Do you go to the dungeon?

Table of Contents


Zakhara month names:

  • Taraq
  • Masta
  • Magarib
  • Gammam
  • Mihla
  • Qawafil
  • Holy day of Ahad
  • Holy day of Atnen
  • Holy day of Salas
  • Holy day of Arba
  • Holy day of Yasad
  • Safa
  • Dar
  • Riyah
  • Nau
  • Rahat
  • Saris

Months have 30 days, and the five holy days don't have any months, they just come after 30th of Qawafil and before 1st of Safa.

Första taraq börjar året,
nästa masta kommer näst.
Magarib, gamman har knopp i håret,
Mihla, qawafil blommar mest.
Safa, dar och riyah,
härlig sommar är det då.
Men nau och rahat
och saris är så grå.

#boatmode Session Zero

The party is

  • Jalara abd-Jamil, a bugbear corsair
  • Djut, a goblin corsair
  • Keeze, a goblin sa’luk
  • Na’im al-Qadib, an air genasi flamewind sorcerer

Everyone has a shared goal: to get onboard a ship by capturing the Sea Ghost. Unfortunately they don’t really know much about that ship.

The two corsairs also want revenge on the pirates on Sunless Island.

Keeze and Na’im have a shared past… that they don’t know about. They’ve both suffered memory loss. They used to be level 12 characters with some kind of relationship – the nature of that relationship is still a mystery – but one of them used a Wish “I wish we had never met” which reset their lifes and wiped their memories. Back to level 1. Back to the old fishing village.

Keezes dagbok

jag vet att jag har minnesluckor men det är ändå inte så konstigt efter alla fester jag varit på och allt man rökt, druckit och testat på där

ta det lugnt?! haha nej det kommer inte hända. måste ju hänga med i svängarna, skvallra, dansa och allt det där… jag är en livsnjutare in i märgen

men… det känns som att jag har varit vassare med kniven och snabbare på fötterna eller att jag borde vara det, en mycket märklig känsla… det känns som deja vu varje gång jag lär mig något nytt!

fast jag kommer mycket väl ihåg mitt kall och uppgift här i livet… ja även vi tjuvar har vår heder och mästare som ger oss uppgifter ibland

jag kommer också ihåg mina drömmar om att en dag grunda en stad för alla tjuvar, tiggare, gatubarn, rövare och andra på samhällets botten

som en ny Hawa ungefär… jag har varit där en gång, det minns jag, ett fantastiskt ställe!

och givetvis kommer det finnas plats för ett rejält bibliotek för vad vore en fest utan er magikers fyverkerier och konster?

men först måste vi hitta ett lämpligt ställe att grunda en stad på och för att göra det så behöver vi en bra båt

Taraq 1

The Tale of the Dock Worker

One day at the docks while unleading heavy crates for Andar bin Solmor's trading company, a dockworker overheard three bums that seemed out of their luck. "I'll offer them a job", he thought, and said that they could work with him for seven dinars a week. More than enough to cover a modest lifestyle, with food and stay at one of the local inns. "That's not enough for us!" they answered. "Fools", he thought, "who does not know the value of steady money." But he told them "If that's not enough, you might inquire with Mahnaz al-Qudra, she might need sa'luks such as yourself to guard her mine." "Sa'luks! We be not sa'luks!" they snarled. "We want to work as scribes, sorting papers!" "Well," the dockworker replied, "that's probably still going to be about the same pay as here" "Not enough!" they said. "Give us better work!" "What fools have Fate wrought", he thought.

The Tale of the Three Thieves

Hanna bint Rist at "Fiskelinan" tavern had a rough night. It was tough sleeping even though she tried to cover her head with a pillow because she was hearing weird noises from her next door neigbor, Gufsha.

Early in the morning, a corsair and two sa'luks came to visit her little establishment. At first, they seemed helpful. They even helped her find her family heirloom necklace. Nothing valuable, just sentimental, but it meant a lot to her. They asked if she had any suspicions and of course her thoughts led straight to that weirdo, Gufsha.

All well and good. But. While she had left them to guard the tavern, they must have stolen the bottle of mom's lobster wine. Later they came back with Mahnaz, the owner of the silver mine down the coast, and tossed coin around and took her pillowcase and her bedsheet.

The Tale of the Bullied Academic

Gufsha was a scholar. She kept to herself mostly. Why did everyone always suspect her? Why did people always came knocking on her door, haunting her?

Taraq 2–9

The Tale of the Last Askari

Eleven of us askari were sent to the silver mine. The dead walked there. Familiar faces to these askari. Faces that they hadn't seen in a long time.

And the dead were armed.
And the dead fought well.
And our lives were harmed.
And our brothers fell.

Two of our number fled. They just broke ranks and ran, after seeing their friends die to this frantic horror under the ground. The blades swung from bone arms that moved jittery and spastically, almost like a trick of the eye. The half-composed bodies who would take spear-wound after spear-wound and never blink. Eyes unmoving, lids unclosed.

When I was a child there was an old woman who would go to the souq two times per a tenday. We would all laugh at her funny way of walking, almost as if she was dancing with every step. She would smile at us. My father told me that she had been his teacher in her youth. But this was many years ago now and now I am a grown man.

Today I had to kill her thirteen times while she tore the last of my friends apart. Only I remained.

Afterwards, two men showed up. Mining operations officers, sent by the owner of the mine. They said they needed to cut the heads of my people. "Just a formality," said they. "So we can prove that we have killed these creatures," said they. "I'm hope you understand". They took stock of the fallen, friends and foes, and loaded them up like crates on a wagon of djinni wind.

The Tale of the Bravest Animal

Come gather round! This bottle contains a magic potion that will make you friend to all animals. Only fifty dinars! An elf came to me, they said they wanted to win the animal's test of bravery but had been defeated by the wolvenkind. I sold them a bottle of this very potion and then they returned with a crown branches on their head, with regency over wolf, beast and eagle. Friend to all beasts!

I asked them how they had won over the littlest sparrow, who, while trembling, is steadfast and true.

They told me:

Embracing Fate, you become embraced. Supple, breathing gently, you become reborn. Clearing your vision, you become clear. Nurturing your beloved, you become impartial. Opening your liver, you become accepted. Accepting the World, you embrace Fate. Bearing and nurturing, creating but not owning, giving without demanding, controlling without authority, this is love. We have no Fate but the Fate we are given.

To this, the sparrow replied "♫poo♫tee♫weet♫".

The Tale of the Clear Water

On a high cliff by the coast four miles from Safaq on a hot day there stands a well. The water is clear there. The water is cool there. The water has blood and venom there.

At the bottom of the well, fourteen dirhams glistened, the glints of lights like notes on a pungi flute. Charmed dwellers in the wall of white stone.

Now there is no glint. Now there is no joy.
Now there are two workers digging in the ground.
Trading calloused hands for coin and books.

One is burying their goblin-kin, their anchor in the Land of Fate, their hope and their future.
The other is burying his past. His forgotten everything and other half. He is burying his wish.

Taraq 9

The party now is

  • Umaji min-Hakiyah
  • Talara adb-Jamil
  • Na'im al-Qadib
  • Djut (absent)

The Tale of the Brine Hand

Call me the Brine Hand.

I lost my leg at sea and I lost my best friend there. They couldn't even give him a true burial. Sometimes I even wonder if he is really dead. I worship Hakiyah, the sea breeze, the god of truth. I want answers. I've put my weapons in the ground. I serve as imam in the small seaside town of Safaq. It'll do, this little town. It'll do. We have a sailor's graveyard here. Memorial stones, mostly. But sometimes sa'luks… no, sometimes heroes come with bones of the sea and we give them an honorable grave.

I look out over the waves at night. I listen to the waves' crushing sounds. Sometimes they feel peaceful. Other times they feel suffocatingly restless.

The Tale of the Endless Night

Gufsha; I still think my name is beautiful. I remember my mother braiding my hair and saying my name. They say I'm Gross-Gufsha, Disgusting-Gufsha. But I know who I am. I'm just Gufsha.

They don't let me see the sun. My dawn is when the dwarves light their lanterns, shining on the silver lode. My day is the pick, heavy in my hands. My music is the sound of rocks breaking. My company is the whip lashing. My fashion is the manacles and chains. My evening is the dwarves leaving, taking their lantern lights. My night is a bed of stone.

There is no true time here. There is only the cycle of work, sleep, eat, work and sleep and eat. I am not here. There is only darkness and stone. As my hope dies, so does my true self and my true name. Gufsha, the child my mother loved… I can't let her into this mine. Gross-Gufsha, Disgusting-Gufsha, Necromancer-Gufsha… that is who holds the pick. That is who is trapped here.

The Tale of the Goddess' Touch

I am a soldier. An askari. I work for the good of the village of Safaq. On Hakiyah's day I go to the mosque for prayer. My sword and shield belong to the city but my liver belongs to my goddess.

Im'ran. I take the name Im'ran min-Hakiyah.

My goddess brings light through Umaji, one of the five novices studying under Velmar "the Brine Hand" to become an imam of my goddess. She provides me with what I need. Umaji's voice speaks loud and true. The night tries to crush me with falling rocks. I do not hesitate.

The sea breeze of dawn shines through me and the word of my goddess heals me. We have no Fate but the Fate we are given.

I do not know of gods and of godly things. My way is the way of sword and shield. My way is a simple way. Sharp and clean and true.

Taraq 9–10

The Tale of the Mad Cavern

The darkness was beautiful there. Shadows pooled like water. The cavern wasn't formed naturally. Someone had dug it but without rhyme or reason. My master's friend Djut tossed a couple of torches into the distance and around the flickering point of light faraway, the harsh crisp marks in the stone left shadows like soft caresses and feather downs. It was an awe-inspiring sight. Tufa, our genasi's parrot, flew hundreds of feet but couldn't reach a ceiling in this massive cavern.

The Tale of the Forgetful Dwarf

I usually move so silently in the night, and so tenderly I plunder the bags, with my expertise in dex checks. But for the first time in years, the mark woke up. At first I thought I was just unlucky, that he had woken by coincidence, rather than me making a mistake. But when I saw him I realized at once what I was dealing with. The geniekind have many frightful talents. Now I have learned that they may sleep without sleeping, and hear without hearing.

The Tale of the Recent Dead

There is a house up the coast, East of Safaq, and west of Mahnaz' Mine. A man went there. A faris, in armor, with shield and sword.

The dwellers in the dark slew him, and when his body was cold, dozens of eggs were laid in there and dozens of maggots made their home there.

A man with the blood of djinn disturbed their abode with a hand of wind. The maggots poured forth like milk through cloth.

Into a goblin, pure of liver, they started drilling.
The many maggots stung like thorns in briar.
The flamewind mage lit up the skin with fire,
and in their dying breath they took to killing.

Taraq 10

The party now is:

  • Jalara abd-Jamil
  • Na’im al-Qadib
  • Umaji min-Hakiyah
  • Lamsa abd-Husam

The Tale of the Goat Herders

What a strange follower we found, who wanted to deliver a rat to a novice of the temple of Hakiyah, but carrying an urn of ashes as if it were an atlas of the cosmos. What is there to learn from the dust of the dead? What is there to glean from their smoke and markings?

No, I learned all I need to know right here under the starry sky. There are many djinni and efreeti in the Land of Fate but the concern of me, my brothers and my sister is for this flock of goats to be safe and grow strong.

In stillness I take rest underneath the cypress shade while my goats graze the commons.

The Tale of the Barred Door

In that big house there is a cellar carved into the sharp cliffs by the sea. That cellar is but a tiny gash into Toril's rocks but enough to shield it from Selan's light.

In that cellar by the crackling fire we eat our dinner at the long table, break our bread together. This is our home.

Our beds are here. Our fellowship is here, our livelihood.

It's just that… that pounding on the barred door keeps waking me up in the middle of the night. In my nightmares I see those… can I even call it "faces"? What we locked in there… I see them smile at me, kindly at first but it turns cruel and gnashing. Their hollow gaze pierce my soul.

I wake from my nightmares when I hear them pounding on that door. I hear the creaking of the metal bar. O, Najm, let it hold.

The Tale of the Hidden Vial

Potions of healing, greater potions of healing, even supreme potions of healing… small bottles all. But I have through my decades-long alchemical research created a wondrous substance. The strength of ordinary potion of healing, that's true… but concentrated such that two doses fit in a single tiny vial. Two doses! One-fiftieth the size of one normal potion of healing.

I dare not leave this substance on my person. What if I roll over in my sleep and break it?

I have constructed a hidden compartment in my desk drawer, under the old receipts and miscellanea I store there. The vial wrapped in cloth is hidden there, and the drawer is locked.

Taraq 11

The Tale of the Mud Mephit

Steal a goat! Tarnish Hakiyah's temple!
Throw dirt, throw mud!
Sink a boat! Let all ships dissemble!
Flow dirt, like blood!
We've got conch to make our kind appear
Make a door under the sea
Through that door the Land of Fate is near
In that land we can roam free!

The Tale of the Orcish Millers

O child of my liver, the Loregiver tells of a couple of orcish millers who lived in the cliff city of Warth al-Keel. Everyday they would bake their bread and eat it and sell it. This was before the enlightened time and everyone in this village worshipped the kraken Valaastroth. The kraken would visit the town once every ten years, giving orders and taking treasure as tribute.

In the age of the Loregiver, a priest of Hakiyah, named Trandence al-Ek, visited Warth al-Keel. He ate of the bread. He showed the true wind and strong wave of Hakiyah.

The people built a strong mosque to Hakiyah. But when Valaastroth returned years later, they were furious at the people of Warth al-Keel. Vaalastroth broke the cliff and sent the town into the water.

The Tale of the False Priest

Istishia, the cold god of water, opposed the enlightenment of the Loregiver. Istishia only wants the world to drown. But al-Ek loved Istishia in his liver.

al-Ek knew that Hakiyah's light, life and truth would turn the livers and minds of the citizens of Warth al-Keel in a way that the cold waves of Istishia never could. Only by posing as a priest of Hakiyah could he gain a foothold there, build a temple there. But al-Ek loved Istishia in his liver.

al-Ek knew that if the citizens of Warth al-Keel had turned to Hakiyah, away from the kraken Vaalastroth, the kraken would break the city. The city would fall from its sunlit cliff into the cold water. Into the waves of Istishia. The people in the city would drown. al-Ek too would drown. Every man, woman and child in Warth al-Keel would drown. But al-Ek loved Istishia in his liver.

Taraq 11, evening

The Tale of the Broken Portal

They broke the portal
and I came out wrong
I was half cut off,
half buckled,
and half whole.

My sister came after me
the portal was grey dry glass
it was a thousand fractures.

Mephits shone through a cracked lens
refracted and multifaceted
unique and wonderful.

But when the conch is gone
the portal is no more
and we can’t go through.

The Tale of the Kraken’s Ball

Let’s dance for the kraken!
Let the night begin!
As the world is dying
we’ll be among kin.

Vaalastroth is coming.
Leaving his true mark.
While he starts to eat the world,
we’re dancing in the dark.

In his chandelier there are
a thousand brilliant lights.
Stars that light the ballroom’s floor
under endless nights.

Warth al-Keel will serve him
to honor his soft form.
He whips his arms like lightning
in a sudden storm.

The Tale of the Honest Novice

Lankus, let me tell you about these no-good sa’luks and their “missions” to my mine…

Mission one, they tell me they’ll find the source of the undead that attacked us there. Good job, just repeating the rumor-whispering of your collegue over the other tavern, Hannah. That was the most expensive message delivery service I’d ever paid for.

Misssion two, they tell me they’ll stop the zombies and skeletons. They show up when it’s all over, grab the bodies and come here to claim the rewards. Glad I got out of that one, or that would’ve been the most expensive body transport service I’d ever paid for.

Mission three, they tell me they’ll find where that monster in my mine came from and how come it was dead and who broke through to the mine from the other side. I was just about to pay them for that too. But thanks to that new guy in their group, the honest novice and his sister, I dodged that arrow. That would’ve been the most expensive efreet story telling hour I’d ever paid for.

Taraq 12

The Tale of the Pumpkin Head

Just an ordinary pumpkin head on a moonless night. There is candlelight flickering inside it. Teeth are square, eyes with brows corrugated and cruel. You could tell that when you get bit the marks are going to be square holes.

The sound comes from outside of the house. Or so it seems. It's not in here with us.

The flesh is stringy and wet, stuck between yellow teeth. A darkness pierced by warmth and a happy smile greets you. With joy someone carved me and presented me. A celebration.

The Tale of the Sand Rat

You don't understand what Ökensand had been looking for, or the price they would've been willing to pay for it if they had found it. They're beaten up, messed up, mistreated and scared and the journey was longer than it had any rights to.

Beyond years; longer than what's tracked on the calendar or map. Paws callused by grit. Small black pearl eyes darting with caution.

Not only is the rat finally home now after a long quest. They carry a liverful of despair and resignation. Having learned the hard lessons of life. You have to walk that desert all alone.

The Tale of the Magic Wand

There are many more colors than the sun can burn away from our vision. Covered over by the shallow colors red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet are the eight true colors of the weave. Fuligin, grue, hooloovoo, octarine, smaudre, gloxym, jale and ulfire.

To see them is to see the world as it really is.

How easily the world breaks, fractures like a velvet egg. It shines as it breaks in a dry and dusty neon. Dances over our faces like wild water caustics. Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes and she's gone.

Na Ims dagbok

Kära dagbok.
Idag har vi haft en mycket intressant dag.
Allt började redan under morgonkaffet. Jag kunde se hur värdshusvärdinan nästan fick en leverattack av att se Jalara i dörröppningen. Det visade sig att Jalara hade fått tag i en stor magisk pumpa, så även grönsaker kan vara magiska.
Kanske det är bättre att skaffa en egen bostad i byn, verkar ju som mina vänner bara ställer till problem för lokalbefolkningen.

Vi besökte det "hemsökta" herrgården utanför byn för att hämta upp de kvarvarande kropparna så att de kan få en riktig begravning, men det verkar vara någon eller något som transporterat bort kropparna.
Efter lite undersökning av huset så hittade vi tecken på att det verkar vara "bootleggers" i farten. Dels är det brandyfaten i källaren, men även att de har kommunikation med ett skepp ute på havet. Kanske ska jag ta med faten till Hanna så att hon kanske blir lite lugnare. Hon verkar ju gilla lite av de starka dryckerna.

Jalara verkar fortfarande inte förstå att elementarmagi är verklig. Detta även fast hon fick prova på att själv använda en Detect Magic från en wand. När inte ens detta hjälper så vet jag inte vad jag ska göra för att få henne att vilja överge sin antitro. Kanske Umaji kan göra något för henne.

Vi verkar ha en spion i gruppen, den där ökenråttan är en farlig motståndare. Verkar bara vara jag som förstår problemet med en ond elementar magiker i gruppen.
Måste vara någon konstig magi som ökenråtta tagit över Umaji med, kanske ska jag fråga Salta Handen när vi kommer tillbaka till staden. Parasiter brukar ju kunna döda sin värd om man inte är försiktig med separationen.

Sist men inte minst så råkade Tufa nästan ut för ett otäckt öde. Men jag han i sista sekund rädda henne från att uppleva döden. Prata om problem med ohyra i denna herrgård.

Taraq 13

The Tale of the Modest Home

Clean face before the morning prayer.
Breakfast of bread, curd cheese, olives and dates.
The coffee is dark and bitter.
The evening meal is the largest of the day.
Scooped up with flat bread.
An evening of telling tales.

My son was chosen by the gods.
My daughter signed herself away to the courts of air.

A scent of the sea on the breeze through the window.
The day is done. I lay off my burden. Each day a new day.

The Tale of the Committed Researcher

It's not that I don't want to work on this whole gold thing. I do. I want to find the truth.

I've selected solitude so I can study. So I can read and try to find the secret of making gold. To create the philosopher's stone.

If I just… Maybe tonight I'll find the answer.

The Tale of the Silver Sinker

Pfffsht! Whaddaya talking about, Ibrahim! No way 200 dinars is "too much money for a fishing rod, even if it's pure silver". Take a look at this thing, it is absolutely baller!

So, wanna go fishing this weekend? We can go on your boat and we can take this fantastic silver beaut for a spin!

Taraq 14–20

The Tale of the Small but Scrappy Istishia Cult

We have swords and we will attack Safaq. Any questions? We will destroy everyone who lives there. Kill the town guard, the citizens. Just the eight of us will do that. On our own.

The Tale of the Comforted Poor

They say there is a house in Safaq where you can go when you're at the end of your rope. When you have nothing and you want comfort, you want shelter. You can find blessing there and they will take care of your soul for you.

The Tale of the Harbor Riots

A fish drying facility was burned to the ground in the riots over arrests of alleged "smugglers" last week. The protesters demanded the release of the suspects held by Eli and his town guard.

Taraq 20, continued

The Tale of the Six Faris

Knocked out by poison gas! But two awoke after just one hour. The others woke up later.

The Tale of the Six Guards

To work as a guard in the House for the Poor's Comfort in Safaq you need to be motivated because there is not a lot of money. But you will be provided for. Food, shelter and faith. Now hiring, because the other six guys died.

The Tale of the Thunderous Acolyte

All it takes to get burninated by the party is one little Thaumaturgy.♥ Luckily you can flee at the last second! Famshuna ftw!

Taraq 20–26

The Tale of the Shattered God

O, liver of mine, Q'xetl was a young god.
He wanted souls.
He wanted to harvest them, to eat them, to grow strange and strong.
To await his maw they pulled my limp body.
Into the howling portal they threw me.
With the many I became one.
When he fractured I remain—
split in shards.

The Tale of the Fish Thieves

We are kin of goblin, they say.
We were born in Safaq, they say.
We steal fish, they say.
We attack on sight, they say.
We shoot before asking questions, they say.
We have treasure, they say.
But what they cannot say
is that we survived the party.

The Tale of the Reckless Attuner

The Honorable, the Chief Qadi and the Associate Magistrates of the Court of Safaq al-Hadhar min Jumlat. Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! All persons having business before the Honorable, the Qadi of the Sultan, representing the Grand Caliph and ultimately the Law of the Loregiver, are admonished to draw near and give their attention, for the Court is now sitting. We have no fate but the fate we are given.

It is a crime against the enlightened to willingly smash people in the head with lethal intent.

But witness testimony seem to indicate that the accused, whom herebefore is present, was under the influence of the arcane: a weapon crafted with intent to stir rage; a berserker rage to protect its owner and keeper. Whether or not this is the unnameable Sloessa is a question beside the court's present ruling.

Even so.

It is a crime against the Law of the Loregiver to recklessly handle, attune, or possess cursed items to the extent that they kill, injure, endanger or encroach on the safety of enlightened beings.

That is a fine of 100 dinars for the first offense. Repeat offenders will risk exile.

Taraq 27

The Tale of the Generous Patron

Welcome, one and all, to my abode. My name is Andar bin Petra and this is my buttler Skerrin. Thank you for returning my fish. You may keep the gold as a reward. No, no, I should be thanking you, for without your help I would have no fish, no gold, no camels and no cart.

Rich? I don't know about that. Yeah, a lot of the fishing boats here are mine, and the fishers are in my employ, but I inherited a lot of that from my mother, Petra, and the same goes for this abode.

I've expanded the trading program a little bit, that's true. Just doing my best to keep the family name proud!

The Tale of the Plague Dealer

The Aalim family got sick from bad grains at the green souk. Umaji min-Hakiyah managed to contain the plague. A pickpocket reported some unusual garments in the merchant's bag. Khamu was his name, I think.

The Tale of the Arcane Alcohol

Under The Empty Net there is a strange smell. It is arcane and it causes strange behavior.

Taraq 28

The Tale of the Protective Wind

Accessing the elements directly is the power of elemental mages. To blow away gasses and fires is something they can do easily and then normal people can just duck under and avoid getting burninated.

The Tale of the Hose Scrape

Na'im, unfortunately, got sampled pretty thoroughly by some wondrous apparatus that tried to examine his constituents and he died.

The Tale of the Unbegotten Spoils

  • Crystal
  • Spellbook
  • Red-tipped wand (7/7 pyro)
  • Bok (Hemligheter med de vises sten med ett pergament)
  • Bok (Örter)
  • Crowbar
  • Bedroll
  • Thieves' tools
  • 10 rations
  • Key mine
  • 12 x light comp
  • Litet skrin med 11 candles och pergament
  • Vinflaska
  • Bläckpenna
  • Magiskt bläck 50G
  • Pure white clothes
  • Oil
  • Waterskin
  • 1000 ball bearings medium pouch
  • Bottle of ink
  • Mess kit
  • Small knife
  • Carved marble elephant
  • Hooded lantern med cover
  • Owlbear (nallebjörn)
  • Silvermetspö
  • 2x5 stone barrels of brandy
  • 4 sacks
  • 5 medium pouches fulla med light components — 5x5x6 Light components
  • vattenskin
  • Spade
  • Hammare
  • Abacus
  • Healers kit
  • 6 munkkåpor (Istishia edition)
  • bok med namn på folk som varit i templet
  • 3 × pergament
  • papper
  • Kulspetspenna från "Bank of Toronto" i plast
  • iskall dagger (cold iron)
  • 8 munkkåpor kolvita (Q'xetl edition)
  • half plate
  • Alkemist-böcker och papper
  • 2×Flaskor 16-7
  • 79 Dinarer, 97 Dirham, 18 kopparstyvrar, 29 Bonedisk, 1 Thay-guldmynt
  • 13 Light components
  • Mystery key
  • Silver Bell
  • Azur
  • Moss agat
  • Eld Opal värd 1000g
  • Perl worth 100g

It was truly a time of riches and wonder, o child of my liver! But we have no fate but the fate we are given.

Taraq 28–29

Tale of a Fallen Hero

When a hero falls, the gods cry and the monsters cheer.
But when a wizzard falls the rest in the party directly ravage through his belongings.
I, Suha, witness this first hand today.
The wizzard's body was not even cold and already the cleric in the party was spilling his belongings on the floor, and this is a believer in the truth accordingly to his faith.
Maybe they had a bet on what the testament said or if the wizzard had more then they thought.

A bloody sight he was, tubes and wires leaking out of his mouth and a scary sight in his eye.
At least I was there in Selan´s service to help clean him up before his maker he would face.

If he ever gets to walk the earth again only a higher power knows.
May Selan take mercy on his soul.

The Tomb and the Unwise

A great secret the wizzard had. Power over both the fire and the air for him to inferno make.
Fire to light the room and fire to burn, could this be the answer to a ceiling break.
But to escape this hot cage all the fire would do no good. Air on the other hand removes fire where it streams, or punches a hole in a wall it seems.
After all this I no wiser was. Maybe my master can finally teach me how to crystal clean, so I might someday a master make.

The Tale of the Treasure Hider

My name is Aulin, I'm a level six rogue, treasure-hider for hire, five dinars a week. My most precious possession: Sloessa!

Taraq 30—Masta 1

The Tale of the Fleeing Duo

Thirsty Salt is my name and the Clever Copper is my friend. We had to leave Sunless Island in a hurry and we were lucky to be picked up by the party and escorted to Safaq.

We had visited the Sunless Island with four sa'luks. A corsair Talgen al-Hukra, and his sister, a Wind/Water mage named Sharwin al-Hukra. Another corsair just calling themselves al-Karakas. And an outland warrior, "Sir Bradford", who carried the legendary magic sword Shatterspike. He did not speak midani, the language of the Loregiver.

But there were debbi on the island. Wild dog people! Not enlightened beings. Me and Clever Copper just had to run away quickly and left the adventurers to their fate.

The Tale of the Sleepless Night

Clean face before the morning prayer.
wash of the streaks, wash off the worry
Breakfast of bread, curd cheese, olives and dates.
set the table, stare at the food, try to eat some
The coffee is dark and bitter.
salt from tears
The evening meal is the largest of the day.
it sickens me
Scooped up with flat bread.
my hands do not obey me, they fall limply by my sides
An evening of telling tales.
i cannot hear them. my thoughts are with my daughter

My son was chosen by the gods.
hakiyah, you failed me. i blame you
My daughter signed herself away to the courts of air.
husam, scum among the djinns. your power came with death

A scent of the sea on the breeze through the window.
a lament of cold water breaks my spine
The day is done. I lay off my burden. Each day a new day.
this too shall pass

The Tale of the Flame/Wind School

The ten schools are secretive but the clothes from Flame/Wind in their blue and red are distinct. You do not meddle with their affairs. Sanbalet was not a well-known student. But even so; to rank among the very few who manage to graduate Flame/Wind as level 3 elementalists is not an easy task. It is doubly impressive to so as Sanbalet did: as a multiclass build. When you spend only half your levels on matters arcane, you need to work hard. As Sanbalet did.

Masta 1—Masta 7

The Tale of the Petulant Crew

I am Bemir. Soldier for Hakiyah and her truth. Not a galley slave put to rowing and heisting ropes. The air genasi refuses to work. The priest puts us to work on his fruitless expeditions. Travel exhausts me.

The Tale of the Dark Stairs

Durrar Island is a name you don't often here these days. It's more often referred to as the Sunless Island. They say that debbi have been sighted there. And rats. They say that the pin fruits grow there twice every year.

On that island there are stairs that descend into the darkness. Eleven steps to the first landing. The first landing is five by ten. Fifteen steps to the second landing. Those fifteen steps had blood spatter. The second landing is ten by fifteen. The stairway continue down from the second landing.

It's a five-foot-wide staircase. Steppes carved out of the Durrur rock itself.

The Tale of the Packed Bag

Call me the Brine Hand.

Umaji min-Hakiyah was my acolyte, then my novice, then my priest, and I had looked to him to be my successor. But the village is in pain under his leadership. He was my pupil, my charge. His failings are my failings.

A mosque cannot survive with two heads.
A flower cannot blossom when it is drowning in water.
Too much attention is as bad as too little attention.

I put my weapons in the ground here. I made Safaq my home. I have tried to steward it. Being focused on its present, I have failed its future.

I will search for another village to show the truth of Hakiyah. But I will settle for just a bed for me and my weary leg.

Masta 7

The Tale of the Looted Storehouse

Door locke picked by thieves' tools. Mafera refused to say what she saw.

The Tale of the Hill Kahin

There is a new Kahin in the party! Sa'ma

Also eight faris.
A'ina, Be'ina, Se'ina, Dinah, Ereena, Felina, Ginna and Heina.

The Tale of the Sea Ghost

There it lay, out on the black waters of a moonless night. The Sea Ghost. The legendary smuggling vessel.
Lantern-lit on a windy night.

Masta 7–8

The Tale of the Leaves' Comfort

The Sea Ghost, in those times, had a deck wizard named Punketah, of the wind/sea school. The school is in the old city of Huzuz.

Punketah was sitting together with me, and with a group of men, in a place of Ajiya when the wind made her stop, and stand up. She saw that I was weary of the sea, sick of the endless waves, so she offered me some leaves of the catastrophe tree to chew.

To go to where rivers flow, overlaid with sand and covered with a kind of paradise where there is no water and where nothing can be said between the paths of the sacred sand.

Only the sun with its fierce rays and the moon with its waning days and nights, and nights and days, and the two of them are my companions.

We are here together in a place of dry, soft sand, in a kind of paradise where there is no water and where Punketah sleeps with her head in my lap, and with her hands in her pockets, tightly grasping the remaining leaves, and where the water is only marked as the kingdom of the Crowded Sea and of the three-eyed god.

The Tale of the Three Lizalfos

Each of the three lizalfos has a distinct personality and keeps his own secrets from his family and friends. The three lizalfos are always in the dark about the location of the pseudodragon so that they can not be seen by travelers.

Jira abu-Fevis is the only one of the three lizalfos to have a secret lizard-home, which he keeps under the roof of his house.

The three lizalfos sealed their lips with their tongue and the smugglers are unfaithful to their sworn oaths and are unsure of how to proceed. The three lizalfos are desperate and are dismayed to find that their oaths are broken.

On their own, the three lizalfos are incapable of magic, but they are constantly reminded of their magical bond and the weapons they have promised to carry.

The three lizalfos and one pseudodragon are not to be underestimated, and no mortal can hope to outrun them. The other beings in the wilderness are so small and insecure that few cares to be near the local tribes, and are in no position to sit on their lot and risk the wrath of their distant cousins.

The tribes are as numerous as the human tribes in the wilds and are spread out over the land as far as the eye can see. The tribes are led by kings and emirs and by clans of mercenaries and pirates. They are not as organized as the human tribes but are more flexible and resilient, complete in their customs and more organized for their kind.

The Tale of the Safaq Council

The Safaq city council is founded on the purest of principles and none can point to anyone else to whom they owe their loyalty. No council can be trusted to predict events, as the council will only use the information they gain from the city watch and the barbershop gossip, and they will only trust themselves with their secrets.

The council does not lie.

Any council member who does is held to account by the sultan of the governing city, and the council is made up of the most respected of the members.

The Safaq city council has unanimously voted to ban noxious alchemy, to which the sultan of Jumlat, who has the power to do this, has agreed.

The group is led by Soldiers of the Enlightened Throne. The plan is to retain the custom on the Isle of the Blessed, and to have the council members elected by the people of the city.

The council members are chosen by the people of the city, but only the council is allowed to rule, and the sultans are appointed by the Grand Caliph himself, who can remove them at will.

The council is divided into three seats and each seat serves a different function so that the village is divided into three parts: the harbor, the souks, and the temple.

Masta 9

The Tale of the Poor Angel

Poor Angel, I give you a gift.
I gave you a gift,
and I gave you a gift, and I gave you a gift,
and a gift, and a gift, and a gift, and a gift.

Poor Angel.
To whom Fate has not granted a single good.
I have heard, O fortunate sultan,
that she was born during the winter monsoon.

Befuddled by the loss of her beloved.
Sons of the musical instruments,
And utter strangers in her own land.

In her anguish she recited:

When I feel my beloved, be glad;
for he will be the cause of my heart's desire.

All the while I keep silent,
as I do not know what is happening.

When I see him, I weep;
in my longing I say: "My darling, do not be dismayed; I am unwell."

When she had written this, the sultan of Jumlat summoned her, kissed her hands and said: "What is this?"

"I am unwell," replied the sailor, "and I shall take leave for a life on the waves."

Poor Angel. You have been so silly to be so hard to keep from weeping when you are in your death, and in your death you will be more than a burden on your enemies.

You are so naughty, so mean and so treacherous. Your sin has reached the point of being the cause of all.

You will tire your enemies of all your good, and when you have done this, they will say to you: "Where is your love and your grace?" and you will reply: "Death to you, old fool!"

Such is the power of passion that even when it is gone it will not return. This has gone on long enough.

Hail, you who have given us your life! You who have walked on the same path as those who hunger for it! Here are you one of those who is sad and despairs? How can you say to those who have turned away from the path of truth and have wandered in the darkness of its shadow?

If we are to be saved the way Fate and the Gods has saved us, we have to sing praises.

"Go serve on the waves", the sultan said. "The council of Safaq will find a ship for you, and I believe them to be trusted, but you report to me and to your rubban."

The Tale of the Palace Garden

"I have heard," said Abd al-Rahman, "that the marble statue of the Serpent Lord was brought up to the palace of the Pilgrim Dogs. I have not seen, however, any work on the part of any one of these great beings to make any of the statues."

Durrar Island, where al-Ashar and its shadow, al-Cryx reside, is a small and unassuming fortification. The walls and doorways are decorated with exquisite tapestries and gold leafs. The interior is lavish, with a huge dining room filled with banquettes, exotic fruits, and a spacious baths.

Durrar's most notable feature is the indoor garden housed in the palace of the Great and Glorious al-Ashar. Sun bathes the garden through the stained-glass citadel windows in a multifaceted, geometric tiling of all colors. The centerpiece of the garden is the arboretum and its strong and everlasting tree.

The Tale of the Angered Queen

Yusdrayl, queen of the debbi, smiled and said: "You have been beautiful in the way you have carried yourself, but as I have told you before, there is something that is bothering me." She continued: "we have been very kind to you, Meepo, but I don’t know how you can be sure that we are not mad."

When the old queen said this, Meepo was afraid of her and said: "It was none other than the al-Hadhar, goblins and such, and I have already told you everything that I know."

When the old queen heard him say this, her anger turned to hatred and she said: "I have heard the other debbi say that the serpent's keeper is a coward, and I have to ask you, Meepo, to tell me that you are not cowardly."

The much-scarred debbi replied: "Yes, I am not cowardly, but it was under my watch that our serpent, al-Cryx, was stolen."

Masta 9, noon

The Tale of the Terrible Weapon

Yusdrayl, queen of the debbi, and all the people of the city. She has a strict system; she has a set of rules that govern her people, and every day she imposes a harsh punishment on anyone who breaks them. She is prepared to punish anyone who disobey her, and she doesn't hesitate to do so. She has a strict code of conduct and a code of honor, and every day she gives a punishment to anyone who breaks them.

The beast’s tongue is a terrible weapon, and it is more evil than any other weapon. It lets a creature swear an oath, as if it were a magical weapon, but only those who swear will know its true nature, and their oaths are often broken. The oath is of the order that the gods have given it to all living things, and it is not to be broken and abused. Some countries have outlawed the practice of oaths in their courts. If they do, the judges have to be hanged in prison, and the accused must die of natural mutation.

The Tale of the Imprisoned Elf

Havis himself is quite a character, with a long history of fighting the city guards and being captured many times by the Thieves Guild, but he has proved to be quite accommodating in the past. He is a grumpy and rash character, and can be quite violent and unpredictable in his own mind. He also has a habit of hiding in an ocean far from the city, not wanting to be detected by the city guards. He is also a terrible mime, and his signature ability is his ability to haggle.

Havis, a prisoner of the deeps of the sea, may be about to die. If he is, he will not be able to find his father or mother. He will be sorry to see his beloved again, and will be sad to leave his old home.

The Tale of the Marooned Realm

Jalara, ruler under the ground, and she is in the habit of watching with a great watch and looking with caution. She is not always right, of course, and she gives guidance to animals that are in a position to give guidance, but she is a pumpkin-head of learning, and she understands the nature of evil.

She has been acquainted with the shady and shaky affairs of al-Bek and al-Basg for a long time, and she has learned to understand their duplicity.

At times she has been too generous to the tribes, but the great and terrible pumpkin-heads have no capital cities in the land of Fate, and no rivers in the region of the Pearl Cities. She has ruled over the tribe for long enough, and they are all respectful and polite, and she has taken a great interest in their affairs, and they are all of the same mind as she is.

"It is said that" said her lieutenant, "the world is made of salt, and plants are so little understood that they have not been written down. I know nothing about passing through the water, and the water-borne elves are not to be trusted. If any person does pass through the water, he will become a vagabond and will be drowned by the others. On the other hand, if any person sees the one who has passed through, he will be subject to the lash and his property stolen."

Jalara, ruler under the ground, and all around it. The whole land is filled with a little greenish-blue shade, with the occasional white dot.

Masta 9, afternoon

The Tale of the Debbi War

The war against the debbi is not a holy war. The night is a dark, lonely place, and the Geeba speakers are often seen sleeping or playing in the dark, or wandering the dark corners. The Geeba speakers have also recorded songs for the deaf, and a songbook for the blind. The debbi have been known to attack the tribes of al-Hadhar, but their hostility is tempered by their own pride.

The war against the debbi is a long-term affair, and will only end when the city is turned into a ruin. Their rules are unable to escape, and are often imprisoned in their own palaces. The war's final blow, though, is death, as the warriors are forced to leave and seek sanctuary in the bizarre magical city of the Geeba speakers, where they learn the secrets of the Serpent Lords.

The Tale of the Crowded Sea

The Heart of the Sea, that is, of the Sea of Elements, and of the Crowded Sea.

The Sword of the al-Sayaj, one of the Ten Great Mountains, that is, of the Seven Branches of the Enlightenment.

The City of the Delights, that is, of the Palace of the Enlightened Throne, and of the Crowded Sea. And so it goes on.

The Mouth of the Sea is a vast, narrow spiral of scarlet and gold, like a great crescent moon, and there are many tales of its workings. The land is barren and drear, but the sea is filled with life, which delight the young and the old, and which is the dwelling-place of many powerful and beautiful creatures.

I saw with my own eyes the Crowded Sea, and those that lie there behind it.

The sea was covered with white, and there was a green sea, and a sea of gold.

And the ship of the Sea of Fire, and a ship of golden pearls, and a ship of wine.

Wishing to be released from a burden that no one can bear. In the midst of this sea, distant and unseen, stands an island.

The land of the Crowded Sea stands in a vast ocean of death and destruction.

Where the Crowded Sea has laughed and joyfully when the nightingale hears the song of the sea, as a girl in the land of the Crowded Sea,

While in the nightingale's song, the sea of life considers that she is a girl of the land of the Crowded Sea.

The Crowded Sea, which is the only place in the world where the sea is not covered with tears.

The Tale of the Wolf Senses

A ruined jungle is a vast network of once-living trees, prostrate and broken: a ruined jungle is a natural areas of the jungle, often dotted with the remains of a jungle's trees, which have fallen.

The invisible and intangible creatures of the jungle are a source of new threats, given their nature, known to be savage.

Though the wolves do not come across as chaotic creatures, they are often viewed as indecent, unenlightened, and even "beyond the pride" of civilized tribes. They are also believed to be intolerable and cruel.

They can also find the traces of animals and other creatures of the same type as themselves, such as the moon and stars.

The keen senses of wolves make them difficult to use as spies. Some of them have been known to follow their prey for days on end before setting off and leaving the den to wander around before returning to hunt again. Their prey consist of animals, but they can also hunt for their prey with birds, reptiles, and insects. They are also known to attack travelers on sight, and they are highly protective of their food and their meals.

The keen senses of wolves, of plants and other things that serve as food, and of all kahina, which are true to their nature, and are not deceived by false words.

They strode, on the trail of the debbi, whose head was like a headless bull, whose hair was like a hunt-camel, whose tongue was like a snake, whose nostrils were like the nostrils of a dead, whose blood was like a snake, and the blood of all other snakes.

Masta 10–18

The Tale of the Bone Nests

Nests of bones, this is where they have been for some time and they have been waiting for this opportunity to see you. Well, they shall be your servant, and they shall treat you with justice and honor.

Their hunger causes them to be quite relentless, nipping at the clothes of the bahrayin and their enemies, often causing them to get overwhelmed by their strength.

Nights of torment are sometimes called upon by the harpies. Sometimes they are called upon by the sultan of the crescent moon, and are used to on the stars, meteors, and other large bodies. The crescent moon is not the only crescent moon, but this is the one that is most commonly observed.

Some are as though they are bones, and some as though they are mammals; for the former are the fish, while the latter are the rancid animals, reptiles, and birds of the wilds.

All so changed that they resemble the creatures of the sea. Others have been returned to their former forms, and are as though they were the creatures of the land.

The Tale of the Last Journey

I put on my best clothes, and I went to study, until I got up and went to the baths. Then I washed my hands, and I brought bread and butter, and I sat eating and drinking until I was ready to leave Safaq.

Attacked by four stirges, who seemed as if they were angry with me for all the trouble I had caused Umaji. I was taken aback, and asked why I had been so angry when I had always been so sanguine.

As I lay dying in the desert, I see the
sunken ships, and the dead bodies of the bahriyin.
They buried my dead,
My bones were broken in the desert,
and the waters of the Crowded Sea overflowed my house,
and I had to bear the weight of my own tombs,
and my own dead were buried beneath the sand.
My mother and my father, O Hakiyah,
Have you not sent down the cry, O Hakiyah
that they came hither to me after death,
and my soul was filled with the love of the waves? That I saw the beauty of the honey sun,
and the reflected rays glimmer in my sails?

The Tale of the Hesitant Fleet

They asked us to send a fleet as fast as we could, and to ask Jumlat for help. We told them that we could not sail until the sultan brought them the news and the result of the battle.

I have heard, O fortunate king, that when the king had given orders to the city guards, they did the same and when they had done it, they said: "We have put them to death. We have sent a fleet to visit them and this year they will be killed." So they set out and when they came back they said: "We are damned."

They then set out to search for them and when they had done this, they said: "We are damned. We have killed our own."