The Westgate Campaign Chronicles - serial

[Carlo-One]

Trollsblood​

As the four adventurers carefully picked their way through the marshy ground, Dermot took the lead and cautioned the others to be careful where they tread, given his knowledge of the troll traps that Old Hamish normally set. Aerikoth, in response to a question from Rosten, told the hin that he had never met the hermit ranger; in fact, the wizard had not realized his daughter Belle was a former comrade, until it was mentioned. Rosten expressed his liking for the old man and his commitment to staying in the wild - although upon seeing a handwritten sign warning of troll traps, the hin said he would like Hamish a damn sight less if one of them got him.

Dermot called out a warning to hold as they came to the base of the hill where the hermit’s cabin was located, Rosten also spotting a large trap at the same time. The figures of Old Hamish and his dog Runner were barely visible in the mist at the top, as Dermot waved and called out a greeting. Hamish told them to scoot on over to the west and around the stand of trees there, to avoid the traps. The adventurers complied and after a funny look at the wizard by Hamish and a request from their host, Aerikoth unsummoned his Dire Tiger before they entered the open cabin door.

Dermot introduced Aerikoth and mentioned the wizard had worked with Belle - what Old Hamish had figured, he said, as he bent down to start a fire with flint and tinder in the fireplace. Aerikoth stood holding his staff in both hands, his unblinking gaze on the old man, as Rosten – the piratical hin evidently sensing the tension in the room – glanced between them silently. Lloria, ever-practical, piped up and asked if there was any news on the trolls. Smiling for the first time, Hamish said he had found their lair in a nearby swamp and asked if they were still up for destroying the nest. This earned a grunt and nod of affirmation from Rosten and further questions from the others.

The hermit ranger related how the trolls’ nest was in an old ruin, underground. However, he had not gone down into it, as his old bones didn't move as quick as they used to, so he had no idea how many inhabited it. Rosten perked up at the possibility of treasure in the ruin, while Lloria warned that sizable troll dens would usually have a large shaman leading them. Dermot said they could use the chance to fight something real and mentioned he brought some firepowder traps of his own. Old Hamish commented that it was nothing some intrepid adventurers couldn’t handle, especially with a wizard who was good at surviving things. These last pointed words, evidently directed at Aerikoth, earned an arched eyebrow from the wizard, who nevertheless remained quietly watching the old man, as Rosten again observed the tension between them. (Old Hamish certainly has not forgotten about his daughter Belle's personal decline after accompanying Aerikoth's party against the ancient lich Ashnakzeroth. Her subsequent death at the hands of trolls would not have happened had she been on form, is no doubt what he thinks...and this is perhaps the case. How deep will a father's love and hate go under these circumstances? Does he truly blame Aerikoth for his daughter's death? --C)

 

[Carlo-One]

After a short discussion, Lloria and Aerikoth’s caution and desire for better preparation overrode Rosten’s desire to immediately depart for the troll den. Old Hamish with a chuckle then offered them the dubious comfort of the floor of the cabin for the night, but said they would have to feed themselves, since he did not have enough stored for a feast. Aerikoth declined the offer and said he would be outside, if any wished to depart via teleport along with the mage, who evidently preferred less rustic surroundings for the night.

Old Hamish turned his back to the party as he tended the fireplace, rearranging a few of the burning sticks with an old metal poker. He mentioned again they would be welcome, not wanting to imply there was no hospitality, but confessing he had little in the way of extra victuals. However, he also mentioned that he had been saving some spirits for a special occasion, a note of enthusiasm creeping into his voice.

Lloria in response started unpacking her things and set up a spot by the front door. She commented idly, as she braced her halberd against the door as a blocker, that she would be staying the night, but would save any special drinks for after the hunt. She ditched the bulk of her armor plating, reducing down to the maille coat underneath for sleeping in. The rest of her stuff and weapons were kept nearby and in reach, with her armor resting atop her bags.

Their teleportation to the cabin having been a comparatively smooth ride, Rosten at first seemed to be minded to follow Aerikoth. He turned for the door, anticipating some kind of warm and magickal shelter to be the wizard's destination. His ears perked up suddenly at the mention of spirits, though, echoing the word with some eagerness. Lloria chided the hin for the idea of getting drunk before a raid on the troll den, but Old Hamish let out a deep chuckle and said that the old saying wasn’t “Eat, drink and be merry after you go into battle.”

The tracker explained to the others, the fire dancing behind him, that he used to have his own still at the cabin. He told Lloria he wasn’t a fool and that it wouldn’t do to have his senses dulled, the hunter becoming the hunted. But when among friends and danger wasn’t present, he asserted, a drink or two of quality could strengthen spirits for what would come. He showed that he had two small stoneware jugs left, saying it seemed auspicious to open one now and then one after, for toasting victory. Rosten was all for splitting both the jugs there and then, but Hamish with another chuckle said one would be good for now.

 

[Carlo-One]

The following morning on Tarsakh 12, Aerikoth teleported back to the cabin entrance and was greeted warily by Old Hamish and his dog Runner, who were out checking the troll traps. The wizard silently acknowledged their presence, then entered the cabin. Surveying his companions inside, he asked if they were all prepared.

Lloria got up from her seat, picking up her shield as the ranger Dermot picked himself up off the floor. As for Rosten, the clearly hungover halfling spit into the fireplace, nodding and grunting in response to Aerikoth's question. They collected their things and exited the cabin, Lloria popping her helmet back on as soon as she saw daylight. Rosten, once outside, lifted his hip flask to his lips and cursed as he found it empty, but then signaled his readiness with an experimental swing of his cutlass and a declaration that it was as good a day to die as any.

Aerikoth inquired how far it was to the troll lair, and Old Hamish said it was a short hike, not too strenuous. However, it was in a nearby swamp, which was rather nasty. The hermit mentioned he had not gone into the lair itself, so could not help with that. His dog Runner sniffed uncertainly at Dermot’s wolf companion Connagh, but both were then reassured about the other’s presence by their masters and accepted the situation.

Prior to setting out, Lloria shared her intention to harvest some troll blood. She had the necessary vials prepared, but the blood needed to be fresh. She would therefore try to keep the last troll in a group alive and pinned down long enough to get what she needed. Dermot thought that sounded right awkward. Aerikoth offered a magical solution, noting that if a troll could be subdued, he could change it into something more amenable for travel – the Quivering Thumb in Westgate was paying for magical creatures to use in the arena – and then Lloria could have as much blood as she needed.

The group was finally ready to set out and Hamish directed Runner to guard the cabin as he limped along in the direction of the swamp, pointing out where to avoid his troll traps. It was not in fact long before they arrived and Hamish began pointing out hazards such as swamp gas and snakes. He also indicated the spot of ground to the northwest, where the trolls had their lair under a ruin. Aerikoth directed the others to remain still for a few moments, while he cast protective spells on his companions. Hamish declined magical protection, saying that he would be staying topside and it should be saved for the others. The old hermit said that even if he wouldn’t be of use in the underground ruin, at least he could keep any swamp critters from coming down the circular stair after them.

After tramping through the filthy swamp and fending off some snakes, the five reached the site of the ruin and stood by the staircase entrance. Covered from head to foot in swamp-filth and grimacing at the smell from the lair, Rosten looked up as it began to rain. Lloria took a moment to examine the surrounding ruins, looking for any language runes or architectural elements she might recognize; however, the aboveground portion of the ruin was quite decayed and swamp growth covered the stone, so she could not tell anything specific about it. The four adventurers declared themselves ready and descended the noxious-smelling staircase, as Old Hamish leaned against a nearby wall, looking out for any creatures.

 

[Carlo-One]

The four adventurers made their way down the slimy stone stairs, the halfling Rosten in the lead, followed closely by Dermot the ranger and Lloria the warrior priest, her normally well-polished armor now decidedly dirty from the swamp. Trailing behind was the mage Aerikoth, whose constitution suffered from the poisonous underground fumes they encountered; apparently this did not bother the trolls in their home. While his three companions shrugged off the effects, the wizard was not so lucky and felt increasingly sick, although his summoned dire tiger was not affected.

Upon reaching the tunnels below, the lead group were assailed by a group of trolls, including one that was magic-using. Meanwhile, their poorly-feeling mage was mobbed by slimes in the back halls, with large shrieker fungoids adding their noise to the chaos. The three in front fought fiercely against their regenerating foes, using fire and acid to whittle their numbers down until they had the last one pinned, the objective being for Lloria to draw some of its blood. Rosten however accidentally killed it while attempting to keep it pinned to the floor, at which point they discovered Aerikoth was not with them.

The three quickly retraced their steps to find the wizard unconscious, having been temporarily overcome by the poison fumes during the battle. He was revived and the situation explained to him, Dermot shamefacedly apologizing for not paying better attention to their comrade. Despite Lloria declaring it a mission failure, Rosten contradicted her, gesturing to the gold, armours and weaponry lying amongst the bones of the troll lair. Dermot produced an amulet which he said had been around the troll chieftain’s wrinkly neck. He also noted that the troll priest had some sort of skull token, but the ranger was not about to touch that. Lloria chimed in, informing the others she had taken a look at it and identified “curse powers” on it. Rosten looked befuddled, prompting Lloria to explain that the object allowed its bearer to put a hex on someone.

Aerikoth helped the adventurers finish sorting out the loot, which was valuable despite the old armor being junk; the chieftain’s amulet turned out to be a luckstone, which enhanced all the skills an individual possessed, explained the wizard. Rosten pocketed it after Lloria scooped up the curse medallion from the dead shaman, then the four headed back up to the surface. Old Hamish was given a summary version of the bloody fight and informed that no more trolls were left alive. Lloria expressed her hope that one or two more trolls might be somewhere out in the woods, since they weren’t able to nab one. The group briefly considered ways to close the ruins entrance, but Hamish pointed out that nothing else would want to live in there anyway; knowing there would be no more troll visitors to his cabin would be good enough for him. The group then started picking its way back across the swamp, sticking to the firm ground that the old tracker pointed out to them.

 

[Carlo-One]

By mid-morning on Tarsakh 12, Aerikoth, Dermot, Rosten and Lloria had returned with Old Hamish to his cabin. The grizzled trapper, still favoring his right leg after the hike to the swamp and back, had a grin on his face as he removed a large stone jug from under his bed. He proposed a drink to their health and to the demise of the trolls, saying it should help clear their minds – and insides – of their troubles. The jug was passed first in the direction of Rosten, as the halfling showed the most obvious interest.

Lloria intercepted it and took a small swig, slowly and cautiously, before passing it along. Her helmet was off, displaying the hawkish shape of her brow and the resting-hostile expression it imparted even on a good day. Her expression was flat as it always was, though she evidently had much on her mind, seeming moody.

Rosten took a large swig from the jug, clearly more than his fair share, when it arrived in his hands. He wiped his mouth before declaring it was a crying shame that Hamish had stopped making his “poison”, wagering that he would have drinkers collecting the jugs from there to Sembia if he could get it made proper-like. The halfling suggested the old hermit speak to their dwarven companion Darrow, who was starting a brewery, before turning his yellow eyes to Lloria and chiding her with colorful language about looking miserable, when they were alive and drinking with coin in their pockets. (The hin is nothing if not consistent in his fatalistic outlook on life. Yet I do not judge, as were I to have experienced what he did in his cursed previous life as a pirate, I too would no doubt have been driven into the depths of despair. --R)

Aerikoth showed no interest in taking a drink from the jug Hamish had proffered. Instead the short wizard stood near the door to the cabin and spoke a swift word of magic while moving his right hand in a circular motion. Immediately a magical effect began cleaning the filth of the swamp and troll lair from his person. Within a short amount of time the wizard’s clothes and person were as clean as could be expected using his arcane skills. He then commented that there was likely still the opportunity to capture a worthy addition to the Quivering Thumb arena, since a troll might have been outside of their lair and could be found by a tracker. The mage also offered, in his usual calm, emotionless tone, to clean the others magically.

Lloria looked around at the others in Hamish's cabin, partaking of the moonshine or not. The warrior priest observed that troll blood was a powerful restorative ingredient, and that she had designs on filling several vials with it while cleaning out their lair, but that little skirmish unfolded like a flaming disaster. She declared her strong interest in getting to any trolls that might be around, in order to finish the job.

 

[Carlo-One]

Dermot took Lloria’s hint and silently exited the cabin to do some tracking of potential troll spoor, apparently the ranger’s preference rather than to pass the time with his grumpy companion. Old Hamish then ordered his dog Runner to patrol, explaining that it looked all quiet, but it was good to have him on duty. After checking briefly outside the door after his dog’s departure, the hermit forcefully expressed his hope that they got all of the monsters, pounding his fist into his palm, even though it wouldn’t bring his Belle back. Lloria shared her concern that they had not encountered a troll matron in the lair, although the warrior priest observed that might just be something particular to the Silver March troll tribes. Old Hamish was surprised and impressed that she could tell the sex of a troll.

Lloria and Rosten traded some barbs about the chaotic fight against the trolls, as the former complained about the sloppy strategic nature of the fight, while the latter was just happy to have escaped with his skin and some gold to show for it. The hin also accepted with thanks another jug of Hamish’s hooch. Ignoring his companions’ chatter, Aerikoth queried Old Hamish about the chances of encountering another troll in the wilderness. The hermit ranger was willing to bet there would be no more trolls for quite a distance, given the size of the troll nest they had exterminated. However, after the mage asked about retrieving a troll or other suitable monster for the Quivering Thumb arena in Westgate, Old Hamish said he would be happy to help, for a finder’s fee.

Lloria perked up at the discussion of the arena fights, saying she had a mind towards joining some of the fights. Rosten encouraged the idea, since the business was one ripe for coin, as the hin put it. Aerikoth noted that a former companion, whom the wizard believed was a Purple Knight from Cormyr, had fought in the arena for personal justice, but had returned there to see to some family matters. Lloria liked the notion of attracting Zhents or Baneites to attempt to kill her, stating she would relish the chance to chop them into pieces. (The Tormite priest's thirst for blood and action runs counter to our own Order's normal methods. However, as in the revered example of Brother Veran's quest to kill the ancient lich Ashnakzeroth, sometimes the fight must be taken to the enemy. --C)

 

[Carlo-One]

Old Scratch​

Around midday on Tarsakh 12, Old Hamish let Runner and himself out of the cabin, to see if Dermot had returned to the area from his scouting expedition. The hermit found both the ranger and his dwarven companion Darrow a short distance away, the latter complaining about chigger bites, sodden feet and armor getting rustier by the day. Old Hamish directed the two back to the cabin, where Rosten had been sharpening his cutlass while Aerikoth studied his books, the hermit mentioning that he wanted to check up on Lloria; the warrior priest had gone to find a pool to properly clean her armor after their time in the swamp.

As the two walked in the cabin door, Rosten was continuing to use a whetstone on his cutlass. Darrow exclaimed how it was a welcome sight to see them, after his time away at the Ironhelm clanhome. Aerikoth noted that the dwarf had missed a battle against trolls in the area, which the wizard thought he would have enjoyed. Darrow frowned and was indeed sorry to have missed the fight. Dermot shared the news that he had not found any sign of trolls - which meant there would be no opportunity to capture one for coin for the Westgate arena, as Rosten observed. Aerikoth explained that he would be able to transport it easily with his magic, if one could be subdued.

Rosten raised the fact they had the dwarf coronation coming up on the 15th of the month, along with another meeting with the Vulture. Aerikoth noted that they had a few days before then, prompting Dermot and Rosten to mention they could check in with Queron Ulanthar in Teziir if needed, to tell him that the wagons would be rolling again from Ironhelm lands. Dermot declared he had nothing else in mind, unless they wanted to go hunt a gigantic bear; the ranger had discovered the animal’s gigantic claw tracks and confirmed with Old Hamish that it was some sort of freak of nature – “Old Scratch” as the hermit called it.

Aerikoth observed that a monstrous bear could be offered to the Quivering Thumb for the arena, and he could turn it into something small like a kitten, after it had been subdued. Rosten thought it would be a lot of work if the coin wasn’t guaranteed, but after Darrow’s idea of finding some manticores was shot down by the wizard – who pointed out the danger posed by their spikes to an arena crowd – the hin declared he was up for taking the bear. Darrow shrugged and said it seemed a shame to kidnap a bear just minding his own business, but he would go with the group’s decision.

 

[Carlo-One]

Rosten then pestered Aerikoth until the wizard retrieved the magic map they possessed and it was displayed it to the group, the hin hoping it would show something of importance to the group. They all eyed the map carefully as it was unrolled on a table, Rosten stroking his hand lovingly over it while he peered down, as the hin seemingly had done countless times before. They seemed confused by what the map showed, in this case a new unknown point of interest in between Teziir and Cormyr, while a point at a known slaver island off to the east had disappeared.

After a half-serious debate about the possible presence of sea trolls at the new location, Aerikoth stated that he needed more time with the map to study it to discover what it does and perhaps the reasons behind it. The wizard observed, that the changes had occurred after he had taken possession of it from Rosten, noting that, as previously determined, the person who actually bears the map does not affect what it shows. The hin frowned deeply and declared that it was a torturous thing, as whoever created it must have known what a trap they were laying. Whenever his former pirate captain on the Laughing Boar had held the map, they would sail from point to point and butcher and flay whatever they found, if it weren’t treasure.

Frowning as he put his finger on the new point, Rosten muttered that it was not on any of the main shipping lanes and there was no reason for anything to be there - unless it was perhaps a rumored secret pirate haven. Aerikoth expressed doubt that the map would show something under the waves, so there probably was an uncharted isle at the location. This still did not explain, however, why and how the map was now displaying it. Aerikoth cautioned that the item was powerful and had previously shown places of ill fortune, so he asked to be given more time to study it, prior to them following it anywhere. The others agreed to this prudent measure, and the wizard declared he hoped to have a better understanding of it within a tenday, as he placed the map back among his possessions.

 

[Carlo-One]

Apparently lacking anything better to do, the four adventurers decided to follow Dermot to the part of the forest in which the ranger had spotted the gigantic claw marks of Old Scratch. While setting out from Old Hamish’s hut, Rosten managed to trigger one of the hermit’s troll traps still lying about the area, but the hin was saved from any damage by the small size of his feet, as the trap’s jaws were too big for him. Dermot cautioned that it was a bit of a walk, which was not a lie, as he lead them for the better part of an hour out of the swampy terrain into a proper forest. Aerikoth cautioned his companions that his spells were mostly not suitable for attempting to capture the beast, as opposed to dealing more permanent damage.

While the group was getting its bearings in the unfamiliar area, Lloria arrived, having been pointed toward their trail by Old Hamish. The warrior priest had finally finished getting the swamp crud out of her armor agreed to help subdue the giant bear for the Westgate arena, in the absence of any sign of trolls. Aerikoth stated that if Old Scratch were successfully rendered unconscious, he would attempt change it into something more suitable for transporting back to the city, like a kitten.

Dermot, appearing somewhat uncomfortable with the situation, nevertheless continued to guide his companions towards a cave he had discovered. The ranger commanded his wolf companion to stay put, however, so as not to risk him wounding their quarry. He noted some of what appeared to be Hamish’s traps to one side as they approached a stream, then crossed it to approach the cave. Dermot drew their attention to huge claw marks scored into a nearby tree, which he took as a sign they had reached the bear’s territory. Rosten fatalistically observed that at least they would have a quick death, while Aerikoth noted that it was an impressive beast, magical or not.

The ranger waved them toward the cave mouth as he advanced to it, pausing outside to search for any signs of their quarry. He then creeped in, as Rosten sheathed his cutlass and unhooked a wicked-looking club from his belt, muttering something about no killing, and the others followed. A short ways in, they saw Old Scratch from a distance, who turned out to be a big, old grizzly bear. The bear apparently had not detected their presence yet, but Dermot cautioned them that it could become scared by it, meaning angry. He was hesitant about proceeding, despite Rosten reinforcing their mercenary reason for being there. An incipient debate among the group was interrupted, however, by the bear suddenly noticing their presence and deciding to charge.