D&D Chronicles: Zillah becomes a sell-sword with dire consequence


D&D CHRONICLESWell, that’s one weight off my mind. We’re finally free of the left Eye of Varrien. We gave it up to the Church of Elloran for the paltry sum of 20 gold pieces. I suspect that the priest ensorcelled Calwyn and Alix into handing it over for about a quarter what we might have got for it. Not that it’s even possible to put a value on such a thing… but we really needed the funds to equip ourselves for our next expedition. In this city, 20 gold pieces doesn’t go very far.

We will certainly seek the right Eye as we have pledged. The priest of Elloran has given us a map showing the location of the lost city of Tel Marrenor, deep in the heart of a cursed forest a long way to the south. They say the forest is ‘alive’ and ‘evil’. How can a forest be evil? I shudder to think about what dark forces may be at work there. No-one has heard anything out of Tel Marrenor for 25 years. But, since the right Eye is supposedly there, that is our road.

Eventually. The church of Elloran will grant us some minor aid, but they will not equip us. Well, I say they can keep the paltry 50 gold pieces they’ve offered if we manage to retrieve the right Eye. They must think us fools.

So we are first going to join that fellow Diegos from the Woe Betide tavern on the job he proposed. We need a lot more gold than we’ve currently got to survive this place. Supposedly the Barron of Ritten, somewhere north of here, will pay us 3 gold pieces each for a successful mission. Apparently there’s an ‘evil red eye’ there as well. Coincidence?

So… it seems I have become a sell-sword. Whatever it takes, I guess, to accomplish our mission.

At least we have managed to provision ourselves from the gold the priest did give us. Best of all, I have acquired a dog. I passed by several market stalls selling animals before Ash and I found each other. He is a husky, fully grown but still young. I know we will be great friends.

The village at the edge of the Vale

The woman causing all the trouble is called Erivar. We’ve travelled three days north from Port Rabat and then east to arrive in a tiny village nestled at the edge of the Vale. They are so terrified of the woman they have built a palisade to protect themselves.

Apparently she came around six months ago, promising great bounty to the Vale, but in reality the crops have all failed and the animals are dying. No-one has seen Erivar since she crossed into the Vale, but word of the desolation she’s wrought has reached this village. We’ve heard she carries a red gem the size of her fist, which she talks to… I think she must be mad.

Last night we stayed in Ritten, where the baron upheld Diegos’s agreement to pay us three gold pieces each if we managed to get rid of this woman. Diegos did not accompany us past Ritten, however. A shame, since on the road from Port Rabat he proved a good, capable companion. I think he would be useful in a fight.

We could no doubt have used his aid tomorrow…

Disaster in the citadel

Sometimes I think I should have just stayed alone in the northern wilderness. At least I know how to handle bears and wolves and all the other wild things. Since joining this party, I have seen too many things I do not understand, nor could ever hope to. And now my ignorance has led to the death of my cousin.

Ai, Schill! How am I going to tell your family what happened? How am I going to tell them it might have been my blade that struck the fatal blow? They will have no comprehension of the acidic slime creature that attacked you — I barely have words for it myself…

We are deep in this cursed Vale, inside a mysterious citadel wedged into the side of a cliff above a deserted village. There was a portcullis and murder holes with flaming oil, but we have seen few signs of life so far. Just some giant rats, rapidly dispatched before Calwyn could so much as scream.

And then we came here, to this weird bathing chamber. Where there was a skeleton with some magical bling in a sunken bath. Where there was also an unseen acidic slime creature.

I don’t know what we should have done differently. Could we have seen the creature (if it was even a creature) had we looked? Would we have known what it was? I’ll never know.

All I do know is that my cousin Schill clambered down into the bath and came back covered in slime that was killing him. We attacked it, but every blow we dealt it, dealt damage to Schill also… A wretched day.

But we have a job to do, and Schill will have given his life in vain if we don’t succeed. So we push on for the moment and hope to discover a means of bringing my cousin back before it’s too late. I will not give him up so easily.

Erm, yes. Zillah is very distressed. Poor Schill. but I’m not declaring him killed dead just yet…

I feel pretty bad I didn’t realise our attacks were dealing damage to a fellow party member (I’m blaming the wine), but it has got me wondering as to whether this could have been made clearer by the DM. After all, if it was a real life situation, we’d have been able to see exactly what was what — how much of a risk to use a sword, whether a dagger would be better, and whether we were inadvertently hacking our friend to pieces instead of saving them.

On the other hand, perhaps it was just the wine.

More D&D Chronicles.

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