(Week Seventeen) Politcal manouvers

We set out at once for Kratas by way of Eidolon.  In Eidolon we took a look at the goods for sale and a avoided the Theran pastries for both political and caloric reasons.  I did however, sell a ruby that I had stashed with m things. 

We headed into Kratas by way of Daiche.  On the way into town, the sun began to set as we came upon a friendly human farmer with a load or turnips.  When a band of Ork Scortchers bore down on us, we girded ourselves for battle, but she, unconcerned, warned us to stay close.  We wondered how she might protect us with nothing but roots but when she held up the vegetables, the Scortchers passed us by.  We later learned that Garlthic One-Eye has few rules but that one is that farmers are not to be molested.

In town, we saw to the stabling of our horses and then prepared to make our way to an inn in the area frequented by the farmers but were accosted by Chrysalis an Obsidiman who would say only that his master must meet with us at once, before we saw Garlthic.  Friti was skeptical but he paid for our time and promised that more would be offered at the meeting.  Since we hadn't planned to see Garlthic before the next morning anyway we finally agreed to accompany him to Koriolus' Cups the finest inn in Kratas.  There we met his master who died before he could tell us anything.  We took our payment and the golden dagger with which he had been stabbed.

As soon as word got out that he was dead, a pushy Windling, who I suspected might be Garlthic in disguise but Jaga thought she was the heir apparent and chief of his enforcers.  She refused to buy me dinner our hire a masseur to help my aching tail.  She took out letter of introduction to Garlthic and we told her the story of how we had arrived at the inn but did not elaborate about our business with Garlthic or show her the knife.  She was followed around by a fopish (is there any other kind) male T'skrang who didn't show much interest in me.


We spent the night in a flop house in the Green Grocer part of town, taking watches.  The next morning we went to see Garlthic at his mansion and were let in.  There he stood with the Windling and T'skrang from last night.  We told him the whole story and I showed him the knife.  The Windling seemed to recognize it and tried to grab it away from me.  I resisted giving up my treasure to any lesser person to Garlthic but she took offense and sliced off my (other) hand.  I fainted from shock and loss of blood.

I awoke the next day in an inn in the stable district where the party had carried me.  Friti had gone to train so I sought the services of Garlan.  After three days (and 3000 silver) my hand was fully restored but I found that I had told nearly everything of our parties business to the friendly questor who had healed me.   

Week seventeen -- Jaga

So no shit, there we were. Walking down the road, minding our own business, trying to deliver a message from the king, when we spotted raiders up the road, barreling toward us. Long story short, we were saved from certain death by an old lady bearing turnips. I tasted one, they didn't taste particularly dangerous, but she was insistent that we would be safe if only we would stay near her turnip cart. Now, I can think of better things to do than suffer what I expect would be a horrible and painful death, so I stayed near the cart. Sure enough, the raiders were suitably deterred by the roots and did not harm us, but simply rode on by. I was pleasantly surprised that this actually worked. (Apparently even hardened, bloodthirsty criminals consider it bad form to harm a farmer in these parts. I can't say I'm entirely against the idea, either.) I made a mental note to myself to give turnips another try, seeing as though I've always been sort of non-committal about them. Attitudes can change when something saves your life.

Anyway, we no sooner got into town than we get stopped by an obsidimin requesting we meet with his boss, an appropriately dressed elf, before we deliver our message from the king. I didn't see any reason why we couldn't meet with both, so we headed off with the obsidimin straight away.

It turned out to be a short meeting. The poor elf only managed to squeak out a half sentence before he was stabbed in the back through a cleverly hidden hole in the back of his seat. It really wasn't too terribly surprising, given the area, but it was disappointing not being able to get the appropriate information. The really interesting part was actually the stabbing weapon itself, a rather ornate dagger. It wasn't something I think you'd want to leave behind by accident. The whole situation makes me a little nervous.

As expected, seeing as though a crime was committed in our presence, we had to talk to the local authorities. And the local authorities did not disappoint – it turned out to be Terricia, a windling of considerable fame being a world-class bitch and the heir apparent to the throne. She didn't get much information out of us, considering we didn't really know anything, but she did take our letter of introduction. That sort of pissed me off, but I couldn't really think of anything to do about it at the time. She's really not someone I'm comfortable fucking with.

Thankfully, we were still granted an audience with the head orc the next day, despite our lack of letter of introduction. Terricia was also there, which may have helped a bit. He wanted to talk about our ill-fated meeting the previous night, but we couldn't really tell him anything besides what we had already told Terricia. They wanted to inspect the dagger, but our t'skrang was experiencing a shit-for-brains moment, and decided not to give it to her. Suffice it to say that ended badly for our t'skrang with Terricia still holding the dagger in end. Can't save everyone, I suppose. We did learn, however, that the dagger belonged to a rather famous assassin. But again, why he'd leave the dagger behind eludes me. The whole thing doesn't sit well with me, something bad is going on here.

Week sixteen -- Jaga

After our last disaster, we tried the same plan again, but with a different approach -- we checked people _before_ they came in!  Brilliant.  We found one guy who was sending crazy mixed signals -- dangerous, suddenly not dangerous, you know the type. The cavalryman and I tired the direct approach and swiftly found ourselves back at the door wondering what we were supposed to be doing.  It was weird.  Finally.  The t'skrang broke the ice with the guy by buying him a drink.  He said he was looking for the same thing we were -- that is, I assume, the gambling horror.  Why he was looking for it, he didn't say, and she didn't ask. 

Further searching of the participants revealed a strange broach that wanted to fight with us.  Unfortunately, we all got the strange feeling that we actually should attack it, and the broach skittered away.  Yes, skittered.  I didn't know broached could skitter, abut apparently they can.

More unfortunately, drinking guy somehow got a  hold of it, and ran off with it.  And apparently he was some sort of bad guy, because we very quickly found ourselves in the company of the kind, who them immediately left to go fight him. We probably should have just smashed the broach when we had the chance.

(week who-the-hell-cares) Anti-gaming

So three elves and a t'skrang walk in to a bar ...

Gambling is SOOOO hard ...

I don't think I could live without my right hand ...

Oh look they have a red mist machine in that bar!!!

Is there a love interest in this adventure?

Yes there is ... yes there is ;)

What a night ... enjoy!!!

(Week Fourteen) A Travelling Horror

Returning to the ship was accessed the upper chamber now unguarded and discovered panels to insert the keys.  We were unable to discover any functionality but did seem to set off an alarm and overload the engines.  We left the ship and watched from a goodly distance as it exploded in a ball of fire.

Setting out, we soon found evidence of that a Horror tainted individual had horribly maimed a camp of miners.  They had no means of communication and were suffering horribly.  Friti put them out of their misery.  We did the same when we found a group of picnickers who had suffered the same fate.

We tracked the contagion to Bartertown where the horror first attacked the Red Spot.  We obtained a description from the used horse salesman who had bought the horse that we had been tracking.  Friti said that he seemed to be a normal mount.  We were unable to learn more at the Red Spot because all the victims had been sequestered by the guards.

At first the Throalic guard was suspicious but eventually we were given a commission to aid in the search by a mysterious dwarf who also took the robe from us.  We discovered the man who we had been looking for among the victims from the Red Spot.  Several patrols of guards were attacked and we discovered that one guard was missing.  He had bought the same horse the Horror had ridden in on and headed for House Syrtis.  We followed him there only to learn of an attack on a boat downstream.  We hurried to follow but then were intercepted by messengers bearing the news of a new attack in Syrtis, to which we duefully returned.  

(Week Thirteen) Horrible Happenings

We spent the a week or so in barter town but gained little knowledge that would help us identify the source of Vaughn's trouble more concretely.  Eventually we heard that a powerful adept who was visiting House Syrtis might be able to help.  We set off overland.  Along the way we found evidence that the Therans had captured the mysterious woman from the strange vessel but recovered her robe from a drunk troll.  At house Syrtis we were ordered to stop by the guards and Vaughn was hit by an arrow but eventually recovered.

Reluctantly we returned to the ship to finish exploring its secrets.  We found that it had been searched and ransacked by Therans but the control room was still guarded by the armored creature and appeared inviolate.  Vaughn gained access to the mysterious weapon after another party member failed to activate it.  Though the guard fled rather than face him so armed, he turned the weapon us.  At first unable to aim accurately once he had plunged the spike into his brain he was deathly accurate killing Sparky and Eyob.  The cavalryperson and I subdued him and took him to Charles in Gnarles Barkly for his advice.  He said that Vaughn was clearly Horror-tainted and that the only solution was burning.  We agreed to decapitate him first and proceeded to purge the evil.

Week fifteen -- Jaga

My life is frustration. We get so close to finding the... the what? Source of the horror? Method of transmission? Motivation? Whatever it is, we get close to finding it, and then fail miserably. We even got it to change its pattern of behavior – we're obviously on to something, but what that something is, I can't say. 

I'm beyond frustrated at this point, and my companions apparently feel the same, since they see suicide as the only option remaining. I'd call them noble for their sacrifice, but I think they're just getting lazy. There has to be something that we're missing – something that we're not getting. I just don't know, I'm just out of ideas. I don't know what to do. Investigation sucks. It was so much easier to track down petty criminals and rip their fingernails off.

Week fourteen -- Jaga

I am Jäga, a specialist in hunting those who hide within our cities.  I am well-versed in the delicate arts of information-gathering and urban tracking.   

While I am more than adequately compensated for my craft, I have recently grown weary of shaking down petty criminals and gamblers with debts owed to those who would pay me to find and collect them, so I went in search a new commison.  My contacts are extensive, by nature of my work, so I soon found myself meeting with one Charles D. Ward, a wizard.  He seemed somewhat smarmy, but mentioned a bit about a missing elf wearing a silver robe.  I followed him back to his house on the promise of more information -- apparently the reward is unprecedented -- but his chatter seemed to dry up as we arrived.  I decided to give him a short grace period to start talking before I busted out the big guns, when an adventuring party arrived with an apparently horror-marked member in tow.  They performed the necessary action, of course, but were then looking for new members. Now, I don't relish ripping wizard's fingernails off -- honestly -- so I left with the new group.  I figured more information could be procured about the missing elf later.   

What happened next, I'm sad to say, can best be described as a rather ridiculous wild goose chase -- if, of course, wild geese were missing their tactile receptors and had oozing wounds where their eyes, ears, and mouths should be, but somehow did not die.  We found victims of this horror -- as it is most assuredly some sort of horror -- across several villages, towns, and even down the river.  We failed to find the source or even the method of transmission of this spreading plague that leaves lurching, mutilated bodies in its wake.  I'm disappointed in myself and my investigative capabilities.  We must find the source of this horror before it claims more victims.        

Obituary for Vaughn

Vaughn, though often a severely conflicted character, always tried to do mostly the right thing, as long as it didn't interfere with what he thought would be fun or simply a better idea. He was always up for a game or good-natured fight, especially when there was money to be won. He sometimes told the whole truth, but never minced words. He was good at dodging traps (we can presume) and letting other people fight the big monsters.

Vaughn will always be remembered as a rather ill-fated and perpetually unlucky risk-taker, whose immortal words, “What's the worst that could happen?” will forever live in our hearts and minds. 

No memorial is planned out of respect for his victims.

Week thirteen -- Vaughn

So, everything was going just fine, we were traveling along, and very suddenly I had an arrow stuck in the middle of my forehead. The message was very clear that we were going the wrong way, and should go back the way we came. Well, I was convinced, so we turned back.

As soon as we returned to the spaceship, I got one of those weird thoughts again. I was convinced that I should have all the keys so I could use the scorpion tail weapon and kill all my party members. I suddenly knew exactly how to use the weapon (stick your hand in and plug into your brain), and that it was important not to miss.

I was surprised how little effort it took to get the keys from the others. You'd think they'd be more concerned. But I was truthful, and when they asked me what I wanted them for, I answered, “So I can kill you all.” Shockingly, they still weren't deterred, and gave me the keys. I was like, “Awesome,” and went over to pick up the weapon. I stuck my hand in like I knew I should, but the brain-plugging-in part didn't really appeal to me, so I decided to ignore it.

The first target was easy: the troubadour who was eating all of our trail rations and not singing any songs. She attempted to disguise herself from a crying little girl to an innocent dwarf, but, clever guy that I am, I saw right through it. I aimed but missed again, conveniently letting a giant spider escape unharmed. I thought, “Man, what's it going to take to hit her?” Since she was all defensive and stuff. Then I remember the brain-attach-y bit. I thought, “What's the worst that could happen?” So I plugged it in. And oh, man, was it great. Little crying girl didn't stand a chance. She was pulverized on the next round.

I was feeling pretty good about myself, but then I remembered that I still had (what I thought) was one more round. This made for a difficult decision, since the giant spider had already fled. I didn't want to kill horse guy, because he was always nice to me, and the t'skrang was kind of hot, so I didn't want to kill her, either. That left only Sparky. I always kind of hated his name, so it was settled. He was dust by the next round.

Overall, it was nice to hit stuff, but I saw afterward that it had made everyone sad. And that made me sad, too. So it wasn't as fun as I thought it would be.

Horse guy told me that I couldn't stay with the group anymore, and decided to go to Charles D. Ward for help. I was a little heartbroken, but couldn't say that I blamed him, and thus felt compelled to agree. Unfortunately, when we arrived at Charles' house, Charles decided it would be best to burn me alive. To tell you the truth, I had a somewhat different idea of rehabilitation, but I didn't get a vote. For the record, I never liked him.

(week 13) What a stupid day.

Once upon a time I sang with the birds. I was the most musical namegiver in the lands. I stood before kings and was praised. I was the magnificent Aob, the troubadour. But that was what was and it is not any more.

Now I travel with a tired adventuring party that has a turnover greater than that of a mining camp. I am miserable and I don't want to travel with them further, but I feel a duty to do so. Each morning I tend my wounds and trudge on, awaiting my death, many times wishing for it ...

---
Those are the last words from Aob before she was killed by a party member. May Aob rest in peace now.

(week 12) Bang bang, saw saw, creak.

"AHHHHHHH! Where am I and why can't I move my arms?!?! If I stuggle ... umph .... there I can move my left arm!!!" - Aob

I awoke to find myself tied up. I worked feverishly and eventually freed myself. Hearing voices I moved to the door and opened it slightly to find several adventurers standing in the hall. I coughed slightly and they all turned. We all introduced ourselves. 

The first task the party needed to do was recover a key left on the body of their fallen comrad. The problem is that he died by the hand of the spiders in the room and they are still in the room. 

We arived at the room and had the plan of swiftly entering the room, grabbing the body, dragging it out and shutting the door. The tough elf opened the door and grabbed the body as planned but unfortunately 16 spiders came along for the ride. 4 spiders leaped on each of us and the battle began. I took a good deal of damage. This led me to run like hell to save my musical self from a less than musical death. This all leads me to believe I am staring in a play titled "Death". 

We carried on opening another door to find a medium sized spider that attacked me and fled. Opening the next door we found a door. Opening that door we found another door. Opening that door we found a machine with a hole in it that looks to be for one of the keys we have found. It also has several egg sacks hanging from it, making us believe it is a trap. We left it be. 

Next we moved downstairs and search more down there. The first room we came to housed 8 ghost spiders. They ignored us and so we moved on. The next room contained 2 ghost spiders, we moved on. 

Next we found a room with gelly fish fighting spiders. The thief informed us that the fight was a psychic impression tht happened long ago. More rooms were found with similar ocupents. 

Further on we found a mysterious elf tired up and we freed her. She spoke giberish and wore a silver robe. The calveryman took the new elf back to his house to stay safe. While there, there was a knock on the outside door. The thief tried all the keys he held, but none opened the door. He picked the lock and behind it stood a female t'skrang. She introduced herself as Tabatha, the illusionist. 

We carried on to find a room with more ghosts in it, one wearing something very similar to the machine. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the thief attack in the attempt to take the silver robe. I turned to watch, but not act, as I do not know these adventuerers well ehough to know who to attack, and the mysterious elf made orb motions with her hands. The others attempted to stun the theif but failed. The thief then attacked again, knocking down the mys. elf. The mys. elf cast razor orb on the theif and nearly killed him. He continued to attack though and the illusionist finally grappled him with a rope. The calv. elf stunned him and then the both tied him up. 

We took the two unconsious elves back to the 1st room and think about how to procede, while resting. We woke the elf and talked about why he attacked the mys. elf. He informed us that he felt that he had to kill the mys. elf. He also felt much stronger while attacking. The calv. elf tied the thief up in a manor to make a leash, so the thief could continue to lead but under the control of the calv. elf. We set out. 

The first room we came to housed a stabbed 1yd wide eyeball. 

Searching the remainder of the ship uncovered nothing. With this knowledge, we headed back to bartertown. The first night we set up watch to keep an eye on the thief. During the calv. elf's watch, the vegitation grappled him and the mys. elf wandered off. We woke and could do nothing except talk about what happened. We went back to bed and mornign came without issue. 

While walking the rest of the way to town, the thief located 17000s in a tree. 

In town we located a neromancer and gave him 4000s to do some PI work for us. 

---
Tom tom the waiter was my mentor for circling up. We spent the whole week listening to a man build something in his house. I was instructed to envision what it was and to make a song about it. I thought it was a ship and wrote a lovely melody about it. 

Bang bang, saw saw creak.
Saw saw, bang bang creak.
Creak creak, creak creak creak.
Bang bang, saw saw creek.
A boat was made, in a week. 

(Week Twelve) A hidden mystery revealed

I am Tabitha V’strimon a brave T'skrang Captain and recent adept of Illusionism.  Having lost my boat in a card game (Hana Solo if I ever meat you again you are dead as a liar and a cheat), I set out to try my luck on land.  I have a number of illusions up my sleeve and thought that I might run into some likely adventurers.  There are many in Barsaive this time of year. 


I find a strange craft landed, or crashed, into the earth and knocked on the front door.  I always feel that the direct approach is best when confronting the unknown.  They might be friendly after all.  I mean, stranger things have happened, albeit not often.  On the other hand, when confronting known enemies, all the tricks and illusions one can muster are fair game.  After a moment the door was opened by a rather odd party consisting of three elves, a mysterious woman in a silver robe, and a horse.  I preformed a short soliloquy to demonstrate my lack of Horror taint and we introduced ourselves.


Shortly thereafter the elf male, known as Vaughn attacked the mysterious woman without warning.  This lead to a rather nasty confrontation but the cavalyperson and I managed to subdue him and tie him up.  The mysterious woman healed quickly and made signs that I think indicate that Vaugn is Horror marked but I could not manage to learn her musical, but alien, language.


The Cavalryperson, Friti, doubtless overwhelmed by my feminine charms made an impolitic comment about me weight so I spent a good bit of time appearing as a rather fearsome orc.  Unfortunately I don't think it had much impact on the poor man.  Still it is good to stay in practice.


Deciding that there was nothing more to see in the ship, several of their previous companions had died horrible deaths within its bowels, we marched back to Bartertown to find out the source of Vaughn's strange compulsions.  The first day out of the ship the mysterious woman left, possibly after entangling Friti with a spell.  She headed north but the other female did not want to pursue so we did not.  


In Bartertown, the other female went off for training and Friti and I supervised Vaughn at a nethermancer's.  He demanded a very high price to examine him and then could tell us little of moment.

Obituary for Werrymether Giodenes

Werrymether Giodenes (Werry to his friends) was a noble and knowledgeable Windling Nethermancer.  Some have felt that Nethermancy is incompatible with Windling's natural love of nature and life, but Werry showed them otherwise.  He was a firm believer in the greatness of growing and blessing of blossoming, but he also knew that distress of decay is the food of the fungus.  That what we see as death is new life, from a certain point of view.

Thus, we do not mourn his passing but sing his paens of praise and nimbly know that in another plane his alliterative alliance continues consciously.

Week twelve -- Vaughn

I thought it was important that we go back and retrieve Kob's body. Not for any deep-seated emotional connection to the fallen, but because I wanted to loot the body, especially a key that I wanted for a reason that... eludes me. Unfortunately, the spiders that killed Kob still, apparently, had the ability to kill us. With great disappointment, my team members convinced me to leave the body, un-looted. I was sort of crushed, but bravely continued on.

We came across captive elf wearing an expensive-looking robe and speaking some sort of gibberish. Being the mostly good and untainted adventuring party we are, we freed her and put her next to the horse for company. And then I had the weirdest feeling – that I really, really wanted her dead. It was really strange, and went far beyond my normal thoughts of deviancy. The thought was strong and impossible to ignore. I thought maybe I just wanted her robe – it was a nice looking robe – and was simply misinterpreting my thoughts. You know, like sometimes when you think you're hungry, and you're actually thirsty, instead? Yeah, something like that.

So anyway, the next thing I know, I'm trying to stab her in the face. And I'm doing really well! Like, I don't usually stab things... ever. I was like, super strong and stuff. It was kind of awesome. I stabbed her until she looked dead, and I started trying to take her robe off. I didn't even get the tiniest glimpse of sweet, sweet elf flesh when horse-guy knocks me unconscious.

I woke up sort of disoriented, tied up, and without all my weapons and keys. Also, robe lady is alive, for some reason. I felt kind of bad about that, I mean, she really did look dead before, and it's bad form to leave a job so blatantly unfinished. So I had to explain about my weird thoughts to the group, which was kind of embarrassing. I told them they started when I picked up the keys. Sadly, after that, they decided that they definitely wouldn't give them back to me.

I tried to explain to them that I really no longer wanted to kill the robe lady, and that it was okay to untie me. I tried my best “honest” face (I mean, coupled with the truth, how could I lose?), but they weren't buying it. Apparently, I'm a danger! ...Astounding.

So we decided to go seek a nethromancer to find the source of my impure thoughts (well, these specific impure thoughts), but they all wanted to finish exploring the place first. And since I'm the best at opening doors and dodging traps, I had to go with. In fact, they put me first. A danger, right. The best part about it was that I got to wear a neat harness and leash, that now that I think about it, would probably have severely limited my trap-avoiding ability, but I thought it was really cool. We found some scorpion tail weapons with familiar-looking key holes, but nobody ventured to put the keys in. I found it rather disappointing.

On the way into town toward the nethromancer, the robe lady escaped the first night. My group still isn't trusting me, so I had to sleep tied up, so I couldn't even chase her down for her glittery and valuable robe. That was a little crushing in itself, I hate to see money just walk off like that.

Luckily, I used some impure thoughts to locate a sizable cache of money hidden in a tree. See? It's not bad all the time! … But they're still not buying it. I had to go into town trussed up like a Christmas goose. After paying the nethromancer a rather sizable portion of my coins, he said I was horror-marked. Well, I could have probably guessed that. He said to be un-marked we'd have to kill the horror, but couldn't tell us where or what the horror was. Thanks a bunch for that.

(Week Eleven) Shuddering Slumber and Weary Waiting

After I awoke, our fearsome fellowship of active adventurers set out to complete the exploration of this strange craft.  We encountered a large armoured sphere guarding the entrance to the control cockpit and it quickly reduced the other Windling to dust.  After we had fled, I considered darting back in to retrieve his body but thought better of it. 

We found a nest of what seemed to be eggs.  We rescued a dangling dwarf and then as more and more of the eggs began to hatch, turned to flee.  The troll was too slow and as the rest of us watched in horror, and the safety of the next room, she was overwhelmed.  It was a horrible sight to behold.

On the other side of the ship, we encountered too more guards ho proved to be quite dangerous.  I was knocked unconscious for a week and then spent another week or so recovering.  We remained in the belly of the beast and did not explore during that time.

Week eleven -- Vaughn

It was kind of a ... rough time, we had, slogging though fights -- two fights, actually.  We lost our most recent windling addition, but thankfully and conveniently happened upon another elf tied up in some webbing.  I was feeling good about this one, I really was.  I had a good feeling, because he was an elf and all.   And we walk into a fight, and the kid falls.  Within seconds.  Sometimes my intuition ain't so good.  But literally!  Seconds!  It was crazy. 

Unfortunately, that fight didn't pan out so well for the rest of us, either, which resulted in the majority of us fleeing the scene.  And by majority, I mean everyone but Kob the troll, who was too slow to escape properly.  Left by himself in a room full of giant spiders and suggestively modeled eggs, he was ... sadly... ripped to shreds.  I know, I know, blah, blah, blah, how valiant.

Maybe we'll have better luck this time keeping our party members alive.

Week ten -- Vaughn

I returned from my trip, bones thankfully intact, to find my fellow adventurers approximately where I had left them.  There was no sign of the bad what's-his-face, and the party seemed awfully stumped by a  locked door.  Luckily, I have just the skill to bypass such an obstacle.  I quickly examined the door to find a lock and a hole just the right size for... well, you know.  Now I consider myself rather... worldly, and so, given our circumstances, I was fairly sure what I did NOT want to do.  I inwardly applauded myself for my incredible foresight -- after all, sometimes they're just bad bets -- and effortlessly picked the lock.  Win.

I spent most of the rest of the encounter bravely opening doors an dprovoking enemies tha tlay within them.  I mostly let the more muscle-y ones fight said enemies, well, because I was surprised just how much damage a cow-vagine-robot could actually do.  It was kind of astonishing. 

We also found some dwarves that needed saving and some freaky dwarf machines that probably need to be shut down.  We didn't really get to those yet.  That's what I like about this group -- they have the right priorities!

Week nine -- Vaughn

So I had planned a brief trip -- I had some business that needed my attention -- small matters, really.  I didn't expect my traveling to take very long and was relatively mundane.  So I ... more or less... neglected to tell anyone in the group. 

Anyway, that was coming up when we were just finishing with the tentacle-inducing airship.  We had wrapped up acting heroic, when two runners were spotted heading toward us.  I couldn't pass up the opportunity to make some money, and I was excited whne someone took up my bet!  ... I lost, but I'm not bitter about it.  Sometimes that just how those things go.  Anyway, the two runners bore messages: one was a distress call from a village suffering from animated treasure chests with bad loan reparyment options, an done was a meassage from Charles D. Ward.  Apparently another adventuring party was looking for members, and Charles had thought of us.  How sweet.

Everyone seemed to be short of cash, so we headed for the treasure chests... I mean, the suffering and oppressed villagers.  After arriving, we did some quick intel and found the offending treasure chest.  Apparently, you either paid it some exorbitant sum, or it ate you.  Seemed pretty harsh, so we destroyed it.  The remaining villagers were very grateful and rewarded us handsomely.

So we went to attend to our other business, the referral from Charles D. Ward.  The group seemed a little preoccupied with a particular arrangement of passion worship, but not much else.  It seemed a little silly to me, but you know I don't really get into that sort of hoopla.  But they did have a map and a key that sparked my interest, so I stuck around.

You know, I was actually surprised when the first member of their twam went missing.  But as the next six took unexplained absences, I started thinking of them as less obstacles to breaking into their room to steal their stuff.  With two remaining, I made my move and retrieved what I had wanted.

Upon my return, I leaned that there was only one of the other party left, and he was some sort of... something... not good.  He wanted our help, and I thought, why not?  I was heading out of town anyway, and of course my party is all very competent.  So it was settled.  I make fantastic decisions for other people!

(week 11) Another day on the "H" cock

Before we can continue to explore the cock, we decided to go down to the lower level to rest, mostly so the neuromancer could recover. His small body is just not adept at taking blows from those horror of the cock. The next morning he awoke and we all focused on healing ourselves. Once healed to a functional level needed in order to proceed further into the cock, we set out.

Back upstairs we picked up where we left off and opened a new door. Inside was a Theran but it was not like the others, it was well armored and appeared to be something we should leave be. Wilson approached and was killed immediately. We immediately shut the door, leaving the dead windling in the company of the horror simply for fear of dying should we attempt rescue. This did not sit well with the other windling and he made a dash for the door but came to his senses before he entered. We carried on.

Through the next door we found ourselves being attacked by three beach ball sized Therans. I dispatched one easily with my first blow. The cavalryman attacked a second and it too fell. I then laid waste to the third and battle ended.

We continued to explore through the north door and we found an elf wrapped in silk. We cut him loose and he joined our party. Next we found a room with hatching beach balls. I bravely stepped forward and slayed one. The new elf was attached and fell.

The end.

(Week 10) Shuddering Ships and Tentacly Troubles

While resting in Gnarls Barkley our fulsome fellowship was joined by a travelling troll.  She claimed to have a seen a great ship in the shape of a Thoalic 'H' sailing through the sky.  Sensing that this might be trouble worth investigating.  We headed north after the vessel.

Some time later, we found it crashed into the Earth.  It was a massive, black monstrosity that resembled nothing that we had ever seen before.  A great protuberance lifted out from the center of the crossbar of the 'H'.  Below it I found a door with no obvious keyhole.  The other windling, Wlson, found something but when he put a stick in it we were attacked by a fearsome beast.  A Spheroid with four metallic tentacles and a movable mouth.  The troll thought that it must be a surgically altered Theran but I have my doubts.

After we drove off the attacker, I flew up to see if it was still lurking.  I did not see it but did find what appeared to be a control room in the top of the protuberance with seats for two of the monstrosities.  At this point, Valiant Vaughn caught up with us and he quickly managed to get the door open.  Inside the vessel we found many rooms.  Several of which contained dwarves wrapped in silk, as if they had been captured by giant spiders.  I expected to find 12 (the canonical number of dwarves to rescue from giant spiders) but there were more.  After some additional exploration we went up to the upper deck where we found more monstrosities.  They were too much for us and I was knocked unconscious 

(Week Nine) Terrible Tortures

We met up with a new adventurer, a wise Windling beastmaster named Wilson.  Our fearless fellowship followed the tainted troll for four days.  Valiant Vaugn stayed behind counting gold.  We came to a vanquished village where a silvery object had tunneled out of the ground.  It had a doorway and the horror bade Fritti, Wilson, and Werrymether (myself) to enter.  Zob remained behind on the surface with Bubo.  

Inside we faced a series of challenges.  In each we were confronted by a group of innocent villagers and had to judge one of them the winner.  The others died horrible deaths.  I am sure the horror masterminding the adventure was amused but I was hardy happy, indeed horrified.

After seeing much mayhem we were taken to a court where Zob sat on the judgement seat.  After hearing from the survivors how we had condemned so many innocents to die she, nevertheless, pronounced us innocent.  She paid for her mercy with her life.  As we left the vessel we saw an empty cage.  Something must have been released.  The horror was nowhere to be seen and the villagers, though they forgave us for the deaths of there compatriots refused our advice to move their homes away from the silvery vessel.

Back in Berryville, we received a message that Charles D. Ward was planning a party to which we were invited.  It was deathly dull but we shared some information with Chuck about our adventure.  Hopefully, we can find Vaughn again and perhaps a replacement for that Zany Zob who gave her life for us.    

(week 9) It ate me.

And I died.

(Week 8) Disturbing Discovery

The next day another thundering Theran airship appeared and took possession of the Captain and anything of value.  They particularly reminded us that Barsaive was a province remote of the Theran Empire and that we all owed allegiance to Thera.  Since we were outnumbered we did not press the point.

Soon, we were approached by two runners.  I won a bet with Vaughn as to which would reach us first and learned of a horrible extortion racket run by an enchanted treasure chest.  Vaughn's message was from Charles D. Ward and suggested that we answer a call that had been made to him.

We defeated the defiant chest and returned it's extorted profits, but there was enough left over to compensate us for our trouble.  We then went to see the group that had sent for Charles.

They were a motley mob of adepts seeking to become The Passionate Nine by finding a member who worshiped each of the Nine main Passions.  Since none of us qualified they didn't think that we could help but we resolved to 'help' them find the treasure that they were seeking by 'borrowing' their map.  Unfortunately before Ferocious Fritti could drink them under they started disappearing.  We investigated each disappearance and found evidence of corruption but could not locate the source of the taint until only one of the party remained.  The last lonely member, an illusionist, was revealed to be a horror who had absorbed the rest of the group.  We will try an parley with the thing in hopes of learning its purposes.  

(week 8) Help! It's gonna eeeaat me!!!

Well I was just minding my own business waiting in line to get some of my coins exchanged when a the most rude chest approached. Can you believe it? He was demanding payment. All I could think about was trying not to faint from the smell every time its lid of a mouth opened up to speak. I drew my weapon and screamed in my most helpless sounding voice "Help me, oh please help me!".

Just then a small group of adventures approached and together we defeated the vile horror. I then introduced myself as Zob the Scout and inquired as to whether they might be looking for additional adventurers, as I was seeking adventure. They accepted me with nothing more than a nod, and off we went.

Together we traveled out to small town under the instruction we received in a note from Charles D. Ward, a wizard not well liked by the party. I have never met this Charles, so I will reserve judgement until I know more. When we arrived in the small town, we found a odd of group people. They called themselves the defenders of the passions or some such drivel, and informed us that they were looking for one last member to complete their group of 9. We, unfortunately, were not allowed to join their little club. Now I was happy as a clam to not be invited in and instead enjoyed simply watching from a distance. The elf smelling of horse dung challenged the whole group to a drinking contest and they happily agreed to the challenge, but it must wait untill tomorrow. There was more talk and the mention of a map and key was made. Learning all that we thought we could, we headed off to our room for a little shut-eye.

When we arrived at the room, the annoying elf made it clear that he wanted to steal the map and key while the 8 slept. The party decided that was not the correct move, and instead we all headed to bed.

The next morning we made our presence known downstairs only to find that one of the 8 had left on an errand and had not returned. The next day another left and again did not return. This happened over and over until the 8 was a mere 3. We tried searching for several of the missing folks but came up empty. At that point the annoying elf and I made our way into their room and looted their locked chests. We found some money, a map and a large key.

Week seven -- Vaugn

So we continued our quest after tentacle-y monsters.  Which I always thought would be sexier, but it turns out not so much.  In any case, we arrived in a village being terrorized by a horror composed of many chickens fused head to tail end with tentacles in place of the normal feet.  It laid eggs with tentacles protruding from the shell, which the eggs then used to make a speedy exit.  It was sort of comical, when it wasn't killing people.  Interestingly, this village was also visited by a Theran airship not too long ago. 

Of course we stepped in to relieve the village of this monstrosity, thinking, "How bad could this possibly be?  It's just a chicken, after all.  Just a horrible, mutated, freak of nature chicken."  It didn't take long for us to find out that it, could, in fact, defend itself quite nicely using its many, many tentacle-y feet.  But our sheer perseverance paid off, and after steady blows, it was finally defeated.  The townsfolk were very grateful and threw a party in our honor.  Thankfully, no chicken products were served. 

The townsfolk showed us the direction that the Therans went, and we followed their trail.  It looked like their luck had run out, because we found their ship some ways up the road, crashed and wedged upside down in between two tall buildings.  A crowd had gathered, and they had already captured some of the airship inhabitants and held them in cages.  Also caged was what seemed to be a dog, but with a tiny tentacle instead of an ear.  Some bleeding hearts wanted to save it -- they always think, "Oh, it's just an adorable <blank> with just this one strange little <blank>.  What's the worst that could happen?"  I think I'm pretty quick on the draw, if you know what I mean, and I can tell you that, assuredly, the worst _will_ happen, and it will be exceedingly painful.  So, long story short, I stealthily dispatched the dog-thing, and returned its corpse to its cage.  And no one was the wiser!

After some serious strategizing, we decided to board the airship and look for the remaining crew members.  We ended up finding a captive princess-like lady who -- of course -- needed rescuing.  She wouldn't leave her cabin for fear of the cook.  The cook?  Yes, the cook.  She was afraid of the cook.  Okay, so we went to "talk" to the cook.  With swords, thinking that this was going to be pretty straight-forward.  Well, the man has got one helluva arm -- he threw a turnip at me and I nearly _died_.  The rest of the party didn't fare much better, and we all ended up fleeing the ship, leaving the princess to fend for herself.  While we were recovering, _someone_ set fire to the entire ship, burning the captive alive.  I was really disappointed, because I like princesses, and especially saving them.  They always feel so obligated afterwards.

Luckily, a woman appeared with some sort of soup -- I declined politely since I only eat leaves and berries -- that thankfully replenished everyone, even the charred corpse of the princess.  Even though she probably won't sleep with me, now, I'm glad she's alive.  She seemed nice. 

(Week 7) Strange Sights

Having burned the bothersome brothel. Our fearsome fellowship continued North in pursuit of the hovering horror of the Theran airship. In the next village, we found the friendly farmers surrounding a chicken-coop and hunting tentacled chicken eggs that lept from it. Inside we found a centipedal construct of pulluted poultry.

We directly dispacted the avian abomination to the townsfolk's great relief. After a suitable celebration we continued North. We saw signs of the wayward direction of the airship and found in wedged between two buildings. The mad captain was imprisoned but his little sack of horrors was empty. The last having been consumed by a domestic dog that we discreetly destroyed.

Flying up to examine the airship I found a considerate captive who told a tragic tale of wretched woe. She had been enslaved by the Therans and then locked herself in her room to avoid the Horrors. Unable to contrive an escape, the party and I entered the airship to find our friend.

Instead we found the crazy cook who was nearly impervious to our weapons but had a deadly aim with his vegetable missiles. I was knocked unconcious and remember nothing else until I was fed some delicious horse soup that miraculously restored me. Apparently Garlan had concocted it out of Pinkie, Fritti's noble steed. While I mourned the party's loss, I also noticed that the airship had been badly burned. Luckily my friend had been restored by Garlan's savory soup.

Next, we must decided how to deal with the captured captain.

(week 6) Symbols

Ah yes, where were we this fine eve. I believe we left off with a roof and a pile of horror tainted dwarves. We tried are best to help the poor name givers but everything we tried ended with us covered is dwarf soup, and that is just not a nice thing. I finally decided to take out my aggravation on the roof, and pulled out my ax. After a few solid chops, I discovered something odd about the roof, there appeared to be a symbol on it. Well now, that must be the reason for all this trouble and it must be destroyed. We tried our best bur failed to even scratch the roof until the sun set, only then did we seem to make progress in destroying it. Later on we found a similar symbol and a different roof. It too was destroyed.

(Week Six) Horrid Harlots and Runic Rooves

The party began the day by convincing the friendly farmers who released murderous Cadavermen at night to go for a picnic and leave behind their work on their now twice burned house.  At half a mile from the homestead they exploded gruesomely.  When we returned we found them happily at work, once again propping up their roof.  Very strange indeed, though their command of art remains showing that they are not Horror tainted.  After due deliberation Dob the doughty dwarf doubted the durability of the roof and proceeded to smite it smartly.  The friendly farmers anxiously objected but Dob noticed the runic symbol engraved thereon.  It was tentacly and evil.  We rent the roof and once again the friendly farmers exploded.

At about that time a man came stumbling down from the north and fell at the front of the farmstead.  He had been torn from top to toe and clutched a voucher for a free drink in his hand.  Thinking of how I could use it to discover more about my discipline I quickly scooped up the voucher, which was from a house of harlots a short journey north.  We went to visit.

There we discovered two sulky bar maids and an eager crowd in the courtyard.  The barmaids yielded to the cavalryman’s attentions while I watched the wayward throng.  Soon enough, a dancer appeared with tentacles for arms, a horrible sight.  When asked the barmaids told the story of how a Theran airship had come by not long ago and one of the girls had been used hardly and died.  She was reborn as a tentacle monstrosity which made her very much in demand with the clientele.  She was busy killing the other harlots to convert them into similar horrors.

Valiant Vaughn proved his worth by picking a lock so that we could see one of the beasts with a client whom she was devouring devilishly.  Now fully committed to ending this reign of evil I gathered up the party and we set out to find and eliminate the source of the evil.  The first horror-tainted whore.  We entered her room using a cunning ploy of Vaughn’s but were unable to deal her damage.  Though her tantric tentacles touched us truly.  We fled to the approbation of the crowd.  The barmaids agreed to Fritii’s plan to torch the place and even provided flammables from the wine cellar.

Having ended the Horror here (for none escaped the flames) we continued north in pursuit of the Theran airship.  In the next town we found that it had hovered over a house but never landed or sent people into town.  The house belonged to Charles D. Ward whom the party had assisted in Gnarls Barkley.  We discovered a rune on its roof like that on that of the friendly farmers.