Laucian’s Diary: Leaving with Strangers

7th Day of Richfest

I cannot believe I was roped into this pathetic band. Their leader, or so it seems, is too preoccupied with making a deal with the giants that have long since abandoned their home to see the urgency of action. Their wizard, the one that burned our forest was reluctant to perform a simply attonement and only went through with it after a lot of coaching from Ereb.


Published in: on December 6, 2009 at 4:40 pm  Leave a Comment  

Tales of Escape

Tales of Escape

4th Day of Richfest.
Vraath Keep.  Early Morning

In order to freely explore the rest of Vraath Keep, Valthurne and Krodorn lock up Koth in the war room with the intention of retrieving him on their way out. However, somebody has other plans.


Published in: on November 14, 2008 at 7:01 am  Leave a Comment  
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Bam does a Better Job than Avaris

Published in: on October 15, 2008 at 1:09 pm  Leave a Comment  

Journal Entry 8- She ran calling Wildfire…

I think I am not fond of goblins. Whether they are the run-of-the-mill, Varag or Hobs… I just do… not… like… them.

We were waylaid by hobgoblins on our way to Drellin’s Ferry. If not for Bam’s alertness we would have been overwhelmed. These hobs were well-armed, organized and determined. They also had the support of a hobgoblin priest who wove his spells unseen.

We managed to overcome the ambush and slay the priest, but one hob escaped. I think that will come back to haunt us. Another thing that’ll likely come to bite us in the nethers is the forest fire that started in the skirmish. We managed to rally the good folk of Drellin’s Ferry to fight the fire, but in our haste to warn them, I nearly forgot to retrieve any possible clues to the true purpose of the hobgoblin presence (I believe that they were too well organized and trained for mere brigandry). I still remember the look of disbelief from my comrades when I rode back into the fire, but I couldn’t take the chance of losing not only proof of the attack, but also information that could link them to our current mission. I hope that I am wrong and that the attack was merely coincidence.

I have always felt ill at ease among decision-makers and the local government seems to be capable. The most I could hope for is that we are able to give enough warning and information to aid in the difficult times ahead… and a capable sword when the need arises.

It is amazing, the damage a minor spell can do. Racing through the burning wood, my eyes stung, my lungs burned, the heat was overwhelming. I have a new-found respect for my mare, untrained for combat, she still held steady. Racing through the inferno, she was steadfast and true. She made the difference between a desperate race to salvage proof and a fool’s mission. Later, as I was brushing her down, I found a number of minor burns and singed hair. I am truly amazed that a mere riding mare could be so fearless and true. I never got around to naming her… until now. While I admit it is also a playful jest at Iroel’s expense, I think a fitting and long overdue name for her will be Wildfire.

Published in: on October 9, 2008 at 9:33 am  Leave a Comment  

Shady Dealings

Iroel looked around at the streets that he knew so well. To think that he was already back in the city he had spent a decade in. But he had already said goodbye to a solemn life in the libraries, surrounded by old tomes and arcane devices. He had spent the journey thinking about what he would need, and now was the time to fetch it. First, he would be heading to Arzen, the gnome with whom he had so often discussed his research in the ten years he’d been here.

He turned to Chealn, to ask him to fly ahead and tell Arzen that he was coming, but then, as soon as he turned his head, he remembered. His old companion was no more. Once again briefly recalling the moment when they first met, at the time where he was still a novice, he quickly gathered himself.

There wouldn’t be time for this kind of thing, he thought. They had a job to do, and no matter how much he despised the thought of following orders from a king, no matter how deceased, he still had to assist his friends.

He walked with quick steps to Arzen’s house, and found that the gnome was home. His old friend was happy to see him, but quickly took on a more professional attitude when he heard the reason for the visit.

After closing the door to his friend’s house, he stood still for a moment. How would they react to helping him, who had so often scoffed at the thought of their so-called powers? He gathered himself, and went on. Finally he arrived at his destination, a small unnoticeable house in a less reputable part of town. As he entered, he could immediately sense the smell of incense in the air, dulling his senses and his wits. He proceeded, and found, in the biggest room of the house, the person he sought. A small cloaked figure, who sat behind a rough wooden table, raised its head and looked at him.

“Ah, the scholar. What do we owe the visit?” the voice said in a sarcastic tone. It was a woman’s voice. A bit hoarse, but a woman’s nevertheless. Iroel sighed, and replied in Goblin, as good as his grasp of the language allowed him to: “I need assistance. I know that you don’t like me, and honestly, I’d much rather deal with someone else, but you’re the only one with the abilities needed. I know of your power over fire, and of your habit of copying down the exact details of your magic. I also know that you probably won’t wish to help me, which is why I, in addition to the payment for your services offer this.”

Iroel reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small chain, from which a small symbol hang. The symbol of Maglubyet. He held it in front of the goblin, and then laid it on the table. “I assume we have a deal?”

Published in: on October 1, 2008 at 7:08 pm  Comments (3)  

Just Desserts

Unfortunately, mine was not the blow that ended Xeron’s miserable existence. My dissatisfaction was lessened when I finally got what I wanted, a pair of enchanted gauntlets that enhances their wearer’s strength.   As for the others, they got other valuable objects. Of particular interest is Merthuvial, an ancient sword belonging to a long forgotten king of these parts.  We encountered his spirit, and he told us of his link to our party thru Valthurne, who he entrusted Merthuvial to.

I wonder how this affects our fortunes, our future.

I have decided to stay with this group a little longer.

Published in: on September 29, 2008 at 10:11 am  Comments (1)  

Journal Entry 7- Something wicked this way comes…

18th Day of Wealsun

My dearest Ahnar’a,

I am at a loss of where to begin.

I am a descendant of the Rhestilor King Theron. I now bear the sword of my birthright, Merthuvial.

We had finally defeated Xeron only to find that his deeds were part of some greater plot. Some of Xeron’s minions escaped with some items of power. Items that must be recovered from the hands of evil if the good people of the land are to be safe.

As the spirit of King Theron spoke of a descendant among us, I could feel his gaze upon me. The seer’s confusing fortune in Four Winds became clear. With a certain dread and heavy heart I stepped forward to accept my birthright. A dread born not of knowledge that my destiny is not my own or even that my search for your freedom will be delayed, but of a sense of dark times to come. There is a prophecy that the King would return to aid the land in its time of greatest need. That time, I fear, is coming soon; and the lost legacy items are at the root of it I am sure.

I must ask you, my love, to wait awhile longer.

I must learn all I can about the history behind my ancestor, King Theron. I must unlock the secrets of Merthuvial and restore the legacy items to their proper place. I must do all that is in my power to ensure the safety of the people of Elsir Vale.

When these things are done, I can return.

Until then, my heart is with you.

Valthurne of Rhestilor

Published in: on September 17, 2008 at 9:21 pm  Comments (3)  


If there’s a specific creature I loathe the most, HOBGOBLINS flash through my mind vividly.

Maybe because my past death was at the hand of one. Maybe its very presence infuriates me. Or maybe it’s just flat out ugly to be left standing. But whichever reason, my first impulse is to just bash its head to pulp.

I’ve been having this strong sense of hatred over hobgoblins that I even failed to heed a companion in dire need of help. So much loathing over their kind has been burning inside that at times I think I might be forgetting what I’m supposed to be here for.

I don’t know if I bash enough hobgoblin heads I’d feel truly satisfied, but as long as I see one, I have full desire to knock it down.

Pelor, deliver me.

Published in: on September 15, 2008 at 4:24 am  Comments (1)  

18th Day of Wealsun promises…

Bam reflects on the recent encounter with his cursed ancestor, Baryn Marapolous Sigorian the First, otherwise known as the Betrayer.

Mental Notes:

Bam One’s Swords – I refuse to let the world remember my name and those before me as the betrayer. The swords he used for evil, I will use for justice (and killing mages… Mages = Evil)

Naiades – The rage for the magnificent creature’s death fuels the fires inside of me. It’s like losing Ahnar’ra all over again.. Xeron will face my wrath.

Iroel – As much as I dislike him, I could never forgive myself for what I have done. Even if I know, deep inside, it was Bam One’s doing, I was weak. Everything has been my fault and I will make up for my weakness… and I have to figure out where he’s hidden the ink this time.

Xeron – He will pay. For all my pain, a thousand times will I repay him.

Letters – Write to my mom.

Published in: on September 11, 2008 at 1:18 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Another Loss

The battle against the abomination took another of our companions, Chealn, Iroel’s familiar. As I understand, a familiar is more than just a wizard’s “pet”. They are an extension of their very being.

I have witnessed the death of a part of Iroel. I wonder how this affects the elf? I myself have never seen an elf in grief…

Published in: on September 6, 2008 at 5:04 pm  Comments (1)