Post/Author/DateTime	Post
FTracer 12-21-04, 03:54 PM	Our group's DM is unavailable for a few months so we wanted to play something but no one wanted to DM. I stepped up and offered to run either Conan, a superhero game or Eberron. Eberron it was since I had been hyping up Ebberon non stop since getting it. I think two of the guys will be buying the book now due to how well the game is going. I was going to just run the main modules but I tacked on the All Roads Lead to Sharn sidequest and used some of that authors npc's he had made up (I'm sorry I can't find your thread to give you credit!). I also made up a few backstories to go along with it so they all would know each other than meeting in a bar one night and decide to go adventuring. I gave them the Korranberg Chronicle the day after Bonel died and they had wanted to go to his funreal based on the article. In addition, I added another ongoing plot line not related to the modules which over the course of time will be revealed. I've had to go over a few things a couple of times. One, they've never played at first level and kept whining about it. Two, used to powergaming they expect the npc's to pay them loads of gold which I've got to point out they are nobody's right now. Three, they can't just up and fight the city guards if they get ticked off or kill a goblin just because. I'm trying to finish the Sharn book so I can throw the law at them if they cross the line but so far so good and everyone seems to have a fun time. I've never liked DMing in the past but I've gotta say I'm having fun as well running it.
FTracer 12-21-04, 03:56 PM	My friend wrote this up before I wrote my stories. Erik Auburndrake is my character I was going to play when the regular DM comes back, till then he's a npc/plot device. The doors to Luric Auburndrake’s study flew open with a crash that echoed throughout the stately Sharn manor. Luric looked up from his desk to see two youths running into the room. Even as he smiled, his brow furrowed while he straightened the papers he had dropped. “Erik,” he spoke, his rich Elven voice proclaiming, “Son, what have we discussed about barging into my study? If I’d been with business men…” The two boys reached his desk, out of breath from the sprint from the other side of the manor. Finally, Erik caught his breath. “Dad! Dad, we’ve been talking with my scry-pal, she found a really neat animal skull in the woods, can you use The Sending and let us go visit? Please?” Luric studied the two boys before replying, “Erik, Rook came to stay for the week while school is on break, surely he wants to spend time with you, can’t you find something around here to do?” “Master Auburndrake,” Rook spoke up, having finally caught his own breath. “I also know Veer. All three of us scry-pal back and forth. It would actually be pretty neat to meet her in person.” “Do her parents know about this? What do they think?” “Yes, Father,” Erik said. “They know, and don’t mind at all if we come for the day.” Luric smiled again, remembering his own youth, so very, very long ago. “Very well, fetch the Rune of Recall so you can get back.” Erik ran from the room, and returned after a moment, clutching something tightly in his hand. “I’ve got it!” he proclaimed. Luric stepped from around his desk, and let the boys out of the study. Leading them to a tall set of locked double doors, he produced a key from the folds of his fine silken robe. The key unlocked the doors with an echoing clank, and he led them into the room. Going thru a few filing drawers, he produced a scroll. After a few minutes preparation, all was ready. “All right,” he said, unrolling the scroll. “Be home by dark. You know the words to activate the Rune, correct?” Both boys nodded eagerly. “Very well,” Luric said. “Close your eyes. Envision your friend Veer and her house. Ready? Good.” Luric waved his hands in an intricate pattern over the scroll, and read the script printed on it. In the windowless, closed room, a breeze began to swirl around the boys, but disturbed nothing else. It whipped their sleeves and rustled their hair, and a glowing circle began to appear on the floor around them. Luric finished the incantation, and the glowing circle began to rise from the floor. Below the glowing circle, the boy’s feet disappeared as the teleporting circle rose up on them. The boys smiled, and waved at Luric. “Bye, Dad,” Erik said. “We’ll be home tonight. Tell Chef I won’t be here for supper, but he could make us a berry pie for dess….” The boys disappeared as the circle rose above their heads, then the circle and the writing on the scroll faded, as if they never existed. Luric smiled with a sigh, and returned to his study. # # # Veer sat alone in the small room. Items cluttered about the floor and on the cot she sat on. She looked up when she saw a glowing circle appear on her floor. The circle glowed, and began to rise from the floor. Below the circle, she could see four booted feet appear. As the circle rose her two scry-pals appeared in her room, which was far away from Sharn in a village called Goodoak in the country of Cyre. “You made it,” she said, running to the boys. “Erik! Rook! I can’t believe you’re really here.” She hugged the two friends she had never met in person. “Come here, sit down.” She led them to her cot and motioned for them to sit down. She pulled her scry globe off of a chair and set it on her table, and moved the chair in front of them to sit. She smiled broadly at them, they had all discussed meeting before but hadn’t been able to until now. “Erik, I want to know everything about The Sending. Did it hurt? Did it tingle? What was it like?” The boys told her about the sensations of teleporting. They sat in her room trading stories, the early morning light streaming in thru her dirty window, until it was almost noontime. “You did not!” Veer pushed Rook on the shoulder. “Let me see it.” “Show her, Rook” Erik prompted. Rook smiled and removed the leather half-bracer from his left wrist. Pulling up his sleeve, he revealed an image on his arm. Half tattooed, half branded on his arm was the outline of a pouncing lion. “It’s not a dragonmark or anything,” he said. “It’s just something the guys at the Arcanix war academy are doing. He’s the mascot of our house.” Veer took his hand and pulled his arm closer for a better look. “Cool,” she whispered. “For crying out loud,” Erik said, rolling his eyes. “Hey! How’d we forget? Did you really see a fight? Are they still near here?” Veer looked up, remembering why the boys had actually come to visit. “Yes!” she said. “Just before dawn, past the hills above town. You didn’t tell your dad, did you?” The boys shook their heads no. “There was definitely something going on. Come on, we’ll head up there.” She stood, and pulled Rook to his feet. She lead them to the door, then looked down and giggled, realizing she’d never let go of Rook’s hand. “Hang on a minute,” she said. She knelt in front of the door, and her hands moved quickly over the lock. Finally she stood and opened the door, the trap being safely disabled. “Okay, it’s safe now.” She led them out of the room, into the upstairs hallway of a tavern. She pulled the door closed behind them, and worked again on the lock. She stood, a smug smile on her face. “Let’s see anybody get thru that and still have five fingers,” she said. She led them down the hallway, past someone sleeping that she mumbled was called Al Coholic by the other patrons, and down the stairs. The lunchtime crowd at the tavern was already en masse, and the noises and smells wafted up to them as they made their way down. Halfway down the stairs, Veer stopped. She cocked her head to the side, and then looked up at the boys. “Did you hear something?” She continued after they indicated no, but stopped again before the last step. When she looked at them, the boys only shrugged. She smiled and led them towards the door. She stopped by the door before opening it. “What am I thinking? Stay here, I’ll get Marley to fill our waterskins and a hunk of bread and cheese.” She made her way past the crowded tables to the bar, hopped up on a stool, and the barmaid quickly plunked down a mug in front of her. Veer held up the waterskins and spoke hurriedly to the barmaid, but the boys couldn’t hear what she was asking. The barmaid went to reach for the mug, but Veer waived her away. She picked up the mug, threw her head back, and then she was turned around smiling at her friends, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Erik stood in awe, and Rook just laughed when they realized she’d just drank a pint. Erik began to fidget like he was uncomfortable there. Rook was all smiles, he couldn’t get enough of the adventure. He took in the sights and sounds, species he’d heard about but never met, and something big in the corner with two heads that he’d never even heard of. His smile faded when he felt rather than heard a dull thump. It reverberated in his chest, and he looked over at a nearby table and saw the drink in a clear glass ripple and move. Some tingle of recognition moved across his mind, but he couldn’t place the feeling. He was about to dismiss it altogether, when another thump, this time loud enough to be heard over the lunch crowd, again pushed into him. Rook turned to the door, and pulled open the peep slot to look outside. His eyes widened, and he slammed the peep slot shut. He turned from the door, grabbed Erik by the arm, and screamed “Run!” as he dove behind a table, pulling Erik with him. Before the boys landed, the door of the tavern exploded inward, showering several patrons with fiery wooden splinters and debris. The door was no more, and the splintered doorframe roared with fire. Most of the front wall began to smoke and pop. Fiery debris ignited the alcohol that was sloshed on many tables, and the tavern was quickly filling with smoke and flame. The boys stood, and looked around the room. Some of the less intelligent patrons tried to put out the fire on their table by pouring their drinks on the fire, only to be greeted by higher and hotter flames as their ale quickly added fuel to the fire. Someone entirely engulfed in flames ran past the boys and out the remains of the front door, only to collapse a few yards outside the tavern. They made their way thru the noise and chaos of the crowd towards the bar, and met Veer halfway there. She reached up and brushed her thumb across Erik’s temple. “You’re hurt,” she said, showing him the blood on her thumb. “It’s nothing. We gotta get out of here, is there a back way out?” Erik said. Veer nodded and grabbed both boys’ hands. “Out the back. Quickly!” She began to lead them towards the bar, but screams from the kitchen made her pause. Someone came thru the kitchen door, but slumped on the bar, a flaming arrow sticking up from his back. “Not that way,” Rook said. “We get shot if we leave, or burn up in here. Isn’t there any other way out?” “Can’t you ‘wizard’ the flames out?” Veer shouted. Her tone was accusing, not questioning. “I’m training in the war college, I make fires, not put them out.” Rook looked about the room, then ran to the bar and returned with his hands full. “Come on, we’re getting out of here.” He led them to the front, flames now roaring floor to ceiling. He opened one of the containers he carried, squeezed, and sprayed Veer with the contents of one of the waterskins. “Run now!” he shouted, and shoved her towards the hole that had been the door. She ran, and he began to spray Erik with the other water skin. She passed thru the flames, and her clothes sizzled and steamed but did not burn. She ran past the smoldering patron that had collapsed outside the tavern, and knelt beside the well in the street. Erik burst thru the flaming opening, and stumbled over the dead patron. He rolled away and scrambled to Veer, his clothes also steaming but not burned. He caught his breath, and they both watched the tavern, waiting for Rook to appear. The flames intensified and burning wood began to collapse into the doorway. After what seemed like an eternity, Rook passed thru the flames, dodged the dead patron, but dropped and rolled on the ground. Veer and Erik realized his shirt was on fire, and ran to him, kicking dirt and slapping at the flames until they had extinguished the fire. “I’m all right,” Rook said, spitting out dirt. They helped him to his feet, and all looked around. Strangers ran thru the streets, some shouting warnings at the villagers. Many of the strangers appeared to be soldiers, others were clerics or mages. “Run for safety!” “The village is lost. Flee to the south, do not go north!” “Take what food and water you can, and leave everything else. We are overrun!” “The battle,” Veer said. “They must’ve got past our lines. I never thought the village would be in danger.” They stood among the chaos, watching people running in the streets. A large figure hobbled past them, and sat with his back against the well. The figure lowered a huge sword to the ground. Hurriedly moving up to the large figure, a dwarf in cloak and battle armor moved beside the large figure. “You better take cover, youngins,” he called to them. Rook silently cursed himself, feeling like a fool. These were the conditions he trained for, and he just stood there like a lemming waiting to die. He led his friends to the well, and huddled for cover beside the strangers. The large figure, he realized, was a real Warforged. He stared in amazement as the dwarf held up a dismembered arm to his large companion. “Don’t worry, Prime. I can fix it and we’ll get you back in the fight,” the dwarf was saying. Only then did Rook realize that the dwarf was holding the Warforged’s own arm. “You kids should run and hide,” the Warforged said. It’s male voice sounded metallic and hollow, but still seemed filled with concern for the youths. “Thron,” he said to the dwarf, “forget about that and get them to safety.” “And where’n you suppose I find that, genius?” the dwarf snorted back. “Just sit still. You kids, keep an eye out for troublemakers while I fix him up, okay?” “Veer, which way is safe?” Rook asked. “South. That way,” she pointed. “You can get to Tradewind Village in about six hour’s walk.” Erik slapped his forehead. “Duh!” he said, and then grimaced as he registered the pain from slapping the cut in his forehead. “The Rune of Recall. Me and Rook can get out of here in an instant, if you can get Veer to safety.” The dwarf looked at them, exasperated. “Well, use it, lad! Get out of here before it’s too late. We’ll take care of your girlfriend.” “She’s not his girlfriend,” Rook said, just a little too quickly. “And the Rune, it’s back in her room, upstairs.” He pointed towards the flaming tavern. Prime lifted his gargantuan sword, and plunged it several feet straight down into the ground. He grasped the handle, and used it to pull himself to his feet. He easily pulled the sword back out of the ground. “I’ll get it. Thron, you stay with them and keep them safe.” Before the others could protest, he was moving determinedly toward the flaming front of the tavern. Before he reached it, the tavern exploded as the ale stores finally caught fire. The force of the blast shattered nearby windows and knocked the youths from their feet. Prime merely set his stance, and leaned his shoulder into the force and stood immobile thru it all. He turned back to the others, and said “I guess you’re leaving the old fashioned way.” The one-armed Warforged crossed the street to his companions, and he began to run towards them. He hefted his huge sword, and when he reached them, he was swinging in the direction of the three screaming, startled youths. His stroke was aimed, however, to intersect an intricately carved staff. The three looked up from the ground, and saw that Prime had not swung at them, but rather at a man in red robes that had moved soundlessly up behind them. Rook took in the stranger in a glance, and knew his nature. The man was obviously some kind of wizard. Among his red robes he wore several belt pouches, necessary for certain spell components. His staff was carved at the top like a bird’s claw, and held a large crystal. The top of the staff was blackened like burned wood. His bald head had a few small scars, and a large one that ran diagonally from the back of his left side of his head down to the bottom of his right eye. The wizard smiled evilly with yellowed teeth. “Well, well, what have we here,” he said. Prime was again swinging his huge greatsword at the wizard, while Thron pulled the three youths out from under them. The wizard tossed his staff overhead, and clapped his hands together, catching and holding the Warforged’s sword inches from his face. “They want to play, Razorclaw,” the wizard said. He nodded upwards, and the Warforged followed his glance up to the raven above. The raven familiar had caught the wizard’s staff in the air, and beat its wings to hover above them. Prime tried to pull his sword away, but the wizard impossibly held it fast. “Be careful,” the wizard taunted, “you might get hurt.” His smile faded into an evil sneer and he shoved the sword away, knocking Prime from his feet. Razorclaw dropped the staff into his open hands. Thron fumbled for something on his belt, pulled out a device which he pointed at the wizard. A blast of electricity jumped from the device toward the evil one. But the wizard held his staff in front of him like a shield and blocked the blast, sending arcs of electricity and the smell of ozone all around him. Prime had gotten on his feet and was again charging at the wizard. The wizard pointed his staff at Prime and sent him a bolt of lightning of his own. Prime dropped his sword, and was flung backwards, landing in a pile of flaming debris. The wizard twirled his staff overhead, then thrust it backwards like a samurai sword and struck Erik squarely in the family jewels. The air left Erik, and he slumped to the ground. Thron scrambled backwards, but the wizard easily caught up to him, and hefted the dwarf off the ground with one hand on his throat. “We’ve crushed your defenders, little one,” he spat. “I’ll own these lands, and march over the entire countryside.” He began to squeeze the dwarf’s neck. “Pity you won’t be here to see the Dwarven Halls fall before me!” The wizard began an evil chant, black magic gathered around him. His voice echoed as the swirling black energy coalesced about him. His eyes flashed red, and the dwarf knew he was about to die. Rook began a quick chant of his own, “Usa te Forceluke,” and stretched his hand towards Prime’s dropped sword. The heavy sword twitched and shivered, then began to drag as the unseen Magehand spell pulled it to Rook. Razorclaw saw this, and squawked and dove at Rook. Rook heard a feral growl and felt a blur of motion move past him, and the bird began to squawk in panic. Veer had leaped onto the bird familiar, and the two of them were struggling, rolling on the ground. Rook caught the handle of the heavy greatsword, and could barely lift it but he managed to get to his feet. He looked over to Erik and nodded. Erik saw the signal, and crawled up behind the wizard, and wrapped his arms around the wizard’s legs tightly so he could not take a step. The wizard ignored this, and continued concentrating on his incantation. His words reached an evil echoing crescendo, and Thron squeezed his eyes shut, ready to meet death. Thron felt a splash of warm blood on his face, then a thump as he hit the ground. After a moment, he realized he felt no pain and dared to open one eye. Looking down on his chest, he saw purple energy tracing over the wizard’s severed hand. Dark magic from whatever evil spell the wizard was casting consumed the hand, and it turned to ash on the dwarf’s chest. The wizard stared in disbelief at his empty wrist, then at Rook. Rook held the handle of Prime’s greatsword, and the blood on it also sizzled with magic energy. The wizard roared more in anger than pain, and reached with his other hand towards Rook, but stopped halfway. The wizard clutched his side, and panic played across his face. Veer stood, and turned back towards them all. Her features seemed canine, and she spat feathers from her mouth. In her left hand she held Razorclaw’s body, and in her right hand she held Razorclaw’s head. She snarled and dropped both, and began to walk towards the wizard. Thron regained his footing, and scanned about quickly for a weapon. Having none available, he did what any self-respecting dwarf would do. He lowered his helmeted head, and charged the wizard. His hard battle helm struck the wizard in the same spot the wizard had struck Erik. The wizards eyes bulged, and his cheeks puffed as he lost his breath. Erik released the wizard’s legs, and clenched a fist in victory. “Yes!” he shouted. A moment of calm amid the battle, they all stood around the disbelieving wizard. “I am beset, by dwarves and children,” he mumbled to himself. He stared at his bleeding stump, and a shadow passed over him, blocking out the sun. Prime stood before the wizard, smoking, and in spots glowing, from the fire he had laid in. “That looks really bad,” he said. “Here, let me give you a hand.” Prime reached out, his hand glowing like a fire poker, and clenched the bloody stub of the wizard’s arm. Blood sizzled and flesh seared as Prime squeezed, cauterizing the wound, and driving the wizard to his knees. Prime let go, and the wizard opened his mouth as if to scream, but no sound came out. Erik smashed a wooden board onto the back of the wizard’s head, so hard that the board broke and a loud thunk echoed in the street. The wizard fell over, breathing but unconscious. Thron tossed the wizard’s staff down the well. Rook handed Prime his sword, who nodded and said, “You did well, young man. Now let’s get you all to safety.” Veer looked in sadness at the tavern that had been her home, now only so much burning rubble like many other buildings in the village. She turned to the wizard and pulled a pouch off his belt. When she stood, she spat one last feather on him. “Come on, now” Thron said. “Veer, stay beside me and lead us south. Prime, bring up the rear, and watch for any more dang spellflingers.” They had met mere minutes ago, but left as comrades. In a few minutes time, sharing a single battle, they knew enough about each other that would forge bonds that time could not break. # # # Later, back at the village, the wizard woke. He crawled over to the corpse of his familiar. Sitting on the ground, a tear escaped, and he quickly cursed himself for the display of weakness. He rolled up his sleeve and began to tear cloth to use to tend his wound. Above the stump of his wrist, four separate symbols were half tattooed, half branded onto his forearm. Among them was the pouncing lion. “You’ve made an enemy today,” he said, looking to the south at the path he knew the companions had taken. He hissed, “There will be a reckoning….” EDIT: I just noticed he made Erik's father an elf. His dad is actually a human and his mother an elf.
FTracer 12-21-04, 04:00 PM	I wrote this up the same time my friend did but he finished earlier. 994 YK. It was well before early dawn in Cyre. Gal’ Do’ Ka looks down below him to the valley, looking for his commander below. Grinning savagely the hobgoblin waves to Tharashk then slinks into dark foliage nearby. Gal was looking forward to this particular day. “Well, this is where we part as comrades; we’ll rendezvous at the town of Scarborough as in the plan.” Captain Gerard d’ Tharashk said. As he vaulted onto his steed, Kith Eran and Rezzo Taganathas rode their mounts up to join him. Normally they would appear to be odd looking companions to be joining the captain. Kith was a bard from Sharn of quite some beauty and skill, no one knew why she would give up a life of fame to be in the thick of battle but all that knew her were glad she was part of the team. Resso’s painted skull face mask was particularly gruesome in the dead of morning, perhaps shadowing his fate to come. The plan was that the four would ride off and hide, try to assassinate the enemy warband’s leader from behind as the remaining soldiers of the unit would engage the force. Lieutenant Falin Rihir, second in command would lead his men to almost certain doom if Ralkeraith’s forces could not be stopped. Hopefully with Ralkeraith slain, his forces would divide since his presence alone seemed like it was the only thing holding the warband together. The warband had been hitting Aundair supply lines for months. Captain Tharashk had been charged with the task of assembling a search party and hunting the vermin down. In two months time, Tharashk had been too late to save various villages pillaged as well as the supply train raids. Due to a well paid off informant, the group had a lead about Ralkeraith’s movements, in a few short hours he would be crossing into Cyre’s borders looking for more innocents to slaughter. Today would be different; today fate was on their side. The others watched the captain and his small group leave up the valley. Rook chimed in the same thoughts everyone else had. “Oh great, the high and mighty paladin’s gonna return just in time to save our sorry hides! Once again it’s up to the grunts to take the fall when mister hero takes the easy route and all the glory. It would be nice for once if mighty breeches could say to the general,” Rook, rambling on in an approximation of the captain’s voice, “Yes, if it wasn’t for my boys, the whole nation would have gone to (editted, not sure why it didn't edit, not that it was super bad) this day! Not to mention, the time Rook saved my worthless arse! I mean come on; I’m looking forward to some freakin fame and women throwing themselves on me …er, us.” “That’s assuming we survive this encounter old friend”, Erik said. “We were never told the exact complement of Ralkeraith’s warband. I suspect Gal knows, but that twisted freak choose not to share the information with us save the captain. If we had only knew what we were in for when we signed up for the war just a few years back…. Sometimes it feels a lifetime ago. Well, it would seem our fates are in the hands of the Sovereign Host again.” Erik Auburndrake stroked his beard deep in thought; pondering and praying about how the upcoming events would turnout. Probably why everyone got along with him so well, he was fairly easygoing for a House Deneith lord’s son. Erik would most likely not manifest a dragonmark since he was a half elf; his father married an Aerenal elf, years ago. Rather than work in the family business, he choose to join the Aundair army with his friends Rook and Veer. All of them were looking for adventure and Erik was spending much of his free time trying to understand why he wasn’t like other clerics he met. All of them prayed constantly to gain their god’s favor, yet for Erik it came freely like breathing air. “Stow that talk you two, I’m sure the captain knows what’s he’s doing. I’m not thrilled about the prospect of getting overrun either but let’s not kill the morale around here totally eh?” Lieutenant Falin said gruffly as he walked up to them. “Doesn’t look we’ll have to wait too long for company”, Rook pointedly looking at the horizon. Two dozen figures dotted the entrance to the valley. Goblins, gnolls and humans crackled in glee when they saw the three “merchants” trapped before them. So far it didn’t look that bad, the odds about even. Then they saw a two headed ogre stomp up behind the raiders. “So that explains why some of our folk were found impaled by trees…” Lieutenant Falin said. “I don’t see Ralkeraith among them.” All was silent for a brief moment then the warband charged down into the valley. Erik, Rook and Falin kept up the act of scared merchants until the last possible second. They threw back their cloak’s revealing themselves to be armored and weapons at hand. Prime, one of the group’s warforged burst out of one the wagons, taking off a human’s head and heading for the frontline chargers. Thron Ironforge was now seen standing from the torn wagon Prime had just left, it was apparent that he had just infused Prime for the battle. Brain, the warforged wizard was standing next to him, preparing to cast a spell at the advancing horde. Veer, Brylar and Thyra Witchwood erupted out of the other wagon; it had been flipped on its side. They had made it look like one of the wagon’s wheels had shattered, with a little help from Prime. Thyra set a spear in time to catch a goblin in the gut; its momentum driving the spear further into its body. Veer disemboweled another goblin when it came too close to Thyra. Brylar bounded ahead of the pair, shifting as he ran up beside Prime. The two dispatched a couple of armored warriors in mere seconds. Prime started to turn and nod thanks then all of the sudden; Brylar was crushed by a giant club. The club pulled back revealing its owner. A stupidly gapped toothed, smiling two headed ogre. Well, one was smiling; the other seemed to have a good time picking its own nose. Then it swung again at the warforged. Erik and Thorn were doing their best holding off the raiders so Rook could cast his spells. The men surrounded Lieutenant Falin, he had taken a gruesome swipe to his leg and it was all he could do to manage to keep firing his crossbow. Veer and Thrya seemed to have the same results, barely holding their own. Prime and the two headed ogre clashed back and forth, his sword versus their mighty club. Prime’s blade had been enhanced by Thorn Ironforge only seconds before the ogre closed the distance between the two. Using his incredible strength and skill, it took Prime all he had not to be crushed under the ogre’s might. Although it might have been almost for naught, the ogre’s club finally got all it’s might in one blow, shattering Prime’s great sword in twain. An incredible roar manifested in the distance, the thundering noise arrived in seconds followed by a powerful shockwave of force. Brain was in the mist of casting another spell when his spell reacted with the unknown force. The results were disastrous. His spell was just casting when the magical energy traveled back up his arms and soaked inside him. Brain looked confused for a brief second then he exploded, his body becoming shrapnel and his head traveled for miles before it came back in contact with land. Prime was knocked on his back from the shockwave, the ogre amazingly still standing. It shook its heads for a brief moment and started to rear back, its club starting to arc down on Prime’s prone body. Suddenly there is an odd dull pitched whine getting louder and louder and something busts out of the ogre’s chest. The object then buries itself just past Prime’s head. The ogre’s faces hold a stunned look before it drops to its knees and falls forward, Prime managing to roll out of its way. Looking around Prime spots what killed the ogre, a huge shard of metal wedged in the ground, barely vibrating from the tremendous force that sent it. He reached for it, pulling it lose, spinning around Prime looks for his next foe. Only to see the remaining raiders flee before the group. The warband had been used to harassing old people, rookie soldiers, women and children but not a group of well trained warriors and a supernatural phenomenon. They had won the day but at a high cost. Brylar was beyond help and Brain could not be repaired and some unknown reason, it vexed Erik to fully heal Lieutenant Falin. The area had changed as well. It was like a grey mist had descended upon them in the twilight yet it should have been noon. With heavy hearts the group gathered what they could and managed to slip back over the border. When they arrived in Scarborough, they saw the village had suffered from the shockwave as well. When they opened the local tavern’s door they were not surprised that the captain and his men did not arrive. Four years later “I hope they can make it, it would be good to see them all again….I...I have to make peace with what I have done.” Falin tells his wife. He limps to the balcony using a cane and gives messages to a courier, “please take these to House Sivis at once.” A few weeks later in different parts of Khorvaire “It’s about that time I suppose. Better to get busy living than dieing. Can’t let those kids get into too much trouble with me.” Thron muttered as he past his house, the sold sign put up an hour before. Prime walks thru out the door of a House Cannith outpost treading towards a stagecoach. Rook and Veer met at the Arcanix, it’s been a long time since the friends saw each other, Veer runs up to Rook and gives him a bear crushing hug. A note from Erik came a day earlier to Rook explaining that due to family matters he would have to meet them in Sharn. Thyra Witchwood dons her cloak, heading out to join her guild mates to protect a wealthy merchant gallivanting in Sharn tonight. She folds the note up in her pocket and heads out into the night. Erik stood over the grave of his father, he attended the funeral late. He couldn’t stand to see his mother fawning over her newest consort, a human male in his forties. He made a vow he would keep true to himself and honor his father’s memory. Erik took out a well folded note from his cloak. He reread it again. All it said was this, “Friends and comrades, it’s been four long years and now I feel I must tell you something that has been gnawing at my very soul. I’ve enclosed a letter of credit to all of you so you can travel to Xandra, from there you can take the stagecoach to Sharn. Please hurry; it is a matter of great importance.” Erik walked away with a cool breeze on his back, said a silent prayer to the Sovereign Host and didn’t look back.
FTracer 12-21-04, 04:05 PM	Lt.Falin was quickly renamed Lt.Dan by my player's but they never got to talk to him. He and Thyra were found slain in at the tavern the group was to meet them at. CSI mode kicked in and only found a few clues. One clue suggusted by the method of death, Gal’ Do’ Ka killed them. Erik was kinapped and replaced by a changling in the night by some other faction. The same changling was killed in the Forgotten Forge by the warforged scout in the sewers. By now you can tell no npc is safe in my game. And what happened to Erik..... A knock at the door disturbed his mediations; Erik got up off his knees and walked to the door. When he opened the door he’d assumed it was Rook wanting to make one more last run on the Broken Anvil’s buffet. Oh well, Erik didn’t feel like hitting the hay yet and someone needed to keep Rook out of trouble. With a big grin on his face he opened the door and the look on his face quickly turned to surprise. He didn’t expect to see her after all this time. He didn’t see the brass knuckles off to the side; punch him in the head either. Much later….. His thoughts were jumbled, his focus splinted. He couldn’t keep his thoughts straight to think, let alone cast a spell. He was somewhere dark and dank, his arms chained to the ceiling above. He was wearing some rough spun clothing; everything else had been taken from him. He saw some of his processions on a table thirty feet away and by testing the strength of the chains, the table might as well been thirty miles away. A sinister yet familiar voice began speaking behind him. “Well devoted servant of the Host”, the speaker sneered, “it’s about time you awoke. But then again we do have quite abit of drugs coursing through your veins.” The voice moved to the front, not yet facing him. It was a tall humanoid in a rich black cloak, the glint of plate mail could be seen. “You were always the most trustworthy of the group Erik…well one would hope, being a holy man and all.” He chuckled at some private joke of his which Erik didn’t find to amusing. It was taking all of Erik’s concentration to follow the cloaked man’s conversation. “Well enough of this, my time here if short. As much as I’d like to torment you, I need to know what Lieutenant Falin was going to speak to you about. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Velerak. He can be quite….persuasive.” When the cloaked man turned around, Erik’s blood chilled to his bones. Not only was this the second person he never thought he’d see again but the realization of the cloaked man’s agenda was all to apparent. The cloaked man, smiling wickedly left Erik hanging. Erik’s brain wracking itself as it was finally piecing together years of clues, the drugged haze almost began to melt away before another figure came into view. It was Velerak…….a mind flayer.
Rinna 12-22-04, 11:16 AM	Excellent prose! Very well written. I'm really liking Erik, Rook, and Veer. What is Veer, exactly? I thought she was human, but then she bit off the head of the raven...is she a shifter? Apparently Erik's half elf. What about the others? Really liking it, though. I'm curious as to how what will happen, and what this letter is all about. I love hearing about everyone's campaigns. Rinna
FTracer 12-22-04, 12:22 PM	Hmm, yeah I probably should have said what that character's names and class are. ;-) Everyone started at 1st level and currently still are. Erik Auburndrake, half-elf. Favored Soul (minis handbook) Rook Isenguard, human warmage (minis handbook) Veer, shifter barbarian Thorn Ironforge, dwarf artificer Prime, warforged fighter No one ever wants to be the cleric so I end up playing one. I don't mind since cleric's are quite versatile in 3.5. I thought playing a favored soul would be an interesting change. Since our DM will not back for awhile and the party seemed to be blowing through some of the encounters I thought making Erik MIA would slow them up abit. In All Roads Lead to Sharn, I changed it so that the warforged was just trying to steal the carriage to go directly to Sharn than make any pitstops. Veer almost fell trying to get out but thanks to an action point she made it back in. The gnome lady was getting on Veer's nerves as well. Prime wasn't so lucky getting out, he failed his roll so bad an action point wouldn't matter. He fell out and suffered a decent amount of damage but not deadly. It took him awhile to catch up after the carriage stopped later. Rook and Veer took on the warforged as Thron calmed the gnome down. Veer scored max damage so rather than having the warforged just drop I said his knee got sliced off and tumbled, crashing into a tree when the carriage speed off. The group returned the carriage and received 32 gp for bringing back the carriage. They whined about the money but I had to remind them that they're 1st level and don't expect people to throw money at them. Currently we're on the Forgotten Forge adventure. So far everything's going as it should. Except they want a money reward for the journel which I said Elayden would think it over. I'd assume she would buy it but I'm not sure of it's worth. The group had alot of fun fighting in the sewers due to the "pooh" vents. The goblin merchant was dragged along with them and after the fight he got nailed by a vent. Everyone had a good laugh since I was rolling the "pooh" die in front of them when the goblin got nailed. The look on their faces when I told them that Erik was backstabbed dead by the warforged scout started turning white into a changling was priceless. "Did we know we was a changling?" It might that they realized there goes the free healing services. Since it was running late we ended on a cliffhanger as part of the party is running from the swarm and the other two ran right into where the plague rats were. Next thursday we'll pickup after christmas.
FTracer 12-22-04, 12:34 PM	I'll be running the group through Shadows of the Last War, Whispers of the Vampire Blade then Grasp of the Emerald Claw. I'll decide on how well they'll do on if/when Erik makes his return. If the DM isn't back by then I'll have the group encounter the villains of the side plot head on. In the WOTC adventures I'll be throwing in some of the side plot villains. I like having the mulitple factions interfering with the pc's and recurring villains, something I've never tried before.