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That’s a lot of fucking orcs...
Macross looked out over the column of Black and looked at the red spider banner with a delicate crown. Bitch. Rotten bitch. Fucking Rotten Bitch!!

The column marched by at about 3 mph for about 10 minutes. Makes the column about half a mile long in close order. A platoon every 50 feet, a company every 150 feet. Shit. It meant about 2000 to 2500 Heavy Infantry. Not including any support units or wargs with gobbo archers. Fucking driders, too. Plus the doubling of prior forces on the walls of the city and a dragon. What had become clear was that the news had to be relayed to other places. Verbobonc was in the glue. Something needed to be done.

That is a lot of fucking orcs.
Session: Episode 17 - Wednesday, Nov 14 2018 from 9:00 PM to 12:30 AM
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Escaping the Dungeon (Session 4)
Well, I suppose I had better start writing up my account of what has gone on in these dungeons so you don’t have to trust that crafty noble Tirondel’s stories. I haven’t bothered to read them, but I don’t doubt they include many an undeserved put down to me or one of our other teammates. Despite what he says, that guy isn’t always the brain and powerhouse of the team. I’ll try to give a more accurate description of the events of our kind of heroic quest.
We had finally made it. The Sa Karan Blood Stone was imbedded in the far wall. I was about to run towards it when I came to my senses and looked around. There were three dead bodies: a female Sun Priest, a half orc, and a handsome young gentleman in shining armor. Near them were the bodies of two monstrosities. They had three shell like legs, I guess, that all converged on a circular center, which had a gaping mouth facing the ground. There was no chance, though, that they were still alive. It looked like these three, presumably the Scarlet Riders, had put up quite a fight.
As I investigated the man’s body, I discovered that sadly, he did appear to have passed away. As I was looking for signs that might show who he was, I heard a yell from behind me. I turned around to see Tirondel, holding his hands out, the remnants of a burst of fire quickly fading from behind a monster that seemed to be the same as the ones lying dead on the floor. It was spinning like a top, with the leg like things rotating like a motor above the head, which was violently spinning on the ground. I pulled out my sword, just as the monster’s rotating legs struck Snowy across the chest. They left a bad mark. Looking around, I noticed that there was a large hole in the ceiling. It appeared that the monster had gotten the drop on us.
Tirondel shot a burst of fire at it again, but it seemed to have no effect. It lashed out at Thomdril, but Snowy muttered an incantation that seemed to make its attack miss. Tirondel shouted at us not to attack it. Did he mean to show mercy to it? For some reason, Thomdril listened and stayed his blade. I, however, ignored his order and attempted to strike at it with my shortsword. I hit it, but the shell protecting the creature’s insides stopped it from going deep enough to do any damage.
The creature again turned towards Snowy, but Tirondel yelled another incantation and coils of earth came out of the ground and wrapped around the creature’s legs, stopping it in its tracks. Thomdril now struck at it, realizing that there had been no need to pause in the first place, and his great axe broke through the shell, doing the first damage to it of the whole fight. I took this chance and swung at it alongside Snowy, but again, our strikes just bounced off of the shell.
Tirondel scoffed at us, though it seemed completely unreasonable considering he had done no more than us, and while hanging back safely too. He then shot a third blast of fire at the creature, and this one hit, scorching it through completely. While he had just stayed back until the end and stolen the kill, I had to begrudgingly admit that it was a quite masterful display of fire magic, though I would never admit that to his face.
The fight finally over, Thomdril went and pried the blood stone out of the wall, and we went back to looking at the bodies. We found numerous magical items, which we had Snowy identify. The handsome man I was observing turned out to have a quite strong magical longsword, a magical amulet, and a signet ring proving him to be a member of the house of Galstaff. He almost surely was Trabyan, and he was dead.
Whispering a prayer to him, I took the longsword and promised to do good with it, in his honor. The amulet I gave to Tirondel, a reminder to him of my kindness and generosity. I also figured that if we were accused of killing Trabyan and his companions and looting their bodies, I could blame him, but I convinced myself that that wasn’t the main reason. We allowed Thomdril to keep the blood stone and the maul that he had picked up from the dead half-orc. I left the signet ring on Trabyan’s body and prepared to begin the long trek back, now with Trabyan’s body in tow.
Before we could start moving, though, we heard a loud rumbling sound and a large crack appeared in the ceiling. Rocks started raining down. Tirondel yelled, “Earthquake!”, which I though seemed rather pointless, as this could hardly be mistaken for anything else. As we ran, jumping from rock to rock, I unfortunately had to leave Trabyan’s body in the room so that it wouldn’t encumber me in my escape.
We jumped over the pit trap from earlier, but rocks were falling down the tunnel. It seemed we wouldn’t be able to escape this way. Tirondel yelled that we had to get back to the spider tunnel. We jumped back over the pit trap and fled back down the tunnel. We each looked for notches in the rock for us to hide in, each found one that looked like it would work, and hid in them.
We stayed there for a while, waiting for the rumbling to stop. None of us were willing to get out even once it did, for fear that some rocks might not have settled down quite yet. Eventually though, we worked up the nerve to get out, and we walked back up the slope. We looked up the tunnel, but there was no way we would be able to make our way up it. The rubble completely filled it, so that clearing it would be a lengthy task, one which we did not have anywhere near enough rations to keep us going long enough to complete anyway.
We climbed up the hallway and were able to make it back to the room where we had left the bodies, only to find that the back half of the room along with the wall that the blood stone had been embedded in had collapsed, and far below, there was a stream. I found Trabyan’s body again, which was no easy task, as the floor and the bodies were almost completely covered in rubble, and I took the signet ring from his finger and put it in my pocket. I felt bad about having to do this, but we couldn’t carry his body back in this shape. It would be a hard enough journey without extra weight. At least with this ring, we could prove that we’d found him.
Tirondel suggested that we climb down to the stream. We tied a rope between myself and Thomdril, who was the only one of us with any experience climbing, and I cast a spell on myself to boost my own climbing abilities. After all, one misstep here could mean our doom. We climbed down slowly, section of the cliff by section, with Thomdril and I alternating between the top of the climb and the bottom, and eventually made it down to the stream.
We got in a line with me in front and started to follow the stream, hoping it would lead us to an exit, but the space we had slowly lessened, until all of us but Thomdril were reduced to crawling. The space was slowly closing in, but we had to push on. If we turned back now, there was no guarantee that we would find another way out.
For some reason, this trek was really tiring me out. Every movement was a struggle, but I pushed onward. As time went by, we regretted not bringing more food and water. We hadn’t yet been reduced to attempting to drink the water from the stream, but we were close. The only liquid any of us had brought was Snowy’s liquor, which he didn’t have much of. He shared a drink with Thomdril.
Finally, the space closed. A wall of large boulders blocked our path, and the stream just went through small cracks in them. Still, we had to keep moving onward. We formed an assembly line to clear out the rocks, and after a full hour, finished. I was incredibly fatigued by this point, and the only thing keeping me going was my loyalty to my friends.
Now, though, the water was getting deeper and faster. While this was a good sign that meant that the stream at least didn’t end very soon, Thomdril’s height that had aided him earlier now meant that he was practically swimming so that he wouldn’t go below the surface of the water. If this turned into rapids, it would be almost as bad as the stream ending, as was our concern before. The only good news was that by some kind of miracle, I was feeling almost fully rejuvenated. Then came a bend in the river. I scouted around it, and found that the river came to a waterfall.
As I looked over the edge, I saw that it went down about 10 feet. The drop would be no problem, but the worst part came after that. There was a whirlpool at the bottom, and the river led from there to the side. Luckily, there was an opening to a tunnel across the whirlpool. It was the first dry ground I’d seen in what felt like days. To get to it, though, we would have to cross the whirlpool, and if we failed, we’d be pulled down the stream to the right, and most likely would not survive.
I waded back to the others and relayed this information. They came up and we all took a moment to decide what to do. Finally, I came up with a plan. I tied the rope around my waist and handed the other end to Tirondel. Then I cast a spell on all of us to boost all of our climbing abilities. Our plan was this: I would climb across the wet rocky walls to the other side. Then I and one of the others would hold onto the rope so that the others could climb across it.
I started climbing across the sheer rocky walls. They were slippery, but I was eventually able to make it. I held up the rope, which was just long enough to go across the entire whirlpool. On the other side, Thomdril kept hold of it. Snowy decided to go first, but instead of climbing hand by hand, he began to walk across it like a tightrope.
I watched as he made it halfway across, and then looked down. I saw him go pale, and then cursed myself for forgetting. Snowy had an irrational fear of water. He lost his balance, then wobbled back and forth, trying to stay on. His attempts were futile, though, and he fell from the rope. True, it wasn’t going the way we had planned it, but he could still swim to my side safely. At least, that was the hope. Then we saw the cave gnashers.
They must have crept up sneakily, waiting to attack whoever fell in. There were eight of them, and Snowy landed right in the middle of them. Three of them climbed up the rocks on either side of the waterfall and bit at Thomdril and Tirondel, but they all missed. One bit at me and it hit me, but did no significant damage. At the moment, at least, I was more worried about Snowy, who was attacked by the remaining four and sank under the water.
My instinctive pull to help kicked in, and I jumped in after Snowy, taking a hit from the cave gnasher that had hit me earlier in the process. I cast a healing spell on Snowy, and could only pray that it had helped. I took a defensive stance, putting my body and my sword in the way, blocking the cave gnashers from being able to deal any more damage to Snowy.
They attacked again, but didn’t do much. I saw one get knocked off the above ledge and fall down, getting impaled on its comrade’s spear. I cut one’s head off and Snowy, moving again, swung at one but missed. One hit me, but I shrugged it off. No matter what, I would protect my friends.
Then I saw three icy bolts fly from the above ledge, presumably from Tirondel, and freeze through three of the remaining five cave gnashers. As the other two, realizing that they were outmatched, turned to run, I cut down the one on my level, as Tirondel took down the one above.
We had won. The cave gnashers had been defeated, Snowy had been saved, and the other two were able to get over to our side with no incident. Finally, we were back on dry land (or dry stone) and could see a glimmer of hope. We would get out of there and live to see another day.
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Epic × 3!
Entry #1 : The Party and the Potions Mistress
Day 01, Year 831;

Fate has brought me to the company of uncanny folks; adept but uncanny. The team that I have been working with for some time are quite diverse in both race, class and expertise. It is more than enough to say that our differences in the aforementioned classifiers definitely come with different ideals, beliefs and objectives.

The small one, Ducky, is perky. I do not remember if she mentioned her full name when she introduced herself and if she did, I must have forgotten but her pet name suites her quite well. She’s very boisterous for a paladin. You would think that a person of such class would collect him or herself in a manner that is noble and of divine elegance but she does not exude that at all especially when she punched me while we were in the dingy kobold’s lair. The little one makes me think that she’s on an adventure for two reasons 1. For the sake of it and 2. To learn more about the world. Her going out of her bubble was a big mistake and I hope she notices it when it’s too late.

It amuses me how the world is slowly corrupting her “sense of self and justice” so to speak. Surely, the world will twist and break her like anyone, who is birthed to this realm, experiences. One would expect that someone would care but that someone is not me.

On the other side of the spectrum is of unholy appearance. He goes by the name Barakas Obamas and almost refers to himself in the 3rd person but let's just call him Barakas. It is of utmost importance that power does not fall in his hands which is regrettable since he has obtained a drake which he calls his son and is responsive to the name, “Jerod”. I have seen a lot of daft sentient creatures in my lifetime but this “thing” is no more than a beast in his conduct. One evening when we were running and hiding away from our pursuers, we failed in avoiding combat and had to fight due to my own bad luck. Instead of grabbing and using his weapon, he opted to throw a pebble which did not do much. Luckily, we were able to defeat them and the members of the team were unharmed.

If this is the kind of able-bodied beings that are being drafted, I cannot say much as to how the army will be victorious against the monsters that we are facing. It will take a miracle to win such a war and I’m pretty sure that you, gods of the realm, are enjoying your little game of thrones - throwing your set of dice around, devilishly enjoying this realm’s misfortune yet being gracious at the last minute no?

Let us not forget the silent but deadly leader of the pack, Corporal Martell. All men, even in their extreme machismo and bravado, know when to stop being such an unwanted thorn on one’s rose. Yet, I am pretty sure that Des would love and look up to this person. After all, my little brother loves a good tragic hero - a man who is in search of power, who wants to prove himself because he feels inferior but blind to his own superiority complex which ultimately causes his demise. To weave such a story, to be able to direct it and to induce suffering to this man over and over again even after his passing would be amazing.

Have you ever then wondered what it’s like to be this guy where people love him but no one actually likes him? If he were to die due to DEATH’s untimely knocking at his door, it would be appropriate to say that he died in vain

Finally, the most fascinating creature that I have ever come across is this anthropomorphic bird who is somewhat a harbinger of death. To say that he is DEATH would be an insult to the being himself but this bird, Jean Luc Pikaw, comes close. This Pikaw has a fetish for feet, dead feet, that he would happily nibble on. The touch of his black flipper was able to disintegrate a drake to its bare frames and when you look into his beady eyes, they are just like endless pits of pure nothingness. I wonder what would happen if I scoop his eyes out of his skull - will it just be literally pits of nothingness? Ah but if I did, he would not be as interesting anymore since no one would have any windows to look into this creature - we would have no way of knowing what he thinks since he cannot be understood and he will be in complete isolation unless he channels his consciousness to what lies beyond this realm. Of course, that is he ever finds someone like him.

To be honest, what I find more unusual is that I have been conscripted into the army even if I am of abnormal origin. Half-elves are, after all, not exactly of the mortal realm nor are we of what humans would think is beyond the boundary.

The mortal beings must be so desperate to defeat these gigantic serpentine creatures that leave nothing but destruction and demise in their wake when they, themselves, are of destructive nature albeit capable of good deeds. If there is one thing I am most aware of and have taken to heart in my 225 years is that no matter how good a person is, if they have no strong sense of who they are and/or what they stand for, give them a little push, inspire their greed, cloud their judgment and they will certainly do wrong. It’s the same for doing the right thing as well and yet, here we are.

Similar to the case that we are currently handling. Commander General Softpaw has given us a task to escort a potions mistress, Lucinda Alhertin, convicted of dragon-worship. Dragon-worship is considered as treason. Her nephew, Dylan, confessed to the crime yet all testimonies are against the boy being the prime suspect and even if he is, it is uncharacteristic of him. Everyone who knew him thought of him as a sweet boy and thus, the party has been led to believe that he has been controlled or brainwashed to murder his Aunt. Supporting this information is the fact that Jerod smelled a third unidentified smell in the area.

Other pieces of information found were the green orb and the blood in the bowl. Corporal Martell figured out that the murderer was left-handed and that the swing came from above. He also visibly noticed that Lucinda was kneeling while she was struck from behind as the ceremonial dagger was found lodged in her back. It is sufficient to say that either she was in the middle of her worship or that she was forced into that position to stage that she was a dragon worshipper instead of her just simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is also worthy to note that she has a lot of cuts found on her arm and a fresh wound was found on her decayed body that the blood found on the bowl could be hers but what if it was made to look like that?

A lot of creatures do self-inflicted wounds for sheer pleasure. Her being a potions mistress could mean that she’s been using her blood to make potions that require blood. Also, the halfling mentioned something about the cabinet/table holding the dragon statue. During our first investigation, it passed over our heads that the dust has been newly settled on both the “altar” and where it has been placed as opposed to the other areas of the basement. I cannot get rid of the nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, the whole town has been under the influenced of the orb and that everyone’s memories have been...altered. Instead of Lucinda being the traitor, she might have been in fact trying to lift the curse since the elf who was posing as a vagrant did mention that she was inquiring about a scroll that could lift the curse.

I am now in possession of the green orb and of the dragon dagger. The team does look at me funny when I nonchalantly cut myself and offer my blood in order to find out the answer to this murder mystery. The vagrant did warn us that this orb is of otherworldly aura and has the power to alter memories and so, I have taken it to myself to write down everything that happens. For as much as I want to forget and just live my life entertaining the masses, I cannot especially my own personal mission. This, however, would be a good story to tell.

I have a lot of hypotheses to this riddle and it has certainly gotten my attention that I have forgotten to look for clues and the whereabouts of my remaining family. Coming from someone who used to be the star of the theatre troupe, you wouldn’t expect such a mind but literature and the humanities do offer insight to the psyche - almost to the point of paranoia.

I’m torn, my dear gods.

On the one hand, I’m still bent on exacting my wrath against those who tore us apart but on the other hand, it has been… fun being with this ragtag group. Who would have thought that it’s possible to find people[I] that you can consider er… a new family? in this wretched world. [/I]

It’s concerning and I hate it. I’m not religious but if you gods are real, someone… anyone, please give me a sign that I’m right.

As above, so below.
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Heroes of Cambria
Episode 5: Underground Fight Club!
Answering a summons from King Cain himself, our heroes found themselves at the Rusty Fish-hook inn, surrounded by beautiful young maidens from the nearby magic academy. After a more than a few beers, over 250 'ronas, and some strange fruit, the group left their penthouse suite with more than a few sore legs. King Cain offered them powerful magical items in exchange for dealing with a Kenku Drug dealer by the name of La-Penn. After doing some shopping, the party figured out the secret entrance into the arena beneath the Silver Coin Tavern. Betting their swords, gold and lives in the arena, our warriors fought bravely, winning a small fortune within the arenas walls. After apprehending La-Penn, the heroes made their way back to the castle, and received their reward. However, through this experience, the Party discovered that the Old Monarchy still has agents, and not everything is as it first seems....
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Tags: Battle , Level Up , NPC , Recap , Summary
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Heroes of Cambria
Episode 4: Creepy Statues and a Hag!
Delving deeper into the catacombs beneath Rivercross, the party solves a difficult puzzle, encounters a strange Hag named Muriel, and statues that look exactly like them. They also accidentally awaken an restless ghost due to their unending greed. Finding random treasure and discovering the true nature of their Metal Shards, the heroes figure out that an ancient Hero of the area has been resurrected by dark magics. A difficult battle ensues, with each member fighting bravely against the undead fiend. After defeating the Wight, the party finds some treasure, vials with mysterious liquid, and the Brown Mushrooms! Hastily returning to Riverscross, the party returns the mushrooms and gains some gold. Resting at the Dirty Shame, our heroes look for a new adventure...
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Tags: Battle , Level Up , NPC , Recap , Summary