Joff's departure, arrival of Shallimar

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Packing her bags with brief adieus to Akron at the bar "She may be a witch but she's not  spider people" -trust a one armed dwarf to put things in perspective, Joff sets off towards Shattered Bridge (or white hall whatever they call it) hoping her contacts havent forgotten her or worse the trail has gone cold. Following the caravan route back seemed reasonable but she thought it best for fish not to swim next to the hooks, even the worst fisherman foul hooks a prize now and then.

She intended to camp the first night by of the cave where they fought the owlbears, sure enough the den was inhabited again. So she went a bit north to camp by everspring. Wajano may be gone but the land around there had fresh water, decent prospects for foraging and was far enough off the beaten path.

After reasonable preparations she settled down for a rest in a hammock just high enough in the trees that she felt she could avoid any chance encounter.

Her slumber was interrupted the the sounds of laughter coming from the trees all around her. "Fairies..how annoying" she thought. The sensation of weightlessness soon revealed to her she was only dreaming.   Odd dream though, time seemed to be shifting  in this dream though even as it remained the dead of night  the life cycle of the forest seemed to accelerate all around summer, fall, winter, spring and again and again.  A single point of light the size of a firefly danced in front of Joff's eyes. It fluttered and flickered as it swayed in the breeze slowly growing  until suddenly it was the size of the sun.  Joff saw far below her a vast sunny meadow stretching to the horizon. At once realized she was not lying not in her hammock but resting  in a giant green hand.  Looking up, a beautiful face 10 yards wide gazed at her and a sing-song voice filled her head.
"I am Shallimar and you have the great honor of being of service to me.  Others have offered you a pact though your fate is now bound to me. Of course you have your desires and those will be fulfilled..." As she spoke  the briefest vision of a silver neck chain with a half dozen rings -one of which appeared exactly as Joff remembered her mother wearing. "But first you must complete three tasks for me. Can you remember three?" Her smile was incredibly comforting and only after she had done it did Joff realize she had nodded.
"First  remove the top Carin stone on the marker to Everspring it will seal the portal from any accidental incursions… See that is not such a terrible task.”
“Next,  convince your friends that you must find and destroy the Black tome. It is a gateway which should not be opened, it is a tool of the lurker beyond the stars.  The lurker will tempt any to its service it can touch. “
“Lastly travel to the well of souls and cast the dagger of the seven into the Glass pool . Do these things for me and my gifts will be bountiful.”
Joff wakes with sunrise, a flock of blue butterflies coating the hammock and takes to morning air as she stirs and lowers herself to the ground.

[Liqcrys]

Packing her bags with brief adieus to Akron at the bar "She may be a witch but she's not  spider people" -trust a one armed dwarf to put things in perspective, Joff sets off towards Shattered Bridge (or white hall whatever they call it) hoping her contacts havent forgotten her or worse the trail has gone cold. Following the caravan route back seemed reasonable but she thought it best for fish not to swim next to the hooks, even the worst fisherman foul hooks a prize now and then.

She intended to camp the first night by of the cave where they fought the owlbears, sure enough the den was inhabited again. So she went a bit north to camp by everspring. Wajano may be gone but the land around there had fresh water, decent prospects for foraging and was far enough off the beaten path.

After reasonable preparations she settled down for a rest in a hammock just high enough in the trees that she felt she could avoid any chance encounter.

Her slumber was interrupted the the sounds of laughter coming from the trees all around her. "Fairies..how annoying" she thought. The sensation of weightlessness soon revealed to her she was only dreaming.   Odd dream though, time seemed to be shifting  in this dream though even as it remained the dead of night  the life cycle of the forest seemed to accelerate all around summer, fall, winter, spring and again and again.  A single point of light the size of a firefly danced in front of Joff's eyes. It fluttered and flickered as it swayed in the breeze slowly growing  until suddenly it was the size of the sun.  Joff saw far below her a vast sunny meadow stretching to the horizon. At once realized she was not lying not in her hammock but resting  in a giant green hand.  Looking up, a beautiful face 10 yards wide gazed at her and a sing-song voice filled her head.
"I am Shallimar and you have the great honor of being of service to me.  Others have offered you a pact though your fate is now bound to me. Of course you have your desires and those will be fulfilled..." As she spoke  the briefest vision of a silver neck chain with a half dozen rings -one of which appeared exactly as Joff remembered her mother wearing. "But first you must complete three tasks for me. Can you remember three?" Her smile was incredibly comforting and only after she had done it did Joff realize she had nodded.
"First  remove the top Carin stone on the marker to Everspring it will seal the portal from any accidental incursions… See that is not such a terrible task.”
“Next,  convince your friends that you must find and destroy the Black tome. It is a gateway which should not be opened, it is a tool of the lurker beyond the stars.  The lurker will tempt any to its service it can touch. “
“Lastly travel to the well of souls and cast the dagger of the seven into the Glass pool . Do these things for me and my gifts will be bountiful.”
Joff wakes with sunrise, a flock of blue butterflies coating the hammock and takes to morning air as she stirs and lowers herself to the ground.

Ugh. This is what comes of associating with elf-kin to long. Feels like a hangover, but without the headache, more like a full-body ache She carefully descended from the tree. As she moved to the ground the dream's details seemed to be dissipating from her mind. Shalimar? The name struck at something within her. Her study at the temple had revealed many of the names men attached to the spirits of power in the world, but this one was unfamiliar. The spirits presence had been comforting and warm, but Jenn was wary. She thought of Three-Toes, an old sergeant from the far South. He would tell stories of winter campaigns, where his comrades might slowly and peacefully drift off to sleep and never wake up. Dealing with spirits, especially very powerful ones could be very dangerous. Dealing with Shallimar would be like dealing with the cold. There was no understanding it, and no stopping it if it should decide to act.  She had nodded in accord to Shalimar's request, so the contract was bound. Why me Shallimar? And why you? What's in it for you?. Jenn shook her head in frustration as she reached the ground. Always more questions than answers.


The ring! Jenn had seen all the rings dangling from the neck chain; beautiful bejeweled things glinting in whatever had been passing for light in that meadow. But one had stood out to her immediately. She would know it anywhere. Her father had found it after a storm, as the family picked up what few fallen branches their village was allowed by the nearest lord. A rough round of ash, slightly larger than her mother's finger. Her father had stared at it for awhile after finding it, and he spent several nights carving and polishing it in the dying light of their huts fireplace. He had smoothed it completely and then slowly carved tiny, intricate figures of nature into the edges. Years of proximity to her mother's skin had allowed the natural darkness of the wood to deepen and enrichen. Her mother had laughed at her father's gesture when he told her that he hadn't been able to give her a "lordly ring" when they got married, but was now giving her a "proper woodsman's ring". She had told him it was out of place for him to be putting on such airs, but Jenn watched her mother lovingly set the ring aside each night as they fell asleep. It was her mother distilled; simple, beautiful, natural, and strong. Is she still alive? The temple had taught her many things, and one was that spirits of power didn't see things the same way as mortals. Even the long-lived elves and dwarves couldn't fully understand their motivations. But Shallimar's offer stuck Jenn at her core. Fight the battle in front of you. She resolved to accept the spirits offer. Wherever her mother was, she would need all the power possible to exact payment from her captors.


Jenn thought about the three tasks. Easy, he/she says. Well thats easy for them to say. As she packed her backpack and removed any traces of her camp sight she tried to remember the locations. Everspring? Must be around here somewhere.  Just move a rock, how hard could it be? She chuckled inwardly as she remembered the other "simple" tasks she had undertaken recently. "Just go into the city of dead and get a book." No problem. "Just go rescue some Harvest Maidens." No problem. She scanned the landscape and headed towards where she last reckoned the entrance to the enchanted glade had been.

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Finding the gateway to Everspring is easy enough. While some time has passed and the winter snows concealed the undergrowth a well worn path seems to proceed right to the carin. The path comes to a large clearing in the wood and two large carins flank the path. Joff's understanding of the arcane recognizes this is the place where the veil between worlds is thin. Removing the heavy cap stones from the carins will work like removing the door knob form a door. it wont keep a dedicated intruder out but no one will wander in.

As she approaches the carins she notes an odd skull hidden on of each of the piles. Careful not to touch the skulls she detects the feint outline of rune on each. "Trapped" Warily she inspects the clearing and she recognizes the telltale signs. The password will be easy enough to guess.. "The cult of Hecate has been here and is warding the carin....No Problem."

[Liqcrys]

Damn the luck! She felt cold chills run down her back. Them. Here. Its just a coincidence. Its just a coincidence. She forced herself to slow her breath, the feeling of old panic returning unexpectedly. The signs of the three-faced God's followers' presence were unmistakable, though Jenn noted the absence of unsettling dark streaks on the cairns. At least they haven't consecrated it to Her yet. Jenn pulled her cloak closer around her and tugged her hood over her head, trying to shield her face from invisible eyes. She stared at the cairn, sensing the kami bound to the ward, hearing their frustrated chittering on the edge of her consciousness. Its just like picking a lock. A lock you can't see that will explode in your face if you do this wrong. The deformed skulls on the cairns seemed to stare back at her, taunting her with hollow eye sockets. Poor bastards. Whatever she needed, it wasn't worth this. Jenn remembered with a shudder the extent that Mardoin would go to, to get what she wanted. Months, even years of effort could be expended in the pursuit of the simplest seeming goal, and failure was never greeted lightly. Whomever she sent to do this knew the stakes, and they wouldn't have done it casually. I'd love to know why she needs this place. Whatever the reason, I'm sure it isn't for anyone's benefit but hers.

Jenn extended her hands, trying to feel the kami and their energy. She could sense a familiar pattern, a feeling, a touch of the casual cruelty that had been used in the wards binding. She was here herself? It was that important Jenn paused. She quickly glanced around the clearing once more, trying to determine how recently Everspring had been visited. Fight the battle in front of you Jenn She steeled herself, lowered her hands and spoke the password, "Mardoin".

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"Well at the very least the Runes didnt explode in my face." A glimpse of the child-like wisps of magical energy caught anchored in the outlines of the runes revealed an expression almost like disappointment as they evaporate. Real on not it is hard to say but magic this close to a portal between worlds is unsettling. Perhaps the personification of the magic energies is just a trick of the mind to help one process the influence of the otherworldly so close at hand. Perhaps it is as Wajano has said that all magic is alive and connected through some spirit-world. "Thoughts for another time....it may be worth while to investigate Everspring before disabling the portal, but then again if Mardoin is trapped there all the better. Doubt I could be that lucky but half a dozen of the order wouldnt be surprising."
She took the key stones out of each of the cairns and dragged the heavy stones several yards behind trees. "If I need them again I know where they are. First task accomplished... Now destroy the black tome..." As she mutters the words the image of the grimoire on an onyx pedestal comes into her head. The image of the scene expands and we see the pedestal is on an altar in the ruins of great cathedral. Time seems accelerated in the vision and she watches a shaft of light streaming in from a breach in ceiling move slowly across the floor. When the light touches the pedestal the outline of a translucent shadow of a cat is seen perched on the book. At once the image "zooms out" and she sees in perfect a circle 20 from the tome a ring of motionless figures four or five deep stand intently gazing at the tome. Their tattered garments hang from gaunt figures and no sign of vigor spoils their perfect mockery of life.

At once the vision disappears. "No Problem."

[Liqcrys]

Jenn wiped her brow as she finished removing what traces she could of her time at the glade's entrance. Taking one last glance around the camouflaged cairns she judged her efforts sufficient. She moved onward in the forest, moving west in the direction of Shattered Bridge No. They call it Whitehall again. The Thornywood's massive trees shaded her, but their large trunks and bowers kept the air still and fetid in the summer heat. Jenn looked ahead, an unconscious catalogue of the surrounding trees in the back of her mind as she carefully walked through the woods. Ash, alder, oak, oak, mulberry, ash...

At the front of her thoughts was the vision of the tome. The cathedral itself didn't strike her memory, but the circle of dead surrounding the dais was all-too familiar to her. Whitehall. Shattered buildings, grander than most, and an endless supply of the dead. Jenn reached into her traveling pouch, pulled out a piece of dried meat and began worrying it while she moved quietly through the underbrush. Her thoughts focused on the remaining tasks. I'll never do it alone. And there are so many questions. Where is the well of souls and the 'glass pool'? What is the dagger of the seven? Could it be the dagger that Shuiske is so afraid of? He's afraid of everything, so its hard to say. Was what Shallimar showed me in the vision of the tome actually in Whitehall?

Jenn walked onward for hours, leaving as little trace of her journey as possible. She stopped at a small rise, turning slowly in a complete circle, sniffing at the air. She perked up as her nose detected a small clear scent amidst the Thornywood's odors of musky decay. She moved quickly, traveling a few hundred yards through the forest to a small creek. She inspected the water upstream and downstream to make sure it was running clear and then tasted a small handful. Judging the water clean enough she set her pack down and took out a small oil-cloth wrapped bundle and a clean rag. She soaked the rag in the shallow creek and began to clean her face, neck and exposed skin. Jenn carefully unwrapped the bundle and took out some small vials and tins. Jenn carefully withdrew a small piece of silvered steel, making sure not to catch any of the meagre sunlight filtering through the trees. She stared at her foggy reflection. You're not the girl you used to be. The makeup was sorted and accounted, then Jenn began her work. She winced as the dying agent she applied to her skin sent its acrid fumes up her nose. Her hands entered into their routine, adding the subtle effects and touches to her face. Her mind wandered. I'll go to Shattered Bridge first, ask some questions about the city across the river. Try to make sure that the cathedral I saw in the vision is in that cursed city. Then I'll go to the elves and Maru (and maybe that half-elf with the armor) and ask them for help. Assuming I can find them. Jenn looked into the mirror as her hands finished their work. The small alterations by themselves didn't account for much, but their combined effect was dramatic. Coupled with a slight change in posture and an affected southern accent, only her mother would have been able to tell who she truly was. Joff judged the work adequate and began packing up the bag carefully. She placed everything back into her pack and looked around the forest once more. She stooped next to the creek and filled her water bag. Joff stood up and began her journey to Shattered Bridge.

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Something is different. While Shattered bridge was a fading beauty it didnt have the rough edges of a border town. The Eastern "Dawn gate" is captained by a pair of fully helmed warriors in plate plate armor who seem to make even the doubled guards uneasy. There are no friendly faces as the gate tax is being collected.

Jenn quickly makes her way through the the east gate and the merchants quarter to the neighborhood of cliff-side. The poor and the merchants who cater to them make much better company and ask fewer questions. Work is here for those who want it, able bodied men are pressed into cutting stone from the white cliffs for the new bridge. Raff had the wizard of the citadel cast out the undead years ago. Havent heard a ghoul howl in four harvests at least! Seems like they will begin with the wooden timbers to frame the bridg out by spring. The stone work should be done by next winter and then the rich farmlands south of the blight should be returned to vigor by the priestesses of Angharradh who are journeying from the Elven capital of Krys. "Yeah the taxes are higher, and the blackguard are a bit off-putting but they keep to themselves in the citadel, elves can have them I say."

From the rooftop Jenn can see at least half a dozen ruins across the gorge which could match her vision.

[Liqcrys]

The horse snorted nervously as they rode along the road to Wolfesboro. Joff patted the chestnut mare reassuringly, though she shared its attitude. Her shoulders shifted, seeking to relieve some of the stress of riding from her back. She had left Shattered Bridge days ago and now she kept looking to the horizon, trying to pierce the dense canopy of the trees for a sign of Maru's tower. Wolf's Tower? The Tower Of The Wolf? Wonder what the locals call it now.

The city trip had been revealing in what she had not seen. Joff found it curious that in all the planning and work that had gone into the efforts of reclaiming Whitehall, no one had thought to begin work on the other side. Not even the opportunist land grabbers? All that fresh soil, waiting for the farmer's hand and no one has begun working it. Its not like the river is uncrossable.

The absence of familiar faces on the gates told its own story as well. All her ex-comrades who had served in the watch were hardened  caravan guards, looking for a more stable semi-retirement. They wouldn't have left unless they knew something bad was happening. Olin* was a sergeant! His sons would be old enough to be cutting stone on the cliffside now. Either they had gotten out before things got to bad or there had been a quiet coup in the halls of power. Joff hoped for the former. The figures standing behind them spoke volumes in their silences as well. Someone was afraid. Full helms? Thats garb for warriors, not guards. Plate armor is to heavy to run through a city or tear across the ramparts. Guards need to be able to move to trouble. Plate's for folks who bring trouble with them. Whoever was in charge of the city feared or expected trouble.

The mare cantered quietly through the forest now, the sound of its hooves deadened by the trees. The daylight was beginning to dapple the road as the branches overhead thinned slightly. The rays of sunlight reminded her of the vision of the cathedral. Waiting. The dead are waiting for something. Raff's drive to open the bridge troubled her even more now. Her unease seemed to pass to the mare and it shuddered briefly. Joff knew first-hand that the dead in Whitehall were quiet, but not gone. Had there been a cleansing of the abandoned city it would surely have been triumphant news and long remembered, but no one spoke of any knowledge of Whitehall other than what Raff had told them. They must be connected somehow. The tome and Raff's drive to get across the river. But why wouldn't he just go over there now and take the tome,if that's what he wants. Shalimar said ... destroy the Black tome. It is a gateway which should not be opened, it is a tool of the lurker beyond the stars.  The lurker will tempt any to its service it can touch. Raff had already shone that he was very susceptible to suggestion. Shiuske had sent him racing through the forest with little trouble apparently, so it was very possible that Raff was under some influence. She was uncertain though. There was so little real information. Right or not it doesn't matter. I'm certain the Tome is in Whitehall. Shalimar made a deal, and its the only lead I have for mama. I have to convince them to help me.

Joff sat up in the saddle as bright light began to shine onto the road. As she passed out of the forest the tower's upper floors could be seen. The clearing around the tower seemed to be growing as more and more of the Wolf Clan came. She rode into the village and tied her horse up outside of the tavern. Joff brushed the mare and rubbed it down with rough rags from her pack. She whispered an invocation as she passed her hand across the horse's body, leaving a glossy clean coat in its path. When she had finished tending to the horse she poked her head into the tavern. Seeing Akron asleep at his table she winked at the bartender. Joff flashed him her best smile as she placed silver pieces in his rough hands and said, "Bring him ale, and some food when he wakes. Tell him 'Joff says hello'. Don't give him the ale till he eats the food."

She walked outside to the busy village. The clansmen seemed to have completely overwhelmed any of the original villagers. Good news if your expecting trouble. Bad news if you're trying to trade for silver. She glanced back over her shoulder at the tavern. Wonder what the exchange rate on pretty stones and rocks is? Joff headed for the tower to look for her companions, hoping they were here.



*author's note to DM: I can't remember what we named the NPC I interacted briefly with on our last time in Shattered Bridge, so I've substituted this name here. His name shall be Olin! Unless you remember what it actually was. If so let me know so I can change.

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