Session 217: The Orlane Oracle: Shadows, Stones, and Greasy Bread

 Day 4-5 of Sunsebb CY 576

Gather ‘round, you wandering souls and tavern-sitters, for Vilma has seen the weary lot return once more! It was the afternoon of Sunsebb 4, when our local band of brave (or perhaps just lucky) souls faced the crushing weight of fate—specifically, a five foot diameter boulder that came barreling down a staircase. While most of them flew down the stairs like nimble elves to escape, poor Arnd, Armatzi, and Dwerom took a bit of a thumping. But the real tragedy, the one that brings a tear to an old woman’s eye, was the loss of the fishbowl and its resident carp during the chaos.

They’ve brought back more than just bruises, though. Young Armatzi has gone and draped himself in some unidentified black plate mail they found, a suit made for a human frame that he simply couldn't wait to test in battle. The rest of the lot—including that quick-eyed Feno and the ever-watchful Lhoss—spent their time poking and prodding at doors in the Crypt of Mahle Royc. Poor Chiki, that impulsive gnome, went racing down a hallway only to find himself at the bottom of a ten-foot pit. Luckily, it was a dry tumble with no spikes, just a bit of a jar to his dignity.

They didn't come crawling back to the Foamimg Mug Inn until nearly half-past ten at night, well after the kitchen had gone cold. Florin took pity on their haggard faces, though, and served up some complimentary bread with a bit of grease and butter—chicken fat. They didn't linger long in their cups, heading back out into the cold overcast morning by eight o'clock to return to the Barrow Marsh.

The woods are not kind these days. On their way, a glowing phantom was spotted lurking behind a large oak in the Dim Forest, though it vanished before Gnorcia could get a good look at it. They pushed on to a new entrance, a burial mound where a statue of Nerull lies defaced and toppled on its side.

Down in the dark, where the temperature dropped to a bone-chilling 20 degrees, they met a murmuring shade speaking in the black tongue. It was a short-lived haunting, however; between Feno’s holy water, Dwerom’s magic missiles, and the heavy strike of Arnd’s hammer, the creature was sent back to the void. Now they stand in a chamber of sarcophagi and burial alcoves waiting to see what else the darkness holds.

Keep your torches lit and your ears open, Orlane—there are secrets within secrets in those marshes.