I have been waiting a long time to break out the campaign, so forgive me if I am late to this party. This is my first attempt at a Campaign Journal, so hopefully my writing will get better as this goes along.
I will be posting these prologues as a means to introduce the characters and NPCs that will come back as the story progresses and buy me a little time to get some sessions built up to keep the story moving along the way.
Prologue 1 - Wilford Smythe (Rog1)
<Godsday 18th of Reaping in the Year of the Sundered Plains> (-20 years from the Year of the Fallen Dragon)
"You are over reacting Tobias and if you could see past your anger as a father, you would see that trying the man for breaking an archaic tradition is not the way to...”
The sound of Tobias’ heavy gauntleted fist slamming down against the desk that divided the two men denied life to the words Larras had wanted to give voice. Larras could see Tobias’ labored breathing as the other man fought to contain the anger that colored the paladin’s normally calm visage a deep shade of red and when his friend spoke, his words we sharp and clipped with fury barely held in restraint.
"I would have the man's head on a spike in front of the temple if I could Larras, and do not presume that because I have given my vows to uphold the Holy Scriptures of Heironeous that I am not considering casting them aside to defend my family’s honor. I am not so foolish as to think that my daughter is immune from the changes of becoming a woman, but neither should you think me willing to see her affections manipulated and her chastity taken as a trophy for that man to boost of over tavern tales."
Sighing deeply, Larras sat down in one of the simple chairs in the study hoping the gesture would convince Tobias to sit as well and collect himself. The priest knew his friend was angry, but hoped it was not too late to stop him from doing something rash.
"Yet to send him into the mines for something that was consensual? Would you rob him of his prime to soothe your anger? Does that sound like something the Archpaladin would do? Or I ask if this is something that a hurt and embarrassed father with powerful friends that will not question his words or requests is doing?"
Watching as Tobias reached into a drawer and drew out a sealed scroll with the wax emblem of House Dracarius on it, Larras knew that whatever calming he had hoped to bring to his shield brother was too late.
"Brother Larras, you are instructed to arrest Wilford Smythe for the assault of a priestess of Heironeous and transport him to the mining penitentiary of Sasserine. He is guilty and sentenced to spend a term of twenty years seeking atonement for his crimes against the Church. May he find repentance for his ways and seek his salvation daily."
Standing and snapping to attention in a smooth motion, Larras took the extended scroll and raised his other hand into a parade ground perfect salute and answered the only way he knew would allow him to leave without provoking his friend further.
"Heironeous' will be done Paladin.”
Closing the door behind him as he clutched the damning verdict, Larras whispered softly.
“I pray this for both your souls."
Prologue 2 - Tolin Besherry (Bard 1)
<Sunday 2nd of Sunsebb in the Year of the Laughing Gods> (-18 to Year of the Fallen Dragon)
Tolin Besherry was confident that he was running faster than any gnome in the history of his race, but could take little comfort in that knowledge because he was equally confident that regardless of how fast he ran, he was still going to die tonight. Risking a glance over his shoulder, Tolin saw the glowing eyes of the infernal hound that had leapt from the shadows cast by the campfire and tore the throats from those he journeyed with and willed his body to run even faster.
The attack happened so quickly that none had time to react. Marcus was the first to go down, the beast landing on the elder gnome minstrel the moment it had materialized from the darkness and mauled him before their eyes. Sheryl's scream of shock and terror sent Taryn and Tolin reaching for their blades, but the beast was quicker. With a grace that defied its appearance, it leapt from Marcus' still form and crashed into Taryn, the snapping of her spine and the following crunch of her skull as loud as whip cracks in their midst.
Tolin wanted to charge in and save them, wanted to strike the blow that would send the beast back to whatever hell had sent it, but his legs would not advance and then the hound looked at him, Taryn's blood mixed with the spittle dribbling from its maw and Tolin's felt himself cry out in fear and felt clutched dagger fall from his hand.
He would have died next he knew had Sheryl not found the courage that failed him. She charged the creature, her only weapon a burning log from the scattered fire, and slammed it against the beast; the attack taking its focus from Tolin for the moment.
Then she too was buried under its smoldering form, her screams mixing with the gnashing of its powerful jaws and the flailing of her limbs striking the ground in her death throws. As she writhed before his eyes, Tolin knew there was only one thing left for him to do.
He ran and did not look back at the bodies of his fallen friends.
Ignoring the searing pain in his lungs as best he could, Tolin’s sharp eyes saw a thick fir ahead and suddenly more religious than ever in his life, prayed to all the gods that might listen that he make it and get out of the hound’s reach.
Grasping a low branch and pulling himself up, Tolin’s nostrils filled with the mixture of the pine surrounding him from above and the sulfuric smell of damnation pulsing off the hound in waves from below. He could hear the creature’s breathing now from the base of the tree and knew if he looked down the creature would have him. He knew if he saw the blood coated fangs and burnt skin around its boney frame that his muscles would lock up and he would fall, screaming all the way down to his death and tried to climb ever higher to escape.
Then as quickly as the beast had appeared in his camp, it vanished back into the night leaving Tolin clutching a branch for safety and shaking uncontrollably until the first rays of dawn appeared several hours later. His Gran’s hymn of warning to all who did not wish to go to bed repeatedly came to mind as he finally gathered the strength to climb down from the tree.
~Go to sleep dearie, go to sleep now. The Glutton comes for those who tempt the dark, so go to sleep dearie, go to sleep now.~
Side note:
The party make-up is as follows:
Harden: Human Warmage with Scion of Sundabar trait.
Porkins the Pious: Human Cleric of St Cuthbert with Were Blooded trait.
Ren Kuttas: Human Monk with Wyrm Blood trait.
Tolin Besherry: Gnome Bard with Scarred Soul trait.
Wilford Smythe: Human Rogue with Were Blooded trait.
Loranda: Human Paladin with Cauldron Nobility trait.
All chars started at level one with one free MW item of their choosing, with the caveat that while it is considered MW, it will always have a resale value of 0gp, but will also cost 50% less to enchant should they wish to do so.