Ashes Session 8

Dates¶

Real World: June 17, 2026
In-Game: 14th-17th of Firemoot, 1137 AoD

Player Characters¶

Django as Venathrax
Koram as Anchor
Lasarian as Vash
Ojike as Corq
Sofija as Pethi
Stelmarii as Wrenn
Tundrra as Xam

Experience¶

Venathrax, 1200
Anchor, 1200
Vash, 1200
Corq, 1202
Pethi, 1200
Wrenn, 1200
Xam, 1200
Level 4: 2,700 XP

Session Notes¶

Two Months Later¶

Palesun ended. Firemoot began.
Two months passed following the arrest of Araroris Calaarauth and the destruction of the Covenant of the Last Dawn.

At first, life seemed to return to normal.

Construction resumed on the Dawn Seeker. The shipyards reopened. The city spoke of justice, survival, and moving forward.

But slowly, subtle changes began to appear.

Fishing boats remained in harbor for no apparent reason.

Farmers delayed repairs.

Merchants opened their shops later.

Workers called in sick more often.

The people of Agrovionimb seemed… tired.

Rumors spread of strange dreams and an uneasy feeling that something in the swamp had changed.

Then came the children.

Children from different schools, families, and districts all began drawing the same image:

A great tree standing alone in dark water.

When asked about the drawings, several children gave the same answer:

"The tree is sad."

The drawings eventually found their way to Kuserlion Faewen-FairyMaiden, who summoned us to the Settlement Hall.

The ancient elf appeared deeply troubled.

The Covenant had been destroyed.

The conspirators were imprisoned.

The beacon ritual had failed.

And yet the strange malaise afflicting the city had only grown worse.

One child had claimed that the tree lived somewhere within the Dreadmist.

Ordinarily, Kuserlion would have dismissed such a story.

This time, he did not.

He placed the drawings before us and asked us to investigate.

If there was another hidden truth on Agrovionimb, he believed we would be the ones to find it.

Preparing for the Expedition¶

Firemoot, Fifth Day - 14th of Firemoot, 1137 AoD
The party decided to venture into the Dreadmist Swamp in search of the mysterious tree.

The plan was to travel toward the southeastern corner of the island, near the shield wall of mountains. Word would be left at the outermost watch post, and supplies would be prepared in case we managed to return.

Kuserlion also provided us with several healing potions to aid our expedition.

Before departing, we questioned him about the swamp itself.

What little knowledge remained from before the Fall painted an unsettling picture.

The swamp should not exist.

Its climate, geology, and elevation all suggest that the water should naturally drain into the sea.

It does not.

Ancient researchers reached no conclusions, though they noted increasingly unusual magical readings deeper within the mire, particularly toward the eastern mountains.

The swamp had once been home to a coven of hags, but they had been utterly exterminated long ago.

Whatever was wrong with the Dreadmist…

It was not the hags.

Into the Dreadmist¶

Firemoot, Seventh Day - 16th of Firemoot, 1137 AoD
Travel through the rocky foothills and wetlands proved slow and exhausting.

By evening, we made camp beneath a rocky incline.

Before turning in for the night, Wrenn attempted to locate the tree depicted in the children's drawings by casting Locate Plants, using the drawings themselves as a guide.

The spell succeeded.

Sort of.

There were many sad-looking trees within the swamp.

Far too many.

The search would not be so simple.

The Wandering Eye¶

That night, Venathrax awoke to discover something strange in his pocket.

A thorn-covered sphere.

An eye.

The object radiated powerful divination magic.

More disturbing still, a voice spoke directly into his mind.

It claimed to be a gift.

A gift intended to aid him on the dangerous path ahead.

Venathrax woke Corq.

After casting Identify, Corq's expression immediately soured.

The object was a legendary item known as The Wandering Eye.

Its powers were extraordinary.

Its cost was not.

To use it, one had to remove one of their own eyes and replace it with the artifact.

Corq's advice was immediate and emphatic:

Get rid of it.

Then he went back to sleep.

The voice returned.

It urged Venathrax to keep the gift.

Uncertain, Venathrax sought another opinion.

He woke Anchor.

Anchor's response was somewhat different.

The warforged saw only possibility.

A powerful enhancement.

A means to better protect the group.

He enthusiastically supported the idea.

Unfortunately, he also produced a healing potion.

Wrenn was awakened shortly thereafter.

Against all reasonable judgment, the procedure went forward.

Venathrax removed one of his eyes.

The Wandering Eye took its place.

Afterward, Wrenn healed the injury.

When the pain finally subsided, Venathrax's vision had changed forever.

He now possessed Truesight out to 240 feet.

No one in the camp slept particularly well after that.

The First Sad Tree¶

Firemoot, Eighth Day - 17th of Firemoot, 1137 AoD
The following morning, many of us awoke feeling inexplicably sad.

Whether it was the influence affecting the city or simply the result of the previous night's events remained uncertain.

Guided by her spell, Wrenn led us to the first of the sad trees.

Unfortunately, it was not the one from the children's drawings.

As we examined the area, movement caught our attention.

A large shape was approaching through the swamp.

Then another.

A Hydra had found us.

And for the first time since the battle with the troll, steel was drawn and battle was joined once more.

NPCs Interacted With¶

Kuserlion Faewen-FairyMaiden

Note Taker's Recap¶

Two months have passed since we exposed the plot to destroy the city and Araroris Calaarauth made her statements its people. Since then a growing hopelessness has slowly taken hold of the city and children throughout have started to draw the same images of a mysterious sad tree. Kuserlion has asked us to enter the swamp to find this shared vision.

We have decided to head for the swamps center, taking the road to the islands most south east corner along the mountains. Word will be left at the outermost post and supplies will be readied for any potential return we make. The rocky mountains are as slow as the wet swamp but head deeper in with Wrenn casting locate plant using the children's drawings to power the spell. There are many sad trees in this previously hag invested marsh.

Venathrax awakens to find a thorny eyeball in his pocket, a legendary item whom insists is a gift to help him on his dangerous task. Corq pleads for him to dispose of it, but Anchor embraces the mechanical enhancement and the ability it would achieve... the cost? only ones own eye! Venathrax pays the price and gains truesight.

The next morning Wrenn leads us to the first sad tree, unfortunately not the one we seek. However a Hydra has sought us and the first battle since the troll begins.

Notes¶

14th Firemoot, Fifth Day 1178 AoD

2month time jump from last session.
questions to Kureslion ?
7 Pots given
tower will be supplied with stuff, 2 days easy travel to get there.

16th Firemoot, Seventh Day 1178 AoD

6pm end of a travel day we make camp under a rock incline.
wrenn casts find sad tree "locate plant"
venatrax finds a lump in his pocket, thorny ball with a eye!
ritual cast detect magic. divination
a voice in his head speaks to him to keep this gift.
vena wakes corq to investigate
identify casted by corq, the wandering eye, legendary item. must pull out eye to use it.... ouch.
corq says to get rid of it! and goes back to sleep.
the voice speaks to him again to keep the gift.
so he consults anchor who is all for it.
wrenn is awaken and Anchor encouraged to do it and pulls out a healing potion.
pupil as in student not eye.
240 truesight is now active.
wrenn heal wounds for 11

17th Firemoot, eigth Day 1178 AoD

alot of teh groups feels sadder when the wake up
wrenn tracks us to the first sad tree but it is not the one.
a large shape is moving towards us
on the oppiste
hydra

Text Blocks¶

Two Months Later¶

The arrest of Araroris Calaarauth and the destruction of the Covenant of the Last Dawn should have brought relief to Agrovionimb.

For a while, it seemed to.

Construction resumed on the Dawn Seeker. The shipyards returned to work. The city spoke often of survival, of justice, and of moving forward.

Life returned to normal.

Or something close to it.

Over the following weeks, small oddities began to emerge.

Fishing boats occasionally remained in harbor for no obvious reason.

Farmers delayed repairs that once would have been completed immediately.

Merchants opened their shops later.

Workers called in sick more often.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing alarming.

Simply a growing sense that the city was becoming tired.

People complained of strange dreams.

Many could not remember them upon waking.

Some awoke feeling rested.

Others did not.

Rumors spread quietly through taverns and marketplaces.

The swamp felt different.

The weather felt wrong.

Something was watching.

No one could explain why they felt that way.

Life continued.

But the feeling lingered.

Then, one morning after breakfast, a messenger arrives with a summons from Councilor Kuserlion Faewen.

No explanation is provided.

Meeting with Kuserlion¶

A messenger arrives shortly after breakfast.

The note is brief.

"Councilor Kuserlion requests your presence at the Settlement Hall at your earliest convenience."

No explanation is provided.

When you arrive, Kuserlion is waiting in a small meeting room adjoining the Council chamber.

The ancient sea elf looks tired.

Not physically tired.

Distracted.

There are papers spread across the table before him.

Reports.

Ledger sheets.

Handwritten notes.

Several pages covered with children's drawings.

Kuserlion waits until everyone is seated before speaking.

"I had hoped this matter was finished."

He slides a document across the table.

It is a fisheries report.

Several columns have been marked in red ink.

"Fish production is down nearly twelve percent from the same period last year."

He places another beside it.

A farming report.

"Maintenance requests are increasing."

Another.

A Tidewarden report.

Three names.

Three deaths.

"You've heard about these."

He does not phrase it as a question.

"Three suicides in less than two months."

The room falls quiet.

Kuserlion folds his hands.

"None were members of the Covenant."

"None were connected to one another."

"None left evidence suggesting criminal activity."

He pauses.

"And yet."

The sea elf taps a finger against the papers.

"The city is changing."

"Not dramatically."

"Not enough that most people would notice."

"But enough that I do."

He leans back slightly.

"For six hundred years I have watched this city."

"I know what decline looks like."

His gaze moves to the drawings scattered across the table.

"And then there is this."

He pushes several pages forward.

Each contains a crude drawing.

A large tree standing alone in dark water.

Different styles.

Different levels of skill.

Clearly drawn by different children.

Yet unmistakably the same tree.

"The first teacher brought these to me three days ago."

"I assumed children were sharing stories."

A second stack is placed beside the first.

"There are now thirty-seven."

The party quickly notices that the names written on the backs belong to children from different schools across the city.

Different schools.

Different families.

Different ages.

Kuserlion picks up one drawing.

On the back, written in careful handwriting, is a teacher's note.

"When asked about the tree, the student replied: 'The tree is sad.'"

The councilor sets it down.

"I have spoken with the teachers."

"I have spoken with the parents."

"No one knows where the drawings came from."

"No one has seen this tree."

"No one remembers telling stories about it."

He is silent for a moment.

Then:

"The Covenant is gone."

"Araroris is imprisoned."

"The Witnesses are imprisoned."

"Durgat is imprisoned."

"The beacon ritual has been stopped."

His eyes settle on the party.

"So why are the symptoms getting worse?"

No one answers.

Kuserlion slowly gathers several of the drawings into a neat stack.

"One of the children mentioned that the tree lives in the swamp."

He immediately raises a hand.

"I am aware that children say many things."

"Ordinarily I would ignore it."

"But at this point I find myself running short on explanations."

He slides the drawings across the table.

"I would like you to investigate."

"The Dreadmist."

"The tree."

"Whatever is causing this."

The sea elf hesitates.

For the first time since you've known him, he appears uncertain.

"Perhaps you will find nothing."

"Perhaps this is coincidence."

His gaze drifts briefly to the drawings.

"I do not believe it is."

The room falls silent.

Finally Kuserlion says:

"You uncovered the Covenant."

"You found the truth behind Nelldove's death."

"If there is another truth hidden on this island..."

He nods toward the stack of drawings.

"...I suspect you are the ones who will find it."

Discord Chat after Meeting¶

2:52 PM Corq: "My mom's gonna kill me..."

3:30 PM Venathrax: Does the tree depicted in these drawings look familiar to any of us?

3:37 PM Dungeon Master: No, it does not.

3:40 PM Venathrax: To Wrenn: "Druid, can you discern anything informative about this tree from these drawings?"

4:00 PM Venathrax: "Anchor, relative of yours? I think I see a resemblance."

4:18 PM Anchor: After a slight pause, “Perhaps…”

7:15 PM Wrenn: Can I? Nature check?

7:17 PM Dungeon Master: Nat 20

7:17 PM Dungeon Master: Its a tree. In a swamp.

7:21 PM Wrenn: 26

7:21 PM Dungeon Master: Its a tree. In a swamp.

7:22 PM Wrenn: “I think… it’s a tree… in a swamp.”

7:22 PM Wrenn: “But I’m not sure.”

7:22 PM Wrenn: Gosh Wrenn sounds like a dick.

7:23 PM Dungeon Master: You've never been deep enough in the swamp to see this tree, or a tree of this scale at all. If you had been, you'd be dead.

7:31 PM Dungeon Master: Every hex is 6 miles. 4 hexes per day, swamp is difficult terrain so every hex counts as 2.

7:35 PM Corq: "We know, first-hand, what the swamp can do. I don't want to see anyone else lost to the mire, so we need to prepare better this time around. If my memory of the island's lore serves correct, this place was a research outpost before the fall. Kuserlion, are there any books, or scraps of writing, or any clues you might know I could dig into, to at least give us some insight what we're looking for, and possibly what we'd be up against?"

7:46 PM Dungeon Master: “You remember correctly. Before the Fall, the site was both a research post and a way station. Unfortunately, the Great War diverted attention elsewhere, and very little useful research was ever completed. What the old scholars did determine was this: the swamp should not exist.”

"The island’s weather does not support it. The geology does not support it. The elevation does not support it. By every ordinary measure, the water should drain naturally into the sea. It does not.”

“Beyond that, most of what survives is documentation of the swamp’s wildlife. Trolls. Crocodiles. Giant insects. Amphibious predators. Dangerous plants. Unpleasant things, certainly, but nothing that explains the swamp itself.”

“There were magical surveys as well, but the records I have seen are incomplete. The researchers found unusual readings, especially deeper in the mire, but they never reached a conclusion. The swamp seems to worsen as one travels inward, though the effect is not perfectly centered. It appears offset slightly eastward, toward the shield wall of mountains along the eastern coast.”

“There is one other thing. In the early years after Agrovionimb became a haven, the swamp was home to a coven of hags. They were eventually eliminated. The old researchers knew of them. They studied them. They concluded the hags were not the cause.”

“Which means I can tell you what the swamp is not. I cannot tell you what it is.”

7:50 PM Dungeon Master: "The official records are stored in an antechamber under the Pagoda of Ara. It is technically open to the public, but rarely used."

8:09 PM Wrenn: hags!

9:01 PM Venathrax: "Wait, wait, wait, wait… 'They were eventually eliminated'? Are you sure about that? Because killing a bunch of hags sounds like a great way to enrage any remaining hags who happened to survive by hiding in the vast uncharted swamp we just happen to share the island with."

9:04 PM Dungeon Master: "Yes, I'm sure."

9:08 PM Venathrax: hrmph "sure"

9:09 PM Dungeon Master: “Quite sure. It was not a single raid. It was a campaign. Years long. Records, patrol logs, trophy inventories, grave-markers, witness accounts, spellwork, the whole brutal machinery of survival. The hags were not inconvenienced. They were exterminated.”

“And before you ask, yes, later generations asked the same question. So did the old researchers. Repeatedly. Every time the swamp behaved strangely, someone blamed the hags. Every time, the evidence failed.”

“If you wish to read those records, you may. They are in the same archive.”

10:13 PM Venathrax: "I have some experience with the records stored under the temple. Might as well learn as much as we can, before we go marching aimlessly into the Deathmire to find a sad tree."

8:50 PM Vash: Is that shield wall of mountains to the east traversable?

9:37 PM Dungeon Master: I suppose that depends on how good a mountaineer you are.

9:44 PM Dungeon Master: They aren't "obviously impassible" or anything. Well, they are from the sea, but not from the land.