I am IorithMagnus, but you may call me “Magnus” or “Mr. DM, sir.” Journey to Escheron is one of three homebrew campaigns in my world of Gallyria. There will be more to come in the future.
Heroes
Kotog (played by Ismenow) Norak (played by WhiteHart79) Radar (played by King_Krim) Tanwar (played by Furujiru) Tarth Sootblood (played by Bounces)
Chapter 1
The Orclands is a barren desert, almost a wasteland, that was settled by orcs very long ago. The clans that live there have a myriad of customs, traditions, and laws to abide by. One such tradition is that anything other than peace will not be tolerated within the holy place they call the Temple of Nishrek. The Temple of Nishrek is a peaceful gathering spot where no orc may argue with one another and someone who incites violence in it is condemned. It is the only place believed by the desert’s inhabitants to be built by their gods, led by Gruumsh, that reside on the plane of Nishrek. Out of the 12 Orc clans, the 5 biggest clans almost never meet each other formally. They rarely even fight one another to preserve their strengths. The last time they met was half a century before this story’s events.
However, for some reason, the natural magic that flows within the Orclands has been chaotic in recent times. The orcs believe they have done something to upset their deities, as the magic has been corrupting, warping, and killing those who use it. As the chiefs of the 5 great clans are slowly giving in to the fear that their beloved gods have abandoned them, they have decided to meet once more in the Temple of Nishrek, to find the best course of action. Each chief enters through a different entrance, and they all end up in one big room in the center of the temple, accompanied by their clans’ shamans and one of their warriors.
Kotog, you arrive first, with your chief, Harak, and your clan’s warrior, Borran. Norak, you enter with your chief, Uro, and his adviser, Zotu. Radar, you come in with the shaman Aeruk and your chief, Tanot. Tarth, you follow behind your chief, Mak, and your shaman, Hergog, both of which shoot you a look of disdain.
You all enter the room and immediately take in the nice smell of the room, exhaling with a sense of ease. Your chiefs all sit down, with the shamans on the left side of each chief and their warriors on the right side. Harak speaks up, “We must wait for—“ and a door bursts open. Lotho, alongside his warrior Roga and adviser Ekk, enter, taking their positions. Once the chiefs get settled in, they begin discussing the magical “plague” around the Orclands and what to do. Ultimately, they decide that their warriors will go out in search of a solution. And so, the story begins.
Tarth, Radar, Norak, Borran, and Roga are the warriors that will go out on this adventure. As all of the orcs leave the temple, Borran attempts to show off his magical prowess to the other warriors in an attempt to brag. A light blue orb grows in his palms, becoming the size of his head. As Borran raises the orb towards the sun, the orb quickly turns bright orange. The orb goes out of control, slamming into Borran’s chest and flying straight up. The orb dissipates, dropping Borran 50ft. You all hear a sickening crunch as his body hits the top of the temple and slides off, bloodying the sand around his corpse. What will you do?
Kotog is an older grey haired orc, though still in fighting shape. He's wearing no armor and carrying an old, weathered spear the point of which has broken off years ago leaving a metal tipped quarterstaff. He will look to his chief, "Chief Harak, I told you he was not ready for something as important as this. He was too young, too eager to waste his time showing off and too arrogant to be wary of the dangers. I offer again, I am not too old for this journey, I have studied more of the lore than most, allow me to accompany these youngsters and keep watch on them that we might find the answers we need."
Radar watches the young warrior as he goes to show off. Wondering why youth is always in a rush. When the crunch of the body hitting the temple occurs, barely a flicker of a grimace can be seen on Radar's face. He draws an imposing view to those who look at him. Taller than most half-orcs, he stands toe-to-toe with even the tallest full blooded orc. He is a wall of muscle, but manages to give off the appearance of speed in the way he moves. Wearing flowing robes over his armor and using his long glaive as a walking stick, he almost looks at times deadly and peaceful. Serene in knowing the path he walks is blessed by Gruumsh.
While not used to being so restricted, Radar defers to his own chieftain on the matter. Radar is used to being free from his clan's command structure, answering directly to his god. He turns to his chieftain to offer advice, not commands.
"Chief Tanot, I believe Kotog's aid would be extremely useful in this situation. If the rumors I have heard in my travels are even half true, he would be a great addition to our mission." Radar bows his head slightly after speaking, showing due reverence without showing weakness.
Tarth watches dispationately as the orc known as Borran dies in horrific fashion. Without blinking he turns to his chief.
"Thank you again for this opportunity to prove my worth to the clan, chief. I promise to do my best to bring honor to our name; and not kill myself or those around me through foolishness."
His voice is a strange, while speaking at normal volume, he gives the impression of someone whispering so as not to disturb those around him.
The half-orc is a pale grey color, not an entirely healthy skin tone. His tanned leather armor is a patchwork of various animal skins. A mace and a pair of daggers are arrayed about his body, but he walks with a strange posture indicating he is ill-used to the extra encumberance. He does not bare himself as a warrior ready to make use of the weapons should the need arise. A shortbow and quiver of arrows hang from his back, but the string hangs loose, also not ready for use.
He carries with him a cracked black leather book, clutched to his chest in one arm as if subconsciously scared that someone might try to steal it. Throughout the conversation inside the temple and the exit from the edifice the book has never once left his grasp.
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Chief Tanot looks to Radar. “You think an old orc will be helpful to you? If that’s what you want, I will speak to Harak. He’s not mine, after all.” Tanot leaves Radar’s side, beckoning Harak to speak with him.
Harak watches with a pit in his stomach as the young Borren’s bones shatter upon impact. With Kotog’s second offer, he does not move. His gaze stays on Borren’s destroyed body. “You’re one of my trusted advisors. Wouldn’t I be a fool to let you go on this mission to your inevitable doom? The gods have not abandoned us,” he shakes his head, his gaze still on Borren, “No, they have started killing us. They want to begin again. They have forsaken us.” He looks away from the blood oozing out of the gruesomely broken body and sees Tanot waving him over. “One second.” He leaves Kotog’s side to talk with Chief Tanot.
The two orc chiefs talk to one another for a few minutes, then they each return to their clan’s path. Kotog, as Harak walks back towards you, you can see him give you a small, almost invisible, nod. Harak declares, “My sage, Kotog, will take poor Borren’s place in this journey. I must carry his body back myself to give him a proper burial.” He grabs one of Borren’s arms and pulls him down. He throws the corpse over his shoulder and begins walking down the path in the direction of his clan’s territory.
You four have been left alone by your chiefs and shamans, and may now begin your journey. You must find the cause of the haywire magic and do anything you can to fix it. Kotog, as the chiefs walk away, your legs give out. You use your quarterstaff to support you and your new companions see your eyes turn milky white.
Kotog
Your eyes turn milky white, as a series of images begin flashing in your mind. Though you will remember all of the images you see now, you only recognize a few. The rest will come to you later.
From the flashing images, you make out a location somewhere in the desert. The sands are pitch black, as if the ground itself is a void. You see some kind of strange tree in the center of the black sand. You recognize this place as the legendary Grove of Shargaas. The next image you see is the face of an orc about your age, looking grizzled and with gray hair.
You know this orc to be Tanwar, a former member of your clan, who left after being ignored multiple times by the former chief, the one who came before Harak. Tanwar attempted several times to warn that chief that something was wrong, that he had received a vision from Shargaas himself about a threat that could destroy all orcs, but the chief shrugged him off and refused to listen. And so, Tanwar left in self-imposed exile.
You get the feeling that you need to find him, wherever this Grove of Shargaas is.
Kotog will pull himself together, shaking his head and looking at the others, “Shargaas, the god of night and darkness, has a holy place called the Grove of Shargaas where we might find one of his chosen, Tanwar, a former clanmate of mine who has been living in exile after our previous chief ignored his warnings of coming disaster. It seems he was right and this disaster has found us. So brave ones, who knows where the Grove is?” Leaving the others to think about things, he will move over to his mule, making sure its packs are tightly secured and prepared for travel.
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Radar reaches back to the time he spent as a child learning with the shamans. Thinking back on those memories feel like a warm embrace as he searches for any mention of the Grove of Shargaas.
You close your eyes. As you try to remember your teachings, you feel Gruumsh’s presence in front of you. You open your eyes and see complete darkness, with only one path in the sand still visible. You get the feeling Gruumsh is guiding you.
Radar's eyes, normally a dark iris trapped in a pool of white, slowly become filled with black. He mumbles to himself as he looks around. Eventually his eyes return to their original color.
"It appears the gods are on our sides. Gruumsh has show me the way." He points in the direction of the path he had seen. "Our travels take us this way."
"Good, this bodes well for our journey. Lead the way warrior Radar, we shall follow." And Kotog will move to bring up the rear with his mule, gesturing for the other two to take the middle positions.
Tarth seems uneasy having someone behind him, he follows behind Radar and the others, being the second to last in the line. But he walks slightly to the East of the others, just a few feet away where he can have Kotog in his periphery while still technically being ahead of him.
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Norak, while not young, should not look as haggard as he does. He is gaunt for an orc and stands even a bit hunched, as though the things he has been through and done have taken it's toll on his body. He walks with a staff and a cloth over his shoulders and head, various bones and charms hang loosely from him in various locations. Watching the young Borran kill himself, Norak's lip curls slightly at the edge. If they were not in this holy temple he would make preparations to untether and bind the fools soul, such a foolhardy and naive soul would be worth much.
He listens in rapt attention and maybe a little too inquisitively as first Kotog and then Radar speak about visions. He had heard in passing about these two older orckin and had always wanted to see them work and here was his chance. Still having not said anything since they all met Norak slips quietly in to group as they begin their trek walking behind Radar.
He had waited for this moment. He had warned his former clan of the dangers of magic. Such power belonged to the gods alone and if the Orcs were to try and wrestle control of magic from them, the gods would forsake the Orcs. They did not listen.
The desert wind swelled to a gale and rattled the bones that adorned his body. Their clattering spoke of a warrior's death. He grinned.
The orcs followed the path Radar had seen, unsure of whether he was crazy or actually telling the truth, but it was the only lead they had. They trekked through the desert, the bones they wore clattered together with each step.
By the end of the second day, as the last sliver of sun disappeared under the horizon, the orcs felt something mystical nearby. As you all continue walking a little longer, Radar suddenly disappears in front of your very eyes. You keep going, as you have indeed found the Grove of Shargaas. Each of you vanish from the face of the earth, with Roga behind you. When you enter the grove, you are all blind.
In this magical darkness, you can barely see 5ft in front of you.
In the darkness, you hear Roga’s voice behind you. “I feel like something’s watching me.” You hear him fall on the ground with a thump. You hear him jump up, then the sound of metal sliding out as he unsheathes his axe. You all get the feeling you are being watched.
Radar, as you are at the very front of the line, you see in the 5ft ahead of you, there is a meditating being. As you get closer, you see it is an orc, similar in appearance to Kotog.
He took a deep breath and whispered something into the darkness. His eyes opened and they shimmered as two blood red orbs in the dark. 'Who enters the Grove of the Night Lord?' Tanwar boomed, his eyes and voice amplified under the effects of a Thaumaturgy spell.
Radar tries to keep a steady pace as he walks through the magical darkness. Eventually spotting the meditating orc, he turns to the others and calls them to him. Waiting until all have reached him, he moves forward to this meditating orc. He kneels down in front of him and begins to pray.
Tarth is at once both ill at ease and comfortably at home in the darkness. Something of the magical darkness calls to his soul and makes him want to wander away from the others and lose himself to it. But that would not fulfill his promise to his chief, and duty had to come first.
Following the sounds of the others, he finds himself uncomfortably close to everyone else, the darkness forcing them to close ranks just to see eachother. Just at the furthest extent of his vision he sees the 5th orc in his posture of meditation. He remains quiet for the time being, content to observe and prepare to defend himself, his hands clutching the dark tome as if it were a weapon.
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Brief introduction
I am IorithMagnus, but you may call me “Magnus” or “Mr. DM, sir.” Journey to Escheron is one of three homebrew campaigns in my world of Gallyria. There will be more to come in the future.
Heroes
Kotog (played by Ismenow)
Norak (played by WhiteHart79)
Radar (played by King_Krim)
Tanwar (played by Furujiru)
Tarth Sootblood (played by Bounces)
Chapter 1
The Orclands is a barren desert, almost a wasteland, that was settled by orcs very long ago. The clans that live there have a myriad of customs, traditions, and laws to abide by. One such tradition is that anything other than peace will not be tolerated within the holy place they call the Temple of Nishrek. The Temple of Nishrek is a peaceful gathering spot where no orc may argue with one another and someone who incites violence in it is condemned. It is the only place believed by the desert’s inhabitants to be built by their gods, led by Gruumsh, that reside on the plane of Nishrek. Out of the 12 Orc clans, the 5 biggest clans almost never meet each other formally. They rarely even fight one another to preserve their strengths. The last time they met was half a century before this story’s events.
However, for some reason, the natural magic that flows within the Orclands has been chaotic in recent times. The orcs believe they have done something to upset their deities, as the magic has been corrupting, warping, and killing those who use it. As the chiefs of the 5 great clans are slowly giving in to the fear that their beloved gods have abandoned them, they have decided to meet once more in the Temple of Nishrek, to find the best course of action. Each chief enters through a different entrance, and they all end up in one big room in the center of the temple, accompanied by their clans’ shamans and one of their warriors.
Kotog, you arrive first, with your chief, Harak, and your clan’s warrior, Borran.
Norak, you enter with your chief, Uro, and his adviser, Zotu.
Radar, you come in with the shaman Aeruk and your chief, Tanot.
Tarth, you follow behind your chief, Mak, and your shaman, Hergog, both of which shoot you a look of disdain.
You all enter the room and immediately take in the nice smell of the room, exhaling with a sense of ease. Your chiefs all sit down, with the shamans on the left side of each chief and their warriors on the right side. Harak speaks up, “We must wait for—“ and a door bursts open. Lotho, alongside his warrior Roga and adviser Ekk, enter, taking their positions. Once the chiefs get settled in, they begin discussing the magical “plague” around the Orclands and what to do. Ultimately, they decide that their warriors will go out in search of a solution. And so, the story begins.
Tarth, Radar, Norak, Borran, and Roga are the warriors that will go out on this adventure. As all of the orcs leave the temple, Borran attempts to show off his magical prowess to the other warriors in an attempt to brag. A light blue orb grows in his palms, becoming the size of his head. As Borran raises the orb towards the sun, the orb quickly turns bright orange. The orb goes out of control, slamming into Borran’s chest and flying straight up. The orb dissipates, dropping Borran 50ft. You all hear a sickening crunch as his body hits the top of the temple and slides off, bloodying the sand around his corpse. What will you do?
Kotog is an older grey haired orc, though still in fighting shape. He's wearing no armor and carrying an old, weathered spear the point of which has broken off years ago leaving a metal tipped quarterstaff. He will look to his chief, "Chief Harak, I told you he was not ready for something as important as this. He was too young, too eager to waste his time showing off and too arrogant to be wary of the dangers. I offer again, I am not too old for this journey, I have studied more of the lore than most, allow me to accompany these youngsters and keep watch on them that we might find the answers we need."
Radar watches the young warrior as he goes to show off. Wondering why youth is always in a rush. When the crunch of the body hitting the temple occurs, barely a flicker of a grimace can be seen on Radar's face. He draws an imposing view to those who look at him. Taller than most half-orcs, he stands toe-to-toe with even the tallest full blooded orc. He is a wall of muscle, but manages to give off the appearance of speed in the way he moves. Wearing flowing robes over his armor and using his long glaive as a walking stick, he almost looks at times deadly and peaceful. Serene in knowing the path he walks is blessed by Gruumsh.
While not used to being so restricted, Radar defers to his own chieftain on the matter. Radar is used to being free from his clan's command structure, answering directly to his god. He turns to his chieftain to offer advice, not commands.
"Chief Tanot, I believe Kotog's aid would be extremely useful in this situation. If the rumors I have heard in my travels are even half true, he would be a great addition to our mission." Radar bows his head slightly after speaking, showing due reverence without showing weakness.
Tarth watches dispationately as the orc known as Borran dies in horrific fashion. Without blinking he turns to his chief.
"Thank you again for this opportunity to prove my worth to the clan, chief. I promise to do my best to bring honor to our name; and not kill myself or those around me through foolishness."
His voice is a strange, while speaking at normal volume, he gives the impression of someone whispering so as not to disturb those around him.
The half-orc is a pale grey color, not an entirely healthy skin tone. His tanned leather armor is a patchwork of various animal skins. A mace and a pair of daggers are arrayed about his body, but he walks with a strange posture indicating he is ill-used to the extra encumberance. He does not bare himself as a warrior ready to make use of the weapons should the need arise. A shortbow and quiver of arrows hang from his back, but the string hangs loose, also not ready for use.
He carries with him a cracked black leather book, clutched to his chest in one arm as if subconsciously scared that someone might try to steal it. Throughout the conversation inside the temple and the exit from the edifice the book has never once left his grasp.
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Chief Tanot looks to Radar. “You think an old orc will be helpful to you? If that’s what you want, I will speak to Harak. He’s not mine, after all.” Tanot leaves Radar’s side, beckoning Harak to speak with him.
Harak watches with a pit in his stomach as the young Borren’s bones shatter upon impact. With Kotog’s second offer, he does not move. His gaze stays on Borren’s destroyed body. “You’re one of my trusted advisors. Wouldn’t I be a fool to let you go on this mission to your inevitable doom? The gods have not abandoned us,” he shakes his head, his gaze still on Borren, “No, they have started killing us. They want to begin again. They have forsaken us.” He looks away from the blood oozing out of the gruesomely broken body and sees Tanot waving him over. “One second.” He leaves Kotog’s side to talk with Chief Tanot.
The two orc chiefs talk to one another for a few minutes, then they each return to their clan’s path. Kotog, as Harak walks back towards you, you can see him give you a small, almost invisible, nod. Harak declares, “My sage, Kotog, will take poor Borren’s place in this journey. I must carry his body back myself to give him a proper burial.” He grabs one of Borren’s arms and pulls him down. He throws the corpse over his shoulder and begins walking down the path in the direction of his clan’s territory.
You four have been left alone by your chiefs and shamans, and may now begin your journey. You must find the cause of the haywire magic and do anything you can to fix it. Kotog, as the chiefs walk away, your legs give out. You use your quarterstaff to support you and your new companions see your eyes turn milky white.
Kotog
Your eyes turn milky white, as a series of images begin flashing in your mind. Though you will remember all of the images you see now, you only recognize a few. The rest will come to you later.
From the flashing images, you make out a location somewhere in the desert. The sands are pitch black, as if the ground itself is a void. You see some kind of strange tree in the center of the black sand. You recognize this place as the legendary Grove of Shargaas. The next image you see is the face of an orc about your age, looking grizzled and with gray hair.
You know this orc to be Tanwar, a former member of your clan, who left after being ignored multiple times by the former chief, the one who came before Harak. Tanwar attempted several times to warn that chief that something was wrong, that he had received a vision from Shargaas himself about a threat that could destroy all orcs, but the chief shrugged him off and refused to listen. And so, Tanwar left in self-imposed exile.
You get the feeling that you need to find him, wherever this Grove of Shargaas is.
Kotog will pull himself together, shaking his head and looking at the others, “Shargaas, the god of night and darkness, has a holy place called the Grove of Shargaas where we might find one of his chosen, Tanwar, a former clanmate of mine who has been living in exile after our previous chief ignored his warnings of coming disaster. It seems he was right and this disaster has found us. So brave ones, who knows where the Grove is?” Leaving the others to think about things, he will move over to his mule, making sure its packs are tightly secured and prepared for travel.
Radar reaches back to the time he spent as a child learning with the shamans. Thinking back on those memories feel like a warm embrace as he searches for any mention of the Grove of Shargaas.
Religion: 19
Radar
You close your eyes. As you try to remember your teachings, you feel Gruumsh’s presence in front of you. You open your eyes and see complete darkness, with only one path in the sand still visible. You get the feeling Gruumsh is guiding you.
Radar's eyes, normally a dark iris trapped in a pool of white, slowly become filled with black. He mumbles to himself as he looks around. Eventually his eyes return to their original color.
"It appears the gods are on our sides. Gruumsh has show me the way." He points in the direction of the path he had seen. "Our travels take us this way."
"Good, this bodes well for our journey. Lead the way warrior Radar, we shall follow." And Kotog will move to bring up the rear with his mule, gesturing for the other two to take the middle positions.
Tarth seems uneasy having someone behind him, he follows behind Radar and the others, being the second to last in the line. But he walks slightly to the East of the others, just a few feet away where he can have Kotog in his periphery while still technically being ahead of him.
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Norak, while not young, should not look as haggard as he does. He is gaunt for an orc and stands even a bit hunched, as though the things he has been through and done have taken it's toll on his body. He walks with a staff and a cloth over his shoulders and head, various bones and charms hang loosely from him in various locations. Watching the young Borran kill himself, Norak's lip curls slightly at the edge. If they were not in this holy temple he would make preparations to untether and bind the fools soul, such a foolhardy and naive soul would be worth much.
He listens in rapt attention and maybe a little too inquisitively as first Kotog and then Radar speak about visions. He had heard in passing about these two older orckin and had always wanted to see them work and here was his chance. Still having not said anything since they all met Norak slips quietly in to group as they begin their trek walking behind Radar.
Tanwar stood and listened.
He had waited for this moment. He had warned his former clan of the dangers of magic. Such power belonged to the gods alone and if the Orcs were to try and wrestle control of magic from them, the gods would forsake the Orcs. They did not listen.
The desert wind swelled to a gale and rattled the bones that adorned his body. Their clattering spoke of a warrior's death. He grinned.
Tanwar stood in darkness and waited.
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
The orcs followed the path Radar had seen, unsure of whether he was crazy or actually telling the truth, but it was the only lead they had. They trekked through the desert, the bones they wore clattered together with each step.
By the end of the second day, as the last sliver of sun disappeared under the horizon, the orcs felt something mystical nearby. As you all continue walking a little longer, Radar suddenly disappears in front of your very eyes. You keep going, as you have indeed found the Grove of Shargaas. Each of you vanish from the face of the earth, with Roga behind you. When you enter the grove, you are all blind.
In this magical darkness, you can barely see 5ft in front of you.
Startled by the lack of light, even more so that his natural darkvision does not extinguish the darkness Norak grips his staff tightly and on edge.
"What is this magics? How dare they surround us in this darkness. Can anyone see anything?" He of course speaks in Orcish.
In the darkness, you hear Roga’s voice behind you. “I feel like something’s watching me.” You hear him fall on the ground with a thump. You hear him jump up, then the sound of metal sliding out as he unsheathes his axe. You all get the feeling you are being watched.
Radar, as you are at the very front of the line, you see in the 5ft ahead of you, there is a meditating being. As you get closer, you see it is an orc, similar in appearance to Kotog.
They had arrived, as Tanwar knew they would.
He took a deep breath and whispered something into the darkness. His eyes opened and they shimmered as two blood red orbs in the dark.
'Who enters the Grove of the Night Lord?' Tanwar boomed, his eyes and voice amplified under the effects of a Thaumaturgy spell.
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
"Roga you lout, stay on your feet," Norak hissed behind him as he continued forward.
"We are Orckin like yourself, come due a vision. Speak your peace and let us carry on our quest," he said in his throaty voice to the figure ahead.
Radar tries to keep a steady pace as he walks through the magical darkness. Eventually spotting the meditating orc, he turns to the others and calls them to him. Waiting until all have reached him, he moves forward to this meditating orc. He kneels down in front of him and begins to pray.
Tarth is at once both ill at ease and comfortably at home in the darkness. Something of the magical darkness calls to his soul and makes him want to wander away from the others and lose himself to it. But that would not fulfill his promise to his chief, and duty had to come first.
Following the sounds of the others, he finds himself uncomfortably close to everyone else, the darkness forcing them to close ranks just to see eachother. Just at the furthest extent of his vision he sees the 5th orc in his posture of meditation. He remains quiet for the time being, content to observe and prepare to defend himself, his hands clutching the dark tome as if it were a weapon.
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