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Player's Guide Places People History Beliefs


You Should See The Other Guy
I made up a song. Key? B flat. Or F sharp. I'm not sure. Ahem.

I love looking for trouble.
Dragons and werewolves and fat bloated zombies.
I love looking for trouble.
If it doesn't find me, I'll find it soon enough.
I'm gonna take out the bad guy.
Stick my sword in that zombie's piehole.
Red-eyed monsters raining down fire.
I'll evade them and tell'em to kiss my pucker.
Took a few hits,
but you should see the other guy.
His mom'll be the only one to think he's pretty.
I love looking for trouble.
Doo wa, doo wa, sha, ba da, de, woop boop.

Pretty cool, huh? I'm so talented.

So after two days of watching Islan drink, ok, figure out what our stuff does, we were all getting a little restless. Except Islan. By then he needed a lie in. Elana decided to rest as well, so Nyran stayed behind to keep an eye on them. The rest of us went to the tavern. Not to drink. It used to be the lighthouse, but it wasn't doing a very good job considering all the shipwrecks, so it became the local bar. However, it is still the tallest structure in the city. Hence, an excellent way to view the town.

So we're standing at the top, looking out at the city lights, when suddenly, we hear this blood-curdling scream reverberate through the city. Anwar and I realize it's coming from the north side. Like where MacLeane's house was and Phillippe's house is.

So we book it through the streets. Meanwhile, the heavens have opened up and it's pouring buckets. It was obvious the others had heard the screaming, because when we got to Phillippe's, the door was hanging wide open. How inconsiderate. So we started following their tracks. After wandering in their circles for a minute, we were eventually led down an alley off the main street. At the end were three big werewolfs, Islan, Nyran, and Elana. Though only one was a real werewolf. Action! I already had my weapons drawn. But before I could run down, Anwar lined up and let loose with her bow. Thuk, thuk, thuk, thuk! Sunk four arrows into its face. When the last one struck, he had opened up his mouth to howl or bite or something and ended up eating it. The force of the shot knocked him on his back. He wasn't moving anymore. When he shrank back into his normal form, we were suprised to see a dead elf. We assumed it was the one that the clerics had kept locked up for the last thirty years.

So, with everyone oohing over the elf, I decided to take a short walk and got a look at the remains of the victim. It was difficult to figure out, but I realized the body parts belonged to a man. Probably a begger, judging by the tattered scraps of fabric. I looked up to tell everyone and everyone is doing their impression of fish, and pointing above my head. You know that's never a good sign.

So I look up and, ohmygoddess! A big snarling wolfman, bigger than the other, was right on top of me. Ahhhhh! He drops down next to me and lashes out with his claws. They rake across my shoulder. That hurt! A lot!! I got a couple slashes in with my swords. He actually looked suprised for a minute. I remembered they're silvered. Woo! At least I have that, right? Nope. Half of the wounds closed up so fast. I couldn't believe it. Never corner a rabid, slathering animal. I was just getting destroyed. Then that fool Islan ran in. The thing gives him a good gut punch and Islan was picked up off his feet. He falls in a heap. And he didn't get up. That scared me. The beast was towering over him. Anwar ran in and hit Islan with her wand. I was too far away. I knew the thing would flatten him if he got the chance. I could only yell to get him out of there. Serianna ran to him. Nice to know she could take a hit because, sure enough, the werewolf took a swing. Islan must have got enough juice from the whack Anwar gave him though, because he opened his eyes and pointed at the creature. This blue blast went off. Never saw anything like that before. Nyran called a couple more pets. Eventually we beat him down enough so that he started to run away. Not happening. Anwar shot arrows and Islan peeked around her and blasted him. And wouldn't you know it? Dropped that bastard.

When he transformed, Nyran recognized him as the pontifex's right hand. The creature had bright red eyes. Eyes we can link to Lanathar and the Order of Mercy. This guy had been twisted. We also knew he had been the one to murder Will's mom. So Will and I gave him a few good kicks for measure. Then there was this big debate about whether to tell the pontifex or not. Never got a chance to finish the discussion because he showed up. As if he's not going to notice the blasts and buildings getting demolished. Though he wasn't exactly what I was expecting. I though he'd be a decrepit wrinkled old man. Not come trotting up on a big white horse wearing full plate armor holding a glowing sword. Paladin. Ick. Too rightous for me. Well, usually. I will find FrostFang again.

The pontifex didn't really trust our story. I think he thought we were just having fun or something. So he demanded we bring the body out. Nobody else was moving. No one wanted to show him what became of his secretary. Plus no one wanted to touch the body. Who knows what you could catch. So I went and got it. Just grabbed a leg and uncermoniously dragged him into the alley. I deliberately threw him at the paladin's feet. I knew who he was. Nyran explained it quite clearly. I wasn't going to be intimidated. We helped him out. I half thought he was involved, or at least turned a blind eye. But he actually looked sad. I really think now he had no idea what had been under his nose. He also mentioned that a monk had turned, with the same red eyes. Don't know who to trust in this city.

But no time to worry about that now. There's a crapload of funky zombies heading towards us. If you get too close, you could drown. Anwar has lent me a bow. I hope I remember how to use it. How does my song go again? Oh yeah.

I love looking for trouble.
Dragons and werewolves and fat bloated zombies.
I love looking for trouble.
If it doesn't find me. . .

Well, I think I'd be bored.

From the journal of Arilyn

Contributor: Jess Landin