Session Recaps

Post here to share with fellow adventurers. You gain inspiration. You can post as a journal entry, conversation at the bar, or however you'd like.

Turki wanders into the local Inn, fresh from his recent exploration of the frontier. Covered in dirt with a few scrapes and bruises, he takes a seat at the bar swearing under his breath in Elvish the whole time. The Innkeeper eyes him warily and whips out a mug of ale. Turki takes a sip, and winces. "Haven't you got anything stronger than this horse piss?" Turki asks. "Sure. This being the hub of civilization, I have a fine selection of wines available from all over the empire," the innkeeper responds sarcastically. Turki stares hard at the Innkeeper, eyeing him, and then drop a few coins on the bar. He takes a big drink of ale, and resumes his colorful cursing in elvish. "What's your problem?" the innkeeper asks. "Tools! My lockpick, my pliers, all of it! They are all gone!" Turki replies. "You lost your tools?" "Lost, no. I mean they are gone. They melted in my hand." "What? Melted? What did you do, try and pick a fireplace?" The whole room bursts in laughter. Turki glances about the room, with a scowl on his face. "Yeah laugh now," he shouts towards the room, "but you just wait until that gravestone opens up!" Everyone goes silent. In other parts of the world, most people would dismiss this as crazy talk or as an outright lie. But in Udro, there were too many strange things going on to ignore warning like this. The innkeeper, looking pale at the thought of yet another danger lurking just beyond the city walls, pulls out a crude map and sets it down in front of Turki. "Where?" the innkeeper asks. "Where what?" "Where is this gravestone? What did you see?" Turki, leans back with a wry smile on his face. "So look whose interested now. Information is not free, my friend. What are you willing to pay?" The Innkeepers face turns to a scowl, as he slides back the same coins that Turki used to pay for his ale. Turki eyes the coins with a bit of a scoff, thinks for a moment, and then sighs. "I'll accept this rather poor payment, but I expect that this begin a friendship between us - a friendship with an ongoing dialogue of ideas, thoughts and even rumors." Turki slides the coins back into his pouch, takes a long drink from his mug, and begins his story. "We were traveling east through the dunes, hunting pests and creatures for the standing bounty. Mostly we encountered wolves, though they had obviously been mutated by some sort of abomination. Extra limbs, third eyes, tumors - not natural things. We happened to come upon a single solitary gravestone here," Turki points at the north-eastern edge of the dunes (H8). "Creepy thing. Solid black obsidian. There was a circle around it where the ground just looked different, greyish about 30 feet around. Nothing grew near it. Didn't have an inscription either. Just a single key hole. So I did what any respectable adventurer would try and do..." Turki is interrupted as someone in the room coughs, "Thief". Turki looks up and sees that no one is taking credit for the cough, though a few snickers can be heard. He glares and then continues. "What any respectable ADVENTURER would do, I tried to pick the lock. It melted my tools, and burned my hands. Not sure what the hell that thing was, but we are going to need a strong mage or cleric to figure out what that thing is." Turki returns to his ale, and finishes off the mug. The rest of the tavern, sensing the story completed returns back to their own business and conversation. "And now," Turki whispers to the Innkeeper over the bar, "lets get back to the free exchange of information. Tell me where would a thief get a quality set of thieves' tools?"

9/29/15 Session  Illoa, sitting in the corner of the tavern, looks up from her ale at Turki and his narration with a typical frown. She mutters to no one in particular: "It wasn't a gravestone. I've seen plenty of gravestones. Too many. That wasn't a gravestone." "And someone ought to follow the wolf trail at the southeast of the dunes (I9) to stop whatever's causing them to go mad. Wolves don't attack people like that. They don't deserve to suffer like that." She lapses into silence again, observing the goings-on with a look of resignation. <<Thanks for the great game folks and I'll see you next time!>>

Turki wanders back into the Inn, his face dirty from his travels, but lacking its normal color. He sits down at the bar quietly, and pulls out a single coper piece, sets in on the bar and stares at it. The Innkeeper spies Turki and saunters over, "Well, well, well," the Innkeeper says with an over the top fan fare, loud enough for the whole bar to hear. "its our local sophisticated urbanite!"  The whole bar erupts in laughter. "And what will you be drinking today. A fine wine, maybe a nice Port, or maybe he would like a Vintage Empire de Bleu we just had flown in by Dragon!" This causes a laugh so hard among the patrons, that one gentleman falls out of his chair, while another snorts ale up his nose. Turki doesn't even lookup. He simply stares at the copper coin on the bar, his face ashen and unmoving. "Just an ale, please." Turki speaks quietly. "Ah look boys, I have hurt his feelings! The mighty adventurer brought low by a couple of jibes." The crowd laughs, but not as heartily as before. The Innkeeper grabs a tankard and pours a less than generous cup of ale. He walks back over to Turki and sets down the mug in front of him. "Ale is four coppers, not one, you cheap bastard," the Innkeeper grumbles and reaches for the single copper in front of him. With thief like reflexes, Turki's hand darts and grabs hold of the Innkeepers wrist. Without removing his eyes from the single copper on the bar, he reaches into his pouch with his other hand and and pulls out four copper coins. He puts the new coins into the Innkeeper's hand and releases his wrist, leaving the original coin on the bar. The Innkeeper eyes him warily. "What am I not good enough for that coin?" "No. Quite the opposite. This coin is too evil for anyone, even me." "Coins, evil?" the innkeeper snorts, "there are many strange things in this land, but an evil coin is just ridiculous." Turki looks to the Innkeeper and stares for a moment. He grabs his mug of Ale and drinks the whole tankard in one go. He flips the mug over and slams it down on the bar upside down. He grabs the coin, and rushes over to the fire place, knocking the minstrel playing out of the way. He looks towards the Innkeeper and throws the copper coin into the fire.  The entire crowd stare bewilderedly at the scene. Turki turns on the spot, and shouts to the innkeeper, "check in my mug."  The whole bar slowly turns their heads towards the Innkeeper and then to the mug. The Innkeeper, used to Turki's theatrics at the bar and unimpressed with them, lifts up the upside down tankard. The same copper coin is right there underneath it. The Innkeeper lets out an audible gasp, and the crowd recoils a moment. Turki turns back to the fire and stares into the flames for a moment.  "On the road north to Fort Boulder Breaker," Turki begins, "there is a bridge. We were escorting supplies to the fort and came upon that bridge. We spotted a group of bandits, and a giant man with a sword and no armor. Poor as we were, and disinclined to pay any tolls, we decided to attack with surprise. " 'Bandits' we said, 'how hard could this be?' Ha, Foolish! The bandits were obviously untrained and fell quickly. After all with Iloa, and her trusty shield, they could not harm us. I don't think they even landed a single blow, 12 of them. But their master, was different. He was so angry that he threw a fireball at his own men! He wiped them out for their incompetence. So we fought him. We struck him with arrows and maces and even great swords. The whole time he just laughed, his smile inhumanly extending to thrice a normal size. His wounds closed themselves up within seconds of each strike. We could not hurt him, though we outnumbered him 4 to 1. "He offered a truce, and we gladly took it being outclassed as we were. He offered to let us pass for the normal toll and a favor to be named at a later date. The toll was a single gold coin from each of us smeared with our blood. We were in a bind. We had to get those supplies to the fort, and our pride would not let us run back like cowards. So we took the deal. Each of us gave him a coin with our blood on it. In the back of the crowd, washing a table, a barback smirked for just a moment. It was small and almost imperceptible, but to those who knew the ways of the thief it was there. A tiny little lie. What had he given to the toll taker? Turki continued, "He smiled and let us pass, but not before giving each of us a single copper coin. 'Change' he said. As soon as we passed, we threw those coins into the river, believing them to be evil. "That night we set up camp and began to eat. And as we opened our rations, we found four copper coins hidden in them. They had come back to us." The crowd sits quietly and says nothing. Turki stomps back to his spot at the bar, and pulls out a dagger. He begins to carve into the coin, and speaks, "His name was Iskelliad. I will never forget him. For several nights now, I have had nightmares of that day. His grin giving me shivers, when I dropped that coin into his hand. I think its time I worked to change that." The barback makes his way to the bar, seemingly to collect Turki's mug and clean the bar surface. "I would advise anybody here, if they come upon a toll taker, to turn back. Do not pay his toll. And spread my story far and wide - no one should have to bear these coppers." Turki finishes his carving., "I do not know what I gave that thing, but I am damn sure I want it back. " The barback quickly peers at the coin. To anybody else it would seem just like scratchings, but the barback knew how to read the Cant. One word was carved into that coin: Vengance. Turki grabs his gear, the coin, and prepares to leave. He walks to the door, when the barback turns and asks, "What are you planning to do? How will you get, whatever you gave him, back?" Turki turns back and looks at the barback. In the Thieves Cant and replies, "Steal". He leaves the Inn.

10/4/15 session Illoa stands at a table out behind the Rusty Spoke Tavern & Inn, cutting meat off of a side of beef while the serving girl Trissa waits with a large plate in hand. Illoa gestures violently with her large cleaver while carrying on about the latest trip out into the Wilds of Udrus™. “. . . and then the prick Ivanson had the nerve to insult us! After we had gone through all the trouble of seeing those supplies got to his men. When he was the one who didn't know how much to pay us in the first place! I've had enough. I swear I'm never working for lords, or knights, or their minions ever again. So high and mighty and not a pinch of decency towards good people.” “And what business does an imperial legion garrison have up at that fort anyway? Fighting ettins they say. Protecting the land they say. Its too far away to be of any use to us here. Unless . . . I wonder . . . oh no.” A look of worry comes over Illoa's face as she whispers, “Trissa, make sure you have a safe place to hide around here. I'm guessing it is only a matter of time before those legion spears are pointed at the people of Udro.” “Now the cook's waiting for this cut and the blacksmith is waiting for me. Let's get it done. I tell you, Trissa, if there is something you want in this world, the only way is to make it yourself.”  <<Thanks again for the game and I posted Illoa's dramatic monologue RP story that she told you in her journal page for you guys to check out.>>

The barback mutters to himself grumpily as he wipes the floor clean of the spilled ale. His knees hurt a bit from the hard floors. "I'm telling you this will be good for Udro!", says the sloppily drunk dwarf. "Finally, allies out here in the wastelands!" "Ha!", says his human companion. "You trust a bunch of Kobolds? Or the adventurers story? I swear that stupid Jericho will believe anything. A group of adventurers return from the wilds with a peace treaty of some type from some kingdom of Kobolds, and we are supposed to believe them? HA!" The human grabs his mug of ale, on the third try, having misjudged the distance of the mug twice. He was even drunker than the dwarf. "Hey this empty! BOY! Bring me another ale," he shouts, and throws some coppers at the barback. The barback, picks the coppers off the floor, and stands up. He stares at the drunk dwarf, the tall skinny human, and their third companion, a shorter fatter man who has fallen asleep sitting up. How much the barback would love to kick each of them in the groin. He turns and walks over to the bar, where the Innkeeper is already pouring another ale. The three drunks had showed up less than a week ago, tradesman of some type. They had acquired a little coin on their trip over, apparently taking the entire ship of a good portion of their money with some sort of dice game. They had spent half of it here in the Rusty Spoke Tavern & Inn. They had tried to get others to play the game here, but the barback took one look at the dice, and advised his boss not to allow it. The die were loaded of course. The barback grabs the freshly poured ale, and walks back to the table. "I'm telling you if I was running this place, I would have had those adventurers throw in a stockade for lying," says the skinny human. The barback holds back a spitting reply. The three tradesman had decided that 5 days was more than enough, for smart gentleman like themselves, to become experts on everything in Udrus. "No I tell you, the peace treaty is real! I was in the knight's office myself on trade matters," says the dwarf. "I saw the tablet myself, written in draconic." "You don't read draconic!" snorted the skinny human. "I read enough to recognize the words and phrases like 'peace' and 'allies' and 'black magic goblins'. I also saw the gems that were returned," the dwarf's eyes begin to sparkle at the memory. "Not the greatest gems in the world but gems for sure. This will be a great thing for Udro! A new ally, a new trade route! We will be rich!" The third companion wakes up from his hazy drunken sleep and says, "I thought Kobolds spoke common." The barback places the cup of ale in front of the tall skinny human. "Try not to spill this one," he says. The human puffs his chest out and begins to deliver his retort, when he stops himself short and stares past the barback further into the Inn. The barback turns around to see Turki, slowly coming down the stairs from the upstairs rooms. The whole bar falls silent. Ever since the night of the cursed copper, all the patrons had given Turki a wide birth. He had returned two nights ago from the south, being chased by wolves. He had set out with a fresh bunch of adventurers, and when he returned he didn't look any better. Rumor had it that he was part of the group that had brought back the stone tablet of peace from the Kobolds, though the barback had a hard time believing that Turki would have actually parted with the jewels that were given to Knight Jericho. Turki slowly wanders towards the fire, and the two gentleman sitting in the plush chairs nearby immediately vacate their seats. Turki slowly sits down in one of the vacated chairs and stretches his legs out towards the fire. He sits staring in the flames as quiet as a mouse. Once Turki sits, the bar returns to normal conversation though a hair quieter than before. The barback immediately turns and goes to the bar, where the Innkeeper has already poured a fresh mug of ale for Turki. "Remember, don't accept any of his coppers!" the innkeeper whispers to the barback. "Why not just offer this one on the house, to avoid any chance of touching it?" says the barback. The innkeeper stares at the barback for a moment. He struggles with protecting himself from the curse, and his normal instincts to squeeze every last gold, silver, and copper from his customers. "Alright," he says, "this one is...free." The innkeeper almost had to spit to get that last word out. The barback grabs the ale, and walks over to Turki, who is sitting comfortably by the fire. As the barback approaches, he notices the little end table next to Turki's chair. On it are two coins. The first is undoubtedly the cursed copper, which the barback had seen on a previous occasion. The second, however, is a silver coin. The barback slows his step for a moment, and then sets the tankard right next to the coins. "You can steal those if you dare, but I wouldn't recommend it," Turki speaks. He continues to stare into the fire. "I wouldn't dare sir," the barback replies. "HA! I am sure you wouldn't." Turki continues his stare into the fire. "May I inspect the silver?" "If you like." The barback takes out a cloth napkin and picks up the silver coin with it. It appears to be a simple normal silver coin, but the barback has an eerie feeling about it. He flips it over to see scratch marks on the other side. 'Suffering,' written in the Cant. The barback looks up to see Turki, watching his face intently. "Sit down boy. You seem a little young to be in this place. How did you end up here?" Turki says. The speech was slightly off, subtle inconsistencies in the intonations and pauses between words. Most would not notice, but the barback recognized the speech within the speech. Brother? The barback looks up around the room and spots the local halfling minstrel quietly approaching up from behind Turki. When the minstrel had first arrived a month ago, the Inn was glad to hear all the songs he could sing. But it turned out he didn't know that many, and soon exhausted what titles he knew. The Inn had soon grown tired of his rendition of 'Pretty Fly for a Dwarven Guy'. He was hunting for new stories, to make new songs. The barback knew Turki's natural inclinations would be to remain in the shadows and out of the public spotlight. The barback sat into the chair opposite chair of Turki. His eyes never revealed the location of the halfing. There was no need to, since Turki had obviously been aware of the eavesdropper when he switched to the secret speech. "There is not much to tell," the barback says. "My orphanage was closed, and they sent me here for the 'fresh air'". Yes. Thief. The halfling crept slightly closer, clutching his lute close to his chest. "Ah. The Empire directing the poor unfortunates to new land for better opportunities. Sounds familiar," says Turki. Guild here? "Many here have a similar story. As you can see around us, we are the crap of the Empire," the barback replies. Yes. Small. The minstrel takes one more step forward. In a flash, Turki withdraws a dagger from his boot. He slides the dagger under the strings of the halfling's lute, and cuts the strings with a horrible twang. The halfling stand stunned by the actions, while the patrons of the bar turn their heads to the source of the sound. "Oh good! We won't have to hear 'All the single gnomes' song again!" a patron in the back shouts. The whole bar barks in laughter and returns to their drinks. The halfling shines a weak smile towards Turki. Turki simply stares at the halfling. From across the bar, the short fat tradesman stands up and shouts, "I'm telling you Kobolds speak common. In fact I think they invented it!" The halfling immediately rushes over to the tradesmans' table, still clutching his lute. "Perhaps he will write a song about the Kobolds' mystic invention of our mother language," the barback says. Turki laughs. "As long as stops writing songs where he describes my looks. I might still need to take up a little robbery soon." Turki turns to check his surroundings. When he sure no one is within hearing distance, he turns back to the barback and resumes their conversation in common. "Can you arrange an introduction with the guild master?" "I might," the barback replies. "Why?" "I need allies. No one knows a damned thing about Ikseliad. If I am going to get that bastard, I need information. His motives, his residence, any scrap of information that I can get. I presume the guild master would have the resources to reveal any information that could be found." "I'll see what I can do." The barback glances at the silver coin. "How did you come by that?" Turki's demeanor immediately changes. "I was on watch. I turned my head for just a moment, and when I looked back at the fire he was sitting there. He offered me a way out. And threw me a sack of four silver coins. He told me if I planted on my compatriots that my debt would be repaid, or that I could take a coin myself." The barback blinked for a moment. "Given that you have the silver coin in front of you I take it you did not plant it on your compatriots, though - " "You find it hard to believe that I chose to, ugh, sacrifice myself. I do too, brother. Any other circumstance I probably would have. But this fiend is too terrible to loose on anyone else. Besides it will make it all the more satisfying when I shove these coins down his throat, just before I slit it." The barback nods and stands up. Just before he walks away, the barback stops. He speaks in the Cant, "Is it true you gave Jericho a bag full of jewels from the Kobolds?" "Who says the bag was full?" The barback smiles. Turki is still a thief and the world is not totally out of alignment. He returns to the bar to do another bit of cleaning. The entrance doors of the Inn open and Sharaska the Dragonborn, Danno the Archer, and Illoa enter. "The shield maiden!" the halfling cries. The barback turns to watch the halfling scurry up to Illoa. Stories of Illoa's legendary shield work had spread throughout Udro. The halfling both desperate for new stories to sing, and also with a very apparent crush on her, had taken to following Illoa around like a puppy whenever she entered the Inn. The halfling stands directly in front of Illoa, puffs out his chest, and says, "Shieldmaiden, I have prepared a new song for you." He strums at his instrument, but is surprised to neither make contact with the strings nor make a note. The whole rooms burst into uproarious laughter, as the halfing remembers that Turki had just cut the strings on his instrument. He blushes in embarrassment. The three adventurers brush past the little halfing, Illoa not even sparing a glance for the little minstrel. They walk directly to the fire, and all three stop short when they see the silver coin on the side table next to Turki's chair. "Is that?" Danno asks "It is," Turki replies, "but lets talk of that another day. Illoa, we have found the source of the mutated wolves." Illoa looks to Turki expectantly. Turki continues, "The kobolds call them 'Goblin Wolves'. And we have confirmed from their own mouths, they have found a new dark power that is giving them some extra umph. The berserker goblins, the deformed wolves, its all connected to their stronghold, somewhere in the southeast." "And how were the new adventurers?" asks Sharaska. Turki thinks for a moment. "Quirky, a little green, but very capable. Especially Yulex!" "Yulex?!?!" Danno asks incredulously, "the bowl stealer?" "Yes," Turki replies. "The minstrel has given him a new title...the Shield Leaper"

<< Thanks everyone for the game. It was actually pretty epic!>>

<<"The Shield Leaper" I love you for that.>>

Adventurers come hither, come forth, lend thy ear, as I speak these very words of truth, you may drink your beer. I tell a tale about a man, petrified, cold and snared. His teeth, sharp to impale, skin hardened like Mail. A glare so frightening it makes the strongest warriors pale. A man named fang, who ran his gang. Deadly as he was swift, who made a mistake planing a heist for the golden grail, he didn't know afterwards would yield his last fail.  Sliced in two, as blood flew, his eyes faded to white. The warrior spat on his lifeless body. He slaughtered the rest of the gang like animals, as if it were some sort of zoo. This man was my father, he was the towns bother. <<Schnell's Speech before being cut off.>>

As Yulex wanders around town, sight seeing, he keeps feeling off about the curse that was placed on his arm. He wonders if it will come back to haunt him later, but before he could contemplate any further, he suddenly hears, "Shield Leaper!". As he looked up, he just sees a random child waving to him. Naturally, Yulex returns the wave eagerly because he hasn't made many friends in town, but then it clicks that the kid called him Shield Leaper. Yulex says, "Um, did you call me shield leaper?". The kid replied," Yes?, You are him arn't you?" Yulex thinking back, remembered he did leap off Schnell's shield to kill the goblin he was holding. "Uh yea, I guess so, but how did you know? You been following me?" The kid quickly said,"Oh no no no! I uh, heard ! Yea that's it, I heard it from one of your buddies, uh Turki I think he was?" "Ah, Turki, at least I've made one buddy. Although, the Sergeant is still on bad terms with me I think, guess first impressions really do matter. Ah well cya kiddo." Yulex starts to walk away, but the child catches up to him and points to his arm,"Whats wrong with it, why is it glowing?" "Well first off kiddo, thats not really something you should nonchalantly ask someone, but lucky for you I am a pretty chilled out guy." Yulex then proceeds to strike a little pose, which the child giggles at. "Noted." Yulex then goes ahead and tell the child how his village and arm was destroyed by a giant, and how a strange hermit used steel and magic to get him a replacement. The kid then asks," But your arm is silver, not steel." Yulex kind of sighs and says, "Yea, that sort of stuff happens when  you get too stupid, so thats your second lesson. Basically I touched a gravestone that was able to melt metal with this arm and it leaked divine energy onto it. Thankfully the druid got me some help, and it eventually lead to me paying 50 gold and having silver poured onto it." The kid nods and mutters,"So that was what the black stuff was." Yulex just stares at his arm again and says"Still at least I have some sort of silver weapon, so maybe I have to thank that giant when I see him." The kid looks at him with a weird look, but at this point Yulex is used to getting those looks and doesn't notice."So the giant is here?" "I wouldn't say around the corner close, but somewhere in Udrus." The kid just sort of nods, and says"I think its about time I go, I'll cya later Shield Leaper!", and then started to run off into the crowd. "Weird, I would have never thought my hero name to turn into Shield Leaper." Yulex mutters to himself with a slight smile.

The barback slowly cleans the table with his dirty cloth rag. It was a quiet night at The Rusty Spoke Tavern & Inn. Just a few regulars drinking and talking amongst themselves, the halfling minstrel strumming quietly on his recently repaired lute, and of course Turki sitting in an old plush chair across from the fireplace, staring into the flames and drinking his ale silently. The 'Expert' tradesman had found lodgings and work of some type in Udro, and were no longer the frequent customers as they had been in the past. A pity, the barback thinks to himself. He would like to have practiced some basic pickpocketing skill and recovered the tips they frequently jipped him of. The Innkeeper, returns out of the back with some extra casks of ale. Given the quiet nature of the night, it was an excellent time to catch up on restocking and cleaning. The small minstrel, seeing the old grizzled Innkeeper returning, runs up to him urgently. "Master Jonath, Master Jonath!" the halfling shouts. "What is it, Lightfoot?" the old Innkeeper barks at him, with an annoyed tone in his voice. "I have composed a new song sir, as requested. Would you like to hear it?" "Yes, thank god! As funny as the Shield Leaper's March is, I am ready for something different." The halfling rushes over to the raised stone lip that surrounds the fireplace. The minstrel often used it as a makeshift stage. He is about to begin, but then notices Turki sitting in the chair next to the fire. He takes a large step to the right, well clear of Turki's reach. He strums his lute and clear his throat with an audible cough. He sings: Come closer friends and tell me clear Have you heard the dark whispers in your ear The Old God awakes and sings his name To lure new followers and further his game The Old god returns The Old god returns His name remains hidden, his shape unknown, his intent far from clear Some he recruits, some he burns, but always he spreads evil and fear His followers praise him, and wear his dolls They sacrifice others to create burning thralls Small foxes, and giant frogs made of burning flame are summoned by acolytes who praise his name The Old god returns The Old god returns His name remains hidden, his shape unknown, his intent far from clear Some he recruits, some he burns, but always he spreads evil and fear The followers will fall with an easy jolt but not before they hurl a deadly firebolt Interrogate them as you will their lips remain silent His name kept secret no matter how violent The Old god returns The Old god returns His name remains hidden, his shape unknown, his intent far from clear Some he recruits, some he burns, but always he spreads evil and fear The halfling finishes the last chord of the song and looks up to find the whole bar staring at him in disbelief, all except Turki whose eyes have never wavered from the fire. For a moment all is silent. The Innkeeper rushes over and picks up the halfline by his shirt collar. "Have you lost your marbles?" the Innkeeper shouts. "Why would I want you to scare my customers, let alone speak aloud of the Whispers?!?!" "It's just a song, Master Jonath," the halfling squeaks. "Just a song?!?! JUST A SONG!?!?!" the Innkeeper booms. He tosses the halfing down onto the floor, and storms off into the back storage room in a huff. The regulars watch this all unfold with fear in their eyes, and then return to their drinks. The barback walks over to the poor minstrel and helps him off the floor. "I would not recommend singing that song again, Lightfoot" the barback says. "Jonath's niece disappeared 6 months ago after complaining about whispers in the night the week prior. He never speaks about it, but it is never far from his mind." The barback beats some dust of the halfings back. "Perhaps you should aim for a lighter song nextime." "I have a possible story for you, minstrel," Turki interrupts, "how about a wandering zombie orc." "How is that lighter?" the barback asks incredulously. Turki shrugs. "He's actually pretty harmless. We encountered him in the foot hills of the mountains to the west. Didn't really surprise us as you can him moaning from about a mile away. Danno shot him with an arrow, didn't hurt him, but he asked if we were his 'master'. Poor thing, actually belived that we were the master's servants. I must have been tired that night, because I didn't get much information from him. Hopefully we spot him again and try to get a little more details about his master from him. Anyways I sent him north to Fort Boulder Breaker." "Why there?" asks the barback. "Lord Bill Ivanson," Turki replied simply. "Oh Oh Oh!" the halfling jumps and down with joy.  His face lights up and he grabs his lute. "I have been working on a song about Lord Ivanson, but I only have the chorus. Let me play for it you." The halfling rushes back onto the lip in front of the fireplace. The barback sighs, the minstrel's original songs were never that great. But he could hardly stop him. Littlefoot, needed some kind of pickup, and any new songs would be greatly appreciated. Nor matter how poor. "It's sung as if I am the gracious lord," the halfling explains. The barback prepares himself, as this will clearly be a doosey. The halfing strums his lute: I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole) I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole) I pay silvers for tasks that should have paid gold And rat on adventurers to their foes of old I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole) I'm an asshole (He's a real fucking asshole) The halfling stops. "As I said its just the chorus so far." The barback smiles. That song wasn't half bad.

Recap for 10/10/15 Sparks fly at the smithy of Barney Greathall. After days of study under his supervision, Illoa begins the arduous task of forging her first creation. To the rhythmic pounding of the hammer, she thinks back on her group's last foray into the Wilds of Udrus. "Miserable. Truly miserable. I tempted my friends with a story of strong metal. I failed to find it. I promised Barthal that he would be safe, but I failed to protect him from the fire frog. I swore not to feel pain, but the fire burned me." Shaking her head as if she would like to forget it all, she sets down the hammer.  "This place tests us, truly. I never wanted war . . ." "We did find things that the others should know about though. The fire cultist's cave in the foothills of the mountains (NW side of H3) is now safe to use as a camp site. The dwarven ruins by the river (south side of H3) are worth exploring further. I wonder if they built a forge there long ago? It might make a good site for a base. Bah, such a thing would cost money, of which I now have none. It took everything I had to scrape together enough for . . ." Looking back into the shadowed recesses of the forge, Illoa appraises the creation taking shape, one piece at a time.  "But it is worth it. Yes. This is necessary." Sparks fly and the hammering begins again, with an even more forceful urgency. <<Thanks for the game and see you next time folks!>>

Recap, 10/17/2015 In the dim red glow of sunset, a motley crowd of beggars, farmers, and laborers gathers at the Udro town square. Climbing atop a wooden crate, a sturdily built woman with a perpetual frown addresses the somber group. Illoa's voice and demeanor are hardly inspiring, but she speaks with a resigned, practiced tone, as though she has done this more than once before. “Good people of Udro, we have gathered today to remember our friend, Brathal, a brave and honorable warrior, a warrior who gave his life defending the people of Udro. When we set out to destroy the Ankheg nest to the north <in G5>, Brathal did not hesitate to face the peril. Though the spit of those monsters burned his flesh, though their terrible stench harmed his lungs, though their claws pierced his flesh, still he stood and fought. Down into their dark nest we fought, killing beast after beast, until we entered the room of their queen. There, Brathal stood fearlessly at my side and after many, many blows were struck at last the monster was killed.” “Yet the battle left him weaker than any of us thought. On the journey back <border of G7 & H6> to Udro, a group of scarecrows ambushed us and slashed good Brathal to death. In the heat of battle, one of them even dragged his body off, denying him a proper burial. It would be good if someone went looking for him in the future, or I will.” “Brathal was the first dwarf I ever met. And he was good.” An old priest in ragged gray robes hobbles forth, addressing the crowd in a quivering tone: “Let us end our ceremony for Brathal with a reading from the Yaktul, the holy book of Al-largu, high god of tactics; chapter twenty seven, verse five.” “When battle be joined, seek thee always to stay close to thine tank. For, verily, should thee stray far (more than 5' away!), she shall be sorely vexed in her efforts to protect thee.” “Amen.” <Super epic game folks, see you next time!>

Recap 10/19/2015 A chilly fog descends on the small graveyard at the outskirts of Udro. The sound of a shovel scraping on dirt whispers through the air. There, a familiar sturdy, frowning, and weary figure puts the last shovel of soil on the newest grave. Collapsing on to her knees, Illoa gasps in an exhaustion caused by far more than the simple physical task of burial. Next to her a man in tattered priest's robes stands silently. “I understand now. It is my fate to watch those around me die, even with everything I do to protect them.” “Bret was but a boy. I thought I was helping him by bringing him along to fight the goblins. I thought it would be a good chance for him to prove his mettle, or at least stop harassing the serving girls at the Rusty Spoke. How wrong I was.” “We had barely left Udro when the scarecrows struck again. They ripped Bret to shreds in seconds. Though we fought them off with fire, it was not before his wounds killed him. I tried to save him, I swear. I tried to bandage him. I failed.” “Someone is creating these scarecrow monsters with foul witchery. They must be stopped. I do not know who this person is, or where they might be, but it all has something to do with the fetishes. Maybe we need to return to the coast to the east (H10), where we found the first fetish, on the corpse of the slain merrow. Maybe some clue is there.” “After that, a man named Yar joined us, and we were able to make our way south toward the goblin stronghold. On our way (J4) we discovered a grove, with a pool of water where lived a water dragon spirit. This spirit offered us a place to rest and asked us to find a sword for him. The sword is in a cave far to the east along the coast, several days' march away.” “Then we headed west, sneaking through the scrublands until we made it to the goblin camp (J2). We found the little runts to be very good with bows. They rained arrows upon us from platforms in the trees above, causing much damage. While we bashed through the first group of them with only one casualty, the second group was too strong. We were able to kill their wolves but then fled.” “The next group of heroes to attack them must be better prepared to face the barrage of arrows. Staying behind cover is key. Attacks must also be coordinated to prevent less heavily armored members from being targeted and killed. With luck, the goblins will fall on our next attack.” Illoa rises and dusts off her clothes. Turning to her silent companion, she says: “good priest, the people of Whitehold, my people, have a saying: 'There are no old warriors.'” “I know it is only a matter of time before luck turns on me. Soon enough it will be I who is being buried. But for Bret, it is not right! He had hardly begun his journey. It is not right.” The old priest looks up, opening his holy book. “Only through devotion to Al-largu, high god of tactics, can the vicissitudes of luck be staved off. Let us finish with a reading from the Yaktul, chapter fourteen, verse one hundred and thirty.” “On the occasion when dread archers attack thee, if thy armor be not of a heavy type, first shall thee seek a solid obstruction behind which to hide. Thou shall be not afraid to move out of thy cover, release a ranged attack at thy foes, and then move back behind cover in one graceful motion. If thou finds that the dread archers dost ready attacks for thee to move out of cover, then shall thou wait for thy heavily armored companions to attract the fire of thine foes first. Then, and only then, shall thee attack.” “So has the great Al-largu spoken. Amen.” <<Great job staying positive despite our setbacks last night folks! See you next time!>>

Third journal entry: Death comes to us all, some sooner than later. The other day, a young man was making a bit of a stir at the tavern, wanting to go out and put an end to the strange goblins to the south. It seemed a foolhardy task to me, but Illoa rose to accompany him, and she has proven a capable fighter, so I decided to follow. What a mistake that proved to be. We were joined by a dwarven paladin who claimed nobility, but it did not show in his demeanor. Shortly outside of town, we were attacked by several animated scarecrows that came from the fields. The battle proved deadly, and although we managed to emerge victorious, the young man, a bard by trade I believe, succumbed to one of the scarecrows. I was able to acquire a fetish from one of the defeated scarecrows; it warrants more study as it may be involved in the ritual that animates the creatures. We returned to town with his body, to pay it the proper rights, and the next morning set out again with a friend of the young man, to serve his memory by completing the task of eliminating the goblins. We encountered a small patrol of goblins, and dispatched them without much difficulty, other than their somewhat otherworldly resistance to death. Shortly after the battle, we discovered a small grove that held a pool of water (J4, NE of center). Deeming it a good place to make camp, we approached to set up camp, and were surprised as a dragon spirit rose from the water. The creature seemed trustworthy, and offered us sanctuary and a place to rest. In return, it asked us to retrieve a sword for it, from somewhere to the north east, near the coast. What it could want with a sword is anyone’s guess. The next morning, we set out to the goblin stronghold, were able to gain entry, and managed to kill a large number of goblins. In the end however, their numbers proved too great, especially the archers, and we were barely managed to escape with our lives. We returned to town, licking our wounds, but knowing that we made a dent in their numbers, and the next group to venture to the stronghold may have an easier time ahead of them. [The majority of the next several passages have been blacked out with ink, which has apparently been smeared about the page by a finger or two. The page is crumpled slightly and scored deeply and in some places torn completely through, seemingly by the point of a quill. Not a single word remains unmarred, and the few letters that remain are strung together with too many consonants, and apostrophes in unusual places. The journal then continues…] When I awoke this morning, I found a new book in my hand. It is an exquisite gift, and there are mysterious powers secreted away inside it. The hooks still feel quite painful, but the bleeding stopped rather quickly. I must do my best to live up to the promise in this boon. Several of the townsfolk have commented on the small owl that has begun following me around. I’m not sure what they’re talking about, owls only have two eyes, and nowhere near that many teeth.

"I'm telling you I saw it with my own eyes!," the dwarf shouts at the tall skinny human sitting across from him. The barback sighs audibly, as he cleans up the latest spill on the floor. The Expert tradesman had returned last night. Apparently they had duped some local farmers to play dice again. They were here spending thier ill-gotten gains. None of them could hold their ale, as evidenced by their third spilled drink. "Turki, Illoa, Yulex, and that new Paladin dwarf...uh what's his name?" the dwarf continued. "Morgran!" the shorter fatter human pipes up suddenly, and then immediately laid his head on the table passing out again. He was always the first to pass out. The barback and the inn keeper had a running bet on how many words the fat one would speak before he passed out for a good. So far it was only 10 words, but if he spoke anymore, the barback would lose the bet. The barback decides it might be a good idea to lace the fat one's drink with a little something, just to make sure. "Right, Morgran," the drawf continues. " I'm telling you I saw them fighting one of those damn scarecrows just outside of town. I watched Turki pluck one of those ugly witch's fetish right out of his chest. The thing just fell over." "HA!" the tall thin human countered. "Next thing you will be telling me you believe those stories about the Obsidian Knight!" "No, those are definitely true! My friend Halbret's sister's fiance saw him just last night, wandering the dunes..." This conversation would continue on for a while, the barkback thinks to himself. At least this would probably be their last night for a while. The barback had managed to pinch a few coins from their pouches, and found them very close to bare. They would have to go back to normal work soon, and leave the barback in peace with the normal crowd of adventurers and usuals. Just then the front door opens, and in walks Turki. As soon as he steps in, a fowl stench sweeps across the room. A smell of hair, fish, and body order fills the nostrils of everyone in the establishment. Many people cover their noses with their shirts, or napkins, some even pinch them shut, doing whatever they can to keep the scent out of their noses. "What on Lothander's green earth is that smell?" asks the Innkeeper, his face covered by a washcloth. Turki looks sheepish for a moment. "Bugbear. Innkeeper I'll need a hot bath, and soap. Lots of soap." "You'll need a hundred baths with brooms for scrubs to get that smell off of you," the innkeeper shouts, as heads up stairs to get the bath ready and probably to escape the smell as well. Turki wanders towards the back of bar towards the plush chairs by the fire. Normally anyone sitting in those chairs would vacate. But this time the entire back of the bar clears out and moves to the front seeking to escape the stench. Turki sits in the chair by the fire and stretches out his feet towards the fire. The barback quickly gets up and grabs an ale from the bar originally meant the short fat expert tradesman. He wasn't going to drink it anyways. He brings it to Turki, though his pace falters for a moment when the stench jumps up his nose as he gets closer. "Dare I ask?" says the barback as he sets the ale down next to Turki. "A misunderstanding. We were looking for a cave with a sword. We mistaking thought it was in the home of some bugbear clan to the northeast of the Kobolds. We tried to communicate, but none of us speak Goblin or Draconic. They weren't happy we were there. So we left and tried to sneak back in." Turki takes a long sip of this ale, "Gah!! I didn't think it was possible, but this smell actually makes this ale taste worse." He sets the ale back down on the side table. "Unfortunately the rest of my group is not the best at stealth. We had to run, though not before killing a few of them, their giant snake, wounding their chieftain, and watching Yulex almost die. It was not the best day." Turki stares into the fire for a moment, "I hope we didn't start a war. Gods know we have enough problems as it is. From now on we should probably always have someone who speaks goblin with us." Turki looks at the barback, "You don't speak Goblin, do you?" The barback shakes his head. "Ugh doesn't matter. This whole place is falling apart as it is. And I can't do a damn thing about it until I get my hand on some real gold, or some sort of magical weapon." Suddenly, the drunk dwraven expert tradesman comes wander over. "Tell them Turki! Tell them that you ripped the fetish right out of a scarecrow's chest." Turki takes another sip of his ale, and makes a grimace. "Yup, sure did. Though I would be careful trying to do it yourself. Damn fetish shocked me and knocked me on my ass. If you tried it would probably kill you." The innkeeper stomps down the stairs. His voice booms loudly, "Turki your bath is ready. Now get your ass up there and scrub that stench off your urbanite ass before it sticks to the walls of my Inn." Turki downs the rest of his ale. "If you will excuse me gentleman its time to go clean behind my ears." Turki stands up and starts to move up the stairs. He stops suddenly in the middle staircase, and pauses contemplatively for a moment. "That's it. The god-damned book of trees. I can get some type of strong wood for a bow! I gotta talk to Blackcloak!" Turki turns to run back down the stairs. The innkeeper stops him short. "Oh No! I will not have your foul stench returning back to my inn. You either bathe now, or you never return." Turki pauses for a moment, and then smells his armpit. "I think in this case you are right, a bath first." Turki turns and disappears upstairs. Arten Blackcloak, the druid, would be an excellent place to visit, the barback thinks to himself. If anything he can purchase some sage to try and get rid of the smell currently lingering in the air of the bar.

<<Thanks for the game folks. Excited for the next one!>>

<<Because at this point my brain is committed>> The Innkeeper, Master Jonath   The bumbling Halfling minstrel Our nameless barback

10/24/2015 Session Sharaska took a seat on a log by the campfire. “I see you’ve been hunting, but not for your quarry.” Sharaska sits rigid. “We had a might bounty! After killing that damned witch and her thralls (in H10), we could live like kings!” “You hunt that which is not your quarry, but another’s. You dare mock my ancient rules?” “A hunter must hunt. Would you rather I leave those wolves to feast on villagers, or sit idly as that hag turns more of my companions into lifeless thralls?” Herne looks Sharaska in the eye, his immaculate antlers standing tall, his powerful goat legs stretching out, revealing his full stature. “Mortal, have you come to make a pact to me, only to spit at my face and desecrate these grounds?” “I made a deal with you, I would hunt in your name, and you would lend me your powers. Have my offerings not been enough? Those wolves (I8?), or those salamanders (H10), or the giant frogs (F6?), even the merrow that hag had were all killed in your name. The manticore will come, allow me some time.” Herne ponders for a moment, analyzing the details of the dragonborn’s face in front of him. “Fine. You will continue to hunt. Be warned, the foes you may chase after may also be chasing you.” Sharaska nods, and as all fades to black, he wakes up. He turns his attention to Brathal’s greataxe. “You were a fearless one, even then, you fought valiantly.”

Turki jolts awake with a start, half-rising from the bed, and reaching for the dagger that would be in his boot. "Goddamn archer!" He begins to panic, when he can't reach the dagger. He quickly realizes that the dagger is not there, because he has no boots on. In fact, he only has his undergarments on. Turki's eyes goes wide for a moment, as he considers that he is completely unproctected. But he sees the familiar old rough wood walls of his room, and lies back down in his bed. "Ah good, you're awake!" the barback says. "I've won the bet" The barback walks over to Turki and extends a mug towards him. Turki sits up in bed and accepts the mug. He takes a drink, and finds cool refreshing water. "What was the bet?" Turki asks. "Master Jonath believed it would be another 2 days at least before you woke from your fever dreams. I wagered a few silvers that you were tougher than that." Turki takes another sip of the water, "How long have I been out for?" "Only a day. Sharaska dragged you in here yesterday, barely alive. He took you up to your room, and Illoa and Schnell gathered the staff here to organize care. Master Jonath was initially resistant to the staff devoting so much attention to you, but Illoa pulled out the snake staff she has, and he quickly changed his mind." "HA! I would have change my mind too. That weapon scared the Lathander out of me the first time I saw it transform." "I think the whole bar is even more weary of her after that. She was quite intent that you survive." "She has seen a lot of death in her time here - it weighs on her." Turki takes a large gulp, and finishes the mug of water. "Besides she owes me." The barback takes the empty mug from Turki. "Oh we have all heard the stories by now." The barback stands up with the mug and moves to the small shaky table opposite Turki's bed. "In fact, our little minstrel has composed several new songs about your most recent trip." Turki's face goes still, "Oh no." The barback sets the empty mug down, and grabs a bowl full of a steamy broth. "Oh yes," the barback says as he carefully walks back to Turki's bed. "Did you really dive from a tree branch into the river to pull Illoa out of the river?" The barback hands the bowl to Turki. "Yes," Turki takes a long sip from the bowl. The barback knew the soup would taste good. The cook had taken to using the bones from the meat Illoa had butchered during her off days. The soup was simple, but hearty and would help to restore some of Turki's strength. "The world of Udrus is difficult, and you need every ally you can get here. I wasn't about to let Illoa's shield disappear from the battle." Turki continues, though still sipping the broth inbetween the words. "Yes the song about Illoa's armor and shield is the most popular one right now. I belive it's said that her armor turned aside a thousand blows without a single scratch falling on her." "I am not sure it was that high, but I lost count of the number of the strikes that she withstood." "Well downstairs are certainly merry about it. The halfling has been singing non-stop since you got back. 'Schnell's mighty fist', 'The arcane revenge of Sharaska', and oh..." The barback pauses for effect. "Turki, the tree leaper" Turki rolls his eyes. "Oh dear gods." The barback smiles. "Yes I was quite proud to think of that title." Turki stares at the barback for a moment, and then finishes his bowl of broth. The barback sits back down in his chair opposite Turki. "I think everyone is just excited that a serious blow was struck against the goblins. I know you were not able to clear the area, but the killing of the goblin chief was huge. At least, that is what everyone downstairs believe." Turki's sets the bowl down by the bed and takes a big sigh. "I'm not sure it was that effective." "I figured as much." The barback stands up and looks out the tiny window in the room. "I overheard Illoa discussing how many of the goblins she killed were the same ones she killed before. That she thinks they had been reanimated." "I was afraid of that. I think the camp needs to be wiped out immediately, or Udro will soon bear the brunt of its retaliation." Turki pauses for a moment, lost in his thoughts. He slams his fist into the side of the bed in a moment of frustration. "I am a fool. I took a foolish risk and almost died twice for it. Archers and ranged weapons are we really needed to assault those goblins, that and taking every opportunity to fall prone to limit your exposure to their arrows. Maybe oil and fire to burn them out, but that would limit any access to the cliffs above. And now I don't even enough money to purchase a health potion. There is nothing worse than a poor theif." The barback turns back to Turki, "Quite whining. You're alive. Be greatful for that. And now I have to return to my duties, and of course collect my winnings from Master Jonath." The barback begins to leave the room. "Just one more thing," Turki asks. "Who removed my clothing?" "I believe Ingrid volunteered to do that." "The 60 year old maid?" The barback smiles and laughs. Turki considers it for a moment, "Well I hope she enjoyed the view."

Recap 11/01/2015 The barback stares at the handle of the door at the entrance into the Rusty Spoke Tavern & Inn, trying to decide what to do. Normally opening the door wouldn't be a problem, after all the barback had two hands like all normal humanoids and he could just twist the handle and pull. But the barback's hands are currently filled with books and journals, and loose leaf papers. It had taken a several attempts to stack all the research material into his arms without toppling over. Any slight movements of his arms and the whole thing would fall out. The barback heads snaps up as he hears a loud sound coming from the other door. He could hear the sounds of a large individual dragging something along the floor. The barback takes a few steps back from the door. A large mountain of a man shoves open the door with one hand, and throws out a short fat man that he is dragging out of the door and 5 feet into the air. The short fat man falls quite ungracefully into a small muddy puddle, landing in a half slumped position with his butt hanging in the air. He stares back up towards the Inn's new bouncer. One of the Expert Tradesman had tried to ply their rigged game in the Inn it appears. Master Jonath steps out from behind the mountain man. "I told you to never bring your rigged dice game here. Go home and sleep off your booze. And the next time you try that you'll be banned for life." Master Jonath turns back, pats Thumper on the shoulder, and then heads back into the Inn. Thumper showed up a few days ago, refusing to tell anyone his name. A large individual, even for a Half-Orc, he quickly earned the nickname "Thumper" for the sound his fists made when he struck an unruly patron that had gotten in his face. Master Jonath had offered him a job as a bouncer for the Inn that night. But "Thumper" refused and set out into the wilds on his own to take up adventuring. He returned two days later, barely alive, after an encounter with the dark goblins. As soon as he recovered, he accepted the much safer position of bouncer in the Inn. This was his official first day, and it seemed to be off to a good start. Thumper stares at the man in the puddle, snorts, and then turns to go back into the Inn. The barback quickly follows in behind him, and slips inside the Inn before the door closes. The other two Expert tradesman sit quietly at their normal table, staring very intently at their drinks. Thumper gives them a steely glare and returns to his stool by the door. The barback walks to the back of the bar, heading towards the roaring fire and plushy chairs that had become Turki's study . The small side table next to the plush chair, already had a number of books and papers that Turki had been searching through. The barback was unsure of what Turki was researching, but he had been very dedicated. The barback sets the newest sets of books and papers on the table. "Hey, boy!" The barback turns around, and sees the tall thin Expert tradesman staring at him, holding an empty cup in the air. "I'm out of drink." "I apologize, sir, but I am currently engaged in other matters," the barback replies. "The bar is right over there, and I trust your feet can get you there." "Listen you little snot! I have been getting my own drinks for over an hour, while you were out and about playing with your papers. If you know what's good for you, you'll get me a drink, and you will pay for it too." Thumper was about to stand up, when a loud thump sounds on the table between the tall tradesman and his drunken dwarf companion. The tall tradesman looks to his right to see Turki standing just behind him, with his hand on the table. That was impressive, the barback thinks to himself. He hadn't seen Turki's approach at all. It was quite a sight to see him emerge from the shadows like that. "My apologies, gentleman," Turki begins. "I have been employing our young master here in my research efforts. This has taken him away from his normal duties, but I assure its very important. Let me buy you your next round as a way of an apology." Turki removes his hand from the table to reveal a single silver coin with some scratchings on it. The dwarf companion takes an audible inhalation of breath, and falls out of his chair trying to get away from the coin. The tall tradesman would have done the same, except that Turki's hand was on his shoulder holding in him place. "Um, no sir that's okay," the tradesman replies. "Are you sure? I would hate to think I am inconveniencing you." "No trouble at all. It's good for me to stretch my legs anyways. I...I...I need the exercise." Turki leans down next to ear and whispers, "Glad to hear it." He grabs the silver coin back and walks back towards fire and the barback. He immediately grabs the top book off the new pile, plops into the chair and begins scanning the pages. "That was impressive," the barback says. "I hope that will be included in this week's lesson." "You have to learn to crawl before you can walk, young one. But don't worry, I will turn you into a capable thief yet." Turki was researching some magical item, and he needed help doing it. The barback had agreed to fetch books and papers from all over the town in exchange for lessons on thievery. Turki had survived a number of encounters, and the barback was hoping to learn as much as he can. What Turki did not know, was that the barback was also being paid to keep tabs on Turki by Custom Officer Toland, the local thieves guild master. There had been a report of some pick pocketing at "Le Dragoon", Udro's only respectable restaurant. Toland was okay with stealing, but he wanted to make sure Turki didn't go overboard and get the upper crust into a riot. Working for Turki was a useful cover, and he might as well get double pay as cover. "I take it the archivist was happy to get the gold that I owed him." "He was, though his normal scowl returned once I gave him more IOUs for this latest batch. Any luck?" "Yes I think I have found the passage I was looking for that details the frame, but damn me, if it isn't written in Goblish. I am guessing I am not lucky enough that you speak it, do you?" "No," the barback replied. Turki instinctively started fidgeting with a crude little carving, that he recently added to his necklace. Turki's wood-carving skill leaved a lot to be desired, but it was easy to recognize the clovers of Tymora, the goddess of luck. "Master Turki? I speak goblin!" The barback and Turki turns around to see Lightfoot, the little halfling minstrel standing their sheepishly. For a moment the barback considers whether this was an intervention of Tymora, but dismisses it as mere coincidence. Turki smiles broadly, "Is that true master minstrel? Would you care to translate?" "I would gladly do so, Master Turki. But perhaps you could give me the details of your latest adventure? Master Jonath has been pressuring me for new songs" Turki stares hard at the halfling for minute. "Very well, Lightfoot. Though I am not sure how great a story it will be since mostly we ran away, but a deal is a deal. We journeyed due south to a small forest. We were looking for black wood, to build out some magical bows. We encountered bush creatures at the edge of the forest, as well as walking trees. We managed to fell them, though we quickly learned that the trees were resistant to all piercing weapons. Fire worked well, but its difficult to set them alight. We journeyed into the forest and slew more of the creatures, though since two of us relied on bows we found it more and more difficult. We finally encountered a path, one that led to a broken down building one to a grove. We ventured to the grove and found many bush creatures and trees worshipping an evil black tree. We decided that we were perhaps not well equipped to fight them. We instead journeyed to the fallen building. We slew the bush creatures and trees surrounding the basement. We then descended into a trap door that we found." Turki takes a moment to pause and take a drink from his mug of ale. Lightfoot is quickly writing his notes on the one piece of paper he owned. "I was a little too...eager to loot. I charged forward to the supplies and was attacked by a Vampire of some type, though from what I can gather only a spawn-ling. It had an army of hands that attacked us. Without magical or silver weapons we could do little. It simply healed what little damage we could cause. It was all we could to do to escape. I was actually saved by Danno at the last minute who managed to quickly revive me when I fell as I was escaping. We ran to the Kobolds sanctuary in the south, but the damned Vampire chased us. We managed to scare it off with a volley, but it was quite close." Turki takes another long pull from his tankard. "I never thought I would say this, but I have been too greedy for my own good. And that was that. Will that do Master Lightfoot?" The halfling looks up to Turki, with a question on his mind. But the hard stare of Turki stops the halfling short. "Um...yes that will do sir," the halfling nervously replies. He shuffles over to the book and reads the passage. "An ingot of black iron can hold the goblin's sight..." "Perfect!" Turki interrupts. "I'm sure you have to...um...compose your song. You shouldn't waste anymore time with us." Turki scoots the little halfling away, and then turns to the next book back on the stack. "Next component then?" the barback asks with a sigh. "Next component," Turki replies with his nose deep into the next book. The barback stares at the pile of research materials and sighs loudly. He should have charged Toland twice the normal amount for this, the barback thinks to himself. << Thanks for the game guys. Always epic! >>

Recap 11/07/2015 <<Sorry for the delay, was seeing family this week and had little time>> The barback darts in between the many patrons gathered in the Rusty Spoke Tavern & Inn. There were thrice the number of normal patrons in the bar that night, as news spread that Turki had an announcement to make that night. That meant thrice the number of empty mugs to wash out and clean, and four times as many spills to clean up. The Inn had regularly become a hot spot of entertainment for Udro, after an adventurers had returned. Master Lightfoot, the inn's resident minstrel, had become quite adept at getting stories out of the local adventurers after returning from excursions into the wilds. He would quickly compose some new song with only a little embelleshment. The songs were never that good, but there was little entertainment in Udro and so it became the goto event. The Inn's staff were now accustomed to these events by now, and knew exactly what to expect. Master Jonath would bitterly complain about the smell the adventurers would return with and how many of them seem to be constantly bringing papers and books into the bar area, but he eagerly counted the coins on the nights of Lightfoot's new songs. Turki, Illoa, Sharaska, and some new Thunder Cleric, Alux, fresh off the boat had returned a couple of days ago. The barback had watched the cleric burst into the inn just 6 days ago, asking everyone around about giants. Apparently, his brother or something and he had been tracking them to here, in the Wilds of Udrus. Illoa had befriended the cleric immediately and dragged Turki and Sharaska off to the west. When they returned, they look tired, but surprisingly intact. Turki even came back with a smile and enough money to pay off all his IOU's and even pay in advance for his next week of research. The little minstrel had managed to get Alux just drunk enough to get the details out. He premiered a new song the following night about the great escape from a deadly Chimera's and trials by Stone Giants. Secret missions by the Centaurs, sent to kill their enemy the Gnolls. All of it was received with the usual fanfare, and normal crowd at attendance. But tonight the crowds were larger than normal. Turki had let known that any adventurers in town should meet at the inn. That there was important business to discuss that would concern them all. In practice there were less than a dozen active adventurers in Udro, but that didn't stop half the town from showing up, just for the spectacle. Every staff member of the inn was on hand to deal with the mass of humanoids. Thumper had already thrown out a dozen of the more unruly members. But unfortunately, the barback was the only the barback for the Inn. Well at least he could pinch a coin here and there while he did grabbed the cups. Turki walks down the stairs from his room above, and stops short. The barback turns to see Turki standing dumb-founded that word of this meeting had spread so far. The barback knew that Turki had begun to regret the stories that he initially told in his first days in Udro. He was a well known figure, which made his chosen profession of burglary that much more difficult. "I don't know what the hell you are all doing here," Turki yells over the crowd. "This is not supposed to be some type of public hearing." "We want to know what's going on?" yells a small halfling farmer in the back. "Yeah! After the scarecrows started attacking the town the last time, we need to be prepared!" yells a dwarven smith, recently arrived a day ago. "We all know the Wilds are dangerous!" Turki shouts over. "We have only begun to explore the lands to the West and already we have encountered complicated politics and dangerous beasts. We have encountered the Whipsers and Reserectuing goblins. That is our collective lot in life it seems. But if you are looking to me for some sort of grand saving plan, I am afraid I have none. For I am only a simple adventurer - " "You mean thief!!" shouts someone from the back. Though no one seemed eager to take credit for the shout. Turki takes a big sigh. "As an adventurer, I am looking for anyone who is willing travel south with me to a small forest. The plants there have grown evil, and I have seen with my own eyes, how they have sacrificed to some uber dark tree. I don't know what they are doing, but it is too close to our small town. A party of strong men and women equipped with slashing or bludgeoning weapons should be able to clear the forest. And a magic user! Whatever party visits that forest should bring a magic user and visit Arsten Blackcloak before journeying out. He has a ritual that could help cleanse the forest." Turki finishes his speech and the crowd is restless for a few minutes. "That's it?" says another human farmer in the back. "I thought that this was going to be a big announcement!" "You all really don't have that much to do this town, do you?" Turki says. He then turns and wanders back upstairs. The crowd begins to disperse and leave the Inn, many with annoyed looks on their faces. Well at least maybe they won't show up to the next Adventurers only meeting, the barback thinks to himself. <<Thanks for the game. This one is truly awesome!>>

Yulex went to his daily side job of smithing, working under Barney as usual. His mind fairly heavy as he mindlessly hammers at another long sword order. He ends up chipping the tip of the sword, and is startled by the sharp noise of the metal hitting the floor. Saying, "Ah, crap,"as he picks up the pieces and taking them all to the junk metal pile to try and salvage later. Barney turns to Yulex and gives a annoyed look. "That's the third one today, what's bothering ya?" Barney places a heated plate of armor in a barrel of water, and it makes a pillar of smoke and  a hissing noise. "Well, it's about my last venture into the wilds. Normally, I just get smacked, return a smack, the monster dies and I become the hero. But this time, it didn't went as smoothly as I would like. It started off the same as usual, me and the party don't know what to do so we decide to go explore again. Turns out that the Bugbears I've mentioned to you before are now getting aggressive, they've been taming Axe Beaks and a group of 4 attacked us on the plains to the south. During the fight, one of my new found companions had died, his name was Ogneslav. Thinking back on it, he did have a useful book about undead, but we left it, so that might be lying around somewhere, assuming no one has looted it already or none of the  animals have eaten his corpse. After the rough fight with me knocked out for bit, a Goliath walked up, you might know him, he works over at the orphanage." Barney strokes his beard,"You mean John? Yea I know him, he ordered a maul from me not too long ago. Speaking of which, how did it hold up?" Yulex shrugs,"Well it didn't break so its fine by my standards. Now its story time again. John walks up, he says he was there to "make big time plays", whatever that meant. We didn't share the spoils of the battle with him, but we let him tag along. Mainly due to us not wanting to bother with any more fighting without some rest. That's when we went to kobalds. On the way, there more Bugbears showed up. Two of my buddies lured them away, and we all were fine for the most part. We noticed that there were less kobalds when we got to their home. A few of them were not very happy with us due to us causing a war with the Bugbears, on top of the goblins and the trees from the nearby cursed forest. So, after that rest. We decided to go to the forest to try and clear the ritual in the forest. We went to the forest and came across a small source of "Ironwood". Sadly, we didn't have a axe, so we had to make do with my sword over there." Yulex points over the corner where his equipment was sitting. He found wearing 70 lbs of armor and weapons was uncomfortable when its hot. "We figured it would be quick and quiet. The plan was to go in and out. Turns out cutting down a tree is loud and time consuming. We didn't have anyone on watch so a group of 8 or so goblins got the jump on us and took out one of my buddies. A few goblins took out John. I ended up taking 25 arrows in the end of it. Just as we were on the last 2 goblins, one of them walked over to the water and a undead ogre rose up. I was on my last legs already, but it turns out so was my last companion, because the undead just slammed him and he was out. I had to do a loop de loop, and get my warlock friends magic rock. I rubbed it on him and he was up and he managed to also get my druid buddy. they did most of the work against him, honestly. All I did was poke and javelin him. After that mess we got 4 ironwood planks and split it among us. We walked back to town bloodied and hurt, which was why I was late to work today." Yulex points to the various slash marks on his human arm and back. He picked up the cooled metal plate that Barnaby worked on."Nice job on this by the way. I'm taking a break." Yulex walked out and proceeded to go to the farm lands and tip over the cow that kicked him weeks ago.

<<Recap 11/13/2015: Sorry for the delay in this. But here it is. Again thanks for this epic game.>> The barback sits quietly in the plushy chair next to the fire. A cool rag dripping water sits on his brow, while a steaming bowl of the cook's soup sits in his lap. He takes a sip of the hot soup and then put up his feet by the fire. He was the last one to get the stupid flu. No one was happy with the undead that had suddenly begun attacking people outside the town, but it was even worse to discover that their corpses also brought a nasty flu with them. The flu had spread quickly through the town, but hit the Rusty Spoke particularly hard. So many adventurers had become bedridden, that the last group to head out with only a group of three instead of the standard 4. That was a week ago. The barback had thought he had dodged a bullet. He had been careful to avoid touching their clothes and had washed his hands repeatedly, and had not shown any symptoms. But last night the barback started to feel the fever, and Master Jonath had put him straight to bed. Maybe that radical germ theory book that he read was poppycock as Master Jonath claimed it was. A good nights rest and he was feeling a little bit better. The barback had decided that the fire might help his fever. "You're in my seat." The barback looks up to see Turki standing over him. Fresh cuts and bruises cover the thief's face. "I didn't think you would mind," the barback starts to get up. "No stay seated. Besides if that new germ theory is to be believed, I should probably burn that chair after you get better." "What is it with you and fire? From what I understand, you keep trying to set things on fire." Turki sits down in the chair opposite the sick barback. "Maybe you're right. I just tried to burn a bunch of harpies. Didn't work too well." "If its time for our lesson, I'm not sure how good a student I am going to be today." "We can do a different lesson today. I'll tell you of my recent journey to the north and you can tell me what I did wrong." "I'm all ears." "Alux, and Altevier and I headed north to track down the Gnolls. Altevier seemed eager to face them for some reason. We traveled north to Fort Boulder Breaker, and then headed North East. We encoutered the usual undead as we traveled but paid very little mind them after we slaughtered. "When we reached the Krolls land we encountered a land shark. In one strike it nearly killed me, and destroyed Alux's arm. We ran as fast as we could. Fearing ourselves overmatched in these lands, we returned to the area near Fort Boulderbreak. "We discovered a small cabin with a fletcher named Clay (B2). He claimed to be a simple hunter, but I saw the pelts of the creature he hunteed. He is definitely more than he seems, but he never attacked us. "He advised us of some harpies to the east and we thought we might clear out their nest. We tracked them to their nest, where I tried to set their nest on fire. That did not work as planned, and we were all caught in their magic song. Altier and I both walked off a cliff and into the sea before we were able to shake their spell. Alux and I fell both, but Altier was able to restore us. We didn't wipe them out, but we were able to collect what loot we could from the nest. "We just returned, and for all of our troubles we only got enough to restore Altevier's arm. So what were my mistakes?" "You mean besides your overenthusiastic use of fire at any chance?" the barback smirked. "Yes besides that." "You went without a fourth someone equipped to absorb the damage." "Good. Anything else?" "You journeyed too far north, woefully unprepared to face the stronger dangers." "All obvious lessons." The barback thinks for a moment. "You did not discover Clay's true identity." "Exactly. Unknown players are always the most dangerous. A beast or a monster is easier to fight because you know its objectives. But an unknown player will make moves that you cannot anticipate." The barback sips his soup, and Turki stares into the fire. Finally the barback speaks, "The black knight, a myserteous fletcher, and the jackal toll taker. That is a lot of unknown parties." "Yes. Too much is unknown. We must all move carefully."

<<Recap 11/18/2015>> <<Shit got real in the last session. I recommend giving this a quick read!  Thanks for the epic game so far.>> The bar is eerily quiet. The undead fever had since passed, but many patrons had not yet returned. Those few dedicated regulars who had braved the sickness, were not present this night either. Rumors had spread through the town that the Rusty Spoke was now cursed. Most people would laugh about the curse in company, but in private they found every excuse possible to not visit the bar. Ten days ago, a white-eyed wizard named Sirik had showed up, fresh off the boat with a small number of supplies and just a couple of new settlers. The wizard heard the now familiar refrain that there was no real money to be made here in Udro, and the best thing to do was to adventure. He met with Sharaska who was looking to make another foray into the wilds, and brought Evie and Turki with them out. All of this was normal for Udro, and none of the staff at the Inn thought anything of it. Then four days ago, the trouble began. Ingrid had gone to clean the rooms of adventurers early in the morning, as was her normal routine. When she had entered Sharaska's room, she let out a piercing scream. The barback, mopping the bar on the floor below, pulled the small dagger from his boot and ran upstairs. When he reached the room, he found the old maid doubled over breathing hard, with Sharaska consoling her and some unknown man carry the equipment of a paladin. "What?!? Where did you come from and who is this?" the barback asked. "We have been...returned," said Sharaska, and avoiding eye contact with the barbark. "What...is going...on?" shouted Master Jonath, huffing to catch his breath after his rush up the stairs. Thumper was close behind him, with a large club ready to go. Master Jonath finally regained his breath and stepped into the room. "Ah, Sharaska, I see you have returned. Ingrid why are you screaming? It's only Sharaska, you know him well," spoke Master Jonath. "I am sorry sir I had not expected to see them. I had actually cleaned the room not 30 minutes ago, and was only returning to clean the linens. Master Sharaska was not in the room previously, and I was merely startled to suddenly find him in the room." Thumper spoke with graveled voice, "Master Sharaska, how did you enter the inn? I have been watching the door all morning and no one entered." Sharaska looked nervously between the group, not speaking a word. Master Jonath looked between Sharaska and the strange paladin, and made the wrong guest. "Perhaps Master Sharaska wishes to keep his privacy. Let us not bother him or his gentleman caller anymore. Though in the future please avoid using the window to get into your room. You are welcome to bring any guest you choose to your room. No reason to feel any shame here." Sharaska looked confused for a moment, and then upon realizing the implication almost spoke to deny it, but then remained silent. Master Jonath, Ingrid, and Thumper all turned to leave the room. The barback stayed for a moment, sensing that something was wrong. There was no way that Sharaska and this new adventurer could have snuck into the inn, so how did they get in? And where was Turki and Evie? No something was off. Sharaska looked at the barback for a moment and smiled weakly, and then closed the door. Business returned to normal at the Inn, but the previous events gnawed at the barback. He kept a close eye on Sharaska and the newcomer, a young paladin named Kyros. Kryos had gotten a separate room, and both had taken odd jobs to pay for their lodgings, but they met everynight at the bar and talked quietly and kept to themselves. Then just yesterday, around the dead hour of 1 in the afternoon, Turki and Evie limped in through the door. Both had the dead eye look, that spoke of great loss. The barback had seen that look on Illoa's eyes many times, and guessed that the most recent party had suffered losses. Turki and Evie both went straight to the bar and purchased two ales. The barback went quickly up to Turki to discuss the sudden return of Sharaska and Kyros just three days earlier. Turki raised his glass, "Syrik, Kyros, and Sharaska. They fought bravely." "May the gods honor their accomplishments, and grant them peace in death," Evie replied. And then both downed their ales. The barback stared in confusion for a moment, "Um, what are you talking about?" Turki turned to regard the barback. Sadness seemed to spill out of his eyes. "We lost three fellows on this journey. We went hunting for the Eten, but he attacked us while we were dealing with some Eagles. The Eten killed Syrik in a single blow, gutting the poor wizard with no chance to recover, and then ate his familiar as an insult to injury. We brought the giant down in vengeance. "We met a new Paladin who had made his way to Fort Boulder Breaker and was eager for adventure. His name was Kyros, and I had barely gotten to know him. We went hunting for the source of the undead attacks and discovered a graveyard at the foothills just a little south east of the cleared fire temple. The graveyard had two small stone structure, and a staircase hidden in a coffin in one of them. "We killed the zombies in the graveyard, and journeyed below. Making quick work of the zombies we found, we felt confident that we could clear the crypt. But we encountered Wrights, and with few magic weapons we were soon outclassed. We fought as well as we could but both Sharaska and Kryos went down. Evie unable to face the foes had to run. I poured my last health potion down Sharaska's throat and ran myself. I hoped that he would be close behind me as I escaped out of the crypt. But neither did. I only hope that I can find their corpses soon before they are raised as undead creatures to attack us. They deserve more than that." Turki stared into his empty glass. The barback was entirely confused. "What are you talking about?" the barback answered. "Sharaska and Kyros are here." "I am not in the mood for foolery, boy. One should not make jokes about deceased battle brothers," Turki replied sternly. "I assure you Master Turki, I am not joking. They are here. They returned three days ago." Turki stared hard at the barback, and then, as if on cue, the front door opened and in walked both Sharaska and Kryos walked in. "I heard you returned," said Sharaska. Turki and Evie simply stare in utter shock. Dumbfounded they simply remained silent. "Let us move to the fire area, we have much to discuss, and we should do so in private." That was yesterday, and the stories had quickly spread. Sharaska and Kyros faced certain death at the hands of a vampire, but they had been saved by a mysterious stranger with a wide jakal like smile. They also now carried playing cards with them, which many regarded with the same fear as the coins carried by Illoa, Turki, and Danno. All of Udro was afraid. The barback finishes wiping the bar and looks up again to see the bar empty except for adventurers. Sharaska had called an adventurers only meeting at the bar that night. Two foolish new settlers had showed up, but quickly left after Sharaska froze their ale in their cups with his breath. Turki wanders down the stairs, and turns to walk to the back of the inn. The rest of the adventurers had all gathered around the fire and plush chairs. The barback rushes up to Turki, and falls in step with him. The barback hopes that his status as Turki's student will grant him access to the meeting. Turki stops and turns to the barback. "I'm sorry boy. You are a capable thief, but you are not ready quite yet. And this meeting is not for you." The barback turns and sulks away. His first plan to listen had failed. The barback wanders over to the back and enters the kitchen. He looks around, and sees that kitchen staff absent. They were probably attending to other duties knowing that there would be little activity that night. The barback slides a small loose brick from the wall. It doesn't leave a hole to peak through, but the pecuralites of the Inn's construction meant there was a tiny echo chamber. The barback had discovered it a month ago, and it had been handy for overhearing confidential conversations held in those plushy chairs that the adventurers seemed to love so much. The barback puts his ear to the hole and listens, "And he returned you both to your rooms here unharmed?" asked a voice that could only have been Yulex. "Yes. After we had promised him a great boon to spare our lives. And gave us these cards. He said that there we now owed him a great favor which he would collect from during an upcoming competition." The gravel sound of Sharaska's voice was unmistakable. "And your coin? Ikseliad's copper?" asked a stern woman's voice. Illoa for sure. "Gone. He said that he has repaid the debt owed to him." Sharaska replied. "He called himself, Alethar." spoke a males voice. Probably Kyros from the lilt. "I think we have a better idea of what may be occurring here," a voice that the barback would always recognize, Turki. "Previous to our battle with the Vampire, we encountered a Couatl who allowed us each to ask one question. I learned that Ikseliad is a traveler from the outer plains, and apparently one of three servants of another traveler. I am afraid, we have escaped being pawns of the nobles of the empire, to be pawns of other worldly creatures. Whatever competition is coming, we are going to be drawn in." The barback sits back for a moment. This was bad. He knew he had to report to Custom Officer Toland the nights events. But he was unsure what could be done. Udro was in critical danger.

The barback shifts the books from his right hand to the top of the stack he is carrying on his left hand. He grabs the handle with his right hand and opens the door to the Rusty Spoke Tavern and Inn. More and more adventurers were researching magical items, and the barback had turned it into a good business. He had books for three different items, and had gotten quite adept at balancing the many books while traveling. The barback walks into the empty bar, past the mostly empty bar, and walks to the back of the bar. He dumps the books onto the table, and grabs his arms sore from carrying such a heavy load. He smiles to himself. This last load should fetch at least 5 silvers. Since the attacks of the undead, the tree bushes, the goblins, and now the bugbears, no one felt like drinking much. So tips were few and far between right now. At least the research was keeping some money in his pocket. The barback turns back to see Turki sitting at the bar. He had been sitting there for a whole day since returning from the latest adventure. He walked straight into the inn, sat down at the bar, and started drinking. He hadn't even returned his adventuring gear to his room. None of the other adventurers who returned with him looked any happier, but at least they all returned, even Altiever who returned a day later looked somber as well. Turki didn't look particularly drunk, even though he had been drinking for quite a while. However, the barback however decided to take chance and see if he could get any information out of Turki. He could probably get a few extra coins from the Customs Officer for some new information. The barback slides into the seat next to Turki. Without looking up from his drink Turki says, "I applaud your sense of timing boy, but you will find that I am not drunk at all. Jonath has been watering my drinks for at least 5 hours." The barback remains silent for a moment, "It was worth a chance." "Ha! Enterprising at least," Turki signals Master Jonath for another drink. "Drink with me Master Barback. I feel like talking and you are the closest thing to a friend that I have in this place." Jonath brings another ale over and places in front of the barback. The inn master would have been uptight a month ago, but he seemed to relax a little with the adventuruers. Or maybe it was the body of his niece that had recently been returned. Turki nodded and slipped the coppers over. Turki lifts his mug, "To those taken from us." Jonath looks to Turki, nods his head in acknowledgement, and then returns to the back. "The wilds take too much from us," Turki continues. "When I arrived here I knew that this place would be tough. I had heard the stories, and I had seen the broken men and women on the streets when I got off the boat." Turki takes another drink from his watered down ale. "And its taken a lot from me. I have scars, wounds, and two cursed coins. I have lost my pride running from vampires, bug bears, and even dark goblins. I have watched fellow adventurers perish, and am under some crazy cosmic debt to some outsider. But I am used to living in the shadows, and feeding off the crumbs. I always manage to steal enough back, and I figured that I would find a way here. "But this place..." Turki stares into his drink for a moment. "We journeyed to the south east searching for a sword in cave, a water spirit had asked for it. We met a bronze dragon, named Mirroth (I11). A mercenary of a type, apparently the kobolds had previously hired it. He offered his services if we could pay his price, three chests full of treasure. It also asked us to kill a green dragon far to the north. We left the dragon, and sought for the cave, only to find that it was the lair of Mirroth. Stealing a sword from him seemed unreasonable, so we bargained for it. "At first I thought we would not be able to pay the price. But dragons have different values." Turki pauses, and then downs the rest of his drink. "I gave him the toy horse from my childhood, the last connection to my family. Alux gave him his mother's blanket, Kyros his legion's insignia, and Joeseph his dead wife's ring. For all this we got a magic sword. We used it to free the water spirit which turned out to be a Behir. We found 83 gold in the pool." Turki stares a moment more into his mug. "All of us traded our past, to free some monster and 83 gold." Turki stands up and grabs his gear, "The Wilds take too much from all of us." Turki walks upstairs back to his room, a sullen look still on his face.

Recap: 11/28/15 Finishing up the final adjustments to Sharaska's new armor, Illoa confers with him about the events of the past few days. “Things went well, surprisingly well, don't you think? Altevier got crippled again, but that was hardly surprising. Given some of the things we've seen, don't you sometimes wish you were blind too?” “The bugbears put up a vicious fight, but Alux proved himself again with his quick thinking and bringing in a fog cloud to block their javelin throwers. That battle could easily have gone very badly for us. Their leader is dead, and the kobolds have one less thing to complain about.” “Being able to stop by their home and pick up some crafting materials was good luck as well.” “Not bad. Not bad at all.” “Well, stay safe in that tournament or whatever it is. Fighting should never be someone's entertainment.” <<Bugbear cave cleared.>>

<<YAY!! Good job clearing out those bug bears.>>

Recap: 11/28/15 "If I remember correctly, the day started out with us...planning, we had little to no argument settling on what we wished to do." "We decided that we would head east towards the bugbears, and while looking for the bugbears it appears that they found us. A small party of Bugbears ambushed us, coming from two sides. We formed a circle and awaited for combat, and just like that...I blinked, I forgot to open my eyes as a mace hit me square in the face knocking me unconscious, that bugbear released the same anger that the spirits quelled. It let loose the ferocity held deep within, something that I fear to make a habit of. After the battle, I saw nothing but red. I slashed and ripped at the body's, leaving mangled bits of axe beak and bugbear everywhere. The taste of blood, nothing new...At least for me." "After the battle ended we decided to venture forth to a suitable location to set camp. It's almost as if...everything you knew was gone. All in but an instant, the trees, the mountains, and I can't bring myself to forget about the sky. All of it gone, never to be seen again." "I found a little buddy, he is a squirrel and he allows me to feel some sense of direction. I haven't given him a name yet but he seems to like me and guide me around, He makes noise warning me when I am making a bad step, the main reason why I haven't been tripping over rocks is this staff and this squirrel. He seems to know I need him, he might be sticking around for the free food supplied, or maybe we just found a new adventurer." <<I got an eye back, I miscalculated how much health I had. I was supposed to have a lot more health than that. One time thing but i'm grateful, gotta remember next time. My transformation's isn't the only HP I need to pay attention on.>>

<<Thanks everyone and especially Matt. Three hour battle, that came down to the wire. Epic! Daniel don't forget we got loot for your next character.>> "HUZZAH!" The cups are clinked together, and spills a large portion of ale onto the floor and table. The barback quickly runs to the table and starts mopping up the spill. The barback works quickly to clean the spill, as there were sure to be another in a few minutes from another hearty toast. A new tool maker had arrived in town a week ago, and had provided a new mop to Master Jonath as a complimentary gift while trying to drum up some new business. The barback thinks that Lady Tyra had decided to help him out during this latest celebration. It was only three days ago that Yulex, Altivier, Turki, and Alux had set out with grim determination, towards the goblin fort. Within the hour of them leaving, Illoa went after them, hoping to catch up in time and support them in their quest. Then just this morning Turki, Alux and Illoa returned, with various scars and brusies, and a large bag of loot. They all sat down at their table in the back near the fire. When Jonath had given them their ales, Illoa raised their first toast to fallen comrades. The Wilds had taken Yulex and Altivier. An hour later, Ambassador Agham wandered in through the front door. The barback had never seen him before, and only knew him by reputation. The ambassador had never been to the Rusty Spoke Tavern and Inn, and so was unfamiliar with the homey smell that was now a permanent part of the inn. He squinched his nose, and then walked over to the adventurers table in the back. He spoke briefly with Illoa, and then patted her on the back. He then walked up to Master Jonath, and told him to send him the bill for the adventurers drinks tonight. He then quickly left the bar, pinching his nose closed as he exited the bar. Rumors quickly circulated around Udrus, and a couple of hours later, the bar started to fill in with locals. Even the 'Expert' tradesman showed up and took their old table. Apparently the story of the Kobold's ambassador offer for free drinks to the adventurers, had morphed into free drinks for the whole town. Master Jonath had done little to disparage this fiction, and the barback imagined that many locals would be unhappily surprised at the end of the night to received the bill. "I wish you could have seen it!" says the drunken 'Expert' dwarf tradesman. "I could not believe that Yulex fought as long as he did." He was of course nowhere near the fight. The barback had seen this effect happen quite often. Locals would show up and coax a few details off the adventurers who were trying to drink in peace. As the locals got drunker, their recounts of the adventurers stories would turn into eye witness accounts. "From the beginning everything went wrong," the dwarf continues. "They snuck in and were about to ambush the goblins, when a tree suddenly started moving and attack them. Yulex rushed in and began swiping at the tree, with Alux at his side fighting. It was amazing, watching him climb the tree and take it down." "Don't forget about clever Altivier," said the dwarf's tall thin human companion. "Creating a lightning storm over the north bank and wiping out the acolytes and many of the goblin archers, and then changing into a badger to burrow into the ground and hide himself. Ha! I have never seen such cleverness." The tall thin human takes a large swig of his ale. "And that fog cloud fo Alux's. All of the adventurers were quivering in their boots when they saw that balista. Only Alux had the wisdom to create a fog cloud to obscure both the archers and the balista so they they could not shoot them down." The third companion, the shorter fat human suddenly wakes up. He always appeared to be passed out after his first drink. "Don't forget that Turki was there." "HA! Turki?!?!" the tall expert barks out. "What did he do? I admit it was smart to use poison arrows to take the goblins down quickly. But he was foolish enough to climb the tree without checking for the blade trap on the trunk. Even I could see it from my vantage point." The barback mopping nearby, wonders exactly what vantage point the tradesman was talking about. The floor of his house miles away? "You have to admit though that Illoa saved them all," the dwarf pipes in. "She appeared out of the mists when they were tangling with the fire elemental. It was her magic snake staff that finally took it down." "Now now," the tall human interrupts. "It was Alux's gale of cold air that kept the elemental from constantly setting everyone on fire. They would all have perished if not for that storm. And Altiveir called a giant stag to assist in putting down the elemental." "Illoa killed both the Thaumaturgist and the Elemental," the dwarf retorts. "And Yulex was the one who fought despite falling three times. Yulex was the one who held the goblin boss in single combat round after round while barely standing. Parrying and striking to keep the champion at bay. He only fell once the orc champion reached him and took him down." The tall man takes another pull from his ale, "Neither Yulex nor Illoa would not have survived if not for Alux and Altivier constantly reviving them." The short man sits up, "You all have to admit, that at the very end of the battle, Turki stepped up. Dashing over the bridges to take out the last goblin on the ballista and then to begin firing at the goblins turning their weapon against them." "He kept missing!" the tall man shouts. "True," the short fat man continues, "but he removed the threat. And at the very end, when all the other compatriots had fallen, and the orc champion and two goblins remained, Turki made three shots in the row to kill them as they dashed back to his position. The last shot he made with the goblin only 10 feet away charging to kill him." The tall man thinks for a moment. "I admit it. That was pretty cool." The barback finishes cleaning up the spill and walks away. No doubt the stories would get more elaborate and far-fetched as the night went on. He puts his mop back behind the bar, and walks up to the adventurers' table in the back. The three sit joking quietly, but all have a bit of sadness in their smiles. The Goblins were dead, and the alliance with the Kobolds seemed in more solid position with the elimination of the Bugbears previously. But the Wilds had claimed two more adventurers' lives. It would doubtless claim more.

Recap: 12/16/15 Strange smells and sounds emanate from Barney Greathall's forge. Freshly hammered black iron plates tempered in giant's blood are being fastened to a thick leather base using the ultra strong tendon of a recently slain bulette. Illoa pushes strands of her blonde hair out of her face and continues working with a determined look. “So Barney, can you believe that all of our weeks of work are almost at an end? I am still not sure how we got so lucky.” “When I went to the notice board last week, I found three newcomers there, Celus, Heinrich, and Zufella. They had heard a story of a large house in the mountains north of Boulderbreaker Bay so we decided to head there to see what it was.” “As usual around here, savage creatures attacked us once we left the patrolled area around the Fort. First a living bonfire almost burned us to death. Then, cruel fish men swarmed out of the water and tried to bite and stab us. Last, the beast I recognized from the stories, the one I had been looking for, burst from the ground and tried to eat us. It was the bulette. Only thanks to this new shield was I able to survive it. It yielded its hide, tendons, and meat to our knives.” “Finally we found the house, but it was not a house. It was the ruined monastery of an old order of paladins, the Crimson Dawn. The caretaker is a very powerful snake. She guards a library full of secrets, a shrine to Pelor, as well as training and sleeping rooms for the paladins. There was also a locked room for the long dead abbot.” “Speaking of the abbot, we found his dead body in a hidden basement, where he had trapped himself with an evil fiend. We were able to defeat the fiend and put the abbot to rest.” “The monastery is an important place. It has great strategic value. Celus swore an oath of service to Pelor, and I swore to help Celus defend the monastery. Maybe, if we can protect it, it will be the start of something new, a new place of our own here in this savage and brutal land of Udros.” Looking down at her completed work, a pair of darkly shimmering black steel gauntlets, Illoa sighs. “Now, I must find the magic to bring these to life.” &lt;&lt;Awesome game folks! Here's your Samuel Jackson reference, from Jackie Brown: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HKv6GQvyWW8" rel="nofollow">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HKv6GQvyWW8</a> and a trailer for The Killer, fyi: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYwhqo3u140" rel="nofollow">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYwhqo3u140</a> Containing 200% of the recommended daily allowance of gun violence.&gt;&gt;

"Lo and behold, the hunter has become the hunted." Herne looks on scornfully as the downtrodden Sharaska enters the glade where Herne sits. "No need to be dramatic, it happens to us hunters. It is our way of life. Those griffins (C11) were tough, and I made a bad call. We should have gone with culling the numbers of the cyclops." Herne stands from his throne, transforming into a beast of unimaginable proportions. Sharaska stares into the maw of Herne. "You do realize what will happen to your soul? Need I remind you the details of our contract?" Sharaska sighs, and responds with disdain. "Had I lived any longer, I'd have retired and become a blacksmith. These adventurers were ill equipped, no magic weapons at all. We had even found a forge (D12) where I could start my work." Sharaska thinks back on his life one last time, and enters the void.

Joseph stumbles into the tavern,clearly worse for wear and oddly enough with a red gem stuck in his forhead before collapsing into a stool by the bar and saying with a sigh,"Never before have i needed a drink more"

Session: 12/21/2015 "Come around men, and women. Lend your ears, for a story is about to be told!" Out of no where a crude image appears of Magie, Illoa, Turqui and Heinrich appear in the back of her. "I...think I need to work on that. Anyways! Lets move on through the story." The group appears to be walking through a forest with single frame walking animations. "Ignore that, well. The group fought a group of these primitive people who don't care much for dancing. I made my signature debut to dazzle these men but I guess it just made them miss. "Back to the story!" you hear aloud,&nbsp; "Fine, fine, fine."..."Seems you don't appreciate dancing either." Magie mutters under her breath. "Well anyways our heros slayed the primitive people thats that, two ran." "What sort of story is this lady, you suck." The figures behind her do a extremely fast paced battle, then it pans into Illoa being in a hole. and the people running away. "There ya happy? thats the boring bit, now back to my story. So our valiant heros stride into battle, Illoa riddled with dirt and gravel. Me looking ever so lovely...and the rest of us." The figures show Illoa falling in a hole several times while they make there travels through the forest. Suddenly a dragon appears from the forest they were hoping to set camp in. "Suddenly, a dragon appeared right from the forest we were hoping to set camp in...Did someone say that before? Deja vu...or I guess as Turqui would say. 'Your mother is a shaved yeti,'...moving on. The dragon sounded a bit like this." Magie clears her throat and tries her best to reproduce the word in draconian tongue. "pok, si mi plythu petranas tir ti ouith ve." she peeks around the room for any intrigued eyes. "Yeah I have no idea what it means either." The dragon then starts crying and then lunges at the group, you see Magie running away while Illoa is face first with the dragon and the rest of the group pursues the dragon. "Oh thats a little bit of a mix-up, sorry. It actually went this way." The image is changed, you suddenly see Magie's face ontop of Illoa's body while the rest of the group is running away. Magie's familiar Tobais the owl transforms into a mighty bronze dragon and goes after the green dragon. The group cheers on Magie as she does amazing feats and it results in the green dragon running away bloodied. "I'm just so amazing aren't I." Magie says while expecting a cheer. "We then took a rest as the party did some good running and they were tired." the bushes begin to rustle and the noise of a puddle being stepped on happens in the middle of the night. The group already badly harmed, they were assured this was their end. Four Ogres approach the group. "This is ridiculous, come on I just rolled this character." You hear coming from the figures. "Who said that!?, where is this coming from." said Magie perplexed on where the noise is coming from. It then shows the figures back to back, with Turqui in a tree spouting something about honoring Yulex. "FOR YULEX!" he chants. Under a barrage of blows and Magic, the ogres finally fall to their demise. "Now for the long awaited sleep." Magie says while holding back laughter. The figures show Illoa muttering in her sleep about her husband, Turqui attempting to run while sleeping on the floor and Heinrich..."scratching his...is he scratching his?" Magie says in disgust before the scene changes to day. "Morning arrived without any more conflict, the wilds have been merciful." Magie says while cheering. The figures show Illoa, Heinrich, Turqui and Magie in a huddle talking but the only words that happen are a series of 'blahs'. "Anywho, we went after the dragon, Illoa took the lead while we all hid in the shadows." The figures depict Illoa getting shot by a barrage of Crossbow Bolts, Then the fight rapidly starts to speed up. "Trust me that fight was too long for me to detail," Two green dragonborn soldiers covered with plated armor lay on the floor. "They had money, we wen't home. The End." &lt;&lt;Good session, guys. That was a crap ton of XP, the fights were relentless but we powered through it. Also "pok, si mi plythu petranas tir ti ouith ve." apparently means "Halt, I am weak please do not hurt me."&nbsp;according to the translator I used.&gt;&gt;

Turki sits in the corner watching the show with a smirk on his face. "This is far better than Master Lightfoot's songs! Magie, can you bring up the image of the dragon running away from us. That was quite funny to watch a baby dragon run!"

Magie with a smile on her face says "Anything for a fan!" The quality of the figures are enhanced as the projection is re-opened. The scene depicts a green dragon flying sniveling in snot, "Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry I don't want to eat you, I'm not even hungry!" The dragon shouts in common while fleeing the area.

Turki laughs at loud. Then notices his mug is empty. "Who wants to buy another drink for the discoverer of Greater Healing Potions?" &lt;&lt;Yes greater healing potions now available at the Glamwells! 80gp. Pick them up!!&gt;&gt;

A golden skinned owl flies into the tavern in a frenzy, its wings are flapping about quite rapidly. It scouts out for adventurers, searching for a particular one. It finally locates the Adventurer known as Callian. It is revealed that a note is within the owls talons, the note reads. "Callian, I know you're just learning how to control your powers but I have a lead. Near the griffon camp that was discovered there is a Stone, a magical stone. It makes you smarter, it should increase your reaction time when using your bladesong abilities making you harder to hit. Our fellow adventurers have died there as well, gather a group. Reclaim what is ours and hone your abilities." The owl starts to fade, with a look of acceptance. His mission was done, Tobais the Owl and Magie the Mage were no more. The note that once looked as if it was paper starts to fade away afterwards into dust. &lt;&lt;This was addressed towards Callian, the other bladesinger in the group as Magie's last words.&gt;&gt;

&lt;&lt;Thanks for the game, everyone and Matt. Even if we were really bad at this robbery bit, maybe we can come up with another target and we can try one more time. Also let me know how much the charm necklace I describe would cost. Any maybe I should buy a warehouse since I am now a flour baron.&gt;&gt; The Rusty Spoke Tavern and Inn was buzzing with activity, and Master Jonath was currently out by the docks. The barback, having just cleaned up yet another spill of ale by some patrons, runs back to the bar. Thumper, standing behind the bar, stares hard into a dusty old book, that seems to have had little use. A short thin lady with a hawkish nose stands opposite him on the bar looking rather impatient. "How hard is it make an Empirattan?" she asks with a bit of snark. Thumper looks up at the young lady and growls. The barback hops over the bar, and grabs a couple of bottles of liquors and starts to mix them together and adds a dash of pomegranate juice. The barback had no idea what he was doing, but with all deception it was the confidence that really sold the lie. He sets the drink down on the bar top, and looks towards the lady with the biggest smile he can muster. She flashes a flirty smile towards the barback. "Well at least someone here knows how to make a proper drink." She drops a few coins on the bar, grabs the drink, and turns and slowly walks away. "Soith," Thumper whispers as she walks away. He turns around to the back to inspect the cask of ale. "It's almost empty. I hope Master Jonath soon returns with a few more barrels. I'm tired of serving these elvish crap cocktails." "You are tired of serving the drinks period," the barback replies with a slight smile. "Master Jonath is quite good at finding extra goods. Besides this hubub should die down soon. Some new catastrophe will happen, or some new ally will be found. And then the only people who will care about the robbery will be the Imperial Trade Agents." "Not sure about that," Thumper replies. "Most of that stuff happens far from Udro. This the first time that its happened in town. Besides that was a very large fire." The front doors of the inn burst open with a loud thump. The three Expert Tradesman stand in the doorframe with their chest jutted out. The short fat one stands on his toes trying to make himself look taller. The patrons in the inn all hold their breath for a moment. The barback rolls his eyes, and&nbsp;Thumper grunts sneer through his Orcish nose. The young hawk-nose lady, who had ordered the Empirattan, steps forward to the three men and then turns to face the crowd. "Make way, make way!" she cries, as she leads the men through the crowd to their normal table. "This official meeting of the Citizens of Udro Committee to Expose the Real Truth of the Imperial Trader's Great Fire will now commence. Acting as the official heads of the commission and presiding over this meeting, is Lander Slock, Master Carpenter..." The tall thin man sits down into his chair. "...Delg Ungart, Master Smith..." The dwarf sits down in his chair. "and Pieron Piscar, Master Tailor." The last of the three, a human nearly as short as the dwarf attempts to sit down in his chair, but misses and falls on his ass. He quickly pulls himself up and sits in his chair, trying to ignore the quiet snickering coming from the crowd. The Citizens of Udro's Committee to Expose the Real Truth of the Imperial Trader's Great Fire had been meeting for the past two nights in the tavern. There was nothing official about the committee, who most just called the Truthers, it started four nights ago when the Expert Tradesman were having a very loud discussion about the origin of the fire. None of their opinions had any basis in facts or expertise. They simply just spoke louder than all the other patrons. The next night thrice the normal crowd showed up to join in the discussion, and then the night the "committee" was formed. Thumper had wanted to put the kabash on it instantly, but Master Jonath saw the business opportunity. Sure enough the inn grew overcrowded with patrons the following nights. They had quickly ran out of ale, and were selling anything with alcohol in it, while Master Jonath went to the docks to buy any casks of ale that might be left over. "Hearye Hearye, this commission is now in session," bellows Lander Slock. The barback thinks he looks even more pompus than last night. "Let us continue from the previous proceedings. We had just concluded that it was most likely not a simple heist pulled off by the idiot resident thief Turqui..." Once the local authorities had managed to help contain the fire of the trading house, they immediately headed direct to the Inn to question the town's resident thief adventurer who was also known as a bit of a pyromaniac. Turki was nowhere to be found. The staff had seen him leave that night with Naomi and Heinrich and had assumed they had gone on their normal adventures. Turqui and Hienrich appeared the next morning downstairs and ate their breakfast calmly. Naomi returned in short order and sat down to join them. And then they simply went out for some "shopping". They returned that afternoon with some rather large sacks of gold, and bought a rather nice meal from the cook. That evening a young local constable showed up to question Turqui, and almost immediately accused of him robbing the Imperial Trade Guild and then setting it on fire. Turqui stared at the man for a moment and then burst out laughing. He stated that the heist was so poorly planned and so idiotically executed that it was a joke to think that he had anything to do with it. A heist like that would take planning and time. It would have involved getting the thieves' guild involved, and possibly a man on the inside to get keys and such. And most importantly only an idiot would be stupid enough to rob the Imperial Trading company. The constable noted that the three had been in the store just the day before and had been acting rather suspiciously, and that Turqui had just gone shopping that very day. Turqui admitted that they were in the shop to spy but only on their inventory levels. Turqui had managed to invest in a trade ship bearing flour but wanted to make sure that inventory levels were low enough, before the ship came to port. As luck would have it, the Imperial Trading company was already low, and he was able to make a killing. Of course through this conversation Turqui was buying cups of ale for the young constable and had him so thoroughly confused, that the constable left quite convinced of Turqui's innocence and just a bit drunk as well. The barback wasn't sure what to make of the heist, but if Turqui had done it, perhaps he needed a new teacher. "So now let us return to the most probable of theories to consider. The Fairies!" Ah yes, the barback thought, the fairies. The most popular belief at the moment. It was quite a strange coincidence that just after the heist faries had been spotted regularly in town. The barback had even managed to capture one who had flown into a mug of ale. He knew very little elvish but he caught some words about the "Queen returning", and a "new dawn", before the damn thing turned invisible and slipped out of his hand. But what that could have to do with a heist he had no idea. The front doors suddenly opened, and in walked Turqui holding a couple of bags with the Glamwells' logo on it (Glomwell had been experimenting with something called 'plastic'). Turqui stops dead in his tracks for a moment, confused entirely by the spectacle in front of him. "Oh right...the committee," he says with a snort. He grabs his bags and makes for the stairs to the rooms above. The barback rushes over to Turqui to help him with bags, and to check out what he bought. He notices that Turqui's old string necklace has been replaced by a simple metal necklace, with three smaller links hanging down from it. On of the left is the crude statue of Lady Tyra that Turqui had long ago carved. The center is empty, presumably meant for the Toy Horse he was seeking to recover from the dragon, and on the right is a strange small black obsidian statuette in the shape of a fly. "I don't think I have ever seen that fly charm at the Glamwells'," the barback remarks. "Oh yes, I didn't get it there. It just appealed to me." Turqui replies without even looking down. "Where did you find such an ugly item?" "I found it...in a barrel of flour."

Hello, I recently joined up on this group and was part of Thursday's 1/14/16. My party was Orma (me), Illoa, Naomi, and Callion. Orma Jundar former mercenary and recent arrival to Udrus. Upon seeing a sign pointing him to the Rusty Spoke Tavern and the promise of gold he went on his merry way. Teaming up with Illoa, Callion, and Naomi (who had a very nice coat) the group sets out to finish off some Griffons for the purposes of Giant diplomacy.&nbsp; Making their way through the wilderness they find a mask shop run by a sullen and very stoic gnome. Orma reveals his talents as an amateur artist and offers sketches of a gnome enclave in return for an extremely lifelike Displacer Beast mask. The gnome accepts the mask as a down payment and asks for some kind of head to make a new mask out of. He also offers his backyard as a place to set camp as the area is fairly safe. The barbarians nearby happen to use his masks for their rituals. Orma offers to sketch a portrait of the gnome after learning about how he lost his home to the Gnolls&nbsp; *Cut to night time, the party is around a campfire, Skype call drops but the RP is unstoppable*&nbsp; Orma who had previously mentioned that he fought in the war reveals some of his mercenary past and offers to sketch the party at hand. Upon hearing that he fought for the empire Callion request Orma not include him in the sketch however Naomi does make sure to remind him to add the horse. Illoa warned Orma he would see things that he would want to unsee, but he must keep a record on his sketch pad regardless. Morning comes and the group meets with the Boss Giant and reevaluate the terms of the deal. They then continue down the mountains where they are accosted by furry smelly apes that are in no way worth drawing. Further in they encounter a mysterious armored man with a sword blocking a bridge. The ensuing battle marvels Orma as he witnesses how terrifying a magical goat could be however the armored man escapes and the party continues. They meet the cyclops and their giant yaks who points them towards the griffon's nest. Orma grabs a chunk of yak fur for paintbrushes and finds various frozen bugs for dyes on their way up the mountain. Upon reaching the nest Naomi attempts to treat with them by offering horsemeat. The griffons can not only speak but can haggle like he's a (out of character here) Pawn Stars master. Failing at diplomacy the party takes on the griffins and their gargoyle security. Naomi bravely face tanked half of the brood while the party attempted to chisel down one of the gargoyles. Eventually the griffons were slain but not without one griffon screaming "my hedge fund" upon death and Orma receiving a scar across his neck. The party is victorious with Orma and Naomi claiming griffon eggs, Callion claiming an ion stone of intellect, and evidence of insider trading on the Griffon's company was set ablaze. On the way back they obtain giants blood and a giant gold coin from the Boss giant and Orma pays his debt to the mask salesmen who places a mysterious mark on his mask. Hope I covered all the key points and that I can have more fun sessions like that in the future.

Hello I'll be writing the recap for the Tuesday 1/19/16 session. The party was Turqui, Orma, Azazel, and Threynval. The Rusty Spoke in is fairly empty as Orma attempts to make new friends by buying people drinks. Turqui and Azazel are drawn by such a promise and set out to aid the local druid with an issue outside of town. Evil shrubbery and plants controlled by an extra evil tree and a vampire sighting have made the local woods quite dangerous. The three set out with a druidic ritual of cleansing in hand to clean some trees and hunt some vampires. Making camp outside the woods there is no consequence and the Azazel and Turqui talk of deals with mysterious arcane beings that they are beholden to and Orma makes the traditional campfire sketch.&nbsp; Upon awakening in the morning a well armored dwarf with grey hair known as Threynval meets with the party and lends his glaive to the cause. They quickly find the evil tree and shrubbery and begin the assault. Nearing the tree appears to cause negative mental effects and the evil shrubbery is fairly difficult to kill however the group emerges victorious and performs the ritual.&nbsp; Completing the ritual doesn't appear to cleanse the tree but the evil emanating is clearly lessened and so the party moves on to their next target, a vampire taking refuge in a ruined tower. Upon entering the dark basement of the tower the party is set upon by a cadre of shadowy hounds and a shadowy demon of some sort. The fight is long and hard and Turqui and Azazel are almost completely drained of strength. Threynval is knocked unconscious and later healed by Orma. Thankfully the fight ends with no casualties and the shadowy beings are slain. The vampire that was taking residence there appeared to have vacated the tower leaving nothing behind besides broken barrels and wood. Leaving the forest and returning to town has the group rewarded for their exploits and the hearty thanks for the local druid and town leadership.&nbsp;

&lt;&lt; Wanted to add a little bit about our favorite Lord. Thanks for the Game guys! Always enjoyable. &gt;&gt; The barback stares as the old Druid exits the Inn with Knight Jericho. No one in the entire inn could move an inch. Not Thumper, sitting on a stool by the entrace, nor the 'Expert Tradesman' sitting at their normal table who ceased their normal discussion of the Great Fire. Not even Master Jonath, who stared with his jaw wide open as he overfilled a mug of ale so much that at least half an ounce now spilled on the floor. Even Turki look somewhat mystified by the whole event. Arsten Blackcloak had come to congratulate Orma, Azazel, Threynval, and Turki for clearing out the undead tree forest. They had apprently prevented "great evil from being released on the land" or something like that. And he had somehow conjoled Knight Jericho into giving them a reward, which was by itself was impressive. What was more impressive is that he gave it to a group of adventurers that included Turki. No one in the Inn could believe it. The world had simply gone mad. Once the door swings shut, a moment passes in silence. And then the front door swings open again, and a troop from Lord Ivarson walks into the inn and sits down at the bar. "Never in my life," he mutters to himself. "Master Innkeeper, I need a stiff drink. The world has gone mad and I need something special to make sense of it." "Why? What's the matter?" asks Jonath. "Lord Bill Ivanson has been arrested for the Great Fire Caper," the guard replies. "Well," Turki says, "this is my lucky day!"

Session: 01/23/2016 &lt;&lt; Really good session guys. I can't wait until we are all strong enough to go after that dragon. &gt;&gt; The barback takes a deep breath, and steadies his hand. Using the long pick as a pivot on the inner bridge of the googles, he uses the pliers to stretch the eagle's lens ever so slightly. His eyes look to the edge of the left eye socket, his goal an inch and half away. After a moment, the lens begins to resists, and then starts to slightly warp. Sensing the distortion, he stops the movement and slowly releases the tension on the pliers. The lens returns to its normal shape. Turki breathes out a big sigh. "You're right," he speaks quietly, "we need a third pair of hands." Turki pulls back his own tools, a pick and pliers ready to attach an adhesive compound that Blackcload and Glimwell had developed at Turki's request. They both sit back in their chairs in the tiny little store room where they had been working for the past six hours. This was the most difficult part of building the Googles of Night. The frame was already constructed of black iron, and had been wrapped in the alligator leather. The lenses from the eagle's eyes now had to be stretched over the frames without be distorting the shape. Hence the need to abort this, their third attempt at this step. "Who can we get to help us?" Turki asks. "You know who," the barback replies. "No! Not him. Anybody but him." "He's the only one who hands have enough dexterity for this. He plays the lute all day, so his fingers would be nimble enough for this work." "What about Torland? I am sure he is trained enough with a lock pick to assist in this?" "Torland's worked the cold docks too long, and his hands now shake." Turki breathes out another large sigh. "Very well, go get him." The barback stands up and heads into the main common room area. It was early in the morning, so Master Lightfoot would be sitting by the fireplace practicing. The barback understood Turki's reluctance in employing the help of halfling minstrel. He would not require monetary payment, but a new story that he could transform into a song. The whole's town attention was directed to the Great Fire Caper, especially with the arrest of Lord Ivanson. The last thing Turki would want is for any attention to be diverted back to him. But there was nothing for it. They needed his help to finish the googles. The barback spots Lightfoot sitting in the large plush chair, strumming lazily on his lute. The rest of room completely empty, except for the Expert Tradesman who were now discussing how Lord Ivanson had conspired with the Fairies to rob the Imperial Trade Guild, and then planned to use the money to bribe the Giants to join in a new civil war against the Empire (Turki slipped that rumor into the Truther's meeting the night prior). The barback motions to Master Lightfoot to follow him, and the halfling quickly follows. The halfling knew exactly why he had been summoned. He had helped translate the instructions for the assembly of the googles. He knew they were working on it in the back, because they needed the quiet. He knew that attaching the lenses would be the most difficult part, and he knew he was the one of the few in Udro who had hands skilled enough to assist. He was going to get a good story out of this one. "Hello, Master Turki" says Lightfoot, through a large grin. "Yes, Master minstrel, I agree to your price: a new story of our adventures in the wilds. But only after we complete the work." Turki spoke without looking up. "Very good, sir. Let's get started." The three settle down to work. An hour passes, and all three slump back into their chairs. Sweating and exhausted, all three have large smiles on their faces. The lenses were attached without warping. There was more work to be done on it, the outer case had to be laid over the frame to secure the lenses and then rewrapped in the remaining leather, the large diamond had to be attached, and then Turki would have to journey to get it enchanted. But that was all relatively easy compared to the work they had just completed. "So..." Lightfoot begins after another minute of silent recovery. "My story?" "Yes, yes, Master Lightfoot, I owe you a story," Turki replies. Turki shifts to sit up properly in his chair. "Alright. Our adventure began at Fort Boulder Breaker. Orma our resident Eldritch Knight, Azazel the unwilling Warlock, Brenna our godsent life cleric, and I set out to hunt down a land shark -" "Um, pardon me," Lightfoot interrupts. "But I already know this story." "What!?!" Turki replies incredulously. "Yes Master Orma told me all of that already." "He did?" "Yes the four of you set out to slay a landshark, first taking a detour to visit Dob, the Gnome Mask maker." "Did he tell you about the fight in the mountains passage?" "You mean where you fought the Gith over the pit. The warrior and his two apprentences who all were able to use mist to disappear and reappear whereever they desired. And how one apprentance ran, one was killed, and the master fleed only after almost being killed again but swearing in anger as he did." Turki is taken back a moment. "Well did he tell you about our chance encounter with the Green Dragon?" "From what I understand you were all simply lost because you gave the wrong directions and headed west instead of north." "Now wait a minute Brenna was leading the party..." "Right the two of you argued a great deal about that, right until the moment you stumbled upon the Green Dragon's lair. You managed to kill the two half-breed dragons guarding the entrance, but the green dragon emerged and let out a great bellow to scare you all away, including your Giant Black Fly mount, which means its debut went rather poorly." "Um okay, yeah that was not great. But did he tell you about the alli-" "The alligator that you completely missed on your watch. It came up from the river, bit you, and almost dragged you back into the river..." "Well to be fair it was really dark, and that alligator was quite stealthy..." "It knocked you out twice, and your allies had to save you, including a brilliant use of the lightning lasso by Orma. In fact the only thing you did was kick the alligator in the head after it was dead. And then you all retreated home, never even facing the landshark at all." "Ah...yes. But only after we realized that the alligator's skin would suit our purposes...but yes we ran." Turki replies. Master Lightfoot pauses for a moment to allow Turki to recover his pride. "Well Master thief -" "Adventurer," the barback and Turki both say at the same time. Turki had made the correct so many times, that the entire staff had gotten in the habit of doing it with him. "My apologies, Master Adventurer," Lightfoot continues. "You still owe me a story." Turki stares at the halfling minstrel for a moment. "What did you give Orma to get such a story?" "I allowed him to sketch me." Turki drops his head forward and lets out an audible sigh. "He is not the best negotiator. Very well, Master Lightfoot, you seem to have me in a corner. Did Orma tell you of the Fairy Princess?" "The Fairy Princess?" Master Lightfoot shouts, sitting straight up his eyes alight with wonder. The barback has similar interest in this story, though he did much better to disguise his interest. "I take it by your reaction, he did not," Turki replies with a smile. He leans back into the chair, feeling in the more comfortable position of negotiating power. "I will tell you this story. But this story has just begun, and you cannot tell it until its complete. Agreed?" The minstrel nods, barely able to contain his glee to hear more about the creatures that only had just begun to appear on the outskirts of the town. The barback also knew the importance of this information, and believes he can peddle it to Torland for a nice fee. "To the northwest of town, just north of the mountains of the old fire worshippers den, is her domain. She was recently freed during the Great Fire Caper, though of course the two events are completely unrelated. However she was freed, she remains greatful to the adventurers of Udro. And she has given us another quest: recover her crown. She believes that the same Dwarven Mage who imprisoned her, sent her crown to his king. His lands are more than a hundred miles to the south across a great desert." "But how will you get there?" the minstrel asks. "The unicorn in the grove can teleport us to another fairy grove near the castle. It should make for much quicker travel. Now I promise Minstrel to tell you every detail as we uncover more, but you cannot sing your song until we have completed this quest." The minstrel nods in agreement. "I will of course, but I must begin writing some of the verses immediately." And then he launches out of his chair and heads into the common room. Within a moment, Turki and the barbcak can hear the minstrel strumming away quite furiously. "I am confused," the barback speaks. "I thought the little fairy I trapped spoke of a Queen." "That is because your Elvish is poor. When you add 'ee' to the end of a word it makes it diminutive. The diminuitive of 'queen' is 'princess'." Turki gathers up the materials. "Now I must head out, I have to visit wood workers near the port. I have a new bow to construct as well. Oh and perhaps you should give some negotiating lessons to Orma. Why in the world would he want to paint that silly little minstrel?" Turki heads out the back of the inn.

Horven walks into the inn, clearly the worse for wear. His clothes are soaked in blood still, while his armor bears the scratches and marks of much fighting. His left arm is in a makeshift sling, while his trademark rapier is nowhere to be seen. The bar goes quiet as he walks in, but quickly starts up again (adventurers are clearly becoming something of a known sight here). He sits at the bar, and somehow cheerfully, calls to the barkeep, "A pint of your finest ale, if you would, bartender!" The barkeep grunts and passes him a drink after some delay, which he repays with a handful of coppers.&nbsp; The young halfling minstrel, Lightfoot, approaches him with an excited look on his face. He's learned what newly-blooded adventurers look like, and he's eager to turn this one's story into a song. Horven eyes him suspiciously as he approaches, and says, before the halfling can speak, "You're a minstrel, aren't you? Pah. I should have known this town lacked for the sweet touch of a true artist, with the way its inhabitants slump about aimlessly." Downing his ale in a single swig and casually ignoring the barkeep's black look, he continues. "Let me show you how 'tis done." Walking over to the middle of the common room, he slides a flute out of a loop on his belt, and begins to play. Some of the patrons go quiet, hearing a new musical voice in the tavern.&nbsp; After a small instrumental intro--played quite impressively given the fact that he has only one working arm--he takes the flute from his lips and begins to speak melodically, in a manner similar to the sprechgesang of the eastern reaches of the Empire. "Oh, 'tis a sad tale I bear! From the great mainland Came a young man Strong, and without a care.&nbsp; Horven was his name Barding was his trade Adventure touched his soul and sang A tune of gold and fame.&nbsp; He joined a varied cast Of knight, cleric, warlock, and blade And off they set into the lands of Udrus His joy it would not last.&nbsp; (Instrumental interlude) Their adventures began great! A terrible landshark did them accost It was slain by brave Horven with his rapier Oh, gory was its fate Traveling north into the frozen lands They found two trolls Barbarians, spider-worshippers He stuck his sword right in their glands! But now the tragedy, it will come, Betray'd in sleep by lizardfolk They fought bravely and mightily But poor Horven, was struck right down onto his bum! (Another instrumental interlude) A lizardman (here a boo, the crowd being quite tolerant and politically correct) gouged his arm His life, it was undone For no longer could he play the lute With guile, skill, and charm So poor Horven, scarred and beaten He came back to this town Bought himself a flute and darts And vowed to never battle with sword against any cretin So now he plays the flute and sings I suppose that will be fine It is better than being dead, for certain For him, the bell has not finished its rings (Final instrumental interlude)" Clearly feeling much more cheery, Horven stood, and, 'holstering' his flute, as it were, strode back towards the halfling, ignoring the scattered applause and sighs of relief that accompanied the end of his performance. Patting Master Lightfoot on the head, he turned back to the bar and ordered another drink, then proceeded to get happily wasted, as, at this point, he was sure he deserved.&nbsp;

&lt;&lt; Sweet! I love adding more to our little inn. &gt;&gt;

Session: 01/30/2016 Brenna finishes preparation for the funeral on the outskirts of town, when she spots in the distance a figure, limping towards town. "Orma, someone's out there. We should help." Brenna, Orma, and Azazel stride towards the figure. Orma realizes first who it is, their "fallen" comrade. "Naomi! How?" Orma and Brenna running over, Brenna jumping to give Naomi a hug. "How'd you survive? What miracle brought you back? How'd you survive the vampire?" Naomi shoves Brenna and limps past with her makeshift crutch. Naomi's broken stride brings her to Azazel, as Orma and Brenna catch up "I need gold. To fix this." Naomi raises her crutch and plants it firmly back into the ground, the other hand held out expectantly. Orma, Azazel, and Brenna quickly give her gold, with sullen looks to Naomi. As Naomi strides of quickly without another word, Brenna turns to the group. "We need to make this up to her. We left her for dead, when she came to save us from those displacer beasts. I'm going to make this right." Orma replies, "We shouldn't have left her, not like that. Let's go remove the funeral arrangements." Brenna nods and walks back to the grave, thinking about how to cleanse this wrong.

Session: 02/02/2016 The bar was hustling and bustling far more than usual, as today was a triumphant day for Brenna and her fellow adventurers. Turki was recounting the tale to others as Horven played a rhythmic and upbeat tune with his drum. Brenna, Naomi, and Alux were sitting around the table, drinking to the health of each other and to the patrons of the tavern. Brenna stands on a chair and raises her mug. "I'd like to propose a toast, to the valiant Naomi, who never backed down to the green dragon's might. To Turki's cunning mind, who kept the pressure on the dragon. To Horven, who raised morale in the midst of terror. And to Alux, who's thunderous might brought the dragon down!" Horven raised his glass, "Here, here!" The patrons of the bar stood and cheered, and the drinks were poured. Even Naomi warmed up a little and cracked a smile. Brenna, pleased with the day's adventure, drinked with her friends and enjoyed the night. The next morning, Brenna searched for Orma, finding him sketching an oddly shaped tree. "Good morning Orma!" Orma looked up from his sketch, frowning. "Ah, Brenna. How's it going?" Brenna eyes the sketch, tilting her head to make out its details. "Absolutely amazing! Do you by any chance know how to sculpt?"

((Aww, you beat me to it. Always good to see more people at the bar!))

&lt;&lt; You've gotta write that power ballad in here&gt;&gt;

&lt;&lt; Yeah write the power ballad. Just for the hell of it. I will write something else this weekend about it &gt;&gt;