The Tresendar Conclusion

Bonjourno, welcome back to this backwater blog of fictional peril. When last we met, a small fraction of the gang faced off against multiversal adversaries as I had a lot of drop-outs. Ayhan and Alex faced off against Smaug in the belly of Erebor, and Tom and Joe went toe-to-toe with Darth Vader aboard the Tantive IV, which resulted in Tom's brutal slaying.

We now return to the group as they were before then, sandwiched between Bugbears and Ruffians on one hand, and about to thrash some re-animated skeletons on another. The Skeleton lot went first, they went forward and easily smashed the skeletons to dust. There they stood, wading through the blood and bone, hoping to locate some decent treasure. They smashed open the sarcophagi and looted the bones and managed to find a decent haul of gold and a platinum signet ring of insignificance.

Meanwhile, the other lot had a different scenario. Four redbrand ruffians and three blood hungry Bugbears were surrounding them, all brandishing large weapons and all foaming at the mouth. One by one, each player made their attack and each player chipped away at the assailants hoping to take a chunk out of them. Both sides got a good licking before finally the valiant warriors prevailed and managed to end their attackers. Now this room offered plentiful trinkets and goods, most of which were small bits of jewellery or loose change. But the most intriguing of the finds was chained to the wall in the corner. Clothed in loose, dirty rags and beaten within an inch of his life, was a Wood Elf. Drifting between consciousness, the Elf looked up at the group and managed a small look of relief.

Back in the crypt, the group had finished their exploration of the room, when they decided to leave. In that moment however, a large Bugbear entered the room, blocking their would-be exit. It slowly stepped towards the group, brandishing a rather mean-looking morningstar. The group scattered, some deciding to take aggressive action from different angles, and some, like Tom, trying to decide whether they got in the nearby sarcophagus or hide behind it. Eventually he decided hiding behind it might do the trick. But I am afraid, dear readers, that fate wasn't on Tom's side that session. The Bugbear pulled its arm back, morningstar in hand, and swung at the stone coffin.

It collided with the coffin at force, causing the stone to shatter immediately. The force of the stone did nothing to impede the speed and ferocity of the furious beast. It continued bringing its weapon through the coffin, this time with several pieces of rock aiding its destructive potential. It collided with the other side of the coffin, much to the same effect. The stone lost all of its integral structure and crumbled at the sheer force. Directly on the other side of that stone was a crouching Tom. He received the full force of not only a giant, furious Bugbear, but also sharp and vicious stone. The second the morningstar hit his body, a series of things would have occured. The piercing of the sharper edges of the weapon and loose bits of rock would have occured, causing instant damage. Then the force of the weapon and strength of the swing would come in to play. He was then launched across the length of the room where he collided full force with the wall.

Silence fell amongst the group as they all pictured the sad scene of a bloodied and beaten Tom hitting the floor surrounded by blood-soaked stone. Then came a question I didn't expect; 'Did I survive?'. I don't know why, but it stunned be a little. Some of the group laughed.

'Did you survive? Are you asking if during the process of being hit by the full force of a giant morningstar, which was carrying essentially half a coffins worth of stone, then launched across the room and then hitting the wall at deathly ferocity, did your character manage to not die?'

Silence persisted, followed a meek 'yes'.

'No Tom, you did not survive. Your corpse lies a crumpled mess on the ground'.

Having Tom die twice in two sessions wasn't what I had in mind and there was only so many clean cut resurrections I was willing to hand out, but then an idea struck me. The dark lord Sedruid would begin to claim dominion over this group. I allowed the rest of the group to continue fighting the Bugbear whilst I hatched a plan with Tom.

Some time later, the withered corpse of Tom suddenly began floating in the air, surrounded by a swirl of glowing magic and thick blood. The swirling mess became ferocious until suddenly it dissipated and there was standing a re-born Tom. Now a Bloodhunter, clad in dark cloth and brandishing a sword of flame, he had a new mission.

The other group surrounded this new addition to their crew, a Wood Elf. They managed to get the Elf free of its restraints and healed it up a little. They soon began to probe the Elf for information. He revealed his name to be Sandaril, his memory of his life was patchy at best but he knew his way around the crypts and could help the group find the Glasstaff if they promised protection. They agreed to such a bargain and left the room in search for Glasstaff. They quickly ran into the rest of the group and a newly reborn Tom, without exchanging questions they probably had, they set off towards the chambers of their bounty.

They entered through a wooden doorway into one of the larger and more ornate chambers they'd seen so far. Wooden bookshelves lined the walls with tomes and scrolls, in the corner was a small wooden bed with sheets of scarlet. Most notably, was a table in the centre of the room which had a series of ingredients and scraps of paper littered on it.

'So you've made it through my rigorous defenses have you? You've figured out the facade of the Redbrand?' bellowed a voice from the dark.

A pale man emerged from the darkness, with dark slicked-back hair and blue and red robes, he was carrying a staff of opaque glass and his posture was one of arrogance.

He walked into the light, standing before his wooden table.

'I am Iarno Albrek, the Glasstaff and you have insulted me greatly. You've stormed my home, killed my men and laid waste to my pets. I hope you know how to fight a real enemy.'

Iarno's staff began to glow and he floated into the air. A violent battle ensued, his bookshelves exploding sporadically and half of the room consumed by flame. Sandaril fled and hid in a dark corner whilst his went on.

It gave the newly ordained Bloodhunter Tom a chance to flex his new book of spells, whilst it gave everyone else a chance to perfect the ones they already had.

In no time the battle was won, the Glasstaff crumpled to the floor, a bloody mess. His staff rolled away from him as the light left his eyes. The group had liberated Phandalin and defeated their first major enemy. But as in all fiction, they had merely won the battle, for the war was yet to begin.