Forgotten Realms: Classic

The Search for the Wand of Four Moons
Uktar 30 and the Feast of the Moon

1. The party receives a letter from Lady Areleth Icespear. She requests the party’s aid in recovering the Wand of Four Moons, a holy artifact associated with the church of Selune.

1.5. Background: The Wand of Four Moons was being transferred from the Morning Watchtower to the festival square on Uktar 29, but an assailant knocked out the guards and made off with the Wand. It is the following morning and Icespear tells you that there are witnesses being held at the jai.

2. The party interrogates the witnesses at Deadsnows Jail. Hro’Lazdok, a traveling half-elf, points the party in the direction of Agnar, the Blazon’s kitchen hand.

3. Lonnor, the Blazon’s owner, reveals that Agnar has been acting strange lately. The party posts up around the Blazon. Murphy and the White Hand gang are also called upon to help the party. One of Murphy’s gang claims he saw two Agnars.

4. When the party attempts to confront Agnar, he makes a break for it. The party pursues Agnar to an abandoned building. Mangus follows the kitchen boy through a trap door that descends into a tunnel.

5. Agnar’s real identity is revealed to the party. A young rakshasa fights for his life against the party, but Mangus and Vremya dispatch the beast with practiced ease. On its person, they find the Wand of Four Moons.

6. The party returns the Wand to Lady Icespear. She pays them 15gp each.

Unanswered Questions: Where does the tunnel lead in the abandoned building? What does a Rakshasa want with the Wand of Four Moons? How does a place like Deadsnows have such a powerful magical artifact like the Wand of Four Moons? Two of the other witnesses (Janessa Rivers and Dominic Heartfall) testified falsely, so what should be done with them? Where did the two guards that were originally guarding the Wand go? What will become of the real Agnar and Lonnor?

The Winter Haunt

1. Party reconciles after nearly two years, they meet Teos
2. Lady Icespear meets with Vremya and “Captain Storm” about recent goings-on
3. Party learns the tale of the Winter Haunt
4. Party meets a band of children who are plotting a high-profile burglary
5. Party gets roped into the winter pranks committed by dozens of local children seasonally
6. Party discovers that those that believed in the Winter Haunt were correct- they slay the beast, although the building referred to colloquially as The Port is partially destroyed in the process
7. Lady Icespear awards Vremya five broaches indicating official endorsement by the aristocracy of Deadsnows. Vremya gives one of the broaches to Murphey, and plans to distribute the rest amongst the party.

Treasure and Experience:
-Reached level 2
-Managed to earn esteem from both the Six Fingered Hand and the local aristocracy & guard; however it is difficult to determine how much Lady Icespear knows about what has transpired.
-3x black iron broaches with Lady Icespear’s crest
-1x Sterling-plated broach with Lady Icespear’s crest
-Grik-Grik took a key ring that a guard at The Port once owned

NP Characters:
Krussic- Prisoner and head of the Six Fingered Hand in Deadsnows
Murphey- Krussic’s daughter and heiress to his seat
Timmy, Iskandar, & Fandral- Three former runaways Murphey referred to as her “brothers”
Wilhelm- Owner of the Boarshead Inn, where Vremya is a resident and Isni is a squatter
The Winter Haunt- A Babau Demon that the party has slain and identified as the kidnapper

A Barkeep's Tale

Uktar 15

" No Storik you had enough! Stop wailing back there like a stuck pig and let me tell these gentlemen my story! Now, where was I? Oh yes, was but a fortnight ago, slow business per usual, must have been half passed two when he stepped through my door. I had just finished cleaning the bar, like I do every night… "

“Liiiike helll ya do ya lazy old bastard! Look at me glass, it’s got more cobwebs then ale in it!”

“Seven hells take you Storik, shut your big ugly mouth or I swear you wont be getting any more of my ale, cobwebs or not! Anyway, this stranger walks in wrapped up in this big old cloak, like its the middle of Nightal in The Spine. Had an air of strangeness from the start he did, seemed out of place even in a bustling tavern. After a while he found his way to the bar and I asked him what he was drinking. He just looked up at me from under his cloak and starred. From the look of his skin I could tell he wasn’t from around these parts, south maybe, Calimsham perhaps? No, this one was darker. Anyway, I told him that the bar was for paying customers only and went to grab old Herich a pint when the man whispers ‘wait’ just loud enough for me to hear. I turn around and look back at this stranger, more than a little annoyed at this point and before I can get a word out he tells me in a thick foreign accent ‘where can I find the goddess?’ Being an expert on the town as I am I quickly began to inform him of the various churches and altars, when he produced out a small dirty scrap of paper out of his thick cloak. ‘Selune?’ I said, and went on to tell him that we haven’t had a following of Selune for years! But the stranger insisted that ‘the goddess is here’ so I told him of the old broken down altar up on the western outskirts of town. Before the damn words were out of my mouth he stood up and started for the door. I yelled at him ‘Hey, tips like that aren’t free ya know!’ hoping to make a bit on the side, with the economy being as it is. And sure enough what does he do but walk right on back over. He pulls back his cloak just enough for me to catch a glimpse of whats underneath, and it damn near stole the life from me! Bones! I saw the white glimmer of bones underneath the foreign strangers coat! Then his face flickers into view, a blue triangle blemishes his brow, seared on as if burned on by some vile force . Instinctively my hand found the bastard sword I keep under the bar here and was about to send him back to his homeland in a box until…he produced a ornate golden sphere the size of my hand and set it down right here. Hell of a gratuity eh! He didn’t even say another word, just headed right through those doors. At this point my curiosity had the better of me, so I closed down the bar, kicked out the stranglers, and made my way over to the old Selune shrine. Sure enough there he was, crouched down next to her statue. He was talking, though for the life of me I couldn’t understand a word of his foreign tongue. Suddenly they were upon him. Three men, all with axes, closing in fast on the stranger. He had to have known they were there, they were far less than discrete, yet the foreigner remained still. It happened so fast, a flash of green, root and stems and ivy surging from the ground, the men screaming as they are lifted off the ground, their weapons clamoring to the ground. He stands finally, and produces a nasty weapon made of wood and bleached bone. He nears one of the assailants, raises his head to the sky, and states to the bitter darkness ‘You will have to do better than this to reclaim me’. He rips off a talisman from the attackers neck, and then severs it from his body as casual as you or I would scratch an itch. I watch as the undergrowth swallows the other two, their screams muffled by pounds of foliage. He looks over to me, as if he had know that I was watching the whole time. I’m paralyzed as he whispers to me again. I can’t hear him over the howling wind, but his lips read true.

‘Run’ he says
So I ran.
And here I am".

“The gold piece, can we see it”.

“Of course!”

The bartender places his prize on the counter, the men eye it almost hungrily.
“It was him” They whisper.

“I’ll be taking that back now.” The bartender hurriedly exclaims, noticing their expressions.

“I don’t think so” one of them says. The bartender beats him to the token, but not before the man reaches over the bar and his talisman around his neck slips into view.

The bartender understands all now but it happens so fast. Storik’s drunken slurs are replaced by squealing as one of the strangers sticks him through the belly. The others try to escape but swiftly meet the same fate. One is over the bar now and raises his sword. The barkeep reaches for his bastard sword, but his age has slowed him down. One last thought passes through his head before steel meets flesh.

He should have listened. He should have ran.
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.

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.


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.


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.

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:


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…

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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