OOC: This thread assumes that the rest of the party are successful in completing the second module in the Savage Tide series and that Logan is raised from the dead (again!). Obviously, if I TPK the rest of them then all this never happens.

About a month after being raised from the dead, Logan swung closed the big front gate of the Vanderboren mansion and made sure it was locked. His tuition of the party's patron was going well - she had mastered the basics of two weapon fighting, and was ready for the next step. Next week he would start her on real weapons rather than the sticks they had been using. And just as importantly she was beginning to get over the trauma of what had happened to her - both the physical and emotional wounds were beginning to close over and knit together. Logan absentmindedly scratched at his own scar that stretched across his midriff - that sure been one hell of a way to die!

One of the positive outcomes of the terrible events was that Lavinia's stipend to all of the them had been increased to a princely two hundred golden crowns per month - enough for the rest of the party to live quite luxurious lives... and enough for Logan to finally move his mother out of the little attic she had been living in at the shrine and get her into a pleasant ground floor apartment with direct access to the garden.

With a sigh Logan had to admit that the extra time Tessara had been spending in the sheltered grounds hadn't changed much. As he started walking up towards the Shrine of Art and Beauty, he found that there was a little piece of him that was beginning to actually dread his daily visits to see her, but what else could a good son do?

So when Karthach greeted him excitedly and said there was something important to talk about in regards to his mother's condition, the young half-elf's heart leapt into his throat.

"Now, now. I think I have made a discovery. Quite a discovery indeed young Logan!" said the old dwarf as he guided the rogue through the beautifully kept gardens to the bench where he mother sat. She looked and acted the same way she always did now. She no longer spoke. She never showed expression on her face. She no longer looked up and greeted him. She would follow anyone who took her by the hand and led her somewhere. She would chew when food was put in her mouth, and drink, but that was about that. She sat all day and stared out at the garden walls or whatever else was in front of her, not focusing particularly on anything.

"Okay. Now as you know Logan, your dear mother has not responded to any of our efforts to revive her spirits. To be honest, I had decided that the best we could do for her was keep her comfortable and find her a nice comfortable spot to rest in the gardens. I move her round during the day to give her a little exercise and also to find her a spot out of the sun. But now young man, watch this."

The dwarf bends down and gently strokes Tessara's hair. "Tessara? Tessara, time to move my dear." Karthach holds Tessara's unresisting hands and pulls her to her feet, leading her across the garden to another spot. It breaks Logan's heart to see his Elven mother reduced to such a level of passivity.

About twenty yards away Karthach stops and lowers Tessara down onto another bench. "There you are my dear, that was good, wasn't it?" The Elven lady slouches on the seat and then shuffles around a little bit to stare at the garden wall, not focusing on anything in particular.

"Hot dog!" exclaims Karthach, slapping himself on the thigh firmly. "Did you see that young man? Did you?!"

Logan shakes his head.  "I don't understand.  That's what she'll do for me, for anyone.  You pulled her to her feet, and she followed you across the garden.  She's been compliant like that for...well, for a long time.  How is this any different from when I brought her to you?"

Logan struggles to keep his composure, and silently curses himself for daring to let his hopes be elevated.

"What? Oh, no, no, no!" exclaims the dwarf. "Look!"

He again goes through the process of pulling the elven maiden to her feet, and this time steers her to a pleasant spot of grass in the shade at the very far end of the garden. Tessara makes no resistance as he lowers her to the ground. But once she is settled she shuffles around again and stares at a spot in the wall. Not the same spot mind you, a spot a little further along the outer wall of the garden.

Oh come on John! You're always two steps ahead of me!

Logan shakes his head, as if not believing what what he is seeing.  "So she's...she's looking for something?  When did she start this?  Is it always the same time of day when she looks?  What's on the other side of the wall?"

Logan's mind races with a hundred questions, and he runs over to the wall, looking at it for some explanation as to what Tessara is trying to see.

Karthach joins him at the wall. "Yes, I think she is looking at something Logan." He runs his hands across the light coloured brickwork, interspaced with creepers and colourful climbing plants. "But not the wall. I think she might be looking in the direction of something beyond the wall. I noticed it straight away when she took the ground floor apartment, as she didn't stare out the windows, she was always looking at a corner of the room that was also in this direction. And when I thought about it, she always stared in that direction when she was in the attic room, and didn't you say she always stared out of the window in your old apartment in Shadowshore at the same spot? Well maybe it wasn't a particular spot, more a direction."

Ka-BOOM! And that is foreshadowing!

"What's on the other side of the wall?" He shrugs. "Well, she is looking pretty much to the south-west so on the other side of this wall is the Witchwarden's Walk, then Castle Teraknian and then... the rest of Sasserine. So that IS the question. what is she looking at?"
This message was last updated by the player at 20:07, Mon 09 May 2016.

Logan scratched his head, pacing in front of the wall.  "Staying at something..." the rogue mumbled as he walked back and forth.  "I just always assumed she was just staring off into space, but maybe you're right.  Maybe if we could figure out what she's staring at..."

Logan quickly turned towards the wall, and clambered up it, hanging on at the top.  He stared back to Tessara, and moved over a few feet, so he was directly in line with her eyes.  Then the rogue pulled himself up, staring off into the city, searching for anything of note, ignoring the protests of Karthach behind him.

12:16, Today: Logan rolled 23 using 1d20+4.  Climb.

Logan easily scampers up a trellis running along the garden wall and looks out across the city. Sasserine simmers in the mid-day sun, steamy and beautiful.

Logan lines himself up as best he can and finds that there isn't anything nearby that she is looking at. She is facing WSW, starting at a point which travels a little on the north side of Castle Teraknian, towards Shadowshore and then the Cudgel district beyond that. He needs more points to triangulate with if he's going to work out what is going on there.

Logan jumped down from the wall, landing in a crouch.  After a few moments, he rose to his feet again, brushing off his pants and moving over to his mother's side.  He bent down and whispered in her ear: "What are you looking at, Mom?"

Logan straightened up again, and turned to Karthach.  "I need a map.  Maybe I can  mark down a few places, where she's looking, and see if they all point to the same place.  If it's in Sasserine, I probably don't need to move her too far, maybe just a few blocks.  Or if I could remember where she's looking from our old house, that would even be enough."

His mother is no help, but Karthach rushes off and returns with the best map of Sasserine that the young thief has ever seen. The old dwarf refuses to take any payment for it.

It's the one on the last page of the player's guide:
https://paizo.com/dungeonissue...de/SavageTide_LR.pdf

Logan studies the map, and at Karthach's insistence defaces the map by drawing on the direction she is looking now and also the direction that she was looking when they lived in Shadowshore - it is no good, in both cases she was looking SWS so there isn't any way to triangulate. He needs more points if he is going to uncover this mystery.

Logan studies the map.  "So I need more to go off of then."  He studies the map.  "Something to the south, or at least the east or west."  The rogue looks to Tessara.  "Ready for an outing, mom?"

Assuming Tessara is able to keep up with him, Logan starts walking south, then eventually west.  He'll be able to tell at some point if she's still staring at Castle Teraknian, and if she's looking west or SW when they get down by the Vanderboren manor, he'll know it's there.

Tessara gives no answer. It also becomes clear that she just isn't up to walking any sort of real distance, so Karthack has to come to the rescue again. He insists on ordering a carriage and then joins them in the tour around the city. At each stop Logan and the dwarf carefully help the gentle elven woman down and then see which way she aligns herself.

They don't even need to leave the noble district to figure out that it isn't Castle Teraknian that she is looking at - it is something beyond that and to the west. They move through the winding and busy streets, first of the Azure district and then of the Sunrise Quarter. They stop in the Merchant's district - no, definitely to the west.

They cross over into the Cudgel district... ah-ha! She faces to the north-west. They cross into Crab street - she looks to the north. They reach Fury Street and then that is it. There is one building that she turns to face no matter which side of it they stop on, and it is a very peculiar large building made of grey stone.

A small brass plaque on the front door announces that it is the 'Church of the Whirling Fury', but the padlocked chains on the door also state that visitors are not welcome. The complete lack of windows is also a sign that this is not a religion that likes uninvited guests. Into the door a stone slab has been set with the church's religious symbol on it.

Logan studies the religious symbol, and shrugs, moving Tessara along and motioning for Karthack to follow.  Out of sight of the temple, he leans over to the dwarf.  "I'm not up on this sort of thing.  Do you you know anything about that symbol?"

Logan thinks back to his conversations in Shadowshore, trying to place the symbol.

Would Know: Local turn anything up?

Karthach shakes his head. "Never seen it before. But nothing special about that young man... there are a thousand little cults always coming and going from the city, but why the devil would your mother always be looking at this one?!"

OOC: Know: local is definitely worth a shot.

This message was last edited by the player at 18:40, Wed 08 June 2016.

Logan thinks back about the cults he's heard about in Shadowshore.  "Hmm, not ringing a bell, I don't think."  He turns to Karthach again.  "Know anyone who might have an idea what this cult is?  I suppose I could try asking around here."  He looked to Tessara.  "We should probably take her back to safety first, though.  Then maybe I can return.  Find a tavern nearby?  Someone must know something!"

09:27, Today: Logan rolled 5 using 1d20+3.  Know: Local.

OOC: Gee, five whole points for knowledge: local. What should you get for that roll?

Religion really isn't Logan's thing, and he isn't even in his home district so... Logan really doesn't recall seeing this holy symbol before, at least... not anywhere in the city. Bizarrely, he feels like he has seen something like it OUTSIDE the city, but... his one and only trip outside the city was to Kraken's Cove and that trip ended quickly with him being vivisected in the second room so where the frac did he see it outside the city?

OOC: That's what you get. More confusion :D

Anyway, don't let me down John, you have seen something like that symbol before in this game... Foreshadowing, remember?

On the tavern front Logan is able to think more clearly (surprise, surprise). He does in fact know of a tavern just around the corner. Bent Bertha's (owner and proprietor: Bertha) might be just the place to hunt down some more clues after his mother has been taken back to the safety of the shrine. If Logan dares facing the lady half-ogress with the hots for him that is.

Karthach gently escorts Tessera back into the carriage and with many wishes of luck to the young rogue heads back towards the better part of town. Logan is left standing outside the padlocked doors of the windowless 'church' in an unfamiliar part of the city.

Logan reluctantly enters into Bent Bertha's, though when he is halfway through the door it suddenly strikes him where he's seen that symbol before...when he died, and encountered the mysterious elf-like women in the afterlife, who seemed entirely too interested in what had happened to Tessara.  Logan shook his head, suddenly realizing he had been standing in the doorway for far too long.

He walked into the bar, putting enough coins on the counter for a drink, raising his head to smile sheepishly at the bartender.

What does it have to do with all that?  Exactly like that weapon I used in the afterlife.  I have to find out more about it.

Logan makes the short journey up past the Low Market and into Bent Bertha's, which is located in a dirty looking building wedged into the thin end of the triangular market place.

The large half-ogress is much as Logan remembers her - leaning up against the counter in her mostly empty bar (it is not yet midday and things are quiet) with a tankard in hand.

When Logan puts down the necessary coins she gives no sign of recognition, and merely slaps down a tankard on the table top and fills it with the grubby canal water that passes for beer in this place, before going out to the backroom. The half-elf figures he'll have to go through introductions again, but then leans to one side and catches sight of Bertha through the doorway - the giantess is straightening her hair in a cracked mirror hanging from a crooked nail in the cook-room. The rogue's heart sinks. She remembers him all too well.

The monstrous barmaid returns and fills her own tankard to the brim. "Pretty elf boy is back?" she states simply. "Drink!" she upends her tankard.

Yeah, you'll be needing to make drinking checks for each point of information you gain. Fail too many times and Logan will succumb to Bertha's 'charms'.

The mysterious church is location C2.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:35, Sun 03 July 2016.

Logan tried hide his grimace, forcing his mouth into a grin instead.  "Nice to see you too, Bertha."

He picked up the tankard, watching the unappetizing liquid swirl around, and thinking of the feasts at the Vanderboren Estate.  Frak, I'm never going to be happy living in Shadowshore again...

Clearing away the thoughts, Logan swallowed the tankard and slammed it down, wincing as the liquid did uncomfortable things to his stomach.

He leaned forward across the bar, staring at Bertha and giving her what he hoped was a good smile.  Bertha, you know everything that goes on around here, don't you?  I mean, you get lots of people coming into this bar and drinking, and talking.  I'm sure they don't think you're listening, but I know better.  Ever hear anything about a temple down Fury Street? Called the Church of the Whirling Fury, with the sign of swords and a whirlwind on it?"

Fort Save?
15:24, Today: Logan rolled 6 using 1d20+2.  Fort Save.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 14:22, Thu 07 July 2016.

OOC: Yeah, it is a fort save. I checked and the save was DC15 last time, so we'd better use that again.

Logan has failed his first save and entered stage one inebriation. The fun stage.

Bertha tilts her head back and drains her tankard in one gulp.

"Yes, Bertha knows it. The church with no windows. People go in and out of it. A certain type of people..." She pauses to refill their tankards. "Drink!"

Logan briefly grabbed the counter as the drink hit him, harder than he expected.  Does my alcohol tolerance reset every time I die?

He shook his head and concentrated on trying to get information from Bertha before his beer-addled mind decided to involve itself in less productive pursuits.

"Yes, exactly!" Logan spluttered, not even needed to pretend to be interested.  "That's the one!  What sort of people have you seen going in and out?"

Logan's going to get rapidly drunk at this pace!
13:41, Today: Logan rolled 9 using 1d20+2.  Fort Save 2.

:D Logan enters stage II intoxication. Please make an additional DC15 fort save or take 1d8 points of non-lethal damage.

Also, you saves against intoxication are at -2 from now on.



Bertha leans in. She smells of stale beer and also, strangely enough, fried onions. That's weird, because this bar doesn't even have fried onions on the menu - Logan knows because he specifically checked for them. Actually, he quite likes fried onions. Does she just cook them up for herself? His wondering mind is brought back into semi-focus by Bertha's answer.

"What type of people?" she pauses, dramatically. "Bad people little elf boy! All bad people. But it is what they do in there that is worst of all!" She refills her tankard and kicks the drink back into her throat where it disappears like water going down a plughole.

"Drink!"

Logan leans in, finding himself strangely attracted to Bertha's smell.  Mmm, I could go for some fried onions.  I wonder where she got them?

He is shaken from his reverie by the tankard slamming down in front of him.  He eyed it suspiciously, wondering if Bertha was doctoring his drink so that he'd get drunk faster.  He tried to look around, wondering if there a way to weasel his way out of additional drinking, but didn't see anything immediately.  I have to get through this.  Find out what I can about my mother.

Stealing his will, the rogue brought the mug to his lips and tossed it back, swallowing the liquid as best he could, then slamming it down again on the bar.

"There, my onion maiden.  You need to tell me more," the elf implored, forgetting about restraint and caution, "What exactly are they doing in there?"

HP: 33 (8 non-lethal)
11:48, Today: Logan rolled 5 using 1d8.  Non-lethal damage.
11:48, Today: Logan rolled 11 using 1d20.  Fort Save for further drunkenness.
11:47, Today: Logan rolled 7 using 1d20+2.  Fort Save for damage.

She leans in even closer, her wavey chestnut hair falling out from behind her shoulder and across Logan's arm. "They worship a storm demon!" she whispers hoarsely. "They sacrifice animals to it so the storms just pass right over the city. There are no windows, but there is a back door - that is where they bring the animals in. One of the regulars here saw what they were bringing in one night..." She pauses dramatically. "Giant chickens! Giant chickens to slaughter in the rituals! Chickens as big as men!"

Logan can't help but enjoy himself a little. Giant chickens? If that is the worst thing he has to face in order to find out the truth of his mother's affliction then that isn't so bad! Bertha is also beginning to make a lot more sense and damn it! The beer in this place isn't that bad either! The drinks flow and the night fades into oblivion.

The rogue wakes a few hours later to find himself tied up inside what he can only assume to be some sort of infernal contraption. His whole body shakes from the noise of the machinery and an extreme panic attack is only adverted by the occurrence of a dizzying bout of nausia. Also his head is pounding like he has been severely beaten. He jerks his head left and right to clear the long damn hair from his face and almost screams when he realises he is facing the sleeping back of Bertha - both of his forearms are trapped under the heavy neck of the half ogress. What on earth happened? He can't remember, but he feels it would be best to leave without waking her - this will unfortunately be hard to do with his hands twisted beneath her sleeping bulk. Maybe he should gnaw them off?

Logan slowly comes to, trying to look around, but finding himself trapped by Bertha's bulk.  He casts about for anything to help free himself. but finds nothing except bedding within reach.  Hoping the sweat on his arms is enough, the rogue tries to wriggle free.

15:43, Today: Logan rolled 13 using 1d20+12.  Escape Artist.

The thief successfully extracts himself without waking his sleeping beauty and makes it back to the street in front of the tavern shaken and nursing a bad hangover but otherwise physically unharmed.

It is three o'clock in the morning and the city is silent with only the sweating half moon and stars keeping Logan company. It seems that a trip to this 'Church of the Whirling Fury' might be his best option to uncover more information about what is plaguing his mother. The question is should he try it now, at night, or figure out someway to visit in daylight hours?

Logan sat on the stoop of Bent Bertha's, thinking about what he learned.  She did mention animals coming in by night.  I can't imagine it's actually giant chickens, but maybe I can sneak in if there's some activity, or waylay some of the delivery people...

Still mulling his options over, Logan made his down Fury Street, sticking close to cover, and decided to see if any activity was happening at the Church of the Whirling Fury while the rest of the city slumbered.

14:53, Today: Logan rolled 24 using 1d20+12.  Stealth.

The shaken Logan settles his nerves and then sets out around the block to the mysterious church. There is no sign of activity inside or outside the building, although obviously it is hard to tell what is happening inside since there are no windows.

The thief does locate the back entrance, but it is just as still and silent in the night moonlight as the rest of the building. Logan slinks into the shadows, climbs up a couple of concrete steps to what appears to be a small loading bay and then quietly tries the back door... locked. He notices something on the concrete floor though, picks it up and rubs it between his fingers in an attempt to analyse it. Some sort of grain? Corn? Chicken feed?!

Still moving quietly, the master thief pulls out his thieve's tools and sets to work on the lock.

12:05, Today: Logan rolled 22 using 1d20+14.  Pick Lock.

After a few seconds Logan has the door open. No traps. No alarms. Just the entranceway to some sort of storage room stacked with various supplies and sacks. There is a door at the far end of the storage room.

Logan enters the room.  The rogue takes a few seconds to look over the supplies for anything unusual, then makes his way to the door.  He listens for anything on the other side, and then opens the door if he hears nothing.

14:34, Today: Logan rolled 14 using 1d20+12.  Perception.

Logan only steals from people that are poorer than himself - but since that is everyone he spends a couple of minutes looking over the contents of the store room to see if there is anything worth nicking.

The goods are a little disappointing. Large sacks of flour, large sacks of potatoes, cheap spices like salt and pepper, and large sacks labeled as containing chicken feed stacked up in a pile taller than himself. The thief makes a small cut in the end of one of these and lets the contents flow through his fingers - yep, definitely chicken feed.

Seeing not much else to keep him occupied the rogue checks the door at the far end of the room. There is no noise and it is neither trapper nor locked so he goes through it.

On the other side is a grey stone room 50' long by 30' wide with vaulted ceilings and a dozen sturdy columns spread around the perimeter. Logan hears the door click softly closed behind him and when he tries the handle he finds to his consternation that the door is locked on this side.

Although the thief had indeed checked for traps on the external door and found none, he had missed the magical alarm cast on the area. That, along with taking a rather leisurely stroll through the storeroom, had given the occupants of the 'Church of the Whirling Fury' the time they needed to prepare for him. At that instant twelve grey robed and hooded figures step out from behind the pillars in the room and in unison draw their weapons.

Although the strongest thought in the thief's head is that he was very soon going to die, his mind had to also admit that it was a very eclectic collection of weapons facing him with none of his opponents holding a weapon the same as each other. A hand axe, a short sword, a glowing magical staff, a mithral rapier, a pair of scimitars... it was going to be an interesting abet short combat. The hooded figures were also a wide range of sizes ranging from halfling size right up bondy handed warrier who was almost seven feet tall.

The figure with the mithral rapier (who was normal human szie) stepped forward a half stride, his weapon lowered and ready. "Boy, you just choose the wrong frakking temple to try and rob."

There is something in the voice that startles Logan. Some in both the tone and the demeanor is very familiar to him.

OOC: Can you guess who it is? Hint: The text color should also be familiar. :D

Logan pauses, staring at the figure, trying to figure out why the voice sounded so familiar.  "Vorsh?  Or is it Larcos Dengrin?  What name are you going by now?  Is that you?  What are you doing here?"

The figure's sword lowers and the man pulls back his hood. Yes, it is indeed Logan's one-time employer, the erractic holy avenger Vorsh.

"What are you frakken doing here lad?" asks the man incredulously.

One of the other figures speaks up, the one with the two rapiers. Logan realizes to his surprise that it is a woman, her voice melodic and clear. "Do you know this miscreant Larcos Dengrin?" She is clearly surprised herself.

"Err, yes, Lady Silvermane. He is Theodric Merrion's son."

There is a shocked intake of breath around the ring and most of the other weapons a lowered substantially as well.

Logan looked around, as shocked by the turn of events as the people - the priests? - around him.  A hundred questions filled the young rogue's mind, but the first was the most pressing.  "You knew my father?  How?  I...I just found this place.  My mother has been staring directly towards your temple from across the city.  She knew it was here, and now I'm certain she knew it was linked to my father's death.  What do you know of it?  Of what ails her?"  By the end, Logan's voice, despite starting out uncertain, was desperate and pleading.  He hadn't intended to give away that much, but finding the people knew his father was too much.

"Tessara knows about this place? I am surprised! It has only been her for what, less than a year?" The man sometimes called 'Vorsh' looks over to the hooded figure of Lady Silvermane and she removes her cloak.

Logan is shocked for a second. The woman has striking resemblance to the 'mysterious elf like woman' that he met during his life after death experience. A mane of white hair, pointed elven ears and a dark completion. Even the face is similar.

"That is correct Holy Avenger," she says rather formally. "This temple was established 10 moons ago - this building was simply a storehouse for the lower market before we took it over and made the alterations. I do not see how Tessara Merrion could possibly know anything about it unless our attempts at secrecy and subterfuge have fallen far short of what we were aiming for."

"And anyway, your father was always very careful to keep his work separate from his home life lad. But, what is this of something ailing Tesara? What is it?" he seems to be genuinely concerned.

"Bah! If we're up early, let's at least get some breakfast!" bellows one of the hooded figure, shoving his hood back and heading out of the door at the far end of the room. Beneath the falling robes is revealed a tall Nordic looking man with bright orange hair and a strong physic.



"I need some beer. And oats. Beer on oats maybe," mutters the man as he rubs at his belly.

"That was Torin Freddricksdatter. Bezerker of the North Reaches," says Vorsh. "Good man, although likes his ale a little bit too much maybe, just don't ask him about his surname - he is a little sensitive about it," adds the ex-paladin a lowered voice. "What sort of sickness lad? Why didn't you go to the clerics?"

"I'll join you Torin," says a stocky figure who pushes back his hood and almost knocks off an impressive skull helmet.



"Bruce Skullhat. Rockholme." grunts the little dwarf, before trotting off to join the rapidly departing northman.

"Answer me boy," says Vorsh, grabbing Logan by the shoulder.

"Well, ifth we are doing introducthions, then pleasthe allow me to addth mine!" exclaims the voice of a young man. He shakes his head and lets his hood fall back revealing... the evil glowing eyes of an undead lich.



"How do you do! Pleasthed to meet you, I am Hamisth McDougall, formally of the Great Sthchool of Magic in Glantri City, and before that of the Provincthe of Crownguard. Oh, whatever is the matter?" The fact that the undead monster has a slight lisp does not make him any less threatening to Logan.

The rest of the circle of aimed figures start moving around, taking off their robes and introducing themselves or being introduced by others.

"By the goddess. Do none of you louts understand the meaning of the term 'SECRET CONCLAVE'," says Lady Silvermane, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

"Ahh, frac this. I'm going back to my bunk to get some kip," says a man in his early fifties with an impressive physic and long mane of bone-white hair. He snorts and rubs his nose as he wanders out through a different door to the others.



"Hmmm," mutters Vorsh. "Flin, I thought I told you to flush his powdered zzonga root down the privy."

The smallest figure steps forward, his hood already down and revealing a wizened old Halfling. "I did Larcos, but he just keeps buying more of it. It is as cheap as dirt in this shithole of a city."

The old man seems to remember Logan is still there. "Oh, but in other ways a very charming place. Um, well, I am Master Flin, druid of the Five Shires. And that was... err, he just calls himself 'Flash'. He was a gladiator in Thyatis before he joined us I think."

Logan whirls about as each person speaks, struggling to make sense of the shouted introductions as Vorsh tries to demand information from him.  "I....that is...."  Finally, he turns to Vorsh when the room has quieted.  "What's wrong with Tessara?  How come so many people know so much about my family, about my father, but hasn't paid any attention to her?  Or to me?  Ever since my father died...maybe got killed, she's been sliding downhill.  Now she's catatonic, barely moves or says anything.  Except that no matter where she is in the city, she stares right at this place.  The clerics - yes, I've gone to them, they can't help - noticed it first.  That's how I found this temple.  Wheeled her around the city to pinpoint this place, then snuck in after doing some disreputable things with a half-ogress to try and get more information - and all she could tell me is that you apparently house giant chickens!"  Logan finishes his rant, red-faced and panting, staring at Vorsh for help.

"Well I don't know what is frakken wrong with her kid, why do you think it has anything to do with us?" Vorsh pauses, and considers the rogue's words. "You say she keeps staring towards THIS building. Really? No matter where she is in the city and even if she can't see it? That is really..." he turns to Lady Silvermane. The rest of the temple occupants have moved off to the breakfast room, leaving the three of them alone. "...unusual. Lady Silvermane, do you have any idea of what is going on?"

The silver haired elf-like woman shakes her head. "That is very strange. Especially since we have only been here for about a year, although I think this was actually a 'whirling fury' safe house for many years before that. Well, quite a mystery, but not much we can do about it," she adds rather briskly and starts heading out of the room.

"Err... Lady Silverman, you could commune with the Whirling Fury and ask for information on this matter?"

"What? Disturb the goddess over something so trivial? And for someone who is not even a follower? I don't think so?"

Vorsh looks at Logan. "Well I hate to think of the spouse of one of our own not being looked after, especially the wife of the great Theodric Merrion. Perhaps you could do it on my behalf?"

The elven featured lady scoffs. "Larcos. You have fought alongside us for many years I hear, but you are not a follower of the Whirling Fury and therefore not eligible for such assistance either. It is simply out of the question." She leaves, not following the other by going out a side door.

"Ah well lad, don't worry. We'll figure out a way to get to the bottom of this mystery with Tessara, come and have some breakfast and we'll talk about it... and your father if you want." He leads Logan into the next room where the morning meal is getting started at high volume with almost everyone around the table talking at the top of their voices - trading barbed comments, bragging, joking...

"Oh, and about the giant chickens...You need to meet someone..." adds Vorsh.

The figure entering at the far end of the room removes his hood. It is a large humanoid with avian facial features, feathers and chicken-like legs.



"Lord Buzzbeak of the Gyerian Nations at your service young man!" says the strange man as he makes a clumbsy bow at the waist. He then takes a seat and starts pecking at some coarse grain on a plate.

OOC: Sigh. It is not something that us Mystara fanboys like talking about much, but giant warrior chickens are in fact cannon in this world, so here we are...

Logan is somewhat mollified by Vorsh's response to his frantic query, and quietly tries to take in the conversation around him.  A thousand question still fill the half-elf's mind, but at least he has made some progress towards an understanding.

The rogue maintains his silence until the introduction of Lord Buzzbeak, and Logan stops still.

"What in the frak?!  She was actually telling the truth?  I was convinced Bertha was a little drunk, either when she told me or...but there are actually are people here that could be mistaken..."

The rogue clears his throat.  "Ah, excuse me, Lord Buzzbeak.  Nice to meet you."

Logan and Vorsh sit down to eat with the rest of the group. "So, you're probably trying to figure out who we are? Well the sign on the front door is correct, this is the Church of the Whirling Furry. We are committed to hunting down and destroying demons and those who act to increase demonic influence on this world. You father was one of us back in the early days. In fact, he was the best of us and quite a legend."

Logan shakes his head.  "What, no?  My father was a...a merchant, a trader.  Not some demon-hunter."  the rogue looks around the room.  "But...if what you're saying is true...and that's a big if, does it have anything to do with his death?  I can't imagine a demon-hunter could be killed by a runaway cart.  Was the whole thing a frame?  Assuming, of course, that you're not just trying to pull one over on me.  Am I supposed to take your word on all this?"  Logan looks down, not knowing what to think.

"Pfft! Merchant! Run-away cart! Who told you such nonsense? He was a demon-hunter alright. And Logan? And this is the important bit, it was not confirmed that he died, he just disappeared." Vorsh shrugs. "Those who serve the Whirling Fury are an unpredictable lot."

A suave looking man in an embroidered blouse interjects. "My good fellow. Not all of use are so unpredictable." He turns to look at Logan. "Cronwyn Thraddan of the Republic of Darokin at your service." He twills one end of his moustache theatrically.



"Vorsha-san," says an oriental man with a just as impressive moustache. "The young-a man-a has a point-a," he continues in heavily accented common tongue. "Are you indeed-a talking about-a the same man-a?"



"Yatsu Hoshimoto, I can assure you that I knew Logan's father very well. We fought alongside each other for several years before Theodric Merrion just up and disappeared one day. Not such an unusual event, you are a very chaotic bunch..." he looks at Cronwyn. "...on average I mean."

A man at the far end of the table rises and Logan sees that he has kept his face hidden the whole time that the rest of been eating. The man bows and walks out of the room without saying a word.



"That was... uh, well, we don't actually know his name because he doesn't speak the common tongue, but he comes with good references. We asked him to write his name down once and he finally seemed to understand what we wanted after an hour of explaining it. He wrote it down in that crazy flowing script they use in the Sind Desert... writing from right to left. Anyway, we got it translated and the scholar said it meant 'Lion of Perfection' so that is what we call him." Vorsh shrugs. "If he can use the scimitar as well as he keeps his eight pack in shape then he is no doubt a skilful warrior."

The last whirling fury pounds a clenched fist against his chest and then speaks up. "I am 'Fights-with-Lightning'. What about you Logan? What do you stand for? And what do you know of the Whirling Fury?"


OOC: Whew! That's it! With Vorsh and Lady Silvermane thrown into the bargain that is 12 Whirling Furies ready for action.

Logan's head spins with the continued introductions and information about his father.  "What do you mean, unpredictable?  Are you saying my father might have just left us?  Left his son alone with his wife, who descended into some kind of deep depression because of the loss of her husband?  How is that any better?  It just makes my father a fracking callous frack instead of someone who experienced a terrible accident.  If he's 'unpredictable', then where has been all this time when Tessara and I were scraping by in Shadowshore, little better than starving?"

He looks to Fights-with-Lightning.  "I guess that's my answer.  I stand for surviving, and it's mighty hard to do that when you're on your own, taking care of your sick mother in Shadowshore.  I suppose, I might say that I'm against those who try to steal from the downtrodden, though, as Vorsh knows, I don't usually ask a lot of questions if I'm hired for a job.  Can someone tell me in straight words, what exactly this Whirling Fury is?"

"Out fighting demons lad! Out saving the human race from demonic enslavement. I would say that is more important than anything else."

"Skål!" yells out Torin Freddricksdatter, and waves a large earthen jug in the air.

"Aye, I'll drink to that," answers the dwarf Brue Skullhat who is sitting by his side. They clink glasses.

He looks to Fights-with-Lightning.  "I guess that's my answer.  I stand for surviving, and it's mighty hard to do that when you're on your own, taking care of your sick mother in Shadowshore.  I suppose, I might say that I'm against those who try to steal from the downtrodden, though, as Vorsh knows, I don't usually ask a lot of questions if I'm hired for a job.  Can someone tell me in straight words, what exactly this Whirling Fury is?"</quote>

"The Whirling Fury is Gwynharwyf (gwin-HAR-wif), one of the eladrin and patroness of barbarians." The old warrior has to pause as another round of rowdy toasts breaks out at the mention of the goddess' name. "And her church is devoted to opposing the influence of demons on the Prime Material Plane. That is what we do," he looks at Logan sternly. "And that is what you should be a part of as well. It is in your blood lad."

OOC. Membership of the Church of the Whirling Fury requires very little - just an agreement to assist the other members when demonic incisions are detected. And there is the deal that if Logan succeeds in becoming a full member then Lady Silvermane would query what ails Logan's mother. Becoming a full member gives access to the Champion of Gwynharwyf and Holy Avenger prestige classes...

...unfortunately these prestige classes all suck, but we could put our heads together and make a homebrew version.

If Logan wants to join, he'll first need to prove himself in a battle against forces from the Abyss. Good luck with that. :D
This message was last edited by the player at 15:22, Sun 04 Sept 2016.

Logan thinks it over.  "Defending against demonic threats?  Does that sort of thing happen frequently?  On the streets in Shadowshore, I've mostly seen evils of a more human sort.  And the business with Aubreck, though that was caused by humans at the root, too.  I don't know how much I could help against demons, though I'd jump at anything that let me find out more about what's ailing my mother, aid the city, and uncover anything I could about my father.  What if, what if I had a conflict?  I'm working for Lavinia Vanderboren, and it's only with her patronage that I can afford to keep Tessara in halfway decent housing.  I wouldn't want to jeopardize that."

"You'd be surprised lad, this city is at the center of something big - demonic influence-wise that is. And that is why so many of us are gathered her."

"We've got all the major noble families of the city under watch and Lavinia isn't up to anything bad, so I can't imagine there being a conflict. Her little brother, Vanthus, on the other hand was a bad egg. Probably just as well that he has disappeared."

"Well now, let's make a deal. If you see or hear of anything that would be of interest to the Whirling Furies then let us know straight away. Likewise, if we decide to make a move on anything I will also get in touch with you. That way you have a good chance to prove yourself and then Lady Silvermane will have no excuse for not getting in contact with her goddess and finding our what is going on."

OOC: And this is where we have to pause a little bit until the other players catch up with their character arc storylines.

The day after the events in the House of Porphyry Logan returns to the Church of the Whirling Fury. After having his sight restored, Lady Silvermane announces that she considers Logan has proved himself as an enemy of demonkind and an ally of Gwynharwyf. She is willing to cast 'commune' and ask the questions that Logan needs answered.

Logan is silent after his sight restored, his usual attitude replaced with a more somber one.  First, the eerie silence of the Church of the Whirling fury is imposing, after the festive atmosphere now absent with the death of so many of its members.  Second, Logan finally might have the chance to discover what exactly happened to his father and mother, something that might help explain everything in his life.

"Uh...I know I've had time to think this over, but now that I can actually ask, I hardly know where to begin.  First, thanks to you, Lady Silvermane, and for any help that Gwnharwyf can actually give.  I guess I'd like to start at the beginning of this: What actually happened to my father?  How did he die?  Strike that, did he die?  What happened to my mother?  Why is Tessara able to locate this building in Sasserine, even when she can't see it?"

OOC: I forgot to mention, but at Karthack's insistence, Logan's mother is also present for the questioning. The old dwarf calmly sits the now totally comatose and unresisting elven lady down on a seat and waits for the proceedings to begin.

Lady Silvermane holds up her hand. "Please Logan, patience, patience! We will see how much Gwnharwyf knows and how much the whirling fury is willing to share."

The cleric gets comfortable in a seat and then begins the long process of casting the high level spell that will allow here to communicate with her goddess. The casting takes a long time - around ten minutes - but eventually Silvermane's eyes roll back in her head and her breathing becomes so shallow that it seems like it almost stops.

"Oh Whirling Fury, consort to the Court of Stars, beloved of barbarian champions of light, bestow your presence upon us."

This seems to work because a few seconds later she begins with Logan's questions.

"What happened to the father of Logan Merrion of Shadowshore?"

Silvermane's breath catches in her throat. She speaks again, but the voice is not her own. More melodic and deeper.

"He left when duty called."

Silvermane continues, her voice her own again.

"How did he die."

"He did not die."

"What happened to Logan's mother?"

"She stayed in Sasserine."

"Why is his mother drawn to this building in Sasserine?"

Several seconds pass... much longer than with the other questions. Finally Silvermane's head jerks back and her whole body arches. She cries out in pain and then flops forward.

"Ugh... I am sorry Logan... <gasp> Our goddess broke contact. <cough> Something important must have come up. She left in a hurry..." 

Logan stayed quiet while the ceremony began, and then sat in stunned silence for a few seconds after it ends.  He looks from Karthack to Silvermane and back again.  "What kind of frackin answer was that?!  'She stayed in Sasserine!'  I hardly need the aid of a goddess to tell me that!  'He left when duty called'!  That's not an answer!  That's a meaningless platitude."

The half-elf gets up, and paces back and forth, and after pounding on the wall, seems to have recovered some control over his emotions.  He turns back to Kartchack and Tessara, face flushed, and his excitement is evident, as well as a rising anger.  "But he is ALIVE!  Where has been, though?  What duty is more important than this."

Logan returns to his mother's side, bending down to kiss the top of her head.  "I'll find him, mom, I promise.  I can't imagine what would have kept him from us, but I'll find out."

Logan's mother responds to his touch and looks up at him - the glazed over look in her eyes is totally gone.

"Logan. Don't fixate on him. That was my mistake." Karthack jumps to his feet in surprise.

She looks around the room and then at Logan again. "Where are we Logan? What am I doing here?! This isn't Shadowshore."

Logan stumbles back, his expression mirroring Karthach's look of surprise.

"Mom....what?  How?  What happened?"

Logan's gaze flies around the room, looking from Karthach, to Tessara, to Silvermane, and finally back to Tessara.  Finally, he gives a shaking exhale, and tentatively steps forward, reaching out his arms to encircle his mother, glad to feel a response from her.

Completely forgetting his fervor over finding his father, Logan addresses Tessara: "I don't understand.  What happened?  Where have you been the past three years?"

Looking around, he gives a nervous laugh. "Yeah, we're not in Shadowshore anymore.  I, uh, took a job helping a noblewoman solve some problems, and was able to put you up in a temple.  Karthach over here is one of your caretakers.  He's the one who noticed you were staring...well, exactly where we are now.  A rather new temple in the Cudgel district, dedicated to some demon-fighting cult that Dad was part of.  Still is part of?"  Logan shakes his head, leaving in to give his mother another quick squeeze.

"Ugh, oh Logan. It is a long story." The elven woman draws her son close. "But the main point is that when your father left he said something to me. That..." she hesitates. "That made me act like that."



"Yes, yes, your father was a demon-hunter Logan. I'm sorry I wasn't more honest about that, but... I couldn't be, you see..."

Logan relaxes as Tessara holds him, for the first time realizing how much he missed this simple part of being a son.

Then, mulling over his mother's words, Logan stiffens, drawing back.  "Wait...so, you knew about Dad and the demon-fighting cult?  I thought that was a secret, even from you?"  Logan huffs: "Or just a secret from me?"

He stands, drawing more space between himself and his mother, the earlier feelings fleeting: "Why don't you start at the beginning, and fill me in on everything you've kept me in the dark about?"

"No, no, it wasn't like that Logan! You were so young, we couldn't tell you back then. And then... after your father left... I just *couldn't* tell you."



OOC: Gee, when did Logan get so pissy?

Tessara reaches out to her son, then lets her hand drop. "Okay Logan, I will tell you. Even though it is breaking my word to your father, I think that he would understand."

"Logan, as you may have already worked out, your father was not a merchant. He was a demon hunter and a champion of Gwynharwyf. We met here in the city and fell in love, and tried to live as normal life as possible - he loved you very much Logan and spent all the time with you that he could."

"<sigh> But then one day he said he was going away on a mission. He looked at me... very firmly, locking eyes with me... and said, 'Wait for me, watch for me, and tell no-one'. Well, at first I did just that, but after a while it was strange, it was like a compulsion." Tessara shudders. "I couldn't stop looking towards the safe house where I knew he always came and went from - that is this building we are in now. And even when I tried to tell people what I was doing... <choke> the words just wouldn't come out!"

"It just got worse and worse until eventually all I could think about was waiting and watching for him, and about keeping silent. I am so sorry Logan! You grew up so alone because of that. And we ended up in Shadowshore. I swear, I have only faint memories of the last couple of years. I must have been almost catatonic!"

Vorsh nods his head sagely. "I geas. That is what it was."

The eladrin scoffs. "Larcos Dengrin, I can actually cast a geas and I can tell you that is not how they work!"

Logan tentatively reaches out a hand to his mother again, enjoying seeing her active again.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to explode like that.  It's all so much to take in.  I mean, a week ago, I didn't know that dad was a demon hunter, and then I thought it had done something to you.  But then I find out you did know..."  Logan trails off, and sighs.  "I'm sorry.  There's years to catch up on, and we needn't start with fighting."

He turns to Vorsh and Lady Silvermane, trying to keep the irritated edge out of his voice when he addresses the Eladrin.  "I don't understand, a geas?  There isn't some secret ritual of preserving your identity that you practice that might have gone awry?  What, exactly, do you think happened to my mother, then?"

OOC: I think Logan's being jerked around so much now that he doesn't know what to believe.  I mean, everything he's known about his father has been a lie, and then he finds out his mother knew right after she recovered from her catatonic state?  I don't think he's pissy so much as bewildered, but it's interesting to try and think how he would react.

It is Vorsh who answers. "Lad, a geas is a magic compulsion that forces somebody to perform a certain action. For example, like waiting for somebody to come back and..."

"...No, no, no," interrupts Lady Silvermane. "It can only be used for simple tasks, AND it wears of over time - the spell won't last more than a couple of weeks at the absolute maximum."

Vorsh continues on, ignoring her comment. "What was it that Tessara said she was doing? 'Wait, watch and tell no-one.' Well, that is pretty much what happened... The fact that it happened over many years just means that the spellcaster must have been a mighty one."

The Eladrin scoffs. "And who cast this mighty spell, pray tell, Larcos Dengrin? Theodric Merrion was no mage, nor a cleric. He was a tough barbarian and a fantastic demon-hunter but didn't have access to that level of magic."

Vorsh shrugs. "I don't know how this puzzle all fits together but there was something of great power done to poor Tessara Merrion." The ex-paladin puts his hand on her shoulder. "In any case we are glad to have you back with us."

OOC: And that is pretty much where we will leave it for now. We will dig more into Logan's story arc later in the story.

Tessara's revival changes many things. Logan feels that a great weight has been lifted from his heart and starts enjoying life more and more as the weeks pass and his mother continues her recovery. She is still weak from years of inactivity, but she is an Elf and the lost years don't weigh on her as much as they would've on a human. She still stays in the Shrine of Art and Beauty and enjoys her room adjoining the garden very much now (Logan doesn't have the heart to tell her that it is costing him 2,000 gp/month which is his entire allowance from Lavinia), and also joins Logan as he carries out his now busy life.

Vorsh insists on the young half-elf training in the Church of the Whirling Fury. Since they are a little short of barbarians to begin with (they're all dead), the holy avenger himself starts teaching Logan some of the final points of swordsmanship, really raising the rogue's game appreciably. His mother watches the lessons, seemingly impressed by what she sees.

When some replacement barbarians do start drifting in, they also take a hand in Logan's tuition. There is no way that the mellow half-elf is ever going to become a barbarian himself - he just doesn't have the rage in him - but he does benefit from the physical conditioning that they put him through. The wiry Shadowshore actually begins to put some meat on his frame and looks good for it.

On the other hand, Lady Silvermane's attempts to teach Logan some basic arcane spellcasting end in total failure. Despite having a strong heritage for it, Logan is unable to channel the chaotic healing magics of Gwynharwyf and the Eladrin eventually throws her hands up in disgust, saying that the half-elf is thicker than any barbarian from the icy northern wastes that she had ever taught.

Logan therefore does not become a 'Champion of Gwynharwyf', but rather follows his own path. After a few months of intense training he becomes something unique and even invents a name for it - although he mentions this to no-one else. He starts thinking of himself as 'Gwynharwyf's Skillful Blade' and hopes that he might in someone prove as worthy as his father.

OOC: Does this sit okay with you John?

That all sounds good to me!