The Emergence of Kaer Nerrok

Celedor's Journal: Fragment #2

The following is a fragment of the journal of the wizard Celedor, recovered and transcribed by the scribes of the Great Library of Throal

As we ascended the stairwell, I could hear clearly the sounds of close quarters combat, and just as I followed the prisoner through to the central guard room, a deathly piercing alarm was heard, accompanied by cries of “Invasion!” and “Run for your lives!”. I this confusion, the remaining guards fled, and that dolt N’Wad continued to pursue them! I, of course, being a wizard of not inconsiderable wisdom realised that this must have been an illusion. Well, I didn’t realise just then, but certainly sooner than the rest of them! Except perhaps T’Lin. But then what use is she anyway, if she can’t see through these things? It was certainly not long after we managed to pursuade N’Wad not to vault over the gate into the inner city, after the guard captain, that we emerged in the street, regrouping in the alleyway where N’Wad had so bluntly disposed of the second guardsman, in order to guarantee my entry to the guard tower, with not a siren to be heard.

It was at this point that we were approached by a moustachioed man claiming to be an agent of Lormando. His name was Ricardo, and it seems that he was the adept responsible for covering our escape. I suppose his little smoke-and-mirror trick was somewhat useful, but one can hardly respect a discipline that simply relies on parlour tricks and silly games. We were also introduced to the 2 prisoners that we had just broken free (in no small way thanks to me and my quick thinking – Celedor saves the day once again). They are Skyara, a fellow elf, and some sort of martial adept, and Porros, a windling who professed to be a thief. I must always remember to keep an eye on my concealed coin pouch when he is around. After N’Wad knocked out the guard he had tied up earlier (T’Lin wouldn’t allow him to be killed) we stole away in the dead of the night, quiet as a fox.

The next morning, having made it back to the Gilded Lily without incident, we made our way to Lormando’s War Room, in order to report the success of our mission in freeing his captured agents. The room distinctly lacking the prescence of said spymaster, I began to use my time constructively, beginning some fascinating study of Theran politics and diplomacy from books in Lormando’s collection. I did notice, however, that T’lin was looking rather the worse for wear – the product, no doubt, of a bad night’s sleep. I can’t imagine why, I slept extremely well, owing probably to the fact that a wizard’s mind works tirelessly during the waking hours, thus it is important to properly train and discipline one’s mind completely, so that as soon as it is time to rest, the mind gently succumbs to the splendour of restful sleep. It is of the utmost importance, and one of the things I take the most seriously about my discipline.

After some time, Lormando decided to grace us with his prescence, and in the absence of another mission, N’Wad decided that we should find Captain Farsight, who had not been seen since the previous evening when we left the Lily for the Guard Tower. Poor N’Wad, I believe, is driven by some sort of silly code of honour, or perhaps is even smitten somewhat with Farsight. Despite all assurances that she is capable of taking care of herself, it was decided that we should attempt to look for her in the dockyards. Firstly, though, we required to aquire some Theran clothing, in order to disguise ourselves properly.

Thus, we made our way towards the Residential Quarter. The guards at the gate attempted to hinder our progress through, but I, using my keen intellect and understanding of magical principle, talked our way into the quarter. It was at this point that we were required to gove aliases, and so it was that [ sperethial characters are difficult to translate into the throalic tongue, so this section is untranslatable ], ‘Gandalf the Grey’ (N’Wad) and T’Gl (T’Lin) accessed the Residential Quarter. The buildings there were ramshackle, poor and run-down. The (mostly human) people avoided us as though we were plague-ridden, and we found no help with directions. It was generally an unpleasant place to be.

After not long, we were met by a gang of 6, who halted our progress into the quarter and demanded we leave, threatening us with violence. I, as a resonable person, used my magical abilities to attempt to convince them to let us be, but to no avail. Eventually I resorted to practising the Theran diplomacy I had researched (As sinister as that sounds, it less about deftly stabbing your opponent, and more to do with playing the sycophant and attempting to use very subtle conversation to steer a negotiation behind veiled words – something which is a suitable challenge for one of my considerable intellect), but still they did not budge an inch. We were soon after escorted back to the Merchant’s Quarter by the city guard, thankfully avoiding bloodshed, but without having purchased any Theran Clothing.

Making our way to the dockyard, T’Lin discovered and read aloud for us some Theran propaganda, it would appear that Thera is appealing to the people of Travar to throw off the shackles of Throalic oppression, or something to that effect. Utter lies, clearly, but you can’t expect the common namegiver to be at all reasonable with these things. Apon approaching the dockyards, we found that they had been closed, but we did confirm that Farsight was inside. We decided to leave her a message, from [ untranslatable ], and make our way back to the Lily.

Here were found several technical notes on what appears to be magical theory. Being irrelevant to the narrative of the journal entry, they have been omitted here

It has been an interesting night. Apon our arrival back at the Gilded Lily, Lormando issued us with new orders. It would appear that Porros, the windling thief, had been spying on the local rulers, the magistrates, before being captured. He had discovered some sort of secret, sinister plot within their ranks. It was discovered that, in some contrived way, there was a small cult of Vestrial, posing (or actually working as – I never clarified this point) as Theran spies, posing as a cult. The cult members could be recognised by a tattoo on their forearm. As ridiculous at that sounds, it got worse. They apparently planned to perform a secret ritual to release a great horror (“Y’psnarret” or something) from the legendary Scimitar of K’Tenshin – a powerful and ancient artifact that was resident in the temple of Vestrial in the Merchant’s Quarter. The ritual was to be performed that very night, at midnight, and that was the time that we were to strike. Seeing through this dangerous logic, I pointed out the obvious – that it would be far better to sneak into the temple early, and to set up an ambush to catch out the (dozen or so) cult members before they even begin to attempt to release a horror apon the city. My idea caught on, naturally, and so we left after dark, around 10pm, disguised in the robes of Vestrial-worshippers. We, the survivors of Nerrok, were accompanied by Skyara, Porros and Ricardo.

As we approached the temple, we noticed 2 hooded figures in the doorway – the cult members had arrived early!. These were quickly dispatched by Skyara, and we moved into the ante-chamber of the temple. We discovered that the entire temple was full of Vestrial-worshippers, and a ritual had already begun. It was at this point that I, in a moment of great tension and shock, realised that these were perhaps honest members of the Temple of Vestrial, and not the cult members that we were expecting 2 hours from now. It was, I must say, a shameful moment. Still, we needed to verify the identities of these people, and the corpses of the doormen did bear tattoos on their forearms. Making sure my robe obscured me, I moved out onto the floor of the temple and attempted to converse with the members there. After some awkward questions, I came across a brilliant plan, and convinced the assembley that we (N’Wad and myself) were simple pilgrims, and wished to worship Vestrial before the Scimitar of K’Tenshin. This afforded me the opportunity to gaze apon the scimitar in astral space. It was an ancient and very powerful weapon, but I could find no trace of horror corruption. This was, of course, no indication that there was no horror bound to it, and we certainly couldn’t take chances. We were rushed out by the temple members, as they were preparing for a ritual, and so we decided to act, and assume that these were the correct targets, a decision which may yet come to haunt us. The plan was then hatched, and executed. T’Lin and I hid in the dark corners of the temple, Skyara and Ricardo waited in the ante chamber for our signal, and Porros went to the open roof and hung around, waiting for the right moment. N’Wad, under cover of invisibility provided by Ricardo, snuck (unbelievably well for one of his race and discipline!) behind the chief worshipper at the dais upon which the scimitar sat, and executed a perfect “Troll Spear”, his signature move, and the leader collapsed, dead, upon the stone altar. At this point, chaos broke out, and in following fight, all of the occupants of the temple were slaughtered mercilessly. I did not contribute much to the combat, my concentration shaken by moral dilemmas.

After the slaughter, I took the Scimitar in my cloak, and Ricardo disguised one of N’Wad’s daggers as a replica, in order to disguise the fact it had been stolen. We left behind Porros to keep a lookout for us, to make sure we had the right target. Unfortunately, in our haste to return to the Lily, we failed to leave behind some evidence to implicate Therans in the seemingly brutal slaughter of innocent monks.

After giving the scimitar to Lormando, we retired to our bedchambers and rested.

This morning, we awoke to the sounds of an angry mob, and breaking glass. This was, in fact, an astute observation, as there was an angry mob outside the Gilded Lily, breaking glass and throwing vegetables. A few city guardsmen protected the entrance to the tavern, but the crowd looked vicious. We decided to speak to them, to alleviate their fears. After N’Wad failed to calm them down with his speech (who’d have guessed?) I composed, with the aid of a little magic, a stirring and deeply felt speech, attempting to counter the influence of the Theran propaganda amonst the Travarians, and hoping to stir some sentiment of partnership with Throal. This was somewhat successful, in that some of the crowd began to mutter amongst themselves, but was also not as successful as I had hoped – a pumpkin flew out of the midst of them, stiking me from my perch on the steps of the Lily. After N’Wad attempted to laugh heartily at them, they quickly dispersed, maybe because they were calmed, maybe because the 10 foot tall horned beast with the big swords roared at them in what can barely be called an attempt at heartening laughter.

Back in the Lily, Lormando congratulated us on forcing the Theran hand in making hasty moves for the taking of Travar. He revealed to us the plans for a meeting between the magistrates of Travar, and J’Carr, a Theran diplomat and spy. It was made clear to us that J’Carr intends to bring in a fortress ship to ready a pre-invasion of Travar. If this were to happen, we would not be able to stop them, and so we were instructed to kill J’Carr before this meeting commences. We were given poison, and told J’Carr’s itinerary, as the meeting is tonight we will have to prepare quickly. I am not sure anymore if I trust Lormando – I wish to investigate this matter a little further before we simply act on these orders. The next few days shall prove to be interesting, no doubt…

end of excerpt

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Adventure Notes 7/2/11

Entering the vast City of Travar having bypassed an 8th Legion Slave Camp, the last citizens of Kaer Nerrok find themselves in a City clearly dominated by the wealth of its innumerable merchants.

Throughout the City our brave adventurers saw evidence of a mix of cultures and races including disturbing indications of a Theran presence within the City walls. Suddenly, Celedor was dropped to his knees by an unbearable stomach pain which even the taunts of a clearly amused Rawrg could not cure.

Meanwhile, T’lin’s keen eyes had noticed an extremely well dressed fop with an immaculately manicured moustache subtly encouraging her to follow him. Ably escorted by N’wad, T’lin followed the man into a darkened alleyway, where he demonstrated a disturbing knowledge of the parties exploits, identity and purpose. He encouraged them to meet him at the Gilded Lilly, a tavern in the City’s diplomatic quarter, when they were less “indisposed” by a wizard with a weak constitution.

Our brave adventurers then made haste to a healer, and were encouraged to purchase an emetic, sure to cure Celedor of his troubling stomach. Making an unexpected faux pas, the team was then bundled unceremoniously out of the shop being called “protectorate scum!”.

Lacking direction the group then decided to avail themselves of the Gilded Lilly, which upon entry was clearly a Throalic bar, being occupied by four dwarfs in Throalic garb and being greeted with a raucous cheer of “Throal!”.

Imbibing far too many tankards of fine Throalic Ale, N’wad began to unravel the situation in Travar, learning that the local Theran presence, concentrated at Triumph had commenced a blockade of airship travel between Throal and Travar. Coupled with the increase in slaving raids in the region, travel between Throal and Travar has been all but cut off. Thera was working hard to increase its influence in Travar in the interim, and Throalites were becoming divided between the “weak willed” who were capitulating to the will of the City’s Magistrates, and the “protectorates”, who yearned for Travar to embrace Throalic protection and become a Throalic protectorate as they almost did several years ago.

In the meantime, Celedor had rushed to secure a room for the night and take his medicine. Ignoring the advice of the healer to take 1/4 of the potion and imbibing the entire contents of the vial, it was no more than a few seconds before the facilities called…

Some minutes later, T’lin went upstairs to investigate a loud thumping sound coming from Celedor’s room, to discover a scene of nightmare. Even ignoring the “inadequacy” of the facilities to accommodate Celedor’s infirmity, the scene was still one of utter horror, with large maggot like creatures crawling the floor and clearly trying to reenter Celedor’s body through any available orifice. T’lin then demonstrated truly heroic courage to destroy the creatures and help Celedor clean up, before her senses were overwhelmed by the smell.

Meanwhile, Rawrg and Arryana were drinking at a prodigious rate while N’wad was joined by the manicured man they had met previously. Introducing himself as Lormando, he informed N’wad that he was the local representative of the Eye of Throal, Throal’s secret intelligence agency.

Assembling those members of the group who were still able bodied, Lormando explained that the group had stumbled into a delicate situation. Throal’s agents in the City were being eliminated by an aggressive Theran presence and Thera was working on the City’s magistrate’s to relax their control on the airways and allow Theran airships to enter Travar airspace. Lormando had raised a small cadre of dedicated protectorate supporters to oppose Thera’s machinations but his agents were few and far between.

Lormando then offered our brave adventurers a choice. Serve him in overthrowing the Theran presence in Travar or leave the City. In return for service Lormando would offer a royal commendation and passage back to Throal once the blockade was lifted.

Introducing the group to his base of operations in the basement of the Lilly, Lormando then presented the group with a Protectorate coin which would grant them entrance into his base as well as identify them as servants of the Eye of Throal.

Prison Break

The group spends some time recovering from their ordeals and preparing for the trials ahead, as Lormando inducts T’lin into the 2nd circle of the Scout’s discipline. T’lin makes a mockery of Lormando’s other agents, gleefully identiying their clumsy efforts at following her throughout the City.

Meanwhile, Celedor spends the week gleefully spending party coin on research, vainly trying to increase his knowledge of the wizard’s discipline.

T’lin was jolted back to reality by the shuddering of her Protectorate coin, and upon summoning the party, Lormando informed them that they had a unique opportunity. Theran agents had convinced the Magistrate’s watch to arrest some of his most prized agents, and they were currently being held in a nearby watch tower, but they were due to be transferred to the highly secure Magistrate’s dungeons on the morrow.

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Fragment of Celedor's Journal #1

The following is a fragment of the journal of the wizard Celedor, recovered and transcribed by the scribes of the Great Library of Throal

…by magically inducing entropic change in the soup, I was able to quite effectively ‘ease out’ the magical properties of this mysterious…mushroom? I would myself call it a flower, but I am not entirely sure it is either. Wivin, however, is adamant of its fungal nature. It was at this point that I began to notice a slight problem in our efforts to revive the crew of the Salvation.

Another airship was beginning to rise from the treeline, and my heart sank to recognise it to be of Sky Raider design. We had not seen the Sky Raiders since our brief but frantic encounter with them on our first journey to Throal, but it seemed they had caught up with us at last, assuming that this was not simply a coincidental encounter with another Raider force. I wonder how many tribes of Raiders there are? I am certain that if I were to research the…

[the parchment here is scorched for several pages]

…with a horn on his head! Now, as the Raiders approached, they grappled the Salvation, and began boarding, despite N’Wad’s efforts to climb the rope ladder and re-take the ship himself; the Raiders simply cut the rope, causing him to crash clumsily to the ground. Having been deprived of a physical means to attack the boarders, N’wad resorted to that second annoying habit of Swordmasters: the taunt. His outraged cry fell on deaf ears. As N’wad was, as wittily as a troll may, hurling many mouthfuls of creative abuse, I decided to stealthily approach T’Char, who was kneeling under Salvation, next to Captain Farsight. I informed them of an idea that, while the others were yelling or standing stupified, I had quickly formed. My plan was simply to discreetly move the remaining crew members away from under the Salvation, and to allow the ship to crash to the ground, for surely it was better to damage the ship than to allow it to fall into the hands of Sky Raiders! Alas, my plan was thwarted by a slight oversight I had made regarding the Sky Raider’s ability to fly a ship. The Salvation was now under control of the Raiders, and air-worthy, much to the relief of T’Char. It is no matter, even a wizard is not perfect, though it may shock you to hear, but a true wizard does not despair if his plans fall awry, but presses on, with ever new designs!

At that point, our Windling companion Mary decided to fly up to the ship, for what I do not know, though she cannot have succeeded, for we all heard a high pitched squeal, and saw her crash to the earth below. As the Salvation was rising away, I quickly re-attuned my matrices. Risky, I know, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I stood up tall, and cast Bedazzling Display of Logical Analysis. Now with magical power on my side, I called out to the Troll Captain, Bartrok I think Farsight called him, and appealed to his sense of honour to come down off the ship and duel my companion N’Wad (in whose willingness and ability to cross blades I am confident, passions save me). I could see that my argument swayed the Raider Captain, but he stood fast. It was obvious that he would not give up such a fine treasure as a Throalic ship, even if his honour was called into question. As a last effort to provide some result from this encounter, I began to thread Crushing Will into one of my matrices. I, at this point, heard a metallic “pinging” sound, as I believe N’Wad threw a dagger at Bartrok, who would obviously have deflected it. I would have deflected it. No, it was a futile move, but of course my troll companion has yet to learn of the subtlties of aggressive negotiation. You cannot simply be throwing sharpened pieces of metal about willy-nilly! I, having thread my spell perfectly, cast on Bartrok. He howled in pain and lurched away from the railing, my spell manipulating the astral pattern of his mind, crushing it momentarily. Unfortunately, with Batrok no longer at the railing, and Salvation rising fast, there was little else we could do but stand by as the Raiders made off.

This crushing event was followed by much confusion and running about, though mostly from the others. I believe even Wivin was terribly confused, accusing me of stealing his sausages! I do hope that if indeed I live to see his age, it may not be in such a haphazard mental state! T’Lin begain to scout out the area of the clearing, a good idea, for there may have been more jungle creatures, only held at bay by the sight of the large and unusual ship that had ere been mysteriously hanging in the air. Farsight, at this point, began to distress about what King Neden might do when he found that she had lost the pride and joy of the Throalic fleet, and so N’Wad, like the well-meaning brute he is, decided to shake her. I would have bedazzled her with a display of logical analysis myself, but to each his own, and I had far more important things to worry about. The airship’s crew were strewn about the clearing, all weak and dying, and I began to go around, administering soup as best I could to them, to halt the progress of the horror wasting disease. T’Char was in a very bad way, it was clear he would need more than just soup, so I fed to him one of the booster potions I had in spare, as I did not trust N’Wad’s amateur alchemical creations. He seemed to be ok, but I could not be sure. What I was certain of was that they would all need the attention of a healer, and soon. T’Lin, Mary and Wivin then began a journey back to Golden-Shore, to find help for the party. There being nothing else do, N’Wad foolishly challenged me to skip a pebble as many times across the lake as I could. As primitive as N’Wad’s pastimes are, the rock-skipping held some strange allure for me, and so I consented. At first, my attempts were somewhat pathetic, easily outstripped by N’Wad’s long throws, but after not long I was skipping rocks to the other side of the lake with ease, leaving N’Wad in the dust of my wake, metaphorically speaking, of course. It just goes to show that a wizard learns all skills that he applies himself to, no matter the nature. Whereas other adepts are limited in the study of their disciplines, a wizard’s study of the nature of magic allows him to perceive and understand magic in all forms. After this amusing little reverie, I proceeded to meditate, and perform my Karma ritual, rebalancing to my pattern the pattern of the universe of magic all about me.

It was not long before the others came back with mules and stretchers for the sick, and we made our way back to Golden Shores with no remarkable incident. Once back in the village, the others talked and I made my way to the hut in which we’d first spoken to Wivin, to recuperate and meditate apon my discipline. After a while, Mary, T’Lin, N’Wad and Farsight came back to the same hut, and began to consume some fluid of seemingly remarkable potency. Mary indeed collapsed after a single thimble, though I had previously witnessed her consume drink by the bottle. In the bottle, actually. After N’Wad, T’Lin and Mary had passed out, Farsight offered me a pitcher. I took it cautiously, and sniffed it. The offensive stench of it drowned my nostrils and clouded my mind. I felt quite dizzy, and decided to leave the hut, pitcher in hand, just as Farsight herself collapsed. I wandered, with some difficulty, over to the edge of the village, and for some reason decided that it would be an excellent idea to test the liquid for flammibility. I cannot say what possessed me, other than the ‘fire-spirit’, as later the villagers called it. Nevertheless, I awoke the next morning in the infirmary, with a headache, singed robes, and no eyebrows.

That day, the question on our minds was of course the question of where to proceed from this point. We of Kaer Nerrok had not in fact known how dangerous our position was, in fact we were deep behind enemy lines, with the majority of Theran forces towards Lake Ban, following the river, and a Theran-friendly approgoi of the T’Skrang in the other direction. With dangerous and difficult jungle to the North, there was no way we were going to be able to get back to Throal directly. It was clear then, that we should make course for Travar, the airship capital of Barsaive. Not a Throalic ally, but then not a Theran friend either. From there we could buy passage by airship back to Throal, and perhaps more frightening than facing the jungle, report back to King Neden the state of our expedition. It was, despite protests from certain parties (“Attacking the fortress of Triumph would be what the Therans least expect!”), decided that we should circumvent K’Tenshin territory, and move out into the open plains, and then head for Travar, on foot. And so it was that we set off the next morning. Myself, N’Wad, Mary, T’Lin, Farsight, Rawrg and T’Char.

Moving out onto the plain, we soon saw smoke on the horizon, and with further investigation, discovered a burnt out caravan, abandoned only a matter of hours. Unusually, there was not a trace of blood or violent struggle, save the obvious burning. Mary found a strange arrow, which I identified as an ork whistling signal arrow. I found, with my unusually perceptive eye, a gourd that had been squashed slighlty by a hob-nailed boot. I pocketed both of these, clearly important clues as to the fate of the caravan owners. After a while of walking, we came apon a field of long grass, and we were told to proceed carefully, as the could be all manner of wild creatures lurking in the undergrowth. Well, speak of a horror, after not long our quest was arrested by 4 orks, which Farsight identified as slavers (but who denied it, naturally), who demanded that we pay them protection money. Such extortion was so beneath me that I was immediately outraged, and used my talent for Arcane Mutterings to attempt to beguile and confuse the leader of the group, a large ork with a large crystal mace. He was, naturally, befuddled, but the others, apon detecting the magical nature of my words, flew into a rage and attacked us with thrown daggers. All of their daggers missed, save one, which struck poor Rawrg. N’Wad immediately performed his signature “Troll Spear” apon the leader, but failed to knock him down. Chaos then broke out, with all of the orks rushing forward to meet us. I, knowing what I must do, stood my ground and began to thread and cast my Crushing Will spell on the ork leader, sending him to the ground bleeding from his ears. Both Farsight and Rawrg, still weak from the horror sickness, and no doubt (in Farsight’s case at least) despair, were struggling against their foes, each a fierce orkish warrior. N’Wad, in true swordmaster style, was valiantly fighting his opponent, but was taking a few cuts himself. I only saw this briefly, for at that moment I took the time to re-attune my matrices for a more convenient selection of spells. As I did this, Mary cast her elemental Earth Darts at the ork that had just knocked Farsight down, but the hit was only superficial. At this point, I was distracted by the sight of the ork leader getting back up! He was still disoriented from my crushing his mind, and so swung his mace about ineffectually. I then cast my Mind Dagger spell on him, the advantage of speed being on my side, as no threading was required for this particular spell, but he proved inexplicably resistant to my further attempts to pierce his mind. N’Wad however, had a different sort of piercing in mind, and struck the ork down with his blade. He was not to rise again. Rawrg, I noticed meanwhile, had been struck in the leg, and then brutally booted in the face. I thus turned my attention to the ork attacking him. I once again formed a magical dagger within my matrix, and directed it at the ork. It bellowed and keeled over, as my magic pierced its brain and caused it great pain. As it attempted, quite valiantly, to rise, I performed my spell once more, and it was still. I then directed my attention to the rest of the battle. N’Wad was still dueling his ork, having disposed of the leader, and was now jumping about in a showy fashion, typical swordmaster, shouting taunts and battle calls as he did. T’Lin received a most impressive blow to the face, from an orkish sword hilt, and went down unconcious. Mary was struggling against her ork; it waved a sharp spear at her, missing very closely, before throwing it far wide of her. I quickly siezed the opportunity to thread Crushing Will, just as N’Wad’s hawk hatchet glanced off its shoulder (never could learnt to concentrate on one thing at a time, that one). Nevertheless, I cast, and the ork went down, gushing blood, just as N’Wad all but decapitated his.

Thus that day we won something of a pyrrhic victory; Rawrg, T’Lin and Farsight were knocked out, Rawrg was badly bleeding, so I decided to use my last salve of closure on him. Looting the bodies, we found little of value. Only the ork leader was dead (the others were unconcious),so I removed their armour and weapons, and distributed them, in no particular order, about the long grass.If they did decide to pursue us, we would at least have a head start. We had won the battle, but now we stood at a difficult point, as our party was in no state to travel, and certainly not to fight. We must reach Travar with all speed, but I am uncertain how soon we will be able to travel once more. Much is uncertain in this dangerous and deadly new world, and it seems that hardship apon hardship is pressured apon us. Myself a wizard, and therefore having no such concerns regarding pressure and danger, I do not worry for myself, but for my companions. Perhaps I shall…

[scorching]

…actually believe that magical threads may simply be played like an instrument…[there are scribbles here]…never did understand troubadours, always playing when I was studying. The racket they would make…[more scribbling and scorching]…and then Susan rejected me when I asked her to the annual Kaer ball, she was a troubadour, I remember…[scorched]…only wanted to touch…

Here the fragment ends

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Return to Salvation

Following a perilous journey into the Servos jungle in which the remnants of Nerrok encountered the primitive human tribe of the Cathan, swore a blood promise to the Jungle T’skrang, had their first encounter with the mighty Theran Empire and discovered the Fabled Grey-top Ashala mushroom, the brave adventurers emerged to discover the Salvation leaning on a perilous angle, bare metres from the ground, supported by the flagging magic of T’char Rotford.

Racing to create a cure, the party scrabbled to provide the cure to the 30 or so of the 150+ crew who they found lying on blankets below the Salvation. In their haste they failed to realise that the crew was lost in despair as they had been moved from the airship by Bartrok Mansbane and his crew aboard Man-hunter, a mighty sky-raider drakkar.

Bravely racing to defend the crew and retake the Salvation, N’wad was minorly injured falling from the ship’s ladder, followed by the jeers of Bartrok and his crew.

With Man-hunter approaching from its hiding place in the jungle and the Salvation controlled by Farsight’s long-time nemesis, things look grim for our brave adventurers. For the miraculous powers of the Grey-top Ashala are no aid against the might of the Sky Raider.

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