(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.