Legends of the Forsaken Sands

Chapter 2a: Thirst
We now return to...

Session Date:
March 31st, 2013 (Session # ?)
XP gained:
? (? + ? + ?)
New Total:
? / ? (to Level 3)
Treasure and Items:
Ornate Boar’s Tusk Dagger (1200 GP)
Platinum Ring (500 gp)
Earth Torc

In the ashen wastes of Korras’Zor, an otherworldy monster assaulted Sidra Canan while she searched through the remains of a caravan for survivors. The Grick tackled her, knocking her from the vehicle and out into the streets. The abberation’s bite earned a scream that drew her companions from up the street, although they were precious seconds away. Sidra pushed away and found her thrown knives to be woefully ineffective on the tentacled, worm-like creature. Something from her dreams bubbled up, but the implications were unclear.

Landis charged to flank, Toran prepared himself, and Pysor and Boval hurried to her side. When the creature came after Sidra once again Pysor leaped into action, pushing the half-orc aside to intercept the blows herself. Landis rushed into the fray, but her weapons and Pysor’s fists both seemed unable to pierce the monster’s hide readily. Sidra herself drew forth the waterlogged kris from the cisterns temple, and while it proved able to pierce the Gricks hide, it also shifted ominously, straightening, serrating, and growing scales along the handle in her hands.

Boval enchanted Landis’ blade as Toran joined the melee with a magicked stave, toothed maw and tentacle dishing out bites and scrapes as well as taking numerous nicks from the survivors. A heave from Landis’ sword and Sidra’s Kris finally sent the creature to the ground for good… Where Sidra, unsurprised, drew a box from the remains.

A note and a suspiciously empty cylindrical setting were within. The note seems to intrigue, then trouble Sidra. She brushed away Toran’s attempt to read, but Boval snuck a glance at the bottom of the letter. it was from Miraen – A merchant prince whom Sidra worked with, who may have desired more than just a business relationship with the ranger.

A further search unearthed a few unfortunate facts. The Caravan had come after The Event, and someone had been chased into the collapsing warehouse district by Gricks. In the caravan were a valuable ring and dagger, apparently intended as gifts from the Merchant to Sidra.

Boval tried to work out the workings of the aberration’s anatomy, to little effect. Toran searched out some solace, poking around on the trail of what he presumes to be Nyx, a wounded God of travel. Sidra mourned the apparent loss of a courtier. Conversation gradually shifted to searching for survivors, following Nyx’s trail, and the dwindling supply of food preventing more thorough examinations.

The trail of strange, ruby-like blood led east out of the city, through the devestated giant wildflower fields. Something unusual drew Toran’s attention away from Sidra’s trailblazing and tracking.. towars a massive mound. Which soon revealed itself to be alive – The enormous Earth Elemental Foundation. Apparently wounded and dying, the survivors accepted their inability to sustain the giant creature. Unable to coax out much more information on the subject, Toran made a clear decision, and stepped forward, employing a unique ritual he alone seemed to know, that began to envelop the Elemental in white-hot light.

The noise attracted two nearby mephits, dust-creatures waiting in the wings like vultures to prey upon the dying elemental. As Toran concentrated on the ritual they attacked. Wary and ready, Boval and Sidra prepared themselves while Landis ruched out to meet one with steel – And discovered the dust forms of the flying humanoids to be resistant to mundane arms.

As the other Mephit closed to unleash a storm of dust and ash, Sidra and Boval opened fire. Boval sent Landis’ foe fleeing before locking down a distracting flare on the other, and Sidra once more drew out her Kris to step in and engage the monster. Pysor’s javelins cautiously slipped into the growing melee, and Talia’s preperations paid off, with a powerful water elemental materializing to engage the dusty beasts. Diving and weaving, the mephit spewed clouds of ash and swung claws with abandon, despite being surrounded on all sides, catching just the stray nick here and there, whittling at it until it’s friend could rejoin.

Sensing an opening, the once-fleeing mephit chased after Toran. Despite his focus on the ritual, Toran spun the last of the Elder Elemental’s strength into two vicious slams – knocking the mephit from the sky and then smashing it with the pair of blows. Nicked and slowed, Talia’s enchanted ash stave finally found it’s mark in the worn mephit’s skull, crushing it to the ground and burying it in the ash.

In the aftermath, Boval and Toran entered a heated discussion. Boval believed that the Elemental would have been a valuable specimen to study, citing the unnatural size, and Toran took the view that he was being respectful of a divine wonder by laying it to rest with the proper rites.

Under pressure from the rest of the survivors to move along and find shelter come evening, they tabled the debate for later and continued on to the Redoubt – A well known stopping point outside the city, protected from storms, and serving as a message board for caravans and individuals coming from or traveling to the east.

Bo continued to exhibit unusual behavior as the group closed on the site. Upon arrival, he claimed to have built the place. A strange statement, but potentially true. He also noted some misplaced stones, which led to the discovery of a headstone.

Made from bricks, and a root-bound sword, the headstone as it were had two written pieces. One, the elven word ‘Be’, and another, a date, scratched in loosely. Talia recognized the latter writing as her own and the sword as a much larger, but similar blade to her father’s scimitar. It also seemed to respond to her druidic talents, the plants releasing the sword to her. The blade’s sole decoration was the elven phrase “Ire”

  • Fought off Grick
  • Encountered Foundation
  • Fought off Mephits
  • Toran coalesced the minro spark from Delida Steelwind in Foundation to a Torc
  • Argued about Boval’s furthering of mysteries versus Toran’s respect for the dead an dying
  • Sought the Redoubt / Wind Farm
  • Discovered Boval’s hand in the place, and his memories
  • Discovered a cryptic grave, and a abberant-bane Sword with a connection to Talia
  • Unearthed a little bit of detail about The Black Stone, as a Scrying Beacon.
Leaving Home
Korras'Zor to The Aquifer Temple

Session Date:
October 20th, 2012 (Session 1)
XP gained:
435 (100 + 135 + 200)
New Total:
435 / 1300 (to Level 2)
Treasure and Items:
2 Camels, Wand of Cure Light Wounds, Many winter blankets, lots of food and water.

The day arrives in Korras’Zor like any other. Twelve people go about their day, each rather diverse, but upon the mind of each is their summons before representatives of The Council later in the day.

The Warden steps out of a meeting with The Gatekeepers, passing by one of their namesake gates, enormous white stone obelisks, no physical gate between them. The inner surfaces are marked with glowing sigils, their light drowned out by the early morning sun, but a warm reminder in evening to those passing through them, that the city is guarded against at least some of the dangers of the sands outside. Her meeting is uneventful – Merely warnings, and thank yous for her volunteering. She tends her horse, and waits, the journey a practice one for a more personal task she hopes to undertake next.

The Stormchaser, unsurprisingly, is training. Catching drops of dew from the palms that tower over and line the main road to the southwest requires precision and patience. They are one of the last trees to remain hardy in Korras’Zor’s drought. Discipline, both harkening back to her strange youth and talents learned since, let her sense the droplet, and move her temple sword just so. It is but one step closer to perfection, and calms her mind for the arduous journey she can sense coming ahead.

The Caretaker, as is often the case, runs down leads about unusual sightings in the desert. Two thieves, certainly not reliable men, babble rumors about a dead giant in the wastes. They imagine he is law enforcement – Instead, he is merely a scholar, whose altered features sometimes help quicken men’s tongues. Raised a mortician, once a follower of Mirr and now a follower of gods as a whole kind, he has a task waiting somewhere out in the desert, if only he could find what he’s been seeking. The reward from this task will fund searching further afar, aiding his search.

The Deserter is wrapped up, sadly, in her least favorite, but most necessary task – Dealing with a member of the growing ranks of the intolerant in Korras’Zor. This time is it one of her countrymen – Former countrymen at least. She has to remind him that this is not The West, that harming anyone has consequences. She is ready to work with the council, shady as she may think parts of it, because it is what must be done. It is not enough to help, she knows she must do, all she can, to help, and the Council will guide her to such a task.

The Stargazer is in good spirits. The Caravaneer she has trekked with has proven to be a fine companion, the sort of work she appreciates, the kind that doesn’t get between her and the stars. It might be more, but her talents have been requested. She senses she can make a difference, and that she can finally push herself, prove she is over her injury, and perhaps commit to more traveling with the caravan, a journey back east, sometime soon…

The Changer spent his day doing business as usual. His insight helps the bureaucracy of The Triangle, cutting through misleading magic, and bolstering the efficiency of the organization which keeps the city of Korras’Zor functioning. The most familiar with Balshorn and his allies, he knows anything that Balshorn will give up his personal assistance for must be important. He has been restless, just barely content – The promise of something new and unusual tilts the scales, offering exciting possibilities for the days ahead, and maybe the courage to break the monotony, and seek out more next.

Balshorn sits in one of the grandiose meeting rooms at the Pipe and Poem. Lisk and Sinclair flank him, as he goes over what each of the twelve gathered citizens already know.

Korras’Zor is facing a critical lack of water. The cistern which feeds the city is all but empty, rains are far off, and there is a delay among caravans bringing water. A handful of holy men and the gatekeepers are doing what they can, but one of two things must happen to keep people from dying – A critical caravan carrying water must arrive, or the underground aquifer which fuels the city’s wells must be repaired.

They are split into teams, and given their stipend, along with the names of a merchant who will provide them with a pair of camels for the allegedly week long journey. With provisions purchased and camels loaded, they decide to set out during the night, to travel without the sun bearing down on them.

Come morning, and the first camp the band set up, they settled for a trio of watches, allowing a full morning’s rest for everyone. Shortly after dawn, Pysor and Landis discovered something amiss in the scrubland nearby – Pysor, investigating, found a strange sand formation, and acid scars in the rock of a nearby crevice. She wisely retreated, informing landis, and waking the others, just in time for an irritated and sleepy Sidra to recognize the noises beneath their feet and direct everyone to higher, rocky ground.

Sidra’s warning buys the troupe time, and gives them an advantage as a ferocious magical beast with a shining carapace and acid dripping mandibles burst from the sand. Spreading out and harassing it, they managed to avoid the ferocious jaws and sprays of acid long enough to shatter it’s shell.

The night grow colder. Traveling without the sun begins to prove troublesome as the temperature drops, but they wrap themselves in blankets and spells and press on. The next evening, strange migration patterns are noticed among insects during the night, as if something regularly drew vermin in the area across the plains.

The night after, while setting up camp, a strange noise over the next rise warned of predators in the area. The source would not be known until the next day, as the temple atop the cistern came into sight among the mesas and cracked ground. Seemingly out of thin air, an emaciated Hyena pack descended upon the party, hungry for a meal. Landis’ heroism, among others, kept Toral from becoming a quick meal, and Boval’s inexpert camel handling almost earned a similar fate. As they ran, they crossed a warded circle surrounding the temple, which the driven camels only reluctantly crossed, and the hyenas would have nothing to do with.

Talia tried to bring the camels along, but to no avail, something stirring fear deep in their hearts. Instead, spreading out, Boval examined the nearby shelter at the foot of the temple mount, only for an immense arachnid to emerge and loom over him…

  • Receive mission in Korras’Zor
  • Equip for the journey ahead
  • Travel from Korras’Zor
  • Avoid Ankheg ambush
  • Observe insects migrating to the north
  • hints of Hyenas
  • Hyena ambush outside Temple
  • Arrive at temple
  • Disturb Giant Black Widow

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