Thursday, July 28, 2016

Ah Politics!

So D&D has been a bit off my mind lately, and I apologize.
In our last mission, the party came across an intriguing character who seemed to have something they wanted to discuss with them. Curious, they followed him down a few of the rat warrens of Dockside in Lowtown.
It turned out he had been sent by a figure known as 'Goldtooth,' who wanted to know what had happened to his 'cargo'--that pile of sticky black highly-illegal residue currently residing in one of y'all's backpacks.
Two of his buddies decided to join him, and despite their looking extremely formidable, our band of plucky heroes decided to go to work anyway: despite a few serious wounds, they chopped and stabbed their way to victory and captured their leader, the fancy-looking poppinjay known as Pierce Appleleaf (I believe).
As he was nothing but a mercenary and now feared for his life, he told the party everything they wanted to know. I will attempt to post a lot of the more political stuff here (what I can pull from my notes) so that you can combine those with whatever notes you all took.

There is a steam powered lighthouse. The coast is fairly rock with lots of little rocky islets. On the side opposite the lighthouse there is a giant mirror. The light flashes off it every time teh lighthouse turns around, thus acting as a flash of light and a secondary reference.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

The extensively depressing tale of "Morgan"

 Morgan                                            PART. 1

When Morgan was a young child, not much older than 7 months, He and his mother wandered into a forest to eat lunch.  A picnic his mother said, after lunch my memory gets I little fuzzy, but the last thing Morgan remembered, he had been looking up at the heavens, it was dark then. As difficult as it was for a child of his age he sat up to scan his surroundings, dark pines, salal brush and ferns covered the boarders of the clearing he sat. For hours he sat in confusion,

Friday, July 1, 2016

Two days of Thyne

Better than Thyne

Desmond spent several hours of the moonlight scanning over the parchment found upon the deceased sorcerer’s attire.  After deciphering the note he sat pondering the meaning and implications of the scroll eventually sinking into sleep. In the wicker chair at his study, his dreams malformed to Shamus and his condescending tones and expressions.  Moments of the interaction repeated, each time the expressions increased in intensity.  The animosity built to anger with the passage of the dream loop, and was accompanied by a dark voice.  "In ashes, retribution in ashes," the draconic voice repeated over and over.

The burning light of the morning sun cast upon Desmond.  He awoke unaware of the dreamscape of the previous night with an overwhelming desire to pursue Shamus.  He tried to ignore the urges deciding to visit a local engineer to inquire about the workings of the local town elevator.  His visit was short and unsatisfying as the Dwarven Engineer shrugged him off with distain.