Chaos Unleashed

Argent Knights, Mortis Gaeth Supply Base
Available Equipment


  • 12 Command Center Command Processor Stations

    • 3 Operational
    • 1 Support Personnel per Station
  • 2 Fission Plants

    • Capable of powering base indefinitely
  • Battery Backup

    • Capable of powering emergency systems
  • Planetary Level Comm Unit

    • Requirements:

      • Base Computer Connection to Command Processor
      • Energy Grid Connection: Active
  • Morathi Orbital Sensors

    • Requirements:

      • Base Computer Connection to Command Processor
      • Energy Grid Connection: Active
  • Fan'goul Gravitic Sensors

    • Requirements:

      • Base Computer Connection to Command Processor
      • Energy Grid Connection: Damaged


  • 730 Support Personnel (Drivers, Pilots, Mechanics, Comm Techs, Cooks)
  • 250 Pirates (Imprisoned)
  • 170 Infantry
  • 30 Tankers
  • 5 Argent Knights


  • Aerospace:

    • Aircraft:

      • 1 Wing of 60 Air Superiority Fighters

        • Single Pilot Fighters
        • Primarily Air-to-Air with limited munition capacity
    • Aerospace:

      • 1 Argent Infiltrator (Glorious Service)
      • 1 Albion Troop Transport (AST-7423 “Oilspill”)

        • 6 Support or Pirate Crew
        • Capacity:

          • 200 Combat Ready Infantry or
          • 50 Infantry & 6 Tanks or
          • 1 Huge Mech
  • Ground:

    • Combat:

      • 60 Gladius Medium Tanks

        • 5 Tankers to operate
      • 1 Gormagog Land Carrier

        • 200 Support Personnel to operate

          • Capacity:

            • 3 Wings (empty)
            • 1 Aerospace Vessel
            • 12 Huge Mech Cradles
            • 2,000 Personnel
    • Support:

      • 6 Mobile Field Bases

        • 2 Crew
        • 10 Support Personnel to operate


  • 32x Anti-Ground Golan Defense Batteries 4 per side of base

    • Requirements:

      • Base Computer Connection to Command Processor
      • Energy Grid Connection: Active
      • Full Operation: 10 Support, Pirates, or Infantry per Battery
      • Reduced Operations: 5 Support, Pirates, or Infantry per Battery & Base Computer Connection
    • Status: Moderate Damage, can operate at reduced capacity
  • 14x Hydra Anti-Air Turrets

    • Requirements:

      • Base Computer Connection to Command Processor
      • Energy Grid Connection: Active
      • Full Operation: 4 Support, Pirates, or Infantry per Turret
    • Status: Fully Operational
  • 4x Long-Tom Artillery Pieces

    • Requirements:

      • Energy Grid Connection: Active
      • Full Operation:

        • 1 Support, Pirate, or Infantry per Artillery
        • Base Computer Connection to Command Processor
      • Reduced Operations:

        • 10 Support, Pirates, or Infantry per Artillery
        • Mech with Target Acquisition Device
    • Status: Fully Operational
  • 2x Gallowglass Anti-Capital Orbital Defense Cannons

    • Requirements

      • Base Computer Connection to Command Processor
      • Energy Grid Connection: Active
  • 1x Aegis Base Shield Surface Shield system

    • Requirements:

      • Base Computer Connection to Command Processor
      • Energy Grid Connection: Active
  • 1x Merlon Orbital Shield system

    • Requirements:

      • Base Computer Connection to Command Processor
      • Energy Grid Connection: Active
Argent Knights, House of Death 3, Exigo Station

Surging out of the planet’s atmosphere the glorious service skims low across the troposphere to avoid pirate fighters. An exhausted Wassi turns the controls over to the Goblin pilot, Pawkets, her arms drooping as she goes to get some rest from keeping the transport on station. Pawkets grins a shark toothed smile. All that time in the sims would finally pay off.

Here’s our target,” Technobowl transmits, giving the coordinates to a point further out into the black above the planet. The engines burn hotter as the vessel gets further away from the planet’s gravity well.

“Enroute.” Pawkets confirms.

Within the vessel the rest of the team is at their stations, Crissum and Tvarag are reloading, recharging, and rearming the squad’s weapons and armour. Doggo sits back with a cool Space Pale Ale listening to twanging music in the weapon’s turret. The unconscious Graes remains in the team’s Medbay, nutrition tubes feeding and rehydrating the simian.

“Guys…I think you should see this,” Pawkets voice comes through the team’s com-net.

The view ahead of the Argent Knights is one pulled straight from a dark tale.  An ionized field of debris, intense radiation, unstable reactor cores, and unexploded munitions. The third house of death, Exigo Station, had been hidden inside the remnants of an ages old space battle

“According to the sensors the god damned magnetic charge that laces the area has kept the cloud from drifting apart. This must have been a f*&$ing incredible battle.” Crissum curses looking over Techno’s shoulder.

“The coordinates are almost dead center of the debris field,” Pawkets queries fretfully, “I can’t see anything through the cloud, are we really going in?”

I have a weak signal in the right destination.” The Grey transmits.

“Firming a F*&$ing path through with the sensors,” Crissum directs, “punch it.”

Tvarag grabs a beer from the new mini fridge, tossing one up the waiting Vlaka as he mans a gun battery.

“Boy, I tell you what, I do love shewting things.” Doggo hoots, cracking open the cold freedom can and bringing his cannons to full readiness.


The entire ship shudders as the shields flair.

“Space Mine, my bad.” Pawkets calls out.


“Another Mine, Mine bad.” He cheerfully yells, a slight note of panic in his voice. The ship veers heavily as the pair manning sensors maps out a less direct, but fewer obstacle path towards the sensor ghost.

WATCH OUT FOR THAT DRIVE CORE!” A panicked mental cry causes everyone to twitch.

“I saw it!” The goblin reassures, moving the joystick moments after the Grey’s mental scream.

“Screw goddamned stealth,” Crissum profanes as he highlights a series of targets, “f*&$ing start shooting.”

With little need for encouragement the ship’s weapons start speaking, blasting enough structural support out of an old Vesk battlewagon that Pawkets flew the Service into the avoid the minefield around it.

“Heavy ionization ahead,” the sensor team reports, “there’s a void in the debris with something at the center.”

Breaking through the last of the obstacles, a small, but heavily armed station sits ahead of the ship. The two-level station sits at the eye of the debris, a bubble of safety in the deadly wrecks. Large Capital grade anti-ship cannons and a battery of smaller point defense weapons spot the central hub of the rotating station.

“Wha’ in tha name of freedom is wrong with that?” The Vlaka asks, zooming in with his weapon optics.

The station obviously stands in a state of distress, red warning lights wink through the viewports of the main level, on the upper level two of the three docking arms are blasted, bodies and wreckage tumbling around the artificial gravity of the station.

With only a minor scraping collision to the station, the Glorious Service is brought to the remaining docking collar.

“Listen Wassi, get the F*&$ing ship away from this piece of S#$% station the moment we’re clear.” The Strix politely requests as the suited-up team board the station.

WASSI!” the usual response came. Moments later the hiss of depressurization and a slight thud indicate the departure of the Argent transport.

The station had a barely noticeable hum from its reactors, silence pervades the station, no chatter, no boots walking down deck plates, no idle com-chatter. The team barely take a dozen steps before a service locker slams open. A half dozen weapons pointing at the source of the noise.

NOOOO! Wait, we need to escape!” Weapon muzzles tracked the Lashanto alien as he raced down the corridor, grubby sweat stained coveralls hang over his frame. Yellow cheeks are slightly sunken from lack of nutrition and an odd fire burns in the eyes of the humanoid.

“Why, no, please, we need to leave now….please, we need to leave now.” The worker says, slumping down against the airlock door.

“Who are you, what happened?” One of the team asks.

“I’m Susreth Susaro,” the exhausted station member bleakly answers, “the monsters killed everyone.”

The beleaguered alien weeps softly, he begins telling a tale of horror. Exigo station is an albionan research station that explores extradimensional instability caused by unique conditions in the battle site. Susreth is responsible for basic administration, making sure supplies come in, and the facility maintains operations.

“The creatures were brought back through from one of the rifts that formed. They are sleek killing machines. They were brought back sedated; their carapace was incredible. Lasers bounced off and energy weapons barely caused any deflection in the tough material.”

The alien sags against the wall.

“Then these strange humans appeared wearing black clothes that weren’t clothing, but old uniforms, that were actually archaic clothing…..”Susreth’s yellow eyes glaze slightly, “They cut the security feeds and the creatures were released. Everyone died, the creatures are unstoppable. They tore through a power armour squad like the ferrofibers were wood pulp.”

A few minutes of questioning established that the city’s safety protocols blew the two shuttles when it discovered aliens stowed aboard, between the safety protocols and the aliens none survived and parts of the station were exposed to hard vacuum. He had cut one of the four lifts and two others were destroyed in the explosions, but hopefully the creatures are stuck in the lower portion of the station. He helpfully provides a map of the main level before returning to his hiding place in the locker.

Even combined fire would only temporarily put them down for less than a minute before they got up and kept killing.

“They hunt by sound, try to stay quiet.”

Getting few more answers from the sobbing man the party slowly makes there way forwards into the station complex.

“You might want to take off your F*&$ing armour lizard,” Crissum chides and the slink of metal on metal rings loudly in the hallway.

“Nah, it’s better if I keep it on.” Tvarag replies with a nonchalant and grating shrug.

Making their way through the team moves past scenes of quiet, scattered parts, empty lifter suits, until they arrive in a warehouse.

“Bork Bork, that deckplate is moved,” Doggo points as they check a supply closet. Gathering around the party confirms that a deckplate is missing, opening access to the subfloor.

Continuing further through the warehouse the team pauses as Tvarag holds his fist high. There…in the shadows. The dark corner high on a rack is darker than even the low lighting should have allowed for. Quietly he raises his machine gun and gestures with the barrel.


All the party heads whip to watch Doggo, who sheepishly nudges away a wrench with his foot from where he brushed against the racks.

With a sibilant hiss the darkness uncoils, black chitin drinking in the lights as the alien, over 2 meters tall and nearly three meters from snout to black knife tip tail crawls quietly down the racks and moves towards the party.

Listening to the warning, the team silently move to flank it, lifting weapons as it enters their kill zone.


A quick glance shows Doggo having stepped on the same wrench he dropped earlier.

The creature moves fast, before the party can blink it races forwards, its long talons opening up the dog’s suit.

“Wha’ in the name of patriotism, I’m being attacked by an illegal alien.” Doggo cries, “This doesn’t make Albion Great.”

The party unleashes the full might of their weapons, to almost no result. Doggo and Crissum’s laser rifles score direct hits, only to deflect off the dark carapace. Only the barking machine gun seems to do anything, slightly staggering the creature and cracking its armour, causing a milky white fluid to leak out and seal over the injuries.

A second claw swipe shreds more of Doggo, fur and blood spattering his suit.

Turning to run Doggo sprints to follow the already running goblin, if not for a well timed sticky grenade tangling the creature he would have been brought down by the creature.

“It’s trapped, “Tvarag cheers, but his elation is short lived as the creature effortlessly tears free of the sticky mucous before chasing the fleeing Vlaka.

Doggo runs, getting closer and close as he tries to get to the safety of the bulkhead doors where Pawkets has already run through. The creature draws closer behind him, the sound of its skittering claws digging into the metal decking a reminder of its lethal potential. Even if he got past the doors, there’s no way he could shut them in time.

“Oh Bork!”


Unaware of their comrades fate the other three make their way for a different door as the goblin and Vlaka race out of sight. They move with slow and deliberate steps. Technobowl opens a short corridor and the trio duck into it.

“I wonder where it went?” The Strix asks, glancing behind at the bulkhead, but continuing forwards anyone, putting one more door between him and the creature.

Ahead of him is a computer room, monitors and terminal standing blinking in the station lighting.

“Perfect, hey F*&$heads, I found a computer room.” Crissum cheers, moving up to the first terminal.

“Oh that’s, awesome, now we can see what’s going on.” Tvarag agrees, his armoured footfalls ringing on the mesh decking as he makes his way into the room.

Crissum’s blue skin grows pale as he glances at an open spot in the floor, the grating having been peeled down and away.

“F*&$ this!” he declares, moving swiftly to the south door, abandoning the console.

THUMP Techno backs away from the northern door as a skittering sound of claws on steel rings from the bulkhead he was playing with. He too retreats, shutting the second door and following Crissum out of the control room and back into the hall they originally entered the station through.

“Huh, looks like we went in a circle.” Tvarag opines, his heavy boots ringing loudly on the mesh decking.

The moment the Vesk steps onto the more solid tiles Techno shuts the doors to the computer room.

Glancing down the long corridor, they see a familiar pair.

Pawkets used his psychic hand to time the door closing perfectly as he heads into another chamber, the doors closing just ahead of the xeno’s claws.

Injecting himself with a healing serum, the canid lopes forwards for the next door, following Pawkets as the advanced serum stops the bleeding and knits flesh.

“Ok, here’s the plan. I go back in there, pump loud music over the Tannoy system, and we deafen it.” Crissum says. Not waiting for dissent he and Techno head back to the control room and open the door.

The hiss of the door opening reveals the insectoid black shape of the creature as it makes its way along the deck, stepping through the now open computer room door.

All but one member of the team freeze at the hideous alien visage, bringing his reaction cannon up from its sling, Tvarag charges the weapon.

Stepping in between the members of the team the creature lets out a low clicking whistle.

Doggo backs up in fear, still aching from the cuts that burn his chest. His nervousness causes him to back into a loose wrench, kicking it back a pace. With the new noise the creature races forwards between the team, zeroing in on the source of the sound.

“Oh Bork!”

Having prepared his psychic ability, Techno reaches out, the Grey touching Tvarag’s weapon. The enhanced bolt that ripped from the gun smashed into the Xeno creature’s carapace, causing a spiderweb of cracks that quickly filled with white fluid.

The creature wheeled, ignoring the cowering Doggo to race towards the Vesk. Doggo, Pawkets, and a screaming Suresh, jumping from his locker, fled to the unexplored section of the station.

Bravely holding the creature at bay Tvarag fires again, slightly damaging the fiend. It slashes his chest, cutting easily through the armour. Falling backwards he barely clears the door as Crissum slams the button, sealing the room in the monster’s face.

At the other end of the corridor, down a turn Doggo is frantically assembling his freedom turret. Glancing up he sees the creature racing down the hallway at him.

“OH BORK!” He yells, “Identify Friend or Foe? BORK THAT JUST FIRE AT DEM ILLEGAL ALIENS!” He whimpers, engaging the turret which begins spraying a volley of freedom at the onrushing alien, erecting a wall of spraying metal between the two of them.

Falling back he dives through the hatch that Pawkets slams shut behind him.

The two sit with their backs to the wall listening to the bark of the weapon and scream of metal as the creature reaches and slashes at the weapon.

Then silence.

“What the F&*$ is happening Sh&%bag?” Crissum in his politest tone asks through the team Comms.

“We don’t know.” Pawkets responds, “And we’re not opening the door to find out.”

The Vesk, Grey, and Strix sneak out of their room, happy to put the open grating behind another wall. The technical experts had used their time well and could barely hear themselves over the noise blasting from the speakers. The hope was that it would deafen the creature.

Sneaking forwards Tvarag walks into the hallway, servos tracking the turret fires another salvo of bullets, striking him heavily. With the glance he could tell the creature was down, almost fallen on top of the firing platform.

“Turn the DAMN MACHINE OFF!” Crissum screams to be heard into his Comm.

A short while later the machine is off and they stand over the body of the creatures, its black carapace mottled with white coagulated fluid. Pawkets unloads several rounds from his sidearm into its head for good measure.

“Throw it into the water.” Suresh says, cowering behind a nearby door, gesturing at the catwalk going over a large fluid tank.

“Let’s throw it out an airlock.” The team decide.

Doggo heaves the creature into his arms and makes his way towards the airlock, Pawkets and Tvarag escorting him. Crissum and Techno retreat into the computer room.

The plan is simple, carry the creature to the airlock, dump it there, and then retreat behind the bulkheads, hack the door to open without a ship attached and jettison it into space.

Unfortunately, fate had other ideas, as Pawkets nears the airlock the creature stirs. The Vesk and Vlaka flee as Pawkets can fly himself to safety.

Before he reaches the end of the corridor, the creature wakes up, slashing a ragged gash in the goblin.

BLOW IT! BLOW IT! BLOW IT!” The Wounded goblin screams as his suit’s autopatch begins closing the rend.

With a halfhearted Shrug and a quick ’F*&$ it’, Crissum and Techno trigger the program.

As the air evacuates Doggo and Tvarag grab onto struts and keep themselves from flying out. Pawkets is not so lucky and goes spinning into the void.

The doors slide shut and begin to repressurize, unfortunately for the team the creature had dug its claws into the decking and remained within the station.

“Well, Time to Die!” Tvarag shrugs and opens up with his machine gun, only to be ignored as the creature makes its way to a hatch that Crissum had welded shut earlier and uses its immense strength to tear through, disappearing below the decking into a crawl space.

The team takes a break, rearming, patching wounds, and makes their way to the elevator to the main level.

“OK guys, let’s get in and out silently and quickly. Get what we need, then get out of here.” They plan as the lift descends to the main level.

Mission Briefing, Argent Knights
1st Mission Argent Knights

Knights, Congratulations on your promotion from the Argent Lancers or the Argent Shield.

Your first mission will be assisting a garrison within the Chaos March. An Albion owned planet originally, it exists between the Fay nation and the Draconic Drakmoot. With the forces depleted by a thrust from Jabberwock's main forces the planet is lightly garrisoned and has been plagued by pirates of the Cerulean Suns.

You are being sent to man a military station, engage in patrols, and to protect the base and its weapon stockpile. The tour will last two standard galactic months before being relieved by other elements.

Resupply for weapons is easy to come by and is included in the contract. As such ammunition will be plentiful along with any repairs to your mechs.

Closing the Aeons, Starting the Fire Team

Due to ennui of life we are going to table the Strange Aeons campaign.

In its place in February the Thursday night group will launch Fire Team Six.

I am open to a different night of the week and am available any night except Wednesdays, if no strong preference exists we'll continue on Thursdays.

This is a gritty real world game. It is set in the year 2029 and the location is Dallas, Texas. Those interested feel free to reach out to me on messenger or through obsidian portal.

It will be GM'd by myself with some sessions run by Jarod.

CIU in the Pyramid Depths

The lower tunnel echo slightly as the soft footfalls of the party reverberate from the steps. Slowly light spills onto the carved stone tiles.

Holding up his torch Tak-sharu peers into the gloom, a soft red glow illuminates the chamber, runes daubed onto the floor in front of them.

The desert soldier moves into the room, halting just in front of the first such sigil.

“What have we here?” Asks Quinn, moving ahead as the rest of the team file into the long chamber, Clovis and Remy rest against the walls at the base of the stairs, catching their breath from the mad rush away from the ancient guardian above.

Jinx throws glances behind the party up the stairwell, even now unsure if the towering construct may still be behind them.

Step on the rune, it’s a great idea

“These appear to be similar to that one we encountered earlier within the…” The rest of Quinn’s words are overpowered by a small explosion. Several small blasts appear from the still air in a vertical column.

Tak staggers backwards, propelled by the force of the rune he jumped on.

“They are dangerous,” he sagely warns the party, playing with the freshly torn hem of his shirt where a livid bruise is beginning to form.

The others in the party barely acknowledge the advice save for Jinx who feels her hand twitch in the desire to smack the wiry Osirian.

“Perhaps they only respond to the living.” Iohs’ dry rasp wheezes from his bandages. Stepping forwards he lightly plants a foot on the next room. The force drives the undead being back several steps as well.

‘If only we had kept some pieces of Drell.’ More than one member of the party muses quietly.

“If only we had kept some pieces of Drell.” Tak-Sharu uncouthly voices.

Ignoring the hopefully concussed Tak and irritated Mummy, Remy move forwards, “Time to do ma job.” He gruffly intones, pulling out a small magnifying glass from his tools.

Kneeling just beyond one of the runes he begins an inspection of the strange magic, flinching slightly as a copper piece lands onto the rune before rolling further on the red glowing floor.

“This is magical jib jab,” he says, turning the floor back over to Quinn.

Working together Quinn and Remy begin unraveling the magical threads holding the rune together, ignoring the silver, and then gold coins that land near them as they work. With less than a dozen feet of work left Quinn hits the floor as a whooping Tak-Sharu bounds over her, using her kneeling back as a spring board.

His leap easily clears the remaining rows of runes, landing nearly fifteen feet away.

Following the wild warrior’s way, Quinn experimentally leaps to a patch of floor, mysteriously clear of the glowing runes, a quick skip further and she is through the magical field.

The rest of the party pick there way across carefully through the cleared path, Clovis watching the shadowy rear, his senses focused on any sign of pursuit, knowing that with no side paths, and the wide corridors that if they are cornered here there is but one way to go.

Carrying the shining and glowing Scythe from above Tak and the party are amazed as the silvery surface slips away, falling into the floor and slipping like quicksilver between the tiles revealing a worn and fragile weapon beneath the lustrous surface.

Remy, Jinx, and Quinn begin discussing the item as Tak steps back across the threshold to the room, magically the silver rises from the floor and closes back around the scythe, returning the weapon to its original luster.

This causes more discussion from the academically minded as Tak leaps backwards and forwards across the threshold, causing the quicksilver to float in air for study. The Osirian warrior continues this until he gets bored.

Tak and Remy take the lead, their torches casting short shadowy illumination in front of the pair as they proceed down the corridor, Jinx is close behind, with the rear being brought up a few paces back by Quinn, Iohs, and Clovis watching the rear.

“What’s that.” Tak urgently asks, thrusting his arm in front of Remy and pointing to an innocuous floor tile. “Is that a trap?”

While nothing is immediately apparent and there is nothing discernable from that one stone to any of the others, they have seen Remy dutifully examines it. While at first glance the floor appeared to be nothing more than carved rock, worn smooth by the tread of others; a second and third examination reveal it to be a chiseled stone, deteriorated and flat by the steps of passersby.

Remy gives a second look at Tak, trying to decide if the swarthy man is having a go at him or is having one of his frequent delusional bouts.

“That…is a stone.” Remy confirms, a statement to which Tak nods. Glancing further along the corridor, the headdress wearing foreigner notices a passage branching off to the right. “Lewks like we got a way ahead.”

Sprinting ahead with Khopesh drawn Tak leaps planting both feet wide across the corridor and growling, “Not today passage way.”

A small stirring of dust from his run is the only response.

As Remy steps up behind Tak to look down the passageway his clothes are ruffled as if a great drawing of breath is pulling them further along. Both men spin to face further down the main hall they were taking in time to see the wind whipping together to form two half visible manifestations of force.

“Oh,” exclaims Quinn, “How interesting, those appear to be enraged air elementals.”

“How da ya know they're enraged?” Remy asks, but the answer comes in the form of the two elementals rushing straight at them.

Tak plants his feet and the buffeting winds rush past him, rushing over Jinx, and finally stopping over Iohs, whose body is picked up and thrown against a wall. Dust rushes from the mostly dead being’s mouth in surprise.

Remy is less fortunate; his slender frame is plucked up and spirited away down the recently discovered passageway, past a burial chamber, where he is thrown down another corridor against a wall. He barely manages to hold onto his weapon and headdress as his bones groan from the pressure.

In the main hallway the rest of the party try for a swift victory, but the creature is as hard to strike as a leaf in the wind. Quinn blasts with her firearm, Tak slashes with his sword, Iohs strikes with his soul, and Quinn tries her hardest to kill it with her mind. Unfortunately, the weary party has been hard pressed since they first entered the pyramid through the blood rite and their strength wains.

Quinn’s shots go wide as the creature pulls the simulacrum parts of itself into its own vapid body avoiding her bullets.

Tak’s tired muscles can’t drive his blade fast enough to catch the elusive foe.

Ioh’s reserves are drained and his willpower barely damages the creature.

Jinx stumbles on her words and gestures, her spells fly with less energy than expected.

Clovis, convinced that he heard something behind the group keeps watching their rear, waiting for the enemy to appear.

Tak-Sharu screams in frustration, robes flying as he races down the corridor to aid Remy, his best friend, all alone against these creatures.

Luckily due to its magical nature the adventurer’s everburning torch stays lit and illuminates the fierce battle. Remy bleeds from several wounds, but the essence of the elemental is greatly diminished.

The Air Whisp’s ploy had backfired, unlike its companion, with the narrow hallway penning it in, and his back to a wall, many of Remy’s strikes have dissipated much of the fierce wind.

Screaming his rage Tak runs closer, distracting the elemental for a brief moment as Remy runs his weapon through it, it vanishes as silently as it appeared, the dust in the chamber stilling and floating back to the floor.

“Told Ya, didn I!” Remy says, leaning heavily on the wall. He begins to limp forwards, brushing past the insane desert warrior.

“Here my friend,” Tak says pushing a small vial into his hands. “take this!” There is a discomforting note of urgency and warmth in the desert man’s voice.

“What is it?” The injured man asks, glancing at the vial skeptically, with his luck Tak had just handed him a vial of scorpion venom.

“It is the healing potion that you gave me earlier, but I did not need as I am as tough as the very pyramids themselves.”

Remy glances down at the potion, then back at the Osirian, then back down one more time in disbelief. “That….is actually useful.” He says warmly before downing the liquid. Suddenly a burning clench in his throat and body, vision goes black and for just a moment it feels like his heart has stopped. What did Tak actually give him, he was sure it was a healing potion.

Then the pressure eases, his heart beats normally and colour returns to his sight, the empty vial drops from his fingers and the wounds covering his body close, slightly pink scars magically forming as strength returns.

“Got a, ahem, kick it does.” Remy jokes with a cough.

“I couldn’t let you come to harm, you’re my oldest friend and closest companion.” Tak returns, either having missed or ignoring the brief moment of pain that the other man experienced, causing Remy to wonder if it even had happened.

“We met a week ago,” Remy says.

“As I said, my oldest friend.” Tak smiles encouragingly.

“Riiiight.” The foreigner agrees, sometimes with Tak it’s better not to ask or argue.

The rest of their team meets them as they cross the burial chamber, relief evident on at least Jinx and Quinnn’s faces as they see the headdress wearing explorer.

Tak returns to the intersection and takes up station with Clovis, watching the passageway while the others search the room.

They find several treasures in the sarcophagi, Quinn examines the writing of one such and describes the history of this warrior, a great general. Pulling free a blade from the sarcophagi there is a magical Khopesh in a scabbard. While unable to pierce the spells upon it, she is able to decipher the ancient Osirian hieroglyphs, the magical blade has the characters for Thunder and Force engraved into the blade.

She calls up the passageway and Iohs takes Tak’s place on guard as he returns to the chamber.

“Here you are Tak,” She says nervously, “since you use a Khopesh, it makes sense to give you this.” She extends the bared steel blade to him.

“Ha!” Tak barks out, “A truly impressive blade for one such as I. Please take my own in return.” He says unsheathing his sword and extending it.

“Ohhh, no, I couldn’t,” Quinn extends both hands in defense.

“But please be aware, that one day a man will come to you in the dark night, he will call your last name, but without every third letter. He will call you from your sleep and tent and ask you a boon. You must grant this boon or else he shall take a third of your soul.” Tak warns, trying to force the blade into her unwilling hands.

“No, no, no, no,” the academic insists, “That’s quite alright, I don’t need it, here, you’ll want the sheath to,” she adds trying to distract the probably insane man.

But to her sorrow this only encourages the Osirian, “Ahh, of course, a scabbard,” Quinn’s face falls and Jinx slaps a hand across her face, “take this as well, but please be aware that one day a woman will come to you in the bright day, she will whisper your name, but without any vowels. She will summon you from the street and give you a task. You must complete this task or else she will give you a third of her soul.”

Quinn searches the clearly insane man’s face, stumbling in her speech for an opening.

“God Damnit, Tak-Sharu!” Jinx yells, the sounds reverberating down the passageway and out to the hallway, where Iohs and Clovis don’t even turn their heads, used by now to such outbursts when the two are together for more than a minute.

The Osirian shuts up, takes the blade strapping it to his waist before wrapping his own and putting it into his backpack, he also takes the large steel shield, strapping it to his back with the comment that it will now protect his back. A comment blatantly ignored by the two women.

Jinx marvels at the Cold Iron Longsword, taking it into her own possession.

With muttered agreements the group decides to retreat back to the defensible entrance, sneaking through the halls they make their way up to the antechamber and bed down for a rest.

Hours later the party wakens, sorting out their bedrolls and gear, and prepares to head back down.

“Hey Tak, what’s up with that Khopesh?” Jinx asks as they prepare.

The rest of the party tune out Tak’s long rambling answer, which takes several minutes for the Osirian to essentially say. ‘It was forged by someone who heard a thunderstorm.’

With Remy in the lead the party spends an hour picking their way back down the pyramid to the undercroft, most of their hearts beating almost as heavy as the thumps caused by the ancient guardian.

They pick their way down the dark hallway where it turns to the right again for a second time.

Venturing into a wide hallway, their eyes are drawn to the glowing red runes on the floor. This chamber is different however. Along the right side there are pitons and rope strung above waist height, and part of the walls and ceiling have collapsed along the left side, leaving mounds of debris over much of the corridor and runes.

Remy using his climbing skills begins picking his way over the traps. He lowers himself down as he spies the torn-up body of a gnoll resting on an inert rune. Examining the corpse, there are wounds all over the body, including the impossibly small wounds he himself recently bore.

Remy barely has time to curse as the wind picks up and two more air elemental form in the air.

This time however the fight is brief, the party is rested and prepared for this foe. Despite Tak being left surrounded by explosives the elementals are slain having caused few wounds.

Quinn’s mind is racing, she hypothesizes that given her knowledge of the rune’s structure it would be possible to change their very nature.

Her experiment ends in failure as the rune blows up in her face.

Sick of the delays Remy makes his way back and drags the protesting Quinn back over the runes. She goes limp and does not struggle for fear of him actually dropping her onto the terrifying explosives below.

Remy continues this process until only Tak and Clovis remain. Clovis leaps onto the rope and makes it several spaces before he misses a hand hold and falls, getting launched back into the air by the detonation. With Remy’s assistance he makes it the rest of the way.

Jinx tosses the stranded Tak a potion of jump. Unfortunately, even the magical boost is not enough to clear the space from his standing position, and he rolls to safety, slightly bruised by the force of the blast.

Dusting themselves off and making a few jokes the party ventures into the next chamber. They begin to spread out around the large room when a barking laughter freezes them in their tracks and a group of Gnolls step from the shadows.

No One's Like Iohs
The Song of Iohs

Gosh, it joys me to see you Iohs
Looking so down in the dumps
Every guy here'd love to deceive you, Iohs
Especially when giving you lumps
There's no man in town as despised as you
You're everyone's least favorite guy
Everyone's cowed and reviled by you
And it's not very hard to see why

No one's sick as Iohs
No one tricks as Iohs
No one's clique as incredibly slick as Iohs
For there's no man in town half as ghastly
Demented, a pure bone bag
You can ask any Quinn, Jinx, or Stanley
And they'll tell you who they’d prefer to slag

Who swims through sand like Iohs?
Who casts curse like Iohs?
Who's much more than the sum of his wraps like Iohs?

"As a specimen, yes, I'm intimidating"
"My, what a guy, that Iohs!”

"I needed encouragement
Thank you Tak-Sharu"

"Well, there's no one as easy to insult as you
Too much?"

No one digs holes like Iohs
Steals souls like Iohs
In a wrestling match nobody bites like Iohs
When I hunt, I sneak up with my spell
And gnolls of the sands hear their death bell
First I carefully aimed for the liver
And I cast from behind

Is that fair?
I don't care

No one casts like Iohs
Matches ghasts like Iohs
In a match nobody cheats like Iohs
I'm especially good at desecrating
Ten points for Iohs

When I was a lad, I ate a dozen souls
Every morning to help me get large
And now that I'm grown, I eat two dozen souls
So I'm roughly the size of a barghast

Who has brains like Iohs
Lurks behind panes like Iohs!
Who can make up these endless refrains like Iohs
I use bones in all of my decorating

Say it again
Who's the corpse among men?
Who's the super unblessed?
Don't you know? can't you guess?
Ask his enemies and his five hangers-on
There's just one guy in town, who's got all of it down

"And his name's I-O
I believe there's another O
It just occurred to me that I'm illiterate
And I've never actually have to spell it out loud before"

Dawn breaks over Briarstone
End of Module 1

With the death of Zandalus and his Oneirgons the yellow fog, a portal to the Dreamlands which had clung so fiercely to Briarstone burns away in the morning sun.

A single boat is all that remains tied to the docks.

Several hundred feet from the docks a second boat disappears away, a one armed doctor sits at one and a young dark haired human teenager sits at the other, finally the odd looking little dog stands at the prow as they row away towards Thrushmoor.

Lead by Malech the group returns to the library in Briarstone and begins researching the remaining unchewed books. Tae and Bran assist the scarred tiefling.

Meanwhile the rest of the group loot everything that isn't nailed down from the cultist stronghold on what remains of the second floor.

Yorick begins rowing the survivors of Zandalus' terror to Thrushmoor, he promises to be back in a day for the saviours of the asylum.

The following loot is recovered:

From the Den of Zandalus:

8 pouches, each containing 50 GP.

Wand of Command

an elixir of truth

scroll of summon monster III

a book title The Chain of Nights

+1 War Razor

Ring of Protection +1

Oil of magic weapon

potion of bear's endurance

potion of cure moderate wounds

potion of invisibility

Oniegrogen room:

With Zandalus's death the papers that were fluttering in the Oneirogen room still. It takes over an hour to collect them all and it will take at least 10 hours of work for someone to put them into the correct order to figure out what it does.

In the Bag Lady's room:

Bracers of Armor +2

A non-magical harrow deck, but the foreign trader is a strange veiled figure in yellow bearing an armful of rubies.

200 GP

12 bite-sized pieces of jerky

A pearl tooth worth 18gp


Nightmares of Dreams
1st Session, 1st Strange

Cold mist wraps around the five humanoids as they jolt into consciousness. They look around the harsh unfamiliar landscape swathed in curtains of yellow while amber tendrils of the substance writhe and snake across the ground.

Gathering their wits, the five look around. Two Gnolls, one tall and burly with dusky red fur and the other smaller but no less muscular with tawny fur stand near one another. Across from them an albino Ratfolk woman and a hulking tiger featured white Catfolk share confused looks.

Finally, a brown ursine squats in the middle of the five, its expression confused as he runs a claw through the muddy dirt.

Through the mists a little way past, the sound of steel scraping on stone rakes towards the five. The mist rolls forwards. The Ratfolk shivers as she feels the malignant hatred within the yellow fog, her feet root in place and her breath catches in her throat.

The large Gnoll and the Catfolk share a quick glance before sprinting the opposite direction, through a chained gate. The steel gateway is massive, easily overshadowing both as they sprint beneath it the chained structure even though open but a crack wide enough to allow a pair of carts moving abreast through.

The smaller Gnoll takes a few steps after them but pauses at the gate while the manlike bear steps to the trees and speaks to them in a strange sibilant language.

From the mist a shadowy figure steps, hidden from view of all but the frozen woman as the saffron tide rolls over her. She screams briefly as her body is torn to shreds, her head bounces free and lands by the others. Her blood scatters across the ground providing a new colour to the yellowy landscape.

With evil close, the Gnoll and bear run through the gateway following the other pair.

The trees loom ominous to either side of the pathway, the mist roils and dances almost gleefully alongside, wisps of something appear here and there through the trees.

Darting through a shattered stone archway the promise of civilization and safety appears ahead. The smaller Gnoll and the Catfolk sprint ahead, followed at a distance by the Ursine.

The larger Gnoll, mind driven half mad with panic spins, it is caught up in its instincts and faces the foe lurking as a coward does in the shadows.

He allows the mist to curl around him, the tendrils of fog caressing him jealousy. The fur across his body stands on end, muscles clenched and tight as the trees fade from view, replaced with the golden haze.

A vague shape looms in front and with muscles trained by years of action he responds with a vicious haymaker. The feeling of flesh bursting and bones crunching drifts back to him from his memory like a summer breeze.

The hand that returns from the fog however is not the one he knows. The fingers are missing, bloody nubs where his talons once lay. The Gnoll looks up as the shadow encompasses him and a hand burst through his chest.

As true darkness closes around his vision he sees that the heart is still beating, blood spraying from it onto the ground.

A distance away the smaller Gnoll and Catfolk stumble as they are sprayed with red viscous blood.

A heart arching over their heads lays in the middle of the partially cobbled road. Impossibly it still beats, blood spraying out the sides with every shuddering twitch.

Unnoticed by the fleeing pair, the blood pools into the word, “save”.

The Ursine, racing through the path finds himself in an alley, to one side is a graveyard.

Footsteps echo in front of and behind the bearman.

Darting into the graveyard as the yellow fog rolls together he makes his way to an eerie glowing church.

He lumbers in through the broken front door as a shape looms ahead in the mist. A twisted smile and sharp razor glinting in the yellow light.

Gasping for breath the two slow down as they run through a park. They are quickly tiring of this game of cat and mouse.

A figure appears behind them on the path, the wind bringing a sonorous moaning to their ears.

In the middle of the path ahead a bloody bear skin rug stretches across the path, perfectly flensed from the missing body. They hurdle over it and the blood stain, a large “UP” written in bold on the cobbles.

The tower is near, reaching the base of the cliff the two begin scaling the walls, their claws finding easy purchase in the crags and broken black stones.

The ratfolk reaches up and grasps a large stone, but as her weight transfers to the granite it slips free from the wall and she plummets to the path below.

Landing on her back she is dazed and pained as a shadow blocks out the saffron light.

A smiling face bending over hers is the last sight she sees before a flash of metal permanently steals her vision.

Alone, the white felinid climbs higher and higher, he flinches away as a blood soaked war razer flashes past with herculean force to embed itself into the rocky edifice.

Set between two white ears a pair of eyes stare sightlessly at him from the shish-kabob where they hang. The blood splattering the stone before his hand spells out the word, “Wake”.

In the distance he hears a voice as he pulls himself up. “Wake Up. Save Me!”

Ignoring the sound as the world closes around him he begins the final run across the causeway to the tower and safety.

“Wake Up! Save Me!”

‘It’s not real, this is just a dream’ the catman realizes as ahead on the path a figure swathed in tattered robes begins to solidify.

‘It’s not real.’ He silently cries. His snout quivering as he falls to his knees, pinching and punching his own flesh.

“It’s Not Real!” He snarls as the figure steps forwards and the blade descends.

With a jolt he wakes up in a cell, the ratwoman bleeding from her eyes staring at him.

SAVE ME!” a voice shrieks in common from beyond a set of bars. She is wearing a soiled and tattered hospital gown, the word Tertia stitched neatly on the front over her breast.

Looking down the Catman can see the word Quarto stitched on his gown’s own breast.

“Come over here and let me loose,” a barking voice calls out in common.

Crawling over to the cell bars and looking out Quarto makes out two of his fellow travelers in the dream.

Across the way the larger Gnoll stood, fists clenched around the bars of his cell.

“Free Us!” He barks in his harsh voice.

A mellifluous bark and a deep growl join from the wall sharing a side with the two.

The smaller Gnoll and the Big Ursine join in the chorus all focused on the center of the room.

In the center of the room a grisly sight meets the five pairs of eyes, a human male is strapped with heavy chords to an operating table, he is stripped bare and bleeding from many wounds.

The man screams in agony while begging for help as a tall dark haired woman wearing a doctor’s outfit slowly inserts a corkscrew into his thigh before pulling it and a chunk of flesh back out.

The cries of the


Not yet Added

The party escapes their cells, kills the woman whom is a Doppelganger, and searches the cellar. They discover their gear and suffer complete amnesia. They go by the names on their tattered gowns and escape over a pile of bodies into a small room.

Exiting the room it is night outside and they light a torch for those whom do not have darkvision. Leaving the room they come out into a dark internal courtyard, finding two of the walls collapsed to rubble, their path blocked, the only route out is a door in the western wall.