tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1154719472507654142024-03-13T21:34:31.597+02:00Greyhawk Adventures 576CYGreyhawk Adventures 576CY is a blog dedicated to the World of Greyhawk, my campaigns and other related roleplaying topics of discussion.Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-30935447772424589132012-09-30T20:09:00.000+02:002012-09-30T20:09:02.170+02:00Character Spotlight - Jurgen Frangst<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bu335Rd9UjY/UCwVHfoBypI/AAAAAAAABOY/7QYXMI7hVzE/s1600/Jurgen+Frangst.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bu335Rd9UjY/UCwVHfoBypI/AAAAAAAABOY/7QYXMI7hVzE/s200/Jurgen+Frangst.png" width="130" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>Campaign</b>: LEGACY the Path of Heroes<br />
<b>Class</b>: Barbarian<br />
<b>Level</b>: 5<br />
<b>Race</b>: Human (Suel)<br />
<b>Alignment</b>: Neutral<br />
<br />
<b>ABILITY SCORES</b>
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">STR</span> 19 <span style="color: #b45f06;">DEX</span> 16 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CON</span> 18 <span style="color: #b45f06;">INT </span>10 <span style="color: #b45f06;">WIS </span>10 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CHA </span>15 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CMS </span>??<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">BACKGROUND</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-63997854498046511172012-09-30T19:55:00.005+02:002012-09-30T19:55:59.437+02:00Character Spotlight - Anmaren Highcrown<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BEUHfLtyj34/UCwVCbFfdRI/AAAAAAAABNs/t5vZa7XiNiI/s1600/Anmaren+Highcrown.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BEUHfLtyj34/UCwVCbFfdRI/AAAAAAAABNs/t5vZa7XiNiI/s200/Anmaren+Highcrown.png" width="130" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>Campaign</b>: LEGACY the Path of Heroes<br />
<b>Class</b>: Paladin<br />
<b>Level</b>: 5<br />
<b>Race</b>: Human (Suel)<br />
<b>Alignment</b>: Neutral<br />
<br />
<b>ABILITY SCORES</b>
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">STR</span> 17 <span style="color: #b45f06;">DEX</span> 17 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CON</span> 15 <span style="color: #b45f06;">INT </span>14 <span style="color: #b45f06;">WIS </span>15 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CHA </span>17 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CMS </span>??<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">BACKGROUND</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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….Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-16055949943250205222012-09-30T19:41:00.001+02:002012-09-30T19:44:00.746+02:00Character Spotlight - Darius Monn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F2SECVx6NsE/UCwVDgf_IsI/AAAAAAAABN0/k-rZerVB4uY/s1600/Darius+Monn.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F2SECVx6NsE/UCwVDgf_IsI/AAAAAAAABN0/k-rZerVB4uY/s200/Darius+Monn.png" width="130" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>Campaign</b>: LEGACY the Path of Heroes<br />
<b>Class</b>: Druid 3 / Wizard 1<br />
<b>Level</b>: 4<br />
<b>Race</b>: Human (Suel)<br />
<b>Alignment</b>: Neutral<br />
<br />
<b>ABILITY SCORES</b>
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">STR</span> 08 <span style="color: #b45f06;">DEX</span> 10 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CON</span> 12 <span style="color: #b45f06;">INT </span>17 <span style="color: #b45f06;">WIS </span>21 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CHA </span>12 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CMS </span>08<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">BACKGROUND</span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oyZTurSAdD4/UGiBswDeRsI/AAAAAAAABSs/TE-BWpLQF-8/s1600/death.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oyZTurSAdD4/UGiBswDeRsI/AAAAAAAABSs/TE-BWpLQF-8/s200/death.png" width="121" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #b45f06;"> ... R.I.P - Darius Monn ...</span></b></div>
Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-13122850519747928222012-09-30T18:19:00.001+02:002012-09-30T18:22:52.874+02:00Character Spotlight - Seta Aidala<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ksBBHWA5-RA/UCwVJE84JaI/AAAAAAAABOk/2c-Ioz8JA30/s1600/Seta+Aidala.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ksBBHWA5-RA/UCwVJE84JaI/AAAAAAAABOk/2c-Ioz8JA30/s200/Seta+Aidala.png" width="130" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>Campaign</b>: LEGACY the Path of Heroes<br />
<b>Class</b>: Magus<br />
<b>Level</b>: 5<br />
<b>Race</b>: Human (Suel)<br />
<b>Alignment</b>: Neutral<br />
<br />
<b>ABILITY SCORES</b>
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">STR</span> ?? <span style="color: #b45f06;">DEX</span> ?? <span style="color: #b45f06;">CON</span> ?? <span style="color: #b45f06;">INT </span>?? <span style="color: #b45f06;">WIS </span>?? <span style="color: #b45f06;">CHA </span>?? <span style="color: #b45f06;">CMS </span>??<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">BACKGROUND</span><br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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?”<br />
<br />
“One should always be properly dressed for company, you taught me that.”<br />
“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!<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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?”<br />
“It serves me well enough. Any particular reason for your visit, or just feeling chatty?”<br />
<br />
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!”<br />
<br />
“I have a task for you. You must have heard of the group of so called adventurers making trouble in town?” <br />
Seta’s only answer is a noncommittal grunt.<br />
“Last night they fought a battle outside the tavern. During the brawl Blackwolf, Balabar and Vex got killed”<br />
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?” <br />
“And?”<br />
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?”<br />
“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.”<br />
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.<br />
“Fine, Fine, I hear you! What do you want me to do once I join them?”<br />
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.”<br />
“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…”<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
Having finished cleaning the blade she picks it up and take the first stance of her morning exercise routine.<br />
“I do believe she intends to get you killed”, a voice murmurs in her mind.<br />
“Any other words of belated wisdom Father? Maybe about how blue the sky is or how wet water is?”<br />
“No need for sarcasm. Pull in your left foot, you are leaving your right flank exposed.”<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
“I’m sorry, but it is very important that we go to the temple.”<br />
<br />
“Why? What is there you so desperately seek?”<br />
<br />
“Your left foot is still too far out. Correct and start again”<br />
<br />
“Your avoiding the question.”<br />
<br />
“Correct and start again.”<br />
<br />
With a sigh, Seta corrects her stance and once again starts the exercise.<br />
<br />
“When we are done you need to clean my pommel again. You missed a spot.”<br />
<br />
“Yes, Father.”Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-79082531414160534532012-08-23T17:42:00.001+02:002012-08-23T18:48:55.396+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 023<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 023 - The Cabin in the Woods</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-txW8uik8aeE/T38R77SjtuI/AAAAAAAAA2E/qIpSwRkX-o8/s1600/welcomewench.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-txW8uik8aeE/T38R77SjtuI/AAAAAAAAA2E/qIpSwRkX-o8/s400/welcomewench.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">FREEDAY, 07 FIRESEEK (MID WINTER) 579CY</span><br />
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.<br /><br />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. <br /><span id="goog_468928534"></span><span id="goog_468928535"></span> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">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.<br /><br />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.<br /><span id="goog_468928534"></span><span id="goog_468928535"></span> </span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">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<br /><br />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.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />As luck would have it the companions evening past uneventfully.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
So the friends spent the rest of the afternoon searching through the items for information or anything of use or value.<br /><br />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….<br /><br />“SETA! SETA!” called the sword. The young woman jumped from her chair as the words tore her from her slumber.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />The tall figure stepped forward, its thick cloak obscuring its features as it seemed to be focused on the cabin before it.</span>Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-44639652267984252542012-08-16T11:46:00.001+02:002012-08-17T08:21:46.991+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 022<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 022 - The Betrayal</span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;"> </span><br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bu335Rd9UjY/UCwVHfoBypI/AAAAAAAABOY/7QYXMI7hVzE/s1600/Jurgen+Frangst.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bu335Rd9UjY/UCwVHfoBypI/AAAAAAAABOY/7QYXMI7hVzE/s320/Jurgen+Frangst.png" width="208" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">WATERDAY, 05 FIRESEEK (MID WINTER) 579CY</span><br />
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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />“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.<br /><br />“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.<br /><br />“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.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />Duerin tried his best to change the sober mood by of the group, but not even his cheery disposition or his warm meal helped. <br /><br />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.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />“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.<br /><br />“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. <br /><br />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.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />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. <br /><br />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. </span>Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-42433454558468333552012-07-31T09:03:00.001+02:002012-08-16T12:13:36.675+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 021<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 021 - The Broken Tower</span><br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QTtB71NTbK8/UBeCuxMa3jI/AAAAAAAABKE/Y1it1lyAAsc/s1600/templegrounds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QTtB71NTbK8/UBeCuxMa3jI/AAAAAAAABKE/Y1it1lyAAsc/s400/templegrounds.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">GODSDAY, 04 FIRESEEK (MID WINTER) 579CY</span><br />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. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">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. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">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. </span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><span id="goog_1868194754"></span><span id="goog_1868194755"></span></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />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.<br /><br />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.”<br /><br />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.<br />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.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">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.</span></span></span>Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-47650173434952178792012-07-31T09:03:00.000+02:002012-08-16T12:19:39.101+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 020<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 020 - Journey to the Runied Temple</span><br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oGXX98LWJ-A/UBeB8u06EAI/AAAAAAAABJ8/ugEFe4zNutw/s1600/Journey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oGXX98LWJ-A/UBeB8u06EAI/AAAAAAAABJ8/ugEFe4zNutw/s400/Journey.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">GODSDAY, 04 FIRESEEK (MID WINTER) 579CY</span><br />
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. <br /><br />A moment later a monstrous growl tore through the night sky sending shivers down his spine. <br /><br />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. <br />He could hear the sounds of battle but his lantern was no strong enough to illuminate the area ahead.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />“N-N-N-O-O-O!” screamed Siam as creature crashed in the water. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 … <br /><br />Suddenly she felt something grab at her; it was the gloved hand of Balabar.<br /><br />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.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />Siam lay on the bank of the Emeryd with the glove of Balabar clasped in her hand ….</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span>Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-71619397652823750622012-07-31T09:02:00.003+02:002012-07-31T09:09:51.631+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 019<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 019 - Trouble a Foot</span><br />
<br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cpETukoSMC4/UBeA9WC9fbI/AAAAAAAABJ0/h5PgFJ3Yhfw/s1600/dickwrench.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cpETukoSMC4/UBeA9WC9fbI/AAAAAAAABJ0/h5PgFJ3Yhfw/s320/dickwrench.jpg" width="204" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">MOONDAY, 03 FIRESEEK (MID WINTER) 579CY</span><br />
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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br />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.<br /><br />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.<br />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.<br /><br />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.<br />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.<br /><br />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.<br />The companions gathered there weapons and picked themselves up off of the ground. Balabar would be there’s this night. <br /> </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
The front of the Waterside Hostle bathed them in light; the companions could see a group of men approaching in the distance. <br />
The gaseous form of Balabar smiled down at Siam, as he licked his blood flecked lips.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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!” <br />
<br />
The men were not far off that had been following Dick. Darius knew that they had to act quickly.<br />
<br />Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-79873712714540109282012-07-31T09:02:00.002+02:002012-08-16T00:09:58.118+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 018<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 018 - The Waterside Hostel</span><br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BEUHfLtyj34/UCwVCbFfdRI/AAAAAAAABNs/t5vZa7XiNiI/s1600/Anmaren+Highcrown.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BEUHfLtyj34/UCwVCbFfdRI/AAAAAAAABNs/t5vZa7XiNiI/s320/Anmaren+Highcrown.png" width="208" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SUNDAY, 02 FIRESEEK (MID WINTER) 579CY</span><br />
“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.”<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <br />Anmar! Quickly we must help him,” shouted Siam as she recognised the paladin.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />“Quick get him inside, the local guards approach,” urged Siam. The companions turned to see the group of town guards approaching from the south.<br /><br />“Take the paladin inside Siam, Erehwon and I will deal with this … hurry,” said Markus stepping forward and strapping his axe to his back.</span></span></span></div>
Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-39350913781091342472012-06-26T14:16:00.000+02:002012-07-10T13:49:19.054+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 017 - The Village of Nulb</span><br />
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pgM12JbN3gE/T-mnq0dXqLI/AAAAAAAABGs/EL6x1rj9gW8/s1600/mother.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pgM12JbN3gE/T-mnq0dXqLI/AAAAAAAABGs/EL6x1rj9gW8/s1600/mother.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SUNDAY, 02 FIRESEEK (MID WINTER) 579CY</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
“… not so daughter?” said Balabar, a smile spreading across his fleshy lips. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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 …<br />
<br />
“So these are the ones responsible for the death of Crag ….” croaked the feminine voice behind Duerin. <br />
<br />
“Yes …, yes Mother. That one over there said he killed Crag,” said another voice pointing at Markus.<br />
<br />
“Now, Now Needle didn’t I tell you it was rude to point at people,” said Mother as she stepped forward from the doorway.<br />
<br />
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….”Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-72623516947351215252012-06-20T08:20:00.000+02:002012-08-06T12:56:53.109+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 016 - The Ominous Note</span><br />
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rc4hyHxlSnE/T-Fq4mp6QII/AAAAAAAABGU/8r4bnBpMw3Y/s1600/Hidden-Road-landsacape-winter-1920x1200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rc4hyHxlSnE/T-Fq4mp6QII/AAAAAAAABGU/8r4bnBpMw3Y/s320/Hidden-Road-landsacape-winter-1920x1200.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">STARDAY, 01 FIRESEEK (MID WINTER) 579CY</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
“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.<br />
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<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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 …<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
Everyone turned to face the half-orc at the sudden outburst. <br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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,<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"Been captured, Calodan dead. Taken to Nulb Darius get help! - Anmar"</i></div>Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-78848842858807351552012-05-31T08:36:00.001+02:002012-09-30T19:45:07.930+02:00Character Spotlight - Siam Thanalynn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gQ_5pXYlKNU/UCwVKFqrPuI/AAAAAAAABOw/cXI5_ePhOYk/s1600/Siam+Thanalynn.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gQ_5pXYlKNU/UCwVKFqrPuI/AAAAAAAABOw/cXI5_ePhOYk/s200/Siam+Thanalynn.png" width="130" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>Campaign</b>: LEGACY the Path of Heroes<br />
<b>Class</b>: Rogue<br />
<b>Level</b>: 3<br />
<b>Race</b>: Human (Suel)<br />
<b>Alignment</b>: Neutral<br />
<br />
<b>ABILITY SCORES</b>
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">STR</span> 12 <span style="color: #b45f06;">DEX</span> 19 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CON</span> 15 <span style="color: #b45f06;">INT </span>15 <span style="color: #b45f06;">WIS </span>15 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CHA </span>13 <span style="color: #b45f06;">CMS </span>17<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">BACKGROUND</span><br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">Description:</span> 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.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">Personality:</span> 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.<br />
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. <br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">Goals:</span> 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. <br />
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 … <br />
<br />
Height: 5'1", Weight: 110 lbs, Handed: Right <br />
Age: 22 years (born 554 CY, 9th day of Readying)<br />
Physique: Slender, Lithe, Athletic<br />
Comeliness: (17) Attractive, ethereal, innocent looking; Features: Long hair, slight build with straw blonde hair and pale blue eyes. <br />
Patron Deity: Norebo<br />
Family: Mother (Deceased), Father (Balabar), Older brother (Ferrick)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oyZTurSAdD4/UGiBswDeRsI/AAAAAAAABSs/TE-BWpLQF-8/s1600/death.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oyZTurSAdD4/UGiBswDeRsI/AAAAAAAABSs/TE-BWpLQF-8/s200/death.png" width="121" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #b45f06;"> ... R.I.P - Siam Thanalynn ...</span></b></div>
Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-76368909387350118382012-05-29T10:39:00.001+02:002022-04-17T10:04:42.953+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 015<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 015 - A Storm Approaches</span><br />
<span id="goog_1166677917"></span><span id="goog_1166677918"></span>
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">FREEDAY, 07 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY</span></span></span></span><br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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 ….<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.”<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-73483450232547704912012-05-23T18:12:00.002+02:002012-08-06T12:52:05.612+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 014 - The Road to Nulb</span><br />
<br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Vic7qZfQ2ZU/T0NduesPK8I/AAAAAAAAAro/91n6HApjsr4/s1600/winter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Vic7qZfQ2ZU/T0NduesPK8I/AAAAAAAAAro/91n6HApjsr4/s320/winter.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">EARTHDAY, 06 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY</span></span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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 ….<br />
<br />
“AAAAAARGH!” screamed the half-orc as he awoke. <br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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 …<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
The door of the barn burst open, as a large figured stepped forth into the barn.<br />
<br />
“Sorry master, Minge sorry master,” squealed the Halfling as he heard steel being drawn.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
It was Darius that was the first to break the silence ….Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-6570205159784034452012-05-15T14:52:00.001+02:002012-05-23T08:24:35.685+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 013 - Escape from the Moathouse</span><br />
<br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0Xuqv9Cm95A/T7JRVDVw6xI/AAAAAAAABAw/7PuLBq7il24/s1600/Minge+Kalden,+Rogue+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0Xuqv9Cm95A/T7JRVDVw6xI/AAAAAAAABAw/7PuLBq7il24/s200/Minge+Kalden,+Rogue+1.png" width="130" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">WATERDAY, 05 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY</span></span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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. </div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
“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. <br />
<br />
“He was Lolth’s favoured, Lolth’s chosen, yet he now lay dead, why?” she thought.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Black Wolf gathered what he needed. The alarm had been triggered, which meant he had little time left.<br />
<br />
“Minge … fetch the woman” ordered Black Wolf as he adjusted his armour and holstered his mace in his belt, “Bring her to the caverns.”<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
“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.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
“OH crap!” was the last thought he had before everything went black.Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-67668554651986140952012-05-08T16:31:00.001+02:002012-08-15T23:58:19.687+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 012 - The Fall of the Moathouse</span><br />
<br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gQ_5pXYlKNU/UCwVKFqrPuI/AAAAAAAABOw/cXI5_ePhOYk/s1600/Siam+Thanalynn.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gQ_5pXYlKNU/UCwVKFqrPuI/AAAAAAAABOw/cXI5_ePhOYk/s200/Siam+Thanalynn.png" width="130" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">WATERDAY, 05 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY</span><br />
Darius listened to the Cuthbertine priest as he recalled how he had been captured and thrown into the small store room. Shepherd realised he had been fool to have tried to infiltrate the moathouse on his own as he explained how he was captured. It had almost cost him his life, if it hadn’t been for his rescuers, he was sure to have been Lubash’s next meal.
<br /> </span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">The battle with the undead ogre had been grim and everyone was on edge. Duerin stood with his back to the dead ogre’s body, in silent prayer to St. Cuthbert.They had learned from Shepherd that the undead ogre that they had slain was called Lubash. Shepherd told of how they had defeated the ogre; when he, Anmar, Calodan and Siam had entered the moathouse months earlier. The undead ogre had to have been of Lareths creation. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
The Cuthbertine priest stressed that he needed to return to Hommlet to speak to Canon Terjon as the situation was dire. Shepherd told his rescuers what he knew of the moathouse before returning to Hommlet. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Markus and his companions found little of use in the slayed dead ogre’s chamber. It took some time, but after a thorough search they discovered a secret door. Erehwon stepped forward speaking a cautionary warning to his companions, saying that it would be best if he checked the secret door first before anyone step through.<br /> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Erehwon examined the secret door; his trained eye looking for any sort of mechanism that his hands might have missed that would activate the trap. Nothing! He was satisfied that the door was safe to open. The half-orc gently pressed the small latch that would release the secret door, with an audible click the door sprang open flooding the room with an oppressive smell that took the companions breathe away. Erehwon stepped back overcome by nausea from the overbearing smell.
<br /> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lady Madeline stood up from her prison floor. Her once fine dress now layered in dirt and grime. Her face still hurt from the beating she had received from Roderic. She looked at the door as she heard the key turn in the lock of her cell door. Light flooded into the small chamber as the door swung open, silhouetting the two figures that stood before her.<br /> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Bring her to my chambers … Minge,” said a strong feminine voice, using the Halfling’s name as an afterthought; before taking her leave.<br /> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">The smaller one of the two stepped forward, “As you wish,” replied the halfling. Madeline grimaced as the halfling grabbed her; the smell from the halfling stifled her breath as he dragged her from her cell. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Footfalls could be heard approaching the passage that the companions had opened the door to. A strong scent of sweet and dog evident in the air … </span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Siam’s eyes opened. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
She could feel cold stone beneath her scantily clad body, her hands manacled to chains fastened to the wall behind her. The chamber was bathed in darkness. Siam could hear nothing else over her heartbeat. Overcoming her fear the young rogue calmed herself and within a few minutes she could her the gentle sound of water lapping up against stone nearby. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-45565475068819182952012-04-24T17:16:00.001+02:002012-05-13T18:01:17.320+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 011<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 011 - Into the Depths of the Moathouse</span><br />
<br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bnQ7YD5ny5U/T5bDl8rF2QI/AAAAAAAAA-c/darMUzejavU/s1600/crypt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bnQ7YD5ny5U/T5bDl8rF2QI/AAAAAAAAA-c/darMUzejavU/s320/crypt.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">WATERDAY, 05 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY</span><br />
Overcome with fear Aaron stumbled through the brush towards the secret entrance to the dungeons below the moathouse. He had left his men to their own demise, but that was not his concern now. The sudden flight of a nearby bird caused him to lose his footing and crash into the brush ahead. Scrambling to his feet Aaron, brushed the sweat from his brow, his eyes darted back and forth as he fearfully probed the forest around him.<br /><br />“Don’t be a fool. They didn’t follow you,” he repeated to himself as he peered back over his shoulder. The darkening shadows of evening were approaching, as Liga began to set. The feel of the cold steel of his dagger brought some comfort to Aaron as he unsheathed the broad bladed dagger from his belt. The bite of the late wintery afternoon was felt upon the nape of his neck and he knew he needed to make haste.<br />
<br />
</span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">The large boa constrictor coiled itself into a nearby corner, evidence of its latest victim present, as it passed long being digested inside it abdomen. The large snake’s forked tongue darted back and forth; ever vigilant as it settled down to digest its latest meal.<br />Darius watched as the large boa constrictor, watched as the snake digested its latest meal. A meal he had been partially responsible for. Darius turned and made his way back to his friends, unlike the rest of his companions the druid and the large reptile showed empathy for one another, a mutual respect if you will.</span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Markus and Erehwon were eager to proceed down the stairs and to be away from the large reptile. They wanted to explore the floor below, which the paladin Anmar referred to as the dungeons of the moathouse. Both had different reasons for wanting to put this place behind them, Markus sought the return of his mother as a priority, whilst the half-orc clearly wanted to tear Black Wolf apart and return home. Duerin found all of this a bit tiresome. There were more pressing matters of the church that needed attending too. Darius understood the situation better than his companions did and he suspected that this was just the beginning of their plight. <br /><br />Shadows flooded the entrance way to the ominous stairs that dipped into the darkness to the floor below. The four companions peered into the darkness that loomed before them with baited breath. They stood, listening for the signs of movement before taking their first cautionary steps onto the steps that would lead them to the floor below.</span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">The cell that Lady Madeline found herself in; smelt like a sewer. She tried to prop herself up against the back wall of her cell, but found that she could only managed to get herself into half a sitting position before she moaned in pain. Dry blood caked her brow from a cut above her eye. She tried opening her right eye, but it wouldn’t, it was swollen shut. Pain from the effort of everything, caused her to stop and catch her breath. The sharp intake of air into her lungs caused even more pain as her lungs filled with air. She remembered how Black Wolf had beaten her before he had thrown her into the cell. She could feel herself vision starting to blur, she was starting to black out. Footfalls of approaching men could be heard outside her cell.<br /><br />“Bring the woman from the cells. Black Wolf wants her transported,” Madeline heard the man say from outside her cell door before the blackness took her.</span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Minge adjusted his cloak as he made his way down the corridor, the smell of rot lingered in air and bones littered the tunnel floor ahead. “Master Black Wolf would be most pleased with what you have learned,” he said as he climbed over some rubble. He looked back over his shoulder at the figure that travelled with him. “Careful, watch your step,” cautioned the little man, as he extended his hand to help his companion navigate the rubble. Black Wolf will be most pleased indeed,” repeated the Halfling. He smiled tentatively; looking up at the elegant long fingers that took his hand for support before him….<br />
<br />
<br />
</span></span></span>Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-59245080547580277932012-04-16T21:02:00.002+02:002022-04-17T10:05:25.441+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 010<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 010 - Return to the Moathouse</span><br />
<br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">WATERDAY, 05 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
Lareth heard the warning crackle of arcane energy, as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He turned to face his adversary. <br />
<br />
“You forget your place Lareth!” shouted Black Wolf, anger clearly evident in his voice. He had been caught off-guard by the priest sudden attack upon hearing his news. He kicked Lareth’s mace to one side that lay on the floor and brushed fragments of stone from his cloak. His composure regained from the earlier encounter he continued, “Don’t forget who you serve.”<br />
<br />
The bolt of arcane energy sprang from his hand, slamming into the Lareth’s stomach, the priest crumpled in a heap on the floor before him.<br />
<br />
“The Dark One will not be happy.” whispered Black Wolf, as he watched the arcane energy fade from his hand.<br />
<br />
Lareth in pain looked at the floor before him, where he had doubled over in pain. Black Wolf’s iron shod boots scrapped against the flagstones as he approached the priest. Kneeling down he leaned forward, wrapping Lareth’s robes in his balled fists in any effort to lift him from the ground. Standing he dragged the priest from the floor. Lareth tried to use the opportunity to break free of Black Wolf’s grip, but failed inflicted with the pain from the arcane spell.<br />
<br />
“Make sure you fulfil your end of this venture,” instructed Black Wolf releasing his grip on Lareth’s robes, pushing him into the wall.<br />
<br />
“You should have never sent Malek to Kleinmere. I had everything under control,” hissed Black Wolf as he turned to leave the room. “Dispatch your men and retrieve the dagger at the inn. I will take some men to retrieve the one from the church,” said Roderic as he closed the door behind him, not waiting for the priest’s response. <br />
<br />
“My spies reported differently,” sneered Lareth. The pain in his stomach still evident in his face, he looked up to now what was an empty room. “it is you that must not forget your place,” he said before cough caused him to wince in pain, reaching into his robes to grasp his holy symbol. The feel of the cold steel in his hands eased the pain somewhat. He murmured a prayer and soon had the pain fading from memory.<br />
<br />
Black Wolf was right he would need to send his men to retrieve the dagger before the opportunity was lost. He would put their differences aside for now …. Just for now!<br />
<br />
</span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
The group of friends returned from their meeting with Canon Terjon to the Welcome Wench. Finding a table, each settled down to a late breakfast. Silence descended the table as each of the companions reflected on what had brought them to Hommlet and the quest that Canon Terjon had bestowed upon them. It would be some time before the items that they had requested would be ready, before they could return to the moathouse.<br />
<br />
Duerin knew he had given his word to his church and he would see this errand through. It would be what Brother John would have wanted him to do. Markus’s thoughts lay with that of his mother and his retrenched uncle. He vowed that the man now known to him as Black Wolf, would soon feel the bite of his axe. Darius looked at his companions seated before him, circumstances had forced them together but his time here was almost at an end. He first needed to find Jaroo before he left for home and returned to his beloved Irriana with the druid’s help.<br />
<br />
Erehwon alone sat at the table conflicted with why he had agreed to help his friends. “Why was any of this his business?” He thought. “He had an axe to grind with Black Wolf … sure, but that was it, nothing more,” he said to himself. He soon found solace in a tankard of mead, his sombre mood changing after a while. “Maybe I will just go a long for another day or two,” he reasoned to himself. “After all I have made a few coins for my trouble.” He said as he drained the sweet honey mead from his tankard, “but only for a day or two.”<br />
<br />
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
Night Shade pulled her thick winter coat over her shoulders and gathered her staff. The staff cracked with arcane energy as she ran her hand down the wooden shaft before clasping her hand tightly around the wooden haft, near the top of the staff. Murmuring an arcane word, her and that of the staff transformed into that of an old lady with a crudely fashioned walking stick. Where once had stood a fine young lady of exceptional beauty now stood a crone. Looking upon her reflection in the mirror she cackled with glee and walked over to the small writing table.<br />
<br />
She pulled the letter that she had receive from her sleeve and held it to the candle’s flame. She watched as the parchment took flame before discarding it into the empty plate on the table. She smiled a toothless smile and cackled, as the flame melted the red wax with the initials B.W. pressed into the parchment. Gathering her things Night Shade took leave of the room that she had spent the night in.<br />
<br />
A short while later she spied a dwarf, an elderly man, a half-orc and a ruggedly handsome young man approaching her as she made her way down the road to the north. She let out a low whistle, “Yum! Yum!” she cackled and sported the young man a toothless grin, as he and his companions walked by.<br />
<br />
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
Anmar and Calodan set out for Dyvers at the request of Canon Terjon. Calodan had at first rejected the paladin’s request to accompany him At Anmar insistance he later managed to convince Calodan, with offers of splendour that City of Dyvers had to offer. “Fine wines, woman and taverns a plenty and not specifically in that order,” Anmar had ensured him. “Come boy it will be an adventure,” the paladin had said. “I know I am going to regret this,” he thought as he smiled at Anmar.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
The snow gently drifted to fall in the open courtyard of the moathouse, while the winter wind whistled through the crevices of the weathered mortar. Resulting in an eerie sound to the unexpecting visitor. Whilst a scampering of feet could be heard from the darkened corners of the chambers beyond the courtyard. The murky water sloshed against the muddy banks of the aging bastion, as a large serpentine reptile slithers through the clumps of floating lilies. The ominous and sombre mood of the moathouse and surrounds broken by the presence of patches of St. John’s Wort and Hawthorn plants. The St. John’s Wort flowering bright yellow flowers, in contrast to that of the Hawthorn bright red fruits that litter the banks of the moat. A distant caw of a dying bird breaks the late afternoon silence …</span></span>Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-56381892742097694962012-04-10T11:20:00.002+02:002012-04-15T11:05:03.140+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 009<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 009 - The Welcome Wench</span><br />
<br />
</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-txW8uik8aeE/T38R77SjtuI/AAAAAAAAA2E/qIpSwRkX-o8/s1600/welcomewench.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-txW8uik8aeE/T38R77SjtuI/AAAAAAAAA2E/qIpSwRkX-o8/s400/welcomewench.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">GODSDAY, 04 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY</span><br />
Darius watched the paladin as he ate his food. His old body ached from the journey and lack of sleep. They had left the moathouse for the paladin’s campsite earlier that morning to rest before returning to Hommlet. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">It wasn’t long before the weather had turned bad and they were forced to break camp, but not before the paladin had tendered to the half-orcs wounds.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">They had arrived in Hommlet shortly after sunset; both the village and the inn was a welcome site for the weary travellers. The village was hive of activity as the villagers prepared for the night’s festivities in celebration of the Winter Solstice.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The companions had all agreed that they needed food and rest first; discussions would come in the morning.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Markus and Erehwon were caught in the spirit of the festivities, each with a tankard of ale in hand and tales of their prowess in combat over the past few days. The half-orc had the table in laughter after his over embellished recount and re-enactment of Markus’s battle with giant frog. By his account the giant frog had taken a liking to the young ranger.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Duerin was caught up in his own thoughts. Tonight was apex of the festivities, the winter solstice or as some referred to it Dark Time. It was told that practitioners of dark magic would have greater influence of the dead this night. The Cuthbertine priest would not rest well this night.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Anmar leaned heavily back in his chair caught up in his own thoughts. The common room of the Welcome Wench was a buzz of activity. The paladin’s tankard rested awkwardly on his armoured knee, as
he looked across the table at the strangers seated before him. Amongst those seated at the table before him was a dwarf in service of St. Cuthbert and an old man of the old faith. Swallowing the bitter mead the paladin’s gaze fell onto the half-orc and the young human engaged in conversation at the end of the table.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">“Had St Cuthbert played a part in the rescue of the dwarf and his friends earlier this day?” thought Anmar. He thought back to the events that had led up to him being at the moathouse this day …<br />Anmar and Shepherd had watched the moathouse for weeks after the last assault had taken place in dungeons below the moathouse, but still the council would not heed the paladin’s warnings. Anmar would not let up his plea, the council needed to act. Finally the council agreed to hire a few men-at-arms from Rannos the trader to investigate the paladin’s claims.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">A few days later the party headed out for the ruins, led by Gremag and the captain of the militia, Delmo. There orders were to investigate and report back to the council their findings. The council ordered the paladin and the priest to stay in town and not to interfere with the investigation any further.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Shepherd had objected to the councils ruling and had said he would take matters into his own hands. It was at this point that both he and Anmar were escorted to the Welcome Wench and were ordered not to leave the establishment. They were instructed that they would be jailed for insubordination of the councils ruling if they did so.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Shepherd was not as patient as the young paladin, he was a man of action. He would not wait for the council to recognise the threat that the moathouse posed, nor would he wait for Gremag and Delmo to report back to the council. The young paladin had eventually managed to convince the priest after many words and an equal number of tankards of ale to wait for council’s men to return with their findings.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The following day Anmar and Shepherd were ordered to the manor house to hear Gremag and Kalic deliver their findings to the council. Both the paladin and the priest sat in silence and listened as the men delivered there report. They both found no evidence to support claims of the paladin and the priest of any activity in or around the moathouse. It was at this point that both the paladin and priest had sternly objected. Both insisted that Siam had fallen in the dungeons below the moathouse to a band of gnolls, led by a drow priest. Shepherd stormed out of the room calling the proceedings a farce and stating he would deal with the matter himself.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Anmar excused himself from the proceedings and returned to the Welcome Wench it pursuit of his friend. The paladin had entered the priest’s room just as the priest had packed the last of his belongings. <br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">“Anmar there is something afoul here and it has to do with that moathouse, the council won’t listen.” warned the priest as he strapped his mace to his leg. “Something is not right here. We need to act now, before it is too late. Are you with me?” Those were the last words that Shepherd had spoken to him before the priest had left the inn. Shepherd could see the answer, before the Anmar spoke, “NO … I c.. can’t, ” said the paladin. The priest nodded at his friend and slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked from the room.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Anmar was duty bound to the church and watched with a heavy heart as his friend left. He would not leave his friend to his own fate, he would petition Canon Terjon in order to aid a fellow parishioner. <br />That evening Anmar sought council with Canon Terjon, but it was only after evening prayers that Canon Terjon granted him audience to listen to his plea. <br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Anmar was relieved to hear that Terjon and the church supported his action. “I believe that an evil has gained a foothold in our village, paladin. Go find the priest and I will see what I can discover here. Now go and only report back to me Paladin,” instructed Terjon. “May St. Cuthbert protect and guide you.”<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Anmar felt a tug at his shoulder, “What is it ...” His thoughts interrupted. Looking over his shoulder he saw it was Calodan, the innkeeper’s son.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">“Would you like another tankard of ale, Anmar?” asked Cal.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">“Yes … and bring me plate of your spiced potatoes too,” said the paladin giving Calodan a stern look. “Sure … sure Anmar,” replied the young man as he turned to make his way to the kitchen. The confrontation with the paladin once again left Calodan conflicted, as he recalled the events from months earlier.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Lareth listened to Black Wolf’s report of the events that had taken place and how the assassin Malek had lost the daggers. He was not pleased.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Lareth stood from the chair, his robes rippled, the anger clearly visible on his handsome features, his hand tightened on his great mace at his side. In one swift motion the large mace was in his hand and he had Black Wolf pinned up against the wall. He brought the large mace down in an overhead swing; he could see the fear in Black Wolf’s eyes …<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">BUT before he could land the blow, he felt a tug at his sub consciousness, a familiar feeling. It was at the moment that Black Wolf managed to break free resulting in Lareth’s mace slamming into the wall.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">“The dagger … it is here Wolf! I can feel it …” said Lareth, his face now void of anger. His handsome features once again graced with a smile, a smile that unsettled Roderic.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span>Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-21544518835115196612012-04-04T13:03:00.001+02:002012-06-03T09:38:40.698+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 008<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 008 - A Beacon of Light</span><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PryLZS-WDTE/T4AGAN7KIuI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/5Rhg9RXtcQc/s1600/moathouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PryLZS-WDTE/T4AGAN7KIuI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/5Rhg9RXtcQc/s320/moathouse.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
<span style="font-size: small;">
<span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">GODSDAY, 04 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY </span> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Markus looked back at the scene in the room. He wanted no further surprises as he stepped through the portal. He needed to get his mother back and the gods knew where this portal would take them. Fuelled by the hatred for his uncle and the eagerness to save his mother the younger ranger stepped into the glowing portal.<br />
<br />
Markus felt like the fibre of his being was being pulled in every direction at once, when he first stepped into the portal. It stopped as abruptly as it started, then he felt the energy of the portal gently pulling him forward at first. A split second later the energy intensified as he was hurled forward into darkness.<br />
<br />
A moment later he felt his feet upon stone, but he was still in complete darkness. The portal winked out behind him.<br />
<br />
“Erehwon …! Darius …! Duerin …!” shouted the ranger. All he heard it return was silence. Feeling his way around Markus realised that he couldn’t hear anything at all, not even his own footsteps.<br />
<br />
Markus walked forward cautiously trying to feel his way further forward in the darkness. The oppressing silence added to his sudden paranoia. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Startled by something brushing against his leg, Markus let out a startled cry. He realise that there was something else in the room with him … </span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Erehwon, Darius and Duerin found themselves in a similar situation to that of Markus. The half-orc and the druid could feel the fear starting to settle into the pits of the stomachs, Duerin however did not share his friends fears.
</span><br />
</span></span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
The last thing the dying guard saw was the ranger stepping through the portal before his eyes closed.<br />
<br />
The light faded from the room as the energy dissipated from the spell that had brought forth the portal, bathing the room in darkness.<br />
<br />
The guard knew that his next breath would be his last. It was with his dying thoughts that he thought of his mother. He was sitting with her in there little cottage at the table as she brushed his hair.<br />
<br />
“One day you will be a great man Richard,” she said, “as long as you make the right choices, my son” he remembered her saying. “I .. I … I …. I am Sor..r..y mo..th..e.r ….” He thought as he died.<br />
</span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
Black Wolf dragged his cousin’s wife down the corridor, “Soon he would be rid of her,” he thought.<br />
<br />
“STOP your snivelling bitch or I will gut your son and feed his entrails to the animals,” he snarled at Madeline. The back of his hand slammed into her cheek and he could see the fear growing in her eyes. It made him smile ...<br />
</span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
Lareth looked at the report lying on his desk, things were progressing as planned. Soon he would be able to initiate phase two of his plan. The priest’s thought were interrupted by the sudden appearance of one of his men. “YES!” he scowled.<br />
<br />
“Black Wolf milord … he is here. He wished to speak with you on a matter of urgency.”
“FOOL! Bring him to me at once! Check to see if he was followed! YOU will report back to me immediately on your findings,” instructed Lareth.
The man nodded his head and hastily retreated from the room.<br />
</span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
Anmar watch from the bushes just outside of the moathouse. The paladin waited for an opportunity to find a way into the moathouse without being seen. As his luck would have it the weather was in his favour this day and he would find his friends, even if Caloden had given up hope. Today he would find Siam and Shepherd; he could feel it in his gut. Today he would have his day to right a wrong, by the grace of St. Cuthbert, he would.
<br />
</span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
Tarrick watched from the shadows of the bushes, as Darius hid the dagger in the grove of trees some distance away from the cottage. The dryad would be asleep for some time still, with the herbed tea he had given her, but he would need to return before Darius did, or the old man would suspect something. The old man hastily made his way back to the cottage. He would return to the grove later, once he was sure that Darius was on his way back to Kleinmere. Then the dagger would be his … </span></span></span></span></span>Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-44536203322804011962012-03-26T16:18:00.001+02:002022-04-17T10:05:32.553+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 007<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 007 - The Road to Hommlet </span><br />
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">MOONDAY, 03 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY </span>
<br />
Duerin watched as Erehwon’s great axe cleaved the head off of the zombie that once was Malek. The severed head sprayed bloody ichor as it tumbled through the air, landing a few feet away from its headless torso.<br />
<br />
“He-Who-Watches … AAARGH!!” roared the half-orc in a triumphant. In a final defiant act, the lifeless corpse poised its sword ready to strike.<br />
<br />
Erehwon readied his great axe in anticipation to counter the blow, but watched as the headless corpse faltered in its footing, dropping to its knees, before slumping to the ground in a pool of black ichor. <br />
<br />
The dwarf watched the severed head flying through the air it landed with a wet, sloshy thud; the black ichor flowed freely from the severed head to mingle with the freshly fallen snow. He swore he could see dark magic fade from the things eyes. The severed heads lifeless eyes stared back at him.<br />
<br />
Black Wolf grasped his holy symbol in pain. The touch of the cold metal gave him pause; he knew he had to make his escape. He held his holy symbol aloft and recited the words he had been taught. A blast of unholy energy ripped through the graveyard. <br />
<br />
“AAAR-G-H-H-H!!!” cursed the half-orc, moments before the energy slammed into Markus.<br />
<br />
Erehwon’s cry of anguish refocused the younger ranger’s thoughts on matter before him. The half-orc staggered forward, his legs faltering, his wounds making his legs feeling like lead, fatigued from exertion of the battle. He could feel his strength draining from his limbs from his many wounds. Erehwon brought his great axe around for one last mighty cleave in an attempt to sever the priest in two. The effort made his head reel in pain. Roderic moved at the last moment, anticipating the manoeuvre. Stepping inside the path of the blow caused the blow to glance off his armoured shoulder.<br />
<br />
Erehwon’s found himself falling to the cold wet ground. His strength spent, the half-orc blacked out.<br />
Roderick watched the half-orc crash to the ground before him. He spotted his mace lying in the snow next to the spent half-orc, he took the opportunity to retrieve his weapon before making his escape.<br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
Markus caught site of his insidious uncle’s escape towards the crypt, the uncle he now knew was Black Wolf.<br />
<br />
The young ranger hesitated in indecision, his reactions dulled with conflict. He looked back over his shoulder to see his mother still bound. She lay with her back towards him in a shallow grave, her clothes bloody and torn and whilst his uncle was fleeing before him.<br />
<br />
His instincts told him to chase after his uncle, but his heart told him to tend to his mother and get her to safety. <br />
<br />
“Duerin, Darius follow him,” shouted Markus as he made his way to his mother. <br />
<br />
She just lay there, not moving. Markus carefully slid alongside his mother in the shallow grave. He lifted her head to his chest, holding her in his arms he looked for signs of life.<br />
<br />
A shallow heart beat could be felt ….. <br />
<br />
Suddenly her eyes opened and stared up at him. It was at that moment he knew that the person before him was NOT his mother. Confused, scared and repulsed, Markus pushed the woman away from him. Before his eyes, the woman before him started to waver and change. The young man blinked and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes.<br />
<br />
The person before him was no longer a woman, but a man. The man resembled his mother’s features. He recognised the man to be one of his uncle’s guards from the manor house. Then man was called Jonas. Markus was suddenly filled with anger, an animal rage overcame him and it was Jonas who paid the price.<br />
<br />
Markus stood in the shallow grave his fury spent, his hands bruised and covered in blood. He looked down at the body of the guard at his feet. The bile rose up in his throat. The once handsome Jonas with raven black hair lay in the wet snow, his face beaten to a pulp; the only sign of life was the frothy blood that flowed from where his mouth and nose once were.<br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
<br />
Black Wolf had come close to retrieving the dagger. If it hadn’t been for the meddling old man, everything would have gone to plan. The priest climbed down the mettle rungs that led to the crypt and made his way further into the crypt. He would gather up his men, what he needed and head for Hommlet. <br />
<br />
“The slavers could have the bitch; she was of no more use to him anyhow. Maybe he should just slit her throat himself. Now the same could not be said for young Markus and his friends. They would all die and slowly at that,” vowed Roderic.<br />
<br />
The priest had watched as the undead had risen from the ground to his aid in the graveyard, not at his command. He had felt the call of the dagger in the graveyard. He had seen what effect the dagger had on the dead, and now he wanted the dagger for himself. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
The dusty, rutted road lined with closely-grown hedges of brambles and shrubs. Here and there it cut through a copse of trees or crossed a rivulet. To either hand, forest and meadow have given way to field and orchard. A small herd of kine graze nearby, the woman noticed as show walked the road. In the distance she could see a hill dotted with the wand stone chimneys with thin plumes of blue smoke rising from them.<br />
<br />
A road angled west into the hill country, and to either side of the road ahead are barns and buildings, “Hommlet at last!” she thought, pulling her cloak tight around her shoulders as she made haste for the warm common room of the Welcome Wench.</span>Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-497534653163290912012-03-19T21:53:00.000+02:002012-04-13T20:06:55.345+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 006<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">PRELUDE TO ADVENTURE </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 006 - Black Wolf</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZGGDmxdhQjg/T2eOckt4o4I/AAAAAAAAAzU/3c5vS384Li0/s1600/no_image_h+%282%29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZGGDmxdhQjg/T2eOckt4o4I/AAAAAAAAAzU/3c5vS384Li0/s200/no_image_h+%282%29.jpg" width="127" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #b45f06;">MOONDAY, 03 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY </span></div>
The Wayward Inn was a bustle of activity and merriment. Patrons drinking whilst listening to an old bard strumming his lute with tales of old. Serving wenches worked balancing trays with food and mead and food. They made their way around the common room, serving patrons and slapping an old patron when his hand went a wondering, where it shouldn’t<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Markus sat with a heavy heart, even the tankard of ale he had bought had lost its appeal. Duerin had taken his leave earlier in the evening and had returned home. He had said something about needing rest and evening prayers. <br />
<br />
Markus peered over at the half-orc who sat at the other end of the table; he had devoured four plates of spicy potatoes, a whole chicken and six tankards of honey mead and looked to be trying to gain one of the serving wench’s attentions again.<br />
<br />
Soon Markus’s thoughts were drawn back to the past few days, trying to see if there was something he may over looked. He sat there contemplating what he could have done differently, to no avail. He drained the tankard of ale and thought it best if return to his uncle’s manor; maybe he had overlooked something there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Erehwon was most disappointed that they needed to leave, as he had just ordered another plate of spicy potatoes and a tankard of ale, but never the less agreed to accompany Markus back to his uncle’s manor. They made their way back to the manor house, but it wasn’t until the two friends had crossed the courtyard that they noticed that both the cottage and manor house were in complete darkness.<br />
<br />
Markus made his way to the cottage he and Bren shared. <br />
<br />
Opening the door he reached for the lantern that hung to the side of the door. The wick of the lantern soon burnt with a strong flame, turning the nozzle of the lantern the flame grew brighter, bathing the room in a warm light. Markus looked inside the small room; he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise up as he entered the room. The first thing he noticed was that room had been ransacked. The bed lay overturned in the corner of the room and the contents of the cupboard lay strewn across the floor.<br />
<br />
“The dagger,” Markus thought, “They were searching for the dagger, and luckily the Cuthbertine priest had taken the dagger with him.”<br />
<br />
There was no sign of Bren, or his uncle’s guards for that matter. Cautiously Markus and the half-orc made their way across to the large manor house. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Duerin return to his small home that he shared with Brother John. It was with that thought that he realised the truth, Brother John was dead. The young dwarf was overcome with remorse for the loss of his mentor and friend. He vowed that he would find all that were responsible for the death of the priest and he would have justice. He walked over to the hearth.<br />
<br />
The dwarf knelt to start a fire, to give the cottage some warmth. Taking some bread and dried meats from the shelf he walked over to the table opposite the hearth. Sitting down the dwarf ate his evening meal deep in thought. After he finished eating he retired to his cot and spent the rest of the evening in prayer to St. Cuthbert.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Darius and Tarrick made their way to the old druid’s cottage in the Fens. The night was cold and the road was covered in sludge from the earlier snow fall. The old friends travelled in silence.<br />
It was around midnight when they reached the old cottage. <br />
<br />
Darius opened the door to his home, calling out to Irriana’s as he entered the cottage. Tarrick followed the old druid in. There they found Irriana asleep in Darius’s bed, he brow burnt with fever. “Tarrick please tend to her,” urged Darius. “First I must gather my things from the donkey,” instructed Tarrick. “While I am doing that you can fetch some water for that pot on the fire,” said the healer pointing to the large pot.<br />
<br />
The old healer placed his things on the floor of the cottage and proceeded to examine the dryad. Some time passed before Tarrick spoke to Darius. “I can save her, but I need the help of an old friend from Hommlet, Jaroo. He knows more of these fey creatures, than I do. Take word to him and tell him I need his help,” said Tarrick. “I will do what I can for her until you or Jaroo returns. I have enough herbs and potions to make her comfortable, I assure you,” said Tarrick. “Return to Kleinmere and travel with the Cuthbertine Priest, he too must travel to Hommlet,” instructed Tarrick, “It is best not to travel alone.”<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
“What of the du Monte boy ...? Does he have the dagger?” enquired the man known as Black Wolf. The Halfling took a double step back, as his master turned to look at him. “DOES HE HAVE THE DAGGER!” shouted Black Wolf again with his fist clenched tightly in front of the Halfling. <br />
<br />
“M-m-m-master Wolf, we couldn’t find the dagger. We search the boy’s cottage and the manor house. I-i-i-it’s not my fault master. He must have given the dagger to one of the others, maybe to that Cuthbertine priest,” stammered Minge.<br />
<br />
Black Wolf stroked his chin as he listened to the halfling's report; he could feel the anger growing inside of him.<br />
<br />
“FOOL!” shouted Black Wolf, his anger evident as he backhanded the cowering halfling into the table. “All I asked was for you to bring me the dagger. A small task you said. A task I will remind you that both you and that assassin Malek failed at.” With that Black Wolf picked the little Halfling up by his neck, “What of the exchange, little one? Will he come to the graveyard?”<br />
<br />
Minge swallowed hard as he felt Black Wolf’s hand tighten around his throat and lift him off the floor. He blinked hard to hold back the tears; desperately he spoke, “m-m-m-Master he will meet you alone at dawn.” It was all he could say before he felt himself being tossed to the side of the room. Minge crashed into the wall and lay there in a crumpled heap, gasping for air.<br />
<br />
Regaining his composure Black Wolf walked over to the writing table. Sitting at the table he penned a note that he needed delivered to Hommlet. He lifted the red sealing wax to the candle that burned on the table. The red wax burnt with a thick acrid smoke. Holding the melting wax above the parchment, he dripped the wax onto the parchment forming a small puddle. He took a moment to let the wax dry before placing his signet ring into the wax puddle; he made a fist pushing the ring into the warm wax. Upon removing his ring from the wax, the initials B.W. was imprinted into the wax.<br />
Pushing the chair out that he sat on, Black Wolf walked over to the door, his fur-lined cloak bellowing with the sudden motion. Opening the door he addressed the man in the corridor, “Deliver this letter to one of our agents in Hommlet and make haste.<br />
<br />
“And you my Halfling friend … Have you prepared things like I have asked?” asked Black Wolf. “When do our friends arrive from Highport?<br />
“Yes … Master, I have. They arrive the day after tomorrow and they agree to your terms,” responded the Halfling.<br />
“Good … now leave me,” said Black Wolf his mind already on other matters.<br />
The Halfling took his leave, closing the door behind him, “One day Minge will have his day… one day,” he muttered as he walked down the corridor. <br />
<br />
Black Wolf let the hood of his cloak fall back onto his shoulders and looked upon his reflection in the window. <br />
<br />
“What fools these people are,” he thought. “No one suspected a thing. That fool, du Monte would pay dearly for his wife’s return. Then there was the small matter of his son, Markus du Monte, but he would succumb to an ill-fated accident”. The thought brought a smile to his face, as he ran his fingers through his receding hairline<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Bren lay in the dark cubbyhole, his feet and hands bound. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in the cottage. When he awoke he found himself here in this dark, rancid place. “Could things get any worse …,” he thought. It was at that point he felt something large crawl over his legs …Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-59272594157791044392012-03-13T00:55:00.001+02:002012-04-13T20:04:41.851+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 005<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">PRELUDE TO ADVENTURE </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 005 - Kidnap & Ransom</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y41uVcF-mA4/T15-wiVPWZI/AAAAAAAAAy0/CsGiYhazG-I/s1600/.token.drag.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y41uVcF-mA4/T15-wiVPWZI/AAAAAAAAAy0/CsGiYhazG-I/s200/.token.drag.png" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #b45f06;">SUNDAY, 02 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY </span></div>
Duerin watched with gritted teeth as the assassin Malek fled the room with one of the daggers. Cursing there luck, he looked down at his warhammer. His hands, his knuckles white, taught with anger, conflicted; the dwarf looked inward to his teachings, that of St. Cuthbert. He found some solace in the teachings that Brother John had taught him, as he recited them to himself. He needed to figure a way out of the chamber, that he and his friends found themselves trapped in. Once freed of this place he had a score to settle with Malek, for killing the Cuthbertine priest. He felt his emotions waver as he thought of Brother John.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
From the other side of the protective circle Erehwon watched his friend, “Duerin! What be the matter?” asked the half-orc. "Was that …"<br />
<br />
“Nothing! I just got some dirt in my eye …” replied the dwarf, fixing the half-orc with a stern look.<br />
<br />
“Haven’t you got something better to do, than to fuss with me?” scowled Duerin. The dwarf’s thoughts went back to the problem at hand.<br />
<br />
It all boiled down to, if anyone left the protective circle that they found themselves in, then the fire glyph would activate. “Unless he or someone else was willing to take the risk, they would be down here a while,” thought the dwarf. <br />
<br />
Looking around the room the Cuthbertine priest could see mildew, moulds and fungi that covered the room’s walls. Spores filled the air in response to the movement within the circle. The jet black stone altar stood ominous, its base covered with bleached skulls, tendrils of fungi flowing from the exposed cavities. Duerin’s gaze fell upon the symbol of the fiery eye chiselled on the back wall above the altar; it still glowed with magical energy from the last blast of the fiery glyph.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Markus had managed to get off an arrow just as the assassin had fled the room. In his haste the arrow had gone wide, clipping Malek’s cape as he made his escape. The young ranger had quickly notched another arrow, and was about to pursuit the assassin, but before he could even take a step; he felt someone pull him back from the edge of the circle. In his eagerness he had forgotten the fire glyph. <br />
<br />
The four companions weighed up there options, they would need to act fast for Malek was getting away once again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Bren tried to get off the ground, his head reeled in pain. He could feel the nausea rising from the pit of his stomach; he let the contents of his stomach spill onto the floor of the cottage. The pain in his head subside a little and his vision began to clear. Slowly he lifted himself into a sitting position, peering around the room. He slowly lifted his hand to touch the back of his head, his hair was caked and matted with dry blood. His blood …<br />
<br />
The room was a mess, the table lay on its side, the chair shattered, his sword lay to one side, a piece of embroidered cloth lay in a pool of wine, the empty container shattered nearby. He struggled to recall the earlier events of the evening. <br />
<br />
"Lady Madeline!" Pain forgotten, Bren gathered his sword and pulled himself to his feet.<br />
<br />
The old ranger used the sword as a crutch to steady himself. “Madeline!”<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%;"> He called out again, h</span>e cringed in pain from the wound to his head. Striding across the room, he made his way to the door. It was there that he saw the note that was attached to the door. Tearing the note from the door, he slumped down on the floor. <br />
<br />
“Markus du Monte …<br />
Come alone to the Wayward Inn at sunset.<br />
Bring the dagger or the woman will die.”<br />
B.WRory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-115471947250765414.post-12665605182657917972012-03-08T09:36:00.001+02:002012-04-13T20:03:05.159+02:00LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 004<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">PRELUDE TO ADVENTURE </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">SESSION 004 - Tendrils of Corruption</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XfSrsVIk7dE/T1hg_peCcDI/AAAAAAAAAxM/RRVeHpE5prQ/s1600/Malek.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XfSrsVIk7dE/T1hg_peCcDI/AAAAAAAAAxM/RRVeHpE5prQ/s200/Malek.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #b45f06;">STARDAY, 01 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY </span></div>
Darius was in no mood for the argument that had erupted after the discovery that Malek had escaped. They had paid no heed to his words and now the assassin was once again a problem. He pondered there options as he played with Malek’s ring. The light from the torches catching the silver band, as it rolled back and forth in the palm of his hand. It was then that Darius remembered about the assassin’s magical cloak. Looking around he saw it laying on the ground near to where the fight had taken place. He walked over and picked up the cloak that they had stripped from the Malek; the cloak was a lot lighter than it appeared.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Erehwon cupped his hands over the hilts of the daggers that were stashed in his belt. He thought back to how he had managed to disarm the assassin in the chamber with the pool of dark stagnant liquid. “How Malek had cursed his luck,” he chuckled softly to himself and now he had both of the daggers. The half-orc tightened his grip on the daggers. The buzzing sounds of Markus and Duerin voices soon faded into the silence that filled the half-orc’s mind.<br />
<br />
The voices at first were hard to distinguish, but after a while he could make out two distinct voices calling out to him, one male, and the other female. Then voices spoke in unison, “Return us to the sanctum of our father, do this and you will be richly rewarded…” then sudden silence ensued thereafter. Erehwon shook his head and blinked his eyes to try and clear his mind. The corridor came back into focus, his friends still stood arguing before him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
“WHY dammit! Markus muttered to himself more than to anyone else. Bren always said, “Boy listen to your gut, it will save your life.” If only he had listened to his gut, then he wouldn’t be stuck down here in the crypt with Malek halfway to who knows where.<br />
<br />
They had only realised the assassin was gone when they had heard the stone slab fall into place. He could still hear the grating sound the stone made as it slid into place followed by a dull thud as it locked into place. They were in no position to explore the crypt any further, as all of them were injured and in need of rest. The ranger’s shoulder ached from battle with Malek, it would be a while longer before he could rest and get Darius to check it again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Malek made his way back to the village. He wasn’t looking forward to delivering his report, let alone report that he had lost the daggers. He waited in the darkness in the small cottage. <br />
<br />
The cottage he waited in had fallen into disrepair and watched as a large rat passed him by. The rat stopped sniffed the air, its whiskers twitching as it turned to regard the man hidden in the shadows with its beady red eyes. Malek stepped forth to give the wretched rodent a kick, but stopped in mid stride. He watched as a figure appeared from the shadows before him. The man brought his steel shod boot down on the rodents head. The rat’s squeaked as its head was crushed into a gory mass of flesh and bone on the stone floor, the rat’s body continued to spasm for a few seconds after the fur-lined cloaked man removed his metal shod boot from the rodents head.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
“Are you a rodent … assassin?” He asked from the shadows of his hooded cloak, while he scraped the gore from his boot on edge of the hearth.<br />
<br />
Malek was cut short with his response, “It was a rhetorical question … assassin. Do you have the dagger?” “No Master Blackwolf ...,” Malek let his answer hang in the air for a moment before continuing, “There were complications.”<br />
<br />
The man’s cloak bellowed as he struck the assassin …. “Foool!” He hissed. “We need that dagger before the end of the festival. Vanaur will not be pleased. I will not be accountable for your incompetence assassin. GET ME THE DAGGER!” He growled at the assassin. <br />
<br />
“What of Markus du Monte? He was amongst those that were in the crypt.” asked Malek. <br />
<br />
“Kill him … kill them all, but get that dagger back,” said Master Blackwolf as he turned and walked back into the shadows he had come from.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LWQZxrSPfZ8/T38GBxgPRlI/AAAAAAAAA18/6U0Z5p1dMng/s1600/line.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Malek walked over to the hearth; looking over his shoulder he removed a stone from the side of the stone worked fireplace. Carefully placing the stone on the floor, the assassin reached in and disarmed the trap he had set. He removed the bundle from the cubbyhole that he had hidden when he first arrived in the village. The assassin laid the bundle on the floor of the cottage and slowly opened the waterproof sack peeling the layers back to reveal its contents.<br />
<br />
He collected the items from the floor and stashed them his belt pouch, except for the ring which he put on his finger. All that remained left was a potion and a silver dagger. Malek uncorked the potion and down its contents. He could feel the warmth of the liquid course through his body as the magical liquid began to heal his wounds.<br />
<br />
Lastly the assassin picked up the dagger, the dagger gleamed with magic. Malek activated the dagger by saying the phrase as he had many times before. “Markus du Monte,” he said aloud, followed by the same phrase he had spoken to activate the dagger earlier. The dagger flared with a red glow as he spoke the final word.<br />
<br />
Now the Markus du Monte would meet his death he chuckled …Rory Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08933513029032043767noreply@blogger.com1