Oisín Cétchathach
Oisín Cétchathach
I grew up in a small village in the north near one of our most sacred places of power, Lia Fáil. My mother is an elder in our tribe's counsel in Dún na nGall, and is a scholar and teacher of our history. My father is a much simpler man, and is a skilled hunter and fisherman, though he is a leatherworker by trade. My older brother took to the sword early, and is a warrior of some renown. My uncle, who is much older than my dad, is a Druid, and he was the one who foretold at my birth that I had the touch of the faeries upon me and asked permission to train me at an early age in the ways of the Druid.
I like to think I have a blend of all of my immediate family -- an intuitive connection to and appreciation of nature, an understanding of both history and politics, and a restlessness and desire to take action against our foes and preserve the balance of nature.
Six years ago, the landscape of external threats changed dramatically. A human leader from the continent, Mug Nuadat, has attacked the south of Eíre, bringing with him foul forces of orcs and other dark creatures. He and his forces have desecrated the places of ancient power (some of which had already been co-opted by foreign gods and their adherents) and I have been leading the effort to unite our local clans to lend succor to the clans in the south to fight off the forces. These efforts have helped us win some epic battles about which songs have already been written, but things still hang in the balance to the south.
These victories have helped re-secure land for our clans to the south (and helped secure my reputation) but I know they are temporary. There are larger forces in the world that I feel in my bones that are driving this rise in evil. The frequency of orc raids across all our lands has increased dramatically -- and worse, we have come across the undead in our battles, something we haven't seen on our island for generations. Some say they are being brought here and driven by Mug Nuadat -- which may be so. But I fear they are rising of themselves from the secret dead, dark places under the mountains and from ancient battlegrounds that have long been forgotten.
But it's not just the invasion: Crops are failing. Forests are becoming quiet, and close. Springs have dried up. The seas toss under the burden of the stress of the world.There is something deeper that tears at the fabric of nature, and I know that I must leave our sacred lands and seek the wellhead of these forces, and do what I can to force them off this plane of existence.
A Druid with a mission
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Could you spare me a match, I've got a bridge to burn --
After a triumphant defeat of the death cult sex ring zombie cabal, and successful rescue of the blacksmith's daughter, and the successful (tho unplanned) rescue of the noblewoman, we were given a surprise visit by our erstwhile noble sponsor, Decius Culus, a handful of the escapees from the night before, and a small cadre of noblemen.
One might have expected praise. A handsome reward. A firm handshake and a pat on the back. A knowing nod of recognition of the powerful, dangerous work we accomplished on behalf of the city.
As they say, I figured wrong, with a capital R.
Turns out, one of the dudes who died, Collateralus Damageus, was the son of a nobleman. Turns out further, the folks who appeared to be "commoners" were all pretty fucking friendly with the nobles. And it turns out even further that this group was generally supportive of the kidnapping/raping/murdering/undeading behavior of the group. Also, all of the damning evidence we were able to produce (the dead ghouls, the letters proving the conspiracy, the two damsels in distress who attested to our bravery and heroics in rescuing them) all apparently didn't mean shit to a single one of them. Add all that up, and they wanted blood, specifically that of Dagos.
Which is fair, because in that moment, I wanted blood too, specifically that of any noble. I would be damned before I saw them arrest a single one of us, and I would be eager to take as many of them along with me on my journey to damnation as I could.
Things were progressing just fine, lines were being drawn, and it was almost all but clear that our choices were limited to allowing the immediate arrest of Dagos. Which meant that either we spring him from jail later and become outlaws, or we just slaughter every last one of those fuckers and become outlaws. I argued that the latter path would feel way better, and might help us all find closure on the betrayal we were all feeling. I was excited to draw them into the hallway where I could cast lightning bolt a couple times and take out a swath of them in one go.
Alas, in the end, we wriggled out way out, agreed to pay for the little fucker's resurrection, with the agreement that Dagos would publicly apologize. Which I guess was better? But it hasn't slaked my thirst for revenge on the whole lot of them. (Although I gotta admit I was pretty proud of the apology Dagos wrote up.) Once the nobles left, Decius Culus became really chummy and we talked for a while about city defenses, where they were weakest, his fears of a civil unrest, etc. (All of which I will secret away as good intel in case there is an opportunity to overthrow the current noble rule, but I'll keep that to myself lest I alarm the party with my anti-bourgeoisie radicalism.)
The one positive of the event came from a surprising source, the husband of the bitchy noblewoman we saved -- he gave us a lot of great information, including a lead on some cannibal island dwarves, a wedding, and some vampires. Which sounds like the beginning of a joke, but I hope is the beginning of an adventure.
I also spent a fair amount of time with the Kobolds, and in the company of Koto Crag-Claw, who also provided us with some important clues, including information about an Empire of Ghouls, which arose about 100 years ago in the Vampire kingdom, and of the Darakhol, a special class of ghoul who can hide/project their ghoul stench, some of whom are even spellcasters. Clearly, we ran into at least one of these during our battle. And, as with all things undead, I am trying to find the threads that tie back to what's happening back home. I need to create a map and stretch a red cord between all the various leads I've found to see if that helps.
Meanwhile, worth noting as well, was an orc/hobgoblin raid on the roadhouse, and we sighted at least one orc on a Warg watching us. No battle ensued, and I am left to wonder the extent of that group, and its intent. Time will tell, but maybe they'll all ransack Rennes while we're gone. I'll give them directions to the town.
...And I won't mind if you lag behind, I'd like your company with my axe to grind...
The One (or two or three) Who Got Away, part five in a continuing series --
The good:
* Fireballs are goddamned impressive
* Verx and Dagos are dealing out a *lot* of damage.
* We rescued the girl.
* We did at least knock out one local to question later.
* We killed Big Stinky.
The bad:
* When the party wants to capture a leader, we have an abysmal record.
* When the elf runs off to give chase to a party leader, the whole party apparently falls apart.
* Turns out, where we entered the room was a choke point we abdicated.
The ugly:
* We interrupted a death sex ceremony
* We intercepted a noble woman (Melancha) who was possibly drugged/suggested/aroused at the scene, who would like everyone to forget that we even saw her.
* Turns out, rescuing girls makes human males puff out their chests in some weird mocking ritual that I can't imagine the females would be attracted to, but what do I know about humans?
* I got attacked by a goddamned carpet. Which, despite the damage that had to be done to keep it from smothering me to death, I'm keeping.
The end:
* Pretty stoked about some of the clues we found, especially since they have names attached that we can inquire about and follow up on.
* Going to make a hard case again to talk about how the Kobolds were key to the rescue, and take some heat off that community.
On Philosophy, Missing Humans, Framed Kobolds, and the Catacombs of the Undead --
Back on Eire, I found myself both resigned and at peace with the passing age of the old races, and the ascendence of the humans. I'm in little doubt that this can be stopped or reversed, any more than you can stop the eventual death and decay of any living thing. As they say, the wheel of time grinds slowly, but it grinds. As in nature, great forests must die, so too must pass the ages of the old races. And while it's hard to see a forest die to be replaced by a fen of noxious weeds, we can, at least, do our best to protect and revere what is left of the old forests for as long as we can.
In that same breath, I don't count every human as toxic. There are beautiful things in them as well, and I find myself in good company with the band of adventurers I am with. But it's a small minority, and those like Decius -- who offered to pay for the left ear of any race other than human -- are the ones who will choke out anything unique and beautiful in the world, in the name of order and peace. I do not envy those who will live to see the age of humans in their ascendency, for it will be brutal and brief.
And yet, here I am, nominally supporting the regime of fuckers like this. And maybe I'm even questioning the irony of opposing the Lady of the Rose, who ostensibly, is trying to overthrow the current system. But I fear at best it is a like-for-like scenario, overthrowing one form of greedy human oppression for another. Replacing a system of systematic violence for one of open violence, as it were. So be it. Let the two noxious weeds choke each other out -- I'm getting paid, and, I hope, am getting just a little closer to finding clues to the rise of the undead in the world.
Which is long preamble to where we find ourselves today, deep in the Catacombs of the Undead, under the city of Rennes. You may ask yourself, "Well, how did I get here?" Let me explain:
Upon our return to Rennes, Barton's current girl (one of many but who's counting?) came sobbing into his arms to tell of the disappearance of her friend, the Blacksmith's daughter, Rosalyn. Digging around a little, we got a story from the Blacksmith, who clearly believed it was the working of the Kobold community, based on the fact that there have been a rash of local kidnappings, at the scene of which was always found, conveniently, an obvious Kobold token -- a Kobold axe, a Kobold cloak, etc. This seemed really obviously a frame-up, but we let him continue his tale. He went on to complain that the guard wasn't going to do anything about it because they weren't part of the ruling class and they don't care about the proletariat (my words, not his, but that's nevertheless an accurate translation (and also, obviously, an accurate assessment of the current class system.))
We went to Decius with the information we found, and he agreed with my assessment of the framing of the Kobolds, indirectly reinforced my assessment of the class system, and also reminded us that it isn't just about class, it's also about race, off (see notes on philosophy above for reference.) We then ventured into the Kobold ghetto, quickly finding a decent contact in the Rampant Rat -- the local Kobold eatery and hang-out (we did not try the rat, but I intend to upon our return.) At any rate, Skick, the local fellow, hooked us up with Koto Crag-Claw, who was the leader of the local group, and regal in both dress and demeanor. Upon our return, I would like to spend some time getting to know Koto better -- and getting to know Kobolds in general better.
I laid the cards straight on the table, shared that we believed there was an effort to frame the Kobold community, and that if not checked, that effort would fan the embers of hatred and distrust that the humans already share for the Kobolds and would lead to inevitable violence, which, based on numbers alone, would lead to the inevitable slaughter of his people. We proposed that we could be the force that could stop the current threat against the community, and further proposed that we would like to set up the Kobold community as the rescuers of the missing people. Koto agreed with both the assessment and the need to get to the bottom of the current mystery, tho he was hesitant to send a Kobold with us as a show of community and to help create the narrative coming from those we rescue. (He did, however, offer a substantial reward, including a magic item which -- with extreme good faith -- he gave to us in advance, in case it should help with our adventure.) I still intend to lay the victory on the doorstep of the Kobolds, and to make sure the party does what it can to reinforce that notion.
Turns out, Koto "has a guy," Kwarrel, who was able to lead us to through the cart-ways and to the area of the catacomb into which they saw the suspect humans furtively dash with their prisoners. (At some point later, over beers, I intend to get into a light argument with him so I can say, "Listen, I have no quarrel with you, good sir." I guess that's a warning for you all.)
Inside, we quickly found enemies to kill, most of whom, to my equal disgust and delight, were undead. I don't want to get my hopes up, but this is the first positive connection to the undead I have found here on the continent, and I want to follow up on this lead as closely as I can. (OK, actually it's the second encounter with the undead, but strangely I can't seem to recall the details of the first. Something about an abomination and how to build one? Which you'd think, given my background and purpose for being here in the first place I would violently oppose? I don't know. It's still fuzzy.)
As for the battle itself:
A) Spike growth is fucking awesome against the undead. Like, sincerely awesome.
B) In addition to the undead, there were also spiders.
C) In addition to the undead and to the spiders, there were also thousands of baby attack spiders in the undead creatures.
D) In addition to the undead and to the spiders and the thousands of baby attack spiders, there was also a chick that ran off through a secret door and some other dude in scale mail, who carried with him a War Pick of Considerable Damage, and a stench that went beyond the usual stench of humans that I have yet to fully accustom myself.
E) We all had highlights in the battle, including some upgrades on magic spells, but I was most impressed perhaps with Verxatitus, who was absolutely *bashing* today.
F) Speaking of Verx, did I tell you the joke about the Paladin who was covered in a thousand baby attack spiders who tried to kill them with his sword? While they were crawling on his armor trying to find their way in? The punchline is: It worked. But also, it's sort of a visual gag and you would have had to have been there to see him dancing about trying to smack off the horde of spiders. If he ever opens a bar in later life, I recommend he call it the prancing armor.
The secret door she ran through leads to a steep set of stairs that runs downward. We must decide if we give hot chase, or if we clear the rest of the current level we are on, to ensure we don't leave anything behind us that could put us into a battle with two fronts. I'm personally torn between the two. We'll see what the party decides soon.
The Ongoing Saga of Oisín the Target --
After a quick recap of our plan of action, we elected to try to blow the horn to try and draw out a sortie and take out a smaller group before attacking the fort. Ok, so the recap wasn't quick and the sortie was just a couple goblins on manticores. We hid in the bushes until they left.
We then instituted Plan B (known as the Fuck It Frontal Assault Plan), which entailed a quick scouting with me playing the role of an invisible sneaky rat (thanks, Barton!) to assess the lay of the land, and an invisible Barton (thanks, Barton!) to go in and open the front gates. All went surprisingly to plan, including, most importantly, the removal of the dozen goblins inside with a shatter from Barton, and a couple of shatters from Griswold (who, I think, gets Most Damage Given award).
Dagos came bravely inside (winning the "you can't hit me" Tank award), while I cast a poorly-placed Spike Growth spell (noting that it did, at least, buy us two rounds before the bugbears could get involved in the action.) Verx rushed a bugbear that hopped the fence to attack Griswold, and I cast (too early) a heat metal spell on the leader who appeared on the hill by the big tent (which, btw, I completely forgot to continue on my bonus action in the next round (and which, also btw, drew unwanted attention from the leader (who, btw, directed all further attacks on me (highlight, btw, that I'm not nearly as tanky as Dagos (leading to me relatively quick exit from the battle.))))
Apparently the battle went well, then very dangerously not well, then just barely well again, then decidedly not well before going just enough well again. When I came to next, I found myself drug a ways out of battle (thanks, Griswold!) but still with enough time to re-engage in battle and help wipe out the remaining troops. It wasn't my best day, but fuck it, we survived, so a great day, yes?
Among the remains, we found a pretty badass suit of armor (which maybe good thing I didn't ruin with my heat metal spell?) and some other nifty loot. Verx thinks the suit may be tied to the temple that was attacked, and his father's death. And inasmuch as it was part of this group, there is at least some connection between the temple attack and the broader attacks that are happening under the direction of the Rose Lady (WHO IS NOT DOROKOR). Worth exploring, I should think.
Speaking of whom, we had a fly-over with her and four other Griffin-riding folk -- I, for one, am damn glad they didn't decide to attack at that point because we weren't in the best of shape. Our plan is to bring the wagons and other loot back to Rennes. From there, we shall see what comes to us for next steps...
Oh, also, we lost Brix. Which is a pity because I sort of grew a little fond of the murdrous little fucker.
A Chapter End, and a New Journey --
Dear friends,
I have asked Herius to deliver this message and by now I am already well on my way to try to fulfill the quest that brought me to these strange lands. I feel in my heart the source of the scourge lies further inland, further into Orc territory. Andacarus has provided me with the connections I need in our secret order, and I feel confident in my decision to pursue this journey and to work more closely with the Druid circle.
It has been an adventure and a half with you all, and I genuinely have been blessed to fight alongside each of you. But these fights are human fights, and I cannot let myself get entangled in local politics while I have a mission entrusted to me.
This has been weighing on me, and I regret the terms under which I am now leaving. As evidenced by the drama that I created, I am willing to put my mission above my party. While the summoning was instinctive, it still sent a signal that if the issue was not resolved peacefully, I was willing to solve it by any means. That's a hard truth, and I recognize that my zealotry on this issue is not something that you all have to own, nor, clearly, is it something that you all understand. But the time may come again that I am faced with a choice of working with the party or following my quest, and upon reflection, I am too committed to my quest to find room to compromise on this subject.
I regret most that I broke the friendship with Griswold, who was the first human to befriend me. We both felt passionately about this issue, both felt this was something that pulled at the very essence of who we are -- and, unfortunately, it pulled us in opposite directions. I hope my leaving will make it easier for him to come back into the fold of the party.
Slán go fóill
>Oisín
Smash and Grab --
After a long planning session, we committed to the simplest of all plans -- smash and grab. The basic plan was grab the girl, cast featherfall, jump off the cliff. Which, after a very long discussion, was exactly the plan we ended up with. That said, the plan was still pretty damn clever, and I think we executed just about as flawlessly as we could. Everybody did their thing, and we kept mission-focused. Which was a challenge at least twice; leaving the sea creature was damn difficult, tho in the end things worked out well for her. The Faustian agreement with the Orc Priestess or whoever she was was a much easier decision; our goal this mission wasn't to kill orcs, it was to save a princess.
The timing was a critical factor as well; we (wisely, I think) went well out of our way to avoid conflict on the main island, and started a bit late, so when things came right down to it, we had zero time to spare. We optimized our spells, including especially the invisibility and silence spells. We kept the element of surprise and after smart party scouting, pretty much were able to take the battle right to the source before having to give away our positions. We damn near caught the mohawk dude, but managed to get the princess(es) unharmed. There was clearly a doppelganger at play, but not knowing which was which we decided to bring both. The real princess followed Barton over the wall and off the cliff while we tried to wrangle the suspected doppelganger , who ended up bolting towards the enemy.
Things got tight at the end trying to get everyone over the wall and in proper order for the jump/featherfall, but we got away clean and remarkable unscathed. Had we not come up with the featherfall plan, I cannot imagine how we would have pulled this off trying to fight our way back through the horde of orcs we ditched on the island.
A Leisurely Stroll Across Occupied Jersey --
After a wildly successful rescue, we decided to return to the island, take a more thorough search through the cavern/village, and then to set across the bigger island to check out the ruins of the airship we saw on our trip across the first time. We figured after the attack led by the main forces, it would be a fairly easy trek. Well, we figured wrong.
We came across the outposts at the pass and pretty much rushed right in. It was not our most coordinated moment. And, for such a straightforward event, it became pretty fucking complicated. There were a couple of moments in which I was pretty convinced we were not going to survive, and only did so by the slightest of margins. The good news is, i'm convinced with a little better planning, we would have handled the event pretty easily.
Once we got to the airship, we were beset by some animated armor -- I was pretty stoked to use my heat metal spell, and a little crestfallen when it had no effect. And considerably more crestfallen when we saw how much damage they do in one blow. Which was a lot. Also, they seems they just kept coming. The good news was, they were slow. And while my heat metal spell was ineffective, my thorns spell was quite successful, especially after I realized all we had to do was draw them into the thorns and then move around to keep them moving in the spell area. I'm sort of the idea guy, I guess.
The ship itself was way beyond repair, but it was an interesting curiosity to almost die for.
Protecting Caravans, Securing Trade Routes, and Encounters with Old Frenemies --
Having returned to Malo, Barton found another girl -- which isn't so much news except that this one offered a job to the party. (Like, an employment-type job (not the other type of job (which may also be the case? (in which case, maybe yes to that as well? (but maybe Barton has some proprietary feelings in this regard? (in which case, I guess no?)))))) Anyway, turns out her dad had a caravan that needed protection, and the local leadership agreed to pay us to help clear the route. The recent issues on the route may or may not have connections to the broader efforts at disrupting trade. But it gets us paid, and is going to get us to Rennes, where we may find more clues, and potentially more work. And maybe, if we're lucky, we'll find another letter with a Rose signet among the lot.
It is a long haul to Rennes -- about 14 hours -- and we decided to press it in one day to avoid the inherent danger of overnight rests.We met resistance about half way to Rennes, at a river crossing with a washed-out bridge not too far away from a little village called Pleugueneuc. A Goblin on the other side warned us that we had entered into the realm of the God King Goblins! And that their mighty lord would let us return from whence we came with our lives intact in return for all of our goods! And that they only spoke in Exclamatory Sentences because their God King loved Exclamation Points!!! We politely declined the offer and a strange battle ensued.
First, for all the bluster, (!!!) there appeared to be very few goblins ready to attack. But of note, the attacks that did happen, happened from the air in the form of two manticores, ridden by a goblin each. I can personally attest to the efficacy of that strategy and without the healing aid of the party, I, Oisín the Pincushion, would surely have fell. But through the healing touch of Verxititus, and a handful of Goodberries, I was able to remain standing. I was able to cast my moonbeam spell to good effect, simply moving it around and following the target. It wiped out the goblins pretty quickly, but it took longer to bring down a manticore. Dagos was the other major damage dealer, with better-than-expected results from a shortbow shot pretty much straight up in the air. I did lose concentration once after taking damage and had to cast moonbeam a second time, but despite the challenges of a ranged battle wherein we most certainly did not hold the higher ground, we managed to knock off two goblins, scare away a third, kill a manticore, and send the second flying off as well. (It is worth noting that the sound goblins make when they hit the ground from 100+ feet high sounds a little like what you might think an exclamation point would sound like if it made a sound, so hopefully that was a pleasing sound to their God King.)
I gathered what manticore spikes I could (including those sticking out of parts of my body), skinned the wings for potential leatherworking projects, and we pushed on to get to Rennes before dark without further incident. We arrived just before sundown, and in the waning light of day, Dagos and I spotted a Hobgoblin on a hill some 300 yards off, looking into the town. While the temptation was strong to run after the shiny object, we stayed mission-focused and finished our job of delivering the caravan, had a chat with the local leader-type, and had a pretty damn good meal at the 13 Coins Inn, featuring Manticore Steak that Dagos had butchered earlier in the day. I got the usual "what the fuck kind of creature is THAT" looks from the locals, but I hardly notice it now. If they want to know the answer, I'm happy to educate them, one way or the other. But mostly I get a surprised look and a wide berth and that's frankly to my liking anyway.
Next day, we set off to scout the area in which we spied the Hobgoblin, and Dagos set to tracking the group -- at which he again proved expert. After a couple of hours of tracking, we found them about the exact same time as they found us: We got a not-entierly-unfriendly wave from the leader, who, as it turns out, was Dorokor, with whom we recently struck a Faustian agreement in the caverns on our Princess Rescue mission. With her were five impressive looking military units. They clearly had no fear of us (or showed none) and we clearly had no fear of them (or showed none). It was an awkward standoff again, although for different reasons than last time. There was an offer for a clean 1v1 battle, though I trusted little that it would remain clean or that the bargain would be kept -- or that we would win. I later learned that Griswold apparently would have been up for the battle and I feel badly to have missed the show, though again it was definitely full of potential negatives and very few possible positive outcomes. Including the potential "oops, my fireball singed your troops" aspect that would most certainly have sent us into battle.
That said, I do actually rather like -- or at least respect -- Dorokor, and if events were *wildly* different, I would like to know her better. Personally, I think I would enjoy sitting down over a drink and swapping tales, and perhaps exchange information and determine if there was a way in which we could strike a longer-term agreement, even if it was a simple non-aggression pact. I would also be most interested in her knowledge regarding the rising numbers of the undead, which might prove valuable for my quest, and may also provide a space where we can work together (or at least not at cross-purposes) to equal benefit.
As things stand, however, scouting with military troops cannot be interpreted as anything but a hostile gesture, and with our current relationship to the local lordship, our role was clear to shoo her off the property and alert the security teams in the town. She agreed to back off, and the units fell back in a very organized tactical withdrawal. Not to put too fine a point on it, but by comparison, we just sort of randomly ambled back away from the almost-battle scene. And, in the end, we got what our best possible outcome would have been had we engaged in the 1v1 battle, which was an agreement for them to back off.
The farmers and I reported back to Rennes, whose troops are now on high alert, and I will be most curious to see what might transpire next. In the meantime, we decided that we wanted to continue our mission of clearing the road of brigands and to re-secure the trade route between Malo and Rennes, and leaned yet again on the tracking skills of our Ranger to bring us back to the source of the GodKing goblin tribe. We may be in for a surprise, but then again, I think if we approach cautiously and use the element of surprise (including especially my ability to cast thorns unwitnessed) I feel we have a strong chance to succeed. That said, the party has evolved enough to know when running away is the right move, and if our assessment shows we are over our heads, I like to think we'd have the wisdom to run away.
(Also of note: The King is dead. Long live the King. I suspect, however, that there will be repercussions to this news that will shake the foundation of whatever status quo currently exists.)
Making Good Choices --
We began at the outskirts of the GoblinKing camp, where we, luckily, found a deer impaled on poison spikes in a clever ground trap. Not exactly an auspicious beginning, but a warning we took to heart nevertheless. Barton cast invisibility and carefully snuck through the surrounding areas -- which, as it turns out, were groomed for goblin-hiding positions, full of traps, and had wandering sneaky guards. Barton scouted as much of the fortification as he could, and returned to the party with his assessment. This process took a while -- and lucky that it did because during this time, horns blasted, and there was something of a changing of the guard, with a set of troops and manticores coming in to the fortification, while a like group set off. Had we rushed headlong into battle, they would have gotten reinforcements right from the get-go.
In all, the sense we got from Barton was that we would be outnumbered, up against well-trained forces, in a fortified camp that was groomed to create kill zones and full of traps. The party (wisely, I think) decided to set off after the raid/patrol/whatever party that left the camp, and with the help once again of the Ranger, followed them for the better part of the day, as they made their way south and a little east along a well-beaten track.
They set camp near nightfall, and the party quickly made plans to attack them.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. No, just kidding. We argued strategy until almost dark before settling on what amounted to a plan. Which nominally was: attack the high HP manticores and ignore the easy to kill targets that would pepper us with multiple attacks for most of the battle. Which is a dumb strategy but I guess I shouldn't expect more from a bunch of farmers. That said, the remainder of the plans were the same, which was: web the manticores, take the surprise initiative, kill things.
Barton cast his first web spell, ensnaring one of the manticores. Griswald cast Shatter, doing light damage to the manticores, but killing two goblins caught in the sphere in one shot! I decided to cast Thorns as something of a delay tactic, to force a long-range battle with the 4 bugbears and 6 remaining goblins as the party concentrated on the manticores. (Because Thorns is a concentration spell, I had to hold it for most of the battle and was unable to cast any high-damage spells until near the end of battle.) While the trapped goblins could continue to attack at range, it kept them at disadvantage for most of their shots, and prevented a zergling rush. That said, they were still damn effective at range even with disadvantage. They were, after all, GodKing goblins.
Griswold and Dagos were dealing the most damage to the manticores, though the party was getting a fairly constant barrage of arrows from the goblins, (and by "the party" I mean "Dagos") and as the manticores eventually broke free, they proved as dangerous as last time. (Kudos to Barton, btw, who managed to web one of the manticores in air, which came crashing down and taking fall damage Totally the best moment of the battle.) Meanwhile, the bugbears had managed to escape the thorns, and were now rushing the hill. Barton went down relatively quickly, twice; Dagos more or less had to hide in the trees after taking sustained damage, and Verx ended up in trouble as well, fighting off bugbears, goblin arrows, and manticores all at once. I sent my wolf to his side to slow the bugbear attack.
Eventually I let go the Thorns spell to cast Moonbeam to finish off the Manticores, then cast entangle to trap the remaining goblins, insisting that we capture one alive. Dagos ran to flank the last remaining Goblin (an excitable little fellow named Brix, as we later learned) and, incredulously, got shot (again, still at disadvantage.) With a look of surprise and disappointment, Dagos went down in a heap before we were able to finally subdue the last goblin. (Totally the second best moment of the battle.)
We licked our wounds, cast whatever remaining healing spells we had left, took a short rest, and woke up Brix, who was both supercilious and garrulous. (Really, he's quite the fucking riot.) One has to respect anyone who, tied and bound and laying in the blood of his erstwhile party, is that cocky. I like him.
He's been a font of information -- noting that he's not terribly bright and one has to filter for that fact. But while he is full of delusion, I don't sense that he is full of deception. He's shared information that is already immediately important -- including the position of a second attack point along the road, the overall disposition of the GodKing Goblin Camp (including numbers of the camp and overall layout), the basic system of communicating with the horns, and, perhaps most importantly, information about an old woman who rides into camp every so often on a Griffon and who carries with her the symbol of the rose. This is the first solid clue we've run across tying the attacks on commerce to the letter with the rose signet seal. Brix clearly thinks she is dangerous, and refers to her with more deference than anyone else he has spoken of.
Our plan is now to return back to the camp, and two strategies seem viable -- either use the horn to signal "under attack" and let a sortie come out from the fortified area where we can attack them on neutral ground, or to use an element of surprise in a direct assault on the camp. I may shape shift and come in at night to scout over the wall and get a firmer understanding of what exactly lies before us, which would inform our overall strategy.
Meanwhile, Brix continues to entertain us with stories along the road. I really want to buy that guy a beer.
A Confession, Dangerous Tentacled Things, More Undead, and a Split Party
After searching the hidden temple and the cleric's room (where we took all correspondence that existed there), we came back down to question Aleef. He was surprisingly open and helpful. So I knocked him out. Verx and I went to fetch Terris so he could hear the whole story from a hidden vantage point -- as Aleef had pointed out, it probably looked bad that we killed five townsfolk. And Terris, quite understandably, was pretty appalled at the carnage he saw in the temple. But we calmed him enough to hide and listen to Aleef's confession again. After waking him back up, Barton managed to get him to pretty much confess to the whole enterprise, including how he had used the Void Water to create "followers" with the telltale black veins in their eyes.
Even with the confession, Terris was still pretty sketch about how we were going to explain this all to the townsfolk.We decided we would explore and hopefully clear the mine the next day, and deal with the messy situation in the temple of Hades for later. After a logistical hiccup (what are we going to do with the cleric?) and a lot of discussion about elaborate plans to get the cleric out, Barton just used some sort of magic or skill to carry him out we decided we'd take him along with us to the mine as something as a good luck charm, I guess. It definitely would keep him from escaping, but did leave open the possibility of him getting killed pretty easily, being all tied up as he was. So it goes.
Down in the mine, we ran into the missing miners, who had come back as undead; more abominations that I was eager to destroy. But not as eager, it turns out, as some tentacled slime thing was to destroy me, which it did quite efficiently, and in one shot. Griswold revived me, and upon looking around, I saw Verx in a similar heap, so I revived him, and in the end, we managed to put the tentacled slimy thing down.
BTW, the light from one of Barton's Faerie Fires had just touched the edge of a pool, and it turned the Void Water from a dark black to a milky grey. Worth noting, and I still have deep misgivings about Void Water in general, but it does appear that light destroys it, and it did not blow up.
As we were preparing to go, I insisted again on the destruction of the pages from the manual that described the process for creating a flesh golem -- an absolute obscenity to nature. I believe I had made my position on abominations consistently clear. Indeed, the rise of abominations in my home land is literally why I was sent on this quest to the mainland. I believe I have stated how strongly I feel about this repeatedly. I reiterated them again. Those pages are an anathema to everything I stand for. My very purpose in this world is to maintain the natural balance, and an actual god-damned manual on how to create something that I am sworn to destroy, absolutely must be destroyed.
At any rate, I forced another vote. And largely it came down 3-2. Verx and Barton sided with me, and Dagos waffled enough to count him on Griswold's side. Nevertheless, Griswold refused to hand over the book and insisted that he wanted to study and learn it off by heart if he could, or copy it down before it was destroyed. Which, you know, sort of defeats the purpose of destroying it.
More or less, everyone sort of shrugged and said fuck it, they weren't going to argue about it. Which was infuriating as well. Because, again, DESTROYING ABOMINATIONS IS LITERALLY WHAT MY PUROSE IN LIFE IS, nbd everybody.
Instinctively, I summoned a wolf by my side. It was a statement move. Maybe a dick move. It wasn't an attack but it was my line in the sand and I figured it would force an actual decision by the party, not another meaningless vote. Anyway, everyone was sort of like, "wait, what the fuck just happened, why is there a wolf here?" and Griswold fled the scene before anyone could really react -- which was not what I expected and makes the problem hard to resolve. I must find a way to fix what I've undone. It was, at best, a failed bluff. At worst, a betrayal to the party. If I could do it over, I'd have tried to steal it in the night, rip out the "How to build your own abomination to nature" section, given the book to Hulay to return, and fled town.
I feel shitty about how this went down and what this will do to the group. So it goes.
A Town in Decay, a Cult Uncovered, and a Prisoner Taken
We elected to unravel the mysteries of the Void Water Mine, under the partial guise of helping to get the mine restarted. We were escorted by the guard, who were heading up to take their shift in the town of Méloir des-Ondes. We were sent to meet up with Terris, at the Falling Rod. Which, perhaps, was named based on the likelihood of things falling on you in the dilapidated building. The town with such a promising name (Meloir of the Waves) turned out to be sort of a rundown ramshackle of a town. And perhaps the darkness that is settling like a mist on the land has had its impact here, and should we ever find and eradicate the source, the town may shine again. Or maybe it will remain a broken-down dirty little outpost. But I prefer to think the former over the latter.
Nevertheless, we met our man, and were just settling in to get some more information when the local cleric came in and started yelling about the evil of the mine and that it needed to be shut down. Terris told him to fuck right off, but the speech apparently wound up some of the locals who decided to attack the elf. (Which dear reader, is me. (I get that a lot.)) Of note, the eyes of each of the attackers (who were just regular townsfolk that Terris knew by name) were all shot through with black veins. Which we took to be a Bad Sign.
At any rate, we managed to knock them each unconscious and tie them up under the guard's protection. (Props to Griswold, btw, who stepped right into the fray, with a most unusual flailing of arms. If he hit any less effectively, he might have accidentally healed his assailant. To his credit, he may never have been in a bar fight before. And if he's lucky, will never be in one again. But a gold star for effort!) Questioning the tainted townsfolk proved utterly fruitless, so we knocked them out again. I did some spying in the church using a frog shape while Griswold kept an overall eye on the place to make sure nothing untoward happened to the frog. I discovered both an antechamber and a secret door. I came back to the party and related what I found -- The general idea was that I was going to sneak back into the antechamber in frog form, and they were going to chat up the cleric while I resumed my normal form to unlock the secret door and quietly investigate what was behind it.
What we found was that the cleric was not home, and we fell prey to the "Fuck Its" and decided to all just go through the secret door together. We discovered a spiral staircase that led a *long* way down, into an odd chasm -- partially carved, partly natural -- that glowed a most unusual light. There was also some chanting going on, and we all sort of strolled just into view, froze, and all tiptoed back out of sight. Which, if anyone would have noticed, would have looked pretty amusing. Having fell back, we began to talk about our strategy, but caught the Fuck Its again, and all just came piling back in determined to fight whatever was there. Which, I suppose, is a form of strategy.
Turns out, what was there was the priest, a handful of the commoners, a few larger, more dangerous uncommoners, and a Very Very Dangerous, exceedingly uncommon, giant abomination of a foul creature made of flesh. We did a good job of knocking off the weaker enemies first to eliminate the number of attacks against us, and turned our attention to the priest, the big dude, and the really, really big dude.
There were some solid attacks and the party continues to coalesce as a fighting unit. Barton and Griswold dealt out some strong magic from behind the lines (huge props to Barton with some of his support and healing spells that literally were life-savers.) Verixititus and Dagos held the front line (other than that one time when Dagos went sprinting out of battle, only to come sprinting back again a moment later. I wasn't paying enough attention to what was happening but my best guess is he forgot to pee before battle, ran back to take a leak, and came running up again to resume fighting.). For myself, I was moderately effective, and was thankful to have my fey companion fighting with us. Near the end, my wolf and I ran over to knock the cleric out -- I wanted him out of battle, but definitely wanted him alive for questioning. I tied and gagged him to make sure he won't be any trouble while we sorted stuff out.
Speaking of stuff: There was a small trove of items that I think are going to be *super* useful to the party. I, for one, will feel a lot more confident helping hold the front line when needed with the new spear and shield. And the web-casting wand that landed with Barton is going to be a damn handy thing to have when fighting crowds: Immobilize the crowd, then the magic users of the group cast area spells at them. Should be a good show. We also picked up a scroll that will revive someone from the dead if just recently departed, a handful of gold and gems, and a notebook over which we will need to come to a quick resolution.
The notebook contains instructions on creating a flesh golem -- which is an abomination to nature and I am 100% insistent that we immediately destroy those pages. Griswold, I think, is going to be resistant to that, and it will, unfortunately, be a hard test of the party. I just don't see a way past this. I literally exist in this world to help keep balance in nature, and am sworn to destroy that which tears at the very fabric of nature. These pages qualify.
This is not a function of being anti-knowledge or anti-magic. Just as religions all draw from the Divine Nature, Magic draws, at its core, from the elemental forces of nature. So I am not anti-magic by any means. And the druids have been the keepers of knowledge for our civilizations for as long as history exists. But this particular combination of knowledge and magic that are used create an aberration/abomination, I will do all in my power to destroy, without hesitation.
I have spoken.
The Thickening Plot; New Town, New Enemies, New Subterfuge
After summoning pack horses for the job, we managed to get Andy and his goods on the road and heading back to town, Malo. As we approached, all did not seem well with the town. A storm had risen over the walled port town and as we approached, the force of the storm was matched with the shouts and cries of battle, with the gate we arrived at left ajar with no guards. In the harbor were three raiding ships with sails set, ready to run, each with an image of a stylized face in a stylized wave.
Andy decided to head away from the action and said he'd meet us at La Chemise Blanc, apparently the local inn of good repute, while we headed towards the fighting and chaos. It did not take us long to find the enemy, a band of orcs we will later discover to be from Odzedoz clan. They live on the island of Jersey to the northwest of town, and while I've never been there, I've heard that Jersey is a shithole.
We battled our way through some orc guards and some already-burned orcs and made our way into the building, where we found more orcs. But of greatest note was the interaction we just caught between a Great Orc and what appeared to be a local mage. There was a mention of a name, Hulay, that may have deeper connections and this sage may simply be his/her puppet. The mage was clutching a book, and pleading with the Great Orc to honor some nefarious deal they had made to wipe out the local cabal of sages. The Great Orc slew the local sage, and ran off with the book, our party quick on his heels. We *just* failed to nab him, after a wild chase and some damn unlucky moments, and he mounted a great vulture from atop the building and flew off, calling his troops to retreat as well.
We barely had time to search the premises (which we learned belonged to Vibius Ruhmeid Nammod) before the local guard showed up and, while respectfully thanking us for our help, also respectfully asked us to fuck off from the premises -- which isn't too unreasonable given that they don't know who the hell we are. We made our way to the inn, found Andy, and met the innkeep, Herius, who is a most excellent fellow. He claims lineage to Boyner -- and while everyone claims lineage to some mythical figure out of the dim recesses of the past, he certainly proved to be as helpful as his would-be progenitor, and for a very small fee will manage all our business and trade in town, freeing us up from an administrative nightmare, especially in a new town.
Obviously, that has greater impact to me than the others because A: I can't stand administrative detail work, and B: I am a stranger in a strange land, and my race is very much garnering some odd stares -- some out of curiousity, some out of fear, and some out of disgust. I plan to play up the magical nature of my race a wee bit -- I'm comfortable being a little mysterious. Chicks dig mysterious.
We also met up with the town master, Galerius Rhukhim Mastid, and shared with him our tale, and asked both about Hulay and Vibius. He claimed no knowledge of Hulay, and was very, very quick to protect the name of Vibius. It was immediately clear that he wasn't going to accept that Vibius was part of the plot -- whether that's because he was fooled by Vibius, or because he was part of the plot and wanted it covered up I don't know. But we wisely dropped it immediately -- I would like to talk more with some other folks to see what they know about him. I am also given to understand that our own mage had dealings with Vibius.
There was some talk about next steps, and the consensus seems to have been something about a mine and Void Water. Which I guess is a job and perhaps it will have some clues related to our current two mysteries. I'd like to figure out how they all tie together. Though I currently believe that they are two distinct and separate actions, there may well be a higher force at work -- that is, the Orcs and the Goblins may well be acting independently of the other, but perhaps the person above them is driving this chaos.
I also met up with two other prominent figures: Totavali, the leader of the local Celts, and Andecarus, a Druid local to the area. I will need to spend time with each and hopefully get some insight from them regarding both the local raids and politics as well as some potential answers to my larger quest to uncover the wellhead of the raids and unrest at home -- and, apparently, abroad.
Goblin Clues
After bidding farewell to the local lord, the newly-formed party decided quickly our first course of action was to follow the goblin trail back to its source; hopefully to find clues as to who was the mastermind behind the goblin raid. Fortunately, we have a ranger in our midst who would be able to follow the trail back to its source. Turns out, Dagos likes his sauce, and what I originally mistook for swagger was actually stagger. I don't know when he found time to have a dram, but it became evident that he was on the gargle for a while.
"Hey, look, I found the trail!"
"No, wait, I lost the trail."
"Hey, look, I found the trail again" <starts marching back the way we came>
"Oh, wait, now there's fresh tracks over the Goblin tracks."
It went like this for a while, but credit where it's due: While I wouldn't say he led us to the goblin camp unswervingly, I will say he led us there swervingly. He did his unlevel best, polluted as he was.
The camp was at the opening of a ravine, with two goblins engaged in a pissing match, and one bugbear sleeping at his post. The party dispatched the group quickly and efficiently, only having to point Dagos in the right direction a couple of times. Perhaps overconfidently, we decided to press on to scope out what lay ahead of us in the ravine. Just past the opening, there was a cave with several giant wolves, which we decided to take on: We put the ranger in front to lead the sneak attack, which would have been more successful if Dagos hadn't stopped every three feet or so, giggle, and then say "Shhh!" to himself in a not sneaky way.
Despite what, as Barton called "sudden gusts of incompetence" from our gee-eyed ranger, we managed to dispatch the wolves, and despite some goblins telling the wolves to shut up, we managed to not draw attention in the form of additional attackers. Which was good, because we all sort of realized we used up several spells trying to impress the lord. (I was guilty of this as well.)
Griswold had the idea of dragging off the wolves and then the bodies of the goblins to hide away. It was a good idea, and we made relatively quick work of it, trying to hide our trail as best we could. We then retreated back to a fairly safe-looking space, made a cold camp, rested up, and decided to reapporach the caves in the light of the morning.
There were several guards and scouts out front, and, lacking a better plan, we simply started attacking them. We set up a massively successful kill zone just outside the ravine, as goblins came pouring out, only to be doubly flanked by our party. It wasn't until some hobgoblins showed up to marshal their troops did we face real trouble. We started waging an ineffective ranged weapon war, but it became clear that we were going to have to take the battle to them again, as Verxatatis fell in front of me. I fed him a goodberry (and popped the remaining four in my mouth), and he performed an act he described as "laying hands on myself." It didn't seem appropriate to battle, but it seemed to revive him.
I pause here to inform you that Barton, our minstrel, has an astonishingly, shockingly, foul mouth, hurling insults that would make a sailor blush. I wasn't sure what he was up to and started to wonder if perhaps he'd gotten into the liquor as well, but as I watched, Barton *literally* mocked someone to death. I swear I'm not making this up.
At any rate, in we pressed, and again Barton had some surprises up his sleeve. He dashed ahead and let off one of his explosive thunder attacks, and goblins could be seen flying all over, mostly into walls, and mostly to their death. I think we were all thunderstruck, but Dagos summed up our astonishment best, as he exclaimed, "What the fuck is an acoustic gelatinous cube?" What indeed, my friend. What indeed.
We surrounded the remaining enemies and were able to dispatch them despite deep injuries to several in our party. As we swept the rest of the compound, we found several items of interest -- most notably, an order to the goblins to keep making attacks and to start taking prisoners -- it was closed with a wax seal bearing the symbol of the rose. I believe this will be an important clue in helping us track who is masterminding the operation, and will hopefully lead us closer to the blight that is besetting the world. We also found a prisoner -- a trader -- along with his gear. We offered to escort him back to town where he could gather a cart and oxen to reclaim what he lost here. That may also prove to be a source of work for us to keep us going as I continue to search for signs of any Druid enclaves in the area.
Fortunate Meetings
'Tis a strange land I wander these days, and in strange times. And the sidelong looks and increasingly hostile glances I have received on the road thus far reminds me that to the locals, I am both strange and a stranger. I have been fortunate thus far to have met up with Griswald as we both took passage to the continent from our respective isles -- both for the company (and the fishing), and for the optics of traveling with another human in human lands.
My mission here is clear, and I need to reach the local Druid circle to both impart the news from Eire of the invasions of orcs and goblins, and more troubling, the rise of undead, as well as to capture the news from the continent. I feel I am close, and will keep looking for druidic signs or for places of power where they might congregate, or where I can leave Ogham runes they might find. Until I have found them (or they, I) I have been thinking about how I might best spend my time, and how I might find some sort of employ that will allow me to continue my search.
You all know the saying, "The Luck of the Elves," and fortune was smiling on me today -- not only did she place enemies I might slay in our path, she also placed a noble and an additional pair of adventurers in our path as well which, as you'll see, turned out quite handsomely.
We came upon a scene where a lord and his men were ambushed by a gang of goblins. I conjured my fey wolf while Griswold found cover to cast spells from a safe distance. While the spirit beast fell quickly, it did suffice to hold two goblins attention long enough for me to entangle them and keep them from joining the fray in the middle. I'll spare you the details, but despite having two immobile goblins, it took me a bit to sort out my cantrips and finally get them to land (noting that Griswold took out one for me).
Meanwhile, across the way, we heard a giant clap of thunder, and from off the southern cliffs came two goblins, flying ass over tits as they tumbled to their death. I didn't find out until after that was the work of a Bard by the name of Barton Quagmire. Also coming from the opposite side was a Ranger, Dagos, and a Paladin, Verxatitus. Betwixt the twain, they managed to put down most of the goblins on that side, and also did some quick healing of the royal and his guards.
When all was said and done, we met in the middle, smiling a bit about our luck in all being there for the rescue. But as I said earlier, luck was raining on us today; turns out the person we helped rescue was one Titus Caletti, of Bruic. He was most helpful in providing some details of the area, including some possible trails we could follow for further employ and adventure. He -- like all his kind -- clearly held some deep ignorant distrust of my race, but pricked his courage up to shake my hand. It was a generous gesture from anyone, especially a lord, and I hope I comported myself well enough to let him know it was appreciated.
The five rescuers -- Gris and myself, along with Dagos, Verxatitus, and Barton -- fell in pretty quickly together and before we knew what was happening, we were getting married. Haha, I'm joking. But we *did* agree we'd continue to adventure as a party, and I'd say at first blush, I've got a good feeling about them. Hearing this, Titus provided us with a writ of some kind or other providing us some security and exemption from the script. (He made a pretty big point about the writ was really for Verxatitus, and would extend to the party. I wasn't in a position to quibble, but I may want to get Verxatitus to write the rest of the party a note as well -- it won't carry any weight, per se, but it might be just enough to buy time for V to show up and vouch for us should anything untoward happen while he wasn't in reach.)
Looking back, I strongly suspect the goblin attack was not a chance encounter -- they had archers on cliffs at either side of the path and a coordinated effort on the ground attacking the noble's party. The ambush was well-planned and, were it not for fortune's intervention, it would have clearly been successful. (As a side note, I suspect these efforts were likely directed by someone else -- none of the creatures we slayed seemed bright enough to have worked out the logistics so well.)
Given this, and given the fresh tracks, I believe the party has resolved to follow the ranger, who will be able to follow their tracks back to their source, and perhaps we can root out a nest of the monsters. I look forward to whatever fortune puts in front of us.
