“What. A. Day.“ I half mumble, half sigh as I walk out of the Laughing Pegasus (the only tavern in Waterdeep worth going to). It was time for me to head back to my workshop, and prepare for tomorrow for what was sure to be another bleak and boring day. As I walk towards my shop I start going through what I still need to fix, what supplies I need to buy and so on. As I think to myself I stop when I hear a voice in the crowd that I haven’t heard in decades. This voice contains the gruffness and *cough* vocabulary of one who has worked on the sea for some time but also the unmistakable air of one who has the blood of a high elf. I stop dead in my tracks and look as to where the voice is coming from and sure enough...
“Theren!”, I exclaim. I run over to my old friend of whom we have shared many adventures together, and embrace him. As I take a step back I see , to my surprise, he is with none other than Dorn, a man whom I had served alongside of in a militia about 8 years prior. As I greet them both and exchange pleasantries Theren explains to me that he and Dorn have caught wind of some stirrings and dark happenings around an old church on the outskirts, and that they are going to check it out. “ As a paladin, I feel it my responsibility I check out something like this, as it is a spiritual matter “, Dorn tells me. I offer to join them, and without hesitation they accept. “Finally some action” I say with a little too much excitement. “Boys” I say, “Let’s go to church”
The path dwindles and the sky is less visible. We’re close, I sense it.
As we walk the trail before us we finally arrive at the old church. What was probably once a holy place that held many a service to its designated deity, now looks as if it has been corrupted and warped. Maybe it’s always been this way, but whatever it may have been is definitely now giving off a sinister and wicked feeling. I suddenly feel as I did when I was being taunted and jeered our by those disgusting circus freaks some weeks back at that festival from hell, and I immediately go on high alert. The air is thicker here, and it seems that the fog is gaining as well. Why is there always fog? Why can’t a quest against dark forces have a nice sunny day? As we get closer we see what was once a graveyard, and there’s something else but what?
We’re not alone.
We see two, what seems to be men, standing there. They are holding the leashes of two rothes, a devilish ox like creature, and in this case devilish is accurate. Someone raised these beasts from the dead but didn’t seem to have the decency to sow them back together properly. We all three stop. We look at each other, than back at the two, now obviously gaunt and creepy men,and in those three seconds we looked at each other the have pulled out these scimitars and and have to look of bloodlust in their eyes. In a flash I have a dagger in my hand, Dorn has his javelin and shield out, and Theren (being a wizard) has his speed book out ready for action.
What we thought would be a quick fight turns out to be one that tests our mettle. We battle long and hard. Dorn manages on his first throw to strike the first assailant straight through the heart and kill him. I move up alongside of him and after tousling with the first rothe for a bit, I manage to bring one of my short swords down upon the other with all of my strength and strike him dead where he stands. This took longer than I had thought, for what appeared to be a weaker man turned out to be pretty adept as he dodged one of my daggers and was able to hold me off for a brief moment before I slew him. As for the rothes they beat us up pretty good, and by “us” I mean Dorn and I. Theren, barely looking up from his spell book, was able to blast the first beast with bolts of blue energy and implode the creatures head. After several bouts with the other I am not gaining any and Dorn seems like he is about to pass out. Theren looks up and has the audacity to say, “how are things going?” I chuckle and say, “We could use a little help”. He looks at the rothe. He raises his hand, a ball of bright orange fire bursts to life in his palm and with one flick of his wrist sends it streaming towards the demon and we watch as it becomes totally consumed in flames. Satisfied with his work Theren says, "nice" then proceeds to continue his reading.
Having vanquished our foes I go over to them and search for anything useful and only come up with a set of keys. They must be for the church. I look over to my companions. One is kneeling and catching his breath while the other is consumed with his studies. I look to the church.
“Who’s there??” Calls out a voice from the forest. You would think that after fighting what we just fought I would be a little more hesitant but this voice I knew. “Quarion!” I yell back with a smile. It seems as if it is a day for seeing old friends. He walks out of the forest steely eyed but also with a tug of a grin on his face. We clasp hands and I explain to him what had just happened and why Dorn is about to keel over. Theren barely looks up. Having regained our strength we four go into the church and see a set of stairs. We all (except the oblivious Theren) look at each other and descend into the cold sub level.
When we finally reach the bottom it is obvious that we have entered a crypt. No sooner do our feet land than a raving lunatic, with the air of something much darker than mere madness, comes at us and yells “Protect the braziers!” We all brace ourselves, but the man being not a complete idiot goes for the one of us that isn’t quite prepared. He swipes at Theren and as he does so I see a shadow figure of a claw slash through my longtime friend. Theren obviously perturbed at this recites a spell and waves his pen. The man immediately collapses there and begins laughing horribly.
“There’s a Dark spirit in here!” Yells Quarion, something of a magic wiz himself, “He must be connected to the braziers somehow. We need to knock them all down!” As soon as the last word leaves his mouth we are attacked by two more acolytes, like the ones who attracted us in the graveyard. This time I’m ready. I quickly draw my shorts words and take one of them out and with the help of Dorn make short work of the second. " Ughh. I hate magic." I groan to myself.
We split up and take either side of the cavernous crypt encountering several more acolytes all the while trying to take out each blazing, yet light sucking, brazier. Dorn and I take one side while Theren and Quarion take the other.
Dorn and I have reached the final brazier. But there is one final acolyte guarding it. Feeling good, and I’ll admit a little cocky, I turn to Dorn and say “Watch this” with a smirk on my face. I zero in on the brazier. I ready myself. I run. I ran faster than I have ever run in my life. I see the scimitar of the acolyte before he’s even started the swing. I slide under and arrive at the brazier. With a mighty shove I send it toppling, but I feel a sharp twinge in the front of my head. I shake it off, turn around and dash back dodging another blow and arrive relatively unharmed back at Dorn. No sooner had I stopped running do I draw my dagger turn and throw it right at the acolyte, with a satisfying THUD it sinks in between the eyes of the filthy cretin. I look at Dorn, look back at the body, walk over and retrieve my blade.
All while this was happening our other two companions had been fighting there own battles. I suddenly remember the laughing acolyte and am running back to him when I hear yelling from Quarion, a loud demonic shriek, and then a flash filling the whole crypt! When I return to the laughing man, the others getting back soon after, he seems to be different. He seems confused and less.... demony. Through he is still laughing, which Theren swears will wear off. He thanks us for chasing off the demon (apparently there was a demon), and killing the members of his cult. He rewards us pretty well and we leave him to his duties.
Hearing of our venture we are sought out by a woman who says she is a member of a guild called the Harper's. I assume she is some patron of the church or other. She thanks us for ridding that place of the forces plaguing it, and in return hands us all what she calls Scrolls of Pedigree. She tells us if we ever wish to join the Harper's then we are welcome to.
After this I return to Waterdeep and head straight back for the Laughing Pegasus. That was a little to much magic for this elf.
“What. A. Day.“ I half mumble, half sigh as I walk out of the Laughing Pegasus (the only tavern in Waterdeep worth going to). It was time for me to head back to my workshop, and prepare for tomorrow for what was sure to be another bleak and boring day. As I walk towards my shop I start going through what I still need to fix, what supplies I need to buy and so on. As I think to myself I stop when I hear a voice in the crowd that I haven’t heard in decades. This voice contains the gruffness and *cough* vocabulary of one who has worked on the sea for some time but also the unmistakable air of one who has the blood of a high elf. I stop dead in my tracks and look as to where the voice is coming from and sure enough...
“Theren!”, I exclaim. I run over to my old friend of whom we have shared many adventures together, and embrace him. As I take a step back I see , to my surprise, he is with none other than Dorn, a man whom I had served alongside of in a militia about 8 years prior. As I greet them both and exchange pleasantries Theren explains to me that he and Dorn have caught wind of some stirrings and dark happenings around an old church on the outskirts, and that they are going to check it out. “ As a paladin, I feel it my responsibility I check out something like this, as it is a spiritual matter “, Dorn tells me. I offer to join them, and without hesitation they accept. “Finally some action” I say with a little too much excitement. “Boys” I say, “Let’s go to church”
The path dwindles and the sky is less visible. We’re close, I sense it.
As we walk the trail before us we finally arrive at the old church. What was probably once a holy place that held many a service to its designated deity, now looks as if it has been corrupted and warped. Maybe it’s always been this way, but whatever it may have been is definitely now giving off a sinister and wicked feeling. I suddenly feel as I did when I was being taunted and jeered our by those disgusting circus freaks some weeks back at that festival from hell, and I immediately go on high alert. The air is thicker here, and it seems that the fog is gaining as well. Why is there always fog? Why can’t a quest against dark forces have a nice sunny day? As we get closer we see what was once a graveyard, and there’s something else but what?
We’re not alone.
We see two, what seems to be men, standing there. They are holding the leashes of two rothes, a devilish ox like creature, and in this case devilish is accurate. Someone raised these beasts from the dead but didn’t seem to have the decency to sow them back together properly. We all three stop. We look at each other, than back at the two, now obviously gaunt and creepy men,and in those three seconds we looked at each other the have pulled out these scimitars and and have to look of bloodlust in their eyes. In a flash I have a dagger in my hand, Dorn has his javelin and shield out, and Theren (being a wizard) has his speed book out ready for action.
What we thought would be a quick fight turns out to be one that tests our mettle. We battle long and hard. Dorn manages on his first throw to strike the first assailant straight through the heart and kill him. I move up alongside of him and after tousling with the first rothe for a bit, I manage to bring one of my short swords down upon the other with all of my strength and strike him dead where he stands. This took longer than I had thought, for what appeared to be a weaker man turned out to be pretty adept as he dodged one of my daggers and was able to hold me off for a brief moment before I slew him. As for the rothes they beat us up pretty good, and by “us” I mean Dorn and I. Theren, barely looking up from his spell book, was able to blast the first beast with bolts of blue energy and implode the creatures head. After several bouts with the other I am not gaining any and Dorn seems like he is about to pass out. Theren looks up and has the audacity to say, “how are things going?” I chuckle and say, “We could use a little help”. He looks at the rothe. He raises his hand, a ball of bright orange fire bursts to life in his palm and with one flick of his wrist sends it streaming towards the demon and we watch as it becomes totally consumed in flames. Satisfied with his work Theren says, "nice" then proceeds to continue his reading.
Having vanquished our foes I go over to them and search for anything useful and only come up with a set of keys. They must be for the church. I look over to my companions. One is kneeling and catching his breath while the other is consumed with his studies. I look to the church.
“Who’s there??” Calls out a voice from the forest. You would think that after fighting what we just fought I would be a little more hesitant but this voice I knew. “Quarion!” I yell back with a smile. It seems as if it is a day for seeing old friends. He walks out of the forest steely eyed but also with a tug of a grin on his face. We clasp hands and I explain to him what had just happened and why Dorn is about to keel over. Theren barely looks up. Having regained our strength we four go into the church and see a set of stairs. We all (except the oblivious Theren) look at each other and descend into the cold sub level.
When we finally reach the bottom it is obvious that we have entered a crypt. No sooner do our feet land than a raving lunatic, with the air of something much darker than mere madness, comes at us and yells “Protect the braziers!” We all brace ourselves, but the man being not a complete idiot goes for the one of us that isn’t quite prepared. He swipes at Theren and as he does so I see a shadow figure of a claw slash through my longtime friend. Theren obviously perturbed at this recites a spell and waves his pen. The man immediately collapses there and begins laughing horribly.
“There’s a Dark spirit in here!” Yells Quarion, something of a magic wiz himself, “He must be connected to the braziers somehow. We need to knock them all down!” As soon as the last word leaves his mouth we are attacked by two more acolytes, like the ones who attracted us in the graveyard. This time I’m ready. I quickly draw my shorts words and take one of them out and with the help of Dorn make short work of the second. " Ughh. I hate magic." I groan to myself.
We split up and take either side of the cavernous crypt encountering several more acolytes all the while trying to take out each blazing, yet light sucking, brazier. Dorn and I take one side while Theren and Quarion take the other.
Dorn and I have reached the final brazier. But there is one final acolyte guarding it. Feeling good, and I’ll admit a little cocky, I turn to Dorn and say “Watch this” with a smirk on my face. I zero in on the brazier. I ready myself. I run. I ran faster than I have ever run in my life. I see the scimitar of the acolyte before he’s even started the swing. I slide under and arrive at the brazier. With a mighty shove I send it toppling, but I feel a sharp twinge in the front of my head. I shake it off, turn around and dash back dodging another blow and arrive relatively unharmed back at Dorn. No sooner had I stopped running do I draw my dagger turn and throw it right at the acolyte, with a satisfying THUD it sinks in between the eyes of the filthy cretin. I look at Dorn, look back at the body, walk over and retrieve my blade.
All while this was happening our other two companions had been fighting there own battles. I suddenly remember the laughing acolyte and am running back to him when I hear yelling from Quarion, a loud demonic shriek, and then a flash filling the whole crypt! When I return to the laughing man, the others getting back soon after, he seems to be different. He seems confused and less.... demony. Through he is still laughing, which Theren swears will wear off. He thanks us for chasing off the demon (apparently there was a demon), and killing the members of his cult. He rewards us pretty well and we leave him to his duties.
Hearing of our venture we are sought out by a woman who says she is a member of a guild called the Harper's. I assume she is some patron of the church or other. She thanks us for ridding that place of the forces plaguing it, and in return hands us all what she calls Scrolls of Pedigree. She tells us if we ever wish to join the Harper's then we are welcome to.
After this I return to Waterdeep and head straight back for the Laughing Pegasus. That was a little to much magic for this elf.
-Erevan Galonodel “E.G.”