Are you a fan of sinners and saints? Good, because you’ll get at least one of each this week…..possibly more. Join us this week as our adventurers end up in an evil carnival. If you can’t guess what this place was called, I truly feel for you. My name is Kent. I am the guy that hosts this blog on my site and make inane comments that you skip so you can to the good stuff. Still, given this week’s theme of saints and creepy carnivals, I decided to go with this song and this video because I love this video.
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Tomb of Annihilation
Chapter 8 – Requiem for Lyn
Many years prior to the appearance of the Death Curse, former Plunderbund members (DM’s Note: In a different campaign prior to the creation of this blog) confronted the dread vampire lord Strahd Von Zarovich in the Ravenloft domain of Barovia. Earlier in the evening, that group had met the ghost of Sergi, brother of Strahd, who begged the group not to destroy his vampire brother, as that could result in the destruction of the demi-plane of Ravenloft, freeing the numerous evil beings previously trapped by the Dark Powers. Despite this warning, the party slew Strahd.
Upon Strahd being defeated, the demi-plane of Ravenloft did, indeed, unravel. To this day it is unknown what happened to the adventurers. What is known is that the Icon of Ravenloft fell through the mists and across numerous planes of existence until it landed in the jungles of Chult, where it was promptly eaten by a giant turtle. The Dark Powers, which still existed despite the loss of their beloved demi-plane, sought to find the Icon in the hopes of reforming their former home. Unfortunately, the fact the Icon rested within a living being shielded the artifact from detection.
The Icon laid, safe and protected, within the stomach of the giant turtle for many years (decades? centuries?), until the turtle picked the wrong meal. As Compassion thrust his lance deep into the turtle’s back, the life shield that had protected the Icon for so long was gone, and the Dark Powers quickly located their lost treasure. As the group parked their canoes and set up camp for the night, the (former) mists of Ravenloft rolled in to collect the Icon, and in doing so also swept up the adventurers.
With the Icon in their possession, the Dark Powers decided that it was time to reform the demi-plane of Ravenloft. But before bringing back the classic domains, the Dark Powers decided on a trial run. So, to thank the party for their assistance in finding the Icon of Ravenloft, the Dark Powers created a new domain, a tiny island of terror known as Carn-Evil, and deposited the group there to see how they would fair.
As they party awoke the next morning they found that they were no longer in the jungles of Chult, but were in a dark and foreboding forest. Finding their way to the small town of Hillpicket, the party learned that there was a potentially evil carnival rolling into town. Assuming whatever evil permeated the carnival was the same evil that brought them here, the group set out to investigate.
Below is the story of Ethylwynn’s final day as a companion to Hertz, Compassion, Tempest, and Xilix, as told by Ethyl herself (DM’s Note: Most of the following was written by Ethyl’s player through her eyes; any grammatical mistakes and bad story telling is totally not on me).
Tales From The Plunderbund presents…..
The Life of Saint Ethylwynn
While investigating a routine disturbing-carnival-related disturbance, Ethylwynn Devir of House Erelhi-Cinlu had her retinue of retainers find the culprits responsible. While their names are not important, the retainers were an elf of some kind, a cleric of Talos, a hellspawn demon, and a tempestuous creature of indeterminate age and erratic attendance. They were all invited to attend the carnival, which was visiting the godforsaken rat-hole of Hillpicket.
Because most of the Hillpicketeers had little more than rats in abundance, rats figured prominently in the entertainments. There were fools teaching rats to dance, fools biting the heads off of rats, and rats ratting fools with rats rats rats. But mostly there were fools.
What is a fool? Apparently a dude with a faceless featureless mask that follows you around and tries to kill you when nobody is watching. Maybe they didn’t like how the drow inserted herself into their performance with her own, impromptu, stirring falsetto rendition of Vesti la Giubba? No matter. Ethylwynn did not suffer fools to live. Nevertheless, their assault did leave the party exhausted, and the plucky drow sorceress had to blow her load. In every sense. (DM’s note: No, only in the sense that Ethyl wasted all of her spell slots on the first encounter of the day).
Having defeated a surprise attack of fools, our drow investigator began to search for clues at the carnival of what might have prompted their murderous rampage. All signs pointed down, to the town well. Down went Ethylwynn, down to the bottom of the well with naught but a rope tied to her leg. Crack, crack went her head as she slammed her considerable bulk into its floor. Removing the sack of her girth required no less than three horses with bit, bridle and harness to hoist her out.
Safe and sound, she proceeded to the obvious mirror maze right in the center of everything and good god how hard is it to just go on to the next encounter? Does everything have to be a detour? Gosh, you guys are impossible! It says you’re supposed to run this thing in two hours! Two hours! Goddammit, we’re gonna have to pick this up next week.
Alright, we have to really speed through this you guys. Ethylwynn’s load being blown, the party was careful to make sure and resolve every issue with talking, rather than stabbing. Thankfully, the first encounter of the evening involved naught but a mirrored maze. It was at this point that the hellspawn that assists Ethylwynn sometimes spoke up, and mentioned that one Doctor Jubal ran the carnival and that there was some strange disease afflicting the locals. He also had the brilliant idea of bringing dirt into the maze and spreading it about like so much manure. He claimed it would help us find our way, but in the end, the maze cleaned up any effort he made. Then, we began to see traces of the mud in places where we had not been. Still, it was a good idea, and I suppose he made a valiant effort at spreading manure.
The mirrors then began to reflect a disturbing reality. While the others were plagued by visions of themselves, Ethylwynn saw another creature: the creature she would have been if she had lived in the kingdom of “Nynteen Fiftees”; a horrid land where all females are bonded domestic servants, and all men insufferable pigs. The prospect seemed insane and uncomfortable: Lynn much preferred it the other way around. When she came to from this vision, fresh horrors wrought their vengeance upon her countenance: chained to the floor were the pathetic Hillpicketeers being drained of their mojo.
Fully cognizant that mojo draining is *her* domain and what right to these cucks have to step on her turf anyway, Ethylwynn tried to do everything that she could to resolve the issue violently. Then she remembered she had blown her load (DM’s note: Spell Load). Oddly enough, her compatriots went through the same train of thought, only at this point one of them was already face down in the muck. One of the chained up Hillpicketeers turned out to be a doppelganger, and the elf, afflicted by madness, had lost the gift of magic and speech. (DM’s note: Unknown to the party, this doppelganger was actually the Darklord of Carn-Evil, Manny Guises.)
Knowing that this could be a tough fight, Ethylwynn ground her teeth and set her stance, ready to do battle. Then the doppelganger called his fools. The cleric of Talos (DM’s Note: Isn’t Hertz just the best) was unbent, claiming that he had plenty of miracles left to cast and this rabble would be cast down momentarily. Then the fools called in rats. Despite some deft maneuvering, the party was outnumbered.
After vainly attempting to pour a potion down the elf’s throat as he was being devoured by rats, Lynn considered that the next dawn might find her in two hundred and thirty seven different stomachs, and so she briefly considered parley. That was when the cleric of Talos fell while protesting that he still had miracles remaining and that it was just all bad luck. Immediately discarding thoughts of discussion with the murderous horde, Lynn fell with new fervor into casting elemental fires to tame the fury of the onslaught.
Soon, standing over the fallen remains of the hellspawn thing, she considered that sacrificing herself for the good of the party might give her a shot at sainthood. Hell, they might even start a religion around her.
Figuring, f*** it (DM’s note: Gosh darn it Ethyl this is a family blog), it was worth a shot, and you don’t always get a chance to gain rabid followers, Lynn thrust her ample mass upon the enemy, smothering them in her rolls of dough. Pierced by their swords, her death was assured, even as the rest of the party came to and saw the significant fleshy load of the drow’s grossly corporeal form astride the hapless fool. Once again, three powerful horses were needed to remove the obstruction that Ethylwynn’s body represented. The next morning she began to smell, but not with the stench of death. For behold, her selfless act had granted Ethylwynn Devir of House Erelhi Cinlu the mantle of sainthood and the heavenly smell of nutmeg farts.
[End of Ethyl’s player giving it his best, back to your regular narrator but talking from Ethyl’s perspective]
Not only was I a saint, and not only did I have followers, but I was even granted new life. One morning I simply awoke in a soft, fluffy bed and into a new life; and this new life was good. I had all the food I could eat, servants aplenty, my own castle, and the admiration of my hundreds of worshipers.
As the days went on, however, I began to question my good fortune. Wanting to know what truly happened in my final moments, I took up my adventuring gear and headed out, determined to find my former compatriots. It was my intention to congratulate them on breaking the Death Curse, which they surely must have done since I was back from the dead.
My path took me through an oddly familiar looking forest, and into an embankment of thick white mist. After walking through the mists for what felt like hours, strange voices began speaking in my head. The voices told me that while they had sent my companions back, they had exciting plans for me.
As I was a fundamentally evil person who nonetheless sacrificed her life for her companions, these voices felt that I deserved a reward. The voices explained that because I had killed the Darklord of the domain formerly known as Carn-Evil, they had resurrected me and awarded me leadership of the domain. I was told to name the land whatever I liked and rule as I liked. But they told me to know one thing. I am cursed. Cursed to one day be slain by the very compatriots I had once saved. They will come to my domain, see me as a monster, and seek to destroy me, my followers, and everything I build from now until these voices decide to bring the people I died for into my new home.
I am sinner, I am saint, I am the Darklord Ethylwynn Devir of House Erelhi-Cinlu, and I’ll be waiting for you my friends.
(DM’s note: Ethyl’s player forgot to include the fact that, to no one’s surprise, Gryff III died during the final battle. The Dark Powers turned Gryff III into a dragon mount for Darklord Ethyl. Gryff III looks forward to one day getting revenge on Xilix by eating him alive from the legs up.)
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Okay, the chapter has the word requiem in it and that compels me to think of one film, one of the best films I have ever seen and is somewhere in my top 20, possibly top 10. Requiem For A Dream is a haunting film, but it is so damn good, so enjoy the music and if you haven’t seen it, just watch it alone perhaps, not with your mom, ya know, because I did that. It was weird.
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