The Adventures of Jorick Blazewood

[Sten]

Chapter 1 - The Voices of the Distant Past

I have not been in Impiltur for long, and already this area, my interest of study for many years, is beckoning me to stay and get some hands on practical experience with the local ruins. The land is simply littered with old ruins, both from the wars with goblinoids as well as even more ancient buildings of magical influences. The feeling of visiting these areas is indescribable, the excitement, the danger and the feeling of blood running through your veins as a pack of goblins chase you down a hallway of some ancient cellar.

(...)

The most peculiar experiences I’ve had at these ancient was an odd voice, I had pressed into an ancient cellar, some sort of fort in the past, still occupied by its old denizens brought back with negative energies. The voice beckoned me and my dear companion into the depths, speaking of strange little lights. We went into the depths where we were met with further zombies, shambling at us, gently rotting away with each of their slow stumbling steps. We dispatched them quickly using both my magic, my trusty dagger and the strong sword arm of my trusted companion. We ventured a bit further, only to be met by strong and hostile spirits, flailing themselves at us with wicked screams of pain, one of them clearly an allip.

(...)

A few days passed, I thought nothing more of this voice beckoning me into the depths, thinking it was merely one of the two spirits. But once the evening was upon us, I set upon a grand adventure with another group, whom happened to pass by the old fort ruins. The voices appeared once again, beckoning me into the depths with the promise of some little light. I chose to ignore it at first, but then I realized that I was the only one hearing it. Am I going mad? Or is there really something in the depths that wish for me to visit it? Vanquish it perhaps? And if so, what is it? I fear it could be something horrific, like a necromancer or possible even a vampire hiding in the darkness, wishing to feast upon my tender flesh.

I will need a proper party with all the appropriate members for such a venture, so far I have two in mind.

The anxious priest of Kossuth, his name eludes for the moment.
My trusted companion the fighter Leonhardt.
The kind yet deadly Dwarf Thondar.
The Half-elf cleric of Selune Maera.

(...)

The Outentown tavern makes a decent stew, I should order it again sometime..