Sunday, September 30, 2012

Character Spotlight - Jurgen Frangst

Campaign: LEGACY the Path of Heroes
Class: Barbarian
Level: 5
Race: Human (Suel)
Alignment: Neutral

STR 19  DEX 16  CON 18  INT 10  WIS 10  CHA 15  CMS ??

Jurgen grew up in the foothills of the Griff Mountains, north of the Timberway forest. At an early age he learnt to live off the land and how to survive in the hostile environment of his native land, the Hold of the frost barbarians.

At 16, he left his home to seek his fortune. He adventured through the Griff Mountains and though the Troll Fens where he hooked up with a band of slave traders outside Rakervale? The general population of Pale are oppressed by religious inquisitors and make obedient slaves. They plied their trade along the river running from the Troll Fens to the Nyr Dyv. It was here that he had a fall out with the leader of the band over a particularly attractive slave girl, whom they captured outside Stoink. The dispute ended with Jurgen having to flee for his life. After some time he started working the caravans in Radigast City to earn some gold. After many months he eventually worked his way to Safeton, where he signed up as a guard for a caravan headed for Verbobonc.

The caravan was attacked as they entered into the Gnarly forest, just before night fall by bandits. Once again Jurgen kept his wits about him and he managed to escape. This time he decided enough was enough and it was time for payback. He tracked the attackers to the Village of Nulb, after which he tracked a small band of bandits deeper into the forest. It was late in the winter evening when they arrived at a small secluded cottage deep in the forest. Seeking shelter and wanting to keep a watchful eye, Jurgen climbed one of the big Bronzewoods, where he pulled his winter blanket over his shoulders and plotted his revenge.

Character Spotlight - Anmaren Highcrown

Campaign: LEGACY the Path of Heroes
Class: Paladin
Level: 5
Race: Human (Suel)
Alignment: Neutral

STR 17  DEX 17  CON 15  INT 14  WIS 15  CHA 17  CMS ??

Anmar (an abbreviation of his full name, Anmaren Highcrown) is a resident of the city of Dyvers, attached to the Holy Order of the Chapeaux of Saint Cuthbert that is based there, although the headquarters of his order is located in the city of Verbobonc. He is a tall man, at over 6’ 2”, and has an athletic build that is more sinewy than pure muscle. His ancestry is mixed Oeridian and Suel, but his features favour the Oeridian blood that runs proudly in his veins. He has dark brown hair, usually cropped short, and piercing grey eyes, and although he is regarded as handsome, he is not a vain man.

Anmar often appears detached and reserved to strangers, with a certain bearing or manner of carrying himself that some perceive as arrogance. In actual fact, Anmar can be relaxed and at ease with his friends and those he trusts, and in the past he was not above a night of carousing and wenching with his fellow knights in the days before they took their Investment Rites. Nowadays, his duties have given him a slightly more cautious attitude to frivolous behaviour, but he still enjoys a glass of good wine, and considers himself somewhat of an authority on the best vintages of Dyvers and Verbobonc, and the surrounding areas.

He does not openly discuss his family history, but the Knightly Rolls of both Furyondy and the Shield Lands include several mentions of the Highcrown name, and it would seem that he may have originally hailed from one of these nations. Why he made the move to Verbobonc as a young man, presenting himself at the Temple of Saint Cuthbert at the age of 24, he has not yet revealed, but he has taken up his calling late in life, and is a good five years or so older than most of his peers.

It was perhaps this maturity that drove the Father Superior of the Order of the Stars in Dyvers to select Anmar to undertake a journey southwards in pursuit of a certain drunken cleric of Saint Cuthbert. In addition, Anmar has gained something of a reputation as being a hot-head at times, and he has a somewhat brutal attitude when it comes to dealing with non-believers, especially those with an evil disposition. Perhaps his superiors believe an extended stay in the wilds may temper some of that fire….

Character Spotlight - Darius Monn

Campaign: LEGACY the Path of Heroes
Class: Druid 3 / Wizard 1
Level: 4
Race: Human (Suel)
Alignment: Neutral

STR 08  DEX 10  CON 12  INT 17  WIS 21  CHA 12  CMS 08

Born into the Daraman noble family, Elias was always a thoughtful and quiet child. He had a sharp intellect and wisdom beyond his years, but unfortunately he lacked the concience to use them properly.

For years he seeked to aid his parents into strengthening House Daramon's position in Verbobonc, but his father was never willing to employ the tactics he suggested they use to that end. At the age of 25 he decided to turn his back on his own family and persue his own fortune - at any cost.

Within 10 years his ambitions led him to betray his own house in exchange for position and wealth in a powerful rival House. For once his cunning betrayed him however - he severely miscalulated the lengths the rival house would go to.

One early winters morning he found himself kneeling in the ashes of what remained of his family estate and his family who were trapped inside as their home burnt. He fled, trying to forget all he had done and forsaking the trappings of wealth and power he so long sought. He secluded himself in the Fens of Tor, keeping himself apart from humanity in the hopes of supressing his darker impulses.

During his long years in the fens he encountered many strange creatures, among them Irriana, a willow dryad. An unlikely friendship developed between Elias (now calling himself Darius Monn) and the dryad. He brought her what little news he received of the outside world, and in exchange she tought him about nature and the magic it contained.

  ... R.I.P - Darius Monn ...

Character Spotlight - Seta Aidala

Campaign: LEGACY the Path of Heroes
Class: Magus
Level: 5
Race: Human (Suel)
Alignment: Neutral

STR ??  DEX ??  CON ??  INT ??  WIS ??  CHA ??  CMS ??

Mother watched the boat draw away from the dock and make its way down the river with a sense of relief. That group of misfits had been useful in a way, but they had been a lot more trouble than they are worth. Maybe they would succeed at the temple, maybe they will get themselves killed, but either way is a win for her. She was particularly happy to see the back of the old druid. He had a dark look in his eyes that she had only seen in one other man before, a man she had to end up putting down before he lost control.

For the first time in years doubt assails her – in her eagerness to get rid of them she had made a mistake, they are going to need watching. They could do untold damage if her connection to them should be revealed to the wrong people. With an annoyed curse Mother draws her shawl around her and heads to the edge of town. Thinking of the man she had once known had reminded her of the one legacy he had left her. A nasty smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. The girl will be hard to convince, but it would be another win-win situation for her – at worst she will be rid of a thorn that has been troubling her for the better part of three decades.

Cloaking herself in silence she approaches the modest hut on the outskirts of town. She circles around the building and approaches the back door. Testing the latch she realises it is unlocked. Tsk tsk, the girl should know better.  Quietly she slips into the poorly lit hut.  Several rags, a sharpening stone, a bottle of oil and a jar of weapon-black is arrayed on a reed mat in the centre of the room. Her only warning is an rustling sound as something soft and rope like coils around her throat.

“Staying in practice mother?”, Seta croons as she slides into view from behind the door. She was wearing a suit of mail, and holding her father’s wickedly curved sword casually in one hand. The girl had a pretty enough face, but a misspent youth and years of swordplay had left it crisscrossed with fine scars and nose slightly askew from an improperly set break. The arrogant grin on it was purely her fathers, and set Mothers teeth on edge.

“It is always a good idea to stay in practice, daughter. Did you get all dressed up for me, or were you expecting someone else?”

“One should always be properly dressed for company, you taught me that.”
“Quite. Now are you going to release? You’re not too old for a spanking.”. Mother notices that Seta hesitates for almost a full second. The girl has guts, she will give her that. She is actually considering making a move!
“My apologies mother, I know much you hate doling out punishment.”. Seta walks to mat and plops down in front of it, as her sleek black hair shortens and re-coils itself into a waist length braid. Picking up one of the rags she resumes cleaning the worn, but razor-sharp blade.

“Why do you still have that old thing? I would have thought you would have gotten rid of it years ago and replaced it with something better?”
“It serves me well enough. Any particular reason for your visit, or just feeling chatty?”

Mother lashes out with her staff and cuffs Seta on the ear: “Silence girl! I’ve had to punish one of daughters already today, don’t think our blood tie makes you immune!”

“I have a task for you. You must have heard of the group of so called adventurers making trouble in town?”
Seta’s only answer is a noncommittal grunt.
“Last night they fought a battle outside the tavern. During the brawl Blackwolf, Balabar and Vex got killed”
Seta turns around with a laugh, “Ha! Balabar you say? Am I supposed to be outraged or something? Do you know he had me cornered and alone once?”
Seta shrugs, “’And’  he learned an important lesson that night. You taught me well… in that regard. Are you going to get to a point anytime soon?”
“The group is on their way to the temple now. Their goals and mine coincide for now and I would like it to stay that way for as long as possible. I want you to join them.”
Seta laughs harshly. “Are you serious? Do you think me…” She suddenly stops and cocks her head to one side. Various emotions flash across her face and finally settles on annoyance.
“Fine, Fine, I hear you! What do you want me to do once I join them?”
Disregarding her daughters strange, but quick acceptance Mother continues, “For now, just help them, but protect my… our interests. They seem to trust me they should accept you easily enough.”
“If they trust you, then they can’t be too bright. It shouldn’t be too hard to steer their course. But first, tell me about them and what is in it for me…”

An hour later Seta watches her mother hobble from her hut. Despite her pretence of infirmity the woman can still move like a cat. It had been pure chance that Seta had been retrieving a leather binding from behind the door. He heart had nearly leaped from her chest when it had opened without a sound. She had reacted without thinking and when she realised who she had caught her heart did leap from her chest.

Having finished cleaning the blade she picks it up and take the first stance of her morning exercise routine.
“I do believe she intends to get you killed”, a  voice murmurs in her mind.
“Any other words of belated wisdom Father? Maybe about how blue the sky is or how wet water is?”
“No need for sarcasm. Pull in your left foot, you are leaving your right flank exposed.”
Correcting her stance Seta, restarts the exercise. “YOU were the one that made me accept her offer. I actually felt you trying to force me. You know I hate it when you do that.”

“I’m sorry, but it is very important that we go to the temple.”

“Why? What is there you so desperately seek?”

“Your left foot is still too far out. Correct and start again”

“Your avoiding the question.”

“Correct and start again.”

With a sigh, Seta corrects her stance and once again starts the exercise.

“When we are done you need to clean my pommel again. You missed a spot.”

“Yes, Father.”

Thursday, August 23, 2012

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 023

SESSION 023 - The Cabin in the Woods

The wet wood sputtered and crackled as it started to burn. The moisture in the wood caused thick grey tendrils of smoke to drift up into the darkness of the chimney. The half-orc pulled his thick cloak around his shoulders, before kneeling before the fire to warm his large hands. The cabin was getting colder with the approach of evening; and the half orc felt a rumble in his stomach with the approach of supper.

The companions had spent better part of the day clearing the cabin and the barn of the dead bodies of the earlier battle. Jurgen had spent most of his morning gathering the silky strands from the giant spiders and placed it in some large sacks he had found in the old barn.

Seta watched as the young barbarian gathered up with spidery webs, shaking her head as she start burn the remaining strands of web from the cabin’s walls and rafters, this seemed to spur the barbarian to work faster in gathering the silky strands much to his frustration and to her delight.

Duerin and Markus had spent the afternoon finding a place to bury the bodies. They eventually found a place some way off from the back of the barn that was nicely secluded deeper in the forest. Duerin began the rites of passage as soon as Markus dropped the last body into the shallow grave they had just freshly dug. The Cuthbertine priest had felt it necessary to give these men a proper burial, so that they could find peace and be guided by the hand of St. Cuthbert in the afterlife.

That evening the friends gathered in the large cottage and raised a toast to their friend Duerin, as the dwarf and the girl would take their leave in the morning. Duerin assured the young barbarian that he would get the girl to her family in Verbobonc after they had rested in Hommlet and he had a chance to speak to Brother Terjon

The friends never forgot where they were, even though they spent the night in merriment and toasts to their friend, so too did they too keep a vigil eye.

Seta had placed her sword within easy reach from where she was seated should the need arise. Her telepathic bond with her weapon had kept her ever aware of any approaching danger.

Soon the friends turned in for the night, not wanting to overindulge in the night’s festivities as morning would bring new challenges. Each of the companions  took their turn to stand guard in case of danger until morning.

As luck would have it the companions evening past uneventfully.

Duerin prepared a nice warm porridge for breakfast and not long after they had eaten then dwarf and the young girl said their goodbyes. They climbed up on their horses and turned to leave.

The companions watched as the dwarf and the girl trotted down the path into the forest before losing sight of them. Markus patted Erehwon on his shoulder as they turned and headed back into the cabin.

The weather soon took a turn for the worst and the friends found themselves snowed in with little to do. Markus and Jurgen had managed to secure the remaining horses in the barn before the weather had turned really bad. Jurgen settled down close by the fire and continued to work on his piece of scrimshaw while chewing on a piece of dried meat.

Markus and Erehwon meanwhile had taken a bet to see who could find a hidden compartment in the cabin. They searched the cabin high and low for the lack of anything better to do, each intending to outdo the other. They moved the barrels and the bolts of cloth around that they had found earlier. Jurgen reminded them that some of the goods belong to the surviving merchant’s daughter that had left with Duerin. Jurgen had been employed to protect the daughter and the merchant's goods, but had failed to do so. He had promised the dying merchant that he would get his girl and goods home safely.

It wasn’t long after when the half-orc let out a cry of joy as he found a trap door hidden under a rug under a table in the corner of the cabin. Markus reached into his pocket begrudgingly and pulled out gold coin. He flicked it over to the half-orc, “Next time you won’t be so lucky!” said Markus as he made his way over to the half-orc.

Erehwon caught the coin with grin, before reaching down and pulling open the trapdoor. The door creaked open to reveal a small dark opening with a narrow flight of stone steps leading off into the darkness.

Climbing down the steps Erehwon and Markus found themselves in a small dry cellar. Markus’s torch flared to life. The cellar was packed with  large barrels. The barrels were marked with writing indicating that’s some were wine from Celen, others brandy from Keoland and at least one or two marked with dwarven symbols. Bolts of cloth of different patterns and colours were packed in a corner, some as far Wooly Bay other as far as from across the Nyr Dyv. Amongst the barrels and bolts of cloth were also portraits, chests and crates of different sizes. Looking through the stuff they found an assortments of clothes, letters, coins, jewellery and other personal items.

So the friends spent the rest of the afternoon searching through the items for information or anything of use or value.

Seta sat leaning her chair back against the wall watching the half-orc and Markus picking through the items that they had discovered in the cellar. She could just see out of the window that was next to her, the way she was seated. Resting her head against the wall she looked through the narrow gap and could see that the storm had started to let up. Settling back into the chair she closed her eyes and started to dose off….

“SETA! SETA!” called the sword. The young woman jumped from her chair as the words tore her from her slumber.

Peering through the narrow slit Seta could just make out a band of people entering the clearing that lead up to the cabin. The group in the lead seemed to be bound and were being spurred on by what looked to be men with spears. One of the men in the front called the group to stop, as they approached the clearing. The man turned to talk to a tall figure that had stepped up alongside him as did two men with bows drawn and arrows nocked.

The tall figure stepped forward, its thick cloak obscuring its features as it seemed to be focused on the cabin before it.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 022

SESSION 022 - The Betrayal

Seta sat in the corner of the tower on a rickety chair and watched the companions as they settled in for the evening. “What had mother got her into this time …” she thought as she chewed on a bit of dry trail rations.

Looking across the room the saw the dead druid’s body lying on the far table covered with the black cloth that the half-orc had torn from the fortified window. The half-orc had started to gathered the druid’s belongings and was stuffing them into a large pack he found lying nearby.

Seta sensed someone was watching her, looking up she caught the one called Markus watching her. When her eyes met his he quickly looked down and continued cleaning his large axe. She continued to watch him as he went about cleaning his weapon, she could see that she was unsettling him. Every now again he would stop to take a swig from the bottle of Keolandish brandy he had found sitting next to him.

Seta’s attention soon switched to the dwarf who was busy over at the hearth making some sort of meal, she guessed. The kitchen wasn’t her place; she got by with what she had in her backpack and with what coinage was in her pocket. She never found the need to learn a lesser skill liking cooking.

After watching Duerin for a bit she found her thoughts drifting to that of her father, as she flicked the dagger from one hand to the other. She looked at the old blade that rested on the chair in the centre of the room with the rest of her belongings. “Keep your left knee facing your opponent Seta, feel your blade in your hand let it become an extension of you,” instructed her father. “Let your opponent strike first, use his momentum against him, let his anger get the better of him, he will soon tire.” She heard her father say as they went about their lessons. Seta’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted with a loud crash as a clay jar exploded above Markus’s head.

“Y-y-o-o-u and that dumb oaf, Erehwon almost killed me in that room!” screamed Siam. “What were you thinking when you closed the door and trapped me in the room with that poisonous gas? Did you even stop to think what you were doing other than to save your own miserable arse? I have a good mind to run you through,” cursed the young rogue as she grabbed Markus.

“Come on Siam, it wasn’t that bad. I knew you would be alright,” grinned Markus. “It all worked out in the end,” he said as he slapped her hands away.

“This is not over!” Spat Siam, glaring at both Markus and the half-orc. “Far from over …” She said as she walked across the room and settled down in the corner.

Duerin tried his best to change the sober mood by of the group, but not even his cheery disposition or his warm meal helped.

After the meal the companions settled in for the evening and soon they were a sleep. Markus weary of what Siam said and might do to him, kept a close watch on the rogue, but soon the warmth of the room and lack of sleep overcome the young ranger.

“Seta … Seta … The human female is gone,” called the sword. Seta felt the urgent call of her sword in her head, her eyes opened to a quiet, dimly lit room. Seta made her way across the room to retrieve her sword.

“One moment she was there, then the next she wasn’t. I could just sense her footfalls as she crossed the room, before she slipped into the far chamber. She remained in the chamber for some time before I could no longer sense her, it was as if she just vanished. ” said the sword.

Crossing the room to the chamber Seta tried to open the door, but found that the door was jammed. “Markus, Erehwon, get up! The bitch has run away,” shouted Seta.

Jurgen followed the group of men through the dense brush to a small clearing with large cottage and a barn. He could make out the sounds of horse from within the barn, as he watched the men enter the cottage.

The barbarian realised that he better get comfortable and brace himself for a long cold night. He dare not make a fire, but at least he had his thick fur cloak to keep him warm. Jurgen found a suitable tree that over looked the cottage and gave him enough cover and protection to settled down in. Using his rope the barbarian secured himself to the tree in case he should fall during the night. Sitting on the branched he checked that the looped he had made would provide him with a quick escape if the need should arise. 

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 021

SESSION 021 - The Broken Tower

The Temple ground is spotted with rank weeds and some foot falls are evident in the grey muddy sludge of the freshly fallen morning snow. The vegetation is disconcerting dead trees with a skeletal appearance, scrub growth twisted and unnaturally coloured, all unhealthy and sickly looking. The ruins of the Temple's outer works appear as dark and overgrown mounds of grey rubble and blackish weeds. Skulls and bones of humans and humanoids gleam white here and there amidst the weeds. A grove of some oddly stunted and unhealthy looking Usk trees still grow along the northern end of the former Temple compound. A stump of a tower juts up from the northeast corner of the shattered wall. 

The leprous grey Temple, however, stands intact; it’s arched buttresses somehow obscene with their growth of climbing vegetation. Everything surrounding the place is disgusting. The myriad leering faces and twisting, contorted forms writhing and posturing on every face of the Temple seem to jape at the obscenities they depict. The growth in the compound is rank and noisome. Thorns clutch, burrs stick, and crushed stems either emit foul stench or raise angry wheals on exposed flesh. Worst of all, however, is the pervading fear which seems to hang over the whole area, a smothering, clinging, almost tangible cloud of vileness and horror. Sounds seem distorted, either muffled and shrill or unnaturally loud and grating. 

Your eyes play tricks on you as you walk. You see darting movements out of the corner of your eye, just at the edge of vision; but when you shift your gaze towards such, of course, there is nothing there at all. You cannot help but wonder who or what made the maze of narrow paths through the weedy courtyard. What sort of thing would wander here and there around the ghastly edifice of Evil without shrieking and gibbering and going completely mad? Yet the usual mundane sounds of your travel are accompanied only by the chorus of the winds, moaning through hundreds of Temple apertures built to sing like doomed souls given over to the tender mercies of demonkind, echoed by macabre croaks from the scattered flapping, hopping, leering ravens.

The raven pecked at the eye of the dead man that lay a short distance from the crumbling wall of the tower inside the Temple’s ground. “C-c-a-a-a-A-W, C-c-a-a-a-A-W, C-c-a-a-a-A-W,” it croaked as it peck at the dead man’s face.

The large black raven clawed at the dead druid’s face, its large black orb darted back and forth at the approaching figures. “C-c-a-a-a-A-W” it screeched angrily, as it pecked furiously at its prize of a steely grey eye. The sound of steel been drawn caused the bird to drop the eye as it spread its wings in defiance at the approaching men. The large bird let out an unholy screech! It sounded like metal being twisted. The bird continued to peck at the hollow socket that once held steel grey eye, twitching its head back and forth looking for the tasty morsel that it had dropped. Markus spotted the severed eye laying in the snowy sludge next to the fallen druid’s body. The raven spread and fluttered its wings as it hopped to the ground to snatch its fallen prize. With a final, “C-a-a-a-w-W” the raven took flight with the severed eye hanging from its beak. Markus watched as the large raven flap its large wings, gore dripping from bloodied claws, it made its way back to the safety of the vaulted roof of the tower to perch in the rafters.

The battle had been short lived but had claimed the life of Darius, the old druid. He had fallen victim to the vile, infectious claws of the ravens that had roosted in the broken tower’s rafters. The companions had little time to grieve over there fallen companion, as they could hear muffled footfalls approaching from the west.

Siam stood in the doorway of the tower, allowing her eyes to adjust to the gloom of the inner room. The young rogue stood at the ready focused on the chamber before her, her rapier partially drawn. She sensed the danger before she heard it, the sound of steel been drawn. Her rapier was instantly in her hand as she tumbled to the side of the door using the inner door as partial cover from the danger within.

Markus notched an arrow and pullback hard on his bowstring. The ranger used the weapon as a guide to scan the grounds before him. The compound had left him feeling ill at ease, as did the approaching night. The old dwarven Cuthbertine cleric knelt at the corpse of the fallen druid. Duerin passed his hand over the open eye and empty socket of the dead druid; closing the old man’s eyes as he said a prayer to St. Cuthbert, “Father, show us the immense power of Your goodness and strengthen our belief that you shall guide this soul to his eternal resting place, with Beory the Oerth Mother.”

Erehwon picked up a small rock and threw it at the raven that perched in the rafters of the old tower in disgust. A tirade of orcish words spilled from the half-orc’s mouth as he cursed the bird. The bird fuelled his anger by defiantly cawing back at him as it fluttered back and forth on the beam.
In a rage the half-orc hurled his shield at the obstinate bird and let out a triumphant roar, “VASK …. MURKER”, when his shield splattered the bird against the back wall of the tower.

The young woman twirled her blade over her wrist and caught the blade in her left hand as she buried the blade into the bloated corpse of the creature before her. The dead creature buckled to its knees, before crumpling to a pile on the ground. She extracted the curved blade from the creatures gut; it came out with sickening sound. The sound repulsed her so she gave the thing on the ground before a kick for good measure before wiping the curved blade on its tattered breeches. She wasn’t going to have that smell on her blade for the rest of the day! Her eyes darted back and forth from shrub to tree, “Remember your lessons, take a deep breath and clear your mind!” she said to herself calmly, as she search the body for anything of use. A “C-c-a-a-a-A-W” could be heard off in the distance, as she stood, the leprous grey Temple loomed ominously before her. Seta pulled the hood of her woollen cloak over her head as shivered at the sudden drop in temperature.

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 020

SESSION 020 - Journey to the Runied Temple

Beldrick and his men spurred their horses towards Imeryd’s run, as they were in pursuit of the group that had fled the scene of inn earlier. He could hear the sounds of battle somewhere off in the night ahead.

A moment later a monstrous growl tore through the night sky sending shivers down his spine.

Beldrick pulled back hard on the reins of his horse, bringing his mount to a stop. Grabbing the lantern from his saddle, Beldrick stood in his stirrups, with the lantern held aloft. He quickly surveyed the area before him. Sure enough the tracks continued off into the darkness ahead.
He could hear the sounds of battle but his lantern was no strong enough to illuminate the area ahead.

Beldrick ordered his men to dismount, “Ready your crossbows men,” he said. “Use the bolts with the silver heads,” as he instructed his men to continue ahead towards the river’s edge. He secured the horses to a nearby fence.

Beldrick and his men proceed forward cautiously. Weapons at the ready! They were not ready for the grizzly scene that the lantern illuminated before them as the cleared the brush.

The monstrous creature bit down into the soft flesh of the young woman. Siam let out a blood curdling cry! She could smell the feted breath of the creature on her skin. A cloudy memory stirred in the back of creature’s mind as it recalled the familiar scent of the woman before it. How it had lusted after her.

Siam’s rapier tore into the creature’s side, causing the creature to momentary relax its grip on her. It was enough of an opportunity for her to slip out of its grip and to tumble to the side.

Siam watched as a barrage of bolts slammed into creature. Balabar howled as the silver heads of the bolts burned into his chest. The momentum of the bolts slammed him into the frozen waters of the Imeryd.

“N-N-N-O-O-O!” screamed Siam as creature crashed in the water.

Beldrick stood shocked as he watched the young woman covered in blood run and dive into the frozen waters of the Imeryd. The cold water almost crippled Siam, but her hatred for her father carried her deeper into the depths of the river. Siam could see the Balabar’s body up ahead, but the frigid water of the Imeryd was gaining the upper hand.

She could feel the rivers currents tugging at her limbs, her breath was running low and her lungs burned. She was starting to tire. She could feel her eyes started to close …

Suddenly she felt something grab at her; it was the gloved hand of Balabar.

She grabbed at the gloved hand, but the cold had sapped her strength and then she felt her eyes close, as the last of her air left her lungs.  The glove tore away from Balabar’s hand, as the underwater currents pulled the body deeper into the depths of the Imeryd.

Coughing and sputtering Beldrick pulled the young woman onto the river’s bank. She had tried to fight him off when he had grabbed her, but she was injured and fatigued. The cold had gained the upper hand and she had blacked out. “Quick bring my saddle bag,” he called to one of his men.

Darius watched as Beldrick dragged Siam from the river. He too was injured from the battle, as was Erehwon. The half-orc stirred as the potion started to mend his wounds. Darius put the empty vial back into his pouch, that had been his last and he could do with one himself.

Siam lay on the bank of the Emeryd with the glove of Balabar clasped in her hand ….

Markus and Duerin followed the four men back to Nulb. Markus thought it best to heed the men’s warnings. He would wait to see how things played out or if an opportunity presented itself for him and the dwarf to make it to safety. The men had said that Mother wish to see them.

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 019

SESSION 019 - Trouble a Foot

The fire spread across the bar counter of the Waterside Hostel. The flames seemed to have found a life of their own, as they raced towards the bottles of alcohol stacked on the dusty wooden shelves behind the bar. Markus looked back nervously, keeping a watchful eye on the fire behind him.

Markus found that he had many questions still unanswered from the events earlier. His head still throbbed and the taste of cheap wine still lingered in his mouth from his earlier drinking binge with the half-orc. His head felt thick and the weight of his bow weighed heavily on his arms. He watched the fight in the street before him, bidding his time to get in a well-placed arrow ever so often. Tonight would not be a night that he would find rest; trouble seemed to follow wherever they went.

Siam had shaken him awake earlier, from his drunken slumber. He blinked his eyes open to find Siam and his mother’s standing before him. Holding his head he sat up. Markus shook his head to clear the effects of cheap wine and the Keolandish brandy he had consumed earlier. He could feel the smoke like tendrils slowly releasing its grip on his dulled brain. “M-m-m-other … S-s-s-Siam … How did you escape Mother?” stammered Markus.

The rest of the companions gathered in the room to listen to how Siam had rescued Markus’s mother. Plans were hastily made for their escape, for they knew there would be consequences, but the friends also realised that all would be lost if they retreated back to Hommlet. It was decided that only Anmar and Markus’s mother would be going back to Hommlet for now. Anmar could return later once he had recovered from his injuries.

It was at this point that the barmaid, Pearl was noticed skulking at the slightly open door, confronted a fight ensued which resulted in Wat coming to her aid. Pearl was quickly dispatched in the passage way outside the room where Erehwon slept. The half-orc was soon woken from his drunken slumber by sounds of a fight outside his room. Grabbing his axe Erehwon waded into the fight with the assassin Wat. Wat realising that the odds were not in his favour any longer made for a daring escape through the half-orcs room’s open window, resulting in his own death.

It wasn’t long after the fight that Siam and Darius had spotted torches approaching the inn from the direction of the house Siam had found Markus’s mother. Quickly the companions gathered there belongings and made their way to the inn’s common room.

Darius watched as his trusty companion Alfons stepped through the portal with the injured paladin and Markus’s mother on his back. “That’s one less thing to worry about … for now!” muttered the old druid.

Markus’s cleared his head as he once again focused on the fight before him. Erehwon had just slain Black Wolf with a mighty blow from his great axe. The blow had severed the man’s spine and a second blow for good measure had sent the bastard’s head tumbling down the road.  He was surprised by the earlier events when he spotted the second group approaching from the south towards the inn. The odds were starting not looking good. The two groups clashed just outside the inn and a fight ensued.  The sounds of steel and the flashes of magic soon filled the night air.

The spells cast from Darius and Duerin caused devastating effects on the battle. Soon it was just a handful of men, Balabar and Vex left. With arrows, spells and steel thinning the ranks even more, Vex soon fell to barrage of arrows and spells.

Balabar ripped into the remaining man before him, his tusks dripping blood and gore, but he too soon fell to the prowess of the companions before him. A fatal blow found its mark on the wereboar. The companions cheered as they watched the wereboar fall to the ground.

Balabar felt the blade bite deep into his side; it was at that point that his magical ring flared. He could feel the magic of the ring course through his body as he felt his body been ripped into millions of tiny gas molecules.
He laughed as he rose from the ground in his gaseous form, “Not this night my daughter …” he laughed and floated towards the inn’s second floor.

Siam livid with rage continued her assault on her father, as did the rest of her companions. Sian knew that she would have to get to the second floor of the inn before Balabar escaped into the window.
Siam kept an eye on Balabar as she ran towards the front of the Waterside Hostel bent on the task of killing Balabar once and for all.

A thunderous boom shook the common room of the inn as the large barrels of brandy and other spirits ignited. The ignited barrels arced through the air like molten balls of lava. The sound of the exploding barrels ripped through the night sky, followed by the sound of the windows of the inn exploding.
The shock wave slammed into Siam knocking her and her friends to the ground as bits of glass and wood peppered the ground around them.

Anger flared anew in Siam as she gazed up to where Balabar had been moments ago. He had managed to make it through the open window of one of the second story rooms.
The companions gathered there weapons and picked themselves up off of the ground. Balabar would be there’s this night.
The front of the Waterside Hostle bathed them in light; the companions could see a group of men approaching in the distance.
The gaseous form of Balabar smiled down at Siam, as he licked his blood flecked lips.

“There they are! They are the ones responsible! Look at what they have done to my inn,” screamed Dick pointing at the companions before him. He fell to his knees, as the tears rolled down his cheeks. Dick clutched at the bits of wood and glass in the mushy blood covered snow, letting them fall to the ground through his trembling hands.

“YOU ... “screamed the Hostler, as he pointed to the companions before him, “ALL OF YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS! I WILL MAKE YOU ALL PAY!”

The men were not far off that had been following Dick. Darius knew that they had to act quickly.

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 018

SESSION 018 - The Waterside Hostel

“She is here Vex…. my daughter is here in Nulb,” said Balabar as he ran his hand through his greasy hair. “We must find her before the others do,” said Balabar his voice trailing off into a whisper, “Get the men ready we going to the Waterside Hostel.”

Vex wasn’t pleased with the news! She had hoped that his bitch daughter, Siam had been killed. Now it seemed this was not the case. She had finally gotten Balabar to continue with the work they had started and they had worked their way back into the earth faction of the Temple. The day had started with the news of the escape of the paladin Anmar and now this news of his daughter, this day would still be the death of her thought Vex as she turned to do Balabar’s bidding.

Anmar was week he hadn’t eaten for days, let alone rested properly. He couldn’t even lay hands on himself to cure the infectious wound in his side. He stumbled into the side of a building only to find himself laying face first in the greyish sludge that was left from the afternoon snow. He clambered to his feet and let his momentum carry him forward; he could hear the men following nearby. Again he stumbled crashing through a fence and landing in a small frozen puddle of water. The thin ice shattered as he slammed into the ground, the ice cold water momentarily cleared his dulled vision. He hastily cupped the cold water into his hands and let the cold wet water sooth his dry parched throat. 

The water tasted of dirty, but the liquid quenched the paladin’s thirst and helped him gather up some strength as he picked himself up and continued into the night. He would have felt a lot better if he had at least had his trusted sword with him; all he had was the manacles that hung from his left wrist that could be used as a weapon.

Anmar soon found himself outside the Waterside Hostel; he could hear the patrons inside talking and drinking. Just as he was about to enter a gruff voice called out from behind, “So you thought you could escape us …. Paladin,” laughed the man and a chorus of men with him. Anmar turned to face the man who called out to him and recognised the man as one of his captures.

Anmar tightened his grip on the short chain that ended in an iron manacle. The first of his assailants came in from the right and received a blow to the face that sent the man sprawling to the ground as he tried to stab Anmar with his crude sword.

The sound of the fight carried into the inn, where Markus and Siam sat with their friends. Siam was still outraged by the earlier encounter with her father, “How dare him,” the young woman was outraged, “No one understood.” She fumed. He had let her dwell on the memories of her past and the anger had welled up once again. Before Siam knew it, she was on top of Balabar, and then her rapier was in his stomach. It infuriated her even more when he laughed at her as he pulled the blade from his stomach with his bare hand and laughed, “Daughter is that the best you can do? I give you this though you have spirit.” Balabar leaned in closer and whispered in his daughter’s ear, “Soon I will have you, all of you.” He indicated to the rest of his motley crew and turned to leave the inn.

Siam stepped over to the window to see what the commotion outside was all about. Wiping the dirty window with the cuff of her shirt Siam saw a man been attacked by a couple of thugs. She squinted to get a better look and then man turned towards the window. “A-A-anmar, it’s
Anmar! Quickly we must help him,” shouted Siam as she recognised the paladin.

Moments later Siam and her friends were outside in the street assisting the paladin in his plight with his assailants. It wasn’t long before the fight was over but not without its causalities. Anmar lay propped up against the side of the inn, a gaping hole in his side. The blood squirted between his fingers from where the sword had torn into his stomach exiting his side. He could see he was in trouble as his blood was not a crimson red, but was flecked with black. Anmar last memory was that of Siam approaching before he lost consciousness.

“Quick get him inside, the local guards approach,” urged Siam. The companions turned to see the group of town guards approaching from the south.

“Take the paladin inside Siam, Erehwon and I will deal with this … hurry,” said Markus stepping forward and strapping his axe to his back.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 017

SESSION 017 - The Village of Nulb

The encounter with the hill giant and now with the locals had left Darius with a lot of questions, since their arrival in Nulb. Something just didn’t feel right, there was something sinister a foot here. He was sure about it. He had used a spell of obscuring mist to make their escape from the men and the little girl on the road earlier. This had occurred shortly after they had entered the village. The little girl had been looking for her large friend Crag, which they had later learnt was the hill giant. Markus had pointed out to the little girl that they had slain Crag in a fierce battle. It was at this point that the little girl ran away sobbing and saying that “Mother” would not be pleased. The men with her become hostile at this point, not that they hadn’t been before. He was sure that this wasn’t that last time that they would be seeing them or the little girl.

Darius looked at the group that he travelled with and wondered what they had gotten themselves into this time. They hastily made their way down the road away from the incident with locals and the little girl, seeking refuge. He thought it best that they get to a safe place and think things through before continuing. It may cost one of them there lives if they did anything foolish here.

Markus had taken lead with Siam, as they made their way down the road and was about to ask her something when he noticed that she has suddenly stopped walking. He turned to look at where she was looking. She was looking over at a building off to the side of the road in front of them and it was there that he spotted a woman with red hair in the shadows.

The woman was urging them to follow her, beckoning with her hand, “This way … Come this way …” she called. Taking a few steps closer he suddenly recognised her as the woman that was with Jaroo in Hommlet. She called herself Vex, when they had encountered her in Hommlet. The companions approached closer, not sure of Vex’s intentions. It was at this stage that another figure stepped from the shadows behind her, a large figure and spoke. Markus saw the utter distaste on Siam’s face as the man stepped forward.

The man took a step towards Siam, he was dressed in a lavish Keolandish styled clothes of grey and browns with knee high boots. His cloak whipped back and forth as he approached.

“Siam. How I have missed you … daughter!” said Balabar licking his fleshy lips with a smile. “Come embrace your father,” he said with a chuckle, standing with his arms open before him.

At the mention of her name she felt a flood of anguished memories fill her mind, the memories of the years she spent living with him, after her mother’s sudden death. The stocky man that stood before her was a pig; his jowls drooped on his reddened round-face how she loathed him. She watched as he pulled his meaty hand through his greasy hair as he spoke; but the words did not reach her. She felt herself lost in a pained memory, recalling how the man had stood the very same way in her bedroom doorway years earlier, before stepping in and closing the door.

Siam’s hand dropped to the pommel of her rapier, the blade hung loosely off of her belt. The sudden cold touch of the pommel pushed the memory from her mind and replaced it with another. One where she had her father pinned to the ground and he  pushing her rapier through his bulbous eye. She could feel the last of his death throes, as his life blood flowed into the snow covered ground beneath her… Shaking her head, she heard the last of Balabar’s sentence.
“… not so daughter?” said Balabar, a smile spreading across his fleshy lips.

The man was vile! She knew that his honey forked tongue spread nothing but lies. The mere thought of him made her sick to her stomach. Siam could feel the hatred well up inside of her as she looking at the man before her. Conflicted with the companions that she now travelled with, she knew that she had to be careful. Where was Anmar when she needed him most.

Duerin felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as if someone had ran across his grave. It was at this point that he heard the voice behind him …

“So these are the ones responsible for the death of Crag ….” croaked the feminine voice behind Duerin.

“Yes …, yes Mother. That one over there said he killed Crag,” said another voice pointing at Markus.

“Now, Now Needle didn’t I tell you it was rude to point at people,” said Mother as she stepped forward from the doorway.

The old woman looked at the group before her; shifting her gaze from one person to the next and finally looking at Erewhon she said, “Forgive the little one, she knows not her manners. Let me be the first to Welcome you to Nulb! I am Mother….”

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 016

SESSION 016 - The Ominous Note

Duerin paced back and forth in front of the window of the old druid’s cottage, looking for any sign of the druid’s return. Suddenly Duerin stopped his pacing and muttered to no one in particular, “We need food! That’s it we need food!

“If we are going to wait, we might as well eat something,” muttered the dwarf as he scouted the druid’s kitchen for some cooking ingredients. He smiled broadly when he spotted the large cast iron cooking pot suspended over the hearth. Duerin picked up the large metal cooking pot and put Markus to the task of finding some more wood for the fire and filling the pot with some fresh water.
Soon the dwarf was humming away as he gathered the ingredients he needed from his pack and couple of things he was missing from the druid’s supplies in the kitchen

Markus placed the large pot onto the metal arm and pushed it back over the fire. He watched the dwarf chopping away at some roots as he added some more wood to the fire. Finished he walked over to the window and look outside; the snow had already covered his tracks from when he had gone outside earlier. He was thankful for being inside with the approaching storm he thought. He rubbed his hands together fighting off a sudden chill. The weather had turned bad and by the signs of it they were going to be stuck here for some time, possible a day or two. Markus thoughts strayed to the druid as he poured himself some of the Keolandish brandy from his pack; he was worried about the old man and hoped that he would return soon …

A rich hearty smell soon filled the cottage as the dwarf went about throwing ingredients into the cooking pot. Duerin had even managed to get some corn bread baking on some clay bricks in the hearth.

Erehwon packed his weapons out on the floor before him. Lost in thought he went about cleaning his weapons. After cleaning all his weapons he picked up his large axe and began to hone the curved steel blade of his axe, on the stone he kept in a belt pouch. As he continued to sharpen his axe blade he tried to piece together the images that he had seen earlier that day, gods it made his head hurt.

“Grudash !!!” shouted the half-orc has he angrily he hurled the whetstone across the room! “What did the name mean?” he thought. He ignored the companions and the urgent pleas.

Everyone turned to face the half-orc at the sudden outburst.

“Leave me be!” He muttered as he stood to retrieve his whetstone. Seeing that they weren’t going to get any further explanation his friends decided best to leave things be.

Siam found herself feeling claustrophobic with her new found friends and being stuck in the small cottage. Pulling her cloak tightly around her shoulders she settled down on the bed away from her companions. Feeling the winter chill she pulled the thick woollen blanket over herself that was on the bed. Prodding the pillow with her elbow to get comfortable she heard the crinkle of paper coming from within. Sticking her hand into the pillow case she pulled out a crude piece of paper with some writing on it. By the looks of it the note had been written in haste and was covered with soot. The note read,

"Been captured, Calodan dead. Taken to Nulb Darius get help! - Anmar"

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Character Spotlight - Siam Thanalynn

Campaign: LEGACY the Path of Heroes
Class: Rogue
Level: 3
Race: Human (Suel)
Alignment: Neutral

STR 12  DEX 19  CON 15  INT 15  WIS 15  CHA 13  CMS 17

Siam is a short, petite woman, of Suel extract. Born to the Merchant House of Thanalynn, in Keoland, to Balabar and Rowena Thanalynn, she was the younger child. Her brother, Ferrick, had an army commission purchased for him when Siam was only six and he left home.

Siam’s tale truly begins with the death of her mother the following year, to Wasting Sickness as this was when she attracted the attention of her father. The brutish pig, claimed her as his own, private property and the abuse began. Siam’s horror only ended when, on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, she set fire to the mansion and fled the horrors of Thanalynn House. 

Description: Siam is a young, attractive woman, with straw blonde hair and pale blue eyes, indicating her Suel heritage. She is slight of build, with a lithe, supple body. She favours dark leathers and a red lined, black cloak. At around 5 feet in height she is often mistaken for elven. Siam has a seemingly innocent face, with sultry lips which she uses to devastating effect when trying to get her way. Not prone to wearing make up, she has an ethereal quality which makes her appear younger than she in fact is.

Personality: Somewhat spoilt and immature, Siam often seems as though she views the world as owing her a favour. She can be disdainful and sarcastic even and is often in trouble with associates or “friends” for seeming aloof and cruel even.
Things have changed for Siam, of late. Recently, she escaped from the clutches of evil, below the Moathouse outside of Hommlet. She had been held captive by the evil elf Lareth the Beautiful, devoted servant of Lolth for several weeks. She does not speak of what happened to her while she was held captive but now there is a certain “darkness” about her, an edge that was previously missing. 

Goals: Siam now has a thirst for power. She has made a promise to herself that she will never again be a pawn to someone else or be held against her will. In the short term, Siam plans to make contacts across the seedier parts of the Flanaess and where possible, earn favours from individuals. She plans to create an empire of thieves, spies and assassins and become a controller of information.
Siam realizes that the only way she can become a mover and shaker is to have information. She is in the final stages of planning an Alter Ego that she will create and use in and around Nulb but first she needs a Mage …

Height: 5'1", Weight: 110 lbs, Handed: Right
Age: 22 years (born 554 CY, 9th day of Readying)
Physique: Slender, Lithe, Athletic
Comeliness: (17) Attractive, ethereal, innocent looking; Features: Long hair, slight build with straw blonde hair and pale blue eyes.
Patron Deity: Norebo
Family: Mother (Deceased), Father (Balabar), Older brother (Ferrick)

  ... R.I.P - Siam Thanalynn ...

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 015

SESSION 015 - A Storm Approaches


Siam jumped down from the tree branch with a graceful backward flip, landing in the soft snow beneath the tree that she has taken refuge in during the fight. She brushed her hands off of the cold snow, as she walked past the wolf she had doused with the alchemist fire earlier. The wolf’s body writhed in pain as the fire expunge the last moments of life from its body. The acrid smell made the young rogue’s nose twitch as she walked past the burning body to join her friends.

Siam watched as Marcus rolled over one of the dead orcs nearby. “The creature was a foul looking beast, then again they all,” she thought as she continued to watch the ranger. The ranger first searched the creature for any signs of life, before he searched the body.  Sure that the creature was indeed dead he patted the orc down for any trinkets or clues to why they creatures were after them.

 “Marcus …” said Siam, as she spotting something. “Turn its head this way.” This hadn’t been the first time that she had encountered these foul creatures.  She had first fought them when she had been sent to retrieve the package from them in the hills outside the Mistmarsh for the Merchant Vanaur. “Thinking about Vanaur … she still had a score to settle with weasel,” Siam muttered to herself. Anmar had fought against orcs with the same markings with Ash outside the Gnarley, she and Sven had fought them off before the bastard had knocked her out and tied her to a horse she thought. Now these orcs carried the same markings ….

Erehwon searched the body of the orc that he had slain a few feet away from the group. Turning the dead orc over so that he could get to its belt, he too noticed the markings on the side of the orc’s face.

Darius staggered back from loss of blood and the pain in his stomach. Looking down he could see that the front of his robes were drenched in blood. He watched as his warm blood dripped between his fingers onto the snow leaving crimson stains, as he stumbled back against the tree. The old druid slumped against the tree and let his momentum carry his body to the snow covered forest floor. He watched his friends approached.

Duerin hurried over to tend to the old druid’s wounds. He had seen how the orc had shoved its blade deep into the old man’s gut. The Cuthbertine priest knelt down at the druid’s side and tore away the bloodied robes to tend to the wound.

The wound was grave, but not as fatal as he had first feared. The blade had passed straight through and had luckily not hit anything vital that he could see, but the old man had lost a lot of blood. Duerin set to work at cleaning and treating the wound for infections. Once satisfied, Duerin bandaged the wound with a roll of cloth from his healer’s bag. It was at this point that the dwarf noticed that the others had gathered around him and the wounded druid.

“He has lost a lot of blood! We need to get him to shelter,” instructed Duerin as he stood to talk to his friends. “I fear we have a storm approaching,” said the dwarf as he pointed behind his friends.

Duerin returned to the druid’s side, drawing an ebony wand from his thick leather belt. He gently placed the tip of the wand against the druid’s wound. He uttered the command word to activate the wand and watched as the tip of the wand began to glow with a brilliant light. Darius’s laboured breath soon return to normal as the curative magic flowed through his body.

Marcus and Erehwon quickly gathered the horses and headed back to the group. The ranger was getting more and more concerned as the wind got stronger, he could feel the temperature dropping fast as the storm approached.

It wouldn’t be long before they were caught up in the middle of storm in the dead of the night. They needed to find shelter fast, as they were still a few hours out from the druid’s home realised the ranger.

Siam laughed as she recalled that tonight they would be celebrating the Feast of Fools in the Free City. “Foolish girl, should have stayed at home, ” she mocked, “What have you gotten yourself into this time.”

Minge pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders as curled up in the shallow hole that he found. He watched and shivered as the snow covered his make shift cover of thick branches and an old winter blanket suspend over the shallow hole. It wasn’t long until he was fully snowed in. The little Halfling could hear the baying of wolves close by  and the wind ripping through the trees nearby. “Minge going die! SHUT UP fool! Minge not going die … Master will protect Minge,” mumbled Minge from the darkness of his hidey hole.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 014

SESSION 014 - The Road to Nulb


The small group of friends made their way through the brush that surrounded the old moathouse. They had escaped moments earlier from the tunnel that had led to the forest. Duerin had discovered a cache of oil barrels not far off the trail that they had been following. He urged his friends ahead as he set to work on buying them some sorely needed time in order to make their escape back to Hommlet.

Urging his companions ahead, he pulled out his tinderbox and set to wetting the trail with the oil from the barrels. He watched as the oil flowed down trail towards the opening of the tunnel that they just fled from, watching for any sign of Black Wolf’s men.

Crouching, Duerin struck his steel bar against the hardened flint.  A cascade of sparks flew into the night, crackling in the cold wintery air. He watched as the sparks fell to the wet ground covered in snow and oil. “Nothing!” he cursed. Scratching through his backpack the dwarf found some dry kindling that he placed on the ground between his boots. He then pulled his winter cloak over his broad shoulders for shelter, so he could light the oil. His think winter cloak sheltered him from the wind and falling snow. “Tap ... Tap … Tap,” as he struck his steel bar against the flint once, twice and third time before the sparks fell to the dry kindling at his boots.

It was at this point that he noticed the first signs of the men leaving the tunnel that they had just fled from. A sudden gust of wind ripped his cloak open, causing his kindling to burst into flame. He quickly shoved the burning kindling into the oil and watched as the oil ignited. The oil burnt towards the entrance of the tunnel. Shouts of alarm came from the men at that had appeared at the tunnel entrance. Moments later the tunnel erupted in flame, igniting a large barrel of oil that was being carted away from the entrance by one of the men. The man screamed as the flame ran up his leg and engulf him, but his screams were soon silence as the barrel of oil exploded.

The sound of the explosion ripped through the immediate area, sending some forest creatures scuttling for safety of the deeper woods. Duerin smiled as he turned to leave, running to catch up with his friends.

Darius was pleased to find his mule Alfonso grazing in a clearing as they broke through the brush of the forest. The mule recognising his old master and trotted over to gently nudged him with his nose. Marcus was most pleased to see the mule too as he had been carrying the unconscious half-orc through the forest and this meant that he no longer needed to. Alfons was not so keen on the idea of having the half-orc on him and let the old Druid know in no uncertain terms.

It wasn’t long before the companions found themselves on the outskirts of Hommlet. They watched the smoke drift from the chimney’s from the large establishment of the Welcome Wench. The inns many windows glowed with flickering torch light, merriment and laugher could be heard coming from the large establishment. The five friends and Alfons urged on, eager to get out of the cold night air.

Sometime later the companions joined each other in one of the backrooms of the inn. That is all except Erehwon, who still remained unconscious?  After a quick meal they decided it would be best if each got some rest. They would meet for breakfast in the morning and see what the day brought them.

Duerin watched the half-orc from the shadows of the room that they shared. St. Cuthbert would guide them he thought as he pulled his smoking pipe from his belt.

The half-orc’s fevered dreams were plagued with visions of battle. Looking down he saw that he was clad in armor, axe and sword in hand.

He was covered in blood and gore. He could feel the blood flowing from his mouth. The metallic taste of the blood filled his mouth. A savage cry from behind caused him to turn. His reactions weren’t quick enough to stop the blow that slammed into his head and that of the second blade that slammed into his groin ….

“AAAAAARGH!” screamed the half-orc as he awoke.

“Where was he? Where did these bed sheets come from? Though the half-orc as he got off the cot and dressed himself in his clothes that lay in a heap on the floor. The room peered ominously silent and dark.

“Aaah, you up!” proclaimed the dwarf as he lit his pipe in the shadows near the window. “Wondered how long it would be before I had to wake you up myself,” jested the dwarf, showing the half-orc how he would have prodded him with his smoking pipe.

“Come, the others are waiting for us downstairs. We have many things to discuss and I could do with a warm meal this morning,” said Duerin as he made his way to the door.

Siam found the comforts of the Welcome Wench sorely needed after her prolonged visit at the moathouse. She used her time to soak and bathe herself, while she sipped her goblet of fine Celene Red. She soon found herself drifting off to sleep …

Markus sat on the bed in his room too tired to do anything. He was still no further in rescuing his mother he thought. He lay back on the bed and thought about the last time he had seen her. He remembered that she had worn the white dress, but soon felt his eyes closing. He tried to fight off the effect of his tired limbs, but eventually sleep won. Thoughts of his mother and his uncle filled his dreams. He would find her and he would have his revenge, his uncle would pay, was his last thought before sleep over took him.

Darius spent better part of the evening tending to his trusted friend and companion Alfons, but he too soon turned in as he too needed his rest.

Minge shivered, huddled in the corner of the barn. His thoughts turned to the one called Siam as he tore a bit of meat off the rat carcass over the small cooking fire. The dirty Halfling chewed on the piece of half cooked meat and let out a loud cackle, “Yes Mistress …..” and he cackled again.

The door of the barn burst open, as a large figured stepped forth into the barn.

“Sorry master, Minge sorry master,” squealed the Halfling as he heard steel being drawn.

Siam was the last to join her friends in the common room for breakfast the following morning. She sat down just as Ostler arrived with a tray of bowls of hot oats, butter and honey. Each of the companions settled down and tucked into their morning meal.

It was Darius that was the first to break the silence ….

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 013

SESSION 013 - Escape from the Moathouse


The last of Lareth’s personal guard crumpled to his knees death mere moments away. The man looked up at the half-orc that stood before him, his face contorted in pain. “YOU w-h-y ….l” he coughed, his lips flecked with frothy blood, as he fell forward into a pool of his own freshly spilled blood.

The heavy blade of the half-orc’s axe had moments earlier cleaved through the guard’s midriff, shattering his ribs and piercing his heart.

Looking down and the lifeless corpse brought a smile to Erehwon’s lips, his orcish features exposed in the moment. Overcome with a momentary sense of deja vu, the half-orc shook his head to clear his thoughts. The sense of deja vu soon past as the memory faded into his subconscious.

Siam stepped into the chamber looking at her estranged rescuers and caught side of the body of Lareth lying at the feet of the ranger, Marcus. She had witness the ranger; first hand strike the priest down with a mighty blow of his great axe. The single blow had felled the priest by severing his head from his shoulders. The young rogue peered over at the severed head that had fallen to the ground; lifeless eyes stared back at her.  Something did not feel right! Her investigated nature raised questions about the scene before her and what had transpired moments before.

“Something was wrong, this had been too easy,” thought Siam. She had witness the priest’s prowess in combat and that of his priestly powers.

“He was Lolth’s favoured, Lolth’s chosen, yet he now lay dead, why?” she thought.

Marcus stood, bloodied axe in hand. His armour covered in sticky warm blood and gore. The body of the priest lay on the floor before him.

He was stunned at what had taken place as he thought back to what had taken place. The unholy energy cast by the priest, Lareth had ripped through his body, causing him immense pain. The thought of it caused his stomach to cramp and his muscles to tense; he could still taste the acidic-sour taste of bile in his mouth.

He recalled how the druid had been the first to fall in the battle. Marcus knew instinctively that he had to kill the priest, or they would all die or worse would come to them at the hand of the priest.

Before the ranger knew what he was doing he was charging in the room, then the Lareth was in front of him. Without thinking his axe rained down in arc fuelled by pure rage and pain. He felt his axe sever the priest’s head from his shoulders in a single clean blow. A crimson fountain of blood exploded from the priest severed neck, as the head toppled to the ground a short distance away.

Kneeling Siam examined the fallen body of the priest, intrigued on how the man had died by the hand of the ranger. It was only after she managed to move the priest body did she notice the small dart caught in one of the many folds of his cloak. Lifting the dead man’s shoulder the young rogue spotted a puncture wound in the base of what was left of the priest’s neck.

Black Wolf gathered what he needed. The alarm had been triggered, which meant he had little time left.

“Minge … fetch the woman” ordered Black Wolf as he adjusted his armour and holstered his mace in his belt, “Bring her to the caverns.”

“As you bid Master Wolf,” said Minge the Halfling. “… and Master your guests have arrived. Should I bring them to the caverns too?” asked the Halfling.

“Yes and make it with haste,” replied Black Wolf, “Oh and Minge when I am done, burn this place to the ground. My work here is done.” said Black Wolf as an afterthought as he strode from the room.

The half-orc felt a sting on the back of his neck, as he turned to follow the young woman into the room. With each step his legs felt heavier. He tried to call out for help but found that he couldn’t. Taking another laboured step forward the half orc felt his joints stiffen as fell forward to crash into the floor.

“OH crap!” was the last thought he had before everything went black.