The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

**purepolarpanzer** · 2021-08-30, 06:46 PM (ISO 8601)

In the Orchard As the Fire Grows

Mal searches for an opportunity to get an elvish skull from the funerary tree, but by the time Selissa is far enough away the flames have made it impossible to get close. The group has proven a bit too thorough at arson for him to secure a subject to interrogate with magic.

Outside the Gates of Harumburg

The smiling rogue, with a grin like sewer water through a grate, spits brown liquid, no doubt from some chewing tobacco stored in his cheek. Responding to Mal's question, he holds up three fingers, the middle of which stands at a crooked angle as though it has been broken, possibly more than once. "Three silver buys you my expertise the first day, then two silver each following day. A stunningly low rate for the man who can guide you from Fleet Street to Barder's Walk in under an hour, stopping at all the choice sources of entertainment along the way. You want wimmin? Men? Gambling? Exotic foods? Magic gear? I can find it all for ya, and Ol' Belcher can even get you a discount at half of em." He puts his hands in his pockets and arches his back, puffing out his chest. "You'll find cheaper guides, but half will take your coin and abandon you in Tumbletown and the other half will steer you towards only businesses that give em a kick back! Not me! Man of principle I am!" He spits in the dirt again as if to prove the point.

When Selissa speaks to Ol' Belcher in the code language of thieves and ruffians, he responds without missing a beat. "Shine pipe dreamer, chummer. Runoff chief, deep down and damp. Pals around, posher! Won't wag the wet workers! Pos glint, null cracked, smile at the milk." In the dialect Selissa learned during her formative years of her scoundrel days, this translates roughly to "My boss is the Sewer Master, friend. His business is in scrounging and thieving below the city. I'm connected, friend, but I'm not stupid enough to cheat adventurers. I'm greedy, not crazy, and guiding is easy work."

When Set steps in close to Maus and hints at suspected betrayal, the giant man rolls his eyes. Speaking quietly enough that others would have difficulty hearing, he reassures Set. "My business is to disprove the wild conspiracy theory that Moira has fed you. I've already sworn my oath that if I am wrong and she is right then I will lend my hand to dealing with the scourge she mentioned. It is unwise to thow suspicion at someone whose only interest is helping you, Set of Abydos. Especially a man who owes you his life." Maus accepts the backslap with the rigidity of wood.

Having settled matters, the group (with or without their eager guide) makes their way to the main gate, which hangs open at this time of day, readily accepting people for trade. A trio of bored looking guards wave people in, all of which give your group a second and third glance to take in your arms and armor, but after exchanging lazy looks they wave you all inside as well. Whether they actually think you're no trouble or can't be bothered to interrogate you, they admit you all without incident. Once inside, the group fragments as you all pursue your goals, either singularly or in groups.

A Trip to the Writ and the Raven

For those interested in dropping their things off at the inn Ulu suggests, she proves an able guide to get there. Harumburg is an old city, and the university district is among the oldest, if not the wealthiest. Buildings lean heavily into one another, close enough that a capable athlete or acrobat could probably free run from one top floor to the next through windows and over the small balconies that hang over the streets and alleys. From the look of the populace it seems much of this quarter is made up of students, professors, and other academics, all milling about with books and scrolls under their arms and robes befitting their station, from the most patched and threadbare of the poorer students to flowing affairs of silk with colored stoles to denote honors of some sort. The businesses tend to be small coffee houses and taverns with plenty of outdoor seating on the worn cobbles of the street. This part of the city might be lower middle class, but it carries a sense of pride and dedication, with beds of flowers and well groomed trees growing up from small parks and open benches. The university is small compared to the one Vargath studied at, but it carries the same weight among the local community, if not a bit heavier, and all the local streets seem to lead to it by one way or another.

Ulu moves down these narrow alleys, through a miniature park, over a series of bridges spanning small artificial canals, and finally stops in front of a sizable three story building- one of the largest you've seen in the city. It bears a massive sign over the door bearing a silver raven dabbing at a piece of parchment with a quill. Like many businesses, there are more than a few tables outside, where figures in the finer and more prestigious selection of robes and stoles sit reading, writing, and debating with colleagues over the afternoon meal. Ulu scans the building before sighing through her nose, then presses onward through the open double doors.

The inn is upscale and certainly not cheap. A sign over the bar lists the cost of their services, starting at "Rooms- 2 GP per Night, Breakfast Included", and going only up from there to end with "Suite- Serious Inquiries Only", which has a wooden placard reading "Occupied" next to it. Ulu doesn't bother checking in with the innkeep, immediately crossing the room to the main stairwell and stomping her way up, leaving a wake of gaping, staring, and muttering academics in her wake.

For anyone who wishes a private room, they find them to be immaculately clean, with each one sporting a sizable queen size feather bed, a dresser, a full length mirror, and a solid wooden writing desk bearing a sign reading "All supplies extra- may your writings contribute to the long and storied history of works produced in this humble establishment!" The door is thick and sturdy, with a sizable lock on each one for privacy. For those who do not wish to leave their rooms, either because they are too busy scribbling or prefer solitude, there is a pull rope that is attached to a pulley system, no doubt ending in a bell down below.

Anyone who follows Ulu up to the diplomat's suite on the third floor finds there are two suites on opposite sides of the hall from one another, each one taking up half the top floor. Ulu crests the stairs and heads left, producing a key from a pocket and opening the door, which bares gold inlay and an intricate carving that matches the sign outside. Before she steps through, Ulu turns to face any who followed her this far. "Do not be foolish in my master's presence. You will find them warm and welcoming, but know you are being judged every moment you are under their gaze. Do not dishonor me in their eyes." Stepping through, you all find yourselves in a lavish living area filled with comfortable couches, a sizable central table for private dining, and a number of private rooms of the main one. There are exquisite pieces of art, several full bookshelves, and a silver chandelier that may or may not have come with the room. Laying on an angled couch with a book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other is a tiefling woman with even darker skin than Ulu, odd spiked horns that don't match any local animal any of you are aware of, and a prehensile tail that she uses to turn her page. She is wearing a sensuous red dress woven with cloth of gold and deep crimson rubies that simultaneously covers just enough skin to be proper and bares just enough to be suggestive. When she looks up and spots Ulu, she puts down her book, slips a marker in with her tail, and stands to greet you all, a fierce white grin with sharp looking fangs splitting her features.

"Karibu! Welcome, welcome all! Uluthando, my child, I had feared you had flown too far from the nest and you would never return home! I hope your slave has been taking good care of you!" She pats Ulu on the head, then wraps the paladin in a deep hug. Ulu, with an exasperated look on her face, endures the hug before drawing the same curved dagger that she did upon first seeing Mal. Removing her gauntlet, she draws the edge across her palm until blood wells there, going to one knee and offering the dagger in one hand and the open bloody palm with the other. She begins to utter something in her native tongue, something that sounds rhythmic and well practiced, when the tiefling woman clucks her tongue and wags her finger. "Uluthando! You dishonor me! Your guests cannot understand your words! So rude, girl!" She pushes the dagger and the bloody palm together. "There will be time for your devotional later my child. For now, we celebrate! Come, friends of Uluthando! I will ring the bell and summon food and wine, so that we may be introduced! When people from far flung lands meet, it is customary amongst my tribe to exchange stories, so that we may better know one another! Come, sit, eat, drink, and enjoy yourselves! Any good friends of my Uluthando are good friends of mine!"

Shopping with Vargath and Ignacius

In searching for manacles and magic arms, Vargath ends up at a small shop in a slightly dingy section of the city named "The Hound's Kennel" that is rumored to serve bounty hunters. Upon entering, a loud cry of a bird of prey fills the shop, drawing the single eye of the dwarf proprietor to the door. The sales floor is small, bearing only the most mundane tools of the trade, while three quarters of the shop is behind a sturdy counter. The dwarf, a surly looking grey beard with an eye patch and a wooden leg, points wordlessly to a sign on the counter that reads "Ask. If I have it, I'll fetch it. No bartering." A small falcon flaps from the door frame to a perch on the bar, where it's owner passes it a piece of meat.

Meanwhile, across town, Dr. Madaras enters a small, orderly shop named "Drange, Devany, and Bilver, Scribers and Scribblers" in a well lit and spacious section of town near the university. The shop has huge glass windows to let in plenty of light, lecterns meant to hold books and scrolls for reading and copying, and shelves upon shelves of books, scrolls, and folios containing both magical and mundane texts. While the magical selection seems to favor low power spells and effects, there are a few more expensive works at a premium price.

Spoiler: Items for Sale

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Manacles- 2 gp
Masterwork Manacles with Locked Gauntlets- 50 gp, DC 30 to break free, DC 25 to pick, impossible to pick or unlock while you are wearing them.
+1 Ammunition (Arrows, Bolts, Bullets, Darts)- 25 gp
+2 Ammunition- 50 gp
Potions of Healing- 50 gp
Potions of Greater Healing- 150 gp
Potions of Climbing- 200 gp
Potions of Invisibility- 200 gp

Odric's Vow- 600 gp This unique enchanted flail has the words "I Shalt Not Kill" etched into the handle. Under normal circumstances, it is a normal flail that can never land a killing blow on an opponent. If you attack an enemy who is at 0 hp with the weapon it bounces away harmlessly inches away from their skin. However, if you give an opponent a verbal warning and a chance to surrender as a free action at the end of your turn, the head of the flail grows in size and the weapon's damage becomes 1d10 against the warned target. If they do not surrender, you may repeat the offer in the next round at the end of your turn, and if they again do not cry off the flail begins to glow with amber light and becomes a +1 weapon against them. If the target persists, you may give them one final chance to surrender at the end of your turn. If they do not, the word "Not" disappears from the handle, the weapon grows spikes and becomes capable of killing blows to the offender, and any hits against that foe deal an extra 1d4 points of piercing damage. For this ability to function, the wielder and the target must share a language. If the foe pretends to surrender and then attempts to attack the wielder with any offensive spell or action, the flail immediately moves to stage 3 lethality and the wielder gains advantage on their next attack against the betrayer.

Thrym's Hatchet- 1500 gp This huge sized hand axe is hanging on a massive trophy rack above the fireplace of the Hound's Kennel. When asked about it, the proprietor grunts that it is a trophy from his last mission, to kill a marauding frost giant near Everpeak Lodge. The dwarf is unsure what the axe truly does, as he has never been able to effectively wield it, but a mage told him it was magical, and told him that the runes along the wooden handle read "Thrym's Hatchet" in giantish, something Vargath can confirm. He claims the blade and the runes glows an icy blue when it is snowing outside, and that the iron is always coated in a thin layer of frost, even while hanging over the fire. If probed as to why he would sell such a unique trophy, the owner grunts "Tired of lookin at it, and tired of it takin up so much damn space. Thing took my leg in one blow though."

For Ignacius:

Fractal Ink for scribing spells or scrolls- Priced as Listed
Spell Scrolls (Cantrips)- 10 gp
Scrolls (Level 1)- 70 gp
Scrolls (Level 2)- 140 gp
Scrolls (Level 3)- 350 gp

Marvelous Melda's Musical Book that Really Cooks!- 500 GP When the gnome proprietor is asked about the large pile of tiny books, he is quick to point out that it is not a cookbook, but a book that cooks. When asked to elaborate, he explains that each page contains a drawing and description of a different meal. If you rip out a page and place it in a pan of boiling water, it will magically change into a gourmet meal that serves 6. Each book contains 31 pages, and he promises that each recipe provides a different magical effect to anyone who eats it, like a minor version of the spell "Heroe's Feast". If probed as to why they have so many of these books, he begrudgingly admits that he was cajoled into buying them by Marvelous Melda herself, who did not tell him she was a Wild Mage and that there was no discernible way to know what magical effect would be given by which meal. So, in his own words, "You don't know if your thief is going to suddenly have more spell capacity, or if your bruiser is suddenly going to become talented in speech craft. Also, the music that plays while the transformation takes place is downright annoying."

Eldurn's Mystical Book Lock- 100 gp This item is a leather strap with a sizable lock on it that wraps around a spellbook. Each one comes with a unique matching key. Mundanely, it functions as a book lock, but if your spell book is stolen it has a secret function that only works a single time. If you inset the key into any other lock and turn, when you withdraw the key your spellbook will appear as long as it was located on the same plane of existence. If you use the Book Lock in this way the strap snaps, the lock crumbles, and the magic is expended forever, but in the words of the gnome proprietor "How much would you pay to never worry about your spell book being stolen ever again?"

Selissa in Tumbletown

Selissa has to wait for nearly a half hour in the cramped room before someone else enters, and it is not the woman she expected. Rather, a sallow skinned man smoking a pipe and wearing a monocle enters first. His clothes were once a high class suit, but they are patched and frayed in such a way that they are almost comedic at this point. He has a jutting cleft chin and inky, greasy black hair that is formed into a sizable pompadour. He carries a cruel looking mace on his hip that seems to swallow the light around it, making it look like black wrought iron. Also, the fabric of his suit around his right ankle has been replaced by a deep crimson. He gives Selissa a respectful nod and a sleazy grin before sitting down across from her. There is a moment of tense silence before he speaks up.

"These bozos say you want to meet the boss. Cruel is... cautious... with her meetings nowadays. Too many bad experiences. We need to make sure you're on the up and up before she'll meet with you. So you meet me first. You can call me Darby. I'm the boss' spiritual advisor. Let me clue you in on how this is gonna go. I'll cast a spell to make sure you can't lie. You can walk away now, and if you intend to lie I'd recommend it, cause if you resist the spell, this meeting is over, and every bozo in this neighborhood's new purpose in life is to hunt you down. Then I'm going to ask you a series of questions. If you choose not to answer, this meeting is over, but you can walk away alive. Just don't expect to ever be treated well by a Red Brother ever again. I hear elves live a long time, but we got long memories, you dig? If you agree to all of this, and we like all your answers, you get to meet Conchita Cruel. You'll have to excuse our paranoia, but I assure you, we have our reasons. So, does this arrangement meet with your agreement, or have I come all the way over here for nothin'?" Assuming Selissa answers in the affirmative, he whispers a few words and suddenly the air of the room feels charged somehow, like a lightning storm is on it's way. He proceeds to speak in a level, almost monotone voice, with one hand resting comfortably on his mace and both eyes uncomfortably locked on Selissa's. If Selissa asks him any questions about his questions, he is silent for a moment before repeating himself in the same cold, monotonous tone.

"Have you ever seen a ghoul, ghast, or darakhul?"
"Have you ever fought a ghoul, ghast, or darakhul?"
"Have you ever been captured by a ghoul, ghast, or darakhul?"
"What is your fondest memory?"
"What does human flesh taste like?"
"Have you ever spoken to a ghoul, ghast, or darakhul?"
"Have you ever been to Harumburg's sewers?"
"Who is the Sewer Master?"
"Have you ever been hypnotized?"
"What happened to Jackson Andolino?"
"Are you wearing perfume or cologne?"
"What sound does a person make when they drown in sewer water?"
"If you came across a tortoise in the desert, why would you flip it onto it's back?"

There's a pause, and then one final question.
"If Conchita Cruel walked into this room, would you try to kill her?"

**Spore** · 2021-08-31, 05:46 AM (ISO 8601)

Doctor Ignacius Madaras, Medicus Extravagant!
Gnome Artificer/Transmuter
AC: 18 HP: 21/32
PP: 11 PIv: 17 PIs: 11
Conditions: -
Concentration: -

Ignacius walks in, feigning disinterest in the wares. He walks around, surpressing to show huge interest in any item. The gnome makes a few demonstrative thoughttul humms because finally talking to the shopkeep. I am more interested in tried and true magic for now, my friend. But I would lie if I said the cooking book did not interest me. But to me, five hundred gold for an item that you cannot even tell me what it does is bad. I understand you bought it before fully unraveling its arcane secrets, but I will not pay for your lack of foresight. I will not buy today, but I might come back later. For now, just this, plus a bit of ink, and maybe point me into the direction of a whitesmith to procure powdered silver and iron.

Spoiler

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Expending 120 gold for a scroll of Protection from Evil and Good plus the necessary ink

**Amnestic** · 2021-08-31, 07:20 AM (ISO 8601)

Vargath Hubrecht
Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter
AC: 19 HP: 49/49
PP: 13 PIv: 12 PIs: 10
Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy)
Concentrating: --

The axe is a fine trophy, and one he'd like to rest inside his hands, but the dwarf's price was significant, and his coinbag not nearly close to filled enough to pay for it. At least not yet. "I won't ask you to barter," The half-orc says as he hands over the gold in exchange for the manacles - the cheaper version, in this case. While the stronger version was enticing, he needed to be able to get himself out of them himself, without assistance from the others. He wouldn't have them inconvenienced on his account. "But if you have something dangerous that needs doing in exchange for the axe, the offer is there." He wouldn't press the subject though. An offer, nothing more, nothing less. Work in exchange for the axe was much the same as work in exchange for gold in exchange for the axe, just cutting out the middleman. Scant chance there was any work going that warranted the axe as a reward, but it didn't hurt to offer. Worst case was there wasn't or the dwarf said no, in which case the status quo remained in place.

Spoiler: OOC

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Deducted 6 gold for the manacles (x2) and the room fee.

**Riggdgames** · 2021-08-31, 09:31 PM (ISO 8601)

Set Al-Sayyid
Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
AC: 17 HP: 41/41 THP: 11/11
PP: 12 PIv: 13 PIs: 9
Conditions:
Concentration:

Set deposits his weapons, armor, and pack off to the side near the entryway. He dusts off his robes, conscious of the blood and ichor staining them as he looks around at the gold inlay decorating the door and the beautiful artwork nearby. Regardless, he sheepishly follows Ulu's lead, curious to see what awaits.

After her ritual is halted, Set sneaks a glance at the blood dripping from Ulu's dagger and her palm, but keeps his mouth clamped shut. Wine, food, and stories, preferably in large quantities, would need to be shared before he dared ask. Even so, who was this tiefling who spoke and acted like a mother greeting their child even as Ulu drew her own blood in offering?

"<Marhaban biki>. We are welcomed," Set translates roughly from his native tongue, pulling down his shemagh and bowing his head respectfully. "A generous offer and a custom I would gladly see spread far and wide from your homeland. I happily accept, at least for my part. Set Al-Sayyid of Abydos. It is a pleasure to meet you..."

Set trails off as he struggles to find a suitable title. His default 'Noble One' for those of unknown but obviously higher station seemed ill-fitting in present company without asking. "Forgive me, I am ignorant of your customs and don't know what title might be appropriate. As I'm sure you're aware, Uluthando is as protective of your name as she is of her..." Her slave? "Her friends. If it please you, by what name or title would you be known among us?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Rolling Insight (1d20-1)[11] to see if Set knows whether these topics are likely to offend our host:

-Slavery in Nuguni
-Ulu's ritual
-Relationships (Ulu and her master, Ulu and her slave)

**purepolarpanzer** · 2021-09-01, 09:17 PM (ISO 8601)

Scroll Shopping With Ignacius

The gnome gives an exasperated sigh at Dr. Madaras' dickering, speaking up as he is finalizing the sale of the scroll and ink. "I'd let a copy of the cooking book go for four hundred, but any less and I'm dangerously close to taking a bath on the whole purchase. As for a whitesmith, you can find an alchemist that deals in metal powder and shavings four blocks north of here and across the canal. They should have the components you desire, and packaged in appropriate amounts for spell work and alchemy craft."

Manacle Shopping with Vargath

The one eyed one legged dwarf barks out a quick response to the half-orc's question about trading work for the massive axe. "Big bounties available in Harumburg. Wouldn't recommend taking em on alone, but if you could take down the Sewer Master you could buy my axe easy." He points towards the west wall of his shop. " I keep a bounty board outside. Guard's offerin six thousand gold mountains for his live capture. Half that if you can somehow prove a corpse was runnin the nastiest gang in the Vale."

At the Writ and the Raven

The ink skinned tiefling smiles wide at Set's words and wags a finger at the bronze skinned man in the robes. "My name is Nomcebo, Set of Abydos, but you may call me Nome. I am Uluthando's Umpathi, or handler. Though I am of high rank within our Order, that means little to you all. To most I am a simply a woman of many talents and expensive tastes who loves meeting new people and sharing stories." She steps forward quickly and alarmingly close to Set, planting a kiss on each of his cheeks before he has a chance to respond. "I have heard of this land of distant sands. It's people are said to be noble in demeanor and honest in their dealings, from the lowliest beggar to the First among them. I am sure you have many excellent stories to share, newest friend." She steps away and, true to her word, pulls a chain hanging from the ceiling to summon servants.

**Amnestic** · 2021-09-02, 03:54 AM (ISO 8601)

Vargath Hubrecht
Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter
AC: 19 HP: 49/49
PP: 13 PIv: 12 PIs: 10
Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy)
Concentrating: --

Bounty hunting was...well, it wasn't the worst thing, if you picked and chose. Some bounties, in his experience, would be for crimes, and some would be for "crimes". Still, if they warranted a 6000 gold reward they'd likely done something to earn it. "I will do just that." With a small incline of his head - as polite a thanks as he'll get, he leaves the shop for the noticeboard. Once he's jotted down a few details about each current bounty - name, accused crime, reward and any other pertinent details, he heads back to the inn, to store away his manacles and then find the rest of the group. Hopefully they hadn't fallen too deeply into the lap of luxury with Ulu's master just yet. They didn't exactly have a lot in the way of leads for the supposed vampire infestation, but perhaps Maus' research would turn up something, and if not maybe something would shake loose with the bounties.

**Theophilus** · 2021-09-02, 09:40 AM (ISO 8601)

Mal
Levistus Tiefling Bard 5
AC: 14 HP: 41/41 THP: 7/7
PP: 11 PIv: 13 PIs: 11
Spell Slots: 1st - 1/4 2nd - 1/3 3rd - 1/2
Fey Touched: 1st - 0/1 2nd - 0/1
Masquerade Tattoo: 1st - 1/1
Levistus Legacy: Armor of Agathys - 0/1 Darkness - 0/1
Bardic Inspiration: 0/4
Healer's Kit: 20/20
Mal Conditions:
Mal Concentrating: ---

Diodorus
Ancient Companion: Healer
Companion HP: 30/30
Companion AC: 16
Companion PP: 18 PIv: 12 PIs: 12
Back from the Abyss

The road to town

Maledictus answered Set, "Would you be remiss of bonds deeper than kinship? Would you renounce lifelong ties for emancipation?" His golden eyes studied the man. "Initiation in our community is a sacred privilege, one pursues with deliberation and without hesitation. Scholarship is passion and reason, after all."

At the mention of the names, the tiefling scholar replied, "You traffic with an ambitious Patron. Would you say the Shadowkeeper has a fey or abyssal disposition? The dread rulers of the 'Fell, Unseelie, or Undead are not trifling forces--nor ones whose schemes would end pleasantly for their client's mortal protégés."

The Raven

Prior to entering the Suite, Maledictus activated his Order's veil of necessity, which transformed his fine military uniform into the ornate robes of his Order. Glossy midnight blue acted as a field for the white gold silhouette of an obelisk on his breast. This outlined sigil called to mind a naked blade, a stylus, and a tower. He entered the handler's quarters after Set. His eyes gleamed as Ulu began her obeisance to the tiefling. He bowed low, stating floridly, "A genuine pleasure, Nome. <Your Order has exquisite taste in leadership and refinements>. I slip into our ancestral tongue, but the words bear repeating: Your Order has keen discernment. I should love to exchange with you, Nome. My name is Maledictus, of the Obsidian Tower, but you may call me Mal."

The living statue tastefully approached and stood back and to the right of Maledictus. It bowed formally and addressed Nome, "A privilege indeed to make your acquaintance. You may call me Diodorus, madame Nome."

Mal presented his viol and added, "If I may, I would gift a song from our university. It is meant to revive the body and rouse the soul."

Spoiler: OOC

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Activate tattoo to Disguise Self to appear fresh and dressed in Order's robes.

Arcana checks on Shadowkeeper (14) and Darkest (20).

Spoiler: Mal's Notes

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Spoiler: Cast and Crew

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Set: ~~outcast~~ exiled princeling of Abydos. Two princess sisters (Sisi and Sythpen Al-Sayyid). Romantic connection for Moira?
Selissa: Blighted or reconstructed wood elf? Purported Scout.
Vargath: Afflicted Lycanthrope seeking to suspend his curse. A Bloodwolf?
Mandaras: Rival to Dr. Fixer.
Dr. Fixer: Moira's lieutenant and cultivates relations with the locals of Vale.
Elder Maus: Seeks to kill Moira. Hired mercenaries who betrayed him.
--Healed to his full 9ft height.
--Disbelieves Moira's insights; seeks to end her directly or indirectly.
--Seeks us to verify the truths of Moira's claims--or stop her by any means necessary.
Maulei: Successor to Elder Maus as elder of Dam'ess.
Uluthando Mikoso "Ulu:" Paladin? of Order. From beyond the Vale. Reacts by gripping her dagger and declaring Tieflings are treated differently...Lawful (N/E?) Order? Calls Mal 'Mdala Ohlonishwayo.' Professes to serve no god, but spirits whose reach may be weaker in the Vale than elsewhere.
Nomcebo: Ulu's handler. Ink skinned tiefling with prehensile tail and an obvious allure.
Kagiso: Ulu's slave and carriage driver.

Spoiler: Dream of Leng

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Spoiler: In Full

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Mal has had this dream before. He finds himself in the legendary Library of Leng, an ancient home of virtually all worldly and mystical knowledge that burned when the city it was located in was razed nearly nine hundred years ago, half the world away. Still, in his dreams it still existed, and these dreams always played out the same. Hours of dutiful research, referencing and cross referencing sources from multiple tomes, carefully reconstructing ancient languages, until EUREKA! Some devastating and profound arcane truth became evident to him, and the sense of accomplisment and relief normally carried with him for several hours after waking up, even if he could never actually remember anything he learned. But this time is different. Mal is well versed enough in the arcane and divine arts to know that sometimes dreams carry real meaning. And as he stares down at what he has been working on, he instinctively knows this bears some significance. Where normally he would have arcane formulas and theorems, he sees only "The One Who Stalks Behind" scrawled over and over again in his own hand, though the words are manic and look like they were written in distress. He searches the paper for any further omen, and down at the bottom of the page, in the smallest script he could possibly manage, it says Behind you!. Just as he is about to turn, a claw as strong as iron grips the side of his head, snaps his neck to the side, and ends all feeling in the bard's body. But he can still hear the deep throated growls, along with the wet noises of whatever killed him beginning to eat him alive. But he never gets to see it before the dream ends.

The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. RIGHT BEHIND YOU! The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind.

Spoiler: Bence's Secrets

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Spoiler: Bence's Journal

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...is a backwards plane, so far removed from the Prime Material that it has not seen an angel or the work of a god in a millennia. I hear that far to the west they do not even worship the gods. Proper savages, but I must remain vigilant, as their knowledge of the ways of this world is far more educated than most. But it is ripe for my conquest. While my Master was tasked with corrupting Avendor, my home plane, a bastion of good and law, my chore is simply to tip the rat into the bucket of the Abyss as it prowls the rim looking for cheese. This plane is already so flooded with the energies of the Abyss that demons spontaneously emerge, monsters manifest in the dark, and their weak leaders bargain with forces they would be wiser to repulse. It will be child's play to nudge it the last few inches into anarchy and destruction, mostly due to the efforts of Pale Night herself. For thousands of years she has been grasping and clawing at this realm, dragging it further from the light and closer to her realm day by day, inch by inch, soul by soul. While my home plane was beyond my ability to destroy, this place will be my masterpiece. With my death at the hands of the forces of good, a symphony of destruction will play the anthem to my ascension to demonhood. The Pale Mother has promised me that each death will bring me closer to my true form, and each rebirth will increase my power, just as our pact promised. I can't wait to die. When will the heroes arrive? I've been planting and tending the seed of the idea in the old giant's mind for weeks now. When will it bear fruit? When can my dark rise to power begin? (The rest is a combination of burned and Abyssal that becomes impossible to read)

Dam'ess- Mass Quasit Summoning. Magic Mouth to Levy Commands re: Retrieve Mirror of Leng, Scepter of Rulership, And Aniot's Cube. Disperse to Appropriate Parties Per The Plan. Burn The Cabin.

Harumburg- Sending to Lord of Bone re: Portal to the 113th. (Indecipherable Due to Burns) In Accordance with Their Great Alliance.

Falluneer- Sending to Lord of Flesh re: (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Ebon Spear.

(Indecipherable Due to Burns)light: Sending to Lord of Blood re: Assassination of (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Yukkot, Recovery of Blood (More Burns).

(Indecipherable Due to Burns)odge- Sending to Cult of Pale (More Burns) re: Initiate Divining Ritual Sacrifices. FIND THE DAMN ZIGGURAT.

Garrunrow- (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Kill the Last Bloodwolf. Recover (More Burns) Key.

Mountain of Smoke- (Indecipherable Due to Burns) crypt. Seize the Ebon (More Burns).

Sussoon- Ensure the Prophecy (Indecipherable Due to Burns)... Pay the Bounty Hunters to Find the Abydossian and the Princesses. re: Sacrifices of The Old Blood

(There is more, but seemingly out of paranoia Bence switched to Abyssal. It is impossible to tell how many lines there are, as the last half of the paper is fully burned away)

Spoiler: Arcane Lore concerning Bence's Notes

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The magic of Contingency is a nearly mythical bit of spell work that was said to be lost when the Library of Leng burned down. It allows a caster to prepare spells in advance for a predetermined event, in this case John Bence's own death, and the spells will automatically cast when the event happens. If Bence is capable of such sorcery, he is likely far more powerful than his flashy death at the party's hands would indicate.

The Mirror of Leng is a artifact of the Library of Leng, said to contain a frozen moment of time where the library was at it's height that a person can temporarily step in to, giving access to the greatest magical library this world has ever seen. Supposedly several mirrors were made, though some are confirmed destroyed after their use led to come calamity of forbidden magics long lost to time. The Scepter of Rulership is said to be an even more powerful version of a Rod of Rulership, a magic item that allows for mass mind manipulation of people to believe that the holder of the Scepter is their rightful ruler. The last time the Scepter was confirmed in play it toppled an entire nation.

Though numbering and organizing the layers of the Abyss is a fool's errand, there are some realms that are constant enough to designate. The one hundred and thirteenth layer is Thanatos, layer of Orcus, the Lord of Death. It is a lifeless frozen landscape where life is snuffed out almost as soon as it arrives, either by the untold legions of undead denizens, the magical aura of the layer itself, or, in the worst cases, by Orcus himself, using his fearsome Wand.

Spoiler: John Bence's Wall Art

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There are no invisible objects in the room, but the entire back wall of the cabin is plastered with profane runes and abyssal scribblings. Where there was nothing to the naked eye, there is an extensive patchwork of spell work, seemingly scribed in the rusted red of blood. More disturbing is the fragments of souls that have been bound to the wall. Faces of people rise and seethe from the wood like a strange and rippling tide, mouths open in anguish. There are not many of them left, presumably due to whatever spell was used here absorbing so much energy, but there is a fine layer of ectoplasm that would indicate that once there were dozens of soul fragments powering this spell. The sight turns Mal's stomach, as the chaotic, destructive magic of the Abyss is written as plainly as news script, but as subtly as any devil could manage.

Spoiler: Monsters

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Barlgura: Demon loosed by summoning ritual on the road to Dam'ess. Slain with its summoned partner by team. (Bless helped with accuracy issues due to invisibility. In the future, layer mind sliver to aid with saves.)
Brazen Hart: Spirit of the wild wood around Dam'ess. Seeks to test the party's mettle by forcing an open fight with the Barlgura.
Horror of Yurl: Shapeshifting kind of monster. Severs limbs, creates euphoria, and slays by consuming the liver. The newest variant flies...
Tree-house horror: elven make. Demon infested.

Spoiler: Instrument of the Bards

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Mal needs a translator, the spells, and woodcrafter to create a new relic.

Spoiler: Full Description

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Still, tucked among the primers and amateur books he finds a book that deals with the blending of magic and music. Specifically, it holds the instructions and rituals for a new version of the famed artifacts known as the instruments of the bards. Unfortunately, about a third of the book is in a language Mal does not understand or recognize, including most of the rites and rituals to imbue it with magic. Still, with a translator, appropriate magics, some study, and someone skilled in wood craft, he may be able to produce one of these relics for himself.

Report daily updates to Mistress Moira at last light.

**purepolarpanzer** · 2021-09-02, 12:15 PM (ISO 8601)

Bounties for Vargath

The bounty board is a small affair, with a variety of notices. Some of them are so old and rain worn that they are illegible, which may lead one to reckon that there is a shortage of justice in the Vale. Either that or the owner of the Hound's Kennel doesn't bother to upkeep the board as much as he should. But there are four more recent postings that seem available that Vargath may find interest in.

Spoiler: Bounties

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One a fresh piece of parchment- "The Guard of Harumburg will pay 6000 gold mountains for the live capture of the man known as the Sewer Master. Half bounty will be paid if he is turned in dead but with substantial proof of identity. NO BOUNTY will be paid for a corpse with no evidence."

On two older pieces of paper- "The Wizard Demidonio will pay 3000 gold mountains for the live capture of an Otyugh for waste management purposes under his tower. Bonus to be paid for young specimens receptive to training. Deliveries accepted at the crag east of Everpeak Lodge."

"Welden Angrund will pay 4000 gold mountains and a boon of magical arms or armor craft for the scales and bones of a black dragon for a custom order. Deliveries accepted at the Mountain of Smoke."

And finally on the most worn and hardest to read sheet of paper- "Reldell the Monunificent will pay gold for magical beasts of every sort for his zoological studies in Sussoon. Of particular interest are giant beasts, intriguing fey, and fierce drakes or wyverns. Bonuses for live capture, but will settle for well preserved trophies. For leads and a good time, visit the Zoo!" Barely visible on the paper is a fierce looking scaly head with teeth bared and flames coming from it's nostrils behind a barred cage.

The Writ and the Raven

Nome smiles at Mal and Diodorus in turn, giving each of them the same double cheek kiss that she bestowed upon Set. "Representatives of the Obsidian Tower! This is a meeting blessed by the spirits of fortune! Do not be so humble, Maledictus! I am but a mid ranking official of a little known philosophical community, but the esteem of the Tower is known far and wide on this plane! You should be proud of your scholarship, as well as your wise and skilled leaders like Diodorus. It is said that your dedication to the arts of mysticism and magic surpass even death itself!" She looks the statue up and down, then gives Mal a once over... followed by a wicked grin and a twice over, taking him in with eyes that show a bit of hunger.

Spoiler: OOC

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For Set- with her current friendly disposition, you don't think that anything would offend Nome, though Ulu might be less amenable to sensitive topics.

For Mal- You've not heard of the Shadowkeeper, but the title of Darkest is claimed by a few beings, none of them very pleasant. Historically that has been used by the Queen of the Winter Court of fey, the Raven Queen who resides in the Shadowfell, as well as Orcus, Demon Lord of Undeath. There may be other pretenders to the title, but those are the heavy weights, and little enough is known about them outside of the most elite libraries of the world.

**Awful** · 2021-09-02, 06:23 PM (ISO 8601)

Selissa Betula
Wood Elf Scout Rogue
AC: 16 HP: 38/38 THP: 7
PP: 16
Conditions: Aid
Concentrating: --

The City, talking to Ol' Belcher

Selissa nodded slowly as she considered the greasy man's words.

"Will consider it, " she said noncomittedly. "Place to contact you? "

She didn't know much about this Sewer Lord, but then, she wasn't that sort of criminal. Something to keep in mind, perhaps, if things didn't wyork out with the Red Brothers.

- - -

Ulu's Master

Selissa felt out of place amongst the finery and decadence of the expensive inn, ghosting along with the group and feeling the strange squish of plush carpet beneath her sandals.

Ulu's master was a tiefling. The paladin's reaction to Mal shifted in her mind as she considered it in a new way. She hadn't gone for the dagger in a violent impulse of defence - but of reverence. In a land of devils, amongst mortals tieflings would be on top.

Perhaps that's why that foreign land was said to be much stronger in magic than the humans here - they must be lousy with devilsblood to grant them that infernal-rooted power.

Ulu's master was also unfortunately beautiful despite the horns, and Selissa carefully fought against looking at the inky expanse of thigh the tiefling's dress revealed.

"Selissa Betula," she said by way of introduction, and shifted uncomfortably. She rarely bothered to mention her tribe to outsiders: what people not of the forest elves would know of the deep wood clans?

The mention of the word slave made her frown.

The idea of holding one in bondage was repellent, but the other human had not seemed upset by his servitude, and was held seemingly in regard by the paladin. It was disquieting, nonetheless.

---

"Have you ever seen a ghoul, ghast, or darakhul?"
"Have you ever fought a ghoul, ghast, or darakhul?"
"Have you ever been captured by a ghoul, ghast, or darakhul?"
"What is your fondest memory?"
"What does human flesh taste like?"
"Have you ever spoken to a ghoul, ghast, or darakhul?"
"Have you ever been to Harumburg's sewers?"
"Who is the Sewer Master?"
"Have you ever been hypnotized?"
"What happened to Jackson Andolino?"
"Are you wearing perfume or cologne?"
"What sound does a person make when they drown in sewer water?"
"If you came across a tortoise in the desert, why would you flip it onto it's back?"

Selissa regarded the gangly man for a moment, then nodded. So they were, she surmised, having problems with undead. Interesting. It meant they might be more willing to help, if they stood to directly to gain - and it also was worrying, in that they felt such measures were needed.

The man now interrogating her was ragged, but oozed the sort of casual violence of one used to and able to go from smiling to cracking skulls in a heartbeat. This was obviously no ordinary flunky.

When he cast his spell, she let the magic settle in her throat like a noose waiting to pull - not painful, but bearing the promise of unpleasantness. She answered each question in her calm, monotonic cadence.

"Yes. Ghouls."
"Yes."
"No."
"Was twelve. Hunted a stag by myself. First hunt alone. Leafmother let me ride her bear familiar. Had honeycakes after."
"Heard it called long pork. Assume like that. Don't know otherwise."
"No."

A hint of distaste entered her tone for the next question. The 'of course not' was left unstated.
"Stone tunnels full of human dung. No. Not been in sewers before."
"Don't know."
"No"
"Never heard of them."
"No."
"Same sounds as water but worse smelling, I assume. Only drowned someone in a lake once. They splashed, no other sounds."
The question about the tortoise made her quirk her mouth in distaste.
"Wouldn't unless hunting, and only just before the kill. Would be cruel otherwise."

The man lapsed into silence, and Selissa waited, seeing if that was the end of things. Finally, the question about Conchita. Selissa met the gaze of the sallow man.
"Don't intend to. Only if she tries to kill me. Would defend myself, but otherwise, no intention to. Want to talk."

**Riggdgames** · 2021-09-03, 09:31 PM (ISO 8601)

Set Al-Sayyid
Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
AC: 17 HP: 41/41 THP: 11/11
PP: 12 PIv: 13 PIs: 9
Conditions:
Concentration:

The road to town

Set's dark brown eyes meet the golden gaze of his companion as Mal describes the bond he shares with his masters and his fellow students. "A bond deeper than kinship?" Leaning back, Set breaks eye contact as he stares up into the night sky, contemplating Mal's words for a minute before answering.

"My kin are the only reason I accepted my master's pact in the first place." Dropping his gaze back to the tiefling, Set shakes his head and bites the inside of his cheek. There's no explaining what he doesn't know. What is the Shadowkeeper even devoted to? Are there others bonded by him, or has Set always been chasing phantoms? "You've a whole community devoted to scholarship, bonded by the desire to learn? Is that what it means to be a member of the Obsidian Tower?" Set asks, thinking of the angel's words to Mal. "To join a pact in service to knowledge itself?"

"You traffic with an ambitious Patron. Would you say the Shadowkeeper has a fey or abyssal disposition?"

"Fey," Set answers simply with rare confidence. While the Shadowkeeper's origins and motives may be a mystery, Set is able to make this connection, at least. "<When we first met I was false to you, pretending this was Abydosian. I thought ill of you. I apologize for these things.> Sylvan," Set says by way of explanation for lapsing into a strange language.

"I am no scholar, Mal. I learned my native tongue, Trade speech, and when I grew a bit older, Elvish to understand some of the dignitaries that came to treat with my father. I had no need to learn more than three languages in Abydos.

"Sylvan and Elder-speech, these I learned from Him. I didn't even know what Sylvan was until I came North and found myself amongst fey. I don't know who or what my Patron is, or who He serves, but He shares no kinship with the demons we've faced together."

Whenever their conversation is at an end and silence prevails for a few minutes, Set clears his throat for a last request before retiring for the evening.

"No doubt it is difficult to report each day with only 25 words, but if you find you have a couple to spare, will you ask after Moira's own situation? Perhaps you know better than I do, but I suspect she'll not ask for help even if she needs it. She seems like a capable ally, but not one we'll want to lose." Set navigates the subject as best he can before rising and bidding Mal a good night.

The Writ and the Raven

Set accepts a kiss on both cheeks, hiding his confusion behind a mask of pleasant company as Nome introduces herself, flinching only slightly at her mention of the First among his people. "Abydosians are indeed a noble and honest people," Set says with a practiced smile, mouth twitching as he tries not to think about his standing among them or lack thereof. He bows his head once more to the lady with impeccable manners, shoving other thoughts from his mind.

As Mal introduces himself to Nome, and Nome to him, Set finds a moment to chime in at the offer of a song. "A woman of many talents and expensive tastes will likely find Mal's gift to be an uncommon boon. As far as I am from home, I'm reminded of it each night when Mal plays."

Spoiler: OOC

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Holding off on inquisitor-mode for now. Interested to find out about tieflings and slavery over in Nuguni, but doesn't feel like the right time just yet.

**purepolarpanzer** · 2021-09-04, 09:07 PM (ISO 8601)

Before the City Gates

Ol' Belcher grins his rotten smile again and waves as Selissa and her group prepare to leave. "If you find yourself in the industrial district you can look me up at the Midnight Toil pub. If I'm not there, I soon will be, and the owner knows where to send a runner to find me. I look forward to workin with the lot of you."

The Writ and the Raven

When Selissa's eyes, quick as lightning, flit down to Nome's exposed leg, the tiefling's gaze lowers as well, her eyes meeting Selissa's on the way back up with a brief knowing smile and a wink. The tiefling woman is beautiful, in a full bodied, voluptuous kind of way, and her openness and gregariousness belies a sensual undertone that, rather than creating a sense of awkwardness or shame, strangely feels welcoming and affectionate. When Set endorses Mal's gift of music, Nome raises her arms above her head, the jewels of her dress rising up and then rattling down. "I would love to hear the work of a master musician such as yourself, Maledictus! I can however make no promise that I will not dance! I love to dance after indulging in fine wine and finer company!" Ulu speaks up for the first time since you've entered the suite, her tone cold and distant as always. "Mistress Nomcebo is a professional praise singer. The closest comparisons to your culture would be between a bard and a courtesan, in other lands a geisha or a bulmwe. You are not special, she is flirting and flattering with everyone." Nome wags her finger at Ulu and clucks her tongue. "Uluthando is simply jealous that I am showing so much attention to our new guests. But how could I not, when you are all such attractive and interesting people?" Ulu snorts. "Was the busboy attractive and interesting when you called him "deific and debonair" while stroking his hand? The boy almost had a stroke." Nome then shrugs as she lays back down on her couch. "When you are a praise singer, you learn to seek out the best qualities of people, gifts and boons that they might not even be aware of. You are wrong, Uluthando. Our guests are special. The busboy was special. One day I pray the spirits will clear your eyes and reveal to you that EVERYONE is special. And right now, these adventurers are especially special. Play your song, Maledictus, and I will return one performance for another." Her tail wraps around the stem of her wine glass and playfully whips the dregs directly into Ulu's face, who simply draws a cloth from her bag and wipes the wine away, almost as though she expected it.

Tumbletown

Darby immediately looks away from Selissa, not for a moment doubting the truth of her words. He draws a case out of his pocket, takes a cigarette from inside, and strikes a match that smells like sulphur. "All right. You're on the up and up. Or your egg is so cracked you're leaking yolk on the floor. I'll go get Cruel. Wait here." He takes a long drag, exhaling the smoke away from you, before leaving the room. After a mere five minutes, the pompadoured man returns, entering before a woman whose angles make razor blades look dull. Since Selissa last met Conchita Cruel the woman has added several piercings to her already modified body, and each piercing is made from the bones of her enemies. She's also shaved her head and tattooed the visage of Dead Tom, the skeletal mascot of the Red Brothers, over her own features. The number of knives she normally carries has not increased or decreased, but many of them shine with the glimmer of gold or jewels, the trappings of authority in the criminal underworld. When she smiles at Selissa her own grin is surrounded by Dead Tom's toothy smile as well. "Betula. Been an age and a half since you've been in Harumburg. Come with your friends to slum it one more time? Or have you finally grown tired of the trees and gained an interest in making some real coin? Either way, your skills and your bow are always welcome here. Might even have work for you, if you're as good as I remember." Cruel's demeanor is that of a petty tyrant done good, enjoying the power of her position without growing complacent.

Spoiler: Insight DC 14

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Cruel is a wreck. Her eyes are nervously checking the dark corners of the room, her hands are never far from the hilts of her knives, and the ink around her eyes only adds the the dark circles there. She looks like she's been awake for days. Hands jittery. Fingers shaking. Something has this underworld nobility scared.

**Theophilus** · 2021-09-04, 10:15 PM (ISO 8601)

Mal
Levistus Tiefling Bard 5
AC: 14 HP: 41/41 THP: 7/7
PP: 11 PIv: 13 PIs: 11
Spell Slots: 1st - 4/4 2nd - 3/3 3rd - 2/2
Fey Touched: 1st - 1/1 2nd - 1/1
Masquerade Tattoo: 1st - 0/1
Levistus Legacy: Armor of Agathys - 1/1 Darkness - 1/1
Bardic Inspiration: 4/4
Healer's Kit: 20/20
Mal Conditions:
Mal Concentrating: ---

Diodorus
Ancient Companion: Healer
Companion HP: 30/30
Companion AC: 16
Companion PP: 18 PIv: 12 PIs: 12
Back from the Abyss

The road to town

Maledictus listened to Set attentively. He then said, "Scholarship above all. To comprehend the multiverse is a gift rarer and richer than seeking to possess the realms."

The tiefling nodded politely at the admission and then responded, "I shall accommodate a request within the parameters of the device. To lose our patroness would be ill indeed and render naught our venture."

That evening Maledictus composed a message, "Roadside respite. We keep pace. Hound's teeth lengthens, yet collared. Solidarity fosters in the cohort. The capital lies at hand. How fares the hunt, m'lady?"

The Writ and Raven

Maledictus smiled and savored the tiefling's promiscuous attentions. He did not doubt an evening in her suite would lead to the revel etched on the wine basin of the Oskani that rests in the hall of the chaste lovers. He drew his bow along the slender sinews with a deliberateness that seemed to draw its tip along her silhouette before he broke away to perform the satyr's circuit. The image of the

Spoiler: black vase

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appeared in the center of the hall. Pale cameos depicted roses on the vine, lovers in embrace, fauns peeping from the foliage, grape clusters draped upon a mountain, and cloud coiling from its crest which had the shape of a devil's face. The bard sang with a vibrato that hung upon the air like smoke from rolled tobacco.

"Sweet Avellino, richest of women,
Your pale slopes bear the grandest grapes.
Men sail afar to find your vales
And press upon your gossamer veils
That they would yield your beauty."

"Avellino, darling of the divines,
Your lovers race through your valleys,
Delighting in the fruit of the vine
That succors pleasure and delight.
Call them to your bosom sweetly."

Avellino, smitten by all,
Your secret wine cost us dearly.
Up surged your sighs! Down roared
Your fountains to drown us all.
Now, Avellino, your lovers lie dreaming."

Maledictus hovered the chord upon sighs, the climax of the song that descended into a soft pianissimo. The vase subtly changed throughout, the mountain shifting from the background to the foreground until the devil's head transformed into a woman sighing. From the lady's mouth transfixed in either passion or terror flowed a dark stream that wove around lovers, fauns, grapes, and houses, leaving only a flaming foam in the tide's wake.

Diodorus remarked, "Ah, Avellino. I have seen her in the flesh, yet would not recognize her after that Day. A toast to the maiden who makes merry and buries her children in ecstasy. May her fervor slumber while her lovers are in her fertile arms."

Mal grasped a glass and downed it after responding, "Ave, Victrix!"

Spoiler: OOC

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A bit of a performance and wax poetic. Minor Illusion (shape) to form a cameo vase, recasting the shape with each stanza.

Spoiler: Mal's Notes

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Spoiler: Cast and Crew

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Set: ~~outcast~~ exiled princeling of Abydos. Two princess sisters (Sisi and Sythpen Al-Sayyid). Romantic connection for Moira?
Selissa: Blighted or reconstructed wood elf? Purported Scout.
Vargath: Afflicted Lycanthrope seeking to suspend his curse. A Bloodwolf?
Mandaras: Rival to Dr. Fixer.
Dr. Fixer: Moira's lieutenant and cultivates relations with the locals of Vale.
Elder Maus: Seeks to kill Moira. Hired mercenaries who betrayed him.
--Healed to his full 9ft height.
--Disbelieves Moira's insights; seeks to end her directly or indirectly.
--Seeks us to verify the truths of Moira's claims--or stop her by any means necessary.
Maulei: Successor to Elder Maus as elder of Dam'ess.
Uluthando Mikoso "Ulu:" Paladin? of Order. From beyond the Vale. Reacts by gripping her dagger and declaring Tieflings are treated differently...Lawful (N/E?) Order? Calls Mal 'Mdala Ohlonishwayo.' Professes to serve no god, but spirits whose reach may be weaker in the Vale than elsewhere.
Nomcebo: Ulu's handler. Ink skinned tiefling with prehensile tail and an obvious allure.
Kagiso: Ulu's slave and carriage driver.

Spoiler: Dream of Leng

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Spoiler: In Full

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Mal has had this dream before. He finds himself in the legendary Library of Leng, an ancient home of virtually all worldly and mystical knowledge that burned when the city it was located in was razed nearly nine hundred years ago, half the world away. Still, in his dreams it still existed, and these dreams always played out the same. Hours of dutiful research, referencing and cross referencing sources from multiple tomes, carefully reconstructing ancient languages, until EUREKA! Some devastating and profound arcane truth became evident to him, and the sense of accomplisment and relief normally carried with him for several hours after waking up, even if he could never actually remember anything he learned. But this time is different. Mal is well versed enough in the arcane and divine arts to know that sometimes dreams carry real meaning. And as he stares down at what he has been working on, he instinctively knows this bears some significance. Where normally he would have arcane formulas and theorems, he sees only "The One Who Stalks Behind" scrawled over and over again in his own hand, though the words are manic and look like they were written in distress. He searches the paper for any further omen, and down at the bottom of the page, in the smallest script he could possibly manage, it says Behind you!. Just as he is about to turn, a claw as strong as iron grips the side of his head, snaps his neck to the side, and ends all feeling in the bard's body. But he can still hear the deep throated growls, along with the wet noises of whatever killed him beginning to eat him alive. But he never gets to see it before the dream ends.

The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. RIGHT BEHIND YOU! The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind.

Spoiler: Bence's Secrets

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Spoiler: Bence's Journal

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...is a backwards plane, so far removed from the Prime Material that it has not seen an angel or the work of a god in a millennia. I hear that far to the west they do not even worship the gods. Proper savages, but I must remain vigilant, as their knowledge of the ways of this world is far more educated than most. But it is ripe for my conquest. While my Master was tasked with corrupting Avendor, my home plane, a bastion of good and law, my chore is simply to tip the rat into the bucket of the Abyss as it prowls the rim looking for cheese. This plane is already so flooded with the energies of the Abyss that demons spontaneously emerge, monsters manifest in the dark, and their weak leaders bargain with forces they would be wiser to repulse. It will be child's play to nudge it the last few inches into anarchy and destruction, mostly due to the efforts of Pale Night herself. For thousands of years she has been grasping and clawing at this realm, dragging it further from the light and closer to her realm day by day, inch by inch, soul by soul. While my home plane was beyond my ability to destroy, this place will be my masterpiece. With my death at the hands of the forces of good, a symphony of destruction will play the anthem to my ascension to demonhood. The Pale Mother has promised me that each death will bring me closer to my true form, and each rebirth will increase my power, just as our pact promised. I can't wait to die. When will the heroes arrive? I've been planting and tending the seed of the idea in the old giant's mind for weeks now. When will it bear fruit? When can my dark rise to power begin? (The rest is a combination of burned and Abyssal that becomes impossible to read)

Dam'ess- Mass Quasit Summoning. Magic Mouth to Levy Commands re: Retrieve Mirror of Leng, Scepter of Rulership, And Aniot's Cube. Disperse to Appropriate Parties Per The Plan. Burn The Cabin.

Harumburg- Sending to Lord of Bone re: Portal to the 113th. (Indecipherable Due to Burns) In Accordance with Their Great Alliance.

Falluneer- Sending to Lord of Flesh re: (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Ebon Spear.

(Indecipherable Due to Burns)light: Sending to Lord of Blood re: Assassination of (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Yukkot, Recovery of Blood (More Burns).

(Indecipherable Due to Burns)odge- Sending to Cult of Pale (More Burns) re: Initiate Divining Ritual Sacrifices. FIND THE DAMN ZIGGURAT.

Garrunrow- (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Kill the Last Bloodwolf. Recover (More Burns) Key.

Mountain of Smoke- (Indecipherable Due to Burns) crypt. Seize the Ebon (More Burns).

Sussoon- Ensure the Prophecy (Indecipherable Due to Burns)... Pay the Bounty Hunters to Find the Abydossian and the Princesses. re: Sacrifices of The Old Blood

(There is more, but seemingly out of paranoia Bence switched to Abyssal. It is impossible to tell how many lines there are, as the last half of the paper is fully burned away)

Spoiler: Arcane Lore concerning Bence's Notes

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The magic of Contingency is a nearly mythical bit of spell work that was said to be lost when the Library of Leng burned down. It allows a caster to prepare spells in advance for a predetermined event, in this case John Bence's own death, and the spells will automatically cast when the event happens. If Bence is capable of such sorcery, he is likely far more powerful than his flashy death at the party's hands would indicate.

The Mirror of Leng is a artifact of the Library of Leng, said to contain a frozen moment of time where the library was at it's height that a person can temporarily step in to, giving access to the greatest magical library this world has ever seen. Supposedly several mirrors were made, though some are confirmed destroyed after their use led to come calamity of forbidden magics long lost to time. The Scepter of Rulership is said to be an even more powerful version of a Rod of Rulership, a magic item that allows for mass mind manipulation of people to believe that the holder of the Scepter is their rightful ruler. The last time the Scepter was confirmed in play it toppled an entire nation.

Though numbering and organizing the layers of the Abyss is a fool's errand, there are some realms that are constant enough to designate. The one hundred and thirteenth layer is Thanatos, layer of Orcus, the Lord of Death. It is a lifeless frozen landscape where life is snuffed out almost as soon as it arrives, either by the untold legions of undead denizens, the magical aura of the layer itself, or, in the worst cases, by Orcus himself, using his fearsome Wand.

Spoiler: John Bence's Wall Art

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There are no invisible objects in the room, but the entire back wall of the cabin is plastered with profane runes and abyssal scribblings. Where there was nothing to the naked eye, there is an extensive patchwork of spell work, seemingly scribed in the rusted red of blood. More disturbing is the fragments of souls that have been bound to the wall. Faces of people rise and seethe from the wood like a strange and rippling tide, mouths open in anguish. There are not many of them left, presumably due to whatever spell was used here absorbing so much energy, but there is a fine layer of ectoplasm that would indicate that once there were dozens of soul fragments powering this spell. The sight turns Mal's stomach, as the chaotic, destructive magic of the Abyss is written as plainly as news script, but as subtly as any devil could manage.

Spoiler: Monsters

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Barlgura: Demon loosed by summoning ritual on the road to Dam'ess. Slain with its summoned partner by team. (Bless helped with accuracy issues due to invisibility. In the future, layer mind sliver to aid with saves.)
Brazen Hart: Spirit of the wild wood around Dam'ess. Seeks to test the party's mettle by forcing an open fight with the Barlgura.
Horror of Yurl: Shapeshifting kind of monster. Severs limbs, creates euphoria, and slays by consuming the liver. The newest variant flies...
Tree-house horror: elven make. Demon infested.

Spoiler: Instrument of the Bards

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Mal needs a translator, the spells, and woodcrafter to create a new relic.

Spoiler: Full Description

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Still, tucked among the primers and amateur books he finds a book that deals with the blending of magic and music. Specifically, it holds the instructions and rituals for a new version of the famed artifacts known as the instruments of the bards. Unfortunately, about a third of the book is in a language Mal does not understand or recognize, including most of the rites and rituals to imbue it with magic. Still, with a translator, appropriate magics, some study, and someone skilled in wood craft, he may be able to produce one of these relics for himself.

Report daily updates to Mistress Moira at last light.

**Spore** · 2021-09-05, 01:06 PM (ISO 8601)

Doctor Ignacius Madaras, Medicus Extravagant!
Gnome Artificer/Transmuter
AC: 18 HP: 21/32
PP: 11 PIv: 17 PIs: 11
Conditions: -
Concentration: -

Four hundred for effects that probably don't even confer any help? Hah! Ignacius scoffs after purchasing the scroll. I do not purchase these for fun, I am partially responsible for our safety. I will return, you have time to make up your mind. With that, Ignacius leaves for the alchemist, intending not only to buy the metallic powders, but also have him gauge the price of his honey vials.

**Awful** · 2021-09-05, 06:07 PM (ISO 8601)

Selissa Betula
Wood Elf Scout Rogue
AC: 16 HP: 38/38 THP: 7
PP: 16
Conditions:
Concentrating: --

Ulu's Master

As their eyes met, Selissa immediately glanced away, a hint of colour on her normally porcelain-white cheeks. While the tiefling's smile seemed far from offended - indeed, more the opposite with gentle amusement - the wood elf still cursed her traitorous eyes.

She was glad when Mal began playing, providing a distraction. It wasn't a song she'd heard before, and seemed to be either somewhat lewd or about a mountain, or possibly both.

Subtly, she glanced at the door in case she needed to make a swift exit to escape an increasingly awkward situation.

---

Tumbletown

Cruel looked just as sharp as when they'd last met: like a knife edge pretending to be a woman.

"Cruel," Selissa said in greeting when she entered. "Done well for yourself."

She listened to what the underqueen said, then gave a small shake of her head. She simply got into the meat of the matter; fancy words had never been her forte.

"Just me here. Few others, not the old crew. Had a... bad job. Ended up split for a while." She lapsed into silence for a moment, thinking of her next words and wasting a second mulling on pointless longing for her old team.
"Hearing there's problems. Undead under city. Wanted to find out if true or not. Guessing so, from his-." she twitched her head towards the smoking Darby, "Questions. Thought you and your crew would know any tunnels best. What's not on maps or charts."

**Riggdgames** · 2021-09-05, 09:32 PM (ISO 8601)

Set Al-Sayyid
Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
AC: 17 HP: 41/41 THP: 11/11
PP: 12 PIv: 13 PIs: 9
Conditions:
Concentration:

The Writ and the Raven

Set had never favored wine in the desert, but when in Harumburg, do as your host does. It hardly seemed to matter that his host was another traveler. Settling into a lounge chair with a drawn out sigh like a man twice his age, Set revels in the plush cushions for a moment, feeling their embrace like a lost lover. As he takes a sip of the deep red in his glass, Set finds nothing to complain about between the chair, the wine, and the company.

Watching with an ever-growing smile, Set lets out a small, but genuine chuckle of delight as sweet Avellino drowns her lovers in her secret wine. Set salutes Mal with his glass, responding "Ave, Victrix," and hoping his pronunciation is correct. "<Fee sahitkum,>" he toasts, downing his own glass.

"What say you, praise singer?" Set asks, smiling broadly as he helps himself to another. It felt good. Drinking the day away, surrounded by lavish comforts and serenaded without worry for what lay ahead. There would be ample time for pain and death down the road, but another glass of wine in this wonderful chair couldn't hurt. "Will you sing Mal's praises some more now that he's taken a turn and sung for us? It seems only fair."

After Nome's had a chance to respond, Set finds a moment to ask his host, "what of Ulu, Nome? I've heard you chastise her, but surely you're well-practiced at praising her as well. Will you share some of her exploits with us? We have only known her and Kagiso for a short time, but they have both shown their mettle many times over. It's not hard to imagine they've accomplished some great deeds for your Order."

**purepolarpanzer** · 2021-09-06, 01:21 PM (ISO 8601)

On the Road

Spoiler: A Message from Moira

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Birel disposed of, unfortunately. She was too far gone. Returning key home now. Then the real work begins. Be careful. Give my best to Set.

Shopping With Ignacius

At the alchemist's shop, Dr. Madaras finds powdered metals at a reasonable cost. He also finds that the elderly human owner is willing to pay handsomely for phase wasp honey- one hundred gold mountains per vial.

Spoiler: Insight DC 15

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The vials are worth more than that, but the alchemist is looking to make a profit, so the offer is on the low end of fair, but still fair. A successful persuasion check may get you a bit more.

The Writ and the Raven

Nomcebo listened intently to Mal's song, her own sighs and coos of appreciation accenting the song in all the right places. Her eyes flit from Maledictus' performance to Selissa's traitorous eyes and back as her tail twitches to the music. When the song is done, she thirds her voice to the cry of "Ave, Victrix!" with enthusiasm, tipping back and finishing her own glass. Setting it down, she claps happily and repeats a word in her native tongue several times, her body bouncing slightly as she moves up and down. "You sing and play so beautifully, Maledictus! Your tongue could charm the birds down from the trees, and if my skin were not so dark you would see me blush like an innocent maiden!"

Responding to Set's inquiries of a performance, Nome stands from her lounge chair and speaks to Ulu in their shared language. Ulu bows obediently and moves to an adjacent room. She was as impassive as stone throughout Mal's performance, and she seems relieved to escape the charged room. Nome speaks as she stretches in preparation, her body jiggling slightly as she moves. "I have praised Ulu a thousand times, at least once before she goes out on any mission. Unfortunately, her cold heart is not receptive to my words. Still, whether she admits it or not, my magic has saved her life more than once. Ulu, whether alone or with other members of our Order, has slain dozens of demons, from the lowly Manes all the way up to the mighty Hezrou. Even humble Kagiso has bathed in the blood of the chaotic fiends, though he is no warrior. She has the might of a rubber tree and the steadfastness of a stone, despite seeing the death and dismemberment of a score worth of lifetimes. Our Order was once much larger than it is now, and we survivors are fighting a losing battle. But through duty and obedience, we persevere, against death and madness itself." Ulu returns just in time for the compliments to end, bringing out a wooden case. Nome accepts it with a brief word of thanks, sets it on the table, opens it up, and begins removing instruments.

First come finger cymbals, which she slips onto each finger of her left hand. A rattle made of a small turtle shell gets picked up by her tail. She slips strings of copper bells onto her ankles, kicking off the slippers she was wearing. Finally, a small wood and brass device with naked clockwork gets set on the table. She winds a winch on this small device, and it begins to play with tones partway between a music box and a piano. Then her body begins to move, with grace like liquid silk. She moves in a slow circle around the room, stopping beside Selissa first. Then she begins to sing in a beautiful voice, all the while clapping her right hand to her side, stomach, and rump, playing the finger cymbals with her left, jingling the bells with her steps, and shaking the rattle with her tail. The whole affair is mesmerizing and hypnotic. She does not sing in common, but somehow each of you understand that she is lifting up all the best qualities of you while ignoring any failings. As she praises Selissa, her hands come within inches of the wood elf but never make contact, hand moving up and down her body in time to the music, only to retreat and clap against her own inky skin. There is an almost electrical charge between the tiefling's hands and Selissa's skin, and between this lightning feeling, the cadence of the music, and the rhythm of the instruments, Selissa finds her body relaxing and her soul uplifting within her. Before she knows it (and possibly before she is ready for it), Nome has moved on to Mal to do the same thing- hands roaming without touching, clapping, ringing cymbals, dancing bells, and tail making sounds of rain on a roof. Through the music her voice seems to be heard not just with your ears but with every muscle, bone, and tendon of your body. Sometimes her words are so quiet it seems she is whispering them just for you, and sometimes her voice rises so that the whole world may hear how great, powerful, and attractive you are. When she finally moves on to Set, the magic of her music has become apparent- Selissa and Mal's minds feel sharper, their perceptions heightened, their bodies ready to live up to the greatness promised in a foreign tongue. The way Nome's body simultaneously handles so many instruments looks nearly impossible, but she maintains the beat effortlessly, as though she had trained her whole life for this moment of praise. Set soon feels the magical effects as well, and it requires minor focus on his part not to shapeshift in response to the waves of pleasure that flow through him. She even takes time to praise Diodorus.

Then, just as quickly as it began, the mechanical hand piano stops and Nome's voice fades. She immediately begins putting away all of the instruments, wiggling her toes as she nimbly draws the bells off of her ankles. It seemed to last only a few minutes, but you are all surprised to realize that just over an hour has gone by. And, now that you are not drunk on song and dance, you feel invigorated like you never have before. "I hope you are all pleased by my humble abilities." Nome bows, a small and subtle smile on her cherubic face.

Tumbletown

Cruel sits on the corner of the table and licks her lips. "Old crew split up? Shame. You all worked well together. Hope your new crew is up to snuff." When asked about the sewers under the city, Cruel's eyes light up with a moment of rage before she looks away with feigned disinterest. "Red Brothers don't play underground any more. We've got some old maps and charts of our own. More accurate than any you'd find in city hall, that's for sure. But... they might not be accurate to what you'd find down there either. Sewers are the territory of some ******* named "The Sewer Master" to people outside his gang, or "the Sewer Lord" to his own rats. Showed up a few years ago and politely requested we stop running contraband under the city streets. We told him to **** off, killed his messengers, and before we knew it we were up to our armpits in ghoul attacks. Couldn't move a copper coin under the streets without ghouls and ghasts hounding for blood. Worse yet, he's got darakhuls on the payroll. We're still learning what that means, but they seem to make the lesser ghouls and ghasts... smarter. More civilized. They move more like a military unit than a pack of stupid, flesh eating undead when one of those is around. And the scariest thing about darakhuls is they can hide what they truly are. Walk about on the surface, lookin just as human as me and... well, not you, but you get the idea. No telltale stink, like the lesser undead got, until they reveal them true selves. Then the stink is so powerful it can overwhelm even my brutiest boys. And we've heard rumors that they are hypnotizing living folk to do their dirty work too. Just last week someone came to pay their monthly tithe to the Brothers and threw a cobra at me. Not an undead, someone we'd worked well with for years, and they up and try to kill me! And no amount of torture or magic could make em even remember where they got the snake or why they wanted me dead!" Cruel spits on the floor in disgust. "Add to that whole mess the drug the Sewer Master is pumpin into the city streets- this Corpse Dust stuff that's makin them so much coin- and we're on the brink of being overwhelmed, Betula. We've got coin to pay you for good work, don't think we don't, but I'll be honest with you- you won't be joining the winning side. But maybe you and your friends can change that, huh?" She smiles her double grin at the elf once again.

Spoiler: OOC

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For 24 Hours you four are under the effect of a Heroes' Feast Spell. You gain- The creature is cured of all diseases and poison, becomes immune to poison and being frightened, and makes all Wisdom saving throws with advantage (including Madness saves made with the wisdom stat). Its hit point maximum also increases by (2d10)[2] , and it gains the same number of hit points. These benefits last for 24 hours.

You also all gain Inspiration until you use it (No 24 hour limit). You all also must make a DC 15 Charisma Saving throw or become a bit addicted to praise, desiring to go through the ritual again when the 24 hours are up. You're not going to kill anyone to get it or anything, but you desire it in a subtle and strong fashion.

**Riggdgames** · 2021-09-07, 09:18 PM (ISO 8601)

Set Al-Sayyid
Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
AC: 17 HP: 41/41 THP1: 11/11 THP2: 2/2
PP: 12 PIv: 13 PIs: 9
Conditions: Diodorus' Healing Light, Nome's Hero's Feast
Concentration:

The Writ and the Raven

Set melts into the cushions as Nome dances and writhes in time to the music, playing each instrument in unison with expertise. As she sings their praises one by one, Set's thoughts and fears recede until they're gone entirely, an effect largely unknown to him outside of battle.

Perhaps it's her movements that push all thoughts aside, or her raw musical talent. Perhaps it's her voice that mesmerizes. Perhaps it's the language that's incomprehensible, yet still allows them to divine their place in the world as being beyond reproach. Set feels pride swell in his chest as Nome's voice rises and falls with words so pure it seems impossible they could be expressed in any language.

Wine glass forgotten, Set sits mute as Nome draws nearer, his skin tingling as she reaches out, always leaving a few inches to spare before touching him. Without conscious thought, Set's skin begins subtly changing, reaching back slightly as Nome's fingertips close in on him.

At first it's simply goosebumps wherever her fingers approach, traveling like a wave over his skin wherever she draws near. Soon, however, the goosebumps give way to matching fingertips flowing under his skin, reaching out slightly as if to touch Nome before crashing back to the surface when her hands draw back.

When the song finally fades, Set slaps a hand over the final deformation as he becomes aware, willing it back into his skin. Eyes darting from side to side between Evergreen and Iceblood, Set looks up at Nome last, though strangely he doesn't want to escape her gaze. Her pure, divine gaze.

Why fret? Either she'd seen or she hadn't. These are friends, true friends, the likes of which few people ever know. If any could be trusted with such a secret, it would be the singer who saw and spoke only truth.

"Nome," Set begins reverently, rising with enthusiasm despite a heady buzz. He places a hand out on his chair to steady himself as his vision fades to black for a moment, then resurfaces. "There is much I've learned to do, as you've seen. You know more than most what I'm capable of, if only I embrace the gifts I've been given. But even if I were to live as long as Selissa, I could never hope to sing your praises and come close to the mark." Set bows low, his skin crawling but motionless. "Forgive my ineptitude."

Spoiler: OOC

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DM's discretion whether the shapechanging effect is mostly hidden beneath Set's robes (delightfully creepy) or out in the open along his neck or face or something (even creepier?). I don't really know where Nome's hands are when they get close, but she's free to notice something or not if she's too busy with her performance.

**Awful** · 2021-09-08, 06:00 PM (ISO 8601)

Selissa Betula
Wood Elf Scout Rogue
AC: 16 HP: 38/38->40/40 THP: 7
PP: 16
Conditions:
Concentrating: --

Ulu's Master

As the dance began, Selissa watched first with wary caution, then a hidden enjoyment, before she began getting praised.

A weird, warm feeling was rising in the wood elf, a strange mix of intense embarrassment and happiness. It almost felt like lightning crackled in the spaces between her flesh and the Tiefling's, and she felt a blush staining her otherwise paper-white cheeks.

When Nome moved on, she was left with a curious feeling of emptiness and a fierce heat in her cheeks. With a disconcerting lurch, she realised it had been an hour as the farlander had danced and praised in alien tongues.

"<Impressive>. Ah- was good. Yes. <Good.>" Even as she spoke, her traitorous tongue stumbled and slipped into her mother tongue.

With a mix of embarrassment and elation, she hastily inclined her head in farewell.
"Things to complete. Must go. Goodbye," she said awkwardly, and almost, but not quite, fled the room.

---

Tumbletown

Selissa blinked.

"Threw a snake at you," Selissa repeated. She was silent for a long moment before finally she spoke again. "Huh."

Bizarre assassination attempts aside, she thought back on the disreputable rogue they'd met coming into the city. Her mouth quirked in a pensive frown: the ability for their enemy to disguise or mind control was by far the most troublesome aspect.
"Encountered one of the Sewer Master's men coming into the city. Said he could be found at Midnight Toil pub. Old Belcher. Think that was a darakhul? "

She gave a light sigh.
"Might not be winning side, but don't plan on giving up. Will help against undead. City ugly enough without monsters under it." she inclined her head.
"Would like any information on Sewer Master. Ghouls. Numbers, nest locations. And this Corpse Dust. The more you share, the better. Coin should help with encouraging others in my team."

**Theophilus** · 2021-09-08, 08:59 PM (ISO 8601)

Mal
Levistus Tiefling Bard 5
AC: 14 HP: 41/41 (43/43) THP: 7/7
PP: 11 PIv: 13 PIs: 11
Spell Slots: 1st - 4/4 2nd - 3/3 3rd - 2/2
Fey Touched: 1st - 1/1 2nd - 1/1
Masquerade Tattoo: 1st - 0/1
Levistus Legacy: Armor of Agathys - 1/1 Darkness - 1/1
Bardic Inspiration: 4/4
Healer's Kit: 20/20
Mal Conditions: Praised into Health. Immune to poison frightened. Wisdom saving throws with advantage. Loki's Bane
Mal Concentrating: ---

Diodorus
Ancient Companion: Healer
Companion HP: 30/30 (32/32)
Companion AC: 16
Companion PP: 18 PIv: 12 PIs: 12
Praised into Health. Immune to frightened. Wisdom saving throws with advantage

On the Road

Mal related to Set that evening, "Your Lady sends her regards to you specifically and seems well."

The Writ and Raven

Maledictus drank in the praise along with the wine, though he kept his face unmarked by the stirred delight in her praises. The lightning atmosphere kindled a desire to hear Nome's voice, feel her ample support, and bask in her mesmerizing dance. When she shifted, he inwardly lamented the end of the focused allure. He had to smile at the bewitching enchantress. Mal clapped with the reserve of a nobleman, "Your words are a nectar the listeners would bottle into a fine mead of memory, Nome."

The tiefling moved to the wine decanter, poured glasses for the group, and toasted, "To the lady of the hour, our gracious, enchanting host. Prost!"

Despite the heady sensation in his soul, the bard could feel the wine would not present a problem no matter how strongly mixed. He drained his glass and toasted once more. Diodorus stood through the praise with a dispassionate mien, immune to enticement in his shell of stone. The statue gave his ward a look as Selissa departed. Mal, too, stepped toward the door and said, "Nome's words have stirred my blood and so roused I would see the library."

He paused for a moment, considering whether to reveal the grim tidings Moira shared. The tiefling thought better and reserved that revelation for a lest festive occasion.

Spoiler: OOC

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Spoiler: Mal's Notes

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Spoiler: Cast and Crew

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Set: ~~outcast~~ exiled princeling of Abydos. Two princess sisters (Sisi and Sythpen Al-Sayyid). Romantic connection for Moira?
Selissa: Blighted or reconstructed wood elf? Purported Scout.
Vargath: Afflicted Lycanthrope seeking to suspend his curse. A Bloodwolf?
Mandaras: Rival to Dr. Fixer.
Dr. Fixer: Moira's lieutenant and cultivates relations with the locals of Vale.
Elder Maus: Seeks to kill Moira. Hired mercenaries who betrayed him.
--Healed to his full 9ft height.
--Disbelieves Moira's insights; seeks to end her directly or indirectly.
--Seeks us to verify the truths of Moira's claims--or stop her by any means necessary.
Maulei: Successor to Elder Maus as elder of Dam'ess.
Uluthando Mikoso "Ulu:" Paladin? of Order. From beyond the Vale. Reacts by gripping her dagger and declaring Tieflings are treated differently...Lawful (N/E?) Order? Calls Mal 'Mdala Ohlonishwayo.' Professes to serve no god, but spirits whose reach may be weaker in the Vale than elsewhere.
Nomcebo: Ulu's handler. Ink skinned tiefling with prehensile tail and an obvious allure.
Kagiso: Ulu's slave and carriage driver.

Spoiler: Dream of Leng

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Spoiler: In Full

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Mal has had this dream before. He finds himself in the legendary Library of Leng, an ancient home of virtually all worldly and mystical knowledge that burned when the city it was located in was razed nearly nine hundred years ago, half the world away. Still, in his dreams it still existed, and these dreams always played out the same. Hours of dutiful research, referencing and cross referencing sources from multiple tomes, carefully reconstructing ancient languages, until EUREKA! Some devastating and profound arcane truth became evident to him, and the sense of accomplisment and relief normally carried with him for several hours after waking up, even if he could never actually remember anything he learned. But this time is different. Mal is well versed enough in the arcane and divine arts to know that sometimes dreams carry real meaning. And as he stares down at what he has been working on, he instinctively knows this bears some significance. Where normally he would have arcane formulas and theorems, he sees only "The One Who Stalks Behind" scrawled over and over again in his own hand, though the words are manic and look like they were written in distress. He searches the paper for any further omen, and down at the bottom of the page, in the smallest script he could possibly manage, it says Behind you!. Just as he is about to turn, a claw as strong as iron grips the side of his head, snaps his neck to the side, and ends all feeling in the bard's body. But he can still hear the deep throated growls, along with the wet noises of whatever killed him beginning to eat him alive. But he never gets to see it before the dream ends.

The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. RIGHT BEHIND YOU! The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind.

Spoiler: Bence's Secrets

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Spoiler: Bence's Journal

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...is a backwards plane, so far removed from the Prime Material that it has not seen an angel or the work of a god in a millennia. I hear that far to the west they do not even worship the gods. Proper savages, but I must remain vigilant, as their knowledge of the ways of this world is far more educated than most. But it is ripe for my conquest. While my Master was tasked with corrupting Avendor, my home plane, a bastion of good and law, my chore is simply to tip the rat into the bucket of the Abyss as it prowls the rim looking for cheese. This plane is already so flooded with the energies of the Abyss that demons spontaneously emerge, monsters manifest in the dark, and their weak leaders bargain with forces they would be wiser to repulse. It will be child's play to nudge it the last few inches into anarchy and destruction, mostly due to the efforts of Pale Night herself. For thousands of years she has been grasping and clawing at this realm, dragging it further from the light and closer to her realm day by day, inch by inch, soul by soul. While my home plane was beyond my ability to destroy, this place will be my masterpiece. With my death at the hands of the forces of good, a symphony of destruction will play the anthem to my ascension to demonhood. The Pale Mother has promised me that each death will bring me closer to my true form, and each rebirth will increase my power, just as our pact promised. I can't wait to die. When will the heroes arrive? I've been planting and tending the seed of the idea in the old giant's mind for weeks now. When will it bear fruit? When can my dark rise to power begin? (The rest is a combination of burned and Abyssal that becomes impossible to read)

Dam'ess- Mass Quasit Summoning. Magic Mouth to Levy Commands re: Retrieve Mirror of Leng, Scepter of Rulership, And Aniot's Cube. Disperse to Appropriate Parties Per The Plan. Burn The Cabin.

Harumburg- Sending to Lord of Bone re: Portal to the 113th. (Indecipherable Due to Burns) In Accordance with Their Great Alliance.

Falluneer- Sending to Lord of Flesh re: (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Ebon Spear.

(Indecipherable Due to Burns)light: Sending to Lord of Blood re: Assassination of (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Yukkot, Recovery of Blood (More Burns).

(Indecipherable Due to Burns)odge- Sending to Cult of Pale (More Burns) re: Initiate Divining Ritual Sacrifices. FIND THE DAMN ZIGGURAT.

Garrunrow- (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Kill the Last Bloodwolf. Recover (More Burns) Key.

Mountain of Smoke- (Indecipherable Due to Burns) crypt. Seize the Ebon (More Burns).

Sussoon- Ensure the Prophecy (Indecipherable Due to Burns)... Pay the Bounty Hunters to Find the Abydossian and the Princesses. re: Sacrifices of The Old Blood

(There is more, but seemingly out of paranoia Bence switched to Abyssal. It is impossible to tell how many lines there are, as the last half of the paper is fully burned away)

Spoiler: Arcane Lore concerning Bence's Notes

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The magic of Contingency is a nearly mythical bit of spell work that was said to be lost when the Library of Leng burned down. It allows a caster to prepare spells in advance for a predetermined event, in this case John Bence's own death, and the spells will automatically cast when the event happens. If Bence is capable of such sorcery, he is likely far more powerful than his flashy death at the party's hands would indicate.

The Mirror of Leng is a artifact of the Library of Leng, said to contain a frozen moment of time where the library was at it's height that a person can temporarily step in to, giving access to the greatest magical library this world has ever seen. Supposedly several mirrors were made, though some are confirmed destroyed after their use led to come calamity of forbidden magics long lost to time. The Scepter of Rulership is said to be an even more powerful version of a Rod of Rulership, a magic item that allows for mass mind manipulation of people to believe that the holder of the Scepter is their rightful ruler. The last time the Scepter was confirmed in play it toppled an entire nation.

Though numbering and organizing the layers of the Abyss is a fool's errand, there are some realms that are constant enough to designate. The one hundred and thirteenth layer is Thanatos, layer of Orcus, the Lord of Death. It is a lifeless frozen landscape where life is snuffed out almost as soon as it arrives, either by the untold legions of undead denizens, the magical aura of the layer itself, or, in the worst cases, by Orcus himself, using his fearsome Wand.

Spoiler: John Bence's Wall Art

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There are no invisible objects in the room, but the entire back wall of the cabin is plastered with profane runes and abyssal scribblings. Where there was nothing to the naked eye, there is an extensive patchwork of spell work, seemingly scribed in the rusted red of blood. More disturbing is the fragments of souls that have been bound to the wall. Faces of people rise and seethe from the wood like a strange and rippling tide, mouths open in anguish. There are not many of them left, presumably due to whatever spell was used here absorbing so much energy, but there is a fine layer of ectoplasm that would indicate that once there were dozens of soul fragments powering this spell. The sight turns Mal's stomach, as the chaotic, destructive magic of the Abyss is written as plainly as news script, but as subtly as any devil could manage.

Spoiler: Monsters

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Barlgura: Demon loosed by summoning ritual on the road to Dam'ess. Slain with its summoned partner by team. (Bless helped with accuracy issues due to invisibility. In the future, layer mind sliver to aid with saves.)
Brazen Hart: Spirit of the wild wood around Dam'ess. Seeks to test the party's mettle by forcing an open fight with the Barlgura.
Horror of Yurl: Shapeshifting kind of monster. Severs limbs, creates euphoria, and slays by consuming the liver. The newest variant flies...
Tree-house horror: elven make. Demon infested.

Spoiler: Instrument of the Bards

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Mal needs a translator, the spells, and woodcrafter to create a new relic.

Spoiler: Full Description

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Still, tucked among the primers and amateur books he finds a book that deals with the blending of magic and music. Specifically, it holds the instructions and rituals for a new version of the famed artifacts known as the instruments of the bards. Unfortunately, about a third of the book is in a language Mal does not understand or recognize, including most of the rites and rituals to imbue it with magic. Still, with a translator, appropriate magics, some study, and someone skilled in wood craft, he may be able to produce one of these relics for himself.

Report daily updates to Mistress Moira at last light.

**Spore** · 2021-09-09, 12:50 PM (ISO 8601)

Doctor Ignacius Madaras, Medicus Extravagant!
Gnome Artificer/Transmuter
AC: 18 HP: 21/32
PP: 11 PIv: 17 PIs: 11
Conditions: -
Concentration: -

Ignacius was not going to find another buyer for this highly specialized ware, and its undocumented uses were shakey at best. Pocketing the money, he smiles and ventures back to the magic shop, trading in one shakey thing for the next. Hey 'keep. I got a bit of honest coin here. he says as he deposits it onto the counter. Six hundred. For the faerie trick, the inks needed to test it, and the book. The gnome crosses his arms, he KNEW the offer was too good to pass for both parties.

Before the keep pockets the coin, he stops him. Only with a copy of any notes you made trying it out. Oh, and does it add a fitting drink to the meal?

**purepolarpanzer** · 2021-09-09, 09:18 PM (ISO 8601)

The Writ and the Raven

When Set compliments Nome, she simply bows, using her fingers to cover her face (though you would never know if she was actually blushing). If she noticed the Abydossian's shifting skin she either has the tact or the cunning not to mention it. "Your recognition is all the praise I need, my bronze skinned warrior friend. Then Selissa blurts out her thanks and runs from the room, and Nomcebo giggles, waving after her with her tail. Maledictus' toast is met with cheer by Nome and a flat denial by Ulu, whose features have become even more dispassionate and severe as she watches all of you fall under her Mistress' sway. When Mal declares that he intends to head for the library, Ulu nods and stands to go as well. Nomcebo takes on a pouty expression, but she waves at those who are leaving. "Don't stay out too long! And come back with the rest of your friends! I LOVE meeting new people..."

The Scribe's Shop

The gnome behind the counter grins and readily assembles the purchased materials, sealing the deal with a handshake. "Done and done!" He retreats to the rear of shop for a few moments before returning with some loose leaf notes. "I only experimented with the cooking book a bit, but here's what I was able to deduce. And yes, each meal manifests a drink to go with it- sometimes alcoholic, sometimes not."

Spoiler: Marvelous Melda's Musical Book that Really Cooks!

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1. Traveler's Stew- Devaney's Notes- Enhances Endurance
2. Bouillabaisse
3. Braised Beef Ribs
4. Roast Turkey with Sausage Stuffing
5. Hand Pies- Devaney's Notes- Enhances Healing
6. Skillet Fried Potatoes With Bacon and Onion
7. Buttermilk Biscuits with Sausage Gravy
8. Royal Onion Soup with Cheese and Toasted Baguette
9. Tavern "Steak"- Devaney's Notes- Vegetarian. Enhances spells and mystical abilities.
10. Feywild Eggs
11. High Harvest Puree
12. Drow Mushroom Steaks
13. Moon Sea Seafood and Rice- Devaney's Notes- Enhanced Athletic and Acrobatic Abilities
14. Spicy Garden Stew
15. Bangers and Smash
16. Tide-Me-Overs- Devaney's Notes- Keeps Well, Sustenance for Multiple Days
17. Miner's Pie
18. Porridge With Fruit Puree
19. Orange Mountain Duck
20. Halfling Community Cheese
21. Hog Logs and Baked Beans- Devaney's Notes- Gain a Gastric Attack
22. Honeyed Ham With Pineapple Gravy
23. Everything Soup
24. Toasted Cheese and Chunky Tomato Soup
25. Stuffed Egg-Battered Toast
26. Orc Candied Bacon- Devaney's Notes- Enhanced Might
27. First Layer Infernal Chicken Kebabs
28. Thrice Baked Chicken Wings
29. Lamb, Leek, and Potato Stew
30. Fried Catfish and Corn Fritters- Devaney's Notes- Water breathing Effect, Resistance to Cold
31. Tidbits, Odds, and Ends Platter

The University Library with Maus

The University of Harumburg occupies a sprawling campus, but the library is easy to find, as the paving stones of the district have directions to the various buildings carved into them. However, upon finding the hallowed halls, it becomes obvious that not all are welcome- a brawny looking man stands inside the doorway. When Mal approaches, he extends a hand and asks "Got yer card?" When Mal can't produce one, he begins to shake his head, but there is movement from further inside and Maus approaches, wearing comfortable looking robes. "He's my guest, Anolf. Him and a few others might be stopping by. Since I'm entitled to a dozen guests a year, and I haven't been here in nearly fifty years, I'd say my friends shouldn't have any trouble accessing the grounds." Anolf grunts and mutters "Alumni..." Before holding the door open for Maledictus.

Maus escorts any who come the rest of the way into the massive vault of a building. "This is the largest library in all the Vale. I basically lived here during my student days. If you need help finding anything you can ask a docent, but I'm more likely to know where things are than any scholarship first year." Maus already has three tomes tucked under his massive arms, and he settles down in a central reading area to dig into them.

Spoiler: OOC

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Anyone who wishes to spend time in the library may research 3 topics. I will need an intelligence check for each, and you can add your proficiency bonus if it relates to a skill you have proficiency in. An example would be-
Harumburg Sewer System- History Roll
Magical Spells- Arcana or Religion Roll
Rumored Locations of Moon Drakes- Nature Roll.

Tumbletown

Curel scoffs and nods at Selissa. "Threw a COBRA. Not a local snake. Lucky I'm skilled with a blade- I cut it into pieces before it came close to me, but only barely." When Selissa brings up Ol' Belcher, Conchita nods dourly. "Could be a darakhul. Could just be a dirty stinkin human. That's the scary thing about them. You don't know till they're chewin on you." When Selissa requests more detailed information, Cruel smiles her double grin. "Glad to have you on board, Betula. What inn you staying at? I'll send Darby by tomorrow with all the details and resources we can assemble. He's my number 2 man at this point- makes me feel I've got a god in my corner to have a holy man on my side, even if he's as big a bastard as Darby!" She laughs at her own joke, smacking Selissa on the back. "I'd stay longer and catch up with you, Betula, but last time I spent this long in one public place it caught fire. I'm going back to my palace, to gather that info and plan our own moves against this Sewer Rat. Be seein you soon, hopefully in better circumstances." With that said, Cruel salutes Selissa and leaves the room. Darby puts a cigar in his mouth and lights it with a tindertwig, waiting a few minutes before speaking up. "I'll escort you out. And I'll meet with you tomorrow with all the detes. Glad to be workin with a real professional. Here's hoping the rest of your crew is the same."

**Theophilus** · 2021-09-10, 05:00 PM (ISO 8601)

Mal
Levistus Tiefling Bard 5
AC: 14 HP: 41/41 (43/43) THP: 7/7
PP: 11 PIv: 13 PIs: 11
Spell Slots: 1st - 4/4 2nd - 1/3 3rd - 2/2
Fey Touched: 1st - 1/1 2nd - 1/1
Masquerade Tattoo: 1st - 0/1
Levistus Legacy: Armor of Agathys - 1/1 Darkness - 1/1
Bardic Inspiration: 4/4
Healer's Kit: 20/20
Mal Conditions: Praised into Health. Immune to poison frightened. Wisdom saving throws with advantage. Loki's Bane
Mal Concentrating: ---

Soreshu
Ancient Companion: Sage
Companion HP: 30/30 (32/32)
Companion AC: 16
Companion PP: 18 PIv: 12 PIs: 12
Sage's Counsel: While within 15 feet of the companion, you and your allies gain a +2 bonus to Intelligence and Wisdom checks.
Praised into Health. Immune to frightened. Wisdom saving throws with advantage

The Library

Mal gazed about the library and remarked, "It has the echo of Leng when viewed in a certain light."

Maledictus set to the tasks before him. His Order would prefer he rifle the repository for its eldritch secrets, but the tiefling knew this would take time. Instead, he constrained his efforts to the immediate and pertinent to the mission at hand. The bard first roved the library and found a quiet nook to produce his viol. The tiefling dismissed Diodorous with great reverence and recalled Soreshu the Sage for his assistance. Then the bard played a few soft notes, conceptualizing a skull. The chord hung about his mind as the arcana sifted whether the library kept one within range.

Then the scholar worked with brief consultations with Maus and his mentor to locate sources, mundane and mystical. Mal sought necromantic lore concerning the capital. He queried the annals for lists of rulers, civic leaders, masters of coin, and justiciars. Finally he pursued further augmentations to his own arcane repertoire. He hungered for primary sources, the closer to the points of reference the better. He chanted as he did, looming over the texts with his viol perched to focus his efforts. The songs he played clung about him like a pianissimo tapestry. His honed mind labored at the efforts, fueled by Nome's enchanting praise and his own tools for swift memorization.

Spoiler: OOC

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Mal will swap the Healer for the Sage as he transitions to the library. He will utilize the following spells:
-Ritually cast Comprehend Languages to read books
-Locate Object to find a skull(s) in the library
-Enhance Ability (Intelligence) to gain advantage on his research
-Speak with Dead if he locates a noteworthy skull that he can consult.

Areas of Research:
- Religious orders and necromantic lore concerning undead encounters within the Capital (assumed Religion): 22 Discord
- Historical figures within capital to look for potential aberrations in its successions, especially if someone looks strikingly identical to personages throughout history: 19 Discord
- Arcane research into tools or spells to further augment his arcane abilities (e.g. tools to add or enhance his spellcasting, such as the bardic instruments or staves of power.): 21 Discord

Spoiler: Mal's Notes

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Spoiler: Cast and Crew

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Set: ~~outcast~~ exiled princeling of Abydos. Two princess sisters (Sisi and Sythpen Al-Sayyid). Romantic connection for Moira?
Selissa: Blighted or reconstructed wood elf? Purported Scout.
Vargath: Afflicted Lycanthrope seeking to suspend his curse. A Bloodwolf?
Mandaras: Rival to Dr. Fixer.
Dr. Fixer: Moira's lieutenant and cultivates relations with the locals of Vale.
Elder Maus: Seeks to kill Moira. Hired mercenaries who betrayed him.
--Healed to his full 9ft height.
--Disbelieves Moira's insights; seeks to end her directly or indirectly.
--Seeks us to verify the truths of Moira's claims--or stop her by any means necessary.
Maulei: Successor to Elder Maus as elder of Dam'ess.
Uluthando Mikoso "Ulu:" Paladin? of Order. From beyond the Vale. Reacts by gripping her dagger and declaring Tieflings are treated differently...Lawful (N/E?) Order? Calls Mal 'Mdala Ohlonishwayo.' Professes to serve no god, but spirits whose reach may be weaker in the Vale than elsewhere.
Nomcebo: Ulu's handler. Ink skinned tiefling with prehensile tail and an obvious allure.
Kagiso: Ulu's slave and carriage driver.

Spoiler: Dream of Leng

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Spoiler: In Full

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Mal has had this dream before. He finds himself in the legendary Library of Leng, an ancient home of virtually all worldly and mystical knowledge that burned when the city it was located in was razed nearly nine hundred years ago, half the world away. Still, in his dreams it still existed, and these dreams always played out the same. Hours of dutiful research, referencing and cross referencing sources from multiple tomes, carefully reconstructing ancient languages, until EUREKA! Some devastating and profound arcane truth became evident to him, and the sense of accomplisment and relief normally carried with him for several hours after waking up, even if he could never actually remember anything he learned. But this time is different. Mal is well versed enough in the arcane and divine arts to know that sometimes dreams carry real meaning. And as he stares down at what he has been working on, he instinctively knows this bears some significance. Where normally he would have arcane formulas and theorems, he sees only "The One Who Stalks Behind" scrawled over and over again in his own hand, though the words are manic and look like they were written in distress. He searches the paper for any further omen, and down at the bottom of the page, in the smallest script he could possibly manage, it says Behind you!. Just as he is about to turn, a claw as strong as iron grips the side of his head, snaps his neck to the side, and ends all feeling in the bard's body. But he can still hear the deep throated growls, along with the wet noises of whatever killed him beginning to eat him alive. But he never gets to see it before the dream ends.

The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. RIGHT BEHIND YOU! The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind.

Spoiler: Bence's Secrets

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Spoiler: Bence's Journal

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...is a backwards plane, so far removed from the Prime Material that it has not seen an angel or the work of a god in a millennia. I hear that far to the west they do not even worship the gods. Proper savages, but I must remain vigilant, as their knowledge of the ways of this world is far more educated than most. But it is ripe for my conquest. While my Master was tasked with corrupting Avendor, my home plane, a bastion of good and law, my chore is simply to tip the rat into the bucket of the Abyss as it prowls the rim looking for cheese. This plane is already so flooded with the energies of the Abyss that demons spontaneously emerge, monsters manifest in the dark, and their weak leaders bargain with forces they would be wiser to repulse. It will be child's play to nudge it the last few inches into anarchy and destruction, mostly due to the efforts of Pale Night herself. For thousands of years she has been grasping and clawing at this realm, dragging it further from the light and closer to her realm day by day, inch by inch, soul by soul. While my home plane was beyond my ability to destroy, this place will be my masterpiece. With my death at the hands of the forces of good, a symphony of destruction will play the anthem to my ascension to demonhood. The Pale Mother has promised me that each death will bring me closer to my true form, and each rebirth will increase my power, just as our pact promised. I can't wait to die. When will the heroes arrive? I've been planting and tending the seed of the idea in the old giant's mind for weeks now. When will it bear fruit? When can my dark rise to power begin? (The rest is a combination of burned and Abyssal that becomes impossible to read)

Dam'ess- Mass Quasit Summoning. Magic Mouth to Levy Commands re: Retrieve Mirror of Leng, Scepter of Rulership, And Aniot's Cube. Disperse to Appropriate Parties Per The Plan. Burn The Cabin.

Harumburg- Sending to Lord of Bone re: Portal to the 113th. (Indecipherable Due to Burns) In Accordance with Their Great Alliance.

Falluneer- Sending to Lord of Flesh re: (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Ebon Spear.

(Indecipherable Due to Burns)light: Sending to Lord of Blood re: Assassination of (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Yukkot, Recovery of Blood (More Burns).

(Indecipherable Due to Burns)odge- Sending to Cult of Pale (More Burns) re: Initiate Divining Ritual Sacrifices. FIND THE DAMN ZIGGURAT.

Garrunrow- (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Kill the Last Bloodwolf. Recover (More Burns) Key.

Mountain of Smoke- (Indecipherable Due to Burns) crypt. Seize the Ebon (More Burns).

Sussoon- Ensure the Prophecy (Indecipherable Due to Burns)... Pay the Bounty Hunters to Find the Abydossian and the Princesses. re: Sacrifices of The Old Blood

(There is more, but seemingly out of paranoia Bence switched to Abyssal. It is impossible to tell how many lines there are, as the last half of the paper is fully burned away)

Spoiler: Arcane Lore concerning Bence's Notes

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The magic of Contingency is a nearly mythical bit of spell work that was said to be lost when the Library of Leng burned down. It allows a caster to prepare spells in advance for a predetermined event, in this case John Bence's own death, and the spells will automatically cast when the event happens. If Bence is capable of such sorcery, he is likely far more powerful than his flashy death at the party's hands would indicate.

The Mirror of Leng is a artifact of the Library of Leng, said to contain a frozen moment of time where the library was at it's height that a person can temporarily step in to, giving access to the greatest magical library this world has ever seen. Supposedly several mirrors were made, though some are confirmed destroyed after their use led to come calamity of forbidden magics long lost to time. The Scepter of Rulership is said to be an even more powerful version of a Rod of Rulership, a magic item that allows for mass mind manipulation of people to believe that the holder of the Scepter is their rightful ruler. The last time the Scepter was confirmed in play it toppled an entire nation.

Though numbering and organizing the layers of the Abyss is a fool's errand, there are some realms that are constant enough to designate. The one hundred and thirteenth layer is Thanatos, layer of Orcus, the Lord of Death. It is a lifeless frozen landscape where life is snuffed out almost as soon as it arrives, either by the untold legions of undead denizens, the magical aura of the layer itself, or, in the worst cases, by Orcus himself, using his fearsome Wand.

Spoiler: John Bence's Wall Art

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There are no invisible objects in the room, but the entire back wall of the cabin is plastered with profane runes and abyssal scribblings. Where there was nothing to the naked eye, there is an extensive patchwork of spell work, seemingly scribed in the rusted red of blood. More disturbing is the fragments of souls that have been bound to the wall. Faces of people rise and seethe from the wood like a strange and rippling tide, mouths open in anguish. There are not many of them left, presumably due to whatever spell was used here absorbing so much energy, but there is a fine layer of ectoplasm that would indicate that once there were dozens of soul fragments powering this spell. The sight turns Mal's stomach, as the chaotic, destructive magic of the Abyss is written as plainly as news script, but as subtly as any devil could manage.

Spoiler: Monsters

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Barlgura: Demon loosed by summoning ritual on the road to Dam'ess. Slain with its summoned partner by team. (Bless helped with accuracy issues due to invisibility. In the future, layer mind sliver to aid with saves.)
Brazen Hart: Spirit of the wild wood around Dam'ess. Seeks to test the party's mettle by forcing an open fight with the Barlgura.
Horror of Yurl: Shapeshifting kind of monster. Severs limbs, creates euphoria, and slays by consuming the liver. The newest variant flies...
Tree-house horror: elven make. Demon infested.

Spoiler: Instrument of the Bards

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Mal needs a translator, the spells, and woodcrafter to create a new relic.

Spoiler: Full Description

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Still, tucked among the primers and amateur books he finds a book that deals with the blending of magic and music. Specifically, it holds the instructions and rituals for a new version of the famed artifacts known as the instruments of the bards. Unfortunately, about a third of the book is in a language Mal does not understand or recognize, including most of the rites and rituals to imbue it with magic. Still, with a translator, appropriate magics, some study, and someone skilled in wood craft, he may be able to produce one of these relics for himself.

Report daily updates to Mistress Moira at last light.

**Riggdgames** · 2021-09-11, 08:49 PM (ISO 8601)

Set Al-Sayyid
Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
AC: 17 HP: 41/41 (43/43) THP1: 11/11
PP: 12 PIv: 13 PIs: 9
Conditions: Diodorus' Healing Light, Nome's Hero's Feast
Concentration:

Set can't help feeling lighter as they leave the Writ and the Raven, regardless of whether Nome had seen him shift shapes. She understands, that much is clear. She'd seen through to Set's core and genuinely been pleased by what she'd found, sharing his deeds in their purest form. Set's smile lasts all the way to the library until his thoughts finally turn away from Nome's praise.

Though Set is familiar with the royal library in Abydos, he'd had little passion for spending the day confined to a desk. When he sought a quiet place to think, he was more likely to grab his spear and step into the desert sands than he was to find a nook in the library. Life had been simpler then. He'd been free to pursue anything he'd liked, free of all responsibility.

Pale Night. Gruumsh. Angels and demons. Ebonstone. Set takes in row upon row of bookshelves, overwhelmed by all the things he doesn't know and wondering if he'll even be able to find half of what he seeks. As Maus grants them entry Set begrudgingly follows, finding a focus for his research to start with. If they were to prove Moira right and Maus wrong, it would be beneath the city. He starts by looking into histories of the city's foundations and its sewers. Set's focus, however, proves transient. He moves on, seeking to better understand ebonstone, Ebon Keys, and anything he can find on the ziggurat. Eventually he moves on to the study of gods and demons, including Pale Night, Gruumsh, or Darkest. Any volumes that elaborate on who they are, what they seek, or the struggles between varying demons and gods. By the time Set is rounding out his studies, he's pacing back and forth with a book in hand rather than sitting still.

Spoiler: OOC

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Staying close to Soreshu if possible for the +2 bonus and studying the following:

-Sewer system history: (1d20+2)[17] History
-Ebonstone (artifacts, keys, ziggurat, spear, whatever Set can find): (1d20+2)[3] Arcana
-Pale Night, Gruumsh, Darkest (any info at all, conflict among gods and demons): (1d20+2)[15] Religion

**Awful** · 2021-09-12, 06:00 PM (ISO 8601)

Selissa Betula
Wood Elf Scout Rogue
AC: 16 HP: 38/38->40/40 THP: 7
PP: 16
Conditions:
Concentrating: --

Tumbletown

Selissa bid Cruel farewell with a tight nod.
"Careful of snakes."

Was that a joke? Unlikely, one might think; the stoic wood elf was not known for her humour (indeed, once Jonath had said she must be a wood elf because she must have a stick up her-)

At Darby's last comment, Selissa kept a neutral expression.

"They are... what we have," Selissa finally said, aiming for neutrality and incidentally damning through faint praise. "Good at fighting, at least."

She was quiet for a moment longer before she let out another small sigh.
"Staying at Writ and Raven with devilblood named Nomcebo. Will meet you outside at first light. Probably easiest. Will be going into sewers after, I think." ---

That Evening, at the Writ and Raven.

That night, when they'd all gathered, Selissa revealed the knowledge she'd learned.

"Definitely undead below," she said. Her tone was flat and undistracted by any memories of dancing tieflings; this was business talk - life or death for their profession. "Talked to some people I know. Thieves. Used the tunnels. Can't, now. Someone named the Sewer Lord using ghouls, ghasts, darakhuls. Last one the worst. Can disguise as living and hypnotise, apparently. Can't tell until they reveal. Smells too bad to fight against properly. Must be smart. Troublesome."
She looked between the others.
"Never fought darakhul. Don't know about them. Be prepared. Ghouls like ambushing. Claws can paralyse. Not fought ghasts, but hear they're like ghouls but stronger."

**purepolarpanzer** · 2021-09-12, 10:36 PM (ISO 8601)

In the Grand Library of the University of Harumburg

Mal's rigorous regimen of spells go unaccosted by any of the scholars passing back and forth through the shelves, as though such things were expected. He even finds an entire wing of the library filled with alcoves where skulls reside, each on labelled with the name of the scholar, a quote from them, and the dates that they lived. Mal sees another scholar openly conversing with a skull while consulting a tome, so no one bats an eye when Mal retrieves one for himself. He finds himself conversing with the spirit of High Docent Half Toden, a scholar from a century ago who loved the library so much that he donated his skull to serve as a guide to others. He proves to be eager to help, and remarkably insightful.

Spoiler: Mal's Areas of Study

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Religion- There has been a near constant history of undead in and around the capital of Harumsvale. It seems like every three to five decades or so some priest or paladin of Harum organizes a purge that "purifies" a coven of vampire spawn, a hidden necromancer, or a ghoul nest. But it seems to Mal (and to High Docent Toden) that this always treats the outward symptoms without handling the cause. Vampire spawn are rooted out, but rarely is a true vampire found. Students at the university are found to be dabbling in the forbidden arts, but no one ever catches the teacher who revealed such secrets to them. And each time a nest of ghouls is rooted out there is often a new infection there within a century. Half gives Mal an anecdote about one building in the industrial district being raided three times within his lifetime.

History- Docent Toden cannot corroborate much in this area of research, but Mal does find several portraits that bear an astounding resemblance to Grand Arbiter Myrus Malkaav, each of them depicting some variety of civil servant or noble position with roughly eighty years between them. When Post Master Geller Rell passes away from a wasting disease, eight decades or so later Chief Accountant Daedren Gastaf, who has the same severe eyes, hooked nose, and pale skin but a different haircut, takes his position a serves with merited distinction. There is a general trend in these dopplegangers to rise in the ranks of the government over the centuries, and Mal finds records dating back nearly a thousand years.

Arcana- High Docent Half Toden directs Mal to a specific scroll on a specific shelf in a specific wing when pressed on this subject. He seems... oddly insistent... actually. It turns out to be a book of songs, actually, and one of them is penned by none other than High Docent Half Toden.

Lo, behold the works of the Maker of Things,
Wands, staves, instruments, wonders, and rings,
His traveling cart rolls from town to town
And trades mystical wonders for enough coins to drown
Sometimes human, sometimes dwarf, sometimes gnome,
He claims fate calls him, binds him, and keeps him from home
He forged Harum's hammer that split the Eternal Rock
Tinkered Trelmari's picks which defeat any Lock
He defies time and age, but one note rings true
Find one of Harum's adamant coins and he will find you.

Set's studies are more frenetic in nature.

Spoiler: Set's Studies

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He finds an old diagram of the sewer system, but it dates from the system's construction three hundred years ago, so it is likely out of date. He also finds references in a journal of the main engineer of the project that the entire thing is connected to an extensive natural cave system. When the Abydossian looks into Ebonstone, he can't seem to find one bloody book on the subject. He doesn't look for very long, however, before a small book catches his eye. It turns out to be the journal of a scholar who spent three years living among the orc tribes of the Varenka Hills, studying their culture. He describes an entire pantheon of racial gods, and openly states that some orcs worship some of them while ignoring others, but all orcs acknowledge that Gruumsh One Eye is the father of their species. He also dictates that orcs kill elves wherever he finds them. There are several theories about this blood feud, ranging from an elvish god taking Gruumsh's eye to orc's jealousy of the elvish lifespan, but all followers of Gruumsh have open enmity of elves in his name.

Set finds nothing on the subject of Darkest, perhaps because it is a vague nickname claimed by many higher powers. The absence of information on Pale Night is even more eerily complete. It almost seems as if she has been censored or removed from the library intentionally.

**Riggdgames** · 2021-09-14, 08:52 PM (ISO 8601)

Set Al-Sayyid
Changeling Fighter/Hexblade
AC: 17 HP: 41/41 (43/43) THP1: 11/11
PP: 12 PIv: 13 PIs: 9
Conditions: Diodorus' Healing Light, Nome's Hero's Feast
Concentration:

In the Grand Library of the University of Harumburg

"Pardon, Mal," Set says, eyes darting back and forth between the lucid skull, Soreshu, and the tiefling. "Do you have some parchment I could use, and a quill?" Set briefly explains his purpose, sharing the diagram of the sewers, out of date though it might be. "I'd like to copy it." Set bites his cheek, fighting down the memory of ripping a page from Moira's book at the Shadowkeeper's urging.

Turning away with parchment in hand, Set pauses and turns back briefly. "Soreshu, would you compare the two versions when I'm done?" Set glances over at Mal as if checking to see that he hasn't overstepped before holding up the quill awkwardly. "I can scribble a bit, but I'm better with a spear."

That Evening, at the Writ and Raven

Set listens carefully, rolling the coin over his knuckles as Selissa describes the fruits of her labor. "You trust them?" He'd never fought ghouls or ghasts, much less darakhuls, but at least Evergreen knew their capabilities. "They did not mention vampires, then? Perhaps they're all in the city-proper like the Grand Arbiter, or maybe they reside deeper into the caves where your sources haven't been?"

Set plucks a rolled parchment from inside his robes and flattens it out in front of the group, leaving the coin on one side to weigh it down and holding the other. "Courtesy of the library," Set says, nodding his thanks to Soreshu for aiding him. "There's a system of caves not shown and the original diagram is some 300 years old, but these are the main lines of the sewer here," Set says, drawing his finger over the crude map. "Better than nothing, unless one of your contacts can serve as a guide."

**Theophilus** · 2021-09-14, 08:53 PM (ISO 8601)

Mal
Levistus Tiefling Bard 5
AC: 14 HP: 41/41 (43/43) THP: 7/7
PP: 11 PIv: 13 PIs: 11
Spell Slots: 1st - 4/4 2nd - 1/3 3rd - 2/2
Fey Touched: 1st - 1/1 2nd - 1/1
Masquerade Tattoo: 1st - 0/1
Levistus Legacy: Armor of Agathys - 1/1 Darkness - 1/1
Bardic Inspiration: 4/4
Healer's Kit: 20/20
Mal Conditions: Praised into Health. Immune to poison frightened. Wisdom saving throws with advantage. Loki's Bane
Mal Concentrating: ---

Soreshu
Ancient Companion: Sage
Companion HP: 30/30 (32/32)
Companion AC: 16
Companion PP: 18 PIv: 12 PIs: 12
Sage's Counsel: While within 15 feet of the companion, you and your allies gain a +2 bonus to Intelligence and Wisdom checks.
Praised into Health. Immune to frightened. Wisdom saving throws with advantage

The Library

Maledictus worked swiftly with his enigmatic tutor, eager to discern what secrets the gracious donor would yield. He penned with fiendish haste like a scribe of Titivillus, albeit with utmost accuracy. Thus, the tiefling composed a series of sheafs, the last of which he appended into the back of a book concerning bardic instruments. He drew his violin and played a tune, straining his ears to hear a resonant response. Instead, the air hung dead around him, his docent quiet, and his learning concluded.

Turning toward Soreshu, the bard remarked, "We begin to build our case to house a beautiful instrument."

A thin fissure of a smile creased the corner of the statue's mouth at his ward's wordplay.

When Set set about his requests, the scholar produced a second vial, a sheaf, and nodded. He answered, "Mar Soreshu had the finest calligraphy in the College in his lifetime. The conduits do have limitations, finesse being one."

"Yet, I still know how to teach," interjected the statue. "I would gladly give a new pupil the opportunity to refine his art."

Nome's Suite

When Maledictus arrived within the suite, he breathed in the air as though to inhale the echoes of Nome's praise. He then drained a couple glasses of liquor, reveling in the devilish resilience his body showed toward inebriation. He began to play upon his viol a few winsome tunes, to soften the air as he brooded over the secrets that began to stir in the corners of his mind. Harumburg might indeed hold a vampiric lair, and he would be plumbing its periphery shortly.

Upon Selissa's arrival and verbose (for her) insights into what lay ahead. The tiefling stowed his viol, rose from the deep cushions that embraced him tenderly, and quaffed a decanter of spirits. He then stated in his normal crisp manner, "Darakhul are no trifling ghoul. They value precision and discipline, forming units to hunt, to overwhelm, to...recruit. Some beyond the Vale even fancy themselves an Imperium. If the rumors below are genuine, then I would wager an adamantine coin these chosen of Doresain have a new hunger for Harumvale. I agree that efficiency and coordination would do us well. They can marshall their lesser kin into cohorts."

The scholar considered a moment and then added, raising a brandy snifter, "If the darakhul seek an alliance with vampires, we have a situation on our hands. The former make a cunning screen to ensure the latter's sanctuaries remain secure from prying eyes."

Spoiler: OOC

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Mal will swap the Healer for the Sage as he transitions to the library. He will utilize the following spells:
-Ritually cast Comprehend Languages to read books
-Locate Object to find a skull(s) in the library
-Enhance Ability (Intelligence) to gain advantage on his research
-Speak with Dead if he locates a noteworthy skull that he can consult.

Areas of Research:
- Religious orders and necromantic lore concerning undead encounters within the Capital (assumed Religion): 22 Discord
- Historical figures within capital to look for potential aberrations in its successions, especially if someone looks strikingly identical to personages throughout history: 19 Discord
- Arcane research into tools or spells to further augment his arcane abilities (e.g. tools to add or enhance his spellcasting, such as the bardic instruments or staves of power.): 21 Discord

Spoiler: Mal's Notes

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Spoiler: Cast and Crew

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Set: ~~outcast~~ exiled princeling of Abydos. Two princess sisters (Sisi and Sythpen Al-Sayyid). Romantic connection for Moira?
Selissa: Blighted or reconstructed wood elf? Purported Scout.
Vargath: Afflicted Lycanthrope seeking to suspend his curse. A Bloodwolf?
Mandaras: Rival to Dr. Fixer.
Dr. Fixer: Moira's lieutenant and cultivates relations with the locals of Vale.
Elder Maus: Seeks to kill Moira. Hired mercenaries who betrayed him.
--Healed to his full 9ft height.
--Disbelieves Moira's insights; seeks to end her directly or indirectly.
--Seeks us to verify the truths of Moira's claims--or stop her by any means necessary.
Maulei: Successor to Elder Maus as elder of Dam'ess.
Uluthando Mikoso "Ulu:" Paladin? of Order. From beyond the Vale. Reacts by gripping her dagger and declaring Tieflings are treated differently...Lawful (N/E?) Order? Calls Mal 'Mdala Ohlonishwayo.' Professes to serve no god, but spirits whose reach may be weaker in the Vale than elsewhere.
Nomcebo: Ulu's handler. Ink skinned tiefling with prehensile tail and an obvious allure.
Kagiso: Ulu's slave and carriage driver.

Spoiler: Dream of Leng

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Spoiler: In Full

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Mal has had this dream before. He finds himself in the legendary Library of Leng, an ancient home of virtually all worldly and mystical knowledge that burned when the city it was located in was razed nearly nine hundred years ago, half the world away. Still, in his dreams it still existed, and these dreams always played out the same. Hours of dutiful research, referencing and cross referencing sources from multiple tomes, carefully reconstructing ancient languages, until EUREKA! Some devastating and profound arcane truth became evident to him, and the sense of accomplisment and relief normally carried with him for several hours after waking up, even if he could never actually remember anything he learned. But this time is different. Mal is well versed enough in the arcane and divine arts to know that sometimes dreams carry real meaning. And as he stares down at what he has been working on, he instinctively knows this bears some significance. Where normally he would have arcane formulas and theorems, he sees only "The One Who Stalks Behind" scrawled over and over again in his own hand, though the words are manic and look like they were written in distress. He searches the paper for any further omen, and down at the bottom of the page, in the smallest script he could possibly manage, it says Behind you!. Just as he is about to turn, a claw as strong as iron grips the side of his head, snaps his neck to the side, and ends all feeling in the bard's body. But he can still hear the deep throated growls, along with the wet noises of whatever killed him beginning to eat him alive. But he never gets to see it before the dream ends.

The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. RIGHT BEHIND YOU! The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind. The One Who Stalks Behind.

Spoiler: Bence's Secrets

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Spoiler: Bence's Journal

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...is a backwards plane, so far removed from the Prime Material that it has not seen an angel or the work of a god in a millennia. I hear that far to the west they do not even worship the gods. Proper savages, but I must remain vigilant, as their knowledge of the ways of this world is far more educated than most. But it is ripe for my conquest. While my Master was tasked with corrupting Avendor, my home plane, a bastion of good and law, my chore is simply to tip the rat into the bucket of the Abyss as it prowls the rim looking for cheese. This plane is already so flooded with the energies of the Abyss that demons spontaneously emerge, monsters manifest in the dark, and their weak leaders bargain with forces they would be wiser to repulse. It will be child's play to nudge it the last few inches into anarchy and destruction, mostly due to the efforts of Pale Night herself. For thousands of years she has been grasping and clawing at this realm, dragging it further from the light and closer to her realm day by day, inch by inch, soul by soul. While my home plane was beyond my ability to destroy, this place will be my masterpiece. With my death at the hands of the forces of good, a symphony of destruction will play the anthem to my ascension to demonhood. The Pale Mother has promised me that each death will bring me closer to my true form, and each rebirth will increase my power, just as our pact promised. I can't wait to die. When will the heroes arrive? I've been planting and tending the seed of the idea in the old giant's mind for weeks now. When will it bear fruit? When can my dark rise to power begin? (The rest is a combination of burned and Abyssal that becomes impossible to read)

Dam'ess- Mass Quasit Summoning. Magic Mouth to Levy Commands re: Retrieve Mirror of Leng, Scepter of Rulership, And Aniot's Cube. Disperse to Appropriate Parties Per The Plan. Burn The Cabin.

Harumburg- Sending to Lord of Bone re: Portal to the 113th. (Indecipherable Due to Burns) In Accordance with Their Great Alliance.

Falluneer- Sending to Lord of Flesh re: (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Ebon Spear.

(Indecipherable Due to Burns)light: Sending to Lord of Blood re: Assassination of (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Yukkot, Recovery of Blood (More Burns).

(Indecipherable Due to Burns)odge- Sending to Cult of Pale (More Burns) re: Initiate Divining Ritual Sacrifices. FIND THE DAMN ZIGGURAT.

Garrunrow- (Indecipherable Due to Burns) Kill the Last Bloodwolf. Recover (More Burns) Key.

Mountain of Smoke- (Indecipherable Due to Burns) crypt. Seize the Ebon (More Burns).

Sussoon- Ensure the Prophecy (Indecipherable Due to Burns)... Pay the Bounty Hunters to Find the Abydossian and the Princesses. re: Sacrifices of The Old Blood

(There is more, but seemingly out of paranoia Bence switched to Abyssal. It is impossible to tell how many lines there are, as the last half of the paper is fully burned away)

Spoiler: Arcane Lore concerning Bence's Notes

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The magic of Contingency is a nearly mythical bit of spell work that was said to be lost when the Library of Leng burned down. It allows a caster to prepare spells in advance for a predetermined event, in this case John Bence's own death, and the spells will automatically cast when the event happens. If Bence is capable of such sorcery, he is likely far more powerful than his flashy death at the party's hands would indicate.

The Mirror of Leng is a artifact of the Library of Leng, said to contain a frozen moment of time where the library was at it's height that a person can temporarily step in to, giving access to the greatest magical library this world has ever seen. Supposedly several mirrors were made, though some are confirmed destroyed after their use led to come calamity of forbidden magics long lost to time. The Scepter of Rulership is said to be an even more powerful version of a Rod of Rulership, a magic item that allows for mass mind manipulation of people to believe that the holder of the Scepter is their rightful ruler. The last time the Scepter was confirmed in play it toppled an entire nation.

Though numbering and organizing the layers of the Abyss is a fool's errand, there are some realms that are constant enough to designate. The one hundred and thirteenth layer is Thanatos, layer of Orcus, the Lord of Death. It is a lifeless frozen landscape where life is snuffed out almost as soon as it arrives, either by the untold legions of undead denizens, the magical aura of the layer itself, or, in the worst cases, by Orcus himself, using his fearsome Wand.

Spoiler: John Bence's Wall Art

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There are no invisible objects in the room, but the entire back wall of the cabin is plastered with profane runes and abyssal scribblings. Where there was nothing to the naked eye, there is an extensive patchwork of spell work, seemingly scribed in the rusted red of blood. More disturbing is the fragments of souls that have been bound to the wall. Faces of people rise and seethe from the wood like a strange and rippling tide, mouths open in anguish. There are not many of them left, presumably due to whatever spell was used here absorbing so much energy, but there is a fine layer of ectoplasm that would indicate that once there were dozens of soul fragments powering this spell. The sight turns Mal's stomach, as the chaotic, destructive magic of the Abyss is written as plainly as news script, but as subtly as any devil could manage.

Spoiler: Monsters

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Barlgura: Demon loosed by summoning ritual on the road to Dam'ess. Slain with its summoned partner by team. (Bless helped with accuracy issues due to invisibility. In the future, layer mind sliver to aid with saves.)
Brazen Hart: Spirit of the wild wood around Dam'ess. Seeks to test the party's mettle by forcing an open fight with the Barlgura.
Horror of Yurl: Shapeshifting kind of monster. Severs limbs, creates euphoria, and slays by consuming the liver. The newest variant flies...
Tree-house horror: elven make. Demon infested. Extremely rare creation.

The presence of the so-called "evolved" ghouls is troublesome. Said to be the chosen of Doresain the Ghoul King, Darakhuls are more motivated, more intelligent, and leagues more dangerous than their lesser kin. They have a subterranean empire on the other side of the continent, and their attempts to bring their Imperium to the surface have only narrowly been thwarted by the actions of great heroes and dedicated rulers. If Darakhuls have come to Harumvale, then the eyes of the Ghoul King have turned in this direction, and things truly are worse than imagined. Darakhul have a mystical connection to lesser ghouls and ghasts that enhances their intelligence and discipline when the evolved ghouls are present, turning them from hungry predators to a military unit.

Spoiler: Instrument of the Bards

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Mal needs a translator, the spells, and woodcrafter to create a new relic.

Spoiler: Full Description

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Still, tucked among the primers and amateur books he finds a book that deals with the blending of magic and music. Specifically, it holds the instructions and rituals for a new version of the famed artifacts known as the instruments of the bards. Unfortunately, about a third of the book is in a language Mal does not understand or recognize, including most of the rites and rituals to imbue it with magic. Still, with a translator, appropriate magics, some study, and someone skilled in wood craft, he may be able to produce one of these relics for himself.

Spoiler: Half Troden Bardic Instrument Key

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Arcana- High Docent Half Toden directs Mal to a specific scroll on a specific shelf in a specific wing when pressed on this subject. He seems... oddly insistent... actually. It turns out to be a book of songs, actually, and one of them is penned by none other than High Docent Half Toden.

Lo, behold the works of the Maker of Things,
Wands, staves, instruments, wonders, and rings,
His traveling cart rolls from town to town
And trades mystical wonders for enough coins to drown
Sometimes human, sometimes dwarf, sometimes gnome,
He claims fate calls him, binds him, and keeps him from home
He forged Harum's hammer that split the Eternal Rock
Tinkered Trelmari's picks which defeat any Lock
He defies time and age, but one note rings true
Find one of Harum's adamant coins and he will find you.

Spoiler: Harumburg Library Lore

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Religion- There has been a near constant history of undead in and around the capital of Harumsvale. It seems like every three to five decades or so some priest or paladin of Harum organizes a purge that "purifies" a coven of vampire spawn, a hidden necromancer, or a ghoul nest. But it seems to Mal (and to High Docent Toden) that this always treats the outward symptoms without handling the cause. Vampire spawn are rooted out, but rarely is a true vampire found. Students at the university are found to be dabbling in the forbidden arts, but no one ever catches the teacher who revealed such secrets to them. And each time a nest of ghouls is rooted out there is often a new infection there within a century. Half gives Mal an anecdote about one building in the industrial district being raided three times within his lifetime.

History- Docent Toden cannot corroborate much in this area of research, but Mal does find several portraits that bear an astounding resemblance to Grand Arbiter Myrus Malkaav, each of them depicting some variety of civil servant or noble position with roughly eighty years between them. When Post Master Geller Rell passes away from a wasting disease, eight decades or so later Chief Accountant Daedren Gastaf, who has the same severe eyes, hooked nose, and pale skin but a different haircut, takes his position a serves with merited distinction. There is a general trend in these dopplegangers to rise in the ranks of the government over the centuries, and Mal finds records dating back nearly a thousand years.

Report daily updates to Mistress Moira at last light.

**purepolarpanzer** · 2021-09-14, 09:23 PM (ISO 8601)

Spoiler: 24 Religion Check on Darakhuls

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The presence of the so-called "evolved" ghouls is troublesome. Said to be the chosen of Doresain the Ghoul King, Darakhuls are more motivated, more intelligent, and leagues more dangerous than their lesser kin. They have a subterranean empire on the other side of the continent, and their attempts to bring their Imperium to the surface have only narrowly been thwarted by the actions of great heroes and dedicated rulers. If Darakhuls have come to Harumvale, then the eyes of the Ghoul King have turned in this direction, and things truly are worse than imagined. Darakhul have a mystical connection to lesser ghouls and ghasts that enhances their intelligence and discipline when the evolved ghouls are present, turning them from hungry predators to a military unit.

**Awful** · 2021-09-17, 11:07 AM (ISO 8601)

Selissa Betula
Wood Elf Scout Rogue
AC: 16 HP: 38/38->40/40 THP: 7
PP: 16
Conditions:
Concentrating: --

That Evening, at the Writ and Raven.

Selissa angled her head in thought, then slowly gave a single nod to Set's question.

"Generally, no. Would with this. Need to help us," she said slowly. "Leeches might be further in. Not roaming dung tunnels."
She looked at the map, carefully, and placed a pomander to weigh down one of the other corners.
"Might be brought a map tomorrow with unofficial tunnels on. No guide. Dubt they want to step in tunnels until ghouls dealt with. Bought herbs to burn. Help against the smell. Bites, on your own."

**purepolarpanzer** · 2021-09-17, 07:22 PM (ISO 8601)

Nomcebo's Suite- The Writ and the Raven

"My time in the library was spent on researching magic that could aid us." Maus removes a scroll from his pouch and gives it a shake with a triumphant hand. "This ritual will hide us from the senses of any undead we encounter. Some with stronger minds may be able to spot us, but the rabble won't notice us until we've got the jump on them. The invisibility fades if we commit violence, but I can resume the magic once battle has passed." Nome gives a short bark of laughter. "Pah! A weak spell! I have something better than that. I can bestow a charm on Ulu that will lead the undead to believe you are one of them! Again, more perceptive rotters might see through it, but only if they actually touch you or you wound them. What better to infiltrate the underbelly of this city than for your foes to believe you an ally?" Maus flushes a moment, looking uncertain, before retorting. "I'd like to study this charm before it is used. It is not that I don't trust you, Lady Nome, but such a powerful magic usually comes at some cost in my experience." Nome idly twirls one of Ulu's braids while the paladin does her best to not look annoyed. "If you wish. Such power does not come without some risk. The necromantic energy of the spell can have an... unhealthy affect on those of lesser physical and mental fortitudes. Nothing that any of you would have to worry about, I'm sure." Maus, looking more assured now, states "Well, I'll have no part of any dark magics. If you decide to utilize Lady Nome's charm, I will remain behind and do more research." Nomcebo gives a small yank on Ulu's braid, causing the paladin to twitch with a jolt of pain. "And if you are averse to a little risk I'm afraid I will have to order Ulu to pursue other leads." Maus harumphs. "So which path do you all prefer? Invisibility or camouflaged?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Besides the obvious class abilities of a cleric/druid vs. a paladin, choosing to journey with Maus or Ulu will carry certain benefits, as detailed below.

Maus Moeller

Experience of Father Oak- The party receives a 10% experience bonus on all experience rewards, and Maus's extensive knowledge provides a reroll on any intelligence or wisdom based ability check one time per short rest.

Hide from Undead- During a short or long rest Maus can do a ritual that hides the party from the eyes of undead. Undead cannot smell, see, or hear the party. This effect ends for a player if they attack an undead or touch it. Any undead of CR 5 or above can resist this effect with a perception check against Maus' spell save DC, rolled at disadvantage.

Uluthando Mikoso

Vigilance of the Watchers- The party receives a flat bonus to initiative checks equal to Ulu's charisma modifier- currently +3. In addition, Ulu's stoic demeanor reinforces the mind and allows a reroll of a madness save one time per short rest.

Form of Death- During a short or long rest Ulu can activate a relic given to her by Nome that disguises the party as undead. Each of you will appear to all senses to be a ghoul. This effect ends for a player if they attack or cast a spell targeting another being. Again, any creature of CR 5 or above can resist this effect with a perception check against Nome's spell save DC, rolled at disadvantage. WARNING- This effect uses powerful necromantic energy, and there may be unforeseen side effects.

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