Discord Campaign

Chapter XI: A New Quest

(( Just want to preface this it will probably lack in detail and just be informative. I struggled to find any creative direction all week and this is probably the best we're going to get. ))

 

 

As we approached the final obstacle to climb in our return to Greenest the familiar sulfur smell reached Khevrac's nose signaling we were reaching our destination. The city still remains in shambles as we get to the top of the hill and peer down to the remnants. As the group all looks down at the entire scope of the damage to Greenest, Woghulgat is reminded to speak to Lucan and Siegurd about the dragon eggs they had retrieved from the caves. He says "These eggs will not enter our walls. There has been too much pain caused by dragons here." Lucan argues that the eggs will be fine, they are his to keep and he wants them close to him. After much discussion Woghulgat caves but compromises that they must remain on the outskirts of the city.

 

Greenest builders are seemingly prioritizing the mote of the castle area in their repair effort. Possibly to use as a last line of defense should an attack occur again. As Woghulgat, Tibus, and Khevrac head to the inner castle area to speak to Governor Nighthill, Siedgurd and Lucan remain with their eggs on the outskirts of the city. Nighthill asks the three of their quest to follow the enemies and seems sorrowful of the deaths we had endured once again. He gives us our shares that we were promised for the difficult task and we request that Raoul's share be put back into the city. Nighthill informs us that Leosin had paid for horses for our party and requested our presence in Elturel to meet with someone named Ontharr Frume. We accept. 

 

On meeting back with Lucan he relays that the eggs are not for him but for Leosin. Woghulgat thinks as long as we are taking them away from Greenest and into Elturel that remains the best decision for his home. He hopes not to regret this. 

 

We meet with the stable keeper for our new horses who is very happy to see a battle scarred Woghulgat, a new hero of the city. Woghulgat asks him to hold the eggs for us to handle some business in the city. The stable keeper is very taken aback by the request but is eventually persuaded by coin from Lucan. After hiding the eggs in some hay Woghulgat requests the stable keeper keep and eye on them and not hesitate to destroy them should they shown signs of hatching. 

 

The group as a whole heads to Mcgregor's shop to see about equipping Siegurd and replenishing our supplies. Mcgregor insists on drinking first so we head to the tavern and share pints and stories, mostly from the hilarious Dwarf. Khevrac urges Siegurd to tell the story of how she had almost killed all of us in the caves. She does but it does not amuse Mcgregor. Instead he is more curious about what she was doing the whole time she was in shackles. More Mcgregor jokes and more pints flow as we all smile and take in the moment for a little while before we head out on another difficult task the next day. Mcgregor asks us to take a young halfling Bard with us that had been causing him a headache lately. He remains that he is a very capable bard, just that he is annoying to the dwarf. His name is Oswald. 

 

We finish up the pints and head back to Mcgregor's shop to resupply finally. Siegurd purchases new armor and weapons. Oswald tries to barter with Mcgregor for a good deal on some studded leather armor, Mcgregor says hes known Oswald for one day and no fucking way it was going to happen. 

Lucan tells the group he must go speak to Nighthill on his own about some questions he has. Khevrac and Oswald head to the Tavern to purchase rooms for the night while Woghulgat and Tibus head to Wogh's shack to rest up. Siegurd remains behind with Mcgregor for unknown reasons. 

 

In the morning the group meets up at the stables and notice that Siegurd's hair is very out of sorts and she looks very relaxed. Must've been a good night. We grab our eggs, our horses and start on our road to Elturel. 

 

Out in the wild again Woghulgat hunts for food for the group as Tibus prepares it with some cleansing spells. We decide to rest after hours on the road and are ambushed by bandits. It was hard fought but we got to see the new halfling in action and what what Siegurd can actually do with some real weapons and not just her genitalia. 

 

(( Again, sorry for lack of detail and boring read. I really didn't know what to do creatively this week. Better luck next time. ))


 

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Chapter 10: Like Dominos...

We fall, Like Dominos, one by one.

 

I still remember the twins. I could have saved the mage, but I froze and couldn't even utter a word in assistance. I wasn't strong enough to save the rogue, and I fear that I wont be strong enough to prevent anymore of my… comrades from dying.

 

"Who is next," I wonder while kneeling over the cold corpse of Raoul.

 

Then, I stand and survey the aftermath of the melee. Bodies are littered across the dark stone floor. I hear the rattling of a few coins. I turn in that direction and see the rogue, Siegurd, rifling through the dead. Lining her pockets once again. But I haven't known her long, she deserves more time before I draw conclusions about her character.

 

  • Wandering around the caves
  • Combat begins: The Party vs 4 Berserkers and Cyanwrath
  • Combat doesnt go well
  • An ally appears
  • Raoul Falls
  • Wog Falls
  • Raoul Dies
  • Tibus Falls
  • Combat concluded: 3 Berserkers and Cyanwrath killed
  • 1 Berserker routed
  • Siegurd loots
  • Siegurd fails an investigation check for traps
  • Trap is set off and fills the room with poison
  • Party rests
  • Party moves on the next room
  • After another long battle where we almost die again
  • Wog thinks quickly and gives one of his rations to the flayer(?)
  • The party kills two dragonlings
  • Lucan, Siegurd and the mysterious stranger each take an egg
  • We start to leave the cave
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Session 9: Caveshrooms and Kobolds

I could feel the damp, moist air of the cave beginning to effect my thinking as if my mind was being suffocated by the stale air. I tell myself it's just exhaustion and breathe a long sigh of relief as my party decides to take a short break from our adventure. As we all collapse and lean our weary backs against the cave wall I remember an old bedtime lullaby a housekeeper of my family would sing to me as a child. I pull out my viola and gently play the melody for my friends as I softly sing the words.


Go to sleep now my dear Elven laddy
Close your eyes now or you won't be gladdy
When the sun rises a new day will come
But I won't be heeere, my shift will be done.


I open my eyes briefly to see everyone in my party except Lucan looking relaxed and happy, Before I can even process this information I drift off to enjoy a short nap, as if I was a young boy again.


I awake to see the members of my party gathering their belongings to continue our adventure. As we creep through the dark hallways our new halfling companion whispers "I feel like we're moving in circles." We continue to creep slowly through our unknown environment when we hit the end of the corridor. Before us lies a stairway heading downwards in to the darkness. Again I hear the high-pitched voice of our pint-sized companion "Before we go down the stairs I should check for traps!"


Finding none we proceed downwards until we reach another dark hallway, the ground is covered in some sort of naturally growing fungi that makes for a pillowy cushion under out feet. Is the air even staler down here? I think to myself. I look up from where I was watching my dusty boots to see our mystical dwarf bend down and pick up some brownish leaves, That must have been some kind of legendary herb. Ì think to myself as we continue to move forward. As we proceed through the shadows the gentle clinking of Tibus's chain armor grabs our attention and the group quickly realizes that we are not alone. The much larger, fully grown spores of the fungus beneath our feet is slowly creeping closer to us from the far end of the hallway.


A skirmish ensues as we make quick work of the sluggish fungi.


Woghulgat swings mightily with his great scimitar opening a giant oozing gash on his enemy's stem. Jumping in to fray with a mighty roar Tibus the warrior of Kord bludgeons one of the fungi with his great sheild pushing it back several feet, as the fungi recoils Tibus takes a knee in combat, his lips moving silently as he speaks to his god. Woghulgat bares his teeth and enters  his berzerker spin, forgetting in the moment to spot a stationary object before spinning he is overcome with dizziness and misses his atttack, instead opening a bloody gash above the eye of our new hafling friend. "Why don't you spend some more time at the battle master?!" Tibus yells to woghulgat as he looks up from his quick prayer. "Why don't you spend some more time on your feet!" Woghalgut retorts. 


Just then the sorcerer Lucan raises his open palm towards the spore and a bolt of fire spews forth scorching the ground beneath the spores, dark smoke erupts from still maturing fungi on the ground as our largest attacker hisses angrily, vile steam erupting from his orifices. 

 

Seeing that it is my moment to assist my allies I jump in, stabbing one of the spores with my razor sharp rapier. I see an unknown ooze drip from the puncture wound as I leap back with a flourish. 
I hear the snap of the whips cracking their foe before I see the gray flashes in my periphery. The Halfling must half used her whips around me. I think to myself, shaking my head. What if the broad had hit me by mistake?!


The fungal spores lie motionless on the ground, defeated. I grimace as I step over one that's split from mushroom tip to root, probably from the Halfling's chain whip. It was lucky her attack stayed true, otherwise I could have been cut that way! I again think to myself.


"Perhaps we should stabilize the Halfling!" I say, feeling somewhat dizzy and weary from combat. My party members look at me curiously then look back at the Halfling who is standing upright wiping blood from her face. "Uhhh, what? Are you blind? She doesn't need to be stabilized, she's fine." Lucan says rudely. "We can bandage her if need be." The much friendlier Woghulgat chimes in. Perhaps the stale cave air is effecting my thinking again.


Tibus the Cleric of Kord steps forward with a bandage to assist the Halfling, Lucan pushes him aside with a huff and hands the rogue a potion in a glass flask, she drinks it and the color returns to her cheeks immediately as the open gash closes before our eyes leaving only a faint pink scar. "you've done good pig." The halfling squeeks as she gently slaps Lucan's cheek.


I hear the deep rumble of Woghugat's voice from behind me "Khevroc, could I taste one of these dead mushrooms? That's ok, right?" He asks the mystical Druid. "You can if you'd like, but I would not." The wise old Dwarf responds.


As the rogue searches for treasure around the hallway she looks at Tibus and quips "Maybe you should wear quieter armor in the future, big guy."


We all cling to the shadows as we continue stealthily along the corridor.


As we approach another stairway I remember the previous one we descended and remind our new rogue friend to be on the lookout for tricks and traps. Turning to me as if about to say thank you the rogue misses some sort of tripwire as the ground and stairs collapse beneath us.


Finding ourselves in a mess hall surrounded by kobolds we prepare for yet another battle. Leaping forward the first Kobold swipes at Woghugat with his dagger slashing him across the bicep. The second foe lunges forward at Tibus, underestimating the distance between them and falling short of contact. Tibus reacts swiftly taking the opportunity to slash with his greatsword downing the foe in one mighty blow, reeling backwards Tibus belows mightily obviously inspired by his kill. With a dissinterested huff and a wave of his self-righteous hand Lucan puts four of the enemy Kobolds to sleep Psh, Sleep? A wench could have done that just as easily. I think to myself, still burning from Lucan's earlier slight. Just then a Kobold leaps att my left flank from the shadows catching me with his dagger between two of my ribs. I am overcome with a sharp burning pain and feel a faint pop inside my chest as my right lung begins to fill with blood. I can't believe my last thought will be of that horse's ass. I think to myself as I prepare for death to take me. Darkness surely comes as a second Kobold cracks me on the side of my head with his hammer. The world is washed away by black as I slip in to unconsciousness.


As I blink my eyes open I slowly realize that I am still alive. As my vision comes in to focus I make out the blurry edge of what could be an angel leaning closer to me, as my sight begins to clear I instead realize it's the bony face of none other than Lucan. I sigh knowing that my party must have healed my wounds and accept his outstrethed hand as he pulls me to my feet. 


We navigate ourselves out of the dungeon after deciding as a group to exit the cave and take a long rest. God knows my bruised ribs and ego could use it.

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Chapter 6: No Turning Back

Adventure Log 6: No Turning Back

 

Prelude

     The road to the camp, if you could call it a road, had been nothing short of treacherous. It wasn't the weather. Nor was it the terrain. The danger- as it had been since the first meeting of Woghulgat and the adventurers- was the cultists.

 

     The death of the half-elf had shaken the group. While they had all come close along their travels, it was Aldar to taste the bitter cocktail of finality. But the mission remained. Energy sapped from battles and traveling became replenished by driving motives of justice and revenge. The prisoner Lukan would travel with them. They had to find Leosin, or the loss would be for nothing.

 

Outside the Camp

     The path leading to the camp grows muddier and rutted as the adventurers approach. The small, dog-like pads of kobold feet and deep gashes in the earth from cart wheels struggling to push through the untouched soil all but point the direction towards the camp. Rolen volunteers to scout ahead, and discovers the cultists' camp in a deep valley not too distant from the others. With a light step and tightly clasped hood, the half-elf prowls through the valley, remaining unseen.

 

     Upon his return, Rolen explains to the other what he saw: the multi-tiered valley houses a large force of the cultists. On the first level, the kobolds and mercenaries segregate into different areas. The second level belongs to the cultists, along with a sizable pen housing wyrmlings. But it is the third level that intrigues most of the adventurers. On it, a large tent blocked by a large number of cultists sits. Lukan, the escaped prisoner who is now traveling with the group, mentions that the tent is where the leaders of this mercenary group are located: Rezmir, the black half-dragon. Cyanwrath, the half-blue, and Azbara Jos.

 

     Rolen's scouting riles the group into action. Khevrac, upon hearing the half-dragons are at the camp, becomes oddly solemn. "Rezmir, and the cultist Frulan are the whole reason I'm here. They killed my whole family and they are not leaving this place alive." After Khevrac's decision, the group continues debating whether to enter the camp or not. No one notices the cultist sentry, who barks to the group to get back inside the camp. Whether a god's blessing or simply luck, the group has been confused for the camp's rear guard and not a surprised group of intruders.

 

Inside the Camp

     Taken off guard, the group moves closer into the first level of the camp to avoid suspicion. Rolen mentions quietly that he will continue his scouting mission on the second level, looking for Leosin and the ill-gotten plunder from Greenest. The rest of the group makes their way over the human mercenaries. The acrid smell of smoke, cooking meat, and old blood waft throughout the lower portion of the valley. Kobolds sit hunched over spit-roasted vermin, squabbling over charred bits of flesh and worthless trinkets stolen from farmers.

 

     Woghulgat and the others take their place by a fire near the valley's wall. While the mercenaries are initially skeptical of the group, the half-orc's excuse of drunkenness convinces the sellswords that they simply got distracted on their way back to camp. Sharing food and alcohol with the mercenaries, the adventurers soon blend in with the rest of the cultist’s followers. With the new potential to scout the camp unimpeded, the adventurers strike out to enact their individual plans.

 

     Tibus, Khevrac, and Woghulgat remain in the mercenary area of the camp. Lukan, the former prisoner, speaks with a mercenary and leaves to exact a small bit revenge upon the kobolds with his sorcery. Woghulgat approaches a goliath named Doxar and promptly loses in an arm wrestling contest. Although friendly to the half-orc, the goliath has no information relating to Leosin.

Unbeknownst to the others, Raoul is almost discovered by the sharp-eyed quartermaster. Utilizing the same excuse as before seems to be effective in this camp- Raoul quickly leaves with a convincing, stumbling gait. Away from the prying eyes of the quartermaster, the bard breathes a sigh of relief and begins making his way back to the others below.

 

     Before nightfall, the group convenes back at the mercenary camp. Rolen and Lukan discuss “The College”, but little of what is said is intelligible to others around. After the discussion, Rolen sets off again to the second story of the valley in search of Leosin. Upon a second round of scouting, he sees the monk tied up near the prisoner pens. The monk is exhausted and thirsty, but his vigor returns slightly when Rolen lets him drink from his waterskin.

 

     The water runs down his mouth and onto his filthy clothes, sputtering from drinking too quickly, Leosin explains that he needs his equipment from a chest located in a nearby tent. Rolen promises the monk that he will be rescued soon, and slinks back down the slope to the lower portion of the valley to inform the others of his location. Upon returning, he sits near the wall and slumps down into sleep, the exhaustion accrued from the road and the loss of his brother too much to bear at once.

 

     When Rolen wakes up, discussion quickly leads to a final rescue plan. They will split into two teams: Tibus, Raoul, Khevrac, and Woghulgat will rescue the monk, while Rolen will retrieve his equipment from the tent he described. The plan seemed simple. But no plan survives contact with the enemy.

 

Finale

     The half-elf creeps closer to the tent. He carefully inspects the folds of the cloth entryway for wires, runes- anything that could indicate a potential trap. With a half-elf’s keen eyes, the darkness does nothing to inhibit the skills he had acquired over many years. Slowly, with bated breath, he peels back the flap.

 

     Nothing. Lucky, he thinks. It hadn’t been the first time on this journey a trap had been sprung. The guards inside, fresh from a shift change, snore loudly on cots in the tent. Looking across, he sees the chest described by Leosin. The guards don’t notice the elf’s light step, nor do they see him in the darkness. The mission was finally nearing its end. Crouching down, Rolen opens the chest. Little do the adventurers know that these moments will be his last.

 

     A hissing spray of poison gas erupts from the chest into the face of Rolen. Eyes blurred and stumbling, he runs past the two alerted guards through the door of the tent. Crashing down outside the tent, there is no strength left in his limbs. Spitting blood and mucus, he looks up towards the sky. No stars shined tonight. The only gleam seen by the half-elf was the vicious curved blade of a scimitar arcing down towards him.

 

     Woghulgat and Khevrac near the monk, still tied to a post. Together they free the monk, surprisingly arousing no suspicion. They make their way to Tibus, Khevrac, and Raoul, who stayed behind to provide a lookout and make sure their escape was possible. The question of Rolen’s location, who hadn’t made it back, was still unknown. But time was not on the group’s side. Without Rolen, Leosin’s equipment, or Greenest’s belongings, the group flees through the gates into the hazy gloom of the night.

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Session 8: The Power Within

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The  high pitch voice of the halfling pierces my ears as she demands us to let her free. She is chained up against the wall her feet dangling from the floor due to her small stature. Wogogaut and Tibus pull the chains from the wall to set her free. She falls to the floor and attempts to cover herself up. We hand her some clothes and she dresses.

 

I look over to her and ask “What brought you to this place?”

 

“My name is Siegurd. I was on my way to Greenest to seek adventure.”

 

“Adventure seeker? Me too I love adventure.” My impulse kicks in without even having to think to respond to her.

 

“When I was captured by this group of cultists. They chained me up here for a few days. I.. I.. They …had their way with me. More than once.” She looks to the floor as though she never wants to think of it again. “They’ll will die for what they have done to me.” She responds as she looks at the chains around her wrists. “These will do nicely.” As she lifts her head to look at the rest of us with a determined look on her face.

 

A horrible fate, though, her voice is… annoying. I think to myself.

 

Looking back to the rest of the group Kevrok says “Let’s continue. Should we go back the way we came or forward?”

 

“Let’s continue to the south.” I say in an attempt to just get moving. We have been standing around too long.

 

The group agrees and we head towards the southern exit of the room as the halfling takes point. The corridors are dark as we continue forward. The walls made of pure stone just large enough for us all to walk through deeper into the natural cavernous maze. A flickering light shines through an opening on the right. Another room. I think to myself as we continue on. Approaching the opening we hear some muttering and the small crackle of a fire. The rogue barrels into the room and the rest of us follow. We halt just inside the opening from the natural hallway. Six cultists stand before us at the ready. They knew we were coming. I think to myself.

 

A mote of fire begins to form within my hand in preparation. It grows until it begins to lick my hand. I extend my arm aiming directly towards the cultist in front of me. My companions rush forward with the mote. A clash of fire, steel and teeth begins. The halfling lashes out with her chains at the closest cultists she can reach. Raoul pokes his rapier with precision impaling a cultist right in the heart. A mossy wolf rushes forward to engage. Wogougot unsheathes his weapon slicing himself in the process but fueling his rage further. Cultists begin to fall after taking blows from our party but not without enduring damage ourselves. This one is quite tough I may have to end this quickly. It could come with a cost, however, it must be done for our guaranteed survival. I think, as Wogogauts blade is deflected by a cultist in full armor. I move behind them in preparation for my attack and I begin my incantation.

 

“Roar of the fire fill me with power.” I can feel the power beginning to grow within me. “Strike down those that lie before me.” I raise my hands towards the cultists before me. “Engulf me in flames and show them no mercy.” Power flows from my core to my extremities as fire begins to form in front of my palms. “Release my power to those that lie before me!” An unusual power begins to overcome me. I can not contain it this time. It is happening once again as it has in the past. The lights begin to dim as the world closes down around me and then blackness. I am overcome with power as it flows through my whole body releasing it from my fingertips. “BURN!” A streak of lightning strikes the cultist with no visible sign of damage. “BURN!” The cultist begins to grow in size. His ankles, legs and arms begin to lock into place. His feet begin to turn grey. It climbs up his body until it fully engulfs him. He has been turn into stone. “BURN!” A streak of fire flies past the statue. The power begins to leave my body as my vision returns to me. It’s over. I look around the room to survey the damage done. No one is hurt this time. I have gotten through it once again. The rest of the cultists are cut down by my party and only the statue remains. Wogogaut reaches forward to push it down. The statue falls to the floor and shatters. The stone crumbles away as it falls off the flesh of the being inside the statue. It begins to stand up from the rubble and attack Wogogaut. Tibus rushes towards it to attack and grab its attention taking massive damage. We unleash fire and steel upon the fleshy monster until it falls to the floor. This is my fault. I should not have risked it.

 

We sit down and take a breath after the battle with the cultists and monster. All look beat up but not beat down. We still have fight left within us. Tibus turns to us and asks us how we feel. All respond in a similar fashion except the bard who has not taken a hit at all. Tibus sits down and begins to pray. A feeling of vigor fills me as my wounds heal. We continue on.

 

We once again continue through the natural maze of halls until we eventually come upon a wide open room. A large red rug covers the floor with a wooden desk off to the side with some papers on it. In the corner of the room a woman stands at the ready dressed in lavish robes. The druid immediately recognizes the woman. A rage fills his eyes as I have not seen before and he begins to charge. This must be why he is here. The group follows behind him into battle. This time they will not leave his side to fight on his own.


Siegurd, Kevrock, Wogogaut, and Raoul rush within range of the cultist woman. Tiles begin to fall beneath their feet to a dark abyss below. They all are quick enough to recognize the danger and jump out of the way. She has positioned herself behind the traps to catch them off guard and protect herself from any attacks within melee range. A spectral hammer materializes in front of Tibus and myself halting our progress forward. Chains, fire, and a halberd fly over the pits to connect with the woman. She has had enough, however, swarms of lightning begin to form around her stretching over the pits. Ghouls form from the lightning within the storm and lash out violently to all within range. My companions near her take massive damage. She chants the spell once again and another pulse of lightning empowers the ghouls and lashes out. Siegurd and Rolen both fall to the floor and the other two look as though they are on their last breath. It must be done. I think to myself as I begin to focus my power within myself. Once again forming a mote of fire in my hands. I tap deep within myself to pull forth a surge and channel it into the fire I am sculpting. Flames lash out that I can barely suppress so that it does not engulf myself. I unleash the ball aiming it directly at the woman who threatens to take us all down. The magic flies towards her hitting directly in the middle of her chest. It begins to sear the flesh and burn her pristine robes digging a hole into her body and then completely engulfs her in flames. She lets out a loud scream before falling to the floor lifeless. I have gotten away with it once again. There will be a time, though, where it does not bode so well for us. I hope that day is not our last. I hope it does not force me to run again.

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Session 7

Early light turned to afternoon as the motley crew makes their way back to the city of Greenest. The large half orc leads the group into the keep of the castle, waving back at the welcoming faces of the residents. As they continue through the castle, Liosin is escorted to the infirmary and quickly treated. Governor Nighthill welcomes the group, saying, “Well? What news have you?”

<meta />

 

Tibus raises an arm in a sweeping gesture to Lucan, “He just recently escaped from the Dragon Cult camp, he should be able to tell you all the information you need.” Hearing the cleric’s words, the sorcerer looks up at the governor and begins to retell the information that he had previously shared with the adventurers. As Lucan speaks of the layout of the camp and the forces that occupy it, Nighthill nods his head. With the report complete, Nighthill reaches into his bag and begins to count out platinum pieces, dispersing 250 platinum to each of the adventurers.

 

The governor continues to count his platinum and realizes that two are missing, despite the addition of the man named Lucan. “Where are the high elf twins? Did they not leave with you?”

 

Woghulgat speaks up and tells of Aldar’s demise and his burial on the trail to Greenest. Amongst themselves, the group wonders aloud about the elven rogue, and assume he must have left the camp on his own and would return to Greenest soon. Nighthill turns to the half orc and says, “I believe there is someone here that can aid in your training. He is working with the militia, preparing them for the next time Greenest comes under siege. His name is Sildar Bladeseeker.”

 

Lucan speaks up to Nighthill, asking if any information has been discovered about the
cultists or his captured friend, Talis. The governor has no information to give Lucan, but offers to share any new information with the sorcerer.

 

The group departs and immediately head for the tavern. It isn’t long before they find themselves within The Humble Ox. Sitting at one of the rounded tables, Khevrac and Woghulgat order a daily special of short ribs as the rest of the group finds satisfaction in a round of mead.  Woghulgat stands with the human male bartender and asks about the status of the town. Sorrow fills the face of the half orc as he learns of the ravaging of the northwestern part of town, the destroyed homes, the ransacked chapel…but hope returns to him as he hears of the chapel and its protectors offering aid to the displaced townspeople.

 

Wooden plates are brought out to the round table, with wisps of steam coming off the racks of ribs. Large flagons are brimming with mead, and Khevrac takes a deep pull from his headless drink. Lucan speaks up, asking where the others call home.  Raoul speaks of Luskan, and the sorcerer interjects that Luskan was also once his home.

 

“So, where you all from? Lucan asks, “Why are you out helping this town? You don’t look like you all belong here. Raoul smiles and replies, “Well i come from a far off port city named Luskan. I’ve been travelling for many a year and seen many a place…” Interrupting the Raoul, Lucan speaks up, “Uh,I’m from there too.” The smile on the bard widens as he says, “Then you’ll know that Luskan is a very seedy, seedy city, by the coast.” With shifting eyes, Lucan says, “Ah, yes, very seedy.” The sorcerer turns to face Woghulgat and asks, “And where are you from?” Woghulgat grunts through his short ribs, “I live here.” Lucan quickly says, “Oh good, nice town you got.” Woghulgat sets down the rib and says, “Nicer before the dragon.” Still looking about, Lucan asks, “What, dragon? You mean the dragon with the cultist?” Woghulgat goes on to describe the dragon that attacked Greenest’s keep. Lucan chirps, “Ah yes, the cultists tamed that dragon, and they attack settlements with it. It’s a very scary dragon…” Woghulgat asks Lucan, “What are you doing in this area?” Lucan replies, “Looking for friend that I spoke of earlier, hopefully she isn’t dead. Have you heard about this woman?” Each member of the group shakes their head, and Lucan turns his gaze to Tibus. “And where are you from, he asks?”

 

Tibus looks up from his drink and says, “ I hail from a town near the Grey Peak Mountains, it doesn’t exist anymore…Speaking it’s name wouldn’t make a difference, you wouldn’t have heard of it.” With another darting look, Lucan says, “Oh yes, I’ve heard of this place.” With half a frown, Tibus says, “Yes, it really is a striking place, isn’t it?” The sorcerer seems eager to correct himself and says, “Ah, no, I’ve never been, so I couldn’t speak to that. But i have heard things of this place…very…lush.” At this, Tibus becomes very suspicious of the sorcerer. “It’s very strange, since it’s very snowy.” Despite contradicting the cleric, Lucan immediately agrees with Tibus. Tibus continues with his tale of home and speaks of the dragon that destroyed it.

 

Khevrac changes the subject, bringing up the group's previous encounters, including their time at the threatened mill. The mead continues to flow, and the group continues their banter. Despite the hearty conversation, the cleric continues to study the suspicious sorcerer. As the hour grows late, Woghulgat returns to his home and the others acquire rooms from The Humble Ox. Before departing, the group agrees to meet the next morning.

 

Coming down to breakfast, Raoul sings of the Amakiir mage. Khevrac asks why he would be singing about the recently dead elves Group finishes their breakfasts and rejoin back at the Humble Ox.

 

With the rising sun, both Tibus and Woghulgat head to the militia barracks. As they approach, they see many of the townspeople lined in a single formation. As they watch, a man with battle torn armor leads the militia through fundamentals of swordsmanship. The man wears abused plate mail armor, has a scarred face and graying hair. Woghulgat approaches the man, and asks, “Sildar Bladeseeker?” The man nods, studies the half orc, and says, “I hear you are the Champion of Greenest?” The scarred face shifts to one of mild embarrassment, and speaks of the half dragon in an attempt to deflect the Bladeseeker’s words. Sildar continues, asking for more detail regarding the half dragon. As the half-orc recounts his contest with the half dragon, Sildar seems impressed, and says, “that’s a lot to take in…” With their conversation drawing to a close, Woghulgat asks Sildar, “is there anything you can teach me?” Sildar smiles and points to an opening in the grass field.

 

“Eadyan Falconmoon will watch over us,” says Sildar. The armored man leads Woghulgat to the opening and challenges the half-orc to hit him. Woghulgat strikes out, misses with his first strike, and his second strike is easily parried by Sildar. As they continue, Sildar asks Tibus to join their training. With Tibus’s and Eadyan’s healing, the sparring pair continue to trade blows. As the fighting continues, Sildar keeps his eyes fixed on Woghulgat’s movements, calling out ways for the half-orc to better strike out with his scimitars. This continues for hours between the four, with militia men and women joining in the lesson. With the lesson halted, Tibus and Woghulgat return to their group, speaking of the awesome display given by Sildar.

 

The group walks to the town’s general goods store, McGregor’s Magnificent Merchandise, only to find it closed with a sign that says “Gone Drinking, At The Tavern.” Shrugging, the group makes their way back to the Humble Ox. As they walk in, the single occupant is hard to miss. A short dwarf, legs dangling well above the floor, sips from a tall flagon.

 

Raoul steps to the Dwarf, clears his throat, and greets the man in Dwarven. Raoul’s face turns to one of embarrassment when the dwarf calls to Khevrac, saying, “Oye! What did your boy say?” With an apology, and a fresh round for the dwarf, Raoul and the group sit with McGregor. McGregor takes a long pull from his flagon, keeping an eye fixed on Raoul, and begins to speak. “You see this bar? Built it with me own two hands. But no, they don’t call me McGregor the bar builder. And that wall,” the dwarf points out the window to a stone wall, “I built that with me own two hands, but they don’t call me McGregor the wall builder.” The dwarf leans in, both eyes staring into Raoul’s, and continues. “That pier behind ye,” still staring at the bard, “I built that with me bare hands, but they don’t call me McGregor the pier builder. But you fuck one goat…” and with that, the dwarf laughs uproariously at his own joke, and the group quickly joins in. Still eyeing Raoul, McGregor asks for a story. Despite sitting among friends and the jovial dwarf, stumbles through his story of the Giant Beanstalk. With an eyebrow raised, McGregor consoles the bard and says, “we’ll have to work on that.”

 

The dwarf shares with the group that he has many stores throughout various towns, and that they will be able to look into his wares within Greenest. The group continues to drink, and McGregor moves to speak with Raoul. As they talk, McGregor shares with him the requirements for the College of Lore as a bard. Finished, the dwarf calls for the group to join him to his store. Members of the group purchase Potions of Healing. Tibus attempts to trade his mace and warhammer for a longsword. As McGregor agrees to trade, with an extra 20P for the overhead costs, Raoul tries to
perform to cover the additional platinum. As he finishes, Raoul smiles to the dwarf. A scowl on his face, McGregor turns to Tibus and says, “25 platinum for the sword.”

 

With their newfound provisions, the group returns to the tavern, enjoying some ale. Lucan tries to get the group to find his friend, but the consensus is to go to Nighthill first. As they approach the keep, guards and Liosin are awaiting the group with Nighthill. Liosin thanks the adventurers for saving his life. “I need you to return to the cultist camp,” he says, “and I need you to check if they’re going to remove anything from the caves.” Liosin gives a forced smile as he continues, “ I don’t recommend getting captured…” The smile disappears and he says, “I will be traveling to Elturrel to speak with a friend, Ontharr the paladin of Torm. I see that you’re all eager, it won’t go unrewarded. After you’ve successfully completed this task, head to Elturrel, and I will give you 150 platinum each.

 

After expressing concern for Rolen, the group leaves Greenest. As they step into the camp of the Cult of the Dragon, it’s immediately apparent that the forces have moved on. As the adventurers investigate the first the level of the camp, they see matted grass as if the group broke camp and marched off. “Their fires are still warm,” Woghulgat says. The group continues their search, and as they make it to the second level of the valley, they find the cold body of Rolen face down in the
mud. With no time to bury their fallen comrade, the group makes their way up to the third level of the camp.

 

As they lead the others, Woghulgat and Raoul find the opening to an enormous cave. Upon entering, they see varying ceiling heights and the light receding into the cavern. The group steps into the cave, echoes can be heard from the cavern’s depths: miniature wildlife, dripping water, and the clanks, thuds, and coughs of unknown humanoids.

 

Khevrac studies the cave entrance and says, “I don’t sense any traps as far as I can see.” Behind him, the half-orc snorts, “You first old man.” Stepping forward, Khevrac leads the group into the cavern. As he leads them around a stalagmite, the group is spotted by a pair of guards. With stealth on their side, Lucan and Raoul strike out at the guards, with Lucan hitting one of the guards with a fireball. Woghulgat produces his newly purchased crossbow and fires a bolt into the darkness. Khevrac  strikes out his enemy with his quarterstaff, wheezing as he makes contact. Stepping to the dwarf’s right, Tibus strides forward and slays the guard with a single strike. After suffering another fireball strike from the sorcerer, the guard desperately strikes out. With a swing of his sword, he cleaves fingers from Raoul’s sword hand. Stepping to Raoul’s aid, Woghulgat and Khevrac finish the guard with a strike each. Raoul stoops, grasps his amputated fingers, and places them delicately in his pouch.

 

The group continues to sneak deeping into the cavern. As he leads them down a passageway, Khevrac feels a slight change in the air, as if the thinnest of fogs were hanging in the corridor. He gestures for the group to stop and bends to collect herbs from the floor. The cold and damp weeds in his hand, the dwarf smiles to himself and whispers, “quite the dank find…” With his herbs collected, Khevrac signals for the group to follow.

 

The group finds a chamber at the end of the passageway, finding a sleeping cultist and a chained up female Halfling. Woghulgat tries to jump onto the cultist and lands, missing by inches. The half-orc swings down with his scimitar, and drives the blade into his foot. In similar fashion, Lucan casts a spell and hits himself with it. Together, Tibus and Raoul hit the cultist, killing him. With the cultist slain, Tibus and Woghulgat attempt to bring the halfling down from the wall. Tibus yanks
one of the irons from the wall. With all but the dwarf attempting to free the halfling, Woghulgat pulls the second chain from the wall. Siegurd speaks up, with a high squeaking voice, and comments about the groups failed attempts within the room. Raoul feeds the halfling a ration while Tibus cuts a makeshift robe to cover their new female companion.

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Chapter 5: Friendship, Despair, and Resolve

My many beady eyes canvas what I can see from the ground floor. “Where are my friends?” My physical self has changed but my thoughts remain my own as my swarm of rats remains restless. I split my time between biting, clawing, and tearing at my foe to come up for air and survey the field with my watchful eyes. I am alone again, my friends have abandoned me just like everyone else in my life.

 

Bite, claw, tear. Bite, claw, tear.

 

Forget about them. Forget about everyone. I am not here for anyone but myself and the faint memories of my departed family.

 

I feel a a sharp sting to my side and it all brings me back to the present. I am being swarmed by cultists and do not have time to think about my problems. It is time to fight for my life.

 

Bite, claw, tear. Bite, claw, tear.

 

As I sink my hundreds of tiny, sharp teeth into my opponent I hear a slight and familiar foot step. Almost incoherent to one without heightened senses I am alone no more.

 

Rolen, who had made it down the valley's road towards his brother Aldar had looked back and had lost his Dwarf Khevrac. The only vision he had from afar was a mass of cultists fighting what appeared to be the ground. He knew his Dwarven comrade was short, but not so short he couldn't see him from this trench. He headed back and made a sprinting jump up from the deep trench onto the top shelf. There before Rolen was a recognizable and unforgettable pack of rats fighting off the Cultists. It had to be Khevrac, he told himself. Rolen, who still had a fear of rats from days ago wastes no time and jumps into action regardless. He quickly and precisely slices the back of a heavy armored enemy. In the flurry of Khevrac's weakened bunch of rats he peaks his unblinking eyes up from the bottom of the pile to see what appears to be his Elf companion Rolen. He feels encouraged to keep up the fight. Maybe he wasn't alone again after all. 

Khevrac springs up from the ground returning to his Dwarven self. Wielding his trusted staff Willowflight he swings as hard has he can and with all the power of his loved one's memories at the nearest cultist; bashing in their chest armor. Two enemies remain. As the staff connects he hear the sounds of a flute nearby. The charismatic bard Raoul began to play a melody as Rolen and Khevrac kept up the fight. I use my power from all of nature that surrounds us to heal Rolen and Raoul. “We can win this” Khevrac said to himself with a smirk. As the three fought the remaining foes, almost in a synergic fashion, a crossbow bolt whizzes by our heads to connect with another enemy. One enemy remains. As the final adversary stands there dumfounded at the sheer clout of our skill we all take one more swing each, almost in unison to bring him down.

As the blood drips from not only our weapons but our own person, pain is not felt. The act of achieving the impossible keeps us upright. We may be worn down but we had won. I look to Raoul who looks gleeful as ever, most likely thinking of new lyrics to describe what occurred here this day. I then look to Rolen who was not in high spirits. He stands at the edge of the top of the valley, still as stone, looking East. Rolen slides down the valley into the trench, gets up and starts sprinting at what appears to be a set of bodies in the distance.

 

Khevrac and Raoul follow suit, running down the hill into the deep trench to see what had brought Rolen out of this sunny moment. We arrive to be reacquainted with the human Tibus and the half-orc Woghulgat, crossbow in hand standing over a body. Rolen drops to his knees. The lifeless body is Aldar, Rolen's twin brother.

 

Khevrac steps back in disbelief. Overwhelmed with the emotion of grief but also blame.  Rolen had left his brother's side to aid Khevrac against the cultists. "Am I responsible?" Khevrac ponders to himself.

Woghulgat removes some clothing orc clothing from his pack and begins to wrap Aldar's lifeless body with the utmost respect intended. 

 

Khevrac looks around, mind still not in the right place.

 

The group has taken a captive.

 

As Woghulgat and Tibus struggle to silence the badly wounded cultist to no avail. Rolen, still filled with grief over the passing of his brother takes out his dagger, walks up the the very loud and uncooperative cultist. Rolen inserts his dagger deep into his mouth cutting downward from the cheek to the gut. As he lay there twitching, trying to breathe his last breath Rolen just stands over him, watching. He wants to make sure that he is the last thing this cultist sees before he croaks.  

Rolen and Tibus bury Aldar. It is a sad moment for the group. He was our friend after all. Rolen walks away from the the remaining four and stands alone, away from us all. I walk up beside him and place my arm on the small of his back. “Rolen..” Khevrac says, “I know what it is like to lose family. I have lost all the family I ever had in this world. I know the pain you are going through. But I must tell you, do not let this rage consume you.” Rolen nods and I discern that nothing more needs to be said after that. I walk away. I take maybe 10 steps before stopping again. I look back at him, standing there, trying to put it all together. I whisper “I am sorry” under my breath. I walk back to the group and have a seat.

We set up camp to rest overnight. Rolen demands that he takes first watch, he probably wouldn't be able to rest if he tried. I choose to stay awake with him, not only to watch over the other four but to make sure Rolen doesn't do anything rash.

 

The campfire cracks and pops as Raoul, Tibus, and Woghulgat sleep off what has been our most challenging test yet. Rolen finally speaks to me. He tells me “Aldar and I had one dying wish from our father, now I must complete this task alone.” I think about my family when he says this. I myself am on a quest to avenge my family that the Cult of the Dragon had slain when I was just a young boy. “Rolen” I whisper. He looks at me almost in tears. “You don't have to do it alone.” He nods and we watch the fire. 

 

As fatigue sets in I start to close my eyes. I try to open them. Close them again. In the corner of my left eye I notice a small, faint light. As it floats towards me, growing brighter I do not know if I am dreaming or not. As the light gets closer it slowly floats up to my left ear. It says to me:

 

"You are one with the earth and nature and I can feel the power that drives through your veins, If you'll have me, I would like to accompany you on your journey and be the strength behind your blows, together we will find the peace you seek."

Khevrac grumbles, he must be dreaming. As he closes his eyes once again to finally rest the light floats down from his ear to his staff and finds a small crack in the top notch of Willowflight and enters.

 

As the sun starts to rise up from the hills in the distance Khevrac begins to stir. He rubs his eyes to remove his clouded vision. He sees a tall, slender man sitting around the fire with us all. “Aldar?” he thinks to himself. As his vision clears he notices this man is not Aldar. Woghulgat tells us that his name is Lucan and he has escaped from the cultist's fortress ahead of us when he noticed our campfire close to the road on the way to Greenest. Khevrac feels skeptical but having full faith in Woghulgat he puts that aside and lets his guard down. The man also instilled a sense of trust in the way he sat amongst us. 

We start to formulate a plan to infiltrate the cultist stronghold. With Lucan's prior knowledge of the area it should give us an advantage in passing through undetected.

 

As we gather our belongings and ready ourselves for what the future holds for our already splintered group we all stand next to the dying campfire in a half circle with all eyes pointed at Rolen. There he stands near his brother's grave, maybe for the last time. He mutters a few words to himself, turns around and sees us all looking at him. Khevrac, fighting back tears, filled with immense sadness for Rolen as well as the possible blame he he feels waits for him to finish his respects to his fallen brother.

 

Rolen then starts to walk, standing tall and proud. The group follows in a line.

 

Rolen, Lucan, Tibus, Raoul, Khevrac, and Woghulgat must finish this for not only the people of Greenest but also for Aldar.

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Chapter 4: Dragons and Parapets, or "How I learned to stop caring about grouping and embrace the dragons breath."

As the archers drag me, to the infirmary I assume, I see people off in the distance. A family beset upon by the kobolds. Few bodies scattered around them bleeding out. I see a bloodied woman crawling to a smaller body, a mother and child perhaps. She almost gets there before a cultist stands over her and stabs down into her back. I can hear her screams from here. But she still clawed at the ground, trying to get to her daughter.

 

"I can't let another village fall to dragons…" I say, though I'm sure it only sounds like unintelligible gurgling to anyone else if the taste of iron in my mouth is any indication.

 

So lost in my thoughts, I don't notice the medics patching me up, nor them moving me to the bed. Or, more likely, I passed out. It was in the next moment that Governor Nighthill walks in and informs everyone that the proverbial gauntlet has been thrown. I look around and I'm surprised. No one is dead. We're all still here, alive. Hell of a lot of good that did for the family from before… 


Now some lizardman, or whatever it is, is challenging our "best warrior" to fight him. Were any of us fully rested, we would stand a minute chance of success. But we're not. We're tired. We've been at this for what feels like a week, and it doesnt feel like we've made any progress. I feel like I've failed.

 

"Kord, give me strength." I mutter to myself as I begin to step forward-

 

"These people brought me in, dying." Woghulgat starts "They didnt have to save me, they could have left me out there with the wolves to pick my body. But they didnt. So if I have a life left tot live, then this is an honorable enough cause to give it. And everyone loves a fight."

 

What followed, I almost couldn't bear to watch. The lizardman was obviously toying with the Half-Orc. Though, he earned himself a few blows for his hubris. But in the end, Woghulgat fell and the lizardman slashed him across the face. He kept his word, though. As he turned to leave, the kobolds went with him leaving the woman and two children behind. As I carry our fallen champion back to the infirmary, a warm light shines on his face. Could this be a sign from Kord? It matters not.

The sounds of raiding stop, the Half-Orc is in good condition and we all finally get a moment of rest. I, however, am plagued by dreams of Kord, after viewing the events of this past week, deeming me unworthy of his favor and casting me aside to be eaten by the dragon that destroyed my hometown. When we wake, we're lead into the tavern to eat for the first time in what feels like days and I finally have a moment to get to know my companions. Then Nighthill walks in. I'm starting to dread seeing him. It almost never ends well.

 

"I thank you for all of the things youve done last night. The deed will not go unrewarded. Certainly everyone here- this entire town owes a great debt to you all. However theres still a greater threat. I have a… request of you and though I should not be asking… You are the most able bodied individuals to have ever walked into Greenest. W'ed like to know exactly who was behind the attack and why the town was a target. The raiders retreated towards the southeast and it seems they left a… trail. I have a proposal, If you locate the raiders camp and find out certain information I'll offer to pay you 250 platnium pieces a piece. I want to know where the camp is sighted, how many raiders are there who their leaders are, whats motivating these attacks and where they plan to strike next. If you recover any valuables that were stolen from the town. I'd like for you to return them to the people. Recovering the treasure is a lesser objective." 

 

 

  • Quest Accepted: Recon
  • Group leaves the keep
  • Quest Accepted: The Lost Master
  • Group leaves Greenest
  • Encounter: Small group of Kobolds and Cultists
  • Everyone sucks at grappling
  • Group follows the path to the camps
  • Ambushed by another, larger, group of Kobolds and Cultists

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Session 3: Fire and Lighting

Not since the deathly, hot and muggy summers in Luskan had I felt such uncomfortable heat on my face and arms. As I look around and see the dark smoky skies and scattered fires charring the earth around Greenest, I can't help but feel like I've seen or heard of something like this before. Perhaps in an old story or song overheard and forgotten during a drunken night years ago.


As I look at the entrance to the building that my new companion Tibus entered a moment ago I can't help but feel an ominous churning in my gut as my instincts tell me something terrible could have happened inside. I feel unsafe, as if we are being watched but I can not quite pinpoint the source.


Looking exasperated and saying something under his breath, Woghulgat al-Woghul, a tall and dangerous Half-Orc swordsman enters the mill after Tibus. Even through the heavy smell of smoke and battle, the enticing aroma of his exotic perfumes is noticeable as it wafts past my nose as he enters the building in a bloodlust. I watch as he disappears into the shadows within. I wonder what strange and foreign tales he could contribute to my collection. As I look to my right, a mysterious figure clad in a dark face mask and leather armor slinks by. I can tell he has Elven blood flowing in his veins by the tips of his ears barely visible beneath the dark fabric covering his face. With an almost serene composure he creeps in behind Woghulgat. If it wasn't for his magical brother's fireball we wouldn't even be in this fight for our lives to begin with. I think to myself.


To my far right I see Khevrac, our elderly and mystical Dwarven companion mumbling ancient words to himself. Suddenly I see a large vine of ivy sprout from the handle of the door from my periphery. It spins and stretches as it grows up past the roof of the building to the sun. I hear a quiet, wheezy chuckle as Khevrac vanishes into the building through the door he must have just opened.


I gravitate towards him, seeking to give him aid as he attempts to flank and secure the building from the side. As I move towards the door I notice the vine of ivy is sprouting directly from the rusty lock as if a seed had been placed inside of it and nurtured to full maturity in a matter of seconds. The lock is broken open and hangs loosely from the door. As I enter the building, looking around for anything that may be of use to us or any enemies hiding in the shadows I hear the voice of our other magical companion, the Elven brother of our shadowy swordsman shout, "An ambush! From above!"


As I circle the building, my lungs burn from a thick smog seeping from the openings in the structure. Looking over my shoulder as I skirt the front door, I see Woghulgat kneeling on the ground giving aid to what looks like a fallen Tibus. Woghulgat is frantically trying to stop the bleeding on several gaping puncture wounds in the Cleric's abdomen. I turn the corner and catch a glimpse of the Half-Orc pulling the cleric to the edge of the huge cloud of fog. Again, I hear the sorcerer yell, "Get out of the building!" as I see his non-magical brother quickly exit through the front door.


Helping Woghulgat pull the bloody and unconscious cleric from the smoky building I notice that he and I are now alone on the far side of the building. "We need to regroup with the rest of the party," I say as I drag Tibus on the ground around the corner. I hear the clangs and crashes of combat as the Elven swordsman engages in a vicious melee with two armed enemies. Woghulgat rushes to his aid, striking swiftly with his blade, swinging again a deafening clang is heard as the Half-Orc's sword clashes with the steel of an enemy shield, I see him reel back slightly and grasp his ear as I avert my gaze and resume my survey of the battlefield.


As we move to reunite with our two other companions I suddenly realize that Khevrac and the Elven warrior are being assisted by Greenest Militiamen. I drag Tibus over to the guardsmen and watch as one of them pours a shimmering red potion from a glass bottle in to Tibus' mouth. The cleric rises, wounds visibly healed "You honor me." he says to the guard and in a righteous fury throws a flashing white blast of holy fire towards our foes. We manage to kill off the remaining guards and knock unconscious what appears to be their ranking member. As if he spots something of interest on the ground Khevrac bends over, supporting the small of his back with his right hand and letting out a long, shaky wheeze he inspects the earth but rises again empty handed. The masked Elven swordsman pulls a length of hemp rope from his pack and binds the hands of the unconscious enemy. With a grunt and a heave his brother, the sorcerer hoists the captive enemy leader on to his back, shouldering all of the weight himself. I am surprised, and impressed by his show of brute strength. Such physical prowess for a student of the magical arts! I think to myself. "I can't hear, I think I have gone deaf!" Woghulgat shouts. Khevrac pats the small of the Orcs back reassuringly.


The short trip back to the Greenest keep is one of quiet contemplation as we all recover from the battle and ponder what is occurring in this town. I wonder what has brought all of my new companions here at one time, I also remember my own reasons for being there. "I have a story I must tell all of you when we return, it is very important that you all hear it." I announce to the men around me. 


As we enter the keep and announce our presence to Governer Nighthill we are assisted by a cleric who gives the group some minor medical aid and with the assistance of Khevrac magically restores Woghulgat's hearing.


As soon as the prisoner is secured we, in the presence of Governor Nighthill begin to interrogate him. It is urgent that we find out more information about our new enemies and what they seek to accomplish by attacking this town and it's innocent people.  The sorcerer steps forward casting a ghostly hand of frost in front of the enemy cultist, slowly moving it to the side in a sinister gesture. "Tell us what you know!" the sorcerer demands. In return the prisoner grins and spits in the face of the Elf  "actions like that will get you nowhere." pausing, he takes a breath and continues. "We are here collecting loot for the great horde that will usher in the Queen of Dragons." Feeling fed up with the pace of the interrogation I step forward. "Do you know who I am? I am Raoul Auror, my drum is made with the flesh of enemies who I have killed with my words." I say, in anger. With a look of boredom on his face the cultists responds once again "You'll know the Queen of Dragons when she comes back."


Suddenly the Earth begins to vibrate and loud booms can be heard from outside. The air in the keep suddenly becomes humid as if a summer lighting storm was about to erupt within the old stone walls. We run out of the room as a group and instantly hear the yells of guards on the walls above, as we look towards the sky we see a huge beast covered in scales that shimmer in various hues of blue and white. As the creature hovers above the castle walls it beats it's massive wings and we see the crackling of electricity around it's eyes, nose and mouth as if it is powered from within by a devastating storm. 


As crossbow bolts and arrows fired by the guards fill the sky the creature aims it's beating wings at the keep and a massive cone of cracking blue lighting erupts forth from it destroying a huge chunk of one of the castle parapets and tossing several guards in to the air as if they were weightless. One of the guards lands in the courtyard by our feet with a dull, wet thud. His lifeless eyes look towards the sky as his broken body lies motionless encased within his now blood stained chainmail armor.. The monster attacks again, this time lunging towards another group of guards but missing and shrieking in anger.


Tibus shouts to get our attention and points to the eastern corner of the castle walls. An old ballista lies motionless and unmanned, likely unused for years. Knowing as a group that it is our obvious best option at protecting Greenest from this beast we sprint towards the entrance to the stairs leading upwards.


Suddenly I collapse to my knees, darkness closes in on me and a cold sweat begins to form on my brow. I have seen something like this happen before. Perhaps in a vision or a story? I pull myself to my feet noticing that the rest of my party has now disappeared in to the doorway ahead. I follow, feeling faint and sluggish as if I was recovering from a drunken stupor. I enter the keeps tower and begin to ascend the dimly lit staircase.


Once atop the walls we move past several guardsmen as we rush along the parapet. As I approach my companions I hear Aldar addressing a group of militiamen helping to load the ballista. Speaking with passion and urgency he says "For Greenest, we must protect OUR town, OUR city, and OUR home!" I notice the emphasis that he puts on the word our and silently praise him for his inspirational phrasing. The militia lets loose the first giant bolt from the ballista and hits the unsuspecting dragon directly in the chest, although it doesn't pierce it's scaly outer hide it shrieks in pain as if it had been burned by a hot knife. "That was a good shot! Continue making shots like that and we will win. Keep fighting, I will protect you!" Tibus tells the guards.


Moving forward with authority I suddenly remember an old tale I heard, in it the heroine used her guile and beauty to tame a ferocious dragon with a slow and exotic dance. I remember the beautiful dwarven maiden who told me the story and how she moved her body in sultry circles as she gyrated her squat, muscular hips. I channel the memories of this beautiful dance and attempt one of my own, hoping to myself to befriend this ferocious and beautiful beast of old. As I close my eyes and slowly move to a beat that only I can feel I hear the dragon huff with anger and exasperation. Suddenly before I can open my eyes I feel white hot pain course through my chest and limbs as my entire body is lifted up in to the air and slammed back down on to the cold stones. 


As I fight to remain conscious a verse from an ancient poem pops in to my head.


Through darkness creeps, when evil sleeps, dragon fire and smoke will seep.
The earth will be tainted and stained with hot blood as mankind is buried beneath freezing mud.
The age of the Dragons has once again come, the beat of the wings will silence the drum.
Tooth and claw and breath and fear will shatter shields, break bones and spears.
If brave souls don't rise to fight and take arms, the world will demise and all will be harmed.


The world goes dark as unconsciousness takes over.

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Session 2: The Ambush

Looking down the spiral stairs into the dark cellar leading to the tunnels I tighten my grasp on my book remembering where my brother and I had fallen. “It looks even darker from up here,” I think to myself. A familiar foul stench begins to fill the air as we descend down to rejoin our companions we had left behind, Woghulgat the Half-Orc and  Khevrac the Dwarf. Our feet sink into the muddy water as we enter into the tunnel. As we continue through the voices of our companions become louder and the light through the gate lights our way. When we arrive the gate is open. We step out of the tunnel into the town. Patrols of cultists and kobolds mill about the town and a stream runs east to west directly in front of us with some foliage lining the banks. Woghulgat heads back to the governor to relay our success at the tunnels and in opening the sally port.

 

We all take a rest as after he leaves. I sit down to begin reading my book. Thinking back to our last encounter I was not able to conjure any fire at one point. The rats then turned invisible. I do not know of any rats powerful enough to do such a thing and must have unleashed a much more powerful spell than I had intended on these beasts. I flip through my pages to the spell ‘FireBolt’ adding some notes along the side about my misfire spell. I then read the spell once again to be sure I had the incantation and feeling of using the spell memorized properly.

A movement catches my eye inside the tunnel while I am reading. The silhouette of a man appears in the tunnel. As he continues to walk towards the exit we all stand up in anticipation. Woghulgat emerges from the blackness and walks towards me. He reaches into his side pocket and pulls out two vials of red liquid. He hands one to me and the other to my brother and says “I think you are going to need these.” I thank him. He then looks towards the rest of the group and in his deep voice says:

The governor asked us to head towards the east to the temple. There are clerics and townspeople there currently under siege.

 

We argue which would be the best way to head towards the temple and come to the conclusion that using the foliage by the stream to stay hidden from the patrols would be the best course of action. As we approach the temple we stop at the edge of the treeline and send two ahead to scout, Woghulgat  and Tibus the human. They return and once again Woghulgat speaks to the group with conviction:

 

There are three large groups of enemies. One to the south attempting to set the temple aflame, one to the north with a battering ram, and a large patrol making a pass about every 15 minutes. I think we should take the South group first.”

His convincing demeanor and knowledge of the town leaves the group with no quarrel. Following the treeline we make our way towards the Southern group. With soft feet we approach the group from behind with Woghulgat leading the group. He looks back at us and holds up five fingers. Tibus grips his warhammer and readies his shield. Four fingers. Khevrac tightens his grip on his staff. Three fingers. I open my spellbook and hold up my hand and mechanically speak the words of magic… “n'gha shogg mg hrii …”. Two Fingers. Rolen unsheathes his short swords. One Finger. Raoul reaches for his rapier. Fist. Woghulgat rushes towards the kobolds. The group follows him into battle. A large ‘ROAR’ of a dragon is heard from inside the temple as three kobolds are cut down instantly. Turning towards the last enemies a flurry of swords, fire, warhammers, and an old man's staff cuts them down but not without losses of our own.

 

I yell.

 

Rolen was cut down by a cultist mid battle. I hastily rummage through my pack pulling out the healing potion handed to me by my companion as I run over to him. Leaning down I roll his body over and open his mouth to pour the red liquid through his lips. The wounds that line his body begin to close just enough for him to continue on.

 

Looking around I see a flicker of flame on the grassy ground and dead kobolds that are scattered near the back of the temple. I see a door and rush over to it calling towards my brother. He rushes to the door and reaches into his pack for his lock picking tools. After a quick snap of the wrist the door creeks open. Entering the temple we close the door behind us and see a small storage room full of crates and supplies. No people around, however, we see a door which presumably leads to the main temple hall. Tibus begins to move crates in front of the back door to slow down the potential patrol that will inevitably see the group we had left in the back while my brother opens the door to the main hall. The door swings open and we rush into the main hall. A frightened group of townspeople huddle near the center of the room. Books pelt the first few that enter the room until the townspeople see the familiar face of Woghulgat. He addresses the priest of the temple:

 

Eadyan Falconmoon, we are here to save you. Please…”

A large “THUD” comes from the front doors that interrupts his words. We all look at one another and cannot decide what to do.

 

THUD”, Once again the door is hit.

 

Woghulgat and Tibus rush over towards the door and place their shoulders against it to brace it from further damage.


THUD, CRACK”, Cracks form within the wood traveling upwards and bowing forwards. The doors begin to give way to the repeated immense amount of force.

 

Yelling at the townspeople and priest they move towards the back of the room as we once again ready ourselves for battle. Silence fills the room as we wait for the ram to hit once again. I look around at our companions during the silence. Scanning the room my companions look exhausted as though they had been through hell. Bandaged up and artificially healed through the power of the gods. Even so they grip their weapons as though it was their first fight. My eyes lock with my brothers and we give each other a nod. This situation is one that we are not unfamiliar with. I look towards the door once again and wait.

 

……… seconds seem like hours ……….

 

BOOM

The door flies of its hinges. Like water breaking through a levy the scaly beast humanoid like creatures begin to flood into the room. Woghulgat and Tibus place themselves in front of the flood to stop it but taking severe damage in the process. Blows are traded from one side to the other until only a few enemies remain. As Woghulgat steps to the side an image of himself is left to confuse the attackers. A muscle bound human walks forward wielding two scimitars after some of the kobolds are struck down. Slashing the wall that has been created Tibus takes severed damage and falls to the floor. A clash of steel and fire ultimately results in the fall of the enemy group.

 

“Crack, THUD”, The back door leading to the store room crashes open and another group of monsters flood into the main temple hall. The townspeople, priest, and adventurers rush out of the front door. We head for the river once again in attempt to hide from the enemies.

 

Finally we arrive at the sally port with, seemingly, with no one one our tail. We lead the group into the dark tunnels and up into the tower. We are taken into the barracks within to get some rest. The governor approaches as we are resting with a somber look on his face.

 

“Hello everyone. Please accompany me to the parapet of the keep so I can show you something.”

 

We all put our belongings away and get up to follow the governor to the top of the keep. We all climb up the stairs and reach the top. Torches illuminate patrols and encampments of the enemies as we look all around the town. The governor points out his hand towards a specific group and says:

“This woman was one of the first to lead the charge with the dragon. I would give anything to learn what we are up against. We need prisoners. Anyone that we can question.”

 

He turns around and points to another location.

 

“Sigh. I hate to say this. Raiders are attempting to set the mill afire. Can you head to the mill and defend until the forces I have gathered arrive. They should not be too far behind you.”

 

I look towards him and say

 

“Me and my brother have come here to search for information. If the town is destroyed then we can no longer attain the information we seek. We will do anything to help save it.”

 

The governor continues, “Alright, I will do anything I can to help you once this is all over with. The Mill is towards the southwest. Please go now.”

 

We head down the stairs and out the front of the keep. Following the stream we attempt to stay hidden from any patrols that may be out during the night. We stop at the edge of the treeline and once again Woghulgat scouts ahead. He comes back and says:

 

“There are some kobolds near the mill, however, they don’t seem to be attempting to set it ablaze. We should take them out as soon as possible. The governor told us to take these monsters out and that's what I intend to do. We should attack now!”

I look to the group and say:

 

“I don’t think we should attack. It is most likely a trap. The governor wanted us to protect the mill from being set ablaze but that is not what is going on here. We should warn the backup that is on its way to us now. They will be killed if they attack straight on and it’s an ambush.”

 

Raoul turns to me and attempts to persuade me by saying:

 

“I think we should attack now. We don't have time. Even if it’s an ambush we need to take them out. The backup will be here soon. Let’s lure them out to catch them off guard with our own ambush! Think of your family and the families of this town. We need to protect them.”

 

As the bard says ‘think of your family….’ I know he is referring to my brother but I cannot go without thinking of my mother as well. She was murdered by someone and we still do not know why. We need to find out. We need to purge this town of the siege so we can learn of my father's mistakes. This siege needs to end NOW.

 

I squeeze my spellbook in my left hand and then raise it up to open it. I flip the pages to the ‘FireBolt’ spell and read it once again. My right hand raises aiming directly at the kobold that is pretending to light the mill on fire. With conviction I look straight into Raoul’s eyes and say …”Dagon stell'bsna fm'latgh…” A small flame begins to form inside the right hand. I continue my spell “…geb nnnnilgh'ri…” It grows larger as I continue to recite the incantation. “…nnngoka n'gha!” A streak of flames flows from my fingertips directly towards the kobold on the outer edge of the mill. It strikes the feeble monster from behind and completely engulfes it in flames. The body flails about and then finally drops to the floor. My companions grip their weapons as they turn towards the kobolds and rush into battle. With swift strikes most of the kobolds are taken down. Two attempt to escape and only one is able to get away in time. A single kobold remains. It attempts to hide within the mill. We all approach the door and surround the kobold. Tibus walks towards it with his warhammer in hand and strikes the kobold with the hilt of his weapon in attempt to knock it out. Right as this strike lands three spears strike through Tibus. His body, still upright, is propped up by the spears. His blood streaks down the poles as he stands lifeless in front of us. The ambush has begun.

 

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