Iron Gods - Mike Korupp

Rim joins the party.
Here we go again.

Once the party arrived in Torch there was a new arrival in town. It was Vidon’s cousin Rim Cairntracker. Vidon called a meeting of the party to introduce Rim and say his goodbyes.

This is a strange group Vidon has connected me with. First, they wind up speaking with a dimensional Dragonkin. just to find out that one of the party has a price on his head. From what Vidon told me he isn’t the only one to have that. They heard about some bounty hunters that might have some information so they headed out to find their headquarters. When we arrived the apparent leader, Mal, spoke with the patrons until it appeared they weren’t going to be forthcoming with any more info. Then we killed them.

We went out back to search the grounds and were set upon by a Dragon that creates mud to slow attackers down. It was a tough fight but we prevailed. We found some loot hidden in the walls of the tavern but it wasn’t what I would call a Dragon’s Hoard. Fairly skimpy if you ask me.

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Letter's Home
Letter 17 (Tower Finish)

Dear mom and dad,
Ok, so I haven’t been able to get some letters out for a while due to a small problem, and that is me and my friends (I think we are that close) were inside a tower that transported itself to the plane of fire(Not joking in the least when i write this).

Where to begin? Well to sum it all up (and to save some paper) we needed a rouge/archer, because there were a LOT of traps in this tower, just some of them include ghost sectors, fire explosions and the occasional metal suit. The one thing that was more of a pain than anything else was this little rodent that had WAY to many legs. Little thing ran away when it knew that it was about to get trounced.

But nothing really compares to the sight of seeing to highly powerful spellcasters duke it out. Even longer story made shorter, if they wanted to, they would have no problem killing off myself and all my friends. But fortunately we were able to get out of there without any major problems.

The only thing that i am having a hard time getting over is the fact that we recently brought on a new party member that reminds me of some very unpleasant race of creatures called Kaiten’s. They are basically demons that have a fetish for chains (which they have an infinite supply) and something that can only be described as torture/pleasure. Both of which i don’t look at too fondly.

Anyway, were out of the tower now and are about to talk to this acquaintance our ours before heading back to Torch. Send a letter to there if you want me to receive it.

Sincerity your,
Flynn

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Vidon leaves Torch.
Rim Cairntracker is introduced.

Vidon is quiet on the way back to Torch. He listens as the others speak with Longdreamer. Upon arrival in Torch he sends a letter home. a few days later another Dwarf arrives and begins asking for Vidon. This new Dwarf finds Vidon and they go off to talk amongst themselves. Vidon comes back to Arim’s and asks that the others be gathered. When gathered he introduces his cousin Rim Cairntracker. Vidon announces that he is returning home and Rim will take his place. Rim has not had any encounters with robots so he does not have Vidon’s skill at attacking them. However, Vidon does hand over the Chainsaw and the Mantle along with some other items he feels will help Rim. Rim asks if anyone has the ability to enhance his Dwarven Maulaxe as a Returning weapon? Vidon says his goodbye’s and leaves.

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Vidon makes a decision.
Who will replace me?

Lately I have been worried about my family. Especially my Brother. When we rescued him from the Barbarians he didn’t seem himself. He seemed rather distant and withdrawn. As he is the main source of income for the clan it falls to him to be in his sound mind.

I fear that the captivity had a detrimental effect on him. I feel I must return home to check on the family. But I have committed to helping these fellow travelers in their mission. I wonder if I can get a message to my cousin Rim Cairntracker II. He has been traveling the world looking for the murderer of his Father. If I can find him I will lend him the Chainsaw and the Ioun Stone along with whatever else he feels would help with his travels.

Trying to find Rim must wait until we get back to the Material Plane though. I don’t think he is on the Plane of Fire. So first things first, try to clear this tower and then get back to the Material Plane.

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Journal of Shadow Mal 20

Entry 177, Day 104, Evening

We’re trapped, this is concerning.

I checked the front door, and the tower has shifted location. The fire plains, lava flows, and unbound Magmin make it clear we are on the elemental plane of fire now. Given this tower’s history it should shift back eventually, but we won’t be getting out until it does. All we can do is press on, and perhaps we will find a controller to the displacement, twisting ourselves back to the correct realm.

This is easier said than done, however, as this place is highly dangerous. Xoud had a lot of experiments and collected components of his menagerie, and a majority of them do more than simple physical injuries. We have exhausted our supply of restoration magic and are merely halfway up the tower.

Along with undead miasmas and sanity-eating ghosts we have discovered a thief. This sorcerer came to the tower years ago, and was trapped in stasis within the tower’s automated defenses. I don’t know him yet, and he is fiend-blooded, but I have no reason to doubt he will work with us to escape this place. After that we shall see…perhaps he will join our band of troublemaking adventurers. I know well that evil and good are choices, regardless of ones’ parentage.

To the best of my knowledge he is the only other interloper however. It seems Xoud was not as anti-social as his legend claimed, and we have found the bodies of several of his minions, apprentices, and such here. All of them dead, many turned into something more vile.

As dangerous as the things that haunt this place are, I think we are going to need to camp soon. It is late, everyone is tired, and most of our magic is expended. Perhaps I can interview this Mr. Ledge. He has a dark past, that is clear, but I wonder what his future plans are. There is something that seems familiar about him as well, but I cannot place it…

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Journal of Shadow Mal part 19

Entry 175, Day 104, Morning

The giant’s camp proved to be a dead end. Whether the giants fled the area or all died is unclear, but they are well and gone. Far more interesting and terrifying was The Herald. A walk to the butterfly on the map proved that hill giants are, as always, a direct people. We found an open pit, and some fey creatures hiding in the bushes. After some effort trying to communicate with them as they watched us cautiously, an unimaginably enormous Monarch Butterfly of rainbow hue emerged from the pit to say hello in its implacable way.

A Herald of Desna, I never thought I would see such a thing. It was beautiful, which is saying something, since bugs tend to creep me out when they get up close and personal; but it telepathically spoke with a gorgeous voice. I may not follow The Great Dreamer, but meeting a piece of holy divinity is always an amazing andf wonderful experience.

It read our minds, which caused me a few moments hesitation, and gave us some advice. It also impressed Mr. Langstrom into its services, though he seemed happy to assist. In lieu of his alchemical expertise, the Herald sent one of its own to “keep an eye on us”. Mr. Mistoffeles is an amusingly dry fellow, and from what I know of pseudodragons he is quite a colorful character. His tale is a long one, best told some other time, but he is currently training himself in the arcane arts.

On advice of demigod, we set off west to find a strange dreamer, although The Gerald didn’t know what it was, the creature dreamed each night of an alien sky. After an hour’s walk and some time spent getting to know our new ally we came upon another ruined piece of the Androffan ship, mired in the midst of a shallow river. The delve had 3 layers to it, all badly rusted and waterlogged, and the area seemed to be useless. Susie suspects even before the rain of stars this particular piece of ship was nothing but storage and hallway, and all metal crates and containers within were empty or full of ruined unknowns. Flynn decided to keep one of the larger boxes for some unknown reason. Perhaps he plans to make an oven? Whatever the case, we put it in the portable hole and moved on.

Then we were attacked, or more accurately Mr. Sileet was attacked. Some twisted mix of Outsider and Ooze assaulted him from the water as he checked one of the underwater passageways. It contained some kind of technomantic crutch which gave it a forcefield, a force-based attack, and kept it from evaporating into incredibly poisonous gas. We tore down its forcefield but had to retreat from the poison. It was my hope that the beast would succumb to its own sublimation, but it seems it somehow managed to restore itself before expiring and began rampaging across the countryside the next day.

After some telepathic probing Mistoffeles determined it was “listening to our thoughts,” and heading our direction, presumably for revenge. We assaulted it with what protections we could prepare and made certain it was dead this time, taking it’s silver “crutch” as a trophy. Whatever effect it had on the force field is no longer functional, nor understandable. Still, silver is silver.

We spoke to The Herald again, it is strangely calming, speaking to the creature. I suppose that comes with being a keeper of dreams and seer of futures…hrm. Come to think of it, I wonder if I should have asked it about the future. Normally one doesn’t question demigods or what information they choose to parcel out, but occasionally that’s what they want. Regardless, we have a mission to complete in the tower. The Herald warned us it is dimensionally unstable, sometimes moving, sometimes disappearing, so we must be cautious, and prepared to be stuck within it for some time. Of what is inside, only this was given: there is a dreamer inside, it dreams every night of the dead body of a human wizard, being hatefully and horridly devoured by a crawling mass of worms. Hoped future? Angry memory? Self-loathing or the loathing of another? Time will tell.

Entry 176, Day 104, Noon

We have met the infamous Xoud, or at least his ghost. It seems one of his pre and post-mortem fixations was protecting his possessions, as this entire tower is trapped up and down and his ghost appears and hurls magical assaults whenever we “mess with his stuff.” The man was clearly a skilled artisan, his library is filled to the brim with complex drawings and architectural sketches of mechanical devices.

We discovered several traps, the second most deadly was his kitchenette, which contained flamethrowers powerful enough to roast an elephant. By sheer luck I was able to spot the danger and herd us out, but we had no means of disabling the trouble until I remembered Flynn’s metal box. He did his best turtle impression and after bumping into and knocking over everything there was to knock over he finally tripped the trap, taking little to no damage under his steel shell. Mistoffeles said something I didn’t understand about iron cobras or metal serpents or something, but he told me not to worry about it.

We found and fought 2 robots, and then all of us took a fire blast to the face as we found an entrance to the main furnace. Once we are done healing up and cooling off, we will be proceeding with more caution, and this time I will be more careful about checking the doors.

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letters Home
letter 16 (F#%k giants & doors)

Hello mom and dad,

There is a lot to cover and i am brief on time so i will try to keep the important stuff from leading to the trivial stuff.

  • Explored the rest of the underground dungeon and along the way released an invisible man/wind elemental from esentially haunting the place. He was thankful for that if you can imagine.
  • Next we released a highly volatile poison through out the ship that would quickly spread to the near by town. Luckily one of our party members as well as some other individuals in the region helped stop this situation before it could get any worse. And in the end the poison was gotten rid of entirely.(Took aoubt 3 days with that)
  • We next headed to a place called the Choking Tower for because of long reasons that will take up more paper than i can currently afford to lose.
  • when we got to the forest where the tower is located there were signs of deforestation machinery at work. We inspected the tower to investigate further and were met with a bitch of a door that won’t work without proper mechanism.
  • Searched around the forest for someone to help us and cam across a tribe of giants. two of them told us that this one robot in a nearby field held one of the parts to get into the tower.

This is where i find myself getting more immature and were i find out that giant can be FUCKING ASSHOLES just like anyone else.

  • We were able to defeat the security robot with some effort but before we could catch our breath the Giants we had talked to earlier were waiting to ambush us at the forest edge thinking we would be to weak to defend ourselves. THEY WERE WRONG!

All in all we did a LOT of walking, got to see some interesting places, though i wish there was a market or alchemist with us. Killed some assholes. And all in all driving by the seat of our pants.

Until next time,
your son,
Flynn S.

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Journal of Shadow Mal 18

Entry 171, Day 99, Lunch

We decided to check down one last hallway, and were immediately greeted by a trap which dropped two Hungry Flesh oozes on our heads. The battle was fierce, but with perseverance and quite a bit of fire we burned them out. The stench and the infectious nature of the beasts convinced my fellows that it was time to fall back and regroup.

Night passed uneventfully, and with the morning Susie and me were able to remove the cancerous infections of our fellows. Armed with the knowledge that an invisible stalker might be prowling these depths, I prepared a spell of dismissal along with my usual loadout, but more on that later.

Returning to the hall of charred liquid flesh, we were set upon by robots. These constructs were not particularly bright, and demanded that we give them Casandalee, the dead woman with a machine-spirit mind who we were looking. I stalled them for a time, attempting to get information as to whom they served while rummaging through my pack to “get her, you know, out of this bag.” Confused and illogical statements and demands were most of their side of the conversation, but they did drop one hint that they were hunting her for Unity. Servants of the Black are all-around dangerous, so I threw a coin at them claiming it was Casandalee (they seemed rather dumb) and combat began.

The leader of the pack was a chromed-out oddity with enhanced reactions and abilities, but the rest were fairly easy to dispatch. Bruce was forced to rely on my “primitive” crossbow, his mighty laser rifle not being equipped for punching through shiny steel. Ironically, I believe this marks the moment where my companions have used that crossbow more than I have. I cannot complain, Zex said it was for my protection, a purpose it is certainly serving.

After dispatching the constructs, we found a room full of technological junk which Susie believes has value, and we were introduced to Bob. Presumably his real name is some barely-pronounceable whisperings in Auran, but I will call him Bob because I neglected to get his real name. Sorry Bob. His last orders were to “wait here,” and 50 years of being bored left him eager to cut a deal with anyone who could help him break free of the spell trapping him here and send him home. Perhaps with a Dismissal spell.

He told us all that he knew, Xoud came here 50 years ago with a magically-bound Bob as his bodyguard. I am told he used a very surprisingly-small number of silverdisks to reanimate the mechanica and “turn on the lights” here. Then he slipped past any dangers, robots, or traps with a gaseous form spell and Bob in tow. Minutes later he found a female android’s body (presumably Casandalee), ordered Bob to “wait here” and teleported away.

After exhausting useful conversational options, I used my magic to send him away. I hope it was enough to get him home, but he was willing to accept the risks of “cheap berth” travel. It’s only a 20% chance of going somewhere besides home…

In any event, the only place left unexplored was a door marked with the symbol for poisons and hazards. As much as I would prefer to take those warning at face value and leave, we promised to try and discover the source of the Bad Water, and in so doing remove the Technic League’s interest in this area.

When we opened the door a cloud of mutagenic gas washed out over us and began to fill the compound. Most of us managed to avoid getting a lungful of the stuff, but Flynn was not so lucky. The room had been filled with the same substance that was slowly tainting the southern springs, and now it would be tainting a LOT more. For a moment I had a sinking fear that we had just doomed this entire village. Some conferring and planning renewed my hope, however, as we did the math and determined we could neutralize the poisonous gas if we could cast enough Neutralize poison spells. Better still, with the help of the high priest of Erastil and the trash speakers we will be able to do it in a mere two days.

Entry 172, Day 101, Morning

The past 2 days have been uneventful. The priest and I would dose up with poison-protection spells and dive into the miasma, neutralize some of the sources of poison, climb back out of the hole, remove any dormant poison in our own systems, and seal off the entrance again. Then we would rest and meditate, preparing for next day’s run. Flynn has not shown further malady from his unlucky dosing, but I fear only time will tell for certain. The poison is now neutralized, and in time the waters will run clear, which has pleased the Deadeye council greatly, and they are happy to overlook how we almost poisoned their town.

We now prepare to march northwest, to the Choking Tower. Natural lifespans suggest Xoud should be dead of old age, but you never know with mages. I am meditating on the best plans for dealing with a wizard who obsessed with air, smoke, and the properties of gases. Bob told us what he could of the man, but mercenaries rarely spend time getting to know their employer.

Entry 173, day 103, Morning

Stopped by the first line of defense. Xoud’s giant compensationGreat Tower is made of Glossite, and the only feasible entry is the enormous front door, which has had it’s unlocking mechanism ripped out, presumably by the giants who seem to be living in the area. Without the missing pieces, we have no hope of opening the door, the windows are too narrow for me to slip through, and chopping through the door, even with adamantine, would take days of effort and constantly repairing the tools used with magic. On the subject of the tower, it is an impressive sight. Some arcane or technological furnace is designed to spew smoke, I suspect merely for ridiculous decoration.

We are preparing to track the giants, though “tracking” is hardly a feat when a herd of giants is involved.

Entry 174, Day 103, noon

You might think that disguising myself as a Hill Giant would be foolish. After all, I am still elf-sized and cannot speak Giantish, but my reply is this: they are hill giants, and these logical arguments are far too smart for a hill giant.

We spoke to a pair of hill giants who seemed to be guarding their encampment. They said they had the piece of the door in question, and a weapon of construct bane, but that they would only give it to us after we killed a scary robot for them. I tried to argue that giving us this weapon would help us kill the robot, but again, hill giants and logic don’t mix very well. Reasoning that the robot was a hazard, we chose to take the job, and perhaps gain the temporary allegiance of the giants against Xoud. The giants themselves refused to come, having already lost several of their number to the rogue construct.

The robot was tough, and its sound weapon induced a powerful sense of vertigo and sickness on several of us during the battle. Mr. Langstrom once again used by crossbow, and sadly one of the bolts was lost somewhere in the guts of the machine, unable to be retrieved and repaired, but such is life. The fascinating thing about the machine was its accuracy. I have meddled with a few constructs in my time, but they are always clumsy, flailing things in combat, making up for lack of skill with size and raw power. This machine stitched us up with unerring shots of sonic energy and hit with the skill of a trained soldier.

After we beat it into submission the two Hill Giants revealed themselves. I hailed them in a friendly manner and they charged us. I pondered, for a moment, the stupidity of attacking a group that had just killed the thing that killed several of your own (in fact, possibly their entire clan) but then I remembered; Hill giants and logic.

We dispatched them quickly and found they were carrying the piece of the door, a pile of Noqual alloy, and a map and a plan of some interest. Noqual is a form of starmetal that hates magic. Were I to wear armor made of it I would suffer the same chance of spell failure that arcane casters face, yet it is light as mithral and hard as adamantine. Useful for a warrior who does not practice magic. The plan was, “kill robot, gets weapons from robot, test weapons on butterfly.” The “butterfly” on the map may refer to an enclave of fey. Before these were the “choking woods” I believe they were called the Fae Woods. At the very least, it is something to investigate for possible allies or information.

First, however, we should check the Giant’s camp. If they are ALL dead, then we should loot and if some are alive, we should confirm how many for interested parties.

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letters home
Letter 15 (The big summery)

Dear mom and dad

I know its been a few days since you have heard from me, and are probably worried seeing as how i normally send letter to you everyday. and because of this i have a LOT of things to talk about.

First thing first, there is an evil race of demonic blue chain/torture women that are strangely taken an interest in me. Haven’t really messed with me except with my dreams but as for now they are a minor treat.

Now for the schedule that i did in Torch during my down time for 3 weeks.

Week 1, Studied dragons and blue demons to find origins or weaknesses to both. At night i trained the local Torch Adjunct members of the local constabulary. Seeing as they all work for a former party member of ours that has put a lot of effort into not only providing security for the town, but have also set up a beneficial working system that everyone is happy with.

Week 2, I kept up my study habits but i also brushed off my blade work, for that way i could teach the non-combat oriented women, who happen to be professional entertainment troupe, how to properly hold light weapons.

Week 3, I didn’t do anything really noticable in this week except more studying as well as help anyone who was in need of a strong man. As well as resupplied my inventory.

We set off in search of a woman Casandalee in the East. The town that we came across was as anti-technology as you could EVER want to be. And it seems that the town is more “Connected” than more towns normally are. It would seem that there is a mutation problem that is going on underground and we are going to help the town out.

On a side not the blue women tried, and suceeded, to contact me in my dreams and tell me that they have an obcession with me. I wouldn’t mind this but they are evil and chaotic and are prone to random acts of non-provoked violence.

We meat these quirky druid brothers that can’t seem to get along even thought the only thing that they seem to have to argue about it the color of a creation.

Next up we went underground to search for clues and to find out what could have became of Casandalee. We ran into some (A LOT) of murder robots in the form of a swarm as well as an assassin bot that self-destructed when it thought it was going to die.

Gotta wrap this up for my next letter.

As always, your son,
Flynn

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Journal of Shadow Mal 17

Entry 168, Day 98, Noon

This morning I went to the local bar. Flynn tried the same thing last night, and while he apparently won the drinking contest, his winnings were eclipsed by his bar tab. I suspect he will not be joining us today, but time will tell.

The locals’ distaste for outsiders is expressed in many ways, including very uncomfortable lodgings, but after buying a few rounds of exquisitely terrible beer and listening to ridiculous local problems I was able to get a feel for the local color. The most helpful citizens (and the most ridiculous) are probably the trash brothers, who spend their days gathering filth and using druidic magic to stimulate crop growth and their evenings trying to create a new form of defense for the town. They have some species of plant or plant-like fey that can blend in with foliage and ambush attackers, though their current experiments remain incomplete. I say “ridiculous” because these two brothers hate each other, and feud bitterly over whether these Leshi-creatures should brown and blend in with the trees, or green and blend in with the grass and bushes.

I suppose this is what people do in small towns for entertainment, but aside from that there were a few points of interest. A clan of wandering Varisians are camped in a nearby apple grove, they purportedly come around this time of year for whatever it is they do on their wanders. More locally, there is a family of stonemasons always interested in finding custom for their quarry. I might have to purchase a block from them now that I think about it, after some consideration on the Kyton Problem I believe I have worked out a means of interrogation. It will take some prep-work, but I have the time and the extra-dimensional space. The local tannery once produced some sort of “Golden Leather,” they are very proud of their local map-maker, various other details I have forgotten since the conversations. I determined little else of note, except that the so-called “bad water” which causes the local mutations is not, in fact, why this beer tastes so terrible.

After a long breakfast of chatting, we made our way to the domicile of Redfang’s friend. I believe his name was Ivik? Ivik is another member of the Deadeye council (basically the local leading families) and wanted a low-key investigation to avoid panic and angry mobs. I made the point that wandering murderhobos are rarely good at subtlety, but was forced to agree that he had few options.

A few days ago a hunter shot a mutant bird, and was greatly concerned to find that it was actually some kind of metal construct in the shape of an owl. It was bearing a note written in Androffan, and was clearly a message of the Technic League’s intentions to investigate the bad water as well as the good fields, and they believe both these phenomena have to do with lost or hidden technology (obviously). The note further implied that searching for the source was dangerous, because it would blow the writer’s cover identity.

We investigated the bad water area, finding no obvious spring or hidden cave like in Torch, and we asked the nearby family (the stonemasons) if they had seen anyone. Things seemed to go nowhere until a child in the house revealed he had been playing in the toxic area and found a pair of “gold” (brass) “clapper thingies” (finger cymbals, also known as “zil”). Susie had a vague recollection that such instruments are common in Varisian culture. We offered the usual bribe for useful information (paid his parents) and are making our way to the apple orchard to speak to some Varisians

Entry 169, Day 98, Evening

The cold entrance was awkward, as Varisians are known for their bad reputation and defensive because of it. But after some discussion I was able to uncover that their people did sometimes assist people on the run, and that only one of their number currently used such accoutrements. Since I managed to avoid offending him or putting on a threatening demeanor, their speaker led us to her tent to speak with her. What we found was scattered and disarrayed tent of someone who had packed up and run away very recently. The speaker quickly revealed she had been a runaway of some sort, and that it is not their way to ask questions if a fellow traveler pays her way and makes no trouble. I respect this, since I have had my own need for “no questions asked” travel before.

While investigating the tent, I found a perch that had probably been used by a bird of prey (or a mechanical construct shaped like one) and Susie found a very damning note speaking of the woman’s spying efforts on behalf of the technic league as well as a set of explosive runes. We all survived, fortunately, but the tent will have to be broken down for salvage and no further evidence could be gathered from the ashes and debris. After consideration I recommended that the speaker of the group come with us to explain the situation and how his people were not involved in this technological “heresy”. The rest of the Varisians wisely began packing up to leave, as angry mobs are rarely discriminating in their hunt for a good target. I do hope they make it out all right, and did my best to back them up diplomatically. They are important to this town, and Iadenveigh is far too insular to conduct necessary trade without the assistance of groups such as their caravan.

At this point a council was called, which meant we had several hours to kill waiting for everyone to gather. Flynn rejoined us in time to visit the Trash Speakers. The two brothers were exactly as described, feuding hilariously and pointlessly over how best to protect the town. They were also able to tell me that something about the soil just beyond the bad water is special. Trees grow incredibly fast (a whole fruit-bearing tree in 2 years is not natural) and it seems samples of the soil retain these properties when dug up and moved elsewhere. After a brief flirtation with trying to bring the two sides together in their furious debate, we wished them both luck and wandered back to the meeting house.

The meeting was mostly a formality, everyone was informed of what they had likely already been told on the way in, that a League spy had been sniffing around bad water and good dirt, and it was quite clear that the technology they had tried to bury and ignore was not going to stay buried, no matter how hard they hoped or prayed to Erastil.

And so, we are off a well which was so dangerous the town elders felt the need to bury it under a magically-trapped rock. We may be skeletonized by a shimmering glow cloud of doom, but we’re taking the job.

Entry 170, Day 98, Evening

I am writing this to see if I have suffered any serious brain damage. After removing the cap and going down a well we discovered another tech dungeon. After some wandering about and dealing with a lighting trap of some sort we were assaulted by a flying ooze called a “nanite cloud.” I am told it was actually made of millions of tiny constructs, too small to see as anything but dust and very deadly. It buzzed and hummed and referred to us as “defective androids” while we desperately tried to kill it with our area-damage tools and tricks. Flynn in particular was chewed up badly. I shudder to think what would have happened had Bruce and his lovely frost bombs not been with us.

After the battle we discovered another one of those image records, which showed a man and an unclear outline in conversation as they plotted to delve this ruin and plunder it. Susie believes the bodiless entity was an invisible stalker, and it referred to its current master as Xoud, the technomancer from the smoking tower. Come to think of it, I need to see if we he spoke the stalker’s name, it could prove relevant.

Beyond that room was a mostly-collapsed chamber which was once VERY large, and appears to have once been an android forge. This was further evidenced by the summary assault of a band of badly-deformed and mentally unstable androids, presumably the result of being rendered “not defective” by the nanite swarm, or some such. The fight was going well until their assassin of a leader shot me in the back of the head with some kind of cold gun. I don’t recall much after that, something about Flynn burying them in knocked over shelves and the woman who shot me exploding with incredible force. I was still active, but I think some of the memories were too cold to form at the time.

We now have a stack of goo tubes that I apparently agreed to cast purify food and drink on tomorrow, and a pile of broken technology that the androids were attempting to fix by hitting it with hammers and praying to it. At least they weren’t slapping it with their dicks. So far everything down here is broken and useless, and I am lobbying for us to withdraw. It is late, after all, and except for Flynn most of us probably need sleep soon.

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