Journal Posts

"Do not meddle in the affairs of gods, for they are terrible, and swift to anger." never have those words held more meaning for me, then as my companions and I explore Ioun's Crystal Spire. We have only just begun our exploration and already we have encountered such terrors as I had never imagined, even in my darkest nightmares. I count it no shame to admit dread at facing such unnatural horrors, and I feel honored to be numbered among such heroes as would willingly face them.

Worst of all the nightmares we have encountered so far, are the corrupted remnants of another band of adventurers, the Stormcrows, who had entered the tower a few days before us. They were successful in their quest to capture the Tear of Ioun, and in their victory, they were destroyed. Once a proud band, known far and wide for their victories over the unnatural creatures that plague our land, now the Stormcrows are a twisted mirror of their former glory. Corrupted and ruined by the very treasure they sought. Already, we have been forced to slay three of their number, and I can only call it a mercy.

Even more troubling is the word that the unnatural creature which was once my brother Throvald, is also at the spire and also seeks the Tear. I tremble at the thought of the horrors he would unleash with such power. Gods grant me the opportunity and skill to destroy him once and for all.

Hope remains, as the Stormcrow Knight Denva, while corrupted, still holds to her humanity. Perhaps if we can succeed where she and her companions failed, her corruption can be removed. I fear it is but a faint hope.

So far, we have overcome all our foes with solid tactics and the blessings of the gods. It is a particular tribute to our companion Martouk, that we were even able to destroy a fearsome beholder in a resounding, if slow, victory. Two spells from him rendered the beholder unable to attack our party, and at the same time destroyed the creature. Never have I heard of a band as small as ours defeating a beholder without even a single casualty.

Bloody, but unbowed, we now search for a secure location within the spire, where we can rest and recoup our powers. Our spirits are high, and we ride the crest of our successes, yet I fear that we are becoming overconfident...

There are secrets in the Crystal Spire. Terrible dark secrets to be sure if the madness that overwhelmed tis poor teifling is any indication. When she was revived, there was a wile look in her eyes and a madness to her voice.

Teifling Warlock

You will never stop Malachai! We were chosen not you!

Paraphrased. Uncertain about the spelling.

Our battle with her was observed by a group of half-orcs. They confronted us afterwards, although it was obvious that they were not hostile. They are the inhabitants of the region surrounding the Crystal Spire. From them we learned that the teifling was part of another band of adventurers who entered the spire earlier. They were concerned that we would meet the same fate. We gave them our assurances and displayed bravado. They seemed skeptical, but let us pass.

When we arrived at the spire, I was moved by its size and beauty. Neglect and the ravages of time and nature, have taken their toll. Even a waterfall has eroded it's way through on one side. But despite that, this is still a place of formidable power and knowledge!

There was some sort of battlefield before the spire. The bodies of several grimlocks lay about. Before we had a chance to investigate, the bodies rose up and attacked us. Entrails flailing about, grabbing at my companions. To make things worse, these horrible ghouls came out of nowhere with mouths in their stomach tearing at anyone unlucky enough to be distracted by the zombies. We defeated the ghouls and zombies without too much effort, but it does not bode well for what we will find inside the spire.

Five of the eight great stone sentries still stood before its gate. If my memory serves (and it always does), these statues could be brought to life to defend the spire by placing an ioun stone inside it. What I would give to be in possession of such an artifact. Or to obtain the services of such a powerful golem.

Before entering the spire, my companions spotted a nearby cave. Although it doesn't look to be connected to the spire, it would provide cover for an ambush. Indeed, the cave contained several horrible aberrations that took nearly all of us by surprise. My Dimension Door came in handy again, taking me above the creatures to rain death down on them from a safe distance. We have encountered foulspawn like these before: manglers, berserkers, a hulk and a seer. The battle eventually went our way, but not without great effort. I fear we may have to recouperate before going back the the Crystal Spire.

Thar's a pretty goode library in the Mirti's estate. The boys 'ave been readin thar fill. One 'o them - I ferget which - came across a journal writen by Giaus hisself. (pretty flowery handwritin fer such a bastard). The boys seem ta think he may be aheaded to this place called the Crystal Spire in search 'o a magic tear. (wait, what?) 'N he's gonna use it to let the Chained God out. Ya know - the god so nut-balled that every other god, good 'er bad, joined in ta lock 'im away. ('frickin mud heads fer followers, he 'as...)

So, this tear, ah, thing, is a gift from tha goddess Ioun, and it has some knowlege of, ...things, inside it. I can't say I understand it all, but it seems a goode a lead as any. So we help ourselves to some horses and were off.

We get to tha town near the Spire. W'er expectin ta find some pilgrims hanging about there. Twas a place of importance to tha followers of Ioun. Appearently the Crystal Spire is all locked up tight fer years 'n years, and we'll 'ave to figure a way o breakin in. Maybe we 'kin get some clues, or what have ya, from the locals.

When we get to tha town tho, thar was a big commotion. People were running and screaming. I think we're in tha right place.

Turns out there were Grells tearing up the town. Big brains with beaks and tenticles. Frickin disgusin. Not even good meats. Twas quite a disturbing battle, but we put them down. They really mess with yer head, them Grells. My brain-pan hurt for quite a bit after. I'm sorry to say some o the towns folk didn't make it (but none 'o them were accidentally kilt by us, thank the stone).

A cleric lookin' lass came ta speak with us after the battle. Her name was Dierdra 'n she asked us 'fer help. Tha' happins a lot after we rush in 'n kill monsters. I guess we look like professionals. hmph. 'N I guess we are now. I always wanted ta be a cook - funny whar life takes ya...

She thinks the trouble are not endin' with the dead Grells. She thinks someone is tryin' to get in the tower - or maybe already has. We tell 'er we think we know who, 'n are here ta stop 'im. Turns out, she has a way to let us in... But she has ta lock us in. nice. I guess that's settled then. Kinda dissapointed we didna have ta buy a few drinks in the Inn ta find what we were lookin for... Ah well. We'll go inna morning, and I 'kin still find myself an ale tonight. Hope it wasn'a the bartender that got kilt.

The next morning we headed off ta tha spire. Thar was an ambush on tha way. I was a leetle surprised, but I shouldna been. Quite a battle, with some beefy fellas, and this crazy teifling lass with a face full 'o scars. She was a mud-head fer sure.

Caladath did a new trick. Twas disturbing, but - I think I like it. I felt - strong... 'an I hit like a fireball. The other's gave me some funny looks - wait - did I have a tail?...
ah well, I jes go with it. I's walkin' death fer a bit, 'n that was right fun.

The damn crazy cleric blinded me tho, right when I was gonna split 'er open. I heard the others surround her, and lot's of magiks going off. Then, it got real quite. Dammit. I missed the end of tha battle. When I could see again, the teifling cleric was on the ground. Looks like she's still breathin' though. Kinda surprised at that, but I suppose it's a goode idea to see if she'll talk 'for we kill 'er.

We are going to kill 'er, right? She's bat shit crazy - the kind o crazy that there's no comin back from...

We still dinna know where Gaius went, but he lef his house behind. An seein' how he's not using it, and we went ta all the trouble of cleanin out the undead, we figured we just settle in fer a spell.

Wha I really think this place needs is a foodgerator. The kitchen is a good size, 'n the dining hall will do nicely, but it needs a good place to put the rare meats (wink wink). Iffin ya want the meats to really last, what ya need is a good freeze! But Martouk is bein' a bit of an arse about the whole thing. Alla I was askin fer was one good freezin spell. I'll get some dwarf-kin to make a good stone cave, so if we keep the door shut, it'll stay frozen fer a good long time... but nooooo... pointy ears is too good for a "domestic magiks". bah. Let 'is highness make 'is own supper. He's not gettin' my cookin!

At least some o tha locals gave me a hand with cleanin out the kitchen. Skittish things tho. Took 'em all day ta get up tha nerve to tell us that their town was in touble. (These folks give me a bit o the creeps - all bowin in scraping. No self-respect I tell ya.)

We go check it out 'cuz - well, we're jes like that.
And o'COURSE the town is bein over run by zombies... son of a... bleedin... (We ever gonna hunt something livin?!?! Haven't had a decent steak in dogs age...)

By the stone there were a lot o' them. Turns out Gaius visited town 'fore he left, and set up a trap. We ended up barracadin' ourselfs in the Pelor temple while zomblie EVERYTHIN tried ta get in. Twas the only building in town with walls worth a darn. The irony didna escape us.

Twas wonna them magik books at the center o the trouble. The spell boys waved their arms 'n such but could'na undo wha was done. In the end we jest hacked it up. In my experince, that's usually the solution with evil 'n such.

With tha over, Now the gang is talkin of havin Fair or somthin. Sounds like a bit o fun, but I dinna know if these folks would jes hide at the first song. Mebbe with some ale- Did'na I hear tell they make good ale in these parts? Thars the sparkle! A beer tent'll fix a smile on thar faces.

Heh. I think they're callin it Kravaxsaar day... Now there's a feller I'd like to see get a good drunk on. Betcha he belches fire. (oh, 'n Someone made mention of Dwarf tossin. If they try they'll learn isna tha throw they'll regret, it's what'll happen when I land...)

After tha, I wouldna mind iffin we go find us that last Mirti... I know he's not stayin idle while we eat.

Caledath;2225

Now that I think of it Martouk vaguely resembles my feysworn Mistress. I wonder if we might be related?

You take that BACK!!

This party is like the United Colors of Bennetton for D&D.

Just as I thought the peasants were finally giving this Eladrin the respect he deserves, it turns out they were just frightened of the zombies.
Normally, I would have written off such feeble zombies as nothing more than a nuisance. However, one peasant mentioned Gaius Mirti had performed some dark ritual in the temple at the center of their village.
Indeed, upon entering the temple of Pelor, we found that the priest had been slain and an enormous, evil tome lay on the alter pulsating with evil power. Most of the villagers had gathered in the temple but were afraid to approach the alter. Hesitant to approach myself, I attempted to close the book with magic, but it was too massive to do so.
We asked the villagers to leave for their own safety. They finally did, but only after some "convincing" from Kravaxsaar. Caledath and I studied the tome, our sanity tested with each turn of the page. I was intrigued, fascinated by the secrets and power that lay within, but there was no time to study or unlock those secrets. Already the peasants were desperately pounding on the temple doors. When we opened the doors to let them in, my, and Caledath's fears were confirmed: Every corpse of every creature within miles of here had risen from their resting places and were descending on the book.
There was no way to escape at this point. We watched as a poor dog tried to escape between the growing hoards of skeletons and zombies only to meet a grizzly fate at the jaws of some enormous skeleton... The temple was the most solid and secure structure around, so it made sense to barricade ourselves inside while we try to stop the magic that animated the dead.
Being in the house of Pelor, I beseeched the god for help while Caledath attempted to wrest control of the spell from the book. Meanwhile, all manner of zombies were crashing through windows, doors, and even tunneling from below. Veera did her best to fortify openings, directing villagers to move the pews and bookcases where needed. Ia, Sevrid and Kravaxsaar held off the zombies that breeched those barriers.
In the end, regretfully, the tome had to be destroyed. All that power and knowledge lost. Despite the malevolent sentience within it, I believe I could have mastered it with time.
Only after destroying the tome did the magic possessing the corpses recede, but not before Thorvald crashed through the window seeking revenge. Once again, he proved no match for his brother, even amidst all the zombies we were still fighting off. Unfortunately, Thorvald escaped again, turning into his gaseous form and flying out through the night.

This unbound (and largely unorganized) stack of tattered papers is held together in a worn, leather book cover the title of which reads:
“Purple Musings, Green Thoughts & Rainbow Dreams”
By: Caledath Berbani, Feysworn
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Day 2 of this false slavery! Little do these foul creatures know that it is I who am the master here and that this is just the first step towards achieving my goal. Soon I shall make them all my pawns and, should they not grovel at my feet, they shall know the wrath of Caledath!

Day 257 of this false slavery! My once grandious dreams of mastery have been replaced by the daily drudgery of doing dishes, folding clothes and performing in this ridiculous “Simple Jack” play. Perhaps I should have thought about Step 2 of my grand plan before getting started….

Day 305 of this false slavery! There is so little to do in this hellhole other than work, work, work. Don’t they know that all I want to do is sing! My goodness, I think I may be a bit mentally unbalanced. Tee-hee. I think this tune in my head needs just a little more cowbell. Yes, now its perfect…..

Day 432 of this false slavery! There are precisely 6832 distinct cracks in the western wall of my cell. Shall I count them again? One, two, three…What is that racket outside my room?

Day 432.5 - It’s a sunshine day!!!!!!! Free at last!!! I wish my Mistress (what was her name again?) could have sent a better looking bunch. A dwarven chef? A walking bicep? Surely I deserve something more dignified than this group. Oh well at least I can finish that thing I was supposed to do. Hmmm…..

Day 440 – So much blood. That spatter looks like a butterfly, that one like a tree and that one like my dog Old Feller (may he rest in peace). At least my tormentors are no more. My new companions have indeed proven to be useful. Perhaps I shall allow them to accompany me for a time.

Day 450 – Paldimar. Was he the one? I hope not because now he’s dead. Not just a little dead mind you but the kind of dead you don’t come back from. My colleagues may not be pretty but they are effective. Now why do I have a sudden taste for snails?

Day 453 – We’ve been invited to a celebration this evening. Hopefully I can finish my song before then. If I could only finish this line - We’re gonna party like….. it’s Hammer Time? A tribe of butterflies? 3.1415? No, no, no….

Day 453.5 – Worst. Party. Ever.

Day 455 – Why can’t I remember what I was supposed to do????

Day 456 – Heading off with my peeps to the Museum of Karavakos. I love Museums!

Day 458 - Met one of Martouk's sons but he died. Bummer. Now that I think of it Martouk vaguely resembles my feysworn Mistress. I wonder if we might be related?

Day 459 – I think my friends tricked me. This Museum was full of dead things but not the dead kind of dead things. The, umm, de-dead kind of things. Mummy’s, flying skulls, vampires, demi-gods, etc. I prefer it when the dead don’t move around so much. Still, the Museum was fairly interesting and I think that Sevrid was pleased that his brother is no longer dead-dead. Seems like they still have a few things to talk about.

Day 465 – We decided to visit the Mirti castle as honored guests. Kind of a gloomy place but it is nice to have my own room for a change. That dragon-dude farts a lot when he sleeps and Iä’s snoring could wake He Who Shall Not Be Named. Very excited for tonight’s dinner party - I love parties!

Day 466? – Oh my what a hangover. Not sure what that drink was but it must have been good cause this place it totally trashed. Reminds me of that time Crazy Bob stole the cow…..Anyway, where did my pals run off to….

Day 470-something – Interesting week or so. Briefly communed through portal with a God chained in the Dark Realm (I think he wanted to tell me something – must follow up). Fell through collapsed floor into cavern of talking mushroom men (thought I was crazy for a minute there). Engaged in some political intrigue worthy of the Fey court with the local power brokers. Overthrew tyranny & righted injustice. Just another day at the office. Can we please find the sun now?

Day 490 – Ah fresh air! Rainbows and butterflies abound. We have collectively (well it was really my idea) decided to take the now-vacant Mirti estate as our own. Should be easy now that its empty. Can’t wait to try and rebuild that shattered portal. The chained God seemed nice.

Day 495 – Well that was certainly depressing. Squire-boy falls in love with servant girl. Manor lord also falls in love with servant girl. Servant girl loves squire-boy. Manor lord jealous and rapes (totally uncool dude, try flowers) servant girl. Squire boy defends girls honor by dueling manor lord and has him dead to rights but nooooooo, lord pledges allegiance to dark forces, turns de-dead and kills squire boy. Servant girl kills herself. Now everyone is a ghost or undead (Iä insists this is the correct term) and of course we have to clean up the mess. Well at least it is done. Now I shall write a song to celebrate the founding of the great Duchy of Caledath.

Day 498 - For some reason the villagers don’t really seem all that excited about the new Duchy. Hopefully things will improve once we have the first annual Kravaxsar Day Fair.

Day 500 – Guess what???? Yes MOAR undead. Turns out that Mr. Mirti did this little ritual thing that made not just a few undead, but a whole shitload of undead (including Sevrid’s brother Thorvald) come attack the village. I really think those two need to see a therapist because they have some serious issues. Needless to say Lord Caledath and his royal guard succeeded in disrupting the ritual and fending off the threat. I swear if I see any more undead I will be forced to burninate something. Note – DO NOT invite Thorvald to Kravaxsar Day Fair.

We have not been here long, but already I am longing for the tall trees and running waters of the Twilight Forest. I am not easily given over to home sickness (not that I consider the Twilight Forest my true home).

Perhaps it was encountering Aron after so many years. My long absence is surely at the heart of his and his brother's straying from the path of reason and logic... It's been days since that encounter and still my mind drifts towards these thoughts.

Perhaps it was spending all that time in the Underdark with mushrooms and drow. Just thinking of that makes me sick. My biggest regret was not burning every drow in that place to ash. Maybe someday, when I'm more powerful, I shall return to complete that work.

Perhaps it's this damnable Mirti estate. With it's cold stones, ghosts and vampires. No sky overhead or leaves under foot. I'll never understand my companions excitement for reclaiming such a place. There is certainly knowledge to be gained and power to claim, but they are more interested in collecting taxes, trading with Duran Keep and trying to restore it to its former glory.

No, it's none of these things! They are merely distractions from my true path. I have already amassed considerable power while traveling with the group from Duran Keep. My companions are the adventuring types. They will get bored with managing a castle. Besides, there is unfinished business to attend. Gaius Mirti and Thorvald are still running around in the wild. They are as good an excuse as any to try out some of my new spells.

So… here we are und’r the Mirti Estate, ‘bout to smoosh us a mindflayer until he’s goo… and ah’m realizing that I skipped a bit in tha journal here. Les back up fer a mom’nt. He’ll wait – he’s trapped inna bubble.

When we finished with tha Minatour-House silliness, we found the last ‘o the Duran Keep folks and sent ‘em packin’ fer home. But, the mages o’ the Thunderspire Labyrinth still wanted us ta find tha Paldemar character. We did. He’s deed. We got paid. ‘nuff said. (really. Tis a shady place. You don’t go a blabbin about what goes on in thar)

We head’ed back fer Duran, and boy did they put onn’a show fer us – folk line’in tha streetz cherrin us on. There waz a big ‘ol banquet ‘n food as far as the eye kin see. ‘Course I kin barely see o’er the table so twaz a beeeutiful view. We was like royalty!

Dinner was a bit spoilt tho. There twas a windbag at dinner – called his’self Gaius Mirti. I dinna go in much fer the poloticks of the humans, but it’s a nice leelte town they has here. Now this Gaius seems ta be hornin’ in on the place. It’ll go all ta hell if tha happnz. Not reely my biznez, but be a shame non tha less.

Och – and then Severid’s brother showed up ‘n tried to killim durin dinner. Tha was a bit akward.

Thorobald, or was it Thorovald? got his’self kilt on ‘is own brother’s sword. Cheerin' Sevrid on would na be'in the best o taste, at that moment.
(Truth be told, I dinna see any particular family resemb’lance, but then all’a ‘em humans look alike ta me. Don’t tell ‘em though...)
The rest’o us ‘n the guards mopped up the o’ter crew he brought. Och, ‘n I guess the windbag can swing a sword – took on’a few o’ the barbarian’s his’self.

The day went from excitin’ to ominus. I swore I saw someone up’in the walls, but all we found thar waz a black feather. Then tha o’ter shoe dropped. Seems ta be some trouble inna farmin area with tha undead walkin about. We figure where ta start pretty quick. Tis a suspicious soundin place onna map, right near the Mirti estate, and near tha farms ‘n such. (Heh. It doesn’a surprise me. ‘member tha guy’s son wa that Red Lady worship’er? don’t trust ‘em, I says!)

We had full bellies, ‘n some new horses, and off we a went to tha tomb of a Teiflin’ called Karavakos. Didn’t know ‘im mi’self, but he sounds lik’a right bastard. They kilt 101 o’ his own just ta bury wit im. (Waz ‘e scared o tha dark or somethin?) The place waz ‘supposed ta be real fancy – they’re were callin it a Maws-o-leeum. And sure e’nuf – there waz dead things walkin around innit.

--Oh – befor I ferget - we happin’d upon Martouk’s boy out inna woods. (same problem wit’ the elves like wit’ tha humans… only it’s even harder when the Da looks ta be the same age as tha Son. Short-lived humans are easier tha way.) I think they hadda dissagreemen’ about poloticks. Lotta tha goin’ round now’a’days.

So back to the Maws-o-leeum, ‘n the dead things walkin’ around. We re-kilt ‘em. Sounds simple but it wazn’t. There was some alive folks in there doin’ them evil rituals that cause all kinds o’ trouble. ‘N guess wha we caught ‘em doin?... naw – guess!

THEY WAS RAISIN’ THOROBLAD (I mean Thorovald) AS A VAMPIRE! Sweet diamonds on’na shovel. What crazy kinda family does our boy Severid come from? But tha’s na the weird part. So Thorovald gets up ‘n twas a right tough bastard from the start, but he dinna last long. Karavakos his’self rolled o’ver in ‘is grave ‘n told him ta get tha hell out. Blew ‘im right away. ‘Pears he did’na like the evil things happenin in his grave. Who knew?

So this Karavakos fella sees our Dragin’born in ‘is Maws-o-leeum, right alongside our Teeflin, ‘n want’s ta know tha year. The two ‘o them fill in Karavakos ‘bout how their long war brought tha nations ta ruin. He looked pretty tired after he heard tha – tired even fer a ghost. He said we could ‘ave ‘is stuff if we locked tha door’n the way out, so no one could get back in. That was nice ‘o him I guess. Still stupid that he kilt 101 soldiers ta sleep wit, though…

So now wha, we says? Well Thorobald – vald is’na dead (or re-dead – wha ever), ‘n he’ll be needin a grave. So, we went’n checked ‘is. It was empty ‘course.

We’re alla us (‘cept maybe Martouk) thinking the Mirti’s are probly upta somthin, so we head ta tha estate for a visit. We say we’re thar to warn’em about the big bad vampire, but really, we’re thinkin’ Thorab-vald is hangin out thar. Over dinn’r, Giaus tells us tale about some old crypts unner tha estate he’s never found an entrance too… K. well then, we found ‘em no problem. Och – but not b’fore the vampires attacked.

Ya, right aft’r Giaus left tha dinn’r table, we all started a feelin woozy ‘cept fer Severid. (He’s gotta amulet). Then these a laydees comma floatin in. Yep – they’r vampires. We kilt ‘em. Again.

Turns out tha whole place was overrun wit em all'ava sudden. Dunno where Giaus went, but we went down inna catacombs. We fought some monsters – they weren’t dead though – tha was a nice change’o pace… They seem ‘ta be protectin this creature inna bubble in tha back o the last room…

Remember that dragon from the ‘misbled’ well of demons? She really saw no sense in that thing going to waste, and Veera has concocted her best recipe evar. You’re all invited to dinner...

Slow Roast Cajun Wyvrn
4 lbs boneless Wyvrn roast
1 lb of assorted roote vegitales, cubed
3 Teeflin’ pepperz, minced
Dash of gound firebeetle shellz
2 heaping spoonfuls of Veera’s seekret seas-o-nin blend
1/2 bottle 'o wisky
1 cup of water
10 cave shrooms

Better to start inna morning, lessen ye want to eat at midnite. Get a good kettle hanging over a hot fire. Indoors or out don’t make no matter, jes keep the fire on.

Pour in the wisky (if ya don’t have the good aim with the pouring, do this before ye light the fire), and water. Set in the roast, with the roote vegitales surroundin’ it like goblinz around a stray dog. Sprinkle the minced pepperz, ground firebeetlez, and seas-o-nin blend about, and put the lid o top.

Let it cook all day, ‘n add the shrooms about midday. Keep tha lid on or it’ll be dryer than yer ma’s elbows.

When the group is gathered and mutterin about “how goode it smells”, and “when’s dinner” ‘n such, make ‘em wait jes a touch longer, until thar reeeely good ‘n hungry. Cut up the meat in the kettle, and serve in big bowls with a hunk ‘o hearty bread.

When they’re almos done – jes a few bites left – thas when ya tell’em it’s Wyvrn.

-Veera