Campaign Chronicles

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...

Grotto scowls at the obvious insult! "That's Mr. Dwarf to you bub!" Grotto says through pursed lips. "I will let your obvious slight towards me and my kind pass since your were hospitable enough to nurse us back to health. Think of it as your free pass!" The rest of the party leaps to Grotto's defense, citing his bravery and honor and being amongst the highest known in all of their travels. The scarred dwarf's eyes heart fills with pride and he swallows a lump that has mysteriously appeared in his throat. Onfroithalas raises both hands, palms facing the party. "Nearly 350 years ago, in the immediate wake of the gods hurling their mountain down upon Istar before abandoning this world, a group of refugees  came to the very gates of Pax Tharkas, the so-called 'Citadel of Peace', seeking shelter from fiery rain and ash. Until then, we had though of the dwarves as friends but they showed their true nature they turned us away. Perhaps That Dwarf i...

The adventurers all struggle to reach sitting positions, questions tumbling through groggy, alcohol-impaired minds, those questions being primarily, "Where is Silvanesti," "How did we get here," and "Who is this King Lorac person?" The matron opens her mouth and is about to speak when Grotto swings his feet over the side of his bed and attempts to stand. His stomach rebels, instantly and violently. The only thing that keeps him from emptying its contents onto the polished marble floor is that it is already empty. The dwarf's knees buckle as he dry heaves over and over again, struggling to catch his breath as tears roll down his cheeks. After about a minute, three elves help him back onto the mattress, one pats his back between the shoulders while the others avert their eyes, not facing Grotto’s scarred visage directly.  Romulus, clears his throat, smiles and takes a handful of the offered foods. "I'm so hungry. It feels like i haven't eate...

I have started this post a couple of times now. Each attempt has left me feeling, well, "meh", for lack of a better word/sound effect. Capturing the majesty of Odin wasn't working and the thought of another 15 posts worth of conversation literally bored me. So, instead, we skip ahead to the next world so the group can hit the ground running. Enjoy! - - - -  "I think this one is waking up," said an unknown voice from...somewhere above. The gentle tone resounded with the thunderous roar of an erupting volcano. Following his first retirement, Kysek had spent his accumulated fortune on the best clothes, finest foods, and sweetest wines in an unrivaled decade of decadent debauchery. And never, not even once, had he been in such agony after a night of partying. He cast his mind back to the previous evening, drinking in Valhalla alongside his companions and the gods. Through a muddled haze, he dredges a memory to the surface. "Moments before the All-Father's a...