A second series of random DnD Adventures: The Last Initiate
 

Your party has traveled for several weeks now, passing through very rugged wilderness. The mountains that rise about you are carpeted thick, deep forests of yew, pine and ash. As if the steep terrain was not enough, an impassable undergrowth of laurel has hindered your travel, often making you travel far afield of your chosen path. Cold, swift moving rivers pass through the many valleys you travel.

Upon the banks of a swift moving river, you see bits of bone and metal protruding from the mud. Upon closed examination, the bones are found to be rib bones, and the metal to be the remains of armor, mostly rusted armor that is.

The body appears to have been that of a human in chain armor. A large, flint spear head lies within its rib cage. A rusted iron gear hangs on an equally rusted chain around his neck. The tattered remains of a leather pouch are buried in the mud. Several gold coins are visible.

Amongst the bony remains rests a bone scroll case. The foot long bone tube has stood up well against the waters of the river. Its' end still bears a bone stopper held tightly in place by a wax seal. The seal bears a strange glyph, a toothed wheel.

Violet eyes narrowed down as a fair face creased in a frown. Mizashka stepped forward cautiously along the riverbank, her elegant body hindered only slightly by a backpack upon her shoulders and the quiet clink of her chainshirt. She crossed the distance quickly and knelt by the decayed corpse, dark blue hair swinging down in a braid.

She blinked once, twice, then...

Her eyes changed colour, shifting from those exotic purple to a deep black-red (detect magic activated, focused on the bone tube). Upon the certainty that there was nothing that could possibly be unleashed magically, Mizashka reached over and picked up the tube with her gauntlets. She examined it carefully.

"Hey, Lex! Come and see."

Carefully breaking the sealing wax, Mizashka took the care to shake the tube to and fro for a moment. What was within sounded like nothing but dust scrapings. She opened it and tipped its contents into her gauntleted hand.

The seal opens with a pop and a swoosh of dusty air. Inside is a well preserved roll of parchement. Unrolled, the sheet reveals a note and a crude map that appear to have been scribed on a prayer sheet.

(These are the parchement.)
http://www.sithdarth.spatchcock.net/Handout1.png
http://www.sithdarth.spatchcock.net/Handout2.png

Lex walked calmly over to the riverbank and took a place next to Mizashka and leaned on his dark, ornate cane. His long fingers plucked the parchment from her hands, and brought it before his olive eyes.

Flipping the paper over with a flutter, Lex let out a musing sigh. "It seems..." he began, slowly, "that this... 'Artificer' is some sort of God. Intriguing..."

Lex fell silent for a moment before continuing.

"Well... as much as I do want to see precisely what this is... judging from the state of the corpse, I think the keep of this 'Artificer' must have fallen a while ago. Though... there may yet be something left untouched by the Orcs."

"Right. Judging from this map, we can follow the river and get there easy." Jericho said. He walked over camly, and bent down, scooping up the 15 gold from the mud. "Kinda don't think he will be needing this." Jericho said as he got back up.

"Shall we be on our way?"

Mizashka's eyes returned back to normal as she stood up, stretched her arms above her head langurously.

"Yeah, let's move on. Staying near an unsanctified grave-" here Mizashka mentally poked Jericho of his priestly past "- is not the safest thing to do. Having a source of water as we travel is not a bad idea."

"What? You act like I was just going to leave here without saying something." Jericho said. He closed his eyes, and muttered under his breath a quick prayer. For those that could understand Celestial, it was the same stuff you heard at the funeral. Good man, sorry for his lost, guide his soul in peace, yadayadayada. "Now, unless you want to spend some time burying him, shall we be on our way?"

Lex stretched a bit, eyes locked somewhat distantly on the swiftly rippling water.

"Yes... I do think it would be best to move on. I would be interested to find the keep as soon as possible. I would be interested in getting to the keep as quickly as possible."

"Well then," Cliff finally chimed in, "let us continue our journey friends." Taking the lead Cliff followed the path as it wound along the river. Due to the recent spring thaw, the rivers are running faster, deeper and colder than usual. As you approach what appears to have once been a ford, you see that the river has overrun its banks, spreading out to a 30 foot width. The cold mountain water that passes before you is roughly four feet in depth. You can see the trail continue off the opposite bank.

Stopping just short of the near bank Cliff thought for a few minutes. "Well unless you guys want to risk being swept away I suggest we some how attach a rope to both banks and use it cross. Any ideas on how to best get it over there?"

Mizashka stared at the rushing waters, and felt Arc give an empathic shudder.

"Rushing water... I hate rushing waters," she muttered under her breath as she adjusted her pack. Swinging the pack down to rest on the earth, she flipped open the large compartment and grabbed the silken rope nestling atop everything else, she tossed it at the others' feet.

"I've got the rope, but I don't have anything to tie it to, or how to bring it across the river. Arc would protest greatly if I asked him to go anywhere near this."