SESSION 7 - THE MIDNIGHT MASSACRES

The party is summoned to attend Lemminkainen Meade, the Lord of Logash, at the Town Hall of Logash around noon. When they assemble, they see that Naissa and Emune are there, also. Lord Meade tells them that a series of murders that have occurred in the part of town referred to among the locals as the “gypsy run,” a route along Mud Alley from the docks to one of the gates leading out of town. The murders have occurred on each of the two previous nights of the full moon, and the victims have all been known or suspected affiliates of the travellers that frequent the area. The victims also appeared to have been mauled by a wild beast.

Naissa then explains that it is her belief that supernatural forces may be invlolved- the beast-like attacks, the full moon- lycanthropes! She says wolfsbane might cure the afflicted if he or she could be made to consume the plant, but that they might also perish from the poison. Because of all the rumors, she is currently sold out of wolfsbane, but tells the party where they can go outside of town to harvest it fresh. The group is then charged by Lord Meade with putting a halt to these events and bringing those responsible to justice, dead or alive!

The party first goes to Naissa’s tower, where she tells them all she knows about were-creatures, including their vulnerability to silver. She offers the group the use of several . . . ‘implements’ either made of silver or laced with silver- a slender stiletto, a pair of long needles, a leather scourge tipped with silver barbs Naissa describes as ‘exquisite,’ and several other items the party declines to use.

In order to cover more ground they split up, and the half-orcs leave for the woods to gather the plants, while the others investigate clues to the murders. They begin by seeking out Madame Eva’s caravan, which is now camped outside of town, in order to consort with the gypsy wise woman. Upon meeting with her, they closely question her and her oldest son Sandor, and are able to learn important information.

They learn that Madame Eva believes the killer to be her youngest son, Balint. Balint has gone missing, and some dark shroud has covered his aura, and no divination she has cast has helped. She fears a great, dark curse has been laid upon her son, a moon curse that has not been bestowed in generations. She believes the curse is driving him to attack the only rivals the Meszaros have in the north- the Zsoldos clan- and driving Balint to seek out his closest rival, Anatal Zsoldos, in particular. All the victims have been smuggling associates of Antal. She believes there can be no other explanation.

Balint Meszaros

Madame Eva implores the party to save her son from doom, as she in turn had saved Donaghast from the darkness. They agree to use the wolfsbane to try to cure Balint, and depart for the town guard barracks to continue their investigation. Lorde Meade told them that the basement of the barracks was serving as a makeshift morgue, as they were waiting until such time as Sister Jhessa March could be summoned to properly treat the bodies (It was not yet known that Jhessa had betrayed her family, and had perished. Dame Abbie was keeping the party under strict silence). Brother Yorick had also volunteered to say various rites over the bodies and apply the proper treatments, much to Lord Meade’s relief. Two birds with one stone!

As Donaghast, Yorick and Calgrot continued with their tasks, Moghash and Targoth trekked into the woods to locate the wolfsbane patch. As they closed in, Targoth detected the presence of deadly, carnivorous Xtabay plants. As he made his way around, he failed to notice the elder assassin vine living symbiotically with the Xtabays, and was quickly entangled. As he struggled with the vines, the Xtabays began launching spores into the air, creating a cloud of sleep poison. Although Moghash was able to finish off the creatures, he could not do so in time to save his friend. Targoth had perished!

Moghash gathers what was needed, creates a makeshift carrier for the departed ranger, and heads back to town.

The party meets back up outside the barracks near the town square, and Targoth is added to the victims in the morgue. Within minutes, the full moon appears, and a ragged, eerie howl echoes through the town.

While the adventurers discuss the situation, a crowd assembles, calling out for the captain of the guard to tell them what is going on. Yorick takes the opportunity and addresses the crowd, whipping them into a frenzy of fervor, while casting doubt on the character of his companions. As his other party members leave the scene, Yorick continues to admonish the crowd, which has now become a mob, and demands entry into the Town Hall to consult with Lord meade. After his meeting, Yorick returns to the mob and leads them off in the general direction of the Gypsy Run.

In the meantime, the party head to the residence of Antal Zsoldos, whose residence is in the artisan district. When they arrive, they come upon a grisly scene- the guards at the front doors have been slaughtered, and a female voice shrieks in fear somehwere inside the large home. They quickly charge in, and see that the woman has also been mauled to death, and Antal is surrounded by feral wolfhounds. The gypsy smuggler has been wounded several times, but is holding the canines at bay.

As they look around, the group sees a hulking half-man, half-wolf looking down at them from the grand staircase balcony! As the party engages the wolfhounds, the man-wolf retreats down a hallway, disappearing from sight. Battle ensues, and Calgrot is able to persuade one of the wolfhounds to leave off her attack using his gnomish bond with nature. The adventurers quickly dispatch the others, and continue their pursuit. In the heat of the chase, Antal slips off into the darkness and flees.

The party hurries upstairs, and they find a hidden trapdoor descending directly all the way down to the basement, and a series of smuggler’s tunnels dug under the town! They climb down, bringing Calgrot’s new canine friend along to help. 

 They continue the chase through the tunnels, and are surprised by a lurking ochre jelly and the centipede swarm that feeds off its leavings! The beast had run them into a trap!

After a tense battle, they continue along the trail, and emerge into an alleyway near the docks. Continuing to closely chase their elusive quarry across town, the adventurers navigate several obstacles- a collaapsed building, an overgrown thicket that was once a public garden, a crumbling section of the docks, and thence right smack dab into the middle Yorick’s hostile mob lingering in the middle of Mud Alley!

The mob of townsfolk panic at the sight of the were-creature, despite Yorick’s admonishments, and flee into the night without abandon, dropping torches and pitchforks where they lay. As the beast is surrounded, he snarls with hatred and tells them he will kill his lover Abbie March (!!), and then his own clan, but he will kill the adventurers first! Lycanthropic rage was consuming him, and there was no time to wait to administer the antidote!

A massive battle ensues, and the party manages to utilize Naissa’s ‘implements’ to slowly beat the werewolf down, though taking heavy damage in return. Sir Donaghast risks being torn limb from limb and engages the werewolf up close, managing to jam a sprig of wolfsbane down the creature’s throat.

Balint convulses in agony, and after several moments, reverts to human form, although it is clear that he is dying from the poison. Yorick steps in and neutralizes the poison with his divine magic, saving Balint once and for all.

Shortly after the conclusion of the mayhem, Madame Eva, Sandor and other members of the Meszaros clan emerge from the shadows to spirit Balin off to safety. As he is led off, Eva tells them he will have to leave Logash and never return, for any future investigation of the incidents using magic will detect Balint’s aura unless he is far, far away.

She tells them she are even now with their group, and suggests they communicate to Dame Abbie what has happened, and to soften the blow as best they can. With that, the Meszaros depart, and the party knows they will not visit Logash again for a very long time.

The Conjunction

TWO WEEKS AGO

The young priest extended the torch as far out in front of himself as he could.

“You’re not afraid of the dark, are you my friend?” Constable Dreng needled him.

Brother Markus looked sourly over his shoulder at the fallen paladin.

“Afraid of it, no,” he replied. “Just overly familiar with the things that dwell in it.”

The friends carefully picked their way through the depths of the emptied Black Edifice, coming eventually to the great, stone disc the adventurers had described to them.

Markus stepped up to the structure, holding his torch aloft. It was dark stone, perhaps twelve feet in diameter, and covered in runes and sigils etched deeply into the rock. In the center of the disc was a relief fashioned in the likeness of a great, thorny eye.

“Basalt,” he remarked. “Well, that is odd. These chambers were carved directly out of the limestone of the region’s rocky hills. This dark stone would have had to have been transported from the seashore. It’s quite some distance from there to here. Not an easy route, by any means, nor an easy task to come by such a large specimen.”

“As to the markings, I can not make them out, but with the blessing of the Whispering Wind, that will not impede us for long.”

Markus intoned the words of one of the strongest enchantments he knew, which would provide him with the gift of many tongues. As the divine spark took hold in him, the obscure markings began to take on an intelligible shape.

“Hmmmm,” Markus mumbled contemplatively as he began to read the runes. “Oh, ho!”

Dreng groaned at his friend’s exhortations.

“Every time you do that, something bad is about to happen!”

Markus smirked at the constable’s displeasure. “The moon is waxing,” he explained, “ and it is also nearly the time of the summer solstice.”

“What of it?”

“These runes predict that certain events occur at such times, as such times are sacred to something named He Who Dreams in Shadow. I have seen that very honorific referred to repeatedly in the goblinoid letters recently captured by our local adventurers. This Edifice must have once served as something like a shrine to this personage.”

Markus continued to read.

“The last conjunction of full moon and solstice would have occurred 68 years ago, so if this set of markings in the fashion of a calendar are to be believed,” he explained, pointing to various images and lines of script. “This complimentary set of runes here suggests that the last conjunction initiated a dormant phase, with the conjunction prior to that initiating an active phase. Fascinating . . .”

“Why is that fascinating?”

“Well, that cyclical pattern would suggest that the approaching conjunction would initiate another active phase.”

“Wonderful. What happens during an active phase?”

“Corruption,” he began, touching a series of runes in order. “Madness. Destruction.”

Destruction

The two friends felt the word suddenly reverberate in their minds just as the flame of Markus’ torch extinguished, leaving them in utter blackness.

Markus heard Dreng draw his greatsword from its sheath.

“Shirak,” the priest whispered into the dark, and a cool light burst from where he held his left hand aloft. With his right, he drew the mace from his belt and held it out at the ready. The priest and the fallen paladin stood back to back, peering out into the inky depth beyond the radius of Markus’ light spell.

“Remember how to use that thing?” Dreng needled him again, jabbing a thumb at Markus’ weapon.

Markus smiled at his friend’s jibe as the darkness pressed in on them.

ONE WEEK AGO

Ghaelvwynne  Swift Hands

“The weapon will not come alive in my hands . . . ,” Ghaelvwynne muttered darkly to herself, looking down at her family’s greatest heirloom. “By this time in their life, both my mother and sister had already bonded with Sadekeha.”

Sadekeha

“You are the heir of the Valinesti, Ghaele,” Lothlaeril the Runner reminded her. “Your time will come.”

Lothlaeril the Runner

She looked fondly at her lifemate. He was right, of course. And he always knew what to say to ease her troubled thoughts.

Even so, another concern lingered in her mind, which she had not spoken of with Lothlaeril. The sacred lands had been cleared, it was true, and Ghaele could tell that the land was already healing, but she could also sense that the healing was slowed, and that there was still some lingering corruption that would need further uprooting. As heirophant of her people, she would return with her fellow druids to perform more rituals to ensure the land was fully cleansed. First, however, she would need to know more about what they were dealing with.

The humans who had helped them had sent the corpses of the invading creatures back to the priest of their hometown of Hannsport for examination. She would need to do her own examination, as well.

Ghaelvwynne put her bow away amongst their traveling packs as the pair broke camp under the light of the growing moon. With their keen eyes, the elves moved about the clearing as if it had been mid day, rather than close to midnight. When they had finished their preparations, the stoic ranger looked to her once more.

“Now that our ancestral grounds are recovering, do we return to the deep wood to deal with the orc bands descending from the mountains?”

“I think not,” she replied, after a moment of thought. “At least not yet. With the events of recent days, I would first travel to Hannsport speak with its resident priest.”

THREE DAYS AGO

“My love, tomorrow my mother shall be laid to rest with our ancestors, and I do not know what will come next for me,” Abby March confessed, as she drew close to her paramour under the moonlit boughs of the March Estate gardens.

“Do not let these things trouble you for now, love,” he replied, pulling closer to her. “This is your time to grieve. Know that your aunt Jhessa is here to guide you in this time of sadness. And I am here for you, as well.”

“But you will not be there during the rites,” she replied. “Tomorrow is the first night of the full moon and the interment must then follow in the morning.”

“I cannot attend you then, as you know. It wounds me deeply, but my presence would not be tolerated by the upstanding citizens of Logash.”

As they huddled together under the night sky, the young lovers failed to mark the prying eyes that watched them enviously from the shadows.

Torren Skiff had come this night to March Manor to decide upon a final course of action, only to come upon the scene in the gardens between his object of affection and her lowborn lover. The insult to his status by such a thing was nearly incomprehensible. It appeared this night that the fates had decided for him what he must do.

He reached into a belt pouch and pulled out a scrap of paper. On it was written a rare gypsy curse, purchased some time ago from a wretched creature belonging to the Zsoldos. On many a night while in a drunken stupor he had vacillated over whether to use it on the woman who had repeatedly made him look a fool.

And tonight was once again such a night.

The rage continued to build within him, further blurring his already impaired vision. Fumbling with the paper, he began whispering the words of the curse. The unworthy strumpet would pay for her treachery!

Swaying hazily in the dim, pale light, he quickly rushed through the foul text of the incantation. Perhaps, too quickly. At the final, complicated turn of phrase that was the climax of the curse, his alcohol-thickened tongue stumbled slightly over the words, sending a sharp, shivering chill through the core of his being as he felt the dark energy leap out from the scroll to the pair across the garden.

At that very moment, the young man began to become visibly ill. The young man! The gypsy curse had affected the wrong person! He had been robbed of his revenge! Damn their tinker eyes!

“My love, I do not know what has come over me, I-” the young man murmured, as he wretched convulsively into the nearby shrubbery. Breathing raggedly, he gasped out “I do not understand what is happening.”

Nearly a quarter hour passed, and his condition only worsened. With it now clear that the young man’s plight was not a fleeting malady, the lovers resolved to part ways.

“Go and seek relief from your people,” Dame Abby said to him in parting, “and I shall find you again on the morrow. Be well, my love.”

Both young men took leave of the garden, one to find some means of remedy, and one to sulk in the darkness, eager to find some means of revenge.

NOW

“My friends, let me begin by saying how fortuitous it is that you are here to lend your assistance to the good people of Logash in their time of need,” Lemminkainen Meade began his address to the small band of adventurers assembled in his office.

I think we have a problem,” Lord Meade explained solemnly, his voice tight. “On each of the last two nights, there have been a series of terrible incidents.”

“Although you have only been in Logash for a short time, your reputation as men of action precedes you, and I beseech you to come to our aid and bring a villain to justice!”

SESSION 6 - THE KNIGHT'S WAKE, Part 2

The following morning, the party assembled in the Great Hall and made their way upstairs to where the funeral was to be held in the Great Chapel of the Deep Umber.

Once the service got under way, Jhessa March moved the proceedings along smoothly. As the sun rose, morning light illuminated the large stained glass windows, signaling Jhessa to give the final prayer. She then bent over and kissed Astrid’s forehead. With the conclusion of the rites, she invited members of the gathering to come forward and give their remembrances while the high priestess would go to the crypt to complete preparations.

Abby was the last to speak, as was tradition, and as she gave her eulogy, Dame Astrid’s body suddenly rose up from where it lay! The knight’s body moaned in anguish and moved to attack Abby! The party leapt to action, and as general mayhem ensued, the fleeing congregants were met at the lone exit by a hoard of encroaching zombies. March Manor was under assault by the undead!

The adventurers barred to doors and managed to dispatch the mummy-Astrid before she could injure Dame Abby. After rallying the panicked crowd, the party fought and dodged their way through the zombie hoard, delivering several of the important personages safely to their quarters and clearing the zombie menace.

In the aftermath, the adventurers received notes from each of Annah Taskerhill, one from Naissa Mirian, and one from Torren Skiff, all asking to further discuss the evetns of the last few days. Each note requested a meeting with the party to discuss various matters.

The group split up to meet with Annah and Naissa, and deferred meeting with Torren. As they made their way to the meetings, Naissa and Emune were set upon by an assassin later identified by the paladin as a member of the Zsoldos gypsy clan (using the assassin’s bat tattoo as a telltale sign of affiliation). Both women had been badly poisoned by the assassin’s attacks, though Emune still fought on to protect her dying lover. As the party converged on the scene, they overwhelmed to killer and the pries was able to bring Naissa back from the brink.

As they contemplated the presence and purpose of the assassin, they realized they had not heard nor seen anything from Jhessa, who had gone off to the crypt earlier. They returned to Dame Abby, and reported their concern that Jhessa had somehow been involved the events of the past few hours.

The group set out for the crypt with Abby in the lead. When they arrived, they found Jhessa wounded and slumped against the doors of the crypt. The priestess claimed to have been attacked by undead and was too injured to return to the manor house.

Sensing that her story did not add up, the party moved to confront her. She leapt up and cursed them for interlopers and Abby as unworthy of her inheritance. At Jhessa’s command several skeletons and zombies crawled up out of the surrounding graves and attacked. Jhessa also pulled back the doors of the crypt, and several powerful undead champions burst forth to join in the fight.

A lengthy battle ensued, but in the end, the combined skill and might of the party was too much for Jhessa and her minions. As they finally brought the priestess down, she cursed them one final time, swearing that Abby’s rule over House March would be marked by its brevity and misfortune.

Upon the defeat of the renegade priestess, efforts were undertaken in the following days to re-inter the remains of those who had been torn from their rest, and Dame Astrid was, at last, laid to rest with her ancestors.

After being rewarded by Abby for their efforts, she asked them if they would be willing to safeguard her interests in Hillsreach as she worked to put the affairs of House March back into order in Logash. Having agreed to the request, and before they could depart, the adventurers received another, seperate request to meet Lemminkainen Meade, the lord of the town of Logash, who had just returned from business dealings in the capitol and who found himself in need of assistance with a significant problem within the town walls.