The Legacy

Interview with a Dhampir

"Don't make me zombie... you wouldn't like me when I'm zombied."

Man, nearly a month since the last Adventure Log.

So, reappearing in some melting underground temple, Bearn and his party quickly beat feet and got the hell out. Bearn had no idea what was going on, but that’s normal enough. After getting back outside, some conversation went on regarding what to do now that we’d apparently been working for the bad guy. Eventually it was settled that we’d head back to Tharduul, to turn in the quest we’d finished, get paid, and work out our next course of action.

So, traveling. No problems until a few days in, but then we saw fires on the horizon. Given that we were days outside of any civilized area, it wasn’t a city. Advancing, we came across a nighttime scene of carnage; a vampire lord and his cadre of undead had apparently attacked a caravan. Two clones of The Hulk were also zombied nearby. Initiative post haste, good sirs!

Kemil tanked like a pro, marching right in with a sunrod lit, being a shining beacon of COME HIT ME. Theris also ran in and got himself mired in melee with The Hulk, getting smashed hard in the face. Baern stayed the hell away from combat, healing from afar and ineffectually trying to ranged attack. Ovias worked as a dwarven diplomat should, hackin’ and whackin’ and smackin’. Tempest, true to his class, mostly stayed back as well.

Things went smoothly enough to start. A few nicks and cuts from the hulks, and petty annoyance from the gravehounds, but nothing major. The vampire spawn bit it almost immediately, no pun intended. The primary concern quickly became the Vampire Lord, who flitted around the field with impressive mobility and also displayed an ability to dominate people, which is bad in a party with someone who can hit like Kemil. Thankfully the Symbol of Hope from Moradin nipped his domination in the bud.

The Hulks came back once each, taking a tremendous amount of damage to down, and everyone was down to at-wills by the end of the battle. Still, the group ultimately prevailed, without too many problems. After the battle, Bearn searched the rubble of the caravan for any survivors. Finding no bodies was worrying enough, but there was a dwarven woman there as well. Upon seeing Ovias, she screamed about ‘finishing the job’ and tried to run off. Good luck, woman.

After being figuratively bullrushed and lifted bodily from the ground by our minotaur, she became very passive and didn’t speak or try to break away. I guess she just figured that she was just a meal on the hoof. If Ovias was a different sort, she might have been right. In any case, she refused to answer questions. We still treated her well, and didn’t even bind her for the evening.

The next day, we continued on towards Tharduul. However, we quite shortly came across another batch of fires, though these were campfires for the hill dwarves. Camp. Fires. Not forging fires, because they suck and don’t settle long enough to build proper forges. What kind of shallow-dwelling skygazer lives outside anyway?

Sentries saw us coming from a distance away, and we released the useless peasant girl to run back to her brethren. She proceeded to do so, while our party quickly became surrounded by angry hill dwarves. In the distance, dueling banjos taunted us. The leader dwarf, whose name is not memorable, came forth and accused Ovias of leading attacks against the dwarven peoples, as his obvious vampiric ancestry matched the descriptions given by some witnesses. Ovias, having been gone for several months, didn’t really have any way to prove his innocence outright.

Thus began the skill challenge, trying to convince the dwarf to let Ovias go, giving us time to prove his innocence, or possibly just time to run off and not come back. The challenge went rather smoothly, despite a few bumbling attempts at diplomatic wording from a couple of party members. Finally, the dwarf sighed, and dismissed his sizable escort. He resignedly told Ovias that he valued him as a friend, and that it was sadly out of his hands, unless Ovias could cure himself of his horrible cross-breeding issues before the next moot.

He left a friendly note to the same effect also, unsigned.

Well, despite Ovias being in a poor mood, Baern suggested starting the search for a cure in Darsil. The travel there went smoothly enough, and boom, we were in a metropolitan city with time to shop. So shopping occurred, and lasted long enough to make further play impossible.

Session over.

Tune in next time for Exorcising The Better Half of You, or “The one in which Baern finds out that his parents were brother and sister and also demons and also the clergy hates him and he’s been secretly worshipping Gruumsh or something.”


\o/ My players are paranoid.

Interview with a Dhampir

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