Thug Muggers in the Savertenls 6/23/24
(that’s Thug Muggers in the Sewers-caves-sewers-and-tunnels)
Table Talk:
Since we’ll be resting soon and the players will have a chance to do rest activities, i let everyone know that just like Zaanth’s note, the Soul Contract they found can also be deciphered if they want. The outer ring can already be read (it was in english before but i changed the font in the picture to be less stylized and easier to read). Each ring of it, plus the middle vertical line and the bottom, are going to take 1 Rest action to translate.
We left off last time with Bostra asking what happened, and we’re gonna jump in here just AFTER the Thug Muggers have filled him in, for one very simple reason. Nothing kills player immersion like recapping what they just did, and nothing gives me writer's block like summarizing a summary i already summarized.
After a few more sentences, the Bard presents us with acurious glimpse of the mystic dance of the Druids.
Driud awyrdwyth,~amnwyth, amniver, Drudion a Beirddion A vawl neb drasron.
"Rapidly moving, in the course of the sky, in, circles, " in uneven numbers, Druids and Bards unite, in celebrating the leader."
—Edward Davies, “The Mythology and Rites of the British Druids” (1809)
🛡️💤🎲🗡️📿✨🌿Chapter 19: Settling Dust (cont.)
🛡️💤🎲🗡️📿✨🌿Chapter 19: Settling Dust (cont.)
“Hmmm… I see.” Bostra scratches his chin.
We’re back in the sewers, and back in this cramped T intersection room. Behind us is the hidden door back to the now-collapsed Poison Manufactory and next to it is a well where we can see peach flavored evening sunlight. Ahead to the left is the sealed cave door to the Roper chambers going back to where we were before, and ahead to the right is another caved door that someone left cracked open – presumably going into some caves, but no one has investigated it.
Except for Bostra, everyone here is dirty. The little water-dip-sponge-bath helped, in fact it helped a great deal, but there are still lots of little crevices like our elbow pits and finger crotches which still have sticky witch-leavings and/or bloody eyeball juice in them – after all, Rae did punch though an eyeball the size of her head and that doesn’t just rinse off. tZulèe is also covered in a film of dust, but like a donkey having a dirt bath, it seems to be enjoying the experience.
We’re about to be discussing options, and making plans – but, reader, just bear in mind that this whole time, Cypress is twitching like an eighties ‘junk addict’ just completely desperate to sit down for a cuppa of tea.
After a short time where we find out that Bostra does not have a Potion of Restoration to help Ari, he lays out our options for resting. “You all look pretty roughed up after all that, so let me lay out things as I see them.” He strikes a match off of tZulèe’s back, lighting his cigar, then shakes it out and tosses it to the grinning gargoyle’s open mouth. “Firstly, we could just lay up here.” He looks around, “It’s cramped (so the rest might not be as good), but doable. Secondly, we could go back to the previous section of sewers, to one of the bigger rooms and lay out there; that’d be much more comfortable but we’ll have to do more to set a watch. Thricely, we could also go back to the Thug encampment we found before. We know that’s a decent spot to rest, but we’ll have to set a small watch in case anyone comes there looking for Thugs.” He breathes a long puff up to the ceiling, “Or quarterly – the idea I barely even want to mention out loud – we could take this well up to the city. Though to me that feels very much like going backwards.”
Sorin gives a sheepish smile. “Well, you know the expression Bostra, sometimes you have to go backwards to go forwards.”
Bostra sighs, “Funny you should say that. I have no problems with going backwards to go forwards but that means taking one step back and two steps forward, not two steps back and only one forward. Everytime this party goes to the surface, you treat it like, well, a party. Can you honestly say that if you go up there, you’ll spend one hour finding beds, then ten resting, and one coming back? Or will you see it as an excuse to shop for this, and check on that, and be back here in three days?”
Suitably chastened, the team is discussing the first three options, when Bostra offers another idea, “We can also do like they do at the trendy buffet banquets – what they call a ‘mix and match’. We could nap here long enough to feel a bit better and get some energy back (Short rest to relieve Exhaustion), then move on to another spot to really bed down (Long Rest).”
After some back and forth we finally come to the conclusion that resting in the Thug camp is the best way forward – er… technically backwards, but less backwards to go forwards after going backways… you get it.
“We’ll be going back by Devin's mark here,” Ari points at the map, “So we can offload some of this stuff and I can ask about medicine. Then in the morning we can go up to Krubos’s lake and check on things there before we go on further.”
Rae smiles and puts a hand on Ari’s back. “And hey, maybe Devin can just cast the spell himself and cure you outright.”
“Hmm…” Bostra carefully cuts the end off his cigar with a dagger and tucks the end in his ear. “...never known him to do any direct magic himself. Not where anyone can see him anyways. It’s a good bet he’ll sell you something, but directly healing someone… I’ve never heard of the man doing it.”
As we prepare to walk out the door, back into the Roper caves, everyone takes a moment and apologizes to Bostra, each giving their own version of ‘Sorry we’re so bad at this and you got stuck with us’. He just smiles reassuringly, “Nah, I’ve seen worse. Trained worse too.”
“I have so much respect for that man,” Sorin mumbles as he turns away.
“Pfft. Simp!” Air scoffs.
“Only for you, my queen, I wou-”
“Gross.” Ari hikes her bag and walks out after Bostra.
“-leton. Simp-leton. That’s what she means.” Rae whispers as she passes Sorin, then waving to Ari, “Hey wait up, don’t leave me back here with him.”
After crossing back through the caves, everyone gathers round Devin’s mark and Cypress pushes in a copper coin.
This time, Devin arrives in a swirl of icy snow that chills us to the bone.
We see his silhouette in the sleet first, with some sort of large box on his back, when the snow clears we see Devin is wearing a thick fur lined parka with 3 arms and 2 hoods. He sets his load down, and we hear goat bleating deep inside the massive armoire, and for just a second it sounds almost like a voice.
Devin grins and shakes like a dog, both heads rotating as the wave travels down his long necks, over his body, out all three arms, and eventually down the length of both tails. “Thug muggers!” One head says in a cheery voice,” and the other continues, “Good to see you!” “Even if it does feel a bit warm this time of latitude!” the first head mutters as the second head pushes on, “What can I do for you?”
Rae is first, selling the one sixth Roper shell (50g), the Roper teeth (88g), the Roper tendril (3g), and the Wearboar tusks (he will only accept both as a pair for 11g). When she asks about the Wearrat claws, Devin comments “I'm surprised you’re not adding those to your infamous staff.” Prompting a moment of table top discussion about future add-ons to slowly build a legendary staff for Rae – she does sell half of them for 40g. Devin will have to get back to us with the price on the ambers with things inside – because Kai came up with the ‘things inside’ bit and felt it was important enough to write it down, but now i can’t remember why… and to be honest, it legitimately might just be because i was rereading Michael Creighton’s “Jurassic Park” at the time.
When Cypress steps up to Devin, the lizardman winks, “Why, Cypress, so much more eager to see me than usual.”
In a fake affronted tone, the little cleric puts a hand on his chest, “How rude!”
“Ah, I do apologize, good sire.” Both heads say in unison, and then, as only a two headed man can, Devin gives a double wink at Cypress with both outside eyes.
Okay, Nymbus, roll a D6.
3.
Roll 3 D6.
8.
Eight of the poison bottles remain intact and Cypress sells them for 10 Gold each while Sorin protests, “Come on guys, we could totally use all that poison for good!”
Ari is last, selling off the works of art she found. The first (25g) is a Naked Bullywog in a bath with bubbles covering her… frogly bits? The second (20g) is a… an exact copy of a cool piece of art Sarah has on her shelves – it’s coincidence, i had it written down before – no you can’t see my notes! The third (30g) is a stylized Blueprint diagra-
Ashley, jumping in: “Wait can Sorin see it before she sells it!?”
Sarah: “Weren’t these the paintings that you gave us instead of gold just to, like, change it up a bit?”
Yes and now i’m straining trying to make more narrative about them. It’s exhausting. The diagram is in High-Dwarven-Aramaic or something. You can’t read it.
- the fourth (25g) and fifth (25g) are a set. The paintings are of two identical twins. In one the woman is sighing while using a rag to clean a window; and in the other, her twin is in the exact same pose – but shouting a word of power and moving her arm to cast a spell of green fire.
“Anything else to sell?” Devin’s head looks around, then turns at a sound from the wardrobe and kicks it. “Well then please excuse me. I’ll sell to you in a moment, but please ignore me while I'm selling to you. I'm afraid I have to work on some difficult calculations.” Then that head and hand tilt up towards the ceiling as he mutters to himself and starts counting on his claws. The other head rotates down in front of us with a charming smile, “Ignore me while I’m working on that. I’m still here. What can I sell you today?”
As Ari steps forward, Devin bows in the traditional fashion of the Valros Court of Castle Agate, in the walls of Avernus with his hand behind his back, thrusting out his hips and chest to arch his back, then swinging his tail out to the right before turning his head left in a bow (all with the other head looking off and counting). “Zavari, What is it that you're so desperate for today?”
Ari is taken aback, “What makes you think I'm so desperate?”
Devin’s tongue dangles in a long curve then flicks up and back into his mouth. “Because you’re shaking, and pale, and eager, my dear.”
Ari sighs. “Okay yes. I need a Potion of Restoration. I got the Gas Spore fungus disease fever, or whatever you call it.”
“I did have a hunch.” Devin says, reaching out and plucking a small mushroom bud off her shoulder before crushing it over a pouch.
Okay, Brooke, give me a Luck roll. Something bad happens with a 1, if it’s below 4 he doesn’t have it, over 10 he has something, over 15 he has something better, and 20 he has something amazing for you.
“You’re in luck I just … ‘acquired’ a Lesser Restoration Potion a few hours ago and haven’t had time to shelve it yet.”
Ari pays him 15 gold and tries hard not to just chug it instantly in front of him.
“Anyone else?”
No one steps up.
“Cypress, I have come across a teapot I rather think you’d like.”
The halfling steps forward, “You have my full attention.”
One of Devin's tails curls around the knob of the wardrobe and opens it. Without looking he reaches a hand back into it, rooting around for something. He finds it then pauses when we hear the goat bleating again, did it speak? His head turns on its long neck and shouts into the cabinet, then faces us with a charming grin, “Ah yes, here it is.”
Hanging by its handle from Devin’s claw, is a tall cylindrical teapot like a classic Stanley Thermos. At the base is a cast iron chamber with slits and holes and running up and down the sides are virus small pipes like the fingering of an oboe leading to small caps with little lids.
I need to make a card for this but this is a homebrew item for Cypress to be able to make some very basic potions. Essentially, he’ll be able to find/buy herbal teas (healing tea, sleeping tea, paralysis resistance tea) and brew them up into limited potions.
Everyone pools their money together (250g) to buy Cypress this amazing teapot.
After we dismiss him, Devin walks over to Bostra. He hands him an envelope, but we can’t hear what they say as the goat inside the wardrobe seems to be shouting for someone, maybe “Beater”, or “Skeeter?”. ”Peter”? When Sorin reaches to touch the door to the wardrobe, Devin’s tail swats his hand and we turn to see both of Devin’s heads talking with Boatra as he gives the vendor some coins.
Then Devin slinks underneath the armoire and heaves the whole thing up onto his back. The was-snow-now-water puddles around our feet start to freeze as the blizzard returns with Devin walking away into the snow flurry, until it slowly dies out. Devin and his prize disappear into the snow as the Wall fades back into existence.
Ari uncorks the potion and is about to chug it, when Bostra’s hand pulls it back down. “Just some friendly advice here, Ari, but I’d wait until you have a full stomach and are about to pass out anyways.”
With that we crawl into the Thug encampment and set up for a very Long Rest.
It’s late at night in the city now.
That special hour of darkness where you know that the sun is long gone, and if your soul is truly gracious or truly foul, you’re not sure that it will ever come back.
Captain Gaibon of the Nibiru Constabulary leans his head against the damp iron bars of a cell. “Why’d you do it?” He asks the shape in the darkness, “I don’t care about the how right now, we’ll sort that out later. I’m sure that someone clever in the university will figure it out. But I need to know.” He asks again, “Why’d you do it?”
There’s a gruff chuckle in the darkness. “You already know.”
“I don’t. I don’t know why.” He grips the pitted iron bars, “Because I signed your hiring docket. I saw you cry taking the oath. The Tyr clerics said you were devout in the will to serve justice and help those in need.”
On the word ‘justice’ a glob of spit hits Gaibon’s boot. “Don’t use that word at me, you fool!” The man in the cells stands up and the chains at his ankles make a muffled clicking in the hay. “A foolish word for foolish men. ‘Justice’,” he spits again. “You with your courts and laws and rules. There's only one law, only one rule.” The man leans forward, a chained hulking monster in the darkness, “The rule of the lion and the gazelle, the rule of the shark and the chum. Hunter and prey. That’s what we are.” He barks out a laugh, “You stand there in your shiny steel armor and pretend you’re better than me, pfft. You're no more than a monkey with a rock tied to its chest. Just pretending to be a man – no – pretending to be a god. Because men, women, dwarves, elfs, all of us know the truth. It’s hunt or be hunted.” His chains clink against the iron bars, “You think your book of rules and a copper badge makes you rise to the top. No.” He clamps Gaibon’s hands tight around the bars. “It’s power! It’s strength that lets us rise to the top! I did it because I wanted to and I had to. Those silly little shopkeepers were tiny and weak which makes them stupid too! I’m bigger. I’m stronger. I’m tougher. It’s only right that what they had belongs to me! And what’s more they knew it too! That’s why they let me take it when I showed them my strength! They knew it was right!” The man in the cell lets go of Gaibon and goes on about ‘universal truths’ and strengths.
The captain’ hand trails down the bars, scooping up the cold sweat in a few drops that fall when his hand lands at his side, until he wipes away the rust on his dirty pants. He’s heard enough now and he interrupts the tirade.
“You’re wrong.” He hangs his head, “Justice is real.” In the darkness a tear falls past a clenched fist. “And I'll see you hang in its name.” He walks back up the stairs only hesitating once as the man in the cage screams up,
“See! I’m right, you're only doing this because I challenged you!”
And when the feral beast starts laughing, Gaibon steps up the stairs and back, into the light.
Ari, you are naked.
It’s not uncomfortable though, and as your confusion dims it actually feels right – just like the hot fiery wind under your wings.
You are soaring through the air on these unfamiliar yet familiar wings with your tail lashing too and fro, and laughing with careless abandon.
The laugh is joyous but deep – not quite harsh, but maybe gruff.
The wind around you is hot and every bit of scenery is full of oranges, reds and bright burning yellows.
You are flying in the waste lands of the untamed Hells far beyond – or maybe before – the scope of the Avernus you knew.
Beneath you are lakes of boiling lava and sulfur pits.
They send foul smoke high into the sky-less cave ceiling far above you, only to send down molten drips from the sparkling stalactites.
As you fly, a cloud of entangled spirits spots you letting go the chase, a mass of bubbling smokey souls crying in torment, getting closer and closer.
You fly faster but the entangled ghosts of the damned are nipping at your naked heels.
What do you do?
Brooke: “I try to shake them off.”
Sorin. Oh thank god it’s not another void dream.
This one actually feels pretty soothing.
You’re floating, suspended in… not air… water? A bacta tank? You look around and see bubbles.
As the world around you comes into focus around you, you can see that you are hovering or floating above a smooth ground.
It’s not clay or tiles.
Not metal.
It seems like soft perfectly smooth… leather if you really had to place it.
This strange floor is smooth, but with large swells like rolling hills or grass over tree roots.
Gigantic spires made up of the same smooth material emerge from distant points, not built on this smooth earth, but seamless – as if grown from it.
The bubbles drift up and around you.
What do you do?
Ashley: “Hmm, you said there were bubbles, so I look around at those. ”
Cypress, you're walking in the woods (there’s no one around and your lantern is dead).
You’re traveling once again, just like you used to.
You can’t remember where you’re coming from or where you’re going to, but you know that you’re in between.
The trees around you are dark mysterious elms, oaks and pines.
Ancient woods with thick moss covered trucks and deeply interlacing branches.
As you walk on, the trail at your feet fades.
You find yourself now on the grass, now on mossy loam and pine strewn dirt.
Stepping over small tree roots as you go, you notice the light fading.
Not the orange glow of a sunset or the natural graying of clouds.
The ominous slow fading of light as the branch canopy above you grows thicker, blotting out the sun.
What do you do?
Nymbus: “I mean… I guess I keep going.”
Rae…
You didn’t do any homebrew stuff to get spell slots back, so you don’t have any big prophetic dreams.
Sarah, with a fist pump: “Nice.”
So i have a different thing you’ll be doing.
Sarah: “Dang It.”
Roll a D8 (reroll on 1) to determine a Dice size (2-d4, 3-d6, etc).
Sarah: “7.”
So that’s a D12, roll it and reroll any ones – that’ll determine how many story dice you get.
Sarah: “11? Wait, what? Story dice!?”
So take my big bag of narrative dice, and pull out 11, then roll those.
Since you don’t have a big meaningful dream thing, you are going to use those dice to make up your own dream and tell it to us.
Sarah: “Awe man, can’t I just have trauma instead!?”
No. Now hurry up and be creative.
Ari, you do a barrel roll.
Your wings curl around you and you laugh, as only a demon can laugh, a haunting booming painful, torturous glee.
The hot air opens around you as you spiral through it, leaving the malicious spirits behind you in your wake.
You let yourself fall.
At the last second you unfurl your wings and glide up, grabbing onto the side of a dark black spire.
The tower is made of shining black stone, every seam is angled and spiked with gothic drips and points.
With one hand holding on above you, a single foot planted firmly on the rock, and your wings unfurled behind you, you turn to look back.
The cloud of tortured souls is still following.
Its gray tendrils, ghostly claws and talons of long dead sinners reaching out.
The screams and howls of the amorphous faces are getting closer.
What do you do?
Brooke: “Um… I mean I'm not really sure. What can I do, do I have magic? I guess… you know what, I cast Fireball.”
Sorin, you're looking at the bubbles.
You watch one blob of undulating air blorp its way up when the thought occurs.
Where did the bubble come from?
I’m not making bubbles.
Looking down you can see an opening.
The scale of this place is just now hitting you.
This opening is the size of a city gate, big enough to drive a wagon through.
Another bubble the size of a house comes up and wobbles its way between the spires.
Now you can really understand the size of the landscape.
With its spires as thick as at the base of a noble’s mansion, going up and up and up with the bubbles.
What do you do?
Ashley: “I follow the bubbles up.”
Cypress, you walk on.
Deeper and deeper into the closing woods.
At first you were just stepping over little bumps of roots, now you have to brace one hand on the trunks and climb over.
The light is nearly gone.
There is no more dirt on the ground, just mossy bark and roots tangled together into a craggy, nobbly, crusty, cracked floor.
The gaps between the trees are growing tighter.
Now it’s not like hiking in a forest, but spelunking in a cave, the gaps like tiny rock crevices closing in around you.
You turn sideways a squeeze through one such crevice to move forward – but your hand is stuck.
It fit your whole body just a moment ago, but now, it’s too tight.
Your hand is bound at the wrist in the bark like rough iron between the two mighty trees.
What do you do?
Nymbus: “I turn to the tree and say, ‘Uh, let me go, please.’”
Rae…
Sarah actually asked to write her own version of the dream sequence she had (it’s buck wild). So when she has that i’ll append that here.
Ari, you cast the spell.
You cast in the tongue of dying gods.
The sounds of screaming devities shrieking out their last painful gasps.
You speak and fire blooms from your open mouth.
A curling snake of flames wraps around itself in the complex shape of an eldritch glyph, twisted on all sides and dimensions.
You finish and the symbol flies off into the center of the damned souls.
And does nothing.
There’s an explosion – a massive plume – an ever expanding ball of blue and white fire and lightning.
Flames so hot they burn like ice and white hot plasma crackling, stinging, and singing between the gasping dying spirits
Your unholy fire burns away the fading memories of the souls around you.
How do you feel about snuffing out the literal last vestiges of life?
Brooke: “I guess half remorseful? They were trying to bite me.”
Sorin, you are following the bubble.
You rise, floating, in this weightless space, up and up and up.
The towering spires around you begin slowly to taper.
Now you can notice their movement, the slight sways they make with the current of the not-air around them.
You follow the bubble and you can see stars in the vastness above you.
As you reach the tops of the shrinking tapering towers you can tell that the movement is faster up here.
And you can see the stars clearly now, each one is a small point, and suddenly you know something else.
Each one is not a big flaming ball of gas billions of miles away, but a world, a vast plane of existence all separated in the void.
Now, up here at the top, the tips of the spires movement is fast, each one lashing out and swinging wildly all around you.
One of them slams into you and begins to pull you back down.
What do you do?
Ashley: “I cast Gaseous Form”
Cypress, you ask the trees to release you.
The tree does not budge.
You turn to try and pull your hand out.
Your ankle must have slipped.
Your foot is caught between two roots.
In the darkness, these roots seem to squirm over you.
Trying to step back, your other foot lands in a gap and still more roots close over it.
Stretching, reaching out your hand – your only free limb – grasping at the air for anything.
You feel wood.
As a branch catches your hand, and begins to grow around it.
What do you do?
Nymbus, mumbling: “Tolkien ass nerd with your Merry and Pippin Fangorn Forest roots… I Wild Shape into a snake to slither out.”
Rae…
Just, you know, whenever Sarah gets that to me.
Ari, you’re watching the burning souls.
The part of you that knows you’re dreaming is sad and horrified at the destruction of life.
The part of you that is an infernal hellbeast is delighting in your might.
She feels your power surge and coarse through your body in a raucous ecstasy.
The after shock of the explosion rips you from the side of the gothic spire.
You feel the heat of your own burning flames.
Then the cold of the rushing wind.
Finally you feel the extreme heat of the boiling lava as you’re plunged into a lake of fire.
It burns deep into you, cracking your sooty skin apart.
The boiling fire eats into you and you can feel your veins ignite as if all your blood was gasoline, set a blaze inside of you.
You burn.
You take 4 damage as you wake up, still feeling the fires of hell burning their way into you, trying to turn your bones to ash inside your living body.
Sorin, you are casting a spell.
You can feel the spell casting just as usual, but nothing happens.
Then you see the magic; lines of it, being sucked out of you and lighting up dotted pathways of this massive spire pushing you down.
You see those lines going down towards the hole from before.
The whole you’re being pushed to – the mouth of the anemone.
You can feel the crushing forces as the giant tendril smashes you against the encompassable not-air all around you.
It pushes you into the hole.
Suddenly relief.
No more crushing… then you feel yourself expanding.
You’re being sucked apart in a vacuum pulling you on all sides.
The monster leeches everything out of you and your magic bleeds from your ripping tearing skin.
You take 9 damage. Recurving a level one spell slot has minor effects, level two is a d4 damage, level 3 a d6, etc. And since you also tried to use a level 3 spell (half of your total slots) in the consequence dream, that’s 2 d6.
Cypress, you’re wildshaping.
Normally to change shape, you move your body back down the tree of evolution and back up another branch.
This time is different.
Something is going wrong.
Something powerful.
Your body just… changes, melting into its new shape.
Transforming with no tree or river of evolution.
It keeps growing, and growing, and growing, as you are becoming a Colossal Serpent.
All around you is cracking and breaking as the trees holding you back snap and shatter.
Your new body carves a path of destruction through the forest.
But you can finally see the light of the setting sun.
You do not take damage. Roll a D8 to determine a dice size (2-d4, 3-d6, etc). Okay, now roll a D10. That is now the HP of your Holy Symbol you use to cast. Roll a D2 +1 (d2 this time level 2 slots and +1 for prev level 1 slot – this is unlike Sorin’s only because this is a thing that is replaceable). Your holy symbol cracks further taking 3 damage.
Rae…
Whenever… no rush… really…i promise…
You all wake up.
That rest worked a treat. You all feel fine! What a relief.
I mean you have weird dreams, got sucked hollow by a monster like the straw in a milkshake, got crutches by a forest growing through you, and had your literal blood set on fire while you drowned…
But other than that you feel fantastic!
I’m gonna try to speed up the last little bit (mostly just attuning and other mechanical stuff) here, since this one has already gone pretty long.
Once awake, Sorin attunes to his new Arkane Focus – the literal shrunken skull with horns and nails in its eye sockets – (that i gave him because we all kept forgetting spell component stuff). He tries to hide it from everyone, not knowing how they’ll react to, again, the literal shrunken skull with horns and nails in its eye sockets. With a poor stealth roll, there are two problems. First, casting through it will mean holding it from the back of the brain cavity and holding out for spells to come from it – so everyone is going to see eventually. And second, at the end of the attunement, the skull rises in a circle, spiraling around him, and speaking “yes master” before settling in his hands – and everyone sees that.
Here is a summary of the conversation after that:
Ari & Rae, “WTF Sorin?”
Sorin, “Uh… you didn’t see that?”
Rae, “What room did you find that in?”
Sorin, *incoherent stammering*
-Deception and Insight checks-
Rae, “It was the witch’s room huh?”
Sorin, “On her desk.”
Rae, “ON HER DESK!?”
Sorin, “Hey Rae, where’d you get that new armor?”
Ari, “Not the topic.”
Rae, “Yeah, besides, that was on the couch.”
Kai, You mean where she was sitting in disguise when you first came in the room?
Rae at me, “HUSH! You stay out of this.”
-Arcana checks all around-
Kai, The skull said ‘yes master’ so it’s cleared of anything from the Hag. Part of the attuning process is wiping the object of any traces, passwords, cache, or settings from the previous owner.
Nymbus, “So it's safe, it just reflects her personality.”
Kai, Exactly.
Sorin, “So it’s hauntING, but not hauntED.”
Next, Ari attunes to her Circlet of Blasting with nothing interesting happening, and Rae reads her book on gutting monsters for their body parts (i won’t go into the full math this time but this will take 9 rest action slots to finish and she must do at least on every rest).
Now awake with everyone, Cypress forgoes attuning or any other rest actions to Pray to Sheela for guidance over their damaged Holy Symbol. They get a vision of his early years in training for the priesthood (seedhood?, daisyhood?) where he was given a loaner Holy Symbol to begin learning how to cast spells in her name – always returning the loaner to the locked cupboard everyday. Then he gets a vision of an older priest discussing the topic under her holy shrine. “Remember younglings, the Symbol is a Holy reflection of her grace and divine life. It should be cherished and held dear, never taken lightly. But *raising a finger* never held too dear or worshiped. Do not make your Holy Symbols into idols, young seedlings.” (Attachment is not the Jedi way, Anakin). The message from Sheela is clear: find balance. Don’t waste the Holy Symbol (not a game hack), but do not fret over it too much, if it is between your life and it, then save your life and let go of the piece of wood.
Sorin uses his fancy attuning string-chain-thingy-i-forgot-the-name-of to attune to both the Ring of Spell Storing and the Belt of Dwarvenkind. The belt makes him grow an awkward patchy beard, and while we discuss and explain how the ring works (click the link) he learns the spells in the ring are: Create and Destroy Water, Identify, and Detect Magic.
Rae decodes another section of Zaanth’s note to find: “A line cuppinging both "God" symbols saying: Dying, Must be Saved”.
Ari attunes to the witch’s ring discovering the letters R and F are part of a Carisma spell. Then, too late, she thinks about what the Hag would think was charismatic and finds the words “Ring of Farting”. So i’ll be having fun with that.
If the last bit was too rushed and you want a better narrative version of it, please let me know. I was just worried about making this summary too long and not easily readable in one sitting.
See ya next time.
A few pages after this quote.
The uses of necromancy were legion. One conjuration in the Munich handbook, for example, is intended to summon a demon who will impart unsurpassed mastery of all the arts and sciences without any effort on the part of the necromancer. Evidently the author was an ambitious but not particularly diligent scholar. In general, however, the aims of this magic fall into three main categories. First, it is used to affect other people's minds and wills: to drive them mad, to inflame them to love or hatred, to gain their favor, or to constrain them to do or not do some deed. It is not only human beings who can be thus constrained, but spirits and animals as well.
—Richard Kieckhefer, “Magic in the Middle Ages” (Cambridge University Press: 1989)
Table talk:
Everyone decide on a rest of 6 action slots (12 hours) so the break down was:
Cypress on watch, all others asleep.
Bostra on watch, all others asleep.
Bostra on watch, all others asleep.
Bostra on watch, all others asleep.
Sorin attuning (Arcane Focus), Ari attuning (Circlet of Blasting), Rae reading (proficiency book), Cypress and Bostra asleep.
Sorin attuning (Ring of Spell Storing and Dwarven Belt), Ari attuning (witch’s ring), Rae decoding (Zaanth’s note: section E), Cypress praying, Bostra asleep.
The order of the dreams was decided by an initiative roll.
I asked everyone to think and talk on Discord about where they are going next time to give me some stuff to prepare.
Sorin’s Con is now a +4 so Ashley and i need to look up how that boosts his AC and get that sorted before the ambush next week-... I mean…
And lastly, we had an awkward moment about Cypress’s cracked holy symbol.
I think Nymbus is mad at me for hurting his Holy Symbol.
*telling silence…*
Okay, but i’ll ask this, Nymbus, are you okay with it as fair? If it's crossing a line or you feel it’s unfair please tell me. We’ll discuss it and do something else.
Nymbus, pouting: “No… it’s fair… I just don’t like it… meanie.” (i’m paraphrasing here).
But that notion does always stand. If anyone ever thinks something is unfair or goes too far against a value/character trait, PLEASE speak up and let me know. I value you all and i’ll always strive for balance and fairness in the game/world. Above all i want this to be enjoyable, i don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, so please always be honest with me.
