Faerun Adventures

As told by Nathia Truthfist We had been tasked with escorting Sirondar, something that sounded simple enough. We started off from Gorlock's Palace -- ah, it had been some time since I had been there but things were much the same -- and met up with Ted there, who joined us. Braltak was also there and seemed sad that Greeba had to leave so soon. He invited her to visit. We set off for Leefield. It was a market town known for timber and cows and...well, that is what it looked like. Fields and trees. We met Olos, who told us of some trouble in town, though he seemed to take an instant dislike to Gorlock, which was unusual. Even so, he took us to the Council after some free drinks. We met them at the Village Hall. There was Simmon, the Blacksmith, and Joshua Kairnley, a Ranger.  They told us that a farm had been razed, but it did not seem like a natural attack. Is any attack natural? I might have asked that once. At any rate, they thought it might have come from the wood. I asked the ra...

An accounting from Arian. Two of the gricks wasted no time in snipping away bits of Greeba with their sharp beaks, but Sirondar was there with his new lance -- he charged forwards with a battle cry that would have done any barbarian proud, and skewered one of the gricks. Trystan, having heard Greeba's delicate cry of pain, rushed into the room and cast his last healing spell upon her. Wisteria followed on his heels, ready for action. Gorlock blasted another grick with an eldritch blast that lit it up in a blaze before it sank back into the murky water. Arian cast frostbite upon another, though she only managed to freeze just the tip of it's beak, but at least it seemed to disorient the beast. Thibault and Greeba both attacked the remaining gricks -- the half-orc landing a particularly mighty blow, but the nasty beast seemed to shrug it off. It did not, however, shrug off Xarius' firebolt. Little by little, they whittled away at the gricks until finally, finally, they all la...

An Excerpt from Thibault's Diary. The previous combats were a series of blazing victories but it was not a reason to get complacent or to sleep on it. Everybody in the group was nervous, wary of some unknown evil that could be awaiting at the corner of a corridor, or crawling in the impenetrable darkness on the levels below. Arian, still sporting her majestic, fearsome wolven form, was sniffing the air around. Smelling the tiles on the floor, she tried to capture some intelligence about any impending threat and who could be our next enemies. Because two pairs of nostrils are better than one, I decided to do the same with my own modest talents: I reached the eastern staircase and stared along the steps until they disappeared into the darkness. I took a deep breath and muttered a prayer to let the divine open my senses for any emanation of an evil nature: Nothing… I never know if it’s reassuring news or if I should be more alarmed.  Trying again on the north stairs, this time I sense...

An accounting from Greeba. Greeba had already lost one javelin to the rust-making ooze, but she hefted another one to her shoulder cheerfully, as it was destined to pierce the two-headed death dog coming out of the left passage.  Underhall was a dark and smelly place, neither of which bothered her, really, as long as there was some treasure to be found, and foes to be felled.  The snarling beasts emerging ahead were much more alive, and therefore easier to kill, than the slime that had oozed out of the murky underground pool. The new guy Trystan, the bard that bonded with Gorlock, spelled the beasts with a piercing sound that made one bleed from the ears.  The warlock quickly hexed it with another spell, and Wisteria followed the curse with necromancy, probably, and killed one of the dogs.  Greeba didn’t really understand spells, except that it was better to have them cast by your side than by the enemy.  Thibault, the paladin, rushed in to attack the second dea...

An accounting from Arian. Much had been accomplished at the Ironwolf Keep in the last ten day. A new well had been dug and the old one cleaned out. Grimsby, the stonemason they had hired in Ravensburg, had made much progress on the new entry to the Keep, even putting in a murder hole. Thibault’s servants had been busy cleaning and many of the rooms were now habitable. Frank and his boys were busy patrolling and training. Arian and Wisteria quickly put in a small garden plot so that the plants and herbs they had brought with them from The Grove would not wither and die. With a bit of searching, Arian also located the remains of an old orchard full of apple and pear trees – very promising for future cider or perry concerns! She brought back as many of the late fall fruit as she could carry. Trystan the bard had accompanied them back, having made fast friends with Gorlock. He regaled them nightly with cheery songs of conquest. Elia in particular seemed quite taken with him, much to Sirond...