Council of Tea-Leaves

The Crossing
Private thoughts of Attius Findlayson


Nethys knows I have ever enjoyed the hunt. Have so since a youngster. But hunting at sea….with the dangers of thick fog….and unpredictable tides….that is different. But the thought of those small folk cast cruelly into bondage urges me forward.

Crossing ship to ship by length of rope only, I held my heart in my mouth, I can tell you. And now we stand against ogres with missile weapons….and possibly magic. I don’t think the old Mage Armor is going to be enough. Time for some dazzling magic, chaps. There are six of me now. Let that confuse those ogres for a while….

The Wave
Private thoughts of Attius Findlayson


Half Ogres, Half Elves, Half Orcs, Half Wits…and all to save a bunch of half-LINGS, it aint half nasty out here on the sea. Flying wizards, sneaky double dagger dudes, Big ol’ Mr Whippy himself with his threatened squares and his forced concentration checks. Gosh, that Doric is slow to the mark sometimes! But at least he endures!

So now I’m riding a white swan courtesy of some Halfling called The Tickler and all my mates are still alive. We freed most of the slaves but my spells are spent bar one, and not a gold piece to show for it. Ah well, I guess things could be worse….

The Beast
Private thoughts of Attius Findlayson


Wave hath inflicted such calamitous grief,
But we rest not, searching,
Through local warehouse,
Unrelenting as thief.
Ever wondrous, onward we creep
Till we awaken drowned dead from sleep.

Now in our most inconsolable peril,
We rest not, but fight,
The five of us,
Not only ghouls but new sea herald,
A monster so terrifyingly grim,
that with tentacles, sucks our life to him.

It battles us with both strength and mind,
With paralysing touch,
And grim compulsion,
It moves through players as a scythe,
But in the darkest room behind,
A rotten sea ghoul cleric we now find.

Who arms himself with steel and spell,
Resisting magic, even powerful spell,
And holds a grevious touch to heal his own,
And yet delivering harm as well.
How we rejoice that we did slay this beast,
And all its monsters ’ere our feast!

The Deep
Private thoughts of Attius Findlayson


I don’t know what I hate most: getting wet or paying 50 gold pieces to make a continual light. The only thing I hate more than that is a killer crab that almost kills you. I also hate the way Doric’s air bubbles last only three minutes and I despise having to dive into a sunken ship twice in two days. But the thing I think I hate MOST of all…is being rendered unconcious and captured by aquatic ogres. That REALLY takes the biscuit!

Looks like Attius is in a grumbling mood!

Breaking the Chains
A prayer to Desna


Hail Dear Goddess,
Break the chains
of the world
in its infant step;
its cradle of snakes,
that spit and coil, froth and boil;
and through new emissaries,
deliver us into Evil Death.
Biting brittle into boney breath.
As hov’ring madman falls to ground,
rock us to your bosom in silent sound.

Gnolls in the Ointment
A prayer to Desna


O Great and Wondrous Goddess, O Tender of Dreams,
Ye have delivered me from evil yet again it seems.
How these headmen are trusted I do not know,
He’ll do penance with Griffons and this Ye know.

Now to the Underground, Dwarves are a stomping,
But it is with hairy great Gnolls that we find ourselves romping.
Thank Ye for the magic that strengthens my voice,
and to the ’star of Davok for making “big noise”.

The Ever Changing Light
A poem for Desna


That veil of swirling darkness
that clouds the eyes of Gods
is lifted.
Shafts of time seep in,
visions wrought
by dreams distilled,
and sifted.
Images of future bright
are let through casual dreams…
deep in faithful soul.
New futures
by these very dreams
are hinted.

Picture from

Dark Hollow
A prayer to Desna


Joyous Desna
Away from your pale shelter
Deep in darkest tree
We ride the helter skelter
Smite undeath to be free
A deeper darkness bites
The hand that prays is offered
amidst the dearth of light
I worship dreams you proferred
A butterfly’s wing stills all the world’s air
And breath of Goddess Desna
Turns all that’s foul to fair.

A Storm Approaches
A Song for Desna


Hairy great gnolls who howl with hyenas
Now rest in the ground and wish they’d not seen us.
Harpy who lies at the foot of a cliff
Is smelly and silent and lies rather stiff.
Discovered shrine robber with not much to say
Takes stock of his life after running away.
Now as the dragon son demon approaches
Dwarves scurry around in a city like roaches.

The very earth shakes with anticipation
But the spirit of Desna sings with elation.

Broken Shard
A Song for Desna


Most Noble Desna, Giver of Dreams,
Guardian of Butterflies, Controller of Memes.
You restoreth our faith with protection from charm,
You deliver us from evil, and keep us from harm.
No Daemon from Hades can darken your power,
No Golem of Glass in its guardian tower
Can reflect your magnificence in your triumphant hour.


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