Campaign Chronicles

Sunday Morning, 06 October 1985 The Josephson Property Fairhaven, Illinois      The sun had barely cleared the eastern horizon when Greta Whittaker pedaled her ten-speed bicycle along County Road 6.      She hadn't gotten much sleep.      Between finishing her show, helping Elliot put away the props, and thinking about Harold's mysterious telephone call, she'd finally gotten home well after midnight. But the possibility of an actual monster? That was worth getting up early for.      The morning air was chilly. Mist hung over the low fields, and the roadside ditches were filled with fallen leaves. Greta wore her usual black denim jacket over a faded T-shirt, black shorts, green fishnet stockings, and a pair of battered sneakers. Her bright green hair was tied back in a ponytail. She had a backpack containing a flashlight, a notebook, a disposable camera, and a couple of granola bars.    ...

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...

Saturday Morning, 05 October 1985 KMEL-13 Public Television Station      Harold Jenkins walked into the break room, coffee in one hand, doughnut in the other, with a newspaper tucked under one arm. He put the coffee down and with his now free hand, tossed the paper onto the table.      "Congratulations, Bob. You made the front page again."      Bob Mercer, a local insurance salesman and president of the Fairhaven Historical Society looked up and smiled. "Oh, um, yeah. We bought the old barn on the Josephson property. We're going to restore it as an example of early pioneering history. It should be an interesting project."      Harold nodded, "Good for you. Will the barn be part of your show this week?"      Bob shook his head, "Oh, um, no. Not this week. We're going to have to do quite a bit of work on it before it can be presented as part of ' Fairhaven's Historical Corner .'"      "Well, l...