The party eventually sets out from Drellin's Ferry eastward along The Dawn Way, bound first toward the tanneries just outside of Terrelton and then eventually deeper into the Nimon Hills to seek out the Sanctum of the Insatiable Savant. News has come to their ears of the Jackals' predations along the road, with their new companion, Charlotte, having some first-hand experience with this band of miscreants. With this in mind, they remain vigilant during their daylong walk toward Terrelton.

The weather is warm and hazy throughout, with barely a wisp of feathery silvered clouds to block out the blazing sun. It is warm and dusty now, but in but a few months when summer is upon the Vale, it will be doubly so. A distant line of dark green north of the Dawn Way serves as a visual reminder of the Witchwood, that ancient forest standing as a siren for sun-drenched travelers to seek out elusive shade. To the south, mile upon of trackless savanna stretching all the way to the distant and formidable Wyvernwatch Mountains--these appearing only as a dim visage through the haze.

The party makes good progress throughout the day and save for a few encounters with passing merchant wagons bound for Drellin's Ferry, finds their travel uneventful. After a long days' walk, the party arrives at Terrelton and is assaulted by the odiousness of this dusty town. To say the livestock outnumbers people is a severe understatement. Numerous farms and ranches border the town, boasting an impressive number of cattle and pigs that root at stubborn grass and brush that rise up from reddish-orange earth.

Terrelton is a dusty town that gets by on the livestock and leather trades and most shops in the small town are devoted to this industry. The town has but a single inn, The Tawny Hide, which most refer to as either Tawny's or The Hide. Just outside the town, near the start of the Nimon Hills, the party spies a plume of dark smoke hanging above a cluster of small buildings and workshops. These are the tanneries and they contribute mightily to the olfactory barrage. How anyone would choose to live in such a place is a mystery, but maybe for some there is no choice in the matter.

With nightfall approaching and a long day's travel behind them, the party secures accommodations at the inn and inquires about Yhus' kin. The innkeep knows Yhus' family and says they dwell in a hovel just outside the tanneries and provides directions as best he is able.

After a short rest, the party sets out toward the hovel. A short walk later, the party comes upon it, a squat ramshackle building with a weedy vegetable and herb garden, a couple of chickens pecking at bugs in the cracked soil and a mangy dog chewing its tail. The dog's tail wacks the ground a few times as they approach and lets out a couple of yaps before a middle-aged man emerges from the hovel batting away a swarm of flies that instantly greets his appearance through the curtained door. Behind him a buxom woman and a brood of eager young mouths file out, curious about the adventurers' appearance at their meager abode.

The man introduces himself as Ned while wiping his calloused hands on his soiled tunic and trousers.

"Hello," he calls out, "What can I do for you folk?" he asks.

OOC: We'll play through this and then I will set up the adventure.

"My name is Sister Eoni," she introduced with a wan smile.  "My companions and I have traveled with your son, Yhus.

"We..." she broke off for a moment and looked about at the children gathered around them.  "Is there somewhere we could speak?"

She knew how difficult and important this task was but she still felt unprepared.  Marklin may not have put any value in the task but in honoring the fallen, they strengthened what bound them together.  Yhus was not just a piece of broken equipment to be discarded, none of them were.

Yhus, like any of them, deserved to be remembered by those that loved him.  His family needed to know how he'd died and be proud of his bravery.

But not in front of the children.

Ned steps clear of the hovel while shooing his children back inside, "Inside. The lot of you. Mind your ma."

The man's face becomes slightly concerned as he approaches the adventurers. "Is Yhus well?" he asks, a twinge of hope in his voice his son had done well for himself. Yhus had gone away to study at a temple and had always promised to return him to help his struggling family, but as of yet, that had not happened.

 Marklin stood there,taking in the scene of the Cleric and the poor family. When the man asked if his son yet lived, the Warrior responded in the traditional way. " Your son returned upon his shield, in a manner of speaking. He was brave and died well."

Valthur stares at his boots while Eoni and Marklin break the news to Yhus's parents. The young cleric did indeed die fighting the good fight, but he doubts his family will take much solace in the news. Humans are funny that way. Even with lives as short as theirs, they grieve heavily at its loss. He cringes in anticipation of their response.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:02, Mon 30 Jan 2017.

As Eoni speaks, Aldara tries to hide her unease at the prospect of breaking the news.  Especially around the children.  Thankfully, Ned dismisses said children...and Marklin breaks the news.

All the mage will do, is give the poor man a nod.

Sarah hangs back, and from her position just looks around.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:46, Mon 30 Jan 2017.

"We discovered a sickness in the Witchwood," Eoni continued quickly.  She'd hoped to ease into the telling of Yhus' death but Marklin... was Marklin.

"After many trials, we were bewitched by an ancient mad wood spirit.  We overcame it in the end, but brave Yhus had fallen.  Some of us might not have been here without him.

"We will miss his companionship."

She swung her pack around and pulled a purse from one of it's pockets.  The Sister of Avandra held it out.  "This was his share of what we'd accomplished when he fell.  It was his last wish for it to be for his family."

She prayed that he wouldn't reject it out of grief.  From their surroundings and the number of children, it looked as though they needed it badly.

 Marklin was not one for fancy words, but direct action. He saw the state of the hovel, the way the father and children where garbed. The Warrior dropped his pack and removed a fat purse. He offered it toward the father of Yhus, “ This was part of your sons share, as well. Better to not put all the eggs in one basket.” The Warrior said in a neutral tone of voice.

Valthur glances up at Marklin in astonishment, astonished first by the fact that the fighter still had any money left after gambling in Drellin's Ferry for the past week and even more astonished to see him give it away with no more than a passing thought.

Yhus' father receives Marklin's brash news with a certain degree of stoicism. He exhales slightly and stares down at his feet a moment before looking beyond the adventurers at some indeterminate point in the distance. When Eoni cuts in with additional information to soften the blow, he hears her words but their meaning is lost in a jumble of fleeting thoughts. His eldest had made good of himself, but in the end it didn't amount to much.

Ned composes his thoughts and finally responds, "Well, it brings me some measure of relief to know Yhus helped you lot." Looking away again, "that was his way. Always seeing the good in people."

"And it was mighty right of you to tell me yourself. Not much to be done for now I guess," he adds, his body language sunken and defeated.

Ned offers his thanks to everyone present and says his heart is gladdened to know he threw his lot in with a group of friends who cared enough to come out of their way to do the right thing. He accepts Eoni and Marklin's offering and says he will put it to good use, maybe rebuilding the family farm which was burned out by goblins about a year back.

"We weren't always tannery wage squatters," he adds his voice a mixture of pride and sadness.

"Thank you. May Pelor's blessings be upon you," he says.

Eoni bowed to Yhus' parents and turned away before they could see the tears in her eyes.  She felt that they'd failed the young follower of Pelor and prayed that it would never happen again.

From her vantage point in the back of the gathering, Sarah watches the adults talk.

Valthur lifts his gaze up from his boots to look Ned momentarily in the eye. He opens his mouth to say something meaningful, but realizes he has no words for the father. Instead, the dwarf nods, then turns to go.

This discussion is almost as discomforting as our journey into that rotten tree trunk, he concludes as he takes a cautious step away from the meeting, hoping the others follow his lead. Best we put it behind us.

Having completed their solemn duty to deliver news of Yhus' fate to his family, the party departs from the tannery hovels to find accommodations at the Tawny Hide. The inn is of meager quality and heavily run down, but the arrangements prove satisfactory enough for all involved. The patrons are a healthy mix of locals and passers-through, the latter consisting largely of trappers and furriers who have brought hides and pelts to be sold in the dusty village's central market. Conversation throughout the inn invariably revolves around the tanneries and related industries, though the parry does overhear one particularly interesting tale while taking their evening meal in the crowded dining hall.

The Beast of Barren Hill, a local storyteller of excellent quality calls it. Apparently a ferocious beast prowls the nearby Nimon Hills, wantonly preying on local cattle and sheep that graze the surrounding countryside.

"Hunters too have perished!" a drunk cuts in.

The storyteller continues, "tales of the Beast of Barren Hill have spread far and wide, as you may well know," he relates to an enthralled crowd.

"Stories of its attacks on men, women and children can be heard around firesides for miles around. Villagers rush in from their tasks at night and armed guards watch over livestock."

"The Beast shows no fear of fire or blade and has an uncanny ability to avoid traps to boot!"

"Many have tried to track down and slay the beast, yet none have been successful..."

"Large as a man..."

"Larger," another cuts in.

"Covered in black fur, blacker than pitch!" the storyteller continues despite the interruption. "And the teeth and claws!"

"Larger than a man's sword, each" he whispers for emphasis.

The storyteller continues his tale and says it is not uncommon to find remnants of the Beast's latest prey in the hills outside of town, but never is there enough pieces to identify the bodies.

Another villager picks up and says a local curse is to be blames, claiming goblins used to inhabit the caves beneath Barren Hill and ust have awakened something terrible. Whatever the case, there are no traces of the goblins either. Perhaps the Beast ate them too, he says.

Continuing, the storyteller says tracking the Beast is near impossible because it inexplicably leaves no tracks after its attacks. But no matter, everyone in Terrelton knows where the Barrenl Hill caves are, so it's not like one couldn't find it if they were seekinbg certain death.

"A handsome reward to the hunter who is mighty enough to fell the Beast of Barren Hill," the drunk says. Apparently a cattle baron has offered a 300 gp bounty to any who slay the beast.

As it turns out, Barren Hill lies near the Sanctum of the Insatiable Savant. So apparently, Ologeon's mission carries other complications, none of which were known when the party set out from Drellin's Ferry.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:57, Mon 06 Feb 2017.

"That sounds like something to avoid," Eoni responded quietly to the others upon hearing the tale.  "Hopefully it hunts by night and we won't see any sign of it."

They'd paid dearly for the last 300 gold that they'd earned and didn't need to lose anyone else.  If all went well, they'd be returned from the Savant by dark the next day and on to Drellin's Ferry after that.

Sarah sits transfixed as the tales are told, and her eyes grow wider with each embellishment of the Beast's prowess and exploits.

 While the locals bedazzled some of the group, with tales of monsters and so forth, Marklin busied himself by sampling the Inn's ale. He needed many samples of the local brew, in order to make an informed decision, as to its worthiness.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:49, Mon 06 Feb 2017.

Having read her fair share of fiendish folios and monstrous manuals during her studies, Aldara attempts to place what these scared people might be talking about...so that she knows what to be wary of.

Attempting to identify this creature based on its dwelling, description...

"If it tries to hunt us," Valthur boasts, his confidence aided by a pint or two of the local ale. "then it may well become acquainted with my new battle axe. We'll see how bold it is then."

Although smiling widely as he clanks his empty mug on the table, like Eoni he recalls the price paid for their last reward and hopes for no similar payments this time.

"Well, that depends"  Charlotte chimes in.  "Money is always useful, and removing angry and ravenous creatures is usually a decent thing to do.  On the other hand, it's also not exactly the task at hand, and rumors are rarely worth taking exceptional risks or time out of your schedule to follow up."

Logically laying out the pros and cons of these kinds of things was always useful.

"Beyond that though, something that's clever enough to avoid traps is usually intelligent, and approaching an intelligent and powerful creature is an excellent way to have a bad time.  Especially if it's not actively causing any trouble and is more a local hazard.  I mean, certainly, if that changes, then it becomes important to bring it to heel, but I certainly couldn't advocate taking such a risk for something that's largely only snipping off cattle and other livestock.  Not without a very good grasp of what it is and the appropriate equipment to overcome it."

With the help of several drinks, Valthur's courage, along with his anxiousness to do something more than talk and plan, is even higher than usual. "Then tomorrow let's head off to this Sanctum of the Insensational Savant, or whatever he's called. We've got the papers. Let's see if he knows what they say. Maybe we'll run into this beast on the way and can take care of that matter while we're at it."

The locals' accounts of the Beast's description yield no clues to Aldara about what it could possibly. The sky's the limit really: anything from a panther to a manticore really. Big, dark shaggy furred creature with claws and teeth.

The party spends the rest of the evening at the Tawny Hide, eventually retiring to their rooms for an early start in the morning.

OOC: I take the plan is to head out in the morning in the direction of the Savant's Sanctum, using the directions Ologeon provided?

Did any of you wish to accomplish anything else before departing Terrelton?

Making sure that no one but her companions are able to hear her, lest the frightened villagers be filled with hope, Aldara says, "Well, if it encounters us, it'll probably scarper off.  It seems intelligent, if not cowardly, preferring lambs and loners, and not actual challenges." Despite having no idea what this dreadful creature is, the mage nonetheless seems fairly confident in that "I have no idea what I'm talking about way" that gets adventuring types of all walks killed, maimed, captured, arrested, or reprimanded by elderly Halflings.

"I've had my fill of stories for the night," Eoni stated as she stood.  "We'll meet at early morn and set off in the direction we've been given.

"Sleep well."

Sarah curls up under her blanket and tries to go to sleep.

With nothing better to do, no mages to pester for their knowledge, or even games of chance to play - Aldara did like hearing of how Marklin and Valthur fared the other times! - Aldara retires to her room, dreaming not of the things mages usually do, but of Worgs (as were illustrated in the books from which she learned about them) and livestock.  A confident adventurer, indeed.

Provided there are no interruptions, she will early, feeling much like one does after a frightening dream.

Spells memorised are remaining the same.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:46, Tue 14 Feb 2017.

 Marklin came to the room he shared with the Dwarf, around midnight. Before that, the rest of group had drifted off to their rooms, as Marklin remained behind trying to make time with  the bar maid. The Warrior had a frown, as he made ready for his bed. Just before Marklin blew out the candle, the light revealed the distinct outline of a hand print on the side of his face. He looked at Dwarf.. “Don’t ask.” Then blew it out, and rolled over in his bed.

The party is up early the next morning, eager to depart toward Nimon Hills to seek out the Sanctum of the Insatiable Savant. It is warm and hazy as the party begins their walk eastward along the Dawn Way.

From Terrelton, the party walks for about three hours before reaching a dirt track which veers off the Dawn Way, heading southward through the Nimon Hills. Here the party heads south, a roll of brown hills stretching away to either side. Sometime toward mid to later afternoon the party spies a desolate hill in the distance. To the east of the dirt track, about a mile distant, a hill rises from the surrounding countryside like a proud nail. A small marble structure sits atop the hill, a mausoleum. This is the sanctum Sertieren told the party about back in Drellin's Ferry.

The party is presently about a mile away from the mausoleum and still in the dirt track which continues southward across Elsir Vale, eventually meeting the Wyvernwatch Mountains. The Nimon Hills stretch away to the west and east. The Beast of Barren Hill is rumored to range somewhere west of the party's current location. Sunset will occur in about 4 hours.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:26, Fri 17 Feb 2017.

"We better hurry if we hope to get back to Terrelton before sunset," Eoni said, stepping off the dirt track to head for the distant structure.

"I just hope the rest of what Ologeon has told us is as accurate as his directions."

Eoni really didn't want to be among the hills where the beast roamed after dark.  Marklin and Valthur might have felt invincible but she'd seen them bleed and knew they could die as any other.

As Yhus had.

 Marklin looked around for any signs of a potential threat. " Aye, let us make for that bloody

mausoleum.and see what is what."

Sarah keeps within a step of someone (anyone) in the party as she occasionally shoots nervous glances to the west.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:44, Thu 16 Feb 2017.

Valthur sizes up the mausoleum in the distance, managing to keep his nerves at least somewhat in check. "Well," he finally concludes, wiping the sweat from his brow. "at least it's not a rotting tree. Let's have a closer look."

"Cheeful..." Aldara murmurs, looking at the mausoleum.  She steps closer to the warriors, like any smart mage would do!

The party veers off the worn path and follows a trace of a footpath leading toward the mausoleum at the top of the hill. It does not appear very much, if any, foot traffic has passed this way, suggesting the Savant doesn't receive many visitors.

It does not take long for the group to cover the short distance to the hill as there are little obstacles along the way. Climbing up a sketchy trail toward the mausoleum, the party soon crests over a rise and gets a better view of the mausoleum ahead.

The mausoleum is a weathered marble structure supported by four grand columns, two on either side of a yawning threshold. It appears a heavy door used to seal the mausoleum, though all that remains of it now are a few broken slabs of marble scattered on the ground.

No light emanates from within the darkened mausoleum, though at distance the party sees what looks like movement inside the structure. Additionally, the group also detects what sounds like a tapping sound, wood on stone, coming from somwhere within the mausoleum.

OOC: The group is about 100 feet distant from the mausoleum

 Marklin made ready for the group to penetrate the odd structure. He slid his shield onto his arm, and hafted the spear in the other hand. “ Well Valthur, here we go again.” Said with a grin.

 "Who wants to carry a torch?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:44, Fri 17 Feb 2017.

"I can carry it," Eoni replied to Marklin's offer of a torch.  "Remember, we're here to talk, not fight.

"So try to look peaceful."  She pointedly looked at the shield strapped to his arm.

"And less ready for a fight.  Ologeon... wait, I'm getting them confused.  Sertieren said that the Savant doesn't see many people.  We need to make sure he knows we're here to trade for information.

"Aldara, do you have the Rhestilor tome ready?"

" I'll be as peaceable as he is." Said Marklin to Eoni.

"Yes." Taking the priestess' advice not to agitate this person, Aldara fishes the tome out of her bag.  Two sacks - one of which looks an awful lot like the one that once carried dead ferrets - are removed from both sides of the book lengthwise, followed by a large one.  The sacks are put back into her bag, and the tome is held as if ready to be presented.

Sarah seems calmer as the party enters the structure.

"So will I," Valthur concurs, lowering his new axe slightly, but still having it ready should there be trouble. "My new axe is more than ready, but it won't go looking for any unnecessary trouble."

The party follows the trail up the hill toward the mausoleum and soon discovers the source of the tapping noises heard previously. Just beyond the threshold leading into mausoleum they spot a man kneeling over a loose pile of parchment, papyrus and a few ratty tomes. The man appears quite disheveled in his soiled and tattered tunic and is either completely oblivious or indifferent to the party's presence just 10 feet distant.

The man mumbles incoherently to himself as he sifts through the assorted papers, seemingly looking for something within the text but not finding it.

Beyond the man in the antechamber the party can see into the mausoleum. The interior appears rather simple: a rectangular chamber with flagstone floor and ceiling, plastered walls, and minimal ornamentation. A flight of stone stairs descends away from the chamber's far wall.

Aldara is the first to speak to this, erm...well, hopefully he was a scholar like Sertieren said?  "Hello, there." The adventuring mage slowly steps forward.  "We were wondering if you could help us out?" The book is held a little closer, and her eyes go from it, to the strange man's hands, to his eyes.  "Favour for a favour?"

The kneeiling, disheveled man startles at the sound of Aldara's voice. He spins around on his haunches, an armful of loose sheets of parchment in his hands, with eyes set wide.

"Gah!" he calls out. "Heavens! You scared me!"

Now seeing the man fully for the first time, he appears to be anywhere from his 20's to late 30's, it being difficult to discern actual age due to his incredibly doughy baby face. Despite the baby face, he is a bear of a man, standing over six feet tall and quite stocky of build. He wears the clothing of a farmer or rancher.

He tilts his head sideways while considering Aldara's words and then his eyes rest on her book.

"You too have come seeking audience with the Insatiable Savant?" he asks dumbly, his mouth hangs open revealing a huge gap between his front teeth large enough to pass a sword through.

"At first I thought he was the savant," Valthur mutters to Marklin through clenched teeth. "But I'm glad he isn't. He doesn't look like he can even read."

He wonders for a moment what the unkempt youngster might want of the mysterious savant. What could this two copper farm hand want with the savant? I don't expect he has any mysterious runes that need to be translated. And where the savant, anyway?

The baby-faced man stares dumbly at the assembled group of adventurers, his expression more confused with each passing moment.

"Now I'm wondering the same," he responds to Aldara to break the silence.

OOC: The party has indicated they are confortable with Aldara handling negotiations with the man, but now she has gone comm silent.  :\

"So what are you here to ask the Savant about?" Eoni interjected, seeing Aldara at a loss for words.  "We have some papers we hope to have him translate."

This man didn't seem like the type to visit a scholar for advice.  Unless the Savant was also a barman as well, serving ale with advice on the side.  A dwarven Savant, perhaps.

In reply to Valthur Ironhelm (msg # 45):

 A smile came to the Warrior;s lips, in response to Valthur's comment. He whispered back." He looks more like a village idiot,then a Savant."

The man loosens his grip on the handful of loose parchment he had been cradling in his arms and they fall to the floor all around him. Looking up from the ground, he responds a bit shakily, "I came here looking for someone quite dear to me... but it went all wrong..." His tone is sad and dejected.

He further explains he already attempted to gain audience with the Savant, him and another companion. They followed a darkened passage and entered a chamber which no light could pierce and heard the Savant's voice. They pleaded with the Savant to help and the voice began to laugh hytserically. A moment later, the man claims to have heard his companion cry in alarm and the next moment he woke up on the ground, back here in the tomb's entrance, amidst the pile of parchment.

"Then you came..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:20, Thu 23 Feb 2017.

"My name is Eoni," she replied.  "I'm a Sister of Avandra and these are my companions."  She included the others with a wave of her hand.

"What do you think happened to your friend?  Is he still down there?"

She glanced at the others and hoped that the manner in which he'd described his meeting with the Savant was not lost on them.  Already it sounded as though the Savant was the capricious sort to toy with those that sought his wisdom.

"Hail, Eoni...and companions," the man responds. "I'm Ebermund of Brindol." Ebermund shrugs his shoulders while contemplating his companion's fate and says, "I have no earthly idea. I called for him several times but he didn't respond."


Ebermund goes on to explain he and his companion, Byron, traveled here all the way from the city of Brindol. They had heard rumors of the Savant and brought shards of information they hoped to trade in exchange for information on the whereabouts of a loved one. "It all went wrong though," he admits.

"Now, not only is Sharlayne gone...but so is Byron."

Eoni was beginning to understand the situation and hoping to help.  Perhaps they could recover Byron when they met with the Savant themselves.  She wasn't sure what she could do about his question.  About Sharlayne.

"Aldara, Charlotte," she asked of the others, "take a look at his papers to see what he had to trade.

"Ebermund," she continued, "Why were you looking for Sharlayne?  What makes you think you needed the Savant to find her?"

"Because she came here before us. We warned her not to, but she wouldn't be convinced. We had heard stories and knew the risks. But now she's gone. Myron too. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least try to find out what happened to them."

Ebermund goes on to say he and Byron belong to a troupe of performers, "The Good Baron Hobnobble’s Beguiling Court of Merryfellows and Gentlewomen," he adds in with a bit of theatrical flair. Sharlayne too is one of the performers.

Sharlayne had hoped to learn about her bloodline. Her stage name is the Demon Lady, though she is in fact, not a demon, Ebermund says.

"We'll see what we can do," she offered.  "We've never been here ourselves.  Where did you go down to find him and was there anything else you remembered about what happened?"

She was hoping that he might remember some clue, a sound or a smell, anything that could give them an edge in their negotiations.  She was not optimistic.

They did have the history of Rhestilor the sage had given them to exchange for translating the runes of the Old Ones, but this was not theirs to bargain with.  If the Savant would not release Ebermund's friends in addition to translating the runes, they would have to find something else to bargain with.  She feared that what he most desired were those never seen again.

They would not be trading another for the success of the mission.  Even Marklin was too high a price to pay if the Savant fancied the blundering armsman.

Valthur, only moments before mocking the large oaf in their company, finds himself now saddened by Ebermund's tale. As large as he is, he is still barely an adult, and his naïve search for his friends down such a treacherous path is tragic.

"Poor kid's scared half to death," he mutters to Marklin. "What kind of mage treats people like that?"

 The Warrior whispered to the Dwarf. "The kind that needs killing,Valthur. Odds are, this beggars friends are corpses."

Stunned that she almost gave something of value to somebody that she should not have offered something of value to, Aldara can only keep from gaping.  She draws the tome closer to herself, and appears very surprised, if not intrigued, when certain things are brought up about this visit.  In particular, the use of magic to deter trespassers, and the possible heritage of this "Demon Lady".

While gathering the loose leaves of stationery, she replies to Valthur, "One that has something to hide.  The right knowledge is as much a treasure as a stack of freshly-minted gold coins, and like a stack of freshly-minted gold coins, you'll want to keep others from getting them." She sounds very matter-of-fact about all of this.

"We went down these stairs here," Ebermund responds. "They go down some way and open into a large chamber. Very dark. Unnatural like. Lamp light didn't pierce it."

He further explains he didn't get a chance to explore very much. They stumbled around in the darkness for a bit before a voice addressed them. He also doesn't know where all the paper and parchment came from.

"When I woke up, I was buried beneath it," he says.

The text on the parchment is all quite old and written in an unknown script.

"Why don't you wait here and stack these papers," Eoni advised Ebermund.  "We know someone who might be able to read them back in Terrelton.

"We'll go down and speak with the Savant and see what we can do."

She turned back to the others and proposed their approach.  "If it's magically darkened beneath, a torch won't do us any good but we should have one anyway in case we find a way through.

"Valthur," she asked turning to the dwarf. "Do you think you can lead us in?  Marklin to watch behind us.

"How does that sound?"

She wasn't thrilled about the possibility of losing someone in this magical darkness but hoped that the dwarf's intuition would keep them from going astray.

With eyes wide open, Sarah looks to the west, then into the darkness ahead.

She does not look happy (which is normal); she actually looks a little scared.  She closes her distance to the nearest party member to half a step.

 Marklin looked at the dipping sun. " Right, let's be about matters then. Ye want me as rear guard, so be it,"

Valthur spins his axe in his hand nervously. "I'll be honest, I don't like what I'm hearing about this sage." He takes a deep breath, then exhales. "But we came here for his council, so let's get it over with."

Slowly the dwarf approaches the stairs and begins his descent.

Following in her place, Aldara takes her silver dagger out and puts it in her left hand, with one of her throwing ones going into her right, ready to be thrown.  She knew mages who set traps like this to be a little less reasonable than others.

Valthur leads the way down the darkened staircase. The darkness is most certainly supernatural, as it completely blots out all sight--including Valthur's infravision!

This conclusion only takes a few steps to ascertain and should the party members continue their descent they will effectively be walking blind down the stairs into the unknown. That is, unless they can figure out a way to counteract the magical darkness.

No sound is heard down below...

"Stay together," Eoni whispered.  "Valthur, hold onto my staff."  She reached forward with the end of her crooked staff to keep track of the dwarf.

"Sarah," hold onto my pack.  She hoped the girl was still behind her.  They didn't need to lose anyone in this unnatural darkness.

"Aldara?  Charlotte?  Marklin?" she whispered.  "Are you still behind us?"

Silently, Sarah takes the pack offered by Eoni.

 All Eoni heard in way of a reply was "Aye."

Valthur feels Eoni's staff tapping against his arm. He wraps his hand around it tightly. Darkness is an unusual sensation for the dwarf. He starts to understand why humans have such a distaste for it.

"I can't see a blasted thing," he snarls. "What sort of trickery is this?"

There is a slight kerfuffle as Sarah tries to literally "hold onto" Eoni's pack.  After a moment she gets the message and stops trying to take full possession.

Valthur shuffles forward while still grasping the end of Eoni's staff to be sure he doesn't lose the rest of the crew. After a few careful paces, he notices the staff stops following his lead. He tugs once or twice before hearing the muffled sounds of some sort of struggle taking place behind him. "What's going on back there?"

"I'm here," comes Aldara's reply.  She tries to step clear of the scuffle.  Then, something dawns on her!

"I have an idea... Since we can't see in this light at all, maybe magical light would work?  I should be able to create one, but it'll take me a little while to remember the specifics.  What say you?"

"I said hold onto it," Eoni whispered back to Sarah, "not pull it off my back."

She took a deep breath.  This darkness was making her antsy.

"Sorry Valthur," she said to the dwarf.  "We're all right.

"Aldara, I suspect that the Savant placed this permanent darkness here.  Are you sure you can overcome it?"

Eoni wasn't well versed in counter spells but it seemed that the strength of the two in contest would tip the scale one way or another.  She suspected the Savant was more than Aldara could overcome.  And if something bad were to happen to Ebermund's friends because they delayed, that would be horrible.

Normally one to charge in axe first, Valthur finds the darkness has instilled in him a shred of hesitation. Some might even say wisdom, although an honest assessment would more accurately identify it as good old fashioned fear of the dark.

"This darkness is unnatural and I don't like it one bit. We dwarves are born to see clearly in even the deepest, darkest tunnels underground. Yet here, I can't see a thing. If the lady mage has something that might clear it up, I say we try it."

Still holding Eoni's staff for guidance, Valthur shuffles back a step, trying to get the party's momentum shifted in the other direction. "Well, what say the rest of you?"

"For my part, I say I am confident I can dispel this darkness," confess Aldara's reply.

"Then let's go," Sarah whispers, tugging on Eoni's pack.

" Aye, less talking, more doing. I feel like we are in a bloody root cellar."

"All right then," Eoni whispered, "let's turn around and head back.

"Marklin, take the lead and get us back out."

There is much bumping and stepping on toes, but eventually, the party turns itself around and fumbles their way back up the magically darkened stairwell toward the entrance hall. Emerging into the light, this the dim light afforded by the last grasps of dusk, the group settles in to afford Aldara the required time to study from her magical tome.

Presumably, the party takes watch during this quiet time. Except it isn't entirely quiet. Somewhere, outside in the distance, the more keen eared adventurers occasionally hear what sounds like a beast, howling!

The Beast of Barren Hill out for a prowl perhaps? For the moment, the party can only wonder, because it sounds quite distant.

Aldara finishes up with her task and has now memorized a darkness spell.

She was in fact, quite justified in her confidence in her abilities, as she easily dispels the magical darkness!

The stairwell descends about 30 feet, eventually ending at a heavy stone door. The door is presently closed.

"It was that way when we first came to. Byron made quick work of it though," Ebermund says, referring to the lockpicking skills of his missing companion.

As the darkness is flushed, Aldara breathes a sigh of relief.  She didn't actually know if she'd be able to do it or not!  Not to mention, with the darkness out of the way, she and her companions would be able to high-tail it to safety if that was the beast they'd heard!

Sarah sidles her way to the front and pulls out some tools.  She works intently, but eventually gives up with a very disgusted look on her face.


22:12, Today: Sarah rolled 80 using 1d100 with rolls of 80.  Pick Locks (27).

Valthur gives Aldara an approving nod as she dispels the darkness surrounding the stairs. "Well done, Aldara. Your magic has proven a great help once again."

He descends the stairs to observe Sarah work on the lock of stone door below. He watches curiously until the young thief finally gives up, at which point he shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe the door's unlocked and we just don't know it. There's a chance Byron's earlier work was a permanent fix."

Sarah stares at the dwarf for a moment.  Slowly, she turns, and tries to open the door.

Valthur bites his lip, knowing if the door is still locked, he'll look somewhat idiotic. I'll just blame it on Byron, if that's the case. If he made such short work of the lock last time, it seems he could've left it unlocked.

Sarah is unable to pick the lock, which proves quite stubborn indeed! She jiggers her file this way and that, finally giving up on the task.

Moments later, at Valthur's behest, she pushes on the door and it budges inward!

The door sweeps open easily, despite its considerable weight. Even Valthur might be impressed with the craftsmanship that went into this mausoleum. Surely a dwarven architect was involved.

At any rate, the door swings open revealing a spacious crypt with ossuaries lining the right and left walls. The skeletal remains of perhaps a dozen or so humanoids are lined up along either wall with small shrines at the center of each.

An arched doorway stands opposite the stairwell and door the party is presently occupying. A curtain of mirrored silver beads sways gently with the change in pressure caused by the now open door, casting strange reflections of light on the assembled bones.

The crypt smells musty and dry. Save for the sound the adventurers' make, the crypt is quite silent.

OOC: The crypt is about 15 feet wide and 30 feet long.

"Hello?" Eoni called out tentatively.  They were, after all, walking into someone's home.  Belatedly, she reached over and knocked on the open door.

"We'd like to trade with the Savant.  We have a history of Rhestilor we think you'll like."

She paused a moment.

"The door was unlocked," she added helpfully.

Valthur tries his best not to gloat outwardly as the door opens. He is only somewhat successful, however, because a wide, satisfied smile creeps across his face.

Once the door has opened, the dwarf carefully enters the chamber, keeping a cautious eye on the skeletons lining either side. The reflections on their bones give him an uneasy feeling, but his curiosity proves too strong. He approaches the nearest one on the right for a closer look. I wonder who these bones once were. Certainly someone of importance to have their remains kept in a place like this.

A thin, frail voice calls out from somewhere beyond the silver, mirrored beads.

"Rhestilor. Never heard of her!"

A brief pause and then, "Tell me why I should care about her and be willing to trade for knowledge of her?"

"I am inclined to give warn you away at once, at risk of great peril to yourself...but do tell more...you have but the slightest of chances to yet escape this meeting, unscathed!"

Meanwhile, Valthur examines the bones and skulls neatly piled atop the ossuaries on either side of the crypt. Bits and fragments of cloth are mixed in with the bones, but most have been ravaged by moths and time and few are in anything resembling presentable shape. Still, they appear to be the clerical vestments these persons were entombed with. Studying the remains further, Valthur notices several gold and silver pendants adorning skeletal vertebrae and a great number of metacarpals graced with beautiful gem-studded rings.

"Rhestilor was a place, not a person," Eoni replied, thankful to be met with civil discourse rather than laughing or screaming.

"It rose and fell during the time you've been secluded here," she explained as best she could with what Sertieren had told them.  Perhaps she should have read some of it to be more familiar with what they were trading.

"Is this something you'd be interested in?"

Marklin caught what the Dwarf was looking at, and his eyes went wide. There were great riches to be had in the piles of bones. Gold, silver and gems of many types. The Warrior knew he could wench and drink his way to oblivion on such riches. But that thought, as nice as it was, had a cloud hanging over it. Marklin had noticed the remains of Priestly attire." Blood stained gods. We have a noble’s ransom right before our eyes, but it might as well be on the moon."

 His mood was now sour, but he looked around for any dangers, all the same.

When the Party's Priestess Most Perceptive informs the others of the door being open, all that Aldara can contribute to this goodly blow in the cosmic clash between Chaos and Law, is a sidelong glance.  On her eye's way back, she marvels at the curtain, thinks of a way to convince Sarah to cut them down.  Once again, she does not seem too concerred with any moral issues her fellows might have.

She snaps out of her trance, though, when she hears the sage and priestess make their exchange.  "Is knowledge, used wisely, not one of the most powerful of tools?  We come with a tool for you." She holds up the tome.

Sarah also looks at the jewels and gems.

Valthur, too, contemplates the wealth available at his, or more appropriately at the deceased's, fingertips. But even though he figures the riches will do the bones no favor anymore, the dwarf still has a sense of what is right and what is wrong. Ravaging the remains here crosses that line.

"Aye," he finally responds to Marklin with a sigh. "These gems are beautiful, but they are not ours."

With great effort, he turns from the bones and their valuable adornment.

"Usually for the best"

Charlotte had largely remained silent lately, still finding her footing with the group, but approved of the...  Lack of looting that was going on.

Oh, sure, she wasn't some fan of austerity and the like, but...

"Generally speaking, riches out in the open are that way for a reason, best to avoid them."

" Besides, robbing the dead never be wise. Some god might get offended by us looting here. Those be Priests remains,so I nay be touching the stuff."

"This does sound interesting. Yes. New lore of infant empires is an area of which my collection is sadly, lacking," the hollow voices echoes.

"What do you wish in return?"

"We have some charcoal rubbings that we hope you might be able to translate or explain," Eoni replied, happy that things seemed to be going well.  "We would also like the friends of this man to accompany us when we leave.  A man and a woman recently lost in your maze."

She avoided any mention of their possibly being held against their will.  Eoni was hoping not to antagonize the Savant with accusations of malicious mischief.

"We hope that you will be able to lead them back to us so that they won't disturb your important studies."

A brief silence following Eoni's response is finally shattered by the thin, frail voice presumed to belong to the titular Insatiable Savant.

"Well, which is it? Would you like to have charcoal rubbings translated or the company of uninvited trespassers with nothing to offer in exchange for their transgression?" the voice asks matter-of-factly.

Ebermund shoots a look at Eoni indicating his preference, but the youthful looking man is reluctant to make his voice heard.

Eoni had been afraid that they wouldn't be able to get both with just the history.  She avoided looking back at the others and tried to create a solution.

"Perhaps there is something you wish that we could retrieve for you to cover the difference?" she asked, trying to feign some confidence that it would be a good deal for him.  She did't want to make an outright confession of what was the more valuable of the two choices.

"Some missing information or treatise you'd like us to find?"

It had been a similar bargain that had gotten them here in the first place.  She hoped it would work again.

Sarah continues scrutinizing the gems and other gaudy objects.

From a distance.

"Nothing is missing from my archives!" the voice protests. "Everything is precisely where I left it. Catalogued and complete," the Savant says with self-satisfaction and an air of superiority.

"Now, if you are to suggest new object exists, of which I may find some bit of interest, then speak now of this thing so I can better judge its merit!"

Meanwhile, Sarah continues to ogle the jewels and jewelry. She estimates the lot of them to easily be worth 1000 gold, perhaps more! Hard to be certain really without properly examining each...

Valthur shifts his weight anxiously as the negotiations continue. Eoni seems to have things well in hand, he convinces himself, although he wonders what else they might have that would be of use to the savant. "We didn't plan on needing two things," he whispers to Marklin. "I wonder if he'd be interested in the head of the Beast of Barren Hill?"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:39, Wed 08 Mar 2017.

"I was hoping there was some task we could perform for you," Eoni confessed, reaching into her pocket, "but we do have these magic acorns for the two missing."

Eoni pulled the three glowing acorns from her pocket and held them out.  She wasn't sure where the Savant was, but assumed he would be able to see them.

"We collected these at a great price from the Witchwood near Drellin's Ferry.  A mad wood spirit and a tree once taller than any other, now split in twain.  These are the last of their kind.

"With so few of these left, perhaps just one for your collection would suffice."

She returned two to her pocket as if confident that the price was well worth the trade.

"I am not in the habit of taking on unskilled servants for menial chores," the Savant sneers snidely. "I dare not hazard a guess as to what you take me for," he says, barely able to contain his imperious tone.



"This! Now this is intriguing!" the Savant says, its tone much friendlier.

"Very well, I will trade you knowledge of your missing companion in exchange for the acorns," the voice says. "In exchange for the Tome of Rhestilorian History, I agree to translate the writing you have brought, assuming it is within my capability, and I trust it is..." the voice coos with a certain degree of smugness.

"Agreed?" it asks.

"Companions," Eoni clarified, emphasizing the plural.  "A man and a woman.  The man just recently and the woman much earlier.

"And this knowledge must be where we can find them, alive."  Again she emphasized that they must be alive.  Having him say that they're dead and that was the deal would not be acceptable.  He sounded llike the type that would quibble over the exact letter of the agreement.  She wanted to make sure they knew what they were getting.

"With those amendments, we have a deal."

Valthur listens intently as Eoni negotiates with the unseen savant. Yes, he and the cleric have been at odds from time to time in the past, but he can't help but admire the skill with which she presently discusses the terms.

He's thankful it's her negotiating the deal and not him...or Marklin.

"One is as good as the other, for all I am concerned. Find one, you find the others. This you will see, all in good time," the Savant says in a mischievous tone.

"Very well, agreed. Hold your offerings out for presentation...."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:05, Fri 10 Mar 2017.

 Marklin just shook his head,and looked bored at the whole exchange.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:36, Fri 10 Mar 2017.

Showing her distaste for what she felt was a callous tone, Aldara inwardly thanked a goddess she only periodically offered prayers to that one of her faithful was handling negotiations.

When the Savant requested the tome, she held it out.  Her expression was one that said she did not trust him.

Eoni turned and looked to the others to see if they agreed with the deal.  It seemed to her the best they could do.  She worried that some ill machination of the Savant's would still cause them to regret this bargain.

For her part, she held out the three glowing acorns.  She wished that she'd only revealed two of the three.  She was new to this haggling and would strive to do better the next time.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:24, Fri 10 Mar 2017.

Valthur gives Eoni an affirmative nod, then grips his axe a little tighter as if sensing the need to use it may be close at hand.

A whisper, directed at no one in particular:

"Why not just ask him to return the missing people?"

A few brief moments after Aldara and Eoni hold out their offerings, a spectral robed visage floats through the mirrored curtain. Garbed in flowy robes and cowl, the humanoid form glides effortlessly over the floor with no apparent locomotion by its nonexistent legs. A hawkish ghostly nose protrudes from the cowl, while two pricks of violet light denote where the creature's eyes might be. Otherwise, the face is devoid of features.

The ghostly figure draws close to Aldara and Eoni and reaches out to take possession of the tome and magic acorns.

"The text please," the apparition drones in a monotone voice that is decidedly different than the Savant.

"They're the loose pages in the book," Eoni explained, pointing at the tome it now held.  "We didn't want them to get damaged but they should still be in order."

She wondered how long it would take.  Hopefully, they'd be able to collect the other half of their bargain during the translation.

 The hairs on the back of the warrior's neck stood up, upon seeing the ghostly figure emerge to accept the items in trade. Part of Marklin wanted to hurl his spear at the thing, another part wanted to quiet this place.

Valthur's grip retightens on his axe. He wonders whether his new weapon would even make contact with the ghostly savant should it be needed. He silently hopes he won't have to find out.

The spectral figure floats forward and takes possession of the tome and the acrons. Gathering these things up, it turns and glides down the corridor toward the mirrored beads, passing through without causing a single bead to sway.

Several tense moments pass before the Insatiable Savant responds, "Leave behind, mortal possessions no more, embrace Mother Goddess, return to Earth, Stars, Moon, and Sky. Generations follow, your offspring etern..."

"Bah, Druidic mumbo jumbo," the voice scoffs. "Rather than read the rest of this utter tripe, I will have my servant trancribe the rest and you may read at your leisure."

"As to the other question," the Savant continues while obviously holding back laughter, "Seek out the Beast of Barren Hill. There you may find your, alive companions, but not for long. The  Beast grows hungrier with each passing breath!"

Moments later, the spectral servant returns with a roll of parchment in hand. It gives the roll to the nearest adventurer and retreats through the mirrored beads.

"Leave the way you came," the Savant calls out.

A squeal escapes Sarah's lips at these words.

It is not a squeal of excitement.

"By Moradin's great hammer," Valthur curses. "He's feeding them to the beast!"

 Marklin snorted,and gripped his spear more securely. He leaned over and whispered to Valthur. " Are they about done? I want to get out of this place, before we end up like that bugger that took the offering."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:20, Sun 12 Mar 2017.

Aldara groans at the prospect of having to face the Beast.

Eoni was not happy with the Savant's reply but there was nothing she could do about it.  Holding the translation in her hand, she gritted her teeth and turned back to the others.

"Let's go."

They'd accomplished their mission and stretched it to include Ebermund's friends but at what cost?  Now they must find and face off against this beast and hope they didn't add to that price in blood.

"A local problem I imagine?"  Charlotte asks.  "Unpleasant, but if it needs to be sorted out, then it's best to do it cleanly."

" We trek all the way here, offer up some good stuff, and that is what we get in return? Any hedge wizard  could have done just as well. Let's get out of here,bloody waste of time."

Marklin turned and started to head for the exit.

Anxious to dispatch of the beast before any of Eburmund's friends get eaten, Valthur heads toward the stairs. "Well, it looks like my axe will finally get some use. We could hear that beasty when we were upstairs. Hopefully it's still there when we get back."

"Local to the locals," Aldara clarifies to Charlotte.  She follows the warriors, first drawing the daggers in her boots, and then half-joking, "If anything should happen to me, my Will is in my spell book."

Sarah follows along too.

Quietly.

Taking their leave of the Insatiable Savant, the party exits the mausoleum with translated text in hand. It is dusk as the party exits, the surrounding countryside bathed in beautiful yet haunting violet hues. Somewhere out in the dark folds of the the rolling hills to the west, the Beast of Barren Hill lurks. If the Insatiable Savant is to be believed, within its lair, a couple of unfortunate lore seekers oin its midst.

If the tales and the Savant's words themself are to be believed, Ebermund's companions haven't very much time. Of course the Savant didn't exactly offer up a lot of information as to where Ebermund's companions might be within its lair, or in what state; but then again, nobody seemed particularly brave enough to push the issue.

While scanning the dark hills to the west, the party hears a savage howl in the distance.

Ebermund gulps hard and summons up the courage to speak, "You folk seem like an awful nice lot. Would you find it in your heart to help me find my friends?"

  Marklin was more than happy to get out of that place of death. He took in the fresh air in deep breathes, like he was starved for it. When he heard the distant roar, Marklin walked over and hopped up on a tree stump.

"Beast of Barren Hill! I be Marklin, and I am going to skin ye for th fur, and mount yer pug ugly head on a pole. Roar bout that, ya piss pot drinking son o' a whore!"

 Marklin stepped off the stump with looking rather pleased with himself.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:11, Mon 20 Mar 2017.

Eoni turned from observing Marklin's challenge and replied to Ebermund, "I think that answers your question."

The Sister of Avandra took a deep breath and looked around at the others, Ebermund now included.

"We'd better hurry."

Sarah's eyes grow wide at the howl, but otherwise she does not move.

When the party begins to move, she shuffles along somewhere in the middle.

"Aye", Garik agrees. "Best we find this beast before nightfall."

The dwarf scans across the western horizon for a possible source of the chilling howl he just heard. He looks for cave openings or other outcroppings that may somehow be used by the beast as a lair.

"Listen to him, Beast!" From her place near Marklin the Mighty, Aldara adds to his challenge, shouting, "Listen to Marklin the Mighty, who once climbed out of a pit of starved dogs every day before he was fed!  Marklin the Magnificent, Who seared a mage's flesh as his own armour was heated!  He will not be denied your death throes!  You will fall!"

That said, Aldara falls into place near the back of the group, clearly very satisfied with her performance.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:19, Tue 21 Mar 2017.

"So, do we have an actual plan in mind?"  Charlotte can't help but wonder as the challenge rings out, getting her staff ready and hoping to hell that she doesn't end up getting eaten by an angry an unknown monster.  "Or just one of those 'Everyone out for themselves moments'?"

"We generally let Valthur and Marklin take the lead," Eoni explained.  "Aldara throws knives and Sarah..."

The woman paused to look back at the girl to think what she had actually done during their previous conflicts.

"She does something," Eoni finally concluded with a generic wave of her hand.  "I'm just not sure what it is.

"And then I usually try and stop someone from kicking Marklin in the head.

"And I hold the torch," she added as an afterthought.  "Did you want to hold the torch?"

Sarah gives no indication that she heard her name mentioned.  She merely marches along, woodenly.

"Staff's a two handed weapon..."  Charlotte looks to her own weapon and shifts it ever so slightly.  "I'm sure I'll be able to make myself suitably useful though"

When Aldara hears that she just throws knives, she adjusts the strap that holds her spell book.

Valthur finds his chest puffing out with pride as he overhears Eoni's explanation to the new cleric. That's right, he thinks to himself. Brave Valthur and Marklin in the lead!
What courage those two must possess!
Indeed they are very courageous. Why one time Valthur charged into a ring of a ten zombies!
Oh my, what bravery. What happened?
Well, actually, he was nearly killed by them and the rest of us had to intervene...

Valthur snaps out of the imaginary conversation with a grunt.