A13- Make Ready to Capture the Siren

[Brian/Tulkir absent] 

🌄 Morning in the Shadow of the Count

The sun rose over the jungle canopy, casting golden light on a village that should have been silent under the threat of Count Luther Harkon. Yet, the people moved about—washing clothes, tending gardens, repairing nets—as if the vampire’s presence wasn’t a daytime danger. But what choice did they have? Harkon’s undead pirates kept them trapped, their lives a slow bleed.

Therador, the count’s spokesman, arrived to escort us through the dense jungle toward the crumbling castle atop the hillock. Along the way, we passed more villagers—lethargic, pale, drained. Walking blood-banks for the count. Luther greeted us in surprisingly good spirits, offering a trade- the shattered four-piece sword we sought in exchange for a task: Capture the siren Ketterlan and bring her to him.

His bait? A mirror the siren desperately wanted us to find. It lay in a cave on Spitting Serpent Island, where Luther once heard a voice whisper, “Free me and I’ll serve.” He warned us of his pirates but promised safe passage if we returned with both mirror and siren. Our research revealed Ketterlan was more witch than siren—no curses, but a necromancer commanding an undead army.

🛶 Voyage to Spitting Serpent Island

We spent the night at the Graves Inn before setting sail on a two-day journey to the volcanic island. Through a spyglass, we spotted movement among the huts—but something was off. Dargo adjusted the lens and gasped. Extra limbs. Mutants? No—stitched-on appendages, limp and useless.

Dark magical winds—Dhar, Shyish, Ulgu—flowed from the island. At the dock, a three-armed man named Uthon greeted us. “Dr. Emile Morot is the surgeon. He’s building an army for the count to defend against lizardmen.”

Inside the hospital, we found piles of animal parts and human limbs. A chained assistant, Fronika, whispered, “I’m next. The chains keep me from fleeing.” In the operating room, Morot was stitching a fish-head onto a patient’s shoulder. “Extra limbs mean longer battles,” he explained. “If I can make them work.”

When we mentioned the mirror, Morot admitted it wasn’t magical—just a tool to exploit Ketterlan’s vanity. It was cast inside a cave near the volcano’s summit, guarded by lizardmen. “Don’t listen to the voices inside,” he warned. He offered Kronica as a guide, but Kruger insisted on freeing Fronika, who eagerly joined our crew.

🌋 The Cave and the Dragon

We climbed the volcano’s slopes, lava streaming beside three natural paths. Two were guarded by Kroxagor lizardmen. Ranulf tried bluffing them with talk of Slann and the Great Plan, but they were too dull to understand.

Then came the voice: “Free me and I’ll assist you.” Belexatrin, an ancient lizard-dragon, trapped by a magical stone anchor about his tail. “I have the mirror. Free me and it’s yours.”

Lemmy hesitated, sensing danger. But the dragon’s fire breath and regal bearing slowly won us over. Kruger asked if humans could ride him. “Prove yourself,” Belexatrin replied.

Kruger prepared to strike the stone with his trident, but Rufus offered his cursed bow instead. As Kruger held it against the stone, the Kroxagor attacked! Dargo’s blade tore through armor, Lemmy’s spells weakened them, Rufus fired arrows, and Ranulf missed with his pistol but hit with his sling. The lizardmen slashed and whipped, but when the bow’s magic surged into the stone, a shockwave knocked us all backwards.

With the Kroxagor defeated, Belexatrin melted the rock and released the mirror. “Say a prayer, priest, and I will aid you once.” Then he soared into the sky, torching the mutant settlement below before vanishing toward Lustria’s heart.

🧜‍♀️ To the Siren’s Shoal

We retrieved the mirror, its frame etched with a note: “To my love Ketterlan, from Adagunda.” Kruger recruited Conrad, a sailor who escaped the burning huts, and we set sail for the siren’s shoal.

Two days to plan. Stuff our ears to block her song. Lure her close so Lemmy could cast silence. Use a cargo net to trap her.

Ketterlan beamed when she saw the mirror. She glided across the water, leaving her undead army behind. A wave lifted her aboard, and she gazed lovingly into the glass. We were stunned by her willingness to join us—even when Kruger revealed our mission.

“Armed with my mirror, which the count loathes, I’m eager to see his reaction,” she said. “I wonder which personality he’ll be: Pancho from Estallia, the little girl, or Reinhard von Liebowitz.”

Ranulf sighed in relief when she admitted there was no curse on him. “Just a trick to get you to do my bidding.”

🧭 What’s Next?

With the siren aboard and the mirror in hand, we sail toward Count Harkon’s castle once more. But with Ketterlan’s unpredictable nature and the count’s fractured mind, the true encounter may not be one of swords or spells—but of identity, deception, and desire.

Stay tuned for A14: “The Count’s Masquerade.”

NEXT SESSION: A14: Jolly Roger with Fangs