Player: Player 13
Species: Human
Class: Monk
Pale and brooding, in very fine robes and no armour. His dyed black hair keeps falling into his eyes however often he tosses it back, and he wears dark liner round them. He is, everyone agreed, definitely not a vampire.
Veins of Silver Fire
Session 3: Definitely Not Cultists
- The governor: he hovered at the threshold of the governor’s office until he had been properly invited in. His robes, he observed, didn’t buy themselves. At the dockside tavern he ordered the reddest, driest wine in the house and was given ale.
- The camp: he found the spiral eye scratched into an overturned ore cart. Definitely no cultists here. Then he climbed above the entrance and hauled stone from on top until the gap was wide enough to walk through stooping.
- The lift: he walked along the ceiling of the tunnel, heaved one rope while Bobby took the other to free the lift, and declined a helmet because he dodged better than any of them. He does not do lifts, so he walked up the wall beside it.
- The burrowers: he dropped from the wall onto a bulette with a barrage of blows and left it sick with poison. When Bobby’s hammers had knocked the other’s plates askew, he found the pressure point beneath and finished it with one precise strike.
- The rest: in Zarek’s shelter he used his own inner energy to heal his companions, Bobby most of all.
- The peninsula: a salamander coiled up his body, crushing and burning him, and he beat it with his fists until it sprang off him. He stunned another, seized it, leapt thirty feet straight up with it in his arms and let go at the top, landing lightly beside it while Zarek shattered it with cold.
- The way out: he carried exhausted miners out two at a time under his arms and went back across the stone for the last man left.
Attendance Log
- Session 3: Definitely Not Cultists 2026-09-13