Adventurers
- Harlin Winklevos (Fighter 3)
- Henry (Cleric 4)
- Koko (Fighter 6) and Umphred (Cleric 4)
- Mandras (Dwarf 5)
- Rarder (Fighter 6) and Konrad Claver (Dwarf 4)
- Simon (Elf 3)
The adventurers resupplied in Ximes and took the opportunity to invite an archivist to their quartered weapons to see if he could given them any info (strictly historical, certainly nothing magical) about some of the weapons and armour they’d found over the last few weeks. Alas, he could only give a vague description of the sword’s reputation for being wielded by warriors who got injured a lot while dealing a lot of damage themselves. Not especially helpful, but he happily took the party’s money anyway, and volunteered his services to register the magical artefact with the Duke.
Keen to hunt down Gaspard du Nord and his fancy mirror, the adventurers departed Ximes and headed along the river to the coast. They bumped into a lone traveller on the way, who introduced himself as Gilles Grenier, a wandering apothecary who for naturally preferred to avoid magic-hating civilisation. The party failed to convince him to join their warband, so bought a potion which would charm anyone whose hand was shaken with a doused glove, and camped outside Vyones with their band of mercenaries.
While they waited for night to fall, Simon took out the scroll case they’d discovered in the sunken temple, unclasped it and took out the scroll. Having cast Read Magic upon himself, he unfurled it and disappeared. Where once an elf had stood there was now a three foot high creature with one eye and nine tentacles: a mini Malachie. Fortunately, it appeared it was still Simon underneath, and he could still speak and cast spells. His depth perception might be shot but he could make a handy torchbearer.
Determined to keep him out of sight from the city, the party quickly packed up the next morning and headed on to the cliff caves. Mandras used his Sword of Sylaire to fly a rope down to the entrance and everyone quickly descended into the gloom.
Determining that their quarry resided to the south east, they retraced the path they’d last taken, hoping to push on a little further. In the room where they’d had to lop Umphred’s spider-bitten arm off, they found several near-transparent figures standing silently. They warily waited in the doorway while the forms approached, but they stopped a few feet away. There was little discernible detail in their faces but they did not appear aggressive, nor did they react to a coin flicked through them. Henry tried banishing them in the name of Tharok but was met with a complete lack of response. Walking right through them provoked nothing and, although the figures followed slowly behind the party, they did nothing to hinder the adventurers in their quest.
Eventually the party reached the set of doors with underwater hunters carved into them. Hearing voices through one of them, they creaked it open and stepped inside. They were met with a potent smell of dead fish and seaweed which lined the walls in a form of grotesque deco. Stepping around the pile of water-bloated corpses in the middle of the room, they were greeted by a smiling trio of women, though their limbs were just slightly too long, their necks exaggeratedly so and rictus grins contorting their faces horribly. The occupants started advancing towards the party, and with a cry the adventurers wrested the initiative and charged.
They cut one down quickly but, as Mandras turned to face the next, her gaze struck him. His comrades recoiled as he dropped dead. The third creature wrench away Rarder’s shield and locked eyes with him, and the party’s longest-serving member also collapsed. The remaining adventurers pressed on, fighting through waves of terror and revulsion as the sudden movements brought forth stronger smells and vile visages.
Hearing a door opening in the darkness beyond, Konrad barrelled his way through and attacked a fourth figure. The solidifying shape of some hideous monster vanished next to her as he hack into her shoulder and disrupted the spell. Hissing at him, she drew a tarnished silver dagger and sliced at him, ignoring his offer of parley.
The rest of the party managed to slay the last of the original trio and raced to join Konrad, only to find the cleric-turned-dwarf dead on the ground, killed by a serious of light but wicked cuts. With a cry the survivors attacked her and cut her down before she had a chance to cause further tragic mischief.
Stunned by the loss of three of their most experienced companions, the party explored the grotty remains of this caster’s lair, unearthing a chest in which they found a deck of cards amongst other treasures. Pocketing the various magical items, potions and gems, the party dragged their fallen comrades all the way back to the cave entrance and hauled them up the cliffs. They set off in sorrowful silence. Their destination in this land of anti-magical human civilisation was once again to the Tower of Sylaire in hope that they may benefit from the elves’ life-giving magic once again.