Morthos – Diary II

During character creation for this campaign we were given the option to take a feat at first level. Feats are usually pretty handy to have and can give some interesting bonuses to your character. I took “Durable”. When I spend hit dice during a short rest the minimum I can roll is double my constitution modifier, which happens to be four. So I always roll an eight on my d8 hit dice. That’s pretty awesome you might be thinking, and well, it is pretty awesome. There’s just one little drawback: Morthos is now uneducated.

At the cost of awesome hit dice healing, Morthos can’t read or write. You’re probably asking yourself how Morthos can have a campaign diary if he can’t write. The answer to that is it’s not a diary per se. It’s him thinking about recent events every few nights and recording them to memory.

Despite the barbarians’ hang ups during the ambush on the road, we made short work of the gnolls. It is funny because Aedan fell into their trap and was quite literally hanging in the road. Even in my head it is still funny. Perhaps you had to be there.

Floyd chose a place that he thought was well defensible and we began to rest for the night. Although we may have been somewhat hidden from bandits and their ilk, a few bears stumbled onto our campsite during the night. Luckily Sonya is level-headed and did not provoke them. Gods know what might have been if Aeden was on watch.

After a long day of traveling, we finally made it to Brewich. We had all become weary from the road and sought to unwind at The Gilded Lily. It was a nice enough spot but I believe a few of my companions found it nicer still. The two savages lingered at the bar and were flirting with a woman there, until Meleck joined them anyway. The woman dragged him to her room and spent the night. I suppose she has a thing for well-fed tieflings.

The next morning we left the tavern to find a crowd gathered in the town square. The gallows was being prepared. That always seems to draw a crowd. The others seemed genuinely pleased at the prospect of a hanging. If they understood the truth they would neither see it as a means to celebrate nor a reason for fear. Death just is. In the end, it comes for us all. But I shall not turn this into a sermon for the Lord of the Dead.

A criminal was apprehended by a man named Kaladin, who I believe is an acquaintance of Floyd’s and is now joining us on our quest. Floyd is paying him to come along. I cannot help but wonder where his money comes from. Perhaps he ingested a rather large tape worm as some sort of bet.

Once the spectacle was over there was the matter of the corpse. I offered my services to the priests of the town and helped see to the poor soul’s passing. May he be ever in the presence of Kelemvor.

When I returned to the group, they informed me that we would be dealing with bandits that had been plaguing the town. The hanged man happened to be one of them. We set out in our wagon and decided to act helpless to provoke an attack. The bandits fell for our trap and will no longer be robbing travelers. One of them was left alive as a prisoner so we could turn him in for the reward. He was then tied up and dragged along with us.

We returned to town only to find that everything was turned to stone. Shops, people, the ground. The only thing remaining was a statue in the center of town. I suppose the reward is out of the question now. Floyd will not be pleased.

As we took in our situation, a ship flew through the air over the town. A robed man peered down over the side and cackled as the ship turned around and flew out of sight.

Things seem to always end up being more complicated than they began. Find missing people turns into some madman in a flying ship who can turn things to stone. Kelemvor, take me.



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