Welcome to your Adventure Log!
A blog for your campaign

Every campaign gets an Adventure Log, a blog for your adventures!

While the wiki is great for organizing your campaign world, it’s not the best way to chronicle your adventures. For that purpose, you need a blog!

The Adventure Log will allow you to chronologically order the happenings of your campaign. It serves as the record of what has passed. After each gaming session, come to the Adventure Log and write up what happened. In time, it will grow into a great story!

Best of all, each Adventure Log post is also a wiki page! You can link back and forth with your wiki, characters, and so forth as you wish.

One final tip: Before you jump in and try to write up the entire history for your campaign, take a deep breath. Rather than spending days writing and getting exhausted, I would suggest writing a quick “Story So Far” with only a summary. Then, get back to gaming! Grow your Adventure Log over time, rather than all at once.

It Begins at the End of the World
A Prelude for Whisper and Skywatcher

Zol, Sypheros 3rd, 997 C.Y.
Location: Monastery of the Rising Sun, End of The World Mountain range.

Rising from evening vespers you both make your way to the dining hall. The halls of the Monastery of the Rising Sun are peaceful; the only sound is the rustle of your robes on the floor and the chirp of sparrows in the garden. Passing monks give a curtly nod but then continue on in their duties.

You take your seats in the dining hall. The fire in the hearth warms your back against the autumn chill. You both say a silent prayer and are quickly served by a young acolyte. You are engrossed in your meal when Master Allister Faust takes a seat on the bench next to you.

“Good evening my sister and brother.”

Your backs stiffen and you stop chewing your food. This is unusual. Master Faust does not normally join his fellow monks for dinner, preferring to take his meals in his quarters. You hastily mumble a quick “Evening Master,” your mouths filled with food.

Master Faust folds his hands on the table. “I have a task for the both of you. As you know our brothers and sisters at our monastery on Lake Cyre tends to a Cyran refugee camp along it’s outskirts. Despite our best efforts, this community of refugees has failed to thrive. Seventy-five or so refugees have requested our assistance in relocating to New Cyre in Breland, via Kraken Bay. The Monastery of Lake Cyre cannot spare any of its members for this task, which is why I’m giving it to you. You are to see them safely to their destination.”

Again in unison your reply, “Yes, Master.”

Faust allows a faint smile to spread across his thin lips. “Good. Amongst the refugees, you will find a blind Arenenal woman, Analla. She has a young child. Pay special attention to her and the baby. See that they meet Brother Ostego in New Cyre. He shall care for them from there. You leave in the morning.”

With that he stands, leans over the table, and kisses you both on the forehead. “May Dol Arrah and Dol Dorn guide you, may they protect you and may their truth light your way into the darkness. May they keep you safe.” With this blessing he leaves you to stare at each other across your plates.

Out of Sharn
Scoundrels Need Work Too

Zol, Sypheros 3rd, 997 C.Y.
Location: Sharn, City of Towers, Firelight district.

A loud knock on the door wakes the both of you from your slumber. The warforged warrior Dicarius, who never sleeps, grabs his sword and moves to the door before either one of you has lifted your heads from the pillow. Still groggy from last night’s festivities, Gerrard, slowly pulls himself from his bed and grabs his dagger from the belt slung on the foot of the bed. In the early morning light he almost stumbles over Hanceg, who sleepily slaps his foot away from his face, “Hey! Watch it.”

Moving next to the warforged, Gerrard grumpily shouts through the door, “Who is it!?”

“Sivis Courrier Service. I have a message for a Jerren Orthus and Alvis Kanan,” comes the muffled reply.

With this, Hanceg stirs from bed and moves to the back of the room and readies a quick spell. Gerrard moves in front of the warforged and cracks open the door. His eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness in the hallway. It takes him a couple of seconds to realize he must look down. There, no higher than his knees is a young gnome messenger waving a piece of parchment. “Papers please,” the gnome, says cheerily. Hanceg grabs Gerrard’s false identification papers from the desk and tosses them to him from across the room.

Snatching them from the air, Gerrard flips them in front of the gnomes face. “Very well,” the gnome replies. “Here you go. Have a nice day.” With a yawn Gerrard closes the door.

“What does it say?” Dicarius asks in a deep mechanical tone.

Gerrard opens the letter and begins to read aloud.

“Jerren Orthus and Alvis Kanan and company,

Considering you have been languishing in Sharn the past few days I can only assume you are broke and available for work.

Along the southern coast of Lake Cyre in Valenar is a small Cyran refugee camp. Some of these refugees will be moving to New Cyre in Breland very soon via Kraken Bay. Among them is an old man by the name of Easton Bois. He has a very important artifact. See that both of them make it safely to New Cyre.

We will negotiate a fair and reasonable price for your service upon completion as we always do.

Halen Jornus

Slaughter in the Evening
Hope Dies

Far, Sypheros 20th, 997 C.Y.

After a long and relentless journey your paths have brought you to your destination. Exhausted, your feet and back aching, you wander the small refugee camp. Muddy roads lead you past small hovels and tents with many families sharing food and quiet conversation over cooking fires. The eye you with caution and whisper to each other. They appear beaten and thin but they speak hopefully of New Cyre. You leave in the morning. There is no rest for the weary.

Four Days Later
Zol, Sypheros 24th, 997 C.Y.

The camp had been filled with the gentle sounds of evening. Children ran between the tents playing tag, women laughed while stirring pots of food and men talked fondly of times past. The journey from the settlement on Lake Crye had been uneventful. Kraken Bay was only a days journey away.

You were just settling in to your evening meal, the sun setting on the horizon when the warforged attacked from the brush. Women, children, men; young and old fell before them. They showed no remorse and no mercy.

The next few minutes were laden with terror as the innocent scattered before the onslaught. You helped lead the refugees up a ragged hill that did its best to steal the air from you lungs until they burned with every breath. At the top, you had earlier seen an abandoned watch tower built into a cliff face and it was there you hoped to find reprieve.

The warforged nipped at your heels claiming more victims with terrible blows. Overhead, another warforged circled the sky astride a huge, mechanical, winged beast, surveying the damage from on high.

Minutes later you find yourselves barricading the double doors to the tower with your bodies. Dust shakes from its planks with every blow your enemies levy against it. Ten minutes ago you were strangers. A Half-Elven Sorcerer, a battle scarred Warforged and a Human son of House Orien, all smugglers now stand shoulder to shoulder with a Goliath Monk and a Shifter Swordmage of the same monestary. You are now joined by a new stranger, a Human Inovoker carrying all the trapping of a devotee of the Blood of Vol. Exchanging cautious glances you realize that your enemy is determined to finish what they have started and you are in this together. Behind you, The wounded and scared huddle together. Children cry, a woman attempts to stifle a hearwretching sob, fear is every where. Half the refugees you started this journey with remain.

Suddenly the pounding stops. A mechanical voice shouts out, “Give us the old man and the rest of you shall live. He is in possession of something that was rightfully ours. If not, we will butcher you all. We’ll start with the women and the children and make you watch.”

You grasp the mantle of leadership and begin to order the remaining refugees down a perilous flight of stairs. Meanwhile some of you find debris to further barricade the door to buy time. This tower has been abandoned for some time and it is fraught with hazards and you find tracks indicating that something else has made it their home but keep this to yourselves. All is going well until a small group of refugees moves across weak section of wood floor sending them to the floor below. Hanceg, the Warforged Dicarius and Gerrard glance at each other nervously as they realize Easton Bois was amoung them. But there is no time as the door gives way. As a group you decide to hold the doorway. The warforged funnel into you to be repulsed every time. Behind them more warforged await.

You decsend the steps into a dark, damp, room. The warforged attempt to follow. A few gather overhead by the hole and watch you intently. You can faintly make out the outlines of a passage, once hidden, that leads into the cliff face. Your light reflects off what at first appears to be a large pool. You then notice a crack in the wall against the rock face and water steadily seeping in. A few islands of mud and debris dot the water covered floor. Just as your eyes adjust to the dim light a dire bear charges from the tunnel and hungry rats seem to crawl out from every crevice. More refugees fall, their deaths a shrieking horror that echos off the walls. From above, decrepit warforged soldiers break through the floor and drop down to join the fray. It is a hectic fight but you move the refugees into a passageway that leads through the cliff.

After a long climb you emerge at the top of a precarious cliff, the tower below you to your right. A small thin plateau stretches out before you. Ahead, the full moon reveals a path leading down the far side of the cliff.

The refugees are noticably relieved as it seems your pusuers have abandoned their attempts to keep up.

The relief quickly turns to gasps of horror as you hear the clanking of mechanical wings and the shadow of a dragon-like creature passing overhead.

Swooping to the ground in front of you is a large, forged, beast of prey. The metal of its hide gleams in the moonlight. It’s eyes glow a menacing red. Riding on the beast back is a warforged with a large spear and a sword at his waste.

“This ends here,” he says.

His name is Slag and he and his forged, flying drake leaps into and out of battle creating mayhem. Three Iron Cobras slink through the grass, darting from opponent to opponent. One of them corners an elven woman and her child. Just as it rears its head to strike you are all engulfed in black storm of arcane energy. Purple fingers of power swirl around your legs and it feels as if your very life may be sucked out of you. And in an instant it disappears. Analla and her child remain standing. The Cobra is a blackened husk. Slag is soon unseated from his mount and falls in battle.

The rest of the journey is less hopeful but you eventually arrive in New Crye and deliver your charges. A young man who assisted you in your escape, Alton Atwater, gives you each a small dragonshard pendant. He says to look within the shard when it glows to find work. His father, Burris, is always in need of sellswords.

Business in Fairhaven

Zor, Dravago (May) 13th, 998 C.Y.

Some time later your dragonshard pendant yields a soft glow. Looking closely within you can read the words, “Report to 980 Mark Street in Fairhaven by Sul, the 25th of Nymm.” Interested or just needing work you hurry to Fairhaven where you are reunited with some familiar faces.

On a dreary and rainy night, you all meet with Burris Atwater at his warehouse on the river. The top floor is a comfortable living suite overlooking the water. Lightning flashes outside and rain hammers against the window. Burris describes himself as a trader and transporter of goods. However, he also acts as a broker of sorts, putting important clients in contact with “folks who can get things done.” He leaves and but not before introducing you to your new employer.

“I appreciate you meeting with me. My name is Onar Baird. I work for the Wayfinder Foundation. I have been tasked with finding a band of mercaneries that can partake in a delicate matter. Though I know little of your past work, you come recommended and I’m pressed for time. I need you to find this man.” Onar reaches into a pouch and withdraws a small cylindrical object, similar to a jewelry loupe. He rolls it across the table. “You can keep it he says with a nod.” Onar knows little of the man in the glass, not even a name, only that he has been seen entering the Lyrander compound in Fairhaven numerous times, typically once a week for the past month. A side profile of the man can be seen at the Lyrander compound gate in Fairhaven. He wears a nondescript brown cloak pulled over this head. His right profile is barely visible but he appears to be a slim human man, maybe in his early to mid 20’s. He has a slightly hawkish nose but is otherwise indistinguishable. He appears to be talking to a middle-age guard behind the gate.

He continues, “About a month ago we started hearing rumors that someone was in Fairhaven trying to….unload something. We’re not quite sure what that something is yet…possibly some artifact which is why we’re (The Wayfinder Foundation) interested. But we suspect he’s the seller.”

He offers 500 gold for any information on this man. He warns you against going to the Wayfinder Foundation to deliver the information but instead refers you to a contact. "On Market Street two blocks from our Fairhaven guildhall is a crystal vendor, a river elf by the name of Valer. Tell him, ‘The crystals sparkle in the sun.’ He’ll get word to me and I’ll find you. Just keep your eyes on the mark in the meantime.”

Meeting Enlo

Mol, Dravago (May) 16th, 998 C.Y.

The party begins their search for the Mark. With little to go on but a brief description and a sideways glance frozen into a dragonshard you begin your search. Camping the Lyrander enclave in Fairhaven you overhear information that one of the Captains of the Lyrander enclave, Enlo D’Lyrander may be able to shed some light on who or where the Mark is. You follow him from his post one evening to his favorite watering hole, Mercy’s Pub. The party approaches him but he grows suspicious and bars the door. A fight ensues and Enlo puts up a vicious fight but after defeat he yields no clues and it soon becomes clear that you have made a deadly enemy.

What you learned about Enlo D’Lyrander:

Streetwise 8: Although Enlo does bare the dragonmark of House Lyrandar, he is not high in the bloodline and may be a distant cousin of some other ranking member of the house.

Streetwise 10: Enlo served both Aundair and House Lyrandar in varying capacities during the Last War. He is considered a war hero.

Streetwise/Diplomacy 14 – Although not every street vendor is chatty, you find one or two who carefully reveal that the Captain of the Gate is Enlo Selavash d’Lyrander. They quickly follow up that, “You didn’t get the information from me. You don’t want to cross Enlo.”

Streetwise/History 14: Enlo courageously led his battalion in many valiant attacks against Thrane during the closing years of the Last War. He served in the northern theatre near Thaliost. He became known as the Lyrandar Devil by Thranish soldiers.

Streetwise/Diplomacy 18 – Enlo has a favorite watering hole called Mercy’s Pub. A small dive that has only been around for a year or so.

The Mark Found

Wir (Wednesday), Dravago (May) 18th,

On the 5th day of scouring the city of Fairhaven for the scantist of leads, your endurance pays off as you spy the Mark moving through the crowd bound for the Lyrander enclave. The party decides to approach him after he does business in the enclave.

Upon his exit you attempt to find out what he knows but spook him. He bolts down a side street darting and weaving his way through the busy city streets. On the wall of the Lyrander compound you see the guards point in your direction. They begin to hurry off the wall and the gate begins to open.

Racing through the busy city streets you catch up with him. His name is Ishon Wheelwright and he has been tasked with brokering a deal with House Lyrander. He reluctantly gives you message from his employer in exchange for his freedom. It reads:


Hope things are well in Fairhaven.

Xen’drik is an awful place. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I hope it is not too much longer before you come to an agreement with House Lyrander so I can return. I can hold for a good price but I wear thin. Let them know I grow impatient.

While exploring the caverns I came across something unusual, a little carved out nook. Inside a book badly ravaged by the elements lay open. I could scarcely turn the pages without them crumbling and the ink was a blotty mess.

I’ve jotted down a few words below. Take them to the University of Wynarn and see if some professor can decipher their meaning. It might help me determine what I’ve stumbled upon.

I look forward to your reply.

Marcus Garber

(In Draconic, broken)

“Waiting to die I can only wonder; have we once again been forsaken. On the rarest of nights I can still catch glimpses of it. My work, I have given a lifetime to protect and it may all soon be undone…..

Galifar was a fool and so is his descendant, this King Jarot…


They say I have the blood of the ancestor and for that I must be destroyed. I will be the wellspring of evil.

As you begin to make your way through the city streets, the crowd begins to part…..

Battle In The Streets

Wir (Wednesday), Dravago (May) 18th,

The crowd parts to reveal none other then your new friend Enlo who has brought with him a contingent of Lyrander men and Fairhaven militia. He is intent on recovering what belongs to his House and free Ishon. A loud explosion interrupts your parlay. Kayal’s Bread Shop has gone up in flames. It is a mere diversion for another party, The Dark Dagger gang, who also have an interest in the information you have obtained from Ishon. Brokering a quick deal with Enlo you fight off the Dark Daggers but leave on no better terms with Enlo. The information Ishon held no longer belongs to House Lyrander alone and Enlo is all too aware of this.

Having accomplished your task, the next morning you return to your contact, Valer, the cyrstal vendor and River Elf in the market. He encourages you to investigate further by going to the University and looking for information there, following up on Ishon’s lead.

Door Ajar

Zor (Thursday), Dravago (May) 19th,

Traveling to the University of Wynarn in Fairhaven you are directed to a professor of Xen’drik studies, Marcus Arland. You arrive at his office to find the door slightly ajar.

The hinges creek as the door opens. Beyond bottles, books, alchemical equipment and clothing litter the once spotless room. A solitary figure, appearing to be Professor Arland with his graying hair, and still as the dead, crouches in the far side of the room, his face buried in the corner.

You investigation finds:
- The door has not been forced open.
- The room has been ransacked but there are also signs of a struggle.
- The rooms window is small and is currently shuttered and barred from the inside.
Arland’s corpse is crouched facing the northwest corner of the room. The PC’s must move the body out of the corner to get a better look.
- The eyes of Arland’s corpse are open wide and his facial muscles are locked in a visage of agony and fright. The front of his shirt is torn open and has spots of blood on it.
- He grips a dagger stiffly in his right hand. The dagger has a bone hilt etched with strange writing.
- Carved into the skin and muscle of Arland’s chest are the words, “wellspring of evil…”
- Given the dried blood on the dagger and the angle of the cuts on Arland’s chest, it’s obvious that he carved the message in his own skin but the cuts are too shallow to be the cause of death.
- A DC 14 Heal check can reveal that rigor mortis has set in. Arland has been dead for at least 4 hours.
- Dungeoneering/History 8 for goblins or orcs/Dungeoneering/History 14 for other races – Examination of the dagger determines that it is of orcish design. Religion 14 or ritual determines that the strange runes on the hilt are religious symbols venerating the Three Sisters.

Scattered around the room are Arland’s possession. PC’s can find a waterskin, Arland’s identification papers, a sunrod and 25 gold pieces in a brown pouch. Also in the pouch is a scrap of paper with the following address scrawled on it: 12 Princes Way.

- A DC 10 Streetwise or History check will recognize the address as being just east of Fairhold. The area is home to many royal and affluent Fairhaven citizens.
- PC’s also find a small notebook Inside are various notes and dates including shopping list, lecture ideas, appointments and poetry. The entry for yesterday is hastily scratched in and reads, “My find today is incredible. It goes to show you have quickly everything can change.”

Meeting Jasmine Chandler

While you are investigating the death of Marcus Arland there is a knock on the door. One of Arland’s students has come to rouse him for a lecture. Worrying you might be implicated in the murder you banter around a few ideas to avoid blame before opening the door only for Skywatcher to see a familiar face from his past, Jasmine Chandler. From her you learn the following:

– Arland has been a professor here for ten years. He specializes in Xen’drick literature and culture.
– Arland was known for a snarky remarks and wisecracks. He always seemed unhappy and dour. He never liked to take orders, especially from those his junior.
– He is a Cryan expatriot.
– He was known to occasionally go on a drinking binge. His hangovers would only worsen his temper.
– He often consulted with another professor, Buko Bartell, an expert in Khorvarian Dragons.
– He was always resentful of research assignments given to him by the university.
– He was often spotted at a tavern close to the university called The Waynarn Well.
– He has been very secretive of late and may have been working on a project with another professor.

Jasmine offers to alert the authorities and buy you time to continue your investigation. She refers you to the gnome, Haldo Quen, the secretary overseeing Arland’s assignment at the University.


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