All roads point to Sativium

The party just split treasure and is now back at the Honeybee Inn.

Current quests:

1) Lady Mallory letter
- Sativium

2) Witch quest
- Sativium
-Village where Paloma lives (sister)

3) Ghost quest
-find ring

4) Equestrian gang
- Nut-bust the Equestrian gang on our way to Sativium

5) Avarron has a friend in Sativium

loot 3/26/2016

What we found in the vault of Marcellis Drake :
Chainmail +1 – ?
Heavy steel shield +1 – Rocker
24 arrows +1 – party treasure
magic lamp – read the book to find out
1304 silver
403 gold
6 agates stone 10gp

Murder a la Carte, Part I

Murder al la Carte, Part 1

As the shock of Harris Mortimer’s announcement began to wear off, the weariness of intense overnight adventuring crept in. While Ferram and Praezbie retired to their rooms, Serpenthelm and Avarron decided they could spare an hour or so to visit the town square. The bustling market district was abuzz with rumors and questions surrounding the death of Marcellus Drake, and every merchant seemed to be running a special on some sort of Marcellus Drake themed merchandise. Thinking they might come in handy, Serpenthelm purchased five illustrated volumes chronicling some of Drake’s most famous adventures: Marcellus Drake and the Fiery Dragon, Marcellus Drake and the Wizard’s Revenge, Marcellus Drake and the Crucible of Bones, Marcellus Drake and the Bloody Orc King and Marcellus Drake and the Emperor’s Lost Tomb. Their next stop was the armorer’s stall, as Serpenthelm had been finding her current kit quite cumbersome. Although the exceptionally light and strong breastplate she set her sights on was out of her price range, she and Averron were able to persuade the proprietor Ham Whetstone to accept a deal: a steep discount on the armor in exchange for first option to buy armor and weapons they were looking to sell in the future, plus the promotional appearance of the now famous adventurers at his stall on three upcoming festival days. Errands accomplished, the pair headed back to the Honeybead to join their comrades in a well deserved nap.

Eight hours later, the group woke refreshed and assembled in the bar to set out on their next adventure- only to discover that Ferram was no longer among them. It seemed he had received and urgent personal message and rushed out of the inn while the others slept. No one knew where he had gone or when he might return.

Now three, the party followed Harris Mortimer’s instructions and started upon the ancient road to Sativium towards Boar’s Tusk, Marcellus Drake’s famed and mysterious estate. Turning off the main road at the enchanted statue of a skeletal warrior as instructed, the group soon lost their way in the dense underbrush and an encountered the estate’s namesake: a fearsome dire boar! After a brief but intense battle with the ravenous horse-sized creature, the party continued on. A stately mansion soon came into view, as did the somewhat less pleasant sight of a disheveled man patrolling the perimeter with a pack of unruly hounds. This bedraggled apparition turned out to be Warren Jobe, the estate’s groundskeeper. Although he he clearly harbored a deep contempt for outsiders, including our heroes, he let them pass without incident, and they proceeded to the mansion.

They soon found themselves assembled in a stately dining room for the reading of the codicil. Before unsealing the document, Harris Mortimer introduced our heroes to the other interested parties, namely Marecllus’ household staff:

Fazzlemare, the taciturn half-Orc butler.

Boris Cartagian, Marcellus’ suave and stylish valet.

Tobias Entwright, the estate’s fiery chef, subject of considerable local renown for his culinary prowess.

Scarlett Bond, Boar’s Tusk’s modest and charming maid.

The introductions complete, Mortimer sliced through the seal and unfurled the scroll. After a moment of silence, he revealed the shocking contents of the codicile. Marcellus, it turned out, had not simply drowned in his bath. He had purposefully prearranged his own murder- and one of the individuals present was the murderer. Our heroes did indeed stand to inherit the estate, but only if they could prove their worthiness my unmasking the murderer by midnight.

With mere hours remaining before the appointed deadline, the adventurers sprang into action. Their investigation, however, revealed far more than they had bargained for. Ingenious traps and monstrous creature , it seemed, made up a substantial part of the mansion’s contents…

Curse of the Sickled Hand, Part II

Desperate to aid his comrades in their hour of peril, Ferram struck a deal with the mysterious wizard Abernathy the Great: instant transport to his friends’ location in the depths of of the Crippled Skulls’ cavernous lair in exchange for an unspecified favor to be redeemed at the time of the wizard’s choosing. Thus reunited, the party pushed deeper into the warren, cunning traps and monstrous adversaries equally unable to blunt the momentum of their heroic destiny. Through a subterranean jail containing a mad dwarf and and a magic amulet; past a quartet of skeletal marionettes and their goblin master; into a dark temple to a beastly god- our heroes pressed on, fear and doubt as ineffectual against their resolve as steel and magic against their physical armor.

Finally, the adventurers broke through to Vraklin’s inner sanctum. Their skills and bravery were truly tested as they faced not only the necromancer, but the final product of his dark experiments- the hideous abomination known as a sickled corpse. The air grew thick with the deadly shriek of Serpenthelm’s steel and the awesome hum of Avarron’s spells. Ferram’s fists blurred past the point of visibility as Praezbie channeled the full awesome power of his god. In the end, Vraklin lay unconscious on the stone floor beside his lifeless creation.

Emerging from the the warren, the battered and exhausted heroes were met with the startling sight of hundreds of hostile canine eyes. What seemed to be the entire Crippled Skulls clan of coblynau crowded around them, weapons pointed, mouths full of sharp teeth quivering in silent anticipation. Finally, after a seeming eternity, the crowd parted and single figure approached the party. King Rayfuss of the Crippled Skulls thanked the adventurers for liberating his people from Vraklin’s evil influence and demanded that he be turned over to the clan to face justice under their ancient laws. Our heroes had little choice but to comply. They set off on the road the Gafolweed, bearing the damaged sickled hand and the promise of a new era of peace between humans and coblynau.

Arriving in Gafolweed at mid morning, the adventurers were nearly lifted off the ground as a waiting crowd of townsfolk propelled them in a jubilant mass to the Honeybead tavern. The volume of the people’s cheers was rivaled only by the volume of the complimentary apple whiskey poured as the town celebrated their deliverance at the hands of the unlikely band of heroes.

That is, until a hush abruptly fell over the tavern. A distinguished looking gentleman of some years approached the party’s table, the silent respect of the crowd alerting our heroes to his importance. He introduced himself as Harris Mortimer, barrister and representative of the famed adventurer Marcellus Drake, and proceeded to unleash a series of shocking revelations.

Firstly, it seemed, Marcellus Drake was dead, having drowned in his bath the prior evening. A collective gasp arose from the townspeople at the news.

Secondly, Marcellus Drake had named heirs to his massive estate- our heroes, although none of them had ever met the deceased.

“Mind you, not specifically by name, as it is unlikely your paths ever crossed his,” Mortimer clarified. “ His exact words were to leave his worldly goods to ‘those of stout heart and sharp mind that endeavored to be more than the common man.’ Given your recent accomplishments, you seem to fit that description.”

Before the import of the fist two statements had even really registered, Mortimer delivered his third and final piece of improbable news: the inheritance was dependent on the completion of a specific task no later than midnight of that very night. This task was unknown even to him, being detailed in in a sealed codicil to be read at Marcellus’ mansion at dusk.

After giving directions and answering a few questions, Mortimer departed, leaving our stunned heroes to ponder a number of questions:

Who was this Marcellus Drake, and were they really the proper heirs to his estate?

Did this have any connection to their recent adventure with the Coblynau?

And would it ever be possible for them to have a quite drink in a backwoods tavern without destiny dumping a quest their laps?!?!

loot 1/30/16


498.25 in gold to each character
+1 quarterstaff – Inder
Cloak of resistance +1 – Zea
Wand of Magic Missiles – Brian
7 potions of cure light wounds – (3) zea, (3) Inder, (1) Brian
1 potion of invisibility – Inder
scroll: protection from evil – rocker
sickled hand – Zea
signet ring – negate energy drain from sickled hand , +5 damage reduction to any life draining spell or effect – Zea

Heroes of Gafolweed
The Curse of the Sickled Hand, Part I

On the fringe of civilization, bordering a vast and wild wilderness, sits the small rustic settlement of Gafolweed. The human miners and farmers who call Gafolweed home mix with travelers and merchants of many races in the only place to find food, drink, and lodging for miles around- the Honeybead tavern, known far and wide for its house made apple liquor and gregarious dwarven proprietors. It was on a crisp fall evening in this quaint setting that four unlikely companions found themselves sharing the only available table: Praezbie, amorous half-elf cleric in the service of Yuelral; Serpenthelm, wild wandering half-elf barbarian; Ferram Maeror, brusque and lethal Tengu monk; and Avarron, a powerful, spice dealing human sorcerer. This was not to be merely a memorable meal. No sooner had fate brought this group together than it set them a task. Focu Edor, Gafolweed’s cleric of the sun god Phos, burst into the tavern, wailing that he had stumbled upon ghoulish, dog-like creatures despoiling the local cemetery. His normally potent holy powers had failed to stop them, he said, and he was desperately seeking help from any quarter. A cash reward was offered. A few glances and nods of agreement, and the coincidental dinner party became a newly minted band of adventurers.

Following paw-like tracks through the rapidly darkening cemetery, into an ancient crypt, and and through a freshly dug tunnel, our heroes eventually emerged in the pine forest outside of town. After discovering a trap at the mouth of the tunnel, the party came upon those who had set it: the creatures Focu had encountered, as well has a wagon full of freshly unearthed corpses. After a brief but intense battle, a search of the slain creatures revealed a puzzling fact: they were not undead demons at all, but Coblynau, canine featured relatives of Kobolds- cleverly disguised to look like the undead. Soon after, the group discovered a live Coblynau skulking in the forest- a live Coblynau with a missing arm and an incredible story to tell.

His name was Gripk, he said, and he was a noble of the Crippled Skulls, a clan of Coblynau who dwell in warrens beneath the hills southeast of Gafolweed. In recent years, a self-proclaimed necromancer named Vraklin had gained influence in the clan, promising that his dark magic would increase their power and wealth to levels previously undreamt of. Gripk, however, discovered that Vraklin was in reality no necromancer. He had been disguising his followers as the undead in order to awe his own and surrounding clans into submission, all the while plundering the Gafolweed cemetery for fresh corpses to use in his failed infernal experiments. Gripk confronted Vraklin, but had underestimated the false sorcerer’s influence. Vraklin convinced the king to condemn Gripk to death for treason and blasphemy, and he was chained in the pits and left to die. The tenacious Vraklin, however, refused to cooperate with the sentence- he gnawed off his own left hand and escaped! Once free, he disguised himself as one of Vraklin’s undead brood and joined a cemetery raid, planning to break off and flee once they were free of the warrens. Noticing that Vraklin personally accompanied the raiding party, but left them to follow a small footpath once they entered the woods, Vraklin chose to follow him. They soon came upon an ancient tomb, where Gripk observed Vraklin remove strange artifacts and conduct horrific experiments. Terrified, Gripk fled, eventually encountering the adventurers hunting Vraklin’s “undead.” Gripk suggested an alliance against Vraklin, but our heroes, sensing impure motives, disarmed and bound him. Shortly thereafter, Ferram set off towards Gafolweed to warn the locals of the impending danger, while the rest of the party followed the captive Gripk towards the hidden tomb with the intention of foiling Vraklin’s evil plans.

Led by Gripk, the three remaining adventurers arrived at an ancient burial mound. Inside, they found skull-lined burial chambers and dusty corridors- containing several deadly traps and two fearsome animated skeletons! Overcoming both traps and skeletal warriors through a combination of cunning and bravery, our heroes found that they were too late to catch Vraklin. They did not, however, leave the tomb empty handed. Concealed at the base of huge statue of black basalt, they discovered a chamber containing a few small treasures- and a seemingly ancient book of ominous aspect. Bound in black leather, the book’s cracked and weathered pages contained mostly illegible scrawls, unknown runes, and rambling formulae in an unknown language. The decipherable portions of the book seemed to describe the creation of an artifact called the Sickled Hand, a scepter made of a mummified human arm ending in a gruesome claw. The book claimed the Sickled Hand allowed it’s wielder to drain the souls of the living and use them to animate the dead. Further examining the book, the adventurers found a small handwritten note containing a sketch of a skull-shaped ring and instructions never to use the Hand without wearing it. Recognizing the ring as the very same one adorning the base of Gripk’s hook, our heroes unceremoniously detached said hook and pocketed the ring for safekeeping.

Deciding research and rest were required before continuing their quest, the adventurers headed back to Gafolweed. There, they filled Ferram in on the events he had missed. Avarron advised Captain of Arms Dade Toban on improving the town’s meager defenses and bartered some of the arms captured from their adversaries for fresh horses and supplies. Mayor Ros Zergu agreed to put Gripk in a cell. Most significantly, after being appropriately lubricated with a skin or three of wine, librarian Squabilmix dug up some illuminating history regarding the Sickled Hand.

From dusty journals and the townspeople’s memories of their grandparents’ memories the story emerged: Over a century ago, Gafolweed’s sheriff Ashthokar had stumbled upon an accursed burial mound in the notoriously haunted woods outside of town. Discovering within lost secrets of dark magic practiced by mysterious ancient peoples, Ashthokar soon abandoned the pursuit of justice in favor of the unchecked power of necromancy. Even the ghastly power of the Sickled Hand, however, could not save Ashthokar once the people of Gafolweed discovered his wicked schemes. A mob of enraged townsfolk burned his infernal laboratory to the ground, slew his apprentice, and entombed Ashthokar in the same ancient mound that had given rise to his evil sorcery.

Realizing that the contents of Ashtokar’s tomb may well have finally given Vraklin the power he had sought for so long, the adventurers set out at once to find the necromancer’s lair and end once and for all the menace of the abominable Sickled hand. Leaving Ferram to assist with the town’s defense, our protagonists journeyed into the ruddy hills outside of town, eventually arriving at the lair of the Crippled Skulls clan. Journeying deep into the underground warrens, the heroes battled masses of Vraklin’s Coblynau minions before arriving at a vast underground lake, the far shore of which seemed to promise entry to yet more subterranean tunnels. The adventurers commandeered two small boats and set out across the lake, hoping to find a way into the necromancer’s inner sanctum.

Safely back in town, Ferram found a quiet spot and settled in to meditate in the manner of his order. While deep in this transcendental sate, he received a vision: a vision of his comrades’ continuing adventures- and their growing peril.

Arriving at a beach covered in glowing shells, the party encountered their deadliest challenge yet- a massive lake troll, capable of rending flesh and armor alike with its razor-sharp claws. Although Serpenthelm was grievously wounded, Praezbie’s healing powers and Avarron’s timely projection of the lifelike image of a massive dragon eventually turned the tide of battle, and the mighty troll fell. Amongst the horde of shells, a key was discovered. Making camp by the light of the creature’s flaming corpse, our intrepid champions sat to rest and recover, knowing instinctively that even greater danger lay ahead…

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.


I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.