Forgotten Realms: Classic

Uktar 16

Isini batted open his eyes, widened them, and surveyed the room, mouth slightly open, with his typical, casually awe-stricken, demeanor. It appeared as though someone had tossed him and all his belongings into a corner. A guard was whistling nearby.

Isini held on to the iron bars and pressed his face into the space between them; “What happened?”

“Your… friends dropped you off at the hospital,” the guard replied.

Isini looked at the unkempt men in the other cells. “This is the hospital?”

“This is jail,” the guard replied.

“Oh,” said Isini, “how come?”

The guard glanced at Isini, lit a pipe, took a few sips, then went back to whistling. Isini scratched his head, and stared at his feet.

An odd band of miscreants had dropped off what they could only assume was Isini’s corpse at the local healer’s inn.

The healer waved some boiled hartshorn spirit under Isini’s nose. Isini shot up breathing heavily.

The healer shook his head; “remeber me?”

Isini nodded in shock. “Kinda.”

The healer put his spectacles back on and went back to reading a scroll. “Go drink some water,” he beckoned to the corner.

Isini walked over, overlooking the water basin, and picked up a jar of ether. He drank it deeply in big gulps, vomited, and continued this process until the contents of the jar were mostly on the floor. Isini began stumbling out the door. The healer shook his head slowly without looking up.

Isini stumbled to a popular tavern, where he saw the blurry outline of a lovely halfling woman that looked familiar to him. He approached her.

“Remember me?”
“Yes.” She brushed a strand of auburn hair out of her face.
“Where have you, have I been… been?”
“Everyone just assumed you had died,” she said without looking up from her meal.
“I did!”
“You’re about to.”

Insini looked at the barkeep; “I’ll have what the dwarves’ll have usually of the time.”

He picked up what looked like an animal bladder from a pile of jugs just below the lowest visible shelf, and poured a helping of the contents into a thimble-sized glass.

Isini smiled at the woman intently. She glanced at him while chewing a potato, then rolled her eyes.

Isini slid a candle between them, and lit it using magic while smiling intently and the woman and trying to keep his vision straight.

He lit the candle gently using magic, and raised his glass. The halfling woman reluctantly humored him, clinking glasses. Isini sipped, and immediately sneezed. The cloud of volatile vaporous alcohol blew into the candle, set the liquor shelf on fire, causing a few small explosions. He began flailing his arms as he slowly fell off the stool, appropriately sized for someone two and a half times his height. As he cascaded to the floor, he tried to catch himself, grabbing hold of air in his left hand, and the halfling’s tunic in his right hand. The garment ripped off the shapely body over which it had been draped, and fell to the ground with Isini, who saw a blurry, and now partially nude, figure, a wall of flames, and then a blue flash and blackness as his head cracked a tile on the stone floor.

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Uktar 15

After a less than successful day of hunting displacer beasts in the Shaar, Mangus finds his party scattered across the windswept plains. The displacer beasts had gotten the jump on his party and the survivors were now isolated in the treacherous fields. It was dusk and Mangus would have to find shelter: it would be difficult to detect a predator approaching in the oncoming darkness.

The stars slowly came out and the bright moon rose overhead. Great waves of winds rose and fell upon the land. Mangus made his way towards a distant mountain range, following the moon.

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It was a long walk and the song of the blown grasses muffled his approach. As he got closer, Mangus spotted a burning campfire. He sheathed his greatsword and crept closer. Three figures swayed around the fire, upon which sat a large black cauldron. Mangus pondered the situation for a moment and slowly stood up. Soft murmurs emanated from the three. Mangus’s footsteps on the hard ground, roused their attention.

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At once, the three swiveled themselves to face Mangus. Three female, humans clad in black robes gazed upon him. They were middle aged and still and stared disappointedly at the hunter.

“You’re not the one we are expecting.” one declared.

“No matter, we can answer your questions.” They waved him to the cauldron and pointed into it. Mangus peered into the boiling pot. The roiling water and steam gave way to a vision…

…In it Mangus stood in the corner of a dark room. The room was messy and cluttered: books and scrolls covered nearly every surface. Flasks and vessels lined shelves and cobwebs bridged the gaps. A low-burning lantern sat on a desk, illuminating a pen and inkwell, and parchment. Mangus stepped out from the corner and approached the desk. The pen floated into the air, dipped itself into the inkwell and began drafting upon the parchment. Slowly a map began to take form as the pen scrawled across the page. At once his vision became blurry and the room began to darken. He squinted his eyes to clearly see the map but it would not focus. Just as darkness enveloped him and he was pulled into the corner from whence he came, a black cat leaped onto the desk…

Mangus came to lying on the ground next to the cooking fire. It was still night and the moon hidden behind the mountain range. The three figures were gone and the wind was still. The cauldron was missing and in its place a small iron pot. Mangus carefully lifted the lid and was greeted by the smell of rabbit stew.

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Uktar (The Rotting) 14

Nearly two years after his original expedition to Deadsnows, Aseir wakes in his remodeled hovel in the City of Splendors around noon-ish with a slight hangover. He makes his way down the city streets listening and gently weaving in and out of the crowd of passersby all the while using his dexterous hands to pick peoples pockets only stealing from those with excess and never stealing too much. He’s approached by a young scrangly courier who presents him with a letter, “Aseir, the Red?” Aseir shrugs and looks up and down his outfit with it’s very heavy deep crimson accents and pulls at his red cloak… “It is safe to say that I am. So…what do you want?” “Message for you, sir.” The boy hands Ase the letter, and keeps his hand open and waiting. Aseir reads the letter carefully:

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Deadsnows!? V!? Who do I know with the letter V? It has to be the one and only…well shit. Haven’t heard from her in years. And Deadsnows!? Why would I ever go back to Deadsnows? That back woods village with that woman…Icespear was her name…that wretch she feels so entitled and how could she not being the proprietor of that despicable miserable little mining town. So uncivilized. She’s lucky she’s attractive. But why would Vremya want me back in that town. She knows I would never want to voluntarily go back…if that’s the case she must have a reason worthwhile for my appearance and she has never let me down to date. Therefore I must go, I’ll leave soon. I just need to…

“What are you still doing? You gave me my letter now lea…Oh! Of course!” Ase reaches into his pockets and pulls out whatever gold he has inside and gives it to the boy. Ase gives him a smirk, “don’t spend it all in one place. No go.”

I’m going to need some money for this venture…couldn’t thing of a better reason to bring out Ullydin’s old pigs…

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Deadsnows 1369 DR

Vremya and company, explore the wilderness surrounding Deadsnows in search of a magic item. Under the direction of Lady Icespear company investigates monster attacks, abandoned homesteads, and a haunted mansion. Following their success, the party partly breaks up and returns personal affairs.

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