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Heading north across the border Brigit and Tungdil faced dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, having fought their way … to paraphrase Labyrinth they went into dangerous places and got into a scrap or two as all brave adventurers do.

Thank you Glasgow for a great day out. We shall be back for more Scottish shenanigans I am sure.

If you know you were there and have been misnamed (or forgotten on the lists) please comment below or contact me at wolfish[dot]written[dot]author[at]gmail[dot]com.

 

Player Mission – Danger at Crow’s Rest and the Carron Oak

Baron Darrow of Rattray, on the edge of the Carron Valley, seeks aid in tackling a growing bandit and dark elf problem threatening the Carron Valley. The adventurers who answered his call for aid were:

  • Warren of the Mercenaries Guild;
  • Mordred of the Scouts Guild;
  • Vaaria of the Guild of Mages;
  • Sir Benedict Grey of the Knightly Templar Order; Errant Tristan Blueheart of the Knightly Grey Order;
  • Mother Brigit Wooller of Crowa;
  • Rook;

The group set out from Rattray after Brigit cleansed Mordred for the day of a curse that had befallen him – a curse that bent his mind to mindless indiscriminate slaughter of his foes, which made Brigit fear for the party should his mind be turned against them. On the road to Crow’s Rest they encountered a group of mourners who had been ambushed by dark elves and their funerary wagons raided as their hired muscle tried to stop them. Devastated at the loss of their relatives and in a great deal of pain from their wounds, the bereaved locals tried to answer the adventurers questions as best they could. Urging them to return back to safety, the adventurers proceeded to make preparations as their scout tracked the direction from whence the dark elves had come and they proceeded on towards Crow’s Rest. They encountered a group of the Pack by a burned out trading wagon – members of the “Reformed Roving Company” who had turned to evil ways again in service of the bad fae queen and her dark elves – who thought they might have some sport with the travellers. They soon learnt the error of their ways and the adventurers continued on.

Fighting through dark elves and undead they came to Crow’s Rest, a Kharachian holy site where the locals brought their dead to be laid to rest and interred in the graveyard. Dark elves had attacked the priests and slain all but one before continuing onto the graveyard. Confused as to what anything might want with bodies that had already been laid to rest, a thought was offered that perhaps the creatures were looking for something among the grave goods left with the deceased, and time was suddenly of the essence. Accepting a blessing offered by the priest and wishing him well with his grim duty of tending to the souls of his church members, the adventurers set off in haste after the dark elves. They came upon a dark elf necromancer disturbing the peace. After destroying the restless dead they knocked the necromancer out and bound his hands before rousing him for questioning. Brigit got too close as the creature was spitting curses at Sir Benedict and was choked as it was able to loosen its bonds made hastily with a dirty bandage. As she sank to her knees wheezing, the dark elf pitched to the floor with a scream as it had earthed itself against Errant Tristan’s armour.

Heading for the Carron Oak they were met by a pair of elves of the Moon tribe who warned them of a growing number of forces in the area that were gathering at the Carron Oak. Brigit, intrigued already by the mention of the age of the Oak, asked permission to meet with the elves after their task was complete to speak of the Oak and the history of the area and they agreed to a meeting. The last time the group had ventured near the Oak they had faced one of the fae champions and had turned the dark champion to the side of light. It was likely they would have to face another champion or some of the creatures that looked like dogs and required sharpened weapons to destroy. Making their preparations the party continued on.

They were attacked by a pair of the Pack who charged at the party’s archers and put them down before their companions could reach them, but once the group had bound their wounds and distributed what little healing alchemy they had on their persons, they hurried on to the Oak. They came upon a ghostly elven maiden, who had been the first champion of the “good” fae queen during the first war between the courts. She had been betrayed and killed in combat, though not before she had vowed that her dark counterpart would never get his hands on the swords of the champions and that she would see them go to worthy bearers. Alas he slew her before she could see this task through and her own companions had slain him as he gloated over her corpse. They had carried her body and the swords away but her spirit had lingered still, lost in time and waiting for a chance to make good of her oath. She sought the adventurers’ aid, looking for a worthy champion to take up her sword and keep the fae queens from continuing their influence on the lives of the people of the Valley. Sir Benedict, Errant Tristan and Brigit volunteered to be tested, and were named members of the ghost’s Knights Coterie. She tasked them with stopping her enemy – Racul Deathsinger – from continuing his Queen’s work even in undeath (for he too had lingered in bitterness at his own demise).

They approached the Oak to find the ghostly form of a dark elf speaking to others of his race in impassioned tones. Sir Benedict was able to speak its tongue and demanded to know what it was doing, which it did not take kindly to it. Gesturing at them it uttered a challenge in its own tongue but its gesture was clearly a challenge in any language. Brigit accepted and advanced to face the revenant in single combat. Back and forth they battled but Brigit was able to destroy it before its dark elf minions leapt into battle. At the end they were victorious and the ghost approached Brigit to offer her favour, but Brigit declined saying that one of the company who were regularly in the area would be better than she, though if she could help she would. She passed the Championship to Sir Benedict, remaining a member of the Knights Coterie and proving the worth of men to the ancient elven ghost.

With the Knight Champion once more granted, the way to the swords may now stand open to the adventurers and the labyrinth may give up its long protected treasures. Then the influence of the fae may be at an end … maybe …

 

Monster Mission – The cure for world hunger

The adventurers were hired by a member of the Guards who had received reports of orcs and foulspawn attacking a small town out in the wilds. The adventurers who set out on this task were:

  • Kassalda Oranthil and an Elven member of the Scouts Guild;
  • Fisk Tannon and a Dwarven member of the Mercenaries Guild;
  • Forgemaster Dave McGowan of the Guild of Blacksmiths;
  • Tungdil Stonehammer of Tralda;

Setting out they came upon a group of foulspawn blocking the path, who eagerly attacked them when the thought came to them that humans and elves and dwarves would make delicious eating. More foulspawn, this time tormenting the troll that was trying to sleep beside a tree, and the adventurers made it to the outer edge of the town where a pair of woodsmen were sizing up a tree for felling. Unbeknownst to them they were being watched from the woodland by a dark elf and her foulspawn “squad” who waited until the adventurers continued on before they sprung their ambush and tried to make off with the woodsmen. The adventurers dashed back to their aid and the dark elf took her time, only appearing when it became clear that the foulspawn were not going to make off with their targets. She drew Tungdil and Fisk off into the woodlands but then vanished into the undergrowth when their companions got too curious and got away.

Down the path there were a pair of dark elves and another squad of foulspawn, clearly planning something devious until the adventurers interrupted them. As the foulspawn attacked, the dark elves flanked the party until one of them was able to separate the two elven scouts from their fellows and begin to drag Kassalda off into the marsh. The Forgemaster was having none of this and rescued Kassalda before killing the dark elf and going back to check on the state of his party.

The townsfolk were relieved to see the adventurers but were so on edge it soon became clear they had not slept in days due to their troubles. They were struggling to keep track of the days and of the people in the town. It seemed some of them had gone missing – but had they been killed in the nightly attacks or had they been snatched away? They couldn’t say, but they were relieved that someone had heard their plea for aid and come to their rescue.

Outside the town the adventurers began to realise that something more sinister was going on. Tracks leading from the town showed something heavy being dragged, and a tortured man was driven towards the adventurers by a group of foulspawn and their dark elf observer. This man was mad with hunger – his mouth sewn shut and his stomach missing – and he launched himself at the adventurers with a frenzy. The dark elf prowled around in the woodlands watching them as they clustered around this poor man – and after wounding Tungdil began to drag him off into the woods. Luckily for Tungdil his companions soon realised this and came to rescue him, though not before the elf had managed to drag his dying body off into the bushes.

More dark elves with their madmen were chasing a local townsman when they came upon the adventurers, and after they killed the pitiable monsters the fleeing man was able to tell them that he and some others had been snatched from their town by the dark elves and some awful thing had been experimenting on them! The dark elves just lurked in the woodland and laughed at the party, taunting them, until the dwarves chased them off with loud curses.

Across the marsh they chased them, their party in tow, until they found them with more foulspawn allies who they directed into the party and stood to watch until it was clear the foulspawn were just being slaughtered. But Tungdil wasn’t letting that pair escape a second time and he came charging after them muttering and swearing to cut them down with his envenomed axe. Making sure they were definitely dead the party crested the hill and entered the lair of the Master.

An Elderkin bid them welcome, flanked by a pair of dark elves. It seemed he was responsible for the monsters they had encountered – the people with their mouths sewn shut, starving but unable to satisfy themselves with food – though he explained his reasons behind these dreadful acts. Hunger was the root cause of many mortal problems – so why not bring about a peaceful world by removing the need to eat, therefore the problem of hunger. This humanitarian Kryganite was trying to do the world a favour if only they would listen … but the party were not in the right mood for his charming rhetoric. They attacked him and his band of dark elves, putting his experiments to the sword and trying to stop the Kryganite from continuing his work. Tungdil and Fisk were grievously wounded and as the party withdrew to reformulate a plan and tend to their wounds, the Elderkin looked over his new potential experiments with a pitying eye. Ordering one of his dark elves to try and patch up the dwarf and human, he continued to argue his case to the adventurers who were getting desperate. The dark elf picked over Tungil’s body looking for healing and was able to heal the wound, but ended up with its hands clamped over a gushing wound on Fisk that just wouldn’t stop … She showed the master the problem, lifting her hands away which caused the blood to gush up before slapping her hands over the wound. The second dwarf in the party offered himself in exchange for Tungdil, so the Elderkin agreed, healed the human and prepared to take away his prizes for further work …

But the party made one last effort to keep him away from their companions and charged at him, slaying the dark elves and chasing the Kryganite through the woodland before he gave them the slip … to get his revenge another day! Patching up their wounded, the party returned home to give their grim report.

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