Tilia’s Field Notes: Into the Elven Ruins

We were cautious about entering the forest after the orc encounter in the mountain, and indeed, it was a strange place. Normal forest gave way to what seemed to be an ancient battleground, with rusting arms overtaken by new foliage. It was salve to my soul to see how the forest reclaimed its space after a violation of the natural order.

The landscape became stranger and stranger as we went on. Eventually the forest stopped altogether and odd pools of silvery liquid formed a sort of moat separating the embattled forest from a particular lush patch at its center. We cautiously picked our way through on paths leading into one of the healthiest forests I’ve ever seen. It was consecrated ground, a sacred forest, and I wished I could linger among the ruined statues and columns wreathed in vines.

But the party pressed on, Travis in the lead. It was the most excited that I’ve ever seen the wooden man, as though all his existential questions were about to be resolved. We followed a path to something like a mausoleum in a clearing at the center of the sacred grove. The carved stonework at the entry quickly gave way into a natural cave, but it was like no cave I’ve ever encountered.

The cave led into a large chamber where above-ground plant life flourished under some radiance emitted by the cave itself. Lush mosses coated the walls, and it wasn’t just the usual small underground plants but all manner of forbs, grasses, and vegetation carpeting the space. Simply fascinating.

Pencil sketch of a vegetated cave with a stone-lined trail running through it.

A small stream also radiated light, and as we explored, we found a system of fountains. Several of the others touched and stepped into the glowing water, all appearing momentarily inebriated after the encounter. I was wary of it myself, avoiding contact with the fluid, which resisted containment and wouldn’t be controlled by Teal’s water magic – until Travis tried to cup some in his hands. The enchanted water only allowed itself to be contained by the wooden man. The softly radiant liquid seeped into the grain of his hands, pushing itself into the long-dormant xylem.

The elven women split off down another passage that looped back to the main cavern, while Travis examined a statue mounted in the center of a fountain with a fractal mosaic base. Val had fussed with nudging the statue about earlier, before losing interest and wandering off. Travis, however, examined and then approached the mechanism in stops and starts – something about proximity to the statue had an effect on him, making his crystal “heart” glow and pulsate – but he then quickly manipulated the statue into alignment. It moved downward, revealing a staircase.

I had been busy observing the unusual underground plant life, including strange mushrooms that moved of their own accord, sliding into little holes along the cave walls. We were also surrounded by luminescent flying creatures, about the size of my palm, which similarly shied from attention. But before I could get a closer look at these odd fungi, or sit quietly for long enough that the flying things might calm and come close enough to observe, the party was disappearing down the fountain staircase. I hurried to join them.

Tilia’s Field Notes: Over the Mountain

We spent some time repairing the defiled temple, cleaning the ziggurat and mending what had been broken before departing from the Necromancer’s Lair. One of the others found a strange inscription in dwarvish on the ziggurat, “Wherever there are elves, there are lies.” The elven-blooded among our party seemed irritated at this, but the entire complex was built by dwarves as a resting place for elves, and such things don’t always come about without coercion.

“Wherever there are elves, there are lies.”

As the afternoon wore on, we became concerned about the succubus returning, and so departed for the elven ruins where Travis was found, as we’d originally planned to do before the mummy’s curse interfered. Rather than staying in the forest and going around the small mountain chain, or passing back through The Glade and crossing two rivers on the other side, we decided to go over the mountains, saving ourselves several days of travel and untold complications.

Of course, going over instead of around entailed its own complications. We had lovely weather the first evening we were encamped, and Wynlynn and I foraged for supper. She took two kid goats with her bow, lovely creatures that I would have preferred to leave unmolested. But it is the natural order: some must die for others to live. I found some fine autumn fruits and berries, plus a few tubers to throw into the stew pot. To our surprise, Agenar had been carrying a small cauldron the entire time, which made goat stew an easy meal for most of the party. Happily, there was adequate forage for me to forego the stew.

Pencil sketch of a mountain goat .

Observations on the mountain while foraging:

  • Six mountain goats, two kids (which Wynlynn skillfully dispatched) and four adults. Their coats were thickening against the impending winter season; we too shall soon have to equip ourselves against the cold.
  • Typical small animals, including a Marmota species gathering grass for its winter larder.
  • Late season stone fruits, just at the peak of ripeness.
  • A nice patch of mountain cranberry, Vaccinium erythrocarpum, with the last handful of berries for the year.

All went smoothly overnight and as we made our way in the morning, until we reached height of land and crested the ridge. Val was leading the march but upon hearing some rustling sounds ahead, immediately wailed at the top of her healthy lungs, “NOOOO! Not the succubus!” (The fiend had flown off in a different direction entirely, but somehow about half our party seems completely unable to understand cardinal directions, and I currently trust only Wynlynn and Teal to reliably navigate without a map.)

What kind of fighter alerts potential assailants to her location with so little restraint?!? I was frankly aghast. I am no fighter, but going unnoticed is both a habit and a skill, so being made an obvious target makes me very nervous. Although come to think of it, Travis too seems to enjoy informing marauders of our location quite deliberately, as if completely oblivious to the potential dangers of these actions.

Of course, there were indeed adversaries ahead, and Val was promptly pierced by their arrows. She’s lucky that there are multiple spellcasters in our party who can heal her wounds, and it makes me wonder how she survived before joining our group. Despite Val’s finer qualities, which are slowly becoming more apparent, such senseless behavior reminds me of an overgrown child who must be carefully watched lest she toddle into mortal danger, dragging the rest of us behind her. A pretty face on an empty head isn’t to my taste, but apparently it works for Wynlynn. To each her own, as they say.

Had Val kept her foolish mouth shut, I could’ve cast a spell I just learned that would have allowed us all to pass by the orcs unnoticed. But no. There were six orcs, all wearing the same bloody handprint symbol we’ve seen elsewhere recently. Our group managed to slay them without too much trouble, though Agenar too was badly injured in the process; luckily, that was the end of the skirmish. We split a few gold we found on them, and Wynlynn replenished her supply of arrows from the orcs’ quivers. Upon glancing about the site, it seems that the orcs have been coming down from the north and scouting, perhaps in preparation for an invasion? The notion is worrisome, as it seems there is little our ragtag band might do to directly address the threat of an orc invasion.

Shortly thereafter, Teal located a fine campsite for the night and late the next morning, we descended into forest once again. There have been no further sightings of the giant avian creature that I saw on the other side of the mountain, and much to my frustration, I still can’t quite identify it.

Agenar’s journal, page 231

After a short rest, we returned belowground to purify the desecrated shrine of Moradin. After helping dispose of the orc, I left the others scrubbing gore from the walls and went to commune with the now-toothless black dragon. While kneeling before the skull, I noticed the gleam of a necromancer’s black onyx in the eye socket, and had just removed it when Teal called that they had finished and were leaving. He, as a water gensasi, had purified the temple faster than I thought possible, and the others were, understandably, anxious to be elsewhere.

Now we travel over the mountains toward the ruin of Selu’tar, where Travis was discovered. Wynlynn has provided two fat kids from a herd of wild goats, and our bellies are full as Val and I settle into first watch. Travis joins us tonight, and offers us ale, because he has always wanted to see someone get drunk. I hope we do not disappoint him.

p. 232

We made good time as Wynlynn led us along the mountain shoulder this morning, but as the sun crested, Tymora turned her smile away. As she looked elsewhere, arrows came at us from out of the bush. I turned and saw three archers –orcs? – their armor emblazoned with the red hand of Jo’vak. Tilia, the fubolg, muttered an incantation and thorns sprung up around them as I unleashed the magic missile. While each bolt found flesh, it also made me a target for orc arrows, and one stuck home. It is only near the end of a long rest that I can now compose these lines.

These orcs, alas, were not along. At their cries, another three rose from the bush ahead. Though I had been rendered useless again, Val, Wynlynn, and our brave paladin Pantaghion overcame them all soon enough. Travis tells me it was likely a scouting party, as he found footprints to follow leading, eventually, to a trail from the north. Perhaps rumors of an invasion are true.

Wynlynn’s Reflections 2

How could I have acted so recklessly? I nearly died, put my companions in trouble, and endangered my mission. What an idiot I was…

When Lia was forced to run I had two choices, go back to the city and live my life, rising up in the ranks of the Verdant Guard in the footsteps of my father and be everything that was expected of me, or follow her. It wasn’t a difficult decision. I would follow her and do everything I could to help her, to protect her. She was of course not interested in me following her. She told me to leave many times, once or twice she even lashed out physically to try and force me to stop following her. I gave her space but I was never far. After a while we settled into our new strange companionship, one determined to follow the other who wanted nothing to do with them. For a while she settled with ignoring me. Over the three years since then the tension as eased slightly with the healing that only time can provide, but those first days and weeks of travel with Lia were difficult. This is almost harder in some ways. Back then I knew I would never be forgiven and there was no expectation for anything other than that look of anger and hurt in her eyes. Now, I don’t know. When she was charmed by the succubus was she really thinking of me? I can still feel where she touched my check that night, a contact so intimate that for a moment it felt like everything was like it was before, when the world was perfect, when I had Lia and she had me, before it all went wrong. But then her hand dropped and where it had been felt so cold. She walked away and I was left there wondering what it all meant. Was I supposed to go back to following her and ignoring whatever feelings had been stirred up by the whole encounter? As if it never happened? After Lia leaves me burning with embers of a fire not quite out? That was only two days ago and yet it simultaneously feels like seconds ago and centuries ago all at the same time. 

The focus and discipline that left me when the succubus and Lia disappeared has not seemed to return to me. I feel distracted, and something else I have never felt before. I think it must be restlessness. I was always content to simply do what needed to be done. As a child I did as I was told, pleased my parents, pleased my teachers. As a gaurdsman I completed trainings, I completed missions. As Lia’s protector I followed her and watched her back. You do what needs to be done and there is no need for anything else. But suddenly I feel restless, like it is not enough to follow along with my companions, travel where we need to travel, explore where we need to explore, fight when we need to fight. It is strange. That has never not been enough.  I am likely to make mistakes in this distracted state of mine. Over the past two nights as we camp I have tried to meditate; when we are moving during the day I have tried to concentrate on our travels. Nothing seems to shake me from this state. I don’t know how to gain my focus back. So here I am in the elven ruins feeling restless. When I would normally stay with the group and think strategy for how to accomplish the task at hand and keep us all safe, I find myself instead wandering off alone exploring various hallways. Val follows me. I am not sure what she is thinking. Has all this impacted her the way it has me, or is that just wishful thinking? Perhaps it was just a momentary lapse in judgment and she is content to go back to the way things have been for the past year or so. As we wander, she is the one who suggests we head back to the rest of the party. It’s strange, normally I would be the one to suggest we not wander so far from the group.

We get back just in time follow the group down a hidden stairwell they found. Upon finding a large circular plate with colored lights and pipes leading down from a bowl in the middle that seems to be ready for some sort of liquid, Travis declares that he is going to head back out to collect the silver liquid that is about two miles outside the ruins and off he goes without another word. It is discussed that he should not go alone and Lia decides to go with him. Normally I would probably go where she goes, but it doesn’t seem a dangerous journey and perhaps being away from her for a short while will help me clear my mind. Instead, my restless energies have me wondering down a red glowing hallway away from the rest of the group. I don’t see much of interest here. 

Then I hear it. A voice. A voice telling me of a task I must complete. I could not describe to you what it sounded like, or even exactly what it said but it is very clear to me that the task given to me by the voice is of the utmost importance. I must get each of the colored liquids and bring them to the bowl in the center of the colored plate. Perhaps I was so ready for something to distract me from my strange state that I threw myself into the mission given to me with blind determination. Not that there is any reason to making excuses for stupidity no matter what state I was in.

It was easy to obtain the red liquid in the next room over. I foolishly thought they would all be that easy. As I existed the red hallway and prepared to go up the orange hallway to obtain the next vial I heard Agenar scream in pain. I hate to admit it, but for half a second I wondered if I should continue on my path. But of course that would have been a stupid and unnecessary course of action. My companion needed me and the sound had come from the green hallway which surely contained one of the liquids which I needed to complete my mission. I headed for the sound. As I peered down the green hallway Skeletons were surrounding Agenar’s unconscious body. Our party (or at least those of us that were there) quickly got to work, the routine of battle all too familiar to us. Me and Pantaghion found ourselves surrounded but working together we quickly took out those nearest us. I did seem strange to me that one of them kept apologizing to us as the battle went on, and also seemed surprised that we fought back, asking why we were attacking them. But still they attacked, so despite the protest we did the only thing we could. Fight back. The group worked together to take out the skeletons one at a time while Tilia also got to work healing Agenar, bringing him back to consciousness. As the battled died down, the enemy defeated I quickly went back to the task at hand. I rushed up the hallway, eager to get the second of five liquids. I figured that, with the skeletons gone, this task would be quick and easy.

Agenar saw me get the liquid but, as I learned later, that is what he had done to start the fight with the skeletons in the first place so he had no reason to question the action other than perhaps the zeal and determination with which I went about it, not knowing, of course, how important my mission was. As I gathered the green liquid in a vial the skeletons started to reform around us. Me and Agenar quickly rushed out, closing the door to the green hallway and closing the skeletons in. With two of the three liquids in tow, I urged myself on, rushing past my companions and into the yellow room. For some reason Tilia tried to entangle me, but I easily side stepped it rushing into the room. I thought, if I could get in and out quickly enough, we could avoid any difficulties. I thought, worse case scenario, we would have to fight a few more skeletons. How stupid I was. Not only was I very much not quick enough, but it was not skeletons guarding this liquid. Instead, I found myself quickly surrounded by 3 ghasts with three more off to the side and before I could even raise my swords I was hit and paralyzed. My companions rushed in the room to help, but then the world went black… 

When I came to, I was drenched in water, I assume Teal’s doing, and laying by the door to the yellow room. I am sure I was healed somewhat by one of my companions but I don’t know which. Without a word Pantaghion grabbed me and rushed me out the door. My companions quickly got to work closing and trying to bar the door. It had no lock so Tilia held it herself against the onslaught of pushing, the ghasts slamming themselves against it from the other side. Pantaghion’s new shovel was wedged into the ground in front of the door as a door stop. It seemed to hold but we didn’t wait long to find out, rushing up the stairs away from this place. As we left I heard the voice again, reminding me of the importance of my mission and the rewards that would come with its completion.

Back in the area with the fountains, I can feel Tilia glaring at me. It hurts to feel the anger of one I care about so much, especially one who is so slow to anger. I suppose I should be getting used to hurting the ones I love, I seem to be getting good at it. I was so stupid putting myself, my companions, and my mission at risk. What would my commanders back in the guard have thought of such reckless behavior? What would my father have said? I can’t believe I let my emotions from the last few days get me so far off track. It is time to get back to thinking like a soldier. I cannot jeopardize my party or my mission with such recklessness again. I must step back and make a plan:

  • It is clear that my mission is a dangerous one and that I cannot do it alone. I will need the help of my companions in order to complete it. I cannot be so foolish as to rush off on my own again.
  • The others will not understand how important this task is. If I tell them they will only be suspicious and then it will be near impossible to get their help, so I must do this without telling them.
  • I have screwed up so badly, they will not be very willing to listen to my ideas right now. If I push too hard they will become more suspicious and less trusting of me. That will make it even harder to do what needs to be done. I need to take a back seat for a little while until tensions smooth over.
  • As far as getting back to underground tunnels of colored light, I believe that Travis or Val will likely encourage the party to go back there without me having to say anything. Val does not like the feeling of leaving something undone and the whole reason we came here in the first place was to help Travis discover more about his past. Surely with the glowing crystal in his chest and recognition of the person that the statue was made to resemble, he feels close to some knowledge about himself and where he came from. If I am lucky, I will not have to say anything about going back after we are rested and healed up. They will convince the party to continue exploring and I will be able to finish my task with their unknowing help.

I have a plan. I feel the calm that comes with strategizing for a mission. I feel more like myself again. I feel calm and focused on the task at hand but this time patient. I will do it right. It is good to have a mission and such an important one at that. I feel badly keeping it from my companions, truly I do, but they will surely understand afterwards. When we are well reward I know some will consider that a good enough reason to have been kept in the dark, and the other will hopefully see how important it was and understand why I could not tell them. I am ready, and this time I will not mess it up.

Tilia’s Field Notes: On Observing

I packed this book of empty pages when I set out adventuring with the intention of keeping records of new plants and animals that I encountered. And so I shall, but it seems there are more things of interest to observe – such as my companions and our travails, even my own thoughts – than I had initially intended to record. Maybe that’s part of what I need to learn on this journey.

Truth be told, I miss home, although I can’t quite say where home is anymore. Having no true homeland somehow keeps me in a state of continual depletion. There’s a constant dull sensation of emptiness that nothing can fill, like a bruise that’s always under pressure and therefore never heals. When I cannot turn my mind to other things, the hurt grows from a whimper to a roar that makes it painful to even breathe, and everything inside me aches.

Although this internal desolation threatens to overwhelm me almost every day, I cannot speak of it to my companions. What would I even say – that I’m “homesick” despite having no home? That my very soul feels untethered? Surely, they couldn’t understand my distress. I don’t understand it myself.

But for better or worse, my traveling companions are quite an effective distraction, leaving me blessed little opportunity for contemplation or melancholy. Most days, the physical exhaustion of hard travel and combat let me fall into sleep before sinking into despair. Taking part in our expeditions, however ill-advised some of them turn out to be, seems to keep the heartache at bay. And I would rather sustain another accursed wound than stare into the hollowness of my heart.

Of late, I’ve also begun to doubt that I’ll ever find my firbolg tribe, especially if I continue traveling with these adventurers. My kind wouldn’t make themselves known to such a wayward, noisy group as ours, unless it were to drive us off from the forest to leave the beasts and plants in peace.

But all the same, I’m not sure I could locate a firbolg tribe — mine or any other — even if I traveled alone. The only place to search is the forest where my childhood stronghold once stood, and I no longer remember where that was. Even if I could find the right patch of the right forest, I might not recognize it, and my tribe might not have returned. It’s impossible to consider asking the others to venture far out of our way on such a slim hope. This part of my quest seems increasingly futile, but I’m not quite ready to let go of it completely. Not yet.

I’ve started to wonder if this strange tribe of adventurers may be the one I’m really meant to find. And whether I will ever find myself at home again.

A Letter to Alura

To the knowledgeable Alura,

I am writing you with some questions that I have not the faculty to investigate with the rigor that they deserve. By way of context, I would like to outline the following:

  1. Together with several of my students, we were contracted by the local mining company to investigate issues with personnel being killed inside of a mine.
  2. In route to the mine, we took a boat and slept in the open. While sleeping, we began to notice the stars were moving. Typically, these stars were in one part of the sky and seemingly “moved” from their location in the Western Sky and then reappeared (apparently the same star?) in the Eastern Sky. There seems to be a single spot in the sky that they disappear from and they reappear in some sort of random pattern.
  3. I have asked a number of residents in town to record the comings and goings of the stars. In the next couple weeks, I should have some sort of dataset to orient myself with.

Next, inside of the mines, we found what seems to be an alter to the deity or demon or figure called, “Dagon.”

This alter was populated by a number of creatures that seemed to be trying to open some sort of portal through which this creature would apparently enter this dimension.

The alter within the mine was also protected or the residents had disturbed a race of creatures that resembled large ants. These ants attempted to either block us from or were driven from that alter. Upon entering the alter, we did not see them again.

The alter itself was filled with a number of images depicting some sort of flooding-type event. We found a staff that seems to called, “Dagon’s Reach” which is filled with what seems to be a spherical object that resembles the one in my chest.

Within the mines was also some sort of indentation that resembled what I would call the tooth of a shark. This makes sense as the Sahaguin-like imagery inside and around the temple seems to be very ocean-inspired.

Interestingly, many of the miners seem to have been part of a group that was uncovering the alter. They also seemed to have signed their lives away on magic-bound contracts that would result in their untimely deaths had they revealed what they saw there. I am unsure if these miners were killed by the ants or whatever lived in the alter.

Finally, this group of companions and I are headed toward what I like to think of home. Where I was found is rumored to have had recent activity and new lights have been seen in the area. We are stopping by some sort of alter-like site to investigate the claims of a beaten and bloody individual. It is on the way to my home and so I am anxious to get that over with in order to see if anything else has awoken in my home.

I remain your faithful servant and student,

Sincerely,

He who others call Travis.

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