The World of Telvar

We set off from Teft on March 20, 2184. We traveled with a caravan to the town of Cromwell. After changing our money and purchasing riding horses, we set off through Cromwell, passing through towns and asking for directions along the way and performing the usual social blunders. We did have enough “savvy” to pack our weapons and armor on horses before we set off and so experienced nothing other than occasional strange looks, with one exception. When we passed by a forest in a particularly unpopulated section of one of the provinces, we were hailed by a man appearing out of the forest. It turns out that he is a local druid and was completely caught off guard by the appearance of a member of the Druidic Court (or whatever the terminology is) without any warning. Quentin apparently has not yet become accustomed to his growing stature among the druids.

We eventually reached the northern towns, and a rude guard refused to inform us that we should equip ourselves near the swamps in the north, and it was only when we encountered a man from Posidenus on the road that we realized we should equip ourselves.

Finally, we reached the very distant towns to the far north. A kid came up to us in a bar and asked if we were adventurers who had responded to the advertisement. We investigated and found that there was a 150 gp reward for eliminating two ogres who had been stealing stuff from the townsfolk.

We were going to stay the night anyway, so we said, what the heck. Quentin and Kain scouted and found the two ogres dragging a cow back to their lair (which was across the border in Drake). They returned and grabbed Donald. Donald polymorphed into bird and the three set off, and found the ogres in their lair. Donald stepped back, and lobbed a Fireball into the cave, and flames jetted out of the cave, leaving a charred smell.

The three sifted through the wreckage and found melted silver and gold coin glop, and a mostly intact chest with a lock that had melted shut. Donald took the ogre’s club and with a roar bashed the lock open (02 on bend bars!). Inside was 400 gp and cloth bits, etc. Donald made some crack like, “Gee, what do I need you guys for?” and we took the stuff and headed back.

The mayor/deputy/whatever was pretty stunned that we had pulled it off in two days, especially since “most of you never left the bar.”

We got our reward plus a 50 gp bonus for recovering the lost goods (with a 4 gp extra “for a job well done”). They asked if we lived nearby, to which we responded, “… no.”

Nonetheless, we told him we stop in on our return trip, and that we really had to hurry to the Dim Forest.

We reached the town of Hook Hill, which is right near the Dim Forest. There we restocked on supplies and consulted with the local sage. Although his information was similar to Augman’s, we did learn about “the Despicable,” a type of undead monster in the western Dim Forest that is apparently immune to all weapons and spells, thereby being unkillable. If we stayed on the road we wouldn’t see those.

Also, since the fall of Groorg in 2180, the monsters of the area were getting more desperate as the controls fell away. Also, there is a Realmish bandit group roaming about, a rogue group from the Wuncan civil war. They are very well armed and the possibility cannot be eliminated that there is a shocktrooper among their ranks.

We thanked him and set off after reselling our horses (at a loss of only 10 gp total!). We have about 1500 gp plus other things for bribes for the inevitable encounter with Lludd, the behir who lives in the area (in fact very near the Horn of Iguil area).

We set off into the Dim Forest. There was only one encounter, when at night 30 ghouls ran screaming at the party. However, before they could reach us, 12 ran away, 6 exploded, and most of the rest were Webbed. Cassian then blew the rest up and Quentin slept through the entire encounter.

We emerged from the Dim and set off on the path into the mountains. We were notified that a party of dwarves would probably be coming down about a week from when we set out from Hook Hill.

We climbed for a few days with Cassian and Bogomel helping with their skills. Alduin and Morgan were also good climbers. The cliffs weren’t sheer, but travel was very slow.

The front line of the party abruptly stopped one day when a few hobgoblins appeared at the top of the cliff and started shouting. Warned that the tribes were becoming much more violent and desperate since the death of Groorg, we knew to expect hostility. This was further solidified when we heard in dwarven, “Give us all your weapons and gear and maybe we will let you live.”

Cassian, Bogomel, and Felix were near the top at this point, while Balinor, Chiaro, Donald, and Quentin were lower down. No one could see anything except the edge of the plateau, so Kain turned into a crow and flew up to scan and report. Alduin turned invisible and he and Morgan moved up the cliff face, Morgan hanging just behind Alduin.

Balinor and the others climbed down to a safer location while Kain scouted. He discovered that there were at least 15 hobgoblins with spears and swords and all sorts of stuff. Donald shrugged, and waited as some of the hobgoblins moved forward. Then he let loose a Fireball, exploding above the hobgoblins (who were out of his sight range) and killing all of them, or at least dropping them.

Kain went up for another look and now it become clear that he had somehow missed the main force. There were at least 60 other hobgoblins up there, including formations with composite longbows and spears and crossbows, and a shaman figure with several bodyguards. Anyone who crested the cliff would be met with a hail of arrow fire. Several hobgoblins were crawling forward to save some of the burnt hobgoblins from the Fireball.

Things looked pretty ugly. Quentin anxiously fingered his scroll of Call Lightning and looked at the partly cloudy sky. Then, of all people, Chiaro saved the day.

Chiaro cast a Spectral Force, and several “Defenders” crested the cliff, where they were shot at repeatedly. A lightning bolt streaked at them, went through, and arced down and hit Quentin (who was carrying Thunderstruck).

The “warriors” staggered for a moment and then began to advance under Chiaro’s command. Meanwhile, a new demonic warrior appeared with a glowing sword of lightning. This must have freaked them out, because the shaman yelled something and threw an object that bounced into the vicinity of the cliff area, in the middle of the illusions. All of the hobgoblins dove for cover.

Nothing happened.

The hobgoblins looked up in disbelief.

Several hobgoblins began advancing once again, and this time, Chiaro hit them with a “Fireball.” Half of them collapsed, “dead.” Now the hobgoblins were really in a pickle, as they went to retrieve their new “dead” comrades. Chiaro’s illusions were rapidly losing credibility, but it was too late for the hobgoblins.

Why?

Because all of this had bought time for Cassian to cast a Dust Devil.

The little air elemental soared up and reached the object, which was still lying on the cliff face… and kicked it.

Right back at the main hobgoblin force.

They all dove for cover.

It didn’t matter.

The object vanished in a rapidly expanding orange sphere and a huge demonic being appeared in the area. It turned and darkness enveloped orange sphere, and the cloud moved over the hobgoblins who were too slow off the mark. The shaman and his fellows staggered out the back, running, and a jet of flame emerged at one point. There were screams.

After a few minutes, the cloud began moving rapidly after the fleeing hobgoblins. Behind it were only bits of armor and equipment.

The cloud enveloped the shaman and his cohorts, and it was all over in a matter of minutes.

The darkness dispersed, and there was nothing there.

The Defenders climbed the wall and searched through the gear at the top, finding all sorts quality weapons and armor, but mysteriously all money and any magic items (if there were any) had vanished. All we had was one hobgoblin who still thought she was dead, who we tied up and questioned.

It turned out that they were a nomadic tribe and that they had apparently set up their camp here. The hobgoblin didn’t have much useful information to volunteer, and so we had to decide what to do with her.

Quentin wanted to bring her along, but a massive outvoting by everyone else stopped that route of madness. We offered her either a quick death or to be released. She preferred release, and we told her that most of the weapons were still intact and that the dead tribe was over there. She ran off. Didn’t seem particularly bothered by the incident.

Well, there you have it.

Joel/Balinor