Campaign: Dominion of Adventure 9/3/2023

Feeling a little worse for wear after enjoying the Halfling’s hospitality the Renegades set off for Yocan along with two carts laden with mushroom wine and other produce Grand traded with the larger settlement. Somehow the hours they’d spent within the Nearith Outpost had translated to over three weeks of elapsed time everywhere else, a confusing and troubling development that none of the party wanted to dwell on. Depsite the halfling traders happy mood most of the party rested in the carts or plodded alongside them in silence. Pushing deeper into the woods they began to feel a familiar sense of oppressive dread eminating from the ancient woodlands.

“Hey Luther, why you so quiet this morning?” asked Nick, breaking the silence with his strange take on the language

Luther just looked at him without a word and hopped off the cart to walk behind, then seeing Navarro slumped on Rocinate’s back hesitated and settled on an awkward middle ground trudging along between the last cart and the hungover Paladin.

Turning to Greg in confusion Nick saw the druid staring wide eyed into the trees

“Greg, why are you looking so scared, is just trees – you like trees yes?”

“There’s something very wrong here, can you not feel that?” asked the druid, clearly agitated and concerned

“I feel fine, is nice day – we have full bellies, no one trying to kill us and we not even needing to walk – why everyone so sad and miserable?” the human fighter clearly uneffeted by the malaise infecting his companions.

“It was like this before, back when we came through here months ago” muttered Gunnar from his perch slumped in the bed of the cart trying to get some sleep, also seemingly uneffected by whatever had spooked Luther and Greg but more sympathetic to the other’s concerns “I thought after we’d killed the Stag Lord things might be different…” he trailed off with a shrug, unable to offer any more information or reassurance to the others.

“What’s wrong with all of you” muttered Nick, dissappointed and bored with no one seemingly interested in talking further. The rest of the morning continued in much the same vein, with everyone generally keeping their own council until the Halflings bought the carts to a halt for lunch.

After an awkward lunch perched on the roadway, even the normally upbeat Halflings seemed to be picking up on the group’s mood and diplomatically left the party to their own devices rather than try and engage with them. As they set off again Gunnar hopped off the cart and slipped into the undergrowth at the side of the trail, moving with surprising grace for someone so large and vanishing into the thick undergrowth swiftly. Dorian was idly trying to follow the barbarian’s progress when he realised Nick was scrabbling through his pack and cursing softly

“Are you ok there?” asked Dorian

“No, not ok – I need incest for spell, you priest – you have some?”

“Errr, I’m not that kind of Dwarf” answered Dorian hesitantly

“What? You priest, need it for ceremony no?” persisted the warrior

“Do you mean incense?” asked Dorian, light beginning to dawn

“Yes, smells funny, helps me make magic owl to scout the wood, incest is how you Dwarves pronounce it no?”

“Ahh, then yes I think I can help you with that then” replied a relieved Dorian, passing the man some incense from their pack. Nick took the offering and huddled in the corner of the cart muttering incantations until a small owl materialised on his outstretched arm. Launching the bird into the air (much to Kevin’s dissappointment) his eyes glazed over as he began to scout the woods through the bird’s sharper eyes. Those eyes proved of less use than he’d anticipated though as the owl was clearly agitated by a hidden danger within the woods and the bird would not stray far from the carts. Eventually their slow progress bought them to a less heavily wooded area, many of the original party recognised the place as the ruined homestead of the Ferry man whose shade Navarro had avenged. Pleased with their progress the halfling wagon teams bought the caravan to a halt and made preperations to camp for the night. Sharing their rations with the party while Luther played for them all, his lilting music bringing tears to the eyes of not only the halflings but the normally taciturn Dorian as well. The conversation flowed more easily after the bard’s music had lifted everyone’s spirits but it was clear that the halflings were unaware and untouched by the wood’s darkness, though they were rightly concrned about the dangers of the wilderness and agreed to share the watches that night.

Dorian took the first watch, which passed without incident until as darkness fell he caught sight of a etheral figure rising from the river and pacing the bank. The cleric kept a close eye on the figure but when it appeared to take no notice of the party he was content to leave it be until it was time for Nick’s watch.

“Wake up, it’s your watch” hissed Dorian to the strange fighter “there’s some kind of ghost out by the river but it doesn’t seem to be a problem so I’m getting some sleep”

“Ghost? You are holy person of Helm – should you not fix ghost problem?”

“You’re welcome to try yourself mate, but I’m off to bed” replied Dorian patting the man on his shoulder and pointing off toward where he’d seen the spirit earlier.

Nick looked at his halfling watch buddy “Come, we go take a look yes?”

“No, you’re alright – I’ll stay here by the fire if that’s all the same to you” he replied as he huddled into a blanket and hunkered down by the campfire

“Just me and you then Owl” Nick said shrugging before launching his bird into the air and watching it flutter off through the dark, seeing through it’s eyes he scoured the river and it’s surrounds but saw nothing. Yet when he called the bird back to him he glanced back to the riverbank and saw the ghostly figure stood staring at the ruined homestead. Confused he flicked his perception between his own and the owl’s but while the spirit was clearly visible to him the owl couldn’t see it, this along with the ever present forboding atmosphere of the deep woods seemed to take it’s toll on the owl and it refused to obey Nick’s instructions and settled next to the fire.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you bird” said Nick, eyeing Kevin the cat stalking his owl, the bird finally reacting as Kevin leapt at it but even then it merely flew to a low branch before huddling into itself again

“Better luck next time cat” chuckled Nick

“Fuck you” replied Kevin, causing Nick to look around wildly for the source of this new voice before abandoning the search and gingerly waking Gunnar for his watch and turning in for the night.

Gunnar, knowing the likely source of the strange apperition Nick had warned him about walked to the riverbank and tried to hail the Ferryman’s shade but the figure didn’t respond, feeling maudlin the barbarian flicked a gold coin into the river as an offering and ambled back to the camp. The rest of his watch passed without incident before he woke Greg for the last watch, taking care to let him know about the ghost but not to worry about it. Relieved that he didn’t need to fight off ghosts Greg spent his watch talking with one of the Halflings, who seemed very keen to one day join the Renegades and become an adventurer. The day dawned and they broke camp before continuing their journey to Yocan, the day passed slowly but without any danger – as they travelled further from the wood the strange sense of dread began to lessen, only Greg sat slumped on a barrel of mushroom wine seemed to dwell on the disturbance but he said nothing of his concerns and the others were happy to travel in silence.

Finally arriving on the outskirts of Yocan the party saw that the town had expanded significantly since their last visit, houses had sprawled out from the centre and were encroaching onto the surrounding fields. Entire districts seemed to have sprung up from the ground, above it all loomed the now stone walled keep of Dorian’s uncle Hammerbeard. Passing into the town proper some of the party noticed that some of the children playing in the streets bore strange rouged cheeks – some of whom melted into the alleys after noticing the Renegades’ return, no doubt eager to report back to Big Billy. The halflings drove their wagons to the main square, and bade the party farewell, Luther immediately made his way towards the much expanded Winter’s Hall in search of food and drink, though Navarro seemingly over his hangover if not yet free of his worries over his Master’s apparent betrayal marched ahead of him and slammed the door open. The others followed closely behind, Gunnar noting Silwind’s men still watching the monolith and nodded in silent response to one of them flashing a hand signal to him and Iivan that the local head of the Obsidian Order wanted to meet.

On entering the Hall the party’s arrival was greeted with cheering and applause, shocking Nick and Greg but immediately causing Iivan, Luther and Navarro to preen and grin in the adulation of the locals. Pushing through the throng gathering around them Winter appeared, greeting them effusively and calling for food and drinks and clearing a table for his new guests.

“What the fuck are you bastards doing in my town?” bellowed Hammerbeard with a thunderous look on his face as he shoved through the well wishers to reach the party, his scowl breaking into smiling laughter as he reached the table and slapped Navarro on the back heartily

“Welcome back lads, we heard all about Luther’s victory” he turned and grinned at Gunnar “and how you got beaten up by a wee girl in front of a whole city” he finished with a chuckle

“She wasn’t THAT wee…” began Gunnar defensively before the dwarf slapped him on the back companionably as he continued to greet the others in turn

“Uncle” said Dorian in Dwarvish nodding with a smile

“Welcome back nephew, I see you’ve grown up a bit since we last met” replied Hammerbeard

“Nephew?” asked Navarro quickly in Dwarven eyeing Dorian

“I didnee know you could speak Dwarvish” said Hammerbeard turning to the paladin “not many of your kind have mastered our tongue, but ye might be a little rusty Navarro, nephew can be either sex to us”

“Dwarves….of course their words have sex” muttered Balasar under his breath, thinking back to the strange siblings who claimed to own an incest shop in town with a shudder

“So who are your new friends?” asked Hammerbeard

“This is Greg the Guide” replied Dorian gesturing to the druid “and this is Nick….we’re not sure what he’s for yet”

“Be careful Hammerbeard, I fear this one has an agenda” cut in Navarro in Dwarvish

“Unlike you eh Dorian?” replied Hammerbeard winking at Dorian and laughing when the younger Dwarf blushed over their beard

“Is good to meet you” said Nick, oblivious to the exchange

“..and where’s your dog boy hiding?” contined Hammerbeard seamlessly, as he looked round the gathered Renegades the mood dropping as many of the party turned to Luther

“He’s dead” replied the bard flatly, pushing himself back from the table and rising to leave, Dorian and Greg followed him to check he was ok while the others tried to explain to a confused Hammerbeard how Fayd had fallen in combat against the Ork warlord Talon. Luther was led gently back to the table and Hammerbeard handed him a mug of ale before raising his own tankard

“To Fayd!” he roared, the rest of the tavern adding their voices to his amid the clash of clinking glasses.

The mood restired the evening proceeded marvelously, with Winter and his other patrons gathering to talk to the Renegades about their adventures, lauding Luther’s victory in claiming the Golden Harp and teasing Gunnar about his defeat at the hands of Spinebreaker as the party ate and drank their fill, finally able to rest and properly mourn Fayd’s passing. Eventually even Luther was pursuaded to play for the crowd, a stirring tale of their adventures – the softening of the melody into a dirge on Fayd’s death leaving the common room silent and patrons wiping tears from their eyes before Luther bought the tune back to it’s stirring, strident finale confrontation with the rift demons and the loss of the Pact. As the last note faded into the silence Winter’s Hall errupted in cheers and applause, Luther basking in the rapturous response he’d elicited from the crowd before returning to his companions and their feasting. Eventually, having drunk their fill the Renegades made their way unsteadily up to the rooms Winter had prepared for them and turned in for the night.

The morning dawned, far too early for most of the revellers, but Winter and his family had laid on a hearty breakfast in anticipaton of their needs and they slowly congrugated around the table. The door opened and Geoff, their former butler entered and upon seeing them quickly approached the table

“Sir Navarro, gentlemen it’s such a pleasure to see you all again. May I offer my condolences on the loss of Fayd, Mr Luther I know you two were close”

“Ahh my good man, it’s good to see you again too – how have you been since our home was burnt down?” asked Navarro

“Busy sir, I’ve been working on getting your new accomodations ready for you at Mayor Webster’s request”

The party shared a look at this unexpected good news and were about to press the matter further when the tavern door slammed open and in marched Lady Drake, flanked by several guards

“Father Lucius wants to see you” she announced, before adding “now!” when it became apparent that the group seemed more interested in their breakfast than seeing Father Lucius

“Alright gorgeous” winked Gunnar with what might well be suicidal bravery, but Lucius’ servant seemed not to hear or chose to ignore the barbarian’s comment.

Now roused by Navarro and to a lesser degree Dorian (who made sure to pocket a few sausages for the journey) the Renegades finally and reluctantly began to trudge after Lady Drake towards Hammerbeard’s fortress. On their arrival they were led through a maze of twisting stone flagged corridors until they were ushered into a large, quite grand room with a long polished wooden table running it’s length. Stood at the head of the table was Father Lucius, and from his experession he was not best pleased, groaning to himself Gunnar eschewed the chairs Lucius gestured to and found bench against the far wall to lay on….it was too early for religious prattle, particularly if it turned out to be as loud as Lucius’ expression suggested it might be.

As Gunnar had expected the meeting did not go well, Navarro feeling the lash of Lucius’ tongue for allowing his former Master to make off with the Pledge. Few of the others felt like speaking up, though Nick seemed keen to blame Navarro for the loss of the stone. After enduring the harang for what felt like hours but was probably less than half an hour Lucius dismissed Luther, Balasar Iivan and Gunnar who gladly accepted the opportunity to escape the stuffy room. Listening outside the door they could only hear muffled voices, but it was clear to the grinning bard that their colleagues, all of whom had much closer ties to Helm or the Church were taking a verbal beating at Lucius’ hands.