Tales from an EverQuest campaign
Adventures in Norath
November 2, 2003
THE ADVENTURE BEGINS!
Our brave adventurers begin their careers in the great city of Freeport.
Alganaei the Wood Elf ranger, Durotar Painkiller the Dwarven cleric, Galdor
Fireswift the Eurudite wizard, Norman the
Human warrior, Weadin the Wood Elf bard and the Wood Elf Druid. Their first
mission to help the royal exterminator hunt and kill giant sewer rats.
Unfortunately the Wood Elf Druid missed this first adventure due to family
obligations and the need to relocate his parents and their belongings to a new
tree house, but that’s what young Wood Elf druids are for.
From Alganaei, ranger extraordinar,
I traveled a long way from the forest for this? I was lucky to come away from
this encounter with my life never have I been so humiliated running from orcs.
I hope this does not get back to my family? About my party members now there's
a story for the ages. The fighter, a tough chap, he's not very accurate but boy
can he suck up the damage, we will keep him for now. Then there's the bard a
wood be elf at that. He's always blowing or beating on something? Strange one
he is, having him around is like being caught in the forest with no bug spray.
Things always flying around you buzzing and twisting in your ear, useless if
you ask me, he's definitely a sell at the next city. The mage he's the arsenal,
so far. Lucky I suppose I always thought intelligence was the primary ability
for them spellcasters. We better keep him for a few more battles see if he
turns around? Then there's the battle hardened dwarfen cleric he packs a wallop
and he cures, not like I need any though. I'm so nimble I don't hardly get
scratched. He's for sure a buy. I would like to have another one of them guys
floating around. All in all I'm a little scared of going out with this group
again but my father always said nothing ventured nothing gained! I just don't
see what I can gain running away from everything. I will give them all another
shot before I trackless step my rear out of here.
I am a dwarf cleric and I heal, cast damage spells, and do more damage more
often than the warrior. I started with a rusty light mace (-1 –1) to a
morningstar. (0 0) It’s kind of pathetic that the warrior always misses with
his sword and the ranger always does 1 damage with his special enchanted bow.
The bard kept falling and I always healed him for like 3 hp so he goes up to
one hit point, then falls down again. One day nothing at all happened because
we were going to fight orcs but decided to shop at armor jack instead. The next
day we went to fight those orcs, but they brought their centurion with them.
(there were like eleventy-billion of them) We wooped them anyway.
I am the brains behind this group. All these insolent warriors, and
vagabonds. They know nothing. Of course, I see a pathetic warrior, he may be
able to take a couple blows, but he couldn’t hit the broad side of Erudin
Castle with his sword. I see a ranger, a disgrace. He tries to track a couple
of mice, and gives up after a couple of minutes. I see a bard. He is beyond
help. He must have died 10 times. Then there is that dwarven cleric. He wants
to be a fighter like his father, but alas, all I see is that the light has
touched him, *coughs* and he is all righteous warrior. His goal must be to slay
all that is dark and evil. Makes me sick. My big brother told me stories about
him. His father sounded a bit more adventurous, still, he is but a dwarf. I am
the only one who will prevail when all becomes dark.
Weadin is the name. Song is my game.
It all started when I was a lot younger and could whistle load and hold a good
tune. Ahhh those afternoons were so fun when I had family around I could count
on, now I am with a rough lot. I am not sure what to make of them yet, but I
think we will get it together the next time we have a battle. Let me explain.
First, we have a Dorfin cleric who doesn't drink (imagine that) but he sure can
wallop dirty pig of an Orc. He also healed me a few times because them damn
dirty Orcs don't appreciate a good War chant or a load shrill whistle. He would
have to heal me if the lunk of a human warrior could hit anything with HIS BIG
OLD LONG SWORD (ohhh scary warrior). I am not sure where that Ranger goes all
the time, he seems to miss the good stuff. I think he failed tracking in school
or is out looking for some good Pot root to smoke.
Talk about smoke, that goofy looking guy with the big forehead can really cause
a ruckus. He points his damn finger and pow, things catch on fire or get very
I can wait until I can start yelling out some of Uncle Bruscos notes or when I
can get the proper rhythm or improper rhythm for cousin Denins cords. What I
really want is to be able to sing like Grandpapi McVaxius. Then they will see
what a Bard is for.
Oh well time to scribble some new tunes of my own.
I am Norman; son of Jacson and Lysa of the city of Freeport. To my parents I am
son, to my guild I am sword, to my Lord I am servant, and to my enemies I am
Growing up in the split city was interesting to say the least. My father, a
militia Guard had always stressed the importance and reliability of a good
piece of steel. My mother, a member of the Academy of Arcane Science, favored a
mystical approach (mostly fire).
Early on in my childhood it was found that I was equally adept at both war and
the study of magic. To please both parents, I balanced the two fields of study
quite well, until one day I was set upon by a group of thugs from a rival
academy. A strange sensation overtook me as I fought. Outnumbered and without
any real hope of victory, all I can remember is this great sense of JOY as I
smashed them to the ground one by one. It was then that I knew, really KNEW
that my path lay upon the fields of battle taking life with cold steel. The
next day I abandoned my arcane studies and joined the Steel Warriors. My father
always said the guild of Steel could prepare me for anything.
Nothing, however, could have prepared me for what has happened in the last few
Rats. Yes rats with sharp pointy teeth, but I am getting ahead of myself. After
years under the finest trainers the Steel Warriors had to offer, I get sent on
my first assignment with little more than a sword shaped piece of rust and a
discarded burial tunic(not a recent burial either). No one could ever accuse
our fine leader of not having a (albeit sick) sense of humor.
So I go to the guild hall to check out who is offering work. Ah the exterminator
needs help killing rats, I am in. Times must be tough in Faydwer these days as
the crowd looking for work was more pathetic than I had ever seen it. Wood
elves, dwarves, and even an Erudite! Lord Rallos! Do they have to come from the
other side of the world to take our jobs? They were all small. There must be
something in the water to make them all little like that, barely a muscle
between them. My neck was getting sore bending down trying to hear what they
were saying through there thick accents. The dwarf’s accent was the hardest to
understand, but then again he probably was drunk judging by the purple stains
in his (her?*) beard.
The dwarf was a priest, of Brell I think. He isn’t so bad once you get used to
the smell. He is a fair fighter and a decent healer. He was quite surprising in
melee, guess he must have though they stole his beer or something.
There was a wood elf bard. Yes a singer. No really he was a singer. Now stop
laughing. Stop it. You ever hear of the pied piper? Do you want to her this
story or not? Ok. He was scrawny but he had some good tunes. Really a lot of
fun to cut orcs’ heads off to the beats he was weaving.
The other wood elf was a ranger. We could tell he really didn’t have a natural
knack for swordplay so we pooled our money and got him a bow. He actually
started to pull his weight in the battles, but he is only 98 pounds so his
weight doesn’t mean as much as you might think.
Erudite wizard, that’s like saying useless paladin or evil necromancer, its
implied. He had a good little wrist shot with his spells, as he killed quite a
few of the weaker foes. Doubt he could take a good punch in the face though. I
will have to let him hide behind me.
The battles were really quite typical. Warriors charge, healers try to keep up
with healing, warrior get too hurt because healer can't keep up, casters get
scared and run, warrior covers escape.
Norman of The Steel Warriors
* Its really hard for non dwarves to tell if a dwarf is male or female, and from
the low birth rate, and high constipation rate of their species its likely that
dwarves have trouble telling too. Will use the term he to mean he/she/it in
regards to dwarves.
November 16, 2003
THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES!
Our brave adventurers began their careers in the great city of Freeport and
became rat exterminators for the royal exterminator. Never travelling far from
the safety of the city guards. Let's hope that in their continuing adventures
today that they will brave new worlds and visit unknown territory, at least a
little bit. Unfortunately the Wood Elf Druid never arrived so a replacement
companion came along, a Barbarian Warrior!
It all started out harmless enough. Where should I start [pause], ah yes now I
remember we went looking for a bazaar of some sort. That's pretty bizarre isn't
it. We had a new recruit, thought it was a druid, but it turned out to be a
barbarian warrior thank god. It gets all gets fuzzy from there, a few fights
with beetles and such creatures. It was all going good, fighters were kicking
butt wizard was blasting and the cleric was healing and i was picking up the
slop. Then we came across some pumas, there in the canine class for those of
you who don't know what a puma is. It's a ferocious cat with big claws just ask
the fighters they will tell you. I warned them not to fool with mother nature
but they persisted. Their pelts were worth something and they were there lives.
Those fools got clawed and scratched to death and I had to drag them back to
rez them and spent all the adventuring loot [it wasn't much]. Just me and the
wizard survived. I thought twice about killing that wizard and taking
everything for myself he makes me uncomfortable with that slanted head and all.
But I decided to spare his life one notched arrow would drop him right in his
tracks just have to get that arrow of before he utters a curse or something.
The dwarf was great until he died. I had to bind the party at zero and he
didn't do much hitting this adventure probably because the two sponges I mean
fighters were soaking everything up. He spent most of his time healing and not
yaulping. Then there's Weadin ... is that his name or what he has been smoking
he's like a doormat. Every time I turn around he's on his back or in the fetal
position. We made it to the bazaar but had no money to buy anything and then
went back were we came from. This group is not much for money but the exp is
nice. I have reached fourth level and my true power is starting to show next
level, three attacks a round, I just need money to buy some more arrows. It's
been pretty embarrassing travel with these low level characters but they showed
me some spunk and resilience I'll give it another go next adventure they need
me and I'm not much for letting people down
Alganaei ace archer
Durotar Painkiller signing in. Hello? Is this thing on? Oh, I see. Fine if you
don’t want to turn this thing on I’ll have to. Then go. Come on, I’m not
getting any younger. The blue cord you idiot. NOOOOOOOOOO! Not the red cord,
the blue co
2 days later, after an anonymous explosion
Sorry about that, my agent doesn’t know anything about
technology. I never realized that humans only have about 2% of a hit point.
Just one measly explosion and they go boom. His red blood stained my facial
Ten minutes later
Scene one, Take 7356013252351
Painkiller signing in. When I need relieve from heartburn fast I use, oh sorry,
Scene one I’m too bored and tired to put when it was so…
Painkiller signing in. I know you may ask yourself "How is the son of the
purple dwarf such a cleric? Why didn’t he choose the way of the warrior? How
long do you think it will last? I bet you ten gold pieces he won’t last longer
then fourteen minutes without fighting something." When I think these things I
wonder if my conscience is talking, I usually tell it in a very nice way, "SHUT
UP, I’M TRYING TO KILL SOMETHING HERE!" oh, yeah last session of D&D. Hmm,
I wonder how to put this? Think of English class. Think of English class. Aha,
I have it. A poem,
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells.
Lets beat those pumas, even if they smell.
I think that in his head,
the Eurodite laid an egg.
The camel popped a hump,
and the orcs took ballet, yay.
Twinkle, twinkle little giant firebeetle.
How I wonder how quickly you died.
Down below the earth so low.
Like our camel down under.
Twinkle, twinkle little giant fire beetle.
How I wonder how quickly you died.
Dark elf, dark elf, go away.
Rez me again another day.
Fighter had a little sword,
whose hilt was white as snow.
And everywhere the fighter went,
the sword caused no damage unless a 20 was involved.
Oh, give me a home,
where the bard people roam,
and the ozone is being destroyed more every day.
Where rock ‘n’ roll’s heard
a discouraging word and there’s jazz going on all day.
Ranger, ranger, quite contrary,
how do you make your arrows grow?
Do they come from a tree,
or do they come when you pee,
because you have a lot that I see.
P.S. I think they come when you pee, because when we were
fighting the pumas, an arrow fell from the heavens and landed in your quiver.
Let me think how to explain this. Fighters Fight in the front and do damage and
take damage (meat shield). They have more hitpoints. Ranger Hide in the back
and shoot arrows. Do a lot of damage and don't take very much. Wizard Stay in
the back and point your finger and due severe damage. If they get hit they die.
Bard I am like BASF. I don't make things. I make things BETTER. I can't take
much damage yet or dish out a lot, but I help the Fighters and Rangers dish it
out and take it.
Now, there is a point to all this.
PS. I am still practicing a few songs that will really help out.
Well, another days work accomplished… HOW WORTHLESS!!! We get but a few silver
pieces, nothing new but exp! The ranger is running out of arrows and we have 1
gold left for him?!? How are we going to survive? Of course, they come crawling
to me for help. "Well," says I, "We should possibly go kill some orcs, they
have some good spoils." *Applause* Well, wasn’t that easy? Anyway….
We find out about some great bazaar that you can buy nearly anything at so we
decide, ‘Why not go check it out? It’s only a couple hours away.’ So, a couple
of hours it is. We head in a couple hours, half the party dies, only me and the
ranger endure, we have to drag 2 people (LIFELESS corpses) back to town. I have
to carry the alcohol-forsaken dwarf. Of course I have to carry the bad luck
fortune. So with my new 300 lbs. bad luck talisman, I’m walking back, minding
my own business, when shwooshooooshooooshcrackbangexplosionpowbang. A bolt
comes soaring in out of nowhere. I had to make a choice of carrying the dwarf
back or dropping him and running, well, since I’m a nice guy, I tried to carry
him back, but his immeasurable immensity got caught on a tree, so I had no
choice but to leave him there. Well, after all that we have to get a rez for
the entire group and spend all the dwindling dough we had earned. We went back
and finally after a long hard day we make it to this bizarre bazaar we had been
waiting for. Wow. Looks like a bunch of hot dog stands. Oooh look its some of
those giant pretzels! To bad we have ten gold pieces to spend on this super
shopping spree. Well we are through here, we come back and we have wasted our
time. I got a couple of levels, our cleric is the runt, and the ranger, and me
if we keep it up, will be the super-powers of the group. Fear my wrath.
Galdor Fireswift. Eternal Fire
I awoke to find my mouth filled with dirt. With a heave I spat the dirt from my
mouth and with a groan rolled onto my back. I tried to open my eyes but my face
was wet and sticky with a dark liquid. The liquid tasted like blood, my blood.
I suddenly realized the mistake of lying on my back and twisted to my side to
Once my stomach had calmed I started to take in my surroundings. Although I was
still nearly blind from the mix of dirt and blood, the soft squeaking of rats
along with the smell of rotting garbage reminded me that I was in an alley: The
alley where I fought, the alley where I lost.
I would have been content just to lie there but for the chatter of the rats
scurrying away. The alley was suddenly quiet, someone was coming. I squinted to
get a look at the stranger but night had fallen making it that much more
difficult to see him clearly. I tried to stand but the best I could manage was
to drag myself to the alley wall and sit up. The stranger was a man dressed in
fine robes and carrying a long mace. His aged face seemed oblivious to his
surroundings, including me. He shuffled just past me, paused and without
turning to look at me, spoke.
"The battle; how was it?" The robed man said
"Good" I said with a whisper, surprised at my response.
The man smiled, turned to me and knelt down. He braced himself with his weapon
in one hand and offered me the other. As he pulled me to my feet I noticed his
weapon was not a mace at all, but a long staff topped with a skull. Though we
had not met before, he seemed …familiar.
We walked slowly down the alley and the robed man spoke softly without looking
"You are wondering why." the robed man said
"Why?" I asked.
"Yes why. You are wondering why you were attacked, why
they did not kill you and why I stopped for you?" the robed man said
"Discord." the robed man said.
The robed man continued louder, half laughing "You try to look surprised, when
you really are not at all are you? It is about Discord. It is always about
The Bazaar; Hub of Platinum, Center of Cash it is also called. It is the place
where goods simple and exotic are exchanged from all over Norrath. It was this
Bazaar that we sought that fateful day.
"Only take you a week or so, should be no problem" The guard said.
He was right it only took a week, but it was a bit of a problem.
It seems he neglected to tell us about the vicious animals that populated the
route form Freeport to the Bazaar. Many of the animals were quite a bit more
fearsome that the orcs, bats, and rats we had become accustomed to fighting.
The first sign of trouble is when I heard the Cleric’s battle cry that quickly
turned into a cry for help that was brutally cut short. It’s best to leave the
combat to the professionals. The barbarian warrior fell just as quickly…the
bigger they are…the dumber they are.
The Bard was able to stand for a bit using his fetal position defense moves. The
moves would have been laughable if they were not so effective. The last thing I
remember before I looked into the light was the ranger sneaking away on his
hands and knees, and the wizard hiking up his skirt, losing his high heels and
running like a transvestite on the way to a wonder bra sale.
November 30, 2003
THE ADVENTURING PAUPERS!
Our adventurers travel a two-day trip to the bazaar. Fighting hazards and
occasionally dying on the way, they finally find themselves at their
destination, the Bazaar. Unfortunately do to rez costs they are now paupers and
cannot afford to purchase any of the extraordinary goods found at the bazaar.
They even need to rely on the charity of a Dark Elf Cleric to rez the last
member of their group. Has their poverty reached no bounds! Let's hope that
their next adventure is a more profitable one.
Were to start were to start ahh… yes the wood elf that's me. I was the leader
once again. Well I was scouting out ahead, that would make me the leader
wouldn't you say. On our mission for some money to buy some stuff I single
handedly ambushed three orcs and lead them straight into our fierce fighting
group. It was not my fault the cleric was standing there picking boogers and
crumbs out of her beard. And down he goes like a ton of bricks but we prevailed
of course thanks to my fancy shooting, egg head's bolt spells and the two
fighters. As tough as they look, don't tell anyone I said this, but wow maybe
the one should have followed in his mothers footsteps and practiced some form
of arcane knowledge, he obviously did not spend as much time watching his
father in his craft. He must have watched his uncle by all accounts, he was in
the circus and can you guess what he was. That's right a juggler, he was
swinging and tossing all day coming up empty handed. All the time no weapon I
mean and now it's rubbing off on the new guy. His hammer must be real heavy
cause he keeps dropping it all the time, also he's not very bright but he hits
more often than the other fighter. Plus he's a good chap, he will take one
square in the chops for the team as he did, two hits and down he went. Now they
don't know this but I also took two hits from those orcs and then lead them to
the party for there slaying. He simply dropped and we had to rez him, you do
the math two hits and two hits and who's here to tell the whole story again.
Then there's Weadin. Still have not figured out if that's his name or what he
is smoking. He's starting to carry a good tune now, at least I am starting to
feel a little better when he's blowing and beating on something. Plus he's a
wood elf. He's all right just a little strange. Then we found all kind of good
stuff. Sold it and made better stuff fireswift can knit pretty swift, that's
all I can say. He made me some cool stuff. It will help us out next time we
adventure. That's for sure! I'm looking forward to the next outing already.
Until we meet again
Alganaei Ranger Extrodanair
The robed man spoke of Discord, of War and of Rebirth. He spoke of the gods, and
of Veeshan, the creator of the world. He spoke of the potential of man and how
it was our destiny to become more godlike. It was a destiny that could only be
reached though conflict. There could be no improvement as long as we suffered
the presence of the weak in our midst. The weaklings that dilute our strength
must be cleansed in order for the strong to flourish.
The robed man then lifted his hand close to his face. He looked fascinated at
the ant that was crawling across the back of his hand. He then bent down and
gently brushed the ant off into an anthill that was at his feet. "There you go"
He said "Go home"
"Those who protect the weak are fools and are showing that they are unfit to
continue to their destiny" The robed man said frowning. With those words he
lifted his foot and stomped the anthill flat.
I must have had a confused look on my face for the robed man then continued.
"Many of them just died, but look already…the strong ones are already starting
to rebuild. The next generation will be stronger than the last, much better to
take on the challenges that are before them. Discord is the only true way."
Soon after that I took my leave of the robed man. The sun was coming up and I
had much to think about.
So what can I say?
The strong survive and the weak fade away.
Barbarians are tall,
but their brains are small.
They rush into battle,
how soon they fall.
Dwarves are short,
oh how they prattle.
They do best in the back, out of battle.
When they try to fight they wind up dead.
There armor is thick and so are their heads.
Elves seem smart but that’s a ruse.
No sword, no armor, bows and magic they use.
To stand and fight is not their call.
Fight them close and their Mom they call.
Well, that could have happened a lot better, I think we all had a bit of an off
day. I will describe a story of what happened during one of our battles:
It is a quiet day in the woods, our ranger is scouting ahead looking for any
sort of prey we might be able to hunt down and slay. He finds some orcs
discussing something in orcish, when he steps on a twig, SNAP! The orcs lift up
their heads, but are not very concerned. Then they continue their conversation.
The ranger hoots 3 times like a barn owl, signaling to us that he has found
prey. We get ready. The cleric is saying, "Where are the little orcs, I can
take ‘em! Show me some of those slimy orcs!" The ranger shoots the orcs a
couple of times, (Not dropping any of course) and runs back to the group,
whizzing by the cleric. The cleric turns around and there are a few orcs in his
face. They pound him into a pulp with attacks to spare. The warriors charge in,
"We will help you sir cleric!" and "Me help make better guy" Swish! Thunk!
Clunk! The warrior’s sword flies out of his hand, the barbarian looses his grip
on his hammer and it hits his skull and ricochets down to the ground. Then I
decide it’s time for me to save the day. "Prepare to die An Orc Centurion." I
blast the weaker one, but it takes me about 18 seconds to kill him while
everyone else is weakening the Legionnaire. The bard starts thumping on his
drums and causing 1 damage every 6 seconds. The cleric wakes up crawls away,
and looks at the orc, with a sort of sly smile and says, "Ah, I feel much
better now." So, we finally kill them and take the spoils back home. We need a
little battle training. How can you blame us? We’re only 2nd-4th level. Anyway,
next time we will all be a little smarter, and I will write this earlier so I
can remember everything that happened in the session.
Man, that was a lousy session of D&D.
First, the ranger found some easy kills, I mean orcs and pulled them. So far
this seems normal but, it gets even more normal. He comes up to me, badly
wounded, asking for a cure. I’m a nice guy
so I gave the poor guy one but right after I heal the idiot a ton of orcs jump
on me. The ranger trained me, yes me, the cleric, THE CLERIC! They hit me with
all they’ve got but did nothing save turn my head with that magical sword of
his. Here’s the worst part, he forced me to look at the Eurodite’s forehead and
I fell down on the ground and laughed for about three rounds. Then I got up and
blah blah blah blah (nothing happened after that, I mean it.)
The next day we were fighting the same thing and fansy speshel
intelejens gie coodnt deside if he shood atak da reely ingered ork oar da
perfekly not ingered ok. (For those that don’t speak Erudition, that says
fancy, special intelligence guy couldn’t decide if he should attack the injured
orc or the perfectly not injured orc.)
At the end of the session, because of me
we had like 5k gold pieces, so we bought spells that we needed and some
that we would need in the future. I saved the party a bunch of gold because I
had I spell that I wanted to make, and if I didn’t succeed, we would buy it. I
needed a sixteen or up on a twenty-sided die and of course I made it, because I
rolled a seventeen. ALL HAIL ME, KING OF THE HEALERS, SON OF
NONE OTHER THAN THE PURPLE
December 14, 2003
THE ADVENTURING PROFITEERS!
Our pauper adventurers have traveled into orc-land and found profit, riches and
good equipment. They now have a new goal of profit over experience and are
putting their new equipment to good use. Let's check in on them and see how
their profiteering is going.
WAZZZZZZZZUP, THIS IS DUROTAR PAINKILLER!!!!!!!
Hello all of you. Get ready for a short story compared to my
life span. So, we’re walking, and we’re walking, and uhhhhhhhm we’re walking
and boom. Somebody farted and made a hole in the chair. No, wait, that was me.
Oh yeah, I’m back in business! Now, seriously, we’re walking and the ranger is
ahead of us looking for Waldo or something ‘cause that guy was going like 2
miles an hour and it doesn’t work because a whole army of orcs come charging at
us but the only ones who were fast enough to get away without a bard song were
Adam and I. The next time we found the army there were three scouts ahead so we
decided to kill those first, but they ran. Then we found a group of seven other
orcs so we fought and easily killed those, but the next battle gets
complicated. Not only were there about a dozen orcs, one was an oracle and
there was an apprentice. Adam was not doing any damage with his spells, but he
was attacking the oracle a lot and it attacked him. He actually attacked him
and I, but first of all he attacked Adam and got a poison on him, then one on
me. After that he started to do damage to us. Adam was always getting knocked
down, but I was healing him. After hope was lost with Adam, the others told me
to stop healing him and heal them or myself. The warrior orcs attacked me and I
got knocked unconscious and almost died. Hope was looking slim, and one of our
warriors was down and our ranger had six hit points left. Luckily, the other
warrior had a good taunt roll and saved the rangers butt. When we won, the only
three standing were the ranger, the warrior and the bard, but the bard used his
healing song to heal the knocked out warrior and I. The wizard had not only
taken one for the group, but by dying, saved the group from the cleric using
any further spells on him.
This Cleric WILL HAVE REVENGE! It is a fine day. We go orc hunting. We see a
massive train of orcs. Dang newbies, always training the village, anyway… We
are hunting them down in small groups, we are just resting and regrouping, when
a cluster of them comes in, we get in formation, but they holler out in orc
(which only I can understand) They’re over here! Make haste! So we fall back
again and regroup, and then we find a group of 3 of them, so we slay them, then
another group arrives, a bit harder, so we’re doing reasonable, then we’re not.
I’m down on the ground dying from the poisonous ray their ‘hack’ casters emit.
With my last words I ask the Cleric for one heal which will save my life, just
one free action heal. He says "NO you are at –7 I am at 26! I need it much more
than you do!" And the last bit of life is sucked out of my body. Then the orcs
take him down. -5, -6, -7, they aren’t going to heal him! -8, -9 And the bard
turns on the heal song. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! He gets healed. He stands up points
at my body and laughs. I CAN’T STAND IT! He deserved to die. That’s All I can
say. But, on the other hand that AoE is turning out handy it increased my kill
count by 20. I did get a 50% rez too. That makes it a little better to handle.
We should set aside 1000 gp for each person to cover any rez costs. That would
make dying priceless.
Over worked under appreciated.
Our story begins again around Freeport, we are in search of those ugly dirty
dwarfs, I mean orcs. Ahh we find a large group of them, to many for my liking,
so I play a peppy little tune so we can get our arses out of there. Later in
the day we find some not so fortunate Orcs and decide to clobber them. Mr
Forehead is a tough guy when he stands behind us and can cast spells on
defenseless mobs, heh. Guess what happen when one casted on him, he turtled on
the ground in agony and died. I felt sorry for the poor sap, especially since
the great Healer was laughing at him. I didn't see him laughing though when he
was lying on the ground in the fetal position with blood coming out of his
body. Good thing for him I know a special song with my violin, otherwise he
would have been rezzed along with Mr Forehead. Ohh where was I, the Orcs. They
were a tough lot, but the warrior and the barbarian are finally starting to
kill a few mobs now. And Alganaei, ranger extraordinar, is one hell of a shot
with that Bow.
All in all, I think we are really starting to come together. We took care of a
few groups of Orcs and are learning quickly. Soon we will travel Norathh and
find some larger more dangerous foes.
Jack of all trades.
Well it was another adventure and another death. This time it was the wizard
and not one of the tanks! Go figure. I have just started practicing using magic
spells, flame lick, snare, things like that and cures of course, the minor type
1 d 10. It helps. The wizard would not have fallen if that cleric, if that's
what he really is, could roll anything more than 1 to 3 on a fricking cure. I
would be talking about all my dazzling shots I made instead. He had to stop
curing the wizard and start healing the fighters and myself. I feel the wizards
pain but trust me oh slanted head one, you will exact revenge one day and it
will be hardy, just tuck that one under your wizard cap for later. What goes
around comes around. Well that's enough said. I believe all-in-all fighters
fought and the archer shot and we came up on the better end of the coin this
time with a little luck. Them fighters I do believe can speak orc. I cannot but
every time we start fighting they start talking sweet nothings to them and
blowing kisses and they always go after them. I don't know what there saying
but it must be something about there mothers. It really gets them going. Weadin
is starting to pay big dividends. All this time I didn't know what he did for
the love of Treebeard. But some of his tunes are catchy, looking forward to the
next adventure. The only thing scaring me is I have not died yet and we seem to
be taking turns. I will be extra careful next time. Stay in the middle next to
the cleric. Well on second thought next to the bard I have a feeling that the
cleric is going to turn into a lightning rod? Just call it a lucky guess, ohh
slanty one did you catch that lightning rod. Don't worry dwarfs aren't very
smart he wont get it ... I mean the saying not the lightning
That' all for know see ya soon
Alganaei Ranger E
I Warbach am here to stay and killing orc's is my way. I'm better than all the
rest when I'm killing I'm at my best. The rangers arrows flew true and right
when he wasn't running from the fight. The bards song can cut like a knife its
to bad he's controlled by his wife. Our poor wizard is not only good at dying
but he can also put on a good crying. The cleric is a sad sap for she don't
know when to shut her flap. The other warrior I'm sad to say couldn't hit him
self if he got in is own way.
January 11, 2004
ADVENTURING IN MUD
With rumors of a new plane of existence to explore, The Plane of Filth, our
brave adventurers test the waters, well actually mud, to see if the have the
mettle to wade knee deep in filth. Let's see how our pauper adventurers fair
with there mud bath.
Hi again, this is Durotar Painkiller. Last session of D&D
was, well, sort of odd. We started off normal. Then it got kind of weird. We
heard in a rumor that there was a low-level dungeon with good loot so we
decided to go. First, we came to a mud pit and went down a tube thing. We see a
whole city that looked like it had been through one thousand years of acid
rain. Then it gets weird. We see about ten or twelve empty, clean, trashcans
and one big recycling bin. We opened them, drop a lid over the edge and watched
it take a giant fall.
We went on in hope of finding the treasure soon but we hear a
noise from one of the buildings like talking. We get closer and it stops. Then,
a ton of guys popped out of nowhere and we thought we would die, but the bard
pulls off a mez. After that the only trouble we had was the warrior who
couldn’t kill one guy after we were about finished with the others.
We continued to fight, the bard continued to sing. The mage continued to cast.
The ranger continued to fire his bow. Norman what’s his face continued to roll
terrible. I continued to heal, and that other warrior continued to not die.
Then we started to think that the last people in there took all the stuff. Even
the trashcans were empty. (I failed to say that before the vote at the end.)
They didn’t even bother to recycle their rusty weapons. (DUMMIES!)
So, we’re in town and what do we find out in the bar, that there is some newbie
plane of filth outside Freeport to the east. So we head in to check it out. A
guard tries to enter but fails, so we decide to jump in and swoosh. We are
falling through the mud. We enter the ‘Plane of Filth’ and it is vile. The
whole city of filth is run down. Everything is disgusting except for a couple
of chrome wastebaskets and a big recycling bin! Weird. We are strolling into
the city when some slime monsters jump us. I quickly take them down with my
unbelievably powerful nukes and AoE’s. So we take the corpses and throw them
into the trash can and close the lid. We take it off. Nothing happens. So the
barbarian throws a body into the bin and poof they both disappear. We are
meditating up and the barbarian enters in, obviously drunk. What am I going to
Well what can I say another adventure and I came out in good shape. Now Norman
is trying to decide if he is following his father or mother, still it shows in
his clothing. The barbarian is as dumb as a box of rocks. He showed up last
time to kill one guy, just stay home next time. The cleric can't roll high
enough to cure a rat. So why bother and once again I the ranger saved the
wizards life. You owe me big time slanty. And you didn't even vote for me at
the end of the night and last but not least Weadin you are paying big dividends
now. Can't wait till next time.
Ahh… where were we again, The Plain of trash or some decrepit town. Again
we worked well together fighting off some strange creatures. The cleric didn't
run in and get killed cause he thought he was a fighter, the wizard held his
ground also. The up front guys did a good job also. I did help them grow a
little stronger though, soon they will see the true power of a Bard. I don't
have many kills yet, but I bet I have assisted on almost every kill so far. It
is not about me. It is about a cohesive unit that can operate efficiently
through tough situations. We are almost there. Our next adventure shall prove
January 25, 2004
Our pauper adventurers continue their brave adventurers in The Plane of Filth.
Dumb alarm clock. It woke me up half past quarter sun! I’m never buying
mordakanins brand again. I come running out of then tents. Everyone but the
barbarian is out adventuring. Whew, at least I’m not last. I go ask the guards
and they have already entered the plane! I jump in, run past the trashcans into
the city, and take it a little slower. I don’t want to be seen, I throw up my
hood, and go into stealth mode. I see the group up ahead when they are just
about to pull some slugs. I come join them. Good thing I was there, I had to
burn all my mana just to keep them alive! That was bad. Next battle: We see a
translucent bridge ahead of us. I think I have seen this before, or maybe it
was just a story. The dwarf wants to sprint across and see what's ahead. Now I
remember! My big brother told me about this! He’s gonna fall off and I have to
go save him from the purple ooze. Hope he doesn’t break a nail. Oh, the group’s
stopping him. Why does the oldest always have the most fun. Oh, well. I take a
closer look at the bridge. Are the fools really going to walk across this? It’s
not solid! The fighter with the falchion runs straight across it. As he is
running a giant undead frog with an unholy halberd steps out. Now I have seen
everything except the dwarf falling. We start fighting it. Wow, that number
generator must be stuck on ones. We destroyed him, Everything but the halberd.
The warrior picks it up. He likes it. Too bad they’re refusing to let me use
Epic Weapon on it. It would be devastating. Anyway, we pull a couple more mobs,
almost die, same old same old. The bard breaks a string on his flute, or
whatever. This cleric is getting more and more pathetic. The ranger heals 10
with a minor healing and the cleric heals 8 with a major… sad…
Galdor Fireswift. Eternal Fire.
February 8, 2004
Our pauper adventurers have come to enjoy their adventurers in mud.
Mud, Mud, and more mud. Dead, dead, and dead again. They said that this time
when I died something weird happened. I lost experience! Can you believe that!
Just kidding. My body sunk into the ground like quicksand. They we’re wondering
how they we’re going to get the items off my body when Norman checked the
trashcans and my body was in one! How did it get there? Anyway, We went across
the bridge again and fought the gorf again. I mean the frog. We got a buckler
from him, not too exciting, especially when the cleric is holding it. Not too
much happened that time, except for my death which everyone in the party
mourned deeply over, because if I had my shield spell on I could have saved
money on my car insurance, I mean saved experience.
Today my big brother was telling me about the day he found and adopted me. He
said that he was raiding Erudin. Looked on the porch and saw a baby erudite. He
picked the baby up and looked at him. Except for the enormous forehead. He said
he looked pretty cute. He pointed his finger at him and smoke started coming
out. He liked his style. He brought him home to the plane of time, and took him
out of the basket. There was a note on the bottom. He picked it up and it read:
This child has been granted powers beyond comprehension. Train him and he will
be far greater than any the world has yet seen. The prophecy will be fulfilled.
His name is Galdor Fireswift.
The flame is growing day by day;
The old elements will pass away.
A new era will come to stay:
The reign of The Burning Fire.
From the earth will rise a spire,
The lights need, will now be dire.
The flame will grow higher and higher,
The Flame of Galdor’s Fire.
The white light then will fail.
The earth will become dim and pale.
All the world then will hail,
Galdor! The Flame of all Fires!
The rest of the parchment was torn off and missing. There must have been more,
but he could not find it. It was nowhere to be seen. There were strange
markings along the side. They seemed to move in a pattern. There were complex
shapes too. He took the parchment with him. He copied down the sheet onto fresh
parchment and saved the origional in a magical stasis. Then he decided he would
train me under the powers of Soulusk Ro, and show me all of his secrets.
Every day after every battle, especially when I die and learn from my mistakes,
I feel, somewhat like I am losing my control. Someday, when I am in dire need,
I will decide. Today I do not die. The fire in my heart will be poured out.
"The flame is growing day by day;"
The Way of Wind
Everything was hazy…I was lost. It feels an
eternity that I have been walking, but I have been here before. The broken
buildings, the trash the FILTH!
I see the enemy; their misshapen bodies and foul smell, teeth biting and claws
ripping. Their claws matter not; they fall in a spray of ichor under every
swing. Their teeth matter not; I smash them from their mouths. For each of them
that fall it seems two rises in its place…GRRRR…. I am being overrun. I grit my
teeth and swing into the mass of bodies. It’s no use there are too many, they
are pushing me back. The weight of their numbers threatens to smother me…
… I awake with a start. I swing my legs off the bed and sit there for a moment
to gather my senses in the dark. I was in my bedroom, with my armor and weapons
strewn about the floor. No claws or teeth here. I glance over to the figure
lying beside me and smile as I remember the previous night. Well maybe there
were some claws and teeth after all.
The room smells of whisky and of bought company. I get out of bed and an empty
bottle tumbles to the floor. "Ah I am not drinking you again anytime soon" I
mumble as I kick it from my path. Stumbling to the window I open the shutters.
The sunlight reflecting off the water stung my eyes as the breeze of the ocean
wafted into the room. The sun was still low in the sky and the air still
chilled from the night. The town was busy with activity, as it always is just
I have always loved the view from this window. I took in the view of the
Stormrunner, her crew hurriedly loading the last of her cargo. Three great
masts and blue mermaid on her bow, she was unmistakable. The air smelled of
storm, which explained the crew’s haste. Dark clouds were on the horizon in the
I pulled a chair to the window and ate my breakfast. Stormrunner’s crew had
finished loading their cargo and they were raising the sails to make for open
water before the storm rolled in.
I mused over the dream. I have had it every night since visiting that forsaken
Plane of filth. Was it a vision of the future? I couldn’t get the images out of
my head; Too many of them, just too many to kill. "Rallos" I said to myself
"How can one deal with so many at once?"
Just then I heard a number of men shouting warnings. "By Prexxus, waterspout!"
one cried. A waterspout had formed at the front of the storm and was heading
toward the harbor. The militia had sounded the alarm and the people of the town
were running for cover. The crew of the Stormrunner were frantically taking the
sails down and buttoning the ship up. They didn’t have enough time to finish
their task; the spout came in surprisingly fast.
I watched in horror as the spout hit the ship broadside. The crew and cargo was
being tossed around like toys. Many of them had been sucked into the vortex and
flung into the street or into the harbor. It was hard to believe that wind
could kill so many so quickly.
The spout then turned and went back out to sea. As I was watching the spout go I
became aware of eyes upon me. In the street, just below my window I saw him
staring at me. The man tapped his skull topped staff three times on the ground
then said "You see how it is done now, don’t you?"
"Yes" I thought. "That’s how. The way of the wind"
From the desk of Alganei
From where I come from we have heard tales of such a magician. As lads we elf
folk told stories around the campfire of an Erudin and the prophecy. If anyone
is interested the rest of the story goes like this.
Hail Hail Galdor master of magic.
They found you on a porch, your mother left you there in panic
your forehead grew day by day your father knew not what to say.
Off they went in a frantic pace. They could not, would not love that face.
For your mother was human and so was your father.
But neither knew of your great power.
It all happened so quick she had know way to know
that this could happen by helping an erudite push his milk cart out of the
So one day the fire will burn tall and out of control
because Galdor does not know if he is a boy or a girl.
His power grows day by day
as does his shame that dwells inside
for all know he has no pride.
So please keep casting spells to keep yourself alive,
because when you don't the dwarven kind laugh when you take the big dive.
The fire grows, the feelings subside,
Galdor Fireswift just go and hide.
The sun grows bright the moon turns pale.
There is only one erudite we can hail.
Fulfill your prophecy capture the thrown,
your the next in line will wear your pointed hat and gown.
The world awaits your coming, the magic casting clown…
…or something like that I do not remember it all. I was very young but I'm
That's all good day.
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