Song of the Ages

Trust Is A Lie

Remember what I said about trust and faith and being part of this damned group? I take it all back. Dax did the stupidest thing by asking about the man we’re hunting, and I’m furious. I I have to keep myself in check and it’s very difficult not killing him.

I’m angry. I’m sure something is going to happen tonight. I’m unbelievably angry. Trust is a lie. Nobody is worth it.

Yoon is definitely up to something. I briefly mentioned considering what she might be up to previously, but I noticed that she’s been drawing pentagrams and the like down in the basement of our Keep. By the way, we have a Keep now. Did I mention this already? There was a demon that lived there and we got rid of it, so why is Yoon running around with chicken blood on her hands? There’s something going on and with what Dax did, I just don’t have any trust or faith in anything or anyone anymore.

Best not get in my way. I’m not in the best of moods. (Firenze, we have our night cut out for us.)

War. What is it good for? Absolutely Nothing

I have seen and read about wars, but this week is the first time where I have actually been in a war. No, journal I was not a member of some awesome assassin squad. I was actually a member of the messenger service, which really is a glorified messenger pigeon. Do not worry, I did not use my special abilities to zip from one place to another. I actually took my sweet time delivering my message. Actually, now that I think of it…I may have only half delivered one message before giving up. By the time I received the location where the message was to be delivered, we were ordered to stop some invasion of hideous creatures. Nice job, Fulgan for not keeping them out. It was a rough battle, we fought everything from ogres to a dragon. Yeah, you read me right…a DRAGON. There was a lot of blood, fainting, and curse words coming from me. I think some good came out of it though. We received a house? Or some resemblance of a house. Who am I kidding, it is a piece of GARBAGE.

The coming few weeks, we are attempting to meet with Vashaya. I am looking forward to it because we have a common interest now.

Folded Shield

Fulgen holds his shield up so that the whole room can see it. It has been bent inwards completely, almost folded in half. The green and blue paint across its surface is spiderwebbed with cracks. “Two fire giants,” he says.

“I want you to know why I tell you these stories. I don’t mean to titillate you. I certainly don’t want to disturb you, to remind you that these monsters exist when you likely spend most of your days wishing they didn’t.” Fulgen puts the shield down and picks up his lute again.

“I tell you these stories, these true stories, because I want to impart hope. I want you to know that these monsters are mortal. They can be killed. Let me tell you my second story about dragon-slaying.”

It wasn't spicy, but it certainly had a good kick to it.

So, we were hired to march up to a nearby fort and assist in repelling a gathering group of orcs that had been spotted in the area. Everyone we talked to kept saying that they didn’t exactly know how many there were, but just to expect them to attack the fort soon. By the time we got there, we started helping as best we could, with the clerics holing up in the chapel and preparing for the wounded as best they could. Me? I worked a forge and did whatever odd job they needed me to smith. It’s been a while since I’ve done that, too long actually, but it was good to be reminded of the simple joy of shaping metal and working heat.

Maybe we can get a forge put into that keep we now own.

Oh, what keep? The one we killed the fire giant in, we got it as payment for the fort job… ah, I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? So, the fort job. We had maybe a day at most of doing these small things before the orcs showed up. And the giants, bandits, trolls, and everything else they seemed to dredged up along the way. And in numbers we had certainly not been expecting.

Rather than spend the fighting churning out blades and arrowheads, I went to where I could do the most help, keeping the walls free of enemies so that our archers could kill without being killed. I’m telling you, a goblin dropped from the top of a 30 foot wall makes the funniest noise on the way down, much funnier than an orc or human. All in all, we managed to weather the attack much better than I had hoped, but at one point they managed to smash open the gate and slip a giant and some others in before the gate could be sealed again. My friends and I switched our attention to the group and managed to take them down fairly quickly, though the fire giant, yes another one, took to swinging that battering ram like a club and that’s how I broke this tooth here.

We had a bit of a breather in the chapel after that, but not long into it a dragon, large and green and full of hate and poison, came flying in and attacking our people on the walls. We charged out and attacked that thing as best as we could, but it was almost too much for us. It kept flapping away, knocking us down and then breathing its gas on us. Fortunately a few of the others rushed out to help us and we managed to kill the thing. Oh, speaking of that, have you ever tried roasted dragon tongue? No? Huh, guess I’ll have to kill some more to find out if all of their tongues have that kind of kick to them or if it’s just the green ones.

Anyways, the attack soon broke off and the army fled, meaning that we could return to town here and claim our reward, a rubbley old fort we had recently cleared of bandits. Like I said, we should look into putting in a forge, you know?


I’m tired of people who lie. I’m tired of people in general. Maybe I’ll run away with Firenze. It’ll be enough to have each other.

I want a pet dragon.

The Birth of Knee Cracker

As we approached the keep, I stood back and watched as the others struggled with the password. But, of course, we were unable to convince the guards we were part of the bandit crew.

While we were battling inside, we managed to wake the fire giant, and in his rage he managed to fell Mosi, however, that was when Sir Evans’ power woke within me and I managed to bring him back from the gates of death. After healing him to stability, I turned towards the giant and, with my magical mace, I swung it towards the giant’s knees. The giant roared out in agony as I smashed his knee into pieces and he tumbled backward, hitting his head on the ground and leaving him dead.

The name of my mace then came to me: Knee Cracker.

I could feel its pleasure at its name flowing through me. I believe Knee Cracker and I will have many more battles to come, serving our master, Lord Evans.

Fulgen's Comedy Routine II

Bob The Bandit: Cor, blimey! Wulla The Assassin just stabbed all of our criminal friends down there with her daggers! That was awful!

Bret The Bandit: Could be worse, Bob. Wulla The Assassin could be up here stabbing us.

Wulla The Assassin backflips up on the parapet.

Bob The Bandit: Aaaargh! My eyes!
too derivative, need better material
maybe invent an adventuring party NOT based on friends?

Yoon's Journal

Hello Journal,

This week has been interesting. I have decided to adopt a new method of approaching people. Instead of instantly killing them, I am going to provide them with a small opportunity to give up. You might be confused by this, but I promise there is a reasoning behind my “madness”. Blood is super hard to get out of clothing and skin. Do you know how much blood comes out of an individual? Too much. Previously, killing was very quick and clean. One swift motion kills allowed me to miss most of the carnage.

Now, it’s a slow and unpredictable process. Almost every fight begins with me getting shot with an arrow or stabbed followed by someone getting killed and blood flowing everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Don’t get me wrong, I am all for death, killing, and blood but I like planned spillage.

Got to go, Fulgan looks like he is up to something ridiculous.

A Treasure Hunt!

Decoded from the book:

Understand that what you seek was sealed away for a reason and no good will come of its revelation. A fractured mind, knowledge locked away to stop the return of the Dark God. Eadwig’s spark was corrupted, such that any who possessed it would not only become as the rest of us, but would be consumed by his rage and his evil, becoming lost themselves. I alone know where it was hidden, and my Brother took this knowledge and scattered it into 5 great books. If you would seek to unlock this knowledge, seek out the others and decode their pages.

There are more books. Maybe we should find them.

Not the best way to break rocks, mind you.

Yeah, so I had been helping the scholar get access to the dwarven archives for who knows what and so we’d fallen a bit behind the rest of the group. I almost worried what they’d have gotten themselves into, but once I met back up with them in Sutherland, I was more than a little proud to find out they’d accepted a contract to raid a nearby ruin and kill the fire giant leading a local band of bandits. When I first met them, they struggled to win a street fight, but now they were throwing themselves into battles with abandon almost to rival my own.

Makes me feel a little choked up, you know?

So, it turns out the others had met this particular band of outlaws on the road before and weren’t impressed with either their plans or their execution of such. So, when we came up to the ruined keep and were told to stop by some watchmen holding their gate, we hardly paused and instead managed to get right up to them by just talking to them. Unfortunately, they were too stupid to run away when we offered and instead sounded the alarm. It went badly for them and we rushed in to meet the rest of their friends as they came pouring out of the ruins.

I mentioned that their leader was a fire giant, right? Named Droogh, or something like that. We were doing pretty well against the bandits, even some goblin wizard that was helping them, then Droogh came out and started yelling at us for waking him up. At that point, the battle got a bit more intense. Let me tell you, fighting a giant really gets your blood pumping and all, but I could do without stopping flying boulders with my face… multiple times. And that sword he carried? Really shoddy craftsmanship, but that doesn’t matter when it’s the size of a wagon and coming at your head time and time again. By the time the brute died, many of us were so bloody and battered, it was hard to tell that we were the victors. We rested then got paid, only to be given another job from the man. Not that I don’t mind having a good string of fights to look forward to, but I was hoping to cart that sword somewhere so that I wouldn’t have to be sitting here, telling you about it. Instead I could point and say ’We beat the guy who swung that around".


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