An eight-legged meeting... in Harken Forest

Notebook:

We've all listened to these bedtime stories when we were kids. "Boy Who Cried Spider", "Little Red Battle Helmet", "The Dwarf Princess and The Spider", and so on. Every time I went out with my friends, being just a very young dwarfling, my dad often said: "Don't go anywhere near to the Harken Forest, there are eight-legged monsters there, just waiting to suck all the blood from young, suculent dwarflings!" I always thought that those stories and sayings were just, well, fairytales (spidertales, perhaps?).
Who would have thought that I would actually see some of these tales come true. Well, almost.

We decided that it was time to save Tarim, the herb-gatherer who got missing somewhere near Deklo Grove in the Harken Forest threee days ago. And so we went there, not knowing whether the man was still alive. We are the brave heroes of Dalelands after all!
As we went into the forest... guess what happened first. Yes, we got lost. I won't pretend that I knew anything about the forest, so I asked Wic about where we should go, since she and the Border Guards sometimes visited the area by the forest. Wic was convinced that she knew the right way to Deklo Grove. So we followed her. And followed. And followed. And followed. Strange, I always thought that the Deklo Grove was only about one hours walk from the edge of the forest... and not three... Anyway, when walking through the magnificent old forest, I kept admiring all the Gozreh's creations, the beauty of trees, the fine colors of moss and grass, the wonderful creatures we encountered. Harken Forest thrived with life, even the birds were singing praises to Gozreh, the Goddess of Nature. And while we walked, Eric sung us songs and told the tales about the forest. Ancient treants were supposed to live there, as well as elves, of course. I thought I could even smell their perfumes there...

And then we finally found Deklo Grove. And Tarim - he was hanging from a tree in the middle of the grove, covered with some strange white substance which strangely reminded me of a spiders' cocoon... That's when the big, hairy, enormous, terrifying spiders came! I can tell you, they didn't look anything like the spiders I would usually put into my brother's bed when we were children! Yuck.
We didn't waste the time. Wic quickly started firing off arrows with her bow, Illorath took out his sword, Willem started his prayes, Eric started singing louder (can singing scare off spiders?) and I took out my urgrosh. The fight begun. Wic shot one of the two spiders right in the eye - he was dead on the spot! I helped Ilorath to finish off the second one. I must say that this elf is not that bad when it comes to fighting, he certainly has a potential. I wonder if he could fight as well with a dwarven battleaxe.

The spider were killed, so I went to save poor Tarim. Gozreh teaches us to protect all the living creatures (mind you, giant spiders are unnatural and Gozreh has no mercy for abominations!), so I ran as fast as I could to free him. He looked like he would die at any moment. No wonder, being stranded in a cocoon for three days, without any food... I managed to free him, luckily, but I was so concentrated on saving him that I didn't notice what was happening to my friends - untill it was almost too late.


It turned out that the spiders had a mother. She was a giant, furious beast, almost twice as big as her children (both killed - and that made her even more angry! we have a special word for that in our dwarven tongue: "förbannad" - sounds furiously, doesn't it?). I saw a big red shape on her back - I wonder if it was the sign of Asmodeus, this evil god could create such foul creatures and be happy with sending them as a menace to the people living in Dalelands.
I ran back to my friends to help them fight the monster. I attacked the spider mother when I was winded after all that running - and that was my biggest error. I didn't reach her, but she attacked me back, I fel to the ground, almost fainted, feeling the poison in my veins... everything went black, I felt dizzy.... I'm not quite sure what happened afterwards, I know that I tried to get up and fight again, the world was literally dancing in front of me. I had even trouble holding the balance. Then I heard a shout "Victory!", I think it was Ilorath. I felt someone telling me to drink something (it was Will with his vial with antidote for spider bites). Slowly I started feeling better, even tough I was still as weak as a baby elf.

When we returned to the village with Tarim, his wife was overwhelmed with happiness. My friends were running around with their errands, I just sat by the inn and rested. One spider bite more and I would be saying hello to my Goddess in her realm.

In the afternoon we went to Alduvan, the famous Mage who lives in our village. We wanted to sell him spider parts and other ingredients for his magical mixtures. He promised to help us and give some of his specialities, but... the old fart started whining that first he wants a tower wall repaired and then - his roof mended (what roof?! the only leftovers of his hay roof were rotten through, we could clearly see the sky above us! I wonder how he manages to sleep there when it rains.) Eh, those filthy mages. He says the "hole", which I call "the lack of roofing", helps him to make astronomical observations. Yeah, right. But he wants to get rid of it anyway, lots of drafts and such. Then he wants to have his little barn and fence mended and his tower cleaned up. I will not waste precious space on my parchment to write about the filth I saw there. Let's just say he has problems with grasping the concept of emptying his chamber pot, washing his dishes after each meal - and putting them away (He leaves a plate on his laboratory table, covers it with lots of parchments and magical ingredients and on the next day he puts another plate with a piece of roasted chicken and a lonely mouldy turnip on top of it - and the cycle starts all over again. When Ilorath saw it first, he almost got a heart attack. It's good that he didn't see my brother's room... Those elves are so fragile.)

Where was I. Ah. I tried to convince Tarim's wife and other village women to clean up at Alduvan's place, but they only screamed in terror and some of them shut the door in my face. When I think of it, I gather that they may have been cleaning there once or twice already before. Poor souls. I have no heart to harass them more. I talked with the local carpenter and the stonemason - he agreed on fixing the mage's house but it would cost 50 gold coins altogether. 50 GC! What an outrage! It's almost the price a dwarven artisan would charge! Unheard of! Even though these are hard times with the war and Iron Circle menace, but still. 50 GC for a stupid fence, roof and fixing a wall! COME ON HUMANS! WHEN WILL YOU FINALLY ADMIT THAT YOUR CRAFTSMEN ARE NOTHING COMPARED TO OUR DWARVEN STONE AND WOOD ARTISTS?!

Sigh.

I almost forgot to write that something really strange happened as well. Talia the priestes of Sarenrae was complaining about a thief who stole something from her temple. It turned out to be the halfling we met the other day at the inn.
At the same time, it turned out that we finally are sure who is spying for Iron Circle - a rich citizen called Adamelus who has been living here in Anthar for last two years. He and his family are strange folks, they keep to themselves... Ilorath said that he would go and investigate the matter. He was to observe their house throughout the night, because we heard a rumor that Adamelus and his son like to disappear somewhere late in the evenings. Suspicious! I wanted to join Ilorath but I was too tired after being poisoned by the spider. Which is now a dead spider, HA! I went to bed instead, but I kept wondering what the morning would bring... Good night!

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The Creation of Aelos

Notebook:


There is an old dwarven myth about how the world of Aelos came to be…

In the beginning, only the Three Wise Women: The Maiden, The Mother and The Crone existed. 
(These are the names of Three-Faced Gozreh, the Goddess of Nature. Human scholars claim that these are dwarven names for the Seer Queens, but what do they know...)

The Three Wise Women were dancing among the ethereal clouds and admiring the freshly created universe, gazing at all the glittering ideal spheres floating below them. All that glittering is still up there, we see it as stars in the night sky. This is the proof that the Three Wise Women watch over us and care for us even in the darkness. 



In the beginning of time, our world was not yet there, but the Wise Women knew that something was missing.

“What is the universe without life?”, asked the Maiden.
“It is but an idea without substance.”, answered the Crone.
“Let us create a material world.”, said the Mother.

And they all blinked. And their power of blinking was so great, that the new world came to be at once.

“Let us call it Aelos”, said the Maiden, “A world of purity.”
“Let us call it Aelos”, said the Mother, “A world of abundance.”
“Let us call it Aelos”, said the Crone, “A world of wisdom.”

And that is how Aelos was created. A cerulean sphere, as blue as the ancient mountain pearls of Eyrie.
They created an ocean world; elegant in its simplicity; but it was not enough for the Three Wise Women.
So the Maiden tore of a small piece of the cloud they were sitting on and threw it down upon the oceans of Aelos. And that is how the first ancient piece of land was created.

The Mother nodded in approval, removed three hairs from her head and blew them down with her warm breath upon the surface of the new land. Her breath was a creative force, strongest than the harshest storms. It shaped the surface of this flat land, made the valleys and sculpted the mountains of Aelos. And where her first hair fell, the forests and grasslands were created, marshes and dry lands, as well as mountain vegetation full of plant life in its amazing abundance as we can see it even today. Her second piece of hair transformed into many living creatures – big and small; hunters and game; the ones that fly, walk and swim.
The last piece of her hair fell on the new land and remained dormant, waiting for its time.

Then the Crone nodded in approval, took out her cane and smashed its pointy end into the new land’s surface with all her might. The earth shuddered and the land divided into several pieces that started drifting apart from each other. No one knows for sure how many pieces there were, but we are sure that two continents exist for sure: the exotic Crescentia and our homeland, Therrenea.
But what happened to the third hair of the Mother, you ask? Well, it crumbled into a number of smaller bits as the land divided and in their due time those hair pieces took form of several races that shape the surface of our world today. Their physical appearances, traits and abilities depend on where they came to life. The first Dwarves were created from the piece of Mother’s hair that fell deep in the hearts of ageless, harshest mountains and that is why we are such a strong and wise race. 

This is the dwarven symbol of our Goddess Gozreh. It is also a symbol of our world, as a tree with its branches intertwined, always living, always in motion:


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Of Dwarves and Toads

Notebook:

GM: Alex

The new heroes of the Dalelands, revised list:
Hornikatta Brightblade (Dwarf Fighter (Daughter of Dorn the Red))
Wic of the Border Watch of Anthar (Human Ranger)
Willen (Human Cleric of Saranrae)
Ilorath Balcadiz (Noble High Elf Duelist)
Erik The Bard (Human Bard), nephew of Beren The Bard


 
Dear Diary,
What a lovely morning it was! Or, should I say, noon, because it took a while until I was rested enough after all the partying yesterday. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t have a hangover – only humans and other weaker races suffer from it – I just needed my beauty sleep. And the dreams I had… they felt almost real. In my dreams I was an eagle, gliding high in the skies above some mountain tops… The mountain tops I know by heart. I see them every day on the tapestry that is hanging in my room – the snowy mountain tops of Eagles Eyrie, the place our forefathers lived at. I felt like something was calling me from under the mountains, urging me to come. The eagle I was in the dream suddenly become to dive and started intently falling towards the ground, or rather, towards the things hidden beneath it. The clouds were swooshing past me, the mountain tops grew larger and larger… then I heard a wolf howling… and I woke up, startled. What a weird dream…

As soon as I was ready to eat some breakfast (Have I written down the whole menu of a proper dwarven breakfast? No? I’ll do it next time, then.), I went to the dining hall. To my utter surprise, almost all of my dwarven kin were there, clapping hands, shouting: “Hurrah for Hornikatta!” and congratulating me on winning the Beer Drinking Contests. It was a great surprise! Even my father, Durn the Red, was there, and he winked at me, smiling. I was happy that I made him proud. After finishing my breakfast, I made a move to get up and get back to the Inn to meet my new friends – but to my astonishment, Fero Smallblad… umm… The Fist approached me, with two young short bearded dwarves behind him. He started mumbling something, then flushed, then coughed again… then he grabbed a mug of ale from the table, gulped it to the last drop, fell to his knees (I told you, he can’t hold his liquor!) and said with a clear voice: “Oh, Hornikatta, you are the pride of our clan! You won the contest yesterday – and my heart with it. Will you do me the honor and marry me?”

I so did not see it coming. No one ever asked me for my hand before. As a matter of fact, no one asked me for anything before, except for the humans wanting to borrow some money, as usual. Where do they get those notions that we, dwarves, are supposedly rich? We’re as poor as all other living creatures in Dalelands. Yes, we are. Really.
“Hey!”, interrupted one of the dwarves standing behind him Fero, his name is Filo. “I was supposed to ask her first!”.
“Wait a minute”, started the other one, his brother Falo, “I was to surprise her with my beer poem before you!”
It turned out that both Fero’s friends wanted to fight him for my hand, without even asking me for it first – and before the dinner, too! Unheard of, dwarves preferring to fight with each other instead of eating some roasted wild boar. (And by the way, it is not true that I blushed after Fero had popped The Question. I did not! I just drank a bit too much of the breakfast beer and blood began pumping faster through my veins, a completely natural reaction to a tasty and filling meal. Real dwarf women DO NOT BLUSH!)

As soon as all three suddenly love-stricken gentledwarves started quarreling with each other and showing their fists, I sneaked out quickly of the dining hall. Pheew, they didn’t even see me go out! Love is blind, they say. I tend to agree…
I went to the “Prancing Pony” Inn to meet my new friends (and an old one too, since Wic was already there). As I was coming in, a grumpy Halfling passed me by, mumbling something under his nose. My new companions looked amused – apparently that guy, Zert, wanted to join our group and travel with us, searching for adventures or trolls to kill, something of that sort. But we’d had enough of short, feisty creatures at that point – everyone remembered the HalfGoblin Menace. Zert even looked similar to that goblin, except for his blue nose. Suspicious. Maybe it was some disease after all. Or maybe they were related. The world is full of mysteries…
While sitting at the inn, we met a pair of traveling innkeepers searching for a new home (meaning, an inn to run). Their old inn was burned to the ground by some minions of the Iron Circle. (Have I mentioned that I and the Iron Circle have developed a hate-and-hate relationship?)


Anyway, the temporarily unemployed innkeepers, Kobos and Tornka, were looking for new business opportunities. Then I remembered that there was an old dwarven tavern called “The Crossed Sword”, somewhere on the way to Albridge. It was destroyed in mysterious circumstances (meaning: I didn’t listen to my dad that much when he told me that old story…) many years ago and no one settled there since, even though its location was perfect. The problem was, it was haunted. Or maybe it still is? The villagers keep spreading rumors that there are some specters or ghosts roaming around the place and scaring off the travelers. We agreed with Kobos and Tonka that we’ll travel with them, since we’re on the way to Albridge in a few days anyway, and we can check the inn and its ethereal inhabitants when we’re there. I bet those ghosts will like the taste of my urgrosh blade!


 
And that’s how my urgrosh looks like, by the way.





Then Kobos started reminiscing the past…
“Oh, our old inn was so fine, so splendid and comfortable. And the bread oven was just perfect! All our guests loved the place, and you should know that we hosted not only everyday humble pilgrims, but also some of the most important figures from Bern!”
“Oh, really?”, Ilorath looked really interested. I bet he wanted to show off his posh connections. “I know so many important people in Bern, I come from there. I’m sure I know some of your guests. How about you tell me who visited you recently?”
“Well, why not”, Kobos agreed happily, “The noble Kvava from Bern visited us many times and…”
“Ah, I know Kvava”, triumphed Ilorath, “He’s a member of my closest family!” – I told you, he wanted to impress everyone.
“Is he really that close to you?”, the innkeeper looked all too happy. Suspiciously too happy, I thought.
“Of course! He is my brother!”, Ilorath nodded vigorously.
“Are you sure?”, Kobos started rubbing his hands, but they didn’t look dirty…
“Sure as I live and breathe!”
“It’s so good to meet one of his kin, I’m honored.”, continued Kobos. “You should know that noble Kvava owed me 500 gold pieces for his last visit…”

I think that finally Ilorath managed to convince Kobos that his beloved brother Kvava will return the debt personally (really?) and the innkeeper left us to check on his wagon. At that moment I heard some familiar sounds:





Then I recalled! It was that human song I liked to listen to when I was a little dwarfling. I turned around to see who was playing the lute. It was a young human blond-haired bard. I think I’ve seen him or heard him before. I listened to several of his songs and they reminded me of the most famous singer of the Dalelands – Beren The Bard. He visited our village years ago, just in time for the harvest feast. His music made this occasion much more special than usual. Even my father danced once or twice! One just couldn’t resist Beren’s “lute magic”. Now when I think of it and look at this young man… I think he looks a bit similar to that seasoned bard. But, of course, I may be mistaken, almost all humans look alike to me, with greasy hair and those long sticks they call legs. What do they know of real dwarven beauty ideals… Do you want to see one or two? Okay, these are the parchment posters that hang in my wardrobe. Just don’t tell my father, he says I’m too young for these things (like a giant dwarven battleaxe, for example). Here you are:


Dreamy… aren’t they?

 
After a while we decided to visit a local woman, Myella, at her farm. William says she has some problems of spiritual nature and he as a cleric has to look into her needs. I bet it’s all about money. It’s the usual way when it comes to gods and temples, both human and dwarf. Only my goddess Gozreh is different. She is above such earthly things. And she should be, the trees in her famous hidden forest temple have leaves made of gold…

I won’t bore you with the description of the way to Myella’s, I’ll just say that we’ve got ourselves a new companion! The young bard, his name is Erik, by the way, decided to join us after this exchange of words he had with William:
“Will there be a place for my mule?”, asked Erik.
“But of course, no problem!”
“What about my pretty birds? I have several pigeons with me, to carry the messages.”
“Well, it depends…”, William started wondering aloud. ”How many birds do you have?”
“Only four, they don’t take much place…”
“Sure, we’ll take them! We will need them!”, answered William, grinning.
“Really?”, Erik wouldn’t believe his luck.
“Sure thing! Four birds – that means four proper dinners!”, said William. I wonder what kind of meals they serve at the temple…

While we walked, we were discussing the best way to position ourselves if something was to attack us suddenly. Everyone was concerned about our feeble inexperienced (as opposed to us, heh, heh) bard with his precious lute. And tasty, I mean, useful, birds.
“Let him walk in the middle, this way we will protect him.”
“I have a better idea. Let him run around us all the time and keep singing his songs. He will scare off everything within an earshot and we will have Surround Sound!”, said Ilorath.

I think that Erik wasn’t too happy to hear it, because he started singing a peculiar tune. It goes without saying that it didn’t motivate us at all…



We arrived at Myella’s Farm and talked with her. It turned out she had some problems harvesting the land. The farmhands who used to work there, four young men called Bif, Bof, Buf and Baff (yes, they were brothers…), were too scared to work for her. They said that the nearby shed was haunted and they simply ran off, instead of going there with axes, torches and bombards, like any decent dwarf would do. Sometimes I just don’t understand human behavior… Anyway, as a result, Myella couldn’t pay the tax she owed to the temple (I knew it was about the money!), so we decided to help her. The shed was placed on the edge of a marshland, by a small lake with a tiny island in the middle.

GM says: “You’re walking through the marshes and…”
A player: “Marshes? This means crocodiles! Lots of EXPERIENCEEE POINTS!”
GM continues ruthlessly: “No, there are no crocodiles. There are brownies instead.”
Another player: “Hash brownies?!”

When we came close enough to the shed, we heard a song, sung by a group of unhappy brownies.
The Brownie Song:


Thanks to Ilorath, who was able to talk their weird language, we got to know that brownies moved to the shed (Just think such small creatures scared off the human farmhands! Come on! Shame on them! My friend Wic The Ranger is human too and she is really brave, she can hit a raging bear with his arrows and not even flinch. That’s what I call real courage, we dwarves appreciate it. I find it puzzling to know of other humans being so whiny. What a disgrace for their ancestors. A decent dwarf would go and punish himself by cutting his beard short in their place.). Where was I…? Ah, the brownies moved to the shed, because their tiny island on the lake as well as the whole area nearby was infested by Giant Toads.

And that’s how it started. First I heard a strange lapping sound and then the frog hell broke loose. Erik, our talented bard, got somehow caught by a long and sticky, monstrous tongue of one of the giant toads (they looked really ugly and smelled worse than Fero’s grandfather after not washing himself for three months as a sign of protest against raised beer taxes). After this sudden toad assault, we all took out our weapons and started THE EPIC FIGHT!

Okay, there were about seven ugly toads and only us, five brave heroes against them. I don’t need to say that it was a piece of cake and we won. They were just some slimy, stinking toads. The thing that made me happy during the fight was that we acted as a real battle unit, fighting to help each other and stand together against the danger. Very inspiring, maybe there is some dwarf spirit in them after all… (And when I say “spirit”, I mean the proverbial, ethereal entity, not my favorite drink… at least not now!)
Wic managed to hit a toad straight in the eye with her arrows, Erik cut out the tongue that attacked him, Ilorath made the monsters taste some elven steel… And I mostly jumped on those beasts (I like my heavy armor, my urgrosh and my heavy shield. DWARF POWER!), chopping them with my fine weapon. At the end of the fight I was happy to make few new cuts on my urgrosh, marking the kills of the day.

The brownies were very happy to be able to return home and they gave us a few interesting gifts, like, for example, a small bag with Dust of Dancing Lights… I wonder what kind of dust this is and what we are supposed to do with it. Ilorath suggested sniffing it in order to see the lights, but I’m not convinced. I heard a lot about strange elven tradition and I think it may be dangerous to dwarves. What if my ears start growing and changing shape to pointy, thin, elvish ears? What a shame it would be for my poor clan…

Myella was very grateful as well and we got a few coins from her along with an invitation to stay and rest for a day or two after the fight. We welcomed her invitation convinced by our noses that informed us about a very tasty stew waiting for us on the table. There is a dwarven saying, “When an empty belly calls, its dwarf always follows the master’s bidding.”

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Clouds over Riverdale...

Notebook:

GM: Alex

The new heroes of the Dalelands
Hornikatta Brightblade (Dwarf Fighter (Daughter of Dorn the Red))
Wic of the Border Watch of Anthar (Human Ranger)
Willen (Human Cleric of Saranrae)
Ilorath Balcadiz (Noble High Elf Duelist)
and the Oddball: Ab the fey blooded Goblin (Sorcerer)


It was the 7th day of the 4th month in the year 368 Dale Reckoning...

It all started on a sunny day in a forest near my home village of Anthar. Dheren, the Border Guard leader, ordered us to go on a routine patrol. Us, meaning me, the Brave Hornikatta (as I like to call myself, since apparently no one else does) and, of course, my friend Wic, the Ranger. She has really beautiful long, black hair. If I were a human, I’d envy her a lot. But it doesn’t really matter to me, since I’m a redhead (and redbeard, for that matter – yes, my dear diary, the humans keep wondering about whether we, Dwarf women, actually have beards. Well, yes, we do. Small and not as hairy as the glorious specimens of our male counterparts, but indeed we do have beards. I’m growing my first beard now, for that matter, and I’m really excited about it. Maybe I’ll be able to braid it in about 10 or 20 years? Ah, to become a fully grown Dwarf woman, how I long for it…).

Wic doesn’t have a beard (humans are weird, aren’t they?) but she is a really good friend… for a human, that is. We, dwarves, never really got around to trusting the humans (and the other “young” races, what do they know about life, I’m asking you?), but she’s not that bad. Especially since she’s a follower of the goddess of nature, Gozreh, just like I am. My human friend is a real hawk-eye and doesn’t go anywhere without her bow. Even on that day she had it with her and after she had spotted that strange bluish creature hiding in the bushes, she could hit it with her arrow. We, women, have to stick together, so I won’t tell you which part of the creature’s body she was aiming at.

Anyway… Where was I… Ah, right. Finally, we caught this ugly “thing” and kept it alive, because it didn’t look like anything we’d seen before. A bit like a Goblin (My dad HATES Goblins! I just dislike them. Fiercely. Especially on Tuesdays.), or maybe it was a Gnome? It looked nasty and vicious. And strangely colored, too - with a bluish tint to its nose and ears.
Yes, that Goblin (he said that his name was Ab… do Goblins even have names?) just couldn’t keep his mouth shut and wanted us to believe that he was a vampire. Ha! He didn’t even smell like undead do. The fact is, he smelled worse.
GM says: “You see, this goblin looks very suspicious… not quite like a goblin…”
Hornikatta, sniffing: “Does it mean that he washed himself?”
The Goblin: “Well, at least I don’t sparkle in the sun like some creatures!”

We kept this weird creature in a cage for some time, just as Dheren ordered. Then we went off to meet the other brave heroes who could help us to identify the Goblin Menace (Who was, at that time, wearing a proper collar and being led on a leash, of course. He could have been rabid, after all!). At the “Prancing Pony” inn in Anthar we met Ilorath, the specialist in explaining the inexplicable. Ilorath is a very tastefully and richly dressed Elf with sophisticated manners.
“Who are you, anyway, a Wood Elf?”, asked the curious goblin.
“No”, said Ilorath, making a very complicated and sophisticated bow, waving his hands and exposing his fancy sleeve cuff laces, “Not at all, I’m a High Elf from Bern, from a noble family of…”
“Ah, a Posh Elf, then!”, someone mumbled at that moment.
All eyes suspiciously turned to the innocently looking Goblin.

Anyway, we were sitting comfortably at the inn. On that day many weird rumors were being spread (or maybe it was the new beer they server there…) – and we listened to all of them:
“I hear that there are crazy rabid wolves in the forests by the road to Albridge. They keep attacking the travelers and no one is safe anymore!”
“Yes, and have you heard about the Deklo Grove? It’s full of big, angry bears! Don’t go anywhere near that place!”
“Indeed, but I know something even worse… do you know what’s lurking in the Druid Grove?”
“…Oh, no! Druids?!”
Needless to say, everybody was fear-stricken at that point.

All the brave heroes (minus one) were completely puzzled about how to find some more information about the strange blue-tinted goblin. The goblin in question was only grinning viciously. But everyone had lots of interesting ideas that were a tiny bit disturbing at the same time:
“Let’s ask the local harlot, I’m sure she has experience with such diseases!”
“I remember how my grandpa would tell me bedtime stories about small blue creatures that live in the forests. They all wore white caps.” - “I heard that story too; their leader wore a red cap!”
“I’ll cut his ear and compare it with my clan’s collection of enemy ears. I’m sure that we’ll find a match!”

We heard several alarming rumors about the Iron Circle that evening. I wrote down all of them and we plan to check everything soon. The most disturbing news was that one of their leaders, Nazin, plans to attack Albridge. They keep recruiting various mercenaries and even orc scouts (I HATE ORCS!) have been seen near that town. We have to warn them as soon as we can! (Them, meaning the clueless Albridge dwellers, not the orcs, of course.)

Since our whole wonderful group consists of kind-hearted people (minus one, I’m not sure goblins have hearts), we decided to help the local townsfolk. Ilorath and William were staying at the inn.
“Listen”, started Ilorath, “Maybe we can help the Innkeper Jalia. She says that there are some suspicious travelers staying in the inn…”
“Well, it’s true, you both look suspicious”, said Hornikatta (me!) looking intently at both men. That was so clever, wasn't it?!
Ilorath helped the innkeeper with a card cheater Furnok the Gambler – the Elf played cards with him and caught him red-handed! Furnok became really scared (that’s because he saw my deadly weapon, the dwarven urgrosh!) and decided to donate all of his gold, including the recent winnings, to the Border Guards. It had something to do with the fact that one of us might have mentioned something about card cheaters being punished by having their hands cut off… Ah, the power of persuasion. Since we were so kind-hearted, we let him go after that. The most important thing is that Jalia the Innkeeper was very happy that her customers are safe now and kept smiling a lot to Ilorath. I think she fancies elves, although I have no idea why. They are too thin for my taste.

The Goblin wanted to help (!!!) too, so he Disguised himself and tried to milk some local peasants for some important information. Unfortunately, he rolled 1.
GM, happy: “Fumble! The peasant looks at you and screams: ‘AAAAH! GOBLIIIIN!!!’”
Ab: “I use my Fate Point!”
GM, disappointed: “Okay, the peasant thinks what to tell you. He says… hmmm, let’s see…”
One of the players tries to help: “The oldest person in the village has herpes!”

As you can see, the vicious Goblin was a real troublemaker and we, me and Wic, the Border Guards, had to lead him on a leash everywhere. It was really troublesome…
GM had an idea: “He is small, you can carry him in a backpack, Wic.”
And before Wic could answer, Ab the Goblin asked the GM: “Will I get a Mounted bonus?”


William, the obedient Cleric and a true believer (Lawful Good) was on a mission from his temple. He was to convince Kavan the Brewer to give back the money that he owes to the Temple. It was a not-so-huge sum of 15 silver coins. We all went to the brewery with William (We have to support each other, right? Even if he believes in some strange human gods instead of Gozreh, the goddess of nature, like I do. Hmmph. Those humans…). And that’s how the dialogue between the cleric and the poor brewer developed:
Kavan, scared: “But I don’t have any money!”
William: “Ok, no problem. Two gold coins for every finger.”
Kavan tried not to piss himself (and it’s not easy to piss yourself when the beer is all around you, believe me, I know!)… But finally he recalled that he had some 16 sc left. William took it all for himself, of course. For the Temple, that is. The truth is, he could share with us, I helped him with my menacing looks, didn’t I?!

We also went to see Holten the Tailor, a nice Dwarf like me, just a bit too shy and not very broad in his shoulders. The rumor has it, his mother tried to feed him with stale beer when he was just a baby, instead of giving him the strongest spirit she had, like the tradition teaches us. Ah, those new trends in child care. What will be next, feeding those poor dwarf babies with cow milk?!
Where was I. Aha. Well, poor, meek Holten is in love with Fruella, but she seems to prefer only the strong, sweaty, big-bellied, belching dwarves (as I do!). He thought that if he became a member of the Border Guards, his beloved would get interested in him. Of course, Dheren (my boss) didn’t want any weaklings among us… but I convinced him that the Guards need new proper cloaks, clothes, emblems, shoes and such. And that's what made Holten join the Guards as our official tailor! You should've seen his face when he joined us. Believe it or not, but Fruella smiled at him on that day. I wish them a lot of happiness and a cute dwarfling every decade to raise… as soon as I get my new cloak, that is!

We decided to visit an old hermit called Black Jay (After seeing him, I can say that this “black” has something to do with his teeth…). His cottage was in Dymak Forest and he had a fey infestation problem. The problem was, it was a bit away from the village.
“Can we return in tome for the festivities and the beer drinking contest? I can’t miss it!”, said Hornikatta (that’s me!). “The contest starts in 6 hours!”
GM: “It takes 3 hours to get to Black Jay’s cottage.”
Ilorath: “Ok, we can make it. And when we have arrived there, we will find a note saying ‘Gone to the village for the beer contest.’”

The GM informed us what we know about Black Jay: “He is an old man, living in a forest. He has a few pigs and two watchdogs.”
“Great!”, says William The Pious Cleric, “Each dog is 20 XP! Let’s kill them!”

We decided to go to the hermit anyway. William knocked on the door.
Black Jay’s grumpy voice (behind the closed door): “WHAT?!”
William: “We came here to help you solve your problems…”
Black Jay: ”I’M NOT INTERESTED IN PSYCHOTHERAPY!!!”

After some time, and a bit of convincing, Jay opened his door and his heart for us:
Jay: “I have a problem… my pigs die and I don’t know why…”
William: “I don’t understand the problem… do they taste bad?”

Ab found some poisoned mushrooms in the pig sty. Imagine that, he turned to be useful after all! He concluded that this is the reason for the mysterious pig deaths:
“Mister Jay, sir, you have a mycosis problem…” (“Ah…! Svampproblem har du!”)

We managed to solve Jay’s problem with fey who were trying to poison the pigs and who stole his ring, the last memory he had of his departed wife. We found the ring (with a little help from the Goblin who spoke their language, surprise, surprise!) and that made Jay happy for the first time in last ten years. When we were leaving the cottage, we heard several tiny voices laughing in the bushes: "We’ll steal it again, as soon as he leaves the cottage. It will be such fun!" Ah, those pesky fey…

We all returned to the village in good time for the festivities. I went straight to the inn for the beer drinking contest and… I WON!!! It was to be expected, of course, since the other contestant that counted was a Dwarf as well, Fero the Fist, or Smallbladder, as we call him behind his back. He just can’t hold his liquor. Of course, he can win with every human there, and he would if it was not for me to sit down and start drinking properly. All the humans and other non-dwarf contestants fell under the table after only several jugs of The Kazak Beer (Our local dwarven specialty! I basically grew up drinking exactly this beer!). Anyway, Fero stepped down just after drinking his 12th mug. Or fell down, I should say. And I was just starting to feel that nice tingling in my nose…
The tingling got to my knees so I decided not to stand up. But I belched instead! If you only could hear it… My Grandma would have been so proud that she helped raising such a well-mannered Brightblade clan woman!
If I was a bit less focused on the beer, I would’ve probably noticed that William the cleric made some guy write something on a piece of paper, but who cares, it was just some strange human business not involving the money… I got back to drinking beer since I JUST WON A WEEK OF FREE BEER DRINKING!!!! YEEEE-HAW!!!!!


Ab the Goblin wanted to use some of his money, but it turned out that the Border Guards confiscated all of his belongings (Don’t look at me now! It was my duty! And his pouch with gold seemed heavy enough…). Of course he wasn’t too happy being pushed around and being on a leash all the time. He got a bit grumpy, but not as much as Black Jay.
At one point, the GM said to the player: “It’s not my fault! It was you who wanted to play a Goblin!”

Ab was allowed to roam freely for a remainder of the evening. As I wrote it before, he was disappointed that all the Border Guard (me, that is, and Wic) confiscated his belongings (Wic did it!) and gold (Well, he had money with him and something had to be done with it, it was so heavy and he looked like a very frail creature so I took care of it for him, oh, my soft heart, I just can’t stop helping creatures in need…). Anyway, he decided to get some money on his own in a very illegal way (shame on him, I would never do that!). So he sneaked into one of the cottages and tiptoed into a room filled with cute, innocent sleeping small kids. He showed off his teeth and screamed: “I’m a toothfairy! GIVE ME YOUR TREASURES!!!”
The poor kids got scared and started crying. I think that the crying did the trick – everyone knows that goblins are afraid of water, so he just escaped through the window. And that was the last thing we got to know about our strange companion. I don’t know where he went after that – I suddenly felt tired after drinking so much beer all the adventures of the day and decided (very suddenly, I admit) to go to sleep. And when I say go to sleep, I mean, of course, the old dwarven tradition of putting your forehead with quite a significant speed on the inn table by the beer mug to the sound of my clan brothers and sisters singing. The trick is not to spill the beer when hitting the table with all your weight, of course! Easy-peasy! Good night!



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