Tales By The Fire

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  Tales by the Fire XP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  • Voight

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  Is this still a thing by any other DMs? If not, this should be deleted.
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  Summoner's Stories
  • Fraoch

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  Salute
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  Forums vs Wiki - Where to post.
  • morikahn

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  War Stories
  • Caoimh

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  The huge Peltarch Siege Ballista firing at enemy positions during the eastlander war:- "General Lavindo stood upon the platform, gazing back calmly at the already battered eastlander positions. He uttered four words… "Death to Peltarch's enemies". In a moment of firing the long hours of preparation and surprise was ready to be unleashed upon Peltarch's enemies, and in that moment the eastlander positions became as ash, weapons, bodies and the ground itself became as one. And death followed after..." Extract from the Memoirs of Barrim Asbravn.
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  Stories of Kanen Hightower
  • Kanen_Hightower

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  And what a mark, what a mark. To this day i still think of him and regrett that i didnt return to the servers when he still was alive. I hope i left half as much of of a mark on him as has left on me. I had to stop playing cause of RL though… can't bring myself to read the rest(the parts im not in) of it since i always planned having my toon return to the server and turn his life upside down again. :x :x :twisted: oh well once again i come here to pay my respects. Much love to all of u who ran this server and played with me while i was still hooked on this. Morgan Hearst, Attentus Vernet, Vinessa, arUlric... and many many more. It was and hopefully still is for all of you who still play. Pure Magic. love, Cila Denòere
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  The Farmer's Almanac
  • Atel

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  17th Alturiak, 1568 ~Flurries early, pristine and pearly. Winter's come calling! Can we endure so premature a falling? Some may find this trend distressing- others bend to say a blessing over sage and onion dressing~ Entry Two In my life time since taking the oaths of the druids, I have always dreamed of tasks that my goddess Sheela Peryroyl would have me do. Ways in which I could serve my people, ways I could help the farmers among them, things I would do that would keep the line between what is civilized and what is wild firm. Occasionally, these dreams would even be ways I could council a couple having trouble, once when I was young these dreams of helping a couple were about myself and a women I hope to never have to see again. But my own failings aside, the dreams are what always guided me, helped me, shown me what I need to see or ponder on in order to be better. But since the defeat of the demons my dreams have been quiet of late. The sense of listlessness I’ve felt of late has grown into a full sense of lethargy. I aid the farmers and wilds around the city where I can but there is not a lot to do there, they have their feet under them, most know what they are doing, I am simply here to support. But supporting is no longer enough, and my mind seems to be playing tricks on me these days. The other day I finally had a dream again but it wasn’t the kind one wants to have. I dreamed of my lost love, the woman that nearly destroyed me once, Lilly Harrowren, Not a mistake I’ll make twice is what I say in my mind, but my heard would gladly go through that mess again if it had the chance. So far, I haven’t given it the chance. As promised I sent a letter to my brother, Zander, who will tell my sisters as well. All of them helped me through that time, helped me stay in the right path. I promised Zander after everything had blown over that if I thought about her or dreamed of her again that I would contact him, and contact him I did, though I haven’t heard back yet. In the mean time I will continue on my current path, should the dreams of Lilly continue, I’ll record it here for history’s sake. For now, time will tell. Notes from the field There is a slight problem with cold mold wanting to grow on the crops of a field nearer a small family cemetery. Herbs have been applied to the fence line to help curb the spread of spores that direction.
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  From The Private Journal of Carol Nightinggale
  • Necrofai

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  Hey again, it's been a long time since we've talked! Sorry about that, I've just been distracted alot these days. Recently we've been having alot of trouble with dark dwarves so I went down to the hold to help out. Everyone seemed super on edge and when we were finally attacked it was wave upon wave of undead. Then they appeared, huge floating head with tons of eyes!!!! I'd never seen one before so I decided to call them Bobbleheads. Once everyone focused on the Bobblehead it fell quickly. All seemed fine until we heard a cry from upstairs. A few adventures charged upstairs to see what was happening but everything seemed fine so we left. Thinking back that might not have been the best idea based on what happened later.. Anyways, we went back down fought more undead and Bobbleheads before the dark dwarves called a truce. This was only after one of their assassins got in and murdered the town healer. On guard most of the archers and magicers were sent to guard the gate while the heavy fighters took the fight to the dark dwarves the next day. So we waited anxiously the ground shaking beneath us as we waited to see what would happen. That's when the roof caved in and everything went crazy! Dark dwarves came down from the ceiling and one gravely injured Lady Kathea who retreated behind me to recover. When the dwarf ran to follow her I shouted out encouragements to boost moral. Unfortunately that also meant the dwarf turned to smack me. I personally think he just hated bards.... Anyways I ducked away cause he hit hard!!! That's when a Bobblehead came in through the roof. It fixed one eye on me and then nothing. All I remember is waking up on the floor of the Bard College with a sore back and a throbbing headache. So I sit in the commons penning this and nursing this nasty headache. I hope to talk to you later but for now I must bid you.... Good Night!
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  WINGS
  • Dragon Sai

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  Burning Scrolls - The Writings of Diadne
  • Robyn

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  Diadne sat on the tall hill in the west end of Norwick. It was in the middle of Hammer, the deepest of winter now, and the cold air bit despite the large fire she had built behind her. Even in this late hour, the town of Norwick was alive with the bustle of the refugees from the attack on the Dwarven Hold. She looked down from the hill to the many campfires below. She heard people crying. There were shouts of anger and wails of despair. “War sucks”, she thought to herself. “How anyone could build a shrine to honor Tempus?” It was hypocrisy of the greatest sort she knew. How often had she raided the homes of other, lesser races? Here, the duergar were doing the same. The lantern sat before her much as it had the last hour. She had a list of questions and contingencies in her hand. She had spent most of the evening writing them, but the thought of touching the lantern, reaching out, and actually speaking with Kossuth filled her feelings she couldn’t explain. Despite her trials she felt unworthy and insignificant. But yet, there it was. Finally, with a long deep breath she caressed the lantern with both hands and stared into the flame. “My Lord…”, she started, thought better of it, and continued, “….My Love…” “YES?” It was but a whisper, but it thundered through her in form and purity. It caught her off guard, nearly making her break contact with it. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe steadily. Her heart pounded in her chest” “I wish to be more my love. Can you teach me?” There was a short pause before another whisper. She was prepared this time as the whisper rippled through her. “YES” Diadne bit her lip, but confidence grew. Her heart still pounded though, and despite her best efforts, her voice quavered. “How? What must I do my love?” “STEP INTO THE FIRE AND I WILL SHOW YOU” The thunder of words were almost caressing. She stood up holding the lantern and turned to the fire behind her. It was large, but nothing she couldn’t endure. With care she stepped over the stones and into the flames. In the cold Hammer air, the warmth surrounded her. The flames tickled her skin, and her hair blew in the updrafts of the fire. It was comforting. The lantern she held before her grew brighter. The flames picked up in intensity. They began to grow hot even for her. The ceremonial robes she war were whisked to ash in moments, leaving her naked in the flames. Her hair whipped about furiously. Diadne’s hands holding the lantern trembled as the flame within grew even brighter. Suddenly Diadne felt pain. Her skin began to blister. Tears which came unbidden were evaporated in an instant. “M’Lord!!!”, Diadne cried and closed her eyes. The pain was almost unbearable. “OPEN YOUR EYES” Though there was a tenderness to them, the words ripped through her again. She opened her eyes and then suddenly, the pain was gone. The fire continued to roar around her but as she watched, her body drank in the flames. They rippled under her skin, and annealed to every part of her. Her blisters healed in an instant. Her vision swam. Her body trembled. A purity of being filled her with strength and power. It blinded her and for a brief moment, she felt she could do anything. Then Diadne’s world tipped sideways as her body gave out, and she collapsed unconscious to the base of the flames. -- She awoke the next morning shivering, covered in ash. The embers of the fire burned pitifully, barely enough to protect her from the cold. Diadne looked up and struggled to focus onto Ibli’s concerned face. “Mistress? What happened?” Diadne just looked at Ibli and sighed. She couldn’t explain the experience, even if she wanted to. But as she stood up she felt a power inside her that wasn’t there before. The fire within burned hotter, giving her strength to limbs and focus to her flames. Soon she hoped, the Duergar would learn to fear Kossuth Hammer 13th Yesterday we defended the Dwarven Hold against the Duegar and lost. It’s difficult to explain how that feels. As I write this, I can see Norwick from a window in Spellweaver. It’s filled with refugees and displaced people. When I arrived in Norwick after the caravan attack, the Dwarves were the first people that welcomed me with open arms. Dwin took me in, introduced me, and said a small prayer to Kossuth with me. It fills me with fury. All I want to do is incinerate every single Duergar I see. Kossuth willing they will be burned to ash until nothing remains. All of them. I had an experience with the lantern last night. I haven’t written of it, nor will I, for fear of what would happen should others find I possess it. Even though I know it will never be misused, lest Kossuth vent his wrath on those who would, there are those foolish enough to still try. Starla and Vick fell to beholders in the attack. I vented Kossuth’s wrath upon one of the beholders until it burned to death. Vick’s death hit me particularly hard, and I find that difficult to explain. I would never tell him this, but I would die for him in a heartbeat. Somehow, his life matters more to me than most. Perhaps someday I will figure it out, or Kossuth will tell me why.
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  A Proudfeet tale
  • rei_jin

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  ~Entry 13 - Fun?~ I’ve met a most interesting hin, a paladin of Yondalla. His name is Bell, Bellamin Silvershaper, and he’s perhaps the most curious person I’ve met in this land. Not because he’s fast, or strong, or tough, or smart... the realm has its fill of those people. Not because he’s slow, or weak, or sickly, or stupid... the realm has its fill of those people too. No. He’s curious to me because he genuinely sees value in hearth and home, peace and love, joy and hope, and happiness and fun. I met him in the commons a few days ago... we chatted a little, which was nice? But I ran into him again outside the gnoll woods; he was with Erurk and Rubo. They invited me to join them, which was fine by me, and so we went into the woods for a trip with Rubo’s own unique brand of hunting. He’s not the fastest. But he kept up, determined to be a part of what was happening. He’s not the strongest. But that didn’t stop him stepping in to combat with his short sword and giving it his all. He’s not the toughest, but he wanted to protect me. He’s not the smartest, but he knows the right things to say. We cleared out most of the gnolls without trouble, until we came across a gynarch who proceeded to knock Bell down with only 3 swings. He died, quickly and messily... and I did the best I could to keep my calm. Picked him up and walked out of the woods, where Rubo raised him after praying to Garl. And do you know what Bell did, when we’d brought him back? He apologised for the trouble, and got up, ready to try again. Together, we cleared the gnolls, the spiders, and the goblins before getting back to Norwick. Afterwards, we went up to Peltarch, sold everything, and got some rest... and he and I had a long talk. I took a moment to look through Rinnel’s Book, but it was no help. Rule ?? - (the hin fist rules have nothing on this) Bell said that I wasn’t just a weapon. Bell said that family and friends are important, that they should be why we fight. Bell said that it was important to rest, to have fun, to be happy. I... don’t know. I don’t know what to say or do in response to that. We went to Hero’s Bluff, ate pastries, and fished. It was... fun? I don’t know if there’s room in my life for happiness and fun, or for family. Friends, sure, to a point; but anything more? Relationships are complicated, and who would want a wife who might one day disappear and never been seen again? There was one more thing Bell told me. He said that if I kept bottling up my emotions, that I would crack. That I was working too hard, losing sight of what’s important. I think he’s wrong, that I’m doing what I need to do to fulfill my calling. But what if... What if he’s right?
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  Rising Embers - Tale of the Fireborn
  • Turmadin

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  The backroom in the Ferret is quiet, the smell of perfumed women and incense burning hangs heavily in the air as Karrick spoons some fish stew into his mouth. His eyes follow the brass wyrmling as it crawls across the table, it playfully batting a small chunk of meat around before it pounces on it, trapping it between it's two claws hands and gnawing on it happily. “Does it taste good, Bass? I think it could use a bit more salt, myself.” The little wyrmling turns it's dark amber eyes towards him, a small chirp coming from him as he turns back to gulp down the rest of the meal. “Right, guess it is good." Karrick lets out a deep chuckle. “As promised, I will recount the tales of adventures had. I wish I could bring you on them, but they are far too dangerous for you.” Bass claws at the table with his tiny claws, a low rumble coming from his throat in defiance of the danger he might face; Karrick laughs scooping another piece of the fish from the stew bowl and setting in on the table for the small dragon. “When you are older, we will fly the skies together my friend.” “So what do you wish to hear about? The Bronze Dragonflight? The inferno of the Holy Fires of Kossuth?” He peers curiously at the wyrmling as he recites the the choices, waiting for any sign of what the dragon might want to hear. Bass tilts his head back and forth as the titles are mentioned but gives no sign as to what preference he may have. “Alright, let's start from the beginning then.” “The Bronze Dragonflight, not even sure how to explain them.” “Another storm rolls over the Jewel. Boom, boom. You can hear the lightning in the distance but the group of ragtag adventurers don't worry so easily about simple storms.” “A man walks in, colorful in dress, quick with words. A deck of cards in his hands as he shuffled them with a mischievous grin on his face. Trouble? Likely. Pick a card, any card. The big half orc walks up immediately. His stink of urine and feces; green skin full of warts and puss filled boils!" Karrick stands as tall as he can, hunch-backed as he moves around the table. Grunts escape him on occasion as he mimics the hulking half-orc. “Mez druh cardz!” Karrick sticking a finger in his nose as if picking something out of it; holding the fingers out to Bass who recoils and lets out a hiss. “Mez smurt! Mez Erurk! Huhuhuhuh!” “What card did he draw? The other adventurers are curious. They peek slowly around the boil and pimple covered halfer to look. The castle card!" Karrick gasps. “The skinny priestess of the wind god flies about like a raging tornado at the sight! Castle, castle she cries out! Around and around she goes!" Karrick twirls around in circles as the little dragons head follows his movements, letting out a whimper as it staggers a bit, dizzy from watching the twirling man. “Our formidable scout enters the picture! Like, what are we doing!” Karrick twirling his hair with a finger, a dumb grin on his face. “I can scout! Yay! I have a bow! Yay!” “Now the hero enters, the charming and smooth talking half-dragon. He of course MUST be the true hero. Right? We will get back to him later though. Together the four adventurers wait and suddenly darkness takes them, then a flash of light!” "Where are they? They look around slowly and see only mold covered bricks, the sturdy wooden door with a bar filled window in it. A prison? They discuss their plans, but before they can decide the charming and handsome half-dragon rips the door from the wall, giving a small smile back to the two ladies in the group and they swoon, oh how they swoon as they view his muscular frame. The puss covered halfer stands there dumbfounded, then again his finger goes to his nose; finding the intoxicating nibblets inside and delivering it disgustingly right into his mouth. A horrible sight." Bass lets out a soft gagging sound as he curls up into a ball on the table, his eyes focused on Karrick as he tells the story. "The Guards outside are stunned, perhaps by the fact that prisoners are escaping, perhaps by the mere presence of the group. The Priestess runs forwardas fast as a gust of wind, excited to see others in their journey and trips over a stone on the floor, tumbling head long into the Guards and all six of the Guards get knocked out the window! Falling to their gruesome deaths!" Karrick holds up his arms and screams out with a fading sound as he pretends to be falling, his arms flailing about wildly as he disappears under the sight of the table. Bass crawls up and peers over the edge of the table at Karrick and lets out a little growl. "The halfer goes to the next door, sniffing at the air. His one eye bigger then the other as he peers through the bars. Uh, fudz in dere? He asks and the others make their way to peer into the cell across from them. Prisoners! Yuan-ti, kobolds, lizardmen and saurials all!" "We must like.. save them all, the scout declares as she knocks an arrow to her mighty bow and lets loose at the doors! The arrows flying ahead yet the bow flinging back and hitting her square in the face!" Karrick holding out an imaginary bow as he lets the arrow loose then acts like the bow hits him in the face and he stumbles back and hits the wall. "Like.. that hurt, the scout says, yet somehow she tripped the mechanism to open all the doors at once! The prisoners are released! Horray! The prisoners rushing out and thanking the group for being their saviors." Karricks voice then deepens, he moves back into the shadows of where the lantern fire hasn't lit up the room, his face cloaked by the darkness in the corner. Bass moves up to the edge of the table, peering at him in anticipation. "But then she appears." "Dark robed, eyes of infernal fire. Dragging behind her a dragon of pure bronze, chains grapsed tightly in the woman's hand to around the neck of the mighty creature! You shall not take my dragon! She is here to help create my army! The woman says to the band of adventurers." "Release that beautiful creature or face our wrath! The half-dragon making his way to the front of the group and demanding of the woman." "Just then it happened." Karrick says softly, letting a long pause build as Bass leans in closer, waiting and watching him. "The halfer sneezes and just then the boils on his face pop under the pressure, the green tinged goo flying out and soaking the womans arms. They begin to melt, the skin dripping away and the bone joining the melted pile of body on the floor beneath her. She lets out a scream and falls to her knees!" Karrick drops to his knees and hides his arms behind his back the best her can. "Please spare me the woman pleads up to the group. The half-dragon marching forward to her and knocking her to the ground." "We shall spare you, we are the heroes after all." Karrick gives a charming smile down to the imaginary woman as he speaks. "The dragon is grateful to be free of her bonds and showers the heroes with gifts! The saviors! This is how the Bronze Dragonflight took to the skies once more! This is the story of the great heroes Erurk, Willow, Shesarai and Karrick the mighty!" "This may or may not be the full truth." Karrick grins down to the little dragon as it lets out an excited chirp. "And now it's time for bed." He scoops the little brass up in his arms and blows out the lantern, placing the little dragon in the bed he made for him then settling into a deep sleep himself.
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  The Book Of Willow
  • Karnivor

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  At Heroes Bluff, a reedy figure sits at the very edge of the cliff, dangling long legs down. The wind gusts, billowing Willow's cloak out into angel's wings for a brief moment, whirling her sandy hair across her face. She sits there with her eyes closed, for once quite still, but for the movement created by the breeze. Later, over a roasted apple in the light of a small campfire, she writes: "Baby steps, eh Willow? It was better this time, catching a small group just heading out to explore ticks all the right boxes to start with, and I could just about feel a lil' wind at my back. We roamed the old battlefields near Jiyyd, where more powerful undead have risen, driving off the scavenging drifters. It's a great deal more dangerous now, and part of me laments my old playing ground turning too rough to skip and jump through at will, stopping whenever I pleased to dig up something curious from the ground, so littered with remains of battles past. All things change though, and we with them. The orcs were tougher too, I mean ~sheesh~. Followers of Baghtru, seasoned warriors, heavily armed and NOT very welcoming of visitors! I guess they were protecting their females, of which there were many way in the back, all significantly weaker than the fellas. Ugh, orcs. That's typical of their kind, isn't it? That whole obnoxious machismo chest-thumping, war-mongering, woman-get-thee-to-the-kitchen mindset, tch. Okay, so I really don't like orcs! I guess I have a lil' elven side of me, after all. Not that I mind Erurk, he's pretty cool despite being all pro-orc and stuff. Each to their own, yeah? We even found some treasure, bits and bobs of a pretty unusual nature which I suspect the orcs might've come across in raiding. There were some neat things, but none I felt the urge to possess but for my first pick - an orb crackling with lightning trapped inside it! I swear, there were dark clouds swirling about too, as though a thunderstorm had been condensed into that small sphere. It's a one off, obviously - once released, the storm will BOOM and CRACK then pass. But that's as should be. I'm not sure about possessions, anyway. I seem to be collecting way too much of it, boots and cloaks and even multiple sets of armour, 'cause I can't seem to get rid of the one Beorn made me. I even considered enchanting it with that green gem's aid, but it wouldn't be nearly as light as the one I'm already wearing, even so. And should I really let sentiment weigh me down? The stories of each object is why I keep most of them. But even if I rid myself of the physicality of them, the memories would still remain. So why can't I just shed the weight? I dunno. If I could MASH all my boots into one single set, my armours or my cloaks, that'd be a fine thing - but that's not quite how enchantment works. You can't just chuck it all into a pot, simmer and dissolve it and form a whole new from the old. When it comes right down to it, the things I 'really' want, the things I like to dream of in a one-of-these-day daydreamy way, they're pretty far-fetched, wild ideas that involve elaborate quests to far off places or planes! I'm not very good at being practical and pragmatic, when it comes to myself anyway. With my patients, if I'm treating someone, sure. No-nonsense Willow central, that! But when it comes to the things I'll do just for me, practicality bores me. I 'should' just make something useful and sensible of this gift, shouldn't I? But everytime I look at the gem, I'm stumped. Perhaps part of me feels I didn't deserve it, considering it all. Perhaps part of me feels that because it came from you, it should be something 'perfect' and fitting and it leaves me stumped. Because perhaps, just perhaps, I no longer know what that is. I'll figure it out though. Don't give up on me, Shaundakul! I'm still trying."
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  The search for understanding
  • Gonnar

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  She mutters to herself, sipping afterwards from a cup of tea. A lot of books laying on the floor, bed and desk, but only one remains open, on her lap, at a certain page with a roughly drawn dragon "So this is the one that could hold all of the answewrs" She takes another sip I wondewr... I wondewr if they'll be open to meet. She ponders for a second Owr if they'll still be alive, owr in a nowrmal state and condition. She then closes the book, having memorized everything she needed to and willing to take on with the next step of her search
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  The Long Walk, a Black Lion's Tale.
  • JerrickRafe

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  On Dwarves Another day, another delve into someplace I probably should not be. It started innocently enough. Kethro, seeming hell bent on going adventuring, was quick to jump upon my arrival into the commons as a sure sign that I would join everyone on an adventure ... somewhere. The plan didn't seem concrete, so my enthusiasm was perhaps a bit lacking, so I kept everyone waiting a minute while I organized my supplies and listened in to see exactly what I might be getting myself into THIS time. After a while, it seemed like he truly just wanted to be out, looking for threats, and exploring, widening his knowledge of the area, so ... seeing nothing wrong with that, I signed up, and off we went. I'll have to remember her name, but a Sharran priestess was with us, and was polite enough to ask if anybody was unwilling to have the blessings of her Dark Goddess, which was ... remarkably polite for a follower of the likes of Shar. Credit where credit is due, I suppose. A lady I've not met before, Syltria, was there too, and it's her I have to thank for most of the blessings I had in the fights to come. I'll keep an eye out for her in future trips, as she has a good head on her, and seems to be a thoughtful, careful type. Can't have too many of those. Also of note was Bronn, who joined me at the front to great effect. Kethro was up front a lot too, in a half-scout, half-stab-a-lot sort of role, but he ended up getting beat up a bit much several times. I think he could benefit on letting others get the enemy's attention thoroughly before jumping in, in the future. Speaking of Kethro, he was leading, which I also said out loud several times, but he asked my opinion a few times, and then basically deferred to me leading for most of the trip, partially because I knew the areas we were in (At first), and partially because ... I don't know why. Because it always happens? I hope that nobody thinks I 'take over' uninvited. It literally just seems to -happen-. Anyway, I'm rambling. Onto the details I want to remember! We went to the Windy Plains, where the first unusual thing we encountered was ... me? But not me. Someone asked me if I had a doppelganger, to which I said not to my knowledge, and they pointed up. Sure enough, in armor and coloring JUST like mine, was a large feminine figure atop a ridge, who mimicked my words and then responded to us, before flying away without further incident. Like, leaped into the air and poof, gone. We kept an eye out for her later, but saw no other sign, so onward we went, into the ruined tower on the hill that led to the Undercaves beneath Jiyyd. I warned everyone that demon stragglers would still be there, and sure enough, plenty of them came swooping in. They were quickly and easily dispatched, Kethro and Bronn usually taking one of two out before I even got to engage, which was ... refreshing. Things went on like that, nice and normal, even past that silly magic door, til we found something new. A Bebilith. Bronn and I saw it, he passed me a potion wordlessly, which I drank gratefully, and we charged in and started chopping! It took special interest in me, but that's how I like it. I didn't even put my guard up especially well, instead I focused on making the most of that potion that Bronn gave me, starting the fight with a ROAR worthy of the Lion, and I felt his power come as it always does, filling me with strength, and courage, and power! The claws raked across my armor, glanced off my helm, clanged against my sword, and battered at me as if they could start picking me apart, so many legs flickering in and out of sight that it was hard to keep track of ... so I didn't. I focused on that mandibled face, the crushing jaws, hairy and horrifying, and the too many sets of eyes, all fixed on me. Yeah, this is one snack that isn't going to go down easy, buddy. The smell of singed demon hairs from it's fuzzy, spikey, carapace wafted about the cavern, joined by the acrid stench of its blood as the fight swiftly went south for it, and with a screech, its legs buckled, Bronn and I giving it a final wet and crunchy smack as it stood no more, leaking it's nastiness across the cave floor. There was once more no sign of magic detected by Syltria or others, so I'm chalking up as just another straggler, which to me, is great news. Their numbers are finite, and if I have to fight them every day, I will, if it means that they'll soon not be able to put up a fight with their lessened numbers, and be gone from this land all the sooner. We pressed on, then, up the well and back to the surface, moving to what I was told was an abandoned Dwarf temple, and headed in. It was a depressing scene, the temple ruined, old skeletons of dwarves out front, and delving deep showed why. Corrupted dwarves, in the far back reaches, maddened and senseless were inside, much to the disappointment of Bronn. We captured one, in hopes of learning more about this duergar thing, but as they were NOT duergar, I turned it loose as we left. It was unresponsive before I knocked it out, anyway. They may be totally mad ... The trip was successful, and we had no casualties ... hardly any injuries for that matter. Starla didn't even use all of her fireballs, as she kept a running tally for us the whole time, heh. She sure loves them. Perhaps next time I'll lead a trip, on purpose ... I just can't shake the memory of the last one I led, to the Keep of the Fallen, that almost went SO horribly... We'll see. By the Lion, I won't quit just because of that, but I DO need to keep people safe, and myself alive. I still expect the Creel to arrive any day now, and knowing our luck, it'll be at the same time as the Duergar show up in force. Time will tell.
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  Chaos of enchantment - Longbow of Possessed Shadows
  • Scout-Hen

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  Description of the Enchanting basin created by Jonni Name: Greater Basin of Enchantment? (I'm struggling with how to name it) Description: This enchanting basin on first glance seems quite exquisite from top to its very bottom it stands a five feet, sixty-four inches, tall with a marble base. The Six foot eight inch long bowl, Eighty Inches, tapers down to a nice even base in which one can easily place large or small goods within. The entire basin seems finely crafted made of platinum from top to bottom, every edge is smooth and round giving way to no imperfections. Within the inner bowl of the basin one can clearly see the light hue of the mithril, it's entire surface appearing to be covered to give the basin and even stronger capability for magical enchantment. The base of the enchanting basin is a marvelously etched and decorated marble block making up three feet, thirty-six inches, of the basins total height. Around the block of marble are intricate carving and inlays of many gods of arcane magic, the four largest depicted each reside in the middle of one side eah: Savras, Corellon, Mystra, and insert logical one i cant name here. Etchings and Lore: Savras - For DrD Corellon: Lore: Creator of all elves, Corellon is the leader of the elven Pantheon and the elven god of Magic. Etching: Corellons' holy symbol is masterfully carved into the marble, the full crescent moon carved with a delicate hand. Inlay-ed within are small topaz gems representing the six gems within his holy symbol while a gold etching is used to accentuate the inner design of the crescent moon. Mystra: Lore: Mother of All Magic, Mystra is the tender of the weave making possible all the miracles and mysteries wrought by magic and users of magic. Etching: Mystras' holy symbol is elegantly worked into the marble, the seven shineing stars are brought to life with silver inlays making them sparkle in the dimmest light. The rising red mist shimmering lightly as the etchings appear to be coated with a light touch of ruby dust giving the holy symbol its light coloration. (( Insert DrD (Jonni's extra addings))
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  "Finding a Balance of sorts" - A journal of Leena
  • JerrickRafe

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  A new dawn The wind is blowing, the sun is shining, I'm covered in blood as usual, but a bath isn't far off, and that deer was delicious. The grass is soft, and the animals are going about their business as usual, save for this deer, which Fayt is still enjoying beside me. Overall ... things are GOOD. I have to remind myself to slow down and enjoy moments like this, and yesterday was a good reminder to do exactly that. I did the usual creeping about a group in Peltarch, standing close enough to see if folks were being interesting, and sure enough, an elf named Tirreth was soon approached by an emissary to some rich Peltarchian about an artifact. We went out some time after, at the insistence of the gnome who never sits still, Rubo. We were ostensibly Duergar hunting, and since they've been seen WITH Yuan-Ti, we checked out the Spider Caves in Jiyyd's vicinity, since some folks had never been there, and if there WAS a connection to be had there, we'd learn something. Not knowing Tirreth yet, and having "I love to fight surrounded" Margot with us, I secretly hoped that we did NOT find Duergar, (Which we did not) but the fight against the spiders, all the way to their Queen was good to get my blood going and be worth it, all the way into the Yuan-Ti temple, where we fought a couple before turning back, just to be safe. Mostly because Rubo left and I didn't know this group well enough to risk death-magic slinging Yuan-Ti for fun. We made it back without issue, victorious. I didn't find out anything important about Tirreth's visitor either, but I did hear that said elf, "Tirreth" apparently, represents Spellweaver. Which is back, if I didn't write about that earlier, but I haven't heard much from them other than about that mages fair they were going to hold, with a focus on filling spellcrystals for folks. Which frankly, is a great idea. People end up carrying empty ones for months! Not that I'm one of those people. Totally not. Nope. I -always- remember them ... from now on, anyway. It's been a fair bit since I saw my apprentices, but I've also been traveling. With the demons gone, and the Creel threat not yet arrived, the vampires staying in their holes, and not seeing any of these ever-present Duergar for myself, I've found myself with an abundance of free time, which I really SHOULD be doing something with. I'm sure my apprentices have been keeping themselves busy, so it's probably time that I put them to a test or ten. Perhaps first ... I'll see how they fare with their Animal Empathy skills. I can do this one of a million ways, but I think I'll divide it up into tests like this: 1.) Find a rare creature, not a deer or badger or hawk, and bring it to me, here. (The "here" will be somewhere slightly more difficult to reach, and will involve keeping said critter alive to get to me.) 2.) Find me a dire animal. Much like above, but with the added difficulty of possibly having to go to Mintas. I might have to specify "Not a rat." Maybe I'll leave that option to see if they make that choice, and ask them "why." I DO encourage Druids cheating, after all... 3.) Combat taming. It's one thing to gently approach an animal, or show up from stealth and immediately say the words, use the calming gestures, or simply lock eyes and make it back down ... and another to face down an animal already actively charging forward to eat your face. I'll get my own dire animal, get them between it and myself, turn it loose, and make them pacify it before either of us get eaten. I'm sure I'll be able to think about some more tests, but I don't want them staying apprentices forever, so if we want to grow the Circle back to respectable numbers ... it's testing time. Counselors will once again fill out ranks, and hopefully attract apprentices of their own. Part of attracting new folks will be getting ourselves more in the open, so perhaps I need to reach out to Spellweaver again as I did so long ago, make it known that I'm a resource and partaker of knowledge myself, and perhaps renew my contact with Norwick and Peltarch, The Legion, and other groups in the land so that if anything that concerns Druids or Nature pops up, I'm contacted. At this point, I can either get more active and grow my Circle, or retire like Fadia, showing up occasionally to dispense Wisdom, or climb a murdermountain to help save my old apprentice before disappearing for months again! Ha! I guess she's earned her time off, having been an Arch Druidess, and building our grove herself, after all. Alright, time to go back to the Circle, talk to some Elders, and see if anybody else has some ideas!
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  Meditations on Pain - Keira's perception
  • sciolist

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  “The world is not to be put in order. The world is order. It is for us to put ourselves in unison with this order.” Keira spins and turns, punching the pads another student holds. A foot scuffs on the monastery floor and she shifts to kick them, too. The bell rings to signal the end of the bout and she lifts the blindfold. It was good to be home. Good to feel part of something again. Her head felt clearer than it had for years. With clarity, and purpose - anything was possible. She felt free. Free to be a Scout, to serve the City how it needed her. Time changes and family changes but, as long as you can be true to yourself and find the balance of law in your heart. Freedom is just choosing whose chains to wear.
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  Looking at the world sideways: Vick Blake
  • Darkspyr

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  Magik’s Layers of Insanity: After years of dealing with magik users of all sorts I have started to document and reference their individual outward selves and tried to quantify the toll that magik seems to have on ones mind and soul. Evil or good do not seem to have any affect over these studies as do the dieties of those involved. It always seems to boil down to time and power in the end. I think of it as an Onion in reverse. The core of a being and year after year, power level after power level, layers are added on subsuming the core sanity so that in the end but a spark might be found, smothered under the layers of power. Spell Level Reached 9 6 6 7 7 8 8 9 10 8 5 6 6 7 7 8 8 9 7 5 5 6 6 7 7 8 8 6 4 5 5 6 6 7 7 8 5 4 4 5 5 6 6 7 7 4 3 3 4 4 5 5 6 6 3 2 3 3 4 4 5 5 6 2 2 2 3 3 4 4 5 6 1 1 2 2 3 3 4 5 6 0 1 1 2 2 3 3 4 6 20 30 40 50 100 150 200 500 Age Racial: +3 Gnomes - One of the most creative yet unstable of races, magik seems to bear heavily on their level of sanity at any given time. +1 Elves - Due to their extremely long lives, they get a bonus beyond the norm +0 or +2 Dwarves - This varies depending on how much drinking they have been doing. To little and to much drinking pushes them into the +2 range. Just the right amount of drinking leaves them more stable. Gender: +2 Female - due to excessive emotions and the cycles of the female body over the course of time, both short and long, this modifier has been added for all classes. +1 Uncertain - Well if you are uncertain about this then you are a step up on being insane. Profession (current main filed of work): +2 Politician/Lawyer - Due to the innate character weakness found in these individuals, proven over long observation, they get an automatic adjustment to their numbers. +1 Bard - Be honest, these people were not too stable to begin with. +1 Scout - Enough said, swimming in muck all alone to bring ungrateful people information for little or no pay. They apparently had a screw loose to begin with. +1 Druid/Cleric - They gave up their own purpose for that of another greater one. Now they are trying to justify all they do within the context of a higher authority. +3 Paladin - See Druid/Cleric and multiply by 3 +2 Sorcerer - Power without discipline, something went really wrong here. +1 Wizard - Once hooked on spells they seek more and more knowledge for greater and greater power. Often jealous of a sorcerers ease of power but determined to outdo them in breadth of power. -1 Ranger - Somehow these people got shorted on the magik end and spend their time communing with animals to justify their existence. Sad but mostly sane. Miscellaneous: +1 Companions - This was added in the late stages as it has been seen that whom one spends much time with is a good reflection on your inner self. Please add this if the main 3 people they currently hang out with have a +7 or higher on the scale. The graph is based on Time and the intrinsic power level of the magik user being identified. To restate, at any moment this may vary quite a bit but over a long period of time the reality of the chart is most accurate.
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  Journal of a vigil elf
  • destinysdesire1

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  Fifty years....fifty years I have been missing, yet I have not aged a day, I cannot remember any of the last fifty years. Only sitting on the bluff by Jiyyd, a fey approaching me and asking for a private conversation in the hidden grove, I agreed having spoken to the fey many times in the past, then recently woke up in Norwick. Where was I the last fifty years? Why do I not remember anything of them? I managed to track down the new Commander of the Guards, Hannibal, he has welcomed me back into the Norwick Militias scout division, I told him honestly I wasn't gonna challenge him for Command, he earned it and I wasn't here, so I have no right to challenge it. Then I met with Theaon of the Troff Legion, hoping to find the same warm welcome home, sadly I was not, I was given a choice to make that should never be asked of anyone. Either retire from the Norwick Militia, or be retired from the Legion. How can he even ask me to consider that, Norwick is my home, they took me in, loved me, protected me since my mothers brutal murder. I could not abandon my home, my family and my men. Even Hen thinks he is wrong. What can I do though, other then have my heart ripped apart? I couldn't even stop myself from crying when Hen appeared behind me and hugged me, I wound up just turning into her and crying, when she asked what was wrong and I told her, she couldn't even believe Theaon would do such a thing, but he did and admitted to it. So now I am working to find Elessar, and work my way through the Militia once more.
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  A Sapling Branches Out - Journal of Cia Briarfang
  • Kallethen

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  I should write more, but for a while there I just felt too burnt out to. That whole ogre army battle really weighed heavy on my mind for a while. And to follow up with more tragedy, I had traveled with some adventurers into the lizardman caves. Most of the trip went well, until we ran into this large and very powerful lizard warrior. He tore through us with such ferocity and strength that we can only count ourselves lucky to have escaped at all, though not without casualty. Within seconds half our group was killed or bleeding out on the cavern floor, including myself. It left me feeling even more out of sorts. So after talking with Cecil about the ogre battle, I followed some of his suggestion on how to deal with it. Spent many days in the woods, re-centering myself. Enjoying the little things. Enjoy life, as he says. I do feel better, I’ll admit. Better enough that when Cecil announced he planned a pilgrimage to that lost shrine of Shaundakul to find the the missing piece of the lance, I immediately offered to help. By Silvanus, what a crazy trip! We headed west from the city into the Giantspire Mountains. This of course meant we needed to fight through giants, and then ogres. And more ogres. And more ogres. Followed by bears and more ogres. Wolves too. And these little aquatic birds called penguins? I think we saw trolls as well. The were also other adventuring parties trying to get to these ruins apparently. Many of them immediately attacked. I guess they were the greedy type who wanted only to loot the shrine and saw us as competition. Jerks. Dead jerks, I might add. We did make it to the shrine, and met this old man. Said old man turns out to have been an avatar of Shaundakul himself. I have to pause on that again. While he wasn’t Silvanus, I have met a god. I met a god. Shaundakul tasked Cecil with using the lance to find and return a lost soul. We did so, though again we faced much danger. Another group who at least attempted to parlay, and then lots of powerful undead. We finally did react this place where Cecil was able to use the lance like it was a key, and it opened a gateway into… well… I guess the best way to describe it would be the place in between planes. There we found the lost soul, who was in the presence of a she-devil. The fiendish woman was trying to tempt him to follow her. We talked with him and tried to convince him to leave her, which I think he would have done on his own. A few members of our party instead got fed up with the fiend and killed her though. I respect their conviction on doing so. She probably would have fought us to get that soul anyways. But killing her drew the attention of a great devil. He was bigger than the giants, more vicious looking than that lizardman warrior, and wielded more magic than any priest or mage I know of. We did our best to fight the great devil off, but we barely hurt him. In the end, we had to flee back through the gateway and close it. Shaundakul has his lost soul back. Cecil has found out more about the lance he carries. And Shaundakul has seen fit to bestow on all of us who helped a gift of wealth and a wondrous little thing. It’s full of magic, and looks to be something I could use to enchant with, providing a means to do the enchantment without it being so taxing to myself. What to use it for? A better sword, perhaps? Or maybe a better armor? I’ve got some thinking to do.