A Simple Task

Scribe Notes

Summary

Adventure: A Simple Task
GM: Terry
Season: Autumn 826 WK
Night: Tue - online
Level: Mediumish???

Party

• Tulip - Hordes of Deadly animals.
• Kurt - Scribe
• Lady Arcadia - Party Leader
• Minerva - Military Scientist
• Boom Boom - Fire, Death, Destruction

Time on adventure

tbc 826 WK to tbc 826 WK

Employer

Sapphire Gold of the No. 1 Hobbits' Detective Agency

Mission

Locate and deal with the source of undead found in Brastor

Pay

5,000sp or equivalent value in invested or amulets.

Scribe Notes by Kurt

Session 1

We meet Sapphire and an apprentice Vigor in the guild meeting room. They brief us on the problem of small packs of lesser undead coming from the direction of the Sea of Grass.
They want us to find out where these are coming from, offering theories such as illegal mining.
A range of services is discussed, and we accept the offer of someone who can handle Greater Enchantments and a Rune Portal to Brastor Landing.
We divert to my farm to enjoy the standard sacrificial rites for the evening.
People to talk to in Brastor.

• Emmitsburg - Magneric Fairfoot.
• South Lending - Rathar Puddlefoot.

2nd Fruit

We head back to the guild in the morning, then to Seagate, with some exciting landings in high winds.
Once in Seagate, we meet our portalist in a high end tailors shop, Instichue, and head through to Brastor Landing. There we stop in the Tavern (The Slippery Duck) and get greaters from retired guild member Uzi.
Tulip also has a fun idea of trying to get her bear into plate armour, so we set up some materials to source before we get too far out.
Arcadia and Minerva perform rituals to see if the skies will pass along any information at this point, while Boom Boom engages in diplomacy with the locals.

Session 2

While we wait, several Astrology Readings
are performed, though they are not particularly conclusive.
Perhaps some hints that this is a trap, or that interested parties are keeping an eye on this. Both of which suggest that there is more going on than a few stray undead.

3rd Fruit

We take breakfast in the tavern, and some take care of feeding their animals.
Boom Boom and I (Kurt) start work on some preparations, while the other three fly off to Emmitsburg to start talking to our contacts. A few communication devices are left to keep in touch in case of an emergency.
The flight there is uneventful, and after landing, they find their way to the HDA to speak to Magneric.

• For the last four months, there has been a steady trickle of undead. (Skeletons, Zombies, Ghouls)
• There have been no signs of control, and they have been poorly armed and armoured, such as a town militia buried on a battlefield. Information on the smithing style is not available yet.
• This has been a lot more common than historically, and more focused on undead rather than other monsters.
• The described locations form a semi-circle around Lewiston. This town is still ruined and often covered in an unnatural fog.
• The most recent sighting was a week ago in Hugler's Ferry.
• They recommend the Burning Heretic as a good tavern in Emmitsburg, and the Elven brainmelter as a good drink. (Said recommendation made to multiple elves.)
• They will get a few of the patrolling guards to meet Arcadia and company this evening.

They proceed to the Burning Heretic and engage in 'light' drinking, served by the proprietor, 'Bonebreaker', a dwarf, and they acquire some nice bottles of spirits to take home, due to their brains melting.

 Arcadia: "Hey boys, hope you're okay. We have talked to hobbits here and got info, now we will be going to have our elven brains melted"

They organise to stay the night after engaging in bargaining over the room and prices.

That evening, Magneric and Runford, a Brastor Ranger, turn up to talk.
Runford describes two encounters with the undead that he personally participated in.

• A pack of seven zombies on the road between Tallwood and Tombstone, a month ago, that were easily dispatched, unlike the Dark Circle undead, which were extremely tough. Some had weapons, some didn't.
  
• The Rangers tracked this group south for around ten miles before they lost the trail.
  
• Notable points include their fairly intact skin and a bird rampant symbol on their armour.
  
• The second group of undead they fought was a group of skeletons found near Oak Heart in the evening, a couple of weeks ago. These were a bit harder to fight, which is in line with skeletons sometimes retaining combat skills, but not excessively so.
  
• The skeletons had no visible symbols, and the bones already showed signs of damage.
  
• Runford did not witness them but was aware of some undead animals, such as undead dogs. These seemed to cause undead fear.
  

The night passes uneventfully for both groups.

The party reunites in Brastor landing that afternoon. Tulip ventures out with the Barenpanzer, and the town reacts as expected.
We pay our public disturbance fine, and a halfling named Siegesmund asks us not to take out our war animals in town again, and tells our escort halfling off a bit.
We then finish off our extra preparations over the next day, being ready to get going on the 5th of Fruit.

• Barenpanzer armour and silvered claws/bite made.
• More restoratives made (12).
• Some anti-disease herbal remedies, and some scarves soaked in herbal remedies to help combat the diseased fog.

6th Fruit

We land at the intersection of the main road between Brastor and Hugler's Ferry, and the ruined road to Lewiston.
Heading a bit towards Lewiston, we reach the edge of the fog bank, circling around to the south over the next hour we find tracks of three skeletons and four humanoid boot sets, potentially zombies, but impossible to tell.
These head to the south.
DA's on the Fog.

• Nature of Magic: illness.
• Nature of illness: Tepps Kiss.
• Power associated with: No answer.

Heading into the fog from the south, there is about a 100' of boundary fog which gets thicker as you get further in, then it stays relatively steady.

The party is 'Kidnapped

After another few hundred yards, the animals report a person ahead.
They approach, calling a beggars cry for coppers. They are wearing robes, showing blonde hair, and wearing a clearly fake moustache.
After Kurt gives them a pouch, they reveal themselves as Seir. And mention that we 'were' in Brastor.
After he clears the mist, we are now standing in a stone room, with a demonic dwarf with only one horn (Horn) to the side.
Seir engages in blackmail, and we are advised that we are representing Seir in 'The Games', and given the first instruction to "Perform the most impressive entrance".
We ask for more information, Horn tells them "All the information's on the task" but Seir ignores Horn and we are told that we are at the Colosseum and can watch other teams perform their entries.
Before each event, we can ask for three things (depending on how well we have done), and we will be granted one of them.
We have a day to get ready for this.

Arena interlude

Arena description

The iron doors to the room opened with a long, tortured groan, revealing a corridor of black stone shot through with slow-moving veins of red light. Heat bled from the walls in waves, and the air carried the faint scent of ash and something far less pleasant. Seir stood at the threshold, immaculate and untouched by the oppressive atmosphere. His golden hair shimmered faintly in the dim light, his pale eyes glinting with quiet amusement. He smiled. “Follow me.” He moved at once, unhurried, barefoot upon the hot stone as though strolling through a garden rather than the depths of hell. With each step, the torches along the walls ignited in sequence, their flames bowing low as he passed. The corridor ended abruptly. Seir placed a hand upon the smooth wall, and it peeled open like silk. Sound crashed outward. A vast, thunderous roar — layered with laughter, shrieks, chanting, and something darker beneath it all. It filled the lungs, rattled the ribs, pressed into the skull. Beyond lay the colosseum. A colossal amphitheatre carved into the bones of hell itself. Endless tiers of seating spiralled upward into shadow, lit by rivers of molten fire that coursed through the structure like glowing arteries. Every seat was filled. Demonic nobles reclined on bone-carved thrones, horned beasts hunched forward in anticipation, winged horrors perched along the edges. Some wore crowns of flame, others, cloaks stitched from living shadows. All eyes turned, briefly, toward the entrance. High above the arena floor, jutting out over the abyss like a place of honour, stood the VIP boxes. Each was a spectacle unto itself. In one, a towering horned prince lounged upon a throne of fused skulls, attended by servants with flayed wings. In another, a serpentine monarch coiled languidly through a nest of velvet cushions, its many eyes fixed unblinking on the arena below. Elsewhere, a grotesque noble of shifting flesh entertained itself by reshaping the attendants who fanned it. Siers' box was a study in decadent excess — a crescent balcony lined with polished obsidian that reflected the arena in distorted perfection. Plush seating of deep crimson velvet curved invitingly, trimmed with gold that seemed to ripple like liquid. Tables of black glass held crystal decanters filled with glowing liquids that shifted colour with every glance. The air here was cooler, scented faintly with something sweet — deliberately chosen, deliberately controlled. At the rear, towering pillars of carved bone framed the space, each etched with scenes of conquest and ruin. Silent attendants — elegant, horned, perfectly still — waited at attention, ready to serve without being asked. Seir stepped to the front of the balcony, resting one hand lightly upon the railing as he gazed out over the roaring masses, drinking in their adoration. Then, without turning, he gestured lazily toward the seats. “Take a seat.” Below, the arena stirred. Massive gates shuddered. Chains rattled. Something enormous shifted beneath the sand, its presence felt even before it was seen. The roar of the crowd swelled to a fever pitch. Seir’s smile widened, bright and sharp. “The first event is about to begin,” he said lightly, almost fondly. “And I assure you… It will be most exciting.” A deep, resonant horn sounded…..

First entrance

The colosseum doors remain closed. Around the colosseum, the faint sound of marching boots can be heard—perfectly measured, perfectly disciplined. Step. Step. Step. Step. At the very centre of the arena, five slaves kneel beside enormous war drums — great, iron-bound cylinders of stretched hide and bone. Their hands tremble as they raise their mallets. Then— BOOM. A single strike. BOOM. BOOM. The rhythm builds — slow, martial, relentless. Each beat echoes through the stone, through the crowd, through the bones of every creature watching. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. The marching aligns with it. Step. Step. Step. Step. The iron-bound doors on the eastern side of the colosseum floor open slowly, not bursting dramatically, but swinging inward with deliberate control. Five fiendish devils enter in formation. Their armour is blackened iron etched with infernal runes that glow faintly like embers in a dying fire. Each carries a wicked weapon—glaive, spear, hooked blade—held in identical positions across their bodies. Their horns cast long shadows in the hellfire light behind them. They march forward in absolute synchronisation, each footfall striking the stone at the same instant. CLANG. CLANG. CLANG. The drums answer them. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. The sound builds into something overwhelming — a fusion of discipline and dread, of war and ritual. At the centre of the arena, the devils halt instantly, weapons snapping downward in unison. The drumming does not stop. The lead devil slowly raises one clawed hand. At that signal, the four others spin outward in perfect precision, forming a star around him, weapons levelled in different directions as if the arena — and everything within it — has already been claimed. The rhythm intensifies. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. Faster now. Louder. The slaves strike harder, desperation creeping into their movements as the devils’ presence bears down on them. Then the surprise. The lead devil speaks a single command in Infernal. Immediately, the other four devils ignite. Hellfire erupts along their weapons and wings — controlled, deliberate, magnificent. Flames spiral upward in perfect symmetry, forming a vast infernal sigil above them, burning bright enough to sear itself into the vision of every watcher. The drums reach a fever pitch. BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM— The sigil collapses in a cascade of embers. Silence. The slaves freeze, mallets hovering in the air. The devils remain utterly still. The leader lowers his hand slowly, scanning the arena like a conquering general surveying territory already won. Then— In perfect, terrifying synchronisation— All five devils step forward. One step. CLANG. Their weapons rise. And in a single, flawless motion, each of the blade striking the neck of a drummer, severing their head from their body – both falling to the colosseum floor. No hesitation. No tremor. Only absolute control. The crowd erupts. The devils do not react. The leader’s voice cuts cleanly through the roar, calm and cold as iron: “You may begin the worship.” Behind him, the other devils snap their wings open in unison with a thunderous CRACK. The drums do not resume. The silence now belongs to them. The entrance is complete. Seir reclines in his seat, turning lazily toward the party with a quiet yawn. A faint, dismissive smile touches his lips as he remarks, “Effective, certainly… but no elegance. All force, no artistry.”

Second entrance

The fog in the arena lifts. Prisoners are scattered across the sand — chained, bound, barely able to stand. Some kneel where they have been forced, others lie where they fell, too exhausted to rise. Armour has been stripped from them, weapons long gone. Faces are drawn tight with fear, eyes darting toward the towering walls and the watching crowd above. For a moment, nothing moves. Then— A sound. Soft at first. A scratching. A skittering. It comes from the iron-bound doors set low along the colosseum walls. Then it grows. A tide. A whisper becoming a storm. The doors on one side shudder… and burst inward. Rats. Hundreds. Then thousands. They pour through the openings like a living flood — black, grey, red-eyed — spilling across the stone and onto the sand in writhing waves. The prisoners see them. And scream. The rats surge forward, overwhelming everything in their path. They climb over bodies, swarm up legs, across torsos, into clothing, into mouths opened in terror. Chains rattle, limbs thrash, but there is no escape. The arena fills with chaos. Scratching. Gnawing. Tearing. The sound of it is relentless — a storm of feeding, panic, and desperate movement. The crowd leans forward. The rats do not stop. They strip flesh with terrifying efficiency. Screams cut short. Struggling becomes twitching, then stillness. Where there were living forms, there are now writhing masses, collapsing inward as muscle and sinew are devoured. Bone begins to show. White flashes beneath the shifting black tide. Hands become skeletal claws. Faces sink, collapse, becoming grinning skulls as the swarm consumes everything that once lived. Then— Silence. The rats freeze. Every one of them. Thousands of red eyes turn as one. Toward the opposite side of the arena. Another set of doors opens. Slowly. Deliberately. The rats begin to move again—but not to feed. They part. Not chaotically—but with eerie precision, flowing aside like a living curtain being drawn back. They leave behind only bone. Dozens of skeletons lie where the prisoners once struggled — clean, gleaming, utterly stripped. A tall figure enters. Wrapped in layered black that seems to swallow the light, embroidered with sigils that shift subtly as if alive. The face is pale, almost bloodless, the eyes still and measuring. One hand lifts. The bones respond. Fingers twitch. Skulls tilt. Spines arch with dry, cracking sounds. Then, all at once— They rise. Not clumsily. Not as mindless things. But with purpose. They assemble themselves with unnatural precision, snapping into formation as though drilled for years. Shields lifted. Rusted weapons reclaimed. Heads turn in perfect unison. An honour guard. Perfect ranks. Perfect spacing. Perfect obedience. The dark-robed figure walks forward between them, unhurried.

Third entrance

Behind, the same doors open wider. From the shadows beyond, four figures step into the arena. Pale. Immaculate. Beautiful in a way that feels wrong. Their movements are fluid, deliberate — each step placed with predatory grace. Dark silks and velvet cling to them, untouched by dust or decay. Their eyes catch the hellfire light with a faint, hungry gleam, and their smiles reveal just enough to unsettle. They emerge fully from the doorway, the rats flowing around their feet without touching them. The honour guard shifts as one, turning outward to form a corridor of bone and steel. Weapons lower in synchronised motion — not in threat, but in recognition. In deference. The robed figure reaches the centre and stops. The hand lowers. The rats begin to move again. Not feeding. Not frantic. They circle. A slow, endless orbit around the formation — a living ring of fur, teeth, and restless hunger. The pale figures take their place beside the robed one, perfectly aligned. Around them, nothing remains of what once lived. Only bone. Only order. Only control. The crowd murmurs. Low. Appreciative. Uneasy. The robed figure inclines its head ever so slightly. The skeletons hold formation. The rats continue their circling. And the entrance, precise and dreadful, is complete. Seir watches with a faint curl of distaste, idly plucking a grape from a silver bowl and rolling it between his fingers before popping it into his mouth. He chews thoughtfully, then glances toward the party and says, “Crass… spectacle without refinement. Power, perhaps—but no taste.” The doors to the colosseum remain closed for several long, expectant seconds. The silence stretches until it almost becomes uncomfortable. Then—softly at first—a single voice rises. Clear. Pure. Unmistakably controlled. It threads through the air before the doors even move. A second voice joins it. Then a third. By the time the rhythm of heels begins to echo, the harmony is already building—layered, precise, impossibly tight. Click… click… click… click. The doors burst open in a wash of crimson light and curling infernal mist. Four succubi stride through the doorway in flawless synchronisation, wings unfurling behind them like dark velvet banners. Their steps are slow, deliberate, and impossibly graceful—each landing perfectly in time with the music they themselves are weaving. Their voices do not falter as they move. One carries the melody—smooth and commanding. Another threads a higher line above it, sharp and dazzling. The remaining two lock into a rhythmic harmony beneath, their tones pulsing in time like a heartbeat driving the performance forward. With every step, the air grows warmer. The scent of brimstone and roses drifts into the hall. At the third step, they leap simultaneously, wings snapping wide with a thunderous WHUMP. They do not land. They hover—suspended in perfect formation—while their voices swell, the harmony tightening into something almost hypnotic. Their wings beat once, sharply, punctuating the rhythm like a choreographed strike. Then comes the shift. The lead succubus claps once. The music changes instantly. The harmony fractures—then reforms into something faster, sharper, more intricate. The others spin around her in a tight circle, their movements snapping into rapid, precise choreography. Each turn, each gesture, each flare of wing hits the beat exactly. One drops into a kneeling pose, wings arched high like a fallen angel, her voice sliding into a low, sultry line, another vaults upward, perching atop a pillar with predatory elegance, delivering a piercing high note that cuts clean through the arena. A third reclines across the long infernal table as if the room belongs to her, her voice weaving a playful countermelody beneath the others. The final performer circles the leader, their voices locking together in perfect unison for a single, ringing phrase. The leader descends last, landing lightly in the centre of the room. The music builds—layer upon layer—voices stacking, rising, tightening— Then stops. Perfectly. Silence crashes down like a blade. She takes a slow step forward, sweeping one wing dramatically around herself like a cloak, her final note lingering in the air long after her lips have stilled. With a playful bow, she declares: “We apologise for the delay… Victors should always make an entrance worth remembering.” Behind her, the other succubi hold their poses perfectly still, wings spread wide like living statues— as if the performance has ended…and the spell has already taken hold. Seir’s eyes gleam with approval as he raises a glass of dark wine and says to the party, “Now that… is elegance—precision, control, and just enough indulgence to make it unforgettable.”

Session 3

9th Fruit

Horn gives us a small briefing, letting us know about when we are on and where to get supplies.
He also advises us that the slaves are damned souls, so don't die when slain. And that the 'Good Lord Seir' will kindly keep the undead hordes at bay while we entertain him and the demons.
We spend some time thinking about what is the most appropriate entrance for us to do coming up with a plan.

 Boon Requests
 * Potion to raise the lowest primary stat cap/current for everyone.
 * Enhancing the existing greaters for everyone
 * An out-of-college special spell or ritual of the person's choice that starts with lots of ranks, and is permanently learnt.

 Entrance Performance
 Big Pine, Fire and light exploding out of it. (Enchanted plants to move the light sources, via vines).
 Some other small fluffy plans on the ground. Sticking up out of a fog.
 Flying carpet, trailing fire/sparks (Alchemical) Circle around the tree.
 Entering from the ground carpet lifts up through the fog and then spirals around the tree, trailing sparks. As it reaches the top, everyone but Minerva fire-arcs off the carpet, landing back on the lower branches. Minerva will land the carpet on a platform on the top of the tree.
 The tree will be 
 Each of the four (Boom Boom, Tulip, Kurt, Arcadia) will take turns leaping off the tree; a light spell will illuminate them in the fog, and they will each perform individually. The light spell will then be countered.
 Minerva will then do a solo at the top of the tree.
 The rest of the party will gather by the gate at this point in the dark/fog.
 Culminating in a solar flare landing centred on the tree, Minerva will use its arrival as an exit.

 Solo's
 Tulip: Bear being thrown from a card, emerging and Tulip leaping on its back, bear roars defiance, light goes out at that point.
 Boom Boom, Juggling unlit torches, high toss of all the torches, breathe fire to light them, then eat the torches, the lights go out.
 Arcadia. Leap down, mounted on Luna, meteor showers precast land all around the spot Arcadia/Luna land on, close but not touching.
 Kurt. Tumble down, slam ground repeatedly, earth tremor in every direction (but the trees and other party members).
 Minerva. Doing a speech between all the solo performances, Solar flare arrives, then flying down on a giant Aquila

The performance goes without a hitch, Arcadia stunning everyone with the dramatic shattering of the branch, the Earth mages intimidating the audience with Bears and Earthquakes, and Boom Boom leaving them in Awe of his Flames.
Minerva finishes the speech, threading the whole piece together, and departs, leaving a Solar Flare to strike the tree, leaving it a charred husk in the party's wake.
Horn asks us for a party name, and in a bolt of insperation Boom Boom and Arcadia both agree on Earth, Light, and Fire. After the scores are tallied, we are advised that our boons we are rewarded are a potion for our lowest stat, then a boost to our greater.

Astrology Readings

Minerva early reading (3rd Fruit)

The room is quiet except for the faint hiss of oil burning in the lamp.
Minerva sits perfectly still at the table, the small brass lamp placed directly before her, its flame steady and bright. The shutters are closed, the rest of the room dim, leaving the flame as the only true light. Shadows gather in the corners like silent witnesses.
She leans forward slightly, eyes fixed on the flame.
Minutes pass.
Then more.
At first the flame flickers normally, but as the ritual deepens it begins to burn unnaturally steady, the light growing sharper, almost crystalline. The reflections in Minerva’s eyes begin to shift as though she is no longer looking at a lamp at all, but into something far deeper.
Half an hour passes.
The air grows strangely heavy, and the flame stretches upward for a moment as though reaching toward something unseen.
Minerva’s breathing slows.
Finally she speaks, her voice quiet but certain.
“Strange…”
She does not look away from the flame.
“This light… it is not alone tonight.”
Her fingers slowly trace invisible lines across the table, following patterns only she can see.
“There is a star watching us. Not one of the familiar constellations… something older.”
The flame suddenly flickers sideways, casting long warped shadows across the walls.
Minerva blinks once, slowly.
“It watches with interest.”
She finally leans back from the lamp, rubbing her eyes as though waking from a long dream.
“The signs say that soon our deeds will be… observed.”
Her gaze drifts briefly toward the party.
“Not judged by battle or strength alone.”
She pauses.
“But by how well we perform.”
The lamp flickers again.
For a moment—just a moment—it seems as though the flame bends toward the group, like a curious eye examining them.
Then it settles back into an ordinary flame.
Minerva exhales slowly.
“The stars are… very interested in what comes next.”

Arcadia early reading (3rd Fruit)

The tavern has grown quieter as the night deepens.
Below, the common room still murmurs with the low sounds of conversation, the clatter of mugs, and the occasional burst of laughter. But up on the narrow wooden balcony above the street, the noise fades into a distant hum.
Arcadia sits alone at the railing.
She has chosen a spot where the lanterns from the street do not reach, leaving the sky wide and dark above her. Her staff rests beside her chair, and a half-finished drink sits forgotten on the small table.
For the next hour she does nothing but watch the stars.
At first her gaze moves slowly across the familiar constellations—the Crown, the Lantern Bearer, the Hunter. Patterns she has studied countless times before. Her eyes track them carefully, measuring angles, distances, the slow turn of the heavens as the night passes.
Time stretches.
A breeze drifts through the street below, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and roasting meat from the tavern kitchens. Someone inside starts a song. Arcadia does not notice.
Her focus narrows.
She lifts a hand and begins tracing faint lines in the air, connecting stars that only she can see the meaning of. Invisible geometry forming between distant points of light.
Then she pauses.
Something about the Hunter catches her attention.
The constellation burns bright tonight, its familiar shape easy to see even above the dim glow of the town.
Arcadia tilts her head slightly.
The shape feels wrong.
She studies it longer, narrowing her eyes. Slowly she turns her head to the side, adjusting her perspective.
The pattern becomes clear.
The Hunter is inverted.
The spear that should point proudly across the sky now angles downward, the stance twisted in a way that makes the whole figure look unbalanced—almost as though the heavens themselves have turned the constellation upside down.
Arcadia lifts a finger and traces the shape again, confirming the alignment.
The hunters stand where the prey should be.
She exhales slowly.
Her gaze drifts outward, scanning the surrounding sky.
There are other stars there tonight—dim ones, scattered around the Hunter’s position. Not part of any known constellation, but present nonetheless.
They cluster loosely around the inverted figure.
Watching.
Arcadia sits very still as the thought settles in her mind.
The hunters are not alone in the sky tonight.
She lowers her hand and leans back in her chair, committing the strange pattern to memory as the stars continue their silent march across the night.
Whatever the heavens are arranging…
…it is almost as though the hunt itself is part of something larger.

Loot

Expenses

• 12,000sp each for greaters.

Buffs & Mil Sci

Long term Buffs and Abilities

Long Term (assumed always on)

Magic (caster)	Rk	Effects	Duration	Tulip	Bear	Python	War Dog	Raven	Midsummer Vixen	Kurt	Arcadia	Luna (Dire Wolf)	Minerva	Aquila (Eagle)	Boom Boom
Cat Vision (Ku)	11	See 160' in the dark.	12 Hours.	N	N	N	N	N	N	Y	N	N	N	N	N
Coruscade (Mi)	18	+38 defense	9.5 hrs	Day	Day	Day	Day	Day	Day	Day	Day	Day	Day	Day	Day
Armour of Earth (Ku)	11	+24% defence, +1 damage reduction.	6 hrs	Night	Night	Night	Night	Night	Night	Night	Night	Night	Night	Night	Night
Fire proofing (BB)	13	Immune to non-magical fires up to large bonfire strength.	14 hrs	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y
Fire Armour (BB)	13	56 magical fire ablative.	14 hrs	Y	Y	N	Y	N	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	?	Y
Overland Way (Ku)	11	Up to 12 Entities get +7 mph to overland speed in good terrain. Total speed is then affected by terrain. -3 Exercise Ft/hour.	hrs	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y	Y
Witchsight (Mi)	12	See invisible, see in dark 150ft	6.5 hrs	Tal	Y	N	Y	Y	Y	Y	Tal	?	Y	?	Y
Strength of Stone (Arc)	13	+13 to EN.	11 hrs	-	-	-	-	-	-	Y	Y	Y	?	?	Y
Strength of Stone (Tu)	11	+11 to EN. ST for bear	12 hrs	Y	Y	-	Y	-	Y	-	-	?	?	?	-
Corriscade/Shadow Form (Arc)	13	28 Defence, half in close	? hrs	Y	Y	N	Y	N	N	?	N	N	?	?	?
Name	##	Magic	hrs	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?

Short Term

Short Term/Situational

Magic (caster)	Rk	Effects	Duration	Tulip	Bear	Python	War Dog	Raven	Midsummer Vixen	Kurt	Arcadia	Luna (Dire Wolf)	Minerva	Aquila (Eagle)	Boom Boom
Trollskin (Ku)	10	Heal 1 EN a pulse, and do not die from (non Acid/Fire) damage.	80 sec.	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?
Diamond Weapon (Ku) (Tu)	11 (10)	+11% S.C. Attackers fumble 5% more often.	16 Min.	?	?	?	?	?	?	Sit (Warhammer)	?	?	?	?	?
Create Light Sword (Mi)	8	SC+9 DM+3 vs Dark	13 mins	?	?	?	?	?	?	-	?	?	?	?	?
Weapon of Flames	15	+16SC +8Dmg	20 mins	Y	?	?	?	?	?	Sit (Warhammer)	?	?	?	?	H1/2 Glaive
Resistance to Light (Mi)	15	+32 resistance to light spells. See in Rk20 light	2.6 hrs	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?
Creating Light/Dark Sword	13	+14%, +4 DM vs everything, +6 vs the right aspect entity.	18 Mins	?	?	?	?	?	?	-	Y	?	?	?	?
Name	##	Magic	hrs	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?
Name	##	Magic	hrs	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?
Name	##	Magic	hrs	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?
Name	##	Magic	hrs	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?
Name	##	Magic	hrs	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?
Name	##	Magic	hrs	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?	?

Talents, Skills, other buffs

Magic / Skill / Etc	Rk	Effects	Duration	Tulip	Kurt	Arcadia	Luna (Dire Wolf)	Minerva	Aquila (Eagle)	Boom Boom
Ranger - Detect Hidden and Traps.	##	Chance to detect ambush.	hrs	126%(142% w.spell) +10% woods -5roll	116% (Rk 3 Plains)	?	?	?	?	?
Ranger - Tracking.	##	Magic	hrs	76%(100% w.spell) +10% woods -5roll	99% (Rk 3 Plains)	?	?	?	?	?
Herbalist - Find herbs.	##	Modified by herb being searched for.	hrs	101%(127% w.spell) +10% woods -5roll	213% (Rk 5)	?	?	?	?	?
Thief - Detect Traps.	##	Magic	hrs	?	65% (Rk 2)	?	?	?	?	?
Thief - Find hidden.	##	Magic	hrs	?	65% (Rk 2)	?	?	?	?	?
Spy - Enhanced Memory	##	Magic	hrs	74% (rnk 2)	?	?	?	139% (Rank 6)	?	?
Detect Fumes	##	Magic	hrs	?	?	?	?	74 (rank 10)	?	?
Name	##	Magic	hrs	?	?	?	?	?	?	?
Name	##	Magic	hrs	?	?	?	?	?	?	?

Animal (and other) Companions

Animal	Base key stats	Always on	Effects
Bear (Tu)	22PC 39PS 15MD 14AG 6TMR 9WP -MA 34EN 38FT	animal growth, armour earth, strength stones, blending, in combat: enchanted fang	bind animal, in-card, natural weapons are magical weapons of cold +5dmg, enchanted fang +3dmg,
Massive Python (Tu)	18PC 50PS -MD 12AG 9TMR 16WP -MA 30EN 35FT	slithering 450, climbing 200	magical staff
War dog Sabrina (Tu)	24PC 11PS 19MD 20AG 8TMR 21WP 18EN 33FT	armour earth, strength stones, blending	vanilla bound animal, in card
Raven (Tu)	18PC 3PS 23MD 22AG 12TMR 22WP 10EN 24FT	blending	vanilla bound animal, in card
Midsummer Vixen (Tu)	12PC 5PS 19MD 24AG 6TMR 7EN 12FT 8MA	special ritually bound, blending	petit mort self, firelight and pyrotechnics from her tail

Other buffs

• Kurt: Transformation to a Werebear, and the ability to grow vines from himself.
• Boom Boom: 4 * Thorny vines that can be targeted by Enchant Plants.
• Tulip: 4 * Thorny vines that can be targeted by Enchant Plants.
• Tulip's Bear: Trial Heavy Plate armour (with minor environmental comfort controls). Silvered Claws and Teeth for undead fighting. (Rank 0)
• Lady Arcadia: Can into a duplicate of La Luna, can cast druidcraft

Daily Casting

• Tulip party Strength Stones, 4 * converse animals, bear, dog, raven, fox, 1 * Tracking 1 * Detect Traps & Snares
• Kurt - 1 * Herbal Lore, 1 * Detect Traps & Snares, 1 * Overland Way, 1 * Cat Vision.
• Arcadia
• Minerva Witchsight x3or4 Coruscade x1or2 Resistance to Light (when needed)

(Minerva can buff the entire party in one cast - so cheap on fatigue).

• Boom Boom - Fire Proofing, Fire Armour (How much Ft does Boom Boom use for this?)

Ft Recovery

• Herbal Teas - +4 Ft per meal.
• Fireball Whiskies - Restoratives from Boom Boom - 8/16. (36)

Unengaged Initatives

• Minerva: D+39
• Kurt: D+23 (26)

Watch Order

1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8	9	10	11	12
1			2			3			4
5				6				7

Marching Order

Skirmish Formations (Front)
Default 1 2 3 4 5 6	Tracking/Scouting 1 2 3 4 5 6	Single File/Danger 1 2 3 4 5 6

Calendar

Autumn
	Moonday		Duesday		W'ansday		Th'rsday		Frysday		Reapsday		Sunday
	Lugnasad
Fruit (4)
			1	Guild Meeting Astrology: Warrior	2	Portal to Brastor Landing.	3	Arcadia, Tulip, Minerva to Emmitsburg.	4		5	Preparations completed.	6
	7		8	Party 'kidnapped' by Seir.	9	Party arena entrance.	10		11		12		13
	14		15		16		17		18	Astrology: Warrior ends	19	Astrology: King starts	20
	21		22		23		24		25		26		27
	28		29		30
Harvest (5)
							1		2		3		4
	5		6		7		8		9		10		11
	12		13		14	Astrology: King ends	15	Equinox Astrology: Mother starts	16		17	Seagate Autumn Fair	18	Seagate Autumn Fair
	19	Harvest Moon	20		21		22		23		24		25
	26		27		28		29	Michaelmas	30
Vintage(6)
											1		2
	3		4		5		6		7		8		9
	10	Astrology: Mother ends	11	Astrology: Magician starts	12		13		14		15		16
	17	Blood Moon	18		19		20		21		22		23
	24		25		26		27		28		29		30	Beerfest