Topic awaiting preservation: Um, whatever (Page 1 of 1)

Signed someone on that is interested in doing some wiki content. He's been having a blast playing with some of my material and was showing interest in showing his derivations. So, I opened the door to him as my creative artsy-fartsy side can only go so far. We'll see how it goes.

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OCLD server for Gloom has been down for a few months since a DOS attack. It cost the company quite a chunk of change. I heard they know the kid that did it, but I think litigation might be tough due to his young age. Damn script kiddies.

Apparently the company has decided to foot the bill for a dedicated T1 for the Gloom community. This is because a few folks in the Gloom community have seriously helped the company with some serious tech stuff. Still waiting for more news.

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Speaking of Gloom, I was defense/base engi and saw an HT doing some funny stuff. I am 'unnamed' in this conversation. Kind of sucks being 'unnamed', but that's the way it goes for now.

quote:

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(unnamed): orc, are you doing the happy ht dance?
(Orc): aye
(Orc): the stinger attracting dance
(Orc): hehe
Willington almost dodged Orc's blast.
[A]Willington: fffs
[A]Willington: ORC ORC ORC I HATE U
(Orc): 2 stings down

---

I was laughing pretty good at that. I tried explaining it to Woman, but . . .

Anyways, it's good to laugh.

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lotr1.txt
lotr2.txt

The Adventures of Farglik the Mon Calamari Autocamp 2000

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Yeah, whatever.

The Aslyum level in Painkiller is an absolute blast with the stake gun.

Painkiller > Asylum > Stake Gun

Shoot the little guys in mid-air.
Pin the big guys to the floor by the foot.
Wait until a big guy gets really close, shoot him in the head to pin him high on a wall, then finish him off with a grenade.

----

Darren, my latest AD&D guy, is a human male wizard/thief. Quiet, shy, fragile, and rather feminine. He doesn't run, he frolics. He prefers anklets to braclets. Very tactile, even with his tongue. If you hand him something, he will handle it and taste it. He can identify most metals and other materials excedely accurately by taste.

His really big thing is long, hot, baths with scented oils. His idea of heaven is a day spa or Turkish bathhouse.

He absolutely hates violence, but will fight if cornered. He would prefer to fight from a distance with spells and let the others do the hand-to-hand. Oddly enough, with two massive fighters in the party, Darren has killed far more baddies than both fighters put together.

In our group I'm not exactly known for playing it straight. I usually play somebody dangerous to the party in one way or another. I easily hold the record for PC murders. My characters seem to always be cunning and devious, and will murder a PC without blinking. Twice I've wasted the entire party - not to mention the occassional solo murder of a PC.

Darren has changed all of that. It was a big shock to everybody, even myself.

We were in Undermountain and hurting in a bad way. Just our luck that we were being attacked from one direction with some baddies coming after us from another direction. I stayed behind while everybody else narrowly escaped. As soon as they were behind a closed door, I dropped a nuke right at my feet. I had killed our opposites (Mirror of Opposition), the undead paladin, his cohorts, and the evil pixies.

I had sacrificed myself to save the party. It didn't really sink in until the DM said, "Dude, he just saved the party." It was a moment that we'll talk about for years to come when we reminisce.

As cool as that was, we were in Undermountain, and strange things happen in Undermountain. Not only was I fine after the blast, but in perfect health. Turns out that a little object I had picked up was a very strong magic item compliments of Dumathoin. When the wearer of the object is killed, the wearer is brought back to life with a Heal spell as a bonus.

The other day, one of our crew mentioned how nice it is for me to be playing a mellow character. I wasn't doing anything funny and I had even sacrificed myself to save the party. Now the DM and I are conspiring to pull a switch-a-roo. While I'm out scouting the yuan-ti compound, a doppleganger will take my place. Let the paranoia begin!

We're so evil.

Hey I didn't know there were other AD&D fans on this site. That's great finely somebody.

"When people say 'clean as a whistle' they forget that a whistle is full of spit."

Not only are there AD&D fans, but a small group of players amoung us. The logs are around here somewhere.

My guy, Darren, has started his own little journal of our adventures from his perspective. "I've taken to calling the dwarf Thud because I saw him taking a piss once." One of the other players was talking about doing as well. It's cool to hear the same story from different perspectives.

Our DM gave us all blank books to keep notes or use as a journal. I started my journal a bit late, so the first few adventures are a bit disjointed. Now that I'm caught up, it's starting to come together rather well. I actually made some connections by writing things down and reading several times. Good stuff.

The town is Pendulum. There is a bauble shop called Su Casa run by Dov, a tacky female charlatan fortune-teller. You know, tacky scarves with tacky prints, and absolutely atrocious cold-reading skills.

Turns out that Dov is a man named Lance. I think this was a spur of the moment thing the DM did just to jib my character. As tacky and unfabulous as Dov is, Lance is actually very cool and we've become good friends. Fancy that.

Near the town, we accidently opened up a small gate to the first level of Hades. Minor demons have flooded the town and are making preperations to summon major demons. Said preperatons are torturing and killing townsfolks, including Lance. Also, I am currently in possession of the book about regional summoning rituals that talks about these things. Amazingly enough, this book contains the true names of seven demons.

Egads!

So I decided to code the names into my journal using recent events as a vehicle. You know, poetry. Still undecided if we're going destroy the original book.


My Lance No More

My Lance
Again and again
My Lance
My Lance
And now
No lance


My Eyes Kill (inspired by the dwarf's use of Fire Eyes spell)

My eyes will kill
All of you!
Run, cowards!
Die now of your own accord
Unless you want me to blatantly
Kill you!


A simple enough code and shouldn't be too hard to figure out. The group is going to die laughing when they read them. Good stuff. Now I have to figure out how to drop clues that the names are in there. As time goes on, maybe my cyphers and encryptions will get a bit more complicated.

I just gotta say that props thoroughly rock. We've got several stacks of various notes, maps, and things. One of my favorite props is the Flask O' Whoop Ass. We also still have the orignal map of Undermountain that we started 14 years ago in our first champaign together. We refer to is as The Map. Several large pieces of paper taped together with lots of scribbles and things. We really should frame The Map and hang it up somewhere.

We were talking about wishlists. Usually magic items, but sometimes other things. We tend to get crazy and *adultify* various things.

Figurine of Wonderous Power, Man-Servant / Man-Slave
Activating this item involves 'blowing it like a whistle'.

A lot more, like Phallus of Distruption, but I'll spare you.

I think I'll go browse the carnalguide again.

What do people use to play D&D online? I've seen various MUD programs, but none streamlined enough to organize anything practical. I have several friends (whom I play D&D with) leaving for college, and we'd like to continue our campaigns ( / think it a good way to keep in touch). What is used by the Ozone players? Or do you just use email, and forgoe combat in favor of a pure story / character-based experience?

I believe Open RPG. I remember it being brought a few times. Also, if I remember correctly, WebS is the guy to talk to. Hopefully he'll pop in.

http://www.openrpg.com

I've tried RPG gaming online, but it wasn't for me. When it comes to table-top D&D, I'm a social creature. I think it's because I'm a role-player role-player. I get into my characters and it's all about voice inflections, body language, and facial expressions.

edit:
Wait . . . I don't think that's it.
Damn. :sigh:

(Edited by warjournal on 08-14-2005 05:45)

Malici, Rose, and the Ju-Ju

Malici was solo at the time. Just passing the time and slowly making his way to where ever.

I came to area with some kind of primitives. Tents, furs, and flint weapons. We were aware of each other and we gave each other our space. You could say we had mutual respect, but that wouldn't be completely accurate. It was more like they respected me and I didn't care about them.

Then I started having visions of a black panther during and dusk. One thing I enjoyed was watching the sun set, and the black panther thought that would be the best time to haunt me. Being the hunter priest that I was, I was intrigued, but got nothing.

Little did I know that there was a killer in the woods. Someone was running around and killing the primitives rather effeciently. Once dead, they were left untouched. No trophies taken or anything. Definitely with a sharp-edged weapon, long or short sword. The murders looked like an act of vengence or something similiar. Wanton for the sake of killing with "modern" a weapon.

A small group of primitive warriors came to my camp one afternoon. They told me about the murders and went on-and-on about how they wanted my help to track the killer. I just let them talk the whole time and didn't say a word.

That's when Rose came into the camp, a human female with armour and a long sword drawn. When she walked past the primitives, she scowled and they cringed. Yeah, mostly likely the killer. Then she knelt before me and offered her sword in servitude.

The primitive warriors just about went ballistic when they saw this. I must admit that I was a bit taken aback as well.

Things were about to get ugly and I had to say something. I'm all for a good fight, but on my terms and this just wasn't going to happen.

I winked at Rose and went into my speech, "You dudes need to shut up. Those that were killed were killed for good reason. You know my faith and you know my strength - how dare you question me! Are you just as faithless as the dead and willing to die as they did? The faithless have no place here. I ask you, do you have faith? If not, tell me now so we can end your miserable lives right now."

They stammered for a moment and left without a peep. I can't believe I had averted a blood bath by intimidation, especially since I was just guessing as to Rose, her recent actions, and her intent. Good thing I was kind of right about my assumptions.

Rose told me that she had been called by a higher power to serve me. I took her as a gift from my god, and we set off together. (Even though I took her as being from my god, she was actually from a Deck of Many Things that I had drawn from some weeks before. Maybe someday I'll tell you about Grumbar Blackteeth and the card that he drew.)

Rose and I just hung out for a days just wandering around the woods. We eventually saw the black panther again, but this time it lingered. We gave chase and it led us to some ruins. On the surface, looked like an underground house of some sort. Not a temple or a cave with kobolds or anything. Just a small underground complex were someone lived in seclusion and had been ravaged by time.

We followed the panther in and it disappeared leaving us without a guide. Time to explore.

One of the first real rooms we found was a wizard's laboratory. That's when the occupant of the complex, a ju-ju zombie, attacked us. It sucked being trapped in that room. We barracaded the door and tipped over the table to take cover behind. When the ju-ju got his head through the door, we lobbed flasks and things at it. It was pretty pathetic.

Rose freaked. She was supposed to be my protector, but even the most hardened champions fail moral checks on occassion. After all, she was city girl and not used to these kinds of things. I can't believe I was understanding and re-doubled my efforts to get us out alive.

I managed to get out of the room and around the ju-ju to lead him away from Rose. I took some damage in my flight and wouldn't be able to handle much more melee with the ju-ju, especially since he's undead and I wasn't equipped to deal with undead. Running blindly, I locked myself in yet another room.

This room had a priestly hint to it. Ceremonial robes, prayer candles, and things. I started ransacking the chests frantically looking for anything to help. Luckily I found some potions. Unfortunately, one did Grease on me and the other did Levitate (made my check for mixing, so that was good).

Jeez. Could things get anyworse? My protector had freaked, a ju-ju was banging the door in, and I couldn't touch anything due to Grease and Levitate.

Then I remembered that I was kind of equipped to deal with undead. One spell that I had found handy was Flame Blade, and I just happened to have it. After all, it's not like it was going to slip out of hands like my other weapons.

I managed to levitate above the door by waving my arms like a maniac. Then I cast Flame Blade just as he broke through the door. When he came it, I decended on him in full force and fury. It was like a Voltron manuever. Ju-ju be dead.

I can't believe I had won despite all of the bad luck.

I fetched Rose. Still a bit shaken, but fine.

After a little more poking around, I found a Figurine of Wonderous Power, Black Panther. It was the one that had been haunting me.

Rose was a decent companion, but she started wearing on my nerves. She was a little too 'city' and 'honourable' for my tastes. I eventually released her from her obligation by telling her to attack a far superior foe. That was the end of her. At least she died the way she wanted to . . . I think.

The black panther on the other hand became my best friend for many years. She has even helped me stay sane when the evil in my heart started to become too much.

She was eventually stolen from me by a band of orcs and ogres.

He went on to have a few adventures after that. When we last left Malici he was hunting for said orcs and ogres. He's a lot stronger now and in possession of a Claymore +4 Vorpal weapon. It was a gift given to him for helping to lift a curse on a mother and daughter. If he ever catches up with those orcs and ogres - no mercy.

Epic Battles and Running Villians

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Al is a tripled class male elf. A whopping 3 hp at 1/1/1. All of us were pretty wimpy and we ended up Menzo fighting in house wars. During the chaos during an attack we managed to slip free only to end up being assaulted by an inquisitor.

We tried some hit-n-run against the inquisitor, but the party was being captured one-by-one until I was the only one left. Brandishing my rapier, I did a full-on frontal assault right in the inquisitor's torture chamber.

Now, an inquisitor is undead, the kind of undead that you really should use blunt weapons against. But I went in anyways with my rapier. Not only that, but I was down to my last hit point.

Amazingly enough, I won the fight! Abosolutely no fudging by the DM.

Party rescued and back to the surface.

On the way to the surface, I met Inferana for the first time. A rather big female red dragon with more than a few children. She had some eggs and that was how I escaped her. I held one hostage until I could get away. She actually punched through 3' of stone in a last ditch effort to get me. Good thing I didn't hang on the egg or else she should have gotten all of us right then. Still, she now knew me and dragons can hold one helluva grudge.

----

A few years later, it was just Al and Zsordrin Black. Zsordrin a fighter male elf with some interesting delusions. His two-handed sword 'talks' to him and is named George. His battle cry was, "I'll cut you from crotch to crown!" And then he would procede to do it. Never backed down from a fight no matter the odds. He was crazy like that.

We were in a cave that had 3 of the Tablets of Fate. We were then attacked by a medusa and her husband. We got lucky and killed the medusa. However, her husband could phase through stone and was surpise attacking us over and over again before disappearing back into the stone.

In a last ditch effort, we smashed one of the Tablets of Fate. The resulting surge was tremendous. One thing it did was turn all of us into the opposite sex. This is how Al got turned into a woman. The husband also got turned into a female and lost his ability to stone phase. Battle over.

Then the purple worm attacked. Ugh!

----

During Al's and Zsordrin's travels, a few more enemies were made. One was Arebus, a greater or true bateezu or tanari or something. He didn't like us and we didn't like him. As a matter of fact, he was good friends with Inferana.

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So the Times of Troubles are upon us and we were plane hopping. Murkul made his move and we were on the outer-plane side of the gate. I managed to wipe-out a full third of his army, but it wasn't enough.

When we finally went through the gate and back to the prime, the fit had seriously hit the shan. The various gods had shown up and finished off Murkul.

For our part in the battle, weakening Murkul's army, the gods granted us a wish. Zsordrin wished for George to be +4 vorpal, which he got. I didn't wish for anything, but got married instead. During the whole time, I had managed to resurrect a dead god, and he showed up. I became his wife, harbinger, and avatar.

Just as things were almost ready to wind down, a gate opened up and Arebus stepped out. Zsordrin pointed his finger and shouted, "You!"

Arebus pointed his finger back and shouted as well, "You!"

Then they both rushed each other. Zsordrin won initiative and rolled a natural 20. With George now vorpal, the battle was over in the blink of an eye. Arebus wasn't happy about that.

That was one of the best fights ever.

----

A few months later, we went to one of my husband's old temples. Who was there? Inferana with one of her teenage kids. The punk kid bugged out leaving Inferana and I to do battle. I took on Inferana once again all by myself. We had skirmished several times before and we had never finished. We weren't going to finish this battle, either, but this time I actually got in her face and took her fire point-blank.

Getting in her face and taking her fire point-blank was a show of force on my behalf. Just to let her know that I was much stronger than the little punk that I once was when I held her egg hostage during our first encounter.

A few months later, I was in Undermountain and accidentally summoned Inferana. Took her fire point-blank yet again. She didn't want to stay in Undermountain, so she 'unsummoned' herself. The circumstances surrounding this encounter were extremely weird.

----

Between skirmishes with Inferana, I had fought an earth weird. It had been sent to make sure that we didn't get to my husband's throne to reclaim one of our engagement swords.

Once I got a bead on the earth elemental, I went air elemental. There we were, oppossing elemental forces duking it out. The first 10 rounds or so, neither of us hit the other. It was pretty nail-biting just waiting for damage to be dealt.

Then I got a natural 20. Rolling again because of our house rules, I got another natural 20. All told, I did almost 70 damage to the earth weird in one hit. It was like I flew into it's notrils and blew it inside-out.

(Edited by warjournal on 08-18-2005 21:03)

Swords, more than weapons

Al became good friends with a lich named Zander. He gave me information about things and we ran errands for him. For one of the errands he gave Al a long sword named Dancer. It was a helluva errand that we did for him that particular time.

In Zander's younger days, he and his party took on a red dragon (might have been Inferana, but I never found out for sure). Things went bad for them and Zander saved the party by imparting their souls into weapons. This is also when Zander begain his journey into lichdom. His bard friend, Dancer, got put into a long sword. The thief in the party, didn't know his name, was put into a dagger.

Dancer was, of course, a dancing sword. Besides dancing, he had a few other abilities that came in handy. Dancer and I became good friends.

Because I was always talking to Dancer, Zsordrin decided that his sword could talk to him. George, the normal and mundane two-handed sword was born. Zsordrin and George, of course, were the best of friends.

During our travels, I became aware of a dead elven god named Shaundical. His ethos was a perfect match for me. One of my favorite phrases was 'like the wind', and Shaundical was the god of wind. The similarities between me and Shaundical were . . . ungodly.

I was indirectly preaching the ways of Shaundical, and we were in his old domain. Because of my 'accidental' faith and being in his old domain, he started gaining strength and started manifesting in my life. One time he actually blessed me and I wiped out a bunch of ogres that would otherwise would have had us for dinner.

During that particular episode with the ogres, we found twin long swords, both +2. I named them Romulus and Remus.

In a slightly later adventure, we found Shaundical's throne. Just a stone throne set high up on a plateau that was nearly impossible to get to. But getting up there didn't prove much of a challenge to me because of my wind ethos. I said a quick little prayer and left Romulus on the throne. It was gift, and would later be seen as an engagement sword.

When Shaundical and I got married, he gave me a wedding sword named Shepard. This sword was a +4 defender. And there he was with Romulus by his side. Shepard saved my bacon more than once.

After Zsordrin and George decapited Arebus, Arebus decided to get nasty. Arebus managed to steal George and further enchant him. When Zsordrin finally got George back, he was in for a big surprise. George had been enchanted to do serious damage to Zsordrin whenever he weilded him in battle. And yet, Zsordin kept on going into battle with George. Yeah, crazy like that. If I remember correctly George was actually made intelligent with a hidden agenda imparted by Arebus.

Dancer, George, Romulus, Remus, and Shepard - all swords, and all just as good as a regular NPC.

(Edited by warjournal on 08-18-2005 21:41)

Babbling like this just plain relaxing. Kind of nice to take a different angle from the usual Photoshop stuff.


Temple of Fear

It was just my bud and I. To give him a break, decided that I would DM for awhile. My style is very loose and free-form. I prefer to set-up situations and characters and just let things happen. For example, one time there was an effret that was cheating on his fire giant wife with a minxy little fire elemental. No real plans for that situation to lead anywhere, but it turned out rather well.

My bud rolled up a militant wizard named Jar. One of his shining moments was when he led a group of goblins to victory. Man, that was funny.

So I decided to throw a bit of an opposite his way. A female priestess named Gale Greenshade. Pleasant, soft-spoken, and just plain nice. They did bicker about things, but it was never really serious and they got along rather well.

Then Malice joined the party for a bit. A human male fighter seeking to get away from his dwarven master. Malice could easily have defeated the dwarf, but the dwarf had Malice locked in fear of him.

The 3 of them came to a temple. Once inside, they were locked in. They didn't really know that it was a temple, let alone a temple of what. It was a temple of fear and set up much like a wax museum. Each room was very different and expressed a fear of past victims. One room was a bathroom with a ghostly little kid drowning in the tub. Things like that, and always at the edge of perception. Freaky.

Malice was the first to go. The dwarf that he was so afraid of showed up and beat him down. It was brutal, and Malice was actually crying. Easy enough.

But what about Jar and Gale?

I decided that Gale was most afraid of being out of contact with her god. So, in the temple, she was no longer in contact with her god. She couldn't cast spells and she knew her prayers couldn't be heard. It really started getting to her.

She finally broke down and told Jar that she couldn't continue without her god. She would rather commit suicide to be released from the temple - even though suicide was not good in her ethos. Would suicide indeed reunite her with her god? Or would the consequences be dire? It was chance she was willing to take. Jar tried to plead, but it got him nowhere.

She drew her dagger and killed herself. She died in Jar's arms.

He looked up and said, "I'm all alone." He sat there for around 5 minutes just stewing in his own misery. Then the temple doors open up. He walked out.

After that, I asked him what his fear was. He told me that was indeed to be alone. This was something that he decided on when he made his character. I can't believe it worked out so gut-wretchingly well. Without a doubt, one of the best adventures I have ever ran.

The consequences of Gale committing suicide were indeed dire. She is lost and haunting Jar. Every now and then, he'll catch a glimpse of her in a dream or in a reflection, wordlessly pleading for his help.

Oh yes indeedy, there are players here. Myself and Perfet Thunder, in fact, although Perfect Thunder is, in fact, the GM. We play The Dragonhunt, a game and story line totally devised by perfect Thunder, and a whole lotta fun to play. All our logs are there, go have a read and enjoy.


Justice 4 Pat Richard

PT is the DM? For some reason I was thinking it was Webs.

Okay, not really full story, but just some funny stuff that happened to Al when she was on the lamb.

We were in Waterdeep just chilling. We made it back to the prime with a massive airship, which we had stolen from the bad guys during a war. Once back in Waterdeep, we sold it for bunches of money and bought our own house.

There was a cavalier named Drum in the party and he was LG. I, being a vigilante incarnate, was CG. That little difference in our alignments showed through very well in our role-playing. He and I were on the same track, but we were constantly bickering about motives and methods.

One particular night he got on my case about being female. Not being the kind of woman to take that trash talk from a male, I turned him into a woman when he wasn't looking. That made for an interesting morning during breakfast.

Anyways, I (Al), starting waking in in weird places where a crime had been committed. Some very high-profile thefts and very high-profile assassinations. These were things that only someone with my skills and talents could have pulled off, and the evidence definitely pointed towards me. To prevent myself from committing more crimes, I actually broke into a high security prison to spent the night, but that proved useless.

A lot of people were looking for me, including the infamous Khelben Blackstaff. I most definitely needed to get out of town to sort things out. Bounty hunters to the right of me . . . bounty hunters to the left . . .

During my midnight jaunts, my dreams were being haunted by a female half-elf with strawberry blonde hair. She was expressing extreme anger at me and she felt the need to get revenge for some reason. Not anyone I had ever met.

The gates were covered rather well, and the skies were being patrolled. So I left town by turning into a fish and swimming right out of the bay. Suckers!

Turns out one famous bounty hunter was smart enough to camp outside of town and he managed to pick up my trail. Not good.

My first attempt to lose him was Haste. But he just happened to have a griffin mount and he could keep up with me no problem. When I saw him chasing from above, I cast Fly and confronted him in mid-air. At this point, he wasn't too worried because he could fly as well. Since he had managed to track me down where others have failed and because he had already proven that he could keep up with me, his confidence was rather high.

Then he went into some speech about how he was going to take me in because he was smart and had the skills and stuff. I must admit that I was rather flattered as I had heard of this guy before. However, he was still a punk and I wasn't having it.

After his speech, I basically told him to fuck off and leave me alone because he couldn't handle a woman like me. Being slighted and not liking it, he drew his bow and fired some arrows at me while I just hovered there. The arrows, being dead-on, still didn't hit me because of my Inertial Barrier.

Then I winked at him and cast Invisibility. I was flying, I had my barrier on, and was invisible. No way he was going to track me now. I flew around him just long enough to see his jaw drop and mumble some obscenities to himself. Then he flew back to Waterdeep with his ego in shreds.

With my tracks finally covered and tails lost, I landed and headed north to an old friend to see if she could help me. On my solo journey, I was using Magic Missile to hunt small game. Some ranger saw me doing this and just had to protest. That was one of the funniest conversations Al has ever had.

I never did make it to her place. Through some strange twists that I don't really remember, I ended up back with the party. Once together again, the strawberry blonde sucked all of us into her own dimension. Game on.

In previous adventure, Al got pregant by a handsome elven captain. It was a passing thing and stuff happens. Ya know? This was prior to my marriage to Shaundical.

Shortly after finding out that I was pregnant, we ended up in Ravenloft. Like and idiot, during a fight with the Lord of the Land, I cast Haste on myself and gave birth on the spot. As if being in Ravenloft wasn't enough. The Lord saw her opportunity and kidnapped my daughter, Corey Salseakin (slightly odd story behind the name).

Had to abandon Corey in Ravenloft. Seriously sucked, but I wouldn't find out later just how much.

Later, back in Waterdeep, only a few weeks had passed for Al. However, Corey had grown up as an evil druidess in Ravenloft and wanted revenge on her mother for abandoning her. One of her powers granted by her was was the ability to possess me across dimensions. It was Corey that had been making me do all of those heinous things.

So there we were, in a cursed land of Ravenloft, with an angry daughter looking to kill everybody. Eventually the land was shared by Corey and I. Each of us seeking the other, but cursed to never reconcile.

That was when I pulled the greatest prank ever on Drum. It was a mean prank, but it totally rocked.

--------

There we were in Ravenloft. It was a jungle theme with several tribes. However, the living conditions were atrocious. No clean water, bugs everywhere, and game was extremely scarce. Sure it was a jungle, but this was just nasty.

We hung out with one of the tribes and learned more about the land through tales and prophecies. It was fore-told that a female elf with blond hair (me) would be sacrificed to the strawberry druidess to lift the curse. In this manner, Corey would have her revenge and things would be good. But this was Ravenloft and things don't work that way.

Drum, being the cavalier that he was, didn't want to see me get sacrificed. We didn't get along the greatest, but he was a cavalier after all. He wanted another option to settle things.

As time wore on, I started becoming a Lord. Corey was already a Lord, and I was becoming her counter-part Lord. I found out that I was being granted powers by the land. There was one power in particular that allowed me to prank Drum like you wouldn't believe.

We were sitting about the campfire talking things over. I finally got the fed up and told Drum to kill me to end the curse and free the people.

Al: Drum, just kill me. I will go willingly to lift the curse.
Drum: No, I don't think so.
Al: Yes, just kill me.
Drum: Are you serious?
Al: Absolutely serious. I can't let these people live like this simply because I'm alive.

He needed a little more convincing that I was sincere, but he saw that I was, his eyes lit up.

Drum: They will sings songs about me for lifting the curse!
~Drum, he killed the bitch
~Drum, he saved the people
~Drum, our mighty savior!

He was stalling as he didn't really want to kill me, but eventually conceded.

I got down on my knees and leaned forward to expose me neck. He spit in his hands, rubbed them together, and drew his basterd sword +4 vorpal (yes, another vorpal weapon). He checked on last time if I was sure, and told him to go ahead, and he swung a mighty blow on my neck with a vorpal weapon.

Oddly enough, all his swing did was put my face in the dirt. Not a scratch on my neck! I got up, looked at him, pointed my finger, and started laughing hysterically.

The power that I had been granted was that I could not be harmed by weapons not of the Land. Had he broken a branch from a tree he could have bludgeoned me to death, but his sword was prime and could do me no harm.

Man, was he pissed, but such was our relationship. All of his checking, double-checking, and songs of valor were for naught.

The next day, Al killed the party and took the basterd sword. It sucked, but had to be done. Now it was just Al and Corey to forever hunt each other and never reconcile.

But one day, and evil and angry half-elf named Malici came to the land...

If you can believe it, Al also has a son. His name is Mordrid Black (surname after his father). That was another bad deal. Mordrid isn't as powerful as Corey, but he is wandering the lands and looking for me.

The name Mordrid Black is a bit of a joke if you are familiar with the legend of King Arthur.

Man, how do we come up with this stuff?

Back to Darren and that party for a bit.

Darren is a half-elf male wizard/thief. Very feminine fellow. Then there is Que, the female elf fighter/wizard. The guy that was playing Thud dumped on us, which only mildly sucks.

So Que and I hooked up with an army that attacked the yuan-ti community. The yuan-ti summoned a sharn and the army lost around 66% of it's men. It was nasty. Because of the sharn's unique abilities, it was raining body parts on the army outside to demoralize them. Yeah, very nasty. But the leader of ther army, Admund the Delusional of Alexandria, saw it as a victory.

During the march back to Alexandria, we were attacked by a small family of wyvern. Que took a nasty hit and was poisoned with type f. Um, that's like death and immediate or something. Being the hyper-intelligent herbalist that I am, the DM allowed me to arrest the process with an exceptional roll, which I barely made. Que is in very nasty condition and will most certaintly die within 48 hours on the outside.

The nearest town was 9 days away by horse. Even with Fly, no way I was going to make it. Even then, no way I could carry Que or bring back help in time. So I cast Fly anways and started searching for a recluse in the woods that may be able to help. After all, while we were with the army, we heard stories of someone named Larluke the Unblinking that lives in the woods. Worth a shot to save Que.

Early the next morning I did find a slightly hidden mausoleum in the Deep Shadow Forest. Words of caution written in an ancient tongue and lots of human bones scattered all over the place.

I went inside and kept announcing my presence as I went. Might sound stupid, but I didn't want to offend with sneaky-sneaky tactics. The first room past the antechamber was a small study of some sort. Looked like someone had set up shop in this room to guard and do research. No good to me as everything was old beyond use.

Then I went downstairs. Oh, man. There is a semi-circle of ancient runes on the floor near the wall. In the semi-circle is an altar with a skull sitting on it. As I approached, the runes started to glow and the skull animated. Oh, shit. Not good... or is it?

Not knowing what I was about experience, I kept my mouth shut. I kept thinking to myself, "Dumathoin, keep my mouth shut. Dumathoin, keep my mouth shut." This tactic worked damned well.

After a few moments, the skull spoke first. "You have disturbed my slumber... place your books upon my altar..."

I kept up the Dumathoin pause just long enough for him to almost repeat himself. Still without a word, I pulled out a book and placed on his altar. The book lifted up, opened, and he read the whole thing in a mere moments. When the book came to a rest on his altar, I took and put another book down. When he was done with that, I let him read the third and last book that I had.

Man, talk about a leap of faith - not just with my own silence, but in trusting his personal space with my books, especially since one was my very own spellbook. I did remain outwardly calm and respectful, but I was most definitely shitting my breeches.

When he was done reading my books, I told him of my plight with the wyvern poison. I kept it rather concise and to the point. At that point, we struck a bit of deal. He would tell me where to find the information that I need (and not kill me on the spot), and I would ferret him more books and/or information.

Great. I just became bed-fellows with demi-lich. Hopefully I can keep our relationship on the up-and-up. As long as we stick to mutual exchange of information, shouldn't be a problem. If he makes a move to use me to ressurect himself, I might be in trouble.

This whole thing has me thinking about a few things. Considering the land we are in, I most certaintly have to learn more about necromancy, and who a better teacher than a demi-lich? I've got him all to myself, which is good because this land has very tight information control. Maybe I can 'trick' Larluke into giving necromatic information in the guise of wanting to become a lich myself, but really using the necromatic arts to protect myself from him.

Then there is the Library of Alexandria angle. They are the ones that control wizardly information. Larluke wants in, but they don't want him. If they knew that Larluke was still 'alive', they might send a few to finish him off. Imagine that. If I get lucky, I might be able to act as liason between Larluke and the Library while keeping both largely in the dark. Hopefully I'll be able to find a decent person to talk to in Alexandria.

We are thinking about seaching for the gate that goes back to our own world. Since Lance is dead, there is no real reason for me/us to stay. It would suck to leave Pendulum to the hordes, but that's the way it goes sometimes. But now that I know Larluke, I'm thinking we'll stick around for awhile.

So many more thoughts.

Here are some excerpts from our NWN Campaign.

Dor and Magpie finally Reach a Shore

Magpie:
"You nearly drowned me, you idiot!"

Dor:
"Wot? Me! Tis was ye, girl, that kept a draggin' an me breeches."

"Britches? you call these rags britches?"

"As if ah hadn't nuff problems wit da waves an' such" *glares*

Magpie grunts

"You be no high lady yerself, Wot wit that stink on ya. Why were ya in da hold, anywas, huh?
*suspicious look*
"All trussed up, like some game hen"
*spits to side*

Magpie starts disentangling her hair and turns away abruptly, not without shooting an angry look to her life saver.

"Yeah, thought so", he mumbles.
*looks around*
?We be gettin' sick, and right so, witout a fire. ?
Stay here.
*moves off into the underbrush*

"Instead of babbling you better go find some wood, because that's what i'll do!"
She mumbles: "Peasants..."

Dor moves quietly through the underbrush, occasionally stopping, picking up pieces of wood that were mostly dry, and sticking them under his heavy cloak. The rain was still coming down in sheets, soaking everything, and then Dor saw it - a lightning blasted tree, an old oak from the looks of it.
A huge hole had been burned out of the side by the strike, making for a perfect refuge
*pokes head from out of a thorny bush*
"Get yer legs amovin, ah found a dry place"
*disappears into the underbrush*

"What makes that idiot think he's in charge and i'll follow him"
*mumbles to herself but runs after the man*

Later, in relative dryness, the small fire casting some warm, and a scrawny rabbit on a spit wafting delicous smells, Dor relaxed a bit, and took off his soaked boots and breeches.
"Ah be sayin', you do best git out of those there wet things"
"Here, this moss will dry you good" *hands a heap of moss to Mag*
*Pats himself down with Moss*

Mag backs away in disgust

"It be your burial"
*goes back to drying himself off with the moss.

"I won't undress in front of you and I won't drape myself with dirt" Mag scowls.

"Hear me good. Korumver may be a kind God, but dead is dead.
An I no particlar want ta be dead. Not just yet, anyhow"
*eyes Mag levelly*
"Now, ah suggist ya dry yaself. Afta all, I no be savin ya scrawny hide, fer ya ta get sick an croak"

Drips of fat from the rabbit slowly fell into the small fire, causing it to hiss.

"That there cooney is lookin' good"
*pulls out some wild lettice, and herbs that he had found along the way, while hunting the rabbit*

Mag is shivering but cannot turn her view from the rabbit.

"Taint's a king's meal an' all, but it will 'ave ta tdo, inna pinch"

"Turn around!" She commands.

Dor rasies an eyebrow. "Wot fer?" *suspicious glare*

"Like i said i won't undress before your eyes!"

*absently fingers chest*
"An' I be sayin' it be a trick!
As soon as I but turn, ya be stabbin' me an so! Dor no be a woolhead, ya hear?
Tha be a reason, ya bein' all trussed up an so, me be thinkin'"

*rolls eyes*
"No i'm gonna choke you with that dirty old moss you want me to wear."
"Didn't your mom teach you manners?"

*considers*
"Ah no be sayin' ya wear it, lass. Ya be needin' ta dry ya rags an' so"
*Angry glare*
"Don't be talikin' bout me mudder, ya rat!"

"Oh."
*she blushes but regains her composure quickly*
"You could have told me!"

"Shudda left ya ta drink salt tea wit da mermaids an so!"

Mag goes "phhhh"

"Wot ya be thinkin' it for, huh?"

She tries to dry her wet garments but isn't too successful.
"Don't stand there staring, you better apply some to the back of my shirt!"

"Oh fer cryin' out loud! Don' ya know anyting?" *rolls eyes* "Gim here!"

She turns her back on Dor

*roughly takes wet clothes, and sets about putting them on sticks thrust into the dark loam of the old, dead tree trunk*
"An so, this one here, an so, that one here, see?"
*brushes off a cobweb from side of head absentmindedly, the spider that was in it rapidly climbing it's safety webstring*
*takes out dagger*

*begins to cut some bark from the outside of the treetrunk*
"Here, da be fer eatin' on an so"
*Begins to rub the herbs into the now browning rabbit*
"Tis too bad we no be havin' a pinch o salt or so" *sad look*
"An we be havin' but one waterskin"
*considers carefully*
"Dor be thinkin', ya no be good fer da wildes, lassy"

Outside, the rain begins to pour down again, and lightning streaks across the dark night, and loud booms of thunder echo through the dark woods*

Magpie stares absentmindedly into the fire. "What's your name anyway?"

*Looks back from looking outside* "I be called Dor"
*turns back to looking outside*
"Talos be kickin' up a fit, me be thinkin'"

With some effort she mumbles: "Guess I gotta thank you for saving my skin, Dor."

*glances at Mag, grunts*
"Aye, that do be true, lassy. But we no be safe yet"

"Don't lassie me, I'm Mag...
*thinks better*
I'm Megan."

"This here wood, it no feel right, see?"
"Me be thinkin, there be worse than jus cold an wet innit"

"Woods..." Mag snorts.
"I won't be feeling safe until I feel decent pavement under the soles of my boots"

*spits on ground*
"Taint no place for Dor. Give me a fire an a bit o brew, an I be happy"
*looks wistfully*
"Ah, a bit o brew, that would be nice. That be shakin' that cold an wet right out me bones"
*sigh*
"Maggie, you say? Wot ya be doin' inna ship's hold, huh? All trussed up, like ta be a present or so"

The smell of the roasting rabbit fills the hollow treetrunk

"Ah, tis be ready" *licks lips in anticipation*
*begins to cut the rabbit into pieces, steam rising from the cocked meat*
*hands piece of bark with roasted rabbit meat and a few tubers on it, with some wild lettice on the side*
*Attacks his rabbit with gusto, fingers greasy with fat*

"I got framed, but that's none of your business; and it's Me - gan not Maggie."
*accepts the food*
"Thank you."

*Dor grunts from between bites of hot roasted rabbit*

They eat in silence while the Storm outside becomes worse.





Footnote:
This Convo has been extracted from an IC MSN-Chat Webshaman and I had in the morning. Cheers
Profile: Aliktren Stoutbow Send Message: Aliktren Stoutbow Post Reply and Quote Message

The Morning After

Dor awoke with a start. His eyes searched the confines of the hollow tree quickly. The fire had died down, letting off a faint glow from the embers that illuminated erything faintly red.

Megan seemed to be sleeping, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest confirmed this.

What had caused Dor to awake, then? He couldn't puzzle that out, and there wouldn't be any sleeping again until he had, so he slowly and silently arose and stole from the hollow tree into the pre-dawn dark after silently slipping into his now dry breeches and cloak. Unnoticed to him, Megan had cracked opened one eye and watched his going with interest.

The Storm had abated, with just a bit of wind witness to its passing. Everything was damp, which made Dor's going easier, though an untrained foot would have slipped on the wet mosses and slick stones many times over.

Dor glided from one dark spot to another, sliding between the twigs and branches, making as little noise as possible. There was a strange scent in the air, an acrid scent that rose above the salty sea air. Dor followed it to the sea shore.

The greying light of the coming dawn showed little detail, but Dor could see debris from the ship dotting the shore line from out from under the bush that he was lying under. That, and movement. Figures were moving along the shore, stopping here and there to bend down at the spots where debris could be seen.

Strange figures. A faint hissing sound reached Dor's ears, and the acrid scent grew stronger, carried on the winds.

Dor remained where he was, concealed by the bushes. Drops of moisture from the rains before fell from the leaves onto Dor's neck, running down his back in chilly races, but Dor held still. One of the figures moved casually up the beach, nearer and nearer to where Dor was concealed. The hissing sounds, and the acrid smell grew stronger. Finally, Dor could make it out.

It was a lizardman! Dor had never seen one before, but
recognized it from the fireside tales told among the men of the Astorian Forest Raiders.

The lizardman was large, very large, Dor could see. It had greenish scales all over its body, a forked tongue, black beady eyes and rippling muscles under the scaly hide. It carried a crude wooden club in one clawed hand, and what looked like a human arm in the other, apparently ripped off of its owner.

Occasionally, the lizardman raised the arm to its mouth and bit off a chunk, swallowing the piece of flesh whole, without chewing. Inbetween bites, it made a string of strange, lilting hissing sounds, apparently communicating with the others, pointing here and there with the club. A large necklace of seashells hung from its muscular neck, here and there hung with a shark's tooth. The lizardman seemed to glisten in the pre-dawn light, apparently some sort of oil was rubbed on its scales. The acrid smell became very strong as the lizardman neared. This is what had awoken Dor. As luck would have it, a particularly strong breeze had brought the smell directly into the hollow tree. Silently praising Tymora for this bit of luck, Dor slowly began to worm his way back, remaining as quiet as possible. He had counted 10 of the lizardmen, and that was 10 too many for Dor's tastes. But among the debris would be weapons and supplies, things that he badly needed. Survival depended on it.

Dor decided that he needed help. And Megan owed him one, anyway, for saving her life. Time to repay that debt, thought Dor. He stole swiftly back in the direction to the Hollow Tree, checking the rabbit snare that had been so successful yesterday. It had again been successful. A soft smile graced Dor's lips swiftly, and he removed the rabbit from the snare and reset it. At least breakfast was saved.

Dor made certain that his tracks were covered and that he left no trace to follow, before returning to the Hollow Tree.

The morning was over.
Profile: Aliktren Stoutbow Send Message: Aliktren Stoutbow Post Reply and Quote Message
Aliktren Stoutbow
Owner

Joined: 05 Nov 2003
From: UK
Profile: Wednesday, 11 May 2005 10:14PM
A Walk in the Morning

She had been awake for some time when Dor left. The sounds of the animals, unfamiliar to her ears had woken her up. She sniffed the air and decided the forest wasn?t better than the city. If this was the smell of the wild then she clearly preferred living next to a tannery.

He lay snoring, facing her. The early morning light allowed her to study his features. She realised he was younger than she had thought the night before. After a shave he might even look handsome.

She let the last two days pass before her inner eye and offered a thankful prayer to Tymora. She had really been lucky; the godess had smiled on her. And with some extra effort she would certainly be able to persuade this bloke to take her to the next settlement.

When Dor got up and snuck out her heart sank. She could feel fear creep up on her.
?He?s gonna leave and let me rot here.?
As soon as he was out of sight she went after him and let her ears lead her.

He was good but she could hear him move just the same. He stopped near the beach and seemed to observe something down at the waterline. She could not see what it was and cursed under her breath. After some time he went back in his tracks, carefully wiping out every trace he had made.
Something was wrong, she felt it in her guts. But at least he was on his way back to the tree.

?Good boy? she smiled ,?you don?t let Mags down.?

Quickly and without a sound she scurried back to the fireplace, choked the smoking embers with sand and waited for Dor to arrive.

Here is an actual log from a NWN Campaign game that we had - edited a bit (by me).

Beginnings and Endings

The sight of the city walls was a joy to Dor, as he and Megan broke from the forest edge and made for the city gates in a trot. Something had picked up their trail in the forest, and though Dor had his suspicions as to what it was, they had not waited around for it to find them, but had pressed on, Megan having spied a little-used path that had lead in the direction of the city.

They soon reached the gates, and Megan threw a concerned look at Dor, and exclaimed "Finally, this looks like a half-civilised settlement! How's your arm doing?"

Dor clenched his jaws tightly against the pain coming from his shoulder, and mumbled "Me arm, 'tis na so good, Megan"

They both hailed the Gate guard, who eyed the two bedraggled figures suspiciously, and seemed hesitant to open the gate. After first explaining their situation, did the guard reluctantly open the gate and let them in.

The sounds and smells of the city of Fenar'Fai hit Dor's senses hard, and that combined with the pain of his shoulder and the exertion of the past days, caused Dor's head to spin. He noticed a woman inside of the gate. He carreened towards her, and put on his best behavior.

"Hail, an' be praised ta yer", he said "Ah be lookin' fer someone ta heal me arm, would yer be aknownin' someone ta likes o such?"

The woman smiled, answering "Welcome to Fenar'Fai. I believe I know of one, yes."

The relief on Dor's face was apparent.

The woman continued "I am Riannon, a priestess of the Moonmaiden. I can help you".

Dor gulped. "Tha, tha Moonmaiden, yer be sayin'?" He worriedly shot a glance at Megan, but she seemed undistrubed by this.

Rhiannon asked "What has happened?" with a touch of concern in her voice.

After a short explaination of the last couple of days, and introductions, Rhiannon replied "You are blessed to be alive." She continued in a stern voice "The lizards attack this village from time to time, as well."

Dor had the feeling that she genuinely meant this and was concerned about it, and felt a bit confused and out of place. He glanced again at Megan, but she also seemed to be accepting of this Lady in the service of the Moon.

Dor swallowed uncomfortably, and said something to cover it.

"Aye, 'tis Megan ta thank, me be thinkin', he replied, slowly rubbing his jaw and glancing at Megan half-respectifully.

It was true, without her help and resourcefulness, he would have been more worse for the wear, if not dead, Dor realized.

Rhiannon replied "I hope they are not preparing for another attack."

At this time, they were interrupted by the appearance of another.

"Ah, so. More Vagabonds. I don't know what twist of Tymora's knickers brought us all to wash up in this spot. I'm Ignacio."

Dor took an instant dislike to the stranger, but was distracted by Rhiannon.

"Is your arm badly wounded?", she said to Dor.

Dor turned to Rhiannon, and said "Tis a bit o a bump anna shoulder, an' so, I do be thinkin', it be outa place an' such"

Rhiannon reached out her hands, and placed them on Dor's shoulder. A rush of icy energy shot through Dor's body, causing him to gasp out, his eyes widening.

"Is that better?" asked Rhiannon.

Dor was almost panicky.

"Tha do be spellcastin' an' such, wot?", he gasped, his eyes widening.

Rhiannon replied "In a way, but my power is from the divine. The goddess Selune."

The corner of Dor's eyes caught Megan drawing her blade, and he turned his attention quickly in her direction. He noticed that Megan and the stranger seemed to be in a heated discussion of some sort, and moved in Megan's direction, catching a bit of Ignacio's words.

"But if you don't ship that pigsticker, I might have to take it away from you."

Megan did so, but kept her eyes on Ignacio.

"That's better", he replied.

A short exchange of insults passed between Dor and Ignacio, and the air was tense.

Then Rhiannon spoke up, as if nothing had happened.

"Perhaps some rest at the Inn here, and a drink or two?", she let fall, questioningly.

The two stared at each other, then Dor turned to Rhiannon, and Ignacio announced

"I will join you at the Inn shortly, Rhiannon", and turned and strode off.

Dor shot Megan a dark, questioning glance, but she seemed to be in good spirits with the mention of the Inn, so he dropped it.

They all proceeded to the Inn. Dor rubbed his shoulder cautiously, but the pain was gone. He rolled the shoulder, testing for tenderness, but there was none. He glanced at Rhiannon uncomfortably.

"Me thanks an' such, Lady...me arm, it do be better an' all" he blurted out, his face reddening.

She just smiled, and held the door to the Inn open.

"After the two of you", she said, with a smile.

Dor wasn't sure how to react to this show of humanity, of kindness, of goodness. He decided that he would humor her further.

"An' tha first drink, it do be on me. Shall we?" he gestured.

Rhiannon eyed the two briefly, said something under her breath, and went inside.

Megan eyed Dor, and said, "I need a drink" and proceeded into the Inn, Dor following after her.

Inside the Inn, there were a few patrons, and the air reeked of old ale, and smoke from the open fireplace. There were more guests in a nearby corner, who waved at the newcomers and greeted them all, waving for them to have a seat.

Dor raised his voice,"Yer be talkin' ta us, or so? Well, hail an' all that lot ta yer", he answered suspiciously.

Rhiannon seemd to know them, however, and beamed a smile at the strangers.

They all proceeded to the table, and took seats. Ignacio entered the Inn, and joined them at the table. The hired help came by, and took orders of ale and hot pies. The woman at the table introduced herself.

"I am Isabeau, pleased to meet you", she said, politely. Dor gazed at her a bit uneasily, his experienced eye taking in the calused hand, and the worn pommel of her sword. A warrior, he calculated silently.

A bit of small talk and introductions followed, that was shortly broken up by the arrival of food and drink. All reached for hot pie and ale on the table. Another stranger joined them, standing up from a stool in the corner and approaching their table. He spoke in some sing-song language with Ignacio. Dor caught a few words, but soon gave up and turned his attention back to the conversation between Rhiannon and Isabeau. Something about hiring...money.

Ignacio asked "Lizards? What lizards? There are lizards attacking?" apparently in reaction to what Rhiannon and Isabeau had spoken about.

Dor asked "Wait, yer be ahiring, an' such, Lady?" of Rhiannon, but before she could answer, Megan gave a start and drew her blade.

Dor jumped up in alarm "Wot issit, girl!", he stated in a concerned tone, his hands going for his twinswords.

She shook her head and mumbled "Sorry, I must have napped" in an abashed voice as the others stared at her, in surprise, and slowly started to re-sheathed her blade.

Rhiannon admonished lightly "No weapons, please".

Dor flushed in anger "Blood an' ashes, lassie! Yer canna be jus' ahoppin' an' such inna tavern wit tha blade drawn!", withdrawing his hands from his own blades.

Ignacio watched, and changed the subject lightly,

"Well then, let's get out of this codswallop of a village before they get any closer", he suggested.

Rhiannon, Dor, and Ignacio broke out into a heated conversation over the lizardmen. A man approached the table, introducing himself as Hyden, and frowned at the mention of lizardmen.

"What this o' lizards?", he asked in a gruff voice. He goes on, growing more and more morose with the information about the lizardmen, the wreck of the ship, and what seems to be a lighthouse of some sort.

"'Tis not right that no ships come. Somit has gone wrong. Could you all go and check on the lighthouse?", he asked, fraught with fear.

All seemed ready to go, but Dor wasn't about to go without a bit of coin for his troubles.

"Mebbie we could be alookin' inna lighthause an' such
fer ya...fer o bit o gold...", he said, rubbing his jaw slowly.

Hyden dashed his hopes, saying "I can offer ye little coin sir...there's no trade from
the sea..and there's precious little coin here..though you could seek out
the mayor"

Rhiannon smoothly spoke up "Will I need to pay for your .... company?"

Dor looked abashed, let out a long breath "Na, Lady, Ah reckon not."

The others stood up from the table, and all began to make their way to the door.

Outside, they made their way to the gaet, Ignacio pausing to aske the guardsman about the direction to the Mire, where the lighthouse was located. He glanced over at Rhiannon.

"Rhiannon, are you commanding this rag-tag lot?" he asked, studying her closely.

She answered smoothly "If need be...for now, let us see what is at the lighthouse", calmly but firmly accepting the role of leader.

"Looks like the "Mire" is this way. Though how they can tell the difference between the "Mire" and the village is beyond me", replied Ignacio, apparently accepting Rhiannon's leadership.

The rest seemed to, as well, including Dor, and they all moved through the city gates, in the direction of the swamp. After about an hour's walk, they came to the Mire, Dor noticed the fetid smell in the air, and thick flies buzzed in the air.

Dor spoke up "Any acha be havin' experince wit a mire?" he asked questioningly.

"Ifn not, tha do be alistenin', see" he continued, unfazed by Ignacio's apparent ignoring of him.

"Tha be sinkholes an' wot, sure ta suck yer unda. An' tha be leeches so long like yer arm an' such" he stated, looking at each in the party.

Maggie swatted at a mosquito.

"An lots o tha greens be a ichin' an' a poison an' such, aye, ah do be atellin' yers", said Dor, with a serious tone.

The party moved off into the fetid waters of the swamp, the croaking of frogs, the buzzing of flies filling the air. Bird calls rang out, and the plopping of things into water could be heard. It was a hot day, and the humidity was almost unbearable. Sweat started to run down Dor's back as he moved through the water with a smooth, slow pace, his experienced eyes picking out dangerous spots.

A viper struck out from under a plant, and was quickly struck down by Ignacio, who had taken the lead. His elven eyes were very sharp, spotting a number of dangers, and some ruins in the distance. Dor acknowledged Ignacio grudgingly.

Suddenly, Ignacio disappeared behind a fallen tree, signalling danger. Dor notched an arrow, his eyes searching the undergrowth.

The rest of the party tensed, and looked in all directions, as Ignacio signalled that something was to the left, as with a roar, a huge Owlbear broke from cover and charged the party, it's huge beak clacking open and shut!

"By tha gods! It do be an Owlbear!", shouted Dor, loosening an arrow.

The next few seconds was a confusing whirl of combat, as Ignacious engaged the beast, his thin blade flickering here and there, the elf dancing fluidly just out of the reach of the Owlbear. Isabeau drew her sword, and rushed the Owlbear, her blade held high. The bat familiar of Selvynn flew straight into the face of the Owlbear, and it roared in rage, swiping at the bat. A huge claw ripped the bat into shreds, and Selvynn cried out, grief-stricken,

"NO!!! THALA!!!!"

As Megan loosed an arrow at the back of the raging beast, striking it under the left shoulderblade. The Owlbear made a strange sound, and coughed blood through its beak. Ignacio saw his chance, and took it, his slim blade sliding into the chest of the Owlbear easily, as he fluidly slipped between the massive arms of the Owlbear. Isabeau thrust her sword deeply into the underbelly of the beast. The Owlbear convulsed, and Dor unleashed another arrow, it thudding into the mass of the thing.

A last shudder, and the Owlbear went down.

"A whatbear?", questioned Ignacio, wiping off his blade.

Rhiannon examined the beast up close "The beak...", shuddering.

A short argument ensued between Dor and Selvynn, Dor admonishing the man about taking such an animal into a dangerous environment like a swamp.

Suddenly Rhiannon shouted.

"OH!"
"There is someone ahead on the ground", Isabeau pointed out.

"Poor devil", added Ignacio.

The figure on the path ahead was not dead, however, and Rhiannon beant down, administering to her. She pushed a potion to the female's lips, and poured the contents into her mouth.

Ignacio kept slipping into and out of the shadows, moving about. Dor glared at him, irritatingly. Tha fool is likes ta git ourselves killed, Dor muttered under his breath.

The female sat up, drawing Dor's attention. She was scantily dressed, and Dor felt his ears burning, and looked away.

The female spoke,

"I...I will go with you."

After a short but useless attempt to get her to wear clothes, Dor gave up, trying not to glance in her direction. Rhiannon gathered the party together, and got them all moving again. Ignacio took the lead, his sharp elven eyes and senses coming in handy, pointing out vipers on the side of the trail many times. Megan shot one that got too close, pinning the head to a tree-trunk.

Suddenly Dor stopped, realizing what the new female was. He had heard of such creatures around the campfire, but had not thought that such tales were true - a Nymph!

He gaped at Threnody.

"Tha...tha no be possible...Ah do be meanin' ah no be thinkin' ah be aseein' such...me fatter do be asyin'..", he stuttered, then stole his gaze away from her.

"Tha do be awitchin' an' so", he said warningly.

Rhiannon waved them onwards, and Ignacio scouted the path northwards. A Jaguar shot out from the underbrush, and ambushed the elf. Ignacio barely managed to twist aside, avoiding the main assualt, but a raking of the claws did rend his side. Isabeau rushed the cat with drawn blade, delivering blow after blow. The Jaguar retreated from her advance, and Dor unleashed a hail of arrows, followed by Megan. Rhiannon rushed the Jaguar, and was caught with a clawed paw. Isabeau slipped her blade between the Jaguar's breast, piercing its heart. A growl, and it slumped to the ground.

"Good shot!", praised Ignacio.

Dor eyed the Jaguar sadly, and gave a quick passing ritual.

"We do be ahonoring yer goin'", he said, kneeling by the great cat's head.

After seeing to Rhiannon's injuries, the party proceeded on. Ignacio was his usual self, darting about here and there, slipping in and out of the shadows, scouting ahead. Finally, the party reached a drier and less humid part of the swamp, and the rain stopped. They were near the edge of the swamp, apparently.

Suddenly, a Lizardman appeared as if out of nowhere, taking the party by surprise.

"Blood an' ashes!", exclaimed Dor.
All had drawn weapons, and had surrounded the Lizardman. But after the initial shock, the Lizardman belayed their concerns, and it turned out that it wasn't dangerous. In fact, it was quite friendly, and was interested in finding allies in helping kill some other lizardmen. After a short conversation, the party agreed to seek these evil lizardmen out and kill them. The lizardman scout To'rkak led the party to a small encampment of lizardmen, who were dispatched in a surprise attack swiftly by the party.

After a short pause, the party continued on to the lighthouse.

Dor found that his admiration for Megan's skills growing, and he became a bit uneasy about the bound between them. He didn't like feeling bound to something, let alone another person.

He turned his thoughts to the party, unwilling to think about the consequences of pursuing his thoughts on Megan further. Rhiannon lead with a natural talent, much like his father had, he realized. His irritation with the elf, Ignacio was dimming, the elf had Tymora's eye, there was no denying that! The speller Selvynn was annoying, and Dor thought that he wouldn't stand much of a chance of surviving if separated from the group. Isabeau had proven to be a good warrior, and Dor eyed her approvingly. Steadfast and strong, she would not run from a standup fight. The Nymph still caused a shudder to run down his spine, but Rhiannon seemed to think she was ok, and who was Dor to tell her different?

The party followed To'rkak, and Dor could not help but wonder, where the lizardman was leading them. He glanced over at Megan, and suddenly realized that whatever happened, she would watch his back, and he hers. It was a confusing feeling, familiar and strange, all at once.

Dor shook his head, and concentrated on the surroundings. They weren't out of the swamp yet, and danger lurked all around.

Na time ta be a woolhead, Dor, he said to himself. He checked his gear one last time, and continued after the others.

NOTE - The words of the other characters here were taken from the log of the actual adventure.

Here is Dor's background story from our NWN campaign -

Bandit's Son

The damp grey mist of the early dawn crept through the trees, shrouding the moist ground. A wetched figure wormed its way slowly over the ground, twitching and convulsing occasionally. The sharp end of an old, gnarled root produced a low moan, that was quickly clamped down on by ragged lips, ending in a faint hiss. Behind it, a bloody trail was left clinging to the leaves and bushes marking its passing.

Dor could distinctly hear the sound of the metal grating on bone. His bone. He could remember looking down, in surprise, at the protruding steel bladepoint, then his knees grew weak and he slumped, the blade supporting his weigth for an instant before being abruptly removed. A flash of pain, and red blotted his vision out.

"Aye, tis fer ya, ya bloody runt. Ya no be causin' me problems now, for ya fadder be dead, sure as I be havin' dis blade in me hand. An' now, you be joinin' him.", a harsh laugh followed.

Dor recognized the voice, as darkness rushed to embrace him. Brogger, his father's sergeant of arms. Then came emptiness, and a great weight lifted and Dor knew no more.

Fevered memories.

*Flash* A picture of his father, leading the Astorian* Forest Raiders against a fat, overladen merchant train coming from Teziir and bound for Westgate. Pride at seeing the hands signals from his father, instructing the men to attack, practiced and smooth, commanding. The attack went perfect, the resistance quickly subdued, with minimum waste of energy and effort. The booty was quickly seized, and the Raiders disappeared as they had come, into the forest without a whisper.

*Flash* Dor as a young man, receiving the Raider tattoos, the naming ritual. The look of pride and love in his fathers eyes, the slow nod of approval sending waves of feeling down Dor's spine. He had finally earned the right to take his place among the Forest Raiders.

*Flash* The memory of Dor entering his father's tent on that fateful night, and seeing Brogger standing over his father's slumped body, blood pulsing slowly out of the ragged, gaping slash through his father's throat, the light of life slowly fading from his father's eyes, as his lips moved, mouthing "Flee, my son!"

*Flash* The rage, coming, so sweet it's embrace, he hadn't even noticed drawing the twinblades in the Gulden quickdraw method. Dor launched himself at Brogger, the blades flashing, darting, feigning, spinning a web of steel. The clash and clank of steel on steel, the ragged breaths, grunts, as breath came hard. A rug slipping under his high, soft boots, causing him to stumble, the look of triumph in Brogger's eyes, the inevitable looming of the blade...

Dor reached the edge of the cliff, finally. With his last bit of waning strength, he pulled himself over and fell into the rushing waters below.

Blogger had thought him dead, and they had cast his body into the bushes, left for unsavory things to devour. But by Bane's dark breath, he wasn't done yet! The impact of the water registered dully, as if from a great distance. Something solid registered under his fingers, something...familiar. Wood. He gripped it with the last of his strength, his other hand going to his belt, numb fingers fumbling, moving. Then he knew no more.

Dor shook his head, starting out of his reverie. The ship had begun to move out of the harbor of Westgate. A grim smile paused briefly on his lips, then was gone. The Pirate Isles awaited. He turned from the railing, fingering the place of the still tender wound absentmindly, his father's last, unspoken words running through his thoughts.

"Flee, my son!"

* The Astorian theives guild operates out of Teziir, and though nowhere near the size nor success of the Night Masks, controls the area of Teziir ruthlessly. The Watch of Teziir is totally corrupted by the Astorians, and many members are actually recruited through it.

The Astorian Forest Raiders was started by Han Gulden, former Lieutenant of the Watch of Teziir. Caught extorting a merchant train, he was courtmarshalled and cast out of Teziir. His most loyal of men following him into exile, ex-lieutenant Gulden founded the Forest Raider bandits, and soon they made a name for themselves, preying on the rich merchant trains traveling the wilds between Westgate and Teziir.
Their successes eventually drew the attention of the Astorians and were offered the choice of joining or being slaughtered. Thus came the Astorian Forest Raiders to be.

And here is how Dor rescued Megan

The Storm

Spray from the wind-tossed waves crashed over the deck, soaking Dor's breeches thoroughly, as he gritted his teeth and pulled on the rope with the sailors and deck hands, hoarse shouts barely possible to discern over the howling winds. The innocent looking clouds that had been on the horizon in the morning had turned threatening, gathering slowly as the day progressed into dark, menacing thunderheads. Lightening and thunder announced the coming storm, and the Captain strove through the sailaors, ordering and kicking where need be, his shouts moving them to greater effort, getting the ship ready for the approaching storm. The First Mate hadn't hesitated to press Dor, and the other passengers into the mass of deck hands - their survival might well hang up from that.

"Looks like Talos is raging again!", cursed the Captain, his one good eye glaring into the heavens.

"Bring her about, Steersman! We must make safe harbor soon, or she'll canter! Set course for Dead Man's shoal, aye!", his hoarse voice barely carried over the shriek of the winds.

The Steersman's eyebrows arched, but he knew better than to question Captain Daning's orders.

"Get that sail down, ye mangy curs!" growled the First Mate to Dor and the deck hands, "Or we be sippin' salt tea wit da mermaids!" A gold tooth flashed from between the thick lips of the half-orc.

"Pull! Pull, ye worthless sea dogs! Pull!"

Suddenly a cry from above,

"Ahoy! Rocks at starboard Cap'n!"

Captain Daning rushed to the foredeck, straining to see into the driving rain.

"Bring her 'bout, Steersman! 4 degrees to port!"

Lightning flashed, and in the harsh glare Dor saw out of the corner of his eye the Steersman light up like a bonfire, before flashing in an instant into ashes.

"Umberlee save us!", shouted one of the deckhands, as the rudder wheel spun about wildly.

A shout "She's cantering! All hands to the ropes! Hold the main sail at all costs!"

A shudder went through the ship, followed by the sound of snapping timbers and scraping rocks on wood. Bodies flew in all directions as Dor desperately hung on to the main sail rope. Screams of the deckhands whipped by his ears, muffled by the high winds.

"Man overboard!" came a cry from forewards.

"She's taking on water!" came another.

The Captain appeared suddenly in Dor's field of view, pale faced.

"Abandon ship, for all that is holy! She's going under! Curse you, Talos!", he shouted, waving his fist at the heavens.

A wave crashed over the deck and was gone, along with the Captain.

The First Mate had one of the lifeboats half-ready, cursing and yelling at the few deckhands left on board to move faster, if they valued their blasted lives.

A muffled cry for help came from below decks. Dor half-turned, the voice sparked a memory, it sounded so familiar...where had he heard that voice before? Smooth hands, caressing his cheek, accompanied by soft words. Motherly words.

Dor let the rope go, and half-crawling, clawed his way to the hold. He dropped through, slipped and crashed down, bruising his hip. Scrambling to his feet, he tried to balance with the ship rocking wildly to and fro, water flooding in from the front of the hold through a huge hole in the hull. A muffled groan of despair caught his attention in the darkness, lit only by sudden flashes of lightning through the hatch of the hold. Dor moved towards the voice, taking care not to get crushed between the moving barrels and cargo, that was now floating around in the rising waters. He reached the figure and noticed that it was trussed up and partially gagged. Somehow, the figure had managed to get the gag mostly free, enabling it to cry for help.

Shouldering the rather light burden, Dor made his way to the hold's hatch, the water now to his waist. Every step shot a fierce stab of pain from his bruised hip up his spine, exploding in his head. Dor gritted his teeth, and shifted the bundled person to his other shoulder. The figure squirmed about wildly, and Dor cursed under his breath.

"Keep still, ye be thowin' me weight off! We be in a heap o trouble. Keep still!", he hissed.

The figure stopped squirming, and Dor started the long climb to the decks above.

Reaching the deck, Dor drew a dagger, and began cutting the ropes bounding the figure in a hurry. the storm was in full fury now, and rigging and the main sail had ripped loose, apparently as Dor was below decks. Dor ducked just in time as the end of a rope whipped past.

Dor shouted over the wind to the figure.

"We must spring! Now!"

Grabbing the bedraggled, wet figure, Dor sprang.