Deeds and Danger 3: The Fourth Dawn

Calculated Chin Movements A/K/A The Game We Found Out Josh has 14's in all his Personal Stats
Grant's IC Log

What proceeds is the affirmed written travel log by Grant Greystone, Brother Crusader and Servant Son of Heironeous, Righteous be his Valor,

After challenging that cowardly cannibal that Xarthas identified as a halfling, out group was picked up, washed away, and battered by the tidal wave trap sprung by the pint sized monster. The wave dumped us in to the city, finding it abandoned. Curious.

The only trace of civilized folk are their household pets, now becoming feral and layabouts in the streets. Jarx and I inspected the homes throughout the city, finding an odd sight. It appeared the entire population had seemingly stood up from their freshly cooked meals and vanished. No signs of struggle, no hastily made egress.

The captain thought it wise to investigate the upstairs on his own, when out of the corner of my I noticed two more halflings in the road. Drawing my blade and offering a quick battle hymn to the Archpaladin, I entered the streets again with Gaius, Duryn, and Xarthas at my back.

The two creatures were entered in to my creature codex (See section: Demihuman, Subcategory: Halflings of Note and Legend): "Isaac & Isaiah – Halfling twins rounded top hats of modern fashion and a large blue and white striped scarf that entwines both. According to Duryn, there is a common folk legend has it that the duo stole from the Prince of Shadows and were cursed with immortality until they traded off every piece of treasure they stole from him.

The suspicious duo had on their possession a caged human head, it’s neck ending in a golden collar. Upon further inspection, under the hair was covering a small set of feathered wings on each side of the cranium. The halflings seemed unconcerned with my magic rune of defense. On the other hand, they traded the gilded head to the drow for his gloves made from the leather of my former pack mule. He claimed they were magical eel skinned glove of note. While the dark elf was sorely in need of a pommel smash to his angular nose, I trusted these charlatans in the scarf less, so I let the transaction go uninterrupted.

Entering the Xarthas see an image of the town square with people packed within it. The people are summoned or teleported away by a green-blue light, leaving their clothes behind. After the vision, the severed head in the cage awakens.

After Isaac and Isiah departed, I took possession of the head. No doubt the Ibis would be after such a relic. To my surprise, the head awakens and identifies itself as Sham. He states he has been in the cage since “The Fall”. Sham admits he had been sleeping for the majority of the past 300 years and that his body was eaten away by the cannibal halflings located in the city. Those barbaric creatures have no respect for even the dead…

Xarthas asks him about “The Enchanters”, which Sham has a passing knowledge about. He claims his name was “Iversham” and that he could have possibly been a shipwright. He becomes offended by the fact that he was bartered off for donkey-leather gloves. I cannot argue with that reasoning. Eventually Gaius and Sham are enter a trade, if Gaius can build him a body, Sham will build our band a ship.

Once again the transactions my strange companions make leave me baffled, but clearly they know what they are doing. It is this diversity that reassures my faith in myself for making the decision to leave the Ibis. The narrow mindedness of the Ibis will eventually be their downfall, and no amount of relics of old can stem the tide of ideas and innovations that can be gained by the joining of creatures of different backgrounds. Perhaps we shall still leave out the halflings though…vile demihumans they are.

Sham explains that there is a castle to explore in the center of the city, but that our group will need to get their hands on one of the keys necessary to enter it. After hours of looking around, we realize that the city “resets” itself every few hours. All items in the city reset. Jarx seems upset at this tidbit more so than the rest of us, I do not understand why. Even further, we begin to be made aware of the fact that we have not needed to eat, drink, or sleep since we entered the city.

Eventually our search proves to be unfruitful, and we make our way back to the Sea Bitch and to town. I explain to the group that Sham should be kept secret from the two Patricians, as I am unsure of how far the sinister grasp of the Ibis reaches. If they get their hands on the knowledge we possess of the city, or even worse, Sham himself, there is no telling how their great their power will grow.

We make our way to the tavern and sit down with Patricians Kelrium and Quantios to discuss our findings. Sham, and even Xarthas to a point, keep their silence with the important details. I am pleasantly surprised the dwarf keeps his silence. I must thank him for his discretion at a later date. Jarx extracts from the duo the fact that they called this “Hunt” on their own with no actual authority. They offer to us the fact that there is another key that could possibly get us further in the city that they could allow us to “borrow”.

While I normally abhor theft…the key is in the possession of the Ibis. I hate the “lesser of two evils” game, but any action that prevents them from getting their hands on Sham or the city itself must be taken. We agree on terms. Gaius reminds them via his recording technology (I must bring study this further, fascinating) that the Patricians owe us the finder’s fee they reminded us about before we left. Furthermore Jarx gets the two clerks to pay for our bar tab, teaches them right to not respect the chain of command.

A hidden city, a curious sentient head, and a blow to the Ibis. Not a bad past few weeks.

And Questing We Shall Go!

The Sea Bitch was a fine ship, if a distracting one. I spent much of the last two days in my cabin, training my new body, avoiding the shirtless Elven men who traipsed about. There seemed to be far more of them than could possibly be needed to form a practical and functional crew. Most of them did not seem to know if there was anything they should be doing, or what it might be. Their eyes were hollow, screaming silently, praying for death. But it was not my job to give it to them.

Captain Ahab was an amiable sort, but attempts to bond with him over tales of adventure were received lukewarm. His motivations seemed largely materialistic, and the story I thought he’d appreciate the most I think was taken wrongly as a moralistic suggestion. It was the story of Shastor Arborshate, an Elven rogue and pirate captain who, by the end of his extremely reckless career, had only one of just about every body part that normally comes in pairs. He began as a selfish thief and merciless killer, but by my guidance he learned the error of his ways, and became instead a freedom fighter who warred with slave lords and redistributed wealth to the poor. He was immensely successful, but retired after losing his other leg, afterward going by the name Stumpy and breeding ferrets for fun and profit. He did always love ferrets. Smelly things. Never developed a taste for them.

Anyway, after a little over two days he dropped anchor and told us we had gone as far as he would take us, and the remainder of our journey to the Nereid Gate would be made by longboats. We divided ourselves into two such vessels and proceeded onward. As we rowed toward the gate, we encountered orbs of water floating lazily above the surface of the sea. The clockwork man Gaius approached one first, successfully activating a spell that caused him to experience visions of tumultuous events. A fish fell from within the orb, swimming away into the deep, and Gaius went silent for several moments. When his senses returned he said what looked like a Dwarven King and an entourage of soldiers in strange armor were barricaded in a room, desperately trying to protect innocents from the incursion of an unseen threat. It was not clear to him whether this was a scene from the past, an event occurring in the present, or a projection of the future. The orb then began to speak in a booming voice, though it had been pre-programmed by someone from na order of mages called Enchanters, which I did not recognize, and it was not able to answer most of our questions aside from telling us which direction we should go.

When we encountered a second such orb I attempted a similar interaction, applying my vast knowledge of peculiar objects. Orbs are always tricky and deceptive, I recalled, unlike spheres, which are honorable and can be trusted. Further visions of the Dwarve’s plight came to me, but I was unable to sort them out any better than Gaius. I assumed I too had met success, but apparently I tripped some sort of magical trap. The air turned suddenly cold, and from the icy waters foul undead creatures of the sea rose to the surface and assaulted us in our boats, including several giant sea turtles with razor sharp beaks, and a monstrous Mer-Mantis.

Mer-Mantis. We meet again, my ancient foe.

We dispatched the zombified beasts, but only after our longboats were severely damaged. Though we were not eager to return them to Captain Ahab in this condition they were still seaworthy, and so we rowed on. Before long we reached what was apparently Nereid’s Gate. And a fine gate it was, with a giant lock to go with our giant key. But what was behind it was most disturbing, a massive hole in the sea emptying into unknown depths below. It seemed we would not need to worry about returning the longboats.

The sea-hole emptied into a large, sewer-like tunnel that stretched on for what seemed like miles. We followed it for some time before reaching a crossroad, at which appeared to be a vacant camp, of sorts. Among the oddities and refuse we found child-sized bones, which after closer inspection we realized belonged to Halflings. They were picked clean by hungry fingers and teeth. No sooner did this revelation come upon us than a voice emanated from the darkness. I recognized the language as that of Halflings, but the dialect was strange. It made threatening remarks from the shadows, and I thought I could hear the sound of saliva splattering softly against the cold wet floor as he spoke. I began to question it in formal Halfling, but got little but hungry gibberish. As we spoke, dozens of bright pairs of eyes began to blink from the shadows. We were surrounded by cannibal Halflings. They must have been trapped down here some time ago.

The others questioned where I had learned the Halfling tongue, especially Master Greystone, who seemed uncomfortable with my effort to parley in a language he could not understand. I briefly explained in Common that I had been taught by the heroic Halfling adventurer, Xyrrath Littleknight. But though he had not heard of Lady Littleknight, we had little time. I attempted to impress our capabilities upon the ravenous representative of the many hungry eyes now fixed upon us, making it clear that leaving us in peace was their best option if they wished to go on with their miserable existence in these dank waterways. The savages did not seem to recognize the tale of Xyrrath Littleknight when I mentioned my relationship with her, which I found odd, for her deeds were a source of pride to many generations of Halflings across many lands. The time she rode the Great Wyrm of Tarzlakk into the heart of a storm and survived with most of her toes and a feast of roast dragon meat, enough for the kingdom to eat for a month, is legend. However, I may have only made the cannibals more hungry. A miscalculation.

Greystone and the Halfling proxy were both on the verge of losing their patience when a deep rumbling began to slowly grow from behind us. The Halflings disappeared, and we turned to see a wall of rushing water swiftly filling the tunnels.

Time to run!

Adventure Log
Session 3 (11-04-2015)

Emerald Eagle,

Bureaucrats riding dragons, giant crystal monsters, and having to sleep in trees like some light-skinned fey-princess? Not exactly how I saw this job going. I of course trust your judgement in these assignments, but I do want to voice my disdain.
The first phase of the mission was a success, as we recovered the key to the Neriad Gate. The next stop is to get there.

More disdain.

The only available ship is owned by that damned dwarf Ahab Seabristle, “One Eye”. If you can recall, he’s the elf-boy crazed dwarven pirate with a penchant for the flamboyant. He is a fine captain at least, and I’m sure the Sea Bitch (not kidding) will get us to the gate with haste. Also, he seems happy to see me, and my shirt is still on, so its going better than last time I was on board. Hopefully, I don’t have to remove the other eye. At least his nickname makes sense now.

I will continue working for the mayor until instructed otherwise.

~The White Raven

A New Horizon!
And Floating Islands of Sky Pirate Inspiration!

Captains Log15 Planting, 236 AE – The Forest Somewhere, Nohawin

Though the salty sea air be afar, the earthy scent of the forest dew is a pleasant enough replacement. I have awoken once again to a familiar predicament – being far afoot from where I awoke yesterday.

I must observe that being on the run is almost more exciting than I imagined. I’m almost glad the heist of the royal jewel was a botch back in Alphon, for there’s no way the Empress could forget me now. Ahhhh, I can still picture her lush red locks, scintillating eyes, and… ample bosom as she imprisoned my crew and compounded my ship. I barely escaped with my life!

That sly minx, she tried to hide it, but under her rageful facade I could see the twinkle in her eye – she’s toying with my emotions. It’s all a big flirt to her! But if she wants to play it the hard way she’ll learn I’m more than up for the challenge. Even if I had stolen the jewel it would be nothing compared to what she hath stolen: my heart!

And so I have arrived on Nohawin to recover my losses and gather riches and allies in the hopes to one day return and regain her love (and my ship). In fact I’ve already found some warriors that will make for a capable crew! They’re a ragtag lot but they show promise. They’ve got chutzpah, pizzazz, in a word IT. They’ve got IT, and IT is what they’ve got!

There’s Xarthus – one hell of a tough dwarf. Hard to understand sometimes but certainly can take a hit. Hell, I’ve seen him get punched in the face without so much as realizing it – with his own fist no less!

Gaius the machine man – he’s one to watch out for. Who knows how his mind works! And always a trick up his sleeve. So smart he’s dangerous, but danger is one of my middle names.

Duryn, the sneaky bastard. Would’ve fit right in with the boys on the Kraken. Heard he’ll slit you’re throat for a nickle, but that would be bad business of course. Murder’s worth at least 100 gold a head these days.

And of course Grant Greystone, my business partner. The rare combination of street smarts and trade savvy in one man. And its always smart to have someone around who can put in a good word or two with the gods…

So now to our current predicament. The good lords of Anchor’s Purchase, the quaint little harbor I be laying low within, did send out a call to all able bodies in town to join in a hunt or whats its – some Imperial tradition they’ve a mind to start up again. But more importantly they were promising treasure to the men who could return to them a key.

This was no simple task however, as we soon learned, through the many contacts of my well-connected allies, that we’d have to journey through a damned portal to a bloody floating crystal prison island to get. Yes sir or madam, this was shapin’ up to be a grand adventure right from the start. The old sky pirate within me was truly inspired.

The Island was no walk in the park mind you. After a death-defying battle with crystal-infected half-men, we wrestled the key out from within a magic orb. But at that, the whole island began to crumble! Swinging from magic chains, hopping from cracked earth to falling boulders, riding on giant worms, etc… We made our escape as we plummeted earthward. Somehow we survived the epic crash landing (one of the epic-est crash landings I’ve experienced to date in fact) to find ourselves stranded in an inland forest.

And so I smell the morning dew, with visions of a ruby-haired maiden in my mind, ready for another day of adventure!

Adventure Log
Session One

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