Blackwater Adventuring Company

Log 4: Blood of the Innocent, Body of a Lover
The plot thickens...

The members of Blackwater Adventuring Company quickly took to finding Marianne Watson. Althea was able to at least point them in a decent direction: The Commons. This area on the northeastern end of town was where there was the most housing and density of residents. There they were quickly intercepted by a shaggy, dirty man offering them some “action”. He introduced himself as Thomas.

Prostitution is not illegal in Cenandira, but is frowned upon and rare. However, it did not seem Thomas had the intention to offer them just ladies of the night. He spoke of something more sinister, but would not offer explicit detail. It involved women, money, a place and a password; a mansion in the eastern outskirts was where they must speak the phrase, “the wolf howls at pale moonlight.”

This of course did not occur without Gel’Thul’s reliable hostility. Thomas was nearly nearly choked to death, but Kraiven extinguished the situation. It was a lead and that was exactly what they came here for. They would see to this mansion at midnight. The underworld it housed would at least be a source of more information.

Midnight approached and their walk brought them upon the home glowing between the trees. An older man guarded by two others greeted them overcautiously, but was swift to allow their entrance once the password were spoken. Inside was an unexpected situation. Hooded men stood along the walls as sweaty, fat aristocrats awaited something eagerly before a stage and podium. A gentleman (term used loosely) then took to the stage and kicked off the event “with a bang”.

Marianne was guided to the stage between stumbles, bound at the wrist and blindfolded. She was to be sold to the fattest wallet. The bidding started at five hundred gold, but the bids were quickly interrupted. The adventurers saw no point in blending in. They had seen enough.

The room filled with Johann’s ghostly voice and the others stormed around him. The perverted fat-cats quickly escaped and the hooded men took to action. They would not allow their plan to be ruined. Gel’thul took to intimidating the auctioneer into a stumbling unconsciousness and the fighting began.

Blades danced and Raziel’s lightning breath took down each man, one by one. Johann’s flame made easy work of them and he approached his wounded woman. She was safe, but not all was well. She cried that her mother and Linda were also kidnapped by an enemy she had never seen before. She begged for their help, but after she began to describe the creatures that handled them, the decision was made. Goblins.

Blackwater would not let this crime pass without justice. The auctioneer, now conscious and terrified, offered his assistance in return for his life. They agreed and he hurried them to a carriage pulled by two horses. He will bring them to the operation’s base and signal them out of the carriage when it was safe. The ride would only be about half an hour. It seemed genuine.

Snow began to dust the forest and the night only sounded of horse trots and turning wheels. The time passed slowly, but they finally came to a stop and heard him speak. The rap on the side of carriage signaled their safe passage, but they revealed themselves to a setup. A mess of goblins awaited their emergence within a cave’s walls. Their thirst was for blood, but it was their own that would quench them.

The fight flowed similarly to the previous, though each hero seemed to have a grand entrance from the carriage. More than half of them have seen and killed their fair share of goblins – this was nothing new. Lightning, flame, and blade brought the creatures to their demise, but goblin words were uttered that only Kraiven could understand. Taunts were all the damage the goblins could inflict. Speak of a “Frostbitten Tyrant” and the rise of the “Dark Lord” sputtered from their mouths, but it was a name that seemed to stop Johann in his tracks…

Wilhelm van Der Pol. His brother, a mage of cold influence. His name came from the mouths of goblins in reverence. Where did he fit? What business has he with these dark creatures and these vile crimes?

Fenix’s keen eye provided the only path left to follow. A door upon the cave’s floor lead downward…

Log 3: Death & New Beginnings
Events get a bit more complicated...

Clem trustingly answered the door, but was quickly knocked back by bandits. They entered with full confidence that the man only had the women of the house to defend him. Surely they could take anything and everything they wanted with little resistance.

They were wrong.

The members of Blackwater Adventuring Company sat beside their dinners full of annoyance. They stood to defend the farm quickly, but they were not the only ones aware of the invasion. Walking the path to Cenandira were traveling couple Raziel and Kildria. Quick to action, they busted through the same door and incidentally harmed attackers before their weapons were even drawn. The four men stood no chance and were quickly expelled in a wave of blade and fire.

Clem laid beside the carnage nearly lifeless, but Kildria managed to stabilize him. The wound to his head was sure to take his life otherwise. He awoke as a result of her power and offered his deep thanks through squinted eyes. More strangers had found their way to his home, but he had no complaints. His family was safe and his home protected. He retired to his bed and Jennifer Mae accompanied him.

The daughters of the home were shook, but quickly took comfort alongside their protectors. Marianne especially, who took intimate comfort in Johann’s embrace. The company retired to their slumbers after their introductions to await a new day with a similar destination.

Unfortunately, morning brought no good news. The mist and fog seemed to tell the story of a man’s soul passed. The girls sat at the living room table, heads down in sorrow as Jenny cleaned and cooked through bouts of frustration and stress. Clem had passed in his sleep despite Kildria’s healing. He was a good man and had expressed nothing but warmth, welcome, and love to the strangers merely passing by. The adventurers decide Clem deserved a proper service.

The strongest of the group carried him to a grave dug beside a tree. Erik Alain attempted to speak carefully chosen words, but was left with only, “Rub-a-dub-dub…,” (rolled a 1) before Kildria took over. Her words were perfect as they laid the man to rest.

After the ceremony, Jenny requested that they bring Marianne to Cenandira as well to find them a new hand for the farm. Without Clem, there would be no one strong enough for the most challenging of work. They agreed and took their leave.

The walk was quiet and allowed the adventurers the bonding time. Their eventual arrival to Cenandira was thankfully uneventful as they left their horses to be tended to in the stables. The members of Blackwater needed to seek out Nolan Eran and they quickly deduced where he resided. He was said to be a tough, strong man who led the Fighter’s Guild just across the road. They located him with ease and got straight to the point.

Nolan believed their story of his rebellious brother coming to their aid, but had one stipulation for a final agreement. They must train with him for a week before he gave them any work. They agreed and took to his training. They benefited from his strict regiment and the week passed with no trouble. Marianne stayed at the inn and would report in to her new lover daily. Nolan was impressed and gave them their first assignment. It read:

“I kindly request the assistance of the Fighter’s Guild militia with my farm. For the past week, I have been consistently losing four to five sheep a day. As of yesterday, I have discovered large traces of blood left behind. I ask for only a night’s watch so we may at least identify the culprit.”

The adventurers took to the path that led out of the city and into the woods. No more than a two-hour walk, they found themselves beside a setting sun and a small sheep farm. Farmer Loran proved a skittish man as he barely allowed himself to be seen. Through a cracked door he confirmed his request and sent them away to the sheep. Night would complete her descent soon and they were to figure out just who was performing these sheep-nappings.

Once the moon and stars were the only source of light, they took to their hiding places. Erik found a spot amongst cooperative sheep and the other members formed a perimeter. Eventually, they gained sight of the culprits. A gang of men with wolves were clearly on their way to take what they wanted by force.

The battle was proved thoroughly one-sided as the men and wolves fell dead to their prowess. All but one. A scrawny, uncooperative man had but one answer beat out of him – the location of their camp, though he knew the information was useless. Once executed, they followed his direction, but were not completely disappointed. These men were harvesting blood and scripture left behind told of the return of The Dark Lord Turius. These mad men were of some sort of religion based on resurrecting a mythical being behind the Goblin War!

It was a crazed situation they could only imagine the scale of while on their moonlit stroll back to Cenandira, but these thoughts had to be put on hold upon their arrival. Morning began to rise to what imitated a peaceful day, but Althea from The Singing Sailor had news for Johann

Marianne was taken in the night by a man she thought she trusted. A man she thought she could bring home to the farm…

Log 2: The Road to Cenandira
What a tweest!

While running through the main room of the Glasspine Guardian barracks, the men of Blackwater stumbled upon a lone guard; A Tiefling by the name of Fenix. Fed up with the changing ways of Glasspine politics and militarism, he joined the veterans in their attempt to hunt down Rskalir Hammond. A signature Erik Backflip® set them on their way down the corridors.

After an empty hall lead them to a modest armory, a corner finally brought them to a longer corridor. Two doors on each side with a double-door at the end. Gel’thul, the barbarian, was quick to kick down a door to an empty room. Across the hall, however, Erik quietly entered the room of a sleeping Guardian. Followed swiftly, by Kraiven, Johann and the others, they surrounded his bed. A bloodcurdling shriek from Johann’s ghost sound woke the man, stunned and uncoordinated. The barbarian tried to push them aside to get at whatever “fight” was on, but his blind rage didn’t let him allow past the seal of the door frame.

Some questioning revealed that the man upon the bed really had no insight on their situation and Kraiven had a quick result for the Guardian’s uselessness. A clean haymaker to the chin left a blood stain against the wall and he was fast back to sleep. Now uninterested, Gel’thul continued to barge open doors to empty rooms full of nothing but beds, boxes, and useless armor. At least there was coin to be had.

Eventually, all that was left were the ominous double-doors at the end of the hall. Some of the company made their advance and opened the doors to find nothing but the corpse of Rskalir on the floor beside the bed. In a dark cloak, he lay lifeless, but his death seemed brought upon him without a struggle. Someone finished their job for them…and that wasn’t good. Even Erik’s signature backflip onto the bed could not make light of the situation.

Before they could even devise a theory, another cloaked figure approached them from behind. There was Liam Eldeen, looking as alive and well as the Warlock could. It would seem he was not your run of the mill politician. Then…betrayal reared its ugly head.

Julian bowed before his master and boasted of his delivery of Blackwater for the Duke to do with as he pleased. Julian was a fantasy double-agent! His terrorist organization’s purpose was only to frighten and control the public, not contest the government. His treachery knew no bounds. He was just as evil as the power-hungry Warlock. They both deserved death.

A dance of blades and fire erupted for all but Gel’thul. Busy looting, a shout of his name brought him into a craze and his blade soon after met Eldeen’s back after a rush down the hall. The fighting continued and as Eldeen looked about to fall, he called out for his guards. Three Guardians rushed down the halls bearing lit torches. “Set it ablaze!” Eldeen cried, and the walls were lit. The flames were his last sight as he was mercilessly cut in half by the barbarian’s blade. His torso made a thick thud on the ground. He mouthed the word “fire” one last time as his eyes closed.

Julian followed as he finally fell to Erik’s blade. The last of his strength led him to lay upon the bed and throw a bloody pillow with futility. The rest took to the guards. The barbarian quickly spilled the blood of the jugular of one onto the flames, partially extinguishing them. His friend, not used to the sight of so much blood and anguish, fell back onto the flames and was set ablaze. At a tap ofthe wizard‘s staff, the last of them was lunged headfirst through the double-doors. Landing unconscious on the bed beside Julian, the guard’s torch set fire to it. The flames grew higher.

They had to get moving. The company began their escape while Gel’thul grabbed the sleeping guard. They were met outside by an angry mob. A knocked-out Guardian on the barbarian’s shoulders offerred the adventurers proof of innocence. Even arson seemed stacked upon their alleged murders. The people of Glasspine wanted blood…

Then, one man recognized the barbarian. The half-orc was the creature of the forest he had only heard of in travelers’ stories! The citizen panicked and fled – as so did the rest. Blackwater almost had a clear path to escape until a final man decided would not let them leave.

Jasiat Eran would not allow whom he considered heroes to leave without steeds of their own for a quick escape. He was a sympathizer of the Red Torches and a man of great political ambition. Today’s “revolution” was his opportunity to reform his home with his own vision. He had doubted Julian’s loyalty to the movement for some time and suspected such deceit.

He brought them outside the town wall to a small entrance to the stables. Quietly entering, Erik and Fenix slipped into the stables under the distracted eyes of five guards and a guard dog. Carefully calming the horses and earning their trust one-by-one, the others began to enter and sneak about. The gentle rumble of horse steps and sighs kept the guards unaware and Johann’s prestidigitized muzzle kept the barks of the dog at bay. Jasiat wasn’t able to stay as quiet, but he stalled the tipped-off guards long enough for the others to deftly silence them.

Four of five horses were cleanly stolen until Johann made one nervous enough to gallop out. Some Guardians decided to chase the horses while the others were lured into a stable by sudden fireworks and were locked in by Fenix. The situation allowed a simple escape without another ounce of conflict.

Jasiat led them to the outrance and recommended they travel to the north. Cenandira was the home of his brother, Nolan Eran – the master of the local Fighter’s Guild. The mention of Jasiat’s name would give them a base of operations, decent work, and a home until Jasiat could stabilize Glasspine and welcome Blackwater back. It sounded like a good setup. The company agreed.

The road proved dark, but manageable. Eventually however, fatigue set in and they found a safe camping spot for their slumbers and trances. Fenix woke too soon after to the peaceful visit of a kitten. He immediately decided to keep it and adoringly named her Nova. Blackwater now had a furry mascot, but more rest was called for. Morning came hours later.

A breakfast of berries Gel’thul harvested and once-copulating bunnies Kraiven had hunted down filled them. Another sweet backflip from Erik over the fire and they were back on the road. Hours passed without issue and the countryside was a welcome sight. It had been years since the veterans had seen lush green and the barbarian was in a lonely, bleak forest for so long. Even Fenix hadn’t been out of Glasspine’s walls in quite a while.

Eventually, the countryside showed them its first sign of civilization. A farm with a few inhabitants was in the distance. Upon reaching it, a man named Clem Watson welcomed them openly and sparked conversation. He especially welcomed the veterans and expressed his gratitude. He then introduced the men to his two lovely daughters, Marianne and Linda, and to his wife Jennifer Mae…or Jenny as she prefers. Clem even generously offered them the stay for the night. The tired adventurers graciously accepted.

The inevitable flirting then began as the company got comfortable with the ladies. Johann chose to charm Marianne and Fenix took to the very married Jenny. The others relaxed (or tried to) until dinner was served. Pleasant conversation fluttered about until a knock came to the door.

An angry, forceful knock.

Current Day: January 3rd, 1 AGW

Log 1: The story so far...
An end and a beginning.

The Beginning of Blackwater…

The Goblin War has taken its toll on our adventurers, but is finally over. Only a year has passed since the treacherous conflict has ended, but it has brought together the unlikely allies. It was a time of rest and reconciliation as the friends formed the Blackwater Adventuring Company. As unsung heroes, they have decided to move forward and continue a life of adventure.

Their first stop would be the town of Glasspine. Immediately upon their arrival, they were met with trouble. A hanging was being performed in the town circle. Three men, convicted of unknown crimes were to be put to a gruesome death publicly. Duke Eldeen, the head of all political power in Glasspine, took the platform and gave a passionate speech. These men were of The Red Torches and their acts of terrorism were deserving of death.

And as the lever was pulled, Eldeen took a bolt to the chest. The shot had come from the crowd and Johann suddenly had a crossbow tossed into his hands. The secretary of Glasspine, Rsaklir had successfully framed the newcomers for the assassination of Duke Eldeen.

On the run, the company found themselves surrounded in an alley. It was a rock and a hard place until members of the Red Torches revealed themselves and aided them in a swift battle. They took guidance from their new allies and weaved through the back alleys of Glasspine. Eventually, they reached a dead end – a brick wall. A spell was spoken and the walls opened. It was a path the Torches would not follow with them, but they promised it lead to someone who could help.

A dark and cautious walk down the corridor brought them to a humble room where a man sat before a fire, smoking his pipe. Red haired and moderately bearded, he welcomed them. He already knew what occurred, but it was not supposed to end this way. His name was Julian Torch, and he apologized for the inconvenience. He explained to the veterans that there is still a war at home; This one between the Glasspine government and The Red Torches. Glasspine was slowly moving away from a thriving, democratic, happy community to one controlled by fear. Eldeen was slowly becoming an emperor and trade was being cut off to use all goods for the “betterment of Glasspine.”

His group, The Red Torches were liberators. Men and women who fought for freedom. He went on to say that killing Eldeen was not the solution he wanted. His mole, secretary Rskalir, had gone too far. As Glasspine scrambles for a new leader, they would naturally choose next in command and that just so happened to be Rskalir. It would seem he wants to take over and may have his own agenda.

Julian had to head to the outskirts of a town that he hadn’t walked the streets of in five years. His work from a magical sanctuary was about to be ruined and the men posted on the outskirts needed to be called to arms. He needed Blackwater’s help to get there and they needed a way out. He had one…an entrance to the sewers. The company decided to take to the sewers and aid Julian in his escape to the outskirts of Glasspine.

The first tunnels revealed an early ladder. A curious climb brought them to a basement. Dark and full of cases, a few decided to commit some thievery. They proceeded up the stairs into the living area. Sneaking about, Kraiven bumped his toe (rolled a 1) and screamed aloud. A light came on from atop the stairs and a man out of view shouted to the intruders to reveal themselves. Another roll of a 1 brought the adventurers into view and the man cowered. A knock came to the door, and Glasspine Guardians called for the blacksmith to open up. They were searching for the killers of Duke Eldeen.

With some clever wizardry (a ghost sound to distract the additional guards outside the door), only one remained knocking. Threats on the blacksmith’s life bought the company some time to hide before the Guardian was let in. He went up the stairs, but was knocked out by Kraiven before doing any harm. It was a guard they had seen at the town circle and no doubt one of the higher ranked officers. With him knocked out, they were able to get back into the sewers.

Once there, they continued through the unpleasant maze until reaching a gate. Backtracking a bit revealed a lever that had to be pulled. A lever that unfortunately shared a room with a giant alligator. The battle was not an easy one. Some fell into the waters and attacked the beast at its underbelly while others jumped onto its snout and sliced away. The only casualty was the scaly creature. Carving into its stomach, loot was found and Blackwater continued into the sewers to find the river it emptied into.

The town lay ahead over the hill and Julian led the way. Once at the top, they realized the gloomy fate of the Red Torch outpost. In flames, the strongest of Julian’s ragtag army lay lifeless among the rubble. Only one could utter final words to his leader. Rskalir had betrayed the Red Torches and brought the Glasspine Guardians to the outpost. They were severely outnumbered and were taken by surprise. Their normal tactics had no room for functionality in an all-out assault.

Julian had only one word reverberate through his mind and bones – revenge. Revenge had to be had…but his movement had lost so much. He had one last chance. Julian offerred coin and power for Blackwater’s further assistance. They agreed to help Julian infiltrate Glasspine and murder Rskalir. Only then could he continue his work. Now bearing the armor of the few slain Guardians, they devised a plan to bring in the Barbarian as a prisoner in their disguises. If it all went awry, the safety phrase was, “Light the torches.”

They arrived at the entrance to Glasspine they once walked through as innocent travelers and met with the Guardians. Their story checked out, but one thing did not – the Barbarian’s temper. One headbutt later, Kraiven sighed and shouted, “Light the torches!”. The battle was quick and precise to allow the adventurers to penetrate the entrance toward where they figured he’d lay low – the heavily guarded North Tower.

In disguise and with a decent story, the guards permitted their entrance. Yet, one seemed oddly wary. He approached Julian, who bore a Glasspine Guardian’s armor and gave him a once-over. He eventually seemed to let his guard down and allow them to relax as he prepared the proper paperwork for the prisoner. Unbeknownst to the adventurers, he was in fact warning one of the guards to leave the tower inform the barracks. A check revealed their readiness for a battle with a very unfortunate end for the Guardians. Even more unfortunate was that Rskalir was nowhere to be found.

Taking futile chase, they came upon the barracks. It was the second most secure structure in the city and a likely shelter for the secretary. It was a big risk that had to be handled with delicacy. A deft ear to the door revealed a squad of Guardians ready to take patrol and hunt the assassins of Eldeen. It was even rumored Julian Torch was sighted, so they could kill him while they’re at it!

The adventurer’s took to hiding. Some very well and some (Kraiven) not so much. However, still in disguise, he bluffed with a convincing, “I was peeing outside,” and was ordered to get into the building immediately.

Another ghost sound around the corner alerted the squad and they took leave. The others snuck in and barricaded the door behind them. They swiftly continued on and found themselves in the mess hall. A rather large soldier and his friend met them there, so the company made an even bigger mess out of the hall. It would seem Rskalir was on the other side of the barracks.

They hurried back the way they came and then up the other hall. Rskalir had to be here.

Rskalir had to be killed.

Welcome to your Adventure Log!
A blog for your campaign

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.


I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.