(Dear Reader: Here you will find a harrowing bit of clack written by veteran
Forgotten Realms game designer Steven Schend!)
EASTING - Rumors swirl into many taverns all across the Sword and Dragon Coasts of monsters having seen a surge in populations beyond patrolled lands and roads. Folk talk of many reasons for this—from a milder than average winter in many areas to divine influence by some gods whom also saw a spike in worship—but all that is known for certain is a larger-than-average birth rate among all giants, goblinoids, ogres of all stripes, orcs, and various nonhumans of concern. While not even the most amoral sellswords would dare advocate the slaughter of younglings, many commoners worry evermore over the believed looming threat they suggest. That tension and anxiety is oil awaiting an open flame—which arrived on the 7th evening of the month.
Two bloodied adventurers staggered into Easting’s Lone Tusk Tavern at dusk. Doalus “Firebeard” Arkampick (NE dm F7) was severely burned across the left half of his body, while his right arm-stump and torso bore witness of fangs and claws having savaged his other half. Doalus’ companion—dragged upon the dwarf’s shield—had lost his left eye and both legs below the knee, massive burns blistering the rest of his body. The haughty self-proclaimed “Encantussar” (LE hm W8) now admitted he was Brinneth Othalson of Hluthvar, as his days as an adventurer were at an end, along with their three companions.
They claimed they and their fellow Sunset Stalwarts—bullies turned infamous adventurers for hire around the Far Hills and Sunset Mountains—got trapped by a blizzard high up in the central mountains in early Nightal. They survived the winter by their supplies and hunting, but they accidentally revealed their presence to an orc tribe by late Hammer. While they eradicated the larger-than-expected orc tribe, they lost one of their own in doing so, and in retreating to their cavern, they were "besieged by a bugbear horde of some o’ the largest I’d ever seen!“
Eight nigh-giant bugbears and their many kin claimed their other two companions over several days of harassing attacks and surges into their cavern, while Doalus and Encantussar escaped under cover of magic, or so they thought. The pair made their way south and downslope until an avalanche crushed the wizard’s legs “at the magical command of a bugbear with a rust-red pelt.
The peltarnn had with ‘im a nigh-endless swarm of skinny bugbear cubs and young warriors, not the vets we left behind. Strangest still was a whip he had—either made outta flames or surrounded by them—and he had a blackened claw of some kind worn like an amulet. Me and ‘im took our beatings from him and his whelps—a fair chunk of them cubs was russet-red like ‘im—but his fiery whip melted us an escape path when it burned us. At least me pickaxe brought down a load o’ mountain on them before we managed to slide out of there.”
Doalus spent the next two days, despite his wounds, dragging his friend here to safety …” at least it’s safe until them bugbears decide to cause more trouble…”
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