(Session report for 7th January 2025)
From the recollections of Kyrrha T'sarran
17th Day of Abrior (February) 1355
Weather: Clear. Cold. High: 7°C, Low: 3°C.
Mission: Find a boy and a guard.
Location(s): Greendale, The Woods.
Present: Thia Lathalas, Hugh Greendale, Sora, Alto, Thaumat, Brielle and Kyrrha
Shadow Sigil Entry
Dictated by Kyrrha
17th Day of Abrior, 1355
Weather: Crisp and clear.
Mission: Discover the fate of the missing boy and soldier.
Current Location: Greendale outskirts, cave system.
The sigil's dark resonance stirs as I begin to speak. Words are captured and drawn into its depths, ensuring my tale is preserved—not for anyone else, but for myself.
It began last night. My secrets, my hatred for the Drow, laid bare before the group. I revealed my true identity, my reasons for despising them, and why I act as I do. There was a silence afterward, the kind that lingers in the air like smoke.
Sora was the first to speak, and not kindly.
Sora: "When we’re done with the Drow prisoner, Kyrrha will finish him off. That’s what she wants, isn’t it?"
I didn’t dignify her words with a response. The others looked between us, unsure of what to say.
Let them think what they will. My reasons are my own.
The two letters we found were produced and I saw Thia's face go pale as she handed over the second one, I read it and nodded my head. So be it. As we delved deeper into this discovery, my thoughts turned to the letter we found when we captured Arkan. The contents still haunt me, a stark reminder of the shadow I walk beneath.
The letter was from none other than Matron Mother Kytharel Xassan of Shul Varond. It detailed my supposed crimes in exacting, venomous words:
"Let this be known that the Spider Queen herself has deemed this target a threat to those who uphold the true ways of the Drow.
The target is the darthir and heretic Kyrrha T’sarran. She has the Kaashjir D’valir set on her by order of Lolth, and her priestess, the Matron Mother Varuna T’sarran, for the theft of a most precious artefact and her heathen ways.
A bounty of 1500 drakes is the reward for any sworn to uphold Lolth’s ways to purge the darthir from existence and the return of the dagger she stole.
Failure to do so will be either punishable by death by the hand of the traitor or by the hand of Lolth and her church."
The words “Kaashjir D’valir” burned into my mind—a mark of death placed on me by Lolth herself, a divine decree for my eradication. The bounty, set at 1500 drakes, was a price on my head meant to lure every Drow loyal to the Spider Queen into the hunt. My crime? The theft of an artifact, yes, but worse, my defiance of the faith that corrupted my kin.
The dagger they seek is Sshamath’enil, now my blade and my curse. It seems every step I take toward redemption only ties me further to the shadows of my past.
Even here, in this place of discovery and strange light, I feel the weight of their eyes. They will come for me, and when they do, they will find only vengeance waiting.
__________________________________________________________________________
A new face appeared among us—Brielle, a wood elf cleric. She’s quiet, too much so, and wary. Her demeanour tells me she’s still deciding what to make of us. I decide to let her observe. She’ll learn soon enough that we are not the kind of group that wastes time on ceremony.
The weapons we recovered from the bandits needed to be sold. Surprisingly, Sora offered to accompany me. I didn’t argue—she’s persuasive, and her magic has a way of swaying people. Together, we secured a better price than I expected.
The blacksmith, after paying for the weapons advise I might find thieves tools at the village store. There I replaced my thieves’ tools, haggling the price down to a reasonable amount. To my surprise, Sora paid for them.
Kyrrha: "Generous of you. I didn’t take you for a philanthropist."
Sora: (Dryly) "Consider it an investment in our survival. Try not to waste them."
She owes me, keep owing Sora.
We returned with a substantial haul of gold, silver, and copper. Back at the inn, I waived my right to the first share but took an equal portion of the remainder. Brielle didn’t seem impressed by the arrangement, but she’s new. She’ll learn that here, action earns rewards—not quiet judgment.
The next morning, we were approached with news: a soldier had gone missing while searching for a farmer’s son. The farmer was desperate, his wife on the verge of tears. Their pet drake, a small and peculiar creature, could track the boy’s scent in the woods.
Kyrrha: "A pet drake? Handy. Does it know how to track goblins too?"
Sora: "It understands Draconic. Lucky for us, I do too."
We followed the drake’s lead, its serpentine form weaving through the trees. The tracks we found confirmed our suspicions—goblins.
The trail ended at a cave, its entrance yawning like the maw of some ancient beast. As the others debated strategies, I grew tired of their hesitation.
Kyrrha: "While you discuss, I’ll handle this."
I donned the Black Gauntlet cloth, fixing it to my leather armour, and assumed the form of a Drow. Stepping into the cave, I surveyed the goblins within—ten or so, including two shamans.
Kyrrha (in Drow, projecting authority): "Do you know what you’ve done? Arkan of the Black Gauntlet is displeased. By taking these two hostages, you’ve endangered yourselves and your clan. Return them, and I will erase their memory of this. You’ll receive five pieces of gold, and this will end here."
For a moment, they hesitated. But one of the shamans stepped forward, his eyes narrowing.
The Goblin Shaman asked if I'd seen a Goblin like them in or around Greenwood, I told them I had not.
Goblin Shaman: "We’ve seen you before. You’re no emissary of Arkan. Seize her!"
So much for diplomacy. I drew Sshamath’enil, and the blade responded eagerly, its shadowed edge slicing through the shaman in a single stroke. Blood pooled at his feet as the others shouted in alarm.
I called to the group.
Kyrrha: "Now! Join me or stay behind—your choice!"
The others rushed in, spells and weapons ready. Hugh charged forward, taking the fight to the goblins with his sword. Thia cast firebolts, the cave flickering with their light, while Alto loosed arrows into the fray.
A wolf snarled behind me, attacking the goblins from that side. Thaumat, no doubt—her druidic forms are as unpredictable as they are effective.
The second shaman raised his staff, casting energy at us, none were targeted at me. Brielle cast numerous spiritual energy but her power fizzled uselessly against the Goblins dexterity. I pressed forward, Sshamath’enil biting deep into the chest of the second shaman. The light left his eyes, and I turned to find the remaining goblins had fell under the group’s assault.
With the fight over, we turned our attention to the cave itself. Thia and Sora were drawn to the back wall, where an odd stone protruded slightly. Sora pressed it, and the wall shifted, revealing a hidden door.
Beyond was a strange, square room. Its walls, ceiling, and floor were a brilliant white, starkly different from the rough stone of the cave. Two buttons were set into one wall, each labelled in ancient Elvish script.
Kyrrha: "Observatory and Ground. Interesting."
The others joined me in the room. I pressed the button marked Observatory. The room shuddered, descending with a mechanical hum.
When the door opened again, we found ourselves in a long chamber. The floor shimmered with an iridescent blue light, almost alive. Statues lined the room, their forms depicting the evolution of elvenkind—the dawn of time, the golden elves, and then the branching paths that led to high elves, wood elves, snow elves, and Drow.
At the far end was a smaller annex, its centre piece a lectern. Symbols adorned the statues and walls, their meaning just beyond my grasp.
Thia: "This... this is ancient. A discovery of a lifetime."
Sora: "Perhaps. But a discovery of what?"
Indeed. What have we stumbled upon? And what secrets does this place hold?
Reflections
As I sit in this strange room, I feel the pull of Sshamath’enil, its hunger momentarily sated but always lurking. The others are captivated by the history before us, but my thoughts are on the future.
What does this discovery mean for us? For me?
The sigil dims as I conclude, sealing these words in the shadowy void. For now, the answers will wait.
Letter to Arkan recovered during his capture:
Arkan,
Preparations are underway for the next
phase of our cause. Distract the people as best you can. We shall make contact
with you once our preparations are complete.
We already have coerced a lowly priest
to enact an assault of undead minions toward Tellan. Acolyte Delfore knows
their part of the plan.
It has also come to our attention that
a group of meddlesome individuals have made their presence known in Greendale.
We can only hope you deal with these vermin with your group, as you’ve done
while torching Kelora.
Our agent in Avenmoor was spotted by a
human, they will gather their forces to make their own preparations. They move
autonomously, though I’d not trust a gnoll.
See that you do not fail in your
mission, Arkan. The Black Gauntlet watches, and the Red Fanatic always knows.
D.V.
Letter concerning Kyrrha recovered during Arkan's capture:
(The following has been translated by Thia Lathalas, with her understanding of Undercommon.)
Kaashjir D’valir
Let
this be know that the Spider Queen herself has deemed this target a threat to
those whom uphold the true ways of the Drow.
The
target is the darthir and heretic Kyrrha T’sarran. She has the Kaashjir D’valir
set on her by order of Lolth, and her priestess, the Matron Mother Varuna
T’sarran for the theft of a most precious artefact and her heathen ways.
A
bounty of 1500 drakes are the reward for any sworn to uphold Lolth’s ways to
purge the darthir from existence and the return of the dagger she stole.
Failure
to do so will be either punishable by death by the hand of the traitor or by
the hand of Lolth and her church.
May
Lolth reign and the pretender Eruina fall!
Matron Mother Kytharel Xassan of Shul Varond
