Obsidian Vault Reclamations: Welcome to Meturius

Good day, and welcome again to the tales of the Obsidian Vault Reclalmations!

The first meeting of the group happened on Tuesday, and everything went quite well. There are currently four of us in the campaign – Some of the potentials had work schedule changes, or were sick, or some other problems. That’s why Tionas invited multiple people – Just In Case. So without further ado, I will introduce you to the current team:

Name: Atalian

Race/Class: Human Fighter

Description: Atalian is a stoic-looking individual. He dresses primarily in dark colors that don’t show the dirtiness of travel, his skin tanned from months of sun exposure. His black hair is kept short, and his brown eyes tend to be hard on those he watches.

His weapon is one of his prized possessions. Made for him by the Dwarves of Narunmad after he stayed and fought with them, the weapon looks much like the blade of a short sword on the end of a shaft much like a glaive would be. The haft of the weapon is carved with intricate spirals of runes, the meaning known only to him.

Atalian speaks many languages – If it is spoken by any significant population, he knows it. Killbaran, Tyrandallian, the dialects of the shared tongues of Dwarves and Orcs, Elvish, Draconic, and even Celestial, learned from his time studying with the Dwarves.

History: Atalian is the son of Tyrandall, and was sent to study with the dwarves of Narunmad, seeking knowledge on the ancient Primal language. Close to the end of his studies, the tentative peace between the Dwarves and the Giants to the south disappeared, the Giants and Dragons attacking the Dwarven cities. Atalian stayed and fought alongside the dwarves, earning his weapon in this time. He was with them as they fell back further and further, eventually reaching Kenderick, then Anzerat before making his way to the Tyrandallian city of Kendian with some of the dwarven survivors.

After ensuring his companions were situated as best as he could, he returned to Tyrandall, and was sent west in search of more information on this Primal language. He stopped in Hilea, then made his way north to the Elvish lands. He hoped he would be able to convince them to allow his entrance, but was met with only violence, returning to Belian briefly before heading to the Orcish city of Gagdreg.

From there, he returned to Hilea, gathering supplies before making his way west to where the Killbaran city-states fought among themselves for power, dominance, and even food. He made several stops at various places, notably helping Bethania a T’ominex’s forces secure their newfound hold over Bacatae.

While there, he learned of the return of Tyrandall’s iron-fisted King, and having no desire to see the madman in possession of the knowledge he had accumulated, decided to seek out the Obsidian Vault on the recommendation of one of Bethania’s fighters. Parminium was thus his next destination, and it was here he met with the others.

Notes: This is my character, so obviously I will know more about him than the others. One of the others sent me an awesome amount about his guy, but for Atalian? I can fill in the gaps on the fly as needed.

Name: Haltz

Race/Class: Human Monk

Description and History: Haltz has led a secluded life for the past twenty years, teaching himself martial arts and attempting to conquer the elements. After the fall of Killbar, he sent himself into the wilderness, following Nera’s favor of wandering and exploration. As his self-imposed exile went on, his disdain for civilization grew next to his capabilities in sustaining himself in the wild.

When he hit a plateau with his self-taught combat, he set a challenge for himself, following Retren’s teachings of hardships as personal trials. He would fast for a week, spending 12 hours of the day with his left side exposed to the burning sun, staring directly into the sun with his left eye. For the 12 hours of the night, he exposed his right side to the bitter cold.

At the end of the week, his left side was sun burnt and ragged, his right side frostbitten and blackened. Satisfied with this endurance, he decided that the wild was no longer suitable for him – It had become too easy. He turned his eye back towards the challenges that civilization will bring, and made his way back to what had become the Killbaran city-states. In his travel he heard of the Obsidian Vault and made his way to Parminium, and hopes that the path ahead will challenge him more and more, allowing him to grow stronger and more versatile.

Name: Ronin

Race/Class: Tiefling Monk

Description and History: Ronin was orphaned at a young age, living a rough life in the streets before being brought in by his Order. A tiefling of red skin, he does not fit in well with the more common crowds, a fact made obvious by his scars – His left horn is almost entirely missing, and while his right horn curls back along his head, it stops abruptly, the tip broken off long ago. He also lacks a Tiefling’s typical tail – The reasons behind this are known only to him, and few care enough to ask.

Name: Carric

Race/Class: Wood Elf Rogue

Description/History: Carric is the offspring of a pair of elves that decided on self-imposed exile when the Elven leadership called everyone back and closed their borders. He has grown up in a Killbaran setting, although not entirely in a noble setting. He was expelled from his city for one too many thefts, and was spotted on the road by Nimel, the recruiter for the Obsidian Vault. Seeing opportunity, he made his way to Parminium.

Carric has coppery skin with a greenish tint, and his favored weapons are his bow and a pair of daggers.

 

Now that everyone is introduced, I shall recap the (short) session that we played through. Each of our characters were meeting with Brolen, the Vault’s Dwarven treasurer, when a man from the town of Meturius came, asking for the Vault’s aid. Their silver mine – Formerly one of the most famous in Killbar – had been overrun. Goblins, he had said.

But they flushed the goblins out. The mines were clear – They sent in a team to check things out. Then they sent in a second team to check on the first team. And then he made his way here, as neither team had been heard from again.

Brolen asked our characters if we would be willing to do the job. Silly question. I think we’d all end up crawling the walls if we were left here too long. Happy to see us accept, Hadruck, the Obsidian Vault’s Half-Orc leader, instructed Brolen to give us an open writ for supplies.

We made our way to the supplier – A fat, greasy, nasty man named Timorus. Generally a terrible example of a human being, he did have what we needed – supplying us with another gallon of oil for Atalian’s lantern, more arrows for Carric, and some jerky and hard tac for our time away from civilization.

It was at this time that Ronin commented on the spiderweb tattoo on the back of Timorus’s neck. Timorus claimed it had no real significance, but everyone had seen a similar tattoo on the left side of Hadruck’s neck, and Atalian, during one of his conversations about the Dwarven lands with Brolen, had noticed a similar tattoo on the dwarf’s right wrist. None made any effort to hide the tattoos, but neither were they making an effort to show them off.

After securing our supplies, we rested for the night, meeting up with an outbound caravan to Meturius in the morning. Around mid-morning, the caravan was stopped – The guard had noticed something in the woods.

At this point, everyone slipped into their combat postures. Carric made his way into the woods, quiet as a mouse. Ronin used his monastic magic to send the sound of a twig snapping behind whatever was making the noise. At this point, an awful, nasty goblin shouted and jumped up. He was out of view of everyone, behind the tree – Or so he thought. Carric took a shot with his bow, killing the goblin and causing its companions to flee.

After Carric recovered his arrow, the caravan continued on, only pausing when it was ambushed once again – By a deer. Arriving in Meturius in the evening, the session came to a close.

Next week, I’m sure we’ll be making our way into the mine, and hopefully I’ll be able to get some use out of this fancy polearm. Goblin heads do not deserve to be attached to Goblin bodies.