I am Marlo, Warrior Priestess of Calimport. I have been sent on a dangerous and holy mission to the Land of Eor. The Elders of my sect believe that the raids troubling Eor are a small part of a darkly powerful evil. I have been chosen to face the evil and reclaim peace in the name of my god, Torm. I shall document my journey so that if I do not survive, others can know the truth of my quest and continue where I fall.Day One – Mid Afternoon
I write in haste as I wait to leave the city of Vendare, home of the Count of Eor, to begin my journey. The meeting with the Count this morning was a strange and unfulfilling one. He spoke to a small group of hired mercenaries and me about the raids plaguing the south of his land. Few details are available. Traveling merchants and refugees have fled here to escape a fear that no one can describe. The most solid detail we have been given is that attacks on travelers seem to be proceeded by an old man asking a traveling party for directions.
In the midst of the meeting, a great pillar of fire poured down upon the count, the mercenaries, and me. Amid great commotion we escaped, all desperately burned. We were hastily healed by the Count’s Clerics and now wait while the Count readies mounts and provisions. I am leery of traveling with these six rough looking strangers. Many hands to fight are better than two are, therefore I will keep their company.
Day Two – Evening – Town of Arth
We rode fifteen miles due south today, seeing no other travelers. My companions are a strange group. Thoran, a shifty, black-cloaked man rides far apart from the rest of the party. A slovenly Dwarf, Grunthor, seems to be chummy with an elf named Dino who constantly washes and anoints himself. It is unnerving to travel with a man who smells better than I. Buddhi, a dark skinned wizard, and Brashen, a mysterious half-elf, keep pace with us, but keep silent. The latter seems unduly concerned about snakes and other reptiles in this bright, cheery country. I have chosen to make conversation with only one member of our party- a wise, well-spoken Paladin by the name of Arillion.
Day Three – Evening – Safe Haven Inn
We decided to sleep in shifts tonight, and I write as I sit the first watch. Thoran chose sleep outside, but returned just a little while ago, begging to be healed from a run in with some wolves. Serves him right for his behavior earlier today.
As we rode this afternoon, we met a grizzled old man alone on the road. Remembering the stories of the merchants in Vendare, we were all on guard. Neither our questions nor my Wand of Magic Detection turned up any suspicion, so we decided to let him pass. Thoran chose to let the helpless old waif have a few arrows in his chest instead. Arillion, of course, challenged Thoran in the old man’s defense. A skirmish ensued, and one by one the rest of the party joined the fray. I healed the wounds that bleed. I can not heal this mounting feeling of tension.
Day Four – Evening – Robin’s Breast Inn
We might as well sleep outside, for all of the ruckus going on next door. Arillion is cussing and banging about, and I can hear the scared voices of what sound like various farm animals. I would go help him out, but I’d rather not get mixed up in some strange farm animal charm. I lost a cousin that way, once.
It was a long day. Early on Arillion and I were jumped by a party of ogres. Arillion was knocked off his horse almost immediately, and everyone else watched slack jawed as I tried to keep all five of the beasts at bay with my flail. Finally Brashen stepped to my defense and cast a poison cloud spell that knocked out half of our party and only two ogres. When we finally drove off the stupid brutes, I thanked Brashen sincerely for his attempt to defend me. I lay my healing hands equally on each member of the party - even the ones I would have liked to watch bleed a bit. Perhaps a little suffering would teach them to keep their tempers in check.
Day Five – Evening – Outside the town of Waycombe.
Tonight we camp and gather strength before entering Waycombe, the southern-most town in the lands of Eor. It may be more accurate to say we rest after spending another grueling day arguing amongst ourselves. I awoke this morning to find the Keeper of the Robin’s Breast brutally murdered. No one seems to know for certain who did it, but I suspect the killer must have been a member of my own party.
Shortly, we had a run in with a group of lizard men. As soon as they were in sight, Brashen high-tailed it and hid in a tree. We finished the creepy things off with minor difficulty. Our party seems to be strong when opposed to an outside malice. Except poor Brashen. He has little to say to defend his cowardly actions except that he doesn’t like lizards.
This afternoon we met we met Barto Trume. As the Captain of the Guards of Eor, he is a shaken man. He was fleeing Waycombe and shared little information other than to point out the direction of a copse of trees in which the destructive brigands have been hiding.
Day Six – Mid-Morning – Abandoned Waycombe Inn
I am quite glad that I am not an innkeeper, as Thoran seems to kill them just to stretch his muscles. Today he took the life of the owner of the Waycombe Inn, and now he and Arillion are head to head again. I know Thoran deserves a cold death at the hands of Arillion, but I fear we can little afford to lose the strength of even one man.
Day Six – After Midnight – Abandoned Waycombe Inn
I write again, as sleep eludes me. I saw a dragon for the first time today, and I was ready to join Brashen in his tree. We had planned tonight to stake out the grove in which the brigands hide but found a Black Dragon instead. The sight of Grunthor, charging the enormous beast and screaming, “Choppy! Choppy!” would be funny if it weren’t so helpless. Buddhi threw a lightning bolt at the brute, and it returned to the swamp.
The lizard men and the dragon are just the beginning of our troubles if what we learned today is true. Brashen gleaned a little information from a fleeing minstrel. (Why was a minstrel still here when the nearest audience is nearly 200 miles north?) The minstrel sang for us “The Ballad of Sakatha.” The only other soul left in this town is a crazyman named Stephen DeManis. Stephen can communicate only slightly better than Grunthor and is no better kept. He told us that Sakatha is a Lizard King, and drooled and screamed that he would be more than happy to guide us through the swamp to Sakatha’s home. Buddhi plans to hold council in the morning. We must decide if we will follow Stephen and under what code we continue in order to keep our peace.
Day Seven – Early Morning
We have struck off on Stephen’s seemly sturdy raft towards the home of Sakatha. Under a threat of death by Buddhi, everyone has agreed to a truce. I hope it lasts, or even this large raft may seem small.
We float endlessly through this damp, putrid place. Life teems all around us, but the only way we can tell time passes is by the growling of our stomachs. Our only distraction came in the form of an enormous band of Hobgoblins. Their arrows were frail, and only Brashen was hit. Small work for the healing hands of Marlo.
I can think of no worse possible way to travel than with a bunch of sweaty, crabby men guided by a raving fool through a gargantuan swamp. I have never heard such cussing. Oh that Torm would grant me a pair of holy ear-plugs or even a steady stream of Hobgoblins for entertainment!
The tension finally came to a head this afternoon when an enormous python dropped from the trees onto Brashen. (The dramatic irony slays me.) We made quick work of the huge thing, but, when he was freed, Brashen plunged screaming into the swamp. His mind must have snapped, for we all know that worse things than pythons live in these waters. Buddhi lassoed him to keep him close to the raft, but Dino, on a bet made earlier in the week with Buddhi himself, lobbed an arrow at Brashen’s shoulder. The ensuing argument was the worst yet. Threats rang across the swamp and Grunthor actually killed Brashen as a result. I revived him a little, and Dino, realizing he went too far, offered a healing potion to the prone Brashen.
It took the sight of a colossal rump in the mist to finally distract us from our quarrel. A Catoblepas was grazing in the middle of our path. After a quick inventory of weapons, we agreed our best chance against the monster was one of Buddhi’s fireballs. His successful throw allowed us to continue in peace until bedtime. I must turn to Torm now and get some rest, in case I need to pluck more arrows from Brashen tomorrow.
Our night was cut short by a visit from two horrid Trolls. All of our attacks seemed futile against the two beasts until Buddhi cast a spell on Grunthor to protect him from evil. Grunthor chopped mightily, and the rest of us, using his advantage, soon had the Trolls on the ground. Before our eyes, they began to grow back together. I know now things can get worse than traveling through a swamp with sweaty, crabby men. Imagine sweaty, crabby men (and one equally sweaty, crabby priestess) in the rain, chopping Trolls into kindling for another Fireball. We burned them to a crisp.
On this, the fourth morning of our journey through the swamp, we finally see an ominous structure through the mist. As I write, our feeble guide is shrieking that Sakatha is here. I do not cherish the thought of approaching this place unguarded, but I must follow the group.
Day Ten - Evening – Lair of Aulicus
Our approach to what looks like a temple was interrupted by a dozen foot soldiers. They were fairly weak, so the only member of our party to die was Stephen. Poor chap. All he ever wanted to know was why the snakes wouldn’t comb his hair. Now we will never know.
When the soldiers were gone, we peered through a curtain of shells into the temple. All we could see were three once-decorative pools and a bas-relief statue of what we think is the lizard king. Dino pulled a ram from his magic animal sack and sent it in as a test. Suddenly a Black Dragon rushed out demanding to know who woke him. I scrambled for cover, but amazingly, Brashen stood tall, foaming at the mouth, and challenging the dragon! The frightening thing circled back and forth until I thought I might wet my armor in fright. Buddhi whipped up another lightening bolt, and the beast dropped dead into the swamp.
Thoran had already made it into the lair, and Dino was nowhere to be seen, so Arillion lead the way through the shell curtain, only to be struck to the ground by a Water Weird. We crept past the pools to catch up with Thoran who was knee-deep in dragon treasure. Dino re-appeared soaking wet to say he had found more treasure in the pools without being bothered by the Weird. I am too exhausted to think about treasure right now. Dino has suggested we rest here for a couple of days to heal and regain our strength. Later we can explore the treasure and do something about those pools. Now I just want sleep and maybe a wash.
At the crack of dawn we were up and well refreshed. We tackled the Water Wierds right away, and I was able to purify two of the pools. Thinking the danger was over, we messed about with the treasure. Arillion discovered a trap door in the floor about seven feet from the third pool. On his way down we were surprised to see a third Weird lash out. Buddhi tried to slip into the trap door and was pulled into the water. Hearing my cries, Arillion rushed back up the stairs and snatched Buddhi out of the slimy murk. He blew life back into the prone Buddhi and, with the help of a lion from Dino’s bag, knocked life out of the last Weird. We proceeded down through the trap door.
Moving through dingy doors and hallways, we were surprised by a blinding light and a shower of arrows. Grunthor charged, and we all soon followed. The next thing I knew I was huddling in a corner of the dragon’s treasure room, wrapped in the arms of Buddhi. We were terrified, and we didn’t know why. After an awkward moment, we realized we had been under a spell. We dashed back down the stairs to help the others. Aided by a huge bull from the bag, we cleared the room of 20 or so men, picked through their weapons, and pressed on.
We continued to explore the vast chambers underneath the lair of Aulicus and soon discovered a barracks inhabited by several sleeping men. In their start, they charged us and were quickly squashed. As we left, Thoran decided to rustle through their footlockers. He was struck with a hidden poison dart, and no amount of poking, prodding, or healing potions could bring him back. After a somber word from Arillion, we continued to explore, discovering more rooms, and mindlessly slashing through more soldiers.
Soon we found a bedchamber decorated in gaudy colors. Arillion claimed a beautiful sword from the wall, and Buddhi discovered a trap door and a rope ladder that led through the floor. Arillion and the others proceeded down. I stayed behind, listening to their progress. I heard them find another rope ladder leading up to a second trap door. All seemed calm until a sharp expletive from Brashen broke the silence. I crept down, and the shouts grew louder as Brashen, perched at the top of the second ladder, explained that a Shambling Mound had a hold on Arillion. It looked like my pious friend had met his match. He found the sense to grab his new sword off his back, and suddenly things looked even worse. Arillion’s expression was no longer the desperation of a dying man, but the rage of one who has lost control. He sliced through the tendril of the shambler and then turned as if to do the same to Brashen. We realized the sword had taken charge of his mind. I scurried up the ladder, my nostrils filling with a noxious odor, somewhere between decaying plant life and dog flatulence. Gagging, I sat tight while Brashen tried to paralyze Arillion. When the spell held, we grabbed the prone man and tumbled back down the ladder.
Now we are all catching our breath in the darkness. Just yesterday we faced and conquered a dragon whose wisdom surpassed all of ours put together. Today two of our group almost lost their lives to two mindless creatures- one of water and one of leaves. One man did lose his life to a faceless and equally mindless enemy- greed. We must remember that our minds are our strongest weapons, if we are to make it through alive to fight Sakatha.
Day Twelve -
Today has been an educational day, although we didn’t learn much of what we planned. First thing in the morning, I made ready to speak to one of the dead soldiers, and Buddhi prepared to go fishing for guppies for his long awaited Identifying spell. On our way outside, we ran into a demon in the hall. Before one could say “shambling mound,” the cursed sword popped out of thin air and into Arillion’s hand. Again he was overcome with rage. Brashen paralyzed him, I drug him away from the demon by the ankle, and the sword disappeared.
We were heading up the stairs for a peaceful fishing expedition when the last Water Weird re-appeared. Once again the sword was back, and Arillion began slashing. The Weird over-powered him, and soon it was Buddhi’s turn to repay Arillion for the water rescue.
Dino and Grunthor spent the rest of the morning exploring the underground chamber. They turned up a spell book and a verse, more a riddle actually, that we can only assume describes how to find our foe. The rest of us spent the morning racking our brains trying to figure out how to get rid of the Hellish sword. We tried breaking it, burning it, throwing it in the swamp, and replacing it in the sheath from whence it came. After each try we tied Arillion to a pillar and taunted him. Each time, the sword would re-appear in his hand, and he would fly into a rage. Arillion, exasperated, was ready to sacrifice his life to let the party continue. We will not allow it, as we cannot afford to lose his might.
Day Thirteen
With Arillion blinded and deafened for protection, we searched through empty chambers looking for clues to rid us of the nuisance sword. All we could find were chests filled with heaps of worthless gold coins. Upon opening one of the chests, a huge explosion shocked all of us to our knees. This party, so full of piss and vinegar just a fortnight ago, can now hardly find the strength to keep walking.
We found a small lizard king statue next to a bloodstained altar. Brashen restored sight to Arillion who promptly smashed the ugly idol. The feeling of evil was nearly tangible as we continued. Opening a door beyond the altar, we stumbled upon a dark cleric. (Not dark like Buddhi, dark like wicked) When he stood to challenge Arillion, the howls of sword-induced rage drew more clerics from their cells. With one eye on Arillion, we held them off. I hoped to keep one of the evil men alive for questioning, unfortunately Dino released an owl that had some gumption. The fluffy little thing ripped the eyes out of the last man, fatally wounding him, before I could think to stop it. After paralyzing and re-blinding Arillion, we moved into the next chamber. We ran smack-dab into another dark cleric whose staff was made of twisting snakes. Brashen was off like a shot. I managed to hold him, and we dropped the cleric and destroyed the staff.
We are worn out. Even the hearty Grunthor just limps along. The little power we have is spent keeping Arillion and Brashen in sane states of mind. I am moving forward only by my faith, but even the strength of my Torm cannot conquer an enemy when the vessel is so weak.
Day Fifteen
I must quickly gather my thoughts before I can continue. What a terrible day! We crossed the dry riverbed and approached an ominous fortress. Suddenly a dozen wights interrupted our exploring. Arillion’s sword returned, so he was no help. Calling to Torm, I stepped in front of the creepy things and commanded them to leave us. We dropped the rest of the beasts and stood back, hoping to let Arillion’s madness run its course. He swung and chopped at air while we quietly turned to inspect the doors of the fortress. Dino instructed Grunthor to take a swing at the door, and the sound brought Arillion running. Grunthor took one more swing, and I screamed as I watched Arillion fall in two. He was so nice to me…I…mustn’t think about it…I need to get that image out of my head.
Buddhi cast a knock on the doors of the fortress, and we crept in. We approached another door that Dino found to be carefully trapped. A goat pulled from his bag sprung the trap and was impaled by dozens of spears. Tiptoeing past the poor ram, we entered a beautiful banquet hall. Two lizard men stepped out of a mural, offering to wait on us. That was their mistake. Brashen saw green and immediately went into a rage. Grunthor and I tried to keep the beasts off of Brashen as rank upon rank of lizard soldiers popped out of the wall. When Brashen finally collapsed, we drug him away from the monsters and tumbled through a trap door into safety. We are sitting in the quiet now as we catch our breath and clear our heads to proceed.
And so, Faithful Reader, ends the journal of Miss Marlo. As her party limped forward, they found more clerics, lead in prayer by the same villain who smoked them with a fireball in the first entry. They chased him through a secret door only to find him seated at the right hand of Sakatha. Brashen began foaming at the mouth, and he and Grunthor charged right into a poison cloud. The ever-flaming Buddhi shot a lighting- bolt through the cloud and killed that naughty cleric. Unfortunately, Sakatha responded with a bolt of his own, and Buddhi and Marlo were fried forever. Dino, in a brilliant attempt to save his hide, polymorphed into a bat. “How was that brilliant?” You ask. It was at this point that Sakatha revealed that he was a vampire.
If you would like to find Marlo’s Journal and continue her quest, she left it on the steps below the magic banquet hall. Feel free to contact the Game Hole for maps and such. The lever on the right opens the secret door you want.
Ann Marie
April 2002
Marlo’s Journal is dedicated to Carrie Ann who proofreads and shares her smoker- friendly computer desk. Thanks, Miss Jensen - AM
