
collapse, paranoia, struggle, exhaustion
intense clouds
No+
[Khand, Gelda, Phoenix] Hartwell
Soldier, Polyglot, Technological
challenge the status quo
Sparks ✁
epitaph, defend, cairn, drift
strange plague
oil poisoned
lectern, mechanism, archway, spore
Loot
14 coins and a block of aged-cheese
Mullein (leaves): courage, protection, communication
basket of mushrooms, Old leather strap from a saddle
leather pouch of dried herbs for medicinal use
scrolls of detailed maps
Scriber's Box: non-magical books placed inside are duplicated in a day
a cloudy, beetroot liquid that has some weird shit floating in it that makes the target speak in an obscure, indiscernible language
Situation
Lady Corvessa has locked herself away in her manor since receiving a package. Servants chatter about the dagger at her bedside, that glows faintly in moonlight. Since then, she is never seen without it, even in the privy! The dagger came accompanied by a cryptic note written in her own hand. It reads:
"The blade you carry is more than steel. It is ward and watch from the shadow that steals your face. Trust it, and it will protect you. Doubt it, and it will claim you. The veil thins. Beware the mirror’s truth."
She quietly seeks discreet, skilled bodyguards to protect her... or perhaps to become victims of the blade.
"The blade you carry is more than steel. It is ward and watch from the shadow that steals your face. Trust it, and it will protect you. Doubt it, and it will claim you. The veil thins. Beware the mirror’s truth."
She quietly seeks discreet, skilled bodyguards to protect her... or perhaps to become victims of the blade.