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Session 1 - The Harvestclose Tourney: That's One Big Cyclops

General Summary

Dahlek’s Tourney

Dahlek Harker, an Azmayne Human and ringmaster of the Harker-Zuulan Cavalcade of Festivities had a problem, he had several entrants for the Calvacade’s Annual Harvestclose Festival Tourney, but not enough teams. He would have to make some mutt groups, throwing together individuals into teams of four or five to face the more experienced teams. “I guess I’ll have to make a couple of mutt groups to round things out,” he said with a sigh, “hopefully they will give a few minutes of entertainment before the trained fighters take them out.” After making the first group, he was left with five more entrants:   “This is the craziest mutt group I’ve ever made. Maybe if I get a few barkers to promote their turn in the arena, I can sell people on the spectacle of seeing a water woman, a giant turtle, a tiny dragon and a couple half elves get their asses beaten,” he said, chuckling to himself.   With his work done, he left to inspect the traveling, loose dirt arena. The roustabouts had already moved several 20 foot tall stone columns into the center to break up the space and were busy staking down the surrounding wooden palisade and bleacher seating. Of even more importance to Dahlek was the anti-death field, powered by an arcane core and some incredible technology. He found an ant crawling on the ground, taking it in his hand, he walked into the center of the arena. He clenched his fist and then opened up, the ant, though obviously damaged, was still moving...with the field active, he couldn’t even kill a bug. Everything was falling into place.  

The Fight Begins

“Ladies and gentlemen, the fight you’ve been wanting to see all day! The Thri-kreen Tetrad take on our zaniest group yet! Watch in wonder and amazement as our four fearsome four-armed fighters do battle against a giant turtle, two half elves, a Pantano swamp druid and the WORLD’S TINIEST DRAAGOOOON!” Dahlek yelled, his voice amplified by a spell and his wand pressed to his throat. After announcing, he levitated out of the arena to take his seat and signalled to the staff to lift the arena gates.   The thri-kreen soon got entangled by the druid’s summoned vines and weeds, though not before launching their tchakas and hitting R’kir. Aliñar turned into a giant spider to even the tide of battle, and Krusk after healing R’kir, climbed atop her back, to cast spells and swing his mace from the back of his newfound friend. Wiliman attempted to use his Bardic ways to demoralize the Thri-kreen, but they seemed immune to his efforts to insult them. Pitri launched a barrage of fiery attacks, trying his best to live up to the newly bestowed title of dragon. Slowly, but surely, the tide of battle turned against the Thri-kreen, after their leader, a purple thri-kreen was dropped, the others swiftly lost their resolve to fight. The Thri-kreen went down, one by one, and the last was felled by Wiliman, who having noticed a young girl admiring him from the stands, tossed a wink her way and bowed with a flourish after dispatching the last foe.   With disbelief, Dahlek led the crowd in cheering the new ‘Mutt’ group, and rubbed his hands in anticipation. Whatever fluke that allowed this group to win would be no help against his two seasoned fighters and roustabouts, the ogres Gork and Mork. The five fighters had to steel their resolve as two ten-foot tall ogres charged into the arena. In the flurry of fiery magic, giant spiders, and martial arts Gork lifted his club and pointed it at Krusk, the Tortle cleric. Dodging spells and passing over the entangling weeds summoned by the Aliñar, he swung his club twice against the Tortle. Blue light glowed as the Tortle fell unconscious. Mork engaged Wiliman the bard, and Aliñar, now in the form of a giant spider. Pitri helped by casting spells and dodging the attacks of the ogres. In the heat of the battle, R’kir helped Krusk back up, feeding him a magical goodberry. Buoyed by the radiant spells of the Cleric the party surged forward, Pitri hurled a spell at Gork, dropping him to his knees in pain as fiery magic seared his groin. Wiliman and R’kir traded blows with Gork while Aliñar swooped in and out, biting with her powerful spider mandibles. Finally, Wiliman scored a ferocious hit on Gork, felling the giant ogre, who fell to the ground in a swirl of glowing blue arcane magic, it was clear the blow should have been fatal.  

Tiny

In dismay, Dahlek levitated again into the center of the ring. “Ladies and gentlemen, WHAT! A! FIGHT! Who could believe that this group of motley misfits would meet in melee and measure out more than the Mork and Gork could handle?!” he yelled. “And as the last group standing, you know what that means. It’s time for double or nothing on our thousand gold coin purse against the indomitable, the unconquerable, the inimitable Tiiiiiiiiiinyyyyyyy!!”   A roar emerged from the crowd, chanting “Tiny! Tiny! TINY! TINY!” louder and louder in excitement. The crowd knew what was coming, but the fighters of the “Mutt” group could only guess. Talking amongst themselves, they decided that-once Wiliman could use the bathroom- they would take on Tiny. Using the time to mend their wounds as best they could, the group cautiously planned how best to take on whatever or whoever Tiny was.   Dahlek couldn’t believe his fortune, the interest in this misfit band had filled the arena. He made Duke, the magician, levitate several benches and placed some stone columns under them just so he could sell more seats. And now, the group had taken the bait, no one had taken out Tiny in a fight. The Cavalcade would make a small fortune from the tickets and not have to pay out a grand prize. With a gleam in his eye, he once more levitated into the ring and announced the challengers, “Ladies and Gentlemen! Let’s welcome our motley crew of fighters back to the ring! And without further ado, it’s time for the final challenge; the moment you’ve ALL BEEN WAITING FOR…...TINY!”   Even before Dahlek cleared the arena, the north gate was thrown up and a huge hulking finger crawled through the door. Tiny, was actually a 30 foot tall cyclops! The group threw the plans away, and pinned their hopes on Aliñar snaring him in a web of giant spider silk. Amidst a flurry of spells and ranged attacks, Pitri got on all fours and roared weakly, acting like some sort of dragon. The audience peeled with laughter, but for some reason, Tiny reacted with fear, backing away slowly from the diminutive draconic sorcerer.   Aliñar was able to ensnare the giant cyclops in a flurry of blows and Krusk sent a flurry of scorching rays at him. Wiliman and R’kir were able to get in several good hits as the cyclops, finally freeing himself from the spider silk. Already woozy from the punishment he took, R’kir readied his spear and thrust it sharply into Tiny, penetrating just below his belt. Tiny crumpled in a heap, amidst an arcane blue glow and the crowd exploded with applause and cheers. Flowers were thrown into the ring, and Wiliman caught the scarf of more than a few lady admirers, and the handkerchief of one rather burly admirer.   For the final time, Dahlek levitated into the ring, beckoning Biff, the chief medic, to fetch the purse of prize money and enter the arena. Scurrying back with a heft leather purse, Biff lays the bag at the feet of the party members. “Nice to see the big guys knocked down a peg,” he squeaked, “it’s nice to see us little guys end up on top for once.” Dahlek made his final announcement to the crowd, proclaiming the mighty misfits the champions of the Harvestclose Tourney in Tannis. He motioned for the party to join him near his tent, and invited them to take in all the entertaining acts the Cavalcade has to offer: Dehaan and Murray, the knife throwers, Rahna, the fortune teller, a strongman named Bragg, Duke the magician, and Kiff the beastmaster and his amazing menagerie. The party talked amongst themselves and decided to split up and take in the traveling circus.  

Wiliman and Krusk

Wiliman and Krusk went to see Rahna, the half-elf fortune teller, desirous to know about persons from their pasts. As they approached the lavender silk tent, well embroidered with gold and silver, they slipped quietly inside. It was noticeably warm, despite the chill in the autumn evening.   As they entered, Rahna stared at them intently and beckoned them to sit near her table. She was a middle-aged human woman, with a large head scarf tied in a wrap around her head, covering even her eyes. Various divination tools and a large crystal ball rest on her table. She muttered to herself, “A tortle and a half-elf, what a curious pair.” Gesturing to them to take a seat, she gathered the long sleeves of her robe and sat down at an old and well worn wooden table, opposite Wiliman and Krusk. “My sight of this world has left me, but I can see the answers to your questions with a roll of the bones. What is it you seek, my children?”   Krusk asked the fortune teller, “Kest, my brother, has been missing since last summer. Every year, we would meet in Tannis for the summer solstice. Is he alive? Where can I find him?” Naara pulled some knuckle bones out of the depths of her sleeves.The bones were thick, like from a tortle and marked with runes. As she waved her hand over the bones, a faint blue glow lit up her head wrap - her eyes had filled with light. The knuckle bones rattled and moved from a neat row into a strange formation. “Follow the comet,” she intoned, her voice possessed with an otherworldly echo, “it will lead you to your brother.” Abruptly, the glow faded from her eyes and the knuckle bones returned to their original position. “What comet?” Krusk asked, “How can I find it?”   “The bones have spoken, you should have answer enough,” Rahna replied. Inexplicably turning towards Wiliman, she asked, “What is it you seek my child?”   Leaning forward, Wiliman shook his head. He was spellbound by the deep magic worked by this fortune teller. After a second, he asked, “My old troupe, are they alright? Especially the leader?” In a flash, Naara pulled out another set of knuckle bones from the depths of her many folded sleeves. These were thinner, more delicate bones. Too delicate to be human bones and too long to be elven bones, they must have been bones belonging to a half elf, covered in carved runes and inlaid with silver.   As before, Naara’s eyes began to glow and the bones rearranged themselves, moved by some unseen force. “They have come into good fortune,” Naara echoed, “look for the throne.” “Trowa!” Wiliman exclaimed, clutching at his heart in relief, “He’s all right.”   Again, the bones returned to their starting place and Naara’s eyes dimmed, leaving all three again in the dimly lit tent. Both Wiliman and Krusk wanted to ponder their fortunes. But for the clink of a generous amount of coins, they left in silence, walking slowly towards Duke’s magic show.  

The Beastmaster

Pitri, Aliñar, and R’kir had instead gone to see the beastmaster among the cages of rare and spectacular beasts. They came across a gorilla in a dress shirt (Buck) playing cards with a gruff gnome, Kiff. A few orcs also hold some cards, as they sit near a small campfire. Overturned buckets and some logs are used as makeshift seats. Pitri, bristled instantly, smelling the scent of gnome wafting on the cool autumn air. As they approach, wishing to speak, Kiff says “I’ll be right back,” to the gorilla.   “Whadya want?!” said Kiff, “I’m about to clean out this ape. He doesn’t know I can see his cards, ha ha ha!”   ”We wanted to see the animals”, the Aliñar said. “Are you taking good care of them?” asked Pitri.   “Of course we do, some are rescues. Some we find. The Bloodhawk we have was half bald when we found him. Half my fingers are covered in bites from all the feeding I do!”   “That’s good,” they responded, still suspicious and eager to look around some more. “Can we get a quick look at the animals?” asked Aliñar.   “It’s late, but the boss would get mad if I didn’t give some special treatment to our champion fighters...besides, I don’t want you to blast my acorns,” said Kiff, elbowing Aliñar with a wink. The trio took a quick stroll around the perimeter of the animal cages and pens. Although it was dark, Aliñar was able to get a good look at all of the animals: Bobo, an Axebeak; Osiris, a Bloodhawk; Coal, a Direwolf; Boris, a Giant Hyena; and Silver, a Winter Wolf. After they had leisurely walked around the dozing animals, they approached the fire, where the card game was on hold. As they approached the light of the fire, Kiff began to start intently at Aliñar.   “Oh wait! I recognize you,” said Kiff, looking at Aliñar. “You’re that Pantano swamp hooligan who ruined our last show yelling at our ape. That big monkey still keeps an eye out for the girl who knows who to speak Ape! Hey Buck!” he yelled, “your long lost ‘friend’ is finally back.”   Tossing his cards in the air, the giant ape knuckled over to Aliñar, stood up, buttoned his top vest button and wrapped his arms around the comparatively small genasi. A short conversation of grunts and howls ensued, Buck was beyond thrilled to have someone to talk to, and assured our heroes that the animals were well cared for. Realizing the late hour, Aliñar and Pitri bid farewell to the gorilla, orcs and gnome.   Turning her head back towards the card game, Aliñar hollered in Ape,“Wipe the floor with them!”   “I intend to!” yelled Buck.  

Pitri and Aliñar Meet the Fortune Teller

After a laugh all around, R’kir left to go see the magic show, while our two remaining heroes went towards the fortune teller’s tent, not wanting to miss out on the famed divination of Naara. As they entered, they noticed a chair and a high stool were set near the table. The stool was of just the right height for Pitri to sit and rest his arms on the table.“What is it you seek, my children?” asked Naara, “Won’t you let Naara roll the bones and give you your fortune?”   “Yes please,” gleamed Pitri.   “I’m not opposed” said Aliñar, ¨but what are the rules? What kinda questions do I need to ask?”   “Just ask your question my child,” Naara responded calmly, “the bones do the rest.”   “Am I going to be king?” blurted out Aliñar.   “It’s a possibility, but the fires will test you,” said Rahna, in her glowing trance. The knucklebones rattled, and returned to their original position. “What else do you need to know?” “Yes!” blurts Alinar, “This group I just fought with! Should I be working with them to become king, or am I wasting my time?   “Yeah I’m curious too!” Pitri interjected.   The two, Aliñar and Pitri, started explaining how they had fought together in the Festival Tourney, but it quickly devolved into an argument about who contributed more to the fight against the Cyclops. Pitri prestidigitated a small dragon to show how the fight went down and began gesturing wildly when he was interrupted by the fortune teller. “My dears,” sighed Rahna, “I’m blind” pointing at her large head scarf, pulled down over her eyes. Another trance fell over Rahna. “Your futures are intertwined. Seek out the VIZIER.”    Pitri, not wasting any time, asked with concern. “Is my sister, my egg, my brethren safe? What’s happened to them?”   This time, pulling out very small, kobold-like knuckle bones, she threw them. Again the bones moved on their own, and Naara, with eyes aglow intoned, The fates protect them.” Pitri, throwing 10 gold coins onto her table, asked, “How can I find them?!”   “The Euryale (yur-ALL-ee) will endanger you. Be careful in your search,” she said, this time with visible worry appearing on her face, as opposed to her almost blank expression in previous trances. Stunned with the strength of her prophecies, the genasi and kobold leave, anxious to head over to Duke’s magic show with the rest of their newfound friends.  

Duke the Magician

Duke gave off an aura of self importance, dignity, and refinement. His clothes belied his good taste and noble lineage. The gods only know how he ended up in a traveling circus. His show, however, left much to be desired, showing a grasp of magic equal only to a novice of the arcane arts. Most of his tricks were simple cantrips combined with a bit of sleight of hand. However he did disappear off the stage at one point, and no one in the crowd could seem to fathom how he managed to end up behind the crowd so quickly, and then disappear again onto the stage. After the show, R’kir approached backstage to speak with Duke. The rest of his newfound companions were in tow, though keeping their distance, Dahlek had warned them of Duke’s less than stellar charm and personality. R’kir, with a familiar, but respectful tone, he asked what news, rumors and tips the magician might have.   “Who are you? Why are you wasting my time?!” snarled Duke.   “Please, sir, I greatly enjoyed your show. Is there anything you can do to help a young adventurer like me?” R’kir asked cooly.   “Begone! I have precious little time after a show and I shan’t be wasting it on a mongrel vagabond like you!” Duke yelled, practically frothing, “Who the hell are you anyway?” “I’m R’kir Draven, you, a pretentious asshole. I’m sure we know each other,” replied R’kir.   Sensing an altercation, Aliñar rushed forward, placing herself between R’kir and Duke. “You should have more respect for us. Our magic took down that great biig cyclops not long ago. You could probably learn a thing or two from us,” she snapped, losing her laidback drawl.   “I’ve no need for your genasi dirt magic,” snapped Duke.   Aliñar launched into a litany of insults, concluding with, “You dip into the mana pool, motherfucker, I am the mana pool.”   “I’ve had enough,” sighed Duke, disappearing once more, leaving only a fluttering tent flap near where had just stood. Sensing that finding and pressing the magician further would result in disaster, the group went off to dinner. After, supping on a tasty, but simple dinner, R’kir went off to have his fortune told. His new friends.had convinced him their might be something to this fortune teller after all.  

R’kir and the Fortune Teller

R’kir caught Rahna, just as she was about to leave the tent. After a brief discussion, where R’kir pooh-poohed the benefits of magic and soothsaying, Rahna convinces R’kir to ask her one question. “How can I find my father, am I on the right path to find him?” asked R’kir.   “Your current path will lead you to the fool you seek.” was Rahna’s reply   “I apologize, I may have insulted your ex-husband” R’kir obsequiously offered.   “Don’t worry, he is a piece of shit.”  

Night Falls

As R’kir returned to the fires of the carnival folk, it becomes clear to our party that this troupe is more than a group of misfits, knaves, and rogues, but a tight-knit family. All settle in for the night, anxious for answers to their fortunes, and eager for the adventure that is a new day in Archeron. Krusk especially wonders about their fortunes, an ancient legend of the Euryale involve a comet, a throne, a vizier, the fates and a great fire...either these fortunes are useless, or the fates of these five companions have indeed become linked together.  

Epilogue

On the hills, outside Tannis, two figures watch the carnival lights go out one by one. One of them, shorter, but still of decent stature turns and looks to his companion, a goliath sized man in plate armor,“Do you really think they’re down there?”

Rewards Granted

2000 gold, split evenly between the 5 party members
Report Date
15 Aug 2020
Primary Location

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