It has been several weeks since the disturbing discovery of the ratfolk alchemist and his blackrot venom beneath the temple. Before beginning our next adventure, what has everyone been doing in the mean time?
While Gong has spent most of his time in quiet spiritual and physical meditation, he has also traversed the market and purchased two items: a set of carpenter's tools and a Potion of Healing (Player's Handbook pp. 150, 153).
With no need of excess gold to support his humble lifestyle, Gong has decided to donate 22 gp to the Temple of Lathander. While he is a devotee of Pelor, he recognizes Lathander's similar authority over light and life and trusts his acolytes to distribute the money where it can do the most good.
While Gong has spent most of his time in quiet spiritual and physical meditation, he has also traversed the market and purchased two items: a set of carpenter's tools and a Potion of Healing (Player's Handbook pp. 150, 153).
With no need of excess gold to support his humble lifestyle, Gong has decided to donate 22 gp to the Temple of Lathander. While he is a devotee of Pelor, he recognizes Lathander's similar authority over light and life and trusts his acolytes to distribute the money where it can do the most good.
Beyond researching planar materials and testing the limitations of Minor Conjuration, Wendell has been familiarizing himself with the local shops and guilds. Particularly, he wants to know if there are any shops which deal is scrolls and/or books.
He's mentioned that he's interested commissioning a wand from Gong if the monk is amenable. (He's willing to part with 10 GP unless the DMG lists a different price for arcane foci).
He's also made it known in the Goat and Bagpipes that he can detect and identify magical items, or translate documents into common for a fee if anyone at the Inn is interested.
Finally, he's asking around for anyone who might be interested in selling some farmland to him down the line.
Balasar spends his gold on 4 potions of healing. Aside from that, he spends his time keeping his fighting skills sharp in a secluded corner of the surrounding wilderness and trying to avoid any...situations of the sort that got him sent out here in the first place.
In the aftermath of your harrowing battle with the nightmare-inducing monster, you finally collapse in fatigue for a remarkably peaceful night of rest. In the morning, you awaken to discover the weather has worsened throughout the night and the trails leading back to Timberway are completely impassible. However, Guan Hao, being a native of cold and mountainous regions, assures the party that this snowfall was unusually late for the season and, if the current temperatures hold, enough snow should melt that you can safely make your return journey; though the prospect of remaining in the Bluerock Lodge, with its recent horrors, is not appealing, you settle in and make the best of your situation.
Among other time-occupying tasks, the party pieces together the fragments of the formerly blood-stained journal which once belonged to the hunter, Kyle Tanner.
Traveling into the Timberway forest with a small group of trappers and hunters led by a ranger named Aaron Korigard, Kyle documented his first major foray into for-profit hunting.
Based in the Bluerock Lodge, Aaron’s men hunted the animals of the woods more out of a deep-seated greed than a need to feed themselves. In particular, they focused their attention on the local Timberway wolf population. Timberway wolves are rather small and lithe (more like leopards), but they are known for being intelligent and wary. Additionally, local merchants known to Kyle had vouched to pay upward of 50 gold pieces per Timberway wolf pelt.
The trappers, having the advantage of both luck and tools, discovered and slaughtered an entire pack of Timberway wolves over the course of several days.
It was around this time that things started becoming strange. The first odd occurrence was during the day's hunt: working in small groups, the hunters each went to different areas, searching for hints of more Timberway wolves. One group came back early due to an injury - a hunter named Keller had been bitten by some kind of wild animal, but he was too shaken up to recall the details.
The second oddity was a freak blizzard so severe that it kept the hunters from making their return journey to Timberway. Aaron informed the group that it was unusually late in the season for such a storm and that the best course was to wait for it to blow over. The evening after the hunters settled into their lodge to wait out the sudden blizzard, everyone began to suffer from intense nightmares and bouts of sleepwalking accompanied by odd behaviors such as picking up various objects, opening windows, and, in one particular case, Kyle notes waking to a cry of pain as Keller, the injured man, had apparently walked up to and bitten one of the other hunters in his sleep - the incident was, of course, an accident, Keller seeming just as startled by his actions as everyone else.
As the entries progress from this point, the writing and content become progressively haphazard, with some entries containing notes scribbled in the margins, others consisting of drawings, and some are just individual words scrawled across the page. It seems that the author, Kyle, was suffering from both sleep deprivation and paranoia. He writes about "whispers that won't stop" and that "Keller hears them too".
Deciding to brave the storm alone, the ranger, Aaron, abandoned the remaining hunters on the morning of the fourth day after the nightmares began, but not before warning Kyle to “watch Keller”.
As nearly as you can piece together, the hunters (or, at least Kyle) belived something was hunting them and driving them mad. They made an attempt to barricade the lodge but two entries later, kyle notes only, "It came for us. Barricades no good. Can't keep out what's already in." He does not elaborate further.
His final entries seem to indicate that Keller became increasingly violent and attempted to bite several more times, resulting in his being restrained and locked in the sleeping quarters. The last entry breaks off mid sentence after noting noises from Keller's room.
A few weeks after the events in the catacombs, Lord Marius approached the group with a new proposition. One of his cousins with ownership of a hunting lodge to the north recently lost contact with the property. More than a simple land dispute, something appeared to have spooked the local barbarian tribes. The once tacitly accommodating tribes had begun to warn people away from the region, and advise that any who entered would not do so under their protection. Lured by the promise of significant financial compensation, Balasar, Elaric and Wendell agreed to investigate the lodge and attempt to restore it to secure and working order. Marius's cousin supplemented their ranks with a mercenary named Guan Hao, a warrior native to the Timberway region who would serve as both guide and muscle. The party traveled (with the aid of teleportation) to the village bordering Timberway Forest, stopping there to gather supplies and information. Sadly, there was little information to be had. Barbarians who had come to the village to trade were tight lipped regarding the nature of the danger in the forest, and the party was able to discern little about the last group to use the lodge, save that they were lead by a ranger named Aaron Korigard, and that one member of that group, Keller, was suspected to have stolen a ring from the local captain of the guard. The party set out into the forest, but progress was slow due to a snow storm. Outside of the sound of the storm, the journey was strangely quiet; Guan Hao surmised that the animals appeared to have abandoned the forest. Tired and cold, they made their way along a rough path to the lodge. Suddenly, they spied something through the driving snow. On closer inspection, they discovered it was a body. The victim had clearly bled to death, for the snow around them was a field of red. Nonetheless, the injuries were... odd, for the dead man appeared to have undone bandaged wounds- bite marks -to facilitate his own death. Equally odd were his ears, for it appeared that he had punctured his own eardrums with his dagger. The group had little time to ponder the man's fate before a single starved wolf crested the hill and made to attack them. Balasar and Guan Hao had little trouble in subduing the pitiful creature, with the Dragonborn swordsman laying the thing out cold. Taking pity on the unconscious beast, Guan Hao left some dried meat in front of it an the party moved on. Shortly after, the group spied the silhouette of Bluerock Lodge looming out of the darkening snowscape. A small camp fire burned outside, and they spotted bloody footprints coming towards it from the lodge. Following these, the companions made it into the lodge proper. What they found within was... horrific. Blood spattered the walls and lay in great pools on the floor. A roast over the fire, long burned to bone, was revealed on closer inspection to be a spitted humanoid. Cooking pots and barrels full of rotting human offal were close by. Wendell found a bloodied journal and set about restoring it with magic while Guan Hao and Balasar investigated a side room. Within, they found a man; horribly emaciated and pale, he seemed at first relieved to see living people... until he got into biting range. The cadaverous man attempted to bite Guan Hao, but both the mercenary and the swordsman managed to keep their insane attacker at bay. Between Wendell's sling bullet and the pair's swords, they dispatched the man, overcoming his supernatural pain tolerance with a cleaving blow to the head. Even in death, the manic ghoul seemed to smile at them. Now free to read the diary, Wendell discovered that their attacker was likely Keller (see journal entry above for details). On discovering that their attacker was Keller, Wendell went back to see if he could locate the ring Keller had stolen. One Detect Magic later, the party was (at least temporarily) one magic ring richer. In exploring the rest of the lodge, the party found and disposed of the rest of the group's remains. Elaric and Wendell set to work cleaning the lodge while Guan Hao and Balasar worked to dispose of the corpses in the exterior fire. Having rendered the lodge at least non-hazardous by nightfall but with the blizzard still ongoing, the party came to the grim realization that they would have to stay the night. This was made all the more undesirable due to strange happenings. Wendell perceived his reflection in the windows to be delayed in their movements. Balasar saw a monstrous figure behind him when he looked to the window, yet nothing was there when he turned around. Heeding the journal author's warning regarding sleeping, the group elected to set a watch with Wendell taking the first shift. Towards the end of his watch, Balasar rose and took a flask and lantern outside of the lodge. Following behind, Wendell saw the Dragonborn douse himself with the flask's contents and hold the lantern up as if considering it. Perhaps at the wizard's cry, or perhaps of his own volition, Balasar awoke then. He spoke of a dream in which he was burning alive while his companions watched silently, a vision that he had almost inadvertently made real. His failure to immolate himself appeared to be the last straw for the malevolence that stalked the lodge, and with a chilling cry a Wendigo stepped out from the treeline and advance upon the building. The creature was vicious in its assault, unhindered by blade or bullet or stones flung with the weight of magic's strength behind them. Only fire seemed to deal lasting harm to it, and by dribs and drabs the four managed to whittle its defenses down. At last, the beast fell with a final cry and dissolved into ash carried away by the wind. The oppressive pall it had cast over the lodge, so pervasive that none had noticed it, was lifted. Now the lodge which had held so much dread felt once again like a place of rest and comfort.
With my reverie finished and my companions still asleep after the harrowing events of last night, I find myself with both privacy and a need to organize my inner contemplations. I realize it has been some decades since last I made use of a journal, but, given my less sedentary (and more dangerous) new lifestyle, perhaps it is time to start up the habit again. If nothing else, maybe it will make a good story for my nieces and nephews.
I have spent most of my adult life as a researcher and historian, a role which has kept me quietly safe within the halls of the Arcane University. But, having been jolted out of my rut, I am rediscovering my childhood wonder for magic. Even more than that, I am discovering the wonders of shaping the weave to evoke raw elemental manifestations such as fire or ice. This newfound interest has already proven both its utility and potency in managing hostile encounters, last night’s attack being a good case in point; I never knew that wendigos had such an aversion to fire.
Though I do not wish to dwell upon the horror we faced, my mind keeps returning to a particular moment in the battle; as I clutched at the arcane strings of the weave and flung them into physical being, there was a moment, brief and elusive, when I felt able to influence my spell, not just directly, but secondarily to the initial casting. I found that, rather than throwing a bolt of fire and hoping it would hit my target, I was able to use the weave to slightly guide the projectile into better alignment after it left my hand.
I am aware of spells (the so-called ‘magic missile’ comes to mind) which allow a user to hit a target unerringly, but such a spell only gives the illusion of distant control – the arcanist actually designates the target prior to launching the spell and makes what one might think of as arcane strings in the weave; these strings are tied to the target and so will always lead the spell accurately to its destination. These strings are created and ‘tied’ as a part of the initial casting, with no influence possible from the caster after the spell is launched. What I experienced last night was different; the spell had left my hand – left my control entirely, as far as I am aware – and yet I could feel the ripples it made in the weave around me and I was able to use those ripples to influence the spell’s trajectory. Assuming this was not some adrenaline-fueled hallucination, I believe, with practice, that I could use these ripples to move and even shape my spells. I could, in theory, create pockets of safety within my spells, sparring my allies any harm without sacrificing a spell’s potency and effect on a nearby enemy.
My hypothesis will require further experimentation before I would willingly risk my companions’ wellbeing, but I think I have a way to safely conduct some tests; some months ago, one of my colleagues at the Arcane University had allowed me to copy most of a magic missile spell into my spellbook before I set off on my travels – with this newest insight, I have been able to finish writing the spell on my own. I will pay special attention to the nature of the arcane strings tied to my targets and see how they shift – perhaps I can learn to utilize the ripples by studying how the strings effect the weave when following a moving target.
On a related note, I discovered I had yet to finalize another spell shared by a student in one of my classes many months ago. Again, my experience with the ripples allowed me to better understand the nature of the spell and finish it appropriately. It should allow me to gather folds of the weave about myself or another to act as a kind of absorbent buffer against any harm – very similar to armor. It is my fervent hope, though I am less than optimistic, that this spell will see little use in the future.
My companions appear to be stirring. Time to find a way back home. May Azuth grant us better weather leaving than we had coming out here.
The party has awoken after a surprisingly restful night. The wendigo's vile influence seems to have truly left this place. The weather has cleared and it is likely safe enough to travel back to Timberway whenever the party is ready. The journey back (this time in better weather) should take 3-4 days. It is currently pre dawn (~1 hour to sunrise). What does the party do?
Wendell is ready to start making the trip back immediately. Not only have they done what they set out to do, the lodge is about as close to spotless as they could manage.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Weaknesses are more interesting than strengths anyways.
It has been several weeks since the disturbing discovery of the ratfolk alchemist and his blackrot venom beneath the temple. Before beginning our next adventure, what has everyone been doing in the mean time?
I have a couple of refresher questions:
1) What sort of items are available for purchase in town?
2) What sort of temples/places of worship are present?
Actually I had this question a while ago. See below for George's response.
Prominent locations in the city of Adaern:
While Gong has spent most of his time in quiet spiritual and physical meditation, he has also traversed the market and purchased two items: a set of carpenter's tools and a Potion of Healing (Player's Handbook pp. 150, 153).
With no need of excess gold to support his humble lifestyle, Gong has decided to donate 22 gp to the Temple of Lathander. While he is a devotee of Pelor, he recognizes Lathander's similar authority over light and life and trusts his acolytes to distribute the money where it can do the most good.
Wendell looks at the carpenter equipment curiously, "What are you making?"
[NULL POST]
*gain inspiration*
Gong briefly reflects on the question. "Nothing - for now. But if the need arises, I would like to have these on hand."
OOC: One of Gong's proficiencies is with Carpenter's Tools, and it has been bugging me that he hasn't had access to a set.
Beyond researching planar materials and testing the limitations of Minor Conjuration, Wendell has been familiarizing himself with the local shops and guilds. Particularly, he wants to know if there are any shops which deal is scrolls and/or books.
He's mentioned that he's interested commissioning a wand from Gong if the monk is amenable. (He's willing to part with 10 GP unless the DMG lists a different price for arcane foci).
He's also made it known in the Goat and Bagpipes that he can detect and identify magical items, or translate documents into common for a fee if anyone at the Inn is interested.
Finally, he's asking around for anyone who might be interested in selling some farmland to him down the line.
Balasar spends his gold on 4 potions of healing. Aside from that, he spends his time keeping his fighting skills sharp in a secluded corner of the surrounding wilderness and trying to avoid any...situations of the sort that got him sent out here in the first place.
In the aftermath of your harrowing battle with the nightmare-inducing monster, you finally collapse in fatigue for a remarkably peaceful night of rest. In the morning, you awaken to discover the weather has worsened throughout the night and the trails leading back to Timberway are completely impassible. However, Guan Hao, being a native of cold and mountainous regions, assures the party that this snowfall was unusually late for the season and, if the current temperatures hold, enough snow should melt that you can safely make your return journey; though the prospect of remaining in the Bluerock Lodge, with its recent horrors, is not appealing, you settle in and make the best of your situation.
Among other time-occupying tasks, the party pieces together the fragments of the formerly blood-stained journal which once belonged to the hunter, Kyle Tanner.
Traveling into the Timberway forest with a small group of trappers and hunters led by a ranger named Aaron Korigard, Kyle documented his first major foray into for-profit hunting.
Based in the Bluerock Lodge, Aaron’s men hunted the animals of the woods more out of a deep-seated greed than a need to feed themselves. In particular, they focused their attention on the local Timberway wolf population. Timberway wolves are rather small and lithe (more like leopards), but they are known for being intelligent and wary. Additionally, local merchants known to Kyle had vouched to pay upward of 50 gold pieces per Timberway wolf pelt.
The trappers, having the advantage of both luck and tools, discovered and slaughtered an entire pack of Timberway wolves over the course of several days.
It was around this time that things started becoming strange. The first odd occurrence was during the day's hunt: working in small groups, the hunters each went to different areas, searching for hints of more Timberway wolves. One group came back early due to an injury - a hunter named Keller had been bitten by some kind of wild animal, but he was too shaken up to recall the details.
The second oddity was a freak blizzard so severe that it kept the hunters from making their return journey to Timberway. Aaron informed the group that it was unusually late in the season for such a storm and that the best course was to wait for it to blow over. The evening after the hunters settled into their lodge to wait out the sudden blizzard, everyone began to suffer from intense nightmares and bouts of sleepwalking accompanied by odd behaviors such as picking up various objects, opening windows, and, in one particular case, Kyle notes waking to a cry of pain as Keller, the injured man, had apparently walked up to and bitten one of the other hunters in his sleep - the incident was, of course, an accident, Keller seeming just as startled by his actions as everyone else.
As the entries progress from this point, the writing and content become progressively haphazard, with some entries containing notes scribbled in the margins, others consisting of drawings, and some are just individual words scrawled across the page. It seems that the author, Kyle, was suffering from both sleep deprivation and paranoia. He writes about "whispers that won't stop" and that "Keller hears them too".
Deciding to brave the storm alone, the ranger, Aaron, abandoned the remaining hunters on the morning of the fourth day after the nightmares began, but not before warning Kyle to “watch Keller”.
As nearly as you can piece together, the hunters (or, at least Kyle) belived something was hunting them and driving them mad. They made an attempt to barricade the lodge but two entries later, kyle notes only, "It came for us. Barricades no good. Can't keep out what's already in." He does not elaborate further.
His final entries seem to indicate that Keller became increasingly violent and attempted to bite several more times, resulting in his being restrained and locked in the sleeping quarters. The last entry breaks off mid sentence after noting noises from Keller's room.
Each player who participated in the first half of this adventure gains 450 XP.
Please note: the next part of this adventure picks up ~24 hours after the wendigo was defeated.
Does anyone wish to summarize what happened to the party with regard to Timberway forest and the Bluerock Lodge?
A few weeks after the events in the catacombs, Lord Marius approached the group with a new proposition. One of his cousins with ownership of a hunting lodge to the north recently lost contact with the property. More than a simple land dispute, something appeared to have spooked the local barbarian tribes. The once tacitly accommodating tribes had begun to warn people away from the region, and advise that any who entered would not do so under their protection.
Lured by the promise of significant financial compensation, Balasar, Elaric and Wendell agreed to investigate the lodge and attempt to restore it to secure and working order. Marius's cousin supplemented their ranks with a mercenary named Guan Hao, a warrior native to the Timberway region who would serve as both guide and muscle.
The party traveled (with the aid of teleportation) to the village bordering Timberway Forest, stopping there to gather supplies and information. Sadly, there was little information to be had. Barbarians who had come to the village to trade were tight lipped regarding the nature of the danger in the forest, and the party was able to discern little about the last group to use the lodge, save that they were lead by a ranger named Aaron Korigard, and that one member of that group, Keller, was suspected to have stolen a ring from the local captain of the guard.
The party set out into the forest, but progress was slow due to a snow storm. Outside of the sound of the storm, the journey was strangely quiet; Guan Hao surmised that the animals appeared to have abandoned the forest. Tired and cold, they made their way along a rough path to the lodge. Suddenly, they spied something through the driving snow. On closer inspection, they discovered it was a body. The victim had clearly bled to death, for the snow around them was a field of red. Nonetheless, the injuries were... odd, for the dead man appeared to have undone bandaged wounds- bite marks -to facilitate his own death. Equally odd were his ears, for it appeared that he had punctured his own eardrums with his dagger. The group had little time to ponder the man's fate before a single starved wolf crested the hill and made to attack them. Balasar and Guan Hao had little trouble in subduing the pitiful creature, with the Dragonborn swordsman laying the thing out cold. Taking pity on the unconscious beast, Guan Hao left some dried meat in front of it an the party moved on.
Shortly after, the group spied the silhouette of Bluerock Lodge looming out of the darkening snowscape. A small camp fire burned outside, and they spotted bloody footprints coming towards it from the lodge. Following these, the companions made it into the lodge proper. What they found within was... horrific. Blood spattered the walls and lay in great pools on the floor. A roast over the fire, long burned to bone, was revealed on closer inspection to be a spitted humanoid. Cooking pots and barrels full of rotting human offal were close by. Wendell found a bloodied journal and set about restoring it with magic while Guan Hao and Balasar investigated a side room. Within, they found a man; horribly emaciated and pale, he seemed at first relieved to see living people... until he got into biting range. The cadaverous man attempted to bite Guan Hao, but both the mercenary and the swordsman managed to keep their insane attacker at bay. Between Wendell's sling bullet and the pair's swords, they dispatched the man, overcoming his supernatural pain tolerance with a cleaving blow to the head. Even in death, the manic ghoul seemed to smile at them.
Now free to read the diary, Wendell discovered that their attacker was likely Keller (see journal entry above for details). On discovering that their attacker was Keller, Wendell went back to see if he could locate the ring Keller had stolen. One Detect Magic later, the party was (at least temporarily) one magic ring richer.
In exploring the rest of the lodge, the party found and disposed of the rest of the group's remains. Elaric and Wendell set to work cleaning the lodge while Guan Hao and Balasar worked to dispose of the corpses in the exterior fire.
Having rendered the lodge at least non-hazardous by nightfall but with the blizzard still ongoing, the party came to the grim realization that they would have to stay the night. This was made all the more undesirable due to strange happenings. Wendell perceived his reflection in the windows to be delayed in their movements. Balasar saw a monstrous figure behind him when he looked to the window, yet nothing was there when he turned around.
Heeding the journal author's warning regarding sleeping, the group elected to set a watch with Wendell taking the first shift. Towards the end of his watch, Balasar rose and took a flask and lantern outside of the lodge. Following behind, Wendell saw the Dragonborn douse himself with the flask's contents and hold the lantern up as if considering it. Perhaps at the wizard's cry, or perhaps of his own volition, Balasar awoke then. He spoke of a dream in which he was burning alive while his companions watched silently, a vision that he had almost inadvertently made real.
His failure to immolate himself appeared to be the last straw for the malevolence that stalked the lodge, and with a chilling cry a Wendigo stepped out from the treeline and advance upon the building.
The creature was vicious in its assault, unhindered by blade or bullet or stones flung with the weight of magic's strength behind them. Only fire seemed to deal lasting harm to it, and by dribs and drabs the four managed to whittle its defenses down. At last, the beast fell with a final cry and dissolved into ash carried away by the wind. The oppressive pall it had cast over the lodge, so pervasive that none had noticed it, was lifted. Now the lodge which had held so much dread felt once again like a place of rest and comfort.
Note: if anyone wants to join in the second half of this adventure, PM me to arrange how your character gets to Bluerock Lodge.
An excerpt from Elaric’s journal:
With my reverie finished and my companions still asleep after the harrowing events of last night, I find myself with both privacy and a need to organize my inner contemplations. I realize it has been some decades since last I made use of a journal, but, given my less sedentary (and more dangerous) new lifestyle, perhaps it is time to start up the habit again. If nothing else, maybe it will make a good story for my nieces and nephews.
I have spent most of my adult life as a researcher and historian, a role which has kept me quietly safe within the halls of the Arcane University. But, having been jolted out of my rut, I am rediscovering my childhood wonder for magic. Even more than that, I am discovering the wonders of shaping the weave to evoke raw elemental manifestations such as fire or ice. This newfound interest has already proven both its utility and potency in managing hostile encounters, last night’s attack being a good case in point; I never knew that wendigos had such an aversion to fire.
Though I do not wish to dwell upon the horror we faced, my mind keeps returning to a particular moment in the battle; as I clutched at the arcane strings of the weave and flung them into physical being, there was a moment, brief and elusive, when I felt able to influence my spell, not just directly, but secondarily to the initial casting. I found that, rather than throwing a bolt of fire and hoping it would hit my target, I was able to use the weave to slightly guide the projectile into better alignment after it left my hand.
I am aware of spells (the so-called ‘magic missile’ comes to mind) which allow a user to hit a target unerringly, but such a spell only gives the illusion of distant control – the arcanist actually designates the target prior to launching the spell and makes what one might think of as arcane strings in the weave; these strings are tied to the target and so will always lead the spell accurately to its destination. These strings are created and ‘tied’ as a part of the initial casting, with no influence possible from the caster after the spell is launched. What I experienced last night was different; the spell had left my hand – left my control entirely, as far as I am aware – and yet I could feel the ripples it made in the weave around me and I was able to use those ripples to influence the spell’s trajectory. Assuming this was not some adrenaline-fueled hallucination, I believe, with practice, that I could use these ripples to move and even shape my spells. I could, in theory, create pockets of safety within my spells, sparring my allies any harm without sacrificing a spell’s potency and effect on a nearby enemy.
My hypothesis will require further experimentation before I would willingly risk my companions’ wellbeing, but I think I have a way to safely conduct some tests; some months ago, one of my colleagues at the Arcane University had allowed me to copy most of a magic missile spell into my spellbook before I set off on my travels – with this newest insight, I have been able to finish writing the spell on my own. I will pay special attention to the nature of the arcane strings tied to my targets and see how they shift – perhaps I can learn to utilize the ripples by studying how the strings effect the weave when following a moving target.
On a related note, I discovered I had yet to finalize another spell shared by a student in one of my classes many months ago. Again, my experience with the ripples allowed me to better understand the nature of the spell and finish it appropriately. It should allow me to gather folds of the weave about myself or another to act as a kind of absorbent buffer against any harm – very similar to armor. It is my fervent hope, though I am less than optimistic, that this spell will see little use in the future.
My companions appear to be stirring. Time to find a way back home. May Azuth grant us better weather leaving than we had coming out here.
The party has awoken after a surprisingly restful night. The wendigo's vile influence seems to have truly left this place. The weather has cleared and it is likely safe enough to travel back to Timberway whenever the party is ready. The journey back (this time in better weather) should take 3-4 days. It is currently pre dawn (~1 hour to sunrise). What does the party do?
Wendell is ready to start making the trip back immediately. Not only have they done what they set out to do, the lodge is about as close to spotless as they could manage.