The Seven Straights

Journal of Qued of Clan Mylobi (4)

Myrin 3, 711 YoK

As I sit to chronicle my travels for the first time in weeks I realize just how much has happened. Some of it I have forgotten, and some of it I wish I could forget, and all of it annoys me. I feel as though I am walking in circles along a path that everyone wishes to keep in shadow.

During our brief respite in Kycea, the young warrior we saved disappeared, and we haven’t seen him sense; it seems that gratitude was not a part of his honor code, and we received no thanks for our help. When we returned to his village it was still filled with death and decay, but we found tracks leading south east and after several hours of tracking located a ruins of sorts.

It was inhabited by various underground creatures and undead, which seem to be overly abundant in this area. There were only a few things to note though;

First, a spider the size of a horse. It had made it’s home in the high-ceiling of a throne room over a skeleton in gold-gilded armor. When we rattled the bones it attacked, and might have put up a fight if not for the columns that lines the room. We scattered and hid behind them, striking from a distance until fell.

Second, a couple of intriguing tapestries. One, which we have taken to calling ‘The Giver,’ shows a man with a golden halo accepting a silver orb from a group of men. A second one shows a fiendish griffin preying on undiscerning figures (the artwork is in disrepair).

Thirdly, the man who tried to kill us. He was wearing plated armor and dark robes and carried a sword that swallowed the light from around it. He was channeling energy out of a silver orb (which I at first thought had to do with the painting) when we interrupted him. Not knowing who he was at first, we asked a few questions and mentioned our quest for the man who threw us in a burial pit.

I’ll never forget his answer. His voice was hollow and echoed from his armor, his hand went to his sword, and I wish I could have seen his face. “You survived? How did you survive?”

As he drew his sword I had my spear out, but even as I struck at him I was filled with a sense of dread. I am sure it was magical, but I spent the rest of the fight as far from him as I could, though I am not proud to say it.

I don’t remember exactly how we got out of the dungeon, but we did, and were all bleeding and hurt more than we cared to admit. We set up a camp several hundred yards from the area, not having enough strength to go farther.

That night we discussed things, and agreed that none of us had expected a being as terrible as that. Somewhere in the backs of our minds we had all suspected it, but in the hunt we assumed it to be a poisoner, an alchemist, or a band of thugs; not a demon.

The Oracle was unable to shed much light on the situation, aside from mentioning that he would be vulnerable in the near future and that if we had any chance of besting him it would be then. For more information, it would cost us thousands of gold, which none of us could afford.

I have begun to understand how human temples work.

We decided three things after that. 1. That we all wanted this demon dead. 2. That we were unable to beat him as we are now. 3. That we would train ourselves.

We did a few odd jobs in Nugull helping the lumber industry and after bailing the Changeling out of prison went out fetching a stick for the University.

I enjoyed the second task far more than I thought I would.

On the way back from the swamps where the enchanted wood grows we were given a gift from a Mindflayer. He called himself Therodices, and his gift he referred to as the Artificer Shards, weapons that reflect the experience of those that wield them. He said that he wished for us to stop Al’Nair, the armored caster, and these items would help us to do so. He had little to add beyond that, and seemed as unwilling to teach us as the Oracle.

After finishing our business with the University, we decided to return to the dungeon by the ruined village out of curiosity of the silver orb. When we arrived it was not in the room where we encounter Al’Nair, but we brought the two tapestries back with us in the hopes that questions could be answered.

The oracle new nothing of the silver orb, though a few magistrates told us a tale of a King who requisitioned his mages to construct an item which would construct buildings overnight. This seemed a dead end, as such an item would be little threat and no one had any clues beyond that simple answer.

The oracle was intrigued, however, when we mentioned the Mindflayer giving us Artificer Shards.

Journal of Qued of Clan Mylobi (3)
Journal of Qued

Hevish 19, 711 YoK

The words from the Oracle were not as helpful as I’d have liked. It seems her approach does not commune with natural spirits as is the way of the Elders, and she could do little more than give us a general direction. Honestly, it was disappointing.

None-the-less, it was the only information we had to go on and so we four struck out. The woods north of town were vacant and there were no signs of life until we arrived at a village of Kycean warriors.

I had my suspicions on the road to the town, but they died at the sight of destruction that awaited us. The village was empty, the bodies of the citizens piled in the center of town and their possessions ransacked, the remains scattered about the square— there was not much of value.

The Changling found a dying man, a young warrior wracked by disease. While he was interogated I searched around the forest at the edge of the village and found the stench of death leading into the forest farther north. When I returned to the party, we decided against following the trail immediately, instead carrying the bed-ridden man back to the oracle in the hopes of more answers.

Though we carried his bed and fought off several zombies to get him to the city, the Oracle did not see fit enough to even venture outside the walls, sending one of her clerics instead. He treated the sick man, we did not ask him his name, with herbs and suggested we have ourselves looked at (though he did not offer to waive the chapel’s fees).

We instead sent the sick man off to the temple, suggesting that should he find himself with strength again in the next few days he join us and avenge his village. We stayed in town for a day to assure ourselves we were not ill, and will be returning to the village to follow the trail further in the morning.

Journal of Qued of Clan Mylobi (2)
Journal of Qued

Hevish 18, 711 YoK

It seems that my new companions and I were in luck that we were not taken from the Fourth Straight. After only a few more hours of travel we happened upon Nugull, a coastal city.

Before the night had let out, our camp was attacked by a rogue skeleton. Though of little threat, especially sense we learned that the Herb is a follower of the Gentle Rain, it did supply us with a better sword and shield than we found at the burial mounds. The confrontation also disclosed that Mr. E is a changeling who amuses himself with impersonations. He has promise, though his lack of smell would cost him dearly against the wrong crowd.

The next day, along the north of where we awoke a bandit attempted to rob us. It was quite comical, if there is any humor in the world at the moment, in that a single man, barely armed and armored, attempted to intimidate a group of four from a hiding spot in the jungle as we walked along the beach. Though we were barely armed ourselves, the attempt was foolish enough to warrant investigation. As he shouted commands at us, demanding our valuables and weapons, I drew a crude map in the sand and my companions followed suit. We dropped our valuables, perhaps a single gold in value, and went our separate ways down the beach to circle back through the jungle to where the man hid.

The fight was a quick one, and the Changeling lost no time in alleviating the man of his armor. I had the Herb revive the youngling, perhaps in his late teens, and gave him a chance to repent of his crimes. He wasted the chance, and was executed. His paltry ruse seemed to have bore him fruit in the past, though, as he had a staff which seemed extremely valuable. Among other things, we took it from him and left his body to rot.

The town was a few miles up the beach, and there we learned nothing of our initial attack. The staff, though, was recognized by a guardsman as belonging to the town’s Seer. When we went to the chapel, we presented her with the staff and were rewarded with a chance to scry our assailant. The spell, we were told, would take several hours and our answers would be available the next morning.

We took the down-time as an opportunity to shop with the chapel’s reward money. The Humans and Changeling decided to enjoy their civilization for the night, I retired to my new tent at the entrance to the city.

With so few answers given this day, I fear another night of haunted dreams. It is pleasant, though, to be back near other sentients. At least there is less to fear here.

From the Journal of Qued of Clan Mylobi
Journal of Qued

date unknown—-

The preceding pages of this journal belong to another soul, one which has sense been made quiet and which shall soon be leased from its vessel. I do not as yet know who it is that took the life of that man, but I do know that the same person has tried to kill me. I cannot recall the details, nor how I managed to survive; all I know is that I awoke several hours ago on a pile of corpses, their mouths open in screams of horror and festering sores on their bodies, at the bottom of a hole prepared for burial; there were two of my kindred among them, though I did not know them.

After climbing out of that pit of death, I beheld two others just like it. From each of these climbed another unfortunate, or perhaps extremely fortunate, soul. One human male refered to himself as Mr. E and another as Herb Cushonberry, a young female human called herself Maia. None of them could recall how they had ended up here, nor had any idea where exactly ‘here’ was.

I spotted a pile of discarded trinkets and began to sift through it. Among the trash, rotting food, and scraps of clothing was a knife; I used it to give my brothers a proper burial. By the time I returned to the camp the others had finished sorting through the rubbish as well and were preparing to travel, leaving a backpack with various items, this journal among them, to me. Having no idea where we were, we simply chose a direction and began walking.

Within a few hours we hit a stretch of ocean, but there were no signs of life in either direction. As it seemed that the sun was setting we decided to pitch camp. The female proved herself useful in helping to secure food and shelter for the night, and even took first watch. I and the Herb were given first rest, though I believe my dreams shall be troubled indeed.

From the Journal of Qued of Clan Mylobi Edit
The Story of a Calup Warrior

The following is the Rise of the Sparrow King Campaign, through the perspective of one of the Party members, Qued of Mylobi


I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.