Tag Archives: adventure

The Party That Saved Christmas – Part 1

It is snowing in the town of Drecshire. It creates a thin layer over freshly shoveled paths. The Conroy Taffy company building sits at the center of this busy town. Today, however, the streets are empty except for the few people who must run out to finish some errands. It is Christmas eve and the town is quiet, except of course for Conroy Taffy Company.

Inside the Conroy Taffy building, people through the halls. The phones are ringing none stop and everything is abuzz with the cacophony of frantic conversations.

On the top floor, inside a small windowless conference room sleeps a young white-feathered Aarakocra. His chair leans against the wall. His bow sits to his left and a small quiver lies to his right. He snores softly as his wings twitch occasionally but they remain snuggling his body. His worn leather armor looks dull against his plumage.

The room has bare walls except for a small black clock on the north side of the room. It ticks away quietly. Aside from the clock, there is a small rounded wooden table with the seven remaining chairs arranged neatly around it.

A small hooded figure walks into the room. A small crimsoned scaled hand carries a simple staff that reaches above the creature’s head. A red pierced tale follows suit. The Aarakocra jolts from his sleep, grabbing at his bow. The hooded figure raises his hands out in defense. “Sorry sorry, I mean no threat,” Says the hooded figure as he removes the cloak revealing a Kobold.” My name is Hox. I am here for mission. You give mission?” The Aarakrocra is stunned by the Kobold’s presence.

The Kobold is a bright crimson color. His eyes are a bright yellow. His ears are pierced and they twitch nervously as they wait for the Aarakocra to answer. On his face, odd symbols run down his cheeks almost like tears. Hox’s chest rises and falls quickly.

The Aarakocra relaxes. He puts his bow on the ground and retakes his seat. “Sorry, bud. It’s a reflex. They call me Aus. I’m here for the quest too”

“Do you know what quest is?” Hox asks, also relaxing as he takes his seat next to Aus.

Aus shakes his head as he closes his eyes and leans back against the wall. His yellow beak shines under the lights. “Not a clue”

Hox calms as he walks towards Aus. “This is strange no? We no have no information”

Aus nods “yeah but” he is cut off midsentence as the door opens once again. The two turn to the small figure at the door. A brown-skinned halfling walks in. Her raven black hair comes to just past her shoulders. She wears clothes made with the finest fabrics. Her ears are pierced with diamond earrings. A small gold necklace hangs from her neck with a tiny pendant at the end. Gold bangles hang from her arms and they jingle as they walk. She walks in with the grandeur and elegance of a noble. On her right, a rapier with a jewel-encrusted hilt bounces against her hip. On her left, nestled in her belt is a small pan flute.

She looks at the two characters who watch her curiously before saying “Good, I am not the smallest one here. My name is Euphemia Hogscallar. It is a pleasure!” She smiles as she makes her way to the two. They shake hands and introduce themselves.

“Do you have quest for us?” Hox asks. His nostrils catch a whiff of her sweet perfume. His tail wags slowly. His mouth begins to water.

“Me?” Euphemia asks curiously “I am here for the quest. I don’t know anything else. I was only told a time and place.”

“That’s odd” Aus adds. Looking at the clock on the wall. “Well I guess we keep waiting”

Not much later, the door opens one more time. This time a purple Tiefling walks in with a bewildered and startled look on her face. She has slightly darker purple ram horns that wrap around on either side of her head. She has a few piercings. Four on each ear. A small stud on the bridge of her nose. Four 4 studs go across her forehead. Her eyes are pitch black. She quickly averts her gaze away from the party.

She wears simple cotton clothes. Her shirt is sleeveless. Tribal tattoos run down both her shoulders into cloth wrappings that go from her knuckles to almost her elbow. Her shoes are worn, thin, and dirty. The number four is tattooed on the right side of her neck. “I’m” she begins softly, barely audible. “I’m he-here for the um quest.” Her voice shakes. Her eyes stare at her shoes. She rubs her right forearm nervously.

Euphemia walks up to the Tiefling. “Well, you are in the right place!” Euphemia’s voice is booming in comparison. She reaches up and grabs the Tiefling’s hand. Her hand is much smaller as it wraps around two of the fingers. She pulls the Tiefling deeper into the conference room. The Tiefling follows reluctantly.

“Well this is Aus and Hox and I,” she says letting go of the hand and turning to the Tiefling “am Euphemia. It is a pleasure to meet you! What’s your name?”

The Tiefling glows red. She averts her gaze and stares at the floor. “My…um..my name is Bel…Belyis. Nice to meet you.” Her voice is a whisper, almost inaudible.

“You’re a shy one aren’t you. Can’t say I’ve ever met a shy Tiefling before” Euphemia replies.

“Well aren’t we a strange collection of heroes. A kobold, an Aarakroca, a halfing and Tiefling. Sounds like there might be a joke in there somewhere. I can’t say I want to find out the punchline.” says Aus as he scratches his head, examining his partners.

“Trust me, as someone who tells jokes for a living. If this is a joke, it’s probably a really good one!” Euphemia says as she turns to Aus.

Before anyone could answer, the door opens. A man with dark glasses and a neatly ironed grey suit walks in. His brown skin is covered in old faded scars. He carries with him a suitcase. He pulls out a gold plane pocket watch from his pocket and checks the time. He sets down the briefcase and opens it.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. I am sure you have a lot of questions, please save them till the end. I have a lot to go over and we don’t have a lot of time. Please take a seat” The party arranges themselves around the strange man.

“You can call me Mr. Duke. I am what you might call a middle man. I contract people with special skills, such as yourselves, to fix problems and clean up messes. You have been hand-selected because you have a particular set of skills that will prove useful to us.” He pulls out a stack of folders from the briefcase. Folders thick with documents and pictures. He throws them on the table between the party. On the front of the folders is a sticker with a phoenix and the words “The Ministry for Magical Defense”

“At 0600 we received an emergency transmission from the North Pole.” Mr. Duke pulls out a crystal ball from the case and sets it gently on the table in front of the party. He taps it twice. A dim light shines around where his finger taps the glass. The ball begins to fill with thick purple smoke.

When the ball is full, an image of a bloodied dirty halfling appears. “My name is Finmin Goldwood. My team and I were sent here on a rescue mission. Santa is in trouble. Our transport was shot down at the edge of Santa’s Village. We…” Loud banging from away stops him mid-sentence. “My team is dead. The toys are alive. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s as if..”

More banging stops him mid-sentence. There is the sound of wood cracking slightly. “We tried to make our way through the city, but it’s overrun with living toys. They hunted us down” The banging gets more violent. “There might still be people held up in the workshop. Whatever this is, whoever unleashed this evil must be stopped.” More banging. The sound of wood breaking is clear. “If you get this, I am already dead. Please hurry. Save Santa.” The ball goes black and the smoke fades to nothing.

“Communications have gone dark since. Your mission is to infiltrate Santa’s village and figure out what the hell is going on. Now, this isn’t going to be easy. You are going in blind and alone. If anything goes wrong, you are on your own.”

“Um,” Aus asks as he raises his hand “what exactly are we doing?”

“It’s a rescue mission. You are there to save Santa”

The party looks at each other in confusion.

Seeing the confusion on everyone’s faces, Mr. Duke adds “Yes. Santa is rea. Set whatever you beliefs aside and focus. This is your mission. Everything you need to know… Everything we know is in those folders.” He leans up against the table and looks at the party. “So what do you say? Will you help us?”

Hox grins as his tale wages wildly behind him. “Think of all new things out there. I’ll help. Hox will help!”

Euphemia and Aus flip through the documents. Studying them carefully. Euphemia is the first to speak. “Can I have the book rights to this little venture?”

“You’ll have to change a few things and submit it for approval but as long as you don’t mention me or the Ministry of Magical Defense, there shouldn’t be an issue.” Mr. Duke replies.

Aus puts down the stacks of papers. “I don’t like this. What is the Ministry of Magical Defense? Why don’t we have more back up?”

“The Ministry of Magical Defense is a secret organization that was created to deal with world-ending threats” Mr. Duke explains.

“You’re sending us to deal with a world-ending threat?” Aus asks.

“Yes”

Aus leans back on his chair and takes a deep breath. “You’re asking for a lot. We just met you. You expect us to just drop everything and go on some suicide mission?”

Mr. Duke clears his throat. “Look, I know this is a lot to take in. I wish we had more time. I wish we could ease you in better. I wish we could send a bigger team but this is the best we can do with the time we have. It’s not going to be easy, but it needs to be done. If you want to leave, there’s the door. Just know this. This isn’t just some isolated incident. If those toys finish their business, they will spread to the rest of the world. We need to get a handle on this before it gets out of control. We did the math, you guys are the best shot we have at nipping this in the bud”

Aus’s Talons scratch at the floor. He shakes his head. “I don’t like it.” He goes silent as he thumbs through the pages “If there’s no other way. I guess you can count me in.”

“There isn’t” Mr. Duke replies. He turns to Belyis who is watching from her corner of the table. “That just leaves you”

The party turns to her too. Belyis who had returned to her natural purple color turns red again. She averts her eyes. “Um,” she says, her voice a squeak. “I don’t know. I don’t um…”

Euphemia walks up to Belyis. She looks up at her with a sweet smile. “What do you say Bel? Do you want to be part of the team?”

Belyis’s face burns with embarrassment. “Sure,” says her whisper.

Euphemia claps and giggles with glee. “Yay! We’re going to be such good friends!” She wraps her arms as much around Belyis as she can and squeezes her. Belyis’s face is frozen with fear and confusion. Her face glows red from the embarrassment.

“A strange Kobold, a loud Halfling, a shy Tiefling, and an Aarakroca walk into Santa’s Village. You’re right. This is a pretty good joke”

The Wave (2019) Review

I will say this movie isn’t for everyone. Its disorienting method of storytelling and subject matter can be off-putting. It is a movie about drug use. That said, the dizzying and disorienting trip this movie takes is worth watching at least once.

This movie plays a lot with how it tells its narrative. The scenes jump around abruptly, making it a bit disorienting to watch. It is confusing and frustrating; that is the point. It is supposed to feel like this deep crazy drug-fueled trip of self-discovery, and it works! If you have ever done hallucinogens or thought about doing them, this is a pretty solid representation.

What makes this movie work so well are the visuals and transitions. It is a very creative and interesting take on the genre. The wacky adventure is still somehow grounded and isn’t trying to be funny “The Hangover” and the clones that stem from it. Instead, it is a more serious trip of self-discovery that might end with a similar message, but the journey is a lot more interesting.

If you are in need of a weird and trippy movie, look no further. Do not be dissuaded by its odd packaging, I believe you should experience this at least once. If you have an Amazon Prime account, it is included in your subscription. If you don’t, it’s free on Vudu.

The Mad Mage Chronicles: Chapter 9

The party finds themselves in endless darkness as they walk through a tunnel that snakes with little reason. The dim light from the cursed sword guides the party. The light looks almost sicky down. It washes over hastily made scaffolds. Careful cautious footsteps propel the party through the darkness. Their hands clench at their weapons. The air is stale down here. Musty from the lack of flow. It is hard to breath in places, almost suffocating.

It seems hopeless. An endless journey down unknown darkness. The party debates on returning and giving up but they never do. They round one last bend and are greeted with strange dim light. Footsteps quicken as the source reveals another room.

The tunnel empties into a large walled room. The walls have begun to crumble, leaving scattered piles of ancient discarded brick. At the center of the room there is a statue that is buried up to its shoulders. It’s face has degraded over time making it unrecognizable.

There are clear signs of heavy traffic in this room. There are deep wheel wells that seem to flow against the same path. There are dark dirty foot prints all about the room. There are small pieces of discarded trash and food scraps that have been left behind. Whatever moves through here, does so often.

“I wonder how long we’ll be alone” Gorak asks Roakala as he studies a fresh set of foot prints. He points at them “these look fresh”

Roakala nods in agreement as the rest of the party watches curiously. “We should keep moving then” Roakala responds, taking the lead once more. There are three ways out of this room. The one they came in and two on either side of the room. Rokala takes one hesitant step forward before turning to the group “Which way princess?”

Diljaris shakes her head as a small smile begins to form at the corners of her mouth. “I’m not a princess” she says as her tail twitches “You can choose this one”

Roakala studies both exits carefully. She looks at the trails and the signs for a few minutes before she turns to Drugnar and asks “You mind flipping your coin again?”

Drugnar is visibly shocked by the question. He chuckles as he reaches for the coin. “Well don’t you know how to keep things interesting?” The coin gleams in his hand as he thumbs it between his fingers.  Heads we go left, tails we go right” Everyone nods and he flips the coin. “Heads”

The party moves through more of the ancient dungeon. The next room they arrive at is a prison. Rusted chains hang from the wall. Two cages hang from the ceiling. One still holds it’s captive, rotted and wilted to almost nothing but rags and bits of bone and dust. Against the wall lies another creature. It looks like a man. His flesh has begun to rot away in the parts where the rats haven’t nibbled at. He wears the tethers of a fine robe that now clings loosely off his body. The rusting shackles that bind him to the wall he leans against have melded with the skin on his wrist. Above the figure, in deep dark red letters there is a message that reads “Talk to me please!”

The party moves past the skeleton with the intent to move forward.

“Wait” says Drugnar as he stops near the figure “Shouldn’t we see what he wants?”

“What who wants?” Diljaris twitches her head in confusion.

“Our long departed friend here. He might have some good information” Drugnar says pointing at the corpse.

“Interesting” Diljaris says as her tail begins to wag in excitement “Can you speak with the dead”

“I sure can” Drugnar replies

“OH!” Diljaris cannot hide the excitement in her voice. “How exciting. I’ve read about this spell but I’ve never actually seen it in person.” She digs through her bag for her journal and moves close to Drugnar. Opening it to a new page, she begins jotting down notes.

Roakala turns to Gorak with a concerned look on her face. “Is this a good idea”

Gorak has already began go get comfortable. Sitting down for a moment while still keeping a careful eye in each direction. He nods at the question “It’s a thing he likes to do. It’s his duty to help lost souls find their way to the afterlife or something. He just asks some questions and then they are on their way”

Roakala steps away from Drugnar. With her sword drawn, she stands against the wall eyeing the dwarf closely.

Drugnar closes his eyes. He mumbles something incoherent before he opens his eyes. From his pocket he produces a small plain bronze tin. There are small scratches and dents all along its face. He pops it open to reveal it to be filled with black powder. “My friend” he begins as he dips the his thumb into the powder. “With this earth I tie your soul to this plane one last time.” He draws a circle on the figures forehead. His face is sunken in and his eyes are gone. “Let the earth mother bring you to us so you can see this world once more.” He underlines his sunken eyelids with thick black lines of soot. He moves to his mouth as he draws a long smile, one that reaches ear to ear. “Let the earth mother give you breath so that you may speak”

His hand moves back to the corpse’s forehead and presses his thumb against the black circle. “Spirit! Heed my call. Come forth and take your form. Earth mother, grant me the power to pull this poor soul from this darkness and help me deliver him to the light”

At first, nothing happens. The room is deathly silent. Then, a light begins to glow. First from under Drugnar’s thumb, then from the other markings. There is a light creaking sound that comes from the figure as he begins to shift and jolt in his seat. A few awkward twitches and he moves upright suddenly. The markings glow white as the figure sits up right on his own. The chains rattle as he tries to stand up. He looks around, his glowing eyes never blinking.

“Good morning my friend” Drugnar greets the man.

The figure says nothing at first. Instead he begins to inspect himself. He shakes his shackled arms. He wiggles what is left of his toes. He studies the room and the strangers that occupy it. The silence goes on for a moment before his raspy dry voice lets out  “Well shit. I died.”

Mad Mage Chronicles:Chapter 8

This story is based on the wizards of the coast adventure The Dungeon of the mad mage. There are spoilers

Source

The cave becomes familiar to the party. The dank smell of rot and decay fades away into familiarity, almost like a memory. The cracks on the wall, the deep scrapes from combats past, and the decomposing bodies that litter the ground slowly begin to morph into the landmarks of their adventure. The party continues to move in silence, but this time it feels different. It is a comfortable silence that is shared amongst comrades. The trust might not yet be there, but its threads begin to weave between each member with each step.

Roakala takes the lead with her cursed sword which emits a soft light that washes over the ancient stone. It creates soft shadows against the walls of the caverns, this time they are less menacing. This time they stroll with a more relaxed ease as they finally make it to the forest of pillars. The party stands at a familiar crosswords. To the north, a path already travelled. To the south, a clear warning of certain death. To the East, an unknown variable. The party stands in contemplation.

“Where to now princess?” Roakala asks, unable to resist the smirk that appears on her face.

Diljaris’ tail twitches in playful frustration as she instantly retorts with “I am not a princess!” She doesn’t sound annoyed. There is a certain friendliness in her tone. Diljaris looks around at her options for a moment before continuing “Well if we are looking to make money” she reviews her options one more time “I think the best chance of finding magic items might be due south” she says as she points at her option. Above the door way in freshly painted letters the warning reads “Certain death this way”

“You want us to go towards death?” Gorak chimes in

“Yes, we need money and towards death would more than likely have magic items we can sell”

“You barely made it out of the last bout with monsters, shouldn’t we prepare more before we go running towards our deaths?”

“Well my friend” Diljaris replies as she places her scaled blue hand gently on Gorak’s shounder, giving him a warm and friendly smile, “We can’t know for certain that any of the other paths will yield a less dangerous path. I would argue that we will never be ready for what we don’t know. But I don’t want you to feel pressured, no one is forcing you to go. You can leave when you like. I am here to conquer this dungeon and my gut says that that way” she says as she points south “is the first step in doing so.” She pats him gently on his shoulder and begins to step due south. “Whose with me?”

Roakala is the first to react. Her head swivels between the two members of the group before letting out a frustrated grunt “Dammit! Wait up princess.”. Roakala walks after Diljaris. She drags her feet lazily.

A heavy dwarven hand falls onto Goraks shoulder. The old worn glove smells of fresh oil. “Well boyo?” Drugnar says “You did ask for more adventure.” Drugnar chuckles as he continues after the pair. Gorak stands in place, the room growing dark as the cursed light’s reach no longer engulfs him. He sighs in frustration and begins to take steps towards the party. They pass through the door warning them of certain death.

The doorway empties into a long dark hallway. A hallway that is well travelled. The ground is littered with tracks, both young and old. There are deep overlapping footprints belonging to humanoids of varying sizes. There are animal tracks and long deep wheel imprints. There are bits of ash and burnt out torches. It is clear that despite it being marked for certain death, this path down here is a busy avenue.

The party moves cautiously over the tracks. They look eagerly towards the end of the hall, expecting a dangerous surprise. Perhaps death would be the answer to the strange nature of this corridor. Finally they arrive in a room. There are neat piles of ancient stone, earth, and ruble throughout the room. Around those, digging supplies of varying condition. There is also a small body in the room. It is slumped over against the wall. It’s leathered green skin has begun to rot. There are signs that rats have begun to nibble on it’s body. An ear is missing and the body sits on what is left of a pool of blood that seems to have dried long ago. There is no way of knowing when the body died except that the belly has bloated.

Rakala examines the body carefully.  “Well” she says as she ponders the goblins visage “whatever killed the goblin took anything valuable.” The party searches the room for valuables and clues as to what might be in the next room; but all they find are the discarded tools and deep footprints leading in and out of this room.  There is another exit to this room. One that has been freshly and hastily made. This doesn’t share the workmanship of the caverns they have already travelled. This was made by new hands. Hands that don’t hold the same attention to detail as the original carvers of this earth, but somehow still talented enough to create a new passage way.

Roakala looks into this fresh wound. The cursed light washes over the freshly dug rock. The light reveals the madness of the new architect. It bends and turns with lack of reason, although the function stands up right with the support of new shabbily cut wood. The new path is ugly and it sews distrust in the party. Diljaris steps up and touches the wall. Examines it for a moment.

Gorak comes forth and gets close to the ground, touching one of the deep wheel wells. “Well if there is any treasure, it seems to be moving through here.”

“Agreed” Diljaris replies finally looking away from the stone “Whoever made this is using it to transfer something pretty important.”

Gorak nods “But the question is who’s using this tunnel and what are they carrying?”

“The real question is do we want to deal with whatever made this thing?” Roakala chimes in, pointing at the corpse of the dead goblin.

“I mean” Diljaris answers with her bright warm smile “We did come down here for some adventure”

The Mad Mage Chronicles: Chapter 7

A new party and a task at hand

This story is part of a larger series based on the published adventure The Dungeon of the Mad Mage. There are spoilers.

When the party emerges from the dark and dank underbelly, the yawning portal is alive with music and drunken singing. There is an overwhelming air of celebration that seems to teeter around the room, floating along with the clouds of cigar smoke. They inch through the crowd slowly as the clusters of drunkards make movement difficult. Eventually they find a table, at the center of the cackling crowded chaos. A bar maid makes her way to the tired group who order food and a round of drinks. 

Food and drink arrives that the table. Roakala rests her head between her arms. Diljaris has settled in her area with books and journals neatly surrounding her. Drugnar and Gorak polish their weapons. “So what do we do now princess?” Gorak asks Diljaris who scribbles furiously in her journal. Food and drink comes. The barmaid places six large bowls of rice and curry at the center of the table. Next to the plates of food, she places two large pitcher of ale. Foam spills over the side, creating a small ring around the base of the pitcher. The barmaid leaves 5 full flagons of ale. Drugnar tips the waitress a silver. The barmaid surprised by the generosity winks and says “Let me know if y’all need anything else. Im closing out this place.” She places the coin gingerly in her pocket as she almost skips with joy away from the party.

Diljaris without looking up from her work “I am not a princess”. She continues to scribble until finally she looks up and replies “We need to find work”

“I thought you had work?” Gorak replies

“No, I was looking for a party to find work with. Now that I have a party, we need to find work. I think we should start with the barkeep, he might have some leads”

Drugnar stands up “Shall we?” he says as he motions towards the bar

“Of course” Diljaris responds.

“I’m good” Gorak responds as he takes a long swig from the flagon. Roakala is too busy eating to respond. The two move towards the crowd, pushing their way through the crowd.

The two make it to the bar. Gorak pushes a pair of patrons aside to make room for them. The barkeep moves around them, quickly haning out filled flagons until finally he stops in front of the two. “What are ya havin?”He puts an old dirty towel over his right shoulder. His beard is freshly trimmed. His apron is also clean and neat.

Drugnar clears his throat and starts “First I would like to commend you on running such a fine establishment. I have been to many taverns in my long Drwarven lifetime but this has to be one of the best. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Drugnar Stormhammer and my scaly associate here is Diljaris Eshbis. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now before we waste any more of your precious time, we would like to inquire on any business opportunities you might have or know about for a group of brave and capable adventurers”

The large burly man sighs “If you want work, go ask Obaya. He’s sitting over there. He’s always looking for adventurers. Now are you gunna buy something or not? I’m kind of busy”

“Yes can I get a flagon of your finest ale?” Drugnar asks smiling widely.

The barkeep pulls out a small barrel from under the bar. He fills a clear glass flagon to the rim with a golden clear ale. He places it on the bar as the foam settles. “Anything else?” the barkeep asks with clear dred in his voice.

“No you have been very helpful. We appreciate the information. Thank you” Drugnar replies as he slides a gold coin towards the bar keep. The barkeep is stunned by the sudden act of generosity. “Come back whenever you need anything you hear”

Obaya is a black human male whose permanent resident is at the nicest booth in the yawning portal. Today he is surrounded by a group of laughing nicely dressed individuals. Obaya himself is adorned with the finest silk robes that have been hand stitched to specifically fit his frame. His finely ordained hat hides his wavy locks that shine when they manage to escape and touch the light. His golden brown eyes search the bar as he weaves together the tales that seem to always have his company in an uproar.

As the two walk towards Obaya. Obaya takes notice but doesn’t break from conversation. When they get within earshot, Obaya grin with genuine warmth, greets the pair “You look like you have a question for old Obaya. What can I do for you my friends?”

Drugnar steps forward “Good evening Mr. Obaya, we only want a moment of your time. My name is Drugnar Stormhamer and my beautiful scaly friend here is Diljaris Eshbish. We are travelling with a group of very capable adventurers and we hear you have a bit of work for dungeon delving folk like us”

“Well my well spoken friend, I am a travelling merchant and I deal in the strange and the magical. If you can bring me any magic items or spell books, I’ll take it off your hands for a bit of coin”

“Hi” Diljaris finally speaks up “how much do you pay for each magic item?”

“10 platinum per magic item. More if depending on how rare it is. How’s that sound?”

The two are taken aback by Obaya’s words.  They are clearly dazed by the reply. They remain silent as time continues.  “Well?” Obaya asks again, still smiling patiently.

“Well Mr. Obaya, it looks like you have yourself a deal. We look forward to doing business with such a generous patron” Drugnar finally responds as he extends his hand out towards Obaya.

Obaya laughs loudly and his guests join in. “You flatter me Drugnar but no need to be so formal. I am just a regular guy. Please, just Obaya is fine.” He stands up and extends both hands out “I look forward to working with you too as well.” They shake hands. Obaya smiles warmly. “Oh but you have to promise me one thing.”

“And that is?” Diljaris asks

“Don’t go dying on my account please”

The two laugh “We can assure you, you there won’t be any dying from us, I’ve brought together a very capable group” Diljaris replies. The two turn and make their way back to the table. Guidy with excitement at the possible prospects they were just promised.

Back at the table, Roakala and Groroak eat and drink in silence. Roakala continues to scarf down a bowl of food. One lies empty in front of her. Gorak drinks in silence, lost in thought. When Diljaris and Drognar come back, they don’t notice, but instead seem lost in food and drink.

“Good news!” Diljaris addresses the table, breaking their concentration “our wise Drugnar was able to find us work”

“What’s the job?” Gorak asks, putting down his flagon of ale.

“There’s a man in here that buys magic items, 10 platinum a piece. This dungeon has to be loaded with magical items” Drugnar adds.

“Yeah but how often do you think we’ll be finding magic items?” Gorak asks, sounding a bit skeptical.

“Well we did find a magic sword on our first trip down” Diljaris reminds Gorak.

Yeah don’t forget about Janice” Roakala adds, breaking her silence. She places the magic sword in the table. It glows faintly even under the candle light. The two empty bowls resonate from the impact.

“Isn’t it cursed?” Gorak reminds the group.

Roakala shrugs her shoulders “It still counts as magic”

“Maybe we should sell the sword” Gorak says as his hand slowly moves towards the blade.

Roakala snatches the blade off the table, almost knocking over bowls of food and the half empty pitchers of ale. “Janice is not for sale, she’s going with us!” She says sternly, her posture tenses as she gets ready to pounce at whoever dares reach for her sword.

“No need for any of that” Diljaris chimes in “No one is selling your sword Roakala. Settle down.” She puts her hand gingerly on the Orc’s shoulder. Roakala glares at Diljaris. Her eyes still filled with some rage but her breathing seems to slow and her posture relaxes as she finally slinks back down into her seat. “Fine” is all she says as she grabs a third bowl and continues to eat, this time slowly as she continues to eye Gorak.

A woman’s voice interrupts Gorak as he seems to move to continue to tease the Orc.  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I hear you are looking for work?”

“Yes of course!” Diljaris says as she turns to face the owner of the voice. The woman is a finely dressed in new and clean robes. Around her neck is a golden necklace of a robin diving into a sea made from a blue sapphire. She is a tall and slender woman and her beauty makes it difficult to decern her age. She appears to be in her twenties. Her dirty golden curls seem to be meticulously placed down to her shoulders. She stares back at the party with eyes as blue as the emerald that hangs around her neck.

“My name is Esvele Rosznar of house Roszar and I am looking for my brother Kressado. He went missing a few weeks ago. I have asked countless adventurers for help but I haven’t heard word of his whereabouts”

“What does your brother look like?”

“He is a slender man. He is 22 years old and has dirty blond curls that go to his shoulders. He wears a platinum ring with our family crest” Esyele pulls her necklace towards the group. “It’s also engraved with our family motto. Fly high and swoop swift”

Diljaris scribbles furiously even leaving and quick but recognizable sketch of the Roszar family crest. “Is he an adventurer too?”

“Well?” Esyele begins. Her face turns red as she looks down at the ground “He isn’t an adventurer. He’s been in some trouble. He is a good guy, he is just a little misguided”

“What does that mean?” Gorak says as he places his flagon on the table.

“He got mixed in with the Xanathar Guild and that has gotten him in a bit of trouble. Last I heard he was going down into the dungeon for some job but he never told me details”

“What’s the Xanathar guild?” Gorak continues to interrogate the woman.
 

Esyele doesn’t raise her eyes. She remains silent for a second before slowly letting out “They are the crime syndicate that runs this town. Larceny, murder, prostitution, drugs, all things illegal run through them. My brother was a thief for them” she pauses for a moment as she studies the reactions of the party and ponders he explanation  “My brother is a thief. Unfortunately he is a great thief and has now been unfortunately bound to the service of the Xanathar guild. I’ve tried my hardest to convince him to leave but he is also a stubborn man who likes to live dangerously. He is a good man non the less. He’s disappeared before, but it’s never been for this long. I just want to know if he is ok. Will you help me?” This time she looks up. Her voice cracks and she is clearly fighting back tears.

“How much?” Roakala asks as she leans forward, picking at her teeth.

“Well?” her voice still cracks and a small tear starts to roll down her cheek. “I will be ever so indebted to you and your group. My family is incredibly influential and having me as an ally will be incredibly beneficial”

Before the party has a chance to react, Diljaris moves towards the woman and places her hand on her shoulder. She looks down at the woman with a wide smile. Her tail wags her golden eyes seem to glow with a spark of excitement. “You can count on us. We’ll find your brother”

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH6

The Fight at the End of the Hall

This story is part of a larger series based on the published adventure “Waterdeep: Dungeon of the Mad Mage”. There will be spoilers.

Source

The party continues through dark desolate passages of ancient dirty stone. Black soot and long deep scratches cover these tunnels. They record the history of the dungeon. The party steps over pools of dried blood and broken decomposing bodies. The further them move in, the mustier and warmer it gets. Drips of water can be heard somewhere in the darkness. Roakala leads the party with the dim glow of her new blade guiding her. She eyes for danger with each cautious step she makes. She steps on a piece of discarded bone, it shatters under her wait but she seems to take little notice. Instead, she moves forward until she enters a small room.

Here is where the tunnel ends. A room etched at the end of the hall. A room full of the remains of failed adventurers. Bodies, both whole or in pieces, are scattered in small piles. Those with flesh intact rot away slowly in the darkness. Those who aren’t have long since become bone and are now lost here forever. Roakala pauses for a moment, her eyes trying to make sense of the scene before her but her eyes begin to water from the foul odor that assaults her nostrils. The party moves in carefully, each scanning the room for dangers or valuables. As the party makes its way around the room, carefully trying to stay close to one another, two piles of discarded flesh begin to move. From them sprout large floating flesh creatures with bodies like brains and beaks for mouths. Attached to each are long tentacles that wave wildly below them. They raise with loud deafening screeches.

Source

“What the fuck is that?” Roakala lets out as she moves her sword and shield into position.

“They’re Grell. Watch out for their tenticles, they’re poisones” Diljaris replies.

Before she can say anymore, the Grell is on top of her. Its skin slimy and full of discolored ridgels. It swipes at her with its long heavy tentacles. The force of the impact knocks the breath out of her. The tentacles wrap around her tightly and begin to carry her off. She coughs and gasps as she struggles to breath. The monster pulls her to its mouth and takes a nip at her with its sharp beak. She screams in agony as the beak tears into her flesh, ripping through her robe. Warm blood begins to seep down her shoulder. The monster turns and begins to take her away.

Roakala takes a step to help her the young dragonborn, but her path is blocked by the other Grell whose tentacles flare angrily and its beak snarls violently. Tentacles snap towards the Orc like whips, but Roakala’s instincts kick in as she doges and blocks the incoming flurry. She quickly closes the gap between her and the Grell who now faces her. Its eyeless face turns to her and takes a large nip at her side but instead of the soft Orcish flesh it excepted, its mouth bangs against the cold metal face of her shied. The force of the impact shakes Roakala to her core. It forces her to step back as her arm shakes under the weight of the monster’s attack but she stands strong. Sweat begins to form on her brow as she attempts to create an opening for her blade.

Diljaris begins to regain her breath as the shock from the blow begins to wear off. She begins to catch her breath. The grip on her body tightens as the slimy grey tentacles squeeze at her side. With the little breath she is able to mumble in an ancient tongue. Her eyes begin to glow blue. Her fingers spark with a bright blue flame. Where her burning hands she shimmies to touch the beast. Its skin begins to sizzle under the heat of the magical flame. A sudden burst of blue fire leaps from her hands, singing the creature. It screeches in pain and drops her to the ground. Diljaris lands in a loud and painful thug, once again knocking the breath from her lands. With the little strength she is able to muster, she stands up slowly. She takes wobbled labored steps away from the beast as the smoke and scent of burning flesh surrounds her.

Drugnar watches the dragonborn get swooped up and dragged away, he takes a step before the monster is able to make it far. He watches as the dragon born drops to the ground and struggles to make her escape. He moves as his legs can take him. Each step landing with heavy metaled determination. His right hand reaches for the pendant around his neck. Another gold coin hidden under his armor. This one houses the image of a beautiful woman carefully carved on its face. Drugnar moves himself between the monster and Diljaris and reaches out to touch his wounded ally.

“Sune lend me your light. Protect this creature as your own. Give her the strength to move forward. To continue to see the beauty of this world.”

There is a moment of silence as the two continue to move slowly. Suddenly, the coin in his hand begins to glow softly. The light spills through the cracks between his fingers. His left hand begins to glow warmly over Diljaris’s blue scales. Her steps begin to quicken as she appears to have newfound strength to move her forward. She no longer clutches at ther ribs, but moves quickly to make distance between her and the Grell. “Thanks” she expresses the two move away from the assailant.

An arrow flies by them from the darkness. It wisps by Drugnar’s head and connects with the floating monstrosity. Gorak stands at the other end, loading a second arrow onto his bow. He squints into the darkness, takes a breath and fires. The second arrow whiles through the air, piercing into the cold grey flesh. Drops of blood spray out, splashing against the filthy dungeon floor. A small river of blood starts to make its way down the shaft of the arrow. The Grell begins a hastened retreat. Blood drips bellow it, creating a trail in it’s wake.

On the other side, the second Grell is still locked in combat with Roakala. It snarls and flails against the orcs shield. The Grell makes quick swipes against the orc who has no choice but to move back and look for an opening. The Grell continues to make careless attacks, landing in loud cold slaps against the floor of the dungeon. Roakala dodges them, using the momentum of her movement to quickly close the gap between her and the monster. Before the Grell has a chance to react, Roakala is near the beast. She takes a strong confident swipe at the monster. The blade slices through the skin, leaving behind a deep gushing would and pain. In its desperation, the Grell takes swipe at the orc, but Roakala proves too fast. Instincts kick in and the blade comes down against the assailing tentacle. The blade swipes through easily. It’s soft glow momentarily obscured by the blood that slowly drips down its face. A large half of tentacle drops on the floor besides her. It flails uselessly without it’s body until finally, the last bit of life it held fades away into the darkness surrounding it. The Grell turns to run. It begins to float away in fear leaving itself open to Roakala’s third attack. The blade swipes quickly towards the retreating beast, slicing into unsuspecting flesh. It screeches in undeniable agony as it hastens it’s retreat.

Diljaris now stands more confidently, although her hands still shake. She closes her eyes, takes a long calming breath as she begins to recite the ancient words that fill the pages of her book. Her tail wages in a circle, her hands flail above her head. Her eyes glow blue as flames erupt from her hands. She goes silent as her eyes glare down the retreating monsters. ‘With this flame, I purge you from this world”. The flames launch from her hands, landing and creating a large explosion that engulfs the two Grell. The room fills with blinding light. When the fire fades and the room dim, the two Grell are left blackened and still burning. They float away weakly, their tentacles no longer flailing but instead left singed and curled against their scared bodies.

Drugnar takes advantage of the situation. With holy coin in hand he begins to say “Sune, mistress of beauty, show these beasts your light!” A flash of light chases down the farthest Grell. Instinct kicks in and the Grell moves out of the way. The soft glow of the spell reveals the battered beast and its desperation. It crashes against the wall. Small bits of it crumble to the floor as the Grell passes by, still in its attempt to escape. An arrow whiles into its back. This time instinct fails the creature. The arrow digs itself deep into the Grell’s body. Large spouts of blood poor from it. It falls from the air and squirms as it’s last ounce of life escapes it.

Gorak turns his head to the last remaining Grell who continues to burn and move through the darkness. His eyes squint as he takes careful aim. The arrow finds its place in burnt flesh. Agony and terror echo inside the last desperate squeals of the retreating Grell. In its desperation, it never noticed Roakala closing the distance until her cold glowing blade sunk deep into its flesh. Blood pours out of the wound and washes over Roakala’s hands as she uses all her strength to continue to cut the beast. The Grell grows heavy on her blade as blood as entrails begin to spill from the new wound. She takes the blade out, the blood drips over the runes making them illegable. The Grell drops heavily on the ground, lifeless.

The party stands in silence, still weary of danger, still searching for hostiles.

“Good news guys” Diljaris finally says, breaking the tense silence “You passed the test. Congratulations”

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH5

This is part of a larger series based on the published Wizard of the Coast Adventure “The Dungeon of the Mad Mage” Spoiler warning.

They exit into a dark silent cavern. Water slowly drips in the distance. The light from Goraks torch begins to spill out, filling the darkness, stretching out in every direction . Their footsteps echo off the cavern walls. Roakala takes the lead, her hand at the hilt as she scans through the darkness diligently. Behind her, Diljaris and Drugnar follow side by side. Both eyeing into the darkness, searching for unknown danger. Gorak follows behind the party, torch in hand. It’s flames licking at his face. There is an awkward silence that they carry between them as they make their first decent into the dungeon.

The cavern opens up and they enter a large room filled with long standing pillars. The pillars are scattered randomly throughout the large cavern, there seems to be little rhyme or reason to their placement. The light from the torch flickers over the pillars revealing distorted faces. On closer inspection, they appear to be horned demons of sorts. Diljaris moves her fingers over one of the pillars, feeling at its features. She turns to Drugnar who slowly steps towards her and asks “any ideas what these could be?”

Drugnar brushes his beard with his hand. He appears to be in deep thought. Roakala and Gorak don’t share this fascination of the pillars and move around carefully, searching for anything of value. Drugnar finally breaks the silence “they look like demons of sorts.” His voice is full of confidence.

” I could have told you that, but which one is it?”Diljaris says as she takes her notebook out and begins taking notes.

Drugnar shrugs “Who knows? I am only familiar with the Dwarven gods” Diljaris makes an imprint on a sheet of parchment that she stows away carefully in her bag. “Well let’s press on shall we?” she says, her eyes moving between the pillars.

Still within the large room, between the pillars they stand together. The light of the flame stretching in each direction revealing four exits. The one they came from due east and the rest stairways heading in the remaining cardinal directions. Roakala begins to search the room closely, her face almost kissing the floor as she stops and searches certain spots on the floor. She stops before the southern stairs, above it sprawled in dark red paint are the words “Certain death this way”. She continues her search.

“What is she doing?” Gorak whispers as the party watches the orc move around the room. They shrug before Roakala replies “I am looking for clues on where to go”

Gorak raises an eyebrow “Um, what did you find?”

“It’s hard to say, it all looks humanoid. No monsters” She finally stops and looks towards the group “But I vote we don’t go towards the warning.

“I can get behind that” Durgnar agrees as he pats his belly.

“Alright then orc, where does your investigation say we should go?” Gorak asks mokingly.

Roakala shrugs and shakes her head. “I was’t investigating for a way to go, I was looking for danger”

“Ok we aren’t doing this” Diljaris interupts “where should we go?”

Drugnar begins to dig through his pocket and pulls out a large silver coin. On it’s face the silhouette of a bearded dwarf. On it’s back, a hammer and anvil. “I have an idea” he says as he begins to show his coin to the party. “Why don’t we flip a coin. This has never steered me wrong before”

Gorak doesn’t flinch and seems accepting of the Dwarfs suggestion. The two remaining think for a moment before Diljaris finally says “Leaving the first trial to chance? There is something quite poetic about that. Flip away friend!”

“I haven’t read too much poetry, but I guess it’ll do” Roakala adds.

“It’s settled then. Heads we go north, heads we go west” and with that he flips the coin in the air. They watch as the coin floats up in the air, turning quickly to it’s own rhythm before crashing down on the floor with a soft bounce. The silhouette stares back at the party. “North it is!”

The party nods in agreement and they move north. Roakala leads the way, slinking expertly through the darkness. She listens for the sounds danger but hears none.  Suddenly, they hear the faint sounds of a distant incoherent echoes. They approach more carefully. Hands grip tightly around weapons as the breathing slows. These echoes lead to a small room. The room is empty except for a swords buried into an wooden armor statue of a faceless man. The statue has begun to rot but the sword looks freshly forged. Etched into its steel face are neatly written runes from some unknown language. Tat it’s hilt, boney rotting fingers cling onto it.  “Any ideas what’s up with this?” Roakala says, her hands moving towards the blade’s hilt. The echoes begin again but there doesn’t seem to be a source.

As Roakala’s dirty gloved hands wrap around the hilt of the blade. The skeletal hand drops to the floor and shatters into pieces. Before anyone has time to react, she grabs it tightly and pulls it from its resting place. Diljaris is startled by the sight and rushes carefully towards the orc. “Wait, it could be trapped!’ she says with her voice full of worry.

Roakala shrugs as she swings the blade around. “Feels fine to me”

“Well” Diljaris responds, a look of worry on her face “Give it here and allow me to examine it for a moment.”

Roakala thinks for a moment and reaches to hand over the blade before retreating it back “Can you do it without holding it?”

“It’ll only be for a moment, I will give it right back.” Diljaris says still worried.

“Ok but I’ll hold it” Roakala continues insistingly.

Diljaris rolls her eyes and gives in. “Fine, if you must” Her eyes start to glow a soft white. She hovers her hands over the blade as they begin to glow in the same shade. Her tail wags back and forth slowly as she whispers in droconic.  The runes on the blade glow as they respond to the ritual. This goes on for some time as the party watches in awe of what is occurring before them.

Finally, Diljarus goes silent. The light in her  eyes and hands fade. She looks at the party, clearly at a loss for words. She struggles to speak but finally is able to let out “This isn’t great but it’s not terrible”

“What is it?” Roakala asks, beginning to sound concerned.

“Well” Diljaris begins, struggling to find the right words “It looks like you have a cursed sword in your hands. For as long as you are cursed, you aren’t able to part with it”

“That’s not so bad. This is better than my old one, and she speaks Orcish”

“It speaks?” Diljaris asks looking concerned.

“Yes, Orkish”

“What does it say?”

“Oh she just wants to come along for the adventure. She will even shine a light for us. Good news for you ey human” Roakala adds, turning towards Gorak with a sly smirk.

“If you say so” Gorak answers eying the orc suspiciously “Does it tell you to do stuff”

Roakala shakes her head “Except for asking if she could come along, Janice isn’t really making any demands.

“An Orcish speaking sword named Janice? Not bad for a first adventure is it boyo?” Drugnar says as he nudges Gorak.

Gorak with his eyes still fixed on the dimly glowing sword shrugs “Does Janice need to prove herself too?”

“It’s only fair” Diljaris repplies, giggling.

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH4

Breakfast With a Plan

This story is part of a longer series based on the published adventure “The Dungeon of the Mad Mage”

The bar is silent at sunrise. It is a also a mess with tables flipped to their side, a thick layer of sticky smelly mud coats the floor, and a young tired man lazily sweeps up the bits of broken glass scattered throughout.  A few patrons sleep off the night of drinking, slumped over on the floor or over a table. They snore loudly as the few disgruntled looking employees carefully clean around them. It’s quite a sight to see The Yawning Portal in it’s tranquil state.

Diljaris and Roakala are the first to come down. Diljaris in her usual chipper deadener gleefully galops down the steps while Roakala slinks behind her slowly. Her eyes half closed in her exhaustion. Her feet drag over the wooden boards. They sit at a table and Diljaris orders breakfast as Roakala’s slumps over the table and hides her face in her arms. “Why so early? We are the only people up this early” she says in a tone muffled by her current position.

“Well my dear” Diljaris responds as she begins setting up her workplace “We have a lot of dungeon to uncover and we are really behind.” She begis to neatly place before her books and journals and pens. Each placed neatly in their designated location.

Roakala raises her head slightly, her chin still touching the table. “I’m just here for the money, is there a way I can just join up with you later”

Diljaris smiles “So your intention is to join then?”

“That’s not what I meant” Roakala hides her face in her arms again.

“I need to see how well you do in combat before we can properly talk about you joining my group” Diljaris says as she studies her half conscious partner.

There is no response from Roakala except some heavy breathing.

A few minutes pass before Drungar and Gorak come down. “Good morning! I hope we haven’t been keeping you waiting long” Drugnar says extatically, his voice filling the room.

Diljaris who had been busy writing responds “I wouldn’t make tardiness a regular thing but it’s fine. Please join us eat we will depart after breakfast.” Before her, the table has already been set with a small feast of eggs bacon and toast.

The two men sit down at the table, filling their plates with the assortment of food. Gorak points to Roakala “What’s wrong with her?”

Without lifting her head Roakala lets out a muffled response. “It’s too early” is what the party can make out.

They begin to eat breakfast in silence. Diljaris writes in her journal, taking small nibbles here and there. Eventually Roakala lifts her head and eats from a plate Diljaris set aside for her. “So” Roakala begins, her mouth still full of food “you got a plan princess?’ Bits of egg  spray out from her mouth to the table.

Diljaris looks at the bits of discarded egg with disgust. “I am not a princess!” she responds, sounding a bit annoyed. “Of course I have a plan”

“Are you gunna share it with us or is this a you thing?” Gorak chimes in.

“Oh you meant for today. Well we are going to go down into the dungeon and find a few monsters to fight. I want to see how compatible we are as a group.”

“How much are you paying us for that?” Roakala asks.

“Well if we find anything while we are down there, we’ll split it evenly. Remember, I have yet decided on your membership status”

“This is a lot of danger for a test princess. I think it’s fair that we get a bit of compensation. Maybe some collateral in case you don’t make it back.” Roakala adds, reaching to get more eggs.

“Well I did pay for your meals and lodging and I did save you from that mob you incited. I think I’ve compensated you plenty”

Roakala looks at her plate full of eggs, thinking for a moment before letting out “I could have taken ’em”

“Well” Diljaris says smiling “There shouldn’t be much danger for someone of your skill set. If what you say is true that is.”

“Hey” Roakala responds, slightly agitated “You don’t have to worry about me. I ain’t just talk.” There is a moment of silence as the three stare at the half-orc who wears a pugnacious look on her face. The scents of breakfast fill her flared nostrils. She seems to calm and sighs “All I am saying, moving forward, Ima need more than just breakfast.”

There is a small lift that has been built against the old well at the center of the bar. It is made from a small system of pulleys that attach to a wooden platform big enough to hold a small party of adventurers. The party finds itself in front of its sleeping operator. He is a older man with grayed mangled hair and an untrimmed beard and an untidy appearance. He sleeps soundly leaning against tower wall.

“Excuse me sir?” Diljaris says as he pokes the man gently. He jumps suddenly, staring back at the party who now surrounds him. It takes him a moment to regain full consciousness before finally asking “What do you want?!”

“We would like to go down, can you please give us a lift?”

“1 gold each” he grumbles.

“1 gold? You have to be kidding me? What if we take the ladder?” Gorak points to an old dirty ladder that goes down the side of the wall.

“It’s a gold either way. Are you going or not?” the man snaps as he stares down the party.

“Can we give you 2 gold and take the stairs?” Drugnar asks as he starts counting coins in his purse.

“Look I don’t make the rules. I just sit here and charge the fee. If you have an issue, take it up with Durnan. Pay up or leave” The man was clearly in a foul mood.

The party looks at each other with undecided looks in their eyes. Roakala is clearly angered by the man’s disposition. Her first ball up tightly as she takes a step towards the man, but before she could say a word, Diljaris interjects “Alright that’s fair” She pulls out her coin purse “4 gold it is.” Diljaris hands over the four gold and places the purse back in her pocket. “But we would like to use the lift”

“Yeah yeah, hurry up. Hop on” The man says, putting the coins in his pocket.

The party squeezes into the small wooden platform. The wood is worn and dirty. The wood creeks as it bears the weight of the party. Despite it’s rugged appearance, the lift is well built.  The man begins to work the pully and the party begins its slow initial decent into the dungeon bellow. The darkness begins to hug them as the echoes of their decent bounce about the stone creating the a mountainous melody of their first adventure. They watch as the bar moves farther and father away until it is a small skylight. They land on the soft murky sand with a jolting thud. Gorak lights a torch. The light washes over the darkened walls revealing an explosion of colorful graffiti. Here the, names and words written in all the languages come together to form the story of the countless adventurers that have walked over this sand and through the old wooden doors. Confined in this small room, isolated from everything the party stands in admiration and excitement as boots crunch into the dirty sand. Fingers trace against the crumbling colored stone while Roakala digs through the pills of discarded refuse.

Her old glove digs through. Her fingers stop as they touch something hard. She pulls out a dirty clumping ball, perhaps something ceramic? She wipes it on her tunic, spitting on it every so often. The sand and mug begin to fade under her diligence, revealing an ivory colored orb. On closer inspection, she makes out a blackened iris. Staring back at her, a finely made glass eye sits on her hand.

“What did you find?” Drugnar asks as he moves towards the orc.

Roakala turns the iris so that it stares back at the dwarf. “Looks like someone is walking around with half their eyes.” She chuckles as she palms the eye and places it gingerly in her pocket. “What do we do now?”

The party looks at each other as the echoes of the lift returning to the top encapsulates them. They turn to the door. It seems out of place within its place on the wall. Surrounded by old dirty stone sits a freshly stained door on new hinges. A minute goes by before Drugnar finally breaks the silence. “I guess let’s see what’s behind door number 1.”

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH1

A Dragonborn’s Listing

This story is based on the Wizards of the Coast published adventure “Waterdeep: Dungeon of the Mad Mage” and there will be spoilers.

They say that the city of Waterdeep has no permanent residents. That the people here just pass through on their journey to greatness. That it’s population is made up of this revolving and refreshing supply of adventurers and those who make money off of them. I have lived here my whole life, and there are others who have too. Although this lawless town seems to be a step for many, it is a home for a lot of us. Some say it is this place’s curse that keeps us here, trapped within the city limits. They say that it is the madness that was left behind from a different time that is embedded in the roots in this town. A madness that we are born with but that those who come to visit catch like some common contagion. A contagion that has slowly spread throughout the world and now it draws them all in, from all walks of life, from all parts of this miserable world. The magical curiosity to see what really lies bellow the Yawning Portal.

The Yawning Portal is a bar built on top of the ruins of an old mage tower. It is the only entrance we have to the dungeon bellow it. Most people who come flock to this quaint bar built on ancient stone searching for something. They say that deep below the dungeon are rooms filled to the rim with boundless treasure. They say that down below, in the farthest reach of the tower is a great library that houses the knowledge of everything including true power. Some people come to make money, to line their coffers with gold so they can ride into the sunset and live like royalty. Other’s pass through those doors expecting to come out the other side with the power of gods. And yet other’s come here for the thrill of the adventure.

But this town isn’t a forgiving one, and that dungeon even less so. It chips away at the hope and spirit of those who dare descend into its darkness. Some never lose the allure, and continue to make the trek day after day. Others return frightened and broken, treading their sword for a ride home, never to return. Others never return and their bodies rot away in the darkness, alone until another group of adventurers or beats stumble over them. It takes a special kind of crazy to venture into the dungeon. It takes a special kind of insane to keep going after the fact. Maybe the madness is contagious and there really is no treasure down there, just the side effect of delusion.

But this story isn’t about the city, it’s curse, or the countless adventurers this city eats up. This story is about the few who descended to the deepest parts of the tower and conquered it all. 

It is around noon when Dilrajis Eshbis, a blue Dragonborn, walks into the bar. The double doors screech loudly as they swing wildly behind her. The bar is mostly empty except for a few people  who are too busy with their drink to look up. She looks onto the random assorted tables and benches that orbit the large well that sits at the center of it all. The remnants of an old wizards’ tower and the entrance to the dungeon. She looks onto a bar where a lone large burly man is busy cleaning glassware. Behind him sit neat stacks of large barrels, a couple with spouts sticking out of them.

 As she looks into the bar, she notices that some people clean the tables. At the center of the bar there is a large well that sticks out of the ground. A large winch is propped up beside it, holding a wooden platform over the whole. There is a large bar across from her, lined with bottles made from different colored glass collecting dust over the large wooden barrels stacked neatly behind a burly man who slowly cleans at a glass. Above those are shelves lined with glass bottles made from glass of assorted colors.

Dilrajis pulls back her hood revealing bright blue and green scales that seem to shine even in the dimly lit bar. Her bright yellow eyes turn to a large wall covered in sheets of yellowing paper. She takes a deep breath, her nostrils filling with the thick stale scent of ale and old tobacco, and takes a step towards the wall covered in paper. She clutches at a piece of parchment in her left hand. In her right hand she holds a long staff plane staff that lands beside her in rhythm with her steps. She stops in front of the board and reads over the different posters. She glances over wanted signs and advertisements until she stops at a point near the center of the board. She ponders for a second before placing the staff gently against the wall and carefully pins her piece of parchment on the wall. In neat calligraphy the page reads:

Adventurers wanted. Only the best will do. Searching for a group of likeminded and strong individuals who want to conquer the dungeon. If you are interested, ask for Dilrajis Eshbis.

She studies the page with a smile on her face. Her tail wags in the air. She seems to linger on it’s message for a few minutes before she picks up the staff and walks towards the bar. She walks up to the man behind the bar who is still busy cleaning a mug.  He has a long neat greying beard. His hair is put back in a tight and messy ponytail.  A few strands of hair poke out. He stands a bit shorter than the dragonborn. He doesn’t look up when she approaches but continues to clean the glass he is holding.

She places her hands on the bar and sits on the stool. Her hands stick to the counter. She lifts her hands from the bar’s surface and rubs her fingers together, trying to get the mysterious substance that now coats the surface of her hand. For a brief moment, a look of slight disgust creeps over her smile, but she composes herself and the smile returns. She clears her voice and with a clear and confident voice she says “Excuse me, Hi. Yes. My name is Dilrajis Eshis, it is a pleasure”

Dilrajis extends her hand towards the barkeep. The barkeep stares at the blue extended hand and continues to clean the glass in his hand before he lets out “Can I help you with something”

“Well” Dilrajis responds as she awkwardly puts her hand away “I would like to admit I am a big fan of this place. I have come from far away to take care of the little problem you have in the basement” she says as lets out a laugh. The barkeep is no longer looking towards her but continues to clean through the box of mugs that sits in front of him. “Maybe you can help me with something, I want to start a powerful adventuring party. Do you know anyone that is looking to join one?”

“Look kid, this ain’t that kind of place. If you want a party, you gotta find one yourself. I serve food and drink” he says, picking up another mug to clean.

“Ok, that’s fair. Well if anyone asks about my poster, I will be over there” she says as she points to a table in the corner.

“That’s paying customers only, you can buy something to drink or you can fuck off”

Dilrajis nods her head in agreement as she takes out a small leather pouch and starts riffling through it’s contents. The sound of clanking coins fills the bar. She pulls out a silver piece and responds “I will have a drink and a bowl of food please.” She places the coin on the bar table. She takes out another silver coin and places it on the table “and this is so you don’t forget to send any proposing adventurer my way.”

The barkeep grabs the coins and bites them. Satisfied with them he puts them in his pocket. He grabs one of the mugs and goes to a barrel to fill it. The mug fills with dirty amber colored liquid that foams over, running down the side of the mug. He places it in front of Dilrajis and a small puddle starts to form around the base of the mug. “Someone will be out with your food. Now if you don’t mind, I got some cleaning to do”

Dilrajis takes the mug of ale and takes a small sip. She winces as the liquid makes its way down her throat. “Thank you, remember. I’ll be over there” she points towards the table in vain. The barkeep is no longer paying any attention to her. She makes her way to the corner of the room. She looks over at patrons who are either drinking in silence of passed out, hunched over tables. She sits on the long bench and places her bag next to her. She pulls out a stack of papers and a book that she places in neat precise piles in front of her. She pulls out a bottle of ink and a pen and starts reading through the large book. She stops from time to time to take a sip from her mug or jot notes down, but as time passes, she keeps her nose deep in a book. Almost as if entranced by its contents.

D&D Sessions – The First Quest

This is part of a series. Click here for the whole story!

Zamir and Jalila drop to the ground, letting out audible breaths full of exhaustion. Weapons fall to their side, kicking up small clouds of dust as they settle in the sand below.

“Thanks for the help” Zamir says between breaths. His right arm extends for a hand shake. His palms dirty with blood stained sand.

“My pleasure” Jalila clasps Zarmir’s hand, giving off a loud clapping sound. When the adrenalin begins to wear off, she feels a soreness in her left arm and shoulder. She begins to massage it.

Tal makes his way to his brother who remains on the floor. He looks over Zarmir, his armor bloodied and scuffed from the battle. Although most of Zarmir’s wounds have closed, some of them have opened up again sending sharp burning pain through his body. Tal drops to his knees. He clasps his hands together in a prayer and whispers “may her light sooth and protect you”. His hands begin to glow as he waves his hands over Zarmir’s wounds. A soothing calm dulls the pain and Zarmir starts to feel better. 

Art by AnthonFoti

B.U.D’s clapping fills echoes over the empty arena. He walks over, his energy levels low but nothing he can’t handle. He examines the metal creature carefully and without much hesitation picks op one of the arms. “Can I have some of this for the Mother Ship?” His voice unaffected by the battle.

“Oh gosh” Jalila replies. Would it be canabalism? She thinks to herself as she begins to take off the heavier parts of her armor. Massaging the sore parts on her body.

“I don’t think its eatable B.U.D.” Tal adds, his hands still hovering over his brother.

Varus walks up behind the group. His fingers are wrapped around the arrow lodged into this shoulder. Quick movements  cause a sharp pain to shoot through his shoulder. He shuffles forward slowly trying not to cause more pain. He is used to the pain. The myriad of scars that cover his body prove he is no stranger to it, yet he is also human and the reaction to pain is only natural. He does his best to hide it, no one notices.

“Well that was easy” he finally lets out “B.U.D. a little help please” he points to the arrow in his shoulder.

B.U.D. drops the metal arm and nods “of course”. A small cloud of black metallic specks flow from pours that appear on his shoulder. They hover over his head before they surround Varus. Instinct kicks in and Verus tenses under the B.U.D’s strange cloud. He tenses even more so as they start to cover his body. He relaxes as the pain in his shoulder starts to numb. Underneath the thick cloud he hears the sound of crunching wood. He feels the weight of the arrow begin to fade  as the cloud gently tugs and pulls at his skin. The cloud disperses and B.U.D. reabsorbs the cloud. Varus looks at his shoulder, the arrow is gone and his shoulder is completely healed without a scar.

“Well aren’t you handy” Varus finally says, still astonished by his companions strange magic “Thanks”

“You’re welcome” B.U.D. replies “Does anyone else need any healing”

“I’m good” Jalila answers. She whispers a quite prayer as she massages her sore parts. Her hands glow and the pain and soreness starts to fade away.

“So what happens now?” Tal asks as the lights from his hands go out. He is completely drained now. His eyes start to grow heavy as he watches Toula who seems to be lost in thought.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never gotten this far. Most of my students either die or quit” she lets out a nervous laugh. Her left arm rubs at the back of her head. “Well officially, I am your new advisor. I will be giving you missions when they come in. But that is all I know for now”

The lack of information annoys the party. Toula’s lack of preparation doesn’t help. The group grows disheartened looking on to the person who was in charge of their career. The school’s bad reputation was no exaggeration. But the exhaustion weighs on them heavily and they lack the energy to protest. Instead they gather their gear.

“Can we leave?” Zarmir stands up gripping at his glaive.

“Yeah, class dismissed. I will contact when you get an assignment. Go get some rest” Toula turns to walk away, taking long deep gulps from her bottle.

Outside, the heat of the summer day starts to set in. There are more students out and about, talking and laughing as the party slowly makes their way back to their room. They spend the rest of the day resting and exploring the school waiting for their next assignment.

“I don’t like our new advisor” Zarmir says, not hiding any disdain he has towards her.

“I don’t know, I kind of like her” Jalila responds thinking of the strange drunk woman. She wasn’t uptight like the other teachers she has had since joining the military. Toula was the first adult who didn’t talk down to her or mention anything about her upbringing. “At least she’s not a snooty uptight instructor”

“She is a character” Tal chimes in. Unsure what exactly to think of her.

“She is unprofessional. Did you see the bottles?” Zarmir retorts, unbelieving that he was alone in his sentiment.

“Nobody’s perfect. We can’t judge her on her vices. She’s a teacher for a reason. Maybe she’s a good fighter?” Varus says as he moves his left arm in circles, unbelieving how good it felt after B.U.D’s little trick. It might have been better than it was before.

“Well I don’t see it. She is always unprepared. It is bad enough I have to be in this school, I would at least like to have someone who does their job.”

“Is that not how teachers are supposed to act?” B.U.D. asks, not seeing a problem with the strange woman who smells of booze.

“No B.U.D, they are at least supposed to know what is going on and that lady doesn’t know what day it is!” Zarmir adds growing more annoyed by the fact that he has to explain his disappointment.

“What day is it? Is it important to know what today is?” B.U.D struggles to understand the situation.

“It’s an expression B.U.D. He means to say that she doesn’t know anything.” Jalila chimes in. She didn’t think B.U.D was going to be this much work. “In any case, I don’t think we can do anything about her. We get what we get at this school. “

Zarmir continues his walk in frustrated silence. B.U.D. pulls out a glass bottle from his cloak pocket and takes a bite. Jalila lets out a soft sigh as B.U.D. slowly chews the glass. The party moves in silence except for the sound of crunching glass. The Party spends their day performing different tasks. Tal explores the school until he finds a nice place to play his lute. He works on new songs but mostly plays to relax himself. Zarmir finds a place in the woods where he can work out. He works until his muscles begin to give and continues to push himself until he can no longer move. Jalila spends her day cleaning her armor, polishing her shield specifically. She can see the dents of where the claws hit. She eventually ends up in the schools weight room. She works out until nightfall. B.U.D. walks explores the school’s grounds, eating interesting objects that he finds. He collects a lot of data for the mother ship. Varus spends some time praying to the Raven Queen when no one is looking. He spends the rest of his time trying to find any information about Captain Elaran. He finds none.

At night, the party gathers in their room. They share small exchanges of conversation that ultimately ends in an early night. B.U.D. is left in the his corner as everyone has long since retreated to their rooms. He watches the night fall over the mountains. He thinks about all the new things he ate today and hopes the Mother Ship is as pleased with his findings as he is. In a deep gravelly voice:

Hello residents of room 304, this is your courtesy wake up call. I have one announcement for you when you are all here present and ready

Doors open cautiously as the doors open to reveal a very confused B.U.D.

Was that you?

“Up here.” says a small stone gnome statue. He wears a pointy hat and his stone features animate as he talks. “Sorry to startle you, my name is Steve and I will be your point of contact with the school. I will give you announcements and send deliver any messages addressed to you”

B.U.D. begins to move forward, hand out ready to touch the talking stone gnome.

“Please don’t touch me” Steve snaps at B.U.D. “Anyways, you have a 9 am appointment with your advisor Toula. Please don’t be late. Bring whatever you would take on an adventure” with that the gnome’s eyes close. B.U.D. waves his hand in front of the gnomes face. It doesn’t react.

“I guess we have a mission” Tal breaks the silence as he gathers his things. B.U.D. continues to inch towards the curious statue. He wonders what kind of data it would send to the Mother ship.

Jalila watches and lets out a silent sigh. “B.U.D. don’t eat the thing” She shakes her head and walks to her room to get ready. B.U.D. stops and moves away, his eyes never leaving the small gnome statue.

The party once again stands outside of Toula’s office. The stench of stale liquor seeps into the hall. Again their knocking goes unanswered.  A frustrated Zarmir walks through the door announcing “We’re here for our meeting”

A sleeping snoring Toula is slumped over her desk this time. Space has been made for a her head and a small perimeter of crumpled up paper that surrounds her. There are more scraps of paper mixed in with the bottles that are scattered around her desk. B.U.D. gets excited by the sight. Zarmir continues forward. A less than gentle shove to the shoulder brings an aggressive Toula from her slumber. Fists in the air, ready to strike at the intruders she looks around blankly. It takes her a minute to calm down before she lets out a yawn. “Sorry” she finally says “didn’t think you would come back. This is all new to me. You guys are early”

“It’s actually five minutes after” Zarmir says. He debates on whether or not he should leave the office and make an appeal to have anyone else be his instructor. How will he prove his family wrong with this person as his teacher?

“Right, well there was supposed to be someone else here but I guess I’ll start on what I got” Toula pulls out a small sheet of crumpled and dirty paper. She clears her throat and begins to read slowly. Each word read more unsure than the last.

” You made it! I am. glad.  I congratulate you my students. This makes me feel good. I hope”

Before she is able to finish her thought Zarmir interrupts “It’s fine you don’t have to read anything. We get it”

“Yeah please stop” Jalila adds.

“Yeah I don’t really know what I’m doing here. You are the first to pass my test, I wasn’t prepared” she says. Zarmir lets out a small involuntary laugh.

“Really? The only ones? But that was so easy” Jalila adds smuggly

“It must mean you are worthy. I couldn’t tell by looking at ya, but I’m glad you didn’t die”

“Did you build that thing yourself?” Jalila asks

“The metal thing? Nah that wasn’t me. That was Terry. He makes all the shit around here. Odd fella but he knows how to make some fun toys”

Suddenly, there is a soft knock at the door. The door opens slowly. Headmaster Xanather walks in. His suit is freshly pressed. His wild hair reaching out in every direction almost like tentacle. His piercing yellow eyes seem to glow even in this properly lit room, Behind him, the door closes as he stands at the center of the group. He smiles and says “As you might already know, I am Headmaster Xanathar and I would like to take this moment to welcome you to my school. I am here to tell you that you are not here by accident. I have been following your careers very closely and I for one am impressed. You have a lot to learn and I am honored that you are here to learn it.”

Like we have a choice Zamir thinks to himself.

Headmaster Zanathar lets out a sneaky smile as he continues his lecture “We run things a little different here. Most students will have a normal class schedule and training to get them ready to join the ranks and fight for our great country. You and a select few have been chosen to perform some extracurriculars. You can think of it as a supplemental work study program. You well be sent out on various jobs, whether it be to escort politicians or fight monsters. There will be small bits of compensation but the real reward is the experience you will gain in the field. You have already proven yourself extraordinary students so I am sure you will do splendidly. The only rule is that you will be representing the school on these missions so act appropriately.

He pulls a small silver watch from his coat pocket. A beholder is engraved on the cover. Shock starts to wash over his face and before anyone has a chance to ask a question he lets out “Oh well I apologize for my rudeness but I simply must get going. Welcome to my school and good luck out there.” The door closes as he is out before he even finishes his sentence.

The party turns to Toula who is in mid gulp. She takes another drink before finally setting it down. “I’m sure you have questions, I don’t have answers” She opens a drawer and pulls out a map. “But I do have your first mission”

Pushes more bottles to the floor, the bounce creating a loud ruckus. With the map spread out on her desk she adds “There have been reports of animals savagely attacking people in the nearby village of Charis” her dirty finger moves and points at the small village’s name. “What we need you to do is go investigate and solve this little problem. Think you can handle it?”

“Yes but do we have any more information about the situation” Tal asks, a worried look on his face.
 

“No, that’s why you need to investigate. Can you handle a bunch of animals?”

“No problem!” Zarmir says as he flexes his slightly bigger arm “Nothing me and my glaive can’t handle”

“Can we have the map at least?” Tal asks as he studies the map.

“Yeah it’s yours. Leave when you’re ready. Report back to me when you’re done. Don’t die on me”

“Do we get any other help? Any potions or weapons? Maybe horses?” Varus chimes in from the corner of the room, Toula lets out a loud bellowing laugh. It shakes the bottles as the sound fills the room.

“Oh gods no. You seem to forget where you are. Unfortunately there aren’t many funds so you will have to be resourceful. I’m confident that you will manage just fine all the same” She winks, pulling the bottle of liquor to her mouth to take a swig.

A bit disappointed yet unsurprised by the answer, Varus pulls out a silver flask from his pocket. “Can I drink in here?”

Toula shrugs “I ain’t your mum”

Varus pops open his flasks, the scent of warm cognac mixes into the air. Toula’s nostrils start to flare, her mouth starts to water and after a big swallow lets out “What’s that you have there bud?”

“No I’m B.U.D. That’s Varus”

“Oh geez” Jalila says as he pats B.U.D on the shoulder. B.U.D. Pats her back not quite understanding the strange ritual.

“It’s a bit from my personal reserve, you want a swig?” Varus hands over the flask. Toula takes it gingerly and brings it to her nose for a sniff. It was fancy compared to the stuff she has been drinking so far. She takes a sip, the warm cognac washes down her throat.

“Wow!” she goes for another swig “this is good, what is it?”

“It doesn’t have a name, its just something I like to do for fun” he reaches for the flask and takes a long swig.

“Well if you ever get more, send some this way”

Varus smiles “that’s easy enough”

“Is there a place where we can buy potions and supplies” Zarmir asks

“Uh you can try the book store”

“It’s probably expensive never mind” Zarmir replies, already halfway out the door. The party leaves Toula’s office. They meet at the school gate, it’s a nice day. There are no clouds in the sky and a few birds fly overhead. With bags packed, weapons sharpened they take their first step on their journey to the village of Charis.

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