Tales of Amn -One Shot

November 11, 2025

Excerpted from the Official Minutes of the Athkatlan independent investigators Guild (AiiG). Scribed by Walter the Meticulous.

Six months after the rescue of Athkatla from the clutches of the evil plague and their battle with Fargrim in the dark woods, the adventurers party had somewhat reluctantly settled in to life at the helm of government.

10:32 AM The no-name halfling raised by orcs - affectionately called Meep by his friends - with an imposing black, cursed axe strapped to his back, confidently entered the main hall of the AiiG in order to attend the day’s council meeting. He sat at a table and ordered a mead from one of the attendants.

10:33 AM The hulking, 7 foot-tall half-orc paladin, known simply as Imp, lumbered into the main hall. His pilfered and ill-fitting armor creaked as he joined the halfling and held a single finger aloft, signaling for an additional tankard of mead. The steadfast dragon-born paladin, Drakon, followed closely after Imp, took his place at the table and nodded affably to his companions.

10:37 AM The noble-born elf and Athkatlan native Vadania Amakiir entered the hall, followed closely by her loyal pet and familiar, the axe beak, Critter. During their long, mostly sedate stay in Athkatla, Vadania had taken advantage of the wealth of spell-casting books available in the city, and had managed to resurrect their missing and beloved companion. She walked briskly to the table and took her seat, while Critter settled at her feet.

10:42 AM Claera Westwild, the famous elven bard, eventually stumbled into the hall atop a pair of platform boots, his eyes a bit bloodshot and his clothing rumpled and smelling of smoke. He ordered a large mead, and then leaned against a pillar, idly strumming his lute. “I’m working on a companion album to Don’t Go Into The Woods”, he told the group, ”Do Go Into The Woods”. The group sat in congenial silence, listening to the dulcet tones of the bard’s latest composition. They were without the halfling, Shawn Shinglesby, but that was not unsual since they had taken their positions at the head of the newly formed AiiG. Since their initial appointment, Shawn had dedicated much of his personal time to the unsuccessful search for the lost people of Honiesale. For all of his efforts, he had only managed to find his beloved family dog, Cornelia. The return of Horny Corny was a balm to his frustrated spirit, but he missed his parents terribly and he was processing his grief the only way he knew how, by attempting to brew the perfect ale. He had frequently disappeared in recent weeks in pursuit of various ingredients and the group had grown accustomed to his spotty attendance at these meetings.

11:01 AM Vadania was the first to notice the smell of fermentation permeating the air around them. The group shared curious looks as one by one, they picked up on the unpleasant odor of rot and decay. Suddenly a man in late middle-age breezed into the hall. Sporting a long, dark beard, he wore cleric’s robes that, once white, were now yellowed and stained, travel-worn and dingy. The icon of Talona, the goddess of poison and disease, guilded the robes. In his right hand was a staff with a censer at the end; the rotten smell that had preceded him belonging to the incense pouring out of it in thick tendrils of smoke. “Greetings, my children,” he bellowed, “I am a representative of the newly formed Cathedral of the Holy Cycle. I am Callust the Putrid, revered Son of Talona.” It was then that Manisha Graves swept into the hall, two of her former white boars - now the police enforcers in Athkatla - trailed behind her and stood sentry at the door. “Ahhh, Callust, so glad you made it”, she squealed. Then, turning to address the council, she explained “The greater church of Talona insisted they have a representative on the highest council in the land. Henceforth, Callust will be joining you as you attend to your various duties.” “Thank you, Manisha, for that warmhearted introduction. Let me assure you, we are all friends here. You may simply refer to me as Callust the Putrid, revered Son of Talona.” The council members introduced themselves and invited Callust the Putrid to join them at their table as Manisha excused herself to the call of urgent city business and sailed out of the hall with her guards in tow. As he took his seat, the priest called to the bartender and ordered a tall glass of raw milk. The bartender, Derek, stared slack-jawed for a moment, but then acquiesced and sent an attendant to the larder to fetch the requested dairy.

11:16 AM While the council and the priest talked, a tall figure entered the hall and headed toward the bar at the far side of the room. He was about six feet tall, with purplish skin and milky white eyes; his hair formed long dreadlocks, ranging in color from inky black to bright red. A thick tail, with a spade-like tip swung behind him. He wore off-white robes with leather armor, and a thick leather belt that held several pouches and daggers. A short bow was strapped to his back. Arriving at the bar, he ordered a drink, and surveyed the other individuals in the room. His eyes catching on the bard, he leaned in toward Derek, and asked, “Is that Claera Westwild??” “It is, indeed” replied the bartender. The warlock was positively starstruck and gawked openly at the musician. The council was, of course, aware of the stranger’s entrance, and they wasted no time in speculating as to his purpose in the halls of the AiiG. Imp and Meep had never seen a creature of his kind before and rather excitedly bickered about his possible origins. Exasperated, Vadania finally revealed that he was very obviously a tiefling, suggesting that they might benefit from occasionally picking up a book. Screwing up his courage, the tiefling downed his drink and made his way over to the council’s table. Standing beside Claera, he gently cleared his throat. The bard took note of his admirer and casually snatched a small journal and quill from the tiefling’s belted pouch. He opened the journal to a random page and signed his name with a practiced flourish. Stunned, the tiefling thanked him and then introduced himself to the group as Dante Fendrix, a warlock traveling the countryside in search of his people. He had come to Athkatla seeking the help of the heroic members of the defunct Adventurer’s Guild. Before the group could do more than say a brief hello to the visitor, the door to the hall burst open and a long-haired, corn-silk colored, shaggy dog came running up to the table barking wildly at Claera. Obviously distressed, Cornelia ran in circles around the table, barking and whining. The group was at a loss until the no-name halfling stood and made to follow her. She yelped excitedly and ran toward the door. When Meep continued toward her, she bounced in a few small circles and then bounded out the door. Shrugging, the council members rushed after the dog. Callust the Putrid and Dante Fendrix, uncertain but decidedly curious, hurriedly followed suit.

11:43 AM The group followed Cornelia through the heart of Athkatla and out into the barley fields surrounding the city. Once they were in the open fields, Corny picked up speed and easily outpaced the group, but they managed to keep her within sight. Shortly, the barley fields gave way to the foothills at the base of the nearby mountain range, and the guild braced themselves for much more rugged terrain. As Cornelia led them further into the wilds of Amn, the group noted a striking lack of animal noise; no birdsong, no chittering woodland creatures, no rustling throughout the underbrush. It was disconcerting, to say the least. As mild unease settled over the group, Vadania took the opportunity to utilize a newly acquired spell. She muttered “Hang on a sec”, mostly to herself and then shot up high into the air and blasted forward, hurtling through the air with the speed of a hawk. A chorus of “Holy Shit!” “Did you know she could do that?” “Where the hell is she going?”, erupted from the group. Shocked and curious, Dante Fendrix and Callust the Putrid parted from the group and took off in a run after the soaring elf. Vadania flew over the hills, meadows, and trees searching for any sign of healthy wildlife, finding nothing; until she passed over a small clearing that was littered with slaughtered livestock. Dozens and dozens of cows were eviscerated, their flesh torn apart, organs ripped out and scattered across the blood-soaked ground. Vadania slowly circled down to the ground and investigated the area. As she looked around, Callust and Dante eventually caught up to her and were stunned by the massacre before them. Dismayed, Callust the Putrid, revered son of Talona, lifted his hands to the sky and offered a blessing on behalf of the departed cattle, welcoming their now empty vessels onto the next stage in the cycle of death and decay. The ground was heavily trodden, flattened by several creatures, likely bi-pedal and amid the carnage were bits of hair and fur. The carcasses were still fairly fresh and they showed distinct claw and teeth marks. Whatever had decimated this herd had done so recently. The newly formed trio stood in silence, contemplating their next move, when they heard a distant sound. A faint cackling, far off in the distance carried over the hills and whispered past them. The sound caught them off-guard. It was bone-chilling in its irregularity; an unfamiliar laughter tinged with evil. They traced the direction of the sound and quickly identified drag marks leading in that direction. Moving toward the edge of the clearing, they could see that the drag marks lead down to a hollow between hills. Callust suggested that it was their duty to pursue the sound and promised that the almighty Grandmother would protect them. Arriving at the hollow, they paused near the opening to a small cave. The cackling echoed outward from the dark opening in the rock; four or five unholy voices laughing hysterically. Callust lit a small candle and moved closer, Dante and Vadania close behind him. As they reached the mouth of the cave, the glow of the candle illuminated the scene within. Four gnolls - feral, hyena-headed humanoids - were hunched over the corpse of a large cow, tearing at his flesh and gnawing at his limbs. A fifth gnoll - this one wearing a large, blood-red amulet around its neck - fed on the body of a farmer nearby. At the sight before them, the trio of adventurers came to a sudden stop. As Callust brought his foot down, his boot snapped a small twig in half, the sound barely audible in the din of the heathen feast. But the solitary gnoll snacking on the farmer heard it and jerked its head up and around. Its eyes met with the priest’s and it let out a bloodcurdling scream as it grabbed its spear from the ground beside it and charged full speed at the intruders. Despite an attempt by Vadania to cast a harnessing spell on the remaining four gnolls, they broke through and stormed the trio. Weaponized magic spells, short swords, spears, claws, and teeth clashed in a free-for-all at the mouth of the cave. Both sides were wounded and bloodied, as blows were exchanged and advantages won and lost. Finally, Callust shot a guiding bolt of putrescence at the leader of the gnolls and hit it squarely in the chest. Its entire body glowed, its eyes turning a sickly green as it collapsed to the ground in a heap. “Foul Creature! Return to Grandmother’s garden!” the priest screamed. After a particularly vicious bite from an attacking gnoll, Vadania managed to draw her short sword and slam it upward into the gnoll’s stomach, twisting the blade and watching the creature’s eyes roll back as it fell to the ground.

12:31 PM Still on the trail of Shawn’s beloved Cornelia, the remainder of the AiiG had been traipsing through the foothills, when Imp heard the distant sound of screaming. When the screams multiplied and the faraway clatter of battle made its way across the landscape, the group sprang to action. Using magic, Claera was able to lead them directly to the hollow.

12:38 PM As the trio was locked in battle with the three remaining gnolls, the Bard and company crested the hill above the cave. Claera, Imp, Drakon, and the no-name halfling looked down, saw the situation, and without words, acted as one. They charged down the hill at full speed, weapons drawn. While on the run, Imp cast warding bond on Meep and shoved him forward into the fray. The halfling hurtled into the cave, his axe drawn, and catching the gnolls by surprise, cut one of them down at the knees, leaving it to bleed out on the floor. Imp stormed in behind him and swing his sickles, ripping the head off another of the humanoid monsters. The final gnoll was helplessly outnumbered as Drakon, Claera, and Imp worked together to tear him to shreds. Grateful for the timely intervention, the battle-worn trio thanked the rest of their party. Imp wasted no time in confronting Vadania. “Since when the hell could you fly??” he bellowed, accusing the elf of learning that particular magic at the instruction of Bane. Vadania denied the charge vehemently and the two quickly descended into childish bickering. Meanwhile, Callust the Putrid immediately began to pray over the corpses of their adversaries, while Dante examined the amulet around the neck of the leader. The necklace contained no magic, but ensconced inside the ruby red stone, was a small and unusual mushroom, unrecognized by any member of the group.

12:45 PM Finding nothing of value or interest in the cave, the group turned to leave the hollow. Cornelia was waiting patiently atop the nearby hill. As soon as the group saw her, she barked shortly and turned to lead them on. The land got rockier and the hike more strenuous as Shawn’s dog led them deeper into the wilds of Amn and further toward the mountain range. Eventually they entered into a shady forest. The air was moist, and smelled of damp soil and decaying wood. Moss and lichen covered much of the trees, rocks and boulders, and the rugged, detritus-littered ground was host to a multitude of mushrooms, of all varieties. However none of the fungi they passed resembled the mysterious example contained within the ruby amulet.

6:17 PM The sun was dipping lower and lower in the sky as Corny hurried through the woods, up and down over the hills, snuffling at the ground like a pig searching for truffles, but never stopping. All of a sudden a massive boulder, the size of a large bed, came sailing over their heads, crashing through branches and trees, and landed fifty feet behind them. The group dropped to the ground and looked upwards toward the top of the hill. There was no hint of what had propelled the boulder and no apparent sign of more to come. Unfazed, Corny continued up the hill, and the group cautiously followed. Once at the crest of the hill, they found themselves in a clearing, and one that appeared to have been used recently as a campsite. The ashy remains of a fire lay at its center, and a small pile of glass bottles were discarded nearby. Corny sniffed fervently at the bottles, whimpering and pawing at the glass. Closer inspection revealed them to be Shinglesby Ale bottles, and the group, weary and dispirited after an endless day of hiking, felt some small elation at the realization that their canine trailblazer may have accurately picked up the scent of their missing friend. With their feet throbbing, their bellies rumbling, and the sun quickly dropping below the horizon, the group had little choice but to set up camp for the night. Exhausted, they slept deeply and through the night.

5:53 AM The sun slowly crept over the hills the following morning, and gently coaxed each member of the group from slumber. Claera, however, was roughly awakened by a rather amorous Cornelia. He swatted at her and shoved the dog away as he rolled over and sought to reenter his dreams. But it was not to be. Daylight had broken and it was time to resume the hunt for Corny’s master. Cornelia led the group up and over another large hill. As they approached the bottom, the forest thinned to reveal a large, mostly open meadow at the foot of three large hills. The group stopped short as they took in the land before them. The valley was in ruins. Tree trunks lay split and splintered, stones and large rocks were scattered about, four large stumps sat stacked into a pointless tower. Broken remnants of man-made objects; barrels, wagon wheels, and unidentifiable shards of wood and metal, were scattered across the ground. And piles of decimated large animal carcasses - cows, bears, horses, deer - in various stages of decay, littered the area. The only thing seemingly in-tact, amid the chaos, was a rudimentary cage. The cage was an ugly tangle of gnarled branches and caked-on mud knotted together. It was approximately 7 ft x 7 ft at its base and the mess of branches twisted upward in a cone-like shape to a height of about 10 ft, leaving a 4 ft x 4 ft chimney-like opening at the top. From a distance, the group could not see whether anything or anyone was held in the cage. The valley was deserted, and eerily silent. The only evidence of what creature might have wrought all of this destruction were enormous bi-pedal, humanoid footprints evident here and there in bits of soft ground. With no sign of the owner of those very large feet, the group moved quietly from the safety of the forest and crept toward the primitive cage. Corny, however, would not budge from the edge of the woods, and sat as still as a statue, staring straight ahead. As soon as they were within striking distance, the members of the council visibly flinched as they recognized the prone and still body of their friend, Shawn Shinglesby, lying amongst several lifeless human figures. Reaching through the branches of the cage, Claera cast a “speak with the dead” spell, on what looked to be a corpse on the fresher side of things. Whether or not this corpse had been verbose in life, in death he was positively laconic. Claera could get little more from him than that the creature responsible for all of this was very big and that the corpse had not actually witnessed the death of their halfling friend. Suddenly, they heard a great, low, rumble. And the smallest of vibrations started beneath their feet. Looking beyond the cage to the far hill, they saw a small tuft of dirty, chestnut colored hair bobbing in and out of sight through the thinning canopy. The rumbling deepened, and the vibrations intensified, as a an absolutely colossal hill giant emerged from the tree line. He was close to 20 ft tall, absolutely filthy, and wore an almost-too-small moose pelt tied around his waist. He carried a stout tree trunk in his hand, one end splintered where the canopy had been snapped off, and the other still connected to the mangled root ball. The giant saw the trespassers almost immediately and let out a deafening howl. Dante Fendrix reacted first, shooting a scorching ray at the giant, which hit, and only enraged him more. His pace quickened toward the group, but when Imp invoked a command spell and ordered him to ‘flee’, he turned and headed off in the opposite direction. The group all breathed a sigh of relief, but that relief was short lived. The vibrations doubled as a second hill giant, this one a lady - that term applied loosely, of course - came stomping out from the forest across the meadow. She wore similarly ill-fitting animal pelts, and had her fiery orange hair pulled into a messy pile on top of her head. She was shorter than her counterpart, only about 16 ft tall, but no less filthy and no less mean. She carried two smaller tree trunks like batons. Upon seeing the goings-on ahead of her, she let out an ear-splitting shriek and yelled something indecipherable at the first giant. He quickly turned around and, spell broken, headed back for the group. Their massive strides had the hill giants on top of the council in almost no time at all. Under imminent attack, they jumped into harried action. Vadania once again utilized her new found gift of flight and blasted off the ground, heading straight for the top of the cage. She dropped herself down inside and scooped Shawn’s limp body into her arms. Taking off again, she flew up and out of the cage and straight to Corny at the top of the nearby hill, laying the halfling at the paws of his beloved pet. The rest of the group focused on the giants. The no-name halfling, sometimes called Meep, hurled himself at the larger of the two giants with his axe held high over his head. Callust the Putrid, revered son of Talona, threw bolts of necrotic damage at the female giant. Claera summoned a storm and watched as dark clouds swirled overhead, turning the crystalline blue sky a nefarious black and grey. Lightning bolts shot out and hit the two giants dead on, electricity coursing through their bodies and rendering them momentarily incapacitated. Dante Fendrix flung scorching rays at the behemoth, while Drakon, under the influence of divine smite, wielded his glaive with precision and sliced the midsection of the shorter giant to ribbons. While larger and slower than the tiny intruders at their feet, the giants still possessed raw power and brute strength. The larger giant swung his tree trunk at Drakon and knocked him clean off his feet, sending the dragon-born hurtling backwards into the dirt. The female giant played whack-a-mole with the half-orc paladin and knocked Imp solidly into the ground, not once but twice, causing him to get back up rather slowly and struggle to shake off the effects of a truly overpowering hit. His wits back about him, and with the female giant distracted by her other attackers, a vengeful Imp leapt onto her prodigious backside, climbing her like a tree and straddling one of her shoulders. Pulling his sickles from their sheathes, he hacked and sawed at her neck until the tendons gave way and the angry shrieks ceased. Her head now barely attached, and flapping loosely against her own back, the half-orc leapt from her shoulders and landed nearby as the slack body of the giant crumpled to the ground with a thundering boom. A few feet away, his cursed axe now glowing bright red, a berserk Meep whirled around the larger giant, leaping and rolling out of his grasp while he sliced and battered at the gargantuan legs in front of him. When the colossus fell to his knees, Meep continued his enraged attack and showed no mercy until the giant finally collapsed. No longer moving, blood oozed from his wounds and soaked the ground around his enormous form. Still raging, and blind to whether they were friend or foe, Meep turned to attack Drakon, but fortunately, Callust stepped forward and used magic to calm the no-name halfling before any damage was done.

6:41 AM

Vadania was still trying to awaken Shawn when the rest of the group made their way back up the hill to her side. Corny lay beside her owner, solemnly licking his limp fingers. “He’s not dead or injured, but I can’t awaken him” Vadania told them. Callust the Putrid, revered son of Talona, stepped forward and tried a spell of ‘lesser restoration’, but it did no good. And Claera tried a spell of his own, but to no avail. Shawn appeared to be physically well, but otherwise completely non-responsive. Dante looked him over and told the group, “There is magic at work here. I believe he is magically exhausted, recovering from some powerful magical effect.” Meep noticed a small leather satchel pinned to Shawn’s waist, and just as the halfling was unable to leave any door unopened, he found himself compelled to flick open the pouch. Inside were 9 small mushrooms - a perfect match to the strange amulet! He revealed this to the group and before any of the more circumspect in the group could voice their opinions, both Meep and Callust the Putrid had each popped a mushroom into their mouths and swallowed. The group could only watch as the no-name halfling and the priest grew before their very eyes. They were easily five times their original size, and towered over their companions. Heavy magic was contained in this unusual fungus, and they all wondered if eating one of them was precisely what had brought Shawn to his current state. Only time would tell…