Cearbhail:

Ok, everyone. So... I've been at this for a while now, and if you are familiar with my story telling, this will be no surprise. But there is a surprise with this story. One, I'm not the writer. I'm not. I'm just the transcriber... technically the Dungeon Master. You see, my friends wanted to play Dungeons and Dragons, and they knew I played a total of one game for three months, and so... of course they asked me if I would DM for them. And I shrugged and said, why the fierfek not. So, I bought the books, did some reading, got their characters in order and then created the world around them, almost literally. So... this is the result. And this was the first mission, or quest. You'll learn more about the characters as the chapters go on, and I'll be going beyond what's just going on during the campaign, but behind the scenes as well, just to make the story more rounded. Well, anyway. Let's begin.

And before we get started, I just want to say this: If I ironically say something like 'instead of doing the smart thing' it's because I had other options available that they could have used but ignored in lieu of their insanity.

Oh... and enjoy. =^^=


[Erwin Dristole]

Oh man, my head is killing me. I had so much to drink last night that I could barely remember what even happened, or wherever I ended up, but… I could feel the cold ground under my exposed body, the hard stone wet with cold water. My head is spinning even now as I wake up, my body feeling like it was thrashed from whatever it was I did last night.

Through my closed eyelids, I could see the bright green highlights, and I knew that once I opened my eyes, I would be welcomed to a nauseating blinding light. Ugh… I should just turn myself over, and try my best to wait this out until I'm back to normal. Hangovers are the worst, but they're temporary.

"So, when is the execution?" I heard a voice from nearby ask, which made me snap my eyes open.

A bright, blinding light assaulted me, forcing me to call out in agony as I rolled myself over. There was a giant green splotch in my eyesight, one that was slowly dissipating. The world was spinning around me as my self-induced hangover was slowly attempting to cripple me. Any second from now, and I might end up vomiting.

"Well, it seems the elf is finally awake." The same voice called from nearby. I looked over my shoulder, taking in what was actually going on. I wasn't lying in some alleyway, thrown away like trash, like I have been on several occasions the past three years on my journey. And I wasn't in some maid's house waking up after a rousing bout of endure the dragon.

I was inside a prison cell, completely surrounded by iron bars that have long rusted away, and I could probably bust through if I really had the opportunity to throw myself at the bars for a day or two. A small pile of hay was packed into a small box of wood, obviously to make a bedding of some form. The only support structure to keep the hay together was the crap other people left behind. There was also a bucket waiting for me next to my bedding, obviously for me to crap into. Come on, people; we're in the fifth era. In Farvaan, we don't crap in buckets anymore. We have aqueduct systems that we use in our latrine streams, and a well-designed sewage dump where our trees and mushrooms flourish from the waste, transforming our crap into nutrients and compost that in return, supply our nation with hallucinogenic pleasure drugs.

"Well, good morning, elf." The guard sneered down at me, crossing his arms. "Have to admit, it's not every day we see elves here in this prison. In fact, we don't have many prisoners at all. At the moment it's just you…"

He pointed to the cell to the right of me. "that old man…" The old man in question didn't look too old, but he did look he's seen better days. He wore clothes that were barely sticking to his malnourished body. His long dark black hair was matted, reaching past his shoulders in one of the sickest displays of how bad your hair can get after years of improper hygiene. In Farvaan… that is a crime. Hair is the basis of your status, and the better your hair, the better you were as a personality. His personality was neglectful and unconcerned with his appearance. His beard was just as neglected as the rest of him, though it was more so with the addition of whatever food he was being fed renting space in his beard.

The old man opened his eyes briefly, casting a glance at me with the sullen defeated eyes of a loser. Such a loser.

The guard pointed to the cell on the other side of the room. "And that cat-folk girl."

I looked over to the cat-folk girl, who looked just as old as I did. Knowing how elves age in comparison, I'm guessing she's probably half my age though. She was a sleek black-furred beauty. Her black fur was dotted with small flecks of blue showing through her matte black fur. Her eyes flashed over to me, as if she just woke up. Her eyes were just as bright and blue as the specks in her black fur. The cat-folk girl only yawned as she pushed herself up into a seated position.

The guard nodded as he looked down at me. "Man, it has to suck to be you. You pissed off the wrong person with that stunt you did, and now, our executioner is sharpening his axe. You and that cat are going to lose your heads by sundown. What did you do anyway?" The guard crossed his arms, looking down at me like he actually expected an answer.

My head was still spinning, but it was starting to come back to me. I was tired of sleeping in the woods, especially with the rumors of werewolves nesting nearby, so I came to the nearest town, even if that town was in the country of Illuska, one of the most corrupt counties I've ever set my foot into. The town was called Stormwind, a rather large town from what I gathered last night. It was on this hill or something, and there were walled off sections of the town. In the lowest part of the town were all these poor people who were rotting away in the filth of the higher parts of town. No one who lived there had any fresh food, the food was all the trash that rolled down the trash streams; no housing that seemed warm or comfortable to live in; and the only clothes people seemed to wear were the same rags I found myself wearing right now in this jail cell.

So, I made my way up to the highest part of the town. And as I got higher and higher, passing through the walled town, I saw the drastic change of the lifestyles of those who lived in the higher levels. The second level had actual houses, small huts with basic amenities but it was still services. Most of the people here seemed to be growing small farms, a self-sustaining lifestyle. There were even small markets that sold basic goods. It wasn't so bad, but it made what I saw earlier that more unacceptable. And as I got to the third level, I couldn't even imagine seeing what I was seeing. To call it posh living would be a joke. I walked into a store where someone was buying jelly beans, laughing about how they were going to a vomit party. When I asked about it, the noble hid behind her folding fan, calling me a filthy elf, and then walked around me, afraid of catching my disease.

I found out later that a vomit party was where nobles stood around a massive buffet table and they gorge themselves on everything, and when they get full, they eat these jelly beans that force them to extract the contents from their stomachs so that they can make room to shovel more in their face holes. Such a colorful place I seemed to have found myself in.

As if that wasn't enough, I ended up walking past a few guards as they hassled what looked like a Shouen girl. They stopped her in the middle of the street, grabbed her, and threw her up against a wall. I watched as they started running their hands across her robes, asking her if she had any contraband. They found a wand on her, and the guards beat her to the ground. After they kicked the shit out of her, they spat on her face before walking away. I know there is some needed context for what had happened, and from what I know… Illuska and Shou are at war. Anyone who has any linage of Shou in them are treated like trash. Same for anyone from Farvaan too. Elves are treated like trash in Illuska, and in Southern Shou too. Northern Shou seems pretty cool, and Eastern Shou is… well… it's there.

So, after witnessing what I called an ordinary day, I wanted to end it the same way I end every day in Illuska: I went to the nearest pub to drown my anger in. And the pub I found myself in was in all respects, a normal pub. It was in the highest section of town, save for the massive mansion looming over the top of the hill, the same part of town that had vomit parties. It was a large rustic tavern with the old Calimshan vibe to it, before it fell to what is now Illuska. I plopped myself at the bar, ordered as many beers as my gut could fill, and I let myself fall into my new despair.

I spent an hour or so just drinking my beer, and I found myself studying the room around me. On the other side of the tavern was a black-furred cat-folk, which I haven't seen any like her since I've started my journey three years ago. Almost all cat-folk were tiger or jaguar breeds, but this was another thing entirely. It was like a black leopard with blue specks in her fur. And her eyes were glued on the book in her hands, her other hand absent-mindedly holding an apple with a chunk missing from it.

As the night wore on, I got more and more drunk. The bar was becoming livelier, and to my stomach, this fish and chips was becoming actually tasty. It seemed that late in the evening, this pub started gambling, tables opening up for various card games and dice games that were nothing but luck. The cat-folk girl was cleaning house on a card game, and I could tell that some of the Illuskans were getting upset at her constant victories. If I had been sobered, I might have even noticed the concealed knives being drawn from under the table.

She was the only person getting attention tonight. To my right was a loud noble, one who was laughing while he told this story of his. "And so, this man walks up to me, sticking his smelly sausage fingers at me. 'Please sir, one coin is all I ask', the filthy peasant said to me. And so, I made him lick my boots, and while he was down there, licking, I took out my sword and thrust it straight into his back, just enough to let him survive for a few minutes while he crawled away. It turns out that he had children he was trying to feed, or something like that. So, that dying man stained my favorite Argonian-skinned boots, and because of his audacity to bleed on me, I took his children and put them in my fields. They spent years working off their father's debt to me, and that's just the younger boy; his sister died long before the debt was paid off. Once the boy had the debt paid off, I lined him up in front of my best bowmen and they all took practice shots at him. Doesn't matter though, he was a stupid elf boy anyway. No one would even notice or care that he was gone."

That's when I slammed my beer on the counter, turning myself around and threw my first punch at the noble. I managed to knock him off his chair, and I fell down over top of him. The noble had some guards drinking with him and they jumped on top of me. I started fighting them off me, and that's when I saw that cat-folk girl from earlier run across the table tops, unsheathing her claws as she jumped on top of the guard reaching for a chair to bash me with. She knocked him flat to the ground, scratching his face off while the other guard tried to pull me off the noble. I was in a drunken rage and grabbed the nearest bottle, swinging it back to strike the guard, and that is what ended the fight. The guard dodged the hit and got an arm around my neck. It pulled it back, and took a deep breath. I couldn't breathe. And then… well…

I guess I ended up here.

The person standing in front of my cell wasn't any of the guards though. I must be inside the lowest part of the town, in some prison or something.

"Well? How did you end up here?" The guard asked.

I shrugged. "Bar fight."

The guard only shook his head. "That sucks." He shrugged as he started walking away. "Anyway, your execution is scheduled at sundown, which is six hours away. Take this time to reflect on the One True God and how you should have behaved like a proper citizen of our great nation by silently allowing the rich to do whatever they want while smiling and bearing it while taking all their shit." That guard gets it.

He nodded goodbye and headed out the door. There was something off about the guard though. He was in a bit of a rush to leave the room, and he gave the old man a curious glance before closing the prison door behind him.

I looked around the prison. There were still three guards in the room. One was sitting at a table, taking notes on something; another guard was walking around the cells, looking at us, and a third was standing by the door leading to the exit. I surely didn't want to sit here and wait for my execution; I had to get out of here, no matter what.

I tried to look for ways to get out of here, and while I could do just about anything to get out of here, like talk to the old man resting in the cell next to me, or trying to locate a structural weakness with the cell door: like the fact that the cell door was fixed with half-pinned barrel hinges, and that the right amount of leverage would basically break the door open. Or perhaps check the old wall behind me for some kind of crack that I could exploit with my many magickal talents. But instead of those options, I instead focused on the guard patrolling; he had a set of keys hanging on his belt. I just needed him to get away from those keys and then somehow get those keys into my hands.

So, I used one of my spells: Produce Flame. Right on the guard's pants. The guard's pants went up in a spark of fire, and the guard was immediate in his action. He scrambled to rip his pants off, and almost like he was a trained stripper in a past life, he ripped those pants off him with little effort. He quickly threw his flaming pants into a bucket of water on the other side of the prison, which effectively put the keys too far away from me to do anything with. Oh great. Now what? It's not like I had those other two options to rely on. I guess I only had one option left.

I reached down and grabbed my pants, which weren't really my pants. They were whatever potato sack these guards wrapped me in. And I pulled my pants down, and let my elven rod of magick breathe. A ray of light fell upon me and my majestic rod as the gods themselves blessed the very room for the display I was offering the guards around me. One of the guards grabbed his eyes, screaming that the sight was too much, and he sprinted for the door. Another guard was too stunned to do anything. She wanted me.

The cat-folk girl was staring at me wide-eyed, but her attention was quickly diverted to the bucket of water just outside of her cell. Her tail was struggling to slip into the bucket. Ah… she was trying to grab the keys. I had to distract the guards long enough to let her do her thing.

I nodded to the guards. "Yeah. That's right. You heard right." You see, there's a rumor that elves are hung like horses. I'm living proof that we are.

The guard that was now pant less was starting to show his appreciation for my elven rod and started heading for my door. I guess my door wasn't locked, another thing I should have checked, and he started opening up my door, rushing his way in. On the other side of the room, the cat-folk girl's tail accidentally smacked against the bucket, knocking it over. The noise drew the other guard's attention.

"No! Bad kitty!" She screamed as she rushed for the keychain, which was now wrapped up in the cat-girl's tail. She started fusing with the cat-girl, which left me with just one guard to contend with.

Once the guard had my door open, I waited for him to walk into my cell. He obviously wanted to rape me, but unluckily for him, I know how to do magick. But I won't. He doesn't deserve the pleasure.

I rushed him, grabbing him by the scruff of his hair and slamming his face on the iron bars. I did this a few times before I slammed my knee in his face and threw him in the poop/hay bedding. And just like that, I had an open cell door. Not too complicated of an escape if I do say so myself.

The guard fighting with the cat girl's tail was now in possession of the keys and was on her way over to me. I reached down and grabbed the knocked-out guard's short sword, and no, I mean his primary weapon, and no, I mean his actual sword. No, not his dick! I grabbed his sword and rushed out of my cell just in time to duck a slash by the guard woman. I rammed my sword into her side, and she fell back against the cell, grabbing her side. Her hand was red with blood, but she didn't look done.

She screamed, "Prisoner is loose!" And I could hear movement outside the prison, like people were running towards us. This is not good. I had to do something.

I ran my fist across her face, hitting her hard enough that her face bounced off the iron bars. She fell to the ground, unconscious. I could hear the noise just outside the door; I had to hurry. Options, I had options. What to do though? I could slam the door, use a spell to set the door on fire or something. Or… I could grab the keys in the girl's hand and free a prisoner. How about the conscious cat girl that looks ready to fight? We could escape before the guards even know what's going on by going through the trap door leading into the sewer, which I would know about if it took two seconds to evaluate the room.

I looked to the scraggly old man who barely looked conscious. I'd free him. Genius!

I reached down, snatching the keys from the girl's hands, and then I rushed like underworld to the old man's cell door. I was quick as I slammed the keys into the man's cell door, unlocking it with no effort at all. I pulled the door open, nodding to the scraggly old man. "You're free now."

He glanced up at me, wearily. He slowly nodded his head, looking over my shoulder as the door leading out of the prison burst open. "You might want to use that sword of yours."

I turned my head around, seeing the crowd of guards forcing their way through the door. There were at least three of them, and now… I'm all on my own. I need some additional help.

"Hold them off." I said to the old man as I rushed for the cat girl's door. I don't know what I was thinking; I don't know anything about this old man or what he's even capable of. There are three guards at least rushing the door. There's no way he's going to be able to handle them on his own.

[Ignor Mei Kulenov]

This has been a long time coming. I thought I was going to die in that cell, just some pawn of an ambitious ex-Paladin seeking to destroy Illuska, but now, I'm a free man. And I'm going to do what I do best… kill some Paladins.

As soon as the elf boy unlocked my door and asked me to cover him while he rushed to free the only other prisoner in this cell block, I pushed myself off my butt. It's been too long since I properly stretched out these legs. Or held a sword. I wonder if I still have it in me to do this. Well, if I don't, I go out like a proper Damaran Paladin, in battle against evil.

I roared a challenge as I charged through my cell door, tackling the first guard to come to me. He was too in shock to register that I charged him, and I took that time to run my hand into the man's throat, hitting him hard enough that he fell backwards into the two other guards behind him. I reached for his sword, snatching it from his hands. I felt complete again. Time to show these Illuskan wannabes what a true Paladin is. I was a blur as I slashed the guard falling into his friends, the blood from his throat spraying into the air. The other guards shielded their eyes for a brief second to protect themselves from getting splashed by their comrade's blood. I took that second to slash my sword through them.

Three more guards rushed the doorway, and I took that as an invitation. I charged up, taking the initiative, and ran my sword right through the first guard. The guard right behind him took a slash at me, and I responded by pulling the stabbed guard in front of me, taking the blow. He was still alive enough to scream out in pain as he took the hit. I snapped out my leg, kicking the stabbed guard off my sword and onto the sword of the second guard. Once they hit the ground, I turned my attention to the third guard. She slashed her sword at me, and I didn't even bother dodging. I reached out, knocking the blade away with my bare hand. I snapped out my other hand, bludgeoning her with the pummel of my sword. Her nose spat out a red complaint as she hit the wall.

I stood there as I listened for anything going on. I didn't hear anyone coming after us, but I could hear whispers out in the hallway. They were waiting for us to come to them. I wonder what they have planned for us. Knowing the guards, it's something that can be easily repelled. They're just kids pretending to know war. I've lived through war, and I know how to survive the impossible.

I looked back at the elf boy. He was just now unlocking the Rakastan's cell door.

The elf boy opened the door for the girl, holding out his sword. "Here, you're going to need this."

I could tell by looking at the Rakastan, she didn't look too pleased at being handed a sword, and even glanced down at her own claws before shrugging and taking the weapon from him. These were just children, and yet… they were already being forced into this scenario. True… I was about their age when I first used a sword to kill small insignificant gnats like the ones currently bleeding out at my feet. Oh well. I guess this is the beginning of their story then. So then… what does that make me?

I hope I'm not the experienced elder that becomes a mentor. Those usually don't end up with the best endings. As long as I don't run into any important villains before we escape this prison, we should be set. I can go my separate way and let these two do whatever it is they will be doing. It's obvious they have a destiny ahead of them. Of course, they have to be. There's no way this elf could have escaped his cell by flashing his dick without being guided by some kind of destiny.

"Hey, you two." I said as the two young adults walked over to me. They both looked close to nineteen, but with the elf, he could just as easily be 60 years old and still look like this. Heck, he might be older than me.

I nodded to the door leading out to the hallway. "Once we exit this cell block, we'll probably be encountering more guards. Are the two of you proficient in fighting? I don't want to be babysitting you all day."

The elf boy nodded. "I've grown up practicing sword fighting with my dad. As well as Druidry from my mom." I can see by his stance that he wasn't just talking himself up. He had some developed muscles, some tone to his sword arm. He had a few scars around the puldron placements on his shoulders where he took some stray hits. I couldn't say that the kid was fresh, that's for sure. He's seen some action recently.

I looked over to the Rakastan. She didn't look as world-weary as the elf. She looked properly groomed, besides the prison rags she was barely wearing. She looked up at me, her tail flicking as she looked down at the short sword in her hands. "I know the basics; and I grew up in a clan that used these all the time." She looked up at me. "I should be just fine. Swords aren't my specialty though."

"So then… what is your specialty?"

She stuck out her hand. A small glowing orb appeared in her hands. "Magick." She replied as she let the orb of light fade away. "I'm a Mystic Breed." She said with a heavy voice, thick with sadness. I could see her past playing out in her mind, a small hollow memory I know all too well. Something happened to her, and it had to do with her being who she was.

I looked to the two youngsters. "Ok, so… let's go out there and teach these soldiers what a real warrior looks like."

I turned around and walked over to the doorway, the two behind me. I could still hear the movement outside the door, but it was more than that now. It sounded like all-out war outside. There was something big going on. I felt a pit growing inside my stomach, and that's never a good sign. What was going on out there?

[Kara Kulenov]

"So, this is the place?" Ivor asked me as he lowered his pair of binoculars.

We hiked through Illuska for three days to get here, climbing over frozen mountains, sneaking across a guarded countryside, avoiding the rumored werewolves in the dark woods. But we're here. All 53 of us.

"Yup. This is the place." I said as I brought my own binoculars up. "According to the note I got… this is the place. Fort Sun Blood. Dad's in there."

I backed away from the hill, slowly making my way back down the hill. My fellow countryfolk waited for me. They wanted this as much as I did. It was time for us to take our home back. But to do it properly… we needed Dad.

"This is it, fellow Damarans. This is the prison your rightful leader, Ignor Mei Kulenov, is being held. Our country has slowly been bleeding us to death, and your rightful tsar is in that prison. If we free him, the other Damarans will rise up and declare the imposter tsar the fake he is! The Ostingrav Underground will become whole, and we will take Ostingrav back from that Illuskan plant: Yugen Kalisnki." Everyone's face soured at hearing the name of our current 'tsar'. He took our country away from us, handing it over to Illuska and their High King. And ever since he took control over our capital, our prominent leaders have been slowly fading from power, one accident or forced execution at a time. My family was one of the first ones hit, and I was lucky to be away with my brother at the time our family was attacked. And Dad… well… I thought he was killed in the war against Northern Shou, but… he's been here the whole time.

I looked to the fort. There were a lot of Illuskan soldiers. That didn't matter. We have Megumin, our little Shou wonder. I looked to the Shouen girl, nodding to her. "So, are you ready to do your thing?"

She looked at the fort. "What if I hit Commander Kulenov?"

She had a good point. She has exactly one useful spell, and it was something I didn't want my father to get caught in. "Good point. Ok, plan 24. Anyone have a bottle of vodka?" If we're going to go rush in and get ourselves killed, I want to go out like a champ. Better yet. "Does anyone have an alchemist fire?" I think I have a plan.


Cearbhail:

So, that's the first chapter, and next chapter will probably go into how the first dungeon was cleared. And at first, it started with me telling Erwin about how when I was playing an elf, my DM told me that all elves were hung like horses. And because of this, Erwin made the joke about pulling out his own magickal rod as a form of escaping. So then, I said roll, he looked at me like I was crazy. And I said, "I'm serious. Roll." And he did, and he rolled a 20. So... there we go. And it was cemented in history that Erwin escaped prison by pulling down his pants. If only everyone in prison could escape that way. Anyway, see you next chapter.