Character Spotlight - Jurgen Frangst

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

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




BACKGROUND
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

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




BACKGROUND
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

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




BACKGROUND
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

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




BACKGROUND
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?”
“And?”
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.”

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 023

TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL
SESSION 023 - The Cabin in the Woods

FREEDAY, 07 FIRESEEK (MID WINTER) 579CY
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.

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 022

TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL
SESSION 022 - The Betrayal

 

WATERDAY, 05 FIRESEEK (MID WINTER) 579CY
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.