We recently finished our Second Darkness campaign, which followed on the heels of our Savage Tide campaign. It was very enjoyable, though I liked Savage Tide a little better, and now I've decided to take a break from the APs and go with my own homebrew.
I'm using the Nentir Vale from the 4E dmg as a starting point, but I've given it a much more Norse feel. I won't be writing journals of the sessions because I don't have the time, but I will post the ones my players write and hopefully through those anyone who chooses to read this will be able to piece together the jist of the storyline.
Our party is beginning with the following characters
Darren Androsax- human, male fighter 1
Deryl Androsax- human , female sorcerer 1
Belladonna- changeling, rogue 1
Bjorn- human, male cleric of Thor 1
Torfinn, deva, male Invoker of the Aseir gods 1
The heroes begin the campaign having made their way north to Fallcrest from the city of Grimsburg. Bella is on the hunt for a killer name Randall Flagg and has tracked the man to Fallcrest.
The following is Bella's first journal. It is in the format of a letter to Victor Starke- her patron in the city of Grimsburg.
Victor,
It has been a long, and except for these last few days in Fallcrest, uneventful journey. The Androsax siblings, Derren the older brother and Deryl, his nine year old sister, have kept out of my way and for that I am grateful. I fail to understand why he has taken this child with him when the path he travels is so dangerous and though he would be more than willing to share the information I don’t ask him for it.
Initially I believed Derren to be an idiot who couldn’t get enough of hearing his own voice, but he’s proven to be quite useful. He’s an unusual fighter, surprisingly acrobatic with an extensive knowledge of history. Initially he would try to tell me things of his family line and blather on about his house and wars but lately he’s gotten the hint that I’m just not interested. He’s been a good face for our intrepid trio and seems to get along with just about anybody. In battle he can be brave to the point of foolishness. I myself witnessed him jump off the roof of a house to land upon his enemy screaming like a maniac. Although he is a capable warrior, witnessing behaviour such as this makes me worry for Deryl’s future as an orphan.
His sister Deryl I consider a liability. Every time I look at her I cannot help seeing a short fused explosive. Her tiny body is literally bursting with arcane energies of which she can barely control. These abilities are at their most potent during moments of high emotion. Thankfully she is a quiet child for her age, reserving herself to the occasional sarcastic remark. She and her brother are inseparable. Her older brother watches over her as a mother would. There is some confusion in fact over whether or not their parents are dead, Deryl insists that they are gone where as Derren insists they still live. I suspect that their parents abandoned the girl due to her curse and there may be animosity there. Perhaps my discomfort towards the child comes from my own slowly emerging powers. Though thankfully not as potent as hers, watching her gives me an idea of my own future. Being older, more disciplined and less powerful, I should be more in control of my abilities than she is. At least I hope I will be. May The All Father watch over and protect me.
As I have said before we found travel on a trading ship heading in our direction. The halflings that piloted it were a cheery bunch and thankful to have the protection that we provided even though, for this trip anyway, they had no need of it. In a brief stop over in Olsted we met with two more strangers who would later become our companions. The one, Bjorn, is a cleric of Thor, and the other, Torfinn, also wields Thor’s power but in a different way.
Of the pair, Torfinn is the more interesting. He is stoic, and after weeks trapped on a skiff with Derren I liked him immediately for his long silences. He is a bit of a mystery. He arrived as full grown man during a thunderstorm on the footsteps of Bjorn’s monastery. He speaks in whispers, and very sparingly. He is also oddly dispassionate, never showing any emotion; except for perhaps slight irritation at his traveling companion. I have also seen him in battle and it is impressive. Lightning shoots from his fingertips with barely an utterance and a mere flick of his hand. All those who worship Rao will question their faith should they see him in battle for it is plain he wields the power of Thor himself and it is great.
Last I come to the cleric, Bjorn. To put it plainly the man is a pervert. I only tolerate him because he is a cleric and as such invaluable to any company in our business. I loathe the day that I fall unconscious and am in need of his healing touch but besides his constant lewd remarks he seems harmless. On the other hand, he is far from harmless on the battlefield. I watched as he took several strikes that would have felled lesser men and he still fought. It was like watching those demonic machine men of old do battle. Although I can barely tolerate his company, he is too valuable an asset to leave.
Soon we will be embarking from Fallcrest to follow the trail of Randall Flagg. His dementia seems to be getting worse as he has caused several violent murders in this town before fleeing to the countryside. He seems to have descended into a feral state and I am concerned that it is due to an outside influence that is in his possession. We have acquired the services of an able tracker and should apprehend him soon. As usual, I will keep you apprised of our journey.
Belladonna
The Lady Nightshade
This letter is from the perspective of Darren Androsax (the fighter). It is a letter to his older brother Corvin.
Dear Corvin,
You are probably out looking for us, big brother – but we are safe. I am writing from an inn in a northern town far from Grimsburg. Outside my window, the sun has just risen and set fire to the tar of night. The ice is falling away as the river crests the cliff above town. That’s right – we entered the vale. I know you wanted to take it slow – research this, secure that – but we are heroes! We killed some flagon Orcs!
Let me explain – well, I guess I got a lot of explaining to do. When mother said those things to Deryl, and the explosion happened ... well, I just bundled her up and headed to Starke. I had to get her out of Grimsburg, you understand? When Deryl resurfaced she was so worried about what had happened. I made up something then – and maybe it was stupid – but I said that maybe mother and father simply disappeared in the dark conflagration and we had to run away.
I found Belladonna pretty quickly – Starke’s woman, the cinder-hot one who smells of machine oil – and she agreed to accompany us up north in search of Crumm’s killer. So we set out on our first adventure.
I know you are always saying we are too young – but I have gotten good with my blades and Deryl is getting more control over her dark gift by the day. You remember how great grandfather Doriolanus lied about his age to fight in the Bloodspear War? Well, maybe we are just carrying on the family tradition. You would be proud of us, I bet – we hooked up with some priests of Thor – tough, mystic men, not like those snivelling sycophants of Rao. The older one Bjorn is cool as ice – he even carved Thor’s symbol into a shrine to Rao’s saints! Torvinn, the younger one is more frosty and quiet. Makes me feel like he’s hiding something. Deryl thinks he’s alright, and I suppose he is – as long as he stays indifferent to Deryl’s big blinking eyes.
So I looked around the town we reached – and no sign of the Androsax crest so far. There are still some ruins I have to look through though. Oh, and the local ruler is named Markelhay. See if you can dig some dirt on his family in the archives. I have been pretty quiet about our royal name so far – you would be proud. Your little brother has become quite silent and suave. I’m sure our new friends think I’m at least twenty-five!
Anyway – the Orcs. Basically, they raided a dwarven caravan full of ale, and we joined a ranger to attack them at a ruined monastery. Deryl insisted she come along, and I didn’t want an arcane tantrum in front of the others, so ... well, it turned out anvil in the end. Deryl and I crept up the side of a cliff – easy stuff with our gear, and while she hid, I dropped on a mother-flagon orc chief. You should of seen it – it was dawn, our breath was white in the stillness, and I distracted the chief in my best Skanzi. I leapt, like Dorialanus did, and sliced him a good one. He got me too – you should see the scar! – and Bella had to finish the job with that crazy clockwork crossbow of hers before I got back in the fight. Bjorn and Torfinn are like Thor’s lightning and thunder – I hope they stick with us some more!
Anyway, I’m rambling again but I really wanted to say – we are doing great. And sorry, too – after what Deryl did, I had no choice. Hopefully her memory never recovers. And don’t come looking for us – we are grown up now. To show you, I am sending some gold we earned – for the funeral and repairs.
Derre
This is the first journal of Darren's sister Deryl, who is just reaching womanhood and trying to get hold of her burgeoning sorceress talents. She writes well for a nine year old. The education system in the Nentir vale is clearly quite good.
Dear Diary,
Oh, but it was nice to bathe today! Derren may not notice he wears weeks worth of dirt but travelling with only the barest of necessities has left me feeling...what exactly?...I would say saddle sore, but we travelled by ship, so I'm not sure what that's called.
Such a strange feeling walking upon land again after so long on the boats. Alas, but I am becoming used to 'strange feelings'...I do so wish to know what is happening with me. Derren, of all the family, seems unphased by the strange changes taking place. That, as you know 'dear diary' is why I so wickedly forced my company upon him; I could no longer bear the way Mama looked at me.
I do miss her though, mama I mean. Derren is sweet and protective but I'm shy to ask him about 'the change'. There is another woman travelling with us, but like the rest of our companions she mostly ignores me; she's already made it clear that I am a burden. Belladonna, such a name! and such a woman, like a heroine straight out of the novels but pretty enough to be the princess.
Bjorn is another who's made it clear that I am most unwelcome...Oh, Derren, I'm so sorry again to have put you in this uncomfortable position!...If Belladonna is the princess then surely Bjorn is the villain. He likes women much as he likes drink...cheap and in quantity. Derren thinks I don't understand but I understand only too well...Bjorn is a wicked, dirty man.
Torfinn on the other hand is just dreamy. I have never seen such a man as he. It is quite the story I find myself in 'dear diary'; we've a princess, a villain and a dashing prince from exotic lands. Why, he even seems to glow; its scary, but beautiful at the same time.
I don't really know how Derren and I fit into this story taking shape around us...of course Derren talks so much, he must be the narrator...haha! Poor, poor Derren. So proud and ever the 'noble' , despite his many times mended clothing and tattered boots. What is in a name anyway, we were happy and so much the richer for it.
Surely I'm no great player. Adventures like this aren't meant for 9 year old girls, I don't feel grown up even if my 'womanly cycles' have started. Mama says its best to be seen and not heard, and she's half right...that is to say I think now its best if I'm neither seen nor heard.
Alright 'dear diary', its time to go...I'm so excited!! Derren is taking me to a BAR !!
Personal Journal of Bjorn Thorskirk
It is good to be out in the world, I had as much contemplation as I could take. As followers of Thor we should be out in the world ensuring that the faith is strong enough to withstand the cowardly subterfuge of the southern gods. That never again shall we have to practise in secret awaiting to regain strength.
The trip to Fallcrest was quite enjoyable and uneventful. It is good to be travelling with Torfinn, someone I know I can count on, even though our paths in the service to Thor differ I feel this is a strength. As for the rest of our party Belladonna is a comely and capable lass, if a little full of herself. She is pleasing to the eye and has potential but I am not sure she has the wit or wisdom to use if effectively. I will play the letch for a while as it is an amusing diversion and will no doubt cause her and others to misjudge me. I am aware that I have neither the comely mien or slickness of tongue of others and to compensate must therefore play to expectation. I use their lack of insight to drive them where they cannot be led.
Talking of glibness of tongue brings me Darren Androsax and his sister Deryl. What is the fool, and his parents, thinking bringing a child along to such dangers as we may be facing?. Childhood is short enough and the world a brutal place, each Child should be nurtured and protected until they come to terms with their own changes before having to deal with what the greater world has to throw at them. As burgeoning with power as she may be she is not yet developed enough of body or mind to be experiencing such as we will if any other choice exists. I fear for the adult she may become in dealing with the horrors we will surely face on top of learning to properly control the powers that she obviously is developing. I fear she is a danger to both us and herself. Darren is a capable fighter, decent historian and quick of tongue. Though I feel he needs to focus more on the future and building his own legacy than the past glory of his family. He is young yet and hopefully maturity will come.
Shortly after arriving in Fallcrest we learned of a murder of a local inn owner, apparently the one responsible is someone of interest to the Androsax's and Belladonna. In the course of looking into this we found that local inns were running out of ale and that a normal Dwarven caravan was overdue.
Returning to our inn we found ourselves in the middle of a town meeting in which we learned the caravan had been attached by Orc raiders, a few hours journey from the town. This was of concern to all, as the town has still not fully recovered from the last raids. The local militia was stretched too thin to deal with the problem. At this a despicable proselytizer of Rao got up to ask the people to volunteer for the glory of his 'god' , I could not tolerate this and got up and said if justice would be done it would be through the strength of Thor that we would bring war to these retched Orcs. The support of the crowd was gratifying. Immediately two brothers, who apparently do not get along, began to form two groups to go after the Orcs. We elected to join up with Bran the younger, yet more level headed of the two. The elder headed off immediately while we elected to better prepare and head out in the morning.
The following day we set out and around midday found the site of the attack, the carnage was upsetting , I cannot imagine the effect on Deryl, a nd I am not sure if I would be more upset at her being very disturbed or not. A few of those travelling with us were ill at the sight. From there Bran was able to easily track the band back to their camp, a fortified tor in the middle of a small vale. We could easily see their watch tower from the cover of the trees and knew approaching in full light would be foolhardy. We also found Bran's brother and his group while scouting and were able to come to an agreement to work together.
It was decided that we would sneak up on the position in the dark before dawn and attach as dawn broke ñ the Orcs would most likely be in their cups and the guard the least attentive. There were also a couple breaks in the wall atop the more shear parts of the tor. Darren and Deryl would attempt to access the fort from the break and the rest of us would attack though the gate. I was hoping that Deryl would not make the climb and avoid what was coming, to no avail. As dawn broke we made our attack there was a makeshift moat rampart and palisade just inside the gate that slowed us down so I lead the charge and manged to make the firm ground which I held while others made their way. Belladona was very effective with her crossbow taking out many before they could join the fray, as was Torfinn calling upon Thor's might as was to be expected. Our enemy was varied in their abilities some being felled easily and others requiring much more effort. Of particular note was Darren who when the obvious leader of the Orcs came out made a mad dash along the roof of a building and dove into combat with the brute landing a great blow in the process. I did not see Deryl and hoped she had been put somewhere safe. My concern for the child distracted me and the enemy landed a couple of particularly painful blows requiring me to call upon the strength of Thor to see me though. A strength I would prefer to use to support others of our party. I had particular difficulty shaking off the poison from the Orc witch landed with one of those blows. In the end we were victorious. There were a few losses, but as they fell in battle I am sure they are enjoying their reward in Valhalla. Interestingly none of the losses were those of us who travelled with Bran and took the extra time to prepare. We have sent a party back to get wagons that we may better transport the remaining goods back to Fallcrest and their rightful owner the Dwarves. Apparently this was formerly a temple or monastery of Rao, which probably explains how Orcs came to take it over. I have left a suitable mark of Thor to help begin to set thing right, and shortly after we found some items that will further help us. I see the wagons return and it is time to get to work that is all for now.
Game Session #1
Here's the quick summary to fill in any holes that can't be deduced by the PC journals.
The heroes travelled north to Fallcrest in pursuit of the murderous Randall Flagg.
Backstory:
They arrived in Fallcrest and started knocking around town looking for clues. They discovered that Flagg had arrived in town a few days earlier in the company of a merchant from Diamond Lake name Belebar Smenk and several of Smenk's mercenaries. However, Flagg apparently killed a pair of prostitutes at the Lucky Gnome. He then fled back to the Inn where he'd been staying, gathered his things, broke into Belebar's room and looted Belebar's strong chest. As he was leaving the Inn he was confronted by the Innkeeper and the Innkeeper's eldest son. Flagg brutally killed both of them as well and then fled town.
Once the heroes learned of these events they stepped up their detective work. They went and spoke with the wife of the dead Innkeeper at the Cliffwatch and checked out the murder scene. They learned that Flagg had killed the pair with his bare hands and even devoured some of their flesh. The widow was terribly distraught.
Next they went to the Blue Moon tavern where they heard Smenk was hanging out. There they found Smenk and learned that Flagg had stolen a bunch of money from him. They also learned that Smenk had a mining charter for an old silver mine near Fallcrest and that he and his mercenaries were planning to go run the resident kobolds out of the mine, so that he could get it operational. Finally, the learned that after the long winter the town was desperately low on ale, and the local tavern keepers were all impatiently waiting for a shipment to arrive from the dwarven town of Hammerfast. In fact the kegs ran out while they were at the Blue Moon and that sent Smenk and his drunken men off drunk through town (causing trouble) to find another bar.
The next day they discovered that a dwarf had arrived in town with news that his caravan had been hit not far outside Fallcrest by an orc warband, and that the orcs had managed to slaughter the dwarves and steal all the ale kegs, which were the primary items being shipped. The tavern and Innkeepers got together and pooled their money for a reward and a town meeting was held. Lord Markelhay addressed the crowd and explained that with orc warbands in the area he couldn't afford to send out the militia to track down the stolen ale, but he would offer a bounty on orc ears and their was the reward for the return of the ale.
A pair of brothers, both local hunters volunteered to lead men to get back the ale. As it turned out, the brothers hated eachother and each formed their own band. The heroes decided to join up with Brand Skinner, the younger brother and help him and a couple others who joined him. The next morning they set out.
They investigated the site of the wrecked caravan and then tracked the orc band to ruined monestary up on a high rocky tor. They orcs had fortified it with a wooden watch tower and had a commanding view of the countryside. The heroes also figured there were at least 20 orcs left in the warband. In the woods nearby they found Lyle's band (Brand's despised brother) waiting for nightfall to close on the tor. The heroes decided to negotiate with them and make an alliance. Lyle and Brand were both hesitant because of their hatred for eachother, but the heroes convinced the two brothers that the orcs were too numerous and dangerous to take on independently.
In the end they joined forces, and waited until just before dawn the next day, as they figured the orcs would have been drinking all night and thus would be vulnerable. This proved to be a good assumption, for the sound of the orcs' boozing could be heard all night long.
The two human warbands made their way up the narrow trail to orcs camp and there they attacked the foul creatures. It proved to be a nasty skirmish, but thanks to the heroics and skills of the PCs most of the casualties were on the orcs side. Lyle's band lost three men.
There was some hostility between Brand and Lyle after the fight, but Lyle's band was too weak to do much, so cooler head prevailed. The ale (along with many pair of orc ears) was returned to Fallcrest and the rewards collected.
The PCs now plan to head north, for that's the direction Flagg was seen headed. They have recruited Brand to help them since he knows the local geography well, and is a capable tracker.
For those who want more info. The following is the campaign handout I sent to my players.
The Nentir Vale:
The vale is a sparsely settled frontier region in the northern portions of the former Empire of Nerath. The remains of this dead empire still dot the land in the form of ruined manors, monasteries and the like. The largest human settlement in the vale is the town of Fallcrest, which sits on the Nentir River. However, if one follows the trade road east from Fallcrest, one will reach the dwarven fortress of Hammerfast, which is said to be larger. Beyond these two locations, are several small and relatively isolated communities. There are also several ruins of note. One is the legendary ruin now known as Thunderspire. Thunderspire is said to consist of the remains of a minotaur city, and it is believed that an entire minotaur kingdom occupied much of the vale some time before it was settled by the humans of Nerath. Another storied location is Wyvernskull mountain. Wyvernskull mountain is said to be among the Cairngorm peeks northwest of the village of Winterhaven. It is believed to be the home of a warlock of tremendous power, and every now and again a brave or foolish soul makes the trek to the mountain in hopes of apprenticing him or herself to the warlock. Few of these folk have ever been seen again, and there is much speculation regarding their fate.
Fallcrest: This town is the first destination for many travelers who enter the Vale. People come to the Vale for many reasons. Many are merchants wishing to trade in Fallcrest or with the isolated communities of the Vale. Some are adventurers and mercenaries who seek riches that they believe can be plundered from the many ruins of former Nerath that dot the landscape. Others are settlers and prospectors who make their way north looking for opportunities to start a new life for themselves and their families. Opportunities abound in the vale for the brave and the bold, and the town of Fallcrest is good place to start one’s search. The actual people and places of Fallcrest will be introduced during game play.
Beyond the Vale: Though the campaign will begin in the Vale some characters may have come from beyond its borders and eventually heroes may well wish to explore the world outside the vale. If one follows the Nentir River south from Fallcrest and beyond the Witchlight fens, one will eventually arrive in the port city of Grimsburg. Grimsburg is much smaller these days than it was during the height of the Empire, but it is still a sizable city and it is the place that many of Fallcrest’s visiting merchants come from. The city is reputed to be a fetid den of vice and corruption. It has long been a haven for outcasts and practitioners of the arcane arts, and many rumors abound around its most notorious district- The Styes a place that is home to outcasts of the worst sort, and a place where corrupt arcanists perform dark rituals and conduct strange alchemical experiments. If one chooses to travel east form Fallcrest along the trade road, beyond Hammerfast and the Dawnforge mountains one will arrive in the town of Draconsburg. North of the Vale is the sprawling Winterbole Forest, which is home to tribes of human and shifter barbarians. Beyond that is frigid orc infested tagia. The tribes of the Winterbole make constant war against the orcs, for the foul humanoids are ever encroaching on their lands and cutting the trees of the forest to fuel their fires and build their homes.
Much of the knowledge of the wider world was lost with the fall of Nerath. It is known that from Grimsburg one has access to the North Sea and from there one can travel to any number of strange lands. The taverns of Grimsburg abound with strange tales of other lands, and some of them make their way to Fallcrest. Stories speak of a militant empire of hobgoblins capable of metalcraft that rivals even the dwarves. Another story tells of a sprawling nation to the far south ruled by Serpent folk, and it is said that Nerath was founded by escaped slaves from this nation. Other tales talk of an ancient land called Nubia ruled by black skinned sorcerer kings, and these are merely a small taste of the stories one might hear of the wider world.
General Character Creation Guidelines:
For this campaign use the standard character creation method presented in the player’s handbook. If you prefer to roll your stats you can if you do it in front of myself and all the other players (for our entertainment). You can freely use any of the races or classes presented below. If you wish to use something that isn’t mentioned (Jeff) then talk to me about it. You can pick powers, abilities and feats freely from the phb and phb II. You can also choose powers from other sources, but if I see anything that looks too broken I reserve the right to nix it or work out a change that will make it work. Finally, I’m okay with using the background rules presented in the phb II. If you see a background that you like you can use it. I’m considering doing a bit of modification to the Skills- mostly filling in a few gaps (In particular, I miss the ride and perform skill), but nothing too crazy. Let me know if you have suggestions in that regard.
Races:
Humans: Humans are the dominant race in the region, and most of the people of Fallcrest are human. Only two ethnicities are normally found in the vale. The first is the Skanzi peoples. The Skanzi are a Nordic people who have lived in the north for centuries. They tend to be tall with fair hair and fair skin. The great jarls of old that lived in the vale before the rise of the empire were all Skanzi who venerated the Aesir gods. As the empire of Nerath expanded northward, the Nerathni people moved into the region. The Nerathni tend of have dark hair and swarthier complexions than the Skanzi and are more likely to be followers of Rao the sun god. These two people have lived among one another in the vale for several centuries now and there has been much mixing between the two groups, and it can often be hard to distinguish between the two. However, it is not uncommon to see an individual that is clearly of Nerathni or Skanzi stock. In the vale the Skanzi are the more common of the two groups.
Dwarves: Some dwarves make their home in Fallcrest. Most dwarves found in the vale originate from the stronghold of Hammerfast, and they frequently trade with humans in the vale. The dwarves of the region worship the Aesir gods.
Elves: Though few elves call Fallcrest home, several bands of nomadic elves can be found hunting and gathering in the Harken Forest in the southern section of the Vale, and they occasionally travel beyond its borders. Most elves venerate the Vanir gods and/or the primal spirits of the land.
Halflings: Many Halflings live among the urban human settlements particularly in Grimsburg, and they are relatively common in the vale even though they have no communities of their own in the region. They are the most common demihumans in Fallcrest. Most halfings in the region worship the Aesir gods or Rao.
Eladrin: Eladrin are not common in the vale. South of the Harken Forest is a small settlement called Moonstair. It is known to have an ancient portal that leads to the Feywild and several eladrin call this village home. Sailors in Grimsburg also speak of a mist shrouded island that sometimes appears in the North Sea. The island is said to host a city or possibly even kingdom of eladrin. Most eladrin worship the Vanir gods. It is said the gnome clans living in the Harken wood know of secret ways to reach the Feywild through the forest, which could provide another means of accessing eladrin lands.
Half Elves: A small number of half elves reside in Fallcrest or the vicinity. Most are well off farmers or herders living near the town; others are expert artisans in the town. Some are the result of the union of humans and elves from the Harken Forest. Others come from Grimsburg, where nearly any race can be found.
Tieflings: Grimsburg has the largest population of Tieflings in the region and the odd one makes his or her way into the vale from this city. They tend to be looked on with suspicion. Tieflings orginate from the fallen empire of Bhael Turath. Bhael Turath is across the Sunset Sea, west of what was once Nerath (and prior to that Arkohsia). At its best it was a mighty human nation that was allied with Arkohsia, and together the two nations battled Summaria in the east, the Serpent Nations to the south and the various hordes of to the north. Eventually Bhael Turath fell sway to the powers of Hell, and turned against Arkohsia, and in their ensuing wars they destroyed one another. Bhael Turath is now a vast wilderness speckled with the shattered, devil haunted remains of its cities and settlements. Expeditions from more civilized land frequently journey there in search of plunder among its many ruins, and more than one tiefling dreams of reestablishing this fallen empire. A few tieflings still serve the powers of Hell, but many have converted to the common faiths of the region such as worship of the Aesir gods or Rao.
Dragonborn: Most Dragonborn come from lands to the south of the North Sea, usually arriving in Grimsburg and making their way north from there. Long before the rise of Nerath the bulk of the land that became that nation was once the legendary draconic empire of Arkohsia. It was said to have been ruled by dragonborn and metallic dragons that served the god Bahamut. Arkohsia flourished for centuries, but its doom was inevitable, for it was forever besieged by enemies on all sides. To the east was a terrible enemy in the form of the mighty empire of Summaria. Summaria was another nation of dragonborn, but one devoted to Tiamat, and the two nations were constantly locked in war. To Arkohsia’s north was savage wilderness, lands home to tribes of wild humans, orcs, shifters, ogres, giants and other creatures who raided their lands at every opportunity. In the west they had an ally in the human nation of Bhael Turath, but eventually that nation fell sway to rulers of Hell and turned against the noble dragonborn of Arkohsia. To make matters worse, more enemies were in the south in the form of the mighty Serpent Kingdoms. Thus, it was just a matter of time before Arkohsia fell. However, the noble empire did not go down without a fight, and it brought with it the nations of Summaria and Bhael Turath. For the next several centuries the lands that once housed these empires sunk into a turbulent age of darkness. Finally the empire of Nerath arose in Arkohsia’s place when Amra led his army of freed slaves across the Sea of Scales to escape the Serpent Kingdoms. Order was gradually restored and over time the Empire expanded ever northward. The remaining clans of the dragonborn integrated themselves into the new human empire, and to this day the scions of fallen Arkohsia still dwell in the lands that their ancestors once ruled. Most dragonborn still devote themselves to Bahamut.
Shifters: There are several tribes of this ancient race dwelling in the Winterbole forest, and they sometimes trade pelts and amber for metal and cloth with the humans of the vale. Shifters tend be primal, and most clans venerate powerful nature spirits rather than the gods.
Half Orcs: Orcs are a common threat to the Vale, and as a result, half orcs are not unheard of in the vale, though they are often looked on with suspicion and fear. The Aesir gods tend to appeal to half orcs, but some worship the primal spirits of the land.
Goliaths: It is said that a few tribes of Goliath live in the Dawnforge mountains. They are fairly reclusive, but occasionally trade with the dwarves or people of the vale. They usually venerate the spirits of their mountain homes, and few Goliaths pray to any god.
Gnomes: Several clans of gnomes make their homes in the Harkenwood in the Nentir Vale, but they generally maintain a low profile. They do interact with the elf clans of the forest, and it is said that they know the locations of secret magical crossroads that lead to the Feywild. On occasion a wanderlust stricken gnome will leave the Harken wood to explore the vale and the wider world. Gnomes sometimes worship nature spirits, but often pay homage to their mysterious fey trickster god, whose name they don’t share with outsiders.
Devas: There are currently no known Devas in the vale for they are rare individuals. Devas are most commonly known to serve Rao or Bahamut. On rare occasions a Deva may be found that serves the Aesir gods.
Hobgoblins: In the north most tribes of hobgoblins are fairly barbaric and aggressive. In the far southeast, there is said to be a vast empire of hobgoblins. These hobgoblins are known to be great civilization builders, and though they are aggressive and warlike, they also have merchants and mercenaries who travel far and wide to trade with and sell their services to other cultures of the known world. Few southern hobgoblins ever make it as far north as the Nentir Vale, but they certainly visit Grimsburg on occasion, and it is said that a large company of hobgoblin mercenaries helped defend the vale from orcs during the Bloodspear war. Most hobgoblins worship Tiamat.
Warforged: Are extremely rare in the north, and their existence is unknown to folk of the vale. Warforged were originally created by the humans of Bhael Turath for use in the defense of their nation. These living constructs were put to great use in the wars against the dragonborn empire of Arkhosia and they were destroyed by the thousands during the wars. After the fall of Bhael Turath knowledge of their creation was lost to the world. However, it is said that savage tribes of warforged still haunt the wilderness and ruined cities that was once Bhael Turath. Since the fall of Nerath there has been a renewed interest in things arcane, and mages in places such has Grimsburg have sent expeditions to Bhael Turath with the task of bringing back a warforged for study, in hopes that the secret of their creation can be unlocked.
Changelings: Most people have heard stories of this enigmatic race, but because of their ability to disguise themselves as members of other races, few folk have any idea as to how many of them exist in the world. They could be anywhere or anyone.
Martial Classes:
All martial classes are common throughout the north. Warlords and fighters usually wear chain or scale male. They often carry shields. Most fighters and warlords in the north use javelins or occasionally short bows for ranged weapons. Rangers, elves and occasionally shifters and eladrin are among the few folk who have mastered the longbow. Rogues usually use short swords or daggers, as rapiers do not exist in this world.
Magic and Arcane Classes:
Magic Items are highly prized in the north. They are rarely available to buy in rural areas, and must usually be discovered (send me your wishlists). Occasionally a magic item may be for sale in a place like Fallcrest, and certainly there are wizards and priests in places like Grimsburg who can create magic items and may have the odd one for sale.
Though the world is a magical place (about the same level of magic as a typical dnd world), spellcasters are fairly rare in the north, and sometimes looked on with fear and suspicion especially in rural areas. Magic is more common in urban areas and the far south. Many stories of powerful practitioners of magic come from the near mythical serpent kingdoms, and the Nubian sorcerer kings. During the rule of the empire of Nerath the practice of arcane magic was banned, for the clergy of Rao associated the arcane arts with the evil of the serpent kingdoms and believed that arcane energies corrupted the soul. Over the centuries much arcane learning was lost; thousands of tomes, spell books, scrolls and other implements of the art were all burned and destroyed. During this imperial magic prohibition many arcane casters were driven to the northern reaches of the empire where traditions of arcane magic had existed for centuries and where the clergy of Rao had the least sway over the populace. Grimsburg became a haven for magic users, and places like Fenmark in the east have boasted talented spellcaster since before the rise of Nerath. Since the fall of the empire the art has slowly gained wider acceptance, but practitioners of magic still tend to be distrusted by followers of Rao.
Wizards: Wizards are rare in the vale, but Grimsburg is a haven for them. During the magic prohibition practitioners of the art were driven to the edges of the empire, and many made there way north. Grimsburg thrived as a place where outcasts of the empire could find a home for themselves, and many of those outcasts were wizards. Few have much interest in venturing into the vale, but some come looking for rare ritual components, ruins to explore or an isolated place to conduct their research. Wizards are believed to be much more common in the nations to the south. Wizards in the north often pay tribute to Odin.
Warlocks: Similar to wizards, many can be found in Grimsburg. Warlocks were even more distrusted than wizards during the prohibition and many were burned at the stake, as they were condemned as being evil by the clergy of Rao. In the vale there is one warlock of legend- the Warlock of Wyvernspur mountain. This warlock is an enigmatic figure, and his name comes up late at night in the taverns of Fallcrest. He is believed to be a Star Pact warlock and over the years several would be apprentices have made their way from Fallcrest or Grimsburg to his lair. Few have ever been seen again.
Sorcerers: Like warlocks and wizards, sorcerers are rare in the vale, but can be found in Grimsburg. It is believed that the most powerful sorcerers in the world are the Nubian sorcerer kings, but the nature of their magic is more based on myth and legend than fact.
Bards: Prior to the rise of Nerath that north had a great tradition of music, song and story, and its bards were known as skalds. Since the fall of the empire this tradition has gradually been regaining popularity, and bards are generally welcomed in the vale and the taverns of Fallcrest. Bards in the north often pay tribute to Balder or Odin.
Swordmages: The swordmage tradition is an ancient one. It is still practiced among the eladrin, but rarely seen elsewhere, and the eladrin keep the secrets of this tradition close. It was once practiced among the humans of Bhael Turath, and the dragonborn of Arkhosia. Both races are said to still have secret monasteries where they will teach suitable members of their races this skill. There are also rumors that the hobgoblins of the south have knowledge of this art and have trained some of their warriors in it.
Artificers: Artificers are rare in the vale and the world in general. Dwarves and gnomes are the most common practitioners of this arcane art, and they don’t like to share their secrets. Certainly there are some artificers in Hammerfast, and a few in Grimsburg. It is said that the humans and tieflings of Bhael Turath had skilled artificers for they created the warforged race. However most of their learning in this art was lost long ago when that empire fell.
Religion and Divine Classes:
Religion: The region has a long polytheistic tradition. However, that tradition was stifled during the rule of the Empire of Nerath, a nation founded by escaped slaves from the Serpent Kingdoms. These former slaves were led to freedom by their great prophet Amra, and they were devout worshippers of the sun god Rao. During this imperial age, Rao’s priests banned the worship of all other gods. As the empire expanded and subjugated northern lands they converted many “savage” human tribes and clans to their faith. These people turned their backs on the spirits and their traditional gods- known as the Aesir. These however, were powerful and aggressive deities, and they did not like loosing their worshipers or seeing the Sun God gain such great power. Odur, the Aesir god of the sun, was particularly angry, and he and Rao did battle. Rao was the stronger of the two gods and defeated Odur. He absorbed the god’s power, and as punishment for daring to attack him Rao was said to have cast Odur down to earth in the form of a mortal. Still, Rao’s actions did nothing but further arouse the wrath of the Aesir. The Aesir still had many followers in the wilder parts of the north. Many were human, but many more were humanoids or giants. They descended upon the empire in all their fury, and after many years of warfare the power of the empire was shattered. In the years that have passed since the empire has fallen, many have returned to worship of the Aesir and Vanir. In the heart of the old empire the faith of Rao is still strong, and the sun god seeks to regain the power and worshippers he has lost. His priests still consider him the one true god and give no recognition to other gods.
The following are Gods that are commonly known of and worshipped in the north. Many other gods exist, but little is known of them in this part of the world:
Non Aesir Gods: The world is a place of many gods. The following are the non Aesir gods that might be venerated in Nerath.
Rao (Alignment: Good, Favored Weapon: mace, Portfolio: Sun, Creation, Summer, Healing, Domains: hope, life, sun, protection) Though Rao has lost much of his power since the fall of Nerath, he still has many followers and his priests seek to win back the followers they have lost by doing good and being kind and generous. Their clergy had become corrupt during the height of the empire, drunk on their own power and wealth. They have expunged as much of that corruption as possible from their church, though it still lingers in the former heart of the empire. The priests of the north generally have a reputation for being good, brave souls who fight against the dark forces that threaten civilization. However, some folk despise them because their faith is one of monotheism and does not allow its worshippers to acknowledge other gods. Despite the monotheistic nature of his religion, he has many saints that are said to be mortals that he elevated to divine status. It is considered acceptable for worshippers of Rao to pray to these saints and use them as intercessors between the mortal and spiritual world. Followers of Rao disapprove of arcane magic and are forbidden from practicing it. During the imperial age its practice was banned by the clergy. Priests of Rao generally wear robes of white, yellow and gold during ceremonies. They shave their heads and paint wear or paint a small gold circle on their foreheads that symbolizes the sun. When traveling they wear dark robes that won’t show the dirt of the road. Though they preach a doctrine of peace, they will fight against forces they believe to be evil. When they do so they will wear armor and usually fight with a bludgeoning weapon.
Saint Amra the prophet (Good) Exarch of Rao. Amra was once a mortal, and it is said that Amra freed those slaves who worshipped Rao from enslavement to the serpent lords and their evil gods. He was granted immortality and divine power by the sun god, and many pay homage to him as an intercessor between them and Rao, for he is thought of as Rao’s most favored servant. However, he is not a true god as of yet.
Bahamut (Alignment: Lawful Good, Favored Weapon: greatsword, Portfolio:, Domains: hope, justice, protection) Bahamut is usually only worshipped by dragonborn, though the dragonborn have inspired a the odd member of another race to pay homage to this ancient deity.
Corellon (Alignment: Good, Favored Weapon: long sword, Portfolio: spring, beauty, art, magic, fey, Domains: arcane, skill, wilderness) Corellon is the patron god of eladrin and fey. He is not often worshipped by men in the north, but he is revered by eladrin, elves and sometimes gnomes.
The Aesir: Is one of the ancient races gods worshipped in the north before the rise of Nerath. They are commonly worshipped among humans and dwarves and sometimes humanoids. Halflings and Elves often pay respects to Frey and Freya. The Aesir tend to be aggressive and warlike deities prone to violence.
Odin (Alignment: Good, Favored weapon: spear, Portfolio: knowledge, magic, creation, war, Domains: arcane, creation, knowledge, war) Odin is the leader of Aesir and a master of magic. It is said that he sometimes travels the world as an old wizard or sage. He is wise and does not anger easily, but when he does anger his wrath is greater than any of the other Aesir. He is the patron god of many wizards in the north.
Thor (Alignment: Unaligned, Favored Weapon: warhammer, Portfolio: Storms, thunder, war, Domains: storm, strength, war) Thor is one of Odin’s sun, and commonly worshipped by human and dwarven warriors of the north. He may be the most commonly prayed to god of all the Aesir, for the north is a violent place and many have need of his strength. He is the patron god of many fighters in north.
Heimdall (Alignment: Lawful Good, Favored Weapon: longsword, Portfolio: watchfulness, sight, hearing, vigilance, Domains: protection, strength, war) Heimdall is a guardian god. He defends the gates to Asgard, and he is always ready to warn of the gods of the coming of Ragnarok. He prayed to by all those asked to stand guard, and he one of the few Aesir gods who is commonly revered by paladins.
Tyr (Alignment: Unaligned, Favored Weapon: longsword, Portfolio: courage, trust, strategy, tactics, writing, Domains: justice, protection, knowledge) Tyr is a war god, but one who believes in sound tactics and cunning strategies over brute strength. He is also a god of courage, and he is prayed to by warriors throughout the north. He is the patron of warlords.
Balder (Alignment: Good, Favored Weapon: greatsword, Portfolio: beauty, music, poetry, rebirth, Domains: skill, love, creation) Balder is one of Odin’s sons. He is prayed to by artisans and performers, and is a patron of bards.
Loki (Alignment: Evil, Favored Weapon: dagger, Portfolio: mischief, trickery, Domains: trickery, torment) Loki is an evil trickster god, and his worship is forbidden in the north.
Njord: (Alignment: Unaligned, Favored Weapon: spear, Portfolio: commerce, sea, wind, Domains: sea, storm, luck) Is a sea god, but also a god of commerce and sea trade. Traders plying the rough waters of the North Sea pray to him for safe and prosperous journeys.
Frey: (Alignment: Good, Favored Weapon: Great sword, Portfolio: Agriculture, Fertility, Domains: life, freedom, love) Frey twin brother of Freya and son of Njord. Men often pray to Frey for sexual prowess before bedding a woman.
Freya: (Alignment: Good, Favored Weapon: long sword, Portfolio: Fertility, love, vanity, Domains: love, life, trickery) Freya is the twin sister of Frey and son of Njord. Though she is a goddess of love and fertility she is also known to have a streak of mischief in her. Most of her worshippers are female, and she is often prayed to during pregnancy and birth, as well as by new lovers.
Uller: (Alignment: Unaligned, Favored Weapon: long bow, Portfolio: archery, hunting, winter. Domains: Skill, Wilderness, Winter) Uller is the son of Thor and Sif. He is a master archer and huntsman, as well as a skilled warrior. He is the patron of hunter and rangers in the north.
Other Aesir Gods: Sif (daughter of Thor), Forsetti (God of Justice, son of Balder), Frigga (Wife of Odin, Fertility goddess), Hermod (son of Odin, messenger of the gods)
Clerics: Clerics are fairly common in the north. Traveling priests of Rao frequently wander the region in an attempt to revitalize faith in the sun god and recover lost shrines are relics. Priests dedicated to the Aesir and Vanir gods are the most prevalent in the vale, and most of these priests devout themselves to the entire pantheon instead of an individual god, but they usual have one god that they have a particularly special connection with. Races such as, humans, dwarves, and halfings usually pray to the Aesir gods, and races such as, eladrin, gnomes and elves more commonly worship the Vanir gods.
Avengers: During the days of the empire of Nerath there were many orders of Avengers in the service of the clergy of Rao. Many of those orders have vanished since the fall of the empire, and avengers are quite rare in the north. Few avengers serve the Aesir or Vanir.
Paladins: Most paladins are humans devoted to Rao or Dragonborn devoted to Bahamut. Few paladins exist in the service of the Aesir or Vanir gods, and paladins are quite rare in the north. During the days of Nerath there were many orders of paladins in the service of Rao.
Invokers: Invokers are rare in mysterious individuals with diverse origins. They are not common in the north or the known world. Yet virtually all the gods have at some point given certain chosen mortals small shards of their power, thus allowing them to become invokers. Some stories say that the great prophet Amra was imbued directly with Rao’s power and was an invoker of tremendous power. It is also said that when Nerath fell the angry Aesir gave many mortals small portions of their power to use against Nerath and the clergy of Rao.
Primal Classes:
Barbarians: Barbarians are common among the human and shifter clans of the Winterbole forest in the northern reaches of the vale. The goliath clans of the Dawnforge mountains also boast these elite warriors.
Druids: Druids are fairly rare in the vale. Some of the shifter tribes boast druids who have sought to further develop their natural shifting abilities, and there may be the odd druid among the other tribes of the region. Most druids venerate the spirits of the world and have little interest in the gods of the astral sea.
Shamans: Among the tribes of Winterbole and the Goliath clans, shamans are the primary religious leaders and act as the spiritual guides of these people. The elves of the Harken wood also have Shamans among them. Shamans derive their powers from the spirits, but many also have some knowledge of the gods and some also pay respects to the Vanir gods, as they are closely linked to nature.
Wardens: A few individuals in the vale are Wardens. Like the other primal classes, most are either Shifters or humans from the Winterbole forest, Goliaths from the Dawnforge mountains or elves from the Harken wood. They tend to share the religious beliefs of their tribe. Wardens have a greater to tendency to leave their tribes to wander the vale, for they bear the responsibility of defending nature itself, not just their tribe.
Weapons and Equipment:
After the fall of Nerath the dead empire descended into a dark age that it is arguably just starting to come out of. As a result, dwarves and eladrin forge the best weapons and armor in the north. Leather, Hide, Chain mail, and scale mail are the most common types of armor to be found. Shields are common, and are usually made from willow board. Most melee weapons in the phb can be found, though swords, axes, spears, maces and warhammers are the most common. The rapier has yet to be invented and is not available.
Ranged weapons are also more rare than usual. Elves and occasionally shifters, eladrin or half elves are the only races commonly known to use longbows and actually trained in their use. Dwarves use crossbows regularly, but the humans of the region tend to only be trained to use javelins and/or shortbows.
Currency:
Gold, Silver and Copper coins minted during the empire of Nerath are the prime currency in the vale. These coins are easily recognized by the sunburst stamp on one side and a image of a saint on the back. The gold piece has the image of Amra the prophet. All coins are said to have been blessed by a priest of Rao when they were minted, and clerics of Rao have been known to use a gold coin as a holy symbol in an emergency. The dwarves of Hammerfast mint their own silver coins, and these are also common in the vale. Dwarven silvers are easily recognized because they are square in shape and have hole punched through the middle. Dwarven merchants string a leather cord through their coins to and tie them around their waists. Occasionally coins from ancient Arkhosia or Bhael Turath can be found, but these are rare. In the days before the empire it is said that the Skanzi jarls of old would wear silver armbands and cut off chunks of silver to give to their followers for their services. This tradition never fully vanished from the north, and it has seen a resurgence in the years since the empire’s fall.
Languages:
Prior to the rise of Nerath, the skanzi people of the vale spoke their own tongue, which was a dialect of the giant tongue mixed with a little bit of dwarven. During the days of the empire, the Nerathni people and in particular the clergy of Rao forced them to learn the Nerathni language (a dialect of common). These days the Nerathni tongue is more commonly spoken, but many folk, particularly those of Skanzi stalk, still speak their traditional language, which is essentially giant.
Brief Timeline (Nerathi Calendar):
0 C.E – Amra leads his followers to freedom across the Sea of Scales into the remains of Arkhosia and thus beginning the rise of humans in the region and the founding of what will be known as the Empire of Nerath.
620 C.E.- Nerath is at the height of its power, and sages believe that this is the year that Roa defeated the Aesir sun god Odur and stripped him of his divine power. The Aesir began their war against Rao and his clergy.
621-682 C.E.- These years were years of a war known as the War of Retribution, and it was during this war that the Aesir sent waves of enemies against the empire, until finally it was a shadow of its former self. Priests of the Aesir claim that around this time Odin declared an end to the war of retribution against Rao.
668 C.E.- This is the year of the event known in the Nentir Vale as the Bloodspear war. It was a year when a great horde of orcs led by the Bloodspear tribe descended into the vale to plunder and pillage. In truth, this was probably just one of the many ongoing wars that made up the War of Retribution, but the people in the vale don’t tend to look at it this way, for they don’t wish to think their own gods might have sent the horde against them. In any event this war shattered the empire’s hold over the vale, and resulted in the people of the vale returning to more traditional ways that existed before they were part of the empire.
693- present - The end of the War of Retribution marked the beginning of the years of Chaos as inhabitants of the once great empire strive to survive in a much more hostile and dangerous world.
720 C.E.- The present year.
Bella's second journal. Summarizing game session #2
Victor,
The hunt goes frustratingly slow and is mostly hindered by my companion’s altruism. Flagg is now four days ahead of us and is traveling on foot. I found this strange until I tried to procure some horses to cut his lead; there were none that anyone would sell.
Flagg is making his way northwest and we followed his trail to Winterhaven, he’s been gathering people for some kind of exhibition. Personally I would have preferred keeping after our quarry, however the people of Winterhaven were in dire need of assistance. Orc tribes were gathering to overrun their town. My “friends” decided to stay, and as I cannot continue the hunt alone my decision was made for me.
Seeing as we were going to waste the day here I could not be idle. The local blacksmith welcomed me into his shop and did not seem the least bit surprised that a woman knew her way around a forge. It was refreshing. My other contribution was no less rewarding. I had some of the men dig a large pit outside the main gate, and I directed them in how to disguise it. We may never know, but it may have been this simple trap that saved the day in the end.
As we busily prepared for the night, great cheers went up in the afternoon as re-enforcements arrived in the form of Ragnar Thorgallson and six of his skanzi warriors. On our way here we had a brief stop over at a barbarian homestead watched over by a man named Ragnar. Derren had a pleasant surprise in seeing that the short sword that Ragnar carried bore his family crest. Although I only had a brief glimpses of it (the boy covets it more than he does his sister) and it seems to be good work. The chief of the barbarians told us that he had won it as a prize in a drinking contest between him and the hero Sigard Ironballs. Darren, the young noble challenged Ragnar for the sword. The chief did not seem eager to let it go, but could not deny the boy a chance for a piece of his heritage. In truth I feel that the fact that the man felt more comfortable with the axe he had nearby than the sword at his side that made his decision. As the young noble was already drunk (the boy cannot handle his drink) they decided to arm wrestle for it. It was a fierce competition, and although in the beginning I thought Derren would surely lose, he came through and slammed the surprised chief’s hand upon the table. With that the boy had not only won the sword but also the respect of these barbarians. So when Winterhaven sent out a call for aid, these warriors came swiftly. What they lacked in finesse and tactics they made up for in prowess and strength. There was much excited talk in seeing the Androsax boy and although he is young, it was clear that the noble blood in his veins had a kind of intoxicating effect on them, where the man led, they would follow.
As night descended it became clear how foolhardy this venture was. I quietly cursed my soft hearted companions for ever getting me into this mess as I watched hundreds of orcs surround the walls. With the disappearance of the last ray of the sun they made a mad rush to the walls, and I was able to kill many. Most of the defenders lacked my skill with a bow or did not even possess such weapons, so it was my responsibility to ensure that they could not set off the trap by the front gate pre-maturely.
The plan worked beautifully. The orcs eventually charged up the road carrying a large ram and under a crude shelter of shields to protect them from our arrows. We harassed them with several shots making them run recklessly forward and straight into the covered pit. They became a tangled mess at the front gates. With only a few exceptions the threat had been neutralized from the outside.
Our group made good work of keeping the orcs from cresting the walls. I have heard many men speak afterwards of how Bjorn and Derren grasped one of the ladders the orcs were using and pulled it away from them, taking a single soldier up. After Bjorn let go of the ladder to fight the orc Derren (perhaps making a clumsy fall look like a daring maneuver) fell backwards and tumbled to the ground gaining his footing and quickly dispatching the dumbfounded enemy.
Unfortunately the rest of our troops were not as resourceful. Several enemy warriors were able to enter the fort and all of them had only one goal in mind; open the gate and allow the mass outside to rush in like a tide of death. My position compromised, and seeing the enemy closing in on me I leapt down from the wall and quickly wrapped my injured body in a cloak of shadow. From the darkness I brought death to any who merely thought they could open the gate.
And finally it was over.
From what we’ve been told the orcs have decided that Winterhaven is too much trouble for them and have moved on. I am hopeful that we will be moving on as well before the trail grows too cold to follow.
Lady Nightshade
Darren Androsax's (the fighter) second journal (regarding game session #2)
Dear Corvin,
I have made such progress, brother – you would be so proud! I am writing from a smaller town in the vale – a scrub of spring weed surrounded by marauding orc bands. But before I tell you about our heroism and adventure – let me describe two deeply intriguing family connexions.
I may have mentioned the religious scrolls we found in the orc-infested abandoned monastery. They had woodcuts by the artist Albrecht Dix – one of them depicting a man in a tabard of Rao, sword in hand and battling ogres. None other than a Saint Aurielus Androsax! Could this be our great, great grandfather? I knew that our family took on the Nerathi faith after the war – but I had no idea how deep our reverence for the sun god truly ran.
A second connexion I am much less conflicted about. We made our way northwest in pursuit of the devil-tainted Flagg, whose feats of strength and savagery grow worse with each sighting. On our journey we met a local lord named Ragnar. He had a short-sword at his belt bearing our family crest – the man, full seven feet of Skanzi warrior, had won it in a drinking contest from a local explorer and hero named Sigurd Ironballs – said to hold up in Hammerfast when he isn’t exploring ruins in the vale. With a little of the Androsax courage (three pints of it, by then) I challenged him to a competition for the sword, and he agreed. We locked arms, and I would have lost but for some ill that spread across the lord’s face– but my determination to live up to our great ancestors prevailed – and now the sword is mine! I mean ours!
While pursuing Flagg, we came across frightened refugees, a battle field of Orc corpses (from the Bleeding Skulls tribe, I suspect) and some farmsteads under attack. We fought the flea-bitten savages and were victorious yet again- but were too late to save some stubborn stay-behinds and the Rao priest and templar sent to protect them. Have you heard of the Sun Templars? A southern order of Rao, its men wielding curved, jewelled swords and great, piercing devotion.
Corvin, do you even wonder if the Androsaxes were meant to be followers of Rao? I wonder sometimes if the light of the sun is calling to me. Of course, Bjorn and Torfinn are living proof that the old gods are worth following. But no matter, we gained access to the village of Winterhaven and helped prepare it for an even greater orc onslaught. At each turn, I made sure Deryl was utterly safe before engaging with our foes. Our little sister was well-behaved as always, and I think our companions are becoming rather protective of her. Bella had taken her for an afternoon to the local forge, and even Torfinn, who I realize now is above worldly desires, seems to tolerate her hanging company and sighing admirations.
In the night, the orcs came fierce and from many directions – but we fought them back like Trimenous at the Three Gates during the first tide of the Bloodspear War. I think Bella felled three score of them before they even reached the gate. If that woman pursued seduction the way she pursues killing, no men would be left standing in all the Northlands. Bjorn and I hoisted a ladder full of the grey brutes, and Deryl managed to assist Torfinn as he blasted them with arcs channelled from the thunder god himself. It was glorious. The dawn broke through the horde and I understood something of our legacy. I was made for this. Though it hurt us greatly to leave Grimsburg, and you in the smoking aftermath ... I did not regret it this day. This day we did good, by laying evil unto the orcish infidel.
Your brother Derren
The game session #2 journal of Bjorn Thorskirk (cleric of Thor)
Returning from the vale victorious was very gratifying. Our efforts were rewarded both monetarily and with the offer of a celebratory feast, as well as an invitation to escort the good dwarves home to Hammerfast. Alas our hunt for Flagg takes precedent. I could see the delay had upset Bella as it was. Using Bran's local knowledge and tracking ability, we proceeded to pick up Flagg's already cold trail. Fortunately, the spring waters limited the crossing points of the Nentir river, and we soon found where he had stolen a small boat to cross. It was likely good we had Bran along, as the locals would probably not been as forthcoming with information about our quarry.
We crossed over and picked up the most likely trail. We continued on, following the trade road northwest until it looked like night was soon to fall, and with the increased orc activity, it was deemed best to seek shelter for the night at the steading of a local war chief named Ragnar. This was fortuitous indeed, for there we learned that Flagg had indeed come this way and that he was no longer alone, as he had taken five of Ragnar’s men with him after besting Ragnar in a wrestling match.
While feasting in Ragnar's hall, Derren noticed a short sword that Ragnar had bearing the Androsax crest, and he prevailed upon Ragnar to wager it in an arm wrestling contest. The contest was very entertaining for the combatants were so closely matched. I am sure Bella's attempt at distraction did not harm the outcome and was enjoyed by many as well. It is good to see her using her “talents” to good effect; there is hope for her yet.
The following morning we set out, again Bella attempted, to no avail, to convince Ragnar to sell some horses in order to speed up out pursuit of Flagg, who we learned was proceeding on foot.
We continued to follow the road to Winterhaven. As we approached the settlement we came across an outlying farm where an obvious orc attack was occuring. We moved into combat, Deryl taking shelter on the other side of a small stream. Bella and Bran made good use of their bows while Darren myself and Torfinn moved into melee combat. The battle was intense and the enemy many but we eventually prevailed. Unfortunately, we were too late to save those the orcs had taken earlier. Among the dead we found a priest and templar of Rao; their courage could not be denied in coming to the aid of these farm folk, though I question their wisdom in coming so under manned- no doubt a result of their oer'weaning pride. Torfinn and I did take their armour as the just spoils of combat. May the chain better serve us than its former owners. Derren took a cloak that, once the embroidery is picked out, should be very servicable. After the conflict, we proceeded into Winterhaven to the cheers of those on the walls who witnessed the combat.
Upon entering Winterhaven, we learned that there was a large band of orcs in the area, and that the village was preparing for an attack any day now. Bella wanted to press on in pursuit of Flagg, who we learned had been in town and recruited a few more for his band. I felt we had to aid these villagers in holding off the orc menace, and only part of this was altruistic. We need bases to work from in the north, and as the followers of Rao had proven in their deaths- to go without proper preparation is fatal. In holding the village we would gain support and thin the numbers of potential opponents at the same time. If the number of orcs in the area was as large as the Village leaders believed, we would not get far in our pursuit of Flagg at the moment. I am sure we will make up the time.
The party, after resting, proceeded to help with the preparations for the coming battle. Bella helped both in the forge and planning a pit trap at the gates, again proving her worth. We also set stakes to make the approaches more difficult, and I went among the people bolstering sprits and letting them know they were not alone. Morale was also greatly improved with the arrival of Ragnar and some of his hearty band of warriors.
As the sun began to set, we heard the approach of the orc war band and knew that our fates may soon be decided. The battle was soon joined, and I quickly expended my supply of javelins and had little to do until the walls were gained. Bella's little surprise worked very well, allowing the orcs to make it to the gate only to be slaughtered while giving them little opportunity to bring their battering ram to bear. This more than any one thing may have saved the night.
Several orcs managed to make the walls and enter the village, but these were killed, though there will also be several new faces in the halls of Valhalla- warriors who fought valiantly but fell. Bran was also nearly carried away by the valkaries, but we were able to get to him in time. I feel his skills will still be needed. It has been a hard night and rest is needed, may the gods guide us until I next have opportunity to put quill to parchment.
In service to Thor,
Bjorn Thorskirk
Here's a couple of journals from the one character we have not yet heard from, Torfinn- Invoker of Thor.
This one is from the first game session.
Torfinn’s Quiet Reflections (Part One)
*First day of travel*
There is nothing more beautiful than watching the dull grey haze of storm clouds consume the horizon. Today will be a day for Thor it seems. I will travel by sea with my comrade Bjorn, I can’t say I’ve been terribly good company for the brawny priest, but we are still bound by threads of fate. Bjorn found me in the storm and gave me shelter, he asks no questions and expects no answers, for that I shall be eternally grateful.
*Two days from Fall-crest*
This Halfling vessel is well made, it almost glides across the sea. I suspect we’re ahead of schedule and it wont be too long before we reach Fallcrest. Isn’t that a troubling thought. While I find vale-folk to be “interesting”, It’s still hard for me….to communicate.
Darren Androsax is the opposite, he has spoken to me often over the last few days and while I don’t respond other than the occasional nod, he can’t seem to stop. The company isn’t terrible and…he is knowledgeable on various subjects, but I see fire in his eyes that will likely consume him and his hopes for reviving his family name. I suppose men like Darren were born to find Valhalla.
His sister Deryl is…..intriguing. She can’t look me in the eye for long without glancing to her feet, perhaps she dislikes me. Their companion, Bella seems to be a private person, other than exchanging names we haven’t spoken. Bjorn has informed me he intends to tease Bella to liven up the voyage, my comrade can be rather…simple at times.
*Inside the Blue-Moon tavern*
Isn’t it curious how humans behave under the effects of ale? Bjorn forced some upon me when we first met, but I believe it didn’t have the desired effect. In fact, that was the one and only time I sensed a hint of….disappointment from him. Perhaps he was hoping for a drinking partner.
Still, the company of Deryl has proved to be…stimulating, she somehow managed to fall asleep amidst all the loud banter and drunken songs. I question why Darren has brought such a young woman so far from home, but I suppose everyone has their own circumstances.
*The morning of the Orc camp ambush*
Sleep didn’t come easy last night, was it a vision? Or a simple nightmare? While the horrific images were vague shadows dancing through my mind’s eye…I was able to make out…a beautiful woman in tears and a hideous silhouette screaming in agony.
These fleeting scenes cause my heart nothing but…pain. It would seem I’m still naïve to have such worthless thoughts. The Orcs should prove fitting targets for me to unleash my frustrations. May all the brave souls lost today find peace wherever they may.
*At camp after successfully defeating the Orcs.*
We lost few and the Orcs lost everything. A fair trade. My new-found allies proved themselves to be powerful, brave and cunning during the skirmish, but for some reason I cannot be part of the excitement evident at camp.
I overheard Darren telling Bjorn of his heroic leap, I saw Bran and his brother happily tallying Orc ears and I even think Bella was smiling at that strange contraption that serves her so well (her clockwork crossbow).
But, there is nothing for me in victory. No pride and no glory…all I feel is empty. It is in this moment more than ever that I truly feel like an outcast.
Here's his journal from the second session.
Torfinn’s Quiet Reflections (Part Two)
*Standing guard at Winterhaven’s south watch-tower.*
I haven’t had much for reflection these past few days, Darren and Bran set a fast pace. We travelled by foot only breaking long enough for a simple meal and rest during the evening. The tedium has been…enjoyable, I found the time spent walking through the scenic wilderness peaceful…and refreshing. Is it selfish of me to feel refreshed while in hot pursuit of a murderer?
I believe there is more to this ‘Flagg’ than Darren and Bella have revealed. However, it’s none of my business, Flagg has killed innocent folk and that’s enough cause for me.
Flagg’s trail led us to close to Ragnar’s Hall, Bran and Darren thought it best we seek answers from the war chief. Bjorn seemed rather… excited at this prospect. How can I put this politely; Ragnar’s tribe was….interesting. The mixed aroma of animals, men and…feces was a little over-powering for my sensitive nose, sufficed to say I took many trips outside.
Although…I did notice something curious during our stay at Ragnar’s Hall. Vale-men seem almost bewitched by breasts. Bella had every eye on her as soon as we entered the stuffy room, I myself had to take a brief glimpse in a futile attempt to understand the fascination. Perhaps it’s beyond my mental capacity to grasps the simple joys of Vale-folk.
We continued on the path to Winterhaven until we came upon a besieged settlement not far from our destination. It was plain to see Orcs were about…for a moment I felt…nostalgic. Why is it that scenes of destructions cause such a stir of emotions? My allies suffered no casualties and only a few wounds, the Orcs fared much worse.
Unfortunately we were far too late to save the folk that were left behind.
I found the mood in Winterhaven to be rather sullen…although I got a few pats on the back from various Vale-men. They were preparing to defend their village; men and child scrambled about wearing rusty armour and dulled blades. I had no doubt Bjorn would stay to defend the small-folk.
My day was spent shovelling holes and planting wooden stakes around the front entrance. Bella is a….perfectionist. She asked me rather politely to re-dig the pit for her trap three times over. I didn’t complain, it was a pivotal defence for the front gate. If we lose the gate, we lose the town.
Amazing, Deryl has managed to fall asleep with the Orcs causing such a racket not far up-field. I spotted their brute shadows moving around the outer rim of the sentry pyres. Combat will come upon Winterhaven soon, I hope these stout walls can withstand the trail.
An interesting campaign Sir Dungeon, most interesting. I look forward to seeing a massive campaign journal thread unfold over the next year or three. :)
Thanks Turin. The players have been really enjoying it so far, so I hope that it continues to go well for some time to come.
Bellas has some latent sorceress talents that she plans to develop. Here's her intro:
Bella sits on her bed in her room eating an apple, waiting for everyone to be ready to leave. She was not feeling well since waking, nauseous and lightheaded. Her arms had been tingling from her elbows down. She was clumsy, falling over herself every time she tried to walk.
Finally able to relax and contemplate, it occurs to her what might be causing it. She looks at the apple and with a sudden motion tosses it to the wall then, following it with her eyes she gives it a little mental push. She feels the symptoms flowing out of her body and into the apple. When it strikes the wall it explodes with far greater force then the toss would allow. She stares at the mess on the wall, knowing what it could mean but scarcely believing it after so long.
She breaks her stillness and purposely searches through her bag digging out a small, tattered notebook covered in dwarven runes. Although she understands the meaning of the cryptic symbols reading them would only give her a headache. Try as she might she could not hold the ideas they represented in the confines of her mind. She remembers her old Dwarven instructor on the arcane arts, “Smokingbeard”, telling her what the problem was.
“Ye see lad, magic writings are magic themselves and cannot be read by just anybody, ye have to have the gift or their meaning is as graspable as smoke. A local miner may understand the words on the page but without the magic in him he forgets as soon as he looks away.”
“Now ye have a bit of the spark in ye lad, I can see that but perhaps too little now to be able to read the writings. Perhaps in a few more decades ye will have grown powerful enough, be patient lad, ye ain’t human, you’ll get there soon enough.”
She opens the books with shaking hands and starts to read the familiar page. As usual she feels its knowledge settling into her mind as it always did. This time thought, it doesn’t slip away; it stays. Her heart beating fast and smiling she finishes the book, a sorceress at last.
PCs
Darren Androsax- human, male fighter 2
Deryl Androsax- human, female sorcerer 2
Bjorn Thorskirk- human, cleric 2
Torfinn- deva, male invoker
Bella- changeling, female, rogue 2
Here’s my quick summary of the first half of game session #3. Hopefully the upcoming player journals will fill in the details.
The party left the village of Winterhaven in pursuit of Flagg. It was the 1st of April when they set out, and they made their way southwest along the trade road. They had learned from a local Innkeeper named Bern that Flagg had stayed at the Inn in Winterhaven while trying to recruit locals for his expedition. Bern had overheard Flagg mention that they would be heading to a site in the Ogrefist hills. This was the clue the heroes needed and they promptly set out like eager hunting hounds.
After a day and a half of travel, they eventually came to a river, and the river’s source appeared to be somewhere in the Ogrefist hills. Here they found a roadside shrine dedicated to the Skanzi gods. The shrine was a 15’ high rune stone and sitting on it, as though waiting for them, was a solitary raven. Bjorn saw this as a good omen. The raven flew off heading upriver towards the hills. The heroes decided to follow.
The river itself was a curious thing, for it had a terrible stink about it and was contaminated with some sort of oily black toxin.
By nightfall they were approaching the hills. The raven led them to the ruins of a long abandoned settlement. It was little more than foundations, and had probably once been a primitive little village. In the center of the village stood another large standing stone. In some ways it resembled the roadside shrine, but there was something evil about this monolith. A single rune was inscribed near the top- an eye wreathed in flames. Both Bjorn and Darren recalled having seen mention of the symbol, but could say little about it other than it was referred to as the “Elder Elemental Eye”, and that it is a symbol venerated by an ancient cult that is thought to have vanished centuries ago. In front of the stone were two dead ogre corpses. Bjorn and Darren moved up to investigate them while the rest of the heroes stayed back. They could tell that the ogres had been killed by sword and axe wounds. One had also had his throat torn off and the other had burn wounds on its arm. They suspected Flagg and his men were responible. Suddenly the dead ogres stirred. One of them suddenly grabbed out at Darren’s leg, but he managed to agilely hop away. The hulking beasts rose up, as terrible undead and attacked. A nasty little fight took place with Darren and Bjorn being hammered with several deadly slam attacks. The rest of the heroes hung back and fired at the undead from a distance with spell and bow. In the end the undead were finally destroyed, but both Darren and Bjorn were pretty battered from the fight.
With the undead destroyed, they completed their search of the ruins. They discovered the remains of a recent campfire, which helped confirm that Flagg had been in the area. They tried to sleep in the village that night, but this proved impossible. The evil of the monolith haunted their dreams turning them to terrible nightmares. They were forced to make camp elsewhere, but even then their sleep was troubled. They had not yet entered the hills, but they were close enough to hear the distant sounds of cavorting ogre clans, and those sounds were horrific in their own right.
The next morning the raven was waiting for them on a nearby rock, and it led them into the desolate hills. They kept themselves alert for ogres; luckily the beasts hated the daylight and did not trouble them. Eventually, they came upon a crude stone hut. It was built on the top of a barren rocky hill. It appeared to be sized for man sized folk, which caught their interest. The base of the hill was surrounded by thorny briar, but they found a gateway through the briar and a trail leading up the hill to the hut.
The adventurers trudged up the hill. The tail led them around its backside and there they found another hut, this one was much larger and sized for a creature of ogre size or larger. They could hear pained moans coming from the larger hut, which piqued Deryl’s curiosity. Darren decided to hail the smaller hut at the top of the hill, and he caught the attention of someone in the building. A figure peaked its head out. It was an ugly bastard, clearly not a man, but about the size of a very large one. A conversation ensued and the heroes managed to deduce that Flagg had paid a visit and caused some trouble, but whoever the nasty people were that lived there wanted nothing to do with any strangers. The party decided to be on their way when they realized that Deryl was missing.
The girl had snuck off into the larger hut. There she discovered a wailing two-headed giant- an ettin. It was immediately clear why the ettin was in such torment. One of its heads was dead. It had been scorched by fire and the damage looked recent. Its surviving head suddenly noticed Deryl and screamed at her to get out of its home. She began to slowly back away, but not quick enough; it lurched forward with staggering speed and grabbed hold of her in a massive hand. It then tossed her as though she weighed nothing. She went flying out of the hut and nearly rolled down the steep hillside. Darren rushed to her aid and tossed her on her horse. The heroes started to retreat, as the giant lurched to the entrance of the hut and began to scream at them. It probably would have been content to let them run, had it not been for Darren. He stupidly shouted out, “Two heads are better than one.” This provoked the beast, and it charged after the foolish fighter, slamming the young man in the back and sending him sprawling across the ground. The heroes fled firing a few arrows and spells at it as they fled. They caused it enough pain to make it decide that they weren’t worth pursuing, and they escaped with their lives.
This is Bella's journal for Session #3
Session 3 – A Poor Foundation Leads to a Fallen House
Victor,
These Androsax children are going to get me killed.
We continue on the trail of Flagg who has left a path of destruction. We reached a small settlement, and by settlement I mean a couple of huts on the top of barren tor in the ogrefist hills. It was surrounded by ghoulish trophies of skulls and a fence that had bones built into it. In retrospect this was probably meant to keep people away, but it was important to gather information and make certain that we were still on the trail of our quarry, so we ignored them.
Screams of pain echoed from one of the houses and low guttural voices could be heard arguing from the other. After I had found a position that gave me line of sight to both entryways Derren started calling out.
The ‘man’ that greeted us was hideous, but did not prove to be hostile. He answered our questions but asked us to leave. We offered medical assistance to the wounded, for he claimed his mother was dying from wounds that had presumably been inflicted by Flagg and his band, but he would not take it, repeating his request that we leave them alone. Derren continued to interrogate him but with each question he was getting more agitated. I started whispering fiercely that it was time to go.
It was then that I noticed that Deryl was gone.
Scanning the area quickly I saw her horse outside of the larger hut where the pained screams were coming from. Suddenly they stopped. What followed was a cry of rage and the scream of a little girl. Deryl’s limp body was tossed out of the house, bouncing across the ground and stopping just short of the steep hillside. The girl was still, but I could see from my vantage point that she was still breathing. Knowing my business I held my position and kept ToD (touch of death) pointed at both entrances to the huts. I had to be ready in case either of these freaks wanted to try anything.
Derren rushed over and scooped up his sister just as a giant with two heads crested the doorway and stopped. I could see that one of his two heads was dead and that he was enraged, but he came no further. I waited for my best shot, but the beast at the doorway, screaming for us to leave him in his misery. Derren placed his wounded sister upon her horse and sent the mare running. I was surprised that Bjorn did not run to help the girl, but my job is in killing not in healing so I do not question his judgment.
It was obvious that the giant monstrosity would be content to see us go. Finally it seemed that Derren had gotten the point. We could have walked out of there right then and no harm would have come to us. We even started to.
Then Derren opened his mouth.
“Two heads are better than one.”
In my shock I confess that I missed my shot when the now enraged giant lumbered out of the doorway to crush the foolish noble. We ran and thankfully we escaped with our lives, only the Androsax siblings sustaining any injuries. Bjorn, the cleric called them lessons. Let us hope that they begin to learn before one of these lessons does more than bruise them.
Belladonna
Darren Androsax's 3rd journal
Dear Corvin,
We are in over our heads. Somehow, inexplicably, after fighting Orcs, travelling across the vale and seeing wonders great and small – Deryl and I are bringing shame to the Androsax name. After our victory against the orc raiders, we travelled with Bella, Bjorn and Torfinn deeper west, past plains and hills until we met a merchant from the far off town of Westmore.
He seemed sullen and circumspect on account of some powers behind the throne. Powers, as it will no doubt dawn on you, of shadow, of ancient lineage and deep rivals to the Androsaxes – none other than House Tremaine! It took all of my resolve to stay with our friends and pursue that devil’s pawn Flagg, but brother, I assure you, my proud sword and I will one day rattle through the streets of Westmore.
After heading south, an omen of the old gods met us on the road – a raven. Bjorn found this to be a special symbol of the gods, circling as it did in the direction we presumed Flagg had taken. The waters of the land grew more corrupt as we entered the Ogrefist Hills. And let me tell you Corvin, they do not name places for fancy in the Vale. There were Ogres- corpses, foul spawn of Ogres and men, and even a hulking variety sporting two heads. And that, I’m afraid is where our trouble began.
We had dispatched a pair of animate corpses, done in by Flagg and his retinue, and brought to cursed sentience by the hulking, disturbing stellae of the flaming eye. Could you research this, by the way? I suspect it was a cult of orcdom, given the crude manufacture.
Beyond this, the hills growing ever more watchful, and ever following that ‘lucky’ bird – we came across a homestead surrounded by thorns and adorned with skulls. It seemed pleasant enough. I called out, and my friends seemed annoyed. I figured the skulls were mostly of Orcs, you know? As we approached closer – great wails and moans could be heard from an oversized hut. You remember how kind Deryl was whenever one of our servants was injured? Well, bless her fiery and unpredictable heart, she dashed into the hut to see what was the matter. Bella, ever the diplomat, trained her crossbow on our potential hosts, further up the hill. Remind me to leave Bella out of future negotiations, by the way.
Deryl came out – well, more flew out – of the hut and just as I was able to set her on Fairfax, out came a slobbering, wailing giant of a creature, one head in agony, the second lolling in a stage of horrid decomposition. Taking pity on the creature, I said what I thought was sympathetic ... “Well, at least two-heads are better than one.” Clearly, the smarter noggin had died, because the remaining one got quite enraged. We had to retreat – a personal first. And now the others won’t stop lecturing us.
I told Deryl not to let it bother her. We just have to be TWICE as brave the next time.
We approach an old temple with the same flaming eye pillars. Flagg is close. Wish us well – vengeance for poor old Crumm is at hand.
This is the final half of my GM account of session #3.
That night they were forced to make camp in the hills themselves. There was no fire made that night, and they did their best to stay well hidden, as the last thing they wanted was to be set upon by a clan of inbred ogres. The gods and the fates were kind to them that night, and though they could sense that the beasts were skulking about, the creatures did not find their concealed campsite.
The following morning the raven was again waiting for them. Once again it led them up river. By mid day they had reached the river’s head waters. Its source was a boggy valley. The valley was a stinking mire of mud, rock and pools of tainted water all feeding into the stream. On the far side of the valley was a rocky outcropping that stuck out into the bog. Crouched on top of it sat the remains of what appeared to be a primitive temple. The evil in the valley was nearly palpable, and it seemed clear that it was the source of the taint that had infected the entire region. The poisoned river itself ran right up to the base of the stone outcrop and disappeared into a dark tunnel.
The companions opted to hike around the valley to the temple. They approached with caution. There were several ruined outbuildings and one larger primary building. More stone monoliths stood watch over the ruin. These were each carved with the same fire wreathed eye that they had seen etched on the monolith in the ruined village two days earlier, and much like that ruin, this temple seemed very, very old and crudely constructed. Yet, these ruins were not entirely deserted.
Nearly a dozen skeletal guardians lurked in the ruins, and as soon as the heroes entered the skeletons converged on them. Luckily for the heroes, the ancient skeletons were armed with spears and swords, and they had to close some distance to get to the party. This gave Bran and Bella a chance to hammer them with arrows, while Deryl and Torfinn hit them with spells. Several of the skeletons were damaged or destroyed before they got near the heroes, including one that had been wreathed in flame and looked to be the most dangerous one of all. Enough survived this bombardment that they managed to close on the heroes, and Darren and Bjorn stepped up and brought the fight to them. Bjorn shattered their old bones with his mighty warhammer, while Darren darted among them, cutting them down with his short swords. The men took a number of wounds, but soon the undead were defeated, leaving the companions free to explore the ruin.
The site was so ancient that there was little left to scavenge. However, they did find a secret door beneath the altar stone with a tight spiral staircase leading down. Bran also made it clear that he could find no signs that Flagg had come this way. Bjorn suspected that perhaps Flagg had followed the river into the tunnel below the temple and that the stairs might provide an alternate route down to wherever he had gone. The rest of the heroes agreed that this made sense, and they decided to venture down the stairs.
A terrible stench was wafting up from below along with strange moaning sounds that reminded them of wounded animals. The stair spiraled down for a great distance until finally they opened into a small room with hallways branching off of it. The chambers they had discovered down here were also clearly very old, and there was no light to help them see, so they were forced to pull out sun rods. They made their way out into the hall and looking to their right they could see that the hall led down to another room. There, in the room, were several goblins hunched around a flat stone altar. Splayed out on the altar was the body of a dead skanzi warrior. It was a scene of horror, his stomach had been sliced open and his innards hauled out to drape the altar. Furthermore, the goblins could barely be recognized as goblins. They had clearly undergone some sort of horrible mutation. They had huge oozing tumors and sores, and the hands of some had reshaped into nasty claws. Most were completely naked and had no weapons other than their clawed hands. Some of these goblins could barely walk, and it was clear that they lived in perpetually agony. A few larger ones had nasty clubs, and there was one among them who wore dirty robes and was adorned with fetishes. The creatures immediately took note of the heroes and turned hostile.
Battle ensued. As usual, Darren and Bjorn moved up into battle, while Deryl, Bella, Torfinn, and Bran hung back and attacked from a distance. Bella focused her marksmanship on the shaman and quickly dispatched it before it could cause any trouble with its hexes and spells. Bjorn and Darren fought well and the battle was swaying in the heroes favor until Bella was ambushed from behind. Another pair of goblins had snuck up on her. These strange mutants had the ability to crawl along the ceiling, and were very stealthy. They jumped down, out of the shadows and tore into her back with deadly claws. Bjorn was too far away to give her healing, and Deryl had to come to her aid with her magic, while Bran targeted them with his bow. The creatures were in close and the girl channeled her spells through her dagger, and used the weapon to blast them with frost and chaos energy. Bella back peddled away and hammered them with crossbow bolts, and soon they were bloodied enough that they scampered back into the darkness. Meanwhile, Bjorn, Darren and Torfinn had finished the rest of the goblins, and it seemed that the fight was over.
They set about exploring the area and found the remains of several more goblins that had all met violent deaths- another sign that Flagg had passed this way. There were a few more of the mutants about, but these ones offered little resistance and the heroes ended their misery quickly.
Near the altar they made an interesting discovery. Above the altar stone, carved into the wall was another symbol of the elemental eye. However, this one was a little different. The actual eye was a huge piece of amber about the size and shape of a goblin’s head, and it was lodged in the wall. It looked quite valuable, so the heroes pried it free. As they were inspecting it, they noticed something strange. Trapped inside the amber, was a thing that looked vaguely like a massive tadpole, but much more alien. None of them knew exactly what it was. However, they decided that they would take it, possibly for further study.
They also discovered a large room with a pool of vile, oily black liquid. A stream of the stuff led down a tunnel, which emerged into the outside world. This pool was likely the source of the contamination that had poisoned the river, and they felt that they should do something about it, though they could not decide what.
Finally, they found another flight of stairs that led to even deeper catacombs, and it is their plan to being exploring these chambers in the next session.
On Sunday we ran the 4th session of our campaign. It proved quite revealing.
PCs
Bella- changeling, rogue 2
Darren Androsax- human, male, fighter 2
Derly Androsax- human, female, wild magic sorcerer 2
Bjorn Thorskirk- human, male, cleric of Thor 2
Torfinn- deva, male, invoker 2
This is Bella's forth journal.
Starke,
We have finally tracked Flagg to his destination- an ancient temple. Unfortunately, he had already moved on days ago. It was covered with the symbol of the fiery, Elemental Eye that we had been seeing in our travels.
Exploring the ruins we found hordes of undead but nothing we couldn’t handle. There was a pool of toxic, black ichors that was draining into the local water supply. Diluted it had caused a burning sensation to skin; we never found out what the concentrated solution did; although some wanted to. There was no way for us to block the seepage so we had no choice but to leave it.
There was not much to the primitive temple structure. Beyond the pool there were catacombs and beyond that was a large, circular, domed room featuring a large well. The exterior of well was peppered with holes, all of them empty.
Deep down the well’s shaft there was an…entity. It was in the shape of a roiling black cloud that emanated malicious intent, and we could sense that it was divine in origin. Beyond that, it was a mystery and not one that we were going to be able to solve. After a thorough search we left, discouraged that Flagg’s trail had gone cold.
After spending the night far from the temple we found that we had another difficulty, or rather I had a problem. While fighting in the temple, I had allowed some of our enemies to close in on me. One of them had caught my back with its claws and now I could feel the wound burning like fire. I felt weak and dizzy, and if not for the … eager … administrations of Bjorn’s healing, I believe I would have died before getting help. I suppose I could forgive his less than chaste healing hands.
We decided to head back to Fallcrest. Unfortunately, on our way back, we came across a pair of poorly armed villagers who were seeking out a person who had attacked their kin in their village and kidnapped a local girl. The girl was in fact the grand daughter of the older of the two. Their description sounded similar to Flagg’s method of attack. We decided to risk investigating it since Bjorn seemed to be able to keep my disease at bay, and I was well enough to press on.
We followed their trail to a ruined manor. Outside were the dead bodies of some of some men who had set out from the small village to hunt down the killer. We began carefully exploring the inside of the stone manor house, but we hadn’t gotten far before we were attacked by a trio of frightening creatures. Each wore a golden skull with the fire eye etched in the skull’s forehead. They were covered in sores and possessed incredible strength and agility. One of them matched the description of the girl that had been kidnapped from the village.
My eyes couldn’t focus. My arrows kept missing their marks. I watched as Darren dropped one of our enemies. A black smoke rose from his mouth upon his death as the body dropped to the ground. His body deflated, the flesh almost liquefying as the smoke dissipated. These people were already dead.
Torfinn attacked the girl from the village stunning her with his divine magic. I saw my opportunity and took my shot in spite of Darren calling out for me to stop. Apparently he believed that he could still save the girl. Could he not see how dangerous these monsters were? They were stronger than normal and mad, besides they were already dead. Better to kill them than to attempt to interrogate them. How did he expect to even contain them? Although he may now despise me for it, I stand by my decision. It was simply too great of a risk to keep any of these monsters alive.
After neutralizing these possessed horrors, at least one of whom we believe had been part of Flagg’s group, we found several golden skulls in a large bag in the corner. We suspect that they had gotten them from the alcoves in the well.
We carried the bag of skulls back to Fallcrest. Bjorn took the precaution of burying the bag in the ground at each resting point. This proved to be a life saver, for each time we slept the skulls would call out for us to put them on; had they not been under the earth their siren song would have been irresistible.
I know what you’re thinking Victor, but I was not able to get my hands on any of the skulls, the rest of my companions never let them out of their sight and were eager to destroy them. Considering their nature it would be dangerous and foolish to try and send you one. There is no courier I would risk telling what he carried to, and anyone I didn’t tell would certainly become possessed. We have gotten a new bearing on Flagg, and rather than leaving my companions to personally carry back one of these artifacts to you, I am continuing on his trail. If you wish you can send a courier to Fallcrest, and the next time we return I can place one of these skulls into his hands for you to study. That is the most that I can promise.
Belladonna
At letter from Darren Androsax...
Dear Corvin,
Outrage! I am still fuming wildly at Bella’s cold calculations. How different we are! But let me not jump ahead. This land grows more strange and more dangerous by the week. We reached a ruined temple under the foul watch of the elemental eye – a crude symbol wreathed in flames. The temple was built by some long ago people – orcs are my best guess – and appeared recently disturbed by Flagg and his men. As we approached, emaciated, skeletal creatures defended the altar. Bjorn and I struck forth, Torfinn protected Deryl – and Bella to her credit dropped a foul, flaming bone pile before it could hurl its foulness in our faces.
We discovered a passage down to the tunnels below – where a sickly straggle of goblins lay scratching at each other in their misery. Bella caught some of the foul taint and Bran had enough by the time we reached their altar – a gore splattered remnant of one of Flagg’s men. We cut our way through a crypt and then made our way to a well. My friends are too cautious – but sometimes they are right. When I looked over the well, I saw something that could see through me. A black, smoking thought, a divine shade of oblivion. I confess that only the image of the sun burning bright could preserve me. Bjorn forgive me – for Thor certainly won’t.
The ruins held a block of amber encasing a fist-sized tadpole above the sacrificial altar. It was easily the most bizarre object of worship I had encountered. The goblins of Grimsburg have much better taste, I can assure you. But if that were the only artefact of evil we’d be lugging halfway across the Vale, we’d be lucky. Flagg had departed, and as we would learn later – had taken some tainted relics from three-score niches carved along the well. Brother – do send word of the flaming eye – and send it soon!
We tracked Flagg back duskwards, out of the haunted hills. A village had been attacked by demonic men the night before, and it sounded enough like Flagg that we pursued. Would you believe it – we came across a Roaringhorn Manor! It was ruined but made me hope that the Androsax Manor would be as easy to identify. Their stupid crest was right above the door. Still, the Roaringhorns are all right. Remember Griselda and Greyatrix? Those girls knew how to blow a horn.
But anyway, it turned out that one of Flagg’s men from Fallcrest had become corrupted by a golden skull – wearing it like a necklace! If he wasn’t stark raving mad and homicidal, he would have looked like some fashionless fop from Grimsburg. He tackled me from the shadows and was soon was joined by two villagers, similarly possessed. Now here’s where I get mad myself. Bella is the best markswoman I have ever seen. She can cut a stream of piss from a Skanzi warrior round the corner, deflecting her bolt from his discarded tankard. Seen her do it at Ragnar’s! But just when I was ready to subdue the girl, yank the necklace off her and get Bjorn to press his healing hammer upon her – thunck, Bella cracks a bolt in the poor thing’s temple. The girl was Deryl’s age, just as fair and beautiful – only more innocent. I understand Bella’s reasons. They were probably beyond saving. But not to try? Does she hate little girls? Does she hate her own lost innocence? Or is this the poison of the temple, infecting her judgment?
I have been watching Bella since then. And every now and then, when she is asleep I catch a flicker: her skin turns pale. Her hair whitens. One night, I think I even saw a dwarf sleeping in her pallet. On the other hand, we have all been affected by the elemental eye. Torfinn still won’t tell me what happened to his hand. Deryl, Bella and Torfinn – they are all changing, somehow. The evil of this place is getting into their skin. The only ones unaffected seem Bjorn and I. Probably because we drink so much.
We have returned to Fallcrest – and I will write again soon. Bjorn and Torfinn were able to call upon Thor’s valkyrie to point us towards Flagg – and we may be returning to Grimsburg sooner than you think. But the angel of death was also able to point due north when I asked where the Androsax Manor was!
Your devoted brother,
Derren
***
The Roaringhorn Drinking Song:
“Hey, ho, whats’up! Blow that horn and down your cup!
Drink, up! Drink up! Lift it high and eat your sup!
Roaringhorn, Roaringhorn, don’t call me out, I’m not yet done!
Roaringhorn, Roaringhorn, there still a barrel and an hour of fun! “
***
Fragments from a Hagiography of Rao
... and thus did Saint Aurielus smite the troll, speaking thusly: “Foul troll – though shalt taste the sun for eternity, for I will place you on a spit and let it burn you where the sun doth not normally shine ...”
This is a really good story.
I like how you have thoughts and events from different characters.
The norse feel added to Nentir Vale is a good choice aswell.
Looking forward to reading more!
I like how he has mixed elements in from published materials - Balabar Smenk, for one. ^_^
Sir Dungeon always tells a good tale.
I'm pretty much pulling a mish mash of some of the most interesting published stuff I've found from wizards and paizo and combining it altogether with a mix of my own ideas to hopefully create a fairly vibrant and cohesive campaign. So far my players have been enjoying it. They are heading for Grimsburg next, and that city will have plenty of elements from the Styes setting mixed in with it, and of course the heroes are very eager to meet the infamous Victor Starke, who I have decided is essentially a cross between Tony Starke and Dr. Doom.
I'm pretty much pulling a mish mash of some of the most interesting published stuff I've found from wizards and paizo and combining it altogether with a mix of my own ideas to hopefully create a fairly vibrant and cohesive campaign. So far my players have been enjoying it. They are heading for Grimsburg next, and that city will have plenty of elements from the Styes setting mixed in with it, and of course the heroes are very eager to meet the infamous Victor Starke, who I have decided is essentially a cross between Tony Starke and Dr. Doom.
^_^
Please tell me you're cruel enough to make him a Gestalt villain. I know I am.
Well it is a 4E game so they get built a little differently than 3E nasties, but I pride myself on making sure that my villains are all sufficiently nasty. My players have expectations and I need to meet them.
The party has determined that Flagg has headed south out of the Nentir Vale towards the city of Grimsburg, and they will be heading there after him. The following is a brief history of the city:
The site where Grimsburg stands has been a Skanzi settlement for centuries. However it was about the year 420, during the height of the Empire of Nerath that it began the transformation from a skanzi town to a cosmopolitan city. Colonists from Nerath were moving into the region in large numbers. Many were looking for land and opportunity, but many others were fleeing persecution. The Nerathi and Skanzi populations intermingled in Grimsburg, and though at first there was much tension and hostility between the two ethnic groups that hostility gradually faded. The Nerathi built stone manors and a large temple to Rao. They created a university and even built a series of man made islands at the mouth of Nentir river, which became the city’s main harbor and entertainment district. Over the next two hundred years the city more or less flourished
Though Rao’s faith had a strong presence in the city, the Nerathi who had come to Grimsburg were mainly dissidents of the empire. Many of them did not agree with some of the Empire’s policies and they were looking for a place where they could live that would be less stifling. Idealists would say that this resulted in a very cosmopolitan city- a place were new ideas and beliefs were valued and discussed openly without fear of persecution. Some of the brightest minds in the empire moved to Grimsburg, and many of those minds were practitioners of the arcane arts. Cynics would say that for every liberal free thinker to arrive in Grimsburg arrived at least five immoral opportunists who were either fleeing the law of the empire or just looking for a place to engage in their illicit activities unimpeded. By the time year 621 arrived (The beginning of the War of Retribution), Grimsburg had become a haven not only for mages, but also for criminals of all sort. The entertainment district was festering with brothels and gambling halls. Crime was rampant and the city government was thoroughly corrupt.
Grimsburg was hit early in the War of Retribution. The skanzi people rose in vast numbers to move against the Empire. In the Nentir vale they drove the Nerathi lords from their manors, and they either slaughtered them or forced them to join the skanzi horde. In Grimsburg the same thing occurred. Blood ran in the streets as the skanzi rose up against the Nerathi. Priests of Rao received the harshest treatment and were killed in particularly violent ways. For weeks Grimsburg was a place of complete anarchy and chaos. Eventually, the skanzi emerged triumphant and a semblance of order was restored to the beleaguered city. A vast shipyard was constructed, and Grimsburg’s population tripled almost overnight, as skanzi warriors from all over the north poured through its gates eager to join in Odin’s holy war. Grimsburg became the seat of massive skanzi army.
The population boom did not last long, for soon the skanzi long ships were sailing south en mass towards Nerathi mainland. For several decades they pillaged and raided the Nerathi people. In the year 668 the Bloodspear war began. With so many good skanzi warriors away from home, the communities of the vale were left vulnerable, and most of them were razed to the ground by the fearsome orcs. Eventually the men of the vale with the aid of the dwarves of Hammerfast and the elves of the Harkenwood pushed repelled the orc horde from the vale, but it left the Nentir Vale a shattered fragment of what it once was. The horde never made it as far south as Grimsburg, but the effects of the war were still felt, for many of the cities best warriors had ended up traveling north to fight the orcs, and had died. The city had become weak, and it had lost its bravest and finest, leaving it to the city’s criminals and scum.
Finally, in 682 Odin decided that Rao and his mortal followers had been punished enough and the War of Retribution ended. By this time the skanzi people were weary of the bloodshed, and though they had grown rich from the treasure they had looted from the empire, the wealth had come at a cost. Nerath had been strong and had put up great resistance. Many skanzi warriors had been lost in Bloodspear war and the War of Retribution , and the skanzi people needed time to replace their fallen warriors. By this time Grimsburg had fallen far from its glory days. It was a mere shadow of its former self. Its best and brightest were gone, and it was the cowardly and corrupt that still remained.
In the past one hundred years, Grimsburg has begun to rebound from the toll taken by the War of Retribution. Nerathi merchants have started trading in Grimsburg once again, and the city remains a haven for spellcasters. The city continues to be the greatest city in the North, and every year new immigrants from the fallen Empire of Nerath arrive seeking their fortunes. The church of Rao has reestablished itself and an uneasy truce exists between the priests of the sungod and the battle clerics of the Aesir. Crime and corruption remain a huge problem in the city, and nowhere is this more evident than in the Styes. The Styes is a district of decaying man made islands that was once the pride of the city. It is now a virtually autonomous district with its own city council. It is a continual reminder that Grimsburg still has a long way to go to regain its lost glory.
Well it is a 4E game so they get built a little differently than 3E nasties, but I pride myself on making sure that my villains are all sufficiently nasty. My players have expectations and I need to meet them.
Victor Starke? Bella's Employer? A villain?
Now I'm REALLY looking forward to our next game!
(And yes PH_Dungeon is an expert in beating us within an inch of our lives without fudging the die rolls.)
This journal's a little late in coming, but it is Bjorn's journal from game session #3. I'm expecting a couple of more from him in the near future. Today we finished session #5. Thus, far I've had no PC fatalities, but I have to admit that I haven't been working too hard at it. There were 7 deaths in the last adventure of our Second Darkness campaign, so i figured they needed a break, and some time to grow sufficiently attached to their new characters before said characters meet horrifying ends. Flagg will put up a good fight, so maybe a casualty or two won't be too far down the road...
Bjorn's Journal 3
Well journal it has been a while since I have had the opportunity to put quill to parchment, but now that we have returned to Fallcrest I will avail myself the pleasure.
After holding off the Orc's in Winterhaven we once again set off in pursuit of Flagg. Heading south and then east. We were fortunate enough to come across a roadside shrine to the Skanzi gods, specifically the All Father Odin, where we also encountered one of his messengers a raven who we divined wanted us to follow. It is good to know the Gods support us in our venture, even as they expect us to look out for ourselves. This was made evident when we were lead to a long abandoned village of crude design with a centre monolith with a crude flaming eye carved into it. The monolith gave us an uneasy feeling but we dismissed it as there were also the bodies of two Ogres. The bodies appeared to be reasonably recent and gave us hope that we were indeed on Flagg's trail. However on approaching the corpses for a closer examination they reanimated and proceeded to attack. After a hard fought battle we prevailed and proceeded to settle in for the night. It was not a peaceful rest however as we were plagued by night terrors and Torrfin underwent a horrifying transformation of his arm into a lizard like appendage that returned to normal as we left the area of the monolith. All of our companions proved their worth in the battle even young Deryl, though I still have concerns, which were borne out later in our travels.
We continued on the following day coming to a tor with a small dwelling on the top. The base of the tor was fenced with the gate adorned with the skulls of various humanoids, several unidentifiable. We continued up the path around the tor and came to what was a larger building built into the tor and unseen from the other side. From the larger building came a a wrenching sobbing and as we approached we saw also the small building atop the tor was larger than it first appeared. Several ogres stepped out of the building, they appeared the worse for wear as if in recent battle and warned us off. We offered assistance seeking knowledge of Flagg. We learned that indeed it appeared that it was Flagg's group that had passed through here. And we were about four days behind them. They refused our help and demanded we leave which we were proceeding to do. However the youngest Androsax took it upon herself to investigate the sobbing, even after being warned away, and the next thing we know her body comes flying out of the building followed by a large Etin. The etin had one deceased head, which was surely the cause of it's grief, and beyond our skill to help. It was enraged by the presence of more of the creatures who had caused its trouble. Deryl, while hurt, was not grieviously so and was helped to the back of our pack animal by her brother who in an attempt to smooth matters made things worse. I begin to see why the Androsax family fell so far. We managed to make our escape with no further conflict but it was close and given the importance that Bella is stressing the pursuit of Flagg be given an unnecessary skirmish should be avoided lest it put us at disadvantage down the road.
We continued on until we came to a marsh filled vale leading to what was an obvious ruin on the other side. I used one of the scrolls obtained earlier which greatly reduced our travel time around the vale striding from one tree to another in the distance. Once across the the vale we entered what appeared to be an abandoned temple with the flaming eye symbol we encountered earlier carved throughout. No sooner had we entered the temple were we set upon by several skeletal undead. We fought well together and overcame them with minimal injury to ourselves. On investigating we found a stairway under the altar leading down, into the catacombs below.
Using the light of a couple of sunrods we headed down the stairs , noting the rough hewn walls. On reaching the bottom we continued on into the halls and we set upon by deformed goblinoid creatures. After a hard fought battle we prevailed once again, though not unscathed. We found the corpse of a skanzi warrior, likely one of the warriors recruited from Ragnar. The corpse appeared to have been sacrificed to some strange deity above the altar was a large piece of amber with a strange and unholy creature trapped inside. Off this room was a drop into another chamber from which appeared to be the souce of a corrosive fluid tainting the local water ways. There were also several more corpses of the deformed goblioids we earlier ran into. We took advantage of the brief rest to marshal our resources before continuing. And as I see my candle has almost burned down I must stop for the evening to continue recording my tale in the morning.
This is Bella's account of game session #5. As usual, it is in the form of a letter to her patron, Victor Starke.
Victor,
Due to the power of the skulls Flagg has managed to stay one-step ahead of us the entire chase and unfortunately seems to be heading for Grimmsburg. From what I can deduce from witnessing the victims of these artifacts they are powered by an ancient and dark divinity and any who bear the golden skull become possessed by a sinister spirit and are reduced to a savage animal of great agility and strength. Until recently I would have thought that any who wear the skull are already dead but in our last melee with them, one of their band still retained the power of speech, something we had not seen before except in Flagg himself. Unfortunately I was forced to land a bolt inside her head so further questioning was impossible; a fact that Androsax will not let me soon forget.
I am starting to suspect that Flagg may be amassing an army to take you on Victor, he obviously could not do so alone. The good news is that I have convinced my other companions to bring the next set of skulls we find to you. They seem to lose their potency once worn so we are now seeking a fresh bag out of the many that Flagg took from the well.
We will meet soon, but our trip goes slowly, it seems Flagg is determined to slow us down at every turn. From Fallcrest we had been able to procure transportation down the river, and I believed that we would make good time and finally close the lead that our quarry had frustratingly retained over us. Unfortunately, it was not to be for our trip back down the river was not as smooth as our first. A stinking island of refuge blocked our boat and from the garbage frogmen attacked us. Luckily, I was able to push their shaman off solid ground into the water with some well place shots and soon after they fled.
It was not long after this that we reached Brynnstead, and found that Flagg’s men were besieging the town. Not wanting to miss an opportunity at acquiring another skull we stayed to defend the town. Most able-bodied men had been killed in previous attacks; our defenses were sparse. We convinced the local church, a Church of Rao to shelter the populace while we positioned ourselves for the inevitable attack. Derren, either foolishly or bravely, volunteered to remain out in the open as bait disguised as a vagrant while I positioned myself on a roof and the rest took cover in a nearby house.
Soon Flagg’s men were upon us and as expected they went directly for Derren. From my perch on the roof I was able to grievously wound many of them from relative safety but was forced to retreat when re-enforcements closed in on my position. After dispatching the first wave of attackers we made our way into the church where several of the enemy had breached its walls.
Derren joined the battle crying out the name of his ancestor, which he has told us at length is a Saint of Rao. He also seems to be fighting better than usual, his gods seem to be with him…but which gods I wonder?
Early into the second half of the battle I was beset by the Androsax curse. A beast man smashed through one of the windows of the church and landed beside Derryl. The terrified girl ran straight to me. Knowing the brute would follow her I had no choice but to reposition myself and hope I could take him down with a few precise shots. My adrenaline pumping my aim proved true but it was unfortunately not enough to take down the monster and he leapt at me. Fortunately the pews we were standing in made him clumsy and he did not catch me with the full force of his clawed hands or I would have been much more gravely injured.
He stood in front of me, enraged, and my eyes darted in every direction looking for an escape. Unfortunately the battle had moved in my direction and other enemies had cut me off. Desperately I flipped over the pews, the creature’s claws barely missing me and I quickly took refuge in the shadows once more.
The fight was over soon after that and we were victorious. We plan on investigating where these possessed men and women were staying in the hopes of acquiring active skulls. After that, I will be coming home to Grimmsburg.
See you soon,
Bella
This is Darren's most recently journal.
Dear Corvin,
We are heading to Grimsburg soon – please prepare mother and father for Deryl’s return. She has been quiet and circumspect, of late. I see now what a fool I was for bringing her to the Vale. There is too much death and darkness for one so small. What a fool I was.
We sailed south with a good Nerathi man and his two sons, but were ambushed by cruel, festering frogmen on the river. We fought them off, but one of merchant's boys was killed. After a brief stay in Moonstair, we reached Brynstead, and there we were beset by a pack of Flagg’s corrupted men. We ambushed them – my friends fought bravely. But none of this matters now, for I am dead to them. What a fool I was ... until I stepped into the light.
With Deryl’s magic giving me a strange gift of flight, I burst into the Temple of Rao. Flagg’s men were devouring villagers – Nerathi and Skanzi alike. Priests of both religions were fighting them back. Bjorn and I crashed into the foul fiends with fire and thunder. Bolts of light coursed through Torfinn and Bella danced deadly through the aisles loosing bolt upon bolt into. It was night, but the whole temple grew brighter with each victory. Through the clangs of steel and gurgles of death, singing grew louder in my ears. Southern canticles fed my spirit. Wounds became painless, and I leapt through the rabble to tear a fiend to pieces. The brightness was unbearable. I could no longer make out Bjorn’s battle-prayers. Torfinn’s features started to shift – a reptilian sneer crossed his face. The chanting was calling out to me from ages past – and in the stained glass, I caught the sad and pious eyes of our great-grandfather, St. Aurielus.
Corvin, the light has blinded me, and now I can see for the first time. We slew them to the last, their bodies proving too far gone for saving. I wept bitterly on the altar, blood covering my face. I have made such good and noble friends in these bitter last few weeks – but I carry a new faith in my heart. Do they know? What will I tell them? When the chanting stopped, and the light faded from my head, my eyes caught the open book on the altar. Some strange compulsion brought me forth to read it.
It was opened to the story of Saint Amra in his days as a smith: “... and so did Amra take up the Hammer of the North and cast it in the fire, purifying its goodness in the flames. And thus did the hammer shine so brightly, it appeared as a sun, and yeah did the heathen become the faithful on the road to the Shining South.”
Corvin, I am not pious or peaceful as well you know ... but I am thinking of getting a tattoo of a hammer surrounded by a halo of flame. Maybe, y’know, start my own holy fighting order. Maidens swoon over prophets with swords.
Your brother,
Derren
GM notes from Session #5
The heroes headed south towards Grimsburg on the trail of the elusive Randall Flagg, having determined he was heading in that direction via the Hand of Fate ritual. They have realized now that he and his men are likely in possession of around 60 or so golden skulls from the temple of the Elder Eye they discovered in the Ogrefist hills. All the skulls seem charged with the essence of some sort of malevolent divine being and those that come into possession of them are taken over and transform into supernaturally tough homicidal killers. What exactly Flagg’s plans are remains a little unclear, but they are clear that he leaves a trail of death wherever he goes, and they feel it is their responsibility to stop him.
They joined up with a merchant known as Alsferth and his two boys as well as two of his hirelings. Alsferth had a Knarr (a Viking merchant ship), and they sailed south down the Nentir river towards Grimmsburg. While passing through the Witchlight fens they were beset on by bullywugs in the night. The bullywugs had a shaman (mud lord) who used a special ritual to summon a massive floating sheet of muck, which the ship got caught up in. Bjorn spotted the mud while on watch that night, but two of the bullywugs were holding the rudder of the ship, and the helmsman couldn’t turn the ship in time to avoid the muck before the ship became trapped. The bullywugs were able to take advantage of their marsh walk ability to hop up on the muck and then leap from the muck into the ship. This proved effective and made for an interesting fight. Luckily for the heroes, Bella targeted the mudlord early on, and once he was badly wounded he fled, which broke the morale of the remaining bullywugs, allowing the heroes to win what otherwise might have been a pretty tough fight.
The party continued to follow the river and passed through a couple of other settlements including Moonstair (from P1). In Moonstair they learned that this town had also had several killings, as all the inhabitants of an outlying farm had been slaughtered. The folk in Moonstair figured that trolls were responsible, but the heroes were pretty sure it was Flagg and company.
Finally the river came to Diamond Lake, with the actual town of the same name being on the far shore (see Dungeon’s Age of Worms for Diamond Lake details). They landed in a town called Brynsted, and they found that the town was in panic. Flagg had passed through and slaughtered nearly all of the ruling Gunderson clan was well as the local skanzi priests, who had for the past hundred years been operating out of a former temple of Rao. Two clerics of Rao had reclaimed the temple immediately after the deaths of the skanzi priests, and they were only allowing those of Rao’s faith to take shelter in the temple, even though it had sturdy stone walls and was one of the more defensible buildings in the city. This was particularly true since Gunderson Hall had been burned to the ground by Flagg. For the past several days prior to the party’s arrival, a group of Flagg’s possessed had been entering the town at night and committing multiple murders. With the town’s leaders killed and murders being committed on a nightly basis, the place was rightly panicked. Many had already fled the town for Grimsburg or Diamond Lake. Those who stayed were gathering to spend their nights in the Inn or temple for safety.
The heroes, particularly Bjorn, were not pleased to hear that the clerics of Rao were only offering shelter to those of that faith, and they went to the temple and confronted the priests. When they arrived the priests were just about to disenchant the warhammer of the dead skanzi priest, but Bjorn managed to stop them by trading a magic holy symbol of Rao they had found on a dead priest near Winterhaven for the warhammer. They also successfully convinced the priests to allow all the villagers to take refuge in the church regardless of religion.
That night all the surviving villagers gathered in the temple. The heroes used Darren as bait. He posed as a drunk under a tree near the temple and lured several of the possessed to him. The heroes ambushed their foes and managed to kill five of them, but there were more about and the rest were busy attacking the temple. The heroes had to rush to the nearby temple, and there they helped the townsfolk fight off the remaining possessed. It proved to be a fairly tough fight, but there were no fatalities for the PCs, and Flagg’s minions were defeated. Flagg was not among them and it is presumed that he had already moved onto Grimsburg.
The heroes are now hoping to acquire a sample of a “live” skull, as they don’t currently have one, and they decided it would be a good idea to give one to Starke to analyze when they get to Grimsburg. They suspect that the possessed may have lairing in an abandon keep near the town. The keep once belonged to the Bryne family, which was a Nerathi family that the town is named for. However during the War of Retribution the Gunderson clan slaughtered the Brynes and took the town. For one year the Gundersons resided in Bryne keep, but they were driven out on the anniversary of the massacre when the Ghost of Lord Bryne killed all the Gundersons in the keep (I’ll post the tale next). Thus, the surviving Gundersons built their own hall in the town, and the keep has been abandoned since then.
In the upcoming session the heroes plan to search the keep for any golden skulls that may have been stashed there by the possessed. From Brynsted they plan to head to Grimsburg where they hope to find and defeat Flagg. Based on what I’ve got planned, the next couple of sessions should prove to be quite climactic and harrowing. At the end of this past session they leveled up to 3rd.
The Skalds tell the following Story about Bryne Keep.
It is well known that the skanzi are a warlike people and that they are sometimes prone to bloodlust and battle fervor. It is said that Gunder Swenson, who became the founder of what is now known as the Gunderson clan was a particularly violent man, and the night he led the attack on Bryne keep was a night of bloodshed and slaughter.
It was yule in the year 623, and it had been one year since Jarl Gunder and his clan had defeated the Brynes and established themselves in Bryne Keep. They were feasting and drinking, as wealthy skanzi lords are wont to do on cold winter nights, particularly at yule, when it all began.
Gunder Swenson’s third son, Olaf had retired upstairs to his chambers early for the night to be with his young new wife Bridda. The rest of the clan remained in the hall, content in their revelry. They were suddenly startled by a wailing shriek from one of the chambers above. Bridda came rushing down the stairs, naked and pale. So terrified was she that all she could muster was, “Olaf is dead.”
As soon as she spoke these words, the fire and all the candles in the hall went out. All was dark, darker than the deepest night. The room grew cold. A single pair of heavy boot steps could be heard coming down the stairs. They were slow and purposefully, and with every step they got closer and closer. All stood still, for they were all blind in the darkness. They waited and they prayed.
Whoosh
A cold blue fire erupted in the hearth, bathing the room in its chilling light. Standing at the entrance to the hall was the ghost of Lord Bryne. In one had he carried a blood soaked sword, and in the other he carried the head of Olaf Gunderson. He tossed the head into the air, and it rolled across the dining room table. The revelers were so terrified that they could not even scream.
Little is known about exactly what happened next. It is said that furniture, dishware and food all began to whirl through the air battering the fear struck revelers. And Lord Bryne was in their midst, slashing with his blade, carving down man, woman and child; until only one remained.
Had all of Jarl Gunder’s clan been present that night, Lord Bryne, would likely have had his revenge, and perhaps then his spirit would have rested peacefully. But the norns had decided otherwise.
Gunder’s eldest and second eldest sons had been absent from the feast, for they were serving as warriors to King Bori Sturgleson in Grimsburg. And so it was that Lord Bryne’s vengeance against Jarl Gunder’s family was thwarted. Yet, there was one survivor, the one who is the source of so much of this tale. That survivor was Olaf’s wife Bridda.
No one is certain exactly why she was allowed to leave when all others were killed, and this is not something she ever spoke of. What is known is that she eventually made her way to Grimsburg, and there she became the lover of Gunder’s eldest son- Steapa.
The tale concludes later that same winter when Steapa awoke in the night to find Bridda hovering over him with a knife, ready to slit his throat. Tears were streaming down her face, and she hesitated. Steapa threw her off him, and for the second time that winter she ran off naked into the night- this time never to be seen again. Or so it would seem…
It is said that from time to time, on cold winter nights, on the streets near what is now Strugleson Castle, a tearful naked maiden has been seen running through the darkness only to vanish without a trace.
Unfortunately, the real life monster made a surprise ambush against our game session that was scheduled for last Sunday. It rolled a natural 20 and the game session was killed by the massive crit damage. However, we should be back in business this coming Sunday.
Today we ran our 6th session of the campaign, so journals from that session should be arriving over the next few days. This is a late journal regarding our last session from Bjorn (cleric of Thor)
Bjorn's Jornal 5
It has been an interesting time. Our trip south was fairly uneventful with one encounter with some frog like creatures in which we prevailed, though at a cost of the life of the good riverman's son. I preformed the ritual to preserve his corpse until he can be properly interred. Young Darren continues to attempt to buy the popularity to regain his family's position in the north. I would advise him differently but recent events are such that I am unsure that his family regaining power in the north is a good thing. I will not actively support or obstruct him until I am sure however.
On our way south we have stopped at the town of Brynsted, which was under the siege of more of those unfortunate souls taken by Flagg, This was a town taken by fear and divided by the raoists. In the first attacks the good Priests and Priestesses of the True Faith of the North fell defending the villagers from the beasts, The Roaists, who cowered, and did nothing until after then seized the temple dedicated to the Gods, This temple is one of the few fortified structures in the village. They then REFUSED shelter to any who would not embrace the faith of rao. This is the very division I mentioned earlier. If we were to defeat the menace we needed to be working together. On hearing that the raoists were refusing shelter we went directly to the temple to confront them. As we entered they were in the midst of a ritual to de-consecrate a symbol of Thor, I put a halt to the ritual and bargined a trade for the symbol of Rao we obtained earlier. The symbol is a beautifully crafted Warhammer, holding it I feel the blessing and power of Thor.
After stopping the desecration of the symbol we arranged for the temple to shelter all the villagers. We did this without coming to blows, but the fury I felt at the self serving power seeking raoists could be barely contained. Additionally I learned that an Androsax had once been a saint of the church of rao. My concerns regarding Darren deepen.
We sheltered the remaining townsfolk in the temple, and set up ourselves as bait for the evening's attack. We were largely successful and though the beasts managed to breach the temple by working together we were able to overcome the beasts.
We also learned two very important things. First those taken by the skulls are lost. We managed to remove and destroy one of the golden skulls with out killing the unfortunate who had been taken. The destruction did nothing free the soul and it was just as vicious as before and we had to destroy it. Second Darren appears to be falling deeper into the grasp of raoism. Be this the case I wish him well in his choice but will prevent the restoration of his house in the north.
Tomorrow we will investigate the haunted manor to the north to see if this is where Flagg's creatures were camped and if there are more skulls, as we saw near Fallcrest.
Game Session #6 (Part #1, Brynsted Keep- refer to the story of the keep above for details on the horrors the heroes will confront)
Cast
Bella and TOD (touch of death- her crossbow), level 3 changeling rogue.
Darren Androsax, level 3 human fighter
Deryl Androsax, level 3 human sorcerer (player absent from this session)
Bjorn Thorskirk, level 3 human cleric of Thor
Torfinn, level 3 deva invoker
The heroes have been making their way down the Nentir river towards the coastal town of Grimsburg in pursuit of Flagg. Flagg has left a trail of murder and death in his wake. Using his collection of mystical golden skulls, taken from the temple of the Elemental Eye in the Ogrefist hills, he has created a small army of possessed homicidal minions. It seems that the bulk of his band have decided to make Grimsburg their killing ground and the heroes are hoping to get there in time to find a way to stop them.
In the town of Brynsted, they found a band of the possessed terrorizing the folk of the town. Having dealt with that band of killers they decided that it would be prudent to seek out their lair and see if there were any unused golden skulls that could be salvaged and hopefully take back to Starke for study.
The heroes decided to make their way to Bryn keep, believing the possessed might have laired there. Darren insisted that his sister Deryl remain behind with the merchant Alsferth, and she complied. Thus it was Darren, Bella, Bjorn and Torfinn that set out for the keep. It was crouched on a hill not far from town. They had heard stories of the place, terrible stories, and they were cautious as they entered the bailey. Signs that the keep was haunted arose immediately, for a great white mist had crept up out the ground and blocked their exit. This did not dissuade them, and they first searched the ruined stables, but found no sign of a lair. Next they climbed to the top of one of the watchtowers where they had a commanding view of the countryside. They also realized that the mist rose nearly to the tops of the battlements and surrounded the entire castle. It seemed they were trapped.
They decided to explore the keep. They entered from one of the watchtowers and began searching the upper level first. This portion of the keep consisted of the bed chambers and solars for the castle’s residents. One thing they noticed right away was the temperature. It had been unnaturally cold outside the keep, but inside it was as cold as the skanzi winter. The first room they explored must have belonged to Olaf Gunderson, for on the fur blankets of the bed was the body of naked young man; the head was missing from the body. The body had not decayed even though it had been decades since the ghost of lord Bryne had been said to have slaughtered the Gundersons. The heroes suspected that the unnatural cold had preserved the corpse. A trunk containing the dead man’s possessions sat at the foot of his bed, and a shivering Darren moved forward to investigate. He had just begun rummaging through the trunk, when his sunrod cracked and went dead. The room went dark.
Bella had been standing guard at the doorway with TOD when everything went black. She cursed under her breath. She hated not being able to see. Then she heard them- heavy booted foot steps walking slowing down the hallway, getting closer and closer. She could see not see her foe through the darkness, but her imagination ran wild. A cold blue fire burst to life in the bedchamber’s brazier. It’s light spilled out into the hall, and standing before Bella, illuminated in the blue light, was the Ghost of Lord Bryne. In his hand was a bloody sword. The ghost looked quite solid and tangible, but he stepped through the wall with no difficulty, and he was then in the Olaf’s chambers with the rest of the heroes. In a chilling voice he gave them a dire ultimatum.
“My killers slaughtered my entire family and household in the name of your heathen skanzi gods. They are responsible for my curse and my pain. Now you dare to trespass in my home bearing your pagan symbols.”
“I offer you one chance to save yourselves.”
“Swear on your souls that you will slay the last scion of the Gunderson clan, so that I may finally find peace. Do this and you may leave this place without further harm. Do it not and you will all die here by my hand.”
“What say you?”
By this point, Bella had become quite convinced that they had made a mistake. Flagg’s possessed had not laired in the keep, and coming here had been an unnecessary risk. All she wanted now was to be on her way, and if cutting a deal with the ghost would allow her to escape with her life than she was all for it.
Unfortunately for her, the rest of the heroes were not so eager to sacrifice their honor, particularly Bjorn and Darren. As was becoming a pattern, Darren made a couple of comments that proved offensive to the ghost, and Lord Bryne attacked. He instantly proved to be a deadly fighter. His blade easily passed through armor and drained the very life force of his foes. None of the heroes were interested in trying to fight an undead foe that had nearly killed an entire skanzi clan.
Bella and Bjorn both called for a retreat, and they made their way towards the tower. Torfinn and Bjorn used their divine powers to burn the ghost with holy radiance and force it back out of the room, but they knew the tactic would only delay it for a moment. They took advantage of the opportunity and fled up the tower and onto the ramparts.
They reached the top of the next tower, and rigged up a grappling hook and rope. Their goal was to climb down and take their chances with the mists. Bella began to climb down into the strange mist.
Then Lord Bryne was back. He rose up through the floor of the tower and laughed as he noted they were trying to escape.
“You cannot escape this place, only death awaits you in the mists. Stand here with honor and fight. Let it be my blade that kills you.”
Torfinn, had a terrible feeling that the words he spoke were no bluff. He called for Bella to climb back up the rope, but it was too late. She had already entered the mist. Suddenly she screamed, and it sounded as though she had lost her grip on the rope. There was a dull thud as she hit the ground far below.
In anger Torfinn lashed out, hurling Thor’s lightning at the ghost. Darren and Bjorn called out their own battle cries and rushed the fiend. It was difficult to tell how much effect their weapons were having on the creature, for it was not a thing of flesh and blood. Still, their attacks seemed to be causing some discomfort, and that reassured them that perhaps it could be at least temporarily destroyed. They could think of few other options. It was too late to resume negotiations, and escape into the mist seemed impossible. Yet, battling the ghost in melee was a horrific endeavor. It was fast and skilled with its ghostly sword. If it had not been for Bjorn’s healing magic, they surely would have had their life forces drained completely.
Meanwhile, in the mists, Bella found her mind assaulted by psychic horror. It was as though the ghosts of all the Bryne clan that had been slain by the Gunderson’s were lurking in the fog, and they were all screaming in her head, transferring their agony to her. This had caused her to let go of the rope. Fortunately, Bella was like a cat, and even though she fell, she managed to catch onto the rope at the last second and land on her feet, taking little damage from what might have been a deadly fall.
She raced through the mist, hoping to escape. The ghosts still screamed in her head, making it feel like it might burst. She hoped that she might find her way out. Then she heard Torfinn calling her name. His voice seemed distant, but it was calling her back, telling her that there was no escape and that she must find the rope. Bella followed his voice, and still the ghosts in the mist ate at her mind and soul. The terror nearly overwhelmed her. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before, and she felt as though she might fall dead on the spot. Her legs were shaking, and she could barely stand. She felt cold, so cold. But she was a survivor, and she was determined to live. She followed the sound of Torfinn’s voice. She could see nothing. Then her hand made contact with the solid stone of the watchtower. She felt her way along, and the gods were with her. Suddenly she felt the rope. She knew she was nearly dead. She reached into her belt pouch and removed a single magical potion of healing. She drank it down, and it probably saved her life. It wasn’t near enough to fully restore her, but it at least it gave her the strength to attempt to climb the rope.
Up on the tower top, Darren and Bjorn continued to do battle with Lord Bryne, while Torfinn supported them by conjuring a holy wall of light for them to stand within. They were not faring well. Lord Bryne seemed virtually unstoppable, and he had inflicted terrible wounds on the two warriors. However, Torffin’s wall of light gave them strength, and as long as they stood in it, they received its vigor. Furthermore, they had caused pain to the ghost as well. Yet victory still seemed far from their grasp.
Torfinn then realized that Bella had made it to the rope. He could see the rope being pulled taught, and he knew that she was trying to climb. But the fog had taken its toll, and she wasn’t making any progress. He knew that if he didn’t help her, she would die down in the mist. He also knew that if he didn’t keep hurling his magic at the ghost, his other friends would likely fall soon as well. However, Bella seemed to be in more imminent danger. He reached down and grabbed the rope, and mustering all his strength, he began to pull her up. Somewhere in the back of his mind he cursed his mortal weakness. Vague memories of divinity haunted him. What had he done to be cast out of Vahalla? What had he done to be forced to wear this mortal shell? Whatever it was, he could not remember. However, the passion of the gods was still strong within him, and he used that passion to give him strength. He pulled with all his might, and Bella did her best to climb. Suddenly, her head emerged from the mist. She was looking pale and weak, but she managed to climb up over the battlement and raise her crossbow.
By this time, Bjorn and Darren were in dire need of help. Lord Bryne had nearly finished them. It was only Torfinn’s sustained wall of holy light, and the constant flow of vigor that it was providing, that had enabled them to remain standing. Torfinn and Bella rushed to their aid. Bella raised her crossbow and fired, placing a deadly bolt in the ghost’s head while Torfinn again blasted him with lightning. Darren and Bjorn had caused the ghost their fair share of injuries, and now with all four of the heroes focused on the horror, it found itself hard pressed. The ghost would never consider fleeing, and it was determined to take at least one hero with it. However, this proved not to be. Though it came very close, the heroes prevailed and the ghost was dissipated.
With Lord Bryne gone, the mist retreated into the earth, and the temperature returned to normal. The heroes found themselves free to tend to their wounds and explore the remainder of the keep. In the great hall they found the slaughtered remains of the Gunderson clan, along with Olaf’s head sitting on the hall’s great trestle table. Among the dead was the corpse of Lord Gunder. They liberated the body of its silver armbands, sword and ring of keys. The keys proved to be a boon, as they gave the heroes access to the keep’s treasury, and their they found the wealth of the Gunderson clan, which consisted of valuable gems and jewelry along with gold and silver. It was the most valuable treasure horde they had ever discovered.
The heroes plundered the keep and they took carefully moved the loot to Alsferth’s ship, for there was still a Gunderson in the town with a small retinue of warriors, and it seemed likely that he would try to claim the horde for himself if he discovered the heroes were in possession of it. They managed to keep their wealth hidden, and soon they had set sail.
Their attempts to find the lair of the possessed had failed at the keep, but they still suspected one might be nearby. Torfinn cast a Hand of Fate ritual, and from the spell they learned that the lair was actually south of Brynsted. Thus, they traveled down along the coast of Diamond Lake by ship, keeping a look out for any signs. It wasn’t long before they spotted the remains of some abandoned farmsteds nestled by the shore of the lake. They docked the ship and began their search. This time luck was with them, and inside the ruins of one of the buildings they found a large sack that held four of the golden skulls. All the skulls were “active”. They brought them back to the ship, and tied the sack to a sturdy rope. They tied the other end of the rope to the ship and cast the sack overboard. They did not trust it on board with them, so it would drag along behind them submerged beneath the water.
They prayed to the gods that soon they would be in Grimsburg.
A journal from Darren Androsax regarding game session #6 and the party's escapades in Grimsburg.
Dear Corvin,
Grimsburg, at last! I am writing you on the eve of a great battle – who knows if I will ever put quill to parchment again. It was good seeing you, and mother and father, too. Please keep Deryl safe here while my friends and I confront the odious and possessed Flagg.
There are a few things I wanted you to know for our work in the Vale. It is a place of great dangers and even greater opportunities. Destiny calls us there, and if I should fall, ever I hope to have made the road more hospitable to you and our descendants, older brother. Why this talk of doom and gloom? Has my soul been infused with a holier purpose than wine, women and song? Perhaps. But it may also be a basic fear. To defeat Flagg, our irksome benefactor Starke has suggested we confront him in his new inventions – clockwork suits of armour that belch gouts of alchemical fire. It is hard at times to tell genius from madness.
And Starke is both – I am afraid. He displayed his wife like a sculpture and artefact – her nude flesh was beautiful, but marred by the strange arm he had grafted to her. It left me longing for simpler times, and magics connected to the gods and primal spirits. There is some deep foulness behind his easy manner – but we still owe him gold by the thousands – actually 2,250 pieces to be exact. And he is the lesser of two evils, for now.
I was able to tell you of our adventures in Bryne Keep, but let me update you on the rest. Starke had revealed a casual interest in the skulls, and was given one by a mysterious stranger – some old man with an obscure message for our friend Torfinn, something about his exile on earth and being a herald of Ragnarok. Nonsense, or so I thought. Torfinn is a dreamy lad, full of good intentions. The skull was given over to Starke’s arcanist Flagg, who presumably became possessed and followed his demon heart to the temple with the elemental eye upon it. There he liberated the remaining skulls and distributed them gleefully to followers and victims on the road. As I said, we face him tomorrow.
Other research proved more beguiling. I made my way to the great Library of Skaldsholme to research the symbol of the eye wreathed in flames. Good old Betelbriar the archivist lead me to an inner sanctum. You know how much time I spent in the library, pleading for access to the more forbidden records. Well, there i was, in marbled domes amongst red velour and noble book-cases. It had that intoxicating smell of parchment and glue, wood polish and incense. And then, in deep robes and all the grandeur of the Sturglesons, my eyes lay upon her ... chief librarian Brianna. I nearly gave up the life of adventuring then and there. She seemed excited, too. Perhaps it was the symbol of the eye, or the way she drew out the thick, bony scroll case, slowly, wrapping her delicate hands around the shaft before procuring its forbidden contents. We examined its milk white pages greedily, quickly, with the hushed urgency of badly behaved children.
Two texts appeared in our hands– the first is a poem about the end of the world, the second a description of how to create the skulls. Sacrifices, exposure to the stars, and the whole damned malign purpose of them: to release the great beast of end times upon the world with each death of the skull-bearer. Once a skull has possessed a person, and that person is slaughtered, the dark cloud of evil is awakened, freed and released by an ever increasing degree. How then to ensure that the last few skulls remain unused? Will Starke prove the stronger than his henchman Flagg?
I had a dream the other night of Starke holding a great golden apple, riddled with black worms, plunging it into my chest. When I looked down, my torso had been replaced with a clock. Then Bjorn came and threw a hammer atop me. The last thing I remember is the hammer catching fire.
Let us hope, brother, that I am no more gifted with prophecy than you are gifted with smooth-talking the maidens.
Your Brother,
Derren
From the Codex Hereticum of Rao
... thus did the precepts of Rao uncover the Malletus Infernum, a sect of sun-god worshippers who blended ideas of justice and wrath from one of the northern smith-gods. The thirty members were easy to discover as they had used the inks of the Shallam-razar to decorate their bodies with sun and hammer motifs. Twenty-one members repented and seven zealots were burned at the dais of the god. Two escaped in the year 548 CE, but the cult is presumed lost to time.
This is an entry from Bella. It doesn't really relate to any events that actually took place in the game session, but it still serves to develop her character.
Session 6 - Cullen
It was only upon crossing the doors threshold that I realized how much I missed my room/workshop at Starke’s Mansion. My fingers graced the familiar tools upon my workbench and I couldn’t help but think how good it would be to craft a new weapon. Having acquired some wealth with the Androsax children I will ask Starke to send one of his artificers to magically endow ToD with the chill of the grave, I would be most interested in watching the ritual having just recently gained the gift of understanding magic.
It came as a shock when I passed the mirror and saw Cullen hovering in the reflection just over my shoulder. As you remember Cullen was an imaginary friend of mine that sometimes still visits me in my dreams. He takes the form of a small impish creature with wings made entirely of crystal. I even made a replica of him that I carry with me always. My hand flew to it now, only to find it missing.
“I am sorry my Lady, sweet Lady, do not be angry with me”, the homunculus implored, “Your powers grow, so I will soon be able to join you in this world to help you”
“Cullen?”, I responded in a shocked whisper, “but you have only come to me in my dreams before”
“Yes this is true, oh my lady I do not have long so I beg of you to listen to your most humble servant. I am your familiar, until now you have not had the ability to bring me into the world but the time for that is coming soon.”
“You are real? ”
“Yes and no, sweet Lady. You will soon have the ability to craft me from the arcane energies that grow inside of you. I will be able to scout for you, gathering information for you about dangerous places. Though I will be real, I am not a living being and cannot be killed.”
“I will be able to create you? How will I know how to do that?”
“When the time comes my lady, it will come naturally. I very much look forward to being in your service. Oh my Lady I am sorry but our time is short but I will see you again soon.”
With that the ghostly image faded.
I stood in front of the mirror is shock for quite some time before coming to my senses. I almost believed I imagined it and yet I knew it had happened. Reaching into Cullen’s resting place I found the miniature statuette had returned. Looking at it closely it was obvious that it was not in the same position as when I had originally carved it. This is something that I was already used to as having looked at it after having dreams of Cullen I would find that the statues, although stationary when observed seems to shift positions when no one is looking.
So, Cullen would be able to assist me in the real world soon. I could see immediately how that could be useful. The only problem being that I would have to tell my companions about my limited abilities as a sorceress. I loathe giving up any of my secrets to anyone, but having a familiar may be worth the risk. I will think on it tonight, perhaps Cullen will be able to advise me in my dreams.
It is going to be an interesting day.
In Grimsburg:
The heroes arrived in Grimsburg in early afternoon on the 20th of April 720 CE. They parted ways with the merchant Alsferth and headed for Androsax manor. There they found that a few of Starke’s debt collectors/thugs were chatting with Lord and Lady Androsax. Poor lady Androsax was about to turn over some jewelry that had been passed through her family for generations when Darren arrived on the scene. He turned over a large portion of the treasure he’d acquired from Bryne Keep and that was enough to keep the debt collectors happy and send them on their way back to Starke. The heroes dropped off their supplies and treasure, and they left Deryl to stay with her family, even though tensions between them were tight. They also discovered that Flagg had come to Grimsburg and that there had been many killings in the farmhouses outside he city walls during the past few nights. As of the previous night, dead bodies had been found within the city walls. The citizens of Grimsburg were quickly moving towards outright panic and hysteria, for the body count was rising by the day.
From Androsax manor, they made their way across Grimsburg to the district known as the Styes. This part of town was a vast slum that sprawled out over several islands that sat at the mouth of Nentir river. It had once been a beautiful and affluent part of town, but over the years that had changed. It had gone into decline and was now home to the city’s most disreputable folk. This was where Starke made his home. Starke’s compound consumed one of the little islands utterly. It was many things. First and foremost is was a fortress of stone and iron. Secondly, it was a virtual factory, for its bowels were filled with workshops belonging to Starke. Here his artificer apprentices toiled away helping him with his various projects. Finally, the place was his home, and up above the workshops and fortifications sat a beautiful villa with a lavish piazza. Security to Starke’s compound was tight; several guards were stationed at the gear operated, iron lift bridge that led to the place’s only visible entrance. The guards were well trained and equipped and accompanied by clockwork hounds. Fortunately, Bella was on favorable terms with Starke, and he’d been expecting her. The heroes were allowed entry, and they were taken up to the villa where they awaited Starke in a beautifully appointed sitting room.
An hour later they met with Starke. He was a handsome, well dressed man with a plumed hat. The meeting with Starke went well. He was in good spirits and pleased that Bella had managed to recover a few of the skulls. He indicated that he had a role in the affair, for he had been given the original golden skull by a mysterious stranger. He then turned the skull over to Flagg to study, and Flagg had been possessed by the item. Starke agreed to help the heroes. He sent out a small flock of clockwork birds to watch the city from the skies, and he informed the PCs that with the help of his constructs he would locate Flagg’s lair. He asked that they return the next morning, promising to offer the location of Flagg’s lair and to help ready them for their confrontation with the man.
After their visit with Starke, the heroes paid a visit to the library at Skaldsholme. There they found a interesting scroll that detailed how the skulls were created and a prophecy that was associated with them. From their research they were able to deduce that the skulls were created by the Cult of Elemental Eye and that victims of the murders committed by the possessed all served to help give a being known as the Slumberer the strength to fully awaken and enter into the world. The scrolls suggested that even the gods fear this entity, and that it may have the power to obliterate he world and the gods themselves. Clearly preventing this from happening was a task of monumental importance.
That night they slept in Androsax manor and guarded the family from the threat of the possessed. Bella was the exception. She returned to her workshop in Starke’s compound, and realized just how much she had missed it. Luckily for heroes, the night passed uneventfully. Unfortunately for the people of Grimsburg, the possessed haunted Grimsburg’s street and slaughtered close to 200 hundred civilians.
The next morning the heroes returned to Starke’s compound. As promised, Starke’s clockwork birds had managed to locate Flagg’s lair. Furthermore, he escorted them to one of his workshops, and there he showed them one of his private projects. He had forged several suites of clockwork plate armor, and he was willing to allow them to use the technology as a weapon to aid them in their final confrontation with this most deadly foe. The armor had proved highly effective during testing, but this would be the first time it would be used in the field, and it would be their duty to report how effective it proved to be…
A letter from Darren Androsax regarding game session #7
Dear Corvin,
Flagg is dead. It was a brutal fight at the edge of the Styes, deep within a Church of Rao – but after nearly escaping us, I found his his body atop the stairs. His throat was slashed by a dagger, the wound covered with a sprig of mistletoe and his mouth bore a coin of Loki. I searched for his killer, but in vain – whatever it was could disappear from the sight of a dozen guards.
While it is a victory, and while Surtur Sturgleson himself thanked us with a banquet (at last!), there are so many unanswered questions. His daughter Brianna wishes to send an expedition into the Vale to investigate the Temple of the Elemental Eye further. She so enlightens my spirit, I believe Bella has become jealous. She even called Brianna a tart and tried to impress me with a belt of potions. It is beautifully crafted, I’ll admit – and I would die fighting alongside the Lady Nightshade – but seriously, she needs a man.
Only I think the man she loves is no longer a man. He is more a heart of gears and mind-forged manacles. When I dared suggest that his inventions were witchcraft, his flesh stripped away to reveal his true body – a hideous construct of arcane cogs and eldritch cranks. She almost admits that Starke is evil, and that his eyes are everywhere – but can he read this? I think not! Thanks for teaching me the trick of sending messages in secret, brother. So between us, as we have long planned, I will continue to act the fool and work for the man. The time will come when the Androsaxes will be powerful enough again to claim what is ours. I will not lick his boots – others seem all too willing to lap the grime of evil.
And the Church of Rao continues to draw me into their embrace. I can feel it, though am unwilling to part with the gods of the North – they too have a place under the sun. Have you found out anything about the Malletus Infernum yet?
That leaves me to another brief farewell. Our next adventure takes us to an auction in Alastar. Sounds easy enough. But then again ... wish us luck.
Your brother,
Derren
Game Session #7 part #1, GM notes:
In this past session the PCs finally confronted Flagg in what was their most deadly combat to date.
Starke advised them to pay a visit to Sturgleson castle so that they might get the aid of the town guard, for it seemed likely that there would be at least 30 possessed in the lair. Even with their elemental powered, clockwork armor they would be overwhelmed and slaughtered by the horde. They would need help, and Starke was not willing to contribute his own forces to the fight. Darren tried to guilt Starke into loaning his men, but his pleas fell on deaf ears and only served to wear on Starke’s patience. They were soon sent on their way. Bella tried to warn Darren that he was pushing his limits with her boss. In fact, she was surprised that Starke put up with as much shit from him as he did. Normally, Starke didn’t stand for even a hint of insolence. She pondered why his tolerance for the young man was so high, but came up with no answer.
They made their way through the city towards the castle. The place was degenerating into chaos. Flagg’s possessed had murdered scores of citizens the night before, and bodies were still being hauled out of gutters and alleyways. Hundreds of panicked folk crowded the streets, grieving and seeking answers. They thronged around the churches, and priests of the both Rao and the Skanzi Gods did what they could to ease their anguish.
On their way to Sturgleson castle, they visited the Skaldsholm library. There, Darren managed to garner another audience with Jarl Sturgleson’s daughter Brianna, the high archivist. He convinced her with surprising ease to accompany them to the castle to lend weight to the direness of his tale.
The young noble’s good fortune took a turn from the worse as he passed through the temple district. He was accosted by three knights of the Gold Lion- a knightly order dedicated to Roa’s prophet Amra. They recognized his Sun Templar cloak, even though he’d removed the sacred badge, and they demanded that he explain how he got it and that he turn it over to them so that they might return it to the church. He managed to convince them that he would give it back as soon as he finished his battle with Flagg and the possessed, which he told them all about. This strategy proved rewarding because he managed to convince them to gather their brethren and help the heroes defeat the fiends, turning what could have been a dangerous conflict into a boon for the party.
Soon they had met with Jarl Sturgleson and his son Leofric who was the captain of the city guard. With Briannah’s help they explained what was responsible for the mass murders and rallied the guard to help them destroy their enemy. After the meeting, Jarl Sturgleson had a private meeting with Bjorn. He had realized that Starke was helping the heroes, and he wished to recruit Bjorn to spy on Starke for him. The jarl feared Starke, for Starke had a fortress that was at least as well defended as Sturgleson castle, and he had many forces including constructs. Few people could provide much real information about the man, and Sturgleson considered him a great threat to his position in the city. Bjorn agreed to help the Jarl, and promised he’d gather what information he could.
Thanks to the work of Starke’s clockwork birds the night before, they had been able to learn where Flagg was hiding during the day. His lair was in a catacomb beneath on old temple of Rao in the Styes. The temple no longer functioned as such. It had been converted into an indoor black market and the catacombs were presumably abandoned other than local street urchins, which Flagg surely would have slaughtered.
The entrance to the catacombs was from a lower boardwalk below the level of the main buildings on the island it sat on in the Styes. The heroes had a score of Golden Lion Knights and about one hundred members of the city guard to help them. They were quite a procession as they marched through the streets of the Styes. The heroes were wearing the clockwork plate armor provided to them by Starke, and people lined the streets to watch them pass. As they neared the catacombs something concerning happened. Suddenly, each hero’s armor had a slight malfunction. It was as if the elemental bound to the armor to act as its power source had tried to escape its arcane bonds, causing a backlash of elemental energy that wounded each of the characters. The elementals were not secure, but the heroes needed the armor, so they prayed that things would not get worse and they pressed on.
They had several of the guards position themselves outside the temple and the catacomb entrance in case any of the possessed tried to escape. Then they entered the catacombs followed by the knights of the Golden Lion and many more members of the guard. The plan was that they would seek out Flagg while the knights and the guard dealt with the possessed. It would be a tough fight, and many guards and knights would surely die, but at leas the numbers were now more in their favor.
A journal from Bella
Session 7: Capture the Flagg
We had caught up with Flagg, and Starke generously donated experimental suits to aid us in defeating him. They were instrumental in our victory but they could have used some fine-tuning before being used in the field.
Starke used his mechanical scouts to follow Flagg’s minions back to an abandoned temple of Rao. Every night they would pour out of the structure into the city spreading death in their wake. We had already wasted a night in resting and only had a day to prepare before more lives were lost.
Derren surprised me. Starke had told us to seek the help of Sturgleson, but on Darren’s suggestion we made our way to the library. Although he was led there partially by his libido he also had what turned out to be a very good reason to go. The head librarian there was the daughter of the mayor, if we could convince her of how dire the situation was it would be easier to get the help of the mayor. It was a sound plan, so we followed him.
On our way there a trio of Golden Lion Knights waylaid us. The cloak that we had claimed from the bodies of fallen defenders in Winterhaven was of their kin and they wished to take it back. Once again Derren’s glib tongue was a boon rather than a curse. He was able to convince them to let him keep the cloak at least until after we were able to defeat Flagg. Not only that, Derren proved his worth by convincing them to join the fight. It was almost like he was another person. For once, I was impressed by the man.
Derren was able to convince the librarian that we would be able to save the city, and her clout helped us convince the mayor who committed many of the city guard to our growing army. Now prepared, we had nothing to do but claim our suits from Starke and begin the siege. Starke wished a report and I have included it here:
To put it plainly Victor, I do not know whether these hindered us more than helped us. As soon as we reached Flagg’s hideout we started experiencing problems. If I were to guess it may have something to do with the way that the Elemental had been bonded to the armor. Every few seconds the suit would send painful shocks through my body, especially when jostled in the heat of battle. A suit that injures its wearer every few seconds is useless. If these contraptions are to be viable you will need to find a way to bind the elemental better. At the end of the battle, Torfinn’s elemental had even managed to escape.
It was not a long report; it did not need to be; though I felt it should be longer than saying: We would have done better putting on suits of rusted scrap.
The fight started in the crypts, we were attacked by a large contingent of Flagg’s troops. Our own army engaged them and we cut through quickly into the inner chamber. There we were greeted by more of Flagg’s possessed and something new- a possessed, beserker ogre. I was able to place some good shots, which only drew its attention to me. Luckily, I had been able to damage it enough that one of my allies brought it down just as it was about to charge me.
It was then that Flagg appeared, a feral beast of a man with a very large axe. His first target was me and he leapt towards me unexpectedly burying his axe into my shoulder and knocking me down. I knew I could not face him alone, after picking myself up my only choice was to try to run. Unfortunately my desperate escape proved to be my downfall, the last thing I saw was Flagg’s axe descending to cleave me before I fell.
When I awoke again Torfinn was standing over me holding an empty potion. The fight seemed almost over to my addled mind. After ensuring that I was stable he rushed back into battle. The suit continued to shock me as I got to my legs, seriously Victor these things are crap and barely any good in a fight, you have to strengthen the bonds used to trap the elemental to the power core.
Flagg was badly wounded and Torfinn, Bjorn and Derren were closing in; the boys were wounded as well but they had our prey outnumbered. Flagg’s eyes shot towards the other room as he heard singing, waiting only long enough to confirm that the Golden Lion Knights had been victorious and were now coming to our aid, with several parting shots and an impossible leap Flagg exited the room and started running up the stair deeper into the chamber, Derren leapt up after him and gave chase, disappearing up the stairs.
Flagg had been able to strike down both Bjorn and Torfinn before escaping. Yelling at our re-enforcements for a medic I climbed out of the accursed suit and ran to help my comrades. We had to pry Torfinn out of his suit as his elemental had fled, but both him and the cleric were up and nursing their wounds when Derren returned. Flagg was dead, but not by Darren’s hand. Someone had killed him quick enough to not been seen by the pursuing party and escaped a dead end room leaving only tokens of Loki as clues.
The day had been won but not entirely by us, and considering the mark of our benefactor on Flagg’s body, I fear we may have a new foe to face rather than a friend. I look forward to a long rest and the soothing task of crafting at my workshop. Perhaps some new potion belts for the group, I am sure I saw an ancient Bal Thur design in one of Starke’s books. I will also talk to Derren about his attitude, the fool seems intent on killing himself, but I can’t let him commit suicide without some warning. At least not until after his debt has been paid.
I did spend most of the following days in my room, and I am pleased to report that I was finally able to master manifesting my familiar, Cullen. Though a little late for this mission I am sure he will prove his worth in the future. He is a scout homunculus and made entirely of crystal and is about the size of a small rodent. When not flying around, he takes the form of a simple crystal statuette I had made during my time as a blacksmith. The only regret I have is that I will no longer be able to easily disguise the fact that I am a sorceress, but I feel the benefits out-weigh the potential problems.
Journal – Bjorn Thorskirk
It is good to be back in Grimsberg, even if the events that brought us back are less than pleasant. Arriving it was decided to secure the skulls we found and set off for the Androsax home. We arrived as they were being visited by Starke's debt collectors. After a few tense moments Darren paid them a sum and they left. It was probably as well we were there as it could have gone badly. Darren is still very rash and tends to put his mouth into action before engaging his brain. I hope he lives long enough to learn some discretion. The life we live is not the most forgiving.
We also learned that the city is under nightly attacks from Flagg and his creatures. Bella urged us to make our first order of business our to report to Starke. After encountering some of his men at the Androsax's it made sense not to delay the meeting as he would shortly learn of our return. It will be interesting to meet this Starke as Bella and the Androsax's have said little about him. I also can see they have very differing opinions about him, though I imagine the Androsax's indebtedness has something to do with this. Amazing how people in their pride shift the blame for their own doing to others.
The meeting with Starke was interesting and disturbing, He seems a completely mad artificer going so far as to replace one of his wife's arms with a clock work construct appendage. Yet he also runs a successful enterprise that skirts the law if not outright ignores it. There must be more to him, and I should be careful. He informed us that he had created some armour to help us in our battle with Flagg and that we would most likely need it.
There was also a message for Torffin that seemed to unsettle him. I know not what his past holds, but I do know of his actions now and will offer my support to him, which brings to mind Darren. How can I support Torffin regardless of his past and at the same time hold Darren's family past against him? It would be wrong of me to do so. As such, I resolve to give Darren the benefit of the doubt until he declares his intention.
Before facing Flagg it was decided that we should attempt to find out more about the skulls and the faith of the flaming Eye. To this end we split up Darren went to the archives and Torrfin and I the Church to see what we could find. Darren was the more successful finding a description of the ceremony to prepare the skulls and a fragment of semi prophetic eddic verse warning of the possibility end of times. There were also indications that the Trickster may be involved which could complicate things further.
We soon go to gather forces to put an end to Flagg and his monsters so I end here for now.
Another journal from Bella
After all the time on the road my days back in my shop should have been relaxing but something is happening to me and it was Cullen that helped me discover it. Manifesting my familiar had made me elated, after first bringing him into being I was anxious not to dissipate him again, afraid I wouldn’t be able to bring him back.
It happened when I was changing. Cullen flew up into my face wringing his hands and avoiding my eyes as usual.
“Mistress, forgive your humble servant this question, but there is a mark on your back and your arcane power courses through it.”
Hearing that my blood ran cold. Being a changeling I had complete control over my appearance and given this persona’s need for obscurity I had no birthmarks, nothing to differentiate her besides being another pretty face. To hear that there was something on my back that I had not put there was terrifying.
I rushed to the mirror to look. It was faded but still distinct, it looked like a backwards ‘Y’. My heart raced as I realized what I had to do. I couldn’t wait till I was out of sight of Victor’s prying eyes. Ever since I moved in here I’m sure the pervert watches me sleep, but this was important and he couldn’t be watching all the time.
I pulled mirror behind my changing screen into the corner and in a moment I was the Lady Reanna, a persona I had adopted to get closer to Starke when I first arrived in the city. The mark was still there. A thin sheen of sweat broke out over my skin. Quickly I undressed and changed again, this time into Darrak Ironfounderson, a male dwarf persona I had taken on to learn the secrets of their blacksmithing. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the mark persisted. Finally I became my true shape and after several minutes I was able to breathe again when I saw that the mark did not disappear.
I changed back into my current persona and fell upon my bed my mind racing. This must have something to do with me being a sorceress, finally my abilities had cursed me.
I search Starke’s libraries to try and find out what the unnatural mark means and check it everyday for changes…it is darkening as each day passes …hopefully that is not a portent of things to come.
Preface: A couple of weeks have passed since the Flagg and his possessed minions were defeated. The heroes have spent the time in Grimsburg resting and recovering from their adventures. In a recent conversation with her patron Viktor Starke, Bella received a new mission. Starke has asked her to lead an expedition to the Nerathi mainland. She is to go to a town on the mainland’s northwestern coast called Alaster. There she will be representing Starke at an auction being run by hobgoblin merchants from the Kazanki empire. He has provided her with all the information she needs for the mission including a description of the item he’s interested in. Four of his men are to accompany her, and she has been provided with a sea captain who will be transporting them to Alaster on his Knarr. She has also opted to recruit her former adventuring companions for the job, as they have proven themselves to be valuable companions.
PCs
Bella (changeling rogue/sorceress 4)
Darren Androsax (human, fighter 4)
Deryl Androsax (human, sorceress 3)
Bjorn (human, cleric 4)
Torfinn (Deva, Invoker 3)
Bella's journal Session 8: There’s a Storm Coming
Victor,
Everything was going smoothly. We are a week into our journey and my only problem was that Tarl was a lazy, useless piece of skin; he followed orders though and Harg kept him in line; it was nothing I couldn’t handle. The North Sea is known for being rough and this proved true, a storm appeared in front of us that Captain Garn has told me would kill us if we attempted sail through it. Fortunately we still had plenty of time before the auction so I acquiesced to his experience and took his advice that we find a safe shore and wait for the storm to pass.
The nearest shore turned out to be anything but safe. A Nerathi village was near where we were trying to beach the ship, and the local lord and his militia greeted us. Although not friendly by any means, I thought I had been able to negotiate a temporary peace so that we could rest until the storm passed. He agreed to let us stay and even seemed interested in trading with our sea captain. He had the cargo unloaded into the village tavern and allowed us to sleep on its floor. Derren whined of course, still holding onto a lordling’s pride even though the arrangement was more than I expected from a people with obvious animosity towards us.
That doesn’t mean I trusted them. I had Tarl watch the boat on the shore and Cullen watching Tarl. The peasants were asked to leave to give us our privacy but Derren bought them all a round of drinks. I did not drink or eat anything anything I was given, though I sent food down to Tarl and allowed my men to partake and enjoy. Bjorn agreed with me, having brought his own food and drink with him. Derren was more trusting, drinking himself into trouble. The peasants cleared out of the inn as the sun set; they were a dispirited lot. Bjorn was just as cautious as I was. He started barricading the door soon after the last of them left. It was early into the night that we became aware that the food and drink we’d been given was poisoned. It wasn’t a deadly poison, but it did serve to make those who had consumed any fall into a near catatonic sleep. At that point we realized that our suspicions were correct and something was amiss. The tavern keeper’s daughter, affirmed our fears by trying to secretly warn us that her father was working with lord Vance to drug us so that the lord could catch us off guard.
Shortly after learning of our dire situation, Cullen returned in a panic. My familiar reported that a small devil-like creature had slit Tarl’s throat after he had fallen asleep on watch duty at the beach. Perhaps the arcane power growing has made me bolder, but my first instinct was to run out and face our enemy. Bjorn was more level headed; he suggested that we remain in the inn, as it was a more defensible position. I could easily see he was right, so we stayed. I sent Cullen to scout, for the most part the village was empty but what he found in the village’s church was worrying, a humanoid devil, it would seem we were to be made into a sacrifice.
I sent Cullen out to guard our perimeter and started waking everyone up. We did not have long to wait. Soon the town’s militia with their lord, and his son and nephew closed in on the building. They burst through the back door and the front only to find us awake and fully armed when they expected us to be sleeping.
The Lord’s son lead the charge and Darren managed to get a sword to his throat when after Bjorn beat him on the back with is warhammer when he came through the door. Derren tried to negotiate our safe release, using the prisoner as a hostage, but his father would have none of it, he didn’t seem to care much for his child. Upon renewing their attack the Lord’s son was the first casualty. They had us outnumbered but we had them outclassed, bottlenecked and surprised by our combat readiness they died quickly. Deryl proved to be the most effective, taking down entire groups of warriors in devastating arcane attacks. We soon had them retreating to the church with no losses of our own.
On my insistence we rested at the tavern before tackling the devil in the church. Deryl wanted to go to the Lord’s Palace, but the rest of us insisted on taking on the devil in the church first. When we were ready we made our way to the front door.
Derren held us up a little recovering the Lord’s horse, he said that it would be instrumental in the fight; personally I think that he’s just been envious of his sister’s horse. Derren led the charge into the church. Luckily, the initial attack had contained the majority of the Devil’s forces and few remained. Androsax rode his horse through the front line of foot soldiers and doing a flying leap landed in front of the devil. It was impressive, but strategically unsound. Now the foolish fighter was facing the toughest challenge in the room and was far from re-enforcements. Based solely on his tactics the Gods must be smiling on him, it surprises me everyday that he still lives. The battle was less climatic then I thought it would be, despite his arrogance the devil was dispatched quickly, and I am satisfied to say I had the pleasure of delivering him the killing shot.
We now only need to search the rest of the village and after the storm passes we should still have plenty of time to make it to the auction. Everything is going as smoothly as can be expected.
Belladonna
I forgot to mention a couple of things regarding session #7 and the final fight against Flagg. It was certainly the toughest fight the heroes had faced. They had fought their way through several possessed, while a huge battle between the remainder of the possessed and the watch raged around them, to get to the section of the catacombs where Flagg had been hiding.
Flagg first sent in more of his minions, including an ogre that had been possessed by one of the golden skulls. This proved to a tough fight, and it was made worse when Flagg began reigning fire magic down on them from a balcony that looked over the room they had been fighting in. Their elemental powered clockwork armor helped protect them from the fire, but they were hampered by the fact that the elementals did not seem to be fully bound to the armor and were causing them trouble with electrical backlash and gears jamming in the suites (they thought that I was very evil to give them cool homebrewed power armor that fired blasts of fire and electricity and then have it malfunction on them in a harmful way. It was very paranoiaeque for those familiar with that fine rpg). At any rate, they did their best against Flagg, but they were battle weary, and he was extremely fast and hearty (high defenses and plenty of hp). At some point during the course of the fight each PC was reduced to negative hp, and by the time guard and Gold Lion knights had finished dealing with the possessed and come to help the PCs there both Torfinn and Bjorn were unconscious. Darren and Bella were both badly wounded as well. Luckily Flagg decided to retreat at this point. Darren pursued Flagg up a flight of spiral stairs that led to an abandoned church of Rao that sat above the catacombs. However, when he reached the top of the stairs he found that Flagg was already dead. His golden skull was missing and there was a sprig of mistletoe in his mouth and gold coin with the symbol of Loki sitting on his chest.
If I had pushed a little harder and been real nasty I could have landed a kill or two, but I showed some uncharacteristic mercy. They each got beaten within inches of their lives, but they persevered in the end, and I think they were satisfied with the overall outcome, even if they didn't manage to land the killing blow. They knew going in that they were a little over their heads, so I think they were just happy that they managed to escape with their lives.
If I had pushed a little harder and been real nasty I could have landed a kill or two, but I showed some uncharacteristic mercy. They each got beaten within inches of their lives, but they persevered in the end, and I think they were satisfied with the overall outcome, even if they didn't manage to land the killing blow. They knew going in that they were a little over their heads, so I think they were just happy that they managed to escape with their lives.
Amen.
Darren's journal from session 8
Dear Corvin,
We have been delayed at the treacherous town of Tarlane on the Western coast of old Nerath. This side of the North Sea is grey, bleak and fierce. The way was choppy and all those years sailing to the villa did nothing to quench my nausea. Still, I hoisted ropes with the captain’s lads and was all too happy when a storm forced us ashore. We met a local lord who had heard nothing of the Androsax name. Nerath seems a backwards place, at times – ironic, isn’t it?
The whole town was sullen, and it was deeper than the rain. I thought to cheer the villagers up by buying a round in their tavern, but only the barman’s daughter took kindly to me. It reminded me of that time we went wenching in Stratfjord on Avondar. But I digress. They brew strong stuff, because before too long, I was out. Deryl or someone eventually woke me up in the tavern – it had become dark, and my friends were all tense. After wiping some sour waters off my face, I gathered that some little devilish creature was spotted around our ship down on the shore below. We had landed in a town of devil worshippers!
Things remain hazy, but I remember Bjorn and I positioning ourselves at the front door. I made Deryl hide in the rafters – don’t worry – she was safe the whole time. Torfinn huddled by Bella, who had the tavern in complete tactical control. The captain guarded our goods, and his sailors guarded the back. There was a crash at the entrance and Bjorn, our sly priest, opened the latch before the second pounding. The lord’s nephew Neville toppled in and I held my blade to his throat after Bella pinned his hand to the door with a bolt. Threaten as we did, it was only a moment’s breath before new invaders swarmed us. Before us was Lord Vance astride his gallant horse, dwarven ironguard mercenaries, local militia, and a priest of Asmodeus in robes of scarlet and crimson, counselled by a foul imp. The barman, who I later learned had tried to poison us – must have opened the back door, as militia men suddenly rushed in. Bjorn macerated the head of the lord’s nephew without a second’s thought and I slashed his throat. Lord Vance seemed untroubled; his nephew had died before we killed him.
Hounds leapt at us, and as I struggled with a pair, Bella nimbly kicked off the side of the bar and flew over her enemies. I think she learned that move from me. Torfinn and Deryl competed, sending blasts of arcane and eldritch lightning into their ranks. Militia men exploded, while Bjorn stepped outside and called upon the full furry of Thor to smite the devil-men. Bella launched bolt after bolt, never losing her head in the fight. Our combined fury helped clear my head. Our reputation as Skanzi monsters was deserved! After plunging my blade down the throat of one of the dogs and explaining to Deryl the necessity of such cruelty, Bjorn and I charged into the remaining sycophants of sin, forcing the ironguard dwarves to surrender, and cutting down Lord Vance and the cleric where they stood.
All that remained was the church and the devil inside. The lord’s horse proved hard to catch, but it allowed me to burst in and reach the devil in one fell charge. I further insulted it by telling it to go back to the abyss. Bella told me later that devils come from hell. Maybe not the best moves – but with Bella’s bolts behind me, I was invincible. She dropped that devil with a bolt strait to the head and the thing exploded in flames. Much as I hate to admit it, that proud, austere woman of craft and secrets can keep her head about anything. Well, anything but her love for a certain evil genius.
Bjorn's Journal 8
We have been given a new task by Starke, we are to attend an auction and purchase an item he is interested in. I wonder if he suspects my interest in his plans, and is using this to accomplish a minor goal and get us out of the city at the same time. It will bear thinking on and it looks like the trip will afford us the opportunity to do so. Our destination is several days sea voyage away. I have grown accustomed to river travel but have not sailed open water before, I hope I am not one of those who is subject to sea sickness it could make for a most unpleasant trip. We are to meet the captain of our ship on the morrow.
We have met our Captain and put out to sea, he asked of our experience and I truthfully said that mine so far had been limited to river travel, but I was eager to learn and would work hard to do so quickly. Alas young Androsax made out as if he had been born at sea and could out sail anyone. As we travel together I see more and more why the family is in the state it is and think maybe it is better if he joined the church of Rao, It could only be of benefit to the Skanzi Gods. The last couple of days have been smooth sailing and I have been fortunate in that I have felt no ill effects. The watch has just warned of a gathering storm on the horizon and we gather for a conference as to what to do.
The Storm is quickly bearing down on us and it was decided to put into shore until it passes, we have a deadline of the auction date in about a week with another couple of days sailing until we reach our destination. If the storm looks to last too long we have time to make our way overland. There is little I can do to aid the sailors in their tasks so I will pray to the Njord to see us to safety.
Battle is done and we are now cleaning up. Seeking shelter from the coming storm we found a settled cove and headed to shore. We were greeted by an armed party worried that we were raiders. After assuring them we were not, we were invited to stay. There was something not quite right about them, though I could not put my finger on it; it was beyond their obvious dislike of Skanzi. As such I took my own food and drink with me and would not partake of the fare offered. It is well I did so for they drugged my compatriots and the serving girl warned me that they meant us ill but to spare her father.
With this warning we were prepared for them while they were expecting drugged and sleeping prey. There were those of the party who thought we should take the battle to them but I recommended patience. Recalling the number of crossbowmen they had and figuring the inn gave us choke points to better enable us to handle numbers. I also figured that as this was their town they would be loathe to use fire. Bella's new familiar was very useful in getting us information and she continues to be a great asset to our ventures, I must think of an appropriate way to thank her. The battle was fierce and eventually we did fight out side the inn taking the battle to them so far as to detroy a devit that they apparently worship. Just goes to show that those who fail to recognize what should be worshipped do so at their own perril.
There is still some unfinished business here but hopefully this weather will break soon and we can be on our way. I see Darren has found a secret passage in their church that we will investigate.
Darren's journal from session #9, continuing the events from session #8.
Dear Corvin,
The rain continued well into the night. We decided to explore the church after heaping all the diabolic sacraments atop the cursed altar. After fiddling with a particularly hideous statuette near the dais, I discovered a secret staircase into the bowels of the church. We discovered the church’s treasury, and following it further, came upon the high priests’ domicile. Two women had arose early to bake bread, oblivious to our recent fight. We questioned them, and it appeared that there were few foes left over to vanquish. We also learned of Florinn, a pious servant of Rao, and therefore tormented son of Lord Vance who had lain rotting in his father’s jail. While some of our party wished to free him right away, others thought to secure the Lord’s manor first. Several of the mercenary Ironguard dwarves had fled there and we worried that they were stealing Lord Vance’s treasure, which had become rightfully ours through gory battle and glorious bloodshed.
So in the waning hours of night, we stormed the lord’s keep. Deryl grew bored of Bjorn’s hammering at the solid oak front door, and in an uncharacteristic whim, used some spellcraft to leap up to the second story window. I heard her scream and with panic in my throat, clambered up the vine-laced trellis after her. Our friends broke through the door and faced off against several pikemen barricaded behind a row of barrels. I would have assisted, but became, uh, delayed in my passage through the arrowslit window of the study on the second floor. I think it was the width of my arms, not the beer belly that made it difficult. I saw Deryl yank a crossbow bolt from her leg, hidden in the corner of the room. She was wounded by safe for the moment, and two dwarven bolters were upon me. At last I was able to slip through the window and onto the carpeted floor of a rather spare study – but not before taking a few bolts to the posterior. Biting my tongue, I leapt at the dwarves, sister at my back, hurling clouds of murky magic and blinding dust. I managed to bounce off the lord’s bed and plunge my blade strait through the first bolter’s gut. I could hear Bella, Bjorn and Torfinn square off with more bolters near the stairs, as they had dispatched the pikemen and hand hurried up to lend their aid.
Deryl and I slew the grimy dwarven thieves, and we traded insults with them to the best of our ability. Bella whispered something to the last one standing in their native tongue, and he grew pale. Then even more pale, as we mercilessly bled him dry with blade thrusts.
Freeing Florin was done at last, and the next day we sailed off to Alhaster and the auction, only days away. Arriving in the town, we discovered the place was overgrown with devil worship at the behest of its prideful, vain ruler, Lord Zeech. After a night’s rest, we managed to clean up and attend the auction. Deryl made off with my auction paddle, and as I sought her in the crowd, a tapestry of our great grandfather St. Aurielus was up for sale. Bless Deryl, for she bought it for the family. It will look grand in our hall in the vale! The main item for bid was apparently what we came for. Bella placed multiple bids on it – a hulking, spiked creature of stone and steel from the fallen empire of Bhael Turath. We were outmatched by Prince Zeech in the bidding, but the fool means to parade the thing through the city en route to his palace. It’s a long way, and lots can happen while on parade.
Wish us luck, older brother.
Derren
This is Bella's journal from session #9
Victor,
There will be a slight delay in the acquisition of the package due to complications. The storm had delayed us more than I thought and we arrived in town just as the auction was taking place, which left us no time to plan. Your item was the most sought after with several interested buyers, the most prominent of which was Lord Zeech.
During the bidding he sent his minions to the other parties with a message, that winning the item was very important to him and should we allow him to get it at a low price he would sell it back to us. It was a weak ploy. I could see his assistants making their way through the crowd, most likely offering the same deal to everyone else. It was obvious that should this lord get his way we would merely be bidding on the item again, this time at a higher price; better to risk his wrath and get it at the auction than back down to threats.
Unfortunately many had the same idea and the price was driven up beyond our cap. Lord Zeech has acquired the item, though at a higher price than he intended, and he means to parade it back to his palace. Several of the interested parties looked disgruntled, and I suspect that they may try to steal what they could not buy. I am sending Cullen to hide with the Zeech’s prize and stay on it no matter what.
You will get the item.
On a more positive note, a Quiver of Infinite Arrows had come up for bidding and I was able to acquire it at a low price. As it was more than I currently have I must ask for 3,500 gp, which I will pay back in full. It is a rare find and appears to be elvish in a design. The casing seems to be ideal for camouflage in wooded areas. Once I have learned more of rituals I should be able to make it a little more to my style, but in the meantime it should serve me greatly.
I should see you soon with your item.
Belladonna