The Journal of Clownface

Campaign: Roar of the Lions

Chapter 3: It would be unfortunate
Amidst broken statutes, before a face forgotten and left to dust, she cried. I felt her beckoning sorrow emanating from the hole in the ground. Strangely repeating endlessly without release. It seemed a trap. Yet a kindred sorrow so familiar. Our paladin bravely descended alone first into the darkness.

On rope, we later climbed down to stand on shattered fragments of the past. My companions studied their surroundings. A cavern empty but for a lone ghost. I felt her sorrow swallow me and I fell to my knees clutching the shattered face on the ground. Remains of my holy Ehlonna, This was a place of her worship! The next I knew, someone whispered “Ajora” and then a whirlwind of horror and images of violence. A horrible scream and most of my companions fell to the floor near death. I looked into the face of a dead woman, vengeance in her eyes, I pleaded for my companions’ lives. Mentioned their folly. Sheep they were but not evil. Sheep in need of a better shepherd. She paused her killing stroke. Destroy the traitor. Find the heart. She disappeared before we could ask her to tell us more.

I healed my companions as best I could. My faith renewed. I was not dreaming. Ehlonna indeed has given me a sign, her holy symbol as proof. I tuck it close to my heart, a red smile blossomed across my face. I hope that we will uncover the truth about the betrayal unforgotten.

Some of my companions seem to have awakened, some doubt. But I can’t trust them yet, especially the followers of Ajora who were so easily persuaded by the Wolf’s message and magic. It would be unfortunate if I had to kill all of them. But we must do as we must to cut the weeds to let the roses bloom.
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Chapter 2: Agora, her Wolf and their flock of sheep
The time is upon us. We meet the Wolf, a veteran from the wars, who hears the voice of Agora in his ears directing him to action. He has met the High Confessor, the ‘Pope of Agora’ and Triss was impressed. ‘Free the people’ Agora said to him, destroy ‘Zurkden Fortress, kill the nobles’. The Wolf calls out to his herd and my companions. I draw the cowls to my face and persuaded the paladin not to go to see Agora’s truth. I saw them lead a prisoner with them to the ‘holy place’. I knew what was coming.

When my companions returned the ‘holy’ ones who went, the priest and the sorceress, fell to her message. Agora revealed herself beneath moonlight stars and they came back enraptured. They must kill the traitors against the cause, the two lieutenants who escaped with the Marquis. My other companions saw something more horrifying. The Wolf called out in a strange language – like Abyssal said our new companion, a scholarly elf – and Agora revealed herself with the fires of a burning human sacrifice.

We played along. Finding the killers and brining their heads. Perhaps Ehlonna also spoke to me, unlike the false Agora, when I persuaded the paladin to not go the ritual. With his mind intact, he was able to break the enchantments against the sheep-like trance with protection from evil. With mind cleared, Alasdair and Triss came to realise all was not right. Stupid sheep, following Agora should have been a sign. I’m beginning to fear I have chosen the wrong companions to find the truth. We agreed to free the Marquis and without a better plan to strike out against the Wolf, returned to his hideout. When we returned, the paladin voluntarily sought the Wolf to see Agora’s truth. As the Wolf led the paladin alone to the holy chamber, he carried the bloodied heads of the traitors with him. Stupid, stupid sheep. I sigh.
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Chapter 1: So they may taste of blood red berries
Loud. Much too loud. Tavern full of people speaking fearfully and full of pain. Munching but not enough to eat. Strong man wasting away. Fire crackling like a tempest. I draw the cowls of my cloak to my painted face. The first time in ten years I had returned to civilization. But must listen for the sign. Someone must listen before it is too late. Or maybe it is already too late… The room grows dark and I begin to drown in the darkest despair. The time of great upheaval is coming.

“We are seeking aid…” My eyes falls on a young man’s holy symbol. A man of the faith but from his voice, a hint of kindness? He asks me to join him. I shake my head but urge myself forward. He, a cleric and nobleborn, along with two other agents of the church. With another two, a bewitching spellcaster and a story teller. Will these be the ones to discover the truth? The ones to stop the great evil hidden in the light of St. Agora?

“What is your name?” he asks. No longer have a name. Living in the weeds for so long. Driven away for speaking blasphemous truths. Enemy. No name. I remember when I first put the paint to my face. Black to cover the bruises from my clan and kin. White to cover the everflowing tears. Red for the hunger to live on. “Clownface,” I say. I prove my worth to my new companions. I must prove my worth!

For now I return, with Ehlonna’s seeds to plant beneath the ground. So that they may grow past the cobblestone lies. Breaking, little by little the streets underneath so that we may return - glorious. Leaves reaching into the light and growing blood red berries. Let the starving eat and grow strong again. Let the children’s mouths fill with blood red berries. Truth. A revolution!
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Epic × 2!