A Treasure Like No Other

Miscellaneous

To the township of Roon the party ventured, encountering several individuals who were more than happy to guide the group to their target. Amongst this, they received a strange letter from a supposed friend. As the new day dawned, the party ventured out in search of the Witch Doctor's grave but only encountered one of her many minions - ravenous and ready to feed upon the blood of the unsuspecting.

You found yourselves wandering through the streets of Roon, directed by the innkeeper, Enkin. He informed you that your "Tiefling friend" left a message regarding Ewys, the local sorcerer. You all set out to find Ewys in the early morning light, the rays of the All Father's Light beaming against the Rune Stone, casting a shadow over the sun dial arrangement that surrounds it. The Stone appeared to ebb with a calming aura as you saw this dark-skinned Human male in his mid-40s, carrying three full crates into his store.   As you approached, he gave you a wide smile, ear to ear - his pearl white teeth glinting against the gas lantern. He informed you that Nashandra's grave was protected by the Tribe of the Deep Forest, an ancient clan of druids who found purpose in stopping the Witch Doctor's return. Convincing Ewys that you were attempting to prevent her return, for the signs were all there, he decided to guide you to the tribe's whereabouts.   The encampment was nothing if not to be expected; hide tents, tall staff-like torches that light the area, and many animals that seem to reside in most of the tents. Ewys brought you to the tent of Elder Healer Vashyanka, who told you that Nashandra was once a great healer of these people and decided to attempt to heal for generations to come. For this, she delved into darker voodoo arts regarding immortality, sacrifices, and vampirism, which drove the tribe apart. The other half of this tribe is said to be located in the Forest of Lost Dreams, out towards the Cannach Silver Mines, eight miles away.   Dispensing her wisdom, you returned the favour, granting her your assumptions and observations that she would be returning. A red glyph on the Rune Stone, ebbing with a dark aura, in Nashandra's name. You saw the glimmer in her eyes die, her body becoming uneasy.   Her old body rose, her grey eyes glancing across the party; a tired sigh exhaled.   In a blink, her body shifted into a dire wolf however, despite its large size and potential for speed, her old joints not what they used to be. Her new form guided you all through the dark, treacherous, and quite marshy terrain towards a strange faerie circle that surrounded a single natural gravestone. You all noticed that a fine blue powder coated the fungal phenomenon, creating a casting circle.   Upon closer inspection, the casters of the group - Medwin and Arlington - both noticed the scale of the device at play. The substance: a fine, refined Hannibilium powder that is used as an extremely powerful catalyst in spells. Using his power to Identify Magic, Medwin accidentally triggered the circle, illuminating the ancient language of runes that spanned up the 30ft trees, to the canopy. Hiding beneath the light, barely lit up by the glow of the powder, descended two Spined Devils, wielding tridents, and attacked.   After a dreary battle, you eventually emerged victorious, and found that these creatures were dormant guards for the grave, sent by some of Nashandra's minions to kill any defilers. They had nothing of interest on their person.   You couldn't quite understand the spell that was at play, however, upon exhuming the grave you found a body that was not that of the depictions you gathered. The ring finger and tongue of this corpse was missing, with no apparent reason for the brutality.   Vashyanka promised you that she would gather the tribesmen when they returned from their moot, to guard the grave in case others arrive to gather more of Nashandra's wares. Ewys, in all confidence, informed you that Sozomul of Cannach would know in greater detail what was happening to the Rune Stone, and perhaps would know more of the ancient magic at play.   Without a carriage to ride, Ewys offered you three of his horses, and for courtesy, transformed your Artificer into a hardy riding horse. Ewys gave you a farewell, hoping that his horses return afterwards.   The evening came and went as you got to the trading town of Cannach, home to the elusive Sozomul. There, you witnessed a duel between an amateur gunslinger and Red Star, the renowned bounty hunter. Avoiding the encounter, you split up the group - Medwin escaping to the library, and the rest going to The Half-Full Tankard, a rough inn recommended by a lacklustre guard.   By the dawn, you had heard of Sozomul's increasing wealth despite silver being at an all time low in its economic value, and a rumour that Puspon the Conjurer's workshop has been found in the Forest of Lost Dreams.   Medwin, upon hearing "conjurer" asked adamantly that the party should investigate, and managed to convince you all to head out to see what you could find.   The forest was eerily quiet, the air thick with damp and rot, as you made your way to what was unexpected. Puspon's workshop, a run down, abandoned hut, withered and rotted. Entering, you kicked up a thick layer of dust, and realised the place had been relatively untouched for some time; bottles, books, ingredients, all empty, withered, dry, ruined. The only thing that caught your eyes was the chest that lay beneath the single bed.   Bran, being the over-confident Dwarven gladiator, decided to cleave the chest in two with his two-handed great axe. The first strike merely cracked the lid, but the second strike beautifully cleaved straight through but gave out a squelching sound, as if flesh had been sliced through. You all pulled the chest in two and found the spilled out internal organs of who you could only assume to be Puspon. Her body was vandalised before you cleaved her in two, with a striking familiarity - a missing ring finger and tongue.   This discovery was met with a strange phenomena, the flames of your torches extinguished, the door slammed shut, the shutters on the window crashed close and the thick dust blew from a source-less gust. Two glowing, blood-red eyes pierced through the darkness and you heard this calming and sultry voice address you.   "Ah... Fresh blood... You do intrigue me so, your inquisitiveness has given me a concern over my affairs. Please, do come for dinner... I think it should be delicious..."   The figure flashed from the room, the door swung ajar, the windows blasted open, and your torches ignited again.   You looked to your companions, a worried gaze with shaken eyes, your teeth chattering slightly.   "We're gonna need some silver..."