Tag Archives: fan fiction

D&D

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH6

August 6, 2021 josechurape Leave a comment

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.

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.

“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”

D&D

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH5

July 30, 2021 josechurape Leave a comment

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.

D&D

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH4

July 9, 2021 josechurape Leave a comment

Breakfast With a Plan

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

Krodan Mess Hall by TylerEdlinArt on DeviantArt

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.”

D&D

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH3

June 18, 2021 josechurape 7 Comments

Human and a Dwarf walk into a Bar

This Story is based on the published Wizards of the Coast advetnuter The Dungeon of the Mad Mage.

A young man and a dwarf arrive in Waterdeep as the town begins to close for the night.

The young man is in his 20’s. Tall and slender with dark brown hair that he keeps short and neatly slicked back. He has brown eyes and light brown skin. On his back he carries a quiver full of arrows and a finely made bow. His clothes aren’t new, but they are well kept with a few patches of dirt that have settled from their travel. His partner is a stout dwarf with grey skin. His black hair is fixed up in a neat pony tail and his beard is neatly braded. He wears plated mail armor and a hammer swings at his side. On his chest, a small silver symbol of Paylor bonces against his chest as they walk.

They walk through a street where tired looking vendors carry boxes and crates into shops or load them onto large wooden carts. One vendors smile at the newcomers and tries to make one last sale. The dwarf buys a couple apples and asks for directions to the Yawning Portal.

They continue through the streets of Waterdeep, twisting and turning through alleys as directed. The citizens of Waterdeep sit on their porches and watch the pair as they have loud exchanges of stories, jokes and the town gossip. The pair are hit with the smells of industry mixing with the sweet loving smells of traditional dinners. There is laughter as kids chase each other through the alleys. Lanterns begin to go up as the sky darkens.

Finally they turn the corner see the old face of the Yawning Portal. It is an older building made from ancient stone. It looks out of place here, yet it is the center of it all. It’s old wooden doors let out loud screeches that echo off the buildings around them. The pair step over a drunkard, careful not to step in his vomit. A group of rowdy adventures stumbles past the pair, singing the incoherent song of inebriation. And as the sun begins to set over the skyline, they can see the light of the flickering hearth that casts the wild dancing shadows of its patrons on the surrounding buildings. They can hear the murmurs of singing chanting and shouting. The bar is alive and the two are unable hide their excitement.The dwarf takes a deep breath, the smell of stale alcohol and cheap tobacco fills his lungs. “Well boy, we made it” the Dwarf says with a giant grin on his face.

“That we did my friend” says the young man as his hand clasps onto the dwarfs shoulder. The pair take in scenery like one would a sunset. A man stumbles to the corner of the bar and throws up against the wall but they don’t seem to notice.

Finally the Drawf taps the young man at his side “Come let’s have a drink!” The Pair take an eager step towards the bar.

Without glancing at the sheet the young man responds “Well if you think if it’s a good idea, count me in. I’ll follow you anywhere brother”

The Dwarf nods as he pats the young man on the shoulder “It’s settled then, let’s go find this Dil-Jar-Us or whomever” the Dwarf says as he walks towards the bar. “But first, a drink!”

The young man follows the Dwarf to the bar. The barkeep is busy handing out drinks and doesn’t notice the pair. The Dwarf pulls up a stool and places his hands on the sticky counter and waits patiently. The young man watches the crowd and laughs at the jokes he overhears. Finally the Barkeep comes to the dwarf “What are ya havin?”

“We need food, drink, and information” says the Dwarf as he pulls up a stool to sit at the bar. His feet dangle over the stool. The young man stands besides him, watchful of the room.

“Food and drink we have. As for information? That depends on the kind you need” The barkeep starts filling mugs.

“We are looking for the person who put this up” the Dwarf places the flyer on the bar and pushes it gently towards the barkeep.

The barkeep reads it. He chuckles and places the mugs on the sheet. “That’s an easy one. They’re sitting over there” he points to the corner to Diljaris and Roakala.

“Do you know anything about them?”

The barkeep shakes his head and shrugs “They just came in today. The dragonborn girl wants to start an adventuring party. That’s all I know”

The Dwarf nods understandingly and places a silver piece on the bar. He thanks the barkeep and move towards the Diljaris with drink in their hand. “Howd!” Says the Dwarf Loudly, trying to get their attention. “My associate and I are here to inquire upon this here job listing” The Dwarf places the piece of paper on the table. “Might it be alright if we join you for a parlay? We don’t mean to impose of course” The young man watches the Dwarf in clear bewilderment.

“Of course you may, we would be delighted. My name is Diljaris Eshbis and this is my friend Roakala”

“We’re not friends” murmurs Roakala

“Oh right, excuse our rudeness, we’ve been on the road for a while now. My names is Drugnar Oathhammer and this is my companion Gorak Truthseeker. The pleasure is all ours of course” the Dwarf nudges at the young man’s side.

“Nice to meet you” Gorak replies, clearing his throat. He seems watchful of the pair and eyes over the Roakala suspiciously.

“Is there a problem?” Roakala asks aggressively, slamming her spoon down on the wooden table.

“Why are you all the way out here? Shouldn’t you be with one of the clans?” Gorak asks.

“I’m a half Orc. I never joined a clan. Is my presence going to be a distraction?” The vein on her temple begins to throb. She grinds her teeth and begins to reach for her sword.

A blue scaled hand reaches over the table. “Now Roakala, there’s no need for that.” Diljaris turns to Gorak who is also reaching for the dagger at this side. “And you need to be more sensible about what you say. That was rude and uncalled for. If you want to join my team you will need to be respectful of your teammates”

With a worried look on his face, Drugnar steps forward. “Please excuse my friend. We’ve been away from civilization for so long, he’s forgotten how to interact with people. You won’t have any problems from us, isn’t that right Gorak?”

Gorak’s hand tensely hovers over the dagger as he continues to watch the Orc. He remains silent as he studies the orc before finally relaxing and responding “Yes, we won’t cause any more trouble” Gorak sounds defeated as he sits down at the end of the table and begins to eat his bowl of stew without speaking

Diljaris smiles and responds “That’s quite alright, we understand” Roakala stares down the Dragonborn who doesn’t seem to notice. Diljaris flips to a new page in her journal and continues “Well down to bussiness. Why do you think you would be a good addition to our team?”

Drugnar brushes his beard as he ponders before finally saying “We are great warriors and have travelled quite a distance to be here. We have successfully escorted merchants across the country. We saved a small mining village from goblins. If I continue to list our achievements you will find we are quite an impressive pair”

Diljaris diligently takes notes. Gorak peers over at the page of neat yet quickly scribbled draconic symbols. Diljaris turns to him “Do you have anything to add?”

Gorak is stunned for a moment as he ponders “I’ll shoot anything you need me to and this old man right here is the best medicine man you’ll ever need” he turns to look at the Roakala “What do you do?”

Roakala, who was in the midst of drinking her ale, puts down her mug and responds dismissively “I kill things with a sword”. She continues to eat her stew in silence.

“I’m not surprised” Gorak sneers

Roakala stands up, shaking the table almost spilling the bowls and plates that shake violently as they settle. “Are we gunna have a problem?”

“Only if you want to have one orc” Gorak says as he stands up, again reaching for his dagger. A grey heavy hand comes down on his shoulder and pulls him back. He attempts to resist but he wasn’t prepared and the hand pulls him back slightly, breaking his aggressive stance for the moment.

“This isn’t the time for that Gorak!” Drugnar says angrily. “These ladies have done nothing wrong except invite a couple of brutes to join them for dinner. Now apologize and act right.”

Gorak clenches his fists. He stands motionless at the center of the group, staring back at the Orc. Roakala mirroring his aggressing, her nostrils flare as she is ready to attack if given a reason. He takes a deep breath as his eyes meet with Drugnar who looks back angrily and disappointed. Gorak sighs as he moves his hand away from his weapon. “Sorry” he finally says sullenly and sits back down.

Drugnar turns back to the pair “Please don’t this incident affect your decision, he’s just not used to people”

“You mean Orcs?” Roakala scoffs.

“Look we can do better, let’s start over. We would love to join your party, how much does it pay?”

“Well” Diljaris replies, examining the pair “if I decide on your eligibility, everyone in the party is subject to an equal cut to all treasure and payments we receive during our time together. That is of course if they are able to earn it?

“And how do we go about becoming eligible?” Drugnar continues, looking over the notes she continues to scribble neatly into.

“Through a simple trial. The first step you are already a part of. The next step I, if you move on, will be trial by combat. We will go down into the dungeon and you can properly showcase your skills there. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Why are you here? What do you want to achieve?”

“Well my friend, I need the money and any amount helps. My young excitable friend here wants to make a name for himself. They say those who are able to explore this dungeon in it’s entirety will gain access to unimaginable riches and become legends in the process. Is that reason enough?” Diljaris continues to fill the pages with notes. She mumbles to herself in draconic. A few moments of this pass when the dwarf turns to Roakala and asks “Is your friend ok?”

Roakala shrugs “She’s not my friend, I just met her today”

“Oh hush Roakala. We’re friends, you just don’t know it yet” She says as she shuts the notebook with an audible thump. “Well after careful review of all of the potential candidates I have come to the decision to move you all to the next phase.

“Aren’t we the only candidates?” Roakala asks.

Diljaris ignores the Remark and continues “You have proven to be the most promising of the lot. Congratulation. Now eat up, get some rest we start tomorrow morning”

“Err what are we doing?” Gorak asks, breaking his brooding silence.

Diljaris perks up and smiles sweetly. Her tail wags back and forth slowly. “Isn’t it obvious? Down into the Dungeon”

D&D

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH2

June 4, 2021 josechurape Leave a comment

Chapter 2: An Orc Enters the Tavern

This story is based on the Wizards of the Coast published adventure Waterdeep: The Dungeon of the Mad Mage. There will be spoilers.

Hours go by and the bar fills up with adventurers returning from the dungeon. Some carry sacs full of treasure. Their voices full of glee as they order rounds of food and drink in celebration. Others exit with gloom and sorrow weighing them down. Bloodied, carrying on them broken armor and thick coats of dirt. Some exit the bar without making a sound, others sulk silently in a corner, deep in thought. Some emerge in tears. They denounce adventuring and through their swords into the fire before they rent the next horse out of this god forsaken town.

It is this mixture of success and sorrow that create the dynamic atmosphere at the yawning portal and tonight is no exception. Ale is poured, food is brought out. The drunken bards start to play songs and the adventurers regale tales of what they’ve seen and defeated. The bar is filled with singing, chanting, and the clanking of mugs as the floor becomes sticky with ale.

Dilrajus continues to work at her journal. She studies the crowd of drunkards and takes notes diligently. Occasionally she will take a sip of the ale that grows warm at her side or take a bite from the stew that grows cold. No approaches. Diljaris continues to wait patiently. She flips through books, orders more drink and continues to watch the beautiful chaos brought by adventuring.

A female orc walks into the Yawning Portal. The sword at her side bounces with each step. Her mail armor is dirty, worn and a size too big. Bits of her dark green skin peer through the layers of soot and grime. Her boots are well travelled, caked in dried mud. She has long black dreadlocks that come down to the small of her back. She looks around as people start to notice her. Murmers start to circulate and suddenly the all attention is on this lone orc woman.

She makes her way through a crowd that seems to grow more agitated by her presence. Hands move to weapons, yes follow her closely, yet she continues to move through the bar confidently. She walks up to the bar, the barkeep has been watching her the whole time. Before the orc can say anything the barkeep greets her aggressively “This is a place of business, don’t go startin trouble”

The ork shakes her head, lifting her hands to show the room her empty hands before responding “You won’t get any trouble from me. I just want food, drink and a place to stay”

“Food and drink is 2 silver. You want a place to stay? Look elsewhere. We’re all full for the night.”

There’s a moment of silence. The orc begins to shake slightly. “I am not some green horn adventurer you can dick around. What is the real price?” Upon hearing the aggression in her reply, the adventurers around her begin to reach for their weapons and move in closer.

“The price is the price. You want it or not” he says as he pulls out a crossbow from under the bar.

Her shaking becomes more visible. She grinds at her teeth before yelling “Listen” as she slams her fist on the bar. “I didn’t start this! I’ve done nothing wrong, Are you gunna serve me or not?.” Weapons are drawn. People start throwing insults at the orc.

Watch yourself.

Get out of here filthy green skin

She is overcome by rage. She reaches for her sword, the room is ready to pounce on her. As she grabs for the hilt, but instead of the familiar worn leather of the hilt she feels cold scales.

“I think we’ve all gotten a bit carried away” Diljaris’ voice comes from behind the Orc “Let’s settle down. The girl just wants to eat. There’s no need to be unreasonable.” The orc turns around swiftly and defensively only to be greeted by a smiling blue Dragonborn. Diljaris continues “I like your style. You should come join me for a little chat. I want to talk to you about a very lucrative opportunity that might interest you”

“No thanks” the orc says, turning around and taking a step towards the exit. Diljaris grabs the Orc by the hand and pulls at it gently. The orc stops and attempts to break away but can’t. The Orc looks angry, confused and distressed by the situation.

Diljaris, still holding the Orc’s hand, continues “We can do it over dinner. My treat. Just hear me out. There’s no harm in talking”

The orcs stomach growls. Diljaris laughs at the sound. The Orc becomes more visibly distressed and unsure of what to do. She finally lets out a sigh as her shoulders relax a bit. She turns to Diljaris, who is still smiling, and responds “Fine, but I’m not promising anything just because you’re feeding me”

Diljaris lets go of the orcs hand and claps as she lets out a gleeful giggle. “Perfect!” She turns to the barkeep and in a serious and stern tone she says” You can bring us her order. Put it on my tab but I expect the normal rate.” She grabs the Orc woman by the hand and starts leading her through a crowd of people who eye the odd couple suspiciously. “Come, we’re over here”

“We?” the orc asks sounding a bit distressed. There is no response as they continue through the bar. The table is neatly organized with books and journals spread out. The orc eyes pages filled with strange draconic symbols. “You just leave your stuff out like this”

“Oh” Diljaris says thinking for a moment “Well everyone was busy looking at you, I didn’t think they would come take it. Please, sit!” The orc places her small leather bag, sword and shield on the long bench and sits beside them. Diljaris still smiling, studies the Orc woman and quickly jots down notes on a new page. She writes for a moment before saying “How rude of me” she puts down her pen “My name is Diljaris Eshis. I am a wizard if you can’t tell. I am putting a team together to go down into the dungeon and you my friend, seem like a very strong candidate. I do have a few questions before we can talk about you joining the team. What is your name?”

“You won’t survive a day down there princess. Why do you wanna go down there anyways?”

Diljaris is shocked by the reply “I will have you know that I am a very capable person. Now please don’t be rude, what is your name?”

The orc sighs. “You can call me Roakala”

“Fair enough. Why do you think you should be able to join my crew”

“You are the one who asked me here. You should be trying to convince me” Roakala says, sounding a bit annoyed.

“Answer the questions please, you will have time to ask your own questions at the end. What skills will you be bringing to the group”

Roakala begins to gather he belongings silently, Diljaris watches before a server finally arrives with a bowl of hot stew and a mug of ale. Roakala looks down at the bowl of stew. The scent fills her nose, making her take a long audible gulp. “Could you be so kind to bring us a pitcher of ale” Diljaris asks, still smilling “We are going to be a while”

Roakala stares at Diljaris and seems to be in deep thought. She looks down at the food and the ale and remains silence as she seems to contemplate a complicated decision. Roakala returns her equipment to the bench and sits down, bringing the bowl of stew to her. She begins to eat the soup before replying “I’m good in a fight. My stuff might be old, but I know how to use it”

“And what are your goals for coming here?”

Roakala keeps eating hungrily. Slurping loudly. Diljaris watches and takes note. Roakala responds “I’m here to make money, so if you hiring, I think we should speak terms”

“We will speak terms if you qualify. To be clear, I am not looking for employees. I am looking for a group I can trust and can handle themselves down there”

“Does it pay?”

“Of course, you get a share of the loot. Indulge me for a bit longer” Diljaris says as her pen moves quickly, leaving behind it clean calculated calligraphy. “Tell me what you know about the dungeon”

Roakala washes down the stew with big gulps from the mug. Bits of foam and ale spill from the corner of her mouth. They move down her chin, leaving a shimmering trail. Small drops fall on her chain mail leaving behind dark circles. She slams the mug down letting out a loud resonating belch before finally replying “I hear there’s treasure down there that no one’s claimed. I’m here to collect it so I never have to work again”

“But you are here to work correct?” Diljaris looks up, a bit of concern in her eyes.

“Well I have to get to the treasure somehow.” Roakala continues scooping up the stew in her mouth. Seeing that the bowl is nearly empty, Diljaris pushes her untouched bowl of stew gently towards Roakala. Roakala surprised by the gesture, stops eating. She studies the bowl of stew. Smells it. Looks at the strange dragonborn who continues to stare at her, continues to smile, and insists on having conversation.

Roakala puts down the spoon. “What are you trying at?”

“Trying? I don’t understand”

“You saved me from a mob and you then feed me. If you’re looking for a servant, look elsewhere. I don’t serve no one”

“You misunderstand, If you are selected join, there won’t be any ranks and we all get an equal share”

Roakala continues to watch her suspiciously but picks up her food. She begins to work on the second bowl. “Can I ask questions now?”

“Just one last thing. What is your favorite part about adventuring?”

Roakala continues to eat. She doesn’t answer right away but continues to eat away at her bowl of stew. “I’m in it for the money” she finally replies, standing up to take a breath of air. She takes the pitcher of ale and fills it with the murky golden liquid.

“Do you need more to eat?”

“Do I gotta pay it back?”

“Oh no, it’s my treat. You look hungry”

“Then I’ll take 2 more of these” Roakala replies, lifting the side of the bowl to show that it was empty. Diljaris orders another tree bowls of stew and a pitcher of ale. She gives the waitress 1 silver and thanks her.

“Thank you for your time, you are a very intriguing candidate, but I will need to review all of the candidates before I can make a decision” Diljaris says as she closes the journal and takes a sip from her mug.

Roakala searches the room as she picks at her teeth before saying “There ain’t nobody else is there?”

Diljaris laughs loudly and responds “There are a few, but they aren’t here yet.”

D&D

Mad Mage Chronicles – CH1

May 28, 2021 josechurape Leave a comment

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.

[OC] My Yawning Portal Inn! : DnD (reddit.com)

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.

Churape's Dungeon and Stuff