Here we are, it’s time for yet another episode of Dorngeons and Dorgans. Honestly, I probably don’t need to do these little intro bits, you guys surely know what’s going on by now, and if you don’t well…you’ll figure it out. Here we go “Fetch Quests for Days” Dorngeons and Dorgans Part 5.
After a long and well-deserved rest from their previous adventure the group decided to get back out there and do some more questin’. Well, everyone except for Elephant. See one of the downfalls of being a mentally unstable hobbit who thinks he’s an Elephant is an intense drug addiction. After trying and failing to hit on the inn keeper’s wife for the 8th time Elephant began his signature downward spiral. I’m not going to get into too many details because it is pretty graphic. Does it still count as beastiality if the man thinks he’s an elephant?
Needless to say Atlas, Cinnamon, and Carlos were in a rush to get away from Elephant. After picking up some more supplies they hoped on their horses and set out for Conyberry. They had been sent there Sister Garaele, the woman in charge of the local shrine. Legend tells of an evil spirit that haunts Conyberry by the name of Agatha. As the story goes Agatha is extremely vain and has a habit of brutally murdering unwitting adventurers who happen to be taken aback by her ghastly appearance. But supposedly she also knows the location of a powerful spell book so…you know…an adventurer’s gotta do what an adventurer’s gotta do.
After a relaxing 6 hours on the trail the group awoke from their daydreams to see a pack 6 of orcs 200 yards ahead. It was hard to tell what they were doing from this distance, but when dealing with orcs it’s best not to dwell on those sort of things. Quickly and silently the group dismounted form their horses. Crouching behind a bush, they came up with a plan. And boy what a good plan it was. Atlas pulled out his grappling hook (did I forget to tell you he has a grappling hook?) and threw it into a nearby tree. Once safely perched atop a sturdy branch he grabbed three of the oil vials he had purchased in town and threw them into the ground.
Cinnamon was just a tiny bit jealous of Atlas, that was pretty badass. Cinnamon didn’t like being shown up. So he decided to climb his own tree. There was just one problem, he didn’t have a grappling hook, much less rope. But he’s Cindarian, his people are world renown for their agility. Cinnamon backed up a little bit, then sprint headlong into the tree next to Atlas’. Unfortunately the branches were just a tad to high and Cinnamon fell. It was quite embarrassing, so he decided to try again. It didn’t go very well. A few cuts and bruises later and Cinnamon gave up. And so he and Carlos took cover on either side of Atlas’ oil slick, ready to ambush the orcs when they stepped on it.
With everyone in place Atlas blew into his signal whistle. The orcs began walking towards the trap. After a surprisingly long time waiting, the lead orc stepped in the oil slick. Bursting from his cover, Cinnamon cast the best fireball he ever cast…and missed the orcs. But he ignited the oil which then proceeded to ignite the orcs. Carlos too charged forward landing some solid blows on the orcs. From his perch above Atlas fired two arrows, killing two of the orcs.
After some struggling the four remaining orcs managed to put themselves out, and they were not happy. Cinnamon took some nasty blows, and so he retreated to heal himself in a corner. One of the orcs threw a javelin at Atlas, knocking him from the tree stunning him. That left four orcs versus one Carlos. As strong as Carlos was he was quickly overpowered. He was lucky though, the orcs decided to knock him out rather than decapitate him right then and there. The four orcs then set out for Cinnamon, it didn’t take long for them to find him squatting in a corner casting healing hand on himself. They knocked him out fast.
Meanwhile Atlas awoke from his fall. He opened his eyes to see Carlos laying next to him unconscious, and the orcs surrounding Cinnamon. Critically wounded, he slowly rose to his feet. He could hear one of the orcs say, “search the area for more brigands!” Luckily his legs weren’t badly injured in there fall. He managed to run a good ways and hide behind a tree.
From a distance he could hear another orc say, “Oi, where’d the Teifling go?! I be hungry for Teif-flesh. FIND HIM!”
Not the kind of thing you want to hear. For a moment a particularly heinous thought crossed Atlas’ mind. He thought about drinking his healing potion and just running, just running away from all this non-sense. Surely he could adventure just fine on his own. But then he remembered his friends, and he knew that there was no way he could leave them. He needed to get to Cinnamon, he was the only one with healing spells. But there were four orcs between him and Cinnamon, and he was in no condition to fight. It was then that Atlas remembered: he still had more oil vials.
Atlas crafted a fire arrow from some oil and some cloth from his tunic. He then made another oil slick, and once again used his signal whistle to bait the orcs. When the orcs came near he fired the fire arrow once again igniting the orcs. He then ran from cover to cover firing volley after volley, until finally…the orcs were dead. As the last orc fell limp to the ground, Atlas gave out a sigh of relief. That was about as close to death as he ever wanted to come. He quickly ran to Cinnamon. Atlas poured his healing potion into Cinnamon’s mouth, moments later Cinnamon woke with a pained moan. The two then went to Carlos to heal him.
Sitting up Carlos asked,”How did we survive that?”
“I’m just that amazing” replied Atlas.
The group certainly had enough for one day. After searching the orcs for loot, they set up camp. They spent the remainder of the night resting and healing their wounds. By morning they had regained most of their strength and resumed their trek to Conyberry. After a few hours later they came upon the ruined village. It looked like it might have been beautiful back in the day. ruined shops lined the sides of the road. The area to the north was littered with the remains of quaint little cottages. The Sword Mountains rose high over the land to the south. After some time admiring what was the group turned north and continued along a much smaller trail the lead into the woods. Their surroundings went for charming to unsettling at a rapid pace. The further they went the creepier the trail became. The trees were jagged and overgrown. Barbed shrubs lined the sides of the trail. The trees blocked out all light except for an eerie glow.
Eventually they came upon a very strange structure. The roots of all the nearby plants had combined into a large dome. It looked to be the work of a druid, the dome was almost too perfect. The structure appeared to be impermeable except for a hole at its base about the size of a hobbit.
“Well this must be it,” said Carlos trying to hide the apprehension in his voice.
One-by-one they crawled into the hole. The structure seemed much larger on the inside. It was enough for all of the group members to stand comfortably, with plenty of room for activities. Just as they were remarking on the size of the dwelling, she appeared: a ghost in all her glory. No one in the group was particularly familiar with ghosts, so they were all a tad surprised when they saw her. She wasn’t transparent, she wasn’t especially white, and, though she was floating, it wasn’t in like, a ghosty way. For the most part she looked like some woman, but something about her appearance seemed unmistakably…deceased.
“Have you come to offer tribute” she asked in that classic ghost voice.
Looking at the others Carlos said, “I’ll handle this.” Turning to Agatha he said, “Greetings mighty spirit we have come in search of a book. Might you give it to us and we shall be on our way.”
She did not like this at all. “RAIDERS! Be gone! Thou can’st invade mine home and steal mine goods!”
Atlas quickly interjected. “Hey baby, it’s all good. We’re not here to steal from you. We just came to admire your might…and um…beauty.”
“You think I’m pretty?”
“You are certainly the most beautiful wraith I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, I like you. I know many things, and I know that you seek many things. Ask one question, to which I will give the answer.”
Carlos tried to jump in, “can you tell us where your spel-”
Once again he was interrupted by Atlas. “We seek Bowgentle’s Spellbook, might you know where we could find it.”
“Oh that old thing. Yeah I used to have it, but I sold it to some merchant.”
“Really?! All that for nothing?!” exclaimed Carlos.
Turning towards him Atlas said, “Dude be quiet.” Turning back to Agatha, “We thank you immensely for your time, you have been a most gracious and lovely host. We shall now leave you to your business.”
The trio slowly backed out of the room. As they did Agatha slowly disappeared. It was a bit disappointing, but they had what they needed. Sister Garaele only really asked for information. Back outside the group decided to head to Old Owl Well. They couldn’t remember who, but someone in town had told them of some strange dealings going on there. It was near Conyberry so they figured they’d swing by. The trek was largely uneventful, if a bit more mountainous than they had envisioned. They didn’t encounter any orcs, but Cinnamon did get a pretty nasty blister on his ankle.
Old Owl Well is an old, and poorly named watch tower. Upon arriving at the tower the group immediately commented on its oldness and its towerness. They stopped by some ruins near the tower and dismounted. As they were gathering their equipment they heard a distinct moan. Walking around one of the ruins walls they came upon three zombies.
“Alright it’s just three zombies, no biggie,” Said Carlos.
The moment the words left Carlos’ mouth 18 zombies began crawling through/over/around various cracks and crevices in the ruins. The group engaged the first three. They dealt some major damage, but the zombies were heartier than they had anticipated. Soon they were surrounded. The trio stood back to back to back as the zombies began closing in.
Suddenly they heard a man shouting. The zombies all stood down.
“What is the meaning of this” the man asked.
He was a tall bald man with a large circular tattoo on his forehead. Carlos recognized this as the symbol for the school of necromancy, which made sense given all the zombies.
Carlos responded, “Greetings, we were just passing through when we noticed this tower and thought we’d check it out. We thought there might be loot.”
“Well there’s not. You boys have stumbled upon a very sensitive site.”
“We mean no harm honestly, we are humble adventurers.”
“Adventurers, eh? If you guys are looking for loot I suggest you head to Wyrven Tor, there’s some orcs up there who are sure to have some good loot.”
Carlos prided him on his insightfulness. He felt as though something was wrong. This mysterious man appeared to have some ulterior motives. Had they not already been given this quest eh probably would have been more suspicious. “Thanks for the information, we’ll head there and check it out.”
“Oh and if you’re ever in Conyberry, look for a wraith by the name of Agatha. If you find her ask her who built this tower, it would certainly help with my studies.”
Cinnamon said, “but w-” before he was stopped by Carlos.
“We’d love to. We’ll get out of your hair now.”
The trio quickly returned to their horses and set out for Wyrven Tor.
But that’s a story for another day. Tune in next time to hear how badly the group gets their ass kicked by another pack of orcs.