Winterhaven (Rock & Roll) Parts 1 - 3

The hike to Winterhaven was a relatively short one, only three to four hours on foot. After Alassë told us her story, she became lost in her own thoughts, worrying about her friend, Bolgar. Sariel was quiet as well, looking ahead as we walked, a slight smile on her face as if there was some amusing inside joke she was privately enjoying. Lotheryn was her usual quiet self, taking in everything around us, and, as always, looking far more comfortable now that we were out in Nature and not in the middle of a town. Anca led the group forward, silently of course, managing to ensure that Lotheryn was never more than a quick leap away should she need him. I assigned myself as rearguard, trusting Anca to lead us well and keep us from walking into danger. I would make sure nothing was following us. Lotheryn had keen enough ears to detect any traps, but I didn’t know about our two new companions. Better safe than sorry.

Despite that precaution, it was a beautiful day, and I was just appreciating the silent peacefulness when Anca stopped and gave a deep-throated growl. Lotheryn motioned me forward and pointed at the path. As far as I could see, there were small tracks of clawed feet. The trails crossed and crisscrossed so many times as to render pointless an attempt to track any of them. I recognized the tracks immediately.

“Kobolds, and a heck of a lot of them,” I said, looking at the others. Lotheryn nodded and Sariel never changed her bemused expression (this was starting to get on my nerves a little bit, but I did my best not to let it show). Alassë, however, looked confused.

“Kobolds? I have heard of these creatures, but never encountered them before. What are they?” she asked.

“Nasty overgrown rodents basically. They like harassing innocent people, stealing goods from travelers, that sort of thing. It seems that they’ve taken up residence near Winterhaven. I wouldn’t be too worried. They’re not especially bright, but they will defend their territory to the death if they feel threatened. The group of us should be able to handle any of them we see.” This seemed to satisfy the cleric, but I turned away so she wouldn’t see that there were a couple things I hid from her. Number one, I was sure Lotheryn, Anca, and I could handle a small pack of the critters, but I had no idea of Sariel or Alassë’s abilities. The cleric had a deadly-looking morningstar slung at her waist while the avenger’s falchion was more than capable of dealing lethal damage. But the size of the weapon was irrelevant if the person wielding it had no clue what they were doing. I had seen that lesson learned too many times by people who were denied a chance to rectify the problem. If a fight came, I hoped those two could handle themselves because I wasn’t about to spend the whole time making sure they were okay.

The second thing I was worried about was Alassë’s friend. Kobolds could be dangerous if you met a large number of them or if you were traveling alone. The creatures had no reason to take prisoners, and generally preferred simply to kill and eat anyone who stumbled into them at unawares. Bolgar was traveling alone and was now missing. I’m no detective, but the circumstantial evidence in this case was not promising.

“Garl won’t let us be taken by these creatures before we’ve had a chance to complete our mission.” Sariel offered nonchalantly. “Let’s keep going and see what happens.”

I have to admit that I admired her confidence. It was a bit cockier than I was comfortable with, but the eladrin didn’t seem to be careless. She was secure in whatever it was her god had told her. My god, meanwhile, has been leading me around on a wild goose chase for the last 30 years to find a random group of orcs and my sister. You’ll forgive me if I don’t instinctively trust divinely-inspired “visions.”

Anyway, I just shrugged, “Like I said, I think we could handle them. There’s no sense in staying here. Let’s keep moving…but I would get your weapons out just in case.” Confidence was one thing, but I wasn’t about to be caught walking into a nest of kobolds without getting at least one shot off.

Two minutes later, I got my opportunity. We rounded a bend in the path and there were 6 of them, snarling and looking ready to eat the first thing that came within chewing distance. The kobolds were ready for us. Two of them saw us and immediately threw their spears in our direction. We managed to dodge out of the way, unharmed.

Lotheryn was the first to spring into action. With a cold gleam in her eye, she summoned a fire under one of the larger kobolds, burning him badly and completely consuming his smaller companion. Later it would occur to me that this was our first real battle since the druid witnessed the destruction of her Grove. In our previous adventures, Lotheryn was so focused on helping others in battle that she would often go entire fights without directly attacking an enemy. It appeared that those days were over. She still made sure she was available to provide aid should someone require it, but she had developed a hard, deadly edge. Just as she had tapped into forces of Nature to prolong life, she now used that power to destroy her adversaries. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

To my left, I saw Sariel standing perfectly still, eyes closed, that same bemused smile on her lips. In the heat of battle, everything slows down; it seemed like the avenger stood there, motionless, for minutes. In reality, it was probably only a second before she opened her eyes and stared directly at one of the kobolds across the road. She muttered something under her breath and sprinted gracefully toward her new nemesis, brandishing her falchion and making quick work of the unsuspecting beast.

Anca had also charged left, and occupied the attention of the two other kobolds standing there. I was impressed as he deftly wielded a heavy warhammer in one arm with a large wooden shield strapped to the other.

I remember when he obtained both items. Before I went to see about getting a new flail, I asked Anca if he wanted to come and look at some weapons for his own use. He still possessed many wolf-like properties, but he no longer had the weapons-grade claws or fangs that made him dangerous in his previous form. Anca shook his head and uttered something to Lotheryn in the lupine tongue.

The druid smiled, a rare occurrence the first few weeks after her tragedy, and translated, “Anca says that Nature will provide what he needs. He does not need the work of men or metal.” Anca looked at me pointedly and then walked into the woods. He returned less than an hour later with the hammer and shield, formed out of the wood of an alder tree. In a display of trust, he handed them to me to inspect. Though made of wood, both items were as hard as steel and perfectly crafted. I handed them back to the shifter and watched as he placed the hammer into our campfire. To my astonishment, it did not burn.

Until now, I had never seen him use either of the implements, but he swung the hammer with precision, and the shield seemed almost an extension of his arm as he blocked the kobolds’ blows. The warden was an even more impressive fighter now than he had been as a wolf.

Alassë seemed a tad unsure of herself at first, but threw herself into melee combat with one of the kobolds as soon as a spear hurtled by, inches from her face. I could hear her pray as she fought with her morningstar, beseeching Torm to grant us favor over these enemies of the law.

I fired a couple of arrows at the creatures, but the fight was over almost as soon as it had begun. We had a couple of scrapes and bruises to show for our battle, but nothing serious. I was pleased with the way things went. Certainly if we traveled together for very long we would see tougher fights than this, but it was a good start.

We arrived in Winterhaven with no further incident. My first suggestion (for obvious reasons) was to find the local tavern. It’s important, for, you know, fact-finding missions, and stuff. Also, there’s ale.

When we located the tavern on the first floor of Wrafton's Inn, we went inside and made ourselves comfortable. The innkeeper came over and introduced herself as Sylvana Wrafton. She seemed friendly enough, but was clearly troubled. Other than one boisterous man with a small crowd around him, there were only a few scattered patrons.

“What can I do for you folks?" Wrafton asked. "You’re not from here, are ya? Don’t recuhnize you ‘tall. Been tough times for us recently, what with the kobold problem. Traders and visitors stayin’ mostly away. But I don’t mean ta bore y'all with that talk.”

“Oh we know all about the kobold problem,” I said. “We subtracted 6 from your problem on our way in. But I gather the problem is a tad bigger than that.” The innkeeper grunted in agreement. I continued, “We are actually here looking for a friend of ours. Do you know a dwarf named Bolgar? He came through the town a couple weeks ago and has since gone missing. Any idea where we might be able to find him?”

Sylvana looked thoughtful for a minute. “Name sounds familiar, but can’t say I know where he went. If anyone knows, it’s Eilian over there. He knows everyone.” She pointed to the large man who was currently passing for the inn’s entertainment.

I thanked the innkeeper and told my companions to wait while I went to talk to Eilian. He shook my hand as if we were old friends. When I asked about Bolgar, he knew immediately who I was talking about.

“Yes, yes, I remember your friend. Came through a couple of weeks ago, eh? Yes, he approached me for some information. He was looking for Valthrun, the resident scholar round these parts.” Eilian turned and pointed at a small, bespectacled man sitting by himself in a corner, sipping a hot drink and reading. “He wanted to know about some dragon burial grounds or some such thing. Apparently the dwarf got the information he was looking for because I saw him leaving the city to the southwest, loaded down with digging equipment.”

The man grew somber all of a sudden, “If he’s missing, I hope he hasn’t run into those dirty kobolds. They’ve been terrorizing this place too long. I know this town could use any help it can get with those things. Lord Padraig is tearing his hair out.”

I talked to him for awhile longer, bought him a beer for his troubles and then wandered over to Valthrun, who basically confirmed the Eilian's story. He mentioned that Bolgar was convinced there was a dragon burial site with some sort of treasure to the southeast of town. Valthrun had heard rumors of such a thing, but they were vague and unsubstantiated. The scholar was polite, but appeared more interested in his book than my queries. I returned to my companions.

I related all I had learned to Sariel, Anca, Alassë, and Lotheryn. We decided that it would be a good idea to speak with this Lord Padraig and find out more about the kobold problem. It seemed his problem and ours might be linked.

As we walked to his offices, I could tell there was something bothering Lotheryn.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing really,” the druid responded. “I just noticed an elf sitting alone in the tavern. He looked upset so I went to see if I could find out what was wrong. He cursed at me and told me to mind my own business. He was the surliest elf I have ever encountered. It just bothers me that in these hard times even people who seem like friends become enemies.”

“Well, if we see him again, I’ll give him something to be surly about.” I promised her, subtly puffing out my chest and flexing my arms. She smiled at me and seemed to cheer up a bit. That’s right. I’m smooth.

Anyway, we arrived shortly at Padraig’s manor. The guards out front stopped us and asked if we had an appointment. I lied and told them yes. I don’t have time for bureaucratic nonsense. Luckily for me, they didn’t bother verifying my claim and they let us in.

Padraig was a short, fat balding man with an expression on his face that seemed to indicate he had been losing even more hair lately. This kobold problem was weighing on his mind, and he told us as much. Loudly, I might add.

“I’m so glad you adventurers are here! We need people like you. I never thought that disbanding the militia would have such dire consequences! We have no one to fight this menace and the city is losing money daily! This city is the jewel of the region! Winterhaven has always been a trend setter, you know. But with the local trade market floundering, I don’t know what to do!” He said this all while pacing back and forth about 73 times in front of his desk.

I felt bad for this man, mainly because it was obvious the town was suffering from the kobold attacks, but also because he was clearly suffering from delusion. “The jewel of the region?” Maybe in the same way a dirt clod would be considered the jewel of a mudpit. Winterhaven was not much to look at and at its best moments would not rival any of the large urban centers in the south or the west. But I didn’t tell him as much. Instead I asked him for a minute so I could confer briefly with my companions.

“Well, what do you think? Should we offer to help?” I asked.

Sariel spoke up immediately in that blunt, confident way of hers. “Yes, it is right that we do so. People here are downcast and joyless. Something must be done.”

Alassë agreed. “And we may find Bolgar by investigating these kobolds. Torm does not want this injustice to continue.”

Lotheryn agreed, "We should help stop the suffering." Anca looked at me silently but did not seem to disagree. He would follow his ward wherever she went. I turned back to Padraig.

“Alright, Mayor Padraig…”

“LORD Padraig, if you please,” he interrupted.

I rolled my eyes. “Lord Padraig, excuse my mistake. We will help you with your kobold problem as it appears solving your problem may solve ours.” I considered briefly asking him for some sort of compensation for our services, but that felt wrong to me. The citizens of this town needed help, not blackmail. I also thought that any promise this guy made probably wasn’t worth the contents of his privy.

The man thanked us profusely, drew us a map for the presumed location of the kobold’s lair, and sent us on our way. Even though the map advised us to go straight west, we went southwest first, hoping to find some sign of Bolgar. It was mid-afternoon at that point, but we wanted to get started immediately.

We were making good time when we stumbled across another group of the rodent-like creatures. There were several more of them this time, and these were better armed than the other kobolds we had dispatched. One of them seemed to be the leader of the group and immediately began casting all sorts of nasty spells at us.

Maybe it was because we were tired from the long day, or maybe it was because of our lack of experience fighting beside each other, but we had all sorts of trouble during the battle. The caster gave us fits, hitting us with fireballs and then darting behind trees. Lotheryn tried desperately to freeze him in place but couldn’t hit the agile beast. Anca had his hands full with two of the bigger kobolds. I shot arrow after arrow to no avail. At one point, I tried summoning my lance of faith, the cleric spell Bolgar had taught me. It shot out of my hand and hit nothing. I went back to my bow, but my aim was so bad, at one point I simply dropped it on the ground in frustration, took out my flail and short sword, and charged after anything that moved. Unfortunately, when I caught up with something, it turned around and gave me a few pike thrusts to the torso. Alassë and I were both bleeding profusely from multiple wounds by the time Lotheryn and Sariel chased down the last kobold and slew it.

As I sat there, bleeding, sore, and exhausted, I wondered (not for the last time, I’m sure) what the heck I was doing. Here I was, traveling with three women, two of whom I’d known for less than a day, and a wolf-elf thing who couldn’t speak. I was dealing with phony “lords” and fighting kobolds. Meanwhile, my sister might be out there somewhere. The orcs who destroyed my family might be destroying others. I was a ranger. I shouldn’t be here. I should be moving silently through forests, tracking my enemies, hunting alone…

“Are you hurt badly?” Lotheryn’s soft voice and gentle touch at my shoulder roused me from my self-pity. “Here, let me tend to that.”

I sighed as she dressed my numerous wounds. There were advantages to not being alone, I suppose. I looked around at the remnants of our battle. Dead kobolds lay strewn about. Anca was standing at the edge of the clearing, yellow eyes alert for more foes. Alassë was dressing her own wounds and appeared to be examining something with Sariel. They were discussing the item when Lotheryn finished her treatment. We sauntered over.

Alassë held out a scuffed bronze medallion with a strange symbol on it. “Sariel found this on the kobold caster,” she said. “The symbol you see is the symbol of Orcus, the god of undeath. Why would a kobold have it?” She asked, puzzled.

“I have no idea,” I admitted. “These kobolds probably picked it up off of some curio merchant they waylaid on the road. Strange.” To be honest, I was too tired to care at the moment. I said, “Let’s move down the path a little ways and set up camp. It’s getting late.”

We found a suitable place and made camp. Lotheryn summoned some wood sprites to hide the camp from anything that might wish to disturb us. Still, when Sariel asked everyone to play some sort of strange gnomish truth or lie game, I offered to stand watch. I wasn’t in the mood for games, and it didn’t seem like anyone else was either. The eladrin just shrugged and reclined against a tree, promising that we’d play some other time. I couldn’t wait.

As I paced around the camp, my thoughts went back to my current situation. Why WAS I here? I had traveled with Lotheryn and Anca for quite awhile now, and was growing accustomed to their company. It was a strange thing – wandering alone for so long had made me so used to being my own master that it had taken two years to even start thinking that I was part of a team. But did I like being part of a team? Yes and no.

I considered my day. It had been one of THOSE days. Almost every arrow I shot missed its target. Even when I tried my little cleric trick it had fizzled out to no effect. If I had been by myself, I never would have been in that situation. I could blend in so well with my surroundings that I could always put myself in strategically advantageous positions. And if things went wrong, I knew ways to extricate myself safely and become virtually untraceable. With company like this, that wasn’t an option. The cleric was a nice enough woman, but she made enough noise to wake the dead. The avenger was certainly skilled in battle, but she was convinced her god would guarantee her success, and that made her a little less cautious than I was comfortable with. Even Lotheryn was different than the woman who I had first met two years ago. At least the group was fine with me being the de facto leader. Lotheryn and I had a mutual understanding about our roles in the party, so I wasn’t worried about that, but if one of these holier-than-thou women started preaching at me all the time, things were going to get awkward.

These thoughts raced around in my head during my two-hour watch shift. At the end, I finally settled on something. The bottom line was that I wanted to do good in this world and I wanted there to be some semblance of justice. I didn’t always agree with my companions on how justice needed to be implemented and maintained, but as long as we had that same basic goal, I was content traveling with these people. I would not, however, let the group affect who I was. I was a ranger and I would use my skills and my training to the best of my ability, whether everyone agreed with my methods or not. To be effective, I had to be more than just a blunt instrument of war – that was for other people. I had to be quick on my feet and quick with my mind, using stealth as an asset. If I fought the way I knew best, it would be better for the group in the long run, right? So why would I try to do anything else? This conclusion satisfied me enough to where my mind could have some peace. Just then Anca shambled up, ready to relieve me from my watch. I fell asleep almost immediately.

The night passed uneventfully. I woke before anyone else feeling refreshed and in a much better mood. I hunted a boar, and fried up some ham. I enjoyed it, but I got the sense that everyone else was merely being polite when they said they liked it. Sariel’s thinly-veiled grimace told me all I needed to know. This was the problem traveling with women. If it was men, they would have just come out and told me they hated my cooking. At least Anca appreciated the boar – he ate more helpings than I did.

Our hike continued. Before long, we found ourselves on the edge of a large dug-out pit. There was a path leading down and a lot of activity going on in the center. I could make out a number of scabbily dressed humans with picks and shovels digging around a large dragon skeleton. Bolgar had been right. There WAS a burial ground.

The humans weren’t the only ones there, though. Directing the activity was a large humanoid, a sort of half dragon, half man - a dragonborn. There were two more standing guard on the path leading down to the pit. They were large beasts, each wielding a heavy, wicked-looking axe. I was motioning everyone back into the cover of the trees when the pit boss looked up and saw us.

“You there!” he said in a raspy voice, “Come on down! You should see this! We are about to unearth something fantastic!”

We moved hesitantly to the edge of the pit. The guards didn’t move a muscle. The boss continued to beckon us. I called back, “Where is Bolgar? We were told we would find him here!”

The boss answered, “He is helping us! He must have just stepped out for a minute. He will be back shortly. Come on down and see what he has helped us find!”

Somewhere at the back of my mind, something was bothering me. I just couldn’t place it. Lotheryn turned to me and whispered, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

I looked at everyone else. “I don’t feel great about it either, but what choice do we have? Bolgar could be down there somewhere, and there’s a chance these things are actually friendly. I say we go.”

For the first time, Sariel looked unsure of herself. There was a brief moment when that familiar smile left her face. But she regained her composure enough to grin and say, “Garl will grant me joy in all I do. Let’s go.” Alassë agreed. Lotheryn shook her head and turned away, but mumbled that she would go as well. Anca’s yellow eyes gleamed with danger. It wasn't exactly unanimous, but the choice had been made.

We started down the path. About a third of the way down, Lotheryn’s suspicions were confirmed. The pit boss screeched, “GET THEM!” and the guards charged. It was then that I noticed a fourth dragonborn making his way towards us around the outside of the pit. After all that thinking I did last night, the first chance I got and I mistrusted my instincts. Life was never that simple.

The two guards bullrushed Alassë, catching her offguard. She fell to one knee, bravely trying to fight them off. Sariel joined the fray, parrying with her falchion. Anca charged in as well, trying to distract the dragonborn from the fallen cleric. I looked around for Lotheryn, only to see a wolf leap into the scrum, biting at the guards. I still couldn't get used to that.

I stepped back and started firing volleys just as the pit boss got involved. He moved towards us and began hitting Anca with arcane blasts. I noticed the human excavators had picked up their tools and were running toward us as well, making sure to steer clear of the digging area. I tried to keep one eye on the fourth dragonborn, still making its way around the pit. I heard Alassë cry out in pain as one of the guards connected with a mighty swing of his axe. She called out to Torm before falling unconscious. Torm either wasn’t paying attention or this was one of those “trust me” moments that Ehlonna had made me so familiar with. Gods were funny that way. I yelled to Lotheryn who was already morphing back into an elf and trying to twist her way through the fracas to the cleric’s fallen body.

Sariel and Anca managed to bring down one of the guards just as the pit boss and his human lackeys joined our little tea party. I put my bow away and unsheathed my flail and shortsword. I needed to give Lotheryn room to work on Alassë.

“Hey ugly!” I shouted at the pit boss. “You got anything better than those lame balls of light you were tossing over here?”

The dragonborn screamed at me and rushed over. Well, that should give Lotheryn enough time to stabilize the cleric. I just hoped I could back up my words and handle this dragon-thing. The fight went on for some time before I finally landed a solid blow on the boss. Without a sound, he disappeared. By now the other dragonborn were dead, and only several of the human diggers remained. I took a second to catch my breath and then addressed the humans.

“Your masters are dead. We have no grudge with you. Leave now and we’ll spare your lives.” For once I was tired of fighting. I’d be more than happy if these dirty rabble rousers just turned tail and ran…

Except all these guys could do was grip their picks and shovels tighter and point behind me, muttering something about a dragon. I turned, seeing nothing.

Frustrated, I started again, “Listen! Did you hear what I said? You can go free! Get out…” I was cut off by a shriek as the boss reappeared, wielding his giant axe and looking ready to relieve my neck from having to carry my head around. Anca jumped past me, intercepting him and tearing into the dragonborn with unmitigated fury. Sariel and I flanked the boss and soon we finished him off, along with the humans who declined to take my invitation to keep their lives. Lotheryn was finally able to get Alassë back on her feet. The half elf was clearly shaken, but she appeared to be okay. She gave a prayer of thanks to Torm as we made our way down to the burial site. Her weariness left her when she noticed her mentor, Bolgar, bound in a dark corner of the pit. She ran over, untied him, and embraced him.

“Alassë!" Bolgar exclaimed as he was set free. "Torm has certainly blessed me! I should have known this venture would be trouble.” Bolgar held Alassë by the shoulders and gave her a smile. Then he turned to the rest of us. “Thank you all. I cannot say that enough.” He noticed Lotheryn and I. “This IS a small land, is it not? If you are here, then your little run in with the dragon must have gone well. Taran, do you still have the faith to summon that divine lance I showed you?”

“It comes and goes, but I’m still working on it,” I said, not wishing to get into a theological discussion at this juncture. I changed the subject. “Let’s see what it is these dragon-guys were so worked up about.”

We found the object they had been excavating and pulled it out of the hole. It was…a mirror. A mirror? All that for a lousy looking glass? There was nothing especially interesting about the mirror, other than that it was in pristine condition. I would have expected a mirror buried in an ancient grave to be at least a little dirty, but this thing was clean as a whistle. Other than that, no one could discover anything unusual or magical about it. I knew that it couldn't have been just an ordinary mirror, otherwise why would a bunch of dragonborn be so interested in it? I surely didn't know, but I had an idea about who might be able to help us find out.

“I know someone who can help us figure out what this mirror is. Valthrun. Bolgar needs to get back to town anyway, and we could certainly use a good night’s sleep. Why don’t we head back to town, rest up, ask the scholar about the mirror and get started on the kobold problem tomorrow?” I asked, hopefully. The plan met unanimous approval.

Before we left, we searched the bodies of the dragonborn for any clue as to why they might have been interested in the site. We didn’t find anything of that nature, but the leader did have a fancy looking necklace. Sariel identified it as a magical necklace of protection. Judging from the last couple battles it seemed like Alassë could use all the protection she could get. We gave the necklace to her.

When we got back to town, Bolgar took his leave, thanking us once again and explaining that he had to get home to his wife. He embraced Alassë and we watched him make his way out of town. We stopped at the tavern and found the scholar sitting at the same table we’d left him, nose still buried in a book. Unfortunately, Lord Padraig happened to be there as well.

“Ladies, gentlemen. I gather from your presence here that you’ve solved the kobold issue?” He asked, expectantly.

I turned to my female companions who were staring in every direction but at me or Padraig. Anca appeared uninterested in the whole thing. I was on my own for this one. I cleared my throat and tried to explain, “Well, we WERE on our way, but we got sidetracked by some evil dragonborn southwest of here. You’ll be happy to know that your dragonborn problem has been solved, and our friend Bolgar has been found…”

The man flew into a rage, “Bolgar? Dragonborn?!? I’ll be HAPPY when my townspeople can travel without fear of attack from kobolds!” he yelled. He collected himself somwhat before continuing. “I don’t know why you are back," he said between clenched teeth, "but you’d best get out there soon and do what you promised. People are dying!” With that, Lord Padraig stormed out of the tavern.

“That went well,” I muttered. I turned back to my companions, all of whom were looking rather sheepish. I sighed, “Let’s go talk to Valthrun and then get some rest.”

To our chagrin, Valthrun wasn’t much help. He promised to do some research for us while we took care of the kobold business, but he had no idea of the mirror’s origins. In the meantime, we would have to carry around a mirror wherever we went. It’s a good thing mirrors are so useful when trying to exterminate kobolds…

Padraig’s impatience notwithstanding, we spent the night at the inn, easing our aches and pains from the last battle. Before setting out in the morning, we stopped by the local adventuring provisioner, Bairwin's Grand Shoppe. I was in the process of talking Bairwin Wildarson, the owner of the establishment, down from his ridiculous 50 gold asking price for health potions when our surly elf friend walked in.

Bairwin looked unhappy at his new customer and mumbled something about "that damned Ninaran", but didn’t say anything aloud as the elf wandered around the store, muttering to himself and glancing at us angrily from time to time. I kept a not-so-subtle eye on him while I continued my negotiations. When I saw him push Lotheryn roughly out of his way, I lost my temper.

“Anca, if you would kindly escort this Ninaran off the premises…” I said roughly. I looked at the shifter who growled in reply and seemed more than happy to oblige.

The elf just glared at me and started to object, “What gives you the right…” but he was cut off as Anca bodily lifted him and tossed him out the front door. The owner seemed relieved and was finally convinced to lower his prices a bit. We got our potions and left the town, this time following the map Padraig had given us.

We traveled for half the day before we heard familiar sounds of snarling and other kobold-ish noises coming from a stand of trees in front of us. As we moved closer, we looked through the trees and saw roughly a dozen kobolds milling about on both sides of a shallow river just on the other side of the trees. I held up my hand and backed the group out of earshot. It was a miracle the kobolds weren’t already alerted to our presence, and I wasn't going to blow that now.

“There are 12 kobolds in the clearing up ahead," I whispered. "They don’t know we’re here. Most of them appear to be small minions, although there are a couple that might give us more trouble. There’s one right inside those trees, standing in some kind of runed circle. I can sneak close enough to get a point blank shot at him. Stay back for now, but be ready to join the fight once you hear the thing scream in pain.”

Lotheryn nodded, but Alassë shook her head. “We should come with you,” she said. "We will help."

Sariel concurred, “I was a thief in my former life, I could sneak up there as well.”

I shook my head firmly. I was NOT backing down from my instincts on this one. “Look,” I said, “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but the more people who come with me, the better chance they’ll hear us. Also, I can use my bow to take a shot. You both will have to charge in, which will set the whole place moving. Let me do this. Alone.” I was adamant. I could tell that neither the cleric nor the avenger agreed with my decision, but I didn’t care. My bowmanship may have been downright terrible lately, but here was my chance to do more in battle than simply provide a distraction. Before they could offer another protest, I crept off toward the trees.

My years of training and experience took over. I knew exactly where to step, exactly when to move. Before I knew it, I was crouched behind a large bush, an arrow nocked, and the bow bent to my cheekbone. I released and the arrow struck true, burying itself in the torso of the nearest kobold. The creature shrieked and began clamoring for help. In the blink of an eye, the eladrin was next to me. Sariel sprang into the middle of the kobolds, slashing the wounded one with her falchion. In another second, though, she was surrounded by 7 of the beasts, all threatening her with spears. She closed her eyes for a split second, and when she opened them, she appeared to single out one of the creatures, muttering a prayer under her breath as she prepared to strike. (I made a mental note to ask about this later.) As skilled as the avenger was, I didn’t see any way she was going to get out of this unscathed. Alassë was still making her way through the trees. Anca was trying to head off another kobold that had come around the trees and begun tossing poisonous goo at us. I was fumbling with my quiver, trying to prepare another shot.

Suddenly, with a burst of flame, all of the kobolds surrounding Sariel were incinerated. Lotheryn had wiped out half the group with one spell. I glanced over at the druid, but she was already moving to help Anca. Other than some trouble pinning down the goo-hurler, we handled the rest of the kobolds without issue. The last one living made a break for a nearby waterfall, yelling for aid. My arrow brought him down before a second cry could escape his lips. We waited in silence, anticipating the reinforcements that would be coming. After several minutes, we knew that we had escaped further confrontation for the moment.

We took a quick break to gather ourselves before searching the area. There wasn’t anything of value in the clearing, but the dying kobold had inadvertently shown us where we needed to go. I pointed out a faint path leading behind the waterfall.

I walked over to Sariel who was calmly cleaning her falchion. She greeted me with a smile. “A boring affair,” she said jokingly, referring to our skirmish. “Over much too quickly for my tastes. I barely got to do anything!”

“Well, you almost PERMANENTLY didn’t get to do anything," I pointed out. "Those kobolds had you pinned down pretty well,”

She laughed. “Don’t be silly. Garl Glittergold isn’t through with me yet. And Lotheryn saw to it that it stayed that way.”

I shrugged. Finally I got to my main query. “Why is it that you close your eyes before engaging?” I asked. “It seems as if you single out one specific target every time.”

The eladrin grew as serious as I’ve ever seen her. “I do not expect you to understand, but I will explain briefly. Garl, in his divine wisdom, grants me my fighting abilities. Therefore, before I use those abilities, I thank Garl for his blessing and look to him for guidance. In response, Garl points out a single enemy to kill. I then swear an oath to destroy that enemy. My oath can only be fulfilled when the enemy is dead or when Garl instructs me to let it go. I cannot focus on anything else until either of those happens,” the avenger said. She then stood up, strapped her falchion on her back and looked at me. “I know you have conflicted feelings about my devotion to my god. And I understand why you feel that way. But ask yourself, do you question your god because she doesn’t speak to you? Or is it that you don’t hear your god speak because you’re too busy questioning her?” Sariel smiled wryly at me and then walked back to where the others were resting.

I thought about her statement for all of a half second before I put it in the back of my mind. It was an interesting premise, but I had more urgent matters to consider. Like the upcoming battle we were surely going to find once we got behind that waterfall. I walked over to the group and looked at each of my fellow adventurers. Despite my worries, it was a good group. I was confident we could handle whatever awaited us.

Without a word, we turned and headed down the dark path behind the waterfall, into the heart of the kobold’s stronghold.


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Alassë, Alassë

We had been waiting for some time: Lotheryn was studying the terellor that she continued to carry, Anca was relaxing in silence (we soon realized that while Anca was given some of the attributes of elves during his transformation, he retained the powers of speech of a wolf; he could understand our speech, but Lotheryn was the only one who could understand his bestial language), and I was getting bored. Sariel appeared content to wait quietly, sometimes entering into a lively, one-sided conversation with her god, Garl. I left to pick up my flail from the smith and when I returned, I saw a half-elf woman talking to my companions.

I walked up to the group, “So, who is our new friend?”

The half-elf introduced herself, “I am Alassë, daughter and cleric of Torm the Lawmaker. I was just discussing some matters of faith with your friends. You must be Taran,” she smiled warmly as she touched her cheek in a manner of greeting.

“I am,” I said, as I felt a tug on my arm. It was Lotheryn.

“Taran, can I speak with you a minute in private?” She said as she practically dragged me away.

“What is it?” I asked. The druid had a very uncharacteristic look of annoyance on her face.

“Well, this cleric approached us and began giving us her spiel on her god. She seems very nice and respectful, but I can’t say I’m particularly in the mood for preaching at the moment. Meanwhile, our new 'adventuring partner,'" she cast a sidelong glance at Sariel, "is trying to convince Alassë that she needs to join our group, as mandated by Greg Gordglitter or whatever her god’s name is. Since then, it’s just been a lot of theological debate. I’ve been trying to mediate between the two, but this is beyond me.” Lotheryn said, exasperated.

“Alright,” I said as I patter her on the shoulder. “I’ll see if I can extract us from this so we can be on our way.”

Just as we were heading back to the group, we heard a rider approaching. It appeared to be a dwarf woman on a pony, riding at breakneck speed (well, breakneck for a dwarf on a pony – it was actually rather comical to see, a feeling I felt bad about a minute later). The dwarf woman rode up to us and stopped suddenly, out of breath and looking distraught. Apparently my day hadn’t been strange enough.

“Kardra?!?” Alassë exclaimed, lending a hand to the dwarf as she dismounted. “What brings you here?”

Kardra caught her breath. “It’s Bolgar! I…I waited as long as I thought was appropriate, but I had to tell someone.”

Something rang a bell. Bolgar…Bolgar...where had I heard that name? I listened as the woman continued, speaking directly to Alassë. “I didn’t tell you this when you left the church last week, but Bolgar sent word several weeks ago that he was almost home. He was stopping to see a friend in Winterhaven…”

“Wait!” I interjected. “Bolgar? Is he a cleric of Torm? Was he travelling in the Northern Reaches about a year ago?”

Now it was someone else’s turn to look confused for once. Alassë looked at me, perplexed, and asked, “How did you know that?”

I exchanged glances with Lotheryn and Anca. “Well, let’s just say that’s a longer story than we have time for. I’ll give you the condensed version. We happened across your friend while we were involved in our own expedition in the Northern Reaches. He was chronicling the history of the area as some sort of mission his god had put him on. He travelled with us for some time before we parted ways. Nice guy.” I left out the part about him being almost unbearably righteous, but the rest was true.

“Well, he’s missing!” Kardra blurted. Alassë looked stunned. The dwarf woman continued, “I didn’t tell you earlier, Alassë, because Bolgar didn’t want you interrupting your work to wait for his return. His message said that he was going to stop in Winterhaven and see how a friend there was getting along before he came home. I thought it was strange when he didn’t send word after a couple of weeks, but I knew something was wrong when his friend showed up at the church yesterday and told me he’d never seen Bolgar! I came here as fast as I could.”

Alassë sat down and put her head in her hands. This was obviously hitting her hard. She looked up finally. “I have to go find him,” she said determinedly. She got to her feet and clasped her hands around Kardra’s. “I will leave at once. Do not worry. With Torm’s blessing, I will return him safely to you and the church.”

“We are coming with you!” Sariel said, rather unexpectedly.

“What was that?” Alassë said, looking at the eladrin.

“What was that?” I asked, also looking quizzically at Sariel.

Sariel laughed and shook her head. “I knew you still didn’t believe me. I told you we had a quest we were waiting for. Garl revealed it to me. This is our quest. We must find this man. It is right that we do so.”

This is crazy, I thought. A new flail, a strange gnome-elf-woman from faerie land, a pious half-elf cleric, a distraught dwarf woman, and now a random quest I was supposed to embark on. I needed a large mug of ale. Badly.

I was thinking about which bar I should go to first, when Lotheryn spoke up. “Anca and I will go.” She looked at me. “Anca told me that he felt the urge to do this. I feel the same way. It IS right that we go. The man was very kind to us on our journey. We should find him.”

“Well, I guess I need to break in this new flail sometime, and I’m sure this will give me the opportunity. Let’s get to it then,” I said, secretly lamenting that I wasn’t going to get any ale. I wasn’t sure about Torm and Garl, but I trusted Lotheryn and Anca. If their instincts said it was right, then it wasn’t my place to argue.

The cleric looked shocked at our offer to help. She fell to her knees, closed her eyes and appeared to be praying. When she opened them, she looked at each of us and said, “What Torm has provided, it is not in my place to refuse. I thank you for your commitment.” She rose and turned to Kardra, who was still looking fairly pale. “This is a sign from Torm. He will bless our search. Keep yourself safe, and we will return.”

With that, we left the dwarf and made our way onto the road out of town. We began the journey to Winterhaven. As we travelled, Alassë shared with us her “testimony,” as she called it.

She grew up in a modest home with her elven father, half-elf mother, and six older brothers. She had travelled quite a bit as a child; her parents had been disciples of Torm and took the children with them on their mission trips. When she turned 12, she was enrolled in school at the local church, just as her brothers had done. Each of her brothers, save the one closest to her in age, had become paladins of Torm, and protected missionaries on their travels. The other brother, Aelar, nearest to her in both age and in personality, became disillusioned with the church. He had become increasingly contentious in his classes, until Alassë confronted him about it. Aelar revealed that he felt that Torm’s teachings were weak and created a mindless devotion to law and justice. He felt that he was being pushed, against his will, into subservience to a powerless god. The day after this conversation, Aelar’s 18th birthday, Alassë found that her brother was gone. He had taken all of his possessions and left the church for good. The family had not had contact with him since. I could hear the sadness in the cleric’s voice as she spoke of him. It was obvious that they had been very close.

Alassë, however, took to the church’s teachings with complete enthusiasm. She excelled in her religion and history courses. The half-elf loved to study the tenets of justice and law that were the main doctrines of Torm. She performed so well in her classes that one of the high priests, the aforementioned Bolgar, took her under his wing and trained her personally. He even taught her the language of the dwarves – a rare thing, since dwarves guard their native tongue closely. His hope was that she would become a cleric and a missionary for Torm, surpassing even her parents in service to the church, and possibly even spreading Torm’s message to secluded dwarven kingdoms. Bolgar became like a second father to her.

As her brothers before her, she also had a passion and a skill for melee combat. Almost impossibly, she worked just as diligently on her combat tactics as she did on her apologetics courses. By the time she was 18, she could recite entire chapters from the Torm’s Holy Book of Law while she was knocking down paladins twice her size with a morningstar. She was initiated on her 18th birthday as a cleric of Torm's church. Soon after, she began her missionary work. She alternated between travelling to regional dwarven clans to evangelize for Torm, and performing consulting work for local townships and colonies, helping them with their legal structure. (This last part sounded about as exciting to me as reading a book about the germination of fir trees, which I have already checked off my list of things to do before I die, as you may recall). She had been making these trips for the last 10 years. Three of those years were spent on an extended journey across the Olarian Sea, sailing from island to island, teaching the clans of humans that she found there, and helping reveal to them what she referred to as the Light of Torm.

As diligent and successful as Alassë was in her work throughout these years, she noticed that Bolgar seemed less and less content every time she returned to her home church. The dwarf, normally jovial, was often brooding and spoke gruffly to those who approached him. On her homeward journey from a mission, roughly a year and a half ago, the half-elf decided that she needed to find out what was at the root of the old cleric’s issues. When she arrived, she found that Bolgar was gone. He had left her a note:

Dearest Alassë,

I am so proud of the work you are doing in the name of Torm. If the rest of us had half your determination, this world would never know injustice again. I apologize for my attitude in recent times. Without a pupil like you into whom I can pour my knowledge, I have not felt at peace. I feel that Torm has a new calling for me. He is asking me to travel to a distant land called the Northern Reaches. I do not know His purpose (who ever really does?), but possibly He means it as a scouting expedition for beginning a new church there. Pray that I may complete His task and return safely.

I will be gone for some time. See that Kardra is well taken care of and spend time with her when you can.

In Torm’s Law,
Bolgar

Alassë was saddened by her mentor’s departure, but she knew that Torm’s will was not something to be questioned. She praised her god for his wisdom and continued with her work. She was in the middle of a consulting trip to the city when she found us.

And so here we were, five travellers on our way to a town called Winterhaven - Anca, Lotheryn, Sariel, Alassë, and I. A mute shapeshifter, a nature-obsessed druid, a lighthearted religious faerie warrior, a pious half-elf cleric, and me, ranger of the wilds, hunter of orcs, and lover of fine ales. (Also a damned fine writer, if I did say so myself.) This was an eclectic group, to be sure.

It could be worse, I thought as we continued down the road. I could still be with that crazy gnome...


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Rules and questions

I wanted to post something before we got started regarding rules. Not so much the rules of the game (though maybe there should be a post about that too) but more the rules of how we are going to play. On the whole, I'm really glad that we have a bit of a smaller group this time. I think that will keep the game a little more engaging for everyone and we won't be bogged down waiting for your turn to come back up again. While we aren't going to be in hurry whatsoever, I am going to try to keep the game moving along a little faster than we did last time just so encounters seem a little more exciting.

So two things in order to help move combat faster: 1) Roll attack roles and damage roles at the same time (I think this will save us a surprising amount of time). I'll also assume that you didn't crit unless you tell me you did. That way I won't have to ask, "wait, natural 20?" a bunch of times. 2) When doing any sort of AoE damage, roll the damage first and then attack roles to see who you hit (with bursts and blasts, there is one damage roll but attack roles for each individual enemy). Those two things (especially the first one) should help keep us moving along. As a general rule, giving some thought to what you are going to do next turn would be preferable though we won't expect anyone to be a master tactician so no worries if we get to your turn and you have no idea. Also, it would be great if we could visually represent initiative order. Does anyone have a mini-white board we could use? It would be great to just write everyone's name down once at the beginning of the night and then just write/erase the initiative order for each encounter.

Reading through the Dungeon Master's Guide also gave me some interesting questions to ponder and I thought I would throw them back at you guys to consider.

1) When you speak for your character, does it matter if you speak in 1st or 3rd person? This doesn't have a huge effect but would affect how role play is done. Same goes for me as the DM. Should the monsters/townspeople/etc. talk in first person or 3rd? Do we care at all?

2) Can player's offer advice if their characters aren't present or are unconscious? This again is mostly a role-playing consideration. I would even go further than this and ask whether we want to discuss strategy and offer advice in the middle of an encounter.
Ideas in favor of not giving advice/discussing include: This could bring up some really really interesting role-playing situations. Our party would be more like a sports team than a think-tank. We could totally discuss all the things your character can do when we’re outside of combat, but then when we’re fighting, it’s show time. Realistically, we couldn’t have a powwow on the battlefield to discuss who should go where, etc. We just have to react. In this way, the roleplaying would be really authentic because as we got better at understanding our class, our powers and everyone else’s play style, our party would become more and more efficient in combat. Moreover, I think Dan and I could easily fall in to over-strategizing and it would be to easy for the girls to more or less just do what we said, even if we we’re being mean about it. In this way, the girls take a more active role in combat. Obviously we could explain any rules or powers to them if they didn’t understand but at the end of it, just like it would be in real life, we’d just have to watch them make whatever decision they thought was best for themselves and for the team. Additionally (last point on this one, I promise), the roleplaying could be even further enhanced because everyone could fight in a manner consistent with their character. Is your character a coward? Run away and hide! Take 1 or 2 extra rounds to enter combat, hoping no one notices. Is your character brash and completely unable to be controlled? Bull rush the first dude you see, sprinting around from enemy to enemy, shrugging off their attacks of opportunity. Spend half the time bloodied or unconscious if that is what your character would do. Have fun!!
Ideas against being strict on this issue: It puts a lot of pressure on the girls, which they might or might not appreciate. But especially at the beginning, when everything is so new, they might like a bit of advice. Obviously I’m in favor of the first option since the point of D&D is to play a character, not play to the peak of your ability (it is fundamentally different than WoW in that regard) but this would have to fly with the ladies or it just wouldn’t work out.

3) Can players give other players info such as how many hit points they have left? Another really interesting role playing idea (The DMG was a really good read). Giving out hit point numbers definitely seems to fall into meta-gaming. I’ll know how many hit points you have and could always give a description of how the players looks, relative to their damage. And everyone will always know when someone (player or enemy) is bloodied (less than half their hit points left). This might be really fun and certainly makes things more realistic. (I am the anti-TC. I want you to have no information!!!!)

4) Can players take back what they’ve just said their character does? Are all actions final?

Well, there are some questions for you to ponder. Most are role playing related but I think our last session was really missing some good role playing. D&D is meant to be interactive story telling and I want to incorporate that more into our sessions. Hopefully that will make them much more fun and even a bit ridiculous. On that note, so everyone knows, every session there will be a 100XP role playing bonus that is available to every character. It will be given out only for excellent role playing during that night. It can be consistent role playing the whole time, or it can a single big monologue/backstory/impromptu-whatever. The xp bonus will likely go up as we level. So get hyped.

Let me know what you think. Another post is coming with the back story of what you are doing when we start on Saturday but I’m not sure when I’m going to get that out; might not be until Saturday morning.


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The Curious Tale of Sariel

Lotheryn, Anca, and I found our way to a nearby city. I told Lotheryn that before we began our crusade, I had a little shopping to do. Having lost my flail some months ago, my skill with a bow had increased substantially. However, if you are someone who can feel comfortable without a large spiky ball on a chain nestled at your side, well, you are a better half-elf than I. I needed that cold, heavy steel.

So I found a good blacksmith and talked to him about obtaining a new flail. Luckily, he had just made one for a half-orc who was not going to be able to use it (according to the blacksmith's story, it is advisable not to cheat at card games with mountain trolls; apparently you wind up with two less hands than when you started). I asked him if he could modify the weapon for me, and the smith agreed. He could get it to me by later in the afternoon.

In the meantime, we sat in a nice grassy area in the middle of city, munching on some local fare and really letting our minds wander for the first time in months. I was just about to doze off when I saw someone approaching purposefully. It was a tall slender woman with pale blonde hair. She was similar in appearance to an elf, although she had pointier ears and a longer face. She wore bright-colored robes, light clothing and had a mirthful smile on her face, but I was still rather wary, seeing the large sword strapped to her back.

It turned out that my caution was unnecessary. There was no sense of malice or deception in her voice as she spoke. We had dealt with so many shady characters over the last few years, that it was refreshing to converse someone so openly friendly.

"Hello, travellers! I am Sariel. I was told I could find you here. We have many adventures before us," she said, still smiling genuinely.

I looked at Lotheryn with confusion. She looked just as surprised by the introduction as I was. The only thing that kept me from becoming suspicious again was the calmness of Anca. Anca could sense danger better than any of us, and the shifter was as relaxed as I'd seen him. So I turned back to the woman and made the obvious reply, "Huh?"

She laughed and sat down next to us on the grass. "My god, Garl Glittergold, gave me a vision while I was entranced. I saw representations of the three of you, and felt called to join you on your journey, whatever that may be."

That name sounded familiar. I said, "Wait, Gary Glitter? Isn't that the guy who..."

Sariel rolled her eyes as she cut me off. "No, there is no relation. Garl is the patron god of the gnomes, the god of laughter and jokes, the god of community, and a lover of justice."

This was getting more confusing as we went along. "But you're not..."

"A gnome? I know," she said, as if she expected the question. "I will explain it to you as we wait for our fifth companion."

This time Lotheryn was the one who spoke up. "Our fifth companion?" she inquired.

"Yes, we must wait for her here. Garl revealed a fifth to me, and, unless I am mistaken in my vision, this is where she will meet us. This is where our quest will also be revealed." A quest now, too? Sariel spoke with such confidence that I didn't feel it was my place to question her. Ehlonna had never given me those kinds of visions, that's for certain. Maybe she was crazy (the woman, not Ehlonna; although with the things I'd been through...). But she seemed nice enough, and we had to wait here anyway. Lotheryn didn't seem to mind, so I saw no harm in letting this play its course.

As we lounged, Sariel told us her story. It was a bit odd to hear the entire life story of someone I had known for mere minutes, but she was convinced that joining us on a quest was the will of her god. It was clear from the beginning that her somewhat checkered past and passion for justice would fit in well with Lotheryn and I. Here's her tale, as I recall it.

She was actually a princess of a very wealthy and powerful Eladrin household. Lotheryn was somewhat familiar with Eladrin, being related through ancestral blood (Eladrin represent the modern day manifestation of the Fey creatures that elves evolved from). I, however, had no clue about the people. Sariel explained to me that Eladrin lived in a place called the Feywild, a realm where faerie creatures and creatures descended from faerie still thrive. This realm "floated" on a separate plane of existence that was loosely connected to our world, allowing Eladrin to travel back and forth. The city that her family ruled straddled the very edge of the Feywild and would appear and disappear in this world at various times. None of that made a bit of sense to me, but I went along with it.

The reason for her family's close ties with the "real" world was because a lot of the wealth and power her family had earned had come from their provision of military aid and resources to other good races (notably Elves, Humans, and Halflings) in their struggles against orcs and whatnot. Sariel explained that this wasn't exactly typical of an Eladrin society, but that despite their involvement with other races, they still maintained a sense of superiority and detachment from this world.

She had grown up in the palace, living a life of comfort. She was kind of spoiled throughout much of her childhood, although she never took herself or her family as seriously as her formal training in grace and manners seemed to suggest she should.

One day, a group of gnomes showed up while her city was present in the non-Feywild world (this was getting confusing, and also reminding me of Cat Stevens songs). The gnomes asked for assistance in dealing with an encroachment of giants and ogres onto the lands adjacent to theirs. The Eladrin were generally friendly with gnomes, having shared a descendancy from creatures in the Feywild. However, Sariel's father, the magistrate, was becoming increasingly wary of involvement outside of the Feywild. The last venture he had taken had turned out poorly for the Eladrin, and he wanted to be more cautious. He told the gnomes that he needed time to consult with his council. He would send word in a week.

Meanwhile, Sariel had been given the task of making sure the gnomes were taken care of properly during their stay at her palace. This gave her the opportunity to get to know them, having never seen gnomes before. Sariel found she liked their sense of humor and quirkiness, and appreciated their love of beautiful objects. She quickly took a liking to one of the clerics who was with the gnomes, fascinated by his stories of exploits in the service of his god, Garl Glittergold.

Sariel began to ruminate on how unsatisfied she was with her current lifestyle. Her parents were pressuring her to train in wizardry, claiming that the arcane arts were suitable for someone of her upbringing. Sariel was much more interested in close combat and swordplay, even taking secret lessons from a schoolfriend who had joined the palace guard. It seemed that even her god, Corellon, wasn't nearly as much fun as this god the gnomes spoke of. Sariel, being trusting and open with her thoughts, shared her unhappiness with the cleric.

The morning that the gnomes were set to leave, disappointed in not yet getting an answer from the magistrate, the cleric approached Sariel in secret and asked her to leave with them and join his order. He recognized that her sense of humor and lightheartedness would mesh well in their community. He offered to take her to his monastery and train her in the martial arts, while also showing her the ways of Garl, who would appreciate her personality and bless her for her devotion. Being a tad naïve as to what this all would entail, she eagerly accepted and snuck away with the gnomes when they left.

Sariel was unaware of the backlash this would cause. Her parents were greatly angered and sent guards to bring her back, but she refused. The gnomes were supportive of her position and encouraged her to remain with them, even though the eladrin had decided not to lend support to their cause against the invaders. Sariel's parents soon cut off all contact with her. In the meantime, her training commenced and she was subjected to the most rigorous discipline she had ever experienced; it was not quite what she had expected and certainly presented a harder lifestyle than she had previously endured. But the gnomes were fun people, and Sariel enjoyed their sense of community and curiosity. Despite her homesickness and exhaustion, she stuck with it. After several years, she was initiated as an avenger of Garl Glittergold, the first ever member of another race to earn that distinction.

Unfortunately, shortly after that joyous occasion, the gnome settlement near Sariel's monastery was attacked by a large band of ogres. The ogres were eventually repelled, but there were heavy losses on the gnomes' side. Sariel fought bravely in the battle, but despite her prowess, the cleric who had recruited her (and who had since become high priest of the monastery) was killed in battle. In short order, a new high priest was chosen by the local leadership, but this priest was mistrustful of her. Sariel was an outsider, he claimed, and her family had rejected their plea for help. She would no longer be welcome in their community. Many gnomes that trained beside her at the monastery were angered by this decision, and stood by her side. Their support was to no avail. Ultimately, the new high priest’s edict was set down, and she was exiled.

While this hurt Sariel deeply, she maintained a deep kinship with the gnomish race and their ways, understanding that it wasn’t the entire people that had forced her out, but one paranoid individual. She also still had the favor of Garl Glittergold and felt her work as an avenger in his service had just begun. Still, not knowing where to turn, Sariel looked first to her old eladrin family. She hoped that there was some way she could use her training for the service of her own people. Upon arriving at the city, she was not even allowed through the gate. Apparently her family had felt too betrayed by her defection to forgive her.

So Sariel wandered. It was tough to make a living, as Sariel's only formal training had been in religion and swordsmanship. Fortunately for her survival, the gnomes had also taught her to be quick with her hands and lithe on her feet. She moved from city to city, finding work when she could, but often stealing when there was no other choice (but, she emphasized at this part of the story, only from wicked, wealthy lords who used their power to support injustice). This went on for several years.

Finally, Sariel found a somewhat honest living by offering her services as a swordsman to a large troupe of travelling comedians and circus-folk. Not glamorous, to be sure, and many of the troupe were morally questionable individuals with checkered pasts. In general, though, they were fun people who liked to laugh. Plus, this position had the added bonus of decent pay, eliminating the need for thieving - an activity Sariel was skilled at, but not something she enjoyed.

She travelled with this group for some time, keeping them safe from bandits and wandering monsters. Sariel related to us the first time she encountered trouble, when two local bandits tried to strong arm the troupe into paying them for passage through the area. When Sariel refused to pay, the bandits simply laughed at her and tried to take the cash box by force. Twenty seconds later, when both were lying dead on the ground, Sariel fully understood just how much power Garl Glittergold had bestowed on her.

After a year, she began to realize that Garl had something more for her than simply scaring petty thieves away from a minstrel troupe. It was fine that she was protecting these people in the name of humor and laughter, but Sariel knew that there was a greater good that her god wanted her to fight for. She wasn’t yet sure what that was, but her soul felt a distinct calling. Sariel resolved that she would leave the group at the next decent-sized town they entered in order to seek the new purpose that Garl had for her life.

After sneaking away from the company and finding a quiet place to enter into a trance, Sariel was led to us. And here we were. Waiting for some other mysterious adventurer. This day had gotten strange in a hurry.


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A New Beginning

It was over. Well, almost over. The journey we had started was coming to a finish. I guess it was never really my journey to begin with, but I couldn’t help but feel some sort of connection to it, having been involved for so long.

I glanced over at Lotheryn, who was picking her way determinedly through the forest, clearly wrapped up in her own thoughts. Anca trotted along beside her. Having had no real home for such a long time, I couldn’t imagine the emotions that she must be feeling. Returning to her kin and her Grove (the source of her being, really) after being away for so long, having completed the task she set out to accomplish, bringing her people the power they needed to restore their environment. That power was in the form of a simple flower, the terellor, still embedded in a clump of dirt and nestled carefully in Lotheryn’s pack.

Yeah, we found it. It took almost a year after our fellowship split up, but we finally found it. These things are always in the last place you look.

I couldn’t keep my thoughts from drifting back over the occurrences of the last year.

After I caught up with Lotheryn and Anca following our little "mining expedition," we made our way north to a decent sized city called Urgor. Lotheryn knew of a plant expert (by the odd name of Ratlab) who might be able to help her on her quest. We found the guy rather easily. Unfortunately, the reason it was so easy is because the man had apparently just gone completely mad, began casting lightning bolts at anyone wearing a dark cloak, screamed about something called the “Cult of Stone,” and then changed himself into a large alder tree and planted himself in the middle of the marketplace.

The halfling merchant we were conversing with pointed to the left, noticing the skeptical expression on my face. “It’s right there if you want to see it. Happened just two days ago. Quite a lovely tree, I might add. Wouldn’t mind a tree like that in my garden back home. While you’re here, could I interest you in any asparagus?”

“Ugh. No thanks.” I muttered. I flipped the man a couple coppers for his troubles and turned to Lotheryn. “Well, that certainly puts a damper on the start of our mission. Any other leads you know of?”

The elf looked like she was about to cry. “No. Everywhere I’ve gone I’ve met with nothing but dead ends. I keep having this vision of a flower embedded at the top of a mountain of rock, with sheer cliffs on each side, no way to reach it. It looks like that is my destiny. I thank you for your willingness to aid me, but I feel I must return to my Grove. They will need to know of my failure.” She began sobbing in the middle of the street, oblivious to the glances we were getting from the passersby.

What was I supposed to do? I’m pretty bad at the whole “empathy” thing. I was more uncomfortable in that situation than I had been when we fought that red dragon. At least then I could let my bow do the communicating. It spoke much more clearly and authoritatively than I did, that’s for sure. Then I had an idea.

I patted her shoulder gently, as a rather poor means of calming her down. “Well, this guy had to have journals, logs, or a library of some sort. I’m no rogue, but I can sneak around with the best of them. We’ll find his house and I’ll try to get us in to do some research.”

Thankfully, that seemed to take the edge off of Lotheryn’s despair. Our halfling merchant was able to tell us where we could find the man’s home, although he couldn’t do it without another sales pitch. Lotheryn bought some broccoli from him, just to make him happy. We spent the rest of the day in a dark corner of a tavern, the druid sitting quietly munching on nasty green vegetables, while I thought about how were going to get into the herbalist’s home.

We waited an hour after nightfall and were about to leave our table when three well-armed, angry looking dwarves barged into the tavern. I immediately recognized them from Odo’s clan. Something told me that it was probably not a good idea to say hello at the moment. It turned out to be a good instinct.

One of the dwarves stepped forward and shouted, “If any of you has seen or heard tell of a gnome called ‘Moonglum,’ step forward and provide any information you possess. Any credible information we receive will be paid for, while anyone caught concealing information will be held duly accountable.”

The bartender made a feeble attempt at trying to get the dwarves to leave, mumbling that they were going to be bad for business, but he was quickly silenced by a glare from the bearded man who had spoken. When no one stepped forward to offer up intelligence, the dwarves began making their way around the tavern, harshly questioning individuals.

I looked at Lotheryn. “I think that was our cue to leave.” She nodded silently as we slipped out of our booth and made our way to the back door, hoping that we had escaped unseen. Thankfully, we had left Anca outside at the rear of the tavern, otherwise we would have been given away for sure.

I seethed as we snuck out. Hearing the gnome’s name made me angry all over again at what he had done back in the depths of Odo’s mine. And apparently he had done something else, as well, to tick off the dwarves that badly. I had no intention of finding out what it was. I was perfectly happy to be as far away from that wizard as possible. As it turned out, that was the last time we heard any mention of our previous companions.

We breathed a sigh of relief as we collected Anca and made our way out of sight of the tavern. It was a quick walk from there, down a few back alleys, to Ratlab’s house. As we arrived I felt confident that we remained incognito.

“What now?” Lotheryn whispered, as we crouched down beside a rear window. “How do we get in?”

I took one last look around the alleyway to make sure no one was spying on our activities, and then I calmly broke the window with the haft of my flail. The elf looked appalled.

“What? I told you I’m no rogue. This is how I do things. Besides, the guy’s a tree. He’s not going to miss his back window. Let’s just get in there and do our business, shall we?” I said. Even in the near blackness, I could see Lotheryn roll her eyes.

The three of us hopped in, lit a couple of candles and began our search. The place was a disaster. It looked as if a typhoon had gone around the place a few times and then called a tornado in to finish the job. We gathered up all the tomes and notebooks we could find and began perusing them for any hint of the terellor.

I was halfway through a riveting classic about the germination of fir trees, when, without warning, a brilliant orb of light lit the room. Completely startled, I dropped the tome I was reading. Anca crouched down, growling and ready to leap. I turned and slowly opened my eyes, letting them adjust to the new brightness.

Standing there, holding a staff tipped with a crystal that was the source of the light was a very tall man of medium build. The man looked to be past middle age, with jet black hair and beard, streaked with white in various places. His face was stern, but I could see some amusement in his eyes as he regarded our state of shock.

“Well?” He started in a booming voice. “You have approximately 17 and a half seconds to convince me not to turn each of you into smoking piles of ash.”

I was still trying to figure out where I might be able to obtain a clean set of undergarments at this hour when Lotheryn spoke up. As freaked out as I was, she spoke without a quaver in her voice.

“Sir, we did not intend any harm. I am searching for information that Ratlab was said to possess. This information would lead me to a flower that holds the ability to save my home. I was hoping to speak with Ratlab myself, but he has passed, as you know. This was my last option, and I took it out of desperation, not malice. Please forgive our intrusion.”

I was impressed by her composure, and apparently the sorcerer was impressed as well. His face softened considerably. “My name is Suiag. Lab was a good friend of mine for many, many years. I know of the information that you seek. I tried to pry it from him myself, but he never gave it to me. Every time I asked, he would look at me with a mischievous grin and tell me ‘Only my true friend can know that.’ I never fully understood what he meant by that. And now I never will.”

The big man sighed as he seated himself on a stool in the corner of the room. He gave a quick whistle and to our astonishment, Anca trotted over and seated himself beside Suiag, even allowing him to scratch his ears. “That information would have been quite useful, as you well know. I take it that you heard mention of the Cult of Stone?” Lotheryn and I both nodded. “They are most likely the ones responsible for the decay of your Grove. This is a group of evil men, some of whom have become wraiths, twisted by their ill-advised dabbling in necromancy. The short of it is that the power they possess is limited by growing things, and so they seek to destroy especially those who would nurture the flora of the world. There are some powers that druids and shamans wield that can combat the spread of the disease they have inflicted upon fields and forests, but only the terellor has the power to actually cure it.”

This story was getting bleaker and bleaker. Hopefully the sorcerer would give us at least some good news. He continued, “Lab obviously guarded this information closely, knowing that it would be abused in the wrong hands. Unfortunately for you, by the time it became obvious that the information needed to be shared with someone who could use it for good, his brain had been addled by a confrontation with a rather powerful mind flayer. As you can see from the curious collection of random objects, he became rather eccentric in the last couple years, hoarding pieces of junk that he thought were significant in some way.”

I glanced around the room, really seeing it for the first time. Among the myriad items, there was a strange carving of a man’s distorted face, a small statuette of a scantily clad woman who appeared to be wearing a skirt made of grass, and a multi-colored cube. I asked about this last item.

“That?” the sorcerer grunted as he picked it up. “This is some sort of puzzle. Apparently the pieces can be moved around so that each side consists of only one unique color. He was constantly fiddling with this thing, claiming that it held the key to his destiny. You may have it, if you wish. As far as I know, no one has ever solved it.” He tossed it to me. Hey, I like a good puzzle every now and then.

Lotheryn interrupted us, urgency in her voice “So is there no clue here as to where we can find the terellor?”

Suiag shook his head. “Certainly none that I know of. Members of the Cult were here looking, and they couldn’t find anything either. They obviously didn't pick up after themselves. You are welcome to look around if you’d like, but I’ll tell you that I have read every word on every piece of paper in this place, and nothing will lead you to your answer. I am sorry.”

We gave one last look around the room. I was ready to turn and head back out the window when Lotheryn spoke up. “I find it strange that a lover of plants such as this would not have a dwelling full of green life. The only growing thing I see is that small tree in the pot over there.” She pointed at a tiny tree on the window sill. Something was funny about that tree, other than the fact that it was the smallest tree I had ever seen. It couldn’t have been more than 12 inches tall. I looked closer, and then I realized it.

“Hey, that tree looks exactly like the one Ratlab turned into in the marketplace. It seems to be withering and dying, but the color and shape of the tree is the exact same.”

The large spellcaster looked over. “Well, I suppose you’re right. I don’t see what significance that poses, other than that he liked this particular plant.”

Lotheryn said, “You are probably correct, but still, I have some ability to talk to plants and trees. Before we go, I would like to see if it has anything it can share.”

Lotheryn gently placed her hands on the small, frail branches. I could see that she was vocalizing something, but her voice was inaudible. This had gone on for some time when I heard a loud snap and saw that the tree had collapsed. Lotheryn had a tear in her eye, as she turned to us, but her words reflected respect and admiration rather than sadness.

“This tree has spent the last of its life energy to communicate with me. What I heard was, ‘The life of the star flower is held by Elanor the Grower.’ That was all.” She looked at the sorcerer expectantly. Suiag, who had an air about him that indicated his ability to handle just about anything, suddenly seemed unsure of himself.

After a moment spent deep in thought, the man spoke, “Ratlab must have shared his secret only with the tree, his ‘true friend.’ And he probably didn’t keep other plants around because he knew that the tree would communicate with them in its own way, and his secret would be in danger. As to the message, the ‘star flower’ refers to the terellor, its shape being very unique, as its petals and leaves form seven-pointed stars. Elanor the Grower is the name of the second oldest living creature around. At least, I assume she’s still living. She is, or was, an elf, a daughter of one of the original elves that were formed out of faerie. It would make sense that she would know the location of the terellor but I had no idea she was still alive or that should would possess this information.”

“Well,” I started, impatient to get the show on the road now that we had our lead, “Where do we find this lady?”

“That is the problem,” Suiag said. “As far as I know, the only one who’s been in contact with her over the last few centuries is the oldest living creature in the world. The green dragon known as Emraung. Last I heard, he was living amidst an old forest in the Northern Reaches.”

“Emraung!” I was incredulous. “That dragon is just a fairy tale. Even if such a dragon existed, it must be long dead by now. This is the same dragon that supposedly gave advice to the gods when they were creating plants and animals. Surely you don’t expect us to go looking for a myth.”

“You are not as smart as you think you are, ranger,” Suiag snapped sharply. “This world is full of strange things, and a several hundred thousand year old dragon is one of them. Do you want my help, or are you going to question me further?”

I looked at Lotheryn. She looked back at me with hope in her eyes, the first I’d seen of that in awhile. I sighed and shrugged my shoulders, still skeptical of the whole thing. “Yes, we want your help. What can you do for us?”

The sorcerer told us of a wizard he was acquainted with on the edge of the Northern Reaches. He told us he could teleport us to the wizard, who would be able to give us information on how to find Emraung. Suiag told us to meet him at his quarters when we were ready to leave. Then he was gone in a flash of light. I looked at Lotheryn, “Here we go, I guess.”

We had the sorcerer teleport us the next morning. I could spend several novels telling you of the various encounters we had on our journey, but I’m not sure I remember them all, and I’m not sure I could accurately relate the ones I do remember. We traveled for some time with an old cleric, who was in the area as part of a mission from his god to chronicle the history of the Norther Reaches. His piety got on my nerves sometimes, but he did teach me a neat trick which would allow me to channel energy (which he claimed was granted to me by my god, Ehlonna) in a ray of light that would burn my enemies and grant favor to my allies. I don’t know how that all works, but hey, it is dang useful when I run out of arrows.

After we parted ways with the cleric, we walked for months until we found signs of the dragon. Even using all my tracking skills, it was blind luck that allowed us to stumble into the cave where Emraung made his home, deep in the heart of the largest forest I’d ever seen or heard of.

Of all the details that I've forgotten about that journey, the encounter with the dragon was something I will never forget.

As soon as we entered, we heard the gravelly, commanding voice of the dragon, “Come in, travelers. Come and look upon my glory before you perish in my jaws.”

Well, this was off to a promising start. Every impulse in my body told me to turn and run; my brain convinced me that my training would allow me to hide from this creature until it was safe to get out of the forest. But I steeled myself and led the way inside the dragon’s lair.

Emraung was the most massive living thing I had ever seen. All of a sudden the claim that this beast was eons old didn’t seem quite so preposterous. At that point, I was willing to believe anything anyone told me as long as it meant I could leave that place alive.

The dragon addressed each of us by name. How it knew us, I have no idea.

“Well, Taran the Witless, Lotheryn the Lost, and Anca the Blindly Loyal. You have come a long way to see me. I smell the blood of one of my red grandchildren on your persons. Fortunately for your existence, I never liked the red ones all that much. More trouble than they were worth. But that is neither here nor there."

The dragon fixed an eye on each of us, seeming to stare into our hearts and minds. It was disconcerting to say the least. He said, "Your quest is to find Elanor, my good friend of many millennia. I am not in the habit of granting information to random visitors, preferring simply to consume them. However, since I am not particularly hungry for food at the moment, I will make you a deal. You have one hour to satisfy my main hunger – something to occupy my mind. You see, I have encountered everything this world has to offer, and some that it hasn’t. It has taken quite a long time, but after so many years my life has lost its vigor. If you can provide me with a diversion from my disinterest, you will have your answer. If you cannot, I will have my supper.” The dragon laughed mirthlessly at this last witticism.

Lotheryn and I were at a loss. After about 45 minutes, we started throwing random ideas at the dragon, all of which were rejected without a second thought. A sudden dread swept over me as I realized that this was the end of our journey. Our blood, sweat, and tears spent on this quest had been in vain, all because a dragon was bored out of his mind. Oh how I love injustice.

I looked at Anca and then at my pack, wondering if I could somehow create a diversion long enough for the wolf to take my journal and sprint away. At least our story would survive. Maybe some bard would make a song out of us some day. All of a sudden, the answer came to me.

“Oh wise Emraung, mightiest of all dragons, wisest living creature,” I started with a flourish. He probably knew I was kissing his giant, scaly green ass, but I didn’t care. “As powerful a mind as you possess, I know one riddle that you have never solved. In fact, this riddle remains unanswered by any living being. This riddle is so profound that its originator went mad when he could not solve his own creation.” I completely made this last part up, but I thought it sounded good.

The dragon’s interest was piqued. I reached into my bag and tossed him the multi-colored cube I had taken from Ratlab’s house. The dragon turned it over and began moving pieces around. There was silence as the giant beast put his full concentration on the puzzle. After a minute that seemed like eternity, the dragon began to laugh.

“Wonderful! This should keep me busy for some time. Although I warn you, if I cannot solve it in several years, I may become frustrated and decide to eat a village or two. For your sakes, I would make sure you are well out of the region by then,” Emraung said. We breathed a collective sigh of relief. We would live. And we would get our answer.

Emraung spoke again, “You will find Elanor in a deep valley that can only be entered through a secret door in a mountain due north of here. The door is revealed every sunrise by a shaft of light that shines on a green rock embedded at the base of the mountain. The rock is perfectly round. While the sun is shining on the rock, the druid must speak ‘Open’ in the language of the plants. You must hurry as the light only lasts for several seconds. The door will open to the valley and there you will find your elf, tending to the last remnants of ancient life that exist in the world. Now begone from here. I have a puzzle to solve.”

We couldn’t have left any faster. We sprinted out the entrance to the cave, took our bearings, and began to make our way north. It took another month, but we finally found the door to the valley and opened it. Once inside, we were amazed at the life we saw. Things that only existed in stories flourished in this place. We found Elanor, who led us to the flower that Lotheryn sought. She carefully removed it from the ground, complete with fertile soil from the earth, and handed to Lotheryn. She never spoke, seeming to know our intent, and we both seemed to understand that there was no need for words in that place. Afterward, though, as we left the hallowed valley, Lotheryn told me that she heard words in her mind.

“It seemed that she said ‘Your work has yet to begin.’ After all this time, I feel like my mission is almost complete, and yet it seems I have much left to do. What could she mean?” Lotheryn asked, half rhetorically.

I just shrugged. Ancient elves are certainly not my area of expertise.

We took several more months to find our way back to the wizard that had guided us to the dragon’s lair. An unfortunate incident with some gnolls along the way resulted in the loss of my flail, Narqualme, but I was happy to be back in civilization. The wizard ported us to a location near Lotheryn’s Grove. We began the several day walk to her homeland, which is where we currently found ourselves.

We walked on, getting closer to the Grove. Lotheryn looked at me with a frown, “Something is not right. Look at the trees! Look at the undergrowth! Listen…”

I looked and listened. The plantlife seemed to be dying, and there were more fallen trees then elsewhere in the forest. It seemed like there was more rock strewn about than one would normally find in a forest so far from a mountain range. I also heard nothing – no sound of bird or other animal. Lotheryn and Anca, sensing a need for urgency, began to jog and then broke into a full run. I could go pretty fast when I wanted to, but I couldn’t keep up with those two.

They had just gotten out of sight when I heard a wild scream. It was Lotheryn. I sprinted toward the sound, praying that nothing bad had happened. I made for a ring of broken trees that stood directly before me. As I burst through, I saw the reason for the druid’s scream.

What I had thought were trees had been turned to stone and broken off, lying in pieces on the ground, which had also become mostly rock. Bodies of elves were strewn about, some frozen into rock as well. But of more concern was the dark-robed necromancer still standing in the middle of the clearing.

Lotheryn was summoning a ball of fire as I joined the battle. Anca was circling the evil wizard, biting and clawing when he could get past the lightning bolts it was casting and trying to turn it away from his master. Lotheryn finally released the fireball, causing the necromancer to shriek in pain and turn suddenly on the druid. He began to gather a lightning bolt in his hand. I unslung my bow and drew an arrow, but it was too late. Anca jumped and bit the necromancer’s hand just as the bolt was about to be released. Its violent energy discharged into Anca and threw the wolf against one of the stone trees, where he lay motionless.

In a blind rage I loosed my arrow, striking the thing square in the chest. As I nocked another arrow, I turned to Lotheryn. She had her eyes closed tightly as her chest heaved in fury. Before I could fire another round, she began to transform in front of my eyes, changing from the beautiful elf that I had come to know and love into a large wolf, alike in almost every way to the one lying motionless behind us. She charged the necromancer, catching it off guard as she mangled one of its arms. Regaining my composure, I looked for another shot, but I couldn’t risk firing with Lotheryn darting in and out of the way. Just as I thought she had the fight won, the necromancer released a burst of energy, throwing Lotheryn to the ground and knocking her unconscious.

The wizard was bent in pain from the wounds we had inflicted, bleeding whatever passed for blood in that warped body that may once have been human. It turned to look at me as I moved closer for a point blank shot.

“You are too late…” It hissed through pointed teeth. “Your world will be stone. You cannot stop…”

“Enough," I interrupted, glaring at the necromancer. "Tell me where we can find the rest of your Cult so so I can make sure they suffer as much as you have.”

The thing hissed at me again, seeming to laugh, “You cannot stop us…Stone cannot be made to suffer…”

“Wrong answer.” I sent my arrow into its eye, silencing it for good. The body crumbled into small pebbles as it hit the ground, leaving only its black robes as evidence that it had ever existed. I quickly turned and looked for Lotheryn, who had returned to the shape of an elf, and was picking herself up off the ground. I went to help her, but she brushed me aside and ran to Anca.

The wolf was barely breathing. I could see the pain in his yellow eyes as Lotheryn reached down to stroke his fur. Silently weeping, she picked up the large wolf in a feat of strength that could only have been accomplished with the raw anguish that was coursing through her.

She took Anca to the center of the clearing and laid him down. I followed closely behind, not wanting to interrupt her last moments with her dearest friend and companion. Finally she seemed to notice me.

“I am sorry. I must speak the words that will grant Anca a peaceful death. I want him to be at rest here in the Grove where I first met him so many years ago,” Lotheryn’s voice was shaking, barely above a whisper. But as she leaned over to send Anca to his final destination, we heard a groan behind us.

“Lotheryn…wait.” The voice said, louder now. We both turned. One of the elves that we had assumed dead was feebly motioning us over. “Bring…the wolf.”

It was obvious that the elf could not rise, as his lower half had been turned to stone and merged with the ground. The sight made me sick to stomach, but I went beside Lotheryn as she gently placed Anca on the ground beside the man and knelt next to him.

“Master Rillin,” she began. “What happened here? I…I have finally returned. And I have brought…I have brought the terellor.” Her voice cracked with emotion.

“You have done well…child. Too late…for this…Grove.” The druid master seemed to gather his strength. “Cult of Stone…is dangerous. You have…seen…touched…the beast within. You know…your capabilities now. You…are a druid.” His breath was coming in ragged gasps. Lotheryn lowered her head as the tears streamed down her face.

“Need a…guardian on…your quest to…preserve life. There…is some strength left…deep…in this Grove. Anca…bestowed with power…Wolf…Elf…Nature…your Warden.”

With the last of his strength, Rillin put his hand on Anca’s barely moving chest and closed his eyes. What occurred next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best. Not 10 minutes ago, I saw a normal elf turn into a wolf without warning, but this was even crazier than that. I saw what remained of the green vitality in the Grove drained to brown and gray as power seemed to flow into the wolf. Gradually, Anca grew and stood slightly crouched on his two hind legs, becoming a kind of half elf, half wolf. His wounds were healed as he stood before us, looking at us with the same knowing, wise yellow eyes that he had when he was Lotheryn’s animal companion. There was a sadness in those eyes, but it was not the sadness of Anca the wolf or even the sadness of the elven community that had lived in the Grove. Rather it was the sadness of the trees and flowers that had given the last of their essence to live inside this new body. They grieved as they realized that they would never again feel the flow of water through their veins or take in the rich nutrients of the soil through roots buried in good earth. It was that pain that showed on Anca’s face as the natural power within him gradually understood that nothing remained of the beauty that once surrounded them in the Grove. He looked to the sky and howled in agony, releasing all the frustration and despair that was roiling inside him.

There was something therapeutic in that cry, as the sadness soon passed. The three beings, newly joined in one body, came to recognize and accept each other’s existence. There was harmony in their co-habitation, and I saw resolve and fierce loyalty as the former wolf-turned-shapeshifter looked at Lotheryn. I knew that Anca would be a better, stronger guardian now than ever before, infused with the power of Nature itself as he protected us wherever we would go.

Lotheryn looked at me with intense, indescribable emotion.

“We must go. I cannot be in this place any more. We will start a new journey from this moment on. And wherever that journey leads us, we will heal the earth.”

I nodded silently. We turned and walked from the former druid haven, never to return there.

Here we go again.




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Thursday?

Ducks playoff game and rolling of the characters this Thursday? I'm hyped. Saturday the 25th can't come fast enough. What are you thinking of rolling Bethany? Hopefully, between you and Angela, we'll have a leader and a striker but feel free to weigh your options. You seem like you would enjoy a leader though, especially since they do lots of super cool things in 4e rather than just heal dudes like in 3.5. Shaman? Warlord? The return of the Bard?!?!

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The reflexes of a cat, the speed of a mongoose

No time has been wasted! I recycled, I cashed in all the change I've been hording, I even DEed all my healing gear and sold the shards (wait, wrong game, sorry) and ended up with a surprising amount of cash. So I checked some prices at a few bookstores, quickly realized that amazon.com might be my dearest friend and now, after 3 days of shipping, arriving at my house will be the full gamut of 4e gear. I'll have the three core books, the player's handbook 2, the first module (Keep on the Shadowfel) and I even had enough money left over to spring for the Dungeon Master's Screen. That's right, I have a giant cardboard screen to block your prying eyes, and it even gives me super useful states on the back. I am a role-playing master!!!!!

Anyway, I'll be ready to go when we have our inaugural gathering on April 25th. It really might be nice if we had more than one copy of some of these books, but we can make it work no matter what. The player's handbook (1 and 2) each cost about $23 on amazon. If you guys want to split the cost of 1 or both of those, that might be really handy so we can have multiple copies of the rules, skills, feats, class features, etc. I have the full version of the character creator on my laptop now too so that should make figuring out our characters super easy.

Anyway, let's get hyped! It's D&D time again! (But I'm not really a nerd, I swear)

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Um...

It's March. It's getting dangerously close to April, actually. Where is the new player's handbook? Is anyone in possession of this yet? I have yet to find an official release date via Googleing all this... I've just found "March 2009."

Let's do this!

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'Cause it's D'n'D... it's dyno-mite!

We should resume, in some form, our D&D adventures. Perhaps next time we won't play for three hours at a time, but I'm not ready to give up on this game.

I haven't even bought and painted my own elven sorceror! And that IS high on my list of things to do.

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Adventure 6 (addendum): Gnome More Please

The gnome muttered to himself as he rifled through the chest. “Eccentric, they say. Strange, they say. Oversized lawn ornament, he calls me. If I was twice HIS size, he wouldn’t say such things. I’ll show him though. Before long HE will be begging ME for help, and we’ll see who’s bigger then. Ain’t that right?” Moonglum looked over at Odo, standing motionless, a look of anger frozen on the dwarf’s face. The hold person spell Moonglum had cast was still working like a charm.

The wizard shut the chest in frustration. “Where is it, dwarf? Where is my ‘precious’?” As Moonglum looked at the chieftain, he noticed a small bulge on one side of his tunic.

“Aha!” he cried as he lifted the red pendant from Odo’s clothing. “Well well, now I have MY reward,” Moonglum said, putting the pendant in a pouch at his hip and picking up his quarterstaff. “I do not envy you the headache you will have when you wake up, but sleep well, and dream of bearded women.” The gnome struck Odo over the head with his staff just as the spell wore off. He swiftly gathered his gear, quietly slipped out of the chamber, and began to make his way to the mine’s main gates.

Moonglum traveled unmolested through the dwarf city. He got a few suspicious glances, as he did everywhere he went (he was a GNOME, after all), but no one showed any indication that they knew what he had done. A smirk came across his face as he contemplated his own cunning. He had purposefully waited to make his move until the rest of his party left, suspecting that there was a good chance he would incur their wrath if he showed his face around them again. He didn’t think they were entirely justified in their anger, considering he was the one who almost singlehandedly killed that beast. But he couldn’t get too frustrated; after all, none of them possessed anywhere near the intelligence necessary to understand why he did the things he did.

That’s the way it’s always been, he thought, sighing to himself. Which of them could have hatched this plan? He had waited until Odo was alone in his room, snuck in, cast the spell before the dwarf could say Mibbifoodle, and took the jewel. His grin grew wider as he looked down at the pouch containing the glowing pendant. Moonglum began to imagine the price it would fetch from certain buyers he knew; he dreamed about the power he could wield if he decided to keep the gem for himself and tweak the magic just a little. The gnome was so engrossed in his own fantasy that he jumped five feet in the air when he felt a soft touch on his arm.

“It wasn’t me, it was the one-armed man!” Moonglum shouted as he turned around. There was Amaryllis, looking at him with an eyebrow raised in confusion. “Oh, it’s you. Why are you still here? Didn’t you leave with the others?”

“No, I decided to stay,” she told him. “You see, before my town was destroyed and I joined a traveling acrobatic troupe to earn my keep, I was a teacher in my community. I noticed there are a lot of children here with not many people to teach them. I may not be a dwarf, but Odo saw how well the children liked me and asked me to stay. I like the community here and I knew some of the others were going back to their own homes, so I agreed.”

She paused and looked him over, noticing that he had all his gear. “Where are you going?” she asked.

Moonglum thought for a minute. An idea formed in his head. He liked Amaryllis. The halfling had apparently already forgiven him for the fireball incident while the others had been either angry or dismissive toward him. She was a good companion and her skills as a rogue would be extremely useful on his journeys. Plus, he thought, she is pretty cute. He decided to tell her the truth – a slightly modified version of it, anyway.

“I am escaping,” he told Amaryllis, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I happened to overhear Odo talking to one of his clerics about that pendant he found. He was plotting use it to conquer Lord Bolt’s kingdom. He wanted the cleric to gather a council of magic users to study the pendant and see if it could be twisted to use for such a purpose. This horrified me, naturally, so when the cleric left, I snuck in and liberated the pendant by knocking Odo unconscious. It doesn’t appear the dwarves have discovered this yet, but they will soon. When they do, we will BOTH be in grave danger.” Moonglum paused to let this sink in. Amaryllis played right into his lie.

“Oh no! We will have to leave at once! But I can’t go without my things – I don’t have any of my gear!” the rogue exclaimed frantically, looking like she was about to burst into tears.

Moonglum looked around for potential eavesdroppers. Seeing none, he whispered, “We don’t have much time. They may sound the alarm at any second. You have the ability to sneak out of here whenever you want, but I need to be long gone when they find Odo. You go get your things – I will wait for you near the fork in the road two miles north of here. Meet me there at dusk.”

The frightened halfling nodded and hurried off to her quarters. Moonglum walked calmly but briskly on to the gates. He nodded at the stationed guards as he strolled confidently through the large arch carved in stone that represented the main entrance to the city. As he did so, he became aware of a commotion arising somewhere behind him. They had found him.

He headed south a short distance, summoned a giant centipede in the middle of the path, and hid himself in the foliage on the side of the road. Not a moment too soon, either, he thought as the guards arrived mere seconds after the gnome had moved out of sight. The wizard knew that the centipede would keep them busy for awhile. He also knew that the giant bug would confuse any tracks he may have left. Combined with most dwarves’ poor tracking skills and the rocky terrain, Moonglum was certain that he would be almost impossible to follow. That ranger may have been a boorish pain in the keister, but he did teach me a few valuable things. If only Taran could see me now! he thought triumphantly.

The gnome stayed off the path during his northward trek until he arrived without incident just as dusk fell at the prescribed meeting place. Moonglum was diligently surveying the road when he felt another tap on his shoulder. Once again, the wizard nearly soiled his robes in surprise.

“You’re good at that,” Moonglum said to Amaryllis after his heart rate had slowed to a manageable level.

“Thank you!” Amaryllis said cheerfully. “We halflings are all gifted that way, although I have always been especially good at it. I could sneak up on my friends whenever we played Find-The-Hobbit. I remember one time when I scared my friend Berys so badly…”

“Yes, yes. Wonderful.” Moonglum interrupted. He liked the rogue, but he was starting to wonder what exactly he’d gotten himself into. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time he wondered that. “Did they follow you?”

Amaryllis scoffed at the gnome, “Of course not. But they were organizing search parties as I left. They will probably be setting out within the half hour.” She became melancholy all of a sudden. “I was sure that these dwarves had good hearts. Why would they want to attack Lord Bolt? It doesn’t make sense to me…” She trailed off as she looked at the gnome, hoping for an answer.

“I’m sure I don’t know!” Moonglum said, trying desperately to keep the nervousness that was wracking his brain from creeping into his voice. The confidence in his own brilliance he’d enjoyed just an hour earlier was fading fast. Now there was a hoard of dwarves preparing to hunt him down. It was time to move on. He put on his pack and gestured north to Amaryllis. The halfling nodded silently and followed the wizard as he picked his way through the undergrowth west of the path.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis has left the building,” Moonglum muttered under his breath as they vacated their hiding spot.

“What was that?” asked Amaryllis from behind him.

“Nothing…” Moonglum rolled his eyes. No one ever understands me, the wizard thought dejectedly for the second time that day. But then a realization came to him. Here he was, a powerful magic item in his pocket, traveling with a skilled rogue who was so pure and innocent that she would never question his motives. And she was a babe.

The gnome brightened considerably. At the very least, this was going to get interesting. Very interesting. And that was just fine with Moonglum.


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