Session Ten:
Heart of Inordinate Darkness

After weeks of travelling through deepest Wildspace, the need for the crew to get off the ship and stretch legs becomes increasingly clear, while Khalid and the two Basiles continue to suffer from psychological wounds inflicted on them by the ghost ship, Cygnet Terrace. The Inordinate Amount stops at a remote asteroid, the kind it has passed many times before. There, they find the remnants of a homestead, ransacked by marauders. Further investigation leads the heroes to discover that at least one of the children of the murdered inhabitants is still alive and being trafficked, likely for slavery or soup. Back underway, the goblins have prepared a ceremony for Khalid, to formally promote him to “Whip,” or “Lieutenant” in the rank order of the Federation. On the final approach to the Rock of Bral, as feared, they are waylaid by a pair of Nautiloids, Illithid spelljammers. A mindflayer commander, Occipitan, demands that the neogi Skitterix and his broodmates be turned over. When he discovers that Skitterix is not on board, he makes other demands. The heroes respond by feigning a massive explosion and rendering the ship invisible. In the ensuing confusion, the Amount banks hard, closing the distance with the enemy ships. It reappears as suddenly as it vanished, with all weapons systems blazing. Having placed one of the Nautiloids between itself and the other, it launches its spelldashers and skillfully evades enemy fire. At one point, it literally smashes through one Nautiloid to threaten the other. With their ship’s weapons spent, the heroes vanquish the second enemy vessel with their own skills and magic. After rescuing two slaves and salvaging what they could from the wreckage, they carry on their way. Not far from Bral, they are hailed by a charming pirate who evokes the name of Jeniffer—the Agent of the Unspoken who unwittingly bound them to their fates in Wildspace in the first place—and offers to escort them the rest of the way. All he seems to want in return is a friendly chat.

Since the anomaly there’s been no more time weirdness, other than the way shipboard life takes on a timey wimey quality all its own. It’s been three weeks, four days, nine hours, 27 minutes and a thousand years. Whether on the high seas or in deepest wildspace, such is the life of a sailor.

There has been one brief stop.  A few hours on a small asteroid because Gurunk’s bad habit of chewing parts of the ship was becoming problematic, and the Shannons put their collective feet down. He needed a run. And frankly, you all needed a few moments away from one another, to be alone with yourselves. Be careful what you wish for. While there, you found a ransacked farm, including evidence that its former inhabitants – at least two families - had been murdered or taken by marauders within the last month or so. There was little easy salvage left, and it was a stark reminder of just how precarious life must be on the Inner Grinder. 

Looking out at the great glowing gas clouds, sparkling debris fields, and twinkling stars glowing on the inside of the distant surface of the Shattered Sphere, you’ve caught yourself imagining what life must have been like for these people. What siren promises of freedom and self-determination could have pulled them to such a life? To risk such a death? It couldn’t have been the vistas alone.

Whatever it was they were looking for, you hope they had found it.

Khalid, you sigh inwardly and push down a small knot of fear. Whenever a goblin appears to give you an unscheduled report, someone is inevitably on fire, or someone has been stabbed, or someone is inside someone else’s mouth that shouldn’t be.

This time, apparently someone made a crack about Shroktath having been shrunk down to fit inside the gravity plane crawlspace, and Charlotte beat him within an inch of his life. He hasn’t moved in a few hours and quote, does not look quite right. You grab a satchel of healing potions that Basile keeps prepped for precisely these types of incidents. As you head out, you are egged on with a, “C’mon, c’mon, hurry!”

It takes you a moment to register what you are seeing. No one is lying, bleeding on deck. Everyone is standing in parade, and it’s… not terrible. Connor bellows, “Ten-shun! Boss on deck!” Something catches in your throat.

You come astride Coalman and ask with a raised eyebrow, “What the hell’s going on?” He responds the only way he knows how – verbally and at length to say, “It was all them, sir.” It looks like the rest of the Command party has been gathered as well. Even both Shilynn and Luckums.

Connor walks you through the ranks. Boots polished, mismatched threadbare uniforms freshly mended. Glenn gives you a nod. Blaine suppresses a giggle with a foot stomp from Veronica. Thank goodness. You were beginning to worry you’d slipped into another Wildspace anomaly.

Connor speaks. “Sir, Boss, sir. We all know you are Corporal which is a Prod, same as me. Well, it doesn’t seem right sir. Your being a Boss and all. Well, you’ve taught us all about your ways, well this is one of ours. The rank and file get to choose who amongst us we follow. The selection process usually involves eating things we shouldn’t without throwing up, but we all figured that we’ve been through enough to skip that part… thing is Boss… we select you. You’re not just a sergeant, Boss, you're a Boss.”

With that, he takes out a coil and holds it out to you with both hands. It’s a whip, fashioned from twists of goblin hair and strips of threadbare uniforms. It occurs to you then that “Whip” is the Horde rank for Lieutenant. Your crew just made you an officer.

Shroktath, whether you like it or not, you have a new best friend. You still aren’t sure if you are her ward, or she’s yours, but since you healed Charlotte in the gravity plane hull, she has taken it upon herself to never leave your side.  You saw something change in the way she looked at you the moment her eyes fluttered open. There was a peacefulness and quiet confidence that had never been there before. Like she had found her place.

To be clear, there’s nothing romantic about her new feelings towards you. Despite the kissy kissy noises the other goblins made for about 20 seconds after the change in her attitude towards you became clear. She made sure that didn’t last long. She has taken it upon herself to act as your personal majordodo to the point of ignoring her shipboard duties to favour her self-assigned duties to be on hand to do whatever Shroktath might want her to do. Your armour and weapons have never been cleaner or more well oiled and cared for. Her job is now to stand by and look suspiciously at anyone who approaches him. She listens intently to everything you say, nods sagely when you speak, imitates your bearing and attitude and even your way of speaking. You know a little something about life debts among the Hordlings. You are now bound to one another whether you like it or not.

On the plus side, she’s picking fewer fights, so more goblins are getting their own work done.

Basile, these past few weeks, in a strange way, you’ve gotten to know yourself better. You find yourself watching Other Basile, while keeping your distance of course. The deep unease and nausea his presence evokes hasn’t gone away, but you have almost gotten used to it. It wasn’t until after your day at the abandoned asteroid farm that you realized what it felt like to not feel him around again. It was a relief, but you also felt like part of you was missing.

During the ceremony, you notice him watching you, making a show of watching the goblins. It actually gives you a rare opportunity to share a smile.

If you’ve been uncomfortable with the presence of Other Basile, the goblins have been horrified.

• Oh gods! Now there’s more than one of them to watch us all the time. This is so undair!

• He has supernatural powers – what sort of devil is he?

• I can feel him inside my brain!

Other Basile is learning Common again. You know it hurts him physically to do so, but you know he can handle it.

Luckums, you knew what the goblins were planning, of course. You’re the last person from whom they can keep a secret. They’d been planning this for days. Weeks, even. They’ve even created goblin trophies to award each of you. As pleasant as it is to hear their cheers and laughter, your mind is elsewhere.

Just before Khlaid was called on deck, you, he, Shroktath and Shilynn were deep in consultation. Shilynn has been taking stock of your situation, even as she has done her best to train you all and the rest of the crew to the best of her abilities, and her final report on the state of the ship leaves you deeply uneasy. The Amount is vulnerable. There’s crew enough for the rigging to function at full capacity or crew enough for the weapons to d the same, but not both at the same time. In the event that your spelljammer is attacked, you can have the best of either or a little of both.

This crew is as disciplined as it’s going to get under the circumstances. They’ve been drilled on the weapons as much as your meagre ammunition supplies will allow. You should be pleased. Shilynn managed a rare compliment, saying that you’ve gone from groundling lubbers to a not entirely incompetent crew of spacehands. Wow.

But she also said ,“As we get closer to the Rock of Bral, the danger of being intercepted will increase, especially f there’s anyone looking for us. They will lie in wait at all the approaches. It’s what I would do.”

• Connor: Goblins are looking forward to getting to the Rock of Bral and blowing off some steam.

When the attack comes—and as you know, it does come—it is as Shilynn imagined. On the approach to the Rock of Bral. At least you have chosen your battlefield. You are in a relatively open field with few obstacles or gas clouds for an ambush.

Two Illithid Nautoloids separate at a distance to begin a flanking approach.

A small gelatinous blob has been launched at the ship, and latches on the side of the hull and begins broadcasting a message from an illithid directly inside your brains…

Message Bomb: “This is Illithid Occipitan Rex, Commander of the Brain Freeze to the Crew of the Inordinate Amount – hand over Skitterix and his broodmates, and we will assimilate you into our crew without torture.”

Moments later… there’s another: “Ah, well, this is embarrassing. Skitterix isn’t there, is he? No matter. Hand over the Crown of Stars and four goblin specimens for experimentation, and the rest of you will be assimilated with the minimal amount of torture Really, I think it’s an extremely fair offer and you should be grateful.”

Another ship approaches. It hails you with a message spell from a great distance.

“Ahoy, Inordinate Amount. My name is Thaliose Hothex, Captain of the Brinkmanship. We have a common friend... Jennifer, a goblin of Sentar."

Captain Hothex is every inch a pirate. From his deep blue tricorn hat, to his black leather armour with red studs, his flapping cloak and his twin cutlass blades. He is also one of the most handsome, dashing and heroic figures ever cut. His teeth are perfect, his blue eyes twinkle and laugh, and his sunbleached hair has a life of its own, even beneath his hat. 

Literally half the goblins swoon when he sets foot on board. You’re pretty sure you hear Glenn sigh when he make a curt bow, acknowledging the crew with a traditional goblin greeting – perfectly pronounced – only after offering his glass steel sword to your own ship’s captain.

His dragon ship is a large vessel, fully twice the size of your own. Fully crewed from the looks of it, diverse and well disciplined.

• I’m here to make sure you get to the Rock in one piece. Looks like I’m a little late, as usual.

As  you approach the Rock, you can see him smile from the deck of your own ship, pointing out the three Nautiloids lingering at a respectful distance.

Shilynn had explained that the Rock is governed by a Board of Directors composed of its nine wealthiest merchant conglomerates. Each takes it in turn to act as a sort of Chief Executive Officer for a 6-month term. However, these terms have be known to be longer and shorter under all sorts of circumstances, ranging from the nefarious to the plausibly legitimate.

Ideological and moral neutrality are paramount on the Rock. Each of the nine conglomerates maintains a substantial guard of their own or on hire. Like all such places where claws is notionally sheathed, wealth is paramount.

Bral is dirty, noisy and crowded. And dangerous. There aren’t more than ten honest men in the whole city. But I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Although it is an extremely unsentimental place, its inhabitants are proud of their freewheeling reputation. It managed to remain neutral ground throughout the Nyn’Ylfen wars through sheer tenacity and will. You’ll be as safe there as you are anywhere, even if the crew will inevitably attract attention.

“From a distance, you can only imagine the smells and the sounds, and for most that’s more than enough,” Shilynn sighs. Cleary not for her. Her rigid clockwork form cannot hide her longing for this place.

The topside of the rock is covered with a city that tumbles down upon itself from a Castle perched high on its aftside, and literally toppling over its edges to the layers of docks and piers, swarming with speljammers coming and going at its fore.

The city is divided into districts occupied by a bewildering variety of races. Forests are visible on a handful of estates and public lands, providing essential oxygen, and from one angle you could see a lake glistening on topside.

Conversely, Underside is dominated by three great structures. A busy naval base of the Corporate Bralian Navy squats below a mighty citadel, and enormous sails used to maneuver the rock, known as the vanes. The vanes incorporate slender towers supporting hinged booms, and are crafted from some durable textile. To give you a sense of scale, they are nearly 200 meters tall and 200 meters long. The booms are held in place with iron castings weighing several thousand pounds, and the lower boom is supported at its outward end by an attachment on the sail itself. The towers are filled with winching machinery.

A gravity plane moves through the centre of the asteroid.

My friends need help. Khalid and Basile continue to be off. But it’s beyond me as to how to help them. I guess I’ve just got to be ready to try when we get a chance.

Garunk was starting to get cabin fever cooped up in the ship for so long. He'd actually started chomping down on the ship. The Shannons, his handlers, told us he needed to let loose a bit, so we found a big enough asteroid where we could dock for a bit. Sadly, it was the site of a small farm which had recently met a bloody end. We found evidence that two farming families had recently been living there. The adults had been murdered, the children taken into slavery. Likely by pirates or the like. Luckum worked some magic I’d never seen her pull off before - kinda neat kinda creepy at the same time. She found a doll of one of the children, and managed to “scry” (I think she called it) on her. She even managed to carry on a brief conversation with the young boy. There wasn’t much of a way I could think of to help the poor kid though - on an armed ship somewhere weeks away from us and heading towards slavery.

That one’s going to stick with me.

We got back on the ship, and the goblins - gods love ‘em - had prepared something special for Khalid. Connor presented Khalid with a whip insignia - the Horde’s version of an officer - and spoke about how much they’d grown to respect him and his leadership. I was so proud of them, and happy for Khalid, but then as we all waited for Khalid to say a few words I got a weird feeling in my gut. Khalid started to speak, stopped. I think I started to see his eyes water. He stumbled through a few words, the whole crew got uncomfortable, and he left with a half hearted “back to work” order. The goblins presented each of us with an award showing their thanks and respect for us. I wore my goblin crafted award with pride, and I went around and thanked each of them in turn. But I was worried.

Not long after, I went to see Khalid. I told him I knew he was in trouble and that I wanted to help. Khalid looked very tired. He said he knew he wasn’t right too, but that he didn’t know what to do. He said he’d appreciated me stepping up and helping to run the ship a bit more over the past few weeks since the terrors on the Cygnet Terrace, and that he needed time. I said that I thought I could help, and asked him to trust me. I placed my hands on his chest, closed my eyes, and I tried to feel that strange, beautiful energy I’d had when I managed to help Charlotte back from death’s doorstep. I thought about the depth of my friendship with Khalid - I’d trust him with my life - and how much we all loved and needed him. And then I felt it. A warmth came through me into my hands. I kept my eyes closed, but I could feel like a light passing through me and into Khalid. I kept focused on helping Khalid, I wanted to give of myself to him, and I felt like a part of my life went into him. I felt tired, but when I opened my eyes Khalid looked a bit better, I thought. He thanked me and we parted ways. But we both knew he still had a tough journey in front of him.

Damned confusing this change in me, but I feel like helping Khalid also helped me to get it a bit better. I’d been praying to Hieronius the past few weeks and nothing doing. I don’t think it has anything to do with Hieronius, or any set god really. It’s more like a connection with.... Life? All creation? Weird, but that’s what it feels like. 

Speaking of Charlotte, she’s been following me around like a lost puppy dog ever since I saved her those weeks ago. I guess the Horde goblins have some sort of idea of a life debt, and she feels that to me. I don’t think it’s anything more than that (thankfully), and gods know that Charlotte’s put an end to any whispers about kissy kissy stuff among the crew using her fists, elbows and teeth. She’s a scrapper. But she’s also seemed changed by her brush with death and being brought back by me. She seems calmer to my mind, more present, and focused. I’m fine with it, respect the sense of duty she feels in fact, but I ain’t treating her any different than the rest of our crew. She has jobs to do, and she better do them or she’s going to get a cuff across the head and a strip torn off her by me same as anybody else. 

There’s something going on with the Basiles too, but damned if I know what to do about that. I view both as Basile - my friend - and I try to treat them that way. There ain’t much of a chance to connect though. Both seem distant - in more ways than one - and talking to themselves… or something/someone else? It’s a bit creepy, to be honest. But I try to just be there for them, be calm, be ready, be a friendly presence in whatever way I can through whatever it is that they’re going through. It must be so weird for them, and I can’t imagine how hard it must be.

Anyways, we resumed our heading for the Rock of Brahl. We were getting close and Shilynn brought us together. She said that we were likely to run into some less than friendlies on the way there, as anyone in this strange spacey soup of a place that had heard of us would figure we’d be headed to the Rock eventually. The Compact, the Elves, the Illithids, Skitterex,... We’d brought a fair bit of unfriendly attention on ourselves in a short time. Yay us. And, sure enough, we ran into two nasty looking Illithid ships - Nautiloids - about a week from the Rock of Brahl, and their commanders made it clear that our brains were going to make a nice tasty treat. Well, not so fast brain suckers.

I could not believe how well the crew performed, from top to bottom. Luckums pulled off an amazing manoeuvre to start. We faked an explosion of the ship with magic and garbage and stuff, and at the same time she managed to make our ship - our whole ship - go invisible. Man, she’s gotten powerful. She scooted us around the side of one of the two ships, and then held us steady as a rock as we unloaded with everything we had at point blank range. I had our guns target a weak point in the middle of the swirl of the Nautiloid. It seemed to be what tied the whole structure together, and I was right about that. We exploited the weakness and their surprise further, slamming through the same weak point of the ship and sending the wreckage spiraling off into wildspace as we bore down upon the second Nautiloid. I know these Illithid bastards have mind control powers, so I really tried to focus my mind upon that second ship and on this thought - “It’s not too late to run.” 

They did try to run, but my crewmates weren’t having any of it. They were almost in a frenzy. Khalid and Luckums blocked their path, we were loading up nails and old shoes in the bombard by this point, but we scored a few more hits, and then the Basiles delivered a killer blow in a way only they could. They attached some sort of poison potion they’d been working on to one of our light ballistas, and we fired it into one of the open sections of the Nautiloid where it burst and spread. I felt a chill spread down my spine as little signs of panic appeared on the enemy ship. Luckums finished the doomed ship off with one of her magical fiery explosions and soon the burning, poisoned hulk was completely helpless and adrift.

Still the bloodlust was on my comrades. Khalid especially - I’d never seen him like that - wild gestures, animal sounds and movements. It was weird and upsetting. Khalid was still raving for us to attack, and our goblin crew were feeding the bloodlust back to him and then some. And then Basile stepped up and did the right thing, as he tends to. With a curt “shut up,” he silenced the goblins (they’re scared silly of him to begin with) and he put an arm on Khalid’s elbow. “It’s done,” he said, “and so are we. You taught me when I first came into the army - we’re not in the business of killing the helpless, of being beyond giving mercy. It’s done.” Suddenly, Khalid looked like he’d aged several years, and he slumped. His eyes glazed a bit. 

“We need to get out of here,” Basile said softly to Luckums. “This place isn’t good for us. It’s not good for Khalid or for me.” Basile seemed to admit that he and Khalid hadn’t been right since the Cygnet Terrace, and that this was stirring all that up again. We made one final pass through the wreckage, and Luckums managed to pick up two surviving Illithid slaves - Lizardmen, it turns out - and a bit of wreckage before we got back on our heading to the Rock of Brahl. It sat heavy in me, this battle. These were Illithid ships - I wouldn’t shed a tear for their evil masters. And we needed to defeat them. They would have happily gone through our brains like a hungry family scorfs down the insides of a ripe gujamellon. But I felt for the life that had been lost, especially the poor enslaved crew of the Nautiloids, forced by the Illithids, as it turns out, to their death at our hands. I felt no joy in that.

A couple of days after that, we came across another ship. Beautiful thing - looked like a dragon. Almost twice the size of our Inordinate Amount. All of us were keyed for battle still, suspicious, but their Captain seemed like a friendly, charming fellow. He said we had a friend in common - Jennifer. I’ll be damned if I knew how he knew that, but he came aboard, shared dinner with us, and offered to escort us to the Rock of Brahl. I could tell that Luckums in particular still had her doubts, but I didn’t see that we had any great options. Their ship could have easily overpowered ours. I got a sense that their crew was far more seasoned than ours, and that we weren’t about to get away either. If this Captain had hostile intentions, and Basile didn’t think that was so, then we were in for it anyway. And if not, we could certainly use the help getting to a safe harbour.

Which is what we did. A couple more Nautiloids sniffed around as we got even closer to our destination, but thought better of it with our new ally (we hoped) alongside.

At long last, we approached that place we’d been hearing about since the very beginning of our time in Wildspace so many months ago - the Rock of Brahl.

Dakarday Umberweek Aersira in the 49th Annum Independencia -Day 195

It had been twenty-five days since the anomaly had collapsed.  I had managed to get a daily schedule of rest and reflection set due to strong leadership from Coalman and Shroktath.  The only break in that routine was the parade to mark our 180th Day as crew of the Inordinate Amount on Dakarday Eoweek Aesira.  Shroktath had made fine medals for the whole crew that he called the Copper Award of Ship's Service.  It was a pleasant enough day of feasting and revels and importantly for the goblins, a day of light duties.  It did lighten my mood somewhat in spite of my current depression and the general acknowledgement that we had spent so long away from Sentar.

During this routine period, I focused on using our spellbooks and ship’s library to develop a magic incantation that I call the Rite of the Centered Mind.  It takes an hour to complete but it allowed my will to carry on so much stronger and afterwards I was able to focus on the tasks of the day.  I still do not feel the clarity of my right eye or the thrill of magic in the tips of my fingers.  I had however managed to do a bit of reading about our destination, the Rock of Brahl, from sources in our quant library.  Fascinating place; I looked forward to seeing such a sight.

I was summoned to the latest crisis as Gurunk was pulled off the bulkhead he had been eating.  Shannon Two put her foot down and said he needed to stretch his legs or more destruction would follow.  We landed on Asteroid 73XB1 which one of our charts called “Green Downs”.  We found two farms that had been looted and destroyed by pirates.  Our investigations found little except the names of the victims:  the Bellhain and Televor families.  We gathered the bodies and the goblins build a respectful funeral pyre as the center of a memorial for them.  Luckums was able to find a small popit in the forest and used it to scry for the child.  This child, Carmy Bellhain, was locked away in a slave cage and spoke to Luckums about his popit, Mr. Doddlebop, but mostly about how scared he was.  We will have to try to free these slaves as soon as we determine what we need to do at the Rock of Brahl.  We returned to Wildspace and resumed our course.

[Placeholder: image, tropical home]

Day 196 - Moraday

The next morning I was awoken by Veronica as she explained another fight among the goblins and the resulting drama.  However, it was a ruse to cover a parade that the crew had put together to honour me, Shroktath, Luckums and Basile Prime.  The goblins had decided to appoint me as their “rhaakhec” or “whip”, the Horde word for officer or lieutenant.  As they presented the badge of office that they had made, I was overwhelmed both by the sentiment and the specifics of the responsibility.  Thank Cuthbert it was not woven with chain.  I tried to bluster in goblin but stumbled over my words.  I sent them all off to their duties and retreated to my cabin.  Shroktath went with me and we talked about my struggles.  He again channelled the power of Hieroneous and it lifted the dread within my skull for that day.  It gave me enough focus to try to speak to the Other Basile.  I went to the Workshop and began working on some alchemical rounds with silver bullets.  It was an intriguing problem I knew would entice Other Basile to investigate.  When he came, I spoke to him cautiously but at length.  I insisted that Hazzle was unique and valuable and would always be welcome on our crew.  

[Placeholder: image, goblin with top hat & sword]

The Battle of the Patch - Freeday Umberweek Aesira, 49 AI (Day 197)

Luckums had been working on a way to infuse the ship with invisibility magic and successfully tested it on a flamewing.  It was just in time though because our manoeuvring around to avoid attacks had come to an end.  Two days from Brahl in an empty corner of wildspace called the Patch, we were set upon by two illithid nautiloid class warships, the Occipital Lobe and the Brain Freeze.  They demanded our surrender in exchange for slavery.  Instead we feigned our surrender as we went invisible, faked an explosion and drove head long towards the Occipital Lobe.  Luckums executed a complex manoeuvre that brought all our weapons to bear just as we became visible again.  The damage was immense and the sounds, crushing.  I saw a headless crewman spiral off into space.  I buckled for an instant as the sounds of chains echoed in my head.  I grabbed the railing and steadied myself.  A card flipped over inside my head; I vowed their end.  No survivors.  My vision narrowed and I only saw red.  We rammed the Lobe and engaged the Freeze.  It attempted to run but we manoeuvred it into the wreckage of the Lobe.  I watched with glee as it breathed its last, listed to the side and drifted into the vastness of space without intention.  Luckums launched a fireball at it to create a bonfire for the goblins.  Their battle fever began to accelerate and I wanted to actually board it to dispatch its villainous commander.  Shroktath and Hazzle were beside me trying to retrain by bloodlust.  I felt the battle trance slip from me as I succumbed to exhaustion.  Before Basile took me from the main deck, I ordered a sweep of the debris field for survivors and salvage.  The illithids make mind slaves and their crews are true victims.  We managed to rescue two lizard folk from the Brain Freeze.  Hopefully we can convince them to stay on with us as crew;  we sorely need more.

[Placeholder: image, ship in Wildspace]

Arrival at the Rock of Brahl on Selunday Eoweek Korda 49th Annum Independencia

The next day we are hailed by the Dragonship of Thalious Hauthez offered us safe escort into Brahl.  He was charming and self-serving but had some connection with Jennifer so we accepted his escort and made no promises.  The Rock of Brahl was an indescribable wonder and saturated with peril.  We needed to harbour there to repair our ship, find allies and crew and meet with this Hooper Meadowtop.

[Placeholder: image, ships landing]