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Samber
Posted in Imago Deorum
Samber's Journal: Entry IV
It has been many months since my last entry. I left my journal here in the safety of the dome. If they would go to such extents to stop me, I suspect that they might send clerics to find and apprehend me if I left the island, and my research is more important to me than my life. It is my life. I have been busy, and my diligence has again been rewarded. I have overcome. I, of course, have known about the alternatives to the Weave for many decades, but never have I had need to seek them out. Perhaps some of the gods are indeed on my side; Tymora, at least, seemed to have smiled on me, for what luck! That my journey to the desert should come precisely when it did! My power is back. What will you do to stop me now, O gods? ~ Samber
Session: 59th Game Session - Thursday, Sep 17 2015 from 6:00 PM to 9:00 PM
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Samber
Posted in Imago Deorum
Samber's Journal: Entry III
Well, it has finally happened. The gods have acted. Mystra withholds herself. I know not what part Gond plays in all of this; I only know that the Weave has been forbidden me. I cannot cast even the simplest cantrip. My investigations into the extra creativity of No.s 14 & 15 will have to be put on hold until I figure out what to do. I am enraged. How can Ao permit this? What have I done that warrants such a response? I am disgusted. What of all the wicked and despicable acts that have been done on this world with magic? She would allow those? Are they trying to convince me that the gods are but jealous and selfish children? Surely, Gond sees things differently? Are none of them on my side? I am naught but a worm now. I am powerless. I am even more alone.
Session: 59th Game Session - Thursday, Sep 17 2015 from 6:00 PM to 9:00 PM
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Samber
Posted in Imago Deorum
Samber's Journal: Entry II
I noticed an intriguing thing a few nights ago when I was performing routine patches to the Forokell's intellect centers. I was at the house No. 3 when I noticed quite an intriguing array of flowers planted outside in the small garden there. The roses had all been pulled and replanted such that they formed the abstract pattern of the head of a rose using the three colors of roses available to them. Curious, I reviewed the audio from the memory of No. 20, one of the newer models. It took several hours of scanning, but I finally learned that the one who calls himself Jareth had done it. I have looked up his number. It is No. 14, which is fascinating, because No. 15 is the one who is constantly making new clothing for the Forokell. They were made in the same week. As I noted in a past entry, she was originally intended to be a Lillikell, but I decided at the last minute to give her a Forokell intellect core. No. 14, however, was always intended to be a Forokell. I have spent the last few days digging through my old journals, yet I cannot figure out what I did differently with those two, but there must be a link between them. I'll have to put all of them in extended hibernation and bring the two anomalies back to the table for further investigation. ~ Samber
Session: 59th Game Session - Thursday, Sep 17 2015 from 6:00 PM to 9:00 PM
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Samber
Posted in Imago Deorum
Samber's Journal: Entry I
Yet another blank journal to write in. How many have I written since I set my mind to this task? How could I have been so foolish to have expected it to be easier than this? Always one more correction. Always a missing piece. Always one more thing I fail to understand. Yet it must be possible. Finder did it. The Beast Lord did it. I am not alone in the attempt, ...and yet I am so alone. I dare not make the mistake I did the last time around. The Forokell show so much promise, but I remain distant. I feel like a neglective father. The Lillikell can never provide what I seek. They lack the spark a few of the Forokell seem to have. Still, I fail to ascertain what causes that spark. Why do some of them have it and some of them do not? ~ Samber
Session: 59th Game Session - Thursday, Sep 17 2015 from 6:00 PM to 9:00 PM
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Lhynard
Posted by the GM
Imago Deorum
Chapter 7 — The Second Journal
A new excitement filled the group, as they carefully descended through the opening in the wall and lowered themselves down into the water. It was very cold, but it only was a foot and a half deep, so they managed. Kamil nuzzed angrily when they worked as a team to lower him down into the channel of water, but there was nothing the camel could do about it.

   The three-foot-wide waterway extended to from right to left. Leokas estimated that this meant that the water was flowing east, but it was hard to be certain, having been underground for so long. Immediately, to the right, the rubble from the collapse of the wall blocked passage; the only way they could move was with the water to the left.

   They passed carefully — as the stone was exceptionally slippery — for a hundred feet or two before the aqueduct made a 90 degree turn to the right. "There is the pipe we can climb," said Cassiera, pointing in the blue-lit darkness.

   "I'll stay down here with Kamil," said Belvin, "until we decide how to respond to whatever you find up there."

   The pipe was made of wood. They could see at the bottom that it had a screw projecting from it. If turned, water would be carried up the pipe. One by one, excepting Belvin, they climbed up the pipe, which was challenging because of the slipperiness, but the narrow walls aided them in the task.

   Coming into the room above, they were met with the smell of burnt paper and wood, finding it just as Cassiera described. Scattered everywhere were ash and the remains of furniture, at least some of which had clearly been bookshelves. It was a rectangular stone room. There was a single doorway on the right wall with an iron door. On the far wall were three large, blackened metal rings. Through the center one, they gazed upon a beautiful forest, as if through an open doorway. They had come into the room from below a stone water bowl, and a gear was there, which was used for turning the water screw they had just climbed.

   The roof was supported by four stone columns, and one of them had collapsed from the earthquake. Their was a final object of note in the room, what appeared to have been an open cube, whose edges were made from silver bars. The broken column had fallen through the cube and broken through one of the bars.

   "That was the bone devil's prison," said Szordrin. "Silver is used for the binding of summoned beings. The falling column from the earthquake is what must have freed it."

   "No one move about," said Leokas. "Let me find tracks first."

   It was an easy task with all of the ash. Three beings had clearly been in the room since the fire. Leokas found the bare feminine footprints of Cassiera, larger, booted prints, and still larger skeletal claws of the osyluth. "The osyluth's prints begin somewhere in the middle of the room, not from within the cube," explained Leokas. "They then go directly toward that center portal. That means the fire started after the osyluth was freed, but it leads out the portal, not through the crack below the fountain. Are we dealing with two bone devils?"

   "What of the other tracks?"

   "They came from this doorway and have moved about almost the whole room. Then, they too exit through the portal."

   Mythlos walked up to the portal and peered through. Szordrin began searching around in the rubble and ash. The former succumbed as usual to his curiosity and stepped through.

   "Mythlos!" Sound, however, did not pass through the magic gate. They saw Mythlos glance around. Then he game back through.

   "That was foolish," said Hakam, "yet not at all unexpected."

   "It is a most beautiful woods," said Mythlos, "and now we know that the portal is stable and not an illusion."

   Ilthian gasped. "There are no trees back here!" She had walked around to the back side of the portal and was trying to make sense of magic beyond any she had ever seen.

   "It looks just like my homeland," said Leokas.

   "I believe it is your homeland," said Szordrin. "Look at this!" He had found a leather journal, unburnt and cast aside among the other debris. "It's Samber's journal!"

   "Who is this Samber you keep mentioning?" Ilthian asked, but no one answered her. They all rushed around Szordrin. "Belvin! Climb up here and join us."

   The wild elf did so, and Szordrin read key sentences from the final page with text.

   "'...Clear tracks lead right through the gate to the High Forest...' He thinks the osyluth went to the Forest and is pursuing him. Either there are two or the devil deceived him."

   "The latter is far more likely," said Hakam.

   "'...I am leaving this book here in the open in the hope that, if the devil slay me, at least the intruders to my island might stumble upon this and learn more....' See, it is written to us. He dropped this here intentionally."

   "That's only the last page. What does the rest say?"

   "I cannot read it. I don't speak the language. Only the last page is written in Common."

   "That is the Draconic script," said Cassiera, "but I do not know the tongue either."

   "Now we need Jayce," said Hakam. "It is certainly Lantanese, just like his previous journal from the mummy's chamber. Like Belvin, I focused my prayers on combat spells this morning."

   "That is the 'writing language'," said Ilthian. "All of our books are written in that tongue."

   "Your books are written in a different language than you speak?" asked Leokas.

   She nodded. "I do not know why?"

   "So you can read this?" asked Szordrin.

   "Yes, let me see." She took the journal from Szordrin and began reading.

   "'Yet another blank journal to write in. How many have I written since I set my mind to this task? How could I have been so foolish to have expected it to be easier than this?...'"
Session: 59th Game Session - Thursday, Sep 17 2015 from 6:00 PM to 9:00 PM
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