Death's Red Eyes

Vahen Ffian

I’m too old for this. The training of The Flower helps, but each mile, each hour, each standing, each sitting rests heavy on these old, old bones.

Horses were a bad idea. I have traveled miles and miles over the years searching and gathering, most of them by the power of my own two feet, but, when one is in a hurry, horses can be a blessing. Not this time.

I was in such a hurry, the Red Eyes upon us, surrounded by such youth and enthusiasm, I pushed. Pushed too hard. Pushed past my own body’s endurance. After the first day of hard riding I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t sit. I couldn’t get back up on the horse. Sure, I told them my horse was lame, that I needed to rest. Sure, they nodded and allowed me the delusion, they are an odd bunch, but they are good and kind at heart. Even the demon child.

For my pride and impatience I am paying with a delay of two days of travel. Two days closer to the end of the world. Two days less that I have to figure out the puzzles before me.

I’m too old for this.

A Treasure Found
Eden Gunner

I will never understand the appeal of prolonged travel by horse. They are a pain to climb upon, and though they are faster, the trip is certainly less comfortable than travel by foot. I don’t mind horses, but more than a few days is difficult to bear.

We were ten days or so into our journey. We should have arrived at the Valley of Scorn around then, but Vahen had trouble with her horse, not to mention Dirt’s dislike for the creatures. We were passing through a vaguely wooded area, not completely devoid of life but for the most part abandoned. Take away the group around me, and the horse, and I could have been scouting out the area of my next job. These empty roads were fantastic places to corner a target, as there would be no one around to intervene, and no where for the mark to go.
I was tired of the horse, and jumped to the ground to stretch. There was little else to do, and I wandered away from the others a little, leaving the wisp of a trail that we had been following, but keeping the others within earshot. I could easily catch up when I was ready.

The ground had not been disturbed for a long time. The grass was tall, swaying slightly in a light breeze. There were few signs of animals, a few small rodents perhaps but nothing really to spend any effort trying to catch. The way seemed clear.

Even in all of my years setting traps, I have never seen a pit so old. The grass fell beneath my feet and I plummeted about six feet down. I hit the bottom and immediately jumped to my feet. The wooden stakes around me, the ones that could have killed me, were rotted and unsubstantial. The ground was springy and covered in debree, and I wondered for a moment just how deep this pit had originally been, and what it had been designed to capture. Not elves, I was sure, though it certainly was effective. The soil that formed the walls of the pit were too soft to climb, the dirt crumbling beneath my fingers.

“Do you ever fall into your own traps, or just someone else’s?” The quiet voice of Valere broke my focus, and I couldn’t help but clench my fist before I looked up to see him leaning slightly over the edge and looking down. That man really knows how to get on my nerves, but I’m not even sure he realizes that he’s doing it.

“It is old and abandoned. Anyone could have fallen through.” I snapped back, before returning to looking around. Well, climbing the walls was out. And I could not turn to the old stakes to climb upon, they would probably crumble at my touch. The remains of a few were strewn about, half buried by debris. I could see the bones of animals, and I could see the bones of others. A few humans had met their fate here. However, none of them seemed to have anything of use to me, or if they had, it had long ago decayed and was gone. I took a step away from the wall, and my foot unexpectedly went farther down than I expected, causing me to stumble. I looked down and my foot was caught in what seemed to be a ribcage. The bones, covered by soil, I had failed to notice, but they had cracked under the pressure of my foot. When I leant to free myself, however, I found a most curious object. The victim, it seemed, had been holding something close to her heart. A wide leather band was clenched between bone fingers, the material remarkably preserved. I pulled it from her grip for closer inspection. It tied, to be worn around the wrist. Seared onto the material were various symbol, a mystery to me. In the middle of the band, however, was attached a small vial. A single leather strap across the middle held it to the band, though it seemed to fit into a slightly recessed pocket and was secure. The vial glistened a firey orange, though the light shined partially through it, and I could see the movement of some kind of liquid. Not much, perhaps a few drops, but somehow I knew… this was important.

“Would you like some help out?” Valere’s voice reached me again, and I looked up at him shaking my head.
“I can manage just fine on my own, thank you very much.” I huffed. I tied the band around my wrist and unclipped a set of tiger claws from my belt, clawed gloves for climbing. Despite the instability of the soil, I jumped against the wall of the pit and forced it to support me, moving quickly as the dirt crumbled beneath me, rising purely due to stubbornness. I pulled myself to my feet at the top and brushed myself off, not even looking at Valere. Dirt, the ugly creature, was laughing madly, as usual, though it was probably at me this time, rather than at nothing.

“She found something precious… Precious indeed.” I approached Vahen, untying the band as I went, and holding it out for her inspection.

“Can you tell what this is, Vahen Ffian?” I asked. I had no knowledge of such things, but it seemed old and, as Dirt had said, precious, and I thought perhaps she had studied something similar in the past. She took it in her hands and examined it, before looking to me with knowledge in her eyes.

“This vial contains quite a treasure. The tears of a pheonix are said to heal any wound.” She handed the band back, and I tied it back around my wrist, examining the orange vial. An all purpose medicine? Well, that’s just dandy.

Like Shattered Glass...
Valere Belmon

During my return to the troupes camp from my scouting of the wall, I had time to think to myself, time to revel in the Queens darkness. Something one does not get so often when traveling… or accompanied by probably the least graceful hero the elves could offer. The girl has talent, I can award her that but, pour l’amor, she got to the top of the wall and just stood there. She was tasked to accompany me, and despite my requests, she was sent with me. There was one upside to it, however. By using the gifts granted to me to help one in need, perhaps my Queen will grant me a reprise if I displease her. Anyway, on my walk back I found something. Nothing large, nor well visible. It was nothing more than an obstruction beneath the soul of my boot. I stepped back and stooped down to see what it was, but I couldn’t seem to find anything. So I ran my fingers along the ground and found it again. A perfectly round lump under the dirt. My curiosity peaked, rarely did stones come in such a perfect shape without work. The earth was stiff, but moist enough to be parted. It was a rather nice to have found something other than a simple stone. It was a clear glass marble, cracked horribly from what I could see. It took me several minutes to pry the poor trinket from its shallow grave. I was again pleasantly surprised to see that as I lifted it from the dirt was a string of beads that sadly had been severed at the edge of the cord. I held it up to get a better look at the downtrodden necklace and watched as the cracks in the orb glittered and danced as they caught my Queens light from the moon. Such a beauty I thought, a sight I had only seen once before but had not had the time to revel in the lonely glisten of the glass.

I was young… very young. Hardly a moon over twelve. Two years I had been on my own in Managna. The city was still new to me, and I needed money. I was so sure I was the greatest thief in all the world back then, managing to steal bread from a bakers oven, rings from peoples fingers, and even a pair of shoes from a drunken man who had passed out on the streets. I wanted a new challenge, something I had never done before… So I broke into Lord De’leone’s manor. The estate was not hard to get through unnoticed, and it wasn’t all that hard to get into the house either. However, I was not looking for just any trinket to fence… I wanted the Leone blade. A family heirloom passed through the generations of their family. I found it on the third floor of manor, posted in the jaws of a brass lion. I took my time, enjoying the fact that I, a petty homeless thief, was about to steal one of the most valuable items in Managna. I was wrong… I hadn’t even put the sword under my sack cloth cloak yet, and Lord De’Leone himself caught me. I had to run, but had nowhere to go. He approached me with every intent on killing me there, so I took the only way out I could see. Above the Lion statue was a round window, hardly wider than my shoulders now. Forgetting what floor I was on, I took a leap of faith. I broke through quite easily, and found myself plummeting surrounded by shards of glass. The moon was full that night, and the glass sparkled so beautifully in her light. That fall seemed to take several nights, and I knew my end was near. Luckily I landed in one of the estates many thick shrubberies. I took no time to begin running! I didn’t even realize that I had left the sword behind. I was lucky to live… but I hadn’t gotten to enjoy the beauty of the moon, captured in the simple flaws of glass. It’s interesting… The emotions that a simple bauble can conjurer in someone, isn’t it?

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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