The Story So Far – 2012-01-23

Player Character Role Class Race
Lofton Lorian Controller Wizard Eladrin
Sabin DM
Jason L. Reef Striker Rogue Changeling
Pete Orin Tank/Striker Fighter/Barbarian Mul (half-dwarf)
Michael Kriv Tank Paladin Dragonborn
Perrin Timmels Striker Vampire Pixie
Jason D. Berrian Controller Mage Genasi
Brett Phalanx Leader Warlord Dragonborn
Lance Garo Tank Swordmage Genasi
Aiden Melgar Tank Bugbear
Simon Kerigor Leader Cleric Minotaur

The party mounted up and left Fallcrest, accompanying Sir Oakley and a certain minotaur cleric, named Kerigor, to Winterhaven, which was to be the new base of operations as it was only a half a day’s ride away from the Abbey.

In Winterhaven, Sir Oakley arranged for the party to dine with Lord Paedrag.

After freshening up, the party heads to dinner.

The party is introduced as:

“The Defenders of Harkenwold,
Heroes of the Witchlight Fen,
Slayers of Shadowmire”

At dinner, they learn that orcs have been raiding supply trains and ransacking homes and farms around Winterhaven. Timmels pipes up that he would like to kill all the orcs.

The next morning, the party mounts up and heads for the Abbey.  Nearing the town they come across an orcish corpse, rotting in the ditch.  Timmels confirms that its insignia are a match to the orcs he had followed and to the warlord he slew.  Kerigor and Melgar’s sharp eyes see movement that could be orcs among the buildings, gateway, wall and towers of Gardmore.

Orin inspired the charge as the party approached the wall, heedless of the hail of arrows raining down upon them.  Kerigor and Orin were both slammed backwards by the ogres guarding the gate, stumbling to the ground as the portcullis clanged shut behind them.  Phalanx, Timmels, Kriv and Melgar now face the brutish ogres, and several orcs, inside the keep, while all the others are barred outside.  Berrian’s storm of lightening has slain at least one of the archers on the wall, as he continues his barrage, more will fall.

Backstory – Kerigor the Minotaur Cleric

All minotaurs have a deeply held respect for Baphomet, the Horned King.  He represents raw, bestial power – the fury and savagery of a predator at the moment of the kill.    Many succumb to their dark impulses.  Some, rise above it, their conscience is more developed and through discipline, prayer, or both, they control their inner beast.  Spurned by most civil societies for their terrible appearance, they usually live in distant conclaves, or wander the land in search of adventure.

Thus I found myself in Fallcrest, a wanderer, seeker of adventure.  The Paladin’s order found me first, removing my hooded cloak to reveal the ugly beast hiding there.  They were this close to killing me when an angel appeared, a messenger from the great and mighty Bahamut himself.  The messenger said, “We expect great things from this one.  Lay up your swords and let him live.  Teach him of the Great Master and look past his visage to the strength within.”

I stood up, shaking off my attackers, who fell back, awestruck.  They escorted me to the temple where their Captain told the story.  The elders took me in, training me as they would any acolyte.  I sparred with the Paladins, often 2 at a time.  By size, and strength and ferocity, I was their equal in the practice yard.  But, always, I would struggle with the bloodlust that lay beneath the surface.

I showed some talent with the healing arts, so the miesters helped me focus on channeling those powers.  I am truly blessed by Bahamut to be able to swing my hammer at the foe and lay my hands upon my allies.

A few years ago, I met Sir Oakley.  He immediately recognized my strength and at arms, and soon came to appreciate my other talents as we fought in battle after battle.  He has a hunger, some need in his soul that has yet to be fulfilled.  He searches for something, I know not what.  But he has allowed me to go with him and work for him, developing my power as a warrior and my talent as a cleric.  Last year, I was named a Templar in the Order.  One of many, I know, but a proud distinction nonetheless.

Now, a group of adventurers – none less than the Defenders of Harkenwold and Slayers of Shadowmire, has found their way into Sir Oakley’s plans.  He has asked me to accompany them and keep them well.  Which I shall do, or die trying!

Backstory – Alphazar the Wilden Druid/Shaman

Deep in the Forest, at the Council of the 4 Winds, there is much debate.  Finally, after listening to all the arguments, Jolindarel, the Eldest, rises on withered limbs.  As he reaches his full height of 9’, the whispered shushes ripple down the length of the table rock.  Tattered burgundy leaves hang here and there in the branches that stem from his head and body.  In the winter of his life, his great girth showing his great age, the Eldest speaks in the old tongue, a sound not unlike the whispering winds rustling through the tree tops.  “My fellow councilors, we are faced with challenges throughout the Great Woods and we have much higher priorities than this rogue Wizard in our forest.  Even now we amass an army of tree folk to combat the Burners in the Eastern Wildwood.  To the South, the Leafless are ever expanding their cities and towns and bringing demons, death, and destruction with them.  There, many tree folk die to feed their need for wood and coke.  To the North, the ice demons are also expanding their range bringing winter too soon for the saplings to grow properly.  Much must be done.  Much will be done.  Though, to this matter of the Wizard, Lorameer has made a good argument.  The Wizard is a killer and is working dark magic in the forest, which must not be tolerated.  We cannot spare the strength to deal with him ourselves.  We shall send out some of the older saplings to recruit help from the Leafless.  We may hope that some of these will see the evil this Wizard represents and wish to destroy it.  We may hope.  Oleafshank, Mahindarel, send two of your saplings to the cities of the Leafless that lie to the north and to the west.  The Wizard must be dealt with before the moon turns, and, hopefully, before his dabblings in dark magic cause any further harm to the Forest.”

Backstory – Orin the Mul Fighter

Humans and dwarves have their differences.  Humans are considered to be agile while a strong mental flexibility coupled with a great stature. Dwarves a widely known for their physical resilience and strong endurance.  The two races are common to be seen amongst each other but it is rare for them to come together and bear a child. These children hold the strong qualities of both dwarf and human. They are called Muls. When Orin Frostbane was born, his dwarven father could think of no other name. In dwarven, Or means gem and in means dwarf or people.  Orin’s father and mother couldn’t have been happier to have had a healthy son.

In the small farm village or Mirabor, Orin was one of few boys in his town.  Although his town had many dwarves and humans, he was the only one of his kind. His father would always tell him “Son your mother and I know you are special but always remember that a man is made a man by the actions he takes not what he is. Do not judge a man for what he is. Judge him for who he is.” Orin always remembered that.  Everyone in the town treated Orin as if he was no different and Orin loved growing up there.

The neighboring city ofRaamwas a very large city widely known for its gladiatorial combat and its large merchant district. Of course, with any large city, there are underground gangs and slavery was not uncommon. One of the gangs was led by Elf named Gensal. Gensal was a noble in the community who “sponsored” many young men in the arenas but secretly he was the leader of a slave ring to train men to become gladiators. A band of orcs and goblins did his bidding to train these men into becoming the best of the best. Gensal made his fortunes on winning and for those that didn’t, they were punished within an inch of their lives if not killed.    Balagos

Gensal had many informants around the continent to deliver him news of potential candidates for the arenas. One of his spies and slave leaders, a drow named Balagos, informed him that he had discovered that there was a Mul in one of the neighboring cities. Gensal knew how strong and powerful Muls could become so he sent the order for Balagos and his men to raid the city and capture the Mul.

On a foggy autumn night when Orin was only 11, Balagos and his men snuck into the town ofMiraborinto the Frostbane’s household.  Orin awoke to pandemonium in the house as his father and mother fight valiantly to defend there son but they were no match. Orin was taken with his mother and father laying face down on the floor, looking as if they would never return to see the light of day.

From that point it was a life of training and torture for Orin. Balagos knew that when Muls are pushed to their limit they are able to find something deep down that can brush off any affect that is on them. But Orin was special. After being tortured for so long, his body became able to brush off an affect on him and also found out how to regain some vitality every time he was hit. Balagos was thrilled with this, knowing that he was perfect for gladiatorial combat. Orin was trained hard everyday for years in the art of fighting. Axes, sword, hammers, and practically every weapon they could since each arena battle was based on a different weapon.

Orin was kept with 4 other slaves in a small cell together. He became friends with a Halfling named Nebin. Nebin was a nimble thief who was captured to fight the dagger and crossbow battles. Although neither had yet to fight in an actual battle, they knew they must escape as soon as possible. They had seen others attempt to escape only to be killed in the act of fleeing. Their plan had to be perfect and with Nebin’s quickness and Orin’s strength together they knew they would one day be free.

At the age of 17, Orin was sent to his first battle. This was the first time Orin actually met the man he was “fighting for”. Gensal looked as elegant as any noble, dressed in the finest, but once in the shadows Gensal’s true nature was shown. He grabbed Orin by the hide armor he was dressed and said “If you lose, you die.” From there he went back to his seats in the arena and Orin was sent to the gate to prepare for battle. This battle was a 4 man brawl involving hammers. Orin was very confident in his ability with a particular large mace, the mordenkrad. He came out swinging with all his might and immediately knocked one foe face to the ground. Orin was so overwhelmed with excitement he raised his arms in victory forgetting that there were still 2 other combatants. His glory was soon overcome by pain as his back was struck by 2 morningstars from a human. This knocked the breath completely out of Orin and was completely dazed from the surprise attack. Orin remembered his training, and snapped out of the daze immediately. As he turned to the human, he sees the last combatant, a large Orc heavily equipped with in plate mail swinging a large maul towards his face. He dodged the attack and the orc’s follow through struck the human strait in the face completely knocking him off of his feet. Orin looked at the human to see he was no more. The crowd raged loudly as the Orin and the orc stared each other down. The orc swung again this time with two follow up blows all aimed at Orin’s head. The orc was slow, highly encumbered by the plate armor. Orin could see his blows coming but how could he hit him through the armor? “I know I’m short but it makes it easier to take out the knees. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.” Nebin had told Orin a few days back. Orin saw the opening in the orcs wide swinging attacks and took the lunging swing at his right knee. The orc crippled to the ground, screaming in pain. The crowd chanted and the orchestrator yelled “FINISH HIM!” Orin did what he must and slammed the mordenkrad into the orcs chest. Orin had won his first battle.

Orin was overjoyed that he had won his battle but his happiness did not last long once he returned to his quarters. “You should have won quicker and not gotten hit. You will be punished for your inadequacies” yelled Balagos.  He was promptly whipped and beaten.

Over the next few years, Orin fought 4 more battles, all with different weapons. After each he was promptly beaten for negligence. Nebin and Orin had finally figured out the perfect escape plan. One of the guards always fell asleep on his watch right beside their cell. Nebin had found a way to sneak a dagger back to their cell. Orin reached out and grabbed the guard by the head and slammed him to the ground and Nebin promptly slit his throat. They grabbed the keys and hurried to the battleground where the only exit to the quarters was. Orin grabbed his favored weapons and they ran to the gate. Orin lifted the gate and they slid under. They were free. Orin fled towards the forest when he suddenly realized that Nebin was not beside him. He turned around to see Nebin being held in the air by his throat by Balagos. Orin started to charge back towards them but he was too late. Balagos stabbed Nebin through the temple. Orin saw the guards behind Balagos getting ready to come after him. He knew that trying to save Nebin was a lost cause and Nebin would want him to be free. And with that, Orin ran faster than he ever had before, far beyond the woods and into the depths of the mountains. He had escaped the guards.

Orin hid for a few weeks in the dark caves on the mountains. He wanted to go home to see his family so badly but needed to lay low for a while before he could get back to them. Once he felt he was safe, Orin came back to his home of Mirabor. As he approached to the village, he dropped to his knees. Every house and all the land had been burned to the ground. The smell of burning flesh still lingered in the air even though it was apparent that it had been burned days before. With nothing left of his home, Orin left. He now felt more alone than ever. All that he had ever known was gone and there was only one thing Orin knew how to do well. Fight. He travelled for months taking on bounty hunter jobs and security jobs to pay the bills. He continued to travel from town to town not really knowing but he was looking for but knowing whatever he did he had to be the best. “Judge a man for what he does, not what he is” Orin remembered his father telling him as a boy. Orin knew he was destined for greatness and would not give up until he found his purpose.

For now, his purpose was obtaining a boar for a bet he had made to a bar keep who said he could not do such. He headed into the woods and ran into a changeling who was looking for food. Orin offered the changeling some of the boar if he could help him find one. With that, the two set off into the woods to find the tastiest boar they could. And the adventure begins…

Backstory – Kriv the Dragonborn Paladin

Kriv was born into the rights of a paladin. Born in theTempleofTempusin the small city ofMordue, it was always known he’d be constructed as a divine instrument of war. He was taught from day one that war and battle are a force of nature and is necessary in to shape civilization. It was not only the driving force of his being; they trained him to hold nothing back and to let his rage be the source of his power.

His sister, Sora, was a priestess in the temple and Kriv was sworn to protect her. Although she was very strong herself, he learned special training in order to always be able to guard her from harm. Kriv knew that in order to protect her to the best of his being he must train himself to react quickly and always be able to be there for her at a moments notice.

Sora and Kriv were separated from their parents at a very young age. Having their parents both being battle sworn themselves, they were sent into wars across the land to show their dominance in the art of battle. Kriv and Sora were both raised directly in the temple along with many other that were orphaned by the nature of their god. The orphans were from all races and ages, teaching Sora and Kriv that neither age nor race made one better than the other, only power could show who is the strongest.

Kriv and Sora did not get sent into war until they were 22. A contract for 2 years of many of their strongest warriors and casters was developed for the temple. Although they did not have much experience in the actual war setting, by staying together they were able to be a extremely strong slaughtering force in battle. Standing side by side, Kriv would cleave with his axe as Sora beat them with her Mace while casting spells to keep each other strong. For 2 years the war waged with Kriv and Sora working in and out of the battles to achieve victory.

One day deep in the source of the battle, Kriv and Sora fought strongly to press forward. They were doing fine until a wizard named Demzor took site of Kriv. Demzor casted a spell on Kriv that immobilized him. As Kriv watched, Sora was surrounded as one orc from behind cut her head strait off. Filled with rage, Kriv broke free of the spell and charged the orc and was able to take him out in one clean blow. He rushed as far as he could towards the wizard but could not reach him before he teleported away.

With the battle now over and the contract done, Kriv returned to the temple. He did not morn his sister’s death, instead he used it to make himself stronger. He knew he had done his best to protect her but his best was not enough. After a week back at the temple, he announced that he would be leaving the temple to learn from the experience of battle. War and battle still fueled him and compelled him to worship Tempus but he felt that the he had learned all that he could at the temple and wanted to fight for himself instead of some contracted hire. The head priest wanted him to stay and teach the others but even he knew that Kriv was destined for better things. The priest told Kriv that he understood and Kriv set off for his search for battle.

After a few weeks of travel without fighting, Kriv was getting desperate. Rage and battle were in his veins, he must fight. He decided to look for mercenary jobs not for money but solely for the chance to battle again. As he searched around Fallcrest, he heard reports of theIron Circle’s nefarious activities of Harkenwold being ambushed nightly by goblins and he immediately got excited. He headed strait towards the town in hope that he could finally get himself involved in the action again. After a long journey of boredom, Kriv found exactly what he was looking for.

Backstory – Timmels the Pixie Vampire

I was very young, age 27, when I was turned.  As it happened, I was visiting my cousins in Strongfeather when the Orcs attacked.  Ransacking everything, they killed or captured us all.  The lucky ones died that day.  For the rest, the Orcs held us while the vampire fed.  Some of us died then.  I did not, instead, the vampire left me to become like him.  Cursed this way, he left me when he and his band of Orcs went off to plunder the riches of the Feywild.

I have since found out that the vampire’s name is Kraken.  The Raven Queen sent him into the Fey with one mission:  to destroy some Pixies as revenge for some slight she had suffered at the hands of Lord Corellon.

When the vampire left me, I returned home to Rodrick Hollow.  But as my features changed and the thirst consumed me, my family and friends shunned me.  I struggled against the shadow for 7 years before the sadness and distrust it brought consumed me.  As I was no longer full of whimsy, play, care, laughter and wonder, the Pixies of Rodrick Hollow exiled me.

When I left the village forever, I became a despondent wanderer for years.  After witnessing more of the brutality and savagery of an orc warband, I found purpose.  I now quest for Kraken and the Orcs that destroyed my life.  It’s been 12 years since I was exiled.  Today, I am following a large band of orcs, led by one of the soldiers responsible for the devastation at Strongfeather — Hardtoof.   He is a cruel, vicious warlord now. I have followed them from Winterhaven to the lowlands southeast of Fallcrest, picking off the stragglers and wanderers as I am able.  In the past two days they got very excited and set up camp in a farmhouse after killing the farmer and his family.  Now they are hiding, preparing to ambush some unsuspecting travellers.   I cannot stop them all, but if this turns into a fight, I should be able to bring down one or two of them without drawing much attention.  If the battle goes well, I may even be able to slay Hardtoof, exacting vengeance for that dark day in Strongfeather.

The Story So Far – 2012-01-18

Player Character Role Class Race
Lofton Lorian Controller Wizard Eladrin
Jason Reef Striker Rogue Changeling
Sabin Xaelin Striker Sorcerer Dragonborn
Pete Orin Tank/




Mul (half-dwarf)
Michael Kriv Tank Paladin Dragonborn
Perrin Timmels Striker Vampire Pixie
Jason Berrian Controller Mage Genasi
Brett Phalanx Leader Warlord Dragonborn
Lance Garo Tank Swordmage Genasi
Aiden Melgar Tank   Bugbear


At the end of a heated battle.  22 orcs lay dead.  The party patched their wounds and headed Northwest to Falcrest.





1,000 ea.