Character backstory: Val’Kiroth Amblarex

As the second-born of a family of prospectors, owning a mine in which Val’s great-great-great-grandfather and -grandmother met and worked. Living a long life, making an honest pay from the work in the rich mine, when they finally retired, his great-great-great-grandfather was a supervisor in the mine, overseeing the training of new workers. A position that their children took upon them in time.

When Val’s father, Wrakull Amblarex, was young, he was already in charge of organizing the ore-hauls going to merchants, and the purchasing of supplies for the miners. From that position, it didn’t take long for Wrakull to eventually own the mine, essentially being the most important figure in the settlement, that over the years had risen around the mine.

Wrakull was known as a strict, conservative man, though he managed to create the image among the workers, that he himself had worked his way up from the same position as they were in. But this was in part because Wrakull, through an agent at the local tavern, had heard some of the workers speaking of revolting and taking over the mine. Wrakull also set out to increase the safety of the mine-shaft, reinforcing the supports, replacing the damaged ones and having back-up digging teams on standby, in case of a cave-in.

Wrakull had hoped to birth a son first, so when his firstborn instead turned out to be a girl, he immediately set out, with his wife Hasiras, to birth another child. This child would become Val’kiroth.

Val’s upbringing was easy, along with his one-year-older sister, his father’s wealth were able to help overcome most difficulties, that children in a rough and tumble mining town normally would face. Including hiring a well-renowned Elf to teach Val and his sister Earrys a more refined etiquette, as well as the Elvish language.

Were Earrys took an interest in food, both eating and cooking, Val’s interests were more in accounting and wealth, to his father’s joy.

When Val was old enough, and with Earrys about to be married to another wealthy Dragonborn family, his father asked Val to go out and expand his and his sister’s new family’s trading network.

A Herbalist’s Notes, part four

The jungle continues to wear on our numbers and strength, and our morale isn’t much to write home about either. While the faction against Don Kelprys is the vast majority, the Don is quick to remind everyone that he is the one paying. All of the guards and the Tabaxi trackers have all received payment in advance, and the Don even promised to pay for the University to hold a funeral to Pieros. This kept most people in check, but it was obvious that it was just a question of when the desperation and the situation, would turn against the Don.

Meanwhile my effort into making anti-venom have proved fruitful in terms of keeping almost anyone friendly with me. I’m no healer, but one of the guards came up to me the other day, on his own accord, to show me a scar on his wrist, that he got while scavenging for herbs and food. While nothing in the scar tissue indicated infections or poisons, I cleaned it with sterile water and a piece of cloth. I then applied a salve on and around the scar, and told the guard to avoid covering the scar until it had healed. The young man offered me a bottle of De Cabaniro wine, that he and another of the guards had smuggled along. Captain Merra had been strict against alcoholic beverages, even before we began losing people, but a real De Cabaniro wine would cost a fortune under normal circumstances. I told him to come again around midnight, under the excuse of letting me see how the scar was healing.

The two guards opened the bottle as quiet as a mouse, originally, they had intended for me to get the entire bottle for myself. But when I offered that we’d share it, for the sake of friendship, it didn’t take them long to comply. The crimson liquid that flowed into my cup had an enticing and enchanting scent. I took a gentle sip, and the rich savoury flavour poured into my mouth, embracing my throat on it’s way down. Despite the jungle’s humid and hot climate, the warmth that I felt inside from that bottle, was incredible.

The next day, Don Kelprys got a reason to keep the expedition going; while scavenging for food, Captain Merra came across a small stone totem, it looked like a snake, but with four heads. Each head had three gemstones lodged as “eyes”. On Don Kelprys demand, the totem was carefully examined and studied, as much as we scholars could gather, this was a real artifact, perhaps from one of the ancient Dragonborn cities, that was said to dwell in the depth of this jungle. A guard, the friend of the one I had applied salve to, asked if he should dislodge the gemstones with his dagger. Don Kelprys slapped the guard with the back of his hand. “You fool, items like these are the most valuable, if they remain intact.”

Now and then we came across remains of other expeditions, mostly skeletal remains, halfway covered by the wild undergrowth. It made me wonder on how many failed expeditions the jungle was hiding. It was impossible, apart from a single skull, probably Human, to tell how most of the skeletons perished. The skull in question had a very large fracture on the top, suggesting a blunt instrument was used with considerable force. Here and there, rusted and broken equipment could be found among the vines. If there was an ancient civilization here, their roads and paths had long since been swallowed by the growth of the forest.

A Herbalist’s Notes, part three

We lost two guards over night, both of them had small blow-darts sticking out of their throats. When the remaining guards went to move the corpses, it was as if their bones had melted inside of their body, and only flesh and organs were holding their limbs together. Captain Merra took a single glance at the gruesome sight, carefully removing one of the darts for inspection. “We have entered Troglodyte territory, I need every guard to stay alert, ready your shields.” 

After that speech, most of the party dispersed back to the tents. But Captain Merra signaled to me, that she wanted to talk. “You dabble in plants and potions, yes?” I merely nodded; now was not the right time to lecture her about what a herbalist was and wasn’t. “I need you to make some basic anti-venom potions, preferably enough for every man or woman to have at least two potions at hand.” I could sense the desperation in her voice, and with the knowledge of her having survived three expeditions like this into the jungle before, made me realise that our situation was dire.

I put aside my studies and began, with the basic potion kit to make antidote potions. The guards were more than happy to help with gathering ingredients. The Tabaxi trackers spotted the Troglodytes from time to time, but the reptiles kept their distance for now. Tensions were getting higher, as Captain Merra and the guards seemed to become less and less fond of our expedition’s fund-raiser, Don Kelprys, who insisted that we kept going deeper into the jungle. I don’t believe anyone, except him, knew what we hoping to find.

A Herbalist’s Notes, part two

We had our first casualty yesterday. I had expected it to be one of the guards or maybe one of our guides, but in fact it was Pieros. The man that had called himself one of the most promising scholars on wildlife and creatures, had been wandering out on his own, as some tracks had led him away from the campsite. His agonizing cries startled us all deeply. As the guards carried him back, he was rambling, his eyes wide open in terror, the makeshift stretcher held him steady, but he was already talking in tongues, flailing his arms about.

We had no healer or priest with us, the guards had some bandages and splints for treating common weapon-induced. It took two of the biggest guards to keep Pieros down, while Captain Merra examined Pieros’ body. Merra’s face turned sour, when she found two small puncture wounds, near Pieros’ ankle; the area of skin around them swollen and purple, the veins black and twitching from the wound. Sha’duush shook his head, “It’s over, he doesn’t live another day, the Fokal Mamba is deadly.” The guards took off their helmets, and bowed their heads. Merra turned to me, “I trust you can handle his documents and the sad news. We won’t be able to get his body back out of the forest, I need all the guards to protect this expedition.” I had thought it a little rude to talk about Pieros like that, when he was still flailing.

About an hour later, his veils had grown weaker, foaming at the mouth, his pupils darted side to side in his head. We had all tried to ignore it, but it was clear that some of the guards wasn’t taking it very well. When his veiling suddenly stopped, everyone sighed in relief. But seeing Mithrik pull a curved dagger out of Pieros’ chest, it almost caused the guards to draw blades at the Tabaxi. Luckily, Captain Merra stood up before things got out of hand. Our morale had taken a beating, but our expedition funder, a merchant and noble that I had heard referred to as “Don Kelprys”, insisted that we continued.

A Herbalist’s Notes, part one

Our expedition hired two Tabaxi guides in Doleks; Sha’duush and Mithrik, they seem to bicker a bit when it comes to path-finding, but seem to have a game of their own, to decide between them while staying friendly. We were advised to not get more than one guide from the same house. As soon as we strike up our first camp, I’ll try and speak with one of them to hear if they know about the plants and herbs here.

The humidity of Fokal’s dense trees and undergrowth, caught me by surprise at first. Our expedition leader, Captain Merra, suggested more thick clothing than loose. At first I was surprised, surely the temperature and heat, similar to the Trelland Desert, would be unbearable. But I came to discover, along with my other fellow scholars, that the thick and sturdy cloth made for a great idea, as several thorns and prickly plants would have torn our garments to shreds. With the canopy closing off for the sunlight, the temperature here in the forest, was actually kind of nice. I worry that the humidity is bad for my parchment and writing utensils.

I have already collected multiple samples, I shall write a full report once I have examined them back at home. Sha’duush seems more talkative than Mithrik, I’ve gathered that a large variety of ferns, or as Sha’duush calls them “Curled-grass”, grows on the dirt here. Some are poisonous, and some of them even have tiny needles affixed with various toxins along their leaves. I spoke to Captain Merra regarding this, as I felt it may benefit the expedition to be cautious around, she confirmed that she had heard of such plants.

We had our first run in with the wildlife of Fokal today, a horse-sized reptillian tried to grab a bite off of one of the guards, whose face was visibly white in shock. The guards managed to scare the thing off, by waving torches at it’s face, I’ll keep a note to myself about that creatures here do not like fire. My fellow scholar, the venerable Pieros, was saddened that we did not manage to kill the creature, for him to study, but he still got to spend a good deal of time scribbling things down.

A Tale of Catacrach – A Dungeons & Dragons 5E Adventure – Part 2

After obtaining their gear, Andrunil cried out over the lack of his halberd being among the items, announcing that he would walk through fires to get it back. The party steeled themselves, expecting the Goblins to bring back reinforcements, but the ever curious nature of Galdur saw him occupied by something else.

Four pillars encircled an area that was walled off from the rest of the cave. While Andrunil stood in anguish on the poorly paved stone path, the rest of the party slowly moved around the bramble roots, to investigate the clearly constructed part.

When they came around to it, they discovered an altar as used in older sacrificial rituals. Upon it was an unconscious small figure; a Gnome with fiery red hair. At the first glance, he appeared to be sleeping, but after calling out to him with no response, it was clear that something had knocked the Gnome out. Upon further investigation, no wounds were seen on him, but traces of some form of liquid was still on his lips; he had been sedated, presumably to be sacrificed at some other time.

Nak’Ral went in to move the Gnome off of the altar, but despite the Gnome’s lacking size, Nak’Ral’s less than muscled arms just barely managed to lift the Gnome off. As he did, the others, now also joined by Andrunil, investigated the altar, and discovered that it was covered with symbols to the god of conquest, Bane.

Slugging the Gnome over his shoulder with ease, Adrunil spearheaded the others onward in the cave; determined to re-obtain his halberd. They all followed, staying on the paved path. As the party spotted the remains of a small corpse, the skeletal remains laying at the edge of a dirty looking pool of still, greenish water. As the corpse was examined, the Gnome woke up, slightly confused.

Alfyn tried to speak reason with the rowdy bunch, not fully aware of the danger he had been in. Nak’Ral suggested, jokingly, that they should sacrifice him themselves; it might buy them a way out of this prison. Alfyn, to no surprise, was not particular fond of this, but through some talking back and forth, the group venture forward.

At the next bend, the war-cries of multiple Goblins rung through the cave. Out behind a rock, a band of five Goblins in various armour and weaponry appeared, with one hurling a sharp rock from his sling, aimed for the group, hitting Blellow in the side. A series of bright, blue lights caught the other Goblins by surprise, as they tried to fend against the spell, while fighting.

Meanwhile Therion had found another Goblin corpse behind a thick spider-web. Turning it over revealed a nest of spiders, that crawled onto Therion, biting him significantly, until they could pushed off by the flame from a torch. The Goblin had been covering a strange book. The dark-brown leather binding was covered by a strange, black substance, that was identified as Mage Rot, a type of fungi that would grow on surfaces or items that had once been used for magic. However, the Mage Rot made the book impossible to open.

A single, lowly Goblin swung it’s club at Andrunil, only to be smacked unconscious by his quarter-staff; Andrunil wanted his halberd back, and this Goblin would help him obtain it. One way or the other. As the rest of the Goblins were defeated, Galdur shackled the feinted Goblin, and used a rope to bind the Goblin to himself.

Moving into a walled in room, the group found themselves back inside the prison complex. An old, mostly abandoned pantry made for their entry point. Alfyn conjured up an ethereal owl, to search an upstairs area, that turned out to contain nothing but piles of planks and some rope.

Meanwhile Andrunil and Galdur were questioning the now awake Goblin, who through some very scare screeching turned out to be named “Steek”. Under the promise of survival, the group used Steek to lure some of the Goblins waiting for them in an upstairs room, down to meet their demise. The room, scouted out by Alfyn’s owl, had a significant number of Goblins, including some in what appeared to be home-made plate armour.

The party went up, without investigating more of the sub-level, preparing to fight the Goblins, with Steek in tow.

Food, Drink and D&D – Etiquette

For all who have played Dungeons and Dragons, or a similar game, we all know that getting through the, often, more than three hours on just air alone, can be rough.

Especially because D&D is a game where you can be expected to do silly voices, and talk a relative lot. It’s completely natural to become thirsty or hungry during that time, and it might even make for a great bonding experience to eat together. But not all food items make for a good D&D time, so here’s a little piece on what you can stuff into your face without worry. Notice that I’m not saying you can’t eat or drink certain things, this is merely a mixture of my experiences and advice based upon this experience.

Pizza

Pizza is a classic food item for D&D, as it is easy to order almost anywhere in the world, and with most pizza places offering a wide range of items to put on, it is hard to find someone who doesn’t like pizza. Most pizza that you order is cut into slices, which means that you can eat some of it at your own pace. If the locale you’re playing at have options for re-heating, it can last a lot longer still.

However pizza can be a delicious pitfall for your D&D session, so consider it carefully when ordering food.

The first and perhaps most notable thing about pizza, is grease. In particular on pizzas with pepperoni or bacon. These types of meat may be the most tastiest, but they also contain natural fats, which, when heated up, turns into an oily grease.

Grease can somehow manage to get into the weirdest of places, but more notably, it gets on paper and pens. To avoid this, eat any meal at a different table, if possible, than the one where you are playing. With greasy foods such as pizza, it can also be a good idea to have everyone wash and dry their hands after eating.

Another thing about pizza is that it is often a fairly salty meal. The thing about salty meals and snacks, is that they make you thirsty, but I’ll get to drinks later on in this post.

Chinese/Vietnamese/Thai

The south-eastern Asian cuisines are also a popular choice, as there usually is a very short waiting time and, just like pizza, there’s a large variety. Unfortunately most of these dishes are not of the “dry” variety, so you should having it anywhere near your character sheets. This type of food is also fairly salty, which should warrant a slight warning of it’s own.

Barbecue

Various bbq foods can be very tasty and can fill your stomach with it’s rich meats and sugary flavours. It should go without saying that bbq makes you thirsty, as it is both a fairly fat and a fairly salty type of dishes.

Rice, bulgur and quinoa (and pasta)

This is actually some of the best food for D&D. All of these are not only healthy (which isn’t really a focus point of this post, but hey, positives sell), but also very good at filling your stomach for a long time. Excellent for those grueling six hours or more, if you’re pulling an all-nighter. These food items have very little fat, that can turn into grease, and usually they aren’t all that salty either.

Pasta can work a bit of the same qualities as rice, bulgur and quinoa. However it seems the more popular pasta dishes are Mac n’ Cheese and Spaghetti Bolognese, these are unfortunate as they tend to be rather greasy.

Bread

Sandwiches are a great way to get a large variety of easily eaten foods in. But bread might not be the best idea. Crumbs and other parts can fall off/out of the sandwich, so keep it away from character sheets and other paper.

Drinks

While deep in a delving quest, the players can get thirsty, making them do less voice acting. Even more so if you’re the DM. A lot of drinks can work, but there are also things to be aware of.

Coffee is a great pick-me up drink, when you’re low on energy, and most people become in a better mood after even just a sip. Coffee does have downsides too though, as coffee is diuretic. This means that you’ll likely need to head to the bathroom a little more than usual, but if you don’t mind that, there shouldn’t be an issue.

Tea is great for the DM in particular, especially if your D&D have a lot of NPCs, and as such, a lot of different voices that the DM needs to make. Tea can be soothing, help you take care of your vocal chords, to keep them (and you) from getting hoarse.

Soda is actually a counter-active drink, as drinking soda tend to make you more thirsty, so if you combine a soda with a greasy type of food, you’re going to become very thirsty after and during eating your meal.

Energy drinks can work to give you a boost of energy, as the name suggests, but they tend to be even more diuretic than coffee, as the amounts of caffeine is higher and more concentrated in the average energy drink, than in a regular cup of black coffee.

Other substances

It is always important to communicate needs and ideas with your D&D group, to work out what is accepted and what is crossing the line of what is acceptable behaviour.

If you have agreed to consume alcohol, there isn’t a problem. Just be aware that alcohol gets very sticky when spilled, so it might be a good idea to keep an eye out, if someone starts getting shaky hands when pouring a drink or taking a sip.

In general, communication is key. Ask if someone in your group have any allergies, and try to mind them as best you can, when you’re ordering or making food, that way D&D becomes a great experience for all, just as it should.

How NOT to build an MMORPG quest (rant)

So far the worst quest I have come across in The Elder Scrolls series (from playing Morrowind, Oblivion, Skyrim and ESO) has got to be the quest “A Lasting Winter” in the Elder Scrolls Online. In this quest, you are tasked with finding powerful relics for Queen Ayrenn’s ratification ceremony, as a part of the Aldmeri Dominion quest-line in Grahtwood. Upon arriving at the Falinesti Winter Site, you’re met by an NPC who gives a vague description of what’s going on. She asks that you find a different NPC, further in amongst the ruins. This NPC will, conveniently, be able to activate certain Welkynd stones around the area. So you have to guide him around an area with absolutely no enemies whatsoever, to watch projections of an Elf denying a Khajiiti trickster God the chance to sleep with her. Since there are no enemies, it makes you wonder why he couldn’t have gone and seen for himself, and just summarized things for you.

Upon completing this, we’re sent to yet ANOTHER NPC, who basically says “I don’t know what’s going on, but what you’re looking for is in one of the caves near here. Watch out for the Frost Trolls.” So you descend into the dig-site, and where you usually expect a plethora of enemy soldiers, you only get a handful of Frost Trolls and some random Skeevers (which doesn’t really make sense, and isn’t explained).

Here is a massive missed opportunity, as the whole setup is that the “big baddie” of this place, is a highly respected General of the Aldmeri Dominion, the very same Dominion that you’re trying to help. So, if you were expecting Dominion soldiers (who’d normally aid you in other quests) hostile or not, you’re in for a nasty disappointment, as only a couple of soldiers survived when the Frost Trolls “arrived”.

And regarding Trolls in ESO, they are tough, with lots of HP, and some powerful melee attacks (none at range though), but they are fairly tedious to fight, even for a group, as they don’t pose any diversity of threat, and because of their bulkiness, they slow down quest progression. Which you only ever want to do if the story is interesting enough, to make you want to experience more of it. And you’d think dealing with the imagery of a god SHOULD be an interesting concept, but here it feels forced.

You are given three markers, for three caves, and the quest says to “investigate”. In typical MMORPG fashion, this means that you have no idea which cave holds the answer. At least, and this is pretty much the only saving grace about this quest, it doesn’t have the mechanic where it’s ALWAYS the last place you look, that contains the answer. But it still breaks the natural flow of the story and play-through of the quest-line.

You find the vault, which would have been inaccessible until finding the correct cave, and enter, hearing that the Aldmeri General is inside, but all her soldiers would be captured inside. So you, again, expect hostile Dominion soldiers, but no, they have all been encased in ice. In their stead there are skeletons, ok, that makes some sense, I guess, but there are also Gargoyles. Not even more Frost Trolls, which though annoying would at least have been consistent. And the game offers no explanation as to why there are Gargoyles there.

You then bumble through an ice and snow-covered ruin, until you reach the General, who you try to reason with. That fails and you have to fight her. She then spawns a clone to fight you, and here is where things get a little buggy. Because of the way this fight is set up, you are to kill either the General or the clone, doesn’t matter, because the one you didn’t kill just becomes the real one, and if you’re too slow, will spawn another clone. If you’re too fast at taking them both out, the game doesn’t follow through, as the quest-line is MEANT for you to fight at least one original and one copy. Killing them too fast means that it doesn’t register, and you have to start the fight over and over, until you get the timing right. It also doesn’t explain why the General is able to spawn a fully non-ethereal clone, other than “she’s possessed by a God, so meh, magic or something.”

Never, since starting to play Skyrim in 2011, have a quest ever agitated me as much as this one quest did. And considering how I LOATHE the quest in Skyrim for Clavicus Vile (because of not one, but TWO characters with workbench-grinder voices), that says a lot.

But I am curious, what is the worst quest in a game that you’ve come across, and what makes it so bad?

A Tale from Catacrach – A Dungeons & Dragons 5E Adventure – Part 1

Deep within the dense undergrowth of Hraldon Thicket, a strange sphere was floating through the trees. Two rugged and unlikely companions were walking along the Silver Trade-road, heading west towards Cyndarr, Cyndillian and eventually the city-state of Catacrach. Andrunil the Aasimar and Galdur the Hill Dwarf had been on the road for the better part of a week, without much more than the occasional merchant and traveler going the other way.

The calm late-summer weather was pleasant, a light, morning-breeze rustled through the thinly-veiled canopy of Hraldon Thicket, an area that was kept clean by the mages living in Hraldon Refuge. But after the Abborgardian Empire’s fall, the mages abandoned the fortification, and the area slowly turned into a bramble-covered forest.

Lacking the excitement of adventure, and curious by nature, the two followed the orb into the undergrowth, pushing and slashing plants aside with their weapons. Eventually they came to a clearing, and before them rose the mostly intact remains of Hraldon Refuge. The sandstone and marble walls and pillars, with it’s fine-cut stones, a clear mark of the Abborgardian times. here and there moss and ferns where reaching up, as if trying to reclaim this part back to nature.

When the sphere disappeared into the ruins, the two adventurers followed through, and in their eagerness for action, none of them noticed two figures standing ready with heavy clubs. Around twenty minutes later, the Half-Elf ranger Blellow Wildstride witnessed an odd crimson sphere, floating oddly above the stones of the Silver Road. His natural path-finding ability easily discovering the wide path that the two adventurers before him had taken. Shortly thereafter, he too entered the ruins. As the first club swung towards the back of his skull, he happened to look away, the whiff of the blunt weapon causing him to reach for his bow, but then the second club struck and Blellow’s eyes rolled back into his skull.

Not even ten minutes later, another Half-Elf walked the stretch of the Silver Road, his hooded cape covering his shortbow and shortsword entirely. He longed for dark alleyways, packed market-places, in other words, civilization. The few travelers he had met on the road didn’t seem all too well-endowed in their purses, and among those that did, he had gotten stern looks; one even loosened his rough-looking hand-axe, letting Therion know not to try his luck.

The crimson sphere was a pleasant surprise, a change of pace, and it was nice to get away from the open, flat road. Therion even managed to move close enough to investigate the orb, but as soon as he would reach to touch it, it would fizzle and blink out of existence, only to appear some ten feet ahead of him. When Therion came across the path, he smiled; a path meant people, and people meant civilization, and civilization, usually, meant money to “obtain”. the heavy set of boot-prints in the soft dirt didn’t bother him. He stood for a while gazing the walls of the Refuge over, old ruins sometimes had treasure, plus, there could always be interesting items that could be sold to a fence, with a little sparkle here, some paint there. Therion was counting out the possible gold he stood to earn, as he entered the ruins, unaware of the creatures lurking behind the wall.

Nearly an hour later, Nak’Ral the Tiefling Bard was merrily heading west, he had been looking for the random bird that would normally be active in a forest like this, but when he found none, he didn’t exactly stop to think it over. Particular as a red ball seemed to glow amongst some bushes by the side of road., the ball was giving off a low-humming tune. “Huh, strange melody…” Nak’Ral fetched his flute, trying to mimic the odd sound, as he did the ball danced, and seemed to lure him to follow. When he entered the ruins, he looked up in the last second “Hey, you’re not a red glowing – !” before the club knocked him out cold.

Some hours later, the unlikely group of heroes woke up, heads hurting, but finding themselves otherwise unhurt. Bound by their feet, the scent of stale, dusty air mixed with that of dried blood. Apart from their clothes and armour, the adventurers found themselves trying to escape. Some climbed up the rope, only to find the iron bars from which they where bound, were solidly lodged between layers of stone. And even an artistic attempt at a dagger used as a make-shift pulley failed, with the risk of a self-inflicted stabbing.

Eventually, with the help of gravity and a couple of cuts from daggers, all five adventurers found themselves on the floor of their cell. Andrunil woke up with a strange next to him, as it wasn’t his Dwarvish travel-mate, but instead a taller, slender Half-Elf in Blellow. Quickly finding a common ground in the need to get out of their cell, the two began to push, kick, headbutt and punch through the lower cell-wall, as they found it to be ill-maintained.

In the opposite corner of the prison, Galdur found that his way to the floor was longer than the others. But a Dwarf isn’t easy to pin down, so instead he used the first, the best tool to smash against the nearest wall; himself. At least he made a lot of noise, and the adventurers all began to call back and forth, trying to find one another. To their luck, it seemed none of their capturers were nearby. After dusting himself off, Galdur took a different approach, on a different wall.

On the other side of this wall, Nak’Ral looked at the stones of the wall, then at his less-than-muscular body. And then he decided to pretend to help break down the walls, as Galdur’s chain-mailed covered gauntlet busted through into his cell.

On the other side of the wall Galdur first tried to break, Therion was meticulously working his crowbar into the stone and mixer used to hold the stones in place. The loud noise of Galdur against the stones, decided for him where to start picking away.

Several walls broken down later, the adventurers discovered a grizzly sight in the cell next to Therion’s: a young, female Halfling. Or rather, her corpse. Multiple stab- and slashing wounds, and a relatively fresh pool of blood below her blonde, blood-soaked hair made it clear, that there was no saving her. She had probably died a little while before anyone of them even arrived at the edge of the forest. Cutting her down and searching her body over, Blellow discovered an odd necklace made in iron, bearing the mark of a prancing griffon.

With this discovery done, the group worked together to breaking the outer walls of the cells, and found themselves facing the scent of wet soil. They had entered a cave. A poorly paved path turned south towards some walled-in pillars. To the north an area covered with weathered planks was serving as a make-shift storage area, stacks of battered crates, tools and firewood were randomly stashed away here. Along with a simple chest, that caught the adventurers’ attention. They passed a large, earthy area filled what looked like dead roots and shrubbery, but stuck to the path.

Picking up the leftover tools, they began to look through the crates, while others where attempting to open the chest, that was locked with a simple, yet sturdy iron padlock. Inside the chest was a messenger’s leather bag, containing a sealed letter as well as a small vial with red liquid. The wax seal was identified as the seal of Catacrach.

The adventurers read the letter, leaving the seal unbroken on the envelope, that they cut open with a dagger. The letter contained a report about the movements of a wanted criminal named “Geoffrey the Blade” near the city of Ezolder, and was addressed to a certain “Lady M.”. A post-script was also written in, in Infernal, but only Nak’Ral was able to read that part, and he did not inform the others of the postscript’s wording. The sender of the letter was named Ruso Passwater, and asked for further instructions, regarding tracking and surveying the contacts of Geoffrey the Blade.

As they were about done with their search, they heard three voices coming from the western end of the cave. As the adventurers alerted the voices, one of them took off, told by the others that “the prisoners were escaping”. The two remaining Goblins put down a heavy-looking crate, and went to investigate, only to be scared away, as a the effect of a spell by Nak’Ral (calling himself Francis) hit the one of them, causing the other to flee.

The party then investigated the heavy crate and found that all of their missing equipment, including gold, inside. The only thing missing was Andrunil’s halberd; as it seemingly had been too long to fit in the crate, and had been carried by the first Goblin that ran off.

Khodrin Emberhelm’s Journal – part IV

Finally we have reached the monastery, that I’ve heard the others talk so much about. Not sure why we are here, but the two knights following us, suggest it to be important. The wind was howling here, we could see the peak reach up just behind the buildings, i’m just glad that this place isn’t frozen over or covered in snow, that would make all of this a whole lot more difficult. We stopped to assess the situation some thirty feet from the large wooden double doors, that appeared to be closed at the first glance. Apart from the wind, there was… nothing. No sounds of animals, no sounds of people, nothing. There was only an eerie silence and the wind. I glanced up, the monastery wasn’t an enormous building, but the walls seemed solid, almost fortress like in their construct. Given it’s remote location, the monastery would be easy to defend from even larger forces, as the road, or rather path, up here was narrow and long. Ten people, if given enough ammunition, could probably fend this place off for quite some time. Food and water would likely become a problem over time, but the fighting itself should not.

With a closer look, we saw that one side of the door, was ajar. The opening was large enough for a person of regular size to get through. Before I could suggest that we should head inside, I noticed that Liri was missing from the group. How she moves that deftly, is beyond me. I looked around, she hadn’t climbed the walls, she hadn’t been falling, I’d probably have heard that. Suddenly she appeared from the door, I shot a look at Mariah, but it did not seem like magic was involved. Liri waved us over; the coast was clear.

The inside of the gatehouse was dark, the air seemed stagnant, a slight breeze came through the opened door, but it felt as if no-one had been here in a while. Liri was already at work opening the next door, I couldn’t see exactly what she was doing, but it seemed to work. A click, and the door could be opened with ease. The light that met us as the door opened up, was almost blinding. The sun gleaming high from above, several of us had our hands on the hilts of our respective weapons, but there wasn’t anyone, or anything for that matter, in the courtyard. Tension seemed to vanish almost entirely, but still there was this awkward sense of something being wrong. The courtyard had signs of trouble, blood splatter here and there, carvings into the walls as if something hit them with great force. There was no direct signs, other than the blood, no abandoned weapons, no pieces of armor, but most importantly; no corpses. I looked over at the blood, perhaps I could discover something, but alas, there didn’t seem to be anything odd about it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the Half-Orc striding across the courtyard with haste, a door in the far end of the courtyard had her attention. She tried to open the door, but finding it locked, she called out for the Halfling to help. I was pretty sure that, had she wanted to, she could have broken the door down with some ease. I could see Liri fiddle with the lock, she had a knack for locks it seemed. As soon as the door was opened, the Half-Orc nearly pushed Liri aside and headed inside. I couldn’t hear the clashing of steel, no cries of combat. Very shortly after entering, both the Halfling and the Half-Orc came out, heaving for air. Both of them were trying to hold their noses, whilst trying not to hurl, guessing something repulsive must have been in the room they opened. Looking around in the monastery, there weren’t a whole lot of windows around, not even crenellations or shooting galleries. In that sense, the construct was very Dwarven, though we Dwarves mostly build like that, because it would be underground. And shooting galleries for crossbowmen and siege equipment were pretty much a must. From my angle, I could see some tables, what looked to be for dining. While I was curious as to why my two companions acted like they did, I also had no intention of heading in there. We had agreed upon clearing out the top levels first, so that, if we were heading deeper inside, we wouldn’t get surprised by someone (or something) laying in ambush.

While this was going on, Mariah and That Tiefling were trying to discover anything new from the gatehouse. To no avail, it seemed, at least I heard no triumphant mutter. The Half-Orc walked, well, rushed, across the courtyard, to a small tower-like struture that was built on it’s own, not visibly connected to the rest of the monastery. This door had no lock, and was opened without issues. I could hear a splash coming from inside, distant and small. Then the squeaking of a poorly oiled hinge. Then another splash, and the Half-Orc coming out with a look of focus on her face. I’m not sure why, but Mariah thought to explore the exact room, that the Half-Orc had just left. Given it’s size, I wouldn’t count on much being in there actually. Another splash. Again the sound of the hinge. Mariah came out, with an old beat-up bucket in her hands, without further warning, she splashed the contents out in the courtyard. Well, she tried to splash it out, it was more of a sticky glide. I have seen some murky, dirty water before, like a stream that came from near where two Trolls had holed up. But even then, the water was still fluent. This water had a greyish, almost black colour to it, and it’s texture was more something gooey than liquid. Mariah looked to ponder the liquid’s nature, as if something about it was familiar to her. After a few moments of her being lost in thought, she attempted to throw something into the liquid. But nothing happened, the thing didn’t being to melt or being consumed.

An increasingly more agitated Paladin stomped towards the next door, only to find it locked. And barked an order to Liri for her to do her craft. The Halfling shrugged her shoulders, and went over, tinkering with the lock shortly, before once again nearly being pushed over as the Half-Orc flung the door open, calling out “Door’s open!”. She didn’t even have her weapon at the ready, as she barged into another room. I was halfway prepared, as I moved over to the side of the opened door, to hear the sound of the Half-Orc hurling up her rations, but aside from the staleness in the air, there was nothing foul here. A thin layer of dust had settled on the tables and benches. Looked like a barracks, but I saw no weapons, armour or training dummies. No forges, grindstones or workbenches. Perhaps I should have been a little more vigilant in paying attention to the knights, I found myself doubting the purpose of coming here at all. Sure, the fellowship and companions were a nice change of pace, but the meager loot, the lacking amount of heroic action and now this, seemingly completely empty monastery. I had made my mind up; if nothing came of this venture, if nothing really was found in this desolate place, I’d head down the mountain again, heading east, if nothing else, I could at least find a suitable plot of land. After that, it was only the matter of gathering building materials, and finding somewhere to buy crops and pigs. There was a sinking feeling in my gut though; something here was not right, and it wasn’t just the lack of loot.

While my mind was set on potentially leaving, the Door-duo was at it again. I was the only one trying to reason that, we had planned to take the upper levels first. It was only when the next door open up to a steep staircase leading down and into the mountain, with only very little light at all, that my words seemed to reach into the Half-Orc’s thick skull. She stopped to think, looking down into the darkness. Thankfully, Mariah the Blue came to my aid, proclaiming that we’d likely have to head down here eventually. I am not sure exactly why, as we could hear nothing and see nothing from the staircase; no signs of life, but Liri decided to lock the door up once more, in hindsight, a wise decision. Instead the Half-Orc headed towards yet another door, opened it and went in. Another dining room, this one clean though. Without checking anything more in the room, the Paladin strode across the room, towards yet another door in the far end. With a firm grip, she opened the door. And as if hit by an invisible fist to the gut, she keeled forward, hurling the breakfast and possibly more, up on the stone-floor. As i was standing in a straight line, I could see straight into a larder, and I swear, I could almost see the fungi and mold from here. Luckily, I could not smell it. I called out to her, high spirited, “Oi, Half-Orc, do you like the tiling of the floor, ya seem very intent on the details of it!” as I was reminded of an old Dwarvish saying; “Only fools rush in, the patient one will make it through more likely.” Sure, there was some honor in getting into a fight first, part of what I admired in the Halfling, but if you aren’t exactly acting brightly or prepared for combat, you’re likely to get into a heap of trouble. And unless you go out in a blaze of glory, the dead are only rarely considered as heroic.

Leaving the contents of her stomach behind, the Paladin seemed overjoyed by getting out in the fresh air of the courtyard. Taking a moment to regain, most of, her composure, she quickly rushed up the stairs, with the Halfling in tow. I think the Half-Orc went for the sake of action, Liri, on the other hand, was likely after loot. Two doors and another staircase was our options here. As expected, the Half-Orc was first to a door, this one unlocked, leading in to a library. Books and knowledge isn’t really my call of port, but I was hoping to find some information on the monastery itself, if I could discover clues leading to treasure or glory, then that would be grand. Plus, even though it was a library, you’d never what could be left of other things of value. A tale from the caravan told of a vain and greedy Human noble, who, in the attempt to reclaim an enchanted sword, literally dug through a pile of Ogre shit. As the tale went, the man DID find the sword, and it did indeed bring him fortune in the rest of his life, though the tale of him waist deep in Ogre shit stuck to him. The point is, I think, that you can find treasure in the strangest places sometimes. There sure was a lot of books, floor to ceiling bookcases, and unfortunately not much else. A couple of sturdy looking furniture, for reading and writing, no doubt, but nothing that looked like it could have secret rooms with gems or other valuables. Right behind me, I was joined by Mariah, I reckon this could be a potential heaven for one like her. I had begun to feel more friendly with her, even despite her being a user of magic and all. Perhaps it was the Athlin guard tabbard? No Athlin guard had ever done wrong by me, and heck knows, I sure wasn’t an easy customer in my early days in Athlin, drinking my last wages away, trying to forget. What I had seen and heard, Athlin guards had a high standard of protectiveness, honesty and a keen sense of justice. Values that I myself found to cling to.

A large book on a pedestal caught our interest, Mariah began thumping through the pages, I glanced in from the side. It was a journal of sorts, seemingly written by someone important within the monastery. But alas, nothing that spoke of valor, loot or unique objects. I turned around, walking out of the library, leaving Mariah with the book, she seemed deeply concentrated in going back through the pages. In the meantime, the others had opened the other door. I wandered in, and found that Tiefling halfway inside a simple chest. He had found some white, simple robes, probably belonging to the monks of this place. Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever did see him wear anything on his torso. No wonder he found the climb up the mountain to be cold. It would not give him protection, but it would like make him look at least a little more decent. I could see the other chests, and an even more aggravated Half-Orc looking like she did not know what to do with herself. If it wasn’t a foolish venture, I’d have offered to wrestle with her, just to let her let some steam off. But before I could even think the thought through, she had already gone and left the room, heading for the stairs to a higher level. I fear what she may do, if an enemy shows up. She is strong, headstrong as well, but her fierce attitude and her current mood is not a good combo. Plus, if we were to engage with another weak enemy, she’d likely yet again take all the kills.

These stairs led up to what looked like the top level. This was good, it meant that we’d be done with this forsaken place, and could head inside. A decrepit silvery tree stood in a plaza. It resembled the crest on our knightly companion’s clothing, and seeing how they seemed extra sullen at the sight of the tree, there probably was a connection. As if working on a clock, the Half-Orc went over to the first door in sight, finding it locked and turned to shout for Liri, only to find the Halfling already at work with the lock. As the door opened, the Half-Orc took only one glance in, then decided that this room wasn’t interesting at all, and scurried over to a sturdy looking door, calling for the Halfling to help. The inside of the room they left, appeared to be an office of some sort, and Mariah went in to seek further knowledge. As the final and last door as opened, things seemed to finally turn out right. An armory of sorts, but alas, only containing staves and the like. No axes, no shields, no crossbows, no armor, not even a sword to boot. The others didn’t seem to mind, as they came out, each carrying a blunt-ended staff each. Didn’t look much like magical staves to me, but I can’t really say that I know much about magic.

We reconvened in the barracks-like room once more. Had the door not been locked, I’m fairly certain that our dear Paladin would have rushed forward without thinking, or waiting for the rest of the party. In the case nothing truly was below the monastery, of course then it wouldn’t be a problem. Mariah had discovered, from the journal in the office and the book in the library, that something, apparently from within the mountain, might be the cause of the undead walking about in hordes. Liri started opening the door, I thought for a second I saw worry in her face, but in the same instance the lock clicked open, a rushed push from the Half-Orc shoved her aside. The stairs seemed steep, and the steps narrow, and judging by our Paladin’s speed and step-length, I was willing to bet we’d see her stumble and tumble down, we could just barely make out the bottom of the stairs in the dark. To our surprise, the Half-Orc maintained to stay upright all the way down, as she reached the bottom she sort of stumbled forward, out of our sight. That’s when we heard a pained, low, and unsettling groan. I had heard a couple of Orcs try to make a coherent conversation, which was not unlike this sound. But where Orcish speech seems to be a series of grunts and aggressive noises, this was more slow and monotone. As we all got down, I believe a few of our hearts may have skipped a beat; our Paladin had stumbled, to her luck, shield first into a grey-ish looking zombie. The skintone wasn’t exactly the same hue as the water from the well, but there were similar points. The remains of the same white robe, we discovered in the bedroom, clutched to the undead monk. Further down the corridor, that seemed to descend slightly, more shapes were shambling around. The one zombie that the Half-Orc had pushed, started slowly, very slowly to turn towards her. It seemed she finally stopped to think, as she signalled to us to follow her. We all moved past this zombie, who didn’t seem to notice us. All of the zombies appeared to be this slow, while we might have stood a chance, fighting an enemy this slow, we instead found it wiser to just move past them, hoping our speed would suffice. I had bad gut feelings about this plan, mostly because we Dwarves aren’t exactly known for feats into sprinting, but fortunately, I was pretty much in the middle of the group, and as we walked in a single line, I would at least have someone at my side to assist me.

The zombies were aware of our presence, but only as we got close and started to move between them. That Tiefling and Liri used their nimbleness to kite between the staggering undead, while the Half-Orc and myself were using our shields to keep the dead at a distance. They were even slower than the time my old caravan fell into a Hobgoblin ambush, the cretins had somehow secured the aid of an Ogre, but the fiend was so slow, that we managed to slay or drive the Hobgoblins off, and still have plenty of time to riddle him with arrows. Mariah and our knightly followers, all without sight attuned to the dark, must have had it rough, it’s hard to say if the undead may have reacted faster, when affected by a torch or another light-source, but none dared to try, it would potentially be suicide. Up ahead the carving of the tunnel seemed to end, bit of a shoddy work, the support pillars did not look well-placed, and the different sized stones didn’t seem to make the tunnel stronger. It would stand, of course, but this certainly wasn’t done by skilled masons or diggers. Stone walls and floor, turned natural, we were no longer in the monastery, we had entered the mountain itself.

Up ahead, through even more zombies, I think I counted a total of nearly sixty of them in total, we scouted a double door, set in a dark metal. It spanned across the entire tunnel, there was no inscriptions on it, no ornate designs. Just plain, dark metal. Four heavy-looking bars spanned in front of the door, two from each side of the tunnel. As we pushed through the final zombies, we must have had about forty feet between the horde and the door. Upon closer inspection, the door and the bars were all set in iron, coarse and rough metal work, but efficient in creating a strong door. As Liri pointed out, looking the doors over for locks, it was a bit strange that the bars where on this side, indicating that this door was meant to keep something in. This was concerning indeed. What ever the creature or force was, the monks had either failed to fight it fully, and just contained it. Or the monks had kept it locked off as a security measure. Finding no locks on the flat iron surface, Liri pointed out that the bars would need to be moved, for the doors to open. She didn’t even try to move them herself, though I can’t say I blame her, the bars did look heavy. Someone, I’m not sure who, suggested that we attempted to find another way through. But none of us had seen any doorways, nothing that looked like it could conceal a hidden passage. The stonework was too obvious. So I called out, perhaps a tad harsh that “We can open the door, and go forward, or we can go backwards, through the zombies once more, and gain nothing. That’s it, we do not have other choices here!”. As if reacting to the claim, the Paladin swiped her shield against one of the bars, but with no other purpose than to let out aggression, it just dinged off. Judging by her feats of strength earlier, I would guess that our Paladin was on par with myself in strength. I glanced, shortly at the others, and thought to myself: “Well, yea, no… That’s not going to happen.” Out of the corner of my eye, the zombies were shambling closer, still not very fast, but now they seemed aware of our presence. We had to move. Now. Without further delay, I went for the lowest bar, and started pulling it out from the door. I felt every bit of my shoulders and upper chest strain, but gritting my teeth, I put my back into it. The iron cried out as the bar began to bend. Feeling that neither my arms nor the bar could move much more, I let go of my grip. I had bent it about a foot or two out from the door, it would suffice. The Half-Orc followed my example, I could see her large muscled biceps swell, and just as the first bar, this one also bent about a foot out. This seemed to drain the Paladin’s strength, so while she regained her composure, I went to bend the third bar. This one was just above my head, I would have trouble reaching the fourth and last one. I felt blood rushing through my veins, the feeling of success, and it was as if this iron bar bent even easier than the first. The Paladin started pulling in the lat bar, but it seemed she had been overexerting herself, the bar barely moved at all. In a moment, as she tried applying more strength that wasn’t there into the pull, she kneeled down on her one knee. It was an opportune moment, using her thigh as a stepping-board, I lept up, pulling my entire weight outwards. The bar shrieked and bent outwards. As soon as there was room, that Tiefling and Liri each pulled their side of the door open, the iron doors pressing against the bend bars, creating an opening deeper into the mountain. As everyone had entered, we pulled the doors to a close behind us again. i doubt the zombies had enough consciousness to be able to pull the door open, had it been a push, we might have been worse off.

The new tunnel was even darker than before, and deep into the mountain, we heard something scuttle about; we were not alone in here…