The Temple of the Three Faces Part II

SESSION 5 PART II

PCs

Talos Redwand, 4th level Conjurer
Kieren, 4th level Druid
Shaw Ashcroft, 3rd level Ranger (Justifier)
Eswin, 4th level Elven Thief

NPCS

Knobby Greenburrow, Halfling Cartographer

FROM THE JOURNAL OF KNOBBY GREENBURROW, CARTOGRAPHER EXTRAORDINARE

Tenthmonth 24th, 606AT

Well, all thoughts of caution seem to have been thrown to the wind. Most folks tell me that I'm a bit too wreckless, but these adventurers I'm travelling with take Grandma's proverbial Apple Bundt Cake. We set off this morning back to the monastery. Thankfully, there were no interruptions along the way and we were ambushed by any of the foul creatures roaming the dense woods on the hill. When we re-entered the monastery grounds, we made our way directly into the monastery itself. After a bit of searching, we found ourselves in what looked to be an old dining hall. The tables and chairs were covered in thick webbing and a giant spider sat perched on this webbing at the far end of the hall, watching us with its beady eyes.

Eswin and Shaw began shooting at it with their bows; it all seemed a bit too easy. Suddenly, another spider dropped from above the doorway we have entered, and landed right on top of Wheezy. It's fangs easily found their way into the soft flesh on the wizard's shoulder, but thankfully our conjurer is a little more hardy than I first believed. The dreaded beast's poison did not find its way into his system and he yet lives. Wheezy and myself made quick work of this "ambusher". Yet another spider crawled up from underneath one of the tables and attacked us from the side, but being wise to their tricks, we made quick work of it as well. After scrounging around and finding a few gems of value, we made our way north, where we found a stairway leading down into the darkness below the monastery.

These under-chambers were less well worked than those above. The walls were rough stone, barely more than tunnels leading into the darkness. I had to bear the torch for the group, as our previous torch-bearer, Thurin (at least that's what I think his name was), met an untimely end earlier in our travels. Mother preserve me, I hope I don't share the same fate as that sad soul.

Making our way west first, we came across a prison chamber that held a lone human by the name of Cullen DeFinch. He agreed to act as our new torch-bearer; we gave him a shortsword to protect himself and we were on our way again. Next we came across a steam-filled room that housed a particularly nasty lizard whose insides were as hot as molten lava. Since the steam in the room was preventing us from firing our bows at the beast, Eswin and Shaw waded and met the brute in hand-to-claw combat. The lizard was terribly tough, but our brave heroes managed to fell it after a couple of minutes. Shaw found out the hard way how hot the beasts innards were, as when he struck the fatal blow, his shortsword melted in his hands.

We decided to head south next, and came across a few chambers depicting the mythology of the Three Sisters. In one vast chamber with painted walls and columns we met a curious little gray creature who called himself Puddle. He claimed to be from beyond the Veil, and said that he had come to Inolba to see what mischief he could get himself in. He claimed to know the layout of the under-chambers and warned us of the hairy devils living in the southeast. He also told us that somewhere in the complex there was a room that could show us the future, and then agreed to show us to another room that held magical equipment.

He first led us to the chamber of magical equipment, for we thought it prudent to load up on this sort of help before moving towards the devil-men who know doubt guard the scrolls of prophecy we are looking for. Most of the magic within the chamber had been looted, but four items remained behind. We should have know better than to greedily grab at the stuff; for any magic left behind by looters was no doubt left behind for a reason. Among the remaining items were a shiny jewel, a small bag, a short sword and deck of cards. Stabby grabbed the shortsword, for he had recently lost his to the lizard. Wheezy grabbed the bag and the jewel.

The Magic Deck

Eswin thought the deck of cards could be beneficial if we each drew from it - I guess we haven't learned from our drinking of the fountain yesterday. It was decided that Batty would draw first, then Stabby, then Sneaky the elf, and finally Wheezy. I decided that I would not draw from the deck. Each member decided that they would draw but twice from the ensorcelled deck. Batty drew first; immediately after drawing his first card, Cullen our newest ally, stabbed him in the back and fled down the hall into the darkness. Bleeding from his wound, Batty drew again. This time he was gifted with a magical scimitar and a treasure map.

Stabby drew next. After pulling his first card, all of his magical gear simply vanished. Undeterred, he drew again. This time he felt the knowledge of his forefathers pulsing through him and felt as though his abilities had increased. He was also granted a magic weapon.

Sneaky drew third. His first draw seemed to result in nothing. But he claimed that a voice in his head informed him that he would be bestowed the aid of warrior to protect him. Upon his second drawing, a billowy cloud of greyish smoke swirled about him and in deep voice pronounced that he would be able to avoid any situation he chose...once.

Finally Wheezy drew. Greedier than the others, he decided to draw thrice. His first draw bestowed upon him a magical staff and a treasure map. His second draw resulted in the same billowy grey smoke forming and the same voice proclaiming that he could avoid and situation he chose once. On his final draw nothing seemed to happen. But Wheezy claimed that he was beginning to forget things that he knew and that his intellect felt less sharp. Covetous of his keen sense of intellect, Wheezy immediately chose to avoid the situation and his second gift was used up - though his intelligence seemed to return to him.

After these tense moments of drawing from the magical deck and tempting our fate, we were exhausted, so we barred the door to rest. Batty is busy healing his bloody back, while I sit here scribbling in this journal. Once again, I find myself hoping that fate sees me through the rest of this ordeal.

The Temple of the Three Faces Part II

SESSION 5 Part i

PCs

Talos Redwand, 4th level Conjurer
Kieren, 4th level Druid
Shaw Ashcroft, 3rd level Ranger (Justifier)
Eswin, 4th level Elven Thief

NPCS

Knobby Greenburrow, Halfling Cartographer

FROM THE JOURNAL OF KNOBBY GREENBURROW, CARTOGRAPHER EXTRAORDINARE

Tenthmonth 23^rd 606AT

Today we experienced a bit of a setback of sorts in our efforts to find the scrolls of prophecy in the Monastery. If anything can be taken from this it is that we must be more cautious as we investigate the ruins; but something tells me this band of adventurers has a long way to go before they learn how to be more cautious.

The day started out well enough. We arose from our slumber at the old ladies’ hut to find an erstwhile member of the band had joined us. Eswin the elf had tracked our progress through the hills and made it safely to the old ladies’ hut.

The ladies gave us directions to the monastery, indicating that taking the path through the hills would be circuitous and long; we fashioned a bit of a work around, however. Before leaving their abode, we were offered a piece of advice and a promise of help from the kindly old women. The help they said would come in the form of information. If we managed to heal their cursed sister, they would tell us how it might be possible to defeat mad King Aldurnus and bring victory to Beltigost in the coming war. The advice was simple: a wise man knows when he is outmatched.

After a bit of breakfast, we said our goodbyes. Talos, Shaw, Eswin and myself hopped into their magical bag while Kieren magicked himself into a bat, picked up the bag and flew us most of the way to the monastery. When Kieren put us down we found ourselves on a pathway not far from the monastery. After a brief battle with some wandering goblins, we crossed through a clearing of withered grass and desolate trees. Another path leading off from the clearing got us up to the monastery.

And oh, what a breathtaking sight it was. The old monastery sat atop a hill, its walls covered in creeping vines and moss. The archway was fashioned crudely into the faces of three women. Behind the monastery, in the distance were the rocky Greycloak Mountains. High above in a bright blue autumn sky circled a pair of Griffons. Inside the walls of the compound, we found a small barracks (which was empty), a warm pool of brackish water, an overgrown garden, a tomb of some sort and the crumbling monastery itself. Hot steam issued forth from a crevasse in the middle of the compound – which I took to be evidence of the fire-breathing dragon which is rumoured to live below the hill.

We decided to tackle the small tomb first. The stone door was carved with a web-like pattern and an inscription that read: The Faithful Warriors of the Thread. Pushing the door open was easy. Inside we found ourselves faced with twelve closed doors and a statue of a proud warrior with an emerald secured to his chest. Seeing before us an easy score, we sent the elf Eswin to pry the emerald off the chest of the statue. No sooner had he put his blade to the gem however, the twelve doors creaked open and we found ourselves surrounded by twelve moldering skeletons in rusted plate mail brandishing swords. Caught unawares, they struck several telling blows against our number, but in the end our superior abilities proved the difference and we made quick work of them. We packed up their longswords along with a magical dagger we found in the tomb and secured them away in one of our magic bags.

After clearing the tomb area, we headed to the monastery itself. We passed through several rooms containing statues of the goddesses and paintings depicting stories from their mythology. We also came across a pair of drunken ogres who we managed to kill. The ogres were keeping several primitive looking men captive, so we rescued these hapless creatures and set them free.

After rooting through most of the monastery, we made our way to a garden out back. It was filled with blackened and sickly trees, several statues of warriors and a crystal clear fountain. Having heard that a fountain in the monastery could grant a wish, every one was eager to test the waters of the fountain. Most of us found its waters to bestow curses upon us making is slightly less sharp-witted or physically weaker. Only Talos felt the waters course through his veins making him slightly stronger. A moment after the last of us had imbibed the fountain’s waters we heard a cackling in the garden. That is where our luck ran out.

Investigating further, we found a hideous looking woman crouched in the far corner of the garden behind one of the trees. She was wearing a tattered and soiled wedding gown, had a pair of grey wings sprouting from her back and her face was covered up so that we could not see her eyes. She was playing in what looked to be powdered stone and speaking gibberish. When we approached she turned to us and rose up to her full height of over seven feet. Correctly guessing that this was the cursed sister, we desperately tried to cure her. Having heard that she could only be healed by the purest waters of Danu, Stabby the ranger threw his waterskin at her and doused her in water. As Batty the druid informed us, this would have no effect. We would have to gather waters from the Unicorn Run, a fabled river in the Greycloaks thought to be the source of all life. Stabby’s actions however, had upset the old crone. In a horrifying display, she unfolded her wings, revealing ten eyes embedded within. Stabby and Batty looked on mesmerized and were instantly turned to stone. Cackling at the whims of fate, the old crone turned around to resume her work with the powdered stone.

Eurayle the Cursed Sister

Terrified of being turned to stone like our companions, the elf, Wheezy and I stuffed our new “statued” companions into our magical sack and left the monastery in all haste, hoping the old ladies at the cottage could help us bring them back to life. Without Batty to fly us back, we had to take the long way around. Along the way we were assaulted twice by some large insects, but managed to put them down easily with our slings and arrows. When we arrived back at the cottage, much to our relief, the old ladies agreed to turn our companions back to flesh. We were however, forced to give them our newly won magical dagger in exchange.

We are now preparing to make our second foray into the monastery tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll show a little more restraint and realize when we are outmatched. Of course I have no intention of going back to that cursed garden until we travel to this fabled Unicorn Run. Hopefully my luck holds out and I survive this adventure.

A Brief Interlude II: Fate of the Three Maidens

As Told by Father Johann of Oak Hill Cemetary

Long ago, when the Althane first arrived on the green shores of Inolba, life was hard and their very existence was in doubt. To ensure the survival of their chosen people, the gods of the Althane descended from their celestial palaces to walk among mortal men. Many and varied were their adventures and deeds, but this tale concerns only Althar the Protector, All-father of the Althane people, and the Three-faced goddess known as Fate.

It is commonly believed that Althar is a covetous god, always seeking to consolidate power. Many believe that this is why his chosen people are prone to war and conquest. When Althar heard that the Three-faced goddess was also living among the mortals, he visited her so that he might benefit from her vast knowledge of the future.

It came to pass that Althar appeared on the steps of the Three-faced goddess' temple, demanding to know the hour of his own demise, so that he might prevent it. For it is well known that in the end of all things, the gods themselves will die as surely as every mortal must.

In exchange for their mighty knowledge, the three sisters of Fate required a sacrificial gift, as they did from all those who sought their knowledge. Prideful Althar refused to pay the price, thinking that he was above paying the tribute that all others must. And so Althar was denied the knowledge of his own end.

The All-father's wrath was legendary. If he were to be denied the knowledge he sought, then so would all. With his mighty magic, he stripped the daugthers of Troentad of their prophetic knowledge and destroyed their essence.

Thus it was that prophecy in the land of Inolba was lost.

The Daughters of Troentad

A Brief Interlude I: The Origin of Fate

As Told by Father Johann of Oak Hill Cemetary

Troentad, the Father of Time was shunned by all the other gods because each knew that he held the knowledge of their ends in his great withered frame. They feared his presence in their extravagant halls for they worried that upon his calling their own times were at and end. Thus Troentad found himself alone for many an age, growing ever more sullen at his plight.

It came to pass that Danu the Earthmother, cradle of all life, took pity on the lonesome Troentad. She, of all the gods, giver of life, was not afraid of death. She came to Troentad in his cold and musty demesne and laid down with him to ease his loneliness. Thus Danu begat three goddesses from this union - the Three Maidens of Fate - who had in their power the knowledge of prophecy and the knowledge of the lives of all creatures, from their births up unto their ultimate ends.

And from that moment, Troentad was no longer alone.

Danu comforts Troentad

The Temple of the Three Faces Part I

Session 4

PCs

Talos Redwand, 4th level Conjurer

Kieren, 4th level Druid

Tysis, 3rd level Ranger (Justifier)

NPCs

Knobby Greenburrow, Halfling Cartographer

Thurin, man-at-arms

From the Journal of Knobby Greenburrow, Cartographer Extraordinare

Tenthmonth 20^th, 606AT

Bored today, looking for something to do. My pal Fudwick has gone south to Glynfloss to try their famous crabcakes and I’m all alone. Surrounded by farmers and that annoying priest whose name escapes me a the moment.

Four travelers came into the tavern today. I recognized them immediately. Three of them had been here several months before and were responsible for lifting the curse of the eternal winter from this village. Fudwick told me all about them. The fourth seemed to be a new companion – a ranger by the look of it – who had recently joined their band. They were asking questions about the monastery on Gwynned Hill. Apparently there are some magical scrolls in the monastery that they desire. I offered my services as a cartographer and geographical wiz, and they readily accepted me into their band. I can’t help but think things will be less boring for the next little while.

We visited the old priest Father Johann on Oak Hill and he gave us some valuable information about the goddess who the monks in the monastery used to worship. Some kind of goddess of fate by the sound of it. That old bat is a good story teller, even if his tea is a little bitter.

Tenthmonth 21^st, 606AT.

We made landing on the west side of the Vassvult River this morning. A kindly fisherman rowed us over and has agreed to pick us up again when our task is complete. We started our journey in a little clearing with a beautiful waterfall. A trail wound its way into the giant forest which covered the hill.

The going was rough; the trail was narrow and winding, and the hill rather steep. We had to stop several times just for the companions to rest. The wizard, Talos, who I took to calling Wheezy , seemed particularly ill-suited for such an arduous trip and was slowing us down. We were accosted by several ugly brutes with orange skin wielding swords as we rested, but made quick work of them.

After several hours of travel, we came upon a cave complex. I was particularly excited to see what lay within, but it turned out to be a small complex – home to some giant bats – which we easily bested. There was no treasure within the cave, which was a bit of a shame.

As the day wore on, we passed through a couple of clearings. In one we found some bushes with giant berries, which the ranger, who I took to calling Stabby, ate with gusto. Apparently the berries were magical and they served to ease some of our suffering. In another clearing we came across another band of the orange brutes, living in dirty tents and huts. They rushed at us en masse, obviously upset that we entered their territory. Wheezy used his magicks to entangle them in a web however, and they proved to be little more than a nuisance. Stabby took a shiny magical sword from their leader.

Hungry Ghoul

As night descended upon us, we were forced to rest yet again. Unfortunately, a couple of gray monsters with sharp teeth, long claws and pointy tongues surrounded us as we did so. The druid, who I took to calling Batty on account of the fact that his cloak magically transformed him into a bat, informed everyone that these monsters were undead creatures known as ghouls. The battle went sour quickly. Stabby and Shaky (our wide-eyed man-at-arms) were paralyzed within the first moments. Things did not look good for us. But Batty managed to call upon the forest itself to rise up and entangle the monsters and to drag Stabby into the cover of the trees while Wheezy and I helped drag Shaky along too.

Lucky for us we were close to a small clearing. When we entered, we saw a sweet old lady watering some flowers in front of her cottage. The ghouls did not pursue us into the clearing. Having heard a rumour at the tavern that a witch lived on the hill, we were naturally wary of the old woman. She called into the cottage and her younger sister emerged to greet us. They invited us in for tea. We were hesitant, but did not relish the thought of confronting the ghouls again, so we accepted.

The inside of their cottage was immense. Gold and silver trinkets lined the shelves and walls, but none of us dared touched any of them for fear the old ladies would turn us into toads and eat us. They explained to us that they were waiting for their eldest sister who had been tragically cursed. They told us she was dwelling in a place of black trees and stone and that only the purest waters of Danu could heal her of her sickness.

After healing our wounds the old ladies shuffled off into the deeper part of the cottage and we got a much needed rest.

Tenthmonth 22^nd, 606 AT

The old ladies struck us a bargain. They said we were welcome to rest and heal in their cottage whenever we wanted so long as we brought them the head of a nasty ogre chief who lived in the area. They also agreed to heal us of any wounds we suffered so long as they got to pick a magical treasure from the hoard we are no doubt likely to collect when we enter the monastery. We agreed on the stipulation that they only got the second pick of treasure.

After packing our bags and sharpening our weapons, we headed to the ogre’s home which the old ladies directed us towards. I tried picking the lock on the door several times, to no avail; so Stabby simply kicked it in. We found a couple of teenaged ogres beating each other about the head in the first room.

The battle was joined and several blows were traded. Unfortunately, Shaky was hammered into a pulp by one of the ogres and tossed across the room, where he lay dead. RIP Shaky.

Further on into the ogre’s lair we found the chieftan and his mate. They put up a terrible fight. Wheezy hit them with some blinding magic making it harder for them to hit us, but they still manage several vicious blows against our party. With skill and courage however, we prevailed. We found a chest with a bunch of gold and gems, cut off the ogre chieftan’s head and returned to the old ladies’ cottage to prove our deed done. They seemed pleased with our success.

Tomorrow we head off to the monastery which will no doubt test our abilities even more. I must say I’m looking forward to the adventure – it’s been far too long since I’ve had such fun.