Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

I am running an epic Palladium Fantasy game- link to the full site is in my signature. My favorite part is the campaign logs, written up by my characters, in character.
Had a few requests from people to put some of these on the boards- so I will start with a few old ones, and then just put up a new one after 2 weeks- First, I will pick my 6 favorite from the past 100 plus logs.
They will be in order, but a little disjointed- 6 logs out of 28 sessions will do that.... Again, for more, just check out the game.

Log 1- "My Dinner With Andre...Err"- Chip= writer. Player Characters In CrIsis (player group) At Time: Bexx- Human Mind Melter from Rifts Earth, Chip- Sea Titan Ley Line Walker from Rifts Earth, Overkill- Dwarven Mariner and former Pirate, Greldarr- Wolfen Priest of Osiris
Story follows:

Well, wasn’t that Fun. Capitol F. Like having dinner with mom and dad when i was young.

A strained affair. One wrought with tensions.

So after a fair-stretch of navel-gazing and soul-searching (mostly by a Goddess and directed at me…), finally I’ve taken to my own senses. Good thing, too.

Our pilot, Bexx, who seems bound and determined to dock his boat anywhere that will have him, has survived interrogation at the benign hands of the Librarian. Nice one.

Our Master Red Dwarf, Overkill, separated from the group and distracted by agents of the Librarian, comes to our table, sans news.

Our Priest of Light and Dark, Greldarr, shade and sun, what-have-you. Personally, I call it Taoism, some yin-and-yang, others simply good and bad. All equally misjudged. However, if the Wolfen would speak his (simple?) mind, perhaps our path would be more clear. More… precise. Like a ray of light. Rather than the scattered EMF of a dying sun intent upon one last purge of matter before supernova. Our Priest of Light comes to table… and offers barely a salivary glance.

Clearly, we need some direction. Any direction. But, thanks to our host, Falimede, that rarest of qualities will be scattered further afield, wider still, until we are stretched to… well. stretched. My breaking point has yet to be tested, and I feel confident of the same of my companions.

We yearn for direction.
Instead, we are offered diversion. Time wasted, and a decision to be made. Dinner brings more than mere courses, it brings artifice and distraction. A Letter. Most dire. Pffaw! Has nobody here heard of a RADIO!?! Ten years or more in the secretive chambers of the most vaunted, Library of Bletherad, the Library known to the Megaverse, and we, humble servants of Isis all, are conscripted into service by one of her minions… to find yet more libraries?

The Gods Must be Crazy.

However, it must be noted with interest, that there are yet more libraries. And here I was beginning to think that the New Navy Web was a paragon…

At any rate, beyond some minor squabbles over “proper dress uniform” (clearly defined in the New Navy Personnel Manual), and the fortuitous yet unlikely commingling of our august personages (i always wanted to say that…), dinner, such as it was, commenced without interruption or hazard.

Though I did note how much and of what the Wolfen partook.

After some time, and having indulged many tastes and pairings, we settled on the age-old process of negotiations. I, of course, could not be swerved from my course, and demanded the stars. After all, we were on a God’s Errand. Doubtless someone with such strong ties to the Clergy could exact the means and fees required to keep me in such vital contact with them? Well and good that they should teach me how to cast a sending, some magical pigeon (primarily used as gruel or protein supplements in the New Navy’s further-outposts), carrying missive. Unfortunately, regardless of how quick a study I happen to be, our week will be filled with yet more drudgery as I etch the cadence, nuance and flow of these new magicks into my mind.

In the mean-time, I believe we have much to discover.
After all, it seems we are to assault a Pirate-King’s Isle, one who has, perchance, already slipped into the afterlife, and remains yet animate, a ghostly God over his salty sailors. With luck, and tenacity as our guides, we may yet uncover and return to Haven a Piece of a God.

Isis Be Praised.

Until then, I remain
Chip Samuel
Magus of the Fifth Sphere, Honored of Isis
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Log 2- For anyone that has nightmares, be warned. This one from the ranger, Cava, who self imposed a possession (I have some great PC's).

The Waking Nightmare-

My dreams have been dark and disturbing, of late. Well, my dreams have always been dark and disturbing, but they were always the same, and I kind of got used to them. I say them, but really, there has only ever been the one. Since Sims, however, it has changed.

At first, the dream was the same, save for the addition of a ritual chanting, soft and seductive, resonating within the dark corners of my mind. Over the next few weeks, the chanting grew louder, and now I can make out words:

“Altfl Mn Aldhlam! Altfl Mn Aldhlam! The Child of Dark is come!”

With pleasure, I watch those I love die. Hot blood spills over me, and my heart rejoices as a long, wailing howl fills my ears.

I awake with a start, and my body aches. It’s as if I had spent the night fighting, not resting, and my scars burn as if they had been carved anew into my flesh; indeed, my exertions during the night must have been extreme, for the marks on my shoulders have torn open; the dark blood wells up to form rivers of dye that stain my clothes and discolor the ground.

This new dream stays with me throughout the day, every day. Teasing my heart and tripping my thoughts. I am too easily distracted, forgetful, and short of temper. This has become too much for me, and I will seek help when we return to The Pyramid of Osiris.

At the temple, I visit the Ramen with some few of my companions, intent on begging their help, but when the Ramen look upon me, the Darkness rises up and silences my tongue that I can not speak.

The dream’s effects have grown stronger. I feel the Darkness within, shifting softly and watching for it’s chance to pounce, as the foolishness of my companions begins to anger me.

Last night it changed again.

I see my parents, my Love, and the assassins gathered together, but as if from a distance. A series of three long, wailing howls fill my ears, followed by a succession of three quick yelps, and the chanting seeps in from the darkness:

“Altfl Mn Aldhlam! Altfl Mn Aldhlam! The Child of Dark is come! Altfl Mn Aldhlam! Altfl Mn Aldhlam! The Child of Dark is come!”

I witness the Child of Dark receive the Marks of the Seventy-Two, in honor of the Seventy-Two Subjects of the Dusky Queen, and the chanting grows louder.

I watch as the Septenation of the first Guardian Finds the Way.

The chanting grows louder, and I smile as the Septination of the second Guardian Prepares the Path.

The chanting grows louder, and Dark joy fills my heart as the Septination of The Beloved Opens the Way.

The chanting reaches a crescendo as Wahdh Farghh, The Empty One, is born.


I awake to find I am confined within a dimly-lit cell. The wooden walls and the movement of the floor tells me I must be on board a ship. Through the darkness, I can make out the shape of my axe, resting on a chest at the foot of my bed.

I smile. My captors have foolishly neglected to disarm me. I seize my weapon and hack through the door. The blood on my shoulders flies through the air to form patterns on the walls, the floor and the blade of my axe, as if in promise of more to come.

I enter the hallway, and am attacked by a dwarf. My axe bites deep, and a voice in my ears exults: “I name thee Wahdh Farghh, The Empty One: Altfl Mn Aldhlam, Child of Dark and destroyer of light.” A large knife of some kind strikes me, and I cannot move.

The Darkness rises up, and swallows me whole.

I awake to find myself lying in shackles: a true prisoner. All around is chaos as I hear scuffling sounds, and people arguing. I open my eyes and see that I am lying at the foot of the stairs, rather than in my bunk. I struggle to my knees, trying to think, refusing to believe what I see; unable to accept the unacceptable. My movements capture the attention of everyone around me, and I am instantly greeted with the business ends of several weapons. They speak, and the truth crashes around my ears. I try to explain, to beg forgiveness, to find some way to make things right, but I know nothing will ever be the same again.

The small one tries to see Within my mind, but the Darkness reaches forth. The Power surges within me, and I casually snap the chains that bind me as I lift Myself to My feet with but a thought. Rage darkens My sight as I berate those foolish enough to pit themselves against the Will of Anubis, Guardian of the Scales, Lord of the Underworld. I know they seek to restore Osiris, the overthrown, whom I mummified and helped to disperse that I could reform the Underworld by My Design.

Why would they do such a thing?

I seize the dwarf and demand an accounting, but his mouthings are foul, so I throw him away. I pick up the child, but he is unable to speak. I would force his tongue, but am distracted by an upstart wolfen who yells defiance in the name of Isis, the impotent and bemused. Suddenly, a pretty man with a proud heart stabs me with a trident and, for the first time in aeons, I feel pain.

I will destroy this one. His soul shall reside in my privy, that I may void my bowels upon him.

A Sword of Light commands my attention, and the pretty one is able to block my attack. I prepare to destroy him, but the upstart wolfen takes up the Sword of Light, and for the second time, agony sears through my body.

The wolfen will be next. I shall skin him alive, and his pelt shall adorn the bed of Anput, my beloved wife. After congress, I shall use it to cleanse the seed from my manhood, and in turn, he shall be called upon to cleanse his fur with his tongue.

I punch the pretty one into the wall, and he falls senseless to the floor. His will be a lingering death. Several centuries, I think.

I turn to the wolfen, to put his feet on the path of his Eternal Destiny, when the child offers up to me a stuffed animal which explodes in my face. For the third time in as many millennia, white-hot agony courses through me, and I feel weak.

I shall give this child to the Deviants, who will make sport of his orifices, one after the other, for eternity.

But what is this? The Vessel is awake! In my weakened state, he has broken free!

He speaks to his companions, I must…

The Sword of Light!

I woke up for the third time today, exhausted in mind, body and spirit. Every inch of me burned, inside and out. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into my bunk, and sleep for a week, but Greldarr insisted on performing an exorcism on me immediately. He stopped after a few moments because apparently some kind of bird arrived, and it set off a fierce discussion about books, for some reason. I went to bed.

Greldarr and I spent the greater part of the day secreted in my cabin while he performed an exorcism. Towards the end of the ritual, the cry of “Pirates!” went up. Without pausing to don my armor, I grabbed Inas and joined Gavin in the crow’s nest, just as Chip managed to shoot everyone on deck with the light cannon, much the same as Rell did a few days ago.

I counted 6 ships, one of which had launched a barrage of stones at the crow’s nest. I tried to dodge, and Gavin threw up some kind of shield, but I was struck by two of the stones. I attempted to return fire, but my arrow bounced off solid air, right in front of my face.

Yeah. Shield. Right.

That gave me an idea. I waited until the first ship had fired at the crow’s nest again, and I bore my buttocks at them as the rocks bounced uselessly off Gavin’s shield.

Then Chip shot everyone on deck again.

Suddenly, Gavin started to climb down the rigging, which was fine by me, but with his shield up, I couldn’t fire upon the pirates. I attempted to climb down below Gavin’s shield, and the next thing I knew, I was experiencing the most wonderful sensation of weightlessness, followed by a fierce rushing of air past my head as the deck and I prepared to establish an extremely intimate friendship, the likes of which I had never prepared for.

Posted by Cava on the 8th of Corg
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by Tyberius »

I noticed you have some videos on youtube. What are those for?
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

The videos are used to either hype the site (the intro videos) or to give my players a sense of what is to come- and then I update those to show a sense of what happened.
My players love them, so I keep doing them.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Last of the Older Logs that I am posting- for more just hit the link in my signature and go to campaigns- there are over 100...
This is from the slightly unhinged Gnome Air Warlock, Tyvernos.

To the tune of Bohemian Rhapsody-

‘Is it just Palladium Fantasy?
Caught in a CrIsis,
No escape from Victor’s Tyranny

Open my eyes,
Look up to the skies and see,
I’m just a poor gnome, I need no sympathy,
Because I’m easy come, easy go,
Little thighs, little toes
Anywhere the wind blows, doesn’t really matter…
To me

Mama, I just killed a demon,
Put a black hole on his head,
Cast my spell and now he’s dead.

Mama! CrIsis had just begun,
But Otto’s gone and thrown it all away
Mama! Oooh! It’s buried in the sand,
If we don’t dig that bone up before tomorrow…
Carry on, carry on but if its really swallowed…

Too late, his crime is done,
The canine’s gotta go — put my glove on, pinch my nose
Goodbye little boney you’ve gotta go — gotta leave
the dog’s behind and face the poop
Mama! Ooooh! I don’t wanna die!
I sometimes wish I’d never been born a gnome!’

Song Pause- I composed the preceding verse as the impromptu de facto CrIsis Bard in Stweeb’s establishment in Me’zfii Onh whilst we bid our former fellow Scion adieu. Rell has moved on to more verdant leas and greener pastures. Alas, mother, I am getting ahead of myself as I am wont to do. After vanquishing the dread pirate’s treasure hunters we were left to the task of divvying the dead man’s loot. To the rictus go the spoils! It pained me to see the members of our merry band burdened with the onerous task and monumental undertaking of distributing ph@t l3wtz (this last is decidedly unintelligible).

’I see a little silhouetto of a gnome,
Scattered-douche, Kharted-touche, will you give the gnome a weapon?
Elemental lightning, very very frightening, me!
Meditate-oh, meditate-oh,
Meditate-oh, meditate-oh,
Meditation sleepy no! Fatigue-oh!

I am just a poor gnome, nobody loves me,
Otto is just a poor dog from an elven family,
Spare him his fur from this monstrosity!
Easy bone, easy throw, will you fetch for me — NO!
Evil dog… Will not fetch for you!
Easy throw! Evil dog… Will not fetch for you!
Easy throw! Evil dog… Will not fetch for you!
Easy throw! Will not fetch for you!
Easy throw! Never fetch for you!
Easy throw! Never never fetch for you ah no no no no no no no…!
Oh Bennu-mia Bennu-mia Bennu-mia let him go!
AnuBIScharUN the dark gods put aside for me…
For me! FOR ME!!!!’

(the next part is scrawled in the chicken-scratch equivalent of 2nd grade Dragonese — minus 40% on your literacy roll)

Large depression — cave-collapse. Horses, all of us, barely saved. How are we going to discern the good loot from the bad loot?? Let’s EXTRACT all the booty! South Wind and Trigger are still attached to the litter. The GM goes LINKDEAD!!! Tyvernos ducks inside the tent and begins to meditate while most of the others mill about and sift through the pile of booty. We rest in the tent and then Darksong comes to congratulate us on having defeated the big bad evil monster! He is such a nice guy. Alu Demons accompany him in the festivities.

Tyvernos is scared ****! The monkey is flinging excrement from his colostomy bag! Chip captures three demons in a net. Cava smacks down one of the SOBs! Tyvernos gets slashed and loses much health and well-being, and retaliates by creating a whirlwind that thrashes and flings the Alu demons 40’ away to slam against trees and rocks and dash upon the ground. CAVA CRITICALLY STRIKES!!! H u z z a h ! ! Karma charges an Alu and skewers him — Paladin-Shishkabob Style! The remaining demons scatter and flee for their lives. Out of the ground behind us we hear groaning and bones creaking and an army of animated skeletons approaching from the south and begin climbing out of the ground. Ack! Chip waved his hands and the evil Night Owl recoiled in terror and appeared to be gravely wounded and fled saying “We will recover the bones of Osiris,” before disappearing. When he left the undead army disintegrated.

‘So you think you can chop me and cook me to fry!
So you think you can FEAR me and leave me to cry!
Oh baby! Fear wears off in one turn baby!
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of the Claw’

Karma rules with a SCEPTER!

Cava spooks with a DAGGER!

I get burned by a scimitar, drop it, and step back.

Gavin psychically analyzes an OBJECT!

Chip opens some CHESTS!

Before I knew it we were back in Mezfi’Onh and Rell goes his separate way. His ring flies off his finger and onto a LIZARD MAN!!! OH GOSH!!! I cuddled up with Gavin for some healing and sandwiched the poor boy between my pudge and the shag carpet.

’Nothing really matters, any gnome can see,
Nothing really matters,
Nothing really matters…to me.

Any way the wind blows…’

Written by Tyvernos on the 1st of Corg, in the 68th Year of the Wolfen Empire.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

This log is from the current crop written for our most recent game. This is from Captain Overkill, the Dwarf. It sums up his opinions of the Gods of Light that have chosen the members of CrIsis, the player group, and tells of their current situation. Another log will be posted next week, after our game on Saturday the 28th, 2012.
Please let me know if you are enjoying these, or hate them.

Mary,

I am well. It’s the middle of the night and I perhaps am just saying this to myself as I do not have magic as Chip did (he died recently fighting an Ice Dragon), so perhaps I am muttering to myself, but it must be said.

Mini made it back to his home to be with his beloved. We had over three dozen new companions and they needed a place to call home but when we got back on the open sea we got heading towards the Sea of Despair (nasty place). There have been fights with dragons and elementals but I didn’t write to tell you about the wild adventure we are having. I wanted to write about the gods, then tell you about the adventure that we’re having.

As you know, this is the month of Thoth; god of knowledge and my personal favorite of the bunch as he has kept all his promises (well the others have too but he is still my favorite, after all he did give me the gift on my leg). It funny how now that I have been on this adventure that I have started to see the personalities of the gods, well at least five of them, perhaps six.

Osiris – The guy works hard to pull himself together to give a message to me and a few others. I am certain that he feels that its time be the father of the pantheon. A god of few words but when he speaks, you should listen.

Isis – This god is a bonfire waiting to happen contained in a beautiful and eloquent frame. Her trust comes as something earned. I am certain that I was not her favorite initially as I was a uncut diamond hell bent on breaking loose as soon as possible, but the old psalm is true (yes I have been studying religion). You trust the one you love and you have faith in the one you trust. I trust she keeps you safe in Northolme.

Thoth – I do not know if I told you about how I got the tattoo that decorates my leg (or if I ever shut up about it when I got it). Thoth was impressed by the way that I defended his honor. I imagine that it was much like a priest and though I didn’t know it, I learned that they would have killed me for what I said (the Island of Enry has some very different ideas of Thoth) but I am certain that Thoth knows that I would do it again if the opportunity arise).

Bennu – The phoenix goddess is unknown to me but I am certain that when it was her time to watch us that she did with the view that Ra tends to do which is a bit aloof and more in the shadows; perhaps more then any of them, even Ra.

Ra – He doesn’t show emotion and tends to not want to interfere in the affairs of CrIsis, and yet I sense that he thinks us as an uncle thinks of his nephews and nieces, which it’s none of his business but if he has to he will interfere for our mother’s sake (Isis). I am certain that I have bothered him enough with prayer, yet he tolerates it because he has grown fond of our dedication (not necessarily of us but definitely of our effort).

Finally there is…

Horus – The sphinx god and adopted son of Osiris and Isis. I have seen him too face to face as one man talks to another. You were right in that I have died. I do not know if I am his favorite because he was always cryptic and smiling like he enjoyed the paradox that is Overkill the Mariner. You know he told me about our daughter a day before your message arrived. I have worked fervently to keep from being killed and to get back to Northolme. I almost fear that I cannot finish what I have started because I have roots in you and Boduri. My family means the world to me. I guess that I didn’t realize it until I was at Sinza, but alas, I am thousands of miles from you and will not return until this is done.

I am not sure how this adventure is going to end. I have seen a lot of us die and come back but some of us were not so lucky.

Enough mushy stuff; here is the adventure that you have missed. After we had wrestled with the dragons and had gone on our way it was a week later I guess that we came across the rocky clearing that the captains of Bizantium record in their maps and then burn, because it was very difficult to weave, but we pulled it off (thank Thoth), only to find a chest that was lodged in the rocks. I never would have thought of it, but it was a kind of buried treasure.

After getting the booty on board we were on our way again. There were so many rocks and the surf got harder and harder. I didn’t see until it was almost upon us, but thanks to Cava we saw a sea serpent that was following us and it was coming fast. When it overtook us it wrapped its whole body around the ship. I wasn’t about to lose my ship with my companions so we got the bugger to let go and die in a matter of seconds. The blows that we did hit the mark almost every time and we were covered in the creatures blood when it was done, but it almost seemed a distraction because shortly after it died we came to a fog and more rocks.

Who knew that the fog was magic and we were toast. We hit those rocks with such a force that two of my now sleeping companions were thrown from the ship and we were taking on water fast. Cava knew some techniques to keep us from sinking but while he was away the fog over took me and I too was asleep.

When I awoke there were humans with green robes with the symbol of Isis. They had taken us to their village and had stripped us of our weapons and any other thing that they were threatened by. There was an examination (for wounds I guess) and then we were all escorted to a single room together (still without out weapons).

After talking to my companions I realized that Cava still was not with us. I feared the worse (that he drowned) but he showed up some hours later and told his story of the small boats and these women that controlled the island. Though I sense that you would of liked it here with all the women in charge there is something amiss here and I cannot put my finger on it.

I do not know how you will get this message but I pray that you are safe. Something evil is here and we may have brought it. Pray for me.

Yours forever,

Overkill

Prayed to Thoth on the 4th of Thoth, in the 68th Year of the Wolfen Empire with hopes that it will fall upon Mary’s ears.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

Log from the last game, by Overkill the Dwarven Mariner, for the game on 7/28/12- Running Lemaria from the Seas book.

Mary,

We went head to head with a demon rune sword (ok it’s the second time going against him). After getting out of prison and recovering some of our weapons (it was easy as people were bleeding and running all over the place), we went and faced the beast. The battle was short but he went down. The only only people that helped us take down that demon/Minion of the Old Ones were two Lemarians, Raf and Alandra; and even then they had us arrested.

I really though that Necrom would have won if it wasn’t for S’Erith, who took him down with his spirit mumbo jumbo. Did Alandra appreciate our work? No, we got arrested again. This island is really getting to me.

We were brought before the court after a night in jail. We couldn’t resist as Necrom the Undying kicked our butts all over- half of us were in a coma when it was done so there was no resistance, though we did get to keep our weapons, not that that helped as I was so beat I could barely lift my swords.

So, like I said, we were before the high priestess Ferra. She was ruthless, associating us with conspirators and dark associates of the Old Ones. When it came our turn,my main man Cava was the speaker for us and he was on fire, going head to head with the woman. The embarrassing moment was when he called for the Gods to testify on our behalf; in front of the court, nothing. Not that I blame him, he’s not a show doll or animal. I am ashamed that I thought for a moment that the Gods would have shown as proof of our divine mission. The team went back to jail after we missed a visit.

For a while I prayed to find what I had done wrong or if there was something missing. Nothing was missing; we just wanted too much. We heard that two of our party were not accounted for (our psychic and his girl Morgan) were missing. They talked about the possibility that they ran off to the ‘forbidden part of the island’. It turns out that first they had their baby, and then came to the town we were in. Who knew that they figured out how to mix with society and would give us the heads up on everything that was going on outside of jail? I am so glad that they had not split when this all went bad. Before I knew it we were healed and we had a plan to leave the city.

It wasn’t long before we were out and running. We left everything except what we carried behind. That rune chest- man I miss it; all that swag. It was while we were setting up camp that the god Thoth shows up. I got on my knees so fast. I was embarrassed for even doubting him for a second. I wanted to cry like a little boy.

I am somewhat grateful that he gave me nothing but mercy to breathe (well he did heal my wounds). He blessed Gavin. and Morgan’s new baby, Karma’s lance (restoring its powers) and did some wonders on Cava’s axe then he did the oddest thing, he switched S’Erith with an elf named Alric; man that guy has history (or not). He took Cava to a contest of arrows and Cava lost (still can’t believe it). The guy is an assassin with no memory of who he really is. I am not really sure that his name is Alric but hey, it works for now.

Thoth has told us that after our mission we can go back to the city of Cassandra and that all will go better with the children of the city. For now we’re on our way for the Isle of Set. No real map but a great idea of where it is. We spent breakfast with a new set of redheads (reminds me of home). These guys, and women, turned out to be the Lemaria rebels. Nice huh. They have taken in Cava real well and he is a lot happier.

I’m still watching my back Mary.

Overkill

Prayer to Thoth for his beloved on the 9th of Thoth, in the 23nd year of King Bafag.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Log from the last game, 8/4/12, from Alric, the reforming Elf.... Amazing what a full mind wipe will do to a humanoid....

Dearest Rebecca,

I am tempted as I sit down to write to send this missive through a magical pigeon. Yes, you heard me. Apparently we have each been given three copies of the spell in the form of a scroll. I don’t know what to do, but as Thoth gave the scrolls to us for a purpose, and I can’t believe that it is to send three letters to my wife.

My wife…that is such a strange concept. I have long, well long for me anyway, thought of you as a friend, but to think of you as more, as a part of me, my companion through life, is almost more than I can believe.

Enough of that. You know my regard for you, and I must tell you of the things that have happened in the past three days since writing my previous letter.

It was the morning of Thoth 9, and the bandits had left, leaving us with a wild boar. It would seem that Cava’s congress with them bore unexpected fruits, or at least fruit of a different type. They were bandits, but I find myself unable to condemn another man for something that was less than I myself have committed, even if I myself no longer remember it.

We had a quick council and decided that we would likely need to fly to find the location of this fabled lake, the middle of which contained the Isle of Set. Something within me feels a foreboding as we approach the Isle, and I hope that it is simply the general unease which I feel trying to measure up to the other members of the legendary CrIsis.

As Tyvernos refused to fly all of us, complaining of a lack of power, Gavin was sent to scout for us. Cava stepped forward into a leadership role in all of this, and I find that it suits him. While he does not have the skills of speech that others in the group possess, when he does speak, people listen. I find myself willing to defer to his judgment, for even if he seems younger than my biological years, he is much more experienced in the world than my mental years allow.

Gavin quickly scouted the island and told us the location of much of the surrounding flora, and a good portion of the man made structures. We took our bearings from that, and began to head in the direction of our proposed destination.

We rested that night, secure in the knowledge that on the morrow we would see the object of this quest. The night passed without real trouble, and the next morning we again set out. The day was beautiful. Truly comfortable, and the sky was a clear blue. It made me wonder what the weather was like for you. Many things remind me of you these days, and I promise to keep myself safe, should it be Horus’ will, and return to you one day.

The idyl was shattered by the sound of a troupe descending upon our position. We took up defensive positions with Overkill sounding the retreat and climbing a tree. Cava also climbed a tree, but with how he readied his bow I can only assume that it was to get a better angle at our pursuers.

I readied my bow in my main hand, and my axe in my off, and prepared to fight, should other avenues fail us. Gavin grabbed his wife and jumped up into a tree. Tyvernos jumped into a bush shouting something about mushrooms.

Soldiers came into view a short while later, and they called out to us. It transpired that they were lead by a soldier named Raf with whom CrIsis had dealings before I arrived. He’d been contacted by Thoth in a dream, something for him that was out of the ordinary, and told that we were truly sent by the Gods. With how shaken he appeared having only seen a God in a dream, I wonder how meeting one face to face would alter him. I know it changed me.

The other members of CrIsis talk of speaking with Gods face to face, and I can only boggle at it. I am a normal elf of unassuming nature. Who am I to be thrust into the heady air that these people breathe. I know how Raf feels at the moment, either way.

Overwhelmed.

Raf tells the other soldiers to return to Ferra Simsar and joins us, offering to guide us to the lake. We accept his help not without some complaints from Cava. If what they say of what happened in the past are true, then I can’t blame them.

We are walking for a couple of hours when Raf points out a trip-line laid by a spider. Were it to be a regular sized spider, it would have been nothing more than a naturalist curiosity. As it was the size of a rope, it was much more than that. We were wary, but nothing happened to us that confirmed it as anything more than caution.

Upon reaching the lake, Raf prepared to bid us farewell when we requested him to come with us. I’m unsure who first proposed it, but in the end it seemed to gain general acclaim. He was unsure of his place in our quest, and unsure what we were about so Cava asked Karma to show him the finger.

After Flipping Raf off, she pulled the finger of Osiris from her bodice and showed it to him. Raf bowed before it. I wanted to do the same. Who are CrIsis that they treat such a holy relic so casually?

We unanimously ratify Raf joining us after he finally accedes to our request.

After a short argument of how we are to cross occurred, we finally decided on using the Karma Air Ferry service offered by none other than Karma. Tyvernos will be giving her flight on the morrow, and she will ferry us across two at a time.

I had first watch with Raf. I’m not sure what happened. Either Raf is a much better card sharp than I am, or I was so horrible at it last night that I helped him to win. He took the deck in payment as he wanted nothing else. The deck. I feel so horrible about losing something touched by the Gods, but I put it up and he won. I can’t very well tell him I was cheating in his favor, now can I. And if he was cheating? Well, people often react violently when they are called out.

After losing, we notice that there are five humanoid heads moving through the forest. Unaware what it might be, I yell out, “To Arms!” leaping to my feet.

The heads leave, and everyone grumbles. Cava mentions something about me being a ‘New Guy’ to Overkill and they all go back to sleep.

I’d only just gotten to sleep when Cava yelled out, “Karma, It’s for you!”

The heads I saw earlier were attached to Centaur bodies. This would be the first strange visitor over the next couple of hours that would cryptically warn us about going to the island. We realize that the area is dangerous. Telling us it is dangerous does nothing for any of us.

Cava tells us about this point that Necrom, an evil sword wrapped in leather, is talking to him. I’m worried about this, but as everyone else takes it as a matter of course I don’t raise my voice.

The next day, Thoth 11, dawned clear and bright. It was, if anything, even more perfect than the previous day. Tyvernos cast flight upon Karma, and the rest of us watched as Karma, Gavin, and Overkill left in the first flight of the day.

Soon we saw a dragon approaching Karma through the air, as a sea serpent approached us along the water. Cava was hurt by the serpent, and Karma by the dragon. In the end, Tyvernos’ air elemental killed the serpent and the dragon demanded that we get him a blue diamond. I was all for just getting the diamond for the dragon, but other people had other ideas.

In the end we agreed, but there were calls by one or two people to deceive the dragon. I wonder at CrIsis considering deceit of a being who has done nothing but deal with us truthfully…so far. We attacked the dragon when he demanded we surrender. Sometimes it makes sense to concede defeat rather than court death.

I am not a coward. You know this. Sometimes though, an intelligent person has to recognize their limits, and fighting a fully grown Ice Dragon seems to be a bit beyond us at the present time.

After the non-fight with the dragon, we ferried across to the island. No sooner were we there then a crashing sound announced some large beast running through the forest. We ran from it. We’d had enough of dragons, serpents, and anything else big and nasty. Karma, Gavin, and Tyvernos fell as we ran, unnoticed by any but Cava.

He called for us to stop and help the fallen, which we, mostly, did. A big thing with three eyes on stalks charged out of the woods after us. It had been saying “Squirrel Run” as we were running from it, and Cava said ‘Squirrel that way,” pointing off to the right. The thing didn’t buy it, as it called itself squirrel.

Gavin did a backflip to try to regain his feet and landed on his stomach. Apparently he put too much of his psionic energy into the feat. Karma did a backflip at the same time, only she landed on her feet. Never thought I’d see a centaur do a backflip.

Karma planted her lance in the dirt like a pike and the creature impaled itself upon it. In an effort to help, Raf threw Gavin at the beast, where he seemed to be frozen in fear. We were ripping into the nasty beast when it decided to shoot rays of light from its eyes. Karma was turned to stone, but the other two people that it looked at avoided the rays.

As soon as the beast began to really bleed, it ran away from us. Everything deserves the opportunity to learn from its mistakes, even twenty foot tall stone-turning beasts like that one.

Raf returned Karma to her fleshy form and we considered that battle over.

As our healers and mages were wiped out of power completely by the two battles in quick succession, they decided to stay under Karma’s care while the rest of us (Cava, Overkill, Raf, and I) went scouting. We saw another of the eyestalk creatures, but we hid and it passed us by.

Necrom didn’t leave us alone. Raf grabbed the sword and tried to run. Cava tripped him as he ran away. I tried to knock him out, but I failed to strike him just right. Raf did a backflip to his feet and began to run off again. In trying to trip Raf, Overkill fell flat on his back.

None of us was really getting anywhere with this, so Cava threw his axe at the package that Raf was carrying. Raf tried to dodge, but fell on the ground and the package was sent flying.

Seeing an opportunity, I ran to pick up the sword, but missed it as I ran past. Raf got to his feet and planted his pike in the dirt in an effort to defend his position. Overkill tried to get up, but only ended up looking like a fish out of water. Cava spun deftly by the pike and grabbed the sword.

I again tried to stun Raf, but only succeeded in doing more damage to him. I was beginning to feel as though I would kill him before knocking him out.

Raf succeeded in his knockout blow and Cava went down. I tried to take him out as he ran away, but failed completely.

Overkill prayed to Thoth to save us. Up to that point I had no real concept of what Necrom was, and still I think the reality is worse than imagining, but the actions of the other two trying to stop this thing told me all I needed to know. I prayed wordlessly, hoping beyond hope that we would survive the day.

In an instant we found ourselves in a group again, Thoth having saved Raf and taken the sword into his keeping.

I, for one, do not mourn the loss of that sword.

We continued on toward the manor house in the center of the island, the destination that we had been told to seek by the Dragon. We were accosted by the second person to offer warning but no advice. This one a pretty elf named Fala. I avoided her wiles by thinking of you.

We stand now in front of the manor. I know not what will happen as we try to enter, but there is a feeling of evil here, and I don’t know what the future holds for us.

All my love,

Alric

Written by Alric Treadstone on the 11th of Thoth in his 3rd year of his second life, also known as the 68th year of the Wolfen Empire.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

Log from the 8/18/12 session, made by a guest player, Raf the Captain of the Lemarian Guard-

I came to myself soaked to the bone by sea-spray. At least I assumed it was sea-spray, as I could feel the familiar grinding crunch of sand beneath my boots. I heard a deep rumble, like rocks being ground together in an old mill. I looked up and saw a giant ice dragon towering above me. I saw a little figure on its head, though I couldn’t make it out clearly. The dragon’s deep voice rumbled across the beach, “ENOUGH.” Alric started immediately to negotiate and try to smooth talk him. Smooth talking a dragon, man that guy is gutsy. The dragon demanded gold, of course. What a cliché. Seeing as the group was recently detained in my prison, they didn’t have much gold on hand. As such, we asked what else the dragon might want that we could barter with. The dragon commented on how tasty I looked, and that he was hungry. I looked around at my newfound friends, and they nearly put me on a silver platter to save their purses. Trading a comrade for coin! We did eventually get the truth out of the dragon, however. It gave us a quest, to retrieve a blue diamond from the manor in the center of the island, and we had to return within 48 hours. We accepted, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The dragon flew off with a torrent of displaced air.

Then, a curious little hermit came out of the forest, grabbed some water in an old pot, and went scurrying back to the forest.

With a look shared between us, we set off toward the center of the Island. Not 3 steps into the vegetation, and we hear a roar “SQUIRREL! SMASH!” coming from a distance and getting closer quickly. We make a quick decision to run in the opposite direction as this thing, whom or whatever it may be, whether smashing ‘squirrels’ or commanding the squirrels to smash us. We realize that it is gaining on us, and we do an about face mid-sprint to confront it. Not everyone has the training I do, so a few of the others ended up ends up. I rushed to help Gavin, and a huge creature crashes through the trees into the small clear space we were in. It was huge, with three googley eyes looking everywhere and nowhere. I helped Gavin up… well more correctly I threw him up on top of the beast. It was impaled by the paladin, and was attacked by several of the others. I rushed toward it and thrust my Pike through the center eye stalk. Foul smelling mucus oozed out and down the pike, dripping onto the grass before it reached my hand. The beast roared in pain and confusion, leapt back and ripped my pike from its stalk. In even more pain, it shrieked “Squirrel, RUN!” Taking in my surroundings I notice that not all of my companions were able to escape his stonifying stare, and the centaur stood like a statue, mid-leap. Instead of giving chase, I rushed to her side. Calling on my goddess, Isis, I touched the petrified flanks with my blessed pike, and returned Karma to flesh.

By this time we were all tired and injured; some more than others. We walked to a hill overlooking the jungle, a perfectly defensible location, so that the injured could heal.
Three others and I decided to go on a scouting expedition to the Manor to better plan our incursion. On the way, I heard a seductive whisper in my ear. “We could rule the world.” Visions of Lemaria passed through my eyes, only with men ruling. Flashbacks of the battle with the demon sword coming to the surface, but instead of tightness in my stomach, my usual reaction to terrible battles, I felt a rush of power, hatred and glee. My eyes were pulled to a leather package in Cava’s pack. Raw need pulsed through my arms, and my hands started tingling. I lunged for it; the group burst into action, everyone doing something. All I could see was need for the package. In the scuffle, I knocked Cava unconscious, and ran off into the woods; fingers shaking as they fumbled with the package. Then out of nowhere, Thoth appeared in front of me. He filled me with a warmth and power enough to throw off the Demon. He held his hand out and I put the package, with a sword handle poking out, into it. He whisked me to the hilltop with the injured, which were looking refreshed and raring to go. I told them of my glorious encounter, and bolstered by that, we all head off to finish the dragon’s quest.

We started off sneaking, and even though we were hidden, an elf, Fala, attempted to turn us from our quest. I see this as yet another attempt for the powers of evil from stopping us in the path of righteousness. Bolstered by the recent appearance of Thoth, I broke out in a run. The centaur grabbed me before I could make it out of the line of trees. We then indulged the asinine desire of the group to talk to her, even though she was totally off-putting. She disappeared, obviously, and we started to head off toward the manor anyway. The warlock, Tyvernos, really needs a lesson in group management.

We got to the manor wall, and noticed creatures looking at us from across the clearing. Right from where Fala disappeared. I focus on them and realize they are Shedim, avian demons. The group was faced with a decision to fight, enter through the window, or find the door. We were just sitting there, wasting time, so I tried to get us all on the same page. Having been Captain of the Guard since I was so young, I have a need for discipline and order, and want to get things done as succinctly as possible. I tried to get the group to finally decide when the leader, Tyvernos, took some initiative and slid through the wall. Finally.

So the Dwarf was the first through the window, and Alric cleared the glass so that the rest of us, even our Centaur friend could make it in securely. We barred the windows with the table we saw through the window, and were thrown into complete darkness. Luckily I have the Pike of Retribution. I thank Isis every day for that gift. The yellow glow it has shed a little amount of light on my surroundings, about as much as would a candle.

We went through the door and walked out into a hallway, also dark. We checked left, and saw the front door down a bend in the hall. We went to open the door directly in front of the dining room, and found a deserted room, in shambles with strange footprints in the dust. One of our crew discovered a secret door that appeared to have strange symbols on it. Tyvernos, who had disappeared, checked it out and determined that they are just sentry wards, for silent alarm. We risked it and broke through to Fala’s bedroom. Apparently she’d been living here in the mansion. Karma took out the Finger of Osiris, and tried to use it to find the Ribs. It was giving some very strange directions, so Tyvernos decided to take it and fly to where it pointed. He disappeared without another word. In the meantime, we searched the remnants of the nearly-forgotten bedchamber, and noticed a warded drawer in the desk. Karma and I prepare to open it when I hear Overkill’s swords hit the floor.

Years of military training set my hair on end. I ran through the door, and who is there? None other than the creepy ‘Elf’ (if she really is one) holding Overkill, at arrow point. I could feel the tension in the room. We chased her off, and returned to her desk. Just as we had cleared the room, and were preparing to open the drawer, we heard a blood-curdling scream come from one of the rooms adjacent. We all rushed out to the hallway, ran to the end, and opened the door on the same side as the room we just exited.

We entered another decrepit, empty room with a broken chair, a ragged curtain, and a… portly elf. The fact any being would sit in the dark baffles me and sets me on edge. The light is where we come from, so the Light is where I will be; so the fact he’s sitting alone in a room is odd, no matter his excuses.

A being burst through the door just as the elf told us there’s an evil mage in the basement! Speak of the devil, and he will come. So I set to proving it truly was Tyvernos in his ‘bennubriousness.’ I offend him, but no one noticed, since Tyv noticed the finger pointing to the elf, and he blurted the name Osiris. The creepy elf threw off his cloak and showed his true self; a Necromancer. Clothed in pieces of Dragons and Gods, he was truly a foe worthy of my steel.

As the battle began, I noticed Alric fiddling with a scroll of some sort. I knelt in place and offered a prayer to Isis to guide my hand, as we were about to enter into mortal combat. As I stood back up, a silvery heart materialized over Alric’s head. The skeletons disintegrated almost immediately, so only a god’s heart could that be. Bolstered by the presence of Godly retribution, I dodged between friend and foe, and headed for Chandar, the necromancer. I struck over my little buddy’s head, and threw a saving parry past him, burying my pike in the ground in front of him. I whispered with serious effort “Fly, you fool” though I don’t think he heard it. He did get out of the way, though… Just in time for the Centaur to block my path back to my Pike. She landed a hearty blow. I asked her to move so that I could get my pike back, and I was back in action, attacking the only enemy I could really make out in the room. Chandar riposted my final blow, and struck me in a chink in my armor. Near death, I hastened outside the door into the hall, letting the physically fit land the killing blows.

I heard a whoop of joy, and Alric ducked out the door. He made a series of complicated hand signals, which I can only assume Tyvernos understood, as he started running toward us from the hole he had crawled into. (Later I found out He had been crippling Chandar from a distance, though I still believe it was just his weak heart.) We all went back into the room, to rest and recover, and I noticed Cava near-death, (which I later found out he had in fact passed, and was revived by Alric) wearing the Ribs of Osiris. Overkill was nursing some grievous wounds as well, and Gavin was being coddled by his nursemaid – err… his wife? Looking at this group of heroes, for the third time today on the cusp of destruction, I offered a death-bed prayer to my Goddess, Isis, and a plea as well to Thoth. I asked that my friends be protected, healed, and be victorious in their endeavor. I asked that, if need be, she takes me to her bosom as payment. We shall see what she does, and if we can truly escape this manor with our lives, much less the useless dragon’s diamond.

“Carry on my wayward son; There’ll be peace when you are done; Lay your weary head to rest; Don’t you cry no more”

Written on the 11th of Thoth by the servant of Isis, Raf Innisfahl.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Log from the 9/1/12 game, by Gavin the Mind Mage:

We were still waiting in the mansion tired after that last bout. I moved a couch in front of the door while we rested. It seemed like a decent choke point for a strategic stand. I didn’t get to be a leader in my homeland for nothing after all. So as we waited we sat for a few moments as Morgan worked on healing our wounded. I noticed a magic dresser in the room and was quite curious, but then I was reminded of the night that Cava paid a visit to my room with that cursed pendant. As we sat there we heard some noise outside the door. Karma decided to open the door. I was puzzled by the logic of this, but as the common joke goes you have to ask “Who’s there?”. So we were greeted by the response of a bunch of nasty demons. Battle ensued and we encountered many fierce demons including but not limited to a massive gallu demon. With cooperation we took it down quite quickly and I may have had to trap it in a force field to control it for a short while, but other than that we came out alive but a lot more worse for wear. After this Tyvernos was no where to be found. Its just like him to wander off. At this time Cava, Alric, and I snuck downstairs to check out the basement. We were sneaking fine, but then I tripped. It was quite noisy. So maybe it wasn’t a trip, maybe I did want to fight some more-what can I say Ra would be proud. A giant demon maggot appeared from a room after the noise reached its sensory nodes or whatever it may have and it fought with much ferocity. We came out alive, but this was with the help of others as it emerged into the hallway where everyone was. Tyvernos reappeared and Cava and Alric questioned his disappearance. If he disappeared that was his choice, I am sure he had good reason. He may have been getting intelligence. After this was done we headed out of the mansion to rest up. This place would not make do. We were heading north when we noticed the sound of a familiar demon frolicking around the woods around the mansion. It may be best to head south we thought, so we did, and to our surprise it was not patrolled by demons. We had a restful night and were ready to head back into the mansion. When we entered the mansion we decided to look through some of those magical dressers. After finding nothing we were approached by the crying woman we had met earlier. She claimed we had stolen her blue diamond lost by her lover. We tried to consul her and tell her we had not, but it was to no avail. So in proper fashion we headed down to face the evil known as the Baal-Rog and the foul wizard. As we headed down we found another magical item, this one a box. Tyvernos decided to open the box and many of us backed away except for Karma and Alric who felt the full brunt of the magical effects launched from the dresser. Tyvernos was the only one of the three who made it out unaffected. The other two laid unconscious on the floor. We decided to explore the adjacent chamber. To my excitement it was the one with the friendly Baal-Rog. He was accompanied with two magic users, a woman and a man, and a bunch of skeletons. There were also some circles on the floor. My first action was to pick up the skeletons with my mind and throw them against the wall. This proved to be super effective. However a magic net was tossed on myself and Morgan. It was if they were saying we shall not pass. I was distracted with this net most of the battle as my companions made quick work of the Baal-Rog. After him several focused on some re-summoned skeletons and Raf focused on the Illinar. He did a good job until he died. That was the point which Raf seemed to slack off a bit. I mean come on. With the site of the battle turning against them, the female teleported away. The skeletons disappeared and the male magician was killed by myself at the end. We survived! We looked around the room. There were several magical circles still on the ground, but the one that Raf’s body was in was destroyed. I walked over to Raf as I saw Morgan begin to tear up and I decided to use my scroll given by the gods to me. I brought Raf back to life. I did not get much of a response from him. I hope he is happy that I took him back from the afterlife. At this I saw that Tyvernos was walking towards the still active magic circle. This was the largest one. I saw his scepter almost shoot out of his hands and hit the floor. This was strange to me. It was like he was pulled to it. I must interfere. I grabbed him with my mind and pulled him back to us. I think he may be possessed by something. It may have something to do with that headdress that he’s been wearing. He has been acting strangely ever since he put it on. He seems to be more chaotic than ever before. His state seems to be deteriorating quite rapidly. I need to get into his mind, but I am afraid that it might get into my mind. I must find a way to convince the group that an intervention is needed. Soon! For now I watch him closely.

Posted by Gavin on the 12th of Thoth in the 9th Year of King Gedro.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Log from the 9/15 game, by the newest addition, the Danzi Warrior Drauka

I was lying in bed, rereading a few of the more entertaining portions of The Second Book of CrIsis, when I was sent a message. ‘Get ready, it is time.’ Was all I heard… or at least I thought I heard?

There have been several times when I have been alone and I have been contacted. It’s like someone whispering in my ear, though it is louder, and there is no sense of breath passing by me, but it’s also so different; the contact evokes a strange… sensation? It’s almost like feeling the words forming inside my head, and is as close to taste as it is to hearing. I have run into the phenomenon only while I was among humans, and even then rarely. It is very odd, living till almost middle age, and not be familiar with a part of you.

And I ramble. I always was a rambler. I couldn’t tell a story well to save my life; that was Raq’el’s forte.

So I received the call. I stood up, and grabbed my pack. I was walking over to the desk to pick up my brand new Flamberge, when I felt a wrenching in my gut, the feeling an inexperienced climber feels when looking down from the treetops, vertigo, and felt my arms loose their weight. A moment later, before my eyes adjusted, I felt the firm reassurance of the earth beneath my feet, a smooth but still noticeably earth-hewn stone. I looked around me, and I was on a raised stage laid before a strange looking temple. I see two ‘gods,’; Horus, the giant sphinx of a being that I met before, my debtor, and a strange bird-headed being towering over us. And then I saw that there was an ‘us,’ a great many ‘us,’ in fact. Karma, Overkill, and Cava were standing near me, easily recognized by those who have read The Books; and several others were there that I did not recognize.

Horus transformed back into a man, and started to ascend to the heavens, taking two elves with him. I straightened, and gave the warrior’s salute as he disappeared through the clouds. I saw in his face the expression of one headed into battle. Then, there was a second sun, brought by Horus, and there was much rejoicing.

At that point, CrIsis started to debate where to go next. There were several good suggestions, and reasons, but after it all, we decided that to capture Tyvernos, who last I heard was a happy-go-lucky, eccentric gnome, friend and member of CrIsis. The suggestion came from Gavin, the changeling mage, to summon him using his True Name, and that Greminor, Alchemist extraordinaire, would be able to cast the spell. We tell Thoth that our destination is Avramstown.

My muscles screamed in protest as I prepared myself for weightless travel, of which I had just been subjected to, and instead felt a searing hot wave blast through me. It didn’t linger, acting more like a ripple in a pond, or a swift breeze passing through the trees. I heard gasps around me, and looked around to see the rest of my group staring up into the skies.

I lifted my head and saw a bright red sun rising. A fire started itself in my chest, and pushed out my Zan’Goria temporarily. It spread through my limbs and I felt ready to spring into action. I knew I had to do something, kill someone, rescue something, but it was like I was trying to aim at smoke, or a watery reflection of my true target. For the second time in as many minutes, my muscles screamed protestation, demanding to be released like a bow strung tight and then thrown onto the ground, unused.

Luckily I didn’t have to wait too long. Thoth transported us to the throne room in Avramstown. These ‘gods’ really have an interesting idea of propriety, don’t they? Just throw people from here to there, no warning, or announcement.

>>At this point I would like to point out that Drauka has been verbally rebuked for his blatant insubordinate behavior and remarks. It is not prudent to take his position in regard to the pillars and protectors of the universe.<<

The shock showed in the court’s faces, we were not expected. A flaming goddess of a being was the first to regain her composure. She approached us, and to my surprise she greeted me by name. The King, Anderson Avramson – the worst first name I have heard yet, of course humans seem to be very unimaginative where names are involved; every name is unique in Danzi culture – got up and greeted us warmly. He seemed truly delighted to see CrIsis again. We told him our plight, and he told us we were free to do as we needed, that the entirety of his kingdom was at our disposal, but not until after we had given him the pleasure of dining with him.

We had a great meal with our host. Roasted birds, basted boar, broiled fruits were brought course after succulent course. The smells were enough by themselves nearly to slague my hunger, even in the same instant that they fed it’s impossible need. Even the baked flora and vegetation, which should never be required eating for warriors, were unmatched in my one hundred and nine years, and believe me, I have hosted more feasts in my village than I have years.

After eating we were in no shape to wage war, no matter the size of the army, so the King offered a different sort of encounter for the members of CrIsis. Being such a short time after the passing of my sweet Raq’el, I was in no mood for any sort of companionship.

That morning, we got ready to catch Tyvernos, and went to Greminore’s Alchemy shop. Upon entering, the first three of our group to pass the threshold were assaulted by unseen forces. Overkill started croaking like a toad, Cava danced uncontrollably, and Gavin lost control of his form.

‘Oh, I am glad you’re here, glad to see you! I am sorry for the defenses, one cannot be too careful, of course!’ we heard from the shadows of the shop.

‘I told you to think with your mind, not your feelings.’ another one of those fiery beings scolded him. The group enters the shop, which magically expanded to accomodate the Rahu-Man who was there with us, Runeslinger.

We positioned ourselves for the fight, and waited as Greminor summoned a Baal-rog from the back of the shop to aid us in our fight. We told him that we planned on summoning, and if need be, killing, Tyvernos. At hearing that, the aged alchemist changed direction.

I felt a magic shield wumpf into place, as he demanded we prove who we really were. Desperately, the group tried to convince Greminor of our identities. As they tried to convey their sincerity, I took a deep breath and prepared myself. I have done this countless times in my time dealing with strangers, but it always comes at a price.
I touched the teardrop sheathing my hand, and pushed my will through my fingers into the lines and curves of the tattoo. Immediately I felt my blood congeal and my knees lock. I said to Greminor, ’ I assure you, we are friends, and mean to only do the Gods’ will. Take my hand, so I can show you.’ I took Greminore by the hand. The glow eminating from my tatoo seeped into the ancient elf’s hand, and I felt, more than saw, the glow run up his arm, climb his neck, and reside in his eyes. I felt the contact with him solidify into a steely rod. All of our hopes, needs, dreams and fears transmitted instantly in the most intimate way into Greminore’s mind. I could feel his hand shake, and I broke the contact.


‘Well, yes. I guess.. Yes. I… That’s it, then.’ Greminore stuttered. He told us to get ready, and we prepared ourselves for battle. Tyvernos appeared next to Gavin, almost as if he were always there. We sprang into action, all diving in to grab him. I drew my weapon as I ran forward, and got as close as I could to Tyvernos.

Twice in a short amount of time is not suggested, for Kratos to be used, but need dictates action. I touched the tattoo again, and my knees shook. I grabbed Tyvernos’ shoulder. One of the mages dispelled the headdress, and the gnome dropped out of it.

Tyvernos looked around at us, as if awaking from a dream. He worked at trying to apologize. He ran to Otto, looked him in the eye and cried, ‘I knew you would forgive me, old friend.’ ‘Alright, who’s this big motha effer?’ he said, looking at the Rahu-man.

Runeslinger says, ‘diminutive one, your station was unsure, and even though they were large, I tried to fill your shoes.’ Tyvernos looked at the rest of us, and exclaimed, ‘I just had this crazy experience. You guys should try that hat on, it’s awesome’ Greminor chortles, ‘I think not.’ Tyvernos sighs, ‘I thank you for your patience and I cannot take back my actions, but I can apologize, and know that the bonds through friendship are stronger than an ancient rune headdress’ corruption!’

I looked at him apprehensively. This won’t end well.

>>As written by Drauka, in the language of Danzi, translated by Thoth. The second log of Drauka, Mercenary Danzi Warrior, Written on Thoth 13 in his 110th year.<<
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Tyberius
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by Tyberius »

I'm going through your game and trying to pick out the Danzi parts. i just rolled up a Danzi Druid and there is very little info out there about them, and I like seeing other people's take on things, and incorporating what I like.

solid work in general.
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zyanitevp
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

Tyberius wrote:I'm going through your game and trying to pick out the Danzi parts. i just rolled up a Danzi Druid and there is very little info out there about them, and I like seeing other people's take on things, and incorporating what I like.

solid work in general.


Thanks! Here is a bonus log from the Danzi Drauka, from the email session we did to cover the 4 1/2 months the party was in Avramstown. Warning- he is really wordy.... Please feel free to PM me with questions on how we play the Danzi.

I sit here at the writing desk in my lavish accommodations provided me by the King, going over my notes I had written in my journal and reminiscing of the past four months; so different from my time cooped up in Sweet Creek. There, it was more like a prison than a refuge. I couldn’t venture too far outside the city walls lest I run into scouting parties from my village, and the town was so small I could walk from one end to the other in a matter of an hour on market day. The people were friendly, of course, and I did get to be around Sharic. I am just too much like my companion, Peri. Since the passing of anything that made my life matter, I can’t be locked in a cage. Oh that I could fly! The world would be my home; forest trees my roof; flowered plains my bed; and of course, kings’ tables my kitchen.

Ah, the feasting I have done these past months! It started with that first night, in King Avramson’s hall. Of course that was a mere appetizer for the Festival of Thoth.

Of Feasting

The Festival of Thoth was a week after the battle with the Bennubriate. I had spent the week walking the town, getting to know the lay of the streets, houses, and armaments. I woke up every day at daybreak to run the perimeter of the town, and race Peri. The poor falcon was outpaced regularly… till he would cheat and dive at me, forcing me to side-step or even roll out of the way. After a circuit I walked the streets, waiting for the world to wake up. There’s nothing in this world that compares to a fresh breakfast after a morning jog. I enjoyed sampling the different sights, smells and flavors that littered the streets when the market opens up.

One taste in particular caught my attention. They call it a Peach. Northern Peaches to be exact. I was wary when I bought my first one, as it felt like a sleeping groundhog pup. My entourage (see ‘Of Fame’ below) wouldn’t let me back down, coaxing me to eat it. I held it up to my mouth, its sweet scent making my mouth water in anticipation. I bit into the furry skin, and was surprised that it was not tough like flesh. Succulent fibers released even more aromas into the air, and I took the Peach from my mouth as I chewed the part taken from it. The sweet, smooth tang of the juice played along my tongue, and the meat, of it firm yet tender, fighting my teeth’s onslaught. I took out my knife, and took off the skin for my next bite. Juices sluiced down the blade and over my fingers as I brought it to my lips. The seed was larger than most seeds in the fruits from home, and there was only one. I have had one every day since.

The day of the Festival came finally; the 21st of Thoth. The day started with trumpeteers announcing the rising of the sun; the posts throughout the town flew banners displaying Thoth’s Eye, his symbol. The town was alive with spectacles on every corner. Jugglers, bards, dancers, festive food peddlers and the like assaulted the senses of passersby, of which there were many more on the streets due to the holiday. There were events all around town, but principally in the colosseum. It amazed me that a place of festival and show would also be a place the soldiers trained for war. ‘They must not participate in real battle, just for show,’ I thought to myself as I wove my way through the throng toward the King’s Box.

It was about noon when we were invited to enter the colosseum. At that point the royal master chef brought out the first course. Cold mead and garlick flatbread. He brought out iced peach cider for the children, so I grabbed a few of those for myself. The bread was fantastic, though I felt my stomach throw a backflip with the smell of rotten fruit. Alchohol has always repulsed me.

Course after course we were waited on. So much came in front of my face that I could scarcely taste everything before it was whisked away for some new succulence. It seemed that every nation taking residence in the kingdom was represented with their most famous recipes. I heard squeals of joy and exclamations of ‘Oh, they definitely did these ricecakes justice!!’ and so on coming from the different ambassadorial groups seated around the Box.

We sat back and relaxed as the day wore down like a birthday candle – bright with joy and savoring every last inch. By the time the moon rose, most of the children about the fairground were dropping into happiness-comas,

Ah, and as I write this, a bard is singing of the night’s events.

I tried to write every word from every verse, but there were some doggedly fast parts I couldn’t keep up with; Danzi is a very drawn out version of Faerie. So here’s his story, basically.

‘ ‘ Greminor Lector, the alchemist, and some heavily robed assistants, with help from Gavin, Tyvernos, Morgan, and Ferrel, brought out a statue some 40’ tall. The statue was then left in the center of the coliseum, as nightfall had arrived… but Greminor, in a voice that was said to be both powerful and right next to each attendee, said clearly, ‘Behold!’
The statue of Thoth then came alive! Golden daylight spread about it, and lightning erupted from its eyes, hands, and feet. A calming music came out of its mouth, and it is said that all that attended were healed of cuts, bruises, and even broken bones. Then it inspired all to rise, as it lifted up off the floor of the coliseum!! It summoned a great sword, that of Eledor! In a voice that shook the stadium it bellowed, ‘Believe in the Light, and you shall be rewarded.’ All who saw it will verify that I have spoken truthfully, with no embellishments!’ ‘

Well that was the most basic description of the events, but I remember it with caged birds and phoenixi and baal-rogs. Well maybe not, but when something is done so well that people remember it being grander than it was, it was grander than their minds can form words to describe it; and the statue was definitely grand.

I finally got a hold of Greminor, (see ‘Of Greminor’ below) though he spoke to me only in passing. I set up a day almost at the end of our stay in Avramstown to meet with him. I realized, reading the Books of CrIsis, that I needed certain items that hadn’t been awarded me by my debtor. (replaced in all published versions to ‘God’ or ‘Horus’)

Well, as I had been trying to meet with Greminor all week, and not scheduling myself in case he had a short window of availability, I started to think of what I wanted to do with three and a half more months in the city. Being able to run the city’s walls and watch the comings and goings of the guards made me miss being on the field of war, so I decided to see what I could do to for the Royal Armed Forces of Havea.

Of Fighting

The day after the festival, as I was probably the only one within travel distance that didn’t have a hangover, I had a little bit of fun. It started with some good-natured ribbing toward our gracious host, Anderson. I arrived in his chambers at the beginning of the second watch, and greeted him warmly. Possibly a little too loudly; though anything not whispered the day after a party is usually thought of as too loud. I asked if I would be able to train, and compete with, the best of his best fighters.

‘Of course, of course. But not today, definitely not today; much to early today; and too bright. Tomorrow; you can go to the colosseum tomorrow and search out Lord Tinor. He’ll get you set up. Chamber boy, fetch me a seal!’ ‘As you wish,’ the child at the door ran through the door, and returned a short time later with a sheaf of paper, quill, ink, seal wax and a candle. I watched interested as the king penned a quick note of recommendation, sealed it with melted wax, and pressed a wooden stamp into the deep red puddle. ‘Lord Tinor will be very easy to spot, he’ll be the biggest, most intimidating soldier on the field.’

Biggest, meanest and ugliest! I got to the colosseum the following day, and saw him easily from across the field; a beast of a wolf, and I groaned audibly when I caught sight of him. I don’t hate wolfen, unlike most Danzi, but generations of warring ancestors and a prejudiced culture are a hard thing to shake. The best that I can say is that I hate the stereotype of the Wolfen; dumb, vicious, ruthless, and Danzi-killers. Any wolfen that reinforces that stereotype and embodies it, I loathe. I have met one or two that I don’t mind.

Lord Tinor howled over the field ‘Oooooh, NEW BLOOD!’ The training soldiers about the field turned to look. Just like the rest of the town, the armed forces are a mixture of just about every ‘handsome’ race on palladium, though a vast majority of them canines. I reached him, and handed him the seal I procured the day before. ‘Oh. CrIsis member. Well you can have fun playing war, the field is yours.’ With notable disdain he smiled, stretching the scar lining his face from his temple to his Adam’s apple.

‘I wish to prove myself.’

‘You think you’re strong, do you?’

‘I may not be tougher than the toughest, but I am quicker than the quickest.’

‘TINY!’ Tinor called to his ranks, as a sizeable group had gathered around the pair. A gnome bounced through the group’s legs.

‘Yes, Lord Tinor??’ exuberantly asked as he looked expectantly up at the wolf.

‘This one seems to think he’s fast. Gather round everyone, we have a challenge for fastest!!’ and a fighting circle was formed around us. Tinor added to me as he handed over a practice sword,

‘You do mean fighting speed, right?’

‘Any sort of speed, and I am your man.’ I answered, though I had running speed in mind. How fast could this little butterball be, after all? I thought to myself.

‘Best of three points wins! Here’s your referee!’ the gravelly growl came from Tinor.
A dwarven warrior came up to us, and got us ready. ‘What are you, some sort of troll?’

‘No, I am a Danzi.’ With a deafening silence filled with a dying wind of two or three whispers I was crushed. Were these warriors so familiar with the Danzi that they knew the answer before I answered? No. It had to be the opposite. My people were so far gone that no one even recognized the name. The dwarf’s answer confirmed my fears.

‘You can’t be. They’re all dead!’ he gasped.

‘Far from dead, our cunning has kept us safe from the world’s wars.’ I replied.

Interest in the confrontation quickly wavering, the dwarf spat out, ’We’ll talk about this later, let’s get the battle going before we have a riot.’ He scurried off to the edge and called us to our marks.

‘Go!’

Not waiting for his echo to get back to me, I flashed the blade to the diminutive shoulder of my opponent. He looked up at me, almost imperceptibly startled for a moment, with a playful bloodlust dripping from his eyes, and a grin flashed as the shocked cheers from the crowd finally let loose.

‘Point, Drauka!’

Emboldened by the cheers, I set myself for the next swing. ‘Go!’ My swing was an empty disappointment when I let it soar. Before it got even close to the gnome I knew it wouldn’t fly true. Luckily I had enough time to dodge his thrust.

‘Miss! It’s still one strike to none.’

I shook my foot, as dodging his strike I pulled a nerve in my thigh, and planted it for the next round. I white-knuckled the sword’s hilt, and set my jaw. ‘GO!’ I threw an under-swing at him, and I thought I had him, but he jumped over my sword, and landed a blow on my shoulder as he soared over my head; quite the little frog, that one.

‘HIT! One to one!’

I whipped my self around, and got into a battle-stance better suited for killing shorter opponents. Well I didn’t want to kill him, but a strike is a strike. ‘GO!’ I threw my force into a slash to his kidney, but his strike came from nowhere and hit my behind.

‘HIT AGAIN! TINY WINS!’ the dwarf roared over the cheering soldiers. Being able to best one of CrIsis was no small feat, and the gnome would no doubt have fame attached to his speed among his comrades, though I think he already did.

‘This one’s good, Lord Tinor!’ The gnome said through the congratulatory back slaps and compliments.

‘So he is,’ Tinor said contemplatively as he stroked his chin furs.

‘Lord Tinor,’ I said, offering proper respect to his office.

‘Tinor, please, it makes the little ones feel better to say the title, but there’s no need for a warrior such as you to use it,’ a chuckle rising from his chest.

‘Yes, L… Tinor. I have been cooped up for so long, I need something to do, and I have missed the Hunting Parties of my Shabet. I am at your service.’

From that day on, I went on missions with the soldiers. There were several that I grew fond of, but none as much as the General. Few have I run into truly understand my unique lust for conflict, much less share it, and Tinor does; truly. It isn’t the shedding of blood that slagues my lust during a battle, it’s knowing that I have removed an arrow pointed at the head of peace and serenity. One set of claws, one sword, one mage; One less on the field, and one less that can hurt those I care for. I have always felt this way, but ever since… my exile.. it has been nearly insatiable. There have been days it has almost blinded me.

Throughout my service to the King, I got to fight alongside Tinor. There have been many times that his feats awed me. He told me he felt the same, but there was an occasion that he cleaved a beast in two. One blow! Of course he was amazed to see how I interact with Peri and how I would be seemingly in two places at once, of course I will never tell him my secrets.

I had scoffed that every member of CrIsis will end up living in an elder’s leito, or nursebed, in Avramstown. With chagrin I catch myself planning futures here, starting an elite group of scouts, acting as a much needed liaison between Wolfen and Danzi. Of course, I would have to be accepted back into the family. I don’t see that happening, unfortunately, as I am now thick with deities. There’s no harm in dreaming, though. From the army’s side, though, it wouldn’t be that big a transition. They all respected me as one of their scouts, and they loved to try to race me on their steeds. You’d think they would give up after the first five losses.

Word spread through the town, as it’s impossible to keep secrets secret where drunk soldiers are involved, so any story of normal grandeur grows one hundred fold and spread freely.

Of Fame (or Infamy)

From the moment I appeared in the King’s chamber I was something of a novelty. I enjoyed it, as I had never truly thought of Danzi as rare, and I am proud to represent the race. I didn’t get nearly as much awe and praise as the rest of CrIsis, but that is understandable. It was more a childish curiosity that followed me around, and not just from the young. When I look into peoples’ eyes I see the fear and repulsion, as the Danzi face is more feral than human, but they still gather round and follow me. These few months in the manor, I still get stares from the staff. Last week, there was a poor little willow of a man, nearly decrepit with age, carrying a mountainous stack of papers and scrolls that caught a glimpse of me; in his state of rush and stress he squeaked with surprise, and a storm of papers filled the air.

‘Oh! Oh no no no no no. I must be off. It’s all out of order. No! He’ll be furious.’ Having caught his breath, he started to pick up his papers all around the floor. ‘You need to stop sneaking up on people with a face like that! You can kill people of fright, you know! ……….. Oh, my apologies! You’re a member of CrIsis; your forgiveness, sir?’ he rambled on without a pause in picking up the papers.

‘Of course, my name is Drauka, and I have only been a member for a few months.’ I offered as I helped him pick up his cargo.

Walking around town, I attracted a group of children. Like bees around a flower, there was no where I went that they did not follow, as long as I was within city limits. The first week it was the worst. There were at least twenty children, following from a short distance, whispering in a language I didn’t recognize or understand; Eastern wasn’t spoken anywhere around my Shabet or Sweet Creek. They would run up, jabber for a second, look at me expectantly, and when I didn’t respond, they would scurry back to the safety of the huddle. One of the children, an elf, figured out that I speak Elven, and there was no end to the questions; but at least they weren’t as afraid of me.

From that point on, they would ask me all sorts of questions, from ‘Why is your hair pink??’ to ‘What’re those tattoos for?’ to ‘Do something with your falcon!!’ When I would try some new fruit, they would all add their input, only some of which I truly understood. They all wanted to race me, to prove they were fast, and that they were going to grow up to be great warriors and heroes for Havea. I love children; they are the embodiment of a generation’s hope, and for anyone that pays attention, they inspire that hope and lust for life.

As the months wore on, the group of children shrunk to a handful, as the novelty wore off, but adults started to follow, mainly due to the soldiers’ drunken boasting. I was surprised to find that a group of women, and not just the service women, were very intrigued by my loincloth, or rather very irritated by it. I understand the primal desire that most can’t resist; it mixes with despair when I think of my Raq’el. But I have never felt that way toward any one before or after her.

It was interesting to see the stark difference between my popularity and Gavin’s fame, though. Instead of curiosity, it was awe, almost to desperation. He’s the only one out of the group that I have had any contact with outside the monthly feasts with the King. We met up in the month of Kym-nak-mar to visit the Pyramid of Osiris.

Of Gods

Gavin and I wove our way through the streets to the Temple. When we got there, the guards bowed to Gavin, barely making notice of me. It was nice getting away from the thronging worshipers. As we stepped through the temple doors, a priestess came up to us, and greeted Gavin warmly. She asked who I was, and if I wanted to worship at the Pyramid.

‘Drauka, and yes, of course I would.’ She ushered us through another set of doors leading on to a long set of stairs.

‘You must say 100 of the names of Isis in unison as you ascend the stairs. You must do it perfectly, or the wrath of the Gods will befall you, principally her highness, Isis. The first and foremost is…’ the Priestess rattled off the One Hundred names for us to recite. I am surprised I didn’t die a gruesome death for not remembering them. The gods are, after all, very self-interested.

We reached the top, and were faced with a small temple. As we walked through the doors and down the main hall, I noticed there were several statues on pedestals lining it. I recognized Horus and Thoth, so I assumed that they were of all the ‘Gods.’ Most of them seemed fairly worn, though well kept, except one. Looking at the nameplate I read ‘Bast’ I asked the Priestess leading us, but she shushed me before the question had left my lips.

We reached a bathing pool, and Gavin removed the robe he was wearing; white with his name embroidered on the back, and the symbol for CrIsis on the breast. Following suit, I remove my loincloth, and set it on the side of the pool. Entering the pool, I notice that the water had magical properties. It was cool, but not chilly; any aches and pains from battle wounds subsided, and for a moment I couldn’t feel the scar on my chest. It was as if I were weightless, without feeling or worry.

A new priestess had walked up with fresh white robes for us to wear. Why we need to wear robes is beyond me. If these gods truly were our forbearers, no matter of fabrication would be as pure and clean as our perfect flesh. When Danzi meet with their ancestors, there is no worrying about clothing, restrictions, walls, or deceit; naked, both figuratively and literally. Surely these beings that think themselves so important and powerful would feel the same?

Having slipped into the restrictive white robes, I looked toward Gavin. He and the priestess were walking down a hallway apart from which we came. I notice a portal, and I can feel the magic of it; very strong. We reached the threshold, and Gavin just walked through without hesitation. I entered behind him.

We found ourselves on a dune in the middle of a desert. The sand beneath my bare feet was warm, but not hot. Looking around, I appreciated the clear blue sky, it was a beautiful sight; the deep blue directly above, and light blue at the horizon. Directly in front of us was a great pyramid, and at its peak a shaft of blue light barely visible against the blue sky backdrop. It appeared more than ten miles away when we started walking, but we reached it after a very short walk.

We climbed the passageway, and came upon a room with a tongue at the center, suspended in the same blue light that appeared to be rising from the peak. In the room with us were huge lion-faced beings in white robes. They usher us through a huge set of golden doors. As we passed into the room, I feel a deep sense of peace. I notice the absence of sound, though it isn’t a restrictive absence, it’s freeing. For the second time that day, I felt weightless.

The Ramen walked me over to an open area on the floor, and motioned for me to sit down. He sat down in an awkward position, the ‘Lotus’ position, and I clumsily mimicked him. He spoke, and I nearly jumped from my skin; it made the silence seem even more omnipresent. He said ‘We shall meditate, let me show you how.’ He extended his hand toward my forehead, not breaking eye contact with me. His palm rested on my head, and I felt myself surge upward, though when I looked down, I saw myself, still in the lotus position, with the feline hand on my face. I tried to move forward, to get a better look, and I was yanked back into my body.

I blinked my eyes open, and the Ramen said ‘Now that you know what needs to be done, you can start learning for yourself. Concentrate and clear mind; you can do it.’ He started to give me instruction, and I tried to follow. After a very long time of trying, I found I was able to reliably get into the meditative state, but whenever I tried to move, I was still unable to. I noticed Gavin was meditating the entire time, with no problems. ‘Don’t worry, you aren’t expected to run the first time you walk.’

‘Thanks, I guess.’ I proceeded to ask the Ramen why a creature as fierce-looking as he was stuck as a caretaker to a tongue. I explained that I love being able to fight for my cause. He replied that he too loves to fight, but service in the temple is required of every Ramen. After a year of clerigical service another of his brethren would replace him, and he would be able to return to the battle field.

He left Gavin and I to ourselves, having served his purpose as teacher. No sooner had the door shut than a god appeared in the room beside us. No announcement… again. Gavin immediately disrobed, and fell prone. I left my robe on, and did the same. After a second facing the floor, I looked back up to him.

‘Arise.’ Horus said. Lifting my head, I notice several very gruesome wounds. Looking at him closer, I can see he’s been on the battlefield. Gavin offered ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’ Horus shook his head and said, ‘No, I just need to meditate for the month. I will not respond if I am prayed to. I decided to seek Drauka out before I retreated, though, as he was never given a proper sending away. Gavin, please wait outside.’

Gavin closed the golden doors behind him, and it was just me and Him.

‘Drauka, I am proud to have you as a servant, and that you were chosen for CrIsis. Revenge tastes sweet, but has a bitter aftertaste. But as such, give full force, and no forgiveness. I have had the pride of serving by Ra’s side in this war, and he has taught me there is a time for forgiveness, and there is a time for none. Is there anything that you wish to ask of me?

‘It is good to see that you have a warrior’s spirit. I would like to know how you have kept up your side of our bargain.’ I asked

‘Don’t speak of our dealings to anyone save the members of CrIsis alone. It is secret. Your writings will be edited by the gods before they are sent to Rod Rambler, so don’t censure those.’

‘Your village is safe and well, though I haven’t gotten an update since I returned from war, so if you would excuse me.’ His face twisted in concentration. Moments later he said, ‘It appears that they are, as we speak, having a joined Clan Mote. The E’dehko clan shamans felt that they needed to join their Mote with your shabet in light of the events recently plaguing their clan and the region.’

‘It makes me happy to know that you have kept your end, though having a joined Clan Mote… I never thought something like that would happen in my lifetime. It seems this war is reaching even the godless.’

‘Anything else you wish to ask?’

‘Yes, what does the second sun mean? I was told that it was you that made it rise,’ Irritation flashing only momentarily across his face.

‘Yes, the Second Sun is something I have capability to do to inspire others. I did it for Raf’s coronation, and for you joining CrIsis, among other reasons. Be strong, and remember that all gods need Prayer, belief and wish to have their churches grow. Be well.’ Horus disappeared with those last words. He always seems to generate more questions than he answers. I do not ask the questions I fear he will not answer fully. We left the temple, rejuvenated, though confused. On my way out, I decided to donate one thousand five hundred to the church.

The rest of my stay in Avramstown passed much like the first – War in the Woods, followed by Peaches with the People. All up until the last three days of my stay. Finally, I could visit Greminor.

Of Greminor

The day after we fought Tyvernos, I wanted to go back to Greminor’s. That morning I asked around for directions to get to Greminor’s. As I was with everyone, I wasn’t positive I could get there by myself. Though, I might have been better off just going off instinct.

In Havea, the prevalent language is Eastern. I still speak practically no Eastern, though I have picked up a few words and phrases. It took me an hour to find someone who understood Elven enough to point me in the right direction. I left the manor and made my way through the packed streets. News had gotten out that CrIsis was in town, and everyone was putting out their best for us.

I made it to the Alchemist’s shop, and to my dismay it had a sign in the window that said Closed in Elven among several other languages. I turned back and decided to go running to let off steam. After a lap, I wandered the streets the rest of the day. I returned every morning before my lap the rest of that first week, but the same story. Finally I spoke with Greminor at the Festival, and we set up an appointment.

By the 27th of Od, I had done about as much as I wanted, and the only thing left was to meet with Greminor. He had intrigued me ever since I convinced him to help us. The link between people connected through the Soultouch tattoo is a unique one. I got to the shop, and I was happy to see the closed sign gone from the window.

As I walked up to the door, a worn-out Gavin and Morgan stumbled out of it. ‘Oh, hi Drauka, good to see you. We’ll see you after we pass out!’ They stumbled down the path back to the manor. I walked through the door to the shop, and I hear someone clap twice. The lights inside the store light instantly.

Sitting around a table were the phoenixi and baal-rog assistants and Greminor. On the table was a strange game by the name of Mace 100. There were little figurines strewn about a painted wooden board. It looked like a miniature war room I had seen while working with Lord Tinor. Upon seeing me, Greminor said, ‘ah, Drauka. Tim, you did remember he was coming? Get the door.’ the baal-rog grumbled as he locked the door and put up the ‘closed’ sign. ‘Have you ever played?’ He asked, motioning toward the table. I answered that I hadn’t ever seen it. ‘Terrible! Well, you must learn!’ Pleasure before business, I guess.

I learned the game, kind of; I lost rather quickly. It’s not my fault there were odd limitations added to certain units that shouldn’t have been, and others didn’t have enough limitation! After I was properly defeated, Greminor asked the phoenixi to put the game away. He jumped up and surried behind his desk. I noticed a sign behind the counter that said ‘To Greminor, the Greatest Alchemist in the World, from CrIsis.’ With a decent painting of them next to it. Near that is an odd-looking crown of banana leaves.

‘So, you said you had a proposition for me?’

‘Yes. I did. I noticed you eyeing my tattoos earlier. It was different from the normal eyeing. You want to study my them. I am here to let you, in exchange for something of equal value.’ I had thought he would be like the Shazni-Kratos, hungry for knowledge. I did not realize he would be exactly like them, jealously hoarding his knowledge and abilities. I enjoy his company, and he is a very interesting person to be around. But everyone has their flaws… well I guess it’s not so much a flaw to protect that what you feel makes you of value to yourself and others.

No sooner had I said those words as the alchemist lept across the counter. ‘Oh, amazing. Look at this here, and that there. And they do nothing when I touch them.’ I flinched back when he touched my Kratos. He waved at the bookshelf, and one of the volumes floated off. It opened itself on the table, and a quill flew over and started to write the words that were said between us.

‘Daft alchemist. You never think, do you?’ the phoenixi scolded as she crossed the room, ‘Can we get you some food, water?’

‘I will have some juice. Do you have any peach?’ Remembering the fantastic iced cider from the Festival.

‘Sure, dear.’ and it went off to get some.

Greminor continued asking questions, and I continued answering. Eventually I had told him everything I knew about the Kratos, and how they are made, which is to say nothing. Shazni-Kratos jealously guard their tattoos, and methods. When Greminor asked his final questions, he appeared downcast. After all that, I guess I didn’t really teach him anything. If he were a bard, it would have been a different story, but as he deals in magic and not happenings, it was relatively useless. He told me the monetary value of the information, and I understood just how much.

I bartered with him, some gold that I was lent by the group for a ring of See Invisible, and five potions of superior healing. He asked Tim to go and get the items from the back. ’you’d think you’d let a baal-rog crush or break something, not play fetch.’ the grumblings died off as he disappeared into the back.

‘Is that it? Nothing else? My my my….’ Greminor asked incredulously.

‘Um… no?’ Not wanting to disappoint him, I started to search for something else that I could buy.

‘What about a weapon?’ His eyes lit up.

‘Sure.’ Come to think about it, I had never really owned a weapon of high quality before.

Excited, Greminor made some strange gestures, and we found ourselves on a desert isle. What is it with these people and teleportating? Do they really hate their homeland THAT much? He ran into the little shack a short way away, and came back out with a ramshackle wooden table. He whipped out a white tablecloth, spread it over the table, and put four swords that looked like something out of children’s stories.

‘How do these differ from mine?’ I asked, partially for him, partially for me.

‘Oh, well these are of better quality. They’re good, if I do say so myself, and I did, didn’t I?’ He picked up the first sword in the row, a polished falchion. Greminor swung it with ease and ability; obviously he knows his way around swords. My father always told me that I should only trust a baker that eats his own bread. This baker is one to trust. ‘This beauty…. Oh! Silly me…’ The sword catches fire. He swung it once more and sheathed it. ‘Care to try? This one is called ’The Flamer’.’ Well I know why it hasn’t sold yet. He sheathed it, and the flame went out. I took it, and whacked the tree he indicated. He put out the tree after I had tested the balance. I laughed as I sheathed it. ‘I guess you have found your sword, then?’

‘I would like to see the rest of them, I am quite enjoying this.’

‘Oh, of course.’ Greminor put the falchion back, and picks up the next, a bastard sword. He held it up, pointed it at a tree, and let loose a clap of lightning that blows away a branch on a nearby tree. ‘It does that three times per day, and also can generate a Blinding Flash three times per day.’ Nameless, and without too much flare, at least not for me. I took it, tested it, and handed it back.

I looked at the next swor….. I mean handle. Yes, a handle without a blade. It strikes a memory. Sitting in my bed, listening to the bass rumble of my father’s voice reenacting legends. Painting scenes of great destruction and glory. One in particular, of King Rodamant, a Wolfen hero. One of his ‘famous’ swords was an invisible cutlass. It was with him with the first incursions a couple hundred years ago. I asked, ‘Is it… ’ Greminore nodded after a furtive glance around, for prying eyes and ears. As if there were someone there to hear. He handed it to me and I tested it out. I thought I had found my sword. Here, finally, a piece of history. Past glory toward future victory. It was like meeting a fairytale hero in the flesh… well it wasn’t just ‘like’. I swung it, and lovingly put it into its scabbard. I handed it back to him.

Greminor put back on the table, and looked at the final sword with apprehension, almost guarded. He pulled it from its scabbard. It almost looked like my flamberge. Almost. Except it glowed bright white. I picked it up, and everything else melted away. I could feel the power seeping from it. Not scary power. Holy power. I swung it once. Just once and I was sold. There was no island, there was no sand, trees, ocean, hut or table. Sold….. oh crap. How much.

‘How much…..’ almost not wanting to make the moment feel cheap, I couldn’t finish the thought.

‘As you’re in CrIsis, you get the discount. I will require your soul.’ I blanched, but then I realized he was joking… kind of. ‘You must call this weapon the Lector’s Revenge! If you leave CrIsis whilst alive, as I have offered this discount, you must return this to me immediately. If you leave CrIsis through death, since I have offered such an amazing discount, the sword must be returned. You must make CrIsis, since this is at such a discounted rate, SWEAR!! Swear upon their gods.’ I agreed.

We returned back to the shop.

I am done relating my ‘vacation’. It is finished. I pen these last lines and colapse into sleep, for tomorrow we go to Sinza.

>>As written by Drauka, in the language of Danzi, translated by Thoth. The second log of Drauka, Mercenary Danzi Warrior, Written on Od 27 in Drauka’s 105th year.<<
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by Tyberius »

it's interesting that a Danzi is interested in the resurrection of a God, let alone to worship in a temple. The exile must have been a harsh one, yet doesn't seem to scar him too much, just by going through the journal. But it's not about that, I guess.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

Actually been very rough on him- his bio talks about his exile, and he has been quite disrespectful to his god, Horus, and is truly struggling...
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by Tyberius »

yea, I wrote a pre bio/back story and put in Wolfen/Canine animosity. Didn't want to do exile, since we're starting at lvl 1, and at some point I was access to the Spirit Tattoos, although a GM can make it happen if they wanted to. But, didn't want to go the exile route, so I wrote up about that, and then the GM said he's adding another player who is rolling a Coyole, (we're both being added into a very early starting campaign that just got off the ground and lost a player) and doesn't want any player on player fighting, which I totally understand. So, I'm going to have to strike a balance on cannon and how the Danzi are, with group dynamics, etc. But of all possible races, a Danzi and a Coyole together, of course it happened.

One can make anything work. Looking forward to seeing how it all plays out.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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A rare log from Karma the Centaur Palladin of Thoth for the summary of the session on 9/29/12. The PCs, CrIsis, now are on their way from Bizantium seas all the way around to the Yin Sloth Jungles- will be a lot of ocean encounters for a very, very long time.

Od 29th

There is a great celebration in our honor and I am late. I have spent the day talking to Greminor, having improvements made to my shield, and now I rush to the sound of cheering crowds toward the Colosseum. I get to the guest box with the rest of CrIsis just in time to hear Gavin and Drauka begin to make bets on the 2 gladiators in the ring. Gavin speaks highly of the minotaur apparently named Beef Supreme and Drauka has praises for General Tinor. They make their bets and Overkill joins in on the fun by betting for the minotaur Beef Supreme. The battle begins, Beef trips and Gen. Tinor cuts across his back, the next strike is also in Tinor’s favor, a third strike wins him the battle and Drauka wins his bet.

Overkill leaves to go to Karowyn’s Merchant House. He picks up $148,000 Wolven gold from the sales of our books. We all get $19,028 gold for our personal use. Overkill and I get up early and run to take care of last minute needs. I went to the Pyramid of Avramstown, and was honored to speak with Apis.

We have a fireside breakfast with all the members and get to meet the new people. I
walked over and sat before Tyvernos and offered him the finger saying ‘Bennu said he had been healed
and this was to welcome him back to Crisis.’ Tyvernos turns to Cava and says before he takes the finger he wants to show his Loyalty by giving him lightning arrows and all the lighting arrows he can use. Cava uses the newly created arrow to shoot a tree branch and proves to be true. Then Tyvernos accepts the Finger of Osiris.

Cava had a great interest in Drauka as he had read about his people in a book. Drauka was surprised and fascinated that anyone knew about where he was from. It seems Cava had a book that told about them extensively. He showed the book to Drauka who held it with reverence. I could read the cover “Aurora Tristinium” I had seen it before when he got it from the Biomancer Firsar.

The rest of Crisis began to, for lack of a better word, interrogate Drauka about his past and how he came to worship Horus. It was a sad story of the loss of his family and his own death due to the odd ways of his people. No Danzi was allowed to hurt another, yet there were raids between the towns and the exiled. Such a raid lost him his family, but as he killed the raiders who killed his family he became one of the exiled. In very bad health he was sent on his way and found on the road dead by priests of Horus. He made a deal for his life and the safety of his people. Thus begins his work for the Gods and joining Crisis.

While we talked Ferrel another new member of Crisis showed his boredom by creating a boat made entirely of butter witch began to float about the room. I fear this took much of my attention while the conversations continued. Cava asked a question of Ferrel and this distraction landed the butter ship right on Tyvernos’ head. I fear I laughed but I was not the only one who was amused by the incident.

Ferrel told us what god he worshiped and I had never hear of her. Ferrel tells us Bast is a party goddess who loves wine and lust, this description does explain a lot about his character. He is a song mage and is gorgeous. His voice almost a match for his looks. Too bad he is not a centaur.

We then asked for true-names and all shared with the others. In light of what happened to Tyvernos I am fully supportive of this. Soon after King Avramson came in and offered us all honorary citizenship of Havea and we all accepted graciously. We then said our goodbyes to the King and gathered around Cava for a teleport to Sinza where our arrival is anticipated by King Bafag. Cava whispers words to the Shimring given to him by Thoth and the world disappears and reappears as a great cavern with a temple below us. The first thing I hear is a shout that echos across the expanse “Overkill!!!”. We are then quickly surrounded and I take a step back to give room to the overwhelming number of dwarves that come to see their hero and friend. I can only watch amused as they cart him off and then turn to the other Crisis members to decide what our plans are for the evening.

Ferrel wants to try the local inns for shelter and entertainment. We are promptly denied entry into the first two but Ferrel manages to charm his way into the third. Ferrel gives a wonderful performance that I greatly enjoy. Then a weird voice comes from the corner Drauka is sitting. I can only stare at the oddity but the dwarves are not amused, it did not help that his next feat was to imitate a dumb dwarf. We were pelted by bad fruit and escorted off the premises.

We decided to look in on the orphans that we brought here after our odd Island adventure. They make me think of Chip; an odd man but full of confidence rarely seen and a great swimmer.
Drauka tries his tricks again and they go over much better with the children than they did with the patrons of the bar. I myself found the voice coming from Tyvernos rear and Otto’s mouth very fun.

Our next stop was the pyramid and its progress where we ran into the old familiar faces of Laladan and Malkin. We found out that Laladan was on his way to join a battle, another evil that the Gods were fighting. So many battles on so many fronts it seems evil is everywhere and Crisis just one of many followers fighting them. I pray to Thoth for their safe journey and return. We then decide to retire for the night for tomorrow was a big day.

We are met by King Bafag first thing as we gather before the Pyramid at Sinza. He greeted us and thanked us for obeying. This riled me up as Crisis does not answer to any king, only the gods. He then had the gall to ask for the Ribs of Osiris and I gave him a resounding NO. I did not trust him and I knew he would not demand them before all to see. I then turned and gave them to Overkill to carry for the honor should be his in his own land. We started our way to the Pyramid and a strange man tried to kiss my ring I told him I was not worthy of such attention and to show his affection to the gods not I. Then Gavin recognized him as a world famous bard. He asked to join us, we were all distracted by the proceedings and told him no.

We reached the steps and began with Horoth, King Bafag, and Christine to climb saying the names of Isis as we went. King Bafags presence felt wrong I did not think be belonged in this party and I felt a sense of dread as we stepped through the portal. I was startled at the sound of lightning hitting the ground and quickly turned about. I could only shake my head as I saw the ash slowly falling to the ground where King Bafag had once stood. Then I saw a clawed foot appear where Horoth stood a moment before and I looked up and kept doing so until I found the head of the great dragon now standing in our midst. Horoth had been a dragon in disguise and newly introduced himself as Kym-nark-mar. I quickly bowed before the god and felt fear, His presence marked an ill time, for he only showed himself when the Old Ones threatened the world. The great Kym-Nark-Mar told us that the Gods of Light are behind us and our quest is important above all. That the gods themselves are at war pushing back the Gods of Dark. I have faith in their strength and power. I a paladin of light will see this to the end or to my death, for this is the calling of Crisis. Then Kym-Nark-Mar leaped into the air and disappeared.

We then made our way to the alter of Osiris where a cat-like god awaited us. Ferrel went into full worship mode and I could only guess that this was his goddess Bast. She asked for the Ribs and Overkill gives them to her. She placed them on the alter and I could not help the sigh of relief as she sealed them to the Pyramid and they hovered within the protection of the gods. She said “Perrrrfect” with oddly rolled Rs then asked us to kneel before her. After she blessed us with a papyrus wand she asked us to go, all save Ferrel that is, so we left them together.

We left the pyramid but when the King did not show chaos ensued. Then Algor appeared, and he along with Kym-Nark-Mar restored order. The power of the gods and their wisdom is shown as they call Overkill’s cousin Minischmee to be the new king. Christine his wife and high priestess is at first shocked then heartbroken for her duty and his will now keep them apart. Overkill tries to comfort her but to no avail. She goes into the temple still sobbing. Then a young women comes to us and says she is to train under Bast herself to be the new high priestess, I smile and give thanks to the gods once again for their wisdom and mercy for their servants, and so the festival of Isis began.

There was much drinking, feasting and contests most notably between our song mage Ferrel and the bard Terramore Gleba. There was much for this country to come to terms with and equality to celebrate for the dwarfs. Terramore asked us once again to join our ranks. I gave my approval on one condition that he only tell the tales that we approve of and he swore this on the god he worshiped. He agreed to my terms and the others agreed to let him come. So now we had two strutting peacocks to deal with, well at least we would not be bored.

Then we decided where our travels would lead us next. There was controversy as to whether we should keep the finger of Osiris to help us on our quest. In the end we decided on keeping it for the time. We decided to also go through Haven on our way to the Yin Sloth jungle to see how bad things really are. If it is much worse than I thought I will agree with Gavin to leave the finger there.

Before we leave we throw a birthday party for Gavin, I gift him with matching knives for him and his wife Morgan. Ferrel made a broach, Overkill got a necklace with the symbol of Ra around it, Cava brought the cake, Morgan finally gave Gavin his wedding ring and Drauka gave them matching earrings.

We set sail fully stocked and ready for the challenges ahead. Ah! The cool breeze of the open sea. I admit there is a fair chill in the air but it lets you know you are alive. In the distance we saw ships I recognized them as the Bizantium naval fleet and waved our well wishes as they passed by. Then the weather got a little rough, sleet came down hard on our heads. I was thankful for my cloak though now I noticed how miserable Drauka was. I stood between him and the wind to try to give him relief whenever he had to be on deck. The storm lasted for a week, even I began to feel the chill in my bones. When it cleared we were lost. Ferrel called up a magic pigeon and sent it toward our destination. Overkill was able to follow and we were able to get back on course.

While back on our way I felt the coming of danger thanks to the magic ring Greminor made for me. We came under attack by two daemons from the deep. I made ready the magic weapon Thoth blessed me with the knowledge to use and fired as it leaped across our deck. I struck my target, but then it became a waiting game. When and where it would show itself again. Another attack came and claimed one of our crew. Quixis went down with the beast and Drauka went in quickly after. I ran to the side to help but could not see where they were. Gavin, who is more sensitive, was able to find them and pull them back to the boat. Morgan was quick as ever to mend wounds and help our fallen members. I found myself once again giving thanks to the gods for their safe return. Though I doubt Drauka sees it that way, today he has been blessed.

Karma
Posted on the 14th of Od, in the 68th year of the Wolfen Empire.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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The bard, Terramore Gleba (yes, a shout-out to Carl Gleba) is accompanying CrIsis to give his interpretation of their tales.

I am swimming, swimming, swimming, just keep
swimming, swimming, swimming, one word and
one phrase at a time, though my consciousness
experiences total lack of context and absolute
meaninglessness.

I search for the beast, searching, searching,
searching, searching, searching, and then found.
Pure rage, no thoughts, kill that which sought to destroy
us, with no thought of ever returning safely to
those I respect, nay, regard as demi-gods, must
share their world.

I am striking, striking, striking, striking,
striking, striking with all my might, with my
magic bo staff, trying to subdue the serpent
which choose the wrong boat.

I am lifted, lifted, lifted, lifted, lifted,
lifted through the air, like a feather, a leaf,
I weigh nothing as I am safe on Matilda.

Glory be, glory be, glory be, glory be, glory be
to CrIsis- all is well and blessed again.

Composed by Terramore Gleba.
Submitted On the 8th of Gryphon in the 22nd year of Emperor Voelkian Itomas II

Next game this Saturday, October 27th, 2012.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

A God...Rebuilt has recently undergone a facelift! Actually, more like plastic surgery from head to toe! Please check it out- Feedback always welcome!! http://www.obsidianportal.com/campaigns/a-god-rebuilt

This session log from the longest serving member, Captain Overkill the Dwarf-

Malkin,

I thought that it be appropriate that I send this message in three letters. Mary is not to know about how dark I have ever become. Please do not publish this in any book as it shows the mortal and weak side of us all. Here is the second half for when we arrived in Iron Sea. I am certain that it would anger her to learn of this.

When we got a chance to relax Ferrel and Karma took off to ‘see the sights’. How was I to know that Karma was under some magic spell and that Ferrel was taking her for a ride to find some drug called Oracle. I don’t know what it is but the story goes that they hustled a dealer and that turned into a bloody fight that almost cost the dealer his life.

Upon leaving the dealer they were approached by the Danzi who had been following them. The mage, weak from Karma’s resistance to his magic, could not fight back from the Danzi’s attack that was quickly defended by Karma. The Danzi stated that the spell that our Mage had on Karma be removed and through more magic (I really don’t get magic) it was and they then proceeded to the docks.

It was at the docks that I and a few others greeted them and we began to talk about why Ferrel and Karma had disappeared in the first place. Seemed normal to explore the town to become familiar but I was appalled by the announcement of enhancing drugs. I have never told CrIsis this but I hung 12 men on mind altering drugs while on the ship Red Beard; my captain had me tie them and hang them as an example. The next three years I grew accustomed to torturing and mutilating those that would ever question the captain. That is part of why I raised in the ranks over Minischmee.

Sometimes things need to be done. I became so hard and bitter that I had to take a hiatus away from it all for a month on Mezfii’Onh away from it all though I tossed and turned each night, sometimes screaming from the haunting memories. I am sure that I kept Anjeleena’s guests up; I paid double that month. When I returned ask the good captain that I not be his interrogator ever again and he was kind enough to oblige me as I truly do not have that dark of a heart to be that Dwarf.

To say the least, I have dipped in a very dark place in myself filled with eyeballs, fingers, tongues and enough blood to bath in that I would not want to revisit how I got truth out of people. I have to say though, this Mage (and perhaps all mages), because they were always the hardest to interrogate and it required some seriously bloody and frightening forms of information extraction, has forced me to come back there. Perhaps I will not sleep well again.

To say the least when Ferrel would not return the drugs to Karma to the mage he became outraged and from a cloud of slumber (thanks to Tyvernos) was taken down like a bag of hammers. I and several others too was taken down too because of exhaustion, bad day, need for food or drink, something, caused us to fall.

When I came to, the guys had told me that it took a while to find the drugs on Ferrel but when they did they tied him up (again (?); I didn’t understand the whole story. Just after they said naked, I didn’t want to hear the whole thing), they asked for divine intervention to heal the Elf of his addiction. This came after Gavin who did a decent job, determined that his mind powers were not going to take care of this problem.

Horus came to us. He explained that we didn’t know what we were asking for and told us this was going to be a two edged sword but he then healed the mage somewhat (perhaps to clear his mind) and then departed.

After he left we returned the property to the naked Elf (save the drugs that were in possession of the Danzi) and started to discuss this ‘two edged sword’ but the Mage resisted. He told us that unless all his property was returned he was going to say nothing. We pointed out that the property in question was in fact Karma’s and that he would need to pay for it before it would be returned. I am not sure who paid her but she was given money and she gave the foul substance to him.

For a member of CrIsis, he was a stubborn one; which meant that he fit right in with the rest of us. With his drugs in hand he would not tell us a damn thing and it wasn’t until Gavin convinced him to do a mind meld that we would learn the better part of the story.

There is a memory, a harsh memory that our mage wants to remember but it is hazy and fuzzy and only through his drug could he even get close to it. Gavin removed the memory and put it in Cava to keep safe. Sure it didn’t solve the addiction, which the Danzi wants to help with (I am not sure that he can even do it. What would he use; voodoo?). All I know is that a good noose fixed the problem on the Red Beard. I don’t want to kill him.

Overkill

Sent via magic pigeon to Malkin.

Written by Overkill on the 6th of Majestic the 1st year of King Minischmee.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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I hate it when a PC dies from his own bad decisions- but as I have said before, I may now have the best group ever!! The Danzi, frustrated by his own lack of progress in the session that evening, made a bad bargain- and rather than complain, engineered his death to benefit the group! He then created his new character (a Troglodyte Earth Warlock) with not an ounce of complaining- sadness, yes, but no complaints....
Here is Drauka the Danzi's last log "Drauka's Death"

Drauka arose early. Peri was bothered by other spirits in the room, from the night before, and in that morning. Seeing this, Drauka put some cheese out to catch a mouse, and tended to her talons. An unfortunate unwitting rodent made its way into the room, and nibbled on the wrong cheese. Luckily it didn’t have long to contemplate its mistake, as Peri chirped and hopped down from her perch, snatching it up.

Drauka went into the stables’ excercise circle outside the Inn and worked Peri out; throwing round pieces of meat into the air and whistling attack commands. For the first dozen, she attacked visciously, working out her frustrations, but she started to play by the end. Drauka whistled for her to perch when the stable boys’ frustration was impossible to ignore. Peri let loose a pleased cry, and hopped a couple of times before settling down on his shoulder. Drauka’s falconry-trained patience held off the hood, waiting for Peri to settle and bend forward, showing she was ready. Hood on, they made their way back to the room.

He heard his name called from the hallway, and by the sing-song lilt identified it as a ‘basted’ Elven song mage CrIsis member. It was time to meet with Bishop Nodeki. The adventurers met Rose’s advisors, and Drauka’s disgust for Zizean was barely contained. In his current predicament it wasn’t surprising for a hatred cultivated toward Jinn.

Drauka recieved a message from the Jinn he’d covenanted with the Alchemist to travel with. The message was simply: ‘North Bridge; Tonight; Midnight.’

The church bells tolled 11. Waiting a half hour, Drauka opened the door and made his way through the deserted streets. It was a somber walk down to the bridge, quiet streets, mist rising from the river’s mouth. Drauka watched, after touching his ‘See Invisible ring,’ a 12 foot tall Jinn, approaching from the distance. It approached, and tried to circle around behind him, thinking he couldn’t see him. Drauka kept a relaxed battle-ready stance, keeping his shoulders facing the Jinn.

‘Oh, you’re no fun.’ the Jinn chided, after realizing his prank was thwarted.

‘What is it you want of me?’

’It’s a simple request.’

‘Jinn never have simple requests.’

‘Of course,’ a mischevious smile stretched across the Jinn’s lips. ‘Bring me the Finger of Osiris. One simple request. Bring it to me, or I will follow you, and get the rest of the pieces, all before you can reach them.’

Color drained from Drauka’s face. ‘What if I leave CrIsis and go about my own business? As you’re bound to me?’

‘Oh, you are a sneaky one, aren’t you? I would follow you, of course, but I would bring your fellow Danzi before you, wherever you are, and make you watch as I murder them. Men, Women, Children, it doesn’t make a difference. Your days would be plagued by the screams and faces of those that exiled you, wrenched in terror and pain.’

Drauka went silent in thought. The Jinn, impatient for an answer, and just plain bored, glided silently toward a drunkard. Seconds after he sits down, the human keels over, dead. Nearly skipping, the Jinn stalked another human, tracing a long claw down his back. The cloth ripping and bloody cries of the man, grasping at his back, distracted Drauka’s pondering, but caught his attention. He watched, rage etched in his face, as the Jinn slunk to the side of a woman cradling her infant, briskly crossing the bridge.

He snatched up her baby, poised to do unimaginable things, and Drauka yelled into the sky. ’STOP, JINN! PUT – HIM – DOWN! Lend me an hour, Jinn, to ponder my options. I will meet you here in one hour, at 1:30’

Drauka slowly walked back to his room, and wrote a note at the writing desk. He carefully gathered all his weapons and possessions and neatly organized them on the bed. He rolled up the note and carefully slid the CrIsis ring onto it. On top of the desk, he placed the note, next to Lector’s Revenge and Peri’s shoulder perch.

Here is what the note said;

Dearest friends,

The CrIsis ring around this note is to assure you that I have indeed passed beyond the veil of the living. I am sorry that I ever put myself in this situation, and I am glad I could prevent any of you from harm. It all started when I put Karma and Overkill in danger by insisting we go to an alchemist. The price was much too high, and I should have known better, but in the end, it was me that made the decision.

I got myself into a deal with a Jinn. I will not tell you the name, or the manner of the dealings, as I am positive that avenging my death will not benefit anyone, except for Set and Anubis themselves.

I take my own life, as that is the only way Isis’ quest can be fulfilled, while thwarting the servants of the Dark.

I love you all, and count you among the most honorable warriors I have ever fought along-side. If I were still counted among my clan, I would make you honorary Danzi, and I would petition for each of you to receive a Kratos of power to match your inner strengths.

Though she might not admit it, High-Priestess Tennysun in Sweet Creek desires to be honored by CrIsis almost above all else. Her little temple is in a pivotal place, and would be one of the most influential and demonstrative of CrIsis’ attitudes toward the war, in my reckoning. Though the population is mainly human, it is in the Disputed Territories and there is no King or Council that can claim it. It sits in defiance of all, but in contest to none.

I leave my belongings with you, and I leave Peri in your custody. Please see that she gets to Havea, and please tell Lord Tinor, that old panzy, that I did not fall to a single foe. Not even he can have the honor of felling me; I am the one that won our wager, in the end.

Also, my fellow members of CrIsis, please remember the pact we made, no more than a week past.

As I finish this letter, a thought passes through my mind. I am paying the ultimate price to Horus, that old bag of bones. He can’t let up on his side of the bargain from now till the end of time, as I have given him everything and more. That’ll boil his broth.

Fare thee well, CrIsis. May the wind be at your back, and victory in your grasp.

-Tru’Viki

Drauka left the room again, this time wearing only a loincloth and his two brand-new knives. He marched back down to the bridge with all the pride of a warrior going into battle. ‘Jinn! I have made a decision! Show yourself.’ The Jinn appeared, smirking his glee at the defeated Drauka. Or at least so he thought.

‘And what is that?’

‘My answer is unequivocally NO. I choose the choice you didn’t give me. I am freed from our agreement, and you did not enter into agreement with any of my compatriots through me.’ With that Drauka shoved one knife into his neck, and the other he sliced across his stomach. With his last breath, he gargled, ‘Raq’el, Guiza, my only regret is not saving you.’ His faerie blood ran through the cracks in the stones, and mixed with the rotten sludge running along the sewage trenches. The light faded from his eyes, and a wrathful falcon’s cry screeched into the crisp night air.

Steam rose from the crimson rivers, the last touch of Drauka the Danzi warrior on the world of the living.

>>As written by Sharic, as dictated by Raq’el. The second log of Raq’el, wife of Drauka, Mercenary Danzi Warrior, Written on Majestic 15 in Drauka’s 105th year.<<

‘Oh my, Raquel, are you ok,’ Sharic’s pen tracing the last stroke with a pensive hesitation. Finally, she looks up to see Raq’el’s metallic blue eyes watery with devastation. ‘No…’ gasps from her lips.

‘I’m afraid so. I saw his spirit for only a second, and it disappeared, as if ripped through a seamless tear. The last thing I heard before coming here was the voice, the cackling laugh, of Anubis. I… I…’ Raq’el’s sobs overpower her, and her arms wrap around her stomach.

‘Oh Raq’el. I… I’m sorry! Que deus vós cuide e abençõe!’ Quasi-silent prayers gush from the High-Priestesses lips. Raq’el’s misty visage wavers, and disappears, and the only thing left in the air is a stream of rote prayers flowing from a devout’s soul and a racking sob, fading into eternity.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

Back from our Christmas break! Here is a log from the slightly off-balance gnome, Tyvernos, the Air Warlock.
Thanks to all of you who voted for us for Campaign of the Year on Obsidian Portal. We finished 3rd.

Bent Over Bennudiction


Living fire roared with an elemental incense when Bennu appeared in the middle of the banquet hall where we broke our fast. Otto in an odd fellow’s rest would have begrudged me the pyre of her divine countenance — if only from celestial lips and heavenly brea…lungs countenanced her advice. She bennuficently saved us front-row seats at our closest companions hearing-trial-sentence. Judge not — we were told — lest we be judged by the St. Bernard. I enjoyed the opportunity to stretch Otto’s furry legs on our way to the temple. Despite the dire circumstances I must admit my guilty giddy pleasure. I couldn’t help myself from clapping with joy! I hadn’t had the opportunity to attend such a festivity in a coon’s age. It was impossible to repel and repeal the elan from my flan and the verve from my swerve as I jauntily gallivanted to our friends’ dooms.

Once on the temple grounds I maintained my modicum of dignity and decorum for I, a disciple of Bennu, am expected to act my age and not my shoe size…which, as an aside, is rather large for an entire Gnomish race of bell-curved standard-deviations. CrIsis was ushered into the temple post-haste and introduced to the newest possessor of the CrIsis Decoder Ring. Vandur the Dwarven Paladin, looked Overkill right in the eye and spat. The two diminutive chaps clearly had more in common than one of my own wide-berthed stature.

We heard Bennu speak and it sounded like fire-talking. I will attempt, here, to reproduce the sounds she made of one-hand clapping. (unintelligible garbled letters written in Dragonese — gibberish)

“Overkill, Karma and Ferrel step forward for Judgement." Wow! Sounds rather ominous. Overkill shared with the group their desire to seek out an alchemist. At the apothecary / alchemy shop the alchemist demanded that they all buy something. This guy showed up and insanity ensued. It turns out the three of them made a pact with an agent of Set—with a member of the Pantheon of Darkness. Bennu mildly suggested that in the future Overkill should take his own life before selling his soul to the devil, betraying the Pantheon of Light, and / or making such a heinous mistake. She told him that should he be faced with the same decision once again — he should choose death. Wow! She was serious!
Karma was stripped of her powers and sent home. She was forced to relinquish Humara.

Ferrel was burned alive — to death. Sad…but, AWESOME!

Overkill was given the magic Lyre Cherlindria and tasked with returning it to its maker, Dante Phillips, in the Ophid’s Grasslands. I might enjoy such a diversion. I think I’ll tag along for that one.

The group then retired to Matilda for a secret / private conversation. We are more informally introduced to “Vandur” a male, 3ft tall Dwarf and Roggan of the Trog-Noggin Rock rockin’ Earth Warlock Tribe. Matilda seems to have doubled in height…miraculously! I couldn’t keep my eyes from staring suspicious daggers at the dog but he was couched in a fur of secrecy from the moment we ascended the gangway. It’s just like the flea-bitten mutt to take it upon himself and make Titanic-Accommodations to Matilda. Poor lass! Regardless, Vandur was surprisingly vague about the origins of his CrIsis Ring; I am right to be wary of the untested, newest members. He hails from the Northern Hinterlands and used to run a half-way house for runaway Dwarves. At the mention of Teddy Ruskin, Vandur’s Great Griffon mount, Roggan ran off to retrieve his own trusty, valiant steed.

I continued to grill Vandur but, to my dismay, distraction reared its ugly Troglodyte head when Roggan appeared standing astride the 6ft tall shoulders of an Obaru — holding the antlers like reins! But wait! Suddenly he lost his balance! Roggan sailed off the Elk’s shoulders and caromed off the mast to careen into the boards as they “did shrink” and thud against the floor and finally come to a halt. Roggan got run-over by a reindeer! Prancing on Matilda Majestic Eve! You may say there’s no such thing as Warlocks…but as for me and Roggan we believe!

Tonight en route to an Eye of Vengeance soiree when we were set upon by ambushers. Our assailants disappeared before we could react but not before they froze an innocent bystander with an enchanted arrow. Gavin, ever the jumpy worry-wart announced our imminent danger — and was right on the money as usual. It’s like he’s psychic or something! Here’s a brief excerpt from my memory of the battle and the subsequent treatment of the innocent man:

Roggan Looks really excited, as arrows rain from above.
Tyvernos breathes deeply and begins to move his hands and reach out to the elemental air.
Roggan claps excitedly, fixated on Tyvernos.
Tyvernos grasps intangible wisps of potential psychic energy and chants the spell
Roggan Does a stomping chant, and cobblestones from the street travel up my legs to make an armor of stone…. I started walking slower, but not so slow he was left behind.
Tyvernos breaths a rush of air from his mouth and releases the spell. A massive buffet of wind cushions the 120ft area around both the party and the crowd in an attempt to protect the innocents from further volleys of arrows.
Roggan giggles excitedly, and throws pebbles at it, and watches them bounce.
Tyvernos pulls Roggan aside and explains to the Troglodyte that our efforts are best suited to finding food in the kitchen and that there isn’t anything we can do for the poor, frozen fool.
Roggan says “Roggan ask ”/campaign/a-god-rebuilt/wikis/bluto" class="item">Bluto if Bluto want some."
Roggan whispers to his closed backpack.
Roggan tells Tyvernos matter-of-factly “Bluto not hungry right now.”
Later, I accompanied Overkill to the Pyramid compound / complex to commune with our gods and to donate a little of my coin to the ensuring that Otto is dealt with for his crimes. It still amazes me how he was able to escape scrutiny when Karma and Ferrel were ferreted out for their treachery. Cava, Roggan, and Gavin decided to join us in communion and each went to his respective god’s temple.

After finishing my prayer of Ottoman Accusations I urged Roggan — leading by example — to donate some of his prized geodesic possessions to the goddess, Bennu. Roggan ran across the causeway to the temple and dumped some particularly wet-looking sand on the donation plate. The strange fellow then jumped up and down, singing a song in the primal, elemental language, and the sand formed into a little Mound of Mud.
Finally, we feasted on the finest faire, upon the finest China — fete and sup and feast at the banquet at the Sun’s Rest. The Eye of Vengeance is a group of Ra-worshippers so you can bet they know how to hold their liquor. Tiny got drunk but he came after Overkill for “Dwarven Ale” which is “the ****.” It turns out he was just the waitress.
Terramore began strumming and composing an ode to Gavin — songs of praise and laudatory accolades. He and Quixis were interrupted by the call to alms and quixly ran off to retrieve more beer from Matilda.

A troglodyte began convulsing.

Roggan the wretched wretch retched convulsively through paroxysm and ejected a spew of spuming vomit all over the vomitorium. I whispered to him in Elemental, between wracking spasmodic shivers, “Did you try the beer?” I felt it necessary to remind my teetotaler friend in Elemental that I can resurrect a liver or two after nights of carousing and revelry if the need arises.

Finally, Terramore and Quixis returned with more drink for the Trog. Roggan laid down on his side and moaned, “Kill Roggan. Please?” to which I sagely replied, “Poor Roggan, if only it were within my alignment to do so.” Clearly, Otto has drunk the poor warlock under the table. At that moment the strange creature jumped up and said, “ROGGAN WANT TO DANCE!” Roggan grabbed me bodily, around the waist, and put me around his shoulders like a wee Gnomish shawl. I should like to thank him, one of these days, for trying me on for size.

Later that evening I heard commotion from Overkill’s room — nothing out of the ordinary what with his cabin’s proximity to the mount cages and livestock pens; I paid it no mind and promptly returned to slumber where I composed the following poem:

Twas the night before Majestic when all through the ship,
Not a creature was stirring, not even Chip.
The package arrived all tied up with string,
When Roggan offered Bluto open the thing

Tyvernos was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of Cava dead danced in his head.
And Roggan in his ’kerchief and I in my sack,
Had just settled our brains for a hang-over nap.

When in Overkill’s room there arose such a clatter,
I was sprung from my bed to see what was the matter.
The moon on the breast of Ramadan below,
Gave the lustre of Cava to objects below.

Ramadan didn’t climb down the chimney but he definitely crawled up Overkill’s ass. Cava had big enough balls for an entire women’s soccer team that night. I imbued him with an Armor of the Dwarf King Ithan and the ability to FLY LIKE A ******* EAGLE — admittedly, it’s my most sought-after ability. I made four lightning arrows but couldn’t find my scissors so I rummaged around my backpack until I found my other TOOL…

So long.
We wish you well.
You told us how you weren’t afraid to die.
Well then, so long.
Don’t cry.
Or feel too down.
Not all martyrs see divinity.
But at least you tried.

Flying above the crowd,
He had a voice that was strong and loud.
We’ll miss him.
Ranting and pointing his finger
At everything but his heart.
We’ll miss him.

The package-sender’s intended victim was too afraid to open it. I felt a sharp kick to my shin as the package exploded and Cava was in desperate need of healing. We rushed him to the temple where Father William told us that a Parcel of Mystery is a gift directly from Anubis. The box explosions do significant damage and then afflict the opener with contact poisons that can only be removed by the usage of holy water.
Bishop Rose laid hands on Cava — she had tears in her eyes as she removes her hands and shook her head gravely. It appeared to be beyond her strength to cure. U-Selekma might not even have the power to remove this curse. She recommended we reach out to Malkin Falimede and see if he has any information regarding the magic. Her brother, Ramadan, delivered the package — we informed Bishop Rose of the connection — but she didn’t recognize the implication. She was totally distraught and needed sleep badly.
Too much adventure for one night! I returned to Quixis with Terramore in tow and left the rest of the group at the Pyramid. Tuckered out and too pooped to pop. The sun had already risen. The Knights of Dawn party is tonight but the situation may be a little weird as they are an order of Paladins and we are without our former Paladin, Karma. Sir Quixis, however asks us to attend and we do. I suggest that our new Dwarven Paladin, Vandur attend in our stead and that such a duty should suffice as his initiation into our fraternity; I recommended as much lest he be hazed and teased and tortured mercilessly by the dilettante dog Otto.
Morning of the 17th of Majestic — we received a pigeon from King Minischmee. We sent a pigeon to Malkin Falimede and informed him of his great-great-great grandon’s death and the package of mystery now afflicting Cava. Finally we were asked to speak to Bishop Rose one last time before we leave on an ADVENTURE — and we do so dutifully. She informs us that her efforts to research the ailment and divine a cure have been in vain. She told us that she had failed us and that she was impotent to save Cava from the curse. She was under the impression that only Anubis can remove the curse. Bummer! I stepped forward and prevails upon her to help CrIsis in traveling to Timiro. She procured us Tyrone Heneman and his slim-lined Nicole for river-boat passage.
Malkin Falimede finally returned our pigeon while we were on the river boat. He informed us of multiple curses — the Curse of Dog Phobia, Curse of Psionic Phobia, and Curse of God Phobia (stronghold of Shandala), Curse of Water Phobia, Curse of Changeling Phobia, and the Curse of Giant Phobia.
We finally get into a fight on the river boat — a traveling troupe of merry men…in tights! We are assailed by actors and forced to stay our hands from ridding Palladium of their insolence.

The next attack upon us was a coordinated effort by orcs and high-orcs! Some if by land and some if by sea! Roggan was very quick to subdue the shore-bound bodies of Orcish meat in liquified rock and river-slickened sand. The brutish buccaneers were mired in quicksilver Quicksand! He then opened up a crevasse in the earth to bring forth a River of Lava! His elemental might and magical prowess are a thing of marvel. Terramore, however, marveled at his plight from beneath the miasmic waves. I attempted to levitate him but failed miserably and the orcs were soon dispatched. Between Gavin, Cava, Overkill, and Roggan’s timely spell-casting I daresay there was hardly a need for me or my eagle wings…or my lightning arrows. Next time perhaps I’ll try a different approach. Otto!

Until next we speak…
Written by Tyvernos on the 19th of Majestic, in the 69th Year of the Wolfen Empire.

Edited out a piece of broken HTML code.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

We had a guest player pull an all-nighter to join us- he lives in Scotland, so our 5p-1am Pacific game ran from 1am-9am!! It was a great time- here is the account from Jidian Kulder (yes, the Legion has returned from the Land of the Damned). In my game, the Legion of Northmoor has taken on the quest to destroy the Glaive of the Old Ones in Rifter 25 & 26 (one of the best adventures ever, in my opinion, you should try it!!)

A letter to the Library of Bletherad from Jidian Kulder, leader of the Legion of Northmoor-

In pursuit of our mission to destroy the legendary Glaive of the Old Ones the solemn ritual was thwarted when Glaivite mutineers attacked our small faction of Legionnaires and kidnapped the noble Sister Gaia.

With time being crucial and the repossession of the Glaive presenting the very real danger of a summoning of The Old Ones by the powerful Glaivite mages, I hurriedly discussed the situation with our wise mage Hobe Bygone and, determining that there was not enough time for us to gather together the Legionnaires that we needed, we prayed to Isis for a solution. The Righteous Goddess guided us through prayer to request the aid of the world famous Divine adventuring group, CrIsis.

Armed with one of Hobe’s Teleportation scrolls, I travelled to their current location and beseeched them to aid the cause of Isis. They were not all present, but those that were, pledged their help without a second thought and we arrived at the Tower of Stone with not a moment to spare.

I directed those Legionnaires who were at the Tower to attract the attention of the Glaivites by attacking the perimeter while CrIsis and I stole inside, using the power of their Troglodyte Warlock to turn the wooden doors to dust. As we scrambled up and down the stairs, searching for the Glaive and Sister Gaia, elemental forces, controlled by the warlocks of CrIsis sought out the whereabouts of the Priestess and the Glaive.

There were several distractions, during which we battled many evil minions; and more than once we had to retrace our steps. We made some mistakes – sealing off the exit by poorly calculated placement of magical walls being but one of these. Nonetheless, progress was made and through the pursuit and rectification of error, and by the Divine guidance of Isis, aided by the poorly conversant elementals in bondage to the warlocks, we eventually found our direction and arrived in the dungeons of the tower.

The Deevils had set troll guards on the outer rooms but they had either thoughtlessly set their guard or had severely underestimated the mission to reclaim the Glaive. CrIsis very quickly showed me the speed with which five trolls should be dispatched.

I must here account for the bravery of every member of the CrIsis unit. The Dwarf Overkill intrepidly charged into any danger and would have died but for the power of Osiris. The ranger Cava and the Elven bard Terramore who accompanied us, held the beasts of evil at bay with arrow, sword and axe, and the magical arrows the Gnome Tyvernos conjured provided me with a ranged arsenal I can usually only dream of. Both of their warlocks, Roggan and Tyvernos, are quick to act, and it is through their craftiness that we were able to finally enter the chamber in which the summoning of the Old Ones was to take place. It was at this place that their Changeling Mind Mage, Gavin entered in with us and I must say that it was only through his quick action and powerful psionics that the life of Gaia was spared.

The last chamber was an abhorrent nightmare of Deevil chanting and attempted ritual slaughter, officiated by a Deevil Arch Fiend named Ratel, holding the Glaive of the Old Ones in his hand and poised to sacrifice our good Wolfen priestess. He was darkness incarnate, with glowing eyes and mouth being the only things showing through his hooded cloak.

We battled with everything that we had available to us but they were protected by mighty magic and would not be obliterated. As we struggled against their minions and our mounting wounds, and with the life of Gaia being held in the balance only by the quick thinking of the Mind Mage, we found we still could not penetrate the defences of Ratel, when suddenly, with almost all forces spent, I swear I must have had Divine inspiration from Isis herself, for without knowing what might happen, I took out the Rod of Thoth, Virakheth, and calling on the powers of both Isis and Thoth smote our enemy and brought about the annihilation of his forces. Thus was the great evil vanquished and a new Age of Chaos avoided.

By the grace of CrIsis, the Legionnaires of Northmoor hastily left the scene to continue in our quest to destroy the Glaive of the Old Ones, so I do not know how they left that dark tower or what they did hereafter, but legend of the part that they played is now writ!

Jidian
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by Juce734 »

This campaign is so good! I am jealous over here.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

Thanks man! Appreciate it!
There are always a lot more logs on the official site on Obsidian Portal- I only post 1 here every 2 weeks, but there are usually 4-6 there.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

Heading down the Great River from Haven to Llorn, the party has decided to help the ranger, Cava, take revenge on a Priest of Anubis that killed his parents and his fiancee. This means a trip to Kaash, the den of evil in the Eastern Territory.
Log is written by his good friend, the Dwarf Overkill. They have arranged to have 1 on 1 combat between Cava and the 6-fingered priest next session.

Mary,

It has been a while since I wrote and I am deeply sorry. I want to tell you about the last few days and how my friend Cava (and all of CrIsis) is doing. I do not know if you got my request to come to Llorn or if you have even decided to meet me there but I dearly hope so.

After defeating a tower of creatures and serious wealth and getting back to Rivendyne, it was while we were traveling there that someone who shall remain nameless but was stupid enough to get him self nearly killed but I am getting ahead of myself.

It was in the four days of travel that we took some time to learn of the new player in the game of life. Navelo is a strange guy; a holy crusader who is so glued to his job that he takes not time for life and himself; torturer and killing heathens and heretics. I worry about my barbarian friends in the North with crazy people like him loose.

Ok here is the story of Navelo. He was a student of war and religion under the tutelage of Father Lemriel in Epiphany of the Middle Kingdoms in the Western Empire. An orphan (and virgin; don’t laugh, I didn’t) he was very skilled at throwing weapons (though not good at showing off). He was very good at answering every question except one; mine. What does the gods want you to learn? Somehow asking that question killed the night and we went to bed.

The following morning we had a dill weed decide to play dodge tree. This stupid game involved ripping a tree from its roots and launching it into the sky and then run. While it’s true that I have done some stupid things racing into combat, I have never done something so foolish as to kill myself with a game I was playing and endanger the rest of CrIsis.

After four days and attempting to forget dodge tree we were jumped by kelpie, ugly man horse creatures that love the swamps (and apparently rivers). Were it not for the massive rush of wind that swept those foul creatures away I am sure that I would of actually had to draw a sword. Magic, who’d thunk it eh?

We finally got to Rivendyne and meet with Tyrone the captain of the riverboat Nicole, well that’s because of human named William a.k.a. Good Will who introduces and points out the tavern saloon. (Dear, we need to really get a mount or two. We really travel a lot on the land but I really prefer the water.)

Oh I forgot to tell you I got a flute at the tower and I actually could play it. Oh yea your man is musically talented. Well when we walked to the tavern I played a tune that Roggan actually danced to (troglodytes are still weird though but I am getting used to them). Tyrone tells us that the river goes through three cities and branches off to a city that Cava wants dead. I wanted to focus on getting to Llorn where I hope you are at but I also want to help my pal gain closure.

Tyrone told us that if we were to travel to the city of Kaash (that’s that town off that branch river I told you about; then come to think of it I never figured out what the name of that river was…. Anyways) he says that he is never going to set foot in that evil city ever again because he escaped it in the first place with just the hair on his head. So this kind sir makes arrangements via, well he never said how he made the arrangements for passage but this boat shows up at the mouth where the river branches and we meet a new guy….. Augh I got ahead of myself again.

Back track…..

It was at the town that we (Cava and I) had a little pow wow with Terramore (you know the famous guy) and we talk to him about his impulsiveness and brashness (yea I gave the lecture, don’t laugh) and encouraged him to tone it down and think more (stop laughing) because I cared for him (now your laughing because I got mushy, I tell you, you and Mini). Well that lead to a ballad or sonnet or something about how great and blah blah blah…. me and Cava were.

While we were talking to Terramore, Tyvernos (you know the gnome) makes a pass at this keepers woman. I thought that it was going to lead to a dead gnome because he made mention of the woman’s figure and how he… well lets just say it was weird and graphic. I though that the woman would be insulted but she liked the pass and keeper wasn’t mad. Humans are odd sometimes.

Several nights passed and it was in the course of travel down the river that on one particular night we came across a pack of wolves. It wasn’t my shift so I was wrapped in my bedroll and cape sleeping dreaming a real good dream about you and we were…. Well let just say that it was good. Well the guys were busy fighting these creatures that by the time I actually got out of my slumber the creatures were again taken care of by magic. Warlocks may be weird but they sure are handy.

The next day I was more alert and was a good thing too we encountered tuskers. Now the fight got Cava and me hurt a little but it was when the two creatures headed for Rogan that we saw the most amazing thing, instead of killing him, they knocked him over and began licking the death of him. He was laughing and toying with these creatures like they were dogs, puppies really. We stood aghast for the next ten minutes while this troglodyte played with these ferocious creatures before he realized that perhaps we should continue. So like a pet dog he threw a stick and we ran like we were on fire.

The first time didn’t work. But the second time did and we got a way.

When we finally got back on the river, the following day we got to our rendezvous. The riverboat captain of the other ship was named Nassil McKern I could tell instantly by the way the Tyrone looked at this guy that there was some seriously bad blood and they didn’t like each other. He was pleasant and smiled but smelled of bad cheese or rotten raw fish, I wouldn’t know; I am not a connoisseur. (Honey if you had seen some of the stuff I have seen the other races stuff in their mouths your would have a little barf in the back of your throat constantly).

Well Tyrone splits and we head to Kaash (oh by the way, we left most of our wealth with Tyrone at this point because the idea of being killed for our wealth didn’t appeal; wish we’d left the finger of Osiris. I’ll talk about that some more).

While traveling down the river I, in my best Eastern, tell the new captain that we have a package to deliver and to insure that we were not going to get killed introduce all our friends under alias names witch within less then five minutes Roggan blows (the guy talks in the third person and uses Roggan a lot). Well the guy doesn’t seem to catch on or something but keeps on talking about his beloved Kaash and now it has got a bad rap for a long time and its really a good city. Somehow I was buying every second of it. I really don’t know what was wrong with me.

We finally get to the city and the captain says that he will be there for us when we get out of the city “But then again” says he “you might want to just stay”. I should have been really creeped out but like I said this guy was pretty convincing. Well the city is huge with eighty to ninety foot wall and huge blood red tapestries and statues and spikes. I have to say it was impressive. This kingdom is ruled by Althizar Kaash, elf king of…. this place.

Well we make our way to the tavern after half a days travel to this city and there the biggest mistake ever to be made by us in this town (I wont say ever as there has been bigger ones, I am sure) ensues. It starts out a simple request to find the priest that caused Cava’s trouble and that leads to some guy making a pass at Gavin (he being a man child) and escalating to the death of everyone in that room. The smell of alcohol and feces still hangs on my clothes and the vision of standing in their **** and blood. Man that will not be forgotten soon. Reminds me of the times as a pirate… good times.

Thankfully that was the worse part of the day. We worked our way across the town and even get directions from a guy. The guy sees us covered in the blood of demons and the visitors of the tavern and they don’t even bat an eye. This is a freaky town.

We make our way to the priest’s house (the six fingered man; I know sounds funny till you see it) without incident and turns out his house is open. This guy really has a pair. He then makes his way to the door and with a smile takes our threat of killing him where he stands as a trail blazing little girl joke and that’s when I say the weirdest thing. I say that perhaps a duel on neutral ground is in order as Cava wants to kill him and he want to wrap up this loose end (as it were) and says ‘See you in Rivendyne.” The others look relieved and surprised. I don’t know where this is going but I should be there to help Cava. A duel one on one should be as interesting as it was in Haven. Again we will be facing a priest of a god in a duel.

Its dusk now and we need to find a place to sleep. I pray that we are not going to choose to sleep here. Good night.

Mary, I hope to see you in Llorn.

Overkill.

Message on the 16th of Korg in the first year of the reign of King Minischmee of Bizantium.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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From our March 2nd game, a log from the boy mind mage (really a changeling) Gavin. As you can tell, he is going through some serious depression

Drunken Lullabies-

What’s the point? Who is this for? I look out and wonder where all my loved ones have gone. My parents have disappeared and now my dear Morgan has abandoned me in my moment of need. She took my little Sadie. I am afraid I will never be able to see her grow up. I am slowly missing the most important years of her life and there is nothing I can do about it. I thought my marriage would mean we would work through the hardships life threw at us, I guess I was wrong. Now I am alone. Its hard to remember most nights. I have a vague memory of playing the old shoot an arrow in the air and run away from it game, only this was with a tree I think? I think I remember hearing Roggan crying with the tree on top of him. I guess I am sorry for that buddy. I wish I could remember more about that night. Life though seems to be a shell of its former self. Mr. Monkey and I agree that we are both only able to find our fun when we visit Overkill before retiring for bed.

I remember one night before Cava fought his arch-nemesis, we partied especially hard. We knew there was a big fight, but this helps ease our minds. So we each took turns drinking and playing games. Songs of the dwarven culture filled the hallways of the inn and games and festivities took part as well. At one point I remember us inviting in some fellow patrons to join us. It truly was a party. There was even a visit from the owner letting us know we were disturbing the other guests. I mean sheesh, its an open party they can come if they want. There’s no need to get all butt hurt bout it.

At some point I remember hanging out with this one man or woman or I don’t know who it was. Anyhow I think we left the room and snuck off to party somewhere else, I remember something about a druidic ceremony and some type of pipe that even Mr. Monkey tried. Well at least it calmed him down a lot. From that point on he was like searching my hair for food or something. He is so weird. Then there was some kind of party in a monastery somewhere. We may have broken some things. We snuck out fast before anyone caught wind of us. I think there was some cow tipping involved and other stuff. Most of it was a blur. It made the next day a nightmare. Gah the headache alone was enough to drive me to not want to drink for at least a day. Cava beat his rival with style and there was much rejoicing. We celebrated by creating a blender full of dark followers in one of my bubbles. It was like one of those snow globule things that Chip told me about. It was almost as beautiful as he described, except more messy.

We continued on our way afterwards. I have been give a new sword. For now it is wrapped safely until we know what power it possesses. Our route seems treacherous ahead. So Overkill and I have decided to do the night watch. At least he won’t call me out on sneaking a drink or two.

Posted by Gavin on the 19th of Corg in the 9th Year of King Gedro.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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From our March 16th game, a log from Cava, the Ranger, to Nath Everall, the infamous Bowyer in Greenbough:

Dear Nath

I haven’t heard anything from you in some time, hope everything’s well with you.

I have news! We tracked down the man who killed my family!

It turns out Reeves was a priest of Anubis in Kaash!

He agreed to meet me in single combat, and I beat him to death with my bare hands. All I remember is punching and punching and punching until I felt life slip from his body, then I gave his blood to my axe. It’s kinda creepy, but he likes that kind of stuff.

At the time, it felt great, but now I can’t help but feel that his death was too quick. Perhaps I should have kept him alive and extended his torment. I don’t know.

I have been in the revenge business so long; now that it is over I’m at a loss for what to do with myself. Were it not for this quest My Lady has given me, I expect I would change my name to Roberts and take up piracy.

Our travels down the Great River continued. We made it through The Gauntlet to Hadrian’s Cove, where we met a man who had a touch-it glass so large and powerful (he called it a tele-scope) that I was able to look at the moon!

Close-up, and in great detail!

It was one of the most spectacular things I have ever seen!

It cost me 50 gold, but I would gladly have paid twice that amount to have such a singular experience!

While we were at Hadrian’s Cove, Overkill learned that someone he knew was living there, and we spent the large part of a day trying to find her. Apparently, the Gods tasked him with finding his old shipmates and sending them to Bizantiumi and this dwarf was one of them.

It turns out, she worked at some sort of top-secret botanical garden that nobody wanted to say much about. After we looked at the moon, we took a chance and hit up a tavern. Overkill bought the owner a drink to soften him up, and it turns out he knew where she was: a Dark tavern on the other side of town.

So we went there, and the place was thick with Taut. We checked our weapons, went in and found her, and immediately they started to argue.

I guess she hates him. Who woulda guessed?

They got close to trading blows and went outside to reclaim their weapons, presumably so they could do the thing properly, but when she swung her axe at Overkill, Roggan turned her to stone. We were going to return her to flesh so Overkill could convince her to go to Bizantium, but I thought, "Screw it. It’ll be a lot easier if we just stuck an address on and shipped her there.

So we did.

Speaking of Overkill, we stopped by Halzard’s Blade, the swordsmith’s shop, where he immediately started looking for another sword! I said to him, “Look. You already have two. Unless you also have a prehensile penis, another sword’s not going to do you any good!”

He wasn’t very amused.

The next day, we went through the Great Canal.

Truly, this was a marvel to behold! I was in awe, but it was nothing compared to Roggan’s reaction. His head swiveled around so much that I thought it would loosen and fall off!

All too quickly, we were through the Canal, and we stopped for the night at a little place called Neven. As soon as we arrived, we were met by a snotty little knight by the name of Thurgood.

Remember Robert the Just? This guy was worse.

Much worse.

He very haughtily declaired that he was there to “escort” us to Llorn as " Duke Githeon VasPasseon was most displeased" with us, and we had to “answer for our misdeeds.”

Or some such.

We arrived at Llorn, and were immediately surrounded by knights. They “escorted” us around the city as we paid the entry taxes, then took us to the “Hall of Right” to meet with the Duke. It was all very impressive, I’m sure I was intimidated at least once during the whole procession.

In the Hall of Right, we met with the Duke (who was very shouty), a dwarf who looked like he knew how to handle himself in a fight, and a strange elf-woman who whispered things into the Duke’s ear every time he looked to be winding down, and started him off yelling at us again.

I’ll summarize his shouting by saying that my extreme political acumen and polished silver tongue had once again saved the day, as the Duke’s son was one of those “diplomats” I oh-so-gently rebuked in Haven.

Oh dear.

This insult was made worse by the fact that the Duke absolutely hates religion of any stripe because one of
Rurga’s people was caught with his hand in the till. I have met Rurga, and I have a very hard time believing this, especially in light of the fact that this man is still alive.

Come to think on it, I think the elf-woman has the Duke under some kind of spell because she would whisper into his ear the most whenever anyone brought up the Church.

Fortunately, Roggan was able to talk the Duke down, and he told us he would accept our written apologies, published in our next book, in lieu of attempting to jail us for life.

Much calmer at this point, and at Roggan’s request, the Duke escorted us on a tour of Llorn’s fabled Sun Stone Garden. Personally, I don’t know what the fuss was about as it just looked like a flat mosaic of stones, but everyone else there wandered about with their eyes wide open and their mouths gaping as they were gazing on the most beautiful scene they had ever sceen.

From how everyone there acted, I’m wondering if it isn’t home to some kind of evil creature that’s eating everyone’s brains.

Improbably enough, one of the people wandering around the garden was Overkill’s wife, Mary. I guess he wrote and asked her to meet us in Llorn.

Looks like ol’ Overkill had the itch.

I fully intend to investigate the mind-controlling she-elf and this magical, brain-eating rock garden. Perhaps we can free Llorn of some great evil and the Duke won’t insist on an embarrassing published apology from us.

Couldn’t hurt to try.

This is as far as we’ve gotten. If you have any information that could help us as we continue on our way to Timiro, I would be grateful. Also, I’m beginning to run low on arrows. Perhaps we could meet up somewhere on our way back up the river and refill my quiver?

Hope to hear from you soon,
Cava

Posted by Cava on 27 Corg, Dominion 341.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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A God...Rebuilt is now in 5th place, out of over 2300 campaigns, on Obsidian Portal! Always looking for more fans, and more exposure for Palladium! Free to sign up- then just add us to your favorites! Link to game in my signature.

This log is from our session on 3/30/13. It is written by the troglodyte earth warlock Roggan. He uses a rock he named Bluto to write his official logs, as Roggan is not very intelligent ( IQ 6) and this allows him to write what he wants...

The Bazaar and Karowyn’s

Hello again, Bluto here. As Roggan was on a spiritual high for most of the adventures in Llorn, and doesn’t remember things properly, I will have to act as his mouthpiece again. But that’s ok, ‘cause I know you guys prefer my writing to his anyway.

As CrIsis left the Rock Gardens of Duke VasPasseon’s palace on the hill, they were rushed onward by a gruff guard. Their attempts to ask him kindly for directions to Karowyn’s money exchange and bank were met with sharp tongue that Roggan surely didn’t appreciate.

“You see that over there?” the guard pointed to the bay. “It’s not in there. See that over there?” He jabbed a gauntleted finger toward the ocean on the other side of Llorn as the bay. “It’s not out there. You see that up there?” He pointed up the hill to the palace. “It’s not in there. So, it’s probably out there.” And he gestured toward all of Llorn. “Now, move along so that people can exit the gardens.”

CrIsis did move along, and on their way down the hill toward the city proper, they passed something called a ‘restaurant.’ It’s where you can just go to eat, and the cooks really do well with the food. Not for the first time I wished I had a stomach, though no one wants to clean a rock that has never been potty-trained, and I wouldn’t trust Roggan to care to. The food that they ate was probably divine!

The waiter, when he was bringing around the final bill, had in his hands a copy of the Third Book of Crisis. Roggan, having seen people ask the other members of CrIsis for their autographs, became overexcited. He ripped the book from the waiter’s hands, smashed his hand into some leftover food, and placed his handprint on a mostly-blank page in the back. The rest signed it in more normal ways.

They then asked for directions to Karowyn’s, and received directions to the Bazaar. It was a very crowded place, and Roggan’s altered state made him want to feel everyone. He closed his eyes, lifted his face to the skies, and started walking through the crowded streets with out-stretched arms. Unfortunately for Roggan, but fortunately for the rest of CrIsis, Cava stepped in and stopped him from scaring the masses.

As he was leaning down to talk into the Trog’s ear, a head shorter than him, he felt the lightning quick fingers of a street thief violate his jacket’s pocket. With reflexes to match the thief’s nimble fingers, he snatched the woman’s wrist. She started screaming out for the guards, “THIS MAN IS ATTACKING ME!”

In Roggan’s altered state, he thought Cava and this woman were dancing. Not wanting to let the moment go to waste, he grabbed ahold of the stranger, and started to swing her around; her legs flying through the air, all the while screaming for guards. Even though his judgement was off, he still had the sense to keep the rogue’s hands out of his backpack, no matter how persistent she was. Finally the guards made their way through the crowd to the group, though they had no trouble when they got within the ring the crowd had made. “What is happening here?” One of them demanded.

“This man and lizard attacked me!” The woman, if she doesn’t make a living with thievery should take up acting, because her tears appeared almost real. The guards looked at Cava, then at Roggan, and were about to say something when Roggan tried to explain everything to them. Unfortunately, Llorn is in the Eastern Territory, and there is hardly anyone that speaks Dwarven there – Roggan’s native language and the language he regularly speaks, regardless of location. After a couple of minutes of confused looks from the guards, and an ‘Ahem’ from Cava, Roggan remembered he can’t speak Dwarven with everyone. He used his Skills in charm and impression, and mimed to the guards the situation. To everyone’s surprise, the guards understood, and took the thief away. We would later find that due to that one thief’s capture, the guard was able to take down the entire Thieves’ Guild in Llorn, thereby making Roggan a local Folk Hero. All hail Roggan, unwitting destroyer of scum and thievery! Hip Hip!

CrIsis was escorted by guard to Karowyn’s Merchanthouse. On their way there, Roggan saw Gavin’s drunkenness, and decided to help. With his carved Goblet, he served the changeling a cupful of water. The magical properties cured his drunkenness, but to Roggan’s disappointment (and misunderstanding of the goblet) Gavin didn’t understand a word Roggan jabbered in his earthen tongue.

Cava did his best to explain to Roggan in ‘Roggan terms’ what Karowyns does. Roggan became extremely excited, because in his current ‘ecstatic’ state of mind, all he heard was ‘Gemfriend daycare,’ and ‘make new Gemfriends.’ So, if anyone asks him what Karowyn’s is, he’ll explain that it’s some kind of weird gem breeding facility. He deposited everything he had, because ‘you can never have too many rockfriends.’

While rummaging through his bags, he saw the Wizard Jars he and CrIsis recovered from the Stone Tower. ‘Roggan want to go to Alkymas! Need to sell Wizzy jars!’ I sincerely hope he doesn’t become addicted to making gold. As CrIsis finished their business, they saw that one of the tellers had brought out a stack of the Books of CrIsis. They signed them, and were recompensed in a discounted service charge, and a map of Llorn.

The Alchemist

Their work done, they went back into the streets. Gavin and Tyvernos both left, with work to do elsewhere – Tyvernos went to apologize to Terramore for CrIsis not meeting up with him at noon and was sidetracked on his way back in the RedLight District. (If Roggan asks you what that is, please don’t tell him, thank you). Gavin went to wallow in his self-pity, and successfully escaped our notice when Tyvernos left. Roggan grabbed ahold of Overkill’s cloak, wanting to see the colors up close and feel the fabric, and they were off to Venner’s alchemist shop. Overkill was choked from time to time, as Roggan – who still had a grip on his cloak – had become enthralled with the flavor of buildings and would stop longer at some than others. Surprisingly few citizens had a problem with his long, translucent tongue exploring their walls, windows, and doors. As long as he didn’t taste their wares, there was no issue in their minds. He decided to taste every building in Llorn, but when they got to Venner’s place, he completely forgot his endeavor.

Roggan let Overkill’s cloak fall from his hands as he, the dwarf, and the ranger walked into the Alchemist’s shop. He was mesmerized by the amazing (at least in his endorphin-addled mind) colors around him. He looked from jar to jar, hypnotized by the dragons’ livers, rat feces, phoenix tail feathers, snapping beetle pheromone glands, and the lollipop stand (for children).

While he walked around the shop, waiting for an attendant to come from the back, he pulled out his stone staff and cradled it in his arms. He started to idly lick the stone haft, and the Alchemist, Venner himself, walked through a curtain in the back. ‘Ah, adventurers! How may I help you?’ he asked in a friendly, salesman’s voice.

‘We are here to buy and sell. Do you know of Greminor?’ Cava asked, just as frendily. Venner glared at the sound of the name, and stalked off without a word. He poked his head through a curtain, and then continued off into the dark recesses of a hallway in the back. An apprentice came out, chipper as anything, and after a startled look at Roggan’s ‘stone lollipop,’ asked us what he could do for the group. Cava asked what Venner had against Greminor, and asked if we could sell some wizard jars. The attendant apologized for the gruffness, but professional rivalry, you understand. He wouldn’t be able to buy any of the jars, as it was Venner that was in charge of new acquisitions. The problem was that Cava had offended him, and he wouldn’t help him.

So, Cava went outside to wait while Overkill and Roggan tried their hands at negotiating sales. While they were waiting to be attended, Roggan saw Overkill’s beard, as if for the first time – silver, white and a few specks of red. He couldn’t stop looking at it, and grabbed for it. Overkill was distracted, watching what was going on with the alchemist and his apprentice, so he didn’t notice that Roggan turned patches of his beard to Fool’s Gold, as if Overkill had beads and bangles woven into it.

The Apprentice brought his master out, and Roggan rushed for him. He stuck out his stone staff, and asked, ‘What this do?’ It has been quite a while since he got his staff, and every opportunity he has had to find out what it does he has forgotten to ask. Not this time. I guess it just took a garden full of earth magic and an endorphin induced high to jog his brain.

‘Oh, I haven’t seen one of these in… must be two hundred and fifty years. These used to be all over, but since the wars, and the Duke’s war on magic… Ironic, the duke’s position, seeing as what he has in his garden and the Grand Canal and… Ahem.’ The alchemist got lost in his thoughts and almost forgot why he was gazing upon such a fine specimen of a Staff of Stonelight. ‘So, ah, you’ll be wanting to know what it does, then. This one is rather powerful.’ He gazed into the amber at the top. ‘Hmm… The first spell you can activate is a Globe of True Sunlight. This is much more powerful than a Globe of Daylight, mind. How many times have you cast it?’ His trained eyes roved the contours and faint runes near the top of the haft. He continued talking as his study moved down the length of it. ‘No matter, after you use it ten times you’ll be able to make stones fly out of it and attack your foes.’

His eyes stopped on a group of runes near where he started. He glanced around the shop, saw another customer waiting, and called for his apprentice to come back. He motioned for Roggan and Overkill to accompany him to a back room. When the door was shut, he continued, ‘Then, you’ll be able to turn stone to flesh upon touch.’ His eyes reached the end of the larger runes, ‘And eventually you’ll be able to create a protected area for you and your allies.’

Roggan grabbed his stone staff, and said, ‘Roggan love Roggan stone staff!’ He started to cradle it, and became unresponsive. Overkill spoke up, and started into talking about the wizard jars. Unfortunately for him, he made the mistake of mentioning Greminor, too. He was expulsed, and the only thing that saved Roggan from being kicked out, and thereby losing the group their chance at selling their wares, was a quick, ‘Roggan heard of Greminor, but Venner greatest alchemist in the world that Roggan know.’

Roggan put his stone staff in its cradle, and pulled out the wizard jars he had in his pack. He had taken Tyvernos’ jars, and Cava’s when he was kicked out. Overkill had left his jars with Roggan as well. Roggan started to hand Venner jar after jar of strange and valuable things. Roggan’s jars were some of the least valuable, and he took away fifty-one thousand gold by himself. He convinced Venner to allow his friends to come back, and by the time the alchemist had assessed the value of the jars, and had paid the adventurers for them, a drunken Gavin and exhausted Tyvernos showed up. As a parting gift, Roggan gave one of his wooden elemental symbols to Venner, turned temporarily into fool’s gold. Don’t blame him; he does it out of ignorance, not malice. The sun had set while they were talking with Venner, and Roggan had to activate the Globe of True Sunlight as they left the shop in the now-empty Bazaar

The Duke’s Son

As the group made their weary way to Nicole, Cava noticed a commotion on our boat. The startled CrIsis ran to the elevator, and waited impatiently for it to get to the bottom. Figures clad in red, and a flailing grey mass could be seen in the distance, as well as the faint cries of Terramore barely audible over the distant sounds of battle. Cava activated his flight ring, and picked Roggan up. The poor Trog was out of his mind with worry, I don’t think he even noticed he was flying over the docks. All he could say was ‘Gina Stop! Listen to Gleby!’

The golem quieted down, to Terramore’s relief. ‘Terramore Gleba, you are under arrest. Whose… uh… is this?’ A man robed in a Llornian uniform demanded from his horseback. ‘You, Lizard, it must be yours as it obeyed that… gibberish. You and your friends are under arrest, too.’ The officer motioned for a few of the guards still standing to put us in manacles. There were several guards on the ground, three of whom were motionless. Roggan started to plea for his fellows, but having just yelled at Gina in elemental, it all came out in an earthy rumble to the ears of the guards.

Cava spoke over Roggan, and said, ‘We have healers among us. Please, let us attend to your wounded and see if we cannot bring back those taken by our Golem’s over zealotry.’ The officer allowed for Tyvernos to approach the three dead, and after working his magic, two of them opened their eyes.

Tyvernos explained to Roggan that these guards do not understand Elemental. He spoke to him on his level in such a way that Roggan’s mind was opened to languages, and spoke in perfect Elven to the captain of the guard, ’Hail and well met, honorable captain! I am Roggan, the Earth Warlock, and these are my friends and travel companions. We are members of the illustrious CrIsis, and are on a quest to save all of Palladium. If you keep us in these manacles, we will not be able to go, and our plans will be thwarted. Please good sirs, let us free. If you do not recognize my name, it is I that helped the Llornian guard capture that fell cutpurse not ten hours past. It would be a crime against the publick as well, were I to be detained."

‘Ah yes. Roggan. Thank you for your help, we have been looking for you. Thanks to you, we were able to take down the Theives’ Guild (see? told ya). Your name will be proclaimed through the city, though that might be bad for you and your group, as there are quite a few disgruntled theives afoot. Release them, men. THURGOOD!‘ The captain yelled for Thurgood, who came out of the shadows, staring down his hook nose, with his cheecks pinched up the sides of it in a sneer. He would have a different expression if he had seen the pictures Roggan drew of him. And CrIsis would be in manacles. We explained to Gina she needs to give the guards access to the boat. She seemed to understand, but there’s always a chance golems and elementals interpret instructions in a diametrically oposing ways to the intentions.
As we came upon Lord Amhar, son of Duke VasPasseon’s house, Roggan whispered to me, ‘Bluto! Roggan not see colors anymore. Colors go away. And Roggan pants not feel the same.’ To which I would have told him that he’s just ‘come down’ and there was nothing to worry about. The mansion had three storeys, and had a grand staircase in the foyer. We walked through the grand doors, and saw twelve men on horseback through a door off the marbled hall. We were brought before them.

The eldest among them clopped forward and said, ‘Thank you, Sir Thurgood. You are… excused.’ Thurgood’s sneer curdled momentarily, and he stormed back into the foyer, with escorts. The kindly look on the old officer’s face contrasted with his tone as he spat, ‘CrIsis! You are USURPERS, and CHALLENGERS to all Thrones! Cava especially, you are known to us. You are enemies of all those that rule the peoples of the Eastern Kingdom and Palladium.’

Bolstered by the Old Man’s speech, the youngest of them trotted forward, dressed as a Llornian Lancer. Glaring down at the footed accused, he whispered venomously, ‘You insulted me; you insulted all of the leaders of eastern territory. I know not what magicks you gave my father, but I will not pray to any of them! Your silver tongues will not affect me. I am stronger than he and demand recompense! All of you must kneel before me and apologize profusely for insulting my honor and name. I am Amhar, son of the Duke of Llorn.’

The five adventurers met his demands with a silence. Gavin reminded everyone telepathically to ‘Mind your place when royalty is present.’ From my vantage point in Roggan’s pack, I saw Overkill’s face match his famous name.

Cava was the first one to speak up, ‘My Lord, I assure –‘

‘My Lord who?’ Amhar demanded.

Irritation flashed through Cava’s expression, and lingered in his tone, ‘My Lord Amhar. I assure you that my words were not meant towards you. They were directed to others. I-‘

‘So you agree with me, that Wolfen should be killed, they are heathen beasts, and are nothing like the noble Human race.’ Amhar interrupted.

‘I did not say that.’

‘So you do not agree with me, and you were insulting everyone in that pointless summit. Just another of ‘Bishop’ Rose’s lackeys. That woman is too soft to lead, and no doubt sent you to overthrow the great dutchy of Llorn! Thurgood informed me of your enchantment of my father, that you did not apologize at all. He witnessed the fruits of your underhanded dealings –‘

Roggan indignantly spoke up, proclaimed that Thurgood is lying, for we did nothing of the sort, and that he personally apologized to the Duke on behalf of CrIsis, as far as he has right to. ‘Roggan like Dookie.’ Cava asked of his proof, and Amhar admitted that Thurgood didn’t claim to have been in the chambers, and that he merely saw us after our meeting, and assumed it must have been magic. Cava told him that he was thereby claiming false witness, speaking of things he had no proof on, and we should be released.

Amhar called for Thurgood to be brought forward, and he entered, almost sheepishly. Cava confronted our accuser, and the sniveling rat bolted. Sir Lugard, the old officer, apologized to CrIsis on behalf of Amhar, and called for horsemen to be sent after Thurgood. Two broke off from the group, and the rest dismounted. ‘Wait here, we’ll return shortly.’ He told us on his way out the door, and up the grand stair. The rest followed suit, even Amhar, who strode past us without as much as a glance.

An almost interminable time later, Sir Luggard came back down the stairs and met a group at the doors. He returned to the room with Thurgood, escorted by two knights and… ‘DOOKIE!’ Roggan called, waiving energetically. After no response was given, he said again, ‘HI, DOOKIE!’

‘Muzzle your lizard.’ He told the leader, Cava, who is such in not just title. ‘You, Gavin of CrIsis, are under arrest. For murdering innocent guards of Llorn. The words that CrIsis says are untrue. You are ALL under arrest for enchanting the Duke.’ Guards surrounded the emmisaries of the gods, and I am surprised that they weren’t running for the hills. Troglodytes are very gentle and loving creatures, and aren’t very scary – that is until they are angry. There are few natural creatures that are scarier than an angry, attacking Trog. Gavin disappeared, and Roggan, oblivious to the world, started to channel the elemental flows of earth, and cried to Apis in Elemental, ‘Cow Lady, give Roggan strength! Roggan stop bad men. Em Eloi a Vidaeterna!’

The Duke was focused on Cava, though, and . He started to lay into him for not knowing where Gavin went, and for being the fiend he ‘had to be.’ Apis touched Roggan’s heart, and instead of sinking half of Llorn into a burning chasm of molten lava, he exploded in Elven at VonPasseon, ‘NO. DOOKIE. STOP. Dookie listen to Roggan. CrIsis not hate Dookie, not want to hurt Dookie. Crisis love Dookie, Roggan love Dookie. Roggan want to help Dookie do great things, like dookie already do. Crisis ask for forgiveness, and appologize. CrIsis do what CrIsis say, and write apology, Roggan write apology after Roggan leave rock heaven!!! Dookie do what Dookie say, and Let – CrIsis – Leave!’

Taken aback by the outburst from the usually gentle creature, the Duke proclaimed that it was acceptable, that CrIsis leaves the town as soon as their affairs were over, and that if they did not leave willingly, they would be expulsed by force. What he didn’t say at the time was that the exit taxes wouldn’t be waived. CrIsis paid their fees, and were about to set off, when the little Psy-Mage showed up. He had waited till we had left, and it was just the Duke, Luggard, and Amhar. He confronted the duke about the temple of Ra, and brokered a deal for him to allow its production.

Wisdom

We did not breathe freely till after leaving the bay, but no sooner had we exited the waters of Llorn that Tyrone lamented his situation! He has lost money in the services of CrIsis, and time. With the weight of Gina, he hasn’t been able to load his boat with trade goods to offset it. Unfortunately, Roggan was oblivious to all of this.

On the open waters, a Riverboat isn’t the vessel you want. Due to its lightweight design, the rougher waters of the ocean knocked Cava overboard, and he would have drown had Overkill not jumped in to the rescue. The group set up camp at the mouth of the next river, and on Roggan’s watch, his ‘Vision’ identified Fenrir demon wolves stalking toward the camp. This realization snapped Roggan out of the funk he was in, and realized he had seen the same lupine faces stalking along the shore after them since Llorn. As soon as they realized they had been spotted they fled, but CrIsis wouldn’t be caught unprepared again. They knew they were hunted.

3 days passed without major incident along the river, and Nicole arrived in the city of Wisdom. ‘That name… It seems familiar. It is important, it means something.’ Overkill mused as we rounded a bend in the river. Tyvernos, Cava, Gavin and Overkill stewed over it, until almost in unison they blirted ’ELANU!’ Overkill fished the Wanderer’s Ring from his pocket, and Gavin pulled a copy of the letter from his bag. ‘We must go to the Tri-Arcanum Magic Guild.’

Due to exorbitant fees to dock in Wisdom, and to have a Golem, the group decided to moor downstream a mile, and leave a sign for unwary travelers to ‘Beware of Golem!’ We did not want a repeat of Llorn.

The adventurers ask around Wisdom for directions to the Guild, and are met with incredulity. ‘How do you not know? Oh, you’re from out-of-town.’ After a few partially helpful citizens, we were able to piece together a map, and made our way to the tower of the ‘Weavers,’ the part of the guild we assumed Elanu used to belong to. The gamble paid off, as we were ushered into the upper floors upon saying ‘Elanu.’ We were lead into the largest library Roggan had ever laid eyes on. He whispered to me about ‘Mountains of Books.’ And ‘Wakiw would like this place.’ The elderly librarian behind a mountain of books was harder to convince than those downstairs. Luckily we had the Ring. Overkill activated it, and a perfect image of the Starmage appeared. We will have to see what our acquaintance of Elanu does for the plight of CrIsis in this town of scholars and sorcerers…


>>As scrawled by Roggan on Corg 31st in the year 111.<<
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

We have a new player, a Minotaur Wizard from the Baalgor Wastelands. He had never seen a "hooman" before.....



:: Written in Dwarven ::
:: On the parchment shoved in the back of his book ::

To father and mother,

I have found that I have access to a spell that will allow me to send you word of my travels in the world. To safeguard your birth names and my step brother Zeelik I have taken the liberty of using ancient words of the “rough hewn” ( Out of Character Reader’s Note: This one word is written in Elvish and says Dwarf, because that is what elves call them, Xerx’ses will not use the actual dwarven word Dwarves use to refer to themselves as a people ) and find names for you.

Mother I hope you like Darakh’zan for it means luminous and bright. Which is the light I see from both of my fathers when they look at you.

Father I hope you like Ros’tam Stonemace for it means strong, tall, which you most deffinately are. If you or Zeelik have no objection I will honor you by using Goldflail as my surname or clan name like the “rough hewn” have among them. Since you both used Anzuroq Stonemace makes sense for you both. I hope Zeelik is well and doing good deeds I know he will.

Well my first missive has a dire ending with uncertain future. May this one help to clear some things up, even if it raises other questions. Please go through:

A’zad’s old residences = the word of entry is mother’s name. A’zad hoped one day we might join the world once more, I am uncertain now how this will play out.
Where I found my first spell books (hidden in the half crumbled ruins of a dwarven military alchemist lab)
The room where we have kept the art and relics of the past.

Just put them someplace safe as I may have need of them soon. Don’t save any rune weapons for me I think Luur’na, Mergerij, and Zeelik may possess the only ones aligned with the good and the light rather than the darkness hate breeds. If the gods see me fit to carry a lightbringer one day then so be it otherwise I will have this flail committed to memory and always carry it or one like it.

I have heard from another wizard out in the world that there are other Minotaurs that are good! I know of the Serelan Tribe from the trades during the night, but I seem to be far from home and we may not be alone. I am getting ahead of myself.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I was being sent to aid a group known as CrIsis to help bring my lord Osiris back from the twilight lands of Anubis, to the realms of Sun Lord, Ra. When She-of-Countless-Names raised her hand I was sent from the Realm of the Gods to where she needed me. Having been rejected by She-of-Countless-Names as a good creature or one that could be good. He tone was unmistakable for she has no faith our people can be redeemed for our ancestors sins. I found myself wondering why help someone that clearly wanted my species to be a footnote in history. I decided thusly: A lady whom has done countless good deeds asked for my help and whom am I really if I would not answer that call and provide aid even when I may be put to the hazard.

When Darkness faded I was on top of a tower that had a ceiling but no walls I could discern! Those in front of me were:

An aged elf which reminded me of A’zad.
a Dwarf by his stout stature and size.
a Gnome! They are not all dead, amazingly, and yes, they are shorter than the Dwarf people!
a Troglodyte, I did not expect to see one on the surface!
I don’t know what to call the last of the two before me but they look like mis-shappen elves! After knowing about the destruction of the Baalgor Forest it’s not a great surprise that some elves may have been scarred by the war of the Fair and the Strong. It looked like these mis-shappen elves were a father and child.

It seems wherever I am my race’s past deeds proceeded me and everyone prepared weapons! I felt magic come at me but I was able to resist it. I held out my fist displaying the Ring of the Eternal Torch given to me by She-of-Countless-Names, knelt before them and said, “I am here to serve.” When I lowered my gaze to the floor I realized that for those on the surface I or Minotaurs were still the enemy. When queried by the group I explained I was Xerx’ses and that I was a wizard.

Without warning the group was attacked by the aged elven wizard in some kind of opaque bubble that began closing in on all of us! Unsure what to do I yelled for the wizard to take me and leave the others alone. If I was going to die I wasn’t going to condemn anyone else to this fate. I was surprised when the Gnome said he would vouch for me, and apparently something about his lineage made the elf mage pause and release us.

Upon releasing us I was further questioned and I showed the Dwarf, Master Overkill, my flail and spoken in the Dwarf tongue, and I learned my dialect was considered ancient. When I showed him the flail of prayers my stepfather, Ros’tam Stonemace, had made me; I recited the prayers in engraved on the heads of the bronze flail in the same dwarf speak. Master Kel-ed, the aged elf mage, approached me upon hearing my recitation of the prayer without a hitch.

While everyone seemed to have a hard time believing I was raised in the lost Fortress Etrinan, what I said and the engravings on the flail heads made them think there may be something to what I said. I then took off an ancient dwarf necklace which had Osiris’s symbol embedded in clear amber that I wore to show my alligence to Osiris the Lawgiver. Upon his review of the necklace, Master Overkill, swore a blood oath to the elf mage of the tower. He swore that he would not leave my side and he returned my belongings! After they pricked their fingers and made the oath they two hugged each other!

AN ELF AND DWARF HUGGED EACH OTHER IN FRIENDSHIP!!!

I did not say it out loud but I praised Osiris that such a time was witnessed by my eyes! If two races (one of whom was among the races that faced off against the Lords of Chaos) that nearly destroyed the world could find common ground their was hope for me. I will never expect Isis to accept me and now I have to assume that none of the Gods of Light will accept me. I will continue to offer my prayers to the Lawgiver in hopes that world becomes a better place. If I can lend a hand to help make that world better place, then that is my fate. Find the right words for Zeelik because if I ever saw a hero it is my step brother, I want him to be warned but I don’t want to diminish his noble zeal.

After that embrace the elf mage, Ka’led asked, ‘How can the Tri-Arcanum Guild assist CrIsis?’

The Troglodyte, whom refers to himself as Roggan asked for further training as a warlock. This also perked the Gnome’s interest as they both appear to study the mystical arts of Elementalism. Hoping to gain allies by joining a guild that seems to have at least one member accepting me. I asked Master Kel-ed if I could join the guild, and he didn’t say no! Apparently, my race is used to scare children into being good and most other races talk about us being extinct as a species! With that the group decided it might be advantageous if they all join the guild! I stayed quiet as I was unsure how to proceed for these people (even the ugly looking elves) acted like good folk from my tribe.

Decent and caring.

We were told to wait a day for the elemental head of the Tri-Arcanum, Master Wesvon, to be informed there were members of his arts wishing to join the guild. There was some talk about Master Wesvon being old enough to have been warrior at the tail end of the war between the Fair and the Strong. I am not sure I believe it but in any regard he must be aged and wise enough such tales abound regarding the Warlock. Master Overkill and I shared a room because of the oath and I am afraid I was a poor roommate as we did not speak much and he slept. I woke early and ran through the 24 prayers (eight of them each engraved on one of the flail heads), while the good dwarf slept errr snored through the dawn hours.

I used the cleansing spell upon myself so my sweat from yesterday would not let those I met to hate based on stench alone.

We were brought the council of the Tri-Arcanum guild they called forth for any practitioners of the Mystic Sciences and I stepped forward stating I was a Wizard. This gathered murmurs and shocked looks. I was accused within the first few minutes of being a worshiper of the Old Ones. I began looking around and asked the group of ugly elves and not so ugly elves where the worshiper was since I worshiped Osiris the Lawgiver. Then the unbelievable happened, Master Kel-ed stood in front of the assembled guild members and said, “This minotaur bears the Ring of Isis and the blessing of the gods, he is no worshiper of the Old Ones and any that accuse him must first face and accuse me of worshiping them!” Master Overkill also made a passionate stand for my defense and I have known them a merely a day, I do not know how I have been deemed worthy of such trust but I will not break it.

There was a power to his voice and he went on to state something about the Gnome, Tyvernos’, parentage that seemed to set the guild back. Have you ever heard of the Defilers? Why on Palladium would anyone want to be known as the child of a Defiler? That sounds pretty harsh, maybe the gnomes have become practitioners of the Dark Arts since the war of the Fair and the Strong?

The aged elf mage then was happy to help me find a teacher for some additional spell knowledge. As I was walking away the good gnome and the aged elf mage were getting into a boisterous argument over whether Wizardry or Warlock power was stronger. If Master Wesvon of the Elementalists approved his admittance then the challenge would commence! Gnomes these days seemed far more angry than the tales tell of them.

It would seem most elves that survived the war of the Fair and the Strong have been so scarred their descendants do not even have the same ears (more rounded), eyes, and just act like a different race altogether! They are everywhere in the tower, the poor creatures! The spell I learned over the next 3 days was how to see the invisible around us.

Also, during this time the good Gnome and the Troglodyte discovered a fiend of the hells hiding as a statue within the guild hall walls! They made it flee this plane and I was very surprised to see the quality of companions I would be joining. When we came before the council again there were quite a few seats empty but the majority of the council was present. We were each presented with a scroll in a language no one could read. I decided I needed to borrow Thoth’s eyes for his wisdom would allow me to understand any cryptic verse. Once the spell was cast I saw the quest and task we were to be set upon for our admittance since the fee was waived and we had people willing to vouch for us.

“…Worship only the Gods of Light,
serve only the Gods of Light…”

I pricked my finger and signed in my blood. When I had the chance to speak with Master Kel-ed I told both he and Master Overkill my true name and thanked them profusely for the honor they have shown me. The guild welcomes us and the group looks up and they apparently saw Ra! Yes Ra, Lord of light sitting among the wizards. I did not see him, nor did the wizards, but I’m not surprised, I am helping because it is the right thing to do. However, I know people willing to die for the gods may not be in short supply but those willing to do this and be capable of completing the task before CrIsis must be a much smaller number. I must be one of the last scraps of food on a plate they go looking for when the Gods of Light can find no one else. Please don’t let Zeelik feel this sting, if you do then harden him against the hate of ages and let him shoulder the sins of the past as I must now.

When we tried to leave and I stepped out into a whole city of scarred elves (by the lawgiver they are everywhere), those nearest to me screamed out…

“Old Ones!!! run!!!!!!!!”

I cast an Invisibility spell and stepped back inside and the group talked with Kel-ed about a way to make me blend in. It took another 5 hours but I was given a talisman that disappeared along with me! I will study this amulet since I do not understand how it functions. With a disguise in place we left to go meet King Hafton of Wisdom! Oh I can’t wait this noble elf brings me hope that those that strive to the light may meet people such as King Hafton! The walk to the castle was slow because I had to follow the group to avoid kicking one of the ugly elves. They remind me of herd silonars they are everywhere and speak some tongue I do not understand in this city called Wisdom. Every now and then I can hear bits of Elvish tongue, all I can gather is that I am in a realm called Wisdom in lands in the east. I maybe be east of the New Kingdom but I cannot be sure since our knowledge of beyond the wastelands is limited at best.

With Master Kel-ed’s help we reach Hafton Palace and I take great care to not bump into, step on anyone as I make my way in with the group. Per my keeper’s request I make sure I keep tapping or my hand on his shoulder. The monarch appears to be of untainted Elven Blood and his palace is right out of stories I read of the tales of the City of Baalgor. I am not going to mention that it resembles a elf Knight’s fief is size and scope rather than a King of the New Kingdom, but the color windows make the light dance in a rainbows inside the hall and all of the architecture blends from one area to the next. It is so fluid like a river I suppose, oh I got to see one of those as well!

King Hafton spoke of another city called “Lorn” and a Duke there he feels is an explample of one’s backside! I can think of a couple people that fit this description. I can think of a couple people that fit this description. It would appear my new comrades had been in said town recently and there is noted fear of a dark presence making the Duke act this way. It would also seem they were chased out of town before the validity of those claims could be ascertained. Hmmm, I am sure we will return there some day. Several times during our meeting I noticed the King look at me directly even though I was invisible to everyone else. The King even came up to me and said, “If a servant of the Old Ones can seek peace and light then I will do the same!”

I dropped my spell and became visible to all which put several palace guards on edge, however, his declaration of seeking peace with a realm called the Wolfen Empire, this seemed to make my companions relieved. I bowed my head and didn’t know what to say, either people saw into my heart and new I strive to be worthy of those that dwell in the light or they ran in fear and disgust.

Soon after this I re-instated the invisibility spell and we left only to meet two friends of the group:

Terramore, an elf
Tyrone, one of the ugly, scarred elves

They informed the group about an attack of Fenry Demon Wolves, over a dozen of them. Thanks to a stone golem the group calls Gina they were able to break away and bring the ship here to Wisdom. The warlock Roggan took this news hard it may be possible that the golem is powered by an elemental essence that Roggan cared for. When we finished with business in town I said a prayer for Gina.

“…Great Ra, Lord of Light, I beseech thee,
Grant the essence of Gina safe passage home to its plane of existence,
through its bond to Roggan so to does it have bond to the Pantheon of Light,
May it be given
Water and soil,
Gem and Crystal,
Sky and flame,
All things that make creation,
and spirits such as Gina may feed upon.

In your name

Amon Ra…"

I know I can’t craft prayers like my birth father, you, or Luur’na but it seemed to inspire Cava the deformed elf to utter words and his were quite better than mine.

After Roggan gathers what he needs he explains that he wishes to transfer his soul into the golem! Several of us try and talk him out of it and I explain to him that this is to similar to how rune weapons are made and those souls are bound for eternity their bodies! It was then both Cava and Overkill drew forth a runic axe and runic sword! I will never escaped these weapons of ancient power it seems, at least I know what I would be getting into. While I never bound or was chosen to wield the Lightbringer staff Saraph that used to belong to my birth father. I talked to it daily and I know it was a staff made before the war of the Fair and the Strong. It was a spirit of light that chose this path and the great lord of all knowledge, Thoth, the wise created the staff and gave it to Isis to bless her followers with. It has known Elf, Dwarf, and now Minotaur owners and saw the complete length of the bloody war between the haughty Elf and unforgiving Dwarf. It seemed they were trying to talk to their rune weapons but were not having a great deal of luck.

When I looked up Roggan was gone and when he return much later the following day he had snuck off and performed the ritual, he had become the 18 ft tall Iron Golem! When I looked up I thought jokingly this must be what being a Dwarf feels like, HA!

Sadly, mother, the rest of my time here in Wisdom was less exciting, I gave all my gold to help repair a boat owned by the group I know I would upon and use soon. The group purchased medallions allowing me to turn into something called a “Hooman” twice turn of Ra’s gave for a half of an hourglass each time. Well adventure awaits I have companions and we embark on a quest I can only imagine about.

Your son,
Xerx’ses Goldflail

>> Written by Xerx’ses,
Wizard of the Golden Flail on Selestra 5th in the year 111.<<
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by kiralon »

Keep up the good work, i am enjoying the read.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

kiralon wrote:Keep up the good work, i am enjoying the read.

Thanks kiralon! Lots more on the Obsidian Portal site, in my signature!
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

We lost a player this last game, Roggan, the Earth Warlock, who sacrificed himself to become one with the group's ship and save the rest of the group. A tremendous example of self-sacrifice- here is Cava's (the ranger) account, "Death Awaits Us All"

Roggan has gone.

Well, not exactly gone. He’s still with us, but he’s no longer the goofy, lovable, eye-licking troglodite I came to love and respect, and I will miss that Roggan greatly.

I was so annoyed with him when he turned himself into that iron giant, thinking to make himself into some kind of superman…

No, make that supertrog.

…some kind of supertrog that could protect the group both physically and magically without considering the impact a 20 foot iron golem would have on the group’s travel arrangements, nor the effect he would have on those we encountered on our way.

Not trusting us to be able to protect ourselves or any innocents who may stand in need.

Bah. This is neither here nor there.

We had arranged for concealing magics to disguise his appearance and were trying to figure out how he could travel fast enough to keep up with Nicole, when Ra peremptorily announced we were wasting our time, and returned us to Haven. Straight onto Matilda’s deck, in fact.

We took the hint, and journeyed straightaway to the Library of Bletherad to gather information for our next excursion.

As we approached the library after docking the ship, an imp appeared before us. It begged for its life, then threatened ours, before disappearing again with a puff of sulfur.

Clearly, the events at the stone tower had offended Ratel, who intended to kill us on 3 Corg next.

I guess Ratel’s schedule is so cluttered that it will take him(?) a year to clear the backlog and get around to us.

Anyway, the library.

Apis’s love child caused a bit of a stir there, initially because he was the first minotaur to appear at the library in several hundred years, but when he mentioned the name of some ancient library, the librarian immediately whisked him away before we could find out where they were going.

This was nothing, however, compared to the disturbance Roggan caused when he tried to enter. Magic is somehow nullified in the library, and the librarians were convinced that he would fall apart the instant he went inside.

I tried to explain the situation to Roggan, and he seemed to understand, but insisted on entering the library despite the risk.

I eventually had to sign a waiver saying it was our own fault if he died before he was allowed in, but in he went regardless and…

Nothing happened.

Bit anticlimactic, really. All that excitement, then… nothing.

So Roggan went on his merry way to research…

I dunno, rocks? Probably something to do with rocks.

…and I went on to keep an eye on Gavin, and help him look stuff up.

After several days of searching the library by day and returning to the ship at night to discuss what we had learned and speculate about Xerx’ses conspicuous absence, Malkin shows up one night, out of breath and babbling about minotaurs, seed libraries, and insisting we travel to the Baalgor Wastelands immediately to investigate.

Perhaps the cow-boy had caused more excitement than I had initially supposed.

Presently, Xerx’ses had returned, and we finally got around to learning about him. As he described how he learned the secrets to magic in an ancient Dwarven library, I noticed the elf bard grow steadily more more agitated. The mere thought of the Dwarves having once been masters of magic was more than he could bear.

After all we had done! After all we had seen! At every hand, we have witnessed the folly of this kind of knee-jerk, blinkered thinking! Lemaria! Bizantium! The “peace accords” at Haven! He knew what we had gone through, what we stood for! Had he learned nothing?!

How can he possibly be unaware of the greatest, most glaring testiment to the evils of prejudice the world has ever known: the Elf-Dwarf War and the atrocities committed by each side!

The Gods themselves have demonstrated the stupidity of his attitude when they selected monsters to join us! Eandroth! Danzi! And most unexpected of all, a minotaur! A member of THE race that’s known for its worship of the Old Ones is now a member of CrIsis!

After all this, he can’t handle the simple fact that dwarves used to use magic?!

This was ridiculous!

“Oh, grow up!” I said, and we were off to the races.

He flew into my face and began to accuse me of all manner of things, from ingratitude to world-building, before threatening to turn his pen against me.

“You must do as you see fit,” I said calmly, and he stormed off the ship, followed quickly by Gavin.

I am ungrateful? To him? The weasely little bastard!

I didn’t ask this two-bit, stuck-up wannabe wordsmith to join us, that was his idea; I was against it!

I certainly never asked him to say a single thing about me, or anyone else in the group, for that matter!

It’s not like we even need him! We already have a chronicler: the great Rod Rambler himself!

He is the worst sort of fighter. He is rash and impulsive, often diving into battle without a second thought, causing us to have to enter harm’s way in order to pull his stick-filled butt out of the fire he so negligently threw himself into!

We have talked to him about this, and he has refused to change!

“Tactics? What are tactics? What do you mean we can fight more effectively if we coordinate our efforts?”

He has been nothing but a pompous, short-sighted, irritating danger to those around him!

And to top it all off, we gave him a full stake in the group’s finances, so he has been paid to annoy us and put our lives in jeopardy! Well paid!

Ungrateful, indeed!

Eventually, he calmed down and rejoined us on the ship, but I am done making an effort to be friendly to this blowhard. He is incapable of seeing the Light, and it is not my responsibility to make him.

We decided that night to journey to the Baalgor Wastelands to make contact with Xerx’ses’s library, and collect whatever Pieces of Osiris we could along our way, and with this in mind, we set off once again.

After several weeks of travel, with nothing more worrisome than some pirates, sharks, and minor sea serpents, we were attacked by some kappa who damaged the ship so heavily that she began to list to the starboard. As I prepared to attack, I noticed Roggan holding on to the mast for dear life.

I took my eyes off him for one second, and he was gone. I tried looking for him, as something that big couldn’t fall overboard without making an extremely noticeable splash.

But there was no splash.

There was no Roggan.

No nothing.

Suddenly the kappa were gone, frightened off by the ship as she began to heal herself.

Just as Roggan had put himself into that ridiculous iron body, so too had he put himself into the ship.

I’m not sure how to feel about this, especially as the only person he’s “talked” to has been that fat-headed blowhard who considers himself a poet.

Posted by Cava on 23 Selestra, Dominion 342.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

So with all the changes in the group I have decided it is time for an NPC change as well. CrIsis, the player group, has had a NPC bard with them from Bizantium all the way to the Yin Sloth Jungles, and he has now chosen to depart. So here is the last log of Terramore Gleba (yes, named in honor of Carl), entitled Turn of the King

Gavin is the King of Timiro! I am at a loss for words, and since many of these words must be private, I shall endeavor to work through my thoughts through my journal.

It all began on the 22nd of Selestra. As the sun began to set, and we began preparations to lay the sea anchor for the night, out of thin air we all heard the voice of our perished CrIsis member, Roggan! When he became part of Matilda he did not lose sentience it appears! He spoke mostly to Cava, but all of us could hear. Cava asked what he could do, and he replied, “Remember big tree in river? Roggan do that if mean ships are close.” We are on a ship that can rot wood! I asked what Roggan wanted to be called, and suggested the name Rogtilda, and he replied that was ok. Mighty Rogtilda can heal itself as well! It was eerie feeling the ship reverberate with the former troglodyte’s voice- but it was good to know that Roggan had triumphed over Anubis, and kept his soul. It seems it takes much effort for Rogtilda, for he stated that he could communicate only briefly, for mere minutes, twice per day. I could not imagine being robbed of the ability to communicate vocally- it would torture my soul!

Later that evening, while the noble paladin Sir Quixis and I held watch, there were great peals of thunder, seemingly from within Rogtilda! We went to investigate, and Cava revealed that Gavin had disappeared! He left a simple note, reading only King Gedro. He even left behind his monkey! Cava also said that the thunder came from visitations from Ra himself! Ra had released Cava from guardianship of Gavin, and said it was time for Gavin to face his destiny! I called for an immediate raising of anchor, despite the hour, to assist Gavin in Credia immediately, but CrIsis felt it was in the hands of the Gods, so we waited until morning. Cava seemed particularly aggravated with me for some unknown slight, and all of CrIsis seemed to wish me to be silent, so I resolved to not interfere, just observe.

Upon landing at Credia’s docks, I immediately noticed that the familiar Lance and Shield of good King Gedro had been replaced by a new symbol- a cross between the Flail of Anubis and the Red Fist of Manus! However, since CrIsis made it clear they did not wish my input unless spoken to, I kept silent. A kind dock worker let us all know that much had changed, and that the formerly good King had been acting of the dark as of late. After much information about the evils that were being consummated, we were told that the King was about to make a speech. All of CrIsis and I went to hear it, with the newest member, the Minotaur Xerx’ses turning into a hawk. He appears to truly be a wizard of considerable power.

Arriving in the back of the courtyard, I noted the new symbol on palace guards, upon the walls, and flying over the castle itself. Shortly after arrival the king began to speak. Rather than record the whole speech (which I have released myself to the lands of Palladium already), I shall just say that it is most admirable of King Gedro to set aside lands for those that assisted him in the defeat of his enemies. While the speech commenced, the offensive uniforms, and those wearing them, were systematically removed. Much fanfare proceeded when the lance and shield flag was returned to the ramparts, as well as when the skull of poor Skred Uryte was replaced with the monster Manus’ head. After the speech, Cava found a guard and was rebuked in his attempt to seek an audience with the King, but with his typical dogged determination found someone who knew of the awesomeness of CrIsis to be let into the castle. I, for my part, still kept silent, although I have personally performed for King Gedro in the past.

We were eventually greeted by Ondemeira the White, who gave me a slight glance, and I shook my head in the negative. She greeted all of CrIsis, and welcomed them. She pointedly ignored me, for which I was grateful. This is their stage, not my own. She brought us all up to the King, who cleared the room except for us and Ondemeira. He stated he was pleased to see us, as Cava blurted out a demand to hear of the last hours of Gavin. Upon this statement he smiled, and brought us down to the catacombs below the city.

Here I shall try to make a long story short- the King was actually the changeling Gavin in Gedro’s guise! He told us that playing the King was his greatest role. We had a party, it just so happened that all of the city was invited. All but Xerx’ses attended- he could only hold his magic for a limited time. Finally arriving back at Matilda, we found a new member of CrIsis waiting for us, along with Xerx’ses and good Sir Quixis- an elf named Azariel. Exhausted, we all chose to talk to him in the morning.

On the next morn, CrIsis decided that I was an errand boy. ‘Fetch us a map of the Yin Sloth Jungles Terramore.’ So, being the ever faithful servant, I set out upon my appointed task. Meanwhile I assume that Azariel had one of the famous fireside chats- I guess my input is no longer required. I went from place to place, checking in with King Gedro/Gavin first. He told me that he was to be leaving to check the front lines of the battlefield- the rest is between the new king and myself. I will miss him, for he was bright and respected all, regardless of race. CrIsis will be sorely hurt with his loss. Ondemeira greeted me warmly as well, and we endeavored together to find the best maps of the Yin Sloth. I filled her in on my travels, keeping CrIsis’ secrets private. She, being of the Light, did not press.

After a day of search I found 3 fine maps, for which I paid much of my personal funds, and cashed in a favor. It is the least I can do for the great CrIsis. Upon returning I was told that the maps were inadequate! Inadequate? So CrIsis went off to find their own maps, and I chatted with Sir Quixis, catching him up on all that had transpired with Gavin. Poor man, no one had informed him of anything. It must be quite boring to protect Rogtilda- a fine Paladin such as Quixis deserves more- but who am I to question the Gods and CrIsis?

I did finally spend some time with Azariel that evening, and I like his humor and his attitude. He shared a funny moment from the “fireside chat”- seems that when he told CrIsis that he learned circle magic Overkill responded by saying, “I learned to poop.” He also asked me to detail CrIsis strengths and weaknesses, which I gladly did. It was nice to feel valued again. The next day Azariel showed his expertise in making circle magic, inscribing, with the help of another summoner, protection circles around the ship.

We then journeyed onward, with little conversation directed at me. I spent my days watching for dangers, and my watches in chats with Quixis. I have decided to concentrate my new studies on those races that have served in CrIsis that I have learned little- Changelings, Troglodytes, Danzi, Eandroth, and Centaur, as well as Dragons. Hopefully it will add insight.

The only true danger we faced on our trip to the Jungles were some Kappa. I dove into the water, prepared to show off my new Swim as a Fish ring capabilities- unfortunately this time they chose to board the ship. This meant they were dispatched with haste- I saw Tyvernos fry a few with the Fulmination of Greminor before they climbed over the side.

We arrived in Cyclone. I have always wanted an opportunity to explore and tell about the Federation of Giants- this is my chance. I will not be accompanying CrIsis into the jungle- I was visited by one of the goddesses releasing me from CrIsis. I was able to at least get one last battle against the Pantheon of Taut before leaving CrIsis- 11 Shedim challenged CrIsis in the name of Anubis! I took a blow, but dealt some as well. I also saw that Azariel was struck- I hope the Gods and the Books warned you of the danger you will face, good Elf.

Now if only I could remember what the punishment for fighting in Cyclone is…. I am sure we are about to find out.

Another adventure awaits! Fare thee well CrIsis, wherever you may fare! You shall always have my undying gratitude, support, and love!



Written in his private journal by Terramore Gleba on the 1st of Ra in the 22nd year of Emperor Voelkian Itomas II.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

Been a while since I have posted a log from the most colorful poster, the gnome Tyvernos. Anyone that feels his dog is in direct contact with Bennu, at all times, needs a listen to occasionally, so here you go.
From our game on the 25th of May.


"Bungle in the Jungle Bunghole"


Oric,, my friend, it has been far too long since my last missive. These damnable pigeons appear to have flown to this rambling rod fellow instead of your humble abode in Avramstown. I suspect Otto has been furtively undermining my efforts with the winged messengers and subversively whispering the sweet nectar of fowl sedition in their avian ears. The attar of the gods is honey to their ears and milk to their hearts. The Phoenix shall descend even as she rises again. We are, once again, on pigeoning-terms. My devotion to CrIsis has only been surpassed by the Bismarck’s devotion to Bennu. Her trust slips further from my grasp, dangled before my salivating tongue like the Osirian member that so shamelessly dangles from my slimmer inner thigh heaven. A dangling carrot, marred only by a uvula’s dangling participle hung like a wanton pendulum to undulate and gyrate and ululate with the caterwaul’s cacophonous cry! Vestigial sylph shades — Paracelsian on the currents of elemental air — or the Fulminations will dine, tonight, as we did so long ago…on the pitter-patter of my wee heart…in its wee cavity…for a wee eternity.
Cry havoc and let loose Aleph Prime the Cardinal of Transfinite Induction and the Axiom of Choice!!!!

I’m the man in the box. Won’t you come and save me? Or at least post my bail. Here I sit, broken-hearted, came to **** but only farted. I find myself composing this avian-missive in the cell of my incarceration. The natural laws my only governing body — owing allegiance to the natural order — we await arraignment like the censured Cyclopean child. Upbraided and degraded. Dogs, wild and untamed, with our noses shoved in ****. The practices of civilized men drive me further from gnostic society and into the arms of a warlock’s wilderness of unbridled faith-fueled devotion. Forgive me my friend, this is the time to stop being polite and to start being real. I do hope our correspondence can continue uninterrupted. My cell-mates turned soul-mates look longingly at my prayer, bent-over-Bennu, and prey to rise and shine and give my gods their glory. Perhaps why I can only fart.

I met a musician today. The Bizantine Philharmonic misses him sorely but CrIsis has put him to good use in replacing our former bardiche. Oh Oric! Would that the blues had been invented! The black and blues that resonate soundly from my posterior petard…a postilion postiche! <whisper> Quite the opposite of a mustache — it’s all the rage in the Cyclopean brothels!

Of which I profess to know next to little and little to none. The Bismark has accompanied me on one-too-many incriminated adventure and…well, suffice to say the Gigantes lass resembles a long-tailed cat long in the tooth of long-teeth combs on my Gnomish Saint Bernard Petard! Cava refuses to break my poor little heart but I suspect my illicit activities in soliciting floss from the giantess factored the primacy of preeminent primarily into our incarceration.

And before I knew it we set off for the Yin Slowth Jungles! But not before CrIsis embraced the opportunity to “gear-up” and resupply for the long journey. I wisely used this time to finish my avian bird flew to your, Oric. Cava and OverKill Coral had the rationing under control. When there are too many kings and not enough of the exploited proletariat the chain of command goes to pot. Tyvernos Oriflamme, herald of the heavens and commander of the greatest preternatural forces to have ever shaken the very earth we eat, sleep, breathe, and ****…is not to proud to admit that he will gladly follow the ranger in matters of land navigation and wilderness survival. Offhandedly, I remember the giants, cyclops, orcs, kobolds, humans, and all manner of diverse, variegated population accepting us without qualm. The next morning our weapons were returned to us and we were reminded not to take any more aggressive actions. To think that defending ourselves against Shedim — the wholesale slaughter of demonic creatures — led to this dastardly misunderstanding warms the cockles of my heart! And all along I had presumed the worst! I still need to see Father O’Malley for a prayer of Cure Disease when I finally return. Liberation from the gulag! Emancipation from the hoosegow! HAIL TO THE KING, BABY!!!!!!

Terramore took his leave of CrIsis; the gods have called him away and repurposed him. We faced a balmy 80 degree day with a warm sea breeze with a quixotic Quixis Ote in full battle regalia as the bardic replacement. Personally, I didn’t see the “tag” but, as I understand it, Terramore cooed ‘bout the “slap heard ’round the world.” No sooner than we welcomed Quixis were we informed of Rogtilda’s new ability to manifest a defender whilst in port. These two facts appeared to be related…somehow. The scions of the gods were ready to leave — we had are antediluvian map, and Sir Quixis, and even some strange metallic contraptions designed to buoy us should a quickly-sanded fate befall us. I believe this might have been the suggestion of a Rahu-man guide named Tittycockaaah but I can’t be certain. His Cyclonic accent was strange for my Northern ears to decipher. Also, at about this time, Cava met a lovely new assistant named Eeyjahanah. She is an elven mind mage and appeared out of nowhere, without a CrIsis ring, and utterly devoted to “master” Cava…all of which is suspect.

Titikackla worships Kim Narc Maher! Cousin of bill and cause for caution. We spoke to a Jotan giant to get a map and a reference. I spent the day in another house of ill-repute. Cava obtained 29 lightning arrows (that should ease my work-load some). A Cyclops smith made the frame crate things.

Then…

Oh by gosh by golly! It’s time for BUNGLE-TOW and Holly! A Halfling wearing a CrIsis decoder ring appeared out of nowhere! We used the evening to rest up and have our fireside shat with Bugle and left for the Yin Sloth on the morning of the 9th.

Before we knew it Tittycockaaah found a tooth and everyone had to move silently, like chameleons, through the thick jungle flora. GASP! TEZCAT!!!!! Living breathing poisonous and carnivorous PLANT LIFE!!! I lit up the forest with a little Chain Lightning and fried me up some silky smooth sauteed weeds! The next few days transpired in a disjointed, anachronistic fashion. I wouldn’t know it until after I recovered but I had apparently come down with a raving lunatic’s form of heat exhaustion syndrome — also known as Jungle Fever. The next thing I remember is fighting off rodents of extremely unusual size! Fending them off and fighting for our lives was second-nature to the Saint Bernard. Furry bedraggled beast! In the next flash of bellicose brilliance we were fighting giant, man-eating toad-frogs! The primitive tribe of jungle junkies were so hopped-up on Hopplites they didn’t notice HOPPITUS, BUNGLE’S LONG LOST COUSIN!!!! Clearly a brother from another mother.

! ! ! H u z z a h ! ! !

All of a sudden we hard a large beast crashing through the underbrush! An Oliphaunt was charging right at us! Then some unseen thievery purloined the ring right off of OKC’s pudgy little ******. I believe the invisible burglars also absconded with a toothpick from the bull. OK Coral, in a fit of fleet-footed rage, found himself quickly sinking in a quickly-silted sieve of sand! Cava’s ring replaced my ability to bestow Fly as the Eagle on my compatriots. Warlocks and seat-belts save lives. We then fought three giant horse-like creatures with four arms and lots of horns, not unlike the bull, but bigger…and fearsome! At some point I remember seeing the largest squirrel I’ve ever laid eyes upon. He was carrying a horse-headed human in peacocked regalia who bade us worship his beauty. Unflinchingly and unabashedly I knelt in obeisance.

Oh!

…and I vaguely remember Bungle and Ariel taking turns on Eelyjahnah…the heat stroke was blistering! On the evening of the 5th night, the 15th of Ra, CrIsis stopped for the evening so that Ariel could finally forgo sloppy seconds and make once round the mulberry bush before the briar patch with his twig ’n berries.

Bidnass as usual my diminutive friend! Wishing you were here but, in your stead, wishing you all the best!

Your steadfast Garden Gnome,

Tyvernos.

Written by Tyvernos on the 15th of Ra in the 69th Year of the Wolfen Empire.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

From our game on the 8th of June, from the Elf Azariel, whose goal is to one day be an alchemist (currently a summoner/wizard)


"Highway to Hades"

Ra 15th, 111

In the heat and humidity of the morning air, I felt the temporary boon of protection lift from me. I questioned, wondering whether it was some punishment for a sin? My thoughts went immediately to the night of sweet kisses that Iana and I had, and my stomach dropped to my feet. Could this be? Is this a message from the gods that we aren’t meant for each other? But how can that be? We complete each other so completely! My first thought ere I wake is of Iana, and my bedtime lullaby is her sweet voice. My majestic, baritone music from my cello, and her soprano, as clear as a bell blend so perfectly.

Without any real proof, (as we are in a jungle, so why shouldn’t I be subjected to the heat?) I will continue the quintessent duet, until Osiris himself tells me otherwise!

I will, however, refrain from copulation until that blessed day that we can be joined by a servant of the Lords, just to be sure. I would hate to bring a child into this world. The build-up to the Kiss is as good as the Kiss itself!

Benji and Overkill were suffering today, and there was a point where Overkill, with his rippling, sea-hardened muscles flirtatiously dropped trow – supposedly due to an “illness only Iana could cure” – in front of Iana, whose face did not show displeasure at the sight! I swear, my heart could have ruptured, and painted the jungle red at the sight!

Rain started to pour, but the sun was still out! Horror of Horrors, what a terrible place! With the sun baking us, and the hot rain boiling us and soaking our clothes, I am surprised we all didn’t collapse on the spot, with apples in our mouths! We’ve got the garnish in the packs. A nice and tasty feast! And to make things worse, the blasted beasts here would not shirk that opportunity! Even the insects here are ravenous. There is enough of my blood out there flying around to draw a circle of summon Azariel: Superior! I have had it with this place.

While I was grumbling mentally, and playing my Cello for Iana the way a mandolin would be, our giant Rahu-man guide – who knows the forest like the back of his four hands – fell unwittingly into a bog! Seeing the green ground waving like water, I realized that the carpet before us wasn’t grass but moss and mud. The stench didn’t hit my nostrils till the muck was disturbed, and I realized that I would have to help my mates save him. I magically filled my lungs with air, and got ready to dive in.

The other Annointed were just as fast, and within seconds, Benji handed a rope to Xerx’ses, who anchored himself onto the ground, the tiny Tyvernos anchoring his feet. Cava and Overkill both jumped in, with one end of the rope. Seconds passed that seemed to drag like hours! The rope jerked twice, and our Minotaur started to pull the three up, but when they breached the surface, it wasn’t a giant that Overkill had in his meat-mits, but a nasty looking fiend I later learned was called a Kelpie. Knowing that time was running out for our four-armed friend, I grabbed the end of the rope thrown to the side of the bog, and jumped in.

The world went brown. I swam downward, for what seemed like minutes. Shapes swirled around me as I cut through the murk. Finally, I saw the sinuous, wavering shape of an unconscious guide. I felt iron fingers try to clasp on my shoulder, but I pushed past them to tie a harness on the body. With two tugs, I told Xerx’ses, which I hoped was still holding the other end of the rope. Luck be praised, he was, and started pulling us out. With my blinders removed, I looked around me, and saw Overkill and Cava in the water, but miss the fast-moving mass of the Rahu-man.

The Giant and I were lifted from the water upward by a flying bovine wizard. The Giant’s feet were still within reach, though, so quick-thinking shorebound heroes made fast work to thwart the Kelpies. Then came the proverbial hand upside the back of the head! The Warlock cast a ball of sunlight below the surface! We were going into the home of the Kelpies, on their terms; negligible light for us, but plenty for them. With the bog alight, I cast an adhesive carpet on the enemy besieging a near-death Overkill and his savior. It sank, and we had all of our party back on dry-ish land, the warm rain washing the filth from us. When I was set down, I felt a squelching beneath my feet, and looked down to see pygmy corpses strewn across the path; our thieves, discovered, it would seem!

We checked on Tiakatha, and he was alive, though he seemed to have swallowed his weight in bogwater. We hobbled to a ‘safe’ area to set up a camp and rest, as Overkill was near death, and the rest of us weren’t much better.

There was only one problem! A Cockatrice barred our way! I AM SO SICK OF THIS PLACE!!! The Cockatrice attacked, spraying death all over us, but the Air Warlock created a wall of wind, so as to bring the cockatrice in to close quarters. It worked, and the dragon was so flustered, it missed the Minotaur and the Gnome in its swoop. Xerx’ses charged it before it had a chance to come around for another attack, and trampled the mostly-dead dwarf underhoof. Strength be damned, he’s the embodiment of Luck! He survived a demon-spawned cloven hoof massacre, shortly after getting out of the clutches of a Kelpie’s watery grave, brought to within an inch of death, but bouncing back.

The Luckless Cockatrice was not spared, though. Skewered on the horn, it took three giant hands to remove it. We harvested it, and spread the parts among us. I mentally went through all of the circles I knew, to see if there were any that require dragon parts. Unfortunately, nothing that I know of requires dragon components. It will still fetch a pretty penny, though. Hopefully it’s worth rotting in our packs and weighing us down.

We finally found a place safe enough to settle down and heal. I set up my bed roll near Iana’s tent, and then helped set up the rest of the camp. Cava suggested we rest a day, as it has been a week of endless attacks, heat, and marching. All the better for me! Hushed music, singing and dancing with dinner seemed to lift everyone’s spirits.

Ra 16th, 111

Cava came up to me today, and we talked about ‘My Intentions with Iana.’ I have no idea how these two formed such a father/daughter bond so quickly, but there’s no escaping it! I am just glad that I don’t have to have him as a legal father-in-law! … I hope, that is. He’s far too handy with that axe… I assured him that my intentions are pure, and that Iana is my sun, moon, and stars. She illuminates the darkness in which I live without her, and it will never go away. He made sure I knew that it had better not, or I would be singing the soprano, instead of her.

Doesn’t he see how much she looks to him? She has looked to me only a few times, and even then it’s only a prelude to looking to him. She trusts him with all her being, I only have her heart. I think it all came from a calling given her of Bast, but I could be wrong.

After a whole day of resting, I think we are ready to continue on our Luck-Forsaken trek!

Ra 18th, 111

Waking up to the third day straight of boiling rain, I have had enough! I voiced my opinions to the group, who summarily dismissed and ignored them with nothing more than a simple “WE SHALL TRUDGE ONWARD!”

After talking to the Rahu-man, I learned that there is a hierarchy of dangerous places in the world. The number one most dangerous place in all of Palladium is, of course, the Land of the Damned. The second most dangerous place in all of Palladium is the Firebog, just northwest of us, and the ONE SWATH of jungle we are in comes in a close third! The single stretch we decided to hike across could very likely kill us. The guide showed on the map where we are, after a week of travel, and it isn’t even a quarter of the way to the mountains! It will take us at least a month, and that’s if we survive the night! Reckless and Irrational are two of the countless adjectives that swirl in my head right now, thinking of us continuing.

My suggestion was to trudge a week back to the boat, sail around to the Western Empire, hire a wagoneer, and travel the rest of the way around the Scarlet Sea in comfort, feet up and head back! Safe, quick, and painless!! I am not lazy, and I know that with the Gods of Light on our side we can do anything, but why walk through coals when the grass is just as accessible? The Gods shouldn’t have to hold our hands all the time!

Well, since we decided to keep delving into the forest’s treasure trove of hassles, I started to think about what I could do to aid us. I never once thought to leave the group, as whenever a member of CrIsis trudges out on their own, they either die, or are saddled with unbearable duties, like, oh, I dont know, pretending to be the king of a crumbling kingdom in the middle of civil war or something. And we are CrIsis as a group; alone we are nothing.

I ran through my circles that I have the ingredients for. Unfortunately, most of my summoning circles require live sacrifices, all of which I left with Roggan. I thought of summoning Nipshanks, but he’d be in the same situation of having to navigate the jungles just to get to us. The only other one I have is that to summon a True Elemental. A being of such awesome power and lack of moral, it is quite literally a force of nature! Fire, Earth, Wind, Air, all of which would help, in their own way – As long as we can control it! So, I suggested to Tyvernos, the tiny tot of the true elemental tongue, to see how he would summon one. His methods are so different, that he would be of no use in my ritual, but he decided to try his own way without me. Such a self motivated man! It is no wonder why he was chosen for this task. He prayed to Bennu and his Elemental Air, and we heard nothing. The leopard man that appeared to Benji minutes before decided to urinate all over the tiny tyke. Poor man! That was probably an omen, but whether it was an omen referring to us running headlong into the jungles unaided, or an omen foreboding the summoning of a dangerous force of elemental magic, I have no clue.

We spent the rest of the day clearing an opening large enough for a circle that could summon the Elemental and also protect all of the party.

Ra 19th, 111

I felt SO embarrassed. I started preparations for the ritual, and I felt the power coming from the circle itself, even before I activated it. I felt that bone-deep ache that every summoner recognizes – inadequacy. That’s the best word for it. Every summoner can sense his limits, and anyone that ignores them is liable to be destroyed by that which he summoned. I told my companions I wouldn’t be able to do it, and I could see disappointment etching Iana’s face.

“I can just ask in a different place!” Tyvernos suggested, as if it were obvious to everyone. Summoners pull their targets from wherever they may be, with no question of distance or willingness. Apparently Warlocks can only supplicate to those within a certain range; walk a mile or two and try try again. I wasted the day, so we will try tomorrow.

Ra 20th, 111

We trudged a mile, and Tyvernos stopped us. I braced myself for the incoming onslaught, but some in our number didn’t. Iana failed to stele herself, and when Tyvernos called upon the True elemental of Air, she ran in fright. The Minotaur managed to grab her, where I failed. I seem to do that a lot, lately.

The air elemental was immense. A lidless eye clothed in lightning a hundred paces in the air stared down at us. Several tornadoes danced around it, destroying everything infront of us, creating a clearing. The Warlock spoke a language that sounded like wind, hunger and pain in word. The elemental’s responses were the same language, but one hundred fold in magnitude. The rest of us tried to not be smashed by the trees that were being ripped from the ground. Our poor horse did not make it, but we should be able to eat what was left of him. Iana thinks the idea revolting.

The Warlock sent the tornado ahead of us, to clear a path and scare the wildlife. I must say, after a day’s travel with no attacks I am relieved. Benji cried to us about killing wildlife, and destroying the forest, but after a month this path will be reclaimed by the forest, and after a year the jungle will appear to have never been disturbed. The wildlife sense the magic of the elemental, and will have hidden or ran from it.

We walked in the tracks of the elemental all day today, and nothing barred our way. It almost felt like a walk in the park on a Sunday morning. If the park were recently smashed by a rampaging, hundred-foot tall ball of destruction and mayhem.

Ra 21st, 111

The suggestion was made that we employ the magic we had among us, and speed our journey. Xerx’ses and I cast Fleet Feet several times along the way, and Cava and Overkill helped as much as they could with their rings. If only I could make rings already! I could have given us all a ring or two, and would not have any problem. I am so spent that I can barely raise the quill to parchment to pen these few lines.

The only thing that happened today was an ambush by Ogres, but we skirted the threat and ran along.

Ra 22nd, 111

Xerx’ses and I did not take a watch last night, as we needed all the strength we could in order to keep our magical conveyance active. Iana and Cava healed our wounds received by the Elemental and the Ogres, as well as the cuts and bruises from tripping on fallen trees.

After a few hours of uninterrupted running, we reached the mountains! The Elemental was dismissed by Tyvernos, who thanked him for his services. We rested for lunch at the foot of the mountains, and as we got set to start into them, another feline messenger of the gods slashed Benji’s face. Not fifteen minutes later, we were welcomed to the Baalgor Mountain range by FROST GIANTS. I mean, seriously? In the jungles? Giants? Well, I guess they’re at home in the peaks, and the destruction in the jungle must have attracted them. Either way, they tried to killify us. They did not succeed, well not totally. Cava, the bastion of never-dying flesh fell! If it weren’t for Quixsis’ prayer on his behalf to the Lawgiver, methinks he would have been lost forever. Xerx’ses was also lost, and unfortunately when we recovered him, his flail was gone. I shudder to think of ever losing my mace, Xama’sconde. I will push to find it, but for now we rest, and restore health to our nearly deceased. WHAT A HELL HOLE!

Power to Osiris, and Glory to Ra!



>>Entries ranging Ra 15th through 22nd in the 22nd Year of Emperor Voelkian Itomas II, from the personal journal of Azariel, Apprentice Alchemist 8th rank, Novice Summoner of 3rd rank, Wizard of 5th rank, Acolyte of Osiris and the Lady of Luck.<<
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by kiralon »

Gnome elementalist, put him in a specially made backpack and then someone has a shoulder mounted gnome targetted lightning cannon.
air elemental blazing a trail is amusing, did the horse spin round a few times in the air like the cow in the twister movie ?
Keep up the good work.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Thanks Kiralon!
Tyvernos prefers his mount, a St Bernard named Otto, who he believes has a direct line to his goddess, Bennu.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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From our game on 6/22/13, from Xerx'ses, the minotaur wizard

"It is Always Darkest Before the Dawn"

| Reader Note: Please be aware this missive is also written in
| the blood of Xerx’ses, but I will not subject you to red text
| for the whole page.
=====

Dear Darakh’zan and Rostam,

It is nearing sunset on the 24th of Ra and we are lucky to be alive. I am sorry for the melancholy tone of my last missive. My back aches but the lesson is ingrained upon my flesh and I laid on the ground to gather some dirt into the wounds so they would scar in healing. When I met the most beautiful goddess, Bast I still remember her tears when she described the deaths she could feel of thousands of her children cry out and the suddenly and forever silenced. It has occurred to me that that what the Dwarves did to the Golden City of Baalgor was thousands of times worse than what we caused, but one scar you can see from mountains stretching over a 100 miles is nothing to sneer at. However, its power is something we will never call upon again lightly. Upon my return it had been about an hour since the battle with the Frost Giants and I could see Master Tyvernos was feeling the weight of what he wrought sinking in. But he would not endure this burden alone, we all agreed we made our choice and now would deal with the ramifications, guilt, and consequences as a team.

Just then a magic pigeon arrived bearing a message:

Hail, Giant Slayers! The Gromek Overlords, Baalgor Mountains, bid you welcome and request your presence at Raag Vire immediately to discuss the terms of your prospective employment against the giant menace. Your success has been observed. Join us, or perish!

Needless to say we started looking and soon saw winged humanoid creatures above that later told to me are Gromek. A race whom earliest records indicate they have been here since the War of the Fair and the Strong. Soon their are eight of them in the sky and Master Bungo begins to wave at them as Master Cava readies his bow but does not draw upon them. Wise tactics, I have been trying to listen to Master Azariel and he has called this high ground advantage over times we have talked on watch. As they begin to descend they are robbed of their prize “Giant Slayers” by fellow with and even bigger axe to grind, literally!

Bigger!

To grind!

As though the hits could not get any worse we heard someone or something running up the trail behind us into the foothills of the Baalgor Mountains. It turned out to be an 18 foot tall plate armored warrior wielding an axe of pale white. His armor was clearly bronze and enameled a dark red all over. The closer he approached that enamel looked more and more like the blood on my manacle belt! He was crying out in utter rage…

“WHO DID THIS!?!?! I WILL KILL YOU ALL!!!”

…and I believed what great Bast said had come true. Rostam, father, at this moment I wish I had lain with Bast even though I would have no idea what to do, just felt like I was about to miss out and die yet again. Again while I see Azariel pray everyday I was please to note he was the one crying out for an intervention from the realms above.

“Osiris, Ra, Gods of Light!!! Thine emissaries are in immediate peril from another god. There is nothing that we can do against such power, but in thy strength, ALL IS POSSIBLE dear lords! Please come to our aid. The War God of the Yin Sloth is upon us, and I fear that destruction is nigh!!”

Tyvernos steadies himself upon my shoulder and braces for impact. He begins to mutter a prayer to Bennu even as the War God rails some never ending diatribe about how we’ve slain his followers. Which however, is likely true the destruction we left in our wake.

The great war god of the southern pantheon speaks…

I AM LOPNEL! YOU COWARDS WILL TELL ME WHY YOU HAVE KILLED MY CHILDREN!!!

Our Rahu-Man guide, Tiakatha, simply stated he was not with us and just a guide. When he held out his hand for payment I paid him and truth be told was sad to see him go, a friend won and lost inside a week’s time. I retorted that his followers were trying to kill us and we were afraid of dying. All of this is the truth. I could see he heard me and then mentioned that of course a dwarf would be here among death and destruction! Really! The Great War has been over for 8,000 to 7,000 years and this god still blames the Dwarves for the ultimate attack during that “august war.” Mistress Iana, worried this is the end for me again does a brave act and covers myself and her in a field of “Internal Energy” to keep us safe from harm after Master Tyvernos jumped off my shoulder. While Master Tyvernos bows in the presence of Lopnel god. He then speaks, humbly, in obeisance, “Lopnel the great Warrior! We are humbled by your presence and we offer you our sincerest apologies. We beseech you — nay — BEG you for LENIENCY!!!!”

The warrior god seemed offended that the smallest among us was talking to him and much less begging. Most of the warriors I have known all wanted test of strength and martial prowess. Just then Master Cava opens his mouth and says the unthinkable!

“This is Tyvernos’s fault anyway he should be the one to apologize to the god,” Master Cava said behind me so I couldn’t see his face. Even if the ranger/scout was being sarcastic this went over bad, with Lopnel crying out.

YOU! COWARD! YOU WOULD THROW ONE OF YOUR OWN UNDER THE HOUNDS! YOU CALL YOURSELF HIS FRIEND!!!

Overkill moves to step in front of his friend even though he later confessed he thought it was asinine to say. When Lopnel demand Cava for sacrifice Sir Quixis goes to move in front of Cava and declare himself for the ranger’s aid. It had to be clarified to Lopnel that it was indeed Master Tyvernos that used the power unaware of the sheer amount of devastation in its wake.
Many of us espoused the following sentiment…
…This is an amalgam of the various members of the team saying roughly the same tone

“Great Lopnel, if you can appreciate battle then know we battled your jungle and were we not feeling our lives threatened we would not have summoned the powers we had at our disposal. Surely you can appreciate victory, for only the dead smell defeat.”

It was then he paused then told us we were not allowed in the Jungles again. We flat out explained that we are on a mission to collect the pieces of Osiris for Isis and there’s a necromancer in the Jungles we have to go after so no deal. Master Tyvernos tries to step forward and submit himself to Lopnel’s justice, however, I tell Master Tyvernos he will not go through this alone despite his objections for our group’s safety. I would use more blood describing the banter that went back an forth about us lying about our mission, however, when it looked like in our weakened state we were going to have to face off with the Jungle God of War, THUNDER ERUPTED IN THE SKY!

Great and benevolent Bast appears Lopnel is forced to re-evaluate the truth of our statement about being sent by the gods of light! A deal was struck that Master Cava is no longer allowed in the Yin-Sloth Jungles, and with that the gods disappeared! In the face of all this and dying my nerves are shot, but no Master Cava starts to go about how he will go after the other piece of Osiris with us. I turn and for the first time my temper shows!

WHAT IS IT WITH YOU? FIRST YOU ARE UNGRATEFUL TO THE GODDESS THAT SAVED YOUR SOUL FROM SET! THEN WHEN WE AVOID COMPLETE ERADICATION OF OUR EXISTENCE BY THAT VERY SAME GODDESS YOU SPIT ON HER INTERVENTION FOR WHAT? PRIDE? YOU HAD BETTER GET DOWN ON YOU HANDS AND KNEES AND THANK HER FOR YOUR VERY EXISTENCE. ASIDE FROM AZARIEL, AND I IMAGINE SIR QUIXIS WOULD IT KILL ANY OF YOU TO PRAY JUST A LITTLE TO FIND PEACE AND CALM? RATHER THAN WHEN YOU NEED SOMETHING! NOW WHEN WE GO TO RECOVER THE PIECE IN THE JUNGLE, MASTER CAVA, WE WON’T BE GOING WITH YOU.

I didn’t even look back at what Master Cava decided to do, but our reverie was so short lived because the eight Gromek had returned seeing the crisis abated (Master Bungo calls this a pun but I am not sure why). Our group knows they speak Giantese so I was elected to communicate and translate. Their leader, whose name I am sure I heard, but don’t care to repeat it to avoid offering any way for history to remember a tyrant.

What I said coming up was done on frazzled nerves and shock at the events over everything since my last missive.

I tried to explain several times that we had no problem fighting giants but we were head into the Wastelands. When he said that we wish to declare war on the Gromek Empire by not following them for the fourth time I asked if he was stupid and was there a intelligent one among them. I can actually say those were famous last words! Now don’t take that as flippant but he killed me in the EXACT same way and spot as the damn Frost Giant did! As I fell and darkness grabbed me I saw my companions leap into action. I don’t debate I was dead but Master Tyvernos use a scroll and I was alive again less than a half minute later, if that. I explained to the group what I did and took onus for my actions. The Gromek tyrant offered his hand to me and said he could not let the slight go but was sorry negotiations went awry. I accepted his apology and I am sure he and I knew this wasn’t over, however, he had won this round.

We followed our guide/captors to Raag Vire and I noticed Mistress Iana was healing herself and being assisted by Sir Quixis whom was apologizing his swipe at the Gromek tyrant missed and hitting her with his magical broadsword. I can guess at the guilt he must feel in striking her in error. Master Bungo I am told even took up action with his blowgun, not that I would want to be on the end of an envenomed dart. Master Cava tried to run interference and reason with the Gromek and we found out it speaks Elven. Along the way we found a Gromek corpse being feasted upon by unusual looking rats and a condor. Sir Quixis scared them away, and when the Gromek descended from their aerial tracking/guiding of us they thanked Sir Quixis and two stayed with from that point forward but would only walk up front with the palladin. I learned something, they only value strength, and honor among their people. If they weren’t such tyrants in their approach they would easily conquer a much larger area of the world, and I would be inclined to help them.

Before the sun set on the 22nd of Ra a Sphinx landed and demanded 10,000 gold from each of us for passage. The Gromek bailed and flew off while Sir Quixis charged it raining two heavy blows with his blade. Master Cava slid forward and drew down on it with his bow, firing a well pace arrow. Master Overkill tries to reason with it which seemed to buy the rest of us time to arm up and fight. Well I missed throwing a lightning spear I summoned but Mistress Iana was quite helpful with a boulder and her internal magic / psychic powers.

THWACK!

Another well placed shot by Master Cava and the Sphinx cries out. Flying off and turning invisible!

“I’LL REMEMBER THIS!”

I cast See the Invisible to verify it was not hiding close by and I could detect nothing gazing around us. Shortly after nightfall the Gromek and us make camp. I almost feel like home napping in catacombs looking for books of the Dwarves.

The 23rd of Ra -

Today has shown me I know nothing about women, or the intimate practices of mating. Truth be told I am not sure I want to know now.

The Gromek wake us at dawn and we begin to eat and get ready having begun healing and rest my energy is returning, but not enough for the fight with the Gromek Tyrant, patience I gather unto me. Mistress Iana mentions she is available for healing, of all of us Master Overkill is hanging on death’s door and we all mentioned that to Mistress Iana whom made a point of mentioning she could not help the sores he had but she might be able to take care of other wounds. They head off behind a boulder and it would appear the healing involved some painful physical stretching, I stood up and looked over. Let me just say this, if you want privacy please remember that one of you companions is eleven feet three inches tall and that means I am a little over twice the height of my companions. I have seen that she needs to touch those she heals and with all the damage to the dwarf she was apparently straddling him. It could not have been pleasant for either of them as they were groaning a great deal, and there was this smell that I have only smelled from females on my species in heat.

Oh my OSIRIS! I averted my gaze and walked a few feet in another direction. Other races mating customs seem strange but I am not judgmental there is enough of that leveled at my race. It would appear that this was a surprise to everyone in the group but only one of the group seemed upset by it, Master Azariel. Then things took a turn for the worst and again Master Cava was at the center of this once more. His fame has gotten to him and he has forgotten virtues that make him a name to be looked up to. HE BEGAN DISCUSSING TERMS WITH MASTER AZARIEL ABOUT RENTING OUT MISTRESS IANA’S SERVICES!!! Honestly, I am not surprised Master Bungo joined in given his promiscuous nature, so I have no intention of slighting him here. It would be like teasing a solider with wine. Master Azariel was talking like Mistress Iana and he had formed a mating ritual and were bound to each other. I knew sex existed and Luur’na had performed said act with Zii’clymnt but I really had no idea it could be done casually without the mating ritual being involved, my studies never really left time for such endeavors. WHEN HE BEGAN TELLING AZARIEL THAT THE FIRST ONES WERE FREE AND HE HAD TO START PAYING I HAD LOST IT, MY TRIBE WAS SLAVES NO TO ANY THAT WOULD CALL US UNDER HEEL!

WHEN DID THIS GROUP APPROVE OF SLAVERY AS AN ACCEPTED PRACTICE!

The Gromek decided to stay out of this internal conflict and flew up and away to watch. Everyone was silent and I continue.

MISTRESS IANA IS NOT PROPERTY! YOU, ELF, HAVE NOT PERFORMED A MATING CEREMONY AND UNTIL THAT HAPPENS YOU DO NOT CONTROL WHOM SHE SHARES HER BED WITH WHETHER YOU LIKE THAT OR NOT! CAVA HOW COULD YOU! JUST BECAUSE YOU HAD A SCROLL THAT ALTERED THE FATE OF LIVING BEING TO DEVOTE THEIR LIFE TO YOU DOES NOT MEAN THEY ARE YOUR SLAVE! YOU AGAIN SULLY YOURSELF TREATING SOMEONE AS YOUR THRALL! PERHAPS THE DARK GODS SHOULD WIN, IF WE LEAVE YOU UNCHECKED THEN ALL THEY HAVE TO DO IS SIT BACK AND WATCH YOU LEAD US TO THEM. YOU MAKE ME SICK!

Just then we were interrupted by a softer voice with firm words.

“I will choose with whom I ****! Though right now it would be with none of you,” Mistress Iana screamed and she grabbed her things and ran off. I turned to Sir Quixis and Cava mentioning that we need to catch her before she runs off and gets herself killed. Cava tries to apologize to me and I tell him the person he should apologize to is out there running to her doom.

We catch up to her just before a small vale, not quite a valley but hidden nonetheless among the upper foothills. We didn’t realize we had set off an ancient trap from the War of the Fair and the Strong. Master Bungo found and I identified the warded stone that activated ghosts that would form bodies from the dirt, rocks, branches, pebbles, and such. We had to fight off a number of them because we had stumbled into the clearing of the vale without seeing the age ward stone. I cast Fleet Feet and Master Tyvernos gave Cava lightning arrows to which he put to devastating effect upon our corporeal assailants. I used the roundhouse kick to one helping Cava finish it off. I tried to charge another but missed, I am chalking this up to having come back from the dead again but my skills seem sluggish and off. While Master Bungo and Mistress Iana pound bolt and arrows at the creatures from afar we begin to crush our foes and get out the the area to begin investigating it.

In moving away from the area we hear a ROARRR!!!!

We looked up and not only did we see the Gromek fighting a dragon, but I recognized it as an adult Great Horned Dragon! That thing was like an angry god child and it was pissed with the Gromek, maybe they tried to recruit it? We debated helping them but I have to admit that I had no great desire to help a future slave master in a fight. It was not long before the Gromek began dropping like insignificant pests to the adult Great Horned Dragon! We hid and when the great lizard was done it swooped through the range looking for stragglers, and thanks be to Bast, and the host of Ra that it did not see us. I was not shooting for a third death by any means!

There was some debate about reaching out to Brother Malkin for updated maps of the Baalgor Mountains and Wastelands. I think my knowledge was overestimated of the area around my home and I was not there when they went shopping for maps in Credia. I asked about healing needs to everyone and Sir Quixis is quick to say he will defend us and we should press on. I replied, “Noble Palladin, no one can match your zeal for our safety but if we don’t stop and heal, rest, and eat you will be defending corpses.” The point sunk home and we started checking on whom needed healing from Mistress Iana.

Then something happened I was completely unprepared for, Sir Quixis called me “noble.”

Father and mother I stopped in my tracks completely and could not believe it. While at a loss for words I swallowed and merely thanked him for his kind words. This sentiment was echoed by a few of the teammates and I had to focus to continue as this was unexpected. Mistress Iana had me help her but I am not sure why. When healed a teammate I would lay my hands on them and then her upon mine and I could feel the energy for healing pass through me to them. While it was happening it was very euphoric and intoxicating. When she was done with the last person she whispered in my ear, “You have felt my power, now let me feel your power.”

I dumbly followed her away from the group and behind several boulders. When she was done and asleep I lay there and wondered why I did not feel like Master Azariel, the act was pleasant enough at the moment but I thought it was tacky timing for Mistress Iana, unless was I being used to prove a point to the other that she would pick whom she lay with? GREAT! I am more revolted by this act than I ever was curious!

The 24th of Ra -

That morning I got up early and not happy with anyone I could see Master Azariel staying distant from me but right now nerves are raw and were are going through the second most hostile place on the entire world. During breakfast (Trigger thank you for helping to keep the group alive right now) we talked again about how to reach out to Brother Malkin and should we wait for a reply. It was decided that Overkill would send a pigeon, it would contain my true name so I could communicate with Brother Malkin if he decided to trust me with his. Now, it was also decided we could not wait for a reply and had to forge ahead since it could be upwards of 3 weeks before we got anything useful. I asked Master Bungo to scout for us and Cava and Sir Quixis went with him to find a way around the ghost vale, which we learned they cannot leave the vale. I made a plea to ask the palladin to please move quietly since the fewer things we have to fight the better off we are. He nodded and assured me that stealth was possible for him and he had been trained to do so.

It was Cava that found a trail on the south side of the ghost vale leading around it. Onward we moved as a group while Mistress Iana healed those she could, Master Azariel, is refusing help but we can deal with that later. We came to a cross road that our path ran smack into like a " T " if you will. Shortly before that “T” crossing we came across ring of standing stones. Remember the ward stone and its protected vale from the day before we started checking.


Yes, the stones are able to form a perfect circle and be used in such magic.

No, there is no active magic or enchantments on the circle.

No, touching the stones does not activate anything.

No, walking through and out the other side does not activate anything.

Yes, these were erected by the fae, Spriggans I am told by Master Bungo.

No, there is nothing buried or unusual about the dirt in the ring.

Funny part is that as soon as Master Tyvernos said the ground was normal a large gout of flame shot down out of the sky singeing him very bad. A pack of flying demon deer I was later told called Perytons began to swoop down in formation as though we had crossed into their hunting grounds and they appeared to have a taste for mortal flesh! Sir Quixis lunged forward and cut deep into the one that had burned Master Tyvernos, I unleashed with a Paralysis Bolt an fell one of the eight demon deer. Master Azariel used Carpet of Adhesion on one and made it start to fall crashing into another one bringing down two. I got another bolt of match his number and we had dealt with half of them when Master Tyvernos let loose with a Whirlwind spell and brought down the other four of them quite violently. After we made sure that all of them were dead we stopped in the circle to rest a minute when.

Maybe 5 minutes later two magical pigeons land on Master Azariel’s shoulder and delivered two messages:

message #1,
message #2.

Then came the letter taking our gnome from us, and given the first missive Master Tyvernos had to go and save dear Lady Morgan, Master Gavin’s wife:

message #3.

Before he left he asked the group to decide whom should get the finger of Osiris, and Cava was out because of his recent actions, his ethics had been called into question. We learned that everyone appointed to CrIsis is voted upon by the Gods of Light and more than a single “Nay” and that person is denied entry. It would seem Bast does not trust Master Azariel, and that left Master Bungo and Master Overkill. I was the last vote, and I made it clear that Master Bungo irritates me daily I have seen him do nothing but help the group and I asked Master Overkill if he had no objection in giving it the Master Bungo. So it was decided. The finger is now actively pointing to another piece so we have gained a compass.

Now we headed to a spot pass the standing stone ring but just before the road that does lead up into the mountains.

In the morning I will talk with Master Cava, Master Azariel and Mistress Iana. I am hoping I can mediate out some common ground among them all and help heal the group. Master Azariel has said he is going to respond to the letter he got from the Agent of Bes, I just wanted to know your input on the subject? Anything that he should or should not say? Sir Quixis smiles and tells the good elf that CrIsis and the light will triumph, and it should surrender to you. I look at everyone and say, “Tell him thank you, if ever there was doubt that evil needed to be squashed, he has purged the thought from our mind. If he kills Mary then know that Overkill will hunt Bes down and I will join him. Tell him thank you for trying to turn kingdoms against us, for trying to sack Ra’s church, for trying to weaken us by killing our families. We clearly have scared the Dark Gods and they fear our success. Sir Quixis will back me up on this I am sure, as it is always darkest before the dawn.”


>> Written by Xerx’ses Goldenflail,
Wizard on the 24th of Ra the year 111. <<
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

After 53 sessions, we passed a milestone- over 250 logs! Mostly by the players themselves, so I had the players vote on their favorite. By a close margin, Roggan’s log about turning himself into an iron golem won.
Here is the log

"Hardened Heart and Resolve"

Roggan go to Smithy. Roggan buy piece of iron, Smithy make Iron look like Heart. … Roggan Heart. Roggan ask Smithy if Roggan can watch, and Smithy let Roggan watch. Smithy not know what Iron Heart for, but Roggan know.
Roggan do this for Gina. Roggan do this for CrIsis. Roggan never say Roggan love every-one again. Roggan hate Fenrir Demons. Fenrir Demons all die, Roggan make sure.

Roggan watch Smithy melt Iron, Iron turn to magma, bright hot. Roggan watch Smithy pour Iron into mold. Roggan watch Smithy cool iron, use oil, water, salt. Roggan hold Roggan Heart in Roggan hand. Heart feel heavy, cold, dead. Roggan scared Roggan real heart turn heavy cold and dead. But Cow Lady not teach Roggan to make Golem Body if Roggan die. Would Cow Lady do that?

Roggan get Roggan stuff ready, for Roggan body. Roggan kneel in dirt, with Roggan Iron Heart in Roggan hand. Roggan say prayer to Cow Lady.

‘Cow Lady! Gina die! Please, cow lady, please guard Gina spirit. Take Gina to Rock Heaven in Llorn. And smack Dookie for Roggan. Roggan need to make another golem. Roggan going to make Golem Body for Roggan. Roggan do something great like Earth Warlocks that make Canal. Cow lady send help to Roggan tonight. Send comfort tonight for Roggan, ’cus Roggan old body die, and Roggan not be Trog anymore. Roggan cry for Happiness and for Sadness. But Roggan determined.’

Roggan ask Master Kel-ed help Roggan make Roggan body. Kel-ed help Roggan, so Roggan do Ritool perfect. Roggan not want to take chance, not want to make mistake.

Roggan make Clay, and sculpt body big, body strong. Roggan make body 20 feet tall. Roggan make arms big, same size as Roggan body. Roggan make small arms, with small hands too, so Roggan make Neckies and Rings and Wristies, but Kel-ed tell Roggan that Roggan make the elbow joints wrong for golem tiny arms. Jewel arms bend backwards, Kel-ed say. But Kel-ed make arms bend right.

Roggan draw circle with star for Ritool. Roggan use blood. Roggan start to chant special prayer Cow Lady teach Roggan. Roggan dance around Golem. Kel-ed start chanting something other than Roggan chant. Roggan not understand Kel-ed words. Golem start to turn into Iron, Roggan get lifted into air! Kel-ed chant change. Roggan feel like Roggan touching the iron of Roggan body, start to feel iron all over, but Roggan not next to Body. Roggan look at Kel-ed in eyes. Roggan hear in Roggan head, in boomy voice: ‘LAST CHANCE!’

‘Roggan do this! For Crisis! For Gina! For Cow Lady!’

Roggan body start to burn! Roggan HURT, more than when Roggan die, more than two times Roggan die!! Roggan look at Roggan body, and Roggan skin melting off, iron burning onto it, like Smithy. Kel-ed turn Roggan to magma, and Magma Body drip onto Iron Body. Roggan feel Magma body and Iron body. Roggan stay concentrated. Magma gone, Iron only thing that Roggan feel now. Roggan feel magic stop.

It Finished.

Roggan go to lick Roggan eye, and Roggan not have tongue!!!! Well Roggan tongue short, not like Roggan tongue should be. Roggan not talk like Roggan should, Roggan mumble. Roggan ask “Where Roggan tongue?” But Kel-ed gone. Roggan feel alone. Roggan feel tired, Roggan feel sad. Roggan feel cold, Roggan feel heart. Roggan scream in Anger and Pain.

Roggan not Roggan, Roggan Iron Man. Roggan change forever, but Roggan now do what Roggan need to do. Kill Fenrir Demons. Kill Anubie. Kill Set. Roggan hate evil.

Roggan Hate flow like Magma in Roggan Cold Heart. Forever.



>>As scrawled by Roggan on Selestra 5th in the year 111.<<
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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The Dark is starting to make their play, and beginning to turn PC's against each other. Here is a log from the Dwarven Mariner Overkill from our last session, on July 6, 2013.

"Through The Looking Glass"



Malkin,

The day started with prayer. I hadn’t taken notice that Xerx’ses uses a strange blood ritual that involves setting blood on fire; strange how I had not noticed that previously. I and the team really needed a bath. We were covered in sand, dust, blood and sweat and so needed a bath and we had been in the desert for only three days. Already we had seen gromek and giants. I was certain that it was only going to get worse.

With my sexual encounter with Cava’s slave still fresh in my mind and that Cava is still upset with it when I asked him for healing and he brought out the axe, I was certain that he was going to use it for more than healing. After being healed the team started to feel better. My mouth was dry but I was feeling better.

Cava, realizing that we were in a desert did some dowsing and found us some water for our water skins. I filled my three skins along with the others and their skins. His dowsing pointed in the opposite direction that we went and we had to go back down the mountain. (We need a map!) Then back up the mountain after that.

Well that night there we were sitting. Three of us took the first watch me, Bungo and Azariel. The two resorted to gambling and that lead to getting distracted and chasing a ghost (or maybe a crazy tectonic entity) to say the least I hate being pelted by the ghosts rocks when we stupidly followed the creature and we were lucky when we buried the bones of this guy but by the time we had got to that we had woke the entire team. To say the night was unrestful is an understatement.

Don’t worry it would get worse.

When we rotated out and had the other teammates watch, Azariel who could not keep from being horny made a pass at Iana by sneaking off and attempting to get some tail. Cava almost killed him for his attempt. I could not believe it; he should have been extremely tired. Cava caught him with his bare butt in the air ready to act and that’s when the rocks from Cava began to sting lightly on his rear. He got the message and went to bed.

The following morning we woke to a dead guy (I think it was called a Syvan or was it his name). We were not in good shape as the heat at the time had taken Bungo down and the creature had cause me and Iyana to cower in fear.

Just prior to this we had switched the Osiris’ Finger to me from Bungo as I was not sure if it was safe. Well I had not secured it well and it got unwarranted attention. Well then this creature wants the finger and tricks us with mind tricks and magic. We almost lost the fantastic item. We were chasing him and his illusions for thankfully only minutes because I am sure that he would of got away with our gift had he succeeded if we had not been quick and resourceful.

Well I tie down the Finger to my chest so that it doesn’t get us all killed pointing to the other items. While I was dealing with thing, the guys were looting the body of the dead (or was he undead) guy, they found a knife that was really nice and it seemed that the magic that it held almost caused a serious fist fight.

Well half way back up the mountain the path narrows and we found a decent place to sleep. The following morning we seriously pick up some pace (probably that dead guy had creeped us out; can’t be sure he was actually dead, even dismembered and scattered).

The next day we had such luck and did it again triple speed again and finally reach the top of the mountain ridge. The view was nice but very brown with a sunset blue setting. Nice. Wish that Mary could see this.

The following morning Frost Giants show up (thankfully they are loud and boisterous) we then hid and watched as the creatures passed us. It appeared that they were making plans with weapons of war and battle slaves to pull and push their weapons armed to the teeth. While they passed it was then we heard why they were preparing for war. We had killed some giants earlier and they blamed the gromek for it.

The following day we came across a dragon! (Told you it gets worse). (Skip the map. I want a magic compass that avoids bad things and makes this trip through the desert short). This Lizard (because he is old and powerful) asks for tribute to pass. I hate those filthy creatures. He barks commands at me to see my magic sword and then without care drops it like it’s a worthless piece of metal. I’m surprised that he didn’t treat Cava and the rest of the team with the same disrespect. Via blood oath he demands that we go looking for some piece of glass (well crystal) that he “owns”.

He is at least kind enough to let us out of the mountain without incident and points out a path but that’s not without his oath and blood. Now dragons, giants and gromek aside, I need to discuss something that is more deadly then all of that of witch I have discussed previously. When we arrived at the bottom of the mountain, a magic pigeon soared and landed on our friend Cava’s shoulder. Its message boasted with pride of the traitor among us and then with pride announced that it was Cava.

Were he any other man I would have killed him then and there but alas this human has been the longest companion on this journey. With the life of my family in danger and under duress of a foul oppressor, I am caught in a conundrum; kill Cava and close the eyes of the gods spy glass or let him live. I then came to a revelation; this fool was going after us five and averting his eyes off the thousands of followers that might be put on a mission to save those they didn’t know. Let them watch me and my friends, the gods revenge will be unexpected.

Overkill.
Written by Overkill on the 4th of Thoth in the 1st year of King Minischmee.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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You need to get those silly glasses, want to look through the eyes of someone, all you are going to get is a funny picture :)
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Here is the latest log from Azariel, who was very excited to learn some spells despite the craziness around him. He is trying to become an alchemist.

"A Study of Magic"

Thoth 4th (cont’d)

I met an entire tribe of Minotaur today. They were much like any tribal society, though they had much more structure, as they were following the ancient Dwarves in many aspects. They had an impressive library, for a race that most ‘civilized peoples’ sees as barbaric and backward. It fit in with how I had seen Xerx’ses, our travel companion, and my brother in faith. He has a keen intellect, and a quick wit (though it has gotten us into trouble before), and knows proper etiquette. When I showed interest in the Dwarven knowledge hidden in the tomes, the librarian questioned it! The old racism is alive, it seems! I explained that to true scholars like us, there is no race or barrier for true knowledge. The bovine was definitely satisfied with that, as he seemed to show me a measure of colleague courtesy after that.

The little Minotaur librarian… well I say little because of how he compares to other Minotaur, he definitely had me by head and shoulders… he handed two books for me to study. I looked at the covers of the aged tomes, and I understood that one had to do with Cancelling Magic, and the other was about Invisibility, but mainly in the context of enchanting weapons and armor with the spells! My proverbial mouth began to water. It wasn’t quite “A study of Talismans:: Enchanting mundane items with ethereal properties” but, it was magic, it was knowledge, and more importantly, it was there for ME to learn. I had forgotten the hunger for knowledge that was lying dormant within me! Truly, it fueled the research I conducted on my own for the Power Leech circle, but it was hidden by my urgency for the circle.

I thanked the librarian profusely, and bid adieu to my companions. I am going to study, as there are things that are going to take a good portion of days ahead of CrIsis, the band of merry men. They won’t miss me for a few days, now, will they?



Thoth 5th

I was asked to speak to the Elders, and they asked me a few questions, though I don’t remember what was said. I am too used to courtly behaviours and etiquette and deference to let my absent-mindedness or impatience show, but I had no need for the elders. I trusted Cava and Xerx’ses to put forth the plight before them – I have much too much to do! I need to master the energies, flows, mysteries, and majesties of the secret dwarven magicks hidden in these books! I know that I am the first of the Guild to have even touched tomes this ancient! Well maybe not, but Dwarven Tomes this ancient, definitely! Magic said to have been lost forever in the purges following the War.

All magic is power, and so is knowledge. You never kill knowledge, you kill its recordings, when you destroy magical tomes, and you kill its conduits when you slaughter scholars. But there will always be someone that rediscovers the knowledge, either through research of obscure tomes such as these, or through simple inspiration, experimentation, and invention. I have found these recordings, though, which will keep me from resorting to hashing through it, blundering like a blind man studying fireworks with a torch.

Tomorrow I have an uninterrupted day of study planned. Perfect!



Thoth 6th

(The journal didn’t have much of an entry on this date, mainly just complex notes on potential, kinetic, and mechanical energies, and whatever “polarized plane wave is incident upon an ideal spherical object or field…” means, with drawings and illustrations. Continues for the 7th and 8th, but stops abruptly on the 8th)

(Thoth 9th and 10th were completely blank, without any entry, which hasn’t happened before in Azariel’s Journal.)



Thoth 11th

Augh! I am so frustrated! I had a butter knife on the table, and had cast a simple charm on it, to stick fast. I used all of my theoretical knowledge and put it into practice. I created the lathe out of magic that the book spoke of, and tried to slice the magical energies keeping the charm active. As it was my own charm, it should have been a simple matter for me, theoretically. The second that the magic touched, there was a blinding flash of light. I felt a pang of hunger, and decided to go outside to grab something to eat, and found I had lost TWO ENTIRE DAYS due to the magic! It teleported me forward exactly two days.

Two days, WASTED!!! I think I will go exercise a bit, and then come back to study Invisibility. I will come back to Cancelling Magical Energies offensively after I master that.


Thoth 12th – 20th
(Complicated notes about invisibility, drawings and sketches, some annotated with ancient dwarven runes, some in Dragonese. They become more and more strained, as the days pass, though the focus does not seem to waver.)



Thoth 21st

I prayed to Thoth today, to kick off the Festival of Thoth, and offered my thanks to him in the pursuit of knowledge. That’s when it hit me! This is Thoth’s Month, and I have been Studying, and I haven’t asked Thoth for help or guidance! I couldn’t believe my stupidity! I offered a day of prayer while I studied, and I feel I truly made a breakthrough on the magical folding of particle wavelengths and the improbable shadow vector solution.

Halfway through the day, the Minotaur started a very raucous party, and didn’t let up till late afternoon. It almost sounded like a battle, but that would be impossible. There were too many pleased sounds coming from the rooms around me. It was highly distracting!


Thoth 22nd

The group returned today. They didn’t spend any time with me, and that is all for the better! I am on a roll, and I think I know not only how I can cast the spell normally, on any object temporarily, but also how to enchant an object to both BE invisible, like my Xama’sconde, and TURN invisible, like Benji’s Now You See Me. Truly, studying my Mace has expedited this, as well as Thoth’s Boon!

(the rest of the day, as well as the next two are full of experimentations, hypothesis, and results.)


Thoth 24th

Eureka! I solved it! I turned myself invisible! Finally!

And now to bed.

(There is a pool of drool on the other side of the page, so I don’t know what was written there.)


Thoth 25th

I feel like an idiot! Of course there were pleased sounds from the cavernous dwellings around my study, that’s where the insurgents raped the captives! The lovely, peace-loving, slightly naïve Etrinan tribe was set upon by Minotaur that they once called brother! They returned with Rune weapons, and destroyed the elders to a bull! I am so angry at myself!

That blessed Librarian, Aesyl, was able to grab some of the knowledge and relics that the other Minotaur were after, and secret himself in a hidden compartment! Like me, he was protected by the gods’ boon, and was not set upon by the vile wretches.

I might have been protected by the Gods’ own luck, like throwing five straight Carriages, but I should have realized what was happening, and fought! There are countless strategies I could have used, especially those used by a tribal warlord of the ancestors of the Wolfen, named Grrighl’agh. He was renowned for tactics of lightning-fast, precise strikes of a lesser force at a larger force, from several different directions, and immediate retreat before the victims could react. It would disorient the armies, and they would miscalculate the numbers of the warriors by at least two hundred percent. I could have done calculated attacks from the shadows, as the lumbering oafs ransacked the holy ruins! The tactic is referred to by the name of that great Warlord, Grrighl’agh Warfare. Though, what his writings talk about how wolf packs attack larger foes, and the idea was derived from there…

I digress. The point is, I feel I should have helped, but I know I couldn’t have changed the outcome, surprised as we were, and unprepared as the Etrinan were. The Reaper’s bill is rarely paid happily. A single life is too much, among those you respect and love!

The attack hit Xerx’ses harder than I would have expected, but not harder than is warranted. Every soldier handles death differently.

Today, we worked on clearing the caverns, and he moved with silent, urgent purpose.


Thoth 26th

After most of the work was done, I urged Xerx’ses to take his mind off of the pain for a bit, as he has been wallowing in the despair of loss for several days, and I didn’t want to see him lost to the darkness. I took out my Scroll of Osiris: Heart of Defense, and talked to him about ‘Scroll Conversion.’ Honestly, it is a practice that is the most asinine, ridiculous method of acquiring magic, but there was no other way we could get a resurrection spell out here in the desert, and it is a good diversion from within. Plus, it’s rife with luck and random chance, which is what spices life, to be sure! If it weren’t so fun, the expectation leading up to it, anticipating the random outcome, I never would try it for how ineffective it is!

My first two tosses of the dice I had assumed came back for naught on the magic front, but my second roll gave me horns and a tail, of all the luck! ‘’Caaaavaaaa stop laaaaghing!’’ I bleated when they opened the door. I had a serious hankering for some greens (which I tried to remedy by trying to eat Overkill’s now-green beard) for about an hour until my tail and horns disappeared. In the meantime, I had some fun trotting around, kicking random stalactites, hearing my bleats echo about the halls, whipping Iana’s tushie with my tail, comparing my horns to Xerx’ses’… you know, normal goat things. Or at least what I can only assume are normal!

I was able to pick up the magic of expelling curses! It makes a twisted sort of sense, being cursed to learn about expelling curses, but either way it resulted in spell knowledge! I love scroll conversion. Back at the guild, the more experienced wizards would take lots and bet on what an apprentice would turn into when converting a scroll to a spell. Luckily, only a handful ever exploded.

Xerx’ses was able to learn the mystic art of healing from his spells. Bad luck for him, he didn’t change shape, size, weight, or anything!! Though, I think his fur might have gotten more blonde… This bears more study…

Power to Osiris, and Glory to Ra.



>>Journal entries from Thoth 4th to 26th in the 22nd Year of Emperor Voelkian Itomas II, from Azariel, Apprentice Alchemist. Acolyte of Osiris and the Lady Luck sent to Sezar, his father. <<
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Log forthcoming, but had to share-
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Log from the game on 8/3/13, from Azariel the Elf- official log entitled "The Battle's Front"

Thoth 26th, 111

We were set upon by a question: How to retrieve Osiris’ Femur. While in Sinza, CrIsis had learned about the Idrijian and Serelan tribes of Minotaur. Supposedly the Serelan are good, following paths of light, and the Idrijian have the Femur, and use it for nefarious deeds. Would we have to talk to the Serelan? Should we avoid them, and just go after the Idrijian? Should we enlist the help of some other force? We couldn’t come to a decision.

That’s when our Ranger suggested we pray for guidance, and what a suggestion that was.

We all knelt, and offered prayers to Thoth for inspiration, so as to better understand the choices before us. Our minds opened.

The heat and humidity of rotting caves blasted our phantom scrying stones, as we beheld the death and destruction before us. Wave after wave of Minotaur crashing upon a solitary stone in the middle of a killing ground. That stone revolved into me and my six companions. As we fought, a light shone down upon us from high above. Two entrances into the cavern, one on either side, spewed Minotaur from north and south at us. A lone Minotaur from the north pumped his fist into the air, with a vicious bovine yawp, urging his discolored horde onward, and in his hand lay the holy bone. Before his growl faded, the light shining down waned, and CrIsis was no more.

Blackness ensued.



Before we could catch our breaths, the same heat and humidity engulfed us. This time, the room was nearly empty, with the elves, Dwarves and humans of Isis’ Champions at the ready, this time with a handful of Minotaur at their sides. For a near eternity, there was no movement. As if the world were crushed by waves of energy, a gout of Minotaur flesh issued forth from the northern cavern entrance. At the head was the warrior wielding Osiris’ Retribution. As the onslaught approached, a shaft of light shot from the Champions, burning away all of the filth assaulting them. The bone clattered to the ground, without mortal hands to support it.

Whiteness ensued.




We opened our eyes, and Iana and Sir Quixis collapsed, drained – everyone was after that. The discussion then changed to interpreting the visions. Though there was some confusion, we concurred that they at least meant that if we did not side with one of the forces of Minotaur, they both would kill us. As the Serelan were those rumored to be righteous, we agreed to search them out first.

Tomorrow we start out on the trek. We have a new ally travelling with us – The Librarian – and he had to get himself ready, not to mention saying goodbye to the only home he’s known outside the worlds of his imagining.

Late, before I was fully asleep, Xerx’ses came to me seething. He said to me, “Apparently I am to stupid to know what I don’t know. Take it.” and tossed a black leather-bound notebook onto my palette. As he turned to leave, I snapped out of my confusion and grabbed the book. I saw that a good number of pages were burnt out of it, and those that remained were blank. Curious.

Thoth 27th, 111

Old Gregg, the wily old rascal has pulled through again! I still have my misgivings, though that’s probably due to my subconscious racism. Growing up in the Western Empire made it impossible to escape the taint of apparencial prejudice, despite my efforts to cover it. He’s leading us directly to the tribal holding, in the middle of the Rocky Desert. Without him, we would have wandered for weeks before stumbling upon a single Minotaur, and we’d have had a fifty percent chance that they were vile minions of the Tentacled.

He reminded us of Benji today. I had tried to push him from my mind, to no avail. He asked us for some alcohol like the kind Benji gave him, of which we have none, so we resorted to drinking the grapefruit-flavored cactus **** for a break from the metallic aftertaste of magically-conjured water from ancient dwarven flasks. He took us to a damp cavern, where we were able to peruse his works of artistic genius, and take respite from the dry heat on the sand. We’ll rest here for the night.

Benji was called by the gods to help his family in the Vequerrel, but I can’t help but feel frustrated at his short time with us. He didn’t seem to make an effort to fit in with the group. I think I might have been judging him too harshly, though, as he is my friend – probably my closest of any made at the Guild. When we meet again, I shall have to apologize for my harsh treatment of him. That will have to wait for a later day, however. I don’t know where he is, so I’d not be able to send him a pigeon.

Thoth 28th, 111

We finally made it to the Serelan Tribe!

We entered their caves at about mid-day, and they took us – after making us relinquish our weapons – to their Elder, Xixin. My innate magical senses were making my hair stand on end in his presence. I later learned it’s because his ancient staff was once part of the Millennial Tree itself! The spear head made it a force to be reckoned with of itself. We talked, the Serelan and CrIsis. As soon as we were all satisfied, though, that we were fighting on the same side, the talks became plans of war.

The Serelan are in a terrible situation – they have taken major losses against the Idrijians, and are now outnumbered two to one. They had no idea why the vile Minotaur were making the advancements they were, with seemingly no losses. Xixin was shocked to learn that they were twisting a holy relic such as the ossal club to such evil purposes.
We decided upon a plan of attack, a variation of hammer and anvil, with the anvil actually slamming down behind them, ramming the hammer through their heads. While we spoke of assets and maneuvers, I couldn’t help but feel a hole in my stomach – I am going to be spending my body’s energy to near-exhaustion before the real fighting begins!

Thoth 29th, 111

I have become accustomed to feeling stupid. There are certain things that you just can’t avoid, and for me it’s stupidity. I sifted through the junk cluttering my bags, and realized that I was missing a live hawk, and a silver holy symbol, both of which are vital to our plans. With frustration at myself burning within I went to Cava, who was preparing his weapons with those of the Serelan that will help us tomorrow. He, graciously as always, agreed to help me with his skills as a tracker.

We slunk across the desert for half the day, and finally made it to a hawk’s nest. Cava rigged a trap, but the hawk barely wriggled out of it. Out of reflex, I cast a carpet of adhesion on the bird’s tiny body, and only after it started to plummet toward the rocky ground did I realize the second bout of stupidity I had had today. Luckily the death’s plunge did not claim our hawk, and we were able to keep it alive, which is more than I can say about myself! In my rush to get down the steep slopes we were on, I slipped on a lose stone, and flew headlong down the rocky decline. I am nursing a few cuts and scrapes, but nothing major is ailing me.

The silver I got from Cava as well. With it, I forged a gorgeous symbol of Isis, which will be able to protect him from evil. As soon as we finish the battle tomorrow, if we survive as the Gods have foretold for us, I will give it to him as a present. Preparations were finished today, and we are as ready as we can be. Tomorrow I draw the circles, and exhaust myself.

Thoth 30th, 111

With my brain taxed, but muscles alive and alert, I pen this utterance of victory! We conquered him!

Xixin and a half-dozen Serelan Minotaur stood with us in the Killing Ground we had seen in the vision. The circles were drawn beforehand, and a force of twenty-five sent as bait for the Idrijian. Cava laid a Tile of Seeing – a gift from the War-Wizard of great value – at a strategic location to tip us off so we could lay the trap. I could have put the ‘Circle of Protection – Undead’ completely blocking the Idrijian’s entrance and exit, but I decided not to. A great war-philosopher once said, ‘You must never completely cut off the enemy’s retreat. A beast fights fiercest when it knows there is no escape.’ For this, I set up a near-perfect wall, a deluge of elemental rain to hedge them in. An anvil, yes, but one made of water, not iron.

Xixin told us, two days ago, that the Idrijian had made a pact with a Vampire Inteligence, and were now counted among the undead. Living in the Western Empire where Vampirism is almost rampant, I’m not a stranger to their vile attributes; as such my heart turned to ice. Vampires are supernaturally powerful versions of their mortal hosts, so a legion of Vampire Minotaur is not something you could never take lightly. It is for this reason alone that an anvil of water was effective, but wasn’t impenetrable. In rain vampires will quickly lose their corpora, but will not die instantly. They could escape with their unlives, but not much more than that.
The bait flew past us, and the trap was sprung. I activated the circle of power, then the circle of protection, and could barely see what happened next, through the fuzz of mental exhaustion that washed over me, almost like you feel when you stand up too fast.

Cava called to me to throw a carpet of adhesion down for the Minotaur, so they couldn’t escape. Angrily I yelled to him – unintelligibly, I might add – that I was spent! I had activated two fracking circles, and was near unconscious! Why couldn’t Xerx’ses do it?

As my mind cleared, I could focus on the battle again. It felt like hours, but was mere seconds, which are the same thing in battle. I saw the great Xixin down, near others of my party. I saw Xerx’ses, bloodied head to foot, charging the Minotaur from our shared vision. I rushed forward to stop the enemy’s retreat, and saw that my spheres of fiery wrath did nothing to him. I called out that it was he, the vile desecrator of Osiris’ body, and the Millenium Spear pierced the filth through. With a final blow from Overkill’s dwarven rage, he died.

It is finished. Magical rain washes my face, and rejuvenates my body as I lay on the cavern’s muddy floor.

Power to Osiris, Glory to Ra.


>>Journal entries from Thoth 26th through 30th in the 22nd Year of Emperor Voelkian Itomas II, from Azariel, Apprentice Alchemist. Acolyte of Osiris and the Lady Luck.<<
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

To celebrate our new player, from Tasmania!!!! here is the first log from Indaris Excellar, human priest of Isis, entitled "The Gods Work in Mysterious Ways"

Father Phillip-

I will write to you to tell you of the wonders I am seeing.

Thoth 30
What a day this has been, I have seen the magnificence of Thoth in his quiet domain, and then with a simple word I was removed from his holy presence and transported to the Baalgor Wastelands, where I first met the (in)famous CrIsis. I appeared at the end of a deadly battle, as members of the group were lying injured. I am glad Lord Thoth gave me time to read about these people, otherwise appearing in a Minotaur Cave in the middle of one of the most dangerous places in the world might have been too much to handle, but I prepared myself as much as I could mentally, but nothing can prepare you for the heat, even underground as we were the heat was stifling, and the smell, the smells of the cave were terrible as well. Hope that you never have to go into a Minotaur lair in a desert as the smell had texture, you could almost imagine the rotting offal everywhere.

I appeared in front of CrIsis as they were perusing a rough drawn map in the dirt, luckily my childhood doodling helped me here and to prove to the strange and terrible people I drew out a rough copy of the map to redo properly but they accepted the rough drawing. I also passed onto them what Lord Thoth said about the danger of the place and we started to leave, this is where we ran into the Serelan Minotaurs who were assaulting this place with the help of CrIsis, and this is were I realised 2 things.

Xerx’ses the Minotaur has the femur of Osiris in his hands, I started shaking with excitement as there had only been rumours of the locations and to actually see a part of Osiris, and the Minotaur was using it as a walking stick, (yep, a walking stick). The other was that Xerx’ses had a sword sticking out of his chest like it was a splinter in his finger and the others took no mind of it either, and it wasn’t a cut, it was a sword, sticking into him.
Who have I gotten entangled with?

Luckily Lord Thoth had me read the books of CrIsis otherwise the whole next set of encounters would have made little sense, but we met with the Leader of the Serelan Minotaur, Xixin, gave him the rough drawn map of the Lair we were in so he could gain a tactical advantage and we left as per Lord Thoth’s warning.


Then we met a Vrill.
Vrill are very strange creatures, this one was called Old Gregg, and spoke strangely, though he seemed to be a friendly enough fellow, who had met the party before. Old Gregg greeted Azariel like they were very old friends and agreed to lead us through the Desert, he seemed to be somewhat amorously inclined and things like being of a different species seemed to make no difference, but for him to be there waiting for us I would have to say he is a staunch friend of CrIsis, and proved this by being here and then leading us off, so I thought I would give him as much leeway as possible, as the desert wouldn’t have much room for fun. I would go on about the desert but others with more skill with the pen then I have, have mentioned things about it, but the rocks were sharp, and its hotter a blacksmiths forge in the height of summer. The air draws the very moisture from your mouth as you breathe, it is very discomforting.


Late that afternoon while traveling Old Gregg darted into some rocks off to our right, I think to hide, Cava took on after him, making sure he was all right, I could barely even walk properly as I am not carrying the proper equipment here so I could only look on in amazement as Cava overcame the heat and nimbly followed Old Gregg. That’s when I noticed a group of figures up ahead, friends from times past. Unfortunately all the information I had read at Thoth’s feet is still jumbled in my head, but this was a group lead by Mollinur the Dwarf, companion of Overkill’s in previous days and other diverse characters, but I did notice that one of his companions seemed to be a fellow priest or devout follower, so once the introductions had been made we kept moving until darkness as this place is very dangerous. We made a little camp near the cave this group had stayed at earlier and we all started to relax. I naturally gravitated to this Minotaur fellow to talk to him, which was a problem as we spoke not the same languages though we tried, until I called upon the magic of My Lady of Light to translate for us, then we had a very good talk, he would have enjoyed staying up chatting with Father Phillip I think.

I always thought Minotaurs were mindless flesh eating monsters, but they seem to have varied ideas amongst themselves, just like humans, and apparently some of them feel great guilt over what their Forebears have done in the past, but they are trying to atone, and this one follows the teaching of Rurga my amazement at this was profound, I’d love to see what some of those Palladins in the Eastern Territories would say if they found that a Minotaur was worshiping Rurga, and was indeed accepted by her.

After our talk over our evening meal I found out that I wasn’t accepted to CrIsis yet, even though I had the Ring and was sent by Lord Thoth himself. We went into the cave for a private chat, and by we I mean just Xerx’ses, Overkill, Cava, Azariel and myself. The party then ‘redacted for security’.

After that the party then agreed to my request and handed over a hair each, and surprise of surprises the Dwarf gave me a small braid of his beard to sacrifice to Isis, and after all that has happened to his pride he handed it over, it was a worthy sacrifice so I restored them all to health. I then called upon the powers of Isis and created bread and milk and we shared our bountiful meal with the others in the party. By this time Xerx’ses was much more comfortable, with the fact that the sword was no longer protruding from his chest. Minotaurs must be very enduring because that sort of wound, and the trek that followed surely would have killed a lesser being.
By this stage we all were ready for sleep and went to our respective bedrolls and slept.

2nd of Kym-nark-mar

The Sun rose in the morning, no where else have I found Lord Ra’s powers expressed so greatly, and before the sun had risen a handspan above the horizon the terrible heat returned. It seems that Troker is going to be our new destination, rather than a missing Flail. I have heard stories of Troker, and they all warn that you will never find a more wretched hive of Scum and Villainy, and that you must be very cautious as any thing goes. So we head off towards Troker and the leaders of the two groups get into an argument that i guess wouldn’t have happened if Overkill hadn’t been a Dread Pirate himself, It was dragging along until the Minotaur, fed up by the insults let his anger get the better of them and joined in, and nothing quite gets you attention then a Minotaur letting his anger loose. I’m glad he’s with me. The argument wound down then (and it was over gold of all things, we are doing the bidding of the gods and the 2 Dwarf leaders are arguing over $%#%^$ Gold.)

I probably would have been more sympathetic with Mollinur if he wasn’t taking his anger and greed out on everyone, effecting a great mission given to us from the very gods themselves, and they are arguing about gold. The only word that comes to mind is Dwarfs!!!!

In Faith-
Indaris
Sent on the 2nd day of Kym-nark-mar in the 22nd Year of Emperor Voelkian Itomas II.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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We just broke the 250 fans mark! Thanks to all of you that read, and if you have not checked out more than just the logs I post here in the forums, I suggest you do! We are averaging 7 logs a game- every 2 weeks... Link is here.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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olsio wrote:
zyanitevp wrote:At any rate, beyond some minor squabbles over “mltailor Halloween uniform costumes nurse uniform costumes” (clearly defined in the New Navy Personnel Manual), and the fortuitous yet unlikely commingling of our august personages (i always wanted to say that…), dinner, such as it was.
commenced without interruption or hazard.

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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Here is the official log from our game on the 31st of August, from Xerx'ses, the Minotaur Wizard.... a truly tortured soul...."Never Forget, Never Forgive a Sin"



=======
| Reader Note: This has been
| sent to Brother Malkin
| of the Library of Bletherad.
=======

Dear Brother Malkin,

To recap, first let me apologize for failing in accomplishing your request.

First, we did make it to my Minotaur Tribe’s Home: The Fortress of Etrinan and seed library of the Dwarves from what your excitement tells me. The youth had split into 3 groups and left with the rune weapons we had at our disposal. One of the groups lead by a former friend of mine, Groun’na, was seduced to working for Anubis and teamed up with a nearby tribe of Utu worshiping cannibal minotaurs. They murdered everyone except my tribe’s lorekeeper, Master Aesyl. He has given Master Azariel a book of magic that I was always to dumb to read, or so I have been told on more than one occasion. It took five days to to burn everyone to deny the cannibals a meal and make sure no one could raise the dead for some other nefarious purpose.

The library has been ransacked, if we ever meet again I will submit to a mind mage of your choosing so you may have my memories of what I saw of my home, Minotaur life in my tribe, the rune weapons, everything. I can’t bring you books but maybe I can bring you knowledge. I am sorry eons ago my ancestors were evil bastards and subjugated your people along with the Gods, dragons, and others. I am learning the world will never forget and likely never forgive. I know in the scheme of time I will mean nothing but I am sorry for that.

Hopefully, Commander Gleba has kept in touch with you. I have asked him to spread the good word as a bard of CrIsis and he has done so with fervent glee known only among the Elves of old!

We helped the good Minotaurs of the Serelan Tribe defeat the evil Minotaurs of the Idrijian Tribe, that worshiped the Old Ones! We have recovered another piece of the Lawgiver! I now have a piece of divinity entrusted to me.

We began the 2nd of Kym-nark-mar in the Sandy Desert of the Baalgor Wastelands. We are headed to the coastal city known as Troker. We were traveling with Master Overkill’s companions from his pirate days. Their leader’s name was Mollinur and he’s a Dwarf as well, but clearly Master Overkill, was a lot meaner in those ‘older’ days.

Well this morning after prayer being led by an actual priest, Brother Indaris, just remember in Timiro the " a " sounds like a " u " sound so its Induris for pronouncing it.
Must be a Hooman dialect.
The good priest had a thought about getting us out of the Wastelands with a scroll from his Goddess. I think it would have worked had none of my kind been present, Lady Isis still hates us for my ancestors actions. Amazing, side conversation during the noble attempt was Mollinur trying to get double pay if he or his people were hurt. Nice to hear in what order he clarified his concern, spoke volumes.

Pirates

What was settled was 10% bonus for injury while our Priest of Isis, their hooman Priest of Rurga, their two wizards (one hooman, one elf), Master Azariel and myself participated in the ritual. After it failed the good priest did call upon the powers of the Gods of Light to make the weapons we carry, Holy for the day. While that was happening an Eandroth Caravan approached our group which sent the rest of our parties on guard.

I remember thinking how happy Mollinur was to see the wagons being hauled by the great lizards of the wastelands. At least as long as I am tall and two or three of my weight. The rest of them were riding on Silonars or lizard horses of the Wastelands. The train consisted of about 50-75 Eandroth and their 10 hired Quorian guards. They began trading when I over heard some of the Quorians talking with the Hooman priest of Rurga. The words “Yes he has it,” were said and while I wanted to hear more I am not a rogue by nature, sneaking is beyond my wheelhouse as it were.

Master Azariel was watching camp less the traders try to replenish their stock and sell us our supplies, ha ha ha! Makes me chuckle thinking about it I am not sure why. Most of the others tried to pick up apparel from Mologoth lizard hide to protect themselves from the blisters on their feet each night. The sand is so hot it will char normal sources of leather. I watch quietly from a vantage one only has when they are 11 feet tall. Master Cava and Mistress Iana were shopping for her as well as the good priest. Master Overkill was looking at rings and hats, and I thought the day was shaping up to be nice, well that kinda happened.

It turns out that Mollinur stole some axes from the Quorians at a prior meeting before, and the Hooman Rurgan priest, and Minotaur Holy Palladin of Rurga felt that he should atone for his crime! He almost got away with it by offering his beard to atone! I have read much and know what it would mean for a dwarf to give his beard! The Eandroth were unconvinced of the validity of honor even though the Quorians knew how big a deal it was for this offer to be made. They denied his offer and out of the nine companions we were left with three as the others were forced into working off the debt for a period of time. Mollinur tried to get Master Overkill to help him and he asked us I lightly bopped him on the head to reset his moral compass. Turns out that worked, who knew!

The Hooman Rurgan priest, the Minotaur Holy Palladin of Rurga, and Drak’U’San the Minotaur mercenary warrior were all that was left to guide us to Troker.

It is now the 3rd of Kym-nark-mar we continue to head north. In the morning after I had finished my prayers that I had said every day, and had been inscribed on the Prayer Flail I lost when I had briefly died in the Baalgor Mountains a few weeks ago. There was some commotion regarding a engraved silver skull! We were trying to determine its nature and was there a body since it was found last night by Drak’U’San, Master Overkill and our Minotaur Holy Palladin of Rurga.

Master Aesyl wanted to help and I somehow dismissed him, because he got very cross with me about pushing into the grave early. I felt 23 again getting hit by a book when I didn’t keep at my studies. You know, Brother Malkin I didn’t even know he had mental powers, but Master Aesyl can tell the history of an object by touching it! No wonder he could tell me about all the books I found, and now he’s gone! I will explain later in this missive but Master Aesyl died the following day on the 4th. The skull was part of the collection of a Gargoyle Mage and belonged to an ancient demon hunter called, Arhaleg Hescu.

Even a busted sun dial is right once a day, a few weeks back I had mentioned the idea to do weekly inspections of CrIsis’s items, to make sure that we weren’t being followed or tracked, or monitored by the forces of Darkness. When CrIsis stayed at the Tri Arcanum Guild in Wisdom, the Location Tiles were affixed into our bags. Cava, myself, and Overkill’s backpacks had tiles. Upon closer inspection of the symbol, Master Azariel noticed that it was Gantrium, a very mystical metal and he looked like I had kicked him.

Rurgarians asked if we could get going and not waste the day. We did get moving and Master Aesyl has kept the Silver Skull. The rest of the day passed without incident as we moved north once more.

It is now the 4th of Kym-nark-mar and we pray for around half and hour glass this morning. Nothing during that prayer gave me the slightest clue about how much death I would see this day. Master Azariel and Mistress Iana talk about his version of prayer involving dice and chance, I found myself tracing ancient Dwarven in the dirt that was carved into my lost flail while the Rurga followers pray to their Lady of Truth. Then it just happened, as though the Gods of the Yin-Sloth wished to repay us for tearing a gash in their jungle a Tornado dropped down right front of us.

The hot sand became coarse FIRE I tried to grab for Master Aesyl and came up with the hand of the Hooman Priest of Rurga! I saw the Palladin of Rurga try to save Master Aesyl and both were raked up by the GOD’S WRATH and torn asunder.

WHY HIM! WHY HIM! I couldn’t even save the one I grabbed! I had him by the hand and his arm ripped at the elbow!

When the tornado passed I saw Master Azariel clutching Mistress Iana’s arm and I cried, she had finally made me realize I might be able to love someone other than Luur’na. I had begun having feelings for her and she was gone. Master Cava handed one of his Holy Scrolls to Brother Indaris and began praying, in a few minutes a glowing replica of Osiris’ Heart appeared above his head, showing the Lawgiver’s love.

The elf maiden and Hooman Priest of Rurga were saved, praise be to the Gods of Light they were saved. Mistress Iana hugged Master Azariel, and I knew.

I’m not an elf, I will never be as brave as her, as benevolent, as caring. Besides everything I have cared for has been taken from me. When the gods are done with me I will be discarded along with re-written histories making me some human wizard that could become a Minotaur.

I am a monster to Lady Isis, her thug, nothing more.

If I go home the remaining tribe of younglings maybe harmed, the last adult I have known is gone. I can’t go anywhere I am not hated for something the vile ancestors of my past can never be forgiven for.

I am a monster, fit only to fight the other monsters threatening the Gods of Light. In that epiphany I saw a hawk, this was no buzzard that fed on carrion so it had no business being here and it looked like one I had turned into! I activated the powers of the femur of my lord and smote the bird with lightning! When one bolt did not kill it I knew it was an enhanced familiar or a metamorphosed mage!

ZAP! The bird begins to falter

ZAP! It falls to its doom, soon replaced by a rumbling thunder that spelled nothing good. Looks as though its time for a thug of Isis to earn his pay. I did not realize it at the time but this is a Dwarven Juggernaut! A land war machine and mobile battering ram used during the Great War of the Fair and the Strong. It was being piloted by Dwarvlings (we found out the race of the pilots after we had survived) and flanked by scores of walking dead and skeletons. Sir Quixis ran up and stood before and told the villains to come for him, CrIsis and Horus would crush them into oblivion! Drak’U’San the Minotaur & Overkill ran up to join him as the rest of us readied for battle, and into the breach we go once more.

As the battle raged I was rote casting what I thought was useful magic and trying to think about Master Aesyl. Then it hit me! If I used the spell Carpet of Adhesion I could stop the Juggernaut from moving forward! As Master Azariel began to Turn the dead with spell weaving I heard the best prayer!

Indaris: World Mother, please hear my prayer, this monstrosity is an insult to the gods. Queen of the underworld, please hear my prayer, This foul making is an insult to the safety of home She Who Embraces the Earth, please hear my prayer The Unliving directing this dark thing is an insult to the sanctity of life, She Who Seeks Shelter for the Weak, please hear my prayer Give me the strength to fight this darkness in your name

Master Cava and Mistress Iana, ran past us to aid Sir Quixis and she had a rose colored glowing sword of psychic energy!

I cast Fleet Feet to increase what I could do after I dropped a patch of Carpet of Adhesion to block the walking dead from getting at us. The now strengthened Brother Indaris held forth the Holy symbol of Lady Isis and called out once again!

Beasts of the Darkness, I reject thee, Beasts of Darkness, I rebuff thee, Beasts of darkness I reject thee, May the the Ray of the Sun to drive your foul form back to the dark whence you came. Show not your face to the light of Lord Ra again. = Turn Dead

Cava leapt on the Juggernaut and Mistress Iana missed her land and was rolled over!

NO not again! I cast Carpet of Adhesion on the wheels as Master Azariel dropped a Cloud of Slumber on the wheelhouse. My plan worked and the beast machine careened to a halt and tipped on its side toward us! I tried to get underneath and save the elf maiden, but I saw the Priest of Isis, and I couldn’t let him die anymore than anyone else. scooping him up I made a run for it having cast a strength spell on myself.

Iana lived! Master Overkill was crushed and died, however, having saved the priest of Isis his scroll was still active and brought the good dwarf back to us!!!! I thought I had lost her again. Still it’s easy to hide tears when no one can look you in the eye, height being what it is.

Most everyone has seen enough death or just to cope they threw themselves into figuring out how the Dwarven Juggernaut worked while Master Azariel and I looked over some of the dead, and realized that one of them was not dead yet. He was not long for the world, going on and on about the Vampire God but his necklaces intrigued me. After I expired I tried to remove the one I thought was the most intriguing since it had radiated magic.

I touched the clasp. Master Cava was trying to say something and – Darkness.

Every few minutes I could feel my life force being drained away and replace with wounds! I have never let go of The Lawgiver’s Femur clutching it for dear life. I was nearly dead when my friends’ voices appeared but kept moving around the room. I stayed in one place having been drained, cut, stabbed, bruised though no weapon or person touched me. Master Overkill had an ingenious idea on how to find me with the Lawgiver’s finger as a divining rod towards me. When Sir Quixis called down the holy sunlight of Horus we finally found our way back at the Juggernaut.

I hope this serves as a better update than the last missive you received.

Xerx’ses Goldenflail – thug of the Gods of Light


>>> Written by Xerx’ses Goldenflail,
upon the 4th of Kym-nark-mar the year 111. <<<
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

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Glad to see this still going. I sent someone over to your Obsidian Portal page to check your game out today.
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Re: Campaign Logs from A God...Rebuilt

Unread post by zyanitevp »

Juce734 wrote:Glad to see this still going. I sent someone over to your Obsidian Portal page to check your game out today.

Thanks! Still plugging away, and getting ready for the Lopanic Games Trials!
Next log will be up by Monday the 14th.
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