| Game Master: System: Date: | Ken Dungeons & Dragons 5e Homebrew Campaign 9th June 2022 |
| Characters: | Fayd – Half Orc Barbarian Gunnar Orcsson – Half Orc Barbarian Jaraziah Grimm – Human Cleric Iivan – Drow Rogue Balasar Aurumingis – Dragonborn Sorcerer Luther – Half Elf Bard Navarro – Half Elf Paladin Tad Hemlock – Halfling Bard (Retired) Tianzi – Half Elf Sorlock (Retired) |
After a magnificent night, where colours and subtlety of the night life finally get away from the oppression of the blazing sun, we are ready to go.
Why my companions of the moment don’t want to set off outside of the tyranny of the sun, I still can’t understand.
Having gathered another horse for Navarro to butcher, it is with great sadness that Yocan sees the back of us. It feels like some members of the settlement are happier to see us leave. Most notable are 2 goblins that seem to be missing some piece of anatomy and marbles and Amberclad, though liking the backside of Navarro seems to be missing him already… I must admit I don’t understand these light loving people.
Once again shackled by a lumbering cart, who’s practical use is still a mystery to me, we set off on the rising of the hated, glaring ball of light in the sky.
The going is easy and one can say monotonous. Grimm keeps mumbling and painting about his thesaurus of all living things the practical uses of which still escapes me. Sort of like the use of a fiery star hammering at our backs for half the day. It’s an ordeal that must be supported because that’s what forms character…like my grand dame used to say.
The halfies get first watch get first watch over the supine forms of our little band whilst I meditate on my task at hand. It’s been a full month and though I’ve made progress on my task, it feels like I am far from it yet. Hopefully my sisters and aunts can keep the hordes at bay whilst I complete my self-imposed task.
Feeling refreshed, I wake Balasar to ensure the incident that happened with Captain Jordan and one of his men doesn’t repeat itself. This time I ensure there’s no distracting fire to be had for Balasar to ruin his VERY limited night vision and distract him from his appointed duties. Barely an hour into our watch, there’s a hissing,slurping sound coming from behind me. I stealthily turn around to find Balasar has drifted off again… He spends his day in the wagon dozing off and here he goes again… belittling his duties by drifting off to sleep. No wonder these dragonborn are more of a myth than a proper empire of topside… they sleep all the freaking time. Well decided to bring him out of his laziness, I try to grab him by the edges of his cloak with the benevolent intent on bitch slapping him awake and bring his focus back to his duties. Weirdly enough, instead of being corporeal and attending the watch he volunteered to, he’s semi corporeal and out of my rightful grasp to bring focus into his drooling face. He deigns to rouse himself after a few minutes, wild-eyed with grief of his derelict sense of duty. He spouts more non-sense than his usual self, claiming to have been drawn to his ancestor, an ancient gold dragon trapped by nekro, and equally ancient blue dragon. This nekro seems to use some nereith technology to absorb the gold dragon’s magical energy and funnel it away. When asked if he could interact with his “dream” our local version of an overgrown reptile didn’t seem to be able to connect the dots and understand common. Dawn was breaking, and hopeful to get some distance between us and our camping spot before the despise light got too intense, I convince my weaker willed companions to set off for another day of travel.
11th flamrul
The terrain seems to get rougher, more rugged and we are still tracked by the wagon tracks that point straight as an arrow towards our destination. Balasar drones off about being someone’s pretty (I surmised it was part of his wet dream, like those navarro gets frequently) and the end of the blighted luminescence sees us in a more hilly region, where I find a respectable defensive position that allows us a good view of the region while sheltering us from observation simultaneously.
I was rudely drawn out of a particularly blissful meditation about the intricacies of mushroom wine making, and art the above grounders know nothing about. How rude can these orc spawn really be? One of them, the one with hair I think, is all flustered and grunting and pointing in the distance with all sorts of onomatopoeias. Expecting to see nothing, I nonetheless peer in the general direction his attention seems to be directed. Lo and behold, little blue lights seem to be dancing on the hilltop next to our own.
The other half-orc, the one without the hair (it is much easier to tell them apart since he started shaving his whole body) was drooling about chicken. I pointed out that chickens don’t glow blue in the night, not here above nor down below where I came from. We set off in the direction of the light, moving stealthily under my recommendation. Sadly, the hairless one’s stomach got the better of him and when we got to within a couple of yards of the hilltop, he let out sonorously a “hello chickens… come to papa” which, guess what… causes the source of the blue lights to disperse and disappear. We climbed the hill to see if we could find trace or clue to help us identifying who or what was emanating these sensuous shades of azure in the middle of nowhere. We found out the hill was actually a barrow and that there was an opening at the top of the barrow leading us down into the blissful, delightful dark. At the bottom of a spiral staircase, we come to the intersection of 2 corridors… Blue light is emanating from three of the four corridors. I suggest a strategic repositioning of our defensive position to avoid being overwhelmed by whatever is emanating blueish light. These whatevers seem to be little blue goblins with fairy wings, full of nasty attitude and very sharp pointy teeth. A fight ensues, and after mentioning to my companions that sound carries in these underground complexes, lo and behold I am proven right as the grunting orcs attracts many an eight-legged inhabitants of these parts. Trying to teach the finer points of strategy to these surface dwellers is like teaching them hygiene and etiquette… what do you expect from beings that bathe in their own filth?
After defeating the blue goblites(half goblin, half sprites) and the spider, we explore the rest of the complex… and come into this crypt that has a statue holding a shiny sword. The hairy one, rushes in carelessly as I try to warm him this looks very suspicious and triggers an attack by an unseen foe. Quick thinking as is my forte, I use my innate skill to cause a drape of dancing light over the commotion. This move saved our life as an unseen entity appeared before their squinting eyes. We quickly dispatch this entity, but not before Balasar’s clumsiness puts him in the path of danger. I had to save him once again. A hero’s job is never done.
In the aftermath, something weird happens to my filth wallowing seadog. He drops his axe to the floor and hugs and kisses the blade he took from the statue saying this is the bestest blade evah… and he’s going to hug him, and pet him and squeeze him and call him george?