The Well of the Halfhollows, The Culmination

In the four final sessions of this story arc, “The Well of the Halfhollows,” our adventurers rushed the nemesis Dolyos Miren’s timetable and forced his hand, leading to a series of confrontations in the capitol city of Thrennum. Our usual schedule for gaming stretched around the holidays, so I decided to wait to write up the recap of the story’s culmination until the adventurers had resolved their conflicts and made their way across the channel and through the capitol city and to the Outer Council. A lot happened in that time, and I will do my best to summarize briefly the story here. If I missed an important anecdote in my survey of the events of the past four sessions, please feel free to comment. So after a bit of a wait, here is the resolution of our story arc for the campaign “The Well of the Halfhollows!”

The eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth sessions were honored by the presence of the following player characters:

  • Hodjai, the Djenndan fighter with deviant back-alley tendencies, played by @Evan
  • Sookta, the Djenndan blacksmith with the cart moves, played by @xSubNuke
  • Lemur-o, the kahlnissá ghost with a penchant for gold by way of self-preservation, played by @Terri
  • Ts’uviti, the viantu savant with all the right notes, played by @saelbrin

We last left our heroes on their midday arrival in Asnaranthia, the port city of many names, after an exhausting sixteen days of travel. Upon their arrival, the adventurers made their way through bustling crowds and commerce all the way to the fountain at the small city’s center. While staring up at the sculpture at the heart of the fountain–a serpentine sea monster clutching a ship out of water–Lady Grilea expressed her deep interest in procuring immediate passage across the channel to the capitol city, and it was clear she was overcome with tension. “Pidgeons fly faster than ships,” as the saying goes. Ser Jahann claimed that their arrival might already be late. There may be no way to know how Dolyos would try to stop them, but everyone in the party seemed to agree that he would try. Thus the adventurers surmised that even though there is a regular ship traveling to and from the capitol each day, this Empire’s Ferry might not be safe for arriving unnoticed.

Hearing this was not enough to motivate some to press on, especially after such a long journey. The adventurers of the group seemed to have almost singular intentions. Lemur-o wished to part ways with some of their acquired goods. Taking Ser Runt with her she walked off to meet with some merchants and pick some pockets–er, rumors–along the way. Sookta wanted to find the seediest establishment the port city had to offer in order to gather information and perhaps find a ship to “smuggle” their group into the capitol docks. Ts’uviti wanted to share a newly composed song about the evils of Dolyos Miren and the plight of the Ad’Tai. But Hodjai wondered if their public warnings about Dolyos would have a paradoxical effect. Lady Grilea agreed that discretion and stealth should mark their travel, but did not wish to have the entire group travel to the docks in search of a smuggler’s shuttle. Ser Jahann suggested that the Lady and the remaining knights would find food and shelter, and meet the rest of the party at the fountain at dusk. This left Sookta, Hodjai, and Ts’uviti, along with their Ad’Tai advocate, Kelbur Hant, and their new traveling companion, Dyrakos Virrados, to head toward the Old Docks in search of a run-down establishment where smugglers might frequent.

They found their grotto in a place called “The Barreled Ocean,” a ramshackle old house-turned-tavern that seemed like its structure was formed with grime as much as with weathered wood. The smell of the place matched its appearance–dank, dark, and possibly rotten. Still, the party did not want to stand out in a noticeable way, so they sat at a table to order food and drink. An ais’lun with an obnoxiously loud laugh and an odd quirk of spending too much time near the tables he served stepped over to greet the adventurers. They ordered a meal, and asked about ships going to the capitol. The obnoxious man mentioned that most of the ships around the docks are headed into the capitol at different times throughout the day. One such ship, The Creaking Swindler, was leaving in the early morning; the ais’lun pointed out the captain of the ship sitting on the opposite side of the tavern. The adventurers sat for a time, ate the nearly putrid food and drank the slippery beverage, and then found the right moment to approach the swindle-ship captain.

The Creaking Swindler’s captain was Bowyn Djorvelk, a rough-looking ais’lun with a nasty scar across his face. His price was steep–500 threnns per person–but for that fee Captain Djorvelk was willing to transport their group in secret, no questions asked. He instructed the adventurers to meet him with the gold at the docks just before dawn. The adventurers nodded reluctantly, their stomachs turning uneasily as they left The Barreled Ocean and headed back toward the fountain. Did they have enough gold? And if they all could afford to travel together, would that be a risk upon arriving?

Back at the fountain, Lem’, Lady Grilea’s crew, and the rest of the adventurers reconvened and pooled their resources. Ts’uviti decided to play his song about Dolyos’s evil plot, but considering Hodjai’s earlier caution he sanitized the names slightly so as to suggest only poetically what may be going on in Pelmoran lands. It was enough to get the crowds around him thinking without arousing too much suspicion, but the music caught the attention of a man named Den’ire. Sympathetic to some cause, though what specifically was unclear, he offered the party shelter and they shared tales about injustice. Den’ire ran goods for an establishment called Supuko’s Exotic Vegetables and Fruits. He offered to help some of the adventurers get to the capitol, so long as they could pose as workers on his small merchant ship, The Traveling Mermaid. After a good meal and much deliberation, the party split up over three ships: Ser Jahann, Lady Grilea, Kelbur Hant, and Hodjai left at dawn on The Creaking Swindler; Ts’uviti, Sookta, Dyrakos, Ser Runt, posed as deckhands and sailed with The Traveling Mermaid by midday; and Lem’, Ser Rynan, and Ser Donnan took aliases and booked passage on the Empire’s Ferry.


With transportation garnered, the groups departed, each with plans of arrival at separate times throughout the day. The Creaking Swindler was first to arrive, sailing into the Dark Ports of Thrennum just before midday. Hodjai and the adventurers did their best to disguise Lady Grilea as a sick traveler, and her knights as her diseased companions. Captain Djorvelk demanded more money out of the travelers when he noticed that they were sick, but Hodjai managed to haggle the Captain into a compromise, convincing him that they weren’t contagious or any danger to the crew. After the ship’s arrival in the Dark Ports, it was clear to the captain that something was amiss; he ushered the travelers off the ship to make room for an impromptu inspection. Luckily, none of the docksmen or Peacekeepers who were poking their heads around the ship’s dock noticed the adventurers as they slipped away.

There were some close calls, but Hodjai, Kelbur Hant, Ser Jahann, and Lady Grilea made their way from the Dark Ports up the main road toward the Pulnagá quarter and on toward the city center. They managed to ask a few passing citizens for directions to the council grounds. In the city center, a group of Peacekeepers stopped them and demanded to know if they were sick. Hodjai offered that they were looking for a healer within the city, and the patrol motioned to a Peacekeeper escort to take them to Samleri, the Lorosian mystic who looks after the health of the citizens of North End and Central Thrennum. Meeting the next group of Peacekeepers began to feel to the group like more of an arrest than an escort, so Hodjai and Ser Jahann patiently planned for the right time to escape the Peacekeepers; the party wanted nothing to do with these soldiers who, as they’d encountered them before, only seemed to abuse their power, and the adventurers wanted to keep Lady Grilea’s arrival a secret.

Turning toward an alleyway, Hodjai sprayed water on Kelbur Hant, who took his cue, fell to the ground and began to convulse. Their ruse, however, quickly fell out of hand. One of the Peacekeeper escorts, a high-strung and sinewy man, drew his sword and shouted at the convulsing Hant to cease his episode. Ser Jahann could no longer contain his own tension. The Pelmoran knight tossed aside his robe, and screaming out his frustrations, struck the Peacekeeper in the neck with all the force of his pent up rage. This sent the sinewy man into a stumble while his partner–a wide-shouldered Uskelian man–advanced his rusting sword toward the angry Jahann. Only paces away, Kelbur Hant’s convulsion turned into a shaking fear as a rusty blade ground through Ser Jahann’s neck and doused the watered tunic in hot blood.

“What are we going to do now?” screamed Kelbur Hant as the fight unfolded around him. He was so gripped with fear that he was uncertain whether to run or to fight beside his companions. A sinewy Peacekeeper dodged a reluctant attack from Hodjai while the Uskelian shoved Jahann aside and lunged at Kelbur Hant on his way toward Lady Grilea. Hant decided that this was the moment to fight or die, and engaged the wide-shouldered man with his crude dagger. Kelbur Hant stabbed the Uskelian man in the eye, and the Peacekeeper screamed and attacked viscously. Hant’s years in the wilderness proved to be ill-matched to this seasoned warrior. The Ad’Tai took a blow to the shoulder that landed him in the dirt, bleeding out and unconscious. Hodjai struggled as well, taking damage from his opponent but unable to land a solid blow. Hodjai growled and charged his foe, picked him up into the air, and slammed him into the alley dirt. Both Peacekeepers were incapacitated, but alive. Lady Grilea took the opportunity to ensure they didn’t stay that way. She coldly slit their throats with her dagger. The group hid the bodies in the alley, but now they felt as though they needed to go to Samleri’s, because Kelbur Hant’s injuries needed immediate attention.


Meanwhile, The Traveling Mermaid was just pulling into the merchant port, and the disguised adventurers began unloading crates of fruits and vegetables onto the dock carts. A Peacekeeper patrol led by Watcher Yatan boarded the ship and questioned all the workers. The adventurers quickly learned that the city watch were on alert due to the assassination of Councilor Delotho, a known supporter of Dolyos Miren. As such, Lady Grilea and her traveling companions, a group of adventurers from Pike’s Watch, were suspected of having killed the Council member. Rad Boleshin had provided Watcher Yatan with the paperwork listing the names of the adventurers wanted for questioning. And while the names were likely aliases, their descriptions were enough to question traveling groups around the city. Ts’uviti, Sookta, Dyrakos, and Ser Runt managed to endure the questioning and escape any major scrutiny from Watcher Yatan’s group. They even learned that the sick and afflicted of Central Thrennum see Samleri. After unloading the foredeck of goods, Ts’uviti thanked Den’ire and tossed him a few threnns. The Peacekeeper’s game of twenty questions made the group wary of traveling together, and so they split up: Ts’uviti and Dyrakos traveled up the main road, while Sookta and Ser Runt took a parallel route through the Central Thrennum residential district.

As they made their way through the city, the Empire’s Ferry pulled into the Central Thrennum docks, where Lem, Ser Rynan, Ser Donnan, entered their aliases–Alean Kilasnakan, Rokpal of Virrad, and Enorm the Carpenter–into the book of travelers at the dock house. They met a local by the name of Kelell, a kahlnissá who directed them to a popular establishment in the north of Central Thrennum called Marwin’s Clear Bottle. They managed to make their way north along the thoroughfare without incident.

Hodjai and Lady Grilea rushed toward Samleri’s with the failing body of Kelbur Hant. Half sneaking, half breaking the door down, they laid Kelbur Hant on a table before the healer. Samleri is a mystic often employed by the five councils in the Central Thrennum. He has something of a reputation for being stingy about who he helps and for how much, but to meet the man it seems that his only fault is in not having enough time to see to the numerous people who seem intent on procuring his services. His gentle manner helped to put the frantic adventurers at ease, and the assured them that he would do the best he could to ease Kelbur Hant’s pain. The wounds he sustained, however, were very severe, and Samleri was unsure if he would pull through. There was nothing more to be done than leave Kelbur Hant in the healer’s hands and try to reunite with their companions.

The trials faced by each of the adventurers as they traveled through the city as suspects in a councilor’s assassination were difficult to say the least. They felt lucky to be seeing each other on their own terms. They had survived, and made it to Central Thrennum just outside the palace grounds where the outer council convened, but the cost was high. Several of the adventurers were wounded, Kelbur Hant was at death’s door, and Ser Jahann–Lady Grilea’s most trusted right hand–had been killed. The rendezvous at Marwin’s Clear Bottle was bittersweet, and the adventurers were unsure how to proceed.

While they deliberated in the bar, they met a man named Worrick, a central forge worker and urine collector who was a regular patron at Marwin’s Clear Bottle. After speaking with Worrick for some time, they found him to be a genuine man, someone who seemed fed up with the outer council’s abuse of power and someone who could be trusted. He also had the rare privilege of being one of the daily laborers allowed beyond the palace walls each day to collect chamber pots. The adventurers bought Worrick many drinks and conspired with him to sneak a message inside the palace grounds. There was a council member named Chissum who was a friend to Lady Grilea, and he was the only man she could think who would be willing to talk to her given the circumstances of their status in the city. She entrusted Worrick with a message, asking Chissum to meet her at “their favorite restaurant” in the merchant quarter tomorrow at noon. Worrick agreed, and offered the adventurers a place to sleep. Though his home was cramped, it was welcome hospitality.


The next morning the adventurers parted ways with Worrick. He assured them that even though he was not likely to see them again until the evening if at all, he would do his best to deliver Lady Grilea’s message. This promising news was soured when some of the group met with Samleri to check on Kelbur Hant. Sadly, he had died during the night from the severity of his wounds. Their plan was in place, though, so the group moved toward the restaurant and market quarter in northwest Central Thrennum. As the morning grew more busy in the market square, the Pelmoran knights wanted to investigate the area around the restaurant to make sure they could monitor Lady Grilea’s meeting. Each of the adventurers took up positions around the thoroughfare with the restaurant in clear view. Noon soon approached, and then too did Chissum, followed by four elite guards dressed in elaborate armor of the Peacekeeper style. Ser Rynan, Ser Runt, and Ser Donnan were standing with Lady Grilea at the restaurant’s entrance, and the nobles smiled as they approached each other. Just as they were at arm’s reach, four robed figures emerged from the crowd in the market thoroughfare. They tossed back their dark robes as if in formation, revealing their faces, each grotesque in its own way. The noonday sun glimmered on their weapons, each a long ceremonial dagger with a wavy blade. It seemed as if none of the nobles or their guards meeting in front of the restaurant noticed these bladed assassins, but Lem’ and Hodjai gave a shout of warning from across the thoroughfare. It was enough to catch the attention of Chissum’s guards, who turned and drew their blades. Ser Rynan ushered Chissum and Grilea into the restaurant, and Ser Runt and Ser Donnan drew their weapons to block the entrance from any other entry.

What followed was nearly a massacre, certainly one of the most challenging and bloody battles the adventurers had ever seen. The group rushed toward the guards to flank the assassins, but the enemies proved to be more powerful than they had anticipated. The Pelmoran Knights stood their ground and could only watch as the Chissum guards–each one a seasoned warrior–were killed gruesomely by the assassins. Were it not for their sacrifice, the adventurers might not have succeeded. The enemies with their strange curved blades seemed not to bleed like normal foes; they were entranced by their daggers and seemed to be able to draw the blood of their victims into their own necrotic wounds as a form of healing. To the surprise of all the adventurers, their new companion, Dyrakos, stepped forward and slammed his walking stick on the ground. He shouted above the noise of the fray. “You will die this day. Abandon hope to death’s embrace!” Pointing a finger at the assassins, he cursed them. The adventurers felt a rush of adrenaline and a glimmer of hope. Slowly they began to gain ground. Hodjai managed a powerful blow with his great sword that tore one of the assassins in half from shoulder to hip. Oddly, the two parts of this creature still writhed on the ground as if animated by some other force than life. One of the assassins whose skin was so pale it was translucent, seemed unusually powerful compared to his compatriots. The creature took four people in constant attack to bring him down. It rushed toward the restaurant, attacking Ser Donnan, who cried out for help. The assassin and nearly succeeded in killing Ser Donnan, but hearing his cries the adventurers all focused their attack on his assailant. Ser Donnan survived, but the distraction was enough for one of the other assassins–who had the look of a Kimenian corpse–to run toward the restaurant. Ser Runt met him with his masterful blade, but an unlucky step threw him off balance and the Kimenian assassin stabbed the scribbler in the left arm and chest. The Pelmoran knight fell, unconscious and bleeding out.

Dyrakos ran from battle at this point, toward the rear market to find some Peacekeepers to help them. The battle continued on, and seeing Ser Runt fall gave the adventurers a rush of anger that pushed them back into the offensive. The remaining assassins were killed, the final blow when Ts’uviti slashed a dagger across the eyes of the albino. Ts’uviti’s victory was short-lived, however, because he made the hasty decision to pick up one of the ceremonial daggers with his bare hands. Feeling a surge of energy rush into him, he suddenly felt the urge to attack his companions. Hodjai and Lem both tried to tackle the savant, but he proved too nimble for them. Sookta jumped forward and nearly caught his scholarly compatriot, but landed face-first in the dirt of the thoroughfare. Ts’uviti stabbed Sookta in the back with the dagger. He stabbed Sookta a second time, and raised his dagger for a third, but Hodjai gripped the viantu from behind and choked him into unconsciousness. He kicked away the dagger, and the group attended to their wounded. It was then that Dyrakos returned with several Peacekeepers in tow. The reinforcements had arrived, but the battle was now done. Ser Donnan called to Ser Rynan for help with Ser Runt, whose arm was hanging on by naught but a thread of bloodied skin. The thoroughfare in front of the market was a red mess, as if a runaway cart had destroyed a market table of strawberries. Perhaps the image of berries came to mind as Hodjai surveyed the carnage and destruction around the thoroughfare because of the odd, sweet fruity smell that the assassins seemed to emanate.

The Peacekeepers Dyrakos brought sent out for a cart to help remove the dead and transport the wounded to Samleri. When Rynan emerged from the restaurant with the nobles, they said that it seemed clear that Dolyos had followed them. Someone within the council circle had told Dolyos of Chissum’s meeting and sent these creatures to assassinate them. The cries of other citizens around the market began to sound as they saw the wreckage of their market. An oxen-drawn cart came up the thoroughfare, driven by a tough-looking survivalist–a Bosenite with short-cropped hair who wore sleeveless leathers and carried a javelin across her back. She hopped off the cart, along with another elite guard who ordered the nearby Peacekeepers to help Lady Grilea and all the adventurers onto the cart. “The outer council has been notified of what’s happened here, and they’ve sent for Chissum and Lady Grilea,” he said. “They wish to speak to you directly about these assassins and about the killing of Councilor Delotho. Come with us, and you’ll be safe in the palace grounds.” The adventurers welcomed the support and loaded into the wagon. The Peacekeepers assured the group that Lady Grilea would be safest in the palace grounds, and that they would attend to Ser Donnan and Ser Runt presently.


The oxen were tough and surprisingly fast under the reigns of the Bosenite, who the adventurers learned was called Kishsahat. The group rode through the palace gates and onto the council house, a large, circular building with a surprisingly modest entrance. Kishahat and the elite guard, along with four other Peacekeepers, helped the group out of the wagon. The elite guard ordered the four Peacekeepers to the barracks, stating that he could escort the group to the council. Somewhat bewildered, the Peacekeepers followed orders, and the elite guardsman escorted Kishsahat, the adventurers, and the nobles into the council chambers. Inside, the outer council stood deliberating around a long table. They seemed to have no notion of what these adventurers had just endured, and it was clear in the way they addressed the group. “Chissum, what is going on here?” they demanded to know what Lady Grilea was doing facing the council. It seemed as if the council members had no idea why the group stood before them now. The elite guard who had brought the group inside stepped forward and moved toward the council. “I can explain,” he said. It was then that Hodjai noticed an odd, fruit-like sweet smell from the man. “He has the strange smell about him!” the Djenndan warrior proclaimed. The elite guard broke into a run toward the council, drawing a long dagger from his belt. The council members gasped and the adventurers dove to stop the guard. It was Lem who threw a bolo that brought the man to a halt. He fell to the ground, his feet bound by the weighted cord. In a frantic motion, he turned to his back and stabbed himself with the dagger. The council members murmured as the elite guard fell limp. What was going on? The hilt of the dagger glowed red, and as everyone began discussing what was happening at the same time, a familiar growling sound emerged from the palace grounds. Peeking out the council chamber doors, the group saw a large beast that both seemed to resemble Dolyos and the grotesque cadavers they had fought in the Torlish ruins. Peacekeepers ran toward the beast in attack, but the giant creature swept them aside with its over-sized hands. The adventurers watched in horror from the entrance of the council chambers as the monstrous Dolyos swatted a soldier’s head clean off his shoulders. The grotesque beast growled and flexed its arms back, revealing his bare shoulders, embedded in which were the pained faces of the four Peacekeepers that the elite guardsman had ordered to the barracks just after their arrival here. Had he devoured them?

Ts’uviti and the others remembered their trials in the Torlish ruins. Fire was to be their savior today. Thankfully, the scores of Peacekeepers within the palace grounds kept Dolyos busy while the adventurers made fire and began to launch flaming arrows at the beast. Dyrakos, a true pacifist, even found himself so strongly wanting to stop Dolyos’s evil that he rushed in toward the beast, but changed his mind at the last minute and ran back toward the safety of the group, where he began chanting “Fire, fire, fire.” The adventurers kept launching fire at the mutated Dolyos, and it was clear that each time part of his mutated body caught flame that he became more vulnerable. Still, in his mutated form he was just too strong to fall from a few flaming arrows. Nearly twenty Peacekeepers lay torn and broken about the grounds by now. The adventurers knew they needed to launch a more strenuous attack, but they were wounded and vulnerable from nearly losing their lives to the assassins. Dolyos looked as if he was about to charge the council chambers; something needed to be done soon. Sookta and Hodjai told Kishsahat to help them unhitch the oxen from the cart. Kishsahat reluctantly agreed. Hodjai asked Chissum if there was any oil nearby, but all he could think of was the oil in his antechamber that he used to treat his thick, black beard. “That will have to do,” said Hodjai, Chissum led the way. They came back with a small barrel that the fixed to the oxen cart. “Someone better pay me for this,” Kishsahat grumbled as the adventurers rolled the cart forward and Lem and Ts’uviti set it ablaze.

Sookta and Hodjai rushed toward Dolyos sending the cart crashing into him. It burst into a storm of embers that enveloped the grotesque monstrosity with a haze of orange and ash. Soon after Dolyos howled as flames erupted on his tattered robes and hair, and then on his skin. Peacekeepers launched javelin, and the adventurers continued to fire their missile attacks. Charred and bleeding, Dolyos finally succumbed to the onslaught. Overall twenty-seven Peacekeepers lost their lives that afternoon, but the adventurers prevailed. The outer council members, still bewildered would spend the next several days sorting out this mess. The adventurers survived and prevailed, but needed to recover from their wounds both physical and mental. But one truth meant that all their struggle and pain was worthy: They had defeated Dolyos Miren and his treachery.

In the aftermath that followed the epic confrontation with Lord Dolyos Miren, the outer council worked to cover up the actual events from the public eye. They placed the responsibility of the altercation squarely on Lady Grilea’s shoulders, and though Chissum continued to stand up for her, she had a lot of bargaining left to do with the full five councils in order to claim a seat of power in Pelmoran Lands now that Dolyos had been revealed and deposed. She wondered if she should stay in the capitol and entreat her status for Pelmora to the councils, or if she should return to her homeland among the Moghuls of Valadagal and make a more forceful statement of power wherein she would have stronger unified support from her clansmen. As for the adventurers who had saved her and brought her this far, in the capitol currently she only had enough wealth to gift them with 500 threnns to divide among themselves. It was not nearly enough for the sacrifices they had made, but it was all the capital she had. To ensure that they knew she was eternally grateful, Grilea also gave each adventurer a Moghul clan seal. This, she promised, meant that if they were ever to travel to a Moghul enclave in Valadagal, a local clan noble would honor the holder of the seal with lands and titles. This was certainly a splendid gift, should the seals prove to do what she promises.

Ser Runt thankfully recovered, though he lost his left arm from the bicep down. Over the month that followed the battle with Dolyos and his agents, Runt–who decided to go by his given name, Rory Untarr, now–began to reevaluate his life and choices. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he should have pursued the life of a scholar as he had dreamed he would in his youth. He withdrew himself from the Pelmoran Knights with Lady Grilea’s blessing, a rare opportunity as the Pelmoran Knight’s oath is one unto death. But given the circumstances, Lady Grilea honorably discharged him from her service and freed him to pursue his own endeavors. After several conversations with Hodjai, Rory decided that he wanted to head to Vostiar’s Hold to study there, and asked Hodjai to accompany him. Hodjai thought at great length about his friend’s offer, but decided not to leave his adventures behind just yet. But as a token of their friendship, Hodjai gifted Rory with an honor band bearing the sigil of his house, and naming Rory “Urome,” a brother and honorary member of his family. Rory graciously accepted and bid his friends farewell. “Visit me in Vostiar’s Hold, should you ever make your way there,” he said. That was the last the adventurers saw of Rory in Thrennum.

The capitol was as good a place as any for the adventurers to recuperate, but after over a month of the city’s faceless busied hustle, they were growing a bit stir crazy and agreed as a group that they were ready to pursue other endeavors. Over their time in the city each of the adventurers had heard rumors of adventures elsewhere, ransoms, untouched wonders, family honor, and great fortunes. But they decided to head to the Djenndan Protectorate to seek out a relic. Sookta had been given a fragmented parchment that contained writings in ancient Alldedan. The symbols depicted part of the location to the fabled relic of “Tur’dar,” an amulet of such great worth it was once said it could be traded for all the gold in the northern city Cyopolda. But the scholar who read the parchment to Sookta mentioned that it is part of a book that, if found, could be worth more than the amulet itself. The adventurers had their fill of political intrigue, so they decided that pursuing this relic was just the task they needed.


And so our adventurers have survived their first campaign, and are moving onto new things. Sookta, Ts’uviti, Lem, and Hodjai, accompanied by Aurelia (a new player character starting with our next campaign), and their traveling companions Dyrakos and newcomer Kishsahat prepare to leave the capitol to head north in our next session. So join us next time for “The Relic of Tur’dar” as our saga continues!

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Fractalform is the gaming handle of Bret Woods--ethnomediologist, author, and lead developer of Augur's Lore RPGs. Bret is Thing 1 at

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