Session 11: Fucking Memories, Bellaluna, Golariel, Questions with One Word Answers, Stubborn Hobgoblins, Failed Ambushes, Horrors, Tragic Last Stands, Automatons, Mysteries, The Fucking Sylvan Emperor, Traps, Engineers

General Summary

“Belov,” the voice whispers down at me from above. Shit! I dive to the side, but it is too late. He is on me. I struggle to get out from under him, but I swear he reads my mind. Every maneuver I attempt he anticipates, pinning me down again almost instantly. It is useless. It always is…
Fuck! I shake head trying to clear away memories. It is so dark, and soft sounds of sleeping companions become ominous in stillness of necromancer’s tower. I must put these thoughts back in box. Why will they not stay locked away? Out here in jungle I am as far away from Academy as if I were on moon. He can not find me here. I am alone. It is only memories.
But thoughts do not leave me, so I spend next hour thinking of what I will do to him if I ever see him again. It is enough to make me smile. I am smiling still when companions begin to wake up.
Grandfather lifts himself from meditation with ease of drow half his age. Say what you will about old man, but he is still formidable warrior. (But do not tell him I am saying this!) He looks over at me where I am sitting, still smiling little smile, and frowns with concern, “Granddaughter, you are… happy?”
“Sorry Grandfather,” I say. “But you were over there so still in corner that I thought you dead. Do not worry, happiness is over now.” I stand up and pat him not too gently on cheek, then toss up dancing lights to help with packing.
Last night Baermek went back down to room of brain in jar and took time to translate remaining parts of journal belonging to necromancer, Bellaluna. As we prepare to leave tower, he tells us what it says. There is much information that is interesting about horrors and wisps and other undeads. She talks about Emperor Shithead back in Golden Doucheland, with many speculations about why he has been alive for so long. She mentions Sylvan team currently excavating ruins. Apparently Commondant Fuckwad’s real name is Golariel and mage is called Anlyr. This is excellent news. Now we have something to put on gravestones.
She also talks about making ring and how she sent Baermek away when she thought Sylvans were coming for her. That is interesting fact. I do not get impression from hobgoblin that he was much loved by mistress but perhaps I am mistaken.
Grandfather, meanwhile, has spent hours pondering smelly candle and has decided it is for talking to dead people, no matter how long ago they died. You can ask dead guy three questions and they will answer each question with one word. Everyone agrees we should use it to talk to Arryn (Hobgoblin’s best friend skull) but nobody has liked any questions I have proposed so far. I do not understand this. I ask best questions.
But now we are packed up and ready to depart. Ingoria goes up to top of tower to look around and see if there are dangers waiting for us in surrounding jungle. But good news – only visible threats at moment are frizzy hair and malaria. And so, we are off.
It is several hours into journey when I make move on Baermek. Not that kind of move, asshole. No, it is time to pester him about ring he is now wearing like nincompoop.
We are walking in single file, somewhat spread out— not so far as to be dangerous, just enough that we do not have to talk to each other. I move up and fall in step next to him.
“Tower was fucked up place,” I say. “Is surprising you would want to return.” That is right, buddy, we are talking about this shit.
“The Tower is an extreme example of a dynamic that happens everywhere. There were questions I had thought would go unanswered, along with… new information.”
This guy.
“Brains in jars is not something that happens everywhere! Maybe you should see more of world.” I roll eyes. “So, did you answer questions?”
“I suppose the brains in jars debate is a matter of perspective. As to the questions, I no longer wonder where her secret laboratory resides, though I am left contemplating the purpose of her work, if purpose is indeed the right word.” He turns to look at me, “I’m sure you have more specific concerns?”
“I am not shy person, Baermek.” Perhaps he has not noticed this. “I make it very clear I do not like this ring that whispers in your head.”
“Nor do I, truth be told,” he responds. “But it was a chance I was determined to take. The safe path is not always a luxury I can afford at this point in my life, or what remains of it.”
Old guys are always talking about how they are going to die soon. Grandfather yells at me many times to not take so many risks. Because he loves me so very much? Do not be stupid. “What is point of all this Granddaughter, if you are going to throw life away on Bird?” he says. All he cares about is who will carry on Belov name when he is gone. But this is stupid. I can be coward and try to stay safe during fights, but then fall into sinkhole as we walk through jungle or be killed by lucky shot from Sylvan sniper.
Honestly, chance is very small that either one of us will survive total shitstorm that is coming. But Grandfather they are at least wanting alive. He is still of use to them. I am nothing but big fucking mistake. So what does it matter how careful I am? Grandfather will be last Belov, not me. He can carry on fucking name himself.
I shake my head, clearing thoughts, and respond, “I do not know what is this safe path you speak of. But I do try to avoid stupid path. What possible thing does wearing ring gain you?”
“Time will tell,” he shrugs. “Ruination, perhaps.”
Pizduk!* Perhot podzalupnaya!** Five minutes talking to Hobgoblin and I am ready to tear hair out. He is fucking worst!
“Baermek, this is stupid! Listen! You saved my life with bag of goop. I do not know what you were thinking doing this, but I am giving you thanks anyway. So, I want to know you are not crazy asshole with death wish.”
He smiles at me, “I do not have a death wish, Alyona.”
I give him look of disbelief, “You have ruination wish then?”
He chuckles. “Not that I know of, but I suppose again we may all be surprised. Bellaluna was a powerful mage, if clearly unhinged. She seems to have survived in some form or another. It may be folly, but it would be a delicious irony if I could leverage the situation to my own ends.” His smile is not so much of smile now, maybe there is little bit of snarl.
“Wanting to stick it to assholes that fucked with you? Now, this I am understanding! But how can you know you are one with leverage here? She was, as you say, powerful mage. You may be willing to accept risk because you are old as fuck, but I am not so much liking idea of standing next to you when she takes over your mind and tries to kill us all.”
“That will be the challenge,” he nods. “And I cannot guarantee I will emerge on the winning side. So certainly, you should remain wary.” He lifts eyebrow at me, “But we have all brought a little baggage with us, no?”
I have no idea what he is referring to, so I ignore rude, pointed comment.
“I am always wary, Hobgoblin. But I am not used to this traveling in group. I do not have much trust for other people. You have seemed, until now, least crazy of assholes. But this ring, it is concerning me.”
“I do not blame you, and will not lie that there won’t be a risk. I cannot quantify the scope or likelihood of that risk. I will not insult you with platitudes or meaningless reassurances.”
So, basically he is saying to me, “Yeah, ring may kill us all but I am going to die anyway so fuck off I want to wear it.” Cagey bastard uses many long words to say very little.
“Do you think if someone else were to wear it, she would talk to them?” I ask.
He shrugs, “I am not sure. It is possible. She spoke to me through dreams before I found the ring, though it was much more vague.”
“You have strange bond with her considering you were slave. I am not wishing to be nosy asshole, but exactly what kind of services were you giving to her?”
(Ha! I am totally nosy asshole!)
Baermek smiles at me like I have made joke, his eyes crinkling at corners. “Well my dear, when I was younger I was an extra set of eyes to watch her back, and a body to stand in front of any blades that should come her way – not that anyone was ever so stupid. But I follow your insinuation.” He shakes his head, “I spent 30 years with the Mistress and she would have rather scraped me from her boot. That being said, I do feel that the other Sylvans considered her a bit soft on her servant.”
I look him up and down. Not my type, but I could see rubbing up on all that fur. “She was snooty bitch – you are not so bad for old guy.” I grin. “So, she must really hate being stuck in old hobgoblin head then? Does she still think she is boss of you?”
“She is still quite certain of her superior position, yes. Apparently, even in death, perspective eludes some.” He gives me gentle elbow to side, “I like you too, Alyona. Take care of yourself.”
I flick my hand, dismissing friendliness. “This is not problem. I am always taking care of self.” We walk for minute or two in silence, then I grab him by arm and turn him so he is looking me in face. “And you Hobgoblin, you must try not to go crazy and kill us all. It would be very sad if I had to put you down.” I smile big smile with many teeth and let Academy show in my eyes. If I even suspect he is danger to Grandfather or me, I will make like necromancer and scrape him off my boot, then set fire to whatever is left.
We are approaching Engineering school, and all talking (not that there was much) has stopped. Grandfather has stashed Boris in bag to keep from so much of clanking and others stay behind while Cat and I scout entrance to school. It is often that I am sent with her for the scouting, and we have developed routine. We approach top of cliff that overlooks entrance, staying low and quiet, and look down canyon for signs of Sylvans. There is nothing. But then Ingoria spots signs of horse having been here recently and thinks she hears hoofbeats moving away from here. She uses wand and we see that there is some kind of magical trap across entire entrance. This may be problem, so we head back to others to discuss.
Best guess, this is alarm spell that will alert Sylvans that we have tried to enter Engineering School. Grandfather can cast similar magic, and says it will last maybe eight hours. We decide to set up ambush for when mage returns to recast spell. It is long time to wait, crouched in bush, but other than sweat and flies, this is familiar feeling. I have sat many times like this waiting for target. I am calm and mind is still. There is peace in waiting.
But nine hours pass and now it is evening and there is no mage. Our guess was bad one, and all we have to show for long wait is many bug bites. It is disappointment. Would have been very nice to take annoying mage off board, but some people just do not want to cooperate with excellent plans. Instead, we decide it is time to head into school.
We use tri-keys and doors unlock with loud click. They are ancient and do not want to budge, but we manage to drag one side open enough to enter. As seal is broken, air rushes past us, like building is sucking in first, deep breath after so long. Air inside smells ancient – dust and decay, with maybe faint chemical odor, like Grandfather’s laboratory. We are first people to open these doors in many thousands of years, and last ones who did were crazy Sylvans. Who knows what kind of fucked up things they were doing in here? I take staff from my back and give it quick twirl to loosen up wrists.
Inside door is lots of scorch marks, and marble floor is cracked. There was some kind of explosion. Before we can investigate what has happened though, we need to make sure we can get back out. Grandfather surprises me and offers to test out lock from inside. I am not sure what motive is; this seems unusually helpful for old man.
Doors close behind him and after long moment we hear lock click into place. I brush dust off hands as I look around at companions, then turn to leave. I do not make it three steps before Hobgoblin grabs me by back of shirt.
“I guess old men stick together,” I grumble. Baermek gives me stern look of disapproval, but then ruins it with small wink. What can I say? My friendly nature and happy-go-lucky ways have made another conquest, despite best efforts. It is curse.
We hear lock mechanism disengage again and I sigh, “Well, we have missed opportunity. When Boris gets us in trouble again, is not being my fault.” Others mostly ignore me, which is usual, but I see Cat make small expression which is meaning “Huh, she has good point.” Door opens and Grandfather seems okay, which is… fine, I guess. He motions us inside and we join him. Ingoria takes moment to erase traces of our passing from entryway. Smart kitty.
When door closes it is complete darkness inside. Baermek casts light spell and we are able to see entrance hall. It is large, two-story tall room with vaulted ceiling. Archways on first floor lead into school and there is arcade on second story overlooking hall. In center of room is big statue.
Just inside doors, we see three skeletons near blast marks. One skeleton lays with head in lap of another. When we search them we find two parts of another tri-key. It is not being hard to figure out what has happened here so long ago – they were trapped inside after Cataclysm and tried to blast their way out. It would be almost sad if they were not Sylvan assholes. Or if I were kind of person who cared about idiots that have been dead thousands of years. Which I am not, obviously.
We are exploring room when we are jumped by four shadowy Horrors! We manage to destroy two of them but other two fuck off to god knows where. Why am I suspecting they are looking for more little shadow friends to help annoy us? This is not ideal, but what ever is, really?
All of us huddled together around little bit of light, we head deeper into building, coming to large stairwell with vertical shaft in middle. Far side is covered in rubble and debris and impossible to get to from here. Shaft itself is caged off and there is next to it two buttons. Baermek presses button and we hear tremendous clanking, grinding noise from beneath us, but nothing else changes. Skreeek opens gate and looks into shaft. Down below there is some kind of platform and above it is open for several floors.
We can go upstairs or downstairs from here and we decide to go down. At base of stairs is another skeleton, splayed out like it fell when running from something. Moving into room, we see sign that says “Library” but there are no shelves or books – there is only destruction. Heaps of charcoal and ash everywhere we look, like they were burning all library contents to keep out shadow creatures. There are many more skeletons here, some burnt, some not, some armed with makeshift weapons. At least one looks like they offed themself. There is little doubt this room is last stand of Sylvan assholes. It would all be very moving if… hold on, let me check something… no, no, I still do not care.
Leading out of room are two doorways. We choose one on right. Ingoria finds that it is still trapped, even after all this time. There is line that runs across it that is attached to vial with some kind of fluid still in it. Grandfather takes vial, of course, to add to collection of other vials filled with crap he probably shouldn’t be messing around with.
Door opens to reveal hallway. There are braziers like ones we saw at Mage Academy, but these are dark and there are large claw marks across some of them, similar to large claw marks across some of us after fight with shadow creatures.
Hallway opens up to larger room where we see desk and two large metal statues. I know, I know… we should be careful of statues. Are we though? No, we are not. So, like idiots, we are surprised when they suddenly come to life and start trying to kill us. It is again challenging fight, especially when two more Horrors show up. (Are these same ones from room upstairs? Hard to say – they’re fucking shadows.)
Fortunately, we are able to kill them all. But now we are very banged up and tired, and decide little nap is just what we need. We head back into room of Last Stand and try to set up camp in corner of the room, but five more shadows show up and we are forced to fight them off. After that we think maybe we should find more secure location for the sleeping, because we are smart like that.
It is tiny closet that we find. Contents have been ransacked, probably for building defenses against Horrors, and in corner is skeleton with flintlock used to shoot self. Grandfather takes gun and we throw skeleton out in hall to make more room. But even without dead guy, it is still very cramped and Skreek keeps pecking at my leg when I try to stretch it out. I can’t help that I accidentally kick him in head each time.
It is hard not to jump at shadows, seeing as how here shadows are bad guys. I am finding it hard even to meditate. I do not like this place. I have been with many bodies before, but I am usually one who made them dead and I do not stick around long afterward. Now we have locked ourselves into ancient tomb, and even shadows hate us. It is bad place. I do not even like breathing this air.
Others also struggle to sleep, but we manage enough rest that we feel like we can continue exploration. First we look in room that was guarded by statues, called “Dean’s Office.” Door was broken off hinges and there are some kind of claw marks on inside. Beyond door is conference room and then is smaller office space with yet another corpse. It is laying on its back, arms splayed, feet toward desk. There is fracture on back of skull and another tri-key piece in pocket. It is not clear how this person died and it is all very curious.
Ingoria examines desk and finds broken sending stone and two letters from Sylvan emperor, who has same name as current one. Is it same guy? From what Bellaluna said in journal, seems freaky, but possible. First letter tells us there is conspiracy against Emperor by Ilphas D’nara, head of Knight Suns of the Realm, and Keryth Shynar, head of the Knight Shades of the Realm. We have seen name Ilphas before. We are more surprised when second letter tells us that our skull friend Arryn was Dean of Aymanas Academy where they were rumored to be working on weapon against Radiance. Emperor suspected Arryn was part of plot. This gives us more things to consider asking him when we do ritual.
Quickly we go down hallway, searching each room. One room is labeled “Professor of Alchemy” and this door Grandfather opens without spotting trap. It explodes in our faces, which just… sucks. I am starting to think dead Sylvans are worse than live ones, and this is something I should not be thinking because live Sylvans are absolute motherfuckers. Inside room we find more potions. We have almost enough to open potion shop.
Another room is labeled “Professor of Firearms” and here Grandfather cries tears of joy when he sees pieces of really fucking big gun on workbench. It all goes into sack immediately, and now he is smiling, which is so rare that it is kinda disturbing.
Final room in hallway is labeled “Professor of Automation” and here is hidden away some kind of technical book with pictures and diagrams. It is written in Sylvan but even Baermek struggles with many unfamiliar, technical words. Into sack with rest of junk.
And now we must decide which way to go. We are all nervous about surroundings, even if no one says so. We are wondering what other things will we have to fight. We talk nervously about if Sylvans will be waiting for us when we leave. We argue about what questions we should ask skull. And I have my own questions too, ones that I think only in my head.
I honestly do not know what we are doing in this place, why we are working with Lightkeepers at all, why we are part of such unlikely company. We are so far from path we must take— I feel lost. But when I fight, I do not think about these things. I fight and I forget all else. This is only answer I have, and maybe it is only answer I really need.
So, let us go then. I want to fuck shit up.

---

* bullshitter
**peehole dandruff (according to internet this really is a common russian swear)

Report Date

14 May 2022