No Right Side


After oozes, got a chance to write in journal. While I was writing last entry, Ninja scounted ahead, and woak uo some sort of Draconic-spider-thingy. Not Fun. Ninja got disembowelled and pumped full of poison. Friend Druid charged ahead with his mount, and joined the grapple. Both monsters wrestled each other. Epic battle to watch. Ninja escaped with his life, and druid tended to his wounds. DragonSpider fell.

Next room was an armory. We awoke some constructs, burning with a red flame. They swarmed us, and ate my axe. I took a few hits…and the Beast came out. Not intended, but it did allow me to wipe out most of the constructs with my claws. Thankfully, party did not kill me once I explained everything. Mage seams offput however. Perhaps I can prove that I’m not like my father to him.

Final room was our prize. A massive holy artifact. Guarded by more constructs. Thanlkfully, between my wolfish fir, and the mage’s spell, they fell like sheep before my claws. We got the artifact. And that’s all that matters.


Acquired a new logbook among belongings after previous journal destroyed in shipwreck. Probbably for the best. Was almost full after adventures with Inigio.

Was released from prison today, along with friend-druid and a few others. Seam to be the and quite type though. Release came at a price however. New order of solders, Blackness and Whiteness? Unholy Sunlight? Holy Darkness? Something or other. Made of us few. Intended to undertake sensitive missions to keep state’s hands clean. Chuckled a bit at that. Government reminds me of the Aldmeri somewhat. Kill traders to the state, and get my freedom after a few missions? Good deal to me. Better then rotting in prison.

However, second catch. Got a mark burned into my hand (Drawing of the mark) Looks like same symbol of nation, and symbol on cape. Smelt like some sort of Geas. Was told was for “Control”. Basically magical handcuffs. Hope it doesn’t read minds. Met new commander, Told us to liberate fort/dungeon/scarydarkplace from something or other for new Order base.

Took two steps and was almost turned to Stone. Scout turned into a statue. Bull-like things attacked before we could react. Took em down with help from druid. Next room had a chest. Ninja attempted to collapse the cealing for some reason. Nobody searched for traps, and one got trigged. Stupid Mistake. Almost lost my legs. Druid’s Pet almost lost his life. Mage’s saved the day. Ish. Got out before oozes burnt through my pants. Looted chest, and now have a breather moment. Writing in journal.

Breaking The Chains
Dream of Aquor von Canto

The image of a crying woman. An orcish guard watching over her, himself more terrified then the chieftain hulking over him. . The weak cries of protest.

“Chief…certently selling the hostages back would give us more gold to recruit and equip our warriors with..”

A brutish punch between the orcs to remind the lesser who was in charge.

  • “Hah! Do you care nothing of honor? Of glory on a battlefield? You, who would parley with the humans, and allow there wizard’s to practice dark magics right under our mountainside? You are weak.”*

“Our forces are strong,..” came the protest from the guardsman but, we lack the numbers too…."

“I won’t let MY people starve to death in the desert! I will stop at nothing – NOTHING – to ensure a proud and glorious future for the orcs. These “adventurers” are but a test of our strength. We will pass this trial, just as we have passed others."

“Warchief, I…”

“These humans are less then us, warrior. Our suffering is at an end. When this war is won, our people will see prosperity at last. We are Orcs! We are slaves to nothing and no one!
The orc’s voice fell to a low whisper.

And when the time comes…I will burn away any remnants of weakness within us……

Guarding The Rich, Hunting the Poor
Or, why you don't trust Drow

The chests were carried back into the mannor of the elated Donovan Wilde ,who promptly rewarded everyone for there efforts. There we also met two new strangers, a Drow, named Ilyich Trotsky, as well as a friend that Master Von Canto had neglected to mention before, a warrior from the northern tribes, referred to only by his clan name, the Purple Worm. Just as my Master was thanking everyone, and getting ready to go, it was revealed that the Merchant had an ulterior motive….his guardsmen had fallen ill, and he required our talents in order to guard an upcoming party of his.

This raised several alarm bells in not only my masters head, but his companion’s heads as well:

1. How does the entire guard-staff of, quite literately, the richest man in the world all fall ill for the same time period, much less of the same infection?
2. How can a seemingly mild-mannered infection (Filth Fever) render an entire garrison not only unable to work, but require “The best treatment” in the nearby town over?
3. Why did this Mr. Wilde intrust both his life, and the well-being of his home to, for all intents and purposes, to complete strangers?

Only two kinds of people make such decisions; fools, or masterminds, masquerading as fools.

It was decided that we would look into this matter, whilst still guarding the manor.

We investigated the manor grounds, searched for hidden passages, questioned the servants, and got nothing but confused looks. Perhaps there was something we were missing?

Sadly, as it turned out, Master Von Canto had overestimated the intelligence of Donovan, for once the party had started, Donovan spread his guards at the wrong places…and was gunned down by a group of hired guns before any of us could react. With some quick thinking, the party captured two goons to interrogate.

And interrogate them they did. Under the threat of execution, they revealed to us three main facts.

1. Donovan is a powerful man, with more then one foil in the business world.
2. The assassins likely motive was Donovan’s monopoly on the valuable Gorewood forest to the east.
3. The attack was planned and executed by a Lizardman, named (Blah) inside of the Gorewood.

We left Ms. Wilde to grieve for the night. By the morning, we talked over breakfast, and learned more news. Her son, heir to a muli-million gp empire, was missing…along with our “friend” Ilyich, immediately causing the suspicion of blame to fall on him. We told Ms. Wilde we would head to Gorewood to avenge Donovan’s killer, but she insisted we go after her son…as that trail was “warmer”, so to speak.

And with that, we climbed into the back of the wagon, and headed south-east along the roads. The trip was altogether uneventful. The only notable feature was the increasingly numbered checkpoints along the road to our destination. Apparently security had been heightened as of recent…who knew? Most of the guards we spoke to along the way had scene a Drow with a human baby, but allowed them to pass, due to a lack of contraband. Heightened security …Ha! Us, however, were searched thoroughly, multiple times…cutting serious time off of our trip.

We arrived at our destination, the town of (Blah) after a few short days. We questioned the guard (Who seamed to be mostly tieflings) and asked them to keep and eye out, but they seamed entirety unhelpful. We searched high and low (Quite literally, in the case of our Barbarian, who attempted to climb a guard tower) but found nothing but the ethereal wisps of a trail.

With that, we retired to the inn, and ate a hearty meal. Here’s hoping tomorrow picks up somewhat.

Sword And Sorcery
The adventures of Master Von Canto.

Life. Hope. I breath it in once more. I am reborn again….not onto the doctor or midwife’s hands, but in a small inn room, on a new land. Master Von Canto seamed overjoyed to see me again, and I to him. It has been many cycles since we last departed in Grenland, and I was happy to be brought back into the material world to serve as his familer. Born again from his essence, I share his memories. And what a tragic trip it has been for Master Von Canto. Betrayal from whiten, tragic love, and a new-found drive for vengeance. The master’s mind is different indeed.

Most notably, the events of the last few days are clearer then ever. Master Von Canto received word of a rich merchant contracting mercenary, adventurer’s as it were, to retrieve lock-boxes. A fairly simple task, even if Master Von Canto felt his skills were a bit rusty. He was joined by what could only be described as a colorful fellowship of a group….A massive Goliath, with an even bigger blade. A Minotaur, horns shining and gleaming in the light. A short, but otherwise unremarkable priest, and a hard-eyed swashbuckler of a lady. At the very least, Master Von Canto felt that his orcish blood would at the vest least, go unoticed, and unremarkable.

They group set out for the Fort at witch the lock-boxes were kept. Many days passes, between getting lost in the mountains, and foraging for food, but the group got there eventually. Inside, they faced moderate resistance; goblins and kobolts who had moved into the ruins (As small creatures tend to do.) All seamed to fall much to easily under both blade and hammer. Too easily.

Venturing deeper, Master Von Canto bore witness to more slaughter, until the true face of the kobolt force reared it’s head. A Barbarian, with an axe as sharp as the midnight sun, charged forth. Both our Cleric and Minotaur stepped forward to protect Master Von Canto, who attempted to delay the oncoming bezerker with an old favorite of his; A magically conjured mixture of mixture of hydrocarbon molecules with petrohomologous structures, that seamed to Grease the barbarian to the ground. But it was too late. The barbarian got up, and, dodging a blow from the massive Minotaur, took the beast’s head clean off!

Things were getting dire, so with a bit of metal arithmetic, Master Von Canto called in the big guns. He conjerfitted the cartomatic energy surrounding the lady next to him to exactly match the Goliath he had scene earlier. With a snap of his finger, the two swapped places, allowing the Goliath to take out the leader of the kobolt/goblin force..

Clearing out the rest of the complex took little effort. The chests were located, and all defenders dealt with, sans two. A pair of cowardly kobolts, who threw down there arms and begged for mercy. The two were taken prisoner, there fate to be determined by the law.

Once back in town, the party counted there coin, and divided it fairly among the living. With a trip to the magic shop, VonCanto refreshed and began building up his scroll collection once more, but more impotently, I was summoned back into this world,

Penned by the magical hand of:
Oropher Mithrandir

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