Tomblin's Expedition - part 2
The Campaign thus far; Tomblin, the plucky chronomancer has ventured into Frostgrave, finding a faithful friend in her hired master thief, Thessa, and pursuing knowledge by looting competing adventurer's encampments. Most recently Tomblin had caught wind of the Collector's Map, and chased it down to a small market on the outskirts of the steeps. In acquiring it however, Thessa and the archer Linus were abducted by a horde of pickpockets, leaving Tomblin with a difficult choice.
Game 11; The Baron's Lair. Going in hot, Tomblin broke into the lair of the Thieves Guild in an attempt to rescue her friends. This was halted by a horde of orphans cascading from the rafters of the ancient place, knocking her unconscious for a time. Upon awaking, she was questioned by the guild's leader in regard to the whereabouts of the map. Tomblin tried brokering a deal to exchange the map for her friends, but was double crossed, robbed, and then dumped in the river to die.
Interlude; A Very Dark Place.
Tomblin survived, but incurred a niggling wound from the event. Likewise, her hopes for the map were now in shambles, and her friends were who knows where. Somehow, she made it back to her library hideout, not yet abandoned by her hireling band. Paying into a retainer, Balif, Barker and Niven guarded the sorceress as she contemplated her next efforts in Felstad. Hiring an Information Broker to find Thessa would put a dent in Tomblin's coffers, but it was worth the expense, wasn't it?
Game 12: The Library.
Rumors of a scribe's sanctum had reached Balif on his last market trip, and after a month of licking her wounds, Tomblin assembled herself for the excursion ahead. Down a dreary corridor in one of the thicker parts of the Parchment District, the Chronomancer led her soldiers deep into a subterranean book cellar. Stumbling through webs of all sorts, there was a merry air about their plundering until a worm burrowed through the floor. Tomblin and Barker made for the treasure while Niven held it off, but while the wizard made escape, Balif was crushed beneath the purple coils of the beast. Doubling back through a corridor, the three remaining explorers found their way to open air, but not without feeling the heft of another of their number meeting such a grisly fate.
When they returned to Tomblin's sanctum, a letter was pinned to the door. The informant had made some headway, it read, regarding a fishing village and a bracelet made out of human hair. It was not evident to anyone how this was the equivolent of a clue, but the broker's note insisted that this was progress. At the very least, Tomblin could hold onto that.
Game 13: How Did We Get Here?*
In the darkest hours of that night, by the bristling fire, Tomblin poured herself a tumbler of amber liquor and reminisced. Her mind settled into the memory of her first foray into Felstad, when she still had an apprentice, and before her bond with Thessa had become more than a "working relationship."
It had been her misfortune to stumble across the ruins of that feasting hall, particularly while it was also being discovered by a Necromancer and a Thaumaturge. Tomblin, her apprentice Grayton the Elder, and their warband had found an enchanted drinking horn, but before they could decipher its gifts, the Necromancer's archers had spotted them. Elsewhere, a caribou was possessed and it rampaged into an Enchanter's retinue, while a Wright Knight appeared to the Thaumaturge and struck a bargain. Grayton watched from behind a ruined statuette, shivering in fright, old bones rattling so much that his shaking dislodged a rock that clattered on the cobblestones. With unnatural perception, the Wright began a steady march towards the apprentice, its incorporeal form phasing through ancient beams and buttresses. In the nick of time, the bold man-at-arms Niven intervened, trading blows with the hollow, knowing that his sword could never strike true on this ghostly opponent. This bought Grayton enough time to escape the Wright's clutches, and thusly the ruined hall altogether.
Meanwhile, a frost spider had begun pursuing Tomblin and her thieves, eating one of them before a charging Thessa extinguished her torch in several of its black beady eyes. With just the three of them at the top of a mighty stone stair, they had not quite collected their thoughts when a wall bloomed with a burst of cement and slate. Death cultists emptied out of it, slinging arrows and curses at the now fleeing Chronomancer, with treasure and thieves in hand. A terrifying templar stepped through the gash, and gave chase, splitting up the plucky trio...
Niven began to feel the strain of the duel, making numerous blows that on any other foe would have proved lethal. He couldn't find words to describe the disheartening effect of watching his blade strike true, and then immediately parry blows from a thrice dead knight. As he was about to go on the defensive, another being entered the fray, with hooves and antlers like a reindeer, but not. In a blink, the brilliant entity was on the Wright, and Niven took it as his chance to escape the doomed duel.
Tomblin put the tumbler down, empty now, and frosting over. The shutters had blown open. She crossed the room to close them, but as she neared, something caught her eye. In the snow that had gusted in was an envelope with the seal of her informant neatly stamped into the blood-red wax...
Game 11; The Baron's Lair. Going in hot, Tomblin broke into the lair of the Thieves Guild in an attempt to rescue her friends. This was halted by a horde of orphans cascading from the rafters of the ancient place, knocking her unconscious for a time. Upon awaking, she was questioned by the guild's leader in regard to the whereabouts of the map. Tomblin tried brokering a deal to exchange the map for her friends, but was double crossed, robbed, and then dumped in the river to die.
Interlude; A Very Dark Place.
Tomblin survived, but incurred a niggling wound from the event. Likewise, her hopes for the map were now in shambles, and her friends were who knows where. Somehow, she made it back to her library hideout, not yet abandoned by her hireling band. Paying into a retainer, Balif, Barker and Niven guarded the sorceress as she contemplated her next efforts in Felstad. Hiring an Information Broker to find Thessa would put a dent in Tomblin's coffers, but it was worth the expense, wasn't it?
Game 12: The Library.
Rumors of a scribe's sanctum had reached Balif on his last market trip, and after a month of licking her wounds, Tomblin assembled herself for the excursion ahead. Down a dreary corridor in one of the thicker parts of the Parchment District, the Chronomancer led her soldiers deep into a subterranean book cellar. Stumbling through webs of all sorts, there was a merry air about their plundering until a worm burrowed through the floor. Tomblin and Barker made for the treasure while Niven held it off, but while the wizard made escape, Balif was crushed beneath the purple coils of the beast. Doubling back through a corridor, the three remaining explorers found their way to open air, but not without feeling the heft of another of their number meeting such a grisly fate.
When they returned to Tomblin's sanctum, a letter was pinned to the door. The informant had made some headway, it read, regarding a fishing village and a bracelet made out of human hair. It was not evident to anyone how this was the equivolent of a clue, but the broker's note insisted that this was progress. At the very least, Tomblin could hold onto that.
Game 13: How Did We Get Here?*
In the darkest hours of that night, by the bristling fire, Tomblin poured herself a tumbler of amber liquor and reminisced. Her mind settled into the memory of her first foray into Felstad, when she still had an apprentice, and before her bond with Thessa had become more than a "working relationship."
It had been her misfortune to stumble across the ruins of that feasting hall, particularly while it was also being discovered by a Necromancer and a Thaumaturge. Tomblin, her apprentice Grayton the Elder, and their warband had found an enchanted drinking horn, but before they could decipher its gifts, the Necromancer's archers had spotted them. Elsewhere, a caribou was possessed and it rampaged into an Enchanter's retinue, while a Wright Knight appeared to the Thaumaturge and struck a bargain. Grayton watched from behind a ruined statuette, shivering in fright, old bones rattling so much that his shaking dislodged a rock that clattered on the cobblestones. With unnatural perception, the Wright began a steady march towards the apprentice, its incorporeal form phasing through ancient beams and buttresses. In the nick of time, the bold man-at-arms Niven intervened, trading blows with the hollow, knowing that his sword could never strike true on this ghostly opponent. This bought Grayton enough time to escape the Wright's clutches, and thusly the ruined hall altogether.
Meanwhile, a frost spider had begun pursuing Tomblin and her thieves, eating one of them before a charging Thessa extinguished her torch in several of its black beady eyes. With just the three of them at the top of a mighty stone stair, they had not quite collected their thoughts when a wall bloomed with a burst of cement and slate. Death cultists emptied out of it, slinging arrows and curses at the now fleeing Chronomancer, with treasure and thieves in hand. A terrifying templar stepped through the gash, and gave chase, splitting up the plucky trio...
Niven began to feel the strain of the duel, making numerous blows that on any other foe would have proved lethal. He couldn't find words to describe the disheartening effect of watching his blade strike true, and then immediately parry blows from a thrice dead knight. As he was about to go on the defensive, another being entered the fray, with hooves and antlers like a reindeer, but not. In a blink, the brilliant entity was on the Wright, and Niven took it as his chance to escape the doomed duel.
Tomblin put the tumbler down, empty now, and frosting over. The shutters had blown open. She crossed the room to close them, but as she neared, something caught her eye. In the snow that had gusted in was an envelope with the seal of her informant neatly stamped into the blood-red wax...
*This game was played recently at PAX UNPLUGGED and was a scenario game mastered by a pleasant man named Paul. It proved to be an excellent opportunity to explore a pre-campaign adventure of Tomblin's and also, it was my first Frostgrave game in months. Thank you to Paul, and all the folks at PAXU who helped me revitalize my love of the hobby.
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