Session 26 – Nailed it!

As the party emerged from the catacombs with the obelisk, they were approached by a dwarf with a wood and metal staff. He introduced himself as Vegvisir Ashblade. The party knew that Aelthir had sent someone ahead of them to retrieve the obelisk, but the party’s presence was a surprise to Vegvisir. He asked if they were also sent by Aelthir.  Dwårfy was all to happy to meet another dwarf and affirmed that they were, indeed, on that same mission.  After allowing the two dwarves time to compare beard quality, the party invited Vegvisir to join them.  

The party made it to the edge of the Swamp of Ineffable Gloom without incident, but shortly after they entered, they approached a bridge over a stagnant, black creek. On this bridge were six troglodytes. They smelled them before they saw them, and Murchad and Tiv were overcome by the stench.

One of them was carrying a grisly totem made of black bones, sinews, and tattered leather strips. The centerpiece was a small, shriveled heart. Bound with thorned vines, it seemed to pulse faintly with dim, purple light. A single obsidian bead embedded within the heart gleams with an eerie sheen.

Combat began immediately, and the troglodytes had the drop on the party thanks to their chameleon-like ability to blend in with their environment. Jack used his Horn of Blasting to damage a swath of them.

The fight was going the party’s way when they other six troglodytes they didn’t see ambushed them from behind.

One of the badly wounded troglodytes from the first group attempted to flee.  Vedica managed to drop him with an arrow from afar, however.

After a tough fight, the party prevailed and took some time to heal up. Their new member, Vegvisir, proved helpful with a healing skill to supplement Tiv’s.

Vegvisir and Tiv approached the totem of the fallen troglodyte. It smelled of musty earth and old blood, and as they looked at it, trying to figure out what it was, they had a growing uneasy sense of being watched. Vegvisir picked it up using some of his blacksmithing tongs and wrapped it in the red silk Tiv had taken from the catacombs beneath Hore Abbey.

As they continued along toward the Lake of Tears, Vegvisir said, “I’d really like to find Granny Crabapple,” as he’d only ever heard her name.

“No, no, no, no, NO!” cried the party in unison.

Murchad elaborated, “Not only is she evil, but she had us craft an artifact for her.”

Tiv, “…and she really needs it to gain more power by draining it from another very powerful entity.”

Vegvisir acquiesced, and the party continued walking into the swamp.

As they did, they saw, up ahead, a beautiful, graceful female figure wearing a flowing white robe and a red sash. Her robe was not made filthy by the swamp.

Most of the party recognized her as Lily, although Vegvisir was on edge at the odd sight of a beautiful woman in a swamp. Murchad, perceiving Vegvisir’s apprehension, whispered, “It’s okay. She’s been helping us.”

Tiv added, “Of the two strange…female…creature-people we could have met in the swamp, Lily is definitely the better of the two!”

Vegvisir added, “Yeah, but maybe Granny Crabapple could help me get home.”

Dwårfy asked his fellow dwarf, “Ah, and where is home?”

“Germania,” replied Vegvisir, flatly.

“Oh, you mean the Holy Roman Empire?” asked Jack, thinking idiosyncratically as usual.

Somewhat confused, Vegvisir replied, “I do no believe I have any associations with the Romans, although I do speak Latin.”

“How did you get here?” Tiv asked.

“I was trying to sell some of my wares and took shelter in a cave and ended up here,” Vegvisir replied.

“How long have you been here?”

“It’s hard to tell time in the Shadowfell, but it’s been a fewmonths.  I really hope no one ran off with my cart, but I’m sure that’s too much to hope for.”

As they got to within earshot of Lily, she asked “Friends, what brings you…here?” with a note of disappointment.

Murchad, somewhat annoyed at the question, motioned to the obelisk.  Lily wrinkled her nose.

Tiv clarified, “We ran into some elves at Phalar who tasked us with retrieving and disposing of this object in the Lake of Tears in exchange for letters of transit.”

“This is not where the children are, though. You’re wasting time. Do you have any idea how much time has passed back on earth?”

Tiv answered, “No, and it keeps me up at night!”

Vegvisir interjected, “How does time work here, anyway? I’m wondering how long I’ve really been here.  I’m hoping I haven’t lost my cart.”

Lily looked at Vegvisir and placed her hand on his forehead. When she did this, a vivid memory came flooding into his mind. It was his last day on earth. He had made it to Rome with his blacksmith cart and was unable to find a room for the night when it started to rain. The city was full for a festival. To get out of the rain, he took shelter in a small cave or cavern at the base of one of the seven hills. There were some people there, he thought making dinner. He drifted off to sleep, and when he awoke, he was at the Shrine of the Hills far to the north.

Once here, he started heading south because he feared the Drow, in whose territory he found himself, only to discover that the regions of the undead to which he traveled were worse. He eventually found the Phalar elves who promised to give him a letter of introduction to the Qu’ellar elves so that he could use their Shrine of the Woods to return to earth.

She thought deeply for a moment, and then replied, “Oh, you’ve lost so much more than that!  You feel like you’ve been here for five months, but back on earth, much more time has passed.”

“Oh, so my cart is absolutely gone,” Vegvisir sighed.

Lily’s look takes on an air of sadness. “Oh, it’s not just your cart that’s gone. In the five months that you’ve been here, twelve years have passed on earth.”

Vegvisir asked, “How have things developed in the meantime? What’s happened to Germania? To Rome?”

Lily replied, “I’m familiar with them, but honestly, that’s not important now.” Turning to the rest of the party, “You need to find the children.”

Then, she added, looking directly at Tiv, “And, you’ve put yourselves in grave danger coming here.”

Tiv asked with trepidation, “What do you suggest?”

She says, “Hm, the nail is going to be a problem.  Granny Crabapple can sense it, and she must already know that it’s been brought into the swamp.”

After a moment, Lily breathed a sigh and said, “Here; maybe this will help.” Then, she gave Tiv a little black pouch with a faint purple aura.  It was hard to focus directly on it, as it always seemed to be just slightly out of focus. “It is made of dreamstrands. It will mask the presence of the artifact but not conceal it completely.”

Tiv put the nail in the pouch. Lily added, “I recommend that you do whatever you need to do here, and get out of this swamp. Find those children; they are far to the north already.”

She looked at Vegvisir and said, “I know the loss of twelve years is difficult to accept, but if you stick with these brave ones, you will get home.”

Jack chuckled, “Well that at least brings me closer to home. I’m trying to get to the 18th century!”

Lily looked at him with surprise. “Oh, you really don’t understand, do you?  For the rest of you, it’s been about a hundred and ninety days since you entered the Feywild, but time here in the Shadowfell is passing for you much more slowly. On this trip to the Shadowfell, for each week you spend here, only one hour passes back home.”

Tiv gave a cry of joy, which then turned to horror as she voiced her realization: “But that doesn’t affect the children, though!”

“No,” replied Lily, “The children have their own…clock.  You all have a destiny in this to find those children and return them safely,” then looking over at Ceangal she added,” and you have a destiny even greater.  Now, you must be on your way, and be careful around the lake…there are things that live in it.”

And, with that, she was gone.

The party approached the Lake of Tears and prepared to conduct the ritual as instructed by the Phalar elves. They set the obsidian obelisk in the water and gave it a gentle push. To their surprise, it floated, and began to drift away. Before they could do anything else, however, the water began to roil. They wondered if the ritual had already started to have an effect, but they realized their mistake when the six heads of a hydra broke the surface.

Tiv and Vedica attacked from afar. Jack blew his Horn of Blasting and destroyed one of the heads.

Ceangal cast his last remaining fireball, taking out three more heads. The party made short order of killing the hydra and resumed the ritual. Each member had to speak a truth, a lie, and a secret over the waters.

Murchad spoke: I am from Ulaidh. I am a halfling. I am a deserter.

When he said that, the obelisk began to bob in the water a bit, and seemed to sink slightly.

Vedica spoke: I like strawberries. I once stole the royal jewels from the Kingdom of the Rhine. I am really not a very good thief.

The rest of the party looked at her. Dwårfy asked, pointedly, “That’s a secret!?”

It seemed to be secret enough, at least to Vegvisir, and the obelisk reacted accordingly. The others continued.

Jack spoke:  I am from the state of North Carolina. My father is a leprechaun. I owned a cotton plantation that kept slave labor.

Tiv spoke: I want to save the children. I don’t have an inventory hoarding problem. I never actually wanted to be a cleric…it was just something my village pushed me into, which is why I left.

Ceangal shuffled his feat a bit and spoke: I’m with the party for a personal mission. The party is thoughtful and would never leave a member behind. I’m partly responsible for the children’s predicament and suffering.

Vegvisir cocked an eyebrow at Ceangal’s “lie.”

Dwårfy spoke: I have the most magnificent beard in Hibernia. I’m ten feet tall. I’m deeply afraid of losing the hammer my mother gave me when I set out to adventure.

Finally, Vegvisir spoke: I am Vegvisir Ashblade. I am a dwarf. I never want to give up my greatest work.

With that, the obelisk shuddered and turned translucent and dissolved into the Lake of Tears like melting ice.

“Great! Let’s get out of here!” cried Tiv.

The party headed back for the bridge to retrace their steps (the most direct route from the entrance of the swamp to the Lake of Tears).  When they got to the bridge, they saw three trolls on the bridge, demanding a toll. For a toll, they demanded a sacrifice of blood magic.

One of the trolls held out a rune-covered dagger. They said that the one paying the toll was to use the dagger to slice his or her palm and let the blood drip on the bridge. The wound would not heal until the dagger was used to harm an innocent.

“What? No!” shouted Tiv.

“Let’s have a moment to discuss this as a party,” said Vedica.

The party spent a few minutes debating how they might be able to pay the toll and then satisfy the demand of the curse without having to do anything too terribly unethical when Tiv asked the lead troll if they could just refuse to pay the toll and still walk away from the bridge the way they came.

The troll just shrugged, but his expression told her that doing that was a possibility until she asked that question, flagging the party as weak and afraid.

Combat ensued.

            The party battled the trolls for a while, but the trolls’ regeneration powers made them relentless. Vedica landed a couple fire arrows, and Tiv failed to light a torch. When trolls that were thought dead regenerated enough to stand up and strike back, Murchad had the idea of throwing any downed trolls off the bridge until the party could just run past any that remained.

            They managed to down two trolls and throw them off the bridge. Dwårfy and Murchad held back the third while the other two made their way to a low point and started climbing back toward the party from the other side. Vegvisir hobbled along like the old dwarf he was, but he did so as impossibly fast speed. It was then that the rest of the party noticed his fancy boots.

            The party did manage to evade the trolls, and they took to the low level of the mountains, unsure if the trolls would follow them or if they would remain behind with their beloved bridge and take the loss.

            The party was really hoping to avoid Granny Crabapple, but the swamp itself foiled their plans. They noticed too late that the swamp itself had twisted around them unnaturally. Before they fully realized it, they saw up ahead the crooked, looming silhouette of Granny Crabapple’s hut blocking the path. It took its last few steps on its chicken legs and then sat down, square in their way.

            Tiv started shaking and rambling. “No, no, no. I’m not going in there.”  As she did that, she took some small gems and pieces of jewelry and put them in the dreamweave bag (just in case she needed to pull something other than the nail out of it at Granny Crabapple’s insistence.

            Vegvisir was fascinated by the hut and wanted to approach. Tiv pleaded with the party not to approach and to just go back the way they came and find another way out of the swamp.

            It was then that the door of the hut opened.

            Vegvisir said, “That looks like an invitation. We should go in.”

            The party continued to debate the merits of entering and the futility of trying to run. An old woman’s voice called from the open door, “Oh, children, do come in.”

            The party continued bickering, but Vegvisir, almost as if in a trance, approached and entered the hut.

            When he was inside, he saw a cramped space cluttered with all manner of foul magical detritus and paraphernalia. An old woman with blue-black, warty skin and greasy hair was puttering about. “Well, you’re not the one I expected to enter first,” it said. “What are you doing with them?”

            Vegvisir explained about the obelisk, and Granny Crabapple reacted dismissively.

            “Why don’t you invite your friends in?”

            “Will you do me a favor in return?”

            It smirked at him.

            “I’m not hearing a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’,” replied Vegvisir.

            “I only phrased it as a courtesy,” it said in a measured tone dripping with malice.

            “Yes,” he replied, “but usually these things go like I give something to you, and you give something to me.”

            Outside the hut, the rest of the party heard Vegvisir’s bloodcurdling screaming through the open door. It was evident that the entity had begun ripping him apart. In they charged, Murchad at the head.

            When they got inside the door, they saw Vegvisir having a quiet conversation with Granny Crabapple, completely unaware of the sounds they had heard emanating from the hut just moments before.

            “You know,” Vegvisir said to Granny Crabapple, “you don’t really get the mercantile spirit.”

            “I don’t know about that. I got what I wanted, and it didn’t cost me a thing, so I’d say I well possess ‘the mercantile spirit’,” it cackled.

            Granny Crabapple continued, “I am surprised to find you here. You needed my help to get here, and you never came back. I was so worried that you might not achieve your goal of making it to the Shadowfell!”

            There was a pause. “But you remember that you also made a commitment, which means you have something of mine.”

            Tiv’s breathing grew shallow, and it took all her restraint to keep her hand from automatically grasping the dreamweave bag.

            “Yes…yes…you know where it is. I know it was created, and I can sense that you recently had it.”

            Another pause.

            “So, where have you put it?”

            “Oh,” said Tiv, “I’m afraid it fell into the lake.”

            “In the lake, you say?  Well, maybe I can help you find it.”

            The party was knocked slightly off balance as they saw the world go whooshing by out the open door when the hut got up on its chicken legs and ran with blinding speed to the western edge of the lake where they had defeated the hydra.

            “Was it here?”

            More whooshing brought them to the northern shore.

            “Or was it here?”

            …more whooshing…

            “Or maybe here?” They could see the eastern edge of the lake, that farthest from the entrance of the swamp. Granny Crabapple had dragged them ever deeper into the Swamp of Ineffable Gloom.

            Tiv stammered, “A very malevolent fish-onoid-looking-thing grabbed it…”

            “Are you certain of that?” Granny Crabapple asked.  It gestured toward the door, and outside, everyone saw earth. Vegvisir and Murchad were pretty sure it was the Cursed Wastes.

            Vegvisir asked, “So you can just go anywhere with this house?”

            It smiled.

            “I assume I can’t just walk out for free?” Vegvisir asked.

            The door slammed shut.

            “Oh, no,” it replied, “I wouldn’t want to fail to exhibit a ‘mercantile spirit.’ Everything has a price.”

            Vegvisir cracked a sheepish grin. “I’m eating my words.”

            “How do they taste?” asked Tiv.

            “Fairly bitter, actually,” he replied.

            Tiv said, “We have to save those children.”

            “Oh,” the hag replied, “so you wish to just have me relinquish the nail?  There’s a price for that, too.”

            Tiv groaned, “What a surprise.”

            “One of you will need to serve me for a year and a day at some point in the future.”

            “What do we have to do?” asked Ceangal.

            “When I call upon you, I’ll tell you. But, when I call upon you, you will obey me without question.”

            After a pregnant pause, “So, do we have a bargain?”

            Tiv asked, “How about, on the way out, since you didn’t get us into the Shadowfell, you can get us out, once we have the children, and then you can have the nail?”

            “After you failed to return to me and hold up your end of the bargain the first time?”

            “But,” began Tiv, now with confidence, “it would be a great conclusion to a great…potential contract.”

            “You know what else would be a great conclusion? GIVING ME THE NAIL!!!” when it growled the demand, its eyes glowed red, and its impossibly wide mouth bared its wrought-iron fangs, flicking acidic saliva in her general direction.

            “So, one of you can serve me…or you can retrieve that nail from the lake and bring it to me. The choice is yours. I’m not particular. You can do this the hard way, or you can do this the harder way. ”

            Ceangal looked at his teammates and stepped forward. “The problem we are trying to solve is partially my fault. I will agree to serve you after the conclusion of seeing the children home.”

            “You will serve when I tell you to serve…but I suspect that you will have time to retrieve your precious children. I have no interest in them.”

            After another pause, it said, “We have a deal. Now, get out.”

            With that, the door opened, the hut reared up on its legs, and dumped the entire party unceremoniously on the eastern shore of the Lake of Tears. The hut then ran northward with great speed.