#helinala

[we-are-a-dragon]

Thaddeus (khajiit paladin): *hand on weapon* Who are you, and why are you here?

DM: The hag’s voice is raspy and unpleasant. “I was sent here by my master, Helinala Summerleaf.”

Thaddeus: Wait a second. Does that name sound familiar?

DM: The guy who hired you is named Verris Summerleaf.

Godric (fairy warlock): What’s under the furs?

DM: “Her phylactery.”

Godric: She’s a lich?

DM: She puts her hands up placatingly. “She used white magic only... Phylacteries are not only the realm of evil mages. I was sent to retrieve her spellbook and reunite it with her soul, but she didn’t give me permission to enter the house before she died. I’ve been clanking and clawing to get Verris’s attention.”

Thaddeus: White magic?

DM: “She’s a good person. This is her last wish, to bring her peace.”

Godric: And we have only your word for that?

DM: She shrugs. “You make a good, if somewhat racist, point.”

[we-are-a-dragon]

Party recap:

The Travelling Trauma Centre parted ways with their celestial companion, the Divinity of Conflict, and were left uncertain what to do while waiting for Things to Happen. They investigated a haunted house, finding a hag in the attic and helping her to repay a life bond by reuniting her master’s spellbook with her phylactery - only to find out that the mage was not, in fact, dead. On the way back to their tavern, they witnessed a messenger pigeon, carrying requisition orders from the leader of the witchhunters, being shot down.

[we-are-a-dragon]

Godric (fairy warlock): I have a look for clues in Helinala’s bedroom.

DM: As Wild Margritte implied, Helinala was an amazingly disorganised person. Her room is almost impossible to find anything in, but you do turn up a locket under her pillow. There’s an engraving of a young elf inside it.

Godric: I take it back to the library and ask Verris if he recognises the subject.

DM: He’s an absolute mess from reminiscing about his sister and their childhood by now. He takes the locket and bursts into tears. “It’s me! She had this locket made when we were children and she thought I’d died... I didn’t know she’d kept it all this time!”

Seraph (siren sorcerer): Have you tried your own name?

DM: He sniffs and says, “Verris Summerleaf?” The golden cage pulses, then retracts.

Godric: ...

Seraph: ...

Everyone: ...

[we-are-a-dragon]

DM: Godric, you’re in a large, well-lit room that looks like it’s been carved from natural rock. It’s lined with bookshelves and magical artefacts, but overshadowing everything is a large pedestal with an old, heavy book on it, surrounded by a cage of crackling golden energy.

Godric (fairy warlock): It may have been a mistake to come here alone... Can I see a way out?

DM: Behind you is an identical bookcase to the one in Helinala’s study.

Godric: I pull on the same book that brought me here.

DM: You’re teleported back.

Godric: Okay, good. I go back in.

DM: Wild Margritte is pacing around the pedestal, looking frustrated.

Godric: How do we get it out?

DM: She grunts. “I don’t know. Helinala didn’t have time to be super specific before she sent me to the attic.”

Godric: Okay, I go and get the others.

[we-are-a-dragon]

Seraph (siren sorcerer): If you want to talk to Verris, we should call him up here.

DM: She nods vigorously. “That would be extremely helpful.”

Seraph: I go to the ladder. Mr Summerleaf? There’s someone here who wants to talk to you!

Thaddeus (khajiit paladin): *leans down* A hag!

Seraph: You’re not helping.

DM: Verris says, “What?” He looks into the attic, sees Wild Margritte, screams and falls off the ladder.

Seraph: You’re really not helping.

Thaddeus: Your sister’s dead!

[we-are-a-dragon]

Thaddeus (khajiit paladin): I make a Religion check on the phylactery.

DM: It’s a perfectly-made phylactery, but it’s empty. There’s no soul inside it.

Thaddeus: Right, Helinala probably survived then.

DM: Wild Margritte looks long-suffering. “Why can’t I leave, then?”

Godric (fairy warlock): Maybe you just need permission. I go back downstairs. Verris, can the hag leave?

DM: Verris nods. “Yes, please get out of my house.” She tries to step out the front door, succeeds, and runs off down the street crowing “I’m freeeee!”

Godric: Sooo, Verris... Your sister may not be dead after all.

Seraph (siren sorcerer): Don’t get your hopes up.

DM: He looks confused and distressed.

Thaddeus: We could go and look for her, for an additional fee. Oh, I fail my Diplomacy check.

DM: He waves you away. “Leave me to my maybe-mourning.”

[we-are-a-dragon]

Seraph (siren sorcerer): I make an Arcana check on the energy cage.

DM: It’s password-protected.

Seraph: Of course it is. I go find Verris.

DM: He’s having a cup of tea, in shock about the news of the death of his sister.

Seraph: Mr Summerleaf, I’m sorry about your loss. Are there any words or phrases, maybe names from your childhood, that would have been meaningful to Helinala?

DM: He nods tremulously. “Maybe... There was-”

Seraph: Can you just come and list them out loud in her library?

DM: He comes with you.

[we-are-a-dragon]

Godric (fairy warlock): So where would Helinala’s spellbook be?

DM: Wild Margritte strides through the house. “She said it was in her secret library.” She gets to what seems to be Helinala’s study, then looks around, a little lost.

Godric: I make an Arcana check.

DM: One of the books in the bookshelf is magical.

Godric: I point it out to her.

DM: “Thanks!” She pulls it out and vanishes.

Godric: Uh, uh... I pull it too.

DM: There’s a slightly disorienting sensation as you’re teleported into a large, cavernous room.

Godric: This may have been a mistake.