DM Pookie's Events

[Aleilsum]

Deep in the mines, a human man was fighting with the power of Helm in his right arm and an ornate shield in his left, only his calm watchful gaze visible behind the full helmet. At his side was a tall thin elf, blue tinged skin and terribly scarred. Far down in the mine's depth they fought, the Helm knight hunting for ore that was badly needed by the smiths of Baldur's Gate.

They rested a moment, wiping the landlobster-ichor off their swords on the fallen bugbears' clothing. There was a skittering and a scratching and both their heads snapped aorund, their swords rising.

What was this? not what they expected

A shin high little thing all green scales and bright unreadable eyes, flickering tail and little hisses, hopped around them sniffing at the fallen bodies, hesitating, drawn towards and repulsed by them both.

The elf looked at the Helmite warrior. It was a lizardfolk babe. Tiny. Very, very lost.

They were a pest but somehow he couldn't kill it. And by his gaze, the Helm warrior agreed. They both sheathed their swords - clearly the little thing recognised them - and tried to swipe it up in their gauntletted hands. No go, it was far too fast.

However ... with meat from their packs it began to follow them. It was starving. 'How long has it been down here, I wonder'.

Thinking a little regretfully of ore and chests, the two looked at each other and headed up. The little one hopped and bounded from rock to shadow, shadow to rock. By one door, he or she ran over to the Helm warrior and hugged his rough leather boots. Hiding laughter, the elf bit back comments about the Helm warrior becoming a daddy, in case the human didn't appreciate it. He knelt, opened his leather backpack. Attracted, it scampered over and dived in. He swiftly did up the drawstring and put it back on, the backpack now heaving and wriggling oddly. Passing other ore hunters they headed up safely enough to the surface.

There, they heard the sound of enranged and oddly mournful bellowing. Looking at each other, it was clear that the little fellow and the hissing shouts were connected. Heading there, two great Lizardfolk were there. It was hard to tell with such primitive beasts which was the mama and which the papa, but one of the two glared at them with ferocity. Quickly the elf undid the backpack to let the little one hop out. ... also releasing the smell of frightened-lizard poo. He held out the little one to the lizardman? woman? heading towards them. It scooped it up outraged, though at least it didn't attack, and the little one turned its head up to the great one, tongue flickering out in somethign surely resembling gladness. They turned and lumbered off with their surprisingly swift bouncing gait.

The elf and the Helm warrior looked at each other, shrugged, smiled a little. The elf knelt to empty his smelly backpack and then the smile tugged at his lips again. In the horrible mess, there was a glint of something. He lifted up a brown-covered large gem, held it up, walked to the stream and washed it. A ruby! He grinned a moment. Well now, this was unexpected, what -had- the poor little thing been trying to eat down there?

But a nice little reward for getting it back to its mama and papa, both the Helm warrior and the elf agreed.


(( thanks DM Pookie (or Test) for this lovely little event! Really enjoyed it ))

[vidar]

Jorn got some bad grains from a shady merchant in Bergost, that caused his animals to be abnormaly big and shithing green poop.
I promised Jorn to look into it, and went to esgost to investigate. A hin who had got some of the same grain, and cooked it (hes friend ate it all and exploded, leaving gree goo all over the hut), was looking for the merchant too.
He was stabbed right before my eyes, while I was fighting off some others, and a shady being took him away.
Jorn told me he met the merchant in The Flaming Wizard, and as I and some other people went there we saw a bloody trail leading to the inn. I taked to the barkeep, and he sendt a msg to the merchant.
We was met by a guard who led us to a woman called Gemad, who said she had sold the grain to Jorn. After some talking, she gave us the name of who had sold her the grains, and we let her and the guards go. We burned whats left of the grains, and I went to BG to give a reoprt to the Fist.
She gave us the name Bathow, supposed to be a mage, and they used to met at the frost gigant pass..............thats where the story is atm

[HaberdasherofDoom]

To follow:

Picture all the other DM Rules here..

Also, will concentrate more on RP investigation and less on sticking your sword through something's stomach.

[HaberdasherofDoom]

Originally written by Teardrop:

It seems the Drow wizard commonly called Jaulk has been branching off his daily routine of gathering basilisk eggs and decided to go for more potent vermin like baby Carrion crawlers. The work is more difficult then fetching a basilisk egg and the pay just as good. Rumor has it that other ingredients might be involved, as well as gathering the eggs and baby crawlers but not confirmed as of yet. As for the Carrion crawlers their migration and breeding habits have brought in large make that Very large! Carrion crawlers these are not for a novice or week. The barkeep explains to you that 5 Souls plundered deep into the nesting grounds of the crawlers to seek out 4 baby crawlers not much is told about how this was accomplished but that the crawlers were as big as dragons with tentacles that would suck the life from you. Something was also mentioned about accidentally smashing a baby crawler but keeping that a secret from the Drow wizard. “You obviously can tell this story has been blown out of proportion” when you ask were the barkeep got his information he almost looks embarrassed as he tell you, a very drunk warlock.

[Aleilsum]

Part 1 by Father Tentih

Part I

Father Tenith walks slowly back to his church in the eastern area of Baldurs’ Gate. As for the past few weeks now more then 30 or so people are in the temple throughout the day. They are all keen to be getting lessons on reading and writing.

The bright brown eyes and deep reassuring voice of the priest had managed to move so many into giving up time to help. After just the first week all the servants of the church were busy with this new idea. It was about day five when they had to stop people coming in due to a lack of people able to teach.
This on the whole wasn’t too much of a problem. It seems that many people human, elf and even dwalf turned up to give time over to help. However the priest who had started it was not to be taking classes. It seemed to him that it was more important to be getting more and more teachers and it was clear that he did have a little skill in talking people into giving up some time.

He had however not be trying to get people to help this time. He had been called by his holy symbol, in that it had glowed brightly and then got brighter if he was travelling in the right direction. It didn’t happen very often but every now and again it would lead him to a fallen group of adventures or a sick family. So it would seem on the whole he didn’t waste time when it happened. It was odd though to be stood outside of the home of Sir Ness.

With a slow look at the large stately home it was clear that the several Fist officers stood at every exit were new additions. The drained face of the lead Inspector seemed highly agitated and near desperate to be somewhere else. The Inspector seemed happy to see the priest again and after some polite comments and introductions the man spoke in barely audible whisper. He wringed his gloves in his hand with pent up worry and concern and set about the task of explaining why they had summoned the priest.

It has been reported that the wife of Sir Ness had been murdered. Apparently a neighbour had come across the home and found the quite uncontrollable Sir Ness sobbing, wailing; and according to the now prime witness; confessing. As was understandable the Inspector was worried sick about the possibility for a cover up or that his Fist officers wouldn’t be able to hold up a torch and prove it was Sir Ness. With one final mention of the need to keep this quiet while the truth was found and that politics would be a constant trap for this case he left.
The Father turned to look at his friend Aleilsum a skilled swordsman who was for the moment protecting him from the possible contract on his life. He was glad he was there the elf was clear headed and thoughtful when things happened. He also didn’t rush to draw his sword or need to fight to control his anger.

As soon as they walked into the house you could smell the copper tint to the air. The house was lavish with well made expensive furnishing that covered every room.

A Sensitive Killing

Aleilsum held the older, spiteful, passionate woman in his strong grip, his sword by her side, long sharp edge from her shoulder to her knee almost. She'd be a fool to move and fool she was not, but she had lost her control now and might do anything. He hoped she'd take the hint.

Father Tenith, a man he had great respect for, was talking in a low impressive tone to a just-still-young, handsome, sobbing man. The Father, a most compassionate man with a spine of steel, was both understanding and really rather firm.

Another young girl was crying in a corner. A Fist guard, this one less anonymous than most with his helm off and on the table, was regarding both the women with professional and suspicious distance.

There was, startlingly, a dead snake lying on the floor, a new and still bloody woman's dagger at Aleil's waist. The ragged one eyed man who had not taken time to bath had discovered much here that was wrong, thanks to his sharp eyes. He was gone now, but had been quick and clever.

He looked around. This rich, noble house was a shambles. The pretty marble floors, the fine inlaid tables, the rich hangings concealed lust. Much lust. Lust for women, lust for power in the writhing woman held firmly against his plate armour, lust for a man in the young girl in front of him. Lies, deceit, treachery and murder. Not one of the women was a murderess; both were. He wondered what the Father thought. He was a strong man and experienced. He had faith that the Father would deal well with what happened. He looked at the snake on the floor, sniffed the scent of the snake's hair against his torso.

She had wanted the man, the nobleman, the Sir. She wanted his title and wealth. And she had arranged a killing for it …. the snake. Carried in her bag, most likely. She had been a cool and icy woman. He wanted her offbalance but she was now impassioned. He thought this might turn nasty … nastier than it was already with the sad, horrible thing at their feet.

A woman, young, well formed but horrible. Her body ended at the neck. Her head was severed, removed by the soft young thing in front of them, sobbing wildly that she did it for him, all for him. The creature in his arms sneered and writhed. Her body was stabbed, over and over. Poor little noblewoman. She had been in the way of both of them.

It was a good thing the Father's symbol had glowed … he supposed. It had interrupted something. But still this man would have been hung for his innocent wife's murder if not for the Father's response to the call. She was the only innocent one. The man had fecked his way around the house it seemed, and not openly as civilized folk shared their loving. No, he had lied and cheated and made promises.

Bah. They were all pitiful, all four of them, from the drugged and poisoned, stabbed and de-headed girl to the murderesses to the man.

This was a mess. The Fist had been nervous of intervening; to hang a noble would not be popular, or possibly all too popular. Either way, they needed their distance. So the Father fo the Temple of Tyr, an unimpeachable man, had been called. At least now the truth had been found out, they could hand the mess over to the Fist and leave.

Suddenly, the impassioned woman in his arms turned and screeching, attacked him. Instinctively with such a dangerous creature, his sword arm rose, fell. He looked at the bleeding newlydead, shrugged almost indifferently, wiped his sword on her skirts. Better this way perhaps. He walked over to the Father, glancing at the noble near-indifferent to his distress. That one needed to lie less about where he was putting his pecker.

“Come on Father – spoken mildly- Lets leave this to the Fist now”.

But the disaster was not over. The little girl, new in her fulness of body, new in her passion and crime, ran over to the noble and wailed how it was all for him, all for love of him. He, the fine upstanding man, looked at her with disgust and horrified, she picked up the severed head and astonishingly, jumped for the window. He went, looked out. On the pavement below, the Fist on guard were congregating at the small sagging limp figure below. He shook his head the Father, blue hair shifting and sliding over his mail, catching a little.

“nay, tis over. Let's be gone”

It was a grim day's work. He strode with the Father away, to cleaner air.

(( lovely little event that demanded a touch of thought and lots of interaction. Really enjoyed it. Thanks Pookie, Father Tenight and Bernard Sbach!)

[HaberdasherofDoom]

Originally Written by Talon

By Selas n'I Trepxe (BG63)

Recently a ship from Amn loaded with supplies for the re-building of Nashkul crashed on the South Coast. There were few survivors to tell the tale, most of the building supplies were lost, causing delay in the plans for Nashkul.

Investigators at the scene interviewed a few of the survivors, but they were in sorry state of health and did not provide much valuable information. Investigation is on-going into these matters. If you have any details on this matter please contact my-self or one of the investigators please.

It was deciphered that the hull of the ship was magically blown apart by some means causing the ship to founder before making it to port! The survivors and washed up dead had burn marks on them as well showing signs of the strength and severity of the detonation.

[Rask]

Supplies, running to Nashkel were intercepted by an unknown party at the docks, and swapped out for hollowed out fakes and crumbling trash. A man was murdered, crushed under a box, the rope of the winch cut! What do do about this? The investigator called on the aid of a few souls. Selas, the gnome, Teal the halfling Scout, Alrendel the Black Archer, and Aleilsum the elven knight to lead them.

The team came away with nothing, other than another corpse, and many more question. Finding only another man, on the verge of death from Lotus Poison saying the words "Damn cowled ones, shouldn't have trusted them.." before succumbing to his killers. Cowled ones? Could these events be linked to the Shadow Thieves of Amn? Here, inside the Gate? What is there interest in Nashkel?

Questions, yet to be answered.

[HaberdasherofDoom]

UD Event : Intelligent Ghols

Write up to be provided by players - eventually.

[HaberdasherofDoom]

Laying the Dead to Rest

Write up to be provided by Bull Battle Horn

[HaberdasherofDoom]

The Momma Wolf and Pirates

Write up to be provided by players.

[HaberdasherofDoom]

Of Acting, Shipwrecks and Sweaty Men pt 1

as reported by Selas n'I Trepxe

Investigators: Robin, Midian, Selas, Tomar of Scar. (sorry if I missed someone).

Another call from Inspector Klost, seems something is amiss on the docks again, a ship is heading to Amn and is likely to be a target. Our goal is to check out the cargo and somehow make it on board to journey to Amn keeping an eye on the cargo.

We made our way to the docks and managed to disguise ourselves as deckhands. We entered the warehouse and convinced the dock foreman to let us load the ship to Amn. Robin and Tomar did most of the sweating, flexing their muscles while Selas kept a good beat going on his drum, to help with the drudgery. Thanks to Tomar for the good idea *Selas grins to himself*, Tomar and Robin did most of the grunt work! *laughs*

Due to a good stroke of luck (or was it planned *Selas grins to himself*), one of the boxes got dropped and smashed open, the goods bound for Amn were water damaged! Now why are they shipping damaged goods... ? We decided to continue and see our way on to the ship...

Upon loading the last of the shipment, and as the rest of the crew were leaving the warehouse, Selas managed to trip conveniently in front of the Dock Supervisor in the warehouse, and tried to extricate some papers that the Supervisor had for the shipment from his hip pocket...

Unfortunately, not that good at doing that sort of thing, but it seemed like a good idea at the time...

...Rather than risk being caught, thinking quick, Selas hid his hand and the papers under his drum.

Luckily, was undetected, and moved out and on board the ship to Amn with the rest. Everything seemed to go smoothly and was rather looking forward to a journey to the southern trade partner, even amid the danger and problems.

After seeing the ship put out to sea, Selas cornered Midian on the deck and asked him to look at the manifests as they appeared to be doctored. Items had been scratched out and put down as lost, but the shipment seemed intact. Meaning that the water damaged goods must have been switched with the intact goods or somehow sabotaged.

After discussing things among ourselves and deciding something "fishy was going on", we were looking around on deck when a fire broke out! A cry for all hands on deck, "man the bilge pumps and buckets", rang out....

No sooner was this said than the fire raged out of control, thanks in small part to Midian's quick thinking "Gust of Wind" to put out the fire! 'Cousre it might of worked but the fire seemed to spread almost magically. At this point there was not much choice or time but to jump ship.

Tomar and Robin had noticed someone suspiciously leaving the scene of the fire, followed them and then the bloke jumped in a lifeboat and made haste, lowered the life boat and paddled away while everyone else was in dis-array! The escape artist smiled wickedly at us as he made his get away!

Last thing Selas remember's of the sorry events was jumping over board and seeing the water rushing up, with a rather large piece of flaming board aimed directly at his head, then everything went dark!

(to be continued)
Part II - Of Acting, Shipwrecks and Sweaty Men - Shipwrecked!

[Tomar of Scar]

//ooc: My desire to write is there, but it often takes me time to write a convincing story - This canon describes the events leading after Rask's write up on November 10th and in conjuction with Sela's write up Wednesday November 18th. Work in progress...

Passage to Amn



Prologue:

His sword lashed out once again ringing on brittled bones of the undead horde as they eagerly clawed and scratched at him, looking for every opportunity to land a hit on him. “How much longer!”, He yelled to the others. A swipe caught Tomar on his side and he shrugged off the pain as he returned the hit with another swipe of his sword, cleaving the arm at the elbow. ”We are working as fast as we can!” replied Selas. Selas and Midian worked franticly trying to repair the small life boat which now layed severly damaged on the beach with many sections of the craft splintered and broken. A small group of undead now broke away from him and began going around, making their way towards the two repairing the ship. “I have them!”, yelled Ceasen. “Stay your ground Tomar!, I will handle this group!”. Tomar’s sword slashed and punctured the undead, yet with each hit, they did not back down or diminish their attack. Falling into himself, Tomar called upon the power of his deity and an aura of brilliant white holy energy flashed to turn the undead. Many of the undead fell destroyed in that instant while a few turned in fear, but others quickly rushed in and continued the assault on him. In the distance Tomar could see what seemed to be an entire town of undead coming to life and eagerly making their way towards them. “Torm see us through this night…”

Introduction:

The sun was shinning brightly in the morning sky, the warm glow warming the earth and giving way to small patches of morning fog as Tomar strolled out from Baulder’s Gate. He had recently left Malt’s shop and had promised to do the owner a favor in collecting a shipment of items from Beregost. Simple enough, and it would give him an excuse to get an early start on the day and see what adventure could be found.

Paying his respects to the Farmers as he walked along his way, he quickly came across a group of adventurers speaking with a well dressed gentleman on the side of the path. “I’m a representative of NTE”, replied the Gnome. “I want to make sure that this gets resolved quickly inspector.”

“I need to have a group that is impartial to this investigation!”, replied the inspector. “It will not due to have you come along as this will be perceived as a biased report.”

“Greetings, I am Tomar of Scar, Paladin of Torm. Is there anything I can be of help with?”

“Ah,a Paladin, yes. You can take the gnome’s place to complete the group.” Quickly cutting off any response from Tomar, the inspector continued, “Now listen closely all of you. You will need to secure passage on the ship travelling to Amn. I expect that you will figure out a way to do that. I will await news of your travels in town. Contact me if you find any information regarding the missing ships.”

Giving Tomar a dirty look, the Gnome left the group and proceeded towards the Gate muttering curses under his breathe. The inspector also followed.

“Greetings Tomar”, replied one of the adventurers with a smile. “I am Selas n'I Trepxe”. Selas was a Gnome that wore simple clothing and a hat. On his hip he had a drum which indicated his interest in music. “That one’s Midian”, pointing to who appeared to be a wizard in a dark hooded robe who nodded to Tomar.

“A..And… I..I am Robin”, stutured an Elf bearing a heavy axe and animal skins. Tomar politely bowed and smiled to each of them.

The group proceded into town discussing in low tone the task that the inspector had left them. “How are we going to get on the ship?”, asked Midian.

“Perhaps we could dress as deckhands and offer to help out on the ship. Ships are often in need of deckhands”, replied Tomar.

“Aye, good idea Tomar”, replied Selas. “That may very well work.”

“Do we have a wizard in the group?”, asked Tomar. “A ships captain would kill to have a wizard along on his ship.” Wizards were often employed and at a good price as their magic allowed them to increase the winds for the sails and fight off pirates should they dare to attack.

“I am of the sort”, replied Midian.

“Then it is settled, we will dress as deckhands and travel with Midian as his body guards.” Everyone nodded in agreement and proceded to make their way towards the docks.

///OOC: I will allow Sela’s write up to cover the events from the docks until the fire. Great job Selas with the write up by the way.

Of Sweety Men and Acting 2...The People of the Seal


His coughing finally woke him from his sleep as his lungs burned and the gritty taste of sand and sea water filled his mouth. The sound of the waves violently crashing against the shore assaulted his senses. Slowly Tomar opened his blurry eyes. It was dark out, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the night. Before him was the once massive ship, burnt and splintering itself against the rocks as the waves barraged the vessel relentlessly. It was damaged beyond repair and broken pieces of chared drift wood littered the beach. He noticed the life boat that they had made their escape on, badly damaged laying on its side on the beach. The memory felt all so far away, as if he had dreamed it if not for the sight before him. He heard a groan from behind him. As he turned he saw Midian on the ground, but the man was still breathing. He groaned in pained as he lay there. Tomar willed himself to stand and to clear his thoughts. His body protested but he managed to stand and move to Midian’s side.

“Are you alright?”, he said as he shook Midian’s shoulder. Midian began to cough up water and rolled over on his side.

///ooc - Its becoming increasingly clear to me that is much more simple to write in the narrative than in story. I'll be switching back and forth between the two or this one story will turn into a five page saga.

Narrative:

Tomar, Seles, and Midian awaken to discover they have been shipwrecked on an unknown island. At once, Tomar can sense an evil emanation coming from the area, but is unable to tell the source of the evil. Searching the area they discover a few dead deckhands from the ship laying on the beach, but one of them is still alive. Reviving Ceaden with a few healing spells and healing potions they are soon met by a child skipping and laughing along the beach. She begins speaking in riddles to them about how they have been shipwrecked. Aggrevated by the constant riddles that the girl speaks, Ceaden tries to reach out to grab a hold of her arm and his hand passes through the girl as if she was an apparition. Tomar deduces that the girl must be a lost soul that is bound to the place for some reason. She informs them that she has been looking for her brother who was taken away to a town beyond a cave nearby but that she can not come with them to help. She pleads for them to help her brother and says that the town may have the items they need to repair their wrecked life boat.

The group heads into the cave which in turn leads exiting the cave outside on the other side of the cave. Daylight was already underway when they exited the cave. Tomar could still feel a strong evil emanation coming from the area. The path lead them up a steep path up a mountain which plateaus at the top. Strange Lights and energy could be seen coming from the area, and the faint sounds of chanting can be heard.

Once at the top, the group discovers five figures standing on the points of a circle, standing around an open book that sits on a stone pedestal at the center. The book is glowing in magical energy and flips from one page to the next on its own accord. Standing next to one of the figures is a boy who struggles to escape the grip of the person holding him.

Tomar walked up to the figures and asked what is going on there, but the figures simply ignored him. Seeing the boy, Tomar tells them to release the boy. The figures begin to speak one by one in riddles saying that the Seal has stood for countless time and that we should not interfere. The boy continued to struggle to be free and Tomar now demanded that they release the boy, while drawing his sword. The figures always talking in riddles told Tomar that they would not fight him, that he be clear in his demand and if he was certain they should release the boy. Tomar re-affirmed his demand. As the boy was released, he smirked and evil grin and walked away from the figures towards the path down the mountain. The figures then spoke to the group telling Tomar he was a fool to interfere in breaking the seal which had stood for countless milenia as they each in turn begin to fade into the ethereal. The last figure then tells them they would soon learn of the their folly when the people of the town awoke.

As the last figure disappeared, the book flew out from its pedestal and began flying around the group. As it flew past Tomar it began to hit him a few times before it finally flew off into the night. As the glowing energies of the area began to fade, a gate just beyond the pedestal now came into view. Looking through the gate was a city in the distance. The gates clicked open and stood partially open in the now setting sun. It was obvious to them all that they should complete their business and return to repair the life boat as quickly as possible.

More to come -

[ragnarok1983]

Caedis Praedurum
Responsible for Security on the Vessel

[HaberdasherofDoom]

Irone THrone Investigation

Midian, Rayne and others. Write up pending

[HaberdasherofDoom]

On Red Spots on a Map

Midian, Berviar (spell casting dwarf), Air Gensai, Wyrd, other PCs. Write up pending.