Our Octopus Guide

or Najm's Account of Babilar, City of Spires

 Babilar was not at all what I had imagined from the tale told by that old salt we listened to by the fire in the Denyan Isles.

We heard of a woman in Cothon, a ship captain, who had been to Babilar; and going to her, she told us some wares we might carry in the hold of Rihha to trade for something in turn in the ocean city. I took on some soil (yes, soil), as well as some good wines and some Ismiirli pale ale from Ghlar, and several jars of spices. Durham, meanwhile, took on a box of children's toys. These were the kinds of things we took for trade.

Also getting from her good directions to this unusual city, we set forth, stopping first by Sesel's iqta', and then following the coast up the horn to the Denyan Isles, and then following them north and northwest. 

Our journey out took about a week and a half. Bart and Gan vexed me along the way about the price for their passage, arguing that they would act as guards, and so in fact I should be paying them. As we drew near to our destination, we encountered a bare rock of an island and found a man stranded upon it. A very strange man who called himself something strange and foreign--Bumerane, or some such.

Beholding the city, my imagined vision of it was much upended; Babilar is not a city underwater, of mermen or squids, but a city of spires rising above the swell of waves from their foundations well below the surface of Dirac's Sea. Just how a city came to be founded in such a strange way is a great mystery, though there is some indication that the sea may have risen to overwhelm the foundations in some ancient age.

We did our trading, and also asked around the city after its customs and its constitution. It seems there is some chief named Tempest who commands the city in general, but that some consider him a tyrant. Among those who do so are those who worship some pelagic sroish entity called Kir.

Interested in exploring somewhat, we engaged with a certain Kir-ist, Aleida, to enter into a spire formerly controlled by them, but which had become flooded with the unusual tides that haunt the city. There were certain items within, which the Kir-ists were unable to take with them when fleeing the flooding, and which they wished to have again.

We dove into the flooded portion to explore. The spire proved to be haunted with lesser dindins, among other things, which we were able to drive away with aggressive posturing rather than the shedding of blood.

Entering further within, we discovered strange rooms kept magically dry by the barring of water from entering within, and dominating this area was a great image of some luminous serpentine sro, likely Kir or like to Kir, standing like some idol. It appears that Kir was venerated as a kind of spirit of healing and rejuvenation, if not still still so venerated.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the water itself turned against us as we entered another flooded space within the spire, and Demitrytus was struck unconscious by some elemental being of the currents itself. How were we to extricate ourselves from such a predicament that the water itself was attacking us? But the creature turned out to be some kind of mu'agh or something, a slimy translucent blob. I struck it with lightning called forth by Saint Iskameen's name; yet my sorcery failed, while Bartholomew Pettibone was able to transform it magically into a kyni hawk.

We assured the newly transformed hawk that we would attempt to help it escape its new watery prison. We also discovered there was a giant cephalopod inhabiting deeper tunnels, but as we attempted to collect bait fish to offer it for passage, Heijo and I were attacked by dindins. I managed to stun one with a magical dagger in my possession, while Heijo drove off the other with a deft spear stroke, though not without suffering a bite in return.

Bart now took up communication with animals via supernatural philosophy, and we negotiated passage through the cephalopod's demesne in return for several days' worth of fish (it was quite a large specimen, so this amount was not so exorbitant as it might seem). Bart proved quite persuasive, and the creature agreed to guide us around, revealing otherwise secret chambers.

With its help, we were easily able to collect other things desired by the Kir-ists. It led us through quite a myriad of chambers that would have otherwise taken quite some time and ingenuity on our part to fully explore, making its help well worth the weight of fish and the labor of the crew acquiring them all.

Unfortunately, our explorations included the discovery of some mad sorcerer who seemed to have been trapped within, who proceeded to knock most of us flat with a thunderclap. Fortunately, on the other hand, Bart's own sorcery proved greater, and the madman was transmogrified into an amphibian (still quite magical) which was duly captured. This would bear more investigation, of course.

But, having accomplished these deeds, the time to return to Cothon-Gadeed is nearing, and I will put aside my pen for now.

[written as Najm for 100 xp per level]

Najm at Hastati Gate: a Song by the Chroniclers

 Rather a while ago as it seems now, Najm ibn Marwan commissioned Gan ad-Din of the Chroniclers to write a ballad for him--a ballad for his own glory, an heroic deed-song! It was to commemorate the victory at the Hastati Gate, but also to be a song glorifying Saint Iskameen, whom Najm claims as a spiritual ancestor, or perhaps a direct ancestor.

Gan, happy to take Najm's money, complied with alacrity--rather more alacrity than the Scribes in recording it. He developed the song during the jaunt to the Denyan Isles that, though only entered recently into these chronicles, actually happened about three months ago (around the beginning of September).

Najm is most pleased with this lied, and will have it sung at the launching of his new ship, the Rihha, as part of his private celebration for that occasion.

As always, as an in-character accounting of events, this earns Gan 100 xp per character level.

Najm at Hastati Gate

(aka Ballad of Najm, or Ballad of Hastati Gate)

(sung to the tune of: “Am'rekan Pye”

by the ancient bard: D'ahn Mk'leene)

Not so very long ago, the gods rained down their favor
Upon Najm ibn Marwan.
He gathered a fine company
Of mystics and great warriors
To join him on a journey into Hell!

Tsurr al Qadim made us shiver
With every blow we did deliver,
Undead from the doorways,
Fell before our fair blades!
I remember when we almost died
A s'ro called out and burned my hide,
But something healed me deep inside
The day St. Iskameen arrived!

So, HAIL! HAIL! Najm ibn Marwan!
Led his comrades into battle, and the battle was won!
Called Saint Iskameen and lightning down from the sky,
Crying, "None of us, this day shall die!
None of us this day shall die!"

A Stygian was on the prowl,
Collectors crept along the roads,
A s'ro commanded in the clouds!
The minions of Tsurr al Qadim
Corrupt and desecrate your soul,
And animate your corpse as something foul!

Cultists ply their evil trade,
Raise undead beasts with shield and blade
They'll track you to your homes
Then flay your skin from bones!
Hundreds stood against our host
Zombies, skeletons, and ghosts,
They tried their best, our souls to roast
The day we almost died!

Everyone sang: “HAIL! HAIL! Najm ibn Marwan!”
Led his comrades into battle, and the battle was won!
Called Saint Iskameen and lightning down from the sky,
Crying, "None of us, this day shall die!
None of us this day shall die!"

As we fought in a poisoned land,
Lightning flashed from Najm's hand,
And fire burst forth from Heijo's wand!
The s'ro lashed out with bane and blight,
The cultists cast their spells in spite,
As the Stygian and Sesel there did fight.

The Barcidae rushed out with swank,
But the undead moved upon our flank,
Their arrows fell like rain.
All the Barcidae were slain!
As Durham laughed with sheer delight,
'Sun Forger' flew from left and right,
With Najm lighting up the night,
The day we almost died!

Everyone sang: “HAIL! HAIL! Najm ibn Marwan!”
Led his comrades into battle, and the battle was won!
Called Saint Iskameen and lightning down from the sky,
Crying, "None of us, this day shall die!
None of us this day shall die!”

The carnage grew at Hastati gate,
The undead s'ro there laying waste,
Our only plan to act in haste!
Bart sent Gan ahead through space,
And undead burned in gouts of flame,
'Cause fire is Heijo's one true friend.

And as we watched the fight unfold,
Gan and Sesel, fast and bold,
Najm opened his mind
And St. Iskameen did bind!
The poison storm the Saint did quell,
And daylight burst asunder hell!
The s'ro then slain, before us fell,
The day we almost died!

Everyone sang: “HAIL! HAIL! Najm ibn Marwan!”
Led his comrades into battle, and the battle was won!
Called Saint Iskameen and lightning down from the sky,
Crying, "None of us, this day shall die!
None of us this day shall die!”

We passed Poor Brothers on the way
And told them how we won the day
They all smiled and stopped to pray.
We arrived at Cothon Gadeed
Intent to share our heroes' deed,
The throng there gathered 'round, our tale to heed.

And in their joy, the children danced
The Souffets cried, and the Hansemen pranced,
The pall of death was broken
When our success was spoken.
And the gallants I admire most
Najm, Bart, and Durham's host
Cried out to all there, “Hear our boast!”
The day we almost died.

“HAIL!, HAIL! Najm ibn Marwan!”
Led his comrades into battle, and the battle was won!
Called Saint Iskameen and lightning down fro the sky,
Crying, "None of us, this day shall die!
None of us this day shall die!”

“HAIL! HAIL! Najm ibn Marwan!”
Led his comrades into battle, and the battle was won!
Called Saint Iskameen and lightning down from the sky,
Crying, "None of us, this day shall die!
None of us this day shall die!”

Sesel: The Capture of Fort Bugeater

 This information presented regarding the inquiry into the capture of Fort Bugeater.

Let me first thank you for this opportunity. I, of course, was already preparing a report on the activities, and so being given this chance to present it before you both was a welcome thing.

I shall begin, naturally, at the beginning. We had received several opportunities, namely those with regards to the disposition of the tower, fort bugeater, and the device blocking the riverway, and as a group decided that we would begin by investigating the tower. We prepared for months, sending scouting parties, preparing spells, and developing new martial styles. All to prepare ourselves to overtake the watchtower, and then, ultimately, the fort.

When we finally set out, we made sure to disguise our number as best we could. Given that we were able to scout and spy upon their forces, we operated under the assumption that they might have the same.

Over the course of our hike out towards the tower, we were cautious. However, as we reached the approximate area around the tower we discovered it silent. Our forward scouts having confirmed that the tower was vacant of all occupants, at least to their keen eyes. We decided to approach, slowly, carefully. However, we received no opposition so we approached and investigated the place. The signal towers (he provides a rough sketch of them here, in case Cothon/Gadeed might be interested in making use of such things for signaling between their Iqta’s, outposts, and nearby villages), were lit, their weapons and gear cleared out.

Having seen the state of the tower we sent quick word back to the city, thinking to seize it while it was available. After accomplishing that, we began the trek towards fort bugeater that we might better understand the reason for the abandonment of the tower.

Approaching the fort our scouts, and then our own eyes and ears, identified much of the same. Silence, and a general lack of occupying forces. We pressed on, cautious but curious. We discovered heaping piles of bodies, burned and discarded, but otherwise vacant rooms and fortifications. Searching deeper into the fort we discovered a pair of prisoners. The first of these I assume you have heard about from Durham, the second of which I will return to in a moment. After thoroughly investigating the fort, and concluding that there was no imminent threat, we sent word back to General Dalinar, knowing he had standing forces enough to occupy the fort. While we awaited the various forces from General Dalinar and House Othmani to occupy these places we set about destroying the mechanism that was used to obstruct trade on the river.

And so went our expedition to capture the fort. However, I have learned some additional information as a result of this capture.

Namely, that the fort was abandoned as the result of strange shadowy creatures which swept through, slaughtering all that followed Red Cloud, but leaving those two prisoners untouched. In fact, I have spoken with the male prisoner. While his mind has nearly completely retreated from his consciousness due to the horrible tortures put upon him by the Kzin, he was able to explain that these shadow creatures actually saved his life, by withering to a husk the Kzin who had previously been his torturer. And so, while I believe that these shadow creatures are certainly something to keep an eye on, “the enemy of my enemy” as they say. The Survivors and I will continue to investigate these shadow creatures, but I believe the fort to be secure for the moment.

There is further information that has been gleaned. However, for operational security I would ask that we take a more private session. If that is not amenable, so be it, and I will provide it here, but I ask that you understand that this information could put lives at risk and jeopardize our ability to protect the city.

(Which is to say, Sesel provides this either way, but ideally “stricken from the notes” or otherwise in a more private session with as few as the Souffett’s will let him get away with)

I have learned that a major task of Red Cloud, significant beyond even his desire to hold the fort, is to retrieve and reforge a legendary weapon called the lance of St Inistas. Much like the shadows, this lance has moved up to the top of our research tasks, as we must discover more information about what and where it might be that it could be secured. Of course, we will be working with the Confraternity of St. Inistas, and would appreciate any additional authority you could lend to that endeavor.

Finally, I have confirmation that Red Cloud does, indeed, have agents and allies within the dual-cities. I am still in the process of verifying information, and confirming identities. This is, of course, the reason I asked for a more private audience. For, even if I can verify all the information I have, that does not preclude there being others, and we must be very careful who has information about the activities to counter Red Cloud. Lest they undermine our efforts before they’ve even solidified. Additionally, I do not think a city wide hunt, stirring up citizens and turning neighbor against neighbor, would help. And so wish to leave this, above all else, out of the public proceedings to keep the great Dual-Cities from tearing themselves apart. We need to fight these external threats, not each other.

(end private things)

I would also like to explain the, perhaps somewhat obviously embellished, stories that circulated upon our return to the city. As I said before, it was always my intent to bring this report before your council and to make sure the truth of the matter was investigated and known. However, Cothon-Gadeed is facing serious threats. Red Cloud brings war and destruction. An unprecedented undead threat gathering strength in old Tsur. The pirates menacing our trade. Winter hindering crops, and trade alike. Morale in the cities needs a boost. We needed a big victory.

So, using the time honored tradition for an adventurer to embellish upon their story, I took my chance. I told of a great battle, one that we so handily won as to not even wind ourselves. A battle that routed Red Cloud’s forces from not only the watchtower, but from fort Bugeater itself, granting a reprieve of oppression from his forces. I told these stories not to mislead your graces, or the authorities trying to fight against this threat, nor even really to specifically mislead the citizens, but to try and lift the spirits of those sheltering in taverns and homes, those refugees and Survivors of these horrible events going on outside the walls. I seek not to mislead, but to instill hope and strength in these dark times. To let the people of the great dual-cities know that there is hope, that they are defended.

Durham's Report on Fort Bugeater

 I will start with the Pako's and Was'go elite scouting of the area. How they learned the number, composition and armament of the patrol, watchtower and the main Fortress itself. As well as observed the coming and going of two parties to the fort. The first a band of twenty Kzin and one human. Another of eight wagons filled with meat, cheese and perhaps weapons and armor as they smelled machine oil. 

I will also give information that was gathered earlier on an adventure with house Urdos, the names of some of the person's of interest within the fort, Bug-eater of course, another Kzin Tracker, a human Titus and another Kzin Mweep. 

On the day in question the plan was to escort Xandar to the fort to open talks between the city and forces of fort Bugeater. I personally also saw an opportunity to free sister Kyssa that was too good to pass up. We had myself, Sesel, Najm, Fa Min as Xandar escort and the others Pako, Heijo, Raoden, Mai and Demetritus were under a veil of invisibility.

We met up with Xandar at the inn near the fort then proceeded down the road, then met up with the Was'go elite, who were scouting ahead of us and reported no activity. 

From there this story becomes one of mystery more than one of action. And begs more questions than answers. We came to the watchtower to find it abandoned, same with the fort. All left in good condition. We did find six piles of bodies at the fort; all burned human and Kzin, no heads. 

At this point I started to fear that some sickness had affect those at the fort. Why else would the burned bodies be there, the food and other items left, the fort itself not sabotaged at all. It gave me the feeling that Bug-eater didn't wish to stay a moment longer than needed. 

We explored the main building, the dining hall left untouched, food still on the tables. Most rooms empty minus a strange room with only one gem, one gold dinar, and one silver dirham and one copper coin as well. I do not know if this was some kind of code left for others or a trap left for us. We decided to leave it alone and continue our exploration. We found a hole with a ladder that led to an underground hallway, discovering some food and wine, as well as some chests of coin and two prisoners. Sister Kyssa and a man who was clearly driven to madness. 

At this point we sent some messages to contact Dalinar. I attended to sister Kyssa and the mad man by giving them both a sakkra potion. Sesel did do some psionic investigations of his own. Discovering that Bug-eater had joined up with Red Cloud, the details there I leave to Sesel. 

We held the fort for a night and the better  part of a day till a force could be gathered to occupy the fort's defences in our stead. 

I close with that. I find the situation strange and those at the fort should remain vigilant. While the fort and the surrounding area was recaptured easily, much effort and time was spent scouting and in reconnaissance, all done by Members of the Was'go. Their contribution should be noted as it was no small part played. 

I ask all who hear this testimony today to hold on to hope, as many dark things have gathered around Cothan-Gadeed for some time. But know that I will not abandon the twin cities or its people to the darkness, so long as my body draws strength, my mind has will and my sprite holds hope. 

From Bart's Journals 34: A Romp Among the Waves

From the Journals of Bartholomew Pettibone, of the House Pettibone

A Purveyor of Enchanting Sorcery

29 July 2023

A Romp Among The Waves

Just in the past few weeks, our good friend Durham was begged by Telman of Tsipa to lend him the use of the Darkwing, and then further, to join him on an extended “fishing” trip. Telman has apparently been somewhat morose and listless of late, and has been yearning to return to the high seas, to seek new adventures. Durham agreed to this proposition, and extended that same invitation to those of us who have adventured together in the past. Besides myself and Gan, our company was rounded-out with Heijo (of the ink-stained hands), the mendicant Fa Min (and their companion, Demitrytus), and the fremen spiritmaster, Lars.

I have had no prior contact with Telman, but since hearing tales from Durham and Sesel about the great ahko hunt, was excited to be introduced to this revered sea captain. I had no doubt that we could become fast friends and companions. In the great room of the Kantor, over beverages, and after recounting tales of past deeds, Telman finally explained that he had heard rumors of din-din (large, powerful, bony-headed fish) that were menacing local fishers and pearl-divers along the coast somewhere west of Cothon, yet perhaps not as far north as Ittiyqa. Telman wished to return to the waves, in a great ship (such as the renowned Darkwing), with a seasoned crew, to rid the reefs of those meddlesome beasts. To myself, Heijo, and Durham, much of his plans seemed lacking and weak; however, we ultimately agreed to sponsor and accompany this expedition – it certainly had merit!

Preparations were made, food stuffs of the highest quality (meats, cheeses, breads, spices, sweets, etc.), as well as casks of ales, fine wines, and liquors were taken on as larder. A crew of exceptional quality were rooted out and signed on. And modifications to the Darkwing were made: a ballista on the forward deck, and another on the poop. Durham's contacts at the Hanse noted that garum was often wanted in Baldeshum, and fine wines were generally well received in Ittiyqa. Therefore, a cargo was also brought aboard and stored below. We took on many barrels of the recommended items, stowing them well, with dreams of making some profit during this extended cruise, or at least to break even.

We finally gathered on a bright, yet chilly morning, at the quays beside the Hanse, dropped our lines, and set out the oars. In time with Gan's steady drum beat, the oars dipped and pulled, and we departed Cothon-Gadeed making for Baldeshum, to the north and west. The wind favored our departure, and it wasn't long before we were clear of the inner harbor. Our oars were shipped, and a full set of canvas was dressed upon the spars. And the Darkwing sprung across the waves like a kyni soars through the air! Foam rolled and shushed along our hull, and we cut a fine line to the north, and a bit west.

Gan took immediately to the helm, and we allowed him command of the crew and our course. We lamented not having Najm or Arngeir along, both being seasoned sailors. However, as the day was so glorious, a table was set out on the deck, and over beverages and snacks, we pressed Telman for more tales of great deeds, and for more in-depth information concerning din-din. He described them to us in great detail: being massive fish (often over 30 feet long!), with large bony heads, a body covered with scales like plate armor, and a razor-sharp beak. To get a better feel for their size, the Darkwing is but 65 feet long, stem to stern! He further described them as being highly territorial and aggressive, and somewhat of a schooling fish. As such, when we encountered them it may very well be in quantity, and would likely be “exciting”. Telman exclaimed that we should not have worries, as he was in possession of an “eye” that would allow him to gift us with the ability to temporarily breath water as if it were air. This was not going to be the easy fishing excursion Telman initially led us to believe it would be!

During a lull in our conversations, as Telman was fawning over his lady-friend, Durham took me aside and quietly noted that Telman was not behaving in his normal manner. Durham was also concerned about Telman's companion – whose name, I fear has slipped my mind. Durham was worried that Telman seemed curiously obsessed with this woman, who clung to him like a barnacle on an old hull. As well, Telman seemed to be wholly and continuously sauced – almost to the point of incoherence.

In the afternoon of our second day out, as the large island that hosts Baldeshum lifted into view to our north, the Darkwing was assailed by a large, gelatinous sea creature. It slowed our progress to a crawl, and began oozing onto the deck. Mayhem ensued, and Durham began shouting, “Muagh!” Several of our crew leaped to the attack. Lars and Demitrytus attempted to poke and slash this undulating mass of goo, with little effect. Their weapons took as much damage as they gave. Recalling that these creatures are known for their secretions of acid, I focused my mind, and with a deft flick of my wrist, sent a resonating ripple through the arcane. The entire muagh suddenly shook, then quickly shrank in upon itself, morphing and resolving into a completely different creature. I had managed to shift reality and alter the muagh's form and essence into a new state of being. It became, in all ways, a modestly sized, black-feathered, carrion bird, like those often found attending battlefields after an exceptionally bloody conflict. A crow. It impotently flew off into the distance, likely confused as to its sudden alteration!

In the early morning of the next day, Baldeshum stood just to our east, close at hand. As the wind had dropped, and we were becalmed, the sails were rolled up and the oars were once again set out. It took little time for our crew to row us in to the small port of Baldeshum, where we dropped anchor. Telman spoke with the harbor master and the levy master, and secured the removal, import, and sale of all of the garum we had taken on in Cothon. And for a tidy sum, I might add!

While in port, I used my arcane skills to place myself into a state of meditation, wherein I can pierce the veil of others' minds, and learn of their surface thoughts, intentions, and dreams. While I did this, Durham engaged Telman and his woman in conversation, asking pointed questions about how they met, how their relationship developed, what their future plans were, etc. During their conversation, I focused on their minds, and attempted to glean if Telman was under some compulsion, or if his mistress was with him under a less than honorable pretense. Telman's thoughts seemed stuffy, befuddled, but genuine – a strange combination. And indeed, his companion's thoughts revealed that she had stumbled upon a “magic eye”, and had inadvertently used it to induce an unnatural glamour upon Telman. I felt no malice in her intentions, and in fact she seemed truly sorry that their relationship was little more than an accidental arcane fantasy. Durham and I agreed not to immediately confront Telman or his companion with this information, as there did not appear to be any harm intended – at the moment. We simply felt that at this point in the voyage, it might be best not to upset or exacerbate an enchantment we did not fully understand.

We took on and filled out our basic stores and water, and on the following day stood out from Baldshum. Our intention was to head east toward Ittiyqa; however, the weather had other plans. The wind was steady and strong from the north, and biting cold, and we made our way out under oars. In no time, the wind had clocked around to the south and west, the direction we wanted to go, and began blowing a hard gale. Truly, a storm was roaring down upon us, so we set and reefed our sails, and pointed our bow north, to run with the winds coming from behind. As the storm continued to increase in intensity, we let out our anchors to drag behind us, to slow our northerly progress. North was where the wind was blowing us, but north was NOT our intended course!

In the dark, early morning hours of the next day, the wind shifted again, coming from a more favorable direction, but also strengthened. Gan and I felt comfortable in maintaining sails. We had the sea-anchors hauled in, and turned our course south and west to run toward our next port of call. Even under reduced sail, we were once again making excellent time for Ittiyqa!

The storm held its strength for over a day. Gan and I manned the helm and generally had a bang-up time feeling the Darkwing sing and creak as she was rushed along southward, toward Ittiyqa! While the ride was exhilarating, the storm began to take its toll upon our rigging and hull. Some flooding occurred, but proving to be of little consequence, was easily kept under control. By the afternoon of the following day the storm had blown itself out, and we were once again becalmed. Ittiyqa lay within sight, just to our west. Our sails were rolled up, the oars were laid out, and by late afternoon, Darkwing was resting safe at dock in Ittiyqa.

Telman again made deals to have our cargo sold, and to have repairs made to Darkwing. The numerous barrels of fine wine were unloaded and sold for a sizeable chest full of gold dinar, and the crew rejoiced at our good fortune. Indeed, this was turning out to be a lucrative voyage. That evening we dined and cavorted at one of the local wharf-side taverns, and queried the locals about din-din sightings or encounters. Our questioning paid off, and we were informed that folks in the fishing village south of Ittiyqa (by name of Isfax) had first-hand knowledge of these beasts.

The next day we pulled out from Ittiyqa, set sails (as the wind was from the north), and briskly made our way to Isfax, where we anchored overnight. In the morning, as the pearl-divers were heading out in their small boats, we intercepted one and Durham offered 50 gold dinar if they would guide us to where din-din were known to be prowling. His offer was readily accepted, and we took this diver, a proud and haughty young woman, aboard the Darkwing.

With fair winds, we made our course toward the east, toward the many reefs that line the coast. Toward din-din territory! However, prior to attaining our destination, Darkwing was once again assailed; this time by unknown sea creatures. Large crustacean-like creatures began attaching themselves below the waterline, and gnawing into Darkwing's wooden beams. Flooding began almost immediately, and a flurry of ordered chaos soon overwhelmed the Darkwing.

I quickly performed an arcane ritual upon myself, allowing me to breath water as air (as a safety contingency), and then ran below to find Telman. As had become his wont, he was drunk, and abed with his companion. Completely useless. I retrieved his “eye” of water breathing, and upon returning to the main deck, gave it over to Durham. Lars and Demitrytus stood before Durham, and after he bathed them in the eye's rays, they jumped overboard to engage these “boat-eaters”. While they initiated melee combat, I once again caused a ripple to resonate through the arcane, and altered one of the creatures into a crow. However, several more of these beasts remained. Lars and Demitrytus made short work of one, and Durham flooded the surrounding waters with a repellent made from eel distillate, after which the remaining beasts departed, perhaps sensing their impending doom. Soon thereafter we dropped anchor along the southern reef, and began making repairs.

On the following day, our pearl-diver guide informed us that this area likely held many beds of pearl-producing mollusks (of enormous size and danger), as well as din-din. The ability to breath water was once again bestowed on several of us: myself, Heijo, Gan, Durham, Lars, our guide … and Telman. Yes, Telman was finally rousted – however briefly – from his amorous and inebriated ways. This was accomplished by having his companion fall under an arcane compulsion to sleep, essentially relieving some of the enthrallment she had placed over the old sea captain. While Fa-min and Demitrytus remained aboard, keeping watch and manning a ballista, the bulk of our company dove to the bottom and began to search for the pearl-producing mollusks. In no time we were approached by a gigantic gellikite, threatening to crush and rend us with strong pincers and mandibles. As it approached, but still at a great distance, I lashed out with striker, and managed to obliterate the crab, but at fair cost to myself, as well.

To our surprise, the utter destruction of the gellikite drew in a small school of very large, and hungry, din-din! They were upon us quickly, snapping first at our guide, taking her life in an instant. Lars steadied himself upon the seabed and was able to drive a javelin deep through the eye of an approaching din-din, while Gan carved an enormous gash along the side of another, as it flashed by. Even underwater, the speed of his attacks were uncanny and unnatural. I attempted to manipulate the arcane once again, but my focus was disturbed, and my effort bore no fruit. However, the din-din responded as most animals will once harmed sufficiently, and as a single entity, their school turned tail, quickly departing our immediate area. The encounter was over, almost as soon as it had begun.

Sadly, we were not able to capture or kill any of the din-din. We gathered up the shredded corpse of our guide, and returned to the Darkwing. We completed some minor repairs, raised anchor, put on all sails, and made our way east, toward Cothon-Gadeed, toward home. As we sailed under favorable conditions, our guide's remains were carefully cleaned and laid upon the captain's berth, and I performed a ritual that knitted her wounds and returned life back to her mangled body. Although she would remain weak, and require several days of bed rest and recuperation, she was back among the living.

The weather continued to favor us, and before noon of the next day, we found ourselves returned to the inner harbor of Cothon-Gadeed, tied up safely to the docks of the Hanse. Our adventure had most certainly been exciting, profitable, and interesting. However, now the work of untangling Telman from his enchantment lay before us … or more rightly … Durham.

 [written by Phil, player of Bart, regarding a certain recent expedition aboard ship and earning Bart 100 xp per level]

The Hunt for Din-Din

 A song put together by Gan and his Chroniclers, sung to a rather familiar folk tune, and celebrating the action of a recent expedition aboard ship (and earning Gan 100 xp per level):

Just sit right back, and hear a tale,

A tale of a fateful trip.

It started in Cothon-Gadeed,

Aboard the Darkwing ship.

Upon the deck stood Durham tall,

And Telman, sodden drunk.

With garum, wine, and passengers

They made for Baldeshum.

The weather started getting rough,

The galley she was tossed!

If not for the fearless helmsman, Gan,

The Darkwing would be lost!

But the privateer made port on time,

The cargo turned much gold!

Repairs were made, and the crew rejoiced,

The hunt would soon turn bold!

With Bartholomew – a wizard fair,

And Heijo – hands most stained.

With Fa Min, Demitritus, and Lars

A din-din would be slain.

As Darkwing made the southern reef,

The ship, she was attacked.

Her hull was gnawed by giant crabs,

But her keel it would not crack!

Bart unleashed the arcane arts,

He turned some foes to crows.

As Lars jammed spears into their eyes

And squarely up their nose!

Eaters, muagh, and din-din large

Assailed this mighty crew.

But Durham, Telman, and the rest

Prevailed as heroes do!

The Darkwing headed home again,

East to Cothon-Gadeed.

And now she docks beside the Hanse,

All hail her mighty deeds!

On the Slaying of a Serudla and the Discovery of a Zortrium Monument

From the Annals of Arngeir, Son of Arnulfr, Alacritous Academic and Ambitious Adventurer

In the bittersweet days that followed the destruction of the corrupted Apostle Tree, my associates and I pondered the purpose of our next expedition. After some discussion, we agreed to delve, once again, into the acrid Lair of the Old Pale Wyrm. Although we had slain the beast a fortnight before, the Weirding Caverns hold many more secrets. Using the map I purchased for the first expedition, we made our way to the southernmost caverns, to the location where the Wyrm met his doom. As we came to a narrow passage, a familiar sour scent filled our nostrils.

Halting for a moment, we heard the soft scraping of scales against earth and the clicks of claws biting rock. We formed a line and, in moments, another of the Wyrm's brethren was upon us. The fell serpent let out a great hiss, like hot iron quenched in water. In his clutching paws he brandished a spear and a sword, poised to strike Lars Ghar-Rider, Durham, and myself. Durham led the engagement with a throw of his war hammer, Sunforger. 

As our front began to exchange blows with the serudla, our second line supported us by casting spells and javelins. Of particular note during this encounter was a well-placed toss of a lasso from Althis, which snared one of the serpent's six legs. Off-balance and injured, the beast quickly succumbed to the combined force of our impenetrable front. Durham struck the death blow and we set about harvesting the carcass. Althis took for himself a length of its skin, Durham claimed the beast's head, and I cut out its heart. I hoped that this most powerful and rarest of viscera might aid me in some enchantments I'd been planning.  

Although we explored the three southernmost caverns whilst we plundered the Old Pale Wyrm's treasure hoard, some inquisitive party members found a secret door. Behind this portal of false stone was another door with a sign: PECHIK'S ROOM - STAY OUT. Of course, being adventurers, the sign need say no more. Althis rapped on the door with his knuckles and asked the occupants to grant entrance. 

Althis knocked twice before a rather peculiar fellow opened the door. His voice was low and breathy. Althis announced us as "visitors' and this stranger, who later identified himself as Peshik himself, bid us enter. Wishing not to divide our party, we all entered to find five or so other inhabitants waiting for us. If Peshik was odd, these poor souls were even more so. 

In the dim light of our lanterns, we saw that these men moved with an unsteady gait and several of them were afflicted with necrosis. The faces of four of these fellows were rotting; their flesh was visibly peeling and the smell of this room was atrocious. Their eyes were sunken, but hungry. They looked eager to seize us, but Peshik gestured to them to remain still. As Althis made friendly with them, Peshik explained that he and his cohorts were once miners seeking silver, but the appearance of the Old Pale Worm trapped them in that corner of the cavern. He pleaded in a soft, hoarse voice that we remain with him, in the dark. Althis, feeling uneasy, moved to the back of the party and exited the room. 

It is at this point I should, in charity, suggest that our companion Heijo wanted to spare us the dangers of these undead by preempting the fight. In truth, however, I believe she panicked. In any case, she recklessly cast a fireball in this small room. The rest of our party was as shocked as the ghouls were when supernatural fire engulfed everyone in the vicinity. Each of us was scorched and, for a moment, my mind's eye flashed back to my scarring encounter with a Ru'un. In a second, I was back to my senses and laid a slash upon Peshik with my crackling flamesword. Durham laid low Peshik's lieutenant with a crushing blow from Sunforger, but Peshik's end was much more interesting. As Lars was preparing his strike, I saw his new battle-axe vibrate in his hand. He glanced at it, puzzled for a moment, then looked back at Peshik with pure bloodlust. His swift strike halved the villain at the torso and we breathed a collective sigh of relief. I have begun to question Heijo's sanity after this episode, especially considering she attempted a few weeks ago to kill Raoden. Granted, she was in a cultist-induced psychosis before my killing of the Apostle Tree, but I retain my suspicions. 

In the immediate aftermath of Heijo's wayward spell, Fa Min fell unconscious. Luckily, we were able to revive her and began searching Peshik's hideout for anything of value. The hafts of his mattocks, sledges, and shovels were rotted and useless. His payroll was also rather meager. Most valuable of all, however, was a trove of mining maps and documents laid in a large stack upon a makeshift desk. They were very old, delicate, and fraying at the edges. While we were able to collect most of them intact, we spotted a mining claim for a vein of silver in these southern caverns. I signed the claim over to myself using my fingerprint and that of Peshik's corpse. I purchased the deed for the sum of a single dinarius and dropped it on his chest. Am I not an honorable marauder?

Curiously, one of the maps detailed a so-called vein of zortrium. From my knowledge of historical texts and Durham's knowledge of metallurgy, we knew that zortrium cannot be found in nature. It is an exceedingly rare element forged by a civilization older and more powerful than ours. We consulted with the party and decided the best course of action would be to investigate this potentially lucrative location. 

We set out northward, passing the husk of the serudla we had just slain. We took a westward path and walked on a downward incline until we came to two exceedingly large cliffs. Using our rope and climbing tools, we descended the first cliff. Heijo, who carries most of our rope, estimated its height at 250 feet. Simply immense! The second cliff was smaller, around 150 ft. As we descended the second cliff, we heard a cry from the void behind us. Standing upon the precipice of a cliff slightly higher than ours was a group of small creatures carrying a dim light. They called out, asking if we wished to trade. It was the Zoq Fot Pik! We offered to meet them at the bases of our respective cliffs and we scurried down. It was quite a relief to see friends in this accursed place. One shudders to think what would happen if we were attacked by a serudla while we were dangling helplessly from our rope.

Upon reaching the base of the cliff, we found an agreeable place to sit. The Zoq Fot Pik laid out a blanket and set their wares on it. We, in turn, placed our trade goods on the other side. Fermented fish sauce in exchange for jewels, what an oddity! Before our greed could get the better of us, we exchanged some of the garum for information. "How many serudla are down here?" asked Durham. They chattered amongst themselves and motioned for four bottles.

"Four." they said. "We have seen four serudla in this area. Though two are now dead." 

"Four. Does that include the one we killed today?" Durham inquired. The Zoq Fot Pik murmured amongst themselves.

"You have slain another serudla?" they asked. Reminding ourselves that information isn't free in the Weirding Caverns, we traded information about serudla and the stories of our previous encounters with them for a few gemstones. Then came the question that was burning in Durham's and my mind.

"We found a map belonging to a group of miners. They show that there is a vein of zortrium nearby. Where is it?" Hushed tones and whispers. They gestured to another three bottles, which we slid to their side.

"Further down the passage. The same way you are going." To think we could've had a few more gemstones if we'd only held our tongues and gone a bit further! Alas, we only had 13 or so bottles to exchange before we concluded our business. The blanket was rolled up and we said our farewells. 

"Before you leave us, is there another type of garum you might like? Something like a seasoned garum?"

"Seasoned...garum?!" Their eyes boggled at the thought. At the very least, we know what to offer them at our next meeting.

We continued down the passageway, as the Zoq Fot Pik suggested. As we marched down a decline, we came to a shallow pit. There, at the bottom, was a most welcome sight: the greenish gleam of zortrium. We made our way down to the vain and saw immediately what Durham and I had suspected. This was no vein of zortrium; it was an artificial construct of monumental size. 

I began to dig around the exposed edges of the immense object while Durham used his scanner to estimate its size. He reckoned that the zortrium mass was about 10 feet wide and 30 feet long! Fah Min suggested that she use her powers of earth manipulation to move the scree more quickly, but admitted that she needs more practice first. Heijo used her powers to search for an entrance into the construct, but she could find none. Durham used his Cloak of Eyes to peer into the object's interior. He saw a hallway with runic inscriptions on the walls. At least that's a start!

We had come too close to leave empty-handed, I thought. I plunged my flamesword into the structure to create an opening, but it retracted with an unexpected sputter. I had foolishly thought my sword's power was infinite, but it would seem we must use it more sparingly in the future. The zortrium hull, like my resplendent armor, was too strong to cut. Something had damaged it, we discovered. There were many scattered crater marks across it, like those made when one drops a stone into sand and takes the stone away. Either it was buffeted by stones flying at an incredible speed or it collided with the earth at such speeds. The small crater we found ourselves in suggests the latter. 

We could have stayed and dug more, but the exertion of killing a serudla, surviving a stray fireball, and descending the cliffs had left us spent. After a brief conversation, we decided to retire to Cothon-Gadeed until we could return better prepared. To find this object again more easily, Fah Min placed a mark near it. In addition, Durham buried one of his crossbow bolts and Heijo cast an object-finding spell upon it. We scaled the enormous cliffs and headed northward toward the entrance. 

How I long to return! What rich rewards we would reap, if only we could uncover the secrets of the Monument!

[written by Ty concerning a not-recent-anymore expedition, for his character Arngeir, earning that character 100 xp per level] 

From Bartholomew's Journals: The Wingless Sro

 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]

From Bartholomew's Journals: About an Orb

From the Journals of Bartholomew Pettibone, of the House Pettibone

A Purveyor of Enchanting Sorcery

18 January 2023

About An Orb

(When Does An Item Become An Artefact?)

It has been over-long since last I put ink to parchment. Much has transpired, but as I have limited time at hand, I will have to be brief, and then get to the main point.

First, I have unwittingly enmeshed into mine the memories, the experiences, the desires, the knowledge, the fears – and more – of the many past lives of the one known as Hamdi. Yes, even that great explorer and seafarer of old, Hamdi. Through a strange quirk of fate, I encountered a certain being who provided me with a particular elixir. I partook of what was offered; I felt no hint of malevolence in demeanor of presenter or gift. The experience that followed cannot be explained in words – suffice to say, it was “mind-altering”. And so, while I remain Bartholomew Pettibone, of the House Pettibone, I am also … Hamdi. I am both at once, yet neither alone. I am always lucid, yet I feel at times that I walk in a dream-scape, or a dream-time of constant deja-vu. Things once unfamiliar, and even still unfamiliar, instantly become familiar. I can understand how utterly mad it sounds, and perhaps I will elaborate later, but there is a more pressing matter.

An orb.

Many months past, Gan and I entertained an invitation from our good friend Lord Althis, who resides in the Tower Invincible. Durham and Pako were invited alike. Althis was in need of assistance exploring and clearing out some of the territory that he is currently claiming to be under his “protection”. Eyeing this as a potentially lucrative adventure, we accepted. ((For anyone wishing to get more back story – see session #65)) One of the spoils of that expedition was a unique “crystal” orb, in combination with its custom metallic, tripod stand. The circumstance of its unveiling, and the precisely detailed artwork that adorned its stand, seemed to me to indicate that it was a singular and exceedingly rare prize. Lord Althis, being a generous benefactor, was good enough to allow me to claim it as my own – my boon for assisting him.

After returning to Bob Hall, I put away this massive “crystal” and focused my attentions on many varied, unrelated avenues of research. And so the orb sat, forgotten and virtually untouched for some time, on a shelf aboard Bob. Perhaps this is a feature that surrounds and protects the stone? However, not long ago, I rediscovered the orb as I was searching for other items aboard Bob, and began wondering about its existence within the Tower Invincible – a place that seems to be a nexus of great power. Using a cunning spell taught to me by my comrade Heijo, I was able to open my eyes into a new dimension of energetic sight, and determined that the orb enveloped and radiated an intense magical energy.

Since then, I have given over a fair amount of time investigating the orb's properties and potential pedigree. What I have learned is interesting, and certainly exciting, especially concerning its properties. Yet, while information about its pedigree has been somewhat cloudy, it has also made me cautious. I, and my companions have been involved in some deeply fantastical adventures, to be sure; however, after my recent evolution, I can't help but feel that I have in my possession an artefact of great power and ancient lineage. I believe it is a piece of history that has the ability to alter … well … everything. Everything.

While I find that the Hamdi part of me wishes to sojourn down a different path at the moment, I feel that the orb should be given some modicum of continued scrutiny. As such, I will be turning the orb over to Sesel, to maintain in his possession, as steward, until I may request its return. I have the sincere hope that he can put the resources together required to further research this enigmatic sphere. And with its giving over, I will share the information I have gleaned so far. And at banquet within the halls of Sesel's iqta, I will share this info with others within my cabal of barbarians: Heijo, Durham, Avinnia, Najm, and Arngeir … and Lord Althis, of course.

First – I say it is “crystal”, and indeed it appears as such, but I have not yet been able to determine its exact composition. The orb is approximately the size of two closed fists held close together. It appears to be a perfectly smooth, perfectly shaped sphere. The material is dark, almost black when first gazed upon. However, upon closer inspection the matrix is seen to be translucent and smoky. The tripod stand upon which it rests is composed of three rods of an unknown metal, but I would venture that they are zortrium, or an alloy of the same. Perhaps Durham can verify this. The designs that are in relief along the entire length of the rods is quite detailed, and defies easy description. Without a doubt, the designs are quite unique, and most certainly evoke stories of great deeds in ages past. I could not venture to place a monetary value on this artefact, even if I could say exactly what it is made of. And of course, there is the fact that it courses and pulses with magical energy of an immeasurable amount. Most importantly, I have been able, through deep and focused concentration, to peer into and sweep away the cloudiness within the orb, “seeing” an alternate location. Because of these visions I am convinced that the orb has the ability to facilitate communication over distances – small and great.

The place that has been revealed to me continues to appear somewhat misty, but has a familiar feel to it, appearing much like the central command bridge of Bob – but greater. And it is, in fact, an active bridge; many of the visible “magic mirrors and plates” are lit and alive with action. There is also, most definitely, a being of some kind lurking at that location, one with an odd, unnatural gait. However, I have not been able to see them clearly, as they always seem to be just on the edge of vision – ghostly and gangly – veiled by the smoky mists that continually swirl within the orb.

I have attempted to push ESP and various other spells through the orb, even mundane speaking, hoping to initiate contact or a conversation. But so far my attempts seem to have been unsuccessful. Perhaps Sesel or one of my other companions may have better luck focusing their unique psychic abilities through the orb?

Even with these failures, they have helped me flesh out some of the heritage of this artefact. Initially, Gan was able to put me in contact with a certain patron of his within the Piedrajoya – the secretive guild of jewelers and gem-cutters. This patron was able to provide me with some bits of old, vaguely connected, and guarded information. During our conversations I was given over to the feeling that what was being divulged was not necessarily meant for my ears, being not of that guild. However, the easing of inhibitions, brought on by liberal amounts of excellent Mysrian wine, combined with my being a trusted confidant of Gan's, brought forth a tale of great interest.

I described the orb to this guild master, implying that I was researching its existence for an educational thesis; I did not foreclose that I had the very same artefact in my possession. In a hushed and covert tone, with words slightly slurred by the numbing of tongue with wine, it was accorded that stones, gems, orbs, “crystals”, of the type I described, were exceedingly rare, coveted, and of untold value. There was a deeply held and fervent belief among the Piedrajoya that an unknown, but perhaps small number of these orbs existed in the distant past, and may still exist in even smaller quantities today.

The particular orb that I described was noted to be one that was gifted to either the ruler of Old Tsurr, or their steward/castellan, by mysterious beings from outside (far outside!) the realms of men/klackons/k'zin/etc. Demons?!The jeweler believed that these beings have only ever been known as the “Guardians of Old Tsurr”. However, more on this later. The tale-spinner concluded his confessions by implying that the orbs were somehow used for communication between Old Tsurr and those “Guardians”, and my experience with the orb certainly lends validity to this belief – to some extent at least. Some unknown slight, or falling out, caused the situation between Old Tsurr and the “Guardians” to become strained, and ultimately severed. And so, this particular orb was believed to have been hidden away, neglected, and forgotten – for ages.

Armed with that bit of fantastical knowledge, I pored through the vast library of the Kantor, where the miners and gemologists go to drink, swap tales of prospecting, and cavort. In particular, I spent much time going over entries in the massive “Almagest of Kushvant Sen”. Within that great tome I found descriptions of “crystal” orbs, similar to what the gem-cutter had related. Stories, purported to be fact, told of how these stones were held as great and powerful examples of the power of the Kings of Old Tsurr, that their function was to facilitate communications, and that they were connected with beings called the “Guardians of Old Tsurr”. What the jeweler had related seemed to be confirmed.

This particular orb was said be called the “Gloaming Stone”, and is believed to be at least 2000 years old. From what I could determine it was lost to modern times and the thoughts of men (well, most men) at least 500 years ago. Many historical figures have been associated with this particular orb – Dalan II, Dalan IV, and the great warrior Arumanz. Furthermore, it appears to have a connection with the Fortress Moon, as well as the “Aegis of the Demon Queen”.

Of particular interest was a tale that described the beings – the “Guardians” – who gifted the stone as being called “Selenites”. These Selenites, it was noted, had been enslaved by Demons of the Fortress Moon. However, an accord had been struck between men and Selenites to usurp the Demons. This was successful, thanks to the leadership and strategy of Dalan II. This success led to the fellowship swearing what is known as the Sicarian Oath. During this ceremony, the orb, called then the “Crystal of Shadow”, was gifted by the Selenites to Dalan II, in order to seal their friendship and alliance.

The purpose of the orb was described in the Almagest as providing communication between like orbs and their “Guardians”, and may even have provided some means of instantaneous aid to occur between distant locations.

Unfortunately, I have other duties and researches that I must attend to, and will not be able to continue poring over this “Gloaming Stone”. And so I give it over to Sesel, hopeful that they may be able to investigate its properties and heritage further. I would offer that the term “Selenites” is an old Tsurrian reference to living beings comprised completely of stone – particularly of moonstone. I know this sounds impossible, but we have encountered weirder things – even beings seemingly made only of water! Perhaps concentrating first on who or what the Selenites are, and where they might be found, and what the Sicarian Oath is, could be productive. Also, the idea that the orb conveys communication over vast distances gives me pause to consider a potential connection to how the Hanse seems to have such excellent “luck” in knowing what cargoes might procure the greatest profit in far-away markets. Perhaps other “Gloaming Stones” are in existence, and are being used? Finally, within the Herme and Stone there is an odd pillar of alien stone that tugs at an old Hamdi memory – yet it remains cloudy and difficult to access clearly and coherently. When pondering the orb, and thinking of this pillar of stone, something tickles deep down in my mind – I feel that there might be a connection there, but it eludes me. Anyway for now, I leave the “Gloaming Stone” in Sesel's capable possession – with these potential clues to follow – and hopefully we may eventually learn its full potential, and be able to use it in a manner befitting its seeming illustrious heritage.

 [for this account, written by Phil for his character Bartholomew Pettibone, Bart earns 100 xp per level]