Campaign Chronicles

18th Day of the Month of Sunsebb 573 CY calendar Jamaros and the wraith face each other. The undead barbarian's mind swirls with thoughts of violence and murder but he knows that even his most heavily enchanted weapons won't have much effect on the spirit so, begrudgingly, he decides to try diplomacy. He chokes down his anger and repeats, “I am Jamaros Many-Battles. The Ghoul King has named me general of his army and sent me to carve out his domain. I need to know the location and disposition of our enemies as well as the forces at our disposal.” The hollow voice of the wraith echoes back at him, “And I am still Marquis Folggnaw, master of this city.” The incorporeal entity's vaporous form shifts, swirling black smoke backlit by the glowing joints of the armored figures behind him. Folggnaw continues, “Very well.” He gestures to some guard concealed behind the barrier, “Open the gate. The general and I have much to discuss.” A moment later, Jamaros hears the “

Description of the Scarlet Marpenoth The Scarlet Marpenoth is a submersible vessel designed by a pair of gnomish inventors employed by the Coberal Trust Company in 1365 DR. The submersible hull itself measures 15‘ long by 8‘ wide by 7’ tall. When surfaced, the ‘ Marpenoth has approximately 18” of freeboard. The submersible itself resembles a large barrel with a smaller barrel serving as its nose. Three fins and a number of appendages are attached at various points along the outside of the vessel. A small circular hatch provides access to the interior cabin. The Scarlet Marpenoth requires a crew of two small-sized operators; one to steer and manipulate the vessel’s appendages and one more to provide thrust and braking power. The cabin is watertight to a depth of 100’ and has a maximum sustainable dive of 400’ before the hull begins to collapse. A pair of silver mirrors has been enchanted with Continual Flame spells and mounted on the roof of the canopy to provide lig

Day Five of the Odinsleep; 7:00 am (Sunrise) After passing over the bulk of Loki's army and avoiding a fee boulders thrown at them by the Frost Giants, the party soars through the air on flying horses. Some of the riders allow their thoughts to wander, taking a few moments to find pleasure in minor fantasies for a future they may or may not have or, in Grotto's case, remain mired in guilt and shame. As the sun rises on the party's left, Raz'iir can barely contain his exuberance and shouts out, "Yippie-Kai-Aye Motherf..." although the end of his cry is carried away on the wind. Cedron's thoughts form a short poem that he shares with those close enough to hear. "Horses dance in clouds. To our certain death we ride. Adventure we seek!" Kysek and Arthur scan the ground below. While many features pass by in a blur, the two adventurers catch a brief glimpse of the dawn's light glinting off steel. At first, it seems like n