The Isle of the Chosen

According to Lazar: Sessions 5-7

Quillessa has been preoccupied recently, so I have taken it upon myself to record events in the interim.

As they were traveling back to the apes’ asylum, the party was beset by a collection of serpentine hell-spawn. The self-proclaimed wizards were able to extricate the party with some paltry relocation trick.

Of course the demons were still at the gates. Fortunately the apes were able to bang the right bones together to piece me together and I flew us all to safety.

Well, not actually to safety. The party insisted I take them to some ice cave to go after a tome. Alright, the tome might be of some importance, but only if we can get our hands on the other two.

At the entrance to the cave there was a hilarious altercation with a tribe of amoeba, the leader of which accidentally threw itself off a cliff. I suppose I should be clear, these were Yeti. I should keep my snide remarks out of these historical records.

Once the entourage eradicated the entirety of the tribe’s people, they proceed to pillage and peddle off their prized possessions, piece by piece.

Finally a quorum of the troupe investigated the forward portion of the cave, only to fight off a collection of carnivorous creepy crawlies.

As of this writing, they are picking over the bodies and investigating another pool of piss.

According to Nyx: Session 4

After a thorough search of the wreckage, we discovered, among other things, an invitation to The Creatorium. LasarOS was able to determine that the coordinates on the invitation were not only nearby, but actually somewhere on this impossible island.

While I was working on my Demon Buster prototype, Mr. Capone bowled me over with a rock. I’ve still got a whopper of a knob where he hit me. Brighteyes, and a gargantuan woman were with him and they all seemed somewhat concerned we were ghosts. To make matters worse, some shenanigans involving talking crabs and sarcastic helpers had them further spooked.

All told, it seemed the whole of the party survived the crash.

Captain Mwest, the female guard, relayed to us, as best she could, that she was sent to the wreckage to bring survivors, and the wreckage itself back to her superiors. So we packed up the featherwood hull and, with no help from anyone who could lift over twenty pounds, managed to drag it up the beach.

The Creatorium is a giant, seamless block of some kind of mortar which, from the inside can be seen through. At first I was impressed by the way everything seemed to function without magic, until I could see, through the walls, folks maneuvering the doors with ropes and pulleys.

Auxillary note = the party was being followed by guards with psychically resonating spears;

That was LasarOS. Not entirely sure how he did that. Anyway, I didn’t notice the guards. I was distracted by a charming older wizard who had a knack for flattery. Didn’t catch his name. I was… distracted. He had all the hallmarks of a man of extreme intelligence. He offered all of us substantial amounts of money, items, and the repair of our ship in exchange for help with some disturbing sightings on the island and help replicating the airship. Riscaan wanted to be sure that he had intellectual ownership of the designs. I was mostly concerned they would want to analyze Lasar, or raid the elementals’ apartments. It was bad enough they had our crash playing in the background.

Anyway, we set out and, with the help of Brighteye’s flying contraption, quickly found a chained devil roaming the wild. Between my new Demon Buster and Capone’s awe-inspiring attacks, it and it’s little gropey friend didn’t have much of a chance. Unfortunately, once we did vanquish the bastard, it belched out some horrible mist of ichor that coated the rest of the party.

It was a rough battle. Everyone’s just sort of taking a breather on the plateau. I’ve got some tinkering to do- keep everyone’s stuff in top shape, so that’s it for now.

There are a few pages of detailed notes on the demon, some designs for minor ship improvements and a purely artistic rendering of the older gentleman.

According to Nyx: session 3

The party decided to take Remmy, the dragonborn, back to the king. On the way back we met back up with Wasp, Barry the Boatman, and the Elvish maiden. Barry the Boatman had made gobs of money because his was the only boat that survived the storm and he was so grateful we warned him that he gave us all ten platinum apiece. We also returned the signet ring to the maiden, who offered to supply us with horses whenever we needed them.

We returned to the King and told him about the [[According to Nyx: Session 1 | demons]] we found at the Paloran temple. He seemed glad to hear we cleared the area and re-consecrated the grounds. Once we started talking about dragons and dragonborn, he seemed less excited about the finding than I initially was. Granted, dragons are scary, perhaps scarier than the stories implied, but, I mean, I figure we shouldn’t have a whole hell of a lot of trouble convincing them we’re on the same side. I mean, demons and plagues…

Anyway, the king invited us to a lavish dinner, and we asked that his chef cook us up the dragon meat we had been lugging about. I had a little of the meat, fried with an orange glaze, but I mostly ate cake.

Through the rest of the night I consulted with Wasp about natural alternatives to my machines which he would be more comfortable with, and while I worked and experimented Wasp opened a nice little food court for the poor and suffering.

In the morning I heard the bad news. Marco Gaust had been murdered in the night- really more smooshed than murdered. Risken had a guard chase down the Paloran priestess, but he ended up nailed to the front of a Paloran temple. Even poor Remmy, who had finally come to trust the king and was going to work as an ambassador for the King to the Green Molt, was smooshed in the same way Marcho was.

Finally, we decided to set out in our airship with the King’s diplomats to consult with the Green Molt. Many of the ship’s systems were not fully repaired, but I was able to jury rig a simple drive system that would get us off the ground.

The next six pages are filled with a frantic, illegible scrawl, technical diagrams, dark, sooty smudges, and the occasional tear stain. The following page is empty except for two lines

We were attacked by demons. We crashed into an island.

According to Nyx: Session 2

So we camped overnight under cover of brush to formulate a plan to take out the kobold guards. None of us from the Flying Circus could really tell what the Mercenaries we plotting so Zandrak and I figured we’d lure one onto the beartrap I made from the jawbone I recovered from the Paloran temple. Okay, to be perfectly honest I had this whole great thing all planned out, but Zandrak felt it was too overcomplicated and unreliable. Instead he set the trap nearby with some ghost-y helper-types, and I jumped out to draw their attention.

The trap worked like a charm, catching one of the kobolds… and then the scary fellow dropped out of the sky on top of him. It turns out brighteyes has had a flying machine this entire time, and he thinks my equipment is voodoo.

What came next was such a blur of action, before I even realized it had arrived, Brisken was telling me not to use my poison fog machine on the green dragon that was somehow already half-dead. It was quite a struggle, knocked prone with it’s own servant, wrapped in razor wire, drawn in a net secured by phantom hands, stuffed into a hole, it was only by a string of lucky shots and cooperation that we all survived.

Once it was all over, Thomas, as if possessed, took a bite clean out of the dragon’s hide, a rite which Zandrak took part in. Now, I’m not too sure about Thomas, but I was certain Zandrak had more sense than that. It seemed to spark some form of kinship between them, but if that’s the price of friendship with a mercenary, I’ll just have to heal them once they’re incapacitated.

Between the seven of us, we stripped the dragon down to its bones. Brisken preserved the dragon’s skull to use as a battering ram for the ship. Capone and Zandrak made a matching pair of BFF necklaces with the dragon’s teeth, I rendered a draft of poison from the dragon’s blood. Nessa wired the dragon’s claws into a pretty wicked crown, and, proving again that he’s deceptively ingenious, Brighteyes used bone and wing skin to upgrade his flying machine. What was left we’ve split amongst the party for later use.

It was nighttime before we entered the cave. There was one large, ancient passage that looked to have been carved out and obviously heavily laden with traps. One path, which everyone seemed most interested in had one simple pressure trap, which I quickly disarmed. No one seemed to trust my abilities, so they chucked me down the hallway! I mean, not that I’m not used to being thrown around, but usually folks give me a warning. Besides, for all they knew they’d just lobbed me past any other traps! It turned out I’d done an excellent job clearing them out, so we were all fine.

Further down the path we found a pool of liquid, and before I had my testing kit out, Zandrak had himself knee-deep in what turned out to be dragon wee. As he left to wash himself off, we noticed that the walls of the passage were mirror-smooth and likely formed by the acid dragon’s breath weapon.

The passage opened to a massive cave and immediately my eyes were drawn to a massive fireball suspended in the sky. My devices indicated it was a magically sustained fire, meaning whatever bloodline previously occupied the cave still lived on elsewhere.

As we searched through the structures carved into the cave, we found bodies. As far as I could tell, it seemed they were just going about their business when they expired suddenly and, quite possibly, simultaneously. There were no wounds or detectable internal injuries that I could tell. They just sort of expired. Brisken sent out a message that he detected thoughts deeper in the city and I ran after them, fearing the worst.

Near a structure, deep in the city, we noticed some gross worms and undead. I got all ready to support the group from the shadows of the bridge, but when I turned around Zandrak and Nesa were gone. I did what I could, and Brisken and I cleared out most of the worms, but the commotion alerted dragonborn soldiers and some skeletons that were a little too set on jabbing me in the shoulder. I heard a commotion across the river and spotted Nesa and Zandrak in a struggle with more dragonborn and skeletons. I left mister Capone with a specially rigged healing flask and helped Nesa with the dragonborn.

When the dust had settled there was one pitiful little dragonborn who Nesa had on a short (metaphorical) leash. He mentioned that the Green Molt had three lairs which he marked on our map, and that all the dragons had decided the island was corrupted by, and I believe I’m quoting this: “devils, the coming plague, and the evil in the capitol” and each group was going to purge the island of those evils in their own ways.

Oh, the Green Molt are all the green dragons and dragonborn. The three races of dragons call themselves Red, Black, and Green Molts. I’m thinking the Green Molts are poison dragons who were trying to get rid of the evil in the capitol, since we followed the traces of the Palorians’ magic straight to that cave. Unless the king sent us off to something completely unrelated to that traitor.

According to Nyx: Session 1

In the early morning we were served a notice to meet a messenger at Morridin’s Hammer in order to then have an audience with His Highness King, which to be honest was quite the runaround. The notices went out separately to two of the performers, the manager, myself and, as it turns out, a two-man band of superstitious mercenaries, and a druid for whom it would be putting things lightly to say they have a bone to pick with technology.

We all met at the bar, and just as were we beginning to enjoy each other’s companionship at Heart Hammerhead’s patronage, some young gun Palor twit made a big stink about the whole thing. It turned out that this Marco Gaust character was not only the messenger we were supposed to meet, but he was totally some sectist fanatic and he, his guards, and what seemed like half the city turned on us, calling us the heretics. I mean, really.

Things got a little scary, and I think I might have really hurt one fellow, but overall I can see how folks can get so caught up in constantly fighting. It was quite a rush.

Oh, not only did that Marco twit turn traitor, try to swan off, and eventually get himself hogtied like a complete idiot, he had the gall to have himself zipped away by what, according to my devices seemed like an unnecessary number of casters, and later was stupid enough to get his dumb butt caught all over again.

I’m getting ahead of myself. We met with His Highness King Earl, who had quite a lot to say about the devout being against his recent methods of rule. I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention to the specifics because I was focused on keeping tabs on Marco and his magical backup.

Once we were out of the castle, we spotted Marco and gave chase, taking him down after throwing things in his way, sicking townsfolk on him, numbing his legs, and a million other things which, on their own, should have been enough to stop him.

We were all very careful about Marco’s accommodations, checking the cell, warding it from access from familiars, and assuring ourselves of the caliber of the guards.

We then spent some time in Zandax’ big ol’ castle of a home. It was really the kind of thing you’d expect of a performer of his charisma. I spent most of the evening rigging my manager’s equipment and making adjustments to my other rigs. I don’t particularly understand the others’ umbrage toward my devices I feel if I could just properly explain their workings they would not be so wary of them.

That morning we visited a ferry… Merry the Mariner… or Berry the boatman… something like that? Anyway, the naturalist fellow tested the weather rather accurately without any appropriate devices, which I found rather impressive, and determined that there would be a terrible storm in the next few days, and that we’d probably rather not be on a boat, which was somewhat of a relief. I have a hard enough time with the motions of the airship, boats really rather suck.

Not that I’d prefer walking. We were absolutely blessed to find an elven maiden willing to lend us some enchanted horses. She was looking for an elven waif which we eventually found. that was a sad story… I hope I got the elven/paloran send-off rites correct.

Right, so we came upon a desecrated temple with a bunch of demons, and the poor elf was crawling with something awful under his skin. On the plus side I have a pretty wicked set of jaws which I think I’ll be able to make a bear trap with. Uhm… the naked fellow… Brighteyes seemed okay with that form of device, which is promising.

It’s interesting to note, the guys who ambushed us and whom we are investigating were Palor cultists, and the demons had desecrated a temple of Palor, and were talking about how we were beating up a known evil and ignoring an unknown evil and the usual string of omens and words like harbinger that you expect from those sort.

Anyway, so, after the best night of sleep I’ve had in a long time, we set out and found a cave full of lizard men. I think they’re also cannibals. Or- are they cannibals if they eat other humanoids? I’m not entirely sure on the rules of that particular classification. There was some mention of eating flesh, I know that much.


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