Scales of War

The mighty Castle Rivenroar

From the journal of Eiravel, Viscount Richardson of Richardland

The Mighty Castle Rivenroar. . .

is apparently nothing but rubble now. Having finally arrived at our destination, we found that the castle itself has been reduced to a mere ruins. The cave described by our cartographically-challenged hobgoblin friend was very real; and it seemed to lead into the very foundation of the castle itself.

Bravely leading the way into the unknown, I found that the cave appeared to be an entrance into a catacombs or sepulchre (I am told this is pronounced “sep-uh-culture”). We quickly smashed our way through a small army of goblins and hobgoblin soldiers before we found more dire threats further in.

Not far inside of this dungeon we had not yet found any of the captives or artifacts but we did find some sort of unholy beasts. Laura called these “magma scorpions.” It would of course be beneath me to observe that that is not the most original name for a scorpion made of fire and rock, so I will refrain. After dispatching these hell-spawn beasts, we found a staff that we gave to Leucis, our wizard. He attempted to describe its inexplicable magic, but I simply found his description to be confusing and poorly worded. Apparently it makes his arcane missile sparkly shooty spell thing better. . . I will never understand these magic types.

Having failed to meet any of our objectives, but having killed a wide variety of crypt fauna, we decided it was time for a well deserved rest just outside the cave.

We attempted to warn Erich that he should not sleep on the ground but should climb into a nearby tree like the rest of us, but apparently his arthritis (or senility) was acting up and he simply slept on the ground. This, not surprisingly to someone as world-wise as myself, attracted a bear.

Leaping into action, Ronin lept from the tree, piercing the bear on the way down. I followed his lead, and only smashed into the ground because the bear had a sudden burst of speed that caused me to miss. Once, I had control of the situation, the bear was quickly put down, but not before it had nearly torn Erich’s arm off. Serves him right for not listening to me.

The excitement of the evening over, most of us returned to rest and recover. Upon waking, I discovered that Ronin had desecrated the body and had stuffed a bloody bear pelt into his bag.

A shame what was done to that noble beast. I was going to have my royal taxidermist stuff him and place him in the great hall of Richardland. Ah well. . .




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