Maran 1-4, 653 DR. Returning to the inn, the group encounters a tentacled sentinel standing outside the building. The next day, at another inn, the same sentinel kills a man in the street. No one else seems to see the armored creature. Passage on a boat heading upriver is bought. Gliding monsters attack the eastbound ship, killing two soldiers. In Zembra, rooms are bought for the group while Vorén finds help and advice in dark places.
Continued from Mound of Izzàradràgulð.
Aldor, 1 Maran 653
Returning to the inn on the south shore a figure was noticed standing near the door to the building. The armored man stood still and silent, watching the stragglers move through the benighted street from behind a faceless helmet. Three tentacles swayed slowly from beneath the eyeless helm. A long curved sword was held between gauntleted hands, its tip on the smooth wet cobbles. Not everyone saw the swordsman at first, for he blended into the walls, the street, and the night around him. His mirrored armor and weapon didn’t reflect so much as absorb his surroundings. Uninterested in dealing with the stranger, Vorén circled the inn, and climbed in through a second-story window to retrieve those things the party had left before seeking Izzàradràgulð. Securing their possessions, the nimble rogue dropped to the street and they continued to another inn.
After Zuroolly had haggled with Essar for rooms at the Shūdaj Màrkirar, Vorén left his companions to seek audience with Mizzèrim of Skardàlðir. Vorén spoke at length with his sponsor. In time, Mizzèrim produced a book of sigils and found the one needed to find their brethren in the easterly port of Zembra.
They slept fitfully, the resounding voice of the Dragul still fresh in their minds. Those that dreamt found the words more vivid and more difficult to awake from. The barbarian Silda tossed and turned in her sleep, for her dreams were filled with the gnashing of thousands of teeth and the shrill clawing of dark creatures, the demons of Daggon. Somewhere behind those monsters a person was screaming horribly, trying desperately to reach Silda, but being dragged back again and again into the Dagàri swarm. Silda awoke after a time, sweating and unrested. Something was very wrong.
Kændor, 2 Maran 653
Zuroolly left in the morning to retrieve the snakeskin belt and vest he’d commissioned days before. Returning to the Shūdaj Màrkirar he found the armored sentinel standing outside the inn, waiting impassively, inverted sword still grasp in gauntleted hands. Carefully, he made his way past the strange guardian and into the inn. Inside, he gave Ferveo the vest, fashioned from the giant snake that Ferveo had killed on the slopes of the Old City. Outside a man yelled in surprise and fear. Ferveo and Zuroolly raced toward the door to see the spectral guardian, two handed sword above his head bearing down upon a man in the street. The man was sitting and scooting backward across the mud and cobbles as quickly as he could manage, staring fearfully at the air before him. On the surrounding street, a crowd gathered to watch the panicking man, wondering what madness gripped him; another of Daggon’s children. Then the crowd gasped as the man’s chest opened from an invisible swing. Ferveo and Zuroolly watched in awe as the large curved sword cut down and through the man’s chest, leaving him dead in the street, a dagger skittering across the round wet stones. It was now obvious that they alone could see the armored sentinel. The thing stood for a moment over the body then resumed its vigil by the inn door. As more pushed toward the door of the inn, Zuroolly moved backward and fashioned an unseen servant which darted into the street to claim the fallen dagger. As the dagger lifted into the air a boy grabbed the knife and began pulling. The crowd gasped again, as they watched the young boy being dragged toward the inn by the small blade. Somewhere a woman cried out “Esha, let it go!” but the boy would have none of it, being dragged to the inn’s threshold. Finally, Zuroolly’s servant released its hold on the dagger, sending the young boy falling back into the street. Young Esha stood and raced through the crowds with his new treasure.
As evening came, Vorén found his way back to the inn and again spied the sentinel outside the door. Warily, the Neveren approached the figure and tried to talk to him. At first the armored figure did not respond, but finally the tentacles shook and a garbled voice came forth, “Içòrō gol adòrçok yorl valkòrið nā”. It was no language he’d ever heard. He tried to communicate further but the figure only repeated his strange words. Inside the inn, Vorén found the others waiting for him. They exchanged what they knew of the tentacled sentry outside and decided that instead of it being a guard for some rich boarder, that it might be here to protect them. Before leaving, Vorén crossed town to speak with Arūn and updated him what he’d learned of the missing Nūð.
That night found them at the docks below the Old City, where men and Nūð loaded and unloaded ships throughout nightsdeep. At the piers they asked someone how they might find passage to Zembra and were directed to a nearby tavern and told to speak with Captain Iríven. They found the white-tattooed captain drinking a foul concoction that steamed and bubbled. Before the man would speak with Zuroolly he was instructed to drink one of the gut-busting drinks. Zuroolly started with a sip, but finally downed the awful dram. His stomach drummed within him, and for the evening’s remainder he felt sure he would taste it again. Vorén ordered one as well, and downed it. Iríven told the group that he didn’t much need guards to reach Zembra, but that he could take a few paying passengers that far. They further learned that he would be continuing from Zembra to Alèlim a few days after reaching Zembra. He would be returning from Alèlim though, since the river was unnavigable beyond that city.
Malor, 3 Maran 653
Early the next morning, as dawn peered through the shutters of the tap room, a sailor came in and woke the captain. The ship was loaded and it was time to leave. Vorén pulled his gloves on and drew his heavy cloak tight around him as they headed out into the street. At the docks they found some men checking knots and lines. The group was led below deck to the storage area where four hammocks were being strung at the room’s end. This would be their accommodations for the next couple days. Soon, the sailors pushed the ship out from the docks with long-oars and paddled the boat out into the Run Sùlūð. Once they were free from the shores and traffic, the sail was raised and the sea wind pushed them upriver. The day passed uneventfully. Those that stood on the deck watched the jungles passing in the distance to either side. On the southern shore rose giant trees, whose roots tumbled down into the river. A road, cut from the cliffs on that shore was covered by the cascading roots. The forests were alive with calling animals, monkeys, birds, and the roar of an occasional predator.
As night drew nearer strange sounds issued from the dark jungles depths. At one point a terrible howling echoed from the darkness, silencing all other sounds.
Late that night, those on deck saw some wavering round shapes leave the tree tops and begin gliding down toward the ship. Silda held her sword in her hands, waiting for the things to come near. The sailors yelled “kambèrad!” as the rubbery tendriled creatures glided down toward the ship. Two of the creatures wrapped themselves around sailors, then using their radial tendrils to constrict the breath and crush the bones of their trapped prey. Others flapped and spun in the air, trying to wrap their disc-shaped bodies around another victim. Soon the monsters were dead and with them two sailors, their heads, arms and legs broken. Iríven emerged from below deck cursing. He ordered the sailors’ bodies be tossed overboard, which they were, and then asked Silda and Ferveo to help man the oars. The dazed Silda, who had not rested in days, stood dumbly staring at the sword Izzàradràgulð had given her. Zuroolly asked her what was wrong. She explained that during the fight the sword had grown very hot to the touch, except for the handle. Zuroolly tested this and pulled back a burnt finger.
Amor, 4 Maran 653
When morning came, Silda was relieved from duty so that she could sleep below. Those that stopped by to see how she was doing found her tossing and turning in her hammock, muttering in her native language. A language no-one there knew. When she awoke much later, she couldn’t describe what she had been dreaming, but from the look in her eyes all knew that something was very wrong. Iríven spoke with Zuroolly for a moment on the condition of the barbarian woman. He told him that Daggon did not favor the northern woman, and that the deeper she moved into the Dreamlands, the worse her condition would become. She needed to find a priest of Sūdul so that her suffering could be eased. Perhaps a Dreamer could discover the reason that Daggon preys on her so mercilessly.
Late that evening, they could see the lantern lights of Zembra’s port far ahead. Fishing and house boats were moored along the riverside, and anchored in the river deeps, so approaching the city required maneuvering with oars through the dark. As they neared, the city rose before them. It was not as large as Jædð but the buildings crowded closer. The houses were built from timber and plaster and the roofs were tiles or woven leafs. Most of the streets were covered with thatch on wooden frames. Scattered throughout the city, rising above the low roofs were five white towers of similar construction, seemingly unstained by the unwashed city at their feet. As the ship pulled into port, some men threw a mooring rope and pulled them against the pier. The captain explained that if they wanted to continue to Alèlim he could use some strong arms and swords but if they did not he would seek replacements for the sailors he’d lost. They bid him farewell and entered Zembra.
Soon they found (or were found by) an armored sentinel, identical to the one they’d left behind in Jædð. The armored creature’s tentacles shivered and it beckoned for them to follow. The guardian led them to a nicely appointed inn and slapped some tala on the counter to pay for their rooms. Girdin the innkeeper looked up with surprise, having only seen the gold appear. They were promptly escorted to rooms.
That night, Vorén left the inn to search through the covered streets. After many hours he finally found the symbol he was seeking on a cornerstone. He turned and entered an alley. He found a door with the same sigil carved into the base of the door’s jamb. He knocked, explaining that he was a student of Mizzèrim. Let inside, the door closed behind and he was questioned extensively. When their curiosities were sated, he was allowed to ask questions of his own. Without going into detail he explained that he was searching for a 12 year old girl that had disappeared. Their responses indicated he had to explain no further. He learned that Rallēa had been staying with family in Zembra at the royal manor to the north of the city. Several days ago she’d disappeared. Someone searching for the young heiress would be best suited to begin at Kurum Adjàdâr. Before leaving the Cult, the priestess Dalmìra placed the blessing of Semàtir upon his new follower. Vorén left the dark place and headed across town to find the royal manor.
Continued in Voice from Beyond the Veil.
- Ferveo Cælestis
- Talôr Dal-Vorenen
- Silda of Wurm
- Zuroolly Hicubaba
- Rallēa Adjàdâr
- Essar (Innkeeper, Shūdaj Màrkirar)
- Dalmìra of Semàtir (Zembri Priestess)
- Esha (Boy)
- Girdin (Zembri Innkeeper)
- Iríven (Ship’s Captain)
- Arūn Karçur
- Mizzèrim of Skardàlðir
- Morgōmir (Paladin): killed
- Torjad
- Virídtis
Played: 18 May 2001