# Chronicle of the Whithered Seas - A Baron's Log



## Stryde (Nov 2, 2006)

...The past several days have bled together like an angry fresh wound.  As what remains of the wizard circle beneath me powers it’s blinding flash, I am reminded that where it takes me shall be a new beginning in this logbook.  Uncertainty clouds my thoughts so fully for the first time in my life.  Although I carry with me my betrothed and a contingent of my most loyal servants, I leave far too much behind.

This continuing account of my life has a new beginning.  One that I hope to look upon in days to come with a sense of accomplishment and content.  This is not one of those days.

Brevity has never been one of my shining attributes, nevertheless, I shall attempt such as I recount my time.  I am Brant Dracos, Baron among a handful of baronies of the grand kingdom of Argensloft.  Being raised with a modicum of humility, I will only touch lightly on the subject of myself.  I am human amidst monsters.  My female colleagues would tell you that I am quite appealing and hold a statuesque, warrior’s manner.  I have always prided myself in my youth for being learned in the ways of court and war.  My tastes are fine, if not slightly dulled by my time within the revered Queen’s monstrous armies.  Having seen twenty three winters, my prime age has just begun, much to the chagrin of my now-hated uncle.

Mind you, even though the company of abnormal beings within Argensloft is somewhat commonplace, a human amongst the denizens does not leave me with ill-mannered dreams.  My blood holds a dark secret which most who face me learn to fear.  Passed down from my great, great grandfather’s time, every male in the Dracos family line has revealed the traits of the _were_.  Not just any run-of-the-mill lycanthrope, mind you, but that of the noble dire wolf.  It has been lost the how’s and why’s this occurrence began, but it has been recorded that this is one reason we, the blessed, have been granted the gift of nobility.  We die hard and slow.

As the teleportation particles trickle before my eyes and disperse as so much dust on the wind, the floorboards beneath my feet creak from the weight of I and my contingent.  Having been through much just to follow me thus far deserves proper introduction on their behalf.  A man clad in armor stands with his back before me, alert as our surroundings change before our very eyes.  As an Aasimaar, he stands tall and justly like his race, but that is where his likeness to his kin ends.  My family ‘received’ this person at an early age, before his own people could shroud his thoughts with ideas of _righteousness_ and _compassion_.  Loyal and faithful of my command, he follows as my betrothed’s personal guard and my sword bearer.

At my side, a human woman gently tightens her grip on my arm.  Countess Lola Von Stroker, magi and Archmage aspirant.  Her glamour is only surpassed by her keen intellect.  I can see her look of derision toward the wood framed vessel which materializes around us, and, dare I write, a hint of fear?  A grin slips over my mind as I recall her insidious and deceptive idea this was in the first place.  I’ve never met another woman with such a studious, curious and manipulative nature.  My love.

On our sides I’ve placed two tieflings, both to be trusted only by me.  Delia D’Marko, a voice as sweet as hers I’ve not heard before.  Her gifts in study, rumor, combat and uplifting tall telling have made her a requisite to any incursion I’ve overseen.  A fine conversationalist, that one.  Dart Caustic, not worthy of my noble gaze, happened to be one of my finer markswomen amongst my castle guard.  Both women can be noted by strange inverted joints on their lower legs and several markings around their faces.  Delia’s seem to accentuate her beauty much more ably than Dart’s.  It should be noted that they hail from the same village, some days ride east of my castle.  I must look into the name of that village; there may be more skill to recruit.

At the rear flank stands a human female around the same age as myself.  That would be the only similarity I can mark.  A fiery mane of red hair reflects her bloodshot eyes and crazed gaze which only warns all of the twisted nature of Sardi Col.  Apprentice to the castle torturer, she delights in all manner of pain toward others.  She has a unique talent of which not even the Countess understands.  You see, she harness’s strange mystical energy and unleashes it wherever she pleases, scorching any that cross her path.

Our pack animal stands at my right, hauling all of our necessary goods.  It is by my grace that I even mention this human male, Shmee Mgee.  A man of many trades, he is truly an expert at what he does.  Work.

My ink well is all but bare, I must recall mister Mgee to fetch more.  The recounting of this beginning has just begun...


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## Stryde (Nov 2, 2006)

...The taste of salt plays on my tongue and nose as steady crashes of harmless waves slap against a wooden hull.  Daylight pierces a smattering of clouds far above unfurled sails.  A wave of nausea passes over me as the spell comes to completion.  Many humanoid beings surround us on the upper deck in a state of shock.  I hold a gaze of appraisal on my surroundings that brokers no nonsense nor unease.  I hide my ill feeling as the vessel lofts from side to side at a fairly consistent rate.  I realize now the folly of this idea, I’ve never been to sea.

An alarm blares for battle stations as the denizens of this ship struggle to break the surprise of their panic-ridden brains.  I make a motion for Sir Bright to call for the commander of this vessel and he does so as eloquently as he possibly can.  “Take us to your leader!”  Imbecile.

They have drow onboard.  Good.  One responds to the greeting with a snide remark I choose not to remember and then complies.  I have not commanded my men and women to draw weapons yet, though I regret not going into the teleportation already having done so.  A monstrosity towers over us that I can only describe as “Minotauresque”.  Blue scales covering his hide and a snout horn only demonstrate that my coin purchased some wizard’s idea of a good time.  I hope it doesn’t eat the knight.

Several moments pass as the crew assembles a semblance of readiness.  I catch a glance at several winged fiendish types, some elves aside from the drow, one having longer and nastier teeth than usual, and goblinoids, most likely deck hands.  A man approaches my knight’s call as the large beast prepares for combat with a look toward this new arrival.  “The Baron Brant Dracos and Countess Lola Von Stroker request the presence of the captain of this vessel!”  Sir Bright, ever vigilant in the face of a mighty adversary.  <Groan>

Pleasantries were quickly made as this man clad in light armor introduced himself as Captain Xavier of the Setting Sun.  As I began taking the conversation over from my servant, he handed me my blade to be easily replaced at my back.  I explained my position immediately to him and his crew to alleviate any hostilities they may take against us.  I own this ship.  Well, basically, I’ve placed the bulk of the finder’s fees, intelligence services and equiping costs down for all present here.  There were other investors in this endeavor which I need not mention to those present at this time.  I also explained to him that my retinue could be placed under the ship’s service if so warranted.  I made several easily accommodating demands which the captain promptly complied with.  Strangely, the Captain seemed not to reveal any sort of emotion or surprise upon my initial contact.

After meeting the command structure which included several unsavory types, they seemed malleable enough to allow for our abrupt arrival.  Only time will tell whether my currency has discovered a measure of competence.  I must make one note; a strange metal constructed humanoid was observed stalking the lower deck of this vessel, very peculiar.  Perhaps the Countess could remedy my confusion on that matter.

My wares placed in storage, I sought out the captain once again.  We had an almost pleasant conversation about their recent discoveries concerning the mission at hand.  The mission being a very secretive and dark one at that.  The retrieval of strong magic or the thwarting of those ahead of us grasping for it.  Having not the patience of recounting tales which held none of my involvement, I press forward to our next discussion.

Apparently, this crew came across a cache of aberration destroying weapons.  One of these weapons being quite haunted, has guided this ship to (or back to, I’m impressed) a small deserted island inhabited by dread illithids.  I’ve never faced a ‘mind flayer’, as they are called commonly, in single combat before and having learned of the challenge presented, I excitedly pronounced myself and my contingent toward this endeavor wholeheartedly.  I love nothing more than a grand challenge to hone and honor my mighty heritage.  Delia had better be taking notes.

The ship dropped anchor just off the island and began ferrying a landing party over to investigate the island.  It was then that I learned the minotaur had wings.  Amazing.  This creature lifted and flew with an ogre, who held onto my knight across the expanse to the island.  As I crossed the stretch to the beach, I watched the great blue beast drop them into the sand, literally, and then landed himself ready for battle.  As we neared shore, a horde of pesky kobalds, short and wiry humanoids weilding tiny spears and pointy teeth, made their presence known by slinging stones at us.  I’ve never seen such a pitiful and vast group of vermin before, and I certainly rued this day of extermination.  Such a waste of my lineage.  At this time, I let a great howl out as my body reshaped into a grand half-wolf half-man and drew my blade.

As combat was met, I waded into a flank of these revolting little creatures, swatting them aside tirelessly as more poured on.  I felt no need to wet my blade on these whelps and so let my claws and chops trounce them.  Smelling a difference in the air, I looked behind to see some of the ship’s crew yelp and freeze in place, most likely astonished by the sheer amount of these pitiful beings.  Turning back, I heard a shriek from a foolhardy crew woman ahead of me, too deep in the sea of foe.  A ball of flame shot through the air over to my right and decimated a score of the filthy little things.  Against my cruel nature, I felt my capacity to lead take over.  Letting out a howl of derision, I bowled over many of these kobald creatures to arrive at the fallen woman.  Easily lifting her to my shoulder, I hauled her back to the safety of the central landing party and returned to the flank.  And as quickly as it had begun, it was over.

Finally having a chance to observe my surroundings more fully, the kobalds remaining retreated into thick bush.  Apparently, the other flank was falling apart as the blue winged-minotaur and ogre had been frozen in a stupor.  Scores of broken kobalds lay around them as most assuredly they had destroyed them as I had.  And then it approached.  A humanoid came quickly toward us through the brush asking for our leader.  I quickly stepped up and claimed such, but stated that the captain of the vessel would be hailed.  This, thing, spoke to us through a purple tentacled maw in a dialect of common I have never heard.  It’s milky white eyes seemed to yank on my mind as I fingered my blade finally incase it thought better of itself.

The captain ferried across and with his aid I came to a diplomatic agreement of non-intercourse from this day forward.  Apparently, this thing had somehow disrupted the two large warriors and several of the other crewmembers, scaring them into such a decision.  We also claimed some spoils of victory by collecting ‘Mage’s Stone’ powder from this being.  I will write this for later perusal, I do wish to return and take what may be rightfully ours.  Unfortunately, we did relinquish the aberration destroying weapons as part of the deal.

Upon returning to the vessel, we took not one casualty in battle, which is a great cause for celebrating in my opinion.  I also learned that some sort of underwater force was ready to attack the ship at a moment’s notice.  Another thing I must remember, the ocean is not yet my element...


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## Stryde (Nov 14, 2006)

...Days pass.  Uneventful, dull and nauseating.  Exercise is a difficult chore onboard this crowded, swaying vessel.  Yet it is all I can do to keep my mind from the monotony.  The Countess spends her waking moments in constant study.  She has been kind enough to triangulate our location given the vast charts and maps the ship harbors.  I feel my reliance on her a weakness that I mustn’t reveal.  I try to study the movements and commands of this crew to better understand the ways of the seas.  I am ill too often.

Delia D’Marko fares well and is having a grand time spinning tales and receiving gossip which she calls “scuttlebutt”, a pirate’s term I’m sure.  Mister Mgee stays quite busy and seems right at home.  The others, however, are having just as much difficulty as I am having just keeping their balance.  I overheard Delia whispering to a drow that I have not yet obtained my “sea legs”, I have not made a formal request to retrieve these from the ship’s stores of yet, but I am under the impression that this object will be a great aid to thwarting my nausea and correcting my balance.

When I finally learn that we are to make port, I am overcome with a terrible bout of sea sickness that rivals Sir Bright’s balance issues.  As we pull in and shore up, I am forced to reside onboard and in a bout of fever, I command my retinue to stay aboard as well.

Another day passes and I am well enough to go ashore.  We are at a human settlement called Mogendrid.  I have heard of this place, though have never had any personal dealings here.  Not a place of particular interests, however they are noted to craft fine mundane weapons and are a part of the ‘Confederacy’.  As I ready my group for travel, I hear rumor of an attack against some of the crew just a day before.  Apparently, this port town does not tolerate ‘monsters’.  Well enough, I only allowed my betrothed and the knight to follow.  Xavier, the Captain, chose from his crew just as discreetly.  Thus far, I do approve of the Captain’s decisions, but I am still uncertain how he will take my guiding hand toward command instruction.  The metal construct, I believe is named Number Four, followed along with a gnome druid, a golden elf, and several other small folk who’s appearance have fled from my mind.  This was to be a day of shopping, much needed for the stores of my new home.

At least I felt more at home, let me put very little emphasis on the words _more_ and _home_, as general purchasing has never been a task I’ve desired to master.  We bartered and parlayed with the local flavor of these well-to-do simpletons for two days for all of our general necessities.  I made the request for ship’s funds to purchase much ale and wine to raise crew morale and was immediately granted a tidy sum to do so.  I know much of keeping an army fit and of good mind, and this is a requirement of any campaigning arrangement.  The Captain’s ears are not closed to my words, this is good.  The future our fledgling alliance is still uncertain, and a reception to my keen instinct is a step in the right direction.

Countess Lola Von Stroker brought us to the winery district to purchase the finest this port had to offer.  Word around town directed us to an excellent place, which she absolutely insulted after learning of their recent shortage of their premier beverage.  We had to settle for second-best.  Fine enough, I had not access to my accounts or pull this far from my home and this would have to do.

Having the grunts haul our cargo to the docks, we made ready to return to the ‘Setting Sun’ for nightfall.  Lola had not been this talkative since we had attended the Reliqurum ball in the Queen’s Court last Autumn.  The others around us, deckhands and such, listened on enamored.  At first this was refreshing, but after she settled on the particulars of a certain fellow nobleman making snide comments of my younger sister’s availability, I withdrew from the conversation as quickly as possible, making only slight comment to her narrative.  This was not the place to let my emotion take over the tone of banter.

As we reached the dock, Sir Bright seemed to falter with his heavy load, looking around for which boat to put it in.  I commanded him one with some annoyance.  That was when the scent of fresh blood filled my senses.  Lola turned to face me with a pale look, just before she was to board the boat tied to the pier.  A massive gash bled and pulsed with red entrails as she immediately looked down at her ruined stomach.  We were under attack.

The ambush was swift and most assuredly would be brutal.  The only angle my betrothed could have been attacked was from the small boat the knight was getting ready to load.  I bellowed out in rage as I saw the attacker balancing on the vessel behind her.  One of Xavier’s men jumped onto the ship and tried to unbalance this rogue, only to fall flat inside the craft himself.  The sneaky warrior had a great and bloodied axe in hand, balancing easily in the center of the boat.  It must be noted, in my training in my father’s hall of combat, I have excelled in the art of slamming an opponent down to the ground to be finished by my fine blade, no matter the strength or size of said opponent.  Drawing my weapon, I attempted this and dove for the rocking boat.  

Unfortunately, my balance is still not up to sailing standards (I simply MUST purchase some sea legs!) and I stumbled into the base of that accursed boat!  This jolting was enough to send the assailant water-ward, knocking him off and unarmed.  Well enough, I would deal with him later.

As I got up, I noticed the strong scent of foul death, fish and salt as I quickly looked about.  At the end of the pier, our would-be assailants writhed in agony as a putrid, greenish brown cloud clogged their eyes and throats with death.  A grim look covered the Countess’s face as her outstretched hand completed some sorceral incantation, no doubt the cause of this power.  Her stomach looked much better, healed magically somehow by one of our companions.  The fishy smell, however, came from right behind her.  A humanoid looking like a monster from the deep stood on the narrow pier, a devilish look in its eye as its hand shrouded in blackened energy tugged at my knight’s armor.

Sir Bright let out a weak gasp and let out a shaky cry of challenge to the beast.  No fear in that one, his sword arm drooped as he moved to strike the vile creature.  It’s green form ducked and swerved, easily evading his feeble swings and thrusts.  This fish-thing locked eyes with mine and let loose a bolt of blackened evil I would think to be some sort of dread necromancy.  I easily side-stepped the blast and began my transformation into killing machine, wolflord.  “Stand Aside!” I bellowed to the knight and others in my path to this doomed creature.  My voice had already changed drastically from the transformation, taking the others by surprise.

The knight, most likely confused from the vile magics done to him, did not obey and so I had no place in melee with our foe.  In the span of a moment, Lola disappeared from sight, but not scent, the small druid had changed into some sort of dog and somehow bent the wood of the pier downward where the hideous fish person stood, and the assailant I knocked into the water floundered for the pier’s edge right before my eyes.

As the monster from the deep disappeared underwater where it fell, I had but one enemy to deal with, that which was at my feet.  With a mighty downward thrust I slammed my bastard sword clean through the pier between the man’s fingers.  A narrow miss.  I heard him gulp and smelled the fear in his sweat.  Yanking my fine blade from the wood planks, I swung sidelong low and lifted the man from the water and through the air clear to the other side of the pier, a mighty wound crossing his armored chest.  He gave up immediately after calling for reinforcements that did not answer.

It was of the Captain’s better judgment to return our fresh captive with our supplies immediately as we awaited someone with some sort of authority to attend us.  He and I decided we would be the only members needing to stay, I sent my love off to be attended medically post-haste.  A human man claiming to be the harbormaster arrived with a small group of armed guard warily approached us.  Some minor squabbling on his part nearly cost him his life as he exerted his ego over the situation.  I could smell the fear in him, however, and did not oblige his death wish.

He gave us information of the involvement of a Temple to Hell in this assault.  My instincts spoke to me that we must overtake this unwanted shrine and find the culprit, punish them, and take anything that may assist our difficult mission.  Relaying this to the harbormaster provided us some reprise and recompense in the form of aid should we follow through with my idea.

Xavier suggested information gathering first, a worthy note, one that any warring party must undertake to succeed.  I volunteered my services to assist him as the Countess Mage looked in her historical and magical tomes for the nature of our new adversaries.  After some deliberation, it was decided that the crew of this ship was not organized and experienced enough for this undertaking.  Apparently, the majority of the crew have been suffering from boredom and being antsy since anchoring in port.  Ah, to be human among humans, I laughed inside.

The Captain assured me that our captive was properly tortured as we prepared for departure.  I explained to him that should I see the face of this unfortunate human again, he would be quite dead in that instant.  We left this strange city behind to follow our query, only to note it’s location on our charts for further consideration...


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