Dungeons and Dragons: The End of Our Tal Dorei Campaign, and My Thoughts About It

I started our year-long Tal Dorei campaign last May as Large Silent Friend, a Firbolg Druid who had been banished from his village as an adolescent for unwittingly smothering a miraculous creature he was bringing back to his village to show everyone. He followed the Blood Hunters Banlys and Trogg into the city of Tal Dorei having no idea what would happen next. My reasoning with this character was that he could be a fish out of water, sort of like a Crocodile Dundee, and present a counterpoint to everyone else's reaction to the city. This never manifested in our campaign at all. 

Large Silent Friend

Our campaign ended this Tuesday after I took the Dungeon Master seat three months ago and drove it home with a fairly cliched storyline where Asmodeus used the vacuum of power inherent in the Tal Dorei system to reunite with his son Graz'zt, and manipulate the party into destroying anyone who could have stopped him, culminating in a final battle where the party decimated Vox Machina.

They made it fairly easy by snagging the Hand and Eye of Vecna, then all separately agreeing to deals that would have them killing off Asmodeus' only real competitor, the Mother of Ravens. The player who portrayed Pliz'skin, who was the one who took the Hand of Vecna at a black mass, then bargained with Iggwilv for the Eye, was a real joy to watch play, because he just bulled forward at every opportunity, and never asked or cared if anyone was going to follow. It was a damn lot of fun to watch someone play it that way, and really fit in perfectly to how I wanted to finish this campaign.

Which dovetails into my review of Tal Dorei. I start by saying I didn't read the sourcebook. It just wasn't very interesting, but I did assimilate the part about how the gods of Exandria had been banished. This story point led to what seems like the obvious end to any Tal Dorei campaign. Once any godlike entity anywhere in the Multiverse gets wind that there are no gods in Exandria, they are naturally going to want to fill that vacuum and seize power. When our original DM, the magnificent Travis Legge, allowed the campaign to veer into Waterdeep: Dragon Heist, then The Dungeon of the Mad Mage, the die was really cast. The gate to the Forgotten Realms was opened, and the party actually moved Trollskull Alley into The Cloudtop District of Tal Dorei, and opened Trollskull Manor, renaming it Trogskull Sporksbar, after two characters who had died in battle. For the second half of our campaign it could be said we were always in the Forgotten Realms. 

And if you're in the Forgotten Realms, the gods, devils, and demons are NOT banished. Halaster Blackcloak found a way to open a portal and invite Graz'zt and Iggwilv through, and from that point on it was a ll a matter of corrupting the players for three months into doing their dirty work until they brought through the Lords of Hell, a convoy of Hellfire Engines, and legions of lower devils to take over the entirety of Exandria.

It is natural the final battle would be with Vox Machina, the previous heroes of Tal Dorei, who remained Chaotic Good for the most part, and played a prominent role early in the campaign, even lending the party their vestments. I haven't watched the Critical Role podcasts, but the Vox Machina had several tactical weaknesses in the composition of their party, not the least of which was some confusing multi-classing, and they after four rounds of combat really presented no resistance to our Planescape Tuesday's party. 

I think they may have been more composed for entertainment than actual D and D playing. 

One of my interesting takeaways is that even after having killed Vox Machina, a group of celestials playing a Stryper song in their bar at a battle of the bands, and having plunged the city into the iron fist of Asmodeus, the party didn't consider themselves evil at all.

I'll admit after one character foisted the Hand and Eye of Vecna there really wasn't any going back, and all they could have really done was confront and overwhelm him. Otherwise, they just had to go along and get along, which they did. It presented some real difficulties for me as a DM because I had four characters who were either leaning Neutral Good, or at most Neutral, and one character who was now literally the Hands of the Devil. 

I also broke one of the cardinal rules of being a Game Manager and asked if I could play my own character, Large Silent Friend, as I really just wanted to join in the fun. They agreed. It wasn't as much of a burden as I would have thought. Mostly he just hung out and wild shaped so he could absorb tons of damage. 

On a personal level, getting to sit in the Dungeon Master's seat right as I turned fifty was a bucket list item. The first week I was so overwhelmed and nervous all I could think to do was have have Halaster compel the party into an auditorium where they fought an identical party composed of simulacrums of  themselves created by the lich Trobriand. This was a fun battle and allowed me to play them against them, so I learned a good deal about their abilities and weaknesses. The next week they went to Trobriand's Graveyard and tracked down Trobriand, played by Doobie Brothers singer, Michael McDonald, and almost managed to kill him aboard his prime creation, The Shockerstomper. I say almost because Trobriand cast a Meteor Storm at the end of the battle and killed everyone but Pliz'skin and Zox Clammersham, who brought them back with a Wish spell. 

Shockerstomper, helmed by the Lich Michael McDonald, er, Trobriand, designed by Jack Mathews

I remember my first foray into Dungeons and Dragons took place at the height of the Satanic Panic, and we were banned from playing at school, then one by one, in the basements of our friend's houses. In the end all I had was the books, and no one to play with, until I came home one day and mother had burned the books. 

I'd have to say waiting over thirty years to play again, then getting to Dungeon Master a campaign, was damn sweet. 

Tal Dorei is fine. I'm not looking to bash it. The city is a totally solid place to base a campaign. But you'll probably end up somewhere else before it ends. Of course, that's almost always true in the Multiverse that is Dungeons and Dragons. Can't wait to sit in the DM seat again.


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Tal' Dorei Week Three: Solving the Mystery of the Raven Feathers and the Shit-Eating Senator

As we waited for the mysterious monk Pliz'skin to exit Gilmour's Glorious Goods we agreed to all go to our respective temporary living quarters and meet up in the morning to pay the Tiefling Amnon a visit.

Little did we know (or still know, technically), the Senator Tyronious was returning from a meeting with his fellow public officials in Syngorn to discuss their policy towards the Emerald Tower, which had until recently been of no real tension between Emon and Syngorn. But on his way back to the capital city of Emon to keep the meeting with the Arcane Master he was meant to show up at two days ago, and who knows what other secret business, the good senator and his entourage was ambushed on the normally safe road between the two cities by a gaggle of orcs and goblins demanding a toll in order to pass. Not wanting to divulge that he was a senator, Tyronious agreed to pay the toll of two gold pieces per head, but also took the opportunity while dealing with the dumb creatures to employ his wile to gather information. Claiming he was sent by General Bloodfist, he managed to pursuade the orc leader to divulge the location of the main Ravager camp. He was then given a highly out of character salute by the orc leader, who he rewarded with two extra gold pieces. 

Meanwhile, back in Emon, the party gathered at Spork's office to discuss how to approach Amnon. It was soon agreed we would strongarm the Tiefling in an attempt to gather information and retrieve both Sean Gilmour's stolen artifacts and Kaeleth's missing journal pages. But upon arriving at the small house it seemed to make more sense if a stealthy person poked around a little bit to get the lay of the land before we descended like an army of noisy hobgoblins all willy nilly. Inspecting the perimeter of the house, the self-selected stealthy personage, Pliz'skin, discovered the house completely dark and apparently empty, but also smelled out a trail of blood that led into a basement. Two creatures had enetered the domicile an hour before dawn, perhaps two Tieflings, or maybe even a Genasi. Returning with his report it was decided he would simply knock on the front door while the gentle Druid Large Silent Friend and the mighty Goliath Trog would wait at the back door in case anyone decided they wanted to leave in a hurry. The Blood Hunter Banlys perched on the roof to gain a bird's eye view of the entire scene. 

Amaris volunteered to knock, reasoning that one Tiefling would not seem as threatening to another Tiefling. Pliz'skin concurred, and transformed himself into a Tiefling also with the Hat of Disguise he had obtained under questionable circumstances at Gilmour's Glorious Goods. The door opened, but only a crack, but upon seeing Torie, the Tiefling woman who had began to open the portal hastily slammed it. Torie shouted "That's Chastity," the Tiefling who had defeated the detective Spork in a battle of brains two nights previous. "Go away" came a raised voice from behind the door. The two Tieflings and mysterious monk disguised as a third Tiefling did not go away.

It was at the same moment the back door flew open and yet another Tiefling made an attempt to bolt from the building. A failed attempt, as a gentle Firbolg Druid and rather unamused Goliath were waiting for just such a happenstance. Ironically it was not the frightful Goliath, but the lumbering Firbolg who managed to wrap the scurrying creature up in his arms and assure him he would not be harmed if he simply co-operated. The fell creature did not co-operate, and instead also ignored Trog's demand to surrender, lashing out at Large Silent Friend with the dagger he held in both hands. 

In front Pliz'skin had barged his way into the house, and right behind him Amaris cast a spell that caused Chastity to recoil in fear. Unsatisfied, Pliz'skin raised his hand and sprayed the terrified woman with a noxious cloud of gas that sent her to the floor writhing in pain until she lost consciousness.

I'm not saying Pliz'ssssskin is a Yuan Ti, but I'm also not not saying it

At the same time in the back, Banlys had shot a crossbow bolt at Amnon, which revealed he was wearing an armor made out of the skin of other creatures. The wriggling Tiefling managed to slip out of Large Silent Friend's embrace, and was rewarded for his effort by a thunderous hammer blow to the knee provided generously by Trog. However, the response was far from what one would expect from one whose knee had just been demolished by a thudding strike from a giant hammer. "It's about time," the lamentable creature murmured, appearing to enjoy the pain. Soon after Banlys' battle axe slashed his midsection, exposing more of the makeshift armor he had apparently cobbled from the skin of other beings. Grinning, and seeming to enjoy the skirmish more and more the bloodier it got, Amnon sprung up and flailed at Trog with both daggers, narrowly missing. He took this opportunity to turn tail and run, rounding the corner of the house and out of sight. Large Silent Friend followed.

Inside Pliz'skin, following a faint trail of blood, was led to stairs descending into a basement. Festooned along the stairs leading down was a grisly discovery that might have sickened a less unfeeling creature: the stripped hides of what seemed to be several humanoid creatures, cured with mint and pine cones to disguise the nauseating smell. At the bottom of the stairs Pliz'skin saw the body parts of many creatures strewn about as if the were merely discarded pieces of trash. He also saw a door on the other side of the room. Large portions of creatures that had been ripped apart were suspended from chains and hung fom the ceiling. The steely Pliz'skin concluded whoever had done this was a demented, dangerous fiend, and decided it would be a good idea to go back upstairs and tie Chastity up while she was still incapacitated by his noxious gas.

Outside, though, Amnon was not about to be subdued. or so he thought. Following close behind as he attempted to round the corner of the house, he came face to face with Amaris, the coroner's assisstant, but before she could cast the Cause Fear spell she was chanting LSF cast Thorn Whip and ensnared the serial killer in a lasso of thorns, pulling him to the ground. It was at this very moment Trog took advantage of the doomed creature's prone state to deliver a resounding blow to its spine. It was a blow that would have caused most to reconsider the path they have chosen in this life, but undaunted, the wretched soul remained true to his ill-advised plan to suffer an epic ass-whooping and spit back at Trog with Hellish Rebuke. His effort was repaid with another slashing blow across the back courtesy of Banlys' great axe. He laughed maniacally, but dropped his daggers and said "I yield. I yield."

It was at this moment Pliz'skin appeared, apparently having decided if Chastity died she would be of little help answering questions, so he dropped her at Large Silent Friend's feet to be healed, and took advantage of being unencumbered by her weight to take a running start and head butt Amnon into unconsciousness. It is said by some that Amnon's daggers were inscribed "Mother" and "love" in Infernal, but such rumours are mere speculation as the daggers instantaneously seemed to disappear. 

Trog immediately began questioning Chastity in his Goliath accent which sounds a lot like a Russian accent. It seemed the main gist of his line of questioning was "What the fuck are you doing here, and why?" Chastity broke down immediately and said something about just trying to save the world from darkness, then asked if we really wanted to interrogate her right here in the open. That made sense, so we carried all of those who no longer could carry themselves down the stairs into the torture dungeon. 

Chastity the Psycho Tiefling who thinks she is saving the world from evil by committing unthinkiably evil acts

Once in the privacy of the two butchers' macabre work room, Chastity once again repeated her assertion that everything that was being done here was merely an attempt to save the world from an encroaching evil. "Well, not Amnon", she said, "he's just a psycho." Which the psycho confirmed himself after being welcomed back to consciousness by a slap of Trog's meaty backhand to the chops, by responding to Trog's question about the torture dungeon by saying "It's a hobby." Bad answer. But he did confirm that all of this was an effort by Chastity to "Save the world," and that what they were really trying to do was "build somebody." He was merely living out his fantasies by committing the murders and gathering the body parts at Chastity's behest. 

Turning to Chastity, Trog motivated her to reveal her evil intentions. "There is a darkness consuming us. We come here (to Emon) to find orcs and goblins and evil everywhere. And the heroes of our age (Vox Machina) will do nothing about it." She revealed a dark obsession with each member of the Vox Machina, and blamed them for doing nothing as an evil crept into the world. 

But the door. What's behind the door Trog asked. 

"The door is not locked," she replied. 

Before Large Silent Friend could cast a cantrip to protect his Goliath friend, the intrepid Goliath had entered the room to discover a table containing a partially finished flesh golem. A flesh golem that appeared to be a very rudimentary and amateurish attempt to mimic a half-elf with blond hair. But why a half-elf.

Without coercion or even a twist of the wrist Chastity proudly blurted out: "We  are trying to bring back Vax, the only hero of the Vox Machina who ever tried to save this place."

Trog asked the obvious question we all wanted the answer to. "Was it Kaeleth who put you on this nefarious quest?" She answered curtly that it was her own will to resurrect Vax, and no deception was detected in her words. In fact, she was very outraged that the Vox Machina seemed unconcerned with helping do anything about the current foothold evil seemed to be taking in Exandria.

Trog suggested that perhaps meeting Kaeleth might give Chastity an opportunity to voice her complaints face to face, then asked about the missing pages of Kaeleth's journal, which Chasity conceded that she had stolen, but found to be of no use in her obsession to bring Vax back. Escorted to her room where she claimed she kept the pages by an increasingly impatient Trog, Chastity screamed that they were missing.

Oh, you mean these pages, Pliz'skin hissed, producing the pages from a fold in his robes and claiming a breeze had blown them onto the floor. 

But what were we to do with these two heinous psychopaths, having seemingly solved the mystery that Torie had originally paid the detective Spork Fastwhiler two gold pieces to solve? Shouldn't we really get those two gold pieces? Should we really take them to Greyskull to meet a vengeful Kaeleth who would almost assuredly kill them in a fit of fury? 

Amaris said there was one person we could ask for advice: Professor von Schlezzler, head coroner of Emon and her mentor. More advice is sometimes better than less, so Amaris called von Schlezzler on her sending stone, and he advised her that Kaeleth would be unmerciful if we brought these two to Greyskull. He recommended turning them over to the proper authorities, but if there's only one thing every member of this party agrees upon it's that there are no proper authorities, a credo Trog was about to demonstrate abundantly by bringing his hammer down on Amnon's neck. 

But only an instant before he delivered the certainly fatal blow, Pliz'skin intervened to remind him we still hadn't recovered the items he stole from Gilmour's Glorious Goods, and without those items we wouldn't receive the reward we were promised by Sean Gilmour for their recovery. Ever open to the voice of reason, Trog inquired politely about the location of said stolen items, and learning their whereabouts brought down the hammer flush on the mad butcher's neck with a crack. Was he still enjoying the whole bloodbath at this point, we had no idea, but as for us we had accomplished all of the tasks that had been set before us and were off to collect our rewards.

But which reward to collect first? Sean Gilmour's promise to pay us for the return of his purloined items, or Kaeleth's implicit promise of recompense if we returned the journal pages.

We surmised the easiest order of operations would be to schlep the Tiefling off to Greyskull to meet Kaeleth, then head to Gilmour's to collect our reward. 

Somehwere else in the city at that exact moment a senator from Syngorn named Tyronious had called a press conference where he had summoned The Minister of Defense and other top officials, who were obviously concerned about what he would say. Tyronious said he was there to recount the incident on the road from Syngorn to Emon, and to warn the assembled press of the impending threat from the Ravagers. Relating a semi-accurate retelling of the actual incident, complete with a harrowing tale of how he was beaten nearly to death by Ravagers, and forced finally to survive in a ditch on a diet consisting only of his own tears and horse shit, Tyronious weaved a spellbinding tale of dark hordes slowly descending upon the civilized cities of Exandria, and concocted a call to action meant to stir all citizens into a frenzy of fear and hypervigilance. In mid rant Tyronious spell was broken by the Minister of Defense himself, who called the press conference to a halt and pulled Tyronious aside, saying he was aware of the problem, but could do nothing until war was declared, a small detail Tyronious could help with.

Charging Tyronious with forming a committee to investigate the problem, the Minister intimated to Tyronious that if he could provide the pictures he'd provide the war. Tyronious accepted the offer, and sent out underlings to find his missing senechal Bromm, who for some reason had simply been misplaced.

Probably about the time this meeting was taking place, we arrived at Greysckull, where we saw two Gnome children playing in the grass merrily. Greeting them, we quickly discovered they had no desire to answer any of our questions, and went to get their dad, who turned out to be the renowned Bard Scanlan, who immediately charmed and put us all at ease. He explained all the recent turmoil had resulted in the Vox Machina deciding that they needed to maintain a constant presense of at least one member at Greyskull, and that he had drawn the short straw. 

Vox Machina Bard Scanlan Shorthalt

Ever diplomatic, and not one for beating the bushes, Trog asked if we could speak with Kaeleth. Ever graceful, Scanlan said it may be possible, but definitely chancy to draw Kaeleth's ire. This of course did not phase Trog, who assured Scanlan his request was in earnest, The Bard acceded, but insisted a feast was in order first, and invited us to the war room. Asking his children to retrieve his diamond tuning fork, he tapped it on the table, producing a feast beyond any of our wildest imaginations. As we ate we felt refreshed, rejuvenated, inspired, and incredibly serene. 

After we had our fill Scanlan inquired who was the leader of this mish mash of a troupe, and being the anti-authoritarians we are by nature, none would come forward to claim they held sway over any other of us, so Scanlan's attention fell upon the Tiefling Amaris in a seeming attempt to cajole her into being assertive. "Is this the one responsible for these atrocities?," he said, motioning to Chastity. "And one last time I ask you if you really want me to summon Kaeleth." Amaris nodded, and Scanlan left the room to summon his fellow Vox Machina member. 

Moments later Kaeleth appears, and immediately extends her hand, which results in the life being visible drained from Chastity, who falls to the floor like a dessicated husk. 

"Did you locate my missing journal pages" she asked almost as a continuous action to having drained Chastity of life. Pliz'skin produced some of the pages from the journal, and Kaeleth took and examined them, inquiring if we had read them. We replied that we had not. She said some of her pages were still missing, and Pliz'skin insisted he had found no more pages, she said she would go to the house and investigate herself. "Thank you", she said, "the Ashari and Vox Machina are in your debt." With that she disappeared.

Scalan re-appeared and asked how we intended to dispose of Chastity's body. We said we hadn't intended to at all, and asked if he could do it. He said no, and threw Amaris a Bag of Holding in which to carry the body away from Greyskull. 

We decided our next stop would be Gilmour's Glorious Goods. A  female human clerk greeted us and informed us that Sean Gilmour was away on business, but had left instructions that we be paid 500 gp for the return of his misappropriated propriations. We divided the bounty among the five of us presnt, making each of us more than capable of buying our own places to live in Emon. Large Silent Friend also bought himself a bonzai tree to deal with the loneliness and bewilderment of going from the only home he had ever known in the forest to the bustling capital city of Exandria.

While at Gilmour's we also saw the afternoon edition of the Emon Chronicle, with the headline Shit Eating Senator Says Ravagers To the North. In a dark room somewhere nearby that shit-eating senator was just receiving a report that several centaurs had been found impaled on pikes on the road north to the Throne of the Archheart. What is this shit-eating senator's plan? Will we soon become embroiled in some political intrigue? Are the winds of war wafting into Emon? 

Large Silent Friend's notes: I thoroughly enjoyed this three session whodunnit immersion into the world of Tal' Dorei and the city of Emon. It wasn't until night three that we took up arms against an opponent because our opponent was the dark mystery we were immersed in. This is the third campaign I'm playing with these players. We have been in Planescape, Dragonlance, and now Tal' Dorei. We've meshed as a party and I think understand each other's tendencies and when it's time to let someone else have the spotlight, and when to just hang back. 

Have to get my Tal' Dorei guide this week at Top Cut Comics

After receiving our blessing from Kaeleth and our reward from Sean Gimour we naturally considered our mission a roaring success and decided to buy our own homes and blend in where we thought we most fit into the bustling city of Emon. Trog of course immediately put his mighty hammer up for rent as a sell sword, Pliz'skin went back to his monastary to study the truth, Bromm remained missing-in-action, Banlys slipped off and will no doubt be there when needed, Amaris rejoined Professor von Schlelling, Tyronious plotted somewhere in a back room, and the detective that started it all, Spork Fastwhiler was gone. What had ever become of him? Egad, was he one of the horribly mutilated bodies we had seen in that basement? Had we been thornwhipping, hammering, crossbowing, and great axing his skin only earlier in the day? No matter, it seems certain as these characters try to settle in and make their names in Emon that a call will come from somewhere, most probably soon, for them to re-assemble in order to fight some gathering darkness. 

But until that happens you can find Large Silent Friend, the fish-out-of-water second level Firbolg Druid in the Cloudtop District being gardner and pet trainer to the rich and famous, and pruning his bonzai at night and missing his friends.

Dramatis Personae

1) Large Silent Friend: Firbolg Druid

2) Banlys: Aarakocra Blood Hunter

3) Trog Gunga Galunga (Googie): Goliath Blood Hunter

4) Bromm: Human Fighter

5) Spork Fastwhiler: Human Ranger

6) Pliz'skin: Monk 

7) Tyronius: Half-Elf Warlock

8) Travis Legge. Dungeon Master 

9) Amaris: Tiefling Wizard

Week one
Week two 










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Tal' Dorei Night One Notes From Planescape Tuesdays

Our Tal' Dorei campaign began last night, and none of us knew what to expect as we sat down at the table. I think it's safe to say none of us was expecting a gritty, noir-style murder mystery. Which is what we got.

Taking place some time after the Vox Machina had dispatched the dreaded Chroma Conclave and the bane arch lich Vecna, our campaign begins in an Emon rebuilt partially by the crime syndicate The Clasp, and restored to a thriving city of some 280,000 creatures, mostly human, but with a substantial population of humanoid creatures of all races. A cosmopolitan city with a robust shopping district, government, military, and noble classes, as well as busy docks and slums. The Vox Machina is still with us, but has largely moved on to other pursuits away from Emon, maintaining Greyskull Keep just outside the slums on the Southern side of the city. It is a time ripe for new heroes.  

How we all got to the capital city of Emon is still a little hazy, but the seven of us found ourselves settling in various sections of the city, not knowing each other at all.

My name is Large Silent Friend, at least that's what the creatures of the forest call me, and since I am a Firbolg I have no name but the one I am given by those around me. I was exiled from my tribe as an adolescent when I inadvertently caused the death of a magical creature I wanted to show to my elders. I grew up in the forest guided by the Wild Mother. But recently Ravagers have been encroaching into these sacred lands. And where there is evil, Blood Hunters seem to follow, and that's how I met Banlys the Aarackocra and Trog the Goliath, both Blood Hunters I moved to Emon with last week.

We arrived in Emon on the 11th day of Undular, at the height of the festival, which meant nothing to any of us. We crashed at the meager apartment of  Banlys' and Trog's mentor, Thelius, who was happy to see us, but having two giants and a bird in his small space soon started to try his nerves. We needed to move, but first we needed jobs. Fortunately for us our first opportunity in Emon soon knocked on the door. Literally.

The City of Emon, capital of Tal' Dorei

A former City Guard turned private detective named Spork Fastwhiler knocked on the door and demanded to speak with Thelius. He seemed as if he had just ended up on the losing end of a tussle, and we soon were to learn this was exactly the case. While investigating the strange, ritual murder of a street walker he had been swept up into a mystery that was soon to involve us all. The mystery was soon to entail ritualistic murders, missing hearts,  raven feathers, cults,  necromancers, The Matron of Ravens, the two local crime syndicates The Clasp and the Myriad, and who knows who or what else, but it became clear a chain of events had been set in place that would eventually effect all of Emon, and the entire world itself.

But what part did we play in this Universal imbroglio?

What did Spork already know that he wasn't telling us? What the three of us did know, and we had to take Spork's observations at face value, was that he was contracted by a street walker named Torie to investigate the murder of her friend, named Daisy, in an alley in the dock district near Thelius' apartment. Pouring over the scene, which had already been combed over in a cursory way by a clearly unconcerned City Guard, Spork deduced the grisly murder was actually a much more coordinated and surgical attempt to remove the young girl's heart. And what part did the raven feathers play in the scenario?

His investigation soon led him to the Frozen Sicle tavern where he quickly realized a Clasp member was using a corner table to sell alura root. He learned the Clasp member's name was Dagger, and he was soon to find out why. Following him out of the Frozen Sicle he saw Torie on an adjacent corner, and decided to cross the street and join her to spy on Dagger. Against her admonitions, he followed Dagger to a shabby tenement where the small-time alura dealer was apparently waiting to confront him, drawing both his daggers. But before the two could scuffle a Tiefling named Chastity entered the scene and attacked Spork psychically, causing him to fall to the floor clutching his suddenly aching head. Dagger seized this opportunity to redraw his daggers and "suggest" it might be a good time for the private dick to retreat from the dock district. The bull-headed Spork dug in and was resolute to not accept the recommendation, but Torie convinced him otherwise.

And soon after Spork knocked on Thelius' door. Which is where me, Trog, and Banlys' story begins. However, the story does not start without some bruised feelings, as Spork insulted Trog by referring to him as dumb muscle. I saw my new friend bristle and restrain his rage, being the disciplined creature he is, but I knew the slight would not soon be forgotten.

Spork had questions for Thelius. Questions about necromancers. Questions about the Matron of Ravens. Questions about missing hearts and the Myriad and the Clasp. Being a seasoned Blood Hunter, Thelius knew quite a lot about each topic, but there were aspects of this crime that mystified even him. Further investigation was needed, and Thelius was all too happy to suggest the three of us move into Spork's office for the night pursuant to meeting with a monk of the Cobalt Soul who might know more about the mysterious events that were unfolding. We rested and headed to the Temple District first thing in the morning.

That's where we met Pliz'skin the monk of the Cobalt Soul.

Pliz'skin, Monk of the Cobalt Soul

Was he happy to see us?

Probably not.

Was he hiding something?

Probably.

Steely, cold, and matter of fact, Pliz'skin listened to our story, then was instructed by his master to join us to help solve this mystery. He didn't seem to like us, but he was skilled, confident, and clearly more than capable of handling himself. Our group now included five.

The Druid Large Silent Friend

We were a group set in motion to discover who it was that was seeking dark knowledge.

Dark names and societies dedicated to evil were bandied about. Was it a cult of the Matron of Ravens? Was it the Chain of Oblivion? Adherents of the Scaled Tyrant? Maybe just one solitary madman, albeit a very powerful madman adept in necromancy and ritual. One piece of evidence that could not be overlooked is that the raven feathers had been magically treated so as to not be traced. That was a powerful magic and limited the search to powerful necromancers and certain cults. But it did not limit it to one, and so the search was afoot.

The master of the Cobalt Soul set us on a path to the Alabaster Lyceum. The Alabaster Lyceum is the arcane college and research facility for magical and divine artifacts in the city of Emon.

"The building appears to be built out of white marble, with very high ceilings, stretching up in some areas as high as 80 feet. Much of the building appears to be lit by magical orbs that are either set into the walls or into chandeliers. Some of the rooms have carved pillars depicting battles between devas and demons that spiral up the pillars. The building has guards near the entrances adorned with silver and gold armor wearing elven-like helmets." -from criticalrolewikia 

 So we were off to the Alabaster Lyceum, where adolescent guards refused us entry. We had no written appointment. It was at this time that Trog's anger, still seething from Spork's initial insult. boiled over. He angrily pounded on the force field of the Lyceum and demanded that he be allowed to enter the college of knowledge despite their refusal. The force field held, and we were sent on our unmerry way to seek written permission to enter the arcane college.

Trog Gunga Galunga (Googie) the Goliath Blood Hunter 

Our adventure next took us to the Cloudtop District and the office of the Master Arcanist, Allura Vysoren. A headstrong bureaucrat of the highest order, she also was less than overjoyed to see us. In fact, she was already expecting to meet with the august senator from Syngorn, Tyronius. The only snag is that Tyronius was back in Syngorn with a five day migraine, and had sent his seneschal Bromm to stand in for him. Vysoren was not amused. As the lackey hemmed and hawed, trying to stave off the bureaucrat's rising anger, the conflagration was further complicated by an unannounced investigator's knock on the door. "If this isn't about a murder I have no time for you Vysoren roared," but just as she said those words her sending stone began to glow, and as her eyes rolled back in her head she received the message that the nobleman Kormallis had been murdered in the most grisly and macabre way.

Although Spork's story about the murdered street walker fell on deaf ears, the new revelation that a nobleman had been murdered in a similar manner sparked the overly officious officials' interest, and Bromm was charged with the task of escorting us to the crime scene to investigate and report back the new details of what had now become an official case. We were to meet the detective Marcolas and stay out of her hair while simultaneously doing our own inspection of the crime scene.

This time it wasn't the opulent gentleman's heart that was missing, it was his liver. However, the modus operandi was exactly the same: an expert break-in and entry followed by a grisly mauling and disfiguring of the body, excepting the part of the body that was to be surgically removed, which miraculously remained pristine. Raven feathers had been pressed into the carefully scattered parts and were found under the fingernails. It was a scene that seemed carefully orchestrated to make it appear as if the Matron of ravens was involved. 

Was she? Did someone just want us to think so to throw us off the track?

Spork and Bromm and Pliz'skin culled over the scene of the crime while the rest of us waited outside. They questioned Kormallis' servants, an aged husband and wife, gleaning whatever clues they could from them. On a whim Large Silent Friend decided to talk to the hedge maze and see if the shrubbery had noticed anything unusual the previous night. To his surprise, they did, and told him of two creatures with skin the color of nightfall who had entered through the east door and exited through the west. They asked if they would ever see their beloved master again and were told by LSF that he had passed into the next realm. The Bloodhunter Trog recognized their description of the infernal looking creatures as Tieflings, and the session concluded with us wondering if all of this was related to the Tiefling Chastity who had sent Spork to the floor clutching his head the previous evening.

The session ended with all six of us wondering where this mystery would take us. And what exactly had the Bloodhunter Banlys observed? I am sure there are now six different versions of reality that we must piece together in an effort to work together as a cohesive team to solve this mystery and defend our new home against whatever sinister and dark forces are at work here. 

Dramatis Personae

1) Large Silent Friend: Firbolg Druid

2) Banlys: Aarakocra Blood Hunter

3) Trog Gunga Galunga (Googie): Goliath Blood Hunter

4) Bromm: Human Fighter

5) Spork Fastwhiler: Human Ranger

6) Pliz'skin: Monk 

7) Tyronius: Half-Elf Warlock

8) Travis Legge. Dungeon Master 

9) ?????

Playing Dungeons and Dragons During the Satanic Panic

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