RPG Campaigns

Giraine Summaries

What started off as a stalemate or worse with the iron-things quickly turned, as the Captain unleashed the vial of “living rust” from Evakranem onto the constructs. It became a cloud of fizzing, scouring, hungry caustic solution that did eat away at the metal of the constructs, causing them what seemed like pain or other disablement, but it also blinded some of you and ate away at your own metal, leaving Boamund and others almost or entirely unarmoured or disarmed. Worse yet, it was not harmless to naked skin, causing burning of the eyes and even scalding the skin– it was not safe to remain within the cloud of rust for long. You took advantage of this disruption, though, to press your attack, and soon you were dismantling the weakened things, which had become more brittle or even were explosively vaporized when hit hard enough, thanks to the hungry rust that ravaged them.

You were also, strangely, aided by the disturbing time-shifts that continued to wash over the area. One focused on the Captain, leaping time forward just as he struck at an iron-thing and granting him a deadly blow! Another stopped time all around you, and only the strong-willed could move– which turned out to leave you active and the dull-minded things even more helpless! At least once, you could hear that “OOOOOOoooooOOOO” sound in the distant depths and see the vaguely organic-mechanical, cephalopod-like hull of some sort of vehicle-creature.

As you felled the last of the constructs, the shade of Saint Buquaim appeared in the bridge room, hazy in the clouded, bubbling waters. As it stood watching, the Captain approached to parley with it- but an unexpected rage (or was it pity? Self-interest in his own heroism? Disgust?) swept over him and he struck as the saint reached out toward “His” spear, impaling the spirit upon the gnarled weapon. With a rasping wail, the haunted soul left this world– for good, you figured, as a wave of power swept from it.

With that wave, the living rust spread around the ship and cracks were rending in the very hull of the drowned-castle. Through those cracks came scowling-faced, ironically crazed and irate phantoms of Mostali. You were making haste to leave, but paused: Miguel used a phantom sound spell to create something mimicking the presence of Pellinoresbane, and others amongst you rushed the spirits to strike at them as they dispersed away from the shipwreck. You feared that the ghosts would cause trouble around the local seas or island if they escaped, so you used magics and spirit-combat to dispel as many of them as you could. Then, as the ship continued to break up and the nautiloid-thing seemed to depart, hinting that the curse here was ending, Ahappi drew out the conch shell and blew it to call the Ouori to you…

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