Reply With QuoteSunday would be good. I was having some trouble with the Yahoo Group and I kept getting errors. I'll try again tomorrow or so but if there is some information I need to know please PM me.
Sunday works.
Sunday would be good. I was having some trouble with the Yahoo Group and I kept getting errors. I'll try again tomorrow or so but if there is some information I need to know please PM me.
I can always create a Google Site instead, it's generally big-free. Would you guys rather do that?
You can manually add someone. I have one myself. The calendar/auto reminder function makes it very worthwhile.
So we have four players and we're still accepting players, optimally 1-2 more.
So far the classes are Rogue, Sorcerer and Monk and possibly a 'Fighter' of some kind with no "party" NPC.
ok first meeting is sunday 10/2 at 1:00 pm right?
Yep! As in 30 minutes from now.
We still have openings for 3 more people. To clarify what we're looking for: Easy going people who like to enjoy themselves, are pretty smart, like to work out mysteries based on clues and can use their characters' abilities and challenge me, as GM, to keep it interesting and challenging.
Next session 10.23.2011
Ardem's Journal, entry Month of Green, Day 12
When Ardem had been cast from the Circle into Penance, he had imagined years,
perhaps even decades of demeaning services; cleaning the Keepings, patrolling
the towns, seeking lost younglings and escorting Healers on their annual
Gathers.
Nothing had prepared him for this.
He had been sent to meet a Monk that a Ridger had found emerging from the
Shrine-Lands into the Tribe-Lands. Then down past the snow-line, something that
hardly ever happened. He was, of course, to travel with the traveler, find out
his story and report but also direct him to the Peacekeepers.
Then, of course he should have expected it, he had been ordered to accompany
them and assist.
Assist.
An open-ended command as any but at the same time a test, to see if he would
exceed his authority again.
Determined not to make the same mistakes again, he had followed them and
contributed as little as he could without draining on their resources, as he was
ordered to "assist". It wasn't that hard until they arrived at Silmar, the very
place repulsed him.
He'd been there on patrol before, had seen the bustling farm community and been
amongst them once or twice but in that time he had never connected with the
people. That was the way of things for the Wolf, part of a breed, perhaps a pack
but always alone as well. He moreso than others, since he couldn't even be a
part of the Tribe anymore.
No one bonded to a Wolverine.
Still, it had been very useful, this bonding and being sent with these people.
He hunted and foraged for them and Ruuhg's superior sense of smell had aided them
in determining the unnatural qualities they had encountered.
Still, the firing of the town, despite the deep stain of poison on it and the
loss of the people had been highly disturbing. More than that, the... entity...
he had sensed, was still present but it disappeared, it had fled to the swamp. That
meant heading into it's own territory, its den, where it could control the
environment of their engagement at its discretion. This set he and Ruuhg ill at
ease more than the stench of the smoking town
He opened his eyes and peered out into the soft dawn, his peers having slept
fitfully while he Dreamed with Ruuhg, his body regaining its energy while his
partner filled his sleeping mind with his waking night. He saw only a
continuation of the prior day, except now the town was nearly gone, the people
but greasy smoke on the still and heavy damp morning air. He rose to sit, pulled
out his quiver and his supplies and checked his weapons, polishing and checking
their status carefully, the ritual gave his stoic self a foundation of calm on
which to rest.
Soon they would set out on their way to engage whatever was in the swamp, the
Druids had already been alerted and remained silent, neither approving nor
condemning their actions so far.
Still have 2-3 slots open.
We're opening the session to observers. Please contact me at xawakening@yahoo.com if you're interested in observing a session to see if its interesting and so we can all see if we're a good fit, no hard-no foul.
Our next session is Sunday November 6 at 1PM in Marietta. If interested, PM or email me for directions.
Bahir's spirit guide thrashed and railed within his chest against the anathema
that existed under the headman's house. Evil had lived within Silmar for an
untold time and had not only murdered hundreds of people but had corrupted the
link between spirit and flesh by arts most foul. As a shaman, Bahir felt an
especial pain watching the bodies in the basement animated by something other
than the spark of life. But as a Harkaad, Bahir mastered his feelings of rage
and revulsion and carried out his duty to understand what happened and why.
Using his magical talents Omrin discerned a link between the bodies, the thigh
bone talismans, and the flesh golem but he was more disgusted by the slime that
covered the bed. His disgust dominated his thoughts and he focused his energy
more on the inert slime than anything else. Bahir brought his attention back to
the situation at hand by striking the thigh bone altar with his spear, causing
the golem to reawaken and ask for instruction, and directing Omrin to attempt
communication with the cursed creature.
The golem seemed to understand language but his range of activity was limited
and he would only function if specific events transpired namely he was
programmed to require a body on the bed for the ritual to proceed. Morbid
curiosity and a desire to uncover the evil at foot prompted Bahir to make a
decision.
"Bring in Caedmon. He may yet serve a purpose," Bahir intoned.
Not understanding, or not wanting to understand, Omrin replied, "Put him on
that?" while pointing to the slime encrusted bed.
"Your masters desire answers. I shall not lie there unless you and Ardam would
try and force me but I would sell my life at heavy cost to both of you. Nor
would I ask you or Ardam to suffer a role in this depravity. Caedmon's life is
forfeit according to the laws of your Order. In this way he will redeem a
lifetime of waste and wanton frivolity," Bahir spoke and thought carefully for
a moment. "We do him a great honor by allowing him to rejoin our brotherhood
for this task."
"It seems so terrible. How will I explain this? Will you treat any injuries he
receives?"
"What happened to Silmar is terrible. A Peacekeeper must make hard choices to
root out evil and maintain peace. This is such a choice," Bahir said gravely.
"You will explain this by stating we did all within our power to complete the
mission. Your masters do not wish to be burdened with an excess of detail."
Omrin felt great moral tumult but reluctantly agreed. Ardam departed with great
haste to retrieve Caedmon. Little was said as the ritual took place but the
passing of Caedmon was not mourned for he died as he lived â€" wallowing in his
own slimy filth. Bahir was compelled to mutter a song of the spirit to mark the
passing but chose not to expend any divine energy while doing so.
As Caedmon's energy fled his body and rushed into the flesh golem who was
immediately invigorated with the infusion of life force, a great rumbling came
from deep within the earth. Taking the golem, who would name itself Liam, away
from what would soon be immortalized as the Sinkhole of Silmar, the party
departed from the cursed land that was just beginning to heal itself of the
corruption that had lain so heavy over the earth.
Thus the birth of Liam, a veritable Adonis, came to pass. Out of death, fire,
wastage, and foul magic a new life untouched by all those factors came to exist.
Bahir was not surprised to sense the mighty soul of an ancient Harkaad living
with the virile body of Liam.
We awoke and decided that in order to carry out the rest of our orders we needed to find out exactly what it had been that had been below the Ardman’s House. A Windrider had glided overhead earlier that morning while I had been on the roof on watch and I had given signs to advise them that sickness had been found and burned out and that it appeared we and a Healer were the only survivors.
The Windrider had dipped her Hawk’s wing in acknowledgement and turned and glided out the way she had come, headed back to report.
I explained this to my fellows but they were a determined lot and, I felt sympathy towards them, that we should complete what we had set out to do.
It was decided likely that we would have to go from the Ardman’s House to the swamps, where we had felt surely the evil presence had fled to the day before but Caedmon had adamantly refused to do so for, as he put it, the stains and the mud wouldn’t come out of his clothes or his boots.
I had warned you, my superiors, that he was a mistake to bring on such a mission. I had warned you that the stresses of the environment would be difficult for his conditioning to maintain itself. He seemed to revert and I was forced to use The Subdual.
Caedmon was left behind at the House of Healing to await our return, with the Healer to watch over him and make sure he didn’t soil himself or make mischief in his Subdued state.
Thus, we ventured to the Ardman’s House and discovered that as we had before, the aura of menace and dis-ease had faded, leaving only a bad memory. Despite this though, in the light of day, we were cautious and took great pains to investigate thoroughly before venturing into the House proper.
Not that it mattered much. The fires that we had set here, that had spread from this to the rest of the town with unnatural swiftness despite the finishes and sealants used to prevent such, had burned everything to ash or crumbling charcoal. Even the stones of the building themselves seemed to have been weakened and most had burst or crumbled, such as river stones baked in a very hot fire will sometimes do, leaving little of their original form behind.
We found the cellar easily enough, the doors had been burned off and it was the only topical feature left on the ground floor, the floor above4 having been ashed by the flames. Also, there were no bones or scraps of the things we had discovered and set fire to within, for they too had been burned to ash, leaving only traces of spoiled meat then over-roasted as a faint scent even the others could catch.
From here we used farm tools to clear the way and test the footing ahead, discovering a dark cellar below strangely only partially affected by the fire and heat from above. Some of the shelving and a single door remained; the door appeared untouched though most of the shelving around it had burned away to nothing.
We also discovered corpses of those things we had fought that had fled down here and yet succumbed to the heat, if not the flames, roasted into a state that not even whatever had motivated them beyond death before could them still sustain.
The door was a puzzle indeed, for upon close inspection by the Bard it appeared neither trapped nor locked and yet we were unsure of what lay upon the other side. It appeared unharmed by the flames and of course, this would mean that whatever lay beyond it would very likely also have remained unharmed by the flames.
Bahir, out doughty Shaman, struck the door fully with his spear and not only did it not give before his Harkaad might but that it shook him as if it had been made of stone!
Then, Omrin, our Bard and leader, took the door firmly to turn the knob and was struck down! A flash of blue, the crackle of lightning and ozone and seared pork and he fell against the flooring his hand sizzling and smoldering where the door’s handle had been trapped with Arcane magic.
As Bahir saw to Omrin’s wounds I fetched Caedon and used upon him the Words of Binding, sealing him to my will for a time so that we could make use of his skills without his cooperation. He determined that the door’s magic seemed largely expended but that here were enchantments still lingering.
Bahir’s quick and expert medical skills prevented a great loss of ability with Omrin’s right hand, used to play his lute and his salves worked quickly to halt and reverse the worst of the most-immediate of the damage. Still, Omrin will be forever marked by this event and shall be known for it henceforth.
As it was, in the end, magic was used to foil magic as Omrin used a Rune to turn the know and pull open the door without making direct contact with it, revealing to us what lay beyond.
Here I mist pause and drink fully of fortified wine for what I am about to tell sickens and horrifies me even now. Before, seeing the rotten and sickened bloated forms of the dead and those that had long since died and yet still flailed and moved with purpose unfathomable to natural men, we had been shaken and our dreams filled with unspeakable, unnamable horrors.
Now, it was perhaps more so.
Beyond the door lay a large long chamber, fully fifty feet deep, thirty feet wide and fifteen feet high with a few steps down into it. The floor was smoothed stone and angled so that there were gentle slopes created with the sides elevated and the center of the room slightly lowered, then the entry side higher than the far side which was just too far away to see in the gloom even for the Omrin and Bahir, who can see in the night.
But I could smell something from that end of the room, something Ruuagh and I felt was most-foul and yet while we could not see it, we would not be the first to go there. I drew and nocked arrow to my bow.
My fellows have learned to pay attention to Ruuagh’s behavior early on. What he does not eat, they will not eat. A way he will not go, they will not go. He is a wolverine, a creature known to be too mean for much wisdom and yet Ruuagh has given them good information.
They looked to him.
He planted his feet and growled at the room and refused to enter it.
And as a torch was lit and brought up, we all saw why.
For hanging from the ceiling were six men’s body’s, mutilated in some way. One appeared to have had all of his internal organs harvested, another was missing one leg and most of the bones in his torso, another his head was entirely gone, another the opposite leg and arm and so on- you begin to see a pattern. Further, these bodies were of men that even in death were quite fit and handsome, what was left that we could see. And in each, in the leg that was left, it seemed a thigh bone had been removed.
This seemed chilling to me, though I could not say why.
Ah, Master Endrell, you will frown upon reading this and berate me for being so poor at my Healing Arts. As we all know, I excel at War Arts, not healing, so this lesson that you had taught I had not remembered until much later.
Luckily, apparently Bahir was a better student than I.
Each of these men hung upon a meat hoot, as one would suspend a carcass for curing and carving in a slaughterhouse and yet there was no blood on the floor. Bahir ventured into the room first, his features pinches and telling me that the spirits of these men must be howling at him and his spear set and held before him ready to lay upon anything that moved. I behind him, Omron and then Caedmon behind then.
We searched out the area and found it deserted though there were many disgusting things. A large bed found at the end of the room seemed normal at first until we found a slime most-foul to have sopped the bed-sheets. Lifting, carefully not to be touched by, the end of one sheet we discovered a pool of this slime that seemed to well up from a tunnel of sorts and as such, was most foul smelling.
Before the bed was found a low table upon which lay the cleaned and intricately etched thigh-bones of the men hanging on the hooks behind us. And as they were disturbed we discovered something more horrifying than anything we had yet seen-
“Is it time mistress?” a man’s voice whispered and a large form shuffled into the light of the torch.
He was a massive man, with wide shoulders and a muscular torso, powerful arms and legs and aye, we had seen all of these before as they had been taken from the bodies that were behind us suspended from the ceiling.
We froze, like hares, trapped in a flash of light and unable to react.
I admit to thinking in the next heartbeat I would be slain in some horrific manner and hung next to the others….
But we weren’t.
As a matter off act, it merely stood there.
Omrin trilled a Melody and gazed about, discovering Necromancy had bound the though bones to the corpses and to the thing before us, linking them all together in some fashion. There were many spells in effect but that was the most powerful of them.
In the meantime, Bahir was examining the massive man and discovered that the parts from the other men appeared to have been sewn on. A twine of some sort had been used to lace the flesh together and looked half-healed and a little angry with infection, though he did not breathe or blink or seem in any way affected. He was also handsome, with long blond hair and blue eyes and a powerful jaw and expressive forehead.
In a controlled experiment, we disturbed the table again and when the giant prompted “Mistress” again, we attempted to reason with it. It did not respond. At this time Bahir reasoned that it had limited functions. I admit to feeling disappointment at this, having hoped that more knowledge would begin to clear up these maddening mysteries.
We discussed this and reasoned that perhaps we should answer yes, when the giant prompted us and observe its reactions. It had clearly done whatever this was repeatedly in the past and we needed a way to find out exactly what “it” was. And thus, we did.
What followed was chaos!
In the confusion the giant apprehended Caedmon, who could not move on his own and flung him upon the slimed bed. Taking one of the thigh bones he performed a “ritual” upon him that made the hanging corpses react as if they were alive. At the climax of the ritual a massive surge of energy came from Caedmon, shriveling him to so much ash and rushed through the giant to the corpses and then back to the giant! The giant absorbed this energy and seemed to have a fit, falling backwards onto the floor and thrashing about until finally it stopped moving.
In the torchlight we discovered that its wounds were gone, the angry punctures had become faint scars and the stitching had disappeared completely and that the giant now breathed, his eyes fluttering as if asleep and dreaming.
With a shout he started awake and sat up, demanding to know where he was, who we were and such.
But introductions would have to wait as the earth shook and the slime bubbled and heaved as if some massive object moved through it towards us!
We fled, of course, dragging our new link to the horrors with us and ran into Masters Darryn, Kadjeel and Noras who bade us flee for our lives and not stop until we reached the capitol.
We did stop, briefly, at the House of Healing to gather supplies and we looked back. The sight, to say the least, gave us impetus to make unnatural haste. For all of us saw the massive tentacle, a serpent really, rising into the evening twilight with a massive raw eyeball on the end instead of a beast’s head spewing fire from itself like some great serpent.
We did not stop until we were completely out of the Sylmar Demesne.
Next gaming session is Sunday November 6th at 1PM in Marietta if anyone wants to come observe. For directions PM me. If you won't be able to get there when we start- that's fine.
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