Here is the continuation of our adventure within the wizard's cabin.
Once we made our exit from the termite hole we heard what we first thought was a bird. Instead, once we took a closer look we realized it was a Stirge. A horrendous mix between a giant mosquito and a bat. Presumably this must have been the wizard's familiar. We deviced a few plans to deal with it for without its master it had turn feral and hostile towards anything that presented itself as a meal; in this case us.
Our two options were as follows; lure it with a termite into some runic mines courtesy of our cleric or have our bard fascinate it for a short while until we could make our exit. We decide on the former with our rogue throwing a snare for good measure. If it succeeds the Stirge would be both damage and trapped, an easy target for the rest of our party. It did succeed, partially, the Stirge fell for the runes and triggered them but proves too qui
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Booming thunder and flashing lightning accompany epic keyboard music, presumably written by a Bard that looks a lot like John Tesh.
Massive dwarven runes drop from the sky, spelling out the title of everyone's favorite Saturday afternoon entertainment: BATTLE ROYALE!
The thunderclouds clear, and we pan overtop of our stage, four buildings with a single door, two on either side of a deep river, featuring two parallel bridges. Four towers bracket the arena in its corners, with their battlements accessible by stairs. As the theme song builds to a crescendo, MAGRIM, the overseer of the Dwarven afterlife, appears in a flash of lightning, looming over the stadium as a giant would over a bowl of chili.
MAGRIM: It's another beautiful day at Droskar arena, home of Droskar, god of sufficient toil and eventual success. Welcome to the World of the Gods network, where we break all the rules for your entertainment. Party allegiances? GONE! Character Alig
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SETTING: In a small, warmly lit village, Davian Dawntracker paces slowly through a circle of smiling villagers, introducing his story. Minstrels play festively in the background, and lots of people are eating pork.
DAVIAN: Gather 'round, young and old, rich and poor, drunk and stupid or hot and blonde! Prepare yourselves for the legend of how I, Davian Dawntracker, killed an Ogre!
CROWD: Gasps, then CHEERS!
DAVIAN: It all starts in the boathouse... of a GHOST!
DAVIAN: Well, it was really more of a mercantile ghost. The guy was trying to make an honest buck in a tough business. You got a lake with a zombie dragon in it, and you loan some idiot your boat... it's not sustainable at all. The ghost of a once-profitable business, if you ask me.
AS we camp in this back yard of this undead future bankruptcy, we were set upon by WILD BOARS!
They group heads to the lake through very dense forest and comes across dirt road. They hear a crack followed by a thump and then Yalandra falls into a 50ft hole and lands on a rotting table. There are six large barrels around the room and a large stone engraving of an impressive figure on the wall possibly a dwarf. Lead tiger jumps down into the hole with an impressive landing. The rest of the group climbs down via ropes to join them. Lead Tiger confirms that the stone carving is dwarven. Dar-Wynn attempts to put a tap in one of the kegs and it falls through. They discover that the kegs used to hold what smells like a combination of mead and beer. Lead tiger opens the door and moves down a hall to a large open room that appears to be a kitchen. They hear sobbing coming from just beyond the kitchen. As they approach the sound the sobbing stops and a voice asks them to go away. They proceed and see a small ogre with silver skin. Lead tiger asks if the ogre needs help. Gumbach t
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In light of recent events that include my own travel through an underwater tunnel, I’ve resumed our estranged pen pal relationship. I’m on the other side of the mountains.
I’m traveling with the strangest of companions- Dar-Wynn, a singing, flying, humanoid feline brewmaster (if you bought that the rest is probably going to sound reasonable), Konrad, a cleric that’s saved my life at least twice, Yalandra, a gnomish sorceress, and “Lead Tiger,” a professional recommender of violence.
We’ve signed onto the employ of the town of Covenant, which appears to be ruled entirely by a dragon. This isn’t usually up for debate, but this notorious monster has had its brains scrambled with that of an average pussy cat. Their militia now counts myself among their most competent, which, by itself, is a disaster, but coupled with the dragon-sized kitten roaming their property, clearly categorizes th
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