Terry's Campaign 1

Session 2 - Restal

Ninjas and thieves don’t always get the benefit of a full night of rest. How else are we to sneak around in the shadows of the city? So I was not too disturbed when we were awoken in the middle of the night by some local police. Although next time they might do so without banging on the inn door. I instinctively turned invisible just in case it was trouble. Well, it kind of was trouble but not from the police. They came to tell us that the merchant’s main store was broken into. One of the guards was dead outside and no one was brave enough to venture in. Oliver and I turned invisible, he with some help from Glim, and we checked out the place. This guy was loaded judging by all of the fine wares. And although some of it was trashed, there was a whole lot of valuable stuff just lying around. No one probably noticed that a nice little gem went missing, right? Eventually we decided the place was mostly empty so we called Mordecai and Glim to join us. We made our way down to the vault and asked his wife, who was clearly still very distraught to let us in. She did, but still nothing. But then I heard a clicking sound, noticed a hidden door in the wall, and heard a murmuring. A bit of investigation and we realized that there was a trap door outside of the vault which seemed to have captured someone, or something. None of us could understand the thing but Mordecai though he could find the witch from yesterday’s carnival game to help. We kept watch over the thing for quite a while but eventually they made it back, Mordecai, jill, and another. A negotiation ensued and we learned that this thing was a) an addict and b) there for the thieves guild. I should have known it was those scum. Always trying to take advantage of an opening. Well, this one didn’t actually get any of the goodies so I just stole her sword in the process of ‘rescuing’ her from the pit. We’ll let the police deal with her.

It was past dawn at that point so we decided to investigate last night’s murder a bit deeper. The body was taken to the Temple of Erastil, so off we went. We learned a few things there. The means of death was that he was torn in two, but not like a beast’s doing He was grabbed by something with hands and torn apart. And the acid was definitely faked after the fact. But we didn’t learn much more from there, although we did meet a nice priestess who tried to answer our questions, for a while anyway until Jill mentioned the thieves guild.

We headed off to come up with a plan against the thieves guild ,and to check on our friend at the jail. We had no luck convincing them to let her go despite our evidence of our innocence. Useless lackey. We were alerted to another commotion though. Four citizens were squaring off against two of the circus guards. I turned invisible and moved closer, but before i got there Oliver had disarmed all of them with his bow. Pretty damn cool actually.

No sooner had we settled that problem when another ruckus caught our attention from the direction of the Chimera tent. People were in a panic, although I don’t really know why. The priestess of Erastil was already dead. Torn apart in just the same way. What a shame. I do feel partially responsible. We were just talking to her after all and seemingly caused her some distress which likely led to this unfortunate demise. We followed the trail of the killers and came across 3 clown outfits. But the trail was cold after that. Another dead end it seems. Back in the tent there were three vials that I could clearly identify as mutagens. We had suspected something those lines at the merchant’s crime scene. Now it is definite. Three killers who are using alchemy against us. If I didn’t know better I would start to suspect myself a bit, sneaking around killing people while using alchemy. Hmmm….

We decide to ask the local alchemy guru, Rubella, if she can help solve the mystery . But along the way we run into a bunch of drunks practically killing a circus kid. Mordecai scares the crap out of them and then heals the kid up. Unfortunately, for them, the punks decide to come back with some friends. They died. I kind of thought Mordecai and Oliver were a bit rash to slaughter them, but once the blood started flowing I did my part. Drunk idiots they were after all. Distressingly though they were a bunch of poor idiots. Maybe they drank all of their money away. I dunno but it wasn’t worth it . Still, we saved the boy and took him back to his parents. They rewarded us with a cool scarf that really seemed to help Glim, even though he and Jill had nothing to do with saving the boy.

it was getting late by now so we called it another night. I am beat. But, of course, still no rest. Another murder. Another visit from the police. Another investigation. A nobody, hung from a tree with his eyes gouged out and a sign around his neck say that the thieves take care of their own. And a letter from an employer, but Jill is certain it is a fake. But why? Just more questions and not enough answers.

Time to go back to rest. Tomorrow we will visit Rubella again. Jill and Glim think they can ‘kill’ the Chimera to free our friend. And most importantly, I think, Oliver and I have had enough with the thieves. Time for some intel gathering.

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Session 2-Jill

Spending the night as what can only be a comfortable sea hag den was unlike any experience I have before. The dreams I had were a watery wonder, and somewhat disturbing but I felt like I learned something. I think I must have seen what could only be explained as an Orc or something, seducing a sea hag. Dreams are weird.
Taethelyn and I sat down to breakfast of fish wrapped in rice on dried seaweed with sauces and spices apparently, and even some tiny fish eggs. It was such a pretty display but what I thought would be a light appetizer, was delicious and very filling. Just as we finished up there was someone requesting Taethelyn’s assistance translating, and she asked if I wanted to go along.
As it turned out, while we were enjoying talking all night, the city was all a twitter with the death of a salesman who apparently was attacked by the Chimera. The investigators for the circus were saying that the Chimera was not a real one, which I knew already but now they were tasked with proving it.
It seems we need to get this trainer out of jail so they can simply leave town. But all the things we are finding are leading us to believe the thieves guild is behind all this, and blaming it on the circus. Including sending people who they had former dealings with as far as getting them addicted to substances they must be peddling, to do some dirty deeds that keep ending in their death. This last body they turned up, it was a bad forgery obviously trying to frame some dude Erne Breaton.

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Sesson 1 - Mortdecai

Through the gate we went, and charged for the magic items like always. Seems to be getting more expensive these days. I remember when it was 10 copper each to get through the door, and over half the population could not even afford that. Now it seems everyone has some extra change in their pockets. Just means more thieves are going to be running around and cutting open coin purses.

It seemed odd that Ollie was with me this time instead of with some dame wrapped around his finger. He always liked attention, and I was happy to let him have it. I put a lot of effort to make sure no one else gets to know me. Even though I run around a lot, and have absolutely no ability to stick to the shadows, I tend to not attract a lot of attention. Maybe I have just been lucky.

I was told to at least get in some of the games I knew I could do well at. Ollie insisted that I do the arm wrestling. I was able to win that one pretty easily but, as I knew it would, it attracted some attention. A guard now knows my face. I might have to make some changes soon.

Ollie aced an archery contest, although someone else was showing some promise with a crossbow. Some bard named Glim. He was a small little gnome that seemed to joke a lot. Funny little fella he is. There was another event that Ollie talked me into called Catch the Wench. I won that one as well, but it was rather close and the more I got into it, the more I found myself enjoying the cheering of the crowd. The last round got me a very large cheer, and a slap from the wench. Still, gold is gold, and I received the winning pot.

I saw Ollie in a foot race with some odd balls that didn’t make it half way, but one person in particular was able to keep up. I noted him as one of this towns more famous thieves, Restal. Its a good thing there is no contract out on him. I have been aware of his skill for some time, but I never actually thought he could keep up with Oliver. It was impressive to say the least.

The next time I saw Restal he was walking away from some kind of hammer game. Ollie of course chimed in and told me to try it. I think I over did it a bit, because when I hit the plate, the ball went up and a Thunderous Roar made every single creature in the cages go nuts. I guess I hit it too hard. The guy was stunned and gave me a weird look while handing me my prize. Definitely going to have to change my appearance.

After that, 8 bells signified that the main attraction was about to start. We made our way to the tent, and as Ollie was chowing down on a turkey leg, the Chimera came out. It was enormous, magestic, and… not real… I knew something was off because there was no shaking, no roars, no acid bath from the dragon head. I decided to detect magic on it, but to my surprise nothing came from the Chimera… it was behind the chimera that something was showing evil. I motioned to Ollie, telling him to be ready. When the show ended, I followed the evil presence out of the back and into another tent. Then the evil disappeared. I cut through the side of the tent, and decided to investigate. There were some spell components here that would have told me something had I paid attention to any spellcraft at all before now. I went to retrieve a witch who I had seen earlier do another game. She had said the words illusion before I heard another commotion behind me.

A salamander had gotten out of its cage, and that little Gnome named Glim was speaking to it. I could not understand a word but he was able to get it back in its cage before anything bad happened. Still, something is not right about this circus. Animals escaping, a serious evil presence showing up, and a chimera that was only an illusion. I felt that something terrible was about to happen, and unfortunately this intuition was normally not wrong.

I found the one who was said to be the chimera’s trainer and confronted her. She was a follower of Nethys, which was a diety of magic. She had said the chimera was not around right now, but when confronted about the fact that it was an illusion, she told the truth. The real facts were that this girl could conjure illusions and that was how they made most of their money. The chimera was nothing more than a major image.

Later that evening I found myself in a bar with Ollie and many others. I was getting tired and falling asleep when I heard a commotion. I was just about to chalk it up to another false alarm when someone shouted murder. I grabbed Zasel and ran outside to see what had happened. Sure enough, there was a body mauled by a beast. Many people were saying chimera, because of the acid burns and the tracks around the body. I would have gotten a closer look, but too many people were around and I could not get past the guards. Still, from what Ollie could tell me, there was no way a heavy chimera could make those tracks. The claw prints were too shallow.

We later heard that Jarazona was arrested for this crime. It seems really odd that they would arrest the trainer of a fake chimera for a murder. I later found out from Jarazona that she would rather die than hurt the circus’s reputation by saying the main attraction was nothing more than an illusion.

Still, this is a rather interesting investigation all of a sudden. Who would want this man dead? Why would they want Jarazona to take the fall? Why would they wish the murder to be so public? Why put so much effort into making it seem like a circus creature committed the crime? Why the chimera? There are other choices… Why release the salamander before committing the crime? Who is this really about; the victim, the entire circus, or Jarazona herself? So many questions, so little time…

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Session 1 - Restal

Today was festival day at Ludgershall. I entered through the silver gate, tariffs are getting more and more expensive all the time. 9 gold! Seriously? But there are so many people and so many thieves. It will surely be worth it. Down at the wide I checked out the vendors and made my way over to the competitions. The first was a foot race. I am pretty fast so I signed up. I was doing pretty well but there was this other guy who finished ahead of me. Second prize was 50 GP so at least I got my money back. Next I tried the obstacle course. I knew the climbing and swimming would be a challenge for me but what the heck. 50 GP is worth the try. Wouldn’t you know it. I was beat by the same guy, who I later learned to be named Oliver.

After that, I decided to watch for a while. There was an arm wrestling contest won by someone named Mordecai. He later grappled the wench really well. Made quite a showing for themselves. I later saw Oliver and Mordecai hanging out together. Ringers from the across the ravine probably. More entertaining was the magic show. Destroy a boulder, get a feather, and find the needle in a hay stack. Impressive display but I’ve seen my family members do better. Still, I can’t do that so hard to criticize. I finally tried my hand again with the lion head. Crap. That hammer is heavy. I couldn’t even pick it up. Kind of embarrassing really.

The I heard the eight bells signifying the showing of the Chimera so I followed the masses to the main tent. The Chimera came out for a few seconds but something seemed amiss. It was just too unnatural. So I sneaked around to the tent behind the cage buffing up as I went. I didn’t hear much coming from the tent. Strangely there was Mordecai and Oliver too. I am not really sure what in the hell Mordecai was thinking but he just took this huge scythe and cut a hole in the damn tent. I quickly went invisible. I didn’t want to be seen around that. But while invisible I went in and checked out all of – nothing. Where’d the Chimera go?

Everything after that was just strange. Mordecai was running around everywhere talking to people. Then everyone was screaming about a loose dragon which was just one of the zoo pets. A bard managed to lure it back into its cage with a turkey leg. Crisis averted without any blood, although I wonder how it got out in the first place?

All in all it was an adventuresome day, and reasonable lucrative. I headed off to the local bar for a couple of drinks – always a good place to pick up some work if you keep your eyes open. And lo and behold it worked. A couple of hours later, once the bard had finished his comedy routine, there was another commotion. The head of the merchants guild was murdered. And it looked like the doings of the Chimera, which of course doesn’t exist. His handler was arrested and refused to tell the secrets of her illusions. But I bet she will pay handsomely if I can clear her name.

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Session 1 Julianna

Jackson is nagging me. I have never seen him so insistent that I take him to the festivities in town. He is trying to tell me it’s destiny and all that but I reminded him he doesn’t believe in destiny as he only believes in religions as non-academic labels of different planes of existence. He said that was unfair to throw his words back at him because he’s only a hedgehog after all. Honestly I just got tired of his whining so I went. Walking through the door, there was this half-elf eyeing me up and down. I realized he’s drawing pictures of everyone, not a great likeness but who cares.
Jackson said he just wants to watch the activities and I suppose it will be fun enough, so we watched some arm wrestling, and some of the races. The dwarf with “Joy” tattooed on his lip was a first for me. Suddenly I realized Jackson is sending me towards most of the events with the same group of guys, and I realize he’s up to something. One guy seems to be a bit bumbling but quick, but almost drown on the obstacle course.
There was this gnome who gave an expensive ring to a little girl. Then this guy came and snaked it right out of his hands and that gnome practically jumped on his back and wrestled him to the ground. It was a sight to see. Turns out he is a bard, so no wonder he was fun to watch. I supposed I started following him around a bit just for entertainment purposes but I wasn’t stalking him or anything. I kept seeing him around and he was telling a few jokes in the inn, but I realized I didn’t have a room. I figured I’d see where the carnies were staying, see if I could find a spare space in a tent, but I realized someone was following me.
I ended up casting light on him because he ran when I tried to walk up to him, but it turned out he was a servant of the local council woman. He invited me to come meet her. I had no idea why he walked up and down the town for hours and hours, luckily I was wearing comfy shoes and had nothing better to do. We entered a warehouse into a great room like one I haven’t ever seen before. She was perfectly nice and let me know that she knew I was a witch. She clearly was a hag of some type, but not like any I had ever seen. She was surrounded by water and it had a powerful effect in her house. She invited me to stay the night and made me feel very at home. Perhaps she needed me for one of her coven spells, but I had no reason to turn away her generosity and kindness.

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Backstory - Oliver

Is it possible to have so much family around yet still feel alone. We lived in a small town outside of the city on our own. And when I saw we, there’s a lot of we. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins…All together, but all separate. For the first few years that I can remember, I didn’t see my Dad very often. He was always off on adventures with his buddies as apparently he was wont to do even before he had met my mother. But staying at home just wasn’t his way. When he did come back, we would teach me what he could. His weapon of choice was the bow. Apparently he could be deadly from afar and just as deadly up close when the time called for it. Always in search for the big payday to move us into the upper echelons of the city. At least the merchant middle. While I didn’t see my other family too often, the only other kid my age was my cousin so we did get to play together once in a while. A good game of hide and seek was always good and I always seemed to win. It surely helped when I found a secret hiding place near our house. I little cave that was very easy to miss but I happened to stumble across it. Being an only child I was left to my own devices most of the time, especially being so far removed from the city. Once in a while I’d go with my mother into the city to do some trading and to buy what meager food we could. Mostly we caught our own food.

Eventually, the time apart took its toll on my parents marriage and they eventually split. I wanted to go with my father so he could teach me the ways of the bow more intently. And the extra time very much helped. With me in the picture more and wanting to learn after him, he decided to take a job with the local militia or military or something to teach their archers which left him plenty of time to also teach me as well as meet someone else eventually and get remarried. She was a pretty nice lady. I still see Mom from time to time but I’m not sure how long that will happen. I think she’s mad at me for going with Dad but I’m not sure if it’s because she cared or because she just wanted something Dad couldn’t have. But apparently, being tied down put my father on edge way too much. His drinking increased and being at home, even for training, just didn’t seem worth it any more. Lydia, my stepmom, had also had enough and had left in the night one night while he was out drinking. As soon as I was old enough, I took her cue and left as well. I was old enough and enough well known thanks to my father that I was able to go directly into a military unit as a solder archer. I was able to avoid him easily, even though he taught the archers. My superiors knew what was going on and he had been dismissed from his position. Nobody wants to learn from a drunk, no matter how good they used to be. I didn’t see a lot of action, although I was a part of a raiding party on a slave encampment. We were able to free the slaves and I had overheard one of them talking about someone with a scar on their face actually being able to get free and run away a LONG time ago. This old man and his story of times past. He’d been there a LONG time and said that this person was not of this place. Something more infernal, but still a good person. My curiosity about this person being able to run away as well as buck his heritage made me think that maybe they might be good for the soldier ranks. Clearly he’s mentally and physically strong enough to endure captivity and still escape. That’s someone we could use in the ranks. Securing the slave encampment was one of the last things I participated in before me enlistment ended.

After my enlistment, they gave me my father’s position of training new recruits in the ways of the bow. It was monotonous. Day in, day out. Eventually, I decided to go out on my own at night. Just a little sport shooting. For fun. Not of people. Just things. To test my skill and see if I could hit it. A sign from a 100 yards. An apple through a window. Ok, sometimes shooting at something that happened to scare the shit out of people probably wasn’t the best idea, but it was still nice to know they had no idea where it had come from. Apparently though, someone WAS watching me, unbeknownst to me. I was approached a few nights later by the thieves guild. It was additional income so I took it. it started off easy enough. I was the lookout during night heists from the rich people or from merchants who weren’t the nicest of people. As things went on and it got deeper, it devolved into stuff I was unwilling to do. I was tasked with taking out a merchant. Someone I remember dealing with as a kid. He was a nice man. Ran a nice shop and was always fair. But he had something they wanted. But that was a line I would not cross. I will not kill innocent people. Not in my city. I would punish those that treated my family crappy, or bad people in general who profited off the suffering of others, but not an innocent. I was cast out of the guild for that. Not that I minded at that point. That actually gave me the opportunity to know how some of the more unsavory thieves worked so I could follow them and remove them from the board. Bad people have no place in the world. Life is already tough enough as it is, even if those of higher station don’t deserve it, or could help out the lower class. Sometimes, it would seem like someone would beat me to the punch. I’d have eyes on someone and all of a sudden, they’d be down on the ground and all of their stuff would be missing when I checked them out. Not that I don’t mind the help but who the hell is taking out the people I planned on punishing?

While I was on one of my stakeouts of one of these unsavory thieves, I actually happened to see someone that I had heard about in the past on that last slave encampment raid. I saw someone with a scar on their face. and while he was doing a good job of hiding it under an eye patch, I could clearly see the scar and that he was hiding his inhumanity. You don’t get that color of skin around here that easily without sitting int he scorching sun all day. I followed him for a while instead and found out that he was a private investigator. Eventually I approached him and learned that his name was Mortdecai. I explained to him how I knew about him from the old man at the slave encampment. I saw how he snuck around at night too and asked if he also worked with the thieves guild, although clearly he was not one for hiding. More of an enforcer I would have though but no, he just worked as a PI. Not to mention there’s no hiding that huge friggin scythe on his back. Apparently the PI game paid pretty well, so in between working as an archery trainer, we also worked together on a few jobs, as well as him giving me some individual ones where I needed to do some tracking and just reporting things. I also accompanied him on some of his jobs that were just straight up in your face interrogations and had to put down someone sneaking up on him from behind. More than once. But I have no problems taking out someone who is about to try and take out someone I would call a friend. Eventually, this gig paid more than enough for me to live a decent living so I gave up the archery training. They weren’t too happy about it but I needed more freedom to do what I wanted. And working with Morty definitely qualified. We’ve been working together for a few months now, spending our down time drinking it up at the tavern and being entertained by a bard named Glim. He’s actually quite good at comedy. Always has the room laughing. Laughter at times like these are needed for everyone. I hope we have a nice Festival of Merchants. That always makes for a nice time….

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Backstory - Restal

When you are an elf, it can be awfully hard to be the fifth of six children. There are so many years when it seems that no one recognizes if you are coming or going, or just sitting in the corner waiting for someone to notice. Eventually, it becomes a game. How long can I go before they notice me missing? I mean, it’s not like they don’t care. But everyone is so busy, and elves are an independent bunch. Eventually, it leads to hiding in the shadows and disguising one’s self. And later, if they don’t notice me missing, I wonder if they will miss this thing or that? Soon, with so many years to pass, one becomes extremely skilled at these games.

And while most elves are in-tune with the arcane magical arts, I never excelled in such things. But I did learn their power and benefits. My parent’s and siblings always had more than a few magical and non-magical potions around the house. They would often go mysteriously missing. It was almost like an addiction. I definitely learned that some of them really made sneaking around a lot easier. In my 50’s, I met Shiloh who taught me a little bit about alchemy. I struggled with the studies but eventually figured out how to make a few extracts for myself. He also taught me the black art of making poisons. I still have some reservations about using them frequently, it seems an unfair and harsh tactic to the unsuspecting. But when someone or something seems intent on hurting you, all bets are off.

Regardless, my forte is definitely sneaking around and striking where they are not expecting it. Hiding in plain sight. And taking for myself those things that were not theirs to begin with. I have myself a nice little living stealing from the thieves. Many are so simplistic and naive. Why they would think that just because they are the ones ripping people off that they cannot be ripped off themselves? Especially young humans. Rash. Brash. And Clumsy. Sure, I have been caught a time or two. But no one ever tends to look hard when a dead thief turns up, especially when you leave a prized possession or two behind that someone is happy to get back. And that leads to the best money-making scheme of all. Claiming Rewards. Want to find the guy who stole your heirloom magic wand? How about that awesome shield your father used in the Great Battle? Go looking (and offering enough gold) and I might just be able to help.

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Backstory- Julianna

Most intellectual beings forget in a most convenient manner, the practices and rules that took my mother away from me. Among more simple thinkers, the stories turn into nothing more than bedtime stories and often time depict the burning of their neighbors as heroes valiantly rooting out the evil from their towns and keeping their children safe. Some stories, the once community member once tied to the stake after having their hands chopped off at the wrists suddenly revealed themselves as a scaly unrelenting beats with snakes for hair, and who’s breath turned the air to frost as she burned and withered into ashes.
I have seen my mother cast before without the use of her hands or lips. In part, cutting off her hands was a futile business, but I suppose bleeding out would have caused her less pain. She perhaps could have even saved herself, but it was clear what she chose to do with her dying proclamation. Among the smell of smoke and burning skin, her eyes burrowed not at me but at a man among the crowd. Anyone else would have thought he was simply hiding among the mob, chanting for her death as a cover up for his next action. He stopped his chants, dropped his torch and rushed to where I was watching my mother burn. He scooped me up with the strength conviction of a mother, and ran with me still bound in ropes. As he jostled me and ran towards the edge of the clearing, the crowd silenced. Some called for the man to bring me back and others were at best, indifferent. It was then my mother’s body exploded spreading a boiling acid over the crowd. Those standing closest were silenced in their hate forever. Some were merely scared from the hot boiling blood, but with a scar that wouldn’t ever heal as it stained with the force of an arcane mark. The last gift to me my mother left, was to be able to easily identify the vessels who carried the type of hatred and brutality who would burn a mother in front of her little girl. Often I wonder what I would do if I saw one of those people. For sure they would be old and withered by now as most were human and live short lives.
The man was able to find a clearing after a number of miles and a path that seemed to clear itself for our passage. I traveled no longer bound in ropes but at times atop of his shoulders, even though we never spoke. In that clearing, he simply set me down and looked at me with a severe sense of indecision then retreated back into the forest. I was getting cold but not feeling overall numb to the events of the day, when a young elf with darker skin appeared. He circled around me as if to decide if I was prey or a pretty little ornament. He left and I continued to sit when I noticed on the opposite side of the clearing movement from under some leaves. It was nothing but a hedgehog, but it appeared to be staring at me. He was fascinating, so I stared back. He came close and closer to me, as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the language. After a few minutes that seemed much longer, the talk darkish elf appeared again. He startled the hedgehog away and he leered at me much as he did before. Finally he said, “We are you coming along or not?” I was very young and had no real options so of course I followed.
It seemed among the trees and caves in the area these people lived just as easily as and comfortably as my mother and I lived at the academy, but the transition was not so easy for me. Druids have a much easier way of melding nature around them, and melding themselves into nature. While they allowed me to grow up among them, they didn’t do anything for me. I was made to learn their was and make my own contributions even knowing that my school of talents were not naturally geared for their land. As time passed on however, certain things did become more second nature. I became quite good at healing slavs although it was easier for me to make the elixirs or simply cast, but there was some insistence that I learn to work a cauldron even though that’s not what the other Druids would use. I as tried as I might, I didn’t have much of a talent for communicating with the animals the way others did, except for that hedgehog. He came to visit me often and eventually I was able to speak with him not as a companion but as a familiar. I suspect they all knew I communicated with him differently than they communicated with animals but no one seemed to mind much after a while. They tried to encourage their own beliefs and practices but somehow push me to develop talents in which they thought my own lineage would favor.
As it turns out, that little hedgehog was incredibly intelligent about most things. Jackson, he called himself, would tell me not only of things in this world but of different planes. He took years to tell me of all different ways and beliefs and it wasn’t until he revealed his true intention that I understood why he and the Druid clan I had known as home were taking the time to educate me. They asked me to leave.
It wasn’t uncaring, but more of a predetermined plan. They felt I reached the limits of what I could learn with them, and I was of age and perfectly capable now to take care of myself, but my mind was still hungry. They weren’t pushing me but encouraging me actually, to feel my mind and my talents. I wasn’t to thank them for anything but be willing to serve them if they ever came across a time when they were in need. I suppose the seers might know of an event coming where a talented witch might be a good ally. It was just before I left they made it clear, I was no druid, but in fact a witch with druid training. While I was well versed in arts of arcane, it would take some university learning to grow my talents further and practice and perfect hexes. Jackson assured me that the small town that burned my mother and almost me, was not a common paradigm when it came to witches or people who used arcane magic. Other areas of the world in fact celebrated it, openly studied and practiced, created bought and sold items and artifacts and even competed their talents. I have only even known burnings and teachings amongst the outskirts of proper society, the idea of walking among nobles and guards seemed like the fairytale. The idea of having access to a school and learning more was very appealing.
Jackson came with me, and it was easier than I anticipated to secure a spot in the academy. The teachings were almost mundane it was more aligning the practices they would teach with the practical that I had seen. More difficult was being among so many people with so many different intentions. I didn’t make friends easily. I think for a while they thought I would “clean up nicely” but I seemed to always have dirt on my face and couldn’t ever get the social niceties correct. I could hear people mutter things like, “she is hag material” and for the longest time I didn’t understand that to even be an insult, as most hags I had known were very powerful and talented with long lives and lineage. To be honest, I don’t see the problem with that, but Jackson insists that becoming an actual hag at this point is too limiting for my talents.
Now it’s years after academy and I have still been a bit transient, looking for opportunities to learn and practice out. The social niceties still allude me at times, but the adventure of it all is rather exciting. Jackson is suggesting we try to go out on some actual adventures, but what he fails to forget is that outside the somewhat stable walls of the cities, things try to squish you. And while I can often defend us and run, there are a great many things that are a threat especially if we get surprised. After all, that’s how they caught my mother.

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Backstory - Mortdecai

Growing up on the city streets is not difficult for humans… I however, am not human. At first glance, everyone assumes I am, but when closely examined you can see the difference in my left eye. It is why I normally keep my hood down and my eye patch on. This city doesn’t like outsiders, and I am not even from this plane of existence, so outcast never even comes close. Every once in a while I have to change my appearance, the color of my cloak, the shade of my skin, to avoid becoming familiar to others.

Early life was difficult for an orphan. I never knew my parents, or even where I was truly from. I was found wandering the woods one day, starving and half dead. No memory of where I had come from, or where I had been. The ones who found me soon made me a slave, and performed some sort of magic on my eye to forcefully see through it themselves. This not only gave them certain control over me, it granted them the ability to give me orders from anywhere telepathically. When I tried running away, I would be summoned back and forced to stand in place for hours without food or water. It was at least a good thing I looked like a human, because I watched horrifically as many others were butchered by the guards in front of us all. Some even looked at me and wondered why I was not being executed myself.

A few years go by, and I find myself being able to resist commands from the watchers. At first it was just hesitating to pick something up they told me to, but as the days went on I started resisting harder and harder. Eventually it was noticed and I was summoned. It had only been 4 years since I was found, and already I was much larger and stronger than the other kids. This combined with my ability to now completely resist the watchers commands, they summoned the guards and I was to be executed. They had found out my secret and I was forced to flee. Regardless of the fact that it was slave labor, they fed us. Now I was all alone… again.

Months past, then years, until finally I found myself on the streets of Ludgershall. It was much easier to find edible food in the city, but it was even easier to find work. A bustling trade route connected Ludgershall to Calisham, and profit was everywhere. I made myself a makeshift eye patch to hide my brand and offered my hand at anyone who could pay for my services. A lonely old Blacksmith was my main source of income for many more years. I had no experience with a hammer or any sort of weird machine the old man used to make weapons. The only thing I knew was that one weapon always called out to me.

Up on the mantle of this old mans shop was a scythe. It had a really nice, silver sheen to it, even though it wasn’t made of anything but steel. I began asking him about it every chance I could. He just smiled and waved me off like it was nothing to worry about. Still, it was like the weapon kept me in a trance for days to come. Life was not always questions and food for the old man though. He was being heckled by some rich know-it-all who kept coming around and wanting to buy the scythe from him. He simply responded with a smile and the 3 words that made this rich lord red in the face… “Not for sale.”

For years I spent with the old man. Even though he would tell me nothing about the scythe on the mantle, he showed me how to use one for cutting down wheat. Eventually I used it so much that even in a fight I could wield it better than most swordsmen. Just because the city was bustling with profit, doesn’t mean everyone had money. In the lower part of town, you had to protect yourself. The guards would rarely lift a finger around here.

Like every story, tragedy always seems to be the turning point, and this one was no different. Gathering enough wheat for a long winter was not easy when working as a Blacksmith’s aid. 16 hours with short breaks for eating in between, then as much sleep as you could get before doing it again the next day. When returning to the old blacksmith, I found him dead and his shop torn apart. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the rich bastard had waited long enough for the weapon he wanted. I couldn’t let this go, but attacking a rich man in public would be suicide. Especially if I was outed to the public as a former slave. I would be tossed in the Colosseum to fight for my life the very same day. I had to be more clever than that, so I hatched a plan.

One thing about guards that come to the lower city, they don’t like it here. So any time they can find themselves getting a drink or blowing off steam, they take it. It wasn’t hard to convince them of a new ale someone had come up with in one of the local taverns. I could even convince them that the drink they had tasted multiple times before was better than ever. Getting a rich man to drink; easy. Guards; easy. Having the guards come in after the rich man. Piece of cake. I sat down with the rich man and had a wonderful conversation about life, love, women, romance, wealth, murder, theft, horses. Eventually, everyone in the bar was quiet as this man started spilling his guts about the men he paid to get the job done. Once everyone heard it, the guards couldn’t ignore the law anymore. They took him in, and even I had to let out a small smile when they hanged him from the gallows.

Of course, I didn’t stick around. I wanted to be done with the whole scenario. I was eventually tracked down by the old mans lost son. He told me the actual story behind the scythe. How it was a family heirloom that had a celestial spirit inside of it. The old man was a Paladin from back in the day. The son had no use for it because he was a traveling merchant, but since I was mentioned in the will he wanted me to have it. No sooner had I grasped the weapon, the spirit made itself known to me. It was none other than the old man himself.

The old man gave me even more training in the ways of the Paladin. He taught me to feel no fear, rise above sickness, and slay the evil that haunts the land. Eventually I found that the old man’s name was Zasel. He was also not from this plane of existence, and informed me of my heritage. He said that even though I was born in evil, I was destined to become a Paladin. The lessons came easily, and my skill with the scythe was growing rapidly. Even though I am something called a Pitborn Teifling, I remained almost completely human.

30 years had past since then, and with those years came new kings, some sort of conflict among Ludgershall and Calisham. A treaty between them shortly after. More profits again after that. During this time I spent so many years changing my appearance, cutting my hair in different ways, getting different clothes and taking up different jobs throughout the city. Eventually I settled into a new line of work that didn’t make face to face interaction all that required. I became a Private Investigator.

Being a Private Investigator makes enemies, and I didn’t want to accrue a reputation. My line of work is something that only works with a certain amount of anonymity. I am not your average P.I though… Most of the ones I met before were pickpockets, rogues, monks, and even the occasional cleric. Paladin’s normally end up being protectors of the church, guards for the royal family, or even one of the guards that police the city. I have no patience for such a life as that, and I feel that eventually it would expose me anyway. Still, not many of them have a silver tongue like I do either.

Through the years, I found myself normally in service to the high class. Most of them had me following family members and spouses. Meeting them in bars to find out what secrets they are hiding. Even though I am not very light footed, when you are able to change clothes in an instant when rounding a corner, you never really attract attention. I gathered the information, delivered under the cover of night, and then disappeared after receiving the rest of the payment. Those who didn’t pay met Zasel. It didn’t happen often, but occasionally I brought back news they did not approve of, or sometimes believe. Still, rules are rules, and no one breaks mine. Zasel actually enjoys this line of work, which I found rather interesting. Apparently he is rather against ripping off family, or making a mockery of the vows in marriage. He’s picky that way.

Word spread around that a branch of the military finally found the slave camp. One of the men who raided the camp heard of my escape and eventually was able to track me down. He was a stout human, light on his feat and could definitely hold his own. I was rather impressed that he found me in the first place, so he became my first real friend since the old man in over 30 years. He often accompanied me on different investigations for clients. Oliver was quite the archer, and he knew it. On a few occasions he saved my life with his uncanny accuracy. He and I have been partners ever since.

Anyway, we now come up to present day, where the Festival of Merchants are to celebrate their successful ventures and profits. A day I like to watch from afar, and keep my eye out for potential clients and newly active thieves.

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Welcome to your campaign!
A blog for your campaign

Wondering how to get started? Here are a few tips:

1. Invite your players

Invite them with either their email address or their Obsidian Portal username.

2. Edit your home page

Make a few changes to the home page and give people an idea of what your campaign is about. That will let people know you’re serious and not just playing with the system.

3. Choose a theme

If you want to set a specific mood for your campaign, we have several backgrounds to choose from. Accentuate it by creating a top banner image.

4. Create some NPCs

Characters form the core of every campaign, so take a few minutes to list out the major NPCs in your campaign.

A quick tip: The “+” icon in the top right of every section is how to add a new item, whether it’s a new character or adventure log post, or anything else.

5. Write your first Adventure Log post

The adventure log is where you list the sessions and adventures your party has been on, but for now, we suggest doing a very light “story so far” post. Just give a brief overview of what the party has done up to this point. After each future session, create a new post detailing that night’s adventures.

One final tip: Don’t stress about making your Obsidian Portal campaign look perfect. Instead, just make it work for you and your group. If everyone is having fun, then you’re using Obsidian Portal exactly as it was designed, even if your adventure log isn’t always up to date or your characters don’t all have portrait pictures.

That’s it! The rest is up to your and your players.

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