Here's a couple of journals from the one character we have not yet heard from, Torfinn- Invoker of Thor.
This one is from the first game session.
Torfinn’s Quiet Reflections (Part One)
*First day of travel*
There is nothing more beautiful than watching the dull grey haze of storm clouds consume the horizon. Today will be a day for Thor it seems. I will travel by sea with my comrade Bjorn, I can’t say I’ve been terribly good company for the brawny priest, but we are still bound by threads of fate. Bjorn found me in the storm and gave me shelter, he asks no questions and expects no answers, for that I shall be eternally grateful.
*Two days from Fall-crest*
This Halfling vessel is well made, it almost glides across the sea. I suspect we’re ahead of schedule and it wont be too long before we reach Fallcrest. Isn’t that a troubling thought. While I find vale-folk to be “interesting”, It’s still hard for me….to communicate.
Darren Androsax is the opposite, he has spoken to me often over the last few days and while I don’t respond other than the occasional nod, he can’t seem to stop. The company isn’t terrible and…he is knowledgeable on various subjects, but I see fire in his eyes that will likely consume him and his hopes for reviving his family name. I suppose men like Darren were born to find Valhalla.
His sister Deryl is…..intriguing. She can’t look me in the eye for long without glancing to her feet, perhaps she dislikes me. Their companion, Bella seems to be a private person, other than exchanging names we haven’t spoken. Bjorn has informed me he intends to tease Bella to liven up the voyage, my comrade can be rather…simple at times.
*Inside the Blue-Moon tavern*
Isn’t it curious how humans behave under the effects of ale? Bjorn forced some upon me when we first met, but I believe it didn’t have the desired effect. In fact, that was the one and only time I sensed a hint of….disappointment from him. Perhaps he was hoping for a drinking partner.
Still, the company of Deryl has proved to be…stimulating, she somehow managed to fall asleep amidst all the loud banter and drunken songs. I question why Darren has brought such a young woman so far from home, but I suppose everyone has their own circumstances.
*The morning of the Orc camp ambush*
Sleep didn’t come easy last night, was it a vision? Or a simple nightmare? While the horrific images were vague shadows dancing through my mind’s eye…I was able to make out…a beautiful woman in tears and a hideous silhouette screaming in agony.
These fleeting scenes cause my heart nothing but…pain. It would seem I’m still naïve to have such worthless thoughts. The Orcs should prove fitting targets for me to unleash my frustrations. May all the brave souls lost today find peace wherever they may.
*At camp after successfully defeating the Orcs.*
We lost few and the Orcs lost everything. A fair trade. My new-found allies proved themselves to be powerful, brave and cunning during the skirmish, but for some reason I cannot be part of the excitement evident at camp.
I overheard Darren telling Bjorn of his heroic leap, I saw Bran and his brother happily tallying Orc ears and I even think Bella was smiling at that strange contraption that serves her so well (her clockwork crossbow).
But, there is nothing for me in victory. No pride and no glory…all I feel is empty. It is in this moment more than ever that I truly feel like an outcast.
Here's his journal from the second session.
Torfinn’s Quiet Reflections (Part Two)
*Standing guard at Winterhaven’s south watch-tower.*
I haven’t had much for reflection these past few days, Darren and Bran set a fast pace. We travelled by foot only breaking long enough for a simple meal and rest during the evening. The tedium has been…enjoyable, I found the time spent walking through the scenic wilderness peaceful…and refreshing. Is it selfish of me to feel refreshed while in hot pursuit of a murderer?
I believe there is more to this ‘Flagg’ than Darren and Bella have revealed. However, it’s none of my business, Flagg has killed innocent folk and that’s enough cause for me.
Flagg’s trail led us to close to Ragnar’s Hall, Bran and Darren thought it best we seek answers from the war chief. Bjorn seemed rather… excited at this prospect. How can I put this politely; Ragnar’s tribe was….interesting. The mixed aroma of animals, men and…feces was a little over-powering for my sensitive nose, sufficed to say I took many trips outside.
Although…I did notice something curious during our stay at Ragnar’s Hall. Vale-men seem almost bewitched by breasts. Bella had every eye on her as soon as we entered the stuffy room, I myself had to take a brief glimpse in a futile attempt to understand the fascination. Perhaps it’s beyond my mental capacity to grasps the simple joys of Vale-folk.
We continued on the path to Winterhaven until we came upon a besieged settlement not far from our destination. It was plain to see Orcs were about…for a moment I felt…nostalgic. Why is it that scenes of destructions cause such a stir of emotions? My allies suffered no casualties and only a few wounds, the Orcs fared much worse.
Unfortunately we were far too late to save the folk that were left behind.
I found the mood in Winterhaven to be rather sullen…although I got a few pats on the back from various Vale-men. They were preparing to defend their village; men and child scrambled about wearing rusty armour and dulled blades. I had no doubt Bjorn would stay to defend the small-folk.
My day was spent shovelling holes and planting wooden stakes around the front entrance. Bella is a….perfectionist. She asked me rather politely to re-dig the pit for her trap three times over. I didn’t complain, it was a pivotal defence for the front gate. If we lose the gate, we lose the town.
Amazing, Deryl has managed to fall asleep with the Orcs causing such a racket not far up-field. I spotted their brute shadows moving around the outer rim of the sentry pyres. Combat will come upon Winterhaven soon, I hope these stout walls can withstand the trail.
This one is from the first game session.
Torfinn’s Quiet Reflections (Part One)
*First day of travel*
There is nothing more beautiful than watching the dull grey haze of storm clouds consume the horizon. Today will be a day for Thor it seems. I will travel by sea with my comrade Bjorn, I can’t say I’ve been terribly good company for the brawny priest, but we are still bound by threads of fate. Bjorn found me in the storm and gave me shelter, he asks no questions and expects no answers, for that I shall be eternally grateful.
*Two days from Fall-crest*
This Halfling vessel is well made, it almost glides across the sea. I suspect we’re ahead of schedule and it wont be too long before we reach Fallcrest. Isn’t that a troubling thought. While I find vale-folk to be “interesting”, It’s still hard for me….to communicate.
Darren Androsax is the opposite, he has spoken to me often over the last few days and while I don’t respond other than the occasional nod, he can’t seem to stop. The company isn’t terrible and…he is knowledgeable on various subjects, but I see fire in his eyes that will likely consume him and his hopes for reviving his family name. I suppose men like Darren were born to find Valhalla.
His sister Deryl is…..intriguing. She can’t look me in the eye for long without glancing to her feet, perhaps she dislikes me. Their companion, Bella seems to be a private person, other than exchanging names we haven’t spoken. Bjorn has informed me he intends to tease Bella to liven up the voyage, my comrade can be rather…simple at times.
*Inside the Blue-Moon tavern*
Isn’t it curious how humans behave under the effects of ale? Bjorn forced some upon me when we first met, but I believe it didn’t have the desired effect. In fact, that was the one and only time I sensed a hint of….disappointment from him. Perhaps he was hoping for a drinking partner.
Still, the company of Deryl has proved to be…stimulating, she somehow managed to fall asleep amidst all the loud banter and drunken songs. I question why Darren has brought such a young woman so far from home, but I suppose everyone has their own circumstances.
*The morning of the Orc camp ambush*
Sleep didn’t come easy last night, was it a vision? Or a simple nightmare? While the horrific images were vague shadows dancing through my mind’s eye…I was able to make out…a beautiful woman in tears and a hideous silhouette screaming in agony.
These fleeting scenes cause my heart nothing but…pain. It would seem I’m still naïve to have such worthless thoughts. The Orcs should prove fitting targets for me to unleash my frustrations. May all the brave souls lost today find peace wherever they may.
*At camp after successfully defeating the Orcs.*
We lost few and the Orcs lost everything. A fair trade. My new-found allies proved themselves to be powerful, brave and cunning during the skirmish, but for some reason I cannot be part of the excitement evident at camp.
I overheard Darren telling Bjorn of his heroic leap, I saw Bran and his brother happily tallying Orc ears and I even think Bella was smiling at that strange contraption that serves her so well (her clockwork crossbow).
But, there is nothing for me in victory. No pride and no glory…all I feel is empty. It is in this moment more than ever that I truly feel like an outcast.
Here's his journal from the second session.
Torfinn’s Quiet Reflections (Part Two)
*Standing guard at Winterhaven’s south watch-tower.*
I haven’t had much for reflection these past few days, Darren and Bran set a fast pace. We travelled by foot only breaking long enough for a simple meal and rest during the evening. The tedium has been…enjoyable, I found the time spent walking through the scenic wilderness peaceful…and refreshing. Is it selfish of me to feel refreshed while in hot pursuit of a murderer?
I believe there is more to this ‘Flagg’ than Darren and Bella have revealed. However, it’s none of my business, Flagg has killed innocent folk and that’s enough cause for me.
Flagg’s trail led us to close to Ragnar’s Hall, Bran and Darren thought it best we seek answers from the war chief. Bjorn seemed rather… excited at this prospect. How can I put this politely; Ragnar’s tribe was….interesting. The mixed aroma of animals, men and…feces was a little over-powering for my sensitive nose, sufficed to say I took many trips outside.
Although…I did notice something curious during our stay at Ragnar’s Hall. Vale-men seem almost bewitched by breasts. Bella had every eye on her as soon as we entered the stuffy room, I myself had to take a brief glimpse in a futile attempt to understand the fascination. Perhaps it’s beyond my mental capacity to grasps the simple joys of Vale-folk.
We continued on the path to Winterhaven until we came upon a besieged settlement not far from our destination. It was plain to see Orcs were about…for a moment I felt…nostalgic. Why is it that scenes of destructions cause such a stir of emotions? My allies suffered no casualties and only a few wounds, the Orcs fared much worse.
Unfortunately we were far too late to save the folk that were left behind.
I found the mood in Winterhaven to be rather sullen…although I got a few pats on the back from various Vale-men. They were preparing to defend their village; men and child scrambled about wearing rusty armour and dulled blades. I had no doubt Bjorn would stay to defend the small-folk.
My day was spent shovelling holes and planting wooden stakes around the front entrance. Bella is a….perfectionist. She asked me rather politely to re-dig the pit for her trap three times over. I didn’t complain, it was a pivotal defence for the front gate. If we lose the gate, we lose the town.
Amazing, Deryl has managed to fall asleep with the Orcs causing such a racket not far up-field. I spotted their brute shadows moving around the outer rim of the sentry pyres. Combat will come upon Winterhaven soon, I hope these stout walls can withstand the trail.