Nehl Brisby - A Meeting and a Party

"The following morning, we were met at the inn by Amyria, who had an urgent request: She wanted us to make an appearance at a coalition of powerful leaders she had assembled. Apparently she hopes our notoriety, neutrality, and (in Mayim's case, at least) ferocity would help her in wrangling some unruly bureaucrats. This sounded like something I was specifically well-prepared for, but I feigned disinterest, following the rest of the party there anyway in their efforts to help out in any way they could. I imagine this strange, helpful attitude I see signs of every now an again is, in some way, a sort of penance for just how brutal they are in combat. Perhaps all of the mercy they don't deign to show their enemies is offloaded onto nearby townsfolk and people in need... 

Regardless, we were on our way, and en route to the University where this coalition was meeting, Amyria discussed the people we would be meeting. Sadly, most were not technically nobility so much as they were people of power. That subtle distinction makes much larger differences in the circles I am accustomed to... Nevertheless, I made note of their names (and particularly the fact that the ruler of Nefelus had not shown up) an we arrived in due course. 

The other Copper Fang members (I belatedly realize that I called our little gang the 'Bronze' Fang in my last entry. Mayim claims that Copper is the correct name. We shall have to settle this at some point) seemed to recognize a few of the people in attendance here. Specifically a Dwarf by the name of Kalad and a Githzerai named Odos, who sat apart from the other assembled leaders for some reason... I recognized the latter myself, as he had been at the meeting in the warehouse not long ago, but I had not previously caught his name. Amyria introduced everyone in a round, we explained our presence and status as freelance heroes, and the meeting began. 

As is so often the case when people of 'real' power come together, petty squabbles sprung up almost instantly. The purpose of this meeting, it seemed, was to create a sort of multinational truce and joint military force with which to hold off all that might threaten the realm, and at the moment the odd Githyanki uprising that had been taking place of late outside of the city's walls. Apparently the prospect of relinquishing direct control of their military might unto a collaborative force did not sit well with several people, despite the fact that they themselves would be a part of this force. Mayim, again taking point as the mouth of our party, did an admirable job talking the shouting members down without losing her nerve. With some prodding from myself, Alin, and Nathaniel, we even helped her to convince them that such a treaty might be beneficial to them as individuals, as well as to the region as a whole. While many of those assembled seemed to care very little that some small towns might be taken over by Githyanki, the point that the loss of a non-ally could very quickly lead to the rise of an immediate enemy convinced at least a few of them very quickly. The largest sticking point taken care of, Amyria brought up a second point. One which could sink such a venture before it even began: Who would lead this assembly? 

To my surprise, the usual explosion of noise and self-nomination managed to limit itself to a more polite mentioning that such arguments so often end in stalemates as every party votes for themselves. Even more surprising, Mayim had an answer. We, as freelancers, made a perfect swing vote for such an event and (to cut off an uppity elf woman who attempted to cut in with a snarky retort about us nominating ourselves) Amyria would make for an excellent leader. She was not in a position of real power, unlike the others seated here, her only real allegiance was to the safety of the realm, and she had no particular stake in the status of any one nation. Several of the leaders eyed Amyria more carefully at this. Before she had simply been the officiator of this meeting. As the head of a multinational coalition, though... How would she stack up? "Additionally," I spoke up, "should you find her lacking information or insight that you find truly important to such a role... She would have each and every one of you as personal advisers to the cause." Plenty of say on matters of state, none of the responsibility. That got them. I admit to being slightly smug as the assembled leaders nodded their heads and agreed that such a situation pleased them greatly. Nobility, as I well knew, were incredibly easy to sway with the promise of power without repercussions... Before we left the meeting, we took a moment to help the group brainstorm a name for their organization. The Lord of Sayre, who still seemed slightly worried about the prospect of losing some control over his town's forces, was quite pleased with the name that was eventually settled on. To commemorate where this deal had been made and where its seat of power currently rested, it was dubbed the Sayre Coalition for Planar Defense. Everyone seemed pleased with this moniker, and we quickly left, as it was nearly time for our previously-arranged meeting with Telicanthus, the Githzerai noble who seemed quite interested in our presence here. 

Arriving at the manor, we were met by an elderly man who announced himself to be Baranor the Black, once an adventurer like ourselves, but sorely brought low in his prime when an arrow had lodged itself in his knee. (Alin chuckled at this, for some reason) Nathaniel offered to help the man's knee with some of his knowledge of healing (how the man was not a Paladin I do not know), hoping to get some information about Telicanthus from him. We got plenty of information, that is for certain, but most of it was squarely focused on Baranor's adventures of old. Not caring whether or not these tales were true, we positioned Alin at the forefront of the man's barrage of anecdotes and continued into the manor itself. Telicanthus greeted us briefly, and we split up to mingle with the guests and see what we could overhear. At one point, a servant by the name of Pennel, who the rest of the party had apparently met soon before my joining them, was seen eyeing us intently. Interested, Mayim and I both made our way over to him, to see if perhaps he was trying to get our attention. He quickly denied anything and slipped away. We were both quite suspicious, but Mayim seemed content to leave him be and continue hovering near Telicanthus himself in hopes of learning something important. I was less easy about the man. The things servants in a house such as this often know could bring entire kingdoms to their knees... I excused myself and slipped into a side room. There, I assumed my rat form and emerged into the hallway where Pennel had been. 

He was still at the end of the hall, entering a room with a wary glance in both directions. I made my way towards him, but was forced to quickly hide under a different door as he emerged again, stowed away a small key, and hurriedly moved in my direction. I went unnoticed, and I approached the door he had entered. The thing was quite secure, being so low as to prevent my entry even in this small form. Peering around carefully lest I be spotted, I assumed hybrid form (I had arrived as a human, and as such I might not be immediately recognized if spotted), picked the lock, slipped through the door, shut it behind me, and resumed rat form. It appeared to be some kind of study. Sure that I hadn't been spotted entering, I began snooping. Everything seemed to be in order. No furniture seemingly disturbed, no incriminating documents lying around... Even the journal left open on the desk was one of guest lists and planned construction elsewhere in the manor. Defeated, I prepared to leave the room, when suddenly I noticed something. This room, when compared to the room adjacent to it, where I had hidden when Pennel passed by, was several feet too thin. Even assuming that this building had very thick walls, there was the space of a small hallway between this room and that, without any such feature existing from the outside! I investigated further... 

As I suspected, the wall that should bordered the neighboring room held a particularly ugly mirror. The decorative trimming of the thing was so overblown that it almost made it difficult to pay attention to the very image the mirror displayed. Clambering up the side of the hideous thing, I carefully checked it for any signs of a mechanism or switch. Eventually, I pressed the right inlaid jewel, and the glass of the mirror flickered out. Pleased with myself, I immediately entered, giving no thought to the fact that my companions might find this sort of thing interesting as well. The small tunnel on the other side of the mirror was rough, with the same look of recent excavation as the beggar tunnels, albeit with signs of a more skillful hand throughout. At the end of this tunnel was a ladder down, and at the bottom of that, yet another tunnel. Dark as it was, I was still perfectly capable of seeing a larger room at the end of this one, though it was not empty. Two Githyanki stood at the entrance to the next room, unaware of the rat watching them from the tunnel. I was sorely tempted to give them the surprise of their lives (shortly before ending those miserable things), but there was a great chance of more of their ilk being elsewhere in whatever complex this was, and I thought better of it. I retraced my steps, carefully left Telicanthus' study, entered the library at the other end of the hall, and retook human form. I joined the party again in the parlor with the excuse that I had simply gone to peruse Telicanthus' book collection, as you can tell a lot about a man from the books he keeps. It's quite true, and I was certainly curious, but it was an investigation that would have to wait. That said, the party was quite clearly not convinced with my story (which I had expected) and we adjourned to a small balcony so that I could tell them what I'd found.

While they had kept tabs of Telicanthus himself, witnessing him discussing the state of the city's food stores with a worried noblewoman (worth noting, perhaps, but not the intel we sought), very little had been gleaned from the Gith's conversation. Everyone seemed quite curious about what truly hid in the tunnels beneath the manor, and we agreed that we would canvas the area that night and look for an alternate entrance to the same system. If an old town truly lay beneath this one, there was a good chance that many of these tunnels eventually connected. Even better, Telicanthus had recently requested that the usual town guard avoid the streets around his home, instead having them be patrolled by his personal guard. This mean that we would be freer to explore without chance of awkward talks with the night watchmen. Things were looking quite good for us, for once. 

On a bit of a side note, I was quite saddened by this little party scene. Not only had I gotten very little time to socialize once again with people of my own status, I found that, after so much time away from it all, I'd lost much of my taste for the business... Mercenaries, townsfolk, soldiers, barbarians; they all spoke plainly and directly, if not always politely. The double-talk and sarcasm and hidden plots of the nobility... If only a short time among them, the cloistering stench of plotting and scheming and inevitable betrayal flooded back, and I found that I no longer enjoyed the intrigue as I once had. It had become... petty. Petty, empty, and full of negative energy. Such energies may keep me animated these days, but it seems I simply can't stomach them in a social setting... My dreams of one day rejoining the lavish noble lifestyle, and of once again holding a position of privilege and power... I have much thinking to do.

- Nehl Brisby"

At this point, the handwriting and language of the entries change dramatically. It seems someone else got their hands on this journal for at least a short while... Did Nehl abandon the book, or was it stolen from him? I shall have to translate... It's been so long that I've worked on this goblin-esque script, I need to remember how to begin!

Nehl Brisby - Ancient Archives

On the page following the second stain on his private journal, Nehl continues his commentary on the hidden lair of the beggars.

"The combat following the initial rising of the draconic golem was tense, to say the least. Aelon, having heard the commotion of our fight with the Filth King and his minions, had quickly completed what study he could and rushed to our aid, arriving just in time to see the beast take shape. Mayim went to work filling the room with more lightning than I think the heavens themselves could muster, while the Dragon and I took to a battle of the minds. Over the course of our conflict, it managed to manipulate the minds of Alin and Nathaniel (the latter more than once) to move and act as it bade. In what I thought was a just rebuttal, I locked eyes with the thing long enough to assert dominance over the construct and force it to attack its master. These sorts of exchanges went on for some time, while the Filth King tried many tactics to pierce Nathaniel's armor and remove our front line of defense, failing each time. Eventually, the golden golem seemed to sense that we would not stop attacking it for fear of both its size and ferocious form, and instead decided to detonate. Gold and small artifacts flew across much of the room, thankfully doing little harm to us, but rendering the beast -- then just a floating collection of larger items and loose coinage -- a far more difficult target. So prevented from easily striking the more dangerous foe, we turned on the Filth King, eager to get this combat over with. He proved tenacious and hardy, but eventually he succumbed to our combined strength and expired. With all other enemies soundly defeated, we turned our attentions once more to the summoned monstrosity. 

While I had been hopeful that simply killing the apparent leader of this cult would be enough to call off his pet, I was disappointed. Thankfully, Aelon, having been less taken aback by the arrival of the creature due to it having already been there when he arrived, had been carefully studying the beast and its habits. He had seen, he called to us, a strange motion from the Filth King while he had been worryingly close to the thing. For no obvious reason, in the midst of combat, he had flung a small, golden object at the dragon, then ceased to pay it any real mind. Perhaps, he thought, this was a way of pacifying it or declaring yourself its ally! Bemused by this possibility, several of us backed away from the golem and tossed some of the same gold that it had violently expelled at us earlier back into what remained of its mass. The tossed gold returned to the thing's center of mass as if magnetized, and it seemed to lose interest in us. Alin, however, was not content with this result, claiming it was inconclusive. He tossed a small coin at the golem like the rest of it, and watched it calm down considerably towards him, but he followed this act up with a violent, arcane bolt. Understandably, the dragon riled up again almost instantly. "Aha!" Alin cried, apparently excited by this result. "I have verified your hypothesis with science!" His actions here were systematic and logical, I must admit, but much the same conclusion could have been drawn by simply throwing the coin and waiting. Had the creature not attacked him after that, the theory would have been proven enough for my liking! Such a risky ploy, simply in the interest of precise knowledge of something that would likely not arise a second time... The man is intelligent, no doubt, but he lacks much in the way of common sense, I fear. 

However, once everyone played along, the gambit worked! The dragon, suddenly sensing no more threats nearby, returned to its place of origin and dissolved back into an inanimate pile of gold, gems, and the occasional weapon. Nothing especially spectacular, sadly, but it was certainly a bounty in terms of raw currency. The potential, in that respect, far outweighed any individual item we might have found! We reveled in our victory, it being the first major accomplishment we'd made since I had joined with the group, and we took turns keeping watch of the entrance, searching the bodies of our foes, and shoveling the remains of the dragon into a bag of holding that the party had apparently bought some time earlier. Saffron and Aelon claim with some certainty that whatever enchantment brought this treasure to life was absent now, or would at least become so upon leaving this chamber, but I remain wary. I will let the others carry the bag for a while, just to be safe... 

My undead nature is a curse in many respects, but in one it has been quite a boon: Rest comes quickly and easily to me. Though I am not a sleepless, hungerless beast like the average zombie or wight, I find that I recover from fatigue a fair bit sooner than the mortals around me. An obvious advantage in many respects, it helped me once again here, as I felt fit to travel again a few minutes before everyone else was quite prepared to continue onward, giving me a bit of time to inspect the room one last time. Specifically, I chose to investigate a crudely-hewn statue of Tiamat that rested in the very back of the room, behind where the treasure pile had once been. It was large, but not particularly detailed, and it showed little sign of worship around it, and the pile of gold before it had largely hidden it from view to the rest of the chamber. This intrigued me, and it turned out that these instincts were correct, as the statue rested on an odd seam in the wall. Manipulating the statue in any way I could think of, I eventually heard the click of a mechanism and a passage opened before me! By this time, the party was quite ready to move on once more, and so we ventured into this secret tunnel. 

It proved to be quite short, but the dark passageway ended in an incredibly sturdy-looking stone door. I made a quick attempt to open the thing silently, having heard nothing inside, but it was immediately apparent that moving the thing even the slightest bit would be incredibly loud and agonizingly slow. Determined not to be caught unawares once again, I alerted the party that I intended to scout ahead and utilized yet another of my helpful vampiric traits: the ability to become little more than a cloud of mist. (A note in the margins: It continues to irk me just how often my condition actually makes itself useful. Were I not an abomination before the gods, I would almost wish to remain this way, but it is what drove me to slaughter my family, and it is a curse I must someday rid myself of, if such a thing can even be done...) Slipping through the cracks between the door and its frame, I inspected what lay ahead of us in the darkness. 

The scene was a sad one. This room had obviously once been some kind of study or library. Shelves lined every wall, and signs of parchment, books, and writing tools were nearly everywhere. Unfortunately, anything even marginally perishable had long since converted to dust, mold, and rot. Several bodies sat on the floor, nearly mummified in the dry air of the chamber. The remains of their clothes suggested that they were scholarly types, and worshipers of Ioun, but the bones of their fingers were sharpened to deadly-looking points. Hypocritical as it seems, I am not fond of undead creatures, and ghouls are certainly an unpleasant lot. I made special note of them before continuing to survey the scene from near the doorway. Etchings and writings covered every vertical surface in the room. Most were formulas and equations that were alien to me, as well as ramblings as to their meaning that might have helped, were I any sort of scholar, but amongst them were several journal-like entries. Their contents were too long to recall easily, and my incorporeal form lacked any means of writing them down, so I concluded that it was time to rejoin the party and enter the room physically, ghouls or no ghouls. 

Excited by the mere mention of a library, Aelon was first through the door by a large margin as we laboriously shoved it aside. As soon as his light fell upon the bodies, however, the forms stirred and he screamed like a woman, running back through us and up the stairs. This made a bit more clear his obvious disdain for me, but it was still unsuited for an adventurer of his supposed caliber... Still, I will admit that I was quite surprised myself as one of the ghoul-like bodies began to glow and speak, reacting to that short moment of Aelon's presence. "Fellow seeker of knowledge and follower of wise Ioun, we leave these findings to you..." It intoned, going dark once it had completed its message and collapsing into dust. I had been unaware of Aelon's religious affiliations up to this point (and Nathaniel's as well, as apparently he had quite the pantheon of worshipped gods I was unaware of before now), but it was good to know that they were at least making themselves useful. We eventually convinced him to return to the room and investigate it with us. The writings were fascinating, though I imagine moreso to Alin and Aelon, who seemed to actually understand a few of the less direct etchings that covered the walls. I have made a note of the things I could actually read and comprehend, the latter of which appears to be some sort of prophetic message directly specifically for us: 

 This, as is to be expected, was quite a surprise. While I don't believe we are part of anything especially great or worthy of song in our current endeavor, to have our current adventuring be a part of something foreseen so long ago is... Well, I'm not sure if it's flattering or worrying, to be honest. Perhaps I have underestimated exactly what kinds of things this Bronze Fang gets itself into... 

-- 

We returned to the surface some time later, having gleaned the area for yet more writings and anything else of worth -- at least of the monetary sort -- the beggars might have scavenged. Our first stop was the marketplace, where we bought several things for the rest of the party, and I purchased for myself some presentable clothes. (While I value the clothing I wear in combat greatly, I must be presentable if I am to finally mingle once more with others of my true station) Before we left the market, however, we were called to the side by a seedy-looking chap who was hocking an odd, glowing crystal. Such things are not exactly uncommon to an adventuring party as magically-inclined as ours, but it was odd to see one being sold in the town square, and Mayim seemed to take a liking for it, immediately making an incredibly poor attempt at haggling for the item. I stepped in and attempted to assist her in this. Things were progressing slowly, with Aelon also providing a few offers for the merchant, but he seemed adamant in a price that I considered unreasonable. However, Nathaniel suddenly spoke up from the back with an interesting offer. He had noted that, among various other marketing ploys and false stories about how exotic and rare this crystal was, the merchant had mentioned finding it beyond the Isle of Nefelus, a location mentioned in the scrawls from the library walls. We would pay the merchant's egregious asking price, Nathaniel stated, if the man would also tell us where he had found this crystal, as well as where to find the place and the isle he'd passed to get there. An interesting and shrewd bargain, especially from one who usually said so little. The merchant seemed perfectly willing to give up information like that, seeming to think that the lands he'd visited were dangerous enough to get us all killed, were we even willing to travel far enough to impact his own expeditions, not realizing that what interested us more was his simple landmark rather than the stated destination. We neglected to correct this false impression, instead accepting both item and information and going on our way.

Nathaniel had, among a few other things, purchased materials with which to make himself a new shield, and left us at the inn to get to work while the rest of us rested for the next day. Unlike my short meditative rest within the beggars' chambers, unfortunately, my night's sleep was anything but restful. I tossed and turned wildly in my sleep, beset by images both dark and disturbing. I saw myself fleeing through darkened streets and among shadowy, living trees, dogged on all sides by fierce sewer rats and other foul vermin that I in waking hours considered kin. I ran for what seemed like an eternity, never truly resting or finding peace, gaining little solace if I dodged a pursuer and exacerbating the problem if I attempted to kill one. Eventually, however, I crested a strangely barren hill and encountered a blinding light. The sun, rendered my mortal foe by my condition, hovered on the horizon, far larger than I had ever seen it before. As its rays fell upon myself and my assailants, I was left somehow unharmed while the shadows that had plagued me squealed and screamed, dissipating in the light. As I stood there, awestruck, the sun itself spoke: "Fear not, Nehl Brisby, son of Veracht. Your new path is a righteous one. Though all might seem lost, and your companions more dangerous than your foes, stay true to both your goals and theirs, and all shall become clear to you, in time..." 

I woke then, shaking and terrified, but also suddenly hopeful. I have never been the most pious or loyal follower of Pelor, but he had seen fit to assuage my concerns with the Bronze Fang and bring me some semblance of peace. I am not sure I will ever bring myself to trust these people, Mayim and Alin in particular, but I will take solace in the fact that their cause and mine, whether they know it or not, align. Perhaps there is yet more to this motley assortment of divinely lucky psychopaths than I thought...

Nehl Brisby III"

Nehl Brisby - A Cult of Tiamat

Continuing the narrative begun on the previous page, this section of the writing is a bit darker and more jagged than that now ruined by the stain covering the previous iteration of this same tale. I would hazard a guess that perhaps Mr. Brisby was a bit upset at having to write this chunk of the adventure over again. Given the likely difficulty of translating common to goblin and goblin to this phonetic frankensteining of the written language, I would not necessarily blame him...

"Mayim and I, still hanging from the hatch we'd opened with her coin, peered into the upcoming room while we waited for the rest of the party to catch up. The place was dark, but it seemed even Mayim had little trouble noting the layout of the place, which was an irregular layout of raised platforms in a rectangular room. I was unsure of the usual purpose of this room, but at the moment it was most likely a point of ambush. My fears were partially confirmed when I noticed a slight movement on the floor below. At first appearing to be a cloud of mist or large puddle of water, I quickly realized that this room was home to a large slime of some sort, and quite possibly one of those annoying gelatinous cubes. Nasty critters, though their essence was as good as any other living thing's for my usual purposes. Pointing this danger out to my companion, the two of us entered the room via the trap door's rope ladder. I moved onto an outcropping behind our entry point, still in rat-form, while Mayim leaped outwardly onto a far ledge. I heard a cry of surprise, and realized that the halfling had unwittingly landed on a waiting assailant, who had hidden himself beneath a pile of rags. I glanced around expecting the worst, and the worst it was; we were surrounded by such piles, all of them filled with the stench of the ruffians who had attacked us earlier. 

I quickly assumed my hybrid form, hoping to catch the beggar within the pile nearest me by surprise, possibly even terrifying him into falling from our shared perch into the clutches of the slime below. Oddly, he barely seemed phased by my appearance. Slightly surprised at my sudden appearance and proximity, perhaps, but completely calm about the sight of what surely must have looked like a rabid were-beast appearing before him. To their credit, these beggars (if that's truly what they were) were of much sterner stuff than most men. Setting his lack of shock aside to be pondered at a later point, my diminutive cohort and I set about slaying those nearby while the rest of our number arrived. They did, in due course, and Nathaniel was the first to make his way down in the traditional manner (being ahead of both Alin and Aelon in the tunnel, with Saffron teleporting her way down to assist Mayim directly). There was a moment of dread as the ladder snapped under the weight of the man's armor, then one of disbelief as something I have never seen took place. Before he had fallen more than a meter, there was a flare of fiery magic from within the plates of Nathaniel's armor, and he flew through the air, landing safely on a platform to my left. When I asked him about this phenomenon later, he claimed that he had something called a 'spellscar', inflicted upon him years earlier, that had awakened these semi-random traits in him. I may have to research these 'scars' at a later date, but for now I'll simply take his word for it... 

The fighting continued from there in a fairly standard way, odd terrain layout notwithstanding. Many attempts were made from both sides to force foes from the edge and into the waiting protoplasm of the gelatinous cube, but few directly succeeded until Alin decided to dive into the room and fill it with a whirlwind capable of wresting nearly all of the brigands from their positions, dumping most of them unceremoniously into an acidic demise. Although one lucky (?) bastard survived his ordeal long enough to emerge from the cube's membrane, his face soon met with Nathaniel's hammer and simply ceased to be. Such is the way of this group... All that stands in your way is to be blasted, smashed, and teleported as quickly and violently out of the way as soon as possible, consequences be damned. Thus far I have not seen them hurt anyone I would deem 'innocent' in this unholy fervor, but I shall have to be on my guard in case they begin to go to far... 

Our combat concluded in that chamber, we rested for a moment before moving on. The rest of the party seemed disinclined to touch the remains of our slimy foe, even at the prospect of gold and new equipment with which to continue our crusade, and I made a point of the oddity of a blood-thirsty party such as them seemingly having an aversion to grime. "I would be perfectly willing to do it myself," Alin replied calmly from a ledge above me. "But why get my hands dirty when I have these Mage's Hands to do it for me?" He seemed to find himself quite clever at that, and the rest of the party was more than willing to allow him to sift through the ooze in this way, so I let the point drop. It made sense, in its way, but I felt that such a distant method of searching, even if it were only done on the rare occasion of a particularly moist enemy corpse fouling up an area, left much to be desired in terms of a thorough inspection. It seems my line of thought got through to Aelon, however, as he eventually joined me in the pit. He trusted my search of the bodies (aside from their fairly standard weapons and armor, they had nothing of real value), but he thought he might get something of worth from the acidic slime left behind by the cube. As everyone else was rested by the point, he suggested that we move on without him, citing that we were more than capable of handling ourselves, and there weren't likely to be all that many more beggars anyway, considering how many we had slain in the courtyard earlier. We agreed that his logic was sound and moved on. 

The tunnels beyond the chamber we had been in were strange. Apparently this had once been a part of the town above, but in time it had fallen into disrepair, and the new district had been erected on top of it. While much of the area was filled with rubble from the buildings that had once lined these now-subterranean streets, this small alleyway appeared to have been excavated some time ago, leading to a simple door. Mayim and I surveyed it for traps (there was a simple one, though we were unable to determine what setting it off might have accomplished before disassembling it), before revealing a short hallway beyond it. The walls were decorated with the image of a black-haired sorceress, and the door at the end of the hall with a five-headed dragon of many colors. Mayim, showing a bit more knowledge of the world than I had come to expect from her, announced that these were aspects of the goddess Tiamat, a deity of greed and envy. Fitting, for a cabal of lowly thugs, criminals, and beggars, I thought. 

Happy, perhaps, that she had managed to dispense some knowledge before either of the two competing bookworms had piped up, Mayim strode confidently up to the door and (after a cursory check for obvious traps) carefully opened it. Inside, yet more beggars stood behind rows of pews, obviously awaiting us. "Whoops! Wrong door..." Mayim lied quickly, hiding her surprise well. "Praise Tiamat!" With that, she shut the door. 

We looked at her for a moment, dumbfounded. From the sounds of it, the beggars were just as confused. "They shut the door. What do we do now?" I heard one ask. "Kill them, you fools!" was the immediate response. They tried to explain that we would kill them if they tried (a correct assertion), but the second voice, obviously a leader of some kind, commanded them to do it before he slew them himself. Moments later, the door opened slightly, revealing the silhouette of one of the beggars, a dagger whistling past his ear and lodging itself uselessly in the door behind me, just over my shoulder. Terrified, but unable to resist his master's orders, the beggar attacked, but was met by Nathaniel's hammer, slamming into him from the fighter's position immediately to the left (our right) of the door. From there, we blasted into the room with a fair amount of noise and mayhem.

The room was some kind of temple, it seemed. At one point, Alin later told me, the place was used to worship Ioun, but these miscreants had defaced all of the previous religious symbols with those of their draconic goddess, and at the far end of the chamber, across a small channel that separated it from our starting positions, was a large pile of treasure, obviously the reason these apparent vagabonds were able to have some adequate weaponry, but also where all the money that weaponry could earn for them was going. Directly before this pit was the leader of this little band, an absolutely filthy man who had taken the title of the Filth King. Whether he was a legitimate priest of Tiamat's or he had simply taken to her tenants and begun gathering a cult around him I was unsure at the time, but nevertheless he seemed to be the one keeping this group going in the first place. 

Without a second thought, Alin ran directly at the Filth King, using his prestidigitation to instantly clean the man up (rather well, I might add, it even combed his hair!) to shame him in some way, before teleporting once again and unleashing another swirl of space-bending magic upon the room. This instantly killed two of the beggars, and everyone else was sent cascading into the pit. This was a brilliant move tactically, as it gave us the high ground against a foe that might have otherwise been quite a problem (despite his ragged appearance, the Filth King did wield some fairly powerful poison and divine magic), but it also ended up causing us quite a bit of trouble down the line. As Mayim charged forward to kick her foes while they were down, attempting to clamber out of the hole they'd been dumped in, she did comment that the thing was full of corpses in varying stages of decomposition, stating that it was a disgusting sight. Several people beat me to telling her that she dealt with corpses on a semi-daily basis, having probably created more corpses than this over her lifetime. "That's different!" She cried in response. "Those are my corpses! I know where they've been!" The remaining beggars and the Filth King seemed nonplussed by this comment. 

Unfortunately, just as things were wrapping up, everyone of import being relegated to the pit and on their last legs, there was movement from the treasure pile. It seemed that Alin treading on the golden stash had triggered some sort of magical defense, as the whole thing reared up and assumed the form of a five-headed dragon, bellowing with the sound of cascading coinage, with teeth made of daggers and gems and hide of literal gold. Not having much choice in the matter, we attacked..."

 At this point, the narrative cuts off once more, this time with a different stain. There is a small note jotted to the side in the common tongue, but in Nehl's handwriting.

"Damn that Alin! First a beer and then this vial of blood! If he weren't such an asset to this team I would likely have torn out his throat by now! His shenanigans are getting out of hand..."

Nehl Brisby - Ambushed by Beggars

Sometimes I'm amazed at the fact that the Copper Fang, sometimes known as the Heroes of Overlook, even managed to survive the adventures that earned them their fame. In most sources, they are described as paragons of their kind, a band of brothers and sisters who were as indomitable in character as they were ferocious in combat, yet all I can see from Nehl Brisby's journal is a collection of sociopathic misfits with a taste for violence and an uncanny ability to attract it. How any of them managed to survive long enough to retire from the party is beyond me... Nevertheless, their results speak for themselves.

"Soon after our meeting with the Githzerai underground, we left the warehouse to prepare for the visit to the noble's home. I was quite excited to once more be among my peers (whether or not they considered me as such), but my hopes were quickly forced from my mind as we were faced with a rather large party of men dressed as beggars, but equipped like a militia. As if that sight weren't odd enough, all of them began laughing like madmen as they rushed us with hostile intent. Were it not for the expensive weapons they were using and that aforementioned laughter, I would have assumed that these rabble were simply this town's 'thieves guild' analogue, attacking any who appeared to be better off than them and redistributing the wealth between their members. As it was, however, everything seemed like it might have had a darker meaning. Assassination, possibly, but the large group of them and that maniacal laughter implied something less... natural. A cult, perhaps? An army of the weak-minded directed by some sinister power? In the moment of the attack, these facts mattered little, but they intrigue me now...  

I assumed my more rat-like form, hoping perhaps to frighten or intimidate some of these lowlifes into fleeing or surrendering, but it was to no avail. Their onslaught of attacks and laughter did not lessen, and after one attacked me with a throwing star, I fell upon him and quickly ended the fool's life, draining some of his life-force for later use. I should have been more careful with this, as I will mention later, but it was a rash action brought about my pain and indignation. It was at this point that I learned precisely why the Copper Fang have made a name for themselves. What they lack in mental faculties (in some) and tact (in most), they more than make up for in power, ferocity, and quick, tactical action. In a matter of moments, the Wizard, Alin, (probably the most insane of the bunch, though quite intelligent and not nearly so viscious) had whipped most of the vagabonds into a neat little line, joining them in laughter the whole time, allowing Mayim (who I believe I have done a disservice by not mentioning how truly terrifying she is beyond how much she seems to disregard life and property in general) to blast into the air with an explosion of electrical energy, only to come right back down on their heads with another, finishing many of the poor folk right there. Had I not been in a minor battle frenzy myself at the time, I might have been a bit frightened at how efficiently deadly this group was, even when taken individually. As it was, I simply did my best to tear apart those who had been impudent enough to attack us with no explanation, harvesting their blood for strength. When the chaos died down, only one beggar remained. It seemed that without his little troupe, he found the situation far less funny, turning to flee down the many alleyways. It was at this point that I learned that even the silent one, Nathaniel, has a bit of a mean streak. He took off after the fleeing beggar faster than anyone in plate should be able to move, aiming to strike his opponent in the back as they ran. His aim in the tight corridors was off, however, and the target was instead incinerated by a bolt from the rooftops, which Mayim had somehow managed to access in the course of the battle...
The noise of our combat drew out one of the Githzerai we had been talking with earlier, who seemed more saddened than surprised at the attack, claiming that this was not the first time such a thing had happened. The beggars, it seemed, were quite happy to set upon the Githzerai on sight with insults and bullying in support of the Githyanki noble we were to meet later on, though the reasons for their loyalty to him were unclear. Though outright attacks like this one were rare, especially on this scale, they were neither unheard of nor unexpected. While she was explaining this to us, the Gith woman managed to help us with another confusing fact. The bodies of the beggars, beneath the layers of grime and filth, smelled quite strongly of various spices, the kinds of which would be high above the budget of beggars like them, expensive weapons notwithstanding. There just so happened, we were told, to be an old spice shop not far from here that had long since been abandoned as its clientele dried up and those that lived in the area started stealing rather than purchasing their wares. It had been boarded up for long enough that it was not unlikely that some sort of hideout could have been built beneath its foundation. Thanking the woman, we prepared to head out. Before leaving the courtyard we'd been ambushed in, however, we made an interesting discovery.  

During the fight, there had been a strange force that would push and pull anyone in our party towards a moderately lavish fountain in the center of the yard. I had assumed that the well was in some way enchanted, acting out against us as we killed citizens of the town within the courtyard where it was set. Perhaps something to assist in the capture of would-be murderers. I was informed by our Artificer, Aelon (I foresaw many complications between his name and Alin's in my future), that the source of this otherworldly force was, in fact, one of the fighters themselves. Particularly one that was carrying an odd orb. When we attempted to pick up and examine the artifact, it crumbled to pieces in our hands. However, Aelon was able to discern that it was some sort of holy relic, though he could not identify the god or gods to which it belonged. If it were being wielded against us, I reasoned, it at least could not be one who we worshiped. That ruled out Pelor (to whom I still clung to in hopes of one day curing my affliction) and Moradin (worshipped by the fighter, Nathaniel). This was something interesting to ponder, but the pantheon in these parts was large enough for that small limitation to be of little use to us now. Putting aside that information for a later time, we continued onward to the spice shop.  

Once there, we did indeed find the building boarded up, and quite thoroughly at that. From the architecture, I would guess that the place was built when its owners were quite wealthy, but unfortunately the degradation of the area's economy had struck it quite hard. As I admired the building as a whole, Mayim had moved forward as if the break down the door, only to prove surprisingly cunning as she poked and prodded and fiddled with a variety of seemingly-innocuous knots and nails in the wood of the boards covering the door, causing the entire thing, door-frame included, to swing outward and allow us entry. It being obvious at this point that we were dealing with a group with considering mechanical skill, I decided to move in, slowly and alone for the moment, to sweep the area for potential traps. While Aelon liked to point out that he was sharper-eyed than I, the darkvision allowed by my undead state would aid me in the search considerably. Ah, speaking of which, I had an intervening story to tell... 

It is true, I am a vampire (if it weren't obvious earlier from my blood-harvesting tendencies). It is a fact I normally try to conceal, but in the heat of combat I am apt to forget the stigma and fight on instinct rather than fully rational thought. Before we had actually reached the spice house, we had taken a moment to rest up from the scuffle, and I had offered a few vials of the blood taken from the beggars to Aelon for his alchemical works, which he apparently used quite often to assist the party and ease their wounds. At this offering, he recoiled. I had been too open, and he had quickly pieced together the meaning of my combat style, my harvesting of my opponents, and several of my physical features that quietly spoke to my true nature. When he announced my status as a vampire, the rest of the party took note immediately. To my surprise, they did not immediately move for their weapons or start to attack. Indeed, Alin and Mayim seemed perfectly content to work with me simply by the merits of my combat prowess and willingness to work with them. The fact that I hadn't tapped any of their blood yet was, to their minds, proof enough that I could be trusted. While I neglected to mention the fact that feasting upon them was, at times, tempting, and could actually be of great use to us as a party should I be grievously wounded and weak enough to be unable to recover on my own, this show of solidarity, even to one as new to their company as I, was slightly touching. The fact that the two of them were obviously mad, on the other hand, lessened the impact of their trust a bit. Nevertheless, on their word and the lack of objections from Nathaniel and Saffron, the Genasi, Aelon grudgingly agreed to let me stay, and even accepted my offering of blood, though he mitigated that with a muttering of, "If this tainted blood corrupts or kills you all, I wash my hands of it!" Or something to that effect, at least. Anyway, back to the spice shop... I didn't search long before finding a trap door in the floor of the dark, cobweb-and-rubble-filled shop, but at the same moment I found quite a few trip-wires and the holes for a very painful spike-trap guarding it. I quickly moved to disarm the dangerous contraption, but Mayim approached, probably on Aelon's suggestion to see what I was doing in the dark alone, and nearly set off the damn thing in her attempts to 'help'. Thankfully, I managed to jam the mechanism shortly before she would have filled us both with spikes, needles, or whatever it was that the trap would have shot at us. She seemed apologetic (which isn't something I had ever expected to see on that face), and joined me at the trap door as we moved to investigate its secrets.  

Beneath the panel there was a small passage. While Mayim was small enough to traverse it easily, it was slightly more cramped than my human form could comfortably navigate, so I assumed the form of a rat and moved in first. The tunnel was short, trap-less, and ended with another trapdoor. It was obviously locked, and Mayim moved for some lockpicking tools to try and open it. With my darkvision, however, I was able to make out the lettering on a small panel to the side, which said "Give and you shall be given to" in the common tongue. Making a small intuitive leap, I snuck a coin from Mayim's pouch as she remained focused on the door and carried it to the slot below the panel's text (I would have used one of my own, not being cheap despite being used to affluence, but my animal form precluded the use of pockets). To our excitement, the door swung open! We called the rest of the party to us and moved on..."

At this point there is a large stain of some sort in the journal, possibly mead or ale, and whatever is written beneath it is illegible, although it appears the narrative here was re-written on the following page. However, as it was getting late by the time I had translated this portion, I turned in for the night, deciding it was an excellent stopping point. I do so enjoy these sort of cliff-hangers!

The First of Many - Nehl Brisby Joins the Copper Fang

From left to right: Alin (Human Wizard), Diane (Goliath Warden - Retired), Arine (Pixie Bard - Retired), Gar-chomp (Dragonborn Barbarian - Retired), Aelon (Eladrin Artificer), Mo'Kaw Nehl Brisby (Rat Hengeyokai... "Adventurer"), Mayim (Halfling Sorceress), Nathaniel (Human Fighter), Marseer (Human Warlock - Retired)

Welcome, dear reader, to a Phisherman's Tales. As a humble archivist, I shall endeavor to present to you, in the most detailed way possible, the exploits of many a strange adventurer from across the multiverse, either from outside research and observation or in their own words.

This first series of stories come from a group called the Copper Fang, specifically from the individual who was left out of the image above, though added in by someone with no respect for the original work. He writes in a phonetic variant of Goblin for some reason, possibly to deter those who would read over his shoulder... His tale is nevertheless quite fascinating. Late to the party, this ex-noble seemed to have no idea what he was stepping into...

"Day 1:
My acceptance into the Copper Fang (or is it Bronze? I've heard it said both ways since meeting them) was swift. It seems these adventurers trust the word of their avian compatriot quite thoroughly. It is lucky for them that he has such excellent taste in mercenaries.

This is quite the motley assortment of rabble I've joined up with. A halfling with an obsession with lightning who claims to be half goliath, two humans -- one of whom is almost entirely silent, while the other rarely shuts his mouth between the incessant nonsense and the insipid observations he makes about the world around him -- a Genasi who has been with this group only a short while longer than I, and an Eladrin. The last of these appears to be the group's unofficial leader, keeping his companions in good health and handling many of their interactions with inns and shops. For the best, I'd say, considering the states of mind of these... I hesitate to call them 'people', as they seem far more interested in the violent sides of keeping the peace over the diplomatic one. Again, probably for the best. If this were a group of wandering diplomats, my services would likely not be required.

Speaking of this company's tendency for violence, I could not have been with them for more than a few hours before I witnessed their attempts at restraining it. After I offered a bit of assistance in getting a few refugees into the city (Githzerai, apparently), we followed them to a darker side of town and into an old warehouse, where a whole contingent of them were waiting. These people seem to be insurgents in this city, fighting against a corrupt, oppressive ruling class (as if there is ever any other kind of ruling class, according to the rabble). The halfling, who I have since learned is named Mayim, interrupted some of their battle plans, announcing that they, and by association, I, had been invited by a noble that very day for tea and discussion of their exploits as the Heroes of Overlook. Upon learning that said noble is a Githyanki, however, chaos began to break out. Apparently the Githyanki and Githzerai, at least in this region, are mortal enemies. This is not something I had picked up in my travels, but that's beside the point...

Mayim, taking on the role of party spokeswoman for the moment, seemed to take her suddenly-acquired responsibilities quite badly, screaming quite loudly at the assembled parties to 'shut up and let [her] think'. Charming. Nevertheless, it got the job done, and a plan was formulated: We are to attend this invitation to tea as cordially as possible (which I believe spells disaster for at least a few of our number) and see what the nobles in attendance have to say about the matter. No doubt they will deny any allegations of mistreating the lower classes, as would any noble met with such accusations, but perhaps we will be able to intuit more from there... Or perhaps we will just slay them all. I would expect no less of this group. Perhaps I should charge more than my single share from them for my services...

Nehl Brisby III"

There is quite a bit more in this journal that I have yet to thumb through. It seems that the Copper Fang were either quite successful in their enterprises beyond this point, or else they failed and what follows is simply the next poor soul to have found this tome. My curiosity is piqued... I will resume translating at once!