The following is the in-character diary entry of Shal Noctis, a character in the live-play TTRPG podcast Spooky Dice Bag. This entry covers the following episodes: 154, “Mingle and Rangle”; 155, “Everyone Loves a Parade”; 156, “The Battle Begins”; and 157, “What a Whole Lot of Stabby Stab.”
You can listen to the embedded episodes below. Please note that Shal’s entry only covers up to one portion of episode 157.
1498 DR – Day 74,000 – Survival Report
I am pleased to report that we survived. As suspected, the Boneshaper clan had attacked the procession as it arrived at the temple. We managed to defeat them handily, and I must say I am quite impressed with my new allies.
Astrid’s powers make me nervous. She seems like a kind person, but the kind of spiritual energy she can throw around has me nervous, given my state of being an undead abomination. This is not me being self-deprecating, either. I know my existence is an aberration, and it’s not an issue if I will even be caught in her crossfire, but when? At a moment of crisis, she may need to engage in wide-scale spiritual magic, and I will burn. I am not going to blame her, though. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. I just need to be ready to move when she burns the world in a holy fire.
Given Astrid’s powers, one might assume I’d be most worried about her, but the one who caught me off guard was Randril. Something incredibly strong resides in him, despite his shy and self-conscious nature. There is something fated about the dragonborn; there is a touch of the divine, but what, I am not sure. I’m intrigued.
I find Umbra and Forte to be quite competent in combat, and they did not hesitate to get involved in the fight. Umbra was quick to join up with my position in the melee. My main concerns with Forte were outside of the fight. As we reconvened later, something felt off, and given the idea that he may have a rather intimate connection to a god, I couldn’t help but admit a sense of caution about Forte. As for Umbra, he reminds me a bit of myself when I was alive. It is almost as though we could be related.
As for Deliverance, she rather upset me. I find myself unbalanced as a result.
Echo of the Worst Day of My Life
I found myself upset about Deliverance’s decision to shut the temple door. I understand why, as she has a natural desire to protect others, as much as she’d likely protest that assessment. She is a skilled fighter, but there is a darkness to her. I am fascinated and find admiration for her. But I refuse to have anyone die for me when I have no right to exist. As far as I am concerned, she was throwing her life away.
We had been told to take different positions within the procession to the temple. As the procession reached its destination, a group of fifty Boneshapers approached, and we managed to signal one another regarding the movement in the east. However, it became necessary for me to enter the temple to convey what I observed, and by then, Deliverance had shut the door.
I must admit that my feelings on this are complicated, given my last moments of life. Being locked in a temple that is under siege reminded me of my brothers and sisters and my unholy awakening from death, only to discover they had long since died.
I leaped into action, escaping the temple through a window. It was partially to aid Deliverance and my allies, but I won’t hide the truth that it was also fear. This was one of those times when selflessness and self-preservation aligned.
As I see it now, I must be their shield.
As for the fight itself, I prefer not to dwell on combat, but I can admit that I pulled my weight. The Hand of Selûne trained warriors. Even in death, that is something I can lean on.
Waning Moonmaiden
Upon the surrender of the remaining Boneshapers, an individual arrived from a portal. I was ready to continue the fight, but it turns out he was a member of the Strixhaven faculty who had prior experience with a number of the members of the party. This figure, Jace, seemed to convey urgent updates about the magical college. But we had a few things to wrap up before we could travel.
Given the circumstances, I felt a bit off balance. I tried to calm myself by collecting some teeth as my allies said their goodbyes and tied up loose ends. As my existence necessitates the replacement of parts, the gathering of remains is a grim work, and is often secretive. It is hard to explain that I need teeth to replace the ones I often lose by being struck in the face.
I still could not shake the terror I felt, though – the echo of my final, terrible moments of life. The voice of my goddess did not help in that regard either.
I’ve heard voices for centuries – the voices of my brothers and sisters, and the Moonmaiden herself.
Selûne’s presence is… rare and cryptic, even at her most forward; and suffice to say, she has not illuminated me as to why I was given an unholy life. Our conversations are one-sided and brief. I fear she is disturbed by me. In life, her grace felt like light shining moonlight on my skin. Now, that light is eclipsed.
I could only make out a single word.
“Mask.”
Perhaps my devotion has waned in some capacity – perhaps I am not working hard enough to complete my mission. Perhaps I haven’t passed on the Hand’s knowledge. Perhaps I haven’t tracked down enough of our relics.
Perhaps I have not killed enough Sharrans.
To be continued in Spooky Dice Bag #158.
