Savage Archanic

What have we found?
** GM Update **

After consolidating the information they have found, they decide to continue searching, with a plan for the next day. Captain Wylde and Darious go to the biggest market square searching for any info about the dark elves or thier pale companion, while Cecily and Hedra Elfwick go to speak to power Professor Roaker.

The next morning, Cecily recieves a card with an address and a time. Once again they split up, McNittle and His Grace go to speak to the synergist that Roaker told them about, and Captain Wylde,Darious and Roman Andsmith go to see Gavril and await payment for his men.

Pawns and Rebellion?
** GM Update **

Upon travelling to Gavril’s stronghold, they find that he has never dealt with the dark skinned elf personnally. He has dealt with his man, a very slow man called shurim, or something similar. One of the order at the stronghold, TChuw, has worked with him. With hm, they were involved in a robbery of some sort of spike.

After returning to Hullafir, they continued to search for information and clues about these dark skinned thieves, and their pale, odd, human companion. They split up and spoke to a couple of Magus at the Magical University, and searced parts of the northern city for the meeting place.

They did find some information…

All roads lead to Ristopia

Yesterday was an interesting mix of success and failure for most of us. Rehashing the information we did have, and examining the projectile we still have garnered us a few avenues to pursue, Splitting up we followed our own strengths and contacts, Icharus and Darius teamed up to hunt down leads on the elf and someone who might be able to read the runes we found. For my part my day, spent visiting old haunts and reconnecting with old family friends trying to find anyone who might know about the technology of the weapon. The undertaking left me nostalgic and missing my father and no closer to an idea of how to continue, but, when the little I found was added to the information that Icharus and the others garnered about the dark elf, his habit, and compatriots we came up with the same, disturbing solution. Ristopians. The apparent mesh of magic and mechanics was becoming a trade mark beacon for Icharus and I. The suspicions we had been holding to ourselves could no longer be kept quiet. We explained to Edwood and Darius what we thought and why. It wasn’t well received, but it wasn’t poorly received either. Seems they are willing to believe based on what they had seen with their own eyes added to our story. Now, however, we need to figure out where to go from here.

Because most other avenues were exhausted we decided to head out to meet with the leader of the mercenary group that the hired orcs belonged to. Perhaps, with the proper persuasion (read money) we can convince them to tell us who it is and perhaps where they can be found. If nothing else, a walk in the country and a chance to give the M.U.L.E. A good long test run will be just the ticket I think.

Speaking with an old friend of my fathers the name of an old flame came up. I hadn’t realized how much I miss the attention of men. It is funny. I spend my day surrounded by them, but none of them seem to see me as a female. Well.. now… Roman does, and is very protective. But that is his job, and he is very good at it. But Icharus seems to treat me like a sister. A good thing, I think because his dark good looks, quick wit and natural charm would just get me into far more trouble that either of us would need. I miss you Nikki. I miss you too Father… and oddly enough all the beaus that used to come “sniffing around” as you loved to put it.

Right. Enough. Onward tomorrow. One more piece of the puzzle that will hopefully bring us to a point where we can end this annoying press-gang task.

Of Dark Elves and Ristopians
** GM Update **

As the cool weather of the autumn begins, the heroes have begun searching for any leads to the ersatz Red Hats. Travelling in groups, they follow many possible avenues, including a trip to the Infamous LanTru Hospital!

The Return of the King
Icharus P. Wylde

I’ve always hated the rich life… I probably wouldn’t if I could have a jewel encrusted throne of my own, but the summer droned on with nothing truly interesting happening. Through several of Cecily’s projects I felt like nothing more than a hired hand. Not that I don’t enjoy manual labor, but i tend to do it for a price. However this summer of no events has been slightly beneficial. I managed to acquire seemingly harmless trinkets from various vendors around mullberry street. I recalled back at Whayn Port we met an informant by the name of clay, who wore trinkets such as these. She said they protected her from both technology and magic… I liked the sound of it, and had some spare change, so I picked some up.
However, on a particularly nice day, me and Cecily treated ourselves to a nice dinner, but the problem was that we didn’t have any dinner. Although our meal plan was ruined by the entertainment! I love orks! and always have! honorable fighters, tough skin, great stories, and loud voices! but I cannot tolerate anyone ruining me a free meal! Turns out me an’ ol’ ox weren’t Fighting alone, there was an elf mage, and some guy with a bow. However as things would turn out, me and ox didn’t really need any help. that is until two other elves showed up at the door, both wearing armor with black scarves and flamboyant red hats covering their faces. Ox still amazes me when he breathes fire like he were a dragon of lore! he killed most of the orks with a single burst, leaving the dagger ears to me!
One of them held a gun of some sort which he used to smash a priests head like a hammer smashes a melon! except, it was with the shot, not the gun itself. The other held a magic axe, covered in runes. We fought, and even when I turned my attention to cut down a fleeing ork neither of us managed to harm the other! in the end, they managed to escape, and the militia cut in a little too late. it turns out the priest who was shot was a member of the white gloves… the very same white gloves we ran into in Whayn, and now we have to recover some stupid light metal ring for the pompous ass. I don’t care either way, I’m going after those elves, I want that axe! looks like the summers over, and the king is back!

A not so celebratory dinner

In fact, there turned out to be no dinner at all. While Icharus and I were enjoying our aperitif, he, allowing me to natter on about the new mule, heavily armed orcs burst through the doors. There was much shouting and alarm by everyone, (except Icharus who went incredibly still, gathering energy to himself like one of my coiled springs) there was a shouted, “Get down! Get down! Get Down!” and my survival instincts took over, dropping me to the floor and scrambling me under the table.

Chaos ensued. Icharus waded in with Ox at his side, more orcs came into the fray from the back, arrows flew, mad streaks of ice went flying. I watched it all from my spot under the table. I do not have violence in me, I can, if I have to, but I am better able to keep watch and distract at Icharus’ back… don’t judge… it works well for us. It was so much chaos, so many noises and booted feet, grunting and clashes, thwunks and groans.

Then two elves stepped in the doorway. They wore black scarves over the lower half of their face and ridiculous red caps on their heads. One carried a large axe with glowing runes on it while the other carried a large tube-like device which he pointed at the White Hand who had been enjoying the bisque before violence broke out. A loud thrumming drum noise preceded a large hole in the Hands’ head. He dropped and an orc scrambled over and began to rifle his body. The orc must have found what he was looking for because he held something up, shouted and made for the door at a run. An arrow sprouted from his thigh and then Icharus cleaved him with his sword, he almost made it to the door.

The fight continued, with most of the orcs left trying to retreat. I left the safety of my table fort and began working my way through the havoc. I figured that whatever it was these people came here to take was interesting enough to waylay a White Hands in public, no one probably really wanted them to have it, and since I wasn’t busy fighting anyone I elected myself to retrieve it. I wasn’t fast enough however, because one of the elves beat me to it. I did get my hands around his ankle in the hopes of tripping him, but he was much lighter on his feet than I had hoped.

The battle moved out into the street with the retreating elves, it was ugly. They had crossbowman across the street waiting to pin cushion anyone who tried to follow, but of course, Icharus did. The man loves a good fight, that is for sure. I watched from the safety of the doorway as the elves disappeared down an alleyway and Icharus waded into the crossbowman. Very shortly however, the militia showed up and put a quick stop to the whole thing. Everyone was rounded up and taken back into the inn.

This is the part that still makes me angry. The militia were accompanied by a member of the clergy. He did not have white gloves, but, I’m certain he is connected if not an actual member of those dreaded White Hands…. and he knew of both Icharus and I.

Now we have been insulted, condescended to, and blackmailed into taking on the task of finding the object those hoodlums took. I feel as if I have a steam engine for brain matter as it is so hot and so fogged inside my head. Icharus and I are not alone, however, we do seem to be the only two the bastard clergy are familiar with. Coerced into this little adventure along with us is an elf who was responsible for the ice storms and another human who made pincushions out of several with his bow.

I have no idea how to go about this task. We do know that the attackers were trying to look like members of the Red Caps, an elven anti-tech group, except that they were using tech. That tube that shot the White Hand had clock work mechanisms on the back of it…. and that, my friends is technology…. and now I do have a way to go about this task…. bear with me, must sketch before the images are gone….

And Fall Begins
** GM Update **

In the Sunrise Tavern

The Sunrise Tavern is a well to do establishment favored by wealthy and members of the Church. Cecily and Captain Wylde have had occasion to supp here on their fresh stone crab bisque, and delightful frozen preet desserts. Little did they expect this evening to be so different.

Just as it was realized that the barman had been gone for quite a while the door flew open, followed by orks wearing chainmail, carrying shields and axes and loaded crossbows. Then chaos ensued. Icharus waded into these interlopers when the back door swung open and more orcs came in demanding everyone to get on the ground. At this time, a bowman and an Elven mage weighed into the fight filling the air with storms of snow and ice, and arrows, while Icharus and Ox continued the good fight. Two Elves, dressed in black, with black scarves across thier faces, topped with oversize red snapcaps. (Could these be memebers of the RedCaps, an Elven anti-tech group?) One carried an axe, with faintly glowing blue runes…the other, a long metal tube, that sat upon his shoulder with working all around it’s back half. Clockwork, perhaps?

As they entered, one of the elves pointed the tube at a member of the White Hands, and with a deep drum like noise put a hole through his head. Amidst the rest of the battle, one of the orcs began to rifle through the priests garments, momentarily shouting and raising his hand around a chain of some sort. Then he ran for the door. The bowman put an arrow into his thigh, and he was cut down by Icharus as he left.

After that, they began a disordered retreat, with the tube bearer taking something from the downed orc. Icharus followed and was hailed by bolts from across the street, whom he then engaged in melee. After just a moment, after taking a heavy blow to his shoulder, milita arrived and after commanding them to stand down, shot down three of the orcs. With the Militia was a clergyman and they directed the others into the tavern, but when the orc turned to run, he was shot down by the black rifles of the militia.

The militia took controll of the aftermath, seperating the survivors into two groups, one which was obvious participants in the fight, along with Ms. McNittle, who had sensibly taken cover under the tables. The others were those who appeared to be hiding. After rounds of questioning, the Clergyman, who seemed to know both Icharus and Cecily, engaged the four in a proposition to recover an Eternal Circle made of the first refined Light Metal from Edrogans Hole…

...and my little mule is born...

Weeks… long dirty days, sleepless, busy nights… hours of cramped fingers, stiff back and shoulders that groan to think of holding up one more thing and he is whole. He works. He is not a thing of beauty, but a funny little thing that makes you tilt your head and watch as he trundles on by. But. He can carry over 200 pounds. He is lead by a long handle, and once the small steam engine starts him moving he will continue to move forward without pulling until you apply the brake. I think he just needs a coat of paint (I’m thinking a shiny red), some curling pin stripes and a name and we will call it a good day done.

However. Now that I no longer have that pressing project to occupy my mind, I will have to find something else for it to think about. Icharus’ wings are in the works, but only loose sketches at this stage. They will need to sit and ferment for a while before I can move into the mathematics of the mechanics… what good are mechanical wings that don’t stop your downward plummet?

It is time to admit that we need something else to pursue. So, we must now gather the stories we are hearing, sort through them for the truths, and see what information can be dredged up about them. Perhaps there is a particular piece of technology that is simply waiting for the right person to recognize its need and come to the rescue.

I miss my simple life. But having done the adventurous life I don’t think I can ever go back to the mundane day to day of my past. What is a girl to do?

Mind numbing boredom and serious disappointment...

We continued on along repetitive corridors, rooms and chambers. We found crevasse and broken bridges, monster infested water and millions of aggressive spiders. We lost members of our little company, despaired, and then were joyfully reunited. What we didn’t find was technology. Alright. Bits here and there but nothing like what I had hoped. In essence, Heart Deep was systematically shut down, archived and emptied as her inhabitants moved away. They did not run, there was no disorganization or rush that would result in things being left behind. We spent an eternity underground, dusty, dirty, cold and tired for no return at all. I’m weary to the bone. My mind is numb, and the thought of looking at the maps and notes we made, much less going in search of someone who might be interested in them makes me want to sit down and cry.

The whole misadventure brings to mind the year my father sent me away to school. What was to have been an adventure to a wondrous place where I would learn marvelous things, forge life long bonds and take the first steps upon the road to my bright future turned out to be the most tedious year of my entire life. Still, to this day I look back and wonder how that place could have sold itself as such a well of learning and industry, all one had to do was walk through the front gates to know that lethargy ruled the staff and instructors. That this was a place teachers were sent to be out of the way of the real learning. My father made me stay the full year. “It can’t be as bad as all that, Cecily my dear. Besides, sticking it out will build character. Perhaps, with your chin up, by the end of the year you will be glad you stayed and will have come to love what and how they teach.” It was dreadful. As each day trickled by I could feel the cobwebs growing in my head… the dust gathering across my shoulders… all the creative juices drying into nothingness.

I was never so happy to see Hullifer City come into view until today when we traipsed back into town, road weary and disappointed. Perhaps after a hot bath and a good hot meal no one had to prepare themselves, or get burned fingers over, or spill ashes into… and maybe even a lovely glass of port I will be able to look at things and find the tidbits of value.

It might take more than one glass of port, but I’m willing to go the effort.

Return and Creation
** GM Update **

Our intrepid adventures return from the depths of the citadel, after a brief encounter with a tentacled creature at the chasm. Upon returning to Hullafir, they both undertake tasks, after recovering the stones they left…


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