Menu
News
All News
Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
Pathfinder
Starfinder
Warhammer
2d20 System
Year Zero Engine
Industry News
Reviews
Dragon Reflections
Columns
Weekly Digests
Weekly News Digest
Freebies, Sales & Bundles
RPG Print News
RPG Crowdfunding News
Game Content
ENterplanetary DimENsions
Mythological Figures
Opinion
Worlds of Design
Peregrine's Next
RPG Evolution
Other Columns
From the Freelancing Frontline
Monster ENcyclopedia
WotC/TSR Alumni Look Back
4 Hours w/RSD (Ryan Dancey)
The Road to 3E (Jonathan Tweet)
Greenwood's Realms (Ed Greenwood)
Drawmij's TSR (Jim Ward)
Community
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Resources
Wiki
Pages
Latest activity
Media
New media
New comments
Search media
Downloads
Latest reviews
Search resources
EN Publishing
Store
EN5ider
Adventures in ZEITGEIST
Awfully Cheerful Engine
What's OLD is NEW
Judge Dredd & The Worlds Of 2000AD
War of the Burning Sky
Level Up: Advanced 5E
Events & Releases
Upcoming Events
Private Events
Featured Events
Socials!
Twitch
YouTube
Facebook (EN Publishing)
Facebook (EN World)
Twitter
Instagram
TikTok
Podcast
Features
Top 5 RPGs Compiled Charts 2004-Present
Adventure Game Industry Market Research Summary (RPGs) V1.0
Ryan Dancey: Acquiring TSR
Q&A With Gary Gygax
D&D Rules FAQs
TSR, WotC, & Paizo: A Comparative History
D&D Pronunciation Guide
Million Dollar TTRPG Kickstarters
Tabletop RPG Podcast Hall of Fame
Eric Noah's Unofficial D&D 3rd Edition News
D&D in the Mainstream
D&D & RPG History
About Morrus
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
The
VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX
is coming! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
Der Kluge's Wilderlands Campaign
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="reddist" data-source="post: 2957140" data-attributes="member: 5212"><p><strong>Session II: Assault on the Tower</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">The tower. It stands tall, perhaps four stories high and fifty feet around. The stone work is old, but not as old as the ruins we passed yesterday. Still… I don’t like it. The two spell casters seem just <em>delighted</em> to explore it, though they follow well behind Balderic and I.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Peering into the shadows I hear and see nothing beyond a stray mouse. The first level is hard-packed earth and it shows no signs of foot traffic, though an ancient stone stairway curves up around the interior wall. I shrug at Balderic and wave him onward.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Cyridon and Theros start poking around the walls, and Balderic stays with them, sword drawn. Bored, I start making my way up the stairs, throwing up the trap door to the second levels. Dust and bird feathers puff up as it slams, and light streams in from the windows above us. Balderic glares at me.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">I move up to find piles of feathers, deserted nests, and bird crap so old its crumbled to fine dust. Warped wooden doors hanging from rusted hinges cut off the stairway from rooms beyond. The door on the left leads to a dining room, complete with broken plates, smashed furniture and tarnished copper forks and knives. Beyond the table is another door, though this one is shut tight. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">The door leading left from the stairs opens into an office, of sorts. A couple of bookshelves that get the spellcasters excited, and a worn and cracked roll-top desk. Between the two of us, Theros and I work open the drawers, revealing little more than dried ink pots and the remains of rotten feather quills. Cyridon and Theros eventually dig up some legible scrolls and a leather bound journal, all kept by the long-dead lord of this long-deserted keep, a guy named “Pentolus.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Balderic and I continue to poke around while the casters finger their new scrolls like little girls with new silk bloomers. They turn out to be little more than the military records of this keep, though the journal seems to describe the final days of the men in this keep. Betrayed by one of their own to the Orcs, and trapped in this tower to die of starvation. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">While Cyridon and Theros try to piece together the events of Pentolus’ final days, I push open another door, one leading from the office. An explosion of feathers and the cacophonous roar of beating wings and screaming birds erupt into my face. I slap at the birds, trying to keep them from my eyes, but they have little interest in me and soon manage to flee through an open window. I think Balderic laughs at me.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">They were nesting in what looks to be an old shrine or altar room. A brittle cloth lays on top of a small stone altar, which is covered in symbols of a long-dead religion. On top of the cloth are some stiff, old leather bags, and when I pick them up I recognize the scent of dried herbs, still potent with healing oils and resins. Quietly, I drop three of these into my satch and replace the altar cloth. Bored again, I decide to go look at the closed door leading from the dining room.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Balderic is in the office, perusing through a series of books he found on smithing and weaponry, and I hear Cyridon and Theros are still debating the fate of Pentolus and his keep. I’m facing a closed door. Looking around, I try the latch and find it unlocked. Cautiously, I push the door open into a dusty kitchen</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">The kitchen might have been well stocked, if its utensils had not rusted beyond use and hanging herbs and sacks of dried goods had not rotted to powder centuries ago. The light streaming in from the window lights up dust motes, hanging in the still air. I can make out what appears to be two skeletons, men of this keep who had starved to death in their own kitchen, lying in the shadows, crumpled against the pitted iron of an oven.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">I take another look behind me, and figure the others are still occupied in “fact finding.” I loosen a chakram from my belt, letting it drop into my hand. Pulling my arm back I let fly at the skeleton, intending to crush it’s skull to fragments. I land a glancing blow, my chakram bouncing off, ringing first against the iron stove then the stone wall. As it bounces and rolls to a clattering stop, the skeleton and its companion both leap to their feet, eyes blazing a hellish <span style="color: DarkRed">red</span>, claws raking the air, and they rush at me…</span></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="reddist, post: 2957140, member: 5212"] [b]Session II: Assault on the Tower[/b] [SIZE=3][FONT=Century Gothic]The tower. It stands tall, perhaps four stories high and fifty feet around. The stone work is old, but not as old as the ruins we passed yesterday. Still… I don’t like it. The two spell casters seem just [i]delighted[/i] to explore it, though they follow well behind Balderic and I. Peering into the shadows I hear and see nothing beyond a stray mouse. The first level is hard-packed earth and it shows no signs of foot traffic, though an ancient stone stairway curves up around the interior wall. I shrug at Balderic and wave him onward. Cyridon and Theros start poking around the walls, and Balderic stays with them, sword drawn. Bored, I start making my way up the stairs, throwing up the trap door to the second levels. Dust and bird feathers puff up as it slams, and light streams in from the windows above us. Balderic glares at me. I move up to find piles of feathers, deserted nests, and bird crap so old its crumbled to fine dust. Warped wooden doors hanging from rusted hinges cut off the stairway from rooms beyond. The door on the left leads to a dining room, complete with broken plates, smashed furniture and tarnished copper forks and knives. Beyond the table is another door, though this one is shut tight. The door leading left from the stairs opens into an office, of sorts. A couple of bookshelves that get the spellcasters excited, and a worn and cracked roll-top desk. Between the two of us, Theros and I work open the drawers, revealing little more than dried ink pots and the remains of rotten feather quills. Cyridon and Theros eventually dig up some legible scrolls and a leather bound journal, all kept by the long-dead lord of this long-deserted keep, a guy named “Pentolus.” Balderic and I continue to poke around while the casters finger their new scrolls like little girls with new silk bloomers. They turn out to be little more than the military records of this keep, though the journal seems to describe the final days of the men in this keep. Betrayed by one of their own to the Orcs, and trapped in this tower to die of starvation. While Cyridon and Theros try to piece together the events of Pentolus’ final days, I push open another door, one leading from the office. An explosion of feathers and the cacophonous roar of beating wings and screaming birds erupt into my face. I slap at the birds, trying to keep them from my eyes, but they have little interest in me and soon manage to flee through an open window. I think Balderic laughs at me. They were nesting in what looks to be an old shrine or altar room. A brittle cloth lays on top of a small stone altar, which is covered in symbols of a long-dead religion. On top of the cloth are some stiff, old leather bags, and when I pick them up I recognize the scent of dried herbs, still potent with healing oils and resins. Quietly, I drop three of these into my satch and replace the altar cloth. Bored again, I decide to go look at the closed door leading from the dining room. Balderic is in the office, perusing through a series of books he found on smithing and weaponry, and I hear Cyridon and Theros are still debating the fate of Pentolus and his keep. I’m facing a closed door. Looking around, I try the latch and find it unlocked. Cautiously, I push the door open into a dusty kitchen The kitchen might have been well stocked, if its utensils had not rusted beyond use and hanging herbs and sacks of dried goods had not rotted to powder centuries ago. The light streaming in from the window lights up dust motes, hanging in the still air. I can make out what appears to be two skeletons, men of this keep who had starved to death in their own kitchen, lying in the shadows, crumpled against the pitted iron of an oven. I take another look behind me, and figure the others are still occupied in “fact finding.” I loosen a chakram from my belt, letting it drop into my hand. Pulling my arm back I let fly at the skeleton, intending to crush it’s skull to fragments. I land a glancing blow, my chakram bouncing off, ringing first against the iron stove then the stone wall. As it bounces and rolls to a clattering stop, the skeleton and its companion both leap to their feet, eyes blazing a hellish [COLOR=DarkRed]red[/COLOR], claws raking the air, and they rush at me…[/FONT][/SIZE] [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
Der Kluge's Wilderlands Campaign
Top