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#1 need_a_life Aug 23, 2008 6:33:09

Hello, everybody! Normally, I wouldn't even bother posting this here, but considering the all-time low of activity on these boards, I'd like to tell a story... The current campaign takes place around 1008 YK, as a continuation of an earlier campaign where our GM ran the Red Hand of Doom. Having converted to 4E we're now running a module set 10 years after the Red Hand of Doom. The main character of this story is a warforged, who used to go by the name "Hel Kaakhaar" - an old Dhaakani title that refers to incredible skill of arms - but has abandoned that name by now. You see, when the Red Hand of Doom came to the city of Brindol, Hel Kaakhaar was convinced they could hold them off, no problems. After all, they were all untrained, undisciplined hobgoblins and between him and his comrades skills and their preparations, the hobgoblins would be defeated. When the city walls fell, he didn't worry, there were still pit traps, barricades and plenty of soldiers inside the walls. When a dragon torched a whole neighbourhood before him and his allies managed to bring it down, his heart fell and when the last of his allies fell in an enemy charge, he felt the fear of defeat very hard indeed. At this point, we were actually me [Warforged Swordsage/Warblade/Crusader] and the wizard [Dwarf Wizard/Master Specialist (Conjuration)] left, however while I was at full hit points(!), he had cast his last spell. At this point, him and I fled. Fleeing through the sewers, the warforged who'd been Hel Kaakhaar made his way out of the city, leaving the people inside it to be massacred by the horde. He never looked back as he ran, unable to accept what he'd just done. When he finally stopped running, he had crossed from Breland into Thrane. He ended up in a Thranish town, where he immediately sook out a Church. He'd never been religious himself and neither had his companions been, so he just chose the one he spotted first; a Church of the Silver Flame. As he walked in for the first time, he saw a statue of Tira Miron fighting a cat-like demon, while a winged serpent enveloped seemed to seperate them both from the world with its body. Mystified, he fell to his knees. His next eight years were spent helping the local priest prepare for sermons, help gather donations for the poor and so on. He even sold his old equipment so that more people might be clothed and fed. And for eight years, he was content to serve the Flame. Then, two years ago, he gave up. He couldn't live a life in hiding anymore. It had been his fault that Brindol had fallen and he hadn't even returned to search for survivors. Now that he had joined the Order of Ministers the burden of his greatest sin weighed heavier than ever upon his heart. He wrote a letter to Flamekeep, explaining his role in the events eight years prior and requested that he be allowed to travel to Brindol to atone for these sins. Today, two years later he received his reply. The Old high priest of the Silver Flame Church in Brindol had passed and none of the acolytes remaining in the temple were deemed well-educated enough to actually run the church, even if they were good enough to hold a sermon or two (the former high priest had been very weak towards the end, and they'd had to take over his sermons on more than one occasion). He would be that new priest. *** In the current plot-line the city of Brindol has just been attacked by hobgoblins who killed several people, kidnapped several others, raided the old warmuseum and set the city on fire. The raiders were wearing symbols reminiscent of the Red Hand of Doom. And one of the few surviving war-veterans of the Battle at Brindol, there is no question about what he should do about people who would threaten this city once again. So, what do you think?