The Haunted Highlands

The defeat of Ottokar
Is he dead yet?

Well, that was simple enough. I wonder what else this cup can do?

Elswyth runs around the room, dropping random items into the cup – a small pillow, a candle, etc.

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Assault on the Keep, Part the First

Whew that was tough. I thought we were toast when that dog came out of the shadows. Nice coverage there Blaine. I'll have to work on a poem for this place.

At the gatehouse we killed a few goblins
while on our way to seek out the villian
then orcs soon appeared
and a wolf, he did jeer
good thing we had brought our own chaplain

Needs some work, but it may develop over time.

So where do you think this totem-grail thingy might be?

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The burning farm

Blah, Blah, Blah
Yadda, Yadda, Yadda

They fight.

"Well, that was a surprise! Well done everyone. I shall have to compose a poem of our heroics. Did you see how I got that one right in the eye? Anyone seen Cerumar? I saw him heading for the trees and then he disappeared. I wonder if he is ok? I think I saw a couple of those critters in the brush over there – might have even gotten one with my trusty bow I think. Good ole Bethany, she's been awfully reliable lately. Anyone hungry? I could really go for some berries. What do you think we should do with these three?" She nods toward one of the bodies, using her toe to move one of the dropped weapons so that she might have a better look at it.

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IT Begins

It begins

The rain batters against the walls of the Inn. Inside, several patrons are busy eating their dinner and enjoying quiet conversation, oblivious to the pounding noise of the storm outside. The majority of the patrons are a rough lot. A mix of races, with most looking like they've seen a back alley brawl or two, or are looking to have one soon.

The door to the inn opens with a clang, and a tall, muscular man steps in. There is a lull in the noise as many faces turn to inspect the new visitor. Recognition lights a few of the upturned faces while the rest simply return quickly to their previous activity. The door flutters a little in the wind and patrons near the door are buffeted in mist and spray as the driving rain seeks to enter the building. The man in the doorway scans the room briefly, a look of satisfaction crossing his face as he focuses on a narrow table in the corner of the large dining room. He casually closes the door and heads toward this table.

As the man reaches the table he sits down as if invited, and promptly signals for the waitress. He beams at the four seated at the table and says "Well met, my friends." The four at the table, having only recently met, seem somewhat taken aback. "I'm glad you all decided to answer my summons. I'm Glarius Loogie. Some around here call me 'Ratman'. I'm not partial to this name, of course, but it seems to help relations so I use it when the need arises", he says.

"Have you all eaten? I'm starved. What do you recommend here?" he asks out loud to the group. At this, the waitress arrives at his side, and without waiting for a response from the group, he promptly begins to order spiced potatoes and hash. He turns to look at each of the patrons seated at the table, looking each up and down as if sizing them up.

After pausing a minute, he begins speaking again. "It is good that you've come. Finding able bodied souls such as yourself to assist in enterprises such as I have devised has turned out to be such an arduous task. Whether folks from this region know it or not, they're about to get a great heaping hand of help and hopefully we'll get rich in the process."

"Now that you know my name and a hint of why I've brought you here, what do you call yourself and what's your trade?" he asks out loud to the group.

Ellie puts down her fork and sets aside the rest of her salad, ordering a piece of pie.

"I'm Elswyth, singer of songs and storyteller extraordinaire. I'm sure you have all heard of me. I don't know as I'd have ordered the potatoes AND hash though. Seems like an awful lot of starch for a man of your physique. I would have recommended the chicken or fish – good lean protein. You know I've heard there's a cleric down near the coast that lives on fish and seaweed alone. I wonder if he cooks the seaweed and if so how? I mean how do you season seaweed. Always seems to smell funny to me, and feels slimy too. I don't think I could eat seaweed – that's just gross."

Blaine looks him up and down then returns to eating his porridge as if the intruder never sat down.

Then as suddenly as he returns to his food … his hand goes to his throat grabbing it with thumb, pinky and pointing finger crooked while the middle two fingers stayed straight … then moving his hand in a counter-clockwise circle he begins to speak.

"Mmmyyyy nnnammeee iiizzzzz Blaine …. whuuuuttt dddooooo uuuuu wwwaaaaannttt?!" In a low ghost-like whisper that sounded very creepy and eery coming from a young man as young as he is.

The bearded young man sitting at the table arched his brow as Ratman so easily strutted in and sat down. After the "Ratman" explained himself, the steel-clad young man exclaimed, "ah", and after the other two, he introduced himself: He pulled his helmet off his ragged reddish hair and said, "Call me Troll-Hand. I use these metal tools here," he pointed to the spear leaning on the wall behind him, "and here," he gripped his sword's scabbard, "and this shield. They are glad to be my tools, I use them well."

Troll-Hand rested his helmet on the table. "I can help you." he said simply.

Elswyth pauses in her chatter long enough to size up the kid on the other side of the table with peach fuzz on his chin. She thinks to herself… "Heh. Tools." But she moves on quickly, more interested in examining Blaine's neck than trying to figure out why Troll-hand has both a weird name and a possibly unhealthy attachment to his, er, tools.

Looking to Blaine she strokes her neck and asks "so what's that all about?" And to the Loogie man "and what's this all about?"
And to no one in general "anyone seen that waitress? where's my pie? I hope she remembers the ice cream and caramel sauce." And to the other guy/gal at the table "You got a name?"

She pauses long enough to shove a too big piece of bread in her mouth and gulp it down with her drink.

"Cerumar….Cerumar Awemedinade." Looking moire disheveled than many elves could ever manage, he savors another sip of the warm cider before him.

Turning to Glarius "I have been traveling for several weeks now, but these last five days have made me nearly question my resolve. Does it always rain such in these parts? Ah, but we are not here for smalltalk. I am an initiate of the Order of the Flaming Tree…. A warrior, trained to protect elven lands. What is it that we can do to help you?"


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The call goes out
Adventures in the highlands
Found on local tavern help-wanted ads board:
Let's meet up at Dirty's and see what trouble we can create in and around the Haunted Highlands. All manner of folks welcome. Please be prepared to adventure for many weeks in the dangerous woods or deep dank dungeon. Bring your own beer tankards and other necessary supplies. Treasure will be provided, providing that you are brave enough to take it! Ask for "Ratman Loogie" at Dirty's

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