RoundTable Adventuring

Marsten has a dream...

Marsten awoke to a warm, honey feeling oozing though out his body and a thousand points of light in the sky above him, swirling and dancing, stars and energy. It wasn’t until he tried to move that he realized he was naked with his arms and legs frozen into the surface of a familiar lake.

“You like the way I make you feel don’t you?” Sinnndy purred, tracing a talon over his chest. “I like the way you make me feel and that’s why we’ll be together forever and ever and ever and we’ll have a house and neighbors and i’ll meet all your coworkers and friends and parents, you’ll meet my mom when we overthrow her and take her place as queen and you’ll be king, and Murky will be our pet who plays with the kids. He’retyudjeo, C’shilkesi, and Marsten Jr!…” Sinnndy paused in her rant a moment to favor Marsten with her widest grin… “Won’t it be great my mortal morsel of man meat? You’re UP for it aren’t you? I can tell you are.”

Sinnndy snuggled into Marsten’s shoulder and was quiet of a moment.

“But don’t worry,” she continued as she straddled his torso," I know what you are afraid of, I know SOOO much about you thats why we are so great together, but I have something for that and then there will be no problems with us being together and we will…"

“Get off my Bro, skank!”

Marsten crinked his neck to look above him and saw a writhing, undulating mass of brain and slime.

“We go way back. Way before you can along.”

“He’s moved up in the multiverse since then, he doesn’t need OR WANT you. So keep you slimey, DISGUSTING… parts to youself,” Sinnndy retorted to the Mindmass. “Baby, you are so much better than this loser”

“Bros before demonic hoes, slut. He’d rather pound beers, subsume his mind and surrender his husk to us. YA!”

As the shouting match in his head continued Marsten only had a single thought of his own in his head, “If this is a dream, why can’t I wake up?”

Marstan #1

When i decided that i wanted more adventure in my life i had no idea how much i was in for or how quickly i was in for it. less than 30 minutes after answering a recruiting advertisement for a guild i found myself on a trek to rescue an employee that took me an several others on a journey of several days that has so far resulted in: being accosted by commoners infested with some form of brain devouring parasite, falling through a portal into a realm of deathly cold, having to huddle around a druid in fire elemental form to stay warm enough to survive, wandering through what apparently counts as a forest in this strange place that seems to be made entirely of rocks, being accosted by demons, discovering that we were in a shard of The Abyss, apparently gaining a Succubus as a “girlfriend/stalker/attempted murderer” (still trying to figure that one out) and then watching the sun rise and turning the deathly cold into boiling hot within minutes. If i survive this bizarre life i feel like i will have a great deal of fun regaling my compatriots back home with my stories, and possibly (if i ever figure out how to deal with that energy draining problem of a succubus) introducing a new woman to them. That’ll show Al’Tenzir the smug bastard.

Nyssa's Journal 4

In all my years and all my travels, never have I encountered anything like what we saw today. After enduring the Siege of Oregent, we returned to the guild hall only to discover that Jack (I think that is his name) was missing. I only met the man once, but he seemed to be respectable enough and offered me a drink which counts for something. Anyways, members of the group decided to head out after him. Having no real purpose of staying in Oregent, I decided to accompany them, if only to get to know some of the RoundTable members better. If I am to throw my lot in with them, I should know as many of this crew as possible.

We traveled a few days using a magic compass that was given to us. We came across a very odd artifact that seemed to be interacting with the ley lines in the area. As this is of particular interest to me, I was very very intrigued. We entered into a mountain and discovered some sort of portal. I was quite concerned as non-natural magics such as portals are hardly something to dealt with lightly. Other members of the party showed little restraint though and immediately entered. If not for my presence and my powers to transform into an Elder Fire Elemental, I suspect the RoundTable group would be short a few members. Some sort of odd stone cavern and shelf that absorbs energy at an alarming rate. Luckily I was able to generate enough heat to keep us warm for the evening. We set out to explore this unknown place once we have had a chance to rest and get our bearings.

On the topic of relocation

I would cast my vote for Nexian capital of Quantium. In addition to the city’s beauty and majesty, they hold a wealth of arcane knowledge unparalleled in the world. They have ready access to the inner sea as well as Casmirron, Garrund and Tian Xia via the Obari ocean. In addition the city is well guarded by the Quantium golems created by Nex many millennia ago, they have not been defeted. The city is always interested in new blood, they have a policy of acceptance, frowning on xenophobia, which will certainly help this group feel at home. And I have a some inroads with a few of the political powers in the region who might be able to help us settle in.

Lets move to Caliphas, across lake Encarthan, largest city in Ustalav, no mater what anybody tells ya. Very cosmopolitan feel and not a month goes by without some town or another paying out handsomely for somebody to deal with their werewolf, or undead problem (Carrok I’m looking at you), Giving those that want it a good way to work off steam (Varro, lookin’ at you). As well as a great deal of occult knowledge (Gretchen… oh wait she’s not here for the vote.)

I would say Hermia but I doubtless believe that Mengkare would allow that for any amount of time. But if you so choose I would love to set up an audience with the shepherd of light. In all seriousness however I believe that Absalom is the best choice. it’s large enough that our small group could disappear in the hustle and bustle. The pathfinder’s have used it for years and never ran into a problem like we did in Oregent. And nothing is more central than the city at the centre of the world.

Carrock's Private Log 9

1 – Outcome rather disappointing, must reflect upon facts: 

  • Hands of the Mystic Discordia coordinated an assault upon Oregent, taking advantage of city’s relatively-isolated location and small local defense force.
  • City encased within artifact-created pyramid of force and guild ordered to surrender Orb of Dying Light.
  • Guild members formed small strike squad out of personnel present within city, proceeded to travel street-to-street.
    • Strike team forced to seek thin leads and consistently one step behind.
  • Encountered necromancers in temple district, where they desecrated all temples and killed all priests, raising all victims of siege as undead.
  • Cleansing of temple district shifted tides but didn’t reveal coordinators or leaders.
  • Deactivated artifact, slew dwarven mage protecting leaders.
  • Personally confronted dwarven mages coordinating assault.
    • Mages escaped.


  • No leads.
  • Guildmember slain: Artanis (returned to life; retired from fieldwork).
  • Guildmembers missing: unknown; may have been attacked in other locations.
    • Must establish contact with away team on Stonespine Island.
  • Guildmembers in danger: unknown; Roukan reported Tomoe being kidnapped, apparently at start of siege.
    • Reason??
  • Guild to be banished from Oregent.
    • Must manage withdrawl and coordination of assets unwilling to transfer to unknown alternative location.
  • Pyramid artifact claimed by Almas government; guild paid “finders fee”.

In being forced to choose between leaving Oregent (as the guild has been told to do) or stay (and work for the temple/Voices), I am more inclined toward remaining with the guild. I never wanted to lead, but I feel that I can make a good case for returning to active field work, instead promoting Arwydd Turridin to take over for me in the tasks demanded by the Voices in Oregent and the greater Andoran area. I am told by those who’ve worked with her that she knows her way around being a team leader; that it is “obviously in the blood”… Something to do with the local Five Kings dwarven territories. Regardless, with Arwydd promoted to director, I will be free once more to pursue individuals instead of a bigger picture. A return to the active fight will also allow me to devote more energy to helping manage the guild… and it shall need help, with the changes thrust upon us. If we intend to pursue more artifacts and take the fight to the Hands, we shall need focus.

I also fear this non-request for the stewardship of the pyramid artifact by the government; the Hands have penetrated the governments of many nations from what I am made aware, and I fear it will just immediately return to their control. I must attempt to expand my network, and make the Voices aware of the shift of circumstances.

The kidnapping of the monk Tomoe is a hammer-blow, as well. Honestly, it is a disaster, because one can only conclude that she was taken by the Hands, despite their lack of personal presence in the siege. I don’t know what they’d want with her in particular, or where to start looking, but I’m assuming it’s either a personal vendetta (she said her master was “very likely” a member of the Hands) or they wanted to torture information about us out of her. What I do know is that they apparently appeared instantaneously (likely teleported in), then dispatched the worg almost immediately. My own preliminary investigation (and a follow-up, being more thorough) gave no clues aside from the fact that she was very likely teleported away, and that there were at least six persons involved judging by the tracks within the house (and the individual scents, according to the worg); likely average-height human-type humanoids. She is… easily recognized, but if she’s not seen anywhere, I have nowhere to start. I have called in for some help from the Voices and to have them send a specialist… we shall have to attempt to track the teleportation, first.

… On a personal note, I must also track down those responsible for this assault. I have committed the faces of the dwarven mages both to memory and paper, and agents are making inquiries… but this is a personal failure. There is much lost. I can only hope that something turns out positive from this, because I struggle to remain positive.

Nyssa's Journal #3

The winds have finally returned to Oregent. Though it had been only days since the impenetrable barrier cut us off from the world at large, for me it felt like months if not years. If it had not been for this RoundTable group, I am almost certain the winds would have been lost to me forever. Then again, as the leader of this city observed, if it wasn’t for this rag tag group of Adventurers, then perhaps none of this would have happened in the first place.

I have spent many months in this strange city listening to the winds as they disclosed various details about this group that has gradually grown in both fame and infamy. I have spent these months wondering if they were not somehow brought together for a higher purpose or goal. But in all those months of listening, watching, and thinking, I did not get even close to truly understanding them. They fight with a raw fury and consistently throw caution to the winds. They squabble over a proper course of action or plan of advancement and then seconds later seem completely unified in purpose and deed. In many ways they remind me of my mother’s crew though none of those old sailors would last more than a few seconds against the divine and martial powers of the RoundTable. Is it mere coincidence that I traveled half-way around the world only to wind up falling in with the same type of folk I left behind? Or has Gozreh led me here for some purpose that I have yet to discover? Either way, for now I feel my place is among them.

Some of my new companions seem to be slightly unsettled over the loss of their guild hall, but if it were up to me we would simply stay on the move beneath the open sky. Cities always harbor many secrets and even more dangers. If there is one thing the past weeks have taught me, it is that this group is no stranger to the world of secrets and danger. Perhaps that is why I can’t ignore the whisper of the wind that brings with it dark tidings. For now, I shall keep my fears to myself, but I sense our recent trials were nothing more than the cool breeze that heralds the oncoming storm.

Screech #14

I swear to hunt down all those who planned or conspired to murder and terrorize the citizens of this city in advancement of the goal of stealing the artifact and all those who helped them for profit or hate.

Carrock's Private Log 8

1 – “They will be fine, The Lady will protect the temple”. Would that that had been true. The consecrated temple was infiltrated, The Lady’s influence denied, and the priests struck down… how was this not anticipated? It was not my duty to protect the temple from within; I am the spear-point, and yet… I clearly have not yet taken these enemies and the threat they pose seriously enough. The truth is as clear as the beak on my face: they have desecrated my temple and are here because of my actions, and those of my allies. With battles fought through a sell-sword army, assaults upon our local reputation, and the hunt of the living within these walls… We are at war.

I entered the temple to Pharasma; my workplace and refuge on most days. My allies had separated already and were within the other temples in the district, likely facing parallels to whatever I was about to encounter. As I walked through the crowded undead shambling in the outer assemblage, I realized just how furious I could get. I had gone so long since the last display of my anger, keeping it carefully bottled up… that was before I became who I now am. I had been in the building only the day before but it was surreal now in the difference, transformed into a nightmarish mockery of its subtle splendour: undead patrolling the halls of a temple to the goddess of the dead; my fellow priests and believers slaughtered mercilessly, likely while tending to the bodies. Several looked to have been butchered suddenly from behind, others died in the true horror of being eaten alive by the revival of those they sought to inter. All were dead.

I strode up the stairs toward the dais and beheld the desecrated altar, and The Worm standing near it; he did not hear my approach. I was trembling with anticipation as I stood behind my enemy at the defiled place of my worship, unable to hear my goddess but deafened by the pounding blood in my ears. I saw nothing within him to explain the next step he wanted to take… he only awaited me. I studied him for almost too long, but the blades found my hands easily enough. I needed to not be trembling at the least… it had been too long since I had practiced, and the shot of adrenaline coupled with my fury was enough to possibly weaken my opening strike. His unholy symbol hung from a chain around his wrist, and his head would turn this way and that as he eagerly sought what would ultimately be his death. Necromancers… he so desired to spread death, and I was finally calmed by the opportunity to introduce him to it first; to see if he appreciated its subtleties in spite of his unrefined palate.

I cleared the temple of the necromancers’ filth alone, to the last corpse, and yet I take no pride in the achievement. I should have retreated after burying Gin Kiba in The Worm’s aorta, but something took me immediately after and I just kept swinging at the horde… I may have been screaming; my throat’s hoarseness says so, at least. All pretences of control or grace left, and my blades became scythes through wheat; I sought only to bathe them in the blood of these fallen innocents. I could not save them; I could only cleanse them. I recall drawing a line on the floor in the blood dripping from the blade even as the horde pressed in, their arms raising again. I would focus on the arms of the ones crossing the line first, then the heads behind that row; I used the advancing horde against itself and slaughtered them all, receiving cover from the armless row as my blade darted over their shoulders and into any faces I saw behind, before repeating the process. I tremble even at the memory, and the more terrible memory of its lethal efficiency: one hundred twenty dead.

The only successes were that the pathetic fool orchestrating this leg of the attack has been destroyed, and that the temple shall now be restored. Still, the faith is likely dealt a mortal wound in this city; the clergy are slaughtered to a man, and nothing remains but the books and teachings. Thankfully they had not yet burned the temple, if they had intended to. I placed obols upon the corpses of the priests and the faithful, setting them aside in repose; I can do nothing else for the time being. Using The Lady’s gift for my servitude I spoke to one, and he confirmed my suspicions. I told him to rest within The Lady’s protective arms; I would ensure the temple’s security, and manage the funerary affairs of his body; of everyone’s bodies.

I may still need use of my blades before the use of the shovel, though. I found myself wondering about the disposition of other allies in this city while I tended to the fallen priests: Hollin and Savram are thankfully fine, having taken up residence within the guild headquarters yesterday, but who else is safe? We are continually forced to run around, being reactive instead of proactive, and so cannot see to our own in this crisis. I know that Chartreux showed up yesterday at the headquarters as well, and we found Bleck in the street… I shall need the numbers from Artanis so we may arrange Jak and the others’ efforts toward protecting our own. Tomoe, for instance, will need to be collected and escorted (rolled?) to the headquarters… The “active” team must remain active, but the others can get to the rest, city guards and stupid plans notwithstanding. We are stronger together, so it’s time to collect those who claim loyalty to the guild still within the pyramid’s walls and defend ourselves. With the ambush upon Bleck we need to assume they are targeting us first.

I mounted the necromancer’s head on a spike outside of the temple; I will add the others, and continue until the statement is complete: “you have failed, and you have made a grave miscalculation”. There will likely be more blood spilled this day, and now that we are finally joined in battle, I fear some of it may be our own (especially since the harrow was… not positive). I do not know if these bastards are aware of the metaphorical folly of kicking open a hornet’s nest, but I will still show them. I am not a priest… and sadly, we are joined in a holy war now, with only myself as the remaining representative of Pharasma’s faith in this city… but I will devote myself to providing a resounding answer to this insult. My brothers and sisters are with The Lady now, and if I couldn’t save them, I will at least stake my last breath on avenging them.

Nyssa's Journal #2

The absence of wind is starting to get to me. At first, I found myself so caught up in the mystery and excitement of being a part of this group of adventurers, that I barely felt the difference. But now that I’ve gone over a day without it, it has certainly begun to feel unnerving. Earlier this evening, I found myself ambushed by a foe I am sure I would have detected if only the wind was present. This feeling …. it is like I have lost part of my very being. Whatever these strange magical artifacts are that have created this field around town, we must find a way to deal with them quickly.

We. Interesting I find myself already using that terminology when it comes to this group. Although they remain cautious of my involvement, my druidic powers have so far proved useful to the group’s efforts to combat the necromatic presence that has descended upon the town. But what will they think once this crisis is over? Now that I have revealed myself to them, I can hardly go back to casual listening on the winds. One way or another, it appears my future with this group will change.

Carrock's Private Log 7

1 – Today, I had returned to Tomoe’s home as soon as I felt it appropriate; I must say the boys were concerned as I paced the apartment until 10 am. I arrived with a sheath of our reports which I’d been working with and was ushered within to meet with my spherical hostess. She accepted the reports with grace and we quickly returned to conversation; there was a calming ease between us that unmasked me, possibly simply because we were able to converse in the language of our shared homeland instead of Taldane. Indeed, at about noon, after discussing the way things were being run and what the jobs were, I removed my mask, thanking The Lady for the rest this young woman provided a weary mind.

Over tea I would explain everything to my compatriot: the guild doubling as my task force for the Voices, the concern about leadership or initiative, the increasing threat of the Hands of the Mystic Discordia… I realized later that she got pretty much everything I had never mentioned to others in the guild from me. I even mentioned Artanis and her ongoing attempts to gun for my work and files, and a small smile flitted across the halfling woman’s face for a moment. She, too, knew about having to account for another’s clandestine efforts against one’s own actions. It was extremely odd; for the first time since traveling to this continent, I conversed as “Riller”, not “Carrock”.

She, in turn, explained her slave master, her training master, her master’s obvious connection to what she now knows as the Hands, and began to explain about her plans for the future regarding her contracts, but stopped herself suddenly, shaking her fat-encased head and seeming to reprimand herself; “you never know who’s listening”.

Almost appropriately, at that very moment I was suddenly startled out of the extremely relaxed stupor of our conversation by the arrival of Roukan in the room, his hackles raised but his face quizzical. He began to speak, but sounds of someone running across the roof above us said as much for him. I sprung to my feet and had my sword out before the runner gained the window, yet it was only one of the agents I’d recruited for the Voices, a half-elf by the name of Marphazor, and he had his own daggers up, likely just in case of my attack… and yet, his daggers were already bloody. He was taken aback by the size of my companion for a beat, and also the sight of my naked face, before breathlessly telling me that Garric, another of our agents, had reported after several hours of silence that we were “blind” and that “it’s all come apart”. Thus, Marphazor had been told to fetch me to the guildhall posthaste, but had actually been attacked suddenly while en route to find me.

While I knew that Garric had an active imagination, the blood was a vibrant indication of things out of the ordinary. I donned my mask quickly and apologized for cutting the visit short, though my hostess simply sipped her tea and waved me off, saying that it was time for her exercises anyways. As I settled my gear and crossed to the window I asked if I should post a guard, but Roukan gave me a look that said that the question was somewhat off-putting, so I followed Marphazor out the window without another word. The weariness within my bones has weakened my vigilance, but the restful sleep I’d received has reawakened me. I don’t know how much rust I’ll have to work off my muscles, but I am prepared to face the challenges approaching. It would be good to get a bit of blood on my blades once more.

2 – As Marphazor and I traveled to the guildhall, I heard fireworks and saw the beginnings of a magical light show colouring the sky from the centre of town; I was not aware of any particular event happening, but a comment from a passerby filtering up the road toward the noise reminded me of a report that a bard troupe would be visiting; one claiming unforgettable events and setpieces. While pinching coin was the only thing I used to join such crowds for in the past, I had larger concerns and more readily-available money now. =A phrase is written in Tien here which roughly translates as “the wild dog starves and the tamed dog wears a chain”= Nonetheless, it did indeed seem to be drawing a massive crowd, and in the short time it took me to reach the guildhall from Tomoe’s apartment in the dusk light, the streets were nearly empty. Curious.

The guildhall was relatively quiet, and Marphazor left me at the entrance; more runners must be roused and notified. I continued up the stairs in haste; I hate being unaware of what’s happening, and too many things felt just out of reach. Ascending to the Roost, I found my office in chaos. Garric, a young halfling of a somewhat excitable disposition, quickly caught me up on the situation: while researching local event rumors, he had put several reports together which had a theme, seeing the pattern which I had missed in my stress: an event was planned involving this very guild, but the details were light. He needed help digging through the reports to put it together, and right away! I was not about to argue with him.

As we worked, Garric spoke of what he knew so far, and that only one of his pieces of the pattern had mentioned this very day. We began to pull reports, and as we filled in the situation, a sort of tense dread began to fill the room, as though we were already too late. Ice… necromancy… artifact?? While Garric was confused about such details, I was near panic; precious few people knew about the artifact, but pieces were coming together that spoke to the fact that more than I’d hoped were aware of its existence… and its presence within the guildhall.

The jig, as the humans around here say, was up. I jumped to my feet at the first explosion; it wasn’t fireworks anymore… a siege stone had impacted a neighbouring building, and there was screaming. I raced to the door and down the stairs, very nearly bowling over Artanis in the process. She wanted… paperwork? A new guild member…? I hurriedly told her I didn’t have time, and brushed past her and her guest; we needed to get after the current emergency! The woman always had a confusing set of priorities, and it was not the moment to indulge an obsession.

3 – … I suppose that’s pretty much all I’ve got: we’re under attack by mercenaries, likely hired by the Hands or possibly another one of the many enemies we’ve created, and there appears to be some sort of… siege taking place. The guildhall was being bombarded with rocks, and Varro and I found and roundly abused a man trying to break into the vault, who told us, under great pain, of the general details of the plan. We eventually recovered a sort of spotter’s ring from another of our attackers captured by Screech; using it, we were able to convince the siege crews that they were missing the guildhall, but we shortly thereafter discovered ourselves to be trapped within a sort of pyramid of force which now surrounds the town, so it appears that our options are quickly being narrowed down to “fight”. There was a revelation that the event was intended to trick and trap us in particular and that they wanted the orb… and this sylph; some manner of hopeful new recruit who shows up right as we enter what will likely be the greatest trial we (and likely Oregent) has ever faced. She picked a hell of a time to step up, and I don’t trust her.

… The mayor has requested our presence tomorrow, but for now… I am exhausted. We shall see if I can sleep; winding down by writing in my log hasn’t helped me relax, but it’s a different sort of tired than the usual.


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