Previous: The Orion Transport Company
Betrayal and Familiar Faces
The journey to Kymal had its hiccups. Most notably the one where giant eagles attacked us. Lamora’s maneuvering helped save the day, along with Cail leaping off onto his skysail and preventing the open air from being a safe backdrop for the eagles. At the end of the fight, we thought we were going to lose Dracarys… he was sent plummeting towards the ground hundreds of feet below. But his monk training must have paid off, as he somehow managed not to so much as break a bone when he reached the ground.
We arrived at Kymal too late to dock, so the next morning Doros and I went to meet with the crew leader at the drydocks. Our vague intonations about a “benefactor” in Westruun convinced him instantly, without needing to get specific. And I mean instantly — he handed us a chest with 1000 Platinum with barely a question. Might have to pay him another visit next time we’re in town. Further procurements and all. We sent word to Lamora that things were clear, and she brought the ship in for repairs. The leader of the dock crew gave us an estimate that things would be done by nightfall.
INFORMATION
My notes here say “most of the party heads off to Critical Brunch 2,” a reference to another freewheeling filler session like DOG QUEST. Somehow I seem to have zero notes about what happened during either instance of Critical Brunch.
I broke from the party to complete my delivery for Gili. The man I was to meet attempted to cheat me out of my payment, and I wasn’t about to let that slide. With some not-so-subtle threats, I was able to coerce him to go fetch the rest of the payment upstairs, with myself escorting to ensure compliance of course. This may have been what he wanted though - when we got to the room, he tried to ambush me. I managed to win the short and chaotic scuffle and badly wound the contact, but he escaped before I could finish him. I tried to give chase, but home turf advantage… well, has its advantages. The box I’d been meant to deliver remained in my possession though.
On my way back to the drydock, I had another chance encounter. Sylcaryn, possibly the last person I’d expect to see, was wandering around Kymal. After a brief exchange, I decided to bring him back to The Mayfly. When the rest of the party rejoined us, he explained that he’d left the Verdant Expanse to seek help with a sort of blight, which had started in The Gladepools, but had been slowly spreading out into the forests for decades. Unchecked, it posed an existential threat to much of the southern half of Tal’dorei, and he’d made little progress understanding what was at the heart of it. The party collectively agreed that Cail’s quest was of higher importance (the blight’s creep was slow, after all… most shorter lived races would barely notice it growing at all), but that we’d assist Sylcaryn afterward. Sylcaryn agreed, and decided to join us.
A Jungle of Darkness
Sylcaryn wasn’t the only change to our party. Rylok, having decided that our path diverged to far from his own aims, left. Our departure from Kymal was somber. I opted to venture below decks and look into the box Gili had given me to deliver. Of course it was trapped — two locks, and I picked the false one — so I was blasted with poison gas. Sylcaryn healed me right away, and I was eventually able to get the box open. Empty. An empty box, and a contact who tried to kill me. I got the impression Gili didn’t mean for me to survive this job.
Important
As the party arrived in Kymal, the campaign’s GM needed to take a break from running things. Instead of pausing the campaign, he instead worked with a couple other players to have them take over for “guest arcs,” with each running one of the locations of Cail’s Quest with broad freedom for how they wanted to run things, and some light guidance for how the resolution of each should fit in to the broader campaign. This is where the first “guest arc” began, with the player for Mitro taking over the job of GM.
For the better part of a week, we sailed south towards Rifenmist. Sylcaryn pointed out the blight’s edges as we flew over The Gladepools, but it was otherwise a peaceful and uninteresting journey. Until we passed Weepthorne. The following morning several things happened in quick succession. We woke to find the helmsman draped over the wheel. We realized we were wildly off course. The brumestone engine gave out. We began falling.
I must give credit to Lolen. His designs for this ship prevented us from cratering into the ground. We were able to keep some forward momentum and end up skidding along the ground, crashing through the jungle. It was still a rough landing though. Mitro was crushed amongst cargo crates below decks. We were able to extract him but his left arm, part of his torso, and his hip were crushed. Sylcaryn was mostly able to heal him, but his arm needed to be amputated. Several other crew were in various states of injury. The ship itself was in bad shape too, a massive crack breaching the lower hull, and its main mast shattered. Most of our supplies found their way out through the crack during the crash and were strewn out across the forest.
We had two priorities. The hull breach could wait, but we needed a replacement for the mast quick, and we needed proper medical aid for the wounded. We spotted a large tree that would do for the mast, but it was quite some distance away through dense jungle. We developed a plan that Lamora and the rest of Dracarys’ crew would stay to mind the ship and tend to the wounded, and generally prevent things getting worse. The core party (except Mitro, who was the most wounded of any on the ship) would fetch the mast. We spent most of the day preparing, and bedded down in the wreckage of the hull to sleep.
The next morning we set out for the new mast, but not before noticing that The Mayfly was unusually laden with vines and undergrowth. For something that had just crashed the day before, there shouldn’t be much encroaching vegetation. Our trek forward was uneasy too - dense, soupy fog would roll through at random. There was a constant smell of damp soil and wood, but breaks in the fog carried something unpleasant… a deep musky smell that made our stomachs turn. Something was deeply wrong with this jungle.
Next: The Rifenmist Jungle