Session 20231026 Giving it away
General Summary
Bertrum's Journal
Dear Journal,
As the echoes of our footsteps reverberated through the labyrinthine halls, our quest for knowledge yielded little of substance. The chill of the place, the stench of decay, and the eerie silence became our only companions. This place, once so mysterious, now merely an empty vessel.
Searching every nook and cranny, we combed through the manse, hoping to find a hint, a clue, anything that would unravel the enigma of the remaining Nemessary. But the shadows clung to their secrets.
With heavy hearts, we decided to rest, sheltered within the first cavern, where the whispers of the underworld faded into a low hum, a mournful lullaby. The weight of the knowledge and the dread of the unknown pressed upon us like a heavy shroud.
Nightshade, with her unquenchable curiosity, began to read one of the books we'd found. A record of sorcerers delving into the underworld, forging the path to necromancy. The past unveiled its secrets in cryptic words. Another tome, sealed by secrets, held at bay by unseen locks.
As dawn broke, we decided to turn our backs on this place, a chapter incomplete. We left the manse, returning to the realm of the living, where Samea and the Bull of the North waited to hear of our deeds. In the council of the wise Samea and the fierce Bull, we presented our findings, both the treasures and the spectres of the manse. They took the enigmatic book, the Broken Winged Crane, and shrouded it with caution. A work unborn, reaching through time, its mysteries hidden to our mortal gaze. A decision was made, to gift the manse and its armoury to our Karnese allies. An offering, a gesture of solidarity, for they held the power of ancestor worship, where spirits could breathe life into empty vessels.
Our journey then led us to Karn, our newfound allies, where the official bonding of our fates was to be sealed. Here, under the watchful eyes of ancient spirits and with the blessing of the hearthstone's warm light, we made our offering. We presented to them the manse, once a heart of darkness, now a gesture of unity. The Karnese, their hearts warmed by this generous offering, quickly set to work, planning an expedition to cleanse the manse of its lingering taint. With bated breath, we awaited their cleansing, for the disturbing surgery room, the morbid pile of embalmed bodies, and the forlorn desecrated corpses still haunted our memories. Mufasa, unshaken by the grotesque scenes, took on the grim task of clearing the surgery room, purging it of the malevolent spirits that clung to it. In a somber procession, we carried the accursed remains to an open space before the manse's entrance. There, with solemn rituals and a pyre fuelled by formaldehyde, we consigned these remnants to the cleansing flames. As the fires roared and consumed the horrors of the past, we stood outside the manse, gazing upon the purifying blaze. In the distance, we saw the Karnese expedition's approach, and with it, the hope of redemption.
The Karnese, sturdy and resolute, brought with them a group of brawny spirits from the underworld, guardians of the living world. Our minds filled with questions about the elusive Nemessary, but the spirits combed through the manse with meticulous care, leaving no stone unturned. However, as the hours passed and the last echoes of the underworld's secrets were put to rest, there was no sign of the Nemessary. The enigmatic spirit had eluded us once more, disappearing into the shadows of the underworld. Resigned yet hopeful, we left the manse behind, returning to the welcoming embrace of Karn. Here, amid joyous festivities, we forged the alliance that was now as real as the blood coursing through our veins. In the midst of the celebration, with laughter and song filling the air, I chose to gift my meticulously crafted saddle to one of the Thane's young sons. A gesture of goodwill, it earned me his sincere gratitude, and in return, I was bestowed with exquisite Karnese clothing, a token of their appreciation.
And as the revelry continued, Nightshade, in her daring ways, set her sights on King Blood Axe, seeking to weave yet another strand into the intricate tapestry of alliances and secrets. What fruits this audacious endeavour would bear, only time would unveil, as the future held its secrets close, waiting to be revealed in due course.
Yours, Bertrum Blumenthall
As dawn broke, we decided to turn our backs on this place, a chapter incomplete. We left the manse, returning to the realm of the living, where Samea and the Bull of the North waited to hear of our deeds. In the council of the wise Samea and the fierce Bull, we presented our findings, both the treasures and the spectres of the manse. They took the enigmatic book, the Broken Winged Crane, and shrouded it with caution. A work unborn, reaching through time, its mysteries hidden to our mortal gaze. A decision was made, to gift the manse and its armoury to our Karnese allies. An offering, a gesture of solidarity, for they held the power of ancestor worship, where spirits could breathe life into empty vessels.
Our journey then led us to Karn, our newfound allies, where the official bonding of our fates was to be sealed. Here, under the watchful eyes of ancient spirits and with the blessing of the hearthstone's warm light, we made our offering. We presented to them the manse, once a heart of darkness, now a gesture of unity. The Karnese, their hearts warmed by this generous offering, quickly set to work, planning an expedition to cleanse the manse of its lingering taint. With bated breath, we awaited their cleansing, for the disturbing surgery room, the morbid pile of embalmed bodies, and the forlorn desecrated corpses still haunted our memories. Mufasa, unshaken by the grotesque scenes, took on the grim task of clearing the surgery room, purging it of the malevolent spirits that clung to it. In a somber procession, we carried the accursed remains to an open space before the manse's entrance. There, with solemn rituals and a pyre fuelled by formaldehyde, we consigned these remnants to the cleansing flames. As the fires roared and consumed the horrors of the past, we stood outside the manse, gazing upon the purifying blaze. In the distance, we saw the Karnese expedition's approach, and with it, the hope of redemption.
The Karnese, sturdy and resolute, brought with them a group of brawny spirits from the underworld, guardians of the living world. Our minds filled with questions about the elusive Nemessary, but the spirits combed through the manse with meticulous care, leaving no stone unturned. However, as the hours passed and the last echoes of the underworld's secrets were put to rest, there was no sign of the Nemessary. The enigmatic spirit had eluded us once more, disappearing into the shadows of the underworld. Resigned yet hopeful, we left the manse behind, returning to the welcoming embrace of Karn. Here, amid joyous festivities, we forged the alliance that was now as real as the blood coursing through our veins. In the midst of the celebration, with laughter and song filling the air, I chose to gift my meticulously crafted saddle to one of the Thane's young sons. A gesture of goodwill, it earned me his sincere gratitude, and in return, I was bestowed with exquisite Karnese clothing, a token of their appreciation.
And as the revelry continued, Nightshade, in her daring ways, set her sights on King Blood Axe, seeking to weave yet another strand into the intricate tapestry of alliances and secrets. What fruits this audacious endeavour would bear, only time would unveil, as the future held its secrets close, waiting to be revealed in due course.
Yours, Bertrum Blumenthall
Report Date
26 Oct 2023
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