Journal Entry, February 9th 2017:
As we brought civilization to the centaur savages in Thousand Needles a call rang out looking for adventures to enter the Razor Fen Kraul. A warlock cried out for heroes strong in character and ability, and this Tauren was up to the task! With his trusty sidekick Waise in-tow, we moved to the designated area to meet our compatriots. As they began to arrive we realized something shocking: this group consisted of two Mages and a Warlock. Waise was about to have a bad day!
We contemplated our actions carefully, debating on our next move. Waise, a priest gifted in the uplifting and care of the spirit, convinced himself to press on, increased competition for this foul dungeons various treasures be damned. We entered into the lair of the Quillboars, the stench of it overwhelming us.
With trusted blade in hand, and shield on arm, I charged into battle with my army of cloth-wearing casters behind me. It didn't take long to realize something very important about my new comrades: I wasn't going to get consistent polymorph magic on this adventure. Where one Mage would use his mystic powers to turn the tide in our favor the other would throw all caution to the wind and initiate a spell to hurl shards of ice in a large area around our enemies. Chaos ensued, and it tested the limits of our young priest's ability to keep all five of us from a visit to the spirit healer. Somehow we managed to slog through each encounter, grinding our way towards the end.
The villains of this cavernous dungeon began to hand over their weapons as tribute to our strength, providing this Tauren with a plaything of a dagger called Thornspike and a new axe requiring a double-grip, appropriately named the Corpsemaker! My young apprentice Waise suffered through a drought of valuables, wanting only for the rare neck accessory that a fanged monstrosity called the Blind Hunter left on his corpse. Unbeknownst to this warrior, the entire group of cloth wearing softies had a great need to obtain this treasure as well, but it was this mighty brawler than proved his skills not only in combat, but also at rolls of the dice that won the day.
Now armed to the teeth, and with furious purpose, the team approached the leader of this ragtag band of malcontents. We spotted him, Charlga Razorflank, perched on the edge of a tall rise overlooking his subjects below. Our team, now forged in the bonds of blood and struggle, united now with the desire to strike the final blow to this army of Quillboars, charged forward and let out their cries of battle. Even gentle Waise, generally too timid and restrained to engage in such acts of aggression, let out a war cry! His heart beat a thousand times a minute as he unleashed his prayers healing upon me. As the dust settled we looked upon Charlga's corpse and reveled in our triumph. Only Waise remained silent, torn between his duty and his conscience, regretting that while consumed by bloodlust for battle he had left many innocent Quillboars without a father or a husband. Our party disbanded, many of us returning to our inns of choice to enjoy a well-deserved post-bloodbath drink. New friendships were formed this day, that will last the test of time. Or at the least, until the end of the week. Either way it was a night to remember!
by UdderBrudder on Feb 11, 2017 at 09:54 AM