On The Frontier

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Every campaign gets an Adventure Log, a blog for your adventures!

While the wiki is great for organizing your campaign world, it’s not the best way to chronicle your adventures. For that purpose, you need a blog!

The Adventure Log will allow you to chronologically order the happenings of your campaign. It serves as the record of what has passed. After each gaming session, come to the Adventure Log and write up what happened. In time, it will grow into a great story!

Best of all, each Adventure Log post is also a wiki page! You can link back and forth with your wiki, characters, and so forth as you wish.

One final tip: Before you jump in and try to write up the entire history for your campaign, take a deep breath. Rather than spending days writing and getting exhausted, I would suggest writing a quick “Story So Far” with only a summary. Then, get back to gaming! Grow your Adventure Log over time, rather than all at once.

DTH Journal Entry#1
Rheed Journal Game 1

First two days in this new land, already begun my investigation of the ancient lands. So far my investigations have only uncovered a few small ruins, but I have already tapped the local townsfolk on their knowledge and it is obviously just the tip of the iceberg. It is entirely possible that these frontiers-people have no idea what they are talking about. I look forward to working with some of the local people again, though some of them I am leary about. Keep a careful eye on anyone who claims to be in control or in the merchantry. Perhaps it would be good to begin searching for an outside the town answer to my housing situation. Humans can be quite troublesome. I begin personal expeditions on the morrow.


All quiet on the Eastern Border (almost)
Xavier Journal Game 1

Life with frontiersmen and day laborers is far different than home in Greyanna. Aside from the drunken brawls and random, often bogus residuum “finds” there is very little to keep one’s mind sharp.

The mayor seems to be too bogged down in his work to actually ever see his constituents and I’m not certain that he is “meant” to be a mayor “of the people”.

The briefest moment of “excitement” came after I heard a mild kerfuffle rising from the docks. By the time that I had made it down I could see no trace of a boat or even a small landing vessel. Upon coming back up to the “town-square”; by which I mean the four corners of the street represented by my office, the mayor’s residence, general store and the Inn; all I could make out were the bright red locks of a nude man entering Cal’s hovel.

I am not one to judge what the residents do within the confines of their respective residences, but once it hits the streets there is a certain decorum I must enforce. Unfortunately I have not been able to meet up with C.A.W-F. the III or his male “companion”, but the image that has been emblazened onto the populous’ eyes implores recompense.

Life and Times of Callium Athalton Windfall-Fischal III Vol. VII
Callium Athalton Windfall-Fischal III

3rd day of Yunfruh, year of the Gods

By this point in my tenure as a man of wealth and leisure I have seen and experienced my share of the bizarre and the fantastic though I must confess I could not have prepared myself for the arrival of strange naked man at my doorstep. What fortunes led him to the frontier and, indeed, to my camp I will probably never know. His speech and manner are incomprehensible and I am yet to make heads or tails of his story. From what I can cobble together between his mad rants is that the poor fellow found himself naked and awake inside one of the crates sent to the frontier on the very same vessel that bore me. Some how he, for lack of more appropriate term, could sense my mystical connection to powerful magicks and had become aware of me, though quite unconscious, during the trip. Most fantastic of all was the sudden appearance of robes the very second he walked through my door. One moment he was stark as the day he was born and the next he was dressed in the most hideous outfit I have ever had misfortune to look upon, the colors of which are so bright as to hurt to gaze upon for long.

When pressed about matters before his arrival he can say very little that a rational human could interpret. If, and gods be damned ‘IF’, I have it correct Baztron the Insensate, as he is calling himself, was making a peanut-butter, jelly and ham sandwich when his memory fades into obscurity. Though I cannot be certain, I believe the fellow was attempting to transmutate a copper pot into said sandwich when a bright flash over took him and he awoke inside the crate.

My knowledge of geography is extensive, as I have travelled much of the known world, however Baztron is unable to place together sensible markers that would assist me in determining his location prior to his kidnapping. I use the term kidnapping lightly as I refuse to believe that a man making a sandwich would somehow teleport himself into a crate without effort or knowledge of the teleportation. With some discrepancy I can only assume that Baztron was in the northern end of Greyana or perhaps on an astral plane populated entirely by fish-monsters. The sorcerer’s memories have certainly been jostled and it is unclear if he is placing himself in any given location or if his recollections so overlap as to be inseparable. Either way there do not appear to be appropriate motivators upon Baztron as to necessitate a kidnapping. For that matter I cannot begin to fathom why someone kidnapped would then be shipped here rather than held for ransom or simply murdered while unconscious.

Gods only know why I accepted his offer to shelter the miserable soul accept out of a spirit of generosity and benevolence previously unknown to me. Life in this backwater will be difficult enough without a raving lunatic nearby but I can only say that the sight of the retched urchin on my doorstep speaking without clear orientation of space or time tugged deeply on my sympathies. I am certain I will live to regret this decision. Perhaps he will simply make another sandwich and be on his merry way. Possibly he will kill me in my sleep assuming I am one of these damnedable fish-monsters he prattles on about. For the time he seems cogent enough to tell me apart from the furniture so I will continue to hope for the best.

Using some surplus materials I have commissioned the expansion of the yurt by virtue of a smaller, secondary yurt to be attached along side the main circumference with its own external entrance. Baztron will have use of and access to the kitchen and washroom but will have adjoined accommodations for his sleeping quarters. The very notion of spending another sleep deprived night with his endless snoring is quite enough to drive me as mad as he. Apparently Baztron has already assembled a stove and cauldron which are currently set behind the yurt but which seem to bubble and steam constantly. I pray he will not burn down my rather expensive structure though I remain confident that the wards and incantations should resist any mishaps Baztron may throw its way.

On a more productive note the ground work seems well laid to begin to establish myself within proximity to the lucrative trade through the region. I am quite useless when it comes to the collection or production of residuum, nor would I know the first thing to do with it once I had it, however I seem to be building excellent connections with those that do. Already I have several buyers lined up in, shall I say for safety sake, less conventional avenues of trade, who are willing to pay three times as much as the Company for similar levels of residuum. A handful of workers have begun to vest their interest in my proposals and I am confident that with a few initial samples I can convince the buyers to up their prices. This should make for wondrous amounts of profit for my contacts within the camp. The real trouble will be in overcoming their own stupidity such that they remain under the nose of the Company rather than smack in the face of it. I have spent a considerable amount of time in schooling these fellows on ways to nick residuum without being obvious. Now I can only hope for the best.

Secondly I feel a certain connection to a fellow merchant in town, a marvelous young entrepreneur, who has quite caught my interests. I sense she is hesitant to engage in any trade relations with me just yet which shows she is well qualified to perform her tasks. There is no doubt that with her savvy and my connections we could have some extremely profitable encounters. Though I blush to admit it, I would gladly surrender more than my usual ten percent commissions on such financial joinings. The trick here will be engendering enough trust to open the passages between us and begin the real efforts of trade. This shall be my most rewarding challenge to date and I will lean into this with full fervor.

4th day of Yunfruh, year of the Gods

Great fortune! By virtue of the level of my sharpened social skills from years as an International Man of Leisure, I have been given the honor of acting as Deputy Mayor. His Honor, Mark Sinclair, Mayor of our quaint frontier town, has bestowed upon me the task of liaison among the populace to act as a sort of voice of the Mayor. I went to visit the Honorable Mr. Sinclair when I noticed the poor man was dreadfully busy removing himself from a pile of paperwork taller than I by at least a head. What was I to do but offer my unparalleled social graces into his disposal? At once he caught the offer and set me out to attend to all of the Mayoral duties one simply cannot accomplish while tethered to a desk.

For the better part of the afternoon I sallied hence and forth attending to my duties. I met with foremen, managers, blacksmiths, cobblers, coopers and all manner of other dreadfully banal professions all eager to hear the word according to the Mayor or to ask of his blessings. I would be a bold faced liar if I said there wasn’t at least a small part of me that was moved by the responsibility and authority. I did manage to settle several disputes and quite a bit of confusion all through my own incomparable wit and charm. Huzzah! I am positively thrilled to be given such responsibility! Oh the places I will go and the heights I will reach to ensure our happy home runs smoothly.

Mr. the Insensate has been merrily relocated to his new adjoining quarters, and none too soon. The work crew finished the addition just before the end of dusk and Baztron flew into a tizzy to behold the space. Though I am unsure how, it seems he has managed to move the stove and cauldron, as well as a wooden bench he has procured, into his yurt. For much of the evening, since I left his company any way, all manner of thumps, bangs, wallops and hoots have been issuing from Baztron’s lair. I have issued him the solemn warning that if his efforts hinder my rest at all I shall simply revoke his privilege and send him packing! Though I yelled this to him from my yurt to his, I could tell from his response that he had, in fact, been quite cowed by my admonition. I look forward to a restful night’s sleep.

Ember Winters - game day 9/20

My first impressions of the town are both good and bad. There is a delightful shop with all sorts of goodies in the window. I dare not go in for getting lost in exploration. Kai, the shop owner, seems to be very smart indeed. I noticed straight away that the inn is not located on the main thorough-fare, nor does the owner care much about it. What this town seems to need is a bit of community planning! A successful town should be well thought out and the location of goods and services not be taken lightly! I plan to solicit interest for a community planning committee to take some of the heat off of the already overworked mayor. The success of this town is in our hands!

But, I am disappointed to reveal that I have had little time to pursue community planning. The field hospital has been very busy, what with a wall falling on some men and now the fire beetle incident in the workers’ camp. I am pleased to report that these workers seem to be a resilient bunch and the issues have been relatively minor. The Raven Queen saw one man meet his fate, but the lot of them seem to have taken the loss well.

More recently, Xavier asked for my assistance in forming a search party to track some missing patrols. We found three of the six men dead among some ancient ruins. What happened in the depths of one of the ruins is of great intrigue, and only after careful thought will I even dare to write it down (I never claimed to be a historian!).

There are some interesting folk to make note of…

*Kai – shop keeper, seems healthy, good skin, healthy freckles, will check teeth at more opportune time *Amir – magic user, learned, clean, a bit skinny, keep an eye on this one and assess sturdiness *Rheed – fighter, quiet, secretive, seems to have a good energy, may be very sensitive, keep an eye on him especially in battle *Xavier – sheriff, outgoing, may need to relax, has many worries and nervous energy *Old man with dog – old man should come by for a check-up, dog seems well-trained, perhaps a bit too well-trained, dog seems to have a good coat and non-offensive breath, good signs *Cal – Has many faces. He may be able to help, but can he be trusted? Looks healthy, but may in fact be ethically anemic *Quintilla – beautiful, mesmerizing voice. I plan to get to know her soon…

DTH Log Entry #2
Rheed Journal Game 2

It’s been about a week here in the surrounding areas of Eastport. I have found myself a domicile which will soon be able to keep me out of the elements, and hopefully away from the prying eyes of the town. With the recent discoveries of Aegis and the possibility to find what I have been searching my whole life for looming, I must admit I am confused about what to do. I feel as though I am put into a crossroads am and lost which way to walk. I have resolved to no longer hide who I am anymore, that much is clear. What to do with this most recent information however is something of a quandry. Do I forsake my original mission given to me by the Elders or follow a new path? At least now have an idea of who my enemy is, though they seem to have long since gone with the ancient civilization. I will at least have to continue my search for more artifacts and information.

Ember Winters, Reflection on Aegis

I cannot help but speculate about the _ (man? being? thing?) we met in the ruins. Rheed is keeping him (is this a “him”? how can he be a he without the things that make a man a man?). He is made of metal. How can this be? How does he move with no heart and no muscle and no blood? What magics are these that form a metal man who apparently feels (or does he?)? What is his purpose if not life? He certainly does not fit the current medical definition of life. Does he mimic life? Was he made to fight? And then what? Can he relate to others who are unlike him? Can he sense or understand any purpose but his own? He seems to know anger, can he know happiness? Can he know calm? Can he trust? Can he calculate?

Too many questions. Need answers. Must observe.

Shards of Thought #1
Aegis Journal #1

Is this the world we were promised?

The war is over, or so it seems.

The kingdom is lost, or so it seems.

Sweet Aliara is lost. The intruders said the words to make it right. Nothing more I can do.

Failure on all counts.

The others are lost. I feel some, but they are not near.

Others are gone.

Cannot remember much. Feel lessened, somehow.

Alone. Almost.

Rheed. Interesting. Lost. Scared. Knows little or nothing. Have they fallen so far?

Priestess of Death. Confusion. Wonder. Sees an object, not a man.

Shiny Star. Corrupted sign of Her? Reconnoiter. 5 Heads. Destroy.

Mage. Useful. Cautious. Tactical.

Town they say. Hide they say.


Think about circles. Why here? Why now?

The enemy.

The weapon.

Sentry. Guard. Be aware.

Watch. Wait. Watch. Wait. Watch. Wait.

The Wish List

There’s a piece of paper posted on the front door of Dry Goods, Assorted Oddities, and Other Necessities with the title “The Wish List”. Kai has posted it at some point overnight for the townsfolk to write down items which they’d like to have shipped in from Greyana. There is a small piece of charcoal on the windowsill to write down new items on the paper.

There’s a short note on the bottom of the paper that reads:

You have until sunset to write down your Wishes.

Ember Winters, Thoughts on Rheed

I’m not sure what is happening, but I hear from the townsfolk that the cloaked fighter I know as Rheed is really a great lizardman. I believe this to be true because of the multitude of accounts that a lizardman walked into town with Aegis. Given Aegis’ likely inability to make new friends paired with Rheed’s peculiar penchant for covering every square inch of flesh, it makes sense that Rheed and this lizardman are the same being. I have yet to see him for myself, but I am very curious as to his history. There are so many questions that will have to go unasked. Only his reaction to the baby in Aegis’ arms as found in the ruins is beginning to make sense. The rest is… uncertain.

I will work hard to make Rheed feel accepted. But I will work even harder to help him to actually be accepted.

The townsfolk are fearful. Fear is dangerous. Much work to be done.


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