Episode #7: Smoke and Monsters

Diary of Gregorius Half-Orc the Cenobite

Conclusion of the First Day on the Isle

Having eaten, we took shelter in the cave, hoping to rest before travelling any farther. The tribesmen seemed reliable, but we decided someone should keep watch just the same. I had not so much as sat down when I was roused by a commotion from outside the tunnel entrance.

Outside, the shaman was pointing and directing the tribesmen about. They for their part passed back and forth, in and out of the jungle. Two brought to the mouth of the cave long staves and a stretched skin, and set about erecting a tent before us. Others brought firewood and pungent aromatic herbs. As I watched from the tunnel, the old shaman prepared a low fire within the tent, and laid thereon the herbs, in accord with some esoteric rite known only to him.

The shaman gestured for us to come out and join him. With some suspicion, my companions and I did as he asked. We sat around the smoldering herbs; a fragrant plume wound its way through the air and rose out of the tent. From among his ritual accouterments he produced a long, carved smoking pipe. He tamped down a pinch of some nameless herbs, lit the pipe, took a draught of the smoke, and offered the pipe to us. Ecaris, Edrathior, and I partook. Ever suspicious Grüff did not, nor did Elody and Penitence. As we watched, the smoke thickened and formed shapes before us.

The shaman spoke, and I understood his meaning as plain as day. Though the words themselves remained foreign, I understood what he was attempting to communicate. Judging by their faces, those who had not shared the piped did not.

The shaman told us how one month ago, the people had noticed a disturbance among the beasts of the isle. 

1 month ago: "Animals began to act strange. Upset. Angry." The smoke formed animal shapes. Monkeys, birds, snakes, capybaras. Even some of the behemoths.

3 weeks ago: "The people from from Tanaroa came to inquire. They were seeing the same disturbances. New beasts began to appear. Brightly-colored reptiles, most smaller than behemoths but more vicious. Demons? Sharks congregated around the beaches in larger numbers than usual." The smoke depicted spiny, fanged monstrosities.

2 weeks ago: "Tanaroa went silent. Messengers were sent out. They did not return." The smoke shows men and women walking outward, then fading away.

Three weeks ago, foreign invaders had arrived, accompanied by a tribe of cannibals from “beyond the wall.” The old man called them “traitors to the Olman.” The "Olman" seem to be the name the tribesmen give themselves. The foreigners and their servants destroyed Mora, killing many of its people. Those they did not kill they enslaved. The shaman said these villains led the people away, probably toward Tanaroa.

3 days ago: “Then they came. Enemies. Foreigners to the Isle. Like you, but not like you. They came from the north, from the direction of Tanaroa. Cruel men and women wearing strange garments and with savage beasts as pets. They acted like spirit shamans but they served spirits from beyond death, not animal spirits of the world. They came with cannibals from beyond the Wall, traitors to the Olman. They destroyed Mora and demanded surrender from our people. Those who raised weapons were struck down—including the Chieftain. The weak were shackled and taken away, presumably to Tanaroa.” The smoke showed violence. Monsters and men took shape and struck villagers down.

The shaman said these invaders were led by two twins, that these twins conducted some vile ritual atop the ziggurat in the center of Mora. What this ritual had been exactly, he seemed not to know. But it "changed the sky."

“The invaders were led by two leaders. Twins who argued and even fought. But together they enacted a terrible ritual upon the ziggurat. It summoned the storms and changed the sky. Then they left. Now the jungle is patrolled by the invaders.”

The shapes in the fog dispersed, and we were back in the tent of the shaman. We asked him if he knew any more. He did not, but knew of an oracle not far to the west. He said this oracle might have information for us. I explained to my companions what he had said. We will speak to this oracle, but first we must rest.

“There is one who can say more. A place where a Truth Seeker ["oracle"?] resides. In an temple erected by the gods. A place the Olman visit but never stay, where only brave warriors are permitted to pass if they can survive. The temple can be found by following the 'tall road’ from the sea. It is not far, a half day’s journey.

*          *          *

Edrathior may be many things, but let it never be said a liar is one of them. It began while we rested in the cavern. We felt something amiss, and gazed at the shaft down which we had earlier climbed. The rope hanging there swung gently, though no wind nor draft blew to disturb it. I said then, “Pull it up and let whatever’s down there stay down there.” My companions must have thought I jested, for we soon descended to investigate. 

We confirmed something was very much amiss. Across the chasm, into the chamber rolled the same gray mist we had seen issuing from the top of the ziggurat earlier today. The imp-thing that had bitten Ecaris mere hours ago scampered out of the mist, and against our better judgment we advanced.

We drove the imp off easily enough; it fled as soon as we engaged. We pursued, needing to know what deviltry was afoot but apprehensive that we might find out. The mist dispersed as we stepped into the tomb. There, to nobody’s surprise, stood the three cadavers. Attacking as cadavers generally do not.

We fought, the dwarf and the knight striking at Ecaris and me with withered fists. The elf was the worst; her entrails crawled forth from her body, grasping and coiling. They were stronger than they looked, but not as strong as I. I broke free and ducked between the three corpses. I struck the dwarf in the back of the head and he, or it, crumbled to the floor. The elf moved to grapple Ecaris, and that was when things got strange. Edrathior at the far end of the room called up another bolt of magic, wound up, swung, and whiffed. Thunder filled the room. All of us, living and dead alike, were hurled through the air and to the floor. After we regained our feet, the melee resumed with gusto. We overcame the undead without undue hardship.

Once we were safe, we searched the area for signs of further danger. I peered out the window, suspecting the enemy had approached by sea. As far as I could tell they had not. While we are on this isle, we’d do well to cremate any more cadavers we find. I will discuss this matter with my companions. I will also speak to Elody of this matter; perhaps she can intercede with whatever god reigns here, and influence them to leave us unmolested by the living dead. Or perhaps Penitence is the one with further knowledge of the dead that do not rest.

It was then that discovered the imp-thing again, attempting to escape on the other side of the chasm. But before we could stop it, a small net was thrown over it by something else as small as it. Whatever cast the net fled back up the rope, leaving the gray imp bound before us.