This is the first entry in the "chronicle" a magical book that follows our party and documents our efforts. I wrote this with a little too much detail, meaning that by the end of the week that I had available to me, I had to rush to get it finished in time for the next game so it's a bit empty and vague. Next time, not so much detail perhaps.
After the chronicle completes an entry, mysterious notes are added to the end.
After the chronicle completes an entry, mysterious notes are added to the end.
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Introductions should be made before the journey starts,
Six unlikely actors each to play important parts,
Julian a cleric kind of heart, a bane to all that’s evil,
Sable a bard with words of gold, he flees from great
upheaval,
Joe a man of magic raw, his sorceries sing sublime,
Trace a roguish shadow stalker, magic aids his crime,
The fifth no man could call his lesser, barbarian half-ogre
Ur-Gath,
The last good Cael of High Forest roots, a ranger of the
path,
The tale begins on a bright, blue day at a tavern near
the city,
All save Ur-Gath meet inside, his size makes entering
shitty,
Introductions are made with gusto, flush with beer and
snacks,
Then on they move to Westgate’s walls to meet Sir Berem
Corvax,
Old paladin of Tyr’s domain he lived a life of war,
Brought justice to barbaric hordes and quelled the
dragon’s roar,
“Well met, good friends” the old man speaks, “I have a
great request,”
“A rumour tells of islands plagued, a cause of great
unrest,”
“Three pupils I have sent away to find the rumour’s
truth,”
“To Dragon’s Isle they set their sail to bring back what
is sooth,”
“Naught I’ve heard, but silence black, it gives me cause
to worry,”
“I ask for you to find these three, I wish you haste and
hurry,”
Our heroes need no time to think, their duty here is
clear,
“Worry not,” the young bard says, “You have no need
fear,”
“We shall, of course, take on your quest with vigour, vim
and zeal,”
“Any knowledge you can give would help us much, I feel,”
“One survivor made it back,” Old Corvax replies,
“Hidden by the Night Mask group, a guild of thieves and
spies,”
“They have a man that you could meet, Rorgan ’The Mouth’
his name of choice,”
“Perhaps he could arrange you meet, or be the captive’s
voice,”
“Search the docks not far from here, ’The Bent Mermaid’
is the place,”
“Where you can meet with ‘Mouth’ himself and see him face
to face,”
Tis not long before our heroes find the Mermaid’s
darkened door,
And when they enter they soon find what all the noise is
for,
Thugs, thieves, sailors, stooges, roustabouts abound,
Are sat at tables drinking beer carousing all around,
Ur-Gath is not there of course, small doors give him the
blues,
So off he starts across the docks, in search of ships to
use,
Silence sweeps across the floor when our brave heroes
enter,
All eyes flick from tankards full and on the party
centre,
Unperturbed the bard does call to all who care to hear,
“We seek a meeting with ‘The Mouth’, we heard he
frequents here,”
Raucous laughter fills the room and eyes turn back to
beers,
The party stands in awkward silence, but a hopeful sight
appears,
A half-orc blocks a nearby door, with purpose in his
eyes,
‘A guard’ the party thinks with glee, ‘One of Rorgan’s
guys?’
“Salutations!” Calls the bard, “I’m sure you overheard,”
“We seek to meet with Rorgan, could we have a word?”
The half-orc runs his eyes across, the varied motley
crew,
“All your weapons on the table, then I’ll let you
through,”
Weapons clatter to the wooden table by the guard,
The trickster tries to sneak some in, but is found and
must discard,
Down some stairs and through a door, into a darkened
room,
A clammy cold pervades the air, redolent of a tomb,
A guard stands quiet in each corner, none pay any heed,
And in the centre smiling broad, a shady man indeed,
“Friends,” he speaks through pearly teeth, “I heard you wish
to meet me,”
“What folks of your alignment want, I really cannot see,”
The bard pipes up, his voice a lilt, “We seek what clues
we can,”
“Survivor of the Dragon Isles, we heard you have our
man,”
The mouth leans back and rubs his chin, then speaks, the
silence broken,
“I could arrange for you to meet, should you provide a
token,”
“Bring to me the statue that was won not long ago,”
“In a bidding at an auction made by Lord Urdo,”
The cleric cannot stand the farce, “You surely do not
mean,”
“For us to steal this good lord’s prize, your offer is
obscene,”
“The fate of hundreds of good souls could hinge on what
we find,”
“This man we seek is key to this, could you not be kind?”
Rorgan cracks a wicked smile, “Kindness is a gift,”
“I give to those I deem deserve it, to gain it you must
grift,”
So our heroes find themselves, facing moral quandary,
But fates of people override, material wealth and sundry,
The cleric still cannot abide to put his hand to crime,
Instead he chooses to approach the lord and ask his time,
While all this is going on, Ur-Gath roams the dock,
But asking passage to Dragon Isle is met with stares of
shock,
None dare to approach the place, to travel there is
madness,
Nothing good awaits one there but danger, death and
sadness,
“Surely someone here is brave enough to sail the Isle,”
One man steps up to the plate who thinks the trip
worthwhile,
“My name be Captain Remington,” he bows low with a flair,
Jewels glisten in the light, and spices soak the air,
“My crew is loyal, strong and brave, they jump at every
test,”
“But danger is indeed a threat, and I hate to lose my
best,”
“The price I ask will not be cheap, to put my men at
risk,”
“The gold I ask you to provide, could satisfy a fisc,”
Ur-Gath straightens up his back and meets the captain’s
eye,
“I’ll bring your offer to my friends,” and so he says
goodbye,
Now we ought to return to our would be men of crime,
The bard produces disguise kits to aid them for a time,
The sorcerer, bard, rogue and ranger, all approach the
manse,
The orange make-up, giant noses, earn more than just a
glance,
“Call your lord, my vigilant friends!” Sable tells the
guards,
“We have the bargain of a lifetime for a man of high
regards,”
“Have ye an appointment, sir?” asks a guard, his face a
passive stare,
“If not good sirs will have to wait,” he says with lofty
air,
“We have not an appointment made, but see this work of
art,”
“This magic carpet woven fine brings light to any heart,”
The guard gives the bard the briefest of all looks,
Then off he walks towards the house, muttering about
‘crooks’,
Some time goes by then back he comes to bring the group
inside,
The hallway boasts a bright display a king could call his
pride,
Through the hall the party’s led and through a room of
books,
Into a room choc-full of trophies the guests exchanged
some looks,
Lord Varisk Urdo stands straight and tall within the
well-lit room,
The piercing eyes and thin-lipped smile go with his regal
costume,
He speaks a whisper hard to hear, alike the rasp of
death,
“I gather you have something fine, to take away my
breath,”
“Indeed my lord,” the bard replies and shows the man the
carpet,
While others look about the room, searching for their
target,
Sable demonstrates the carpet’s finery and worth,
“This is a masterwork you see, does it not bring you
mirth?”
The carpet does not fly no matter how the bard does try,
It seems the mansion has a field that drains the magic
dry,
Seeing that the carpet’s limp, the lord goes to a shelf,
And pulls out books in careful order, drops the field
himself,
Trace at this espies a dagger fine of make and grand,
And with a deftness wrought from magic brings it to his
hand,
All this Lord Urdo does not notice as he sits astride the
rug,
Trace and Sable join him there, the bard looks very smug,
On they fly in demonstration of the carpet’s class,
Past the intricate displays all made of tempered glass,
Though the library they soar and out into the hall,
Out the front door down the path above the heads of all,
The bard has something he has hidden from his group of
friends,
News that had he said too fast would bring them to their
ends,
Lord Urdo is in fact a lich, an undead evil mage,
A guise he made of magic to appear a lordly age,
A wily plan the bard devises to rid them of the lich,
The carpet will climb and climb in height and off it
he’ll be pitched,
‘A fool-proof plan!’ the bard does think, and signals
down to Joe,
To come up to the carpet quick and strike the lich a
blow,
Joe zips up to them post-haste and kicks out at the foe,
Off the carpet falls the lich, into the air below,
An arcane wind surrounds the lich and with a squeaky pop,
He vanishes into thin air and foils the deadly drop,
Sable’s plan is dead and buried, they turn about and
leave,
To go back to Corvax’s home and plan the coming eve,
While this whole fiasco’s brought to its comedic fate,
Julian’s rickshaw rumbles up to Urdo’s mansion gate,
He paid a taxi which of course, would take the long way
‘round,
And by the time the journey’s done it’s already gone
down,
He’s turned away by guards of course, “The lord is having
troubles”,
The only option left is to return with worries doubled,
The worries turn to fury hot when Julian returns,
“A lich shall not be suffered while Lathander’s judgement
burns,”
So the heroes make their way as one emboldened troop,
To Lord Urdo’s grand estate with purpose as a group,
Deathly quiet makes the air seem heavy, thick and cold,
There are no guards to block the gate so on go heroes
bold,
Footsteps slap against the stone as down the street they
go,
The air a supernatural cold runs with a ghostly flow,
Something brushes past below, a spectral ghastly grasp,
Our heroes feel their strength is sapped and hear a
gruesome rasp,
On they run to Urdo’s door to leave the hands behind,
They shut the door in hope the spectres to the garden
bind,
Lady luck is not their ally, the spectres do not care,
In and out the ground they spring, a vision of despair,
Trace enacts a spell of flight to take them out of range,
The spectres have to leave the ground to make deadly
exchange,
Ur-Gath floats into the middle of the massive hall,
Waiting for the ghostly foes to jump out at them all,
Meanwhile in search of somewhere to regroup and conspire,
Sable opens up a door to find a small vampire,
On the bard the girl jumps strong and bites into his
neck,
His strength is sapped until he passes out and hits the
deck,
Julian reveals his great god’s symbol in a flash,
With some simple words of prayer she bursts into white
ash,
The cleric lays about with restoration spells galore,
While Ur-Gath strikes the spirits down as they spring
from the floor,
All the spirits vanquished and the vampire naught but
dust,
Joe decides that scouting out with magic is a must,
He teleports towards the room of fantastical prizes,
The room is empty save the cases all of different sizes,
The others join him and he chooses once again to drift,
He finds himself in darkness deep though not far did he
shift,
The bard meanwhile strikes up a song to give them arcane
sight,
A hidden door now visible is seen with magic light,
A massive case that houses a large statue blocks the
door,
Ur-Gath grabs the glass display and throws it to the
floor,
Joe throws daylight through the dark to give the hall a
light,
A set of stair goes further down to vanish out of sight,
A door behind him opens to reveal the room he left,
Down the stairs good Cael moves on while Trace considers
theft,
Once again Joe phases through the frail fabric of space,
Down the stairs and through a door he finds a deadly
place,
The lich stands tall and at his side a vampire very
bored,
They stand upon a dais raised above an undead horde,
Meanwhile Ur-Gath has to stoop to fit inside the hall,
Cael the elf moves on ahead they have no time to stall,
“Scouting!” shouts Ur-Gath out loud, patience not his
clout,
Taking Cael along the way he charges through and out,
He cannot stop his massive bulk as through the door he
crashes,
He picks up Joe while charging and into a wall he mashes,
Julian, Trace and Sable follow quickly from behind,
While Cael and Joe untangle limbs from Ur-Gath just to
find,
The bony horde advancing on them a moving sea of white,
Trace and Sable summon friends to help them in the fight,
A dinosaur bursts from the ether horned with heavy stride,
It bellows out a pounding roar and charges down the tide,
Sable brings into the fight a hound archon divine,
It sets its sights upon the foe and howls its hatred
fine,
The dinosaur is stopped mid-charge, a force cage holds it
fast,
But Julian has the lich in sight, the mastermind at last,
Julian casts about with prayers and lays undead to waste,
While Ur-Gath charges through the air the flight spell
still in place,
The ogre takes the vampire on but doesn’t get too far,
Another force cage soon appears through magic so bizarre,
Finally the cleric moves up to bring the lich his doom,
A final turning brings him down and silence
fills the room, ------------------------------
One: A terrible lich cast down.
Two: Yet
still they tarry and make little progress with the real threat. I told you we
should have hired those Baneite mercenaries...
One: This was our mistake. Far better to keep it hidden from those
who would manipulate it, sister...
Two: Very
well, I shall grant mercy this time but my patience is not infinite, unlike my
power...
One: Heroes, when you next report, tell me what you have learned
about your foes. I would like to know how our subject is adapting to his first
taste of freedom in millennia...
