D&D Chronicles 2 – Broken Diamonds and Swords

This is the third post in the new D&D Mythos campaign, in which I’m playing an elven bard… which, I confess, is going to my head a bit.

The song below can be sung to the tune of the Irish folk tune Black Velvet Band. (I’m serious!)

The Broken Diamond Gang

by Sariel Donnodel

It was a morning like any old other
Our Watch band is ordered to leave
A rascal has stolen what he ought not
Our task to pursue and retrieve

Down river we go, then to Bradford
Where rascal has stolen a horse
Although his hostage has got herself free
Our mission’s to follow, of course

Twas the gang of the Broken Diamond
They rampaged and warred on the land
But then they made one last fatal mistake
And now they have made their last stand

The rascal he bears a tattoo
It marks him as part of the gang
They’re all good-for-nothing scoundrels, who
Will die by the sword, or else hang

The main gang’s already been routed
The duke’s men have wielded their blades
The rest are in hiding, we follow the trail
To a riverside farm in a glade


We sneak up and peer through the window
Having bypassed their snoozing guard
While we take position at windows and door
They’re happily playing at cards

Our arrow it flies without warning
And then the door’s bashed in as well
It’s five against five with element of surprise
They’re swearing and bleeding like hell


The whole thing is over quite quickly
With four of them dead on the floor
The fifth guy surrenders and we’re all fine
The rest of the gang is no more

Yes, the whole thing was over quite quickly
Defeated with less than a roar
The Broken Diamond gang is all gone
Of that you can certain be sure


The moral of this little story
Is don’t steal the stuff that’s not yours
Especially if it’s a magical cat
With four furry legs and some claws

Yes, the moral of this little story
Is don’t steal the stuff that’s not yours
It’ll come back to bite you as you deserve
Then you and your gang are no more




I’m humming my latest song about our recent adventures (that is, the ones we can mention in public) as we head to the Watch barracks in Rivermeet. I haven’t shared the song with the others yet… I’m still tweaking the lyrics.

It’s strange to be back in town. I feel as though I’ve changed, even if Rivermeet hasn’t. So much happened in one short week.

I feel invigorated by the successful pursuit of Elmerth Willowit and the retrieval of Espa and those arrows. At the same time, we’ve rid the world of the thieving Broken Diamond gang — or, to be fair, its remnants. (Duke Redblade’s men did, after all, get to them first.) But we are getting better at working as a team and the skirmish at the farmhouse went smoothly. I happily played my role, standing at the window with my bow.

And then there’s the gang’s loot we retrieved — only some of which we handed in to the Watch. Not to mention the gear and gold my northern brethren carried, none of which we turned in.

For the first time in forever my pouch is heavy with coin. But will anyone notice my new armour? The new cloaks worn by Aramil and Brosia? Our new weapons?

I must say I’m particularly enamoured of my new boots. They are the boots of striding and springing — and boy do they ever.


Suddenly, there’s a cry for help and we’re running. It’s just Aramil, Dixxon and me — Brosia and Alec have disappeared god knows where. The cries lead us into an alley and…

Starfuck. It’s a trap. There are seven of them, wielding swords and clubs.

Aramil blows his whistle, but straight away it’s not looking good. With a blade I am no match for these brutes. But I remember my brand new boots and I spring-tumble out of the circle to a distance from which I can use my bow.  Much better. I get a couple of arrows away, but two of the brutes follow me and it’s back to a sword.

I watch helplessly as both Aramil and Dixxon slump to the ground. I can do nothing as I fend off an opponent of my own. Aramil! I need to get to him. He’s my dearest friend in the world.

I hear another whistle and the Watch turns up. Thank the stars. Several of the ruffians are on the ground, but one gathers up the Aramil’s sword with a triumphant cry of “got it!”.

I allow the ruffians to flee, because I am running to Aramil’s side, laying shaking hands on his shallow-breathing chest, singing the healing canticle I’ve only just mastered.

This is the first time I’ve used it on anyone and I pray desperately it works. It takes so cursed long to sing, my voice trembling, but Aramil’s eyes flutter open. Then I do the same for Dixxon, praying I’m not too late.

The Watch unit on duty swirls around us, asking what happened. I say nothing specific about the sword that was taken, but now that Aramil is not in danger, and Dixxon’s also awake, my brain is starting to work again.

I realise it’s not Aramil’s sword they’ve claimed — because he lent his to me — but the one we appropriated from the scoundrel, Sir W, a week or so ago.

This was no random strike. They were after that particular sword, which was no doubt stolen before we ever saw it. I knew we should have handed it in. It was too recognisable, which was the main reason I refused to carry it myself. And now Aramil almost paid the ultimate price.

At least we do not have it now. I return Aramil’s long sword to him.

The Watch Commander addresses us the following morning. His tone is knowing as he mentions that a distinctive sword (a family heirloom, in fact) belonging to the Baron of Black Rock was won by a scoundrel who cheated at cards. A scoundrel whose description bears resemblance to Sir W.

Since the Watch Commander obviously suspects what we did, I am surprised at his leniency. But, instead of a reprimand, we have the whole day free before we are to resume our Watch duties tonight.

I’ve been in this land of the Vanya for only a few weeks and had so many experiences already that the songs are pouring out of me.

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