The Caves of Inharmonious Discord Part 3: Gunjar's Final Word

After a few days of rest and quiet talk, Ginjo and Gunjar made a decision: they would strike again before returning to Pasar. If they left now, some companions might not return. But there were still at least two bakemono dens they hadn’t touched—and the deeper threat was still out there.

So they set out together—Ginjo, Gunjar, and their surviving allies. Sukh and Sentra came too, but stayed back as rearguard, setting up a watching post inside the canyon to guard the main party’s retreat. Or, if the main party didn’t return, they’d know what to do.

The assault began early, on a cave lay high on the southern cliffs. Inside, they met a strange and fearsome group of bakemono: lean and long-limbed, with faces like mangy cats or clever, hungry dogs. Their weapons were long spears with cruel barbs. Their laughter echoed off the walls—manic and mocking—and they fought as if indifferent as to whether it was them or their enemies who died.

The heroes surprised a group during a meal. Gunjar called down divine silence, and within moments the creatures were overwhelmed, tied up, and disarmed. The party crept past a sleeping chamber—rows of skeletal bakemono sprawled on mats—and burst into their chief’s hall.

The fight was fierce. The chief and his bodyguards fought with wild, high-pitched howls. Ginjo took a wound to the side. One of the monks nearly lost his arm. But when the chief fell, the others surrendered. Again, Gunjar insisted that these monsters should be allowed to surrender; the party bound them and began to regroup.

That’s when they heard the knocking.

From behind a wooden door came the noise—bakemono calling out, knocking, not hostile but persistent in claiming they needed to present an offering to the chief. Gunjar wanted to rest, to heal the injured. But the knocking continued, louder and louder. The party decided to ignore them, wait for silence, then make a break for the exit.

They followed this plan—but it soon fell apart.

They silently left the chief’s chamber and then crept through the hallway toward the entrance—and into an ambush. A group of bakemono with bows and crossbows stepped out of hidden alcoves and opened fire. At the same time, a squad of spear-wielders charged from a side room. Ginjo rushed the archers. Gunjar blocked the charge.

Both leaders held the line—but the hallway was narrow and chaotic. A few bakemono slipped past them and reached the center of the party.

Then came salvation.

Sentra and Sukh, sensing the delay, had entered the cave. They found the bakemono bowmen from behind, cut one down, and shouted to draw the rest. It worked. Ginjo seized the moment, rallying the others. “Move!” he shouted. “Get to the exit!”

They ran.

Sid, one of the monks, was caught in the flank and gored by a spear. He went down, bleeding out fast. Gunjar turned back, drove the bakemono off with a furious strike of his staff, and knelt beside his friend. His hands glowed gold. Sid stirred. He lived.

Gunjar pulled Sid to his feet and shoved him toward the exit, and stood before the final wave— three gaunt and slavering bakemono with axes and long spears. They saw Gunjar alone and wounded, and they struck. He stood his ground. He fell under them.

Ginjo led the retreat, fighting through the last bakemono to reach the mouth of the cave and usher the others out, with Sukh bringing up the rear. The canyon air hit them like wind on fire. As soon as they reached the air, the always unpredictable Sentra was gone—vanishing alone into the hills. “Let him go,” Irak, said, “the two-fold path always returns and if we stays on it, that’s where we will meet him.”

They regrouped at the base of the cliffs. Everyone had wounds. Some could barely walk.

Sukh looked around, then said, “Gunjar… I used to think he was just odd. But he never hurt anyone. He always walked toward danger. And now he's gone.”
He sheathed his blades. “Let’s get back to camp.”

---

The Jungle Trial

That was easier said than done. Gunjar had known the trails best. Sukh led them up and over the ridge, but they ended up in a swamp. They turned around, cut their way through a thicket, and found themselves in deep forest as the sun began to set.

They pushed on. Swords and parangs cut through hanging vines. Then Arif, one of the quiet monks, cried out—his sword caught on a strange, glossy vine. He tried to free it. The vine pulled back. Sticky. Elastic. Not a vine.

Spiders, the size of cats, dropped from the branches. One bit Arif on the neck before anyone rea
ched him. His friends cut it down, drove the other off. But Arif was shaking. The poison took him before they could stop it.

They didn’t find their old camp. Instead, they made a new one: a bare clearing beneath the stars. No fires. No tents. Some slept. Some just waited for dawn.

---

Return to Pasar

The next day, they followed the Rowche Valley trail and returned to Pasar.

Howzaa, last of the farmers, spoke first. “I’ll guard my village,” he said. “But I’m done with these caves. You’re welcome in my home, any time. But I won’t go back.”

The monks split.

• Bagus and Cahya were blunt. Ginjo was brave, but reckless. He chased glory, not balance. They were done.
• Sid, the one Gunjar had saved, quietly joined Sukh. “I don’t know why Gunjar fought the bakemono,” he said. “But I trust him. And if you’re going back, I will too.”
• Irak, a soft-spoken but fierce monk, pulled Ginjo aside. “There’s something darker in that canyon,” she said. “The others don’t see it. But I do. I believe in you.”

Sheng and Shek, the mercenaries, were loyal. Ginjo had saved them. And the Silk Guild still paid well. “Better than guarding caravans,” Shek grunted.

Ginjo and Sukh looked at what was left. They could lead this group. But they needed more than fighters.

They needed a mystic.

That’s when they met Pana.

A stranger from the west, he wore rough robes over fine armor. He was from the west, but did not adhere to the One Law, instead claiming to carry secret wisdom. Two silent acolytes followed him. He listened to Ginjo’s tale, nodded once, and smiled.

“I have seen mysteries that you may never see,” Pana said. “But I know evil when I see it. I’ve seen things like your bakemono before. Sometimes killing is the answer.”

And so he joined them.

The Caves of Inharmonious Discord Part 2: Helter-Skelter

After leaving the lair of the red-tusked bakemono, Gunjar and Ginjo had a new vantage point. From their height above the canyon floor, they spotted other cave mouths—higher, deeper, darker.

When they returned, they chose a new one to explore. Outside it, they found a broken shield and a scattering of copper yuan. The shield was split along the grain, its strap snapped clean through.

They stepped inside. Almost immediately, something felt wrong. The air pressed on them strangely, and the path twisted in ways that didn’t make sense. The deeper they went, the worse it got. Gunjar tried to map the tunnels, but after a few turns, he staggered and vomited.

Then came the light—dim and red, flickering against the cavern walls. They followed it, not sure why, until they found the source: a scuttle of dog-sized beetles, their swollen glands glowing around scythe-like mandibles.

The sight was horrific. But Ginjo didn’t flinch. He drew his sword and gave the word to advance.

Behind him came a half-dozen others—some local farmers, including Liu-Po, and a few monks trained in the sohei tradition. The farmers were unarmed or carried tools; they weren’t meant for battle. The monks moved with discipline, but this was something new.

The beetles were fierce. Their shells turned aside even clean strikes. And they were clever. Two climbed the cavern walls and dropped from above—straight onto Liu-Po. He screamed. They tore him apart before anyone could reach him.

Gunjar shouted a warning and called on his spirits. Ginjo cut down the beetle that killed Liu-Po. The others scattered, retreating into cracks and crevices.

The fight was over. But the cost had been too high.

Shaken, Gunjar declared the cave cursed and ordered a retreat. They gathered what was left of Liu-Po. Ginjo took the lead, lantern in hand.

The tunnels twisted again. It felt like they were being led downward. But then, ahead—daylight. A faint breeze. They walked faster.

At camp, they buried Liu-Po. Gunjar said a few words. No long speech. Just truth: Liu-Po had come when asked. He had held the line.

And now he was gone.

The Caves of Inharmonious Discord Part 1: "Other things . . ."

Dramatis Personae

Ginjo – A self-exiled warrior from the Zhou Empire. Level-headed and dependable, with a growing reputation as a local leader. Co-runs a Rowche tea shop in Pasar. Known for his cool command under pressure.

Gunjar – A white shaman from the Land of the Five Fires. Practices an older, spirit-driven tradition separate from the monastic Two-Fold Path. Merciful, mystical, and unsettlingly powerful when the spirits speak through him.

Sukh – A fellow exile from the Valley of the Five Fires. A rugged fighter and sometime rival to Gunjar. Though he declined to join the first temple raid, Sukh has stood by Ginjo since their joint investigation into the Black Flowers. He prefers action to ritual, and carries the weight of unspoken battles.

Sentra – A disciplined monk of the Monastery of the Two-Fold Path. Speaks little, observes much. Occasionally travels beyond monastery walls when duty demands. Respected by both peasants and monks.

Howzaa & Li Po – Rowche farmers turned reluctant adventurers. Survivors of the temple raid, now part of the expedition's vanguard.

Shek & Sheng – Former caravan guards, rescued from bakemono captivity. Now armed, armored, and loyal to Ginjo’s leadership.

---

Into the Caves

A few months had passed since the battle at the temple. Ginjo and Gunjar had returned to Pasar as quiet heroes, but it was the Rowche farmers who carried the most urgent news. The bakemono had not disappeared—they had multiplied.

At first, it was small things: tracks near burned ground, vanished animals, unearthed graves. Then came raids—on livestock, on carts, on lone travelers. The bakemono no longer acted as isolated bands but as a growing force. Their movements pointed to one place: a slot canyon, little more than a narrow tear in the hills, riddled with caves. Old farmers called it a place of ghosts—once a hermitage for monks, now twisted by something deeper and crueler. Dark tunnels leading to still darker places of disharmony, corruption, and discord. Or, as some would say, chaos.

Howzaa and Li Po, braver than most, followed the trails. What they saw—crude symbols, bones, flickering fires—was enough to send them back to Pasar, pale and resolute.

Ginjo and Gunjar answered the call. With the monks of the Two-Fold Path, they recruited a handful of warriors and volunteers, including Howzaa and Li Po. Their goal: not defense, but purification. They would strike into the canyon and root out the bakemono before their corruption spread any further.

They chose to enter through a low cavern mouth on the southern wall, half-hidden by vines and shadow. The air inside was still and damp. Within moments, the party encountered their first foes: half a dozen blue-green, pointy-eared bakemono, the same kind that had desecrated the temple. But this time, the heroes held the advantage—discipline, courage, and steel.

Ginjo led the charge. Gunjar invoked the spirits. The bakemono, caught off guard, were overwhelmed.

Deeper in, they found a cramped chamber made to resemble a throne room, pitiful in its pomp. A larger bakemono sat there, fanged and howling. He commanded his underlings to attack—only for Gunjar to step forward and deliver a scathing sermon, condemning them for their cruelty. The spirits answered. The air grew thick. The bakemono collapsed. Most would never rise again. But there were a few who rose and fled screaming, horrified by their own wickedness. 

The group pressed on, ascending narrow stairs and winding tunnels. The deeper they went, the stronger the resistance: larger bakemono, better-armed and less easily cowed. Still, Ginjo’s leadership held them together. Gunjar tended wounds with quiet devotion. And when they entered a prison chamber, they found survivors.

A wealthy silk merchant, his wife, and two guards. Captured on the road and held for ransom—or worse. The heroes escorted them to safety. The merchant, once returned to Pasar, offered Ginjo a generous reward through the Silk Guild.

His two guards, Shek and Sheng, outfitted with fresh gear, pledged their blades to the cause.

---

New Allies, New Plans

The battle had begun in earnest.

With evidence mounting of a large and organized bakemono presence, the party began assembling a broader force. The silk merchant’s influence helped. So did the quiet authority of the monks.

Sentra, a monk of the Two-Fold Path, and Sukh, the warrior from Gunjar’s homeland, agreed to join the next raid. Gwinch, an elder at the monastery, sent five additional sohei. In total, the expedition now
numbered a dozen fighters—sohei, caravaners, farmers, and four proven leaders.

They established a camp in the canyon—a central base from which to raid and regroup. They would strike in turns: one team would attack, the other defend the camp and tend the wounded.

The first strike had gone well.

But darker things lay deeper in the caves—and the bakemono had begun to organize.

Sentra and Sukh’s Sortie

Sukh had declined the temple raid—but he had never left the fight.

He’d been watching. Listening. The stories coming from the caves sounded worse than those from the Rowche ridgeline. So when Ginjo proposed a second sortie, Sukh agreed to lead it. He would go with Sentra, the quiet monk, who had once spoken of peace with a tone so cold it sounded like steel drawn from a scabbard.

They took with them a handful of sohei, plus several brave farmers. Their target: a narrow tunnel on the northern side of the canyon, half-hidden by brush and trees.

As they approached, it happened fast—a sudden rain of spears. Half a dozen small bakemono-- half-rat, half-dog, half-lizard-- dropped from the trees, shrieking and stabbing. One monk was run through and barely clung to life. Sentra charged into the fray, and swept two of the creatures aside with his staff. The ambushers fled into the underbrush, barking and hissing.

Sentra stabilized the wounded, wrapping their wounds with calm precision. He insisted the wounded be returned to camp immediately. 

That decision may have saved lives.

---

Sukh and Sentra returned hours later to a larger cavern mouth, higher on the canyon wall. The afternoon sun slanted into the opening. Inside, the light revealed ranks of severed heads, lined in niches carved into the stone. Human and bakemono, all grim trophies.

One niche was empty.

Sentra’s eyes narrowed. He had seen movement. A pig-nosed head, twitching ever so slightly—then gone. Behind the niche, he found a small tunnel. Throwing a torch inside, he glimpsed a parallel hallway, hidden behind the rows of skulls.

"They saw us first," Sentra muttered.
Sukh nodded. “Then we move fast.”

They charged into the main corridor, seeking an intercept point. They did not find the watcher—but they found four armed pig-faced bakemono.

The battle was sharp and fast. The creatures were tough but scattered. Sukh gutted two. Sentra crushed the windpipe of a third. The fourth tried to flee—but never made it to the tunnel.

They followed signs of habitation deeper in—and soon came upon the chief's lair.

He was bloated, bright red, with massive tusks jutting from his mouth like daggers. He sat in a heap of cushions and bones, surrounded by snarling bodyguards and several female bakemono.

The sohei and farmers squared off against the guards. Sukh pointed his blade at the chief.

The duel was brief, brutal, and strange. The chieftain fought with reckless strength—smashing, howling, lashing out blindly. But Sukh was patient. He waited, deflected, retreated. When the chief overcommitted, Sukh stepped in and struck low, then high—a clean kill.

The other bakemono panicked. Some tried to flee. None made it out.

The heroes looted the lair and returned to camp.

They had found one lair—but the canyon was full of mouths. And not all of them would be so clumsy.

Rowche Rumble

Pasar had grown quiet.

By the time Ginjo and Sukh returned to the Blue Water Wine Hall to investigate the Black Flower hideout, it had already been abandoned. Though there were clear signs of recent activity, nothing pointed to specific individuals, motives, or future plans. The trail had gone cold.

Ginjo: “We had chased Black Flower out of town so it was time to get paid. We met the farmers because we started a drug store.”

The “drug” Ginjo referred to was Rowche, a mild but addictive stimulant made from a grass native to the region. Brewed into a tea, Rowche was widely consumed in Pasar and neighboring settlements and exported both east and west on the Spice Road. The best strains came from the Rowche Valley, a fertile region about half a day’s journey east.

Ginjo: “The farmers asked us to get their jade leaf statue back from the bakemono. And we agreed to help them so the Rowche would keep coming—so we could sell it.”

According to the farmers, the bakemono—strange, twisted humanoids—had long troubled their valley, occasionally stealing chickens or goats. But recently, they had raided in force and taken something sacred: the Jade Leaf, a statue said to ensure the valley’s warm rains and gentle sunshine. The villagers believed this statue was the source of their prosperity.

The bakemono had holed up in an abandoned temple on the ridge above the valley.

Ginjo agreed to help—but Sukh declined. 

So Gin-jo made some inquiries and encountered Gunjar, a wandering white shaman from the far-off Land of the Five Fires. Gunjar had no interest in stimulants or trade—but the desecration of a temple roused his deep sense of spiritual justice.

So Ginjo and Gunjar set out for the Rowche Valley.

The villagers greeted them with quiet gratitude. Early the next morning, the two adventurers, joined by seven local farmers, began the climb up the mist-shrouded ridge. By noon, the mists had lifted, and the ruined temple’s peaked roof was visible above the canopy.

As they reached the forest’s edge, they heard guttural laughter. In the clearing below, they saw a dozen creatures—vaguely humanoid, but grotesquely distorted. Some were horned, others winged. Many had tails. Their ears and noses were oversized; their skin tinted shades of blue, green, and purple. Two of them, blindfolded, were engaged in a vicious stick-fight while the others cheered.

Gunjar stepped forward, calling on the spirits to transfix the largest of the creatures. His prayer was answered. As the leader stiffened in place, Ginjo led the farmers in a charge. The remaining bakemono were killed, and the paralyzed one was bound and dragged into the woods.

Inside the temple, they found more bakemono—just as disorganized, but more numerous. The initial assault was successful, but when the fighting spread, the inexperienced farmers faltered. Three were killed, and several others fled in panic. The bakemono pursued them, and only a few brave or lucky survivors remained with Gunjar and Ginjo.

On the upper floor, the bakemono were larger, better armed, and better organized. But they had not reckoned with the shaman’s fury. Gunjar delivered a blistering sermon, denouncing the bakemono for their violent ways. His words—terrible in their truth—struck many dead where they stood. Ginjo engaged the leader in single combat and killed him with his own hands.

With the enemy broken, the Jade Leaf was reclaimed.

That night, there was a subdued celebration in the village. Of the seven farmers who had gone to the ridge, only two returned with minor wounds:

• Howzaa, who had fled the main battle downstairs but later ambushed and killed one of the pursuing bakemono, claiming the creature’s weapon.
• Li Po, who had stayed near Ginjo during the fiercest fighting and learned what it meant to fight with courage.

In the days after the battle at the temple, Pasar returned to its usual rhythm. Barges came in from across the lake, heavy with fish and salted reeds. Traders from the mountains brought furs and Rowche; caravans from the east brought silk, glass, and gossip. At the city’s center, the market buzzed as always—with haggling, laughter, the slap of butcher knives on chopping blocks, and the sizzle of oil in blackened woks.

Ginjo returned to his shop near the canal, where tea smoke and Rowche steam curled into the humid air. Gunjar lingered at the lakeshore shrine, his hands never still—scratching symbols into the sand, watching the water for signs. Sukh watched from afar.

But something was wrong in the hills.

Howzaa and Li Po returned to the Rowche Valley as minor heroes. It was they who first brought the stories: of fresh tracks in the ash near the ruined temple; of livestock disappearing from high pastures; of torches seen flickering on distant ridgelines. The elders whispered of an old canyon, once a refuge of hermits, lined with caves carved into the sandstone by wind and centuries. A place where monks and pilgrims once sought wisdom… and where others went mad.

Now, it seemed, the caves had new inhabitants.

A shepherd found a pig-nosed corpse snagged in a ravine, torn by arrows and half-eaten by crows. A boy who followed goat tracks too far returned pale and trembling, claiming he saw "a man with lizard eyes and a voice like a drum." The rumors came slow, then faster, like the breath before a storm.

The bakemono had not scattered. They had gathered.

And so, one morning not long after the temple victory, Gunjar stood beside Ginjo in the dry light of dawn. Neither spoke. They were watching the far hills.

Somewhere beyond them was a canyon, and within it, a darkness worth facing.

Under the mountain

Having dealt a significant blow to the slavers operating in the area, Gwinch agreed to Kishi’s suggestion that they should return to his assignment from the Emperor to track down the rogue Governor and General. Accompanied by Gunjar, their retainers (Saisho, Deng, Little Gamo) and Gwinch’s 12 disciples, they set off from Quitokai, seeking out the fabled Larang Highway. Because Gwinch had made the acquaintance of a sociable and intelligent band of pandas who knew of the “scare men,” the party declined the assistance of a human guide from Quitokai. Kreppu-san and Sho-ji stayed behind.
The party spent a couple days with the Panda, and helped them kill and eat an enormous two-headed snake. And then it was time to go. The Pandas showed them where the Larang Highway tunneled under the great snow-capped mountains.

subterranean highway II, a photo by Brayo on Flickr.

The party travelled through this tunnel for two days, before emerging in a green valley, thick with trees, vines, mist, and monkeys, and surrounded on all sides by sheer cliffs. In this valley was a waterfall-fed pool that was emptied by a stream that flowed into an underground channel. Conveniently, there were 10 small canoes available. Less conveniently, each canoe could only hold one person. And no mounts. The party felled a few trees and constructed three rafts, each capable of holding four people, luggage and a fire-pot for light inside the cave. The horses and donkeys were left behind.

Vuon-dia-dang-trong-hang-dong-lon-nhat-the-gioi_Tin180.com_013, a photo by phamducdao on Flickr.

The caverns were a labyrinth of winding tunnels, some water-filled and others dry. They fought a couple groups of small (2-3 ft. tall) skeleton- and zombie- men and recovered some interesting and valuable magic amulets. And they found the exit—a passage that connected them to a large well-finished and paved tunnel that brought them back into day light—on a hot dry ridge bordering a steaming jungle.
Kishi used her magic to ascend into the sky and survey the area. The long shape of the jungle suggested a river. Without any clearly marked path or even destination, the party decided that they should enter the jungle and move through it directly south, hoping to rediscover the Larang Highway, or rumors of the Governor or the General, either inside the jungle or on the other side.

Breaking the Slavers' Stockade

Do the rules for invisibility (stay invisible until you attack someone) need a rewrite? My players exploit this so that when they are going into enemy territory, their standard practice is to rinse-and-repeat over a couple days until the entire party is invisible—and then have the magicians memorize it once more before they set out. And this is what they did when it was time to invade the slavers’ fort.

It was a large party that set out from Quitokai—Gwinch & his secretary Saisho; Kishi and her protectors, Deng & Little Gamo; Kreppu-San; Gunjar; and a new a new PC, a wandering priest named Sho-Ji (I think, please correct me Isa-Girl-Monkey, if necessary). And then there were Gwinch’s student-monks and a couple villagers from Quitokai to guide them to the fort, which was situated, like most forts, on a rocky promontory at the confluence of two shallow rivers.

A couple scouted out the way on foot, first, and finding a ramshackle combination of ruined stone work and wooden palisade at the back of a muddy plateau near the top of the promontory, the party decided it was ok for everyone to go up, with their horses.

I said everyone was invisible, but the horses were not, and neither were the student-monks. Sticking to the cover of the rocks and vegetation, the party circled the fort and made a camp above it and hatched a rough plan. They’d wait for nightfall, when the invading party (everyone except little Gamo and the student-monks who’d be “watching” with their bows in case their invisible friends looked like they needed help) would scale the wall at the back of the fort. The fort was surrounded by a muddy ditch that seemed to have something living in it and a few hours observation had suggested the thing in the ditch stayed at the front of the fort.

As they approached the fort, they noticed guards patrolling the walls. They chose an opportune time and place, and used some magic to incapacitate the guards, and then get everyone over the wall. (And yes, casting invisibility again on the briefly visible priest who’d cast hold person.)
Then they began to look around. They found in a tower, the barracks for a large number of off-duty guard. In a recent, generally unsuccessful expedition, they’d encountered a vicious spirit creature which, when wounded by magic (seemingly the only way to harm it) took the form of a spider. Whereupon, Saisho, a collector of spiders, had scooped it up in a little jar. So . . . Kishi picked the lock on the barracks door, Saisho tossed the spider jar inside, Kishi barred the door shut again, and everyone listened to the spider resume its fierce undead monster form and begin tearing up slaver guards. The guards had a nice alarm system, and soon much of the fort was rushing to the aid of their comrades.

The party watched. Icar—a man of seemingly considerable power, both in his person and in his role as sort type of commander, held his ground against the vicious creature, but even his glowing sword seemed useless against it.



Taking advantage of the “distraction,”-- and also by following the ebb and flow of defenders first marching towards and then running away from the spirit creature—the party found a long and dark terraced room prison in which a deep-reverberating moaning provoked a great sense of unease among the party and seemed to hold its occupants in a dread trance. The source of the moaning—something like a very large bat that hovered in the air like a fish does in the water— was brought down by twin volleys of magic missiles from Saisho and Kishi.

Gwinch removed from Icar, the fallen commander, his glowing sword and they keys to the prisoners’ shackles. The party moved quickly—although the sounds of “battle” had moved to the opposite side of the fort, the slavers’ panicked screams were more infrequent suggesting to the party that the creature would eventually circle back toward them—and unlocked the slaves and climbed back over the wall. As they were remounting their horses and beginning their descent from the plateau, they could hear the sound of a woman’s voice rallying the remaining troops. A flash of lightning from inside the fort suggested perhaps she had resources for dispatching the evil spirit.

The party made haste back down the trail to the river.

Siege of Quitokai aftermath

In the several months since their arrival in Quitokai, the adventurers from Khanbaliq had, by their simple presence, discouraged the slavers from coming anywhere near. In that time Gwinch had instructed his followers, directing them in assisting a wandering monk to build a small shrine near the village. Gwinch and Kishi made peace and even discussed plans for resuming the “Emperor’s mission” to pursue the rogue Governor, based on information about a lost highway provided by the villagers. But he also had information about the location of the slavers’ local stronghold and was considering making an attack. Finally, he was curious to encounter and with some luck, befriend a tiger. Another traveller who stopped in Quitokai said that he’d seen such an animal one night at the shrine.

But all these plans were put aside when Quitokai was attacked by a combined force of the “jungle clans”—groups of people who unlike the agriculturalist of Quitokai, lived deep in the jungle. The attackers included the “Red Clan” and the “Wolf Clan” who employed half-trained wolves in their assault.

IMG_1267, a photo by Brayo on Flickr.

Although Quitokai’s defenders held the compound, in the morning it was discovered that the raiders had made off with a number of animals, most notably about two dozen water buffaloes. Gwinch, Gunjar and Kishi decided that, on the whole, the villagers had been gone to them, and recovering the water buffalo might gain their permanent favor for future endeavors—whether seeking the lost highway or attacking the slavers’ citadel. One of the wolves had been captured; Gwinch tended the animal's wounds and relying on his past experience with animals, made a friend of him.

Accompanied by a young shaman and two warriors, the adventurers set off in pursuit of the raiders. The tracks of two dozen water buffalo driven through the jungle proved easy to follow and by about noon they would clear confirmation that they were gaining on the raiders—they came upon the aftermath of a large battle between members of two of the clans, plus about half a roasted water buffalo. After dispatching the oversized beetles who were feasting on the carcasses, the party discovered a survivor. The survivor, a member of the viper clan explained that he and his fellows had been grazing their water buffalo when the wolf clan ambushed them and killed many of his friends—and then stole the buffalo! Admitting that the buffalo were newly acquired, the survivor showed an abundance of fear-inspired hatred of the wolf clan and the party took him along with them.

As evening approached, they made a camp for the night, with four people on watch (Gwinch, Gunjar, Deng a priest from Khanbaliq, and Akoi the shaman form Quitokai). About midnight, Gwinch’s wolf began to howl in a way that Gwinch interpreted as a greeting. Gwinch heard some noise in the brush and very soon three men jumped out with knives and attacked Deng. Although the party overwhelmed the attackers by numbers, they found their weapons useless against them. One of the men had brought down Akoi and seemed about to tear out the shaman’s throat with his teeth when the party unleashed its magic. Deng paralyzed one of the three rabid men, Saisho blasted a second with magic missiles, and Kishi dropped a tree branch on the third—not killing him, but pinning him to the ground so that Saisho could finish him off with a blade of lightning. Akoi was saved—though badly wounded. (Gwinch's wolf ran off during or after the battle.)

In the morning, Gunjar put Akoi on his horse and sent him back to Quitokai, escorted by the two village warriors. The rest of the party pressed on. About an hour later, they reached a large clearing that held an old stone guardpost and an animal pen containing the missing water buffalo.

Water buffalo pen, a photo by Karissa Darvin on Flickr.

Three men were there, idly watching the beasts. The bulk of the party fell back into the trees and fanned out around the clearing, Kishi approached invisibly, and Gwinch, Saisho, and Gunjar approached openly, presenting themselves as travelers. The men—who seemed to be neither forest people nor farmers— but rogues from the lands of civilization, seemed to know their own kind and greeted the party with courtesy. When talked turned to the buffaloes and who their owners might be, one of the men went to get “the Lady.”

“The Lady,” explained that she had purchased the buffalo just the day before, and accepted the party’s word that they were stolen—she offered to sell them for the same price she’s paid for them—15 tael each. The party flatly refused to pay anything—although they offered to assist her in tracking down the raiders so that she might collect her costs from them. Violence broke out, and very soon the Lady and her men were dead. The party buried the bodies, looted the house, and decided to make their camp there, even though they still had several hours of daylight still, hoping that maybe the raiders would attack them there and save them the trouble of trying to follow their trail.

Towards evening, they received a surprise visit by a group of villagers from Quitokai. The villagers reported that some of their sister villages had also been attacked—these other settlements were less well-defended and had been completely overrun, and many of their occupants captured. The party decided to return the buffaloes to Quitokai and then to go to the other villages and try to find out what happened.

The trip back to Quitokai was uneventful and the atmosphere was generally joyful, at least for those without relatives in the other villages. While his disciples enjoyed a night of feasting, Gwinch went out to the shrine, hoping to meet the tiger. Happily, Kishi and Saisho accompanied him, both invisible, While Gwinch meditated in the little grove, the other two watched for trouble. And trouble came—eight villagers from Quitokai armed with spears. When the villagers pounced, Kishi blasted three of them with magic and the others fled into the bush.

The party returned to the compound, ready for more treachery, but found everything as it should be, and they decided not to change their plan to help the people of Quitokai rescue their kidnapped relatives.
The next morning, Gwinch, Saisho, Kishi, Little Gamo, and Deng, together with Gwinch’s student-monks, and 5 villagers set off for Hoko, a village up the river.

They arrived and found it in complete ruins. Gwinch picked up what he though was the trail of the kidnappers, and the party followed it straight east, first through the jungle and then over grasslands and through thickets of bamboo. That night it rained, and the next day, the trail was difficult to find. After another hour spent traveling east without finding any clear signs that they were going in the right direction, the party opted to head toward the mountains to the north and the rough location of the slavers’ stronghold figring that would be the kidnappers’ ultimate destination.

Night brought them to the edge of the jungle, much thicker then what they’d been travelling through closer to Quitokai. Kishi used her magic to ascend into the air on a pair of fiery wings—looking down into the jungle she saw lights or other signs of human activity. The party made their camp. Again, Gwinch and Deng promised the others that they could spend the night in meditation while still keeping their senses alert to danger. Gwinch, for his part, spent the night in a tree on the edge of the jungle. Not long after the darkness was complete, he heard the sound of something man-sized slipping very quickly through it. As he climbed down the tree, he watched a gaunt human-like figure break through the undergrowth and charge down the slight slope toward the party. Gwinch leaped to the ground and cased after it, shouting to awaken his companions. Hearing Gwinch, the creature turned on him and charged.
Some of Gwinch’s student-sohei were among the first awake and one of them placed a well-aimed arrow in the middle of the creature’s back. Gwinch saw it burst out of its chest—bloodlessly. And the creature didn’t even falter. The creature reached Gwinch, parried his sword blade with its forearms and seized Gwinch by the shoulders. At this point, Saisho’s magic missiles hit the creature—it screeched and through itself at Gwinch, assuming the form of a spider that crawled inside Gwinch’s armor.
Using the ring that he’d taken from Omesa, Saisho commanded the spider to crawl out, and then placed it in a jar.

In the morning, the villagers, shaken by terrible dreams, suggested to Gwinch that if his plan was to investigate the slavers’ stronghold, there were easier ways to get there then passing through or anywhere near that jungle. If they returned to Quitokai and followed the river and brought with them the girl who had escaped, they would get there sooner and safer. He agreed and they returned to Quitokai.

On the road to Quitokai

Originally uploaded by jadeeey

The party traveled several days through the forest. Sometimes monotonous, the journey was generally peaceful. They happened upon a deserted guardhouse and found a cache of weapons. And they hunted monkeys to supplement their rice cakes and steamed scorpion.

Early one morning, Gwinch noticed that Kishi had left her backpack open and that there was a scroll sticking out of it. It wasn't a magic scroll, but a message. Although the full meanng was ambiguos, the words "assasinate" and "Gwinch" in the same sentance gave him some alarm. Kishi ran away, and the rest of the party traveled without her.

After a couple days, they left the forest behind and traveled through burnt grains fields and ruined rice paddies. In a stand of bamboo, they were ambushed by villagers. One member of the party, Deng, was local the areas, and negotiated a truce. The villagers were suspicious and warned the party to not press any further but wait for word from the elders.

When the elders arrived, accompanied by 50 armed villagers, they questioned the party. What are you doing here? Gwinch explained that he had discovered renegade members of his monastery were conducting a slaving operation and that he had come to put a stop to it. The villagers had indeed experienced this problem first-hand. It seemed that both monks and former soldiers were part of the operation. When the party learned that the slavers had a hideout in the mountains somewhere between the forest and the burned grain fields, they agreed that they would investigate. The elders allowed one of their warriors a woman named Orya to go with them. And they took the wounded sohei back to their village so they could recover and be their hostage.

Although the party had a crude map, they had some difficulty in find the way to the slavers' hideout. in their exploration, along a stretch of the remains of an ancient highway, they met a small group of soldiers, claiming they were there to arrest Gwinch. Inevitably, the soldiers or brignads were killed. The party found the path that they believed led to the hideout, but decided to go Quitokai (Orya's village) to rest and plan before making their sortie. Their fight with the soldiers was taken as partial proof of their sincerity and the party was allowed to stay in the village.

mission from the emperor

While Gwinch was talking to his companions (including one relatively new PC, Gunjar the shaman, and one brand-new PC, Kreppu-Sen, a bushi from Zipang) about his plans for hunting down the slavers in Khanbaliq, Kishi came to him with some news. He had been "requested" by the Emperor to command a small army and go on a special mission.

Gwinch accepted. He made some attempts to do some last-minute investigation, but didn't get a good opportunity to discover anything substantive.

Kish provided little in the way of details. There was a problem in one of the Southern Provinces. First with savages, then with the Governor, then with a General sent to help to Governor. The Khan wanted the party to track down both the General and the Governor, both of whom are considered likely traitors.

Over a month, the party traveled with the army to the southwest corner of the empire, fidning increasing surly peasant along the way. As they approached the border, large parts of the army deserted, and at the border, the army's commander left the part on their own, telling them only to head south and try to pick up the trails of Kawabi and Goyat in the Kumandang Valley.

The party spent a day traveling in the forest, at first enjoying the change from being part of a large army and passing through broken farmland populated by angry farmers. That night they were attacked by a giant scorpion. Relying on the spells of Kishi and Saisho, cooked it nicely and had a nice feast.

Laying Low
Originally uploaded by Furryscaly