The Carrion Crown

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 22
The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 22

I am relieved to finally feel like I may actually be gaining some leverage on these ill meaning Necromancers, though I have yet to meet a well meaning Necromancer… perhaps there is a use for Necromantic magics to assist in rejoining loved ones, I believe I will have to look into this idea, but a a later point. The pathfinder was able to escort me to the town for which has a teleportation portal which will help me travel to cut off the courier. Ultimately, this will assist me in attaining the Raven’s Tongue, as I find out is a mace that assisted in vanquishing the Tyrant quite some time ago. However, there was a slight gift disguised as a curse that I had to encounter before I could use the portal.

As I approached the town at the base of the portal’s hill, though I am unsure a portal can hold claim to a town, or a hill, I realized that the entire force of the town was attending to a rather messy scene. Of course, with my keen knowledge of oddities and crimes, the overseeing office gladly allowed me to assist in the investigation, which was very fortuitous for him, as I am unsure that he would have had the stomach for solving what I witnessed as the perpetrator, a creature birthed of one of the Elder Gods of Mythos. Following a trail of slime, I was able to pinpoint the point of origin, for which the creature was summoned by a group of individuals seeking ultimate knowledge. Somehow, I feel they missed the clause of the ritual that stated that the creature must consume each of those whom summoned it, which seems to be a rather foolish mistake. In the room however, to my fortune, a very king ghoul was able to expound upon the nature of the ritual, and in no time, I was able to locate the surviving members of the ritual. Unfortunately, the Elder Gods’ return to our realm would manifest in mass hysteria and chaos, and this ritual is to bring about just that, so I was not left with any option but to stop the creature.

With haste, I exited and headed for the mental asylum, where one of the survivors would undoubtedly hold up, as he was the proprietor of the institution. I wished to ask those on the way if they had seen the invisible monster, but apparently the villagers here do not react well to outsiders, as they mostly ignored my questioning. Thankfully, it was easy to tell by the live psychiatric patients still strapped to the walls that I was before the creature, otherwise these men would have been slaughtered. I was able to locate a guard, who had informed me that the proprietor was in fact on the third floor holding out for the creature, so I rushed to join him. Unfortunately, I must have fallen into the trap he set for the beast, and was forced to incinerate the man’s creature, meant to bodyguard him, but luckily I was in time to offer myself as a worthy stand in.

No sooner did we meet than the creature started to come, and I must say that the image of that beast, if looked upon with the ability to see through its invisibility, will stick with me forever. The books sang to me of their appearance, but there are not words in any tongues to do this grotesqueness justice. It became apparent that the beast was going to be quite a tough battle, and so an alternate strategy was required. Instead f felling the creature, a binding spell was placed on it instead. One for which allowed me to ask of it one request in exchange for another. the best part of the spell is that, once complete, the creature is automatically returned to it’s plane. The trick of this bargain was in the wording and favor asked, as I did not want for the creature to finish it’s task and attempt to finish our battle. I asked of it the one thing that truly was necessary of a creature of these talents; that it hunt down the second courier that holds the other pieces of the ritual to bring about the Whispering Tyrant, and that it demolish those items. With him after those items, and me after the Raven’s Tongue, it puts these poor Necromancers in quite a bad spot. Should the beast fail, however, it merely means that it has been taken care of and I did not have to struggle further and waste yet more precious time.

In return, all it asked was to return a mirror of it’s god to the original realm, which I can easily do atop the hill I came for in the first place. I found this Shaggoth to be quite reasonable, actually, and if I should find myself in the future, I should remember how reasonable these creatures are, as the deal was quite preferable to yet another battle and incineration. Now, with haste, I must be off to gather this Raven’s Tongue. These relics must all be destroyed, and I fear more Mythos are to present themselves, as this mace was lost at sea, but the Elder God Cthulu is quite the seafaring type, as it reads.

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 21
The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 21

As I exited the building, knowing there were more to battle ahead of me, I was pleased to hear the garish howl of the werewolves. It seems all five factions have banded together to try to aide against these Necromancers. All throughout the town, they were chasing the skeletons as a dog would chase a bone, or as a bone would chase a dog, though a bone would never be able to chase a dog, unless a Necromancer were to resurrect said bone, and it were inclined or forced to chase the dog, though it was a werewolf. The chaos was fascinating, and I wish that I had the opportunity to sit on the hill I had entered on and watch the patterns of the battle, to assess better battle flow strategy of these base warriors. Unfortunately, I still had one last, master Necromancer to dispose of. The leader has been held up in that tower, and it is the last place to clear out, and so I set out.

Inside the tower, not even locked, it was exactly as I would have expected. There were a number of very intricate details on the human anatomy and of vivisection, as well as test subjects easily viewable. In my opinion, this Necromancer would have served as a great surgeon, were he not preferable to things already dead. Within an urn on the far side of the room, I was able to locate the werewolf pack leader’s heart, or at least a heart, or at least half of a heart, but those around me were pretty sure somehow that it belonged once to the werewolf. I suppose I could have tested the blood of the heart for Lycanthropy, but I was unable to bother with any tests before the Necromancer’s leader began to talk from above. He was offering a partnership of some sorts, but already my mind was focused on a strategy of attack, knowing that I would not follow in the line of those spurned from deals with the whispering way.

The Necromancer must have sensed that I was not interested in his inevitable betrayal, as he eventually gave up and summoned a number of skeletons to attack. They were without a doubt very advanced summons, but than again my formulas are advanced in their own right, and the skeletons burned easily. After I had cleared the area of skeletons, I immediately recognized the spell hovering on the stairs as Cloudkill. On my behalf, the tower was in ill repair, so a slight bit of flight got me to his floor without even needing the stairs to advance. On his behalf, however, his flight was much swifter than mine, and as soon as I appeared, he had taken off. I had almost thought that the battle was won yet again, as these whispering way have become known to me for their cowardice, but shortly thereafter spells began to manifest, spells I recognize as having to require line of sight. Greater Invisibility is a fantastic spell, but easily trumped by a keen mind and a potion of see invisibility, thus his hand was tipped in my favor. I was able to bombard him with quite a few bombs before he struck me with… something.

When I came to, the Necromancer was vanquished. His journal was found, but it only spoke of ill portents; a Necromancer was shuttling the other half of the heart, the skull, and the Warden’s soul off to the throne of the Whispering Tyrant, and a separate envoy was off to trade the missing statue of Cthulu for a “Raven’s Tongue”. It was determined by this that they are but mere steps from summoning the Whispering Tyrant, and I was yet again behind. Thankfully, just outside, the Pathfinder was chronicling the battle within the town and the the crown of a new werewolf leader.. or heart-eating, as it were. Again, I would like to state the barbaric nature of this ritual, and the unsanitary nature of the presented cannibalism within this base ritual. The Pathfinder, as it turned out, knew of a path that would be able to catch the envoy with the statue, though I am unaware as to if he actually found this path himself. The catch of this statue, or of anything ultimately leading to the “Raven’s Tongue” would be quite a tide turner within this chase, and I quite need to gather this key aspect.

Now, forethought dictates that there may be a bi of an issue with being in possession of the missing piece of the resurrection of the Whispering Tyrant, as it would make me quite a target, but I feel that I must do this nonetheless, or all will be lost. Perhaps there are those out there that will be willing to offer aide in the protection or destruction of this Tongue, should I be able to acquire it.

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 20

Against my better judgement, a few other individuals that will also be storming this town with me decided on a different plan, stating that they did not wish to burn in a tower if it were set ablaze. I had to ponder how much Alchemist’s fire it would take to set the stones of a tower ablaze, but all the same I must agree that I do not wish to decipher my individual boiling point. Instead, I had decided to hide out in the more intact buildings of the town that the old fire had not seemed to get to, providing that there were no haunts already hiding within them, as many of these buildings seem to have.

The first few Necromancers fell fairly easily, and it seemed that their undead hordes were not able to thwart the attack. Easily, I was able to kill the undead, or destroy the already dead… perhaps re-create the re-dead of the undead. I was especially curious as to the creation of some larger Troll-like undead beasts that I do not recall, offhand, the name of. these beasts were particularly ferocious, and I found their tenacity to be quite impressive, if not for being on the end of their ire.

Near the end of the sneaky assault…can an assault, by definition, be sneaky? Near the end, I started to feel as there was no longer a point in hiding, as the necromancers started to get wise to their loss of brethren, but even through this I managed to clear out all Necromancers from the town’s streets. There was humor to be found in the truth that, because Whispering Way acolytes distort their vocals to only a whisper, the necromancers were actually incapable of screaming for assistance as I felled them. I can think of no practical intentions behind this alteration of their own bodies besides the inability to communicate, call for assistance, or blend into normal society, which seems like a most ridiculous ritual. The hordes of skeletons were actually only forced to stand in place, making them easily destroyable.

Currently, there is only one known Necromancer left, hiding out in the tower. He appears to be the leader of the operation that I destroyed here, leaving only him to deal with. I am currently gathering my breath before storming this man as well. I have mentioned before how exciting this adventuring is, and how much fun it is to be able to explore what I know in theory. I would like, after this messy business is concluded, to see if the physiology of a Whispering Way is altered beyond just their throats.

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 19

After my return to this plane, I deliberated with the werewolves on hand about their politics, yet again. It seemed strange to me that they would be so very adamant about this ancient heart ritual that they would bow to any man, even if they took the heart outside of werewolf territory and disgraced everything they meant. I suppose they assume that if someone unworthy eats this heart, than they can kill that man, but if the heart remains uneaten, then there will never be a leader proper. I tried talking reason into them, possibly electing a board of leaders from the tribes, but it appears that, even though they all seek peace, none of them are willing to extend their necks, as it were, to make that peace happen. Their bottom line is, eat a heart, gain their respect… which is every bit as barbaric as it sounds.

The only useful piece of information that was gained was that the demon-werewolf clan was already en route to the nearest village, well, not the nearest, but the nearest village that has necromancers, well, the nearest one that was recently invaded by my necromancers, not that I have any necromancers. I set off post haste to attempt to cut them off, as I cannot consider any positive outcomes of the combination of demon-werewolves and necromancers, but at this I found I had a great deal of trouble, as my wagon is not meant for any off-trail adventures. It was quite a surprise to find out that after my haste, and inability to overcome the obstacles, I came out ahead of the creatures. Thus ensued, as these barbaric creatures would always do, a combat. I was prepared, however, with silver pellet grenades, and once the leader was felled, the rest snapped in line.

We only had to go a little ways further to see a wonderful sight, thousands of undead raised from the corpses of this village! Of course, this posed a problem to me, as the necromancer’s next ingredient is a skull fashioned from a multitude of dead, so I had to devise a plan to stop the production of this. There are around seven necromancers, and the murder of any of them or their undead in town would send up a horribly outnumbering alert, so it was deduced that a stealth assassination was in order. Naturally, the most heavily guarded and secluded place, a tower, is where the leader is held up. He seems only to come out every so often to present whatever it is he is finding, but the time in between his appearances gives the best window of opportunity. He will be my first target, and from there, I plan to establish a base of operations to commit the rest to death, hopefully quietly. I am not often one for stealth, or assassination, or necromancers, or even unpaved roads, but this surely will be for a purpose worthy of exceeding my comfort zone.

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 18

I must say, the politics of werewolves is very drab and primal, and I don’t much care for it. To start, I have been camping out in the woods for quite some time now, after discovering that the only lodge around is not of my favor, and I am longing for a good night’s sleep. At least when I was conducting Leopold’s trials, I always had a warm inn to return to. It was decided that another look into the lodge’s library was necessary, and that the werewolves needed to be aware of the treachery the lodge has been party to. With these in mind, I merely met up with one of the tribes and told them everything they wanted to know; that the knowledge of where the heart is hidden was in the library of the lodge, and that the lodge has been meddling where it should not have been. This was enough to send them into an inevitable betrayal on me, and attack the lodge, ransacking the library for the information I wanted. Luckily, I neglected to mention that the library with any useful information would have been the Warden’s secret one, for which the all but overlooked. In the chaos, I was able to slip easily in and out, learning that the Warden holds 2 of the three pieces of a moth puzzle, used to enact a ritual at the “stairs to the moon” to speak with a God.

All signs pointed to the temple, and I knew all of the remaining need of this woods lie within, so I made haste. There, the Warden attempted to stop me, but his efforts were in vain. Thanks to him, however, I now held all three pieces of the moth-puzzle. It seems all so very convoluted and rushed in hindsight to myself, but I recall meeting with the former werewolf leader on top of the temple, battling briefly, and watching him fall as brutally as he had risen. I then used the Moth, and was transported to a strange land.

I am aware that occasionally, I may seem to be muttering what, to an outward man, may seem gibberish, though I would never mutter gibberish, as I always have more pressing matters to attend than nonsense. However, this city, if you can call it that, stretched the limits of even my imagination. Foreign races and species lived beside a multitude of abstract building and sights. Not for a long time now have I felt so under-informed of my surroundings as I did here. There I met a God, who was pleased that I had assisted in the slaughter of the werewolf leader, and granted me some insight. It was a wonderful feeling, meeting a God. too often faith begs for blindness, but a tangible meeting will solidify reality quite soundly for myself.

There is now only a matter of attending to the whispering way, which seems to be quite easily collecting a recipe for raising the whispering tyrant. This, or course, I cannot abide, and so I must now venture due East to find their trail. I now have the necessaries of their ritual, which will guide me to their next item of interest. Hopefully this will give me the upper hand as to catching, rather than chasing, them.

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 17

The trip to the lodge was a short one, only impeded by one dead body, and not even one I had to kill. Apparently this was a dead werewolf that was killed by one of the lodge-members I had the pleasure of meeting. When I arrived at the lodge I was unjustly denied entrance by a horrible man, who denied the claim of my writ from the judge.

As I stood at the gate of the lodge, the huntsman and a traveler began their hunt, and as luck would have, they wanted me… not to hunt of course, but to hunt with, because they would never hunt a human, though they were in fact looking for werewolves, which I suppose are quite or mostly human. None the less, I am not a werewolf. On the hunt, I soon found that this traveler was not well versed, as he wore the fur of a wolf and declared it werewolf skin. Of course, were that the case the moment the werewolf was skinned the pelt would revert to flesh, which would make for an awkward vest. On this note, why is it that men can wear the skin of all other creatures, but become shy to the idea of human flesh, what really is one skin over another, as they would provide the same level of protection? That evening, the huntsman left again for the lodge, and I stayed with the traveler, who promised me entry into the lodge on his behalf, for which would be quite useful, and irrefutable by that nasty majordomo. Anyhow, in the middle of the night, after much brandy, the traveler got spooked and ran from the camp, allowing me entry to the lodge.

My stay at the lodge was brief, as the necromancer I was chasing had obviously left, so there wasn’t much reason to search there, except to find where they had gone next. I spent the evening and morning understanding if any of the other guests had any ties, only to find my biggest clue in the most reliable of places, the library. A very knowledgeable book about the Whispering way yielded a bookmark referring to a book upstairs; in a one floor library. This made me quite curious, and I was offered assurances by the warden that he was of my assistance, so I went to visit him. The warden, however, seemed to shy away from knowledge of the note, and immediately dismissed it as folly, but not after glancing awkwardly at a set of stairs in his office.

Quite cleverly, I devised a plan to have the majordomo open the door for delivery of an inconsequential note I dictated, and slipped in under an invisibility potion. The ruse was up all too quick though, as I was not prepared for traps on the stairs. I did overhear some curiosities however, as the warden and the majordomo decided to take the time to converse over everything regarding their betrayal to me and assistance to the Necromancers. I then went to a man at the lodge who appeared to be quite sneaky and asked for his help, someone I feel I’ve seen before. It mattered not, as it appeared the lodge had spider issues, spiders that happen to be over a story tall. After dispatching the foul beast, I was very unceremoniously ushered out of the lodge. I, however, forgive the nature of this, as I learned that the werewolves must be collapsing in on this lodge, and it was feared that all in attendance would fall with the building.

All things within this wood, including the involvement of the Whispering Way, seemed to revolve around this ascension of the leader of the werewolves, a ceremony involving stairs and the moon. The stairs are an ancient temple the werewolves seemed to have taken to, and the moon is most likely symbolic of the moon, which I suppose makes sense. I was read a harrow reading by one of the other evacuees of the lodge that stated that I would encounter one who is many, as a family, for who I will recognize by it’s screaming head. Apparently I would have to find one fallen from grace to use as a sword. Divinations have always confounded me, as they are not in the slightest scientific, and can offer no measurable and decisive knowledge. The vague messages can be open to interpretation, as a test without a base reading. I can only wildly stab at what this face changing, screaming beast may be, or this man I must wield as a sword, for whom I most likely will not even be able to lift. None the less, I am a man of massive brilliance, and I know that I must go to this temple. If I happen across anything that may sound as this portent, I am confident that I will be able to suss out the meaning of my own.

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 16

As I concluded the saving of the Ex-Duke, he died. This was following some very strange events that concluded the explosion of his laboratory, threats of misuse against Leopold, and a gigantic patchwork spider. Suffice to say, I am a bit blurry on the details, but I do recall that the mechanism on the roof got it in its mind to over-store electricity, which is how one attains the resultant. The fact of it all remains, This Duke allowed in the Necromancers of the Whispering Way, and they used him and locked him away, which is honestly polite for the sorts of which he consorted.

A brief foray in town to better equip myself, and we followed the Ex-Duke’s leads to a forest, or a bridge within a forest, or a show on a bridge within a forest, to be exact. I had suspicions about these woods being overrun with werewolves, and it turns out there are indeed quite a few in here, though they are much more hospitable then I originated, unless they call you to a death’s dual. That being said, they insisted that this Demon was their leader, and for that they had to kill her. I admit that in matters such as tribal rites and exterior intervention I am not too well versed on werewolves’ lore, but the just of it is this; if you happen to be the reincarnation of their prince, then they all follow you… signified by some scratched that make a symbol on your back. Should you end up being this “Prince of Wolves”, you will find that you must defeat the leader for your rite, even if you do not want that rite. Unfortunately, the entire show was mute, as a necromancer from across the gorge cast a fireball forth into the festivities.

With that being said, apparently you may also save the former leader from an external catastrophic death to gain the same rites due. All very rudimentary, I believe. The werewolves are now assisting me, luckily in locating these Necromancers, and I should think its only a matter of time before these misguided casters are taken down, I believe there is a quote about not messing with a pack of wolves…, yes, rather fortuitous on my behalf.

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 15

The deeper I venture into this castle, the more I become quite intrigued in what I find, though I must confess that the organization leaves something to be desired. For a start, I am not quite sure I would hold a number of exotic creatures in a lousy wooden crate, unless I were anticipating their inevitable escape, nor would I hold a living mummy in an insecure sarcophagus. As it was, however, apparently myself and the Duke did not see eye to eye on these matters, and I was forced to put these creatures down. The castle was rather empty, eerily so, and aside from some rather diabolically laid out silos, I found nothing of note.

When I Set out back, the large lightning rod struck my eye, not literally thankfully, and I knew where the flesh golems were being created. I was thankful to find that the giant golem modeled after a six armed gorilla was too tangled in spider webs to attack. In the end, I had located the Duke, but he appears to be rather uncomfortably secured in an Iron Maden. I am standing here currently, looking for what course of action is best…. we shall see.

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 14

As luck should never cease, no sooner did I find my time freed up than I was summoned to the Judge’s house for a dinner. She, just as suspected, was interested in me clearing up the mess at the ex-Duke’s house. It is quite humorous that human nature is so predictable, and that the color of every human is just as easily depicted as anyone who is really looking would imagine, thought of course I do not mean their skin color, nor any other physical color, but the color of their nature, should someone have the need to see a nature, though not that of nature itself, which would be green… of colorless, as water is not a color, but essential to nature… I digress.

As simply as anyone could state it, the local authorities could not possibly hold any sway over the ex-Duke, for his position, but I am not bound to the same jurisdiction. I set off post-haste to the Keep, which had a breathtaking location on a series of towers completely over a gorge. The ex-Duke’s company, however, is nowhere as tasteful as his real estate, as he guarded his entrance with Trolls, Troll Hounds, and Goblins. An interesting saying, “tasteful”, as visual or social preferences hold no semblance to the sense of taste. These base creatures were not too tough to disperse, but the ease of entering this Keep stopped here. A trap, sprung on the bridge, would prove much more difficult, as a gigantic wind elemental was summoned to the sole purpose of, I assume, blowing me off of the bridge! My initial impression of felling the creature was assuaged with the difficulty of that task, so, battling gusts and tornadoes, I merely slipped beyond it and entered past it’s binding.

The main house was well upkept, and beyond the Mythos-based creation that had to be dismissed in the entry way, calm. I checked the full of the building, but was unable to locate anything fully of note. One portrait alone offered clues, but only cryptically, depicting creatures in the background of the Duke’s profile.

The next building was a great alchemical laboratory, or at least it would have been, were it not for the gigantic explosion that has wracked every beaker and structural integrity within. Well, that and the rust monsters. I for one do not enjoy the heft of metal objects at large, and so was not the target of their hunger, but there was quite a commotion otherwise, as even these beasts hold quite more than I can exterminate. Matters were worse, as a hasty flight triggered a trap, releasing a full on Deamon to hunt me down! I have retreated to the main building, and hid under the Duke’s bed to avoid this Deamon, in hopes of waiting out it’s summoning. Nothing quite passes the time of cowering like a good journal.

The Log of Dr. Joston Elveret, Entry 13

Today was most eventful! As I approached the Alchemist’s House, a great Flesh-Dog leaped out to greet me. As much as I did not want to upset the beast or it’s unique nature, it simply posed a logical threat. The beast is bound to do as it is told, and it was told to prevent me, and so I had to dispatch it. Therein, it took no time at all to find the bodies, not of the creatures I’ve dispatched, but of the people who have been dispatched without my doing, though they were in fact no longer doing, as it were. Secret compartments throughout the complex stored yet more cadavers for the lucrative human body trafficking. As well, tucked in the very back of the house, was a neat little dresser full of skins. Clearly, I had located the skin walker I had been hunting as well. To top things off, I had even located a missing demographic that was enslaved by this skin walker to work here. The only missing items were the winged flesh golem, the statue of Cthulu, Leopold’s father, and the Necromancers; all of which I am sure are to be located in a castle to the Northeast.

In lieu of all of our findings, and the flesh walker being in a coffin, though he is not dead, I just put him in a convenient coffin, though his skin is dead, the judges dismissed all but the 9 accounts of Involuntary Manslaughter against Leopold, for which he had rightly been party to. The sentence, however, was truly just, and he was given exile from Lepstadt, a place I do not think he intended to stay anyhow. I had walked him out, and gathered the Circus to take him in, for which I feel he will be justly placed. Instead of Leopold, Lepstadt has a dead body smuggling ring, a crazed alchemist, a skin walker, and a plethora of Necromancers still at large to deal with. I should think that were every town so seedy, no man could remain civilized.

In light of all of this, the good Professor’s daughter is to leave town, the wrongfully accused is free, the town, nay TWO towns in peril are eased, and I am wealthier in knowledge then I have ever been, having been able to apply my knowledge to real-life scenarios. I find that I am free to return to my laboratory, and though the sweet smell of fermentation calls to my longing palate, I can get by with my traveling laboratory for now. I do not know what is next to come, but I am rather bitten by the bug of wanderlust, and I am rather enjoying my travels, so long as nothing so perilous occurs. Perhaps I shall seek down the perpetrator of the statue theft, and delve into more of this new Mythos history. The great tales told to me from that book were wondrous, and I should like to hear more. As I understand, this old God of the sea was but one of many, and I wish to teach myself of this pantheon. I suppose only time shall tell.


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