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Felan

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  1. First Patrol: Fifth Entry [Recorded in Old Wyrmish] I drew my dagger and made ready to throw it. Chingua made to stab at the devious tusk rider but in a devious fashion it flicked a blinding spray of dirt into Chingua's face. Bera shoves at and moves both Farangar and devious, the former remaining on his feet while the latter loses his footing. Devious and scrambles away and to his feet, pulling Farangar's sword out of his hand. Farangar leapt at devious, who turned just enough that Farangar smashes his wall; Farangar's helmet protects him but his feet betray him and he sprawls out on the floor. I was blocked still by Bera and didn't have an angle so I helplessly muttered a curse at Rhakathol, an ancient draconic being known for spoiling the aim of his adversaries. Chingua cleared the grit out of his eyes. The tusker animals above seem agitated and make quite the ruckus, providing a poignant reminder that the torturer is still up there. Bera with a fierce roar hurled his spear at devious and pins him to the wall and devious passed into an oblivion that we later insured would be permanent. Farangar regains his feet and when I looked around everyone still seemed hale and ready to pursue the torturer. I ran to the bottom of the stairs going up with a cask of oil in hand. Bera stepped on devious' chest and yanked his spear free. Farangar pulled his sword out of the entangled mess of devious and started toward the stairs up. I dashed a good ways up the stairs into the choas of tuskers freaking out and the torturer mounted on his tusker, I hurled my cask at the torturer but it fell just short smashing into a flaming heat that added to the tuskers panic. Chingua was on my heels and by the flickering light my smashed cask he was able to hurl and impale his spear on the torturer's leg, whose howl of agony I confess to having taken no small pleasure in and by Chingua's fierce grin he felt the same. Bera was blocked by Chingua on the stairs so he cast his bladesharp on his broadsword so both his weapons were dangerously sharp. With the fire catching the tuskers were in full panic and storming to the exit and we decided to just let them go rather than risk injury trying to kill them. We extinguished the fires, aired out the tower and brought our horses in for a day of rest out of the heat. Over that day we looted the corpses of the tusk riders, loading the gear on our horses, and disposed of their corpses. We scoured the tower and things of note were the shrine in the basement, an ornate chest on the first floor, and some mushrooms in the cistern. I was able to identify the altar as one to the bloody tusk god and with the group gathered said that we should smash and desacrate it. We engage in a lively debate about whether we should risk the divine wrath of the tusker god. In the end we agreed to the desacration. I am very grateful that we desacrated the shrine as the bloody tusk god is no Babeestor Gor. We scoured the tower and found a couple of interesting things: an ornate chest and some mushrooms. The ornate chest was the one that we didn't get opened before Farangar fell into the cistern. I was able to discern that the lock was trapped but it was more clever than I and my finger got jabbed with a poisoned needle and my arm was flush with an intense agony. Thankfully Aba was able to extract first the needle then the poison and in less than an hour I was back to my normal self. Need to remember to buy Aba a beer when we get back to the Duke's. The mushrooms were foraged up by Aba, who showed them to us. He explained that they were chaos mushrooms and then showed us how to destroy them properly. His hatred of chaos was made abundantly clear in that instruction. The final tally of archelogical finds was: one weird scroll estimated value 200 lunars, the ornate chest estimated value 200 lunars, the bejeweled jawbone estimated value 250 lunars, and the tarnished dagger estimated value 500 lunars. In the morning we departed this forlorn smelly tower and headed north along a well travelled trails along the tops of the cliffs. Around noon we spied a pack of 6 large 3 meter long reptiles that had a predatory look to them, though none of us knew what they were. I was reminded of a conversation Bera and I had with a Zola Fel priest on the way down from Big Rubble, he had confessed to having been recently robbed. We asked why he didn't fight and he said when there was a big in rock in the river, it was the river's way to around the rock. It was in that spirit that we went wide around the lizards. Toward evening we made it to Jebba's Spire. Chingua spotted some cloven hoof prints and mentioned they were bipedal. None of sure what it could be but it was so very strange, that we were all very apprehensive about approaching too close. We waited till night and I agreed to don Lanbril's cloak and sneak in. When I got there all I saw were the burnt out remains of a campfire and a wet bag. Curious for a clue and not wanting to return with nothing, fear of seeming cowardly, I snatched up the bag. The note to self is unnecessary and perhaps to anyone reading this it is also unnecessary, but in case it is necessary, let me suggest that picking up mysterious wet bags abadoned in dismal places is a throughly bad idea. When I got back to the others with my dubious prize they were all rather horrified by my diligence and upon opening the bag we only saw a mass of blood laden bandages, which I dutifully burned. Aba inspected me and a nasty rash was evident and he said it was the red pox. The next morning when we woke my entire body was embraced with this rash and red pustules weeping foul blood cling to my hand like barnacles to a ship I once saw as a child when mother took me south to a port city, whose name I forget. We continued our journey and I slipped in and out of feverish dreams, one I remember was of my body grotesquely transform into a sailing ship, my head at the bow howling in agony with red festering sore barnacles all along my keel constantly burning as the salty water settled into the ever fresh wounds of the barnacles. It seemed an eternity but someone said we were near the Duke's camp. Wearily I lifted my head and there was a newtling executed and on display, so sudden was the sight that I nearly reeled in fright from my horse. The others got Dane's attention and let him know my horrible and honesly humiliating state. I must confess some irrational and burning irritation as Dane asked where I got the disease. Chingua told him I got it from a cave in Jebba's Spire. I was taken away to an isolated tent to be treated. The others declared everything we found except I think the jawbone and dagger which were in my pack. I was too feverish to declare them and the others just probably forgot about them or maybe they didn't, it was impossible to discern reality from fever. While I was being treated for the red pox I had a most visceral experience of executed newtlings pulling themselves off their posts and crawling their broken bodies into my tent and then standing over me and force feeding me their severed tails into my parched mouth, a deserty dry throat trying but unable to scream.
  2. First Patrol: Fourth Entry [Recorded in Old Wyrmish] I sat down on the chair that tripped me to catch my breathe and idly watched as Chingua delivered a final mercy to all the final foes and the others set about stripping and piling their gear. Except Bera who moved to watch over the stairs coming up. Farangar had made his way up the outside of the tower and was creeping down the stairs giving us quite the start. In the room the armored tusk rider had come from was a locked chest and just as I was getting up to head over and open it, there was a crack from the stairway to the ground floor and then a splash. We all rushed over and saw that Farangar had taken a few steps down the stairs and stepped into a false step pit to some dark place below. His splashing was confirmed when he let us know it was dark and he was treading water and that there were some sharp rocks that he narrowly missed. Bera ran to the roof to pull up the rope we used to climb the tower, while Farangar swam to the west and luckily pulled himself up on a slimey ledge. After catching a whiff of the smell coming up from the hole in the stairs, I joked that it was just Farangar's luck to find the tusk rider's toilet and we all quietly laughed about it. Before Bera had gotten back Farangar said he heard something moving in the dark. Later he said that he couldn't see anything so he just turtled up behind his massive shield and tried to fend the sources of noise off with his sword. We could hear weapons whacking against shield and the rustle of his armor as he scooted back against a wall. Bera came back and we lowered a lantern tied to the rope and wedged my grapple into the stones to secure it. Chingua was the first to climb down, who let the rest of us know there were six skeletons down there. Chingua started the rope swinging and with a wild whoop launched himself toward the largest mass of the skeletons to bring his spear down on them, unfortunately the light wasn't good enough for him to see the slimy floor and his feet gained no purchase and he landed on his back and cried out in surprise, frustration, and a tiny bit of pain. Worst of all he couldn't carry out his planned attack. We could hear three blows raining against Farangar's shield, thwack-thwack-pause-clang. Another couple thwacks echoed up with Chingua's grunts letting us know he was parrying blows as well. I helped Bera onto the rope and he slid down the chute and after surveying the scene, he started swinging at a different angle than Chingua had. A particular yell echoed up that we associated with Farangar's shield bash but instead of the boom of the shield hitting bones we hear Farangar yelp as his feet slip around on the slimy stones but it sounds like he manages to stay on his feet. Bera launches himself off of the rope and lands in a slime free part of the ledge. I slide down the rope. Chingua is on his back fending off four skeletons but he realizes he's not getting anywhere by parrying so he trusts in his armor and stamina while he tries to get back to his feet, but his feet find no purchase and a skeleton jabs him slightly in the gut. While Farangar is still recovering after his failed bash, he has exposed his left arm to attack and a skeleton mechanically beating against his shield slips at just the right time and greatly wounds Farangar's arm, forcing him prone and to let go his shield. Another skeleton brought it's sword down at Farangar but the tenacious warrior deflected it with his blade in spite of his pain. Farangar sets his heel against a raised stone and pushes himself away from the skeletons, the slimy coating of the ledge helping him disengage. A skeleton marks a significant hit against Chingua's left thigh but he stalwartly refuses to waste his strength in defending himself. Bera brings his sword down on skeleton's arm and as his sword snaps the bones in half the whole skeleton clatters to a pile of bones and blows away as dust. Bera yells out, "You barely have to wound these things to dispatch them, so stop farting around!" Chingua took a couple of blows that bounced off his armor but slipped again on the slime trying to get up. Farangar regained his footing and moved back in to engage a couple of the skeletons fighting Chingua. Chingua takes a minor wound to his left arm. Bera swept his sword cleaved through two of the skeletons, turning both to clattering dust. Chingua finally got his feet under him and drove his spear into the chest of one of the skeletons and Chingua's frustration found some satisfaction as the skeleton powdered mid-air. Unfortunately all of Chingua's struggles have left him fatigued. Bera cleaves the skull of another skeleton and Chingua finishes the last one off. I leap from the swinging rope and miss my mark landing in the foul stagnant waters, cursing my timing. Farangar treats his own arm and manages to mitigate the most grievous harm and regain use of it. Aba starts to climb down but as none of us are certain there is a way out of here on foot we ask him to stay up top in case we need him to fetch more ropes from Farangar's horse. Farangar, Chingua, and myself spend magic on healing Chingua's many minor injuries. While Chingua rests the rest of us look around the chamber. My knowledge of lost places quickly tips me off that one of the tombstones is odd and I ask the group, "One of these tombstones doesn't belong, guess which one?" Quickly we are all looking at this tombstone that is constructed in parts rather than a whole stone. I cast Find Magic and see a glow of something embedded in the tombstone. "Let's crack it open," I say. The others though are worried about revenants popping out of the air and want to know our escape path before we do it. I searched and easily found a mechanism to open a granite slab at the top of some short stairs but when I opened it, there was just a dark room beyond so I immediately closed it again. "Well there is the way out, but it's dark and likely another fight will be had there. Let's get the treasure we can here before we press on." The others reluctantly agree and I use my crowbar to pry apart the pieces of the tombstone and find an old box and after checking for traps I open it. Inside and after examination is a tarnished silver dagger with a Darkness matrix and a jawbone filled with teeth that have been replace entirely with tarnished silver pins driven into the bone and set with semi-precious minerals. A search of the dusty piles of skeleton remains turns up just much corroded weapons and a few tatters of cloth and hair. Pleased with my find in the tombstone I was leading Chingua to the stairs and pivoting granite slab, when it occurred to me that we had made quite a lot of noise in the fight and even searching this place. A sudden chill enveloped me and I decided to show Chingua how to operate the mechanism and withdrew to the bottom of the stairs behind everyone else, all of whom had more armor and skill in a fight than I. Chingua opened the slab and peered into the darkness tossing one then another torch in but seeing little. Carefully he peeked in and narrowly parried a two handed club with nails pounded in it, accompanied by a gravelly growl that sounds very much like a tusk rider. A broadsword completely missed him. I try but fail to cast Bladesharp on Farangar, who was behind Chingua. Chingua moved into the room to allow Farangar to step up in his place. In the far corner was a bloody human, recently tortured to death. The tusk rider holding the large club was dressed in bloody leather apron, like what a butcher, armorer, or torturer would wear. Chingua thrust his spear fiercely at the torturer, aiming for his unarmored right arm biting deeply and stunning him though he didn't lose his grip on the club. Bera tries to cast protection on himself, failing. A devious tusk rider behind Chingua tries to stab him in the back but it bounces off his armor. Farangar thrusts his sword at devious, who failed to parry, and impales him in his right arm but mostly sticking in armor. I cast a Bladesharp on Bera. Bera failed to cast Protection on Farangar. I cast Bladesharp on myself. Bera cast Protection on himself. Devious tried to brawn Farangar's sword away from him but Farangar just smirked at him. The torturer tried to disengage with Chingua trying refuse to let him, but Chingua's fatigue was too much. Farangar tried to pull his sword free of devious' arm, but without better leverage it was too thoroughly ensared. Devious was blocking the way up the stairs that the torturer went.
  3. Pharzeela's Adventure Journal, First Patrol: Third Entry [Recorded in Old Wyrmish] The darkness of night crept over the tower as we tending the reddish glow of our campfire. We each had taken naps and prayers as we could, readying for the night assault. A chill settled over all of us, harried away with courage, as Chingua and I quietly crept in the trollhome [translator's note: a Pavis word for the side of a building deepest in shadow] of the tower. I whispered to Chingua that while I worship Lanbril, I am a scholarly archeologist and not a thief. He seemed accepting enough and I asked for Lanbril's protection on Chingua and as the darkness coalesced around him, I swear I saw a fleeting but all too cheeky grin in the writhing darkness enveloping Chingua before it settled into nothingness. I knew of Chingua's success when the loose coils of the rope I lent him whispered and thudded at my feet. I invoked Lanbril's shadowy protection for myself and climbed up the tower with aid of rope, nearly slipping near the top. Once there we saw two half-bird and half-woman creatures slumbering in nests at opposite ends of the tower's roof. We split up, Chingua crept up on the creature at the backside nearest the stairs going down and I the creature at the front. I tossed a coin over the front edge to let our companions know it was time for them to ascend the tower and readied my spear as Chingua readied his. Chingua struck first and mine a moment later. Chingua impaled and knocked unconscious his foe but my foot kicked a pebble that gave mine just a smidge of warning, I still impaled my spear on her head but she was conscious still. Chingua readied his javelin and I tucked my spear under my shield arm and drew my short sword to stab the filthy creature, but she managed to yank the spear away from my grip and she struggled away from the roof till Chingua's javelin took her in the chest and in a pitiful whimper she fell with a bone cracking thud to the ground and Farangar mercifully ended her misery. We all gathered on the roof and I led the way down the stairs. A dark stinky room with two doors from which we heard muted tusker conversation. Abba and I took the door opening from the while Chingua and Bera took the door opening from the east, Farangar remained out front to start a fire on the keep's main gate if necessary. Chingua and Bera burst into the room and caught two tuskers sitting at a table, unfortunately the table was at the south end of the room and Abba and I as we came into the room were sorely out of position for our hoped for ambush from behind. Bera charged the far side of the table at a more mystical looking tusker while Chingua rushed the closer more martial looking tusker. Bera impaled his spear in the tusker's left leg, knocking him to the ground and stunning him. Chingua missed while his enemy drew sword and fell back to the south end of the room near another door from which more sounds could be heard. Bera viciousily ripped his spear from the tusker's leg, dealing so severe a wound, that all the tusker could do was feebly curse and try to stave off death by holding the wound. I leapt up on and across the length of the table to stab my sword into the martial tusker but my foot got entangled in the chair on the farside and I cut myself with my own sword, I could hear my mother's oft-uttered words about how I'm not cut out for an adventurous life. Still in every failure a lesson is learned. A heavily armored tusker burst into through the south door and brought his dark gleaming and very dangerous looking sword down in a powerful blow that shattered the remains of the chair I had fumbled into but thankfully I had just managed to step out of the way of. The martial tusker took advantage of my dodge to draw his sword painfully along a good length of my sword arm, causing it to bleed. Bera threw his spear at the tusker that had just wounded me and the tusker was gracious enough to swallow the spear and chase it to hell. Abba got as close as he could and cast a shimmer on me that made it harder for my foe's blades to find me. Chingua whacked the heavily armored tusker and managed to press his advantage but barely scratching him beneath the heavy armor. Bera and Chingua furiousily tried to beat the armored foe but it was like beating a boulder. I tried to heal myself but my blood loss and fatigue made it too difficult, though I did manage to scramble back to Abba who was able to heal me and stop the bleeding. The heavily armored tusker withdrew into the south room enough to reduce the angles of attack from Chingua and Bera. Chingua grimly attacked again but the armor held. Bera readied his weapon. I moved up behind Chingua and tried to cast Bladesharp on his weapon but I was still too fatigued. Abba moved up beside me and touched Chingua as he cast protection on him. The armored tusker thrust his sword at Bera's bowels but Bera parried the sword and it bit into the door frame instead. Chingua thrust again and drove his weapon into the eye slot of the tusker and it fell to the ground alive but unconscious.
  4. Pharzeela's Adventure Journal, First Patrol: Second Entry [Recorded in Old Wyrmish] We were a bit nervous with nearly all of the 200 morokanth so very clearly displeased. Some of group thought this would be war, if not now then eventually. With such thoughts in our minds we decided to press on with our tour of the Duke's lands, even pushing late into the night to put more distance between us and the morokanth. My companions spoke in nervous tones about the morokanth war party they were sure was following us, though I thought their concerns unfounded. They had wanted to press on further but I pointed that we were approaching a bog and mucking about that in the night was a bad idea. Reason won out and Chingua found us a nice defensible camp for us, even though we were in the deep night and deeper darkness of Bilos Gap. In the morning we set off again, my companions generally more worried about what was behind us then what lay ahead. From the eastern side of the Easy Ford we were enveloped in a charnal smoke and we could just make out something on the eastern side of the ford. Approaching as we found the burnt remains of three deceased impala riders, sans the impalas. Bera, our Humakti, was concerned that these bodies would rise again. Such strange barbarian superstitions to think undead will pop up like dandelions given even the slightest opportunity. I thought it better to give them a more proper funerary but none of us really knew what those were and my companions pointed out with that morokanth warband hounding us, time was precious. Bera burned the corpses further with green vegetation that smoked so bad I led my horse a bit away, deciding not to challenge the barbarian's beliefs. Meanwhile Chingua was more productive and found some hooven tracks. Between Chingua and Bera they figured out the tracks were of the boars riden by Tusk Riders. We were told Tusk Riders are related to trolls and often mercenaries. Troll cousins on swine, Lanbril help me as barbarism seeks ever new novelty. The worse news was that the tracks went naturally enough toward our own destination, the Stone Tower. Good fortune for us that the evidence foreshadows the danger ahead. Late the next day we were passing through a cut in the land and Chingua hissed a warning to us as two tusk riders rounded the bend ahead. Remembering the carnage from the Easy Ford, we all started casting our bladesharps. I moved back to put my horse and self behind a pile of stones with Abba, while opposite and forward of us Farangar lead his horse another pile of rocks and repeatedly failing to get his bladesharp cast. Chingua and Bera took positions in the center of the road. The tusk riders spotted us at last and started to give a sign of greeting. Given later events this was undoutably a trick to lure us into complacency, these swine barbs seem to know little of common decency. In any case, seeing we weren't prey for their deceptions they charged Bera's horse of all things. Impolite and stupid these tusk riders are. Both of the tusk riders missed the befuddle and defenseless horse, the first narrowly avoided Chingua's attack as he charged past. Farangar remounted his horse and turning and moving back towards us. I walked up behind the second stupid tusk rider and with my shortsword landed a solid blow on it's head dealing a small wound and also ripped the lance out of his hand and tossed it behind him. Chingua readied his javelin, dropping his spear at his feet. Bera moved toward the first rider who was just out of reach. The first rider turned and rode back past us again. The second sought to do the same but I managed to trip him off his boar, stunning and severly injuring his leg. Chingua position himself to intercept the first rider should he charge back at us. Farangar charged the first rider and badly wounded the rider's arm. I took another swipe at the downed rider but despite being stunned and wounded he managed to get his shield between my sword and his certain injury. Bera moved up to the downed rider and demanded his surrender and so terrified was the rider that he complied. Farangar relented his pursuit and the first rider escaped. All in all our first battle together was a success, even if it was a bit of a jumble. I suppose people on foot fighting those on mounts will likely always be a jumbled affair, I'll have to enquire of a better means of engaging in such fights. Bera tied up our prisoner and I tended to it's wounds. Questioning him proved fruitless and the others wanted to just kill him and be done with it. Bera and I successfully argued that perhaps we could make nice with the riders by trading their man back to them. We put him on my horse and we continued toward the tower. Chingua pointed out a mass of buzzards circling in the distance, but we opted to not investigate. We stopped a good bit short of the tower to come up on it during the day rather than night. In the morning I fed our prisoner under the disapproving glares of Chingua and Farangar. We approached the Stone Tower, also known as Nosferati's Tower. At the top of the tower there was quite a racket of bird like noise. The tower itself was solidly built, three stories high. The door was shut firmly. Bera and I approached and banged against the door while the others stood back in sight but out of range. No answer came from within, rather the tusk riders opted the curtesy of chucking javelins at Bera and I. I withdrew while Bera, sporting a javelin in his shield invoked the Duke's authority, earning a twin for the first javelin. After Bera withdrew, Farangar approached with the prisoner and the tower tuskers pelted the prisoner with two javelins, the prisoner's helmet saving his life. We stablized the prisoner and later questioned him and he said that we should just kill him for he has felt the shame of defeat. I asked why he surrendered if death was the preferable option and apparently deepened his shame further. So I took him in view of the tower and yelled out, "This one has confessed his shame and asks for deliverance from that shame." Then I slit his throat. I pondered my memories of the place and from what I could recall there was never any vampire in the tower but rather it was built by a necromancer on a solid bed of stone. No hope of finding a secret passage in. We discussed whether to report to the Duke or deal with this problem ourselves. We aren't required to deal with it but I worried for the safety of people passing through the area of such a strategically positioned tower with such bloody-minded raiders in residence. Between that and the outrage of their lack of hospitality we have opted to attack the tower. The plan is that Chingua and I will sneak around back while the rest start a fire at the door and make themselves a distraction. Chingua will climb to the top, with the aid of Lanbril's magic to keep him hidden and then he'll pull me up. The others will come around the back and we'll pull them up as well and then we will purge the tower of these rude swine barbs.
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