DungeonScape

Prakus can write!?!?!?!

The handwriting is very poor, and the grammar is even worse, but the orc barbarian of the party has finally learned common! He has also decided to start a journal.

today me try speak common thank dwarf heal kill doggies weird nature human and one giant bear bear hurt lots masked man make me big to fight bear bear make prakus bleed that make prakus angry THAT MAKE PRAKUS VERY VERY ANGRY so prakus smash bear in face today prakus learn how important being safe is decide to try and be safer while killing might help more not much loot just more shiny coins and stupid sticks prakus want bigger sword swords make prakus happy maybe use shiny coins to buy one prakus very tired and bleeding so prakus go sleep now

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Khai-ir's Tale - Verse 1
The Sun-Sword

Ah, Uviga. It is good to see you, old friend. We have not yet had a chance to speak heart-to-heart. It seems like no sooner had I seen you I was plunged into danger, with no time for pleasantries or reunions.

No, friend. You were right to hurry. We can hardly allow this opportunity to slip through our fingers. I would still be in the tomb, were circumstances different. As it is, I was forced to return because of my injury.

Quite a sight, is it not? I assure you, before my companions worked their healing magic upon me, it was far more gruesome. As it is, the green and purple putrescence which surrounds it turns my stomach. Surely, the abomination which gave me this wound passed to me some horrifying disease, which must needs be cared for before I may venture once more into the crypt. But I am getting ahead of myself. I came here to ask you something.

This blade; Do you recognize it?

Indeed, I thought as much. If it is — as we suspect — the sword of one of Sarenrae’s Sunguard, then you are doubtless correct in believing this is the tomb we seek, for only in that tomb were the knights of Sarenrae ever buried.

Alas, I found it in the bony grasp of one of Urgathoa’s skeletal champions. I fear that all the bodies of the Sunguard have been corrupted in this manner. It frightens me, for I heard the monster speak. It’s voice is dry, like crumbling parchment or the grating of sand. Its words were vile, dripping with hatred for all that lived. Whatever virtue those noble warriors once possessed has been turned against the forces of good.

Yet there is still some virtue and holiness in the sword. I felt it. Once the corpse was slain, I was drawn to this blade, inspired to pick it up for reasons beyond my ken. When the ghoul that gave me this wound struck me, I was frozen by some demonic force, and I swear it was this blade which freed me. It woke something deep within me, which gave me the strength to finish the fight.

Yes. My companions said so as well… but I do not believe something needs be magical for it to be sanctified. It is the idea — not the item — which is sacred and powerful. The dream in which I saw Qadim showed me many spears, not just the one I bear now. In that dream I saw that the physical shell of Qadim may break or be cast away or even sold in times of need, but the holy vision of Qadim which Sarenrae instilled within in me can never be shattered. So it is with this sword. I can feel it in my heart. You may scoff if you must, Uviga, but I do sense something special and holy about this sword. It rests in my hands as if it were Qadim’s brother. These two weapons were meant to be together, my skeptical friend, and I will always bear the spirits of both these weapons in my core.

You still do not believe me? Then observe, for I will show you that my faith in Sarenrae has once again been rewarded. See how this wound upon my hand festers? A shambling assemblage of rotting flesh gave it to me. When I returned from my expedition, I wished to seek a healer to tend to it, but a little voice in my soul stopped me. If I am truly a chosen conduit for Sarenrae’s love, then my faith in Her shall knit this fragile flesh together.

… By the sun and sand… Did you see that Uviga? Do you not now believe? I asked for Sarenrae’s mercy, and her song swelled up within me. Did you see that Uviga? I asked for her light to be with me, and it came and rested on my hand! You cannot doubt any longer; This sword is a holy thing, given to me by the goddess herself.

Yes, such a fine weapon does deserve a name, and name it I shall. From henceforth, it will be called Khalid, or eternal. For no matter if it and it’s sister-spear are lost or destroyed, their spirits shall be forever in my heart.

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Valene's Adventure Log - Delve 4 - The Cryptening

My motivation was through the roof this morning. I met up rather quickly with Prakus and was surprised to see Firthinel and Tiberius also waiting to delve. Even though we could’ve likely gone into the DungeonScape with the few of us, I felt it necessary to increase our numbers. I’ve considered that strength in numbers would’ve been rather advantageous in our past delves, so I looked around the tavern for other adventurers. A certain three caught my eye, and two of them agreed to join. The third, however, apparently had his own agenda.

He was searching for a certain tomb, to which he was surprised to hear about it being in the DungeonScape instead of where the “legends” claimed it to be. He declined our offer and instead planned going to this tomb himself…. But I could not in good spirits leave a man and his companion to wander the dangerous area alone. I was ready to enter again the entrance of Ice, but instead decided to accompany Khai-ir into the tomb and assist him on his quest. It pains me a little to let the assassin live for any longer than she has already, but something tells me that she will not be leaving the dungeons anytime soon.

Almost immediately as we entered the dungeon we encountered a plethora of undead creatures. Nevertheless, I was not deterred. I managed to get past the number of allies, vault over an enemy, trip two of the skeletons (one of which looked rather menacing) and fell one that was knocked prone. Indeed… I was not about to be the useless monk I was before. Before even a minute was up, every creature had crumpled to the ground.

After the fight, I was able to learn more of Khai-ir’s story. The world is so big—there are so many people who have had so much hardship and trouble in their lives. Khai-ir’s mentors were all taken by a plague, and he is now wishing to rid the world of all Urgathoa’s undead creations. Compared to that, I have lived such a simple life: taken in by a kind master after being found alone on the streets and trained to be a monk of Iori nearly my entire life… considering I hardly remember my years before the temple, Khai-ir must be… well, I cannot even fathom.

None of us were expecting what was going to come next. Even though the room had nothing, almost immediately after entering the room, we were ambushed on three sides by a number of undead—two ghouls at the rear, then a horde of zombies and three skeletons on either side. The outlook was dim… I even lost consciousness more than once. Thankfully, we had quite the luck after Khai-ir regained his movement and Septimus decided to bring out more of his channels. After it was all said and done, we decided to head back to Sanctuary and figure out what to do with the loot and equipment and such. Fortunately, everything ended up being okay, and even the Ghoul Fever was sufficiently taken care of.

This delve into the crypt… it was quite draining and I will admit I was quite concerned for my life. I don’t know if I’ll offer to go with Khai-ir once more unless we apprehend the elven assassin, as much as I have grown to respect the man. I suppose I’ll just have to make a decision in the future.

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Tiberius's 1st Log

I am not one to talk much unless I wish to sway minds and inspire actions, but I suppose I should begin a log… This is my second journey in this land, and it put me against many undead – the one thing I fear most in my life. I tend to avoid brute violence, but when several undead have boxed me in against a wall, all I can do is draw my dagger and slash blindly – praying the blood my steel tastes is not that of another party member. Memories come flooding, and my scars feel refreshed in such a scenario…. and this scenario was beyond grim, members of my party abandoned us, and two contracted disease, and multiple cases of party members being knocked unconscious painted a grim tapestry, but we stayed strong and eventually our team came round and as soon as the undead began to crumble and return to be judged properly in the boneyard, I felt my mind returning to a more natural state and I was at the very least able to bring Valene back to her feet; which are coincidentally one of her greatest weapons and tools, it was undeniably impressive watching her run across the walls over the party and send several monsters flat on their back with quick trips. I am growing more confident with these people, and my the darker of my minds may remain quelled…

At least I can pray that it will.

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Scribbles

There are scribbles written on a page. Could Prakus be trying to learn Common? That could prove…interesting.

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Valene's Adventure Log - Delve 3

I woke up this morning with a headache. I still haven’t completely recovered from the last delve. It must be because of it that I have been less…stable today. Pushing that aside, though, I came to this town for a reason, and I would never reach my goals if I didn’t push myself a little, headache or not.

I met again with Altearth, whom I have come to respect as a dependable comrade. I have been able to converse somewhat freely with him—something I (shouldn’t) take a little pride in due to his silent nature. Of course, we have been consistently paired for every delve, despite the changing roster of adventures accompanying us. Thinking on it now, I’m not even sure we mentioned to the two oracles our stimuli for entering the DungeonScape. On the subject of the oracles, CorVal joined us again for this delve.

As we prepared to leave, we were approached by a redheaded woman and her orc companion. She had a condescending air about her, and I can safely say that I hated her the moment I saw her. She asked us to find someone named “Bloodwort.” The name seemed familiar, but not enough to arouse a response out of me. After her request, however, I made known my opinion. It’s not that I disliked the idea of subduing an evil man—indeed, I was already searching for another criminal—I simply disliked the idea of assisting a woman who screamed pure evil from every ounce of her being. I said as much, though I was rather brief with my words. I should’ve said more.

I suppose I should thank her, though. Even though it’s not comely for a disciple of Iori to harbor such extreme emotions, I could not help but feel the tinge of range for that woman help me overcome the treacherous path to the Ice entrance, even when my friend and comrade (and the new addition to our posse) were not so fortunate. Being fired up did a number for my vocal chords, too—I was surprisingly talkative as we explored the cave. That, or perhaps I felt I needed to do twice the amount of talking to make up for the Orc who could not speak common. Regarding Prakus, I found it interesting that I don’t possess any ill will towards him despite the malevolence I feel for his companion.

My encounter with the waterfall was a harsh reminder of my earlier insecurities. It was only after I had vaulted the mound of obstructing ice and nearly falling over 70ft to what could’ve been my death that I once again realized I was being much too rash; my childish actions could’ve resulted in something irreversible for myself and my party. Yet, I knew there would be risk in trying that particular stunt… enough, I think, that when CorVal wished me to be careful, I couldn’t help but smile from the depths of my sincerity. So, even though I realized the possible consequences of my actions, the fact that I was alright—that nothing happened or went wrong—bolstered my confidence and put a splint on my failing ego.

At least, that was the case until we ran into it. The creature was even more menacing than what Dica described—indeed, her description fit, yet it did not seem to encompass the amount of fear the creature—the Yeti—drove into my heart. Even though I had managed to conceal my presence and avoid being targeting, I was still momentarily petrified as I considered my very, very limited options: either I could respect my sense of self-preservation and attempt to escape unscated, else I could stand and fight with my allies. Truthfully, even after I had overcome the initial panic and made up my mind to assist my comrades, I still couldn’t help but think of the condition I was already in and what would happen if I sported an attack from that massive beast. With every passing second I would reconsider running away, up until the point I saw CorVal. At that moment I forced myself to swallow my weakness and decided I would help in any way I could. Sadly, by the time I would’ve come to combat the Yeti, he had already fallen as a result from many fortunate circumstances; the Yeti was missing an arm and had already sustained some massive damage. Altearth and Prakus held their own astoundingly, making me feel even more useless.

Again shaking off my current mindset, even if I was unable to help in the fight, I might at least help restore CorVal to a point where he might be able to heal himself. Leaning down to him, however, revealed an interesting aspect of the oracle I previously hadn’t noticed. CorVal was bleeding black. I thought it strange at first until I considered that it could’ve just been from the Yeti, since it had amounts of black blood on it (likely from orcs). My conclusion, however, seemed to be proven wrong by Prakus, who smeared his own to show the difference between orc blood and the blood on CorVal’s clothing. A myriad of questions bombarded my thoughts: Who exactly is CorVal? What is he? Why black? He looks human, so why does he bleed this way? What does this mean? Can he be trusted? All these thoughts and more clouded my judgement momentarily as I tried to bring him back to consciousness. Yes, even though I pondered on his intentions, I couldn’t simply leave a reliable human… or rather, sentient being, to die. I made no efforts to ask CorVal what this meant, nor did I point it out to Altearth who didn’t seem to notice, but Prakus didn’t seem to care so much about the oracle as the fact that he could use magic and possibly identify his new trinket.

I’m still unsure what to do about this new knowledge, but I know for sure that I’ll be keeping a much closer eye on the “man” than I had previously done. He hasn’t (of yet) tried anything that should signify a betrayal, but if he attempts anything—anything at all—I will not hesitate to bring him down. With this newfound resolve, I have also found myself stronger than before; it’s about time I grew up.

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Valene's Adventure Log - Delve 2

I met up with Altearth and Vraxim again this morning for a second delve into the DungeonScape. The other two must’ve had other plans since we were unable to meet up. Instead, however, we made the acquaintance of two oracles looking to delve as well. They were quite kind to join us after we expressed our need for healers. One in particular, though, CorVal, is his name… there was just something in his smile and demeanor that seemed to betray his outward intentions. Yet, I have no evidence to prove that he is anything but sincere, so I will try not to dwell on the uneasy feeling I get whenever he speaks. Tiberius, on the other hand, seems to be honest enough.

This time we decided to enter the Waterfall entrance. Feeling much better than the previous day, and understanding the situation better than before, our encounter with the Bloodskulls went initially much better than that with the Frostbites. Sadly, even though I managed to take care of the shamans that posed a minor threat, Vraxim’s eidolon was not so lucky with the scouts pelting javelins at the rest of the group. I managed to climb the ledge without too much hassle, and fortunately, I was able to take out one of the orcs… though no such luck when the second standing one attacked.

I’m still not entirely sure what exactly happened, only that he managed to exploit an opening… and then everything went black. Fortunately it seems that I wasn’t out for too long this time around, though I am still just as embarrassed as before—if not more so because of this having been my second blunder. Tiberius cured my wounds with magic and I was able to stand on my own two feet again, although the pain was nearly unbearable. Partially due that that, and partially due to my disappointment, I kept to myself during the following events.

The scene I awoke to after descending the cliff ended up being, hands down, the strangest thing I have ever seen. Goblins. Countless goblins. The first thing that struck me, of course, was their size, and since there were so many of them, it almost seemed… cute, in a way. I knew that just by coming to Sanctuary I’d see many things I’d never seen before (even halflings were quite foreign to me, with all honesty) but there are just some things that stories, books, and scrolls cannot describe or portray; a horde of goblins was one of them. Of course, the situation was even stranger! CorVal and Vraxim were trying to impress… no, free… no, recruit the little humanoids?

The attempts at peace were all quite futile, it proved, since a mob broke out at Tiberius’s suggestion. Or was it the suggestion of another goblin to behead Vraxim? Whatever the case, everything ended once CorVal decapitated the enlarged goblin leader. …And then CorVal convinced them to follow him out the cave. I was so bewildered that I couldn’t even put in my two-cents worth of insight. …Not that I had any.

Vraxim was strangely silent on the way back to town. In retrospect, he was likely plotting for what was about to happen at the gates. Of course the guards weren’t about to let what could be a platoon of goblins into the city! I was skeptical, too! But Vraxim… he wished to get revenge on CorVal. Of course, without Lagaicrus, he was left with only one option: convince the guards that the goblins planned to overrun the town—and he was gone. What happened afterwards was not an all-out war between the guards and goblins, thank Iori, largely due to Tiberius’s efforts to convince the guards of the goblins’ usefulness. Still… the amount of animosity pent up in that small halfling worries me; the fact that he ran so far so fast is also disconcerting. I feel we won’t be seeing him again anytime soon.

The goblins ended up inhabiting the land to the northeast. I do not know how they’ve started their first night as freed creatures, but I doubt they’re as concerned about their future as I am. So much happened today that I’m not even sure about my own state.

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The Rogue Adventurer

Vraxim, Day 2

The trip to Sanctuary and it’s “amazing” caves was a total failure. This beat the disaster of day 1. First, we picked up 2 new oracles. Good, right? WRONG. One of them is hiding something. I’m still not sure yet. After that we set off. But not for the windy entrance that we had been making progress through, nooooo we had to do the waterfall entrance. Want to know what we found? MORE STINKIN ORCS! I told the party that was all we would find, but we just had to go a different way. And, during the battle, something very odd happened. The oracle I didn’t trust, he, he, I don’t know exactly. He fed off the blood of the fallen to mitigate his own wounds it seems. After the battle I found him talking to goblins. They had been slaves. I offered them freedom. BUT THEY TURNED ME DOWN! Stupid creatures…decided to kill us for giving them liberation. Starting with me! And the evil oracle I mentioned? He cheered them on. The leader of the goblins almost killed me, but for some reason he stepped in at the last second. Killed their leader and claimed to be the new one or something. Led them back to the town to work or something. But do you know what I did? The great Vraxim lied to the guards, ruining the goblin’s chance at a civil life! I hate them. I hate them all. I see them trying to build their own civilization just out of town, but it won’t work. I will have my revenge! Especially on that stupid oracle, curse him.

End of Entry

In a rage the halfling forgets not only his book with his experiences, but his gold pouch as well. A new adventurer finds them under a tree, seemingly abandoned, and claims them.

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Adventure of 8/5/13
CorVals look on things :)

The town of sanctuary… i heard rumors of the great town adventurers call home before risking there lifes for the dungeonscape. I started by heading to the tavern to look for the unfortunate, i pay the bard to strike up a cord. the a group burst through the doors talking about there last visit to the dungeon. Half there party fell and the other half was greedy enough to go again :)
i walk up calmly and point out that if they had a healer they would die less often, and they took me with open arms
this just mean i have to play nice for awhile, i like playing nice
they argue with themselves and i toss out the option of the waterfall entrance… they went for it
i enter with confidence and explore the entry way, the paladin stays by my side… apparently im not trustworthy ( just wait )
when the cave branches we split up, the other half of the party finds orcs, javelin throwers and shamans HA a magic orc now thats funny
we slay the shamans with ease but the javelin throwers are up a ledge… i leave that to the much capable party
I hear sounds from around the corner, I walk around the corner into a resting area for 14 goblins
my party’s fight ends and a halfling comes to find me; why couldnt it be a taller character :(
he ruins my chat and causes the goblins that liked being slaves to get super mad, the smaller not armored goblins wanted to be free and the armored ones wanted to kill the halfing
he let them surround him (stupid) the leader goes to slice his face off
i step through the ankle high goblins (now brawling) i slice the leaders head off and claim controll of the goblins to bring back to town
needless to say the guards didnt see my plan like my brilliance did… i lost interest here
and the goblins left to the valley to the north to settle with a counsel and everything worked out great :( except i dont get help in my shop…

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Valene's Adventure Log - Delve 1

It’s been only a day since I arrived in Sanctuary. The DungeonScape has appealed to me for some time now, but if it weren’t for my teacher, I probably would’ve never left the temple. I am grateful for the opportunity to grow just as much as I’m grateful to prove myself to the other students. It’s not befitting of a disciple of Iori to think such thoughts, but I’m ready to show those louts that just because I am a woman, I am not incapable. Indeed, I must admit that the lack of misogyny (and racism) in Sanctuary is like a breath of fresh air—people like the master who treat all equally are only one-in-a-million back home, but it’s the exact opposite here!

I woke up this morning ready to depart, but as I was mentally preparing for my first delve into the DungeonScape, I was approached by a barmaid who pointed me towards the elven woman who had just entered the tavern, tattered and disheveled. I expected she requested assistance in the caves, but I asked the barmaid what she wanted anyways. Indeed, those were her intentions.

She informed us of the criminal Ercareana and how she escaped her confinement form the Elven capital…she then informed us about her companions and the misfortune they met upon entering the cave. If I didn’t have reason enough to enter the caves, then I certainly did then. Dica, our “client,” if you will, has been through so much, even for being an adventuring official for her superiors. She’s offered to give us a hefty sum of gold should we bring back the hand of the dreaded assassin, but I will most likely decline once it’s offered…. Money is an incentive for mercenaries, but a sorry tale is all that is needed for me to bring a criminal to justice.

I was able to get a fair grasp of the companions I was travelling with on our way to the caves Dica mentioned. The little halfling summoner is a bit of a handful, but provides good entertainment at the least. Firthinel has a good head about his shoulders and an intelligent mind. His magic was sure to come in handy. Faraway, as he is called, is an interesting one—he seems to understand the situation, and his conversation between Vraxim—the summoner—is always intriguing. It may just be a preconception, but he seems to be rather honest for being a thief. Altearth is sturdy and silent, though he seems to emanate an aura that makes him trustworthy.

We decided to enter the Wind entrance of the three that were mentioned to us by Dica, but it occurred to me that none of us must’ve realized how cold it was in that cave. The season is already starting to change, but the cold was made all the more noticeable in the cave with a breeze. Of course, nearly the moment we entered, we realized the entrance was being guarded by a number of orcs. Faraway and I went to check it out, but considering the fact that we couldn’t simply waltz right through the camp of “Frostbite” Warriors and Scouts (we later came to find out their name), we ended up charging in anyway. Our assault seemed to be going well, thanks greatly to Altearth who can withstand and dodge many an attack. Of course, I was not so fortunate…. while we were but a minute into combat, I was knocked unconscious and left out of commision for the remainder of the fight. I’m still hazy on the details, but from what they told me, Altearth managed to take a potion from one of the orcs and stabilize me—much longer, it seems, and I would’ve been done for. Back in reality (with a throbbing headache), I learned that Vraxim’s pet did in the last of the orcs, or something along those lines. That is what I figured to be the case, since Altearth seemed so steamed up. I fear that relations between those two will be… less than optimal from this point onward, though it is only a prediction.

I realize now that training in a dojo for nearly my entire life seems to have left me somewhat… careless, it seems. My blunder in today’s fight has made me understand that the real world is not sheltered, nor is it predictable. I was too ready to fight—too ready to prove myself to the world. I should’ve been more wary and understood that tactics that might work in the temple do not work on seasoned warriors. …Yet, this disgrace I have brought upon myself has also sparked a new fire in me! I am ready once again to become one step closer to perfection! Rest assured, I will not be so expendable next time!

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