The Lorekeeper of Lorelm - D&D 3.5 Campaign

[SilverLeaf167]

The Lorekeeper being myself, the DM, of course.

Lorelm is a setting I've been writing myself - a relatively deep one, if I say so myself, with a wiki (http://levander.wikia.com/wiki/Etusivu) and everything.
Thing is, the wiki is in Finnish. Those few who can read it are free to do so, but I'll also be summarizing the important parts in separate Lore sections.
The journal so far can also be found on the wiki, but I recommend waiting for it to be posted here, as I'll be revising it to be more consistent in style, fixing some errors and perhaps adding something the players (who read the wiki) aren't meant to know.

Lorelm itself is a "standard" high fantasy setting - though it can obviously be adapted for anything, it isn't tailor-made for dungeonpunk, sea adventures or anything else specific and doesn't include that much homebrew. It's the first time that I've actually created the setting before the campaign and done my best to make sure that I can use it in future games as well, in addition to making it freely available for the players to research and comment. This is why it has a full world map and everything, even though individual campaigns are likely to be much more localized. Still, I like to think that I've put enough of my own spin on things to add a little variety while still keeping Lorelm distinctly D&D.

The first campaign, hopefully of many to come, is currently a game in progress. I'm glad I didn't start posting about it right away, as we only ended up having five sessions in a whole year, but the schedule should be more regular from now on. Even if that fails, I still consider what I have worth posting.

OOC discussion, which I'll include in moderation, is written fully in italics.

The Empress' New Fleet
Entry #1: Trial by Tutorial (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20883306&postcount=3)
Entry #2: The Night Shift (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20885723&postcount=4)
Entry #3: Ominous Winds (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20897717&postcount=5)
Entry #4: Just a Pit Stop (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20901877&postcount=8)
Entry #5: Double the Agency (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20908759&postcount=11)

[SilverLeaf167]

The Lore

Background information will be added here and in the session where it becomes relevant or is otherwise mentioned. Feel free to ask about anything and everything, as I'm always happy to ramble!
The Lore may contain spoilers up to the latest session posted! You should check out The Party and the World Map though.


The People
The party starts at level 4.

Agernásson IV
High Elven Ranger (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?233104-Project-Wild-Nature-and-Man(Or-X-race)-combined). A minor noble from the distant Naolach, he is an adventuring cartographer sent to far-away lands as a service to the crown and his family, but an independent operator for all means and purposes. A nimble fighter who wields a chain-sickle and climbing axe while ducking and weaving out of harm's way.
The most experienced player, having "founded" the group with me years ago. Prone to spending plenty of time on optimization and building characters he'll never get to play. Realizes the value of balanced gameplay, though, and doesn't push the issue when I decide to limit his shenanigans.

Trettos
Human Warlock. Though talkative, he doesn't like sharing too much about himself, and even the source of his powers is a mystery. Most mistake him for a normal sorcerer. An almost fiendishly charismatic liar and negotiator capable of fooling even seasoned veterans of the trade. He prefers to use his eldritch powers to fight from afar or avoid combat altogether, but is no slouch in a melee either.
A long-time player who recently returned to the group after an extended absence. Relatively little interest in mechanics but plenty of focus on roleplaying. Likes warlocks and clerics for some reason and has played practically nothing else. Somewhat absent-minded but still probably the most serious party member.

Icaea Hoia
Human Factotum. A warrior and fisherman from an isolated tribe in the Great Wake who was swept away by a sudden storm and ended up in Viramnis. He's something of a genius and natural savant, though, easily absorbing or simply intuiting new languages, knowledge and skills at a glance. Often seems the most knowledgeable about the world despite his background. Wants to return home eventually, but is trying to make the best of this brave new world in the meantime. Wields a combat-adapted fishing spear and a light set of ironwood armor.
A relatively new player with only a couple of sessions under his belt. Certainly enthusiastic, though, and a quick learner. Somewhat silly at times, but then so is the rest of the party.

Gorn Le'Lyana
Human Ardent. Raised in the Ufurcan countryside by his veteran father, who also gave him martial training and equipment. Gorn's father didn't appreciate his reckless use of his psionic talents, though, and he was forced to leave home. Wears a suit of full plate and swings around a greatsword while using his powers to defend himself, maneuver around or just add some variety.
A complete newbie to tabletop gaming, but his experience with D&D-based videogames makes up for it and he understands the mechanics better than Icaea or probably even Trettos. Also interested in the roleplaying aspect, to my pleasant surprise.
Humans
Though other races describe them as "nondescript" physically speaking, humans are very diverse culturally and socially. They worship many different gods and pursue different ways of life, but do have a tendency to organize into myriad groups - more so than any other race - from vast bureaucracies to guilds to military orders to pirate crews to adventuring groups. Their lust for success is only rivaled by their devotion to these groups, which often conflicts with it, and hard work is greatly appreciated. Many turn to crime to make their own luck. The time that they were united under the Elderland Imperium is long gone, and after its fall they've spread to unsettled regions across the sea.

Falazi
The Falazi are a subrace of humans, native to Falaz'gat. They are especially notable for their silvery skin, magical talent and the draconic heritage causing them. In ancient times, they and their draconic patrons put up a good fight, but were eventually conquered by the Imperials, as they refer to the humans of the Elderland Imperium. Despite becoming a minority in their own land, they still remain in the countryside and often rebel against the kingdom that shares their name.

Halflings
The first record of halflings is as slaves brought into the Elderland Imperium, but surviving sources disagree on their place of origin. When the Imperium collapsed, they spread around and out of Viramnis. Most halflings travel the world alone or in small nomadic bands, under the patronage of the Dealer of Chance, God of Luck and Thieves. Those who decline its blessings and decide to settle down, known as Stronghearts, have to deal with a lot of prejudice thanks to their outlaw brethren, and often go out of their way to curb their excesses. It's not uncommon for halflings to become criminals, mercenaries or adventurers for the sheer thrill of it.

Goblinoids
A diverse ”barbaric” race inhabiting the harsh continent of Gatagor. The vast majority live in tribes, many of which are nomadic, though some have settled down and even founded towns of sorts. The rest tend to form pirate clans, terrorizing the Goblin's Sea and the Shatterstones in particular. Their culture is highly militaristic and personal honor (or at least their own view of it) serves as law. The different subraces have a hierarchy of sorts: goblins, hobgoblins, bugbears (from lowest to highest). The bugbears' only real asset is their size and strength, though, so the more intelligent hobgoblins are typically the ones with actual power while the weak and numerous goblins serve as fodder.

Orcs
As an apparent offshoot of goblinoids, there are many similarities in appearance, language and culture. However, orcs inhabit Vapa Inkoti instead of Gatagor. They form the majority of the population in human-ruled Graywind and Redwater. Much like goblinoids, they are famous for their tribal lifestyle and warlike culture, but also for their crafts, and they're much more ”civilized” and used to city life. Others recognize this: they suffer from way less prejudice than goblinoids, though it's clearly still there, and are ubiquitous as mercenaries all around the Emperor's Bay.

The World
http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/levander/images/f/f7/Lorelm_2.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/1024?cb=20150419090549 (http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/levander/images/f/f7/Lorelm_2.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150419090549)

Click the map to enlarge. Some names in Finnish, translations below.
Countries
Harmaatuuli = Graywind
Punavesi = Redwater
Uusi/Vanha Pidus = New/Old Pidus

Regions & Islands
Jätindyynit = Giant's Dunes
Kärmeskoto = Wyrmhome
Liekkivalli = Flamewall
Muinainmaa = Elderland
Murskallio = Shattercliff
Murskivet = Shatterstones
Pakkasselkä = Frostback
Perhosniemi = Butterfly Cape
Rankakivet = Spinestones
Traakinhammas = Draketooth
Tuhkatasanko = The Ash Flats

Seas & Oceans
Hampainmeri = Sea of Teeth
Harmaameri = Gray Sea
Hiidenmeri = Goblin's Sea
Keisarinlahti = Emperor's Bay
Kivenheitto = Stone's Throw
Kuumeri = Moon Sea
Suurlaine = Great Wake
Talvivesi = Winterwater
Valasmeri = Whale Sea
Vihermeri = Green Sea

The Ufurcan Empire
Ufurca is one of the two empires in Viramnis and one of its main military powers. It styles itself the continuation of the Elderland Imperium that ruled the entire continent centuries ago and its primary rival is Ceraris, the other such claimant. Both its politics and culture are heavily militarized and the nation is divided into provinces governed by influential Lord-Generals (and one Lord-Admiral) who tend to feud against each other and even the crown. The population is mostly human and worships (unusually enough) the Ironfist, God of War and Tyranny, whose evil aspects they downplay in favor of emphasizing loyalty and strength. Currently ruled by Empress Parola I Redlare, whom many see as weak for her peaceful views on politics.

Salmo
The largest and richest city in Ufurca, as well as its main port in the critical Emperor's Bay. Ruled by the powerful Lord-Admiral Redsash, who also has control of the Imperial Fleet. Notable for sitting in a massive cove, the sides of which have been accommodated to fit a Temple of the Wavestrider, with the main castle sitting on top.


The Cerarian Empire
Ceraris is one of the two empires in Viramnis and one of its main military powers. It styles itself the continuation of the Elderland Imperium that ruled the entire continent centuries ago and its primary rival is Ufurca, the other such claimant. Though its military is weaker than Ufurca's, it has more economical and political power as well as more focus on wizardry. The mostly human population is rather mainstream in its beliefs, perhaps emphasizing the Second Judge, God of Law and Justice, a bit more than usual.

Princebank
The largest and most important colony in the Shatterstones, often seen as a ”crown jewel” of Ceraris, but still rather small compared to similar cities on the mainland. In addition to serving as a center of trade and shipping, it also has large plantations and gold mines. Though it's probably the safest place on the archipelago, it still has notable issues with crime. This is at least partially thanks to the governor, Avery Cutladd, a textbook of nepotism and corruption at work.

Viramnis
As the homeland of the human race, Viramnis was united under the Elderland Imperium for a thousand years before it was shattered by a massive civil war, allowing the modern nations to form over the next several centuries. Actually used to be connected to Gatagor, but the continent was split in two by the Imperium's use of the world-rending artifact known as the Firmament, allowing them to win their massive war against the goblins inhabiting it. Viramnis is diverse, but rather fertile and the most densely populated. Most of its countries are human monarchies, but Repesa is a theocratic city-state and Horidea stands out as a high elven republic. Ceraris, Ufurca and Glacruor are the primary military powers.
Shatterstones
A large archipelago right between Viramnis, Vapa Inkoti and Gatagor. It was created when the artifact known as the Firmament shattered the land bridge between modern-day Viramnis and Gatagor. The islands are extremely fertile and rich in minerals, but constantly have to deal with abnormal weather, other magical phenomena and abundant pirates. They are an area of great interest for many nations, which have long tried to colonize them with varying levels of success.

The Magic
Wavestrider
God of Water and the Seas. Neutral Good. Understandably respected by seafarers all over the world, but Icaea's native tribe worships it almost monotheistically and so does he. The Wavestrider's priests are generally responsible for blessing newly built ships, for instance, which explains their position in Salmo, and most larger vessels have small shrines on board as well.

Second Judge
God of Law and Justice. Lawful Good. Obviously a rather popular god, and probably the one with the most paladin orders devoted to it. Priests and devotees are to study and possibly teach law, but normal priests don't actually practice it, trusting the Second Judge's earthly representative - the justice system - to work under its blessing. Often seen as a strict but just and righteous patron.
Alchemist's fire
A sticky black liquid typically carried in small, resilient flasks. It has to be carefully procured and bottled by trained professionals, as it ignites immediately and violently upon any contact with oxygen or too much heat. Small amounts simply burn – even in water – but larger batches may result in a dangerous explosion. Despite its obvious risks, the potential applications of this proto-napalm make it popular among militaries, pirates and many others.

[SilverLeaf167]

Entry #1: Trial by Tutorial

The Ufurcan Empire, port city of Salmo. Dire Mussel Tavern.

The infamous, gloomy drinking hole smells quite suspicious and is filled with very varied folk. Apart from customers of various races, the half-orc woman guarding the door and the dwarven bartender stand out. Icaea, who has been working at the local Temple of the Wavestrider, is looking for a sailor who has supposedly discovered something about his home islands' location. Unfortunately, the bartender is unable to help. Gorn and Agernásson (completely unaffiliated) are just drinking and recovering from their travels, while Trettos asks the bartender for work. Gorn inches up to listen in.

Trettos: ”Has there been anything weird happening lately?”
Bartender: ”Aye, as always... Maybe a few more lurkers by tha docks, but can't think of nothing else.”
Trettos: ”Oh yeah? Happen to have any work available?”
Glancing around suspiciously, the bartender hands Trettos a small piece of paper and retreats into the kitchen. The note, which Gorn reads as well, says only: ”Backroom, upstairs.”

In a split second someone bumps lightly into both Agernásson and Icaea and slips them similar notes. Agernásson sees a glimpse of a brown-haired man before he pulls up his hood and disappears into the crowd. All four shrug and decide to follow the instructions, out of curiosity if nothing else, and share a few confused looks while clambering up the stairs.

At the end of the second-floor balcony there is a lonely door, on which Gorn dubiously knocks. A voice calls them in: inside is a very simple room with a window to the street, a wooden table and a single chair. On that chair is a man clad in red-and-silver armor, recognizable as a high-ranking guard uniform. The man himself, on the other hand, is notable for his withdrawing dark hairline, clean-shaven face and fiercely tired leer. He silently pours whiskey into four glasses and offers them to the freshly-founded party. Gorn and Trettos accept, but Agernásson already has a pint of weird-tasting beer from the bar and Icaea declines politely. The man shrugs and starts sipping his own drink.

Man: ”You're probably wondering why you're here.”
Awkward silence.
Man: ”I'm not quite sure either, but my recruiters thought you were a good choice. Our standards might be a little low these days. Trying to act in secret can be impractical sometimes”
Trettos: ”Excuse me, but who exactly are you?”
Man: ”I am the Vice-Commander of the Salmo City Guard, looking for assistance in a discreet task. It is very significant for the security of the city, if not the nation, and would surely be very profitable for you as well.”
No one has any particular devotion to Ufurca, but money is always nice, and all four already have some experience with similar work.
Icaea: ”And what's this task then?”
VC: ”Unfortunately I cannot tell you quite yet. I'll have to confirm your suitability first... if you're interested.”

Agernásson: ”Oh great, a side quest already?”
Gorn: ”More like a tutorial.”

VC: ”A group of pirate vessels got too close to the city, so they were obviously sunk. However, one was reported to have escaped, and probably hidden in a certain cove about ten miles from here. I can't send my guards on such a mission, and though the army may be an option... I might as well send you.”
Agernásson: ”So what exactly are we supposed to do? Confirm their location?”
VC: ”What must be done to pirates. Bring the ship's flag as proof. Just follow the coast to the west, and you'll definitely find them.”

With this brief briefing out of the way, Vice-Commander disappears into the night and the baffled party is left alone. They introduce themselves to each other, though not in too much detail, and decide to stay at the Manticore Inn next door; the Dire Mussel no longer offers boarding after being destroyed one too many times.
In the morning, after brief negotiations the party decides to walk for a couple hours rather than get a possibly expensive boat or horses. Following a quiet country road, they finally see smoke rising from between the trees and creep closer: the badly damaged ship, surrounded by almost a dozen pirates, has been steered into a small cove surrounded by rocky cliffs. Some of the bandits have gathered around a fire, while a few are further apart or on the deck of the ship; one is floating face down in a patch of bloody water. None seem to have noticed the party. They plot their tactics for a moment and get into position.
A man separated from the others is entangled by Trettos' eldritch blast and separated from his lower body by Gorn's greatsword. The rest of the party jumps the ones hanging around the fire, but despite the element of surprise the fight drags on. Nimble as Icaea and Agernásson may be, both sides take and receive blows in almost equal measure. Especially the ferocious orc wielding an enchanted falchion proves a tough nut to crack. The fight also attracts attention onboard the ship, where two archers prepare to fire. A gnome hangs back, notices Trettos hiding behind a rock and surprises everyone with an eldritch blast of his own, but Trettos ducks back behind the rock and he misses.
With a leap boosted by a short dimension hop, Gorn suddenly appears on deck and cleaves an archer in twain in one swift movement. The other one panics and tries to escape across the railing, where he stumbles into the shallow water, allowing the victorious party to capture him and let Icaea tie him up. The gnomish warlock exhales a thick cloud of smoke and hides inside it.

The party approaches the smoke with care. Agernásson decides to step inside and swing his chain around, but doesn't hit anything but the mast. Perhaps a little foolhardily he starts climbing it. Suddenly someone leaps from the mast and slashes him on the way down, leaving two deep cuts on his back. The gnome also appears from inside the cloud, jumps on top of a beam and fires at the party, but is quickly shot down by Gorn and Trettos. The unseen attacker, however, is effortlessly evading Agernásson's half-blind attacks; Icaea thinks he has a perfect strike lined up, right in the back of the head, only to have his spear swatted aside right before impact. At least this seems to convince the foe to retreat: leaping into the air, pushing off the mast and twirling over the party's heads. Only a splash is heard and the fight is over as quickly as it began. All the party could see in that split moment outside the smoke was a slender figure in dark armor, wielding a bloodied kukri in each hand. They can see no movement in the water.
They retrieve the bright white flag from the mast and search the almost empty ship, where they find a lot of mostly or completely ruined cargo, a nice chest of silver, an empty Bag of Holding and a boxful of small bottles of alchemist's fire. After liberal application of Icaea's healing wand and with the surprisingly cooperative prisoner in tow, they decide to pile the bodies onto the ship and light it on fire. An undiscovered stash of alchemist's fire explodes moments later, providing a nice backdrop as they head towards Salmo.
The Ufurcan Empire
Ufurca is one of the two empires in Viramnis and one of its main military powers. It styles itself the continuation of the Elderland Imperium that ruled the entire continent centuries ago and its primary rival is Ceraris, the other such claimant. Both its politics and culture are heavily militarized and the nation is divided into provinces governed by influential Lord-Generals (and one Lord-Admiral) who tend to feud against each other and even the crown. The population is mostly human and worships (unusually enough) the Ironfist, God of War and Tyranny, whose evil aspects they downplay in favor of emphasizing loyalty and strength. Currently ruled by Empress Parola I Redlare, whom many see as weak for her peaceful views on politics.

Salmo
The largest and richest city in Ufurca, as well as its main port in the critical Emperor's Bay. Ruled by the powerful Lord-Admiral Redsash, who also has control of the Imperial Fleet. Notable for sitting in a massive cove, the sides of which have been accommodated to fit a Temple of the Wavestrider, with the main castle sitting on top.

Wavestrider
God of Water and the Seas. Neutral Good. Understandably respected by seafarers all over the world, but Icaea's native tribe worships it (yes, gods are mostly genderless) almost monotheistically and so does he. The Wavestrider's priests are generally responsible for blessing newly built ships, for instance, which explains their position in Salmo, and most larger vessels have small shrines on board as well.

Alchemist's fire
A sticky black liquid typically carried in small, resilient flasks. It has to be carefully procured and bottled by trained professionals, as it ignites immediately and violently upon any contact with oxygen or too much heat. Small amounts simply burn – even in water – but larger batches may result in a dangerous explosion. Despite its obvious risks, the potential applications of this proto-napalm make it popular among militaries, pirates and many others.
Thus begins the party's righteous quest to burn or blow up something at the end of each session.

These portions will just include my assorted rambling, mostly my thoughts on the session and the party, but sometimes I might be inspired to talk about something else, too.

As the name implies, this first session really was quite short and simple, and a way for the complete newcomers of the group to get some basic grasp of the game. Literally starting at a tavern was both an intentional nod to the cliché and, well, an easy way to get the campaign rolling. :smalltongue:

I was pleased to discover that all the players have pretty good chemistry. Our last setup was slightly dysfunctional at times, as the players had differing ideas of how serious the game should be, but everyone here seems to occupy a comfortable middle ground of joking around while still getting things done. They've given me the liberty of deciding which parts are ”canon” and ignoring their sillier shenanigans, which they're often slightly embarrassed of.

Also, as you can see, the Lore section can also include notes on relatively normal stuff if, well, I just decide I want to write about it. Alchemist's fire, for instance, seems to be an oddly recurring theme with my group, so I decided I might as well add a little bit of flavor text.

[SilverLeaf167]

Entry #2: The Night Shift

The sun shines as the party walks down the path. After a while the tied-up pirate they're dragging around opens his mouth:
”Hey, I know where the boss went. If you let me loose, I can lead you there.”
Agernásson: ”Where exactly?”
”We have, uh, a small hiding place further down the coast. I'm sure that's the place.”
The party has a long discussion about the prisoner's offer within full earshot of him: ”Should we cut off a limb or something?” ”Nah, we can just shoot him if he tries anything...” ”Yeah, but what if he's secretly a mage?”
Finally the anxious lad speaks up again: ”Uh, never mind! There's no hideout and I have no idea about the boss. I'd rather take my chances with the guard than with y'all.”

The frustrated party drops him off at the city gates, where two guards have been waiting. They leave to take him to jail and say the party is expected at the harbor market. Upon arrival they see the Vice-Commander, standing by the docks, shoo away the officers he was talking to and beckon the party to approach.
VC: ”Well, you're still in one piece. Did you find anything?”
Trettos: ”Yup, the ship was there and so were the pirates. You want the flag?”

Agernásson: ”Should we just sell it?”
Gorn: ”Sell a blank piece of cheap cloth? For what, a beer?”
Trettos: ”Now that I think about it, how does this flag prove anything in the first place?”
Agernásson: ”Hey, can I make a parachute out of this?”

The Vice-Commander takes the flag in his hands and eyes it for a few seconds. As he tosses it aside, it suddenly combusts and burns to ash before even hitting the ground, startling the party a bit.
VC: ”Well done. I suppose you're ready for your actual job now...” he grunts and points at a walled-off area in another part of the harbor. ”That there is an Imperial shipyard. Salmo recently received a big and important order from the the Empress herself, and it's been going well enough for now. However, there has been more and more suspicious activity in the vicinity, and far too many mishaps to be considered accidents. Now, I'd take care of it myself, but...”
Trettos: ”Not your job, eh?”
VC: ”Yes, indeed. The shipyard is the Empress' personal property, and we city guards thus have no right to operate there, but the crown's own security arrangements are terrible. Even then, it'd be trouble for both the city and us guards if anything went wrong, so I want you to make sure it doesn't.”
Agernásson: ”Can you be more specific?”
VC: ”Nothing scary, just keep a lookout inside the compound for the next few nights. Here's the key to the back door; and remember, this is all strictly unofficial. If anyone asks, this conversation never happened, and if you get in trouble it's not my problem.”
The Vice-Commander starts to walk away and takes a chug from a hip flask, but turns around to say one more thing to Icaea, who has been keeping quiet: ”Oh yes, some priests have been running around looking for you. Something about work shifts and stolen wands. They even came to the guard barracks. I suggest you check in with them.”
Gulping loudly, Icaea says he'll see the others soon and heads for the Temple of the Wavestrider .

The rest of the party sells some of their loot for pocket change; Gorn decides to get rid of his old greatsword and use the orcish pirate's falchion instead. After dark, they head to the shipyard. Icaea hasn't arrived yet, but they'll just have to do without him.
This shipyard is but one of many: a drydock with three separate basins, all of which have unfinished ships in them, connected to the sea through floodgates. There are ladders and rudimentary, winch-operated elevators into each basin. The ground level is mostly one big courtyard with tall walls of stone, containing a variety of warehouses, an office of sorts and many stacks of timber and other materials.
Trettos, Gorn and Agernásson find good positions where they can see the entire area without being too visible themselves. All the workers have left and the only guard at hand seems to be a feeble, sleepy old man who spends most of his time inside the office, the light of his lantern shining faintly through the windows.
Not much happens all night. At one point there's a lot of racket outside the walls, but Trettos – peering from a rooftop – sees that it's just a fight between two drunken dwarves with a crowd cheering them on, soon dispersed by the guards.
As the sun starts to rise and the city wakes up, the yawning party sneaks back out and spends most of the day sleeping before heading back the next evening.

It's a clear moonlit night. Sometime after midnight the bored watchmen are alerted by the light inside the cabin going out all of a sudden. Agernásson peeks through the window but doesn't see anything inside. The party barely has time to slip back into cover before a group of four dark-cloaked figures clambers up from the sea, onto the floodgates. Without a moment's hesitation, they start running along the walkways separating the basins, clearly headed for the buildings.
Agernásson is the first to act. He abandons his concealing stack of planks and charges the nearest infiltrators, whom he now recognizes as two halflings with dog-like masks. He intercepts them on the narrow pathway and swings his chain, which is easily dodged. While the halflings continue to duck and weave, a man in a dragon mask casts a fierce blast of wind that sends Agernásson stumbling head-first into one of the basins. Gorn jumps out to engage the two halflings, but has little luck trying to actually hit them.

Trettos flings a couple eldritch blasts at the fourth, fish-masked attacker, who simply dodges them, ignores him and runs straight into the nearest warehouse, breaking the door open with the blunt end of spear. Rather than give chase and leave his vantage point, Trettos focuses on the mage, who has now descended into another basin. He responds with a painful scorching ray of his own but is soon trapped in Trettos' eldritch bindings, ruining any attempts at spellcasting. As a last resort, he tries to charm Trettos and beg for mercy, but fails pathetically. Trettos just watches from above as the man is finished off by his blast's residual damage.
This brief triumph is interrupted by the telltale crash and whoom of alchemist's fire ringing out from the warehouse. Fish-mask crashes out through the window, brandishes his spear and starts a pitched battle against both Gorn and Trettos.
The dog-masked halflings take this opportunity to enter the office, but Agernásson has made it out of the basin and is hot on their trail. He reaches the office just in time to see the pair grab a pile of random documents from the desk and dash out the open door, which leads out of the whole compound (there's no trace of either the old man or his lantern). He chases them and manages to trip the more wounded halfling. The two companions give each other a solemn nod: one sprints off down the street, while the one Agernásson caught lets out the best war shout his little lungs can manage and leaps at him with a shortsword in hand. The tiny blade scrapes against his armor. Agernásson smirks and finishes the little bugger off with his axe, only to look up and see the other one disappear into a narrow sewer.

Meanwhile, the drawn-out melee between the others has moved onto the roof of the burning warehouse. The fish-masked man has proven a worthy opponent, all three combatants have received their share of wounds and the situation is quite literally heating up. Gorn aims a mighty swing of his falchion at the enemy's face, slicing the mask in half and revealing...

Gorn: ”Icaea?”
Party: *laughter*'
DM: ”Uh...”
...Icaea, with glazed eyes, a furious scowl and a rather nasty cut on his face.
Gorn: ”What!?”
Trettos: ”Wow, I actually DIDN'T see that coming...”

It is readily apparent that he is under some kind of domination spell. As the party hesitates, Icaea senses his opportunity. He gathers his last strength to jump backwards and toss his eight-foot longspear through the air, piercing Trettos' knee. As Trettos stumbles limply, Gorn hits Icaea with a non-lethal concussive blast, finally knocking him out.
There's no time to gawk at the situation, though. The fire has been noticed and people will surely start showing up soon, so the party dumps the two bodies into their Bag of Holding and flees the area, Icaea and Trettos being carried by the others. They show up at the Manticore Inn, receive a nonchalant greeting from the man at the counter (clearly used to such things) and retreat upstairs, where they heal their wounds and scan Icaea for clues. The only thing they find, though, is a small silver medallion with spiral engravings, clearly radiating magic... They take it off, but decide to hold onto it for now.

In the morning, the party (apart from the still-unconscious Icaea) comes down to the lobby, only to find it completely deserted apart from the Vice-Commander, who definitely doesn't look very pleased.
Agernásson: ”You knew where we're staying?”
VC: ”Of course I did! But that's irrelevant. Sit down.”
He sighs deeply.
VC: ”So I presume last night wasn't exactly a grand success, huh?”
Agernásson: ”What do you mean? Four people snuck in, but we took care of them.”
VC: ”By which you mean you let half the shipyard burn down, lost a lot of important documents...”
Agernásson: ”Well...”
VC: ”...and left two of the basins flooded?”
Trettos: ”What?”
Gorn: ”Someone must have done that after we left!”

The Vice-Commander rubs his temples and takes another drink.
VC: ”Our working relationship isn't exactly off to a good start. This is the biggest setback of the project so far. Please tell me you at least found some clues? There were no bodies.”
Trettos: ”Yeah, we took them. Uh, Icaea was with the attackers and fought us under some kind of spell. We found this on him; it probably has something to do with it.”
VC: ”You...took the bodies? Hmm... these markings look somehow familiar. I'll try to look into it: for now, just try to lay low, alright? And keep an eye on that friend of yours. I'll contact you if – if – I have something more for you to do.”
Agernásson: ”Hey, what about our reward?”
VC: ”After all this? Really? Just be glad I'm not charging you. Drop the bodies at the guard station, would you?”

The Vice-Commander walks out, leaving the party to wonder what to do next.
Halflings
The first records of halflings is as slaves brought into the Elderland Imperium, but surviving sources disagree on their place of origin. When the Imperium collapsed, they spread around and out of Viramnis. Most halflings travel the world alone or in small nomadic bands, under the patronage of the Dealer of Chance, God of Luck and Thieves. Those who decline its blessings and decide to settle down, known as Stronghearts, have to deal with a lot of prejudice thanks to their outlaw brethren, and often go out of their way to curb their excesses. It's not uncommon for halflings to become criminals, mercenaries or adventurers for the sheer thrill of it.
Icaea's player couldn't be present for this session, but he approved my plan for his character. I like how it turned out, killing two birds with one stone by explaining his absence while tying it into the plot.

The players commented that they really liked the battle at the shipyard, as it allowed them to move all around the area and pull off interesting maneuvers, including the dramatic climax on a burning rooftop. And yes, despite joking about it, they actually were surprised by the fish-mask's identity.

[SilverLeaf167]

Entry #3: Ominous Winds

Icaea wakes up in his room with a terrible headache and a nasty scar running across his face. Dazed and confused, he walks down the stairs to the lobby where the others are discussing the situation.
Icaea: ”Okay, first of all, why is my face messed up?”
Everyone points at Gorn.

The party tells Icaea everything they know, and he shares his very limited perspective:
When he went to the temple two days ago, the abbot lambasted him for disappearing and skipping work. He was also blamed for the disappearance of a healing wand from the inventory, but it was on Trettos at the moment, so they had no real proof. On his way back to the tavern, he suddenly got very woozy in the middle of the street and passed out in an alley. His next memory was waking up in bed this morning.
He has no idea where the medallion came from, but he does recognize the stylized spiral pattern as Wavestrider's symbol. The party is determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, but first they head to the guard station, their Bag of Holding dripping blood along the way. They get a few weird looks, but most passers-by seem to consider it business as usual after realizing that they're a ragtag band of rugged men in full arms and armor. The station is located in front of the entrance to the main castle. They are greeted by two guards at the door who confirm that they've indeed been informed of a... sensitive delivery on the way.

Trettos: ”But surely there is a reward for delivering the remains of wanted criminals?”
Guard 1, to his friend: ”Is there?”
Trettos: ”I rolled a natural 20 for Diplomacy, plus 14!”
Guard 2: ”Yeah, I suppose, but...”
Trettos: ”500 silver, I reckon?”
Guard 2: ”Sounds about ri-”
Trettos: ”Each?”
Guard 1: *sigh* ”Take your money, leave the bodies and go!”
The party insists on rolling Diplomacy for every other sentence for the rest of the session, with disturbingly high results at times.
He literally dumps the bodies on the ground and the party heads to the temple.

The Temple of Wavestrider is located in the cliff face below the castle, accessible from the inside of the cove and facing out to sea. A larger version of the medallion's symbol is displayed on the wall. The main hall is partially below sea level and water flows through holes in the walls, creating a very atmospheric series of waterfalls and pools.
Icaea: ”Under water level? But-”
DM: ”Yes, I realize that. Magic pumps.”
The party finds Abbot Polypos speaking with a lesser priest in the main room near the altar. Upon spotting Icaea, he stops talking and scowls a bit.

Abbot: ”Oh yes, you. What is it?”
Icaea: ”We found this medallion with Wavestrider's symbol on it. Would you have any idea what it is?”
Abbot: ”Yes, that is indeed our symbol, but I-”
Priest: ”Oh, I recognize that! Those are sold at the local jewelry shop.”
Agernásson: ”Really? Is there something special about them?”
Priest: ”Well, I think so. Something to do with magic connections.”
The party shares a meaningful glance.
Agernásson: ”Do you make them here?”
Priest: ”No, they're not exactly our primary product. I think it's some monastery in the countryside. They're sold right here in the city, though, at the Honeyed Soul! It's at the central market.”
The party thanks the helpful priest and the less-than-helpful Abbot for their time and heads to the market, joking about the shop's cheesy name and wondering whether it's secretly a brothel.

The Honeyed Soul turns out to be a pleasant family business at the edge of the market square, which is bustling with stalls and customers. As the party steps in through the door, they bump into a happy customer on her way out. A friendly old man smiles at them from behind the counter and speaks in a soft voice:
Merchant: ”Welcome to the Honeyed Soul! How may I aid you today?”
Trettos: ”Hello, we were wondering whether you carry this specific sort of merchandise.”
Merchant: ”Ah yes, a Heartlock! We do indeed sell those!”
Icaea: ”That name sounds... ominous.”
Merchant: ”Oh, it is not! They are very popular as a gift among couples. They're sold in pairs, see, and the only way to open them is to bring them both together and say the magic word! Very romantic, you see?”
Icaea: ”So is there some way to... track the other medallion?”
Merchant: ”Uh... Why do you ask? Are you going to buy anything?”
Agernásson: ”Don't tell him anything! We can't spread this around too much.”
Icaea: ”We found this one-”
Agernásson: ”Technically true.”
Icaea: ”- and want to return it to its rightful owner. It's clearly very important, right?”
Merchant: ”Ah, how romantic! A man after my own heart! Well, you see, finding the other pair should be easy: just watch!”

The merchant dangles the medallion in the air. After a few seconds, it stabilizes and stays facing the same direction, no matter how much the merchant moves his hand. Agernásson, a cartographer with a perfect sense of direction, deduces that direction to be southeast of here.
Agernásson: ”Did you sell this particular piece? Would you happen to remember who bought it?”
Merchant: ”I recognize and remember every piece of jewelry I've sold in my life! ...Well, almost at least. It was a foreign-looking elven couple a couple months back. I remember noticing that they paid in Princebank currency. You don't see a lot of that around here.”
Agernásson recognizes Princebank as the biggest island and city of the Shatterstones, a major archipelago to the southeast. It also happens to be a colony of the Empire of Ceraris, Ufurca's main competitor, making it even more suspect. As the party leaves the shop, the sweet old man wishes them luck on their way. They follow the medallion all the way to port, but it refuses to budge, so they come to the logical conclusion.

They march back to the guard station, where they just so happen to run into the Vice-Commander. He pulls them aside, but barely has time to open his mouth before Trettos explains the situation in five sentences shoved into five seconds.
Trettos: ”So to summarize, give us a ship and we'll be on our way!”
VC: ”You believe the suspects are at the Shatterstones?”
Agernásson: ”Yes!”
The Vice-Commander drinks again and takes a second to gather his thoughts. From his demeanor, it is clear that he's had a rough day dealing with the repercussions of the Drydock Disaster: ”I didn't think too much of it, but there was a report early this morning of a ship departing in that direction, after a halfling hopped on board. I was too busy at the time to think too much of it, but in light of this, it was probably the same halfling you let slip earlier. I wouldn't mind getting you out of my hair, so... yes, I'll arrange for a ship.”
Icaea: ”It's personal at this point.”
Trettos: ”Excellent! Now we'll just need a crew, and some supplies, and-”
VC: ”Calm down, I didn't mean I'd actually give you dolts a vessel. I'll arrange a ride on one. Just... wait at the docks, I'll take care of it. Somehow.”
Gorn: ”Is it just me, or are ships becoming something of a running theme?”

The party complies. They consider going to a bar and starting a fight to pass the time, but decide against it. They later see a messenger deliver a letter and pouch of coins to one ship, the captain of which shouts at them over the railing: ”Hey, are you the ones I'm supposed to take on board?”
The Marius is a smallish trading ship with only 15 crew members and two other passengers. The captain introduces himself as Merryll; the two other passengers are a young man named Lorry and a ”young” wood elf woman named Flann with short white hair (Agernásson gives an estimate of about 100 years – he himself is 62). The trip should take about two weeks, and other than admiring the turquoise waters of Emperor's Bay there isn't much to do (Icaea tries fishing, with little luck) so they have time to talk. Lorry's father – a Salmese nobleman – is paying for his travels: he is the second son, so he feels that he has no future back home and must find his own. Flann is looking to start a new life, too, but only because the rest of her band of merchants was killed by bandits.

Trettos: ”Oh, I can be your new life.”
The table snickers. Flann scoffs.
Trettos: ”Uh... Gorn can be your new life?”
Another natural 20 is rolled. The table erupts in laughter.
Though the pick-up line itself isn't too successful, it does break the ice and get the two talking. Gorn and Flann somehow end up sleeping together. Muscular Gorn sunbathing on the upper deck might have helped. Lorry seems rather jealous, but seems to get along with the others at least, Icaea in particular.

Everything seems to be going well, until a sudden storm rises on the ninth evening of the trip. Captain Merryll reassures them that the weather is always a bit weird near the Shatterstones and that everything will be alright. Of course, in the middle of the night, the room to Gorn and Flann's room is kicked open by a fearsome sahuagin, brandishing a trident at them. It charges inside and strikes Gorn in the side, but Flann's first reaction is to grab a knitting needle from the table and shove it into the sahuagin's chest! It reels backwards in surprise, allowing Gorn to send it flying out the door with a devastating concussion blast. It collapses on the floor, bleeding, while all the other cabins are woken up by the explosive noise of the blast.
As they see the sahuagin sprawled in the hallway, they take a moment to find their armor and weapons (except for Gorn, who'd take far too long to put on his full plate, but is decent enough to at least wear some clothes). Apart from the storm raging outside, they hear a lot of noise from both the deck and the cargo hold. Without hesitation, Flann heads downstairs and tells the others to take care of the rest. They don't even think to protest. Lorry cowers in the corner of his cabin.

It's quite a grim sight up there: two sailors already lie dying on the deck, while a few more are feebly resisting the half-dozen sahuagin. The party is just in time to see Merryll get decapitated by the sahuagins' apparent leader, a hulking beast at least eight feet tall, wielding four blades in four hands. They leap to action, each picking an enemy to focus on.
Trettos uses his spiderwalk to quickly climb into the nearest mast and fire at the biggest sahuagin, standing on the aftcastle. The noxious residue emitted by his eldritch blast both assaults its senses and hinders its movements. After effortlessly dodging a crossbow bolt, Agernásson heads for the sahuagin responsible and buries an axe in its shoulder, but is intercepted by the four-armed "brute", spewing curses in a foreign language and twirling its weapons. Letting one of them hit his forearm allows Agernásson to evade the rest, which are slowed down noticeably by Trettos' blast. A hectic melee follows as Agernásson attempts to penetrate the storm of swords, the crossbow-wielding sahuagin trying and failing to hit anything at all.
Icaea leaps onto the forecastle railing, but his spearblow aimed at a sahuagin is blocked by its trident. As a number of sailors stare in awe, the two engage in a long and dramatic duel, but seem very evenly matched. Their polearms keep clashing against each other to no effect. One would expect it to be over quickly: Icaea has the high ground, balancing on the railing, yet he underestimates his enemy. At one point another four-armed sahuagin (hiding in a mast) tries to leap at him from behind, but the blunt end of his spear strikes it in the stomach and it stumbles down to the main deck without him even noticing.

Gorn, meanwhile, only even attempts a few blows before deciding these sahuagin are tougher than he imagined and that Flann might actually need some help. He dimension hops through the floor hatch, leaving behind a very confused enemy waiting for an attack that never came. It seems eerily quiet in the cargo hold, but as he runs down the stairs, the reason is apparent: one sahuagin has been nailed to the wall with a kitchen knife through its head, another's neck has been snapped and a third is lying on the floor with Flann currently in the process of choking it to death. Four sailors, two of whom are wounded, have taken shelter in the back of the hold. Flann stares at Gorn with an almost sheepish look on her face.
Gorn finishes off the sahuagin and tells Flann to hurry upstairs after making sure the sailors are okay. She barely has time to respond before he dimension hops away again.

Agernásson and Trettos team up to eventually defeat the four-armed brute. Icaea, meanwhile, is far from done. His nemesis uses its trident to sweep his legs from under him and drop him off the railing, right onto the second four-armed beast waiting on the floor below. It grabs him and leaves some nasty claw marks, but he manages to squirm free and hop upright just in time to dodge the spearman jumping down on him. As the sahuagin tries to free its trident from the wooden floor, Icaea finally finds the inspiration to pierce its heart in one clean thrust.
Gorn returns to knock a few wounded foes into the sea with concussion blasts. The remaining brute manages to grab Agernásson, but Icaea defies the odds of hitting his ally and successfully pierces the monster's arm, freeing the elf from its grasp. The brute is killed just in time for Flann to finally arrive, wielding two knives and wondering where all the sahuagin went. The battle for the Marius has been won, but at a great cost.

The party has only a short moment to rejoice. As it turns out, half the crew has been killed in this sudden attack. To make things worse, lightning strikes the mast Trettos was still sitting in! Though he falls down the hatch with only relatively mild injuries, the mast catches on fire and falls over. The surviving crew starts running around, trying to keep the fire in check, and the first mate takes the rudder, but it doesn't take long for a one-masted, half-crewed ship in a storm to run aground.
Shatterstones
A large archipelago right between Viramnis, Vapa Inkoti and Gatagor. It was created when the artifact known as the Firmament shattered the land bridge between modern-day Viramnis and Gatagor. The islands are extremely fertile and rich in minerals, but constantly have to deal with abnormal weather, other magical phenomena and abundant pirates. They are an area of great interest for many nations, which have long tried to colonize them with varying levels of success.

The Cerarian Empire
Ceraris is one of the two empires in Viramnis and one of its main military powers. It styles itself the continuation of the Elderland Imperium that ruled the entire continent centuries ago and its primary rival is Ufurca, the other such claimant. Though its military is weaker than Ufurca's, it has more economical and political power as well as more focus on wizardry. The mostly human population is rather mainstream in its beliefs, perhaps emphasizing the Second Judge, God of Law and Justice, a bit more than usual.
As I made clear to the players, the first sailing trip of any campaign ending in an attack and a shipwreck is a tradition I will not budge from. :smalltongue: Besides, it was actually a first for half the party. It does tie into the actual plot, though, so it's not that bad... probably.

For some reason, we had a lot of fun comparing Icaea's duel to the battle against Darth Maul. The players insisted on playing Duel of the Fates (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzVBqBosf5w) whenever Icaea's turn came up. There were a lot more jokes about it, too, but I didn't really include them here as they seemed clunky without full context.

[SilverLeaf167]

I don't mean to sound whiny, but given the lack of comments, I'd like to know whether there are people actually interested in this thread. After all, I'm only posting this here because I thought someone might like it. If nobody's reading it, I obviously shouldn't bother with it. :smallamused:

That being said, if there are people actually following this, I welcome any and all feedback. Are you just waiting for me to reach a certain point (I did say I already have five entries written, after all)? Is there anything you think I could improve about the journal itself?

[wobner]

I'm enjoying it, though i should confess to being a journal junky, still its interesting and a nice play there with the icaea character. After your posts to yora in the other thread i am especially curious as to see how this plays out(that is this journal, correct?). How your players deal with the growing ambiguity and how you expose them to it. So if you are inclined to keep updating, i intend to keep reading.
Also i do like the layout, with the lore spoilers in the second post, helpful

I wouldn't mind seeing the combat descriptions expanded *slightly*, I got confused once or twice is all, but thats a slippery slope, and it may just be me, so feel free to ignore that suggestion.

[SilverLeaf167]

Entry #4: Just a Pit Stop

The sun has yet to rise when the Marius performs an "elegant emergency docking" on a small island with a sandy beach and a rocky, forested interior. Agernásson can't find, or at least recognize, the island on any of the maps they have onboard. The party and the exhausted crew descend from the half-beached ship to investigate the damage. They've hit some rocks in the storm, but though are several small breaches, cut ropes, fire damages and such, the biggest issue is the mast destroyed by lightning.
The party, having its priorities straight, thinks it's important to choose a new captain right away, as poor Merryll got on a sahuagin's bad side (which is any of them). They're just passengers, of course, and the actual crew has other things to do, but the sailors decide not to argue with such heavily armed eccentrics, and having some sort of leadership really might not hurt. The party elects Icaea, a relatively experienced seafarer - with a canoe, at least. Can't be too different. He starts barking inane orders, the crew tolerating it for now but getting increasingly sarcastic in tone.
Sailor: "Ahem, jury-rigging these repairs shouldn't take too long, but it'll still be a while. You should go make sure the island is safe."
Icaea: "Indeed! Men, repair the ship! We shall investigate the island!"
Sailor: "Yeah, uh, thanks. We'll get right on that."

To the crew's disappointment, the party doesn't actually leave. Instead, Icaea reveals a little fruit bat - his magical familiar - he's apparently been nestling in his clothes this entire time. He sends the bat scouting in his stead. It later returns with a report of goblins and hobgoblins moving around on the other side of the island, centered around some kind of cave. Icaea recalls that goblinoid pirates are relatively common in the Shatterstones, and unlikely to be very hospitable. The bat returns into the woods with orders to report anything new.
Repairing the ship will require some woodcutting anyway, so the party reasons they can't stay hidden for long. While they're at it, they decide to whip up a rough semicircular palisade around the ship to deter any attackers. Icaea takes charge, drawing up plans and "overseeing" the others, as he likes to put it. As they start working, it doesn't take long for the goblins to hear them working and send someone to investigate.
Advance warning from the bat allows Icaea, the stealthiest of the bunch, to meet the lone scout halfway and stage an ambush. After watching it walk right by him, he hops out of the undergrowth and sticks his spear right through the back of its head. He hides the corpse in the woods, realizing that it's just a temporary solution but hopeful that it'll at least buy them some time. What little hope they had of diplomacy is probably gone, though. Icaea stays to keep watch in the woods, but some hours later a small boat rowed by three goblins rounds the island, sees the ship and returns the way it came. They've definitely been spotted.

As the sun sets and repairs are still unfinished, the party fully expects a nightly attack, especially as goblinoids can see in the dark. In their own midst, only Agernásson and Flann - both elves - can do the same, so they decide to set up a series of small lamps to light the area between their palisade and the forest.
These preparations come in handy a few hours later, as Icaea's bat reports five pirates approaching with a canine-like hunting lizard in tow. The party remarks that the group sounds rather small, but considers it logical that the pirates wouldn't just start out with a full frontal assault for no reason. Three goblins and their little pet emerge from the woods, with two hobgoblins leading the way.
The ship's palisade isn't so much a wall as a series of sharpened poles sticking outwards, possible to walk through but enough to deter a direct charge. The only real entrance is through a rocky patch on the beach, creating a rather effective chokepoint. Icaea, Gorn and Agernásson are on the ground in front of the ship; Trettos is standing on the bow; Flann is keeping watch in the remaining mast; the crew and Lorry are hiding under the deck.
The hobgoblins run right up to the rocks around the entrance, taking cover behind some of the larger ones, but the goblins are reluctant to follow. Gorn and Trettos are glanced by haphazard arrows lobbed their way. In retaliation, Gorn takes down one of the hobs with two concussion blasts. Trettos invokes a baleful utterance to shatter the other one's sword, leaving it with only a wooden shield and an expression of baffled annoyance.
Demoralized by this unfortunate start, the other goblins actually threaten to fall back. However, their shield-swinging superior launches an almost berserk assault and reinforcements (a grand total of two goblins) arrive from the woods, prompting them to turn around. The hunting lizard is the first to reach the chokepoint, leaping at Agernásson's throat only to be struck down in midair. The hobgoblin fares only slightly better, blocking some blows and actually bashing Agernásson's face before getting skewered by Icaea. The two goblins to attempt a charge get slaughtered in no time. The few survivors decide to cut their losses and make a tactical retreat.

As hours pass, it's starting to seem that the pirates don't care about their ship that much. Quite uncharacteristically, the party has just as little interest in seeking out and looting their nest. Throughout the night, several goblins peek from the wood line, only to skitter away again. The bat confirms that there are indeed plenty of them remaining, but a second assault doesn't seem exactly imminent.
The party buries the attackers' bodies in the sand and lights a bonfire from the branches scattered around. As morning comes, the crew gets back to work and finishes the repairs. They're not pretty and won't last long, but they won't need to. If the pirates were planning another attack, they were too slow, as the party makes a clean getaway. A few days later, the bedraggled Marius floats safely into the busy harbor of Princebank.
Icaea: "I can't wait to see how much money we're gonna get for this thing!"
Goblinoids
A diverse ”barbaric” race inhabiting the harsh continent of Gatagor. They used to be much more advanced before the Imperium banished them there. The vast majority live in tribes, many of which are nomadic, though some have settled down and even founded towns of sorts. The rest tend to form pirate clans, terrorizing the Goblin's Sea and the Shatterstones in particular. Their culture is highly militaristic and personal honor (or at least their own view of it) serves as law. The different subraces have a hierarchy of sorts: goblins, hobgoblins, bugbears (from lowest to highest). The bugbears' only real asset is their size and strength, though, so the more intelligent hobgoblins are typically the ones with actual power while the weak and numerous goblins serve as fodder.
Admittedly a pretty short filler session. A lot of time was spent on me trying to improvise and them trying to plan. It would've been less fillery had they actually explored the island, but everyone had forgotten that damn familiar even existed. Oh well, not like it really messed up my plans for the future, and the players actually appreciated the ability to fight on their own terms.
The classic issue of ”Realism vs. Fun” did come up, which the party realized as well: the pirates had no real reason to waste all their manpower on random attacks against them, but this more reasonably sized skirmish wasn't necessarily all that exciting. Their complaints were softened by the fact that this was the logical, theoretically preferable consequence of their own decision to stay on the beach.


I wouldn't mind seeing the combat descriptions expanded *slightly*, I got confused once or twice is all, but thats a slippery slope, and it may just be me, so feel free to ignore that suggestion.

I might have been overly conservative with combat scenes because I feel I've kinda overdone them in the past. I'm not sure whether a more detailed or more general explanation is easier to follow. I'll try to pay slightly more attention to them, but mainly when there's actually something interesting happening.
As long as there's any interest, posting these here really isn't that much work for me, as I'm already writing this journal for myself and the players and only need to revise it slightly.

[SZbNAhL]

I've just finished binging the entries that are up so far, and I'm definitely interested in reading more. The little lore sections after each entry are a nice touch.

[Phoenixguard09]

Just started reading this and I'm enjoying it too. ;)

[SilverLeaf167]

Entry #5: Double the Agency

The Marius, or what's left of it, arrives in Princebank just as the city is starting to wake up. Its notable landmarks include a large fortress, a temple of the Second Judge and the governor's manor. Viewed from the docks, the Heartlock is clearly pointing in the city's direction. As Gorn is wearing the armor of his father, a veteran of the Ufurcan military, its distinctive red-and-silver colors might turn some heads, so he decides to keep himself wrapped in his cloak.
Flann: ”By the way, I don't think I ever actually asked what you're here for.”
Gorn: ”Uh... official business.”
Flann: ”Is... is that so... Well, either way, I've had fun, but I think I need to go my own way now. Perhaps we'll meet again.”
Flann kisses Gorn on the cheek and waves goodbye while walking away. Lorry, who spent the trip's most exciting moments hiding in his cabin, is the next to get off the ship.
Lorry: ”That wasn't the best start to my adventure, but I survived thanks to you. I'm eternally grateful. Now, I might not be able to do too much, but here, take this letter. If you ever find yourself back in Salmo, give it to my father, Lord Mantarch. We don't always get along, but I'm sure he'll reward you somehow.”
He, too, goes on his way.

First things first, leaving the crew to deal with the ship, the party decides to get rid of some of their booty. They haven't bothered hauling around random swords and armor, but they do have a couple magical shortswords they're interested in selling. Though the weapons merchant they find derides the quality of goblin crafts, Trettos manages to get a pretty good price for them. Icaea goes window shopping and ends up spending his share on an enchanted Hat of Disguise. It's a rather flamboyant feathered cap, but at least it can hide itself as well.
They remember what they actually came here to do. As they follow the Heartlock through the winding streets, they end up in front of the governor's manor. Icaea recalls hearing talk that the governor, Avery Cutladd, is the Emperor of Ceraris' brother-in-law and quite infamous for his corruption, regularly making deals with criminals and allowing them to work in the city. The concept of him working with Ufurcan rebels sounds very much possible, especially as they walk around the manor to confirm that the Heartlock keeps pointing towards it.
Trettos peeks over the ten-foot stone wall to confirm that the manor and its garden have multiple guards. They soon abandon the idea of fighting their way in, especially as they have no idea what exactly is going on, but are still considering the possiblity of sneaking in later. But first, Icaea is interested in putting his new toy to use. Disguising himself as a local guard, decked in gold-and-purple, he walks right up to the two men guarding the front gate.

Icaea: ”Quite the weather we're having, eh?”
Guard: ”Yeah, there was that sudden storm a few days ago, too. Went as quickly as it came.”
There's an awkward silence.
Guard: ”What exactly are you here for? You seem new.”
Icaea: ”Oh, I'm just on patrol.”
Guard: ”Well, better carry on then.”
Another silence.
Icaea: ”Actually, I'm on my lunch break.”
Guard: ”Uh-huh.”
Icaea makes a break for it, running behind the corner. The guards sigh.
Guard: ”Probably just another recruit slacking off.”

He's not so suave. However, the party reasons that the governor, especially one like Cutladd, probably isn't exactly a hermit and has plenty of meetings throughout the day. Thus, they decide to try a more direct approach. Icaea still disguises himself as a generic mercenary type, figuring that the person who mind-controlled him might recognize his face.
Guard: ”State your business.”
Trettos: ”We are traveling mercenaries. We would like to discuss our potential employment with Lord Cutladd.”
Not seeing anything particularly suspicious, compared to their boss's usual visitors, the guards open the gate for them. They walk up to the manor and step inside. Icaea makes a mental note of the uniformed orcs standing beside the door and gives them a brief greeting in heavily accented Orcish, which he learned on an earlier trip onboard an orcish ship. They return it with a slight smile, surprised to hear their language like that but remaining professional.
In the entrance hall, they meet two servants, one of which goes to fetch Cutladd while the other leads them up the stairs to a room where they are seated at the end of a long table. As they sit, the Heartlock keeps rotating rather restlessly. Cutladd joins them a few minutes later, a fat, balding and clearly hungover man shuffling onto his seat at the other end. He is flanked by four more orcs, with a fifth watching the door behind the party.
Cutladd, yawning: ”So, what is your business?”
Trettos: ”We are traveling mercenaries on our way to Salmo. Hearing you might have use for us, we decided to drop by and see if you had any work to offer.”
Cutladd: ”Well, I might indeed have something – or rather, a contact of mine might.”
The party exchanges meaningful glances.
Cutladd: ”Where exactly do you hail from, mercenaries?”
Agernásson: ”We come from Redwater. We hear there are great opportunities on the mainland.”
Cutladd: ”Indeed, indeed... Well, I will speak with my contact. As I said, he may be interested in your services.”
Trettos: ”Are you sure it wouldn't be possible for us to meet him personally?”
Cutladd: ”Oh, you must understand, he is a rather secretive sort of person...”
Trettos: ”We'd like to get on our way quickly, and cutting out the middleman would surely help with that.”
Cutladd: ”That is true. Well, I'll see what I can do. I tell you what, wait at the Golden Blanket tonight – it's a little inn south of the temple. If he agrees, he'll arrange a meeting there.”
With their business finished, certainly feeling glad they didn't simply storm the place, the party leaves in a good mood, though feeling somewhat suspicious of this late-night rendezvous.

It was almost too easy, so the party is almost certain Cutladd saw through their lies and they're going to get ambushed or something. They decide to check out the place in advance. Despite its name, it's actually a pretty simple if not quite run-down little inn with just a couple of ”regulars” getting drunk in the early afternoon and a dwarven innkeeper cleaning the counter. After eating a nice lunch – a pleasant change after two weeks at sea – the party ends up getting goaded into trying dwarven mushroom liquor, which ”these damn humans can't appreciate”.
Trettos downs a whole glass in one gulp. He barely has time to taste it before falling to the floor.
Innkeeper: ”Aye, probably not a good idea to drink it so quick.”
Staring him right in the eyes, Gorn does the exact same thing, but manages to stay defiantly conscious with his entire body shaking. The dwarf gives him a tired but respectful look.

The party decides to stick around and plan what they're going to do. It was clear that the other Heartlock – and presumably the culprit – was somewhere in that manor, so this meeting seems almost too convenient. They find a nice shadowy table at the back of the room and cover their faces with their cloaks, watching the door. Icaea tries to start a betting pool, saying the mysterious contact is going to end up being Flann or something. No one takes him up on his offer.
Remarkably few people visit the bar, but as evening comes (and Trettos eventually wakes up, feeling remarkably not horrible – perhaps an upside of dwarven liquor) a young blonde woman steps inside. Someone recognizes her as one of the servants who greeted them at the manor. It doesn't take long for the woman to spot the four shadowy characters sitting in the back.
Servant: ”Lord Cutladd's friend will meet you now.”
The party is slightly reluctant to leave the safe-seeming inn, but decides not to argue when the servant asks that they follow her outside. However, as they make their way through the darkened streets, Agernásson's elven eyes spot someone shadowing them and disappearing just as he turns to look. He discreetly informs the others, but can't catch another glimpse of the figure.
The servant takes them to the rear gate of the manor, takes a cautious look around and leads them into the garden. As they open a cellar hatch and descend a dark staircase in torchlight, the party starts feeling increasingly paranoid. When they finally come to a pitch-black room, the servant abruptly disappears in a swirl of magic.
Though the party is quick to panic and prepare for battle, it takes only a few seconds for an illusionary wall to fade away and reveal a light-shedding torch as well as an armored man standing on a railed platform at the end of the otherwise empty room. The 50-something-looking man has no hair other than a short white beard, but the party is immediately suspicious of the fact that he's wearing a suit of red-and-silver armor almost identical to that of the vice-commander. The Heartlock is clearly pointing straight at him. He has a formal but content smile on his wrinkled face.

Man: ”Nice of you to come.”
Icaea: ”And who are you, exactly?”
The man thumps his chest with an armored gauntlet, speaking in a proud tone: ”Henrich Tynsagma, Commander of the Imperial Guard!
...former, that is.”
Agernásson: ”Former commander, former emperor or former guard?”
Tynsagma: ”All three.”
Agernásson: ”Which emperor?”
Tynsagma: ”Empress Mariana III of Ufurca.”
Agernásson: ”Fair enough.”

Trettos: ”So, what kind of work do you have in mind for us?”
Tynsagma: ”Heh, you can drop the act. I know who you are.”
Trettos: ”Seriously, all that planning and cover story for nothing?”
Gorn: ”But what exactly are you here for?”
Tynsagma: ”I am the leader of the Loyalists fighting to protect Her Highness, the young Empress Parola I, from Lord Admiral Redsash who would usurp her.”
Gorn: ”Okay, that's a lot of new info to swallow.”
Agernásson: ”So does this vizier, I mean Lord Admiral, have a goatee? He needs a goatee. Perhaps several.”
Icaea: ”How exactly does burning down shipyards and terrorizing the city help protect the Empress?”
Tynsagma: ”Tell me, what exactly do you even know about the situation?”
After slight hesitation, the party decides they might as well share what little they know.
Trettos: ”We were hired to guard the shipyard, but after it got burned down, we were sent to track you down with this Heartlock as our clue.”
Icaea angrily throws the Heartlock at Tynsagma's feet: ”Yeah, mind explaining this?”
He picks up the medallion and retrieves its pair from inside his cloak. Icaea grinds his teeth. ”Ah, yes. Do you know their main purpose?”
Trettos: ”Sure, they track each other and can only be opened when brought together.”
Tynsagma: ”Indeed. However, they can also be used to amplify certain long-distance spells.” He clicks the medallions together and speaks the name 'Mariana'. They both open to reveal small tufts of dark hair – Icaea's – tied with thin red string.
Trettos: ”But why possess Icaea here, specifically?”
Tynsagma gives an awkward shrug. ”That was a choice made by the group operating in Salmo, but the mage says she just took the opportunity after one of Redsash's hirelings strayed away from the others. It wasn't my decision. And it was probably a bad one, mind you, as it ended up leading you here.”

Trettos: ”What exactly does the governor know about this? Is he aware of your goals?”
Tynsagma: ”He knows I am here, obviously, and that we're a group fighting against the ruler of Salmo. He supports us in hopes of earning the Emperor's favor and securing his own interests in the Emperor's Bay. He doesn't know the details, though, nor where we are currently meeting.”
Agernásson: ”Tell us about this Lord Admiral, then. Why do you claim he's plotting against the Empress?”
Tynsagma: ”Have you not met him?”
Gorn: ”No, we've only dealt with middlemen. We haven't even heard of his involvement.”
Tynsagma: ”Six years ago, when I was still Commander, he framed me for treason against the crown. I suppose I got too close to discovering his plots. I was forced to flee here, but all this time I've been working with others who knows of his nature and want to fight for the Empress, keeping track of him. Mariana was murdered two years later – I have my own suspicions of the culprit - and now Parola is next.”
Gorn: ”'Fighting for the Empress' doesn't sound too bad. Did you know my father, a man named Le'Lyana?”
Tynsagma: ”Ah... Yes, he served with me, back when I was just a rank-and-file guardsman myself. It was over twenty years ago. He was quite the... enthusiastic young soldier. Until he got his leg chopped off at the knee.”
Gorn: ”Was he a good friend of yours?”
Tynsagma: ”He was, uh... a good soldier.”
Gorn, nodding: ”I understand completely.”
Tynsagma: ”As for the shipyard, Redsash isn't building those ships for the Empress. He's building up his own forces! His plans are nearing completion. We have to do what we can to slow him down.”
Icaea: ”And where exactly is your evidence for this?”
Tynsagma: ”It's... in the documents from the shipyard.”
Trettos: ”Not the ones we found, certainly.”
Tynsagma: ”Well, it just so happens that the halfling carrying ours has disappeared mysteriously.”
Trettos: ”Convenient.”
Tynsagma: ”No, I can assure you, it's not.”

Gorn: ”So what exactly do you suggest? We were sent here to take care of whoever was behind the attack.”
Tynsagma: ”I am sorry that you simple mercenaries had to get swept into this –”
Everyone: ”Who you calling simple?”
Tynsagma: ”– but the least I can ask is that you return to Salmo and pretend that you did as you were told. I'm not sure how much Redsash himself knows of the details, so be careful what you say. If you're willing to go beyond that, though... I'd like you to use the Heartlock to report anything big you find out. You may not believe me now, but I'm sure that if you just follow Redsash for a bit longer you'll see that I was right.”
He places a small piece of paper inside each Heartlock and throws the other to the party. ”Just rub the medallion when you want to speak.”
The rest of the party seems to be alright with this arrangement. After all, even if Tynsagma happens to be lying, they're just doing a job anyway. The issue is a bit more personal for Icaea: ”I was mind-controlled and forced to fight my comrades, resulting in injuries on both sides – including this huge scar on my face – as well as plenty of mental anguish! You may not have made the decision, but you're still responsible for it. I demand some kind of reparation. That sword of yours might do.”
Tynsagma considers for a moment, looking at the ornate longsword in his hand before shaking his head. Finally, he takes off his left gauntlet and tosses a golden ring to Icaea. ”The Loyalists may be somewhat short on cash, but I understand your point of view and am deeply sorry. Perhaps this enchanted item can help at least a bit. It emanates a magical shield to protect you in battle. It's not much, but I'm sure such... active young men as you will find much use for it. You will receive more fitting rewards once all this is over with.”
Icaea still holds a grudge, but the ring is definitely pretty nice.
The servant who led them in appears from behind a door and quietly takes them up the stairs, across the yard and out of the gate.

The party definitely doesn't really know what to think. Though they decided not to fight Tynsagma and his ”Loyalists”, despite considering it at several points during their discussion, they're not exactly convinced by his tall tales. Of course, this Lord Admiral Redsash they apparently haven't even met doesn't seem completely trustworthy either. They suspect they're still being tailed by whoever Agernásson saw earlier, but don't see the stalker anywhere and can't really do anything about it at the moment.
They decide to head back to Salmo as soon as possible. However, when they return to their ship, somehow expecting it to be all ready to go in just one day, they find their grumpy crew sitting on the deck and playing cards in the light of a lantern. They say it'll take several more weeks to completely repair the Marius, especially as they also need to carefully undo all the hurried work they did on the island. After berating their indolence, the party decides to just accept this and stay at the Golden Blanket instead. The innkeeper is glad to have customers staying over for once.
They spend an uneventful couple of weeks hanging around the small city. It may be the largest colony on the Shatterstones, but it really can't compare to the continent. Just to kill time, they even tour some of the plantations outside the city, and generally make themselves familiar with the area, each other and the innkeeper. The repairs seem to be progressing quite well, though, the crew having found some local professionals to help.
However, after about two weeks, having bought some fresh eggs for breakfast, the party visits the harbor to check out how the ship is doing. To their great shock, they see that it has disappeared! On a second look, it's currently well on its way sailing out of the harbor. Two of the six sailors can be seen standing at the back of the ship and waving rude hand gestures at the party. They'd clearly gotten tired of them acting as if they owned the damn thing and even planning to sell it at one point, deciding to take their leave as soon as the ship was even mostly finished. The party is infuriated by this grand treason, but all they can do in protest is have Gorn use his telekinetic force to throw a single egg at the distant ship.
They march into the nearest tavern and ask to find the ”man with the fastest boat on the island”. Everyone gives pointed looks to a confused gnome sitting in the corner. However, as the little man, terrified (and confused) by the party's creative interweaving of eggs into their threats, is glad to show them, his experimental vessel is nothing but a gnome-sized little sailboat, incapable of taking them all on board, let alone bringing them anywhere farther than the nearest island. The party sees reason in his argument and decides to give up.
It seems there aren't too many people sailing to Salmo, mostly because Ufurca puts such big tolls on merchants with Cerarian wares. However, Trettos manages to find a certain Captain Churner, owner of the mighty Sea Cat, who's headed to Repesa and offers to take a quick detour in exchange for a ”nominal” fee of 300 sp each. With some help from an eldritch charm, Trettos manages to convince him that the detour will take barely any time and they can pay for it by working on the ship, especially as Icaea is actually a ”former captain, recently out of a job, experienced in the workings of a ship.”

A little over two weeks later, the Sea Cat finally drops them off and Churner waves them a friendly goodbye. Agernásson immediately starts looking for the Marius, but fails to find it and decides to wait for it to arrive so he can wreak his vengeance.
DM: "Hold on, I'm rolling you a Wisdom check."
Agernásson: "Huh?"
DM: "Okay, a 19. Your common sense reminds you that there are more than two ports in the world."
Agernásson: "They can't avoid this place forever!"
Icaea: "Uh, I'm pretty sure they can."
The party makes its way up to the guard barracks, where they're told to go straight to the castle. The guards allow them to march right through the main hall and into the throne room. A familiar face, the vice-commander, enters shortly, but he's dressed in even more flamboyantly decorated and expensive armor than before. The guard at the door announces his arrival: ”Lord Admiral Demeter Redsash!” With a little smirk on his face, Redsash sits on the throne and waves for the guards to leave.
Gorn: ”Wait, so you're the Lord Admiral after all?”
Redsash: ”Yes, I am. Sorry to deceive you, but I had to keep a low profile. There's no such person as the 'vice-commander', you know. But never mind that: what took you so long? Did you do as I asked?”
Trettos: ”Well, we ran into some trouble on the way, but we tracked down the medallion's owner in Princebank and took care of him.”
Icaea: ”We took care of those pesky Loyalists! How dare they oppose our righteous struggle against the Empress' tyranny, am I right, eh, eh?”
Trettos: ”They were part of some radical rebel group fighting against Ufurca. Apparently not affiliated with any foreign nation, though.”
Redsash: ”Awfully vague, but... you did well, I suppose. Too bad there was another attack in the meanwhile. Probably the same group, as another shipyard was burned and had its floodgates opened, ruining another batch of ships. This means I still have more work for you, of course, so you probably won't mind. I'm quite generous towards those who serve me, after all.”

As if on cue, a bearded old man enters the room, followed by a pale youngster carrying a tall pile of papers. Redsash introduces the man as Cladius, his court wizard, and takes the opportunity to drink from his flask while the wizard starts talking.
Cladius: ”I've been looking into certain concerning rumors for a while now. It seems these rebels are looking for an item of power hidden in the Shatterstones, surely hoping to use it against the people of Salmo and Ufurca. This, obviously, cannot come to pass.”
Icaea: ”Seriously, we're going to the Shatterstones again?”
Agernásson: ”What exactly is this item of power?”
Cladius: ”Some sort of ancient artifact.”
Trettos: ”What does it do?”
Cladius: ”We have no idea.”
Gorn: ”Gee, how useful.”
Cladius: ”The only thing we know for sure is that, like all such artifacts, its latent power poses a great risk and can't be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. That's why I've been hard at work, using all the magic at my disposal to try and pinpoint its location.” He takes the map lying on top of the pile of paper, covered in random notes, glyphs and other scribbles. A spot in the sea has been clearly marked. ”There's no island shown on the map, but I'm sure the artifact is hidden there – at the bottom of the sea, if nothing else, but it's there. That's what you're going to find out.”
Redsash: ”As you must understand, this is a matter of great importance. That's why I can't really keep it completely under wraps as I have until now. It's still not public, of course, but as you're headed to an uncharted location, I can't make you rely on private transportation. As such, I'm allowing you to sail there on a vessel from the Salmese fleet.”
Icaea, probably dreaming of captainhood again: ”About time!”
Redsash: ”You'll be leaving in a few days. Prepare well. This matter has to be handled as quickly as possible. I am sure you realize what an important task I'm entrusting you with.”

After leaving the castle and reaching a safe location, the party decides to give Tynsagma a call: ”So, what do you know about this artifact?”
Tynsagma: ”Well, we are indeed looking for it, I'll give you that. You can't let Redsash have it, obviously.”
Icaea: ”So, what is this artifact?”
Tynsagma: ”No idea.”
Everyone: *sigh*
Trettos: ”How do these vague 'rumors' even spread, anyway?”
Tynsagma: ”That's just how major artifacts like this work. They can't stay hidden forever. Even if no one remembers them, sooner or later someone will stumble upon a clue or even just get a sudden hunch. That doesn't make them any less critical to secure when you can, of course. I expect you to do the right thing, if you do find anything.”
In the back a different, somewhat worrisome discussion is clearly audible for Tynsagma to hear:
Gorn: ”How much did Redsash pay us again?”
Agernásson: ”500 gp each.”
Icaea: ”Five grand silver!? I know who I'm backing!”

Nevertheless, it doesn't take long for the party to start thinking it might be better to trust neither side with such an allegedly powerful item. Either or both could be lying, and even if they weren't, they certainly seem rather shady and ruthless...
Princebank
The largest and most important colony in the Shatterstones, often seen as a ”crown jewel” of Ceraris, but still rather small compared to similar cities on the mainland. In addition to serving as a center of trade and shipping, it also has large plantations and gold mines. Though it's probably the safest place on the archipelago, it still has notable issues with crime. This is at least partially thanks to the governor, Avery Cutladd, a textbook of nepotism and corruption at work.

Second Judge
God of Law and Justice. Lawful Good. Obviously a rather popular god, and probably the one with the most paladin orders devoted to it. Priests and devotees are to study and possibly teach law, but normal priests don't actually practice it. It's possible to demand one's trial to be held at a temple or in the presence of a cleric, but for the most part they don't participate, trusting the Second Judge's earthly representative - the justice system - to work under its blessing. Often seen as a strict but just and righteous patron.

Orcs
As an apparent offshoot of goblinoids, there are many similarities in appearance, language and culture. However, orcs inhabit Vapa Inkoti instead of Gatagor. They form the majority of the population in human-ruled Graywind and Redwater. Much like goblinoids, they are famous for their tribal lifestyle and warlike culture, but also for their crafts, and they're much more ”civilized” and used to city life. Others recognize this: they suffer from way less prejudice than goblinoids, though it's clearly still there, and are ubiquitous as mercenaries all around the Emperor's Bay.
Lots of dialogue and exposition in this long session, so make sure to ask if something seems unclear.

The plot thickens, and the players are definitely scheming what to do with this mysterious artifact. A little premature perhaps, as they don't have it yet or even know what it is, but it's interesting to note that (from what little they're willing to reveal) their plans can and probably will conflict with each other.

As a side note, we've tweaked the currency system somewhat: magic item prices (and wealth-by-level) have been replaced with silver pieces, i.e. making a Bag of Holding cost 2500 sp instead of 2500 gp. This makes them less ridiculously expensive in relation to everything and reduces the sheer amount of money you have to carry without actually making the PCs more powerful. So, the party's reward at the end would basically be 5000 gp each, in a normal game.

I've just finished binging the entries that are up so far, and I'm definitely interested in reading more. The little lore sections after each entry are a nice touch.

Well, I'm glad people like them, as I was actually wondering if they made the journal look a little too formal or something. It's just that personally I'm always interested in other journals' settings, and it's good to have some kind of reference, especially if there's a lot of traveling. Wanting to show off my work probably played a part, though.

This fifth entry is the last one I have pre-written for now. The next session will hopefully be in early July – pretty much everyone is spending Midsummer in the countryside, as any proper Finn should – and the pace should pick up from there. We may be getting a fifth player, too!

[SilverLeaf167]

Entry #6: Devices & Devils

They have a little time free to spend in Salmo, so the group decides to run what little errands they have. It's not too hard to find the manor of House Mantarch, Lorry's family of rich and noble merchants. The guard on the door eyes them and the passing crowd with overenthusiastic sternness, but they manage to get inside by showing the letter they're delivering. The guard unceremoniously escorts them to Lord Mantarch's office, where the crotchety old man doesn't even stop his work to acknowledge the party's arrival. He skims the letter and lets out a deep sigh:

Mantarch: ”So, it seems you saved Lorry's life?”

Trettos: ”Yes, he made it safely to Princebank. He intends to stay there.”

Mantarch: ”I sure hope so.”

There is a brief awkward silence.

Gorn: ”Lorry said we could receive some sort of reward from you.”

Mantarch: ”Well, it's not for him to decide, but I'm afraid he's not wrong. How much do you want?”

The group huddles up to negotiate while Mantarch watches with growing annoyance.

Icaea: ”We want 600.”

Mantarch: ”Sure, not too unreasonable. Just wait at the front door and you'll have your money in just a minute.”

They wait outside for Mantarch and his servant to bring a bag of coins, hand it to them and slam the door again.

Icaea: ”Hey, wait... these are silver pieces! I meant 600 gold! Goddamn cheapskate!”

On second thought, Lorry did mention not getting along with his father, though this was definitely worse than expected. The party stops to consider the flammability of the manor, but ultimately decides to just suck up this grand treason... for now. They definitely carry a grudge.


Icaea wants to visit the Temple of Wavestrider, and Agernásson decides to join him, but Trettos and Gorn go for a walk around the city instead. Icaea walks in to find the main chapel deserted apart from a novice priest – his replacement – stuck with the hopeless task of mopping the floor dry when it keeps getting wet from the splashing waterfalls and humid air. Icaea asks for Abbot Polypos and is directed into the back. He runs into the Abbot in the hall.

Abbot: ”Oh. Haven't seen you much in the last couple months.”

Icaea: ”Hey, I made no long-term commitments. I've had important things to do.”

Abbot: ”So why are you here then?”

Icaea: ”I just came to check in, ask whether there's anything going on. I'd also like to ask about the clerics stationed on the navy's ships – there's supposed to be one of your priests on every vessel, right?”

Abbot: ”W-well, yes. We've been very busy recently, as there are so many new ships being made, and we're a little undermanned.”

Icaea: ”I was expecting something more like a list.”

DM: ”There's no way I'm making, let alone giving you, a list of every ship and priest in the whole navy's primary base. I'm sure you understand.”

Icaea: ”Undermanned? Why not make me an official priest, then?”

Abbot: ”With all due respect – which really isn't much – you couldn't even finish the first stages of your training. There is no way you're suited for a priest.”

Offended, Icaea leaves the temple with Agernásson in tow. Meanwhile, on their otherwise peaceful walk, Gorn and Trettos note that there are an awful lot of guards and soldiers on the streets, and the cove is also patrolled by an unusual number of boats. They assume it's all in response to the shipyard attacks. While they're still out and about, Agernásson decides to spend most of his reward money on a Rod of Ropes he saw in a shop earlier, a most useful item that can create rope and launch grappling hooks from both ends.


Everyone still agrees that they shouldn't hand over the artifact when they find it. However, there's still some disagreement about the details. They take great care to do their plotting far away from the Heartlock, just in case Tynsagma is eavesdropping on them. Agernásson and Trettos think they should make some sort of fake to fool Redsash, and maybe Tynsagma as well, to win some time for their escape – collecting rewards from both sides is just a plus. Gorn and Icaea think they should make a run for it as soon as they can, as they really have no way to create a convincing fake on such short notice, and there are too many ways the plan could go terribly wrong.

After a long and heated debate, Gorn and Icaea's more cautious (and less callous) plan ends up winning. They don't really know what they'll do with the artifact or where they'll go – Vapa Inkoti is the main option, but hiding in the Underdark sounds much more reasonable than it should – but they'll burn that bridge when they get to it.


A few days later, the party meets Court Wizard Cladius at the docks. He is accompanied by his pale young apprentice Penn, who he proclaims will be accompanying the group on their quest. The party isn't exactly happy with the idea, especially given their plans of betrayal.

Agernásson: ”It'll be very dangerous. We don't need a boy running around, risking our lives as well as his own.”

Cladius: ”I know that, and so does he. I'll be frank: he's not just there for your help. This is a very important assignment, and Lord-Admiral Redsash wants to have his own man present. Still, I'm sure he can be of use.”

Penn: ”Besides, I'm already 19, not just a 'boy'!”

Party: *groans*

The party, followed by Penn, boards the small cog Oakhound. Normally the ship would carry soldiers as well, but Redsash is still trying to keep things under wraps somewhat, so there's just a relatively small crew led by Captain Alcedine, who's rather rude towards the party.

Alcedine: ”I've been told little to nothing about this voyage. All I know is that we have to take you to some uncharted spot in the middle of the sea, and probably back, too. Don't expect me or the crew to go beyond our duties for your sake.”

Agernásson and Penn help Brother Aaron, the ship's own priest and navigator, read Cladius' confusing maps and reach their destination in just six days.


As some of them had already suspected, the uncharted spot in the sea is an awfully familiar-looking little island. The Oakhound drops its anchor and the party (with Penn) is rowed to shore. They soon find the remnants of their makeshift palisade and confirm that this is indeed the island they ”visited” earlier.

They expect to run into goblins again, but as Icaea's bat familiar leads them to the cave it found last time, there's a conspicuous lack of any humanoids in sight. It's located at the opposite side of the island – at the entrance they find an old and cold firepit, and in the bushes there's a lazily hidden two-hulled canoe. The bat gives them the all-clear so they enter the cavern after fetching some extra lanterns from the ship.

It looks clearly lived-in, though not at the moment: there are empty crates, random planks, beds made of leaves and even some wooden pillars supporting the rocky tunnels, but no bodies or anything, and everything useful has clearly been taken along. At the end of the cavern lies a larger room with a hole in the ceiling, letting in sunlight, but more interesting is the hole in the stone floor: perfectly round, about 10 ft. across and – based on the lantern they lower with the Rod of Ropes – at least 30 ft. deep. The bottom is covered in old decomposed corpses and other refuse, but the hole itself is more than suspicious.

As the others are all a bunch of wussies, Icaea uses the rope to climb down and investigate. Shoving the filth out of the way, he finds that the bottom is covered in carvings of patterns and runes that he recognizes as ”vaguely Goblin-ish” but can't really decipher.

Penn, whose presence they still don't really appreciate, wants to try something. He lowers himself into the hole and digs his pockets for a small, silvery marble which he places in the middle of the floor. It sinks into the stone and opens up a 6 ft. hole, which most of the filth falls into, while Penn and Icaea stand on the edges. The marble levitates in the middle of the hole.

Agernásson: ”Where'd you get that?”

Penn: ”From Master Cladius, of course. I told you I was going to be useful.”

Under them is a dark space their little lantern has trouble lighting properly, but the floor isn't that far below. Once again, Icaea's bat fails to find any immediate danger, so the whole party climbs down one by one. This definitely seems to be what they're looking for.


As soon as the first of them touches the floor, a pulse of blue light spreads along the walls and floor, lighting up the whole hallway: while the cavern above was mostly natural, this area is lined with smooth, untarnished masonry. A dim blue light emanates from the cracks. Everyone's glad to see where they're going, but also worried that the pulse was some sort of alarm. Trettos uses his spiderwalk to climb to the ceiling and retrieve the marble, closing the hole they came through.

Further down the hallway they find a room with a stone walkway over a dark and clouded pool of water. They can't see any movement in the water, but that just makes them even more suspicious of it. The wall on the other side of the pool is covered in markings similar to those at the bottom of the hole; however, when Penn tries to insert the marble, an invisible barrier stops him from approaching within a foot's distance of the wall. There are, however, two particularly bright lines of light leading into narrow corridors on each side of the room.


The eastern corridor is a dead end, with more runes on the wall at the end, but the line clearly goes through here. Penn inserts the marble and a hole opens, but the opposite side is covered in a layer of ice. Trettos blasts it away, revealing a whole room covered in ice, with a distinct spot of bright light on the opposite wall. That seems to be where the line on the wall ends.

Icaea sends his bat to investigate. However, as soon as it enters the room, something vaguely spear-like shoots from the ceiling before retracting again, barely missing the frightened animal which flies back to its master. They wonder whether it's a mechanical trap or some kind of beast; Agernásson seems oddly attached to the idea of it being a ”harpoon spider”, having perhaps encountered such a thing in the past. Penn carelessly sticks his head in and somehow manages to slip on the floor, receiving a ”spear” through the shoulder before the others pull him to safety.

Trettos shoots at the ice covering the light on the wall, revealing some sort of glowing crystal. They come up with a plan: Gorn runs into the room, dimension hops to dodge the spear and yanks the crystal out of the wall. However, when he does so, the whole area goes completely dark. Deciding they should deal with this room first, he sticks the crystal back in for now and the blue lights come back on.

They finally take a moment to see what their enemy even is in the first place. It's a monstrous bluish-white lizard, sticking to the icy ceiling with its claws and lashing at them with its deadly tongue. Icaea dashes in, leaps up and pulls it down with his harpoon-like spear. He's stuck fighting the lizard on the icy floor, but Gorn eventually manages to cut it into pieces. The lizard's corpse immediately evaporates and the ice starts to disappear, too, so they come to the conclusion that it was probably just a summoned monster.


The group returns to the room with the pool, but half of the markings on the wall are still lit and the force field is still there, so they enter the western corridor and find a similar dead end. Penn, who clearly did not learn from his last experience, is again the one to open the hole. Beyond is a small room with a kyton– a chain devil, an infernal humanoid covered in jagged chains from head to toe – controlling two monstrous hellhounds through chains on its torso. The room itself is full of hanging chains as well, and on the wall is a familiar crystal. The group only has a second to look inside before the chained hellhounds breathe a blast of fire at Penn, who stumbles backwards with mild burns and casts an obscuring fog cloud into the room.

Penn: ”...I panicked, alright?”

After quickly closing the hole, the group tries to make another plan. They realize these devils were probably summoned as well, so Gorn's psionic powers should be able to dispel them. They open the hole, Gorn manifests dispel psionics and all three monsters completely shrug it off, to his great confusion and frustration. They sheepishly close the hole.

The group realizes they don't actually need to fight the devils, as long as they can just remove the crystal and depower the barrier in the main room. Gorn uses his telekinetic force to yank the crystal out of its socket, leaving it on the floor of the room before closing the hole once more. The lights go off and the group returns to the pool, feeling triumphant... only to have the lights come on again. Many facepalms are had as they realize that the chain devil could simply put the crystal back into its socket.

The plan was alright, but they need to actually get the crystal out of the room, but Gorn's telekinesis isn't quick enough to do that in just a few seconds. Time for the next attempt: after shielding himself with a force screen, he dimension hops behind the chain devil, takes out the crystal plans to hop back the way he came. However, he has to survive for a moment before using his powers again. Those few seconds are enough for the devil to command the hanging chains, making them cut at Gorn and trip him by tangling around his legs.

Trettos tries to distract the devil with an eldritch blast, but the beam simply vanishes harmlessly, having failed to penetrate its spell resistance. More importantly, someone – nobody can agree on the perpetrator – takes advantage of this chaos to shove Penn into the room as an added ”distraction”. Penn, lying face-down on the floor, barely has time to notice before the hellhounds are upon him, savaging him as he screams in agony. Nobody can help him in time. By the time that Gorn hops out of the room with the crystal in hand, Penn has already stopped moving and is quite indisputably dead. The group quickly closes the hole and retreats to discuss what the hell just happened.

There's no certainty of who actually pushed him inside – though Icaea is the main suspect, Gorn is the only one fully beyond suspicion. Besides, even though Penn's death was extremely sudden and cruel, everyone is forced to acknowledge that they probably would've had to kill him sooner or later anyway if they wanted to make their escape. If nothing else, they're starting understand the sacrifices they'll have to make for the sake of allegedly ”protecting” this vaguely-defined artifact.

”Man, if we're even Good now, we're definitely not staying that way for long.”


After an only-slightly-sarcastic quiet moment for the young man they just murdered, the group decides to forge on, into the room they hope to be the last. The large, rune-covered wall now has all its lights turned off and they are able to insert the marble.

Beyond is a large, octagonal room with a domed ceiling, covered in glowing markings. A raised pedestal stands in the middle, with some small object suspended in the air above it. However, before the party has time so see what the object is, a large elemental of blue fire manifests around it. Seven robed creatures, chained to the walls of the dome, are freed from their shackles and land on their feet. All seven resemble monstrous hobgoblins. Their iron muzzles fall off, revealing fearsome fangs, and they turn their flaming eyes towards the group.

The group decides to take the initiative, Agernásson heading left while Icaea and Gorn go right. Trettos climbs the sloping wall and fires off a few blasts, but an orb of fire thrown by the elemental drops him back to the floor, though he sticks the landing. Agernásson has no trouble keeping several hobgoblins at bay with his chain as they try to slash at him with their long claws. After the battle has gone on for a moment, some of the larger markings on the floor glow intensely and spew out tall walls of roaring blue fire, dividing the room into several sectors and restricting movement for both the party and the undead. The elemental is happy just floating above the pedestal and throwing more fireballs.


After sticking his spear through a hobgoblin's ribcage, Icaea confirms his first impression that they're some sort of undead, though far too mobile for mere zombies. The ring he got from the rebel leader Tynsagma finally gets some use, projecting a shield of force that he uses to keep one of the undead at bay, but another one finds an opening and digs its fangs into his shoulder, latching on tightly. About to get overwhelmed, Icaea thinks of the Abbot's words from a week ago: ”no way he's suited for a priest.”

As he channels his own anger and the Wavestrider's might, the holy symbol tattooed on the back of his right hand starts to glow. He uses it to punch the nearest hobgoblin in the face. The three creatures harassing him and Gorn are overwhelmed with divine awe, trying to flee and running straight through several walls of flame, falling to the ground as smoldering husks. Pleasantly surprised, Icaea heads towards the elemental and Gorn follows.


As they close in, the elemental stops wasting time with fireballs and uses it fiery fists instead. There's a lot of force behind those seemingly immaterial blows, giving Icaea and Gorn quite the pummeling as well as severe burns. Despite Icaea being already wounded, Gorn seems to be taking the worst of it. Icaea thinks he can use these divine powers of his to heal him, but before he has a chance to try, flames spring up between them, leaving Gorn to fend for himself.

Though there are some close calls, Trettos manages to disrupt the elemental with his entangling blast and help ensure that nobody (else) has to die today. With the group's concentrated efforts, the elemental finally dissolves into the air and the undead are finished off.


They finally get a closer look at the object on the pedestal. It appears to be a bronze disk, covered in green patina, about the width of a dinner plate and a couple inches thick. Despite spending some time inside a fire elemental, it isn't even warm to the touch, so they pick it up, removing power from all the glowing markings on the walls. The disk seems to consist of twenty concentric rings, all locked together and marked with symbols that look suspiciously like Infernal writing.

Half-joking, Trettos tries swinging the disk around and pointing it at the corpses lying around, but nothing seems to happen. However, the magic emanating from the object is strong enough to give him a bad headache when he looks at it too long, so it's definitely the artifact they were looking for. It's not like there are any more rooms to investigate, anyway.

Before leaving the dungeon, proud and triumphant, the group decides to take one last look at the room where Penn was killed. The chain devil and the hellhounds are gone, but Penn and his belongings have been torn and mangled almost beyond recognition. The only intact object they find on him is a magical scroll they can't decipher but that they sheepishly take with them before sealing the room again.

As they finally clamber out of the hole they used to enter the dungeon, they're not even surprised to see someone waiting for them. Two men are leaning on the cavern wall, looking relaxed but rather bored if anything. One is a large, muscular human with a massive sledgehammer strapped to his back. The other has silver-colored skin, which Trettos and Gorn recognize as the sign of a Falazi, and a garish orange jacket that everyone can agree looks absolutely horrible. The men don't even bother moving when they see the group. The larger man just grins like an idiot while the fashion disaster does the talking.

Falazi: ”About time. Did you find what you were looking for?”

Agernásson: ”Uh... who exactly are you supposed to be?”

Falazi: ”We were sent by Tynsagma to pick you up after you got the artifact. We came on a small sailboat, and I don't think those Ufurcans saw us, so we should have no trouble sailing to Princebank. But I repeat: do you have the artifact?”

Trettos: ”Do you... mind if we make a little call?”

They use the Heartlock to contact Tynsagma.

Tynsagma: ”Yes, I sent Miklos and Adrian to make sure you got here safely. You don't really have a ship you can use, right?”

Agernásson: ”You really should've notified us ahead of time.”

Tynsagma: ”I have no way to know when it's safe. If anyone on the enemy side heard me talking to you, the whole plan would be ruined. Can't be too careful.”

They turn back towards the two men.

Agernásson: ”Okay, we believe you. But how does your master intend to keep us hidden? We might have a head start, but the Lord-Admiral and his mages can definitely use magic to track us.”

Falazi: ”Don't ask me, but I'm sure he has something planned. He has managed to hide himself for several years, after all. Just come with us and we'll figure it out; we'll even let you hold onto the artifact for now.”

The group shares some worried glances.

Falazi: ”So, are you ready to go or what?”
Falazi
The Falazi are a subrace of humans, native to Falaz'gat. They are especially notable for their silvery skin, magical talent and the draconic heritage causing them. In ancient times, they and their draconic patrons put up a good fight, but were eventually conquered by the Imperials, as they refer to the humans of the Elderland Imperium. Despite becoming a minority in their own land, they still remain in the countryside and often rebel against the kingdom that shares their name.
This might be a little confusing around parts... or not. Do tell if something's hard to understand.

Penn's "accident" was pretty dramatic around the table, especially as we really aren't sure who yelled that they were pushing him in. There were no hard feelings, and it was mostly just plain absurd, but everyone will definitely remember that moment for a while.

Icaea's first ever Turn Undead was a glorious success both in and out of character. Maybe he'll start using his spells soon, too. :smalltongue:

I wasn't sure whether this simple dungeon was that interesting (it's been a while since I planned one), but the final battle in particular somehow got a lot of praise from the players. Go figure.

[SilverLeaf167]

Okay, sorry for stretching this announcement out so long (for whoever is still following), but after several months of indecisive faffing about and scheduling issues, this campaign has been put on decisive hiatus at least until summer. Two players (Gorn and Trettos) aren't available, so in the meantime we've decided to start a separate campaign, also set in Lorelm. I might be posting that journal later, but in the meantime I made a thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?511044-What-makes-a-campaign-journal-good&p=21560742#post21560742) asking about people's reading preferences.

[wobner]

Okay, sorry for stretching this announcement out so long (for whoever is still following), but after several months of indecisive faffing about and scheduling issues, this campaign has been put on decisive hiatus at least until summer. Two players (Gorn and Trettos) aren't available, so in the meantime we've decided to start a separate campaign, also set in Lorelm. I might be posting that journal later, but in the meantime I made a thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?511044-What-makes-a-campaign-journal-good&p=21560742#post21560742) asking about people's reading preferences.

disappointed to hear about the hiatus, but i appreciate the announcement. too many journals just disappear without a word. Hope you get back to playing(and posting).