From the Journals of Bartholomew Pettibone, of the House Pettibone

A Purveyor of Enchanting Sorcery

(a play report from Phil, player of Bartholomew Pettibone, regarding the last session and thus earning Bartholomew 100 xp per level)

02 January 2021 – for lack of an accurate date, we will begin the tedious

descriptions of our adventures here.

My name is Bartholomew Pettibone, of the House Pettibone. My childhood and

tender adult years were spent under the tutelage and administration of a wise and

intelligent scholar. After it was found that I was rather quick at learning and

understanding new languages, the complexities of higher mathematics, and the

basics of human physiks – my instructors introduced me to the delicate and intricate

nature of what we call 'magic'. And so, after further, intense years of study and

mastery, I was finally able to form and redirect the ether around us in such a manner

as to induce weaker minds into a stupor of deep slumber. Not a small feat – you try

it.

Armed with years of study, this new knowledge of magic, a thirst for travel and

adventure, and a not-so-terrible inheritance, I outfitted myself, and obtained passage

to the harbor town of Cothon. Surely in such an ancient place as Cothon I would be

able to find others who could assist me in advancing my arcane talents – and perhaps

even stumble upon some vast hidden fortunes, whether they be arcane, monetary, or

artistic in nature!

Luckily, my initial foray into the general populace was 'fruitful', but also somewhat

'disturbing'. Especially to one such as myself – unacquainted with the more subtle

arts of subterfuge and skulduggery. It has never been my idea, or in my thoughts, to

associate myself with the underbelly of society – but as I got to know my newest

acquaintance, I began to wonder if that's exactly where I was headed.

I met this gentleman in one of the more prominent 'inns', Durham is his name. As of

yet, I still cannot fathom his true calling and talents. Anyway, he is apparently

'sworn' to a particular Kantor or Canton – I am still learning the new political/social

hierarchy, and their titles, pedigree, and nuances, in this strange place – and he has

been quested to uncover information that might help this particular faction increase

it's local standing. Or maybe to avert a war? I am still somewhat foggy on all of this.

We raised a few tankards of ale together, he described (loosely) his quest, and at

some point I guess I just acquiesced to assist with the task at hand.

Did I mention Durham has a 'servant', 'trainee', 'familiar'? I'm not sure what Paco is

(as that is it's name). He is somewhat of a cross between a humanoid and a dog. Is 'it'

a 'he' – a 'she'? I have no idea! Whatever Paco is, it is somewhat intelligent, can

understand some of our language, and appears to have an affinity for helping

Durham. Interestingly, I find Paco to be quite an agreeable companion, and I tend to

have more trust in Paco than Durham. Paco is odd, but nonthreatening, and quite

interesting. I must ascertain whether Paco and his kind (as I expect he is not a

singular aberration) have a language that I might be able to decipher!

Back to the quest!

So, Durham set about to hire another companion, while I procured a few

'adventuring' items: boring things like rations, wine-skins, torches, flasks of oil, etc.

The mundane needs of everyday life on the trail! Our new companion turned out to

be a quiet, but somewhat confident young woman by the name of Bridne. She claims

that her martial training has allowed her to perfect fighting maneuvers that require

nothing but her naked hands or feet – no other weapons necessary, and no armor that

I can detect! However, as of my recounting of this tale, I have not been witness to

her alleged prowess. If her claims are not fantasy, then I am wonderfully interested

to observe her in action. How does mere flesh ward against cold steel?!

With items procured, and the party prepared, we set off! To do what, exactly, you

might ask? Well, that's the kicker. I'm still not quite sure what I've embroiled myself

in. My understanding was that the Kantor wanted information as to encampment

location, identifying sigils (flags/arms/heraldry/etc.), unit types and numbers, and

things of that nature. But most importantly, they wanted 'proof of life' type of

information – either physical items, or most importantly, a living captive. Ok. Yeah.

That sounds about right – spying, looting, and kidnapping. Wait, kidnapping? What

am I doing here? My concerns were allayed by Durham – he insisted that we were

'likely' investigating a horde of pirates in the area that had been recently marauding

innocent victims. Ok. Sounds legit'. Why not.

We sojourned on! Out of town our little band strolled. As we worked our way

further through the outskirts of the city – passing the dismal wretches who dye

fabrics in pools of chemical death, and passing the shoreline gleaners working in

their cesspools of rotted fish carcasses – I realized again how much we depend on

the working class, yet tend to treat them as pariahs. I will never understand this

mentality. Without them, we have nothing. All of our riches depend upon them.

There is an inequality in this social equation that I just cannot cipher. But aside from

the drudgery of those poor wretches (who were at least free), I noted another, more

bizarre, spectacle: human slaves, toiling in fields, guarded over by insectoid-

arthropodians (some even winged and flying)! I stood agog.

I wanted to do something. I'm not sure what. But I just don't think that's right. So

much to learn, so much. But, I was dragged back to the task at hand by steady

Durham. He coaxed me back to our quest, explaining that now might not be the best

time to jump into a nest of wasps! (I paraphrase, but you get the gist.)

After leaving the city, we presently arrived at a cavernous hole in the ground – kind

of. I guess. I had been shell-shocked about the slaves and the arthropodians that we

passed earlier. I'm sure that I walked in a stupor for some time, not paying particular

attention to our whereabouts. Anyway – it was a massive cave mouth yawning open

upon the ground. I should state here that it had been Durham leading us out of the

city, proper, and that after we entered the 'wilderness' it was Paco that helped us

maintain our trail.

Well, in we went. But only after Durham explained that there might be 'unfriendly',

magical creatures lurking in the darkness, in the water. He described something to

me that sounded suspiciously like a 'water-whisp'! Great. Spying, larceny,

kidnapping, and now 'supernatural pest control'?! Why not. Just – why the eff not!

Yep, into the cave we went. Not so bad, actually. We had a torch lit (I carried it –

my suggestion), so vision was not a serious problem. But it was spooky. Cool. Quiet.

Dark. Very, very dark. Yet Paco was unerring at getting us through the passages.

And Paco was able to point out where the magical water-whisps might be

encountered. At that location we decided on a quick, stealthy pass-through. Durham

noted that if we encountered them – run. Fast.

At the first break in the main passage we began to follow the path on the right, but

Paco dragged us back and strongly indicated that we should take the passage to the

left. And so we did. This passage had water flowing through it, which led to a hole

in the floor, through which the water fell. We could not see the bottom, and yet Paco

insisted we must go down. This was getting really weird. This odd dog-man-thing is

insisting that we drop through a dark, wet hole in a cavern floor – to find, what?

Well heck. Why not?!

We decided to drop a torch down, hopefully to illuminate the floor below. While

Brinde secured a rope for climbing, I lit an extra torch and handed it to Durham. I

then stretched out close to the opening, careful not to slip and slide through, and

dropped my torch over the side – only to see it bounce off the wall into the water,

and sputter out in the dark mist. Never to be seen again. (Gods I hate rolling a one!)

Durham had better luck. With a torch on the bottom, we could see where we were

going, so down we went.

At the bottom we moved through a smaller passage that emerged into a grand cavern

– super massive – with a beach stretching off to an opening quite a distance away

that served three apparent functions. First, it allowed seawater to penetrate

underground. Second, it allowed a fair amount of deep red sunlight to infiltrate in,

allowing sight without torches. And, third, it was large enough for triremes to enter.

Yep, triremes. Two of them! And on the beach nearby, laughing, cajoling, and

drinking around a fire (partially obscured by a rocky outcrop), was a raucous party

of what appeared to be pirates. The 'encounter' was on!

Realizing we were undetected, we doused our torches and hunkered down behind a

rock wall and devised a plan. Here's how it went down:

Paco was explicitly ordered to remain at our rally point (this passage entrance) so as

not to get hurt.

Then Durham crept slowly and carefully along the cavern wall, to a spot close

enough to listen in on the encampment. After listening for a while to the

conversations he crept back and reported that we had indeed found what we were

looking for, and that now we just needed the 'proof'.

Durham next swam quietly out to the two anchored ships in order to see if there

were any defining or descriptive marks or designs on them – something that might

help identify ownership or fealty – and then returned to us.

As Durham made his swim, Brinde and I crept close to the camp to continue our

reconnaissance, and to place me in a position where my only spell might have its

best effect. While we watched and listened, we noted several distinct voices, but one

in particular was seriously odd. Almost like a large animal harshly attempting

human speech – but, not having completely analogous mouth parts, has a difficult

time bellowing out many words. It was really weird! We also noticed that there was

a particular spot, just outside of the firelight, where the 'pirates' went to relieve

themselves. And then I had an idea!

So, Durham returned with some excellent information – a fine description of each of

the triremes – something which I have n doubt will help his guild. The prow of each

trireme was quite distinctive – one being like a nautilus with it's tentacles stretched

out and twisted into a ramming prow. The other I do not recall, except that it's upper

sides and deck were black, and her oars were black – giving the impression, I would

imagine, of a black dragon if seen from above. He also noted that the party we were

watching over had at least eight members, but that one of them appeared to be some

massively tall feline humanoid. He also noted that they all seemed to be armed to the

teeth. Yay!

Our adventure played out as follows:

Durham crept quietly up to a point near the encampment, but where he was still

protected by the rock wall. He was prepared to defend against any foe. Brinde and I

stayed farther back, deeper in the shadows, and waited until we saw who we had

ascertained to be the scrawniest of the pirates come out to the darkness to relieve

himself. When he did, I quietly spoke ancient words and quickly twisted the fingers

of my hand into a sigil. My actions briefly bound the material with the immaterial,

and I was able to direct all of my arcane energy into dropping the drunken pirate into

a slumbering heap. And down he went, in the middle of his pisser.

By luck, darkness, and the amazing talent of Durham in 'throwing' his voice, we

were able to extract the drunken, passed-out pirate to our rally point without being

detected. More amazingly, we did not awaken our captive! As the fellow was being

gagged, disarmed, and bound, he began to awaken. As he came to the realization of

his predicament, we used the sharp end of a blade to reinforce that if he attempted

escape, or to do anything without our consent, he would be gutted and fed to Paco.

Paco 'grinned'. And the chap never once proved to be a serious burden. I like Paco.

Well, our trail back was quiet and unhindered. Honestly, nothing really to describe.

Other than once again, my mind was bent. It began as I mentioned my serious

misgivings about walking a bound person into town, with a sword to his back. You

know, just like “Hey folks! You don't know us, but we're just gonna drag this bound

and gagged wretch around at sword-point through your town, and deliver him to a

secret cabal! Yeah, don't mind us! Nothing to see here!” That kind of misgiving

went through my mind. Once again, what am I doing?! Spying, larceny, kidnapping,

supernatural pest control, AND B-movie vigilante?! Sure. And not why – but, why

not?!

We delivered our captive, collected a nice reward, and each of us trotted off in

different directions. I need to find a place to lay low for a few days, and to figure out

what's going on in this town. Meanwhile, I figure I'll set myself up as a translator –

someone to ostensibly help merchants from different language groups converse and

negotiate deals. But keeping in mind that being a 'linguistic connector' essentially

makes you a potential trader in privy information.

So, ta-ta! Let's see where these adventures get us!