Previous: The Journey South
Warning
This chapter is just an outline for now. I hit a mental block and lost all motivation to take notes, so I need to cobble this together from memory, Discord chat history, the DM’s extremely thorough prepared handouts, and what few scribbles do actually exist in my journal. This will take time.
A Walk in the Woods
In the late morning we arrived at a village. Well, what was once a village. Now there was just a pile of burned corpses near to a small group of broken-down huts, and signs of recent battle. We approached cautiously, which proved prudent. As we drew near, several of the corpses reanimated and attacked. It was a quick brawl, but with an unpleasant wrinkle. Some of the undead exploded when they expired for a second time, releasing clouds of spores. Sylcaryn, Cail, and Dracarys each got a lungful.
When things calmed down, we explored the village remnants a bit more. I headed to the perimeter and discovered tracks headed southeast. Sylcaryn took a closer look at the pile of corpses and found broken armor inconsistent with the village inhabitants. The armor bore the insignia of the goddess Melora, which indicated that the corpses were burned by knights pledged to her. This enraged Sylcaryn, as Melora wouldn’t stand for the wholesale slaughter of a village.
When we approached the huts and find a small girl. She had been taken by some sort of disease, black veins prominent across her face, and wordless in response to our questions. She lead us behind the huts where we observed a husk of a man, infused with rot and fungus, chopping wood. He did not react to our presence or speak, and seemed truly lost to the world. It was safe to assume the husk was her father.
In the wreckage of one of the huts, we found a journal. From context, it appeared to belong to the husk man, formerly a druid named Alred Xilwynn. It chronicled the initial appearance of this rot. It began shortly after the annual harvest festival. Animals at a nearby plantation grew sick, their veins blackened and their dispositions running the gamut from lethargic to violent. On an aborted attempt to seek aid from the priests of the local temple, he had found a heretical shrine in the woods, with mushrooms growing inside the remnants of a smashed skull. An alchemist named Alpharius visited, contracted by the plantation to find a cure.
When Alred eventually made it to the temple, this time with a crew of fellows, he found it perverted and dedicated to some “God of Change” instead of its patron, Melora. It stank of death and decay, and the warmth of the Great Tree at the Heart of the Forest had faded. He and his band then resolved to abandon the village and head for Weepthorne. That changed when they returned to the village. Everyone had the black veins. Over the coming weeks, they change. Some blend with trees, some blend with creatures, some blend with their fellow villagers. In the final pages of the journal, we saw him go mad… the rot compelling him to chop. Chop wood. Chop.
Disturbed, we set out following the tracks to the southeast. That’s where Alpharius was supposed to be, and Sylcaryn greatly desired a word with the knights who had slaughtered that village. The girl (named Sarrah in the journal) declined to join us, choosing to stay with her father. With no way to cure her illness, we figured it was in nobody’s interest to compel her otherwise. Along the way we were ambushed by rot-infused creatures. It was an interesting fight. Sylcaryn summoned a growth of spikes between us and the ambushers, and Cail (using his skysail and kusurigama) impaled the most threatening enemy and dragged it helplessly around in the spikes, shredding it to pieces.
Scrawled in the margins are a couple quotes:
Cail, dragging an enemy through a sea of spikes
I oughtta be breathin’ fire cause I’m DRAG-ON this dude around!
Doros, Commanding an enemy away
Deedley-deedley-dee, climb that tree!
Alchemists and Instrumentalists
Shortly thereafter we arrived at Alpharius’ camp. He was a right jackass. Full of himself, callous… quite possibly still working on the cure he was supposed to be, but unhurried and unconcerned with who died in the process. His research is focused on extraplanar sources, and he is convinced that the source of this corruption (the “God of Change” referenced in the druid’s journal) is an entity called Zuggtmoy. The man seemed confident in his progress, but gave no direct answers. We acquired a map of the area, and then moved on further south in the direction of the plantation.
(WIP beyond this point)
Information
At some point here, we encounter the remnants of the knights, who are zealous about destroying the corruption here, as it’s attacking Melora herself. Sylcaryn is still put off by their approach, but we don’t challenge them. They’re about on their last legs anyway. They decide to join us on the way to the plantation.
We arrived at a plantation fronted with corn fields. It seemed to be a seat of evil, so I went ahead to scout things out. In a bit of bad luck, one of the creatures guarding the place happened to notice me within the corn field near the manor. I attempted to flee back to the others, but an animated scarecrow kept catching and grappling me. After a few rounds of this, I gave up on the idea of running and decided to fight. I punched my fist through the scarecrow and, taking shelter with its body, detonated a fireball out of the Ring of Spell Storing behind its back. This alerted the others that something was wrong, and they charged into the fray.\
Information
This was a cool fight, and I want to add more detail.
Once the scuffle was over, Doros picked up the cool viola that The Musician was using to compel people to dance.
Lock the Door
Information
For some reason (perhaps we hear more enemies on the way? maybe it’s growing dark), we retreat into the plantation and seal the door behind us. The knights tap out in the front hall, their wounds too dire to continue, but before they go they give Sylcaryn a banner of Melora.
Once inside, we explored most of the ground floor before going into the basement, which I need to expand on.
We then investigated the plantation’s manor. It was horrific. Mold and scraps of carrion everywhere. The whole place rent with decay. Within were the beings we believed to be behind this. We slew them… surprisingly easily. We found a coded journal documenting the source of the Change and its progression from the perspective of the people behind it. In the basement we discovered tools and scientific apparatus brewing some kind of black goo, as well as research notes. There was also an underground passage to the temple marked on the map.
We followed the passage and emerged into the woods to discover creatures injecting the black goo into the tree at the heart of the forest. This was the source of the corruption affecting jungle and attacking Melora. They had a giant mechanical construct that they were using to do the injection. We attacked. The construct fought back. In the face of its awesome might, Sylcaryn unfurled the banner, and in a burst of light was bestowed with extraordinary powers from Melora. With Sylcaryn ascendant as the Avatar of Melora, the rest of us turned to take out the minions while he battered away at the mech.
We won out, and Melora (now free of the corruption) appeared and teleported us to the Mayfly. In appreciation, she granted us boons. I received a quiver, Melora’s Sting containing an array of magic arrows with different effects. The others received other gifts: Melora’s Sight to tbd, Melora’s Circle to tbd, Melora’s Warmth to tbd, and Melora’s Touch to Mitro, replacing the arm he’d lost in the crash. She then restored the main mast of the Mayfly, imbuing the ship with a fragment of her spirit and rechristening it the Springfly. The ship gained a machine spirit, though what this meant we would only discover in time.
We left the jungle then. Tired, saddened (for we’d learned two of Dracarys’ crewmates had perished while we were away), and in dire need of healing and repairs, we made our way back to Weepthorne. We collected our thoughts, and after a night’s rest, made out for Visa Isle.
Next: Palecrest and the Past