Session 14: Across the Zolian Report

Fog shrouded the forest as the party grumbled in camp. There was a great deal to reflect upon, having lost both Weiss and Torvald at the hands of Yohn's betrayal. They lingered longer than usual in camp, letting the morning pass them by as they sat around the fire. Edwyn spoke about his lover, Odessa, that he wished to meet in Dagmar's Finger. Marcarius spoke in cheerful tone about his desire to retire once they had returned to Gallows Rock from this mission. Kromm chimed in with "hmm" and "mhm" every once in a while, but his mind was elsewhere. Whether it seemed it or not, Kromm had a family back in Morren that he wished to see again. Friends and companions being killed so swiftly without rhyme or reason shook him at his core. Perhaps getting home alive would be more difficult than he thought. Meanwhile Flynt sat at the edge of camp, staring into the mist. He had seen plenty of people die before. The story of a few more unfortunate passings didn't alter his view much.

Another hour passed with the party in camp, sitting and waiting. Flynt had been resting on the same stump all morning and most of the night before. He didn't sleep often, preferring to be on watch in solitude. That suited him for the night, but wasting away the day was another thing. Standing up from his seat with a harsh creaking in his armor, he called out to the party to pack up. The others looked to each other at that, Kromm shrugged, and they began to move. They began marching a bit before noon, but the fog obscured their path. The trees meshed with the undergrowth in a pall of white. For the best of navigators it would have been challenging to find the right direction, and Kromm was certainly not the best of navigators.

They find the Tomb of Renfed the Bloody, a small stone mausoleum north of Dorithin. Reaching the door, the they find it to have been already opened once before. Kromm stepped inside and saw a man bearing a torch climbing upon the pedestal and taking an amulet from the statue of Renfed. A few moments passed as he leaped down and stood next to the status, staring at the newcomers. They exchanged some quick words before the statue began to move and rupture. They initially paid precious little attention to the ominous noises, each party attempting to identify the other. The man in the tomb introduced himself as Francis, but gave no family name. He took the amulet he had acquired, slipped it into his bag, and prepared to leave. It would not be so simple, however. Before he knew it, a dull hum tore through the air and a great stone sword smashed into his chest. The statue had come alive, the spirit dwelling within apparently unpleased with the man's theft.

Cross east over Bridgewater and meet a single family that lived there. Son was named Ond, and he told the party about his aspirations to become a warrior and save these lands from monsters.

Bird begins to follow them as soon as they crossed the river, party ignores it but it continues to follow for hours. They contemplate shooting it down, but think better of it. They make camp south of a copse of trees, as is their typical method. However, this night is different. First watch sees light in woods, ignores it, second watch of Flynt and Edwyn sees it and they go for it. Enter clearing in trees with table of wood with five mugs of ale and five plates of food. Nobody is actually there. Flynt examines the site, as he reached it first. The bird came down from the trees and perched itself.

Party reaches the Meretorr, or the wall that separates Dagmars Finger from the rest of Othos. Gatekeeper there seems to be quite ill, but he is the only one present. The party considered a number of options, whether they wanted to speak to him, scale the walls and avoid him, or outright kill him with their superior numbers. Marcarius was ready to climb and do the deed, but Kromm urged caution. Edwyn argued that they might as well try negotiating, it could certainly work better than fighting.

They approached the walls, lowly and battered they were after all these years, and called up to whomever was present. The air was silent for a few moments as the party idled before the gates of the Meretorr. It was possible that the guards of the wall were long gone, they had seen enough abandonment and ruin thus far to believe it. That was not the case today, however, as a hunched form peered over the battlements, couching a storm of phlegm. Despite looks, the man was only a few years past his prime, with only specks of grey to be seen. Leaning over the wall, he called down to the party, asking what they could possibly need from the Meretorr. When they told him of their desire to cross in Dagmar's Finger, he gave a weak smile. The price was steep these days for those trying to get inside, unless you come bearing food. The party certainly didn't look like the saving type. Edwyn stepped forward and admitted that they came for their own reasons, not to deliver food or act as any type of savior. The man raised an eyebrow and produced a sheet of parchment from his coat, unfolding it to read it. It says, he told them, that all unimportant migrants to Dagmar's Finger must pay a price of 15 coins of gold per head. The purpose was to deter refugees from pouring into the region without contributing anything useful themselves. Time were dire, after all.

Already frustrated by the journey thus far, Edwyn was finished after hearing that news. He turned with a huff and began down the road, prepared to retrace his steps back to Gallows Rock. The rest of the party watched on in silence. They had come a long way, killed too many people, and have endured too much to be denied by a single man behind a rubble wall. Kromm stepped forward after Edwyn and put a hand upon his shoulder. There had to be a way through, whether that be by negotiating or killing the guard, but returning to Gallows Rock was certainly out of the question. At that moment a brilliant idea crossed Kromm's mind, one that could possibly get them to the other side of the wall. The guard seemed sickly, for one reason or another. Perhaps if Edwyn used his mastery of Vojûn to heal him, he would allow them to pass unhindered. Edwyn gave a deep sigh and shrugged, it was at least worth an attempt.

Edwyn stepped forward to the wall and called up to the man, offering him healing in exchange for passage. The man was skeptical, but nonetheless descended to the party's level. Edwyn played, and thankfully managed to bring forth the energy required to heal the man, saving him from his constant hacking and wheezing. He was duly grateful for this service, and introduced himself a Goffen. He spoke of his long tenure as guard of the Meretorr, there being few others willing to remain in the cold. In time, the chill of the billowing winds that sweep in from the Sea of Zolrassus had made him sick, and he warned the party of the same. Dagmar's Finger was a treacherous place.