The Last Days of Melbrum

Day #1

The Ogre's march part#1

Many of the players arrived in the town of Thris early in the day, seeking out the local tavern first for insider information. Whatever their motivations; gold, renown, answers, or inferiority complexes…they found quite a laundry list of troubles to contend with in town. It all started when a young elven priestess of Pelor by the name of Tara Soulblood wearing a mithral shirt purchased a round of ale for every soul in the bar. When she began to cast a spell however, Zaphir the proprietor demanded she cease her actions immediately or face violent consequence. Despite his intolerance, she warmed many hearts with her purchase and found several friendly faces to converse with. Among them was Firenze Harpsi, a halfling woman specializing in the arcane arts of fire, a brutal looking half orc warrior by the name of Groddic Blackjaw, another elf man of the wilds with a wolf of abnormal size by his side(both uncommon sights in these parts) who went by the name of Dorrandir, and a quiet hooded human man, well armed and armored sitting alone at the bar. He calls himself Bob, also another dwarf besides Zaphir, wearing heavy travelling equipment and a well-made Imperial musket introduced himself as Haskel Quartzheart. He claimed to be from the far mountain Azar clan, a hunetr seeking “larger” game.
To ease the situation…Zaphir the proprietor brought in his exotic dancers, four clearly human, and one a beautiful Nymph by the name of Velna. All however wore ankle irons,Velna’s were gold, limiting thier mobility greatly. A fifth human man, adorned in simple peasants clothes then entered the room playing a lute for the lusty dancers…
After a minute or two of music a sorceror by the name of Crimnox entered the tavern, he too began to play, upon a wooden pan-pipe, and vastly superior to the talents of the tavern slave.
When the proprietor and several others inquired to who he was, he proudly announced himself and shortly after struck up a commisioned contract to preform at the establishment that night. When the hooded human however stood and said " you are no sorceror", a test of talent ensued. Wherein Crimnox blinded everyone within the bar for several short moments. Enraged by the event, the barbarian sitting beside his new elven friends, flew into a beastial outburst where he overturned a table and vaulted a barstool across the room. When his blindness subsided however, Groddic could see the error of his actions and quietly put his head down. Bob on the other hand, regaining his eyesight, threw a gauntleted fist at Crimnox’s face…only his agility spared him. But after the miss, the Prowl family of Orcs sitting at a private table in the corner burst into furious laughter and dubbed Bob “miss-punch”. The humor seemed to loosen the mood and in no time after that everyone was sharing drinks and talking of Ogres.
…Hwrothrim Prowl, father to the three adult half orcs accompanying him unexpectadly supported Zaphir when the preistess of Pelor again attempted to cast a spell when the barkeep slipped Groddic “the best booze in the house”. Despite having earleir being paid 10 GOLD, and assuring Tara she could “cast whatever she wanted”, Zaphir was quite irritated with THIS spell attempt. For clearly some darker intention would have been uncovered had Tara succeeded. A chain of “I’m your man occurred” to the point where almost the whole bar was involved and things quickly could have spiralled out of hand. But they didnt, and the PCs left with the Prowl family putting greivances aside when Zaphir demanded the priestess and her supporters leave. Again the talk returned to Ogres, and the now sickly Groddic.
Arriving at the Orcs camp, just north outside of town, Tara was capable of determining the weak presence of necromancy magic subsiding in her new orc friends belly. Aware of the treachery and clear breach in magical legislation many in the party chose to return to the tavern to give Zaphir a piece of their minds…but not until Groddic was tended to by the Prowl clan’s Wood’s witch Vlagya. A venerable peverse orc crone, who demanded only that Groddic enter her tent and she would destroy the evil within him…
No other soul entered the tent, but many whispers occured and assumptions were made by all after an hour had passed.
Bob, Tara, Firenze, Groddic, and Crimnox all returned to the tavern after Groddic emerged from the tent…only to find the doors locked and windows shuttered and bolted from within. When hammering the door did nothing the PCs began to shout loudly to draw attention. At that the door swung outward and a man all in full plate and helm towered within the frame. When no entry or answers seemed avaiable, the PCs forced entry by utilizing a zone of truth and alerting the guardsman to his folly of answering where Zaphir was. THERE WAS A FIRE FIGHT!!!!! as the PCs filed through the doorway, they found themselves bombarded by crossbowmen positioned behind the bar and across the stairwell bannister. Needless to say, great heros made short work of such cowards. And when the bloodshed had ended only one stood alive. All others had their throats slit or were burnt alive. The one surviving spilled his guts and life story hoping for mercy and the PCs uncovered the first link in an illegal smuggling ring of onyx merchants. When they had what they needed, the captive too was killed, mercilfully…



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