Dragonfall

Game #1 The Miller's Son and the Battle of the Undead Horseman

"log entry" "undead" "Miller" "Nectopos"

The story of our adventure begins in Ras’el, a small village huddled in the ancient wood of Sel’Vinia and my home for the past several years.

I remember the day well, when I, Alewynn, Bard of the Eladrin, and my companion Faleen of the Drow, were joined by the fierce Chisurah and Eildor Longstride. After a long morning discussing matters with the mayor, Faleen and I were on our way to acquire a much anticipated midday meal when we noticed the enigmatic couple. I welcomed the elf and half-human freely, despite my companion’s usual disinterest in such endeavors, and gave them the humble tour of our village. Though I was never informed as to the initial cause of their arrival to Ras’el, the two quickly became a permanent fixture to our party. I didn’t mind this much as they were pleasing company, if a little elusive with the details of their past. Things remained this way for several months even as the tension in the land rapidly increased.

The most pressing issue among the populace seemed to be the dark presence surrounding the old castle in the South. Nectropos by name and evil by nature, the fortress inspired fear in every whispered mentioning, believed by most to be haunted with ominous spirits. Terror crippled the heart of our small town and it soon became clear that the four of us would no longer be content with inactivity.

One evening, as we all shared a meal in the tavern, Eildor addressed the rumors, proposing that we investigate the truth of the matter. My companion readily agreed, though out of the search for truth or simply the thrill of an adventure, I cannot say. I was left to question the wisdom of such a quest, but in the end agreed to set out at first light with the others. We spent the rest of our evening in lively conversation with the barkeep who provided us with a bit of useful information. It seemed there had been reports of an attack on the outskirts of Ra’sel at a farm belonging to a widow by the name of Maya. The barkeep informed us that we could possibly acquire directions to her homestead by conversing with the Miller’s son, an older boy who might be able to help us for the right price.

The morning dawned bright, the day oblivious to the gravity of our quest, as we arrived at our destination. It was not long before we spotted the Miller and ellicited his help. He agreed on the condition that we assist in repairing his broken mill. He could not spare his son until the source of his livelyhood was up and running again. Of course, this was expected, and with our collaborated efforts and the expertise of the local carpenter, we managed to meet his terms. His son then accompanied us partway and provided us with the remaining directions.

It was at this time that we encountered the first of our supposed enemy. The forest was quiet as we traipsed through the brush; a brook babbled in the distance. All seemed well until I noticed Chisurah’s hand go to the hilt of her sword as her sharp ear picked out something I had not heard. Eildor was not far behind and slowly the whole group became tense with anticipation. Eventually I heard what my companions had caught. A rustling in the brush.. whimpering, frantic panting. Something or someone was moving toward us at a breakneck speed. Faleen and Eildor sprang forward, moving quickly toward the sound as Chisurah and I hid ourselves among the trees. After a few moments, we could make out a figure through the undergrowth. A bloodied man with crazed eyes, one mangled arm hanging limp at his side. He flew past Faleen and Eildor without a glance as they stepped out into a small clearing towards him. But soon the man would be the least of our worries. Faleen let out a shout as the hair stood on my flesh. I could sense it now.. a stench of something rotten. So decrepit and foul my soul recoiled in disgust. I could only wonder what kind of demon was nearby.

“There’s three!” Eildor shouted back to us. I could hear the sound of Faleen’s blade begin to cut flesh. Arrows from Eildor’s swift bow whistled through the trees. Chisurah darted left, I went right, and that’s when I saw it. A grotesque horse and rider heading towards me with ill intent. I let out a staggering note that slammed into the monster, sending putrid flesh spewing in all directions. The sound pushed the creature towards the others, providing a better opportunity to strike. The battle raged on as my companions struck again and again with ferocity and valor as I used the powerful magic of the warsong to deal a fatal blow. Chisurah used her blade to cut the last creature down, and a spray of pus and rotting innards fell over the whole lot of us. I stood trembling..horrified by the implications of the disgusting creatures when I noticed that Faleen sagged against a tree, nearly dead. I ran to him, gently placed my hand on his chest and began to sing a song of rest laden with healing magic. With eyes closed I could sense not only my own but the strength of the other travelers returning. I pulled away from Faleen, gave him a weary smile and suggested we move to the river to clean ourselves and recuperate from battle…

End of Log Entry I

Signed,
Alewynn of the Eladrin

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