Ponytails and Rolling fails

The story so far; Post Mingolstein Event
The Way Down, Up and Beyond

Twas the horrors of the mountain, that lead our intrepid heroes into the lair of the rotting great oak, and it’s even more rotted coven. Thrown into a contingency that held the lives of children, the stock of vigilant and easily swayed folk and a tyranny of Hags in the frightening maw, of the Drachenmund, atop the mountain of Mingolstein.

The burden of family is a heavy mantle to maintain. And love can be as cruel to a child in smothering doses, as can a harsh and unfair fist. The party learned as much from the mountain, and those who dwelt within it. For inside the Drachenmund, our heroes fought a gruesome pair of filth ridden trolls, met and freed an unfortunate father (turned-werewolf), defeated a terrifying Dracolich and uprooted the tyranny of Mother Mountain’s hateful coven. The victory was not all perfected, and not all that could have been redeemed, was.

Mingolstein began to rebuild in the wake of the Coven’s absence, families reunited with their young, and Akira took the first steps, towards creating his very own hunter’s guild.
But the group all underwent severe and somewhat traumatic transformations (Some more literal than others) during their time in Mingolstein.

Hist’s faith in Hexor was tested at the mountain slopes, and lost thereafter, to the winds of fate. But like all Clerics learn, faith is not something that is given or claimed, faith is something that takes them. And in the depth of his despair, Hist was visited by the Cold Embrace, Maegryn who relinquished Hexor’s claim to Hist and left him with a semblance of instruction, an instinct of control and so, Hist woke to find that he was now something… else. No more a cleric of War, but of the Grave.

Akira, whose optimism and straightforwardness had been a beacon of hope for all those around him, underwent a visitation of faith as well. As the War Father, Ahn’gor, visited Akira in his dreams, and reforged the holy symbol of Rhogmor Ramshield, so that Akira might carry on his legacy, continue the work he had done, and undo the conspiracy surrounding his demise. Ahn’gor therefore saw him worthy, and chose Akira to become his cleric of War. Akira, now with a divinity to his cause and his footsteps, will carry the weight of an acolytes mind as he learns to hone his newfound abilities.

Aadra, haunted by a myriad of reflections of past trauma, sinister undertones and literal horror, endured alongside his travelling companions to the bitter end, and in some semblance of reward; discovered and rediscovered many useful magical items, that were paramount to the survival of those he fought to save.

And Drevic, who had seen an opportunity to honour his father in his own way, seized it, and became afflicted with lycanthrope. After the dreadful coven had been eliminated, and Wulfram, the most unlucky werewolf and father, was spared.

As overwhelming as this was for the group, our story did not end there. As a familiar face greeted them in MIngolstein; Duncan Crowley, of Cael’harn. And with him, a gift of Platinum and a word of caution, for what was to come. Gilliad, King of Baradin, had asked for an audience with the group and requested their presence at Stahlhiem, the Capitol city of Baradin. The group, seeing little other choice, did so.

After meeting with the King, having a shaky confrontation with Ambassador of the Traith, Dissinter Nihlus and being welcomed as members of the Eisengriffe, the group headed for Moulville by the Craecoast, to continue on Hist’s ongoing pilgrimage to understand the tenants of the Church of Maegryn, it’s sects and it’s history, travelling by way of skyship (To Hist’s reluctance). Only to be greeted once more, on the deck of an airship, by a lumbering, flying beast…

To be continued…

The story so far...

From the crushing depths of the Underdark, the profane sacrilege of snake cults and the dizzying heights of sky ships. Our heroes have braved many perils and slain many foes, with both blade and word of mouth. However, impious and profane creatures, led by an ancient and unknowable foe, still haunt their every steps… the Lith.

Having concluded several contracts at the free city of Cael’harn, the group ironically, find naught but a cage. They are victim to the politics and bureaucracy of this island nation .
They break their chains after their most recent tribulation, avenging the loss of an ally, victim to the dark machinations of one of their own.

Remedying the sickness of betrayal, the group travel south through the sovereign nation of Baradin, having said their farewells to one friend, they greet an old one with open arms, and the fires of camaraderie are kindled once more. Yet trouble besets their resting place at night, as a force of goblins, led by brutes of immense size and strength, advance on their position. Possessing an intense hunger, only to be sated by the fat of the land.

Their forces were met in a skirmish, mountains of clanking metal and endless hordes, proving no match for skill, discipline and keen wit. The creatures, broken, scattered, and burnt, flee from the battlefield. Leaving behind tokens of arcane interest, and ill omen…

Some members of the group however, learn that not all threats are without, as faith is questioned and powers unknown watch from the shadows…

Two paths lie ahead to our weary wanderers, to Mingolstein in the mountains – where innocence is lost, or Varhaven in the fields, where it may be found…


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