Solanthos: The Beginning, Part 2

After the tragedy that befell Solanthos' family and home he took some time at the Towers to recover from his wounds and prepare himself for the upcoming journey. He found himself in the library more often than not, studying the ways of conjuration and teleportation and trying to figure out how exactly he managed to dart behind his attacker without taking a step. He knew that there were certainly spells that would do such a thing, but at that point in his studies he could not grasp the intricate inflections and gestures needed to master them. He knew that something had triggered the ability at his greatest moment of fear and adrenaline and that it was instantaneous. Even his masters at the Towers could not explain the phenomenon, but they secretly were concerned that the trauma of the events caused Solanthos to forget the exact details of that night.

One particular evening Solanthos returned to his chambers to finish scribing a new spell when he found a peculiar and disturbing thing - a folded piece of parchment sticking out of his spellbook. His spellbook was magically guarded with runes that should have prevented anyone else from touching it, but somehow somebody managed to get by the magical protections on the book. He did a quick cantrip to determine if the note had any magical properties, but the telltale blue aura was nowhere to be found. He carefully opened the note.

In flowing Elven script, the note said simply, "I think we can be of some service to one another. We have a common enemy and common goals. If interested, follow the grey bird that awaits outside Greenwood."

Solanthos folded the note back up and looked around the room. There were no other signs of tampering anywhere in the room, and a quick survey indicated that no one had been seen anywhere near his room. He stayed up very late before falling alseep, pondering who might have sent this mysterious message.

---

Carandor was probably the most unorthodox looking elf the world has ever seen. He towered over most of his bretheren at over six feet tall and had a stocky build that rivaled the strongest of humans. Instead of having the long flowing locks that most elves favored, Carandor was completely bald except for one long braided ponytail hanging down to the small of his back. At first look, no one ever believed he was a full-blooded elf and he got many sideways glances from elves who didn't know him. However, he was just as elven as anyone else in Greenwood, and when Carandor's family moved to Greenwood, Solanthos took Carandor under his wing and as such they became fast friends. Their friendship to many was just as strange as Carandor's appearance; Solanthos was studious, thoughtful, and wise beyond his years, while Carandor was brash, arrogant, and impulsive. However, Solanthos found their differences fascinating and, as always, tried to learn as much as possible from this enigmatic character.

Solanthos arrived at Carandor's home a few days after receiving the note, only to find that Carandor was waiting outside for him, armed to the teeth and with bags packed.

"Wow... going somewhere?" Solanthos asked.

"Yeah - to protect you! You can't run off alone, you'll get killed!" Carandor exclaimed. Solanthos cocked his head to the side, but before he could say anything, Carandor produced a note, folded in a similar fashion on similar paper with the same flowing script. "Besides, you think I'd miss out on the fun and the chance to beat someone up? Give me a break! It's boring here anyway right now."

"Um, a lich just attacked the village. I'd say that's the least boring thing that's happened here since... well, ever."

"Lich Smitch. I'll beat up some pansy skeletal wizard just like I used to beat you! You ready?"

Solanthos sighed. There would be no convincing Carandor the error of his logic. "So, how did you get that note, anyway?"

Carandor scratched his head. "You know, come to think of it... I just found it a couple of days ago. It was the strangest thing..." He prattled on as they headed towards the city gates. Solanthos half-listened as his thoughts deepened into concern that this was some sort of trap. He also knew that he wasn't going to find any more information regarding his newfound latent abilities or the lich that destroyed his family and home unless he could find new tomes to sift through. Plus, he knew it would do him well to get the events of the last few weeks out of his head.

Just outside of the Greenwood gates, it did not take Solanthos long to figure out how they would get to their destination. A grey parrot swooped out of a tree, circled twice, and then landed on his shoulder. He rocked back and forth and cackled, then flew away toward the north. Carandor frowned.

"Are we really going to trust this random grey bird to take us somewhere good? I'd feel safer if we had a map or something." The bird flew back around Carandor's head, then swiftly plucked the earring right out of his ear and flew off, again toward the north.

"YOU SON OF A...!" Carandor bellowed as he took off toward the direction of the bird. Solanthos chuckled. He knew it was going to be a long trip, and knew that he might need to keep Carandor out of trouble, but he was glad to have the company.

(to be continued...)

Solanthos: The Beginning

Solanthos was born in a small elven town called Greenwood almost 150 years ago. His father was the mayor of the town, a former adventurer whose family had run the town for many millenia, while his mother was a beautiful and well-revered mage amongst the Elven Orders of Wizardry. They led a peaceful life with few hardships. Solanthos was generally accepted amongst his peers, but he tended towards introversion, preferring to study and read books.

Solanthos excelled in his studies. It became quickly apparent at a very young age that Solanthos would share his mother's thirst for knowledge and penchant for matters of the arcane. His father knew that this would be the best path for the boy despite his personal desire for Solanthos to be a strong and powerful bladesinger, so from that early age he started teaching him self-defense and attack techniques that even mages could use. The boy wasn't very strong, so he taught him how to use his agility to avoid attacks and showed him the art of throwing small weapons to keep foes at bay. When it was time, Solanthos headed off to the Towers for his arcane training.

Greenwood was only two days' travel from the Towers, so he went back home to see his family and friends whenever he got a break from his studies. His masters at the Tower all sent them brilliant praises of his natural ability with magic. He developed a particular affinity to the Astral Plane, quickly grasping the theoretical concepts of interdimensional travel and creating objects from what seemed to be nothing at all. As most elves, he shunned death magic from an early age; mastering the powers of the dead held no appeal to those who fought to preserve life and enjoy beauty. He also tended to avoid the powers of enchantment, as they simply held no interest to him. Solanthos much rather enjoyed outwitting his adversaries instead of taking command of them, and since all of the elves in the Towers were immune to such magic anyway, few people cared to learn the spells during their studies.

Solanthos returned home from the Towers during a fortnight break to visit, arriving well into the early morning hours. He walked up to the door and ran his hands over the familiar wards on the door to dispel them, but his attention quickly averted to the flash in the window. What he would see in that flash of light would be burned into his memories forever - his father laying face down in a pool of his own blood, his mother facing a dark-cloaked figure accompanied by several orcs. Tears stained her cheeks as she held her hand high in the air, the source of the flash. Then, complete and utter darkness.

Solanthos was disoriented as he felt his way around in the dark. He heard chaos inside as the orcs clamored and ran into each other trying to regain their bearings. He fumbled for the door handle, but found it to be red-hot. He then smelled the smoke, and had the horrible realization that his home was burning inside. In a flash of adrenaline and rage, he put his palm to the door and uttered a few harsh words. The the door blew off its hinges, and even through the darkness he could hear that several of the orcs were collected and thrown into the opposite wall, their bones making sickening sounds as they were crushed between ironwood and oak. He reached for the ring on his left hand, one his mother had given him to use in case his magic ever got out of hand. With one word, the ring would dispel all of the magic in the area, revealing the trespassers that had threatened his mother and killed his father.

He spoke the command word and the darkness fell away to be replaced by a far worse scene; the figure stood behind his mother poised for attack. She saw his reaction and turned to her attacker as the sword entered her ribcage. He pushed her unceremoniously off his sword and she crumpled to the ground, barely able to breathe. The attacker then rushed toward Solanthos. It was all happening impossibly fast. He took a step, wiling something, ANYTHING...

... and then was five feet behind his attacker. He felt the warmth of the magic around him and knew his mother was still alive. He knew that somehow he had hopped through the Astral Plane to get behind his target, but didn't know how. He also knew that his dagger would connect with his disoriented attacker in the precise spot it needed in order to kill him almost instantly. He didn't think, or have time to think. He just KNEW.

He threw the blade and it sliced, end over end. After two perfect rotations it implanted deep in the back of the cloaked figure's neck, leaving him gasping through a ruptured windpipe for air as his body went into shock. Solanthos turned to his mother, who was fighting for breath as well, and then heard a chant he didn't recognize from a voice he didn't recognize. His mother's eyes widened and she mouthed one word... "Run."

He took off toward the door and turned back just in time to see his mother engulfed in flames, and another more sinister thing attacking her. It wore the tattered robes of an ancient archmage, robes that had long since rotted and decayed. Its skeletal hand reached for her face in longing, whispering and hissing an incantation as she drew back in horror. She began to glow bright blue as Solanthos could feel a great shift in the magic around him.

The blue light gathered around her until it became almost blinding. Solanthos felt holes ripping in the fabric of reality as all of the magic in the area were channeled through her body. The energy, the pure mana, crackled throughout the room, dancing around him, intoxicating him with its power. He heard his mother within his head as loudly as he heard his own thoughts.

"Please go. I will do what I must."

He turned toward her but she flicked her hand, shoving him through the door with magical force.

"Please run now. You can save yourself. Know that I love you always."

The energy consumed the entire house, and then everything flashed white. Solanthos took a step forward, and was suddenly hundreds of feet away watching the explosion. Another flash, and he was a mile away. Another flash... then... nothing.

---

Solanthos woke up in his room at the Towers. Bleary shapes sharpened and formed images, and he soon was able to recognize his Headmaster and several of his peers standing over his bed, many with relieved expressions on their faces.

The Headmaster explained that a lich had been targetting his mother for some time hoping to one day steal her life force and use their combined magic to enter the world again as a powerful mage. However, he underestimated her abilities and she was able to banish him back to his phylactery. In the process, however, the entire house was consumed. He wasn't sure how Solanthos got back to the Towers though. Solanthos couldn't cast a powerful spell like that yet, but he suspected it was caused by his affinity for teleportation combined with the powerful magics that surrounded him that night. Or perhaps it was his mother protecting him one last time before sacrificing herself to temporarily banish the evil lich. Regardless, Solanthos swore that he would avenge the death of his mother one day, once his power grew strong enough.

He also knew that the only way to gain that power would be to leave the Towers, leave Greenwood, and begin exploring the world. Fortunately, the opportunity presented itself almost immediately in the form of an old friend... and a stranger named Cauchmar.

(to be continued...)

The Dragonscale Nursery

Drake donned the earth crown, an act which immediately set-off a chain of events. One by one, the crystal columns in the center of the chamber shattered. Each column revealed a secret: It had contained the essence of a powerful creature for centuries, as a final guardian to those who would seek to acquire the power of the earth crown.

Standing now, within the midst of the party were a fiendish looking ettin and a writhing mass of tentacles, mouths and eyes, which Solanthos understood to be a chaos beast. Each adversary moved to attack, with the Ettin taking some small abuse early. Solanthos detected a third foe, when he felt the force of a powerful wind which tried to push him back. Squinting, he could just see the outline of an invisible stalker.

As dangerous as the creatures appeared to be, the steadfast heroes demonstrated that they were far more dangerous. Going into a rage, Ymir pounced on the ettin, cutting deeply between the creature’s two heads. The force of the blow almost cleaved the ettin completely into two halves. Needless to say, the creature died where it stood, with one half of its body falling one way and the other half falling in the other direction. The force of the fall tore at the skin, completing the dissection. The ettins bowels spilled out on the floor at Ymir’s feet.

Drake meanwhile used the power of the earth crown to summon two large earth elementals. The first one slammed into the chaos beast with such ferocity that it liquefied the foe and splattered its guts all over the floor and on everyone standing nearby. Moving from outside of the shadows, the tiefling that the group had recently encountered now tried to sneak attack Dexter. The foolish tiefling had apparently not been paying attention to the awesomeness that was once again on display. The second of the two elementals slammed into the tiefling, literally smashing his face into the back of his head.

The only thing left was the invisible stalker. Dexter had managed to sling it a few times. Already hurting, the stalker was fairly easy prey for the earth elemental, who finished it off.

Congratulations to the party. You are now the proud owners of the Keep of Kings, and, with earth elementals under your control, you put them to work to make necessary repairs and to start new construction. If everyone would like, make a floorplan of what you want your section to look like. Also, Korik might want to build a temple of Pelor. Solanthos might want to build a gambling hall. You might want a barracks or community living quarters. You might consider adding an inn and trying to find people who would want to live in your keep. I am sure that notes, posted in Brindinford or even in the Capitol, Tringlee, might attract people hoping to profit from your newfound locale.

About two months into your work, a stranger, with a foreign accent came to you. He was bedraggled and apparently quite exhausted. He introduced himself as Targen Klem, follower of Villeforte Mondago. He explains that his master was abducted by a dragon lord for whom he had been searching. According to rumor, this dragonlord has been collecting dragon eggs and placing them within a type of nursery, somewhere in the Lortmil Mountains. This unnamed dragon lord is apparently planning to raise the dragons and sell them off as mounts to evil people, eventually in the hopes of taking over the known world. This dragon lord is also apparently a follower of the old ways of the Ddraigasa: Those who worshipped Ashardalon, the fearsome red dragon. Targen offered the party 500 gp each for the safe return of his master. In addition, since, as Targen pointed out, his master’s mission was to destroy any and all evil dragon eggs, Targen offers the party 500 gp for each and every dragon egg that they bring to him. Targen pointed out the general vicinity of the dragon egg nursery for you, and, with haste, the party left.

The journey was largely uneventful. At one point, the party came upon a crazed treant, who screamed out nonsensical rantings about a dragon. He accused the party of being in league with “the dragon” and would not listen to reason. The treant died at the end of Ymir’s blade and that night, the party had a nice roaring fire.

Another few days travel brought the group to the mysterious nursery. Tragedy almost claimed Drake’s life, when he was unable to detect the presence of an acid trap at the entrance to the ancient cavern. After successfully disabling the trap, the group proceeded in and cautiously looked to see what they could find. Drake noticed a pair of large blackscaled lizardmen in a corner of one room, and, hoping to score a quick kill, he loosed two arrows at one of the LouSs. (Lizards of unusual size) He missed on both shots, and the the battle started. Pouring out of almost every nook and cranny, LoUSs and hobgoblins came after the party. Gyrr and Korik took the brunt of the attacks. Gyrr came close to being knocked out several times, as did Korik, who was finally able to get close enough to keep both himself and Gyrr alive. Solanthos was, at one point, hurting as well, but, given enough time, the party showed just how resilient it can be, and killed off all of the enemies.

Searching around turned out to be quite fortuitous, as the party amassed quite a collection of treasure. In addition, the group entered a back room and found an old acquaintance of Korik and Gyrr’s: Meepo the kobold. It turns out that Meepo is the dragonlord, but, he is not acting as Targen Klem described. In fact, Meepo explained to the party that Targem is the one with evil intentions. Targem is hoping to raise the Tsaggest Darkweld, the dracolich, and, he needs dragon eggs for the ritual that will awaken the terror. Meepo has asked for your help in stopping Targem. He gave you a map of the surrounding area, which pinpoints locations to which you will need to go. Meep explained that in order to stop the ritual, you will need to find the Egg of Bahamut and the Egg of Tiamat. In addition, Meepo gave you a half-dozen dragon eggs that are actually dead, saying, “If Targen come for eggs, you give him these to fool him.”

And now, you are on your way. . .

Which one of you cleaned Gyrr's soiled underpants?

The intrepid heroes of Brindinford had finally completed the trek to the Keep of the Fallen Kings; property for which they had received the title from Baron Euphemese. Viewing the keep from the entrance, the wear and tear of the ages was quite apparent. The Kings Road wound its way all the way to the front entrance of the keep, where the doors had been destroyed. Searching the rubble in the doorway, Drake noticed the body of a dead dwarf under the door and found a pale blue ioun stone wedged between two of the flagstones on the floor. The dwarf had been dead for awhile, but, there was no way to tell just how long it had been since he had given up the ghost. Hoping to garner some type of answer, Drake used his ability to speak with plants, and was only able to learn that a large creature had recently passed this way. Wondering what the creature may have been, the party soon found out, as a half-fiendish ogre sauntered into view, attracted by the sound of Drake's voice.

The group acted quickly, realizing that the creature looming before them, had no peaceful intentions. The fiend gave a battle cry, calling for his compatriots to aid him, and then moved to attack. Drake and Lianna managed to loose a few arrows into the creature's wretched ashen hide, hoping to distract the ogre fiend's attention from the stunty dwarf Gyrr, who maneuvered closer to engage the foul beast in melee combat. The tactic failed. Entering into a raging fury, this harbinger of death stepped forward, acting so quickly that Gyrr failed to see the glint of the large falchion that swung toward him. The mighty blow struck Gyrr at the collar bone with a sickening crunch and cut so deeply, that the blade stopped only after reaching the dwarf's sternum. Gyrr died before he hit the ground, his heart exploding, showering his nearby companions and the ogre with a bloody sheen. Stunned, the rest of the party stood, with mouth's agape, wondering if their fates would match that of the indefatigable Gyrr.

Realizing that now was not the time for mourning, Ymir launched himself at the ogre, intent on avenging his friend. From behind a wall inside the keep, the sound of a horn blared and the party realized that the ogre had friends. Placing himself in a position to take out any enemies who might try to flank them, Solanthos readied himself to cast a web spell as soon as an enemy came round the corner in the hall at the rear of the group. The wizard's keen situational awareness was proven, the moment another ogre fiend rounded the corner. Launching his web spell, Solanthos was frustrated the the creature was dextrous enough to avoid becomming entangled. He knew, however that the ogre would at least be slowed down as it tried to traverse the web's expanse. In the meantime, Ymir, Drake, Lianna, Dexter and Ymir continued to concentrate their attacks on the abomination that had killed Gyrr. Collectively, the damage they dealt was overwhelming, and, Lianna grimaced with a small sense of satisfaction, as she buried an arrow in the beast's chest and watched it fall.

Turning their attention to the other ogre, the group fired volley after volley, killing him, before he had a chance to get out of the web. While the second ogre fell, a group of howling orcs stepped over the body of the first ogre and continued the assault. To add to the group's problems, the orcs had with them, a pet dire bear. To make matters worse, a chimera landed behind the group, coming into the keep through the entrance that the party had used just a moment before, and exhaled a stream of acid which struck three of the party members. Again, after assessing the situation, Solanthos used his magic to conjure a debilitating cloud of festering, putrisent noxious gas. The cloud enveloped three of the orcs and the dire bear. The dire bear and one orc were unable to withstand the gas, and they became violently nauseated; vomiting and excreting all of the foulness that their bodies could not absorb. Korik used a few of the attack spells in his arsenal to attack the chimera, while dexter and drake attacked with ranged weapons. Lianna felled the chimera, Drake focused his arrows on the helpless dire bear, and even korik pulled out his crossbow to help with the animal. Meanwhile, Ymir laid the hurt down on the leader of the orcs, and, it was at this point that the party began to believe that they might just survive the encounter.

Killing all but one of the attackers, the group manacled the nauseated orc and began questioning him. The orc was unwilling to trade his life for answers to the party's questions, and, after the nausea wore off, the orc lunged at Ymir, trying to strangle him. One attack leter, the corpse of the dead orc lay sprawled out on the ground. After looting the bodies of the fallen enemies, the party decided to heal themselves and then head back to civilization to see if Gyrr could be raised.

The sense of relief at the sight of Gyrr's rejevenated body washed over his friends like a wave. Although not quite feeling like his old self, Gyrr was happy to be alive again. (Gyrr is now 7th level again)

Going back to the keep, the group located a trap door that opened to an area below. Drake searched the door for traps, but, after finding nothing, he stepped back and JJ suggested that the meat shield that was not his real character (I mean, Gyrr) open the door. WHAM! The anti-gravity spell that trigged when teh door opened, sent Gyrr falling all the way up to crash into the ceiling, at which point Gyrr fell back to the ground taking damage from the fall and from the rubble that fell from the ceiling, burying Gyrr beneath, The group acted quickly to dig Gyrr out, but sadly, Gyrr was dead again! (Just kidding) They dug Gyrr out of the rubble and healed him back to full. Drake then descended into the hole and as he touched the ground, he watched as a large blue creature, of a type he had never seen before, stepped out through a wall. The scout scurried up the ladder and formulated a plan with the rest of the group.

Those party memebers who had the ability to feather fall, used the tactics of a vertical assault and dropped down the hole. After the party had all descended, the started to move into a large central chamber, where they once again encountered the Blue Slaad. A fight ensued, and the slaad was joined by a pair of fiendish-Girallon allies. This level fo the keep exuded evil. A river of blood, emanating from the statue of a devil on a dais at the far end of the room, flowed in two sections, which each meandered to the mouth of a demonic fresco on the floor. The mouth was an obvious source of evil. While most of the party maneuvered to fight, Korik used his turn undead attempts to destroy the manifestation of evil on the floor, as well as to destroy a pair of ghostly doors, which also exuded an evil taint.After killing the slaad and the girallons, Drake began to investigate the source of the blood that flowed relentlessly from the statue. Moving to get a closer look, he caught the attention of a crimson ooze, which then followed him into the large room, and the party once again had to fight. Eventually, the ooze was dispatched and Drake the statue was destroyed. The flow of blood ceased, and, after the blood pool drained, the party clearly saw a crystalline crown within the pool. Donning the crown, Drake was immediately receptive to the power of the crown. The Earthcrown allowed the wearer to summon one huge, two large or three medium sized earth elementals, who were tasked with the serving the crown wearer as long as the crown remained within the confines of the keep. The crown has several other powers, but, Drake immediately realized that if he takes the crown out of the keep or its environs, it will crumble to dust.

However, after placing the crown on his head, three blue crystal pillars shattered, and tehir former occupants are ready to fight.

When we return, the game will pick up at this climactic fight.

I'll explain more on the crown in the coming days.

The Surrounding Environs

As promised, here is a map of the areas in which you have adventured. As you can see, the Lortmil Mountains take up the greater part of the north side of the area you have been traversing. This map may not be large enough. I will be sure to print one out for you all as well for our next session.

Speaker in Dreams Defeated

The story of your heroics in Brindinford is on the lips of all of the town criers in Brindinford. Your group has managed to piece together the clues that led you directly to Baron Euphemese as the person responsible for all that ailed the city. After defating the forces of evil that had assumed control of the Temple of Pelor, you travelled to the Baron's keep, where you confronted him. It was only then that you discovered the true force of evil who had usurped the Baron's authority - a mind flayer, by the name of Gaerleth Axom.

Answering the Baron's invitation to join him on his balcony, the wary party was assaulted by the illithid. Athleitc prowess was on display as a few of you jumped from the balcony in an affort to kill the mind flaer as he hovered over the den below, blasting you with his psionic powers. Despite the odds, quite a few of you demonstrated remarkable mental prowess, as you withstood the assaults and lived up to your now glowing reputations. Ironically, Dexter and Solanthos succumbed to the attack, and, it looked as though some of you would meet your fate as brain food, served up on a platter of bone. Nevertheless, Lianna was showed extraordinarytesticular fortitude and managed to hurt the Axom, forcing him to delay his meal and deal with her. This gave the reainder of the party time to regroup and launch a series of aerial attacks. Gyrr provided the death blow to Axom, thus freeing his comrades and teh Baron from the mental clutches of the despicable mind flayer.

Now, richly rewarded and after spending time to re-equip, the party travels the kings road, on teh way to the Keep of the Forgotten Kings. The title for the keep has been bestowed upon you, but, already facing an attack on the road, it is obvious that control of the keep will have to be earned, by the sweat of your brows.

Drake Part 3

…I had never seen skin so pale, or eyes so lifeless. The evil in the air was palpable. I locked eyes with the mysterious figure, and I was nearly helpless. As a devilish smirk came over his face, I felt drawn to him, my thoughts became clouded. I heard a loud bark from Dorian, which was enough to help settle my composure. I glanced over at the fire and saw Greyson lying next to the fire with blood running down his face and neck. Dorian charged at the figure, and at that moment, without hesitation…it was like a reflex, I drew my bow and fired and arrow. (I suppose those hundreds of shots before breakfast did have a purpose.) As Dorian jump toward the figure, he was slapped away like an insect. Yet the man, the creature…the “whatever” did not expect the arrow that was aimed at his chest. He was surprised when his chest was punctured by my arrow. The look of hate in his face was something I would never forget. He pulled the arrow out, and broke it. Then with the same smirk that I had seen moments before, he evaporated in to a mist. I heard his parting words…he simply said, “Later my boy…”
I ran to Greyson to see if I could help him, but it was too late. I closed his eyes and clinched his lifeless body. I knew that the sadness I was feeling was not what the Shalm would want of me, so I composed myself and moved his body to the fire. I walked over to Dorian, who was injured, and said my goodbye before I put him out of his misery. With Greyson gone, Dorian would not want to live, they were one. They shared everything, including their sight. I gathered what supplies I felt necessary for my travels, and left.
I made a living as a hunter for a short time, but found that my true passion and skill lied in tracking. Not to mention, it was a much more profitable business. Many people would look at me as a 16 year old boy and underestimate my prowess; I always found that to be advantageous. As the money got better, I could not help but be drawn back to that face that haunted me. Why was Greyson killed? Was it random? Was it a vendetta?
I made my way back to Greyhawk. The city that was basically my “home” now was disgusting to me. I tried to stay away from my old stomping grounds, but I couldn’t help but stop by to see my old “friend” Mosenrat. He was all grown up now. He invited me in and was very curious about where I had been and my life. I told him a little, but something felt wrong…he was different. He excused himself for a moment, and as expected, I began to browse through his collection of books and other assorted arcane trinkets. Suddenly something caught my eye. It was a book, the same color as the robe of the man that killed Gresyon. It was the exact same color, not to mention that it had a faded symbol of a dragon on the spine that matched a symbol I recalled on the same man’s robe. I reached for the book, and flipped through it quickly. At a glance, it referenced an old, long dead dragon cult. Mosenrat re-entered the room. He had a curious look on his face, and asked me to put the book down. I was confused, and tried to explain that I was just interested in the cover. He insisted that I put the book down. I did as he asked. Suddenly he had matters to attend to, and ushered me to leave. Fortunately for me, while rusty, my ability to pocket small objects was not completely gone. I managed to pocket a note that was folded and tucked inside the book.
The next stop on my list was to see Nooly Hoppertoss. He was nowhere to be found, and nobody had seen him for quite some time. However, I was able to track him down to a safe little cottage in the woods outside of town. As a matter of fact, I was waiting for him inside his home when he returned from a stroll in the woods. While he was surprised, he was very happy to see me. I asked him if there was any work to be done. He explained that he was retired, but a friend of his told him about a man claiming to be a noble and offering a reward for finding something or other. I thanked him and began to leave. He stopped me and asked why I really came back. I never responded.
I returned to town to meet this Vealfor Montego and accept his offer to find what he was looking for. The problem was that he had pretty much no leads to go on. I however did have a lead. The not I “borrowed” evidently was important. I was just a crude map with the words citadel written in Draconic. This was an artifact that was valuable enough for Mosenrat to hire a couple of thugs to come and find me to retrieve it. Sadly for them, I was able to spot them right off the bat. I waited until dark, and I lost them before I hit the city gates.
My ravels took me to a canyon with a temple way down at the bottom. I would assume that it had been long forgotten, but there were fresh dead bodies sprawled about the different levels. Blood that had not yet dried. I spent two days investigating the ruins, trying to retrace the steps of the tornado that had blown through this place. At the bottom of the temple I came to an opening with a broken tree. Scattered about were the twigs of creatures not unlike the ones that had attacked me a year or so prior. Suddenly I could hear a shuffling near by. An unholy, unnatural had risen from the dead, and was seeking to make me the next meal. I made sure that did not happen. After what I felt was a thorough search and documentation of potential clues I headed to the nearest settlement.
The villagers of the town told me about a band of travelers who had come through and helped them with a rather unusual problem. They relayed the story, and said that the band was led by a particularly calm dwarf, which at this point I could only assume is Gyrr. Without much to go on, my travels sent me following the trail of this party hoping to connect some of my own dots. However, I managed to always be a step behind them. I arrived at the next town after they had brought dozens of orc scalps to the mayor for payment. However, this same mayor had an unusual collection of weapons. They all possessed a distinct symbol, the mark of some dwarven craftsman. When I discovered that this craftsman was survived by an old woman in Brindonford, I headed there. I enlisted the help of this lady and the anvil that your group had as a means to possibly catch up with your party. I had this bow and kukri made, and in the mean time, I tried to find some answers for my own questions.
To bring the story full circle, after picking up my new weapons, which are of amazing quality, my search for answers led me to that “lovely” bookstore that you so graciously helped me escape. At this point I owe each of you a life debt, which is the standard that I live by. You have a trustworthy and capable comrade, and while I am slow to trust, and very coarse at times, hopefully, perhaps you will call me a friend at some point. Only time will tell.
Now, enough about me…shut up…be quiet…and stay back, I am going to try and keep you all from getting killed…