King of the Stolen Lands

An Introduction Of Sorts
Booze, Women, and a Dwarf

I awake suddenly to a rapping at my door. I open my eyes, reeling from last nights bout of fun, I try to catch up with what was going on. “Sir Fellstorm,Sir Fellstorm, this is Argyle” said the innkeeper. The young red headed woman who had her head resting on my chest looks up at me and says “What the hell is his problem, waking us up this early?” I peel her off of me and stumble my way to the door. “I have no idea lass but we shall find out” I reply back as I open the door.
Argyle the innkeeper was a short, black-haired impish fellow who seemed more irritated than usual. “There is a courier down da stairs who has a letter for you. Da basterd refuses to just leave it and is complaining he needs to see you”. I turn away from the door and begin to put on some clothes that is more presentable in public. “Well tell him to hold on, I will be right down.” “Oh and you dear, you just go back to bed, you had a long night“ I reassuringly tell the red headed woman in my bed. She just smiles, shrugs and turns over in the bed to resume her rest.
I make my way down the stairs and immediately noticed the courier. It was not him that stood out, it was the envelope he held, as it bore the crest of House Garress . “So your Sir Cedric Fellstorm I presume?” the courier eyed suspiciously at me. “Aye that be me” as I held out my hand towards him. He passed me the envelope, which inside held two letters. The first of which was a letter from my father saying that I needed to represent the family and the House in a most important task. “I was told to hand this to you, directly to you, and nobody else. Now you excuse me, I have to make my way back and leave” the courier said to me as reading over the second letter to which, sent me into a sudden urgency.
“Wait, your caravan. Does its route now go west? To Brindol perhaps?” I quickly say as the courier made his way to the door.
“Not directly to Brindol no but we are heading in the direction. Why?” he says back in a slight confusion. “I need to make haste this moment. Give me time to get ready and I will give you coin. I am in the need for travel. Please” I say with urgency to the courier while rereading the second letter. “Hmmph….fine. You have twenty minutes. Meet me outside the inn with your coin and make way westward.”
I hurry up the stairs, gathering my belongings into my trunk and begin to put on my gear. I turn the woman in bed over to kiss her on the head. “Sorry for the sudden goodbyes but this is urgent”. “So you always show a girl a good time and just leave in a hurry?” she said with a smile as she began to sit up in bed. “I usually don’t no. Though this…this is something I cannot ignore.” Family needs me. Could I actually be dreaming?

I left Ghalt in a hurry and after the courier, I took a few more carriages and caravans to finally end up in Brindol in the early morning. I finally reach the bustling city, which is a huge focal trading point. Everything and everyone has to come through Brindol at some point so making my way here was rather easy. After a small journey through the city, I have the caravan finally drop me off at a a luxurious, large house. One of my family’s many houses spread throughout that is. “Are you sure this is your house lad?” the caravan driver slurs at me. “Of course this is mine. I am a Fellstorm, these are family grounds” “Haha right uhuh, you a Fellstorm” the caravan driver barks. “If your a Fellstorm, then I mus be a Khyber Dragon” he then added. The caravan driver cracked the whip on the horses and rides off, with his mocking laugh still carrying in the distance. I really couldn’t be upset with his assessment. I traveled with such urgency, that I have been moving nonstop for days, not really having proper time to clean up anywhere at all.
I show up at the front of the grounds, greeted by the guards who thankfully remembered me. I made my way to the door only to be greeted by a very rude new house servent. She refused to let me in, for she did not know of me and said that I must have stole the armor that bore my family coat of arms which was in my trunk. I finally got the guards on my side to which she finally let me in. Upon finding out who I was said to be, her face flushed red with humiliation and she apologized nonstop. “Now if I was someone else, you think the guards would have let me pass?” I said with a slight agitated tone.
“Now if I saw a suspicious looking rapscallion like you at my door step, I would immediately think the same thing” said my young sister, walking down the front foyer stairs. “I mean the man before me cannot be my brother. I mean he never comes around to visit family at all” she says with a sly smile. “Now dear sister do you wish to insult me further or will you greet me” as I held out open arms towards her. She glided down the stairs, her dusty brown hair flowing behind her adding to the image of her hastily coming to hug me. My sister Thessie, number five of the seven Fellstorm children, squeezed me and cheered upon greeting me. “Brother it has been ages” she said happily. She backed away from me quickly and waved her hand in front of her face with a slight revolted expression. “Cedric, you reek of booze.” “I came as quickly as I could. I did not have time to cleanse myself. Besides there is nothing to do on a caravan but drink. Well….one of a few things anyways” I reply back with a hint of shame. “Which brings me to the second odor. You also smell of whores” as she shakes her head. “So you are quite familiar with that scent then?” I chuckle back.
She quickly hit me to the side the head in a playful manner while beginning to chuckle herself. “Seriously brother, how much penance do you pay to her divine host for your lewd, lustful actions”. “Oh I doubt she cares not for that. Besides I do many a good things so I think I am allowed the simple pleasures of flesh” I retort. “Also do not call those women whores. Just because they so easily lied down with me does not also mean that they easily lay down with others. Plus I believe I have made women firm believers in Dol Arrah. So, I assume I recruited her some faithful believers.” Thessie eyes me with a bemused look “You assume? What do you mean? You convinced them of Dol Arrah and her blessings?” “The only thing they would say at night with me was “”OH GOD YES!”” so I can only assume they were speaking of her hahahahaha” I roared. I began to keel over laughing, slapping my thigh, to which my sister hung her head, blushed, and tried to restrain her own laughter. After a good while, we calmed down with her still shaking her head at me. “
“You hound…” Thessie finally said. “Yes, sister, I sorely missed our banter” as I walked over to my trunk of belongings. “As did I brother, as did I.”

I had a bath made for me to quickly erode the stench of nonstop travel and finally cleaned up to look like a proper noble. My sister and I discussed the details of the letters extensively over lunch. I usually did not attend many family functions, unless it was my dad’s birthday. Otherwise I would only come in to visit if I was nearby. An edict was given to me to represent my family line and House but to also carry out an important quest for the kingdom. Fortunately I made it in time and would have a whole nights rest before I can present myself to the Sword Lords and meet the others who were had the same quest laid upon them. I caught up with my sister on events that transpired the past year and finally later that night, got a good nights sleep.
The next day, I had my armor polished and cleaned, my shield as well. The sword, especially my sword I made sure nobody touched, as I tended to that myself. While finishing up my cleaning detail I heard an argument down stairs. I heard the house servant being rude yet again to someone at the door. I made my way down the stairs steadily to hear the angry gruff tone pleading he was a family friend. While over hearing the argument I couldn’t help but notice how familiar the second voice was. The person’s accent gradually kept changing throughout the whole conversation, it was then it finally hit me. I know that funny speech problem from anywhere!
I tell the house servant to quickly let him in to which she turned to me in disbelief. “Again, if the guards let him through….that must mean he made clearance.” She put her head down, let the man in , closed the door, apologized thoroughly and left in a hurry. In stepped a dwarf who was four and a half feet tall, red matted hair on the top, braided hair in the back and slight blond highlights showing throughout.
“Damn help seems to be getting dumber and dumber” he grumbled as he stepped in. “Stoney dear friend!” as I made my way towards him.
I went over to hug him and pick him up, expressing how jubilant I was to see my old friend. “All right, all right, put meh down! Enough of the touchy stuff” he said with a cheery smile. “Jeez boy, been some time. You filled out” as he eyed me up and down. “Yes I did, And you remained just as short. How come you didn’t listen to your own advice of what you gave me. About alcohol stunting your growth” I reply with a slight grin. “Ha ha, really funny…ya ass” he shot back dryly. I then noticed something off about his appearance. I see his hands and arms are now completely scarred, horribly might I add. “Stone…what tragedy brought about….this” I remarked while getting a closer inspection at his scarred arms. “Bah, I rather not get into that story about now. Maybe later over a few drinks after we attend to this here meeting with the Sword Lords” he replied.
“Wait, your not here on personal matters? You are meeting with the Sword Lords as well?” I said.
“Well duh, apparently. Didn’t I just say so? I mean I thought you knew. I got the edict and I saw on there list with your name scribbled next to mine. It’s why I am here.” The letters I have received did not give me any names, it was merely a note by father and the Sword Lords, both instructing me to move promptly. Seemed strange to me in that moment. A friend, who I have not seen in years, gets called into service on the same quest as I? This seemed to be an act of fate to be sure, to complete a most superlative task.
I stayed a bit held back into my thoughts until Stonehands finally began to speak up again. “Either your having another one of your epiphanies or a major brain fart. Come on, lets not dawdle. We got folk that need be be catching up with.” I snap out of the sudden thought. “Right, right, well let me get suited up and we shall go.” I am now most curious who else has been set up on this undertaking with me. Most….interesting.

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Adra's Journal: Session 1
"There must be some mistake..."

Session 1(Reboot): “There must be some mistake…”

From the journal of Adra Kellen:

Therendor 24th,
Brindol, Rhestilor

I am still unsure of the madness that has infected the councilors at the Razmiran embassy. They have obviously been living too far from society and have reverted to a primitive state. Their decision to waste my services on an expedition to the so called Stolen Lands is not only an insult to my station, but a clear indication of their incompetence as administrators. I was sent to Razmiran to ensure that the disease of this uncultured, uncivilized, Flame forsaken land did not corrupt the young nation and more importantly the recently established missions and congregations. Instead, I am to venture into the Greenbelt and establish order under the banner of the Sword Lords of Rhestilor. While this directive is not contrary to the goals of the church I feel that if I were to establish order in an uncivilized region I should be carrying the banner of the Silver Flame by request of Flamekeep for the greater glory of the nation of Galifar rather than some backwater nation that shuns the Dragonmarked houses and the laws of greater nations.

I shall petition this assignment at the earliest possibility.


Therendor 24th,
Brindol, Rhestilor
Side Note

The others gathered before the Sword Lords were not what I expected. There were two followers of the Sovereign Host, a Paladin of Dol Arrah and a priest who seemed to represent the Unified Host. I was reassured that this land could produce atleast two individuals who seem dedicated to their faiths, even if they do not follow the Flame’s teachings. The other member of the group was a disfigured dwarf hailing from the Hammerfist Holds, I would imagine anyway. He attempted small talk with me; I was in no such mood for idle pleasantries. They all seem capable of the tasks that were set before us. I hope that they find my replacement adequate.


Eyre 1st,
Brindol, Rhestilor

I have sent several letters concerning my displeasure and obvious misuse of my abilities addressed to the High Cardinal of Razmiran as well as High Inquisitor Galas. Unfortunately this destitute and remote land has no Sivis Sending Station or Orien courier. I have sent these letters by river barge, once within Razmiran I have ordered my courier to make use of either House as long as they are delivered in a timely fashion. I spent extra coin to hire a fairly educated youth who has been working at the Razmiran embassy. I am certain he will join the ranks of the clergy. Hopefully, when he is finished with his tasks he remains in Razmiran. I have written a letter of introduction and directions to the new priory in the capital. A life of service is much better than any life he would have if he remained in this wretched land.

I eagerly await they’re reply.


Eyre 8th
Brindol, Rhestilor

I have heard no reply from any of my correspondence. I may be premature in awaiting a reply. Requiring traditional courier services seems so barbaric. I would think I was a goblinkin living in the fabled lands of the Dhakanni, Flame forbid!


Eyre 15th
Brindol, Rhestilor

It has now been two weeks since I sent my missives. I fear I may have put too much faith in that boy. Was I in error? I am usually able to tell if someone has the spark of the divine about them. Perhaps this land is deceiving me.


Eyre 18th
Brindol, Rhestilor

I received some grave news. The barge that carried my letters was besieged by bandits. From what I have gathered it was a band of gypsies, river people who make their home where ever they roam. All hands were lost and all cargo is considered to be in the hands of these bandits or at the bottom of the Elsir River. It is a terrible loss, I spent hours drafting those letters. Luckily, I retained a copy of each in my own records. I should be able to get another batch out as soon as the next barge leaves which I have learned will be in two days.
It is also unfortunate that the boy was lost. I had real hope that he would someday learn the tenants of the Silver Flame and become not just one of the faithful, but one of us. I shall spend the coming days in prayer and reflection awaiting the barge.


Eyre 20th,
Brindol, Rhestilor

I have spent the last two days in prayer and have been illuminated by the holy word. It has revealed to me that my place is here, the task that I was given is my sacred charge. The boy was lost due to the savages of this land. If Razmiran and the Church of the Silver Flame stand a chance to succeed here, it will require the lands neighboring it to have some semblance of law and order. I have an opportunity to make these lands safe for the faithful and by my actions others will see the light of the Silver Flame as a guiding beacon in the darkness of these lands. I will bring warmth to those that do not have it and burning flame to those that deserve it.

I have sent my letters with addendums; I will do what I can until my superiors have been able to send a replacement. Until that time, this is my charge. I am here to honor the Eternal Flame and do glorious deeds to honor those who have sacrificed all to save us from the darkness.


Eyre 28th,
Brindol, Rhestilor

It has been a month’s time since I met with the Sword Lords. Much as transpired in that time. I have doubted my task and now accept it as a temporary position. During my time here, I wish to bring as much civility and law to this land as I can.

I have regrouped with the others I had met: the Paladin and Knight Sir Cedric Fellstorm, the priest Boris Cisarovna, and the dwarf Stonechest Bloodbeard. All of which were late. We had a scheduled time and place to meet, apparently time keeping is a skill these country types have yet to master. The Sword Lords have provided us a wagon with supplies, while well meaning they failed to deliver certain necessities that I luckily had arranged on my own. While the Dwarf and the knight argued over who would drive the wagon, the priest of the Host saddled his own steed. Curious that the knight lacked his own horse. I wonder if he is either lazy or lacks the skill.

The knight discussed our plans before I rode out ahead. We were to travel south to the land known as the Greenbelt. There is a trading post run by a man named Oleg where we will establish ourselves and make a base of operations. I do hope that they have adequate accommodations.


Dravago 1st,
The Road to Oleg’s

All would be well if it not for a screaming monkey that the dwarf brought with him from who knows where. By the Flame! I will end that miserable creature’s life if it does not stop screaming. What right does a dwarf have possessing a monkey in the first place?


Dravago 3rd
Oleg’s Trading Post

We arrived to find the trading post bustling with activity. Across the road the banner of Rhestilor flew over a small military encampment. Boris and Stonechest met with some of the locals, while Sir Cedric and I made our way over to the encampment. I was delighted to see that the knight had kept his courtly manners even if he was more ‘road worn’ than a common caravan guard. It turns out that the sergeant in charge of this encampment was Kesten Garess, a member of the same house as Sir Cedric. Some misfortune had befallen him as Cedric made an apology in his introduction. I believe he must have experienced a loss, perhaps his wife or child?

He alerted us of the goings on of late here at the Trading Post. While Sir Cedric was eager to ask questions he was without pen and pad to record our conversation. I quickly presented my own journal to record notes, which Sir Cedric took for granted. I am no scribe or minstrel! I am not going to follow Sir Knight around and take record of his accomplishments nor his conquests…

However, I did record several details that will be of use to our investigations into this land. We learned that a Stag Lord is uniting and organizing the bandits of the river lands under one banner. His followers carry with them a silver amulet of a stag’s skull. Perhaps some cult or Druidic order? I am sure it is not a denomination of the Dark Six, as I have dealt with that before. We will need to keep an eye out for more information on whatever this Stag Lord is. A more pressing matter was brought up to us regarding a certain Falgrim Sneeg, who lead the members of Kesten’s group astray and made off with the better part os a traveling merchants inventory. Falgrim is a mercenary and scout who knows the land well. Kesten believes he is one of the gypsies and was last seen fleeing to the south. Kesten also gave us a general indication of the attitudes and motivations of the common folk of the area. He alerted us to a set of codes that the people of the land follow. I will need to look over these codes and see what kind of people we are dealing with.

Our conversations ended politely and we regrouped with the priest and the dwarf who were discussing local matters with several of the outpost’s regulars. The dwarf looked to write to the Sword Lords and alert them of our arrival, but I handed him a letter prepared in advance. We were introduced to Svetlana and Oleg, the proprietors’ of the trading post. Old Poon was the only local of real note as he was able to give us some direction as to Falgrim’s whereabouts. We have a rough idea that he may be within the Hooktongue Slough, which is populated by Boggards. Old Poon also indicated several landmarks on our map. We were also made aware of several monstrous creatures that have bounties for their capture or demise. The priest, Boris, was very much enthusiastic about hunting these beasts.

Oleg and Svetlana were quite gracious and we were offered a place to stay while on Sword Lord business. I believe we will make the trading post a temporary base of operations. After some discussion, we decided to make for a ruined ferry crossing in the morning. Its said its haunted by the former ferryman. We shall see if there is truth to that.


Dravago 3rd,
Oleg’s Trading Post
Side Notes

Old Poon- an old and somewhat witless trapper who besides his lack of sense may be the best authority on the area.
Grissom- A compatriot of Old Poon

Kobold Caves- 30 miles south across the kames, Kobold tribe, the Soot Scales, are in possession of a fairly large silver mine. They are currently mining it and have good trade relations with Oleg and company.

Fortress on the Tuskwater- Locals rumored that there is a fortress on the Tuskwater that is home to a cult to some goddess of greed.

Rivers

Shrike- Deep and Wide, waterfalls prohibit travel by boat
Thorn- Name derived from the thorns and brambles on its shores
Skunk- Born from hotsprings
Murque- Mostly swampy
Little Sellen- Runs off the East Sellen River
Goudrin- Clean good water


Dravago 7th,
Forest’s Edge, The Green Belt

The last few days have been mostly uneventful. However, our stop at the Ferryman was the exception. We found it was indeed haunted by the former ferryman. He was slain by the Stag Lord. I cautioned the others that we should delay its final rest, as it may not work. Creatures born from death sometimes require specific rituals or procedures to put them to rest. In this case, he may be a revenant in which case he will be near unbanishable, unless we meet the requirement of his death. The dead are not prone to lie if they have nothing to lose, it claimed he had brought no harm to anyone, however no one is able to cross the river until the Stag Lord lies at the bottom of his river.

We agreed that if we heard anything about the ghastly ferryman harming anyone we would ride back and defeat him by any means we could.

Our stop at the Kobold Caves was remarkable only in that we witnessed kobolds that were organized and were not quick to flee or attack us. They seemed well adjusted to humans and even bartered a trade for some cheeses we had on us. We gained several pieces of silver ore in exchange for cheese. Again, remarkable.

On our way back to Oleg’s trading post we swung west to a place where the kobolds indicated may be another mine. The others went within the earth and retrieved several rocks that we believe may contain gold. As I write this we are beginning to break camp to venture towards the forests to the west. Our hope is to retrace the steps of the previous group that made for the “stolen lands.” So far it seems they had done a fine job of clearing the immediate area of bandits and made some great alliances.

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Session 1 (Reboot): Tapped to cleanse the unclaimed lands with righteous fire!

The Sword Lords of Brindol have tapped me to aid a group of adventurers in taming the river lands. I am sure they seek the experience of my family. I am certain they requested me for the divine healing abilities I can bring to bear, for the frontier is a dangerous place.

I have heard tails of this riverland. Bandits prey on caravans bringing frontier goods to market. Monsters roam the untamed wild. Men and beast alike need to be hunted, and burned with righteous fire. All the same, I would not be surprised to meet a few relatives or acquaintances in the area.

Wildmen, beaver trappers and the like, seem to populate the area. My grandfather would have gotten along with these folks. Perhaps I can learn a ting or two from these frontiersmen. I anticipate finding these blaspheming cultists, and ending their terror on the frontier.

There are tails and bounties on various monsters roaming the wild. I hope by ridding the frontier of these beasts that I can earn my name. I have hopes that they are more impressive prey than the giant rats, giant spiders, or sewer alligators I am often tasked with dealing with.

I was attached to a unit consisting of two humans and a dwarf. It would seem that half the unit belongs to some silver and fire church. I am assuming they hunt werewolves and vampires based on the name. I am uncertain where they lie in the scheme of things, but they seem like decent enough people. I am sure they will aid in the cleansing of this area of the various human and inhuman monstrosities, else they may spill over into the neighboring provinces. Their is also a Paladin of The Sovereign Host in the unit. His healing should prove to be useful if I should fall.

May Balinor guide us to a fruitful hunt, and may our songs be sung in the grand halls of Brindol.

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More of Kurgar's Musings

I swear by all the filthy perversions of Khyber, these mouth-breathers are going to get me killed.

It’s not enough that they’re all pretty much useless waterheads that don’t understand which end of a weapon is the business end. They all run around like a bunch of spastic cankerblossoms at the drop of a hat, and have no concept of making a plan and sticking to it.

Points in case:

One of the damned dog-faces can’t keep from getting knocked up and has to go “clutch” every other day. I want to “clutch” her throat and slowly throttle her promiscuous yark-yarking ass. At the rate she’s pumping out dog-faces we’re either going to be overrun in a less than a generation, or eating kobold is going to become a popular dining experience. I’m hoping for the later…

The half-dork is a gut-griping coxcomb. I swear I saw him having unholy congress with that demonic badger of his. Or maybe it was that yark-yarking maggot pie, it was kinda dark. Maybe he’s the one that’s causing her to “clutch” so much.

The gypsy is a beslubbering twat who can’t figure out if she’s a codpiece tease or just a dizzy-eyed, mouth-breathing drooler. She’s all gypsy pride with “my people this” and “my people that”. Trust me honey, your people are a bunch of sticky-fingered, thieving, child-stealing molesters. Just because you don’t remember it doesn’t mean that you haven’t blocked out the memories. Probably one to many jipzzy shots to the face, iffn you know what I mean…

Oh, and we found a bush of “special” berries for the twitchy fucking hophead back at Otto’s. As I’m picking them to take back, trying to help out and minding my own business, a swarm of vicious back-biting spiders attack me. Now I’m not bothered by spiders, but the gypsy flirtgill starts beating ME in an attempt to kill them. She’s causing more damage than they are, and I’m getting pissed off.

Knowing that most animals have a fear of fire, I fumble my way to the cart, upend a bottle of lamp oil, take a deep breath, close my eyes, and spark my flint and steel. Needless-to-say, I go up like the proverbial torch. The gypsy starts running around like a boil-brained goose, the Sovereign Host child’s eyes roll up in her head and she faints. The dog-faces jump up and down, yark-yarking with excitement.

And the spiders flee. Did any of the others help? Like maybe throwing some water on me? Or wrapping me in a blanket to smother the fire?

No. They didn’t. Useless bunch of bum felchers…

A couple of seconds later the fire burns out, and aside from a couple of burned patches of skin, a couple of missing inches off my beard (the greatest tragedy mind you!), and the stink of burning hair, everything is fine.

Only everyone is staring at me like I’m crazy.

Well, maybe I am. I certainly have to have some sort of insanity for staying around these craven, elf-skinned clotpoles.

I hate them.

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Kurgar's Musings...

By the sweet buggering gods and unholy hells in this blighted and forsaken place, Oleg’s continues to collect a particular sort of idiotic loser. Good thing the do-gooding fools have returned. Maybe now I can get paid and get the fuck out of here before my wits drain out of my ears like these inbred, mouth breathing fools. Their damn brains are entirely too far from the earth for them to function properly.

Looks like that pasty, self-important, hopped-up idiot of a gnome either went mad or dead, and the drooling mouth breathers have replaced him with a blasted passel of kobolds. I can’t say that it’s not an improvement, but now everything will be covered in kobold shit, and smell of ass and wet dog hair. At least it won’t stink of gnome.

I am going to go mad with all the damn yark-yarking. I guess I could just kill them. They’re only kobolds after all. Though there are two that seem relatively useful. Muckfuckface and ZitPockAss. Or something like that. Fuckin’ kobolds and their idiotic names.

Maybelle the Cow returned. Still the delectable little morsel, but she’s got the Host jammed so far up her ass, it wouldn’t be worth trying to make “half-dwarfs” with her, iffn’ you catch my meaning. heh heh.

But she did bring a scrumptious little gypsy twat that thinks she’s tough. She pulled a knife on me. It was cute. I’m pretty sure she wants the big dwarf mining pick, iffn’ you catch my meaning. heh heh.

And the Sword Lords did send payment, so back out into the wilderness with these do-gooding waterheads and their pet dog-faces.

I’m actually looking forward to this…

By the all the buggering gods, where did my life go so wrong?

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Jessi-Belle's Journal Session 4`
Jessi-Belle's Journal,

Hello again Poppa,

Much has happen since my last letter. I am not sure where I left the last letter off, so I might be repeating myself in the beginning, if so I am sorry. We left the old sycamore tree and headed to the cart, this was just the kobold who ran off when the elf let himself die, and the gnome. When I got to the cart, there was another kobold attacking the human we left to guard the card. I am not sure if I had mentioned him previously, I have yet to talk to this one, Ranblow I think is his name.

The other kobold, Zit Zak Zat or something like that was an ally of one that we had rescued in the tunnels. He stopped trying to kill Ranblow and we worked it out that the first and most important thing was to get away from the tree, to rest and tend to the wounded girl. We traveled south west for some time, and thought we found a spot, but one of the kobolds was able to smell wolves, so we went along the river for a while longer. We found a little spot along the river where another group had set up camp. We figured they would be leaving soon. I occupied my time by begging to dig a shallow grave to lay out Mable in, just in case. Unfortunately when the other party woke up they were less than righteous people. They attacked me, and one tried to lay hands on Mable while she slept… At least one of them was in the employ of the Stag Lord, they were wearing his amulet around their neck.

Once everyone was well healed the kobolds insisted on returning to the tree, I didn’t mind this seeing that I still wanted to get the remains of the elf so he could be properly venerated. Traveling through the tree was rather simple at this point, we had already dispatched most of the Mites, and quickly found a few things of interest, including a map of the land around here, which one of the kobolds reproduced, the statue they were looking for, and I found the body of the elf. I did not know of a better way to deliver him to his ancestors, so I laid his body to rest in the river so than Hansper may carry him to where he needs to be.

From there we headed toward the Kobold’s den. Originally the two had us “big folk” wait outside. A short time later, Mic Mac came running out in terror with a few of his brood following suit, it appeared that they were fighting a false shaman, a purple kobold named Tartuk, I had not heard stories of him previously, but he would apparently lead kobold tribes to doom and wars they could not win. He was defeated, and the kobolds celebrated and allowed us to enter as allies of Mik Mak and Tic Toc. I was honored as being a representative of Queen Nyrissa. This, along with the other recent appearance of the fey, and their interactions with my group has lead me to believe it is finally time for me to pick up the grandmama always said I would. Which is why I went to the river to try to commune with Nyrisa herself. I have made a pact, as Grandmama has, and carry on the family way.

It was after we left the kobolds den that I made the deal, we took a very winding route toward the trading post I had previously mentioned. We met the drown spirit of one who is an enemy of the Stag Lord, I promised the tortured soul that after we killed the Stag Lord, that we would throw the body of the Stag Lord in the river. We are coming up on the trading post now, so I will wrap this up.

Jessi-Belle

P.S.
I sent the little king in the direction of the tribe. I told him that the family would help to assist him get back to the lands he comes from, I am sure he understood that meant for a fare price.

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Session 4: Of Mites and Kobolds – 01/02/2012
Mabel McCurren

[Session 4: Of Mites and Kobolds – 01/02/2012]

###Insert Date###

Evidently while recovering from the giant centipede attack the group encountered four of the Staglords men. Unlike the common misconception kobolds are terrifying warriors.

After I regained consciousness we traveled onwards to the sootscale tribes liar. Interestingly enough they took up residence in an old abandoned silver mine.

Mik Mak and Zat Katel ventured into the lair, presented the devil idol to the chief, who smashed it on the ground, and rallied his tribesmen to do battle with the purple scaled kobold shaman named Tartuk. After much confusion, and dark sorcery, Tartuk was slain.

We found a gold vein, and encountered a drowned soul requesting the body of the Staglord in out travels. It would be nice to have gold, and it is interesting to have undead allies. We encountered a vile owlbear on the plains, and dispatched it. I think it was elder and sickly.

Ghazog, Mik Mak, Zat Katel, Jessi-Belle, and I headed off to Oleg’s Trading Post. I hope the humans react well to the kobolds presence.

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Mik Mak's Stories

Leave tree and find Zat. Tell Zat stop.

Tell humans that purple shaman, Tartuk, come and bring statue. He tell Chief that we die if we don’t sacrifice to Old Sharptooth. Chief Sootscale strong, take over after thwomptail die. All bow to Tartuk and Tickbiter (talking bird). We no fight purple shaman. We feed Scales to Old Sharptooth every phase of the moon. Statue stolen, we go find.

We fight tiny shaman king and take hims treasure. I get big big axe.

Ride towards caves, stay away from home. Smell bark-crunch so no stay.

Mik Mak and shaman need rest. We get fight by bad bad and win. Mik Mak eat chief’s heart, Mik Mak gain power.

We find dead clutchmates. Bristik, Brongyong (tell haha funny), and Zinzert (smell pretty).

Go back to tree. We find Sharptooth statue, but we no touch. I find bag and dump out and put in bag without touch. Carry sacred statue. Zat make map, then we break map so ugly ugly mites cannot use.

We go back Chief and fight Tartuk. We kill foul purple-scale. Glorious day for Sootscales, new age.

We leave to find more Sootscales. Meet man of the Great Water Dragon. He ask for body of “Stag Lord.” We search- Kill Beak-bear.

Then we find Swampwater Scales! Thems fight croak-monster. We tell that we help! They say they from forest.

We spend much time looking for other Scales to join us.

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Jessi-Belle's Journal Session 3
Jessi-Belle's Journal,

Dearest Papa,

I know it is odd to be writing you only a few hours after my initial report, but you said to write you when I had time, and when major events had taken place. While I had to stop my last letter because some of the mites riding off, a raiding party would seem. We followed them, and ended up dispatching their numbers with relative ease, they seemed to do more damage to those I travel with after their death with the booby traps they would carry.

That is unimportant though, what really matters is once we headed into the tree. The stories of the tunnels under the old sycamore seem to still be right in their flavor. The dense roots, and compacted ground absorb the sound cancel out the sound, it is easy enough to travel with out drawing much attention. Though I will say, the stories leave out the large deposit of spore every where, I’m sorry if any is stuck to the letter, it seems to attach itself to everything.

We did meet the most interesting captive of mites… it is one of the Suit Scale Kobolds, they are the red featherless chickens, the ones that dress in soot suits to distinguish their tribe. He was given a dagger and lent a hand in fighting the mites. Help that ended up being most advantageous in the upcoming fights. First we stumbled upon the mights playing the most disturbing game. They would launch spiked metal balls at one another and catch them in their mouth, or swallow them. This leads me to believe that they have some sort of ability to resist the damage done by stabbings, or maybe by the metal, but I could not recall anything such detail from the tales I have heard. I know these letters won’t reach you for some time, but when you do respond, if you could confirm it. We dispatched those ones quickly, though I scuffed my boot by crushing the throat of a mite that was choking on the barb.

We traveled the tunnels deeper, I am not sure if the mites have tunneled these themselves but I had to walk hunched over and my back is killing me. We found a large chasm with bridges made of brambles. We fought, if not a leader, definitely one of the higher echelon of the mites. This is where things became troublesome. We were able to take out the Mites, but the diminished group, I am not sure where the Druid went to, he never joined us in the tree. We ended up taking everything out in the end, but the elf, the one I mentioned in the previous letter, that I thought might be a redeemable person. He decided early on that the fight was futile and he would sacrifice himself to allow us to escape. The gnome ran off early…. I don’t think his mind could handle the reality of the places he was treading. The girl… she was beaten rather badly I ended up dragging her body out of the hole. The elf died and I could not get to him, I would like to find his boots, remember they had the beautiful fairy filigree, or maybe his blade to be honored. He was a fool, but seemed to be a good man and does not deserve to have his remains desecrated by the Mites.

We are traveling now, I think to some outpost that who ever hired these individuals have set up, maybe you have seen it? I will let you know if it is a place that the Family should come to. I am still doing well, oh, though sadly my dress has been awfully torn up. I will write you again soon.

Love you Papa.

Jessi-Belle

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Jessi-Belle's Journal Session 2
Jessi-Belle's Journal,

Dearest Papa,

I have made myself known to the group that has been traveling through the river lands lately a few days past. They are monsters, and I worry about placing myself in their circle. They have murdered many men, in horrible ways. Drowning in the river, and worse commanding people to obey their commands.

I did not reveal myself until after their fight, so far I have tried to avoid to overtly letting them think they are getting me on their side. A Human woman, Mable, was injured gravely though, as well as their Half-Orc druid. I aided the druid, and then the woman, who went about delivering aid to the rest of the others about.

Mable after seeing to her friends, started raiding the dead with out bothering to give their souls any parting prayers, she began to loot the pockets and packs of the dead. I lit a pipe of tobacco and spoke a word to the departing spirits, I asked Hansper to deliver their spirits to Dolurrh. Shortly after I had finished Mable approached me and gave me a small curative potion, asking what it was. Knowing her healing skills I told her it was nothing to her, and pocketed it for later. Mable seemed oddly displeased with my explanation, but c’est la vie.

The dwarf exchanged a few words with me, not enough to form a proper opinion, but it seems the stories of old about Dwarves seem to have made them more cultured than they appear. This one was actually smoking body parts of the fallen, not smoking like fish, like pipe. This one has left the group now along with a wagon, one of their horses, going to claim a payment he believed he was owed by the Sword Lords.

Speaking of horses, how is Pretty? I do hope little Odranoel is taking proper care of her. I have included in the letter a few candies left for me by a faerie, please be sure to give one to her.

A gnome travels with the group as well, Nephwick, he seems to be most proficient at magics, but believes himself to be a king. It is quite funny to listen to him speak, I may need to record that which he says find a way to make a performance for some of the others out of it.

The druid is probably the one I have spent the most time with over the last few days, but we have spoken little. He does have a wonderful pet though, it has spent many hours running around my feet and scampering around with various things.

The elf and I spoke, he seems filled with so much hate and anger, I am not sure what could have happen to one such as him, but he shows signs of potential for redemption, I will go into the details later though. His name is Darkesh. It is sad though, even when he is smiled upon by the Fae, he grimaces at their gifts and grouses about wonders. You see, the elders were right, and Thelanis has come to the forest land again. The group wanted to explore the woods, a part of their mission it would seem. While we were resting one night, they spirited away his boots and replaced them with loaves of bread. The next night the boots were returned the next morning with gold inlay and wonderful filigree, but as I said Darkesh just complained, said they were ugly.

I planted the small healing potion Mable had given me as an offering to our faerie friends and when I awoke, there were the most wonderful wicker men, one of each of us hanging above me. As I mentioned before, they have also given me candies, this was because Darkesh had made comments about how he had heard stories of our prowess at song and dance, and had not yet seen any such acts from me, so I dedicated a dance to the wee folk, and when I was done there was a pile of candies waiting for me. Don’t worry, I know enough to be weary of the ways of the Fae, but so far all they have given me is payment or gifts in return for what I had given them, keeping the scales balanced as you would say.

Oh, also possibly of interest to you, when Mable was taking from the dead, after I first met everyone, they found a crate of “hill people milk,” the green kind that tastes like licorice root. Apparently it was a shipment for the Stag Lord. I will do my best to look into this, and will keep you abreast of any revelations.

It appears that the group is currently here with three assignments, the first is to explore and map the area, nothing of our concern. The second is to recover a lost ring of some sentimental importance, but little monetary it would seem. If by chance any of the family sees a plain brass ring with a pearl, it may be the one they are after, and we might be able to recover more than its worth from the group. Finally, what concerns me most, is that these people, at least Mable and Darkesh, believe themselves to be the law in the land, I am sure that the lands will “balance the scales” as they have other times, this group scares me. Attached is a copy of a letter “entitling them to power in the region.” You’ll forgive me for not sending you the original, but it may be of use later.

I must conclude the letter to you now dear papa, I just saw some creature leave the old Sycamore, we have been watching it believing that the small ones living under it have taken the ring. I must alert the others. Much love to the family.

Jessi-Belle

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