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Lord Loss
2011-01-09, 07:40 AM
I've just started a new D&D Campaign and so far fun it's been tons of fun.

Part One - All The King’s Horses and all the King’s Men…

Chapter Nil - Introduction

World Info

The campaign begins in the Felcarn Woods, a large forest that borders a small swampland to the northwest and a mountain range to the northeast. Three settlements lie in this area, being Carignan, a human settlement that also harbors many changelings and shifters and is ruled over by the deluded Lord Erald; Terraedelfe, an elven settlement that numbers a great many High Elves, Gray Elves, Wood Elves, Half-Elves and Catfolk. The elves reside in a tree-city which was made by powerful druidic magic long ago. The last of the settlements is Bruma, a mountaintop village inhabited by Dwarves, Dream Dwarves and Gnomes. Dragons both good and evil also inhabit the mountains. Two abandoned settlements also exist, Tollstoff Keep lies in the swamps, whilst an ancient fortress built by a long-forgotten civilization sits hidden in the forest itself.

Character Background

The characters are members of the Emerald Guard, a group dedicated to handling business between Carignan and Terradelfe (occasionally dealing with Bruma as well). They are Arathen, a Dream Dwarf Duskblade/Earth Dreamer, Deskarr, a Catfolk Duskblade, and Ninaran, a Gray Elf Archivist. i don't have much background yet, I’ll post more as soon as it’s available.


Chapter One - Kingmaker

So here's the setup: The Elven King, Cedris Longbow, had died of an unknown poison and his eldest son, Prince Cade Longbow was to be crowned king in a matter of days. Our trio of intrepid heroes had been assigned to bring Lord Erald’s letter of approval to the elven lands and watch over the coronation.

The group began their march through the forest, nervous of whatever lay ahead, eyes peeled - excluding Arathen, who’s eyes were closed. After a few hours of walk, the dwarf sighed and muttered “A group of five, thirty feet away”. His brow furrowed in effort and he spoke once more. “They feel…bad”. The other two nodded. They had learnt to trust their ally’s peculiar connection to the earth. Swiveling in the direction he had indicated, they readied their weapons as a group of orcs came charging from the forest. Four of them, clad in chainmail and wielding masterfully crafted weapons ran towards the Emerald Guardians. They traded blows and spells for a short time, whereupon a small red object appeared in Ninaran’s hand. Grinning ghoulishly, he cast away the orcish heart as his victim, the largest of the orcs, slumped to the ground, an expression of agony plastered on his face. As the green-skinned humanoids recoiled in fear, the fifth of the orcs, braver - or far stupider - than his companions leapt from the forest and grabbed the feline duskblade by the neck, who lashed out ineffectually at the brute, who was massive even by orcish standards. Cursing , Deskarr struggled to break the humanoid’s grip. The orc lashed out in anger, throwing the catfolk to the ground.

After a few more minutes of fighting, only the three emissaries and the hulking assailant that had been relentlessly pounding on the furred warrior remained. The orc spat out a handful of blood and threw himself upon the duskblades, roaring mightily. With a mixture of grace, magic and luck, the gigantic orc was felled, striking the ground with a loud “THUD”. “I am perplexed” stated Ninaran. When none of his companions inquired upon his conjecture, Ninaran continued unprompted. “The orcs were wearing armor far beyond the scope of a mere tribe of savages. The weapons are expertly crafted and the armor is made of expensive metal.” Arathen shrugged. “We’ll deal with the Greenskins some other time. We’ve got a party to attend”. Sighing, Deskarr shook his head. “It’s a coronation. Not a party. The king just died. I doubt there’ll be any festivities. “There’s always parties” replied the dwarf “You just need to know where to go”.

The three heroes arrived at the elven city at the dawn of the next morning, bleary-eyed and exhausted. They visited the king-to-be, handing him the necessary paperwork and muttering a quick farewell before stumbling off to the nearest inn. They woke a few hours later and began their preparations for the coronation, which took place at dusk. As the priest muttered a few lines and the prince stared forward, a solemn look on his face, the Emerald Guardians and the elven elite gazed around, looking through the crowd for anyone wanting to harm the prince.

“Damn Birds” whispered an aged elven warrior, gesturing to a duo of birds circling the area. “Those aren’t birds.” exclaimed the dwarf, who recognized the creatures from his youth in the mountains. “Those are harpies”. Silently, the elf signaled the others, who readied their bows and took careful aim. Unfortunately, they could only fire off a few arrows before a group of grey-skinned humanoids with massive black eyes and hideous, monstrous faces leapt from the crowd and attacked. With a word of magic and a sizzling bolt of electricity, Arathen killed the first of the charging cavern-dwellers. He then put his shield-arm around the prince, protecting him from the murderous gaggle of coronation-crashers. However, he failed to notice the diving harpies, a freakish blend between vulture and woman. The harpies came closer and closer, until one of them grabbed the prince with its left talon and began to fly away, dragging him with her. A determined expression overtook the dwarf’s face as he leapt into the air and grabbed onto the harpy’s leg.

Arathen, who was deathly scared of heights, began to regret his decision as soon as he had leapt. Swallowing his vomit, he climbed the prince - who didn’t seem to enjoy his role as makeshift ladder -and began to hack away at the harpy’s talon, which snapped with ease. The prince and the dwarf began to fall towards the ground, but the second harpy stuck both of its talons into the flesh of the prince, who bit his tongue, holding in a scream. Swifter than most dwarves, the Earth Dreamer managed to grab the second harpy, who retained her flight despite the weight of her unexpected charge. Ninaran threw a ring to Arathen, who just barely caught it as he ascended into the rapidly darkening sky.

Chapter Two: Ground Control to Major Tom


As his burly friend disappeared into the night sky, Deskarr readied his crossbow and took aim at the Harpy. “Focus” he thought to himself “If you can take the Harpy out, that ring’ll do the rest”. Breathing deeply, he fired off a single bolt, which embedded itself in the… foot of the prince. Grimacing, Deskarr turned to see that a Grimlock was charging towards him. Dully, he began to draw hi sword, but before he could pull it out the bestial creature had him pinned to the ground.


***

“Hm… how we goanna work this?” queried Arathen. The prince gave him a look of annoyance, but said nothing. “We’ve got one ring and one crazy &@#%# that wants us dead. I may just have a plan.”. Without explanation, the dwarf, who had never been higher in the air that he was at the moment, leapt onto the harpy’s back and attempted to steer her, an impromptu vehicle. The weight of the two men finally took its toll on the exhausted avian, who began to plummet towards the treetops. As they fell, Arathen gulped and thrust the ring onto Cade’s finger, who began to float gently towards the ground, under effect of the ring’s “Feather Fall” ability. The dwarf and harpy, on the other hand, weren’t quite so lucky. They fell like half-eaten elves from the hands of giants.


***

As his body thrust against the earth, Deskarr caught a glimpse of the floating prince to the north. “Oh look. A fairy” he thought, as his face was struck against the hard ground once

more. His assailant brought him even closer to unconsciousness. Just before he fainted, a blast of magical force sent the ogrelike creature flying, releasing the catfolk from his torment. Looking around, he saw that the battle was won, but that it had come at a hefty cost. Elven and Grimlock corpses alike littered the floor, covering the town square. Most of the audience had fled, those that remained seemed terrified, some even shook with fear. Ninaran stood before him, chuckling to himself. “That, my dear fellow, was a blast” giggled the archivist, helping the duskblade to his feet.


***

Arathen reached out for the branches, attempting to halt his deadly fall, to no avail. Desperate, he pulled out his axe and ground it into a tree, slowing down to an extent, but not very significantly. At best, this was going to end with a good deal of broken bones. Another idea struck him, and he yelled to the prince “Throw me the ring! I’ll catch you” Looking unsure, the prince reluctantly took off his ring and dropped it. The dwarf caught it and put it on, slowly floating for the last few feet of his fall. He extended his arms, prepared to catch the elf, but the harpy fell onto his face, momentarily blocking his view. The prince crashed into the distracted Earth Dreamer’s arm, sending searing pain through said arm and causing a loud snapping noise from the prince, who struck the ground and lay there, motionless.


***

“So.” asked the veteran guard who had signaled the arrival of the harpies. “Did you see where that foul creature went? We must find the prince!” In response, Deskarr pointed in the general direction of the falling “Fairy”. Nodding, the veteran rallied his remaining men, who quickly made their way through the forest, searching for their would-be-king, wherever he may be.


***

The Earth Dreamer had no time to check on the unconscious elf, for as soon as he stood up, he took a series of deep breaths, resuming his connection with the earth. Instantly, he knew the exact location of the many creatures surrounding him, too many to count, coming from all directions, excluding east. Without a moment’s thought, he threw the prince onto his back and began to run . His pursuers, it seemed, were also aware of his movements, as they tracked him like a hound, funneling him towards the north-east and moving faster than he did. Mumbling an arcane phrase, he moved forth at an extremely swift pace, managing to overtake his pursuers. Looking back, he saw a hideous, claw-fingered woman with dirty green hair and yellowed teeth, who disappeared out of thin air the moment he set his eyes on her. “Again with the nutty @#$%@#$” he swore to no one in particular. As he ran forwards, wary of attack, the horrendous woman leapt from thin air, clawing at him and spewing vile curses. He blocked the blow and was about to retaliate when she disappeared once more. Fleeing in terror, he reached the edge of the swamp, when his pursuers caught up to him from both sides. The witch, or madwoman, or whatever she was before him, a mob of screaming Grimlocks - the same grey-skinned humanoids that had attacked at the coronation - behind him. Arathen sighed and looked both ways, electing to take his chances with the swamp. As he waded into the murky depths, the Grimlocks abandoned the chase, but the green-haired female plunged into the bog, swimming at high speed, fast as a fish, teeth bared and claws outstretched.

Chapter Three: Seeing Double coming soon

Please offer comments and criticism on the writing style, the plot and the characters, as well as anything else. Also, I'm always glad to hear suggestions for quests/the plot/ homebrew monsters you think would fit the setting and/or challenge the PCs.


Hope you enjoyed it, L.L

Lord Loss
2011-01-10, 07:26 AM
I've written up the second Chapter of the Campaign Journal. I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to comment, be it criticism, suggestions or praise (- I wish :(
Chapter Two: Ground Control to Major Tom


As his burly friend disappeared into the night sky, Deskarr readied his crossbow and took aim at the Harpy. “Focus” he thought to himself “If you can take the Harpy out, that ring’ll do the rest”. Breathing deeply, he fired off a single bolt, which embedded itself in the… foot of the prince. Grimacing, Deskarr turned to see that a Grimlock was charging towards him. Dully, he began to draw hi sword, but before he could pull it out the bestial creature had him pinned to the ground.


***

“Hm… how we goanna work this?” queried Arathen. The prince gave him a look of annoyance, but said nothing. “We’ve got one ring and one crazy &@#%# that wants us dead. I may just have a plan.”. Without explanation, the dwarf, who had never been higher in the air that he was at the moment, leapt onto the harpy’s back and attempted to steer her, an impromptu vehicle. The weight of the two men finally took its toll on the exhausted avian, who began to plummet towards the treetops. As they fell, Arathen gulped and thrust the ring onto Cade’s finger, who began to float gently towards the ground, under effect of the ring’s “Feather Fall” ability. The dwarf and harpy, on the other hand, weren’t quite so lucky. They fell like half-eaten elves from the hands of giants.


***

As his body thrust against the earth, Deskarr caught a glimpse of the floating prince to the north. “Oh look. A fairy” he thought, as his face was struck against the hard ground once

more. His assailant brought him even closer to unconsciousness. Just before he fainted, a blast of magical force sent the ogrelike creature flying, releasing the catfolk from his torment. Looking around, he saw that the battle was won, but that it had come at a hefty cost. Elven and Grimlock corpses alike littered the floor, covering the town square. Most of the audience had fled, those that remained seemed terrified, some even shook with fear. Ninaran stood before him, chuckling to himself. “That, my dear fellow, was a blast” giggled the archivist, helping the duskblade to his feet.


***

Arathen reached out for the branches, attempting to halt his deadly fall, to no avail. Desperate, he pulled out his axe and ground it into a tree, slowing down to an extent, but not very significantly. At best, this was going to end with a good deal of broken bones. Another idea struck him, and he yelled to the prince “Throw me the ring! I’ll catch you” Looking unsure, the prince reluctantly took off his ring and dropped it. The dwarf caught it and put it on, slowly floating for the last few feet of his fall. He extended his arms, prepared to catch the elf, but the harpy fell onto his face, momentarily blocking his view. The prince crashed into the distracted Earth Dreamer’s arm, sending searing pain through said arm and causing a loud snapping noise from the prince, who struck the ground and lay there, motionless.


***

“So.” asked the veteran guard who had signaled the arrival of the harpies. “Did you see where that foul creature went? We must find the prince!” In response, Deskarr pointed in the general direction of the falling “Fairy”. Nodding, the veteran rallied his remaining men, who quickly made their way through the forest, searching for their would-be-king, wherever he may be.


***

The Earth Dreamer had no time to check on the unconscious elf, for as soon as he stood up, he took a series of deep breaths, resuming his connection with the earth. Instantly, he knew the exact location of the many creatures surrounding him, too many to count, coming from all directions, excluding east. Without a moment’s thought, he threw the prince onto his back and began to run . His pursuers, it seemed, were also aware of his movements, as they tracked him like a hound, funneling him towards the north-east and moving faster than he did. Mumbling an arcane phrase, he moved forth at an extremely swift pace, managing to overtake his pursuers. Looking back, he saw a hideous, claw-fingered woman with dirty green hair and yellowed teeth, who disappeared out of thin air the moment he set his eyes on her. “Again with the nutty @#$%@#$” he swore to no one in particular. As he ran forwards, wary of attack, the horrendous woman leapt from thin air, clawing at him and spewing vile curses. He blocked the blow and was about to retaliate when she disappeared once more. Fleeing in terror, he reached the edge of the swamp, when his pursuers caught up to him from both sides. The witch, or madwoman, or whatever she was before him, a mob of screaming Grimlocks - the same grey-skinned humanoids that had attacked at the coronation - behind him. Arathen sighed and looked both ways, electing to take his chances with the swamp. As he waded into the murky depths, the Grimlocks abandoned the chase, but the green-haired female plunged into the bog, swimming at high speed, fast as a fish, teeth bared and claws outstretched.