Sunday, 10 December 2017

Carrion Crown, Session 50: Shoulda Taken The Money

Carrion Crown, as told by Inquisitor Victoria van Helm.


Dear Inquisitor Coim,

We took advantage of the rider's pause to catch our breath before squaring off again against the headless rider. The rider gives us one more chance to surrender and give up the mace.

Hecathia and Ronan try to barter with him. He doesn't want Ronan's earthly coin, nor anything that Hecathia can offer him. So she demands to know why they want the mace -- if he tells her, she'll put it down and back off.

He says it's for the will of the Whispering Way, and she agrees that's an answer, putting down the Raven's Head. I pick it up, because she didn't say anything about one of us picking it up again.

The rider tries to charge in, only for his fancy swinging chain to get caught on a gargoyle thanks to Hecathia. It stops him at just the right range for Ronan to step in and bash him with the bag of cash... which, as he remembers, is all blessed gold. He splits the bag and leave the rider bloodied.

I heft the Ravenshead, and beat him with it; it turns out to be an undead-bane +3 mace.

The horse tries to do stuff, but before it can, I bash it with the mace, and Ronan whips out and decimates it with a magic sword -- the demonwolf's sword! It goes down hard.

The horse explodes into smoke, leaving only embers, and the rider has an ungainly dismount, falling onto the ground like a chump.

Hazzard steps in, and the ominous, intimidating headless horseman is poked to death by a kobold riding a pig.

The fight over, we engaged in the traditional pasttime of looting the dead. Hazzard claimed the rider's flaming flail for his own, and Ronan found a skull-shaped amulet -- clearly cursed, and probably bad news for anyone of good alignment.

He had a very nice set of full plate, which Hazzard was very eager to wear... if only it weren't triple his size.

There was also an amulet of natural armor and ring of protection, which Hazzard also snaps up.

We gather our things, and resume our journey to the city on the horizon. About a day out from the city, Lucia and Hecathia notice things -- Lucia spots a red glow coming from Ronan's pouch, and a green smoke trail of sorts coming from myself. Before we can investigate further, we're accosted by a gigantic toad.

We charged in, but the toad grabs Lucia and swallows her whole. Hecathia bails her out with freedom of movement. The toad compensates by grabbing me instead.

The whole time, Hazzard has been stabbing the toad in the side, and he finally gets through, killing it. I'm freed from the frog's mouth, and sluiced off by Ronan.

The red light that Lucia saw is gone, but the green smoke appearently remains. I can't see it, and accuse Hecathia of jealousy.

The gates of Kalathas finally beckon us, and the first thing we do is offload our spare magical goods. I take the money from my sales, and donate 2000GP to the church, along with my logs so far for transport back to you, Coim.

After we're all done shopping, we head to Hecathia's mother's home -- nice place. We meet in the study, and Hecathia sits us down to ask us all an important question: Why are any of us here?

Me: I'm here because when you first met a man named Coim, you gave an answer that indicated you were out to dismantle the Whispering Way, practicioners of necromancy.
Lucia: Because the Whispering Way has been fucking us over since day one! They killed Lorrimor!
Ronan: Because it is my divine mission to purge the world of evil.
Hazzard: I'm here for adventure, and a spot of revenge. I don't know who they are, or what they look like.

Once we're all done affirming why we're here, Hecathia presents us with a document; a long poem, filled with gaps and ominously relevant to parts of our adventure so far.

As we discuss it, I put the Ravenshead on the table gently, as to not dent the table; I'm sure Hecathia's father would not appreciate it. She doesn't care -- such folly to disregard one's parents. Or maybe that's just me.

We plan our next move -- to beat the Whispering Way, we need an organization who's dedicated their lives to beating them -- the Unseen Eye.

We sleep on it, and as we awake the next morning, we hear news: There's been *yet another* murder. Bodies have been showing up all over, drained of fluid... and turning to ash at dawn's light.

Glory to Pharasma,
Vic

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