Session 20230525 Solars?

General Summary

Bertrum's Journal

Dear Journal,   Within the treacherous confines of Jackdaw's fickle realm, where hope teeters on the precipice of despair, I remain steadfast in chronicling the turbulent events that unfold before me. A new chapter unfurls, saturated with daring stratagems and the unforeseen emergence of celestial power.   Bound by the chains of captivity, I pursued my plan of delay, meticulously crafting a greatsword for the nefarious Jackdaw. Yet, fate, that capricious weaver of destinies, intervened in the form of an opportune encounter. Conversations ensued with the guards, those stalwart companions who harbored their own simmering flames of rebellion. Through honeyed words and impassioned pleas, I convinced them to bide their time, to grant Nightshade, Lyris, and Blood on the Snow a chance to execute a daring rescue, to seize victory from the clutches of this malevolent oppressor.   While fashioning the sword, I labored in secrecy, forging knives of unparalleled excellence. In covert diligence, I armed not only the valiant guards who shared my imprisonment but also extended the tantalizing allure of freedom to the remaining hobgoblins. With each blade bestowed, a glimmer of hope ignited, a spark of defiance amid this labyrinthine darkness.   A welcome respite graced my soul as "Spring's First Kill," a harbinger of salvation, infiltrated the camp's tenebrous confines. With whispered tidings, he relayed the arrival of Lyris and Blood on the Snow in the vicinity, their purpose intertwined with the celestial dance of Nightshade. They had dispatched a call to Gavirat, procuring the elixir of vodka—a potent gambit to inebriate Jackdaw's forces before unleashing the fury of liberation. In anticipation of the impending onslaught, I armed the prisoners within the camp, preparing them to grasp the weapons of emancipation when the clarion call of battle rang through the air. A symphony of anticipation reverberated within the shadows, the crescendo building as hope clung to every breath.   Yet, in the midst of this turbulent panorama, a disquieting encounter transpired. Jackdaw, the master of manipulation, approached me with an insidious proposition—to join his darkened ranks. A shiver of trepidation coursed through my being, for I knew well the sorcerous rituals he bestowed upon those ensnared in his web. The perilous prospect of succumbing to his powers and inadvertently betraying our fledgling resistance clung to the fringes of my consciousness. By some stroke of fortune or cunning, I managed to persuade him to grant me respite, to grant me a night to ponder his offer, thus affording the imminent escape plan its opportune unveiling.   And so, when the tendrils of awareness alerted me to the oncoming rescue, I summoned the bribed hobgoblins, their task to stealthily slip away from the clutches of captivity. A flicker of hope fluttered in their eyes, mirroring the aspirations of liberation we all held dear.
The night arrived, cloaked in the shadowy embrace of clandestine machinations. Lyris, the embodiment of stealth, danced his way into the camp, bearing barrels of potent vodka. With honeyed words and a beguiling presence, she enticed Jackdaw and his malevolent cohorts to partake, to drown their senses in the intoxicating depths of mirth. The fiendish grasp of inebriation seized their ranks, ensnaring them within a veil of disarray.
As the tide of fortune shifted, Nightshade, that ethereal specter of retribution, stealthily infiltrated the camp's heart, her sword poised with deadly intent. In a single fluid motion, she thrust her blade through Jackdaw's blackened heart, delivering an end to his nefarious existence. Oh, the look of surprise upon his wretched countenance—truly, it could not have happened to a more deserving miscreant.   Yet, the lamentation that tugs at my weary soul is that Jackdaw's demise failed to plunge his forces into disarray. Alas, only a portion of his twisted ravagers succumbed to the weight of his absence, some collapsing while others fled from the specter of uncertainty. The battle had only just begun, and the tempest of conflict loomed ominously upon the horizon.   A maelstrom of valorous defiance erupted, as Nightshade, Lyris, and Blood on the Snow, their resolve etched upon their visages, fought with unyielding fervor. Side by side, they danced upon the precipice of danger, their blades singing a symphony of liberation. Alongside them, the liberated guards and those who joined our cause surged forward, their hearts aflame with a burning desire for freedom.
Our path was strewn with adversaries of formidable might—a pair of ogres, their hulking forms casting shadows upon our resolve, and two titanic trolls that defied the limits of mortal endurance. The ravagers, ensnared by their own arrogance, fell with relative ease, and the ogres soon followed, their bellowing roars silenced beneath the weight of our collective might.   Yet, the trolls proved to be a formidable hurdle, their sinewy frames resistant to the sting of mundane weaponry. Only the combined efforts of Nightshade and Blood on the Snow, those blessed with mystical prowess, could mar their impenetrable hide. Their assault, however, was no easy feat, as each strike demanded unfathomable resilience and unyielding precision.   In this tumultuous fray, Lyris, the epitome of grace and cunning, orchestrated a symphony of diversion. With deft maneuvering and artful guile, he and I, accompanied by the valiant guards, endeavored to distract one of the trolls, creating precious openings for Nightshade to unleash her formidable prowess. Blood on the Snow, steadfast in his defense, held his ground against the relentless assault of the second troll, awaiting the opportune moment to join our ranks.   And then, in a blaze of radiance that defied mortal understanding, a revelation of cosmic magnitude unfolded before our eyes. Nightshade, Lyris, and I, bathed in a resplendent golden light, felt an otherworldly transformation stir within our very souls. The ineffable power of the Unconquered Sun descended upon us, anointing us as Solar Exalted. The implications of this celestial ascendance remain shrouded in mystery, a tapestry yet to be unraveled by diligent inquiry. But the surge of newfound power that coursed through our veins was nothing short of breathtaking, igniting the embers of destiny within our hearts.   In the wake of this divine revelation, the battle raged on, with fervor and determination radiating from every warrior who stood against the encroaching darkness. We fought as one, united in purpose and resolute in our quest for emancipation. With each resounding clash of steel, we inched closer to the precipice of victory, our spirits intertwined in a tapestry of unwavering resolve.   Oh, how the story unfolds, dear Journal, with its twists and turns, its moments of despair and glimmers of hope. May the quill of fate guide my hand as I pen the final strokes of this tumultuous tale.
And so, dear Journal, as the dust settled and the battlefield grew silent, we stood victorious. We emerged from the crucible of darkness, forged in the fires of adversity. But the echoes of our deeds resonate beyond this moment, for our journey has only just begun.   With hearts ablaze and the sun's light illuminating our path, we shall embark upon the next chapter, guided by the flickering torch of hope and the promise of a brighter future. The world awaits our touch, our actions inscribed upon the annals of destiny. Together, we shall strive to shape a realm of harmony, justice, and the triumph of righteousness.   Until next we meet, dear Journal, may the quill of destiny continue to inscribe the grand tapestry of our lives, and may the light of the Unconquered Sun forever guide our way.   Yours faithfully, Bertrum Blumenthall, the Solar Exalted

Rewards Granted

Solar Exaltation!
Report Date
25 May 2023
Secondary Location
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