Campaign Chronicles

08 Newkolt 349 AC As Romulus finished his inventory of the magical equipment recovered from Flight Marshal Chomaz, Kysek considered the amulet. “Do you think the amulet can be fitted to be worn by a griffon? After Dusk's injuries, I'd like to do what I can to better protect her. Evasion and invisibility help, but a little added natural armor would be helpful.” Romulus nodded. “No reason that it shouldn't work. We can probably fix it to her chest strap.” Ra'ziir glanced over the remaining magical equipment. “I don't think anything here is an improvement over the equipment I already carry, but I wouldn't mind adding some protections to Redclaw and Dusk if anything is left over after we pick through it. Assuming they can use it, of course.” Shadow, meanwhile, was examining the heavy lance. “This one and I have history,” he remarked, patting the weapon. “I think I will hang on to it.” He opened his bag of holding and began lowering the lance into it, point firs...

08 Newkolt 349 AC With the last of the civilians evacuated, Shadow packs away his spellbooks. He take s note of the condition of them, some are his original tomes dated back to his time in Sorcere, the wizard school of Mennzoberranzan, others were claimed from various dungeons or as loot taken from fallen foes. Each had a history and while some had indeed seen better days, but all were perfectly serviceable arcanabulae - even if they bore the stains left behind by spilled drinks or dinners. Still... perhaps a trip to the Tower of Wayreth was in order. He was no longer an apprentice, after all. "Maybe I could have these bound into a set more befitting Spewer's high opinion of what a wizard's spellbooks should look like. He shrugged, "May not look like much on the outside but it has got it where it counts.” With his books packed, the drow headed downstairs. - - - - - Most of Grotto's companions had passed through Lady Nihriome's great hall. The refugees had...

  08 Newkolt 349 AC A few minutes ago... Raven lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. The Reverie had once again eluded him so he would just rest his eyes for a little while. Then, he fell asleep. - - - - - Downstairs, in what had once been a grand hall where musicians played and guests dined and danced seemingly without a care, Parnitha stood at the map table once again. She had managed to steal a little over twenty minutes to get cleaned up and change into a fresh uniform. A heavily watered glass of wine stood nearby, largely untouched as she looked at the two lists in front of her. The first list had one-hundred and thirteen names written on it, along with that name's owner's medical disposition - walking wounded, critical condition, frostbitten but functional, stable. The second list was about one-third of those names sorted into order of evacuation. She recognized a handful of surnames, thought she may know a couple if she had a face to put to them. She sighed, o...

08 Newkolt 349 AC Raven sat cross-legged on the bed, hands resting on his knees, palms up and closed his eyes. Cedron's magic had done its work. He could breathe normally without his ribs screaming in protest. The slashes across his back from the dragon's claws had closed - the wounds scabbed over and the scabs had already flaked away, leaving fresh skin beneath. He began concentrating on the Reverie. "Blackbird... Red One..." Raven's eyes opened. Ra'ziir's voice carried across the mindlink, "We're trailing the column. It's possible the ancient green Wyrm is the same beast that Shadow saw in his scrying… I'll update you as we learn more. Red One out." He considered sending a response, but there was little point. Ra'ziir and Kysek knew what they were doing, and Ra'ziir had said he would report when they knew more. Besides, Raven had been given explicit instructions concerning what he was supposed to be doing. He glanced ...