Glim Ronrick Felix Hispos Winchworth
Glim stands a little under four feet tall, and walks with the assistance of a smooth, white quarterstaff topped with a sphere. On the top of his staff rests the raven, Muninn, with knowing eyes. Glim’s head and face are covered by wild, sandy colored hair. He has a slightly crooked nose and pale blue eyes.
Level: 5 Wizard
Str: 8 (-1)
Dex: 13 (1)
Con: 12 (1)
Int: 17 (3)
Wis: 10 (0)
Cha: 12 (1)
School Specialization: Transmutation
Banned Schools: Evocation and Enchantment
Glim came from the small gnome settlement, Underhill, and is the son of an industrious family of architects and builders. All of the families of Underhill all look down on the arcane, and prefer to build and make with more earthly things.
Glim grew up and tried to learn his families profession, but had no interest in it – he was interested in magic. He became restless as the years went on, and one day set off to a university (that he had heard whispers about) to learn the arcane.
He spent numerous years at Walarth’s University of the Arcane, in Haleah, where he excelled at his new found skills. Over the years he slowly grew tired of the academic life, and wanted to take flight. Figuring he had done it before and succeeded – he took a sabbatical and set off into the world to see the world (and make some gold, too).
I have not had much time to write these last few days, and (with these new developments) I suspect I will not be able to pursue my studies like I would wish. I have found myself stuck travelling with a very peculiar lot – I will detail them later when I have more time to record my thoughts.
I stumbled upon a settlement that, I would add, is nothing more than a few shacks and hovels huddled around an inn. It is there I found my new compatriots. A local man had lost his children and had become hysterical. We immediately set out to search for them. I now completely regret this decision – as it appears the local rumors were more than true. It is like nothing I have previously encountered at the University. The daughter, I believe, is possessed by a demon or some other planar monstrosity. I can only hope the entity is independent in its lust for death, as I fear we will be doomed if there are more involved.
I am beginning to severely regret leaving the university, but this is a fantastic opportunity to learn more about the Art and the nature of the world.
I finally found a few moments to record these developments in more detail.
Willem took us through the Fathom Forest, where we found a cave. We entered and fought our way through some gnolls, but the dwarf and others made quick work of them, while keeping them off my back. This might be a good group to travel with, after all. In the depths of the cave we stumbled through a door into complete darkness, with a creature lurking. Thankfully I was prepared and had a few things up my sleeve – I was able to stun the beast, who was also responsible for this supernatural darkness. Once able to see the room we saw evidence of some kind of ritual, using Willem’s son as the sacrifice. His daughter was there, as well, but it was clear that is not actually her. It claimed to be named Nhilos, and it was able to teleport away before we could intervene further. It is also probably apparent, at this point, that Willem was dominated by this being (or perhaps possessed by a lesser entity), and led us into this trap.
We found a book filled with insane scribbling, I was not able to decipher any of it, save for the word “Moleg.” We had to destroy, Willem, of course. We can not have agents of this evil roaming our plane. We quickly returned to the inn at Keen Crag, to eat and gather our thoughts. This might be a good point to outline my companions:
- Quite large of stature, and reptilian. I am quite positive he has at least one dragon for an ancestor
- Rare to speak, with a diminutive vocabulary
- Seems rather hot headed (no pun intended) and self serving
- My overall impression is that he will be useful to me, but I should not expect him to go out of his way to help me or the rest of the party
- A minstrel of some sort, but I doubt he has any patron supporting him.
- Quite loquacious, but I posit he doesn’t understand half of the words he utters
- He has made rash decisions so far, but his head seems to be in the right place
- Overall I believe him to be a trustworthy companion, other than the slight embellishments on the tales he spins
- We found him in Fathom Forest while following Willem
- I have had trouble getting a read on him, but I get the feeling he hardly leaves the forest
- Overall, he is quite skilled with a bow and will be useful to have around, although I can not say what his motives truly are
- Fanatical worshiper, I wonder if it will be harder to use reason and logic with this one, or with the lizard
- At the very least he will help keep the party alive, and I can appreciate that. I just need to be careful about what I say or do around him, or risk offending his delicate sensibilities
- At first glance nothing more than any other Dwarven soldier, but is actually quite talkative and has a quick wit.
- His motivations seem to be for gold alone, but I suspect there is more to him than the role of a common mercenary
- As a fellow short statured person, I certainly want to stick with this one more than the others. He understands what it is like to be looked down on every day.
I digress, back to the mess we have found ourselves in.
The large lizard was at the bar, where we left him. What he was doing all this time I cannot guess, as I have hardly seen him imbibe anything. This reinforces my belief that I cannot really trust this one.
We ate and drank and rested. My compatriots loudly asked the barkeep about our book, and I tried to shush them. It is not wise to speak loudly of something so evil. But, it appears Stanick knows of someone who may be able to help us decipher its meaning. Nearby there is a great warrior, Kirin, and he instructed us to seem her out.
Also, our cleric found himself entranced by some bar wench. She was an especially nice bar wench, I might add. I took him to be a celibate, but it appears he does have an appreciation for
beautiful certain material things. His appreciation cost him, though, and she walked away with his coin purse. Probably the most expensive conversation he has ever had – hopefully it teaches him a lesson to focus on his task.
We all retired to our rooms, and I slept well, considering the circumstances and the poor lodging. We quickly ate breakfast and headed out to find this Kirin. Thrash was able to successfully locate a hut, that we believe to be their abode. It appeared as if someone left in a hurry, or it was ransacked. Thrash was able to pick up the trail again and we set off.
We followed the trail until we heard voices, and saw a group of mercenaries huddled around a fire. Strange company, a group of both human and orc. I was able to overhear the orcs speaking of a female that they had captured, and then lost. They must have attempted to kidnap Kirin. Brotrillisk and I approached slowly, as Thrash climbed a tree for a better sniping position. Mezla Mezla, the ass, strolls right by us strumming a chord on his lute, asking the mercenaries about his lost sister. The easily see through his ruse, and they spot us.
The ensuing combat proved harder than it appeared. Mezla Mezla was gravely wounded, and almost perished (not to say he did not deserve it). I was also struck by one of the orcs, but managed to avoid any further damage. We were able to knock one unconscious, and extracted out of him the location of a nearby “fort” – more like hive of scum and villainy. This individual was apart of a guild of assassins, and eventually ran out of things to tell us. Normally I would not, but I argued that we must kill him. Someone raised from birth to kill would not just walk away.
Sure enough, I was right, and the moment we undid the binds on his hands he leaped out and tackled Mezla Mezla. We were able to dispatch of him without much issue, but why did they not listen to me? Do they not know I attended Walarth’s in Haleah? I probably know more than all of them combined.
I am writing all of this whilst traveling to Fort Gallant. I hope we make it out of there with all of our fingers and toes.
I also wonder where Muninn has wondered off to. I miss my companion.
This inn looks like an absolute dump, and I cannot believe we even went inside. We were not sure where else we will be able to turn in for the night, so I suppose we had to.
I did not realize how much I was spoiled by Stanick’s inn until we went inside the Cloak and Stagger – this place smells of stale ale and vomit. It was almost filled to the brim, the patrons were all a very rough sort, and all seemed to be shouting.
We were lucky to find one open table in the very center of the main room, and we all took a seat, weary from our travels. The innkeep, Thiles, was surprisingly courteous, given the atmosphere here. We sit in silence and listen to the flow of words around us, and here a few rumors:
- There is a portal of some kind in the highest tower of Balknah’s Castle. I hope we have a chance to pursue this lead, while it is unsubstantiated, there must be a wizard maintaining the gate, and I would like to see his spellbook.
- There is an Elven princess captured and imprisoned in some lost dungeon. Seems incredibly vague and I have no interest in princesses, let alone Elvish ones. Probably just a fairie tale.
While we are eavesdropping, the barmaid comes by (if I recall correctly, which of course I normally do, her name is Tarn) with bread and water, and regales us with what the kitchen has available that evening. We all order various foods and drink – I believe I had a vegetable stew. I certainly did not trust any meat they were serving here.
As the barmaid was leaving, a familiar figure of short stature approaches our table and sits down. It is Garil, who had disappeared on us without a word. I believe he was quite shaken by what we saw in the cave, but I would think a seasoned soldier would be able to handle a situation like that with more resolve. He somehow was able to track us to the fort. Regardless, he stuck with with us and hopefully will for the foreseeable future.
I would also like to point out that our reptilian comrade is, at this point, just standing and staring at nothing in particular. I wonder what his little brain was thinking of.
Sadron notices a group in a corner of the inn, and brings our attention to them. They are clearly dressed differently than the rest of us, and clearly not from around here. Someone notes that they seem like pirates, although I am not sure where the nearest sea is, and I can’t think of the last time I saw a seagull… but I digress.
This group begins singing, which reminded me a lot of my life growing up. I also should note that at this point I have had a few rounds, and that I am a rather cheap date considering my stature. I rarely drink in any excess, maybe after finishing a large project at the university. In this instance I was happy to have survived our encounters so far. So, I get up to join them, and they ignore me completely! The nerve – they probably sleep with mermen, anyway.
Thrash, feeling generous, buys them a round. They all proceed to drink and largely ignore us, except for one saunters over, introducing himself as Son. He is on a quest to find himself a home.
Brotrillisk, who has still been standing this whole time, finally sits down and grunts something unintelligible.
We call the keep, Thiles, over to ask him a few things about the fort. It seems that most of the original inhabitants were all imprisoned here, and a man named Jericho was able to set them free and depose the original owners of the fort. They seem to all revere him.
We also learn that the Scorpion guild is nothing more than a bunch of thugs. I am not sure if I believe that, but even if there are just thugs they must have received orders from someone high up. Who else would send them out for Kirin?
Thiles also lets us know about the local shops and merchants. There is:
- Griffon’s Armory, run by a halfling named Riffolk
- An apothecary run by a dwarfette named Aglid
- A general store, run by a man named Cauldry
- A weapon smithy named Lavoy, although I think he doesn’t make them himself
It also turns out this is the only place to sleep, unless we would prefer a jail cell. The Cloak and Stagger only has a dormitory styled basement, and so as to protect our privacy, I request to rent out the entire basement. With our reservation for the night, we set out to purchase some needed supplies.
We explore the various shops, most of us finding something of use. I got a little eager and overpaid on a potion, but I do not mind paying extra for a well made elixir. Garil attempted to flirt with the dwarven shopkeep. Is that all that is on my companions minds?
When we return to the inn, Son has done a little sleuthing and discovered that Kirin and Jericho are old friends. So, we must have an audience with this self-titled Prince of Thieves. We asked the barmaid and innkeep if they had any ideas on how to accomplish this task, and they laughed in our faces, telling us that all there is to do is wait. So we did, retiring to our beds.
The next morning, Thiles made us a great breakfast. Sadron gets up to pay, passing the door, as it explodes inwards with a platoon of men pouring in. They seemed to be led by a tiefling from the Outside. Brotrillisk attempts to intimidate the men, who are unphased and swiftly knock him out. Secretly, I thank them. They command us all to put our hands in the air, and we all comply. They then bind our hands, and put hoods on our heads, and lead us out the door. After some time and a dizzying amount of turns, our hoods are removed and our bindings are cut.
We see a long stone hall, with a plush velvet throne. A man sits on this throne, pipe in hand and smoke pouring from his nose. The smoke itself had a particularly offense odor, but I could not place it. I would say it is nothing like the other herbs and plants I have burned. Noticing our bard, he commands Mezla Mezla to play a tune, who quickly complies.
We begin speaking about Kirin, and how we come with a message for her. He tells us that he has her hidden away, and that she is safe. He has no reason to give her our message, and especially won’t if he cannot trust us.
There is someone he freed who will not bow to him, or pay his dues. This half-orc, Rasp, is the leader of a guild of some sort and possesses a giant emerald (about the size of my torso) called the Eye of the Basilisk. This build calls themselves the Black Tartans. We quickly agree, but really what choice do we have?
We are lead out of the building by the tiefling captain that originally captured us, and points us in the right direction. So we set out. Mezla Mezla scouts ahead for us, reporting their hall to be a square structure in the corner of the fort. Son climbs it and peers threw the thatched roof, whispering what he sees down to us – “a bunch of half-orcs.” Honestly I am not sure if any of my companions can even count.
We devise a plan, I will disguise myself as one of their kind and attempt to talk my way in. Maybe one of them knows where it is? I step off the road momentarily, as I alter myself into a half-orc. I do not enjoy this new sensation, and much prefer to look down and see my real hands. I also cast a spell of whispering, so I can rely to the group what I see inside.
I then walked up to the door, knocked, and convinced the door guard that he did, indeed, know me (orcs and their ilk are all a bunch of halfwits). Inside, I ask about the location of the Eye, and that it is in danger – Jericho is searching for it. He has no idea what I am talking about, and I sense he is telling the truth. After peering around, I realize these half orcs are a bunch of lackeys and will not know I thing. I whisper this to my companions, and tell them the next step. I will sneak up behind the doorman and open the lock as Garil knocks on the front. Then he will be able to bust in the door. Our plan works, thanks to my quick thinking.
We quickly dispatch of these orcs, and then head to the trapdoor in the corner of the room. Although I did notice our bard searching through the pockets of the fallen while we were still fighting them! I will need to keep my eye on this one. We open the trap door, and it is literally trapped. After the brief scare, we descend down the stairs. Since I am still disguised, I take the lead.
I enter the next room, and see who I presume to be Rasp at the far end of this long room. I try to convince him to let me help him secure the gem, that Jericho is coming for it. He laughs and assures me it is safe – but how did I know of it? No one else knows of it. Realizing I have been discovered, I whisper to my team to come in – now. They all come rushing in past me to confront Rasp. It is then we realize we were actually surrounded by many half-orcs.
We trade hits with these half orcs, and face many waves. We are able to conquer each one. I did my best in blinding and incapacitating our enemies. Mezla Mezla takes up a song, dancing around and stabbing half orcs as he can. We slowly work through them all, and Garil kills the final lackey with a strong downstroke of his hammer.
Garil tries reasoning with Rasp. Brotillisk shouts at him. Rasp turns to call more guards, but we quickly strike him and prevent it. He is much tougher than the rest, but we are able to defeat him before he hurt us seriously.
Brotrillisk has a hunch, and cuts the late Rasp open, finding the Eye inside of him. We sort through the corpses of the fallen, looking for gold and weapons. We decide Garil will carry the Eye, and we turn to head up the stairs..
I spoke a little too soon. We had to figure out how we should proceed. I wanted to have us all head back to the inn and get found by Jericho, but the others seemed quite paranoid. He seems like an honest enough fellow.
So the bard and the dwarf stayed behind as a contingency plan in case of betrayal. Myself and the rest set off back to the Cloak and Stagger. Since Jericho found us there last time, we assumed that would work again. On our way, Muninn finally revealed himself. Something shiny had caught his eye, and I scolded him to stay with me from then on.
Once we arrived, Tarn gave us a table and I ordered an ale. I asked her if she could please let the right people know that we need to speak with Jericho. Realistically she is just a bar maid, but who knows in a fort of thieves such as this. Someone eventually approached us and informed that Jericho will only have our audience if the two we left behind are present.
So, I set off to retrieve them. On the way out I informed Thiles that we will be taking the room downstairs again. Before turning in for the night we decided to swing by a few more shops, now that our purses were slightly heavier. I was able to haggle the apothecary, Aglid, down to an incredibly reasonable price. Don’t tell the dwarf, but it involved selling him… slightly. The way he looks at her, I am sure he wouldn’t mind.
We turn in, and recover from our long day. I do miss my bed back home at Walarth’s. Soon after breaking our fast the next morning, our friend the tiefling (whose name I should get, one of these days) comes to take us to his liege. We hood ourselves, and are led outside.
After we explain the previous day’s encounters, Jericho asks us for a writ to kill Rasp. Inconceivable! This is absolutely not how one should conduct themselves in a civilized way. While he may be called the King of Thieves, for some reason I expected more from him. We were then knocked out by his guards, and find ourselves divided among a few prison cells, stripped bare with only a breechcloth. With my spellbook gone, I have to say that I kind of lost it. I will be sure to never lose it again.
Important note: Kirin was in the dungeon with us. Safe place, indeed!
I do not believe I have been in a more dank and dingy room in my whole life! We stayed down there for many days, watching the guards and how they made their rounds. One day, they removed Sadron and Mezla from their cells. Not long after they were dragged back, winded, with Sadron sporting a black eye. They made them fight, with their fists! I can’t say I have ever punched anything in my whole life!
The following day they removed Garil and myself. We were taken to a room, and forced to fight for a group’s entertainment. We squared off, and I was able to deftly dodge all of Garil’s jabs. As I was about to go for it, Garil leaps onto the captain of the guard, reaching for the key around his neck. Next time, we definitely need to develop some kind of signal. I was caught off guard, and before I was able to cast a spell the guards were on us both, kicking.
Next, Kirin and Thrash were taken in to fight. I began to doze, as one does to pass the time when they are imprisoned. Some time had passed, when Kirin and Thrash come running down the hall with the key in hand. They quickly unlock our cells, and we head back through the door. Within, we find a chest with our equipment. Thankfully the security in this place wasn’t all that great. We continue into another door, and run down a hall.
We find a group of humans turned away from us, facing someone hanging from chains. It is then that I remembered our new seafairing friend had wandered off, and we found him hanging, being whipped. We quickly dispatch of the guards, and cut down our friend. Kirin found a safe, and proceeded to pick the lock. Inside was a map of the entire world! There is a copy of one at Walarth’s, but it is under very heavy lock and key (and other arcane wards). What a treasure!
We continue on, and find a sleeping man. I will spare you the details, but Fort Gallant no longer has a thief for a king. At least, until the next thief takes the crown.
In Jericho’s treasury, among all of the gold, we find the eye of the basillisk. Conveniently, the tiefling appears and reveals that he is an agent of the church at the Holy City of Aelford. I asked him his name, and he let us know it is Rynn. A new ally! I hope we see him there.
We make haste to leave the city, and Kirin manages to snag enough horses for us all, minus myself of course. I would liked to have my own pony, but Kirin’s lap will do. We made out to leave the city, and I hope Muninn watches over us as we travel.
The beginning of our travels north were uneventful, and for the most part we rode in silence. It gave me time to collect my thoughts. Mezla recalls aloud that the path is hard to find, which is not too helpful. If only the map I carried had a little more detail for the region.
Very suddenly, Sadron was bucked from his horse. It appeared as he was alright, and Garil handed the reigns of our spare horse off to him. We continued riding, until suddenly all of our horses began to act erratically and frightened. Kirin was able to swiftly dismount and grab me all in one motion, right as our horse bolted off into the forest. Everyone besides Thrash had similar reactions in their steeds. Very strange behavior, although I have not really studied the equine. I cast a spell to detect if there is a magic aura that could be the culprit, but there appeared to be nothing.
We sat down for a rest, and I took out my parchment and ink and created a few scrolls of Detect Magic. I really do miss my desk some days, and especially then. While I am writing these scrolls, Son woke up after being unconscious since before we departed. I am no doctor, but I believe he could have been at risk for injuring his brain. He began to fill us in on what happened to him. Apparently they were asking for his father’s map. A treasure map! Oh wouldn’t that be exciting?
A few others fixed up a sort of stretcher for son, and Kirin informs us she knows there is a clearing up ahead that would make for a good spot to camp. We agree, and set out. The trip took a few hours but was entirely uneventful. We begin to setup camp, and lay out our bedrolls.
After some time we heard someone approaching, given away by the snap of a twig in the grass. And I’ll be dammed, it’s that Elf from weeks back that some of us met at the Hare of the Dog. He disappeared that night, and I honestly had not thought about him sense.
He looked gravely ill, and delirious. Someone rushes to him and brought him close to the fire. I honestly could not make sense of what he was saying – he thought only a few days had gone by since I had seen him. We tried to calm him, to the best of our abilities, before laying down to rest. Muninn and Thrash’s wolf will look over us.
Suddenly, I awoke to a savage sound. Looking around, I see that Safeir is howling and scratching at his skin. He soon begins tearing at his flesh, and underneath appears ragged black fur. A lycanthrope! In the flesh! Oh, I was most excited. I almost let my excitement get to me before I remembered that he will probably act most violently. We did our best to subdue him, but the strength granted to him from the disease was too powerful. We got lucky, and a cloud began to cover the bright, full moon. He collapses, back in his human form. Kirin quickly threw a blindfold on him, and we tie him into the stretcher.
At this point there was no way we could go back to sleep, so we decided to head out and continue on. There was a particular unease to the group now. Thrash’s wolf appeared ahead of us and ran up to his master, who began to study his animal friend through squinted eyes. He looked up to us with a grave look on his face.
“Something big is coming” he muttered.
We all ready ourselves, as we hear a crashing in the distance. A few of us climbed into the trees. A troll appeared, rumbling through the underbrush.
“TROOOOOOOLLLLLLLLL!” Sadron bellowed.
The fight was quick and brutal. By the end of the fight, we had blinded the beast in both eyes. We took a few moments to collect ourselves, and Sadron prayed to his deity. After, we set off at a brisk pace. This forest is much more dangerous than we expected.
I begin to hear something having a conversation in the distance, but I can only make out a word of Orc here or there. I couldn’t quite understand what it was saying. Before we knew it, we were at the feet of a large two headed humanoid, clearly with some intelligence. We were all so surprised that we launched into an attack, although now that I am writing this I wish I had attempted to speak with the thing.
As you can see, we survived the encounter. My short friend, Garil, almost didn’t, and for that I am happy. I hope we can get moving quickly again – I cannot wait to sleep in a warm, down bed.