drnuncheon
Explorer
Lazybones said:
Oh my God...
THEY ATE RUATH!
J
Travels through the Wild West: Book IV
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
Oh my God...
THEY ATE RUATH!
J
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Did I ever tell you how much I love the Realms? Thanks LB for bringng me back to my favorite adventuring spot...the NORTH.
I can imagine the snow-covered moutains and forests of pine..It is a stark, yet beautiful land.
Looking forward to much, much more adventure in the region.
I can imagine the snow-covered moutains and forests of pine..It is a stark, yet beautiful land.
Looking forward to much, much more adventure in the region.
Maldur
First Post
Oh stop about the eating of Ruath. Everyone knows halflings should be eaten with chili and rocksalt!. And as they were all out of supplies they wouldn't have had either. So the halfling is safe.
Great update, Lazybones.
ps If someone wants to look up the quote on eating halflings find Mary Gentle's Grunts. Its a great book.
Great update, Lazybones.
ps If someone wants to look up the quote on eating halflings find Mary Gentle's Grunts. Its a great book.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Book IV, Part 8
Journal Entry
8 Alturiak, 1373 Dalereckoning
It has been some time since I have sat down to write down a recalling of events in this journal, but for the first time in a long while I have some extra time on my hands to reflect on, as my uncle Donweddin used put it, “what was, what is, and what will be.” We’ve been here in Citadel Adbar for a full ten-day now, and while it’s good to feel warm again (and not to have to worry about monster attacks coming at any moment), I’m already feeling the itch in my feet for the open road. The dwarves are not unkindly hosts, but they do not take well to strangers and the guest quarters underground are cramped and sparse. In the above-ground portion of the fortress there is at least the comfort of the open air, but the pleasure of that is undermined somewhat by the constant noise and smell of the dwarven metalworks there. It runs day and night, and not without reason. Citadel Adbar has earned its reputation as one of the strongest fortresses in all of Faerûn, and it seems that Lariel’s words about the dangers of this region were not unfounded. There has been no violence since we’ve been here, but several of the dwarves I spoke with mentioned recent sightings of orcs and ogres in the area, and they indicated that such incursions were becoming both more frequent and more brazen in their challenge to Adbar’s control over the surrounding lands.
The fate of Ruath still weighs heavily on my mind, although I know that I must eventually accept that the choice was hers to make. One of my first stops on our arrival here was the temple of Moradin. It took some doing (and showing some of the gems that we brought back from the Isle of Dread) to get in to see the High Priest, but once we met he was not unsympathetic to our cause. Especially once he found out Ruath’s affiliation; it seems that the Harpers are not unknown in these parts. Perhaps Lariel and Gorath… but that is a subject for another time.
It took a fairly generous donation to persuade the cleric to seek the Soul Forger’s intercession, only to find that Ruath’s spirit did not wish to return to the mortal shell that we’d so painstakingly preserved for her. I cannot say that I am surprised, after all that I knew of her. I earnestly wish that she has finally found happiness, at Tymora’s side.
We buried her in the ground in a nearby valley, outside of the fortress. I know that she would have wanted that.
One consolation, at least—we were able to restore Dana’s hand, again through the good graces of the church of Moradin. She was very grateful, and none of us begrudged the gems it took to see the deed done, not even Benzan. As I recall, it was he who first suggested that we sell the black pearl that he found to raise the necessary funds.
With our clerical needs seen to, there was little cash remaining for our other needs. We replenished our stock of ammunition and supplies, of course, although Dana’s newly discovered powers makes the latter a little less critical. I’d wanted to acquire a new wand of color spray, as my current device is approaching the end of its usefulness, but no such item could be found here. The dwarven mage I spoke to was quite a character—he said something to the effect of, “we dwarves don’t truck with illooshuns and fairy charms, gnome. Now, if ye care to buy some real magic…”
I didn’t get any ‘real’ magic, but I was able to buy a pair of minor healing wands from the temple of Moradin. I gave one to Dana, and kept the other myself…
That reminds me of another thing of note. In search of an artificer who could help us to identify the blades we brought back from the Isle, we were directed to a smithy located deep under the mountain beneath the citadel, in the bowels of the old dwarf-built complex of tunnels and caverns. It took almost an hour just to reach the site—gods, this place is huge! We were introduced to a dwarf who seemed as old as the stones themselves, a venerable figure named Karroth. I suspected that this dwarf was possessed of a significant magic of his own, and the way he swiftly gained the measure of our items quickly confirmed my suspicions. He was particularly interested in the bronze swords, especially the one that we’d found on the encrusted throne in the cavern where we fought the kopru. He said that it bore an enchantment similar to the elf-blades once forged in Myth Drannor, that it had the power to protect its wielder from magic of the mind. The longer we remained the more interested he seemed in the item, and we agreed to return so that he could study it more. I spoke with the others, and we agreed that we had little use for the weapon—Lok has his axe, and such a blade is far too large for me. Benzan could use it; certainly it would have helped him in our clash against the lamia—but he is far too attached to his current weapon. Karroth confirmed that Benzan’s sword is possessed of an independent intelligence, but would say little more about it except to state the powers of which we were already aware.
Once he saw that we might be interested in selling the blade, Karroth grew very canny, and offered to take it and the other bronze sword we had found—the one taken from the leader of the tribesmen on Taboo Island—and in exchange he would improve the enchantments upon our current weapons. While I cannot help but think now that we agreed a little too readily, a bargain was struck and we left our items in the care of the venerable smith and his helpers. Benzan seemed torn, his unwillingness to leave his blade in the care of another warring with his desire to improve the weapon. Or was it the desire of the weapon to be improved, that won out in the end…?
In any case, the smith was true to his word, and Lok and Benzan seem pleased with their newly improved weapons. My shortsword bears a sharpness that it has never had, and it now casts a faint glow, not enough to read by, but enough to brighten a dark passageway. Dana’s kama and Elly’s spear have also been improved by the smith’s art. Delem does not generally use a melee weapon, but the smith gave him a half-score of crossbow bolts that he insists are of special efficacy against giants, a category that includes ogres.
Ah, I nearly forgot. Benzan and Delem have learned to fully use their new magical rings. Delem’s ring of telekinesis is quite powerful, but its magic is only usable once per day. Benzan’s ring, the one that he took from the lamia, has the power to cloak its user in shadows, making him virtually invisible except in bright light.
I cannot help but think that this item could prove to be very dangerous in the tiefling’s hands.
Delem and Dana appear to have mastered their new magical power. Delem, in particular, has achieved a great deal of power for one so young. I hope that he will continue to rely upon my guidance in helping him direct his talents in worthy directions.
As for my own power… I, too, was on the cusp of several new discoveries in my magical research. While my powers come through hard work, and not through the innate powers of one such as Delem, they too can carry a high price. While it was not an easy decision, I have decided that the price has become too high for me, for now. My desire for more powerful magic was blinding me to the truly important things, to the everyday discoveries and new experiences that I left Waterdeep to find. I have decided that for the moment, I am going to place my research aside and focus on my other talents, the road of the bard that I have neglected of late. My companions were very understanding when I told them, but I cannot help but think that perhaps my decision may end up costing all of us, when we face whatever challenges lay on our road ahead.
And then there is Elly. I suspect that she has news for me, something that I have suspected was coming for some time now. I have hardly seen her this past tenday, but even as I write these words she has just entered my chamber, and stands waiting, thinking that I cannot see her from my perch at this borrowed desk at which I write.
* * * * *
Cal put down his pen and pushed the low chair away from the desk. “Hello, Elly,” he said.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude.”
“Not at all. Please, come in and sit down.” He gestured toward the only other chair in the room, like his own a plain, unadorned piece fashioned from stone slabs. “I can heat up the tea, if you like—it’s far better than that stuff Dana made for us back on the road.”
Elly smiled, but shook her head. “No, thank you.” The young woman looked slightly uncomfortable, and she worried the hem of her tunic as she sat down on the hard stone chair.
“So, you’re leaving us?” Cal said, pouring himself a cup of tea after channeling a minor cantrip to heat the water to a satisfactory temperature.
Elly looked up with surprise. “How… did Benzan tell you?”
“No, I haven’t seen Benzan today… but I’ve seen the way you’ve been acting, lately, and I could tell that you’ve been ready to move on for some time now.”
Elly nodded. “There’s a merchant caravan headed out tomorrow morning, through the Underdark to Mithral Hall. It’s a long trip, but it will take me a goodly part of the way back to the Sword Coast. I miss the sea, and the life I had there. Kael had a lot of friends, and I know I’ll be able to find a berth on another vessel come spring.”
“I understand,” Cal said, stirring his tea before taking a sip.
“Why are you all staying?” she asked him. “I thought you wanted to get back to the Western Heartlands, almost as much as I did.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt we’ll make our way back soon enough. But Lok’s from around these parts, and he’s said that he wanted to visit his homeland before making the journey back. We’re meeting with one of the dwarven elders tomorrow afternoon, someone who might be able to tell us more about what’s been going on up here and what we might expect if we head further north. All we’ve been hearing so far is a lot of rumor and contradictory reports, although it seems Lariel was right about the troubles that are plaguing the North.”
“I think I’ve had enough of those kinds of troubles,” Elly said softly.
Cal put his tea down on the edge of the desk and crossed over to her. He took her hands in his own. “You’ve been a great friend and ally, Elewhyn, and an integral part of our group for the last few tendays. I know the others feel as I do. We’re sorry for what you’ve lost, but hope that one thing you’ve gained, if nothing else, is some lasting friendships.”
“Thank you. It… it means a lot to me, it really does. Sometimes I think that Raindancer was cursed, the way all of us kept dying, one after the other, all the terrible things that befell us. I’ve often asked myself, why me? Why was I the one to survive, the one to escape that horrible place?”
“Life is just like that, sometimes,” Cal said. “We can only control our own actions, and not the whims of what fate elects to throw in our path. I’d like to think, though, that the bravery of Horath and the others have won them favorable places in the next life.”
“But… they died someplace else… not on Faerûn… what if… what if their souls were stranded there, in a strange place?” The last came out almost as a whisper, and Cal felt for the genuine pain at the woman’s loss. Horath had been very close to her, a lover and a support, and it was clear that she hadn’t yet had time to work through the pain of bereavement.
“I know that’s not true,” Cal said. “I know, because I have personal confirmation that Ruath is safely ensconced at Tymora’s side, and that she’s content there.” Well, at least he hoped that the latter was true, but he kept certainty in his voice, for the sake of the young half-elf. “You’ve got a lot of life left ahead for you, Elewhyn, and your pain will ease with time. Believe me, I know that from experience as well.”
“Thank you,” she said, bending low to enfold the gnome in a warm embrace. Blinking back a tear or two, she rose to depart.
“You’ve spoken with Benzan, then?”
She nodded, but didn’t say more, and Cal didn’t pry.
After Elly had departed, Cal returned to the desk and his journal. He took a sip of his tea and picked up his pen, but after staring at the writing on the page for a long minute placed the pen down and closed the book. It was late, and he didn’t feel like writing any more tonight.
Journal Entry
8 Alturiak, 1373 Dalereckoning
It has been some time since I have sat down to write down a recalling of events in this journal, but for the first time in a long while I have some extra time on my hands to reflect on, as my uncle Donweddin used put it, “what was, what is, and what will be.” We’ve been here in Citadel Adbar for a full ten-day now, and while it’s good to feel warm again (and not to have to worry about monster attacks coming at any moment), I’m already feeling the itch in my feet for the open road. The dwarves are not unkindly hosts, but they do not take well to strangers and the guest quarters underground are cramped and sparse. In the above-ground portion of the fortress there is at least the comfort of the open air, but the pleasure of that is undermined somewhat by the constant noise and smell of the dwarven metalworks there. It runs day and night, and not without reason. Citadel Adbar has earned its reputation as one of the strongest fortresses in all of Faerûn, and it seems that Lariel’s words about the dangers of this region were not unfounded. There has been no violence since we’ve been here, but several of the dwarves I spoke with mentioned recent sightings of orcs and ogres in the area, and they indicated that such incursions were becoming both more frequent and more brazen in their challenge to Adbar’s control over the surrounding lands.
The fate of Ruath still weighs heavily on my mind, although I know that I must eventually accept that the choice was hers to make. One of my first stops on our arrival here was the temple of Moradin. It took some doing (and showing some of the gems that we brought back from the Isle of Dread) to get in to see the High Priest, but once we met he was not unsympathetic to our cause. Especially once he found out Ruath’s affiliation; it seems that the Harpers are not unknown in these parts. Perhaps Lariel and Gorath… but that is a subject for another time.
It took a fairly generous donation to persuade the cleric to seek the Soul Forger’s intercession, only to find that Ruath’s spirit did not wish to return to the mortal shell that we’d so painstakingly preserved for her. I cannot say that I am surprised, after all that I knew of her. I earnestly wish that she has finally found happiness, at Tymora’s side.
We buried her in the ground in a nearby valley, outside of the fortress. I know that she would have wanted that.
One consolation, at least—we were able to restore Dana’s hand, again through the good graces of the church of Moradin. She was very grateful, and none of us begrudged the gems it took to see the deed done, not even Benzan. As I recall, it was he who first suggested that we sell the black pearl that he found to raise the necessary funds.
With our clerical needs seen to, there was little cash remaining for our other needs. We replenished our stock of ammunition and supplies, of course, although Dana’s newly discovered powers makes the latter a little less critical. I’d wanted to acquire a new wand of color spray, as my current device is approaching the end of its usefulness, but no such item could be found here. The dwarven mage I spoke to was quite a character—he said something to the effect of, “we dwarves don’t truck with illooshuns and fairy charms, gnome. Now, if ye care to buy some real magic…”
I didn’t get any ‘real’ magic, but I was able to buy a pair of minor healing wands from the temple of Moradin. I gave one to Dana, and kept the other myself…
That reminds me of another thing of note. In search of an artificer who could help us to identify the blades we brought back from the Isle, we were directed to a smithy located deep under the mountain beneath the citadel, in the bowels of the old dwarf-built complex of tunnels and caverns. It took almost an hour just to reach the site—gods, this place is huge! We were introduced to a dwarf who seemed as old as the stones themselves, a venerable figure named Karroth. I suspected that this dwarf was possessed of a significant magic of his own, and the way he swiftly gained the measure of our items quickly confirmed my suspicions. He was particularly interested in the bronze swords, especially the one that we’d found on the encrusted throne in the cavern where we fought the kopru. He said that it bore an enchantment similar to the elf-blades once forged in Myth Drannor, that it had the power to protect its wielder from magic of the mind. The longer we remained the more interested he seemed in the item, and we agreed to return so that he could study it more. I spoke with the others, and we agreed that we had little use for the weapon—Lok has his axe, and such a blade is far too large for me. Benzan could use it; certainly it would have helped him in our clash against the lamia—but he is far too attached to his current weapon. Karroth confirmed that Benzan’s sword is possessed of an independent intelligence, but would say little more about it except to state the powers of which we were already aware.
Once he saw that we might be interested in selling the blade, Karroth grew very canny, and offered to take it and the other bronze sword we had found—the one taken from the leader of the tribesmen on Taboo Island—and in exchange he would improve the enchantments upon our current weapons. While I cannot help but think now that we agreed a little too readily, a bargain was struck and we left our items in the care of the venerable smith and his helpers. Benzan seemed torn, his unwillingness to leave his blade in the care of another warring with his desire to improve the weapon. Or was it the desire of the weapon to be improved, that won out in the end…?
In any case, the smith was true to his word, and Lok and Benzan seem pleased with their newly improved weapons. My shortsword bears a sharpness that it has never had, and it now casts a faint glow, not enough to read by, but enough to brighten a dark passageway. Dana’s kama and Elly’s spear have also been improved by the smith’s art. Delem does not generally use a melee weapon, but the smith gave him a half-score of crossbow bolts that he insists are of special efficacy against giants, a category that includes ogres.
Ah, I nearly forgot. Benzan and Delem have learned to fully use their new magical rings. Delem’s ring of telekinesis is quite powerful, but its magic is only usable once per day. Benzan’s ring, the one that he took from the lamia, has the power to cloak its user in shadows, making him virtually invisible except in bright light.
I cannot help but think that this item could prove to be very dangerous in the tiefling’s hands.
Delem and Dana appear to have mastered their new magical power. Delem, in particular, has achieved a great deal of power for one so young. I hope that he will continue to rely upon my guidance in helping him direct his talents in worthy directions.
As for my own power… I, too, was on the cusp of several new discoveries in my magical research. While my powers come through hard work, and not through the innate powers of one such as Delem, they too can carry a high price. While it was not an easy decision, I have decided that the price has become too high for me, for now. My desire for more powerful magic was blinding me to the truly important things, to the everyday discoveries and new experiences that I left Waterdeep to find. I have decided that for the moment, I am going to place my research aside and focus on my other talents, the road of the bard that I have neglected of late. My companions were very understanding when I told them, but I cannot help but think that perhaps my decision may end up costing all of us, when we face whatever challenges lay on our road ahead.
And then there is Elly. I suspect that she has news for me, something that I have suspected was coming for some time now. I have hardly seen her this past tenday, but even as I write these words she has just entered my chamber, and stands waiting, thinking that I cannot see her from my perch at this borrowed desk at which I write.
* * * * *
Cal put down his pen and pushed the low chair away from the desk. “Hello, Elly,” he said.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude.”
“Not at all. Please, come in and sit down.” He gestured toward the only other chair in the room, like his own a plain, unadorned piece fashioned from stone slabs. “I can heat up the tea, if you like—it’s far better than that stuff Dana made for us back on the road.”
Elly smiled, but shook her head. “No, thank you.” The young woman looked slightly uncomfortable, and she worried the hem of her tunic as she sat down on the hard stone chair.
“So, you’re leaving us?” Cal said, pouring himself a cup of tea after channeling a minor cantrip to heat the water to a satisfactory temperature.
Elly looked up with surprise. “How… did Benzan tell you?”
“No, I haven’t seen Benzan today… but I’ve seen the way you’ve been acting, lately, and I could tell that you’ve been ready to move on for some time now.”
Elly nodded. “There’s a merchant caravan headed out tomorrow morning, through the Underdark to Mithral Hall. It’s a long trip, but it will take me a goodly part of the way back to the Sword Coast. I miss the sea, and the life I had there. Kael had a lot of friends, and I know I’ll be able to find a berth on another vessel come spring.”
“I understand,” Cal said, stirring his tea before taking a sip.
“Why are you all staying?” she asked him. “I thought you wanted to get back to the Western Heartlands, almost as much as I did.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt we’ll make our way back soon enough. But Lok’s from around these parts, and he’s said that he wanted to visit his homeland before making the journey back. We’re meeting with one of the dwarven elders tomorrow afternoon, someone who might be able to tell us more about what’s been going on up here and what we might expect if we head further north. All we’ve been hearing so far is a lot of rumor and contradictory reports, although it seems Lariel was right about the troubles that are plaguing the North.”
“I think I’ve had enough of those kinds of troubles,” Elly said softly.
Cal put his tea down on the edge of the desk and crossed over to her. He took her hands in his own. “You’ve been a great friend and ally, Elewhyn, and an integral part of our group for the last few tendays. I know the others feel as I do. We’re sorry for what you’ve lost, but hope that one thing you’ve gained, if nothing else, is some lasting friendships.”
“Thank you. It… it means a lot to me, it really does. Sometimes I think that Raindancer was cursed, the way all of us kept dying, one after the other, all the terrible things that befell us. I’ve often asked myself, why me? Why was I the one to survive, the one to escape that horrible place?”
“Life is just like that, sometimes,” Cal said. “We can only control our own actions, and not the whims of what fate elects to throw in our path. I’d like to think, though, that the bravery of Horath and the others have won them favorable places in the next life.”
“But… they died someplace else… not on Faerûn… what if… what if their souls were stranded there, in a strange place?” The last came out almost as a whisper, and Cal felt for the genuine pain at the woman’s loss. Horath had been very close to her, a lover and a support, and it was clear that she hadn’t yet had time to work through the pain of bereavement.
“I know that’s not true,” Cal said. “I know, because I have personal confirmation that Ruath is safely ensconced at Tymora’s side, and that she’s content there.” Well, at least he hoped that the latter was true, but he kept certainty in his voice, for the sake of the young half-elf. “You’ve got a lot of life left ahead for you, Elewhyn, and your pain will ease with time. Believe me, I know that from experience as well.”
“Thank you,” she said, bending low to enfold the gnome in a warm embrace. Blinking back a tear or two, she rose to depart.
“You’ve spoken with Benzan, then?”
She nodded, but didn’t say more, and Cal didn’t pry.
After Elly had departed, Cal returned to the desk and his journal. He took a sip of his tea and picked up his pen, but after staring at the writing on the page for a long minute placed the pen down and closed the book. It was late, and he didn’t feel like writing any more tonight.
Last edited:
Lazybones
Adventurer
As the group has now all leveled-up I have updated the Rogues' Gallery thread.
Here's the link: http://www.enworld.org/messageboards/showthread.php?s=&threadid=658
Thanks for reading,
LB
Here's the link: http://www.enworld.org/messageboards/showthread.php?s=&threadid=658
Thanks for reading,
LB
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Thanks for the update LB. I really enjoy the journal from Cal's perspective.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Horacio: yeah, I don't know what it is with gnomes and diaries... 
Maldur: I've thought about starting up a game again, but I haven't had much luck finding adult players in my area. I envy the SH authors on this board who have a group of close friends they've gamed with for years and years. I'm really looking forward to Neverwinter Nights for the reason that it might help facilitate online D&D gaming for those of us who don't have a local group of players. Hey, maybe I'll start an online game with my story hour readers!
Also, thanks for the compliment. Sometimes I don't notice the improvement until I go back and read stuff I wrote 5 or 10 years ago.
Broc: Glad you enjoyed it. I do try to vary the perspective/tone of the story for variety's sake.
I'm not entirely happy with the way that parts 9-10 are turning out, so I'm going back to the drawing board, but should have something to post tomorrow.
Thanks all,
LB
Maldur: I've thought about starting up a game again, but I haven't had much luck finding adult players in my area. I envy the SH authors on this board who have a group of close friends they've gamed with for years and years. I'm really looking forward to Neverwinter Nights for the reason that it might help facilitate online D&D gaming for those of us who don't have a local group of players. Hey, maybe I'll start an online game with my story hour readers!
Also, thanks for the compliment. Sometimes I don't notice the improvement until I go back and read stuff I wrote 5 or 10 years ago.
Broc: Glad you enjoyed it. I do try to vary the perspective/tone of the story for variety's sake.
I'm not entirely happy with the way that parts 9-10 are turning out, so I'm going back to the drawing board, but should have something to post tomorrow.
Thanks all,
LB
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