Tales of Amn -One Shot

January 6, 2026

As told by Imp, Half-Orc Paladin, and recorded by the scribe, Aelric

It had been some months since I last had the pleasure of the young Imp’s company. The last time we spoke, I had chronicled his exciting adventures from deep within the Goblin caves that he had once ruled with a clever and discerning fist. It was a shock, to say the least, to find him once more amongst the guild. It was even more surprising to learn that the young adventurer had found himself at the helm of the AIIG— a position that he clearly did not covet or enjoy the way he had ruled amongst the wily goblin clans.

Imp began the story of this most recent adventure at the tail end of another. Mushrooms of a magical variety, described to induce a rapid and immense growth of an individual to gargantuan sizes, brought immense entertainment as two of the party’s members— both previously unknown to my writings: The Halfling and Callus the Putrid—injected the fungi and found their heights to increase dramatically.

Their enjoyment was relatively short-lived, as the mushroom’s effects only lasted about an hour before the pair once again found themselves to their original statures. The magical effect also appeared to cause an incredible level of exhaustion, as the two quickly found themselves collapsing into a deep, near-unbreakable slumber. This was a state of being that they joined Shawn in, as the arcane halfling was found in a Giant’s cage already deep within the same magical sleep .

With three unconscious companions and stomachs rumbling with hunger after an intense day of battling, the group decided to make camp and rest for the night. Imp briefly took a moment to describe that they had journeyed across fields aplenty following Shawn’s beloved canine Corney in search of the arcane halfling that they thought to be missing. They had come across strange dog-like creatures he had never yet experienced before and therefore knew not what to call them. He did offer plenty of words, many being quite colorful in nature, to describe their appearance, which leaves my best understanding to be that they had found themselves afoul of a gang of Gnolls. That had not been the only excitement for the adventure that he did not feel like describing in depth for me today, as they had ended the adventure by dispatching two giants to retrieve their sleeping arcane companion.

Gathered around the warm campfire, the group enjoyed their squirrel-meat calzones with their new companions: Dante the trifling and Callus, the aforementioned priest. With the chosen protein for their meal, it cannot be of much surprise that Dragon’s stomach did not find itself agreeing with the meal, leaving him unfortunately ill.

As the night continued on, a message arrived for Vedania— despite the elf’s attempts to stay removed from her wealthy, affluent line. The letter detailed that the patriarch of her ancient family had fallen ill, which was a difficult feat for such a long-lived and resistant species, and as such all members of the Amakiir line were being summoned to the great capital city. With respect for her family despite their differences and concern that her Dragon-born friend may need medical intervention for his ailment, Vadania set off at once into the night in the direction of the Capitol.

The following morning found all remaining companions were awake and well-rested. Callus began his putrid prayers to his divinity as Dante and Corney began to bond over the snacks that the trifling was willing to offer from his supply pouch.

Imp took this time to draw me into a side conversation, spurred by The Halfling's fixation with the idea of feeding the canine some of the magical size-inflating mushrooms. He believed that by feeding the dog the mushrooms—which was a large risk given how canines react to many species of fungi— would cause the pet to grow to a massive size, allowing them all to journey upon its back and make their way back to the capital in a shorter period of time.

While the group was weighing the benefits and possible consequences of this option, the soft sound of meows rose from nearby. The precious noise was described as not belonging to Daisy, something Imp was quite adamant to note. Daisy is, apparently, a magically inclined cat that served a witch he had met on a previous adventure .

The curious group followed the feline calls behind a thick bush, immediately finding themselves tumbling through a magical portal that threw them about, unsettling many of their stomachs from the rough tossing through magical air. Their two newest companions were initially left behind, opting to instead listen to caution and stay within the confines of their small camp. However, upon firing themselves alone and both possessing the ability to understand the possible magic that caused the mysterious portal, the trifling and priest chose to step into the unknown and found themselves tumbling through after them.

Nauseated from the rough form of transportation, the party rises to their feet on a small, lushly forested island. All manner of plantlife sprouted around them, coating all available surfaces with a dense green blanket dotted with flowers. Waves break violently against the shoreline, yet no noises reach the party’s ears— not even that of all manner of birds and bugs that must have called an island as richly fertile as this, home. It was as if the island was either protected by great magic or created from it.

Looking around they saw a large stone tower rising above the tree tops at the center of the island. At its base sat a heavy wooden door that lacked any knob or device for opening. No windows existed at the ground level that would allow them to further investigate what may be hidden inside, without finding a way to break inside.

Shawn, now much more attuned with his abjurative powers than when I had last been privy to his talents, was able to sense the magic cast upon the door to protect the tower from any strangers that may move with poor intentions. Trusting in himself and the charm which had gotten him both into and out of trouble, Shawn introduces himself to the door. This yields no results, much like The Halfling’s introduction of the axe to the door yields none either.

Despite Callus’ well-spoken and described disdain for vulgar language Imp instructed the door to open the fuck up. The door apparently appreciated this direct approached as it did open itself to the party, instructing them to “chill” as it did so. At this point, Imp was adamant that he had properly thanked the door for allowing them entry and that it had appreciated his gratitude.

With the opening of the door, the noises that were natural and expected of an island oasis came crashing into the ears of the party. Thundering waves and a cacophony of insect ringings and bird calls. Inside, the tower is dim from the lack of ground-level windows and cast in the warm, homey light of a flickering hearth. Cozy, overstuffed armchairs are located around the circular room and books in all manner of languages and subjects are scattered about— not solely confined to the bookshelves. Upon investigating, a small cigar box is found to be amongst the collection of books, inside which sits a mysterious blue gem and a potion that can be felt shifting within a vial but cannot be seen. It is discovered to be a potion of invisibility after Cleara opts to ingest the potion.

It is at this point that Shawn realizes that while he had made a full introduction to the door, which had no promise to be sentient, he had not yet become fully acquainted with the members of the group that had joined the party in search of him the previous day. He quickly jumped to rectify that situation while the other halfling of the party focused on the door at the other end of the room, which promised either adventure or drink. Knowing of this group and seeing how they were conducting themselves around me as Imp recalled me with this story, they likely were hoping for drink.

Imp detailed his amusement at watching Shawn and Dante become fast friends, bonding over the shared experience of being orphaned and wanting to seek their roots. He found it funny due to the fact that orphans made up a significant portion of their party and therefore seemed to be a common experience amongst adventurers within Alm.

The Halfling was intent on the mysteries of the door at the other end of the door, trusting the rest to their own investigations as he tries to pull it open, only to find it locked. Cleara, invisible to the group and uncertain how exactly the potion of invisibility works, attempted to walk through the solid wood. This results in a loud thud and, no doubt, a large bruise as the potion does not grant the drinker the ability to permeate solid objects, only to become invisible. Due to said invisibility, Cleara is saved initially from the embarrassment, as no-one knew what the source of the noise had been.

The bard investigates the door further, noticing that a red gem sits beside two empty slots. One of these slots he realizes to be a perfect match for the blue gemstone that he had found alongside the potion.

As Callus began to make himself comfortable in front of the hearth, surrounded by a sea of new knowledge for him to acquire, the soft sound of meowing returned. Callus clocks his tongue and a delicate orange paw sticks out from between the cushions in a playful greeting. Understanding how to win over the affections of a cat, the putrid priest tosses about a decorative tassel for the little creature to chase after.

A magnificent cat with orange fur crawls out from under the chair, obviously won over by the charm that Imp did not realize the priest could possess— especially when the charmed creature has such a sensitive sense of smell.

The feline proudly wears a collar engraved with the name Timothy and paired with a shining yellow gem of a familiar shape.

“Friends” Imp mocks the voice, as if in an attempt to make it clear that he had not yet felt a Kinship with this newer party member yet. “I believe I have found the last piece to the puzzle,” With a polite request to the cat, Callus is granted permission to remove the gem from the collar so that they may play it alongside its siblings in the door and move forward to find what awaits them in the mysterious tower.

It is with great excitement that the party finds itself looking into a pantry filled with food and whiskey alike. Most run to fill their hands and pockets with as much as they can carry so that they may fill their bellies before ascending the steep staircase that stands at the end of the dark stone hallway.

With Timothy comfortably held in Callus’ arms, the group begins their journey onwards and upwards with Shawn in the lead, closely followed by Imp for support. It is with near immediacy that Shawn stumbled over a tripwire, releasing a shower of sharpened pencils down upon him. It is with great luck that the “weapons” were only able to enact minor damage upon the halfling so soon in their journey forward. This trap does not detour the determined little fellow, as he continues to lead the march to find what awaits them further into the tower.

The next doorway they find themselves standing before opens without need for any key nor puzzle. It opens to reveal a workspace, cluttered with worktables overrun with notebooks and papers on all manner of strange and unusual research as well as tools to conduct said experiments. Most notably strange and unusual were the two corpses that were the soul occupants of the workspace. One rests on a workbench, horizontal as corpses are meant to be and missing one arm. The other stands, like corpses ought not to, and similarly appears to be missing an arm.

The corpse that stands guard is a grotesque creature, put together of various and confused parts that appear to be collected from different bodies of an unknown source. Where as the sleeping corpse appears to have lost his arm, this cobbled-together creature looks as though he was never intended to have one to begin with. Seeing this, as well as locating a disembodied arm, Shawn begins to search amongst the various tools for a needle and thread so that he may attempt to make this creature whole again.

Meanwhile, now much more attuned with his magical abilities from the last time I heard tell of their adventures, Cleara casts speak with dead, prompting the sleeping corpse on the slab to rise, but momentarily. This piece of magic allows the corpse to be asked five questions.

Firt they ask the corpse how it came to find itself here, to which the dead can only describe his final memories. He last remembered his life as he tended to his large field, working as he always did until he was struck with a pain in his arm and a tightness in his chest— the likely cause of his unfortunate demise, though they cannot be certain.

In an attempt to find out more about the island they now found themselves on they asked the corpse how he came to the tower. This had apparently been new information to him, especially as an individual who had spent his life in one small town— Jethroville, another question told them. (Another, previous question had asked what part of the map the man had been from and was only met with silence, as he did not know.)

Upon answering the fourth of the five questions allowed by the constraints of the spell, the raised corpse takes notice of the dismembered arm in Shawn’s grasp and questions its origins. Despite his diminutive size, especially in comparison to the size of a grown human’s arm, he attempts to hide it behind his back and deny any knowledge of such a thing. It is unclear wether or not his attempt at hiding it was successful or not, or if the corpse— being dead on an island unknown to him— simply didn’t care.

With the fifth question offered, inquiring if the dead man had anything of value in his pockets, the corpse gave its final answer before descending once again to the grips of an endless slumber: that he understood himself to be nude and therefore carrying nothing.

With the corpse unable to oversee the desecration of his corpse any further, Shawn locates a needle and thread to begin his work on gifting the standing corpse a second arm. He quickly runs into the issue that the arm that this corpse was missing was different from the arm that he had “found”. The Halfling was quick to “remedy” this situation in the only way that made sense to him: by removing the “correct” arm from the sleeping corpse.

Upon carefully sewing the arm to the hodgepodge of a being so that it may become whole, the crew steps back with rapt anticipation…only for nothing to happen. They are disappointed, but another awaits them promising further strangeness and exploration. As they pass Calus grants the standing corpse reanimation, so that he may join them as a flesh gollum of sorts for the next day.

Shawn continues to lead the group, closely followed by their newly reanimated creature. The third floor offers them a dark hallway, a torch illuminating a plague and row of skeletal guards lining their way forward. The plague offers them a riddle.

I am present in the deepest shadows but absent in the light. I come with the night but hide I plain sight.

The group eagerly solves the puzzle, understanding that the key to their way forward is darkness. With that knowledge, they put out the torch’s flames, casting themselves into complete and blinding darkness . Dante and Callus are the first to make their way down the uneven cobblestone passage and locate yet another unlocked door awaiting them at the other end.

In his apparent excitement for their success at making it across, Cleara relights the torch, once more casting the hall in light despite only two members of the party making it past the skeletal guards. With the reintroduction of light, the skeletal sentries burst into action, intent on battling with the party.

Quick and eager to attack The Halfling goes into a rage and is immediately able to dispose of two of the six awakened skeletons. The battle commences in full force with axes and sickles flying and magic melting its way through magical bones. Despite many of them being new to each other’s company, it is clear from these accounts that they are able to work fluidly together to face any challenge or foe that is presented to them. Working in quick succession, they are able to dispatch the small skeletal force and move on through the door awaiting them at the end of the hall to ascend to the fourth floor of the tower.

This floor is unlike any previously presented to them. The floor is covered in lush, green grass that looks soft to the touch. Its walls and ceiling is coated with a layer of thick, weaving ivy and colorful flowers. Through the center of the room, hedges weave into a maze-like pattern. It is quiet and peaceful, with fireflies floating about their lanterns flashing in a soft show of mesmerizing light.

Callus investigates the plant-life, utilizing his knowledge to examine what species of flora are presented to them in this strange room. He is able to recognize that while all plants present are native to the island, a plant blight  does appear to infect them.

Proceeding with immense care, Dante carefully surveys the path ahead of them, catching a glimpse of another tripwire waiting for clumsy feet. This one does not appear to have a bucket of sharpened pencils waiting to fall on someone’s head. With a level of caution not yet practiced within their journey up the tower, the party all tuck themselves behind the door to wait and watch as Dante trips the wire with a clever use of Mage Hand.

The dark vine comes to life, immediately locating its target hidden behind the wooden door. Its gnarled green tendrils smash and thrash against the strong wood, threatening the party with the promise of pain and suffering if the vines are able to get any of them in its clutches.

The Halfling is the first to launch his attack, immediately able to inflict enough damage for the cursed plant to release a warbling scream from somewhere within its possessed form and shrink away into the safety of the hedges. The Halfling is quick to follow in his pursuit, only to find himself caught in its constricting, suffocating grasp. Stuck here, he is unable to move or fight.

The group launches a full assault onto the possessed flora, slashing and hacking at the vines in the hope that if they are able to do enough damage, it will please their captured companion and slink away back from whence it came.

Appealing to his priestly nature, Callus calls upon divine radiance and is able to land a final, fatal blow upon the creature. Although it withers away, all is not yet safe. The Halfling remains consumed by the ferocious berserker rage that grants him enormous strength and fortitude in the heat of battle.

Once again, Callus is able to charm The Halfling into subordination, calming the fury that brews within him— or perhaps within his mighty axe.

With the plant dispatched and their companion calmed, they are able to move forward once more to tackle the rest of the leafy maze. The Halfling carefully leads the way, monitoring for any signs of traps or tripwires. He spots one and is able to warn the party before anyone accidentally sets forth another wave of cursed plantlife.

The topmost room of the tower is small, centered around a large stone slab and looming metal pillars. An unanimated corpse rests on the slab, much like the one they had come across on the second floor. This one appears to be pieced together with a better sense of care and craftsmanship (if such a thing can be said of such sacrilegious practices).

Working around the corpse is an elderly man with a long white beard that he tosses over his shoulder as if to keep it from interfering with his work. Upon noticing the party’s presence, he tosses a sheet over the corpse, which is still clearly a corpse even when blanketed.

“We have your other one,” It’s a simple, true statement. Anyone who had managed to come to this level of the tower had already witnessed the horror that is innate with the dark art of necromancy.

The elderly necromancer called to his corpse, Sandy, shocked to see it animated and completed. While the corpse itself offers no recognition, the party cannot help but offer that they also have “Thomas”. The necromancer was suitably confused, likely as the cat that had followed the party with confidence and ease, was named Timothy. Something they did correct in their discussions with the old man.

It is at this point that Imp merely states that Callus goes on a religious tangent of sorts, as priests often do, especially when faced with such dark and often illegal practices. He notes that the elderly man did not appear to have time nor care for the pious teachings of the putrid priest. However, once again, as he had throughout this short journey, Callus’ charm won over the elderly man whose demeanor quickly changed to welcoming the group. He offers them food and drink, which the party had long helped themselves to when they first entered the tower. But whiskey was shared amongst the group, the necromancer finding joy in their shared tastes.

While the old man is distracted with his newfound need to be a gracious host, the adventurers take their opportunity to snoop around his workspace. One corner was home to stacks of wooden crates filled with a variable collection of goods from clothing to gold, and more notably a necklace with a deep blue gem and an animal dead scroll. Another more dubious corner is described in great detail with a large amount of amusement and mirth from the young orc. I will not be so crass as to memorialize his many and ample descriptions and will simply leave it in the most basic of his words as “a pile of dicks”.

It is a testament to the morals of the group that they found themselves content with the necromancer’s explanation behind his action and mention of potentially more corpses beneath the tower, as simply his reasons are his own. Likely, the knowledge that the corpses do not find themselves to be in a state of death by the hand of the necromancer, only in a state of defilement, they are satisfied that the old man is strange, albeit (mostly) harmless.

Arctorous, as the necromancer introduces himself a, requests their assistance with moving some of the crates since he finds himself in the company of so many strong adventurers. Cleara, invisible still, assists and they watch with amusement as the crates disappear and reappear as he takes hold of them.  The old man is discontented with the knowledge that his potion of invisibility had been ingested and was no longer his to save for whatever strange and likely nefarious plans he had intended it for. Despite his feelings, he was compelled to be inviting and thus offered no ill will towards the bard.

The crates are moved to reveal a swirling portal, much like the one that the party had found themselves tumbling through at the start of this unusual adventure through the tower. Arctorous explains that the portal does have some level of control as to where its travelers find themselves, although it is limited to select locations, most of which are morgues, forests or fields. Likely as that is where the old necromancer is sourcing his supply of corpses.

In a moment of excitement and recognition that the necromancer may appreciate the dismembered head that they carried with them . Shawn revealed the head of Ibrum Greyblade from it’s sack and presented it to Arctorous who was alight with glee.

“Ibrum! My god, you’ve lost weight!”

With the touching reunion between long-lost friends, the party decides that it is time to take their leave through the swirling portal once again. They allow Ibrum to stay behind with the old necromancer, a decision that they may prove to have been inadvisable as if the man regains a body who can say what trouble he with wrought.