Campaign of the Month: April 2011

Planejammer: The Spelljoined

It's a conspiracy, I tell you!
Just who is trying to kill us today, and for what reason?

Sure, you’re going to tell me it’s all in my head or that I’ve been hanging around the Priests of Osiris too much (hah-that’s a laugh)… but it’s a conspiracy, I tell you! Every time some new group decides it’s their turn to give us heck, I’ve been taking names and doing my best to chart it out to try and understand just what they all have to do with each other, us, and our search for the Spelljammer.

I’ve found through experience that there are no coincidences, and everything is important. So… here’s my madness so far!


- Kenari Sanura

Vedis' Journal Part 1

Journal bar vedis
Note to self: alcohol makes one lose control of one’s emotions, but not disastrously so. I was worried about that. I have seen enough people in their cups to warrant caution when approaching the stuff. Having a few glasses of wine in a temple seemed the safest way to experiment.

I never would have considered it on Bral. One drunken misuse of my abilities could have found me launched from the city before the hangover fully wore off. Much to Devon’s chagrin, it proved almost as destructive: feathers and a broken vase, but no fire.

I daresay the others benefited well enough from my experience around those who had overindulged. You would think they had the presence of mind to down the jugs of water I left beside their pallets before succumbing to sleep, but I am beginning to think they are unfamiliar with the drunken state as I was, previously.

My dreams continue to elude me, or perhaps my distance from the one piece of home keeps the memory of them from finding me. I am, however, undeterred. Morpheus sent me a waking sign and that was much more than I had ever hoped. No matter the resistance, no matter the cost, I WILL see this through until the end, however fate may deem it to conclude. It is, after all, the journey–the dream–that drives us onward, not the waking.

Kenari's Journal Part 3
Boomsticks and Feather Sandwiches

Journal bar kenari
I decided that after hearing the screams of rage and explosions that came from upstairs when Sapphira went to her room, that perhaps staying at her place wasn’t the best idea tonight. I said a quick good-bye to the Tiefling and made my way back to the Celestian temple to see if I could find a cot or something with Lenata.

I didn’t want any of those mushroom things creeping up on my when I tried to sleep anyway.


These acolytes of Celestian definitely have a different feel about them than the usual temple dwellers at home.

Home…I have no idea where that even IS anymore.

But anyway… these people seem much more reserved than the priests I know. They don’t dress in the flashy way of the Osiran priests, and they seem to prefer keeping to themselves more than far-reaching political machinations. Then again, I haven’t exactly gone wandering too far around here to find out. Unobtrusive as they may be, they do have a tendency to stick to you like burrs once you pass through their territory. Maybe once this one gets me to Lenata I can find a chance to explore?

Lenata's Journal Part 2

Journal bar lenata

“Ahhh-chooo”, I had sneezed at least a hundred times since I sat down to research in what must be the dustiest tomes and scrolls in the temple’s library. I bet some of them hadn’t been touched, much less looked at in 50 years or more; most likely due to the obscurity of my subject. While tales of The Spelljammer abound in pub, spaceport, inn and tavern from Grayspace to well, Sigil actual written and verified accounts are not so easy to come by, sigh. At least I had access to writing materials again. I’d had to use my scrolls for tinder in Borovia. (I really should write down as much as I can remember about those hellish days when I have moment.)

After the initial titters and scoffs upon my arrival and initial request for all information relating to The Spelljammer for the most part everyone had been fairly helpful. The older priests listed reference materials and the acolytes dutifully found them and carted them over to me. One even offered to scribe for me for the first four hours but soon abandoned the fruitless search in favor of something a bit less redundant like peeling potatoes. I stretched and walked around a bit when a knock sounded and an acolyte who had been on door duty shuffled in and announced “I believe she’s with you” before hastily shuffling back out again. It was Kenari. I’d been at this for 7 hours and I was tired and famished to go with the frustration. I told Kenari that I’d secured a room and meals for us here and showed her to the quarters appointed to me. It was a simple room, utilitarian with a table and chairs, a desk and 4 bunks. I requested food from the kitchen and soon a servant appeared with some type of roasted game bird, bread, cheese and what appeared to be root vegetables in a cheese sauce. It was delightful and I was beginning to feel human again. I noticed but didn’t remark on it when Kenari smuggled some of the leftovers into her pack. Our previous experiences make such actions prudent, you just never know.

I like Kenari, she’s handy with her bow and she whacked two peoplewolfies, I mean weres, with her gauntlet. (For some strange reason I hear a lot of cursing and stamping in my head when I say “peoplewolfies”) I like our whole party for the most part, in as much as I can like a group of people that, with the exception of Vedis, I know nothing about. The sorceress gives me pause tho, perhaps because we are each others antithesis, or perhaps because of the snarky tone she takes when she speaks to us sometimes. The sword for hire seems fine but is just as closed lipped as Saphira; I suppose that’s to be expected in his line of work. Anyway, Kenari looks like a cat just human sized, I’ve seen a few like her but only at a distance. She’s striking with her tall build and pretty spotted fur, she’s also very distracted by anything shiny. I caught her looking at the Mimir as soon as she came in the room.

“What’s that” she asked.

“That’s the Mimir; a recording device for people who traveled through the Outer Planes. It’s their impressions and experiences but it isn’t necessarily truthful or factual” I replied, adding “Please don’t ask it anything, its rather annoying.”

“Uh, do you think I could ask it where my Gods have gone?”

“I guess but I don’t know if it can answer you, seems like it only knows how to introduce itself and say ‘I do not have possess that information’ ”, I sighed.

“Well, can I ask”, she insisted.

“Sure, go ahead”

“Ahhh, could you tell me where my Gods have gone” she stammered earnestly.

The Mimir began to glow and rose up in the air, shaking slightly. Kenari was mesmerized, I wasn’t so impressed. I had see this show before, it wasn’t necessarily indicative that he possessed any useful information. Its voice boomed “I do not possess that information.”

Poor Kenari, she looked so crushed though she tried not to. I suppose I don’t understand her obsession with finding her long-lost Gods. Then again mine seldom sends an avatar into these realms or interacts with us except through our spells of course. He only wishes us to travel, to explore and discover just as he does. It seems like if the Gods that were once so present just disappeared, perhaps they either don’t want to be found or can’t. But, what do I know of her world anymore than she knows of a spaceport.

She asked me about spaceports and spaceships and how they fly. I gave a general explanation of how it works and how the ships fly. I kept it short as I noticed her eyes kept straying down to my waist and hip.

“What is that shiny thing you picked up” she purred.

Excitedly, I began to explain the Fist of Emirkol I’d found around the neck of a peoplewol..erk, I mean a were. How it worked and that it was a minor relic and how one use can make it disappear.

She stopped me and said, “That’s nice but I meant those”, she was pointing to my twin dragon pistols slung about my hips. “Do you think I could play with, I mean that you could teach me to fire them?”

“Sure, I guess” I huffed “but you’re so good with the bow it probably wouldn’t take long”

We were going to go out to the courtyard but the priests were teaching some sort of class out there. So, somehow Kenari persuaded me to set up the target in the Great Hall. She promised we wouldn’t damage anything with the arrows and that she wouldn’t fire the pistols inside, she just wanted to play with them.

About an hour later Vedis strolled in and was greeted with such a spectacle as I’m sure hadn’t been seen in such hallowed halls. About half a dozen arrows protruded from the target, unfortunately at least as many if not more had connected with the woodwork, the balustrade, the rug and the even the ear of the stuffed, what-ever-it was beastie, that hung over the mantle. Just as I saw her and was about to call out a greeting a familiar, deafening KABOOM rattled the foundation. I should have known better. There on the floor about 10 feet back was Kenari, knocked on her ass, arms still in the air with this gleeful expression on her face. Then the shouts of “What the F*CK was that” screeched from the priest’s quarters. Ah hell, we we’re in for it now.

A full twenty minutes of patient explanations, entreaties, cajoling, apologies, and absolutions later the proverbial feathers had been smoothed and we were still allowed to stay with the understanding that we would “Put those damn things away”. We were shuffled into an anteroom but not before we saw the bevy of acolytes flashing huge grins and thumbs-up signs. We asked for three bottles of wine and some foodstuffs and proceeded to catch each other up as what we had discovered.

I explained to Kenari and Vedis that the actual date about The Spelljammer was fragmented, though the descriptions were fairly consistent beginning nearly 1,000,000 years ago when humanoids began space travelling. Whether sightings were considered good or ill varied from culture to culture for example it was the sighting of The Spelljammer in Greyspace only 10 years ago that heralded the beginning of the Greyhawk Wars in Greyspace. An interesting notation was that whenever any God was questioned about the spelljammer, they fell silent. Also noteworthy were the unsubstantiated and periodic references to an Ultimate Helm. It took different forms from a ring, to a cloak, to a mark but it enabled the bearer to captain The Spelljammer. It also could be considered a death knell as the bearer was soon parted posthumously from his prize, posthaste, which would disappear again into obscurity.

Vedis told us of how she found the Temple of Morpheus after a misadventure with a Gnome named Ruprect and her subsequent fortuitous meeting with the popular and pulchritudinous Kylie, a tiefling guide. (It just figured that the best guide for Sigil would be a tiefling). After she entered the temple and wandered in the mist for a time she finally found the altar, covered with all manner of trinket and treasure offerings. After a short inventory she figured there was nothing she had she could afford to part with except a few gold coins. She placed them on the altar and after a few minutes gave a silent prayer for guidance in her dreams. She turned to leave and suddenly the mists parted for the form of a manta ray with a gleaming city upon its back, frozen in her tracks the smoky form of The Spelljammer passed through her chest. After which she made her way back to my temple. She conveyed that she felt her God had sent her on a quest to find the Spelljammer. I pointed out that since we all now wore the same mark it was likely that the rest of us were on the same quest.

After the wine and food were served by an acolyte named Devon our conversation winded from our individual experiences in the mist, our arrival in Borovia to our impressions of the journey thus far. Devon asked about our brands and asked if we had gotten them somewhere on Sigil. I replied “No, we got them There and now they’re Here.” This puzzled her a bit I think. Kenari asked about procuring a map of Sigil which Devon stated she felt sure she purchase one for us from a mapmaker for about 6gp which Vedis and I gave her. She joined us for a few rounds of wine and complemented us on our earlier distraction. Kenari teased me about always bickering with Sapphira and I railed back about her falling for my enthrall spell. By this time at least two of the bottles were empty and we’d begun to drain the third.

I don’t remember which one of us grabbed a pillow off the bench and swung the first blow but the next thing I knew feathers were a-flyin. It was at this point Devon made a hasty exit. Whap! I felt a stinging smack to the back of my head as Vedis connected. (That’s it, chick, friend or no, you’re goin’ down.) I wound up and with a solid whump knocked her on her sash covered ass and with the backswing knocked the kitty’s ears flat. Of course, in my inebriated state the swings had me slightly off balance and a bit giggly. All of a sudden, Vedis was up and swung her own roundhouse caught Kenari right in the midsection, “OOOPH”. Vedis clutched her own belly and began to snicker. With a pounce Kenari had Vedis on the floor and was tickling her. Vedis flipped her off and reversed their positions but not for long. Within seconds Kenari was back on top and I wound up to swing as this was far too good and opportunity to pass up. Sadly, again due to the wine I unbalanced myself and in my spin missed Kenari and sent my pillow sailing past the ear of Ef Utan who stood taking up most of the doorway. His arms crossed over his breastplate with a smirk on his lips and amusement in his eyes.

We offered him the rest of the wine, which wasn’t much and some food. He said that he’d also asked around about The Spelljammer and it had been suggested that we keep our marks covered and that an expert on the Prime might be able to help. Vedis suggested that Kylie might be able to help locate one in the morning. At that point we staggered off to our sleeping quarters leaving behind a wake of feathers, wine bottles, dinner remains and shards of broken crockery. Within moments of our heads touching the pillows we were all sound asleep.

It only seemed as if an hour, two at most had passed before Devon pounded on the door. Groans of pain erupted as she bustled into the room and threw open the drapes. Light exploded into the room, searing my eyes and causing rainbows of agony to arc inside my skull. I silently began a simple healing chant and the diamond points of pain began to ease. I cracked open my eyes and when no new further agonies ensued I looked to our student de Sade. She had brought with her three bags which she placed on the table saying they belonged to us. The first was full of feathers, which upon remembering the antics of the previous evening made me grin. The second contained the maps we had requested. The third contained the remains of an urn depicting Celestian and starmaps set with crystals. Chagrinned, I set upon the spell of Make Whole. I returned the restored urn to Devon who promised to return it to the antechamber and to bring us hot tea, victuals and for Vedis some ale as she’s a subscriber to the “hair of the dog” theory.

Ef Utan explained that Sapphira would be delayed in meeting with us as she was off to find her father and perhaps kill him, again?! We agreed to start looking for an expert on the Prime with Kylie’s help while we waited. Ef Utan stepped out on the street and asked a few people about Kylie and was told word would get to her and she should find us within an hour. Sure enough her reddish pouf bounced up shortly thereafter. Apparently, finding an expert on the Prime didn’t fall into normal sightseeing/guide-like duties and her fee would be 100 gp, no telling what the expert would want. Vedis said she could cover it. Kylie explained that it would take her a bit to locate such a sage and not to expect her until after-peak the following day.

While we were waiting Ef Utan offered to take us on a side trip through a portal. It sounded like a pleasant diversion so we all followed him down the street to a small courtyard. Off in the corner a section of razorvine had snaked over from the wall to wrap itself around a potted thorny palm creating a sharp edged arc beneath. He stopped in front of it, silently chanted for a moment before tossing a small object into the arc. I watched the air shimmer as the portal opened and ever the gentleman he stepped to the side and motioned for us to go first. With a small pop, we stepped into the hustle-bustle of busy street. Smells of ale and bread filled the air as the din of many voices all talking at once hit our ears. Here was an actual sun, unlike the more diffuse indirect light of Sigil. The day was balmy, sunny and breezy. No one seemed to notice our arrival, odd considering we appeared out of nowhere and even I the shortest in the party towered over the quaint little town of gnomes. “Welcome to Bytopia, they make the best cheese” said Ef Utan.

Ef Utan bought some cheese and bread and I purchased some ale and we made our way park to have a picnic. Ef Utan was right, the cheese was amazing. After our repast in the beautiful little park Vedis got the idea to earn some coin. She set out her cap and began to sing, Kenari began to dance and I began to persuade passers-by to watch our little improv performance and part with a few coins. Ef Utan did what he does best, stood around and looked intimidating. I don’t think we were at risk of being robbed but, you never know. After about four hours we had made 47 pieces of Bytopian silver. Ef Utan explained that to Sages in the Prime this was far more valuable due to it’s (to them) extraplanar origin than where we were staying currently and could be traded for all manner of items or information.

We made our way back to the portal which in this instance was where a willow branches arched over an iron fence. This time, I’m guessing because we were returning to Sigil, Ef Utan took point and entered the portal first. It probably saved our lives. No sooner had we stepped thru the portal the three of us girls walked abruptly into his back with a thud-thud-thud. His eyes were fixed on something in the distance, in a low commanding voice he hissed “Come, no questions, be silent, come with me, now!”

We followed him silently, swiftly as we made our way down the street. Heads down trying to be as unobtrusive as possible; we still caught a glimpse of what had Ef Utan so on guard. In the distance, not more than 50 feet away and thankfully not directly in her line of sight stood a female form. She was easily 15ft tall with a collar of razors and blades, vestments of gleaming edged metal and a fair, fierce face crowned with more shiny swordlike blades. The air was rent by the screams and howls of the six mind flayers that were currently being flayed to death by invisible blades, the silence that echoed afterwards chased us back to the Celestian temple. After we were safely ensconced inside I turned to Ef Utan, “Who was that,” I panted.

He explained she was The Lady of Pain, keeper of the Kreigenstanz (the peace between the Factions). “You asked why this was called ‘The Cage’. It’s because the only way to get to Sigil is through a portal and neither Gods nor their Avatars may enter here. The Lady of Pain enforces this and you witnessed one of the ways how. The best you can hope for is that she never notices your existence.” The shadows over his face and the fear in his battle hardened voice made me shiver and send a silent prayer of thanks to Celestian that he was guarding us this day.

Just then a priest bustled in. Since we were looking at staying and since we’d caused such a debacle with the dragon pistols and the drunken pillow fight (how had that gotten around) they took the liberty of adding me to the duty roster. I had KP duty for 3 hours, beginning in about an hour. Oh, joy. I nodded to the priest; it was fair as we were already staying longer than anticipated, if not the most glamorous job. Could have been worse there’s always laundry or cleaning the privies. My compatriots headed for our quarters and I headed to find the kitchen.

A few hours later with an aching back and sore, squidgy hands I made my way to the room as well and soon fell fast asleep.

That morning as we discussed the day’s agenda and where else it might be prudent to poke around for information Kenari suggested we try to find the oldest library and where might it be. I think it was also her suggestion that we ask the Mimir. Upon query it launched into its light show and for once actually had some useful information. The Great Library of Thoth was visited by one whose impressions had been recorded in the Mimir; apparently they became so distracted and enamored by it they forgot what they came to originally research. The Great Library could be found in the Outlands, so we made note to ask some of the priests if they were aware of any stable portals to the Outlands, the Rock of Bral or Greyhawk.

The priests surprisingly weren’t much help. One of them thought he remembered that there might be a stable portal somewhere in middle of the market that led to Spiral, which was in the same system as Bral, but couldn’t remember its exact location or what the key was. It was suggested that we ask Lissandra the Gatekeeper.

As promised just after peak, Kylie appeared and led us through the winding twists Sigil considers streets. She bounced, she shimmied, waved, bounded and sashayed (How she didn’t wiggle herself out of her outfit, what there was of it, I haven’t the foggiest)…For stars sakes it didn’t seem that there was that fiendish city she didn’t know! She led us followed by a sizable crowd of Kylie admirers to a rundown little building owned by the Sage Gezria. He was a small, gaunt yellow-skinned humanoid with grimy nails and swaddled in robes reeking of incense and singed around the edges, Ef Utan said he is a Githzerai whatever that is. In a raspy voice he asked what he could do for some silly Primes. I asked what he knew about The Spelljammer and waited a few minutes for his laughter to subside he saw that I was serious and began to corroborate about 80% of what I’d discovered in the library, including the stories about the Ultimate Helm. Disappointed we turned to leave and he stopped us.

“One last thing”, he croaked. “The oldest story, far older than written language, about The Spelljammer is that of its birthpladce. Somewhere in a place called the Shattered Sphere or the Broken Sphere.” This seemed familiar, and half remembered bits of Thri-Kreen religious poetry surfaced.

‘Thru Wildspace you’re cursed to roam, broken souls in a broken ship

til last you return to the shattered sphere and when all is whole can you return’

Since he’d offered this last little tidbit I decided to take a chance and show him my brand. “Have you ever seen something like this?” With surprising strength he grasped my arm in his clawed fingers and hauled it under his dusty lantern. He scratched, poked, sniffed and licked (Eewh!) the mark on my wrist. When he started reaching for a vial filled with some unknown bubbling green goo I snatched my wrist back. He cackled and when questioned again said nope, never seen the likes but couldn’t wait to tell the boys at the guild about it. Great, just great, I then got the distinct impression he was f*cking with us. And we’d just paid 100 gp to Kylie and then another 100 to this clown. It occurred to me and not for the first time that we should probably make our stay on Sigil as short as possible.

After we’d finished with Gezria we asked Kylie to take us to Lissandra the Gatekeeper. We’d had a thought earlier to find some other portals (Outlands, Greyhawk, Rock of Bral) and now the Shattered Sphere to visit while were waiting for Sapphira to appear. After a short walk we arrived at a nondescript door in a cleaner, more well kept area of town with a line at least 40 deep. At least it seemed to be moving. Kylie assured us we would be in and out quickly, as the process was you wrote your requests in the book and where you could be reached and they got back to you. True enough we were in an out in 15 minutes or so and made our way back to the Temple. Thankfully, I didn’t have KP tonight.

We were just finishing dinner when and acolyte brought us a scroll. Thinking it was from Lissandra we immediately all started talking at once about where we should go first and if we should or shouldn’t continue to wait for Sapphira. Ef Utan thought we should wait, I reasoned that we were only trying to gather information and planned to return to Sigil and could leave word at the Temple for Sapphira that we’d return and when. She did live there and had a place to live after all. Ef Utan reluctantly agreed just as I broke the seal on the scroll and began to read. It wasn’t from Lissandra it was from Sapphira. Apparently, her father had had her thrown in jail but she was finding a loophole in the law and expected to be out shortly, not to worry. Not to worry?!

I looked at Ef Utan, “Did I mention that I’m a bit psychic?”

With at least the mystery of why Sapphira was taking so long solved, we decided to bed down for the evening and wait to hear from the Gatekeeper

Episode 3
Bytopian Busking, Portal Keys and A Pillowfight

Journal bar loki


Vedis stands before the Temple of Morpheus in the Lady’s Ward staring into the mist that fills its doorway. On one side a statue of a dragon peers down at her while on the other a gryphon statue does the same. Entering the temple she wanders through the mists, images and faces forming and dissipating in the vapors that surround her. Eventually she finds a plain, waist height offering table piled high with a variety of oddments. A wooden toy cockatrice, a scrimshawed cameo, a brilliantly colored feather and more. offering table in Having little else she leaves a few pieces of gold as an offering.

She stands there, waiting to see if there is any response from within the mists. After five or six minutes of noting nothing she turns only to see a vision of The Spelljammer, ten feet across at least, roar through the mists towards her and passingly through her like a ghost.

“Okay, got it, thank you.” She leaves the Temple and has Kylie guide her back to the Temple of Celestian.

Ef Utan guides Kenari back to The Lady’s Ward and the Temple after Sapphira stomps out muttering about how this time she will kill her father. Delivering her to the Temple of Celestian he then heads for the Market to make some inquiries of Planewalker’s Guild members.

Meanwhile Kenari finds Lenata hard at work doing research. Convincing her to take a break the cat-folk steers the conversation to “those strange weapons of yours.” After a while she convinces Lenata to set up a target in the empty temple foyer and show her how they work.

Kenari's Journal Part 2
Touching tattoos and other tender moments...

Journal bar kenari
My father told me stories of fighting the Anhur in the dunes… but I don’t think they’d compare to these strange wolf creatures that raided the Vistani camp. While some seemed normal enough, the two who changed and invaded the camp circle made my skin crawl. They must have been cursed by the gods if even their own appearance reflected their conflicted nature. Curses or no… they thankfully still died the same when impaled on the end of my claw.

I think I need to rest for a minute… my head is still fuzzy from the priest’s droning. Heh… I’d have thought I was still a kitten listening to the priests with the morning litany to Thoth if I wasn’t in the middle of a battle at the time.


I can’t believe he shot me! To be fair, though, I don’t think this Ef Utan has seen someone like me either. It’s a shame, as I had a small hope that someone not from my world might know of more like me. For whatever reason that his bow broke, it was nothing difficult to fix; I only hope that my repairs will improve his aim next time.

The priest keeps finding the pretty things… I wonder if she’ll let me see that strange token she found?


I can’t blame the Vistani for having enough of us; signs are signs, after all… and these werewolves didn’t come till we did.

I don’t see why Sepphira and Lenatta have to bicker so much; it seems common sense to me that we should head to this Borovia… it is the only town around here after all. Hopefully by first light they will have made a decision.


Really? After all that we went through the night before, he wakes me up for a ball of light? I see that the morning hasn’t stopped the bickering… but this time it seems to be about smoke and sea creatures. Who am I to know the minds of such strange companions… as long as we keep moving forward I have my purpose.

When is a door not a door? When it’s a portal, it seems.

Ef Utan’s curious lens seems to let him see writing that my eye cannot; apparently the priest isn’t the only one with pretty things that I must know more about.


Oh my aching head… remind me to never ask strange wisps questions again. Upon investigation, it seems that if you ask a wisp a question they give you a tattoo and scarper.

We all have one, apparently. Could this be a part of the key they were looking for? Seems to make sense, considering the question of it inspired the giving. Ef Utan mentioned something about actions that activate a portal…

“Maybe we should all stand in the ring and touch tattoos together?” I mention as the bickering continues; and here the warrior says I never shut up. They mutter and plan so much… why can’t we just try something and see what happens?

Eventually Lenatta and Vedis touch their wrists together and come to the conclusion that I had what feels like hours ago. Priests… they always have to take the long way to do things.


Now THIS is a bar! No music, though… tis a shame. I haven’t had the chance to dance in so long. I thought I’d seen a strange mix of people living in a port city… but nothing could’ve prepared me for this! That bartender especially… he seems jovial enough, but his beard hisses too much for my tastes. Thankfully Sharinda was helpful enough to point us to this Sigil place. Sepphira and Ef Utan seem eager enough to go there, so it must be interesting at least.


Wet and smelly again… but at least it’s a city! And what a city it is when it stretches as far as the eye can see into the sky and back again. I don’t understand how Sephira says it can function without a Sun, though. If day and night just happen… perhaps they have a god that keeps it so for them?

Lenatta and Vedis want to find her temple to Celestian. I have to wonder that in a place such as this… would my gods be here too? When they left they must have gone somewhere…

At least there are cats here, so this place is not totally forsaken.

Apparently lodgings are in order more than spiritual matters with Sephira. She claims this place is her home… so I guess I will follow the one who knows where she is going.

What is a changed lock when you’ve got a universal key? Sephira’s fathers place is quite the mess, full of parchment and junk. Now that she’s taken care of those strange mushrooms, I must explain to her the benefits of finding a messy home; it’s a lot harder for them to tell when something has gone missing…

Episode 2
But Magic Leaves That Funny Aftertaste…

Journal bar loki


The Werewolf attacks the enthralled Kenari, doing some damage but also snapping her out of her daze in the process. As Vedis’ animated fire sears the flesh from the brute’s leg Kenari uppercuts it with her clawed gauntlet endings it’s life. [First Kill of the Campaign- Natural 20].

Lenata keeps chanting, holding the attention of the enthralled while Sapphira and the Vistani begin killing the wolves before they rouse. Sapphira’s sharp tiefling eyes notice a human sized figure standing enthralled at the periphery of the battleground. As she cautiously approaches she recognizes the person as a freelance sell-sword who has been trying to make a name for himself in Sigil, Ef Utan Izenik. She slaps him out of his daze and he looks around. Eye’s darting back to her he nods, “so, I take it we’re not in The Cage anymore?”

As the two planars compare notes how they got here, “wherever here is,” Lenata begins to search the corpses of the two werewolves. Finding a fur pouch on a thong around the neck of one she opens it. In side is a dodecahedron carved from some sort of bone. On each of it’s twenty faces an unfamiliar glyph is scrimshawed. Closing her fist rapidly the cleric inhales sharply as she recognizes it: The Fist of Emirkol. A legendary relic of chaos it’s precise effects when rolled can range from the apocalyptic to the merely comical. It also has a chance of disappearing after each use. As she reaches down to put it in her pouch she hears the purring voices of Kenari from over her shoulder, “Oohhh! Pretty!”

As the mop up progresses and Sapphira introduces Ef Utan to the rest of the group, the Vistani seem to be gathering in groups and muttering a lot. Periodically fingers point in the direction of our heroes. Lenata and Vedis notice this and let the rest of the group know that that it seems their time at the encampment may well be coming to an end. Shortly after making that pronouncement Bartok, one of the male Vistani who seemed to be on their side, comes over to the group to speak with them.

He apologizes, but the will of the group is that the mist-lost must make their own way. Never before in Borovia have they been subject to attacks by the wolves due to their relationship with Strahd. It takes little logic to equate the attack with the advent of the newcomers.

Kenari's Journal Part 1
The Adventure Begins...

Journal bar kenari
So today is finally the day.

I thought saying goodbye to my home would be infinitely harder than this… but really, what is there left for me? My father is long gone… my goddess has left, and my pharaoh readies himself for war. I’ve since packed my things (thank you father for instilling in me the value of a good pack) and I’m ready to see what lies beyond the horizon.

Just in case, I will wait till night time to leave… the priests may become too inquisitive as why one would leave their “Paradise.” They can keep it. Thankfully those of the cult have accepted my desire to see the world… for if their goddess has left to wander, why not her followers?

Now I just have to tell my father goodbye. I think that will be the hardest part, actually…leaving him alone here. Who will tend his resting place and make the offerings to the gods?

I‟d like to think that he‟d understand why I have to leave. I can only hope that my father is waiting comfortably in the next life for Bast to return.


At first I thought it might have been the Anhur and their shadow magic… or even the Unther preparing to attack from the sea… but now I don‟t know. The mists rose to obscure everything from my sight and even took the sounds away… except for her voice. Could it have been the voice of my goddess, or worse… someone else’s?

This won’t be the first time my people have had to deal with the mistakes of the Gods…and try as I like to leave that past behind, it doesn’t look like it will be my last. Fortunately I don‟t seem to be the only one subject to the whim of higher powers. A silver-haired priest who isn’t old and a young woman who insists on covering herself up; strange contradictions in these two… and stranger words come from their lips; my heart races when I think of what a “star port” could be. All strangeness aside, I would rather stay with Lenata and Vedis than risk the wolves in the mist.

When we are in safer lands, I must ask her what that pretty thing is hanging from her belt.

Yet more seem to be suffering the same fate as ourselves, and are still quite contradictory. Something about Sephira makes my fur want to stand on end… but her actions show something different. After seeing how she took out that peasant without a thought, I think I will try and remain on her good side.

Goddess protect us, I didn’t know such creations existed. Mindless mounds of flesh doing the bidding of their master… I‟d almost feel sorry for them if one of them hadn’t tried to kill us. I would almost thank the flesh creature that came so quickly to remove the broken one… but something tells me I would rather not have to see it again.

I must remember to purchase some of this fire in a bottle next time I am able…and what exactly is a “Mordant?”


Travelling caravans… at least this is something I am used to. Unfortunately… they don’t seem to be used to me or my companions. Honesty, openness and a willingness to carry one‟s own weight can go far, however. I will try my best to help these people while the strange one sulks and the mage and priest bicker.

Note to self: be careful touching anyone if Vedis ever “excites the atoms’ around me again; the shock was quite irritating to the both of us. For that matter…I should dry in the sun next time if we ever get out of here.

The Gods have not abandoned me completely, it seems… for the hunt was fruitful and I was able to bring back food for the people. I only hope this will help ease the fears of the one with the guns who looks at me so warily. While I am eager to try my skills away from home, my father taught me well enough to respect those who offer aid.

The old woman in red… she seems to be a spiritual leader of sorts for these people. Do the gods talk to her through the cards? It must be nice to have such a simple ritual. It makes me wonder at the pomp and circumstance of the priests of Gheldeneth. Do they complete the rituals for the Gods or for their own purpose?

Apparently our people are not the only ones having trouble communicating with the Gods… for her cards have told us little more than that voice in the mist; this is all a mistake.

Goddess forgive my thoughts… if you even hear them anymore.


How was I made… and to what purpose? From out of the mouths of babes comes the question of the ages. I am no priest, little one… I can only tell you that I come far separated from the lair of the strange alchemist who built the pitiful Adam and set him on his course of destruction.

I was made out of love… and this place will either temper my steel or break it to pieces.


It’s growing late… I must try and get some rest before the caravan moves in the morning.

Episode 1
Ensnared by The Dread Realm

Journal bar loki
5033 Olven Calender | 1351 Dale Reckoning

Vedis keeps watch while Lenata builds a fire. The thick mists veil everything around them reducing visibility to a mere few feet. Noticing a figure crouched in the mist she taps Lenata on the shoulder and then waves at it. Hands raised and empty the figure of a female catfolk approaches, dressed in styles vaguely reminiscent of the Priesthood of Ptah.

As the three converse they determine that they have all been swept here form someplace else by the mysterious mists. They also realize that the catfolk, named Kenari, is a groundling. It is at this point that another figure appears out of the mists, generating an instinctual moment of recognition with the Celestian priestess: she is an aasimar, the new arrival is a tiefling. Despite that moment of frisson, the four agree to combine forces (at least for now) to find out where they are and how to get out. It is then that they hear the first bloodcurdling howl in the distance.

More howls sound in the distance, and they sound like they are coming closer. The four, though newly met, decide to unite in the face of their shared circumstances and hastily dousing the fire proceed to remove themselves from the area of the howls.

The landscape revealed as the mist slowly dissipates is an uneven and dismal moor. Scrubby, bent little trees dot the landscape within view. Visibility now improving they can see about twenty five feet around themselves as they double time it away from the approaching howls.

Then the mists part, a dire wolf revealed in the distance. Then another noise pierces the gloom, a bestial roar. A humanoid figured breaks through the mist, picks up the wolf and snaps its spine across his knee. It must be at least 8 feet tall! As it turns Lenata discerns that it is stitched together from body parts. It also has an extremely damaged leg hampering its mobility.

Once more the group run for it, easily keeping double the pace of the creature but somehow unable to completely lose it. For close to five hours it pursues them across the moor until it finally comes across them stopping to rest. Pulling a tree from the ground he throws it at them. Lenata manages to duck to one side, but Kenari sees the tree glance away from Vedis as though deflected by an invisible barrier.

While Kenari taunts the creature, leading it away from the others. Easily done when taunting include trowing alchemists fire on it. Meanwhile Vedis concentrates, reveling in the sensation of using a power that could get her executed on Bral, keeping the flames alive so that the creature continues to burn. Sephira stands by, observing, the crackling energy of a readied spell glowing around her hands.

Then another, even larger creature comes out of the mists headed directly for the combat. Again it seems to be constructed of body parts. The second creature runs in, rips the head off the first, looks around disdainfully at the party, and runs off toward the mountains ahead.

A debate rapidly ensues over whether continuing towards the now visible mountains, and the keep now visible at their leading edge, is truly a wise idea. It is then that they spot the light of a camp fire in the distance. Making their way towards it they get reasonably close and then send Kenari to scout ahead.

The Mulhurrandi catfolk sneaks past a sentry to find a small camp of five wagons circled around a fire roughly eight feet across. Around it are colorfully dressed humans of all ages, and music is being played at the fire side. She raises her empty hands and steps through the trees. Instantly the music stops and a plethora of swords and wheel lock pistols are aimed in her direction.

After extensive argument, during which Kenari makes out the words “monster” and “spawn of evil” used, a woman in red who seems to be the matriarch agrees to hear her out and allow her companions to approach. Roughly half those present seem very ill at ease and whisper darkly amongst themselves. The most vocal opponent of allowing them into the camp is a man sporting a pair of dueling pistols at his hips and a exquisitely fashioned rapier.

Food and drink are brought at the matriarch’s direction and the group are quizzed about themselves. The one spot of recognition in the old woman’s eyes comes as the each mention the mists. She tells them that the mists reach out to snare people into this, the dark domain of Barovia. Looking sad she tells them that there is no known way out.

Bringing out a Tarokka deck she gets each of the young women to draw a card. Looking at the results she seems flustered, telling the group that they were not supposed to be taken.

As dark comes they bed down outside the fire, keeping their own watch along with the gypsys (who call themselves the Vistani). Other than the eerie wolf howls in the distance the night passes uneventfully.

The next day Kenari manages to sweet talk her way past the reservations of the Vistani and joins the men on their hunt. Meanwhile Lenata and Sephira compare their arcane knowledge as they try to find a way back to their homes. Vedis spends most of the day walking in the near vicinity of the encampment, keeping mostly to herself. Her walk is only disturbed once when she trips over what appears to be an elven skull, overgrown with moss.

Kenari returns triumphant, carrying a brace of rabbits. Of all the hunters she brought home the most food, which goes a good way towards making the Vistani less leery of her. Over dinner they confer with the matriarch, who says her people are leaving in the morning. When asked if the newcomers may accompany them she looks doubtful saying that it is not decision alone to make. She does agree to give them an answer in the morning, though.

Everyone beds down for the night and watches are assigned. A full moon rises over the bleak moors.

At about 4 bells, during Sephira’s watch, a pack of huge wolves descend upon the encampment. The Vistani man the wagons and hold them at bay with swords and gunfire. As the ladies groggily awake and get into combat mode the wolves circle the wagons, howling and snarling the while.

Outside the circle A swirling ball of mist forms and the form of Ef Utan Izenik, armor bag slung over his shoulder, steps forth from it. As the mists clear he begins to get a good view of the wolves assault on the Vistani caravan. A half smile crosses his features as he opens his bag and begins donning his armor.

Back at the encampment Kenari climbs one of the trees to get a better shot at the wolves with her bow. Sephira stays inside the ring with a magic missile readied, while Lenata draws her dragon pistols and advances towards a gap between the wagons. Vedis steps over to the fire and brow furrowed begins to concentrate, exercising powers she rarely gets to use on Bral. As she does so part of the fire animates and, under her direction, leaves the firepit heading towards the wolves.

Ef Utan, now properly dressed for the occasion, slots an arrow into his bow and takes aim at one of the wolves. As he fires the bowstring snaps sending the arrow wild where it buries itself in Kenari’s leg as she sits in the tree branches. throwing the bow aside he draws his katana and advances on the wolves. With a single strike he diables one of the wolves, stopping to administer a killing blow afterwards. Whirling he stikes down another, but as he does so the two largest transform into werewolf form.

Suddenly the caravan circle is breached as one of the werewolves manages to breach the defenses and leaps into their midst. Lenata is busy healing Kenari’s wound, but Sephira blasts it with a magic missile. Vedis immediately send the animated fire to wrap itself around the werewolf’s feet.

It is at this point that Lenata invokes her deity in an effort to enthrall their foes. All of the normal wolves, Kenari, Ef Utan and several of the Vistani become enthralled. The two werewolves, however, do not….

Lenata's Journal Part 1

Journal bar lenata

The Spelljammer Bug

How many of us know from our earliest memories what we want to be? And, how many of us are told from our earliest memories exactly who and how we will be? I’d be willing to bet most of us fall into the latter category; such was to be my path. I have since chosen otherwise, at a high and painful cost. I am an Aasimar, a distant descendant of some angelic creature who decided for what ever reason to entertain themselves with a mortal and left a lasting impression. The traits of such don’t always manifest in every generation it may skip a few and show up again randomly. Such was the case for my family. We had had a “chosen” one show up pretty consistently every generation until the last three which was beginning to cost us in our alliances and business dealings. Then after three brothers, I was born and my future began to be mapped by my parents, my community, everyone except me. I was not born with a simple mind or a contented spirit however, staying on this rock and being married off at 14 to secure some affine was not in my plans such as they were.

I don’t know when exactly my “plan” such as it was began to coalesce. I know that for my first 13 years I did as I was bade, mostly, as it seemed to be the best way to access the information I wanted that wasn’t deemed appropriate ie space travel and spellwork and knowledge. Fortunately, Graven, my eldest brother understood me and having also been bred for service to the family sympathized with my plight. It was he that taught me to read, got books or leaflets as he could, taught me to survive in the wilds and told me stories he heard in town and about where I wasn’t allowed to go. He was my window, my rock and my path to freedom, I just wish he’d been brave or foolhardy enough to come with me.

Since I can remember I’ve had these crazy dreams of stars and crystal bubbles that encase whole worlds, of flying contraptions with my mind and will and of two men who I know are significant tho I can’t say why. One is dark with skin of ebony with obsidian eyes who never speaks and one of an enormous human man as pale as milk with fiery hair and gregarious manner; they couldn’t be more opposite. I also see my strange birthmark forged in silver and gemstones. I knew that some of my family recognized it though refused to say how or why; as it was on my shoulder it was rarely uncovered for anyone else to see or remark upon it.

It was only to Graven that I spoke of my dreams and such, and he remarked that if he could he’d find a way for me to live such a life for both of us. Which would often would lead to laughing and shoving and play fighting such as siblings do. I was to soon to learn how serious he really was. Shortly after my 13th birthday it was announced at dinner that the negotiations for my betrothal had been finalized and that I would be married within one lunar cycle of my 14th year. All of a sudden my vision grayed and narrowed and the din in my ears was deafening. I ran from the table a look of horror upon my face, Graven made my excuses and came to find me. He knew the dealing were taking place and hadn’t wanted to alarm me until necessary. He promised to help me leave but bade me to calm myself and keep my intentions hidden lest my best laid plans be thwarted by well-meaning relations. So I did.

I kept up my routines and gave every impression that I was content with my intended. I met him a few times at much supervised functions and dinners. He seemed nice enough but more concerned with treaty negotiations and land contracts than me personally. In the meantime and in secret I posted a message to my godmother (yet another affine in my families cap) but one I felt would sympathize and aid me. Her name is Tarila Moune, head of House Moune, I have only seen her a scant handful of times, none of them in recent years but stories of her have been my inspiration much of my life. I told her of my betrothal, of my dreams and my choice to sever my ties, risk death rather than continue living this life constructed for me. It was six long months before her reply came, hidden cleverly in plain sight in the form of a betrothal gift, a gown of Ginselian silk. She had worked a scrap of papyrus into a hidden sleeve pocket that read simply, “if you’re certain of your path, I’ve secured you a berth on the PhoenixHawk; it will arrive on mid-summer and depart within one daycycle. I will arrange for your stay on the Rock of Bral. Keep safe and secret; no one can know I’ve helped you. Memorize the contents of this message and drop the slip into water”

I confessed to my brother that I was leaving and it was he who offered to see me safely to the spaceport as he’d been there. My brother left on a reputed business venture threes days before midsummer and I stole away the evening after he left and met with him 10 leagues out. We arrived in port and I begged my brother to come with me. He explained that though he wanted to escape he was duty bound to save my family from the fall that my leaving would inevitably cause. I nearly changed my mind at the thought of what my choice would cost him, the look on my face must have clued him in. He swore at me and told me to leave, to live for both of us and never to look back. “They never really looked at you, or they would have known we were never meant to keep you.” I hugged him tightly and promised if I could find a way to safely contact him, I would. With that I whirled and ran down the dock and disappeared. I made my way easily to the PhoenixHawk (it looks just as it sounds) and within an hour of my arrival we were off.

I was shown to a small, private berth below deck. It was cramped but clean and the crewman explained when mess was called and asked that I would remain “out of the way”. Which was my exact plan, I had a few scrolls, some inkwood and it was my intention to start and a journal and formulate my thoughts into a more cohesive plan now that I was off-world. For three days and nights I managed to remain in my berth except of meals and necessities before cabin fever drove me to the deck during night watch. For the first time my dreams began to make sense ;here were the stars, I felt the shift of magic beneath my feet as the ship sailed and sensed the bubble that contained the craft allowing us to breathe. Something moved with a “snick” inside me and I knew this was what I was meant for. All of a sudden a loud thud followed by a sharp cry of pain shattered the quiet night and I ran towards the sound accompanied by a couple others. Its seemed one of the helmsman was going below decks when he tripped and fell. He broke his wrist trying to catch himself. As the break was simple and the fellow young and healthy it was within my power to heal and I offered to do so. Within moments his wrist functioned and looked normal and his pain was gone; saving several weeks of lost work. The deckmaster clapped me on the shoulder and thanked me. I was told that as long as I didn’t interfere with the smooth running of the ship I was allowed to roam in the main areas of the ship as I wished. This was how I learned to sail by watching and asking questions of offering help and occasionally being allowed to practice. The captain introduced herself one afternoon, after I’d spent a bloody afternoon removing an infected tooth from the cook. I’d removed my tunic as the air was close below decks and stood in my trousers and undershift. Brendal Solfire was her name a follower of Celestian, I was startled by her appearance, she was much taller than I clad in robes covered in what I discovered later were star maps. Most arresting of all was the silver charm she wore on a chain around her neck. It was my birthmark worked in silver and gemstones. When I finally looked back up at her face she seemed intrigued. “You’ve seen this symbol before?”

“Yes, though I don’t know what it means or why you have it too” I stammered.

“Too? Who else do you know wears such a symbol?” She questioned.

At this I simply turned my shoulder to the light and revealed my birthmark. “By gods child, who are you?” I asked if we could speak in private and she bade me to bathe and join her in her cabin. One hour later, cleaned and changed I knocked on her door. “Entrée” she called out.
I sat in the chair she gestured to and began my tale omitting my godmother’s role in the matter. She was quiet as she absorbed the story and stared directly at me. I sensed she knew I was omitting something but that I also spoke the absolute truth otherwise. She was silent for a time after I was done and I feared she would return me home. Finally, she spoke and told me of Celestian and how it would seem he marked me. She explained that legends said he resembled the dark-skin man of my dreams tho no one in living memory had claimed to actually have seen him. She could shed no light however on who his counterpoint might be. She offered to show me how to fly in a limited capacity as her power to fly was intertwined with her faith and spell work based on Celestian. She also strongly suggested I enter into the Pantheistic College of Celestian, wryly adding that if my benefactor could secure my passage my tuition shouldn’t be much of a stretch.

I spent the remainder of my voyage between captain and crew learning and perfecting anything and everything anyone would show me in exchange for healing minor wounds and easing the aches and pains that accompany the physicality of working aboard ship.

When we docked in Bral the dock master handed me an envelope in it was a room key and instructions to access an account for my room and board and how to make a request when I had decided what I would do. I had for the most part decided to enroll in the Celestian College and learn to become a spelljammer. I wanted more than anything to be a pilot like Brendal. I stayed in the cozy room at the Inn for one night and after a sleep and hearty breakfast made my way to the College. It was as much like coming home as standing on the deck of a ship was, a resonance if you will. I applied as Lenata, without house affiliations as I claimed I was an orphan. So I stayed and I studied and worked for 12 years, made friends in school and about town.

My favorite bar is where Vedis works, The Laughing Beholder near the docks, She’s mysterious and as much as she complains about her clientele she’s a master of getting even the gruffest and grouchiest of customers to smile and order the most expensive items on the menu. She likes it when I visit her at work since I tip well even though we’re friends and other clients tip better when we’re seen together. It was once such evening after her shift was up that we decided to walk down to her favored bar for a drink, personally I think she just wanted another look at the twin eye-candy that bartended but, whatever.

We were walking and talking, paying more attention to our conversation than what was going on around us, until the bustling streets fell silent and the cobbles beneath our feet could no longer be felt nor seen as the mist swirled thick as wool around us. Vedis clutched my sleeve and suggested we walk back the way we came; I agreed and wrapped a hand around her belt lest I loose her in the mist. Within 20 minutes we realized we couldn’t find the door we’d left from, nor the street we’d walked down, or anything familiar at all! It did occur to us that the possibility existed we weren’t on Bral anymore and that all hell was about to break loose. Unfortunately, we were right.