Hello everybody! I’ve been a little behind on documenting what’s going on in my Saturday campaign and I do apologize for that. I decided to make a sub-category in the archives specifically for this game, just in case people enjoy the summaries and want to read them through without sifting through everything else. Thanks people, enjoy!
Crysx had decided, he had to sail to Omen to stop his father. He was wrong, he had to be. Something else had to be afoot here. Behind the veil of panicked thoughts, he could hear the laugh of the necromancer echoing in his head, a sound akin to bones being shattered under the feet of some great beast. He had to tell the others.
The other three were rather pleased with themselves, having secured a roof for them and the rest of the guild. A place to stay warm during the harsh winds of mid-winter on the coast. They met Crysx back at the tavern that first welcomed them into the city, though their companions reaction to seeing them was less than welcoming. Frantically he blurbed about his Eitger’s mission on Omen, claiming that something must be done.
Photo credit to paintingstar.com
“If you and the guild will not help me, then you leave me no choice but to go alone,” he said with a grave tone.
Lisbeth, trying to organize her thoughts and react appropriately says, “Now hold on just a second. We have news for you too; There’s a place to call our own here now. We did it, the people are being integrated into the city and now there can be another segment of the Axefall here in New Port until we can get back on our feet, and even after. Don’t you think there’s work to do here first? A whole order of paladins can survive on Omen for quite some time. Besides, It’ll take Eitger some time to get there. There’s time.”
A thought popped into Crysx’s head at that point. What about Yaelandra? It was no surprise that she hadn’t taken Galgurt’s condition all that well on top of the journey, but now that everything is starting to look up…
Announcing his intention, Crysx stood up to go speak with her at the infirmary, where Galgurt was being held, where Yaelandra had refused to leave. Lisbeth thought it would be a good idea to go with him, considering the hour. After an exhausting day of negotiation and politics, Corbin and Maple were all but tuckered out.
The night was cold, the wind cut through their clothes like knives made of ice. However, Crysx and Lisbeth both found comfort in the sky: it was clear as crystal. Stars dotting the ceiling of the world with the bright waxing moon to light the stone streets of New Port. Both couldn’t help themselves but think a small prayer as they both walked wordlessly to their destination.
A guard flanked either side of the door of the infirmary, arms tucked under one other in an attempt to stay warm, a halberd standing perpendicular to the fold. Perking up immediately at the sound of someone approaching, they stand at attention.
Brief questioning by the guards and some back and forth eventually lead to them gaining access. One guard steps inside to confirm with the doctors that it was okay for them to enter. Crysx sees a window of opportunity and jumps out of it.
“Hey, we’re a part of the Axefall, you know,” Crysx says with a slight smirk, “The guy we’re visiting is too.”
The guard answers with a puzzled look before asking, “What’s that? Never heard of it.”
His grin grew wider as he continued to schmooze the guard into resigning and joining the guild. The guard was so bored of his post and typical duties that he was swayed, and excitedly whispered to the other guard when he returned to let Lisbeth and Crysx into the infirmary. Almost immediately walking through the door, she was easy to pick out though her back was turned to them. Sitting there on a crude chair, that definitely could not be comfortable, staring longingly at Galgurt. His chest slowly heaving up and down made it certain that he was still somewhat alive, though Lisbeth knew he was for sure. The bond between their consciences gave her a very detailed picture of what was going on in that comatose brain of his whilst his broken body slumbers.
All that they asked of Yaelandra was meet with one word answers, with the tone of someone who has lost everything.
Since the start of their journey, Lisbeth had attempted to pass the link off as a hallucination of grief and lack of sleep, and had kept mum about it thereafter. Like the others, Crysx had believed her ruse. However, in this moment,Crysx wanted desperately to make Yaelandra feel better, to re-instill hope into her. Maybe, he thought, just maybe…
He got to his knees on the side of Galgurt’s cot and cleared his mind, he was getting in touch with his goddess of the cosmos. And for a brief moment, he almost could see what Galgurt was dreaming about in his comatose state. He was able to feel an overwhelming sense of happiness and as he snapped out of it, Galgurt’s unmistakable, boisterous laugh echoed in his thoughts. (6 Icon point with the Elf Queen).
“Despite everything,” Crysx said, staring into Yaelandra’s eyes, “He’s still laughing.”
A single tear rolls down Yaelandra’s cheek as she stands up and says, “We have work to do.”
Pride and happiness swells in Crysx’s heart but it’s short lived as Lisbeth looks at him and says, “So let’s not do that again, please. Having one person besides myself in my brain is frustrating enough. I felt the fear you harbor for your father’s endeavor. We’re going to save him, don’t worry.”
With Yaelandra back in the fight to reclaim their home, and Lisbeth and Crysx feeling accomplished, the three of them walk back to the tavern to face the daunting task of the guild meeting on the morrow.
Morning foreshadows another cold and grey winter’s day. The meeting not being until high noon, the group had some time to kill and decided to go investigate their newly acquired property. Two very large doors make up the front of the warehouse, almost making it more akin to a barn. When the doors open, the light from outside floods in to reveal there are variously sized crates, boxes and sacks. Curiosity burns in each of their hearts as they start to rummage through everything. To speed things up, Corbin summons a bunch of sprites to start cracking some of the crates open (a slightly altered Knock cantrip). Mostly what is found is building supplies such as doors, knobs, fittings, nails, lumber etc. Some of the supplies are higher quality than others, and should be useful in the renovations destined to happen. More notably, they found some arms and armor, though not of the best quality. The two best things they found were a set of twin daggers and a strange cylindrical case, that almost looked like it would have a scroll but had a lion’s tail in it instead. They seemed to be companion pieces, the daggers had etching on the blades that seemed to outline a story that matched similar artwork on the scroll case.
The daggers themselves were of magnificent creation. The hilts were different from one another but the etching on the blades were the same. One had a cross guard fashioned like a dragon’s tail, the handle textured to look like wood and the pommel a lion’s paw. The other had a cross guard of a lion’s tail, similar handle and pommel of a dragon’s claw. Lisbeth gifted them to Yaelandra, in an effort to further lift her spirits and help her return to her old self.
“Looks like we have a parasite infestation,” an unfamiliar voice from the door says. Instinctively, they turn to see who spoke. A rather large half-orc stands at the door with his arms crossed, a dwarf at his side and eight other thugs behind them.
To keep the narrative short on this scene, here’s how it went down:
After the run-in with East Harpoon, the crew head outside the city walls to the refugee camp, the place that was agreed on to hold the guild meeting. Maple elects Corbin to give the speech to their guild mates. What’s odd though is that they seem to have grabbed the attention of the guards, who sit on the outskirts of the group intently listening to what has to be said. Corbin gives them a stout speaking to, addressing their disorderly conduct since the entry to the city. He announces that they now have a place to call their own, and that it’ll require unity and hard work to make the best of it before they can reclaim their home.
The highlight of the meeting, however, is inducting Crysx back into the guild after his long time away. Maple decides to do this by a knighting-like ritual with their newly found lion’s tail talisman.
It was time to show the guild their new home. Immediately upon getting there, They were met by Archie and thirty five or so of his thugs.
“I’m not here for a fight,” he said, with a steely coldness, “I’m simply here to say stay out of our way. We own this city. All mercenary contracts go to us. If we catch you meddling, next time we meet there WILL be blood on these cobblestones. You have been warned.” And just like that, they walk off.
A fire burns in the pit of Lisbeth’s belly and the group knows it. To divert everyone’s thoughts, Corbin starts to talk about what has been acquired through the purchasing of this warehouse. Everyone wanders around with curiosity and amazement while the party admires it. Rin Lakehilt, a guild member found in Marblejar now a long time ago, approaches them, stating the idea that a smithy may be able to go behind the building.
“There seems to be enough room, even considering all the smoke and heat it’ll give off.” He smiles at them, giddy as a child though a very old dwarf he is, indeed. “I have the funds and means to have one built. While you all were trying to find a way to make this mess work, I had found a job at a stone cutter/jeweler’s shop. Given me enough coin and contacts to build my own forge. That way we can make our own arms and armor, when we get off the ground.”
He hesitates for a moment before saying reluctantly, “But there is one thing I need from you. See, the Lakehilt family secret to keeping a proper forge is three Phoenix feathers. The sit at the bottom of the coals and encourage them to stay hotter than they normally would. The three feathers can last generations, mine were handed down from my grandad’s dad. If we want the best equipment we can have, I need those feathers.”
After reassuring Rin that they will find some phoenix feathers if they manage their time well, they move on to seek the counsel of Dorne Forgebar, another very high ranking member of the guild, arguably Galgurt’s right hand man. In the midst of their conversation, an eager guild member approached, bubbling and beaming about the plans that he came up with for this place. He clearly had some degree of skill as an architect.
“Slow down there, lad.” Dorne says, in the gruff and concise manner he usually speaks in. “I see one issue with this place that I want fixed within the hour. It’s bloody cold in here,” he points to the gaping double doors letting in winter’s chill, “Cut a more sensible door out of that. We can talk about the rest later” It was that moment that the party realized, Dorne was the dwarf they not only wanted, but needed to take care of this place while they were off doing everything else.
With the mind of a military man, he would be unmatched in instilling discipline among the rabble that is the Axefall. As if by muscle memory, the guild had returned to being a well oiled machine, members running this way and that to put things into order. Having a goal is truly what make these men and women stay orderly and productive.
Stepping outside to admire the fruits of their labor, the group is approached by a dwarf that they had helped in Marblejar some time ago named Obel Bullheart.
“I sort of cheated,” he says timidly, gazing at their feet. “I knew that you had found this place. I thought maybe I could present a gift.” It was in that moment they realized he was holding a rather large hunk of wood in his hand. As he turned it around, it became apparent as to what it was.
It was a tavern sign. The image of a dwarf, holding a two handed war hammer over his left shoulder and a mug of ale in his right hand. He bore an eye patch over his left eye, but a jolly look upon his grey bearded face nonetheless. The words, The Falling Hammer accompanied this accurate visage of Galgurt Galehammer to mark their new home.
Stay Metal \m/
Category: 13th Age, Ald SothaTags: 13th Age, 2016, adventure, Ald Sotha, archmage engine, campaign, creativity, D20, fantasy, game master, gaming, GM, heavymetalgm, ingenuity, murder hobos, Pelgrane Press, player character, RPG, Saturday, sillyness, story, story telling, tabeltop, tabletop