# Toric's Rise of the Runelords Story Hour



## Toric_Arthendain (Feb 15, 2008)

Rise of the Runelords Story Hour​
This will be my attempt to chronicle my Rise of the Runelords Pathfinder campaign in a loose story format.  My group meets every other Friday night for about five hours.  We've currently completed five sessions with a sixth scheduled for tonight.  As I am going back and attempting to cobble together the events of the first five sessions and my memory of exact events and dialogue is sketchy, especially for the first two sessions or so, most attempts at dialogue will be my own, inspired by my players and how they actually play their characters.  Only small amounts of the text is taken from the module verbatim, most of it is my own ad-libbing of the events as they occurred.  I am an average writer at best so my apologies in advance.

Spoilers abound so if you plan to ever play in a Rise of the Runelords campaign, avoid this story hour.

*The PCs*
Borgarm - dwarven Cleric (1) of Gorum
Semper - half-elven Paladin (1) of Iomedae
Thorin - elven Rogue (1)
Rein - Varisian Ranger (1)


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## Toric_Arthendain (Feb 15, 2008)

Four strangers arrived in Sandpoint just in time for the Swallowtail Festival and the consecration of the town’s new cathedral.  It was nothing less than a momentous occasion since the old temple burned to the ground five years previously, killing the town’s beloved priest.  The consecration was a way for the town to put the past behind them and look to the future.  

The dusty public square in front of the cathedral was filled with the tents of merchants hawking their wares and tavern keepers selling food and their best brews.  The festival got underway with welcoming speeches from several of the town’s luminaries including the mayor, sheriff, and Father Zantus, the local ranking priest.

Two of the strangers in the crowd, Borgarm, a dwarven cleric of Gorum and Semper, a half-elven paladin devoted to Iomedae, paid particular attention to Father Zantus as their respective orders had sent them to Sandpoint to observe the festivities.  Both had scoffed at the idea since the cathedral held neither a shrine to Gorum or Iomedae.  Nevertheless, their orders had sent them as ambassadors of their faiths, despite the lack of representation.

Another of the strangers observed the proceedings quietly, seemingly more interested in the crowd than in the speeches.  The elven rogue called Thorin made it a habit of being familiar with his surroundings and aware of what was going on around him.  He hadn’t stolen from any of the townsfolk gathered for the festival but that wasn’t really his way.

The last stranger, Rein, stood apart from the throngs of people.  The Varisian ranger was uncomfortable amongst the trappings of civilization and it showed in his demeanor and posture.  He regularly hunted the wilds around Sandpoint and often came to town to trade meat to the local taverns or to collect bounties on goblins and other foul creatures plaguing the area but he rarely stayed long.  Curiosity was the only reason for his visit this time.  The Swallowtail Festival marked the first day of autumn and this year was even more of an event with the consecration of the cathedral.  He was eager to see what the fuss was about.

At noon, Father Zantus and his acolytes wheeled a large covered wagon into the square and after catching his breath the priest began to recount a short parable of how Desna first fell to earth and was nursed back to health by a blind child who she turned into an immortal butterfly as a reward for her aid.  He then pulled back the cover on the wagon, releasing hundreds of swallowtail butterflies into the square in a burst of color.  Children spent the afternoon chasing the butterflies, always seeming to be on the verge of capturing one but never succeeding.

The local tavern keepers generously provided lunch free of charge to the gathered masses, competing to attract the most people to their tents in an epic marketing push to bring in new business.

As the sun began to set, the crack of a thunderstone signaled the beginning of the consecration ceremony and Father Zantus took the stage to speak the Prayer of First Dreaming.  Before he could complete the first sentence, chaos erupted…


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## Toric_Arthendain (Feb 15, 2008)

A woman’s high-pitched scream split the silence hanging over the beginning of the consecration ceremony.  That scream lead to another and then another.  The screams were quickly followed by shrill screeching and laughing that didn’t sound entirely human.  Moments later, a fast-moving, compact shape rushed through the square, giggling disturbingly and seconds later, a stray dog relaxing beneath the shade of a wagon collapsed with a yelp in a pool of its own blood, its throat cut from ear to ear.

Borgarm, Semper, Rein and Thorin, all standing nearby where they had planned to watch the consecration ceremony, sprang into action.  Spotting what appeared to be a goblin hiding behind a wheel of the wagon, they closed with the vicious little creature.  In the distance, the chanting of a strange song began, in the same shrill cackling voices heard following the first screams of the townsfolk.

“Yer an ugly one,” Borgarm growled as he brought his mace down on the goblin who stood licking the dog’s blood of his dogslicer.  The cobbled-together, dagger-like weapon cut the tongue of the goblin but it only cackled madly.  The mace struck a glancing blow but Semper hacked the nasty little beast with his longsword, nearly removing its head.

Before Borgarm and Semper had time to assess the situation Thorin reported, “Two more incoming.”

One of the goblins paused in his charge towards the heroes and leapt onto a table laden with food, skewering a slab of mutton with his dogslicer.  Plates and bowls were scattered across the table and onto the ground nearby.  The other goblin plowed ahead, not interested in the table.

Rein fired an arrow that caught the charging goblin in the throat, driving him backwards where he dropped to first his knees and then fell forward on his face.  The shaft protruded sickly from the back of the goblin’s neck dripping thick blood.  Thorin launched an arrow of his own at the goblin on the table.  It struck true, the shaft burying itself in the surprised goblin’s midsection.  It doubled over with a grunt and fell from the table.

Goblins appeared to be taking over the town.  They ran everywhere, cackling madly and slashing at anyone or anything that got in their way.  Before the heroes even had a chance to catch their breath, a bloom of fire appeared on the other side of the square.  All four had heard rumors of the bonfire planned for the evening after the consecration and could only assume that the fuel to be used for that had been discovered by the goblins.

The four heroes made their way quickly across the square…


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## cthulhudarren (Feb 15, 2008)

Thanks for doing this, I was wondering when a RotRL campaign would show up here.


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