Campaign of the Month: February 2012
The Legacy of the Realms
Madness, Insanity and Evil to Valor, Strength and Heroism
If it wasn’t for damn amulet.
Back in 1375 I used to run in the streets of Amn, not knowing my name, wearing a see-through eye patch and taking any job I could find. I would do anything for a coin; gold, silver or copper. If a beggar asked me to spare some coin, I would take his coffers. I was ruthless, maniacal, and it didn’t matter who you were, I didn’t care what you stood for, if i wanted something from you, I would take it. I made good coin in the slums of Amn, in fact I was on a job from an old man to deliver an item when it all changed.
This old man wanted me to deliver this amulet to the Shadowblades. At the time I didn’t know or care who the Shadowblades were, or what they were about as long as I got paid.
From the time I got this amulet my life turned upside down. I was chased throughout Amn to the docks where I jumped on a ship and hid away from the Town Guard. But once I got on that ship, the captain did everything he could to kick me off or watch me die. Of course slamming the captain with my flail while he was asleep wasn’t the best thing to do. I’m surprised he didn’t kill me right there.
Locked up and probably going to be executed, I awaited my fate. This is the only life I knew, to lie, cheat and steal my way to riches. The elf with the eye patch was going to be buried at sea. At the time I acutally thanked Umburlee for creating the storm that blew my cell open. I got out, and ran to the deck, and saw all the crew working furiously to try to keep the ship from sinking. Once again, young and stupid I asked if anyone needed help, and I got a reply from the captain, he said I could help by dying.
Locked up again, hussah I thought with scarcasm. This damn amulet is the fault for all this, lucky for me, the mindless zombie of a guard (or very drunk) hadn’t noticed. Little did I know that this amulet stored spells. Spells…..I am no mage, I don’t know of any magic, all I know is of the flail that I swing. Well I decided to give this amulet a try, I was going to die anyway. Five magic missle bolts flew from my hands, killing the guard. Amazing I thought, maybe I was in the wrong profession.
I remained a stowaway until Sahaugins devoured the crew, the ship coasted to the Jungles of Chult where I met a young Eladrin wizard named Jonas Windspear. The job Jonas had was providing magic shows for the younglings. Who knew that such a small thing could bring joy to others. I was not raised that way, I was raised to do bad things. Thank the gods I was never forced to kill, because at the time I would do it if it paid out. Jonas was a deckand for a ship docked at the Sea of Fallen Stars. And the mage taught me how to man a ship, help others and use my skills I learned for the greater good.
Jonas took me to a town called Bear’s Head, where I met a ranger named Kallin, I guess Kallin took to my fighting style and told me that I would be of good use to them in the army. Well, being a High Sword pays out, helps others and is plain boring.
Boring……I call it content. I wasn’t hurting anyone that didn’t deserve it, and I was helping people.
Which brings me to now, I decided to help the town with the undead infestation in the Vale. I left my old flail at home, dusted off my Falchion, which is still glistning with steel and magic, and put on my armor. I was ordered to escort the gnoll leader Taurk to Bear’s Head to form an alliance to combat the Undead. But it never works that way…In all my years I know things never go the way you want it to. My group, which consists of the fierce fighting tandem of the Dwarf Jobek Stonewall and his human wife Fredara, a half-breed Invoker named Monro, (he’s a young one, but I like his style, his devotion to Chauntea reminds me of a Cleric I used to know). A paladin of Miellikki named Vyn, the strange thing about Vyn is….he’s a Drow. Oh the nine hells, the town is run by drow, it doesn’t surprise me. We met our guide, Luthan on the way. Luthan is a ranger from Elturgard, we just finished a revolt in Elturgard, but this isn’t one of those Torm worshipping Zealots, which is a nice change.
So our group was formed, if I would name it. I would personally call the group “The Company of the Beheaded Troll”. For obvious reasons, I hate trolls. They stink, they are ugly and they have all the traits I used to have, hunt, steal and kill for gain.
And to make things interesting. Instead of finding Taurk, we ended up in the Feywild saving a gnome from upright walking birds, an owlbear and a lizard-tailed chicken. And they were all fighting each other! Madness I say.
And as for that amulet…Well it brought me here, why get rid of it now? It’s a symbol of what shaped my life. And besides, if the Shadowblades want it, they can come get it. If it wasn’t for that old man and that damn amulet, I would probably be dead or a ruthless killer.
As for my birth name? I have no clue, I am known as Patch, and I’ll let you figure it out why.
Till swords, axes, bows, arrows, spells…Oh by Corellan’s blade you know what I mean.