The Southlands

The First Adventure


“Well I came into Bruise from farther North than I care to think about. I came through the gates just before they were closing without the coin for night at the inn. I did however have enough to assure I would be drunk enough not to care by the end of the night. These tits have gotten me out of similar jams in the past so I strolled into this beautiful shithole.
After a shot of the worst whiskey distilled this side of Hag Mountain, and horn of ale, I over heard someone seeking adventure. A seedy little dwarf was talking to two HUGE men at the bar, well one was a half-orc but I digress. I cut in on their cheers and asked them where they were heading.
I swear if I wasn’t a woman, or at least a good looking one, that Orc would’ve skewered me then and there.
They had no direction but a desire, so we talked to the one armed man over there. He told us a few tales of dark magic, missing persons and lizard men in the surrounding area. There was one tale of commotion at the cemetery, and we decided that was where we would go. Much closer to the city walls at the end of the day and less daunting than the cave he seemed to be pushing us towards.
We talked to a terrified local the next morning over some ale whose wife had been kidnapped near the cemetery just the day before. After little information and a deal brokered for us to use his talking ass, Jasper, we set off.
Nothing seemed amiss at the cemetery when we arrived in the afternoon. Splitting up and scouting the graveyard we were ambushed by a pack of mangy, starving fucking jackals. Gods! I hate jackals. After a short fight three lay slain and the others ran. One with a burning, charred backside thanks to yours truly. Since the only thing that seemed to be plaguing the cemetery were emaciated jackals we decided to eat and rest a bit. The dwarf and the man set up camp to cook the jackals while the Orc, Ashor I think his name is, and I went about looting a couple good sized sarcophagi. Don’t judge me, grave robbing isn’t my profession, but I will seize an opportunity for gold.
One sarcophagus had no bottom and what seemed to be stairs down into the darkness. The group decided to eat before venturing into this unknown. Shortly after tearing into the tough jackal meat the sun set behind the cliffs in the west. That’s when it got interesting.
Spirits rose up from every grave around us. Ghastly apparitions in various states of death. Some seemed to be crushed by a wagon or torn limb from limb by nothingness right before our eyes. It was horrifying, but they seemed only to wish to recount their deaths and ask about their loved ones. Until one spirit rushed towards us. He spoke in the vague and ominous way only a spirit can, and told us of something desecrating the dead under the graveyard. Fearing the worst we steeled ourselves and went to the stairs under the cairn.
We sent the dwarf in first disguised as a jackal to scout ahead. It was truly a sight to behold, but the small fellow played a fairly convincing jackal. We came to the end of a pitch black corridor, opening into a small cave. Bodies were strewn about the room, none fresh, in what seemed to be a random order. Not the work of a necromancer, or at least not a good one. Under a blanket there was a trembling mass that shouted ’Don’t hurt me I’m just a blanket!’ We assured whomever was under the blanket that they would come to no harm if they cooperated. What emerged was grotesque. A scrawny humanoid that looked like it had been in cave for far to long and had its limbs stretched to odd proportions and eyes as big around as tea cups. It seemed fairly harmless but the dwarf kept an arrow knocked and pointed in its direction. There was a strange urn in the corner with an otherworldly beam of light shooting out of the top. It was a bright light but oddly it didn’t light the cave.
We discussed our current situation openly for a bit. Too openly in fact. The huge man, a cleric, and the dwarf were loudly talking of dispatching the pitiful creature when it attacked. It never stood a chance. We decided it would be a good time to grab what we could find and get the fuck out of there. Ashor, braver than I, pulled a scull out of the pot. The beam of light emanated from the hollow sockets. Taking care not to look directly into the light we searched the small cave finding some gold and trinkets. With our small treasure we set back off for the city. And that’s what I’m doing here in Bruise, adventuring. Now are you going to buy me drink or should I go find that half-orc Ashor? Man I bet he knows how to really plow a field if you catch my drift.” Wink



ChristopherCrawford ChristopherCrawford

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