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Jimbobx
Learned Scribe

United Kingdom
109 Posts

Posted - 14 Feb 2008 :  08:45:18  Show Profile Send Jimbobx a Private Message  Reply with Quote  Delete Topic
Below is an NPC journal extract taken from a NWN module I've been working on. The NPC is one LoreMaster Kale Uthelian, a Wizard 4/Fighter2/Preist of Oghma 5 who has disappeared from his Temple in a non-cannon frontier town called Lasthold which I've placed on the North bank of the River Mirar just West of the Lurkwood.
The journal is the final clue in a sidequest to locate the missing LoreMaster.
I include it here for those scribes who, like myself, enjoy getting a Realms "Hit" on their lunch break by reading the campaign journals in this forum.

Many thanks to the contributors of the Character Name Topic. You may recognise a few names!


Rilyetan's Retreat

Jimbob's Waterdeep Journal

Jimbobx
Learned Scribe

United Kingdom
109 Posts

Posted - 14 Feb 2008 :  08:54:31  Show Profile Send Jimbobx a Private Message  Reply with Quote
15 Flamerule 1374

It has been 2 days and 2 nights since Durgamal and I returned through the Northern Gates of Lasthold. Both of us grievously wounded, any healing magics long since spent on our arduous return. I fare slightly better than he, who, I fear, may favour his right leg for the rest of his days. 10 of us set out to find what I have come to know as Rilyetan’s Retreat on the firstday of this month. I list here the names of the members of “The Dusty Axe” mercenary company in honour for they fought and died bravely in pursuit of knowledge and in the Binder’s name.

Rhaun Shieldslammer, Beserker Warrior
Ghalas Undergolt, Warrior
Farandown Forgesniffer, Scout
Sengard Rogen, Cleric of Dumathoin
Vargas Axerimmer, Warrior
Dendril Axerimmer, Warrior
Dursal Gilgalead, Warrior
Dallagad Gilgalead, Bard


The names listed are given to me by Durgamal Axerimmer, their captain, who knew and loved them well. In these pages I record our fateful journey North in search of Rilyetan’s Retreat.

On that first day we traveled hard and made good ground. The rhythmic pounding of dwarven iron shod boots were the perfect accompaniment to a hearty trail song led by Dallagad Gilgalead (the second youngest of the company) whose strong tenor lifted our spirits and lightened our loads, (the lyrics are recorded in the appendix).
When night came our resolve was tested as wolves raided the camp time and time again undoubtedly drawn by the smell of the roasted venison on which the dwarfs feasted.

I voiced doubts over the wisdom of such a large cooking fire but the boisterous dwarves knew no fear, and I confess the dwarf’s lack of caution infected me too as I began to feel myself invincible surrounded by such strong and stout friends. Perhaps two score wolves fell to the warriors of The Dusty Axe, inspired by a rousing battle hymn sung by Dallagad. Again and again the wolves leapt through the entrance to our bramble and briar semicircle of defense only to be met by axe or blade or mace.

When morning came the wolves were skinned of their valuable pelts, on Captain Durgamal orders, which were stored in a cairn for retrieval upon our return. All, except two, which Dallagad and his younger brother, Dursal, insisted upon wearing. Fastening the heads upon their helmets and the pelts down their backs they cavorted around on all fours in such a realistic display of wolf like behavior that we could barely see for the tears of laughter that streamed down our faces. At one point I feared I may have done myself an injury from laughing so hard when Dursal spun round to nip Dallagad for placing his muzzle too close to his backside. After a hearty breakfast of wolf steaks for the dwarves and oatcakes for me (I could never stomach meat so early) we piled the carcasses high and burned them.

And so we began the second day of our journey north in high spirits and no worse-for-wear from the night’s activities. I was fortunate enough to travel in the rear of the party where I was able to share stories and songs with the Gilgamead brothers. Dallagad showed me an exquisite hunting horn which he believed to be magical. I was able to confirm that it was and provided him with a little background history as well as instructions on how to properly release its enchantment. Dallagad was pleased and promised to pen some of his marvelous ballads for inclusion into the library as thanks.

The old soldier of the group and cousin to the Captain, Dendril Axerimmer also traveled in the rear with us. His wise words and grounded demeanor were a fitting counter to the youthful banter of the brothers who both afforded him great respect despite Dursal’s occasional and uncanny mimicry of the ancient warriors gruff tones.

I noted that Captain Durgamal ran an extremely tight shift and I could tell from the alacrity with which the members of The Dusty Axe responded to his orders that they were well used to his exacting standards. Preferring to use his fearsome Lieutenant, Rhaun Shieldslammer, for bellowing and keeping order, the Captain exhibited a quiet and controlled style of leadership often bringing the company into line with just a look or a gesture.

Farandown Forgesniffer scouted ahead of the main party and shortly returned, his darkwood crossbow cocked and loaded with a bright orange fletched bolt. He reported having found a set of humanoid tracks but added that they were already impossible to track, as the covering snow was growing heavier by the second. Swords were loosened in their scabbards and axes hefted from hand to hand as we squinted into the snow for signs of danger. Our vigilance proved unnecessary though as we reached the foothills of the Spine without incident.

At around midday it was decided that due to the worsening weather we should make camp in one of the many caves that dotted the hillside. Captain Durgamal split us into two groups to speed the task of finding a suitable cave to shelter in. The Captain and two of his clan, Vargas and Dendril, the scout Farandown Forgesniffer and myself in one party; and the second party, led by Rhaun Shieldslammer, would contain Ghalas Undergolt, Sengard Rogen the Preist of Dumathoin and the irrepressible Gilgamead brothers still sporting their wolf pelts. With the surly lieutenant’s ominous assertion that “decent shelter always comes with a price” we separated to explore the foothills.


Rilyetan's Retreat

Jimbob's Waterdeep Journal
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Jimbobx
Learned Scribe

United Kingdom
109 Posts

Posted - 14 Feb 2008 :  08:57:08  Show Profile Send Jimbobx a Private Message  Reply with Quote
The snow was falling so hard that it collected in my beard and stung my eyes. I stumbled after Dendril and could feel Farandown clinging to me, a handful of my robes bunched in his fist. The severity of the storm fairly blew us into the first cave we came across. It took me a moment to realize that the cave was not in darkness and that the telltale orange glow of a campfire, its source hidden around the corner, reflected against one wall. It took me another moment to register that we were under attack.

The malicious Northern wind had blown Durgamal straight into a slab of seven foot snarling muscle, which from its pale skin and narrow mouth I recognized as an arctic Bugbear. Neither the Bugbear or Durgamal had been ready for the confrontation and so neither had managed to bring a weapon to bear. What followed was a frantic wrestling match as the Dwarf slammed his helmeted skull into the Bugbear’s groin while the monster attempted to gain a telling hold on the wriggling Dwarf.

I had to trust in Durgamal’s ability to finish the sentry, as I suspected more of the beasts would be lurking close by. I grasped Dendril’s shoulder and rattled off an incantation, causing flames to lick up and down the blade of his Dwarven Waraxe, just as the commotion brought two more of the giant beasts from the campfire chamber. I heard a click and felt a rush of air pass my right ear as I saw a crossbow bolt with orange fletchings suddenly sprout from the furthest bugbear’s left eye. It fell back into the campfire chamber roaring in pain. The leading Bugbear had caught Dendril’s flaming Waraxe in a deft parry with its longsword and the two combatants strained neither willing to break the hold. Seeing that Vargas and Durgamal were making short work of the sentry I called upon Oghma to smite my enemies with divine flame and the Bugbear finally broke its parry as it was wreathed in the Binder’s fire. I heard another click and the flailing Bugbear jerked once, another bolt buried in its chest, before Dendril stepped forward and ended its life with a wicked sideways swipe that emptied its innards to the floor with a wet splash. I had time to share a grim nod with the grizzled old fighter before a piercing horn call split the air.

Rilyetan's Retreat

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Jimbobx
Learned Scribe

United Kingdom
109 Posts

Posted - 22 Feb 2008 :  12:01:25  Show Profile Send Jimbobx a Private Message  Reply with Quote
The force of the wind hit me like a punch in the face and I would have stumbled back into the cave had Dendril and Farandown not been propping me up from behind. Our marching order forcibly reversed due to the narrow walkway we edged along the rock face at our best speed in the direction Farandown believed to be the source of Dallagad’s distress calls.

The sharp eyes of the scout spotted them first and I followed his finger as he jabbed down and to our right. Purple flashes of brilliance flared through the white sheets of near horizontal snow and I realized that the Priest, Sengard Rogen, must have been calling on the Keeper of Secrets to aid him. When the walkway widened enough Captain Durgamal and Vargas barreled past us, weapons flashing. Farandown, Dendril and I half stumbled, half slid down the slope after them whereupon the reason for Dallagad’s horn calls of distress became evident.

Slumped against a frozen and long dead tree was Dursal, his face contorted in pain hugging his ribs with his right arm while his left arm hung limply by his side. In front of Dursal’s prone form his brother danced in and out of a pair of tree trunk legs narrowly avoiding the wild club swings of some kind of giant. Dallagad frantically stabbed with his shortsword and then skipped inside the monster’s reach attempting to draw the attention of what I could now see was a Hill Giant, away from his injured brother. Whenever he got a chance he blew mightily on the enchanted horn.

Beyond Dallagad and his fallen brother I could make out a cave mouth in front of which Rhaun and Ghalas chopped like woodsmen into the legs of another giant. As I watched, Ghalas slipped and the full force of the giant’s club met that stumble, clipping the Dwarf’s head and breaking his neck. There was a resounding crack and his body collapsed to the ground. I knew immediately, even as Sengard called upon the healing magics granted him by Dumathoin, that his soul had left his body. The sight of Ghalas’ crumpled form drove Rhaun into grief stricken rage. He seemed to grow before my eyes until he appeared to be waist high with the Hill giant although I knew that could not be the case. Impossibly fast he delivered two swift strokes to the giant’s leg, bringing it down to one knee, then he heaved the long, barbed point of his axe through the soft skin under the chin and into its brain.

Dallagad had run to his brother’s side now that the remaining giant was fully engaged with Durgamal and Vargas, and I stumbled the remaining few yards towards them calling upon the Binder’s healing grace as I ran. When I reached Dursal’s side his breath came in short gasps and I suspected a punctured lung but had no time confirm this as the white light of Oghma’s healing coursed through me and into the shattered dwarf. I felt bones knit beneath my fingertips and I watched as Dallagad cradled the broken left arm which faded from an angry purple to a healthy pink as he sung a soft tune of nonsense words under his breath. By the time Dallagad and I had completed our ministrations both hill giants resembled nothing more than steaming piles of meat.

After a restless night for all of us in the former giant’s lair, Ghalas was laid out with ceremony by the preist Sengard Rogen on a stone slab in an antechamber of the Cave. Ghalas’ axe and shield were placed in his hands and the Hill giant’s wooden club placed at his feet. Dallagad then gave a stirring recital of his deeds and ancestry.

The Hill Giants meager treasure was divided amongst the Company. Anything unwanted by the dwarfs but not completely worthless, the captain ordered stored in the corner of the cave in an empty ale cask, which had been found and drained during the night.
Also scattered around were a variety of bones. Obviously previous victims of the Hill giant’s taste for manflesh, perhaps merchants ambushed on the trail or ill prepared adventurers. I lamented that their tale would remain untold. I assembled the bones to the best of my ability into whole and partial skeletons and laid them out with a few words to the Binder in the same antechamber as Ghalas’ body. Durgamal then ordered the chamber sealed.

The hill giant corpses were burned and the dwarfs held no qualms about warming themselves by the putrid smelling flames until it was time to set off again.

The mood was understandably somber as the march was resumed. I took my place with the Gilgamead brothers and Dendril in the rear and tried not to reflect on the chain of events which had led to Ghalas’ death. A chain of events that I had set in motion. Of course, the guilt that I felt then seems but a trifling thing to the guilt that I feel now.

Within an hour or two we came to the entrance of a long, narrow valley, mercifully sheltered from the biting wind but still bitterly cold. Plant life seemed comparatively bountiful here after the barrenness of the foothills. I even spotted one or two bushes of Fenberrys that appeared to be thriving in spite of the cold. It occurred to me that this would be an excellent place for a settlement and, indeed, it must have occurred to others too as I found evidence of an abandoned barbarian camp in one of the cave mouths that lined either side of the valley. As we spread out to explore Rhaun commented that he felt baleful eyes were upon us.


Rilyetan's Retreat

Jimbob's Waterdeep Journal

Edited by - Jimbobx on 22 Feb 2008 12:03:02
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Jimbobx
Learned Scribe

United Kingdom
109 Posts

Posted - 28 Feb 2008 :  13:27:35  Show Profile Send Jimbobx a Private Message  Reply with Quote
The valley turned out to be around 1620 dwarf paces long and 450 across ending in a narrow and superbly defensible northerly pass. Indeed the longer we stayed the more convinced I was that this place could be or had been an extremely important strategic site. All that it lacked was a ready water source, which I unsuccessfully petitioned Durgamal to allow me to search for in the valley caves. He maintained that the temperature alone was not enough to keep the valley deserted and that some other more dangerous influence, probably waiting and watching in the darkness, had already laid claim to it. It was agreed that we briefly rest in the shallow cave mouth where I found the barbarian tokens and then move on with all swiftness.

A blanket was hung on a stick to cover the entrance and the company dropped to the ground, breaking open rations and swigging from waterskins. Dallagad and Farandown stood watch at the cave mouth and I pulled aside the blanket and joined them; making the most of the high vantage point to sketch a rough map of the valley floor – included in the back of this journal. I was just putting the finishing touches to my notes when I noticed that the Bard and the Scout had tapped a fair sized ale cask and were surreptitiously sipping from pewter tankards. This confused me greatly as neither of them had been carrying those items earlier. When I questioned them they swore me to secrecy explaining that Durgamal didn’t agree with those on watch imbibing alcohol. I promised and Dallagad pulled from his belt what looked like a plain drawstring sack. I soon realized my mistake when he opened it and allowed me to peer in. I saw more food and drink than could possibly have fitted into the small sack as well as a number of other bulky items. Farandown reached in and pulled out an apple, which he tossed to me with a wink. Dallagad pulled the drawstring shut and replaced the sack in his belt. I shook my head in amazement at the resourceful bard and wondered what other secrets he had tucked away.

The baleful eyes that Rhaun had felt earlier did nothing more than watch us as we left the secluded valley, and continued on our way fed and rested. I vowed to return and explore it more fully on another occasion as I felt some great mystery lie waiting to be uncovered and recorded.

After the shelter of the valley the winds of the icy steppe came as a marked contrast. But although they brought great discomfort they also confirmed that we now walked the final leg of our journey. We had cleared the Spine and now walked on the edge of the world. It was here that the usefulness of my maps ended leaving me solely with the fragmented verses of a forgotten ballad and the third hand descriptions found in an ancient text to guide us. Because of this I was required to march at the lead of the party with Durgamal and Vargas. With no map for the captain to interpret, the texts that I had committed to memory were his only guide through the treacherous landscape. I shouted directions through the wind as we trudged, heads bowed, northward.

--------------------------------------

Another hour of hard marching revealed my sources to be reliable as Farandown’s sharp eyes spotted a tower rising through the driving snow.

Rilyetan’s Retreat was not as I had imagined. Instead of the remains of a delicate elven spire a short, squat tower - in relatively good repair considering its great age - rose out of the snow before us. A simple spell told me that the whole tower was still heavily enchanted. I had mixed feelings about this revelation as the same magic so obviously preserving the outside of the tower, could also be powering any wards or spell traps within the tower.

We carefully edged forward and spread out to explore the base, although, from my research, I didn’t expect to find an entrance. I saw movement to my left and turned just in time to see Vargas disappear into the ground with a grunt. There was a flurry of activity and after a brief panic it was determined that the crust of hard snow on which he had stood had been unable to take the weight of the bulky dwarf and his armor.

The snowdrift, along with a spluttering Vargas, was dug out with shields and hands to reveal the start of a tunnel where someone had obviously attempted to dig their way in to the seemingly unbreachable tower. Unbreachable, to someone without the key.
Although there were many things that could have gone wrong – The teleport system could have decayed, I could have misinterpreted the keyphrase, I could have misunderstood the method of entry completely – It was with the complete confidence, perhaps divine inspired, that I instructed the Dwarfs to join hands as I spoke the key phrase which would – according to my research - transport us into the heart of the tower...

Rilyetan's Retreat

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Jimbobx
Learned Scribe

United Kingdom
109 Posts

Posted - 03 Mar 2008 :  08:00:00  Show Profile Send Jimbobx a Private Message  Reply with Quote
The contrast from the brilliant whiteness of the blinding snow to the utter inky blackness of the tower interior was like a physical blow. We sat on the cold, dust-coated floor for several minutes as we waited for the teleport-induced nausea to pass. I murmured a prayer to the Binder to illuminate the darkness and our surroundings were revealed to us, with some cursing by the dwarfs as they fought to readjust their sensitive eyes.

The undisturbed inches thick coating of dust, which lay on everything was evidence enough that nothing had so much as moved in this place for millennia. And it was with great reluctance that we finally marred the smooth blanket-like covering by exploring the room. My heart quickened as I spotted a bookcase in the far corner. I smiled at Dursal and gestured for him to look with me as I knew he shared my love of lore, he grinned back and then time seemed to stop, almost as if my brain were struggling to process the sounds and images that assailed it in those awful moments.

A multi-colored swirl appeared behind Dursal with a loud pop and a huge, scaled arm ending in a pair of wicked pincers reached out from within to close around the young warrior’s neck. As I screamed a warning the pincer’s clicked shut and Dursal’s head dropped to the floor with a soft thud as the thick carpet of dust cushioned its landing. Time started again.

By the time I was close enough to land a solid blow on the scaled arm with my quarterstaff, the rest of the creature had stepped through the gate and an eight foot Demon towered above me. Two other swirls had appeared around the chamber with similar horrors emerging from them. With contemptuous ease a dog faced monster clamped a hand around the top of Sengard’s head and twisted him into the ground, grinding the priest’s neck and spine into shards of splintered bone. I saw no more as the next moment I was launched through the air by a blow from the crab-clawed demon. I felt ribs crack as I hit the far wall and through swimming vision I discerned the beast lumbering towards me. I knew that my life would have been at its end in moments had Durgamal not distracted the monster by burying his Great Axe deep into its calf. The brave Captain paid for the daring move as the embedded axe was yanked out of his grip when the hellspawn turned to bat him across to the otherside of the room.

With the few seconds that Durgamal had bought me I called upon Oghma to heal my wounds and spared a glance around the room. Dendril, a seemingly supernaturally large Rhaun and Vargas were faced off against a hulking dog-faced, greatsword wielding monstrosity and appeared to be winning, although that confrontation was about to become three on two as the ape like slayer of Sengard lumbered over to join his demonic ally. Behind the trio of fighters a singing Dallagad had climbed onto an ancient writing desk and was whizzing glowing white slingbolts over their heads and into the melee; steam hissed from the wounds wherever they struck home and the demons roared in pain.

Satisfied that the Captain was no longer a threat the pincer-clawed demon was about to turn its attention back to me when it was struck to the ground by a falling bookcase. Demon and bookcase hit the stone floor with a crash and a tremendous cloud of dust was thrown up. Farandown leapt nimbly from the bookcase and helped me to my feet with a wink. I blinked away the dust and determined that our priority must be to aid the fallen Captain, as the three warriors were capably keeping the Demons at bay, despite all bleeding freely from a number of wounds.

Farandown and I picked our way around the fallen bookcase, which I suspected would not keep the Demon for long, to the crumpled form of Durgamal. There were no outward signs of life and his left leg was bent at an impossible angle, but I knew better than to underestimate my stalwart friend so I called upon the most powerful healing spell I knew and prayed that I was not too late. His eyelids fluttered open instantly and I whispered thanks to the Binder for saving my companion. I had just lifted the stunned dwarf to his feet when Farandown pointed over my shoulder and shouted in alarm. I turned in time to see another multi-coloured swirl appear in the space between Dallagad and the three fighters. An Ape-faced demon stepped through and I knew then that hope was lost.

Rilyetan's Retreat

Jimbob's Waterdeep Journal
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Jimbobx
Learned Scribe

United Kingdom
109 Posts

Posted - 12 Mar 2008 :  07:50:41  Show Profile Send Jimbobx a Private Message  Reply with Quote
The valiant bard dropped his sling and reached for his shortsword but never got the weapon free of its sheath as the Demon’s hand snaked out, grabbed him by the neck and tossed him across the room. Dallagad hit a bookcase on the opposite wall, fell forward and then disappeared with a crash as he was buried under a pile of books, wood and stone.

Vargas aimed a crushing hammer blow at the distracted demon’s back but it was never delivered as the dog-faced demon took the opportunity to skewer him from behind, sliding its flaming greatsword through the dwarf halfway up to the hilt. Intent upon its kill the demon could do nothing to block a powerful axe stroke from Dendril. The demon roared in agony as the ancient dwarf’s waraxe cut deeply into its thigh. He heaved back for another swing and found his arms pinned to his sides by the Ape demon that had thrown Dallagad. Dendril’s bones popped, snapped and pierced through his back and chest as the life was hugged out of him.

Rhaun now faced three demons. Even in his enlarged state he stood no chance. The demons literally ripped him into pieces. Durgamal started to come round, Farandown half lifted his crossbow but decided not to bother and I realized my foolishness – I had spent so long thinking about getting into Rilyetan’s retreat it had never occurred to me how I would get out.

I felt for and grasped my companion’s shoulders, closed my eyes and whispered our only chance as the flaming greatsword descended.

------------------------


The icy wind rushed across my face, carrying with it the smell of burning flesh and hair…I heard Farandown and Durgamal drop to the floor either side of me…I opened my eyes…Durgamal was gawking wide-eyed at Farandown. The scout had been split down the middle by the flaming greatsword - its white-hot edge had quarterized the cut providing me with a gory cross-section of Farandown’s insides.

Fascinated and horrified I bent double and vomited the remains of an undigested apple into the snow.


------------------------
30 Flamerule 1374

Many times during the terrible return journey I felt convinced that I would never see my temple again; and each time I was dragged from my self pity and pessimism by the example of my friend Captain Durgamal. Every morning I poured all the healing I could spare into his mangled leg and every evening it bled anew looking worse than the evening before – Yet it was he that spurred me on with words of encouragement and fantasies of hot baths and dry clothes.

My friend now rests in that hot bath and will have all the dry clothes he needs as this day I return from the Temple of Sune in Mirabar where the good Captain will convalesce for some time. I did not reveal my intentions to him, as I am sure he would have insisted I wait or perhaps have him accompany me on his crutches. But I plan to strike while the memory of the death of my friends is still fresh. I know the dangers that await me and I know how to defeat them. Tomorrow morning I will return to Rilyetan's Retreat.

Rilyetan's Retreat

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Jimbobx
Learned Scribe

United Kingdom
109 Posts

Posted - 19 Mar 2008 :  08:10:40  Show Profile Send Jimbobx a Private Message  Reply with Quote
I guess I should close this off...above is the last page of the journal which the PC’s will find somewhere in Kale’s old room in the Temple. Which in turn will lead them to begin the quest to find the missing Loremaster who appears to have gone stumbling off into the snow to get his own back against the dwarf-slaying denizens of the tower known as Rilyetan’s retreat.
I have all the specs and history of the adventure locale of “Rilyetan’s Retreat” on a word doc if anyone is interested in including it as a side quest in their own campaign. Just pm/post and I’d be happy to mail it.

Cheers,
Jim

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Alaundo
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Posted - 19 Mar 2008 :  09:27:23  Show Profile  Visit Alaundo's Homepage  Click to see Alaundo's MSN Messenger address Send Alaundo a Private Message  Reply with Quote
Well met, Jimbobx.

Very nice work indeed. I'd certainly be happy to see any additional material with a view to including thy journals in the Campaign Logs section of Candlekeep. Please get in touch if thou art interested.

Alaundo
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Jimbobx
Learned Scribe

United Kingdom
109 Posts

Posted - 23 Mar 2008 :  16:32:04  Show Profile Send Jimbobx a Private Message  Reply with Quote
I'd be honoured to have my work included in the keep.
Just give me a few weeks to put it in a shiny PDF format and an address to mail it to.

Jim

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