Alizarin Expedition: Marshes of Cormyr - Bungle in the Bog

[Syd's Blue Sky]

A now well known little pixie tacks up a notice on the board upstairs in the Alizarin.

Seeking information on archaic languages and divine runes. Contact Card or his Familiar with thoughts or translations. The fey familiar hovers before the parchment for a moment cradling her chin and humming loudly, then giggles as she adds a jagged scripted addendum above the reference to herself reading, "who does all his work anyway!"

Below the line is a sheet of parchment with a dozen copied runes upon it.

The pixie buzzes down to the stairs and through the halls of the college, gracefully dodging the bustle of academia. She alights outside a door near the kitchens where she slides a second copy of the notice under before stealing away with a cookie and heading back upstairs to her business.


//if your PC wants to take a swing at this PM me so I can properly organize the effort with the involved DM.

[Alizarin Spion - Sleeper Agent]

The absent-minded Eishur has probably passed by this notice more than a couple of times before finally noticing its existence. Giving the note a quick glance he recalls the findings that were made a while ago, in a monologue he utters: "So these are the runes they discovered. I probably should have helped out deciphering them rather than watch armor clad fighters ram their heads into magic barriers."

He disappears into the academy where he leaves a message.

[Syd's Blue Sky]

A new notice is applied to the board below the last.

Due both to this being outside my general purview and his current enthusiasm for this, I'm putting Eishur in charge of this particular study with the twelve runes. I ask that he handle future communication on this subject.

Card

[DM Grizwald]

*In the late hours of the night, Padrin could be seen wandering the camp. After making certain Card isn't around he then notifies the guard that he is going out to heard away the Gorgons.

After a few hours pass, a rumbling can be heard in the distance. As it approaches, the rumbling turns into a loud thunder and the forms can be made out as stampeding Gorgons. Suddenly, out of the bog, a man in dark furs and leathers emerges from the bog and after some chanting, he ignites the guard tower, burning it and the men inside. With a leap and a spin, the man shifts into a giant eagle and takes off into the night in an eastward direction, leaving the gorgons trampping through the camp.*

[Syd's Blue Sky]

A white cloaked man spends the better part of a day Teleporting around Cormyr with a pile of notices. No public center is skipped, everywhere from Suzail to Tyrluk is pasted with the note. In all, over a hundred copies are hung in any possible location.

Padrin. We need to speak.

Do you know what your fire spells did to the two men in that tower? They burned them alive. Do you know what the gorgons you brought into my camp did to the people within? They killed them and they ate them. This is what you did to our students, Padrin. You killed fourteen people, and for what? Did you know them? Did you know their names? Did you know their areas of study? Did you know how many siblings they had? Did you know their parents? Did you know them, Padrin?

Marius. Age eighteen. Human. He volunteered for field research. He was a brilliant young man with an obsession with ancient saurian society. He was trampled by hooves inside his tent where he was sleeping. He leaves behind a mother and three sisters.

Gerrit. Age eighteen. Half-elf. He was gored through by the horn of a gorgon, and then portions of his body were consumed by your flesh eating herd of cows. Hopefully in that order.

Alysa. Human. Age twenty-two. A lucky one. She was turned to stone and then her body was shattered.

Hollace. Human. Age twenty-three. Dead.

Dele. Hin. Dead.

Katelin. Dead.

That's just six, Padrin. There are eight more. I want you to know what you did to these people and to their families. I want you to understand without any confusion the consequences of your actions. You have murdered innocent scholars in cold blood while they slept.

For what, Padrin? Was it worth it?


((Copied from elsewhere to maintain plot continuity))

[Pedantry INC]

At the academy an obviously furious Mirrir makes it clear that no student or teacher is given leave to return to the swamp site until she states otherwise, and that if any Master deigns to question that expectation, they are welcome to come and speak with her.

She takes a copy of all students lost and harmed in the incident, ensuring that all names and ages are listed.

[Syd's Blue Sky]

A simple message is posted in the academy.

Activities in the Marsh of Tun are canceled until further notice. This is not a time for vengeance, but a time to grieve for the lost friends we knew and loved.

I take full responsibility for my failure to protect our family.

Card

[Pandora]

Deep in the distant reaches of the Tun, another convoy of wagons, marchers and riders roll into the clearing which was once a base camp. The remainder of the day is full of noise and activity as the new arrivals set up accommodation and establish security.

Splitting into smaller groups, a flurry of activity ensues. Riders dismount, tending to horses before turning to other tasks. Wagons roll in. Some are parked for easy access and their contents unloaded, others are left with their covers securely tied down and contents hidden from view. Here and there people in charge issue orders and direct activity. Tents are pitched and furniture moved in.  Gradually a neat orderly camp begins to form in the swirl of activity.

Some men and women are dispatched to set up picket lines while others wearing the uniform of the Purple Dragon Army patrol the area in small groups.

Over the next few days the camp becomes settled and established. More patrols are sent out and searches of the area commence. Any remnants of the previous expedition are flagged and then carefully collected or excavated from the surrounds before being carried back to a large tent in the centre of the main camp.

[MechaMistress]

Ang'nuavia would quietly walk the swamps near the old base camp settlement. She had teleported alone, and kept to herself as she returned to a site of great tragedy. One could assume she came to pay respects and reflect upon what had happened. When she arrived at the outskirts of the camp, Angy was surprised to see a flurry of activity. She looked lost, and confused, having no knowledge of the current state of affairs. She had heard no news from the Alizarin that the dig site was operational.

Ang'nuavia would make herself easily seen to anyone occupying the camp. She waved her arms frantically as she tried to gain their attention. She wore a friendly smile, and tapped on a broach bearing the symbol of the Alizarin Academy. 

[Syd's Blue Sky]

25 Tarsakh, 1379

Alizarin Representatives: Card, Ang'nuavia, Alaethyl.
Additional Scholarly: Siyl
RCMH Escort: Kori, Dreshae
Miscellaneous: Sabel

Primary objectives were not accomplished. An absolute and devastating failure.

First... the good news. The decision to bring Siyl into the operation proved to be a good one. Invaluable, really. She was in her element, and more than useful enough that I can forgive her obvious preference of scaled beings over her human companions. Dreshae proved to be capable as well. She was able to stay on task and be genuinely helpful. She only went off on one tangent about duty, law, her role and... I guess I wasn't listening very well. The buzzing of the insects made it difficult to focus, if anyone asks. Additionally, we were able to find lizardfolk and we were able to make contact. No casualties.

Now for everything else. The kukri turned out to be a sacred blade, which seemed at first that it would bode well for out negotiations. This, however, was quickly found to be less than true. We had already established a conversation with them before the blade was produced and shown. It seemed to do little beyond irritate them, despite the fact that we gave it to them freely as a gift. In this, Ang'nuavia's worst fears were confirmed. The blade is lost, and I fear it is for nothing.

The lizardfolk shaman that decided to briefly suffer our questions left us with frustration beyond bounds. We learned nothing. We did not learn the origin of the ruins, and we did not learn the origin of the glyphs. We did not learn reasons for the medusa presence. We did not learn why they had hags. We did not learn anything beyond that the lizardfolk believe these topics to be none of our concern. On the subject of ruins and glyphs, they cite Netheril as being our lineage, and they draw analogy to these ruins and glyphs as being theirs. Attempts to meet with a being more willing to engage in productive conversation met with failure. Rather, they deflected our queries with what I believe to be a distraction to get us out of their swamp. A dragon, a bronze, many days travel to the South. The directions stunk of a destination that didn't exist, which let me to attempt an alternative sufficient tribute. This was flatly rebuked.

I admit to great frustration... I had held out perhaps too much hope for the expedition after seven months of planning and work without results. I'm well aware that I've made this my Alizarin pet project, and I'm becoming distinctly aware that it is very likely to be my undoing. Over budget, behind schedule, unnecessarily dangerous work that had done absolutely nothing but kill our students and leave the public with an inexplicable new nickname, Alizarin Academy of the Dark Arts. Unmitigated disaster in ever possible way does not begin. The effort has been... profound. The results simply do not exist. I worry for my future in the college.

As before, spoils, totaling around six thousand lions, have been given to Shoeman to be reinvested into the project.

Now to begin the search for a dragon that probably doesn't even exist. I suppose there are worse ways to spend my time.