Storm King's Thunder

Brunch With Evil

Where there would have been fear in any sane man’s eyes, not a trace could be detected when Jareth watched the man across from him. They had met at the dinner party seemingly at random, though he knew better in his gut when the predator had engaged him so willingly. There was a calm confidence in Bexley that was familiar. Whether or not it was a positive attribute was left to be determined, though Jareth had the distinct feeling it wasn’t. How could it be?

And he knew better than this, to come alone to a strange man’s home, one reeking of the kind of riches that didn’t come from simple commerce. It was just that Jareth simply couldn’t be bothered to listen to his gut instincts. Something inside him overrode any sense of wariness, driving him to make stupid decisions when even he knew they were the wrong ones.

It was why he was here at all, adventuring out away from the idea of home. Where was home? Jareth didn’t think he really knew the answer to that. He wasn’t sure he understood the question. Did it really matter so much? He’d never felt home anywhere, never had a place to feel secure enough to linger. Siggy had tried so hard, sacrificed and pressed, but it could never be enough.

And so Jareth sat across from Bexley, listening to his proposal with a strange mixture of anxiety and intrigue twisting in his gut. He would accept the job, even though he played uninterested. Maybe there was a way out of this that didn’t involve getting the shit kicked out of him in an alleyway, but Jareth already knew it wasn’t worth it. How hard could it be to convince a woman to marry when it was clear she was completely uninterested?

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Siege breaking the fog
Session Fourteen

Some wind would be nice Michael thought as another giant toppled to the ground. The city was doomed. It’s citizens mangled, broken and trampled underfoot. Buildings destroyed, lives shattered, war had shown her ugly face.

To his left ran a woman and her crying baby. Maybe there was still hope he thought as he lifted his hammer once more. I may not be able to beat back an entire army but I can make them sorry for ever stepping off their boats.

Suddenly three loud horn bursts echo’ through the air. The mists around them began to move as large figures thundered by them towards the harbor. As suddenly as they appeared the giants were gone and the siege was over.

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Home Sweet Home
Session 12

After so much time had passed – well over a year – approaching the front door of The North Look felt both ominous and welcoming all at once. Jareth’s stomach twisted with anxiety, a quiet bit of displeasure he did well to keep to himself. It wasn’t a weakness he was willing to give out so freely, the impending confrontation weighing heavily on already burdened shoulders. The door opened to warmth and familiarity, his senses flooded with the comfort of home.

There wasn’t anything quite like this place in all the world, not that Jareth had seen. It was unusual for its intention, an upscale establishment that still seemed to mostly serve the lost, people without the good sense to keep what might qualify as a normal life. It was as close to perfect as any place could be, the crackling embers of a fire and the alluring scent of beer and meat bringing life back to his face.

Quietly, Jareth watched as his companions left his side to find seats. He kept his secrets about this place to himself for now, knowing that certain parts of his life would come to light soon enough and on its own.

It didn’t take long for his arrival to be carried on the wind upstairs to the one person who might actually miss him. Soon enough they were face to face again, the initial greeting seething with resentment and accusations. Jareth let it play out as it normally did, the banter and the excuses, a trail of cleverly placed words drawing the irritable mood right out of the older man. Siggy, for all his abrupt seriousness, was weak in the end. He had a softened spot that never seemed to heal over, no matter the amount of time that passed.

Jareth was distinctly aware of the hold he had over Siggy, vague bits of past conversations lighting up in the back of his mind. There were other things on his tongue as they sat across from each other, words he didn’t have the courage to say in front of present company. Siggy would hear them eventually, when things were… different. It was what Jareth told himself to make their situation bearable. His intentions weren’t bad. They were just… stalled.

Time had only added to the distinct way Siggy carried himself, decorating his hardened features with the wear of age. He was intense as ever, determined and outspoken. Jareth wondered in the lulls of their conversation, eyes glancing privately to catch Siggy’s, if there would ever be a time when things between them were easy. It was something one of them wanted desperately, and the other wasn’t willing to give.

Not yet. Not now.

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Goodbye Darkness, My Once Constant Friend
Session Eleven

Michael trudged forwards with renewed resolve. There was light, light coming from above. It didn’t appear magical. He could feel the warmth so either this was the real thing or one hell of a good illusion. This place had been hell. A tomb of darkness and shadows for all who dared to stay in it. Part of him felt bad for the creatures stuck down there. Living in desperation and constant struggle that plagued them. They might have it worse than the people on the surface. Their struggle seemed even more hopeless and doomed.

He only felt bad for a brief moment before he broke through to the surface and the light hit his face.

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Merry Medusa
Session Ten

Gripping the maul with all his strength, its power surged through him. Bright sparks of bluish lightning danced up and down his arms as he averted his eyes from the deadly gaze and swung.

The hammer, driven by the speed and power of the thunder god himself, drove itself forward almost leaving Michaels hands. With a horrible wet crunching sound it impacted upon the right collar bone, crushing it with such force that it ripped the muscle and sinew from the send and sent it tumbling from the ground. Quickly he bagged the foul appendage before it could do them anymore harm.

The poor bastard, he thought as he looked over at Jareth. Frozen in time the explorer was the most unlucky of them all. Twice today fate had punched his number and yet here he stood. Frozen in time and heavy as hell he looked to his party for aid in bringing the frozen “friend” home.

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A Painful Secret
Session Eight

“Dammit” scowled Michael as he pulled himself off the jagged stone spikes covered in an unknown substance. Secret passages were not something he enjoyed looking for nor cared about. He just wanted out of this place, back to the surface. He wanted to feel the sun on his face again, to smell the sea air. Not the horrid stank of stale water that passed for a sea in this place.

He kicked one of the stone spikes. It didn’t move. He kicked it again with more anger this time and snapped off the sharp tip. It wasn’t much but he would take any small victory he could get down here. Checking his side he wiped away the green goop. His uniform had seen better days and it was probably time to either repair it or procure a new one.

“Everyone else ok?” Scanning the others quickly he didn’t notice anything too pressing as they moved forwards down the tunnel.

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Fade to Black
Session Seven

The claws of the twisted creature raked across his face and everything faded to black.

Suddenly he was falling downwards through and endless black sea, drowning in the endless nothing as he slid further from the pinpoint of light high above. There were so many of them all with the same twisted message.

What a messed up “wedding” he thought. Then he realized he could still think. He had thoughts, memories, nothing had faded from his mind, everything was still there. Could this mean he was still alive? If he was then why was he falling…and why did it hurt so much. The pain was unbearable. It throbbed in his head, devoured every inch of his being and tore at his soul

But he was alive. So very alive, and in pain.

His eye forced open, slowly coming into focus. Where the hell was he? The mushroom people were gone and there were familiar bodies scattered all around. His friends, the ones he swore to protect, were still alive. He mumbled a half-hearted sentence which could almost have been a prayer had he not ended it with, “God dammit my head is killing me” as he sat up.

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Drunken Self-Doubt
Session Six

Michael had enough of the fight. This creature was stronger than he or any of his party had anticipated. He was beaten down, covered in acid and the sole person in hand to hand combat with a seemingly unkillable creature. Again he felt the rage boil up in him as he gripped his sword tightly with both hands and readied his last lunge into the arms of death.

You will fail. Your friends will die along with you, bodies rotting on the floor of the black lake for all eternity. There is no hope left. Give up human, you have lost.

Echoing through is head were line after line of self doubt and defeat. For a brief moment they seemed to grip him, consume him. He was a horrible creature, a wretched creature. The things he has done in the past, the women, children, families he had decimated and wiped from this world. The monstrosities he had acted out under the guise of “loyalty” and “honor.”

His party was scattered around him, barely alive. The paladin struggling to drag himself from the depths of depravity and into the light of righteousness now lay as an acid-soaked corpse at the creatures feat. Somewhere down the tunnel he could hear the shrieks and crys of their warlock as he struggled on the ground, his sight taken from him and his face and body horribly disfigured. The archer, still clinging to life, had dragged himself off into a corner and lost the battle with consciousness.

Things were about as bad as they have ever been.

I don’t deserve to be alive. He found himself questioning his own worth when suddenly something deep inside him snapped. Maybe it was the achohol, maybe he had finally lost it, or maybe it was divine intervention (whatever the hell that is). He couldn’t fail now, not now, not ever. He didn’t make it this far to become some creatures play thing. If he was going down she was going with him, kicking and screaming, into the Abyss.

NEVER! Screamed Michael as he lept towards the creature. His blade bit deep and immediately after a flash of greenish flame tore through her chest. She flew backwards and crumpled to the ground. Standing fully upright, every ounce of his being ached. If there was a God he would have whispered a small prayer at this point. Instead, he turned to collect his friends.

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Loot and Findings
Loot loot loot

This should be a list of the loot/gold we’ve acquired from the past three sessions:

Session One

  1. 1667g (includes a 1000g strand of pearls which needs to be liquidated)
  2. 2x Potions of Healing (One each to Mica and Christen)
  3. 1x Potion of Water Breathing (unassigned)
  4. 1x Ring of Scavenging (Steve)

Session Two

  1. 42g
  2. Scroll of Poison Spray
  3. Scroll of Burning Hands
  4. Scroll of Mirror Image
  5. Scroll of Inflict Wounds (clerical)
  6. 1x Drifting Globe (functions as dancing lights)
  7. 1x Potion of Heroism
  8. 5x +1 Arrows (worth 1300g? I have this written down as such – corrections needed)

Session Three

  1. 1x Melted, Dead Toad (not sure why i’m writing this down)
  2. 2x Herbalism Kits
  3. 3x Strong Achoholic Beverages (Steve)
  4. Bag of Devouring (Mica)
  5. 4x Silver Cups (400g total)
  6. 2x Healing Potion
  7. 1x Scroll of Guidance
  8. 1x Scroll of Vicious Mockery
  9. 1x Book: Lords of the Pit: A Guide to Devils (Mica)
  10. 1x Velvet Bag with pale white stones and dwarven love runes (message stones, up to 25 words)

This is all I have at the moment. Let me know if I need to add/stubract or correct things. This list does not take into account the heart Curtis’s character acquired.

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We're on a boat...
Session Five

Navigating in a cave on flotsam which could barely be considered a boat, Michael tried to make the best of the situation. His companions in the floating wedge behind him were not fairing much better having introduced the bottom of their vessel to the sharp end of several stalactites protruding from the dark waters below. Each collision made him wince, knowing exactly what the pointed rocks were doing to the frail wooden structure.

The whole trip so far had been a bit of a let down. Surely they would have made it closer to the surface before. How long had be been out and how far down underground had the twisted elves brought him?

Now the ceiling was falling in. Leaning the boat hard to one side he managed to avoid a rock the size of a small horse as it slammed into the surface of the water and disappeared below into the abyss. The danger was real and they needed to get out of this cave. If things kept up the way they were going he might be joining those rocks at the bottom of this godforsaken lake with who knows what else lurking in its depths.

“At least i’ll go down drunk.” He said with a smile on his face as he took a swig from the jug. Realizing he had said that last part out loud he quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed.

The only one staring back at him was Ront. Everyone else was focused on not falling out of the boat or getting lambasted with rocks but here was the orc staring directly at him with unblinking eyes. He was young for an orc (at least younger than the ones he had put in the ground) but the fire of defiance burned brightly. He observed Michael as if he didn’t know what to make of him.

The gaze made him question his harsh attitude towards the creature. He was just a kid. A scared, confused, kid. He was doing what he could to protect himself, to look tough so others wouldn’t see behind the tough exterior to how scared and lonely he was. Hide it all behind anger and violence. It worked for him, why shouldn’t it work for everyone else?

Taking another swig from the jug be threw it to Ront. Without breaking his gaze the orc caught the jug, took a swig and threw it back. They were beginning to understand each other now.

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