The PCs become mercenaries, literally killing things for Coin.


Our group

Brus Reckoner
Male half-orc Inquisitor of Yog-Sothoth and protector of candy.
John “Angel Eyes” Wilmarth
Male Aasimar Cleric of the mad idiot god Azathoth.
Fág an Bealach (Faugh)
Male svirfneblin Brawler of archetype Mutagenic Mauler.
Bill the Bard
A lost male human bard with his donkey Bottom.
Male hobgoblin rogue.

The story thus far

We began the session with a “previously on Limen’s house”. In the previous weeks they have been:

  1. Chased by a city-smashing dragon
  2. Attacked by zombie miners
  3. Resting in a room full of cats
  4. Helping a lighthouse-keeper from the unwanted advances of a Sea Hag
  5. Murdering the orcs and goblins who had murdered the festive occupants of a castle
  6. Chased a gnome through dungeons
  7. Found (and smashed) disgusting aquariums designed to feed people to gelatinous creatures
  8. Found the grim remains of an adventuring party
  9. Sunk a pirate and a merchant ship
  10. Investigated an underground pyramid containing the blood of a dead God
  11. Talked to exploring Contemplatives
  12. Survived an insane pocket plane devoted to Halloween

All the while they had three stated objectives (thrust into their hands by a mysterious Paladin in the first session):

  1. Keep moving
  2. Find Coin
  3. Avoid the others

With all their portal-hopping they had definitely kept moving. And now… they had found Coin.


They had found a bizarre set of interconnected corridors. They joined at odd angles, but at certain times they could see themselves… from another angle. After some trudging they found a small storage area sandwiched between two corridors. There were boxes and a large painting covered with a sheet. It coughed. “Hello?”

When they removed the sheet they saw the majestic painting of a dashing young man in a castle. The paint moved. He moved.

The PCs introduced themselves and gave a brief recap on what they had gone through to find Coin. Some of the references were completely lost on Coin. Some he almost knew what they were going to say before they said it. When they asked him to explain the situation, he was both full of information and a little slippery.

The PCs were in Limen’s House, so to speak. It was a vast array of places across time and space and planes connected by the mysterious doors. It was owned by the demigod Ataxia or Bhedlam or Limen or… One of those. There was great and mysterious magic behind it all. And, Coin explained, it needed to be destroyed.

The cleric spoke up, “Whoa, so you’re saying there’s a network of the most intricate magic known to man… And you want us to destroy it?”

Coin said, “Yes.”

The cleric paused. “I’m in!”

Coin had explained that he was at a nexus of this network of portals. He had lived for a very, very long time and was sick of his situation. In destroying Limen’s House, he might be removed from his imprisonment in the painting. Or he might die. He was somewhat okay with either outcome.

Coin also revealed that he had helped several other groups explore Limen’s House. They… weren’t so successful.

Once Coin had gotten an agreement from the PCs that they will help him out, he offered his services as a merchant. He had access to other places and people, so could be a fence of sorts. But before that, he had some parcels for people. He could push the parcel through the “wall” of the painting, but the painting felt like solid paint to those willing to touch it. Objects could go through, but not people.

The Bard got his parcel first. A large, flat, square box with a card saying, “From your faithful B”. He opened the box to find a gift-wrapped light shield. On the face was the masks of comedy and tragedy. It was an Oratory Shield and well-shaped to amplify and carry his voice. It would boost the DC of his Bardic performances, or improve any Perform check.

Drama masks

The cleric got his next. It was a bundle of wrapping paper and tape, as if a young child had tried to wrap a present but couldn’t be bothered halfway through. Inside was a single shoulder pad (not magic), a bottle of wine and a pair of boots. The boots, when the heels were clicked, would light up behind the cleric. The glow left behind would heal any allies (basically Path of Glory in boot form). The cleric examined the wine bottle and something clunked inside. Another chess piece? This was from “Z”. Whoever that was.

The rogue got his last. This was from a (Coin sighed) “perfect admirer”. It was “something that he’d lost”. It was a large jar, about a foot or two high, and a foot in diameter. Inside was a very twitchy goblin with string poking out of his head. It was the goblin from the castle! The one that PickLick had subjugated but it ran away! After a little while the penny dropped. This wasn’t just the goblin. The string wasn’t a piece of string, but a fuse! It was a goblin bomb!

There were no parcels for Brus or Faugh.

Then there was a good 45 minutes of haggling. There were a few items Coin was willing to trade for (+1 Longspear, +1 Amorphous Leather Armour, Bead of Force, Armbands of the Brawler, Catching Cloak, Pearl of Power (level 2)). The rates were pretty good. The PCs dumped a large number of wands they had accumulated, as well as some other gear.

The Orrery

Once all the shopping had been done, they got down to business. To destroy Limen’s House, they needed a device that would exploit the network and take it all down. Unfortunately, no such device exists, to Coin’s knowledge. So they had to make it.

The first thing they needed was an assembly to house the device in. It had to be of a certain mechanical perfectness. Coin believed there was a array of astronomical gear in an observatory that they could take. They were asked to obtain an armillary sphere, an orrery and an astrolabe. These were made and owned by the famed navigator and astronomer Cadmus Logo.

The observatory was “very far north”, so they needed supplies. Coin directed them to a box of gear. Inside were some Bottled Yeti Furs, +1 Fur Hide armours (hide armour with protection from cold environments), iron rope, a campfire bead and some alchemist fire. It was going to be cold.

Coin gave them directions to a door that lead to near the observatory. How near? Coin was unsure, but it was pretty close. The PCs had limited cold-weather gear, so they had to be swift.

Land of ice

Land of ice

The PCs opened the door and a chill air flowed through. After verifying that their key would get them back to Coin, they stepped through.

They were on a beached Viking ship frozen into the side of an iceberg. Icebergs nearby collided with a crunchy sound. Luckily this iceberg was grounded near the shore. They could see a wide plain of snow split with a broken ridge of mountains beyond. They could jump from the iceberg onto a nearby snow drift. But they feared falling into the arctic ocean, so they tried themselves together with rope.

The PCs made a line around the iceberg and the rogue went first. He jumped majestically and mid-air he paused…

Roll me a Perception check,” I said.

Uh oh…”

The rogue managed to notice along the crest of the snow drift was a snaking line of snow. Something not made by the wind! As he landed in the snow, it erupted into a huge snake-like ice ooze. It attacked him immediately, slamming into him and popping a few bones with a tight constriction.

What then ensued was an awkward rescue attempt. Faugh (who was tied to PickLick) jumped over the 5 foot gap and untied himself. The other leaped over, occupying the very little space in between the Freezing Flow and a short plunge into the icy ocean. They wailed on it for a little while (and Faugh even tried grappling it!) before it died. It had been waiting on that snow drift for three years. Finally prey arrived and chopped it to pieces.

As they got their bearings, the snow storm began to worsen. They had spied a small cave in the closest mountain range, but thought they spied the top of an observatory at the farthest one. After a short argument, they took shelter in the cave. PickLick decided to have a sleep while the others made ice sculptures and campfires.


As they waited nervously for the snow storm to pass, they began to notice dark shapes in the maelstrom. A few dark shapes. Then more. Coming towards them!

The snow abated a little and they could see a large tribe of (they guessed) snow bugbears.

There were way more than they thought they could take on. The Wikkawaks did nothing but grunt. Then they parted.

A beautiful dark-skinned, human-looking woman strode through the sleet and snow. She wore thick furs and walked with purpose. She introduced herself as Caelanthra.

You’re in my domain. Who are you?” she asked.

The Bard did his Bard-y best and tried to woo the woman, apologising for their intrusion and almost mentioning they were here from a network of portals to raid an observatory (before the cleric elbowed him in the ribs).

Caelanthra explained that she owned the local area with her “men”. She seemed disappointed by her tribe, stout warriors that they were. She yearned for something a little bit more “scholarly”.


In fact… you and your team would do nicely. I have a proposition for you.”

Caelanthra had surmised that they wanted to get to the observatory ruins. She too wanted the observatory, but as a new base of operations. She was sick of living out of hide tents, and needed something more upmarket. The observatory was it.

Unfortunately, it had already been taken. An archaeologist or something had moved through the area recently. The wikkawaks refused to talk about him, but he was apparently not a nice fellow. They called him “The Blight”. He had been through some ruins to the south and destroyed them. Picked them clean of any historical value and desecrated the rest. The tribesmen dared not say his name, “In case of the night.”

The Blight or whoever he was, had somehow moved to the observatory with a company of demons or devils, and was ransacking it at that very moment. Caelanthra asked for the PCs, the “fine strapping lads that they were”, to help her launch a raid on the observatory. She would let them take whatever trinkets they needed. They could kill all the demons and archaeologists they liked.

The PCs and Caelanthra scratched out a plan. “Wait,” they said. “We aren’t wandering in to be slaughtered. What are you going to do?”

Caelanthra struck the ground with her staff made of ice. A snow monkey ran in from outside and perched on her shoulder. She said, “I have… certain abilities.” At that, the snow storm died immediately. The PCs were suitably impressed.

She would send her loyal tribesmen to the west side of the observatory. This side was open with a gentle slope upwards. She would move them in under cover of snow mist while the PCs would sneak around the other, steeper side like shock troops. “Many Wikkawaks might be lost in the battle, but that was a worthy sacrifice”, she said. The PCs reluctantly agreed.

The raid

Under a obscuring mist, the PCs crept around the east side. There was a squat building down the ways from the main observatory. On top they spied a goat-headed humanoid resting against a wall, facing away from them. The rogue took this as a great opportunity to leap up and slit the throat of the demon.

Roll for initiative.

A chaotic fight broke out. The rogue got two rounds of surprise on the demon, sawing at his throat, expecting him to die. He did not.

The others then ran to his aid, clambering up the wall and launching Silence spells. The demon backed up and summoned an identical friend. The fight was tricky with people climbing walls and demons stabbing diseased halberds down at them. Martin Sucre copped a halberd in the face and burst into pustules.

Brus the Inquisitor made the move of the night. The original demon had been beaten up a little and decided to take a large arc around the combat to flee and get others (he couldn’t quite yell with the severed throat). Brus lined up a magnificent charge with his +1 planar lucerne hammer. The demon barely got a chance to skid to a halt before Brus showered the countryside with the demon’s chunks of flesh.

The PCs then grappled and shanked the other demon to death.

The PCs searched the building below, finding three scraps of paper amongst the ransacked remains:

WOW! Saw bright green flash on the moon. Arguing with Lobas whether he is finished with his distant planet with the crashed moon. It’s not going anywhere. Green flash is new, temporal.

Senior arcanist warned us about the usual forbidden latitudes and longitudes. Xoth, L’gy’hx, and especially the Hyades void arc

R99 135-167, 13-21 quadrant Pleiades star field seems of different character to rest. Telescope anomaly? Reading legends of Aforgomon over supper. Had queer thought that it was conglomeration of glowing spheres with the highlights a trick of light. Like anenome hiding from sun. If wild ideas are true, dwarven records suggest its approaching.

This excited and horrified the bard and the Inquisitor. Yog-sothoth was in the stars.

We left it there, with more demons and a nightmarish archaeologist to find.