Chronicals of Xoth, Handful of Stars Session Report

The latest description of recent events of the campaign as described by Jaques, one of the PCs;

We flee from Khadar city and head into the hills. As we climb higher into the mountains, we come across a mixed column of militia and villagers, who are taking a young woman (Morgan) to a stone circle. After talking to a few of the villagers, we find out that the young woman is to be sacrificed to a demon hound, saving the lives of the other villagers.

We decide to get involved, so unable to fight the guards decide to head back to their village to gather more information. The village is called Hirot. The large man we saw leading the column is the Jarl of the village; he is worn but still a bear of a man, especially when clad in his armour and wolf pelt and he leads a small group of similarly armored men.

Heading into the somber village, we see that some of the buildings look to have been destroyed by something, and there are not a lot of people out in the streets, and the whole village seems to be under a cloud of despair. So we quickly make our way to the squat and solidly built Inn, The Sign of the Wolf Spear

The Inn is owned by a man called Brogan, who is also the father of Morgan . We ask the few tired patrons about the sacrifice and are told about a group of adventurers who came through several weeks ago, who claimed to be searching for the tomb of a mighty warlord named Ulfheonar. The tomb is shaped like a vast serpent and contains vast wealth and a mighty weapon of immense power. Those we talked to say that they must have failed and released the tomb's guardian, a demon hound, a hound that now stalks them. Nothing seems to be able to stop it, not walls, not guards, not the Jarl or the Priest. The hound was smashing its way into homes and ripping apart families and coating whole sections of the village in blood. None of those who attempted to fight back or track it survived.

The Jarl now hides in his hall along with what remains of his guard, and his seer Syliler Ru, the man who came up with the sacrifice draw. Some of the villagers hide in the Chapel with the insane Priest Beacom, who was driven to despair and thus madness. He now believes that the only salvation is through the mortification of the flesh. His chapel is now filled with people whipping themselves until the blood flows from their ragged backs, as the Priest has told them that only through their blood and suffering can the beast be appeased.

The Inn isn't the only place to stay, as there is a shelter called the Three Rats, which seems to be aptly named. So far, we have had no reason to go there, finding the Wolf Spear more to our tastes.

So, hearing the villagers' tales, we committed to helping them as much as we could, knowing that we would get no help from the broken Jarl. We began to make plans. We now know that the tomb is to the north of the village, whilst the demon dog heads to the swamps to the northeast after it's kills, and both may need to be investigated. The Priest is spoken to, but Beecom believes that only by the mortification of the flesh can the hound be stopped. As his god Justica has told him that this and the surrendering of all earthly wealth is the only way to wash away their sins and get her protection.

The ancient chapel has a beautiful stained glass window which shows Justica defeating this demon hound using a mighty warhammer. This hammer still exists but is kept in the chapel waiting for the worthy; the Priest will not use it nor will he let others. The Priest has two acolytes who help him guard the hammer and are half-crazed due to them constantly whipping themselves.

Genn stays at the Inn, gathering more information about the lottery, the Seer and the Priest and learns that some suspect that the hound is not a demon but rather a real creature trained by someone. When asked why someone would do this, he is told that scared people are easier to control and those who had the means to leave have left, leaving only the lost and desperate in the village awaiting their fate.

Jacques leaves in search of a large net and is told that the widow Yamay is the best weaver for miles around, and if anyone could make a net strong enough to hold the hound, it would be her. Knocking at her hut, he is met by an old crone, and it becomes quickly evident that she is much more than just an old woman. She knows a lot about the situation and tells Jacques that she can indeed make a net strong enough to hold the hound, but she will need something in return, and what she wants is a husband. Jacques is taken aback somewhat but agrees as he sees that she is old like him, and it wouldn't be a long marraige and he could end up with some money and a home. Also, if he survives the hound, the villagers and Jarl would surely be grateful. Yamay laughing gets up from in front of her fire and reaches up to the roof beams and begins to pull down withered heads. She removes the few strands of hair that still cling to their dead flesh and begins to turn the wheel, weaving the hair into a large net as a now worried Jacques looks on in horror.

Genn, meanwhile, has arranged to get some supplies, including a lot of flammable material and, more importantly, a few others who will help us fight this creature. He also manages to get us a way to leave the village after the gates are closed, as one of the Jarl's men who guards the gate is in love with Morgan, his daughter (the woman currently chained to one of the standing stones) and can be convinced to help. The young man's name is Nothan of the night watch.

The village adventure comes with a priest, so I needed to add a new go

JUSTICA, THE IRON SCALES God of the Susrahn Hillmen Origins & Nature Before the great river-cities of Susrahn rose their ziggurat temples to gods of grain and celestial fire, the hill clans of the interior highlands worshipped older, crueler powers. Justica is the eldest of these — not a god of justice as the civilized lowlanders might understand the word, but of primal reckoning: the inexorable settling of debts, the balancing of blood for blood, the grinding inevitability of consequence. He is imagined as a colossal figure carved from black mountain granite, his face expressionless and featureless save for two hollow pits where eyes should be. In one hand he holds a great set of scales fashioned from iron and bone. In the other, a flint-headed maul the size of a war-elephant. He does not pursue. He does not rage. He simply waits, and the scales always come level in the end. The hillmen say he was old when the world was young — that he watched the giant-kings raise their cyclopean fortresses and said nothing, knowing their ledger would one day balance. It did.