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?

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.

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.

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.”

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.

Mad Prophet's Prophecy

By the Mouth

After assaulting the hidden temple of evil and capturing the head cleric, we finish exploring the temple complex. As we approach the last door in this section, you become aware of the smell of feces. We gingerly open this door and are almost physically assaulted by the stench. Every surface inside this cell seems smeared with multiple layers of excrement. Hay and refuse are heaped in the one corner as a makeshift cot, while a bed, no longer sporting a mattress stands in the other. Sitting regally on a wooden chair is an old, naked, elven man with unkempt white hair with shit-brown streaks. Jagged shards of broken crockery have been tied around his forehead with a strip of ripped cloth as a sort of makeshift crown. I call out to him but he does not respond. Once everyone has slowly made their way within the room, trying their best not to touch anything, he looks imperiously at the group and says in a commanding voice that freezes our bodies entirely:

Hark, Ebon Spur
Your Labours Here Please Me
A Boon:
Seek the Raven Where the Grain Swims
Ask Why It Wrought Such a Strange Murder
Blackbird, Conure and Dove
Dodo, Magpie and Owl
Peacock, Eagle, Cowbird and Hawk
Its Answer Can Split in Twain What Was Broken
Mending it and Making It Whole

The words out of his mouth, the elf loses his otherworldly dignity. He guffaws and begins mirthfully chanting to himself as he comes down from the chair to wallow in his filth:
“Forgive the forgotten, forget the forgiven, you forgot and I forgive in the fog…”

Leaving the evil temple

By The Mouth


Returning to town proved to be challenging. We tried returning by the secret entrance, through all the traps. We discovered that our stupid high priest had a death wish as he tried to kill him self. After save his hide and knocking him unconscious we get to the secret entrance and it won’t open!!! We go back through all the traps and then we has to explorer the old abandon mines in the mountain to find an exit, which left us out in the Stonelands. At least it only took like two days to get back and everything when fine. Except that platoon of solders waiting to apprehend us! Great after all that we get arrested, at least I had the forethought to discuss our situation with my colleague and got them thinking in the right way to present our little adventure. So we have a good story ready for the Purple Dragon commander. Remember; always have an out for every situation. And thank god he humored us and let us shows him the secret temple. That got us off the hook!

What an utter disaster; could we have done this with any less style! Mental note, we may still have all our skills, but with these idiots I definitely need to plan our city capers!

On the Road

By The Mouth

So we’re back free in town (and having survived Rashek’s loss of another daughter) with way too much attention on us. So I propose that it would be an excellent time to go rescue Rashek’s daughter in the Thunder Peaks. So we travel a few days and suddenly we hear a scream. And we’re off to what ended up being another hair-raising adventure! So we spur our mounts on another 50 feet and find some villagers being attacked by some kind of burrowing critter. Ah, after what we’ve been through, noooo problem. Except that ankhegs are seriously scary!!! Especially when they start dragging you under ground. We almost lost the Fey to them. Now, I know she’s whiny and a pain in the ass to have around, but she’s also easy on the eyes and, now, miss independent owes us for saving her. After killing them, I alone braved the awful warrens of these creatures to rescue any survivors they could have taken. There were unfortunately no survivors, but I slew half a dozen more of these creatures in their lair and saved the thorp from any furthur attacks.

Ceremonies and a Tower
Another boring DM synopsis
  • On its way back to the Seven Pillared Hall, the party encountered a group of Bloodreaver hobgoblins toying with a halfling prisoner.
  • The party saved the halfling, but, in the process, the Healer perished.
  • The halfling is Rendill Halfmoon, a member of the family that owns the only inn in the Hall: The Halfmoon Inn.
    • As a reward for saving him, the party was invited to stay at the inn free of charge for as long as it might need to.
    • Rendill also proved to be a source of valuable information about the Hall, highlighting the major sites and some needed contacts: Phaledra, cleric of Torm (for the raise dead); Gendar, owner of Gendar’s Curios and Relics (main information broker) and Terrlenn Darkseeker, ex-Purple Dragon Knight, best underdark guide in town.
    • Rendill indicated that the Bloodreavers hang out mainly in the Chamber of Eyes, a series of room within the labyrinth.
  • Hearing how the party saved Rendill, Phaledra agreed to raise its fallen members for the standard price (500 gp, also known as all the party’s money), but also offered to take 20% off if it helped her deal with a monster problem plaguing the few honest merchants coming to the Hall. The group agreed and she provided the relevant information.
    • The Seeker offered to help out with the raise dead rituals. Prompting Phaledra to shave another 10% off.
  • Gendar, a drow, knows about the mark the goblins bear, but will only provide that information if the party engages in some treasure hunting for him. He’s looking for non-magical relics hidden in some of the labyrinths more dangerous rooms, particularly the Court of Bones.
    • Gendar also wishes the party to retrieve an item that the Duergar from the Glimmerzhûl Trading Post stole from him in the underdark.
  • Terrlenn, a human, originally agreed to serve as the party’s guide for 10 gp/day, but reduced his price to 8 after the Mouth convinced him that the group is, like him, only trying to do its part in the fight against evil that the Purple Dragons abandoned in the name of petty politics and power plays.
    • Rendill mentioned and Terrlenn confirmed that he has recently lost a few expeditions. However, these disappearances were always accompanied by memory blanks.
  • Unsatisfied with the information available to him at the Halfmoon Inn, the Mouth decided to visit Rothar’s Taproom, a decidedly low-rent and unwelcoming establishment, with the Guardian to watch his back.
    • Unfortunately, after some Duergar (read “evil dwarves”) disrespected him, the Guardian started a bar fight by literally spitting in someone’s face.
    • Worse, when he realized that he had picked a fight with a creature whose natural unarmed fighting capabilities greatly outmatched his own, the Guardian took a swing with his hammer.
    • Regrettably, he did this in front of Brugg, the Mages of Saruun’s captain of the guards, the ogre who had warned the party not to cause any trouble and not to bother him in any way, who was then forced to intervene and throw the troublemakers, the Guardian and the Mouth that is, out.
  • The next morning, the party chose to solve Phaledra’s problem first as it theoretically only involved talking to a witch and convincing her to keep some of her pets in line: quick, painless and profitable enough to pay for Terrlenn’s services on its way to the Chamber of Eyes.
    • Feeling unwell, the Seeker chose to remain with Phaledra and discuss rituals.
    • Terrlenn unfailingly guided the party to the witch’s lair: the Tower of Sunset. The structure sits on a crag jutting out from the Thunderspire and can be reached through the labyrinth.
    • Denoa the witch, a Shadar-Kai, uninterested in conversations, set her minions, 2 homunculi and a shadow mastiff, onto the group as soon as they walked in. A, somewhat long, but captivating fight ensued in which she was revealed to have gargoyle allies, likely the creatures that had been attacking the merchants.
    • The party defeated the monsters and, for its trouble, found treasure, including a +2 wand which was given to the Fey.
  • While returning to the Seven Pillared Hall, the party discovered the source of Terrlenn’s blackouts when he turned into a werewolf and attacked them. The party quickly subdued him, ridiculously quickly in fact.
    • Told of his curse, Terrlenn was able to put two and two together and connect his problems to an artefact he found some days ago in the House of Silence, one of the Labyrinths many mysterious locales: the House of Silence.
  • Finally, the group made its way to the Hall and that’s where we left it.
Prophetic Ramblings
The Guardian's "Who"

This interlude takes place on the evening you spent in the Stonelands after leaving the caves which connected to the temple to Cyric, before returning to Eagle Peak. As indicated at the time, the next morning, the prophet had left your camp, leaving no trace, and each of you had a bit of a short memory blank in the middle of your watch. This particular memory returns to you at dinner following your next return to the The Seven Pillared Hall.

It’s a nice night to be camping outside and the valley cuts off the worse of the weather. Thankfully, what breeze remains is sufficient to drive off the smell of the madman you and your allies picked up in the forgotten thane under Eagle Peak. It’s hard to believe that, only one week ago, you woke up in a cave without a clue as to your identity and that, in such a short time, you were held prisoner, targeted by goblin assassins, guests in an orcish camp and witness to a beheading. Frankly, if this is in anyway related to the type of person you were before the incident, it’s no great surprise that you lost some of your marbles or, as the dwarves say, some of your marble.

As you ponder these thoughts, the mass of tattered blankets that is the elven prophet sits before you and looks deep into your eyes. No, that’s not right. He looks beyond your eyes, appearing to search for something inside your head. As you start lifting your weapon to encourage him to give you a wide berth, a crown of black flames sprouts from his brow and he speaks in the same imperious voice he used before, transfixing you: “Hear me once more, Ebon Spur.” You feel a frenzy in the back of your mind. That small part of you that panicked on that faithful day, launches itself at whatever barrier is keeping you from your memories with renewed vigour. The voice continues: “It is within my power to free you from your mnemonic incarceration, this paltry prison cannot prevent me from reaching into the mind of my champions, but, despite your latest exploit, I choose not to. Certainly, while posing as a servant of that miserable Amaunathor, your actions did me honour, but to be caught in such a feeble trap does not become my flock… Perhaps, if you redeem yourself, I might be tempted to point you in the right direction… A test:

Below quicksilver peak
Rescue the grizzled beast
A single key, two sheep astray
Two failures, one reward
Administer or admit
Carry these words
Orontor doubts

Like others before them, these words will flee your mind, but, fear not, they’ll return at an appropriate time…”

As madness returns to the poor meat puppet so does the familiar refrain: “Forgive the forgotten, forget the forgiven, you forgot and I forgive in the fog…” The previous words forgotten, you swat the annoying man away and return to your watch.


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.