(written by Phil, player of Bartholomew Pettibone, regarding his experiences during the recent quest for the ghar, and earning Bart 100 xp per level)
From the Journals of Bartholomew Pettibone, of the House Pettibone
A Purveyor of Enchanting Sorcery
10 August 2021
Hunting Ghar in the Iqta Tolwan
Upon returning from the Denyali Islands expedition, I have found that our good friend Sesel has somehow attained a position of 'citizenship' within the greater social construct of Cothon-Gadeed. And coupled with this new found citizenship, he has accelerated his affairs with the House al Rashid, joining them through marriage! And so a fine wedding ceremony and party have been planned. I have donated a full amphora of fine Misrian Shajr wine (best when drunk in the presence of S'ro!), and a cask of recently acquired skooma-liquor! Ah, what a fine, drunken debauchery shall ensue!
However, as the details of the festivities were still in the making, Gan and I sat at one of Gadeed's ubiquitous taverns, sharing ale and stories with a new acquaintance, one Lars, who fancies himself a Fangripper. Lars is a large fellow, with a brusque manner – his muscles well developed and formed – who dresses in odd furs and loin-clout. I gathered, through his claims and boasts, that he is something akin to a hunter-shaman, and has undertaken what he calls a 'vision-quest'. Apparently his gods, or ancestors, have stolen into his dreams of late, and have asked him to both prove himself worthy of their further investment, and to obtain and return a certain item to it's rightful place of honor.
While Lars was expounding upon how he envisioned this quest to play out, our good friend Hey-Jo joined us, as did several other rowdy ne'er-do-wells! The ale finally worked enough courage and folly into our befuddled minds, and we decided as a group to gather various equipment and stores, and to assist dear Lars in his quest to hunt river ghar in the nearby Iqta of Tolwan!
Our company was exceedingly large, but we expected that to hunt the ghar (successfully) we would need many well-honed adventurers. Lars was able to tempt a K'Zin hero (Leaper) who had recently shown prowess by defeating a Barcidae scum in the local arena, and a sakkra hunter, Slith the Seeker to join us. Seeker had talked with others about hunting ghar, and knew somewhat of these massive, armored beasts. Gan agreed to accompany us. As did Hey-Jo, Mara (a less experienced sorceress), Dehuada and a fellow called Seven-Toes. We gathered carts, amphorae of oil (in case we required a conflagration!), pole-arms, ropes, hammers, stakes, fresh fish for bait, digging tools, and several large, well-made nets (hoping we might be able to entangle our quarry).
Laden down with our equipment, we made our way out of the city via the 'western' Klackon Gate (after passing through a part of the city largely populated by the insect-like Klackons). The road was well-traveled, and by the end of the day we found ourselves at a place where the river narrowed, with a ferry present for facilitating cross-river traffic. As it was late in the day, we decided to make camp, and to cross the river in the morning. During the evening, after supping, we sat around our campfire making small talk, and were joined by a passing acquaintance who I had encountered long ago, in the caverns deep under the Klackon spire – Elfo! He graciously accepted our offer of having him join us, although he was highly skeptical of the outcome of our adventure. As the night grew darker, and the fire grew dim, I asked Lars, how his epithet came to be: was he a Fan-Gripper (one who grips a fan), or a Fang-Ripper (one who rips fangs, or uses fangs for ripping)? He stared blankly at me, and assured me that it was the latter. My attempt at humor went unnoticed.
In the morning we prepared to cross the river using the ferry. After negotiating an (un)fair price, half of our party (with the cart carrying nets) began the crossing, while the rest of us prepared for the second trip. About halfway across the river, the water near the ferry exploded into a frenzy, tentacles with tooth-filled mouths lashed out from a monstrous form, and one of the ferry-men was roughly plucked from the boat and dragged away in a swirling froth of blood – a ghar! Lars took the man's place and they quickly closed upon the far shore and safety. But – what now? As the ferry attained the shore, all of the ferry-workers and their foreman hastily debarked, moved quite a distance away from the shore, and refused to return – and who could blame them?
Using cross-bows, those of us on the near-side were able to send an end of rope to the far side. One of the nets was attached firmly to a corner of the ferry, and our rope (which stretched clear across the river) was attached to the net's other end. Lars, Mara, Seeker, and Leaper then began drawing and poling the ferry back to our side, letting the net trail off downstream, while those of us on the near-side (myself, Gan, Dehuada, and Seven-Toes) began retrieving the downstream, roped-end of the net. Hey-Jo stood guard with a cross-bow, while Elfo ran back and forth along the shore, slapping the water and hoping to lure the beast toward us. Thus we dragged the net across the river, in hopes of snagging the ghar.
The beast was indeed netted and pulled onto shore! It was monstrous, and wicked powerful! A full 15 feet long, composed of an armored head that could shoot out three different tentacled mouths (with vicious snapping jaws!), a flattened and plated, turtle-like body, and a clubbed tail that swung and thrashed ominously! It must have weighed close on to 5000 pounds. I initially attempted to reduce the beast to a deep slumber, using my connections with the arcane forces; however, the beast was too large and powerful for my arcane grasp to envelope it! We therefore began a merciless attack on the beast: swords slashing, cross-bows twanging, and pole-arms poking! At one point Lars was able to mount the creature, doing some goodly damage with a deep thrust of his sword, while I was knocked senseless by the thing's clubbed tail. I dare say that two such blows would have killed me outright. However, the killing blow came from Seven-Toes, as their sword was thrust deep into the soft part of the ghar, where head connects to body. The beast was defeated, one of our three nets had been destroyed in the scuffle, but we were yet hale and strong!
The carcass was drug farther away from shore, the ferry-men returned, and the ferry was retrieved. We butchered the beast and had a fine meal of roasted ghar meat – shared with the ferry-men, many of the local fishers, and several of the sand-grubbers who worked the area for the glass-blower's guild. It was a fine party! A deal was struck with the ferry foreman, for continued free passage for our band of adventurers, and he agreed to send some of his folk with Seven-Toes, back to town, with the beautiful and expensive top-shell of the ghar. The nacre that lines the inner side of that shell is exquisite and highly sought after – it will bring a fine pile of gold!
At some point during the night, our friend Elfo disappeared. He is a strange fellow, always appearing out of the ether, briefly assisting with some chore, then scampering away into the wilds. I suspect that Elfo is not truly human, not truly beast – perhaps a lost, wandering spirit.
On the following day we made our way across the river, and continued on to the Iqta of Tolwan. At the gate of his tower keep, we informed the guards that we sought an audience with their master, to beg his leave for us to hunt ghar upon his lands. Tolwan met with us, yet after hearing of our success the day before, he remained skeptical of our prowess. Nevertheless, he provided a meager feast, allowed us to stay the night, and gave us leave to hunt on his lands. He was gruff and scoffed at many of our stories, unbelieving, and removed himself from our presence quite early in the evening. Tolwan steadfastly refused to accept that we had actually dispatched a massive ghar on the previous day. We were determined to prove him wrong, and I was convinced that he was a cretin – one who cared not at all for learning, but who gained and remained in a position of power through sheer brutishness.
We had been informed by many of the locals that the ghar had taken up nesting on a well known, haunted island. They said that after the ghar had arrived, a strange drumming began to emanate from deep inside the island. Several ancient tombs were known to be located there, and the locals begged us not to set foot upon it's forsaken shores – fearing that we would surely perish. Either ghar would crush and eat us, or some nefarious undead creatures might steal our souls. We learned what we could, procured several abandoned small-boats, and made our way across the waters to the haunted island. Lars had done some morning meditations, and he was convinced that his vision-quest required him to set foot upon that distant piece of land.
Finally upon the island, we set up a small camp, off and away from the shore. Along what seemed to be a ghar-drag we dug out a large pit. A net was strung across the pit, and it was concealed with leaves and duff. Bait was laid out across the net, and a trail of fresh fish was scattered along what looked to be a ghar-drag through the underbrush. Another net was set up and concealed, ready to be dragged across and over the pit, if needed. As the pit was being dug, Mara noticed a triad of mer-type creatures swimming by. We all took a quick break to gaze at these lithe, supple creatures, and for a moment I felt that I should join them. A deep yearning was set up inside me, and I was compelled to throw myself into the deep waters and be with them forever! However, as I began to wade into the shallows, the sudden start from the cool waters (and Gan's hand squeezing hard upon my shoulder) brought me back to reality, and I hastily removed myself away from their insidious draw.
The pit was finished, the trap laid, and soon a ghar approached, following our trail of tasty morsels! It was about half the size and mass of the ghar we had previously dispatched, but still formidable. It was taken in the trap, and quickly dispatched, with but little effort. We dragged it's carcass to our camp, and prepared our trap once more.
Near nightfall another ghar lumbered toward our trap, it's three tentacular jaws shooting out and around, searching out and snatching the bait-fish from the ground. Into the trap it went, and once again a great battle was on! This ghar was large, similar in mass to the first we had encountered, and fought ferociously! While some in our group ended up with contusions, bruises, and bites, none were fatal, or terribly serious. Gan was able to sever one of the jawed mouth-tentacles, rendering it useless, while the final blow was delivered by Lars. Seeing that the ghar's strength was waning, and following his vision-quest dreams, he leaped upon the beast's back and thrust his hand upon it, while uttering words in a coarse language. The ghar, after being beaten, slashed, speared, and pelted with sling stones, shuddered once under his touch, then fell silent – dead. Lars had used his spirit magic to suck the final life force from the beast.
Lars could feel the thrumming of the island become stronger, and he told us all that he was determined to enter into the tombs, where the ghar must have made their lair. We left Hey-Jo and Mara at our camp, to watch over the two ghar carcasses, while the remainder of our party entered into the muddy tombs.
In the main chamber of the tomb we found refuse, bones, and detritus – nothing of importance – only the remnants of ghar habitation. However, as we were searching the room, Gan became startled, gasped in confusion, and pointed out a creature coming upon us from what once might have been a secret door. The thing appeared as ghastly as a man who had drowned weeks before, yet still walked! The stench that it carried was unbearable! It's eyes were dreadful to behold, and a deep feeling of hopelessness washed over us all. Even as despair overtook us, we were able to easily dispatch the wretched creature, and the feeling of imminent death washed away with it's passing.
We entered the passage it had emerged from, and after a short flight of stairs down, found ourselves in a room shaped like a large ship. And here, in this ship-shaped room, the strong thrumming/drumming sound could be heard and felt by each of us. A secret door was found by Seeker, and inscriptions were noted around it's edging. The runes told of a famed piratical ship captain that was entombed here, laid to rest with great treasure plundered from raids against the village people of the red forest, in the southeast. It was noted that the 'thundering headsman demon' was set to guard the tomb. We threw caution to the wind, and decided to defy the warnings and enter anyway. I was certain that some few of us might certainly perish.
Down we went, into a semi-flooded chamber. The demon did exist, and came forth upon us. It was invisible to our sight – yet it's essence was so foreboding and tangible, that we knew it had to be present. As we stood in the dark chamber, with our feet submerged in mucky liquid, Lars withdrew a handful of dirt from a pouch and flung it across the emptiness. The invisible demon was splattered with the stuff and we were able to discern it's vague shape. Not much, but it was enough to allow us to aim our attacks! Gan (with the Red Sword of Arslan) and I (wielding the Weird-Eye Knife) struck the demon many times – perhaps doing damage? It was impossible to know, as the blows felt somewhat solid, yet no blood or ichor issued from any wounds. The battle raged on. We felt that we were making progress, but it was difficult to tell! Dehuada dispensed holy water, which seemed to do nothing. Gan was struck once and took much damage (I feared that he might be lost). We certainly learned that fighting an invisible creature is difficult. With a final, forceful thrust of my Weird-Eye knife, the demon howled and screeched, and the sound swirled around us and echoed in the chamber in a way that sent chills running down our backs. And then the thrumming ended, and a blackened pole-arm dropped, splashing into the muck at my feet.
As I retrieved the fallen weapon (that the demon had been wielding) large, toothy-mawed worms began issuing forth from a reddish fungal mass growing on one of the chamber walls. The worms writhed menacingly, clinging to the moss, and focused their attention on Lars. I felt something pressing in upon my mind, and a cottony feeling filled my head.
However, Lars calmly sheathed his weapons, removed his armored cape, and cast a shield spell upon himself. The worms seemed to watch Lars, but did not attack him. He strode confidently toward the worms and passed through them and the red moss that they inhabited, untouched, and into a dark passage beyond. He descended a short flight of stairs and found himself in a final resting tomb, an old moldered body laid out upon a stone dais. A beautiful helm lay there as well, apparently this was the object of Lars' vision quest. He retrieved the helm but touched nothing else, and was able to leave unhindered and unharmed. The rest of us searched the upper and mid chambers while he was busy at his task, and when Lars returned we left.
On the morning of the next day we butchered the two remaining ghar and made our presence known to Tolwan again. We called him down out of his tower keep and rubbed his nose in our success. He was most pleased and amazed – becoming syrupy in tongue and obsequious in manner – professing that he never doubted that were heroes and warriors of legend! His feelings toward us had indeed softened, and he offered us any boon we might wish, even as far as giving over to us his lands, titles, slaves, and keep. I refused such ludicrous gifts (again, I believe this fellow is not all together … together), but I asked that if we called to him at any point in the future, he and his entire force of men-at-arms should assist us against whatever foes or tasks might be at hand. Tolwan readily agreed, bobbing his thick, dull-witted head, and continually bowing and scraping at our feet.
Tolwan also agreed to have his men assist us in carrying our great fortune of ghar carapaces and other sundry items back to town. From thence, we returned to Cothon-Gadeed and much carousing ensued! We celebrated the completion of a successful hunt, a lucrative excursion – and the birth of a new legend:
Lars, Ghar-Rider!
And now for the wedding!
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