Festival of the Lion

Elves.... ugh

So, where do I start… hmm well lets just get this out of the way first. I hate pointy eared, arrogant, stuck-up, supposedly all knowing, powerful, sly talking, slim tongued, skinny ass, no ass, high forehead, long haired, damn old, stupid, swift walking, gliding, crack excuse for a human, not as bad smelling as a dwarf, not smarter then a gnome, uglier then a half-orc, tree hugging, huge targets to shoot an arrow into, convoluted, political, back stabbing, son-of-a-bitch slaying, white, black, green, yellow, orange, two, three, four, five, one, horrible ranger, cant track for shit, cant shoot for shit, cant hide for shit, cant stealth for shit, bow making abilities which are sub-par and cant shoot an arrow half as far as a mordent made long bow could go, hippogriff riding, introverts that hide behind their own walls, kinda caring a little, shallow, fucking elves. Oh and they can all go die in Vek’s fire balls. Now the second thing is, well there is no second thing.

Hey can I see your bow?

My name is Gar and I killed a god.

Love Letter No. 6

My love,

Time passes so slowly without you my dear. Minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days. Sometimes it feels like my journey will never end. How long must this last? I am growing weary of some of my companions. I can’t tell you how many times our missions have been compromised due to their lack of respect for figures of authority. It appears a few of them cannot control their tongue, and when this happens it is up to me to try and remedy the situation. Sometimes I wish I was able to cast a permanent silence spell on them… Oh my! I can turn them into bunnies! That may work just as well if not better! I will keep that in mind for future reference. Oh how I wish you were here darling. I miss your warm embrace. I miss our conversations. Most of all I miss feeling like somebody cared about me. You were the first person to ever show genuine interest in me, the first person to really listen to my thoughts and really… care. If I send you scrolls of animal messenger, will you write me dear? It would be really lovely to hear words of encouragement from one whom I care so deeply for. It would honestly be really nice for me to hear anything from you love. I do hope you receive my letters. I will send you a scroll along with my next letter, until then stay safe my dear.

Pip <3

Not only Azrayael hears her call

“I’m going to rob you dirty, pointed ear freaks” : Not exactly what was said, but it might have been a warmer welcome than what the party actually did.

Dubai disappears into the shadows, or attempts to anyway, she is still clearly visible and just looks shady trying to hide when the elven ambassadors arrive.

Saphir went below the deck just before they arrived, way to give a warm welcome to your own people, she never did come back up but a stowaway? Who was strangely attractive, did show up for the duration of the Elven visit, at least someone was hospitable.

Grace brandishing a whip, like usual, didn’t bother to put it away as the Ambassador landed on our ship, and even glared at him while unraveling the whip.

The leader of the elven greeters went to talk to Cpt. Kiwi and Grace, Corinthas and Dubai: rudely, and blatantly eavesdropped on the conversation, the elves noticed and taken aback by their extreme audacity demanded that Kiwi turn the ship around and head back.

Azrayael dumbfounded by the events, said nothing and just stared in shock at what had to be the perfect way to de-rail our very simple quest of bringing the princess to our old allies for protection.

After their demand the ambassador’s flew off on their hippogriphs.

Our druid turned into a bird and followed them, must have been some amazing diplomatic skills to convince them to come back and give us a second chance.

Pip returning fist warning us that the elves were coming back and anyone who could not be kind to them should go below deck.

Shockingly the paladin Azrayael immediately restrained Grace and Dubai and began to take them below deck when they both tried several times to escape, Dubai after a few minutes managed to duck out and run but Grace was held tight, The Paladin dragged her kicking and screaming below deck for the duration of the Elven visit.

As we flew over one of the elven cities it was everything I expected and more, beautiful ancient castles, waterfalls and the finest gardening this side of Mordent, yes it even put our gnomish ones to shame. Wildlife and peaceful animals seemed to live in harmony with the Elven protectors.

Now I’m not one to eavesdrop, but as im working on the steam pipes outside Azrayael’s room I can’t help but notice a clear, majestic female voice, she references him several times as “My champion” and gives him a quest he must do in the Elven kingdom, she also mentions that it must be done alone, “Do not worry my champion, your companions will be safe here, they will not need you to protect them from evil while you complete my quest”. Azrayael says after he has made sure the Princess reaches her new quarters safely he will immediately set off on the task.

Later on they set off to escort the princess while Dubai and Grace were “nominated” to stay and help service the ship and prepare it for the next adventure, JOY!

Oh no, here comes grace again with that whip, I’ve got to go for now…….

Eurich, Gnomish Engineer on flight with Cpt. Kiwi’s crew

Vengeance - 1

Corinthas sat outside his tent warming himself by the fire. He looked back at his makeshift shelter, thinking it could be too close. “Nah, twenty yards should be good,” he spoke to himself. Once comfortably settled in, he moved the tent back another ten feet or so and looked up at his handywork.

“All of them, every single one would…” the man was cut off by a hard blow to his face. He laughed and spat on the floor. “You’re going to die searching.”

Corinthas looked around at the facility. He had never been so disgusted; no windows, no lights, not even a place to sit, just a dingy empty temple, exactly the kind of thing these bastards would worship in. Not a single sign or clue of any of the desecrating, horrific work that they perform on a regular basis in a place like this. As far as he was concerned, the worshippers of Veccna were due to be judged.

As he again looked around the room he looked into the hate-filled faces of the cultists. He remembered back to when he was eight and hate began to fill his heart as well.

He began pull out materials.

“I’m pretty sure this is everything,” Corinthas said aloud. His prisoners just stared at him, some spitting, some snarling, some just sitting quietly enraged.

“I’ll tell you exactly what I’m doing, no mystery here. I’m going to let god judge you. This will soon be hallowed ground,” and with that he left the temple leaving his enemies tied up inside.

He circled the property for an entire day reading the words on the scroll he was given and following the instructions exactly. When he had finished, he sat down and prayed and began to setup his camp for the night.

Kacaga: The miniseries ep. 1

“I was starting to think this was gonna be easy” the large half-orc said aloud to no one in particular. It had been days since his last battle and for a half-orcs battle is everything. The large cat like creatures that stalked through the trees waited patiently for an opening. The half-orcs eyes locked onto one of the beasts, judging from it’s size and scars it could only be the lead of this pack. The alpha cat stared back sizing up it’s opponent in turn. The muscles of the half-orc tensed preparing himself to deflect the oncoming crenshaws pounce. The crenshaw sent out a ferocious hiss and sprung at the armored half-orc. A loud buzz and a blast of arcane energy flew inches from the armored warriors ear, striking the alpha in mid air. Sending the creature hurling towards the ground. The half-orc turned and screamed to hooded man behind him.
“dammit Veck! stop stealing my kills!”
Veck the wizard shrugged, with the corner of his mouth set into a smirk. “Looks like it’s still got some fight in it”
The creature stirred and slowly got to it’s feet looking rather annoyed at the mages interference. “Looks like I’ll get this one yet” mused The warrior. He rushed towards the beast with war hammer held high, the beast reared readying to swipe at the oncoming orc. As the half-orc closed in for the kill a tall thin elf gracefully stepped through the tree line behind the chrenshaw, plunging a dagger hilt deep into the back of animal’s skull. The half-orc stopped in his tracks his face red with anger. “Saphire?!?… dammit! he was mine” the elf did not even acknowledge the half-orcs complaint she merely pulled the dagger from the creatures skull and wiped it clean. “well if you are so keen on fighting today why not deal with the rest of these beasts” suggested the sorcerer. The warrior had been so intent on fighting the alpha that he had forgotten all about the other cats that now surrounded himself, the rouge and the sorcerer. He counted 3 beasts.
‘These three are mine, don’t get in the way!‘growled the enraged orc.
Responded the sorcerer and rouge respectively.
As the half-orc turned away from his fellow adventures and back to battle ahead. A powerful cry ushered from the woods just behind the remaining beasts
The Warrior could only watch in horror as a small being dressed in traveling clothes and an armored human burst into view, dispatching the three surprised cats with ease. This was not going to be Kacaga’s day.

Amanda's Story


Peaking it’s nose from a small hole, a rat squeaked nervously sniffing the air. The smell of meat and blood filled his nose and flared his appetite. The cracked roof provided the only light, a small glow of moonlight, just enough to navigate safely. It scurried along the wall stopping about every 2 feet to listen for danger. His whiskers twitched nervously but after a moment he moved on considering it safe enough, always ready to dart back to his hole. Around a table leg and under a bed he continued to search. His stomach made him even bolder as he scurried across the room. A small sound, a whimper, causes him to stop. Cautiously sniffing the air it’s body is tense and ready to spring back. A long moment passes and he continues on again towards the smell of blood. He reaches a small drop and licks it enthusiastically, sniffing for the source. A fleshy shape about his size a few inches away. The rat approaches slowly, smelling the sweet meal to come. Scurrying close it gives a final whiff and it’s hunger overcomes him. He opens his jaws and bites into the warm flesh.

Amanda shrieked. A sharp pain in her foot. Kicking wildly her foot brushed the greasy fur of a rodent. She heard it squeak in response and scurry off into the darkness. Letting out a sob she brought her knees close to her chest. Gingerly, Amanda tended to her foot checking the damage, quietly crying. Her sniffles echoing in the cold, dark room.

Her once delicate fingers were bloodied and raw. A loose stone in the corner of the room had led to earth. In desperation she had spent a whole night digging and clawing at the ground hoping to make an exit. After exhausted from hours of working the cold ground, the pain excruciating as she dug deeper. Her fingernails broken or completely removed. As she found her way making progress she hit another layer of stone. A foundation for the walls of her prison. The little hope she had, expired that night.

She spent most of her time now asleep. So weak from the lack of food and water. When awake she prayed and cried. To stay awake meant the pain of hunger and thirst. It had rained a few nights past, the leaks in the roof bringing her a small amount of water. The puddles had dried up now and she had been a day without a drop.

Amanda was not sure how long she had been imprisoned. 6 days perhaps but she had stop paying attention to time after the 3rd day. It all felt like eternity.

Curling herself into a ball Amanda closed her eyes and silently prayed for death.

“Click” Amanda’s eyes fluttered open.
“Was I asleep?” she thought, “did I just dream that?” The last she remembered was her praying when she heard an unfamiliar noise of the past nights.
“Click” again. From across the room, the door.
Pulling herself to the wall she tried to see in the dark room. A small amount of light could be seen dancing at the bottom of the door, as if a lantern were on the other side.
“Click” one last time, the doors hinges screamed in defiance as it was slowly opened. The light from a bright lantern obscuring Amanda’s vision. As her eyes adjusted she could see a tall figure. A man with a rough face and thin hair. Strongly built with thick arms and fat grubby hands. The man sat the lantern on the ground and untied a rope from his belt.
Amanda’s mind raced, she wanted to speak, wanted to yell for help, anything but was to weak. The man walked towards her rope outstretched and grabbed at her hair pulling her from the wall.
Amanda screeched as she was thrown down, a handful of hair ripped out of her scalp. The man grabbed at her wrists and started to tie them together.

“Who are you? Why are you doing this? Amanda cried. Her captor did not respond. She kicked at him and tried to fight off his hands while he tried to tie her up. With the weak attempts she managed a good blow across the mans face. A small trickle of blood from a scratch of her few fingernails. The man paused for a moment and checked his cheek, wiping the blood onto his hand and looking at it. His eyes squinted, amused. Amanda scooted backwards from the man and tried to use the wall to stand up. A smirk crept across his face. Walking forward he brought his hand back and in a swift swing knocked her back to the ground. Her head hit the stone floor making her vision flash, then slowly her eyelids began to close. She tried to stay awake but failed. The man picked up the rope and towered over her.
“Help…. Father…” she slurred as she slipped into unconsciousness.

The Clock Ticks

Alone in the darkness, Saphir managed to find a quite place to herself on a ship filled with rather annoyingly loud people.

Each day wracked another set of worries on top of her. They came closer and closer to Ethe’ron with each passing minute.

She had devised a plan, a web of lies to pass through Ethe’ron without notice, however the company she now kept, made it difficult.

It seems as though they continually cycled through people. Adding when one died, losing as one came back to life, splitting off to gather back together…it was too difficult to keep track of.

Seriously, how the hell did Corinthas even come back? Despite that, Saphir would never really trust him again. You know, when he attempted to hold person on her a while back. And that stupid zone of truth.

She would have tried to get the Paladin on her side, but if a passing beauty even winked at him, he would spill his secrets at her feet. The Druid, while never as loose lipped as the Paladin, entrusting her with this still didn’t settle right. Some thing would go wrong.

The tiny woman with the whip was out of the question. She was just plain crazy. The mage? Hell no. The Bard? She’ll pass. The Ranger? He might rat on her just for the fun of it.

It was at this point she kind of longed for Kacaga. That huge half orc would serve as a mighty distraction to the Palace, and with him, she might have slipped by unnoticed.

No, it seems she would have to figure this out by herself.

They need a good smoting!

Journal entry 132

HERETICS! The lot of them! except maybe that crazy ass magic man. he seems nice enough, seems to understand that sometimes a good smiting is in order. But the rest of the lot HERETICS! that shady young girl who always hiding in the corner lookin around with those cold eyes I don’t trust her, and worse of all she turns into all kinds of beasts at the drop of a hat. that just ain’t what the good lord intended! That other cleric is even worse comin’ back from the dead that Blasphemy! But the worse of them all is that damn arrow shooting son of a beholder! he had the gall to insult his lord almighty. he gots a good smoting for that i tell ya. Still i gotta remeber the great words of the lord in vegitarians 15:7

“Those who take up my call must always remain true. and healith those in needith of healin and smitiith those in need of a good old fashion smiten.”

so as long as this group of nut cases keeps gettin’ themselfs in trouble i gotta be there to healith them and like wise as long as they need a good smoten’ i’ll stick around.


To the High Priest

Sir, please do not be alarmed if you have heard that I had perished. I have returned by the will of St. Cuthbert to finish the judgment that I had begun. I am well and wish that you are enjoying the same.

I am deeply troubled by recent occurances. Earlier today, while making repairs to our airship (very long story…perhaps for another time) we were assaulted by a great and powerful being I could only assume was divine. He was massive and plated in gold. He was a construct the quality of which I have never seen. He claimed that I did not belong on this plane and that I should be in the other. When I confronted him, describing my return and quest, he apologized and said that it appears that someone wants me dead.

I’m sure plenty of people want me dead, but to go to the extent to send a divine being after me seems a little obsessive. I must be important. Or someone really, really hates it when people are given a second chance at life in order to save the lives of others. On a more realistic note, The Dark One’s power is great, but I don’t think he sees our entire group as nearly as much a threat as his own daughter, let alone just me. Something else is at work here. There is another power that seeks after me and me alone. Perhaps something opposed to my specific purpose? Or opposed to what I stand for? The only other people who would go to such lengths to have me killed are the Worshippers of Vecna, but they haven’t acted nor have I heard of anything in ages, though this does fit their usual methods. Deception, lies, secrets, that which they hold most sacred is naught but an abomination.

I pray all is well with you. Please write soon and if you have any news or any information that would help me in regards to this, I would very much appreciate it.

In the name of the Great Judge, St. Cuthbert,

Love Letter #2

My Love,

How I am able to write you still, I don’t know. It appears that even death itself cannot keep me from making my way back to you. I should be gone, dead, a corpse at the feet of my enemy. However after my soul left my body and begun to descend unto the heavens, I was spared. A familiar face stood in my path and said it was not my time, that the world needed me to complete my journey, lest it fall unto darkness, yet a price was to be paid for my return to the mortal realm and before I could protest she was gone and I was again of flesh and blood. She gave her own life, her immortality, so I might fulfill my destiny. What a strange thought… Destiny… A thought I believed only existed in the tales my grandmother told me when I was young. How naive i was back then… Alas, it appears I am nearing my destination. I must bid you farewell for now. I will write you again soon darling. Take care of yourself dear. I love you with all my heart.

Pip <3


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