(Report is the amalgamation of various letters by MacDougal Wyth)
In my short time in the Northwild, I’ve been put in the unique situation to cross the veil between life and the great beyond, to bring someone back from behind that veil about five times. The first to were quick and dirty: the equivalent of emergency medical care for two of Lady Khemstock’s retinue in our arduous journey through Redblades feckin’ terrtitory. Next was General Clague, which was done out of respect and understanding that he really didn’t need to leave this life yet. The last two have been perhaps the more affecting: Saza who has returned all the darker in mood, and Vyentuk. I was tempted to let him lie…to let my friend rest in peace: to be remebered for his heroism. Yet..Marthammor Duin insisted there was more purpose for him.
So I put his body in grass, drank a beer in the pale moonlight, and walked a path for him to return to his body, only to be joined by her highness: The Raven Queen. We talked about Vyentuk: she’s of the impression that there isn’t much to him useful to unless I were involved. I think that’s a cheap way to view a life but she’s a God, so I didn’t say that aloud. Vyentuks return was conditional to our upcoming journey to Bladesmeet:
1. Garrickthur the Barbarian is not to die under any circumstances.
2. The wives of Az Ar Kul, the Grand Tyrant of the Red Hand, is not to die.
3. We are to stay out and not interfere in the fate Rilety, the daughter of Az Ar Kul.
I shortly after saw Marthammor in body for the first time. I was not my most composed. I’m pretty sure I wheeped like a shrieking fangirl. At some point I introduced Brak to Tamara (no relation) and handed the responsibilities of primary pastoral work at Dauntless to Father Bertio. Bad things are coming: my services can be used elsewhere.
Vyentuk, post revival, agreed to help Morrinkrath’s grander plan, with a bunch of conditions (giving him substantial power in the organization, ability to shape the mission to be more noble in character, etc).
How’s bard college?
It is midnight at the camp that formerly belonged to Garrickthur, and my head hurts not from the heapin casks of ale I just aquired, but greater awareness. I had hope to invite you to this decadent place of pleasure. I should have known better what it was in the first place.
We rolled into Garrickthur’s encampment with our Redhand group and suddenly ran into a very particular snag. Garrickthur made a single insistence to Vyentuk that he not go with Morrinkrath and Vyentuk quickly had himself a 180 of heart from being enthusiastic about his future with Morrinkrath to quickly deferring to our larger than life friend. Teyrnon and Morrinkrath had a larger discussion about the ways in which one can change ones mind when I felt the suspicion to investigate. I did some digging..and Garrickthur is not who we believed. He was very much an Illthid; A Mindflayer. Blegh. I slept with that thing. I mean I slept next to that thing. Teyrnon though…
We got some distance from the encampment to begin thinking of a plan. As has been the mood lately, I reached out for assistance. We needed our friend, but we couldn’t just kill the being enslaving an entire encampment of warriors. Per my agreement. I struck a bargain with..uhh..Kord. You ever met Kord? That fucker will put hair on your chest; or the lady like equivalent. He lent us the valkyrie Zoomaria to help incapacitate the Flayer. Saza lent us her new friends…who are skeletons. Ugh.
-We roll back into the camp, and this is where I get really embarrassed: Flint, Teyrnon, and I had been uhh..psionically conditioned to protect Garrickthur. Fortunately, we couldn’t protect him from the Valkyrie who charged through the tent with a spear and began to run off with him.
-Teyrnon got some shots off at Zoomaria before he came to and spent the fight engaging with the similarly conditioned warriors stuck at the encampment.
-Flint and Saza engaged in a recurring game of “Polymoprh the Illithid” and Flint trying to help said Illithid: Saza took advantage of Flint’s newly acquired handicap. Flint eventually captured Garrickthur with a net arrow.
-Brak has become surprisingly calm and collected, largely staying out of the fray and convincing the blood hungry warriors to just chill.
-Once I came to I helped get Vyentuk to his senses.
In the aftermath, we pressured the fucker to let his hold on everyone go. He insisted what he was doing was better for all of them. We briefly tried to explain the concept of “consent” to a FUCKING MINDFLAYER. I swear, sometimes we are shitty at which people we try to talk to. Zoomaria did us the favor of taking our squidfaced friend to another plane of existence. In tribute to her work, we need to slay ourselves a dragon. No pressure, but there’s a whole council of them wanting us dead. Shouldn’t be hard.
I’m going to drink something stronger. I need some sleep.
PS- Flint actually made positive social interactions. He met the Elves of Aeschel’Valan (Galindor and Irindus). They’re recluses to the North. We gave ‘em a copy of the Council of Wyrms letter: they’re open to meeting us to potentially allie with us.
Enclosed is a rough sketch of the road to the Red Hand high command. I can’t articulate the splendor of the glittering path because this glitterin’ path belongs to the oppressed high elf communities of the Northwild, who now serve as slaves to the Red Hand.
Morrinkrath prattles endlessly about etiquette for this event and the joyous history of taking this fortune. It’s fun to throw shade on Elves in my culture, but it sickens me to walk this path. The knowledge to do what’s right colliding with not having the will and power to fix the issue makes me deeply upset.
Please update the big map with this; send a copy to our allies.
To answer your question about Bladesmeet, I got the event list:
Artistic Singles Figure Skating;
Doubles Figure Skating (an emphasis on pattern work);
The Great Hunt;
And Bone Throw Divination.
There is a blood sport to all elements of this. Even curling. More later.
I hate dinner parties, especially the opening dinner for Bladesmeet. Yet…it was not without its charm. We were all dressed to the nines. Saza had herself a coming out party for this new edition of her: I have to say the color black DOES suit her. She made her presence known by engaging with Az Ar Kul’s Shaman. Fun fact: Az Ar Kul is irreligious. I’m not asking for fucking deep belief but for Marthammor’s sake I SPOKE TO THREE FUCKING GODS IN THE SPAN OF A WEEK! HOW CAN YOU…You know my frustration.
Anyway. Saza showed her new appreciation for the Raven Queen by animating the bones on the shaman’s dress. Brak mosied about and made aquaintances with the lone human at the party, Gideon. He learned he has a love for the ale. Teyrnon learned that one of the elder Hobgoblins wants to die spectacularly. I gained some insight into the Az Ar Kul’s first wife: she’s incredibly racist toward us soft skins, and learned one of the mages present has died twice and it has rattled him deeply.
Flint found a big glaring weakness: there is a Bugbear commander who will never be in line to rise up in this meritocracy, because there is presently “no place for the Bugbears” in the Redhand.
You would have enjoyed the dinner. I tried really had to channel your calm here.
Oh, and Asshole Wimp. Asshole Wimp, fka Drigtar of the 99 fists has retired those hands to now be called “Drigtar the Decapitator”..because he has come into having himself a vorpal sword of sorts. And it appears his highest superior is prone to caving to his primadonna whims. Oh what a poser. I can’t wait to watch Gloria kick his ass.
XP: 2,000 EXP for Garrok Thur’s camp (Per Person)
2,000 Session EXP (Per Person)
Loot: A TON of trade goods from Garrickthur’s Encampment.
3,000 GP worth of various trade goods (after a gift to Azarr Kul). In addition to this, there were x3 cure arrows (2d4+4 HP), x2 Rope arrows, x3 Fire Arrows (+1d6 Fire Damage), x3 Lightning Arrows (deals 1d6 lightning damage to all in 5 feet of target hit)