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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Unchained Melody: Part I

Date: Location: Charlie Mopps Guest DM: Jarrod

So… last we left our little group.

You were establishing a guarded encampment for an extended rest amongst the smashed bodies strewn across the torture chamber. The hobgoblin torturer lies with neck elongated and at an odd angle still with that ghastly grin and open eyes facing the south entrance. His belt gone, he no longer looks so invincible. His hot poker, now only a bent bar of iron, black and wretched.

Blood coalesces on the floor beneath a dangling arm of one of the hobgoblin archers lying atop the ledge. The mad dwarf lies broken on the floor amongst the manacles that once held the powerful arms of the bugbear strangler. From the marks along the dwarf’s arms and torso, it is likely that they also once held him as well. Oddly, tears still seem to seep from the broken dwarf’s eyes as he lies quietly in death… desecrated and forlorn.

What looked to be your own mortal wounds, so gloriously earned in contested battle, now seem less pungent after your rest. Though, no doubt, Krunchy will bear the scars of the longbowmen’s wrath upon his right shoulder for as long as he lives… Alek as well will be marked, and so will bear the scars of the burns seared into his left leg from the torturers fiery implement. Should the group survive to find Krosak, each will be marked in their own way by what they have seen and wrought amongst these wretched caverns…

You recall that there are two apparent exits from this foul chamber. Atop the ledge there appears to be an excavated tunnel extending out of your vision. From that direction can faintly be heard mewling, sobbing sounds. Alek, you sense great suffering from that direction as well as a perverse evil.

The other visible exit, the one that Alek chased the hobgoblin warrior down, your newly found dwarven compatriot, the one from the dirty pen, notices the faint dust of an ongoing mining operation lingering in the air. While still far, distant down the tunnel, the tree sap still seeping from the support structure bracing the 5×4 tunnel also project what seems to be a recent dig. This tunnel can be seen from your encampment to trail off into the distance….

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On to Rivenroar

Date: 5/17/09 Location: Computer Arena

Made it to Rivenroar. We let Morrick our hostage prisoner hobgoblin go free after he showed us the way unerringly. After defeating a bunch of entry guards, Krosak was struck down by a swarm of needle drakes…... The companions took Krosak back to Brindol where he was reborn, costing us a debt of costs to the local alchemist. Krunchy conveniently “found” some of the necessary components.


After clearing Rivenroar, we found this letter in Sinruth’s lair:

Brave Sinruth, The Red Hand will rise again! The other remnants take great cheer in your recent attacks on commerce coming into The Blight That is Brindol. We’re particularly pleased with your ability to inspire a fighting spirit in others, whether they have true goblin blood or merely wish they did. To be blunt, we think you should have many more soldiers under your command. Many, many more. And recent events have rendered some remnants leaderless. With a bold stroke on your part, the remnants would rally to the Red Hand you so proudly display. As your bold stroke, do this: Attack the The Blight That is Brindol by night. Focus your efforts on their Hall of Great Valor, for it mocks the many hard-won victories by the first Red Hand of Doom. Take from them the spoils of war they shamelessly hang on their walls and bring those antiques back to Rivenroar. Do this before the moon is next full. And with regard to your previous question, turning over captives to your unliving allies at Rivenroar is perfectly acceptable. War sometimes makes strange bedfellows, and we appreciate how you’ve united such disparate forces under your banner. Whatever prisoners you take from Rivenroar you can give to the wight. Fight with the valor of your ancestors, Sinruth. And keep your hands stained red with the blood of the weak! I will visit you again next month, at a time of my choosing.

The Emissary

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Beginnings

Date: Location: Computer Arena

Met companions at the Antler & Thistle inn while on a bender. Village of Brindol was attacked. We were given the option to pursue the perpetrators to retrieve the hostages as well as find the stolen town artifacts…

Additional dialogue from sidebar conversations:


@Tugalous from Krosak: What the hell were you doing in Brindol, anyways…? You said something of a university? I do enjoy reading, just haven’t had much time, what with all the taverns still serving me on credit… Seriously though, I might enjoy joining you there someday.

@Krosak from Tugalous: (Tuckolas closes the book he was reading and places it next to his untouched ale. He looks at krosak with sad eyes)

I originally came to Brindol to visit the University of Ioun. My Master, Rodraig the Raven, was a teacher here many years ago. I came here to see if I could find any clues on his disappearance. I was studying in the rose garden outside his tower when my ears felt, more than heard a loud popping sound. My skin burned slightly from the magic in the air. I ran toward the sound and came upon a swirling black mass. The frightened look on my master’s face scared me more than the three demons attacking him. He saw me, spoke words I failed to hear, and ran directly into the swirling mass and disappeared. The demons ignored me and chased after him into the portal which immediately closed. I stayed alone at the tower for a month, worried that the foul demons would return. I waited and prayed he would return instead. I searched through his things and discovered that he once was a teacher here in Brindol. I came here looking for clues, having nothing else to do. I’ve found nothing and I have gone through the meager amounts of my master’s gold I found hidden at the tower. I’m now with you guys looking for jobs to earn enough to keep searching.

(Tuckolas takes a breath. His hand grabs the ale and finally takes his first sip. A smile lights up his face)

I have enjoyed visiting the University. I’m a follower of Ioun, as was my father and his father before him. Her teachings, along with Master Rodraig, have intensified my need to seek out lost and ancient lore. Too much arcane knowledge has been lost. We must preserve what we can. The Library at the university has an amazing collection. I’ll be happy to show you around when we find some time Krosak. That goes for the rest of you too.

(Tuckolas downs the rest of his ale and motions to the bartender for another)

Krosak, didn’t you say you had family here? Did you grow up here or nearby?

@Tugalous from Krosak: Tuckolas

Yeah, my family has a small hold just outside Iskun. It’s about 6 days hike northwest from Marthron which lies east of Brindol. I love that place, but the trouble! Gods, gorgeous women and mead will kill me yet. (double swig from flask, then passes around to companions). Worse trouble than a boatload of randy gobl… er.. pirates. Anyways, I’m not headed back there anytime soon. Someday, when I just figure out what the hell I want to do. I’ll control it all someday, but who wants to deal with all that when there’s ale to swill, hobgoblin swine to pummel, and maids to pinch, eh! (elbows Cog in the side jovially, then rolls eyes conspiratorially with Tuckalos).

As far as my family goes, I am Krosak son of Kara’tur son of Kartor (of the Diamond League) son of Maradun son of Marsak the Gryphon! Kartor was a renowned member of the League and helped to crush the Red Hand the last time they thought to poke their nose where it didn’t belong. (expression turns self-reflective) I don’t know about that nonsense back in Brindol. Sounds like our new boss had a few bones to pick with my grandfather…. Must of came out on the wrong side of a dice game, eh!! Maybe old Kartor stole his bride to be! Or, his daughter, that old fart! Hahah!

Yes, let’s get ourselves to the university when we have a chance. Maybe even some of the old books the Gryphon collected may help? Who knows what’s buried under all that dust back home. Ah the Gryphon… now there’s a Real hero. That’s where my coat of arms comes from (attached), the Oooolllld Gryphon (shakes his head, wistfully). Did I ever tell you about the time he raised an army with 50 silver pence?? Well, back in the year of the Salty Rat…..


@Krunchy from Krosak: What about you? Not exactly town-sentry material, eh?

@Krosak from Krunchy: I was in brindol looking for work. I’m not an unfamiliar face around the town, my master was a druid who often visited the town to purhase materials for his work. His work being myself. I am tolerated within the city, but only one tavern will serve me, and most of the shop keepers, while more then willing to except my coin are quick to let me know just how “welcome” I am in there shop.

@Krunchy from Krosak: And we burned the damn thing near to the ground…! Gods! (looking up in the sky smiling) We may need to check old Erik’s place off the list as well, haha…! Anyways, you’re an ok sort, and you saved our sorry hides quite a few times with that double shot of yours. Blasted, dirty gnomes… (grumbles) Well done, friend. Well done! And, I won’t forget you spending your “hard earned” gold to bring me back. (with raised eyebrow). I can look past the means to the end, especially when I’m dead on Cog’s back for near a day. (With a pensive look) Dark place I went, I can assure you, and lasting memories of needle-drake bites is not something you want to ponder swirling through those mists…. I need to think on what I saw while I waited. Need to come to grips with what it means….. (staring darkly at the walls) Ah, hells. Who knows…?

@Krunchy from Krosak: Two weeks in Brindol, and all you got was dried pig and beans??? Hells man! Spices! Spices! and garlic make the world turn, man!


@Alec from Krosak: You find any use for that Lich’s nutsack, yet??


@Cog from Krosak: You aren’t as dumb as you look, right?? (readies double-move, haha)

@Krosak from Cog:

Very funny Krosak. I suppose my headstrong approach to battle may give off the impression of a simple mind, but I assure you my actions are well calculated. Remember, it was not I that died in our previous engagements. ::goes back to cleaning his shield::

Cog from Krosak: Cog

(mthr fker grmble,grmble..) (chuckles) I know, friend, I know. Your guts clink, but I know what goes on in your mind. (points finger to Cog’s head). Just remember that our souls meet on an empty field, all we can do is choose which side of that field we stand on. Search for those marionette strings long enough, and you’ll find that “you” held them all along. You listen to me. I will help you find what you seek.

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