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Mad Mage Chronicles – CH6

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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.

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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.

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“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”

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Mad Mage Chronicles – CH5

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

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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.

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Mad Mage Chronicles – CH3

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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“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”

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Mad Mage Chronicles – CH1

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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.

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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.

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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

D&D Sessions: The Road to Charis

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It was a warm day when they leave the school. I few birds fly overhead, slightly obscuring the cloudless sky. A light refreshing breeze passes over them, giving them a brief moment of respite from the heat of the sun. Dust settles on their boot straps as they move carefully through the forest. They leave the mountains and the school behind them. It disappears behind the growing canopy. B.U.D. moves the most confident, despite not quite knowing where he is going. His head is caught up on the parameters of his mission. There are a lot of new and wonderous items in this forest and B.U.D. attempts to collect them all. All in the name of the mothership.

Jalila and Tal follow close behind B.U.D., constantly pulling him back to the path whenever he veers too far from the path. Their sighs become as common as the bird songs that follow them on their journey.

“B.U.D. come back!” Jalila yells, sounding more and more annoyed as the day grows longer. For a moment, B.U.D. will follow the directions and walk at stride with his companions, but this is short lived as something new and shiny always plucks him from the path. Tal and Jalila continue after him. Making sure he never gets too far from the party.

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Varus and Zamir keep their distance and watch the spectacle curiously. They are amused by their struggle and never once offer to help. Zarmir chuckles as he watches Jalila and his brother struggle with their large metal friend. Night begins to fall on the party. They are behind schedule but it is getting too dark to move safely through the forest. They search for a safe place to set up camp. Varus builds a small fire.  Zarmir sits and chews on some of his dried rations as he polishes his glaive. Tal begins to prep the various ingredients for a rabbit stew. Jalila finds a tree to lean against and drops to her seat. She takes off her boots and massages her feet letting out a sigh of relief. Without looking up she says “We need to tie you up B.U.D.

B.U.D Claps and replies “I had a busy day! Look at all the data I have gathered for the mother ship” B.U.D begins to set down a myriad of rocks, plants and other odd objects he found along the way. He begins to organize it by type and size, mentally documenting the novelty of each item. Satisfied with their placement, he begins to pop each item into his mouth, swallowing it in turn. He savors the item. Not the taste, B.U.D has no sense of taste, but the new experience he collects from each item. As much as he is proud to have collected items for the mothership, it is his own curiosity in tandem that motivates him to complete his mission.

“So” Tal asks as he chops carrots.  “What’s the mothership?”

“Thank you for asking” B.U.D. replies with a large grin in his face, “The mothership is where I come from. She made me and she gave me my mission.”

“Excuse me? What mission?” Zarmir perks up. He eyes his metal classmate suspiciously.

“The mothership has sent me to this planet to learn all I can about it” B.U.D. continues to eat away at his collection in between replies.

“What are you gunna do with it?” Zarmir grows more suspicious.

“Do? It is my mission to learn everything there is about this planet for the mothership” B.U.D says, excited to talk about the mothership to his friends.

“Why?” Varus asked, also suspicious by the answers.

“Because the mothership asked me too. It is my mission.”

“This isn’t going anywhere” Jalila chimes in “How do you collect data anyways?”

“Oh it’s quite a simple processes. I put the items I have collected into my mouth. They are pulled down into my, I guess you would call it a stomach, where nanobots break down the item to its basic components. I then analyze said components and collect the data. The data is then saved into my memory at which point it is duplicated and sent to the mothership  through a special connection I share with her”

“Ok?” Tal replies, not quite understanding the answer. There is a shared confusion that washes over the group as they try to piece together the nonsense of B.U.D.’s reply. “So, where does the mothership come from?”

B.U.D. perks up at the sound of the question and with his voice full of excitement he replies “Well the mothership has always been. She comes from mothership before that who comes from the mothership before that. And she comes from the mothership before that. And she comes before the mothership before that. And…”

“Ok we get it! But what planet do you come from?” Tal asks.

“I don’t come from a planet. I come from the mothership who comes from the”

“Stop!” Zarmir interrupts, his head beginning to throb ” We get it B.U.D. Thanks” He is unsure what to think of his new classmate or his mission, but he sure is annoyed by B.U.D’s strangeness.

B.U.D. continues eating his collection of items. He wanders a bit as he spots new mysteries around the camp.

The night settles and the only light they share is the fire that sits between all of them. Tal passes out the bowls of hot soup. The sounds of slurping and idle chatter fills the space and drowns out the sounds of the owls and crickets. They watch as the smoke floats away into darkness. Suddenly, a russtling in the forest interupts their peace. They can hear the sound of footsteps crunching at leaves and twigs and moving violently through shrubs and bushes.  Arms reach for weapons. Bowls are placed gently on the ground. Bodies stand up quietly and move slowly to greet whatever it is that comes for them.

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A lone figure steps out of the forest. He is a slender man with shoulder length black hair. He is sweety and dirty. His hair matted from the sweat humidity. He looks at the party as the feeling of fear and apprehension overcomes him.  He throws his empty hands out in a feeble attempt to ward off oncoming attacks and shouts “No wait! I saw the fire and came to check it out. I mean no harm. I’m a bard!”

Zarmir and Varus keep their weapons trained on the stranger. They eye him closely. His clothes are dirty and covered in small tears from travel. Over his shoulders hangs a small worn bag that has begun to fray at the seams.  There is no visible weapon on him. Zarmir moves closer,  closing the distance between him and the stranger. He places the blade end of the glaive inches from the stranger’s chest. The metal rings that line the dull end of the glaive jingle as the blade comes to a stop. Zarmir in a hostile voice says “Who are you? What are you dong here?”

Caught off guard by the sudden hostility, the stranger nervously lets out “Um. I. My name. My name is. Is Rodrigo and I um. Can you please point that somewhere else?” Rodrigo motions slowly towards the glaive and waits for an answer. Without a word, Zarmir moves closer, now pressing the blade to Rodrigo’s chest. The cold polished steel makes a small cut in his tunic. Rodrigo swears he can feel the blade digging into his skin. He swallows hard, his hands start to shake. Cold sweat starts to run down his back. His voice shakes as he lets out  “I’m not. Im not here to fight. I saw the fire and thought you were adventurers. I didn’t want to be alone in the dark in this forest. I’m on my way to Charise. To visit my aunt. I swear that’s all it is. I don’t have any weapons, check my stuff” He drops his small bag by his feet. Zarmir watches Rodrigo closely, still filled with mistrust.

“Back up” Zarmir orders, he pushes the glaive a bit into Rodrigo’s chest who moves back slowly. His hands still shaking and raised. Sweat starts to fall down the side of his brow and glistens with the light of the fire. Zarmir reaches down and opens the bag. He spreads the contents around on the dirt. Within the small bag there is a journal full of stories and poems and songs.  A worn out pen and half a bottle of black ink. There is a flute, polished and delicately wrapped in cloth. There are a few dried food rations and a waterskin that is mostly full. Zarmir drops the blade from Rodrigo’s chest. We walks away from the mess he’s made, back to his bedroll where he picks up his bowl and continues to eat. He watches Rodrigo from the corner of his eyes.

Rodrigo picks up his belongings. Taking long breaths as he tries to calm himself. His hands still shake. “So. Would it be all right if I spent the night here with you guys. I won’t be any trouble I swear.” He slings the bag over his shoulder and waits for a reply.

“I don’t see a problem with that” Tal says as he begins to pluck at his lute.

“Thanks a lot. This forest is no joke” Rodrigo drops to the ground and takes off his bouts. He breaths a loud sigh of relief as he wiggles his toes in the fresh air. “So what brings you guys out here?”

Tal still a bit suspicious replies “We are going to Charis to investigate some issue the village is having.

Rodrigo perks up at the mention of the town. “Wow that’s a coincidence. Would you guys mind if I tagged along for the rest of the way? I can play music, tell stories, jokes?”

The party is silent until it becomes uncomfortable. B.U.D. is the first one to break the silence. He says in his happy go lucky tone “Yes that seems logical. We are going the same way.”

Rodrigo eyes B.U.D. curiously. With the tension settled, Rodrigo looks at B.U.D. for the first time. His metallic body glistens in the light of the fire. It isn’t armor, he thinks to himself. At least not the kind that can be removed. “What are you?” Rodrigo finally lets out, not quite sure what to make of this strange creature. He had never seen anything like this. He pulls out the journal from his bag and begins to take notes. He describes B.U.D. in short bullet points.

Metal humanoid. Seems to speak and understand common.

B.U.D. replies ” I am a Biomechanical Universal Diplomat and I was sent here by the mothership to learn everything I can about your planet. People here call me B.U.D.” Rodrigo starts taking notes furiously, squinting at the letters on the page he can just barely make out.

“What is the mothership?” Rodrigo asks without lifting his gaze from his notes.

“Well the mothership made me and tasked me to come to this planet to gather data. She comes from the mothership before that who comes from the mothership before that who…”

The rest of the party move as far away as possible from the two. Jalila and Tal relieved that someone else gets a turn with B.U.D. Zarmir and even Varus chuckle to themselves as they hear the murmurs of the endless loop that is the story of the mothership.  

D&D

D&D Sessions – The First Quest

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ArtStation – For honor warden_Fanart, Kim Junghun

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?

Smoke Drawing

“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”

Map Sorce

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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D&D Sessions – Toula the Combat Teacher

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The next morning, the room was still and quiet. Zamir wakes up before the sunrise to train. The rest sit in their room. Varus takes out a symbol of the Raven Queen that he kept hidden under his shirt, kneels and begins to pray. B.U.D stands in his corner in silence, watching out the window as the world begins to grow brighter. Tal pulls out his loot and begins strumming some notes softly, half distracted by thoughts on the upcoming exam. He spent the night trying to prepare, but there was only so much he can do. Jalila sits in her room polishing her armor. She had a great nights sleep on the incredibly luxurious bed that was provided for her. She has spent most of her life sleeping on the floor, the mattress is a welcomed change.

Image by Quang Nguyen vinh from Pixabay

As the sound of the morning alarm finally rings, Zarmir finally returns from his training. B.U.D watches as Zamir makes his way to his room. He listens as he can hear the rustling of people finally getting ready. Tal sings a muffled song in his room. B.U.D becomes fascinated in this planet’s morning rituals. This is the first time he has lived in such an intimate environment. B.U.D is excited by all the data he collects as everyone finishes getting ready.

When our heroes step outside, the morning dew has long since evaporated. The sun has not yet reached its highest point and the cloudless sky offer no relief to what is sure to be an unusually hot day. There are some people out and about. Some lounging about having idle conversations while others rush to their next appointment. Aside from that, the school is silent. Each footprint echoes off the walls of the dormitories with only the songs of birds to give the world variance. The group makes small talk. With their minds preoccupied by the exam, the talk consistently ends awkwardly.

Image by Manuel Reina from Pixabay

Our heroes arrive at the coliseum. It is a large, impressive stone building, visible from any where in the school. Massive pillars hold up its side. There are large statues, almost as tall as the building itself, of heroes in mid combat. The large gates of the coliseum are open. A small party stand outside, their bodies drenched in sweat. They talk about their class schedule.

The group moves past them, into the large lobby of the coliseum. A few banners hang with the school’s insignia neatly etched into the fabric. Around the edges of the lobby are more statues of heroes, these with name plates and dates decorating their basses. A few tables set up, but only one was occupied. Behind it, a young man who at the moment is slumped over the table, sound asleep in a pool of his own drool. His heaving breathing echoes off the walls of the chamber. The group makes their way towards him.

“Excuse me” Tal says as he gently taps the shoulder of the sleeping figure.

The young man stirs from his slumber. He takes a long blink as he wipes away the drool from the rim of his mouth. “I apologize, I must have dozed off. How may I help you?”. His voice is groggy. He wipes the sleep from his eyes.

“We are here for the exam. We have room 5a. Can you tell us where that is?”

“Oh? So you’re the group” He begins but he catches himself as he seems to remember some terrible truth.  “Um just go down this hall, you can’t miss it”

“The group?” Varus adds suspiciously “What do you mean by that?”

“Yeah, can you tell us about the test” Jalila adds.

The young man lets out a nervous laugh” Oh uh. I’ve said too much. I’m sorry I’m not allowed to say more. I wish you all luck!”

“What can you tell us?” Varus continues to pry, growing more suspicious by the second.

The young man looks around for help but none can be found. A bead of sweat starts to take form on his forehead. He sighs “All I will say is that it will be tough. I wish you luck and good fortune, now I really must take my leave. I have too much work to do.” With that, he stands up and walks away from the group, leaving them alone in the lobby.

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They make their way down the hall. Room 5A stands before them. A small moment of still quiet falls over the group. Tal knocks softly. No answer. Another soft knock, still no answer. The door is unlocked.

The door opens and the smell of stale ale fills the hallway. The room is plain, except for the piles of glass bottles that seem to be everywhere. Underneath one of these piles is a desk, one that feels sticky from this distance. There is no other furniture in the room except for a chair that now holds a sleeping dwarven woman. Her long-matted hair comes down in thick dirty dreadlocks. Her large muscular arms crossed over her chest. She is slumped back against the wall. She snores and the bottles shake as they react to the reverberation of her voice. She doesn’t seem to notice the intruders.

Zarmir uses his glaive to knock at the door frame “Hello?”

Still no response. Zarmir knocks louder. She doesn’t even flinch. With a loud sigh he walks walks up to the dwarf. The smell of stale ale grows thicker.

“Good morning!” he adds Impatiently.

The sleeping dwarf wakes in a jolt. She stares at the intruders, her face not hiding her confusion. There is more silence before she finally says “You’re late!” Her eyes already searching for more liquor.

“Actually, we were early. Waking you up made us late” Zarmir retorts. He doesn’t like this new teacher. She is incredibly unprofessional.

“Oh right” she responds as she continues her search for another drop of liquor. “Well I am Toula, you can call me Toula. No Miss, Mrs, just Toula.” Her voice is rough and gravely. She continues to sift through a pile of bottles on her desk as she talks.

“You, my unlucky friends, have the pleasure of doing the only kind of test that really counts for anything Yours will be a trial by combat. I only have three rules” she continues. She raises a bottle to her eye, shaking for the sound of liquid.

 “One, don’t die. I am not responsible for any deaths. If death is going to be a problem, drop out now.”

All but Varus raise an eyebrow. No one mentioned anything about death. It isn’t even the first day and now death is on the table.

“Two” She raises two fingers up “go all out. Show me what you’re really made of. I need to be entertained. If you aren’t going to do your best” she pauses as she brings a bottle to her nose and sniffs. Satisfied by the scent, she continues “drop out now.

She takes a long gulp. “and three” She pauses, looking as if she is searching for the next answer “play it smart, I will not go in to help you. If you need me to save you, drop out now.”

“What are we fighting?” Varus asks. Aside from B.U.D. He seems the least phased by the new information.

Toula smiles “Now it wouldn’t be any fun if I gave you that”

“Yes there would” Tal responds “it be so much fun” The others nod in agreement.

“In war, you don’t always know what you are fighting before hand. This will test that. Now through those doors is your destiny, go forge a good one” She takes another gulp of alcohol. The group tries to protest but she is already walking to the door. Before leaving she adds “prove to me you deserve my attention”

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D&D

D&D Sessions – Prologue

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

The year is 1414 A.Y.  and there is peace in the Yozia Empire, although there are always rumors of war with Tal’Dorei. But these wispers do not carry fear or lament but rather excitement and enthusiastic anticipation. The Empire is strong under the rule of the great Lord Guillement and people are sure that any war will result in victory.

All across the country, the vast military might of the Yozia empire trains tirelessly. There are tales of warriors who wield unimaginable magic, swordsman whose blades can cut mountains, and the brilliant armor smiths who make weapons worthy of the gods. Across the continent, 13 academies have formed to foster the creation of elite officers. Heroes who will fill the rank and help bring the nation to a brighter tomorrow.

Our story starts in one of these thirteen. A school with a less than savory reputation. The blemish of the nation, yet here it stands at the border of the Ashkeeper Peaks and the Lotusden Greenwoods. Here it stands, gates open and still enrolling new students. Some students attend because they have no other choice. Others because they hope to one day transfer to a more reputable institution. There are few that go here by choice. Whose hears fill with joy because they get to go to one of the prestigious 13, but those students are rare.

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The doors of Xenarthra’s School for Heroes and Heroism opens it’s doors to new students today. Small crowds of people start to make their way towards the entrance, The name of the school spelled neatly over the metal gate.

The gates open to a large white building. A gold plaque with the schools name neatly engraved sits attached to the right of large wooden double doors. Across it’s pillars hang signs that welcome students in common. The crowd is lead past the dormitory to a large sports field. At it’s center, a stage has been constructed. Behind it, a sign hangs that reads “Welcome” in common. There are tables with signs that read “registration and room assignments” that satellite the stage. The crowd begins to thicken. People line up to register. Others stand idly, making uncomfortable small talk with strangers. Others are quick to make friends.

About five minutes after the crowd stops pouring in, a woman makes her way on stage. She is an older human woman with graying black hair and brown eyes. She wears a purple suit with a white rose pinned to her lapel. She gets to the front of the stage and clears her through meekly. A soft whispering voice booms over the crowd. The crowd slowly gets silent.

“Welcome students. I hope you found us well. We are pleased to open our doors to the 74th class of the X.S.H.H. I am the president of the first year class Ms. Andrea Wiggenstaff. Ms. Wiggenstaff is fine. I am here to make sure that your transition into our wonderful school is as easy is possible. If you have any issues or concerns, please do not hesitate to come to me for help. My door is always open and you can find that on the third floor of that big white building you saw when you first walked into the gates. Please make sure you get your room assignments before you leave here today, you can find them at the tables scattered throughout the field. They are ordered alphabetically. Now the headmaster would like to say a few words.”

At this point a slender human male climbs onto the stage. His fine black suit has been freshly pressed. His wild unkept white hair is in a messy mangled fro.  His rimless glasses sit before his golden almost yellow eyes. He gets to the front of the stage and scans the room. There is a minute of silence before he speaks. His voice booms loudly over the crowd.

“I am Headmaster Xanathar and this is my school. You have come here today from far and wide because you are the best at what you do and I should be so lucky to have you. I look around me today and know that there is no one in this crowd that is worthy. Whatever trophy, award, or achievement you think you have that sets you apart from the rest means nothing today. And as ready as you think you are to go out there and prove your worth to the nation, I am here to tell you that you are not yet ready. You are still young and although what you may have achieved thus far may be impressive, it is not enough for what is to come. But you will be ready one day. And here together you will bear witness to something great. You will be the hands that help forge this generation into greatness. You will create a rich and meaningful history full of heroes and Heroism. Today you may not be ready, today you may not have what it takes to survive wars cold cruel clutches but today you take your first step towards becoming ready. I only ask you to do your best and work hard.”

The sound of a lonely pair of hands start to clap slowly. No one joins. Instead people start to move towards the tables, continue their conversations, or stare at the giant robot who stands alone, clapping awkwardly. He continues to clap until he sees an ornate flower braided neatly into a young woman’s hair. He reaches out, his arms genltly plucking the flower and before anyone could react, sticks it in his mouth. People move away from the strange robot and the strange robot goes on his way.

Ms. Wiggenstaff returns to the stage to make last minute announcements. “Don’t forget exams start tomorrow and..” her voice trails off, completely consumed by the hustle and bustle of registration day.

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