Tales From Carpentaria

Captain's Log - Stardate: 3 years from yesterday
And boy are we hungry...

Imora guided her ship to the “dock” and took in the majesty of such a place. Taking an entire flotilla and turning it into an island refuge was a marvelous idea – though the immediate problems of steering and strong temperature currents refused to be ignored by her calculating mind – and the massive structure built up in the center was part of that marvel. A part of her felt a small bit of sadness. Each of the ships nailed to one another by walkways must long to feel the wind filling their sails, and the wake breaking upon their hulls. While she appreciated the ingenuity, she felt sorry for the galleys who gave up their freedom to make it possible. She had a strong suspicion that her feelings were being moderately influenced by her own ship and it’s uncharacteristicly sudden and rapid development of a persona.

After speaking to the lad at the docks, she proposed her opinions of each restaurant and listened as her crew responded without any commitment to one or the other. Well, she was Captain after all. Reaching into her belt pouch, she began to dole out funds to each of her crew in turn, and then motioned for Ranzwinkle to follow her as she headed to the tower. The poor dear’s been as good as a cast away for the last three years and deserved a meal prepared by the finest chefs in the world. She approached the rising platform, and allowed the gnome the honor of pushing the button. Imora was unable to contain the squeal of delight that burst from her lips as the platform began to rise. Oh yes, if there was time she was going to have to find a way of examining this marvelous device after dinner.

Reaching the restaurant, she paid the man the required sum for both herself and the gnome and performed a double turn to prove that she herself was unarmed. The men gestured to her Hypo-Injector with dubious glares and she gladly checked it at the door. If anyone needed the kind of healing and protection that little device could provide during dinner, she’d have a stern talk with the local authorities about health code violations. The rest of her devices all look like accessories, jewelry or otherwise non-threatening in nature (must’ve been the big needle), so passing through she found a table and then approached the windows to place an order for herself and the little gnome. Imora ordered the fried squid served with a kelp and onion soup, and inquired as to the freshness of their raw fish. Satisfied with the result, she orders several cuts of various fish and some rice cakes as well. Oh, and wine. There must be wine.

Settling in to her meal with Ranzwinkle, she waved over the others of her crew that decided to eat with her, as there was plenty of room at the table she selected. This. This is exactly what she needed. Tomorrow, her search for the rift, and her crew’s quest to do….whatever it is they decide to do would begin anew, and nothing would stop any of them.

~ Imora of Orichalchum

Success! (Glazius)

Ok, today was much better than yesterday. Today I read a book of rituals that this town had performed every 50 years or so, and if they didn’t perform it some pretty crazy things would happen. Anyways, I figured out a lot of stuff about what happened, and found an easier way to take down the next great evil that we had to fight. The whole party performed their jobs perfectly, and before this thing could do a whole lot of crazy stuff to us, Mega-Mord had the huge thing in a Mega-choke hold, and we threw off this guy’s aim well enough to stay alive and take it down quickly. When the ghost turned back into what looked like a little girl, Mord didn’t finish the job, and I knew then why he couldn’t do it. You know, that’s why I respect the guy so much, he has his own code of ethics and he sticks to them. Wilsifer was the one that finally finished the thing off, & it was a good thing too, because I didn’t want to fight it again! After this, the island became bright and cheerful again, and although that threw off our plans to burn this island to a crisp, I’m glad that we were able to do some good here. Oh, and another thing; we finally found our ship so we can leave this island! I can’t wait to get back to the real world and do normal things again. Maybe I can get some robes or magic weapons for my future experiments! Well, time to sleep off all the nightmares that I’ve had recently!

Epos' Daily Prayer #3

Praise Saint Cuthbert! this mighty ordeal has finally been completely and justice has been administered! Granted, Saint Cuthbert, you did not smite the spirit in the white dress when she appeared in the chamber, but now I see that it was for the better. you gave me and my companions the opportunity to fight the evil for ourselves. Now I know what I’m capable of, and knowing is half the battle!

Mord not Murderer!

Mord not like fight. Mord not like violence. Mord like to run and jump and climb and explore. Mord free now, and he do as he pleases. Mord has friends now too. Mord will protect his friends with his body until he can’t fight anymore, and then he will fight more. But when the fighting is done Mord is done. Mord not want to hurt or kill things unless Mord has to. Mord will fight Big Bag Ghosty until it can’t fight anymore, but Mord will not strangle it when it is unconscious. If ghosty come back, Mord will run, and if ghosty attacks Mord’s friends, then he will beat her again. That don’t need to happen though because Wilsifur done killed ghosty forever. He followed the rules for ghosty killing. Mord not like rules for killing, nor being told to kill. Mord is free now.

Captain's Log - Stardate: ????

We’ve defeated the great evil that had taken hold of this island. Thanks to Glazius we learned how to truly defeat the spirit by forcing its manifestation into a corporeal state and performing the same ritual upon it that it had demanded be performed on so many others for so very long. Completing the sacrifice purified all the souls damned by its evil, each taking the form of the very same butterflies that aided us on this island. Beautiful little things…and so very many of them. Each one represented a soul. There were thousands. I think I shall like to be alone for the next few days.

The butterflies brought us to my ship, and it looks much the worse for wear. The damage suggests conflict and little Ranzwinkle only confirmed it. She seemed eager to talk to me when we arrived, so I took her aside and proceeded to have my mind utterly blown.

THREE YEARS!!!! We’ve been on that blasted island for THREE BLOODY YEARS! And in the last few months, my ship has been under near constant assault. Fortunately, it was able to guide Ranzwinkle in providing it defense, and by the debris and sunken hulls that now rest below sea-level near the coast, they both had a good job of it.

It wasn’t without cost…the poor dear lost her leg. My ship, in a completely unexpected and extraordinary fashion provided her with repairs…the only way it knew how. The leg is of magnificent design…some conglomeration of magic and science and biology…though I already see a few areas where I might make improvements…if she’s willing to allow it. Hell, if my ship is willing to allow it. Apparently, the last three years has helped it evolve its consciousness…something I’m quite pleased by. The gnome spoke of Melora, that despite the alterations to her body, the Goddess of nature still grants her favor. We talked a great deal about this Goddess, and I’ve learned much.

It sounds as if much has changed in the world while we were trapped in that hellish place. It’s surely had plenty of time to make those changes without our having a say in it. Either way, I’ll be gathering up the crew once everyone’s had a nice long rest. We’ll need to discuss replenishing our supplies, and I’ll have our stalwart little gnome debrief everyone on what she’s been able to learn about world events. The mere fact that she stayed with the ship, for three years, waiting for us…the strife she’s been through. I owe her a great debt. One I will spend my life trying to determine how to repay. For now, though…there are a great many souls for which to shed tears and offer prayers.

Kojer's Words of Wisdom

Kojer is STRONG!! Kojer SMASHES GHOSTIES! Kojer not fear ghosties….Kojer only
fear ghosties a little bit…like Kojer really really wants to leave island, like now.Kojer 2

We never even saw a good library.

I’m getting off this island. The evil here is weakened and weakening even more since we’ve destroyed all the ghosts and their silly antics… We’re leaving this island, no question. I want to go to a happier place with… happy things. And a bed, too, the tree just isn’t doing it for me. Ohhh, maybe it will have a inn with color! I am done with these plain colors – the washed out, faded grey’s and browns. Even the green of the trees is subpar.

We fought a lot of ghosts in one house. I feel that after we defeated them, everything lightened a little bit. The mood, the air… until everyone tried to burn the house down. Bad idea… We’re on a haunted island with lots of ghosts that get upset if we mess with anything. Burning a house down = disturbing the area.

Failure (Glazius)

Oh Man! I cannot wait to see the day we leave this island. I should not have been napping when the crew decided on a destination. I figured that they would have at least some small scrap of logic between the lot of them, but no! They had to bring us here to here to this crazy island to rot alongside those that have been doing so for a little too long. All I wanted was to read some spellbooks; is that too much to ask for?

Anyways, today we fought another group of ghosts, and I had some nice suprizes for them, but none my spells worked at all. After all these failed attempts I even drew my sword in frustration and charged one of the ghosts that Imora made corporeal, but I couldn’t even hit its backside when it was distracted by Epos. All of this training at the University of Magic, and all of these spells turn out to be worthless. I feel like an environmental engineer trying to block the flow of a huge river.

Why does the crew put even put up with me? At this point I’ve probably done more harm than good. The other day I wanted to help this ghost move on, but Epos almost died trying to save me from it. A few days before that, I passed out after touching these eyes, and the crew had to drag me out of that situation as well. On top of that, who knows how many of my spells have backfired recently. If I didn’t prepare meals for this crew, they would have tossed me overboard weeks ago, and my parrot too!

I wonder if my real parents had moments like this; I’ve only heard of how great wizards they were and of some of the amazing things they did. I had hoped to be like them one day, but that seems to be far out of my reach. I wish they were still alive so they could tell me where I should go from here. Why did they have to die before I could get to know them? And why does my hand glow blue every time I feel this way; it cost me a few friendships in school, and it certainly doesn’t help me now. Maybe talking to Mord or Kojer will help me feel better…

Captain's Log - Stardate: Bloodhound Gang
We don't need no water...

Note for future reference: I hate ghosts. Additionally, I hate islands populated by ghosts. I hate islands populated by ghosts that are cursed due to some stupid adherence to an equally if not moreso stupid ritual involved stupid people. I’ve decided that’s how ghosts get created. I mean honestly, who has ever been haunted by a brilliant or clever person? Just sitting at home making some eggs for breakfast when suddenly the door opens on it’s on own and you hear the whisperings of physics formulas and molecular compositions…ooooOOOoooooooo…. centripetal foooooooorce …aaaaAAAAAAAaaaaaaa. I think my point is clear…intelligent people shuffle off the mortal coil and go somewhere else, like some big eternal vacation spot for spirits. It’s the dumb ones that stick around and act miserable. Well, I for one have had it with this stupidity. Once I’ve secured this ship, no matter what happens, whether we “bring peace to the island’s dead” or “banish the evil spirits that lurk in the shadows” I don’t give a crap. I’m burning it. Burning it with heat and fury and fire and unbridled hatred until the island’s surface turns to glass.

That will be most satisfactory. Failing that, I have a few other ideas….

Now, where did those Orcs get off to….

Imora of Orichalchum, Captain of Luck’s Rake

Subject Scroll #1

As I have grown accustom to this group of miscreants, I felt the need to evaluates and log their most illogical actions. The mind sync with these companions is most troubling as I fear for my sanity being tainted by their infectious minds. That is not to say that these are troubled individuals, they’re just different.
I decided to start with the most graceful hunter who still manages to trip over his own stride and fall one foot in a life or death situations. However to his credit he has managed to keep from screwing up since that encounter. It is quite insulting to hear over and over with the sync up, but like that rest of the group he is a useful tool.

W: So Gunnar thank you for agreeing to be one of my test subjects.

G: Wha..?

W: Nothing, never mind that. Anyways what was your childhood like?

G: Lonely, but because of my struggle I made me so much more skilled and tough.

W: Lonely….., why?

G: Well my parents died when I was a youngling, I was thereby forced to live deep within the forest amongst the various animals and creatures.

W: Interesting, so how did that kind of upbringing affect your capability as a ranger and what does that bring to the team?

G: Well obviously versatility, I am probably the lynch pin in this group because of my good maneuverability as well as a deadly accuracy. I am that much more important because of my lack of an upbringing… The rest of the team didn’t have to suffer like that especially as a kid,…. well maybe all except for Kojur.

W: Hmmm… well that is very interesting.

G: I know, I am….


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