Traveling south from Waterdeep the efk randomly encounters a green dragon. Presumably preying on the roadway the worm makes it’s first flyby. Raineer releases a spell of electricity upon the flying menace. As the creature passes it unleashes its gaseous breath upon the road. Then orthan and his horse are lifted from the road and thrown across the plain. In his flight, orthan is able to drink a potion of gaseous form and save him-self from certain death. His horse, upon smashing accross the land, is returned to its previous owner. (The mount spell is truly demented)
On the second pass the dragon is struck again with electrical magic and finally brought down by a precisely slung20! thudmeister bullet. Orthan rushes to pronounce victory!
The group travels south to Orlbar to seek magical training for Raineer. On the way they discover three battalions of orcs. One traveling to Daggerford, one to Loudwater and one to Zelbras. Upon arrival Skilver discovers that the new Mage of Orlbar is his former mentor, the dark mage from the Wizard’s College. The group spends the winter and spring acquiring training, supplies & magic.
arright, I still think this blog script seems a poor substitute for a Bard and sounds like a lot of elvish foopheiness to me…..though i must admit those bat-eared pansies can be damn clever, so a word to the inscriber charged with recording our glory. Do your job right and I won’t ring your neck but I make no apoligizes for the condition of your quill pen. You must know unlike the rest of this party my hands are not used to such delicate tools…so I snaped off that irritating feather, not because it tickled my nose and pissed me off but I’ve had this minor sore on my bunghole and your glosimer pheasant plumage offers potential relief….I’ll return it when things clear up, meantime you may want to learn the craft of TakinDictation.
Enough pleastries, the sight of the Temple’s destruction was unexpected and weighs heavy. Just when I hoped for some guidance, perhaps away from this aimless crew, I find myself aimless and free. This will take some getting used to, for now this hapless bunch is all I have…pity, I doubt they would cross the threshold of the most plundered dungeon without me and my howling steel. Take the journey to Orlbar, before I realized what happened half the group scattered to the bushes and the great green dragon was nearly on me. Of course my steed and I were of steadier heart, with hardly more than sling and will I brought the flying beast down. The shot thru his scull looked like a beady thrid eye. hahah left me with a bit of a cough though, like one who smokes too much. Tough old lizard too, had clearly survived a few nasty scraps before he encountered ThudMeisterSpatski’s latest hit – Green Dragon Assasin! OH yeau!!!!
Orlbar rocked too. Drinking with the donkeypunch gang. Plenty of food & wine and loads of friendly women, I’ll not soon forget you crazy mary, loose lucy, toothless tamy, carrie clam, fat freida, pretty pia, ugly uma, tight thelma, ambiguous pat, gurgeling grechen and the swinging spinsters!
Stumpy gonna cry now. Stumpy woulda loved to have a string on his ankle and go caving…
“Thud! Get that whore off the floor, someone might thinks she’s dead.”
That boy is going hog wild. Top notch whoring all around. He gets high marks. Glad I drank that longevity potion. Its good to be young and insenc
with the spring again. The druid looks like he could use alittle sip of the magic juice, get him going,so he can properly interact with nature. Plus, with the magic spoon to avoid the piss of fire and other calamities, its all good.
Orlbar has been good to us. Lucked out with the Mage of O. being Skillver’s former teacher. Recieved excellent training and the old guy seemed to like me. I think we share similar views.
He grew on me and I liked his very dry sick humor.
That guy was fucked up, in a good way.Hell, those druid’s even managed to make some coin turning that water to wine. Glad we left on a high note
for once and not in our usual fashion…
…Finally the desert city is in sight. That was one hell of a ride.I hope its worth it.I could use a drink and a decent meal. Shit,that halforc could use a fucking bath. Lets go already.
“So who do you know here?”
Hidely-ho neighboreenos!
Whats happening? Well, turmoil is afoot, and there is a Balrog in the woodpile! Good thing the glowing mushrooms will lobotomize the pain away…
All is topsy turvey in the wild north, even by the wild standards the wild north enjoys wildly. Evil is hunted in many places, and master in the rest. Silverymoon is cut off from the southern lands by hordes of orcs, and more are pouring out of the greypeak mountains and assulting the outlying towns of Loudwater, Zelbross and Daggerford.
With Neverwinter a smoking crater, the last leash on Luskan has been loosed. The pirate captains have fielded a large navy and are patrolling the frozen seas in force, sweeping far enough south to endanger the shipping lines ‘tween Waterdeep and the Moonshae Isles. Simultaneously, it seems that somem sort of accord has been reached with several of the barbarian tribes that inhabit the edges of the Spine of the World, for they are leading small patrols of trolls through secret frozen passages to fall upon outlying settlements.
This seems to have largely been a feint designed to fragment the northern forces that have been strteched thin by the emergence of the demon horde. A strong warband led by Emor the Evil, a cleric of the Golden Orb sect of the Tharzidunian death cult has pushed south, trapping a small band of paladins in a pincer movement apparently coordinated with the demon hordes. Only two heroes were able to break free, but they wrought a horrible price, leaving Emor’s band limping through the Marsh of the Dead at last sighting.
The North is at a tipping point for if the conflict rages on too much longer the short planting season will have been wasted, and there will be no food in the coming year. If wholesale depopulation of the North was the intended goal, then it may not matter whether or not the demons are vanquished in the end.
Still, this is all a distant murmur inthe ears of the wanderers as they trek through the shining sands. Perhaps this city will provide succor, perhaps it will provide an opportuinity to roll a new charcter. Who can say?
In the name of the Funions, the d20 and the Mountain Dew…go in peace – or leave in pieces.
Remember, the blade is quicker then the craft!