Ken (GM): Happy Canada Day y’all!

WHERE LAST WE LEFT OUR HEROES

REALITY HAD VOMITED OUT A PAIR OF WIZARDS IN YOUR MIDST, ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD HEADING TO THE ELVEN CULTISTS

THE WIZARDS WERE DISORIENTED, PAINED, AND WISHED TO SURRENDER TO YOU



THEN THEY FAINTED

WAT DOOOOOOO?

Gray considers the matter a moment, blood dripping slowly from the oiled and waxed leather of the surcoat he wears above his armor and the grim expression of the towering lupine beastman’s face turning to more frustration before he kneels down, holding a hand before the man’s mouth to check his breathing then lifting him up. “Let’s get them loaded. We can’t leave them here”

Suðri Skornbrekker tries not to look too long at the pool of blood and guts that emptied itself over their cart, and instead takes a closer look at the two wizards, to see what they look like.

Ken (GM): Two men, trim beards, robes of black silk and finely sculpted leather surcoats. Aside from the gore sprayed on them, they seem rather well kept but unassuming.

Bomrek: Did Bomrek actually see the portal, and them hopping out of it? Or did he just see two dudes in Pajamas near some guts?

Ken (GM): the portal hung in the air for quite some time, before the man Holt closed it with his power

Bomrek: “Oi! Elf! If we shackle their hands, will they be able to work that damned foul magic?” Bomrek says, musket loosely shouldered and pointed, at the moment at least, somewhere close to the collapsed wizard.

(wait, Fiss isn’t here, shit. Well, that’s directed to GM-Elf then I ‘spose)

Syviis: “Yes, I think. Assuming they have sorcerous powers as I have observed, we could bind them about the fingers and they could not summon their thaumaturgy”

Gray: “They have asked for refuge. I don’t think that we need fear them working magic soon… ‘Tis as taxing on the body as the use of a greataxe. These men aren’t fit to stand on their own power”

Syviis: “Thats true as well. This one is exhausted for quite a while” she nudges Rolf with her boot, arrow still ready

Suðri Skornbrekker: “Then let us, just in case—though I’m inclined to believe them, those reactions… seemed genuine.”

Bomrek: “Aye, but who’s to say when they’ll catch their second wind, and what they’ll do once they have it?”

Syviis Syviis produces some thin cord from her pouches, and begins a cat’s cradle knot over the man’s hands. “Spirits forbid he needs to piss later…”

Gray: “Fair enough. Bring me some fabric.” He puts the men in the cart, securing them with rope as much to keep them from falling out as to trap them, then puts mittens on their hands. Simple fabric bags bind the fingers together, making spellcasting or being taken seriously impossible. The other man, with the woven strands, looks professionally bound to prevent magic.



Ken (GM): The cart is a bloody mess, literally. A rime of red has slathered the vehicle. The horses look a bit uneasy

Roderick: “I’d rather we focus on getting the blood cleaned up as soon as we can,” The knight says, grimacing at the smell.

Bomrek: “He’s already made a mess of the cart, I’m not overly concerned.” Bomrek says, shifting back into a more relaxed, albeit still alert, stance.

Suðri Skornbrekker grimaces at the thought, but it must be done. He looks for the mask Falkirk gave them, and puts it on to get to work.

Gray nods in agreement with Roderick, turning to that task with a sigh. “There’s water around to fill a bucket at?”

Ken (GM): Plenty of nearby creeks down here in the farmlands, so you’ll only be up half the night :p

Ken (GM) the grime washes away in the lime moonlight, bucketful by bucketful. Much of the waste scrapes away like a quick setting jelly, sticky and foul smelling… though, within a few hours, the cart is clean enough again. The night is clear and muggy, the moon full and green above you.

Bomrek’s main, possibly only real concern would be the cannon honestly. Once that’s clean he hits the hay, “Someone needs to be wide-eyed tomorrow, and I’ve done my share of the job by now.”

Roderick: rolling 3d6 vs SC12 Bad Temper(4+5+3)= 12

Roderick barely manages to set aside his disgust and help with the cleaning.

Gray nods and stretches slowly, the beast tired and glad to find some rest now as he settles in, one last check on their new guests and a thoughtful frown. “Confirmation, then, that Jadeite’s work is evil. We will have to make North with speed after we’ve dealt with the elves… let’s all get what rest we can.”

Suðri Skornbrekker groggily looks over the cannon and whatever powder is on the cart, but decides that he can always check those in the morning when the sun has risen. He rinses himself off and returns to his tent, quickly falling asleep.

P.P. A.: Am I gonna need to Roll for nightmares again or is the night too short for that?

Ken (GM): nah you’re covered for the cycle

P.P. A.: all right

Ken (GM): your dreams aren’t particularly good, but they’re not so bad you can’t rest

Doc: [“Guys I had the most terrible nightmare, a wizard came through a portal of blood”]

Gray hopes the wagon will be fine. He’d tightly covered supplies to protect them from the wet, water-resistant oiled tarps drawn over their powder and food, so that should have protected from rain of gore as well…

Ken (GM) morning rises, warm bright on the dawn. The setting moon casts a weird glow on the horizon as the sun battles it away for the sky; bright red and bright green mingling in the air.

Below in your camp, the heat has already begun. The smell has wormed its way into everything, including your hands. The all too familiar coppery taste of blood

Simon and Rolf are huddled together in the back of the cart, sleeping fitfully, occasionally batting away at whatever unseen things torment their sleep

Eventually, as you putter through camp folding up your tents and striking for the day, the men rouse.

Memory, from her perch above, alerts you all with a WARK WARK “They awake now. Your prisoners no longer sleep”

Gray rises and sighs, packing up their camp swiftly. The man aims to move quickly today and only stops when Memory speaks. He nods to the glossy black bird and walks to the back of the wagon. “Good morning”

Suðri Skornbrekker sloppily and sleep-drunk throws a salute at the bird. He recalls the events of the last night, though the stench that fills his nose makes it easy to remember. Thus, he walks over to the two wizards.

Bomrek tiredly draws one of his pistols and his silver pick from his packs, and tries to shake the sleep from his body while keeping his eyes toward their prisoners.

Syviis busies herself making a nice hot black morning tea for everyone to “get the stink out” but keep an eye on the men and the cart

Rolf Blearily awakes, then with a start sits up and panics a moment, forgetting where he is “The gate! Get through the gate!” he yells to nobody in particular.

He then sees the three of you, and calms a bit Rolf: “Oh, well,….I guess that part is all done then…

“Good morning!” he waves his bound hands, meekly

Suðri Skornbrekker: “Good morning“…mind telling us what this is all about? You said last night you were from the capital, and trying to get away from Jadeite?”



Rolf: “Right! Yes I did leave that thread hanging didn’t I?…” he trails off, as he sees his hands bound end to end in leather cord. And he sees Simon in mittens of cloth too

Bomrek: (Oh, he’s trying to get AWAY from Jadeite or however that’s spelled? Well that’s a different story in my mental narrative then.)

Gray nods his thanks to Syviis as she brews the tea, the dark haired beast standing there, looking to the pair, considering a moment. “You will be bound only until we are more sure of things. Don’t let it bother you for the moment.”

Suðri Skornbrekker: “’tis just a precaution; I hope you’ll understand.”

Rolf Shrugs “Cant fault you for that logic. Hope I dont have to piss soon tho”

Bomrek: ” ‘Yer hands looked cold” Bomrek says rather humorlessly, looking the man over. “What happened to your friend?” he says, looking up at the blood-stained bit of cart.

Rolf: “Right, well, where was I? RIGHT! Jadeite” He speaks the name as if it tastes bad “That madman will lead us to ruin or worse. Last night proving that much as well already! He’s been corrupting the Order from the inside probably further back than even I am aware of. Simon?” he looks over the sleeping form with you, like a puppy strung out from too much running “He’s harmless. He’s just a Node, nothing wrong with him yet. I hope”

Gray: “I don’t know what a Node is. Or what your Order is, in fact. Why has Jadeite been corrupting you? What has he done?”

Suðri Skornbrekker: “So that sort of thing has been happening in the capital too, eh?” Suðri comments. “A ‘Node’?”

Bomrek: “No, not him. You popped in and there was a butcher shop’s worth of refuse along with you. I assumed you lost a man.”

Rolf turns a bit green and belches, choking back a bit, at Bomrek’s mention of the gore from last night “gah, yes! right, that was…oh gods that was horrible.”

(GM To Roderick): Occultism:Pass A Node is a magical individual capable of channeling mana like a battery. They are rare, enough so that the man’s name rings a bell for you now. That is likely Simon Vinter, a nobleman’s son sent to the academy recently, by your recollection

(From Roderick): would Rod know anything else about him?

(GM To Roderick): Offhand, that’s what comes to mind immediately. Wanna drop a skill check?

Roderick: (To GM) rolling 3d6 vs 9 Current Affairs (?)(6+5+4)= 15

(GM To Roderick): Last you heard of Simon, he was off to the standard training at the academy. You cant recall ever encountering him since

Rolf: “I was leaving the Capital with my men; the others in the Order who wanted to escape Jadeite’s work. His influence was everywhere and we wanted nothing of it. I gathered them at the Academy labs, took up at the Center Circle, and opened a gate”





Bomrek turns his head toward Suðri , and says in Dwarvish, “[That damned bird must be drawing all this magic shite to our doorstep].”

Suðri Skornbrekker replies, in Dwarven as well: “[ Idoubt it’s the bird’s doing, that shit seems to be everywhere nowadays.]”

Bomrek turns back to Rolf, “Where did you intend to flee?”

Rolf gets a bit of a thousand yard stare in the retelling; not quite here, or in his story.: “I must have opened gates like that a hundred times. But this time…it was so DARK. Like it was passing through night itself”

“We all leapt in, and then…IT got them”

Bomrek turns to the others, the Elf and Human especially, and says “This smells of..” he glances away into space, thinking.

Rolf: “Took them apart, piece by piece. Pulled off their skin, their eyes. Separated them neatly from themselves. Mixed them all together. Put itself in their places…took their shapes…’

Suðri Skornbrekker: “…was it the first time that you used such a gate since… the calamity?” He pauses, and mumbles to himself: “Come to think of it, didn’t Jadeite go around claiming—” He perks up at the mention of IT though. “…IT? The Darkness, perchance?”

Rolf: “Oh GODS” he screams then, horrified

Bomrek: “You don’t have a word for it, or hell, I don’t know it. Battle-tiredness. He needs some preventative medicine before it gets worse.” Bomrek gingerly walks between everyone, over to his pack, and then returns a few moments later with a medium sized dark glass bottle of dark ale.

Suðri looks rather appalled by the man’s description of the events though, and feels pity for him and his men.

Gray nods grimly to the man, his attention on the traumatized mage. “The walls between worlds are thin, nearly broken now.” He says darkly… then nods, surprised as Bomrek shows kindness.

Bomrek: (What did Jaedeite go around claiming?)

P.P. A.: (that it was him who killed all the bad guys in the south)

Bomrek squints at Rolf, almost angrily but more disturbed than anything, and takes a quick nip before handing the bottle to the man properly. “It’s medicine, for your mind. Drink deep.” he says, as if he’s reading off the instructions to some cure.

Rolf wipes away some tears, and collects himself. He realizes Bomrek is there with a bottle for him, and turns it away “Sorry, not for me. Can’t stand the stuff”

Bomrek: “You’ll be shrieking at shadows and howling at the moon within a month then.” He shoves the bottle into the man’s rough mitten’d grip and leaves it there, all the same

Suðri Skornbrekker looks at Rolf and subtly nods affirmatively to him. If Bomrek is sharing his alcohol, you better appreciate it.

Rolf: “Ah! right. My mistake” He awkwardly lifts the bottle and takes a sputtering sip “Mmmmmmm! Lovely” he manages, unconvincingly

Bomrek: (Bomrek considers it a good cure for PTSD. Or a good preventative, anyway.)

Gray: “What has Jadeite done? What happens in Grayhold?”

Rolf: “Oh what hasn’t he done then, eh? When the King died, he stepped up from the Academy, like we all expected him to, but instead of ensuring a smooth transition making sure the next bearer of the Sword was chosen, he takes it for himself! Proclaims the old laws invalid, and rallies the other nobles to a new court!”

“The land is in complete upheaval! Lords are claiming he’s legitimate, calling for his head, making their little hamlets into little forts! You cant walk the highway without their men stopping you for your clothes on your back, let alone your coin!”

“And Jadeite’s just making it worse! He’s putting all the mages under his wing in charge, granting them titles, revoking lordships, throwing the whole mix into chaos! It’s nearly complete anarchy up there!”

Rolf takes a breath

Suðri Skornbrekker: “Has he been consorting with dark Elves, and rounding up healers to execute them in twisted rituals like Geofferson out here in Oakway?”

Bomrek pulls out his pipe and lights it, puffs it a few times before speaking out the side of his mouth to Suthri “The Elves are behind this.”

Suðri Skornbrekker nods in agreement.

Rolf seems to be inspired by your supposition “By the Makers; that would fit! There’s been …disappearances. People missing that cant be attributed to anything less than political convenience. Mostly those who didn’t tow the party line, like me, but… if he’s putting them to the knife…”

Gray: “Damnation. Good people are dying for opposing this madman and we are weeks away.” He drags a hand though his hair and growls like an animal. Stalking and pacing.

Rolf: “One of the first he ousted from power was the last Oathsworn. He burned the Charter of Wizards in front of us”

Roderick: “Any idea how many favor and how many oppose him?”

Gray: “Oathsworn? I’m unfamilair with the Charter”

Bomrek: “Aye Gray, but I’d rather not take my chances through a shadow-portal like these poor souls.” he says, pulling out his pipe and pointing to the two men with it.



Rolf: “Oh, it is…er WAS the codified laws governing magic in Greyhold. Very nicely put together all those years ago, but it basically outlawed black magics and kept us all from blowing up the world… heh” he laughs weakly “The Oathsworn were the keepers of that Law. “

“The public are torn on the matter, Master Roderick; Jadeite has caused chaos on a mass scale, but he’s inciting a fervor too. There have been hangings, beatings, public stuff. All gristly and I’m sure to the point of making the population fall in line. At best I think we’re at a tipping point. He’s got at least the upper half of the pile of Nobles in line now. And hes making more to suit his needs”

Suðri Skornbrekker strokes his beard. “Has word of our stunt here two days ago reached the capital yet?”

Rolf: His eyes light up when you ask “YES! By the First, that’s the whole reason I sought you out! We heard tell of the fight, the destruction of one of Jadeite’s counselors, and we headed straight for you!”

“If anyone could oppose him, it would be you fellows; The Heroes of The South!”

Gray: “He has something we require, if the Norn is to be trusted, in any case.” Gray speaks thoughtfully as the towering Beastman stands by.

Suðri Skornbrekker: “Let us hope then that it renewed the hope of others, too, then. We hadn’t heard much from the capital, but we were uneasy given Geoffery’s sinister doings here, so we did consider paying a visit some time—but now we know that it is urgent.”

Rolf: “Well, let us help you then!” He beams with a bright smile ” I can open a gate, wherever you’d like to go! “

Bomrek: “The treasure horde of the King would be a good first choice.” Bomrek says, mimicking thoughtfulness and blowing a few sage smoke clouds out and downward.

Roderick: “It may be best that you don’t remember the details, but you should probably still try to realize that your last attempt was… decidedly unpleasant.”

Suðri Skornbrekker looks at him, a bit of a blank expression on his face. “I appreciate your offer, but, uh…”

Gray: “We aim to claim Rocs from the band of vicious elves in the service to the dark. Flying would be safer than that portal of yours.”

Roderick: “Perhaps we could convince the elves to take the portal.”

Suðri Skornbrekker: “Yea. We are on the way to take out some Elven villains who have been stirring up trouble here, though I don’t know how they related to those other Elven villains who worked with Geofferey.”

Rolf looks hurt. Wounded. Sad

Rolf: “I’m sure it was Jadeite’s doing! His corruption spreading through the Academy. The magic could have been tainted by him or his men…”

Roderick sighs deeply. “More likely to have been my doing. I’ve apparently rent countless veils and unleashed all manner of horrors.”

Gray: “That suggest serious care should be taken before using it again. The path you opened is trapped or poisoned by your enemies.”

Rolf: “Madness! Roderick what could YOU have done to sour my travels? It is likely as the Beastman said; they would have trapped the gateway outward, to ensnare interlopers; in my haste to make our escape, I just missed it! That MUST BE it!”

Suðri Skornbrekker looks down to the ground. “…what has Jadeite said about how the war with Gorgoth was ended, and what transpired in the South?”

Rolf: “Well, his words and a gold coin will buy a bottle of wine….but he has said that he wields ‘The Powers Supreme’ now. He alone has harnessed the energies of the universe, and with them he will reshape the world. He turned the land itself against Gorgoth, destroyed the enemies of the Kingdom to a man.”

Gray: “You doubt him with good reason. The power that broke the South was released by the Ansible of Spirits”

Suðri Skornbrekker nods. “…by us,” he admits. “…we didn’t know what we were doing, a—” An idea strikes him. “Hold on—who was it that decided to wage this war upon Gorgoth? Or was it just the incursion by their forces that provoked the response?” He turns to Roderick as well for an answer, assuming him to be knowledgeable about political-stuff.

A look of grim realization falls over Rolf “Lord Jadeite sat on the council of Lords with the King, and brought the proclomation from the King, himself, that day the war was openly declared”

Suðri Skornbrekker: “…and it was a Gorgothian Elf whom we found conspiring with Geofferson…”

Suðri Skornbrekker supports himself on his bardiche as the realization hits him. “Those [loud, angry Dwarven swear cusses]!!”

(To Roderick): The Council of High lords is a tribunal sitting under the King. The Master of the Academy, the Duke of Bandobras, and the Lord of Greyhold sit on that council, assisting in the rule of the Kingdom. Jadeite was in the right place to manipulate things if he needed to

Suðri Skornbrekker: “They’ve been conspiring together all along! Sacrificed the whole fucking army for his scheme!” He takes off his helmet and flings it to the ground. “I’ll rip the bastard’s head off!”



Rolf: [hey fiss!]

P.P. A.: hi fiss

we just plot

Syviis returns from tea-making AFK, caught up and angry-eyed at the revelations

Gray stalks away a short distance and strikes a tree, hitting it hard enough to leave deep claw marks in the trunk as he growls again, teeth flashing before he turns back. “The man’s a master at the game he plays. We should find him so Suðri can rip his head off”

Roderick: “You think he expected us to find and use the Ansible, then?”

Suðri Skornbrekker: “Either we were going to succeed in our mission, and bring him the Ansible—or we would end up doing what we did, thus paving the way for him to take over, what with the army and so many nobles gone.”

Rolf: “Wait, just a moment. You used the Ansible? The Ansible? The ‘Mythic weapon of ultimate destruction that turned the tide against a horde of Beastmen two centuries ago?'” he awkwardly gestures air quotes with bound hands “And it killed everyone?”

“All those soldiers. All those men. All those beastmen…that was you few?”

Roderick: “While also unleashing the forces of Darkness, yes.”

Suðri Skornbrekker: “We were told to retrieve it, had no idea what it was. Found it, and it was a floating tower. On the way back, we were attached by a general of Gorgoth with fucking scores of dragons, so we blindly activated it and fucked up everything.”

Suðri Skornbrekker is too angry to feel really guilty right now, but still feels guilty.

Suðri Skornbrekker: “It tore up the sky and the Darkness killed everything. We only realized what had happened as we marched back past the piles of twister corpses of the allied army—and the Gorgothi army, at least.”

Gray nods in agreement, the dark haired beast wordlessly confirming the explanation then trying to calm himself. He drinks from the tea Syviis prepared.

Syviis: “Since then, we have been endeavoring to open our eyes…and repair what we can. But this revelation…that we were purposely sent in as blind tools…makes the reckoning to come all the more righteous.”

Roderick pauses and thinks for a moment. “The dragons knew where we were. Such a scheme could be too intricate and precise for Jadeite. But perhaps not for IT…”

“Who or what is really pulling these strings?”

Syviis: “Dark forces certainly can exercise their vile will with the help of willing receptacles. How many have we met on this quest that willingly traded all that was good in their lives for this power? I fear this era is like a buffet for IT’s influence.” She spits at the mention of ‘IT‘

Rolf: “By the Five Planes and Spheres; you’re saying Jadeite, and IT, were behind this all? The Ansible, the war, the chaos following. all of it?

Syviis: “I don’t believe every one of our foes was in complete coordination…but it certainly seems possible that the dark forces we’ve faced before are the ones making them work in concert, even without their knowledge.”

Gray: “The Ansible is an artifact of the last Age, unknowable to us now. But.. the rest could be a web of lies and madness crafted by a spider named It, or perhaps Jadeite. In any case.. we have Work to do.”

Suðri Skornbrekker: “And we played right into their hands.” He hangs his head. “I’m so sorry.”

Syviis places a kind hand on Skornbrekker’s shoulder “As did thousands of others. We were just…lucky…enough to survive thus far to regret our part in it.”

Roderick: “I believe it most likely that Jadeite is merely an opportunist and pawn who believes himself the master of forces far beyond him. For now, it is only a theory, but it fits what we know.”

Syviis nods.

Suðri Skornbrekker looks at Syviis and nods, grateful for the support. He picks his helmet back up, and puts it back on. “When we get to Jadeite, I’ll hold off on ripping off his head until he’s given us some answers.”

(From Roderick): how to break with the Fae (and probably piss them off?)

(To Roderick): Youll need to cast off their boons, and then face their wrath



Syviis: “It could be less a concert of evil…and simply those with dark slivers in their souls singing out as they see the coming of the night.”

Roderick: “The plots of those who do not feel the passing of time can be vast indeed. Their knowledge and patience exceed our comprehension. Those who serve the Darkness need not do so knowingly or willingly.”

Roderick glances at the magical sword on his hip. “As with the forces which oppose them.”

Gray nods in agreement with the others, hitching up the horses and considering a moment. “Do we unbind the mage? He seems on the level to me. I can’t smell any lies from him.”

Suðri Skornbrekker: “Yea, I’d say so.”

Bomrek: “You’ll hear no argument from me.” Bomrek waves his hand at the thought, taps his pipe hard on the back of the cart a few times to get the ashes out, and starts packing up.

Syviis nods with a smile bordering on careful optimism

Rolf: “Oh good. I can’t really feel much of my hands right now”

Syviis: “Even now, we meet with those opposing the darkness. It would be a shame to stay divided when we have so many allies.” leans a bit closer to the Mages “And if they are lying, they will promptly learn why we have been so lucky at surviving.”

Rolf: nervous laughter

Syviis smiles in elvish

Gray: “She means she will let me tear our your heart and eat it to steal your power… Come, Memory.” He holds an arm out, letting the raven light on his arm before the towering Shaman goes back to leading the wagon, starting it moving.

Suðri Skornbrekker gathers up the last of his campsite, and shoulders his weapons, ready to move on.

Syviis packs camp in elvish

Syviis: [okay I’ll stop, I promise…]

Ken(GM): hahaha

Ken (GM) Your group heads out then, with the dawn, the muggy wet heat climbing in with you as you march. Rolf dozes in the cart, still exhausted from his flight out of Greyhold. Your horses pick a comfortable pace, and the cart barely jolts on the road ahead.

The highway climbs out of the valley floor to the rise where the Old mill sits; the fort from days past, the massive windmill perched on top. The road that winds along the hills edge and up above you to the walls of the old keep looks dark and foreboding now. Palisades and spiked battlements have been heaped on the approach up to the town. The Silver banner of the kingdom still flies from the walls, but the farmers have abandoned their fields and the citizens are in hiding, inside the relative safety of the city.

Bomrek: Maybe Bomrek’ll come through here just after the conflicts, buy up some land, build a strip mall.

Gray: “What is a node?” He asks curiously… then pauses as he looks to the grim fortress, studying it from the distance, sharp amber eyes focusing as the lupine brute considers the place.

Syviis listens intently to the conversation, still scanning the skies for Roc to be on the ready

Rolf: “A Node is a special mage, one who’s power isn’t in their control of Magic, but in their ability to be a conduit for it. The higher planes find whatever ways into our world as they can, and through spirits they will find Mages. Sometimes the flow is so strong, it comes through like a river. Power, through and through.” HE clasps a hand to his resting comrade “Simon here, is one such Node. Take his hand, mingle auras, and you can treat him like a living wellspring of Mana. A one-man powerstone.”

Syviis: “How is a …. Node…. created? Is Simon still in command of himself or does he also pay a price for this access?”

Rolf: “Oh he’s born with it, miss. Burden or boon, it’s with him for life. Like the color of his hair or his eyes. Part of him forever.

Syviis nods thoughtfully

Roderick: “Simon… Vinter, is it?”

Rolf: “Yes he is Simon Vinter! Do you know him, Sir?” Simon sleeps, restless, unwaking but not resting. Troubled by dark dreams

Roderick: “Little more than the name, I’m afraid.”

Rolf: “AH, well. He is a fan, much as I am as well. Truth be told, any Academy mage not tainted by Jadeite is all right in our books.”

Gray nods and keeps up with the march, considering as he walks beside the wagon. A far cry from riding a flying citadel though the sky, but better then trudging though the dead mud of the magic wasteland in Gorgoth.

Ken(GM) The day drags on, and the farmlands suffer for the season. The heat bakes in the wet, the cloying smell of rotten untended fields climbing up your noses. The spoilage of trodden land. You see here and there, the passage of the Scorned, as they fled the South, made their way to the road, tore it up in their flight. The harvest might be for a loss, if not cared for to the next season. Your cart squeaks along, the wheels bouncing on misplaced stones.

By nightfall, you’ve made good time west, and have passed over two more tributaries of the river. You have seen, off in the distance, the occasional totem sitting stark in a field, watching silently. Small scarecrows. Witch-wards. Little things but ominous. But as the night falls and you think of camp, you come to yet another of the Grim and terrible heaps of animals and flesh.

This one is older, by far. Weeks old. A murder of crows leap out from your way, heavier ravens plucking at the pile of nastiness. Dozens of deer carcasses, cows, horses, even fox and dogs can be seen in the carrion heap. Their bodies are lashed to the trunk of a mighty oak, itself burned to the heartwood, no leaf on it’s branches. Perched atop the gristled heap is a visage of an elk’s horns, with six arms protruding from behind it

Syviis: “This might strengthen and give you vile ones power here…but it will always be simple mortal Will that shall triumph over you again and again, no matter how twisted your visions get.” Syviis makes quick work of the totem-heap as before, lost in prayer and thought as she does. She cuts free a lash of sinew

Gray frowns thoughtfully at the grim totem with it’s antler crown, the brute aiding Syviis in her work

Ken (GM) the heap of rot and savagery is no match for a determined elf and her righteous fury. And the 22 striking strength worth of Beastman helping

Syviis: [Evil totems in your Land? They’re more likely than you think! Call today to learn about Pointy-Ear and Beastly removal services!]

Suðri Skornbrekker: “How do we keep the Rocs out of the battle, that is not have to shoot them, and how do we tame them afterwards?”

Gray: “I don’t know. If we could approch under a canopy of trees or at night we might avoid their advantage in the skies.”

Syviis: “We should assume they know we’re coming already.”

Gray: “Aye”

Syviis: “They will likely pick the battleground and time. But as always, I work well in the trees, and the canopy protection is not a bad idea.”

Gray pours powder on the remains of the totem and lets Bomrek have the honor of setting the slow match to turn it into a pyre as they move on.

Bomrek smiled a toothy smile, and seemed to take a lot of joy in lighting something on fire for the first time in a while. Getting back to your roots is good for the soul.

Rolf looks on at the burning heap as the cart rides away. His eyes are wide. “I had no idea the South had gone rotten so badly. Are there any soldiers left? Anyone opposing the feral things out here?

Gray: “There’s us.”

Rolf: “Ah well, yes, I suppose there is us”

Suðri Skornbrekker: “At least the towns are guarded, though Elven cultists find their way inside anyway.”

Rolf: “Yes, the Elves of the Oroboros are already insinuating themselves in Greyhold. The city is rife with them. Barely clad in more than robes, smeared with paint and stinking of lusty affairs. They’re running a constant orgy in some places. Near constant maybe”

Bomrek: “Guarded? Pffeh. All you’d need to get in would be a hood on chilly day and you’d be able to walk right in. These human guards just don’t compare to the guardsmen back home” Bomrek says ruefully, himself being a former Guardsman.

Syviis sighs, whispering some old wise elvish saying that may have something to do with ‘young elves going to university and getting caught up in the party lifestyle of a frat.’

Suðri Skornbrekker makes a disgusted expression. “We’ll clean up good when we get to Greyhold.”

Gray makes a low sound, the brute thoughtful and nodding at that as he walks. The strange and decadent cult is repulsive and attractive, but mostly it’s dangerous. An awareness that those manic revels are fueled by dark spirits.

Syviis: “That we will, good Dwarves. It seems things have gotten filthy in our absence.” Syviis inwardly figures if SHE had to spend 293 years of the Elvish moon cycle learning patience and tree magic…these dang kids sure the heck ain’t going out partying!!!!

Syviis will spend her retired days on the porch yelling at youngins

Syviis: [“HEY YOU KIDS STAY OUTTA MY LAWN!”]

[(kids being any Elf under 2000 years old)]

Bomrek: “A head on every pike, that’ll put order into the streets.” Bomrek muses idly.

Gray expects Syviis will be a very grumpy elf.. looking pretty much the same she does now. Ageless beauty and immortality means you are only as grumpy and old as you feel

Syviis: [mimics the Galadriel speech from Lord of the Rings…only instead of rings and terrible beauty, all will despair at her arrows deflating kick-balls that cross into her yard]

Syviis: “So.. unless the corrupted elves have taken to hack-and-slash…our maps show a last line of forest before the keep. Shall we make a camp there along the river to avoid the obvious road?”

Gray: “Aye, that plan seems sound and clever”

Syviis: “The clearing around the river will also let us see a bit into the sky in case the Rocs are indeed patrolling.”

Bomrek sighs “Aye, somewhere a ways away from the beaten path. I’d rather wake them up with gunfire, than have them wake me up with a knife to my gut.”

Syviis nods sagely at Bomrek

Ken (GM): [righto, striking from the roadway for the night then]

Ken (GM) evening falls, after a long day of travel. Simon has still not awoken, but his nightmares seem to have passed for the time being. You make camp in a copse of trees, out of the way, covered on all sides from view.

Rolf pitches in where he can. Much like Roderick he seems a bit inept at the foraging and camping side of things. But he surprises you at dinner; he uses some of his Power and reaching into his cloak, (far deeper than you might think anyone could), his hand emerges back out with a satchel of what smells like fine cheeses, fresh fruit and a bottle of port! “Just a little hideaway trick I learned oh so long ago” he smiles, handing out fresh warm bread with gooey ripe stinking cheese on top, carved with a little silver knife

Mo0re Miyazaki Food

Syviis sees the portable storage with delight, imagining a quiver of arrows nearly bottomless

Syviis will view the food to see if it’s touched by any dangerous magics, but otherwise she is hoping to be trusting for now.

(GM To Syviis): Quite clean, magically speaking. The man has a pocket dimension at his disposal, where time and space do not apply. About the size of a compact car inside, but the objects stay fresh in there, outside time



Bomrek: What food do we have otherwise? Hardtack and raw beans? Bomrek doesn’t trust any of this magic shit but if the alternative is more hard tack he’ll take the risk.

rolling 3d6 vs alcoholism (5+2+2)= 9

Suðri Skornbrekker sees if he can find any large branches to break off and to make into simple barricades around their camp, sticking them between trees. 6v13 (Combat Engineering)

Gray can eat just about anything and packed the rations.. at least what he chose was edible, but good is less likely to happen. He helps set up camp, assisting Suðri with the modest fortifications.

Ken(GM): [You have hard tack, some Roc meat leftover from the other day, and whatever has been on the roadside so far]

P.P. A.: guerilla forest dwarves now

Ken(GM): [Suðri and Gray make simple work of taking down some strategic trees, making the area as defensible as possible]



Gray: “Magic food.. interesting. Thank you, Rolf. Will Simon be well? He has slept a very long time”

Roderick: rolling 3d6 vs 12 (Connoisseur [Wine]) (1+3+1) = 5

(To Roderick): Its damn fine wine. Bandobras bottled. Not from your family itself, but you can identify the brewers mark as genuine. It’s quite a vintage bottle too, from about a hundred years ago

Syviis thankfully partakes in the meal, sending a quick nod to the magic-wary dwarves that it seems to lack any bullshittery



P.P. A.: all these rolls

Roderick needs to know if he should be excited or scornful about the wine

Bomrek takes some of the bread, crushes it around some Roc meat, and chars the whole concoction high over the fire until the outside takes on a healthy blacken. “This magic shite better not make me sick, Wizard.”

(Bomrek basically invented Beef Wellington.)

Syviis: “Beef Bomrek-ington”

Suðri Skornbrekker is cautious at first, but trusts Syviis’ judgement. “Thanks for the meal.” He will savor the wine.

Roderick ‘s eyes light up as he examines the bottle. “That is a nice trick, indeed.”



Rolf: “No trick; we raided the stores before leaving. I have a weeks supply of a pompous asses kitchen in here”

Rolf pulls out a skinned hare, stuffed with herb, and begins cooking it very poorly over the fire “How in the OW FUCK do you cook this without burning yourself?”

Syviis laughs, but not unkindly

Gray helps.. maybe

Gray: rolling 3d6 vs 14 Survival to cook a prepared and cleaned rabbit over an open flame(5+2+6)= 13

Gray demonstrates putting the prepared rabbit on a spit to hang above the fire, turned often. “Or you can just put it between hot rocks”

Rolf: “wow! So thats how it’s done!” Rolf looks on with admiration, and childlike awe

Bomrek: Watch, we get Crème de la crème ala edgar’d and he throws us all into the river after we get knocked out.

Gray adds salt to the slowly turning rabbit, the meat developing a salty crust of seared proteins from the moisture drawn to the surface.

Syviis: [next character I play will definitely have a Gordon Ramsay split personality]

Ken(GM) as the green moon rises, your bellies are full and the light simmer of drink has you all relaxed. You’re on the road again, but for a righteous cause. And you know who your enemies are now.

Gray makes a thoughtful sound..” A moon tonight.. wait.. I can see by starlight. So can Syviss. Bomrek and Suðri need no light at all.” He shrugs. “I suppose it’s best we continue traveling by day.”

Rolf tucks in Simon before stretching out in the cart. Your tents nestled between trees on soft earth. The heat of the day dissipates, and cooler clear night rolls in



Ken (GM) Dawn breaks with the scream of a Roc over the sky, winging its way overhead

Gray rises and looks to the Roc, studying the great beast, trying to tell if it’s seen them and if it’s mounted or flying alone.

Suðri Skornbrekker holds his musket close, just in case, as he looks upward and watches the paling sky.

Ken (GM) The mighty bird flies with a rider, a figure carrying a long staff or spear of some kind. The Roc has some quarry, possibly a deer, in it’s mighty claws. The pair fly high above you, the bird flying level with the earth, Westward toward your target in the swamps ahead.

Bomrek grabs his musket in turn, eyes to the sky.

Syviis: “Looks like Breakfast is the theme of the moment…let’s try not to become it.”

Bomrek stares thoughtfully as it flies into the distance. “Perhaps we should just poison all the deer… it will reach our enemies eventually.”

Syviis rolls her eyes at Bomrek’s suggestion.

Gray: “We don’t have time or poison enough for that.. and anyway.. I want those birds alive”

Syviis: “I think our previous methods of iron and lead poisoning are much more direct and effective.”



Simon wakes up, screaming



Simon: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Simon howls like a man insane, his voice a simple venting for his inability to grasp onto reality anymore

Suðri Skornbrekker runs over and forcibly shuts Simon’s mouth!

Gray turns to breakfast. The dark brute taking out the iron pan and putting it over the heat, adding salted meat, a bit of lard, oats and dried peas, then water and salt as Simon screams like the damned. “I hope he wakes soon.”

Ken (GM): [hah!]

Simon struggles against Suthri’s grip, his voice muffled by the armored dwarf. There is plenty of thrashing and wailing, and struggles, but the noise ceases to carry far and wide

(To Suðri Skornbrekker): This is when you notice the boils on his neck, and the writhing tentacles pushing their way out from behind his eye holes

Roderick sighs deeply and takes the screaming as his cue to immediately don his armor. He doubts what remains of the quiet will continue much longer.

Suðri Skornbrekker: “[DWARVEN EXPLETIVE]!”

(To Suðri Skornbrekker): His face is peeling back form the pressure behind it, as something is twisting around under the flesh, like a bag of snakes

Suðri Skornbrekker jumps back from Simon and grabs his bardiche. “Tentacles again!”

Syviis gasps, arrows and bow at the ready “Tentacles? Where!?”

Simon falls from the cart as the dwarf readies his big blade. The man is rolling on the ground, thrashing like a dying animal, whipping his arms and legs like a man possessed “oh gods! The pain! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOOOOOP!”

Roderick curses and simply dons his helmet then, scrambling for his sword

Syviis swallows hard, not daring to think of what a Node might do…then wraps her arms around the screaming man!

(To Syviis): Invoking The Power?

(From Syviis): ZA POWAAAHHH!

Suðri Skornbrekker: “Fight it! Fight it!” Suðri is ready to swing down his weapon upon the poor man, but does not want to while he is fighting still. “There is hope! There is light! You can live! LIVE!”

Gray comes to them then, moving the food off the heat and walking closer, frowning as he gathers power. “I’ll attempt to drive the darkness out, if it will help”

Joush M.: Roll for Exorcism?



Suðri Skornbrekker: “We’ve slain this kind of thing before; it will die. Die not with it, expel it!” Suðri Skornbrekker looks to Gray, nodding hopefully.



Syviis begins to whisper a prayer quickly in elvish



Simon flails, but Syviis grabs him, embraces him, and a storm of white power climbs out of her and crackles in all direction.

Syviis: [HUG OUT THE DEMONS!]

Gray shields his face from the arc-light glare of Syviis’s power unleashed.

IT SPEAKS, THE VOICE TERRIFYING AND FAMILIAR

YOU WILL NOT LOSE ME SO EASILY. YOUR FLESH WILL JOIN, THE WHOLE GREATER STILL

Roderick lowers his visor and holds his sword in a defensive grip, ready to thrust at whatever might appear

Doc: (longsword btw)

Syviis: “I pray this does not stop working, because we already know the backup plan well, and have slain so many already!”

Syviis shivers at the sound of the voice, then redoubles her hugging



Suðri Skornbrekker has likewise lowered the visor.

Simon convulses, and the tentacled thing in his face dissolves, his flesh mangled but his own again. As Syviis’ Holy power dies out, he is left in her arms whole but bleeding

Gray studies the man to see if anything else remains dark within him. “Good work, Syviis.”

Gray: rolling 3d6 vs 14 Perception (various bonuses, Spirit Vision)(5+2+3)= 10

(GM To Gray): His spirit is whole. you can see it in the cracks of his flesh, poking through. He is certainly a wellspring of mana. No signs of tainted darkness left

Syviis rolls to her feet, gasping “EASY!?” She shouts. “You tempt fools with promises of easy power…but now…you’ve chosen to oppose the light itself…IT IS YOU THAT HAS CHOSEN THE DIFFICULT PATH! You will BEG for our mercy…and yet might recieve it! But you WILL leave this place of life!”

Syviis shivers, suddenly realizing she’s likely screaming at nothing. She spits on the ground, walks it off, shaking, muttering something in elvish involving teaching this vile thing proper manners before it is driven from the World.

Syviis: “I have bandages in my pack,” turns to look at Simon finally after a moment’s calming

Suðri Skornbrekker raises his visor again, and applauds. “You’ve saved a life already forsaken. Splendid.”

Gray nods and helps with Simon. The man needs medical attention and it would be best if Gray wasn’t the only one to provide it. He has learned only a little from watching Falkirk.

Roderick removes his helmet and goes to inspect Simon’s wounds

Roderick: rolling 3d6 vs 11 Diagnosis(4+3+1) = 8

Simon’s face is a twisted series of cracks and lacerations, as if something pushed against it from the inside. It’s gonna take magic or a very skilled hand to make that heal right.

Roderick breathes deeply and rests his hands on the lad, focusing his energy

Roderick: rolling 3d6 vs 13 IQ (2+2+4) = 8

Syviis: [nice!]

Doc: (oh I guess it’s -2 because he’s unconscious)

(either way that was going to try to be 3 FP worth of healing)

Simon ‘s face rearranges itself in the flash of magic light

(GM To Doc): please ALSO roll Will-8

Roderick: (To GM) rolling 3d6 vs 5 (2+6+1)= 9

(GM To Doc): nice 😀

Gray: “Good, Roderick. He will appreciate that when he wakes”

(From Roderick): is it because he’s a Node or some other reason?

(To Roderick): Definitely; The wellspring of power inside Simon fed back into you through the healing. He has IMMENSE amounts of power hidden away



Roderick heals the man, but then the white light of his power grows, and amplifies. Rod yells wordlessly in alarm as it pushes out of his control, and a blast of white light explodes in all directions, scattering you all away from Simon’s limp form. An old tree nearby creaks, snaps, and falls over

Suðri Skornbrekker: “What is happening?!”

Syviis watches the blast with renewed curiosity eating away at her anger from before.

(To Syviis): Magic vision The wellspring reveals itself as the burst releases. Simon’s power is immense, and a wild thing. Rod accidentially tapped into it while healing him, and he failed to control it

(To Syviis): And you cant see it unless it’s being tapped into. Neato



Suðri is used to the Darkness fucking things up, but not also light. Then again, it’s magic either way. “Roderick?” Suðri tries to move closer, to see if he needs to pry him away from Simon.



Ken (GM): [SO MUCH MAGIC]



Roderick rubs his head and groans. “Right… he’s a Node. Pushing energy into a wellspring of energy would cause… problems.”

Syviis: “Incredible…just like he said…”

Rolf: “That could have gone SO MUCH WORSE”

Syviis: “Yes.”

Gray nods somberly. “That’s.. humm. Yes, I suppose anything done around a Node would be dangerous. Memory, will the man heal on his own from this point?”

Memory materializes on Gray’s shoulder, cocking her head as usual “He will heal. I should think he might be a tasty heart to feast upon”

Ken (GM): [oh shit, lookit the time]

until next week! I have babies to wrangle to a BBQ!

4 points to each of you! Next week THE ELVEN CULT AND BIRBS

Fiss: Happy Canada Day yo!

Ken (GM): HAPPY CANADA DAY!

P.P. A.: See you, thanks for the great session

Ken (GM): youre welcome!

Gray: Happy Canada day! Thanks for the game

P.P. A.: Lots of PLOT happening, and the usual delightfully gross eldritch horrors

Ken (GM): always fun with you guys!

so gross

