Note: if the author's or the staff thinks it is better not to publish this story here, feel free to delete it. I am running this story with Laura, one of my players (and one of the more aggressive ones, at that) and flatmate. We are using Severin as a PC that she is running (modifying his profile slightly), so this might be slightly different than what the original text would have seen since the PC ois Severin, not an external force in the adventure.
Today we worked on the character and played the first part of the adventure. If it goes well, this will be the start of a saga with its related saga arc.
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Year Of Our Lord 889 or 890. I am not sure. Apparently autumn season.
My name is Severin of Tytalus. I am writing this from a cave where I have taken refuge. I am surrounded by entanglements, the servants of Cruciator, an unselie faerie that has been hounding me during the past few months. They cannot cross running water, so I am relatively safe right now, but I am wounded and I am unsure if I will be able to destroy them before I am overpowered. I am writing this to warn the Order about these dark faeries in this time of strife, and the treachery of some of our fellow magi.
During our attack mission against a stronghold of the Great Enemy in Arran my vexillatio stumbled into a faerie kingdom ruled by an unselie faerie called Cruciator. Me and my companions have been fighting a series of skirmishes with the fae forces during the last few months. I am the last survivor in our party. God blesses my companions and trusted grogs. I was captured by Cruciator and for the past few months he has tortured me and drained me of all my strength. Or so he thought. The relaxation of Cruciator’s wards has allowed me to escape taking advantage of a momentary slip in his attention and I have returned to the mundane realm.
I moved to continue with our mission, not knowing if the enemy would still be in Skye or not. Apparently it still was. Not only that, but it had been reinforced by unexpected help. It seems that a group of hermetic magi have deserted the right cause and joined the ranks of the Great Enemy. I tried to cause as much damage as possible, but being alone was forced to retire and start a guerrilla campaign against the traitor’s locale. I was unable to find any traces of my fellow hermetic magi: it seems that they never managed to attack this locale. They must have been ambushed. My campaign was quite successful in disrupting the enemy’s supply lines, but they hounded me down and I was forced to retire to a muster point.
Year Of Our Lord 889 or 890. Three days since last entry
The servants of Cruciator found me while retiring, and have been hounding me since. Keeping near inhabited places and their related Dominion auras has helped me keeping them at bay, but yesterday they managed to surround me and wounding me before I could drive them away. I am making slower progress today, but I trust I will be able to reach the muster point.
There seems to be some problems: the villages I am visiting look weird, and the people talk weird dialects.
Year Of Our Lord 1219. 29 of October
I have confirmation of what I felt. A priest informed me that we are in the year of our Lord 1219, at the end of October, concretely. That would mean that I have been trapped in Cruciator’s realm for 330 years, not 8 months as I thought. That means that all my friends are likely dead or in twilight, and that the political and conflict map will have changed sensibly. Now I wonder who it was that I attacked three days ago…. I have decided to continue to the supply point and then to Peak of Light, my home covenant.
I have bought supplies in a nearby village, where my silver has helped me overcome the negative effects of our blessed Gift and obtain the necessary supplies. My wound is not improving, but I was unable to get medical assistance in the last villages I visited. I plan to stay in the muster point until I receive help or I can overcome the pursuing entanglements. They seem to avoid the Dominion if they can, but not enough for it to prevent them attacking me at night.
Year Of Our Lord 1219. 30 of October
I am at the supply point. The supplies of our war effort against Davnalleus are gone, but I have been able to make a resting point where I can recover. My wound seems to have stabilized, but I am still weak. The entanglements have put siege to my position, but they can’t cross the waterfall that protects this cave’s entry. I will try to regain my strength. I have brought several tree trunks inside the cave to provide me with some much needed muscle via rough hewn servants and carved assassins, but my situation looks grim. I am also re-equipping myself with my other tools of war. My present weakness is proving to b a hindrance and I am unsure if I will be able to escape.