Diary of Gregorius Half-Orc the Cenobite
Third Day on the Isle
It was then our captive escaped. While I watched Edrathior incinerate the remains of the troll, the bundle under my arm writhed and then burst asunder. A mass of centipedes streamed out to the cave floor. The little beasts scattering, I stamped on as many as I could catch and shouted for my companions to help. Edrathior and I did what we could, sweeping them from the floor, digging for them in the cracks at the walls. I cannot be sure we got them all. It is likely the imp has returned to his master.
Bartholomew had retrieved the jeweled skull from the troll’s altar. He showed it to Edrathior, who said there was some source of magic inside the skull, but he knew not what. The two began arguing about how best to break the thing open. I told them to ask Penitence or Elody what they thought, for they might know what the thing was.
Elody and Penitence could make nothing of it. Bartholomew pried the garnets from their sockets; Edrathior worked his dagger into the occipital suture and split the skull open. Inside was what looked like a sapphire, almost brain-sized. I saw the stone was hollow, filled with fluid. None of us knew what to make of this or what to do with it, and the stone vanished into Bartholomew’s new pack.
Penitence and Gruff had finished vomiting up bits of Razamere. The phanaton held aloft a coin and Elody approached him. He seemed to trust her, and handed over the coin. She told us it was a Coin of Good Luck, a relic of Avandra. Flipped in the air, it would bring good luck for one crucial moment and then vanish. So she said. The little creature gestured about, clearly trying to tell us something. It was clear that he wished us to follow him. We followed him eastward into the jungle. At some point he stopped and passed some trinkets to Edrathior and Gruff, though I could not see what.
Eventually we came to a clearing in the jungle. Thereinstood a tree. Our guide seemed to have a burrow down among the roots. He vanished into the hole for a minute, and reemerged bearing gifts.
He gave two of the Coins of Good Luck to Bartholomew and Elody.
To Edrathior he gave a ring, which resembled almost exactly the ring he had acquired two nights before in the sea cave tomb—worn by the corpse of an elf. Its twin?
He gave Penitence a vial of some black oil.
To Ecaris another coin; he tells me it is of Thyatian mint, likely non-magical, though quite old.
The phanaton pressed a ki focus, heavy stones strung upon leather thongs, into my hand. Who had given him this and why he gave it to me I do not know. I must meditate upon this later.
Having given us these gifts, he scampered up the tree and tossed down to each of us a bright green fruit like a mango. The flesh was bitter, but inside was a seed about the size of a pool ball. I cracked the seed open; the milk inside was sweet and satisfied all thirst and hunger. Penitence and Gruff said that the fleshy part dispelled the nausea they’d felt since trying to eat Razamere, though it sickened them first and made them purge their stomachs.
While we were eating, our guide sprang to attention and ran back up the tree. Bartholomew followed to see what had spooked the phanaton. He told us that to the northeast stood a pinnacle. A group of humans armed and armored stood atop the pinnacle, tending to, or harassing, one of the winged behemoths of the isle in some manner. We knew not what to make of this, but our new companion seemed eager to head northeast.
He squawked, and mimed jabbing himself with some type of lance or prod. Perhaps these men were behind the poisoned behemoth we had encountered earlier. Some of us thought the pinnacle might be worth investigating; others thought we should headstraight north toward the wall, beyond which lay Thanaclan and the Deluvian Hourglass. Before we could vote, Ecaris set off northeast. Elody, Penitence, Edrathior, and the phanaton followed after him. Gruff, Bartholomew, and I looked at each other. We decided we had best hasten to the pinnacle before our companions did something stupid.
We approached from the west, climbed up the rise, and watched from the edge of the trees. Atop the hill stood a watchtower of some sort, about forty feet tall and forty across. From atop the tower issued the sounds of occult ceremony and the smell of blood. One unguarded stairway led to the top. Soon enough, we heard our noisy companions approach. Gruff and Bartholomew stood speechless and motionless. As our companions approached the stairwell, I slipped out to join them. Bartholomew and Gruff had spoken not a word of strategy on our way here, and I hoped that Ecaria and company had used their time to come up with some sort of a plan. Alas, they had not.
We marched single file up the stairway. At the top stood a lone guard, his back turned to us. He was not adorned like the cultists, nor the native Olman tribesmen. These men looked more like slavers from the mainland, the sort of scum some of us have faced before. Tattooed, leather-clad, vicious. But not men I fear.
Penitence stepped forward and said, “I heard you’re looking for a daughter of death.” Clearly they were not, for the guard wheeled about and after a moment of shock, sounded the alarm. One of his companions charged me, wielding a slaver’s scourge in the way of one unused to and unnerved by resistance. I palmed his face and threw him back at his friends. Their leader, who had been performing some ritual upon one of the winged behemoths, abandoned this and took up arms. At some point, Gruff and Bartholomew climbed up the far wall and joined us. The raiders’ behemoth took off, circling and diving at us. The last I saw of it, our guide clung to its back, stabbing with his tiny spear as the beast winged off to the north.
With his men having fallen and his pet having abandoned him, the leader made to escape over the edge of the tower. Ecaris and I ran to the bottom of the tower to intercept. Before he could lay hands upon him, before he could touch the ground, a ribbon of lightning streamed from atop the tower. Coursing through the man and pulling him back up. Clearly this was Edrathior's work. The lightning vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The man fell to the ground, bounced once, and lay still. From the top of the tower, we can see the great wall to the north and Tanaroa to the east, occupied by the slavers. I don’t know how long we have before those we’ve defeated are missed. Soon though, we must choose our course.
It was then our captive escaped. While I watched Edrathior incinerate the remains of the troll, the bundle under my arm writhed and then burst asunder. A mass of centipedes streamed out to the cave floor. The little beasts scattering, I stamped on as many as I could catch and shouted for my companions to help. Edrathior and I did what we could, sweeping them from the floor, digging for them in the cracks at the walls. I cannot be sure we got them all. It is likely the imp has returned to his master.
Bartholomew had retrieved the jeweled skull from the troll’s altar. He showed it to Edrathior, who said there was some source of magic inside the skull, but he knew not what. The two began arguing about how best to break the thing open. I told them to ask Penitence or Elody what they thought, for they might know what the thing was.
Elody and Penitence could make nothing of it. Bartholomew pried the garnets from their sockets; Edrathior worked his dagger into the occipital suture and split the skull open. Inside was what looked like a sapphire, almost brain-sized. I saw the stone was hollow, filled with fluid. None of us knew what to make of this or what to do with it, and the stone vanished into Bartholomew’s new pack.
Penitence and Gruff had finished vomiting up bits of Razamere. The phanaton held aloft a coin and Elody approached him. He seemed to trust her, and handed over the coin. She told us it was a Coin of Good Luck, a relic of Avandra. Flipped in the air, it would bring good luck for one crucial moment and then vanish. So she said. The little creature gestured about, clearly trying to tell us something. It was clear that he wished us to follow him. We followed him eastward into the jungle. At some point he stopped and passed some trinkets to Edrathior and Gruff, though I could not see what.
Eventually we came to a clearing in the jungle. Thereinstood a tree. Our guide seemed to have a burrow down among the roots. He vanished into the hole for a minute, and reemerged bearing gifts.
He gave two of the Coins of Good Luck to Bartholomew and Elody.
To Edrathior he gave a ring, which resembled almost exactly the ring he had acquired two nights before in the sea cave tomb—worn by the corpse of an elf. Its twin?
He gave Penitence a vial of some black oil.
To Ecaris another coin; he tells me it is of Thyatian mint, likely non-magical, though quite old.
The phanaton pressed a ki focus, heavy stones strung upon leather thongs, into my hand. Who had given him this and why he gave it to me I do not know. I must meditate upon this later.Having given us these gifts, he scampered up the tree and tossed down to each of us a bright green fruit like a mango. The flesh was bitter, but inside was a seed about the size of a pool ball. I cracked the seed open; the milk inside was sweet and satisfied all thirst and hunger. Penitence and Gruff said that the fleshy part dispelled the nausea they’d felt since trying to eat Razamere, though it sickened them first and made them purge their stomachs.
While we were eating, our guide sprang to attention and ran back up the tree. Bartholomew followed to see what had spooked the phanaton. He told us that to the northeast stood a pinnacle. A group of humans armed and armored stood atop the pinnacle, tending to, or harassing, one of the winged behemoths of the isle in some manner. We knew not what to make of this, but our new companion seemed eager to head northeast.
He squawked, and mimed jabbing himself with some type of lance or prod. Perhaps these men were behind the poisoned behemoth we had encountered earlier. Some of us thought the pinnacle might be worth investigating; others thought we should headstraight north toward the wall, beyond which lay Thanaclan and the Deluvian Hourglass. Before we could vote, Ecaris set off northeast. Elody, Penitence, Edrathior, and the phanaton followed after him. Gruff, Bartholomew, and I looked at each other. We decided we had best hasten to the pinnacle before our companions did something stupid.We approached from the west, climbed up the rise, and watched from the edge of the trees. Atop the hill stood a watchtower of some sort, about forty feet tall and forty across. From atop the tower issued the sounds of occult ceremony and the smell of blood. One unguarded stairway led to the top. Soon enough, we heard our noisy companions approach. Gruff and Bartholomew stood speechless and motionless. As our companions approached the stairwell, I slipped out to join them. Bartholomew and Gruff had spoken not a word of strategy on our way here, and I hoped that Ecaria and company had used their time to come up with some sort of a plan. Alas, they had not.
We marched single file up the stairway. At the top stood a lone guard, his back turned to us. He was not adorned like the cultists, nor the native Olman tribesmen. These men looked more like slavers from the mainland, the sort of scum some of us have faced before. Tattooed, leather-clad, vicious. But not men I fear.
Penitence stepped forward and said, “I heard you’re looking for a daughter of death.” Clearly they were not, for the guard wheeled about and after a moment of shock, sounded the alarm. One of his companions charged me, wielding a slaver’s scourge in the way of one unused to and unnerved by resistance. I palmed his face and threw him back at his friends. Their leader, who had been performing some ritual upon one of the winged behemoths, abandoned this and took up arms. At some point, Gruff and Bartholomew climbed up the far wall and joined us. The raiders’ behemoth took off, circling and diving at us. The last I saw of it, our guide clung to its back, stabbing with his tiny spear as the beast winged off to the north.With his men having fallen and his pet having abandoned him, the leader made to escape over the edge of the tower. Ecaris and I ran to the bottom of the tower to intercept. Before he could lay hands upon him, before he could touch the ground, a ribbon of lightning streamed from atop the tower. Coursing through the man and pulling him back up. Clearly this was Edrathior's work. The lightning vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The man fell to the ground, bounced once, and lay still. From the top of the tower, we can see the great wall to the north and Tanaroa to the east, occupied by the slavers. I don’t know how long we have before those we’ve defeated are missed. Soon though, we must choose our course.
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