Fiddlemore Whidix

Fiddlemore Wihdix was a character played by Tropingenie. He first appeared in Kursed Katana. He was a tiefling wizard, who used disguises and magic to pass as human [1].

## Backstory

### Pre-Campaign

Once upon a time there was a human man. Then, he was enchanted by a succubus. Now, perhaps a human male might have… no, no. What happened was exactly to be expected from the centuries-old succubus. But the man himself was also a demon hunter, and after finishing her “meal,” the succubus found herself at the tip of his sword—his blade, rather.
“Unhand me, fair beast!”

“Um, we already did it though. Also, isn’t it ‘foul beast?’ ”

“Nay! For a maiden as fair as you, I could never use the word foul!”

“Well aren’t you a straightforward fellow. Still, what do you think you can do to stop me? I’ve just finished draining your essence, and physical attacks won’t work on me.”

“Ohoho, you fool. Now that we’ve done it, neither of us can get married!”

“...Ok? It was in a dream though. It didn’t actually, like, have sex with you.”

The hunter’s face fell.

“Oh… But still! Marry me!”

“That’s not my first offer, you know. And not the last that I’ll refuse. Even if I had any interest in you, the lifespan of a pure demon is waaaay longer than a human’s.”

Thus started the young man’s pursuit down a terrible path. For the next 20 years of his life, he dedicated himself to hunting succubi. He was a hero, called upon whenever a lascivious threat appeared. A master at the one task that was his life’s work. And, finally, he found her. The one demon he had sworn never to slay.

“You! Long have I awaited this day!”

“So, you’ve got me, o slayer of succubi. What will you do now?”

Her beautiful features were twisted with hatred as she clutched her bleeding shoulder. He placed the tip of his magic sword against her neck.

“You have evaded me for far too long, succubus. Now that I have finally found you, I will never let you escape again.”

The succubus grit her teeth, expecting the worst. The hunter had hired a wizard to plane-lock her, so there truly was no way for her to escape. She closed her eyes, expecting the worst.

“Marry me.”

She opened her eyes. The rather good-looking 52-year-old man had taken a knee, and in his hand was a small box.

“The most binding chains I could think of were these, Miss Succubus.”

“The chains of… marriage?”

She hesitantly extended her hand to him, and he slipped the ring on.

“You know I’m a succubus, right? I’ll, like, see other men. Are you fine with that?”

The hunter grinned and gave her a huge thumbs up.

“It’s fine! I prefer to watch anyway!”

As realization dawned on the succubus, she realized just the sort of contract she had just entered… and that the “engagement ring” was cursed.

Years passed before she found the true nature of the curse. Her first husband died, only to quickly be replaced by another. Then another. Each of them she treated kindly, as a wife should.

This cursed ring is scary…

Every time she was free, another man would propose to her. And she found that she could never refuse them, or their “special interests.” Fortunately for her, and perhaps the world, the individuals she met were rarely interested in procreation—upon marriage to a succubus, their minds immediately turned to pleasure.

When the number of husbands she’d had was too many to count, she had a son. It was her first time having a child, and she found herself—for the first time in centuries—at a loss of what to do. The curse drove her to be a stay at home mother, yet she had no idea how to parent. Especially since her son was clearly not a human.

The father was disgusted by the appearance of the child, and he demanded they abandon it. For the succubus, who knew little of love, it seemed like a reasonable action. She banished her own son to the first circle of Hell, Avernus. Only after having her daughter, decades later, did she realize what horrible thing she had done. She taught her daughter well, and gave her a task: tell your brother that mother apologizes.

The son was raised amongst demons, blood, and fire, yet his encounter with the occasional traveler led him to understand there was more to the worlds than preparing for a war with the devils. And the human side of him craved relief from the living hell. Eventually, he learned basic magic to sooth his burned flesh: ice magic.

It was in the fiery hellscape, surrounded by a settlement of frost and ice, that a wandering adventurer found the child. Long driven away were the fiends that raised him, and he now eked out a living on his own. This traveler took note of the boy’s curled horns and thin tail, yet apart from that, the boy appeared purely human. He couldn’t bring himself to leave the soul in hell.

He resolved to take that boy with him on his journey.

“Hello there,”

The boy jerked away from him, snarling in the guttural language of the devils.

“Asih, bitc!”

The adventurer chuckled.

“Guess it’s a bit much to expect you to know Common. Err, my Infernal is a bit rusty, but…”

He changed languages.

“I am friendly. My name is Sylt. Do you have name?”

The boy cocked his head at the adventurer.

“You are… not a devil? Are you a demon then?”

“No. Human.”

“...human? What is a human?”

“Are not you human? You not look like other devil-demon.”

“I am… human? I do not know what I look like. But I am not like other devils or demons.”

“Then you human. Human get along. I help you get to human world.”

“This is not my world? Well, it is very hot here. But I know magic to help with that.”

“I magic too. Lots of magic. If you follow, you learn magic too!”

“Magic is good. Yes. Then…”

“Do you have name?”

At the time, the young boy didn’t. But over the course of their journey, eventually the boy began calling himself “Fiddlemore.” The adventurer, who was actually an elf, began giving Fiddlemore a formal education in magic, and the human language. Shortly after they joined, they parted ways once more. The young boy had learned enough to live amongst humans.

Yet the elf failed to realize his mistake. In not knowing the word for “elf” in infernal, the adventurer had referred to all races as “human.” So, when he taught Fiddlemore the common tongue, the now-fledgling-wizard failed to comprehend its proper meaning.

The boy ventured out into Fithy, eager to learn magic. He quickly leared how harsh society was on Tieflings, shunning them as demon-spawn and the like. Making his way into the city, he fell into the tougher crowds, who taught him how to survive. Yet he held onto the glimmer of hope the elven traveler had given him. The teachings that had been imparted on him.

Yes, the being shunned as an evil monstrosity wanted to do good. It was a shame that circumstances forced upon him a life of crime. After being taught to do good in Hell, he was taught to do evil in Heaven.

But eventually, even that came to an end. The once-young man, who swindled the rich out of their coin through his eager words and vibrant prose, was aging. His voice was failing him, as was his body. When the place he called home—a den of thieves—was raided, he managed to pass as an old beggar, and was let be. Even the person whom he regarded as a mentor had been captured.

So the now old man took the advice his mentor had given him. Fiddlemore’s years as a charlatan had not been for naught: in that time, his passion for magic had continued to burn. While he swore off any magic to do with fire, he had focused on those which were useful to him. With what little skills he had, he fled the city at long last.

Despite never looking back, he had to thank his mentor for giving him the suggestion that finally brought happiness to the old wizard’s life. For years, he focused on amassing magical knowledge. He conned his way into colleges, scraping by to purchase suitable props. He delved into long-empty ruins, deciphering demonic runes. And there came a day he had a revelation: he was an adventurer.

Though perpetually short on coin, he found that his parlour tricks were more than enough to earn a few meals. He found himself frequenting the bars of small villages. He found himself preferring to not stay in one place for very long. His old habits from the first circle of Hell were coming back to him.

 And eventually, the old man found a place for himself. Hiding his nature had long-been ingrained into him, yet perhaps someday he would reveal his secret to those close companions. Or, at his ripe age, he may well take the secret to the grave.

### Post-Kursed Katana

Following the events of Kursed Katana, Fiddlemore continued his wanderings. After coming across and agreeing with them, he began following the teachings of Athys, Goddess of the Winter Wind. Studying the ways of the clerics of Athys, he was given the task to purify the shrine to the nature gods entombed in the barrows of the Kolgrimmr Dynasty.
After trawling through his connections, through both the church and in the city, Fiddlemore was hired as one guard amongst many in a caravan to Pjolt. After about a month's travel, the caravan reached the border town. It was then that Fiddlemore found himself among a motley crew of adventurers who stayed behind after the caravan left. There were even a few that he had quested with before: Turtillous Jimbis, and Sam Norman.

## Character

### Appearance

Fiddlemore is descended from a
succubus. Thus, while he looks mostly
human, his fading blue hair is accented
by curling ram's horns. On his back are
undersized, feathery wings. From his
tailbone protrudes a long, thin tail tipped
with a spade. His eyes are completely
silver.

He covers all this with flowing robes and
wraps, using thaumaturgy to make his
eyes seem human. His skin is fair for a
Tiefling, but fairly reddish for a human.
However, Fiddlemore uses the wraps
and wears gloves to hide his skin, so
even that is rarely an issue. Being
raised in hell, he never has issues with
the heat from wearing so much clothing.

### Personality

"Raised" in the harsh environment of Avernus, Fiddlemore's personality is comparatively peaceful--a testament to his mentor's teachings. His alignment is Chaotic Good. While he values his own life above any other, he seeks to atone for his nonexistent sins.

Fiddlemore is interested in magic, to the point of obsession. The few spells he learned from the forgotten tomes he could scrounge up were able to ease the burden of life in hell, and grant him comfort for the first time in his life. Magic, also, was what let him escape from Avernus to Pthfnder. Consequently, he associated knowledge of magic with safety and comfort.

Fiddlemore is fairly pious. While he worships Athys specifically, he respects each of the gods in the pantheon equally. As a Tiefling, he feels resent for himself and the rest of his race, though he equally holds curiosity on how the others of said race conduct themselves.

Others describe Fiddlemore as gruff, and blunt. The way he conducts himself is indeed quite brusque, and tends to rub people the wrong way despite his good intentions.

## Campaign

### Kursed Katana

#### Session 1

Fiddlemore, the wandering mage, came across the monastery towards the end of the day, and asked to stay the night. They agreed, but in the morning the monks demanded he assist with their quest.

While being poled across the lake, Fiddlemore looked ahead to their destination. He introduced himself to Natsume after she left fox form, and they conversed briefly. After hearing that Turtilous and Sam were in their mid-30s, Fiddlemore commented on how old they seemed--despite him being clearly much older than them [1]. After being asked where he was from by Turtilous, he claimed he was from Pthfnder despite being a native Fithian.

After hearing the Ashblade name, Fiddlemore denied knowledge of that family. He claimed to have little knowledge of the Ashblades while attempting to join the conversation. He commented on how long-lived Kitsune were, bringing up the question of how old Natsume was.

"Oh, we've arrived," commented Fiddlemore as the boat bumped against the dock. He looked into the darkness, seeing clearly. "Ah, it's times like these I wish I had the light cantrip," he said, to appear more human. Fiddlemore lit a torch using the boat's lantern. He apologized in advance for having to drop the torch in battle, causing Natsume to cast what she called "Fox Fire" [2].

They continued without incident down the path, to the cabin in the clearing. Seeing Turtilous peeking into windows, Fiddlemore banged on the door. He greeted the wizened elf that answered, then placed his torch in a sconce before entering. As Musei went to finish preparing the tea, Fiddlemore sat with the rest of the party. When Musei sat down, asking about the sword, Fiddlemore quickly asked if he possessed any tomes. Musei said he only had poetry, to which Fiddlemore said he might read later.

After Sam read through what he thought was poetry, Musei mentioned they were fliers, not poetry. He pulled out a "Future Shop" flier, which Fiddlemore asked for and was given. He planned to study it later.

As the rest of the part continued to read through fliers, Fiddlemore mentioned they should take less of their "precious client's precious time." He listened raptly as Musei spoke about the sword. "Truly a mysterious curse."

Hearing Turtilous mention he was going to speak to someone unseen, Fiddlemore mentioned to Natsume it might be a demon. He began the ritual to cast Detect Magic. He then remembered he had the "Identify" spell, and asked for the sword. He then began the ritual for the other spell.

Musei escorted Fiddlemore into the Japanese rock garden, and he used a large slab of slate for the ritual. Halfway through, Fiddlemore realised he was missing some key components for the ritual. He went back to casting Detect Magic, which was a far simpler ritual. He finished casting long after Turtilous' patron left, detecting binding and abjuration from the sword.

"He can only trade his own soul at worst," commented Fiddlemore about Turtilous. he had a conversation about the benefits of making deals with otherworldly forces, complaining that he had to study for 30 years before he could use magic.

The party spent the night at Musei's cabin, and had breakfast there. Fiddlemore tried to make breakfast, using bat's wing and asparagus. He got a little excited about the fire, fighting Turtilous about the composition of the stew. "It's a delicacy where I'm from!" shouted Fiddlemore as Turtillous threw out the first stew. The second stew, they got in a fight over, with thew flying at Fiddlemore, and Fiddlemore casting shield and Ray of Frost to defend. After Musei shouted at them, both agreed to clean up and take the fight outside.

They walked a ways into the forest, and had a mage battle.

Turtilous shot lightning at Fiddlemore, knocking him unconscious [3]. "He who fires first... wins."

Smoke curled from his chest as Turtilous dragged him back to the cabin. As Turtilous began CPR, blood sprayed from Fiddlemore's mouth. As Musei took his pulse, he determined Fiddlemore was dead. After hearing Turtillous' explanation, Musei attributed Fiddlemore's death to the sword's curse.

After a while, and possibly some 'work' on Turtilous' part, Fiddlemore "awoke."

"Holy shit, ya got me good. Guess you're the stronger mage."

Seeing the gold coins Sam left, Fiddlemore quickly swiped them. After being bandaged, he looked in a mirror. He saw Musei in the background, and his body further back. After being asked to, he handed the mirror to Turtilous. After Turtilous walked over to Musei's corpse, Fiddlemore asked a question.

"Ya want me to cast detect magic or something, or should we go after the other guys?"

"Well, that'll take 10 minutes, so let's just go."

"Yeah, let's just go."

After traveling for a while, the pair reached the end of the path and stepped onto a rickety boardwalk across a swamp.

"Are you sure we went the right way?"

"I'm not sure, I thought you were keeping track of that."

"We're just following the path, this is the path right?"

They agreed that Fiddlemore should cross the boardwalk first, since it was rather rotten. Using Thaumaturgy, he shouted for the other half of the group to wait up [4]. Reaching the broken part of the boardwalk, Fiddlemore realized he could just freeze the bog. They continued across with this new method of travel, which slightly increased their rate of travel. They half-skated along, quickly catching up to Sam, then passing him.

Reaching Natsume, both mages thrust their staves into the water, starting to pull the now-Kitsune form girl out of the water. Fiddlemore tried to patch the leg by restricting the power of Ray of Frost; upon hearing Natsume say "cut it off," he hit her leg at full power. Her leg froze quickly, and snapped off.

After Natsume passed out, Fiddlemore began firing at the zombie. He caught the lady in the face, freezing her skull in place, with an icicle spiked into her mouth. They could hear her tongue rasping around it. Turtilous passed Natsume to Fiddlemore so he could attack, and Turtilous' attack caused the lady to sink back into the water. Fiddlemore passed Natsume back.

As Turtilous attempted to tie a tourniquet, Fiddlemore cast Prestidigitation to clean the wound. After Turtilous' mess of a tourniquet, Fiddlemore retied it, using Turtilous' spear [5].

"I've had to tie one of these before."

Turtilous princess carried Natsume, while Fiddlemore continued freezing the bog.

#### Session 2

After Turtillous sunk into the bog ominously, Fiddlemore cited the curse of the katana. Fiddlemore complained to Sam, who suggested they climb back onto the boardwalk, claiming wizards didn't climb, nor were thrown. Apparently, they flew, though Fiddlemore didn't have the spell prepared. Wheezing, Fiddlemore followed Sam, climbing onto the boardwalk.

Reaching the pagoda, Fiddlemore suggested they take a long rest and search for something to help Natsume with. After looking around for a while, Fiddlemore found an "Arithmea's Balm" at the edge of the bog. It was an herb that disinfected wounds and sped up natural healing. "I found soap. Unrefined soap."

"So animal fat."

"No. It's a plant-based soap."

He discussed with Sam how to apply the herb to the wound, then they split up to set up camp. Sam made the fire, while Fiddlemore surrounded the pagoda with the Alarm spell.

After setting up camp, they continued to discuss how to apply the herb. Fiddlemore had boiled it into a sort of "tea." Sam unbound Natsume's wound, Fiddlemore cleaned them, then Sam soaked the rags in the herbal water. Then, they rebound the wound.

They settled in for the night.

In the morning, Natsume was awake. Fiddlemore told her about how he cut her leg off. Later, Fiddlemore knocked some Yew berries off of the tree nearby. Together, they determined the berries were inedible.

Natsume commissioned Fiddlemore to make a prosthetic leg for her. After Sam brought over the barrel, Fiddlemore insisted they use the metal parts to make Natsume's prosthetic leg. After the opened the barrel, Fiddlemore introduced himself to Mortimer the gnome, then rolled the barrel into the pagoda. He finished up the prosthetic leg.

"This turned out a lot better than expected." [6]

After the gnome suggested he would stick with the party, Sam and Fiddlemore turned him down. Fiddlemore casually mentioned how Turtillous used Musei's life to atone for his own, scaring Mortimer off.

To find the well of power, Fiddlemore cast detect magic to get a feel of the general flow of magic in the area. They continued towards where the magic appeared to be strongest, back out into the bog. Seeing Musei and Turtillous reflected in the water, Fiddlemore said "Don't look at the lights." He cast Minor Illusion to mask the ghostly reflections, and the party continued walking, freezing a bridge across the bog.

They came across a tree with a skeleton tied to it. Fiddlemore took not of the snake.

"It looks poisonous, let's go around it."

Then the snake spoke, and they had a relatively unproductive conversation with it. After asking if the snake spoke Infernal, he responded in that language. Natsume and Fiddlemore both claimed he was still speaking common [7]. They convinced the snake that Infernal had become the common tongue. The snake introduced itsself as Ssmalkis after being convinced by Natsume's bag of mice.

Fiddlemore took a moment to recast Detect Magic, then the party continued to head towards the well of power. They entered some light woodland. Upon Natsume discovering a pixie, Fiddlemore began to take measures to capture it. He began sneaking up behind the pixie.

After the pixie polymorphed Natsume into a butterfly, Ssmalkis slithered over to Fiddlemore. Upon seeing this, Fiddlemore decided against capturing the fairy. Fiddlemore snatched up the butterfly into his bag [8].

"I caught the magic butterfly! Sam, get the rope!"

They continued along, Fiddlemore collecting the sparkling dust spilling from his sack. Reaching the cave, Fiddlemore passed Sam the sack and began preparing to cast Detect Magic again.

Entering the cave, Fiddlemore began changing the colours of Sam's torch. After Natsume began shouting in Common, Fiddlemore let her out of the bag, claiming he thought it was teleportation magic that swapped him with a butterfly.

Reaching the gnome shrine, Fiddlemore knelt to pray.

"Eh? Eh ya hoser, what's up?"

"We got a sword, you want it?"

"What kinda sword is it?"

The guardian of the well of power began speaking to them. Fiddlemore got permission to draw with chalk, and began casting Detect Magic again. After the spell was cast, they began discussing how they were going to get the spell into the well.

Natsume tried to negotiate her way through the door, which didn't work, and they were given a trial to complete. The trial was to get the gold from a hole that has an arm-chopping trap. If only one person was alive in the area, the trap would deactivate.

After complaining that the test was simply to see if the mage had the required basic spells, Fiddlemore used minor illusion to create the gold and fake grabbing it from the hole, surprising the guardian gnome [9]. Eventually, he agreed to let them in.

Entering the well of power, Sam tossed the sword into it. To get it out, Fiddlemore mentioned he was close to finishing research on a spell that might help, so they took a long break. Fiddlemore was experimenting, attempting to finish researching a few new spells. He dipped his chalk into the well, accidentally creating a rainbow troll, then immediately dispelling it.

Fiddlemore then examined the weapons that had been dipped in the well, determining all their properties [10]. After that, Fiddlemore used normal chalk to cast Unseen Servant, having it retrieve the katana's sheath. He then had the servant pick him up. He also had the servant retrieve the coin Sam had tossed into the trap, though the coin was shredded into dust.

The party began returning to the Monastery. They decided to walk around the edge of the island, rather than crossing the bog again. Once the dock was in sight, Mortimer stumbled out of the forest nearby.

"Oh Mortimer! Nice to meet you again. How've you been?"

A half-hour later, the boat returned to take them off the island. They piled on, and headed back to the monastery. They received their 200gp reward, and Fiddlemore had the monks "replace" the coin that had been turned into dust [11].

[12]

Leaving the monastery, they eventually came across the Swonky Pig tavern. Fiddlemore pre-paid a gold coin, and began downing hot sake and appetizers. Eventually, a halfling named Lysander approached them, asking if they wanted work. Fiddlemore cleaned the alcohol from his blood to sober up and listen to the proposal.

It was a job for an expedition. Lysander and the party had a discussion about magic, prefacing the goal of the expedition. When Shapsar was brought up, Fiddlemore suggested they speak a different language. They switched to speaking "New Common" [13], and changed locales.

Lysander then explained Shapsar to them, as well as the introduction of "Magical Cocaine" to Pthfnder and its effect on magic. Through the conversation, they eventually settled on calling "Magical Cocaine" "Dust," since Lysander disliked calling it cocaine.

Lysander began explaining the various "Dust" impact sites across the planet.

#### Session 3 [12]

Eventually, Lysander explained that the goal was to travel to URealms, and mine Magical Cocaine. The adventurers' job was to ensure the plan was executed without a hitch.

Fiddlemore was concerned at how speculative the prospects sounded, but upon hearing there was a chance to gain artifacts and explore he was on board. The quest sounded more and more like a full-time job, but Lysander said he could leave once the mine was set up, allaying his concerns.

The party decided to meet Lysander at his cart in the morning. After the meeting ended, they returned to the inn's common room, and Fiddlemore asked if Michael could show him magic. Michael mentioned he could talk to animals, so Fiddlemore brought out Ssmalkis. Michael explained that he needed a non-intelligent creature to show off his spell.

Sam volunteered his shield, and Fiddlemore took notes as Michael ritual cast his spell.

Fiddlemore asked if Michael had any spells from the wizard schools, and the two of them left to compare another spell: Fog Cloud. However, it still had traces of the natural magic of Rangers and Druids, so Fiddlemore would need to attune himself to Michael's magic--in other words, his blood.

Eventually, Michael caved and offered his blood for a favour. Somehow, they got to the topic that, since Fiddlemore was over 86, he wasn't human. Fiddlemore went out to gather sap, according to the manual "Ranger Spells for Wizards."
Later that night, while studying magic, Fiddlemore heard the chant of "man flesh" carried over on the wind. The guttural tones he recognized as coming from dwarves.
"We should at least get ready."
Fiddlemore helped Sam don his armour, and they met up with Natsume at the edge of town.

As they stepped outside, the sounds of frenzied screams of dwarves filled the air of the peaceful Chinese village.
Fiddlemore cast Disguise self, turning into Natsume's "Aunt Patricia," an attractive 20-year-old woman.
Encountering the dwarves, they mistook "him" for a witch, and began chasing him. He got caught into a boar stampede, dodging spikes, fangs, tusks and hooves. He leapt over a singular hedgehog, and continued to run.
He ducked behind a tree, and returned to a normal form. Unfortunately, the dwarves saw through his lies and the chase continued. Fiddlemore summoned an illusion of himself to run alongside him, and the dwarves slowed down enough that Fiddlemore maintained his lead.
Running through a patch of brambles, the dwarves began to gain on him. When the dwarves mentioned killing him with fire, a single thought flew through Fiddlemore's head: "Keikaku doori-des."
Running circles around the town, Fiddlemore heard a strange wail, and saw Ghandi descending from the heavens with a metal object [14].
"So... these are the endtimes."
Fiddlemore mounted Lysander's carriage, and began preparing to leave. As soon as the cart could move, Fiddlemore set out, driving.
Seeing Ghandi take chase, Fiddlemore and Lysander switched out. Fiddlemore began icing up the road while the rest of his party began laying caltrops and firing crossbows at the withered old man.

Fiddlemore continued to lay down ice as Ghandi was replaced by a clone of Ronnoc. She quickly jumped into the carriage, and after a brief conversation decided that her targets were both Lysander and Fiddlemore. Upon failing to attack Fiddlemore, he dove out of the carriage, and tossed Lysander hoping to overturn the carriage.

Casting shield to soften his landing, Fiddlemore slid through the muck to a safe stop. He ran off into the forest.

Hearing Pip's offer, Fiddlemore paused. He considered returning, bus since he couldn't trust the Shapsar wizard so he stayed at a distance, observing. He began preparing spells, using the brief respite to his advantage. After Pip dropped three fortune cookies, and the ground began rumbling again, Fiddlemore took off now with his spells prepared.

Despite the distance, a beam of light from one of Pip's fortune cookies his Fiddlemore. The ground below him collapsed in a gout of fire. Blackness filled his vision...

And he awoke in a cart, with his hands bound.

"Ah, so you're finally awake." [15]

### Barrows of the Kolgrimmr

#### Session 1

The party reached the Kolgrimmr Barrows, an ancient dwarven stronghold and burial ground in the mess of swamp and forest near Pjolt. They could see a pyramid-shaped stele nearby, demarcating the territory of the Kolgrimmr.

Same mentioned the entrance would be near the trading grounds mentioned on the stele, so the group began moving to the East.

“Oh, there’s the road.” [16]

“Impressive,” replied Wren.

Fiddlemore led the group down the path he had spotted. Wren stayed behind to investigate, to which Fiddlemore offered to help, but was declined since he was the only one who could clearly see the road.

After a few minutes traversing the overgrown path, a conversation about relationships and love came up. As they rounded a bend, they came into a clearing: the trading area.

“So the path stops here?” Sam asked.

“It does, this appears to be the trading area.”

Wren mentioned that it was more likely just the stables, and based on what he knew about dwarves, the entrance would be close. Fiddlemore got to searching, and dug a large flat stone out from near the boundary wall of the clearing.

He brought it to William, who translated the tablet. It was a marker, pointing to the coast and the trading area.

They righted the sign, and went in the direction of the barrows. Wren spotted a slumped body shape, and pointed it out to the group. Fiddlemore readied Ray of Frost, moments before Turtillous blasted the log. Fiddlemore reprimanded Turtillous for using fire in a forest, while dousing the fire.

Investigating the skeleton, Fiddlemore took the dagger while the rest of the party emptied the backpack.

As Turtillous took the bones, Fiddlemore watched, unnerved. He recommended burying the corpse, to which Wren agreed. Fiddlemore gave a quiet prayer, alongside Wren, after the adventurer was buried.

They continued until they saw a small mound. Fiddlemore summoned an Unseen Servant to help Sam dig near the mount, then began casting detect magic.

He noticed a faint aura of divination from one side of the mound, but nothing more. To prevent Turtillous from desecrating the grave, he didn’t mention it.

Fiddlemore got into an argument with Turtillous when he began digging with mage hand. Wren agreed to mediate the grave and prevent it from desecration, to which Fiddlemore angrily agreed. He began keeping watch, to avoid participating in activities he didn’t approve of.

Sam returned, asking Fiddlemore if anything had happened. The party then began rebuilding the tomb, while Fiddlemore prepared lunch using materials in the surrounding area.

Fiddlemore and Turtillous got into an argument over what spices to use, not noticing a spirit flame appear over the cookfire. Musei’s reflection was in the water in the cooking pot.

Wren related the appearance of the undead to the opening of the grave, further souring Fiddlemore’s mood. Eventually, the meal was finished, despite Musei’s appearance. Fiddlemore was still sour that Turtillous had added salt and cumin, commenting that the stew was too salty—though his palate, not the amount of salt, was what made him think that.

Following their meal, the party continued in the same direction as before. After crossing a stream, they came across a cliff, with a tomb door in the side.

As the door came down, a granite statue of a dwarf was revealed. Fiddlemore began casting detect magic.

“Nothing directly threatening.”

Fiddlemore, reminded by Sam’s action, lit a torch before entering the crypt at the rear of the group. They walked down the long hall, flanked by the alcoves containing the deceased. At the end of the hall was an archway, and beyond that a room with a stone sarcophagus, and a statue of a crouched dwarf holding a dark sphere.

While Wren investigated, Fiddlemore recast detect magic. The stone the crouched statue held appeared to ripple, hinting at an affinity for transmutation.

Fiddlemore recalled a superstition of the area regarding the healing powers of so-called “fairy stones.”

The group was thoughtfully stumped as to the purpose of the stone. Fiddlemore decided to channel some magic power into the stone, while the party investigated the rest of the room. As he poured magic into it, he felt his hand relax.

Wren offered to cast mending through the stone, fixing the glue holding the stone in place. Casting prestidigitation through the stone, Fiddlemore and Wren concluded that the stone was unimportant to the group.

The party left the crypt, Turtillous being half-dragged by Fiddlemore. They prepared another snack, as per Fiddlemore’s preference to smaller, but more frequent meals.

Passing a river, the party chanced upon what appeared to be a barrow-hill-like lodge. Fiddlemore found the slight divination magic the previous two lintels had had, and located the door for the party.

Opening the barrow, the party spotted another wisp. The party readied their chosen attacks to fend off the incorporeal. Leaves crunched underfoot, despite the tomb having been sealed.

The party, wary, discussed the leaves and spiders as they walked. They passed unhindered through the rooms of the tomb, until reaching the entrance to the third room, which was barred by cobwebs. Putting the webs to torch, they passed into the final chamber.

Of the three thrones, set back into alcoves, only one had a skeletal dwarf on it. Fiddlemore felt a sense of unease. William began helping Fiddlemore construct the magic circle required to cast Detect Magic.

By the time Turtillous got dragged away, the rest of the party gathered in the center of the room.

As the William shot fire, and Sam threw his torch, Fiddlemore scanned the doorway, preparing Ray of Frost.

Green lightning shot out of the wall, followed by leather scraps and bits of bone. Then, as William shot fire at the wall, Fiddlemore considered the fact that the wall was an illusion. He then cast mage armour on himself, and left the room, getting poisoned by a web.

Fiddlemore dashed out of the tomb, into the bright sunlight, sliding alongside Sam and pointing his staff in the direction he came.

#### Session 2

After Sam fired his rope back into the tomb, Fiddlemore tossed his torch into the first chamber, helping light the path for Wren and William.

Inside the cave, Fiddlemore saw the aftermath of William’s attempt at burning the webs covering Wren, but as he had nothing he could do, he opted to not re-enter the cave. He was more concerned with self-preservation than saving his companions. After Sam tore the web off of Wren, Fiddlemore sent his Unseen Servant in to help Wren up.

After Wren put the-wisp to torch, Fiddlemore reentered the tomb, burning any cobwebs he saw.

While the rest of the party looted the tomb, Fiddlemore read through the teachings of his Goddess, Athys, Goddess of the Winter Wind. He hadn’t before, as he had been told verbally by a member of the clergy and hadn’t read the teachings. [17]

Realizing that there was nothing against tomb raiding, Fiddlemore set his Unseen Servant to helping loot, and began searching for magic tomes or writings.

He found, trapped amongst the ruins of a dead dwarf’s beard, a cylindrical stone with arcane inscriptions. Neither he nor Wren, who was translating the dwarven runes, could make heads or tails of it.

Wren charcoal printed the cylinder onto a sheet or parchment for future reference. Fiddlemore slipped the original into his bag, then set to finishing the detect magic ritual. Detecting magic from inside the coffin, Fiddlemore punched a hole for Ssmalkis to enter through, using Ray of Frost.

William brought the broach he had found over to ask Fiddlemore if it was magical; it was not.
Fiddlemore opened the coffin Ssmalkis had entered, and the snake gave him a ring of frayed brass wires. The ring had a mild aura of transmutation. Examining closely, Fiddlemore recognized a druidic symbol. William translated it as “bloom.”

Fiddlemore determined that the “Orc Crusher” axe that Sam found was non-magical. He continued pointing out the magical signatures to the rest of the party.

After Wren found a wand that had an aura of necromancy, Fiddlemore grabbed the wand and a corpse, and took it outside to test the wand after pointing out the remaining magical signatures. He utilized his knowledge of magic to set the wand humming.

Flicking the wand at the bones he brought with him, he saw writhing black veins appear on the bone. He recognized the spell as “Bestow Curse.”

“This is going to be difficult. I’ve seen this before, but… I’ll need some time to study it.”

He placed the wand in his bag for future study [18].

After finishing their investigation, the party took another short rest. While Fiddlemore used Wren’s brandy to make soup, Wren himself went to take a piss and “restock” using the water-to-wine jug.

At the end of the short rest, the party set out once more as evening began. Reaching the next barrow, the group dug out yet another sealed doorway. Written in dwarven on it was a warning that those who disturbed the tomb of the “Undermountain Family” would be cursed.

Fiddlemore, as usual, cast detect magic.

“Yeah there’s definitely a curse.”

He detected nasty magic, and many magical signatures from within the tomb. Fiddlemore postulated that the entrance to the fort could be inside this specific tomb, hence why it had never been found.

After much discussion, the party eventually decided to continue their search for barrows while returning to Pjolt. As the sun descended behind the horizon, and the light dimmed, they came across another barrow with a stele set atop it. It mentioned the “Lightbeards,” who fell to the “Black Pestilence.”

Fiddlemore cast Detect Magic, then Unseen Servant. He had the servant open a small hole for William to shoot fire through, to cleanse the tomb. After William cast a number of flame spells, including Burning Hands, into the tomb, Fiddlemore had his servant place a few stones back to capture the heat.

As night fell, Fiddlemore read a book by the fire to help keep watch, going to sleep around midnight. The next morning, they had their breakfast on the backdrop of a smoking barrow.

After letting the barrow air out, the party entered and took the melted jewelry inside. Fiddlemore polished them with Prestidigitation, to make the materials slightly more presentable, while Wren used Mending.
“Now let’s find a rich place,” stated William.

“A non-cursed rich place,” mentioned Wren.

“Without any plague,” finished Fiddlemore.

They continued until they found a hill, devoid of trees, with an egg-shaped rock demarcating the resting place of the “Brotherhood of the Stalactite Worm,”

William and Fiddlemore, with their historical knowledge, figured there wouldn’t be anything worthwhile in the grave, and they continued until they reached a longer, loaf-shaped barrow without any labels.

Using the same method as the previous barrows, they quickly cracked open the mound. It belonged to the “Greengrouts.” After passing through the burial chamber, they reached an enclosed courtyard of sorts.

In the courtyard was a tree carved from sandstone, with green gemstones woven throughout to appear as leaves. Fiddlemore, at William’s suggestion, brought out his “Bloom Ring” to use on the tree. He whispered a short prayer to Asweir, out of respect for the Summer wind. A gentle breeze flowed through the tomb, and the symbols of several deities appeared on the biers.

Feeling as if the place had divine protection, the party refrained from looting the barrow. Carefully resealing it, they felt another Summer wind blow through. Fiddlemore heard a whisper, from what he could only assume was an elven woman:

“Where the daughter of earth and water reaches to touch the sky from the bones of the earth, and holds fast against the fury of the winds and the dragon's tongue, you will find the passage to shadow.”

Fiddlemore was convinced: this was a clue to find the entrance to the fortress. Whether the “passage of shadow” was the breach into the Underdark, or the fortress itself, it hinted at something within the stronghold.

Without further ado, the party returned to Pjolt. They considered visiting the “Hairy Arms,” an inn and tavern, the road out of town, or the fishing docks near the ocean and edge of town. The party went to the tavern, seeing the brown bearded bartender cleaning the bar slowly.

Sam and the tavern keeper began communicating in Dwarven, which Wren translated. It was seven silver for a week, and Fiddlemore bought a gallon of ale to fill out the one gold.

While sitting and chatting, Fiddlemore and Wren had the idea that the entrance to the fort could be on the ocean floor.

The next day, Wren received a letter from his wife, and they briefly chatted about Wren’s marriage problems (or lack thereof). Fiddlemore began studying the rune inscribed stone. Later in the day, he noticed William drinking sparrows’ blood. After a commotion outside, and the party rushing into the inn room, Fiddlemore stopped studying and left to avoid the “blood-drinking Tiefling.”

Walking outside the in, he chatted with the dwarves outside. When asked what the Tiefling was doing,  Fiddlemore’s explanation was vague. He told them of the sparrow butchering, and the blood-drinking. The dwarves muttered to each other something Fiddlemore heard as “cough-droff,” then ran off.

Shortly after, a small procession of dwarves came down the road. The leader appeared to be a cleric of sorts, clad in white robes, with a holy symbol about his neck, coloured beads in one hand, and an ornate cane in the other.

Fiddlemore mentioned to Wren, for the record, he was against the Tiefling being in the party the whole time, and they left to go elsewhere. Fiddlemore was looking for somewhere slightly quieter to study.

After finding a nice place to sit, Fiddlemore confirmed that the cylinder was a Dwarven spellbook. Using Wren’s translation, he found that it contained a spell called “Frozen Sphere [19].”

As the priestly procession exited the inn with a barrel, Wren met up with Fiddlemore where he was sitting and told him about the lead on the entrance to the Kolgrimmr fortress.

#### Session 3

Later on, while sitting in the Hairy Arms tavern, they heard a squawking sound, and a wren flew onto the window sill. The last thing Fiddlemore heard as Wren was torn out the window was “Not the in laaaaaws!”

A moment later, Turtillous arrived in his usual black magic style of rising from the darkness.

“So, what’s new?”

“I think we’re leaving,”

Noticing Turtillous’ rapid form shifting, Fiddlemore suspected what was going on, and patted Turtillous’ shoulder.

“Knew it.”

It was the 1st level spell, Disguise Self. Something Fiddlemore had used on multiple occasions to save his own hide.

Seeing the bite mark on Turtillous’ neck, Fiddlemore and Sam realized he was a vampire.

“So there’s another reason to leave town,” Sam said.

Fiddlemore suggested they take Turtillous to the church, causing William to pour holy water on the wound.

After William asked if they were going after the vampires, both Fiddlemore and Sam agreed that the plan was to skip town. When Turtillous mentioned his worst-case scenario, Fiddlmore began sharpening stakes.

At Sam’s glance during William and Turtillous’ inane conversation, Fiddlemore shook his head. Sam suggested they steal a horse, to which Fiddlemore replied that he’d rather not steal. He set out to look for someone who would barter with a horse cart.

As he was leaving, William asked to borrow his spellbook. Fiddlemore mentioned he was loath to give him the whole book, but he did end up lending William the pages containing his notes for “Detect Magic.”

While the time of day, around evening, wasn’t the best to search for a cart, the time of year was. Sam and Fiddlemore both found a cart, as well as a number of horses. They bought the better of the two, planning to build a cover for it.

While Sam purchased the cart, Fiddlemore bartered for the horses, complete with feed, tack, and the like [20]. About an hour later, they met back up at the Hairy Arms, and Fiddlemore began hitching up the horses.

With preparations made, Fiddlemore deposited the key, and a letter for Wren:

>
>
>
> *Dear Wren,*
>
>
>
> *We have left for the Imperial City. I pray that we may meet again. Search for the mark of the coiled snake at the Church of the 10 Winds. Our final destination, with Fryd’s blessing, will be Blackwells.*
>
>
>
> *Fare thee well,*
>
>
>
> *Fiddlemore Whidix*
>
>
>
>
>

The party drove until midnight, under the light of the nearly full moon. At that time, they approached a bridge over the river. Reaching the center of the bridge, an icy wind gusted, and a figure draped in black rags appeared on the bridge, with his hands clutching a cane.

Fiddlemore stopped the cart.

“Hello, madam.”

She had the appearance of an ancient witch.

“It was the wind of Fryd that we felt… or perhaps the wind of Athys.”

When she introduced herself, Fiddlemore addressed her.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Nightwillow. My name is Fiddlemore Whidix. Well, if you’re settled in, we’d best be off.”

Noting the horses were looking tired, the party broke for the night. William, at Ms. Nightwillow’s suggestion, went straight to bed.

Fiddlemore, didn’t trust the hitchhiker as much, and took the first watch. He set an alarm spell around the cart. As it began to rain, he began building a cover while grumbling all the while.

At the end of his watch, Ms. Nightwillow awoke with a snort, asking if she could take watch. Fiddlemore declined, saying that it was the job of an adventurer and that she needed the sleep more than they did.

He woke Sam for the second watch, then went to sleep after a brief chat with Sam, and casting Alarm around his bedroll.

Awaking without incident, the party packed up. Ssmalkis warned Fiddlemore that Ms. Nightwillow smelled like mildew and marsh mud. While Turtillous scrambled eggs, Fiddlemore made them poached; it was their usual cook-off.

Fiddlemore ate his breakfast, and finished preparations to leave as Sam went to get the warlocks, who had stepped away to talk.

Nearing the forest, the party recalled that the caravan they had arrived on had passed through it. After a few hours of searching, they found the passage they had come through, demarcated by trees that had been hacked back.

The ride immediately became bumpier as they entered the forest. Several hours later, they broke for a quick lunch. An hour after lunch, the cart trail ended at a blackberry thicket.

William and Sam began hacking away at the branches, and when Ms. Nightwillow suggested they take another path, and William mentioned the blackberry bushes were unnatural, the party quickly concluded that someone was trying to block their path.

While Fiddlemore suspected William, it was obvious who was more suspicious. The party decided to slog through the bushes, and 20 minutes later the cart rumbled onward.

Though they should have felt at peace, Fiddlemore felt a slight unnervedness. But there was no incident for another few days, as they left the forest and began climbing into the mountains. They came across the site of a rockslide.

Optimistic that they were ensuring the trade caravan would reach Pjolt in a timely manner, Fiddlemore threw his back into clearing the path, breaking larger rocks into smaller ones with Ray of Frost.
Suddenly, Fiddlemore felt a sensation through the Weave of ice breaking. Looking up at the mountain, he saw a white humanoid up on the mountain. It was approaching, so he called out.

“Sam! Be on your guard.”

Fiddlemore pointed at the humanoid. The party debated what to do, and eventually settled on staying and, if necessary, fighting it.

“Have any of you ever fought a yeti?” Asked Sam. “Neither have I.”

Fiddlemore grit his teeth, preparing his newest attack spell. At 90ft, Fiddlemore fired a sphere of ice at the yetis. The first dodged, and the second caught the ball, raising it above its head.

“Don’t cast cold!” shouted Sam.

“Well that’s bloody brilliant, isn’t it!”

He switched magics.

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use this.”

A skeletal hand burst from the ground, clutching the smaller yeti in a crushing grip. As the larger yeti threw Fiddlemore’s Ice Sphere back at the cart, Fiddlemore dismissed the spell and the ball of ice disappeared.

The smaller yeti began fleeing, while the warlocks blasted it with fire.

Using illusion magic, Fiddlemore built a castle wall, and mentally commanded his Unseen Servant—which had been helping clear rocks—to block any attacks that tried to make it through the wall. He heard the tree in the larger yeti’s hands creaking, as it was stumped on whether or not to throw it.

Sam ran around the wall to loose another quarrel. Letting out a roar, the larger yeti retreated. Evidently, Sam’s bolt had killed its target.

#### Session 4

As the yetis fled, the party discussed their next plan of action. They eventually settled on driving the cart slowly, while clearing the larger rocks.

Sam and Fiddlemore’s Unseen Servant began helping, by clearing rocks and pushing the wheels of the cart when it stalled.

After about two hours, the cart cleared the landslide, and they heard a roaring. A white-furred, horned creature carrying a yeti’s head was approaching with a roar.

While the other members of the party made their own attacks, Fiddlemore cast Chill Touch. It was revealed that the “yeti” was Turtillous, who was immensely entertained by his masochistic joke.

Fiddlemore insulted Turtillous by comparing Dargonborn to Tieflings—he even postulated that Tieflings might be more civilized.

Another three days passed. It was good weather, making it easy to travel. Every night, Ms. Nightwillow continued pestering the group to take a watch. Fiddlemore objected to giving William a watch, due to being an untrustworthy Tiefling, so the party relented and split the watches among the three remaining party members.

On the third night, Fiddlemore was awoken by his personal Alarm spell. He saw Ms. Nightwillow.

She commented that he appeared to be a light sleeper, mentioning the others had risen early. Heavily suspicious, Fiddlemore suggested they wait for the party to return.

He prepared his strongest spell, Ice Sphere. After Ms. Nightwillow left, Fiddlemore removed her from his Alarm exemptions, and began packing quickly.

“Ach. If only I had divination spells.”

Packing up, Fiddlemore came across items and trinkets that his companions definitely would have taken had they actually went ahead to scout.

As the sun rose, neither his companions, nor Ms. Nightwillow had returned.

*Damn. I knew the Tiefling and Ms. Nightwillow were in cahoots. They’ve been talking to each other a lot lately, and he even invited her on. She’s probably a drow, vampire, or other fey and evil being… Not that I’m any better. It seems like all I have left is to run, as usual. A shame; I was starting to like those people.*

The horses were hitched, and the cart packed. Fiddlemore could wait no longer. He rolled away from the camp, calmly noting that Sam’s greatsword had disappeared.

*Seems like he’s still alive. I hope we meet again.*

Fiddlemore began writing a letter to Sam.

>
>
>
> *Dear Sam,*
>
>
>
> *Evidently, Nightwillow cannot be trusted. I will continue travelling to the Imperial City. As before, search for the mark of the coiled snake at the Church of the 10 Winds.*
>
>
>
> *Know that this is the fate of those who overly trust Tieflings and Dragons. May Rhys and Beeyr watch over you; I pray we may meet again.*
>
>
>
> *Fare thee well,*
>
>
>
> *Fiddlemore Whidix*
>
>
>
>
>

He sealed the letter with his signet ring, a stamp containing the crest of the coiled snake. He tucked the scroll into Sam’s crossbow, hoping the message would be received, then tucked his stationery and writing supplies back into his satchel. Rolling down the mountain path Fiddlemore breathed the cool air, and basked in the flora and fauna. He realized this was the most peaceful the journey had been since leaving Pjolt.

Ahead, Fiddlemore could see where the path transitioned from winding mountain path, into a well-kept road between the wild grass fields at the root of the mountain. On a distant ridge, he spotted a quaint cabin, with smoke curling from the chimney.

When William’s book vanished, Fiddlemore felt slight regret he hadn’t placed the letter in there, though he’d prefer that Sam got the letter anyway.

Reaching the cabin, Fiddlemore dismounted, planning to do some trade with the resident of the cabin.

After preparing to greet the owner of the cabin, Fiddlemore noticed the crossbow had disappeared. Nonplussed, he knocked on the door to the cabin, and a skinny old human, smoking a long pipe, answered. Inside, there was a quaint, single room cabin; without even an oven inside, one could assume it was around the back.

“Ah, greetings. My name is Fiddlemore Whidix, a humble trader.”

Fiddlemore showed the man “his” wares, which included something that caught the old man’s eye: Turtillous’ cooking set.

Fiddlemore pretended to be reluctant about selling the cookware, to drive the price up, mentioning Turtillous was a professional chef. The old man offered him a small nugget of gold, an obvious lowball.

“I’m more in the market of food, n’ drink.”

Eventually, since Fiddlemore grew more and more reluctant to sell the cookware, they came to the understanding that nothing he had would interest the old man, and Fiddlemore went on his way.

Then, with a flash of inspiration, suddenly wheeled around, grabbing the Jesus pitcher.

“Ya like wine? I offer services.”

The door to the cabin flew back open.

“What kind of services?”

“Wine services.”

Fiddlemore explained he was a wizard, and produced some wine using the jug While the old man was suspicious at first, his desire for alcohol won out in the end [21].

“Say… How much is the jug?”

“Well, it’s not for sale, but the product is if you’ve got some containers.”

“I may have some of those…”

While haggling over the wine, Fiddlemore noticed flashes of light from the side of the mountain. Since it was rather far away, he disregarded it, continuing to barter.

When there was a muffled boom, Fiddlemore couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Is that normal?”

“No! What’s going on up there?”

“I have no idea.”

Squinting in the direction of the boom, Fiddlemore made out a black speck, bobbing and weaving. Then he felt a presence [22].

“I need to cast a spell. Something feels wrong.”

Ssmalkiss whispered. “How curioussssss. There’s something neear. Smellssss like a Tieflingggg.”

He felt a tingling on one of his shoulders, prompting him to cast detect magic.

“William?”

“Hello? Can you hear me now?”

William explained the situation, and Fiddlemore sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers out of exasperation.

“Listen, I’m busy right now.”

Halfway through the conversation, in which William asked Fiddlemore for aid, the old man queried why Fiddlemore had suddenly begun talking to the air. Fiddlemore explained that wizards had a spell that allowed them to communicate over long distances, and the old man gave him a strange look, but evidently had given up on understanding wizards. Fiddlemore asked for 10 minute’s time to prepare, which William refused.

Fiddlemore left the cart with the old man, and strode towards the commotion to assist the rest of the party. He angrily cast Mage Armour, and prepared Ice Sphere.

A few minutes later, at the foot of the mountain, Fiddlemore came across the swarm of wasps chasing Turtillous.

“Seriously? I charged my strongest spell for this…”

Fiddlemore's sour mood was quite a bit harsher than one would expect. He hadn't realized it, but the taste of peace away from the party had been something he would regret sacrificing [23].

Hearing a squeaking by his ear, recalling the party had been turned into mice, Fiddlemore cast Comprehend Languages.

Then, after speaking with William, he cast Chill Touch and began slaughtering the wasps.

After Turtillous arrived, they had a brief conversation. Fiddlemore complained that he wanted to return to his trade deal as human beings, and Turtillous cast Disguise Self to create his human body.

Sparing a glance, they saw Ms. Nightwillow, hovering on her broomstick 400 feet away.

“Evidently she is a threat to us, considering she tried to abduct you and turned you into rats.”

Fiddlemore wracked his brain for what kind of spell had turned the party into mice, recognizing it was a spell fo slightly higher level then he could cast, though not terribly powerful.

The party decided it was better to slay her now, rather than later. But…

“She may be stronger than each of us individually…”

“But together, we may be more powerful.” Responded William.

After bargaining with his patron, Turtillous asked how attached to “that miner” Fiddlemore was. He mentioned, seethingly, that they couldn’t just murder innocent bystanders. After a brief conversation, Ms. Nightwillow left.

After mentioning murdering the prospector a second time, Fiddlemore charged Ice Sphere.

“I’m starting to think I should make a deal with Nightwillow, not you.”

While Turtillous and William discussed something stupid, Fiddlemore began to leave. He got into a heated argument with Turtillous about the integrity of his illusions, then exasperatedly gave up and allowed the mice to sit in his pocket, telling Ssmalkis to not eat them.

“Ya back, I see.” said the old man when Fiddlemore returned.

Fiddlemore, exasperated and irritated, explained the commotion was “wizard problems.” He gave up on attempting any form of sale with the prospector, and climbed back onto the cart.

After complaining about his lost sale, William called him a cranky old human while Turtillous defended him. Sam joined in—though, as it was all in squeaks and Fiddlemore had dispelled his Comprehend Languages, he understood none of it.

The cart rolled on. By the end of the second day, the rest of the party returned to their humanoid forms. Fiddlemore continued to stare ahead, insistent on driving the cart—he hadn’t slept for days.

Fiddlemore was completely exhausted [24], yet he insisted on continuing to drive the cart. They were forced to stop when their horses simply stopped, and went to sleep. Fiddlemore slumped over, shortly after, unconscious [25].

The next morning, Fiddlemore had the energy to stay awake, but not the willpower to continue driving. He groggily sat in the cart, watching Turtillous vomit out the side.

#### Session 5

The morning of the second day, Fiddlemore was still fatigued. He barely paid attention to the grotesque interaction between the dragonborn-cum-vampire and the tiefling.

The rolling hills and oak woodland he had been relishing in he could only see as a faded grey; the demons of Turtillous and William were haunting him once more.

A ways down the road was a pile of rocks, about four feet tall, that appeared to be a small beehive. As they passed it, they saw within the hive a strange symbol, engraved on a piece of slate. Fiddlemore didn’t recognize the symbol, though it became obvious that the cairn was actually a small shrine.

The cart stopped, and the warlocks dismounted, but Fiddlemore paid it no mind.

*Perhaps this is the symbol of a demon god… No, I suppose not. I would have recognized it if it was…* *Though, it does seem… somehow… familiar.*

A quarter of an hour later, Turtillous tossed William into the back of the cart, and the cart lurched forward. As the third night since separating from Ms. Nightwillow encroached, they spotted a small building: The Riverside Inn.

The party discussed whether or not to stay at the inn. Fiddlemore reluctantly accepted that William’s plan of changing carts had its merits, though it was more out of resignation that he trailed silently into the inn behind the rest of the party.

Escorted to their rooms, Fiddlemore and Sam took one, while the grotesques took the other. Paranoid, Fiddlemore began carving alarm spells into the doorframe and windowsill, while Sam left the room.

Sam asked if Fiddlemore wanted food, but Fiddlemore silently continued carving runes. After covering the whole room with tiny runes, he climbed out the window and began carving runes in the dirt outside the inn.

Approached by Persephone and Stephen, Fiddlemore reacted negatively. He refused to let them help, or even approach, him.

“You’re looking a little cold there.”

“Of course. That is my specialty after all.”

“He’s a little delusional.”

“Perhaps I have dabbled in illusions for too long… But this is the only way for me to feel at ease.”

Stephen approached, and Fiddlemore retreated, maintaining an approximately two meter distance.

When Stephen changed one of the runes in the magic circle, Fiddlemore simply began a new one, letting Stephen continue work on the old one.

Upon passing by the front of the inn, Persephone and Stephen charged him, but they stumbled. Fiddlemore quickly reacted, launching an Ice Sphere and sending the pair flying [26].

“So, you reveal your true nature. I was right to be paranoid.”

There were large, brownish streaks on their bodies, and wounds of loam instead of flesh, Fiddlemore took a guess at the situation.

“Earth golems, eh?”

“It’s rude to ask a girl her race,”

“Come to the attic if you want to live!”

Then the golems’ blazed with shadow, and Stephen charged. In a stunning display of incompetence, he tripped as his legs crumbled. Fiddlemore waved his arms, falling backward. As Persephone dove on top of them, he cast Shield. The spell activated with barely a moment to spare; the feminine golem slammed into a circular blue mirage.

Fiddlemore cast Message at Sam: “Sam, threats outside.”

“Yeah, there’s also a cursed attic.”

“Tch,”

*Seems like help isn’t coming.*

For a wizard, this sort of combat was disadvantageous. But for Fiddlemore, it wasn’t something he was unaccustomed to.

With a mental command, Fiddlemore’s Ice Sphere knocked the golems back. When they stood up again, Fiddlemore saw that the once human skin had degenerated. Now, two humanoid blobs of dirt and rock faced him.

The pair charged him again, but it was different this time: one of the golems helped the other. Fiddlemore fell back on Shield again, stopping the charge for the second time.

His Ice Sphere shot forth, destroying one of the golems. The other lamented..

“Taste death,” growled the wizard, amidst the golem’s incoherent screams.

Fiddlemore cast a spell he was familiar with, but the residual magic from his previous casts interfered with the Weave. The skeletal hand grasped himself, rather than his enemy. [27]

“Tch,” he scoffed in annoyance, as he felt the touch of death in his flesh. Suddenly, as a consequence of Sam’s fight, the inn folded in on itself. All that remained was the long desiccated remains of an inn, and Sam, wreathed in flame.

As Fiddlemore barely acknowledge what he assumed was an illusion, the earth golem charged Sam. Sam deftly dodged, and the golem flew into the inn’s remains. A moment later, Fiddlemore fired his Ice Sphere at the golem, rocketing it past Sam. The golem crumbled into dirt as Sam dove into the river.

Sam cast Message, and the two began walking toward each other. Partway through their conversation, they stopped casting Message.

“Hey, remember that witch? Yeah, that’s all I have to say.”

“Is she dead?”

“No.” Sam explained his theories as to why the inn disappeared.

“Or, it was an illusion.”

“Maybe? She did say the attic was enchanted, not cursed.”

Sam enquired as to Fiddlemore’s state.

“Well enough, considering I had to fight two enemies in melee combat.”

Through a brief conversation, the two agreed they needed to kill Nightwillow. Then, Fiddlemore queried Sam about the location of the two warlocks, which he did not know.

“It seems we have to assume they are against us.”

The two of them discussed their options, and after hearing Sam fought Ms. Nightwillow, he concluded that she wasn’t as strong as his worst assumptions. He and Sam went back towards the inn, with the intent to finish off Ms. Nightwillow once and for all.

As expected, the foundation looked like it had been sitting for decades. They could see the remains of the bar, but no sign of Nightwillow. But one thing stood out: A large tunnel, clawed out by something with flat claws.

Fiddlemore would have thought it was made a shovel, if not for the odd claw-like furrows. A black speck appeared from the woods, and as it drew near they recognized it as Turtillous.

“...know where they are…” groaned the Dragonborn.

“Do you want us to blast you again?” retorted Fiddlemore, as comment on the somewhat evil sounding moan.

“Should I step on him?” joked Sam. “So, should we grab him?”

“...I know where Wren… where Wren and William are.”

Turtillous explained the situation. Hearing there were two more witches, Sam and Fiddlemore agreed that combat was no longer a valid option.

Fiddlemore went to hitched up the cart, to prepare their escape. Using illusions, he covered himself with a box, as the cart rolled down the road.

When William returned, he mentioned Wren. After discussing with Sam and Turtillous, the three mentioned that Wren, perhaps, preferred to stay behind. When Wren appeared, Fiddlemore began scribing the ritual for Detect Magic.

Wren tried to defend the witches, claiming that diplomacy was often better than combat. The group disagreed; Fiddlemore mentioned they attacked first.

As the volume level increased, it got the the point where Fiddlemore took action.

“Silence!” He cast Ice Sphere, to make his point—no doubt lowering the opinions the others had of him.

The continued their argument, albeit quietly. From Wren’s odd explanations, Fiddlemore began having a very negative view of elves.  Eventually, the conversation dwindled into silence. Around that time, Fiddlemore finished his detect magic spell.

The only magic out of the expected—or more accurately, since it was suspected the trio was being tracked, of note—was an aura of divination surrounding the three who had recently returned.

There was also a strong aura of Abjuration from William’s bracelet, and faint necromancy from Turtillous, but Fiddlemore didn’t mention that.

“Evidently the three of you are being tracked.”

Fiddlemore recommended they visit a priest to dispel the spell, and he agreed with William’s comment they should make haste to the city. He also agreed with Turtillous that the party was the biggest group of idiots he had ever met.

Eventually, Fiddlemore tried to get some rest, but what he got could barely be called a nap. He was exhausted when he awoke, and groggily studied his spells. His mood was, to say the least, poor. As a precaution, he cast Detect Magic, noting that the auras of divination were still active.

They continued without incident, and broke camp the next night. For the next four days, it was much the same, and they entered their third week of travel in relative safety—they weren’t dead yet.

#### Session 6

2 days after leaving the hags, the party entered a more civilised area: the town of Giant’s Bowl, a prosperous village famous for the town hall, a mammoth bowl, which a giant lost a long time ago.

The party was hesitant to stop for any extended period due to the witches’ pursuit; Fiddlemore continued to resign himself to whatever the party did. He followed Sam into the market to sell what few pieces of jade he had left.

“So, how much you get for your gems n’ stuff?” Asked Sam.

“Pitifully little.” He explained where he had spent the money, insinuating he wanted some money by explaining the various things he needed to buy, but couldn’t.

The conversation turned to a specific type of foci, but unfortunately for Sam, while he knew *of* them, Fiddlemore knew pitifully little about foci themselves.

Later, Fiddlemore and Sam found a buyer for his waraxe. Fiddlemore talked the old dwarf up quite a bit, by explaining his blatant lies about the axe [28]. They eventually settled for 150 gold coins.

Sam mentioned he could do a bit of shopping with Fiddlemore, and the old wizard immediately began searching for scrolls, wands, and the like—anything he could use to pad his spellbook. He cast detect magic, and tracked down a few items to certain stalls.

He also detected resonances from down the road, a sure sign of the horror to come.

The first that caught Fiddlemore’s eye was broach, containing a minor spell scroll. He recognised it as something similar to the “Illusory Script” spell, a spell from ancient times that mirrored whatever was written on the scroll to another, linked, scroll.

The next was a piece of chalk, which the seller claimed wrote invisible text that couldn’t be erased, which only a person whose name was written could see the text. At the same stall was a clockwork bird, which the merchant explained while Fiddlemore tested the chalk with a ritual spell. Turning the key in the clockwork bird’s back let the bird record anything it heard. He named the bird as Hugo, and explained that Hugo would find whomever his master asked him two. The final item the gnome brought out a compass made of iron, the size of a small pan, with a double tipped quartz crystal in place of a needle. He explained it was made by his great-great-grandfather, who made many of these compasses, and that it was a ley-line compass. Fiddlemore perused the gnome’s collection of first-level spell scrolls while thinking about whether or not to buy the compass.

In the end, Fiddlemore decided to add to his collection of clockwork animals [29], but no scrolls caught his eye. He thought it would be better to put the money experimenting with and recording the spells of the other casters.

After Sam and Fiddlemore finished buying various alchemical materials and some expensive inks, they came across the rest of the party, in the middle of the aftermath of some “eldritch bullshit,” according to Wren.

When Turtillous explained the book he had been intently reading— “We’re in deep shit.”—Fiddlemore nonchalantly queried as to why, and jokingly asked William if he could teach him Invisibility.

Hearing the true nature of the danger, Fiddlemore moved into action. He went with Fiddlemore to the guard’s post, while Fiddlemore quickly wrote up some fairly accurate documents—to put it crudely, forgeries.

When they reached the post, Sam explained the situation, and Fiddlemore proffered his documentation, claiming the orders came from the Whidix barony. The paperwork checked out, and Fiddlemore handed Sam command of the operation.

He left the guardhouse, returning to where William was. After Fiddlemore inquired about Invisibility, William began teaching him—in exchange for a decrease in hostility from Fiddlemore. Despite some awkward teaching on William’s part, Fiddlemore was eventually able to question, observe, and experiment enough to confidently cast the spell.

In the last hour before Turtillous’ predicted zero hour, Fiddlemore scarfed down the steak Sam had brought them.

Shortly before the 18 gates were meant to open, the party regrouped at the church.

It was 0 hour. Staring into the sky, there was silence. And a single glint of orange light. Nothing was happening. The party discussed what the situation was, and realized that the gates each took an hour to open.

Fiddlemore finished going over his notes on Invisibility a second time, and when he was finished writing additional comments and summaries, he went to sleep. It was night, after all.

He was awoken by Wren, who had seen him thrashing in his sleep. He warned Fiddlemore, than “It’s happening,” and Fiddlemore decided it would be best to stay awake—both because bad things were happening, and also because he didn’t want his robes to shift and reveal his horns, wings, or tail.

He cast mage armour on Wren and himself, and tried using detect magic. He saw great magical signatures that appeared and disappeared just as quickly. Then, he was shaken by Wren, who was wondering what he was doing—he had been staring, with his eyes inches from the floor.

Turtillous began asking who was who, to which Fiddlemore responded cryptically:

“Are you you? Am I me? That’s the fun with illusion magic. You can’t tell.”

While Fiddlemore scribed his various spells, he saw creeping shadows; he paid them no mind. He had a stroke of inspiration after flipping through his notes.

Frantically, Fiddlemore began working on a magic circle, based on the culmination of all his magical notes. Wren helped, adding the runes for Protection from Good and Evil.

After some time, and frantically shoving aside multiple pews, carpets, and other religious paraphernalia from the middle of the room, the foundation for the revolutionary ritual was complete.

Had he the presence of mind to do so, Fiddlemore would have recorded the proceedings in great detail, for surely this event could be used to push the fold of magical research.

But the recording of this newly-developed spell, "Aegis of Absolution," would have to wait.

Staff in hand, Fiddlemore raised both his arms.

**“Begin the ritual.”**

A purple shimmer appeared around him as the magic began to take effect.
​​​​​​

#### Session 7

The party regrouped in the church, and Wren approached Fiddlemore, who was muttering his spell.

“Come,” growled the wizard. “Join the circle.”

Fiddlemore was at the center of the circle,  at the intersection of lines with his staff clasp with both hands and planted in the ground, so Wren stood at the bottom of the circle and thrust his ring in the air.

From outside the circle, Sam windered at where to stand. Fiddlemore advised him to join at an intersection of lines. Wren moved so that the three who were channeling their magic stood in a triangle.

When he judged they had sufficient magic power, Fiddlemore spoke.

“Be they real or illusory, none shall cross the Aegis of Absolution.”

Loops and spirals of glowing energy surrounded Fiddlemore. His staff glowed bright white, as the designs scrawled on the ground flared blindingly. The ear shattering sound of a bell tolling filled the church. [30]

A silvery dome, that rippled and distorted the light as if underwater, covered them. Fiddlemore had frozen time, space, and magic, in a thin layer, preventing all forms of travel through the barrier.

“By the blessing of Athys, this should hold to morning.”

The party began questioning each other and Fiddlemore about the nature of the circle. He explained his reasoning to them, despite William not understanding.

“Be they magic, physical, illusion… None shall pass the Aegis of Absolution.”

Indeed, that seemed to be the case: the illusions which the others had been seeing were not visible from within the circle, nor could they sense the weave. Wren mentioned that the safety of the circle was probably for the best, even if they would have to deal with the consequences of not being able to leave it.

Then, Sam and Turtillous tossed William into the edge of the barrier. White frost spread over him, then he vanished into the barrier with a red smear.

Fiddlemore surmised that the barrier had simply adapted to the introduction of William, and frozen him within the boundaries of the barrier.

Fiddlemore sat down, and began copying the magic circle into his notes. Eventually, the party bed down for the night. When they awoke, the spell was still standing, and when it was light outside the circle, Fiddlemore dispelled the magic.

To dispell the circle, Fiddlemore chanted in a language he had devised [31]. Triangles began spilling off of the dome, like ice melting, forming a lotus of falling light around them.

The not-warlocks struck a pose as the chant finished. The small triangles of light scattered like petals, revealing the interior of the church.

There were holes in the glass, and the pews were stacked in the corners as if a poltergeist had thrown them. An orange glow filled the building from what Fiddlemore assumed was the sun.

About to leave, Fiddlemore watched as the two warlocks were thrown out the door of the church by Sam, into the muddy road. It was previously cobble, which struck Fiddlemore as odd, but the rest of the village seemed intact.

Seeing Sam start to leave, Fiddlemore followed, and they went out to get breakfast. Turtillous joined them.

As they walked along, Fiddlemore took note of whatever changes he noticed. Although the cobblestones were gone, the imprints in the mud were still there albeit blurred slightly by the rain. They found the missing cobblestones forming small circles around trees and piled in cairns around town.

“Evidently the same as at the church happened out here.”

They followed Sam into the ground floor restaurant of the “Silver Dough” Inn, and Sam ordered three orders of eggs and sausage. Fiddlemore ordered “the same,” misunderstanding Sam’s intention to buy food for the trio—Fiddlemore was hungry anyhow.

They sat at the table the innkeeper guided them to, and Fiddlemore relaxed by staring out the window at the garden and vegetable patch there.

When the food arrived, Fiddlemore cautiously cast detect magic while the others dug in. 10 minutes later, upon determining the food was safe to eat, Fiddlemore also started his large, 3-course breakfast.

They finished their meal without incident, resolving to leave town. They made their way over to where they had left the horses and cart, and begun preparing to leave. Then, after Wren and William joined them, they set off on the final stretch.

William began telling them his life’s story, for some reason. After told the end of his story—which was a punchline that the whole party were his students—Fiddlemore used Minor Illusion to tune out the sound of William's voice.

Around 5 days later, as the William Tell Overture drew to a close, they crested the hill to the Imperial City, Toriana.

“I can see my house from here,” commented Sam.

“I can see my shop,” mentioned Wren.

“I’m blind,” stated Fiddlemore, as the sun blinded him. He saw the Imperial Spire, standing proud over the city, and its shadow stretching out across the excessively large sundial of Toriana. Fiddlemore was looking forward to visiting the state-run magical research center within it.

They passed the gate without an inspection; there were simply too many travelers to perform an inspection on every cart and carriage.

After stashing the cart at Sam’s house, they visited Blackwell's Bookstore. As Wren opened the door, something that looked like a halfling came flying out. While Wren fared the worst, Fiddlemore managed to deflect the halfling by reflexively casting Shield.

At the end of the corridor between bookshelves was an elven lady with her fist outstretched, as if she had just punched a halfing.

Fiddlemore watched as Wren was dragged away by his wife, then wandered over to the magic section. He noted a good representation of the well-known scholars, as well as writings from many other perspectives—clerics’, wizards’, warlocks’, and even a couple from sorcerers’.

Wren’s wife, Linette, had a chat with Fiddlemore, who was somewhat surprised she remembered him, and he explained what had happened in the town five days prior.

“Well, one of the warlocks was going on about 18 gates, so I developed a spell in the moment to seal off the area. There were large fluctuations of what I can only assume was illusion magic…”

Linette stormed off, shouting at Wren once more, and Fiddlemore went back to perusing the selection.

“A Year Without Sunlight,” an autobiography by the sorcerer Wyrtha telling stories of her travels in the underdark, consumed Fiddlemore’s attention as Turtillous entered the bookstore. He paid no attention to the fairly commonplace sounds of combat.

“Ice Sphere.”

As a fire flared up, Fiddlemore quickly cast his spell to stop it from spreading. Both William and Turtillous had disappeared, and Linette was in their place.

Not sparing a second glance, Fiddlemore returned to his book. Figuring he couldn’t spend all his time reading, he decided to purchase the book.

“Ah, Ms. Linette,”

“Yes?”

“Would you be willing to part with this for 7 gold?”

She glanced at the cover.

“Of course. Just go over to the till, don’t mind the broken things.”

His purchase complete, Fiddlemore wandered off to explore the city. It had been many years since his last visit, so his memory was quite rusty.

First, he visited the High Church of Beeyr, the largest church in the city. He paid his respects to the Decemviral Winds, and purchased a necklace with the symbol of Athys.

Before heading to the Imperial Spire, he took a break in the central park to read more of the book he had bought.

#### Session 8

While Turtillous was having his surgery the next day, Fiddlemore visited the formless stone spire that was the centerpiece of the city: the Empire Spire. He was greeted by a 20ft tall wall of marble, with a large double door made of intricately carved silver.

Without handle, nor lock, Fiddlemore presumed they were magical doors, and knocked. He spoke with the ‘doorman,’—in actuality, it was a spell cast on the door that spoke—who mentioned that those with sufficient knowledge of magic would be allowed access to their records.

After passing the verbal test, the door asked for an “artistic” use of magic. Fiddlemore showed his magic circle for “Aegis of Absolution,” the doors swung open. The hallway was oddly bright for the few blue orbs that cast light, but it was nothing special to a wizard.

A sphere, coated with glowing runes, approached Fiddlemore. Purple lines spread across, forming a face.

“Good morning,”

The sphere introduced itself as a servitor of the tower, and upon request led Fiddlemore to a large library. By his best guess, the hallway had been sloping upward, so they must have been 80ft above ground level. Looking out the windows that bent across the ceiling and down the walls confirmed this.

Everything within the library had a blue-and-white theme, including the stasis-fields containing numerous books about magic both theoretical and proven. He asked the servitor to remind him to eat lunch, and began delving into the trove of knowledge.

Hours later, Fiddlemore noticed a black marble tower appear next to the library window. A short while later, William appeared at the top. They noticed each other, and had a brief conversation in which William tried to get Fiddlemore to let him into the building.

Fiddlemore declined, and when William was convinced that Fiddlemore couldn’t help, the conversation ended. Then, Fiddlemore moved away from the window.

Eventually, the whole party convened in the library. Then, they went their separate ways for their separate studies. A few hours later, when Wren noticed Turtillous was missing, Fiddlemore decided it was a good time for a break—he had been studying necromancy, interspersing it with glimpses to counterspelling, for almost 8 hours by that point.

Sam, Wren, and Turtillous left to search for Turtillous. They found him, sitting in an alleyway with a ratty blanket draped over him, preaching to the homeless about drugs and his patron god.

“I think he’s gone mad.” commented Fiddlemore, as the trio looked on is a horrified awe.

After a comment from Wren, Turtillous fled into a nearby building—the healers’ college. They followed him into the building. When Sam knocked on the door, Fiddlemore realized the door was locked and cast knock on it.

The one who greeted them was what appeared to be a tall goblin, who was immensely suspicious—in other words, Fiddlemore was mostly sure it was actually Turtillous.

“It seems he doesn’t want to leave.”

Fiddlemore’s comment went unheard by Sam, who continued conversing with the goblin. Then, a bag of ketamine came flying at them, which Fiddlemore deflected with the Shield spell.

Sam wondered aloud who the goblin was, and Fiddlemore answered .

“Turtillous, obviously. I already said that he doesn’t look like he wants to leave.”

“Oh, really? Looks like he really doesn’t like us.”

Seeing Turtillous run from Wren, Fiddlmore created an illusory wall at the end of the street. Turtillous charged down the now dead-end alley, back at Wren. As he ran back under the window, Fiddlemore shot a Ray of Frost at him, coating the street in ice.

Turtillous cast Misty Step before he hit the ice. Suddenly, a professor came out of the college and began berating them. Fiddlemore cast invisibility.

Seeing a leg in the chimney of the house across the street, Fiddlemore calmly walked to the side door and cast Knock. The door burst off its hinges, and Fiddlemore calmly entered. His eyes closed, as he focused on Ssmalkis’ senses.

When he heard a scream, Fiddlemore broke into a run. A screaming lady ran past him, grabbing a broom and returning up the stairs.

Wren and Linnete entered, asking where the “ketamine addict” was. Fiddlemore answered “upstairs,” but Turtillous shouted back “downstairs!” Fiddlemore dispelled his invisibility, and repeated himself.

Entering the room, Fiddlemore recognized that disguise self was what was creating the horrifying creature was Turtillous. The warlock had killed a man, and drank his blood. He called Turtillous a monster. “Monsters cannot be reasoned with. I have tried many times, and failed.”

Wren was hesitant, but showed only a moment’s hesitation.

“If we kill him, we can revive him as not a vampire, right?”

“Indeed. Ressurection cures most diseases, and vampirism is… It’s just what I know, but the theory is sound.”

Turtillous hissed and growled from his position on the ceiling. There was no longer any time for hesitation.

After Wren cast a spell on Linnette, Fiddlemore cast disguise self on himself, to turn into Linnette. He then pulled a wand out from under his robes. He closed his eyes, tapping into Ssmalkis’ blindsight[32].

Sam deflected Turtillous’ first attack with his sword; Fiddlemore quickly canceled the Shield spell he was preparing.

Turtillous caught the arrow Wren shot, and threw it back at them. Again, Fiddlemore didn’t need to block it.

Fiddlemore cast detect magic so he could see Turtillous’ magic, then moved into a position to protect Wren, brandishing his wand—though, through the illusion created by Disguise Self, it had the appearance of a short sword.

Then, Turtillous dove out the window.

#### Session 9: In which Fiddlemore Dies

After Turtillous left, they heard heavy breaths. Then, the lady of the house screamed.

“Demons!”

Wren was the first to leave through the window, in hot pursuit of Turtillous. Green lightning lashed out; Fiddlemore had stopped moving as soon as he saw the source of the magic[33]. He saw more traces of evocation, followed closely by a resounding boom—Sam’s Thunderwave.

Fiddlemore considered how to attack. Blasting through the wall would be difficult, but he remembered that vampires were resistant to necrotic damage. Then, Fiddlemore threw himself out the window.

He missed. A bolt of ice splashed off the wall as Turtillous dodged. Lightning enveloped Fiddlemore, setting his robes smoldering. He bounced off his Shield, and ungracefully rolled into the ground.

Suddenly, Turtillous appeared above him, from where he was lying. Fiddlemore felt a hot pain in his neck, as the vampire sunk teeth into his burnt flesh.

He convulsed, and fell unconscious.

The whites of his eyes glazed over [34], becoming pure silver, as his body grew cold. The wizard, Fiddlemore Whidix, had breathed his last.

## OOC

Character Sheet  as of level 3

Fiddlemore's theme song is Welcome to the Fire by Willyecho

### References

[1] Fiddlemore was of the Charlatan background, which allowed them the "False Identity" feature.

[2] Re-themed dancing lights.

[3] Turtilous cast Witch Bolt, which dealt a d12 of damage. Fiddlemore had a d6 hit die.

[4] They didn't.

[5] Turtillous has rolled poorly; however Fiddlemore's roll was much higher

[6] 23 to craft the leg using the barrel.

[7] Natsume had forgotten where she learned Infernal, and Fiddlemore did his best to cover up his demonic roots by agreeing with her.

[8] Nat 20 to capture the polymorphed Natsume, though it is unknown whether Fiddlemore knew the butterfly was Natsume. He probably did TBH.

[9] The gold in the hole was illusory. The test was to see if the party would break down and kill each other.

[10] Nat 20 Arcana.

[11] With a 21 Investigation, Fiddlemore determined that the coin was likely a fake. It was still warm when he received it.

[12] The end of session 2, and all of session 3 (everything that is collapsed) has been ret-conned.

[13] Infernal

[14] A nuclear bomb powered by magical cocaine

[15] The Skyrim intro

[16] Nat 20 on investigation

[17] At this time in the session, due to Fiddlemore heavily objecting to looting the tombs, a discussion of character motivations came up. To better align himself with the campaign promise, Tropingenie decided to to a classic “Nyhan Backpedal” and revoke Fiddlemore’s reluctance to tomb raiding

[18] Wand of Bestow Curse: 3 charges, regains 1d4 charges at dawn

[19] A variant on Flaming Sphere

[20] Fiddlemore paid out of pocket for those horses, around 60-80 gp if memory serves correct

[21] 22 charisma check, since Fiddlemore doesn’t have Persuasion as a skill

[22] William had a vision, and later cast Message

[23] The "relative peace" was due to the shenanigans of the rest of the party

[24] Two levels of exhaustion: disadvantage on ability checks, half move speed.

[25] He took a long rest, reducing his exhaustion to a single level: disadvantage on ability checks.

[26] 11 damage

[27] Nat 1, rebounding into Fiddlemore for 1 damage

[28] 19 + 5 deception, with ArchGM factoring in Fiddlemore’s Charlatan background, and illusion magic

[29] Fiddlemore’s trinket was a clockwork goldfish, inside a glass sphere of water

[30]14 levels worth of spell slots were spent on the spell

[31]More specifically, this song

[32] A wizard can use their familiar’s senses, at the expense of their own

[33] Recall that Fiddlemore had Detect Magic, Mage Armour, Disguise Self, and 10ft blindsense from spells and his familiar

[34] Fiddlemore had been using Thaumaturgy to keep his eyes normal looking. Upon his death, the spell ended and his eyes returned to their natural appearance (Tieflings have no distinction between the appearance of their pupils, iris, or sclera)