From the Journals of Bartholomew Pettibone, of the House Pettibone
A Purveyor of Enchanting Sorcery
04 February 2023
A S'ro By Any Other Name is Still A S'ro
In the recent past, our good friend Arngeir of the Green Gleam had a certain map come into their possession. It was purported to describe where serudla lived, deep in the bowels of the Weirding Caverns, along with promises of hoards of untold treasure. To help secure this lucrative windfall, Arngeir sent word throughout the taverns of our fair city, attempting to gain the assistance of any stalwart adventurers. And the call was answered.
Durham, of the Ringing Anvil, and his companion Lars (known as the Ghar Rider), initially went to Arngeir to hear more of this expedition. And with them went Sesel and Raoden of the Survivors, Heijo of the Ink-Stained Hands, and a young mendicant by name of Fa Min. After considerable vetting of the veracity of this map, and of course not wanting to pass up on an invitation to learn more about beasts of the s'ro kind, Gan and I also answered this call. Purely for furthering our basic understanding of the natural sciences, of course.
Durham initially proposed that we hie ourselves to the Colossian Oracle in order to have various aspects of our expedition divined – for success or ill. All agreed that this was an excellent beginning. We gathered items deemed on our part as sufficient for sacrifice and made our way through a gloomy, grey morning to those hallowed halls, near the Necropolis. Among those goods were fine wines, ciders, and ales … sweet morsels of dried meats, fruits, and nuts … a flask of blood from vanquished foes … a fatted beast … finely fashioned jewelry … and other finery.
The monitors of the oracle ushered us in and took stock of our offerings, allotting a total of four questions to be posed to their priestess. While the others paid attention to the questions and the answers, Raoden and I let our gazes wander over the vast array of mirrors, view-plates, knobs, levers, touchstones, and blinking lights that constitute the outward visage of the oracle. This facade brings to our minds the inner workings of Bob. Between the two of us, and our experiences, we decided that there is something more here than just a mysterious “oracle”. It smacks more of a technological divining device. Perhaps it relies on information, devoured and absorbed over untold centuries, that can be parsed and queried in a manner that allows for answers to be estimated with varying degrees of confidence.
But I ramble.
Our questions and answers were thus:
What is the most dire physical weakness of the Old Pale Wyrm?
Simply put, its love of and desire for treasure.
What can counter the acid allegedly spewed by the Old Pale Wyrm?
Metals of the Earth.
What are the attributes of the weapons carried by the Old Pale Wyrm?
Swift one strikes,
Sure all strike.
Spells they wreak,
Of withering, charm, and sleep.
Aside from the Old Pale Wyrm, how is its treasure hoard protected?
Deep within the Earth it lies,
Protected by what family he might gather.
And others o'er the caverns fly,
Who cast sharp stones that scatter.
After our questions were answered, and some small refreshment shared, our party returned to the city to gather goods and wares, and to arm ourselves. In short order we departed through the city gates once more, making our way to the Tel al'Safina, and into its labyrinthine bowels of the Weirding Caves. I should note that as we entered the caverns, due to Fa Min's obvious lack of experience, I twisted the arcana around them, rendering them invisible to the eye. As well, Gan lit his trusty lantern to provide us with a means of seeing in the dark passages that lay ahead. And so into those familiar tunnels we delved, once again.
As Sesel has led several previous mapping expeditions in those caverns, his expertise led us straightway to what we all agreed must be the very same area that Arngeir's map illustrated. After scrambling down a rather precipitous ledge, dropping near thirty feet into a dank chamber, we took a break in order to orient ourselves. At this location I could definitely make out the aroma of what reminded me of reptilian origin – sakkra and s'ro. And there were signs of previous, horribly failed expeditions.
While others were quietly discussing options on moving deeper into what we believed to be the lair of the Old Pale Wyrm, Gan and I made a startling discovery. In the darkness of a connecting passage, we clearly discerned a pair of large, gleaming eyes, intently watching our party. I unobtrusively nudged Sesel with my elbow, and Gan pointedly directed Durham to take note – a beast of obviously large proportions was studying us. Heijo immediately retreated deeper into the shadows of our chamber and began fiddling with a piece of jewelry, muttering a foul incantation over it, no doubt instilling it with a curse.
Upon realizing that we had discovered its presence, a serudla of immense size (obviously a wingless s'ro) scuttled out of the passage and approached us menacingly. Its body was massive, and in two of its hands (it had four!) it wielded a battle ax and a sword. Immediately its sibilant voice filled the chamber, and it demanded to know what tribute such pitiful miners and prospectors had brought for the Old Pale Wyrm this time. What baubles and tasty treats had been brought in exchange for the trifle of sparing our insignificant lives? Indeed, this was a s'ro; they are always going on about tribute and entitled offerings.
Lars stood forth and claimed that he had come for the beast, which it seemed rather amused by. Dropping its head, which was the size of two large barrels, it flicked a dry tongue over Lar's face, declaring with satisfaction that he would be a tasty morsel, indeed! Heijo then stepped forward and presented a most charming necklace – of gold and garnets – to be hung about the neck of our host. And it agreed. As this gem laden jewel was draped upon that tree-trunk thick neck, the curse it contained exploded and dissipated, fizzling inertly. However, it did have the effect of alerting our foe of our unfriendly intent. Before any other reaction could be made, Lars wrapped an arcanist's web around the creature's head, effectively clamping its vile mouth shut. Sesel, Arngeir, and Durham rushed forward to initiate a melee, and Gan strode forth slowly and calmly, studying his opponent. Raoden instantly constructed a wall of force from the arcana, and called the rest of us to take refuge with him. The fight was on.
The encounter was chaotic and quick, and the details are murky. Suffice to say, Gan was seriously damaged (but he gave as good as he got!), and Arngeir suffered grave wounds also (which were later healed). Lars attempted to ride the wingless s'ro – but alas, was tossed off as easily as water is shaken from a soaked yekki. The beast was eventually overcome and dispatched, thanks to a series of solid blows dealt by Sesel and Durham. And especially to the amazing light-beam from a weapon held by Roaden, that actually cleaved the sword-wielding arm from the body of the s'ro! The same sword that almost delivered Gan unto the dark-lands with one devastating stroke.
We reveled in our fortune, salved and cured our wounds, then went to the task of investigating the corpse of our fallen foe. While the beast was divested of its weapons (Gan claimed that fated sword for himself, and Lars the ax), and its body investigated, Heijo and Fa Min looked about this room further, discovering another very narrow passage leading out and away to the south. With all in agreement, those two entered that “fat-man's misery”, to discern where it might lead, while the rest of our group completed the task of shearing its head from its body, and flaying the skin from the beast. Their report was glorious – a new chamber lay close beyond, with heaps of glittering coins and baubles laying unprotected! We sent them back to scoop, Scoop, SCOOP!
Buoyed by our success, we moved deeper and further into the lair of this wingless s'ro, and were not disappointed with our findings. Another s'ro was found, slightly smaller but still formidable, resting among and guarding yet more lucre! We enticed this next fellow into another melee, and were once again victorious. More coins, baubles, and intricate items were shoveled into our bags – our greed at least as voracious as that of those we were vanquishing. Hmm … are we just s'ro of a different type?
After learning of the possibility of even more treasure laying deeper and further in these meandering halls and chambers, and eliminating some trifling speleo-vermin, we became inclined to rest on our laurels and return, alive and monetarily sated, to the sunlight realm above. And so we made our way out of the caverns, and back to the city, retiring at Cothon Understar to nurse wounds and to toast our success with tankards of ale!
S'ro are most certainly creatures of much infamy, and can conjure up images of savage, chaotic destruction. However, after having discourse and interchange now with at least four of their type, I must say, they are no different than any other tyrant, brigand, or despot. I am now more than eager to return to the Denyan Isles and make entreaties to our s'ro nemesis out among those far lands. That will be another adventure, for another day!
[written by Phil, player of Bartholomew Pettibone regarding the recent expedition into the Weirding Caverns, earning Bart 100 xp per level]
No comments:
Post a Comment