Legends of Moonsong City

One Prong Was Always Ready

Axiomus sat slumped staring at the object. Voices of his comrades celebrating their survival trickled in through the cracks. Drinking and celebrating? He had no time for that.

The four-pronged metal spike was perfect. No matter how it came to rest, one prong was always ready. It was small but Axiomus knew better. It was always the small things that counted.

Having Stoneskin before fighting Troll (“CrapTroll”).
Training for years to swim in armor.
Quaffing potions before an ambush.

Not pissing off a centuries old necromancer.
Not melee fighting an undead dragon.

Small things.

Axiomus’ mind was raw and empty. He had used up all his energies.
He reached out and pricked his finger on the prong of the caltrop.
The pain, the pain!

Time to prepare.
Time to be always ready.

Rise of the Dread Lady Niln

The Dread Lady Niln has been encountered and she nearly killed off a party member who got a little too close to her zombie dragon.

XP for last night:

Londell the Unfinished: 4800xp
Skeletal Warriors (x5) : 3000xp
Skeletal Archers (x2) : 600xp
Skeletal Mage (x1) : 1600xp

10000xp by 8 players = 1250xp

All: +200xp Almost everyone’s bloody but survived bonus (Lyra!)
Haloisi : +50xp bonus song we all liked.

Treasure you all talked about in the open:

2 Rubies (100gp ea)
1 Golden ring (500gp ea)
Cloak of displacement, minor (Went to Fletcher as I recall)
Ring of protection +1 (in contention, I don’t know that I followed where it went. Still in Haloisi’s possession)
Heavy Mace +2
Half Plate +2

Honoring the Dead

Darin’s chief of staff, Justin looks ashen at the command to ride.

“m’Lord, it’s a trap.” He whispers into his friend and commander’s ear. “She’s surely planning something.”

Darin nods slowly. “Of course she is. But she spoke of honor. I have to at least try to retrieve our kin, do we not? I’ll take a small force only, your orders are to hold the fortress.”

Understanding his commander’s duty, Justin tried one more plea. “Let me go Darin. I’m better equipped to deal with an unholy threat such as this.”

Darin looked off into the gathering dusk. “That’s why we need you safe my friend. Have your acolytes bring potions of negative energy protection. That should give us at least some measure of protection. I’m set on this Justin. It must be done.”

An Honorable Arrangement

Across the battlements of Guss’s Gate, the dwarves were in high spirits. The new champions were surely sent by Moradin himself. They had repulsed the undead giants, liberated the river crossing and the holy font below. They were truly heroes.

As the sun slowly moved towards the horizon, a lone figure was sighted approaching the gates. He moved slower than a gnoll, but his feet were heavy and he approached in a cloud of dust. Finally arriving just out of arrow shot, he stopped. The dust slowly settled, and the uneasiness that had started turned more to horror. A call of alarm was raised for Darin to come to the battlements. Out among the dust and growing darkness stood a single dwarf. Or least what had once been one. His eyes gleamed with a unnatural madness and he had saluted the dwarven commander as he took to a tower to look up.

“The Dread Lady Niln congratulates you on your victory this day. As she is not without some measure of honor, she requests that you ride out and gather your dead. She offers this parley for a few hours so that you might recover those who fought valiantly for your fortress and kin. Come morning, she intends to be your enemy once more.”

With that spoken, there was a shudder and whatever unnatural spirit had possessed this poor dead dwarf and had forced him to march here left him to drop to the ground as if he had just been a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“Gather some men and some carts. I will go with them to make sure she keeps her ‘honorable’ bargain. " Darin commanded. “And fetch me the heroes. If they would march with me, we may be able to have her keep her word. She’s surely heard of them by now.”

Lady Charity to the Rescue!

While sitting in the Drunken Priest hearing all sorts of rumors about farms being attacked by goblins lead by an ogre, river water and bath water boiling people alive, and cats being slaughtered, the Lady Charity came to the Drunken Priest looking to prove her worth to her father by hiring and leading a group of adventurers to come to the village of Kirin’s rescue. She found…

  • Arabella, a brash human wizard
  • Arnie, a giant human monk possessing an incredible strength
  • Kihlgarrah, a human barbarian with a massive sword
  • Milo Ambergrass, a halfing paladin, skilled with the bow
  • Narni, a half elf oracle, haunted by malevolent spirits
  • Tifa, a halfing rogue

The contract stated that she would pay each of them according to a fair wage they negotiated ahead of time, and that Lady Charity would keep the treasure that they might extract from their adventures.

They set off to the village where they were treated as saviors. For they had come to solve the undead plague that had been harassing the village. They were treated to all sorts of stories about the prison that had burned down twenty years ago, like that of Titus the Hammerer.

Lady Charity insisted on an attack at night. “How better to hunt your prey than during their activity cycle?” she said. Arabella was unconvinced this was a good plan. Turns out she was right as a group of six zombies nearly slaughtered the party. Arnie and Kihgarrah fell to the surprisingly fast and strong zombies. Only through the magical mastery of Arabella, the desperate healing of Narni and the quick blades and bows of the halfings did the party prevail.

Lady Charity sat there for most of the battle nervously clutching her fancy long sword. Her only real value was that she had two potions of cure light wounds that the party used to revive their fallen companions. Desperately low on health, they retreated.

After a few days in Kirin, they were ready to strike out again. This time, Lady Charity was much more willing to let the adventurers suggest tactics.

They investigated a second time and this time found a pair of zombies digging up corpses, presumably for more fell rites. The battle was joined a second time, this time to a much more agreeable end, as one of the zombies ran off while the second engaged in combat with the group.

Arnie ran off to chase down the fleeing zombie, but his investigation lead to a sighting of two more zombies, two skeletal archers, and a man waving a hammer. After a brief contact, where the man with the hammer froze our barbarian in place with a Hold Person spell, the cleric withdrew giving orders for his minions to bring the remains to him later.

After a close battle with the skeletons and zombies, Arnie and Kihlgarrah were again very badly wounded. They discovered that each of the zombies wore a brand that looked very similar to a symbol of the god Erathis, but defiled and ruined. Here, the party choose to make another tactical change. Lady Charity gave up her chain shirt to Kihlgarrrah and the halfings took lead as they descended into the tunnel dug into the moss covered ruins of the old prison.

Light came to be a problem, as neither the halfings nor the humans had eyes well suited for the dark. Torches lit, the group tentatively descended. They dispatched the first zombie guard, and moved into a section of the old prison that had held the prisoners. Here the shackled remains of the prisoners had been left to burn or starve when the old prison had burnt above. It unnerved the group, particular when all of the bones still changed to the wall shook briefly. Arnie set to breaking into the cells and crushing all of the unfortunate remains of the prisoners long since dead. The noise attracted some additional zombies, but when they didn’t attack as a group, the party found them much easier to handle.

Deep within one of the cell blocks, Tifa discovered a secret door, and a study that had laid undisturbed since the prison had burnt. Within the study, she liberated a Dagger +1, a spell book, and some coin. She secreted the dagger so as to not arose Lady Charity’s suspicion that they had found something.

Venturing deeper into the abandoned prison, they found an area recently transformed in a shrine to Erathis with the cleric from earlier conversing with some far away being in a language that seemed to Arabella to be similar to Infernal. The battle was hard fought, with both Lady Charity and Narni dropping as the cleric channeled negative energy that would both heal his undead minions and damage the party. But victory was secured, and Tifa was quick to recover the magical warhammer +1, chain mail, shield, and belt pouches that the cleric carried. The equipment was turned over to Lady Charity (was all of it….?) and the party left the prison victorious.

Back in the village of Kirin, they revived Lady Charity. She asked them not to speak of killing a cleric of Erathis, as surely that would put some investigation into why a cleric of a holy god would be working with the undead. The party was happy to agree and wished to be paid, which she did. She decided that she would now need to find some religious scholars to bring them back and discover what exactly was going on here.


4 skeletal archers (135*4=540xp)
13 zombies (200*13=2600xp)
Cleric of Earthis (600xp)

Total xp 3740xp divided by 6 = 624xp each.

Knights and Pawns

Lyra sighed and surveyed the hopeless situation before her. Valiant knights lay slain on the sides of the battlefield. An outlying tower had been toppled, its defending forces dead and thrown to the wayside. Even the clergy had gotten involved, but the warrior priests had been shorn from the mortal coil for an early meeting with their deity. The enemy’s army loomed ever more menacing in comparison to the dwindling forces of good. The battlefield was a grisly reminder of fragile mortality and the brevity of life.

“Hah!” Lyra exclaimed, slamming an exquisitely carved ivory rook into place. The heavy chess pieces jostled on the hewn stone chessboard. “Check!” she nearly shouted with a smile.

The dwarf, whose name Lyra had already forgotten, grinned wryly beneath his beard. He casually tipped over Lyra’s last remaining rook with an ornate bishop carved of a slightly darker ivory than her own pieces. “Not anymore, it’s not. And ’mate.”

“I—” Lyra started, speechless at the cunning move. The soldier had thwarted her attack and won in the same turn, all while eating his breakfast. She sighed again and resigned herself to defeat. Lyra hadn’t yet won a game with this wretched chess set that she bargained off of Haloisi. These sorts of nick-nacks were far more interesting to the young sorcerer than lost books or uncovered knowledge. She almost regretted the deal.

“Again” Lyra said adamantly, resetting the board. She would need to try a different tactic. “So have you heard about The Swordsman of Moonsong? The fight at the wellspring got to test the full measure of his skill.” she said nonchalantly. “I was there, you know.”

Her opponent looked up from the opening turns of pawn movements and arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued at the mention of Fletcher’s made-up title. The soldiers of Guss’s Gate were quite enamored with the half-elven mercenary. He had made fast friends with the militaristic dwarves with a few quick words and even quicker sword strikes.

“It was one Hell of a fight.” Lyra began as she returned the series of opening moves. “So, there we were, trying to make our way to the wellspring beneath the fort,” she said, hoping to match the dwarven soldier’s careful positioning with sheer randomness in her own first moves. “Darin prepped us on the layout ahead of time. Good thing too, or else we would have fallen right into a trap. We could see the enemy’s leader, Pete something or other, down at the end of the hall.” Lyra looked pointedly at the opponent’s king, an elaborately carved figure standing head and shoulders taller than the rest, complete with armor, sword, and a crown. “He glowed blue, don’cha know. Luckily we were ready for the enemy on our flanks.”

“We approached carefully, and the Swordsman of Moonsong was showing off his newly magical blade, courtesy of you dwarves.” Lyra tipped over a pawn with the base of her knight, claiming the first casualty of the game. She tried to hide a smile; the knight had a small flaw carved in the ivory, a chip on one side of its sword. It appeared to wield a tiny curved weapon, just like Fletcher.

The dwarf listened intently but took a pawn himself with his bishop. “But little did we know, there were skeletal archers across the way.” Lyra said with a frown, lamenting her first lost piece. “Yours truly landed a Damn good crossbow shot, drove straight through a skeleton’s skull.” Lyra moved her bishop, taking another pawn and perching the bishop on a safe space on the board. “Unfortunately, they seemed pretty resistant to that sort of thing.” The bishop was more detailed than the typical chess piece with a funny hat. Instead it depicted a man with a book, not unlike a spellcaster. Lyra couldn’t help but relate it to herself, trying to stay safe but still be helpful from the back.

The dwarf nodded and took her rook, apparently less distracted by the tale than the storyteller. “I suppose it is just as good that Nisa wasn’t there. Her arrows would have been next to useless on the skeletons.” Lyra sighed yet again. That rook would be missed, it was every bit as stalwart and dependable as Nisa, constantly covering retreats and halting advances. Always ready to strike at the king.

“Boy I tell you, that Fletcher is quite a sight in battle.” Lyra said. The dwarf brightened again at mention of Fletcher. Lyra grabbed the knight and knocked another pawn off the board. "When he gets in an enemy’s face, it is a sight to behold. He was a blur. He lopped off all four limbs of a skeletal champion with one sweep, then spun and thrust his blade through the skeleton’s falling skull within a fraction of a second.” She pantomimed a U-shaped cut with her hand then jabbed forward with a finger. “He seemed to visibly grow at this. He told us later that the new enchantment on his sword empowers him with the strength of a dwarf for a time should he prove himself worthy in battle.”

The amateur chess players exchanged a few more turns, in which the dwarf’s knight took another two pawns. “Haloisi and I weren’t faring quite so well in the close quarters. We aren’t used to the blunt weapons that you dwarves favor. Haloisi was still shaken from our first encounter on the wall. She had a bit of a breakdown before we ventured into the temple halls. Axiomus tried to calm her down, but turned his attention to the logistics of potion distribution mid-thought. I don’t get that guy sometimes.” Lyra mused, stopping an advancing unit with the properly carved knight. “You know Haloisi right? She’s pretty great, very handy with songs and spells, not so much with maces. I think she was still suffering from residual shock or something. Couldn’t hit a thing.”

The dwarf chuckled at the mention of two spellcasters flailing around with heavy maces. His scratchy voice spoke for the first time all match, mockingly saying “Well lass, y’know wha’ they say about you elves.” His voice trailed off, preferring to keep things polite by not finishing the insult.

“Hey, I’m not an elf!” Lyra countered. “I’m only half elf. And you know who else is?” With a quick snap of the warped ivory knight, Lyra took the dwarf’s rook. “The Swordsman of Moonsong, Fletcher Callahan himself.”

The dwarf observed the board with consternation. He had been distracted by Lyra’s tale, just as she had hoped. “Hah! You should see your face right now.” Lyra jeered. “Anyways, the undead leader took notice of Fletcher’s moves too, and began taunting us from the end of the hall as we fought our way through. He kept talking about wanting to test himself against a worthy opponent, or some such nonsense.”

The dwarf positioned his pieces, trying to isolate Lyra’s successful knight. He was certainly no chess master, but he was definitely a practical tactician. Fortunately for him, Lyra was neither master nor tactician; she had to resort to creativity, fast talking, and downright randomness. Though she did know a thing or two about being a squirrely target and kept the knight safe in the onslaught.

“Well anyways,” Lyra began, “we got to the final chamber of the temple. The hallway opened up and allowed us some maneuverability, not unlike the board now.” She gestured at the table. “It was ’round then that Thifal came rushing in to help us.” Lyra slid her second rook into the fray. It would be too easy to label Thifal as the bishop. Besides, the rook perfectly reflected his skillset; unyielding in defense but still punishing in offense.

A bishop struck down Lyra’s other knight, the one with the properly carved straight sword. “Our foes had a mage on their side. It reached out and touched the noble Axiomus with a spell of putridity. He had vanquished many a skeleton with his fiery breath, but the enemy mage rendered him paralyzed for the remainder of the battle.”

Lyra moved her own bishop to remedy the situation. “Luckily, I took the mage out on my own. But that’s when things got weird, and Fletcher did his thing.” Her short friend was fully distracted by the tale now, evidenced by the careless loss of his bishop to another bishop.

“This skeleton master challenged the Swordsman of Moonsong to a one on one duel. We didn’t want to allow it, but Fletcher insisted. The enemy leader had waited patiently for us to finish his minions up until now, and Fletcher was adamant that he return the favor. The undead man told us that he was cursed and must be defeated in single combat, lest he be revived and forced to continue fighting.” Lyra said, losing pieces turn after turn. “We were doubtful, but he held a fantastically brilliant weapon and wore ancient armor. He didn’t look like the type to make things up.” The board was nearly clear now, a sign of true chess amateurs just hunting for heads and having fun.

“Fletcher struck first, but was swatted away with a backhand. Peter struck back, landing a hilt strike on Fletcher’s jaw.” Lyra told the dwarf, who listened intently as he jockeyed for a good setup with the last few pieces. “Fletcher just spat some blood and spun back. The skeletal champion ducked in the smallest of movements and brought his terrible flaming sword upwards along Fletcher’s chest. It left a streak of embers along his armor.” Lyra explained, miming actions with grand sweeping gestures.

“Haloisi was singing at this point, her melodies filling Fletcher with inspiration. I tell you, when you hear a proper musician singing your praises, you can just center your mind and focus so easily. So that’s what he did. He blocked a blow aimed for his neck, managing to thrust back with his own blade.” Lyra was hardly focusing on the chess match at all. Neither was her opponent, fully engrossed in the tale of mortal combat, as any true dwarf would.

“Both combatants sliced at each other’s vitals; neither held back. Fletcher was filled with strength both from the battlesong and his peculiar enchanted blade. The duelists were trading blows faster than I could keep up, and I have very sharp eyes.” Lyra moved her warped knight in circles around the dwarf’s queen. “Then a gout of blood sprayed across the temple’s pews. May I remind you that the enemy did not have any blood. Fletcher was amazing though, he just ate the near-mortal blow and used it as an opportunity, bringing down his sword through Peter’s armor in the most vicious single strike I’ve ever seen.” Lyra slammed her hands on the table, abandoning any focus on the chess match. “And I’ve seen ogres, trolls and giants up close. Understand my full meaning when I say this hit was massive; it cleaved clear through the enemy’s armor. The enchanted armor, which kept the skeletal champion alive for hundreds of years… and it was in two pieces.”

The dwarves in the mess hall had nearly finished their breakfast. Somebody rang a brass bell in the corner of the room. Each of the dwarven soldiers began collecting their arms and filing out of the mess hall towards the wall for morning watch. They all looked weary from the long hours of high alert in the midst of a siege. Lyra’s new friend also buckled on his helmet and hefted his axe, ready to leave.

“Wait, I was just getting to the good part!” Lyra protested.

“Sorry lass, duty calls.” replied the dwarf with the forgotten name. He reached down and moved a lowly pawn a single space, seizing the hero knight, Lyra’s last non-pawn. “And checkmate in two moves. I really enjoyed your story, I’ll be telling the boys on the Wall about the mighty Fletcher Callahan. It ought to brighten their spirits.”

Lyra smiled at a mission accomplished, successfully inspiring another soldier. But she was still disappointed with yet another loss. She examined every possible move, baffled that a pawn could force an ending. Sure enough, the dwarf had assured his victory, perfectly capitalizing on the mutual sloppy play. The night watch was trundling in to the mess hall. One watch’s breakfast was another watch’s dinner.

Lyra slid up to a tired dwarf enjoying his meal of beans and stale bread rations. “Hey bud, you look stressed. Care to unwind with a friendly game? I’m awful, I promise.” she said, setting the board between them. He nodded and chewed on hard tack without a word.

As she reset the ivory chess set again, Lyra was reminded of the enemy that awaited them beyond the dwarven earthworks. Hundreds of gnolls chittered day and night, afraid to move forward into the fort, and even more afraid to retreat into whatever was driving them forward. Undead giants had already attacked once, and skeletal strike teams had infiltrated the holy wellspring below. Then there was the Dread Lady Niln, the probable commander of these undead forces. She remained an enigma, and a powerful one at that, to keep a champion as strong as Peter of the Sun Valley under her thumb.

Lyra shivered at the thought of a full assault. The slightest misstep could spell defeat. She couldn’t see her friends’ faces in the chess pieces anymore. They weren’t noble bishops, stalwart rooks, or valiant knights. They were all just pawns, in the end.

But even lowly pawns can seize victory. All they need is the courage to march on.

She looked up at the tired dwarf and smiled. “Say, have you heard about the Swordsman of Moonsong?”

Adventurers Needed!

Something is definitely not right in Moonsong City. Stories of abduction, death under mysterious circumstances, goblin attacks at night… No, something is definitely not right in Moonsong City.

More and more people are having to take matters into their own hands. The city watch has begun pulling people back out of retirement to handle the increasing numbers of incidents inside of the city’s outer walls. So much so, that it took a party of adventurers to stop a rampaging ogre and his goblin minions a few weeks ago. However, having seen that success in action, the city watch has begun recruiting adventurers to start taking on missions outside of the city walls.

The latest problem that needs addressing is a series of unfortunate incidents involving some undead. The bounty has been posted at all of the taverns in the flats, and you’ve let the barkeep at the Drunken Priest know that you’re available for hire given the right group. People seem to move through all the time trying to find groups to sponsor to further some noble’s name. You figure it’s only a matter of time before you’ll be paired with some other men or women looking to make a name for themselves while some noble takes all of the credit.

Hell, maybe today will be your lucky day…

S1 E13: Do a Man a Favor

Ambush at the Crossroads:
Defeated five skeletal champion Archers (CR2 @ 600xp each)
Defeated three skeletal champion (CR2 @ 600xp each)
Party Size: 4 (Axiomus, Haloisi, Lyra, Fletcher)
XP : 4800xp / 4 = 1200xp each (This seem high to the rest of you?)

For Ser Peter’s Pleasure:
Defeated four skeletal champion archers (CR2 @ 600xp each) [2400xp]
Defeated two skeletal champion (CR2 @ 600xp each) [1200xp]
Defeated one skeletal mage (CR5 @ 1600xp each) [1600xp]
Party Size: 5 (Axiomus, Haloisi, Lyra, Fletcher, Thifal)
XP: 5200xp / 5 = 1040xp each

Do a Man a Favor:
Defeated Peter of the Sun Valley in single combat. (CR7 @ 3200xp each)
Party Size: 5 (Axiomus, Haloisi, Lyra, Fletcher, Thifal)
XP: 3200xp / 5 = 640xp each (For fighting and for being smart enough to not fight. )
Bonus: 200xp for Haloisi for Song w/Lyrics.

Caleb's Debt

The mumbler clears his throat….

Caleb’s debt goes back hundreds of years…. In the time of the Golden Heroes, the Golden Heroes had taken possession of a piece of star metal, a gift from the gods to propel them to their destiny. The star metal was taken right under the nose of two different goblin tribes, an orc army, and the Undead Giants of Jorn the Giantslayer. (He spits at the mention of the name. Thifal hesitates for only a split second, then joins him.)

Jorn (spit) had nearly taken possession of the star metal when the heroes snatched it away from him. It was for this reason that they earned the GiantSlayer’s (spit) hatred.

The Golden Heroes sought to remove Jorn (spit) as a potential threat to them and they marched on his tower. Deep within the bowels of the earth, they uncovered Jorn’s (spit) cultists performing a dread ritual on a chained and subdued bronze dragon. They were unable to stop the ritual in time, but the work they did to eliminate the cultists and attempt to break the magic earned the desperate trust of the bronze dragon, and with her last bit of self gave them a riddle and a map to her lair.

After the heroes had been defeated by Jorn (spit) and chased from his tower they sought out the bronze’s lair guarded by now insanely paranoid elves. Able to win the trust of the elves, they discovered and rescued a set of bronze dragon eggs. They brought those to Mountain Breeze who helped care for the eggs of the bronze by request of the heroes. They soon hatched and participated in the second battle of Jorn’s tower, helping to rescue the heroes when they had yet again been defeated by Jorn’s undead hordes.

Since that time, Caleb and his litter mates have taken turns serving Mountain Breeze out of a sense of honor and loyalty to the old silver dragon who had taken pity on her bronze cousins.

Caleb’s secret is well kept by our dwarven honor. Darin honors you by allowing me to repeat it to you. There are only a handful, even in this castle that know of Caleb’s secret. Guard it well, so that Darin’s honor will not be tarnished by your indiscretion.

Fletcher buys the mumbler a flagon of ale, he must be a tad dry after such a moist tale.

Haloisi makes a mildly disgusted face and uses a subtle hand dance to whisk the spit out of sight.

As Fletcher orders the mumbler a drink, Lyra idly wonders what is star metal and what its significance could be.

S1 E12: Looking out from Guss's Gate

Our heroes took the wall as the first wave of gnolls attacked. Within the attack waves, three giants became immediately apparent. This clearly was the threat that the heroes must meet. Charging out from the wall Thifal and Fletcher looked to slow down the giants some. Only to be surprised by the look of pure hate in these creature’s eyes. They were already dead.

With malice and hate, the brute wights came forward, shrugging off arrows and attacks, they attempted to climb the wall. They were only successful in a single grab, taking the poor unfortunate dwarf and chomping down noisily through his skull.

Our heroes were able to slay all three of the undead giants, encouraging the dwarven defenders and forcing a retreat of the gnoll forces.

After a day of hard fought battles, Guss’s Gate remains securely in Dwarven hands. The party’s heroic efforts in turning back the Brute Wights turns the battle as the dwarves are inspired by the display of martial and magical prowess and rally to drive off the gnolls.

Farther back now on the horizon, the gnolls mill aimlessly. Clearly afraid to attack again, but similarly afraid to flee.

Using the Tavern as your home base, you’re preparing for a well earned rest. Darin has sent a dwarven mumbler to tell you the story of your choice. The history behind Jorn the Giantslayer, or the Nature of Caleb’s debt to Mountain Breeze.

At the same time, Darin is quite fascinated with the Elven curved blade. He turns it this way and that. Finally, he looks up and announces in a somber tone that he can help you. He takes the blade overnight. In the morning when he returns, the blade gleams with light.

I’ve had it enchanted as a gift for your actions on the wall, Darin tells you. It will never dull as long as a dwarf is near, and you will find it even faster and stronger than before. If you strike an enemy well, the blade will reflect back into the user the strength of a dwarf.

Elven Curved Blade +1__

  • Lights 15 feet when drawn
  • Blade will only require sharpening if it hasn’t been within five miles of a dwarf for a week.
  • On a natural 20, recipient gains the effect of “Bull’s Strength” (+4 enhancement bonus to strength) This effect does not stack with previous procs, nor does it stack with the spell if it is cast on you. This effect is immediate however and counts for the damage on the roll for which it procs.

Fletcher takes the blade and looks at it in wonder. He makes several cut through the air, a small almost imperceptible smile forms. He sheaths the blade, turns to Darin, and bows deeply and reverently to the dwarf.

“Soon, this great craft of your people and mine will taste the blood and hear the screams of our enemies. I will endeavor to prove worthy of this honor you do me.”

Fletcher bows once more, then goes off to practice with this new marvel of destruction.


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