Welcome to Session 2 of “Wielda’s Call”. Due to the recent events where Iskade was full to the gills, I decided that she was not in control of this first Scene. She did manage to rescue the young noble but rule-wise … aaaaah … that was more more luck than judgement. So I think raising the Chaos Factor to 6 isn’t more than fair.
She also missed the chance to check on the noble to see whether he was ok or not and just tottered along. On the other hand, she isn’t Saint Iskade and doesn’t really care about what happens next.
DISCLAIMER: Be aware that my style of roleplaying is not always fun and flower-picking. Though I don’t like overly gory descriptions in roleplaying games, I like the dark themes and dismal topics from the bottom of my heart. Please consider this post M rated and not always for the fait of heart.
An unexpected reunion
Scene 2 (altered: harm, legal), Chaos Factor 6
Several days hence, you meander through the familiar contours of the town’s marketplace. The cadence of commerce persists, but subtle shifts mark the passage of time. Merchants beckon with the same vigor, yet their stalls bear the ebb and flow of supply and demand. The symphony of scents and vibrant hues remains, a testament to the enduring pulse of daily life within the bustling heart of the marketplace. With a deliberate purpose, you engage in the transaction that secures the last missing pieces of your gear. The marketplace vendors, their stalls laden with implements of exploration, bear witness to the exchange.
The clink of coins and the murmur of barter weave a symphony as the final acquisitions find their way into your possession. Each piece, an essential puzzle to navigate the enigmatic depths of Davokar, is now secured. The weight of the newfound equipment, both tangible and symbolic, resonates with the gravity of the impending venture into the mysterious expanse beyond Thistle Hold’s gates.
As you traverse the worn cobblestone paths leading to Thistle Hold’s gate, a vigilant guardian intercepts your journey. Halting your advance with a raised hand, the guard’s discerning eyes fix upon you. “Nay passage allowed lacking a true and valid explorer’s license.“. The air thickens with the weight of authority, demanding proof before granting passage into the heart of Davorkar.
A voice unfurls behind you, a subtle murmur that dances upon the edges of perception. “Verily, I am content to offer remuneration for the impending license fee.” Upon a silent pivot, your gaze is drawn to the sound of approaching steps. There stands the young noble, countenance adorned with the aftermath of recent strife—a chiaroscuro of bruises etched upon his features. Despite the visual testimony of past struggles, a stoic resolve emanates from his eyes, unfazed by the physical remnants of conflict. A lingering limp in his gait speaks to the residual echoes of the ordeal, yet the noble figure, though marked, stands resilient, a testament to an enduring spirit amidst the shadows of adversity.
“I extend my deepest gratitude once more for the salvation thou hast bestowed upon me. The payment of a year’s worth of license fees is but the least I could undertake in an earnest attempt to repay thee.” the young noble says.
With resolute determination, you set forth on the quest to obtain an explorer’s license, an indispensable talisman for traversing the unknown realms beyond Thistle Hold. Navigating the bureaucratic intricacies of the town’s authorities, you engage in a measured exchange of coin and formalities, securing the coveted parchment that grants passage into the sanctioned territories.
Armed now with the official imprimatur of exploration, you turn your gaze northward, departing from the bustling embrace of Thistle Hold. As the city’s hum fades into the background, the whispering winds usher you towards the uncharted wilds of Davokar—an expanse draped in mystery, awaiting the imprint of your footsteps upon its untamed canvas.
As the sun descends and the echoes of a day’s journey linger in the air, you find yourself standing before the time-worn facade of a ruined monastery, a place well-known to many, yet veiled in the allure of untold secrets. Despite its familiarity, an insatiable curiosity tugs at your resolve, compelling you to explore the hallowed remnants within.
The crumbling walls bear the weight of forgotten prayers, and the entrance, though weathered, beckons as a portal to hidden revelations. With each step, the crunch of gravel beneath your boots reverberates in tandem with the whispers of a bygone era. The air, thick with the scent of ancient stone and the mystique of centuries past, envelopes you in an ethereal embrace.
As you stand at the threshold, the decision to delve into the unknown beckons. For, in the quiet recesses of the dilapidated sanctuary, there may linger secrets yet undiscovered, waiting to be unearthed by the intrepid soul who dares to seek amidst the vestiges of time.
With the encroaching dusk casting shadows upon the timeworn monastery, wisdom guides your decision to make camp at its entrance. The fading light paints the ancient stones in hues of amber and shadows, prompting the acknowledgment that venturing into the enigmatic depths under the cloak of night may be unwise.
As you unfurl your shelter against the backdrop of the silent ruins, the whispering winds carry tales of centuries past. A humble campfire flickers to life, warding off the encroaching darkness. The decision to postpone the exploration until the morrow is made with a seasoned intuition, recognizing that the sanctuary’s secrets are best unveiled beneath the gentle illumination of the morning sun. Thus, beneath the celestial canopy, you settle into the watchful embrace of the night, awaiting the dawn to reveal the mysteries that lie dormant within the ancient monastery’s walls.
Beneath the tranquil night sky, no nightmares dared to disturb your restful slumber, allowing the embrace of peaceful dreams to weave its gentle tapestry throughout the silent hours.
Scene 3 (interrupted: conceal, needs), Chaos Factor 5
Awakening to the eerie scratching, your senses stir, and eyes flutter open to an unsettling reality. A monstrous spider, driven by hunger’s primal urgency, advances with predatory intent, interrupting the peace of your slumber in a sinister quest for sustenance.
Upon closer scrutiny, the monstrous arachnid reveals itself as an Etterherd—a creature known for its insatiable appetite. The realization adds an extra layer of dread to the encounter as you grapple with the eerie presence of this otherworldly spider.
The ethereal spider, with swift and malevolent strikes, inflicts a substantial amount of damage upon your form, the venomous fangs sinking deep. Yet, undeterred by the pain, an unwavering resolve surges within you. With measured precision and an arsenal of well-honed skills, you retaliate against the monstrous foe.
The battle unfolds in a dance of desperation and determination, each of your strikes a declaration of defiance against the venomous assailant. Despite the toll exacted upon your being, a surge of strength propels you forward. In a decisive moment, the final blow is delivered, and the monstrous spider succumbs to your prowess. Victorious, albeit battered, you stand amidst the aftermath of the arduous struggle, the echoes of the ethereal creature’s demise fading into the stillness of the surrounding abyss.
In the dire aftermath of the encounter, you hastily retrieve a curative potion from your belongings. As the elixir courses through your veins, an instantaneous transformation unfolds. The wounds inflicted by the ethereal spider begin to heal, and a revitalizing surge permeates your entire being. Within mere moments, the pallor of affliction gives way to a renewed vitality, and you stand resolute, the curative magic of the potion vanquishing the lingering effects of the venom.
Following a brief respite to gather your composure, you enter the hallowed halls of the ruined monastery as planned. The echoes of the recent struggle linger in the air, but a newfound determination guides your steps into the heart of the ancient sanctuary. With each footfall, the mysteries concealed within the dilapidated walls beckon, and the allure of undiscovered secrets unfolds in the sacred silence of the forsaken structure.
Passing through the massive, decrepit portal doors, you emerge into a vast corridor stretching eastward. The air within bears the scent of antiquity and foreboding. Beneath your feet, the floor is a grim mosaic, littered with the skeletal remains of unfortunate adventurers and treasure seekers who met their fate within these forsaken halls. The echoes of their silent demise resonate in the eerie silence, a haunting reminder of the perils that lie concealed in the shadows of the ancient sanctuary.
Three portals unveil themselves in the corridor, offering potential pathways for your exploration. To the northeast, a door stands, hinting at the allure of undiscovered chambers. Simultaneously, the northwest presents another portal, its mysteries awaiting your discovery. To the south, a third entrance awaits, promising secrets concealed within. The decision of which route to embark upon now rests in your hands as you stand at the crossroads of this ancient and enigmatic labyrinth.
Venturing through the door to the northeast, you find yourself in a vertical corridor steeped in the echoes of ages past. The once-grand tankards, now neglected and forlorn, lie scattered along the pathway. Their contents, long evaporated or spoiled, cast a melancholic pallor over the scene. Rotten remnants of food reserves add to the silent testimony of a bygone era, where revelry and sustenance once thrived within these desolate halls. The corridor unfolds as a time-forgotten tableau, a testament to the decay that has claimed what was once vibrant and alive.
Undeterred by the stubborn door to the northeast, you pivot towards the west and step into a room enveloped in an eerie, greenish fog. The air is thick with an otherworldly haze, and the walls, covered in mould and decay, exude an unsettling aura.
The spectral fog weaves a disorienting dance, obscuring the room’s dimensions and lending an almost ethereal quality to the surroundings. The mouldy walls, witnesses to the relentless passage of time, seem to pulse with an uncanny life of their own.
As you navigate through this mysterious chamber, the greenish fog shrouds the secrets concealed within, and the mouldy walls bear silent witness to the enigma that lies dormant in this forsaken corner of the ancient sanctuary. The choices of the next path, obscured by the spectral mist, await your discerning exploration.
In the eastern corner of the room, your keen eyes discern a chest waiting patiently to be unveiled. Opening it with a sense of anticipation, you uncover a hidden treasure—an exquisite statuette, small yet intricately crafted. The delicate features of the statuette evoke an air of ancient craftsmanship, its significance and origin shrouded in the same mysteries that enfold the ruins around you. A newfound possession in hand, the statuette hints at untold stories and further intrigue within the heart of the forsaken sanctuary.
Returning to the corridor, you redirect your steps towards the door to the south. The transition from the eerie room veiled in greenish fog leads you into the uncharted territory beyond the southward portal. The corridor stretches out, a beckoning passage, as you press forward with an intrepid spirit, ready to face the enigmatic depths that await beyond the next threshold.
Entering the expansive hall, you find yourself in what appears to be the heart of the monastery. Ethereal voices whisper through the sacred air, creating an otherworldly symphony that resonates within the vast chamber. At the center stands a shrine, its aura imbued with an ancient sanctity.
As your gaze wanders, it comes to rest upon a skeletal figure behind an altar—a silent sentinel from a bygone era. In its bony grasp, a bluish glowing chalice is cradled, radiating an otherworldly luminescence. With careful reverence, you retrieve the mystical vessel from the skeletal grip of the long-forgotten treasure-hunter.
A disquieting rattling sound disrupts the silence as you step through the portal. Turning in apprehension, you bear witness to an unsettling sight—the skeletal figure behind the altar has risen, its empty gaze fixated upon you, a bony finger accusingly pointing at the bluish glowing chalice now cradled in your possession.
As the echoes of rattling intensify, a chorus of skeletal unrest rises from all corners of the monastery. The dormant remains of long-forgotten treasure-seekers awaken, their skeletal forms animated by an inexplicable discontent. It becomes evident that the once-silent inhabitants of this sacred space now begrudge you the mystical artifact.
The air grows heavy with spectral tension as you realize that the coveted chalice has triggered an awakening, transforming the serene hall into a stage for the unrest of the risen dead. The choices that unfold before you now carry the weight of confronting the spectral consequences of your discovery within the depths of the ancient monastery.
Swiftly calculating the perilous odds, the decision to betake yourself in hasty flight takes hold. With the bluish glowing chalice clutched tightly, you cast a fleeting glance around, urgently recalling the fastest route back to the entrance.
Adrenaline surges as you break into a run, the haunting symphony of rattling skeletons echoing in your wake. The labyrinthine corridors unfold before you, a blur of forgotten shadows and spectral unrest. The urgency of escape propels you forward, navigating the twists and turns with the singular aim of reaching the sanctuary of the entrance before the risen dead can close in on your fleeing footsteps.
Reaching the haven of the entrance portal, you emerge into the cold, mist-laden air. With the sanctuary of the ancient structure behind you, a deep breath fills your lungs, and the haunting echoes of the skeletons dissipate into the mist.
Cautiously listening for any lingering pursuers, you ascertain that the spectral unrest has been left behind. A sense of relief washes over you as you secure the bluish glowing chalice within your backpack. With a resolute stride, you put considerable distance between yourself and the haunted monastery, the mysteries and dangers of its depths now relegated to the haunting recesses of memory.
In the heart of Davokar’s shadowed embrace, where verdant boughs conceal both ancient secrets and impending perils, each stride deeper into the abyss unveils the haunting allure of the forest’s enigma, where danger dwells beneath the veiled tapestry of nature’s obsidian cloak.Rucisci Khirsan