Spent most of the weekend venturing into darkness and uncertainty amongst the ruins of progress.
Dead the Fierce
Set off on my first Dark Venture with Dead the Fierce, a tempestuous warlock in good standing.
Quickly stumbled upon the watery den of the fearsome Grathorn pit beast.
Persuaded an overly enthusiastic wayfarer to seek his fortune in the sink hole. He found the toothy grin of the Grathorn.
The well fed Grathorn was no match for a few sneaky arrows and steel blade to the gut. Thence onto the laboratory.
A cursory search of the lab uncovered a runny eggman who fled to the waterfall pit, soon to join a growing corpse pile.
Dead finished up at the desolate crossroads slaying a Sarkag Wolf for its soft furs – a heroic gift for the (not so fair) princess of this realm. And cooking up wolf-steaks to finagle a last minute side quest to keep healthy.
Ilvost the Warlock
Ilvost met Falkid the Ageless wandering aimlessly at the crossroads. When you have a face filled with rocks, its hard to pass up any casual acquaintance, even the undead.
The King himself has tasked us with culling the growing ovoid menace.
The first Eggman fled in terror. Wizardry was invoked to teleport nearby and dissolve his cracked shell with acid; a sulphurous affair.
Beyond the Gaping Maw a fortified enclave was found, full as a goog with minions of the Egg Empire. We assaulted the castle where the bright-eyed Drakkin was held captive. Eggs were cracked and Drakkin left to rot. The Darkgrange does not reward failure.
With the ovoid menace suppressed, Ilvost reached the Meridian with his honour intact.
