Episode 15: Gloamwood
General Summary
The adventurers began the session by searching through the wreckage, stumbling upon a vast hold of art pieces, each worth their weight in gold, and a few spell scrolls. As they travelled through the wreckage towards the spire in the distance, it began to snow. As they pressed further on, the snow became heavier and heavier, until the storm became nearly too much to travel through, but it suddenly cleared, and the adventurers found themselves standing in the entryway of Mab's palace.
Lady Maeve stood in front of the party. "Our humble heroes return. How was your tussle in the dirt? Did you meet some new friends? Release any powerful, unknowable entities?"
S̴͓̥̜̬̦͛ͧͫ̓͜͠i̶̯̻͎͚͌ͣ̀͟ͅl̞̲̬̃e͙̪̟̱͔͚̠ͪ́͢͝n̋ͯ̀̾͒̊ͣ̄͝͏͕̦̟̣̘̝̀ͅt̖̭͊̇̓͂̊l̮̣̫̐ͫ͝͞y̻̪̩̗̰͚͔ͨͩ͘͠,͕̩͇ͬ̌́͜ ͚̹̤ͩͥͥ̚y̍͌̽̍͏͇̪̮͕̝͚̠oͥͨ͌͏̡̻̙ů̷̪̥̖̰͑̋̋͌̓ ̰̝͔͓̲͑ͯs̰ͥͤ̓͢͟͝ẗ̷̛̩̙̳͈̞̪͙̞̙ͪ͂ͫ͑̕a̧̰ͧ̓̀͢l̖͍͕̗̣̯ͩͨͨ͊̅ͨͭ͌k̢̈́ͭͫ͋ͭ̎͏̬͖̦̟͈͕̜̗ȅ̼͖͍̩̫̻̀d͂͞͏͖̦͎͈̲̙͓̩ ̢̪͖ͫ̈́̄̋̾a̺̯͔ͤ͋͋n̙͔̰̂̉c͚̟͕̻͔̺͇̲̻͗ͦ͌͑ͨͨ̐̈́́í̜͇̜̠̖̙͔̬̦̉͐̓͡e̱̺̱̹͔̅͢͠n̤̼͕̤̮̓̿́̅̊͑͌t̶̨̼ͦ̑ͬ̾͋̊͗ ̜̝̫͎̪̭̝̩́͌̚ͅA̦͔̣̙͇͈̜͔̐̅ͥ̚̕͘r̅҉̭̙͇͍c̶̢̣̙̺̯̭͇ͫ̂h̵̙̤̮͑̚͢ȉ̶̷̦̹̲̯̠̬̂͛̚͜vͧ̎̅̌̋҉̻̯͚̳͚͔̜́ĕ̟̻̫̟̲̟̞̰̮̈́̈͛͠͞s͗̒̌ͥ̅͏̥͉̤͔͍̝͕̥ ̴̴̺̏̊̐̿̉̽̚ͅ
This was met with grumbles. She then beckoned for the party to follow, leading them through the grand hall where there were now a brigade of winter eladrin examining arcane charts. Beyond them, the Winter Queen was seated upon her throne, up a grand staircase which appears to end at the far side of the room, but by some optical illusion Mab appears to remain medium sized. She stands, and walks towards the adventurers, remaining the same size until she stands before them.
"Hello heroes. Enjoying your cage-free adventuring style?"
The party congratulated her on her new territory, asking what she was going to name it. Charles was snide, and made some suggestions which ended with his tongue frozen in place. The Ice Queen had settled on Astronomea as a name.
"Walk with me"
She confidently walked through the party and back out the door. Following her, the party found themselves at the top of the Spire. From here, they can see the entire Rose Protectorate, from the shores of the North Sea to the first trees of Arborea and the Gloamwood.
"Tell me, heroes, what do you know of the Nine?" she asked. "Mortals offer prayers to them, the Dread Powers fear them, but what do any of us truly know of their wills?
A̵̢̤̻̬͈͌̈͐ͬͥͮ̔̀ ̖ͫ̊b̞̰͚̘͍̠͑̈́̄̇̒̈̀͞ó̷̾҉͉̲͔̣̩u̶̹͖̼͋͂̏̈́ͫͩ͘n̹͎͍̫̄͆̿͂͑ͦ͗ͣͭ́͜ḑ͍͎͉͈̑̆͑̋̈́͘̕l̶̹̹͔͆̀ẹ̻͈̜ͦͨ̆͆̔̃ͥ̅̓̕͞s̡̈ͧͦ̃̈ͥ̔҉̞̬̬̥̭̥̝ş̶͖̩̰͖̯͔̜͔͉́ͪͩͨ̈̀͌ͦ ̼̺͍̟̱͕͔̔͒̊̅ͮ̄̀ͅh̡̗̥̳͎̦̤͓̩̄u̬̟̖̩͈͖̽͛̽ṋ̒́ͨ̋͋gͪ̈́ͬ͟҉̹͖͔̲̥̬̣ͅḙ̻̩̗̫̹͑̔̆ŗ̡̖̟̱̗̪͍͖̈́̒͌ͥ͐̉ͬ̆ͫ͡ ̴̵̟̙̇̈ͣ̊̋͐͝f͙͕̻͌̿o͉̭̲͈̤̭̖̯̓̌͛ͪr̵̪͖̖̱̼͎̎̍̽̏̿̂͝ ̧͍͔̹̓ͭķ̞͔̮̂ͩ̈̈́͠n̈̐͂ͧ̉҉͏̩͚̠̱̤̖̪͉ȍ̯̳̖ͤ͌ͨ̿̕͝w̆͊̿̈́͏̲̻̮̜̫ľ̙̺͉́̈ͤͦ̒e̶͈͇̥͕̟̝̠͗͂ͭd̼̭ͮ͒ͦ̾ͬ͆ͦͬ̓͞ͅg̘͓̻͂͆ͦ̆ͩẹ͚̥̟͔͎͇͂̎͊́̑
"We know they bestowed dreadful power upon Mortals during the Great War. We know the Tribunal judges the Dead. We know the Archivist Knows the dead. But what else do we know? How do we know the Bard truly inspires, or is it natural Mortal ingenuity? Does the Rider drive suffering, or is it an innate Mortal drive to tread upon their fellow man?
"There is a Serenity, there is a Hell. But what if the Great Lie of the universe is that souls never truly arrive at either destination, but are places into the Archives and only return with the narrative of a Heaven or Hell to suite the God's schemes?
"I ask you these things because you fight something you do not understand. You fight against a Prophesy that might not even exist. You struggle to find your own path when it has been beneath your feet this entire time. You fight the tides of Prophecy, but know not what it means. Who is to call upon its origin? From the children in the streets of Arcanus to the diplomats in the Halls of Amphiarus, every soul knows the Prophecies, but not a single one could point to their progenitor.
"If you are to believe in this Prophesy, you will find yourself bound to its words, trapped in their cycle. The world believes these words; some to zealous, Cataclysmic lengths. The one who controls the word controls the World, heroes.
"Find them out."
And in saying so her eyes began to glow a frosty blues as she raised her hands. She opened her palms, sending waves of frost rippling ow from the Spire, coating you in a layer of frost. When you thawed out, you were standing at the edge of the Rose Protectorate's border with Iravek and his caravan, similarly teleported out with you. A tremendous wall of sheer ice rose at the border. While hoping the best for those still trapped inside, the party continued.
The party travelled for several days before Iravek stopped them. "We are one days travel from the Gloamwood, and that means that I need to issue my warning. We are going to start running into some spooky shit. I just want to warn you of that. We are only one month from Samhain, and mere days from Halloween. We are approaching the Darkest point of the year, when the Darkness is at its strongest, especially in the Gloamwood. It's the last place it touched, and the tremors can still be felt.
"Again, I repeat, we are going to run into some spooky shit. I am saying this now because now is when it is going to start. It won't be too bad out here, just runaway hauntings that won't mean anything too harmful to our phyches, but once we pass that point, it is going to be rough. And I mean rough. You are going to hear and see things that are going to scar you."
At this point, the party noticed that the other goliaths have started to pull out heavier gear. Weathered leather armaments with wicked spikes sticking out at vital extremities designed to deter bites.
"This is my warning to you," Iravek continued. Don't look in the trees. Don't go out off the trail., If you see something in the trees, no you didn't. Don't look at them. Don't acknowledge them. If you hear something, if something is screaming, if you hear your name, no you didn't. If you hear footsteps, could be a deer, could be abear, could be something else.
"Turn away, look away, walk away.
"I will do my best to protect you, but here even I cannot make any promises. And if you break any of those rules, I will not risk my people to save you."
After this speech, Callisto tried to leave, citing that he is "...afraid of the Dark and feels like this is definitely not the place they should be." But, he was easily swayed by Valan and Tyra, as always.
L̸̹͈̻ͭͨͧ̆͌ͪu͚̼̦̘͔̠̤͙̫͑̽̉ͤ̾ͣr̡͚̗͍̒ͭ̈͡͡e͊̅͗͏͕̠͎̤̬̤̫͟d̙̤̟̰͚̒́̀ͧͤ̈́̐͞ ́ͩ͌͋͑̉͊̌͏̪̺͝y̘̗̦͔̐̒ͤ́̒̋ͪͤ͜ǫ̪̝͖̬͎͎ͥͤu̓͗ͭ͒̽͏͏̥̲̥͓̺̹̼̰̻ ̯̥͉̘̤̖͒̑ͪͦ̊̒͑ţ́̂ͯ͑͑̽̋ͩ҉̺̗̥͇͉̮o̞̝̙̤ͪ ̥͙̻ͩ̾̿͊͐̓͋t̨̗̜͖̪̩͚͛̌ͬ͝h̲̞̥ͪ̄̓͢ȇ̢͎̹͓̤̟̒̒̽͌̂ ͈̥̳͉͗̏̽ͥ̆͋̚͘D̲͙̯̎̀ͫ̑͆̄̕͝e̛̳͕͌̈́ͣͧͨ̃s̭͖̜̳͎ͯͦͭͩ͂͂̊̐̀͟͝ǫ͙̤ͮ͛̿̏̂͋l̛̥̗̬ͧ̂̊̾͞ͅa̍҉̡̣̲̲̬̬̲ţ̶̮̭͇̖̼͈̥̍̃î̷͍̙͓͕̻̰̜͙̌ͦ̽ͪo̷̗͓̖̍̈n̤͕̞̥̲̔̿̈̓ͤ
The first night, the party was chased by Pan and his yeth hounds. The hounds bayed at the group, following the party at an alarming speed. Pan ran in circles around them, riding a chariot crafted of human skeletons pulled by humans running on all fours which made an unholy wet slapping sound.
After a brief chase, which showed off Olette's distinct magical capabilities, Iravek guided the caravan to a lonely inn, pulling a wicked Tokyo Drift style slide to drop them at the front door where the party was ushered in by the unassuming bartender. Pan, pulling a similar drift in the slap-o-mobile, elongated his neck to wind down to the barkeeps level, as he stood blocking the door with his hearty frame.
"This is the Last Lonely House. You are not welcome and will not enter here," the defiant bartender said to the head of Pan, with glowing red eyes and wild hair encircling his horns.
While inside, they were introduced to the owners and patrons of the Last Lonely House. Beuford was their host and barkeep, supplying the party with every drink imaginable. Mama Hartford was the cook, offering freshly baked everything. The Gambler offered games of chance for an earnest buy in. The Drunk was passed out in the corner, and there was a farmer, Antonio, and his son Nico, staying the night.
Every dish was divine, the drinks got everyone all happily buzzed, and everything was on the house. Beuford filled the party in on the story of the Last Lonely House. It was the only remaining member of a line of inns that was established along the borders of the Gloamwood. The initial design of the Lonely Houses was to have them stand as a place for folks to stay before entering the Gloamwood so that they could have one night of full, undisturbed rest before venturing through the wood and enduring its Dark evils. However, one by one, the Houses fell, whether it be to folks leaving or evil overtaking them, one by one the hearths went out, until Beuford's inn became the Last.
It was a good night. Drinks were shared, stories were told, and the party felt safe.
In the morning, Mama Hartford made danishes which gave everyone temporary health points and inspiration, and sent the party on their way. Turning back, the adventurers saw what looked to be the decrepit, burnt-out structure of a forlorn in behind them where the Last Lonely House had stood.
"We don't know the story of the Last Lonely House," Iravek said. "But we are sure it's tragic., We believe the ghosts' there have unfinished business protecting the living from the dangers of the Gloamwood. We always stop there before we traverse it."
As they were entering the Wood, Iravek stopped the party again, and told the other goliaths to uncloak their "horses," revealing hulking, gray-skinned beasts with six yellow eyes and the build of an ape with the head of a giant wolf. Olette, seeing them, explained to the party that these were gray renders, rare war beasts of the wood elves of Arborea which are known for their loyal, if quirky, bonding personalities. Because of these quirks, they are generally not allowed within city limits.
Ḯ̶̝̯̳̩͇̳ͩͪ͑͡ͅm̵̜̭͉̜̪͋̉p̛̟̲͎ͧl̨̙͇̤͖̜͖̰̱ͨ͗ͪ̀͒̏̂̚ͅi͖̹͉͖͉͚͌͠c̵̶̪̱̊͛ͯ́ā͍͎̤͖̲̘̠̗ͦ̑ṱ̘̞̥̺̊ͤ̀̊̍̽̈̎͞͝i̱͇͚̞͉̺͎̋̾̔ͭn̹ͥg͐̏͑͛ͦͮ͏͏̹͚̱ ̡̘̻̝͎͓̘̠̂ͫ̊ͪ͛ţ͈̰̩ͭͣ̊͌ȟ̭̺̞̹̭̪̩̯̊̒ͩ̏̀e̪͓̝͖͙ͧ͑̄̇̔ͬ̾̌͘͞ ͍̣͕͉̭͕͇̰̈̋̍ͭ̀͛̆̔͗͝ȑ̵̰̫̰̰̟͙̝̾̉̏͘e̺͍̅͌̄ͯ́͜s̴̟͂̂̒͑̇ͩ̋͌́͡ṭ̸̟̼̞̽̓ͭ̋́͐̉ͅ ̮̭̘̲̔͋̒͢͟͝ơ̫̞͎ͯ̈̒ͣͮ͘͡f̡̀̎ͨ̓͋̓͛̌͟͏̬̱͉̣̬̲͉͉ ̟̘̗ͬ̽ȗ̜̩͙͓̖̮ͧ̄̇͐̒̎̋̃s̴̢̤͎̬̎̀̂͑ ̬̄͛ì̵͎̬̠͙͔̭͍͗̂̄ͩ͗̓̂͡n̢̄̐̆ͫ͏̮̺̞͇̤̹̟̦ ̲͓͚̻̺ͤ̄̉̓̀̚͠y̡̛̪͓̤̘͈̜̮̻̒͆͑͛o̧̭͎̲̗̥̞͗ͬ̿͐ͮ́̊̚͠u̡̹͉͎͉̯͉ͩ̽ͨ̈̔ͮ̄ͤr͙͓̮̖ͦͣ̌̐̎͠ ͙̻̜̓ͬ͂̄ͨ͘͜͝c̤̹̤̰̞̪͇͛̎͌́͝r̥̤͕̗̊̀͢i̸̢̘̘͔͖̹̒̐͠m̵̧̚҉͓̝͖e͔̫͓̞͓̾̀̕
One of the beasts was pregnant, as illustrated by the large nodules of flesh and muscle forming on it's back, almost like a matting in a cat's fur. Except gray renders don't have fur, and so it was all sinew. Tyra was the only one who took Iravek up on the offer of a baby render, gingerly removing one of the nodes. Whenever the party has a moment to rest, the fleshy, egg like node needs to be planted for a week and then a render will sprout.
Because of the numerous gray renders, monsters generally leave the caravan alone, so if the party were to have encountered anything in the forest that they couldn't handle, they could retreat to the caravan for safety.
On the second night, everyone felt watched. There was a sickening sense of unease that settled across the entire party as they circled the wagons. The Gloamwood, for what it's worth, is beautiful. The canopy that covers the sky above is filled with lightning bugs that convey an illusion of a starry sky, and everything is bathed in a dim light from the purple luminescent mushrooms that bloom from the base of every tree.
Iravek though this would be the perfect time for a cautionary tale about an adventurer whose features were stolen by a creature within the Gloamwood.
"Once, there was a monster that haunted these woods. A faceless creature who searched for an identity among lost wanderers. It is said that it is the lost soul of an adventurer wandered into the Gloamwood in search of a calling; no one would take them at the Adventurer’s guild because they had no niche to fill in an adventuring party.
"In the woods, the adventurer met an entity with a mirrored face. Through its face, the adventurer could see a multitude of worlds and realities unfurling in front of them.
The curious adventurer stood transfixed, drinking in the secrets of the universe, until lowly but surely, the entity consumed it’s being. It started with their. It took their memories. Every happy thought of home, every movement through the world, every single sword stroke, forgotten.
U̶̶̯̙͚̳̗ͦ́̄s̸̤͇͛͒ͪ͂u̬͙̙͍̬̔̉̈ͦr̥̙̜̰̞̠ͬ̽̂͊̏̿̃̇p̃̂͗͑̐̈́ͪ̉͗̀҉̥͇̜̳͔̤̦̩͜i̵͇̞̼̗̠͈͐ͧ̀ͅͅn͖̟̯̽̀ͦ̑ͨͨͨ̅͊̀ͅg̷̞̑̂̏́ ͎͚̬͇̀̏ͧ͒͊t͓͇͚̞̓̽ͥͧͨͣͬ͑̕͞h̩̙̯͇̫̉͐̍ͨ͜ͅe̯͉͕̗͒͋̀ͨ̀́ ̬̗͕̩̤̫͔̎̋̏ͅṛ͓̰͈ͨ̀͑ͤ̀͢͡o̱̺͖ͤ̿̀̈̍ͯ̐̚͢l̨̼̹ͨ͌̽̊͆̇͂ͣe̡͙̫̜͍̗̭ͮͬ̂͒͜͠ ̸̍̓̋̎̽̓͒͌͏̶̮o̥̼͙̭̬̱ͮ̄͒̋̑̔́̚f̬̱̬̤̼͇̭͕̀̈̄̆ͧ̊ͯͯ͋͢ ̭̝̰̔̽̀̚“̷͚̟͎̯͖̹̜̪̪̏̋̎͌ͬ͆̈́̏̀̚͟g̵ͭ͜͏̭̲͚̳͚ō̉ͯ̆ͯ̋҉̮͙͉̤̮͉̯͈d̔̆ͯͨͮ̋͏̵ͅ”̛̝͕̟̳͇̉̉̆͗̐̔̉ͫ̀͠ͅ
"Then, it took their attributes, the strength from their limbs, the fleet from their feet.
"Then, it took their features. It obscured their perfect skin with obscured flesh, shifting and morphing, never able to be defined, lacking all color.
"And finally, it took their eyes. The portal through which they saw the world, rendering them a victim of their circumstance. Doomed to wander the Gloamwood in search of a friend with whom they could trade traits." When asked if this was supposed to cheer them up, Iravek said no, it was supposed to warn them.
It was here the party met a new and unexpected friend. An aarakocra by the name of Pharos, who initially assaulted the party with stones for entering his territory and disturbing his nest, which held two eggs. But, after speaking with them for a time, Pharos admitted that his eggs had gone missing, and he was wondered if maybe he could tag along with the party for a time and they could lend a hand in his search, to which they party graciously accepted, and welcomed Pharos. Pharos himself is a little disheveled, missing patches of feathers, and a few nuts in his mind.
The next few nights were uneventful, with only minor disturbances from fires in the distance that went unacknowledged and a prying set of hands which haunted Valan's nights on watch.
But on the Fouth Night, the trouble began. The party heard calls for help in the forest. Initially, it was thought that this was another illusion, but after the screams of four were reduced to three, and Pharos admitted he had seen another cart pass his nest a few days prior, Charles went to investigate. The others asked if he needed backup, but he said that he should be alright, and he would phone via the telepathic group chat if he needed help.
Upon approach, he found a Remnant attacking a family of Protectorate Refugees. This Remnant was unlike the others, and bleed strings of dark ichor from every orifice. It was infected with the Dark Blight.
The initial fight was brief. Charles ran in, attacked the blighted creature, and was swiftly met with a blast of tendrils which rendered him unconscious and infected him with the Dark Blight.
The rest of the party, feeling his connection to the telepathic group chat sever, ran to help. As they approached, more Remnants appeared out of the forest. In the first turn of combat, Jules, the Bedlabot, fired Melody, the Divine Armament of the Bedlamite, for the first time and critically failed on his attack, activating its Wild Magic Surge and casting a Meteor Swarm. The fire-themed table dictated that whatever fire damage of the spell cast was maximized, and the Bedlabot vaporized the remnants but threw balls of fire throughout the rest of the Gloamwood, illuminating writhing tendrils of plant-flesh as it awoke.
S̵̞̜̮͍̜͎̹̬͌̏ͫ̌̂͆e̱̺̝͈̜͗͂͗͠͝͠n͔̗̳͔͔̤̆̓ͧ͒͗̀̚͠t̘͎̗̱̗̼̳͚̉̽ͦ̓̒͆͞e̴̶̳̳̞̱̱̼̰͇̓̌ͫ̑n̡̞̼̫̦̰͍̱̏̀͘c̟̟̺̠͖̐ï̭̙̯̟̱͎̳̠͂̐̆̌̎ͅn̮͍̤̩̫̦̳̆ͣͪ̔̎ͨͧͨ̕g̢̏̐̉̚̕͏͎̳͚̤̦͈̘ ̷͇͉̻̪̏͂̈́ͮ͠ͅu̮̥̝̟̞̰͑̉̔ͅs̖̪̺̮̠̪͈̬̉̀ͩ̀ ̛̪̓̓ͧͤ͛̊̊͢͞t̐̓̄̉́̎҉̨̝͓ǒ͚̹̘̻̂̏͊̈́͑ͪ̾͟͟ ̩͕̠̱̭͌ͥ́ä̸̘̩̯̬̹͓̞̠́ͩ͋̀͌̅̕w̝͇͖̄̅̌̎̚a̋ͫ̿ͮ̃̋͑̔͏̴̤i͗͑̓ͥ͏͔̭͍̲̺̘ẗ̺̼̜̗̻̬́ͫ ̸̜͕̤̭͎̱̙̓͜͡t̴̲̮̼̪̹̙̂̄̾͗́ͅͅh̟̥̓ͮ͂ͥͩ͡͝e̹̰͖̣͌̎ͫ͠ͅ ̡̢̗̥̻̯̖̱͕ͦ̈́P͖̦͔̠̲͑̍͘r̴͉ͪỏ̙̠̝̤̼͍̗ͪͥ̃ͣ͘͢͡p͙ͥͪ̈́͋ͣ͐̓̿̓ḥ̫̲͈̖͍͙̬̼ͨ́̓ͬ̈́ͥe̢͔̪̟̖͋̉̓̇́̿͞c̴̦̭̻̽̒̄̋ͬ̕͟y̵̛͇̪̥̯̺͉̱̮̏͒͞
Boy, I didn't realize it until I recapped it, but that is one busy episode. Welcome, Pharos. I hope you find your eggs.
Lady Maeve stood in front of the party. "Our humble heroes return. How was your tussle in the dirt? Did you meet some new friends? Release any powerful, unknowable entities?"
S̴͓̥̜̬̦͛ͧͫ̓͜͠i̶̯̻͎͚͌ͣ̀͟ͅl̞̲̬̃e͙̪̟̱͔͚̠ͪ́͢͝n̋ͯ̀̾͒̊ͣ̄͝͏͕̦̟̣̘̝̀ͅt̖̭͊̇̓͂̊l̮̣̫̐ͫ͝͞y̻̪̩̗̰͚͔ͨͩ͘͠,͕̩͇ͬ̌́͜ ͚̹̤ͩͥͥ̚y̍͌̽̍͏͇̪̮͕̝͚̠oͥͨ͌͏̡̻̙ů̷̪̥̖̰͑̋̋͌̓ ̰̝͔͓̲͑ͯs̰ͥͤ̓͢͟͝ẗ̷̛̩̙̳͈̞̪͙̞̙ͪ͂ͫ͑̕a̧̰ͧ̓̀͢l̖͍͕̗̣̯ͩͨͨ͊̅ͨͭ͌k̢̈́ͭͫ͋ͭ̎͏̬͖̦̟͈͕̜̗ȅ̼͖͍̩̫̻̀d͂͞͏͖̦͎͈̲̙͓̩ ̢̪͖ͫ̈́̄̋̾a̺̯͔ͤ͋͋n̙͔̰̂̉c͚̟͕̻͔̺͇̲̻͗ͦ͌͑ͨͨ̐̈́́í̜͇̜̠̖̙͔̬̦̉͐̓͡e̱̺̱̹͔̅͢͠n̤̼͕̤̮̓̿́̅̊͑͌t̶̨̼ͦ̑ͬ̾͋̊͗ ̜̝̫͎̪̭̝̩́͌̚ͅA̦͔̣̙͇͈̜͔̐̅ͥ̚̕͘r̅҉̭̙͇͍c̶̢̣̙̺̯̭͇ͫ̂h̵̙̤̮͑̚͢ȉ̶̷̦̹̲̯̠̬̂͛̚͜vͧ̎̅̌̋҉̻̯͚̳͚͔̜́ĕ̟̻̫̟̲̟̞̰̮̈́̈͛͠͞s͗̒̌ͥ̅͏̥͉̤͔͍̝͕̥ ̴̴̺̏̊̐̿̉̽̚ͅ
This was met with grumbles. She then beckoned for the party to follow, leading them through the grand hall where there were now a brigade of winter eladrin examining arcane charts. Beyond them, the Winter Queen was seated upon her throne, up a grand staircase which appears to end at the far side of the room, but by some optical illusion Mab appears to remain medium sized. She stands, and walks towards the adventurers, remaining the same size until she stands before them.
"Hello heroes. Enjoying your cage-free adventuring style?"
The party congratulated her on her new territory, asking what she was going to name it. Charles was snide, and made some suggestions which ended with his tongue frozen in place. The Ice Queen had settled on Astronomea as a name.
"Walk with me"
She confidently walked through the party and back out the door. Following her, the party found themselves at the top of the Spire. From here, they can see the entire Rose Protectorate, from the shores of the North Sea to the first trees of Arborea and the Gloamwood.
"Tell me, heroes, what do you know of the Nine?" she asked. "Mortals offer prayers to them, the Dread Powers fear them, but what do any of us truly know of their wills?
A̵̢̤̻̬͈͌̈͐ͬͥͮ̔̀ ̖ͫ̊b̞̰͚̘͍̠͑̈́̄̇̒̈̀͞ó̷̾҉͉̲͔̣̩u̶̹͖̼͋͂̏̈́ͫͩ͘n̹͎͍̫̄͆̿͂͑ͦ͗ͣͭ́͜ḑ͍͎͉͈̑̆͑̋̈́͘̕l̶̹̹͔͆̀ẹ̻͈̜ͦͨ̆͆̔̃ͥ̅̓̕͞s̡̈ͧͦ̃̈ͥ̔҉̞̬̬̥̭̥̝ş̶͖̩̰͖̯͔̜͔͉́ͪͩͨ̈̀͌ͦ ̼̺͍̟̱͕͔̔͒̊̅ͮ̄̀ͅh̡̗̥̳͎̦̤͓̩̄u̬̟̖̩͈͖̽͛̽ṋ̒́ͨ̋͋gͪ̈́ͬ͟҉̹͖͔̲̥̬̣ͅḙ̻̩̗̫̹͑̔̆ŗ̡̖̟̱̗̪͍͖̈́̒͌ͥ͐̉ͬ̆ͫ͡ ̴̵̟̙̇̈ͣ̊̋͐͝f͙͕̻͌̿o͉̭̲͈̤̭̖̯̓̌͛ͪr̵̪͖̖̱̼͎̎̍̽̏̿̂͝ ̧͍͔̹̓ͭķ̞͔̮̂ͩ̈̈́͠n̈̐͂ͧ̉҉͏̩͚̠̱̤̖̪͉ȍ̯̳̖ͤ͌ͨ̿̕͝w̆͊̿̈́͏̲̻̮̜̫ľ̙̺͉́̈ͤͦ̒e̶͈͇̥͕̟̝̠͗͂ͭd̼̭ͮ͒ͦ̾ͬ͆ͦͬ̓͞ͅg̘͓̻͂͆ͦ̆ͩẹ͚̥̟͔͎͇͂̎͊́̑
"We know they bestowed dreadful power upon Mortals during the Great War. We know the Tribunal judges the Dead. We know the Archivist Knows the dead. But what else do we know? How do we know the Bard truly inspires, or is it natural Mortal ingenuity? Does the Rider drive suffering, or is it an innate Mortal drive to tread upon their fellow man?
"There is a Serenity, there is a Hell. But what if the Great Lie of the universe is that souls never truly arrive at either destination, but are places into the Archives and only return with the narrative of a Heaven or Hell to suite the God's schemes?
"I ask you these things because you fight something you do not understand. You fight against a Prophesy that might not even exist. You struggle to find your own path when it has been beneath your feet this entire time. You fight the tides of Prophecy, but know not what it means. Who is to call upon its origin? From the children in the streets of Arcanus to the diplomats in the Halls of Amphiarus, every soul knows the Prophecies, but not a single one could point to their progenitor.
"If you are to believe in this Prophesy, you will find yourself bound to its words, trapped in their cycle. The world believes these words; some to zealous, Cataclysmic lengths. The one who controls the word controls the World, heroes.
"Find them out."
And in saying so her eyes began to glow a frosty blues as she raised her hands. She opened her palms, sending waves of frost rippling ow from the Spire, coating you in a layer of frost. When you thawed out, you were standing at the edge of the Rose Protectorate's border with Iravek and his caravan, similarly teleported out with you. A tremendous wall of sheer ice rose at the border. While hoping the best for those still trapped inside, the party continued.
The party travelled for several days before Iravek stopped them. "We are one days travel from the Gloamwood, and that means that I need to issue my warning. We are going to start running into some spooky shit. I just want to warn you of that. We are only one month from Samhain, and mere days from Halloween. We are approaching the Darkest point of the year, when the Darkness is at its strongest, especially in the Gloamwood. It's the last place it touched, and the tremors can still be felt.
"Again, I repeat, we are going to run into some spooky shit. I am saying this now because now is when it is going to start. It won't be too bad out here, just runaway hauntings that won't mean anything too harmful to our phyches, but once we pass that point, it is going to be rough. And I mean rough. You are going to hear and see things that are going to scar you."
At this point, the party noticed that the other goliaths have started to pull out heavier gear. Weathered leather armaments with wicked spikes sticking out at vital extremities designed to deter bites.
"This is my warning to you," Iravek continued. Don't look in the trees. Don't go out off the trail., If you see something in the trees, no you didn't. Don't look at them. Don't acknowledge them. If you hear something, if something is screaming, if you hear your name, no you didn't. If you hear footsteps, could be a deer, could be abear, could be something else.
"Turn away, look away, walk away.
"I will do my best to protect you, but here even I cannot make any promises. And if you break any of those rules, I will not risk my people to save you."
After this speech, Callisto tried to leave, citing that he is "...afraid of the Dark and feels like this is definitely not the place they should be." But, he was easily swayed by Valan and Tyra, as always.
L̸̹͈̻ͭͨͧ̆͌ͪu͚̼̦̘͔̠̤͙̫͑̽̉ͤ̾ͣr̡͚̗͍̒ͭ̈͡͡e͊̅͗͏͕̠͎̤̬̤̫͟d̙̤̟̰͚̒́̀ͧͤ̈́̐͞ ́ͩ͌͋͑̉͊̌͏̪̺͝y̘̗̦͔̐̒ͤ́̒̋ͪͤ͜ǫ̪̝͖̬͎͎ͥͤu̓͗ͭ͒̽͏͏̥̲̥͓̺̹̼̰̻ ̯̥͉̘̤̖͒̑ͪͦ̊̒͑ţ́̂ͯ͑͑̽̋ͩ҉̺̗̥͇͉̮o̞̝̙̤ͪ ̥͙̻ͩ̾̿͊͐̓͋t̨̗̜͖̪̩͚͛̌ͬ͝h̲̞̥ͪ̄̓͢ȇ̢͎̹͓̤̟̒̒̽͌̂ ͈̥̳͉͗̏̽ͥ̆͋̚͘D̲͙̯̎̀ͫ̑͆̄̕͝e̛̳͕͌̈́ͣͧͨ̃s̭͖̜̳͎ͯͦͭͩ͂͂̊̐̀͟͝ǫ͙̤ͮ͛̿̏̂͋l̛̥̗̬ͧ̂̊̾͞ͅa̍҉̡̣̲̲̬̬̲ţ̶̮̭͇̖̼͈̥̍̃î̷͍̙͓͕̻̰̜͙̌ͦ̽ͪo̷̗͓̖̍̈n̤͕̞̥̲̔̿̈̓ͤ
The first night, the party was chased by Pan and his yeth hounds. The hounds bayed at the group, following the party at an alarming speed. Pan ran in circles around them, riding a chariot crafted of human skeletons pulled by humans running on all fours which made an unholy wet slapping sound.
After a brief chase, which showed off Olette's distinct magical capabilities, Iravek guided the caravan to a lonely inn, pulling a wicked Tokyo Drift style slide to drop them at the front door where the party was ushered in by the unassuming bartender. Pan, pulling a similar drift in the slap-o-mobile, elongated his neck to wind down to the barkeeps level, as he stood blocking the door with his hearty frame.
"This is the Last Lonely House. You are not welcome and will not enter here," the defiant bartender said to the head of Pan, with glowing red eyes and wild hair encircling his horns.
While inside, they were introduced to the owners and patrons of the Last Lonely House. Beuford was their host and barkeep, supplying the party with every drink imaginable. Mama Hartford was the cook, offering freshly baked everything. The Gambler offered games of chance for an earnest buy in. The Drunk was passed out in the corner, and there was a farmer, Antonio, and his son Nico, staying the night.
Every dish was divine, the drinks got everyone all happily buzzed, and everything was on the house. Beuford filled the party in on the story of the Last Lonely House. It was the only remaining member of a line of inns that was established along the borders of the Gloamwood. The initial design of the Lonely Houses was to have them stand as a place for folks to stay before entering the Gloamwood so that they could have one night of full, undisturbed rest before venturing through the wood and enduring its Dark evils. However, one by one, the Houses fell, whether it be to folks leaving or evil overtaking them, one by one the hearths went out, until Beuford's inn became the Last.
It was a good night. Drinks were shared, stories were told, and the party felt safe.
In the morning, Mama Hartford made danishes which gave everyone temporary health points and inspiration, and sent the party on their way. Turning back, the adventurers saw what looked to be the decrepit, burnt-out structure of a forlorn in behind them where the Last Lonely House had stood.
"We don't know the story of the Last Lonely House," Iravek said. "But we are sure it's tragic., We believe the ghosts' there have unfinished business protecting the living from the dangers of the Gloamwood. We always stop there before we traverse it."
As they were entering the Wood, Iravek stopped the party again, and told the other goliaths to uncloak their "horses," revealing hulking, gray-skinned beasts with six yellow eyes and the build of an ape with the head of a giant wolf. Olette, seeing them, explained to the party that these were gray renders, rare war beasts of the wood elves of Arborea which are known for their loyal, if quirky, bonding personalities. Because of these quirks, they are generally not allowed within city limits.
Ḯ̶̝̯̳̩͇̳ͩͪ͑͡ͅm̵̜̭͉̜̪͋̉p̛̟̲͎ͧl̨̙͇̤͖̜͖̰̱ͨ͗ͪ̀͒̏̂̚ͅi͖̹͉͖͉͚͌͠c̵̶̪̱̊͛ͯ́ā͍͎̤͖̲̘̠̗ͦ̑ṱ̘̞̥̺̊ͤ̀̊̍̽̈̎͞͝i̱͇͚̞͉̺͎̋̾̔ͭn̹ͥg͐̏͑͛ͦͮ͏͏̹͚̱ ̡̘̻̝͎͓̘̠̂ͫ̊ͪ͛ţ͈̰̩ͭͣ̊͌ȟ̭̺̞̹̭̪̩̯̊̒ͩ̏̀e̪͓̝͖͙ͧ͑̄̇̔ͬ̾̌͘͞ ͍̣͕͉̭͕͇̰̈̋̍ͭ̀͛̆̔͗͝ȑ̵̰̫̰̰̟͙̝̾̉̏͘e̺͍̅͌̄ͯ́͜s̴̟͂̂̒͑̇ͩ̋͌́͡ṭ̸̟̼̞̽̓ͭ̋́͐̉ͅ ̮̭̘̲̔͋̒͢͟͝ơ̫̞͎ͯ̈̒ͣͮ͘͡f̡̀̎ͨ̓͋̓͛̌͟͏̬̱͉̣̬̲͉͉ ̟̘̗ͬ̽ȗ̜̩͙͓̖̮ͧ̄̇͐̒̎̋̃s̴̢̤͎̬̎̀̂͑ ̬̄͛ì̵͎̬̠͙͔̭͍͗̂̄ͩ͗̓̂͡n̢̄̐̆ͫ͏̮̺̞͇̤̹̟̦ ̲͓͚̻̺ͤ̄̉̓̀̚͠y̡̛̪͓̤̘͈̜̮̻̒͆͑͛o̧̭͎̲̗̥̞͗ͬ̿͐ͮ́̊̚͠u̡̹͉͎͉̯͉ͩ̽ͨ̈̔ͮ̄ͤr͙͓̮̖ͦͣ̌̐̎͠ ͙̻̜̓ͬ͂̄ͨ͘͜͝c̤̹̤̰̞̪͇͛̎͌́͝r̥̤͕̗̊̀͢i̸̢̘̘͔͖̹̒̐͠m̵̧̚҉͓̝͖e͔̫͓̞͓̾̀̕
One of the beasts was pregnant, as illustrated by the large nodules of flesh and muscle forming on it's back, almost like a matting in a cat's fur. Except gray renders don't have fur, and so it was all sinew. Tyra was the only one who took Iravek up on the offer of a baby render, gingerly removing one of the nodes. Whenever the party has a moment to rest, the fleshy, egg like node needs to be planted for a week and then a render will sprout.
Because of the numerous gray renders, monsters generally leave the caravan alone, so if the party were to have encountered anything in the forest that they couldn't handle, they could retreat to the caravan for safety.
On the second night, everyone felt watched. There was a sickening sense of unease that settled across the entire party as they circled the wagons. The Gloamwood, for what it's worth, is beautiful. The canopy that covers the sky above is filled with lightning bugs that convey an illusion of a starry sky, and everything is bathed in a dim light from the purple luminescent mushrooms that bloom from the base of every tree.
Iravek though this would be the perfect time for a cautionary tale about an adventurer whose features were stolen by a creature within the Gloamwood.
"Once, there was a monster that haunted these woods. A faceless creature who searched for an identity among lost wanderers. It is said that it is the lost soul of an adventurer wandered into the Gloamwood in search of a calling; no one would take them at the Adventurer’s guild because they had no niche to fill in an adventuring party.
"In the woods, the adventurer met an entity with a mirrored face. Through its face, the adventurer could see a multitude of worlds and realities unfurling in front of them.
The curious adventurer stood transfixed, drinking in the secrets of the universe, until lowly but surely, the entity consumed it’s being. It started with their. It took their memories. Every happy thought of home, every movement through the world, every single sword stroke, forgotten.
U̶̶̯̙͚̳̗ͦ́̄s̸̤͇͛͒ͪ͂u̬͙̙͍̬̔̉̈ͦr̥̙̜̰̞̠ͬ̽̂͊̏̿̃̇p̃̂͗͑̐̈́ͪ̉͗̀҉̥͇̜̳͔̤̦̩͜i̵͇̞̼̗̠͈͐ͧ̀ͅͅn͖̟̯̽̀ͦ̑ͨͨͨ̅͊̀ͅg̷̞̑̂̏́ ͎͚̬͇̀̏ͧ͒͊t͓͇͚̞̓̽ͥͧͨͣͬ͑̕͞h̩̙̯͇̫̉͐̍ͨ͜ͅe̯͉͕̗͒͋̀ͨ̀́ ̬̗͕̩̤̫͔̎̋̏ͅṛ͓̰͈ͨ̀͑ͤ̀͢͡o̱̺͖ͤ̿̀̈̍ͯ̐̚͢l̨̼̹ͨ͌̽̊͆̇͂ͣe̡͙̫̜͍̗̭ͮͬ̂͒͜͠ ̸̍̓̋̎̽̓͒͌͏̶̮o̥̼͙̭̬̱ͮ̄͒̋̑̔́̚f̬̱̬̤̼͇̭͕̀̈̄̆ͧ̊ͯͯ͋͢ ̭̝̰̔̽̀̚“̷͚̟͎̯͖̹̜̪̪̏̋̎͌ͬ͆̈́̏̀̚͟g̵ͭ͜͏̭̲͚̳͚ō̉ͯ̆ͯ̋҉̮͙͉̤̮͉̯͈d̔̆ͯͨͮ̋͏̵ͅ”̛̝͕̟̳͇̉̉̆͗̐̔̉ͫ̀͠ͅ
"Then, it took their attributes, the strength from their limbs, the fleet from their feet.
"Then, it took their features. It obscured their perfect skin with obscured flesh, shifting and morphing, never able to be defined, lacking all color.
"And finally, it took their eyes. The portal through which they saw the world, rendering them a victim of their circumstance. Doomed to wander the Gloamwood in search of a friend with whom they could trade traits." When asked if this was supposed to cheer them up, Iravek said no, it was supposed to warn them.
It was here the party met a new and unexpected friend. An aarakocra by the name of Pharos, who initially assaulted the party with stones for entering his territory and disturbing his nest, which held two eggs. But, after speaking with them for a time, Pharos admitted that his eggs had gone missing, and he was wondered if maybe he could tag along with the party for a time and they could lend a hand in his search, to which they party graciously accepted, and welcomed Pharos. Pharos himself is a little disheveled, missing patches of feathers, and a few nuts in his mind.
The next few nights were uneventful, with only minor disturbances from fires in the distance that went unacknowledged and a prying set of hands which haunted Valan's nights on watch.
But on the Fouth Night, the trouble began. The party heard calls for help in the forest. Initially, it was thought that this was another illusion, but after the screams of four were reduced to three, and Pharos admitted he had seen another cart pass his nest a few days prior, Charles went to investigate. The others asked if he needed backup, but he said that he should be alright, and he would phone via the telepathic group chat if he needed help.
Upon approach, he found a Remnant attacking a family of Protectorate Refugees. This Remnant was unlike the others, and bleed strings of dark ichor from every orifice. It was infected with the Dark Blight.
The initial fight was brief. Charles ran in, attacked the blighted creature, and was swiftly met with a blast of tendrils which rendered him unconscious and infected him with the Dark Blight.
The rest of the party, feeling his connection to the telepathic group chat sever, ran to help. As they approached, more Remnants appeared out of the forest. In the first turn of combat, Jules, the Bedlabot, fired Melody, the Divine Armament of the Bedlamite, for the first time and critically failed on his attack, activating its Wild Magic Surge and casting a Meteor Swarm. The fire-themed table dictated that whatever fire damage of the spell cast was maximized, and the Bedlabot vaporized the remnants but threw balls of fire throughout the rest of the Gloamwood, illuminating writhing tendrils of plant-flesh as it awoke.
S̵̞̜̮͍̜͎̹̬͌̏ͫ̌̂͆e̱̺̝͈̜͗͂͗͠͝͠n͔̗̳͔͔̤̆̓ͧ͒͗̀̚͠t̘͎̗̱̗̼̳͚̉̽ͦ̓̒͆͞e̴̶̳̳̞̱̱̼̰͇̓̌ͫ̑n̡̞̼̫̦̰͍̱̏̀͘c̟̟̺̠͖̐ï̭̙̯̟̱͎̳̠͂̐̆̌̎ͅn̮͍̤̩̫̦̳̆ͣͪ̔̎ͨͧͨ̕g̢̏̐̉̚̕͏͎̳͚̤̦͈̘ ̷͇͉̻̪̏͂̈́ͮ͠ͅu̮̥̝̟̞̰͑̉̔ͅs̖̪̺̮̠̪͈̬̉̀ͩ̀ ̛̪̓̓ͧͤ͛̊̊͢͞t̐̓̄̉́̎҉̨̝͓ǒ͚̹̘̻̂̏͊̈́͑ͪ̾͟͟ ̩͕̠̱̭͌ͥ́ä̸̘̩̯̬̹͓̞̠́ͩ͋̀͌̅̕w̝͇͖̄̅̌̎̚a̋ͫ̿ͮ̃̋͑̔͏̴̤i͗͑̓ͥ͏͔̭͍̲̺̘ẗ̺̼̜̗̻̬́ͫ ̸̜͕̤̭͎̱̙̓͜͡t̴̲̮̼̪̹̙̂̄̾͗́ͅͅh̟̥̓ͮ͂ͥͩ͡͝e̹̰͖̣͌̎ͫ͠ͅ ̡̢̗̥̻̯̖̱͕ͦ̈́P͖̦͔̠̲͑̍͘r̴͉ͪỏ̙̠̝̤̼͍̗ͪͥ̃ͣ͘͢͡p͙ͥͪ̈́͋ͣ͐̓̿̓ḥ̫̲͈̖͍͙̬̼ͨ́̓ͬ̈́ͥe̢͔̪̟̖͋̉̓̇́̿͞c̴̦̭̻̽̒̄̋ͬ̕͟y̵̛͇̪̥̯̺͉̱̮̏͒͞
Boy, I didn't realize it until I recapped it, but that is one busy episode. Welcome, Pharos. I hope you find your eggs.
Character(s) interacted with
Pan
The Ghost of the Lonely House
Pharos (welcome, Nathan. I hope you can get caught up)
The Ghost of the Lonely House
Pharos (welcome, Nathan. I hope you can get caught up)
Notes
For extra credit, can you tell me who the villain is? Here's a hint, you already know them. Right or wrong, I won't tell, but I will give enduring inspiration for a guess.
Report Date
23 Oct 2021
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