Posts From a Long Winded Gamer

Weeding Sunday 29th-48 degrees, strong wind, leaves and small twigs in constant motion, flags fully extended
(Royal Expedition in the Swamp-start at room 2, but no progress today)
Immersion- smell: blood
Scene:
I wake the next morning, surprised and annoyed that I had drifted to sleep. I’m sore, tired, and irritated to have lost so much time, and it seems, my freedom. Then I smell it! Blood? I look around and see the Red Prophet lying asleep near the fire. Corvo is perched on top of one of the stones. He is gulping down a cricket or something.

Q: Can I see a source of the blood? NO Q: Is there an altar here? NO

I stand up and look around the area. There are no flies buzzing, no carcass. Just the scent of blood here where the stones are arranged. Not even a stained altar. The odor just lingers.

I open my spellbook and begin reciting the words of divination “Ostend and reveal to me the magic my eyes cannot see” Soon my sight is transformed so I see where the weave warps around these magical stones. There is powerful conjuration magic at the stone circle, but the rest of the area reeks of necromancy. I get a chill down my spine thinking of the kinds of atrocities that must have taken place here to cause such an aura and odor to linger.

“You want to leave here don’t you?” the prophet suddenly speaks. “Your resent having to wait for the Custodian’s return, but you also dare not break your word to do so.”

I snap at the prophet, “If you know me so well, why do you even ask?”

He laughs as he lies back down on the ground, “There is time. We need not hasten to our deaths.”

“Did you have a name before you became the Red Prophet?” I ask. He says yes, and then turns his head and ignores my further questions. I am tempted to kick him, but I guess he knew that I wouldn’t.

Q: Does the custodian return before lunch? EXCEPTIONAL NO Q: in the evening? NO (Two encounters, farmland dressing, though…technically this is forest, but that’s the table I had handy)

We spend the day waiting,, but the Custodian does not return. I walk around some, and find an area of trees that is thick with spiderwebs. The spiders that spun them seem to be of an ordinary variety and I leave them be. In another area, there is a patch of ground where all of the plants seem to have withered away as though from some sort of blight.

Eventually, I return to the camp and lay down. The entire day is wasted! I set my warning runes, and then lay out my bedroll near the fire. This time, I mean to sleep! The Red Prophet looks at it jealously. He is wearing rags, but I at least have my travelling cloak.

“You take it! I’ll wake you when Fate reaches its zenith, then you can stand watch until morning.” I suggest. He readily agrees and I spend the next few hours trying to fend off sleep even longer.

(wandering encounter-Shepherd and flock, but that makes little sense at night)

In the silence of the night, I can hear the distant bleating of sheep. Sometimes, sounds carry a long way.

Weeding Moonday 30th-51 degrees, strong wind, leaves and small twigs in constant motion, flags fully extended
(Royal Expedition in the Swamp-start at room 2, but no progress today)

Immersion: NPC to Me, Idle Chitchat

Scene: I jolt up as my wards alert me to approaching danger, unsheathing my dagger I her, “Ah, another little lady as well. A young one too! Perhaps you’d care for a nice chat. Things can be real friendly like if you put that tiny little blade of yours away”

There are several armed men, rough looking too, at the edge of the clearing. They have Lyra with them. She is bound and looks frightened. Her clothes are torn and her face is bloodied.

The Red Prophet is watching, impassively tending the fire. Sitting there, he does not seem nearly as terrifying as when I first saw him. I resent that he looks to me now, to see what I am going to do in the face of this threat.

I look to the rough looking men and challenge them, “Perhaps you should let your prisoner go, and then drop your weapons if you are in the mood fora friendly chat. Otherwise you might find my words a bit too rough for your tender ears.”

(Intimidate 2 vs target of 14)

The captain of this gang of thugs laughs, “Perhaps I’ll cut out your insolent little tongue. You won’t really need it for what I want from you!”

The custodian is just behind the captain, with the last member of this gang holding her arm. The rest of the thugs are in front of their leader..”Tonitro!” I shout and there is a crack of thunder as loose stones fly up and the force of the sound tosses the men about like ragdolls. Four of the men strike the ground hard and lay still. The face of the man holding the custodian goes white with fear and runs away, leaving the exhausted woman behind. The captain glares at me in rage and hatred as he rushes towards me, drawing his heavy sword, but I am quick on my feet and dodge his clumsy swings. “Impetu!” I yell, and five magical darts rip into the bandit chief. In his rage, he seems not even to notice the pain. I look towards the prophet for help, but he is simply watching, prodding the fire with a stick. Two more spells, globes of acid. The second one strikes the villain, scorching his armor, but still he presses on, unable to hit me as I duck and weave. “Impetu! Die you imbecile!” I shout in frustration as another four missiles find their mark.

Q: Does he give up and run away? YES

“Curse you witch!” he yells, tears of pain streaming down his face as he turns to flee, “You devil woma…”

“Ignus!” I shout, interrupting him with a bolt of flame that strikes him down.

The custodian falls to her knees, thanking me for saving her life. For rescuing her, but I am glaring angrily at the Red Prophet.

“You didn’t have to kill him, you know,” the prophet says. “He was fleeing. The danger had passed. So why did you murder him?”

“Justice,” I say angrily, “The crime he committed against Lyra, the crime he intended for me. The crimes he’s likely committed in the past and those he would likely attempt in the future. He is vermin that preys upon the weak and sows nothing but pain and sorrow. I pulled him out of the world like a weed.”

The Prophet smirks, “A weed is just a plant in the wrong place or season. Were he a soldier in your army, you would value him at your side.”

“If he were at my side in battle, he’d have more value than a philosopher who stokes a fire while a man tries to take off my head!” I say through my gritted teeth.

“You didn’t seem to need my help,” the Prophet replies, standing up at last. He’s a good head taller than me, with a broad frame, though not overly muscular. He smells foul though, as though covered in a year’s worth of sweat and grime.

Q: Was she attacked after helping Dellas YES

I help the custodian to her feet, and with cleaning herself up. She says that she was on her way back to us yesterday morning when she was taken captive. The men had their way with her, and were debating what to do with her afterwards when she hinted there was a magic relic here she could trade for her freedom. She had hoped we were still waiting for her and might be able to help, or that if we fled, that whatever came through the gate would kill them all and she wouldn’t have to endure whatever else they might have in mind for her.

“Do they have a camp nearby?” I ask, thinking not only of the one who fled, but also of the possibility of reclaiming some valuables, perhaps a tent and extra bedroll at least as the stench the Prophet left in mine was rather foul.

Q: Do theyhave a camp nearby? YES Q: Any minor valuable on them besides coin? NO

“Yes,” she says, and then she leads us to it. Before we go, I search the dead men for coins or name chits. Even a cur should not be forgotten. A couple of them have one. I don’t even bother to read their names. I just toss them to the Custodian. Their souls are her responsibilty. She can show whatever mercy she chooses.

Immersion: Touch: Self, Smooth Q: Is the last bandit here? NO Q: Any tents? NO
Scene #42:
We arrive at the bandit campsite, about an hour’s walk from the circle. It is simple but well hidden. A couple of makeshif lean-to’s, a firepit and cooking pot. It appears to be deserted, but I have Corvo look around for me just to make sure. As I wait, a few strands of hair fall across my eyes, as they often do, and I have to smooth them back into place.

Satisfied the camp is deserted, I carefully approach, looking for any sort of traps or alarms that might have been left behind.

Q: Trap? Unsure-YES Perception 7, so…that sucks!

Walking into the camp, I must have tripped some sort of wire, as huge axeblade swings down from a treelimb overhead and…misses me by about four feet. It wasn’t set right to really connect with whoever tripped it. On inspectin, it looks like a woodsman’s axe, but it seemed larger swinging towards me.

Q: Is there loot in the camp? NO

Searching the camp, we salvage a couple of bedrolls and some food, but there is not much else. If these were brigands, they weren’t very succesful ones. Or perhaps the one who got away already came by and claimed what they had stolen. It doesn’t matter at this point. We turn to head towards Whitewood to get the custodian home.

Immersion: Growling
Scene: We reach the village of Whitewood around noon, welcomed by the sound of barking dogs that start to growl as we come closer. This is not an unusual response to strangers entering a farmstead, but it strikes me as a bit odd as the Custodian should be a familiar scent to the animals here.

Some of the villagers rush out to meet Lyra, seeing the state of her clothing and the exhaustion in her eyes. A few give the Red Prophet and I strange looks

Q: Does anyone approach us about what happened? YES Q: His lordship? YES

A well dressed, sandy haired old man and what might be his grandson approach us, followed by a mailed soldier. “Lyra, my daughter, it is good to…what happened?” he asks worriedly as his face goes white.

“She was taken by bandits. They are dead now,” the noble nods at me, gratitude in his eyes as he leads his daughter towards the manor house. Calling back to us, he tells us to rest and eat in his hall while he tends to his daughter.

I look to the Red Prophet, and he shrugs his shoulders. I decide to stop for food.

A short time later, as the Prophet and I are finishing off a roast hen, my belly fuller than it has been in weeks, the nobleman joins us. “Thank you for helping my daughter, and for closing the gate. It threatens to open from time to time, and it is her duty to keep it sealed. You took a great risk helping her in both instances. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

I look from Lord Whitewood to the prophet, and then back to meet the noble’s gaze, “As long as your asking, I could use a squadron of soldiers to help catch a falling star in the Rotten Swamp, but knowing that is unlikely, my companion here needs some clean clothes if anyone in the village has something to spare that will fit him and a bit of coin so I could hire some men would be welcome.”

Q: Does he know of a local adventurer? NO Q: provide clothes? NO Q: Offer men? NO E: New NPC: the Persecution of Business Q: Provide coin? YES Q: Lord’s son? EXCEPTIONAL NO Generate a tax collector type, personality thru UNE

“Well,” his lordship begins, “I hope you will settle for some coin.” He calls for one of his men, a stout looking fellow named Berar, and commands him to fetch two pounds of gold coins as our bounty. The man starts to object when the Lord says the alternative is to provide half a dozen men to hunt treasure in the Rotten Swamp.

“Treasure?” the heavyset man’s eyes light up. “What kind of treasure?”

(Perception 23)

I look him over. He looks soft, weak, groomed as a courtier perhaps, “We seek a star that will fall into the swamp in three days time. The pieces of which bear tremendous magical power. We hope to recover them before they cause damage within the swamp, and forge from them a weapon that can slay a demon…but there may be more one can do with a large enough fragment.” I add, realizing his interest in joining us.

The man strokes his chin thoughtfully, “And you seek men to accompany you? Well, it has been awhile since I’ve worn a blade, but I would be willing to join your expedition for a share of what we find, and of course, the glory of it.”

“Can you truly handle yourself in a fight?” I ask, worried. His lordship snorts in amusement, and the man gives him a wounded look.

“I fought in the goblin wars!”the man protests. His lord then suggests that he can no longer even fit in the suit of mail he wore then. But I agree to let him join us for an even share with any other partners who join us. The man excitedly agrees and heads up to his room to pack, leaving the coins his noble promised us in my grateful hands.

Lord Whitewood shakes his head as his retainer departs. “He has a good heart, and a shrewd mind. But he’s no hardened soldier by any stretch of the imagination. He’s not campaigned since the goblin war, and not much during it truth be told. You’ll need some hardened fighters where you dare to tread.” I nod thoughtfully at these words.

Q: Do we get equipment? YES

It takes nearly an hour for the man to get ready, but he is soon downstairs wearing a steel breastplate with a sword on his belt and a shield slung over his shoulder, and a heavy supply pack. “Milord, I’m taking my stable with us as well, and some other supplies.” The noble waves his hand in resignation and bids us safe travels.

-afternoon and evening encounter rolls both turn up Farmhouses- We pass by them, not desiring to stop and engage with the farmers themselves who wave as we pass by-

Immersion-Smell of wet fur
E: Progress on ‘bright night sky, the lost one, reunion of enemies.’: a Celebration of the Masses

Scene:
We reach the village of Chillspire as the sun sets and the moons come into view. I am on horseback for the first time in a long while, and the smell of the horse’s sweat brings back memories of riding Celeste on a leisurely summer night. She was a good horse.

As we approach the village, we hear the sounds of music and laughter as though a great celebration is underway. The Red Prophet points up at the sky, and in growing darkness, I see a great red star in the sky. “The people take it as a good omen,” he says with a smile. “It is our destiny.”

Benar follows our gaze, “That’s what we are seeking? It’s going to land in the swamp?” he asks incredously. “How do you know?” The Prophet smiles, but does not answer. Benar shoots me a worried look.

“You can return home in the morning if you’d like. But the time draws close, and destiny, whatever it may be, awaits!”, I tell him. He nods, taking a deep breath.

Q: Are the people friendly? EXCEPTIONAL NO Q: Has the Coven warned them of us? NO

Then we enter the village, and suddenly, the music and laughter stop, as all eyes turn towards us. “Alright then, I guess we should just keep going,” I mutter to my companions as I start to guide my horse through the village street.

Q: Does anyone try to stop us? NO Q: Do I see any signs of an enemy? NO Q: is there something about starfall on the monolith? NO Q: Is that village always strange? NO

At the center of the village is a great stone monolith. There are markings upon it, but I don’t dare linger long enough to decipher them, I do notice an image carved into one face as we pass, an image of a great octobpus crawling out from the sea, its arms sweeping away trees and tearing down mountains. I nod towards it, and the Prophet follows my gaze. Pausing just a moment, he then spurs his horse onward a bit faster… Benar and I follow suit.

“That was Drouzal the Destroyer,” I say when we leave town. The Prophet nods in silence, while Benar asks for clarification. I tell him what I know of the cult, and that we are likely to face some of its followers in our quest into the swamp. He says there must be something strange going on, as the people in Chillspire are normally friendly folk.

We pitch our tents in a meadow beyond the fields of Chilspire. I set my wards and we draw lots for watch duty. It is nice to have a tent, though I’d have preferred a warm bed!

-evening encounter-shepherds and flocks again-

During my shift in the middle of the night, I hear the bleating of sheep once more. This time closer than they were at Whitewood. Benar told me about them when he woke me to relieve him. Tells me one of the shepherds and his dog came over to investigate our fire and make sure we weren’t a threat to the flocks. I spend most of my shift watching the red star, and wondering about the Red Prophet. Is the star why he is a “Red” prophet? Then it starts to rain on me, but finally lets up as I wake the Prophet. The tent does me no good as I am outside of it for the duration of the cloudburst!

Weeding Lordsday 31th-52 degrees, strong wind, leaves and small twigs in constant motion, flags fully extended, 4 hours of light rain starting at 1 a.m.
(Royal Expedition in the Swamp-start at room 2, but no progress today, ticks on day one, nothing much day two, insect swarms day three) (Mendy levels up 6th following the bandit encounter. The only unknown spells she has access to right now are Bestow Curse and Animaate Dead, not really her thing, but I’m going to have her claim them. Might come in handy)

Immersion: See something crafted through a gap

Scene (Positive Alteration):
As we load our mounts, I notice a finely crafted wooden box when Benar’s saddlebag comes open. I ask him about it, and he beams with pride. “Listen to this!” he says excitedly, opening up the box to show me. It conceals a tiny clockwork bird, and when he turns a key, the bird begins to sing a melody. At first I cannot grasp it, but then I recall having heard it in Coravos. In Mwydyth’s shop, it was a gnomish birthday tune! I begin to sing along. Benar looks at me in astonishment, “You know the tune?” and I explain to him how I know it, and as it turns out, this box was a gift to him on his twenty first birthday, when he was living in Coravos. The box bears Mwydyth’s signature on the bottom!

-two encounters today, racoon in supplies, farmers & teams (I consult Chat GPT for some possible reasons-friendly, seeking news, seeking help, seeking trade-discussion topic-bargain over recent scene-

We travel through the morning, the Prophet riding in silence while Benar and I talk endlessly about music and artifacts. I show him the clockwork spider that Mwydyth gave me and explain that I just need to find some way to imbue it with a spirit in order to activate it. He is fascinated by the device and the way he can get it to move, wishing we could animate it. He agrees to help me figure out the trick to it if he can.

Noticing the strain his horse is under bearing the man’s weight, I call us to a rest after a couple of hours so he can switch mounts. But while we are taking a break by the waters edge, a couple of raccoons attack our mule, apparently scenting the food in its packs! Benar yells at the beasts, but they hiss at him, bold as brass in their thievery! But a couple of arcane bolts, and i soon have the Prophet sticking the animals on a spit for lunch. Benar tracks down his mule and brings it back to us. The animals destroyed about a third of the food we were carrying on the mule!

We pass through the village of Hallbrawn without incident, but outside of Wedale we are hailed by a group of farmers by the roadside. “Greetings travellers!” they call out. We greet them back, and stop to exchange some pleasantries. They admire our horses, more elegant than the ones they use in their fields, and more beautiful than the warmounts owned by their landlord. I ask them about other travellers on the road these days.

Q: Had they seen any other travellers of interest? EXCEPTIONAL YES Q: Coven members? NO Q: Keepers? NO Q: Adventurers? EXCEPTIONAL NO Q: Do these farmers regard it as a good omen? NO

They tell us that since the red star appeared, several people from nearby villages and outlying farms have been streaming towards Wedale to find out what it means. They are on their way to the temple to seek comfort. Some are fearful, some are joyful, but all are in awe of this strange sign. I ask what they think, and they all agree that it cannot possibly be any sort of good sign. It seems to be closer tonight than last night. But other than pray to their ancestors for protection, there is not much else they can think to do.

Q: does the prophet offer comfort? EXCEPTIONAL NO

I look over at the Prophet, hoping he will offer some words of comfort. He seems disinterested in their situation and fears. I wish the men well, and we continue on our way.

Immersion-Sense-Extreme Heat or Cold

Scene: Finally, the City of Wedale comes into view shortly as dusk falls. The light towers shine brightly in the waning light of the sun, and the colorful windows of the ducal palace sparkle from the lanterns within. The last few workers straggle in from the fields and we join them at the city gates. Suddenly, a chlll wind picks up from across the sea, and I pull my cloak tightly around me. Benar does the same, though the Prophet doesn’t even seem to notice. Even though Wedale stands high upon rocky cliffs, the scent of the ocean still carries its way up to us, and the thunderous crash of waves can be heard clearly as we draw near.

E: Positive for Mendy Bleher: a Dispute over War

“What do you mean you don’t have the money you promised us?” I hear a heavily armored man demand of a rather frightened looking merchant.

A second soldier scoffs, “We escorted your cargo back and forth from Tor Vanim, on ship board, up river through the wilderness into the mountains and back again on the promise of not just our daily wage, but also a five pound bonus on your safe return, and now you are double crossing us?”

“I don’t have the money,” the merchant pleads, “The market turned on us and dwarven steel no longer fetches the price it once did in this port. If you wish to accompany me to Sundar, we can get the money I promised you, but you will have to stay with me until then!” he pleads.

“Weeks at sea, pirates, sea devils and worse? And then what? Another excuse? You are a liar and a cheat!” accuses the first soldier.

At this, a sergeant of the watch and a couple of his men walk over demanding to know what’s going on. I listen in as well. The Prophet watches me, while Benar shares my fascination with the unfolding drama.

Q: Does the sergeant side with the soldiers? Unlikely NO Q: Does he side with the merchant? Likely NO Q: Do the guards let us in? YES

“Look, take this up with the magistrate in the morning, but right now get out of my gate! You are blocking traffic!” the guard says.

The three men go back inside the city walls, and we follow, stopping briefly to state our name and that we are there to visit the markets and find work as a scribe, an accountant, and a laborer. The guard barely even listens to us, simply waving us in after our answers.

I hand the reins of my horse over to Benar and quickly catch up to the two soldiers who are still dogging their former employer, “Hey, hey, hey, maybe I can help you work something out?” I suggest, getting the three men’s attention.

(Persuasion 17 vs DC 10, no harm in listening)

The first soldier looks at me with annoyance, but slight interest, the merchant’s eyes are pleading hopefully for help, while the second soldier, well, he seems rather delighted to see me but I think he isn’t really listening to what I have to say. He has a different sort of smile on his face that makes me draw my cloak a little tighter around my shoulders.

“So, as I overheard, you two men were promised a bonus of 250 crowns each, but you good merchant, have been unable to sell your merchandise with the necessary 500 crown profit to cover that debt, correct?” The merchant nods, slowly, suddenly concerned that the young girl in front of him understands math and business issues, and also looking past me towards Benar who I notice is listening intently to what I have to say, “How about if you sign that debt over to me plus twenty percent, and I pay them what you owe. You pay me 600 Crowns by the 30th of Heyday, by carefully and deliberately selling your merchandise here in Wedale, and not departing this land before the debt is paid, and these two men will come work for me in the meantime. Where they will get their five hundred crowns by dusk tomorrow, and perhaps quite a bit more within two weeks time if they stick with me.”

(Persuasion 10 vs DC 15)

All three of the men shake their heads feeling this is a bad deal all around, then Benar steps in to explain, “What my colleague, Mendy of White Tower, Apprentice of the Archmage Telgast is suggesting is that if the two of you join us in an expedition to the Rotten Swamp, the five of us will likely return very wealthy for she knows the location of a poweful magical artifact that will fetch thousands of gold crowns.” then turning to the merchant, “Or these two men, backed by my silver tongue and connections with the customs officers and other tax officials could spread the word that you are a cheat and a swindler and you will never find any honest men to guard your goods or even trade with you again.” My girthy companion smiles broadly, and I am suddenly very grateful to have him along.

(Persuasion/Intimidation 23 vs DC 15)

The two soldiers, Ambar and Wart, smile broadly, eager to pursue a chance at a windfall as valuable as what Benar suggests, while the merchant, Raneth, has little choice but to agree. Two contracts are drawn up, one securing Raneth’s debt to me, and another guaranteeing Ambar and Wart an even share of any plunder we take from the Rotting swamp. I then ask the two soldiers about lodging, and they lead us to the Sword and Toad Inn. Along the way, we introduce ourselves, or rather, Benar and I introduce ourselves, while the prophet follows along silently helping lead our mounts. We learn that the men are brothers, both having served in the Goblin War and since then they’ve worked for various merchant captains or mercenary companies as fate and fortune allowed. Ambar has a taste for the finer things in life, and Wart, apparently, fancies himself a lady’s man as he has already asked about my husband, fiance, or other possible intended’s and whether Benar and I, or the tall quiet fellow and I might be together. I almost regret having made our deal, but I need swords and have very little time to recruit them!

Not surprisingly, the Inn they lead is to is on “Harlot’s Row”, and while the inn is of good quality, with brick and stone walls, and even glass windows, the patrons are the rough and tumble sort, fighting men by trade. There ae numerous private rooms, no doubt for the benefit of the ladies who walk the streets nearby and their clients. We take a hearty meal of roast mutton and stewed onion and carrot, and then I retire to my room for the rest of the evening to read and update my journal.

As I grow tired from studying magic that had previously caused me nausea but which now seems nearly instinctive to me, I set my protective wards and go to sleep. Knowing this might be the last comfortable bed I sleep in for some time.

Q: are they related? YES Q: Does Wart come around? EXCEPTIONAL NO