West Marches at the Board N Brew

News of a giant harassing the village of Conyberry had spread, causing concern for the townsfolk. Seven of us set out from Tempered Vale: Aoris, Grognak, Mermur, Sedai, Tor, XIII, and myself.  When we got to town I followed the group to the local tavern, where we learned that the giant, known as Ergont to himself and Grizzleguts to the villagers, was being given offerings of food in return for leaving. Especially troubling in times like these, when supplies can be hard to come by.  Also troubling was the disappearance of a local hunter, Harlon Means, who was expected back from a hunt some time ago.  Aoris needed to resupply before we left and purchased a haunch of meat from a suspect butcher and a barrel of ale.  He is truly dedicated to his stomach. We set out from Conyberry along the east road, as a herd of caribou had been seen nearby.  If the townsfolk were hungry for caribou, perhaps the giant would be as well?  Besides, the tracks would make it ea...

Thirteenth of First Seed, 836 P.S. Halfling monk Mojo, the warlocks Echo and Sweet Summerchild, the druid Tulgey and new roguish tabaxi ally XIII, followed rumours of some kind of combat arena recently built in the woods south of Drellin’s Ferry. It was well-attended, hosting a ladder of challenges called The Gauntlet , and the mysterious “Lady Dagger” was involved in the management. Eager to test their skill (and to get close to the figure linked to the Reavers of Wrath kidnappings) , the party signed up under the team name of The Paper Street Soap Company . The Hateful Eight The floor of the arena was manipulated by a druid to form different terrain, trap, and obstacle features. Eight goblins made use of the plentiful cover, but were dispatched quickly. Daemon Daemonium The terrain was mostly cleared, save for a row of chevaux de frise style spiked barriers. A horde of maw demons rushed the party. They could deal out some major damage, but were relatively easy to hit, and th...

I mustn't get myself pushed back in fights I've got no business like when Haakon, XIII and Jyack plus Tordek got me in this: A scheme to save some gnomes, they said, by turfing a guy with ease. Haakon bested him once, he said, that "villain," Richter Mortise. Over the back wall we would go and catch these guys unawares. 🤫 That's where they were hanging out, though, so we were met with their glares. 😒 The thing about a kobold's life, and ev'ry kobold knows it: your indiscriminate demise is preached from ev'ry pulpit. We're "vermin," see, there is no doubt, or so say the "civilized." They seek us out, from homes they route, all their hatred undisguised. Yet in the snow, under moonglow, blood in my coughs and splutter, I prayed to Kurtulmak, you know, "Please save us stupid fuckers." We got ourselves in o'er our heads. Some sort of heroes were we? But I've no doubt n...