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Cydra: the Early Years
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 1506582" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p><strong>The Isle of Gloom</strong></p><p></p><p>Indeed, it was a new isle, risen from the depths through the magical devices of a powerful storm giant mage named Mabrack. </p><p></p><p>Mabrack, if perhaps not exactly warm to his visitors, was not precisely cool to them either, and after Malford brought up the fact that he, too, was a wizard, and that regardless of their respective sizes, the spell formulae they had were worth discussing and, perhaps, a little trading back and forth.</p><p></p><p>They stayed only long enough for the spell trading to occur; Mabrack did not especially desire their presence, and as he seemed to be fairly well in charge of the isle there didn’t look to be profit to be had by mucking about with it. (Clearly, our heroes weren’t about to try to fight the giant!)</p><p></p><p>So the ship sailed further on, to the Isle of Gloom. A small skiff took the party to shore, and our heroes disembarked and set up a camp at the head of the beach.</p><p></p><p>That night they were attacked by a half-dozen sahuagin. </p><p></p><p>The devil men of the deep were deadly foes, emerging from the waves and the dark night without warning. They struck down the two crewmen with the party before our heroes were able to drive them off, slaying four of the six of the sahuagin.</p><p></p><p>Cursing their ill luck (already), the party moved their camp a little ways away from the beach, up into a hilly area overgrown with tall grasses. In the morning, they set out to explore a little, and they met a native human named Ingen Jager.* Jager was a simple-looking fellow, with a large straw hat and simple robes. </p><p></p><p>“What are you doing here?” Lochenvare asked.</p><p></p><p>“I seek solitude and a place for meditation,” Jager responded. “There are few distractions here.”</p><p></p><p>Malford piped up. “What about all the monsters there are legends about?”</p><p></p><p>“Those are the few distractions,” Ingen admitted. “In fact, my meditations have been sorely tried lately by the trumpet beasts.”</p><p></p><p>“The what?”</p><p></p><p>Propitiously, just at that moment, a distant sound came to our heroes- very loud, but distant enough to be only distracting. It resembled the sound a broad-chested, very loud person with absolutely no skill might make using a trumpet.</p><p></p><p>“Those,” said Ingen Jager. A look of annoyance briefly crossed his mien. </p><p></p><p>“Well,” suggested the ever-amicable Malford, “perhaps we could help you with your problem, and in return you could show us around the isle. We’re adventurers; we’re looking for monsters to slay and loot to take!”</p><p></p><p>“Perhaps you’d care to join us?” offered Dexter.</p><p></p><p>Jager shrugged. “For the moment; at least long enough to slay the trumpet beasts. But I am an ascetic, you understand; I have no desire for fame or money.”</p><p></p><p>“Great!” Ed exclaimed.** “More for us!”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The trumpet beasts turned out to be horse-sized beasts with powerful claws and a protruding nasal horn that flared open to remarkable extremes. The party engaged three of them, and found them to be tough opponents. They had savage claws and a deadly bite; but in the end our heroes prevailed, as they usually but not always have. The trumpet beasts lain low, Jager sighed happily and immediately offered to escort the group to a lair he knew about.</p><p></p><p>”There are trogs there,” he told them. “Perhaps worse, leading them. This is not a kind island.”</p><p></p><p>Naturally, the party agreed, and headed immediately towards the lair. Just inside was a minotaur skeleton, which they defeated (mostly through Dexter’s <em>staff of combat</em>). Then, as they made their way inward, wave after wave of stench hit them- a smell like rotten fish mixed with vomit. </p><p></p><p><em>Trog-stink,</em> thought Lochenvare. He flexed his knuckles around his sword as they moved in, and soon an avalanche of troglodytes poured in at the group!</p><p></p><p>Gasping for breath in the foulness, our heroes cut them down in moments. Jager proved a capable combatant with his bare hands and feet. They searched the stinking corpses and found a few coins. Then they continued along, blundering into a troll.</p><p></p><p>The battle that ensued wasn’t pretty; not at all. Lochenvare dealt a few terrible blows to the troll, so it ripped his right foot off. As he fell, Able Steel and Ed rushed in, flanking the monster and hacking savagely at it. Malford hit it with an arrow of acid, and as it fell he finished it off with a <em>burning hands</em>. </p><p></p><p>The troll wore a crystal pendant, so at least there was some loot. </p><p></p><p>As they returned to the surface, Ingen Jager said, “You know, maybe I will join you after all. That was fun.”</p><p></p><p></p><p>*A guest player’s pc. He was one of the old-time players from my game back in the day, you know, starting with 1e before Unearthed Arcana and ending in the early 2e days. He was only around for a couple of games. There are lots of those...</p><p></p><p>**I just realized that there’s also an Ed in my halfling story hour. Remember, this one is Oedipus. Maybe I should just call him Oed or something to avoid confusion... but he went by “Ed,” so I try to honor it... hm.</p><p></p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> The Secret Origin of Rajah!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 1506582, member: 1210"] [b]The Isle of Gloom[/b] Indeed, it was a new isle, risen from the depths through the magical devices of a powerful storm giant mage named Mabrack. Mabrack, if perhaps not exactly warm to his visitors, was not precisely cool to them either, and after Malford brought up the fact that he, too, was a wizard, and that regardless of their respective sizes, the spell formulae they had were worth discussing and, perhaps, a little trading back and forth. They stayed only long enough for the spell trading to occur; Mabrack did not especially desire their presence, and as he seemed to be fairly well in charge of the isle there didn’t look to be profit to be had by mucking about with it. (Clearly, our heroes weren’t about to try to fight the giant!) So the ship sailed further on, to the Isle of Gloom. A small skiff took the party to shore, and our heroes disembarked and set up a camp at the head of the beach. That night they were attacked by a half-dozen sahuagin. The devil men of the deep were deadly foes, emerging from the waves and the dark night without warning. They struck down the two crewmen with the party before our heroes were able to drive them off, slaying four of the six of the sahuagin. Cursing their ill luck (already), the party moved their camp a little ways away from the beach, up into a hilly area overgrown with tall grasses. In the morning, they set out to explore a little, and they met a native human named Ingen Jager.* Jager was a simple-looking fellow, with a large straw hat and simple robes. “What are you doing here?” Lochenvare asked. “I seek solitude and a place for meditation,” Jager responded. “There are few distractions here.” Malford piped up. “What about all the monsters there are legends about?” “Those are the few distractions,” Ingen admitted. “In fact, my meditations have been sorely tried lately by the trumpet beasts.” “The what?” Propitiously, just at that moment, a distant sound came to our heroes- very loud, but distant enough to be only distracting. It resembled the sound a broad-chested, very loud person with absolutely no skill might make using a trumpet. “Those,” said Ingen Jager. A look of annoyance briefly crossed his mien. “Well,” suggested the ever-amicable Malford, “perhaps we could help you with your problem, and in return you could show us around the isle. We’re adventurers; we’re looking for monsters to slay and loot to take!” “Perhaps you’d care to join us?” offered Dexter. Jager shrugged. “For the moment; at least long enough to slay the trumpet beasts. But I am an ascetic, you understand; I have no desire for fame or money.” “Great!” Ed exclaimed.** “More for us!” *** The trumpet beasts turned out to be horse-sized beasts with powerful claws and a protruding nasal horn that flared open to remarkable extremes. The party engaged three of them, and found them to be tough opponents. They had savage claws and a deadly bite; but in the end our heroes prevailed, as they usually but not always have. The trumpet beasts lain low, Jager sighed happily and immediately offered to escort the group to a lair he knew about. ”There are trogs there,” he told them. “Perhaps worse, leading them. This is not a kind island.” Naturally, the party agreed, and headed immediately towards the lair. Just inside was a minotaur skeleton, which they defeated (mostly through Dexter’s [i]staff of combat[/i]). Then, as they made their way inward, wave after wave of stench hit them- a smell like rotten fish mixed with vomit. [i]Trog-stink,[/i] thought Lochenvare. He flexed his knuckles around his sword as they moved in, and soon an avalanche of troglodytes poured in at the group! Gasping for breath in the foulness, our heroes cut them down in moments. Jager proved a capable combatant with his bare hands and feet. They searched the stinking corpses and found a few coins. Then they continued along, blundering into a troll. The battle that ensued wasn’t pretty; not at all. Lochenvare dealt a few terrible blows to the troll, so it ripped his right foot off. As he fell, Able Steel and Ed rushed in, flanking the monster and hacking savagely at it. Malford hit it with an arrow of acid, and as it fell he finished it off with a [i]burning hands[/i]. The troll wore a crystal pendant, so at least there was some loot. As they returned to the surface, Ingen Jager said, “You know, maybe I will join you after all. That was fun.” *A guest player’s pc. He was one of the old-time players from my game back in the day, you know, starting with 1e before Unearthed Arcana and ending in the early 2e days. He was only around for a couple of games. There are lots of those... **I just realized that there’s also an Ed in my halfling story hour. Remember, this one is Oedipus. Maybe I should just call him Oed or something to avoid confusion... but he went by “Ed,” so I try to honor it... hm. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] The Secret Origin of Rajah! [/QUOTE]
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