A Trip Down Memory Lane

Tomb of Horrors- That Tricky Lich

After a well earned rest the group was unsure how to continue. Only 2 options remained after the Portal of Nakedness, the Portal of Gender Reassignment, and worst of all the Portal of the Oubliette ( The most dangerous part of the dungeon so far). First they had the Demon’s Head with the dark shadowy mouth as large as a door, and the second was the still undetermined use of the collection slot in the chapel.

Not one to shirk away from all things dark and scary, the Avenger strode confidently into the Demon’s Mouth…where he did not return. After some quick thinking the warlock decided to create a portal connecting wherever the avenger might be with the room they were in. Unfortunately, creating a portal within a portal is rarely recommended. And the party came face to face with a crack in reality itself. Luckily the crack closed in upon itself before anything could escape. However, the force of a dimensional rift closing on itself nearly killed them all before returning the Avenger to them.

After another rest the group made their way to the chapel where they deposited the magic ring they had just found into the collection slot which slid open a secret passage. Despite some unhelpful advice from the warlock, the group navigated their way past 3 poison spike traps. somewhat successfully and found a secret door that led them down several flights of stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs they found him. Acererak! The lich creator of the Tomb of Horrors. Despite powerful magic and brutal attacks, the group finally defeated the dread master of Horror, claiming his treasure!

Or did they?

Tomb of Horrors

The party fought their way past the Guardians in the Treasure Room despite the nakedness of the ranger. Still no sign of the demilich, Acerak.

Into the mist...
the transition

Emerging from the cavern entrance that led them down to Khisanath’s lair, the party was embraced by the warmth of the afternoon sun. Comfort, as it always seemed, was once again a fleeting feeling as they took notice of the billowing trail of smoke off to the South. It was from that same direction those few villagers were fleeing the draconians through the valley when last Riverwind, Lake Breeze & their fellow companions descended into the cavern.

“What do you suppose is the cause of such a blaze?”, asked Lake Breeze already aware of the answer, but hoping against hope for an alternate reason.

“You know it in your heart already brother, come let us find shelter for the night.”, replied Riverwind in a somber tone.

“We’ve cleared all immediate danger”, Riverwind announced to the group, “What say you all on where we shall spend our night and recover our strength?”

The group, though both relieved to be rid of the dangerous Khisanth and still feeling triumphant from their recent victory, almost remained stock still and silent unable to even think on what the best answer might be. In the eerie silence and echoing off the canyon walls a low grumble could be heard. It was not the approach of a threat, but rather a very familiar growl coming from Rosalind or rather Rosalind’s stomach.

The barbarian, filthy and a bit scarred merely uttered her usually complaint, “Hungry… when will we eat?.” As she eyed the minotaur in a last resort type look.

“There is not much of a choice between here and any civilized town, we should take refuge in the village of our people”, Lake Breeze insisted.

“Your village is no more, your people are no more, it stinks of the dead! I want no part of that idea.”, protested Boots, failing to cover up his apparent fear with high and mighty words.

“That is your right”, replied Lake Breeze.

“But I’d like to see you fend for yourself without a healer and a dragon slayer”, Riverwind added as if reading his brother’s thoughts. The two smiled and began in the direction of their once home in the plains. The rest of the group muddled over their options and quickly reached the conclusion that the village was both the nearest thing to get to before night came and should they need it a healer and ranger would continue to benefit them greatly in the wild. Snotrag, pulled his boot-hat tightly over his head and huffed as he skittered off after the group. 

It was not long before the brothers and their friends were back in the village. There were a few new tracks but nothing of importance for Riverwind to study before the night fell and weariness overcame him.

“It’s been a long day and we’ve not breathed fresh air for some time now. Let us rest and regain our strength, for tomorrow we head for Solace, unless anyone else has a better plan.” Raistlin advised. The mage usually quiet and for most of the last few days a bit sickly, had given voice to the thought on everyone’s mind before dosing off.

Rosalind, still a bit unnerved by the encounter with Khisanth took first watch hoping to further tire herself out and figured that after a couple hours, sleep would come easily. Time passed and the quiet forest took on an almost conspiring air. Mist, stirred among the dew covered grass and began to rise from the ground eventually engulfing the entire plains just beyond the borders of the tiny village.

Purely by habit Rosalind rose from the floor and drew her sword. The barbarian assessed the situation deciding it was best to wake everyone. As the group came to, with the exception of Boots who only grumbled and turned away and the sickly Rastlin who was once again succumbing to his bizarre illness and unable to stand, they noticed their barbarian rigid and in a defensive stance facing the door to the room they were in. Almost like a feral cat sensing danger nearby, she bared her teeth and gripped her weapon as if the encompassing mist was slowly coming for her.

Once their heads were clear of dreams, the rest of the group were also overwhelmed by unease, a sense of something not natural around them. It was Snotrag whose ears perked up as he detected a faint sound. Riverwind was next to notice and wondered what the faint noise could be. Kvoth, ever the knowledge hungry spell caster, did not care to allow things to remain beyond his comprehension, so he took a deep breath and angrily flung the door open in hopes to scare the mysterious entity as well as drive out his own fears. 

No one was there.

Riverwind turned and bent a knee in front of Snotrag, “Whatever is out there must be terrified of goblins or it would have come at us by now”, said Riverwind in a sly yet Patronizing tone too low for the others to hear.

Snotrag who was not the brightest in the group when it came to subtle sarcasm, eagerly growled, “Snotrag will weed out this foe among the fog!”, Riverwind boasted, giving more pride to Snotrag’s ego.

As Snotrag waddled through the door Rosalind spoke, “click to us should you find the area to be clear or just, howl in horror if it happens to the opposite”. The barbarian having both shed and spilled blood with this small humanoid creature gave Snotrag a crooked smile before turning her gaze back toward the fog. “Have a care for that creature, Riverwind, he may save your life one day. Snotrag has proven his mettle and can be counted among our group as a friend.”, the barbarian warned without turning to the ranger.  Riverwind gave no reply, though he knew in his mind the best scout in the group for such an unusual situation was the goblin rogue. 

Snotrag drew his newly acquired sword before entering the fog and searched through the murky surroundings. The sound heard from the house was a bit clearer now, though just as faint. Straining his goblin ears Snotrag finally deciphered what it was he was hearing. “Help me… please help me…”, a strained and weak voice called out. It was a female, a goblin female, in these woods, he was sure of it! The rogue searched for a few minutes almost feeling as if he was going in circles until a low lying shape arose from the mist.

A small goblin female lay near his feet struggling to hold her upper body up with her hands as if the weight of the world was keeping her down. Sad and weak she called to him in goblin-speak, “Help… me…. please… help…” the mist still obscuring the details of this apparently suffering female goblin.  Wary of a trap, Snotrag shuffled his feet slowly and carefully around this creature studying her, checking for deceptions or possible traps. Something wasn’t right. He was glad to see a familiar face, though he didn’t know the creature. It was nice not to find yet another pink skinned human or talking cow walking around on its hind legs. 

Meanwhile back in the village… “It’s been too long, I don’t like this”, Rosalind admitted through clenched teeth, still put off by the unnatural feel of the mist.

“Alright, let’s go”, Riverwind said with a sigh, his guilt and fear weighing on him from talking the little goblin into being their cannon fodder. The remaining group, with the exception of the sickly mage and passed out kender, exited the house and wondered into the mist. As for the unconscious Boots and her brother, Rosalind hefted one under each arm with ease as she left.

“Snotrag..” the group called out in hushed voices, willing their eyes to see past their own noses further into the fog. To keep from getting separated, each member of the party held on to a piece of rope with one hand and hefted their weapon or item of choice in the other. It took some time, but eventually Riverwind, who was leading the group through the obscuring mist spotted two figures, one looking extremely odd as only a goblin with a boot on his head could look. Dropping the rope, Riverwind and Kvoth raced to the goblin’s side as they called out, “Snot!”, in both a relieved and protective shout.

“Snotrag find she-goblin…” the goblin announced twitching his snout still trying to decide what the next course of action would be. His companions had arrived, he was no longer alone. Surely anything that happened could be handled now. Riverwind, thrown off by the goblin’s statement only manage to get out, “but she’s hu-”, before he placed a hand on the female’s shoulder and suddenly becoming stiff as a board, all color beginning to drain from his skin.

Acting before thinking, Kvoth grabbed hold of Riverwind’s arm in an attempt to free him from whatever this creature, who he saw as human, but the goblin saw differently, was doing to weaken Riverwind. Just like links in a chain Kvoth found himself bound to Riverwind as the ranger was bound to this creature. All thought fled his mind and the world around him grew dark as his eye lids begin to close and the sound of his own heart slowed. 

Lake Breeze lead the others in a direction he could only guess was correct and stumbled upon a scene the horrified him. Two of his companions stood frozen by a female laying on the ground. A female that was no longer weeping nor looking as if she were suffering in anyway. Considering his options, the cleric decided against force, held out his divine mace of disruption and spoke, “I am addressing the creature within, release those under your snare and show yourself!” Just as he finished speaking the tip of his mace gently tapped the shoulder of the woman lying on the ground and suddenly she dissolved. All traces of her lost in the mist.

Kvoth and Riverwind, as if they stayed underwater for far too long,, both began to choke and gasp for air as they fell to their knees. “What was that Lake Breeze?”, the ranger pleaded in a raspy and weak voice.

“Nothing good”, was the cleric’s only reply.

Just as the creature vanished, so too did the mist begin to dissipate. As it did, it became obvious the group was no longer in the smoking plains surrounding Riverwind and Lake Breeze’s former village, the grass no longer lush and wet from dew, instead dry and crackling beneath their feet. There was a stale scent on the wind as a town comes in to view.  Taken aback by the sudden change in location each member took a moment to steady itself and after short discussion decided to enter the town slowly and quietly with Snotrag and Riverwind scouting ahead. It was still late in the evening where ever they were. The small party soon located a dimly lit building near the center of town where casual conversation could be heard and both booze and smoke could be smelled.  

“I don’t see any defensive structures or guards posted anywhere, we should go in and find out what we can about this place”, Rosalind said aloud.

“I only see human’s in the windows. It might be best to conceal the minotaur and goblin. Don’t want to attract any unnecessary attention to ourselves,” Riverwind suggested as he pulled extra clothing from his backpack.

With Kvoth and Snotrag covered from head to toe or in Kvoth’s case hoof, the group entered the establishment as calmly as possible. Most sat down, taking up a broken defensive barrier around the main bar counter top as Boots approached and began asking questions of the bartender.

They party soon learned they were in the town of Crossroads as well as the tavern by the very same name. The group felt eyes on them as the towns people took turns staring at the oddly dressed newcomers. Boots was able to talk the bartender into selling off a few items of clothing to those who decided to try and blend more into their surroundings.

“If it’s work you’re looking for”, the bartender started, “I may have just the thing. We had a bounty letter arrive this morning, sent from the town of Barovia. It seems the Beurgermeister is having a bit of trouble.” Boots accepted the letter and returned to his group seated at a couple of the tables.

Breaking the seal on the envelop Kvoth read the request for aid to his companions. They learn that the town of Barovia was under an attack of some kind. The Beurgermeister was asking for aid from any who might be able to treat his daughter that had fallen ill, possibly from a supernatural predator.

Riverwind returned to the bartender and asked for direction to Barovia. Not long after the group took their rest in some of the room’s of the tavern in exchange for accepting the bounty. In the morning the party rose, replenished what little supplies they could find and headed out towards Barovia.

The days in this land seemed shorter as the sun seemed almost ready to set just before the group reached a set of old rotting gates. Walking past these gates one of the group spotted a shape laying on the ground. The figure is chewed and rotted beyond recognition with its gloved hand still clutching an envelope. Kvoth picked the envelope from body’s lifeless hand and read the contents. The group was unsettled by what is read. The Beurgermeister was warning all away from his lands. “Only death awaits you should you enter Barovia,” the letter warned.

“We’ve come this far”, said Rosaline, shrugging indifferently. “Whether they’re pleading for help or pleading for people to stay away for their own safety, Barovia is under attack and I will not turn my back to those in need”, stated Lake Breeze dryly. There was some debate but the group eventually agreed there were reasons for everyone to go to Barovia.

Evening set before the group had made their way to the quiet town square. Boots hailed the first inhabitant they came across and requested information on where to find the Beurgermeister. With a wandering look the man gave the group directions to the bar around the corner. As Boots and the others entered the place it was the same setting as in the town of Crossroads. Quiet, dimly lit and various small groups of townspeople scattered throughout the room having a quiet drink. When told they would be able to seek information about the Burgermeister here the bartender simple motioned to a table by the window. Sitting there was a young man staring off into the distance, one hand gripping a large and almost empty win bottle. His body slumped back in the chair as if weary from weeks of stress. 

Lake Breeze gave an awkward cough announcing their presence. But the intoxicated individual gave little indication being aware of their presence. “Excuse me, we were told you were the Burgermeister”.

“The Burgermeister is my father… was… my father…”, replied the young man who still did not make eye contact with the group.

“Was you say? Has something happened?”, asked the cleric.

“He was killed last week defending his home and family”, the man admitted, finally looking at the group surrounding him.

Kvoth turned to Boots, “How can that be, this letter from Crossroads is only two days old?”

“May I see this letter you mention?”, asked the man as he stood up steadying his legs under him. As the young man read the letter he shook his head. “This has all the markings of a letter of my father’s except the writing is not his”. The Burgomaster’s son finally admitted.

“Please, compare this letter to it as well.”, asked Boots.   The young man read the letter of warning and nodded thoughtfully. “This letter, this matches my father’s writing as well as his signature. Where did you find this?”

“There was a body lying just within the borders of Barovia”, Riverwind replied. The young Burgermeister’s heir tipsy, tired from recent troubles searched the faces of the group. Having spotted no indication of deceit in their words, he invited them all to come to his family’s estate.


The fence and grounds were in a state of disrepair. The home itself was riddled with scrape marks and some scorch spots.  Every window visible had been hastily boarded up. The inside was not that different, Furniture has been pressed against non-essential doors, all among the walls dozens of symbols had been etched, painted and penned in various sizes and patterns and the stench of death washed over them. Drawing his mace, the cleric, Lake Breeze guarded himself, “What lurks within these walls boy? Tell me quickly!”. “It is no threat, it is only the body of my father, dead a week now and I have received no help from the villagers to bury him. We have almost been shunned completely. With the misfortune that has fallen on this house almost no one will even look us in the eye”, the Burgomaster explained. “Your father, take me to him”, requested Lake Breeze. As he was led to the main room the cleric channeled his divine power reaching out across the area for any signs of evil. None could be sensed. But more troubling, was that for the first time Lake Breeze did not feel the full favor of his deity. And that was enough to plant a seed of worry in his soul. “Your father retains the goodness of his soul. I will speak to the others in assisting you with last rites and a proper burial”. “Thank you”, the young pan replied with little emotion before turning and exiting the room, no doubt to find another bottle of wine to cling to.

Dragons of Despair
The misadventures of a merry group of murderers...I mean adventurers

Gazing over the edge of the cliff face that had once been an alleyway in the ancient city of Xak Tsaroth, Snotrag wondered how the murderers would deal with the 500 foot drop before them and if they would ever stop arguing about how to deal with the drop. The metal plated pink skins didn’t want to remove their armor to climb down. Something about giant spiders. The glowing shaman with the blue staff wanted to do something involving vines and other weakling elvin like tricks. Snotrag was sick of it.

Sheathing his sword in the piece of rope that served as a belt, he swung down onto the long vines that crawled down to the cavern floor. Water draining from the ruins above cascaded down the drop to form a waterfall below and behind him, he heard the metallic clink of the large cauldron elevator as it lowered countless gully dwarves to the lower level. Whether they were being sent to work or as food for the great dragon that dwelt below, Snotrag neither knew nor cared. After all, they were only gully dwarves.

Gripping the vines tightly, he looked up and saw only Raistlin and Boots had noted his actions. He cringed at Boots’ old leathery skin, a contrast to his young, lively eyes. That was the fate that awaited the murderers…Death. Not a quick knife in the night death, but a slow unbearable death. This was the will of the great Sargonas, and Snotrag would see that all would feel vengeance. Even those of the group of murderers he had come to like. They too must pay the price. Just as one day he would.

His thoughts consumed with revenge, Snotrag did not see the water upon the vine as he reached for his next foothold. He slipped, plummeting towards the stone ruins below. Closing his eyes, he knew he had failed. His vengeance would not be fulfilled. He heard Boots’ startled yelp from above, and prepared himself for oblivion. That’s when a bony arm wrapped around his waist, and his fall began to slow. Opening his eyes, he saw the wizard, Raistlin, clutching both Snotrag and Boots to his side. Like a feather they floated serenely to the ground next to the waterfall.

Up above, the rest of the murderers had tied ropes between them with Rosalind descending last. Several times one of the murderers would slip and almost fall to their doom, but Rosalind’s strong arms held them like an anchor. It was only when all the murderers had reached the ground that they noticed a shivering woman hiding behind the waterfall.

‘Great. Another Humie,’ Snotrag thought to himself, barely listening to the female’s tale of woe. Something about being captured and the dragon eating her tribe…Yada, yada, yada. His inattention to the woman was the only thing that made Snotrag see the dwarf, Mrik, begin to stomp down the dark hallway. An acrid smell filled the air and Snotrag felt the ground shake beneath his feet. Dragon!

Diving behind the waterfall, Snotrag cowered as the murderers pushed their way behind the waterfall to hide with him and the whiny humie female. Now was not his time to die. Sargonas had proven that to him. Nor was the it time for the murderers to die. Vengeance had to be metted out on all responsible for his tribe’s death, and the murderers would take him to Verminard. Once that one was defeated the murderers would no longer be of use and the time of revenge would be at hand.

The dragon’s harsh voice echoed through the ruins, “Bring them to me you fools! Find them!” Draconians scurried down the hallways though Snotrag was unsure if they were looking for the murderers or the whiny female. Either way, he watched the direction the dragon left in. That must be its lair. Now they only needed to kill it, and the glowing woman who claimed to be a god would tell them how to find Verminard. Snotrag smiled. Only kill a dragon? He must be going mad. Still it was a good death. A death in pursuit of vengeance.

Sneaking out he signaled for the blind humies to follow. The dwarf, Mrik, pushed ahead. Always brash, the dwarf seemed to always be trying to prove his bravery. As if he feared he was unworthy to be a member of the Knights. Perhaps it was because he was a dwarf, and from what the murderers had said so far, Mrik was the first dwarf to be granted access to the title of Knight. Why that was important Snotrag couldn’t say. It seemed like another stupid surface dweller tradition.

The harsh hiss of Draconian speech echoed from down a side passage. With a glance and a nod to each other Boots and Snotrag scouted the hall. There they saw where the cauldron came to a stop. A group of draconians were throwing gully dwarves out of the cauldron and loading draconian soldiers into it. Overseeing the operation was a large silver colored draconian in robes. Ducking into a crumbled shop, Boots and Snotrag tried to plan their next move, but were cut short by a loud cry.

“For Glory and Honor!” Mrik’s loud voice bellowed. Boots hit his face with his palm and shook his head. Outside the shop they heard the responding roar of the Draconian troops and the clink of their armor as they ran down the hall towards the rest of the murderers. A shout from further away indicated another group of draconians had spotted the group as well.

Boots lifted his finger to his lips and crept to peak out the shop door. Snotrag followed. Beyond the door the robed draconian stood chanting in a strange tongue. With a crack lightning shot from his fingers down the hall toward the murderers. Snotrag heard a high pitched Moo that could only be Kvoth.

Dashing out into the hall, Boots and Snotrag attacked the wizard. Their glowing swords illuminating the dark hallway. Behind him the hall flashed with Kvoth’s spells and rang with sound of Mrik and Rosalind’s weapons cleaving through draconian flesh. Riverwind’s bow twanged as he released arrow after arrow. And Lakebreeze’s prayers to his goddess drifted sweetly through the din of combat. Within moments the murderers joined the two thieves and squared off against the draconian wizard.

With a grunt Rosalind swung her broadsword delivering what should have been a fatal blow to the creature. Instead a blast of fire knocked Snotrag off his feet, and he felt his skin crackling and burning. He screamed, and remembered no more.

Snotrag woke to find Lakebreeze standing over him, praying for the glowing woman to heal his wounds. Surprised, Snotrag realized he was indeed healed. Fresh new skin now lay over most of his body, having replaced that which the wizard had burned. The murderers had hidden themselves in a cell at the recommendation of the whiny human female who they had now given a sword. They wanted to rest and attack the dragon in the morning. Exhausted, Snotrag agreed and fell asleep.

When they woke the murderers ate some rations and snuck down the hall towards where the whiny woman claimed the dragon slept. They doused Lakebreeze in a dust that made him invisible and then the cleric said some words that made him silent.

As usual, the humies had argued for some time about what plan to use before finally deciding the cleric would enter and attempt to hit the dragon with the glowing woman’s stick.

After a few seconds had passed Snotrag peeked in. There he saw the the dragon spewing acid into a seemingly empty area. He shook his head. Humies always forgot about smell. Perhaps because their own noses were so weak. He told the group what he had seen and, like the fools they were, they rushed in to draw the dragon’s attention from the cleric.

Sneaking around the outside of the room Snotrag looked at the pile of treasure behind the dragon. He quickly spotted the disks the murderers sought and watched as they seemed to rise into the air on their own. The cleric had clearly found them. While Snotrag had little interest in the treasure, he knew he needed to gain some power in the group and the murderers cared mostly about treasure. And in the case of the wizard murderers treasure equaled books.

There! An old heavy tome sat atop the pile. Scrawled with ritualistic symbols, Snotrag was willing to bet the wizards would give him anything he wanted for the book even their trust. Glancing back at the battle with the dragon, Snotrag smiled as he saw Rosalind hack into the dragon with her broadsword, the thick black blood splattering on her face. She may be a murderer, but she was an impressive murderer, yelling commands to the rest of the group as she leaped away from the dragon’s claws. Even the whiny human female had taken up arms and was attacking the giant creature.

Snotrag had just reached the treasure when a cloud of darkness descended upon the room . He heard heavy wings beat the air as he scrambled to where he remembered the book being. A sharp word pierced the air and a globe of light pierced the darkness, emanating from the crystal staff Lakebreeze held aloft. Rushing into the light, Riverwind drew his bow and aimed up at the dragon half shrouded in the darkness of its spell. With a sharp exhale he released, his black shafted arrow speeding through the air and embedding itself directly in the dragon’s eye, piercing so deeply that only the feathers at the end of the arrow’s shaft were visible. With a scream the dragon plummeted toward the ground as an explosion of white light shattered the crystal staff.

Grabbing her brother, Rosalind dove out of the way. The whiny human however was not so quick. Snotrag heard the sickening crunch of bone as dragon’s body crushed her beneath it. Shaking his head, Snotrag grabbed the book and all the treasure he could. An ominous rumble shook the building.

Snotrag remembered little of the next hour as they struggled to escape the collapsing ruins of Xak Tsaroth. When he would try to remember in the future only flashes of falling masonry and the screams of draconians and gully dwarves would stay with him. But the time in the temple afterwards he remembered well. The bright lady appeared to them again, praising the murderers for retrieving her disks and bringing the power of the gods back to Krynn. She charged the group with finding a “true leader of the people” and fighting the rising evil in the land. But those were not the words Snotrag remembered. It was the whisper in his mind of her sweet voice saying, “Vengeance and revenge cloud your heart my tiny friend. Let the light of my love and forgiveness lead you to friendship. There is another way.”

Glancing around Snotrag checked to see if any others had heard the goddess’s word. They continued on oblivious. Snotrag wondered. If the gods had returned, perhaps the goddess’s words were true. Perhaps, he could one day call this group of murderers a group of friends instead.

(Dragons of Despair) Captains log.....(sorry I couldn't keep a straight face)
The misadventures of a Kender and his merrypeople

I know my stories were not that exciting, but apparently I put Raistlin to sleep. And he didn’t even teach me any of his spells. Ever since the we saw the destruction at Que Shu the ranger has been even more silent. Which is quite troubling there is so much in this world that we need to seek and find out about. Questions that need answering, answers that need questions.

As we travel through the great cavern on our way to Xak Tsaroth we find a cave. Snotrag gives me a big grin. After we tied on stone, scroll & dagger we decided to venture together ahead of the party. Which was rather strange everyone was unanimous in that decision. Snotrag and I got to know each other better. I think he understands me a little better. We took a lot away from him, yet he uses this as a way to seek his own future. He asked why I fill my pockets so quickly and why I easily part with them. Why cling to something that doesn’t even know you are there. All we have is each other. At that moment Snotrag looked up at me and asked me the time. I gave him a puzzling look that he should know better.

The cavern went on for what seemed miles, and we decided to wait for the rest of the party. It wasn’t until another hour that they showed up and after another debate we decided to press on. Soon our eyes had to adjust to sudden moonlight. Together we spot a campfire. We informed the party. Snotrag and I hid and were able to flank the draconians that were feasting on venison.

I did for a second feel a little bad about interrupting their dinner with a sling bullet in their throat, but seriously these guys are bad news. After I shot my first sling bullet the battle seemed to go awry. After each killing blow they turned to acid. One even started chanting, much to the surprise of Kvoth. When he heard the chanting he tried to rally to focus on the sorcerer, but he must of gotten wind….cause he vanished into thin air. Immediately Rosalind went into pursuit. She must have used up all her grace and balance, cause we heard a splash. Then we heard “IT!”

Then as it rose up from the water we saw the ghost. Some of us tried to reach Rosalind. I did all I could from where I was at. I grabbed a log from the fire and then apparently I got it’s attention. Oh Boy. I mean I like to talk and all, but I wasn’t expecting this type of audience. I mean I know you are supposed to practice in front of a mirror and rehearse… Ok seriously the thing is still there, it is rare that I am speechless. I blurt out “we mean you no harm, sorry for out disturbing you….sorry, please” I really need a better mirror to practice with.

The ghost broke away from Rosalind and confronted me in a raspy shrill voice “Choose one and I will free her”. I immediately knew what it was talking about. I couldn’t trade one for another, they all are special. Seriously Raistlin wake up, cause I feel like right now you are drawing the short straw. I couldn’t do that all straws are important no matter the size. I must of taken longer than I thought, cause Mrik had the answer for it, HAMMER to the FACE!

Now this all happened in a mere seconds and some at the same time. My friends who tried to rescue Rosalind also ended up in the swamp. Finally when the cleric surfaced the prayers were said and a beam of light was cast. The ghosts shrieked in terror and were no more. I think we were spent and could go on no more. But somehow we trekked on.

I felt funny. I found this ring, so obviously it should belong on my finger. One problem is that it wouldn’t come off. Maybe this is one of the few items that can show affection and cling to you. It didn’t bother at first, but during the battle I felt really unbalanced. Even when walking. As we were trying to head to some pillars we saw in the distance, I fell. Kvoth hoisted me onto his shoulders. That made me happy. I almost completely forgot how sick I felt.

As we carried on we saw a wicker dragon and in some talking could be heard. I approached the area moving quietly. Snotrag was no where to be seen, for some reason he was scared. It was just Mrik and I and we had a plan. I was going to report and Mrik was going to talk with them. I thought it was a great plan. The draconian hissed a few words in common that I could understand… something about “pay homage to the dragon….” Then that’s when he start mumbling and gurgling.

Mrik’s axe was in his throat… he has a strange way of conversations. I would of started out with a compliment, then followed with a satirical look on Krynn’s economy under a Godless …..oh we are under attack…. I fire my sling bullet from my hoopak and nail one right in the eye. And then the dragon beast turned to stone. I get frustrated cause I can’t loot statues.

Some of the party darted into the wicker dragon and then I heard a bellowing call the barbarian was screaming and raging “seriously how long does this wall last?!?!” Finally as she rounded the wall she came up behind the vanguard and was stopped by a blue dragon beast. She seemed to be huffing and puffing I’ve never seen anyone run so quickly before. She seemed startled, but she just yelled “Are you kidding me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” followed by an “ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHH” the blue dragon must have had weak ears, cause he seemed he was in daze, though it could of also been Kvoth casting his spells.

Kvoth turns and asks “Little kender, did you get off” If there is one thing I could cross of my bucket list was being asked slightly inappropriate questions during a battle. I answer him with a slight coy “yes” and proceeded to advance the attack. When the damage was done.

We were in agreement that lighting the wicker dragon would be a bad thing. As we approach the ruins we start to explore. The cleric pulls me away from the well. The well had no water, yet went deep down into a darkness. The cleric leads us to a golden door. We enter and in the common room a statue of Mishakel is there. He places the blue staff on her awaiting hands. The cleric speaks her name “Mishakel!”

The statue animates and speaks “Beloved disciples…” seriously this room is really cold " ….man turned away…"….you mean turned down the temperature “….end of darkness…” a hearth is not very expensive, its free most of time, well my time “…..return the truth…” is Raistlin still asleep “….return the balance” ooooh my ring can come off YES “….Truth of the Gods…” ohh I completely forgot she was talking “….recover the discs of Mishakel….” it is rude not to give anyone there full attention when speaking “….leave and find true leader.”

Did she say kender? True kender? I’m pretty sure that is a thing. In an instant we feel rejuvenated and we decide to camp here. I would say it was an unusual night & morning, but for us it was typical. I couldn’t sleep so I went to wonder. I found a savage kender, that totally does not even speak kender. I mean this little one has been through the ringer. But he is really great at picking doors. We hear screams and a battle when we awake. A dragon emerged from the well and a noble knight was battling him, though not successfully.

The dragon caused two of our friends to fall and it was hard dragging them back for cover. I didn’t even try to get Mrik out of there, I knew better. The dragon started to laugh and descended down back into the well. As we rested again and healed up we figured we were at Xak Tsaroth and as a group we started exploring. In one room we found a painting on the wall of Paladine and Takahsis fighting. In another room we found a clever mechanism that created some stairs leading down. We ventured down.

Snotrag and I went first and the ground that we were walking started to give way. There were gully dwarves everywhere. And we could hear the whips as they went across their back from the draconians. The second Mrik stepped onto the ground he informed the party that we had to lighten out load. We distributed our items for the weight and left some items back in the temple. Mrik and I starting marching with the gully dwarves. I could hear the curse words through his thick breath. The smell was quite pungent and sour.

As we got closer to the dragon beasts I drew a dagger and right in between the draconians armor I stuck him and he turned to stone. We looked around and found a knightly ghost guarding some tombs. “Are you the next watch?” Everyone seemed to be in bewilderment, but not Snotrag. That sly devil told him “Yup…. I got you covered bub” And the ghost vanished.

The rest of the party gathered up some nice loot. Seriously what were they going to use swords for anyway? We found a drainage pipe….and of course the knights Garcon and Gaitlin get separated from us. Apparently they didn’t get the word we all were turning to the right. I was worried for them. And it was getting quite late.

We roamed around and then we found a room of beautiful décor. In the room another apparition appeared, seriously what is with all these ghosts. “Ask me one question and I shall answer” I tug on Riastlin’s robes. Ask him about the knights, he pushes me away and starts to utter words that I don’t understand. Power, time, space, hold on we are in the here and now and the knights are missing, he seemed quite disinterested.

“Don’t you care about anyone??”

The apparition spoke “No….he doesn’t” and vanishes.

Now if you had eyeballs the shape of hourglasses, I would say Raistlins’ eyes went to about 17 hours in size. Some time passed as we walked on. “Hey guys where do you think these discs are…….ohhhhh I’m sorry I see what I did now.”

We enter the far door it was nicely kept, not like the others. Immediately a ghost appears staring at Riverwind. “So you finally arrive Kathal…are you ready to pay the tax” I cover my mouth quickly. I even close my eyes for a second. I’ve been known to speak with my eyes. Ok so I start to peak a bit. The ghost only seems to notice Riverwind, even though it doesn’t know his name. I start to scoot my boots over to the bar. Snotrag and I easily climb over and head over to the money bin. We grab some sacks and take them over to Riverwind. As I place the sack on the counter it rips. “THIEF!!!” the ghost calls out suddenly I’m surrounded. In a blink I feel tired and sore.

“Seriously lets get out of here! there is no reason to be here!!” Rosalind calls out. I start to crawl out slowly and we head back the way we came. We head towards rushing water and hear a splash. We see the two knights trying to swim, but making no progress. I took out some rope and started to make lasso and then I notice the wrinkles in my hands. We used the rope to fish out our friends. Raistlin looks at me with worried eyes.

Dragonlance Classics
Dragons of Despair- Chapter 1

After a 5 year search for proof of a true cleric in the world, a group of companions met on the road to Solace:

Rosalind the Red Majere, a strong barbarian, and her brother, Raistlin Majere, a red robed wizard,
Mrik the only dwarf to be accepted into the Knights of Solamnia, and his friend in the Knights, Garcon.
And Boots, the free willed kender handler.

As they reunited on the road, a group of goblins surrounded them, demanding a crystal blue staff from the adventurers. Not knowing what the goblins referred to, the party was forced to fight the goblins, defeating them easily with their skills learned on their quest.

As they continued along the path to Solace, the party met two brothers, plainsmen from the Que Shu clan. The brothers revealed that they had been cast out of their village as blasphemers, because Riverwind had found a mysterious blue crystal staff on his traditional coming of age journey. He had returned with a fever and the staff, giving the staff to his brother, the devout Lakebreeze. Before he could elaborate the group arrived in Solace and went to the Last Home Inn.

Within the tavern the adventurers heard rumors of soldiers from the capital, Haven, searching for a blue crystal staff, and a story teller foretold that Raistlin would face a great test in the ruins of Xak Tsaroth. Uncomfortable with the pointed stares directed their way, the adventurers decided to forgo resting in the tavern and with the aid of the tavern maid, Tika, crept out the back stairs and onto the road to Haven.

As they made their way by the lights of the three moons, the party saw a group of cloaked figures approaching with a cart. They claimed to be servants of the Masked Lady which Lakebreeze recognized as another name for Takhisis, the evil dragon goddess. They claimed a holy relic, a blue crystal staff, had been stolen from their temple in Xak Tsaroth. Saying they knew nothing of the staff, the adventurers moved on to make camp in the woods.

All of the party was fast asleep when Boots and Riverwind heard something trip into the fishing line with bells they had set around the perimeter. A half dozen goblins with wargs ran screaming from the trees, swords drawn. Deep in the darkness of the forest, more goblins fired at the party. Frantically grabbing their weapons, Rosalind and Mrik rushed forward to engage the closest goblins as Raistlin yelled out in a language no one else understood.

Piercing light blinded the goblin assailants, as the party quickly dispatched them all, save one. A blubbering wretched creature tangled in the fishing line of Riverwind’s bell alarm, the surviving goblin told the party that hundreds of goblins roamed the region, all searching for the blue crystal staff. However, none of the goblins knew why. Only that their bosses were scared of some outside power who wanted the staff. A power that resided in Xak Tsaroth.

Choosing mercy for the pathetic goblin named Snotrag, the party decided their journey to Haven would have to wait as more and more clues pointed them towards the ruins of Xak Tsaroth. Deciding they would need more mounts to get across the plains quickly, the party split, sending Riverwind, Lakebreeze, Boots and Snotrag to circle outside the town of Solace while Rosalind, Raistlin, Garcon, and Mrik bought more mounts.

As they crept around the outskirts of the town, Boots saw several unattended horses tied to the post outside the tavern. Abandoned, and longing for freedom from his point of view. Giving Snotrag a knife, he convinced the goblin to go and cut free two horses before he heard the sound of someone coming out of the inn. Knowing they would misunderstand his liberation of the abandoned horses, Boots hopped up with LakeBreeze and Riverwind lifted Snotrag to his horse and they rode off in time to hear “Thief! Horse Thieves! Men of Haven Militia Assemble!” As Lakebreeze coaxed their horse to break into a run, Boots hoped they caught that pesky horse thief. Stealing was wrong after all.

Meanwhile in the market of Solace, Raistlin and Rosalind had just finished negotiations on the sale of a couple of horses and a pony when they heard the cry. Looking over at the two knights, Garcon and Mrik, they all realized at the same time what must have taken place. As calmly as possible, they made their way out of the city in time to see four militia men riding after a cloud of dust in the distance.

Glancing over his shoulder, Lakebreeze saw that the militia men were gaining fast. Handing his reins to Boots, he began to pray to his goddess, Mishakal, for help. Vines and grasses sprouted from the ground, wrapping themselves around the legs of the pursuing horses. With heart wrenching screams the horses fell throwing their riders from their backs. Lakebreeze and Riverwind urged the horses towards the pass into the Great Plains.

Rosalind was still shaking her head about the dead militia horse they had seen on the way to the pass, but she knew that with two broken legs the soldier had little choice but to put it down. Now she, Raistlin, Garcon and Mrik rode with the back up militia who still pursued the horse thieves. Night was beginning to fall and Raistlin looked as though he needed his nightly tea to keep himself well. She informed the Captain of the Militia that her party would be stopping to make camp on the road. Wishing the party well and asking them to keep an eye out for both the horse thieves and a blue crystal staff, the Captain turned his group south into the plains and rode away.

It wasn’t long after that the smell of cooking food and the warm light of the campfire drew Snotrag, Boots, and the two Plainsmen brothers from their hiding place in the grass of the plains. Overhead, the crackle of thunder and flashes of thunder revealed a strange storm moving in from the North, South and West. The smell of smoke blew in on the harsh winds.

After a short debate the party drove the militia’s horses back toward Solace, hoping the return of the stolen animals would make the militia lose interest in them. They then made their way North into the grasslands to find a more secure campsite. What they found instead was a foreboding copse of trees and a stronger smell of burning. grass.

Fearing the sudden fury of a plains fire, the party drew deeper into the trees though every step filled them with dread. All of them except Raistlin who calmly informed the group that this was the death site of an ancient evil wizard whose spirit was rumored to continue to haunt the wood. While arguing whether they were safer in a haunted wood or a grass fire, the party heard the sound of boots approaching. Hiding in the trees, they saw a small group of large figures moving around the outside of the woods.

By eavesdropping they heard the creatures complain that someone named Verminaard had not allowed someone named Kisanth to aid them in their search for a staff. Unfortunately, Mrik shifted his weight as he tried to listen closer and a twig snapped.

Half of the figures entered the wood to investigate while the rest stayed out due to fear of the forest’s reputation. Pulling up his hood, Raistlin called out into the darkness, “Who dares enter my forest?!! My spirit shall devour you!” before casting light and blinding several of the creatures. Standing over five feet tall with large wings and a reptilian face, the creatures before the adventurers were unlike any they had ever seen before, yet they followed Raistlin’s queue and rushed the dragon like creatures. With strong and steady swings Rosalind and Mrik chopped through their first two opponents, ripping their blades free as the creatures turned to stone and crumbled to dust.

Exchanging a quick, surprised look the two fighters pushed forward. Behind them, Riverwind pelted the attackers with arrows from his bow. Taking aim at one of the attackers, he drew back his arrow only to hear the sharp snap of his bow string. Cursing, he dug another string from his pack and pulled back.

In the shadows of a the tree branches Boots planned his attack, sneaking behind one of the strange creatures and drawing his hoopak. Silently he swung watching as the rock flew through the air and smacked one in the back of the head. It turned to stone and crumbled away. Within moments it was over. Piles of dust with the creatures’ gear on top of them were the only evidence that the fight had even taken place.

A wet barking coughing filled the wood and the light from Raistlin’s staff flickered. Moving swiftly, Rosalind caught her twin as he fainted and lowered him to the ground. With care she prepared his herbal drink and fed it to him as he began to sweat and shiver. Gathering the gear of the fallen creatures the party huddled close and listened to the howling wind until they finally fell asleep.

The next morning a chill drizzle began to fall, and the damp and generally miserable group was awoken by Riverwind. A large stranger was approaching. Taking defensible positions, the group peered out into the soggy plains to see a minotaur in white robe with a large wooden staff. Overcome by curiosity, Boots made his way out and asked the minotaur who he was and what he wanted. He claimed to be a wizard named Kvoth, traveling to Xak Tsaroth in search of ancient spell books. Glancing back at Raistlin’s unconscious and feverish form, the group agreed another caster would be very helpful so they invited Kvoth to join their group.

Throughout the next two days the adventurers traveled the Great Plains, several times coming across large paths of tromped down grass and the tracks of many wagons and boots. An army seemed to be on the move.

Knowing they would need supplies, they approached the village of Que Shu. Above Riverwind and Lakebreeze’s home village, carrion birds circled ominously. Somberly the group made their way into the town. The doors to huts lay open and the bodies of a dozen Plainsmen lay on the ground. But most disturbing was the burned body of a hobgoblin hung in the center of town. Burned by a heat so hot as to melt the chains it hung from. Above it hung a shield and written in blood were the words “This is what happens to those who take prisoners. -Verminaard.”

Distressed the company continued on towards the ruins of Xak Tsaroth…..

Welcome to your campaign!
A blog for your campaign

Wondering how to get started? Here are a few tips:

1. Invite your players

Invite them with either their email address or their Obsidian Portal username.

2. Edit your home page

Make a few changes to the home page and give people an idea of what your campaign is about. That will let people know you’re serious and not just playing with the system.

3. Choose a theme

If you want to set a specific mood for your campaign, we have several backgrounds to choose from. Accentuate it by creating a top banner image.

4. Create some NPCs

Characters form the core of every campaign, so take a few minutes to list out the major NPCs in your campaign.

A quick tip: The “+” icon in the top right of every section is how to add a new item, whether it’s a new character or adventure log post, or anything else.

5. Write your first Adventure Log post

The adventure log is where you list the sessions and adventures your party has been on, but for now, we suggest doing a very light “story so far” post. Just give a brief overview of what the party has done up to this point. After each future session, create a new post detailing that night’s adventures.

One final tip: Don’t stress about making your Obsidian Portal campaign look perfect. Instead, just make it work for you and your group. If everyone is having fun, then you’re using Obsidian Portal exactly as it was designed, even if your adventure log isn’t always up to date or your characters don’t all have portrait pictures.

That’s it! The rest is up to your and your players.


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