Campaign Chronicles

05 Hiddumont 348 AC (05 Elient 1342 DR) Menathradon   of House Magus arrives to take Shadow, Romulus, and Ra'ziir to their respective Tests of High Sorcery. Menathradon nods to Ra’ziir and motions for him to join Romulus and Shadow. He asks the group to join hands in a ring. A moment later, each individual member of the group finds themselves alone at the edge of a forest. The autumn air is damp and smells of rain. No leaves remain on the skeletal branches of the dead trees as they reach for the sky. A low fog curls around the adventurers' feet and boughs. The smell of decay is thick in the air, leaving a greasy feel inside of your noses and a foul taste in your mouths. Despite over a decade spent on the road, facing dangers of every sort, a chill runs down your spine and goosebumps rise along your arms. In the far distance, a pair of black towers, illuminated from within by a sickly blue light stands, looming over the treetops. A narrow, rutted road leads into the dark forest.

05 Hiddumont 348 AC (05 Elient 1342 DR) Menathradon of House Magus arrives to take Shadow, Romulus, and Ra'ziir to their respective Tests of High Sorcery. Menathradon nods to Ra’ziir and motions for him to join Romulus and Shadow. He asks the group to join hands in a ring. A moment later, each individual member of the group finds themselves alone at the edge of a forest. The autumn air is damp and smells of rain. No leaves remain on the skeletal branches of the dead trees as they reach for the sky. A low fog curls around the adventurers' feet and boughs. The smell of decay is thick in the air, leaving a greasy feel inside of your noses and a foul taste in your mouths. Despite over a decade spent on the road, facing dangers of every sort, a chill runs down your spine and goosebumps rise along your arms. In the far distance, a pair of black towers, illuminated from within by a sickly blue light stands, looming over the treetops. A narrow, rutted road leads into the dark forest.

05 Hiddumont 348 AC (05 Elient 1342 DR) Menathradon nods to Ra’ziir and motions for him to join Romulus and Shadow. He asks the group to join hands in a ring. A moment later, each individual member of the group finds themselves alone at the edge of a forest. The autumn air is damp and smells of rain. No leaves remain on the skeletal branches of the dead trees as they reach for the sky. A low fog curls around the adventurers' feet and boughs. The smell of decay is thick in the air, leaving a greasy feel inside of your noses and a foul taste in your mouths. Despite over a decade spent on the road, facing dangers of every sort, a chill runs down your spine and goosebumps rise along your arms. In the far distance, a pair of black towers, illuminated from within by a sickly blue light stands, looming over the treetops. A narrow, rutted road leads into the dark forest. Moving forward, the formerly dead forest transforms, becoming full of life with vibrant green leaves, ferns, grasses, a

Grotto walks with Shadow a bit, fascinated that he can suddenly speak any language. "Shadow my friend, speak Drow to me! Then draw me like one of your girls!" Grotto laughs! "If to know Drow, I must hear it first then let me hear your native tounge!" Shadow spends a few moments conversing with Grotto in Drow and is amazed at the fact the scarred Dwarf can understand him. “Interesting, I no longer need my Tongues spell.” He spends a moment thinking about it and with a slight shrug, reaches the conclusion that the lack of reaction from the group speaks deeply of their world-weary, jaded demeanors. Cedron is confused (and a bit concerned) by the group's failure to contact Malazzarr and Hanseath. He thinks to himself, “I need some time alone with others to investigate this more. Could it be this realm has somehow blocked off it’s connection with the divine?” Cedron returns to the others. He looks to the circle hoping maybe some of his bardic instincts will help offe

Onforithalas scowls at the party, not liking how they were able to penetrate so deeply into Silvanesti without detection. He mutters and grumbles to himself, and is overheard by Knives. The ex-mayor of Hamelin smiles and says, "Don't let it get you down. I go most places undetected." The guardsman's frown deepens, his jaw clenched so tightly that the acrobat swore he could hear teeth cracking under the pressure. Drax followed along, a silhouette in the bright autumn afternoon. He watched everything and took in all the details, intersections, landmarks, shops, elevated firing positions, passersby, guards, and potential places to seek cover as the group traveled to their destination. The assassin, as usual made almost no sound as the group moved through the city, being so unobtrusive as to almost not exist in the minds of on-lookers at all. The group moves around the runic circle, each of the wizards pondering the patterns within the ring. Grotto joins them after a few

At Onfroithalas' question, Shadow looks the elf in the eye, “I am indeed a Wizard and I am from my own Tower of Wizardry, although it may not be as High as one of yours. I have not seen them yet and will refrain from commenting further until I have.” He taps his staff once again to turn off the Light. “And I guess you were not listening to the Drow’s story, allow me to speak once again as to who we are and where we come from. We are travelers from another Prime Material Plane and we are somehow lost. We keep ending up in other worlds and having to solves their problems before being unceremoniously dumped into another world. Thus here we are. Where is here by the way?” Ra’ziir arches an eyebrow as the elf bellows, and says “And just like that, the Welcoming Party comes to an end…” Grotto sits unsteadily, his mind sent spinning by the loss of his connection to his god, Hanseath. "No magic! I will have to get to brewing when time allows! I will keep us stocked with potions to try

Realizing his words have fallen on deaf ears, Ra’ziir speaks to Onfroithalas in Elven. Not expecting the languages to be similar but trying nonetheless, he says, “It seems the disdain for Dwarves in your world rivals even that of my own… Grotto is short tempered, and often belligerent, but he has proven to be a valuable addition to our group.” Onfroithalas rolls his eyes, "Yes, so all of your companions have said and yes, perhaps, he is as good and noble as all of your companions claim but until I see it with my own eyes, I will withhold judgment." Ra'ziir's head swims for a moment as a bit of the last night in Asgard washes over him. He sees Odin, now dressed in heavy furs and chainmail leaning over him, light spilling out from around the edges of his eyepatch, "... and you have far to travel still and challenges beyond your imagination await. I will provide each of you a gift to make your journeys easier. I grant you the ability to speak and understand any lang