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November 1, 2002

Fafnir's Bio

Fafnir's Journal ~PC Bios~

Character images copyright 1999-2002 Claudio Pozas. Used with permission.
After an unfortunate incident stemming from one of his early attempts at alchemy, Fafnir was “asked” to leave his childhood home. (No need to go into detail — suffice it to say it involved a member of the nobility, a goat, and what was meant to be a Love Potion....)

He travelled for a while as a tinker, before settling in Smallville in Bissel. Since arriving in town (a few years ago), he has managed to build a small house, and has supported himself by using his alchemy knowledge to mix up some concoctions for the locals (special brews, salves, etc.), as well as some pretty neat inventions.

There was a little rough spot in public relations the time he made the Chicken Powered Butter Churn — it didn’t work quite right. (And Farmer McGuire’s daughter will never be quite the same— but that’s a whole ‘nother story.) Since then, Fafnir has kept most of his inventions to himself.

Fafnir has also done some light blacksmithing, carpentry and glassmaking on the side. For some reason, the blacksmithing, carpentry, and glassmaking are much more popular with the locals than the alchemy and inventions!?!

On Festival days, Fafnir will often entertain the townsfolk with amazing displays of colorful lights and fanciful creatures. Sometimes when he is in town, children have been known to follow him around, requesting that he perform some ‘magic.’

Recently Fafnir acquired a Weasel as a familiar. The familiar has been named “Fingers,” as he always seems to be getting his little paws (or nose!), into something.

Although happy in Smallville, as of late, Fafnir has been feeling the urge to see some more of the world. For one thing, he would like to learn some more about both alchemy and the art of illusion, and Smallville hasn’t offered a lot of challenges. He also has dreams of being a great gnome Inventor, but doesn’t have the monetary assets needed to build some of the more complex machines.

But most of all, he just has a hankerin’ for some Adventure!

Character sheet: Fafnir Flamebrewer [Gnome Illusionist]
Companion sheet: Fingers [Weasel Familiar]

Posted by Dave at 21:00 | Fafnir’s Journal | ~PC Bios~

November 2, 2002

Drusilia's Bio

Drusilia's Journal ~PC Bios~

Character images copyright 1999-2002 Claudio Pozas. Used with permission.

Drusilia Silverwood is an average elf. Well, average height, anyway, with the typical golden blond hair and violet eyes of her race. Gray elves of Greyhawk are usually not found living in common towns, but an incident shortly after her 122nd birthday sent her life in a quite different direction.

During Drusilia’s childhood, she often overheard her elders speaking of the other races that inhabited the Flaness, and how most could not be trusted. But, she desperately wanted to see and meet dwarves (especially dwarves!), gnome, halflings, and even humans. She had met high elves and was intrigued by the ease with which they apparently interacted with these other races. So, when she finally turned 122 (just the right age to set off on her own), she left her home in the forests of Bramblewood to make her own destiny.

She was almost disappointed with the ease with which she slipped past the few petty bandits hiding in Bramblewood Forest, eventually arriving at the southern tree line. Rather than fearing the view of the open sky though, Drusilia was thrilled to feel the full force of the sun shining on her for the first time ever, unshielded by canopy of intertwined boughs of her ancient forest home. So enraptured she was, that she continued to walk south throughout the day and well after dusk, finally coming to the fringes of “civilization” in the March of Bissel, but not yet ready to step into any of the villages she passed.

She walked until the stars and both moons were visible, and though she was aware of the human settlements she passed, she was intrigued by a shuffling sound just off the road, in a fenced off area dotted with small statuary and stones with inscriptions on them. Curious, she stepped over the low fence to see what the purpose of the small yard was. Just as she bent down to inspect what looked to be a newly carved stone marker, two cold hands thrust through the dirt at her feet to grab her ankles, attempting either to pull her into the earth, or to use her as purchase to climb out. Horrified, she left out a terrified cry, and then again as another set of hands lifted her from behind. Happily for Drusilia, the second pair of hands was stronger than the first, and belonged to a human Paladin of Pelor, whose task it seemed, was to make sure the dead buried in this plot stayed put. Her first contact with humanity had a huge impact on her. After spending the rest of the night in Nightwatch’s Temple to Pelor, the clerics there gave her a wooden sun amulet to protect her on her journey and a small prayer book, for she was not yet ready to settle down.

Drusilia eventually arrived in Smallville, and finding that there were a few dwarves, halflings and gnomes, as well as other elves, already living as friends and neighbors in the mostly-human village, elected to find a home there herself. She has spent twelve years there, praying daily to Pelor for the same strength to help the villagers there as she found in the Nightwatch. She often is called to help heal villagers who are injured, as well as the occasional adventurers that pass through on the way back from some wondrous, yet hazardous undertaking. Soon, she plans to attempt some adventuring of her own, perhaps with some of the other non-humans living in her own village.

Character sheet: Drusilia Silverwood [Elven Cleric of Pelor]

Posted by Kristin at 20:46 | Drusilia’s Journal | ~PC Bios~

November 4, 2002

Trap's Bio

Trap's Journal XPCs

Trap is often found working in the local tavern. He also takes odd jobs repairing and to a small degree (very small), building some traps for the purpose of protecting things. He only does a job if he is recommended by a previous employer. Trap tells everyone that no trap is a guarantee, but only an attempt at preventing someone from taking things. He never asks what is being protected, is very professional, but again is getting bored with small town life, and is looking for ideas, types, and styles for new traps.

Cause of death: smooshed by a hill giant after removing his armor and leaping out from behind a tree.

Posted by Fred at 21:18 | Trap’s Journal | XPCs

November 9, 2002

Ghelt's Bio

Ghelt's Journal ~PC Bios~

Character images copyright 1999-2002 Claudio Pozas. Used with permission.
Dear Cousin Grun:

Thanks for your letter last month; it’s always good to hear about events happening in the homelands. Glad to hear the clan broke through to a new vein of iron ore, and congratulations on your own discovery of a new (so what if it’s small?) diamond mine!

From your description of the event, it sounds like you put our battle training to good use when goblins tried to overrun Midrock. I wish I’d been there to help protect the village, too! (Even if they were “just goblins.”) I do enjoy living and working with Father, but to think our family’s home was threatened makes me angry even now. Father walked about pulling his beard, he was so upset —­ and then burst out laughing that the goblins would even try. Remember the orc hunt, to prove we’d learned to use our waraxes properly?

It has been a long while since we’ve visited Midrock. The shop has been busy, but mostly with travellers needing repairs, not often new armor or weapons. On the other hand, I’m sure Father will want to make a trip to see the quality of the new ore! Travelling with him is always interesting; I don’t think any of the adventurers coming through this village have better stories to tell. He’s slowly getting used to the idea that I want to do some adventuring, myself —­ as if hearing his history would satisfy my own desire to do battle with the evil creatures of this world. I think he was hoping I’d follow the call to serve Moradin alone, and work with weapons and armor without wanting to use them myself, but even he has to admit that a warrior-priest is much more respected, than a priest alone. Aren’t fathers funny? Ours teach us all the ways of the dwarven warrior creed­ — and then worry when we follow it!

As for myself, I don’t think I’d make a good priestess unless I do some travelling, some battle, gain a stronger understanding of who I am and what I stand for. Hope that makes sense. And I still think I have an easier task before me than you —­ but only you would be surprised at receiving no less than three marriage proposals in a month! You’re young, beautiful, talented, and your family line goes back to the founding of the clan. Just make sure you’re happy, along with Uncle — after all, he doesn’t have to spend the rest of his life with the lucky dwarf! (P.S. ­— Mother sends her love, and reminds you that you don’t have to pick any of the suitors if you’re not ready!).

Brother has helping a lot more at the forge, lately­ he shows a real talent for the work. So, I don’t feel like I’m leaving Father in the lurch, to look about me, do some travelling, perhaps even an adventure or two! I may not be as regular a correspondent; I hope you understand.

I’m leaving this afternoon to check out the old “haunted” house outside of town, for that matter. A very mixed group of us decided to see what’s really out there since the former inhabitants disappeared some time ago.

Personally, I doubt there’s much to be found but swamp gas and creaky floorboards, but I’d feel terrible if they got into trouble and I could have helped. There’s an elf healer who’s done me a good turn now and then, and a gnome “inventor” —­ you can just see the cloud of disaster following him!
Both are enthusiastic about going adventuring — perhaps too enthusiastic!
Also, a halfling with some skills that I wouldn’t call entirely honest, but he does mean well (his nickname is Trap —­ at least he’s more inclined to make them, or only disarm them when asked, but still...!).

All right, I’ll end this note. Send my love to everyone, and may Moradin guide your path.

Ghelt Futhark

Character sheet: Ghelt Futhark [Dwarven Fighter]

Posted by Kate at 21:18 | Ghelt’s Journal | ~PC Bios~

November 10, 2002

The Haunted Manor

Adventures, DM's Notes & Maps

The Everston family was always considered odd by the citizens of Smallville. The wealthiest family of the village, they kept to themselves, rarely if ever coming into town. No one ever claimed to have seen the family, not even the delivery boys who would bring supplies to the manor house once a month from the village. With the manor house several miles out of town and back away from the main road, no one really took notice when the family disappeared.

For a hundred years, the estate has stood empty with rumors that the house is haunted. Travellers have reported seeing ghostly lights floating through the ruins and the sound of a woman crying. The people of Smallville have always given the Everston Estate wide berth, but now you find yourself standing before the estate with darkening clouds gathering overhead and lightning arching across the sky.

Posted by Hugh at 15:19 | Adventures, DM’s Notes & Maps

November 19, 2002

Fafnir's Journal Entry 1

Fafnir's Journal

So, There we were. Having set out from town to “explore” (explore being an adventurer’s term, meaning ‘loot’) the old Everston Manor, we arrived mid-day, just as the clouds were gathering, and it was looking like it was going to rain.

Anxious to get indoors, we began looking for an entrance. Ever the subtle ones, we decided to enter by knocking down the front door.... Good thing no one was home! The place was a mess. Once fine tapestries, and beautiful furniture all ruined by years of exposure. With Ghelt and Trap anxiously leading the way, we moved on...

...into the kitchen. Nothing here either. Wait! What’s that? Another doorway, leading to a tower. Now, this was getting interesting.

Things continued on without incident, until we arrived on the 2nd or 3rd floor, where the otherwise empty room was filled with cobwebs. Ignoring them at first, we suddenly started paying more attention when 2 large spiders decided that a gnome would make a good lunch! (Being the only gnome in the party, this was particularly bad for me.)

After one of the spiders took a nasty bite out of my hand, I decided it was time to put a stop to this. While Ghelt, Drusilia, and Trap were readying their weapons, I used some wizardry to put the spiders into a slumber... one from which they would never wake! (Thanks to my stalwart companions.)

Deciding there was nothing on the upper floors, we decided to head for the basement... this is where things got a little hairy. After fighting our way through a gang of goblins, we discovered what looked to be an alchemist’s or wizard’s lab! Unfortunately, everything was old and ruined.

Trap, ever curious, busied himself opening a door that just happened to be ‘stuck.’ Upon opening the door, we found two of the most disgusting creatures I have ever laid eyes upon! (So disgusting, in fact, that for a while I tried to convince myself they were an illusion.... they weren’t.) They were two vaguely human forms, but seemed to be made of a rare material which Drusilia referred to as ‘Sculpey.’

We fought and fought, but nothing we did seemed to be able to stop them. Finally, deciding that fleeing would maybe not be such a bad idea, we made a run for it. (During this time, Trap made an attempt to burn down the manor house.... I’m going to have to keep an eye on him!)

At this time, having cast as many spells as I could remember for one day, I suggested we find a lockable room and rest. Ghelt and Trap were dead-set against this idea... they wanted instead to head back to town! We discussed this briefly, and next thing I know, they are headed back towards the lab, to find out why the disgusting creatures didn’t follow us! Yipes!

Luckily for us, it appears that the two creatures are unable to leave the lab that they are imprisoned in, which prevented them from chasing us. Whew!

Continuing on, Trap found more locks to play with (and even an actual trap!). These particular locks were on a row of cells, that didn’t seem to contain anything other than a 3-armed skeleton (don’t ask, I don’t know why it had 3 arms).

Luckily someone had their eyes open, and one of my companions realized that the last cell had a hidden trap door in it. While we are all hoping the passage leads to treasure, and further adventure, I was finally able to get everyone to stop for the night.

Tucked in for the night, and having posted a sentry to keep an eye out for more goblins, spiders, or whatevers, we are now awaiting the morning to continue our quest....

Fafnir Flamebrewer
-=-
Somewhere in the wilds near Smallville,
The Land of Greyhawk
Freeday, Planting 7, 592 CY

Posted by Dave at 18:56 | Fafnir’s Journal

November 20, 2002

Evening at the Everston Estate

Drusilia's Journal

Freeday, Planting 7, 592 CY

Where to begin? I think Trap slipped something in my drink over at the Rat’s Egg Tavern last night, as I am sure I wouldn’t normally agree to such a daring quest. After a long week of patching up “adventurers” on their way back through Smallville from Parts Unknown, I needed a bit of cheer and revelry with the townsfolk that frequent the Rat’s Egg. It was a wee bit crowded, but I saw some friendly faces and plunked myself down with Ghelt, the blacksmith’s daughter and Fafnir (of Chicken Powered Butter Churn fame). Perhaps it was something Fafnir put in my drink, now that I think about it. But I digress. There was some talk about the old Everston Estate on the outskirts of town, as is often the case with townsfolk trying to engage the adventurers passing through with the local lore, only this time, a group of these adventurers had been to the place. Upon seeing ghostly lights and hearing the sounds of a woman crying, they decided adventuring was not for them and returned to Smallville’s only tavern to apparently test their mettle at drinking.

Fafnir said something about this being a “perfect opportunity” for an adventure of our own, and Ghelt mentioned she’d be willing to provide some muscle should the need arise. I suddenly, and very badly, wanted to make sure that the ghostly lights were not, in fact, ghosts. Even Trap, who had stopped tending bar at some point and was sitting at our table, was already scheming with Fafnir about how to best tackle the old mansion.

And tackle it we did. By the time we arrived at the estate, it was well past noon, and storm clouds had formed overhead. The large front door stuck a bit, so we ended up removing it by applying way too much force to it. The door, apparently, was in no better shape than the first big room we came to. The inside of the mansion was festooned with webs, rotting furniture, rotting tapestries on the walls, dangerously crumbling balconies around the great room, and rotting floorboards and ceilings throughout. The kitchen was in a similar state, and while nothing looked actually “looted” before we arrived, there wasn’t anything usable left either.

We found some spiraling stairs to the next floor, where there were more spider webs. It appears that our first major decision would be whether or not to walk through the room or avoid it in favor of another. During the ensuing, but brief, verbal debate that followed, two extremely large spiders decided that yes, at least some of the humanoids should enter the room. One bit Fafnir while we were pulling weapons to defend ourselves, but the quick-thinking gnome cast a spell, causing the spiders to fall asleep before either could make another attack. We quickly dispatched the spiders and I healed Fafnir’s wound. We looked around the upstairs of the mansion for a bit before deciding, after having a look at the really rotten roof, that we’d be safer trying to look below the mansion.

We followed some very small footprints until we came to a door leading down below the mansion. We encountered some goblins, equipped with javelins, who attempted to stab Ghelt and Trap. There were four, which were a bit tougher to dispatch than the spiders. One got away, but after a headlong chase down some corridors, we dispatched that one too. We managed to acquire 16 silver pieces for our efforts. We then found ourselves in a room containing the base of a damaged statue (there was not enough debris to identify the statue, though it had humanoid feet), and a table that looked like it was set up for lab experiments. It was obviously long out of use. Trap, living up to his name, managed to find a door leading to a room with a summoning circle on the floor, and two horrible, melted-looking creatures that immediately attacked us. Ghelt was able to do minor damage to one with her axe, but my arrows bounced right off the creature closest to me. I suggested we vacate the area, and was happy to discover that the creatures either wouldn’t or couldn’t leave the room that we found them in.

Fafnir was suggesting that we stop for the day, as he had no spells left after those skirmishes. I had healed everyone myself and would have been happy to rest as well. However, Ghelt and Trap saw some interesting looking doors, five all in a row, and simply could not rest until we had seen their contents. Flinging open the first four doors provided us with some very small cells, one of which contained a three-armed skeleton. While I don’t know what it was, I could tell at least that it was dead, and not undead. Trap, once again living up to his name, yanked the fifth and final door open, and emerging from the final cell doorway in a cloud of gas with a stupefied look on his face, suggesting that he too was ready to call it a day. After the gas cleared, I noticed a trap door carefully set among the stones of the floor. But, we are tired and out of spells, so that will have to await investigation until tomorrow.

Posted by Kristin at 14:21 | Drusilia’s Journal

November 21, 2002

Day One

Trap's Journal

I normally don’t keep a journal, but I decided to do this in case something happens. I know my companions well enough to trust them, and I think we will get out of here alive.

The day started out slowly enough, a nice leisurely walk from town to this ancient mansion. I’m still not entirely sure why we came, it definitely seemed like a good idea at the time. Upon exploring the upper levels, we encountered a couple of large spiders. They weren’t much of a problem. In the basement is where the fun began.

After being attacked, Fafnir was able to put a couple of goblins to sleep. That done, the third was easily dispatched. Note to self here, I think Fafnir believes I’m a thief despite my protests to the contrary. You’d think after disarming his butter churn he’d know better. Anyway, when I saw the fourth one try to sneak out a secret passage, I knew it was my time to work. I let the others kill the goblins that were sleeping while I searched for the device that allowed the door to open. After that, things got kind of interesting.

Down the first flight of stairs, Drusilia (who seems to have a bit of confidence in me), noticed something funny about the one wall. After a while of looking, I was able to open a door and found the one goblin that ran. Ghelt went to fight, I tried to bet on her, but no one was willing to gamble over it. I knew she’d win, and apparently so did everyone else there.

We came across a few unlocked stuck doors, Ghelt helped to open them. All they were was empty rooms. Except one. One had another door. After I opened the door, I noticed some runes on the floor (which I still need to mention to Fafnir, maybe in the morning). Then two strange beings came out of the room and started attacking us. I decided to set a trap of my own. I had Fafnir douse the doorframe in oil, and told everyone to leave. When the creatures were close enough, I set the oil on fire. It didn’t seem to hurt them, so we ran. When we noticed that we weren’t being chased, we went back to look. It turned out that the things were trapped in their room. (Probably grounded.)

Well, we explored a little more, and found five closed cells. Four were not locked or trapped in any way, so I didn’t check the fifth (my mistake). I sprung a gas trap (which is now detailed in my other book). No real damage done, except to my pride. At first we didn’t find anything different about this room, but I was certain, and after a little bit, I found a secret door. We’re going down in the morning, as for now, my watch is over.

I hope to write again soon,

Beu ‘Trap’ Greenbottle

Posted by Fred at 13:09 | Trap’s Journal

November 24, 2002

Day #1

Ghelt's Journal

Dearest Grun,

It occurred to me to try and keep you up-do-date piecemeal; I’m currently several flights of stairs below the old Everston Manor. Apparently there’s more here than swamp gas and creaky floorboards (although I must admit, there’s already less here than before we arrived!).

The place was left in a hurry - no signs of packing up, which was the first surprise, to me! The second came while examining the upstairs, in the form of two very large spiders. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the gnome Fafnir could - and did - put them to sleep with some sort of spell, which made them much easier to dispatch.

The downstairs was much more interesting.

Starting with a javelin to the chest (yes, I’m learning some things the hard way!), we found ourselves in a battle with several goblins in the cellar! I’m afraid we’re not a cohesive fighting force at all, yet, but we did put them down.

Poor Drusilia’s got her work cut out for herself, healing this party, I fear.

Of course, we had to chase the last goblin down more steps, which led to new discoveries. The goblin disposed of, we explored several tunnels and rooms below the manor house. I wonder just what this family was up to? These subcellars are the same age as the rest of the place! Quite a mystery..

One room even had some large, misshapen, lumpy creatures lumbering around in it. We tried to put them down, but no luck! They were very strong and dense; I could barely dent one with my axe. I fear we were forced to retreat from such an unnatural onslaught. Luckily, they didn’t leave the room they were in, so we could walk by them down the hall.

At the end, we found what looked to be cells. One even had a three-armed skeleton in it; I really am starting to suspect this family wasn’t into anything good or decent. The halfling Trap was living up to his name until he got bored with checking doors - and wouldn’t you know, the last door he opened “trapped” him? Whatever was in the cloud of gas, he got a full dose, and is now obsessed with discovering how to make a trap just like that for himself. I hope he didn’t learn all his skills in such a way...

So, this is where we’ve stopped for the evening: sleeping in and around the last cell, which has a trap door in its floor which we mean to explore on the morrow. I’m writing this while on my night watch.

Wish us luck!
Moradin Bless -
Ghelt


Posted by Kate at 19:51 | Ghelt’s Journal