Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 3
|Alric||Fighter level 1||Tall, broad-shouldered avatar of masculinity. Obligatory horned helmet and majestic blonde mustache included.|
|Richter||Fighter level 1||Ugly looking figure with ruddy face, belching speech, and single tooth.|
|Reedo||Halfling level 1||Portly, somewhat distant and out-of-place, novice adventurer seeking riches in the big scary world. Very likeable.|
|Myst||Elf level 1||Otherworldly gorgeous. Failed bard, currently dipping his toes into this “adventuring” stuff.|
|Saga-Bhoy||Thief level 1||A slender man of many careers, including, but not limited to: gambling, almanac-writing, and pranking.|
Reedo's, Richter's, and Alric's reports linked at the end of the post.
Thawmist 12th, Waterday
Having insulted all those that might have work for them, Richter resorted to what he knows best—getting piss drunk with locals. After an indiscriminate amount of time, he found himself with a new friend, new tattoo, and a treasure map. Nothing says “great plan” better than following a drunkards map.
Reedo managed to recruit Armar, a silver haired, pale-skinned, seasoned fighter. And so this adventuring troupe set out to recover some riches, their first stop being Weststar keep. Once again, they found that locals don't put a lot of trust in the castellan, Lord Karnalt. Even worse, it seemed like most of the force were poorly equipped peasants.
“Praise the Sun, father!” a loud exclamation awoke Allon, his head throbbing with pain. He found himself in a simple, but serviceable bed, in a small room. He was still dressed in his clerical garments, but nor his chainmail, nor sword, were in sight.
“Sir Roenald, at your service, father. As you can see, we've taken good care of you. Although, I must disclose my great displeasure with those rag-tag bandits you were seen with!”
“Now, father, you surely understand that it took us significant effort to nurture you back. Many people tended to your wounds, salves had to be made, and I had to vacate this room! All for you.”
“Here, I took the liberty to bring a parchment and quill pen, so you can write to your temple. 300 gold coin will suffice, but we will not refuse any additional donations!”
Allon, coughing painfully, took a sip of water, followed by making the sign of the sun over his third eye. “Blessings on you Sir Roenald. May I ask where we are? And my companion, a dwarven fellow, is he safe? Is he alive?”
“Don't worry about that—you are in my care, and you are safe now.”
“Your dwarf friend is also well taken care of. He is resting in another room.”
“But, tell me something father. Why did you and your friends try to break into my home during night? That was most rude.”
“Demon!” Allon spat water at him.
“May the Radiant Death burn your hide! I shall write no letter of ransom. I came to bring law to these lands. For light burns away shadow!”
Allon's righteous rebuke took Roenald by surprise, and he fell down on his ass. Unfortunately for Allon, he was also quick to get up, and shout whilst delivering a hard-slap “So be it, father! Remember my offer as you rot away in the darkness I tried to save you from! Remember it when the rats come for you!”
Staunchly determined, Allon retreated into a Gregorian-like chanting, hoping for blessed visions from his God and praying for swift death; a miraculous immolation like those recorded in the canon scriptures of the Radiant Death.
His skin begun to crawl; tingles could be felt in the air; hope! No light came.
“All is lost, even God leaves me, in this, my darkest night.”
Two humanoid figures with rodent-like features burst into room just as Allon finished his plea. They easily overpowered him, tied him up, and put a sack on his head. He could feel being dragged and scratched. He heard a woman's voice “No, this isn't right! My father will hear about this!”
Some voices spoke common, some were just primitive grunts.There was a brief pause, a moment of respite. Alas, it did not last long. He could feel a long staircase, smell damp, fetid, air. This went on for who knows how long, until another pause came. Allon could hear wood creaking—doors perhaps?—and then a strong waft of sweet incense-like aroma. “Oh, another play-thing for me? What a wonderful gift!”
And then there was nothing but light and joy.
Thawmist 13th, Earthday
Following an uneventful day of marching through the woods, our band of adventurers set up a humble, but comfortable camp. Unlike the day, the night has proven to be most eventful.
On his night-watch Reedo heard swooshing sounds, like a leathery sail gliding through the air. That was followed by loud sounds of cracking branches. He was quick to wake everybody in the camp.
The adventurers were quick to set-up a perimeter, orienting themselves towards the dark woods whence the noise cometh from. At one moment they could hear a voluminous monstrous roar. Richter's natural response was to make as much noise as possible, banging his shield and roaring in kind. There can be only one alpha in this woods.
The party quickly spilled some oil and set it aflame, creating a firewall between themselves and incoming behemoth. “I am not paid well enough for this!” Armar shouted as a scaly wedge with yellow-glowing eyes rushed out, revealing its narrow slithery body, supported by two thick hind legs, and a pair of wide, leathery wings. Sparring no moment, it lurched itself high in the air, slamming down on Armar with all its weight.
Veteran warrior he is, he quickly tumbled to the side, resulting in the creature hitting the ground head first. There wasn't much to be celebrated, for Armar was pierced through his chest by the creature's long, muscular, tail that ends with one mean stinger.
Alric, Richter, and Arder rushed in around the creature, with the horned warrior delivering a mighty blow. Myst went the safest distance he could before peppering the flying snake with arrows. Reedo was bravely hiding in the bushes, until he had a brilliant idea of trying to pin the creatures wings with the grappling hook. Unfortunately, we did not get to see if that plan would work, for the creature flew away, roaring sheepishly; Armar still hanging on its tail.
Just as they were discussing what to do, out brave band could hear another roar, which somehow seemed even deeper and louder than the previous one. They quickly grabbed their backpacks, and made a run for it, leaving behind their other belongings.
Everything from then on was a mad dash for survival, a blur of darkness, sweat, adrenaline, and thick musk of fear. Another creature nearly took Reedo away, his beginner's luck kicking-in. Our band ran and ran through the darkness; they ran despite their muscles screaming, despite branches marking their skin, despite breaths burning their throats; they ran until the sun started to rear its wonderful head.
And then they collapsed in whatever grass looked safest.
Their rest was cut short by arrival of Saga-Bhoy. and his vocal entourage of women and children. Given the altercation between one of the fine ladies and Saga-Bhoy, it seemed like our lover-boy was better at lovin' than earnin.' Luck was on his side, for he just stumbled upon a group of adventurers seeking treasure! Beat up ones, but still, seeking treasure.
And so our adventurers kept pressing on, exhausted but determined. They'd stop at nothing, and run from everything. Their muscles were screaming, their bodies aching, but their spirit was ever strong.
Until they ran into a group of three titanic humanoids smashing a pile of rocks. Much to their horror, one of the figures turned its head to them; the hang of its large jaw revealing the lack of intelligence. “Kleetus, my friend, don't you remember me?!” Saga-Bhoy ousted. The silence was deafening. Creature turned back to its rocks, which seemed to be much more amusing than this band of squishies. Having parleyed enough, the party was quick to leave. Some claim Saga-Bhoy had a tear in the corner of his eye.
Our heroes marched through day and night, stopping only to satiate their most basic human needs. Exhaustion started seeping into their minds, fogging their judgement and critical thinking capabilities even further. It was no surprise that almost cost them their life.
Dragging themselves down the hills they've just traversed, slogging through increasingly jungle-like woods, the party was lucky to have Reedo's keen ears pick up some far noise. Exasperated party hid themselves in the foliage, whilst Reedo went on to explore... Hidden in foliage as well, of course.
Lo and behold, there was a camp of some 40-ish humans. They were engaged in violent discussions, passionately speaking of revenge, “taking back what is theirs,” and some “accursed hunchback.” Having heard enough, Reedo informed his compatriots, and they continued their march.
On the dusk of Thawmist 16th, our band finally reached Rantar's keep. Make-shift, flea-ridden beds never looked so good.
Player's Session Reports
- Reedo's Journal: Chapter 1 – Journey from Kestizar
- Richter's Diary: Thawmist 16th
- Alric's Journal: Alric’s Journal
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