Echoes of War

Flying Prison

The Bar was welcoming and the ales had a strong spice of Orc sweat. It was as crudely spiced and somehow it all worked together in its own way. The spirits of this plane is nothing like the fey wilds but I enjoy how the inhabitants all make it work. I was mulling over the accents in my Ale when the spunky bard and Daunting Dragon break the merriment with a familiar sullen dwarf. It was Jarrem the youngest and greenest of the dwarven company. They had found him at the Lion’s maw after I was unsuccessful at getting a crowd into better spirits at the Salty dog.

Runa tried religiously to bring about the dwarf’s senses. It turns out that the company of dwarves were slaughtered brutally all in front of Jarrem. The sad twist to the story was their assailant was in guise as Jarrem himself. Poor Dwarf is likely to kill himself, and the dragon’s only quarrel is that we didn’t get that 300 gold that we rightfully deserved. Feeling responsible we lead him to the druid to heal his mind.

We headed back to our inn to get our last drink and rest up for the night. It felt like the somber tones of the night was making our hearts and heads heavy. Only a little too heavy, the room got dark and the echoes of the bar quickly became silenced as our consciousness was torn away.

We were drugged, Pitifully, cowardly drugged. While we were carted off, whispers graced my ears. A name.

“ L’arc.”

Jean the cursed scourge of mutiny bay, I have a chance to reclaim my family necklace. Bleeding thoughts as the wits about me were lost to the drugs again.

Finally we awoke in the hull of a boat, an old galleon with a modified jail cell below deck. We must have made a name for ourselves to have someone go this far to capture us. If it means getting closer to L’arc I’ll ride this boat to his door step.

As we clamored to our feet, I wasted no time to get our things. Fey stepping through the crude bars I equipped my trades tools. I noticed another deck below us with out second thought I reinforced the hull door shut. I rallied the heroes and nimbly undid the rudimentary locks. Scorn was on my mind for I knew L’arc was near. I stealthed up the stairs to glimpse the crew about the upper deck. Peering through the small crack in the door I brace to get a glimpse our surroundings. There were more crewmen than I could take on my own. I turned to my friends again and revealed my past to them.

They agreed a surprise attack was the best course of action. We burst from below deck. Weapon ablaze, for zan literally, we brandished our attacks on the crew men. Suddenly I found us not a midst the sea, but soaring through clouds. We were aloft in the sky like some song bird. Neither swaying nor rocking of the boat was to be felt. We were gracefully soaring over the land. The blaring sounds of Zan’s bull rush had flung a crew man over board. The harsh sounds bringing my mind back to our battle. He gruffly told him to join us or die but his fate was already sealed as the man climbed back up he was cut down with Zan’s heavy steel.

There at the Helm was Jarace, how is he tied to L’arc I thought to myself. Before I could continue my thoughts an eruption bellowed from below us. Fire brazenly consumed the vessel. Smoke rolled up like a sheet over the side.

A drake, or small dragon burst from the hull, Men’s screams of agony filled the air. Zanril attempts to communicate to his brother but was not met with a response that I could distinguish. As we attempted to get to Jarace he was already off on a Ornathopter. The ship now roaring with hot waves of flames was coming down. The ship was falling through the air. Kalea, the only one with her mind about her, used the enchanted rope to make us an escape. Off the bow of the boat she tied one end and let loose the other. She climbed down Runa the garish dwarf decided the rope was too easy and dove for the water. If it were not for the peril, I would have doubled over in laughter. I went for the rope next. I effortless descended the rope then gracefully dove for the river. Once amidst the water I let the current take me to shore. Zan, the brute, came down and if one were watching from shore would have thought he pulled the ship down to the ocean himself.

We found refuge in a camp. Speaking to the guards Runa was able to find that there was an epidemic of cultists purging the lands. Our luck in finding trouble never ends. Screams in the night echoed our camp. Assailants were about to end the lives of a child and his mother. Thanks to our agility we intervened and innocent blood was not shed.

A beautiful warrior in light appeared Emisha, a kalishtar, gave us her thanks. She is a follower of the Path of eternal light. Her mission was to cleanse the land of the Hand of Nearash. She had lost a paladin Jaryn a member of her order and would like us to find him.

Agreeing to help deliver the world from another cult, we headed out in the morning. Unfortunately none of us knew the length of the march would test our endurance so extensively. Runa and I quickly fell behind during the hike from town to town. Sightings, murmurs of a paladin etching his way west kept us going. Eventually we found villages burnt to the grown. No remorse was felt for the slain, pure destruction rained down on them. Those that have perpetrated these crimes will pay. Only ashes remained yet Runa did not pay respects to them as we went through. Has the toil of this world gotten the better of her too? My resilience exhausted I collapsed during the trek. My team had to drag me to the last town. There we rested.

Amidst our stay with the farmer, the Hand appeared, demanding the arms that the farmer had promised. We had no intentions of delivering this promise. Zanril, in all his rage cut down a bugbear in mere second. Using the life drinker dagger I was able to deliver a precise gash, spilling another assailants blood and emptying necrotic poison into him.

Runa, Kalea supported us and ran through two more. Finally Kalea approached the farmer and appealed to his better senses to try and get him to stop giving weapons to the Hand of Nearash. He truly felt he was protecting his village and would not lot us rest as we put him in danger. Zan did not like that and quickly showed his fearsome temper. He intimidated the old man but so much so he didn’t want to consider us as guests. Finally Runa found a girl that was able to lead us to where the Paladin had been seen last.

As we approached an encampment of ruins Jaryn met us there with vigor. Ii was good to see we a task come to an end.

Again it seems the tables turn on us. As Runa was about to cure his wounds, he jumped and stabbed her. The fool was mental. He then left no trace, he disappeared into the bushes. I hate being played a fool I felt a farce being pulled on us.

Again Jaryn comes out of the bushes and we try to greet him. And once more he stabs at Zanril….

This time before he could escape I stealth and stab him, pushing him to the center of the ruins. Yet another Jaryn now comes out and goes after Kalea a fight then peruses with these doppelgangers. We go back and forth as they conceal themselves from our vision. A rigorous battle with no clues to go on exhausts us again. We decide to camp for the night.



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