DayTripper
Explorer
This story hour is supported by blog entries for further background, explanation and crunch behind the campaign
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Oerth, Flanaess, Vesve Forest, Earthday 13th Readying CY585
As the Greyhawk Wars drift into a negotiated end, a strange meeting takes place on the Ironstead Road in the southern portion of disputed Vesve Forest. East of Flameflower, 2 adventurers – the illustrious halfling rogue, Lindal Tosscoble (of the famed line of Tosscobles), and dour gnomish cleric of Ulaa, Ulfur Svirrir (recently escaped, branded, from a Dark Domain) – search for a missing gnomish caravan travelling from Verbeeg Hill through the forest to Chendle in Furyondy. The merchant caravans passed through Flameflower on schedule a few days ago but never reached the village of Ironstead to the south and east of Flameflower.
Heroically, they have set off down the Ironstead Road in search of the missing caravan. Heroically? Yes, Vesve isn’t as safe as it was before the wars. Iuz lays claim to much of the eastern part of the forest and there are roving bands of humanoids (and worse) to back up his claim. Most skirmishing takes place to the north and east of Flameflower, but not all…
As they walk along the road, ahead lies an excellent combination of terrain for an ambush and within this kill zone lies the ruin of a gnomish caravan. Signs of blood and battle abound. Yet as they approach the overturned wagons they hear the end of a one-side conversation, muffled by tree and wreck. Then from amongst the remains they spy a man or some manner of humanoid picking its way through the caravans, no doubt looting.
The man is strange, tall but gaunt and grey, shambolic and confused like some zombie or possessed-being. His eyes are sunken and dark, his skin waxy and lifeless. He is lightly clothed in workman’s garb and clearly no woodsman. He carries but an unsheathed longsword that glitters in the weak, sunlight of early spring like some sun-kissed jewel. The sword is a beautiful point of light in a dark forest at the end of winter amongst a scene of death. Who the man was talking to remains a mystery as no-one else can be seen or heard.
The two heroes step-out to confront this creature, recognising it as an undead revenant – dangerous, driven creatures brought back from beyond the grave for some purpose fair or foul. Disturbingly, the creature, clearly once human, wears the lightning bolt holy symbol of Heironeous around its neck. Despite its sinister, shambling appearance, however, the creature speaks the common tongue. It is confused and unsure of its surroundings. It doesn’t know where it is or why other than to say that it has been tasked with finding the attackers of the gnomish caravan. It is suspicious to learn that it is in Vesve. It has a name, Tarlock and he is a paladin of Heironeous.
Ulfur recalls a paladin of Heironeous named Tarlock. From within those memories kept locked away from the times he spent trapped within the Domains of Dread. He recalls travelling with Tarlock the human, not Tarlock the undead revenant. The old gnome unconsciously scratches the branding scar that dominates his face, a parting gift from the last land he visited in the Misty Realms, Vechor, where they took exception to the users of magic. He grimaces at the bitter irony of meeting Tarlock again; both survivors but both scarred. Tarlock remembers him not one jot.
An uneasy alliance breaks out though suspicions on both sides remain. One side distrusting an undead creature the other distrusting everything he has recently experienced: a return to his home world, the word of an angel with whom he just spoke, his lack of coherent memory. Only his faith in Heironeous keeps Tarlock going.
The raiders left a wide trail through the forest, either very confident or very stupid. The trio follow the trail. It takes them in a north-easterly direction into the forest. A few hours later and night falls. A camp is made and a watch set. Tarlock’s red glowing eyes watch through the night. During the night the group are attacked by werewolves. Six of the beasts in man-wolf form burst from the undergrowth to attack with hefty clubs. The werewolves are tough; the party undisciplined in fighting together; they are split apart, surrounded and pursued through the trees.
Lindal’s agility keeps him out of danger and his accurate dagger thrusts eventually begin to toll on the lycanthropes. Ulfur’s clerical magic keeps him out of the fray as he attacks from range and expends his magic in healing. Tarlock takes the brunt of the attacks. Unarmoured as he is the sickening thump of wood on flesh is heard again and again. A normal man would have been long killed by the relentless battering he takes but his undead nature punctuated with clerical healing keeps him from falling.
Eventually, with four of the werewolves slain the remainder retreat leaving the forest night quiet once more.
The next day the trail leads to stranger hunting grounds yet: the lair of a demonic phaseweb spider, its invisible, teleporting webs and its two hunting partners, a pair of bar-lgura demons. Despite their home advantage, the demons are dispatched leaving only the questions as to why they were here? Iuz’s influence grows even into the heart of Vesve.
Finally the trail comes to an end. It joins a wider game trail that leads to one of the most spectacular and forgotten about ancient sites in Vesve: the Serpent Mound. This huge, artificial hill sits in a wide clearing. Made by ancient elves, the coils of a giant serpent are carved into the hill sides with the serpent’s mouth at the top. History tells that the mound was used by the ancient elves for honoured burial ceremonies with the valiant dead being interred within the hill.
It has long been abandoned by the elves but now is used by another tribe. A large tribe of bullywugs seems to have made the mound their home. Clearly, the bullywugs are well armed and well organised – very unusual traits for bullywugs. They have set tall watchtowers atop the mound to give a commanding view of the surrounding area. They have trained wyverns to patrol the skies. They are entrenched and probably up to something other than raiding gnomish caravans.
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Oerth, Flanaess, Vesve Forest, Earthday 13th Readying CY585
As the Greyhawk Wars drift into a negotiated end, a strange meeting takes place on the Ironstead Road in the southern portion of disputed Vesve Forest. East of Flameflower, 2 adventurers – the illustrious halfling rogue, Lindal Tosscoble (of the famed line of Tosscobles), and dour gnomish cleric of Ulaa, Ulfur Svirrir (recently escaped, branded, from a Dark Domain) – search for a missing gnomish caravan travelling from Verbeeg Hill through the forest to Chendle in Furyondy. The merchant caravans passed through Flameflower on schedule a few days ago but never reached the village of Ironstead to the south and east of Flameflower.
Heroically, they have set off down the Ironstead Road in search of the missing caravan. Heroically? Yes, Vesve isn’t as safe as it was before the wars. Iuz lays claim to much of the eastern part of the forest and there are roving bands of humanoids (and worse) to back up his claim. Most skirmishing takes place to the north and east of Flameflower, but not all…
As they walk along the road, ahead lies an excellent combination of terrain for an ambush and within this kill zone lies the ruin of a gnomish caravan. Signs of blood and battle abound. Yet as they approach the overturned wagons they hear the end of a one-side conversation, muffled by tree and wreck. Then from amongst the remains they spy a man or some manner of humanoid picking its way through the caravans, no doubt looting.
The man is strange, tall but gaunt and grey, shambolic and confused like some zombie or possessed-being. His eyes are sunken and dark, his skin waxy and lifeless. He is lightly clothed in workman’s garb and clearly no woodsman. He carries but an unsheathed longsword that glitters in the weak, sunlight of early spring like some sun-kissed jewel. The sword is a beautiful point of light in a dark forest at the end of winter amongst a scene of death. Who the man was talking to remains a mystery as no-one else can be seen or heard.
The two heroes step-out to confront this creature, recognising it as an undead revenant – dangerous, driven creatures brought back from beyond the grave for some purpose fair or foul. Disturbingly, the creature, clearly once human, wears the lightning bolt holy symbol of Heironeous around its neck. Despite its sinister, shambling appearance, however, the creature speaks the common tongue. It is confused and unsure of its surroundings. It doesn’t know where it is or why other than to say that it has been tasked with finding the attackers of the gnomish caravan. It is suspicious to learn that it is in Vesve. It has a name, Tarlock and he is a paladin of Heironeous.
Ulfur recalls a paladin of Heironeous named Tarlock. From within those memories kept locked away from the times he spent trapped within the Domains of Dread. He recalls travelling with Tarlock the human, not Tarlock the undead revenant. The old gnome unconsciously scratches the branding scar that dominates his face, a parting gift from the last land he visited in the Misty Realms, Vechor, where they took exception to the users of magic. He grimaces at the bitter irony of meeting Tarlock again; both survivors but both scarred. Tarlock remembers him not one jot.
An uneasy alliance breaks out though suspicions on both sides remain. One side distrusting an undead creature the other distrusting everything he has recently experienced: a return to his home world, the word of an angel with whom he just spoke, his lack of coherent memory. Only his faith in Heironeous keeps Tarlock going.
The raiders left a wide trail through the forest, either very confident or very stupid. The trio follow the trail. It takes them in a north-easterly direction into the forest. A few hours later and night falls. A camp is made and a watch set. Tarlock’s red glowing eyes watch through the night. During the night the group are attacked by werewolves. Six of the beasts in man-wolf form burst from the undergrowth to attack with hefty clubs. The werewolves are tough; the party undisciplined in fighting together; they are split apart, surrounded and pursued through the trees.
Lindal’s agility keeps him out of danger and his accurate dagger thrusts eventually begin to toll on the lycanthropes. Ulfur’s clerical magic keeps him out of the fray as he attacks from range and expends his magic in healing. Tarlock takes the brunt of the attacks. Unarmoured as he is the sickening thump of wood on flesh is heard again and again. A normal man would have been long killed by the relentless battering he takes but his undead nature punctuated with clerical healing keeps him from falling.
Eventually, with four of the werewolves slain the remainder retreat leaving the forest night quiet once more.
The next day the trail leads to stranger hunting grounds yet: the lair of a demonic phaseweb spider, its invisible, teleporting webs and its two hunting partners, a pair of bar-lgura demons. Despite their home advantage, the demons are dispatched leaving only the questions as to why they were here? Iuz’s influence grows even into the heart of Vesve.
Finally the trail comes to an end. It joins a wider game trail that leads to one of the most spectacular and forgotten about ancient sites in Vesve: the Serpent Mound. This huge, artificial hill sits in a wide clearing. Made by ancient elves, the coils of a giant serpent are carved into the hill sides with the serpent’s mouth at the top. History tells that the mound was used by the ancient elves for honoured burial ceremonies with the valiant dead being interred within the hill.
It has long been abandoned by the elves but now is used by another tribe. A large tribe of bullywugs seems to have made the mound their home. Clearly, the bullywugs are well armed and well organised – very unusual traits for bullywugs. They have set tall watchtowers atop the mound to give a commanding view of the surrounding area. They have trained wyverns to patrol the skies. They are entrenched and probably up to something other than raiding gnomish caravans.
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