Adventure Journal #1: The Delivery

It was a gray day in a tiny little hamlet when Max, the caravan leader, hired the four extra hands to help guard his shipment for the trip to Fort Laskor. Though he didn't know what the locked chest in the back of his wagon concealed, he knew that Aleanor Pathsteader was paying good money at the other end for its safe delivery...no questions asked.

That told Max that he'd need more strong arms than his two regulars, Ferrik and Sommet. Sadly, the pickings were a little slim in this run-down shantytown. He was lucky to find a gnoll--they made the best mercenaries--and though this Ulveg was a bit on the savage side (even for a gnoll), Max knew he was the pick of the litter, so to speak.

The aasimar seemed another good choice, though as usual for their type, Godefroi styled himself some kind of holy knight, defending the lost honor of the ancient world. Whatever--as long as he could swing that sword, Max didn't care about the aasimar's particular political opinions.

He had to admit that the druid, Zelaran, was another useful addition. The elf seemed a little aloof and antisocial, but he'd be good at spotting ambushes and keeping the wagon ahead of the weather.

The fourth new member of the crew seemed the least suited for this kind of job. Belden Shieldstone, a dwarf, struck Max as awfully twitchy. But beggars couldn't be choosers, and Max needed every hand he could get. After all, he couldn't count on his cat to do much fighting, could he?

So, after throwing a few gold coins at each of the four strangers, Max told Thull the mule-driver to get moving. As the wagon left civilization behind it, Max hoped dearly that this wouldn't be the trip where his luck ran out on him. The last thing he needed was to run into a pack of feral, cannibalistic orcs. A week--ten days at most--that's all he needed. Maybe he'd even be able to retire after this one.

The first day out, the wagon's defenders managed to rout a pack of hungry wild dogs while taking no casualties. Max took that as a good sign, but didn't let his guard down.

A couple days later, the group came across the signs of a battle on the road. Two dead elves lay with crossbow bolts protruding from their bodies and their hearts torn from their chests. Seeing the mutilated bodies, one of the guards spat and muttered, "Orcs," as if it were a curse. Closer inspection revealed that the elves had been ambushed from the tall grass, but that a trio of individuals escaped the ambush, leaving a bloody trail to follow. Zelaran the druid also suggested that the attack might not have been orcs after all, noting that they usually drag off their victims for later consumption.

Max told his mercenaries to check out the trail while they fed and watered the mules. When they returned hours later, they told him a tale of discovering a pair of elves and a lone halfling guarding a wounded elf in a nearby copse of trees. Thanks to diplomatic words from Godefroi and some healing from Zelaran, a tense encounter turned peaceful. The elves could not confirm whether orcs were responsible for the attack, as they had fled immediately upon the ambush.

The next day, a strong windstorm approached just as the wagon reached a burned-out village. Using the ruined buildings for cover, the team managed to avoid the worst of the storm, though a few characters stumbled across a swarm of rats in the process. After the winds died down, a search of the village revealed a crude glyph drawn in blood on a charred wall: a blazing sun, mostly obscured by the moon. This confirmed that the destruction was the work of a local cult known as the Final Eclipse, a group bent on wiping out the last vestiges of civilization in the world. Max had heard fireside stories of the group, but had never seen their handiwork. This couldn't bode well for the rest of the trip, though only a few days remained.

As morning broke, Max rummaged through the back of the wagon in search of breakfast. Though the rations he'd packed should have lasted them well through the trip, only scraps remained. He knew that neither of his regular guards were responsible, but he'd had a bad feeling about the mule-driver Thull. Hired at the same time as the mercenaries, Thull had spent most of the trip sipping his flask and complaining about his bad pay.

At that very moment, Thull wandered around the corner of the wagon, chewing a crust of bread. Max grabbed him by the collar and loudly accused him of stealing food from the wagon. Soon, the rest of the group had gathered round. Though most of the team seemed content to watch the argument unfold, Godefroi managed to pull the two apart, preventing possible bloodshed. Still, Max thought he'd better keep an eye on that Thull.

That evening, as the group started settling down for the night, they heard a loud shout from Max. "Moonlight, where the hell are you going?" Max's cat had darted into the darkness, oblivious of the dangers that might lie outside the campsite. Max asked the group's help in finding his cat, offering a gold coin to whoever brought him back safe.

The characters spread out, attempting to find and follow the cat's trail. Soon enough, they discovered a low cave. Approaching, they heard the cat hissing at some unseen threat. Godefroi, manifesting his celestial heritage, bathed the area in light, which revealed that Moonlight had "cornered" a 300-pound maned creature that appeared as a cross between a hyena and a mountain lion. As the creature noticed the characters, it screeched horribly and flexed its facial muscles, pulling the skin back to reveal the bony structure of its skull!

Terror washed over the group. Some characters broke, fleeing back toward the wagon, while the beast leaped at those who remained. A pitched battle ensued, but together, the wagon's defenders managed to defeat the horrid creature and bring the cat back safe and sound.

Two more days passed uneventfully. Even taking into account the delays they had suffered, Max estimated that they were barely a day from their destination. That night, however, a torrential downpour of bitterly cold rain overtook the wagon. Even with heavy blankets and the shelter of the wagon, a number of the characters were nearly overcome by the elements. Ulveg was even struck by a random bolt of lightning as he perched just a bit too high on a nearby hillside. Thankfully, the healing talents of Zelaran and the diligent attention of the rest of the strangers kept the team alive.

Unfortunately for Max's timetable, the rain had left the road a mass of mud. Together, the mercenaries and the mule hauled the wagon laboriously through ankle-deep muck, turning an hour's travel into a day. That afternoon, of course, it got worse.

Out of nowhere, crossbow bolts flew from underbrush on either side of the road as a voice began an orc war-chant nearby. Max cursed his luck--how could he get so close, only now to fall victim to these damned ravagers? He ordered his mercenaries to spread out and find their attackers, while he hunkered down in the wagon to protect his unknown but precious cargo.

As the four characters moved off the road, they found to their surprise that it was not orcs they faced, but a rag-tag band of brigands. Three humans and a gnoll were led by a gnome, who was apparently inspiring his allies with the deceptive war chant. Despite the ambush, it appeared that the wagon's protectors would soon be able to fend off their enemies.

But then, the second half of the ambush was delivered, as Thull turned on Max and viciously clubbed him in the head. The battle became a war of attrition, as one after another combatants on each side fell to the ground. Eventually, however, the defenders triumphed over the bandits, though at a heavy cost. Ferrik the wagon guard was dead, and the rest of the group bore grievous injuries. Only quick work by some of the mercenaries kept Max and Sommet alive.

Somehow, the surviving characters managed to limp the rest of the way to Fort Laskor, a small walled town nestled in the hills. There, he introduced the mercenaries to Aleanor Pathsteader, the well-respected woman who had hired him to deliver the goods. Upon inspecting the still-sealed chest, Aleanor thanked Max and the other characters for their bravery, instructing her comrade, Felix, to pay each of them a handsome sum in gold coins. (Little did Aleanor or Max realize how close their secret cargo had come to discovery, as during the previous night Belden had passed up an opportunity to try to open the chest and find what lay inside.)

With that, Max dismissed the characters from his service, thanking them personally for their help. Owing the elven druid his very life, Sommet the guard pledged to Zelaran that if he ever needed the crossbowman's help, he had but to ask. Though the characters appreciated the relative safety of the fortified town, they remained only long enough to lick their wounds before moving off once again, in search of adventure in the untamed wilds of Umber.

Next: The Cure