Thursday, August 19, 2010

The heights of exaltation

Egil grinned to himself as he watched the scattered remains of the jellies and spiders. Once again Kord had seen fit to reward his faith with battles to test his resolve and enemies to conquer. Noticing his comrade's uncertainty he turns to Vogir, his mind searching for an inspirational passage from the book of Kord. Then he remembers:

A coward believes he will ever live

if he keep him safe from strife:
but old age leaves him not long in peace
though spears may spare his life.

Surely the words of Kord will strengthen Vogir's resolve?

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Letters from Winterhaven (1)

I extend my greetings to you from Winterhaven, and hope this missive finds you well, if it finds you at all. The humans operating the local mail system do not show the proper level of dedication required for such an important profession. But then, they seem to fail on so many levels. Their guards are ineffective in times of trouble, absolutely oblivious to a death cult basically sitting outside their city, and their idea for survival is to run towards the next ragtag band of adventures and ask for help. But I digress ….

Daelagor, whom I have found, is well and set in his way as usual. He is still insisting to fulfill his oath, but at the same time gets distracted by random encounters on all sides. Just talking to his recently acquired entourage (I shall talk about them later, and there is much to say) has given me the impression that he has fought many battles in the last month, none of them leading any closer to the destructions of the band of our hated “cousins” responsible for the death of his mentor’s family. So, this might take a while.

As you have insisted, I shall now stay at his side, and I will do my best to usher matters towards a speedy resolution. It is my hope that we might then embark to find the foul killers, deal with them and return to our blessed homeland.

On the positive side, Daelagor’s skills seem to have improved. Especially his ability to lurk in the shadows and quickly stick blades into people was impressive. Unfortunately his knowledge of the arcane and his manners are as were, which lead to me experiencing his other abilities firsthand.

Velorien Faronion

The Pit of Despair

Looking through the gloom and filth, Vogir stands rigid. He hates the dark and the stench of the undead permeates the air.
Questioning himself for the twentieth time he asks why he’s here.
To help the (so far) ungrateful people of Winterhaven?
The gold?
Looking down at his palm, he counts out the 10gp and 2sp that they’ve each found so far.
He eyes unconsciously dart towards the exit.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

More XP and Continuity

Congratulations are in order...

After scything your way through a tribe of goblins you have all earned more XP, making a total of 2310 - enough to level up.

Alas, though, you are all still in the scary dungeon. Brave adventurers you may be, none of you seem keen to stop and rest inside!

Rather, Daelagor seems pre-occupied with a secret door he found and the rest of you are still deciding what to do with the unconscious but not-quite-dead goblin leader: Balgron the Fat.

We continue the adventure tonight where we left off last week...

(Bring a third level character in case you decide to rest up back in Winterhaven...)

A convergence of paths

During the next day Velorien returned. Cunningly, he had woven a spell that should have woken him if one of his family had left the city walls. He slept safe and sound, undisturbed by the noises of nature. But as he neared the tree he saw that the message was gone.

“How can this be,” he thought. “The message is gone, but Dealagor did not leave the city?”

He wondered if this was one of those acts of human vandalism, taking a message meant for someone else. But who would do such a thing, it seemed deeply uncivilized.

“Maybe Dealagor evaded my spell, and took the message nonetheless. But why not leave an answer? On the other hand, this would be very much like him. Careless; and his spelling was always less than perfect.”

Resigning to the fact that further contemplation might not yield additional insight Velorien decided to take action and to follow the footsteps. One of them might be Eladrin; but then his tracking was worse than Dealagors spelling.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

You've got (Tre)e-mail!

While his companions quietly examine the opposite wall with the peephole within the secret wall, Daelagors thoughts come back to the note he had found that morning.
Early last night, he had watched the stranger fix the note to the tree. In the twilight he had only been able to see a tall shape moving near the city gate and then move over to the tree about a hundred feet from Daelagors position on the other side of the path. The creature had vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Only later in the night did Daelagor climb off the tree and give away his location to check the area and find the note affixed to the tree. Intrigued, he had taken down the note and had gone back into hiding. He recognised the script and language immediately as the one used around Mithrendain where he was raised.

"We shall meet soon, my brother"

He had waited for the stranger to reappear but the next people he saw were his companions in the morning. Could it be his brother? Daelagor hadn't seen his brother since they'd split up to follow the different groups of drow. Did Corellon finally bring them back together?
But his brother wouldn't leave notes. He would just find him and surprise him as they always did when they were younger. Daelagor starts smiling when the memories returned. He had almost killed him once when his brother had jumped out of a tree to take him down and Daelagor had reacted instinctively. But if not his brother, who else could it be?

His companions started moving closer to the hole in the wall. The answer to that question would have to wait, but as soon as the current problem here is solved he has to go back to search for the stranger......

Monday, August 9, 2010

Getting closer ...

After several weeks of travel Velorien knew he was getting closer. Rumours of a shady Eladrin had led him towards the town of Winterhaven, a bastion of filth and disease. As he circled the city he came upon the body of a dead goblin. Turning the body around his mood lightened, a clear cut through both the jugular vein and the cartoid artery, the signature move of his lost cousin.

As he pressed on he came upon a battlefield; the stench of burned bodies lingered in the air. As he walked up to the pyre he was sure that something big must have died here, a huge lump of a body was still slowly charring on a bigger pile of small bodies. He looked around, but could not make out what happened here. None of the bodies appeared to be his cousin, and the site seemed to have been quite hastily abandoned after the battle, the tracks leading back to the city.

Unwilling to enter the city just yet, he pinned a note to a tree in the vicinity of the city gates and went back into the forest for a rest. Daelagor would eventually come out of this city, and he would be waiting.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Armoured bear

After putting on the hide armor and enjoying its furry look and earthy smell Rudha-an turns to Daelagor and says "It looks like I don't need to shape shift anymore. This thing makes me almost look and smell like a bear". He then broadly smiles, exposing a pair of rather disturbing looking yellow canine teeth. Without another word Rudha-an hands over his magic leather armor to Daelagor and sniffs the air coming from the hidden door. More prey he thinks and his eyes narrow.

Master of None

After a brief discussion with the newest member of their group, Vogir realises that the Druid: Rudha-an cannot actually use the recently acquired magic wand.
Despite his poor sorcerous abilities, Vogir gratefully takes it and tucks it into his leather jerkin.
Now if he can only work out a way to simultaneously use his two swords, bow, arrows AND wand in combat without spilling them all over the floor…

The wrong sound

Daelagor was just on his way back through the curtain, holding the wand he found in the chest in his left hand and dragging the chest with the gold in his right when he noticed something about the wall to his left.
Almost too fast for the eye to spot, his right hand let go of the chest and the longsword was pointing at the wall. After a closer look, it looked like the wall wasn't stone as it first appeared. He poked it with his longsword and got a wooden sound out of it.

The noises from behind him told him that Rudha-an and Vogir approached the curtain cautiously. "In here. I might have found a secret door!". The curtain is pulled back and the two companions enter. He shows Vogir the wand "You've got any use for that? And have a look at this wall! Looks like a secret passage. Better get the others!".
He turns round to Rudha-an and looks at the hide armour. "Fit's you well! What are you doing with your old leather? Mine is pretty worn by now and yours looks like it's magic?"

As Vogir looks at the chest Daelagor follows his gaze "Ah, yes, the fat goblin also left some gold for us. After a quick look I would say it's about 560 gold coins in there. Help yourself to your share!"

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Rudha-an of Rowandale

As I enter the tavern my mind wanders off to the forests of Rowandale like it usually does when I find myself in an uncomfortable situation. The tavern is loud, full of people and stinks of old ale and rebreathed air. But I have been traveling the lands for too long on my own and need to find companions which can help me to explore the nature and secrets of the evil which drove me from my homeland.

Centuries ago my family, being close to the king of our long forgotten realm, was entrusted with the wellbeing of all that lives in Rowandale and the mountains surrounding it. But the thick forests and purling streams started to fade away when I was young and an unknown evil started to gnaw on the roots of the trees my family had protected for generations. Being raised in the ways of nature I was sent out to learn more about its source and to find a cure. That was a long time ago.

My ultimate goal is to go back and reclaim what was lost. After countless years of exploring the wilderness without any result, the dangers ahead and the task at hand force me to find companions with whom I can explore these lands. A party of five, weathered and interesting looking, makes me shift back to the here and now. I ask one of the humans in the group whether I could sit down, and after he invites me to do so, I tell him my name: Rudha-an of Rowandale.

After discussing the coming plans of the party, the group is quite happy to have a guardian druid on board. I think this for me is the perfect opportunity to seek for what was long lost and help the forces of nature to gain back control over all beings. "I am the seeker. I am the stalker. I am the storm."

Have sword, will travel

The last of the outlaws fell as Egil's sword crashed down on him. A fountain of blood splattered the dry walls of the basement. Egil wiped his sword on the outlaw's cloak and sheathed it, and bent down to pick up the jeweled dagger the outlaw had been brandishing. It seems that tagging along with mysterious women in strange inns wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"I think this is what we came for?", he turned back to his companion, holding up the dagger with a winning smile.

"It is indeed", the soft voice of his companion seemed to indicate a certain amount of relief as the robed woman reached out for the dagger.

Egil pulled his hand back, his grin not faltering, "We seemed to have forgotten the small matter of my payment..."

The woman frowned, stepping back..." know I have no money, and I know you have taken an oath of celibacy to serve your god...what could I possibly offer you?"

Egil chuckled..."Don't you know that a vow of celibacy is not the same as one of chastity?"

The woman arranged her features into a sweet smile. "I see...obviously I should have paid more attention to detail. No matter, I don't think you will be in a position to take advantage of any reward in the near future."

Egil heard a sound behind him and whirled around...there was a dark shape in front of him, a sudden movement and a thud as he fell to the ground.

When he woke up, daylight was already seeping through the floorboards above him. Rubbing his bruised head, Egil stood up and walked slowly to the steps. He desperately needed a drink. He hoped he hadn't missed much.