Session 35 Report

General Summary

Swift Sail's Log

The two hours after our encounter with the spirits of the haunted chateau gave us time to explore the single illuminated room that we’d cleared while Cher regained her shadow. The hat we found was an apparent hat of disguise and reminded the party of that Buckback fellow they’ve been on about since before I met up with this group, and everyone seemed to think this was a sign that he’d been here. The ledger showed a log of transactions, various sales and such all inscribed with the initials ‘W.H.’, which didn’t ring a bell for anyone. The books around us were botany books, various methods and techniques, different forms of plant growing, as well as books on laws of various surrounding towns and cities, all of which coincidentally bookmarked to sections on their drug laws… At this point nothing really clicked other than everyone assuming this was the work of Buckback, perhaps because he’s the only criminal I think this lot has ever met, but everyone was in agreement that maybe this would be worth revisiting after our Aetherstone journey with Mrs. Kafe. For the time being we were content on taking the hat, ledger, and I’d even taken a random book for souvenir’s sake, it’d be nice to build up a little collection like I had in me old cabin on the ship… However when we were set to leave, more spirits arose to accost us, the book and ledger were stolen off of my person while the hat was snatched away from Cher. It was extremely curious to think the shadows wouldn’t allow us to take the objects, we all assumed it was part of the haunt, of course knowing what we know now, it’s almost silly we didn’t make the connection sooner. We continued back into camp, finding a large crowd of ponies who were watching us, utterly bewildered by our heroism and bravery, the impression I left was apparent on their dopey faces. From them we were able to find out that Weed Horse wasn’t just the name of the camp, but the name of a pony! A pony of legend—among this crowd at least. We were informed the chateau belonged to this Weed Horse, and that Miss Potts would have even more information. We first turned back to the ship for a long and relaxing evening to give time for the rest of the pots to be made. We spent the night on the ship, recovering further from our stint in the chateau as well as allowing some of the party the chance to indulge in the wares of the camp. Not exactly my cup of the sea, content so share a drink with Cher while the rest of the party locked themselves in a haze-filled evening in one of the rooms and had a wide range of nonsensical conversations. Fireheart continued her ongoing conversation with Ms. Kafe and we slept through the night as best we could through the onslaught of giddy, unfocused laughter. The morning came and Mrs. Kafe served as the wakeup call for the crew, I could hear her scolding the lot for letting Moon Planter get especially blazed—that surprising me as I hadn’t expected him to ever let himself relax that much. Cher and I played cards as we waited for everyone to get their wits about themselves and Fireheart pouted over having a 5 minute break without talking to Kafe. Ready to visit Miss Potts as we were, Tangent was oddly willing, with no hesitation to put on a white hood with two eye holes and robe to completely hide herself. I couldn’t say anything, I had to stay back and keep myself from laughing. As much as she can get under my fur, Cher’s sense of humor has some funny moments I can appreciate. We continued on with odd looks cast to Tangent and began to gather our pots from Miss Potts while inquiring about the Chateau and Weed Horse, the mare saying she knew nothing about the haunt while revealing her infatuation with who she considered a hubby, the blush rolling off her cheeks as she gawked at the thought of the stallion. She insisted he’s a very real pony who visits often, making a note to not be fooled by the plants in her garden, even giving a snarl and speaking as though they had done her wrong in some way. It was quite odd, though I suppose you can’t expect everything that ponies in this camp say would make perfect sense. Moon Planter surmised goblins. Tangent was steadfast in assuring Moon Planter we were talking about plants and to pay better attention. We learned that Weed Horse built the chateau by his own hooves and was the first pony in Camp Weedhorse, that makes enough sense, and the Fayleaf he grew attracted ponies to the settlement. We continued to inquire about his business dealings, the ponies he knew, and if she knew of Buckback at all, to which she was started to skirt details and was reluctant to share specifics, acting vague on what went on. Furthermore she was firm about us not going back to visit his chateau and her view of the Bannermanes seems to have been influenced by Weed Horse. A lot of her thoughts and feelings seem to be influenced by this stallion. We gathered our pots and were on our way. On the ship we started mapping out our journey, keeping in mind Mrs. Kafe’s speed and energy, knowing we need to make a stopover Bleakburn to drop off the carpenters and go back down to then go around the bay—it’s looking to be a lengthy journey. And no further in than the first night into our journey did we run into a detour. While Mrs. Kafe was resting, Moon Planter spotted a small group of goblins listening to an apparent leader on a soap box, from there his grand obsession and curiosity drew the whole party with mixed levels of interest to the site as Moon Planter was eager to speak with them. They were not as eager, and came charging out of their fortress, squealing and squabbling about wanting to capture Ord! Their numbers were greater than ours, and death by a thousand cuts started to take shape. Every one of us had our hooves completely full, we couldn’t even keep Cher or Tangent safe though Moon Planter took the absolute brunt of it as he willingly threw himself into the thick of things. He fell in an attempt to reach the leader, and was being dragged into the fort. Ord and I were almost down right after him, and my attempt to hold the leader hostage with a threat bore no results. I could feel the energy slipping away, knowing I didn’t have much chance if I ran, I decided to take a set of ferocious stabs at the leader, slicing at his joints, getting him off balance to expose a flaw in his stance, then stabbed right through his chest to finish him off. All the goblins froze in that moment, shock overcoming them. I looked at Ord who was about to stomp the head of one of the goblins in a fit of well justified rage, but I strongly encouraged her not to, she thankfully didn’t. The goblins then put their attention back on me, chants of ‘New Boss!’ began to ring through the small clearing. The tribe of goblins starting to look up to me as so many other creatures do. I got right to work ordering them to fix up the Bannermanes, and with the help of translation we were filled in on some rather interesting details. The goblins claim that the Weed Horse the camp and Miss Potts know is an impostor, apparently there is a blue pony who comes through the forest and impersonate Weed Horse who we were told is dead. They have attempted to scare him off and protect Miss Potts, even previously having been friends with Miss Potts before this impostor misled her. This new information combined with what we found at the chateau—the hat of disguise, the ledger, the haunt, it all made perfect sense. I’m now fully assuming the haunt is a spell of his own doing to keep his secrets hidden. Suddenly the Bannermanes have had a proper mystery thrust upon them! But we still have other priorities… as far as we know, the impostor is expected to return in about 4 days from now, the last chance for probably another 3 weeks to see him.   We’re now left with a number of considerations for tomorrow… 4 days until this impostor is expected to stroll through, Mrs. Kafe is fine to head off for her cave and get started gathering her things and wait up for us. We’ll spend the night considering our next move…  

Shabaka's Log

There is truly more than meets the eye at Camp Weedhorse, for under layers of hemp smoke and the weed-riddled populace hangs strings of mystery that was purposefully kept under wraps until now. Though we have decided to forgo pursuing further into the ruined chateau that is currently home to malicious beings of the shadows, we opted to look around the room we were residing to kill time waiting for Cher’s shadow be returned to her. Doing so we made some rather interesting discoveries. Our 1st item of interest was a stylish hat similar to Buckback’s and features the ability to disguise those who wears it. We also identified a ledger that contains individual transactions of Feyleaf with various buyers, including an entity’s initial spelled as “WH”, which we had no idea who this could be. The information inside dates back over 60 years ago, so the reports jotted down is likely all but void of any usual use. The creature likely dabbled in politics surrounding plant-based substances as he had a collection of books containing studies of various flora and laws from surrounding towns’ drug laws. Once we have scouted every nook and cranny of the dingy library and Cher has fully recovered her shadow, we decided to retire from the mansion with a quickness, especially Tangent who way ahead of us and was as gone as our focus on Aetherstone, which is weirdly on the backburner a lot. This was short lived as the chateau went lockdown mode and attempt another beatdown on us, likely because we tried to seize what is not ours. No matter as Ord with her thiccness once again bullied another door off its hinges, giving the rest of us a chance of escape. Despite us escaping the possessed, ruined building, a rather stealthy shadow emptied Cher of everything she has taken out of its domain, leaving us empty-handed for our troubles. Fucking dark things. With the spooks behind us we met more of the potheads, one of which exclaimed his amazement of us being able to even get close to the dump as there is a profound sense of dread hanging around it. During the conversation Cher brings up the name “WH” and asks the fellow pony if he has any knowledge of what that could mean, which he tells us that the only guy he knows that can possibly be is Mr. Weedhorse. How subtle. He carries on with his explanation to tells us he is still alive and hangs out with Ms. Pot often. Though we would prefer to discuss the matter with the Feyleaf dealer, it is seeming that she is not in the mood as the pothead lays it out to, specifically to Tangent. Yet his firm confirmation of Mr. Weedhorse’s attendance in Camp Weedhorse, he nor the rest of these Feyleaf abusers never seen the pony for themselves, which is pretty odd. We decided to put the rest of today on our haunches as we took a rest after our discussion with the few residents in Weedhorse so we can give the Purrsian hag time to calm her nerves with the power of natural herbs, a call I will say for a hag of her caliber will make every moment of your life hell if feasible. Funnily enough Ord and Moon Planter decided to toke on some weed as well to shed the night away. Tangent had a rather unique way to reach her high, via the secondhand method. She is a really “exceptional” cat to say the least. Reluctant as I was to have that fire starter crushing my eardrums with her nauseating blathering, I was relieved to have found that Fireheart was taking the punishment with a shit-eating grin plastered on her mug, discouraging anyone that would interrupt their affair with hoof motions. Well lucky for her I do not care to associate with her love interest so we both win on that front. The night would of went smoothly if I did not catch the chattering of my stoned companions talking complete hogwash about numbers. Though I was itching to correct them on their pathetic excuse of explanations about numbers, I assured myself that such talk will only last as long as they are under the influence, therefore making it pointless to even try. I relocated to my sleeping quarters and proceeded to catch some Z’s. The winged annoyance decided to interrupt my slumber, yapping about someone smoking their brains about in less than a respectable fashion. Good thing I am not on receiving end of her tirade. It seems to have been Moon Planter who responsibility smoked himself into a state of addiction. Such things are easily fixable with something called “magic”. I do not see why that lizard idolizer is so transfixed with that doggone dragon she can take my place if I receive any more attention from the lizard. Before we presume upon our task to gather pots, it was fundamental to keep Tangent as discreet as possible from the pot maker’s ire gaze so that our arrangement can be accomplished with the minimal errors. Cher, thinking that this matter is just one big joke, opted out of casting a disguise spell on Tangent simply gave our feline companion a cloak. Great. This will fool that spiteful witch. Tangent must not know what disasters a hag can cause as she allowed Cher to convince her to take the lead. I had to question Cher’s motives after that horrendous suggestion. We should count our blessings that nothing has blown up yet as we have received the pots in a timely fashion. Swift proceeded to inquire answers about the collapsed chateau and Mr. Weedhorse, who she is rather affectionate about. After answering a few questions regarding whether or not this Mr. Weedhorse exist, which she vigilantly certifies to be so and strangely points out that the plants are not to be trusted. This crazed druggy could be simply off her rocker, but such traits are common in hags, which worries me a little about this whole Mr. Weedhorse situation. She asserts that she is really old and has helped Mr. Weedhorse with the creation of the chateau and the research and production on the botany of these plants. As the questioning continued, Swift made sure to step on her hooves really good by admitting that we invaded the mansion, making her incredibly furious, it only made things worse that the oblivious Pegasus “insulted” the chateau in her face. Smartly he quickly made a 180 and apologized for our actions. Though she had her paws in the establishment’s formation, she had no clue of any haunts residing in it. She cut off the stream of info, calling us narks and disclosed to us that she was warned by this Weedhorse guy about the Bannermanes, especially those with the bird on the pin. She soon displayed her displeasure with us sharply and told us to buck off, which we did hastily. We began to prepare our departure when Moon Planter suggested a detour to check out some hideout of those feral creatures. While I thought of it as a nothingburger, I was not totally against the idea as I relished that this diversion would delay me from having to come into contact with another one of these space-wasting mouth breathers, and I can another round of naps. But before going to dreamland I delved into my psyche to ponder about the situation of Camp Weedhorse and the strangeness of it all. How this “Weedhorse” knew specifically which Bannermane faction to watch out for, Ms. Pot’s aggressiveness towards a bunch of her plants, and how they lie, how no one in Weedhorse but her has even seen this mysterious figure, and the possibility that there is more to decipher here than we are being led to believe. During my introspection sudden rings of metal clanging against one another and screams of agony swam into my consciousness, taking me out of my deep dive. Whatever that was it cannot be good.

Character(s) interacted with

The Big Rock Gobbos