Friday, October 09, 2009


Gylwics 18th Dyarr YT330

The room was long and narrow. Down the centre were cages. Iron bars fixed into floor and ceiling surrounded small square areas of flagstone with pitiful collections of rags and the bones of the previous occupants. Some were animal skeletons but some were human or human-like. Father Nicolai went into each cell and reverently gathered and wrapped for burial the humanoid remains.

As he entered the last cage a creature leapt from concealment beneath a pile of rags. The speed with which it moved was alarming. It could have easily sprung on Nicolai but instead chose to rush past him out of the cage. Before Olorin could ready his axe the beast was swiftly past him and had disappeared through the arch into the cavern beyond. The animal reminded Olorin of the small tree creatures in the forests of Surt Tzingi. But this was much, much bigger. Perhaps more than an ell in length!

When they chose to explore the caverns themselves they discovered some large caves sloping slightly downwards. In the second cave they made several interesting finds.

The first was a floor with shallow pools and rivulets of slime. They gathered round and peered at it. They prodded and poked it. They dropped pebbles and dried meat in it. Finally they agreed that it was thick and sticky and that it stuck to a stick. But their considerations did not prevent Hamec and Vojeslaw from slipping on the stuff or keep their boots clean of the slime as they picked their way through.

A large growth of fungi was the next to be examined. Ochre, russet and verdigris coloured growth covered a large area. Brimstone picked some smaller examples of each type and pocketed them.

Large areas of the floor seemed to be covered in some form of growth which swayed slightly but they did not examine this as closely and chose to keep as far as they could from this. Perhaps not far enough.

Although they did not explore the whole cavern they did find a speleothem column, a pile of large boulders and two exits. Both were narrow. One appeared to be a natural formation, twisted like a shepherds prop. The other was straight as a die and led downwards beyond their sight with steep flights of steps and level passages alternating.

Disappearing into the Depths

Gylwics 18th Dyarr YT330

The busy citizens of Gylwics were out on he streets carrying out business, performing their duties and breathing in the air of a town on the knees of the Karbath mountains. Many of them looked straight through the slate-robed guide, two torpek, cleric, novice, mage, craftsman and diminutive thief as they passed through there midst. Even when they were within touching distance, none noticed them. It was as if they were so unremarkable that they could not possibly be there.

On reaching the castle at the highest point in the zig-zag street the guards also failed to register the little group passing through the gates or walking by the manor-keep into the ruins of the old keep.

Their new guide informed them that unless they drew attention to themselves they could all pass unmarked for several hours. He followed them into the collapsed cellars of the old keep but would not go any further.

When they reached the tunnel stair where Brimstone had stopped on his reconnaissance it looked as if he and some others would baulk again. The leadership of Olorin quickly persuaded Brimstone and Vojeslaw (once the later was persuaded that cats do not frequent dungeons). But Tolarr was still unwilling to go deeper. Olorin began to get angry and started speaking loudly to the other torpek in their own language. Tolarr shook himself and turning the spigot in his cask swallowed a great quantity of liquor before he forced himself onward. Perhaps the drink explained the red-faced look and the way he mumbled to himself. But it did not explain the scowl.

Friday, October 02, 2009

Settings Drawn from the Deep Recesses

A neat stone wall, almost man height surrounding untended gravestones. In the centre a larger monument stands proudly but many other markers tllt this way or that. The graveyard lies at a crossroads near to a rocky escarpment. The hills are brown and windswept with small twisted trees and areas of exposed rocks. Like bones showing through decaying flesh in the full moon's light. Nothing is moving. Nothing that can be seen.

A flat raised circle of lush grass rises through the dense broadleaf forest. The rising sun will soon rise between two carved stones, Two circles of stones sit within the space. Thirteen stones in the inner ring, more in the outer ring. Grass, stones and forest are still shades of grey in the half-light.

A settlement of black-timbered houses are splashed with sunset red reflected from the snowy peaks around it. No church or castle is evident but a single temple rises up in the middle of the town. And at it's summit is an altar and towering over that is the image of a wolf-god it's head still crowned in gold. A chill wind blows through the empty streets, stirring up the ochre leaves.

After using his talents to seek out a few images from the mind of the cultist, the magister of the Loyal Aurdun of Fyhar Gora slumped forwards exhausted. The resistance of the dark disciple had been formidable.