Monday, October 1, 2018

The Yawning Portal

Session One:  The Yawning Portal



Davian 

This feels silly, I can’t really believe I’m doing this, but you were my rock, and I miss you father.  I’m really in the deep end here, this is so different than what we were used to, I don’t know what I’m doing.  But I helped save a few people, well meaning people, so I guess I’m doing the right thing.

Waterdeep is, wow, it’s this thriving place.  So much noise, it’s tough to think sometimes.  Thank goodness we spent half of today in that sewer, so much more quiet than above.  Looking back, I do have to chuckle, going from a spotless room in the inn to the filth of the sewer, in only a few hours.
 
I killed.  Not to eat like when we were in the forest, I killed an intelligent being.  Part of me felt…good.  It scares me a bit.  I mean, death is a part of life, it’s the inevitable end, but I was that end.  It was the right thing to do, to spare an innocent, but even still.  I wasn’t even in Waterdeep for a full day before I was killing these giant mosquitos, the blood flying everywhere.  And then this giant lumbering beast, I think they said it was a troll … I helped end that life.  The next day it was some bird people, and there was one that was left to suffer, to be our guide and to die first if his friends tried to hurt us.  It just felt wrong, and yet, deep down, a part of me was glad to see our enemy suffer before his inevitable death.  The people I’m with, they don’t seem fazed by death at all.  There’s a cleric, a wizard (or at least I think she’s a wizard, yeah, she, I met a woman), and some big guy who kept talking about honor.

I found Volo, your old guild mate.  He’s…odd.  We saved his nephew, assisted by the nephew’s drinking buddy.  The buddy’s fascinating.  Went from cowering to self-professed hero.  I guess it will take a while before I understand people. 

I think I laid eyes on a real mindflayer, like what you used to tell stories of.  I wonder if any of the ones you encountered had a brain as a pet.  I’m sure we’ll face him at some point, he may be looking to seek retribution for the death of his pet, and maybe of the half-orc that was also with him.

The deaths seem to have fueled some sort of change in me, I feel like I’ve tapped into some well of power, my skin is still tingling.  I’m both concerned and elated, waiting anxiously to see what this means.

Good night father…oh, habits die hard….


Yasuo


Mighty tree trembles
Cherry blossoms fall freely
The sword has cut deep
- Shimazu Yasuo

Eizo-san, I humbly offer my report of my service to Geddarm Volothamp.  All things have a beginning, and I will start with my first encounter with Volo-san.

When I answered the summons to the Yawning Portal at precisely eight bells, I found it to be full of people from all ranks.  I did not see Volo-san so I found a place to sit where I could be watchful and guarded.  It was louder and more raucous than similar establishments in Doiyu, but not much different other than that.

In the center of the common room was a very large pit, somewhat like a dry well, that lead to the depths bellow.  This apparently gave the establishment its name.  It seems that occasionally people go down there looking for adventure.

After a short while I saw a group of street thugs enter.  One of them had an eye tattooed on the side of his head, whom I would meet again later.  They seemed to have an issue with a rather large Orc female and her Half-Elf companion.  I would later find out that the Half-Elf was Alimar Quinn, a Priest of Tempus.  A brief, harmless fight broke out and the thugs fled.  I only mention the incident because it is the first time that I saw Quinn, my future companion, and he with the eye tattoo.

In the commotion no one noticed a creature climbing up out of the pit with something like blood bats hanging off of it, and three more flying about its head.  The moment I saw its hand appear from below I knew that I must engage it, and strode forward to do so.  I was not alone.

The Elven Wizard Liadon Thia cast a bolt of flame at one of the bat-like things but it evaded her.  Regrettably the bolt continued on to strike an upper balcony and set it on fire.

As we continued our assault we began to see that most of its wounds healed, making this a considerable foe.  The bats were a trivial matter.  Eventually we prevailed, subduing the creature until the proprietor doused it with oil and set it on fire.  This technique will be a good one to remember.  I am told that the creature was a Troll.

As we kicked the burning corpse over the ledge and back into the pit Volo-san entered the room, congratulating us on our victory as if it had been a great feat rather than the simple fight that it was.  I continue to have trouble understanding these people whom you have brought me amongst.

Introductions were made as we got down to business.  Alimar Quinn, Liadon Thia, and Targana Davian, an Aasimar Sorcerer.

Volo-san needed a party to look into the disappearance of his nephew, Blagmar Floon, with whom he had been recently drinking.  They had parted ways in an unseemly tavern, and Floon-san had not been seen since.  Volo-san asked if we would look into his disappearance, and contracted our services to do so.

We retired to our respective lodgings and prepared for the excursion.

The next day we set out in search of Floon-san, visiting an opium den along the way just out of curiosity.  From there we continued gathering information about the last sighting of our quarry.

Our information lead us to a warehouse owned by one of the cities gangs, who are predictably engaged in one of the turf wars that seem to be required of such organizations.  The warehouse was locked, but thanks to The God of Many Mirthful Voices a ‘key to a lost lock’ Quinn had procured at the opium den miraculously opened the door.  The Oni of Waterdeep clearly have a sense of humor.

Arrows flew out of the pitch-black darkness as soon as we opened the door, and fire bloomed as our sorcerers set our birdman assailants alight.  I charged in to engage them, killing one on arrival but suffering grievous injury for my troubles.  I regret to inform you that I nearly fell in battle.  As I lay there and watched the last of my blood  flowing out onto the floor I felt such shame as I can not adequately express.  Not that I would die in battle, for he who would avoid death only finds it quicker.  No, my shame was my failure to return Floon-san to Volo-san, and that by doing so I would not properly show honor to you and to my father.  This I could not bear.  As my shame burned inside of me I experienced a new surge of life as I refused to abandon my duty.  With a scream of rage I invoked my indomitable spirit, exacting retribution as I stood.  The battle was soon over.

The others in my group looked for spoils of war as is the duty of the lesser classes.  In doing so they found the hostage Neverember Renaer, son of Neverember Dagult, who as a friend of Floon-san soon joined our party.   Dagult was an important noble from Waterdeep’s recent past, I am told.  His son is a self-promoting buffoon, but he did pull his weight.

We learned important details from the birdman we had left alive for interrogation, which sadly lead us into the sewers.  I used the birdman as a shield as I lead the way through the unfortunate refuse as we wound through the maze of tunnels.  We eventually came to a chamber with a floating eye creature that was presumably guarding a junction room that had a ladder up and a marked passage forward.  Quinn bluffed the eye into letting us pass, and we continued down the tunnel.

We soon came to another guarded chamber, this one with guards behind arrow slits and a central column blocking our view into the rest of the room.  Quinn and Thia attempted to sneak up and kill the guards before they could raise a warning, but were not successful.  Thia summoned a ball of exploding ice that instantly killed her target, making a huge racket in the process, while Quinn's attempt regrettably did nothing more than alert the guard on his side.  The guard managed to sound the alarm before being ended, but fortunately no one answered.

This chamber had a door leading out of the muck and into a more civilized series of rooms.  We explored this area until we reached a place where we heard voices on the other side of another door, voices we determined were unfriendly.  I immediately kicked down the door and my party engaged the occupants.  I was surprised to see the thug with the eye tattoo, who was on his knees trying to stuff rags into the crack beneath the far door as if trying to keep out smoke from a fire.  The other occupant was a grey dwarf I would later learn was of the race Duergar.  The dwarf grew in size as he attacked, and his blows landed with the strength of two men.  He almost killed Quinn during the fight, but our combined might was sufficient to prevail.  There were no special tricks like there was for the Troll, it was just honest sword work.

We continued on after we restored Quinn, eventually coming to a chamber with more of the bizarre creatures that seem to proliferate in this area.  There was an Orc mage too, torturing Floon-san.  I regret to inform you that I did not immediately rush to Floon-san's aid, so taken aback was I by the Oni in this room.  It was a human-like entity with the head of an octopus, petting a brain-like creature.  I could immediately sense the evil power emanating from it, power confirmed as it shrugged off the attack from Thia as if it were nothing more than a child's whisper.  The brain-like creature entered the battle and I quickly dispatched it.  The Oni casually walked away from us like it had nothing to fear, and sensing the truth in that we chose not to pursue it.

We killed the Orc and saw to the wounded, and briefly surveyed the room.  There was an escape hatch in the ceiling and we took it.  It lead into the kitchen of some peasants who were most surprised to see us, as one would imagine.  Floon-san demanded soup as his due as a lord, and I was satisfied that they quickly complied.  We then made our way back to deliver Volo-san's nephew.

I have experienced much in a short time, and have been forced to face the fact that sometimes all of the training and all of the skill are not enough to guarantee the fulfillment of duty.  I shall have to reflect deeply on this.

Brightly shining star
Implacably enduring
Show me your secrets

- Shimazu Yasuo



Father

I arrived in Waterdeep safe and sound with Uumaga, who has been a most insightful teacher.  I feel like I have a good grasp of the common language of these Western people.

On landing we were met by the Cassalanter House, who generously prepared lodgings in the Golden Harp.  The Golden Harp is a prestigious establishment that got its name from a harp that periodically appears in random areas, playing music before disappearing again.

The people here are very diverse, but very few understand honor or show proper respect.  I am beginning to understand that the nobles here are shamefully obsessed with wealth and other disgraceful things, and that this is not only tolerated but it is the expected behavior!  What manner of people are these, that can willfully abandon honor and propriety in the name of self-indulgence and gluttony?  There is no greater good here, there is no community effort, it is everyone for themselves!  Everyone is claiming credit for everything, regardless of whether or not they had a hand in it, and everyone proclaims that they have done it alone rather than as a result of accumulated effort!  It disgusts me.  I recently had cause to go into the local sewers and a prevailing thought was that it might be full of shit but at least it is honest about it.  In some ways that made it preferable to life above them.

I struggle to apply the lessons I have learned to Waterdeep and it's people.  I have much to think about and much to learn.

I met Volo-san, the author that I am told you once hosted.  He was in need of assistance and I was honored to help him in your name.  He sends his regard.



Oyasuminasai, father.  I hope this finds you and mother well.


Thia Liadon


1 Mirtul 1492DR - First Day in Waterdeep


My first day in Waterdeep began by waiting in a long line to enter the city’s South Gate. Upon reaching the gate and paying the toll, I was given a copy of the city’s Code Legal. Apparently, Lords and Magisters have the authority to determine guilt and assign sentences. Obviously I won’t be breaking any laws, but I will be sure to avoid the appearance of breaking laws, as well. I don’t want to be judged and sentenced on the spot for something I didn’t do. Thankfully the man at the gate informed me that using magic in the city is illegal unless you are registered. He directed me to the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors guild, and I swiftly headed there to register.


After registering, I asked where I might find Volothamp Geddarm. My father sent me here to acquire a copy of Volo’s new tome, after all. I learned that Volo is at the Yawning Portal Inn every evening, so I asked for directions and made my way there. I was told that the Yawning Portal was named for a large hole, resembling a well, in the floor that leads to the Undermountain. All sorts of adventurers gather at this inn. I’m bound to hear great tales if I spend time here. The establishment is run by ex-adventurer Durnan. He seems like decent guy, and good judge of character and skill. He came over to me and said that I wasn’t going down the well. Ouch. Well, I suppose I have no serious adventuring experience, so it’s for the best. I just wish my lack of skill wasn’t so obvious.


While waiting for Volo, four thugs--one with a tattooed eye on the side of his head--entered and picked a fight with an orc. I wonder if this is a typical occurrence. A half-elf--who I would later learn to be Quinn Alimer, Cleric of Tempus--jumped in to help her. After the thugs were defeated and left, a troll climbed out of the well! Three giant mosquitoes (called stirges, according to my later research) were attached to the troll and started flying after patrons. People were running and screaming. I tried to help, but my aim was off. I need more practice with my fire bolt spell. Training at home with targets is one thing, but actually facing a frightening monster and putting that training into practice is a challenge. An Aasimar sorcerer, Davian Targana, killed off all three stirges easily with magic missile. I should have thought of that. A samurai named Yasuo Shimazu, and the cleric from the earlier, Quinn, fought off the troll until Durnan could kill it and toss it back into the pit.


Right after the fight, Volo Geddarm introduced himself and asked us to find his nephew, Floon Blagmar. Volo described Floon as a handsome, harmless buffoon, and said he might have been kidnapped. He said that violence in the city has increased, with more fighting between the factions. To encourage us to accept this quest to find Floon, he gave us each 10gp upfront and promised us each another 100gp when we find him. Hopefully we find Floon, but I doubt we will see the 100gp even if we do. Volo’s purse seemed a little empty. Before he departed, I explained that I had been sent to Waterdeep to acquire his new tome. At this, he signed a copy of his previous book, Volo's Guide to Monsters, and gave it to me. (While also taking back 5gp as payment.) He said to come see him later about his new book, Volo's Guide to Spirits and Specters, which he hasn’t finished yet. Drat. My quest was almost completed. But while I wait for his new book, I get to go on my very own adventure, like in my mother’s stories!


Side note: While at the Yawning Portal, a woman gave Quinn a snake coin. I'm unsure of what it means at this time.


The four of us--Yasuo Shimazu, Quinn Alimer, Davian Targana, and myself--agreed to meet back at the Yawning Portal the next morning to look for Floon. Volo had said that Floon was last seen at the Skewered Dragon two nights ago, so that’s where we will go. I made my way to the Font of Knowledge, also known as Oghma’s temple and the Great Library, to stay the night. But how could I rest while surrounded by so many books? I didn’t, at least not right away. I spent hours exploring the library and reading the book that Volo gave me before finally calming my mind to meditate.


2 Mirtul 1492DR - Finding Floon


Bright and early, our adventuring party met at the Yawning Portal and departed for the Dock Ward. At the Dock Ward, we encountered a crime scene with six dead bodies. I wonder if that's normal. Maybe it's part of that escalating violence that Volo mentioned.


We passed by the Old Xoblob Shop, a curiosity shop with a stuffed beholder in the window. That dew our attention so we stopped in for a look. Everything in the shop was purple. Everything. Quinn bought a purple key, though the proprietor didn't know what lock it belonged to. The eccentric proprietor kept asking if we wanted to try smoking a pipe, saying it would expand our minds. The room was filling with fumes, so we stepped back outside. I suppose we can head back there if we want to buy purple trinkets.


Around the corner from the Old Xoblob Shop was the Skewered Dragon. Quinn played cards (badly) with some locals. Probably a clever adventuring tactic to win them over. It worked! They provided some additional information related to Floon. Years ago, Dagult Neverember was the Open Lord of Waterdeep. He went off to rebuild the city of Neverwinter, and while he was gone, he was ousted from Waterdeep. Neverember’s son, Renaer, was here at the Skewered Dragon with Floon the other night. They were followed out by four men from the snake-tattoo faction (that we later discover is the Zhentarim). These members hang out at a warehouse on Candle Lane. The warehouse is marked with a snake symbol. Fun fact: Candle Lane is a dark street, but is continually lit by one flame that cannot be extinguished. Hence the name.


We found the warehouse marked with a snake symbol. After waiting for people to show up and knocking on the door with no reply, Quinn tried the key he just bought from the Old Xoblob Shop. I kid you not, it opened the door. Inside the warehouse were twelve dead bodies. The smell of death was horrible. Four hooded bird folk, known as kenku, appeared from behind crates and attacked us. A fight ensued and all but one kenku were killed. My fire bolt actually hit this time! Though, I’m not sure if fighting was necessary. Could we have talked it out, instead? Yasuo guarded the surviving kenku while Davian and I searched the warehouse. We found Floon’s friend, Renaer. He explained what happened, but I didn’t quite catch all of the details. He said a lot of “Z” and “X” words, and it was confusing to me. It’s frustrating to be missing pieces of information. I think he said that Floon was taken by five Zhentarim thugs who were heading north on Asper Street. I think there was some mistaken identity; that they thought Floon was Renaer. Zhentarim are the ones with the snake tattoos. So that means that the twelve dead men in the warehouse are Zhentarim.  They were looking for the Stone of Galorr and thought that Floon had the stone. But the stone is actually in the hands of the Xanathar Guild. I might have misheard that part. I’ll need to ask Renaer about that. Anyway, the twelve Zhentarim were killed by the kenku, who were talking about a “stash.” Renaer said that the kenku are with Xanathar. I don’t know what all of this means. But since they were talking about a “stash,” Davian and I kept searching the warehouse. Upstairs, we found a blank, magic piece of paper and a rope attached to a bell at the north wall. We heard the city guards coming and didn’t have time to investigate further. (We would return here after freeing Floon.) I took the piece of paper and grabbed a shortbow and quiver of arrows from among the dead. The kenku was parroting, “follow the yellow signs in the sewers” regarding where Floon was taken. So we headed to the nearby manhole rather than wait for Sergeant Staget of the city watch, and the guards to arrive. Who knows? Maybe they would have thrown us in jail or worse! I question the justice system here. Best to avoid getting entangled with the law.


Sewers are disgusting. The smell was horrendous. Let us never do that again. We navigated the labyrinth of sewer tunnels by following yellow chalk signs on the walls. The signs were a circle with ten spokes. Some spokes were smudged, like they were being used for navigation. All the while in the sewers, Yasuo was pushing our captive kenku along. The pitiful thing kept repeating, “run away home little boy, run away” or something like that. It clearly wanted us to let it go, and that clearly wasn’t happening. We encountered a grapefruit-sized sphere with four eyestalks guarding a ladder. The creature, a gazer, was kind of cute. In a commanding voice, Quinn told the tiny gazer that we were here to see Krentz. It stepped (floated) aside. Rather than heading up the ladder, we continued forward following the yellow chalk symbols. We came to an open chamber and heard snoring. Quinn and I snuck forward to check out the area. There were two sleeping goblin guards behind arrow slits in the wall. We each took a wall and attacked in unison. My ice knife spell worked! I missed the arrow slit, but the explosion killed the goblin. I struggle with the idea of killing a sleeping foe. I don’t know if that was the right thing to do. Quinn’s gobblin woke up, though, and shouted an alarm. I rushed over and killed it with a fire bolt. No other goblins showed up. There was a door in the center of this sewer chamber, so we entered it, assuming that this is where the yellow markings were leading.


The door took us out of the sewers, but still in an underground area. We came across a room and could hear people on the other side saying something about stuffing cloth under the door. Yasuo barged through the door to find that same Zhentarim, Krentz, who had fought Quinn and the orc at the Yawning Portal. There was also a dwarf, Zemk the Duergar. They were at the door on the other side of the room. Of course a battle ensued. Even though Zemk grew in size for the battle, we managed to defeat them with difficulty. I rushed over to the door and finished stuffing cloth under it. I could hear a hiss or something on the other side. I don’t know what they were trying to keep out, but we probably didn’t want it in the room, either.


In the next room we found Floon being pinned down by a half-orc wizard and a mind flayer with his pet (that I later discovered to be an intellect devourer...I think), looking on. I sent a fire bolt at the mind flayer, but that did absolutely nothing. He whispered something to the small brain with legs, and it came scurrying towards us. Meanwhile, the mind flayer walked out of the room, conversing with someone through an orb he was holding. All I could see in the orb was was a giant eye. We defeated the pet brain and the orc, freeing Floon. Floon is definitely a buffoon. He ignored the fact that the guys did all of the work defeating the orc, with me making little or no contribution, and instead was tripping over himself saying how he’s forever in my debt and so forth. Anyway, the defeated wizard had a spellbook which I excitedly took. I look forward to learning these new spells!


We exited the large room through a hatch in the ceiling. It led to a cellar in a family’s home (on Fishgut Alley, in the Dock Ward). They were alarmed and frightened to see us walk into their kitchen, but glad that we weren’t there to do them harm. We told them about the entrance and they were glad to hear of it so they could seal it up. They introduced themselves as the Peabodya. I think they are our new allies!

Quinn Alimer

Day 1

The day began without much fanfare. My fellow hammers and I woke early, conducted our morning prayers, ate breakfast and went about our duties for the day. While routine and at times monotonous, my tasks contribute to the greater good towards the temple. I thank Lord Lanset for that fateful night where he set me on this path and I thank Tempus. During afternoon cleaning, a scroll was delivered to me. My superior, Stalwart Freddert was put into a foul mood in discovering the scroll instructed me to meet Volothamp Geddarm at the Yawning Portal at the chime of eight bells. I couldn’t spare much thought as to his reaction to this news given the occupation of why anyone would make a request of me. However, I would not think to second guess
Rauthat Triston as his wisdom and experience as a swordmaster far exceeds my own.
I set out for the Yawning Portal, allowing enough time to navigate the busy streets. The nightlife at The Portal was in full swing when I entered. Immediately among the throngs of people my attention went to the arm wrestling going on next to the open portal to the Undermountain. There, Yagra Stonefist yelled over for me. I joined her and asked of her recent adventures and conquests. Before we could get into it, four members of the Xanathar gang filled the doorway, calling Yagra out to fight. Yagra stood tall and met the challenge head on. Tempus hates a coward and running from a fight where a friend is in need. Four on one hardly seemed fair so I joined the frey. Tempus also hates a fool. Growing up in Waterdeep, four new corpses would not be welcome regardless of status without a very good reason. A bar fight would not be sufficient reason so I kept my blows non-lethal. The four Xanathar thugs got the better of Yagra quickly and the flow was going to turn quickly unless I did something. With their attention diverted, I was able to deliver a knockout blow to one of the thugs while performing a battle heal on Yagra. Tempus was watching over me, guiding my hand and I felt empowered. The others noted my contribution to the fight and shifted to me. The next minute provided a quick exchange of misses on their part and solid hits on my part. The remaining thug retreated from The Portal with the usual threats bullies like to make.
I helped Yagra up and saw to her wounds, admonishing her for having such a quick temper. The evening’s excitement had just begun however. A shrill shriek was emitted from the hole on the main floor followed by the entrance of blood bats and a troll. The City Watch wouldn’t mind this corpse and might even wonder if one didn’t contribute to ending this threat. I launched myself into the path of the troll. Durnan the bartender jumped into the fight as did three others although I’d be slow to call it assistance. Durnan kept fumbling with his sword and one of the magic-users set the upper floor on fire after missing the troll. A foreign sword fighter stepped up, trying to land blows with his swords but to no avail. I struck the beast with my rapier and caught a quick series of flying magic arrows tracking down the bats out of the corner of my eye. That is where everything went dark for me as the last thing I recall is a huge clawed hand raking down the front of me.

I came to on the floor in the spot I fell. There was an aftertaste in my mouth that tasted of a healing potion. I’ve not had the need for one personally but was happy it was there. Falling to a troll was no way to leave this life to go meet Tempus. As I was helped to my feet by my allies in the fight, a clapping came from the doorway. A strangely dressed gentleman with a long, curled mustache was looking in. He quickly came over and introduced himself as Volothamp Geddarm.

We put a table back on its legs and grabbed chairs to sit around it. Yagra thanked me for jumping in and having her back. She gave me a coin with a snake on it and said if I was ever in need of her services, present the coin and she would return the favor. I thanked her and saw her out the door.

After rejoining the others, it was at this point I learned my scroll was not the only one. Each of the other three had also received an invitation for this meeting. Volothamp Geddarm jumped right in before any of us could get a word in. He explained he was looking for his nephew Floon Blagmar. After a visit to Floon’s domicile, Volothamp discovered he hadn’t been there for at least two days and was worried. Volothamp described Floon as a handsome man but not all that bright. A shady place called The Skewered Dragon was the last location he knew where Floon was seen. I knew of the place in the Dock Ward. Not a great place to be lost. Volothamp provided each of us with a down payment and offered ten times that upon the return of his nephew. Seeing as Rauthat Triston had put my name forward, I couldn’t disappoint him and Volothamp was clearly in need of help. I accepted the offer as did the other three.

After saying “yes” to Volothamp, the four of us who were invited got acquainted. I seemed to be the only one living in Waterdeep. The others came from far away lands and for various reasons. The human samurai was seeking to test himself and ultimately prove himself worthy of the honor of his people. The elven magic-user was quite interested in Volothamp and knowledge in general. There is certainly plenty to learn in the vast libraries of Waterdeep. The aasimar magic-user was an odd one, even for this city. He did shoot down all the bats in one go making him my kind of odd.

We retired for the evening where I returned to the temple. Stalwart Freddert met me upon my return and had a list of chores to be completed. I informed him of the night’s events and how my services had been requested and authorized. This fact didn’t sit well but there was nothing he could do. It was a late night for me completing the list but ultimately the deeds were done. I retired for the night.

Day 2

The next morning, after first light’s prayers I returned to the Yawning Portal. The other three from last night had returned and all were on time. I do appreciate punctuality. Seeing as I was the only Waterdeep citizen, I took the lead guiding us to The Skewered Dragon. We passed by a City Watch investigation which appeared to be the aftermath of a deadly altercation between rival gangs. The Watch wasn’t allowing for anyone to get too close. We altered our path and steered clear of it and moved on.

As we approached our destination, a peculiar shop stood out. The Old Xoblob Shop was one I had heard about and decided to pop on in. Immediately upon entrance to the shop, we were met by a purple cloud and an exotic, strange odor. The bald gnome shopkeeper welcomed us in as he sat and partook in his pipe, which was the origin of the strange, malodorous, purple cloud. My curiosity got the better of me as three items caught my attention. A strange key, a pipe and an old soldier’s insignia. The history of the insignia made my curious mind wander. I paid for the three items and stepped out before my head filled with the purple cloud. My companions followed.

We entered The Skewered Dragon to find the guests in various states of inebriation from the prior night. I spied a group of gamblers in the corner and decided to get in on a game. With any luck, I might be able to glean some information from them. I took the first hand but lost the second. My instincts told me they might be cheating but winning this game was not my purpose. I seized the opportunity to ask about Floon. The gamblers seemed quite talkative after their recent win. They told us of two finely dressed, drunk buffoons who had been there two nights ago. They stumbled out after an evening of drinking but were followed by four men with snake tattoos. With a bit of further probing, they said the second man was the son of Dagult Neverember, the previous Open Lord of Waterdeep.

That was an interesting fact and offered up a motive for their disappearance. The gamblers made mention of the similarity between the two. I thanked them for the game and joined my companions. We made way to Candle Lane, the street given by the gamblers. The street was eerily quiet and dark, save for one ever-light lantern. Making our way down the street, a gated warehouse came into view. It bore the snake mark. This seemed a good place to investigate.

The warehouse was devoid of any windows or indication of what might be going on inside. We approached a door and knocked. No answer. We went to the side of the warehouse and knocked on a second door. Nothing again. Not to by stymied, I tried the door only to find it locked. Figuring the need for answers outweighed the need for strict adherence to the law, I attempted to pick the lock. Unfortunately, something about the lock defeated my efforts. Thinking back to the shop, I gave my newly purchased key a try. Lo and behold the key opened it. Yasuo the Samurai opened the door and before anything else could occur, we were ambushed.


Four dark-cloaked figures with bows opened fire from behind some crates. I was a bit quicker than them and was able to scoot behind cover after shooting a Tempus guided bolt at the creature on the left flank.  It struck the creature but didn’t put it down. Figuring a corpse couldn’t provide any answers, I elected to try to keep one of them alive. I ran out in the midst of the fighting, closing the distance with the one I had hit. I cold-cocked the creature, laying it out. Yasuo was quite impressive in the skirmish. He took several hits which I’ve seen bring down the heartiest of fighters. After a deep breath, a second wind came to him and he charged forth once again. The fight came to a quick conclusion and my companions began searching the warehouse.

There were twelve bodies that had been jumped and killed here. I was about to question the creature I had kept alive when the pair of magic-users announced they had found a prisoner. A thin, definitely eccentric man came bouncing out from a closet under the stairs. We untied him. He thanked us deeply, informing us that he was Renaer Neverember. He and Floon had indeed been drinking at The Skewered Dragon. They left and were jumped by several thugs. The thugs drug them to the warehouse. After restraining the pair, the thugs resumed their activities in the warehouse after placing Renaer into the closet. Then, all of a sudden, the sounds of a fight broke out. After all the screaming and sounds of metal on metal died down, Ranaer heard several muffled voices.

I then turned to our captive. The creature was identified as a kenku; a strange intelligent bird-like creature that had no voice of its own but could imitate other sounds. We learned that they had ambushed the 12 in the warehouse and taken Floon, thinking Floon was Ranaer. They took him through the sewers using yellow chalk symbols as a navigation aid. “Follow the yellow signs in the sewers,” echoed the kenku.

The pair of magic-users, Thia and Davian, went through the warehouse looking for anything that might be of interest. They found a magic bit of parchment and nothing else of interest. I decided to check where the nearest sewer entrance was located by looking around outside. I spied the City Watch making their way towards us at a quick pace. Sticking around in a warehouse filled with corpses most likely wasn’t going to go well for us and at best, would result in us being detained for the day. Time was not on our side. I called for my companions to come along. Yasuo took the kenku by the scruff of the neck and exited the warehouse. I glanced over to Ranaer and asked if he would like to join our band. To his credit, he picked up a sword and a bow and came along. I could feel the approving smile of Tempus.
We quickly descended into the sewer system and not a moment too late. The City Watch surrounded the warehouse as we dropped the sewer lid back into place. The first chalk symbol appeared to us. We made our way through this labyrinth putting our faith in the marks being accurate. The kenku kept squeaking about wanting to run home. We needed him in case additional answers were needed. Our band stopped short upon entering one of the larger junctions. A gazer was floating in the area and was annoyed at our appearance. I decided to see if we could bluff our way past. I took up a harsh tone with it stating we were on our way to see Krentz, the leader of the ambush party. A long second passed and the gazer backed off. We quickly went into the next tunnel with the yellow mark and continued on our path.

An interesting intersection came into view. We slowed our pace and crept forward. There was the sound of snoring coming from ahead of our position. Thia and I, being more stealthy approached the sounds. There were a pair of arrow slit windows. Thia took one and I the other. Upon my approach, I stepped on a rat and let out a quick, involuntary yelp. It was enough of a noise to rouse one of the guards. Thia and I both leaped to action, casting our magics. Thia’s spell erupted just on the other side of the slit, shredding the guard. My spell did not have nearly the effect I had hoped. Cursing my inattention and carelessness at my attack, I ducked the guard’s counterattack. Thia came over and cast her own bolt taking down the guard but not before it shouted out an alarm. I quickly called upon my skill in thamaturgy to shout out in the guard’s tongue “We got them!” After a long moment pausing, nothing else happened.  We were in the clear thus far.

There was a small door near the slits. We entered and found ourselves on the other side. The guards were goblins. I’m happy to relieve the world of these vermin. Nothing good has come of them. We navigated our way through the hideout and came to another door. There were two voices coming from behind it. They seemed to be pre-occupied, arguing with one another. Taking this as a good sign, Yasuo kicked in the door and we charged in. The thug who had picked a fight with Yagra last night was here with a dwarf from The Undermountain. They were piling up furniture to barricade the opposite door. We sprung into action to take them down.

I dug deep inside and cast one of my more destructive spells at the brute who knocked down Yagra. Tempus heard my prayers and granted me a glorious hit, taking down the thug in a single blow. His companion wasn’t going to let that action go unanswered. He uttered a spell of his own, causing him to double in size. He came after me and while my offensive skills were sufficient, my defensive skills need work. The giant-sized dwarf took me out of the fight.


I came to with the now familiar after taste of a healing potion in my mouth. Don’t get me wrong. I am happy to still be drawing breath and be in service to Tempus. I’d like to be more effective in a fight however. I’ll continue to practice and hone my skills. As my head cleared and the world came into focus once again, my companions were eyeing the barricaded door. They reached a quick conclusion that whatever was on the other side should indeed stay on the other side.

We brushed ourselves off and continued our way through the hideout. After a few more turns we entered a large room. Roughly 50 feet inside the room we took note of an orc mage torturing what we presumed was Floon Blagmar. This was quickly confirmed when Ranaer shouted out his name in excitement. Our eyes were then drawn to the end of the room where a humanoid creature with a tentacled maw sat. It was petting a smaller creature that resembled a brain with legs and antennae.

Saving Floon was my first priority. I sprung into action advancing quickly into the room. I cast sacred flame on the orc, bringing the holy light of Tempus upon our foe. The orc winced but was not brought down. My companions became fixated on the creatures at the far end of the room which was completely understandable seeing the grotesqueness of them. The humanoid with the tentacles around its maw moved with purpose. My companions noted it siccing its brain pet upon us before leaving the room through some mystic portal. I’m thankful they dispatched the thing before it got close enough to engage. With our combined efforts, we brought down the orc mage with Ranaer delivering the finishing blow.


After tending to Floon and binding our wounds, we set upon exploring the room. Thankfully the evils within had been dispatched and fled. We had won the day. A hatch was discovered, which we elected to take. Thia was rather motivated as she did not care for the sewers in the least. I cannot say I blame her. With a few twists and turns we emerged in the kitchen of a halfling family. They were alarmed at our appearance. We managed to bring calm to the situation. Floon, being half starved helped himself to their food. The rest of us did what we could to seal the secret entrance to the hideout. We then set out to the Yawning Portal to deliver Floon back to Volothamp, feeling good about our victory.

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Dragon Heist





Yasuo Shimazu
Dewdrop let me cleanse
In your brief sweet waters
These dark hands of life.
- Matsuo Basho

Human Samurai from Kozakura

Miyamoto Musashi teaches us that the true Way of the Warrior is The Way of Walking Alone.  He tells us not to turn our backs on the ways of the world, but also that we should not engage its vices.  We should have no desire for possessions now or in old age, nor hope to own a home.  We should deeply contemplate the world but spend little thought on ourselves.  We should live a self-sufficient life free from desire.  Even the Gods are to be respected but not count on.  But above all, though you give up life do not give up honor.

The words of Musashi are law.  I know this.  I believe this.  My soul recognizes their undeniable truth.  But how do I follow them?

I am Shimazu Yasuo, the Eldest Son of Shimazu Tsunataka of the Kono Shidan, the Emperor's personal guard.  I am 17, and it is my destiny to serve The Chrysanthemum Throne.  I have spent my whole life training for it, from The Way of the Word to The Way of the Sword.  I have poured over the histories to better understand politics, I have studied the arts to better understand people.  I have learned the martial ways and tactics befitting a Samurai, and delved into the philosophies of the great teachers.

But I am untested.

I live a pampered life on the palace grounds, with every need met as befits a family of high status.  Everywhere I walk the Shimazu name precedes me, and I go unchallenged.  I am proud of my family name, of my father, and of my destiny.  My father wears our ancestral sword that will some day be mine.  I yearn for it.

My mother ensures that only the daughters of advantageous nobles are invited to sit with her, and often contrives to briefly require my attendance for some small thing.  I do not mind.  She will pick the best wife for me and ensure many children will carry on the family name and traditions, here in our ancestral home.  Life is good.

Why, then, am I unsatisfied?

For many days I sat beneath the great cedar tree overlooking a secluded pond, my favorite place for such contemplation, and considered why I was so restless. As time went by I found myself watching dragonflies skimming the water, occasionally dipping into it and causing little ripples to cascade across the water. The ripples were beautiful and hypnotic and I could not take my eyes from them.  Their unrelenting fluidity brought to mind the movements of master swordsmen, and I wondered if this is what Murasama saw when he was writing The Book of Five Rings.

The Book of Five Rings is a definitive text for Samurai, and is required reading.  It is a relatively short book, but one could study it for a lifetime and never fully understand all of its secrets.  Such was the genius of Murasama, the greatest swordsman to have ever lived.

I began to repeat Murasama's wisdom out loud, and the words traveled across the pond and echoed back to me, and I listened.  There is something about the sound a word makes that transcends its written form, and I began to hear them as if for the first time.  And I finally understood.

The Way of Walking Alone is not some esoteric riddle to be solved, it is a literal and unforgiving way of life.  You cannot truly understand it or benefit from it without giving into it completely.  I felt restless because my warrior's soul was rebelling against the life I have lead, and the mockery I was making of Murasama's instruction.

I sat there a while longer putting my thoughts in order and deciding the best way to correct my wrongful thinking, and to atone for my sins.  I then went home to begin the readjustment.  I spent the rest of that day and most of the next preparing myself, and then settled in to wait for my father.

When he got home he was surprised to find the outward transformation.  Gone from me were the embellishments of palace life, with only the minimum required of my station remaining.  I humbly explained that I was on a new path, one that I hoped would lead me to better understand the great teachings, that I had to do this to understand my proper place and to be worthy of him and of the Chrysanthemum Throne.

My father listened quietly, without expression, as I explained all of the things I had done and believed that I now knew were wrong, including coveting our family sword.  I left nothing out.

On and on I spoke, with the compassion and conviction of the reborn, and still my father remained as a statue.  When I finally had said all that I had to say, and had given plans and reasons, he smiled and said that he had been waiting a long time for this and had almost given up hope.  He explained that all of the pomp and ceremony, all of the embellishments, even the ancestral sword meant nothing to him but were required by his position.  He had been worried that this had set a bad example for me, and indeed it had, but now I saw my error.

"If you really want to follow The Way", he said, "you must first learn to be self-reliant.  You cannot do this at home.  You cannot do this anywhere the Shimazu name will be recognized, and our name shouts from the very heavens.  You will have to go far.  I will make arrangements for you to accompany a diplomatic mission that will soon leave for Waterdeep.  You should prepare yourself accordingly."

So here I sit watching the waves, listening to the sounds of the ship as everything I have ever known slides over the horizon.

Turbulent waters
Waves relentlessly pass
Carry my thoughts home
- Shimazu Yasuo

Davian Targana

Aasimar Sorcerer from the Shadowfell

Anlow and Rosalyn Targana were adventurers with the guild Protectors of the Faithful.  A small group, they roamed the land righting wrongs and doing their best to protect the downtrodden.  Anlow was a fighter, Rosalyn the cleric.  Normally they played defense, but often they arrived too late to prevent needless deaths.  Eventually the wizard of the group, Fenton Graylock, decided they should instead venture into the Shadowfell and take on the particular menace before it could venture above ground again.  Fenton had noticed it was the same evil entity, Corynax, that was directing the foot soldiers on their trips above ground.  

So it was that the Protectors of the Faithful ventured into the Shadowfell for what would be their last trip.  Rosalyn was 7 months pregnant at this point, but no matter what Anlow said, how much he pleaded for her to stay behind, she would do no such thing.  After several days in the Shadowfell, they had found their way to Corynax's lair.  Fierce fighting ensued, but the enemy was too strong and plentiful for the Protectors to overcome.  The rest of the party were slaughtered leaving only Anlow and Rosalyn, but soon Rosalyn was struck down by Corynax himself.  As she fell, Corynax reached a dark tendril into the fetus, planting the seed of evil deep within.  As emotions overcame Anlow, he nearly made a fatal move toward Corynax, but was stopped by a blindingly bright light that pierced the Shadowfell and the angel Mykiel descended, standing over the corpse of the cleric.  

As the sound of hissing and snarls surrounded them, Mykiel took out a dagger made of pure light and pierced the belly of Rosalyn.  He reached in, extracting the baby and wrapping it in a cloth, then handed it to Anlow.  Once this was done, Mykiel pulled the baby, Anlow and the corpse of Rosalyn out of the Shadowfell and back to the surface world.  Anlow didn't see Mykiel leave, but he also had a dead wife and a newborn, oddly healthy baby boy to contend with.  Anlow made camp, put his son Davian down to sleep, and buried his wife.  With this done, he studied his son and realized that he must be an Aasimar, and as such, would not be safe around others.  He hadn't seen an Aasimar before, but he knew the legends and what a baby should look like, and considering the way Davian was born, being an Aasimar made sense.  Over time he also noticed that Davian would go for days without blinking, which further cemented the feeling.

For the next year, food a baby could consume seemed to arrive in their campsite with regularity.  At the time that Davian could handle solid food, the deliveries came to a halt.  Anlow felt this must be due to the angel, but he never saw the delivery occur, even when he stayed up late with the hope of catching sight of it happening.  For the next 5 years Anlow would watch over his son at night and during the day hunt for their next meal.  He then started teaching Davian how to set simple snares, and Davian developed quite the knack for catching smaller wildlife.

In the evenings, Anlow would regale Davian with tales of his adventuring days, but discussing Rosalyn was always difficult.  Still, he wanted his son to know how brave and strong his mother was, so many of the stories featured her prominently.

As Mykiel had hoped, Anlow did his best to guide Davian down the path of good, teaching him morals and compassion.  He also did his best to prevent Davian from approaching travellers, as Anlow couldn't take the chance that they might bring harm to Davian.  He knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn't shake the fear that something bad would happen to Davian.

Around the time that Davian was 15, they were moving camp to a new location and stumbled upon a dead adventuring party.  Davian, always the curious one, picked up a wand from one of the piles of bones.  Suddenly the area around him turned into darkness; after a few moments light returned and Anlow could see pools of black in his eyes.  Though he was concerned and wanted to run, Anlow had a strong parental urge to rush to forward, but as he tried to move, Davian locked eyes with him and suddenly he was unable to move forward, and a horrible stench of rotten eggs surrounded him.  As Anlow slowly pushed forward, a beam of light, similar to what he saw in the Shadowfell, struck the area around Davian and a winged man decended.  As he landed, his hand settled on Davian's head, and he crumpled into a heap at the feet of the angel.  Anlow tumbled forward and rushed to his now limp son.  A voice appeared in his head, without the angel moving his mouth; the voice said "He has discovered his powers.  They are tainted by the Shadowfell.  He can be a powerful force for good, but he must be guided.  I will continue watching, but you must be there for him, continue showing him that good trumps evil."  With that, he ascended once again.  After some time, Davian returned.  Anlow never explained what happened for fear that it might make him look to the evil that lie within.

Over the next ten years, they continued moving around as they had over the previous years.  One day, they were moving camp into an area they hadn't been to before.  Davian was practicing a new spell that came to mind, and just as his father was beginning to tell him to be careful, Anlow dropped out of sight.  As Davian rushed to the pit, he found his father impaled on sharpened sticks.  No matter what Davian tried, he could not reach his father in time.  He strung a rope around a nearby tree and quickly lowered himself into the pit, just in time to hear his father's dying words "Make your mother proud, stay on the path of the light".  Darkness crept in, and he glimpsed a being in his peripheral vision.  He could hear a sinister voice say "Doooon't worrrrry Daaaavian, Iiiii'll stilllll be heeeeere, Iiiii'll beee heeeere untilllll the ennnnnnd".  While it made his skin crawl, it was oddly comforting during this time.  The light quickly returned, and after grieving for a moment he composed himself and worked to bring his father to the surface.

After burying his father and spending several days feeling lost, Davian decided to seek out the Protectors of the Faithful.  He wasn't sure if they were even still a group, but he was clinging to the one thing he had remaining and he wanted to do his best to fulfill his father's dying words.  In his father's stories, he knew that they had at one time resided in Waterdeep, so he started travelling.


Thia Liadon

Elven Wizard from Candlekeep

Thia Liadon was born into a distinguished family, one of both money and prestige. 

Theren, her father, lived a childhood deprived of most things that others took for granted.  Food was scarce, and toys were sticks and rocks.  However, Theren loved to devour books, anything he could get his hands on, and as such he became the best student in school.  Word spread, and soon the university reached out to him, extending an offer that included tuition, supplies, room and board.  The offer hadn’t even been fully uttered before Theren jumped in with “I accept”.  While at the university, he further impressed those in charge, and upon graduation he was given the chance to teach.  He excelled at this, with the students attending his classes far exceeding the abilities of those in other classes.  A few years before Thia’s birth, her father was granted the title and office of High Mage.  In the course of his duties, a member of the Emerald Enclave came to town, bearing a particularly old tome of lore.  He had long been interested in such tomes, and so he met her personally to help with the translation.  This meeting would lead to other meetings, to courtship, and finally to marriage and children.

Thia’s mother, Ielenia, led an interesting life before this fateful encounter.  The daughter of an Emerald Enclave member, she lived her life in preparation to fight at her father’s side.  Every spare moment of her childhood was devoted to training, and after a decade of this she was given a chance to go with some members of the Enclave on a quest to retrieve an item of power.  She excelled, as everyone had expected she would, and even distinguished herself while in the heat of combat.  After five more years of adventuring, she was finally ready to go on the most important missions.  A further two years passed when a group she was with came upon a set of books, one of which no one in the Enclave could read.  Sensing great power within this tome, she set out to the nearby city of Candlekeep and the school of magic therein.  She left with a translation, and a request by the translator to see her again.  Something about him left her wanting to learn more, and spend more time with him, so she returned, as she would multiple times in the coming months.

Initially, this union of high elf (father) and wood elf (mother) was viewed negatively by a segment of the community.  However, between the station that Theren held and the respect that the citizens had for the Emerald Enclave, those who were skeptical and opposed to it softened over time, and all was eventually forgotten.

As much as Ielenia loved the adventuring life, she also felt the tug of motherhood.  After marriage but before children arrived, Ielenia would continue adventuring.  While Theren was opposed to it at some level, he also smiled at the thought of his beloved chopping her way through dungeons, conquering foes he had only read about.  However, once the first child was born, Ielenia left that life behind. She still felt the tug, but she often felt the literal tug of her children and thought she might be able to instill that same sense of adventure in them.  In Thia, it seemed that she had.

Thia grew up listening to stories her mother would tell, and occasionally glimpse her father smiling at these stories.  She loved the idea of walking in her mother’s shoes, but she also had a very studious side, which her father tried to foster.  So it was that she studied during the day and went on “adventures” until dark.  While this sometimes presented issues for her parents, they loved seeing Thia grow to embrace both of their personalities.

Continuing in her father’s footsteps, she enrolled in the University.  Thia thrived in this environment, yet she also had a constant struggle in that she wanted to take every class and read every book in the library.  This was fueled both by her curiosity and by the stories her mother told.  She knew that the monsters her mother described in her fun adventure stories were a persistent threat, and as she grew older she become more intent on using the knowledge and skills she was learning to protect her family and her people.

Midway through her time at the University, her encyclopedic knowledge of the books in the library helped her secure a position as a librarian.  While not as impressive as the nearby Candlekeep Library, the University library was still an impressive collection of tomes.  Thia was practically doing backflips as she got the news, she would now have complete access to the library, and she took advantage of this in the years that followed.

Toward the end of her time at the University, her father came to her with a task.  Thia was the best scribe in the university due to her work in the library and her drive to excel in her classes, and he felt that this task was worthy of her burgeoning talents.  Word reached Theren that the legendary scholar Volo Geddarm was in Waterdeep working on a new tome, and he wanted to acquire a copy of it.  Suddenly the thirst for adventure came rushing back after having been suppressed for several years, so Thia lept at the chance without a moment’s hesitation.  A few days later, she was on her way to Waterdeep.

Quinn Alimar

Half-Elven Cleric of Tempus from Waterdeep


To tell the origin of young Quinn Alimar is to begin at sea where a half-elven maiden met a half-elven man on a voyage to Waterdeep. Both had procured passage on board the Quadrille to seek their fortunes. The ship was small. The voyage, thankfully tedious, provided ample opportunity for the pair to acquaint themselves with one another.

A few days prior to docking in Waterdeep, Corila Irolynn and Vicyeras Alimar united their hands in marriage. The captain of the Quadrille performed the ceremony with the crew as witnesses to the union. The atmosphere became festive as the crew celebrated the new couple. After a modest feast the two immediately began their honeymoon in Vicyeras’ cabin.

The Quadrille docked in Waterdeep a few days later where the new couple disembarked and started looking for opportunities. Vicyeras was a skilled craftsman and Corila had a penchant towards writing. Corila was first to find a position. The job was within the Castle Ward as a scribe for the courts in the Halls of Justice. She kept documentation of the legal proceedings regarding property ownership in Waterdeep. Corila’s income, along with the modest sum of money they arrived with allowed them to rent out a section of a nearby home.

A strange event occurred months after the beginning of Corila’s new job. During a break, Corila discovered a note and a small bag of gems in her coat pocket. She had recalled a stranger bumping into her on the steps in front of the Halls of Justice. The note contained instructions to forge a set of documents indicating ownership of a currently abandoned warehouse on the docks should be Ironpaw. The note ended with the mention that failure to comply would not be wise.

Corila went home that night and shared the event with Vicyeras. They both decided going down this path would only lead to trouble. Corila and Vicyeras concluded going to a judge within the Halls of Justice is the only way. That is what Corila attempted to do the next day. She arrived an hour earlier in an attempt to locate a justice only to be turned away by the bureaucracy. Determined to do the right thing, Corila stayed late after her shift to locate any justice who would hear her tale. The fates seemed against her as no one would grant access.

Stymied, Corila went home. Upon entering their home, she could not find Vicyeras. Looking around, she spied a plate that appeared out of place on the table. Another note was placed under the misplaced plate. The note stated plainly to forge the set of documents or Vicyeras would never be heard from again. Any attempt to bring this to the attention of any policing bodies would result in Vicyeras’ unpleasant demise.

Being relatively new to Waterdeep, Corila had no real choice in the matter. The next day, after a sleepless night spent forging the ownership papers, she reported to work. Corila gained access to the immense records hall with the forged documents held close under her clothing. Seeing her opportunity, Corila slipped the papers in among the other deeds of ownership. She quickly exited the records section with her heart beating hard, loud enough to nearly deafen her. Upon returning to her desk, she sat and blankly stared into space as the realization of what had occurred sunk in.
Seemingly moments later, a Magister was looking down at Corila. The Magister did not waste any time and outright accused Corila of forging the documents and placing them within the Hall of Records. Corila couldn’t utter a sentence and merely emptied her pockets, showing the Magister the two notes. Each of the notes were examined by the Magister. He looked back to Corila and asked what kind of proof was offered by blank bits of parchment. Corila could only stammer, dumbfounded that the only proof of her being blackmailed was nothing more than scratch paper.

The Magister tried Corila on the spot and sentenced her to six months in prison. She was taken away immediately in shackles and tears. During the period of carrying out her sentence, Corila became aware of the baby she was carrying. This one small bit of happiness provided her the strength to endure her sentence. After what seemed an eternity, Corila was released.
She immediately headed back to her home, only to find it rented out to another family. The property owner claiming he had no idea what had become of the Alimars and after three months, had to offer the rooms to another family. He’d not heard or seen Vicyeras in the six months passing. He gave back Corila her few possessions and told her to move on.

Corila was accepted as a lowly servant to The Portly Baron, one of the lesser inns in the Northern Ward. The work was hard, made harder while carrying a child. When Corila felt the birth of her child was imminent, she made way to the local clerics of Sylvanus. Shortly after her arrival at the temple, she gave birth to Quinn. The clerics allowed Corila to stay until her strength had returned.
Given the lack of options, Corila returned to the The Portly Baron to continue working. The inn keeper begrudgingly allowed her back and to care for Quinn. Life was difficult bringing up a child while continuously keeping the inn clean. When old enough, Quinn began to help out. He was willing to help his mom, especially upon discovering the mouthfuls of food that could be snuck here and there. Growing up in the inn was a constant balancing act of performing chores and sneaking enough food for him and his mom to eat.

Quinn’s chore list became longer and longer as he grew up. The work was hard and the boss unappreciative. Quinn took note of every put-down against his mom and took vengeance through acts ranging from small bit of vandalism to outright thievery. His rebellious acts did not go unnoticed however.

Quinn was at work, seeing to the drinks for the patrons one busy night. He ducked and weaved through the inebriated throngs, barely missing steins, elbows and boots. Steins filled to the brim were delivered to the tables with nary a spilled drop. In the midst of the festive atmosphere, the better bits of food and a few coins were liberated from the clientele. In particular, an attractive scroll case found its way into Quinn’s hands. The night continued well into the rising dawn.
After a few winks of sleep, Quinn woke and took stock of the night’s haul. The scroll case was the most interesting item in the small pile of treasures. Opening it up revealed floor plans for the mansion of a nearby lord. The detail was complete, down to every last square foot. Everything a builder, or an aspiring thief would need to know.

Little did Quinn realize the opening of the scroll case set a series of events in motion. The case was planted to be snatched up. The opening caused a wizard mark to be cast onto Quinn albeit unknown to him at the time. This event allowed the one who planted the case to be snatched to be notified when it was indeed opened.

That afternoon, Quinn stepped out back to take out the trash. An elf dressed in dark hooded robes was in the alleyway and approached Quinn. The elf introduced herself as Keely the Smile. Upon the introduction, the elf bowed low allowing only her broad grin to be seen from under her hood. Quinn took a step back, instantly nervous at the stranger’s appearance. Keely made a quick motion and uttered a strange verbalization. The image of a smile began to glow on the back of Quinn’s right hand. Keely the Smile talked about the scroll case and how she had arranged for it to find its way into Quinn’s possession. She persuaded him to join her and her band of thieves that night or face the City Watch. Once again, an Alimar was being blackmailed.

Quinn made arrangements to get away from the inn on the pretense of running a message for one of the patrons. With some clever persuasion the inn keeper reluctantly agreed to allow for Quinn to leave. Quinn raced out to the pre-arranged meeting spot. While en route, he became nervous about the ordeal. Should something happen to him, his mother would be crushed given Quinn hadn’t said anything to her about this scheme. He was too worried of what his mother would think of him as the thought of disappointing her was too much to even contemplate. It wasn’t an option. She couldn’t find out.

The shady corner in the back of a non-descript alley was the gathering point for the crew. Quinn entered the alley, cautiously making his way to the end. Two dark elves were already occupying the back corner. As Quinn approached them, an audible sneer was uttered by one of the pair. The unmistakable sound of a weapon being unsheathed reached Quinn’s ears, barely registering above his own heart pounding away. Before any had a chance to take this potential encounter any further, The Smile dropped down from the rooftop. A quick hiss towards the pair froze the duo. With a quick whisper in a strange tongue, the situation was defused. The Smile rose up and motioned for Quinn to join them. Quinn did so, figuring there was no backing out at this point.

After procuring the map back from Quinn, The Smile quickly went over the plan to rob the mansion. The duo would create a distraction at the front of the house, diverting attention away from the rear. There, The Smile and Quinn would enter the home through a second story window made accessible by a large tree growing on the grounds. They would quickly make their way down the hall to the vault at the end of the hallway. There was a small access point to the vault which would be hidden in the room according to the plans. Quinn was small enough to enter the access tunnel and open the vault. After that, take the most valuable treasures, close the vault and exfiltrate out the same window they entered.

The crew set out to begin the job without a sound. They moved swiftly along the streets, careful not to stray into the light any more than necessary. Quinn jogged along to keep up, stepping where the others stepped, moving like they moved. The mansion came into view. The Smile and Quinn split off from the pair of dark elves and approached the rear entrance. There were two guards on patrol, each walking the grounds in a lazy sort of way. A large crash was heard from around the front. The diversion had begun. The guards snapped to and gave each other a quick glance. One dashed around to the front while the other took up a central position near the house. The Smile uttered to Quinn “Go up to the gate and pretend you are lost.”

Quinn hesitated for a moment. The hesitation ended upon a sharp look from The Smile. Quinn walked up to the back gate and began softly sobbing. The guard, hearing Quinn’s cries approached the back gate. “What’s up with you boy?” the guard inquired. Before Quinn could come up with any kind of lie, a blade appeared at the guard’s throat and quickly drew across it. A red mist painted the darkness briefly. The guard, completely caught by surprise slumped without a sound. The Smile drug the body into the hedges and opened the back gate. Quinn caught a look of sheer delight on The Smile’s face when a lantern lit her face momentarily.

The pair approached the tree to access the second story window. They quickly made their way up without so much as a crinkle of a leaf or snap of a branch. Two quick leaps and they were inside the manor. The plans appeared to be completely accurate. They strode silently down the hall to the vault room. The Smile stopped by the door and pointed out the secret access point to the vault. Quinn quickly made his way across the room to the lower section of the wall to the left of the vault door. Sure enough, the small door swung open upon clicking a small imperfection in the baseboard. Quinn got on all fours and crawled inside.

Once inside, the back door swung shut quickly. He pressed against the door only to discover it wouldn’t open. Glancing around in a panic, Quinn saw another door in front of him with a strange set of symbols on it. He had no idea how to read them or what they could possibly mean. He ran his hand along them and found they lit up when contacted. This brief moment of amusement came to an abrupt halt when the sound of pounding boots came into the main vault room. Quinn heard a muffled discussion taking place. He frantically hit all the symbols in a random order hoping it would get him further away. A loud wail began emanating from the panel as the floor gave way to a chute. Quinn slid down into a cell. A fast look around told Quinn that he was trapped. His heart sank, wondering what his mother would think when he didn’t return or worse, if she found out he had tried to rob this manor.

Quinn buried his head in shame as the weight of the situation bore down on him. Eventually, sounds of men descending the stairs echoed into the cell. The door to the cell area flung open. A guard and a man dressed in fine robes entered. The guard looked down upon Quinn in contempt. “We ought to string him up in front of the house as a warning to other thieves,” said the guard. “He slit Gil’s throat.”

“Nonsense,” said the finely dressed man. “Look at him. He’s merely a child who made a mistake. I would guess he was charmed or coerced into this.”

The guard looked in and begrudgingly agreed. “I suppose there is no blood anywhere on him, not to mention he would have needed a ladder. Still he is guilty of attempted robbery. I’ll inform the City Watch to come…”

“Hold there,” the well dressed man interjected. “I’d like to chat with our young robber here. Please leave us for now. I’ll call for you if I need you.”
The guard shook his head slightly but did not utter any objections. He left Quinn and the finely dressed man to their talk.

“I am Godfrey Lanset, lord of this manor,” said the finely dressed man. “Please tell me how it is you came to be in my trap.”

Quinn looked up at the man, seeing him for the first time. A kindly and well-groomed bearded face appeared through his fingers. Quinn broke down immediately, telling the tale of the events of the night so quickly he scarcely took any breaths. Lord Lanset called up for the butler to bring down some tea. Five minutes later, a well-dressed figure appeared with a tea set. Two cups were poured. Lord Lanset dismissed the butler and offered one of the cups to Quinn. Quinn cautiously reached out and took in the cup, holding the warm vessel close.

“Now, let’s hear that tale again at half speed,” smiled Lord Lanset.

Quinn took a sip of the tea, secretly delighting in its flavor. He did tell Lord Lanset once again, the full details of the night, leaving nothing out. Lord Lanset nodded along, taking in all the points of the story. Once the events were all told and understood, Lord Lanset became serious in his demeanor.
“Young Quinn, I want you to listen to me as I have to you,” said Lord Lanset. “This path you are on is one with nothing but dead ends. Looking at you, I see a great potential within you and that would be a shame to waste. I have an offer I’d like for you to entertain.”

Quinn perked up, not believing his own senses.

“I see I do have your attention,” said Lord Lanset. “Good. I propose the following. You go with me to the Temple of Tempus, the god of war. Not just wholesale slaughter mind you. War has to have rules and guidelines or civilization would break down.”

Quinn continued to listen intently, holding onto the teacup the entire time.

“There you will learn discipline and be given a purpose in life,” said Lord Lanset. “I will sponsor you in entrance to the ranks of the Hammers of Tempus. You will work and study in an effort to make the world a safer and better place. Do this and we will be even.”

Quinn swallowed hard, realizing the option laid in front of him might provide a way to a more fulfilling life, both for he and his mother. This also would keep him out of jail which would destroy his mother. Realizing this was not only the best option but an amazing opportunity, Quinn accepted the offer. Lord Lanset smiled and rose up. He reached for the key to the cell and paused briefly.

“I will be checking in on you, either directly or indirectly and will hear of any misdeeds,” said Lord Lanset solemnly. “I need your word as a man that you swear to an honorable path.”

Quinn took in the words. Lord Lanset offered his hand. Quinn took a deep breath and shook Lord Lanset’s hand.

“Your new life will begin immediately,” announced Lord Lanset. 





Sunday, November 26, 2017

It Begins


Amon’Kel, servant of Amon’Zhakar

Amon’Kel.  The name rings odd in my ears, for it is not my hatch-name.  Yet, for all its strangeness, it is the name by which this new world will know me.  It is the will of Amon’Zhakar, He Who Burns, that I take this name and by this name his enemies will know their doom.

My brood-mates chittered nervously as we entered the sacred chamber.  The ancient blade had been placed upon the sacred stone alter for the ceremony, it’s black blade gleamed like a sliver of the night sky in the flickering torchlight.  We fell to our knees in a ring around the dais, our hoods pulled low over our brows.  The Brood-Master intoned the words of the ceremony, just as it had been done for generations and we waited, as every Brood had waited, for nothing.  Nothing had happened in these ceremonies for a very long time, since the death of Amon’Tzarka, last of the Chosen.

The Brood-Master’s chanting stopped and those around me started to rise.  I could not.  My limbs felt heavy, a red haze dimmed my vision.  I heard a gasp, it might have been the Brood-Master, I cannot tell, and my skin started to burn.  My brood-mates scrambled away from me with cries of surprise and fear.  I rose shakily to my feet and observed reddish-purple flames dancing along my arms, over my chest, and down my legs.  A voice, like a hoarse whisper, filled my ears.   It spoke a twisted, tortured language that I, somehow, understood.  I knew it was the voice of the long-dead Dragon, Amon’Zhakar, bound to the black blade and I knew that I was his Chosen.

Though I cannot bear the blade, no living being could, its power is still mine.  As long as I serve the will of Amon’Zhakar, I will have access to that power.  Now, the first of my people in many hatchings, I go forth into the world of men and elves to reclaim that which we lost.  My people will return to prominence and reclaim our power in this world as we had eons ago, when the skies were ruled by our progenitors.
 
The people of the flame shall rise again….

Amon'Kel
Male Dragonborn Warlock 1
Medium humanoid, lawful evil
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Armor Class 18 (scale mail, shield)
Hit Points 12 (1d8+4)
Speed 30 ft.
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STR 13 (+1), DEX 14 (+2), CON 18 (+4), INT 8 (-1), WIS 14 (+2), CHA 16 (+3)
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Saving Throws Wis +4, Cha +5
Skills Insight +4, Intimidation +5, Investigation +1, Perception +4
Damage Resistances fire
Senses passive Perception 14
Languages Common, Draconic, Goblin

Actions
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Longsword. Melee Weapon Attack: +5 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target.
Hit: 1d8+3 slashing damage or 1d10+3 slashing damage if used with two hands to make a melee attack.

Unarmed Strike. Melee Weapon Attack: +3 to hit, reach 5 ft., one creature.
Hit: 2 bludgeoning damage.

Equipment Longsword, scale mail, shield, backpack, component pouch, crowbar, hammer, piton (10), rations (10), rope, hempen (50 feet), tinderbox, torch (10), waterskin


The Party


Theolaerynn Liwanu, High Elf Rogue

The first five years of Theolaeryn's young life went as would be expected for any High Elf child born of prominent figures in a larger Elvish city.  While his mother was a healer, his father was a Wizard and expected Theolaerynn to follow in his footsteps.

On his 5th birthday Theo learned his first cantrip, Ray of Frost, and was incredibly proud of himself.  His mother's smile was a ray of light, but his father seemed only slightly less aloof than he ever was, making the moment bittersweet.

Such things are short lived in the eyes of a five year old, however, and it wasn't long before most of the hurt was forgotten and he once again found joy in each and every moment.

Later that year his mother was called upon to assess a previously unknown illness that was found not to be contagious, but did seem to have an arcane element to it.  It was thought that if she and her husband looked at it together that they might make more sense out of it.  Because the illness only seemed to inflict a very rural village, and because she didn't know how long this would take, she chose to bring Theo as well.  It would be good to expose him to rural life, to expose him to a way of life he as yet had no concept of.

Soon Theo found himself in the family carriage, laying in a pool of sunlight, gently rocked to sleep by the sway and dip of the carriage as it traveled over the rural roads, and by the gentle sound of his mothers voice as she talked with his father.

His memory of the days that followed has always eluded his grasp, tantalizing and teasing like the morning mist on a lake as the wind chases it first one way and then another.  What he does recall he wishes that he wouldn't.  The sightless eyes of his mother, the arrow protruding from her throat, and later the feelings of thirst, hunger and fear.  The last of the frugal memories from that time is the sound of a soothing voice, a shocked laugh, and darkness.

When he awoke from that darkness he was in an unfamiliar cottage, in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped in unfamiliar smells and sounds.  An early-middle-aged man sat at a well worn but rustic table, pouring over a sheaf of documents.  Human eyes looked up and Theo could feel himself being carefully measured and weighed.

John Cobbler.  The name still brought mixed emotions.  The joy of a life well-lead, and the sorrow of the brief lives of mortal men.  Theo was forty five when John joined his ancestors at 70, in the comfort of his own bed in that same cottage.

In that 40 years John had taught Theo all of the important things fathers taught their sons, like honor and duty and the worth of family.  He also gave Theo his surname, Liwanu, which means Growl of the Bear.  He gave Theo that name, he said, because when he found him in the wreckage of the carriage and its escorts, standing over the days-old corpse of his mother, he used the last of his remaining strength to scream savage defiance as John approached.  And then he passed out and did not awake again until he was back at Johns cottage.

John was an Investigator, sharp and observant, and was often called on to look into some of the harder to solve crimes in the rural area where they lived.  Not the high crimes of the city, but crimes none the less.  He taught Theo everything he knew, starting that very day that Theo first woke in his cottage, setting out to find out what happened to his parents.  A task that would take several years, even though it ended up to be one of the simplest and oldest of motives:  Greed.  One of his fathers rivals had him assassinated, something made easier by that fact that this wasn't something that was typically done in the High Elf city.  They were above that sort of thing, or so they thought.

The High Elf that had sanctioned Theolaerynn's father had a lot of power and was thus not sentenced to the death he deserved, but was rather 'retired' to the country, where he would live for a while in luxurious boredom until people forgot about the incident.

Theo was enraged!  It took John a long time to convince him that anger was a useless emotion, and that all it did was make people do stupid things like seek vengeance.  Vengeance, he said, was for the weak and undisciplined, and it did as much if not more harm to the person seeking it than it did to the person it was delivered upon.

That was Johns first real lesson for Theo, and it was a very difficult one to understand.  But with time he did understand, and was able to let the anger go.

When he finally found the peace that comes from letting vengeance go, John taught him his second profound lesson by throwing a head at his feet.  Looking down at the face of his fathers murderer he came to understand Justice.

John's passing was very painful for Theo and he began to wander the world, paying his way as an investigator, staying for a few years here, and a few years there.  Brief moments in the life of an Elf.  Time spent in search of himself.

But now that he is an adult, older and wiser, he feels the need to do something more.  What that is he is not yet sure of, but he knows he will recognize it when he finds it.

Alston Nim, Rock Gnome Wizard 

Alston Nim was always a bright and curious child who loved to explore.  This got him into trouble on more than one occasion, usually resulting in a lecture from him mother and a stern look from his father.  He couldn't help himself, there was just so much to see and so little time.  He also never felt like he got into too much trouble, that was until the falling out.  He was rummaging around his neighbor's garden, playing and eating some vegetables (she always shared with his family, so why did it matter if he took some now).  The next thing he knows, his mother is there pulling him out and participating in a yelling match with the neighbor lady.  He remembers others looking on, his father showing up, and a few days later they were leaving the clan.  Alston felt ashamed of this for a very long time, not realizing until years later that this was the final straw in a brewing feud that went back years.  His parents never spoke of the true reason for the feud, just that it wasn't really Alton's fault.  At the time all he knew was that it was his fault, and he would never see his friends again.

The Nim family found themselves a new home many weeks travel from where they had previously lived, settling in a small cave complex that was large enough for their family, with room to spare.  He remembers his parents stating that this was a fresh start in a place where they could grow their family beyond just Alston.  This excited Alston, the thought of a sibling, and he decided it was up to him to prepare for what must be the imminent arrival of a little brother.  He was allowed to roam the surrounding area after what seemed like an eternity of being stuck in the cave, looking at the same old rocks.  He felt like he could live again, with so much area to explore it was an exciting time.  It was imperitive that he find areas to explore with his new brother, though curiosity always drove him to fully explore these new areas alone.

One day he was following the rock face of his home, and he ventured a bit further than his mother allowed.  The whole area was overtaken with vines and bushy plants, but behind this he discovered a tiny opening about his size.  Crawling inside, he discovered bones that belonged to some bipedal creature, a long stick, a book, and some rock with symbols carved on them.  The bones initially made him recoil in fear, but his curiosity again took over and he got closer.  One hand was grasping the stick, and both hands were extended toward the opening.  The pages were almost completely disentigrated, but he could make out what seemed like words in a language he had never seen before.  He had learned to read a few years before, so this new language intrigued him.  The same letters or symbols appeared on the stone, but he wasn't sure what it was.  The dark didn't help, so he thought a fire would help.  He had watched his mom do this for many years, and during the recent excursions he got bold enough to borrow the thing used for lighting fires and wanted to experiment with it.  After lighting a fire he found that he still couldn't read the letters on the stone, even holding it up close to the light.  That's when he realized how close he actually was, but the fire didn't hurt.  That is, it didn't hurt until he dropped the stone, then the pain was immediate.  He tried to grab the stone and back away at the same time, but the moment he touched the stone he realized that he no longer felt the heat, only the pain from the burn remained and that was even minimized.

Over the next few months he would take more excursions to the cave to study his finding even more.  It was always frustrating as he didn't have enough info to learn this new language.  It was on one of these excursions that it finally happened: his father found him.  Alston was studying the rock and the book when suddenly the little light that came from the cave entrance was blotted out and a shape approached.  The space inside was so small he had no place to run to, so he was stuck, and then he heard the familiar voice of his father: "So what have you been up to son?".  Alston braced for the worst, but instead his father used a calm tone, and seemed genuinely interested.  Over the next few minutes his father explained who he really is: a wizard who had been searching for a fellow wizard that had never returned from a quest.  Alston had so many questions, he had only heard of wizards in bedtime stories, he didn't think they were real or that his father was one.  His mind reeling, he barely registered what his father was asking of him, to repeat a phrase.  The words made no sense, but he said them, and suddenly a light appeared, momentarily blinding him.  He heard a satisfied "Hmph" from his father, then the words that would change the trajectory of his life: "Son, I think you have an affinity for magic, would you like to follow in your father's footsteps?"

What followed was confirmation of his magical ability by other wizards, basic studying, and some trials.  His mother was not happy, she didn't want to part ways with him so early in life, but her father assured her it was for the best.  He heard things like "lots of power" and "to protect both you and him".  Alston couldn't understand this, he would never hurt his mother.  Did his father think he was a bad child?  But before he knew it, his father was there again, in front of him and with his mother weeping and saying it would be okay.  He wouldn't be away forever, just for a little while.  Looking back, he's not sure if she was lying to him or to herself.

A little while turned into months, then into years.  Sure, he got to see his mother occasionally and return to his home (now with a little brother and sister), but each visit got shorter, and the time between visits grew longer.  He was kept busy with reading in the vast library and practices in the yard.  In the beginning were basic spells like light and protection, but before he'd be allowed on a quest he had to learn offensive spells as well.  To be allowed this level of power, he had to gain maturity, which meant more study time, and more time with defensive spells.  Maturity was slow to arrive, slower than his patience.  He tried to find a way into the part of the library where the damage tomes were stored, but each time he was kicked out and reprimanded.  Just like his time as a child when he was out exploring, he finally got his wish and found a way to one of the tomes that had Magic Missile.  He memorized the words, returned the book, and made his way outside.  He quickly checked to be sure he was alone, then he said the words he read in the book.  He could feel the power course through him as he stared at the practice dummy, but instead of firing bolts of energy, they blew up directly in front of him.  He was knocked back and a circle of bare earth appeared where he had been standing, dirt and grass flying.

He awoke some time later in the infirmary, his father at his side.  Upon waking, his father gave him the same stern look that he hated as a kid, got up, and walked out.  Alston's ego and feelings were as hurt as his body.  Through accelerated healing he was physically ready to return to studies, but mentally he wasn't and his teachers refused to let him near the library or the practice yard for a month.  Over time he was able to make ammends with his teachers, but he knew that they would never forget what he did.  He may have been a child, but they had expected more.

Several years of study and practice went by, including the study of offensive spells, and it was time to go on a quest.  He was paired with two older instructors and several his approximate age; he outshone the other children through his ability to solve puzzles and to take down enemies that the other children couldn't.  After performing just as well in several more quests, he was put on the fast track to gaining the title of Wizard.  After a dozen such quests, he no longer went out with other children but instead went as an apprentice, being the only child in a group of adult Wizards.

Upon reaching the age of 18, he was allowed to leave the school with the title of Wizard.  His father had long ago returned home to be with his wife, and to protect that region from the forces of evil, but he returned for the graduation ceremony.  Alston never did return home, his thirst for knowledge and adventure providing too much pull.  The day will come when he returns home, it's just that today is not that day.  He knows that there are countless caves out there just like the one he discovered as a child, each potentially harboring some new creature to document or tome to read.  He spent his adolescence reading the accumulated knowledge of many authors, some day his own knowledge will reside among the others.