A brutal session it was, and the Night of a Thousand Lamps has only begun! I believe only Bog was left with a Luck Point, and Party Luck pts are down to 0 again.

It starts pleasantly enough. The lavish Grimoald Barge has raised decks at bow and stern, respectively for entertainment and the extended Grimoald family, and fits some four dozen people. It is covered by a colourful linen canopy with the family crest. The woodwork has been freshly polished and there are braziers set about the deck even though the daylight is still strong enough. There are couches and benches and stools, and slaves roam the decks serving all manner of tasty delights. There is a lower deck of rowers and some other spaces from which delicious aromas of cooking waft upward. The passengers are mostly locals of the noble caste of Rokari; plus a few notable local non-Rokari and some lucky peasant-caste merchants of some wealth. And several armed and armoured guards from the soldier caste. Probably a wizard somewhere, but they don’t stand out. A musical trio of flutist, drummer and singer are playing soothing music. You begin enjoying yourselves but also looking around and listening; mainly to business chat in Tradetalk, and small talk in Safelstran. Bog is already bored despite the snacks (although he sees the finer points of what this nobility can procure with their local cuisine), and tries talking to the musicians but they shrug at his attempts in Ralian. Bog’s mood doesn’t improve as the journey continues. You spy out two slaves wearing silver bracelets and keep an eye on them but they do nothing odd.

The barge gets underway and slowly goes upriver as people relax and enjoy the view of farms and orchards. Dinner courses are served. As a juggler is taking the stage on the stern, all but Bog hear the sound of timber snapping and groaning. The barge must have struck something? The barge twists in the water, some people fall down and one goes overboard, then the barge shudders violently, and the passengers panic. Boamund looks to one side of the barge (to the shore), seeing a broken end of an oar floating downstream behind the barge now, and eddies of water around one spot by the barge’s waterline.

You go to the stairs to get below decks and a guard stops you, saying that the Lord Sigeric Grimoald has gone in with guards and not requested your help, so you should stay put. You don’t press the issue. Soon the Lord hurries out of the lower decks and speaks to the whole deck, “My friends, we have had some trouble below. Our clumsy pilot has steered onto some rocks and knocked a hole in our hull. Worry not, as my barge has blessings that keep the waters from sinking it. But my captain Fredegar insists that we must stop to make repairs, and he knows a flat field ahead where we can do so. We will simply move the dinner ashore. Captain Fredegar is confident that we still will have time to return to Carbo tonight.”

You look to him as he gradually goes to the upper back deck to join his family. Boamund spots that he is nervous, trying to hide it. There is a little splatter of blood on the bottom of his tunic. Boamund gets past the guard to the upper deck and joins the Lord (followed by Fraud), who quietly explains what happened and says that he is worried that everyone will miss the performance. “A large rower slave went mad and knocked out the steersman, grabbed the tiller and forced the barge onto the rocks. Crewmembers tried to stop him but he was strong. One of my guards grabbed a broken oar and ran the slave through the ribs with its broken end. But the barge indeed is going to be fine. There’s just a mess in the lower deck, making the slaves’ jobs harder but that’s their lot in life.” Shrett has been watching the decks and offering healing help if needed below, but is not called on. Bog is just standing around grumpy, but casts Detect Enemy and finds no foes. Boamund and Fraud suggest to Lord Grimoald that those two slaves with bracelets should be secured, and he agrees after taking more advice about it, and guards discretely haul them away, taking their bracelets off. And yes indeed, that dead slave had a bracelet on!

The barge is skilfully grounded and the crowd spills out, aided by the slaves and guards. They hastily erect a pavilion and move the party inside, with furs to cover the ground. You note that some of the slaves are soaking wet or even muddy, and frantic; visibly stressed. They’ve seen something awful firsthand, probably, below decks. Yet the juggler is joined by acrobats who tumble around his thrown wooden orbs in a skilful act. Dinner continues. A conjurer entertains the audience with sorceries that cause animated pieces of furniture to wrestle. You watch, listen, and Shrett casts Detect Sorcery which shows nothing surprising. Fine desserts come; Bog partakes as a distraction from his glum mood.

Lord Grimoald announces the final show, (Safelstran) “And now, an exciting challenge that I have been anticipating. From rugged lands comes a wild barbarian of the East Wilds, with the unbridled fury of the Storm Gods, and vulgar disregard for covering his shame, preferring to boorishly show his blue tattoos and excessive hair. From deep caves comes a hideous dark troll of Guhan, once a fierce warrior of some Uz queen, but now half out of its mind from pent up rage against humankind. The challenge is for them to duel to the death; unarmoured; the Orlanthi will have a sword and shield, and the troll a hefty lead mace. And the challenge for you; if you see fit to wager; is to reason who will survive to fight again.” The nobles begin casting some friendly bets; you do not partake. Bog watches with much interest now, making barking cheers for the Uz. It’s hard to watch the duel even though you’ve all been used to slaves’ mistreatment in Seshnela. You figure the beefy male Uz is going to splatter the Ralian, but the duel starts off with plenty of drama. They trade blows at first without harm, then the Uz is disarmed and takes a nasty slash to the arm as he parries the Orlanthi’s sword. But he then makes a deft manoeuvre as the warrior miscalculates, and grabs his mace back. There’s more trading of blows, and the Uz is almost tripped once, then is knocked down, and takes a wicked gash to the stomach, then the winning blow comes from the Ralian, opening up the Uz’s guts wide. Skill has won over brute strength. The crowd yells for him to bring death to the krjalk. Bog is outraged and rushes in, roaring (in Ralian, which enough people understand in context) that if the Uz is killed, then the warrior must fight him. Calls come from the crowd to heed the Lord’s words and end this, and the guards put themselves between Bog and the Orlanthi. Unarmed and unarmoured and without support from others, Bog sees he has no recourse and stomps away as the Orlanthi cuts off the troll’s head, and money changes hands around the crowd. The troll is unceremoniously dragged off to be burned, and the bloodied Ralian ushered onto the barge without ceremony.

The party ends, the barge is ready to return to its trip, and the people begin to board again as slaves break down the encampment. Everything is swiftly underway as night falls. Bog thinks out loud about stalking off to the manor on his own to get his things and go, but sees the hopelessness of this with the distance and unfriendly lands. So he boards with the rest of you. However, word begins spreading that the barge is too far from Carbo to return in time for the performance. Indeed, shouts of alarm begin when the barge rounds a bend and comes into sight of Carbo to the north, which is lit by many dancing flames and veiled by snaking columns of smoke.

Lord Grimoald is below decks and the barge is being rowed double-time as guards and servants prepare for fighting fires. The wind shifts violently, bringing the barge smoke and sounds of screams from Carbo. As the barge comes into distant view of the docks, it is clear that there is fighting across the city, and a great amount of damage. Boats moored at the docks are on fire. People are running everywhere; some armed. There is screaming and blood. You see a woman leap to her death from a wall; an old man douses himself in lamp oil and leaps onto a burning cart; and a howling gang of people with knives and peasant tools chases a smaller group. Lord Grimoald orders the barge to stop and then row backwards away from town.

Lord Grimoald comes onto the deck and proclaims, (in Safelstran) “Friends, I cannot explain what is happening. I am as shocked as you all. We are not landing here! The docks are not secure! Please, stay on my barge where it should be safe, if you so wish, or we have a few rowboats to take people ashore if they must go into town, but could cannot ensure anyone’s security until my forces wrest back control of Carbo from whatever has gone so wrong.”

Grimoald sidles over to you as you discuss what to do– (in Tradetalk) “You are the only heroes here who can help. You will earn my eternal debt if you can cross the town to my manor and see if it is safe, while investigating what the crisis is here. My few knights I will set on the rivershore here will be aiding, too, but there is not enough of them.” You agree. You want your stuff back! Grimoald has guards bring what they can to arm you up. There’s no time for putting on armour, and there is little to spare. You get 2 broadswords, 1 shortspear, 2 target shields, 1 heavy lead mace (from the Uz), and 3 daggers, which suit you well enough; you distribute them. The barge stops about 500m south of the town, and most people remain aboard in a panic. Some possibly foolhardy people do go ashore. And you do.

The northwestern and southwestern sides of town and the fields outside are an awful conflagration that is encroaching on the western main gate. On the outskirts of town, about two dozen people have either leapt from the rooftops; none of which are on fire yet; or hung themselves from trees. Crazed people are scattered around, either screaming madly or engaging in extreme violence. You watch and it seems like maybe the soldiers here can handle things, unless more threats come.

You come to the southwestern gates, aiming to cross through town. You can see inside. Carbo is filled with madness and horror. It is slow approaching the gates, picking your way through carnage and wreckage. Several people have survived their falls and reach out, moaning. Bog gets grabbed by one wounded, crazed person lying nearby, who pulls him roughly to the ground by his ankle, twisting it. You hurry in and easily dispatch the madman and get Bog moving. Ahead, a void-eyed man in the garb of a well-to-do merchant screams from a rooftop, “I seest the glowing of such fires!” and plunges to his death atop a cartload of bricks. Fraud jolts in alarm. He has not heard the Purple Sonnet spoken in some years. He pulls his wits together instinctively, drawing on the Ebon Sanctuary’s mystic energy.

You pass pockets of soldiers fighting rioters and make it to the gates. Just inside the gates, in an area with many flaming buildings, howling and screaming comes from around a corner a ways ahead. You hurry around another corner. Looking back, you see that some two dozen people who are soaked in blood but unarmed come rushing, empty-eyed and raving: (in Safelstran) “We wash, we rinse, we bathe ourselves in the manure of ages, scrubbing ourselves with worms! So cometh Urcheth!” They don’t spot you as you run off; their murderous intent is focused on the gates, which remain well defended.

Shrett casts Mobility on all of you, and with that and your lack of armour you’re moving swiftly across town. You pass by the central plaza and can see pitched battles and fires there. That bathhouse where Fraud saw a suicidal woman is entirely aflame. Further across town, you come to seven more maniacal citizens, armed with various simple weapons, pitching torches into a house’s doorway. The entryway is blocked with broken chairs and a table, with which they obviously aim to set light to the home. People inside are screaming as smoke pours in. You’re not letting this go; there are innocents in danger. The insane citizens put up a distracted offense as you close with them, at first being more interested in burning, and they fight you with improvised weapons and daggers, but they are no soldiers and show no concern for their own lives. So one by one you hew them down; only Fraud shows mercy and goes for knock-out blows.

However, this turns to be a distraction. Behind you, from a rooftop, a seething ray of bubbling energy courses down and strikes Bog in the bum. He almost falls from this grievous wound, but Shrett heals him. You turn about and can’t see a foe, but Bog casts Detect Enemy and does find someone there on a two-storey roof. You close in. His Detect Enemy is neutralised. The figure on the rooftop has prepared as you rushed, and hurls more blasts, this time at everyone. Fraud takes a modest wound but Bog this time takes the corrosive magic right in the belly, staggers, and in a half-daze manages to stay on his feet. Everyone but Shrett rushes into the building and starts climbing stairs up. Shrett hurls a dagger but it bounces off the figure and clatters down. The figure casts a fearful spell at Shrett but this doesn’t work. Then, as Shrett calls for you to run back down and you turn about, the figure leaps gracefully to the ground and engages Shrett, staying out of view of the doorway. It wears ornate bronze armour under a violet cloak, and soon he sees that where is left arm should be is replaced by a sickly mauve tentacle. Its face is covered by a grimacing, horned demonic mask and it wields a wicked, glowing long-dagger. Shrett avoids a nasty blow and it defends itself with nimble dodging, then Shrett disarms it, but it draws forth a second glowing dagger. Fraud manages to rush the door but can’t get through, blocking it, until Shrett makes space and Fraud emerges, engaging the assassin. Now odds have turned, and Boamund is close behind. Strangely, the foe takes a few hits but doesn’t seem hurt; then finally ?Fraud slashes its mask off, exposing the deformed face which is of unrecognisable gender or even species. It falls, and you ensure it is dead. You take away its presumably cursed daggers, which bear hilts shaped like evil faces.

You cross town and finally approach Grimoald’s manor. There, you see a frightening scene. Eight more crazed, armed townspeople with twisted features are gathered around a wagon filled with amphorae of lamp oil, chanting (in Safelstran) “Bare ruined choirs, where late the proud lions sang!”, led by a horribly tentacle, robed priest whose flesh seems made of wriggling worms, and wears another grotesque mask. Oh no, the Purple Sonnet again! Fraud tries to suppress the verse welling up inside him, and the Ebon Sanctuary keeps it from taking him over entirely, but he can only watch and grin gleefully at the carnage. The manor’s gates have been thrown open, the doors smashed in and the grounds in disarray, with several bodies strewn about. You see that there is movement inside; guards, who seem to have held the entrance so far. The mob doesn’t pay you heed immediately, although the priest turns its attention as Boamund lights his Fireblade. Bog vanishes under Darkwalk and uses Shield, and Shrett follows with his Conceal spell. The mob turns to you, two by two, as Boamund closes; followed by the others. The priest tosses a ball of magical worms at Boamund but they bounce harmlessly off him instead of gripping firm. Boamund manages to cut one warped madman down easily, and Bog gets around the priest to appear with his trademark “ZORAK ZORAAAN!!” battle cry, bashing his head. Shrett comes in, too, and the priest is felled with another blow to the head. You make short work of the remaining mob. Fraud regains his reason once it is done, but he is shaken. It has been so long since he felt this terror of the Purple Sonnet. He thought it might have ended. But now, it is here, plaguing central Ralios!

The inside of the manor is safe; just servants and guards holding onto what is left; they are battered and bloody. They welcome you in. (in Safelstran) “We saw the first fires and heard the first screams just after dark. We secured the manor but the mob came too quickly, from all directions, just erupting out of the city like maggots from a corpse! They bayed for children and fortunately there were none here. There was a woman with them that was different. She wore a grotesque silver mask and a robe. She rode some dreadful beast. Then a winged monster appeared. It was huge and shadowed in the night, but it grabbed some children out in the streets, scooping them up in claws and then flapping off into the night with a roar. It all happened so fast, and while the mob was attacking, that we’re still not sure what we saw, but the woman had ridden off with great haste toward the arena.” A guard leads you to the treasury and you hurriedly gear back up. There’s no way you’re going to that arena unarmoured, even though time is precious. You ensure you’re all healed. Fraud does a spectacular job patching up Bog’s bad injury.

You go down through the eastern edge of town on the street following the walls, and make it to the main eastern gate, which remains held by soldiers, but they’ve put up quite a fight here. A huge armed mob (easily two dozen) approaches slowly, and you wait for them and then flank from the sides as they come to the gates. It’s an easy fight again, and most of you do good work saving the lives of guards and others, although Shrett gets caught by a lucky blow and is wounded.

You exit Carbo and head for the arena. It seems there aren’t so many fires on the eastern side. Then there is a scream of terror from above. From out of the inky night, at first it seems that a child is flying of his own accord well overhead, but then you see the dark form clutching him as he flails about frantically. It matches the night with midnight-black fur, has huge wings, giant fanged jaws, great horns, long claws and a barbed tail. It tilts its head down to inspect you with its blazing green eyes… Shrett screams in terror, turns and runs back for the manor. Boamund looks it straight in the evil eyes, unafraid. He’s ready to cut down a demon. The demonic thing flies off toward the arena. You are about to move on without Shrett when he spins around, regaining his wits (Party Luck pts down to 0), so you carry on. Shrett now casts St Avlor’s blessing, in case more fear-inducing things face you. (and they soon do!)

As you approach the arena, you see that the road is clear of people and the arena is not in flames. There is plenty of debris and corpses between it and the town walls. The arena’s gates are open with something scrawled in Safelstran above the main gate (“To laugh so well, know all must cease ere long.” – Fraud unfortunately can’t help but read it, although this time he is braced for the Purple Sonnet. There are some corpses around the gates. There is no light from within. You go in and quickly enter the arena’s open space. Blood, debris and corpses litter the arena’s floor, stairs and benches. There is more graffiti in blood but it is brief and raving nonsense, or simply Chaos and Illusion runes, and you avoid trying to read anything. There is a wooden stage at one end of the arena that bears a pile of corpses. It also bears a few very frightened children, huddled together. At the other end of the arena, there is ornate boxlike structure that looks like it is intended to house nobility in audience, as a suite or viewing box. Its windows are covered in dark drapes.

And… there are monsters about. Bad ones. The black winged thing is there by the stage, and another, bright red one is there too, and Fraud and Boamund stiffen as they realise what you face. These are Fiends of Cacodemon; amongst the worst that Chaos can bring to Glorantha. One of them almost killed you all on the island of Gothalos where the Purple Prophets had a hidden fortress. That was long ago, but to face two Fiends is most unwelcome. And there is the many-legged thing mentioned as a steed of a masked woman who had come to the manor. It is a vile pinkish-green, batlike horror with eight sucker-footed limbs and drooling jaws, lacking eyes and making sinister hungry squeaks. The monstrosities turn to you…

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