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Wolf of the Dark
Acolyte
USA
41 Posts |
 Posted - 02 Mar 2007 : 05:37:42
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Technically they are from a small hamlet a few miles east of Hardbuckler, a place I decided to call Eastbrook. Eastbrook lies along side a good sized creek and is inhabited by retired adventurers, farmers and woodsfolk-- about a dozen or so all told.
Bronnen Deepforge and Corvyn are orphans taken in by the "priory" brothers and raised to a semi-civilized state. Bronnen was taught the art of warfare and Corvyn, a human lad, turned out to be a warlock with no one to teach him his art.
Here follows the first session or two, started in the late fall of 2006. If anyone reads this and enjoys it, I will post more. As it stands, the lads have gone on to Hill's Edge, and now are in the westernmost part of Skull Gorge on a mission to collect some materials for the Temple of Joy in Hill's Edge (and to make some coin, too).
-- for your perusal....
- Steve Rees
EDIT 3/29/07: I've added most of the rest of the tale. a few more weeks should see the campaign's conclusion.
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15 years of DnD, but only a few weeks in the Realms.... |
Edited by - Wolf of the Dark on 30 Mar 2007 04:44:54
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Wolf of the Dark
Acolyte
USA
41 Posts |
Posted - 02 Mar 2007 : 05:39:45
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Bronnen and Corvyn
Chapter 1 Eastbrook Hamlet [5th Kythorn]
A handful of miles east of Hardbuckler lies the hamlet of Eastbrook. The East River runs down from the Trielta Hills and past Eastbrook toward the River Reaching. The hamlet itself is comprised of about a dozen buildings, nearly all homes, and the Priory.
The Priory is a large fieldstone building about fifty feet wide and thirty feet deep, two stories and soundly built. It was founded by a retired adventurer, Alden Longshanks, just over fifty years past. The lower floor has several small workshops, store rooms, a common room and the kitchen. A small cellar lies below. Upstairs are six private rooms for the inhabitants and a large common bunk room where Alden still sleeps and where the occasional guest may bide a day or two. The little used areas upstairs serve as temporary storage for various bits of gear and goods. Seven men and eight women reside at the Priory, all are retired from the adventurer’s life and have turned their labors to tilling the soil, making odds and ends, plus three of them have learned a bit of divine healing. One lady has taken the time to learn how to brew up herbal remedies and tend to the cuts and scrapes common in a remote town like Eastbrook. Two orphans also lived at the Priory: Corvyn and Bronnen Deepforge.
The hamlet is the center of a sheep raising area so most folk who live there make a living from shearing sheep, spinning wool or weaving cloth. Many hides each year are sent to Hardbuckler where they are tanned for various uses. One fellow in town is a cooper and woodcutter; the wood he cuts in the nearby forest is divided between barrels and firewood. It is a quiet town with quiet people.
It was even quieter when the old Lord lived, but he passed on a half-dozen years ago and his son, a rather spoiled and uneven tempered man, took over the men at arms and named himself Lord Marchriver. Until the summer of this year he has not badly broken any laws, but he has turned more and more to bullying area villages for more money he calls taxes. Now he has crossed a line by raising taxes on the Priory and saying that if they can’t pay, he will have to confiscate several of their books and scrolls. All of this is very convenient since it was only recently that he learned the Prior possessed two books of great value and several scrolls and maps that could likewise be sold or traded for gold or favors. The whole matter was rather transparent to Alden Longshanks and Prior Harald Green when three “soldiers” from the Keep came to deliver the ultimatum about payment within one day’s time or else.
Alden and Harald both knew that Harald had let slip the secret of the tomes and scrolls of lore. What was worse, in both men’s’ minds, was that a map had also come to them a month before. This map was carefully made and had many notations on it about the expansion of a serpent kingdom to the distant north. Such a growth in lizard-folk activity indicated future trouble. Alden was certain the Great Lords to the north and west needed to know this. And so he called upon two fine and hearty lads to carry the Priory’s treasures away to Candlekeep where those fine men and women could decide how best to spread the knowledge.
One night, after a deal of planning, men from the Lord Marchriver came back (earlier than promised) with the intent of taking the “taxes” that were owed. In the dark of that night, the two orphans, whom the men and women of the Priory had helped raise, ducked out ahead of trouble and carried the books and scrolls with them. They had the help of four Priory residents in getting away and laying a false trail. But it was hoped that a “misleading map” the two young fellows had crafted would truly lead the tax collectors and Lord Marchriver astray.
That ‘map’ showed just enough reason to send the reader off to the wild lands near the Hill of Lost Souls. Promises of treasure and magic, fame and renown were almost certainly at the end of the trail marked on that map; a place many miles to the north and east.
Meanwhile Bronnen and Corvyn turned south then east to find a small boat and Durban Wright, who would take them downriver and closer to Candlekeep. They were soon joined by by four of their friends from the Priory who intended to help in the subterfuge. On the forest trail however, the lads and their helpers met up with a handful of goblins on a raid. Four of the foul folk they slew and one was wounded but escaped. They would have hunted it down but the 'tax collectors' at the Priory needed a false trail to follow and the treasured tomes had to be safely taken away. Ben, Able, Rosa and Tamara bandaged a few cuts then took off to lay the false trail north and east. Corvyn, Bronnen and Durban turned southeast and made for the East River where Durban’s keelboat was hidden.
And there we leave this stalwart trio until next time.
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15 years of DnD, but only a few weeks in the Realms.... |
Edited by - Wolf of the Dark on 02 Mar 2007 05:56:02 |
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Wolf of the Dark
Acolyte
USA
41 Posts |
Posted - 02 Mar 2007 : 05:41:00
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Game Open on 12/17/06 in game time is around midnight…
After a bit more than half an hour to reach the boat, the three men left the woods and forest trail behind. The shore of the river was brushy and a thick bed of reeds and marsh grass concealed the boat.
“Here’s Greenleaf, safe and sound, lads. Keep your eyes open while I push her out a bit and get her floating free,” said Durban. He grabbed the short bowsprit and heaved it up and shoved. His feet sunk deeply into the soft ground but the boat slid back off the wet reeds.
“Come on and watch your step,” he whispered back to Corvyn and Bronnen. “Untie the line from that bush and bring it aboard Corvyn. Bronnen, step here and let me give you a hand up. Keep it quiet, both of you.”
Bronnen stepped into Durban’s locked hands and up he went. Durban’s boots made a bit of a wet, sloppy noise as he pulled them out of the muck but then he hauled himself up the side and into the open hold. Corvyn laid the bow line up on the small foredeck and grabbed the gunwale, shoving the boat hard back into the river. Then he scrambled into the boat with a moderate amount of grace and no great racket.
The boat was about twenty-eight to thirty feet in overall length, but only about twenty-five feet of it was hull. The fore deck had a tiny canvas tent-like structure where a few items could be kept dry. The center of the boat was open with sturdy floorboards where cargo could be lashed down. The rudder hung at the squared off stern and Durban was already lashing it up out of the way and had a sculling oar ready to push the boat into the main stream.
In a couple minutes they were away and Durban both propelled and steered Greenleaf with his long sculling oar in a rowlock bolted to the transom. The current helped them along at a bit more than walking speed.
About three hours past mid of night, and some hours before the first hint of dawn’s gray light, they coasted toward a wide bend in the river.
“Quiet now lads,” said Durban. “Just ahead is the ford over the river and we have a very narrow gap in the rocks. If anyone’s waiting we don’t want to let them know we’re here.”
Corvyn whispered back from the bow, “So let’s put in here and Bronnen and I can creep up toward that bit of high ground and see if anyone is hiding out.”
“I agree,” said Bronnen. “Let’s not git caught without knowing what’s what.”
They put in to the shore some hundred paces above the river bend and the two young men crept ashore and scrambled up the low bluff and then along the grassy bank of the river. Brush and trees shaded and hid them from view in the dim starlight. Bronnen led off as with the moon having already set, it was quite dark, but his dwarven eyes found no trouble with the lack of light. His only trouble was in moving quietly.
Bronnen noticed something odd about the copse of trees on the highest point of ground overlooking the ford. Then he tumbled to the notion it was illusionary- a concealment spell of some sort and within it stood a small cabin.
A pair of goblins gave themselves away about that time, sniffing the air and one spoke of a woodsmoke fire and the smell of something or someone dead. With little desire to leave a goblin breathing Bronnen trotted in and began swinging. Corvyn dropped out of a tree he’d climbed to get a better view and rushed up until he could see enough to let loose a blast of eldritch power. Even Durban arrived in time to see the fight. Neither goblin lived beyond that hour and when they were dead the forest was silent.
Plainly no one else was hiding about in ambush.
All three went into the cabin where they found a very old woman sitting in a rocking chair with her dead old dog in her lap. The woman too was dead, a few days at most. The dog was some bit farther along on his path to the afterlife.
Inside, the cabin turned out to house the workbench for a country healer and herbalist. A few items were lying about, and the lads helped themselves to a few pots of healing ointment and three small vials of healing potions, plus some food for the trip downriver. They also gathered up a recent journal which had five last notes in the final pages:
1. “An orc shaman forces a goblin band to search westward from Hill’s Edge, for something….
2. I had a vision of a dragon’s shadow on the moon’s face; the dragon was collared and leashed.
3. Men in shadows and black robes tortured a lizard man and asked, ‘who comes to plunder the bones?’
4. The Zhentarim worry about an invasion of snakemen and their lizardfolk puppets.
5. The grave of an archwizard was found at the Hill of Lost Souls, his bones looted, tossed about.”
They also found a silver scrying bowl and a jug of oily water to use with the bowl. On touching the bowl a small spark of fire arced out and lit in some tinder-dry rushes on the floor. Instantly a fire caught and began to spread. The three men grabbed the things they’d picked up and ran out the door. Once outside they tossed the two goblins and their weapons into the blazing ruin of the cabin. Then they went back to the boat and resumed their journey downriver.
Bronnen was hurt from the fighting during the night and so he tried a pot of the healing ointment. He slept through the last hour of night and beyond the dawn. Durban slowed the boat and they tied up to a sandbar where they could sleep with some safety. A few hours later, in mid morning, they set out again. Corvyn had spent some time with a book of herbology he’d taken from the old crone’s home. What he learned went a ways toward explaining how the ointment could work on Bronnen or anyone, to heal wounds very quickly over night. The book held much more besides, but that would take some time to reveal.
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15 years of DnD, but only a few weeks in the Realms.... |
Edited by - Wolf of the Dark on 02 Mar 2007 05:52:55 |
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Wolf of the Dark
Acolyte
USA
41 Posts |
Posted - 02 Mar 2007 : 05:43:08
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Just as they came to the last bend of the East River they spotted smoke above the trees and Durban said, “Just over there is a crofter’s homestead. A bit of high ground and he raises hogs, chickens and such.” But even while Durban spoke, the amount of smoke grew drastically and turned from wholesome gray to sooty black. Then they all heard the sounds of steel on steel and the yell of someone dying.
Durban quickly sculled the boat forward and to the sandy beach, “Ready and to arms, friends. It’s likely something other than a housefire.”
Corvyn, in the bow, saw first the fact that a man did battle with two goblins within a few paces of his burning house. Off in the near distance he also saw more fighting between goblins and lizard folk.
No matter, Bronnen and Corvyn leapt ashore and rushed up the slope to lend a hand. Bronnen rushed a bit further up the slope than Corvyn, and in fact found himself all the way into the fight against the lizard men. Corvyn wisely hung back and blasted at one of the two goblins trying to kill the farmer.
As Durban came up to Corvyn’s position to lend him aid as needed, with saber in hand and a worried look on his face. Corvyn again blasted, and in so doing slew, one goblin. It was not in time however as the farmer went down on his back and he dropped his pitchfork. The second goblin paused to look at Corvyn and took a bit too long to figure out his next move. Corvyn and Durban never gave him a chance to finish off the wounded farmer. In fact, Corvyn handed Durban an potion and said, “Help that fellow out, and be quick about it. Then get back into the fight.”
Bronnen meanwhile was thinking long and hard about the wisdom of his forebears and tried to remember the bit about going up against eight to one odds: ‘was that a good idea or a bad one?’ in the end, he nearly met his untimely demise but for the sudden appearance of Durban, who was able to block most of a sword swing with his body and thereby save Bronnen from ending up a head shorter.
The goblins were dead but there were still two lizards and neither looked all that badly hurt. Regardless, they had a bad run of luck and the three to two odds soon had them face up and staring at the sun with sightless eyes.
A search of the dead found a few coins and some pretty decent weapons, so those were confiscated for the good of the realms. Then they discovered that some phrase the lizards had spoken had activated a spell on the “pitchfork” the farmer had fought with. But it was no pitchfork, it was a trident. One of the sort that lizard chieftains carried to war.
Arno, the crofter, turned his back on his burned farmstead and looked at his three rescuers. “I better go with you three and report this to the folk at Hill’s Edge. Can you take me downriver that far?”
They agreed to take the man, and he told them the tale of the trident. “Them lizards wanted it bad, and the gobos kept saying things about keeping it away from the lizzies. Whoever woulda guessed me old gramps woulda come back from looting at the Hill of Lost Souls with a magic pitchfork that glows with green light when you croak at it? Damned funny tale and I wouldna believe it if’n we weren’t all here to see it out. Thirty years hanging over the fireplace and now I learn it’s probably worth a lot of gold. I coulda lived like a prince all this time.”
The last furlong or so of the East River went past quickly and they joined the River Reaching. The big river’s current was slower but the width of the river made for a greater margin of safety from shore-side ambushes. Nevertheless they kept sharp eyes open for trouble.
They reached the ferry over the river and put the boat up, paying the ferryman to keep it safe. Then they headed up the road to the east. Hill’s Edge was a long walk yet.
They made it to the town on the 6th of Kythorn. Midsummer was still a couple weeks away. After a few questions the guards let them into town and the three went off to the Tarnished Trumpet to get a room and find out where they could sell some of their loot and get some of their own questions answered.
The news of the lizard raid spread fast and they got an invitation to meet with the town’s burgomaster or lord mayor or whatever he chose to call himself. It was set for the next day, “so today, the 7th of Kythorn, a fine day for us all, we get to go buy some things and sell some of this dead weight,” they confirmed to each other.
They visited the Temple of Llira and bought some healing potions and such other protectives as they could afford. Later they returned to the inn, ate well and spent the night.
And there we must leave them to their own devices for a time.
[ close the game with enough xp for 2nd level ] 9 AM 7th Kythorn
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15 years of DnD, but only a few weeks in the Realms.... |
Edited by - Wolf of the Dark on 02 Mar 2007 05:52:15 |
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dwarvenranger
Senior Scribe
USA
428 Posts |
Posted - 06 Mar 2007 : 00:34:21
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| I enjoyed the story. Good eye for detail Wolf. |
If I waited till I knew what I was doing, I'd never get anything done.
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Wolf of the Dark
Acolyte
USA
41 Posts |
Posted - 22 Mar 2007 : 15:12:44
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We resume the tale...
After a hearty meal, the day began with Corvyn, Bronnen and Farmer Croft heading over to Belkin’s Blades to see if any sort of armor had been traded in and maybe find a couple knives or swords with which to arm up.
Farmer Croft kept the loosely wrapped trident cradled in his arms and hung back while the other two asked about a blade and some chainmail that “were not so expensive only a lord could afford ‘em.” Croft did not want to get too far away from his benefactors, as he knew the reputation of this town and was afraid of being robbed before he could turn over the enchanted trident. It took a while, but the owner’s son and daughter were able to help Bronnen find a steel shield and a readily repairable partial suit of chainmail (the former owner had lost his legs, but the dwarf didn’t need human-length leg-protection anyway…); and Corvyn acquired a nice, heavy bladed short sword (with a very sturdy knuckle guard). Repairs and slight adjustments were negotiated and Belkin the Younger asked them to come back first thing in the morning to pick up the gear.
Back at the Tarnished Trumpet, a chance conversation with a weather-beaten fellow of middle years, one Carlus Bender by name, led them to accept his offer to act as “Guide and Protector” for their planned journey into the hill country. A good fighter would be a boon, and besides, he had said a fellow outside town still owed him a big favor, and would loan them some mules for the trek. All agreed to meet the next day, before noon, in the Trumpet’s common room.
After that, they returned to visit the Temple of Joy and spoke with Old Bringer, a hunch-backed man of some 80 summers who regretted daily that he was not 40 years younger so he could go have one last adventure. Old Bringer told them he had a couple youngsters in mind who might be willing to serve as henchmen and guides, should the two decide to head off into the hills or Gorge country. The temple after all needed certain rare supplies (found mostly in remote, wild places, and old crypts), and they’d be willing to pay for someone to fetch them back. In exchange, the temple would keep half of the special goods, and provide some healing potions, skills and divine support. The items most in need were skulls of orc shamans, finger bones of wizards and thigh bones of any old giant. While they were at the temple, the bought a few potions and vials of holy water, stocking up for what they figured would be a troublesome couple of weeks ahead.
They returned to the Inn, where Bronnen sat about watching folks and talking to some (over and ale or two), and Corvyn went to their room to read from the book of arcane lore. Durban had been out listening for news and rumors all day, but came back little the wiser. The late afternoon and evening saw some feats of strength and gambling by both Bronnen and Corvyn. They even won a bit of gold. Regardless however, they were well regarded when the night drew to a close.
Next morning, the 8th of Kythorn, saw them to their audience with the burgomaster, or should have. But the fellow had been called away on an emergency in the night (some farms north of town had been raided by lizard folk). Councilor Taggart of the Merchant Advisors Council stood in for the mayor and held court. Taggart listened to the tale of Croft’s rescue, the deaths of the goblins and lizard folk, and of the magical trident. The trident confirmed the rumors and stories of lizard incursions, and both Taggart and Sergeant Harrickson recognized the ‘rune marks’ on the trident as some sort of clan symbol. Plainly they would need to mount patrols to scour the countryside and see how big a threat was coming. Riders would have to be dispatched with warnings, too.
In a quiet aside, meant for only their ears, and for the sergeant’s, the councilor talked of a long lost spell book. The scribe was the wizard Palidius, and he was buried up north. But a local scryer, Magus Frostbranch, had discovered the tomb had been found and the book looted. Taggart described the wizard sigil and said, “Look for such a tome of great spells, and return it to us. It has great value.”
Corvyn studied it calmly and thought to himself, I have just such a book with such a sigil, but the book I have is not full of spells. He has described another book of value….
Taggart also suggested that the lads hire on to scout some terrain, or maybe carry messages to Corm Orp. Corvyn and Bronnen declined the fee to act as messengers, but said they’d planned on heading into the Gorge and so would agree to take along a “courier” who could go part way with them and return to report in a few days. Last but not least, he said to Farmer Croft, “This trident you show us, we will keep it in the town armory for now. We will study it. For you, I have prepared letters of credit: 400 gold pieces for each of you. Is that enough?”
Croft looked about and no one else spoke, but Corvyn nodded, “It is yer lordship.”
The sun had climbed high by the time the party started walking out of town leading a couple pack mules hauling some gear. Larson and Ella from the Temple of Joy, and Carlus joined Bronnen, Corvyn and Durban. Just outside the gate, the mayor’s courier met up with them (he was riding a tall horse that looked very fast).
Four days passed without sign of goblins, orcs or lizards along a wild, goat-path of a trail. They headed straight northeast toward Skull Gorge and reached the river late on the fourth day. It was there they saw their first sign of trouble. A number of barefoot goblins had been there in the last day or so, according to Carlus. At least two old tombs were cut into the bluffs along the riverside. They left the mayor’s courier to hold the mules (along with his horse), while the six went into a narrow ravine.
A short ways up the ravine they spotted a formerly hidden door into a stone chamber, and crept up to it. Fresh tracks abounded but no other sign did they see. The door plainly led to an old crypt, probably long since looted, but it could still be used as a camp for some goblin raiders. They went inside.
Quiet and careful sneaking about found them wandering the twisting corridors of the rooms of a once large tomb. The stonework was not fancy, and no grand ornamentation was seen, so they figured it was likely the tomb of some lesser warlord and his family or cohorts. Little remained of interest, until Bronnen spotted the two dead, skinned and gutted lizard men. They were a fly-swarmed mess, and stunk pretty bad. They were no more than a few days dead, too. Noises deeper in the tomb complex brought them all on edge, and they advanced in tight formation to a turn in the hall, and there they found a large room with a small campfire.
They also found four armed goblins and a rather obstinate orc. Everyone was ready for the fight, but the goblinoids had some bad breaks and the battle turned against them. They were all killed as they had no way to escape. The tomb was a dead end.
A few bits of loot were gathered up, nothing to valuable: some armor, an ax, a couple swords. More things might be hidden in the tomb, but a detailed search could wait until the area was cleaned up and secured.
We leave the group there, for the time being….
Close …Near sunset, 12th of Kythorn. 6:00 Pm.
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15 years of DnD, but only a few weeks in the Realms.... |
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Wolf of the Dark
Acolyte
USA
41 Posts |
Posted - 26 Mar 2007 : 21:02:03
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Open 1/28/07
Little else was found, except that a number of goblins camped here, as evidenced by the ‘bunkroom’ where a lot of grass, brush and rotting blankets were strewn about to form a dozen sleeping wallows. Corvyn didn’t think the place was the best or safest for the night, so they all agreed to move on to “the cave,” a little farther into the Gorge.
After less than an hour’s walk they came to the place they had seen from afar and they gathered firewood and made sure the cave was secure. The large fire pit spoke clearly of the long use the cave had seen.
They tethered the eight mules just outside and fixed dinner. After that it was a matter of setting a two person watch. Corvyn read while he could, at first by firelight then by candlelight. The fire burned low but the night passed quietly until about two hours past midnight. A few goblins snuck into see who was at the cave and they prepared to charge in, but the party from Hill’s Edge was ready for them. They quietly moved the mules inside the cave and spread out.
Bronnen was surprised to find that one little runt had snuck up on him while two others rushed in from dead ahead. That fight was fierce but when the dwarf and his axe clove the sneaky one in two and with that same stroke felled the second bold gobbo, it was soon over with three dead goblins and a very cheerful dwarf crowing about his battle prowess.
Corvyn meanwhile had needed to hold the whole right flank with no one for help but Carlus. Those two did well however, and soon attracted the attention of more of the attackers, and even the two goblin chief-types who had held back at first.
Ella was nearly killed by one gobbo, and Larson ran to her side to provide a healing touch. Durban moved up to hold the middle and make sure the goblins didn’t get to the cave unnoticed.
Bronnen charged to the middle with a roar and quickly moved to help Ella and Larson. One gobbo fled the scene and none were able to stop him. Between them and Corvyn and the big blade of Carlus, they dispatched the last goblin and set to searching them.
They led the mules back into the cave, roped it off with water and grain for the beasts, then set out to follow the one fleeing goblin. The tracks were invisible in the dark but the path was plain as there was no way to get out of the gorge that the trackers could see. In time they came to a twisting bit of the ravine and turned off into an area that led to a few goblin guards. Another fight, thought this one was short, ensued and yet once more that lone goblin fled the scene.
He went up the side of the ravine to a saddle of bare earth then dipped down the other side and out of sight.
While most searched the dead, Carlus crept up and peeked over the top and found that the trail narrowed and bent around a rocky bluff, but plainly continued for some distance into the brushy hills. It looked like a small hole in the wall kind of place, and he thought he saw goblins using ropes to climb the far wall of the little valley or whatever it was. He came back and reported to the rest, and they all decided to go back to the cave, rest and tend their wounds. The next day would be soon enough to press on into the hidden ways of the narrow ravine.
They ended up sleeping nearly all day but got up rested, healed, and ready for a fight or a search for vast treasure.
They headed out toward the hidden trail and once they got there it took little time to discover that the path led to a blind canyon; a small one sunk into the surrounding countryside. On the far side they could see two goblins hauling up a couple bags of loot or some such and down at the bottom they saw two more gobbos cutting up two dead humans. One gobbo seemed to be scalping a large man who had been stripped to his underwear, the other was looking around nervously.
It was late afternoon and the sky was about half covered in big clouds; thunder boomed in the distance. The party of searchers hunkered down overlooking the blind canyon and watched as the goblins hauling loot out of the canyon disappeared over the top on the far side, and two others finished looting or mutilating the dead. Corvyn snuck down toward the two grunting runts, approaching rather closer than he thought possible. The others waited quietly, worried that he would get so close they could not get to him if he got in trouble.
While more thunder boomed and a chill breeze blew in from the west, the party was on the edge of another violent confrontation; but they could also see a large round stone rolled away from before a dark hole in the stone wall. That dark hole was plainly a doorway.
Close at 4:35 PM 13th of Kythorn xp = 650 +600 bonus; total now= 2800
(If you are wondering why the 600 point bonus, it was in part for good playing, and in part to jump up the characters so they could have more fun with the next level a bit sooner-- this campaign is destined to be foreshortened with summer coming on....) |
15 years of DnD, but only a few weeks in the Realms.... |
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Wolf of the Dark
Acolyte
USA
41 Posts |
Posted - 26 Mar 2007 : 21:07:14
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Today another update on the lads from Eastbrook. WE are nearly up to date on the campaign log. A few more games and we'll conclude this campaign, or at least this part of it.
Chapter 2 Into the Dark
Open 2/18/07
As the party congregated in the bottom of the small canyon, they saw the last length of goblin-rope pulled up over the lip to the east. They were on guard for any goblin attack, but Ella and Larson looked at the two bodies the goblins had just finished looting and desecrating. One was a big man, the other a tall, skinny woman.
Ella spoke first, “This is Tanzer, a mercenary with the River Hawks Company out of Hill’s Edge. His face is plain to see, even if he has been scalped. He’s got some kind of burns on him and a bad stab wound, and an arrow in the back. Lars, is that one of the River Hawks there?”
The junior cleric looked up and nodded, “Boa; the spell-bender. They flipped her dress back over her, but I can see they skinned her first. The dress has some big gashes in it – maybe ax wounds. She’s scalped too.”
Carlus walked over, keeping an eye on the cliffs overhead, “Tanzer huh? Yep, looks like him. He was good with a blade, even taught swordcraft back in town. I paid him plenty for lessons last winter. Good man in a fight. He also made it known he didn’t want to be left for the buzzards if he ever got done-in in the back country. I understand he even set aside resurrection money at the Temple of Joy. I think we can get a nice reward for hauling his carcass back to town.”
They buried Boa, but wrapped up Tanzer in an old cloak and the remains of the canvas tent that was collapsed nearby. The River Hawks’ camp was well looted like the bodies. Once that was done, they got their belts hitched up and headed, carefully, for the black doorway into the hill side.
It was the eighth day since fleeing Eastbrook in the night, and only five days since departing Hill’s Edge, that Bronnen and Corvyn looked into the dark tunnel of the recently reopened tomb. The large stone disc had been rolled away from before the opening and stood in a thick clump of concealing bushes. The tunnel stretched straight into the wall of the canyon. The walls they could see were well cut and dressed stone, not unlike what you would see in a lord’s manor house, looked like a castle hallway. The corridor’s far end was lost in the darkness, even to the keen eyes of Bronnen.
They lit several torches, and Carlus lit his hooded lantern, then they started walking the dusty stone floor, following many recent foot prints. So much recent activity indicated that the tomb was only just now being robbed. Everyone walking that passageway thought the same thing, maybe they didn’t get everything; and, maybe there is something so valuable in there all these humans and goblins would kill each other over its possession. A glimmer of greed in their eyes led them onward.
The straight tunnel was of good, well made stonework, but not of dwarven craft. This was some human’s tomb. Fifty or so feet back the six foot wide tunnel opened into a large rectangular room with tall walls and an arched roof; three doors led out of the room and deeper into the tomb.
“Looks like we have lots of burials in this here tomb,” said Carlus, “Maybe we have a clan chief or some such. And all this recent traffic in and out, that bodes well for it being a new find. I bet there’s still some good loot inside.”
As they all gathered in the room, however, they saw a pile of debris by the far wall, and in it was a silver-haired woman’s body. They approached on guard, and looked at her.
“This is Kameo,” said Larson. “I know her too. River Hawks musta got wiped out here in the last day or so. These folk were tough, so we better be damned careful.”
Ella examined the woman, “Looks like something burned off her legs and she was dragged here from that middle doorway there. They didn’t scalp her for some reason. Oh ho. Look here, Corvyn. Something for you I figure. An ivory wand with a quartz bound in gold and silver.” She handed the wand to Corvyn who studied it closely. “She also has her wizard pouch of spell bits too. You may as well take that for your own.”
Bronnen spent some time checking out the three doors, each of which stood open. Tracks went into and out of all, and the tracks were of various sizes. He could not tell exactly who all had been in the tomb, but it looked like bare-foot goblins, booted humans and some bigger tracks in moccasins or the like.
Let’s take the left hand hallway,” said Corvyn. So Bronnen and he led the way along the passage. It was good stonework like the entrance, but with more ornamental tile work on the walls and sculpted pilasters that arched into the overhead. The crypt at the end of the tunnel added a vaulted, blue painted ceiling as well. The blue of the ceiling was painted to look like the star studded sky. Three very dead goblins were piled in the corner.
“The sarcophagus has been pried open, the bones tossed about,” said Corvyn. “Not much else in here from the look of it. Let’s check the middle door back there.”
Within a few minutes they were lined up and creeping along the stone floor of the middle tunnel. They could see some blood stains and the drag marks in the dust. The dead woman must have been deeper in the crypt when she got her legs sheared off.
“Let me check for traps along here,” whispered Durban. The others held back and let him precede the group by a safe distance.
Durban got to the corner about thirty or thirty-five feet further along and then signaled the rest to move up. “Look here at this funny bit. What caused this rock to get all disappeared?”
Bronnen and Corvyn looked at a long roundish cut in the wall to the right (leading deeper into the crypt) and then at the perfectly round hole in the left hand wall. They whispered to one another.
Corvyn said, “Some wizard or a spell trap shot a disintegration ray down here. A big ray, too. This has to be some kind of a trap along here.”
Bronnen could see a woman’s boot lying along the hall some ways ahead. He eased over to the far side of the corridor and pointed at the boot. “Looks like that’s where the woman got it. Everyone stay back and down.” Then he drew his two throwing axes and chucked them one at a time down the hall to see if he could trigger the trap. He hit what he threw at, but no trap went off. “Hell, come on then folks. It looks safe. It musta been some wizard that done the deed.”
They found a large, ornate wooden door at the end of the hall, and Corvyn blasted it with his eldritch energy. The door was damaged enough that when Bronnen booted it a good one, the thing simply smashed apart and they stood staring at a second door three paces further along. That second door was unlocked so they shoved it open. Bronnen and Carlus barged in and stepped aside so Corvyn and Ella would have a line of sight into the room beyond.
What they saw disturbed them. Several dead goblins and a dead gnome surrounded a big pile of something that looked like an inside out stomach or big bag with lots of thick ropes sprouting out of it. The stench of death and burned meat permeated the air.
The room was blasted and charred by fire and still stunk to the high heavens. They stood and looked at the scene for a few moments, and then realized the reason for all the death and mayhem they had seen in the tomb. The “big bag” on the floor was a dead beholder.
Under the beholder was a raised marble dais that had been shoved open and the two people inside had been carelessly searched and looted. Corvyn went to work on the beholder, cutting out the jaws for Bronnen and gathering three of the eyeballs and the ‘magic gland’ to sell to the mage back in Hill’s Edge. Bronnen searched the walls of the mosaic walled crypt and found three secret compartments hidden behind the fancy tile.
In the first compartment were two wedding rings on silky pillows; the second held a simple gold crown for a duke or king; and the third held a book of genealogy for a man, King Olaf Lightbringer, and woman, his queen, who ruled the kingdom. The secret of this king and warlord’s tomb had held for many a long year, but the lure of gold and the curiosity of adventurers and tomb raiders had won out in the end.
Less than an hour after entering the tomb, they started down the last tunnel into the deep crypts. Stairs led down and to the right, then turned yet again and ended in a small chamber with a door leading deeper into the complex. A damaged old warding symbol was scuffed up on the floor in front of the door. They all proceeded carefully, but with no thought of turning back.
They found a large octagonal room, with fancy mosaic tiled walls and many rotted tapestries hanging about or fallen to the floor. A large hole was plain to see in the floor and overhead in the ceiling. A hole large enough for the beholder, and probably of its making. They searched the area and found a body under some tapestries in the corner.
Corvyn discovered the dead guy was a gnome. Ella said he was a River Hawk too. His name was McGrinser. Corvyn found that he had a few useful possessions on him: a bone locket with a silver clasp had a lock of hair and a magical ring inside. He put on the ring and felt good about doing so; kind of lucky in fact. The ring needed some study, he thought.
The airy breeze from the beholder hole was light but fresh. The depth, as tested by Bronnen chucking a torch into the hole, was great – over a hundred feet. The hole in the ceiling was only about 20 feet. They had amongst them about 40-50 feet of rope so they decided to climb up instead of falling down. Carlus had a small grappling hook and made the cast; he succeeded on the third try. The rope was stout but the hook was a light one, good for maybe three hundred pounds at most.
The room above was an old orc shaman burial chamber, and a big one. It was at least a hundred feet long and forty feet wide. It was also full of dead orcs and two dead ogres. The room was sealed by a cave in at one end, so how the creatures came to die was not immediately obvious. Not immediately, but soon enough.
Lurching out of the darkness the just assembled group heard some movement and then saw two foul creatures of the underdark come sliming into view: a grick and a huge carrion crawler. The crawler stopped to eat two orcs, in a noisy, sloppy fashion, leaving glowing puddles of slime wherever it paused for more than a few heartbeats. The grick rushed to the attack, its four tentacles ready to grasp anything they touched. The grick’s central maw had clicking teeth or beaks….
Bronnen faced the grick with Durban while Ella and Larson cast spells to bless and otherwise aid the group. Carlus and Corvyn faced the crawler with a bit of nervous anticipation. The fight was brief and the damage of Ella’s spiritual spear and Corvyn’s eldritch blast did much to hurt the beasts. Corvyn ended the life of the grick and they all helped kill the carrion crawler, but not before it attacked and poisoned Carlus.
Before they could catch their breath however, three walking skeletons strode boldly into the room from the adjoining room. Ella tried to turn them back with the light and will of her god’s might, but only one fled. The other two attacked Bronnen and Durban, Carlus was still paralyzed by the poison of the crawler. The fight was again brief, and no further wounds were taken by the living, but the skeletons were smashed to oblivion.
Everyone held still, waiting for whatever was next. They caught their breath and thought they may be safe, but Ella remembered the one fleeing skeleton. Then they all heard the scraping of many bones, the stamping of many booted feet and the clink-clank of weapons and armor. All of it in the next room. Luckily, Carlus was shaking off the effects of the poison and drank deeply from his waterskin. They were at full strength and nearly ready to fight again. It was no use trying to run since only one at a time could get down the rope into the human level of the tombs.
Close 6:00 PM 13th Kythorn xp reserved
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15 years of DnD, but only a few weeks in the Realms.... |
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Wolf of the Dark
Acolyte
USA
41 Posts |
Posted - 30 Mar 2007 : 04:36:53
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Here's the next update to teh log...
Open 3/4/07
Bronnen eased toward the archway leading into the next chamber. At least one other skeleton was in there hiding. Ella held up her hand to slow him down, and at the same time grasped her holy symbol in the other hand. She muttered some inspirational words and the symbol glowed briefly. Behind them Carlus coughed and spit, then stamped his feet several times.
Ella was the first to speak, “There are more than one undead in there, and there is a sense of other, old, powers. Death has a strong hold on this place. A cursed place, possibly.”
Carlus coughed again and then sneezed, “Well give me a second to get some feeling back in my arms and legs, will ya. If we’re gonna fight some more, I need to catch my breath. Damned Carrion Eaters; that’s the second time I’ve run into one of those Crawlers.”
Bronnen looked to Corvyn, who nodded or shrugged, the dwarf wasn’t quite sure, and figured that since no one was saying to stay put, he’d walk ahead a ways. He passed under the stone archway and turned a bit to face down the long room. A recently kindled brazier burned away, smoking and sputtering. It gave enough light to see six stone biers with funeral-wrapped corpses upon them, two dead people lying in fairly fresh pools of blood and another doorway at the far end. The far doorway was blocked by a cave-in like the first chamber.
“Well, this room is a bit smaller than that one back there,” he told the stragglers. We have a couple dead guys that didn’t fare too well against the skeletons and there are six dead orcs piled on burial stones. Looks safe enough to me. Let’s bash those two bone-guards.”
The others were up even with Bronnen and even Carlus shrugged his shoulders. Bronnen started up the middle of the chamber, along an aisle that led between the stone biers. Carlus started forward slowly on the left along the wall and Larson walked to the right with Corvyn. Ella stayed behind Bronnen, but well back. Durban raised his hand to protest, but by the time he spoke, it was too late.
Bronnen strode boldly up the middle of the crypt, seeing the three biers in a row to the left and three to the right. Then he noticed the two skeleton guards at the far end of the room turn and start trotting toward him. That got his attention, but did not stop his feet, one of which had just scuffed a dust covered rune-ward. The rune glowed with magical energy. His other foot stepped on a trap door which sprung downward with a clang and a whir of gears and chains.
“Yaaiie!” bellowed Bronnen, one of his throwing axes flew off wildly as he spun his arms for balance. The axe clanked to the floor behind him but he managed to hop back from the open pit trap and stare down into the deep hole. Somewhere below counter weights were grinding and clunking away as the trap doors reset themselves. The two skeleton guardians were nearly on him by then. Even worse, two of the reclining corpses rose from the stone slabs and took up their weapons, eye sockets burning with red fire.
Bronnen threw his second ax and hit one of the bone guards, and then he drew his big ax from his belt, “Let’s chop up some dead stuff!”
Corvyn cut loose with an eldritch blast but the guardian took the whole force on his battered shield. The shield shed wood, metal, rust and leather chunks, but remained on his boney arm. Ella spoke a blessing of Llira from the rear and the divine energy swelled around the living. Larson held steady beside Corvyn.
The two skeletons circled the pit trap and one came at Bronnen while the other went for Corvyn. Carlus yelled from the side, “I can take that one down in one swing.” But Carlus’ swing missed badly and left him skidding off balance in the loose grit and pebbles on the flagstones.
“I shoulda taken that bet!” shouted Bronnen. “Now watch how it’s done.”
Bronnen backed up a step and ran to jump the pit trap. He made it and bulled into the guardian, shoving the dead thing back several feet. Then the two began to trade hacks, cuts, chops and assorted pummelings. The dwarf was nearly singing with joy.
Corvyn on the other hand met with repeated resistance to his eldritch blasts. Then he saw a third skeleton stand up from a burial bier. Then, at the back of the crypt, the other three skeletons stood up and started walking toward the intruders. Corvyn chucked a flask of holy water at one, then a few seconds later tossed a second flask at another. He hit both times and the blessed liquid splashed about, burning and smoking where it touched the unholy dead.
Durban ran in to help out Bronnen, who had taken a few small cuts from one bone guard before dispatching it. On the other side of the fight, Corvyn, Larson and Ella destroyed the second guard. Now only six remained, but they were all pressing forward.
Bronnen jumped up on a bier to get at the undead better, but he slipped a bit and missed his first swing on one of the fully dressed and armored undead orcs. He didn’t let one little problem get in the way though, and kept hacking and chopping away.
Ella could see that Bronnen had taken several wounds, so she rushed up and laid a hand upon him, giving a gift of Llira’s healing to the dwarf. She leaped back as soon as she could and was able to avoid being attacked.
Durban was the next to slip as he stepped on a leg bone that rolled out from under him. He took a nasty tumble.
Bronnen crushed the first of the six and in the process spotted the rune charged vertebrae glowing at the back of the rib cage. Corvyn had seen the rune wards on the floor and then the glowing runes on the guardian’s vertebrae, too. He was able to put two and two together: the vertebrae were the ‘hearts’ of the bone guards and they were tied to the trap runes. Too late now.
Larson took several wounds in short order and Corvyn had to pull him back to use a healing scroll on him. But no sooner had Larson charged back at the guard he faced then he fell over something, a loose flagstone or some rocks… he hit the ground so hard he knocked himself out. Corvyn was still looking at the glowing runes on the floor and said loudly, “These dead, they may be illusions tied to the rune wards. Look, the bones of the dead appear back on the stone biers once you destroy them.” Sure enough, the “undead” reappeared as interred corpses once defeated.
Bronnen Carlus and Durban, who was back on his feet, managed to smash another guard and then they split up to work on the rest. That was when a glow of magic in the far back of the crypt announced a new undead guard. This new one was a dwarf in heavy armor. Some kind of champion undoubtedly held here under a geas to guard the ones who had killed him long past.
The dwarf champion walked toward Bronnen gripping a big ax with evil intent and fire in his eye sockets. Motes of arcane flux flickered around him and fell to the floor. Power glowed all about him.
Whether the bone guards were illusions or not mattered little by then as the last two were destroyed and only the dwarf champion remained. It slugged it out with Bronnen and Ella on one side, Carlus on another and Durban opposite Bronnen.
While that fight raged on, Corvyn ran to the back of the chamber and found the rune ward that lay under the rubble from which the champion had risen. As he ran he empowered his senses with the ability to detect magic auras and looked about with a blue-glow shining from his eyes. Four shining gemstones were imbedded in the champion’s flagstone and Corvyn stamped on each as fast as he could, shattering three before he heard a loud cheer from behind.
The dwarf champion had wounded Bronnen again, and severely wounded Carlus. Ella took a moment to once again cast a healing spell upon Bronnen just before he landed a massive blow that shattered the spine of the undead dwarf.
The light faded from the dwarf skull and silence descended on the crypt once more.
Corvyn and Durban started the search looking for more rune wards, but they found none that were un-triggered. After that the search of the area began in earnest.
Bronnen came away with a fine helm and an enchanted shield, as well as the battered remnants of the champion’s once fine armor and its chipped and shatter-hafted ax. Corvyn found a bottle of magical liquid, a magical cloak of great beauty and ‘presence,’ as well as an amulet of bodily protection. Some few other bits were collected also, and Larson and Ella found a large quantity of raw materials such as they had come after.
The crypt provided a solid haul of loot and goods. Bronnen could get the shattered ax repaired in Hill’s Edge, most likely, and the bits of armor would be worth some gold. Corvyn also came away with some very expensive items that would greatly aid them in their journey to Candle Keep.
They bundled up what they could carry and got ready to leave. The only question now was whether to go back down the way they’d come in or to see if they could dig out through the caved in crypt entrance. The fire burning in the brazier had died down to embers and a little smoke. Torches and lanterns had to be lit for the final search of the crypt.
They looked at the two dead adventurers and noted that they looked like hired help for the River Hawks. If any of the ‘Hawks were still alive, there was no sign of them in that dark, old crypt.
Close about 6:30 PM when done; an hour or so before sunset.
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15 years of DnD, but only a few weeks in the Realms.... |
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Wolf of the Dark
Acolyte
USA
41 Posts |
Posted - 30 Mar 2007 : 04:42:46
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The following narrative is a bit lacking, my apologies. The game saw a lot of action and a guest player taking control of an NCP- it was much better than it sounds from reading the below tale....
Game Open 3/11/07
The tomb was quiet and they agreed it was a good time to set a guard and get some sleep. Ella and Larson especially needed rest in order to recuperate from the draining spells they’d worked. Even the dwarf, though, needed rest and time for their wounds to start healing.
They had a meal of jerky, warm soup and hard bread. The tomb, though very smoky from the fire in the brazier, at least had a bit of light and warmth, and the fire let them heat the water for the soup.
Early the next morning, perhaps two hours before sunrise, Corvyn had the watch and was just thinking of waking Bronnen when he heard a noise echo up the shaft in the next chamber of the crypt. He paused and listened a bit more then woke Bronnen and the others.
There were certainly some goblins down the hole and likely something else. Corvyn went so far as to peek over the edge and saw a couple goblins peering down the hole to its bottommost depths. In that far distance glowed a small fire, a torch or burning rags most likely, and it illuminated a big orc who waved his arms and looked like he was giving orders.
The group got around the shaft and decided to use the three potions of levitation to drop onto the gobos and kill them while they were distracted. A good plan under certain circumstances, but one fraught with peril, too.
Carlus started the attack by dropping two large rocks over the edge and thereby cleared the descent for a short while. Down went Bronnen with Ella and they nearly overshot the mark. They were off balance and unused to the strange levitation magic but both managed, barely, to get their feet up and over solid rock. Right behind them were Carlus and Larson who had a bit less trouble.
From the start they began the clumsy process of fighting the three goblins and one orc around the entrance pit to the deeper caverns. The levitation potions kept Carlus and Bronnen from staying planted on the ground, and as they bounced around the room, they managed a few good cuts and bashes to the enemy. While they did that, Corvyn and Durban sallied forth into the fray.
Corvyn unleashed his eldritch blasts and even used his new-learned abilities to shape his thoughts, and he used those powers to good result. Durban got in a few good cuts too, but not without a cost. Bronnen and Carlus looked comical in their fighting but spilled blood and ended up killing two goblins. Ella cast a blessing over the heroes, but Larson was badly wounded anyway.
When only the orc and one goblin stood upright, another big orc hustled into the room and started bashing away at Bronnen, knocking him nearly out and over the shaft into the deeps. The fight was a foregone conclusion however, since the enemy had too few reinforcements, and so the bodies were hurled into the dark hole along with a couple of their oil soaked, burning cloaks. The fire below caused other creatures to howl and snarl at their horrible luck.
After that the six expeditionaries grabbed on and used the last of the levitation powers to rise back up the shaft to the orc tomb. Once there, they hid and rested for a time. Bronnen at least used his time well by searching for a way out through the collapsed stairway into the smaller crypt. Over the remainder of the night and early morning Bronnen wrested stones from the pile of rubble and worked open a narrow tunnel to a stair of dwarf-worked granite. There he pushed up some large ceiling panels and found open air to stretch into. It was none too soon either, since when he crawled back to the others they told him of noises like a fight in the lower tunnels and how many goblins or rocs were screaming and probably dying down below. As one they looked at the exit tunnel and started for the only good way out of the tombs.
Once up the stairs Bronnen found they had entered an abandoned and long ruined mead hall from some dwarf hold. There were no signs of clan-ship or ownership. They pressed on and found another stairway that led up to a small cave with a stout wooden door. Around the edges of the door were cracks revealing the great outdoors and a sunny day.
The cave was small and hung thickly with orc or goblin fetishes and curtains of tiny bones, feathers and claws. Plainly this was a sacred place to the orcs who still frequented it. The floor had some glyphs of some kind painted on it and in the corner was a place of blood sacrifice.
Wincing with a few aches and pains, not to mention some wounds still seeping blood, Bronnen said, “We should be cautious, friends.”
They opened the door with a bit of care and craftiness, and looked about. All was quiet. They took that cue to draw on a few bits of healing from Ella, Larson and the scrolls they carried along. They looked at each other at the reading of the last scroll, as if to say, “That well is gone dry now.”
It was mid morning when they left the cave and started out to find the path back to the cave where the mules had been left. Bronnen thought it only about three miles or so as the crow flies.
They crossed an open meadow and entered a wooded area. Less than a half mile from the orc cave they heard the snarling and thrashing of animals fighting up ahead. They crept a bit closer and saw a harrowing sight: a hook horror trying to rip apart a still very lively and angry owlbear. The hook horror was plainly hurt, but both still looked plenty strong and mean.
A move on someone’s part drew the attention of both beasts and in a flash they turned from the carrion goblins at their feet and charged the live prey.
The ensuing fight left all the crew sorely wounded, Carlus nearly to death, and by the time it was done all realized they had narrowly cheated Kelemvor, God of Death that day. Durban had dropped the owlbear at the last, after it had been hacked nearly to death by Bronnen and the others, but he had to step away from certain death in the hooks of the other beast and let Bronnen land a mighty blow that almost instantly killed the subterranean horror. It would in fact take a couple days just for them to get strong enough to ride or walk back to Hill’s Edge.
Everyone had earned their pay for the day and were tired and beat half to death. They rested a ways off to the side and drank water before starting again for the mules. They were still up on a low plateau and the woods made it a bit hard to tell where they needed to go. They knew it would be a long day yet.
Close 11:00 AM 14th Kythorn
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15 years of DnD, but only a few weeks in the Realms.... |
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dwarvenranger
Senior Scribe
USA
428 Posts |
Posted - 26 Apr 2007 : 15:10:23
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| Sounds like a good straightforward story, Wolf. No politics, just good old adventuring, I hate politics, it reminds me of work. |
If I waited till I knew what I was doing, I'd never get anything done.
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boddynock
Learned Scribe
Belgium
258 Posts |
Posted - 04 May 2007 : 10:47:50
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| it's indeed a good story. keep up the good work :) |
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Wolf of the Dark
Acolyte
USA
41 Posts |
Posted - 08 May 2007 : 16:42:08
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| I have some more notes, but not much, since the summer is nearly here and one of the guy's wife got pretty sick. GAme on hiatus til fall... |
15 years of DnD, but only a few weeks in the Realms.... |
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Jimbobx
Learned Scribe
United Kingdom
109 Posts |
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The Hardbuckler Boys
