RPG Campaigns

Giraine Summaries

Hi all,

Last night you discussed what to do next with this hellish revelation, and then the Baronet Mudlark came jogging along with the guard that fetched him. He was surprisingly(?) jolly about the whole affair but there was a heated argument from the Baronet Shaven, who demanded his lead idol back.

Mudlark eventually convinced you to come back to his manor and drink more Snaps liqueur with him, with a pledge that he'd try to recover your idol soon. He speculated that the golden statuette of the young maiden you'd recovered was Yelmalion, which gave you a good laugh as that was the least likely possibility; it was pagan for sure. Anyway Mudlark confessed little knowledge or understanding of the dark thief-thing that had troubled you, and showed little interest in it; “Gives the men something to talk about, ho ho.” Lord Shaven (And Boamund, as usual) refused to dive into their cups with mad Mudlark, but he cajoled the Captain into it, whereas Ciddar took little urging. A peasant healer girl was called to rub salves into your frostbite, which did help a bit, and then Ciddar ran off with her and a couple of bottles (returning with very shiny skin the next morning and a big grin; then vanishing into the fort with her again later).

With all the talking and drinking at the Baronet's manor, you learned a few tidbits, namely that the dark demonic entities in that shack/gateway to hell were in the early stages of negotiations with Mudlark/Big Ron. They were being asked to bring demon mercenaries to the fort to help wipe out the Giranois (or Sharde at least? Unclear, but the former was hinted at). And there were hints, which Ahappi remembered later the next day, that Big Ron had a bigger plan for Giraine– you speculated against the Rokari and/or Seshnelan kingdom? Full independence for Giraine? Could be any or all of these things, you supposed. Yet Big Ron's aspirations had now taken on a darker tone for you, and there were many views on the topic within the party.

To your surprise the next morning, a quite coherent Baronet Mudlark gave Baronet Shaven a bottle of Snaps that rattled and clunked. With a grin, he welcomed Shaven to smash it, and inside was the statuette. With a bit of a wink, Mudlark strode out of the manor to begin organizing his mens' daily routines. You slipped off to the nunnery in the corner of the fort and convinced a soft-spoken little nun of St Xemela to treat your remaining wounds. She had the Baronet and Captain lay down on straw beds while she gently scolded you for suffering such “mortal wounds” and coming “so close to death's door”– no stranger to hyperbole and melodrama, this nun. But she proved her saint's power by instantly healing all your wounds as well as cleaning your body and spirits with one simple prayer and a few gestures with sprinklings of holy water. Chased by her clucking tongue about your dances with danger, you left the nunnery and, amply re-provisioned by the fort's stores, left the fort as well.

You followed the coast west from the fort back toward New Arv, and soon found yourself in oppressively muddy swamps. Boamund felt something brush roughly against him, then it grabbed the Captain who hurled it off with a shrug, and then it slinked away for a moment- Boamund had seen it and described it as long, thin and dark. It came back and grabbed the Baronet, rasping at his leg armour. With a few blows from the Captain's harpoon and Baronet's dagger, it released Lord Shaven and tried to slip away, but you hacked at it and soon it was dead. It was a giant hagfish, bigger than a man and a hideous mottled purple like a great long bruise. Worst of all, it had shrouded everything it touched in a disgusting cloudy mucus, which now coated your legs and weapons. As you struggled to get this cloying goo off, Boamund noticed a man sitting in a tree on the shore. It turned out to be Verker, who gave you the usual gruff Giranois taunting/scolding but then noted he could see three more of these wormy horrors coming toward you through the waters. You came ashore and used fire from Boamund's fireblade spell to char some of the goo off, and wipe the rest off where you could, but were left uncomfortably lubricated and at times adhesive.

Verker hurried along the coast with great purpose; the Captain lagged behind and left a trail for the Baronet, because Shaven was cursing and frenetically trying to wipe off the hagfish goo. Boamund kept pace with the nimble Giranois, and soon you all crossed a little stream and stood in the reeds below an elevated promontory in which a gloomy cave was set, looking out onto the reefs. Boamund spotted two little faces watching you from atop the rise, while Verker spent a long period in the grotto apparently speaking to its resident(s). Soon Verker came out with another Giranois, who sauntered right up to you.

This odd Giranois was the young head of the Cjed family, and he was named Cjaek. He looked much like the others of his kind at first, perhaps more bowlegged and crouched than most, but you gradually spotted unique features and a distinct proud bearing that was backed up with confidence, not just bluster. He casually waved around a bluish-tinted, wavy-bladed sword that he said he'd grabbed from an inland ruin, and he asked each of you why he should let you live. He was unimpressed by Shaven's and Boamund's arguments of love and honour, but liked the Captain's emphasis on doom, so he spoke with Ahappi and snarled at the others when they spoke. He was friendlier and certainly more unconventional than the other Giranois you'd met– he showed interest in the Captain's sailing knowledge, which he admitted his folk had lost, and rambled on in length about the Old Gods, especially the “Deep Mother”, who Ahappi also showed some interest in. He knew the Sharde clan and intimated he might help you deal with them, but then soon a voice spoke from behind you.

“He knows what you want, Captain. Stop toying with them, Cjaek. Oh, finally someone worthy of respect. Captain, it's good to meet a kindred spirit. I've followed your story for quite some time now. Not bad.” He shook Ahappi's hand and pulled close, sniffing deeply. “Long journey from down south. See anything interesting?” Ahappi told him bits of your recent journeys and he intensely listened and asked for more detail. The man was vaguely Wareran (white), but with hints of Pithdaran/Pamaltelan blood; he was swarthy and tanned, ugly with a awkwardly-shaped head. He was entirely hairless except for a long black ponytail on the back of his head, and bore deep runic scars exhorting Pithdaran spirits/nodes on his forehead. He was wiry but of medium height, but with a savage grace and steely dark eyes that enhanced his cold-blooded yet passionate demeanor.

This was Aym Alamyn, the man you'd sought, and he quickly told you he was also called “The Unsighted One” by the Giranois, remarking that he was some sort of living legend and prophesized helper of the natives. Most disturbing of all, he really liked to be close to you and smell you, speaking of odors as if they intoxicated him. This man was a criminal; a murderer; an assassin; with a cunning that left you uneasy. He wanted to fight the Captain sometime, just to smell his blood, but would wait for a more appropriate moment. While Verker and Cjaek had a surprisingly warm welcome and whispered to each other off to one side of you, you spoke to this mysterious agent of Big Ron.

You learned from Aym that: 1- The Cjed family (just Cjaek and his two kids now; the mother was not to be spoken of) was very old and had strong ties to the origin of the Giranois. It was also closely tied to the Sharde clan, and the Old Gods, who Aym called “monsters” that the Giranois had turned to long ago after St Granno became harder to reach. The Old Gods were the Deep Mother, Tanok and Loidar the Skinless Prince, and it seemed some clans favoured one or the other. Aym thought the Giranois also had something to do with the Fosnoir strait and its link to Hell.

2- Aym had endeared himself to the Sharde clan and would help you deal with them. He explained a plan to you– you would go to them soon. First you would probably speak with their Mud Hag (he was surprised to learn you'd met one on your lands, and confused why there would be one there without any Giranois nearby, as the Mud Hags and Giranois tended to associate). Then you would fight some chaos demons that had been troubling the Giranois for ages. If you defeat them for good, that would remove their need for a magic artefact called the Foestopper; a fan that sounds like it is one of the last two missing Saints' Weapons. But you'd also need to liberate them from demonic elder(s) with some sort of coup. If you did this, you should be able to gain the fan and an alliance of sorts with the Sharde clan, perhaps even bringing new peace to the island (the Sharde are the source of much of the Giranois' violent activities against colonists these days).

3- Aym's interest was in gaining new weapons to fight great foes of Big Ron- political weapons like the Sharde/Giranois, and physical weapons like those you sought. He explained that the great foe of the Giranois, old foes of Granno, had been awakened by you in the Maggotweald (formerly the Wizardwood), and to defeat them you needed more darkness and light (fire/sky) magics. The demonic horse-things in Fort Mudlark might be one of those, and you had your own darkness/fire powers too- you all had been recruited by Big Ron for such talents. But Aym said you needed more. And those evil foes were just the beginning.

But soon it came time to endure the standard Giranois greeting of the tea ritual. Deep in the Cjed's grotto (or glorified, muddy tunnel) Cjaek had been preparing a special brew over smouldering coals for you while you made small talk with Aym Alamyn. Soon he came with it, on a special rune-carved bronze tray supporting bone, rune-carved cups of bubbling broth. “To our health,” Cjaek said amidst his muttered incantations, “And to good visions,” as he thrust the tray into your faces and you inhaled the pungent brew. No normal tea ceremony this one– you could tell it was dripping with ancient meaning and magic. And so the next heroquest began.

Until next week -John

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