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Softwind's Tale: Companions of the Valley (upd 04/01/04) - REALLY!

Softwind

First Post
Bad Judgement

Sixteenth Session (Part 5, final)

The next morning, a guardsman accompanies the party back to the Sheriff’s office. There, they find a very harried looking Reg talking with two men. One apparently holds office within the town, dressed in official-looking robes, and the other appears finely dressed in apparel fit for wealthy gentry. Reg looks up as the party enters. “Ah, come in, come in. I was just discussing the matter of your actions yesterday in the townhouse south of town.”
“Fredrich here is the owner and landlord of that building,” Reg says, pointing out the man in the gentry outfit, “and Cierian is one of Merikest’s judges,” indicating the man in robes.

Fredrich distains the outheld hands of the party, instead directing his remarks to the Sheriff and judge. “I demand compensation for damages done to my property. It’ll take the crew weeks to clean that mess up!” Amid placating remarks from the men that the matter will be taken care of, he storms out from the room, leaving a startled party and a resigned Sheriff and judge.

“I had hoped it would not come to this, but…. Well, you heard the man. Even after I explained that it was being done for the town’s safety, he still demands money for the repair of the house. I know, I know…” Reg holds up a placating hand when the party begins to protest, “You were doing what comes naturally to you, and believe me, we appreciate what you have done here. But, well… Fred lives here, and I have to deal with him on a daily basis. Listen, there has to be a hearing, Cierian will be presiding. It’s a formality, but one we must observe. Please be here at nine sharp tomorrow morning. I trust I will see you there?”

With affirmatives, some grudging, Reg sees the party to the door. “I’m sorry friends, I truly am. It’s out of my hands though…”

The next morning, the Companions are lead through a farce of a trial. Even in the face of the evidence of a plot to build up and strengthen the kobold presence in the area, and the potential destructiveness of such a force, AND the evidence that the Companions were really only defending themselves from Fredrich’s tenant, the judgment goes against them. The Companions are forced to pay 2500 gold pieces in damages, and are instructed to report to the Sheriff their whereabouts when in town.

“Outrageous,” seethes Grimnyr. “We oughta abandon the lot of em tae thems that’s out in the woods. Er, if’n there was anything out there left…” he finishes weakly. Some of the Companions echo his sentiment, while Athena wonders how the town’s admiration of them went sour so fast.

“It’s not us, Athena,” Brynn says. ”It’s what we represent. And the fact that trouble just seems to follow us. Perhaps it’s best that we move on from here anyway. We’ll pay the fees using the merchandise already purchased by Oppol. We have the receipts, so there shouldn’t be any hassle. Then we can find another place to continue our search for home.”
 

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Softwind

First Post
Leaving Merikest, onward to adventure!

Seventeenth Session (Jan 03)

The Companions spend the next few days tying up loose ends, informing Ujaset of his vengeance (and receiving a final parting gift – a nice suit of elven chain for Skylar), finalizing purchases, paying the fine levied against them, and wondering where the next days will see them. And while no one in town mentions it, there is a general air of discomfort around the party.

On the day they decide to leave, a messenger by the name of Guy arrives and hands Brynn a request for audience at the Miners and Merchants Guildhall, Merikest branch. Curious as to what the guildleader would want of them, the party wastes no time in heading to the hall. They are quickly ushered into the office of Harncar, regional guildmaster.

“I have heard of your situation here, and your desire to journey elsewhere. Perhaps I can be of assistance to you in directing your steps, and you can return the favor by investigating a, shall we say, difficulty my Guild has encountered?” the old human behind the desk says, after greetings are exchanged. “I assure you, you will be well compensated”.

“What manner of, difficulty, is your Guild having, Master Harncar?” Athena asks politely.

“Financial, actually. Or rather, loss of income. We have lost contact with one of our most productive mines north of here. We have not heard from the miners in some time, or of the follow-up bands of dwarven scouts and warriors. Even another band of adventurers were sent in, and not heard from since. Based on what I have heard of in regards to your actions here in Merikest, I believe you may be the right group for the job, to discover and, hopefully, rectify the issue at hand.” The old man looks hopefully at the party. “What say you?”

Brynn steps forward. “We will have to discuss this amongst ourselves, and learn more of the specifics before deciding. A moment, please.” The Companions discuss the offer, and in moments, come to a unanimous decision to take the job. It solves numerous difficulties at once – knowing where to go, what to do, and exposes them to more of the world. Perhaps providing further clues to the whereabouts of their home valley as well.

“We’ll take your offer,” Brynn tells Harncar.

“Excellent! My messenger, Guy, will make all the arrangements. Good day to you all, then.”

“Abrupt, is he not?” the messenger asks the party, as they are lead out of the Guildmaster’s office. “Not to worry, he is always like that. Now, let’s make preparations to get you on the way, shall we?”

“Wait jus’ a minite! How much is this’n gonna pay us?” asks Grimnyr, cutting to the quick.

“Er, the payment for services is 250 gold, per person.” Guy stammers, taken off guard.

After dickering, the party is given half of the fee up front, to finish paying for purchases in town, and to lay in supplies for the trip north. They return to the Guildhall to see Guy has acquired a wagon with a team of horses, to carry the party and their gear to the Silverhall Mines, which Guy describes as they travel.

The trip takes several days, and the party learns more of the situation within the mines. Silverhall Mines has been providing silver and gold to the Guild of Miners and Merchants in Everlund for decades. Every month, a caravan loaded with processed ore arrives at Everlund, where it is readied for sale. Recently however, the monthly shipments have stopped arriving. A band of dwarvish scouts were sent to the mines when the first shipment was missed. When they had not returned after a second shipment came due, a group of dwarven warriors were dispatched. Again, no word came out of the mines. Desperate, the Guild looked outside itself for assistance, and a group of adventurers were hired to determine the cause, and find a solution if possible. They too have not reported back to the Guild. The leadership was getting desperate, and rapidly losing valuable income.

“And here is where the Companions of the Valley come in. (“That is your company name, right?” He whispers to Brynn. At the dwarf’s shrug, he continues) “With your help, I’m confident you can discover exactly what is going on in there. The Guild cannot afford to keep sending in people, and not resolving the issue…” Guy looks worried.

The party arrives at the entrance to the mines, at the base of the Nether Mountains. A chill wind belies the warmth of summer below, and the party bustles about the wagon, gathering gear, tightening cinches on backpacks, and gripping weapon handles tightly. The mountain seems to rear up before them, the mine opening like a mouth, ready to devour them. Not a few shiver, although from the wind, or something else, is hard to determine. They bid the messenger a good journey back to town, free up the horses to be left for them, and make a temporary corral for them in the mine scree and tailings.

“Enough grass grows around here, and that water seeping off the mountain side should keep them free of thirst. My only concern is of anything that may be wandering the woods that would find them tasty…” Genoa says.

“Not much hope for it. I’m sure they can take care of themselves. We’ll try not to stay in the mines too long, and check on em frequently. Best we can do.” Brynn tries to assure her.

“Bah, don’t need them horses nohow,” Grimnyr grumps, his backside twinging in remembered pain of previous journeys taken on horseback. “Either they’re here when we get back, or they ain’t.” At Genoa’s scathing look, Grimnyr finishes weakly, “But, we ken check on em from time ta time, I’m sure.”

Brynn looks to the sky, checking the wind and amount of daylight left. “We can make camp here now, and tackle the mine in the morning, or we can head in now. Day or night, don’t matter in there.” He looks to the party. They decide that they are not tired, but itching for action after the several days of bumpy, spine-jarring travel in the Guild wagon. Checking their gear again, they continue up the hill, towards the mine opening. The path leading from the mine has been paved with stones taken from the mountain itself, finely placed, an example of dwarven stonework. The twin grooves worn into the granite attest to the generations of wagons that have traveled the road.

The Companions pass through the mine opening, and descend a ramp leading downward into a large cavern, most likely natural, with subtle improvements made by the dwarven miners. Recent seismic activity is apparent in the piles of rubble strewn about the large underground room, and the remains of a miner’s shack is buried from a recent fall. The remains of a dwarf, dead some time, lay within the rubble. Grimnyr says a few words over the fallen, but does nothing with the remains, figuring his clan will soon be able to return to properly bury him or her.

The shack’s twin, on the other side of the entrance is untouched, and the party quickly makes use of the barrels of oil and lanterns found within. Rope and pitons are also added to their gear, in case of need. The other tools – picks, shovels, rakes – are left behind, but their presence noted.

On the far side of the chamber, the passageway continues, with enough headroom for the non-elves in the party. Skylar, however, does not much care for the cramped quarters. She has to constantly duck to avoid the low ceilings as they go deeper into the mines. Her shorter companions barely succeed in hiding their mirth, as a series of *thump*, *OW! %&#%&* is heard. “Plenty o’ room ta swing me axe,” Grimnyr chimes in, his mood improved by the solid stone surrounding him, and his tall Elvin friend’s predicament. “Grrr,” is the only response.
 

Softwind

First Post
Enemy mine

Eighteenth Session (Feb 03)

The mines show signs of extensive work, over the course of many years. However, there are no signs of recent activity, save for numerous booted feet of varying sizes crisscrossing the chambers. The party takes note of several mechanical contraptions placed over vertical shafts throughout the mine – upon further investigations, they determine that the devices are elevators, complete with iron cages, winches, and hand cranks for their operation. They decide to scout the rest of the upper level before descending deeper, looking for clues as to what has happened to the previous workers and rescue crews.

Brynn, scouting ahead of the group, is the first to discover a possible answer to their questions, as he is plunged into darkness abruptly; darkness that even his dwarven eyes cannot penetrate. “’Ware!” he shouts to the group, as the sound of chitinous clattering can be heard emanating from an unfinished tunnel to their right.

The party fans out, weapons at the ready, eyes and ears straining for any sign of their attackers. The noise from the passageway stops, and the pitch blackness at its mouth that covers Brynn does not allow for vision past it. The Companions wait, anxiously, for the enemy to present itself.
Brynn’s shout of mixed pain and anger spurs them to action, and they charge into the darkness. Grimnyr swings wildly at what he believes to be his opponent, just barely holding his attack in check with Brynn’s indignant yell. Genoa has more success, as she casts a spell to grant her blindsight. While she does not “see” the creatures attacking, she senses the vibrations in the air, and directs the rest of the party to their location.


Athena, practiced in healing under difficult conditions, and trained in rangerly combat arts, is able to locate one of the creatures, and deals a fair amount of damage with dual scimitar and mace. Skylar does what she knows to do, and shafts disappear into the darkness, striking almost unerringly into the carapaces of her target. Somehow, she manages to not skewer her companions while doing so.

Thinking to bring the fight out of the darkness, Brynn and Grimnyr separate and move away, hoping to draw the creatures out where they can be seen. Unfortunately, the darkness does not seem to hinder their opponents, and they feel several blows and near misses as they move. Athena takes advantage of the distraction to again strike out at her target. Genoa too wields her scimitar to good effect, crippling the creature before her.

Brynn throws caution to the wind, and steps back into the darkness, swinging wildly, but with precision, as he lops off several limbs reaching for him. For his effort, he is bitten several times, but shakes off the pain, focused on dealing out more destruction. He is aided by Grimnyr, who uses his dwarven battle axe to good effect, and manages to kill one of their opponents.

Abruptly, the darkness ends, and the Companions are finally able to see what they face. They are taken aback by the monstrosities before them – large insectoid monsters, with glossy black carapaces and cruel mandibles, resembling a strange hybrid of ant and scorpion, including the tail with lethal stinger. The group only pauses for a moment before stepping up their attacks, taking advantage of the ability to see their opponents.

The remainder of the battle is short. Shorn of their inky black concealment, the creatures quickly fall before the combined attacks of the Companions. They consider themselves lucky to not have been hit by the stingers eminently visible on now-stilled tails. Athena and Genoa tend to what injuries were sustained, and the group continues their investigations; now with the knowledge of what may have happened to the miners within the Silverhall mine. This supposition is strengthened by the discovery of abandoned mining equipment – picks, shovels, and lanterns, all damaged and broken, seemingly used in defense, but to no avail. No bodies remain, dwarven or insectile, at the battle site.

Having explored the first level completely without further incident, the group decides to use the elevators previously discovered to descend to the next level, to continue their search.
 

Softwind

First Post
Retreat into danger

Nineteeth Session (Mar 03)

The Companions discover that the iron cages that comprise the lift platform of the elevator were never designed for more than a few dwarves at a time, or more than a dwarf and an ore cart. Several trips would be necessary to drop lower into the mines. They decide that each cage-load will have some heavier folks riding down with the smaller, lighter party members. Grimnyr, Skylar, and Genoa on one trip, Brynn, Tombit and Athena on the next. Even so, the hand-crank occasionally gets out of control, and the party finds them selves dropping at a faster rate than anticipated. Mostly unhurt, they survey the remains of the wrecked elevator cage. “Not going up that way again” Grimnyr states matter-of-factly. “Even if we wanted to, not enough room ta get past the wreckage”.

True or not, his words are belied by the appearance of another of the creature, as it skitters across the ceiling from the elevator shaft, rapidly advancing on the party. Skylar manages to unsling her bow, and hits with several arrows, before the whole area is plunged into darkness.

“A dwarf could get tired o’ this,” Grimnyr grunts, as he pulls his battleaxe from his shoulder. “Let’s do it, shall we?”

The battle is brief, the party having learned from the previous encounter, and the single opponent soon lies dead at the Companions’ feet. It had scored a tail-strike on Grimnyr, unnoticed by the party, but the stout dwarf makes no mention of the weakness coursing through his veins, sure that his dwarven heritage will fix it soon enough. This was information that the party could have used, in a later encounter.

Brynn leads the Companions eastward, towards a cavern seen dimly in the lantern-light, held by Genoa. That same lantern is put out, as wet, tearing sounds are heard ahead. The party creeps forward, trying to be as quiet as possible. The scene revealed in the opening ahead confirms their suspicions. The half-eaten bodies of several dwarven warriors lay scattered before them, their deadly white faces (what is left of them) frozen in masks of pain and horror. Their armor, mostly chain, is twisted and shattered, deep gouges ripped from the flesh beneath. Several shields nearby show claw marks; deeply scored and scratched. Beneath the bodies is a dark brown stain, the remnant of their life’s blood. It becomes apparent that they died completely surprised, as many weapons were still in their sheaths, or slung across their backs. There is no sign of whatever caused the sounds previously heard.

Still cautious, with weapons drawn, the party moves to examine the remains closer. They determine that the gear that remains intact would be better put to use by them than by the dead, and collect certain belongings, including potions and a finely crafted battleaxe (soon discovered to be magical). Recent marks in the sand and gravel of the cavern floor indicates that something was recently there, but has since departed. Athena and Brynn both let the party know to be on their guard.

Thus warned, they are not surprised when darkness once again descends upon them. The first action of the druid is to cast blindsight upon some of her companions and herself, as the sounds of many chitin-covered footfalls is heard. The party sustains more damage this time, with uneven footing, and their foes’ preference for moving around more, using their tails’ longer reach to attack the party with venomous stingers. It seems as though the creatures have learned of the party’s desire to close with the monsters, and they try to avoid the devastating effect this has on their carapace-covered bodies as sword, axe and mace impact. It avails them little, for in just moments, the Companions stand victorious over the fallen foe. Some stand less steady than others though, as the venom of the stingers runs in their veins.

Athena is hard pressed to minimize the effects of the stings, and is assisted by Brynn and his first aid kit. They both worry about the dwindling supplies in those kits – the only means they have of diminishing the venom’s effectiveness. A decision is made to return to the surface, resting and replenishing supplies, before coming back into the mines.
 

Softwind

First Post
Need input!!

Nineteeth Session (Part 2)

Their retreat is undisturbed, save for a rumbling, as if within the bones of the mountain itself. “’Quake” states Brynn simply. “A fair ways from here, but big enough for us to feel.” They find another elevator to ascend on, and return to the outside. Karazak and Timber appear from the trees down slope, muzzles bloody, showing that they have fed well recently. They glance towards the horses, seeming to verify that the beasts are okay, before rejoining Brynn and Genoa.

“Did I just see that?” Athena wonders out loud. “Nah, they were just looking around, I’m sure.” Nonetheless, she occasionally glances over at the two animals with a contemplative look. Tombit busies himself starting a cook fire, hungrily thinking of warm food, especially pie. The rest of the group, after assuring themselves that the horses are okay and cared for, settle around the fire, enjoying the warmth of the crackling flames. They are unable to get satisfactorily warm before they are disturbed.

Crashing through the trees and underbrush, the interloper is revealed to be of giant proportions, its huge shoulders supporting not one but two heads. In its hands, it carries two clubs, each appearing to be either a large branch or small tree. It stops upon spotting the party, and then its two heads begin arguing.

“Smash” says one, pointing to the party up the hill. “Crush,” says the other.
“Smash!” insists the first head. “Crush!!” retorts the second.

“SMASH!”

“CRRRUSH!!!”

“Die,” Grimnyr states, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as he swings his dwarven battle axe at the ettin. The abrupt pain focuses the giant’s attention, and Grimnyr is caught between the two clubs as they meet with him in the middle. “Smash!” says one head in satisfaction. “Crush,” the other agrees.

Further words are forestalled, as the Companions rush to their dwarven friend’s aid. Skylar blinds one head with well-placed shafts, and Tombit’s fists pummel the wounded head into unconsciousness. The giant’s aim with its now off-hand seems hindered until the remaining head regains control of that side of the body. This avails it little, as strike after strike falls upon the ettin, causing it to bleed freely from multiple wounds. With strength diminishing, it tries to run after discovering these opponents to be stronger than anticipated. It crashes to the ground, dead, before it can take a second step away.

Breathing heavy, the party examines the corpse, taking the little treasure it carried – a few unpolished gems, and some coin, presumably taken from travelers in the area. The animal companions help drag the body to the forest edge, where the denizens therein would dispose of it shortly. Tired, the party returns to the campfire.

Fitfully, they doze off, only to be awakened by Skylar, who had taken first watch. “We’ve got company again,” she whispers to the Companions as she moves from person to person.

She points up slope, to several multi-legged forms moving in the shadows. A sound not unlike that heard within the mines comes to their ears – chitin! Having taken the precaution of wearing their armor as they slept, the party is ready for the assault when it comes. What they did not expect was the humanoid creature accompanying the large spiders, an ettercap.

Having never seen or even hearing of this strange monster, they were surprised by its initial attack, in the form of a sticky web appearing about and on top of the party. Tombit avoids the effect by tumbling out of the area. Brynn, Grimnyr, and Genoa are not so lucky, as the strands hold them fast. Skylar and Athena stand far enough away to not be contained in the targeted area. They take advantage of their freedom, and engage the enemy.

The large spiders being the closest, the Companions focus their attacks there, as the ettercap slowly makes its way towards them. Skylar puts her bow to good use in delaying the creature’s advance, allowing her party members to dispatch the spiders. The webbing does cause some concern, as those stuck within it find their effectiveness in combat curtailed, and their danger heightened.

The battle tide is always on the side of the adventurers however, as the ettercap learns much too late to save its life. With the death of the spiders and their master accomplished, the entangled Companions are released from their sticky prison. Time is spent cleaning their gear, weapons, and clothing of the adhesive material, before the group settles once more into rest.

In the early morning, just before dawn, the party once more is awoken by activity within the forest below them. More than one adventurer grumbles about the constant onslaught of disturbances; trouble seems to always dog their steps, no matter where they roam. Their complaints aside, they waste little time in gearing up for the next encounter.

From the coverage of the trees rolls a bizarre creature. An ape-like head supported off the ground by a series of arms and hands, with no visible torso or legs. Blue-purple fur covers the head and arms, leaving the grey skinned hands free of cover. All of the limbs are involved in locomotion of the creature as it nears the party. With a shock, Tombit realizes what they face. As a wee Halfling, his dam and sire had regaled him and his siblings with tales of the “boogieman”. A mythical creature (or so they thought) that snatches away bad little Halflings, carrying them away, never to be seen again!

After a moment of freezing in fear, he remembers that he is no longer a wee Halfling, and is indeed a brave adventurer! While the creature advances, he moves out to meet it halfway. His companions follow behind, with Skylar bringing up the rear. The opening move of the combat is her typical response to any threat. Shoot first, ask questions later. Or, in many cases, shoot second and third. While some of the arrows find purchase in the tangle of limbs, the creature seems to contemptuously pluck the shafts out and toss them away, its attention solely on Tombit.

It is hard to say who is surprised more when Tombit reaches the creature and attacks with his Flurry of Blows. Fist, elbow, knees, head – all are used in the attack. And many of the blows are blocked by the ever moving limbs of the blue-furred creature. Its return attack seems to grasp only air as Tombit ducks and weaves between flailing arms. This interplay allows the rest of the party to arrive in order to attack.

The boogieman, able to defend itself against one Halfling has a harder time with several dwarves wielding sharp blades, a gnome with a mace, and the attacks of the animal companions, recently returned from the woods. Heavily injured, with blood pouring out of savaged limbs and torn face, many limbs hanging limply, the creature tries to flee, only to be downed by a series of vicious open-handed attacks from the Halfling.

Tombit poses a moment upon the corpse in classic hero-victory stance, before unsheathing his dagger to collect “trophies”. “Just wait until Bombit sees this!” he exclaims, before the realization that she and his other siblings are still missing causes his jubilant attitude to fade. “Sigh. That is, when we find her again.” His team mates console him, and as is his wont, he quickly cheers up. His mood isn’t dampened much by the rest of the party moving upwind from him and his trophies, the stench of which is enough to drive off even the animal companions.

Due to the series of attacks, the ranger and druid request their cat and wolf stay in camp the rest of the night, to better serve their friends, should something more occur before the sun arises. They agree, and the remainder of the night passes without incident. The two animals seem to shrug, “What was the point” to each other the next morning, as they watch the activity in camp as the party wakes up. The Companions move slowly, tired from the night’s interruptions, and decides to spend part of the day outside the mines, rather than immediately returning to their task.

Athena and Genoa spend some time hunting for medicinal plants and roots to supplement their first aid kits, as well as loading up on berries and nuts to add to their larder. Genoa instructs Athena on some of the finer points of wilderness lore, and Athena reciprocates with tips on healing; application of poultices, proper treatment and coverage of wounds, and how to purge a body of poison or toxin. They enjoy the time away from the rest of the group, pleased to be able to relax a bit, and enjoy the surroundings.

Back at camp, Brynn and Grimnyr tend to their weapons, returning a good edge to axe and sword. They swap stories of past battles, as well as tossing back ale pulled from deep within a pack. Skylar prepares more wooden shafts for arrow crafting, while Tombit looks on, one hand idly playing with a hank of “boogieman” hair hung at his waist. As the party comes together again, when the sun makes its way to the far horizon, their discussion turns to dreams experienced the night before; and they are astonished to find that at some point, they had all had the same dream!
 

Softwind

First Post
Dream Sequence

You dream.

You are enveloped by a gray mist. Neither light nor dark. There is no sensation of sound, movement, heat or cold.

You float.

Gradually, you “feel” movement, and the gray lightens. Details resolve. You are above a mountain range, and moving closer rapidly, though there is no fear sensation.

You come to a stop a few hundred feet above a forest, surrounded by hills and mountains, with a river flowing through the valley thus formed. For an unknown time, you rest there, watching the wildlife moving. And their movements become faster, as the day turns to night, and then into day again. Faster and faster, the cycle repeats.

Only to slow when movement of another kind is seen. Several figures are moving out from under the cover of trees… a small band of rugged individuals, dwarf, gnome, and halfling. They appear to be scouts, each race moving towards their favored locations – into natural caverns for the dwarves, upon the hillsides and hummocks for the gnome, and the halflings – they wander all over the place.

Time speeds up again, and you see the rudiments of buildings being erected. Soon, more figures become visible, visible roads emerge, the forest is pushed back from the river and the growing settlements.

Then comes a sensation of force, pushing you away from the valley. You feel the need to look away, to let your eyes slide across the valley and into the sky, but you cannot. The pressure increases, pulses, throbs – then fades as your vision dims to the grey again.

You hover.

Again, you feel movement, and the grey parts before you, as you look upon the valley. With a shock, you realize that this is home! You recognize the settlements, the hills, the mountains that sheltered you as you grew. And you sense, rather than see, a protective arcane force over the area. Before you can puzzle it out, you notice that time seems to have started running backwards. The sun rises in the West, and sets in the East. Faster and fast, the days peel back. Days soon pass in moments. Then weeks. Months. Years. The settlement shrinks. The forest grows back rapidly. The river narrows.

Soon, no sign of habitation shows. Time continues to wind backwards, though you know not the span of years that is covered before the sensation ceases. The gray mists obscure details once more, although you know that “below” you, there is still land. When the mists retreat once more, you stifle your cries of shock at the land revealed. It is harsh, cracked, barren. You realize that while the land echoes your own, this wasteland could not be your home. The sun in the sky is not the comfortable yellow you know, but a sickly red, and much larger. Even in this “nowhere” of your dream, you can almost feel the heat of the scarlet orb.

You feel yourself descending towards the land below, not slowing even as you approach the scorched earth. At the last moment, your momentum shifts to the side, towards an opening in the hillside. You follow the tunnel, quicker than your own legs would carry you, towards a red glow ahead. The tunnel stretches quite a ways before eventually opening up in a large cavern lit by rivers of glowing material – you know instinctively that it is magma!

Beside the flowing river of molten rock are three bands of people. Each group is clustered around a forge, powered by the lava itself. And one group echoes your own race, if only in gross form, with the other two being like unto your companion’s races. (Halfling, dwarf, and gnome) Overseeing these groups is a shadowed figure, whose face is never revealed, even by the light of the molten stone.

The figure harangues the slaves (for they all bear chains and manacles) to work harder, in a language you know you have never heard before. Each group appears to fashion a rod of some strange material, and shortly, present these rods to the figure.

He claims each part, in evident joy, and proceeds to make what you assume to be, mystic arcane passes over each one, before beginning to join them together. There is a disturbance however, that draws the attention of the figure before the rods can be joined completely.

Near the river stands a figure, bathed in a clean golden light, with a commanding presence. Unlike the first one, this figure’s features are visible. It is a dwarf|halfling|gnome! (depending on your race – you view him as kin – but elves, humans, orcs, etc see the race changing moment by moment)

There is a confrontation between the masked figure and the illuminated one. The slaves run from the conflict. The masked figure wields his newly-crafted staff, but for naught. He is ultimately overthrown by the brilliant one, although not without difficulty.

When the battle ends, the rod is once again in three parts. The cowled figure is beaten, bowed, huddling. You realize then that THIS must be the Master. But you do not know who his victor is. With this thought, the bright figure smiles at you, directly. Whoever it is, knows you are there… And, you think, he is directing your vision. He nods, then turns back to the Master.

With arcane gestures, he causes rifts to appear near his four targets – the rod pieces, and the Master. With an unheard shout, the Master is pulled into the void – but not before he casts something of his own. The rifts warp, causing consternation in the face of the Other, and then the Master, and the rod pieces are gone.

Your vision dims. When it returns, you are once more over the valley you called home. But now, there is a presence there. Barely awake, but growing in strength as the years stream by, and you again see the places you called home.

You watch the events unfold again that lead to the razing of your home. The orcs streaming from the hills, the goblins emerging from caverns, ogres coming from the trees… and something you had not seen before. Gray skinned giants emerging from the hills, to pound the strong walls of Stoneside into so much rubble. Your heart aches, and you cry out to go to your people, to save them…

You awake.
 
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Softwind

First Post
Reinforcements arrive

Twentieth Session (Mar 03)

The Companions decide that they have satisfied the dictates of Harncar, Guildmaster of the Mining and Merchants Guild, and start the journey back to Merikest to inform him of their discoveries. As night is rapidly falling, they end up seeking shelter from the night in a road-side tavern/way station. As they belly up to the bar inside, they realize that one of the patrons is none other than Guy, the guild messenger. He is as surprised as the party, and ushers them to a table to discuss what they have discovered.

His manner becomes grim as the full realization hits him. Without a stronger force, the mines may not be reclaimable. He begs the party to give him some time to arrange for reinforcements to be summoned from town, and as an inducement, offers to not only pay for food and lodging, but also give the party the other 125 gold coins owed them. After a brief consultation with each other, the Companions agree to accept the coins and hospitality while waiting on the Guild warriors.

Two days pass before four men are seen to be riding towards the tavern. The shine of the sun off their polished metal armor makes details difficult to discern, and it is only when they draw their horses to a stop that the party can look them over. Their first impression is not favorable; based on the environment of the mines, plate armor is definitely not what to wear. And yet, it is in that very gear that the foursome is clad. Their superior demeanor, lack of delving knowledge, and names that closely match those of comedic characters soon earns them the designation of the “Four Stooges”.

(OOC: Even I forgot their original names, and they ended up being Larry, Curly, Moe, and Shemp)

Being ready to go for several days, the party quickly gets on the road and returns to the Silverhall Mine that afternoon. Knowing that time of day matters little within, they waste no time in reentering. They notice that the previous tremor they felt before must have returned in strength, based on the amount of fresh rubble scattered on the mine floor. With the assistance of the four guards, they make a quick circuit of the first level, and finding nothing threatening there; descend to the second level, 30 feet below the first.

The Companions, having reached the second level, watch in amusement and concern as the four guards, following behind, manage to destroy an elevator by first dropping, then having it abruptly stop upon the ground below. Stunned and not a little injured, they stagger out of the wreckage, to be tended by an exasperated Athena. “We’ve not even seen a creature here yet, and you’re already banged up.” They look suitably abashed.

The party continues onward, Brynn, Grimnyr, and Tombit in the lead, Skylar, Athena and Genoa in the middle, and the four guards bringing up the rear. After a short distance, they give up all hopes of catching anything by surprise as they listen to the rattle-clank of the guards’ armor. None too quiet before, the fall seems to have worsened the effect. The Companions subconsciously try to put space between themselves and their “backup”.

As they approach the southern end of a particularly large, worked cavern, they spot two of the insectoid monsters, maws buried in the decomposed flesh of what they believe to be a dwarven miner. As the guards close ranks with the party, the creatures raise their heads, looking at the adventurers, gore dripping from black carapace and sharp mandibles. Evil clicking issues from them as they abandon the old meal, rushing forward for fresher prey.

Neither Brynn nor Grimnyr is fazed as the expected darkness falls. However, the Guild guards are completely caught off guard, and sounds of fumbling for weapons and cursing can be heard. “Never had *this* problem on the caravan routes” one is heard to complain.

*WHAT??!??* thinks Brynn. *We got sent Caravan Guards?!? Greeeaaaaaat* The stout dwarven ranger tunes out the ruckus of the apparently inept guardsmen, and readies his weapons, head cocked to the side, listening for the approach of the giant insects. Grimnyr too makes ready for a charge, axe in hand and grin on his face. Tombit moves to the side, hoping to exit the pitch blackness.

Athena, on the other hand, moves forward, through the darkness, relying on her heightened senses to let her know when her quarry is nearby. Genoa calls upon her magic to grant her the same kind of abilities within the inky blackness. Skylar is nonplussed, but nonchalantly fires several times, her shafts scoring at least once, based on the horrible clacking that is heard an instant later after release.

Once again, as in previous combats, the party senses that these bugs *know* how they fight. The creatures close only to snap at the members with their mandibles, then retreat to use their wicked stingers on the next attack. Duck and dodge, weaving in and out of reach, the ant-scorpions manage to cause impressive damage before they ultimately succumb to the onslaught of the party’s weapons.

When combat has ceased, the party discovers that the four stooges are at least good at watching their back; the corpse of a third creature in mute testimony to their prowess in battle, although the deep cuts and scratches belie the ease of combat the four of them claim. Athena and Genoa tend to the wounded, and by their spells, the party and guards are made healthy and whole again.
 
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Softwind

First Post
I'm attempting to remember events that happened many months ago, with little in the way of notes. These last adventure posts come from running a module from Fantasy Flight Games, called "The Hidden Vault". A linear feeling adventure, which is okay in a dungeon crawl, with not much variance in the foe faced. Which makes for blurs in rememberances. I'm hoping to get input from my players, and flesh out the notes I do have, so I can post them and move on to when I *really* started making an effort to write down highlights.

I've been reading many other threads, from WizarDru, PirateCat, Sagiro, (contact), to name a few. They seem right popular here, and I'm trying to mold my writing style to that which makes for a good story, which they have done so well themselves. So, I'm open to input/suggestions/comments/out-and-out flames (well, no, not really, on that last one). I want to be able to convey the fun my friends and I have around the table. Please help me to do that! :) Thank you!
 

Softwind

First Post
Twentieth Session (part 2)

Tired, but not yet weary, traveling as cautiously as they can, they continue to search for more of the strange creatures, looking for a cause or a reason for these unheard-of insectoids to be within the mine. The further they travel into the depths of the abandoned mine, the more they believe that there is some kind of intelligence that guides these creatures, and perhaps allowing them to communicate to each other. Rudimentary tactics are appearing in their encounters, and strategies to try to weaken or separate the group members become common.
It is thus, in this near-paranoid state that the party comes to an elevator suspended halfway in a shaft leading downward, with someone or something occupying the cage. Harsh mutterings can be heard, interspersed with soft words in Common, too quiet to be understood. Genoa shifts form with her cloak of the bat, and flies down to investigate. With her ultrasound, she determines that the being in the cage is bipedal, about the size of an elf or human. Not willing to risk herself in her current form, she returns to the party and shifts back to her normal dwarven physique. She relays her information, and Brynn takes the initiative to learn more by repelling down the sides of the shaft, and entering the elevator cage. At first, the occupant is just as wary as Brynn, but once they determine that the other means them no harm, they both grab the winch and take the elevator up to where the rest of the group awaits.

In the light of the lantern Genoa holds up to his face, they determine that the figure is male, of elven blood, and wearing kit appropriate to a melee fighter. He introduces himself as Qonos Hulabalong, fighter and dabbler in the arcane. His companion is a black raven, perched upon his shoulder, under his hood, who grumbles and chuckles in a harsh language. When asked, Qonos reveals that he is the last know survivor of a band of adventurers, much like the Companions, hired by the Guild to investigate. It has been near a month since he has seen the surface, being trapped below by lack of light (showing his lantern’s depleted oil chamber) and the constant movement of the insectile creatures that now inhabit the mines. He had tried to leave many times, but found his courage failing at the last minute. At the party’s invitation, he agrees to join with them, to finish the task he was paid for, and perhaps for a chance at revenge.

With Qonos’s help, the party quickly finds their way to the third level, and secures the area around the elevator, in order to rest and recover from many long hours of exploration and combat. Having been assured by Qonos that this area is safe enough for the time being, most of the Companions drift of into troubled sleep. They awaken hours later, mostly refreshed despite the cold, damp stone floor they rested upon, and ready themselves for another day’s journey.

Qonos leads the party through the areas he had been able to explore before his lantern became empty, and they are able to dispatch several roaming insects before their presence is detected. Evidence of a growing intelligence is found in the creatures becomes apparent, as the party find themselves suddenly in the pincers of a trap. Lured by an odd glowing stone in the depths of a pool, the party works to retrieve the item, only to discover many of the creatures lying in wait. And this time, Grimnyr is not so easily able to shrug off the effects of the venom found within the tail stingers of the bugs. Others in his party fall victim to it as well, as their muscles lock, denying them mobility. Only Brynn and Qonos are able to avoid being paralyzed, and they finish the battle alone. Wickedly tired, they nonetheless remain awake, watchful of threats, as they wait for the venom’s effects to fade. When they spot movement in the group, they give into their bodies’ needs, and fall asleep. Hours later, they awaken in chagrin to find out a full two hours passed between the first movements and the complete restoration of freedom. The Companions do not hold it against the two, as they themselves suffer from sleep depredation. They all decide to find an area to hole up in while they continue to recover.

After, they satisfy themselves that the third level is reasonably cleared, and they descend again into unknown territory, Qonos’s knowledge not extending to the lower levels. The ever-present sound of water dripping is only occasionally masked by rumbles around them, as if the whole mine is settling into a new position. This resurgence of the tremors worries the dwarves in the party – should a large enough quake hit, they would be buried under thousands of tons of mountain granite. Repressing a shiver, they hurry the party up, continuing the search for the source of what they now called the infestation.
 

Softwind

First Post
Betrayal!!

Twenty-first Session (Apr 03, part 1)

Deep within the dark confines of the mine, at the lowest level, rubble and fallen stone litter the ground, making travel difficult. Scuttling noises surround them, bouncing and reverberating from the walls, lending no clue to their origins. The Companions stay on guard, abandoning quiet movements, defeated before they began by the guards’ armor, and the rough footing. Caution, however, is not set aside. Weapons drawn, they continue to seek out the source of the infestation.

It becomes apparent that the noise they have been hearing is retreating before them, leading them on to an unknown resolution. They follow the sounds until they come to a tunnel entrance that shows signs of recent collapse; within the past month or so, evidenced by the broken bodies of several dwarven miners and guards. Most of the flesh is gone, only the remnants of gear, and the shape of the bones gives a clue to the race of the corpses. There is an opening near the ceiling that seems to lead past the barrier of stone.

The Companions head up the pile of rubble and duck into the tunnel beyond. Brynn, standing in the opening, gestures to the guardsmen to head up the hill and join the party. He is startled when they refuse. “What do you mean, this is as far as you go? I’m telling you, get in there!”

“We have our orders. We go no further than here.”

Brynn squints, eyeing them closely. “Orders? Whose orders?” He points at the tunnel. “You know what’s beyond here, don’tcha? What do we face?”

“We have our orders,” Curly reiterates. “We go no further. Do not force our hand…”
With a growl, Brynn makes motions of returning to the cavern floor, but before he can act, one of the guards throws a spherical leather bag at him. He ducks back into the tunnel just as an explosion rocks the area. Pelted by rocks falling from above, he runs towards where the rest of the Companions await. With a roar, the ceiling above the tunnel collapses, forcing the party further inside. Before they can recover their wits, several ant-scorpions leap from ambush. The area goes pitch black, and the mobs descend upon the unsteady adventurers. Putting aside thoughts of vengeance against their betrayers, the group digs in for a protracted battle.

Without knowledge of how many they face, or exactly where they are, the party fights with fierce determination and some amount of panic-fed frenzy. They relentlessly push the attack, taking the battle to their foes. Stinger after stinger pierces their defenses, but by sheer will alone they overcome the venom coursing through their bodies. Blades running thick with ichor, bodies rent and torn, they yet remain standing when the darkness disperses. Even stout Brynn gasps in surprise at the numbers that they had slain. Blood streaming from her wounds too numerous to count, Athena nonetheless tends to others before she pauses to stem her own flow. Once eased of her pain, Genoa wields her druid arts to assist as well.

Tired, but determined, the victors plan their assault upon their betrayers beyond the ruble sealing them from the rest of the mine. Brynn’s eyes gleam as he holds up the helm they had found on a previous adventure. The rest recognize it as the item able to teleport a certain number of them at a time. At their puzzled looks and inquiries, Brynn explain that its magic can be called upon three times before it is exhausted for the day.

“Once, half the party is whisked to the other side, hopefully behind our foes. Twice, I return. Thrice, we stand in full strength again,” the dwarven ranger counts off on his fingers. His smile is echoed on his friends’ faces. Quickly, they separate into groups by total weight, knowing the limits on the helm. Brynn gathers to him Skylar, Tombit and Athena, the ones he knows can maintain silence if needed. Genoa, Qonos and Grimnyr watch as their friends disappear, then step back a few paces, just in case Brynn doesn’t quite remember the return location. With a *pop* of displaced air, the ranger returns. Another moment sees the group returned to full strength, together, some distance from the guards, who still stood watching the tunnel.

“Makin’ sure we ain’t coming back out, I figger,” grumbles Grimnyr.

Brynn chuckles, deep in his throat, a chilling sound. “I believe we should return the favor.” Then he sobers, and tells the group, “Nay, try to capture them alive. We must know why they sought to kill us, or at least trap us beyond.” With the assent of the party, he moves forward to challenge the three guards.
 
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