Nuwmont 6, 998 AC: Uninvited company

First Quarter Moon (on or about Nuwmont 6, 998AC)

I had just dropped into slumber after my turn at the watch when Sera’s wards vibrated. I had time to rouse myself, and had just laid fingers upon my staff when the campfire roared to life, followed by a shrill shriek.

It was not the voice of anyone from the camp.

Handmaidens of Petra: Descent of the White Witches

Jasna’s cry choked off as the beast man’s great paw clamped over her throat. She kicked, to no avail. Even without its arm extended all the way, her feet came nowhere near to connecting.

“Let her go!”

Brynne launched herself at the brute, but it slapped her away with its other arm, sending her splashing through the mud a good yard away.

Nuwmont 5, 998 AC: Three Axes

First Quarter Moon (on or about Nuwmont 5, 998AC)

With the exception of a steady drizzle of icy rain, Nytdain passed uneventfully. Demarra’s trail cut across the fold in the Black Peaks, rather than following it, so the roadway was clear of rockfall, and we made good time. I sensed some sort of magic at work, not of the Spheres, nor from the lands around, but somehow connected to the road. Demarra simply smiled her knowing and enigmatic smile, patted my cheek, and shrugged before taking a bite of my waybread when I asked her about the nature of the magic she seemed to be working.

Nuwmont 4, 998 AC: A game with Giants

First Waxing Crescent Moon (on or about Nuwmont 4, 998AC)

Every rustle and skitter and flap of night bird wings brought me instantly awake and alert, half expecting to have to somehow channel dragonflame into the earth and away from where it could do me or my companions any harm. It would have been a fool’s errand, anyway, since a dragon such as Ulghfriss would have made the infernos of Verge look like mere candle-flames in comparison to his mighty breath.

Handmaidens of Petra: Escape

The Beast Man roared, sinking its fangs into her neck. She felt it tearing at her arm, felt bones crack under its grip as if they were no more than matchsticks. She had no breath to scream--

Jasna gulped for air, kicking, only to fling her blanket off. The sudden chill raking across her sweat-drenched tunic did more to awaken her than the terror of the dream.

Monsters, monsters everywhere....

You can check the tab above for stats on some of the monsters unique to the Chronicle: The Rock Wolf, Frostreaver, and Fireling from the first arc of Thorn's Chronicle, and the Brute Gnoll, from the adventures of the Guardians of Threshold Company of Maidens Handmaidens of Petra, trapped in Traladara during the Beast Man invasions.

Nuwmont 2-3, 998 AC: Peace edged in silver

It was slower going, picking our way around the other fallen ogre. The trail wound to the north, the ground becoming rockier, and Demarra had to navigate  off the trails around two rockfalls. We had to lever the vardo from a boggy patch, after which most of us were covered in clinging, half-frozen mud past our knees. Once the vardo was freed, it was agreed that we would take a midday meal.

The gray light of the late morning dimmed further, and when it did not immediately brighten again, I glanced up to see just how large the clump of clouds must be. I nearly fell over backwards. It was no cloud at all, but a steadily growing winged, serpentine shape.

Handmaidens of Petra: No heroes

“Perhaps we should begin with introductions,” the tall man said.

“You are Zirchev, called the Huntsman.” Brynne pointed towards the pair outside the Circle. “That is King Halav Red-hair, and his Queen, Petra of Krakatos.”

The Huntsman looked momentarily shocked, then smiled. “King? His queen?” His smile turned into a laugh. “Perhaps it is good that we sit within this circle of silence, lest either of them hear you say that.”

Nuwmont 2-3, 998 AC: Ogres of the Cruth

The air shimmered, about a foot over Silva’s head, and blue-white sparks and splinters showered over us as the ogre’s club smashed into what seemed to be empty air.

Sera stood nearby, hands outstretched, fingers flexed as she held together a weaving of Thought.

Nuwmont 2-3, 998 AC: Cruth Lowlands, continued

I put the twins to work feeding the horses, and busied myself making a similar morning meal for my companions: a gruel of oats and a bit of barley, spiced with cinnamon and sage. Gilliam nearly wept when he saw that Demarra had a store of kaffa beans.

“Thorn, if you do not want the Darra, I will gladly take her off your hands,” he said, counting out the beans and then setting to work with mortar and pestle.

Nuwmont 2-3, 998 AC: Cruth Lowlands

First Waxing Crescent Moon (on or about Nuwmont 2-3, 998AC)

I nearly forgot just how cold mornings were in the mountains. Particularly the mountains of northern Karameikos. Particularly in the tail end of an unusually savage winter from which the lands still recovered.

Our second day on the road was unremarkable. Despite the conditions of the trails, Demarra’s vardo did not falter in the muck. It only took until sundown for Gilliam to give up placing bets with the woman on whether or not the wagon would mire.

Handmaidens of Petra: Halav's Camp, continued...

Jasna dipped another strip of cloth into the boiling water, holding it there, watching it dance amidst the bubbles. She didn’t want to watch Katarin work, although it was somewhat satisfying to hear the girl giving orders to a Traldar queen as if she were some chiurgeon’s fetching boy. 

Nuwmont 1, 998 AC: Cruth Lowlands

Callarii whites. A half dozen of them. I did not ask how Demarra managed to secure them. I was not alone in glancing over a shoulder, expecting to see Prestelle at the head of the Homeguard. Gilliam kept his shoulders hunched, as if expecting at any moment to feel the sting of elven arrows as we rode away from the camp site.

Reblog: The Hinlands

“Fields and farms and forests, the Shire has them all.

A people hale and hardy, just don’t call them small!

Men and orcs and dwarves thought they could come to call.

But hindul showed them sword and fist and boot,

we gave them all quite the brawl!

Under shadows again, our folk will never fall!”

-- an old hin tavern song