Ancient Of Days on :
Curtis, I absolutely LOVE the way you've legitimized my heavy-handed and callous murder of Thelonious. This is great stuff. Rath's first entry is coming.
Wednesday, July 27. 2005Urfengar: Dwarven Revenge
My good friends' son is dead. A young man I helped rear is gone from this world, and I could do nothing as a madman destroyed him before my eyes. I lack the words to describe the horror, the outrage that shook me as I realized that Thelonious was beyond my help. Never have I been so close to a traveling companion and been unable to heal his wounds.
Alas, there was no time for mourning. Lieutenants of the madman were nearby and needed to be dealt with. My new companions helped me carry Thelonious the Blue's body back to town. Upon nearing the center of the village, we could see a large crowd had gathered. It appeared that the entire town was in the main square beneath the tower where the foul evildoers lived. I suppose it stands to reason that the sorcerer who killed Thelonious would have warned his followers, but the craven absurdity to use the entire town as a shield was shocking. We did our best to approach the tower without harming the townsfolk (who very recently had been inhabitants of the local forest), but our efforts were in vain as a fireball came floating down from the top of the tower. Trained as we are in the arts of combat, my companions and I avoided the worst of the flames. The villagers were not so fortunate. I attempted to assault the tower, calling on Moradin to grant me the ability to walk on air, but before I could reach striking distance, one of the knaves on the tower dispelled my god's magic. The battle raged on as I attempted to scale the building through more mundane means. Magicks were cast back and forth, and the tower was set ablaze as the caitiffs began to flee. Of the three, one had fallen in battle, one took flight in the form of a vrock, and the third opened up a portal to avoid our wrath. Unwilling to see any information about our opponents be destroyed in the flames, I called on Moradin once again, asking him to flood the tower with water. As we searched the building, we found but one clue: a piece of paper with the madman's name written on it. Tyeladil Ilmueweke or somesuch. He'll rue the day. The village was in shambles. It appeared that all the villagers had died in the battle. Pity that. I suppose the elves will be able to live in peace now. There was little reason nor inclination for us to remain in Ossington, so we decided to return to Brindenford and await the return of Nalathisor. Trackbacks
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