Summer Lands

Day 2: Part 3
Storage Wars

The companions passed through the hidden door one by one, filled with varying degrees of anticipation and fear of whatever lied on the other side, and all were disappointed to find that it was only a storage room.

Set entirely at ease by the commonplace nature of the room they were in, they began to shuffle about searching for useful supplies amongst the clutter. Little did they know of the horror lurking above them…

Just as Thunder Dimples unsealed a barrel of particularly pungent pickles, a net fell on her from above.

Feeling trapped she immediately panicked, entangling herself further by flailing her limbs and falling to the ground in a fit.

“Calm down and cut the damn thing!” Olwen yelled at Thunder Dimples as her eyes scanned the ceiling for the threat.

Olwen’s direction had given Thunder Dimples just enough clarity to remember her dagger, she struggled to draw the blade, and then slashed at her woven captor with unsteady hands.

Meanwhile Robriez and Olwen spotted the assailant. A monkey goblin was chittering and cackling at its handiwork dancing around atop a tall stack of barrels.

Robriez did a running jump off the wall and smacked the simian scamp off his pedestal. The goblinoid fell to the ground and bumped his head on the stone flooring. While he was still dazed Olwen stuck it with her rapier.

Sure the monkey goblin was dead, they searched the rest of the room for additional threats. Finding none, they continued the search for supplies.

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Day 2: Part 2
Houdini Horror

By the time her companions touched down on the cavern floor, Olwen had witnessed the remaining Goblin vanish into what seemed to be a solid rock face.

Robriez scanned the area for threats, and when he only found the body of the fallen goblin, he was concerned. “Where is it?” He signed to Olwen.

“Disappeared over there.” She signed back and then pointed towards the place it had vanished.

Robriez stealthily approached the wall and inspected it. A moment later he turned back around and signed “Hidden door. Prepare to fight.”

Olwen turned to Thunder Dimples to relay the message in a whisper “Prepare for a fight, they’ll probably come to us with reinforcements.”

Olwen brought out her longbow and notched and arrow with a practiced hand, stilling her breath and preparing to fire as soon as she spotted an enemy. Thunder Dimples followed suit and armed herself with one of the short-bows that they had appropriated from the goblin camp above, but couldn’t copy Olwen’s calm demeanor. She simply wasn’t acclimated to the anticipation of battle.

A few long seconds pass and finally they see movement. Olwen quickly drew and loosed her arrow on the beast, shortly followed by Thunder Dimple’s arrow. It wasn’t till after lowering their weapons that they were able to get a good look at their quarry, and it wasn’t what they were expecting.

The towering goblinoid let out a howl of rage as it pulled the arrows from it’s shaggy flank. Olwen’s eyes grew wide as she recognized the beast. It was a Bugbear.

Luckily the creature didn’t seem to detect where the shots had come from. The Bugbear had come out of a different hidden door than the one Robriez had set his ambush. The ladies remained undetected, planning their next move, while Robriez crept closer to the Bugbear to attack. Before he reached the fiend, another appeared adjacent to him, followed by a smaller figure, the goblin who had escaped Olwen earlier.

Thunder Dimples whispered something to Beearfield, imbuing him with magic, while Olwen nocked another arrow, waiting for an opening. Robriez achieved stealth until he was merely five paces from the beasts. The uninjured bugbear let out a gravelly cry pointing at Robriez, making it obvious they had seen him, and battle ensued.

Robriez dashed to the one who had cried out in alarm and placed a deft blow between its eyes. The beast fell to the ground stunned and its accomplice turned on Robriez. It swung a mace at Robriez’s head and it narrowly missed as the monk nimbly ducked under it. At that moment, Olwen and Thunder Dimples loosed another volley of arrows, Thunder Dimples missed the upright bugbear, while Olwen’s arrow skewered the goblin through and through.

The goblin seemed to take a moment to realize it was dead, and then fell to the ground. Beearfield joined the fray, jabbing his stinger deep into the standing bugbear’s chest. Both his poison and the spell Thunder Dimples had primed him with took effect, making it look instantly sickly. Meanwhile the collapsed Bugbear managed to peel itself from the floor, regaining its bearings, but unable to otherwise act.

Robriez pounced on the still unsteady bugbear, releasing a flurry of blows, and rendering it stunned once again. In the same instant his companion was reunited with the dirt, the sickly bugbear took a swing at Robriez. It managed to land a blow, but wasn’t as effective in his weakened state.

The next volley of arrows hit their mark, and Beearfield had another go with his stinger. Things went on much like this for a few more minutes until the sickly bugbear gave in to his wounds. The other followed soon after. His systematic beatings had done more than keep him sidelined, and had worn him down quite a bit before the team ever focused their efforts on him.

After the confrontation Robriez was especially battered, luckily, they found a few strange health potions and other supplies amongst the remains.

“This is Gatorade.” Said the druid with confidence, holding up the bottle of syrupy red liquid. “It’ll heal you up well. You should take some Robbie.”

Neither the monk nor ranger had ever heard of Gatorade, but they also had zero alchemical experience between them, and so they trusted her.

Robriez swallowed the potion in a large gulp, thinking it would be better to get it over with, but it wasn’t. A glob got caught in the back of his mouth and as he choked it down he felt a strange energy come over him. Some of his wounds healed but it was more than that. He felt like he could move faster. No. He felt like he HAD to move faster.

“Alright, I’ll lead the way.” He said in a jittery tone and sped toward the hidden door he had first discovered.

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Day 2: After the Fall (Part 1)
Into the Catacombs

The morning light woke gently Olwen and Robriez. Thunder Dimples had been up for a few hours now as her watch had been last. They began the day quietly, packing all the supplies from the camp to take with them on their journey and eating some of Olwen’s trail rations.

As Olwen was cataloguing some weapons in the back reaches of the grotto, she noticed a strange section in the rock face. She called over the others and together they opened the secret passage hidden there.

“That squirming little rat!” Olwen yelled, and made a beeline to where the prisoner laid, grunting and squeaking angrily as she did. The creature made apologetic vocalizations in attempt to quell her wrath, but was unsuccessful. She gagged him with a rag from the floor and drug him to the secret door where the others were still observing the passage.

The passage only went a few feet before what seemed like a dead end. Upon advancing into the recess they saw the side rails of a ladder peeking up from a hole that went down further than Olwen or Thunder Dimples could see, but Robriez assured them it was only about 50 feet.

“Alright. I’ll go down first and scout. Do either of you know sign language? The Drow variant?” Olwen asked, still peering down the hole, straining her eyes to try and see the bottom.

“I know Drow.” Robriez answered.

“Perfect. Then I can sign you a message from the bottom.”

Olwen adjusted her bow around her back so she could fit down the hole and slipped down stealthily. She touched down on the solid rock floor silently, and immediately slipped out of the dim circle of light emanating from the shaft entrance she had come from and into the shadows.

Her eyes took a moment to adjust, then she was able to see the occupants of the chamber. Two common goblins were the only inhabitants, though Olwen suspected that there must be other chambers. Why take such precaution with the secret entrance just to hide one room and two more goblins?
Meanwhile there was trouble above. The pesky prisoner had been working on slipping his bonds, patiently waiting to be totally free before making any noticeable move. Finally unbound, he bolted for the falls. Thunder Dimples clasped her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream, and Robriez took immediate action. He couldn’t risk the captive calling out and blowing Olwen’s cover when she could be in a room with countless enemies.

He effortlessly intercepted the goblin and landed several blows, using a paralyzing ability so he couldn’t cry out. Unfortunately the force of the blows paired with the damage he had sustained the day prior was too much for him to handle, and he was finished. Robriez made sure he was dead and not just paralyzed from his blows, then hurried back to the opening.

As soon as she saw him return, Olwen signed “Two goblins. I’ll surprise them, then you hurry down”

“Ok. Careful.” He signed back then quietly relayed the plan to Thunder Dimples, who nodded solemnly.

They heard the quiet snap of an arrow leaving a bow, quickly followed by the dull thud of the arrow meeting its mark, then a thud as the goblin hit the stone floor, presumably dead.

Robriez immediately mounted the ladder and slid down to the bottom, followed by Thunder Dimples, and lastly Beearfield, lazily drifting down behind her.

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Day1: River Run
A Chance Meeting

The morning was cold and crisp in the Gilsonite Mountains, which was not unusual at that altitude even in the Summerlands, but Olwen Salhe’s teeth still chattered as she watched her own breath. The lighthouse was only just starting to shine at full strength, its brilliance full of promise for the bright new day, but it hadn’t pushed back the cold of night just yet. And, in the shade of the dark forest it was still exceptionally chilly. “Why didn’t the commander send me someplace warm, like Henthorn Lake?” Salhe grumbled to herself.

She continued to trudge quietly through the wilderness, watching her surroundings with a practiced eye. There was plenty of evidence of activity, broken branches where something rushed through the brush, fresh prints from a night of foraging, and the disturbed earth of a recent kill. But, none of those things concerned Salhe, no she was after a different prey. Word had gotten to the Kayrin Guard of goblin sightings on the road. The upper command hadn’t thought much of it sense the reports were from the north of the Animas Range, except there were too many to ignore. So, expecting to find little more than a hunting camp, if even that, so they asked for ‘volunteers’ to investigate. Salhe had to be drunk when the call came, celebrating her graduation from training, and had to open her mouth. It was all a blur to her, but she might have suggested the commander do it himself since he’s such a ‘cold ass’. And, the next thing she knew, she was heading on a solo mission.

Skulking along an old game trail, Olwen sees the frothing rapids of the Gillribbon River slowly come into view. The Kayrin Guard had been getting reports of strange activities along it’s banks; goblin sightings and the like, very unusual for an area so far inland from the Twilight Boarder. Because of this Olwen wasn’t expecting much to come of her scouting mission. These kinds of abnormal sightings were usually only the result of wary farmers seeing a strange log or the like. Instead, what Olwen saw crouching by the river startled her more than any goblin would.

The man crouching by the river would have looked entirely ordinary had not been for his blue skin. Olwen stealthily draws her bow and cautiously approaches the strange man. The strange man spots her almost immediately, realizing she’s been spotted, Olwen takes a defensive stance, ready to shoot the man if he makes a move, and asks “What are you?”

“I’m a Samsaran.” He answered as if the answer were plain.

“I have no idea what that is. Where do you come from?”

“I come from the monastery in the tundra.”

So the man was not only strange looking, but was an illegal alien as well. Olwen couldn’t think of a single instance where any humanoid caught on the wrong side of the twilight boarder wasn’t eliminated on sight, but those others had all been barbaric goblins and orcs, this intruder seemed sensible. She decided she should bring him back to her commanding officer. “Ok sir I’m going to have to ask you to-”
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“Heeeeeeck!!!” She was cut off by a cry coming from the river. Olwen no longer had time to take a prisoner, as there was a wild haired woman being swept away by the rapids, which led straight to a waterfall a few miles east.

Without hesitation, Olwen ran full tilt towards the bank grumbling to herself as she did. “Come and help!” She commanded the blue man. The so-called Samsaran obviously had no clue how to help, but he didn’t dare refuse the call of the fiery ranger and ran to her side.

“What do I-?”

“Hold this!” She cut him off, shoving the end of a hempen rope in his hand, the other end of which she had tied securely to the arrow notched in her longbow.

Without further explanation, Olwen made a shot, lodging the arrow firmly in a tree-stump on the opposite bank. Smiling at her success, she dropped her weapons and planted herself firmly, grabbing the rope with both hands.

“Now you try and catch this rope and you can shimmy to safety!” She yelled to the woman.

She didn’t respond, but she obviously understood, because she instantly became less frantic and more focused, seemingly readying herself to grab the rope as she passed under it.

The woman couldn’t slow her progress in the rapids any significant amount, but she managed to time it perfectly despite the speed and planted a firm grip on the rope. Success! Or so they thought for half a second before the force of the current reached Olwen and the monk’s end of the rope, which jerked Olwen forward and ripped the rope from the blue man’s grasp.

When Olwen suddenly found herself falling off the bank, she flung one hand wide, the other she kept occupied with a death grip on the rope, and somehow managed to grip the side of the bank. She was then suspended slightly above the lower bank between the ledge and the river because the strength of the rapids pulled the rope tight.

The force of the current took its toll on the old stump on the other bank as well, and it began to come loose from the muddy soil of the bank, and the urgency of the situation grew yet again.

“Are you going to climb? Because otherwise I’m letting go!” She yelled to the woman in the river.

“Uh, I think you’d better let go; it looks like you’re about to fall in too. I’ll try to swim to the bank on my own.” She responded.

“Alright, whenever you’re ready!”

The druid let go of the rope and began the struggle to shore, meanwhile Olwen had let go of the rope and was struggling to climb the bank, but her hands kept slipping. The monk came to her aid, but lifted with his back, and not his knees, and so they both went tumbling down the banks and into the river. The monk regained his bearings quickly and began to work with the druid in order to get back to shore safely. Olwen, however, was regretting the fact that she hadn’t paid much mind to her swimming instructors, and being swept downriver barely able to keep her head above water.

Olwen was swept downriver by the ever-growing rapids, getting closer to the falls she knew they lead up to, before that though, she knew there was one more chance to get a foothold, there was a bridge approaching.

She swam to the opposite edge of the river and prepared the try to grab onto one of the supports of the bridge. She grappled a beam and began the shimmy up, struggling with the extra weight of her waterlogged clothes. The other two had freed themselves from the river and were atop the bridge preparing to lower a rope down, when Olwen slipped and reentered the river with a splash. All the others could do was watch her head bob back to the surface on the other side of the bridge.

As soon as she had a moment to take a breath, Olwen began to try to find another way as not to fall to her death. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. Where had the stump gone that she had shot a rope into? Last she saw it had been coming loose from the bank, it was a long shot, but if it had gotten caught somewhere she could hold onto it and possibly pull herself to safety. She frantically searched the water, hoping that she hadn’t already passed it, and spotted it in the last place she would have wanted it to be.

Right on the edge of the waterfall she saw the familiar stump caught up in some gnarled roots and rocks. Seeing no other option, she swam to T herself up with the stump, and preparing to catch herself with the rope as she fell.

Miraculously she was able to catch the rope and firmly hold herself hanging from the cliff. She only took a moment to observe her surroundings and decide on her next step, knowing that the arrow that held the rope in place may very well give under her weight, as it had already been thoroughly tugged.

What she observed made her both happy and nervous. Hidden beneath the falls was a goblin scouting camp, complete with five of the creatines skulking about. She hadn’t been sent on a mission for nothing! That’ll show that hard-ass of a commander! There actually was a threat of goblins in the area! A threat that she was poorly equipped to deal with as she had dropped her rapier and longbow on the bank miles behind her…

Knowing that climbing up would not only likely get her spotted, but also do nothing in the way of getting her safely to a bank, she decided that she better fast-rope down. Wishing she had the cover of night, but knowing that there was nothing to do to change that fact, she slid down the rope and quietly and quickly as possible.

Somehow not one of the goblins spotted her, and she was saved the hassle of trying to dodge arrows as she descended. ‘Wow, these ones must be dumber than they look.’ Olwen thought as she crouched behind the nearest bush observing the oblivious enemies.

She didn’t get to ponder their stupidity for very long before the Samsaran came crashing down from the last switchback on the side of the cliff, landing betwixt three of the goblins, all of whom burst out in uncontrollable laughter at the poor man’s acrobatic blunder. Resisting the urge to laugh as well, she saw that the other two goblins had noticed the blue man and were moving to attack him.
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She pounced on one, kicking him square in his little jaw, instantly killing him, and shouted at the other “Hey numb-nuts, the threat is over here!” in his native tongue.

Apparently the term, numb-nuts really didn’t sit well in his tiny brain, because in a fit of rage he dropped his sword and came running at her frothing at the mouth. He managed to reach Olwen and clamp down on her leg with his jaw, but he did little more damage than he would have attacking with a feather. A few punches and a swing of her leg quickly dispatched the monster.

Even though she was able to dispatch two of the goblins so quickly, she wasn’t confident in her ability to take on the three remaining with her bare hands, and since they were all still distracted by the monk’s blunder, she had time to locate a barrel of weapons and equip herself with a short-sword. The weapon was crude, obviously crafted by the creatures that owned it, but it would do.

One of the goblins finally broke out of his laughing fit and spotted Olwen wielding the sword. He charged, missed, and was stabbed in the back by the ranger. Meanwhile the monk finally regained his bearings and landed a few swift blows to one of the two still laughing at him, and the creature fell to the ground. The last goblin was stung by a giant bee commanded by the woman they had pulled from the river and the goblin fell over instantly feeling the effects of the poison.

“Good job Beearfield!! That’s my boy!”
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The wild haired woman ran up to join the rest of them, praising her pet.

Olwen got to work tying up the poisoned goblin, deciding that it would be best if she brought a prisoner to her commander. Once she had relocated him to a straw bed, she proceeded to remove her waterlogged armor by the goblin’s campfire.

“Whoa whoa whoa, what are you doing stripping?!?” Yelled the druid, shielding the all-seeing compound eyes of her bee and turning her face away.

“I’m not striping, I wear clothes under my armor. Who wouldn’t?” She dropped her chest-piece to the ground and wringing the bottom of her shirt. “I’ll freeze to death if I don’t dry off, and that isn’t happening with that armor on.”

The others joined her by the fire and began to dry themselves as well.

“So, now that the things have settled down a bit, do you two care to make introductions? My name is Olwen Sahle, a Private in the Kayrin Guard.”

“My name is Robriez Xompran, envoy of the Samsarin Monastery in the tundra.”

“Well my name is Thunder Dimples, and this here is my friend Beearfield.”

Robriez and Olwen both stared at the druid, waiting for her to reveal her real name. When nothing came in the following moments, Olwen spoke again.

“Okay, now that we’re all familiar with each other, we should start getting ready to camp. It’s getting dark already, and though I hate that my weapons are on the ground back there, it would take far too long to retrieve them, and there’s no place in between here and there so fit for camp.”

“Actually, I could go grab that for you real quick.” Robriez interjected.

“How? I don’t see a horse anywhere do you?” Olwen replied in an austere tone.

“I’m a monk. I have trained to be fast.”

“Very well. Just hurry back. If you make off with my gear I will find you.”

Robriez ran back up the river with inhuman speed.

Rather than just sit and wait for the possible return of the strange blue man with her weapons, Olwen decided to try and interrogate the prisoner.

Thunder Dimples sat playing with her pet as Olwen emitted clipped, squeaky grunts, and the little creature returned similar vocalizations. She hadn’t the slightest what Olwen was trying to accomplish by making baby sounds at the thing, but she could infer it wasn’t working since Olwen seemed to be getting progressively agitated as the encounter continued.

Eventually Olwen reached her limit and grabbed the goblin by his collar, seeming to threaten a throttling, just as Robriez returned with her rapier and longbow. She pushed the prisoner back into the hay mattress she had drug him to before.

“That was quick.” She said, still grimacing from her interaction with the little green fellow.

“I try.” Robriez returned the weapons to their owner and sat by the fire.

“Ok, so we should sleep in shifts. I can take first watch, then Robriez, then Thunder Dimples. Now get some sleep we have a trek in the morning.”

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Welcome to your Adventure Log!
A blog for your campaign

Every campaign gets an Adventure Log, a blog for your adventures!

While the wiki is great for organizing your campaign world, it’s not the best way to chronicle your adventures. For that purpose, you need a blog!

The Adventure Log will allow you to chronologically order the happenings of your campaign. It serves as the record of what has passed. After each gaming session, come to the Adventure Log and write up what happened. In time, it will grow into a great story!

Best of all, each Adventure Log post is also a wiki page! You can link back and forth with your wiki, characters, and so forth as you wish.

One final tip: Before you jump in and try to write up the entire history for your campaign, take a deep breath. Rather than spending days writing and getting exhausted, I would suggest writing a quick “Story So Far” with only a summary. Then, get back to gaming! Grow your Adventure Log over time, rather than all at once.

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