Garviel, Travelling Healer
-
_The attacks on the southern gates have worsened, as more of the dracolich’s forces have come to bear. Skeletal dragons, some manner of dragon spawn, demon folk who swoop in from the rear, ambushing those who thought themselves safe and hordes among hordes of undead. Among the defenders I’ve come to know were the Lady Val, alongside Alexi, Maria and Taniko.
Even armed with his Blade of the Heavens, Taniko seemed to have some manner of trouble with the skeletons. I handed him the staff I had found during the foiling of the Cyricist plot. A simple staff with a minor enchantment to allow easier deflection of blows. In turn, he handed me a pair of rusted scimitars he had retrieved from the skeleton warriors he had fought prior. Rusted beyond proper use, with the faint corruption of the dracolich’s influence, I thoroughly doubt it wise to wield them in battle.
Daveth and I had returned from our usual trip out in the woods, and decided that we’d share a drink and relax at the inn. Walking up the hill and past the burning fires, I noticed a small movement in the corner of my eye as we passed by the crafter’s hall. Daveth seemed to spot it as well, though it quickly ran off towards the east. Thinking nothing of it, we continued towards the inn.
At the doors off the inn, I noticed movement once again, as it came closer; it appeared to be a child’s toy, a doll. Curiosity getting the better of the two of us, we chased after it, flanking it just behind the Dwarvern Hold’s store. Seemingly caught, it stood still within the tall grass, for all purposes looking nothing more than a mundane toy
Recalling the incidents in where dolls have exploded and taken the lives of folk, we took caution in nearing it. Daveth picked it up, giving it a once over, noting how it looked rather creepy and doubted it could hold any amount of an explosive charge on it’s miniscule body. Suddenly, the doll came to life once more, escaping and rushing off past the crafter’s hall.
The two of us gave chase after it once again, seemingly having nothing else better to do for the day. Racing up the eastern hill, I believe I saw it sneaking into the Phoenix’s guild house. Following it in, we gave the common room a brief search, under the tables and chairs, and found nothing. Having lost the trail of our quarry, we fell back on our original plan on having drinks.
Daveth turned in for the night, leaving me to nurse my drink along with my thoughts. Promptly thinking the better of it, I thought to follow Daveth’s example and made my way past the table and chairs towards the stairs. As I passed the innkeeper’s desk, I nearly walked into a new arrival. At first glance, it was obvious there was something about the fellow, though coupled with the alcohol and my blissful ignorance; I thought nothing of it as I exchanged greetings with the man.
It came to light that he was in fact looking for the doll I had previously encountered, and that it belonged to a friend of his. As we continued to talk, Rold seemed mightily perturbed at the man’s presence, in fact, complete and utter fear was in his eyes and face. Thinking it best to have the man go on his way, I told him what I knew of the doll and that it was last seen over at the Phoenix’s. At that, he thanked me and strode out the door.
This was when I would learn of the man’s name and the history to go with it, being that of Fendon. Descriptions would have him battling the Phoenix and other heroes, being the suspected leader of the powers under the well, as well as being powerful enough not to remain dead when struck down. The innkeeper thought it would be a good idea to alert the Norwick Herald D’Cameron as to the recent turn of events, and I agreed to the simple request.
The Herald seemed to share the same sentiment of Fendon’s arrival in town, confirming the tales described by the innkeeper. Though she seemed wary of what I told her as it was rather far fetched. Fendon having arrived in town, in search of a doll and that he hadn’t killed anyone yet. It was decided that she would warn the Phoenix and in turn, I was told to alert Timmot of the guard and that I would keep silent on the matter.
I did manage to find Timmot by the southern slope, the poor fellow having been turned to stone. D’Cameron managed to cure his condition, and he promptly left towards the south to check whether Fendon had left just yet. Upon talking to Soliel who was past the gates, it would have seemed otherwise.
Meeting up with Daveth, I convinced him to take up the hunt for the doll once more. Picking up where we left off, we searched the guild house again. This time, finding a note tucked away within the bookshelf. From what was written, someone was being held captive somewhere beginning with “C”, and that Dwin should be warned. Having no idea whether this was linked to the doll, we handed the note over to D’Cameron, who suggested we have a look at the catacombs below Peltarch.
Thinking it best to find others to bolster our numbers, Daveth and I made back for the southern gates, where people would usually be gathered.
And gathered they were, Arlan and Rasuil standing at the ruined gates, confronting one of the demon ladies. She offered us the chance to fight for their cause, to join the winning side. As much as I had my doubts on the matter, I simply asked if there was a neutral option. She replied it would be as simple as moving north towards Peltarch.
She left then, but not without first sending undead forces to attack. With only the four of us defending the gates, we retreated back towards the town, suffering from heavy injuries. We warned the guards, and prepared for the worst, though it never came.
Apparently, Taniko had arrived from the south and had defeated the remaining undead along side one other.
With the attack over and done with, Daveth and I got back to our earlier plan. Recruiting Taniko and the elf Lea to help with our endeavour. On reaching Peltarch, Einrihch soon joined our number as well. Having no clue where to begin, we made for the sewer, down being the correct direction and all.
We came across minor undead doing battle with oozes and jellies. And we’d learn to loathe the oozes, as they were close to impossible to kill with weapons alone. Taniko and Einrihch taking the longest time to wear a single one of them down.
Past a gathering of cultists, we did manage to find a tunnel leading deeper into the earth and into the catacombs. It looked to be some manner of barrow, the stench of death heavy in the dry and stale air. With no real idea as to where we should start the search, we made do by pressing on towards a general direction of forward.
We managed to fight our way into an empty crypt, where we came to the conclusion that we’d best regroup and attempt this at another time, as we had barely made it through with our lives as it was. The trip back up was uneventful, other than another fight with oozes and slimes.
Whoever this person being held captive is, I hope he or she can last awhile longer.
Over in Peltarch’s inn, it would seem a healthy crowd was building up. Among them I recognized Vash, Korlis as well as Cara. I would soon be introduced towards two more of the folk, a drunkard by the name of Marcus and the halfling Merial.
It didn’t take too long for trouble to find us, as the Guard Lisa came in offering a task and payment for willing folk. A caravan had been overdue in its arrival, and the lot of us were sent off after it. It was close to half a week’s worth of travelling, so we were advised to leave prepared. With Vash taking lead of the group and with map in hand, we left as soon as we were all ready
Barely being able to stand the cold weather, I sat huddled by the fires for the most part, even when a raiding party of hobgoblins came barrelling through the forest towards us. Upon defeating them, Merial scouted the trail in which they came, leading us towards the ruins of the caravan we were meant to find.
Remnants of the raiding party were still there, we took caution in leaving one to be interrogated, though he remained tight-lipped as to the location of their hold. Tied up to a tree, Vash had his bear eat the poor fellow alive, much to the dismay of a number of us. By the time I stopped hesitating and walked up to deliver a mercy kill, the hobgoblin had long since expired.
Upon further inspection of the wreckage, dead bodies laid strewn about, from the looks of them, they were the guards of the caravan. The merchants and most of the goods were missing, most probably taken into wherever the hobgoblins’ main forces were hold up in.
As we discussed our next course of action, we were beset upon by a pack of winter wolves. Vash did his best to talk them into submission with his druidic tongue, while I concentrated on calming a single one. And in that I was successful, the rest having been killed off by the party. With the fight over and done with, Marcus strode up attempting to fire a bolt into the wolf’s head. Fortunately, in his drunken stupor, he could hardly aim straight, letting the wolf go sprinting back into the woods.
Merial scouted ahead, revealing that the hobgoblins were holding some manner of ritual at a giant tree. Their shaman was ordering their kind to walk into a stone circle about the tree, which caused them to die. Thinking no good would come of it, Vash led the charge into their ranks, shredding most of them in his bear form. Marcus stumbled into the circle and seemed to hurt himself in the process.
Being a druid, Vash spoke to the tree, revealing that the hobgoblins were corrupting the roots of the great tree, which would in turn; cause the complete desolation of the entire forest. Vash seemed to dig into the ground, taking a piece of the great tree’s root with him.
With Merial’s skills at tracking and scouting, it didn’t take long for us to find their hold, situated within a cave against the northern hill. The trek through the cave itself was full of danger, with traps placed throughout as well as well-placed ambushes by the defenders. Though with Cara’s martial skills and Korlis’s magic we made steady progress into the back chambers of the tunnels.
On arriving, we could see the surviving merchants trapped within cages, and the hobgoblin’s chieftain sitting triumphantly on his throne just within view. It was a tough battle, with the chieftain running after me, if I ever neared Vash with a readied healing spell. Cara was cut down during the battle, though I wasn’t quite sure how, being caught up in the thick of the battle. The drunkard rushed forward to pour some manner of concoction down her throat, which received a stern lecture from Vash, who took it upon himself to see to Cara’s fallen form. Apparently through the use of the root and a manner of prayer, he brought her back, if just barely.
The merchants were freed, the altar causing the taint destroyed, and we made the long journey back towards Peltarch.
As we all went our separate ways, Vash handed me a part of the root he had, thinking it best if I could put it to use. I dare hope I do not disappoint._
-
_Hammerhand deems me a coward. I wouldn’t blame him, given his following and faith.
I had shared with him my plans to leave the lands along with the evacuees and was promptly browbeaten.
I told him that we were hardly prepared for such an attack. There is far more we could do, but as to what, I am unsure. I am not familiar with the politics of the neighboring settlements or factions, and whether they would be willing to offer aid in such. But all the same, shouldn’t we at the least, attempt to gather as many as we can against the dracolich?
As he was quick to put, there is no “we” in this and that they were as prepared as they would ever be.
I’ve finally had my run in with the shadows, during my usual stints by the southern gates. With the descending darkness they came, draining the life out of whoever they touched. I did my best to avoid them, keeping a distance from where the fighting was being done. As the defenders fought for their lives, warnings sounded into the night sky. The town itself was under attack.
Thinking the heroes had it well in hand, Daveth and I decided to make for Peltarch instead. To scout out the swamps in which dead bodies were reportedly laying strewn about. The boat ride up was uneventful as was the trip itself, though I did get to meet Daveth’s titled second student, Grace.
On our return to Norwick, the heroes were already back and splitting the spoils of their venture. Of note, I overhead the group mention that Soliel had fallen during the trip. Though they did mention they would raise her at the temple, relieving any thought of worry in my mind.
I managed to laugh it off with Daveth. if somewhat morbidly in comparing her to Daveth’s first student, Rhiain.
The boat was taking in far too much water than they had anticipated, even with First Mate Daveth diligently shoveling it out with his helmet. Coupled with the storms overhead it was no surprise that self appointed Captain Rhiain would order the abandonment of the ship. Though it was also partly due to the timely lightning bolt that took the life of the beloved parrot.
Diving over the side and into shark infested waters, they could only stare in horror as the ship sunk along with it’s cargo of magical goods. Thankfully, the Captain was quick to point out another ship a distance away. They made a swim towards it, quickly clambered aboard to find it unmanned, much to their delight.
At that moment, a kraken burst forth from below the waves. A kraken that very much resembled an undead brown bear, but a kraken none the less. Quick on his feet, Daveth ordered Powder Monkey Garviel to fire the cannons, in which he did. Even with the aim being slight off, it dealt a mortal blow to the creature.
Having enough imaginary adventures for the day, the three made their way towards the inn to share a drink and toast to future endeavors.
Attacked by shadows once again. I have Elidor, Rasuil and Grorg to thank for my life, as without the spells prepared, there was little I could do against them.
I had thought the heroes had seen to the end of such. Perhaps these were merely remnants of whatever force they had vanquished.
Aye, I’d like to think that for now._
-
_I’ve been spending the days by the fires, sharing the company of Daveth and Rhiain. We talk about nothing all that important, smiling and laughing. Almost blissfully ignorant of the dealings out south, and the assault on the Draco-lich that is to come.
The ravens have taken a liking to Rhiain, both of who share a fondness of shiny things, I would imagine. Her persistence in befriending them was rewarded, a ring of sorts, which would prove useful in her locksmithing career.
On the other hand, Daveth and I helped a little girl, who had problems with a recently purchased bucket.
I’ve heard of wyverns living out in the Rawlins, but this would be the first I’ve seen with my own eyes. From the looks of it, it was old for one of its kind, with not many years left. It stood before the ruined southern gates, a number of folk busy discussing what they would do. Among their number was a Banite, Emiko and another one of her eastern friends.
I stood up on the ridge, observing for the most part. From the looks and rumblings from the wyvern’s stomach, it was hungry. It made no move to attack the three, instead barreling past them to get at the cooking pot, knocking it over in its haste. At this, the Banite seemed to grow impatient, beginning to cast a number of spells on himself, most probably in preparation to slay the beast.
Having no want for bloodshed, I thought it best to lead the beast away from the gates. The plan worked to an extent, using what food I had on me to make a trail off into the woods. I hadn’t honestly thought it through as by the time I had run out, it was standing in front of me, still hungry for more. The Banite chose the moment to strike at the beast with sword and spell. Once again, I found myself helping the wrong side, making sure the beast was well enough to make it’s escape by air.
And most naturally, getting told off by the Banite for my naivety.
Though he did not have long to do so before an assault came from the draco-lich’s forces. His minions, a pair of demon like women summoning all manner of undead and creatures to strike at us. Taniko joined the defenses then, pushing them back towards the southern woods.
I healed who I could, and against my better judgment thought to leave them to the fighting while I went hunting to replenish my travelling rations. As I turned around a gathering of trees, who else would I bump into then one of the demonic ladies. I sought to seek safe passage through, as I had no want for battle. She merely laughed and sent a flying creature at me.
I fended it off, batting at it with my arms as I retreated back towards the gates, where the adventurers dealt with it. I thought it best to wait till daylight before attempting another trip out.
A group was gathering to make a trip down into the crypts, led by the lady Val. Alongside her was Horlamin, Taniko and Dietrick. I fine group if any to join in such an attempt. Though before the appointed time in which we would leave, the undead thought it better to save us the walking, and come to us instead. A thick fog fell over the woods, as hordes of zombie rats swarmed towards the gates. Two more familiar faces came to the wall’s defenses, Bran and Andrea, charging head long into the fray as always.
An unnatural darkness followed, where the shadows became the next danger. Daveth handed me a torch, so that we could see, but it hardly managed to do much good. Instead, I would rely on his keen eyesight to callout who and where a person was in need of care.
Dietrick thought it best to investigate the source of the undead, rushing off towards the graveyard, leaving the group with no choice but to follow.
Observing how Andrea was getting herself hurt again, I off-handishly commented on the results of Bran’s lessons. The results of which was no surprise. Bran with all his usual anger and rage, grabbed at my blade, using it to sock me in the head, and tossing it into the woods. It would be the first time it’s drawn blood, though on no part of my own.
As we continued to fight through the darkness and shadows, I made a bet with Daveth as to who would be the first and second to fall. And how right I was when members of the group abruptly turned on one another. Apparently, the demon ladies had made their appearance once more, sowing chaos within our ranks. I made myself scarce as Daveth came under the spell’s influence, charging past me to stab Bran in the back. In hindsight, I should not have taken too much pleasure in that, given the situation.
After we’ve managed to regroup, words were exchanged, though I did not catch most of it, as I was behind cover, in the case that the demons had thought it prudent to rain spells once more. I watched as the pair of demons dropped a darkness spell on the group and flew off.
And that was the end of that, as we left back towards town, nursing what wounds we still had.
The fighting was hardly over, as specters were waiting for us on our return. Undead spirits which Daveth had described as being the cause of Rhiain’s recent death. One made a beeline for Andrea, draining the life out of her with a single touch. I suppose it was a matter of luck that I was near enough to save her life, though I doubt anyone would recall it as such.
We were soon joined by Hammerhand who had arrived in time to put an end to the specters alongside the other folk. With the danger dealt with, I made for the inn to rest and recuperate, my spells all but expended during the course of the trip.
On my return to the southern walls, it would seem that the danger was again, not over. Two warriors from the draco-lich’s army stood stoically out south, calling out for a champion to step forward for a duel. And if our side won, we would be given a month’s time to evacuate Norwick.
There was much discussion as to who would be the one to fight, and whether there was a point to it all. The two warriors stood waiting, with their undead like patience. In the end, it would be Taniko who stepped forward.
It was hardly a fight, the warrior toying with Taniko for the longest time. When struck down, the undead warrior commented on how there were no longer warriors able enough to face them, on how the time of heroes have long since passed during their slumber. Our group said nothing as they left, leaving Taniko with his lost honor and only course of action. I thought to talk him out of it, but Val and Hammer thought it best to let him go through with his ritualistic suicide.
I know not the fate of the warrior from the east, having left in frustration and anger.
How are we to stand a chance against enemies like those?
As the undead warrior had questioned, where are the heroes now?_
-
_Soliel has calmed enough that we managed to speak in length and overcome our differences. Her heart still belongs to Araendel, and I've come to terms with that even if she hasn't.
I had said once that she was meant for a greater path, and I was not at all incorrect at that. During her travels through the planes to save Benji, she has acquired a rather interesting blade with a fascinating history. One that would surely mark her place in the purification of the disease plaguing the Rawlins. Furthermore, she has spoken with Jerrick on the matter of joining the Circle. There is little I can do but watch, and eventually take my leave.
As I told her, travelling is in my blood, and it would only be a matter of time before I pack up and leave for my next port. Wherever that is, I continue to hope that I may be able to help those in need of my skills.
The four of us were just outside the gates when we spotted the lady. Soliel was first to bolt to her feet and follow after her, Elidor close at her heels. Dietrick who was taking a nap at the time was soon to rush off after them, after I explained the situation. A women skulking about in Cyric's colors was never a good sign.
A bloody gurgle followed by a loud thud was all I heard as I rounded the corner of the trees, as Elidor had promptly silenced a spellcaster with an arrow or two. The skulking woman was quick to retreat through a portal, even with several arrows in her. There was a moment of debate as to what we should have done, and we walked through the portal, knowing full well of the possible dangers ahead.
Senseless slaughter is how I would describe it. The three of them cutting down waves of unarmed men as they had hoped to rush us in surprise. Their ranks broke just as suddenly, running and screaming for their lives as Elidor continued to fell those who would dare retreat. Dietrick and Soliel simply cutting a swath through all who would oppose the group of us, and I, tried my best to keep the contents in my stomach in place. Thankfully, Dietrick had been thoughtful enough to keep a single one alive, long enough for him to share what he knew. He confessed the cult was attempting a ritual, and that there was nothing we could do to stop it.
Oddly fitting as all the blood the three had spilled was fueling the ritual itself, which came to fruition before our eyes. Thankfully, Dietrick was more than able to do battle with the demons that came through the rift, with the rest of us standing about uselessly. The most I could do was tend to the poison one had struck him with.
The bodies of the innocent were laid to rest in Kelemvor's grounds. This entire affair has left a sour taste in my mouth. Yes, if given the chance the cult would have ended our lives without a second thought, but to have them cut down mercilessly, bodies piled up in mounds…
It had started simply enough, with dire animals attacking the southern gates. The town's defenders holding their own for the longest time against the constant horde of rats. Among us, Yngdir, Daveth and Arlan firing countless of arrows into them, with Wynn and her spells doing much the same. The rats eventually managed to scale the cliffs, swarming the defenders and causing a measure of injuries.
Events took a turn for the worst as the gates were suddenly battered down by what looked to be an earth elemental. It ran amok within our ranks, charging for whoever was closest. I had tried to run around it, but was knocked aside as it's fist came a full round into my chest. It hurt, but it wouldn't be the end of me. The elemental was finally brought down by Taniko's timely arrival and the constant ranged battering by our archers.
Night soon fell and the Yuan Ti came again, bringing reinforcements to aid us. Their numbers soon dwindled with the constant wave of enemies that assaulted the now open gates. I summoned what magic I could to help, but it proved all but useless against our new foes. Some manner of undead and mephits that spewed acid. When given the chance, those who could rest did so. But the constant fear of another attack was fresh in mind.
I looked to the sky, thinking it wouldn't be much longer before's daylight. Perhaps the attacks would cease then. As if in response, the ground shook, not once, but continuously, portending the arrival of our final foe that night. A giant creature of some kind, putrid and foul, lumbered into view. The defenders held their ground, some even charging to meet it in melee combat.
"Healer!"
Came Taniko's cry as he held off the abomination on his own. Even with the limited number of spells I had left at my disposal paired with crippling fear, I found myself rushing forward to stand by him. A constant stream of magic flowing through me as I begged what magic I had to keep the warrior on his feet for just a moment longer. Enough for the defenders to strike a killing blow on the towering giant, as the two of us retreated from it's falling form.
The Yuan Ti made a return then, speaking of a "Dead Old Power", and that any fights against it would be towards the south. Folks seemed to believe that this meant the dracolich, and decided it was best not to take an offensive just yet. More than likely it would take a lot more men, perhaps even an army.
Taniko thanked me again later that day, presenting me with a blade of some kind. I imagine it holds some manner of value in his culture. With that, I'd like to think I made a difference, however small._
-
_Folk have begun to notice the disease spreading rampantly out south, while talk of Talonans and wererats continue to fuel the local gossip. I would first hear of the wererats from Horlamin during our trip down into the crypts. Apparently he has been seeking them out for a time now, to glimmer what information as to their part in the disease spreading.
The trip itself went well, with no loss of life. Vash and Horlamin holding the front lines, with Danika, Caelisar and myself as support. Caelisar’s a capable healer, being a priest of Lurue. eager to find his place among those of the Circle, and proving his worth more times than not during the venture.
We were soon joined by another group of adventurers, the Dwarf Mud, Daveth and one other swordsman I was not introduced to. We managed to clear several of the lower chambers before turning back towards the surface.
While resting back at the gates, Horlamin noted that someone had called down a pillar of flame during one of the previous battle. I merely suggested it could have been anyone else.
In my usual stupor by the gates, I was barely awake when a man stumbled into the firelight. From the way he was dressed, he belonged to some manner of knightly order, and by the way he had an arrow lodged in his back, more likely in need of help. Using what skill I had, I removed the arrow and saw to the most grievous of his wounds.
We were soon joined by folk returning from the south, once again some familiar faces, though there were those I did not recognize, a hooded fellow with a white cloak, and an elven woman of sorts. The injured man was with a caravan headed towards the direction of Jyidd, when they were set upon by bandits. The group quickly rushed off north, while I left the poor fellow with a meal, making sure he could make his way towards the temple on his own.
The burning wreckage of the caravan was found at the crossroads, the bandits revealing themselves to be Cyricists. I had thought to go around behind the trees and perhaps flank them, but the battle was long since over. We recovered the items from the caravan, though the group seemed to believe they deserved it as a reward for their deeds. I went along with the usual manner of distribution, recovering what I believed to be most important among the scattered equipment. Two sets of armor, one clearly of the Helmite order, and one magically enchanted, belonging to the Order of the Divine Shield, and several additional potions.
It was a long and hard trek back towards Norwick, being unused to such weights. I left the items with the good people at the temple, not wanting to disturb the man’s rest.
The next time I would arrive at the southern gates, the Talonans would make their presence known. A Lady of Disease stood in between two rather large and diseased bears, making for quite the intimidating sight. Folk were hardly in a negotiating mood, Belia and Bran taking a firm, if aggressive stance against their foul doings, even when reminded of the deal that had been brokered.
I didn’t feel the need to speak up or take part, sitting out of eyeshot. There were moments at which it would seem violence between the two sides would break out, but thankfully, the Talonan took her leave along with her two animals.
I was asked to help with Elidor, as he had gotten himself diseased during the talks, most likely due to his usual antics. Before I could respond, the hooded man with the white cloak offered to heal him with a spell. I took an ear lashing from the lady when I off-handedly noted that I wouldn’t want to involve myself with the Talonans any longer, healing their “blessings” being a really bad idea.
Bran took towards the Hobgoblin woods with Apollo, most probably to work out his usual anger issues. I joined them shortly while escorting a lady who wished to follow them. Clayton had apparently met up with them at some point as well. I’ve only known the fellow for a short time, but enough to know that he’s a fine woodsman, and a good shot with that bow of his.
I find these outings to be a welcome respite, just having to make sure people are alive and well, and not so much the fate of the entire realm. I exaggerate of course, all these troubles with the Talonans should be over and done with in time, now that folk are mindful and are beginning to take action._
-
_As Elidor was so kind to describe,
"They're always fighting."
And so we were, seated across from each other by the ruined gates. Soliel and I continued to argue on the events prior. Neither side letting up for a moment. My words were practiced, having mentally run through them ever since we last parted. All life is sacred. Hers were emotional, striking at the heart of the matter. An eye for an eye.
We were only interrupted when a commotion broke out back towards the direction of town. A man had been murdered, a child-beater named Jameson. Two arrows were all it took to bring him down. The guards were quick to clear up the scene, the one in charge named O'Connor. From what I could tell from the guard's conversations, the victim was hardly a liked individual, being a frequenter of the jail house. They were unclear as to how the event had transpired, the killer still on the loose. Our help was not required, and we were ushered off the scene.
Zarius began his own inquiry into the matter, heading towards the inn, thinking it the best place to start. In my view, his remaining son works the eastern fields, if I ever see the need to look into things.
I only hope this is a single occurrence and not one to be repeated again.
The mood was heavy back at the southern fires, the scene of the murder still fresh in everyone's minds. Soliel took to the company of Zarius and Mialee, leaving myself with my thoughts. So caught up in them, I failed to notice another bear walking through the now-gone gates. The bear's dead-eyes, the overwhelming stench hanging in the air. It's much like a second sense to me now, to recognize the signs of the Talonans out south, and this was clearly their handiwork.
The woods have been odd as of late, and perhaps that is an understatement. It is devoid of the usual sounds of wildlife one would expect, instead I've found the decaying bodies of the smaller critters on my walks. The larger of them, wolves and deers are sluggish and slow to respond. Until that moment, I had not thought to link the two events together.
Soliel thought to calm the beast with spell and word, but it continued to act aggressively, long having since lost it's mind to the disease ailing it. I backed away, simply because I thought they could deal with a single bear, or in truth, fear of the Guardian and what events may lead towards. Zarius peppered it with spells while Mialee and Soliel distracted it, it was over before it began, the body laying sprawled by the fires. The two ladies being closest moved over to inspect the corpse when it abruptly exploded, sending all manner of gory mess over them. It was crude, but an effective way to spread the disease, the two of them quickly succumbing to its effects.
The attack was hardly over as two more waves of diseased goblins charged through the open wall. The three of my companions breaking out of line to get out of their way. I should remind myself in future that these goblins seem to simply shrug off the effects of lightning, which was my cue to get out of there quickly. Rushing back towards the town, thinking to call on the aid of the guards, I looked back to watch the remaining goblins continue to fanatically give chase and attempt to kill the three.
I stood there, the moment dragged as I wrestled with my thoughts. Soliel was still out there, she was in danger. Calling upon the rest of my spells, I steeled myself for what was to come next. With my companion by my side, we charged into the remaining of the goblin number, tearing them apart ferociously. At the least, it would give the three a chance to regroup behind the walls.
Even without a third attack, my fears were realized, for a Lady of Disease had arrived to observe their blessing's latest handiwork. She smugly noted that there was no breach in the "agreement", that the goblins and animals were acting on their own volition. I warned the others not to harm her, the Guardian's warning still fresh in mind. At my suggestion that they move on towards other realms, she said they would, but only after their work is done.
After their work is done? I'm afraid there'll be nothing left by then. I had thought to leave this matter in the hands of established adventurers and forget about it all. Had my reluctance to take a stand resulted in the continued decay of these lands? The questions pounded at the back of my mind as the Talonan turned to leave.
I couldn't match Soliel's gaze as she rushed to my side, tending to my wounds, her caring voice reminiscent of better times we had shared. I silently dealt with those still diseased and wounded from the battle, a healer's instincts taking over when I had naught else to direct me.
Dear Gods, what do I do now?_
-
_I attempted to travel the deeper hobgoblin woods on my own. The trip did not end well, and I nearly caused the death of another wandering adventurer due to my foolishness. I had drawn the attention of a goblin way beyond my abilities, and in attempting to escape, led it straight into his path. I hadn't even notice his arrival as I dashed deeper into the woods, thinking to lose myself in the foliage. Realizing my mistake, I turned back, taking a form more suited towards combat.
Whoever the man was, he knew how to fight. Holding off not only the goblin, but a hobgoblin raider as well. While he felled the goblin, I tore into the hob's neck from the rear, it had no time to react. I had hoped to apologize, but he merely glared and walked off deeper into their territory.
As my talents begin to reveal themselves, so does the insistent whispering in the back of my mind grow louder, that I could possibly be something more. The truth is as plain as day, I'm naught but a fool.
I've matched strength with a grizzly today, suffice to say, I lost, rather miserably at that. Recalling the sheer size and bulk of it, perhaps it wasn't the smartest thing to do. In hindsight, there was much else I could have done, but my curiosity got the better of me. It knew from the way I held my form that I was no kin, my display of ferocity most probably taken as a joke. It was both a blessing and curse that Elidor would walk by, saving my life and ending the grizzly's. Those who came later did not think twice as they eyed the bear's still form. I will remember this day, being unable to save yet another life.
The gates were briefly accosted by goblins, Elidor, Cara and one other lady took to it's defenses, beating the goblins back until their lines eventually broke. As the group kept a wary eye towards the south for another impending attack, it gave me a chance to speak to Soliel once again, though she had nothing kind to share. No attack came after.
Her anger continues to rage, on the loss of her companion friend and that I would betray her in aiding her companion's killer. I've become much like a sandbag, taking another beating of several kicks from her steeled boot into my gut. Fortunately, nothing was broken, though the pain would linger for a time as a reminder.
I still remember what she cried as she ran off towards the glen. More than likely to find comfort in a certain elf's arms.
"I hate you."
I doubt she heard my reply, drowned out by the quickening of her running feet.
"I loved you."_
-
_Bran's been having a tough time, between the situation with Gina, and the fact that Andrea wouldn't speak to him. Probably shouldn't have bothered, but inciting him into violence did seem to fix the latter. Though in turn I'd have to take a slap from the lady, a punch in the jaw, thrown over his shoulder and a head-butt by the bear.
As Einrihch put so well, "It's best not to poke the bear with a stick"
On that note, Einrihch's joined the legion, and was ordered to assist Pugor on his patrols. The half-orc himself is a dervish with that axe of his, bringing down foes with a single blow, and more than often, in a spectacular shower of blood and guts. Paired with Einrihch's flexible sword styles, they make a fine team.
When the time came for another patrol, I didn't think twice to follow, knowing them to be more than a match for the critters out south. Alongside us three came the lady Cara and the Dwarven cleric Vanderkaus. We managed to press deeper into the Hobgoblin territory, where Vanderkaus managed to find the oak wood he was looking for, though his tools gave way sooner than he'd have liked. But other than the occasional spot of odd weather, it was uneventful.
At least, until we decided to make our way back towards the town. We came across an armored figure while trekking through the old Norwick ruins. A familiar feeling was in the air, something was off about the man standing before us. The rest of the group seemed to sense the same, raising their weapons at the ready. Pugor was the first to walk up ahead, his course abruptly cut short when blades burst up from the ground, marking a clear divide between us and the lone figure.
It was obvious that our small group stood no chance against this new foe. Instead, Vanderkaus stepped forward with his holy symbol, demanding the enemy to begone. The self introduced "adventurer" merely laughed, confirming the fact he was no undead. He was another of the Talonans, charged with the duty to safeguard the "Ladies of Disease". Several of which have already fallen, one that I was witness of. He calmly warned us, that if any folk were to one again disrupt their activities, he would be quick to pass out said judgement.
I had then moved to leave, thinking it over and done with. But the adventurer had singled me out, apparently he had known of the previous incident with the priestess and my part in it. Bidding me to move closer, I did so with some manner of caution. He removed his helm then, the look of careless confidence on his features. I was too busy matching his gaze to notice his arm coming outwards at my head, dark magic gathering along it.
What happened next is hard to describe, as all manner of sickness hit me then. Constantly battering at my body's defenses until I finally succumbed to its effects. As sick as I was feeling then, an unnatural strength came with it, so much that I could probably have beaten Bran in a fist fight right then and there.
The Talonan left then, leaving us again with the grim warning. The group of us continued our way back towards Norwick. I did my best to keep a distance from my companions, knowing full well I might pass whatever it was I was inflicted with. Before returning within eyesight of the gates, I dealt with the disease best I could, with both spells and herbal concoctions I had with me.
As much as it would be wise to avoid the Talonan activities, it does not sit well with me, being a healer, to watch without protest. Consulting with my companions, we thought it best to alert those who could stand up against such forces. Perhaps the Legion or the Circle…_
-
_I was sitting by the southern gates when a sudden bellow cut through the air, as if a beast was in pain. Being the only one about at the time, I decided against my better judgement to investigate on my own. As I walked further south, it became apparent that the cries were once again from the middle of the lake. At the time I had my suspicions that perhaps it was the work of goblins and their kin.
Arriving within sight of the lake, I could immediately tell something was amiss. A sickly yellow mist hovered about the central isle, and the cries of a large beast continued. Adventurers had seemingly already arrived, or at least there was a red wyrmling busy in battle with goblins.The gathering party garnered the attention of the goblins pouring out from the mists, I watched while they did their best to fend them off. During the battle my hand was forced as one of the goblins, looking to be far meaner and well equipped went charging after Soliel. Her panther companion rushed in to protect her… She still carries that loss with her even now as I write this.
I kept my distance, observing as Brendel soon joined in the fray, but took too many a blow. Thankfully, Soliel and I were close enough to be of assistance. This being the second time I've kept one from dying by the accursed lake, I hope not to make it a habit.
The few who crossed the bridge and onto the isle were confronted with a priest of Talona. One of whom I was familiar with, having been in her presence back when Adriell had managed to talk her down. The bellowing cries that had drawn us here belonged to a bulette, this being the first I've managed to see up close. As I had suspected, the yellow mist was a danger, causing folk to take ill, coughing and hurling their guts.
Looking to the group then, I knew the initial exchange of sentences were merely a formality, the want of blood being foremost in mind. The priest was a formidable foe, wielding her halberd with deadly proficiency. Brendel went down first, taking the brunt of her blows. Apollo charged in without a second thought, faith and courage being his constant companion. Zarius casted spell after spell, fire, acid, magic, anything it would have taken to finally bring her down. All the while, I stood to the side, wondering if there was any other alternative.
There was hardly anything left of the priest when I got to her side, thinking perhaps I could save her life. A foolish notion as I was shoved aside and screamed at by Soliel.
The red wyrmling shifted back to her elven form, and alongside Soliel walked over to the bulette, perhaps to calm it or some such, I didn't stay to watch. Instead there was still the matter of the mist and disease to be dealt with, and I knew the spells that would be required. All I required was some peace and quiet for the concentration required.
The timely arrival of the local shaman had him in the middle of a ritual by the time I returned. Being in a foul mood, I could hardly care as I casted my spells, summoning the winds to be rid of the mist, causing most of the unprepared folk to lose their footing in the process. Ignoring their response, I dealt with the diseased and quickly took my leave.
Soon after that, Brendel was brought to the temple in Norwick, where he was raised, and looked to be a little shaken over the ordeal. And after what I've said to Soliel then, I doubt we'd be any closer than strangers from this point onwards.
Gods, I'm too exhausted to care._
-
_It's not all that often that I find myself walking within Oscura, usually it's to restock on certain items that are only available thanks to the trade down by the docks. With the recent events between Apollo and Alidor, I made sure to give the temple a wide berth as I made my way through the town. Recent talk would have folk gathering by the Shiny Coppers in wait for work. Andrea was there, Bran most naturally being nearby, akin to a protective guardian, ever watchful, ever ready to rage at the next thing he didn't like…
Andrea's perpetually in tears, cowering in fear in normal circumstances. I have a rough idea what misfortune had befallen her, during her talk with Alexi, but I don't see how her demeanor could change so dramatically in combat. Always being the first to charge in recklessly and getting herself seriously injured in the process. Ein and I have advised Bran on teaching her the ways of battle, but we both have reason to fear that she would be the cause of his death one day. But I rarely speak of such aloud now, as Bran would most certainly direct his anger and muscle towards me.
Bran had me escort her towards the inn, where I came across several more familiar faces, that of Jeremy, Alexi, Val, amongst those I have yet to be introduced to. A man by the name of Francesco arrived soon after, describing the work that was to be done. It seemed simple enough, he required additional hands to help dig a number of tunnels past the fish men. I minded my own drink in hand, only signalling that I too would go with the group.Val did most of the talking, as she commanded a certain air of respect, shortly taking command of the eight of us. All the while Jeremy kept up with his usual quips alongside a lady I am not familiar with.
During the trip through the fishmen I couldn't help but comment on Andrea, which earned a quick retort and glare from the bear. I promptly shut up, and followed in silence. I kept to the rear alongside Alexi, who I've come to find as pleasant company. As much trouble as we find ourselves in when he wishes to use his certain item and "moo power", I genuinely find myself having fun.
Exploring a new length of tunnel, the group found themselves under attack from what Val called "Displacer Beasts". I am unfamiliar with such things. They looked to be of a beastly nature, running on all fours, biting and clawing those who took to the front line. All in a day's work for them, I would surmise. Alexi and Val made sure the group stayed alive and well, tending to the injured wherever required. I began to wonder if there was a point to my presence.
We did eventually manage to find the mining base, past several more creatures I have no name for.
Keeping towards the rear of the group proved to be good practice, as the eastern walls suddenly exploded inwards while introductions were being made. I dived for cover behind the closest rock pillar, while the rest of the party suffered the worst of the initial blast. Aye, it was the Grey Dwarves who came barreling through the newly revealed tunnel, using the initial surprise to their advantage, quickly cutting down a number of the miners. There was barely much I could make out from the cloud of dust, mostly being that of figures yelling and screaming.
I attempted a spell or two, but by the time I had managed it, most of the fighting was over. Jeremy's lady companion slitting the neck of the enemy's leader. Val seemed to exchange heated words with the last surviving dwarf who was working for Francesco. By the end of it, we left back for Oscura, forgoing the mining work.
Back at the inn, Francesco seemed honest enough, keeping his end of the deal, paying us each a sum of two hundred gold for the day's work. The group moved on towards the common room where they would split the loot found off the Duergar. I was left out of the proceedings for one reason or another, so rather dejectedly, I took my leave and made my way towards Peltarch.
I don't mind my lot in life, in that I'd never be like them. But to be ignored?_
-
_It seems that the greenskins have something against Alidor, as the next time I would see him, his lifeless body would be laying sprawled in front of the southern gates. From what I’ve gathered; while on a trip to the far southern woods with Apollo and Einrihch , he was surrounded by sneaks and killed. If not for the timely arrival of Adriell, perhaps the other two would not have made it either. He was brought back thanks to the endeavors of a lady named Anor.
Perhaps it was not too kind on part of Einrihch and myself to constantly bring up the matter during our next patrol in the woods with him. As he took his leave, heading back north on his own.
Bran would make for a fine fellow if not for his short fuse, being quick to anger at whatever he would see fit. Be it the topic of Andrea, his inability to read and write, Gina, goblin runts…
Actually, he gets angry at almost anything.
This probably means I shouldn’t mention what Gina said the other night. He’d be liable to go off running south and getting himself killed, or make a rather large hole in the southern wall.
Aye, perhaps the teasing went too far. Alidor’s a self proclaimed Banite now, even had matching armor colors to go with the sudden conversion. Given the location of his admission, it most naturally ended with a fight. It was most unfortunate that Einrihch would unintentionally crush his skull with the flat of his blade._
-
_It was to be like any other patrol out towards the south, Alidor, Kabul, Red (which I’ve named simply for his colors) and myself, four in total. Keeping my eyes on the three as we passed through the old Norwick ruins, I failed to notice the goblin sneak who was about to stab me in the back. Thankfully, it seemed to have fumbled it’s opportunity as I stepped out of it’s reach, quickly being cut down by my companions.
We found it curious for a sneak to be out this far north on its own, perhaps signifying another impending attack against the gates. Red’s sharp hearing led us further south, where a large gathering of goblins had setup some manner of ritual on the center isle, a human sacrifice with a goblin shaman uttering nonsensities over the poor fellow.
After a moment’s preparation, Alidor led the initial charge over the bridge. I hadn’t realized at the time, the sheer number of goblins that were lying in wait. Before I could take action, Alidor found himself surrounded by the greenskins, the literal wave of a green tide felling him before I could make it to his side. Red was first to react, pushing the goblins back with his “claws” and feral-animalistic combat style. Kabul continued to release volleys of arrows as quick as he could, while I stuggled to drag Alidor back, away from the melee and into the land of the living.
We managed to retreat back a safe distance. And thank whichever Gods were looking upon Alidor that day, for he was still breathing, if just barely. I spent the remaining of my spells healing the group back into fighting shape, while the rest recovered their second wind. There was much to be done yet.
Taking no chances, I called upon my companion and lead the second charge, barreling through goblins with sheer size and bulk. I was angry then, for letting a friend brush with death. If I had taken the situation seriously from the very beginning, it would not have happened. I can barely recall the final moments of battle, a red mist over my eyes, with goblins attempting to run with their resolve broken. The goblin shaman was the last to fall, but not before it managed to finish whatever foul ritual it had begun. Crying out the final incantation with it’s dying breath.
The earth shook, hellish light shone brightly into the night sky as a portal opened. It suddenly became apparent that the goblins were attempting to broker a deal with the hells. And whatever would be stepping through onto our plane would be powerful and none too happy.
“Who dares summon my master?”
Demanded an imp, who was then shortly chased around by Alidor and Kabul who were dead set on ending it’s existence.
At least I wasn’t entirely wrong with my assumptions.
I sat underneath a tree, tending to my constant travelling companion, while the two were busy interrogating the imp. In hindsight, Red didn’t seem all too interested in the scene either. This was probably for the best.
I could hear the imp in my head, tempting me with power if I would only swear fealty to whatever or whoever its master was. Looking to my companions and their respective reactions, it seemed as if they too were having conversations in their heads.
As my father had always taught me since I was but a boy, “Keep your options open”. I was curious as to who would agree and withheld a proper answer, instead fielding several questions of my own.
A later meeting with the imp would prove the entirety of it for naught, as it abruptly exploded in a shower of gory bits. Whatever the implications of that may be, at least I know now, who would in fact agree to such dealings._
-
_I stumble upon a scene, Arlan with his blades drawn, apparently about to attack an elf. The moment was cut short when the elf nodded towards Val, who then stepped up behind Arlan to blindside him with her staff. I did not stay long enough to know the entire story, finding bliss in ignorance.
There is talk of vampires prowling the night, Apollo attests to the tale with injuries he had suffered from the encounter with “Harvey”. He confesses that he didn’t remember all too much about the incident, having been cut down in haste. He remains determined to continue with his training.
The attacks on the gates come far too frequent now, and on occasion it has fallen upon me to take a frontline against the foe. None seem too bothered as I shift forms, tearing and mauling as a bear, or calling down lightning from the sky. For at the end of the battle, I still remain the inconspicuous healer and herbalist.
During one of these attacks, I’ve met the vampire named Hawk. From the reception of the others, he is a friend to the town. He made a demonstration of his inhumanly quick sword skills, noting it was nothing compared to the greater evil, behind all the attacks. A draco-lich named Scy-
I’ve made my peace with Araendel, though I would admit, I’ve held nothing against the elf. From everything I’ve seen, he is righteous in his cause. He speaks of the Order of the White Aegis, explaining the white cloaks. Though this is the first I’ve heard of Noah being the leader. Fitting, I suppose. He too wishes that Soliel and I would eventually get along, “given time” I replied._
-
_Trips out towards the south are frequent, as I walk in the footsteps of those leading the way. Lacking in physical prowess, my skills in healing are all but the only reason I’m able to follow and be of use.
I observe as Noah effortlessly cuts down hobgoblins, one after another. It would be of no surprise that a person such as he, wouldn’t hesitate to offer his soul to a demon, to save the lives of innocents. Tales of such grandeur are best left to heroes, those that would brave the chilling darkness to end the threat of evil. The purple dragon shield and sword he carries are testament to that.
As a common healer, what would I know of such things?
Perhaps such is the reason I find the distance between Soliel and I to be widening considerably. Already she has taken steps towards her destiny, promised by the blessings of her faith and what I know of her past. I believe it won’t be too long before people begin to recognize her for one of Nobanion’s chosen.
My mood is heavy. There is little I can do, being unable to follow the road meant for greater men.
With the southern gates all but gone, attacks from the south have increased considerably. Good folk have taken to guarding the walls, passing the time with conversation and friendly duels, of which I was witness to one between Targohr and Arlan. With only fists for weapons, Targohr promptly proved to be the mightier of the two.
After tending to the bruises, I sat by the fires, sharing company with Noah and Apollo, the latter of which was a recent arrival to these lands, much like myself. If I recall correctly, he had arrived with the paladin Karessa, of who’ve I’ve not seen since the first meeting.
Walking back towards Norwick’s inn, I entertained the thought of leaving to continue on with my travels, but nearly walking into Chea as I did so. She is another of those I’ve met during my stay, her life focused on bringing up and caring for her younger brother, adventuring for what gold may be earned from it. Even now she spends most of the waking hours working in Peltarch as a scribe.
It is hard to put into words how I felt as I watched Soliel and Araendel walk by together. In some ways it comes as no surprise. From the beginning it was the finer fit, the two being priests of their respective faiths.
Though it hardly means I’m happy about it.
To take my mind off it, I followed a pair of adventurers, Zarius and Mud into Norwick’s crypts. There they did battle with all manner of undead that I’ve yet to be familiar with. Both are formidable in their own right, Mud with his greatsword and Zarius with his spells. At one point it seemed we would have been overwhelmed, but Mud’s dwarven tenacity prevailed in the end, charging back into the fray regardless of the wounds he had.
I realize that I have to keep myself busy, lest I be alone with my thoughts. A notion I truly do not wish to entertain._