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: 158, “Back To School”; 159, “Being Anti Capitalist is Metal as Sh*t”; 160, “Dial 1-900-CORPSE-THERAPY”; and 161, “I Really Don’t Wanna Fight a Bunch of Dads.”
You can listen to the embedded episodes below. Please note that Shal’s entry only covers up to a portion of episode 161. You can get early access to the Scrolls of Noctis via the podcast’s Patreon.
1498 DR – Day 74,001 – Strixhaven Under Siege
It has been an eventful day. I write this now within a haunted inn, sitting in the illumination of the moon, as young Ms. Deliverance rests at the other end of the room.
Earlier this morning, I felt myself reliving (redeading?) one of the worst moments of my life, and I have carried it with me throughout the day as I’ve had to rapidly approach the strange new circumstances and crisis my new allies have found themselves in.
The oft-mentioned Jace had managed to find my party and ferried us rapidly through a portal to Strixhaven. My excitement to arrive at such an institution was quickly abated, however, as we learned that a fey figure, one Guy Fairy, some form of trickster restaurateur, had seemingly managed to wrest control of the school from the dragons who founded it. Some of the party had some experience with that specific Fey already.
I am still trying to understand it all myself. My dealings with the Fey are limited, and I prefer to keep them that way. I already had an unease with the idea of Strixhaven being on a different plane, as I find my periodic journeys into the Astral Realm disorienting enough. In my experience with other planes, I feel my link to the Moonmaiden stretched thin, and straying from Faerun-proper fills me with a certain dread.
In any case, I have already pledged myself to aiding my new allies, despite the protestations of Tovarn and the mixed messages of the Moonmaiden. I reason that with the school returning to proper order, I might be able to find the information I am seeking from the restored library.
But first, it must be restored.
I contributed what I could toward the plans and schemes for how to wrest control of Strixhaven back from the Fey, but as with all things involving the Feywild, I won’t hold my breath.
With that said, my organizational system for tracking our various schemes proved quite effective and in no way confusing to my allies. I’ve had centuries alone to ponder the mysteries of existence and think about the inefficiency of more organizational structures.
Inn of the Undead
Perhaps my allies’ relative ease with my undead nature is explained by the circumstances of the strange floating house we made our way to outside of the school. Apparently, in a previous adventure, they had worked with the ghost of one Sir Cornelius and seemingly managed to convince him to create an interplanar inn. Of course, the interplanar nature does irritate me a bit. We encountered a strange floating house, strange enough on its own, but when Randril threw me, I phased into an infinite mudroom. As it stands, the inn itself is disguised as floating through transmutation magic, but the actual physical inn is beneath the floating illusory house, which is on a different plane entirely.
My brains have long since rotted away, but even if they hadn’t, I doubt this would make any more sense to me. I had a lot to catch up on.
I was curious to learn of a fire elemental named Ember, whom Forte had a significant attachment to. I am looking forward to meeting him, given that he makes even Forte’s dour and elusive countenance lighten at the mere mention of his presence.
While we continued to develop our approach to how to handle this issue of Strixhaven’s new ownership, we settled on two immediate plans. Randril pitched finding the Fey contract within the archives at the school. Additionally, we would need to plane shift, again, to Merica. There we would find the remains of a being called Gletvac, who carried a large amount of money on them.
As I understand it, any resistance movement needs money, so securing funds is a priority. I also need some new clothes, if I am being honest. I had hoped to maybe work at Strixhaven for a while as I did my research, but no such luck, currently. Alas. Incense, herbs, and oils only do so much to mask the smell of stale, centuries-old fabric on a centuries-old corpse.
Regardless, enacting any plans would need to wait, because this very morning we were deep in combat, and now we were planning on dealing with the Fey.
Rest was a remedy for the toll of the day.
Revelations
One thing I was still trying to process from this morning was what about Ms. Deliverance’s actions had upset me so. I sense a kindred spirit in her. I sense a darkness in her – a tug-of-war between. Her Ki ebbs and flows, roiled in conflict, not unlike my own. As she went to take a walk to clear her head in the nearby graveyard, I joined her. I am sure my urgency was unexpected and concerning, but I saw an opportunity.
The conversation was an awkward one. Perhaps it was the potential similarity of her spirit to mine or my exhilaration at being able to have a conversation that led me to share my apprehension about her actions earlier that morning, when she had separated herself from the party. I let her know I felt her actions put her at undue risk. Of course, she is an assassin and capable, but having come from one destroyed family, I did not wish to see another. I worry I came off as more chastizing than concerned, but I am drunk on feeling a part of a community again for the first time in a long time.
Perhaps it is a certain selfishness on my part. It is refreshing not to have my only companionship be the spirits in my head. Having Chen the Mad in your skull is enough to drive you mad yourself. Sometimes I don’t even remember what I say, as though he influences my very speech. Tai the Melancholy, Raging Tovarn, Trembling Gary… I’d much rather keep as many new voices in my life as possible. Maybe it is that simple.
To my dismay, Ms. Deliverance has a rather grim outlook on her worth. Not knowing her full story, only gleaning from bits she told me, she is on some personal, self-destructive crusade. I recognize that readily. Her Ki is stained in blood, as is mine.
I am sane enough to know I am sick, and to recognize sickness in others. Maybe together we might both heal. In that measure, I offered her a gift of a hat, like the kind I’d weave for working the fields at the base of the mountain where we monks worked for our food, so many centuries ago.
A Cool Rock
For a time, after splitting off, I worked silently among the graves, weaving a hat. I had my attention drawn by the deep reverberation of a spiritual bell. It turned out that Astrid and Umbra were wandering the grounds as well. She seemed flustered and defeated, while Umbra was excited about a rock. With that said, I did sense a tremendous energy from the rock – it was indeed a cool rock.
On the note of tremendous energy, I am growing more intrigued by Umbra. There is a familiarity to him and his Ki, something suspiciously similar to me. It makes me wonder if my youthful indiscretions resulted in a lineage in the time since I died. I joke with the young changling, of course. But I do wonder if perhaps we are related? What is Selûne’s plan in that? Curiouser and curiouser, these circumstances.
After a while, we returned to the haunted inn, and in a sign that I will take as karmic, Ms. Deliverance asked me to stay in her room. I had intended to stay within the central chamber, as I have found that my unblinking, constant observation and guardianship of my bunkmates has been seen as mildly off-putting.
I cannot help being a corpse, but I am constantly reminded that my very nature is something deeply uncomfortable to those around me. I cannot help that I always look like I am staring, even if I have no eyes.
But I digress.
Given the heaviness of the day, I joined her in her room and took a seat at the window. I removed my mask and began my spiritual communion with My Lady’s silvery radiance, seeking any guidance or comfort, still reeling from Selûne’s troubling words from earlier that morning. Why was the only word I was able to make out “mask?”
As Ms. Deliverance began to drift off, I assume she saw my mask resting on the bed near the window. The last words I had heard from her were a question about why I wear the mask. I am struck now by the coincidence. I spoke truthfully to her, then; the mask is my penance.
She is asleep now. Her Ki is still chaotic, even at rest. I’ll return to the central room and wait for the others to wake up. The days ahead promise to be challenging.
To be continued in Spooky Dice Bag #162.
