October 8th, 2008

Bimfoodle

D&D

Our young heroes are still on their way back to Southshore. On their way up the mountain to Steelhome, Fabi was rather grumpy and he started to play an irritating song. Ulfgar hit him in the back of the head with a snowball, but when Fabi turned around to look, Paythan was pointing at Yng. "He did it!" Suddenly, something else was throwing snowballs at them; they were being attacked by living snow. But these creatures were no match for them. 

The evening was spent in Steelhome, in a quiet and dark inn. The next morning the heroes found an easy and fast way down the mountain to Menethil; they would volunteer to test the cable car that had been recently built. The overseer was happy to receiev them as test subjects... euh... volunteers, and offered them 2 gold if they would ride the cable car down and tell his brother in Menethil what the ride was like.

The cable car was clearly not yet ready to carry the weight of five people and their luggage; halfy down, the car started to hit the treetops and it kept etting worse and worse. At the foot of the mountain, the cable car would go over the river before reaching the platform near the harbor, but with all this weight, the car hit the water. The heroes jumped out to safety; Yng and Paythan dove into the water and swam to the shore, Ulfgar did an impression of a millstone and made his way to the shore over the bottom of the river, Melvin gently let himself into the water from the car and got his periscope out of his bag, and Fabi tried to jump from the car onto the platform, keeping his clothes dry but making a rather painful landing.

Now our heroes are on the ferry from Menethil to Southshore. What adventures will they find in Southshore? Find out in two weeks.
  • Current Mood: calm calm
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Larp

Omen 6

Much has happened in these past few days. After we had one day of rest to mourn for Eltha'rin, our wardancers arrived to support us in battle, Galadhon and Avan'il. The village was far from quiet, and who could blame the humans for being panicked with the undead army approaching?

Luthine came to our camp, asking to join us. In a vision she had seen how her own tribe was wiped out by the undead. We spent some quiet hours mourning with her and accepted her into our small group.

I've met some interesting people in the village, Kronin's friend Quel'zar, a priest called Jacq Lemorte and a friendly merchant. Though many wood elves are wary of humans and high elves, I think I may have made some friends.

But that was during the quiet hours. The rest of the time was spent in battle. Or in my case, tending to the wounded. Lady Aimee is ill, and it does no good for her temper and her attitude, which were bad even before she became ill. I will never understand this notion of nobility, which causes some humans to think that they are better than others. The way Lady Aimee treats people is not becoming, nor for a lady, nor for a healer. Quiet as I am, even I had trouble getting along with her, shortly after Nessa had lost her patience with her. And I'm afraid that curing the illness will not engender any thanks or apologies.

The battles were long and rough. When we made our last stand at the village, Galadhon and Avan'il requested my help to perform the liltha auth, the holy dance of war. With my help, they went into trance and they danced over the undead enemies, but there were simply too many of them. I had to go back to take care of the wounded, and when I saw our dancers again, they were broken and dead.

There is no time to mourn, not for our dancers, not for the captain, not for any of our unfortunate losses. General Renard has ordered that we flee the village and rally in the northwest. A mysterious mage is leading us to a safe place. We are now scouting the way in front of a caravan of refugees. The villagers have abandoned everything; the caravan contains one cart and on it are a tent and Lady Aimee's coffers of clothes.

There is no time to mourn and no time to rest. War is all around us and the undead armies are closing in.
  • Current Mood: sad sad
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