Campaign of the Month: March 2016

Ptolus, City by the Spire

Mos' Diary: The Care and Feeding of Slaves or How Much More Is This Going To Cost Me?!?

We passed into the fishfolk’s lands. I never gave much thought to the temperature of my blood before. I mean, I’ve been called cold-blooded, of course. In my line of work, it’s an occupational hazard. But these fishfolk? Actually cold-blooded. And now I’m feeling insulted in retrospect.

We posed as a cleric of the Black Hand and his band of merry slaves to pass into the fish-lands. It’s probably good that we did. There were a ton of the scaly walkers here and while I have great faith in Aendir and Thorzin to cause copious amounts of grievous bodily harm, I think we would have been overrun. Still, it made my skin crawl to give hard-earned coin to those creepy fish. And I had to pay extra to keep the bloody cat alive! EXTRA. MORE MONEY. TO KEEP THE BLEEDING CAT ALIVE. Somewhere there is a special heaven set aside for us long-suffering martyr types, I tell you. I keep this up and I’m going to start glowing with all my holiness.

And then we saw one of Khatru’s band. Well, even with my newfound holiness, I wasn’t exactly excited about bailing the lout out. But a man has got to look out for his fellow man, I always say. So I selflessly paid for his freedom. Overpaid for his freedom, even. He didn’t look too much the worse for wear, but even so. I’d never admit it, but leaving the other slaves in the hands of the fishfolk made me sick. Their eyes were… haunted. To be a slave is bad enough, but a slave to a race of monsters?

We found Khatru and even another woman from his team. I bought them too, parting with my poor mage coins. I will miss them. We managed to make it through, but not before we saw a great thing in the pit, being fed slaves for the amusement of the watchers. This place is truly horrific and I can’t imagine how I’d survive if we were captured and brought to this hell-hole. Khatru filled us in on what happened. They weren’t excited about going with us to the Deep Temple, but we can’t afford to pay our way back through the fishfolk and they demanded sacrifices if we came back. I mean, I’d give them the cat, but I already paid for it. I feel like I own the rotten predator now. And I hate giving away property without a good reason.

Now, if I could the skin back, maybe in the form of a lovely sleeping bag? Hmm….



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