The Rise and Fall of Glamorfell

Down the Well, 9 Neth 4710 AR

“Darling, he’s dead,” Sayd said.

In front of him lay a mass of chains, swirling black echoes of the creature that was, now melding into the ashen cloud like sheets of dark mist. Beyond the pile of soot cloaked metal stood Wally, his eyes burned shut by the hot embers. He held a chain in each hand. He had ripped the scion of Droskar apart. Sayd stepped across the pile of chains and embraced his friend.

“You fought like a dragon,” he said, his voice startled with awe. In all his long years he had never seen a more dangerous warrior.

“Well sheeyit,” the mulleted berserker exclaimed. “Tweren’t nuthin.” But the tiefling could see that it was something. Lacerations from the chain and hammer marks covered Wally’s body. Sayd helped him out of the ash cloud, to where Kaede and Teret waited. As the cloud dissipated, the flame mephits skittered back cackling to the forge and entered it. Teret rushed to help the bound child where he lay.

“It took you long enough!” the pudgy Jurin Kreed cried as Teret released his bonds. “I assume my father sent you?” Teret look at the loose flesh hanging on the ingrates cherubic face, at his spiteful eyes, and saw all the aristocratic ponces he had backhanded in the military.

“Who is your father?” he said.

“Kreed,” Sayd replied over his shoulder. “That hatchet faced moron who runs the lumber mill in Hollow.”

“H-hatchet…why you—!” Jurin said.

“Can it, kid,” Teret said. He pulled the portly child to his feet.

“That chain,” Wally said, wiping the soot from his face and taking another pull from his wineskin. “It didn’t feel none to wholesome to me.”

“Indeed,” said Josef. “I believe this creature is what has been called a—”

“Forge scorned,” Kaede finished.

“That’s right,” Josef said with admiration. “The depth of your lore never fails to amaze, Mistress Kaede. This creature was tasked with endless toil, to bind the souls of its victims into a chain for Droskar, in whose unhallowed temple we find ourselves. I can feel the evil of that chain even from here. So many dead.” He paused. “Such tragedy. Tis the chain that holds the soulforce of this creature. Left alone, it may even return to complete its dark work.”

“We best bust it up, then,” Wally said, pushing up off the wall to stand—and then leaning back against it just as suddenly.

“Take your ease,” Teret said, placing a hand on the barbarian’s shoulder. “Josef has proven himself an able hand at kicking in doors. Let he and I give it a go.” And so they did, beating the chain upon the anvil until it broke, then taking up another section and beginning again. Of a sudden the entire length shattered, and Teret watched as ghostly blue wisps poured out of it with a pent up cry, like the sobs of a hundred orphaned children. It faded and the light was gone. Jojo looked across the anvil at him.

“It is done,” he said.

“But what of this?” Teret asked. He hefted a warhammer from a rack in the corner. “Is it not the one that beast swung? I could hardly see it for the smoke.”

“It is the one,” Sayd said. “The very same.” They examined the weapon. It was black as pitch.

“Tis heavy,” Teret offered, swinging it.

“Tis adamantine,” Kaede said. Yukimura chirped his agreement.

“Tis cursed,” Sayd replied jaggedly.

“None of you is wrong,” Josef said. They looked at him. The archaeologist ran a hand through his matted curls. “This is a weapon of great malice,” he continued, haltingly. “And it is adamantine for true. A matter as hard as the deeds that were done with it.”

“Well put,” Teret said, examining the material with more scrutiny. “I have never beheld adamantine, only heard whisper of its legacy. The hardest substance in the world, so sages say.” Then the tiefling’s delicate face was unnervingly over his shoulder.

“This thing will bring us nothing but woe,” Sayd said. “We should break it, ruin it. It’s existence offers grievance to the gods.”

“You say everything offends the gods,” Yelenya offered breezily. “Did you not say such of the silver daggers that saved our lives?” She was kneeling over Wally.

“Tis true,” Sayd admitted. “How is he?”

“He is sleeping,” she said, “no doubt put under the waves by your weighty arguments.” She brushed his forehead with a washcloth. Teret tucked the warhammer into his kit. Best to deal with it later.

They returned to the well room, though Yelenya tarried to examine a stone crevice too small for a human that disappeared like a tunnel straight down through the rock. Kimi Eaveswalker watched her from behind a natural pillar, then rushed to comfort Wally. Teret and Sayd carried the warrior between them and lay him down in one corner of the well room.

They examined the pit. A ten foot by ten foot wooden platform swung from a rope in its center, supported by a system of pulleys. Teret peered down into the dark, cursing his lack of darkvision. Anything could be down there. He looked over his shoulder to where Sayd, translated into draconic by Kaede, was grandiosly harassing the coward kobold, Keddremak. He listened as Kaede translated his responses, his details about what lay below. The halfling was challenging Sayd now, disgusted with his promises to the kobold. Kimi was getting restless.

“Enough,” Teret finally said. “There is one more child below, is there not?”

“Aye,” the halfling said. “What is your plan?”

“Plunge forward into darkness,” Sayd said, leaping onto the wooden platform. “And see what happens.”

“Why am I not thirlled with this plan?” Yelenya said, joining him. Teret moved to stand beside them on the platform, but Kaede stopped him.

“It is trapped,” she said. “Or shoddily made. So the kobold says. Regardless, it will not bear all our weight together.” She stepped onto the lift and Josef began to lower it.

“Why am I not in the van?” Teret said.

“We can see in the dark,” Sayd and Yelenya said in unison, annoyingly. The tiefling winked up at him.

“She can’t,” Teret said, pointing at Kaede. The elf smiled her soft, mysterious smile.

“I have my ways,” she said. A moment later and thirty feet below, the lift touched the ground and Kaede’s dancing lights shot down into the well after her.

As they lit up the room below, the three saw two hardy kobolds in chain mail and helms riding obscene, saber-toothed frog like creatures coated in a repulsive ichor wheel about, shocked. They’d been expecting comrades. Sayd stepped off the platform with his spear in one hand and a dark fire in the other.

“I am Sayd Krynn of Kaer Maga,” he smiled. “And you two are about to—”

He was interrupted as the slurk closest to him blurted out a massive gobby stream of disgusting slime that covered him head to toe like buckets full of mud, leaving nothing uncoated.

“—make me look like a fucking asshole,” he finished, the words bubbling out from where his mouth probably was. “Gross.”

“Ewwwww,” Yelenya said.

Kaede wasted no time, leaping between the two mounted warriors as Josef hustled to pull the lift back up. She struck with her double chain kama and deftly dodged their attacks as Yelenya loosed arrows. One of the slurks charged the dhampir and bit into her hard. Kaede’s head jerked in that direction in time to see the sultry stalker hit the floor, unconscious. A moment later, the giant blob that was Sayd scuttled back to back with her.

“Defenfive maneuverf!” the blob cried. “Thif ftuff is hard to moof iff!”

“Foolish roundeye!” Yukimura chirped in Tien, drawing a scolding glare from Kaede. The elf parried a short sword thrust with the flat of her hand then swung around with her double chain kama to entwine a spear thrust meant for Sayd from the other side. As she did, she kicked up a cloud of dust behind her with one foot, thwarting the slurk that tried to pounce on her unguarded flank. She leapt up as a spear went underfoot and swung her kama around again, slicing a rider. Sayd meanwhile somehow had to composure to use the hardened ichor to block the paws and teeth of the slurk who encroached on him.

Then the platform banged down again and Teret and Josef leaped into the fray.

“What the hell happened to you?” Teret said to Sayd, incredulous.

“Noffing ferioff,” Sayd replied. “Minor inconvenienff.”

In spite of everything, Teret had to laugh. “Let me help,” he said. He grabbed into the hardened goo and tried to pull it away, but the stuff wouldn’t budge. “What the hell is this shit?” he said.


The nearer slurk, apparently thinking Teret presented a better target, moved against him and was immediately rebuffed by a flurry of whirling steel. He cut into the slurk just as Sayd, who was somehow half-wielding his spear from inside the slimy cocoon, stabbed the kobold rider in the back.

“Well struck!” Teret said.

“Fankff!” Sayd replied.

[Editors note: this is when I had a cigarette break and missed the big finish, so we’ll imagine a few details.]

The distraction gave Teret a chance to leap, Achilles like, to the side and plunge his sword through the kobold’s armor at the shoulder. It screeched in pain and wailed in draconic. As it turned to flee it caught a shuriken to the throat from Kaede and slumped in its seat, held in place by ichor. The elf whirled back and, leaping over the upturned mouth of the slurk, caught the other kobold warrior’s head between her thighs. She cracked his neck with a smooth twist and a disgusting popping sound and sat momentarily perched upon his shoulders before twirling off and landing on the stone floor as softly as a falling petal.

“Impressive,” Josef said. They all heard a thunderous crack and looked to see the slime shell come crashing off Sayd as he stood flexing his arms underneath.

“What happened?” the tiefling said.

“We won,” said Kaede simply, and went immediately to kneel at Yelenya’s side. The dhampir was unconscious and very badly injured. “We should stop,” she said. “Rest.”

“Lay her out beside Wally,” Sayd said, brushing some remaining crumbs and tangles from his hair. “We still have a child to save.”

“Agreed,” said Teret.

They took some time to move Yelenya up the lift, then some more time for Josef to re-jigger the mechanism to hold more weight. Sayd, Teret and Kimi were lingering below when Sayd heard a rasping coming from a nearby room. He cautiously looked in and saw an abberation—tall, spindly, with tentacled fingers and an alien visage—gasping for breath in the corner. A spear was stuck in its shoulder.

“Can you understand me?” he tried in the common tongue, but the creature did not answer.

Teret approached it. The creature recoiled from him, wheezing. The young warrior knelt in front of it and pulled the spear from its shoulder. He looked at the substance on the spear tip. “Poison,” he said.

“Kill it!” Kimi demanded.

“Shush, girl,” Sayd said as Teret actually dug into his pack and applied a poultice to the wound. “Do not judge a tome by its cover.” He wandered back to look up the well and see how things were progressing.

“Why is Ser Teret helping that thing?” Kimi asked, following.

Sayd looked up the well to where Josef was working. “Because he is a just man,” the tiefling replied. He looked down into her eyes. “All we really have, Kimi Eaveswalker, is who we are,” he said.

She thought about it. “Why does everyone say you’re a bad man?” she said. He laughed, and walked back to watch Teret and the choker through the doorframe.

After he didn’t answer for a while, she crept back to his side. “Wally said you fought the Stag Lord before, once. He said he killed your friends and threw you into a canyon. Left you for dead.”

“Wally says a lot of things,” the tiefling replied absently.

She balled her fist up. “You know when my dad comes back, he’s not going to like you being with my mom,” she said. He looked at her then, his irises softly alight with green fire, for so long that it became unnerving and she looked away. Frustrated, she looked right back to find his gaze unaltered. “Say something!” she finally yelled. Teret came rushing back to the doorway at the sound.

“You poor girl,” Sayd finally said, and turned away.

The platform hit bottom again, this time bearing Silverwind. Teret went to attend to the horse. Soon his saddle and kit and gear followed, along with Kaede and Josef. They sent Kimi back up on the platform.

“Take care of Wally and Yelenya,” Kaede urged her.

“And try not to do anything foolish,” Teret added. Keddremak conferred with them. The main passage forward, where the slurks had retreated, was designed for ambush. The side passage to the east led to the mines, where Lekmek the Cruel lorded over an army of slave miners.

“Lekmek the Cruel is horrid and terrible! We should slay him at once!” Keddremak entreated.

Kaede went first, keeping her elven eyes sharp for traps. They heard the sound of mining coming from ahead, picks chipping away at stone. Presently they came into an open mine chamber where half a dozen slaves worked. Lekmek the Cruel stood above them all, a kobold with massive upper body strength but hilariously tiny chicken legs. He gripped a lash in one hand and a massive pick in the other.

He yelled something in draconic, probably intruders, kill them! or the like. “Kill him first,” Teret said, “and the rest will stop fighting.” Lekmek had other plans, though. A seasoned fighter himself, he easily dodged Kaede’s opening flurry of double chain kama strikes. Sayd charged forward and hurled his spear at Lekmek, but his aim erred by only a slight fraction and the kobold twisted, causing the spearhead to open a paper thin slit on his cheek but otherwise fly by. Teret hefted Glintaxe but in a stroke of ill fortune lost his grip on the weapon just as he went to swing, dropping it. Lekmek struck back hard with his pick, hacking into Kaede and wounding her badly. Before they could surround the overseer, they were themselves cut off by the horde of frenzied workers, so driven by their fear of Lekmek that they put no price on their own lives. Sayd tried to unleash his demonic magicks on the crowd but was tackled while doing so, ruining the spell.

Injured, Kaede drew back to heal while also striking down some of the slaves with her quick kicks and swinging kama. Sayd clawed one of the slaves, then hit it with the full weight of his greataxe and shattered the creature. Teret, drawing his sword, fended off attackers from both sides. They held the line. Josef healed Kaede and then stepped forward to shoot a precise bowshot through traffic that pierced Lekmek’s armor and caused him to give out a yelp. Seizing the opportunity, Kaede shadowstepped between two of the workers. Her eyes glowed with eldritch blue light and her hand seemed to produce an afterimage as she reached out and ripped the massive fire forged pick from Lekmek’s grasp with a twist. The move was so quick that Sayd could scarcely beleive it. The enraged overseer dove after her but was kicked hard for his troubles. Of a sudden, Kimi Eaveswalker emerged from behind the kobold line to shoot Lekmek in the back with a heavy crossbow bolt. Teret, breaking away from his attacker, used the opening to stab the open overseer hard. Lekmek turned on his tiny chicken legs to flee, but Teret hacked one of them off, then stepped over the still cursing overseer’s form and drove his sword home through his chest. The remaining slaves stopped fighting.

“How did you get down here, Kimi?” Teret asked.

“There’s a tunnel back there, going to the forge room. Yelenya found it, before she got hurt,” she said, breathless. “It led to this cave. There was a huge bat in there. It chased me!”

“You have to be more careful, Kimi,” Kaede said.

“Not good enough,” Sayd said. “When you do things like this, you put everyone at risk. We’re here, in some temple in the middle of nowhere, because you put all your friends at risk, leading them on this harebrained quest. It ends now. Are we clear?”

Her face turned red. “I was just trying to—”

Sayd’s tone softened. “Kimi, I do this for a living, ok? We do this for a living. If you want to help, you need to let us do our jobs.”

“I guess I can,” she said.

“Thank you,” the tiefling said. “These other kids need you to stay by their side.”

He switched gears, gesturing to the slaves. “Bring them up to speed, Keddremak,” he said. Kaede translated. They took stock of the situation. Wally and Yelenya were down. Teret and Kaede had some injuries. Sayd and Josef were out of power. They made the very hard decision to head back upstairs and camp.

“Where our demonic friend fears to tread, we would be wise to show caution,” Kaede said, echoing what they all felt. Sayd had not wanted to stop for anything. Even he admitted, though, that getting to the child before he was sacrificed would be meaningless if they all died in the process.

They slept in the ruined fane where Teret had boldly faced down the skeleton army only hours before. Sayd, Kaede and Keddremak spent several hours discussing Keddremak’s role in what was to come, the importance of letting the fued with the Sootscales die, and so on. In the morning, Keddremak proved useful by casting spells that healed Yelenya. Wally remained too tired to do much more than drink water and eat, with Kimi constantly watching over him. At one point Teret overheard Kaede and Josef discussing the barbarian in hushed tones, saying that the foul magic of the chain whip must have somehow made him ill, or perhaps the act of tearing apart that monstrosity with his bare hands.

“More like bear hands,” Teret laughed to himself. After a coarse meal, though, they were right back into the shit.

Yelenya led the way this time, sneaking along the next corridor and watching for traps. It wasn’t long before she found one, a ten foot long pit trap covered with a thin scree of debris. The tunnel was tight here.

“They say the gods hate a coward,” Sayd said, leaping over the area of the pit. Yelenya followed after him, putting a pile of stones to mark the pitfall’s edge. Sayd stepped forward. In the dark he saw two slurks in a room full of slurk cages, just as Keddremak had told them. Astride one of them was a mighty and gnarled kobold girded in armor and wielding a battleaxe.

“That would be Kathkep, the slurk master,” Yelenya whispered. “Oh never mind,” she said in a normal tone. “They see us.”

Kathkep, stuck to his mount by ichor, reared back and snarled in draconic. Sayd moved like lightning, taking one big stride out of narrow tunnel passage and then sliding across the greasy slime coating the floor like a dancer on a sheet of ice, his tail whipping behind him. A fifteen foot cone of black smoke and clashing red and black lightning erupted from his outstretched hand, blasting over the slurks and their master. The two slurks collapsed immediately, leaving Kathkep stuck on top of one of them with a look of fury on his curled back features.

“Oh hey,” the tiefling said, smiling. Yelenya followed after, loosing arrows, but Kathkep was a battle hardened veteran and dodged them adroitly as he unseated himself. Dropping his axe, he pulled out a bow, but his aim fared no better. Back in the tunnel, Josef pushed himself to the side. In his armor, jumping the pit was an uncertainty at best. Kaede leapt across it with a monk’s grace, though, and cursed their opponent with one of her witch hexes as Sayd advanced on him with his spear and Yelenya continued shooting.

Josef heard Silverwind coming around the bend before he saw him. He pushed himself back against the stones as Teret, astride the charger, came around the bend in the narrow tunnel, hunched, and leapt across the ten foot span of the pit without a second thought. The trap gave way as he did, adding to the spectacle and the drama. Charging out into the room, he backed Kathkep into a corner. He caught a lance from Teret, a claw from Sayd, strikes from Kaede, arrows from Yelenya. He could only hold them off for so long before going down. Silverwind finished the job with a hoof to the prone kobold’s head. They looked around. Before them lay a staircase headed north, up out of the inches thick floor slime. They knew what lay beyond. Keddremak caught up.

“Beyond lies the throne of Merlokep, first of his name,” the kobold said.

“And last of his name,” Sayd replied. “Come.”



Yelenya slipped through the darkened room and avoided stepping on anyone as she crept over to where Sayd was sleeping. After the midnight disturbance Teret had recommended that everyone get as much more rest as they could before they left at dawn. A difficult sleeper by nature, Yelenya had volunteered for watch duty in the anteroom. She carefully pulled Sayd’s journal and a pen out of his pack. Time passed slowly for her, and she might as well make use of it. She settled in to write facing the doorway._

Little one, I do regret that we did not have time to talk, and while I doubt that you will come back here there is a chance so I will take it. I am a firm believer in the 3rd option, you see. We all walk different paths, they may converge for a bit but each path is uniquely our own, footprints are the history of those who have walked a part of our path before, but no one but you will, can, or should, walk your path for you. All that said, you can, if you look hard enough, see others on their path as they walk it. I do so for my own curiosity as I travel with those around me. The elf, I am sorry to say, faces the very real possibility of losing the way she was when she joined me (she’ll probably not thank me later), the soldier is beginning to see that his path is not the one he thought he was on after abandoning a different one, the half elf seems to be finding both his footing and that no one cares who he is or what he is (just that he can do his job). But for us monsters… Sayd is finding his path lonely, he would like nothing more that to be sitting in a throne of bone, with a slave or two for his amusement and debauchery, and an apprentice or two to pass on his knowledge. I wish him a cottage in the sun, with fields and laughter. And a farmers daughter or two. Oh how he would hate it. Even after so long he considers himself a monster, I guess I failed in teaching him better. Whoops. Wally has become a goddess send, even when I am annoyed by him I enjoy his presence. The fangs and claws of course make him all the more interesting. He is one you should be wary of. He has been a wolf in sheep’s clothing longer that you have dear girl. His path is far more interesting than most, he walks a razor’s edge. Me? I do not walk a razor’s edge, most of my kind sprint it, and I have more style than that. I dance on the razors edge. I am not certain of my path, but I am certain of my destination. You spoke with Teret about religion, later I told him to have faith. Poor confused boy. Some are chosen by the gods, a friend of mine is one of those, and I hold her dear. Others choose which god they follow, what feels right to them, or none at all. I commissioned a shrine to be built before we last left Oleg’s and I have yet to see it, to plant flowers there. The shrine is to Shelyn, the goddess of love and beauty, the goddess of art. I do not speak of my beliefs to many, and I explain myself to fewer. You seem to need an anchor, so I will tell you of my path and perhaps that will help. I am certain that it will scare whoever else reads this. I see beauty in the things that others do not, what else can I do, and while others might create a great song or poem or book these forms of art elude me. I am, at best, a mediocre dancer and I cannot speak loud enough to sing, but my art, that I am born for. I stand at the edge of madness and look into the depths, most of my kind are down there asking me to join them. It would be too easy, effortless. I chose a different path. I see myself grown and standing tall as I walk through my garden. Here and there are roses, none would attract much attention but to me they are all perfect. Surrounded by thorns in the dark as I approach a table. On the table a candle, guttering in the still air. A being sits and watches my approach. That is the end of my path little flower. I tend a garden as best I may that is filled with flowers no one would cast gaze upon if there were no reason to. I do what I can to feed them, make them strong, but in the end they have only themselves and their paths. And sometimes, not often, but sometimes, the garden needs to be cleaned up and the plants pruned so that what remains may grow stronger. I encourage you to grow little rose. Choose a path and walk it, but do not be afraid to choose another path. Only fools believe in certainty… and maybe the faithful. I am smiling as i write this, I have such hope for you. It’s getting early, I need to get ready for tomorrow. By happy coincidence I am terribly Thirsty.


She carefully folded the letter and drew her new silver dagger. There was a little red spot on it that she licked off and gently pricked her finger, a drop of blood on the corner of the letter would make it more likely the girl would notice it. She sheathed the dagger and began inspecting her arrows by touch, her eyes never leaving the door. She was sad that the poor girl had had rough time of it, but people choose what to do. And if she chose poorly… well… her blood would taste as good as any others. And things would grow.

Sayd to Lullabye Jack


I’m sending this care of my man Grennel Norwick. I hope you are doing well. I know the loss of your leg must weigh on you, but strap a peg-leg on and get on a boat for the River Kingdoms as soon as you can. My new crew (The Black Cats) is closing in on the Stag Lord. We will have vengeance for our dead friends. Make for Oleg’s outpost. I have enclosed a map.

There is a kobold there named Mikmek who can get you situated. No one will bat an eye at a firearm toting, peg-legged goblin if you say you are with Sayd Krynn and Yelenya, I can assure you. I have, as they say, influence.


Sayd to Grennel Noriwck

I’m most pleased with your progress, Grennel. I knew I could count on you. Here’s what I need right now:

1. I want followers of Erastil, be they martial warriors or priests, to come to the Gnarlmarch in force. To whit, I have enclosed an advertisement poster that I would like you to reproduce and distribute. The poster includes drawings of both an abandoned temple of Erastil as well as a huge statue of him. I drew both having visited the sites personally. It implores the faithful to join with the Black Cats in reclaiming and colonizing these sites.

2. I have enclosed a complete description of The Black Cats recent exploits which in particular paints me as a peerless hero and future legend. The account is actually not far from the truth. Make sure it reaches Jamandi Aldori’s eyes.

3. I require a researcher or diviner with knowledge of the First World. Specifically I need to know about a fey monarch called The Queen of Whispers and one of her subjects referred to as the Duchess of Hoarfrost. Let me know what resources you need to make this happen.

Beyond that, please continue to aid me as seems worthwhile. I trust your judgment. My goal is not necessarily to subvert Jamandi Aldori but rather to woo her to both my cause and my person.


Sayd's Diary, 2 Neth 4710 YK

Things started off simply enough, but are all muddled now. Our mission was straightforward: map the land, take out the Stag Lord. But none of us have ever been on this kind of undertaking before. As a mercenary captain I was used to jobs that took days or weeks: guard this, recover that, clear out the brigands at the old fort. We’re coming up on a year since we set out. I’ve traveled with my companions through fire and flood, absent the luxuries of urban life I was so attached to, and for better or worse I am changed. There are no wine-soaked taverns, no masquerade balls, no wenches, no aristocrat’s daughters and no street people out here on the endless rolling plains of grass and stone, in the grimy lit wood, under the arc of sky. We walk the wilds, where love doesn’t reach. We have seen it, seen the gods in the trees, and they have seen us.

We are marked for glory and for ruin. We have ante’d into the game of seasons, we have cast dice with chaos, as Mikhail once did. The Queen approaches. I feel the earth quickening, crying out for its lord.

I have seen our journey change them. It turned Teret from a blushing swordsman into a hardened charger, one who beds half-orc maidens and crushes skulls from atop his war-steed. It brought us Wally, a whirling engine of death, a thresher, from the body of a bumpkin. I saw Kaede change from a quiet warrior into a whirling witch whose knowledge and lore are as broad as the smile she blesses to the children of the woods. Only Yelenya, gypsie Yelena, whose home is everywhere and nowhere, seems to me the same person who we set out with.

And me. It was not so long ago that I would but laugh in the face of death, and dare it to strike harder. I cared only for making love, for bringing ruin, for drinking the world to the lees.

Now I would do anything to rescue a group of children I hardly know, these kids of Hollow. Or to rescue Lyla. Why am I fighting the fey? I should be joining them. And yet I can’t. I sit here writing this, knowing that I will give my life to rescue a little girl who can’t be rescued, who is already gone. Why?


Possible new Yelenya pic.

She wrapped the neck guard with the intent that when she had access to the blacksmith shop she’d change the design as she perused the horses for sale. They looked good, but the prices were pretty high at the moment. Oleg’s might have a better selection. Yelenya was irritated that she had to buy another winter blanket, hers was with their stuff at the trading post. She wanted to get back there for a while. She could use a decent bath instead of using whatever stream presented itself. At least they had decent enough clothes for sale here. She had settled on a grey pair of pants and a rather drab long sleeve shirt, both in fine spun wool and fairly comfortable without being itchy. The pants fit reasonably well but after pulling the shirt on it was a little too awkward beneath the armor, a problem solved by wrapping some strips of cloth to make it as snug against her torso as possible without any seams to create uncomfortable spots. Her studded leathers went on over the clothes, itself getting a nice faded color to it, belt over that, and finally her grey-green cloak. She had ordered some new arrows with cold iron heads which should help against the critters abounding the forest, and wrapped some of the silver wire just behind the heads. Couldn’t hurt, her motto since they had gotten to these lands. The bee queen could be a usefull ally in the future, although she’d have to attend to that mite sooner rather than later. The red kobolds too, but that could wait until another day. The biggest issue that she had at the moment was Tenzy. Dear Tenzy had made an error. She had little issue with doing things that most people found morally objectionable, but enslaving a sentient creature was not one of them. She decided that however the problem would be solved he’d have to take an active hand in it. His choice, he could try to take her by force or find another way, and she wouldn’t help. She looked around as she got ready and watched the others, she had been listening to their conversations and would replay them in her head as they traveled, and it looked like they were ready to go. She sighed, protecting people was counterproductive in the end but perhaps this would create a rare “teachable moment” that might be heeded.

Dreams within Dreams.
"or what Yelenya has been up to."

It was good to see her companions again, even if she knew that Sayd was going to badger her with questions. The elf might too, but she would likely be more discrete about it. The forest called out to her, like a flame to a moth. She hated the way it felt in there. Sayd was less likely to feel it, and she doubted that the humans or even the elf were aware of just how alive the woods they wandered were. The low voice of life, so pervasive, had filled her mind. She was pretty sure that she had cleaned up thoroughly. For one of the few times in her life she was happy that she had lost her marbles, even if it was temporary. She sat quietly in the grass and watched them for a few minutes, unable to decide if it was a good time to return. She remembered everything that she had done since she had last seen them, and while it didn’t cause her any guilt, they might not see it the same way. She hadn’t killed anybody, not really, but she had killed a few animals… ok, maybe more than a few… and the blood drinking thing probably hadn’t helped her make any friends. She felt better now, it had been years since her last little blowout, 4 dead incidentally, and while her stomach felt a bit queezy, drinking a few gallons of blood that you couldn’t absorb or digest would do that, she mentally felt better than she had since setting foot in that forest. She sighed and tugged at a tuft of grass as she watched the party walk around. Well, no point in putting it off. She remembered the taste of the blood, and the fear, and the sweet smell of death. Yelenya smiled as she slipped into the shadows and made her way down to the party.

Sentinel of the Skies
The Wisdom of Yukimura

High above the ground, hidden in the canopy of trees, Yukimura fluttered silently from branch to branch.

It took some doing, but Yukimura finally had convinced his master that he was “no fledgling to be coddled”, was “tired of hiding inside a hot, smelly animal skin”, was not a “flying man-torch”, and that he had no intention of “sitting around waiting to be scooped up like a fat, lazy grub”, along with some other bird-themed idioms that don’t quite translate.

So here he was, acting as forward scout. Below, a frog-man crouched behind a wall, with his tusked pets nearby. Hidden to those on the ground, Yukimura thought to himself, but not to the keen eyes of this bird. He took to the air, heading back to the group, and hoped that he had not betrayed a feeling of triumph through the empathic link. No sense spoiling the surprise.

In the quiet of the night, Kaede sat cross-legged in front of the campfire, poring over a book with burn-marks on it. Yukimura hopped over to her and spoke, “This thing again, girl?”

Without looking up, Kaede replied, “Master, I think that I can almost understand it. The writing is similar to the scrolls that I received from the Society, I may be able to do something with it. I just need a focus of some kind, and a little more time”. She sighed, “I wish Aduialon were still here; he’d be able to help.”

Yukimura twittered in an annoyed way, “Pah. Your patron provides you whatever you require, through me”. Nonetheless, he fluttered up to Kaede’s shoulder, and gazed intently at the wording in the tattered spellbook.

Curious Village of Hollow
Kaede's letter to Emiko Lin

To Emiko Lin:

Greetings, Honored One—

Our investigation of the Narlmarch forest continues apace. There are many things worth reporting, but most interesting of them all is the curious village of Hollow.

The residents of the village follow something that they call the “Old Way”; some sort of remnant of an ancient agreement that a mortal named Mikhail the Woodcutter made with the forest. They are reclusive, isolated, sullen, and superstitious to the point of absurdity — I cannot take anything that they say at face value. Any investigation by the Way is going to require a strong knowledge of local lore, in order to properly interpret what the people of Hollow believe.

The area itself is strongly magical; metal items held within the Narlmarch will quickly rust and degrade. Fey stones or linseed oil act as a (temporary) countermeasure. Hollow itself appears to be immune to this effect, at least within the confines of the ring of scarecrows that surround the village. There are other such wardings in the village, including one that protects against encroachment of wild animals, but as evidenced by the wolf pack assault the eve of our first night’s visit, the protection is either imperfect or otherwise compromised by the events gripping the area.

My companions were able to overcome the horrors of the Hollow Man and the Singing Tree while I was absent on a scouting mission, which appears to have given the people of Hollow some measure of respite for now. Just the same, as outsiders, we were asked to leave, and return no more than once a season, unless we intend to join their community.

Before we moved on, they bade us to keep silent about the existence and location of their village. I was noncommittal, naturally; the aims of the Way shall not be denied.

We leave to explore the rest of the Narlmarch.

As always, I am your faithful servant,


Sayd's Diary, 10 Erastus

Wake up and dream. I stir in the sheets, waiting for the knock knock knock of the Hollow Man. Anna lays beside me, asleep in pure contentment. She has not had a man in years. I flex my fingers in front of me, watch as the tapered black nails grow and harden into talons, then recede to their original form. I pick up my diary and write these words. The room is nearly black but for a sliver of moonlight sneaking in from the shuttered window. This does not trouble me.

We sent Teret and Kaede out to scout and they have not returned yet. I worry for them. We have truly bonded, in the way that companions do. I would risk any danger on their behalf. It is a security, and a pitfall, that only fighting men know.

I should be more honest here. At first I had planned this diary to accidentally fall into the hands of the bards, that my legend might grow. Lying next to Anna, letting someone in, even just a little, makes that seem a paltry reason for falsehoods.

Arryn Ashe. There is a name I have not uttered or put to print in decades. We keep things secret sometimes to protect them from the world around us. We lived like royalty once, my governess and I, playing hide and seek in gardens so vibrant and real, I can still taste the honeyed air. Later we held court in alleyways, plotting vengeance—but how can you revenge yourself against blind fate?

The only truth worth knowing is this: there is a wall, in this life or the next, that towers above me, and I, with naught but my pride, throw myself at it so long as I breathe, and it will break before I do.


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