Treasure Hunt

Amaria meets MrNoName

It was the 11th hour of the day when Amaria climbed up the steps carved out of the giant tree her family was living in. She had spent her day in the woods, hunting and being close to nature, and would have continued doing so for a while when she was called back. The head of the family, her father, wanted to see her. Which was unusual enough.

Amaria entered the living quarters silently, noticing her father standing with his back to her, looking out the window.
“You have called for me, father?”, she asked while making a deep bow.

He turned around, surprised about her sudden appearance and opened his mouth to speak – but Amaria was confused when the next spoken words did not come from him, but from behind her.

“I have requested your presence, actually.”

Amaria whirled around. To the right of the entrance door that she had just entered, a young human male in a long black robe was standing, his hands folded. Her surprise was followed by shock as she realized, that she had not noticed him. At all. She, the hunter, had not noticed a puny human and had turned her back on him. In the wild, this could have ended in her death.

The man lifted his arms, slowly. “Forgive my sudden appearance, it was not my intention to startle you.”, he said, smiling warmly. He was pretty, for a human anyways. Young, dark hair, and strong green eyes. His back was straight and there was not even a hint of insecurity in his demeanor, which made Amaria immediately feel respect for him.

Her father stepped next to her. “Amaria, this man is part of a very powerful cult and has come to show his respect to our family. Please treat him like he was of our blood.” With that he stared at her intently for a moment, and then turned around and left the room without a word.

The young elf was confused. Her father was the head of the family, and he expected her to talk to somebody important… alone?

“Please, sit with me.”, the human used the moment of her hesitation to tell her to take one of the chairs from the round wooden table at the center of the room – and this in her own house. She sat, numb and slightly irritated, across from him.

“I am sorry…”, she said. “But I must have missed your name.”

“I would rather not lie to you, so I am not going to tell you a fake name.” He smiled while filling a cup with water, pushing it towards her. Again, in her own house.

“Alright, NoName. You have called for me – I am here. What is your business?”

He laughed and Amaria could not ignore that it was a pleasant laugh. This man was friendly and surprisingly charming, even with the few actions he took.
“Straight to the point, so different than your father – I like that. You are most certainly not a politician like him.”

“My inability to one day lead our family to great power has been his greatest disappointment. No need to humble me.” Amaria took a little sip from the cup.

The human smiled. “I would disagree, but you wish to hear what I want from you.” He took a sip from his own watercup. “As your father hinted at so nicely, I am part of a very powerful association called the ‘Cult of the Dragon’. Our members are only of the finest, richest and most powerful… Of course, we operate in complete secrecy.”

He waited, expecting her to speak but Amaria stayed silent. She had no interest in cults and new gods. She had her own deity Melora and had no use for anything else.

“Let me be frank with you, Lady Amaria. The city you are living in is in our control at this very moment. Everyone of status is following our leader, receiving orders from ‘Him’.”, he continued. “And there are great things in the future of those who are in favor of the cult and it’s leader…” The man looked up into her eyes and paused for a moment.
“The Cult is planning a great operation within this city. Tonight.”

Amaria stopped playing with the cup. “… So you are telling me all this… why exactly again?” She wondered if she should be worried about this Cult that he was speaking of. If what he spoke of was true, the leaders of such an association would hold great powers, and could shape the future of this city dramatically. But the man in front of her did not seem like a fanatic – he even calmed her in an odd way. No, she wasn’t worried. This was nothing to worry about.

The man leaned forward slightly. “This operation… I want you not to be part in it. I want you to leave the limits of this city for the whole night today and all day tomorrow. Then I want you to return.”

“What is this operation you are talking about?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, only members of the Cult are allowed to know the details. But it will bring great power to this city, I assure you.”

Again, Amaria was not worried and nodded. “I understand.”

“When you return, I want you to be the spokesperson for your family. With the help of the Cult you will bring great honor and power back into the house of Kennyrraheal. Even more than it was before your birth.”

“Of course…”, Amaria nodded slowly. “It would be an honor to be part of such a powerful association.” Something irritated her about the last sentence he spoke, but she could not quite grasp what it was. She had a hard time staying concentrated.

The man smiled. “That is just what I wanted to hear. Now go, Lady Amaria. And do not return until tomorrow night, just as I told you.” And he patted the back of her hand softly.

Amaria stood up and started moving to the exit. She would bring great power to her family – her father would be so proud.

“Oh and, Amaria?”

She stopped, turned around and tried to look at the figure sitting on the table. It was so hard to focus… odd.

“Please give my regards to your brother when you see him, would you?”

“Yes… of course…”

And with that Amaria turned again and left her home – never to see it again.

Meeting Amaria

The wind rustled the leaves of the thick forrest, while Zekyrr walked down a small beaten path. The humming and buzzing of the insects as well the constant crying of the birds in the tops of the trees made it hard for him to concentrate. Nothing hinted at the presents of another being – yet Zekyrr’s heightened senses told him a different story. He was already being watched.

Zekyrr stared to whistle. He was aware that his sister is probably out there watching him, and he didn’t want to appear nervous.
"You know, skulking through the weeds, and pretending I don’t know you’re there, has got to get tiring at some point!", He shouted.

Zekyrr slowed his pace. No need to get too deep in the forest in case things go poorly.

An arrow whistled past Zekyrr’s head and hit a tree trunk where he just had been standing a second before. Just a split moment later another arrow struck the ground right before his feet. The message was clear: Don’t you dare move!

A small figure dropped down from the top of the trees, landing right behind Zekyrr. He felt a cold blade touching his unprotected skin at his neck. “What is your name, drow?”, the cloaked figure growled – a female, just as Zekyrr had expected.

"My name is Firus Kennyrraheal… But my friends refer to me as Zekyrr.“, he responded. 
”Would I be correct in assuming you are Amaria?"

Zekyrr stood perfectly still, arms stretched out in a non threatening manner.

The woman hesitated. “… Firus Kennyrraheal… yes. I have heard of a drow carrying that name.”
She pushed the blade of her small knife even closer, scratching Zekyrr’s skin. “And I remember the shame I felt when I found out why the rest of our community thought our family to be cursed. What do you want from me… brother??”, she hissed with disgust in her voice.

“You should feel shame.” Zekyrr said with an edge in his voice.
"Any family that abandons a helpless child should feel exactly that. Shame.“

Zekyrr’s blood boiled with the anger he felt at being abandoned. At being rejected simply because he was born different.

”You should feel…" His voice trails off. His momentary anger replaced by sadness.

"I simply wanted to find out if you were alright. That you were safe.", he said.

For a long moment Amaria said not a word until she slowly removed the blade from Zekyrr’s neck.
“But…”, her voice small and broken – too much had she lost to have the strength to fight now. “Why?”

"Because we are family.“, Zekyrr said softly. He slowly lowered his hands and turned around to look into his sisters face. A sister he knew so little of.
”And because I have so little family left."

Amara was confused. There he was standing, right in front of her – The brother whose pure existence gave her and her family so much grief. Only a couple months ago she would have shot and killed without hesitation. And she would have been happy to do so.
But now, there was no family anymore. There was not even a home to go back to.
With a determined move she put her dagger back on it’s spot on her belt, while secretly blinking the upwelling tears out of her eyes.
“Fine.”, she said, staring back at the drow coldly. “There is no need to kill you just yet anyway.”

Zekyrr thought for a moment and then a tiny smirk appeared. “Yep. We must be twins. Because I was just thinking that exact same thing.”

But despite his attempt at levity, he noticed that she didn’t even crack a smile. So his smile faded. “Fine.”
"So now that we’re here, I have a question. Who attacked West Crook? And why target the elves?"

Amaria tilted her head slightly. “I do not know why, but I do know who. They are the reason why I am not staying in the town but also not leaving the general area. It was an inside job.”
She considered her words carefully. She was far away from trusting the drow before her, but she also knew that there was nothing she would accomplish alone.
“Have you ever heard of the Clan of the Dragon”?

Zekyrr thought for a moment. “No… My compatriots and I once fought dark Mages that turned into a giant skeletal dragon and to our knowledge, they had ransacked a nearby town. But I’m not sure it’s the same thing.”, he said.
"Who are they?"

“It is a secret and, from all I was able to find out, a very young clan. But powerful, with the followers being absolutely devoted to their leader.”
She nodded into the direction of West Crook. “The city was not raided by outsiders. The attack came from within. This is also the reason why only very little news about what happened have left the city gates.”
She paused, trying to give weight to her words. “The attackers and clanmembers consist of military leaders, nobles, rich tradesmen… practically everyone with influence in the area.”

Zekyrr thought for a moment. It didn’t seem fit in regards to the groups recent revelations. As tragic as it was, it could just be some sort of local disturbance. Still he could not shake the feeling that there had to be more to it than that. Why target only the elf population. 
"Who is the leader of this vile clan?", Zekyrr asked.

"A mystery." Amaria shook her head. "They tend to refer to their leader only as “HIM” or “The blessed one”. I do not think he resides in this city."
She moved her head and stared into the direction of her hometown.
“It angers me. So many dead, a third of the city is basically wiped out. And nobody seems to take action against the murderers.”

Zekyrr didn’t want to overstep his bounds and speak for the group, but this was his chance… Perhaps his only chance at connecting with his sister. After all, this is why he had come… Right? 
He had come to find her. To help her. And surely the others would understand.

“We will take action!”, he shouted. Zekyrr was shocked that it had come out so loudly.
"I mean, my friends and I… We would be delighted to help you track down these murderers.", he said.

Zekyrr really hoped he hadn’t just doomed them all to… Well, certain doom.

“That is… If you are sure you are done trying to kill me.”, Zekyrr said. He smirked again.

Amaria flinched at his sudden outburst. She distrusted his eagerness to help her – nothing that happened here had anything to do with him. Unfortunately for her she was alone, and she knew there was nothing she would accomplish this way, no matter how good of a hunter she was. This drow and his so called friends might at least be useful as bait, if anything.
“Fine. I will accept your help.”, she said, nodding. Then she stepped to the side, opening the path for Zekyrr.
“You lead.”
She would be an idiot if she ever would turn her back towards him.

>Let’s hope I won’t regret this…<,><excellent>

“Lead? Fine. Just don’t put a knife in my back.”
Zekyrr started the long trudge back through the forest.

Amaria followed quietly with her hand resting on the hilt of her weapon. When they passed one wide beech she jumped behind it just to reappear with a longbow and a quiver hung over her shoulder.
What an odd situation she found herself in. She inhaled deeply. Somehow she had the feeling that this would not end well…

Rowan and Dijani's Heart to Heart

It is night. The group has split up after being reunited. Rowan sits at the bar, behind which one of the monks cleans a glass.
Monk: “Didn’t you have enough already?”

Rowan continues to stare off into nothing, only occasionally taking the small sip of whisky form his glass. The book titled “The Ancient Legends of the Planes” sits on the bar next to him.
The monk hesitantly fills up Rowan’s glass for the 5th time and waits for a reply, but then just shrugs and goes on with monk business, silently grumbling.
“Just leave the bottle brother.” Rowan distantly says.

Monk slams the bottle back onto the bar “Fine. But I won’t carry you into your room.”

Rowan sits for a moment. Slowly, he reaches into a pocket and removes a small piece of paper. He stares at it, reading it slowly.

Dijani had been pacing around outside for near three hours. A few trees have deep and intense scaring as evidence to her outbursts of hurt, rage, and confusion. But as she heads back towards the door to the tavern, her demeanor is calm. . . too calm.
She pushes through the tavern door and pauses for only a moment. Of course HE would be the only one left in here. Not surprised. Dijani slowly makes her way to the bar, and takes a seat, leaving two empty bar stools between her and Rowan. Slowly, deliberately, she reaches for the bottle next to him, and takes a slow swig, not meeting his eyes should they turn to her.

Rowan gives Dijani a slow sideways glance, placing the note back behind his chest-plate. “Can’t sleep?”

Di finishes her long pull at the bottle, before placing it back down in front of her. She doesn’t even know what to say or how to start. She just keeps muttering something softly to herself. “No.” She manages at last. Then finally decides being a coward isn’t going to get her anywhere. She turns her head to Rowan. Yep, he was as she remembered, and a sharp pain fired in her chest at the memory forced on her by that damn portal. “You?” She asked back calmly.

Rowan turns back to his drink. His head low, he takes a long sip. It burns in his mouth like fire. Were that it was. He felt like he deserved it. “Nope.” He pauses for a moment and steels himself. “So. I’m guessing you talked to Rad?”

Though the crazy turmoil going on in her head she realized Rowan wasn’t just tired, he was bothered. She took a deep breath. She had to start getting information if she was to piece together what was happening. “No. . . I haven’t.” Then, with a tone that hinted at her hesitation, she spoke, “What happened in there.” She worked very hard to keep any hint of a growl from her voice.

The image of Nos being sucked through the portal created by the devils flashes through Rowan’s mind.

Rowan stares off into the mirror across the bar. The memory once again flaring, deeply and suddenly. He looked like hell, and he knew Dijani could see it. “We saw the past. Rad’s past. That shard took us somewhere into the Astral Sea. There was this girl see…” His voice trails off slightly as he slowly fades back into the memory, recounting the events of that day…

(See session 9 ;) )
As he finishes his story, he takes another long pull off his drink. “I failed Di. I couldn’t protect her. I knew what she would become. I knew she sent us back there to see it. I knew I had to do something to change the future and I failed. She was good, Dijani. She saved my life and I let her fall into hell for it.”
Di listened and her mind momentarily distracted by his story, that’s not what she had seen, and only confused her more. “I’m uh. .” Her words are awkward and a bit forced, but end with some amount of sincerity. “I’m sorry Rowan.” She is studying his face intently. Could she have been mistaken? Could it have simply looked like him? Some extended family perhaps. . . No. She had fought closely enough with this brazen human to know his face. But how. . . why?

“Thanks.” He muttered, slowly smiling at the bar. He was glad for the dragonborn’s company. He trusted her. They’d been through much together. He braced himself for the question he knew he had to ask. “So.” He took another drink. His face hardening. “Who’s Din?”

It was the small smirk that did it. That was the face. . . It was him. . . He did it. Suddenly she slammed her claw to the bar top “HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT NAME?” She thunders. He knew his name! How could he know his name?? Maybe it WAS him. . . She shrank back a bit, taking a long deep breath, her mind a blur. Just because he was there, doesn’t mean he corrupted Din. You don’t have all the information Dijani. . . Rowan deserves some benefit of doubt. . . He deserves it. . . She grabs the bottle and takes another long pull, not looking back at Rowan, working to control herself.

Rowan had half expected this. He knew from the moment he met her that something deep and horrible had been troubling her. He had seen this rage before. The memory of the day they fought the bone-dragon washed over him. “You talk much in your nightmares my friend. I’ve heard that name from your lips often in the dead of the night.” He remembered what she had once told him, her rage spent after the battle. He had told her that whomever she sought, was as good as dead if he could help it. The sympathy creeps over his face. “Is he the one you seek to kill?”
Dijani swallows hard. Nightmares? She actually grew embarrassed momentarily before the chaos crept back in. That’s how he knew. Calm yourself, you need information, not blood. After a long pause, she nods. “A long time ago I rescued a human child. Raised him. . .” She pauses and clears her throat, almost growling at herself “And he destroyed everything.” Dijani grumbled at herself. She tried hard to keep the tough exterior, to distract herself from the old Di, the Di that would have loved and cared for a child not her own, and protected him with her life. . . And the Di that still bled from that wound. “He killed my Tribe. My friends, my family.” Her tone was now cold. “And I need to know why.” It was an honest response, but as she said those icy last words, her eyes turned to Rowans, hard as stone, searching for any clues in his face or reactions that would give him away.
Rowan nodded quietly and looks Dijani in the eye. “I’m… Sorry. For what it’s worth Dijani. I am.” Rowan can’t think for a moment. This monster. Din. Dijani’s son. Adopted true, but still. Her boy. The one who corrupted Nos. The one who started this engine of death and set it in motion. “Hopefully you get to him before I do. He isn’t exactly my most favorite guy in the world right now.” The memory of the priestess surges into his mind, and the words she spoke, ‘I existed there. All but dead. Until HE found me, and filled me with new purpose.’ He shakes his head, dispelling the memory.
Dijani blinks confused, and without even thinking she blurts out “Wait what?” She just stares at him, looking somewhat suspicious now. “What are you talking about.” Why would Rowan want to get at Din? If it was for her sake alone, she was touched by the extent of his loyalty, but that didn’t seem like the case. Dear Sahanine, Dijani was a big bag of confusing feelings. Suddenly, she found herself feeling defensive. . . almost protective. . . Perhaps she was just feeling possessiveness over Din and his fate. . . or perhaps she was feeling protective of her so- of Din. She shook her head to clear it before looking back to Rowan for an answer.

Rowan’s eyes closed. He rubbed at his temples. The dull pain throbbing in his head like the beating of drums. He felt old. “Nos… Not Nos, the Priestess. She said lots of things before we left… She said that something found her after eons of existing in the Dawn War. Someone dark. It took her and turned her. Made her wrong. She suggested that it was Din… I’m sorry but… I don’t mean to put this on you, but you need to know.” He had been feeling this since he had come back through the portal. It had been gnawing at the edges of his mind, behind the grief and the loss. “There’s something bigger going on here. I don’t know what it is, but Din and Nos are involved. She said a lot of things before we came back. I don’t know if any of them are true, but if they are Din may be a greater threat than we know. He pulled Nos out of the Dawn War. Nothing survives there unless it’s super powerful or has divine protection…” He trails off momentarily, his own words sinking in. “I don’t know what’s true in all of this, but I do know one thing. We’re all tied into this somehow. We’re all important to whatever they have planned. And the time for secrets is coming to an end.”

Dijani listens intently and a wild hope grows in her heart. Before she can recognize the sheer stupidity of it, it comes pouring out “Wait. . . If the Priestess was good, and this ‘He’ turned her. . .” She knew it sounded ridiculous, and she hesitated, but it was out now. She might as well finish the hope of a thought. “Could it be possible that this ‘He’ isn’t Din. . . perhaps this ‘He’ turned Din in the same way as Nos. . . .” She couldn’t help it, her heart clung to the hope. The hope that, like Nos, Din wasn’t entirely evil, didn’t destroy her life simply on his own. . .

Rowan sighed. He pours another glass of whiskey. The headache was getting worse. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’d be lying if the thought hadn’t occurred to me that this could all be some ploy. Something meant to turn us against each other, I just… I don’t know…” He breathed a deep sigh. He had thought the thought, but had dreaded to think it. Hadn’t dared to give it words. He had to believe that Nos could be brought back. He wanted to believe. But the logic of his words brought the dark thought into sharp relief. ‘What if Nos corrupted Din? What if she couldn’t come back?’ Rowan banished the thought with another gulp of whiskey. He stood up slowly, reaching back into his armor and removing the letter. He hesitated for just a moment, before handing it to Dijani. “I found this in my pocket when I got back. I’m not sure when she put it there or which version of her did it. I’m not sure if it’s even true. I just… It might be important.” He hands the crumpled note to Dijani before slowly walking out of the tavern.

As he hands her the letter, she grabs his arm. Before she even reads it, she studies his face once more, then decides she has to make the decision to trust and be honest with this human. . . her friend. It served her ill once before, her caring trusting nature, and she just hoped lightning wouldn’t end up striking her twice. “Rowan. . . It was you.” She hesitated, and seemed to take it back. “I mean. . . I don’t know. I. . .” She sighed and decided to be out with it. “I was caught as the portal closed. I got a glimpse of what that Lady Saharel told me. I saw. . . I saw Din, back when he was MY Din, young and innocent.” Her voice catches only momentarily before she forces it on. “And there was a man. A man who told Din that he wanted to become a God. Din became interested and wanted to know how it could be possible. . . Rowan it was you. You were the man with Din. You were the one tempting him to be a God. You were older, gray haired and wrinkled. . . but it was you.” Her voice sunk to nearly a whisper. The note he had given her still in her hand, not yet read.

The monk walks right into the two staring at each other with a bunch of clean glasses on his arm. “Oh! Sorry…” He turns around on the spot and walks out.

Rowan’s mind couldn’t process what he had just heard. He recognized the words, but his mind refused to fully grasp the totality of their meaning. It was like he had been dropped naked into a frozen lake. He looked around slowly for a moment, at nothing in particular before slumping heavily into the wooden chair next to him. He rubbed his face into his hands, letting her words sink in. He had already failed to protect one person he had cared for today, and this news hit him like a bolder. Could this be? Would this become his fate? Was he destined to hurt everyone he cared for? He tried to compose himself, but only managed to force a weak smile. “Well, I wish I could say that you’re the first woman to call me a ‘god.’ Though I must admit when I hear it, it’s usually under better circumstances.” He swallowed hard. His stomach full of ice and his voice low. “A vision from Lady Saharel? I mean, can you be sure?” His mind wandered back to the note in Dijani’s hand. Could it be true? Was he really cursed?

Dijani watched him, and couldn’t help but enjoy his small, half hearted joke. But the air was too heavy to allow it to lighten the mood. “It wasn’t Saharel, not this time. This was the portal’s doing. I don’t know what happened to you and Rad, but I was there, standing in the grass, looking at my. . . at Din. They couldn’t see me, but it was you.” She pauses for a moment, before taking a deep, if slightly weak, breath. “Look. We don’t know what this means. We don’t know if you had anything to do with Din’s corruption, it didn’t truly show us anything.” Dijani was speaking for her own benefit more even than for Rowans.

“Yeah. Yeah I guess you’re right.” The words fell out form his mouth, though they didn’t make him feel any better. “What about the others? I have to believe they all have some part to play in this as well. Do we tell them about all of… This?”

Dijani sags to the floor, leaning back against the chair Rowan’s occupying. “The others.” She grumbles, only now taking the time to pick the various pieces of tree bark out of the spines and scales on her tail. "Well. Rad needs to know. He’s tied up in this as well, Nos was his student, and he was in on all this crazy business. The rest. . . " She doesn’t know if she really cares to bring anyone else in on this, mostly because she’s embarrassed to have to open up and trust one more individual than she has to. “I just don’t know.”

“Rad.” Rowan half laughs the name. “I love the little meatball, but I think he may be a few cards short of a deck. I think Nos took a little more than his memories. The other three? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” He sat for a moment, enjoying the small moment of silence. Slowly a thought occurred to him. Uncontrollably a low, long chuckle began to rise from him.

Dijani sat and nodded. Rad did sometimes seem blissfully passive and unaware about everything that has been going on. She sat quietly. Zekyrr? He seems to be honest enough, but Di’s not sure she’s ready to trust him fully. Vril has been with the group too little to earn trust. . . and that Bard. . . She snorts a little. Suddenly, from behind her head, she hears Rowan start to chuckle. She looks over at him with a raised brow, somewhat concerned for his sanity. “Uh, what’s funny?” she asks hesitantly.

“I just. I can’t imagine…” He almost couldn’t hold back his laughter, “Look at the two of US? I mean hells! Can you imagine what DINFAR’s roll in all of this is?” He kept laughing. “He’ll be all ‘Hey guys. Don’t mind me, I’m just going to sing the song that ends the world! Oh don’t worry, It’ll be fun!” The thought was absurd. He must have been more tired than he thought, but it felt good to laugh at least.

Dijani snorted at first “That bard will be the end of me if he has anything to say about it.” But she couldn’t help but join in on the laughter. What a crazy group they had assembled. Dijani then took a moment to look back at the note Rowan had given her, and read through it.

we have not known each other very long, so forgive me for butting into this. But I felt it is necessary to let you know.
I may be young and not as experienced as my master is, but I do recognize a curse when I see one. And your curse looks really nasty.
Someone in your family (not you, you seem nice), must have been responsible for many - and I mean MANY – deaths. I cannot tell you what exactly that means for you or your blood relatives… but please, whatever you do, be careful.

She sighed a bit as her laughter came to an end and she handed the note up over her shoulder to Rowan. “So, you don’t happen to have a twin brother do you?” It was more a grumbled joke than any sort of honest question. "I suppose we’ll just have to see how this plays out. "

“I guess. I do actually have a twin sister. We couldn’t be less alike though. Sometimes I can’t believe that we’re related at all.” His mind wandered back to his family. His father, and his brothers and sisters. Could one of them truly be a murderer? The thought seemed impossible. They all held themselves in such high regard. Well, most of them did. “My little sister though. She’s got potential. Not too bad with a blade actually.”

Dijani was asking more out of hope that it wasn’t actually Rowan she had seen in her vision, but she let it pass. It was wishful thinking anyway. “Yeah? Where is she at?” She figured it would get his mind off things to make some small talk. She leaned back, accidentally scooting his chair back a few inches as she leaned against it, but then settled into a half recline.

Rowan thought for a second. “Caenon? I don’t really know actually. My family and I didn’t exactly part ways on the best of terms. I haven’t really been in touch.” He sighed heavily. He thought back for a moment. Something was gnawing at him, like a splinter in his mind. Hadn’t someone else also received a note recently? Something about their family? But who… Rowan sat upright. “Zekyrr…”

Dijani blinked and looks up again “Zekyrr? What about him?” She was actually happy enough to steer away from the subject of family, it was a bit painful for all involved it seems.

“Zekyrr got a letter. Remember? That night we first met. After the Kolbold cave and the Dragon. Zekyrr got some ‘mysterious’ letter. He really wanted to go somewhere but we all decided to come here instead… I mean, It’s got to be related right? How could It not be??”

Dijani sits up , leaning on her knees and thinks. “You’re right. . . He did get something, and seemed pretty torn up about it. . . well” she catches herself, “as torn up as old knife-ears seems to get.” she thinks for a minute. “Well, if we can get Mr. Tall dark and stoic to open up about it, it might be a good next step.”

“It’s the only real lead we’ve got. I mean it can’t be a coincidence right?”

Dijani nods, then pushes herself back to her feet. “Well, it seems like that’s our next step. But for now, what’s say we try to find some sleep. Can’t kill things on no sleep now can we.” She looks back at him “Thanks for the talk Rowan. We’ll get this sorted sooner or later. Till then. . .” she pauses for only a moment. “I got your back.”

Rowan smiles and lifts himself out form his chair. The last few days had taken a toll on him, and he needed rest. “Back at ya. Just do me a favor all right?” Rowan smiled as they walked toward the door, “Could you at least try to not completely cover me with poisoned dragon-vomit? Seriously, that crap is hell to clean out of armor.”

Dijani grins a toothy grin as they leave the tavern. “Aw come-on. Green is totally your color.”

The Dawn War
Session 9

It’s only been a few hours since Rad and I left the Astral Sea and the Gethyanki tower behind us, but it feels like it’s been an eternity…

I think Rad could see that I was having a hard time with everything that had happened, so he gave me his journal to write in. I think maybe he thought it would help. Maybe it will.

I’ve been called a failure before; a failure as a student, a failure as a man, a failure as a brother and a son. Yesterday was the first time I’ve ever really believed it. It all started once we breached the Githyanki Tower of Eternity. We did our best to mend the injured and wounded, but their numbers were great. Soldiers, women, children… The battle that preceded our arrival must have been truly vicious. We did the best we could, but it would not be an understatement to say that on that day, the corpses outnumbered the living. We were making a little bit of progress, at least until all the nine hells broke loose.


The bells heralded their arrival. The legions of devils filled the sky, and blocked out whatever passed for a sun in the Astral Sea. I’d never fought devils before, but I was more than happy to give them a quick trip back to their maker. Nos was… Particularly effective in dispatching them. Girl was a hell of a fighter… Is. IS a hell of a fighter.


At some point she noticed one particular devil floating in the Astral Sea who, as best she could tell was attempting to open a portal. Not knowing what or whom it was attempting to bring forth, she and I resolved to load ourselves into a nearby catapult so that we could get close enough to the thing for her to begin the counter spell. It was my job to protect her as she did so…

Our aim was off. We were floating in the Astral Sea too far off from our target. I should have stopped her. I should have tied a lifeline to her. I should have done SOMETHING, but I froze. She vaulted off me, sending me back toward the tower and her towards the devil. She completed her spell, but not before the devil’s portal opened long enough to pull her in.

Rad was waiting for me when I floated back to the tower, and so was “she.” The dark priestess. Nos. The version of her from our time. The shadow of what she would become. She said that somehow, things happened differently in this timeline. That in her version of events, It was Rad next to her in the catapult, and that he was sucked into the portal with her.

They ended up in the Dawn War. The small bits I’ve been able to find in the monastery’s history books about it say that it was an ancient war at the dawn of time between the gods and the primordials. The Devils were attempting to open a rift and release the ambient energy of both sides to destroy the Tower of Eternity. She and Rad drifted in that plane for centuries, apparently protected from the chaotic energies by their divine faith. Whether to protect him from madness or to spare him some other terrible fate, the Priestess said that eventually, she had to rip the memories of their time in the Dawn War form Rad’s mind. She told us that she slowly existed there for centuries. Never aging, just… Existing. That her mind slowly just drifted away to something like a waking death.

Eventually, she said that “He” found her. That “He” brought her back and gave her a new purpose. When pressed about who “He” is, she simply said to “Ask the dragonborn…”

Could “He” be the one Dijani seeks? In the late of night I’ve heard her say a name in the fitful throws of her nightmares.


I promised to help her in her quest for vengeance, but now? Well… Now she’s going to have to race me for his head.

So, the way I figure it, here’s what I need to do:

Step one, find some way to save Nos. Either in this world, the other, or both. Somewhere in some other version of our plane, she’s drifting in the dawn war. Only this time she’s alone and it’s all my fault. That, I will not let stand.

Step two, find Din and plant an axe in his face.

I don’t know how I’m going to do either of these things, but I figure as long as our little group sticks together, I’ll get my shot eventually. We’re important to them somehow, and I aim to figure out why.

Before she left though, she did say something that stuck with me. She said that “we didn’t change anything.” She’s wrong though. I was there, and I saw a different version of events play out. I may have failed to save her from her fate, but maybe, just maybe my having been there will be the little push that the line of events in that universe needed to turn out for the better…

Well… It’s a comforting thought at least.

Either way, it goes to show she didn’t account for one thing. One thing that will ruin her and Din’s plans…



Unleash the Kracken!
Session 8

So we find out that the Shard that i got from the Black Priestess, was really a shard of portalage! this portal will take us to the abyssal plane! Holy crap i haven’t seen that place in , well i don’t really remember! But im sure its been a looooong time ;). When the portal is created, I jubilantly dive into the portal in hopes of seeing something or someone i know from my past present or future…Rowan walks close behind, not that close were totally straight…Apparently the others were unable to get Dijani through the portal, because after rowan stepped through, the portal snapped shut! This place feel like home and the air feels cold just how i like it! The asteroid we landed on when the portal closed is large but vacant of any interesting features. But that Kracken headed right for us looks VERY VERY interesting. I still don’t feel like were in danger at all, i wonder why that is. Actually this all feels like I’ve been here and done this all before. We obviously would have been totally screwed if it not for a Githyanki clad abyssal ship! Well alright alright! Thats what im talkin’bout! Hey whos that on the ship, she looks awfully familiar, oh snap its Nos my former student from my past, or so i learned, i still have a large gaping void in my memory. Ir really hope to rectify some of that void here and now! But at the moment we need to fight a muthafucking Kracken! The abyssal war ship has 4 pretty badass looking canons in which we use to dispatch the Kracken in glorious spleandor. I teach these Githyanki pirates my famed battle cry! RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD! As i continue to plug that Kracken sob in the face with hot lightning balls! lol. So after the decimation of the Kracken beasty, to learn a wee bit more about my former student, i reach my hand out and touch the side of her head….i look deep within the furthest reaches of her mindscape and realize that not only was she my pupil, but i saw Nos as a daughter. I raised her and i was for all intents and purposes her Father. This all gets pretty emotional for me, well as emotional as a shardmind can be. I tell her that I will never truly leave her side. I mean unless some weird thing with a catapult sends her away from me and i am unable to do anything about it……..What are the odds.

Nos says that the last time she saw me i was on that same asteroid meditating. It makes me wonder, jsut where the hell my doppleganger wandered off to! Nos has always mentioned that they were on a mission of mercy and aid, to the tower of ( ENTER NAME HERE ) Sorry i really cant remember the name :/ We have to sneak by in order to gain entry to the tower, there seems to be a secret well not so secret entrance near the base of the tower. We inspect that entrance…as i see Rowan throw caution to the wind and jump in i dive in after him, follower closely by Nos, or it may have been a different order…When we come tumbling out from the entrance, the stone door behind us closes with a thud! What the hell is this place! theres a switch in the middle of the room and a big booming voice has just started saying " 10, 9 ,8 ,7 … My paranoia gets the best of me when i think of the horrible things that could happen if this countdown ends! Rowan decides to try out the switch in the middle of the vast room and discovers that the switch resets the timer countdown. Well what the hell!! Theres seemingly no way out of this room…in a desperate attempt to find the way out, i shatter myself into a thousand small Radshards and scour the outer walls to try and discover any cracks or seems that could lead to a door! Success! We find another way out, now if we could just open that door. It seems no magic or brute strength can open this door. It looks as if we will have to wait out the countdown and see what happens. after all theres not much else to do! As the final numbers for the countdown approach i think of all the horrible things that could happen, but to my glee the only thing that happens is the exit has opened up! Being as i am a highly curious individual, i really wanted to know what happens to you if you hit the switch when the door is already opened, but Nos gave me a knowing look as if to say, “Really? Now? Really!?” So i kick a pebble on the floor look at my feet and follow Rowan out of this room. We come upon an enormous room, way more enormouser than the map that the DM god had provided! lol It seems there are quite a few injured and there is a cleric named ( NAME OF LADY CLERIC ) I quickly take control and say, “take me to the most woundedest Githyanki soldier”! The end! :D

Session 7

So we wake up in spell guard after a harrowing descent from the hinterlands, or somewhere I cant remember … it was super awesome, I became a wheel… a wheel people! Anyhow we make it to monastery or precipitation and I set myself in the corner of the local bar where Rowan Dijani, Z, and Vril start to drink , rather heavily…. I go into my meditative state…..Colors swirl about my unconscious mind, flowing in and out I see blurry visions of Chaos madness drunken stupors and insecxtual deviance…. I Open my eyes in a shock. Whoa that was crazy, what a waking dream that was. Come to find out there was rowdy mayhem and frivolity in which I was not apart of and of which I only saw short glimpses because of my meditative state. I suppose it was for the best, is this urine on my foot!!!?

We head to the Monastery of precipitation where we meet a dude or 2, one dude is like WHOAH you guys … another dude or chick, I don’t really remember was all, WHOAH look at your crystal. So we give those guys the box with the skull in it “ashtray”and the Crystal “mood crystal”that was given to me by a woman oh whom I have no clue where this person is in my memory.. maybe she only knows me? Could be, a possibility since occasionally when I let go of a shard, a bit of my essence goes along with it, and usually the only thing I lose is a trivial memory such as, the ability to do cursive writing. I mean who cares , not like im writing tomes these days, AM I RIGHT YALL!? So anyhow, we find this halfling super warrior beast and we convince them to hang out with us and go check out the tower of Flubulaaa, or something. But before we even get there, we are attacked by like 5 douchebags , and 1 dude that keeps giving his dudes temporary hit-points, I mean what the hell! Jerk… So you would think that guy would be the first we kill right? Naa we like a challenge so we take out practically everyone else before that guy. We murder, I mean “incapacitate” the enemy and were all like, dude one of them got away! I’m like BROs, they were like DUDE! Then we were like meh, what could happen?

Oh right and that Super beast warrior was in actuality , the janitor… AND once we bust up this dude trying to take over the tower of Flabulabingbong, then we can ask this Ghost chick something we are itchign to know about. I’ll eaither ask, Can I really ask anything? THEN i’ll ask her REALLY!?

OR I may ask about the woman who went out of her way, destroyed a town making various jelly villagers to make a full grown bone dragon, just to saunter by me and fling an old crystal at me… I mean cmon… bitch right!?

The Drunken Barfight
Session 6.5

(Coming Soon)

On to Spellguard!
Session 6.0

Every day small pieces of who I once was seem to drift away. Even more frightening is that I can’t bring myself to care. Universes away my life moves on without me, while I push towards my own goal. Until I reach it, all I can do is try to find enjoyment in whatever distraction comes my way.

And distraction is absolutely what I found.

With the addition of Vril, an insect like sapient who quite literally fell at our feet, our sorted group now numbers six, if you include the bard. . . wherever he’s at. And it seems like they just can’t seem to stay out of trouble, which suits me just fine. So when the ground began to shake, and several undead skeletons rose from the earth, none of us seemed all too shocked. With a sigh, I readied my sling once more, to take on the cloaked lady’s minions.

May I just say, I highly disrespect cowardice. Yes, I’ve been known to slip a blade between a few shoulder blades but the blood is on my hands. This cloaked woman sends others to do her bidding. . . coward.

However we didn’t quite expect what came next. The bone beings seemed to burst apart, then all at once come back together in a swarming mass. Confused, all we could do is watch as the bones reconnected to form a large hulking beast which faintly resembled a dragon. Racist sons of —

But as offended as the new form made me, Rowan, who has made clear his disdain for the undead, seemed livid, if not strangely excited. Vril started looking for his inter-dimensional portal, and Rad dropped a shardicle (which I have found make wonderful ammunition for my slings.) As Rad and Rowan decided to try and communicate with the creature by making random zombie noises, Zekyrr surprised us all by taking the initiative and loosing a strong twin attack on the beast. With the battle begun, we all leaped into the fray.

In the short time we have been together, our little mismatched group has really developed a hell of a strong sense of teamwork. The group made pretty quick work of the bone dragon, and though I didn’t contribute much to this particular fight, it was heartening to be able to sit back and observe my still somewhat new comrades fight.. Rowan’s strength and vigor seemed doubled in the face of the undead threat, Rad and Vril held their own against the beast, but it was Zekyrr that ended the fight as he began it, splitting the dragon’s bones with his arrows. . . I may have underestimated that one. And it seemed the fates deemed him worthy of a reward, as Vril pulled a fancy new crossbow out of the rubble. I’ve never seen that stone faced Drow so excited. . . in more ways than one.

What happened next is a bit of a blur. . . The cloaked woman returned to gloat, and I noticed that Rowan’s distaste for necromancy and dark magic could be easily swayed if it was attached to a hot piece of ass. But the woman ignored the rest of us and headed straight to Rad. She pulled the shard from around her neck and held it out to the Shardmind. Rad swallowed it as per usual with his stray shards, but it didn’t seem to want to connect with him the way his other shards do, and in his confusion he spit it back up for further study. The woman then spouted her threats at Rad and I admittedly lost my patience. I stood next to Rad, whom I’ve actually found myself growing fond of, and hissed at the woman. To my surprise, she actually responded and moved in close to me to whisper in my ear. "Don’t worry. HE is coming for you too… Your sad life will end by his hand and it will be glorious.” . . . and this is where things get a bit confusing. At first I didn’t understand the words as anything but boasting. But as I met her eyes once more her meaning became clear.

She knows Din.

The memories I had worked so hard to bury unwillingly flooded back into my mind, and seemingly an instant later I was staring into the shifting colored shard face of Rad, and had fallen to the ground. Everyone looked a bit frightened and Rowan was there to try and calm me. . . Dear Sehanine, I hope I didn’t hurt anyone.

Rowan was speaking to me in Draconic, and all I could bring myself to say is “I have to find him. . . He killed my family.” It was more than I had anticipated on sharing, but there it was. Rowan didn’t press further other than to give me his assurance that he at least would help me track her down. . . probably because he wanted to get in her pants, but I decided to take what help I could get. After another investigation into the shard Rad had gotten from the woman, we decided that the clerics at Spellguard would be the best suited to help with that problem as well.

We pressed on, though I stayed towards the rear, still confused and embarrassed at the impact the hooded woman’s words had on me, and how easily I had lost control. Before I realized, we had made it to a small town that seemed to be in distress. Zekyrr snuck down to the town, before returning to report that the town seemed undefended, only the very young or very old seemed to be wandering about. After some discussion, Rowan lead us all down to the village whom, as much as I can gather, turned out to be the collective victim of the hooded woman’s evil. We now knew where she found all the bones, and she didn’t feel the need to take the rest of the pieces along. I was distracted through most of the conversation by the site of a small human girl crying over one of the remaining flesh piles. Surprisingly enough it was Zekyrr who comforted me, the scene seemed to concern him as well.

Once Rowan finished speaking with the town cleric, Sareth, the group decided to escort him to Spellguard. It made sense, we were all heading there anyway and the wagon would make it a much more pleasant trip. . .Of course pleasant may be an overstatement.
For 4 days we traveled in that cramped wagon, and let me tell you, having to share a small sleeping space with 4 male adventurers, none of which have bathed in who knows how long, was a true trial of my patience. But finally, as the “Are we there yet?!”‘s started, we caught site of the tall gates to Spellguard through the trees. . . of course that’s also when we heard the calls of the orc hoard. As the wagon pushed to full speed, and we broke through the tree line, every Orc in the area seemed to spill out of the woods.

It was a desperate push to the gates, I toppled off the back, Rad had to become a wheel, Rowan stabbed a horse. . . it was mayhem. But somehow, with Vril’s concealing cloud and Zekyrr’s arrow skills, we managed to topple our way through the gates and to safety. We made it, finally, to Spellgard. . . And I need a drink.

The Men in the Black Pajamas
Session 5.0

PROLOGUE: Bug In a Cage

Three weeks, near as I can figure.

Three cramped but comparatively tolerable weeks since I found my (semi)-permanent shelter, but this part of the Bulette skull is showing signs of weakening from the pressures outside. I spent what seemed like days out there before this; terrified, blind and choking on the mud and silt and gods-know-what-else that seems to make up this entire Plane.

My name is Vril, and I’ve developed a case of acute claustrophobia.

Moving around in here is tricky, so I do as little of that as possible. Gotta keep checking for new stress fractures though. Occasionally I find a xill or peat-worm colony trying to reclaim my new home for itself. It’s no picnic, but it’s better than being stuck Outside, drowning and being half pulled apart by that churning, twisting ocean of dirt.

Three weeks. At least that’s what it feels like.

No sign of the others. Gods I hate this place.

Eight rations left (is my metabolism speeding up?) I may actually have to go out and hunt for food in this muck. I ready my equipment, try to sleep. Can’t. Tides of gravel and raw metals brush against the outer walls, almost like waves.

Then something bumps the frontal plate from the outside. Hard. I hear AND feel the impact. Must be big. A pause, then it happens again… followed by a sharp grinding sound from both sides. Something big and ALIVE, then.

I snatch my supplies in case I have to swim outta here, which might be soon from the awful sounds the skull’s making. How could anything have found me? How could anything find ANYTHING in this place? I ready a burst of force to stun this whatever-it-is before it crushes me alive, when I hear that familiar crackling/buzzing noise. After three years of dreading that sound, this time it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. THE PORTAL!

It takes its sweet time opening; large chunks of the Bulette’s nasal bones rain down around me, as I try everything I can think of to speed the process. The grinding gets louder and closer, and I can see teeth and a pair of wormlike tongues through a hole below me when I’m suddenly yanked into a corridor of light and I black out.

Conscious thought eludes me for a time.

  • * *


First to come back is sounds. Voices, I think. Too irregular and tonal to be anything else.

My muscles won’t do what I want them to. I’m lying on my side, I can’t see but I can feel I’m drenched in that same planar residue that makes each one of these Jumps so pleasant.

At least I can breathe. Keep breathing then. Play it cool, maybe they didn’t see the giant lightning-hole that must’ve spat you out a few seconds ago. Or hours. Why can’t I move?

Sharp jabs to my midsection. Faster talking from bodiless voices. Be with you in a moment, just have to remember how to blink, talk and sit up…

I’m yanked up bodily, and someone in my brain finally decides to turn on the lights. I blink and focus. Whatever’s holding me almost drops me. After a few garbled phrases in the Old Speech, I register their shouts of surprise as the Common Tongue. Which means I’m back on EARTH!

We run through the usual exchange; no, I won’t kill you, please don’t kill me, my that’s a large steak-knife you have there… They look and sound friendly enough, though I’m surprised to see a Shardmind out here, and I’ve only read about things like this large reptilian (possibly male from its voice). …And a BLACK ELF? Now I’ve seen everything. Amidst all this novelty I find the Human to be somewhat of a reassurance.

I’m made aware of the current… ah… unfortunate circumstances plaguing the group, and agree to come with them in search of a monastery where they hope to fulfill a certain promise —and hopefully shed some light on my “dimensional leapfrog” situation.

We travel for a few hours, and suddenly it gets really dark. Sunset should still be a couple hours off (unless something’s gone REALLY screwy with this plane since I was last here)… Then I catch a hint of arcane energy in the oddly still air. Not quite the Forbidden Arcane, but the closest thing I’ve felt since that first portal swallowed me three years ago.

I can still “see” of course —this soup is thicker than any natural darkness, but I can make out a group of figures up ahead. Hoods and cloaks, weird symbols on their backs.

These dudes look like bad guys, no matter where you’re from.

The darkness dissipates as if by command, and the human gets a whiff of something he doesn’t like… something that makes him tense up all over. Mutters what sounds like “Undead”. That fits. Their aura reeks of dark magic, whatever anyone wants to call it. Part of my brain has already decided to kill these guys, and the rest of the group looks to be of the same opinion. The cultists draw their weapons and the party begins.

It doesn’t last long; my new friends cut through ‘em like jelly. I throw up a defensive cloud, which the Drow uses to potshot more goons with ease. Despite their apparent familiarity with magical darkness, the cultists seem inept at reaching us through my small shroud. I try a few lightning attacks, but the atmosphere doesn’t react the way it should. I resort to whacking one of these clowns with my staff. Seems to do the trick.

While searching the bodies, we come across a matching set of amulets, apparently powerful enough to burn skin. The human (Rowan as he calls himself), has the good sense to use cloth to retrieve the item when the darkness descends again and we are greeted by its source.

She’s of average height, in a cloak and hood much like the goons we just slaughtered. I sense a great deal more power emanating from her, and from the red crystal slung about her neck, which smells an awful lot like my Shardmind companion. The usual threats of destruction and ruin are issued, and once again my lightning fails me as she makes a leisurely exit.

I’d be resolved to chase after her, but the Dragonborn taps me on the shoulder. It isn’t until then that I notice the horde of skeletons shambling toward us out of the rapidly lifting darkness…

Festivals & Folly
Session 4.0


So I have finally gotten a moments respite to update our journal. I must admit we never had need for much writing back home, and so recording my thoughts does not come natural for me.

But I digress… and apologize if this is not as extensive as my last entry. It was quite a day.

Dinfar and I had finally managed to find out way back to the rest of the group, only to be thrust back into adventure. The others in our absence had discover the lair of that foul individual, Malareth.

After a brief discussion about which door to try (as there was a northern and a southern entry), we opted to try the northern one. Our brave compatriot Rowan, upon hearing the sound of the undead inside… and as he is driven by his hatred of all things undead, attempted to kick open the the door.

I regret to inform you that his attempt was unsuccessful, and we were forced to give up and go home.

That was a joke.

But i digress again. Truly though, and much to our surprise, he failed in his attempt to best the wooden door. However, in a futile attempt to retain the element of surprise, we all rushed to the southern door where upon Rowan was able to once again prove his mastery over the smashing of things both alive, and in this case, inanimate.

The door burst open at his show of might, and were met with the horrid smell of death. A smell so foul that even the bravest of warriors would be stopped in their tracks. And inside we laid witness to Malareth, 3 skeletons, and 1 giant zombie.

Sensing that now was the time to strike, and perhaps still on a high from my battle with the earth elementals, I proceeded to run and leap over everyones heads, knocking 2 arrows in my bow, and landed while unleashing both arrows straight into the zombie. I then turned to find one of those foul skeletons upon me.

But my companions did not fail me and immediately joined the fray. We fought nobly and ferociously, and I dare say that poor Malareth was perhaps a tad surprised that we were more fearsome that he had predetermined us to be.

Even though his fouled zombie had to be dispatched twice, by my hand i might add, we were able to best his beasts. This forced that coward of a necromancer to become involved.

Long story short, he didn’t last long, and breathed his last when Dijani leapt though the air in a blood fueled fury, and plunged her sword deep into Malareth’s chest. I think she even breathed poison into his face for good measure.

I deem that to have been a wise decision.

Upon the conclusion of our battle, Rowan snatched up the box we had been sent to retrieve for the cowardly Traevus. Inside was some unknown, evil, necromantic, dangerous skull… and this sent Rowan into a frenzy!

Did i mention he hates all things undead? Bones, while not strictly alive (usually), fall under this heading when imbued with necromantic magic.

Aside from that and few other trinkets… the only other thing of note is that, per my suggestion, Dijani freed a glowing orb.

The Orb turned out to be a Will O’ Whisp… named Wisky.

Wisky really has taken a liking to me for some reason.

And Wisky was cursed.

Thus… i suppose… it was my suggestion that ultimately cursed us. THOUGH I feel the need to express again that i grew up on a farm and in the woods with simple folks and could not possibly have known that such a thing could, OR WOULD, occur.

I have recorded below what the scroll we found says of the curse that now is upon us:

“My tests have shown no use of this magical being. The chains seem to be cursed with what I am suspecting is the old “Curse of the Distant Luck”. Unlocking those chains triggers the curse, forcing every intelligent creature present to stay in close proximity of the Will-o-Whisp at any time.
Moving away from the Will-o-Whisp for more than 50 ft causes the cursed creature to be the victim of an unusual amount of bad luck. The longer the creature stays away, the worse things will happen to them. Records have even mentioned cases of cursed creatures losing their life in the most unusual freak accidents. The death of Tumbred, the famous dwarven fire-eater, is said to have been caused by the “Curse of Distant Luck”. He apparently belched when performing in front of a small audience in Sigil and was blown to pieces. It is said that the audience thought it was part of the performance. It is worth mentioning that Tumbred, in the days before his fatal performance, had also lost one toe, three fingers, had one eyeball scratched out by his beloved dog Chuchu and had suffered frostburn on his buttox.
*To my knowledge there are only two ways to break the curse and stay alive:

Locking the Will-o-Whisp back up using the same type of curse or – much harder to accomplish – Bringing the Will-o-Whisp back into it’s home chamber, where it was originally removed from by the great necromancer Hordreth. Unfortunately, the knowledge about this place seems to have been lost.
Written by Nymur, Alchemyst and Frostmage”

So… we left and decided to go find answers from Traevus.

After walking awhile we came across a festival.

I don’t recall much from that time, but as our dearest shardfriend Rad has explained to us, all of us except for himself fell under an enchantment and ran around in giddy glee.

At some moment, Rad noticed a tent that was being protected by guards who were not joining in the frivolity. Frustrated, he went around the party, grabbing all the members of his group and using his brute force, directs us all towards the tent.

He described it as having to fireman carry Dinfar, while dragging Dijani by the tail, with I and Wisky dancing around him and Rowan following behind laughing at the entire situation.

Upon entering the tent, the spell was broken and our senses returned to us.

An old tiefling, named Hordara, entered who seemed to know Rad. She revealed that it was her enchantment that is causing the people outside to lose their minds. She also revealed that she had a Silver Bahamut Bobble head that Rad has been searching for. Upon agreement that the item will be good not only for him but the whole group, we agreed to pay for it using the Turquoise gem that I had been holding, 25g from Rowan, and 125g from Rad himself.

We then decided to leave and get back to town… but before we left, Hordara had a message for each member of the group:

Rad: “The black priestess will be your greatest nightmare.”
*Rowan: I would not trust your own reflection in the mirror if i were you."

*Dinfar: “I wish your path would not be the one you have chosen.”

*Dijani: “The knife of your arch enemy is already stuck in your back.”

*Zekyrr: “Your own blood will fall into madness.”

*To The group: “I wish you luck, some of you more than others. We will meet again.”


We were then shoved out of the tent and continued on our way.

Upon arriving back in Fallcrest and entering the Tavern, Rowan tossed the charred head of Maloreth at Traevus, freaking him out! And after scarring him nearly to death, it was revealed that what we have is a powerful necromantic skull that he had been tasked with delivering to the Monastery of Precipice near the Tower of Spellguard in order for it to be destroyed.

After much deliberation, In which I tried to convince everyone that I really needed to get to West Crook and would like their assistance, we decide it would be best to go first to Spellguard, in an attempt to rid ourselves of the curse and the evil skull.

Also… Traevus asked if anyone knew of the Lady Zaharel, but no one knew anything.

As a side note:
On our way back to town, I spotted a show white owl that I never would have thought that I’d lay eyes upon again. It belonged to an old human mage, whom I had befriended long time ago while searching for my birth family.
The owl carried a message that is to painful for me to reveal here.
Just know that i am deeply disturbed and fraught with worry.


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