[late start, but a comedy of errors led to all of us each being reasonably late with only Joush actually absent. Gray in NPC mode, we start up missing very little time…]
Ken (GM) WHERE LAST WE LEFT OUR HEROES
Ken (GM) they had done a medieval drive by, revived and interrogated a guy, then bribed him off with whiskey
Ken (GM) The map has been expanded with the Minotaur’s advice; slavers reside nearby, and the blighted lands of Gorgoth lie to the East. We find the party at the roadside, planning their next foray to the Tower, South
1:30 Adolf S.: I think last time we decided that we ought’a stealth around to the west through the trees, probably to that grassland there, and then south through that until we can hit a road.
Perhaps using the road just to get our bearings before diving back into the stealthier option.
1:30 Gandalf G.: I forgot where we’re going
I know it’s for the McGuffin
but where is it on the map again
1:31 Ken (GM): South by Southwest, [pinged for the guys on the map] apparently directly south of the volcano
1:32 Gandalf G.: alright
stealth and trees sounds reasonable then
1:32 Adolf S.: The Slaver camp is presumably really well populated, and extremely hostile, so’
1:32 Syviis Adjeon: the elf agrees with nodding.
1:33 Gandalf G.: psh
who’s ever heard of an impolite slaver
1:33 Ken (GM): nodding intensifies
1:33 Gandalf G.: always happy to welcome you into their home
you’ll never want to leave
1:33 Adolf S.: Reminds me of the jokes they do on the cool ass jungle boat ride at disneyland.
Joke about a head hunter / head shrinker, two for one deal, always comes out a head, etc.
1:34 Gandalf G.: I’ve got tour guide humour
ouch
anyway yeah
I agree both ooc and ic
west sounds good rn
1:34 Ken (GM): kk WEST!
Ken (GM) The cool mists swirl about you as Gray leads the party West, off-road, into the marshy woodlands. Skirting the reported slavers camp, you are quickly plunged into misty darkness, as the mossy trees hang with old-mans-beard and other veiled decrepit things. Crows caw sharply in the heights of the trees, and the mulch below is slimy and treacherously footed
1:37 Adolf S.: Bomrek’s happy to be way up on top of a horse rather than beard-deep in that shit.
Ken (GM) Gray presses on, scenting the air, marking a path for your horses. Here, where the bog has taken over the rotting wood, you see the green of at least stunted grasses and crawling mosses. Less dead, more dying.
Syviis Adjeon watches the horse carefully, cooing encouragement into the animal’s ears
Falkirk has cautiously donned his apothecary’s mask, hood pulled high as he rides
Ken (GM) It takes some time to traverse the thick terrain, but by the time your hunger strikes at midday, the half-wolfman has broken the path out of the woods, up into the sandy grasslands. Here, you see the mists of the bog trailing away under the wind. Rolling low clouds crawl North on the horizon, and due West, a bright red splotch of fire marks the peak of the volcano. It belches black smoke down it’s sides, into the land about you
Falkirk mutters about brimstone
1:40 Adolf S.: Is Bomrek too familiar with Volcanos from Dwarven culture n’ such?
Ken (GM) Gray leads your troupe to what appears to be a fresh spring of water, and after testing it himself, he advises you all to refill canteens and allow the horses to graze on the half-dead grasses
Suðri Skornbrekker feels a sense of instinctive awe and fascination looking at the volcano, though he’s never seen one before
Suðri Skornbrekker does so
Falkirk refills his canteen, scanning the horizon
1:41 Ken (GM): [Volcanoes are a rarer thing. Deep in the Earth lies the magma veins. Here on the surface, there should not be a volcano so prominently out of mountains. It is a very unnatural occurrence]
Syviis Adjeon “It’s nothing if not a dramatic land…”
Suðri Skornbrekker doesn’t trust the water, but he trusts Gray
1:42 Falkirk: “We’ll need plenty of water. This land is choleric and sickly. The air is vile” He says, voice muffled through the long beak of the plague mask.
Ken (GM) Gray wrinkles his snout in disgust “It is all I can smell here, brimstone and vileness. The water is clean though, so drink up”
Bomrek stares at the Volcano for a long few moments, before refreshing his canteen and ensuring his horse gets it’s drink. He holds the reins in his hands and lightly pats the horse’s neck as it drinks, but his eyes are solely focused on the volcano. A look of unsure concern lies in his eyes.
1:44 Suðri Skornbrekker: “It might even be an improvement were the volcano to erupt and bury this whole wretched land under fire, soot, and pumice. …but after we are gone, please.”
1:44 Bomrek: “This is wrong. This land makes so little sense.” he turns toward the south. “We should make haste, and try to stay away from that. It could be… some sort of place of significance to the Beastmen.” he says unsurely.
1:44 Falkirk: “It’s been said that the hot, choleric air will drive a man to insanity with time. Nothing cools a temperament like cool water.” Falkirk nods sagely at his own words
1:45 Suðri Skornbrekker: “Does the air here drive one insane, or is it already insane for anyone to come here?” Suðri Skornbrekker smirks
Syviis Adjeon grins “Why can’t it be both?”
Falkirk turns his head, face a literal mask
1:46 Suðri Skornbrekker: “I’d rather not be doubly insane, so I agree that we should make haste,” he says with a hearty laugh.
Bomrek stares toward the Volcano and the lands before it. Are there any structures or signs of intelligent presence at all, from this far away?
1:46 Falkirk: “We’re no different to the land, both have temperaments and vitality.”
Falkirk scuffs the ground underfoot
1:47 Falkirk: “This land is sickly.”
Perhaps the insanity is merely a pox that spreads through these miasmas.
1:47 Syviis Adjeon: “I fear you are correct. Perhaps some of what we accomplish will help heal what is ill.”
Falkirk hops onto his horse, canteens refilled.
1:48 (To Bomrek): You scan the horizon; broken spires of stone jut out here and there, beyond the gray hills, but nothing man(or beast)-made in sight. The plumes of smoke roll down the volcano side in wavering gusts of cold wind. Where they move to reveal the land is a blasted waste near the peak and sickly gray grasses below
1:49 Bomrek: “Healing? No, not a land this wretched. Burn it down, burn it all down and cordon it off for a few generations, and then we can take a peek inside. There is no good here that I’ve found.”
Ken (GM) Gray checks his horse, re-checks the packs, as well as his sword in the sheath
Suðri Skornbrekker has finished refilling his canteens, stretches, and climbs back onto his horse after it has had some to drink as well, and a mouth full of dusty grass.
1:50 Falkirk: “Sometimes to fight a plague, one must burn the corpses…”
1:50 (To Bomrek): You’ve been hung over this entire morning, and it’s starting to burn away. Can you roll HT for me please?
1:50 Bomrek: rolling 3d6 vs HT(Hangover)
(4+6+3)=13
Nope.
1:52 (To Bomrek): Pity, you’re still not recovered fully, still at -1 rolls. Speaking of which, the siren song of liquor is calling to you. It would be so easy to just drink some more, and have the hair of the dog brush off the cobwebs
Suðri Skornbrekker thinks back to the black, winged demon horse
1:52 Suðri Skornbrekker: “I reiterate my suggestion from weeks ago: the king should just build a big, beautiful wall all along the border.”
Suðri Skornbrekker “that would need to be a pretty high wall”, he thinks to himself
1:53 (To Bomrek): Care to resist? or just give in?
1:53 Bomrek: “Better a dead man than a live bandit. Old saying. It’s a matter of fact, more than anything…”
1:53 Bomrek: rolling 3d6 vs SC(alcoholism)
(3+1+1)=5
Success!
1:53 (To Bomrek): IRON WILL; the dwarf will weather his drunken penance
1:53 Bomrek: “Aye, a wall would work. Beastmen have no mind for stone work, any tunnel they try to dig would just collapse.”
1:54 Ken (GM): right! so, moving on into the South…
Ken (GM) Gray Turns his trail (and after some consideration, decides on donning the doctor’s mask he was given, “to help stifle the stenches here”). The sandy hills of dead grass roll away, the dead forest to your left, the wastes to your right
1:55 Bomrek: ~stuck in the middle with you~
Ken (GM) As you plunge into the soft earth here, the trail is easier; thick dusty sand gives way to hard packed earth below, and your horses find easy footing here. The grasses are dead and grey, but rustle in the cool wind, a soft susurrus as you ride. Soon, the hills roll up and down, up and down, up and down, until you break the horizon, and see ahead, the marsh.
1:57 Bomrek: Is the green representative of a road?
1:57 Falkirk: it’s a snake
1:58 Fiss: snaaaaaaaaaaake maaaaaaaaaaaaan!
1:58 Ken (GM): 😛 [Obscure /tg/ memes…]
Ken (GM) the countryside drops off into a wide green bog; hillocks of hard land jut up from it like a million islands of trail, but to the misty horizon you see nothing but the bog ahead. It rolls straight East into the edge of the wood, the crumbling earth giving way straight to the water below
2:00 Falkirk: Is it mask time?
2:00 Bomrek: Hm. Am I right in assuming that this will be very hard ground to travel? Might be wise to head south east through the forest if that’s the case.
2:01 Falkirk: we might run into an ogre
2:01 Bomrek: Yeah, but we only have so much food, and we have zero intel of that area. At the minimum we ought’a take a peek and see if there are roads. If there are, maybe we go through the bog. If there aren’t, eh, we might be good to travel through
Ken (GM) Gray scans the horizon and looks at the watery expanse “I’m not sure of the footing down there, but the trail would be hard, yes. Doable, but slow, as direct as it is”
Suðri Skornbrekker feels a little uneasy heading through the marsh, both mobility and visibility significantly impeded.
2:02 Falkirk: “Would it be faster to detour round, or to power through?” Comfort is a minor concern, expediency is everything.
Ken (GM) Gray grimaces, looks at the scrawled maps, and the horizon again “The bog may well be faster; unless we found a convenient road in those woods? The straight path to the tower is the faster route”
2:03 Bomrek: “To detour around, surely, but there could be enemy patrols, or just locals if we go around… Still, I’d say it’s worth it.”
Falkirk nods slowly
2:06 Falkirk: “Then I propose we take the most direct approach. Let’s not forget what we’re doing out here. This could end the war before the next harvest.”
2:06 Bomrek: “Hm. I suppose I shouldn’t begrudge a safe route. Aye, let’s go through the bog then.”
2:07 Ken (GM): [very good, to the wet path!]
2:07 Gandalf G.: oh shit the horse is stuck again, get out and push
2:07 Bomrek: Stop, you’re flooding it!
Ken (GM) Gray scouts the edge of the drop-off, and finds a softer graded path down for the horses. A spill of earth, sandy and gray, rolls into the water, leaving a short hop down for the horses to the water. As he hauls his steed down, gray hops in first; the water is warm, semi clear, silty, but the bottom is stiff. Rocky clay lines the belly of the bog.
Ken (GM) “Not the worst we could have hoped for…” he says in a somewhat happier tone
2:09 Gandalf G.: can we ride across the bog or is it horse-leading turf
2:09 Bomrek: “Lets hope this place doesn’t have alligators, I was never very good at hunting them back home”
2:10 Ken (GM): [seems to be okay to ride the horses; gray is feeling out a path on foot, but the horses are okay to follow in a line]
Ken (GM) Gray seems happy at the challenge of gator-threats. “I wonder what that would taste like?”
Gandalf G. scans the misty surrounds with an invisible scowl
2:11 Bomrek: “Quite good, actually. Too soft at first, but proper seasoning and cooking works wonders.”
2:11 Gandalf G.: oh good 🙂
2:11 Falkirk: “Is their meat red or white, I wonder?”
2:13 Bomrek: “Rather white, if you let it bleed a bit.” Bomrek says, somewhat less on edge, thinking back to delicious meals of the past,.
2:13 Falkirk: “As I’d expect from a place as warm and damp as this. Let us not indulge too freely.”
Ken (GM) the rest of the daylight is spent ruminating on lizard-recipes and the nuances of Dwarven spices. Your party trails a muddy line through the waters, cold wind blowing over in a rush. Small juts of rocky belligerent land stick out of the bog, spurs of stone surrounded by some chocked grasses. And still, the bloodroot grows, strangling the few dead trees and bushes about you.
Ken (GM) as night falls, Gray leads your horses to the largest jut of stone possible, so at least the horses will not be standing in water overnight. The little island isn’t soft at all, nothing but gravel and gray stone, but it’s dry above the waterline.
2:16 Bomrek: “Doctor, this plant, certainly it’s magic based, right? Some fowl demon-spawn, not natural to this land, horrible as it is.”
2:16 (From Falkirk to GM): Is it?
2:16 Bomrek: Bomrek comments on the quality of the land, his back hasn’t felt this good for months. Damn the grass and soft dirt, this is true natural bounty.
He’s very fond of firm beds, clearly.
2:17 (GM To Falkirk): Definitely unnatural; from some dark nether realm somewhere. The way it thrives in dead earth, on any surface, it must be drawing sustenance from somewhere other than the natural plant cycle
Suðri Skornbrekker sleeps like a rock, whether he sleeps on one or in a comfortable bed. At least gravel and stone are trustworthy, and nothing can suddenly burrow from them.
Falkirk breathes vader-y through his mask as he glances down at the root, scratching his neck under the mask
2:19 Falkirk: “It is… unusual.”
2:20 Bomrek: “It seems unnatural to this land. That makes me think it’s spreading. Now I imagine it will spread into Elf and Human lands long before it creeps its way to my home, so for now I can sleep soundly, but it is still a great concern.”
Falkirk stares, mask unblinking and does not reply
2:21 Suðri Skornbrekker: “We should look into it and study the plant, if it even is a plant, in detail—after we have returned and repelled the armies rallying at Gorgoth, who seem to be a more immediate threat if I do say so.”
2:22 Syviis Adjeon: “One thing that concerns me is the source of these roots…I can’t help but imagine they are directed or hedged by mortal…or at least…aware hands.”
Falkirk after a moment, dismounts and heads to the nearest root growth, drawing his knife with a ‘shlnk’, and pokes the plant, wordlessly examining the fluid
Ken (GM) the plant bleeds a runny red fluid, not too unlike blood itself. The veiny limb gushes until it seems to shrink, and as the red spills into the water about you, the rubbery appendage deflates visibly
Syviis Adjeon frowns “Less a vine, more a vein.”
Falkirk squats down, finding another fluidy shoot of the plant and experiments in de-rooting it without rupturing the contents
Ken (GM) the limb breaks off easily, and when you carefully detach it, it snaps off whole. Much like an obscene rhubarb stalk.
2:25 (To Falkirk): Perception roll for me?
2:25 Bomrek: Bomrek pointedly turns his gaze toward more mundane things, he sorts through his pack and grabs some traveling food. Hard Tack and something equally as hard.
2:25 (From Falkirk): 8v10 PER
Suðri Skornbrekker watches Falkirk’s antics with curiosity, but feels no desire to touch these things himself
2:27 (To Falkirk): The little spur of dry land this is on has a ring of grasses about the edge, at the water, but directly around the bloodroot is dead. Like a halo of blight originating at the roots. It’s as if the plant is sustaining itself on the surrounding plants…but there are no off-shoots into their roots physically.
2:27 (To Falkirk): It’s as if it drains life through magical unseen means
Falkirk nods slowly as he produces a large glass flask from his saddlebags, and inserts the plant bottom-first, before corking his large, living ‘sample’
2:30 Falkirk: “I think you might be right, master dwarf. There is more to this plant. I’ve been blinded by our situation…”
2:30 (From Syviis Adjeon): not sure how often to suggest Spooky Elf Knowledge, so let me know if you ever need me to try to come up with a tale or song.
2:30 (To Fiss): Oh hey, whenever you feel man. You dont have anything specific about the bloodroot, but let me know when inspiration strikes!
Falkirk continues the sentence, but it quickly falls into mumbling
2:30 Bomrek: “Doctor Bomrek, that’s my name, aye.” he says as he chews a hard piece of bread.
Suðri Skornbrekker strokes his beard in ponder-ance, and asks: “Are there any animals that subsist only on blood?” He pauses, then answers his own question: “Gnats, I suppose.”
2:32 Suðri Skornbrekker: “When we get back, we ought to trap a few of them in a glass with naught but the… sap of this bloodroot to drink. If they survive, it might well be real blood.”
2:32 Falkirk: “Ticks…”
2:32 Bomrek: “Gnats, mosquito bugs, lawyers, bats..” he lists them off on his fingers,
Suðri Skornbrekker nods
Falkirk gestured towards his saddlebags “Leeches.”
2:34 Suðri Skornbrekker: “If you can spare one or two, we could try this en-route to the tower even. …how do you usually feed them, if there are no patients around requiring them?”
Falkirk snaps up from examining his new pet plant, seemingly back in the room
2:34 Falkirk: “Erm… Leeches don’t require much blood at all.”
2:35 Bomrek: [at this point Falkirk opens up his robe to reveal 20 leaches attached to his torso, himself skin and bones. “I find my ways” lol]
2:35 Falkirk: “They’re small creatures, live for a very long time on very little blood.”
2:35 P.P. A.: kek
2:35 Falkirk: ahaha shit
2:35 Fiss: lol
2:35 Suðri Skornbrekker: “I see.”
2:35 Ken (GM): ugh 😛
2:35 Falkirk: “If it’s been a very long time, I can drop a frog or a rat in the jar, just to top up.”
2:36 Fiss: That’s 32 negative leech points.
2:36 Ken (GM): [AFAIK the leeches in your jar were fed on Suðri some days ago when you dressed his arm. Theyre pretty happy at the moment]
2:36 Falkirk: “Generally, keeping them hungry is what I want. The more they drink and the less blood is inside them already, the better.”
Syviis Adjeon smiles “I am all for keeping them hungry. Let’s slay our foes before medical attention is required. I think we can stop giving them a sporting chance.”
2:38 Falkirk: “Aye, well…”
Falkirk trails off, apparently bored of the conversation, and focuses back to his flask
2:39 Bomrek: “Aye, shoot first, loot the bodies later.”
Bomrek focuses a little attention to his flask, just a tiny nip, and then beds down for the night.
[I-It i-is night, r-right?]
2:40 Syviis Adjeon: We must think of the leeches, after all, we don’t want them to become addicted to addled blood.
Suðri Skornbrekker notices Bomrek
2:40 Ken (GM): [yes, night is falling, hence, making camp on the spur of rock]
2:41 Suðri Skornbrekker: “While we’re under the open sky and so the stench might evaporate, I’d prefer if you were useful if we were attacked again rather than emptying your stomach.”
2:41 Ken (GM): hah!
2:42 Falkirk: no chill
2:42 Ken (GM): savage
Suðri Skornbrekker had to sleep in that smelly tower, never again
2:42 Fiss: 
2:43 Bomrek: “Bah, this is nothing but a goodnight nip. I’ve drank more than this in church during communion. I’ll be straight as a musket shot, no problems.”
2:43 Suðri Skornbrekker: “Mhm,” Suðri answers unconvinced, making sure it really is but a nip—maybe a sip, but no big gulp.
2:43 (To Bomrek): Your body feels no urge to tie one on tonight at all, thank god. Still a bit stretched out from last night
Falkirk mutters something about muskets and gravity under his breath
Bomrek’s a tough sort when it comes to Alcohol, requires a lot to really knock him down.
2:45 Ken (GM): [and man, did he drink a lot last night!]
Bomrek falls asleep, assuming that since no watch concerns were voiced, that somebody else has’m
2:45 (To Bomrek): You did tie one on, drank like, a 40 oz by yourself over dinner. The urge was high
Ken (GM) Gray takes a watch, glad the dwarf is out without drink’s help tonight 😛
Suðri Skornbrekker splits the duty with Gray presumably
2:46 Ken (GM): [gm rolls menacing overnight dice]
[roll roll roll]
Ken (GM) as night falls, the sky opens into a black curtain pierced by countless shimmering stars. The wash of color in the heavens is a bright and dazzling display. As the moon rises gibbous and yellow, the only other light in the sky is the Volcano growling away to the Northwest. The wind dies down some overnight, but the cold persists. Mists rise from the waters, and the blanket of night wraps you in its embrace
Ken (GM) the watch changes hands uneventfully, and as morning rises, your horses whinny and shuffle, scraping for grasses on their island to eat. You notice, however, they seem to have made a meal of a nearby bloodroot plant. The bloody stump sits proud from their island, a ragged stump. Each of the horses are smeared with the red wine stain of bloodroot, about their hooves and muzzles…
2:50 Syviis Adjeon: I suppose it would have happened eventually, we should take care to watch their temperaments
Bomrek looks at the horses, and his face shows controlled anger. “Well, there goes our emergency food. No way am I eating these now.”
2:51 Ken (GM): DUN DUN DUN
2:51 Bomrek: I was thinking about that earlier, but thought “Naa, they won’t eat it, dumb horses haha”
but NOPE, they did
Falkirk is up quickly, packed and ready to go as soon as possible “Perhaps not a bad thing. If these horses go belly up, I want at least one autopsy.”
2:52 Bomrek: Remind me, what do we, as a group, know the bloodroot does to people who consume it?
It acts as some sort of addictive drug?
2:52 Falkirk: well, they were feeding something to the elves that was…but I think it was bloodroot mixed with shit
2:52 Bomrek: “It’ll pain me to have to shoot a horse, but I suppose if we must.”
2:52 Falkirk: whatever the dude with the cauldron was making. On its own we dont know
2:53 Syviis Adjeon: I had hoped the leeches would give us some clues before we had to resort to seeing the horses react to it.
2:53 Ken (GM): [as well, you passed that old beastman tribal who was making stuff back in the woods. He had the root boiling off in a pot too]
Falkirk makes sure to check his new sample in the morning
2:57 (To Falkirk): You find the sample of bloodvine healthy and plump, but the nearby jar of leeches seems quite still. The little things are pale and hardly moving, clinging to the far side of their jar, away from the roots
2:57 (To Falkirk): you also notice a kind of grimy pallor to the pack itself. Dusty, smelly. Almost dank
Falkirk experimentally plucks a leech from the jar, presenting the back of his left hand for it to feed
Ken (GM) the leech slithers about, and then does bite down. Slowly, color returns to the thing, but it remains smaller, limp, stunted
3:01 Falkirk: “I sure hope nobody is going to need a leeching for the next week.”
3:02 Suðri Skornbrekker: “We’ll find other ways to bleed I’m sure.”
3:03 Syviis Adjeon: “That’s never the problem, is it?” smiles and watches the experiment
3:04 Adolf S.: [“If my theories are correct, this leech should mutate into some sort of teenager who is amazing at martial arts, and lives in sewers”]
Falkirk opens the lid, plucking another limp, grey lump from the leech jar, and holding its mouth up to the stem of the plant
Ken (GM) the leech latches onto the plant quick as anything; as it latches on, it immediately regains it’s color and swells red-black.
3:06 (To Falkirk): perception! something tingly going on
3:06 (To Fiss): perception! something tingly going on with that leech Falkirk has
3:06 (From Falkirk): 16v10
3:06 (From Falkirk): welp
3:06 Syviis Adjeon: rolling 3d6
(6+6+5)=17
>_<
3:07 Falkirk: nice crit 😀
Suðri Skornbrekker watches, and does not like what he sees.
3:07 Syviis Adjeon: “Awww, it’s so cute!”
Ken (GM) Falkirk and Syviis exchange an odd look, as the leech continues to swell and grow from feeding on the vine. Neither seems to know what’s actually going on, but both seem disturbed by it
3:08 Bomrek: Syviis fails her roll to resist hugging dangerous bugs, I guess
3:08 Suðri Skornbrekker: “Now I know something I wish I hadn’t known until we had left this wretched land already.”
Falkirk does not intervene
3:08 Bomrek: “I doubt it’s wise to use that particular leech again, by the way.”
Suðri Skornbrekker nods.
3:08 Bomrek: “Er, on people, anyway”
3:09 Fiss: weaponized leeches!
Ken (GM) the leech drinks from the bloodroot until it has swelled up to the size of a small banana. It then detaches itself, dribbling the bloody juice from its sucker mouth.
3:10 Falkirk: “Well, isn’t that something..?”
3:10 Bomrek: “What about this is unusual exactly, Doctor?”
Bomrek ain’t no medic, are these things supposed to get this big
Falkirk points to the root
3:11 Falkirk: “That is a plant.”
Falkirk points to the corpulent leech
3:11 Falkirk: “That is a blood-sucking beast.”
Ken (GM) extremely corpulent…and turgid
Falkirk turns to Bomrek
3:12 Falkirk: “That plant is full of blood, for a start.”
3:12 Suðri Skornbrekker: “That is one question answered, and many new ones born.”
Suðri Skornbrekker furrows his brows.
3:12 Gray: Gray growls “And plants don’t bleed…”
Falkirk nods “Aye, that they don’t.”
3:13 (To Fiss): you have like, zero luck with knowledge checks..
3:13 (From Syviis Adjeon): all part of the game. 😛
Falkirk stands slowly, packing away his equipment and samples, loading the root at the rearmost part of the saddles and the leeches towards the horses’ neck. The turgid specimen is moved to its own jar.
3:14 Falkirk: “We’ve got a long journey and no time for curiosities. We’re ready to continue?”
3:15 Bomrek: “Aye, we are. Hopefully once we reach the tower, we can bombard this land with old Elf magics and be done with these horrors.”
3:15 Suðri Skornbrekker: “The sooner we’re done here, the better.”
Ken (GM) gray loudly nods
Ken (GM) The morning has risen cool and misty form the waters. The horses saddle up fine, their behavior not out of the ordinary…yet. Gray nuzzles with his a moment, seems to take a regard of it, a heart to heart, then he sets out south again, scenting the swirling air, plunging knee deep in the warm pools.
3:18 Falkirk: “If your horse goes down and it’s not coming up, I want help taking it to the nearest solid ground as quickly as we can, aye? Every second passed is an observation lost to time.”
3:20 Bomrek: “Lets hope it’s the lightest one that goes down, then.”
Ken (GM) The morning dawns brighter and brighter, and the sun eventually appears behind the horizon clouds and mists; the burning light warms you quickly, and the mists burn away. Soon, the warm light shimmers on the bog around you, revealing the horizon through the fog
Ken (GM) The south waters reach a cliffside ahead, and spires of rock again stretch up like broken teeth from a shattered jawbone. Gray stone spires and angular protrusions. The cliffs rise up to stone walls, with cascading waterfalls spilling over them to the bog below. The cascading water makes mist which shimmers in the light, spilling stark contrasting rainbows of color off the dreary stones…andabove them is the more awesome sight
The tower; carved from black stone and shining metal, it glints like some weird obelisk as it turns, floating in the sky, hovering above the rocky hills ahead. Even from here, some hours away from the walls, you see fat black chains of back metal, attached at points all over the spire, anchoring it and it’s mountain of stone to the earth below
Syviis Adjeon whispers something in elvish under her breath
3:25 Bomrek: Turns? Hovering? Literally, or do you mean that figuratively in some manner
Ah, nope, floating, gotcha.
3:26 Bomrek: Hm. This should be destroyed.
Remind me again, how much Magic has Bomrek seen in his homeland, anything akin tot his?
Ken (GM) lush green forest crests the hills. Wild jungle and greenery spilling over the tops of the cliffs. Mists and smoke rise op there, in the distance, on the edge.
3:28 Ken (GM): this is probably the most magical thing bomrek has ever seen, aside from the demons youve been fighting
Suðri Skornbrekker watches in awe.
Suðri Skornbrekker usually doesn’t like magic, but seeing such a massive structure suspended in mid-air needing to be chained to the ground lest it flies away, has him deeply impressed.
Bomrek is also awestruck, though he certainly doesn’t look happy about what he’s seeing. “How the hell is that thing still flying?”
3:30 (GM To Falkirk): magic
3:30 (GM To Fiss): magic
3:30 (From Syviis Adjeon): …. yes…yes it is….
3:31 Syviis Adjeon: “Magic…or the largest, angriest hornet’s nest ever.”
Falkirk attempts to whistle, but through the mask it comes out more as a raspberry
3:31 Ken (GM): [lol]
3:32 Falkirk: “Now that is impressive. Let’s see dwarves build one of those.”
3:32 Bomrek: “Why would we want to? No good comes from being that high up in the air, Falkirk.”
3:32 Suðri Skornbrekker: “Challenge accepted!”
3:32 Ken (GM): [inconsistent dwarves]
3:33 Bomrek: “Say, perhaps we could break the chains holding it down, and just sail it back home… surely there would be money to be made there.”
Falkirk glances at the elf
3:33 Falkirk: “That’s where we’ll find it?”
3:34 (To Fiss): Ancient elven knowledge doesn’t specifically describe a floating tower chained over the magical blasted wasteland…
Suðri Skornbrekker finds himself lost in thought: muskets produce a noticeable recoil, cannons an even greater one. Perhaps if one were to direct a giant barrel, or a multitude of them, towards the ground, and keep them firing perpetually, one could keep a structure afloat. Reloading would be difficult though.
Syviis Adjeon shakes her head. “I’m afraid this is not in the stories I know of… but If not, then we’ll see evidence of its work powering this place at the very least.”
3:35 Bomrek: Dwarves truly are the greatest race, we’ll reach the moon with our rockets, eventually.
While the elves are still in their shitty forests “man, look at this cool stick I found yesterday, wow”
3:36 P.P. A.: “put that down, that stick is sacred!”
3:36 Ken (GM): hah
3:37 (To Fiss): Drop me a hiddden elf lore roll?
3:37 Syviis Adjeon: rolling 3d6
(4+1+2)= 7
Falkirk nods slowly
3:38 Falkirk: “Something’s keeping this afloat. That something is going to be powerful. You think that elemental in the tower was noteworthy?”
Falkirk starts quietly reciting incantations
3:39 (To Fiss): So, the histories DO state that the Lords of Night housed themselves in a keep, hidden from prying eyes by magic. The specifics are lost to you, but this definitely does not fit anything you know for certain. Elven structures are not so…rough. Or metallic. There is often live wood incorporated…it’s just wrong. Not at all what you know it should look like
3:39 (To Falkirk): Magic knowledge rollin?
3:40 (From Falkirk): IQ plus talent?
3:40 Bomrek: “We’re going to need a bigger gun. Or some properly placed gunpowder charges”
3:41 (To Falkirk): yep
3:41 Syviis Adjeon: “What worries me is how decidedly…un-elven this keep is… If the Lords of Night are at the heart of this, I question what drastic designs changes they’ve done… perhaps this is less Elf and more Dwarf already, my ingenious friends.”
3:41 (From Falkirk): 11v13
3:41 (From Falkirk): *15
3:42 P.P. A.: The next step in our master plan should be crashing this tower with no survivors.
3:43 (To Falkirk): Something massively more powerful than a simple binding is working here. Powers of a hundred more. The mass itself, strictly speaking, is incredible. If Magic is explicitly doing this, it involves something like harnessing a hole in reality to another realm, and using THAT like a massive power source. Somehow…
3:43 (To Falkirk): This is nuclear-reactor-level power
3:44 Ken (GM): [why does everyone want to crash the flying tower of doom?]
3:44 Fiss: [who wouldn’t?]
Suðri Skornbrekker is wary of exploring the tower, but more than that curious. Perhaps they will find out what keeps it in the air.
Falkirk lifts his mask, looking up and down to take in the scale of the tower
Falkirk has a perturbed look on his face
3:46 Bomrek: Who are the lords of night again.
“More Dwarf?” Bomrek asks, turning to look at Suðri, expecting some professional opinion on that idea
Suðri Skornbrekker strokes his beard as he inspects the tower, trying to make out who could have built it.
3:48 Syviis Adjeon: “The Lords of Night, which the visitor we suspect a Vampire mentioned, were the elves who were left on this side of the border after the war… exiled so to speak, but partially due from necessity thanks to their involvement with the dark magics used.”
3:49 (To Bomrek): The lords of night were the spoopy mages who did the bad things in the last war. Syviis tells that they were a kind of dark cult, but theyre a forbidden subject back home. The dark spooky vamipre elf chick you guys met says she serves them. The minotaur last week told you they ‘rule here’ as princes of the barbarian hordes
3:49 Falkirk: “Elves…”
3:50 (To Suðri Skornbrekker): The construction looks blocky and angular from here. Metal spurs, and odd protruding formations on the construction. All very unnatural…and oddly familiar. Reminiscent of old dwarven designs, but still foreign.
3:50 Syviis Adjeon: “But the stories I know of them never indicated their penchant for forsaking all elvish ways…” points her bow at the floating stone and metal monstrosity “That, is decidedly not an elf stronghold.”
3:50 (To Suðri Skornbrekker): much like that old temple ruin; nearly-Dwarven work…but not the same
3:50 Bomrek: Does it look to be Dwarf make, GM-kun?
Suðri Skornbrekker squints and crosses his arms.
3:51 Suðri Skornbrekker: “It reminds me of the temple with the snake statues…”
3:51 Falkirk: “Old, then. Very old.”
3:52 Suðri Skornbrekker: “It could well be Dwarven, but… Who knows, perhaps a long-lost Dwarven culture.”
3:52 Ken (GM): [architecture confirmation via GM/Suðri :P]
Suðri Skornbrekker ponders for a while, but eventually gives up. No way to find out except by examining it more closely.
3:53 Bomrek: “Well, let’s get ready to honor our distant relatives then, Suðri.” Bomrek says, checking his firearms and prepping them.
Suðri Skornbrekker smiles, and likewise inspects his weapons.
Suðri Skornbrekker would love to be able to float that tower back to Glardenfen Keep.
3:54 Syviis Adjeon: “It’s impressive…just…seems distinctly out of place from anything I thought we’d see on this…” sighs “Then again… I suppose we really had no idea what to expect.”
3:54 Ken (GM): [its like…5 or 10 times the size of Glardenfen]
Allrighty! so, this looks like a good place to halt for the week (also, its now 4!)
so, take 4 XP, sorry again I was late starting us off
3:56 Fiss: domo domo!
3:56 Ken (GM): but huzzah! you have reached the tower where the fabled Ansible of Spirits lies!
3:57 Falkirk: oh ok cool
spooky shit
3:57 Ken (GM): I aim to spook
3:57 P.P. A.: Hopefully we can find the lever that makes the tower fly into space
3:58 Falkirk: tower falls out of the sky
3:58 Bomrek: And the lever that drops nukes, so we can nuke these Beastmen out of existence.
3:58 Falkirk: wrong lever, kronk
3:58 Bomrek: They’re different, TOO different, that means they need to be exterminated.
3:58 Falkirk: that film was a fucking trip
okay
let’s all agree in advance
if we find a way to hijack and control this tower
it’s our new mobile base of operations
agreed?
3:59 P.P. A.: yes.
3:59 Bomrek: Sounds like it’ll be expensive to power.
Magic don’t come from nothin’, y’know.
Don’t grow on trees.
3:59 Falkirk: nah it grows in roots
3:59 P.P. A.: “give us fuel or we will run out of it right on top of your city/castle”
4:00 Bomrek: Unless we kidnap magically inclined people, force feed them blood root drugs and speed, and just use them for magic until they wither and die.
Hm. Four additional points. What to do with these…
[Nod count; at least another 10…jesus]
The Gaming Musings of a Mad GM 
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