Amnesia

The Cult

Upon returning to his room after the party managed to convince Rashek to wait patiently while they saved his middle daughter from the Thunderpire Mountains, the Guardian found an unsigned note on his bed:

Rejoice brother, the Dark Sun is worshiped here. Meet us behind the Downwind Tavern at midnight, alone.

The Guardian took up the invitation. After being led to a secret temple at the back of a warehouse, he witnessed a ceremony dedicated to Cyric, an old mostly-forgotten god of betrayal which culminated in the brutal murder of trusting new convert: Nessa.

Surrounded by cultists and in unknown territory, the Guardian could only helplessly watch as the cult leader removed Nessa’s head and brandished it at the congregation as a lesson to never trust anyone.

Once everybody had left he quickly rejoined the group and tried to locate Rashek. Finding out that the innkeeper had left Eagle Peak after their conversation, the group decided to confirm the Guardian’s story and storm the forgotten temple. They made quick, if not quiet, work of the mercenaries guarding the actual warehouse and closed the secret door to the temple just as soldiers started working on the warehouse’s front door.

After walking through a few traps, the party made it to the sanctum. There, they found a small group of worshippers in prayer. After a short but brutal fight, they captured the group’s priest and found the cave where the cult has apparently been disposing of its sacrifices.

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The Cure for What Ails Ya
The Mouth's "What"

Some people feel that it is easier to think of drugs as sentient creatures in their own right, a sort of symbiote or parasite that strives to have its host consume more of itself. Were this actually the case, it would go a long way into explaining the memories which managed to break through the miasma at the back of your mind. Indeed, just as you started truly suffering the pangs of withdrawal, something came through: haddrun.

Somehow, you always knew that bitter nectar you found in the cave was yours, but now, remembering what it actually is, is like reuniting with a friend, no, more like a loved but resented brother. What little Siv or Div told you was right; it’s made from dragon’s blood and it is a sort of medicine, but there were some rather important missing details. Firstly, it’s illegal in most civilized areas. Not because it’s inherently dangerous, but because dragons don’t like people hunting them for their blood and have been known to express their feelings on the matter with rampant carnage. Secondly, it won’t cure you of anything, but it’ll make you feel good. In fact, take enough of it and you’ll feel downright invincible. You can’t quite remember when or how you started taking it, but you remember why: it made you better at your job, whatever that was. It made you a hard bloke and, what’s more, you had easy access to it. Not like those poor bastards who had to pay anywhere from 50 to 300 gp for a single hit. By bits and pieces, you learned more than most people do about the drug. Haddrun comes from the south. It is made from dragon’s blood and is also known as dragon’s breath and blood lightning. Far less well known is the fact that haddrun, made from the blood of blue dragons, is only one of many drugs which can be made from the blood of dragons. As you ponder this last memory and why it is that you would know this these words reverberate in your mind: “… past Eagle Peak… …contact… …Orofin near the Scimitar Spires… …young shadow drake… … get the blood back and I’ll make you rich… …might even give you a taste.”

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Agression, Goblin and Bears, Oh My!

by The Fey

My life just gets mor and more complicated, of course as my life has really only just begn a few days ago, that’s not surprising.

After being released by the innkeeper of “the Only Inn in Town”, we sat down for some breakfast. During which, The Mouth made a strange admission.

He had been rambling on and on at great speed about unimportant plans, thinking we could fool the Orc chieftain or some such.

During these ramblings, The Mouth said “I once met this clan of small folk…”. Seeing how we have no memories, I called him on this statement and he avoided answering and we almost came to blows, but it passed.

Once all this done, some shopping was made, poisons were purchased, deals with shady characters were sealed but I really had no interest in any of it.

Once our preperations done we left town in search of a missing girl who apparently was our companion. After sone travel we made camp and were ambushed by some goblins, the fight was bloody but quick, we attempted to follow their tracks, but they are cunning foes at home in the region, and wasted a full day.

Deciding to make camp in some caves, we were suprised to see a bear and her cub,The Seeker fired out of surprise and we found ourselves in yet another bloody conflict.

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It Begins!
First adventure

I’m kind of playing catch up here… For the moment being, here is some barebones info about the early adventures.

Protagonists wake up in a crudely sealed cave with no personal memories. In the cave are a pile of equipment and a note scrawled in fluorescent moss warning of orcs.
The pile of equipment contains what can only be personal items. One of the items in questions reacts to the eladrin’s touch. Party splits equipment as best they can. The dwarf grumbles about how equipment is not best suited to his abilities.
Hunting dogs lead orcs to the cave.
Party dispatches orc and dogs.
Wizard establishes that the current cold conditions and snowy blanket is the result of high altitude. Characters are in a mountain range.
Party follows what appear to be tracks made by dragged body back to an abandoned camp currently being ransacked by orcs.
Rogue and Warlock try to set up themselves up for a surprise assault on orcs. Warlock spotted, attacked and forced to retreat. Rogue then spotted, attacked and forced to fall unconscious. Rest of party arrives and turns tide of encounter.
Party searches camp find equipment equivalent to two adventurer’s kits. Camp appears to have accommodated six people. A page which appears to have come from the emptied diary is found, mostly burnt, in the ashes of the campfire. It speaks of a meeting on top of the Orc Toof.
The party spots a peak that looks conveniently like an orcish fang.
They make their way to the top of the mountain only to find four bodies strung up on a tree swarmed by rats.
After dispatching the rats, the party identify the bodies as those of a doppelganger, a shadovar male and two human males branded as traitors of Cormyr.

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So it begins...
It's all fun and games until someone loses their mind.
The pain in your head wakes you up with a start. You choke back a scream as you realize you’re in a dark, dank and unknown place. You can already tell today is likely not going to be one of your all-time favourites. Some primitive secluded part of you is still screaming in the recesses of your mind. Setting it aside for later consideration, you make a quick inventory of your surroundings:
  • You are half-sitting in what appears to be a natural cave
  • You do not appear dressed for the occasions, wearing light-ish clothing
  • Shafts of light, piercing what appears to be a makeshift wall covering the cave’s mouth, reveal that three other individuals are sharing your predicament
  • You can hear an animal sniffing and pawing at the stones forming the false wall
  • A pile of equipment, which, if one is to judge by the bloodied shield on top, likely did not belong to a troupe of travelling librarians sits in a corner below a patch of softly glowing fungus
  • Someone has taken the time to scratch a message in the slime: “Be wary: here there be Orcs”

As you consider how to synthesize this information, the dogs outside begin to bark and guttural voices you can barely make out scream out a reply. As things most likely can’t get any worse, you turn to the gibbering voice in your head…

Right, that is a valid question…

Who in the Nine Hells are you?

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