#I cant handle the night. I end up with a severe case of sudden sadness. everytime. I made sure to dry out my eyes drawing this time at leas

[little-estrellita]

Here I am. 4 a.m. Finally, I admiting defeat and put away the piece I have been working on. I haven't been awake this early into the morning in years. And yet, I am restless.

So, what is in my recommendation to cure me? Why.. a Sonic the Hedgehog fact complication.

Fortunately, I know darn well this will NOT help me go to sleep. For I want nothing more than to hear someone yap about Sonic the Hedgehog... imagine someone walking by and hearing it tho. It would be..funny.

Anyways. Have the one thing I got happy about creating during these unholy hours. Someone remind me to cut down on the 50 or so layers I have. Ibis Paint was screaming at me

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 4

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Saelhen and Looseleaf, following their recent dance conquest, get back on the road to Thunderbrush- and get themselves wrapped up in a blood feud between rival farming villages. Before that, though... something goes bump in the night.

It's the night after the wedding reception, and the party has free rooms, courtesy of Carrid Bronzebloom. Looseleaf and Oyobi remain roomies, Vayen shares a room with Orluthe, and Saelhen insists on a room of her own, as a proper noblewoman.

Also as a proper noblewoman, she searches the room for any and all places of entry or exit, and places some ball bearings in front of them. It's just the window and the one door, so... two spots.

In the night...

A pair of crit fails, on the part of whoever's sneaking into her room at night, and on Saelhen's part to notice them! Saelhen, it seems, meant to sleep with one eye open, but the eyes disagreed on which one it should be, and she dozed off something fierce.

Which means that Oyobi, trancing in the adjacent room (elves don't sleep!) is the only one to hear Vayen bang his shin on something and go "ow!" in the middle of the night. Oyobi, however, has a -1 to int, and fails to recall exactly which rooms her other party members were in.

The next morning, Saelhen notices... that the ball bearings by the door have been disturbed. Even though the door was locked, and remained locked the whole time, someone was able to get into her room and pass the DC 10 dex check to not get knocked over by the ball bearings. Apart from that, though, nothing in her room is out of place or missing. Hm...

On the road, while Looseleaf is distracted buying a quarterstaff from a traveling merchant, Saelhen and Oyobi touch base on the situation in Thieves' Cant.

They're not taking action on this just yet, so they proceed onwards. The tall grass starts to thin out and get shorter- turning to prairie, and then almost scrubland as the climate gets more arid. It's here, as day turns to evening, that they approach a two-story building at a crossroads.

Benedict I. (GM): There's small buildings in the distance on either end of this road- and further up the highway, past the two-story building is a tall black stone tower that seems to be standing in a field, completely alone. As you approach the crossroads, you can see the sign- Wheatley General. And as you approach closer, you can see the vandalism. Some sort of yellowish-white paint has been used to write "EAT SHIT, TRAITOR" across the left half of the building's exterior, and the glass windows have holes in them. Across the right side is similar vandalism, in a more brownish-yellow paint, reading "SWINDLER INSIDE". To the left of the store is a sign pointing off to the left, northwest, reading "<- Barley". And to the right of the store is a sign pointing off to the right, southeast, reading "Wheat ->".

Inside, the place is cleaner than the outside, and fairly well-stocked for a general store in the boonies. At the counter is a very tall and very tired-looking person- either an especially tall human or a very lanky goliath.

(Most of the session is interrogating this dude.)

He tells them that they have rooms for rent, and that they're open 24 hours. Also, he warns them not to visit Wheat or Barley- apparently, they've got some kind of blood feud going on, and there's a lot of hate directed his way for trying to be neutral in the conflict.

Looseleaf: "What... are they paranoid about?" Benedict I. (GM): "Each other, mostly." Looseleaf: "And wwwwwwhy are they paranoid about each other," Benedict I. (GM): "If you go down there, they're gonna interrogate you to make sure you're not sent by the other guys to kill people." "Oh, uh, the killing people." "The murders and stuff." Looseleaf: "OKAY you could have LED with that," Looseleaf says, flipping her antennae forward and backwards. Benedict I. (GM): "They keep, I don't know, killing each other, over pointless stuff." "And getting angrier and angrier about it." "S'why I left and set up here. Tired of it." "Didn't... really help, though." "As you can probably see." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Ah. One of the sad affairs where each death is the next death's cause." Saelhen lowers her eyes. "In my country, we call such things ばかげたナンセンス."

Looseleaf's not sure this adds up. She wants to know why he set up shop in a place he hates, rather than just pack up and leave. His excuse is that his little sister is still in Barley, and he needs to stay here so that she has someplace to go if things get worse for her.

Looseleaf: "Wh- why are you letting your little sister stay in a place where people are apparently regularly dying- you're painting this place up to be a warzone, that's how you're making it sound?" "Seriously, why not just, I don't know, book it for Blacksky. It's not that far a travel from here." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "You assume he can compel her to leave, Madam Looseleaf." Looseleaf: "Or, even the port town upwards the road from here. That's where we're going too; if it's inability to leave keeping you here, we could take you with us?" Benedict I. (GM):"It's... ugh. It's not that bad. Just like... I don't know, they all act like it's not happening, until it does." "Nobody will admit to killing anyone, even if they'll talk all day about how the other side deserves to die." "Too polite for it."

Saelhen declares that she'll confer with her companions on what to do about all this- but the shopkeep insists that he didn't ask them to do anything. It's not their problem, and it's better to not get involved.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Ah, of course. I forget myself in this exotic lands. No one has asked anyone to do anything. Yes, Oyobi? Vayen?" Benedict I. (GM): Vayen has no response. "It... sounds like something should be done, though," Oyobi says. "If it's a monster, I can kill it dead!" The tall guy sighs. "You're Deathseekers, aren't you?" "You're looking for a quest." "But I can't pay, so... just forget it."

Looseleaf is entirely on board with this guy's pitch- why should they get involved?

While they're deliberating, there's a mysterious thump from the back of the store. Thalath asks them to please wait while he deals with the situation- so of course they peek at what he's doing.

Thalath piles up a few armfuls of groceries, and brings them to the backdoor, where, waiting for him, sits... a wheelbarrow. Which wiggles expectantly.

Thalath, unsurprised by this ("...Still the usual."), exchanges the groceries for a sack of coin left in the wheelbarrow, which trundles away, satisfied.

Anyway, this is unremarkable, so the party continues deliberating on what to do. Looseleaf theorizes that the murders are being committed by some unknown monster preying on both towns, which would be far too dangerou-

Oyobi is super down for night-monster hunting, and votes that they interfere. Orluthe volunteers because he just wants to help people (and not because he wants to fight monsters, surely), and Saelhen wants to get involved because getting tangled up in a clan war might provide an opportunity to get rid of Vayen somehow.

Vayen votes to get involved, too.

That... doesn't bode well. But, uh, the votes are the votes! Looseleaf is determined to do this right, if they're doing it.

Looseleaf: Get a sheet of parchment out, start taking notes. "We're investigating apparently now!" is what Looseleaf says. "Now, tell me everything you know about these mysterious deaths." "The great detective Looseleaf is on the case." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Cultural studies," adds Saelhen. "This will make fascinating material for a thesis on standing intergenerational grudges." Benedict I. (GM): "Wh- oh, god. That's- studies? Don't tell me you're from the University..." Saelhen du Fishercrown: Better than deathseekers! Benedict I. (GM): "I should've known when you said "run to Blacksky" and not "run to Oyashio"..." "I mean... I guess they'll know you're out-of-towners for sure." "So you probably won't get run out on a rail." "But... you really don't want to get involved. It's just heartbreak no matter where you look."

They put the screws I mean persuasion rolls to Thalath, and manage to get some information out of him:

His sister's name is Kensa, but if they go around asking about her, they'll know it was him who put them up to it, so please don't

There've been honor killings on and off for a while, but there's been a sudden and severe uptick in killings in Barley over the past year.

Barley's victims are all found in their fields, with four evenly-spaced holes in their chests, in a diamond pattern- and sometimes the bodies go missing.

He doesn't know much about Wheat's murders ("you'd have to ask Sass", but he heard dogs were involved.

There's a new killing around once a week now- usually on the outskirts, not in the town center.

The local authority in Barley is one Malath Kanthalga, cleric of Diamode, who's huge and has four fingers on her right hand.

Looseleaf: "What are the local authority forces like? Who would usually be responsible for handling deaths like this? Is there an Ecumene in charge of this town?" Benedict I. (GM): He nods, and grimaces. "Malath Kanthalga. Cleric of Family, in Barley. You'll be able to recognize her because she's gigantic and only has four fingers on her right hand." "If it's not three, by now." "She's the one in charge of witchhunts and telling people how to live their lives."

Looseleaf puts two and two and a DC 15 Religion check together to come to a conclusion. To the Ecumene of Diamode, which puts family first, losing a child is like losing a finger from your hand. Consequently, under Diamode law: to disown a child, you legally have to cut off one of your fingers. Given that, and what Thalath said about emphatically not being a Kanthalga, it's likely he was disowned.

On their way out, they notice the wheelbarrow trundling towards that weird black tower down the road- and Looseleaf pops back in to ask Thalath about it.

Looseleaf: "What's with the ominous black tower looming over everything in the distance like an evil villain's lair in a storybook," Looseleaf belts out rapidly. Benedict I. (GM):"Wh- oh, that?" "That's just- don't go over there, either." "That's just- there's some crazy torture wizard, stay the hell away if you can help it." Looseleaf: "There's a crazy torture wizard, and he buys groceries from you?" "And... nobody's thought to pin all the mysterious deaths on the ominous crazy torture wizard with an evil tower?"

Thalath seems convinced there's no way it could be the crazy torture wizard in the spooky tower. Reasons being:

you can't torture people if they're dead

he doesn't bother anyone anymore, since people got mad at him kidnapping people and then got mad at him trying to trick people into volunteering

he hasn't been seen in at least a year

he's totally senile and couldn't possibly get away with dozens of murders without being caught

Looseleaf suggests that maybe this guy is dead, killed by one of his own creations, and that monster is responsible for the murders. Thalath doesn't think that's possible either- he's clearly still alive, right? Someone's doing magical lightshows up in that tower every night, and someone's putting sacks of coin in the wheelbarrow in exchange for groceries.

Looseleaf... makes an arcana check to remember something about arcane magic, which I mentioned in our Discord chat:

Benedict: things about the world you would know as common background knowledge: arcane magic- that is, magic built into the world by the gods as part of the system, available to anyone with sufficient training or talent- strains the body somewhat it feels tiring, like physical exertion Farn: is it exercise? Benedict not quite, is the thing unlike physical exercise, which builds up the body's muscles so that you can do things easier over time magical exercise just gives you more of a feel for magic, so that you can do more difficult things with it. the easy stuff never gets any easier- you just have more endurance magic practice is known to shorten lifespans a bit and make the body frailer- a mage needs to work out more and eat better than a non-mage to maintain the same physical fitness it's why wizards are typically squishier- it's not a game balance thing, it's a literal effect of putting in the amount of practice to be a good wizard Farn: and arcanists tend to be nerds so that's often not gonna be a thing i imagine not enough time in the day! Benedict: yep furthermore, the image of a wizard as an old man with a long white beard isn't really a thing in the popular imagination- because physical aging makes you less able to cast magic that strain magic puts on the body can cause actual damage when your body's deteriorated enough and can't handle that strain this is why Dean Variable Velocity is in a wheelchair. she was one of the most accomplished wizards in the world, with raw power that whole cities feared- but she's no longer capable of more than the simplest cantrips due to her advanced age casting big magic would literally tear her apart and has done so in the past, costing her the use of her legs that's why she's an academic administrator, now- she means to pass on her knowledge to the younger generation, who can actually make use of it

What Looseleaf realizes is: if the old man is as senile as Thalath says he is, it's pretty weird that he'd be doing big magic lightshows every night. Maybe impossible! Maybe whatever's happening up there isn't an alive old wizard doing magic!

They report back to their team about their findings.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "There appears to be a torture wizard in the tower," she remarks. Orluthe Chokorov: "A... torture wizard?!" Looseleaf: "Okay, here's my deductions, courtesy of the great detective Looseleaf's ultimate thinking brain," Looseleaf says. "According to Thalath, there's an evil torture wizard in the tower, yes. Like, an actual, comedically evil torture wizard, which- that makes no sense?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "A torture wizard whom Sir Thalath regards as not at all a viable culprit for these incidents, no less." Looseleaf: "How has nobody come around and dealt with the torture wizard? There's a cleric of Diamode here for crying out loud, and I know that Diamode isn't exactly super big on conquering evil and saving the helpless, but surely having a torture wizard around interferes with family values in some way at least." "I bet Thalath's the real wizard or something. Thalath's a great name for an evil wizard." "And at the end, he's gonna be like, muahahaha, I fooled you all, it was me behind the whole situation, my machinations laid undetected for YEARS." "Guy really doesn't want us going to the evil wizard tower or any of the towns." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "The point Madam Looseleaf is driving at, whilst also recklessly speculating, is that we would like you to keep an eye out for anything..." "Torturous, or wizardly, while we investigate." Looseleaf: "Look, you're the one who wanted us to get into this situation involving people getting killed, and now apparently on top we also have to worry about becoming tortured by torture wizards."

So, to investigate further, they head into Barley to gather information. On the way, they noticed, by the roadside... some old rotted wood and blackened soil that indicates a building burned down there some time ago. Looseleaf reads the spirits of those burned-out foundations and finds that- while it was too long ago to get details- they burned down from a fire that burned hotter than normal fire should've, and... those burnt timbers witnesses, and sometimes caused, death. It seems like there used to be a town at this crossroads, before it split.

They arrive in Barley, and they're directed by a local farmer to the Temple of Diamode, in response to which Orluthe takes off his cap and stole- he doesn't seem to want to be recognized as a cleric of Diamode by actual Diamode clergy. There, they meet...

Malath Kanthalga, clearly a goliath, is handing out pieces of newly-forged plate armor to a queue of farmers. (That's expensive! They wouldn't be buying that stuff if they didn't need it, out here!)

She rounds on the party and gets a very good roll to intimidate them, demanding to know who they are and what they're doing there.

Looseleaf comes up with a clever angle- she wants to offer her services as an animist, to inspect the bodies of the victims and determine how they died- ostensibly proving once and for all that their hated enemy was responsible, is the angle.

Malath isn't opposed to her doing some magical forensics- she seems convinced that it was in fact the town of Wheat that's been killing the people of Barley, and expects the investigation to confirm what she already knows. She refuses to let up on the guard thing, though- safety first.

So, next time... it's time for some fantasy CSI! I've never written a murder mystery in a setting where magic is real before, so this'll be a fun challenge.

[biggy-habes]

We all go a little mad sometimes...

*Before we begin, I will start off by saying that the next few posts on here are going to deal with some pretty sensitive stuff. Depression. Grief. Anger. Hopelessness. But also, it will cover coping and overcoming. Because there is so much to cover, I am going to break this up into several minisodes.  If you are someone who might be in the “Way to Overshare, Asshole” troop, I would recommend that you skip the first couple. But if there is anyone who may be going through a giant shit pie right now, perhaps this will bring a little hope and encouragement to reach out and to take care of yourself. So settle in for the first act...

First off, thank you to everyone who reached out to make sure that i was alright. As it turns out, I, in fact, was NOT alright. Pretty fucking far from alright actually (despite all of the denials). As I walked in to work on Sunday, I could feel that I was off. Almost as though I was having a spike in blood sugar. I figured that I would eat the yogurt that I packed for lunch and everything would be honky-dorey, but each scoop had to be forced down past the large knot in my throat. As I sat at my desk, I tried answering every question from my co-workers with a smile on my face, but I could not force one through. While walking around at work, I tried lifting my head and make eye contact with people, but it was like my neck just would not straighten. I could not look anyone in their eyes when I spoke. When trying to make a call, I would have to take deep breaths and collect myself for a minute or more. Eventually the anxiety and the hyperventilating started. I was in the beginning stages of a full blown mental breakdown. But before we get into all of THAT, let me give you a little backstory...

There were several reasons behind me moving back to the Flower City. That is a long story for another time. I will sum all of them up and say that I came for a fresh start, and right off the bat I could see that this was not going to be the case. I am a strong, independent motherfucker, so I just knew that I could handle whatever life threw at me. I had expected a few bumps in the road once I had arrived in NY. It did not matter, because I had a plan. I had a vision of my future. But just like one of my old sponsors once said, “Want to make God laugh? Make a plan.” Thinking back on that now, it makes me chuckle. I bet Tyrone would be smiling that huge smile of his listening to me telling this story right now.  

After being spoiled by the relatively mild winters of the south, I knew that my first winter back was going to be rough. I apparently had forgotten how much of a bitch these winters up here were! For my Out-of-Region guests...it is cold. And dark! At one point I did not see the sun for an entire month. Seeing nothing but snow and gray skies for 5 months is tough on the morale. The constant gloom makes being chipper 24/7 a challenge. I did my very best not to let it get me down, but I could not help but notice how my mood started slipping. The irritability started ramping up. The outbursts of anger came much quicker than usual.  I hoped that once the weather got better, my moods would get better again. It was just the dreariness of the winter. So I kept trucking along. When the family issues started getting real bad, I stuffed it down. I can push forward. Spring is coming. Everything will get better then. When I had to walk away from the love of my life...the kind of love that only comes along once, I kept trucking forward. I stuffed it down. Spring is coming. Everything will get better then. When my dad died, I took care of what I needed to do, and returned to NY ready to get back to work. Stuffed the pain, the confusion, the anger, the frustration...deep down inside. Once spring comes, things will get better. All of the jealousy building up by weddings, by engagements, by anniversaries, all of the births of those around me...I took them and buried them deep down inside. All of the rejections (because lemme tell ya, dating at 40 is a HOOT!) All of the mistakes that I made and all of the guilt of my actions....I did not pay attention to them. Spring is coming. Everything will get better. When my best friend was in the hospital, all of that fear got stuffed deep down. I gotta stay strong. I got this.  But then came the death of my grandmother. I had no room to stuff something as big as that. I will save the stories of my grandmother for another post, but I will say that for the last few years I was wondering how I was going to react to my Nana's passing. Turns out, the answer to that is Not So Well.

I am not sure exactly when the unraveling started, but I know that I have felt incomplete for quite a while. As life hit me with jab after jab, I slowly started feeling myself slipping away. I was able to make it through an 8 hour shift at work and could act like myself. When I finally broke the news to my supervisors that my grandmother's death was affecting me more than I may have thought, they could not believe that there was even anything going on, because I was able to perform my job at the usual level and act like my normal, outgoing, enjoyable self. They only could see what I wanted them to see. Everyone did. They saw me laughing. They saw me joking around. They saw me get serious when I needed to. But having to do that everyday was getting exhausting. I knew that eventually it would have to end. Because what they did NOT see was the sudden breakdown into tears on my drive home. They could not see the nights that I would collapse onto my kitchen floor, lying there, full of fear and terror and loneliness. They would never guess the effort that it would sometimes take just to crawl out of bed and get ready for work. Sometimes the BEST that I could do was to hold it together long enough to make it through my shift. The unraveling was already in place.

On Sunday, I had woken up feeling off. There were events that transpired the day before that made me feel ��extremely disappointed in myself. The entire drive to work I felt like was in a daze. I don't remember anything on the radio. I cant recall anything about my commute. As I walked up to the building, my eyes kept welling up with tears. I don't know what I was sad about. I don't remember what was upsetting me. I was just wiped clean. Numb. I sat down at my station and begin setting up just like I do every other day. But looking around, things did not seem the same. I tried making conversation with a coworker who I have not seen in over a month, and I tried smiling through her stories, but I don't remember what they had pertained to. When people would come by asking how I was today, I would try and force a smile and say “Fine”, but there was NO WAY that it could be believable anymore. The plan of attack needed to change. The mission was no longer “Fake it till you make it”. It went to Code Red. It was now Operation Just Make It Through The Fucking Day. But with every minute that passed, the tension inside kept building up. The restlessness started setting in. A supervisor asked if I was alright. “I can perform my job. That's all that matters” was my response. Yeah, that didn't last long.

I ended up running a fairly simple rescue. But it seemed like everything I attempted to do required SO MUCH effort! 3 hours into my shift, I messaged my supervisor back. “I need to leave. I thought I could make it through my shift. I'm sorry.” On my ride home I contacted an old friend and former therapist who listened to me as I broke down everything that has been going on. And as I walked from my car to my front door, I remember telling myself “You just have to make it to the couch”. And that was as far as I got. The next few hours were spent having panic attacks and crying spells. I contacted one of my Leads at work and told him that I was not doing well. I needed to take a few days off from work. Mental health days. I needed to heal. I had cracked.

We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven’t you?

So with that, we will end this chapter. But tune in next time for more of what caused this collapse, and the rebuilding behind it.