Eberron Adventure Journal: The Fall of Long Shadows

Vult 10 - Vult 25, YK 998

Part One - Dragon's Return
After bringing Gunter Hegerin back to the Golden Dragon and explaining to the ambassadors what had happened, thus preventing the breakout of a new war, the Wolves spent a few days in Stormreach. Their newest ally Maechen shopped at the magic shops for magic inks and pages so that he could scribe some of Gunter's spells on the journey back. The Golden Dragon disembarked for Sharn on Vult 20.

During the journey, Pel took time to talk to Zan, the Tyrant and former employee of his father about what he'd discovered. Zan revealed that he had been undercover in Cord's organization, and that he had discovered plans involving a coup against the Tyrant's council. They weren't specific, but what worried him was that the names of Pel and Xain were both there. Zan wasn't sure what this meant, if Vadis' own son was against him, and he fled rather than worry about being assassinated for uncovering something he shouldn't. He asked that Pel not report what happened to Vadis or anyone, to let Zan live in his new life aboard the Golden Dragon.

Lysander had come down with something in Xen'drik, and it only worsened on the journey back. By the time the Golden Dragon arrived in Sharn on Vult 23, he was nauseous and extremely tired. When the ship arrived to find a small party of well-wishers, Lysander wasn't even well enough to offer performances or stories.

As the rest of the Wolves disembarked into the warm rain of an evening in Sharn, they were accosted by officers of the Wharf Watch. They told the Wolves that they had been tipped off that the adventurers might be carrying unauthorized salvage from Xen'drik, and that they would need to return that and face fines. Before the adventurers could react, however, a House Orien courier pushed his way to the front of the crowd and handed the officer a letter of marque, indicating that the Wolves had been operating under the auspices of House Cannith since Vult 3.

The courier also handed Pel a letter, carrying the familiar seal of Lady Elaydren d'Cannith. After Pel tipped him, Brand stopped the courier to explain that he had recently regained his memory (a convenient lie to explain his disappearance) and was seeking to rejoin House Orien. The courier helpfully suggested Terminus in Tavick's Landing, but suggested that Brand be careful, as the area was heavily influenced by the criminal gang known as the Tyrants. This, of course, was good news to Brand, given his connections within that group.

Councilor Sava Kharisa of the Lower Central Ward also greeted the Wolves, especially Pel, quite warmly, and was introduced to their newest member Maechen Eyre. She asked if Pel and the others could visit her gallery sometime in the next couple of days, before the Nights of Long Shadows, a three day holiday of danger and monsters which would begin on Vult 26.

Meanwhile, an envoy from House Phiarlan delivered a small package to Lysander. Upon opening it, he reported to the Wolves that he had been summoned by his house, and that he would see them later in the week. They bid him well and wished him better health, and he got into a waiting skycoach to depart.

Part Two - Old Haunts and New Friends
Before heading over to the Guild Hall and their usual drinking spot of The Drunken Dragon, The Wolves stopped by a Sivis message station so that Brand could send a message to his mother in the Eldeen Reaches, telling her that he was alright and that he would talk to her soon.

Then it was off to Upper Dura and the Clifftop District, where the adventurers stopped in with their guild. They arranged to add Maechen to the charter of the Wandering Wolves, as well as change the status of Tworock and Brand. From there, they went to grab a drink and read Lady Elaydren's letter at The Drunken Dragon.

Before settling into their private table, Pel spotted an old friend, the young mage Elias Volan whom they had hired to help them with a cockatrice problem. Volan greeted them happily, glad to see them survive Xen'drik, and introduced his new adventuring band, made up of a human rogue named Huran, a human cleric of the Sovereign Host named Wertham Althoreus and a beautiful half-elven girl named Beless Diaphran, who was putting on quite a singing performance on the stage. After exchanging general pleasantries, and giving Wertham the flametouched iron holy symbol of the Host that they had found, earning a pleased if restrained response, the Wolves settled back into their private table.

There they read the letter from Lady Elaydren. It was brief, saying only that she needed to see them at her townhouse in Parlan Tower as soon as was convenient, but that it wasn't as urgent as most of her missives had been, and could certainly wait until after they'd rested a bit from their recent journeys.

Feeling the need for rest, the group agreed to head to bed for the night and meet again at Gareth's Gear in the morning. Pel returned to the apartment of Malfiore' LeQuande, while Brand, Luggoth and Maechen all bunked at the guildhall. Before they did, they offered up the Silver Holy Symbol of Vulkoor that they had found as a trophy for the hall, which the bartender, Mira d'Ghallanda, happily mounted over the bar.

Part Three - Matters of Finance:
The next morning (Vult 24), Pel joined the group and they walked over to Gareth's Gear, explaining to Maechen that they had a good arrangement going with this store, and that one of the former Wolves worked there. Only Brand and Pel knew that Gareth was Pel, and that the Wolves owned the shop.

They were pleased to discover that Gareth's Gear had some nicer fixtures, a magically lighted sign and other indications that it had been doing well. They were enthusiastically greeted by their dwarven manager, Jalis ir'Mroranon, who reported that she didn't have any excess profits to give them but the store had been doing quite well. Tock wasn't there, out doing some work, but Jalis helped them put their spoils into the inventory, at least what wasn't divided amongst themselves, and from the general treasury they each earned about 5000 gold, plus close to 350 to put into the Kundarak account.

When they were done cashing in their treasure, the Wolves disembarked for various errands, agreeing to meet up again at mid-day at the Drunken Dragon. Brand waited for Tock, and when he got there he gave him a list of items he was hoping to have made, including a wand of cure moderate wounds for the party and gloves of dexterity and a bag of tricks (rust) for himself. Tock worked up the expenses, which Brand paid, and Tock told him it would probably be about a week and a half until he could get all of the items crafted.

Pel, Dura, Luggoth and Maechen walked together back to the Dura quarter and stopped in at The Dragon's Hoard. Pel bought himself an Infinite Scroll Case, then made his way to a variety of scroll shops in the Mystic Market to outfit himself with enough scrolls to make the new device worthwhile. Luggoth purchased Gauntlets of Ogre Power at The Dragon's Hoard, and then made his way down into Middle Dura, looking for a new place to live. He found something he liked while wandering around the districts, finding the unusual (some might say mad) district of Hareth's Folly, and purchasing a cheap, one room apartment outright for 200 gp.

Maechen didn't find anything to his taste at The Dragon's Hoard immediately, and instead walked down the road to the Esoteric Order of Aureon, a prominent Wizard's Circle in Sharn. After talking with the mages at length, and deciding that he wished to join their ranks, he paid the princely initiation sum of 2500 gold for his first annual membership.

The Wolves met once again at the Drunken Dragon and, deciding that they were hungry, stumbled upon a little restaurant named Kavv's, which served an intriguing blend of Khorvairian food styles, using spices and vegetables the adventurers hadn't seen before. The meals were cheap but exquisite in quality, and the adventurers vowed to "remember this place" when they were in the area of their guild or usual tavern.

Walking through Sharn to get to the Central Plateau, the Wolves decided to stop in and make deposits on both their personal accounts and the Wolves' group account. It was there that they were introduced to Rochus D'Kundarak, a dwarven Silver Key and security specialist who told them that he had been assigned as their personal banker, and would be happy to help with security, deposits, letters of credit and other financial matters.

Part Four - A Lady Takes Her Leave:
After dealing with their finances, the Wolves walked down into Middle Central and met Lady Elaydren at her townhome in Parlan Tower. She greeted them warmly, introducing herself to Maechen, and asked after the adventurers, offering them fine snacks and wine from Aundair. After a little bit of small talk, Lady Elaydren got into why she had invited the adventurers to her home, and why she had known to provide them with a post-dated letter of marque.

She explained that Lady Sharri d'Deneith had visited her a couple weeks ago, and had urged Elaydren to cut all ties with the Wolves. She offered up quite a dossier, pointing out that the Wolves had ties to the Tyrants and the Daask, that they served at least one rival house in Phiarlan and that one in their midst (Luggoth) had a history of being a drifter who committed violence against worshipers of the Silver Flame. She also made noises about them "plundering Xen'drik illegally," which tipped off Elaydren to expect her ploy with the Wharf Watch upon their return. She secured a letter of marque for the Wolves, not wishing them to get into trouble.

Elaydren told the Wolves they didn't have to worry, that they had been loyal and helpful friends, but that she would be talking to them less often. Not because of Lady Sharri's insistence, but rather because she and her fiance were moving to Aundair, where they could become more involved in House Cannith operations there. They were leaving in the first week of Zaratyr, the next month. However, she did deliver invitations to the Wolves, including invitations for Tworock, Kanatash and Tock, for her wedding, to take place in about three months, during the first week of Therendor.

Lady Elaydren bid the Wolves farewell, hoping that they would see her either before she left or at least at her wedding in Aundair.

Part Five - Goodfellas & Goblins:
From Lady Elaydren's townhouse, the Wolves wandered down into the Lower Central Plateau, where they found Sava's Gallery in the Stone Towers. Councilor Kharisa Sava's gallery was quite impressive, especially given its relatively provincial location, and as the Wolves were looking around, Kharisa approached them and welcomed them. Pel, wanting to continue building a useful relationship with the councilor, impressed her by discussing some of the historical elements in some of the paintings. This probably had something to do with her inviting Pel to dine with her at some point in the future.

However, she also offered it as payment for services. Specifically, she warned that the Boromar Clan, always active in her district, was getting increasingly pushy in the last month. Asking merchants for increasing amounts of "protection" money with increasing frequency, resorting to violence more quickly, that kind of thing. She asked if the Wolves would be willing to make their presence known in Lower Central a little bit, to intimidate the Boromar enforcers the way they had been intimidating the merchants and common people in the area. Pel reluctantly agreed, not wanting to step on too many toes given his own maneuvering in the world of crime.

As they left Kharisa Sava's gallery, intent on finding a spot for dinner, the Wolves discussed what they thought was going on with the Boromar Clan. They had heard from various people that the Boromar and Daask were engaged in various squabbles, and that it was only getting worse, and many suggested that given the Daask's monstrous population, they might make some kind of move during the Night of Long Shadows.

After dining at a restaurant in the Olladra's Kitchen district of the Central Plateau, the adventurers wandered the city asking questions and looking for information. Pel and Maechen teamed up and found out that the Boromar had been acquiring explosive glyphs, ogre- and goblin-bane weapons and out-of-town assassins and mercenaries with experience fighting monsters.

While Maechen retired to his new quarters with the Esoteric Order of Aureon, Luggoth returned to a few games of chance and drinks at the King's Tavern and then home to his new apartment and Brand again rented a room at the Clifftop Guild Hall, Pel had a busy night. First, he shifted into his guise as a scabby half-orc hobo and did some begging and information gathering in the Daask controlled Malleon's Gate district of Lower Dura. What he discovered was that the Daask had also been making noises about violence, and he guessed that the Boromar were gearing up for war in a defensive nature, expecting an attack from the Daask.

After that, Pel went down to the Cracked Mirror tavern to meet with Xain, his contact with the Tyrants. Given that Pel still didn't trust Xain after the theft of the schema and the creation pattern, and what he had heard from Zan, it was a rather frosty meeting. Especially when Xain revealed that Vadis, Pel's father, had ordered him and the rest of the Wolves to steer clear of the Emerald Claw, as the Tyrants were building an information-gathering alliance with them. Pel didn't believe the orders truly came from his father, and he demanded to speak with him directly, but Xain wouldn't budge. Trying to get further, Pel mentioned Zan to Xain, who was quite insistent about finding out what Pel knew. Pel simply stormed out, telling Xain that he would tell his father what he knew. He then returned to LeQuande's apartment to get some rest, and sleep in late until the next morning.

Part Six - Preludes and Developments:
The next day, Vult 25, was the last day before the city and indeed much of Khorvaire would endure the dominance of dark magic known as Long Shadows. As such, the city was both somber and rushed, holding its collective breath wondering what the nights would bring while doing their best to get last minute preparations made for three long nights gathered around fires against the darkness roaming the streets.

As arranged the day before, the Wolves met again at the Drunken Dragon, this time for a short but pleasant lunch. Pel finished the last of his information gathering for the Wolves by bringing Brand information he had learned about Terminus, the House Orien enclave in Tavick's Landing. He had learned that there was a cult of the Traveler inside Orien, but didn't find out many specifics about their role in the Sharn branch of the House. He found a man named Markus Hume d'Orien, Minister of Scheduling for Terminus, and believed that he might be receptive to Brand. Markus had no love for the politics of the House, believing their role to be a public service rather than a gods-given right. Brand resolved to seek Markus out later that day.

Luggoth, inspired by the notion of the violence of the Long Shadows, decided to look into the Silver Flame temples in the area. Maechen, still observing Luggoth in the name of the Prophecy, tried to follow him, but the canny shifter had no trouble detecting his shadow, and he turned things around on him, coming up behind Maechen and grabbing him by the throat. He growled at Maechen to stop following him, insisting that he didn't care about the Propecy, and Maechen diplomatically demurred, taking his leave to go back and find his quarters in the Esoteric Order of Aureon once more.

Free to scope out the Silver Flame temples, Luggoth was unsurprised to see that they were well-guarded, ready to defend against the depredations of monsters. What did surprise him was that he saw some shifters, obviously worshipers of the Flame, going into the temple. This inspired him to head back to the King of Fire and get roaring drunk before passing out in his apartment, roughly an hour before the Long Shadows began. If Maechen was right about Luggoth's role in the Prophecy, it clearly wasn't going to start tonight.

Brand, for his part, summoned his courage and returned to the world he had left behind long ago, the world of House Orien. He went into the enormous lightning rail station Terminus and found the office of Markus d'Orien. When he introduced himself, Markus knew a little about Brand's story already, and had clearly heard of his uncle Aeromus. It was also clear that Markus had little use for Aeromus, although he did share the bad news with Brand that Aeromus had risen to a position on the ruling council in Passage, Aundair.

Markus quickly agreed to hire Brand on as security for the caravans and lightning rails, and mentioned that they had a Blade of Orien working for the Sharn enclave who headed up security in general. He was in Thrane, but would be back within the next week or two. Markus also spoke plainly to Brand, telling him that he understood a desire for vengeance against Aeromus and justice for his father Traega, but that Markus would be of no help in that regard. He wouldn't hamper Brand, and indeed promised to bury the paperwork so that Aeromus wouldn't immediately know of his nephew's return to the fold, but neither would he be a political ally, choosing instead to remain neutral.

Pel stopped in at Sava's Gallery to warn the councilor of what he had heard, and then made himself visible, in his half-elven Wandering Wolves guise, hoping to catch the attention of someone in the Tyrants. Someone he hoped would be looking for him. Someone was, but it wasn't his father, or at least she didn't present herself as such. A stern, somewhat cold woman who introduced herself as Yelena talked to Pel, expressing no small amount of irritation but also conveying a message of pride from his father. She repeated Xain's instructions about the Emerald Claw, and told Pel that he had successfully gotten rid of Xain as a contact, but that she would be his go-between. It was dangerous, she reminded him, for him to see his father directly.

Unhappy with this new contact, Pel insisted upon seeing his father, making allusions to the alliance he and Lysander had been planning between House Phiarlan and the Tyrants. Yelena promised that Pel would see his father after the Long Shadows, that Vadis would come to Malfiore' LeQuande's apartment. Pel would be there, as the day was getting long, and it wouldn't be long before the Long Shadows fell upon Sharn...

Upcoming Schedule - February through April

Schedule time is here again! This is all maybe a little more tentative than usual, as Mat (our fearless Cthulhu GM) has potential work overload, and I am going to be stressed and overloaded as well. I think almost everybody on this blog knows already, but for the two or three of you who don't, I am buying the Round Rock Dragon's Lair, and if all goes as planned (keep your fingers crossed) the purchase will take place on February 19th. I plan to lose the rest of my hair from stress by the end of the week. So anyway, there's every possibility that I might have to bail on a February or March game, but I *think* I'll still be able to (and probably really need to) game.

At any rate, as always, folks let me know if there are changes that need to be made to the schedule. I'm assuming Ravenloft's first arc will be five sessions, if it's more or less we'll move Eberron until the first arc is done. And as with last month, I'm forecasting further out, even though I'm sure there will be changes between now and April.

February 2nd - Character Building - Ravenloft
February 9th - Expedition to Castle Ravenloft (First Story Arc)
February 16th - Expedition to Castle Ravenloft (First Story Arc)
February 23rd - Poker Game

March 2nd - No Gaming - STAPLE!
March 9th - Expedition to Castle Ravenloft (First Story Arc)
March 16th - Expedition to Castle Ravenloft (First Story Arc)
March 23rd - Expedition to Castle Ravenloft (First Story Arc)
March 30th - Poker Game

April 6th - Eberron: The Demons' Prophecy Part One
April 13th - Eberron: The Demons' Prophecy Part Two
April 20th - Poker Game
April 27th - Eberron: The Demons' Prophecy Part Three

Figure in May, we'll finish up Eberron, have a poker game and then start either Chris's teenage delinquent Champions game or, if that's not ready, go back for another round of Ravenloft. What say ye?

Christmas for Lysander

Jason, Lysander picked up a few magic items when we divided up treasure and did a little shopping. He still has his own cash to spend, of course. 5,000 gold pieces all for you. Don't forget that if you spend some EXP, Tock can create scrolls, potions and Wonderous Items. Here's a few other goodies for you:

Scroll: Cure Light Wounds
Scroll: Invisibility
Wand: Cure Moderate Wounds (50)
Here's the half empty: you need to remove the Wand of Cure Light Wounds from your character sheet. Lysander gave that to Brand in exchange for his spiffy new wand.

Merry Christmas!

Edited by Randy to add: Lysander also owes 31 XP as his share of the creation of a wand of Cure Moderate Wounds.

Oh, and Lysander had some adventures that the rest of the Wolves don't know about yet. I'll email you about those, or possibly just tell you when I see you for gaming on Friday.

Eberron Adventure Journal: The Wrath of Vulkoor (2)

Vult 9 - Vult 10, YK 998

Part Five: Scorpion's Sting
The journey back into the jungle and to the drow shrine took about four hours on horseback. To no one's surprise, Halas Martain begged off coming along, and so it was that Maechen, Lysander, Luggoth, Brand and Pel journeyed off to rescue Gunter Hegerin from a fate he probably deserved. On the way, Maechen rode alongside the dour Luggoth, explaining to him that he had been sent by his draconic master to observe Luggoth and his part in the prophecy. Maechen recited the passage of the Prophecy, which was: "In the year that an empire of blood strikes against the goddess of blood, a child will be born to a pack of wild men. This tribe, part beast, part man, will roam the land where Xoriat touched the trees and all within. This child, after twenty summers have passed but before twenty five, will find his destiny. He will lose all he holds dear at the hands of evil, and choose instead allies willfully wearing the mark of the wolf, some also bearing the marks of the dragon, to struggle against terrible forces. He will stand and be judged by gods, men and demon alike. He will face his own righteous anger. He will struggle with his own nature. And his decision will tilt the balance." Lysander thought this definitely sounded like Luggoth, but Luggoth himself wasn't so sure, having little interest in prophecy.

Eventually, their journey took them to a rope bridge crossing a deep chasm, which Hackrazet had told them would be about 100 feet or so from the drow temple. Wary of ambush and expecting drow trouble, the group drank antitoxin from the party's store of supplies. Brand then decided to do some scouting, using a scroll of talk to animal to speak with a nearby bird and send him on a scouting mission across the way. The bird gave them enough information to realize that there was a Scorrow with the drow, but didn't spot any of their foes hiding in the forest and undergrowth the other side of the bridge.

Lysander cast invisibility on Brand, who crossed the bridge. About halfway across, he spotted a drow hunter hidden in the underbrush, but when he realized that the drow couldn't see him, he continued on. Slowly, he snuck up behind the drow hunter, but as he was about to strike, a guttural voice called out a warning in the drow language, and a Scorrow rose from its hiding place in the underbrush.

While Maechen meditated to enter prophetic favor, Pel, Lysander and Luggoth charged across the bridge. Two Xen'drik boomerangs came flying out of the jungle, one of them nicking Luggoth's shoulder as he ducked out of the way of the other. Brand attacked the hunter, but with the warning he had gotten from the Scorrow, he managed to turn Brand's deadly sneak attack into merely a severe wound.

The Scorrow rushed over to help, slashing at Brand with his long knives and stinging him, the poison overwhelming Brand's system, even with the antitoxin, and causing him to weaken. Seeing this, Luggoth shifted and rushed to kill the wounded drow hunter in front of Brand, even as Maechen fired magic missiles at the Scorrow. Unfortunately, the magically-resistant Scorrow shrugged the attack, although he couldn't shrug off a slash from Brand's shortsword that chipped away part of his chitinous carapace. Pel, feeling the blessings of the Traveler so that he could evade the underbrush with ease, rushed over to the other drow hunter and dealt him a nearly deadly blow with his scimitar.

The Scorrow struck Brand again with knives and tail, and Brand stumbled back, struggling to remain conscious as the poison coursed through his system and swallowing a potion of cure moderate wounds. Luggoth pressed past the dead drow hunter and slashed the Scorrow with his greatsword, although the beast seemed in fine shape, enough to dodge Maechen's ice knife spell at least.

The other hunter turned and ran back toward the jungle, clearly intending to warn the drow at the temple, but Pel rushed after him, although the blessing of the Traveler faded just as he swung his scimitar, and he struck a thicket of vines instead of the hunter's head. Fortunately, Lysander was watching and managed to drop the runner with an arrow.

The Scorrow rained a couple of ineffective blows on Luggoth's glamered breastplate, and then was beaten down by Luggoth, magic missiles from Maechen and a wound from Brand's rapier. He scuttled back, heading for the deeper jungle, but before he could get far, Luggoth, Pel and Brand pulled out their bows and crossbows and peppered him with bolts and arrows, and Maechen finished him off with his wand of magic missiles.

After giving Brand a potion of lesser restoration to fight off the effects of the poison, the group began moving toward the temple. They moved about forty feet into the jungle, hearing the distant sounds of chanting and drumming, at which point they sent Brand ahead to scout once again. He reported back that there were two drow warriors, two drow women (one obviously a spellcaster), a shaman and a bound and gagged Gunter, and they were performing some kind of ritual to a large scorpion with a fiendish appearance. He believed that because of the noise, they should be able to approach fairly easily.

This turned out to be true, and the Wolves moved into position. Brand fired first, loosing an arrow and killing the warrior who was guarding Gunter. Luggoth fired an arrow into the older drow woman, who reacted by using a scroll of invisibility. Maechen, seeing that the attack was on, launched a fireball that killed the younger drow woman and wounded the shaman, and Lysander launched into an inspiring ballad.

The drow shaman cast Prayer on his allies, and one of them moved over to push Gunter into the pit with the scorpion. Moving quickly, Luggoth shifted, flew into a rage and leaped into the pit, attacking the scorpion with a fury. This distracted the scorpion from its sacrifice and it turned to attack Luggoth, landing savage blows with its claw and tail. Brand also rushed in, pulling out his swords and attacking, but he miscalculated his approach and suffered a vicious claw strike from the scorpion as well.

Maechen cast haste on the party, and then flew into a rage himself, rushing up to attack the shaman. Lysander and Pel both shot arrows that hit the shaman before Maechen clubbed him. Meanwhile, Crowley, Brand's snake, bit the other drow hunter and knocked him unconscious.

Two more hunters emerged from the back of the chamber, throwing Xen'drik boomerangs into the fray, as Luggoth and Brand continued to exchange blows with the scorpion.

Lysander stopped signing, charging the wounded shaman with his rapier and running him through, as Brand launched a flurry of five blows on the scorpion, leaving it bleeding and dying on the floor of its own killing ground.

Luggoth, Pel and Maechen made quick work of the other two drow warriors, and the sacrifice was over. Or so it would seem. Even as Lysander began casting healing spells, and Brand used his pearl of power to cast embrace the wild and search for the invisible drow woman, she was moving into position. She reappeared next to Luggoth and tried to kill him with a skillful attack that marked her as an assassin. Fortunately, Luggoth's endurance enabled him to survive both the attack and the poison on her blade, and before he could respond to her attack, Maechen, Brand and Crowley had dropped her to the floor, leaving Luggoth to administer the final killing blow.

After finding some magic weapons and gold hidden in an altar, the Wolves mounted back up to head back to Hackrazet's farm.

Part Six - A Demon's Bargain:
Four hours later, as the sun began to set, the Wolves arrived back at Hackrazet's farm. He served them a meal of spiced Gur'kash meat and long corn mash, and offered them cots to sleep in the farmhouse above the Gur'kash. He explained that the Bulette usually attacked in the morning, and that it hadn't been by in a few days, so he expected it soon.

Worried about Gunter's health, the Wolves reluctantly decided to try and feed him. Brand prepared weapons, and Lysander a counterspell, as Pel removed his gag, intending to shove corn mash and water into him. The corn mash got to him before he could speak, but he had a second to speak before the glass hit his lips, and he began to cast what Lysander recognized as a teleportation spell, which he couldn't counter. Fortunately, Brand was quick to smack Gunter with their newly found magical hammer, causing him to fumble the words and lose the spell. Pel decided that Gunter had enough to survive on, and wouldn't be getting anything more.

In the morning, the Wolves were awakened by the sound of the celestial Bulette loudly munching on long corn out in the field. Luggoth leaped down to the floor of the barn, but slipped on a pile of Gur'kash dung and mildly twisted his ankle, causing Lysander to chuckle just a little as he nimbly tumbled to the ground and began singing to inspire. Maechen once again entered prophetic favor as Brand tumbled down and cast Cat's Grace, and Pel chose to simply climb down one of the ladders.

The Bulette continued to munch on long corn, blissfully unaware that the Wolves were moving out into the Gur'kash pen and preparing to attack. Maechen cast haste on the party once again, and Pel cast bless.

Having had its fill of long corn, the Bulette dove down into the ground, and the Wolves rushed out into the field, but found only that the hole had filled in. While Maechen, Brand and Pel continued to cast spells to prepare, and the haste slowly dwindled, the Bulette swam underneath the ground toward the Gur'kash pen. He emerged a few seconds later, swallowing one of the Gur'kash whole.

Luggoth shifted and crashed through the fence, slashing at the Bulette, and as the rest of the Wolves moved in, Maechen began firing magic missiles, which the Bulette's celestial aura shrugged off.

The Bulette landed a nasty bite on Luggoth as the haste effect faded, and the Wolves began attacking in earnest, surrounding the celestial beast and slashing at it. The Gur'kash panicked and stampeded, trampling over Maechen as they tried to flee.

Leaping into the air, the Bulette swung all four of its claws at Luggoth, slashing him badly, but he swung his greatsword at its exposed belly as it came down, cutting a six-inch gash and covering himself in some of its innards and half-digested Gur'kash. Lysander and Brand joined in on the attack as Maechen fired empowered magic missiles, and the severely wounded Bulette dove into the ground once more, disappearing before they could land a killing blow.

Unable to track down the Bulette, Hackrazet offered Brand another deal, suggesting that he could simply owe him a favor. The group was wary, given that they already owed a favor to a death priest, but saw no easy way out. Brand negotiated that the deal wouldn't involve killing anyone, or doing incredible harm to anyone they held incredibly dear, and Hackrazet accepted those terms, even throwing in a month worth of Eternal Rations as a thanks for their help in driving the Bulette off.

XP:
Lysander 2980
Luggoth 2980
Pel 2980
Brand 3798
Maechen 3798

Maechen gets a history

Destiny...Draconic Prophecies...deadbeat dads...

Who knew I could be such a blowhard?

Ravenloft Character: Aerich Bloodborn

Name: Aeric Bloodborn
Race: Human
Class: Wizard 5/Blood Magus 2
Experience: 22,706
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Religion: Silver Flame
Homeland: Karrnath
Age: 21 Height: 6’ Weight: 218 lbs.

Statistics: STR 13, DEX 15 (17), CON 15, INT 17, WIS 11, CHA 10, BAB +3, Fort +4 (+8), Ref +1 (+4), Will +4 (+4), Init +3 (+3), AC 13/17 w/Mage Armor (+3 Dex), Move: 30, HP 42

Skills: Bluff +3 (+3), Concentration +10 (+12), Craft (Artist) +1 (+4), Heal +2 (+2), Knowledge (Arcana) +9 (+12), Knowledge (Dungeoneering) +8 (+11), Knowledge (Planes) +6 (+9), Knowledge (Religion) +7 (+10), Listen +0 (+3/+5 with familiar nearby), Profession (Scribe) +2 (+2), Spellcraft +10 (+15), Spot +0 (+2 with familiar nearby), Survival +0 (+2 on other planes)

Class Abilities: Blood Component (use own blood in place of material spell components), Durable Casting (subtract Blood Magus level from Concentration check damage), Stanch (auto-stablize below 0 HP), Scarification (carve scrolls into own skin)

Weapons/Attacks: +5 (2d8+1, Undead Bane Spiked Chain), versus undead +6 (2d8 +2d6 +1, Undead Bane Spiked Chain), +6 (1d8, Light Crossbow), +6 (Ray Spells), +4 (1d6+1, Club)

Equipment:

Undead Bane Spiked Chain, Gloves of Dexterity +2, Wand of Magic Missiles (5th: 42 charges), Wand of Magic Missiles (1st: 13 charges),Potion: Cure Light Wounds (1), Potion: Cure Moderate Wounds (1), Potion: Sanctuary, Skin Scroll: Stoneskin (7th), Scrolls: Mage Hand (1st), Detect Magic (1st), Spell Vulnerability (5th), Halt Undead (5th), Dispel Magic (5th), Protection From Evil – 6 (1st), Identify – 4 (1st), Mage Armor (1st), Ray of Enfeeblement (1st), Dimension Door, Haste, Lightning Bolt, Scry, Phantom Steed X2, Dagger, Light Crossbow, Bolts (10), Adamantine Bolts (10), Alchemical Silver Bolts (10), Holy Water (3), Sunrod (2), Tindertwig (2), Feather Fall Token (1), Acid (1), Backpack, Belt Pouch, Waterskin, Ink, Inkpen, Paper (5), Traveler’s Outfit, Rations (1), Spellbook, Spell Component Pouch, 0 CP, 10 SP, 30 GP, 15 PP, Letter of Credit 277 GP, Rubies worth 100 GP (10)

Feats: Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Spiked Chain), Great Fortitude, Toughness, Extend Spell, Craft Wand, Scribe Scroll
Proficiencies: Club, Dagger, Heavy Crossbow, Light Crossbow, Quarterstaff, Spiked Chain
Languages: Common, Draconic, Infernal, Abyssal, Mabran
Contacts: Kalibar Jenks, a scoundrel and a spy with whom Aeric worked on a clandestine mission to benefit the Church of the Silver Flame (and presumably one of Jenks' many employers).

Spells: Specialization School: Necromancy – Prohibited Schools: Enchantment, Illusion
0 – Detect Magic, Disrupt Undead, Launch Item, Read Magic, Touch of Fatigue; 1st – Expeditious Retreat, Magic Missile X2, Ray of Enfeeblement, Ray of Flame X2; 2nd – Bone Fiddle, Command Undead, (Extended) Mage Armor, Life Bolt, Scorching Ray; 3rd – Fireball X2, Fly, Greater Disrupt Undead; 4th - Stoneskin
(In Spellbook: 0 – All; 1st – Backbiter, Expeditious Retreat, Identify, Magic Missile, Ray of Enfeeblement, Ray of Flame, Shield, Spirit Worm; 2nd – Bone Fiddle, Cat’s Grace, Command Undead, Invisibility, Life Bolt, Mirror Image, Scorching Ray, Slapping Hand; 3rd – Dispel Magic, Fireball, Fly, Greater Disrupt Undead, Halt Undead, Many Jaws, Spell Vulnerability, Vampiric Touch); 4th - Burning Blood, Stoneskin

Name: Langstrom
Race: Bat
Statistics: STR 1, DEX 15, CON 10, INT 9, WIS 14, CHA 4, BAB/Grapple +2/-3, Fort +3, Ref +3, Will +6, Init +2, AC 20 (Touch 17, Flat Footed 18), Speed 5’/40' fly, HP 21

Skills: Hide +14, Knowledge (Arcana) +7, Knowledge (Dungeoneering) +6, Knowledge (Planes) +4, Knowledge (Religion) +4, Listen +8, Move Silently +6, Spellcraft +7, Spot +8
Feats: Alertness, Improved Evasion
Special Abilities: Low Light Vision, Blindsense, Empathic Link, Share Spells, Deliver Touch Spells, Speak With Master
Weapons/Attacks: +4 (No damage)

History:
Blood? Let me tell you something about blood. I was raised in Karrnath among the followers of the Blood of Vol. I was taught that undeath was the ultimate state of existence – no surprise given who my parents are. In ceremony after ceremony I gave my blood, just like the rest of the cattle. A sacrament to Vol. A symbol of my devotion. I learned how the evil gods of the Sovereign Host created Death – taking our loved ones away. And I learned how to cheat Death and the glory of acheiving a state of being beyond the limited world of mortals. Everyone expected great things of me, of course. How could the son of two such important figures do any less. And by the cult’s standards, I did very well. I excelled in the Black Arts. As I grew so did my power over the energies of life and unlife. And all the while I gave of myself – gave my blood at the ceremonies.

Then I joined the Emerald Claw. My bloodsucking parents were so proud. I was proud. We were Vol’s hand, reaching out to destroy the evil machinations of the Sovereign Host and their pawns. But as I continued my studies, I began to have questions. The more I studied Necromantic energies, the more I wondered at my teachings. I saw the power of blood. I noted how it interacted with the physiology and energies of the intelligent undead. I observed the effect it had on my parents after they fed.

On a fateful mission aboard an airship called the Jade Fury, I witnessed more death and destruction than on any previous assignment for the Emerald Claw. We chased down a Lyrandar airship called the Cloud’s Destiny in search of a powerful artifact stolen by a newly-born exalted one. My unit’s mission was stymied by a group known as the Wandering Wolves – a name we had begun to hear all too often when it came to botched missions for the Claw. And when it looked as if we would fail, our captain steered our airship directly into the Cloud’s Destiny. I could see the faces of passengers in the portholes as our ship approached. So many innocent souls – ones who had nothing to do with the Soul Blade. Nothing to do with the vampire called Lucan. Nothing to do with the Wandering Wolves. All of them would die. Killed by followers of the Blood of Vol who claimed to hate Death so much.

I died that day. But that was not the end of my life. It was the true beginning. For I saw a Silver Flame. And I heard a loud pounding: the beating of my heart. And a crimson torrent washed over me, stripping away the lies I had been told all my life. In that moment I was reborn and I could sense the power flowing in my veins. All my life I had given up my blood to Vol. Now finally I saw that all I was doing was feeding evil. Feeding Death and the ones like my parents who live and thrive on it. On that day I was reborn and I will dedicate all the power that flows from my heart to the destruction of the Blood of Vol cult. I will rip the power from the undead to leave them the lifeless husks that we all should become once the sacred blood stops flowing through our veins of its own accord.

Upcoming Schedule Note

Since I had to reschedule my OKC trip, I'll be out of the game on Feb 2, which is when we were considering the start of Ravenloft. I suppose my wizard/blood magus could just come in a little later than everyone else, but I wanted to put this out there in case it affects Nate's planning for the beginning. Or it could affect Mat's planning if we are going to continue Cthulu that week.

Eberron Character: Maechen Eyre

Name: Maechen Eyre
Race: Human
Class: Wizard 5/Barbarian 1/Dragon Prophet 1
Experience: 25,400
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Religion: Aureon
Homeland: Aundair
Age: 31 Height: 5'9" Weight: 155 lbs.

Statistics: STR 14, DEX 14, CON 16 (18), INT 18, WIS 13, CHA 11, BAB +3, Fort +7 (+3), Ref +3 (+1), Will +7 (+6), Init +6 (+2 Dex, +4 Improved Init), AC 12 (+2 Dex), HP 44 (51)

Skills: Balance +2, Concentration +8, Craft (Bookbinding) +6, Craft (Alchemy) +7, Decipher Script +8, Gather Information +5, Jump +3, Knowledge (Arcana) +10, Knowledge (History) +7, Knowledge (Geography) +1, Knowledge (Dragon Prophecy) +4, Spellcraft +10, Survival +3

Action Dice: 8

Spells: 0 (4/day) -- All 0-level spells; 1st (4/day) -- Comprehend Languages, Ebon Eyes, Enlarge Person, Feather Fall, Grease, Identify, Mage Armor, Magic Missile, Lesser Orb of Acid, Reduce Person, Shield; 2nd (3/day) -- Bull's Strength, Ice Knife, Invisibility, Phantom Foe, Web, Wraithstrike; 3rd (2/day) -- Clairaudience/Clairvoyance, Dispel Magic, Fireball, Haste, Lightning Bolt, Tongues
Class Abilities: Fast Movement, Rage 1/day (6 rounds), Constellation Power: Falazure
Weapons/Attacks: +6 (1d10+3, Greatclub +1), +6 (1d4+2, Masterwork dagger)

Equipment:

+1 Greatclub, Amulet of Health +2, Wand of Magic Missiles (5th level) (49 charges), Pearl of Power (1st), Spellbook, Explorer's Handbook, Backpack, Alchemist's Lab, Light Horse (w/Pack & Riding Saddle), Masterwork Artisan's Tools, Everburning Torch, Bedroll, Scroll Case, Parchment (10 sheets), 50' silk rope, waterskin, spell component pouch, Tindertwigs (10), ink & pen, identity & traveling papers, 2946 GP (Dave, is this a House of Kundarak letter of credit, gold and platinum, jewels, etc.? Break it down for me if you will)

Feats: Combat Casting, Dragon Prophesier, Extend Spell, Improved Initiative, Prophecy Shaper, Scribe Scroll
Proficiencies: All Simple + Martial Weapons, All Light & Medium Armor, All Shields (except Tower)
Languages: Common, Draconic, Gnome, Elven, Argon

History: Growing up the son of a moderately famous bookbinder in the city of Passage, Aundair, the gangly, introverted boy named Maechen would oft times wonder at his surname – “Eyre.” It was, he learned, derived from the name of the moon and mid-spring month of the same name, and Maechen was excited when his mother explained how it was associated with the dragonmark of making. Throughout adolescence, he felt drawn to the moons, the stars, and the Ring of Siberys, certain that his family name would prove a calling, that his dragonmark was soon to appear.

It never did.

Reluctantly, he took up his father’s trade of bookbinding. Some years into his apprenticeship, he learned a secret that explained both how his father had avoided military service in the war and how the family maintained such a comfortable living: his father had a private contract with House Orien to construct the finest spellbooks in service to those wizards House Orien sent to the frontlines. Once he was “in” on his father’s secret, Maechen was only too happy to help him. He became friends with many a visiting wizard, began to study their simplest cantrips, and was encouraged by them to continue his studies.

In his mid-teens, Maechen was sent to the metropolis of Fairhaven to begin his formal study of wizardry at the prestigious University of Wynarn. He excelled in his studies, learned the principles of alchemy, and even found himself setting aside his books at times in service to athletic pursuits - the latter more in service to romantic pursuits than any love of sport. Maechen had become involved with a classmate, a spirited beauty with auburn hair. Her name was Melaan Windshire. On a lightning rail field trip to the Starpeaks Observatory, the pair snuck in after hours and consummated their love beneath the field of stars. It was that night that she told him about her hobby of studying the Draconic Prophecy.

A year passed. The pair were inseparable and, when Melaan learned that she was carrying Maechen's child, they married and took a leave of absence from the university. Those were Maechen’s happiest days, living with Melaan and studying the Prophecy together, caring for his young son, and eking out a modest living making spellbooks as the war drew to a close that seemed to bode well for his future.

The first wedge between the pair was, in a sad irony, the Prophecy itself. For Melaan it was a hobby; for Maechen, an increasing obsession. As if returning to his childhood, he felt sure he was on the cusp of some fateful discovery, but it was always just around the corner, always in the shadows just beyond his vision. Maechen cared deeply for Melaan and his son, Zanj, but his obsessiveness gave him a temper he never knew he had and arguments were frequent and painful.

In the year 995 YK, he dreamt ceaselessly for three months of a great silver dragon. When an emissary arrived at his home claiming to represent such a dragon - Vuulaytherus of the Chamber – Maechen accepted the man's word without question. Accepted, too, that he had a role to play in the Prophecy, that he was to travel to Argonnessen in one year’s time to accept that role from Vuulaytherus, and that in the intervening year, he would travel Khorvaire at the dragon’s bidding to prove himself.

Fired by the purpose he’d so long craved, Maechen left his home and family the following day, leaving only a note of darkest regret. He knew they could never understand that this is what he had to do. That if he didn’t follow his calling, his life would be as nothing and even his devotion to them would be undermined – for what husband and father could face his loved ones knowing he had failed to play his part in fulfilling a destiny that would surely make the world a better place for them?

The year that followed tested Maechen as never before, traveling many lands beyond the borders of Aundair in service to Vuulaytherus. He sought out obscure magic items, rare documents, and sages both esteemed and held in contempt. At times Vuulaytherus’ commands made little sense – what did a dragon need with a handful of sand from the shores of Newthrone in Q’Barra? – but Maechen performed them with the zeal of a true acolyte. And he also tasted his first combat, putting into practice those arcane battle magicks that were mere theory in college. But even as Maechen felt the righteousness of his path, ever did his wife and son remain in his memory. He always sent them a portion of the spoils he earned adventuring for Vuulaytherus, and occasionally, when he could tolerate the emotionalal toll, he would even write them. He wanted them to know that he was well and that he thought always of them, but he never left a means of responding - lest he risk weakening in his resolve.

On the appointed day, he sailed for Argonnessen with a crew of men he thought to be traders, but who proved to be little more than wreckers looking to prey on ships driven from Argonnessen by the Seren barbarians who protected its coasts. In a fitting twist of fate, they themselves were set upon by Serens. Perhaps the Serens recognized that Maechen wasn’t truly aligned with these corsairs, perhaps they saw in his eyes the calling of the dragons that they too worshipped. Whatever the case, he was the only man on that ship to not have his belly put to barbarian spear that day. Instead he became their captive.

The life to come was brutal and filled with the pain of learning amongst a people who responded to failure with the sharp crack of a fist. Maechen was forced to learn their ways lest the wildlands themselves leave him starving or devoured by some monster. And so he learned to fight, wielding the shaped greatclub of the Serens, and he learned to channel his moments of rage into bursts of great fighting prowess in battle. He even learned their language, a curious mixture of Common and Draconic. When the day came that he decided Vuulaytherus could wait no longer, Maechen was confronted by the Seren tribal elder on trying to sneak from the village. Indeed, his leaving had been foretold, and the confrontation was simply a final parting of ways with a rare outsider who’d managed to earn a measure of the tribe’s respect. "Just a measure," the old man told Maechen, a rare smile lining his tan, creased face. Maechen was gifted with a mighty club etched with arcane symbols, and more importantly, given a sacred cord with which to bind his long, black hair in the ponytail worn only by those tribesmen considered worthy fighting men.

In the weeks to follow, Maechen ventured into the depths of Argonnessen with only the calling of the Prophecy to guide him. Even with his newfound survival skills, the jungles beat him down, he became emaciated as prey proved too elusive to hunt, and when he finally found Vuulaytherus, he was half-mad from his journeys. What followed Maechen recalls only as one remembers a dream, but secrets were told him that toppled the final barrier of doubt that he was destined to play a role in the shaping of the Prophecy. He bore no dragonmark, but he would indeed be a “maker,” and that which he forged would shape the world more than anything so mean it could be made by hand.

Just a few weeks ago, Maechen awoke from his fugue meeting with his newfound master. He found himself hale and hearty, staying in a comfortable inn in the city of Stormreach on the vast, unexplored continent of Xen’drik. He felt as if he’d slept well for the first time in years. His more fiery impulses had faded, replaced with an understanding that he would fulfill his role even if it took years, decades...or more. His zeal for the Prophecy was now counterbalanced with a level of serenity. A glowing symbol of the draconic constellation of Falazure had appeared on his shoulder overnight, the final confirmation that Vuulaytherus had faith in him.

And so it was that when a messenger arrived with word from the great, silver dragon that Maechen was to seek out a man in Xen’drik with a key role to play in the Prophecy, Maechen didn’t howl for joy, but rather smiled the quiet smile of one who understands. He had suffered the turmoil of indecision the whole of his life, to the point of hurting those he’d loved dearest, but now he knew the pain would not be without reward.

He readied his gear.

A Note on the Upcoming Schedule...

I've got no problem starting Raveloft in two weeks. Kinda itching to do it, Frank Quitely. If we can just know by next weekend, that would be awesome. We've got four in the party so far. Ben, are you in? I might also have a friend from College Station who wants to give Ravenloft a shot. Anybody mind?

Eberron Adventure Journal: The Wrath of Vulkoor

Vult 8 - Vult 9, YK 998

Part One - Arrivals and Departures:
Setting out following the direction of a generally confident Halas Martain, the Wandering Wolves rode their newly acquired warhorses into the Eberron jungles, hoping to reach Stormreach before the Golden Dragon departed for Khorvaire, where the news it carried would almost certainly spark a war.

After traveling about 10 hours, encountering surprisingly little resistance from local beasts, night fell and the weary adventurers decided to make camp. They made sure that Gunter was still bound, gagged and secured before resting, and they left Luggoth to keep watch.

As morning dawned, Luggoth awoke, groggy and uncertain what had happened. He remembered the sound of spellcasting, then silence cutting off his cries of alarm. He remembered pulling out his sword and then falling victim to paralysis as darkness enveloped the campsite. He saw shadowy forms moving through, and one of them took advantage of his paralysis to club him unconscious.

A quick glance at the camp revealed that Halas, Gunter and Tworock were missing. Before he could fully process this information, however, he heard rustling in the bushes nearby. Letting out a roar, he rushed toward the bushes with his sword. This stirred Lysander immediately, although Pel simply muttered in his sleep and rolled over in his bedroll.

Luggoth held his sword when a familiar face emerged from the bushes. Brand, last seen dying of mummy rot, emerged hale and hearty with a new companion, a human in explorer's clothes adorned with spell component pouches and a carved wooden club slung across his back. Luggoth's cries of surprise, and the sound of the reunion, soon woke Pel as well, and the Wandering Wolves had a reunion at the campsite.

Brand introduced his companion as Maechen, a servant of the same dragon that Muroni had followed, and then began spinning the tale of his father's rescue and what he had been doing in Eberron for the month. It was at this point that Lysander and Pel both noticed that they were down a few members. Brand's story would have to wait... there was a mystery afoot.

Luggoth recounted what had happened, and Brand informed them that they were in the territory of the Volentar Clan, drow who worshipped the wrathful aspect of Vulkoor. This was a hint as to what had happened when Luggoth discovered a note in the bedroll of Tworock reading, in scrawled Common, "This area belongs Vulkoor. Your friends go to Vulkoor. You leave or you go to Vulkoor."

Maechen cast a detect magic spell and found no lasting magical auras, but did determine from his experience that the spells were probably Hold Person and Silence, and that they were most likely cast by a cleric. The Wolves searched the area and together determined that all three of the men were taken without a struggle, that there were four in the group of drow, and that the drow had moved throughout the camp quietly and carefully before choosing who to take.

Brand could tell from the prints that two of the drow were carrying Tworock, and one each was carrying the other two men. Brand guessed that they were probably taken as sacrifices to Vulkoor. He theorized that the drow hatred of giants might have informed their decision to take Tworock, although he couldn't guess why they might have taken Gunter and Halas. He offered that the drow often passed without trace, but that they should try and find their trail.

Part Two - A Trail of Gold:
As Brand suspected, there was no trail to be found once the drow got about 20 feet from the campsite. However, Luggoth spotted something in the mud, a gold piece, and picked it up to determine that it had an arrow scratched into it, pointing down the trail. They guessed that Halas must have been dropping the coins to leave a trail.

On horseback, the Wolves and Maechen began following the trail, and found additional gold pieces along the way. About every ten minutes or so, they found a piece of gold. Luggoth realized as they were following the trail that the drow, despite being hidden, had been taking a circuitous route, doubling back on their tracks and making random detours. They were obviously taking no chances about being followed.

After about three hours and 20 gold, the adventurers found their first platinum piece. It would be the last one they found, because about the time they were to reach the next one, they found instead something that had been eating them. A very large, mutated rust monster, which after snapping up the platinum piece on the trail, turned its attention to the metal-laden adventurers in front of it.

The Wolves feared the creature's immense size and rusting abilities, but they were able to put it down fairly quickly. Pel and Maechen unleashed magic missiles from their wand as Luggoth and Lysander peppered it with arrow fire. Pel blasted it with enough magic missiles to blacken its face and destroy one of its eyes, and Luggoth followed up with an arrow into its burned head that put it down for good.

Unfortunately, the rust monster had eaten the rest of their trail, but they were able to follow the large beast's tracks and find where the drow's pass without trace abilities had faded. They could see that the four drow were still traveling, and they still showed all the signs of carrying all three prisoners.

Part Three - Canyon of Darkness:
As the Wolves continued on, they saw that the path lead through a box canyon, twenty feet wide and thirty feet high with considerable jungle cover above that rendered the canyon fairly shadowy and dark. Fearing an ambush, Pel, Lysander and Brand moved stealthily into the canyon. Unfortunately, they didn't know that Ashkala and Teralas, a pair of drow raiders, waited in the tree cover above and had spotted them coming from a ways away. When they entered the canyon, however, Lysander spotted Ashkala in the branches and cried out "drow!" just as they launched their ambush.

Xen'drik boomerangs whistled down out of the trees, impacting Brand and Pel, as Lysander pulled out his bow and fired an arrow into Ashkala's arm. Maechen and Luggoth rushed up to join the group as Brand fired his bow at Ashkala as well, one scratching his cheek and the other landing solidly in his leg. After the arrow impacted, however, a cloud of darkness enveloped the two drow, making it even harder to see them amidst the foliage cover.

As Pel readied his crossbow, the darkness dropped suddenly into the midst of the Wolves, and Brand heard something landing on the jungle floor. Ashkala drank a potion of healing that reduced but didn't eliminate his wounds as Lysander and Brand moved forward out of the darkness, further into the canyon. They emerged just in time to be targeted by Neveress, a drow firebringer who had been invisibly watching from the end of the canyon. She launched a fireball into their midst, blasting Lysander, Brand and Brand's animal companion, Crowley, a viper that dropped nearly dead to the floor of the canyon.

As Pel moved up to cast cure light wounds on Crowley and prevent his death, Luggoth shifted and charged, easily covering the immense amount of ground to slash at Neveress with his sword.

Two more boomerangs came whizzing down into the group, both aimed at Lysander, but only one connected. Lysander was badly wounded, and for some reason a vision of his death entered his mind, as he witnessed another fireball launched into their midst, resulting in his instant fiery demise. He was shaken out of this vision as Pel moved to him and cast cure moderate wounds, and Lysander began singing, inspiring Luggoth's second attack on Neveress, which slashed her apart and dropped her, dying, to the jungle floor. Maechen tried to use a Grease spell to get the drow to fall, but Teralas managed to nimbly leap to another branch, aided by the rope harnesses he and Ashkala were wearing.

Seconds later, however, Teralas and Ashkala dropped to the ground anyway, swinging down on ropes and cutting them free with their drow long knives. Maechen blasted Ashkala with an empowered magic missile, killing him, and the other Wolves quickly surrounded Teralas. He acquitted himself well, fending off attacks from Pel and Brand, but Brand deflected his return attack and threw him off-balance, allowing Lysander to summon his new keen rapier from his glove of storing and stab Teralas all the way through his chest, resulting in a burst of electricity running up and down the drow's frame. Before he could recover from this blow, Maechen rushed up and bashed the drow's skull in with his club.

While searching the drow, Brand found a scorpion on Teralas' body. It tried to sting him and failed, and Brand crushed it. None of the others had anything similar, but they did have some magical armor, potions, an amulet, a ring, a scroll and a wand, as well as masterwork weaponry.

As Lysander and Maechen identified some of the items and Pel placed the rest in the haversack, healing Lysander and Brand further as well, Luggoth climbed the rope into the trees and looked around for other snipers. The creaking branches supported him well enough to look around and he determined that this was the last of the drow in the area.

Part Four - The Survivor and the Demon Farmer
Despite this assurance, the Wolves moved more cautiously from this point, with Brand and Lysander scouting quietly ahead as the rest of the group rode slowly behind them on horseback. Brand found the tracks of the last drow, realizing that the three that had attacked them were part of the same band that had kidnapped their allies and their prisoner. The tracks indicated that the drow was carrying the three prisoners on some sort of stretcher, leading them to guess he or she must be fairly strong, but it also left a very easy trail.

Lysander returned to the rest of the group as Brand scouted ahead, following the trail. As he moved, he heard movement about fifty feet ahead in a group of bushes. He moved quietly, using cover, to get closer to the bushes, and the movement stopped. Brand stopped as well, looking around and casting a spell that gave him blindsense so that he could spot an invisible man, about 10 feet away, trying to sneak past.

"Martain? Is that you?"

"Who's asking?" came the reply.

Brand revealed himself to be one of the Wolves, showing his ring as identification, and Halas Martain became visible. He explained that he had been feigning unconsciousness when they were captured, and that he felt he was outnumbered and didn't want the other hostages to get hurt, so he didn't attack, but he did leave coins. Brand feigned ignorance in the coins, pretending to have tracked the traceless drow, impressing Halas while annoying him at the loss of his money.

Halas offered his own inflated account of what had happened as the two men headed back to rejoin the other Wolves. After the shaman had carried them for a short while, another band of drow, made up of about six drow warriors, met him in the jungle. Two of the warriors and the shaman carried Gunter off in one direction, while two of the other warriors took Tworock in a different direction. The other two warriors were carrying Halas, and he decided to make his move, since they had never bothered to disarm any of the captives, thinking them soundly unconscious.

Halas gave an account of a brave battle in which he was wounded by their scorpion chains (this much was borne out by some fairly nasty looking wounds) but managed to prevail, and Maechen, not yet annoyed by Halas as the rest of the Wolves were, took pity on him and offered him a potion of cure moderate wounds, which he greedily but gratefully drank.

Halas led the Wolves back to the spot where the drow had split, but unfortunately, they had used their pass without trace ability and were basically gone. The Wolves determined that Tworock would want them to prevent the war and resolved to go after Gunter, but they weren't entirely sure how they were going to do that. Then Brand offered that he knew of an informant in the area, about two hours to the south, who would almost certainly know where the secret shrine was. The Wolves resolved to go to this informant.

After about two hours, the group did indeed reach the farm of Hackrazet, a babau demon who had retired from the Demon Wastes to open a farm for eternal rations. His crops were Long Corn and Gurk'ash, flora and fauna used to make the expensive rations. As they arrived, though, the Wolves saw that something was wrong. The corn was trampled and eaten in several spots, and the fence showed signs of being patched several times as well. The Wolves approached the farmhouse of Hackrazet, and he greeted them, as he had met Brand once before and knew his father well.

The Wolves explained their dilemma to Hackrazet, and he offered an exchange. He knew where the shrine was, probably four hours to the north, and he'd offer them directions if they'd agree to do something for him. It seems an old enemy had unleashed a celestial bulette on his crops, and Hackrazet was unable to destroy the beast. In addition to being difficult to deal with thanks to its celestial nature, he worried that if he destroyed it, he might call down some fairly nasty holy wrath upon himself. But if some adventurers were to destroy its corporeal form, sending it back to its celestial home, they would surely not suffer the same consequences. Or at least, not to the same surely fatal extent as Hackrazet would.

With little choice in the matter, the Wolves agreed to Hackrazet's terms. He then produced a scroll of Geas from a magically trapped chest and asked that one of the adventurers' agree to be ensorceled as a sign of good faith. After trying to pawn off Halas, which Hackrazet saw straight through, Brand was given the quest spell. The Wolves were on the clock, now. They had to deal with the drow and rescue Gunter and return to handle the bulette within the next day, or the spell would begin having its ill effects on Brand. They mounted up and began the journey back into the jungle, heading for the drow shrine.

XP:
Lysander 700
Luggoth 700
Pel 700
Brand 900
Maechen 900

In Mucus Drowned

Sorry, all, but I have an upper respiratory infection that is still contagious. To spare you all my misery, I will be staying home tonight. Please enjoy having a designated book reader and under no circumstances will Gus Paul make that Nazi loving commie a new suit.

Chapter 1: The Missing Man

On a cold October night in Boston in the year 1936, a strange reunion took place. Spurred by a mysterious warning from Count Rostov in Berlin and a frantic missive from Buck Martin in Brazil, four men who had not seen each other for a decade joined forces again to struggle against the rising tide of darkness.

Only Spencer Thompson was expected to be absent; his incarceration after a failed burglary attempt was well-known. But it soon became clear that Dr. Robert Harger was missing as well. A hastily organized search of the Doctor's house yielded vital clues: three letters to Professor Rutherford, never mailed, written over the course of several years.

The first letter told of Harger's piecing together of several clues about the horrible fate that befell the Olympia survivors – knowledge of which had driven him to seek forgetfulness in a bottle. The second letter recounted his attempt to find a way to rid himself of the cursed amulet, culminating in a meeting with Gus Paul, an expert on the Jewish Kaballah. In his final letter written several days before the reunion, Harger admitted he had discovered how to rid himself of the amulet, but feared the steps he must take. Now, at last, he had decided to make the desperate attempt, renting a boat and performing a strange ritual upon midnight seas. Should he fail to return, he urged his friends to contact Gus Paul, now under threat due to his association with the doctor.

The investigators made an ominous discovery: Harger had rented his boat near the beach where De Roca had made his final attack a decade past. The boat had been rented a week ago and had never been returned. Still haunted by the memory of De Roca's horrible half-human minions, the investigators did not dare to explore the beach at night. Instead, they turned their attention to Harger's last request and placed a long-distance call to Gus Paul in New York City.

They quickly arranged to meet Paul in New York that morning. Paul was already acquainted with Harger's account of the fantastic events of 1926, and his own mystical studies inclined him to give it some credence. Over a mediocre breakfast at a local café, Paul recounted his own experiences with a man named Conrad Witten, chairman of a veteran's charity called the Beneficial Society for the Care and Treatment of Veterans of the Great War.

Years earlier, Witten had sought Paul's expertise in analyzing a photograph of a mysterious amulet thought to be of cabalistic design. Witten said it was a gift from an anonymous donor, and because of its unique design the Beneficial Society was having difficulty getting it appraised. Paul could offer little help – the amulet clearly had nothing to do with Kaballah – but he readily assented to Witten's request that the matter be kept confidential. Several weeks ago, Witten had returned, angrily accusing Paul of having broken his promise; in recent years, there had been word of several inquiries among scholars and academics about a strange amulet matching the design in Witten's photograph. Paul realized that these must have been triggered by Harger's investigations, but he kept the doctor's confidence, insisting to Witten that he had made no such inquiries. Clearly unsatisfied, Witten left with a vague but ominous threat. Since then, Paul had several times felt he was being watched or followed. Fearing for his and the doctor's safety, he had contacted Harger.

In an effort to learn more about Harger's fate, the investigators called the boat rental shop. To their dismay, they learned that the boat had been found washed ashore in pieces. Furthermore, the shop owner claimed that it was "full of bullet holes." There now seemed little doubt about the fate of their friend, but the pressing matter of Witten's threat left no time for grief.

After some artful maneuvers to evade potential followers, Paul, Rostov and Huxley paid a visit to the offices of the Beneficial Society. There, an apologetic Witten attempted to make amends for "losing his temper" with Paul. He offered to seek his donor's permission to discuss details about the amulet (assisting the investigators in their fictitious attempt to appraise a similar artifact). There was no doubt in Paul's mind that Witten was lying; his years of haberdashery had given him a keen insight into human nature. Nonetheless, the investigators accepted Witten's promise to contact Rostov – whom he seemed to recognize from a lecture years before – with the results of his discussion with the donor.

After the interview, Paul distracted the vacuously charming secretary, Mary Cooper, while Rostov listened at the door of Witten's office. Despite some early successes, Paul's charismatic demeanor ran afoul of Mary's time-consuming hair-care regimen. Meanwhile, however, Rostov was able to discern the sound of furniture being moved within Witten's office. A cautious peek into the office was spotted by Witten, whereupon Rostov boldly entered and remarked upon the curious aquarium he had just noticed, the very piece of furniture Witten had been dragging across the floor.

Witten explained that the aquarium, enclosed on all sides, was designed for deep sea creatures that could not survive the low pressure of an ordinary tank. Within, strange, translucent spidery creatures crawled in an eerie silence. Witten called them "sea spiders," another exotic gift from an anonymous donor. "They are not true spiders, of course," he explained. "Rather some type of polyp. I don't know the scientific name."

There was something else odd about the aquarium, but Rostov could not place what it was. The ghost-like creatures drew him with an uneasy fascination, but he knew he could not push his luck any further. With an aristocratic bow, he bade farewell to Witten and the three men left the office.

Guarding against being followed, the investigators returned to the hotel room that Rostov had secured. It was now time to plan their next move, but Rostov had an unnerving feeling that their time was very short…

Ravenloft Character: Zargosz Duurr

"When all else fails, hit it with a stick."

Name: Zargosz Duurr
Race: Half-Orc
Class: Figther 1/Druid 5
Experience: 15000
Alignment: Neutral Good
Religion: Gatekeeper Druid
Homeland: Shadow Marches
Age: 26 Height: 6'4" Weight: 230 lbs.

Statistics: STR 16, DEX 17, CON 13, INT 8, WIS 18, CHA 11, BAB +4, Fort +6 (+8), Ref +1 (+5), Will +4 (+9), (All saves additional +2 vs Aberrations) Init +3, AC 19 (+3 Dex, +1 Two Weapon Defense [w/quarterstaff equipped], +5 Rhino Hide Armor), HP 46

Skills: Climb +1 (+6), Concentration +3 (+4), Craft: Woodworking +2 (1), Handle Animal +3 (+3), Jump +1 (+4), Knowledge (nature) +2 (+3), Knowledge (the planes) +1 (+0), Listen +1 (+5), Profession: Boating +1 (+5), Profession: Fishing +1 (+5), Spot +1 (+5), Survival +1 (+7), Swim +1 (+4)

Class Abilities: Animal companion, nature sense, wild empathy, Woodland stride, Trackless step, Resist nature’s lure, Wild shape (1/day)

Racial Abilities: Darkvision 60'

Weapons/Attacks: +7 melee (+8, 1d6+6, w/+1 Quarterstaff 2-handed, 3d6+6 when charging [Rhino Hide armor]), +7/+7 melee (1d6+4, w/+1 Quarterstaff, two weapaon figting), +7 melee (1d4+3 dagger), +7 ranged (+8, 1d6+3, masterwork throwing axe), +7 ranged (1d4+3, sling)

Equipment:

Rhino Hide armor, +1 Quarterstaff, Cloak of Resistance +1 (figured in), MW Throwing Axe, Sling, 30 bullets, backpack, bedroll, fishhooks x9, fishnet, 50' hemp rope, waterskin, smokestick, Explorer's Outfit, rations - 10 days, climber's kit, spell component pouch, grappling hook, tindertwigs x5, oil x2, sack x2, cheese, piton x2, antitoxin x2, tent, scroll case

Scrolls:

Flaming Sphere, Produce Flame x2, Magic Fand x4, Magic Stone x4, Cure Light Wounds x4, Cure Moderate wounds x2, Lesser Restoration, Longstrider x4, Speak with Animals

Feats: Two Weapon Fighting, Two Weapon Defense, Gatekeeper Initiate, Augment Summoning

Proficiencies: Simple and martial weapons, all armor & shields (metal prohibited)

Languages: Common, Orc

Animal Companion: S'saska
Constrictor Snake
Size/Type: Medium Animal
Hit Dice: 3d8+6 (19 hp)
Initiative: +7
Speed: 20 ft. (4 squares), climb 20 ft., swim 20 ft.
Armor Class: 15 (+3 Dex, +2 natural), touch 13, flat-footed 12
Base Attack/Grapple: +2/+5
Attack: Bite +5 melee (1d3+4)
Full Attack: Bite +5 melee (1d3+4)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Constrict 1d3+4, improved grab
Special Qualities: Scent
Saves: Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +2
Abilities: Str 17, Dex 17, Con 13, Int 1, Wis 12, Cha 2
Skills: Balance +11, Climb +14, Hide +10, Listen +7, Spot +7, Swim +11
Feats: Alertness, Improved Initiative, Toughness
Animal Companion Abilities: Link, share spells


History:

Many moons gone came Zargosz Duurr among the First People, on a night with a sky full of portents. Those who bore him, humble fisherfolk of a nameless place amidst the fens, raised him in their customs till he reached the Age of the Trial. He came before the Shaman, as all must, who saw in his Wisdom that he would be One to Walk the Path, and sent him to the Camp of the Wise to learn their Ways.

First, they taught Zargosz the Stick, for Those who walk the Path must sometimes stand and fight. This he learned well, for when steel may be rare, wood is plentiful, and the Stick will always be close at hand.

Next The Wise Ones told him the Old Stories, of the Great Evil that came to this World, and how they beat it back, and closed the Gate, and must now ever be vigilant lest it be openened again. And how they fight this Evil yet, for it was not all destroyed or driven away, but still plagues this World in its Dark Places.

Zargosz learned these tales he also came to understand how the World fights alongside, and aids One on the Path, and tells its Secrets to those Wise enough to hear. And hear he did, for Wisdom was his.

And there came a time when he went alone into the wilderness, as must be done, to partake of Sacred Plants to seek Visions and Knowledge. For many days and nights he chanted and drummed, and smoked the Leaf and ate the Cap, and saw many things. And a Great Serpent came unto him and spake and said, "Fear not, Zargosz Duurr, for I would not harm one such as you" and lifted him upon her head, larger than his raft by far, and bore him to a secret place where lay her unborn young.

She flicked one great green egg with her tounge (larger than his arm by far) and bade him, "Take you this, which is my child. Keep her warm and she will wake and leave her shell. Feed her and protect her and she will be your boon companion and ally in the hard days that lay before you. If you fail in this I shall know. Fail not, Zargosz Duurr, for I would not harm one such as you. Go you now. Snakes weep not, nor say farewell."

And Zargosz Duurr did as he was bid, for Wisdom was his.

And the egg hatched, and came into his care S'saska, his companion and help-meet, all bright green and golden-eyed, and whom he did feed and care for, and who did begin to grow.

Soon came the time of the Great Conclave, when the Wise from many places gather around the Sacred Stone, to chant and drum and tell the Stories, and take the Herbs to seek Wisdom, and Knowledge and Visions. Many Prophesies are made and, as always happens, on the fifth day, as the sun sets and the fires are lit, the Stone awakes and bathes their circle in an eldritch light. Then the Dragons speak to them, saying one thing to this, another to that. To Zargosz Duurr they spake saying, "Go you into the East, to a certain Crossroads, where you will meet Righteous Ones who serve the White Fire. Your paths will join and lead you to a Great Evil wich you must strive to overcome."

And it was given to him from the Wise Elders: a fine and blessed Fighting Stick, to smite the enemies of this World; a fine and blessed set of Hides, to guard him from his foes; and many Magical Words of the Earth, inscribed on fine papyrus, to aid him on this, his Quest.

And Zargosz Duurr and S'saska did leave the Holy Marshes, and go East to find the Righteous Servants of the White Fire, at the Crossroads, where their destiny lay.

In Madness Drowned: Prologue

Part 1



Part 2

Ravenloft Character: Oren Ghastor

Name: Oren Ghastor
Race: Shifter (Wildhunt)
Class: Monk 4/Paladin 3
Experience: 27566
Alignment: Lawful Good
Religion: Silver Flame
Homeland: Thrane
Age: 27 Height: 5'6" Weight: 127 lbs.

Statistics: STR 14 (16), DEX 14, CON 14, INT 14, WIS 18, CHA 14, BAB +6, Fort +7 (+11), Ref +4 (+8), Will +4 (+10), Init +4 (+2 Dex, +2 Shifter Instincts), AC 18 (+4 Wis, +2 Dex, +1 ring, +1 amulet), HP 58

Skills: Balance +2 (+6), Climb +2 (+8), Escape Artist +3 (+5), Heal +4 (+8), Hide +6 (+8), Jump +5 (+11), Knowledge (religion) +7 (+9), Listen +5 (+10), Move Silently +6 (+8), Sense Motive +4 (+9), Spot +4 (+9), Tumble +6 (+8)

Class Abilities: Evasion, Still Mind, Slow Fall (20 ft), +10 ft. move, Ki Strike (magic), Aura of Good, Aura of Courage, Detect Evil, Smite Evil 1/day (+2 hit/+3 damage), Divine Grace (+2 to all saves, already included), Lay on Hands (6 hp/day)
Action Dice: 6
Racial Abilities: Low-light vision, +2 on balance, climb, jump (already included), Wildhunt (+2 Con, Blindsight, 2/day for 8 rounds)
Weapons/Attacks: +9 melee (1d8+3, unarmed), +7/+7 melee (1d8+3, flurry of blows), +9 melee (2d6+4, greatsword), +9 melee (1d6+3, kama), +7/7 melee (1d6+3, kama), +9 ranged (1d8, masterwork longbow), +7/7 ranged (1d2, shuriken)

Equipment:

Gauntlets of Ogre Power (already figured in), Ring of Protection +1, Amulet of Natural Armor +1, (2) Potions of Hide From Undead, (1) Potion of Heroism, Masterwork Longbow (w/58 normal arrows, 20 adamantine arrows, 20 alchemical silver arrows), (15) alchemical silver shuriken, 50' silk rope, waterskin, 10 days rations, (2) flasks of holy water, silver holy symbol, monk's outfit, Valenar Riding Horse, 56 pp, 9 gp, 30 sp, letter of credit (750 gp), jewelled silver ring (200 gp)

Feats: Monastic Training, Deflect Arrows, Stunning Fist, Wildhunt Elite, Shifter Instincts
Proficiencies: Simple and martial weapons, monk weapons, all armor & shields (except tower)
Languages: Common, Elven, Sylvan

History: From the journal of Oren Ghastor:
Many of my race call me traitor. Many of my faith call me abomination. Too many others are ready to look at only what lies on the outside and judge, when the true nature of good and evil is underneath the flesh and bone, in the hearts and minds of others. My heart and mind are good, and pure, and true. This I know, and this I have dedicated my life to.

My life before the Silver Flame is so long ago, so alien to me, that it might as well not exist at all. Indeed, I don't remember my parents. I grew up in a Silver Flame monastery, part of the Order of the Argent Fist, raised by the monks there. When I was old enough to begin asking questions about why I was different, they told me the story of how I came there. That two shifters, a man and a woman, stumbled into the range of the sentries. That when they reached them, the shifters were dead of a variety of wounds, but they had a living, if badly wounded, baby with them. The monks took me in and prayed for me, believing that I would never survive. Not only did I survive, I manifested a patch of silver fur in the shape of a flame on my back. They viewed this as a sign, and from the moment I was old enough, they began teaching me.

Some of my first words were a request to become a Seeker of the Argent Fist. It is my calling, and I know that I have a great destiny. I am the Silver Flame's weapon against evil. But I am also a messenger, one of a few who can bridge the gap between my race and my faith. If more shifters knew the true danger the lycanthropic invasion presented, they wouldn't judge the actions of the Inquisition quite so harshly. By the same token, if those more fanatical proponents of the religion could only see that there is a difference between being touched by the beast and being a beast, they would realize that shifters are no more inherently evil or wicked than men.

It is my destiny to seek out evil and destroy it. Whether the danger be undead, mad warforged, corrupt humans or vicious tainted beasts, I will be ready to meet it, with fist and arrows and shurikens.

Oren died in battle with giants and a hag who was one of the Ravenloft Fanes. The hag killed him with her final attack before her companions destroyed it.

Upcoming Schedule - December/January/February

OK, it's about time to update the schedule again. This is all more tentative than usual, as we're coordinating more schedules and three (!) GMs and games in the upcoming months. It's also extended further out, since I wanted to have some idea when we might start Ravenloft But here's how I see it.

December 22nd - Gaming Off
December 29th - Call of Cthulhu

January 5th - Gaming Off
January 12th - Eberron: The Wrath of Vulkoor
January 19th - Eberron: The Wrath of Vulkoor
January 26th - Call of Cthulhu (or Ravenloft?)

February 2nd - Call of Cthulhu (or Ravenloft?)
February 9th - Call of Cthulhu
February 16th - Call of Cthulhu
February 23rd - Poker Game

Ravenloft character idea

Hey, everybody. Wanted to run this past you all. I was thinking of basing the party (since you all would have been adventuring together for some time) as something close to a covert task force for the silver flame. Since the church's reputation was tarnished by the purge, maybe they keep certain individuals around to handle tasks they'd rather the public not know they're involved in.

Just an idea...

A letter regarding the power of letters

Tobias Rothman
12006 Houston Street
New York, NY 10016

Dear Mr. Rothman,

Please allow me to first state that this letter is intended only for the eyes of Mr. Rothman. If you are a friend, associate, business acquaintence or family member of said gentleman, I urge you to put this letter down now and deliver it to him forthwith. I will not be held responsible for any damage that may come to your life after you read my story, but rest assured, once you know of these things your world will change in ways you cannot imagine.

At the very least, I assume I now have your attention, sir. I should begin with an introduction. In fact, this letter shall serve as little more than an introduction. It is my intention to begin a correspondence so that we might share information and perhaps meet one day soon when my business brings me to Manhattan (as it often does).

I was referred to you by Mr. Shelton Rabin, with whom I believe you are quite well acquainted. I understand that in addition to being one of the finest sources of diamonds in the United States, you are something of an expert in matters regarding the Kaballah and mysticism as well as other occult matters. It is upon this subject that I write to you.

Matters of the occult are not unknown to me. I grew up in a small schtedle in Poland where I learned the Torah as a matter of course and the secrets of Kaballah at my father’s side. Though I found the mystic teachings of our People interesting, I never thought that I might find a practical use for such skills. Then my brother Hyram and I went to war.

At first the war was like any other. We were trained in combat and learned the art of pugilism from our bunk mates even as the officers tried to drill us in other forms of hand to hand combat. I myself found that a pistol felt as natural in my hand as the Talmud.

One night found Hyram and I as the last surviving members of our unit, deep inside enemy territory. We knew then that we had no hope of survival. Yet we remembered the teachings of the Kaballah. We went to a local stream and there we found clay. Using certain methods that I’m certain you know as well as I, we fashioned the clay into the form of a man and upon his brow we wrote in Hebrew the word for truth, “Emet.” (Damn these American typewriters! What I wouldn’t do to have the holy letters upon these keys.) I must admit that we were nearly surprised when the golem actually stood up, ready to protect us from our enemies. And protect us it did. Before that day I thought that I had seen war, but I had never seen violence such as this. The creature’s strength was inhuman and without a soul there was no limit to the amount of harm the beast lay upon our enemies’ bodies. But when there was no one left the fight, the monster turned on its masters.

We ran all night trying to evade the creature, but as dawn rose over the mountains it caught up to us, lifting Hyram off the ground by his throat. I had no choice but to destroy the creature. And so I lifted my pistol (with only one bullet left, mind you) and took careful aim on the letters we had inscribed on the creature’s forehead. I shot the first letter, the Aleph, thus changing the word “Emet” (“truth”) to “Meit” (“dead”). The golem was no more and my brother yet lived.

But from that point on, I could not avoid the things that walk unseen in our world. It was as if summoning that magic had left a mark upon me. Even here in America it finds me. I have since married as has my brother. We live in Oklahoma City, having joined one of the Land Runs, you see. If you are not aware (as many outside of this young state are not), the Land Runs were executed to encourage settlement in this area that was at the time Indian territory and not even a state. Families and individuals lined up on a marker, each of holding a handful of wooden stakes and measured lengths of rope along with all our other worldly possession. A gunshot rang out and we ran to use our stakes and rope to measure out a parcel of land. A parcel of land that is our own to do with as we will. Hyram and I have built a fine house for our families and I am proud to say that our habidashery, Sir’s London Shoppe, is the finest in town. We’ve recently built a deck raised above the sales floor so that we can keep an eye on our customers and our sales people.

But I digress, sir. I am contacting you to enquire about certain symbols I have seen upon the body of a creature words cannot describe. I hope that you will write me back soon so that we can begin a dialogue on matters beyond the mortal world. Perhaps we will both learn answers to questions that have plagued us for far too long.

Sincerely yours,

Gus A. Paul


P.S. I would also like to discuss the purchase of a small portion of diamonds from you. I would like to present my lovely wife, Birdie, with a necklace and earrings that she might wear for certain social events. I am certain that in time the jewels will be handed down to our children and their children, perhaps making their way into wedding rings and the like as jewels so often do.

Blood On The Trail: An Autobiography by Buck Martin

(Notes for an autobiography found two years after Buck's death, dated June 14, 1928)

If'n you go asking around about my life, you might get some folks who say my recollections here ain't entirely right. But those folks are damn liars and fools, and you should spit on them and punch 'em in the face. If they ask why, tell 'em Buck Martin sent you, then kick them in their dangly parts just for good measure.

Anyhow... I was born in the 1860s in Kansas. I don't rightly know which year, as my folks weren't too keen on keeping track of specifics like that, but I do know we were a proud part of the Union. Which doesn't make me a damn yankee. I just don't see anything right about one man owning another count of his skin color. If that man is dumber than you, or slower than you, or maybe owes you money because he's worse at gambling than you, maybe you can own him. But not just because he looks like he spent a few turns too many poking his face into the oven to see if the biscuits were done. That just don't make any sense at all.

When I turned 14, I went to work. I rode with the Pony Express, delivering messages all over Kansas and a few other states besides. I was the best at my job, on account of I only needed to sleep for 2 hours a day, as long as I spent two more hours drinking whiskey. Which, y'all might be interested to know, you can easily do on horseback at a full gallop, if'n you're talented enough. Anyhow, after a few years riding across the state, I first met Buffalo Bill, when he brought his traveling show through to Kansas. I didn't know exactly what I was getting into when I paid my nickel and walked out into those bleachers, but when the show was over, I sure as shooting knew what I wanted to do.

So I went up to Mr. Buffalo Bill and asked for a job. He wasn't sure about a scrawny kid like me, but when I showed him that I could shoot, ride, tell funny stories and had the biggest pecker of anyone at the show, he gave me the job. I was the youngest rodeo clown they had, and they only gave me that job on account of they felt bad for all the leads in the show with their tinier peckers. Or at least, that's what I suppose. It would have been rude to ask.

For the next ten years or so, I kept on moving up in the show. I got to be the indian who yelled "How! We come in peace!" right before the cavalry gunned us down like the red-skinned savages we were. Then I was the man who tried to punch a cow, only to have the cow kick him square in the nether region as hard as it could. T'weren't a real cow, you understand, just two jealous fellers in a cow costume who did their best to break my magnificent pecker. But it was too strong for 'em. I think I broke their kicking foot on more than one occasion. Eventually, I got to be one of the cowboys, shooting, roping, riding and all that type of thing.

I met a lot of folks in that show, from Annie Oakley and Calamity Jane on to Wild Bill Hickok. It's a shame about old Bill, but it's like I always told him. "Bill, someday the injuns are gonna get ya." And they did, when he was playing poker and a band of wild injuns rode right in and scalped him on the spot. Leastaways, that's the way I heard the story.

Well, after a few years, I found that show business was getting to be too much for me, and I needed somewhere to settle down. I decided that other than his untimely death and mild drinking problems, Wild Bill might have had the right idea, and I went into the lawman business. Started out as a deputy in one town, had to leave over some unfortunate misunderstandings about whether or not a lawman was due free pussy at the local whorehouse and if so, how often and then moved on to another. There were always little misunderstandings like that. Drinks too much. Shot the mayor's favorite cow. Burned down the hardware store. Slept with the bank owner's wife. Broke into the bar to get whiskey. All trumped up charges by people jealous of my talents and my enormous pecker, by the by. I think it was the tenth town finally had the wisdom to make me sheriff, after their previous sheriff died in a fight with a bear. I killed the bear, took its pelt and claimed the star.

Or it might have been he died of dysentery on the trail, and I took the star off his corpse. Can't rightly remember, it was a long time ago. Pretty sure it was the bear, though.

I was sheriff for a good long time, at least until the turn of the century. Got it in my head to try my hand at some of them dime novels, and turned out I was pretty good at them. Writing true tales of the wild west started to get a little dull, though, so I branched out into writing monster stories like the young'uns like. Got pretty rich doing that, and had to quit my sheriffin job to write all the time. The town was real understanding, leastaways I heard they were. I had to move to the city to further my writing career, and didn't have time for formal resignations and such. But I'm sure everything went fine. I made sure and open up the jail when I left so nobody would be wrongly imprisoned, and I left my sleeping deputy my best bottle of whiskey and a shiny gold sheriff star, not to mention a fully loaded Colt peacemaker, to deal with any troublemakers. Last I left, those escaped convicts looked plenty scared, and I doubt any of 'em even tried to leave.

Well, my writing career just took off, and pretty soon I was rich and famous. Traveled all over the country spinning yarns, performing in shows and doing good deeds. Even inspired some other writers to follow in my footsteps, like Lucas Huxley, the man who wrote the spookiest damn lifeboat massacre story you'll ever read. I didn't ever dream I might come face to face with real monsters, just like the ones out of my storybooks. But I did, and I'm pretty sure I'll be writing true tales of western adventure and fighting monsters for the rest of my days. Think I'll probably invest my wealth in that new stock market, because a man should plan for a more stable future, and my friend, what they call a broker, told me there ain't nothing more stable than the stock market.