by Adrian "Cronin" Cronin
We were a gust of wind, sprinting across the forests of the realms. Wild, beautiful and free. It was the third day of the full moon and our Voranian hunting party found itself within the lands of Chimeron. The roads were clear and the village particularly quiet. The scent of other wolves in the area was troubling, we were unaware of what invading another packs territory may cause within the lands of Chimeron, and weren’t eager to disturb.
As we patrolled the village, we encountered bandits who were foolish enough to try and exact a toll from a pack of werewolves, as well as one of the wolves we had smelled when we arrived. Hygar, our alpha made a pact of non-aggression if the wolf agreed to let us pass.
Shortly after, we encountered “Blue”, and were forced to deal with it. The sword, and the ominous figure who wielded the sword, caused no small amount of panic amongst our party but eventually ran off into the night. We returned to the tavern to a magical commotion. The tiny town had appeared. People seemed excited. I shared in their revelry with little understanding of the magical phenomenon.
With the moon covered in clouds of the coming storm and little to do on behalf of tiny town, we made our way back to camp and laid down to rest.
Early to rise as always, I donned my armor and best garb to see what state Chimeron was in with the return of the sun. I found a tavern, filled with interesting bobbles, potions, and garb for sale as well as food for the weary traveler, and weary I was. I filled my stomach with pancakes, bacon, and fruit and waited to be joined by my countrymen and fellow adventurers of the realms. As they arrived, they too broke their fasts and shared tales of their travels. Eventually, our peace was broken by the attack of some goblins, of which we made quick work of.
With the adventurers ready for action, many of us took to patrolling and “looking for trouble” so to speak. Others lit candles and took naps, how strange. But nonetheless, we helped solve arguments between farmers and interacted with a few strange folks who asked us if we wanted to enter “the dreaming…” This explained the candles. I signed on to become a caravan guard for a caravan that never arrived. Or perhaps I missed my opportunity, I cannot be sure. I was distracted by the truest enemy, the heat.
With a few skirmishes having had taken place, the visible exhaustion on the faces of our compatriots was noticeable by all. As if from divine providence, the guard of life appeared. And we Voranians accompanied by Neden Demons and many others, put aside our differences for some wholesome aquatic fun.
We found the water to be dominated by sharks but their intent wasn’t to harm us but to judge the construction of some boats. At least three boats if not more took part in the competition but I noticed a beautiful vessel with the flags of Stonewood and Northern Alliance upon it. If this was not the winner I will surely be surprised.
I exited the water to change into dry clothes and don my armor and weapons. I returned to hear tales of commotion from the waterfront. Tales of debtors, explosions, and Thoril. But we’ll come back to this later.
For it was time to feast. Dinner was quite the spread, with hamburgers and hot dogs abound. Dinner was accompanied by a show, which I was eager to see. My fellow Broken Spear: Ruthade was standing strong, returning to the stage where he belongs. I first met Ruthade doing street theatre to incite revolution in our homeland. He was known to use the timing of these theatrics to pull off grand schemes against the corrupt nobility. I do not know why I didn’t suspect this to be the case on this occasion, my nostalgia must have gotten the better of me.
For after seeing Ruthade play the best-dammed horse to ever cross the center stage, and the crowd applauded, he and his fellow thespians ran off with a damsel of the court. I quickly chased after them to assure my countrymen’s safety. I found him with a bump on his head and a wide grin on his face. Turns out he took this quest on in the name of Love to help a young couple escape their disapproving parents. I later caught him upon the stage, alone and seemingly unwatched, giving a final bow. He made me proud to be a Broken Spear and proud to be his friend.
After our bellies were full, a lower court was formed to deal with the “misdeeds” of the day. Thoril was tried for blowing up an extortionist, but Dresden made a fine attorney and helped prove the absurdity of the accusation. Thoril paid a small fine to the not so deceased party and we moved on to greater concerns.
We gathered our gear and prepared to retake a mine which was being occupied by werewolves and vampires. Knowing no natural or benevolent force would make these creatures work together, we agreed to march upon the cave to be these beasts salvation. We were also informed that a monolith was causing the townspeople who came too close to change into these creatures of the night. We brought Vandor’s light into those tunnels and battled our way to the monolith.
Extravagant magical fare from Priest Z and his Neden comrades, gave the edge necessary to crush the monolith and send it to the all. Victory was hard-earned as friend turned against friend. Fangs began to spout from the females of the party while the men gave a familiar howl. I was struck down in the back by one of my own countrymen, and it all went black.
When I awoke, I saw most of our party was dead. Luckily we were able to heal our dead and leave that mine with the spoils of victory and a very thankful populace. We returned to camp for a well-earned rest.
The following morning, what adventurers remained got to work. Sir Tao, Gordon, myself and others began embarking on a marathon of dreaming adventures to get resources to help build up the tiny town. Everything from peacefully relocating abominable insects to retaking a forge alongside our Voranian cohorts. I even helped save a group of farmers by building a scarecrow alongside my King. Each victory helped us build up Tiny town, so we hammered away.
Suddenly a flag rose in Tiny Town which would allow us to visit. So we all constructed Tiny models of ourselves and placed them into the town and we were magically transported. I placed my piece in haste alongside Sir Tao as it seemed the town was in danger.
Tao and I stood against half a dozen green warriors, with great weapons and greater tempers. Outnumbered, we were easily overtaken. When we awoke to some cry of life, we stood and gripped our weapons once more. Except now we stood alongside half a dozen more warriors and casters alike. It was time… for vengeance.
We hacked away at the beasts with abandon but to no avail. They would simply return shortly after being put down. A large bird-like humanoid put a stop to the fighting. He hoped maybe we would be able to help them. Eager to find an alternate solution, we agreed to try and help free them and we spirited away back to the tavern in Chimeron.
I had the idea to create a piece for the birdman, that maybe by putting the piece in the town, our friend could use the same method as us to exit. So we entered once more, struck fast and efficiently, and Tao tackled our birdman through the magical barrier.
Upon returning to the tavern, we quickly realized our failure and sought the help of a Seer… to locate our bird friend. Kara learned he was being ripped apart and put back together in some kind of time loop. Tao went on a solo mission and ensured the creature was banished to where it belonged.
Reluctant to return to the town to face those creatures again, we instead set ourselves to the task of building up the town with whatever resources we had produced. This was a joint effort of many talented crafters and artists as well as the spoils of a fine quest grind. But even with the town built up so much, it was clear we needed a ritual to bind the tiny town to this place before it disappeared from the tavern.
I sought Thoril out for help but found him drained of energy both magical and physical. I told him to think on it and brought him some water. He realized he had a reforge spell left and thought with the right magical components, he may be able to reforge the anchor to Tiny town.
I rushed Thoril over to relay in detail what was beyond my comprehension. Amada, not even needing council from Thoril quickly went to work on casting the spell. Calling out to spirits of the land and using what appeared to be rocks and cloth and other components I witnessed Amada tap into the weave. Thoril reached out his hand charged her ritual with his spell and we all felt the magic, that Tiny town had been soaking up, release into the land as the anchor was repaired. We had won.
I gathered my things and prepared for the long journey home to Voraniss. With thoughts of battle, strange dreams and the friendliest abominable bug I had ever met flowing through my brain.
