RPG Campaigns

Giraine Summaries

Hello,

You trained for ~5 weeks, into Storm Season 1623, with Boamund learning an Evoke Salamander spell from Old Moreg (begrudgingly), Fraud improving his Healing skill, Bog getting some Conceal tips from Bradde Mukkh, and Miguel spending time hunting and bonding with the Sottogh, including Groad. Word in New Arv was that the war in Nolos had flared up, with Seshnela pushing hard and gaining new territory. It looked grim.

You regrouped and headed toward the Library, opting to visit the 3 stacked white stones on the way. With some further experimentation, it became clear that they did nothing special for Bog (only working for sorcerers, maybe?), gave improvement rolls to others and a Wrack Fire to Miguel; and that their benefits only worked once for a person. You then skirted northwest of Burnt Priests' Hill, being gently warned to keep your distance as the Giranois were gathering in some convocation with the Pontiff of Granno; and you could see them by the dozens there.

Further north of the 'Hill, you spotted a camp and Miguel saw that it was Jzhurte's warband, who'd been missing for some weeks now. On investigation, it became apparent that Jzhurte, exiled and frustrated, and horrified by the sights of the undead issuing from the Wormweald, had lost his faith and was sitting inactive and impassive, merely explaining “We wait. We watch. We rest. The struggle has been long. The enemy many. Alone we are.”. Prior Mujahid the Treasurer of the Evracians was there with his Giranois convert the girl Zuhayra, and was quietly eying up your investigation. He claimed innocence when pressed, but Fraud saw he was lying. Something was up. You insisted he leave now, and although Jzhurte spoke up in his defense, that he was of Giranois blood and had helped Jzhurte's band, Mujahid lost the argument and so he packed up and left with Zuhayra, followed secretly by Bog and Miguel. They tracked them until nightfall, when the two camped and slept. Bog cast Darkness to cover his approach and tried a Fear spell on Zuhayra but she held her ground. Miguel conjured a loud dinosaur-sound that frightened her. Mujahid, however, was struck by a stone from Miguel that knocked him out. Bog then came in and grabbed Mujahid's tongue and bit it off-yum! Zuhayra was helpless in the darkness, holding her dagger out defensively and stabbing ineffectually at Mujahid's senseless form when Bog tossed it her way. She was left screaming in terror and Bog and Miguel fled.

Boamund spoke calmly with Jzhurte while Fraud stood guard. He learned what was up. Under Mujahid's influence, Jzhurte had withdrawn his forces from any action and was struggling against a pull away from Giranois faith toward Rokarism. But he was strong, so his faith hung in limbo. He was in despair that he could not join with the Sharde and others with the Pontiff's ceremonies. Boamund inquired about becoming a Saviour of the Sharde, told that he'd need to find the Elders in the right mood for it in order to receive a challenge. Jzhurte muttered something about maybe Mujahid being a Saviour and that didn't sound good…

You rested at Jzhurte's camp and then the next day continued along the edge of the Bad Place. Early that night, your camp was visited by Shrett of the Gratt clan, and his small family (all that remained of this old clan). “Elder Shoor warned me you would return. The evil of the Wormweald awaits you with an icy grip that has grown even stronger, grace of Granno preserve us,” he said. He explained when asked that Gratt was a great ancestor who knew the original Thralls of Granno– the four saints. The clan, led by Gratt, opposed them (once they became traitors) and Yomil, remaining totally loyal to Granno, and have lived in this part of Giraine ever since. They love Granno more than any over clan/family, or so they claim; they ignore the Old Gods as of trivial importance to Granno. Shrett confided that Gratt had vanished when at Granno's side facing Yomil; he was considered a holy martyr.

As you told Shrett of your mission, he told you things he'd seen at the Wormweald… “From afar I once saw the riders come forth from the Wormweald. Seven warrior-slaves; Men-of-Nothingness; that you had gifted unto Yomil. From afar I heard their wild shrieks, and gurgling insane words, amidst which I heard your names. They seek you, this Order of the Vengeful Worm. I am glad they do not seek the Gratt, yet. Enter the Wormweald and they will find you.” He slumped his shoulders, cursed under his breath, and pulled a frog out of his jerkin and stroked it silently. And then, he gave each of you a cord strung with bits of bone and beetle shells, forming a Death rune: explaining that this was a gift from the Sharde elders. Once a talisman like this was given to you because you would surely be slain and become undead. Now this was given to you to ward you from undeath; the curse has been made as a blessing. “But go too far and it will do you no good. Yomil's power is greater than Gratt's or Sharde's. If you can return, do so with proof that the warrior-slaves of Yomil are defeated. Elder Shoor awaits that news.” He had a new air of sad, resolved commitment. His words made you recall that, for the Sharde to join the war against the Seshnelans with the Sottogh and others, you still needed to bring Shoor proof that the Rokari you'd left at “Yomilstor” (Library) were defeated. Shrett's tale of Sir Not's band made you think you might do this. Easier said than done…

The Shretts moved quietly onwards and you rested then moved on into the Bad Place the next day, approaching the Wormweald/Maggotwood. A pelting hailstorm blew in; a Walwind's (Valind) Breath; rolling over the Fosnoir from the north. Miguel guided you to shelter, finding a crumbling stone ruin comprising a single wall and archway supporting a partial upper floor that gave meagre but welcome cover. As you waited out the storm, Boamund spotted an almost musical, tinking-crackling noise as ice formed on the interior wall, into a rectangular sheet of about 2m high x 1m wide. The sheet took on a hazily reflective glimmer as it quickly completed forming. Inspecting, he saw a vague image of a white-bearded Zzaburi in silvery robes looking back out of the mirrored sheet. The figure reached out and traces a form onto the sheet, which persisted, revealing a Cold rune. Boamund touched it and gained 1-use Conjure Ice Wall spell; then the ice-mirror melted and soon the Walwind's Breath storm ended.

The former Wizardwood had become even worse! Empty of life entirely. The forest remained; skeletal and coated in ice. Once a vibrant green, the wood was now greyish white, stale and stinking. Silent, no wind; still; choking with cold, icy branches barren of any leaves. The ice-shrouded bark and branches of the foreign plantlife were the only evidence of past life here (some conifers, other northern trees)- not like elsewhere on Giraine, nor of Tarinwood or any forest nearby. The woods were, as ever, surrounded by hilly, rugged terrain- gullies, creeks, screes. Inevitably, as before, when you arrived, night fell and you were suddenly deep in the wood. Miguel led you onwards. Soon, as you began passing old brickwork remnants of Second Age ruins, the enemy came. Seven riders on maggot-ridden horses whose hooves never touched ground; each rider a shell of old armour filled with undead flesh squirming with bluish worms small and large. Sir Not hollowly, horribly called out: “Master has watched you by the Book of Eyes, and calls you unto service… but first it is our honour to serve you death!” and they charged.

It was one of your most brutal fights. Boamund was best by three lancers including Sir Not, and Fraud and Miguel each by two, while Bog took cover behind Fraud. Miguel did his best, unleashing his Wrack Fire spell to some effect, but eventually the skilled Men-of-Nothingness knocked him down with their lances and battered him around on the icy woods' floor, knocking him repeatedly far behind the melee into the woods and keeping him busy healing wounds. Then one wound brought him numb and unconscious, and the rider picked him up and rode off. Fraud and Bog developed an excellent strategy, with Fraud defending using his Shadowed-Shield while Bog took his maul (soon with a Seal Wound miracle to stop the regenerating wormy-undead) and hit the lancers as they came in. One rider was unhorsed but it took precious time to beat him down; he kept being disarmed but had plenty of backup weapons. Boamund struggled to keep himself alive against three foes: he disarmed one, who soon faced him in melee with a sword. It looked bad for Boamund when his shield was knocked away by a lance, yet Fraud and Bog came in just in time to help. Sir Not was finally unhorsed and disarmed and then struck down, shrieking a final shriek! Three riders remained (two bearing nasty head wounds), with one bearing Miguel, and they wheeled about with gurgling insane calls and rode into the frosty woods together, their calls echoing eerily until silence fell again.

Your mission of vengeance was now a rescue mission! Yomil would soon have Miguel, and your memories turned to a side room where a cruel torture-bed and instruments of skin-flaying awaited. In the past, the “Bookmaker” undead creature had taken Boamund and Fraud there for some wicked purpose, but last visit you'd destroyed it. What did Yomil have waiting for Miguel? You did not want to think of this, but hurried to help.

BTW…. Who has the Key??? I see it on Ahappi's sheet but we could say that he handed it off to someone…… this is rather important!

[Party luck pts = zero again, eek!] -John

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