"Wherever they are suffered to exist, the goblinoid races are a blight threatening the Garden of the Architects. They test our resolve as gardeners."  - From the Prologue to Righteous Fury: A History of the Nyn'Ylfen Wars

"Elves were old when the gods were young." - A saying in the Federation meant as criticism of anyone who believes their age or race or ability grants them a special status apart from others

Systemic Racism

“Wait. You’re a goblin?” Shilynn’s horror is unmistakable. Her previous responsiveness disappears completely.

It's as though she caught you in an Elven sanctuary, bird watching, or having a BBQ, or trying to get into a swimming pool. There's a word in goblin for this type of person. "Karen."

To perform that dog-shaking-off-water maneuver she used to clear the decks, She had to thrust her mind deep into Luckum’s own; the goblin’s request to do something being all the permission she needed. The intrusion didn’t give her access to Luckum’s deepest secrets. It was more akin to someone opening the door to a house, walking through, having a look around before leaving out the back. But it was enough.

For Luckums, the experience is similar…

Once Upon Time…

Once upon a time, there was a spelljammer ace named Shilynn.

She may not have been the most skilled pilot in the Imperyion, nor the most experienced or decorated, but few could match her swagger, her assertiveness, or her exorbitant appetite for drink and entertainments.

Although some called her reckless, suicidal and quite possibly insane, there was no questioning her audacity, creativity and love of space flight. For her, being a pilot wasn’t a profession. It was a form of expression. Nothing so delicate as a way of feeling alive so much as a way of screaming at the universe that she had arrived.

The irony of her current predicament is not lost on her.

For all the time she spent imagining becoming one with her spacecraft, she never imagined that one she would literally become one with her spacecraft.

Meanwhile, On Deck…

It is highly likely that the last of the fires are out. However, you can’t find Blaine, so you have moderate confidence in your assessment. Nevertheless, the excitement roused by your achievement in taking the ship has not yet abated. You have to admit, the spontaneous and raucous celebration of your goblin mates is contagious.

Two more Orcs come to your side, and two remain loyal. Fearing that Skitterex is bound to come back, they even refuse efforts to remove their control visors. (Glar, Ghach + Grot, Goonk). However, all are keen to leave the ship at the first available port of call. None of them trust that the goblins won’t burn the ship down.  

The real challenge of having to fly this vessel and to where is now weighing on you all. As his compatriots swing from the rigging and do their best not to set any more fires, Connor stands before you, wearing several removed control visors on his head and waiting. “Whaddah we do now boss?”

A cyclopean hand reaches out to grab the Inordinate Amount. You can feel the ship reacting to the gravitational wave of pressure as a giant hand approaches to take hold the Inordinate Amount well before it happens. As soon as the thing makes contact with the vessel, everything and everyone onboard lurches towards the impossible creature.

An eye the size of a small moon (“That’s no moon”) wedged in a misshapen but distinctly humanoid face takes up the entire shipboard view before a concussion wave of sound hits, shaking the rigging and knocking half of you onto the deck with a bellow far greater than anything you have yet heard from Gurunk…

     "HEY YOU GUYS!" (in Gnomish)

[TUMULT wants the party to climb onto his back to dig up, uproot, or otherwise get rid of all the things causing the trouble. It especially hurts just below his shoulder blades where he can't reach to scratch, he tries to communicate. He isn't in a very good mood, since he can't sleep well and is constantly itching and in pain.]

Day 99 - Sularday Claireweek Berrona in the 48th Annum Independencia

Freeday (Day 98).  We had secured the ship and had barely survived.  The goblins were running amok and their joyous celebrations were intoxicating.  There was much to do and so little time to do it.  The skirmishing force we had built to capture the ship would not do to operate it.  We re-organized ourselves with our goblin and orc allies into departments of a spelljammer.  It took all the leadership effort and skill I had to get them into a semblance of order.  I counted my blessings that my efforts to learn goblin seemed to have a positive effect.  We quickly searched the ship and established control of the helm.  It was hard to even stand, we were all so injured and exhausted but my Sunterran squad was focused, dedicated and tireless.  We completed the minimum tasks to assure our immediate safety and went to sleep.

Sularday (Day 99).  The next morning we set out to clear the last last hold of the ship.  The air was getting stale but we could not solve that until we cleaned it of whatever foulness it contained.  We entered that compartment to find a new level of horror.  The orcs said the foul neogi in this room was called “Uncle” and was a a breeder of some kind.  Inside was the remains of Uncle and a swarm of neogi spawn that had been feeding on the carcass.  We sealed the door to devise a strategy when Bronwyn brought us a message about a giant grabbing the ship.

We returned to the upper deck to see an enormous hand the size of the spelljammer grab the ship.  It rocked the whole ship as it disrupted the gravity wave.  Shroktath’s quick wits saved Basile from flying off into wildspace.  This giant was loud and said his name was Tumult.  The ship rocked again and five of our goblins flew overboard.  Basile and Shroktath began recovering them (Lewis, Veronika, Edgar, Connor and Brendon) as Luckums returned to the helm.   Tumult spoke gnomish and indicated his back was injured.    My Sunterran squad climbed on to Tumult’s massive hand and he lifted us on to the Gump’s shoulder.

[I learned later that Luckums had had a difficult time convincing Shilynn to operate the ship.  She held vast hatred towards goblins from her time as a corporeal pilot in the Nilgin Wars. [DM: The Nyn'Ylfen Wars or The Un-Elven Wars] He finally had to shame her into recognizing her own racist ways and calling her “goblin”.]

Tumult’s back was covered in plants that provided him breathable air.  As we moved towards the center of his back, we found a crashed wooden ship overgrown with vines.  Two contaminated goblin zombies emerged from a ghastly flower.  I blasted the first one solidly with my pistol - that was bullet TEN since I rearmed myself at Fort Tcyz.  Shroktath dramatically dispatched that monster as I fired at the other creature.  I could see the number ELEVEN hanging in front of me as Luckums unleashed devastating fire magic at the flower.  What power!  It was then that the pollen from the plant overcame my senses.

When I came to, I realized my squad had finished the attack and we were able to move the flyer.  There was nothing underneath it but within it was apparently a treasure of inestimable value to Luckums:  quick silver!  She immediately began casting a series of spells and conjured a flying disk so she could fly.

We swung around to complete our patrol and Shroktath fell into a trench that was a significant wound on Tumult’s back.  [DM: The trench itself was not a wound, but a bulge in his back muscles forming Tumult's "spinal trench." However, part of it was filled with sticky blood from the actual wound on Tumult's back caused by the colony of krajen barnacles] As I threw him a rope, we noticed it had been caused by a large alien barnacle.  We attacked it as Basile developed an alchemical potion to defeat it.  It took precise shooting rather than maximum damage to have the best effect.  It was however Shroktath’s efforts opening the wound combined with Luckum’s careful delivery of the potion cure to win the day.  

We the barnacle destroyed, Tumult released our spelljammer and became our “fedhin” (gnomish for “friend”).  We brought back the small flyer and many exotic plants to the Inordinate Amount.  The flyer would need repair and I was certain a more detailed inspection would bring more surprises. 

Alexsis and Connor spent a substantial amount of searching and effort in that forest.  I was specific with them that finding plants to rebuild our air supply was essential to our survival.  I would need to work quickly with Basile to manufacture blackpowder at this point as I was below half of my ammunition after the last battle.

Tumult insisted that we take something from his treasure box.  Luckums was very motivated to take a large dragon scale that he found also carried a box of treasure which we would inspect and appraise forthwith.  Shroktath gave Tumult in return the broken oar from his fight with Dreek.  It was at that point that Tumult gently grasped our ship and cast us onwards into wildspace.  When we last saw him, he was pointing to a distant light and again said “fedhin”.

I’ll say this about life with my new squad mates - it hasn’t been boring. After we took the ship, the goblins were celebrating like mad, but even out of it as I was, I took it in. Our ship floating among the blackish blue blanket of stars, and I felt the deep joy of our victory spread through me like a sweet fire. 

I tried to get to my feet, but I almost tipped over. I was good where I was. Khalid managed to get the goblins on deck - no small deed - and gave a speech. Giving them some credit for the victory, promising rewards for good work down the road. He did pretty well with it, really, and I tried to be as supportive as I could. But I still felt like I was going to pass out.

We split up the goblins into teams with us, to try and get some handle on the ship. With me were Grunnel, one of our orc converts, Bronwyn, Lewis, Veronica, and Glenn. We were the “Marines.” We set to work sorting and repairing weapons, and cleaning off the decks of goop, and blood, and bodies. I tried to be like my old masters back at the temple - tough, clear, but with just a bit of friendliness in the mix too. I’m not very good at that sort of thing though, plus my body felt like it’d been run over by a team of horses and my head was on fire. Khalid headed up the “Painters,” and they started an inventory of the ships and repairs. I could tell Khalid wasn’t feeling so hot either, but he kept it together pretty good. Luckums was the “Pilot.” It seemed to suit her, and she set about reading up on “Wildspace” (I think someone called it). But it seemed like something was bothering her, too. I just couldn’t tell what. Basile was “Command,” but he headed off to sleep so he could make up some of those neat potions he can brew up to help Khalid and me.

We got the ship and ourselves in order over the next day or so, and we decided to check out that one creepy room in the bottom (?) of the ship that was locked. Maybe there was water down there? A possible threat to the ship? The air was getting stale on the ship - could there be something down there that helped with that? According to our orcs, “Uncle” was supposed to be in there, whatever the hells that meant. Grunnel, who was clearly frightened and grossed out said something like, “I dunno. It’s how the Nee Yo Gi mate. Don’t ask me more.” We opened up the door, I stepped in… and regretted it. The smell of rotting flesh, mixed with something even grosser, and a quick crawling mob of small Nee Yo Gis right beside me. I popped back out and slammed the door as quick as I could, but not before five of the little bastards got out. It was like a barn dance for a few seconds as we stomped the little creatures into gujamellon juice.

On the bright side, I thought, they might make a tasty stew.

While we were talking about what to do next, Bronwyn came dancing towards us from the upper decks. She’s singing to herself, spinning, playing with her dress (Hieronius help me, but the goblin girls are starting to look good. I hope there are brothels in this “Wildspace.”). “Ummm, I have a message for you.” Khalid tells her she’s pretty (she’s really not), and tries to pry it out of her. “Ummm…. Ummm… Something about… A big creature’s coming for the ship and we’re all going to die?” We rushed upstairs, but just as we get to the top deck, we go through one of those really weird Wildspace things that’s hard to describe - down can change. And just then, it did. We all get thrown off, Basile and some of the goblins go flying off the ship. I grabbed hold of a railing and barely managed to hook Basile with my right foot and bring him in just at the same time that I caught sight of the “creature” that Bronwyn mentioned. It’s the biggest fucking creature I have ever seen in my life. Like Hieronius’ holy asshole. It’s hundreds of feet tall? Bigger? It’s arm has to be at least thirty feet wide. It’s bigger than the Tarsa whales of the Wine Dark Coast, and I never thought I’d say that. It’s reached out, grabbed the ship, and this giant seems to be the direction of the new “down.” 

Weirdly, it spoke gnomish, which Khalid luckily, and with some troubles he managed to talk with this simple, but fucking huge, creature. “Tumult,” as we learned the creature was named, kept pointing at it’s back, and making sounds like it was in pain. The four of us geared up, and with some second, third, and fourth thoughts hopped onto Tumult’s hand to be brought up to its shoulder to see if we could figure out some way to help this giant, and so free our ship.

We begin to walk down this Tumult’s back, (this is so weird. If someone told me this story while boozing, I’d punch them in the chops for being a liar.) and on its back is like a whole forest and shit. I mean there’s areas it can reach and scratch that are more like small bushes and grass, but then farther down it’s like a forest. On the back of a space giant. Thing number fifty on the list of things I thought I’d never see when I joined the army..

Anyways, we go down the giant’s back, cause we need to figure out what’s causing the pain, and we come across the wreckage of a crashed ship, and there’s a couple of dead bodies inside and of course, because we found them, they’re some kind of zombies. They start stumbling towards us, and I’m going toe-to-toe with one, while everyone’s taking shots of different kinds at them. Luckums did something really smart. Beams of fire came out of her hands, and she hit this yellowish plant thing that I guess was controlling the zombies (what the fuck is it with this ‘wildspace’ and plants controlling zombie creatures anyways?) and the battle was won. Which was damned good, cause these zombies also seemed to let loose some kind of spores that made you feel ill when you breathed or touched them. The effect had gotten Khalid - a big loss to our squad - so I was glad we managed to finish them off so quickly, and Khalid seemed to snap out of it. 

We searched what was left of this little scout ship - it seemed like we could make some use of it actually. And then, with a small but notable gleam of pride in his eye, Basile held up something, a tiny tube of quicksilver, that he’d managed to pry out of the wreck for Luckums to see. I’d never seen her so happy. It was great. Luckums took the tube, and whipped up a spell that I’d never seen before. In a few moments, Luckums was balanced on top of a silver circle that was floating about five feet above the… earth? Tumult’s back? Wizards are so weird.

We kept going, as this didn’t seem to be the cause of the “owie.” As we walked farther down the spine, we spotted something strange. They looked like giant barnacles growing out of the giant’s back. Barnacles with wavy snake/arms coming out of them. I was so caught up with this weird sight that I didn’t keep my eye on my feet. I’d stepped onto the edge of a drop, lost my balance, fell flat on my ass and was sliding head first into a moving, giant’s-blood-covered, six foot gap between some of this Tumult’s back muscles.

I heard a frackas above me - the crack of Khalid’s gun amid sounds of combat. Tumult roared and his back muscles twitched and almost crushed me, but quick thinking Khalid had thrown me a rope, and I managed to use it and the motion of the giant to help me up and out of the goopy mess... and onto the wrong side of the battle. I was separated from my squadmates and facing down a small army of angry looking barnacle snake arms.

We sorted it out. Basile really saved the day, and brewed up some sort of mix that would make the giant taste bad to these brain things [DM: barnacles]. I pried up one and held it, just avoiding a smack from a snake arm, and Luckums flew overhead on her silver circle and dropped the mix into the opening using her magic like a boss. The brain things then basically came off on their own, and it was pretty easy to deal with them after that. 

A few hours later, and we’re back on our ship, with a bunch of plants, some other stuff we could gather, and what was left of the small crashed ship we’d found. Tumult was so happy, that it was hard not to feel happy too. He wanted us to take something from his bag of goodies that he dumped on the deck. While I was tempted by the dead cow, or the collection of weird bones, we eventually went for the magic dragon scale. Good call. There was a small box on the inside with a bunch of coins and a gleaming metal band in it. Khalid said he’d keep track of it for us. I trust him and everything... But I want it.

With that, Tumult, took our ship like a dart in a bar, and threw it in the direction of his “friend.”

Nothing like months of captivity and physical pain to sharpen the mind. I had spent the last few months theorizing about arcane mysteries and was eager to test my hypothesizes. After my first good night’s sleep in a long while, I awoke refreshed and set about rereading my arcane notes and scribbled out several new spells that had kept my mind from sinking too far into depression during our captivity. I knew we would probably face new dangers in our not so distant future and was glad I had found a way to focus my arcane energies to produce more potent yields. With a strong urge to survive, I perfected a way to refract my image into multiple copies for situations where hiding was no longer an option. For situations where my companions needed to hide, I discovered a way to un-synchronize a person from waves of light. This would render them invisible (but still noisy).

It was the joyful memories that got me through the months of forced labour. When we were whipped or when I was drugged into a mind-fogging state, I would escape to my past to the slopes and roof-tops of Riot’s Gate. A few of the neighbourhood kids and I used to “shield-ride”. This involved balancing while standing on a circular battered steel shield and gliding down a hill. The run between market square and the docks was the best. Later, when “working” for the Viper’s Watch I moved my skills to the rooftops. The time in captivity also allowed me to connect the dots between other experiences too. It is not until I recalled a memory of “watching-in” on the twits at the Prestigious Halls and Thaumaturgical Studies that I made this link to my passion for flying. At PHaTS, the young apprentices were trying to conjure into being a floating disk to carry weights around. They were being taught an extremely limited usefulness of the spell. By carefully balancing the disc, it would hover off the ground, however by tilting the disc, you could make it move. I quickly worked out all the theory of the spell, but I could not find the material components on the ship. Basile promised to help me find quicksilver.

I was a bit sad that the friendship with Shilynn had taken a sharp turn for the worse and her racism had really made me green in the face. I had always longed for an arcane companion. She of course was incredibly angry that I had verbally lured her into seeing the hypocrisy of her own hatred. She had become that which had hurt her so badly. Either way, we are not on speaking terms at the moment, which suited me just fine. I’ve been reading passages of the Nyn'Ylfen Wars book that was left in my helm room and must admit that I can feel my goblinoid urges and thrills surfacing. Thank goodness I’ve grown up civilized. Anyway, time for a break as Edgar has another juicy recipe for me to try. He’s been teaching me a lot about cooking just about anything.

It’s tough to undo old feelings when enemies are forced to become allies. I must admit, I am extremely impressed with Khalid. His Wine Dark Sea accent is funny to hear when he speaks goblinoid, but he has managed to get the goblins to listen and work with us. He’s very good at organizing people and resources and his group has started to oversee repairs and the logistics of the ship. We’ve all divided up into groups in order to run the ship effectively. Shroktath has the bulk of our peoples under his leadership. They have been kept busy clearing the carnage of our last battle and preparing for new ones. Soon they will get onto learning the various weapons our ship has on her. Basile is observant, wise and has sharp faculties. He has a hidden nobility to him that makes him well suited to lead.

As for my part, I’ve been working with Alexis and Edgar and spending my free time pouring over books and learning about wildspace and piloting a spelljammer ship.

Edgar is my hidden gem. As the “foodie” or cook of the ship, he talks little and listens a lot. His wisdom comes with his age. Anyway, I’ve been kept up to date on everything happening and not happening on my ship thanks to him. It seems everyone confides in him, whether he wants to hear it or not. He probably would have made a great bartender or therapist in another life. I am really enjoying my time in the kitchen with him. Working on recipes with him is like a mundane version of arcane experimentation and I can’t wait to try new reagents with him. Who would have known “stooo” could have described so many different types of foods?

Alexis is another story. She has a remarkably interesting background and history, and she has opened up quite a bit since Shilynn and I stopped talking. Her humour is a little sadistic and I’d preferred Shilynn didn’t overhear too many of her horde commando stories. Her healing abilities are remarkable, part natural magic, part natural knowledge. She seems to think she can refresh the air supply if she can setup a what she calls a greenery.

Once we had a little bit of time to get settled into our new roles and took stock of the ship, we decided it was time to explore the sealed hold. Inside is a horror know any as “uncle” by the former orc slavers. We did manage to get a quick look inside, or should I say a quick smell inside. Because of my goblin heritage, I can appreciate some smells others find repulsive, but by all the gods, I was glad when we managed to seal the door to that room again. I think I saw a large bio-mass inside but my attention was held by the multiple Neogi-spawn swarms, one of which escaped before we could close the door and it took us time to squash them all. (More reagents for Edgar). The clearing of this room would have to wait as we wrestled a message out of Bronwyn. It seemed a larger danger needed our attention first.

The rest of my companions rushed to the deck to see what manner of giant had grabbed our ship as I made my way to the helm to maneuver the ship out of harms way. There is still a lot for me to learn about piloting this ship, Unfortunately, Shilynn still wasn’t too cooperative and I failed to free the ship on my own. Following Shiylnn’s advice, I decided to join my companions and help deal with the ship-grabbing Gump. Giant is not the word I would use to describe it.

Khalid had managed to communicate with it and was proposing we explore its back to see what was bothering it. This little adventure quickly turned into a jungle safari as we hacked our way through the dense landscape that was the giant’s back. Something had tainted the surroundings and we eventually came to a crash site clearing containing and deserted skiff. I immediately wanted to salvage the mini flying ship and add it to our vessel. First, we had to deal with fungus-zombie-making-plant that had claim the spot as its own. Several Spore-Spouting zombies emerged and started to crawl forward. I feared we would soon be joining their zombie-like ranks, and indeed Khalid seemed to be succumbing to their effects, and I scanned around frantically for the source of the infection. I guessed that the insidious looking yellow plant was controlling the zombie infestation and directed all my newly discovered arcane powers towards it. Luckily, I managed to lodge a precise hit and the plant itself seemed vulnerable to fire. As quick as the danger presented itself, it was over.

The ship was indeed salvageable but that was the least of our rewards. I couldn’t believe my luck when Basile managed to find the illusive liquid I had been pestering him for. Mercury! He had found some Mercury! I can barely contain my giddy laughter just thinking about it. I told my companions to take a break and I cracked open my spell book without missing a beat. It worked! I was able to recreate the floating disk I had seen the twits at PHaTS attempt.  I quickly grabbed the edge of the disc and hopped up on top, titling the sides up and down. I was flying again, but this time was so much better than any shield-surfing I had done in the past. I bet if I learned to use a shield properly, I could grab onto the side and flip the disc sideways to block an attack.

My companions continued the search for the Gump’s backpains. To be honest, I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have been as I darted around the jungle trees. We seemed to be heading away from the giant’s neck, which I though might end up being a pain in the ass. Sure enough, we came to a great chasm full of blood-sucking barnacles. Shroktath tried smashing some of them with his dancing glaive, Khalid blasted some with his infernal explosion wand, and I burnt at them with my arcane firebolts. Our attempts were half-assed. Basile’s cunning solved the stinking problem. Using the reagents around us, he mixed together a pruritus ani treatment which we carefully applied to affected areas. I really wasn’t bummed out to see this analogue come to an end.

Tumult was happy as… well you get the picture. He returned us to our ship and gave us a choice of his treasure as a thanks. I was just happy to have gotten some fresh air for our ship, but I used a detect magic spell and pointed at the dragon scale for my companions to claim. I might eventually be able to craft a nice piece of magical armor or shield out of it from one of my companions. Like pushing a toy ship on a pond, Tumult launched us off towards his friends. I am hoping this friend turns out to be the Rock of Brall.

[Looks like Tumult the Gump may have had a lot more going on than anyone realized! - DM]

I the traveller of ten forms, he who strides between worlds and the titan of the third eye relate with shame and embarrassment the harrowing tale of my recent brush with sickness averted only through the most comical and unlikely of means.  It was through my own curiosity and ego that I reached out with my ten senses and touched the astral tumor.  It was a sickness of the first sense. Little did I know that it held power and tendrils into many other planes and sought the host that would bear it to a new world, anchored and feeding like a cancer.

The tumor was a trap, an interesting mystery to entrap the curious.  With my first and eighth senses I touched the tumor.  Immediately I felt the pain emanating from all ten of my senses. A hidden parasite exploded across multiple planes and latched itself to my third eye.  Fungal spores grew from physical planar form and probing the site revealed that I had been laid low by a planar parasite of new and startling power.  I was in grave danger and unable to reach the site of the infection with any effective means at my disposal.  I needed help and quickly.  Already the spores had dampened my tenth sense and made navigation difficult and quite painful.

I reached out with my second and third senses and there I spied a ship of the first plane, a simple vessel of the grounded races who travel the great ways like mice scuttling through a house, unable or unaware of the splendor around them.  I moved towards them and noticed that they had stopped and that small fires were burning aboard their vessel.  It would seem that we were both in peril.

I grabbed their vessel with as steady a hand as I could muster, and attempted to communicate with all of the senses and means at my disposal.  But grounded races hear not the astral wind, see not the light of the ever reach.  My precise and detailed account of my problem, and the solution was instead translated into a series of grunts, waves and gestures.  How do you teach the blind to see, or the crippled to walk.  Such a thing is not possible in the moment.

A small party of party of grounded folk saw my distress and with great difficulty made their way to site of my infection.  Vanguards of the infection attacked them and I feared my rescuers would be snuffed out before they could even begin.  But to my surprise they were a capable and fearless band able to fight and think their way through the groups of parasitic warriors that guarded the cyst field.

Upon encountering the field they destroyed a cyst and its tendrils.  The cyst of the physical once destroyed eradicated tendrils winding through the other planes but the pain was horrible.  My body of the physical was barely able to still itself while they worked.  Sensing my distress they pulled back and time passed as I waited for them to resume their task.  All of a sudden I could feel the tendrils winding through me withering.  The pain was lessened and I could once again reach out with my tenth sense to properly feel what was happening.  They had surmised an ingenious cure and method for delivering it, well done grounded folk!  Against hope they had been successful and I was truly thankful of their efforts.  I allowed them to see my collected treasures from walking the planes, but alas they were only able to see those artifacts of the 1st and 3rd senses.  In the end they chose well and we departed friends.