Atlanta Gamers: Scales of War

Unchained Melody: Part II

Date: 9/14/09 Location: Charlie Mopps Guest DM: Jarrod

Krosak’s Summary Monologue:

I did not think that I would survive to see you all again… When they realized that I had no idea about the monastery or its former inhabitants, I consigned myself to death again…. No more fine dogs or lusty wenches on my lap… Ahem… to be clear… wenches on lap, dogs on floor… I mean.. well! Damn it, you know what I mean!

When they first grabbed me 3 days ago, it was just a bunch of hobgoblins covered in soot, coal dust and foul intent. That bastard Morrick led them straight to us… That other bastard, the mage follower of Gruumsh, was also with them the whole way…. He knew how to handle Cog with a bag. They were all laughing about it later and pantomiming with another sack… They were singing in ugly common:

“Sticks and Straps… guts of rag.. lost his sight… with a bag!”

Still can’t get that damn song out of my head….. It is…. kind of catchy you have to admit.

They called the half-orc magic user “one eye” because his left eye was promised to Gruumsh. The coward hadn’t taken his own yet, but he damn sure promised me that mine was next as a sacrifice. The things he said to me…. I can’t bear to repeat….. but seems my eye was not the first that he’d “found” for Gruumsh… Thank Kord you came in time… No…. no, thank Avandra… Yes. It was her doing. The strength of Kord abandoned me in my bindings…

When we got to the caverns, the filthy bastards took me to a large holding pen which they used to keep me between trips to the foul torturer’s chamber. That son of a halfling, Morrick, didn’t have the guts to watch me bleed, that death-marked, smelly bastard. I knew we should have heeded Cog’s advice and slit his damned throat that day… (nods sagely in Cog’s direction). My only company was that legless one, Sorch. Not a bad fellow really… gave me some willow bark to chew as I lay there. Whatever happened to him? Oh… oh well. (gives Cog a sour look)

Finally, the day before you guys saved me, Arator, the guy with the ice rays and fireball came to see me. He didn’t have much to say, but he kept his pets in line and saved my eye for the moment. I think he knew my father, and assumed that whether I was a half-wit or not, at least my dad’d pay for my release some-day.

@ Krunchy  -    No.  I'm not really a half-wit, thank you very much...   I just played dumb.

And that’s all I really can recall… They took all my gear, but thankfully Krunchy was able to find my father’s sword and my new mail in that final chamber. Had to watch them use my damn healing potion on one of those evil little duergar that smashed his own foot in a fight. You would have thought they were Arator’s lovers the way he protected them from his other pet, that bloody, evil troll. They broke my warhammer and warpick, smashing into the dwarven rubble and masonry along the wall. Damn fools… can’t tell a fine weapon from a stick in the dirt.

Anybody want to spare some change for a broke warlord….??? No? Oh well, Avandra will provide… She will provide….



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