AAR: [9M] To Grandmother's Grave We Go (2021-03-21 23:00 GMT)

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bronzemountain
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Re: LFG: [9M] To Grandmother's Grave We Go (2021-03-21)

Post by bronzemountain » Thu Mar 18, 2021 11:39 pm

This adventure has been rescheduled for 2021-03-21 at 23:00 GMT (19:00 EST)

bronzemountain
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Joined:Fri Feb 21, 2020 10:02 pm

AAR: [9M] To Grandmother's Grave We Go (2021-03-21 23:00 GMT)

Post by bronzemountain » Mon Mar 22, 2021 1:01 pm

AAR: To Grandmother's Grave We Go
GM: Dvarim
ECR: 9
Difficulty: Medium

Player Rewards:
Bloodbeat: 39,000 LP, 1,000 sp, 3 TIPs
Zivilyn: 39,000 LP, 1,000 sp, 3 TIPs
LaShana: 39,000 LP, 1,000 sp, 3 TIPs
Norg: 39,000 LP, 1,000 sp, 3 TIPs
Vlolkir: 39,000 LP, 1,000 sp, 3 TIPs

GM Reward: A'horangi - 39,000 LP, 1,000 SP, 3 TIPs

Downtime:
Zivilyn: Downtime: Animal Training (Talent) - Step 19 including karma (Rank 9) (can train up to 9 commands total, or improve non-combat skills by +1 per command used on it)
Research - Step 24 including karma (Rank 5). +3 to the step is available at a cost of 20 sp for access to the Great Library of Throal.
Item History - Step 17 including karma (Rank 6)
Bloodbeat: * Alchemy 11 (rank 4) [Booster Potion, Small Light Quartz]
* Forge Armor 18 (rank 7, step 14 + karma)
* Forge Weapon 17 (rank 6, step 13 + karma)
* Item History 17 (rank 6, step 13 + karma)


Summary:
Vlolkir has found Ommgagh's grave, and also her spirit. He has learned that there are places where his kin might have survived along their terrible path from the Twilight Peaks to Throal. And he has come to be responsible for two of them - Yaspreeta and Jaspr. What do the other points on the map hold, one wonders.

Sharkforce
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Joined:Thu Feb 28, 2019 8:39 am

Re: AAR: [9M] To Grandmother's Grave We Go (2021-03-21 23:00 GMT)

Post by Sharkforce » Mon Mar 22, 2021 9:35 pm

From the Journal of Zivilyn, Windling Magician: To Grandmother's Grave We Go


Vlolkir finally showed up. Didn't say where he had gone off to or anything, and also didn't come looking for me, instead he just wandered into a bunch of random taverns and started bellowing about needing powerful adventurers to undertake a daring mission. Well, I had already been willing to lend a hand, so I just shrugged and went in when I heard him shouting, and agreed to go along. I cannot say that this particular method of recruitment is the *most* effective method of attracting powerful Adepts, although it was surprisingly effective at drawing in Novices and non-adepts of all varieties.
After sorting out who was actually prepared to face whatever a Warden Sky Raider and Horror Stalker wanted to deal with, we were left with myself, Haze, Howler, LaShana, Norg, and Bloodbeat, and he probably could have gotten us much more quickly by just looking for us instead of inviting one and all.

Anyways, he wanted to find the site of his ancestor's grave. She was a renowned Sky Raider, it seems, and he was looking to reclaim his lost heritage, restore his ancestral Moot, and apparently make as big a noise as possible along the way. Finding her proved surprisingly easy compared to what I expected. Her grave wasn't protected by impossible puzzles or guarded by traps or deadly monsters. I mean, it wasn't where he *said* it was, at the head of the Galanga River, but after some pointed questioning he remembered that she had been sung to her rest by griffins or some such thing. Troll taste in singing aside (I mean, really, they're lovely creatures, but I wouldn't call their cries "singing"), there were no griffins around, but the Griffin Falls further down the river seemed a likely prospect. Also, I didn't mention this, but I'm pretty sure that legend was full of crap; I've never heard of jungle griffins singing for any Namegiver.

Anyways, the trip was relatively pleasant, as some merchant company had been building a trail through the Servos (I won't dignify it by calling it a road, but it does have way stations and guard rails, which is not too easy to set up in the heart of a jungle). As we approached the falls, we were surprised to hear the sound of combat. We rushed ahead, and there was Vlolkir's great-times-a-bunch grandmother, killing a group that was in the area surveying it to continue the trail. One of them was dead and beyond our help, the other was dead and lucky to have a Nethermancer around to bring him back. Actually, 3 Nethermancers as we would later find out... one of the surveyors was a surprisingly powerful Nethermancer himself, a Dwarf interested in history and lacking a sense of self-preservation, it seems.

Ommgagh (Vlolkir's ancestory) was pretty annoyed about having had to wait several hundred years for a proper descendant to show up, and had spent much of that time killing anyone or anything that tried to claim the grave, and probably a lot of people who just happened to be passing by if what happened to the builders was any indication. She then proceeded to spend over an hour telling Vlolkir to be more awesome, and telling LaShana about her conquests in the bedchamber. Norg smashed apart the rock that was covering her grave, and Vlolkir recovered a badly outdated map as well as several Thread Items; a bow, a large sword, a girdle, and a pair of bracers (notes about them later, once I'm done compiling them). I took some time on the rest of our trip (and the trip home) to analyze them a little, as did Bloodbeat, but the main point of interest was the map (on a side note, I can read Troll now).

The map had a list of places where parts of the Moot had been left behind for various reasons; starting from the Twilight Peaks, then the Gray Forest, the Mist Swamp, the Badlands, the southern region of the Serpent River, the southern parts of the Servos, and lastly right in the deepest part of the Servos, where a few warriors had stayed to hopefully recover from a strange sickness. They had stayed with some Elves, followers of Jaspree. This was Vlolkir's planned starting point.

It was a bit of a slog, but seeing as the ground was not on fire, there were no gale-force winds, and I wasn't being boiled alive or traversing a scourged wasteland, it was actually quite a refreshing trip. The map was pretty terrible, but that's what Scouts are for, and LaShana performed admirably (come to think of it, I'm not sure if I've mentioned she's a Scout now. So, uhh... she's a Scout). The trip was relatively uneventful, in the sense that we were equipped to handle most of the threats. I got lots of samples of interesting creatures that I can turn into now... nothing I'd want in a fight, or with particularly odd abilities, but I shall enjoy learning about them regardless.

We were getting close to our destination (as far as I could tell), and since it looked less intact than I might have liked I suggested a War Party might be advisable. Apparently the jungle didn't like that, as a few chidra attacked us. They proved to be no match for us, but it did attract the attention of an Elf who sent the last one off alive... or tried to, before Norg and Vlolkir cut it down.

I should note at this point that if you want tactfulness, you should not bring Vlolkir anywhere. It was like he had a sixth sense for what would he could say to offend our hosts as much as possible. The Elf led us to a hidden village about an hour's journey away, which turned out to be the sanctuary Vlolkir's "cousins" were to be found in (I've never had much of a head for genealogy, you'd have to ask a Dwarf what the exact relationship is by now, but I think "cousins" might be stretching the meaning quite a bit after 500 years worth of Troll generations apart). They weren't in at the moment, go figure, as they were just about to complete their apprenticeship as Adepts.

The village was a beautiful place that we were able to visit while we awaited their return. We spoke with their elders; "Oracle of the Moon" Selimbri,"Whisper of the River" Nethalonia, "Singer of the Glade" Otaru, and "Bosom of the Earth" Guersh, 2 Elves, an Obsidiman, and an Ork, in that order. They had been blessed by Jaspree to have a kaer, which they graciously showed us to and allowed us to stay in (they did not have an inn, for obvious reasons). They had a recent flood which had damaged their records, which isn't too surprising considering they almost literally cut through the river they were on, which I'm sure saddened our Nethermancer friend who seemed to love history (for some reason, I can't think of his Name, it's like it just slips away every time I try to think of it). They had a butterfly garden where the butterflies were glowing (and also cause halucinations if you touch them), and tiny frogs that were deadly poison to touch. LaShana really liked the butterflies. I think she might be buying out Throal's supply of Firefly Chalk as we speak...

At any rate, we stayed the night and spent much of the next day exploring (and I lent a hand where I could... just because *some* people can't help insulting everyone and everything around them doesn't mean the rest of us can't show some appreciation for hospitality), when it dawned on me that I hadn't seen the Nethermancer who had followed us all this way in quite a while. When I asked around, the others hadn't seen him either. LaShana tracked him to the edge of the village, at which point we started preparing for a jungle hike again; the crazy fool had gone out without taking any travelling gear, but I'm certainly not about to. In any case, the young Trolls were also supposed to be in that direction, and were overdue, so it seemed a good idea to check it out.

We found the dwarf, walking back towards the village in his nightclothes. We pointed him in the right direction and headed off to find the kids. Good thing we did, too; they were surrounded by a ring of mandrakes and forest trolls, who were trying to urge them towards the village (it seems these creatures were transformed followers of Jaspree from ages past, including some of the warriors Vlolkir had come looking for the descendants of; good luck making Crystal Raiders out of *them*, Vlolkir, I don't think they're interested).

Beyond them, as one of the forest trolls wandered off, we heard a bloodcurdling scream, and when we went to investigate were some horrid beetles that turned out to be quite thoroughly unnatural. They were fiendishly quick, their legs were tipped with blades, and they had a hideous unnatural maw on their undersides. They were quite well disguised from a distance, as they had beautiful brightly-coloured shells, but they delighted in pain and took pleasure in causing great tearing wounds as they pierced flesh with their deadly limbs. One of them seemed to speak to Vlolkir as though a distant voice were coming through it, asking him which of the young Troll Adepts it should slay first, as it pledged to hunt down his family and slaughter them one by one. To my shock, he chose Yaspreeta, the sister of the pair, who was a Beastmaster; what kind of loon *actually talks to a Horror????*

It is fortunate again that we had Nethermancers among us; the young Trolls had been guarded by the forest creatures, who we were able to give a Last Chance (although the forest troll seemed to be just fine on its own, which seems quite interesting), and even Yaspreeta was restored to life... although her brother Jashpr (an Archer, for the record) was quite understandably infuriated with Vlolkir. I mean, I *sort of* get the logic of the decision, but still, that is *cold*.

Vlolkir told them they needed to join his efforts to restore his Moot to glory. I'm surprised they didn't kick him in the teeth right then and there. I'm even *more* surprised that they decided to come along at all... though I think they had their eyes on some of the pre-scourge Thread Items he was carrying, which may have been part of it. They actually placed themselves in his care, which seems shockingly trusting of them, all things considered. Norg spent much of the return trip trying to talk them out of doing anything stupid (such as, say, going straight to the Twilight Mountains to reclaim the moot), and I think he probably did a reasonably good job of it, not that I'm an expert. It's probably best they didn't get advice from me, or they'd probably be off to learn how to be a Nethermancer from a crazy old Troll in the mountains of Throal or something like that.

Shokunin
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Re: AAR: [9M] To Grandmother's Grave We Go (2021-03-21 23:00 GMT)

Post by Shokunin » Tue Mar 30, 2021 10:16 am

From A Roughly Tied Sheaf of Papers Titled 'Vlolkir'

I know where is the grave of the long gone line-mother. She is Ommgagh and was a great warrior. She lead the line into the ling night so the moot would survive. She fell so the line would live. I know she was laid under stone to griffon song, father Onvruo says in the remembering he tells us.

I find some others, Zivilyn who is strong and good for a small warrior, Bloodbeat who is a T'Skrang and is a nethermancer and has powerful wisdom, Lashana who I have not seen but who Zivilyn knows who is fast and dangerous and they say is married to Death but I do not think this true. I go with Norg who is very slow but also dangerous. We journey to the jungle to the stones together.

The stones are in the jungle at the head of the river. We go to the head of the river and they are not there. We talk and think of a place where griffons sing as in the rememberance. It is south so we go there then through the jungle. I have been here before, slain many foes here. I expect horrors, and expect beasts. I see dwarfs, and they are not heroes or fighters, they stay in small houses and wave as I go. The crafting folk have strange plans. We go further to a place of water running over a cliff in the river and hear screaming of namegivers. The screaming is dwarfs dying so we run to see, and they are dying to a spirit. She is Ommgagh and she recognizes me. There are some dead and some living dwarfs, they came close to the rocks and she repaid the intruders.

I speak with the line-mother now long dead whose spirit has stayed so long in the stones. They are now one stone, and she has watched until the long night was over. She asks me where I go, I say to the moot to see if warriors will come and cleanse the world. She says that I am weak, that we are owed for so much and that I am to take it. She says I am to be chieftain of the moot for my power and my claim. This is true. I speak to her of how to return home, and she says we must use the map on her bones. Norg splits the rock and we heave until there is ground and the bones of Ommgagh. She has great weapons and armor and goods with her. And a map is there in a case. I do not read the words of the moot, but the others can tell me their meaning and say that it is a map with places marked and names. We see Sanctuary in the jungle and Ommgagh tells me wounded were left there during the flight. She says to look for my brethren for there may be some.

We go to this place, careful as I expect there to be beasts and worse. As we prepare to approach a place that is seen in the jungle we are attacked by trees that claw and bind. They are very fast and capture Lashana. I strike but they are tough with bark like armor. We battle until they are driven off and we are weary from the ambush. Then there are elves who are followers of Jaspree. They tell us of the deadly trees and how to slip their notice. We talk some of the trolls who came for aid in the long dusk during the flight and they say there are some few left. They say there are two who have gone to discover their strength and are to return. We feast and talk. Lashana tells me these things as I cannot understand the elves.

The next day we wait long. The adepts do not return and there is worry. I wait until it is long enough and we must go. We are told where Jaspree shows new adepts discovery in the jungle and we go to there. It is far and we find the two surrounded by the cursed tree-blood elves I have battled before and what look like brothers who have become the same. They circle the younger ones and will not let them leave. We come close and I think it is a battle but they move and bring the young ones to us. They tell us of what they have fone and why they have not come back, and they talk with us until things come, like the ones that eat the leaves from the plants in the fields of throal but the size almost of a troll and there are swords on their legs. Stupid jungle. I know we are to always meet beasts like these here.

They move fast and I strike one down, it puts a leg through me, through Thunderplate. The others account for two more. It is blades and shell and blood. Then one moves too fast and true. It hisses in my ears the way the blasted spirits do and I know its kind now. It demands I choose one of the young ones to die. I say to it to take the beastmaster, I know her by the claws and the monkey with her. She will be strong, like friend Jael. The other will be like friend Karl... Also strong... it puts a blade through her and she falls. Young novices have not meditated on the truth of discipline enought to fight horoi yet. The last is dispatched and I send it to the netherworld with my challenge. It is good to tear down a foe who will feel the terror of its ending. We use potions and things and spells from Bloodbeat who we are lucky to have with wardings and spells that aid the fight against filthy spirits.

The young one is raised up and the two demand of me as their elder brother that I teach them. I cannot teach them as they do not follow the right discipline but I will make them nuat and show them as I know of the world. I speak to them if the flight and of Ommgagh and the sacrifice. I tell them my plan and that we will see home and the moot soon. It is good to be walking backwards in honor.

Anoush
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Re: AAR: [9M] To Grandmother's Grave We Go (2021-03-21 23:00 GMT)

Post by Anoush » Wed Apr 21, 2021 10:09 pm

Bloodbeat’s Journal:

Out of the blue, I got a message from Vlolkir, asking to meet at the Broken Drum. When I got there, I realized that he’d invited a number of companions. The others were: La Shana (windling thief, er, security expert), Norg (troll gauntlet and air sailor) and Zivilyn (windling multi-discipline magician). He’d also reserved a jack of good ale for our group, so there were no complaints.

Vlolkir explained that he was planning an expedition into the Servos Jungle and was looking for other adepts to accompany him. The Servos could be a dangerous place, so this was a very understandable precaution. Then Vlolkir dropped an important detail into the conversation: he was going to find his great-great-many-times-over grandmother’s grave. At that point, nothing could have prevented me from joining him on this journey. All I could think was, “What a great trip this would be!”

Vlolkir’s grandmother had been the matriarch of his troll clan and had led the clan out of the Twilight Peaks to the safety of Throal just before the Scourge began and Throal closed its gates. She died and was buried somewhere in the Servos Jungle, but Vlolkir had rough information about how to locate her grave.

We collected jungle gear, including some vials of Kelia’s Antidote, and booked passage on an airship to take us to the edge of the Servos. We disembarked at what we thought was close to Grandmother’s grave, which was supposed to be close to the head waters of the Galanga River. We were looking for an ancient cairn of rocks. All the details we had were from an epic poem that Vlolkir knew by heart, Omgagh’s Fall.

Norg served as navigator in the jungle. After some study, he told us that the Galanga had changed its course over the centuries. The poem stated that “Griffons sang her spirit to its rest,” so we assumed this referred to Griffon Falls.

With this knowledge, we continued into the jungle canopy. Occasionally we came across railings that made the trail easier, more accessible. We could only wonder as to who had installed the railings, and why. After a half day of travel, we came across a shack and a pier next to a river. We surmised this was a rest stop of some kind. We found more of these rest stops, each about 20 to 30 miles apart along the river. We noticed the emblem of a dwarven alchemist and mining company, and it finally made sense. The dwarves were exploring this part of the Servos and so they’d set up the railings and the rest stops to make the jungle more accessible.

We continued following the river into the jungle, and after a few more days, the river quickened, moving faster and faster. Eventually we could hear rushing water, a waterfall. Then we heard Name-givers screaming in pain and the clash of weapons that we all recognized as battle. We rushed forward to find some hurt dwarves and t’skrang, plus a couple of dead dwarves.

Then I saw her — Grandmother. She was a magnificent ally spirit, the ghost of a troll matriarch. One of the dwarves was desperately trying to banish her, but I could tell it wouldn’t work. Vlolkir pulled a dwarf out of Grandmother’s way and confronted her, “I’m here to see you, Omgagh.” This gave Grandmother pause, and she stopped battling. Instead, she approached Vlolkir until she was just inches away, studying him, uncomfortably close, sniffing him, using all her senses, then finally pronounced, “You’re one of mine.” Even though we were a couple yards behind Vlolkir, the rest of us could feel the cold emanating from her, the cold of death and oblivion. The wounded dwarves and t’skrang ran away as fast as they could.

Vlolkir slowly began talking to his Grandmother. He explained that he wanted to find their ancestral troll moot in the Twilight Peaks. He told her about himself and his training, especially as a Horror Stalker, to demonstrate his seriousness. Grandmother seemed to accept him.

Finally, Grandmother began telling us about her clan’s journey out of the Twilight Peaks, and about herself. She had been a fierce warlord, with many husbands and consorts, taking who and what she wanted no matter what others wanted. In exchange, she had sacrificed everything, including her life, for the survival of the clan. At one point, she proclaimed: “I am everyone’s hero, Omgagh the Soulcrusher.” Later Vlolkir told us that she got the moniker Soulcrusher by breaking the hearts of her lovers; her consorts had been largely disposable. LaShana was fascinated by this story, and spent the rest of the journey talking about how she wanted to be a Soulcrusher as well.

She told Vlolkir that the moot belonged to him and his kin now. But that he’d need others to find it. She approved of Norg, even though in her words, he had the “smell of lowlands” about him. By my estimation, the rest of us were beneath her consideration.

Grandmother ordered Vlolkir to unearth her remains, along with those that had fallen with her, from a nearby rocky outcropping. The outcropping had been formed from a large number of smaller rocks, many of which had fused together over time. Norg, with a mighty blow that felt like a thunder clap, created a large crack in the fused rocks. Between then, Vlolkir and Norg tore apart the rest of the rocks until the remains were exposed. Along with the remains, we found a wealth of Thread Items, including: an ancient bronze scroll case, a heavy bronze sword with orichalcum in the hilt, a huge bow, bracers made from the shell of a fire turtle and filled with silver and lined with black espagra scales, a war girdle made of razor boar hide and rivets of true earth. A true treasure hoard!

In the scroll case was a map. We recognized some of the landmarks on it, like the Throal Mountains, the Twilight Peaks, Death’s Sea. For other places on the map, we had no reference point; these were places like the Spire of Seven Mists, the Reverse River, and the Floating Isle of Maralore. The landmark closest to our location at that point was a pair of hills next to ta river marked with a cupped hand and labeled Troll Sanctuary.

Grandmother asked Vlolkir if he knew the story of how his ancestors came to Throal. He said yes and repeated the story, verbatim, detailing a trek from the Twilight Peaks to the gates of Throal. The gist of the story was that they went through hell and despair, and that many were wounded or died. At each place of battle, the clan had to give us something of themselves. Grandmother told him that Troll Sanctuary was a shrine to Jaspree where the clan had left its injured members, rather than slow the rest of the clan on the road to Throal. She speculated that some of those trolls might have survived and continued their line, so their descendants might be there still.

Grandmother’s words weren’t always clear. At one she muttered something like “Perhaps we were only laying the seeds, and now you must collect the harvest.”

Eventually, I asked what she wanted done with her remains. She didn’t care what we did with them, saying “we’re all just dirt now.” Still we burned them all — Grandmother, the other long-dead trolls, and the dead Name-givers who’d attacked her — ritually on a funeral pyre.

One of the Name-givers who’d been battling Grandmother when we arrived was a dwarven Nethermancer Named Dogheki; he was the foolish one trying to Banish her. Dogheki told us that he now had two ambitions; first, he wanted to chronicle Grandmother’s story, and second, to make amends for attacking her. He practically begged us to let him come along with us so he could document the tale. He promised to stay out of the way. Against our better judgement, we agreed.

If the map was true to scale, the shrine to Jaspree was within the range of the Servos Jungle, to the southwest. LaShana’s navigation skills were put to a real test as she guided us, with Norg’s help. Along the way, we realized that the Servos had changed a lot since the beginning of the Scourge. Rivers and other landmarks had moved. So there was a lot of doubling-back and retracing our steps, but eventually we found the area where we were convinced the shrine would have been.

It was a strange place. We found a cliffside that had strange things moving inside it, or at least, that’s what it looked like. Next to a pleasant lake, we found many molted feathers made of something glass-like. We found the footprint of a giant ape, where the print itself was over one yard across. And we found the ruins of a shrine, ancient pre-Scourge ruins. But no sanctuary.

Zivilyn offered to perform the War Party ritual with the group to enhance us all for any upcoming battle. But the ritual wasn’t complete before we were attacked. It started when a tree next to us moved in a way that trees should never move. Later I learned that they were called Chidra. In the midst of battle, across the lake we caught sight of a primitively dressed elf. The elf was humming in a soothing way. It was a difficult battle, especially since we caught off-guard, but we prevailed.

After the chidra were dead, we approached the elf, whose first words were “You tread loudly,” in heavily accent sperethiel. The elf told us that we would be better off if we were at harmony with the forest. He was sad that we’d killed the chidra. Then he brought us to see his village elders. The walk to the village was about one hour, not far. The village itself was primitive, very in-tune with the local ecosystem, leaving as little impact on the jungle as possible. We were joined by other elves, until eventually we were effectively surrounded.

The elders were a mixed group: two elves, one ork, one obsidiman. Luckily, they spoke an understandable version of Throalic. We learned that we were their first visitors since before the Scourge. As to how they survived the Scourge, they said that the Protection of the forest was strong. Then they brought us to a group of trees all grown together, and led us beneath into a shelter that led downward into a kaer which was not just underground, but below the river. The kaer seemed to have a series of protections. First there was dense earth and stone, with strange luminescent butterflies fluttering around, then the passage led further below ground. There we found a living crystal that formed a protective dome. The only explanation they gave us for how they created the protection was “Jaspree was generous.”

They told us that some of number of trolls sheltered here during the Scourge. Some of them took shelter in the kaer, while others accepted Jaspree’s blessing of other forms and survived the Scourge in the forest. Two of the descendents of those who sheltered in the kaer were then of age to prove themselves as adepts. Their tradition was that Novice Adepts went into the jungle to find their direction or path. The two young trolls were then in the jungle doing just that, but were expected to return the following day.

When we inquired further about the trolls, the elders could provide no more details since the village recordkeeper had died recently, but peacefully. Their Hall of Records had been flooded the previous year, so no physical records remained.

We spent a pleasant night at the village, inside their kaer, admiring the colorful butterflies. The next morning, Dogheki was gone, but his pack and gear were still present. So we assumed he’d gone exploring but intended on returning. Then we learned that the two troll novices, Yaspreeta and Jashpr, had not returned. So we went looking for them. LaShana found their tracks after being told what direction they’d headed off in a couple days earlier.

About one and a half hours out of the village, we found Dogheki, dressed in night clothes, walking toward us, looking confused. He seemed ok, but jumped when we approached out of the brush. We sent him back to the village and continued our search for the novices.

Not too long after that, we found the two young trolls, with a very confused monkey. Nearby was a tree with a target on and it and two arrows sticking out of the center. It seemed that one of the trolls would become an Archer, the other a Beastmaster. In the brush nearby, we caught sight of several mandrakes. Mandrakes we recalled were basically elves made of wood and were highly poisonous. There were also a number of mutated trolls near the novices, trying to grab their arms and direct them away from the area. These trolls must have been the modified descendants of Omgagh’s clan, changed to survive the Scourge.

We called out and waved the novices over to us. The mandrakes all leaped into the trees and melded into the brush. The forest trolls wandered off. Then we heard an attack from the jungle undergrowth. A different kind of creature was attacking the forest trolls, and then they came at us. I learn later that they were called scar’keks. They were large, long-legged beetles that had swords in place of legs. Their main attack was to impale us with their legs. Their real targets were the two young trolls. So we did our best ito defeat the scar’keks while protecting the novices.

But one of the scar’keks got through to the young trolls and cornered both of them. One of mandrakes leaped out of the brush and intervened when one attacked Jashpr; the mandrake died, not Jashpr.

One final scar’kek caught up to the two novices, grabbing them. Then it addressed Vlolkir: “What a delightful surprise, Vlolkir. I didn’t expect to encounter you. Step by step I will erase you all. Choose between Jashpr and Yaspreeta — one will live and one will die — your decision.” Vlolkir struggled with the decision, but finally choice Yaspreeta, on the assumption that she was more likely to survive the creature’s attack. Sadly, she was dead in a split second. Just before he raced off into the jungle, he left one final thought with Vlolkir, “I will see you soon.”

We immediately set to work returning Yaspreeta to life. I used my Last Chance spell on her. Between that and some potions, she was soon restored. Jashpr was still angry, furious even, at Vlolkir for choosing her to die, rather than him. But at least they were both alive and well.

In the end, we returned to the village. Back in the village, we learned more about the village history. 12 of Vlolkir’s ancestors had stayed here rather than continue on to Throal. These trolls were all wounded or sick from being in a corrupted area. Some took shelter in the village, while others accepted Jaspree’s gift, were transformed and survive the Scourge in the jungle.

Vlolkir took Jashpr under his wing, and Jashpr returned to Throal with us.

sigfriedmcwild
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Re: AAR: [9M] To Grandmother's Grave We Go (2021-03-21 23:00 GMT)

Post by sigfriedmcwild » Fri Apr 23, 2021 11:26 pm

From "The Skies of Barsaive", as penned by Norg, Brother of Earth and Sky, Corsair of Throal

Vlolkir was going around Throal shouting at people to join him on some kind of adventure and I was really tired of dealing with the Admiralty Board and their red tape. You would think they would get over the Arngeir being wrecked in the Coil given the whole "flying citadel of doom" thing, but no, apparently that was proof us "civilians" were not fit to handle "real" airships.

Vlolkir set up "interviews" with people willing to join him at the Swindled Hog an inn of, at best, questionable repute. The interviews mostly consisted of shouting at novice tier adepts until they left in tears, a stellar example of Sky Raider leadership, or maybe it was the Horror Stalker talking? Either way eventually the crowd was reduce to the only people willing to tolerate Vlolkir, namely Bloodbeat, LaShana, Zivilyn and I.

Vlolkir's plan was to go to the Sevros to find the grave of one of his ancestors and somehow restore his ancestral moot. I think. Normally I would be very excited to help a fellow troll in such an endeavour, but I had... reservations, shall we say, about Vlolkir's ability to lead a moot.

We left, hitching a ride on an airship heading in roughly the right direction and dropped at the headwaters of the Galanga, where Bloodbeat joined the crazy cult of "setting self on fire for the health benefits". More importantly there was no sign of the grave. After some pondering I was pretty sure the river course had changed during the scourge and Vlolkir muttered something about griffins being involved in the burial.

We started following the river down looking for clues and admiring the work the Daicar brothers had been putting into making the path suitable for regular traffic until we heard some fighting. A group of namegivers were getting wrecked by a troll looking spirit so we stepped in to try and calm things down and help the dying.

Turns out the spirit was in fact Vlolkir's many times removed grandmother and we could all see who he got his social graces from. After hearing about his plans to restore the moot she was definitely not impressed and demanded that he return to the "proper" raiding ways something that Vlolkir was way too happy to agree with. She also demanded that I serve Vlolkir... I would rather walk to Thera and invite them back to Barsaive.

Anyway we were instructed to open up her cairn and retrieve the items inside a simple matter of smashing some rocks. The grave goods included a bow, a bronze sword, some bracers made of brocha shell, and a wargirdle make of razorboar hide (I hope it does not shed). All thread items according the the magicians. We also found a scroll case with a pre scourge map listing various locations along the route the moot took from the Twilight Peaks to Throal. After some confabulation we determined they must be places where members of the moot were left behind for one reason or another.

Ommgagh Soulcrusher (Vlolkir's ancestor) showed the family one track mind by demanding the Vlolkir go and find the descendants of those left behind, bring them back into the moot and a return to raiding. We also got treated to an overly detailed explanation of why she was called Soulcrusher which included a large number of improbable sexual acts.

Of the namegivers we rescued, one (a dwarf nethermancer) asked to join us to make amends to the spirit his work had offended so we took him along to the closest location on the map, some kind of sanctuary. LaShana and I managed to track a reasonable course and we arrived in about a week. Along the way we saw several interesting sights which I am sure have their location noted down in LaShana's journal.

The sanctuary looked like the ruins of a shrine to Jaspree and assuming some climactic fight would happen we stopped outside for Zivilyn to cast War Party on us. Turns out the tree we stopped under was in fact a chidra and surprise chidra hugs are surprisingly vicious. As we were finishing with reminding the tree things why trees should not move, an elf dressed in rags popped out of the jungle and tried to send the last standing chidra away before we finished it.

The elf then proceeded to chide us about or choice of location and past time before leading us to the "elders". Turns out the elf came from a village nearby populated by elves and a smattering of other namegivers. The elders turned out to be another elf, an ork, and an obsidifolk. After introductions we are shown to their kaer and told some of their history. Vlolkir enquired after the trolls and was told that there were a few and two were out in the jungle for their rite of passage in adulthood.

By nightfall of the next day the two kids were not back yet and our dwarf friend had also disappeared, so we started trying to track him down. A few miles out we found him walking back down the path, looking dazed and confused but not obviously tainted so we sent him back to the village and continued to search for the kids.

We eventually found the kids, one with a monkey near her and the brother holding a bow. They were surrounded by mandrakes and forest trolls which seemed to be herding them. Once we got close the creatures dispersed back into the forest leaving two very confused novices.

Not a moment later we heard the noise of one of the forest trolls being hacked to pieces by, as it turns out, a horse sized, beetle shaped horror construct of some kind (later research tells me they are called scar'kek). There were four of the things and they seemed intent on killing us, or the kid, or some combination thereof.

Vlolkir jumped right up to one and got brutally stabbed for his trouble. LaShana also got badly injured before I could crush the one attacking her. The things seemed focused on the kids and treating us as targets of opportunity. As it turns out they had an uncanny ability to target weak points in armour and I got repeatedly poked by one, but it did not actually do that much damage.

Two made it to the kids and mandrakes repeatedly sacrificed themselves to save them. As we were about to finish the last one, the horror directing them spoke to Vlolkir and asked him which kid he wanted to save. Vlolkir did not even hesitate to name the brother who had to watch his sister get impaled not three feet away.

Excellent leadership Vlolkir, make the first impression be that you are willing to throw your followers lives away with no hesitation. Truly what would make a scared kid wish to pledge their life to you.

After dealing with the last beetle, Last Chance was applied to the dying girl and we managed to save her and we returned to the village were we pieced together some of the history. Apparently the forest trolls and mandrakes were elves and trolls that had been "blessed" by Jaspree to save them when they couldn't fit in the kaer.

In response to Vlolkir's demand that the kid join him in restoring the moot, the demanded both the bow and training. On the way back I tried to make sure the kids would be ok and let them know that they owed Vlolkir nothing, in fact he owed them

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