The Big Red Button

Armored in conviction and shielded by the Light of Pelor, I, Knight Sentinel Percival have survived the horrors of the mythic underworld to issue this report to the honorable Knight Captain Dawes, as is my holy charge.

Our party of Fr. Cassian, Sanji of the Glowing Hand, June the archer, and myself were determined to exterminate all further evil that was infesting the ancient elven temple that we discovered recently. We departed the elven outpost of Bonevale for the dungeon, which was not too far distant from the port. We passed a patrol of elven scouts who had aided us in the capture of the bandit Little John and we shared some information with them about the strange glade and pedestal that we found during our last adventure. 

They called it a "sylvan perpendicularity", whatever that means, and we nodded politely before continuing on our way. It may interest the Knight Captain to record that detail if it becomes a weapon that the fae can use against decent folk. They alleged that the occurrence was by the "will of the ancient gods" or some such heretical nonsense. We all know that Pelor guided us to that glade the first time. We will pray that he hides it from those with evil intent.

We arrived to the dungeon and entered, determined to clear the eastern wing of the complex. We discovered a magician's laboratory of sorts hidden behind secret doors along with the journal of something called Boblin. I was unreliably informed that that was the name of the last surviving goblin that I smote from this Oerth during our previous delve. I shrugged.

The journal claimed that Boblin was a human merchant who ran afoul of The Scarlet Brotherhood and was polymorphed into a goblin. No doubt that sorcery, if it even happened, had twisted his mind to such a state that he chose to raise arms against clearly Lawful adventurers along with his corrupted brethren. Baring steel against the Purifying Flame of Pelor is akin to suicide, a sin against the faith and doubly, nay, triply damning to the witch goblin merchant creature, and I rest easy in the outcome of our encounter despite foolish glances from the others as they attempted to place guilt on my conscience.

Apparently the creature had witchcraft to divine into the future, but was confused about being shown multiple results when only a single result was expected. The more studious of the party agreed that this was unusual and I left them to it. He was also confused about some town called Bastia, its crusader leader BalaSoto, and the minor deity Serlios. Fr. Cassian offered no insight to the unknown god, so I assumed it was a minor deity indeed and led the party deeper into the dungeon.

The doors of the dungeon regularly resisted our passage. Such is the way of the mythic underworld, where even the structure around you is permeated with evil and intent on your demise. Many traps and pitfalls were encountered and mostly avoided before arriving at a door that was surprisingly easy to open. I was blessed to ease it quietly just enough to notice two winged forms huddling in the center of the room beyond. They appeared to be sleeping and shone with a heinous, crimson glow of Chaos to my Pelor-gifted sight.

Certain that our window of opportunity was narrow I immediately crept forward to dispatch the creatures before they could react. Chivalry is owed only to the chivalrous. There are monsters in this world that if given a finger's width will take your soul. My companions readied themselves to support me from well in the rear, courageous of them I know, but it was a good thing as the creatures burst up in ambush!

They were hideous monsters of legend, statuesque female forms with golden wings and grotesque visages crowned by snakes. My training screamed "gorgons!" and I reached for my shield, polished and maintained to a blinding mirror sheen for just such an occasion. Pelor was with me and allowed me to raise my bulwark and avert my eyes as the first of the creatures weathered magic and shot from the party in order to target me with its Chaotic gaze attack. A flash of light and faint smell of powdered limestone left nothing but a statue in its place as it beheld its own horrible form and succumbed to the power turned against itself by the mirror.

The second creature attacked me with claws, fangs, and snakes but my armor withstood the mauling. Fr. Cassian Commanded the creature to "Freeze" and Pelor's miracle froze it held it still enough for Sanji to boldly rush forward and cleave its skull with his magical staff. The room beyond held quite a treasure trove which we counted and extracted back to the horses and pack animals.

We still had unexplored sections of dungeon but with no room to carry away any more treasure there was no point to explore it further. We departed for Bonevale. A flock of small Rocs observed our passing from a massive tree of obvious treehugger significance. I saluted the Lawful creatures and they cawed in what I chose to take as a respectful tone because they did not try to eat us.

We had an obstacle in that we had quite a bit of treasure but no where to keep it. We chose to split the cost of a fine villa in the town, perched in the trees like some heathen knife ears but it is what was available. Sanji hired some guardsmen and we will use the building as our base of operations going forward.

The dungeon must be cleared. We departed again for the elven temple complex, coming across a massive gray worm rotting in the sun. The Dreadwood is a dangerous place and we were anxious about what might have killed such a monster. The party guarded me as I stripped out of my armor and dug into the monster's belly for treasure, coming up with a flail bearing a spiked head with a motif of sunbursts reminiscent of Pelor. I washed it and myself and we carried on.

The remaining rooms of the dungeon were mostly uneventful, save for one ambush by giant spiders that nearly cost me my life. Sanji employed his new staff to blast the things with lightning while I stood paralyzed with poison and heavily wounded. The final spider was killed and Fr. Cassian was able to ease the poison's hold and triage some of the worst of the damage.

The final room was beneath the central chapel. It held nothing but a pedestal with a large, ominously red device shaped somewhat like a mushroom protruding from its flat top. We exhausted every possible argument for or against pressing this Big Red Button before Fr. Cassian chose to appeal to Pelor through magic for guidance. Would pressing the button be good for the party? "It *could* be good for the party." 

Clearly this was a gamble and after such a successful session it seemed foolish to everyone but Sanji to leave this Reddit trap for someone else to trip over. Much arguing and griping and dragging of feet was suffered through before we eventually left, button remaining un-pressed. We arrived back in town to rest after such an eventful few days.

As always I will tithe to Fr. Richardson's mission from my monetary gains and continue to bring the Light of Pelor to this backward, fae-cursed frontier.

Yours in the Light of Pelor,

Knight Sentinel Percival, Bone Vale

 

We Get Knocked Down, but We Get Up Again

From the journal of Namor the Mariner, Bastia:

Dec 21:  After some much needed R&R, the crew of The Bill decided to return to the dungeon from which the venturer V was rescued in November. We stocked up, hired on a few new hands (PCs) and set sail. We knew the spot and had a good routine for making landfall.

A handful of small Rocs descended on us for some unknown slight. We were ill-equipped for such an encounter and boldly fled, tossing out our stocks of food behind us to hopefully slow the creatures down. This worked to evade the Rocs but the crew was gonna be awfully hungry waiting for us to delve a dungeon. Back to Bastia to resupply.

Dec 22: Restocked and beliquored with rum, the crew was happy to set sail again for the northern coast. This time just out of harbor a rogue wave destroyed The Bill and cost us many of our crew's lives. Through use of magic and a little luck we were able to survive until rescue came in the form of shifty captain who chose to remain anonymous. No sweat there, back to Bastia if you please kind sir.

Dec 23: Morale in the tank, back to the rum. Sabo the craftpriest simply quit, retiring to become a smith or something cowardly. Morgan and the new rigger Lazlo cased the harbor for any ships that might need a change in management. I drank. I was reliably? informed that there was a fop captain that had offended his privateer crew by not taking any scores and obsessing over the ghost ship The Shadow. Some further investigation revealed them to be leaving soon and lightly crewed. We schemed to get hired on and instigate a mutiny once out into international waters.

Dec 24: We arrived for work on The Revenge. The navigator (new PC) appeared sympathetic to the crew's griping about the captain but kept it under his cap. Captain was a drug addled fool ranting about ghost ships and otherwise generally useless. Useless men in important positions deserve to hang.

Towards dusk the captain lost his shit, wailing about the ghost ship following us and giving awful orders to flee in the slowest most inefficient way possible. We'd observed him taking heavy drugs throughout the day and discounted him as a lunatic. Usopp the navigator was arrested for insubordination, but Lazlo cleverly jumped to obey the command, allowing them to retreat below decks and rouse the crew for the mutiny.

We burst topside, quickly subdued the remaining crew, and executed the captain for a useless fop. Unfortunately, he was right, we were being followed by The Shadow. It loomed out of the foggy dusk behind us and attacked with black tendrils and lines animated of their own accord. Ah shit.

Procan was with us though, and the ghost ship only grabbed the corrupted captain, tore him to pieces, and flung him out to sea before retreating into the fog. The crew sobered up right fast and accepted Morgan as the new captain. She gave orders to GTFO and GTFO we did.

Dec 25-27: We counted the hold's treasure and discovered a whole bunch of mind altering drugs along with a couple of diaries. Captain Morgan read them and we learned a bit about the last captain of the ghost ship, Solomon. Armed with some new intel, a new hook, and a stolen ship, we made for the definitely-not-a-pirate-capital of Monmurg to refit the ship to our liking and file off any serial numbers that might point the law our way.

Basus the paladin was T posing on the bow when a phoenix buzzed the forecastle. He lit some torches to honor the extremely rare Lawful creature and it tipped a wing in response. He is absolutely insane and convinced that he cannot die because of surviving our bad luck of late. He took this encounter as an omen and will undoubtedly continue being insufferable. He suggested a phoenix theme for our rebranding which seemed to gain some traction. We'll see what Monmurg has to offer.

You're never gonna keep us down.

If an Assassin Hangs in the Woods...

The Light of Pelor shines on me, Sir Percival, and blesses this report to the honorable Knight Captain Dawes.

Fr. Richardson is experiencing some unrest with the locals in the form of light graffiti on his premises. I have directed an increased donation to his church so that he may persuade the residents of Bonevale to trust in the light of Pelor and shun the darkness. The peasants here do not understand the higher stakes of the war between Law and Chaos. They will be guided.

We found a treasure map in the confiscated goods of the criminal Locksley and decided to investigate it. Sanji of the Glowing Hand hired a henchwoman named Nami and I employed a scout who gave no name and kept a distant, professional relationship throughout the adventure which I respect. Fr. Cassian and a warrior woman named June rounded out the roster.

We made an effort to check in with Sheriff Ni Hao (Kai Lan, but Sanji cannot help but poke fun at the law-creature) in order to smooth over ruffled feathers. The elf is another moderate who quails at the realities of what is necessary in the face of evil. We hoped to forewarn him of our presence and assure him that our activities would be directed outside the city limits. He was relieved.

Our map had coded clues about the location of a small bit of treasure. We ran across some elven arborists en route who kindly guided us around their orchard. While they are not people as such, I aim to develop a working relationship with the local elves until such a time as they can be sequestered onto reservations or eliminated completely. Such things are above my current station, however.

It is wild country here and our experience with the savage fauna of the Dreadwood only reinforced this truth, but thanks to our scout we evaded several potentially deadly but natural encounters and arrived at our location by midday. It was a black obelisk standing in the middle of a clearing with elven writing on it that fortunately Sanji could translate:

I am always old, but sometimes new.

I never get sad, but sometimes am blue.

I am never empty, but sometimes full.

I never push, but always pull.

Pelor guides my hand in all things and in this moment, my generally sluggish brain had a ray of clarity and I blurted out, "Moon, it is the moon." No doubt Sanji or Fr. Cassian had the answer all along, but regardless, when Sanji spoke the elven word for "moon", the obelisk sank into the ground and revealed a staircase descending into the earth.

Sanji held a torch and we began to explore the complex beneath the earth, an ancient elven temple to their prime deity Corellon Larethian. Fr. Cassian was able to explain some of the heretical religious symbols and trappings as we traveled. We took some damage from a fire trap and narrowly avoided some others before arriving at the far end of the temple. Here we were presented with another riddle:

I never was, am always to be. 

No one ever saw me, nor ever will, 

and yet, I am the confidence 

of all who live and breathe. What am I?

The warrior June had the answer quick to hand and when "tomorrow" was spoken in the elven language by Sanji, a stairwell allowed us to exit back to the surface. We got our bearings and returned through the entrance to begin a more thorough search of the temple where we encountered a double handful of goblins. They appeared to be bakers of some kind and threw a cake in the face of the surprised June (happy birthday!) while the rest of us introduced them to cold steel.

We carried on and found some treasure, evidently the things indicated by the map. We also discovered the goblins' whelps guarded by a ferocious dire wolf. The ensuing battle saw Fr. Cassian's face bitten off but the wolf and vermin exterminated. With our healer incapacitated and laden with loot, we decided to fall back to Bonevale and rest up. Despite the gruesome scarring of our Crusader's wounds, he bounced back quickly and was ready to return within a few days. Truly Pelor blesses the righteous.

Our scout discovered an unusual clearing dominated by a strange stone pedestal and unseasonably warm and inviting sunlight. We had not arrived at the dungeon area yet but this was interesting enough to cause a bit of a detour.

The pedestal was smooth stone carved with vines in masterful fashion. It had what we guessed to be sylvan script that no one could read wrapping it. Sanji took a rubbing for later. The top of the pedestal was flat and it seemed right to lay something on top of it. I tried my greatsword, but in true faerie fashion the steel skittered like water on a skillet and rattled off. I rolled my eyes and stood back, allowing the others to investigate on their own terms.

Fr. Cassian wisely chose a natural item, fitting with the woodland theme, and placed some of his healing herbs on top of it. After a magical transformation, a stone staff replaced the herbs, which Cassian was able to handle without any apparent harm. This sparked a distasteful display of greed on the part of the party as they all began to lay things on the pedestal in the hopes of being rewarded with some faerie magic shenanigans.

June's short bow was transformed into a recurve bow with a lizard motif. Sanji's staff became braided like cultivated willow. Nami the henchwoman ran screaming from the clearing when she tried to place an item on it. This was cause for some alarm but she recovered once she exited it. With Fr. Cassian as an example and encouraged by the warmth of the sunlight (and the DM's disappointed face), I chose to try again, this time placing my holy symbol on the altar. If a negative reaction occurred to the introduction of Pelor, then I resolved to destroy this seemingly benevolent altar as evil faerie trickery.

My symbol transformed into a stone great helm, light and less cumbersome than mundane versions, with Pelor's sunburst prominently displayed on the brow. I donned it curiously and was rewarded with confidence and hope. Unfortunately, Nami quailed before me, unable to meet my eyes and ranting against the items we had acquired and particularly my helm. 

Through Pelor's grace, I understood this to indicate that she was hostile and had sworn no oaths to Law. The helm was rebuffing the wicked. When confronted, Sanji revealed her as an assassin and worse yet, a poisoner. I must admit I felt betrayed and angry, but I was trying to display a more tolerant side in the hopes of repairing the relationship with Sheriff Kai Lan. 

I demanded that she be released from service and refused to adventure with her again. Apparently Sanji had invested quite a bit of gold in her foul poisons and requested that she return them before parting ways. Nami saw all of this as a threat and brandished a blade glistening with the aforementioned poison. My patience quickly running out, I gave her an ultimatum to disarm or be cut down. Before she could act, however, Fr. Cassian magically compelled her to surrender. Sanji confiscated his loaned gear sans the wasted poison and we left her there in the forest while we returned to town.

In retrospect, I was perfectly within my rights to exterminate the evil then and there and I should have. I regret the moment of weakness brought on by the strangeness of the sylvan clearing and doubts over my extreme actions in theatre in the past. I can only hope Pelor shuns the assassin and nature consumes her before she returns to cause trouble for Sanji later. If I see her again, I will prune her from polite society.

We returned to town and warned the Sheriff of the assassin-at-large. I hope this message finds you well and will spend the coming days in prayer with Frs. Richardson and Cassian to be better resolved to decisive action in the future.

Yours in the Light of Pelor,

Knight Protector Percival, Bone Vale

You Want Slavers? Cuz This is How You Get Slavers

From the journal of Namor the Mariner, Bastia:

Nov-Dec: I escorted V the Venturer back to Monmurg and he really got cracking on liquidating those trade goods we pulled out of the drink. Good lad, not sure if he's up for adventuring though. We'll have to see. I spent the weeks in taverns where I learned of a slave revolt on Jetsam Island. Also had The Bill outfitted with a battering ram. You know, just in case.

Dec 8: Returned to Bastia, met up with the crew. The revolt sounded like risky chaos but it was an option for a hook. We also had the request to set a meet between Jimmy and BalaSoto and the dungeon we pulled V out of last time, the latter of which was top of mind and interest. We were gearing up to head there when Hollander, BalaSoto's (Patron) agent, contacted us about a wererat lair not too far from Bastia. I had reservations about engaging with lycanthropes without the proper equipment, but the offered reward was solid (and engaging with other players more fun than NPCs). We accepted that mission and sailed back to Monmurg to prepare.

Dec 9: Monmurg. Pirate town, no matter what the official line is from the Sea Princes. V helped us get suited up with some silver weapons and extras. See, we figured to capture the wererats and sell them, so we got some wolfsbane and silvered manacles and nets and such. We also hired a clutch of mercs and a marshal to train (break?) the captives once we had them.

Dec 16: Bastia. Prepped the men and equipment for the task at hand. We knew roughly where the lair was and what it looked like. Just had to execute.

Dec 17: Departed for lair. I took point and surprised a wererat digging around in bushes for something, who knows what. We drubbed him and dragged him back to the group but he was resistant to our interrogation. He got shackles and we carried on probing the area.

He was easy to track, which led to a small copse of trees that the critters were using as a latrine. Smelled awful. Laid an ambush there and picked up another one. When he didn't return, the lair sent another to investigate. Some truly top-notch ventriloquism convinced him to get help and return, where we ambushed and captured two more. We were told there were 8 total and we had 4 in custody, so far so good.

The latest scuffle drew the rest of the lair out of the crazy skull shaped house they lived in and down on us. We battled them and subdued them too, Morgan's new fighter henchman Rogar the only one to take any hits and those only from weapons so no danger of contracting the disease. We searched the house, discovered some treasure, and established our training camp there. Our troops and marshal will oversee that aspect in the coming months.

Hollander was pleased that we defeated the lair but confused about language around "capture" and "sell" and "break". He didn't ask too many questions and we didn't volunteer much information. Probably best that way. He paid us and we rejoiced. Next up: Dungeon?

Justice Served

Good tidings to the honorable Knight Captain Dawes. I, Sir Percival, give thanks to Pelor that I am able to report in good health and spirits the following:

Fr. Richardson and the Pilgrims of the Warming Rays of Benevolent Pelor in Ascendency have been settled in Bonevale with ample funding to establish their mission there. Fr. Cassian and I tithe to Fr. Richardson to aid in the endeavor and will continue to do so. A young man, Timothy O'Reilly, tried his hand at adventuring as my squire but found it too dangerous. He has volunteered to aid the mission and continue to serve with honor. 

As you will recall, our lawman Zimon secured the warrant for the arrest of the smuggler known as Little John. Zimon displayed his value to the group by covering our lack of aptitude in skullduggery. Fr. Cassian and I oversaw the offloading of our bait while Zimon and Sanji went to make contact with the smuggler. Zimon felt it important to contact his known associate Methany, but she was never located to my knowledge. In hindsight, we failed to appreciate how precarious the situation was and missed an opportunity to notify Sheriff Kai Lan of our warrant of arrest. Our bittersweet relationship with the elf magistrate persists.

Little John's men attempted to lure us into a trap but events on the docks escalated quickly. Demands of surrender were met with lethal force and our group was left with no option but to subdue the criminals. Through the use of magicks and superior martial ability, several smugglers were captured, including the ring leader Little John. We were unfortunately forced to slay many that simply would not throw down their arms. Fr. Cassian saw to their repose and we pray that Pelor will not leave them in the dark.

Sheriff Kai Lan aided us in the interrogation of Little John after an exasperated conversation centered around our warrant and failure to produce it before acting. Zimon begged forgiveness and the Sheriff was forced to acknowledge our results. Little John revealed several platoons worth of bandits still at large in their woodland camp. We learned the proper method to approach the hideout, passwords used for security, and the expected patrol routes of their scouts. Using this information, we led the Sheriff's men in an infiltration and dispatched the enemy to the man. Fr. Cassian and Zimon both took grievous wounds in valiant combat with the enemy's leadership but they are expected to recover fully.

The Sheriff saw to swift justice by hanging any captives as thieves and murderers. It is my opinion that this is right, despite my suggestion that the captives be indentured to His Majesty's Service among the rowers of the Keoish Navy's warships. We are en route back to Gradsul to reprovision and turn in Little John to the authorities there. I will report to the Chapterhouse to pay my respects and receive further orders.

Yours in the Light of Pelor,

Knight Defender Percival, Gradsul