Thracia

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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Thracia 1

The wizard Limnex has gathered together a group of adventurers to help him, as he lends them mutual assistance on their quest to gain power and pursue their paths. Each soul finds itself increasingly reliant on the others to survive as the plot thickens and the true nature of the land around them comes to be understood.

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Journey to Surenan
Oh crap, they split the party

Everyone leveled up! Level 4!!!

So the party got split. It happens. Three of the brave adventurers: Grey (a shapeshifting wizard), Bunji (cleric of Pelor), and the amnesiac war loving half-Lung Wang dragon cleric made their way to Surenan, the capital of Baal Sok. They were given a few missions by Limnex:

  1. Meet up with the King in 10 days as his honored guests at court for their help in opening the tomb at Darkstone Plateau
  2. Find and gain association with Slutty Kate, head of an adventurer’s guild
  3. “Probe” Slutty Kate for info about the other volumes of The Tome of the Unwritten Word
Additional tasks:
  1. Get that undead eye out of Sungee’s head
  2. Enjoy the city, find other jobs for more riches, XP and glory!

DAY 1 The party ran into a Killoren kill team on their first night out in the woods. Apparently, not everyone in this world likes them as much they want. Also, rangers’ definitely have the ability to track a group of adventures who are in a cart pulled by 2 spitting fell drakes. After a short tussle and the realization that donning armor takes like, 50 rounds, the forest folk were thoroughly trounced.

DAY 2 The half dragon let it be known, “Denizens of the forest, beware!” The deaths of two badgers, one dire and one not, rest on the consciences of our adventurers, but they still manage to sleep well afterward. Badger meat is tasty!

DAY 3 A random perform check was unknowingly made at the entrance to a feast of dwarves partying inside of a magically hidden lodge. Further perform checks prove that dwarves love dwarven epics sung by someone who looks like a dwarf, but actually isn’t. We learned that you can drink 1 drink/hour per point of CON bonus before taking penalties. (Somehow I think that won’t be the last time we use that, so write it down somewhere.) The “dwarf”, Grey, vomited profusely and then passed out. Thokka Kimble, a cleric of Hanseath, invited the party to the festivities. A match between half-dragon and Sungee vs. 2 dwarves what held in the spirit of friendly competition. It was promptly brought to an end by Sungee who auto-killed a dwarven child by rolling triple 20. The adventurers suggested that the dwarves begin using helmets during these competitions. Thokka awarded them a rune stone of “Stone Shape” for their participation in the activity.

DAY 4 Arrival at Surenan! Yay! The party was stuck behind a long procession of carts entering the city. A cart filled with sand collapsed and frightened the felldrakes as they were approaching the gates, the drakes were spooked and they both hocked wads of acid at the city wall. The team was “profiled” and talked to by the captain of the guard. A cleric molested an invisible gnome bookkeeper. Let’s not mention which cleric. Stealthy use of the Amanuensis spell garnered the group a copy of the city map. A posting on the wall offered a reward to those who could apprehend the cause of the recent string of demonic possessions and suicides throughout the city. The felldrakes were left with a nice little boy and taken to the stables.

The team made their way to the nearest temple of Pelor, located in a lovely slum called “The Swamp”. Everyone killed some time waiting by helping out the poor and needy lined up at the door. The goodness of their hearts (or inability to wait their turn…you decide) was expressed through numerous heal checks, the occasional cure light wounds and some proselytizing by a fake priest of Pelor. Anyway, they got to the front of the line and Sungee was seen by the head priestess (see side note), who promised (after some cajoling) to help burn out that cyst/eye/undead-monstrosity for a favor: help out the old lady whose son keeps returning as a ghost.

(Side note: At this point the other two members of the trio were hard at work making themselves known in the ghetto. Mr.Everybody (Small or Medium Size) was buying drinks at a pub, ingratiating himself with the locals. Mr. Lung-Wang went to the rescue of an grizzled old beggar woman by grabbing the young punk, super sizing himself and then throwing the boy down the street. He then went on a LARGE SIZE HALF-DRAGON RAMPAGE to make sure the city watch knew where he was. After he sat on (and killed) one of the police, Grey appeared to help mend the situation by “killing” the monster through illusory execution. It all ended with some kind of ridiculous Hide check when the LARGE half-dragon slowly stomped into an alley and put on a cloak he looted from the Killoren.)

DAY 5/EARLY MORNING DAY 6 After a bit of rest, the trio set out to visit the old lady who lived in a once grand house near the temple. After some plot exposition, the team stayed on until midnight met the ghost of the boy who claimed he couldn’t remembering anything that happened after visiting his father’s grave at Granholm Cemetery. Adventurers, go! They rucked up on the cemetery, dispatched some zombie punks and confronted a Curst. The Curst was crazy, as they often are, and the fight was eventually ended by a good spell resistance roll and a poor save against Command Undead. Not to mention a certain half-dragon beating the tar out of a load of hapless zombos. Treasure was found, as was a body. Ms.Cleric of Pelor and occasional Mr.Cleric of Pelor made a pair of terrible saves against huge centipede poison (on the blade of the Curst) which took a combined 18 DEX damage on them. Hurray for poison!

DAY 6 The party returned and managed to get the eye removed (great roll, DM!) and everyone decided that some rest was in order…and some Restoration spells.

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Grey's Log
"The Psychotic Ramblings of a Deranged Wizard"

The past few days have been incredible. My people eschew writing as a medium for recording history. Our history is recorded in the writings of the Statics. In every age our secret histories interweave with theirs like the threads of a great tapestry. What is known only to us is passed on orally, as stories. So, it is with a grim determination that I set out to chronicle my journeys. Perhaps I am in some way defective, but I feel that I have undertaken something worth writing about, possibly for the first time in the history of my race.

   Over the years I have been given many names by the people of many lands. Currently I possess the designation "Grey". The Wizard Grey, if I'm in a self-aggrandizing mood. My travelling companion appears to be a young girl, but is in reality my familiar. In her current incarnation (for she prefers to be female, even as I most often prefer to be male) she is known as Thoth. In my youth I was most often called "ghost", or simply "#$&@!" by the merchants of the marketplace in… in… I can no longer remember. I was born… in… I was born. Of that I am sure. 

  I am certain that I was born, and I am equally certain that recently I began to dream. It was this dreaming that pulled me to the clearing as a lodestone will draw iron filings when drawn across the workbench of a smithy. I was not alone. Upon arriving it became eminently clear that something larger than myself was at work here. Larger, perhaps, but not grander.

 It all seems so long ago now. My memories of my past are misty. Perhaps they are so for all members of my race, as I have never met another. I know them only through the stories of the bards. I don't know how I know them, when I hear them, but I do. There is something in me that recognizes them… and responds.

As such I have decided to keep this log. Hopefully it can provide me with the memories that so often escape me. How long will I keep such a journal? How long can I stay on this path? How long will I continue to draw breath? These are all questions which have never troubled any child of the Static races. I envy them. Even as I pity them.

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