In Hextor's Name (Completed 22 Oct 2004)

Kull's First Report - Part 9

I will not trouble you with the details of our escape from the island. Suffice to say that we discovered the monks' old vessel - a larger and (once repaired) more sea-worthy vessel than the boat on which we had arrived. Originally, it was half-submerged in several feet of water, but between them, Zalich and the navigator were able to work out a method to get it afloat once more.

I went through the store room of the monastery in great detail, finding every container that was capable of holding water. Once we set off, we would have no source of fresh water other than magic: the better the stockpile we could begin with, the better.

In all, the repairs took about a week. Then, with the boat as heavily laden with provisions as we dared, we set off across the ocean. The navigator's sextant had survived our journey to the island, and he claimed to have a rough idea of where we were. Knowing nothing of the sea ourselves, we had little option but to trust him. Zalich seemed to believe the boy's claims, and despite his physical weakness, the halfling is intelligent and reliable. I did not believe he would have been easily fooled.

It proved in time that the navigator's estimate of our position was correct. After several days of sailing, we came in sight of a rocky, rather bleak-looking shoreline. We could, however, see a road on the cliffs above the stony beach, which meant that there must be civilisation of some kind.

Making landfall, I led the way up to the top of the cliffs, then looked out in each direction, searching for some sign of the closest settlement. Meanwhile, the druid's wolf - a most unpleasant companion on such a crowded trip - roamed around the area, sniffing at the dirt and 'marking' everything it passed. Filthy creature.

A steady rain had started as we climbed the cliff, and there was no way to distinguish one direction from the other. The road, muddy and seemingly rarely-used, offered no clue, while any chimney smoke or similar distant sign was lost in the falling rain.

My original destination had lain to the south of our current position - or at least, the position the navigator believed us to be in. Thus, I turned south, trusting to Hextor to guide my journey. Behind me, I could hear the others fall into line, slipping and sliding as they followed me along the muddy road. We had travelled only a few minutes when Zalich - digging into his pack for some item or another - fell, dislocating his arm. Magic lessened the pain, but the limb still had to be bound tightly, so that it would heal correctly. In the mean time, he would not be able to use his spells.

This was a discouraging start to the journey, but I did not allow it to dissuade me from pressing on. Hextor does not look kindly on those who lack the strength to face adversity. And within an hour, this perseverance had paid off. I reached a crest in the road, and - looking out through the rain - saw a village on the lowlands ahead. There were sheep - looking as bedraggled and damp as we had become - on the hillside below me.

I did not then know its name, but I had come to the village of Saltmarsh.
 
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And we are now at the point were Arwink vanished from the session.

Good way to do that Cap, very effective for a mage. Was that your idea, the DM's, or his?
 

Lela said:
Good way to do that Cap, very effective for a mage. Was that your idea, the DM's, or his?

arwink actually dislocated his arm in real life, and - in a haze of painkillers - forgot the game. I simply decided to convert the reality into the fantasy :)
 

Capellan said:


arwink actually dislocated his arm in real life, and - in a haze of painkillers - forgot the game. I simply decided to convert the reality into the fantasy :)

Not my best weekend, all up :)

AT least it gives me a chance to catch up on the updates.
 


Lela said:
I'm not sure exactly how to respond to that. Though I will send my sympathy to arwink. That must suck,

It was a while ago, over a month, so I'm all healed now. And at the time, especially within the context of that weekend, it didn't seem so bad. One of my friends spent three days thinking her father was killed in a train crash around that time, so I was content to get away with a sore arm :)

(Besides, it was my own fault. Damn beer and aging sneakers)
 


Horacio said:
Time for another update, folks ;)

It'll probably take a while. Neither Capellan or I have much time to game, let along write at the moment.

We are playing today, though, so there's always the chance one of us will be inspired :D
 

Kull's First Report - Part 10

There proved to be little to distinguish this settlement from the hundreds of other small villages that dot the land. It had the same run-down buildings, weak religion, indolent sheriff and undisciplined children that blight so many townships around the land.

Once accommodation had been found, however, it became clear that I would be stuck in Saltmarsh for some time. No trade caravans were scheduled to leave in the next week, and the inclement weather would have made travel without shelter - which I wholly lacked after the shipwreck - a miserable and dangerous proposition.

I was at least able to find a trader in town who was willing to purchase a number of the goods that I had recovered from the island monastery's store room. I had no liking for the merchant - an oily and sycophantic individual of slug-like appearance - but in the circumstances his prices were not too extortionate.

As is typical of small towns, the efforts made toward defence and protection were negligible. There was not even an attempt to clear the land around the settlement, let alone a stockade, and the 'militia' proved to comprise a sheriff who never left his office and a handful of volunteers who never trained. Given a dozen disciplined men, I could have taken the town in an hour. I attempted to persuade the sheriff of the need to improve the town's readiness, but it was obvious from his attitude that he had no intention of doing so.

My attempts to warn the sheriff did accomplish one thing, however. In a transparent attempt to distract me, he recounted a number of local legends involving a ruined house on a nearby cliff. These were the usual nonsense about 'strange lights', 'apparitions' and the like, and I did not attribute much credence to them. However, there would certainly be nothing lost by investigating the tales, if only to disprove them and to show the worth of Hextor in comparison to the weak superstitions of their current beliefs.

Accordingly, I have broached the matter with my companions from the shipwreck. Though they do not yet embrace the wisdom and discipline of Hextor's teachings, some of them at least have useful skills, and can do work in His name, whether they realise it or not. I lead them to the ruin on the morrow.

In the unlikely event that my investigation turns up anything significant, I shall report again immediately.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist
 
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arwink said:
It'll probably take a while. Neither Capellan or I have much time to game, let along write at the moment.

We are playing today, though, so there's always the chance one of us will be inspired :D

It wasn't so much the game today (though I enjoyed it) as the fact that I am work at midnight on a Saturday night, that prompted today's update. :) I'm waiting for some jobs to finish on our server so I can check the output, and I figured I may as well do something useful in the meantime :)

A note about the update: part 10 of the 'first report' actually covers the opening hour or so of the second session we played (we've now played four times ... I am so behind on everything I'm doing ...). In order to maintain Kull's 'voice', I've had to omit recounting in game events that he simply would not have bothered to include in his report. Normally I could rely on the much chattier and informal Zalich log entries to cover those gaps, but of course arwink missed this session.

So, a quick summary of some of the events that Kull omitted:

- meeting a shepherd as we entered the town, who told us a bit about Saltmarsh (he later turned out to be the mayor)
- children following us around town, aping our equipment and appearance with household items: cooking pots for helmets, sticks in place of swords, etc
- Troilan accidentally propositioning the local priest of Pelor (actually, it was a perfectly innocent question - Brodnak's player just decided to take it out of context :D )
- the true extent of the merchant's oiliness and hand-wringing sycophancy
- Brodnak drawing the attention of the town's 'lady of the night', and his player's depiction of the 'innocent savage' faced with a rather unexpected proposition
- a long conversation with the barkeep in which we quizzed him for more details about the ruined house
- and lots of other 'flavour' that Kull unfortunately considers to be a waste of time including in his report
 

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