While not a stranger to bizarre notions, Vec prided himself on his memory and could generally remember the circumstances under which an idea took hold. However, the current notion plaguing his thoughts, that he was incapable of learning from his experiences until they had been recorded in a journal, felt imposed on him by some outside agent. While some might have taken this for an indication of divine meddling in the affairs of mortals, Vec suspected the usual cuplrits: falling under the influence of a mind control cap, being drugged with an elixir of amnesia, or temporarily playing host to a hitchhiking psychic parasite. Having reduced the notion to one that fit with his world view, Vec visibly relaxed and returned to work on his journal.
While he had not met of his adventuring companions before, he had exchanged some correspondence with them and felt sure that they would mesh well as a group. Following directions he had obtained from Birgit at the Green Dragon Inn, Vec rounded a turn on the steep trail leading towards the ruins of Castle Greyhawk and caught sight of a group clad in distinctive orange vests clustered before the entrance to the Tower of War.
Hurrying to meet the intrepid band, Vec found them conferring before a deep pit that stood before the doors to the tower. Not wanting to delay the exploration of the ruin, one of the group’s arcanists, a human named MacColl, summoned up beams of light to carry him over the pit. Not to be outdone, Vec activated his mechanical wings and followed him over. A rope was tied off and handed back to the rest of party. There was some talk of the possibility of the pit being illusory and the best way to test for that. MacColl had indicated that he would be trying to detect the presence of active arcana in the area, which seemed a reasonable approach. However, as Vec and Tanner began examining the area for traps, there was a bloodcurdling scream that ended with a loud thud coming from the bottom of the pit. It turns out that Liam, obviously a man of strong convictions, was also a man with a strong fear of rope, for no sooner had the rope been tied off than he leapt for safety, taking refuge in a dark corner of the pit. While he tried to offer an explanation for his actions, in the absence of evidence of hitchhiking psychic parasites, this seemed most likely a fear of rope.
Despite Liam’s fears and an impressive number of musculoskeletal injuries, he was still able to effectively summon divine energy against the skeletal warriors and steeds we encountered immediately inside the tower. The rest of the party also acquainted themselves well, demonstrating that they were indeed a formidable force when combatting undead rather than gravity. Lunk’s axe chopped through the animated bones as if they were twigs while arcane blasts of fire and bolts of light from our casters lit up the room. The taunting from the gnome Ricben even seemed to jar the normally implacable undead.
With the skeletons laid to rest, the group was surprised when the skeleton’s wagon revealed itself to be an animated construct and continued trying to roll over group members while they valiantly struck glancing blows at it. Tiring of this, MacColl collected his energies and let loose a blinding flash of light at the hellspawned wagon. When our vision returned to use, nothing remained of the wagon. In fact, it was somewhat surprising to see that the Tower of War remained standing. MacColl, on the other hand, looked less steadfast, supporting his weight by leaning on a pillar. He admitted that he had overextended himself with that last casting and would have to rest before channeling arcane energies again. While there was initial condideration given to camping in or near the tower, MacColl explained to us that arcane energies replenish themselves faster while in the embrace of some beautiful creature. It was thereby decided that we would return to the Green Dragon Inn for the sake of efficiency and we set off back down the hill.