Dark Sun

Session 5
The session where Matt tries to kill Mad Merric and Dix saves everyone

Personal Log, Dix von Wolfen
Year of Priest’s Defiance, Sun Ascending, Bloom

Begin mental recording session…

My entourage and I finally arrived at Silverspring, though not with almost prematurely ending our current task. Elves of the Swiftfoot tribe in the employ of a human defiler attacked us. Even with my best efforts, the elvish arrows still found their mark, but that could not keep me down for long. Fortunately, the crazed halfling managed to kill the defiler and the minstrel brokered a deal with the elves. My purse is a little lighter for it, annoyingly enough, but sometimes it must be that way. I will enjoy hearing their sweet screams of torment as I crush their minds, if I ever get the chance. Anyway, Rhotan’s caravan is safe and we can continue with our task.

After dealing with middlemen, we were taken to the elf Toramund, leader of the Silverhand tribe. There we discover that they’re related to those that assaulted us. Toramund offered reward for settling the dispute between the two that has developed. He forbade us from killing any, but I look forward to…making them see our point of view. As the meeting moved on, we tried to gather information on the Canyon of Guthay without revealing our true goals. The foolish Genasi tried to spin some tail of finding her lost tribe. She shows great promise on the battlefield, but her anger is unfocused and lacks discipline. The attempt was armature at best and I did what I could to keep things from deteriorating.

By then the minstrel stepped in and tried to add his own strands to the lie being weaved for Toramund. His efforts did help, but Toramund was becoming bored with our prattling. How could they not see we were dealing with an experienced leader? It was obvious that I had to step in and save them from their folly. So I told Toramund the truth that we were searching for the Treasure of House Madar. This brought a laugh from the elf and he requested a story of our travels from the Genasi. After completing the story, Toramund did aid us, drawling a map of the canyon as well as discussing how best to enter the area. So impressed was he that he only charged us a total of two survival days. Though, I got the sense that he saw us as ‘competent fools,’ not the kind of impression I’d would have liked to leave, but hopefully we’ll be able to fix that.

Afterwords, we went to Isann for our reward for delivering the letter. Rhotan expressed his pleasure with our efforts to garner information on the canyon. As night fell, we went to one of the local cantinas, one typically frequented by non-elves. Right off the start, the reckless Genasi angered the bartender, but we’re not thrown out. The minstrel, never missing a chance to show off, proceeds to ridicule the bard currently performing. To his credit, he did upstage the inferior troubadour and performed superbly. I do have the feeling that we’ll see this other bard in the future. I don’t like making enemies, but he’ll either fall, his mind shattered, or he’ll continue his retched existence as my puppet, to be discarded when I have no use for him. The rest of the night was filled with drunken debauchery, and to my surprise, the Genasi did not start a fight. Maybe she’s learning? I doubt it.

The next day we set off for the canyon. Upon arriving, Rhotan informed us it would be too difficult for the rest of the caravan to continue. He gave us three days to find the treasure and return. If not, he’ll assume we meet our end and return to Silversprings, then Tyr. So, we started to search for the most likely cave the treasure could be in. We spend what seemed like ages pouring over Toramund’s map, our knowledge of history and the land. At one point, the rest stopped listening to me. They insisted that I was wrong, ignorant fools. Soon though, all but the mad halfling could feel the presence of magic, which led us to a most promising cave.

Inside, we find an area littered with dead Geth and skeletal bodies. And just like some trite tale told to scare children, the skeletons came to unlife. The halfling charged into battle against some kind of reaver zombie and was promptly terrorized by it. It teleported around and disappeared into black clouds that blocked all sight. Even over the sounds of battle I could hear his screams of pain as the zombie tore him apart. The minstrel, Genasi, and I make quick work of the skeletons. Soon, it is just one skeleton, hardly worth notice, and four zombies.

The minstrel and I were charged by three of the zombies. The one that was insolent enough to attack me felt the fires of my anger. Taking a few more hits the minstrel moved toward the broken and bleeding hafling and used his music laced magic to heal him. Before I knew it, the Genasi was in front of me, challenging the three zombies that surrounded me. I was able to get out of the way and disrupted the rotting undead to make their attacks on the Genasi useless. Just as the halfling recovered, he was struck down by the reaver. Once again, the minstrel managed to revive the halfling, but the reaver was relentless and tore into the halfling again. Someone had to deal with that zombie, so I started to formulate a plan.

The Genasi unleashed her anger and threw a barrage of attacks at the three zombies in front of her, killing one of them. It was time to put my plan into action. I tore into the pitiful minds of the zombies in front of the Genasi. One crumbled, the other was not far off. Then I unleashed my power at the reaver, taking it off guard and started to bore into its mind. I almost didn’t feel the arrow from the last skeleton. It was unimportant, I had the attention of our foe and I was going to destroy it. My enemy came straight at me, but it didn’t matter. I held its existence in my hand, all I had to do was squeeze. The Genasi, done with the other zombies came to help, her blade cutting deep into the reaver. I then sundered the reaver’s mind, ending it forever.

After the battle, the minstrel and the Genasi tended to the halfling. We searched the bodies and found various items from Houses Madar and Tsalaxa. I came across a staff of power among the debris, which should serve me well. Once we were ready, we pressed on deeper into the cave. We came across a set of doors thinly clad in copper. Metal! This must be the right place. Upon opening the doors, we discover a crypt, and the sound of a woman weeping. As we entered, wraiths and ghosts appeared. This was indeed the right place, the remnants of House Madar would not give up their treasures without a fight…

Session 4
An Ambush and a Delivery

Scouting ahead of Rhotan Vor and the rest of the trade caravan, Filk made his way cautiously over the rocky, barren ground. Carefully, he adjusted his hat and scarf to protect himself from the worst of the ruddy brilliance overhead. The wind constantly threatened to knock his hat askew, and unravel his scarf from protecting him from the stinging grit it flung at him. The world constantly went out of its way to hinder Filk, but he accepted this fact. He possessed the wit to protect himself from the vindictive environment, and the charm to ensure his safety among civilization. Even now, he was accompanied by several fellow adventurers who had proven themselves willing to fight for him. They were several paces ahead of him, on the lookout for any dangers that were sure to be in Filk’s way.
Ahead, the land rose, with several outcroppings of boulders, and a scattering of tough scrub brush, obscuring anything that might lie on the other side of the rise. Filk paused a moment, loosening his sword in his scabbard, and slinging his lute from around his back. It often proved a far more potent weapon than his blade. He pretended to tune it, as if in preparation for playing a jaunty marching song. This area was a likely site for an ambush (it was one that Filk himself would be likely to use), and though no one could see anything in hiding, Filk’s luck virtually guaranteed that he would be fighting for his life in a few moments. Or running for it.
Indeed, with a ululating war-cry, desert elves, fiendishly agile, leapt out from around the boulders, loosing arrows at Filk and his companions. Merric, the mad halfling decorated with the gruesome remains of what was likely a feast for him, was skewered by a shaft nearly as long as the halfling was tall. Filk’s arm jerked, as it was tugged viciously by an arrow that narrowly missed his torso, and he was dismayed to see a mounted figure – another elf waving a carved wand – top the rise. This one made a grasping motion, and Malik-kai, the genasi magic-wielder, doubled over in pain, gasping as terrible energies ripped through her body.
Merric, his rigorous training allowing him to ignore the gaping arrow-wound in his side, covered the distance between himself and the mounted elf in three long, floating strides. He attacked furiously, hands and feet flying, and landed beside what was clearly an elf defiler, who struggled to control his crodlu mount. With the defiler distracted, Malik-kai recovered and summoned wind magic to propel herself through the air toward one of the assassins atop a nearby boulder. Using her airborne momentum, she lashed out at the elf, unbalancing him, and knocking him down off the rock.
Filk quickly assessed the odds – equal numbers, never good. But, there were several elves armed with bows, so running away at this moment would be highly unwise. Turning your back on an enemy was just the first step to being stabbed (or, in this case, shot) in the back. Filk sighed at the irony of himself being worried about being attacked from behind, then strummed his lute, weaving into the music a subtle spell designed to direct his enemies’ attacks at someone other than himself. The elf that was his target didn’t even flinch. Perhaps he was too far away to hear. Cursing at his ill luck, he sang a spell of healing that was heard by Mad Merric.
Then, Dix von Wolfen, the dark master of the Way, unleashed a withering pulse of psychic energy at the group of elves in front of Merric, including the defiler. They definitely felt that, thought Filk. Unfortunately, their attention was now drawn to the lightly armored psion, and he was nearly downed by a pair of arrows that sprouted suddenly from his thin frame.
Filk watched in horror at the melee that ensued, as Malik-kai and Mad Merric were caught up in the thick of the fighting. He tried his best to avoid being near the wicked sharp swords of the assassins, and lent his own magical aid to his allies. Malik-kai screamed in pain, dropping to the ground as the mounted elf scourged her with dark magic. He saw von Wolfen fall down, arrows sticking out of him like a pincushion, and knew, even when the defiler fled, that they wouldn’t be fighting their way out of this. Filk prepared himself with a quick charm spell, then stepped forward, raising his hands in the air, weaponless.
“Wait! Spare us, and we will pay you!” There followed several moments of tense silence. Meanwhile, Merric flew after the fleeing defiler, caught up with him, and managed to kill him with a fatal blow, nearly exhausted himself. He came limping back to help Filk and the others, finding them in a standoff, bloody, but still dangerous to one another.
The elves were suspicious, but when they saw the gold and supplies offered, and knew that they wouldn’t be paid by their former leader, they agreed to go their way, and let Filk go his. The assassins claimed to be of the Swiftfoot tribe, relatives of the Silverhands that control Silver Spring, Rhotan Vor’s nearby destination. Healing his companions with mystical songs, he waited for the caravan and Rhotan to catch up with them.
The next morning, the caravan arrived at Silver Spring. Filk felt inside his cloak, checking to make sure the letter he carried was still there. It was the key to the next step on his journey to wealth. He and his companions parted from Rhotan Vor for a time while in the oasis town in order for each of them to conduct their business. Filk led the way, speaking charmingly to several people before tracking down Isann, Iseel’s brother from whom he had been promised a reward for the safe delivery of the letter to Toramund. Isann led them to another building in Silver Spring – Toramund’s headquarters. There, Filk followed as they were led underground, through a labyrinth of tunnels lit dimly by guttering torches. Finally, they came to a door, behind which was a richly appointed room. Seated behind an expensive wooden desk, the surface of which was covered with papers that were generated by a thriving business, was a large, graying elf – Toramund.
Filk was cautious, preferring to be sure of his payment before delivery. After speaking with the bluff trader, Filk produced the sealed, encrypted letter from out of his cloak. Never one to let an opportunity for monetary advancement pass him by, Filk, with his companions, spoke to Toramund of the Swiftfoot assassins. They learned that these raiders were interfering in the trade of Silver Spring and the Silverhand tribe. Toramund offered a reward should Filk and his crew solve their dilemma, ending the raids, and ensuring the Swiftfoot tribe’s integration with the Silver Spring economy, preferably with as little bloodshed as possible. This, Filk was more than willing to agree with.

Session 3 (placeholder)

Events that happened in session 3

- The party was met by the Wavir trader Rhotan Vor
- They agreed to go on a mission to both guard his caravan and also to seek out the lost treasure of the Madar family, whom he learned about from a drunkard in Balic
- The plan is to stop in Silver Spring, look for the treasure, and then head for Tyr.
- The party conspired about whether they wanted the whole treasure for themselves.
- The party was confronted by Iseel, who gave them an encrypted message intended for Toramund, the leader of the Silver Hands tribe that runs Silver Spring
- The party also learned about the Crimson Bandits, who hang out at an important oasis in between silver spring and altaruk, who they will be rewarded for if they take care of the problem.
- The party sets out, struggling through the hazards of the desert, but ultimately prevailing on their way to the crimson oasis.
-In order to even the odds, Malik-Kai offers to approach the oasis as a simple traveler to draw out the raiders while the rest of the party snuck up.
- The party as a whole did not succeed at being stealthy, but Merric was at least able to sneak up upon the bandits.
- A vicious battle ensued, encompassing the entire battlefield and almost downing the party, but ultimately the party was able to prevail, taking down raiders one by one, until they fell the leader of the group, and his halfling wilder
- The bandits, knowing they were done for, fought through to the bitter end.

Session 2
Fall of a friend

The drag marks left by the marauders were not difficult to follow. After only a couple of miles, it led to the top of a lonely hill where stood the ruins of an anciet tower. Now just an echo of a long forgotten kingdom, silent tress had toppled the walls no army could. In the center of the ring of stones remained a staircase spiraling into the earth. Kreeping down they came to a rotting wooden door; listening carefully at the door Merric was just able to dectect the faint slithering comeing from the other side. Gathering their courage, they burst through the door. Standing throughout the room they found five silt runners behind several stone sarcophagiand one ssurran that hissed as the door broke inward. In an alcove lay three bound men. The battle was fierce, Merrics fist punishing the reptiles, Dix tormenting their weak minds, and Kiel deftly sliding enemies into Malik-Kai’s magic blade. Sadly, while coming to Dix’s aid, Kiel was struck down with a powerful blow from a silt runner. Struggling against superior numbers, the party was forced back until one of the bound men stood up, having cut himself free with Kiel’s blade. Joining the frey, he helped turn the tide and one by one, the beasts fell, the last fleeing for his life before being hunted down. The battle won and the goods and Rhotan Vor’s favor secured, the group turned their attention to their new associate. Calling himself Filk and claiming to be an information merchant and minstrel, he offered to fill the place of the fallen Kiel. Could he be trusted, though? Only time will tell . . .

Session 1

The adventure begins in the inauspicious locale of an adventurer-catering tavern. Fraught by their dwindling money supply and the lack of work, the party drowned their sorrows in kank nectar at their favorite watering hole: The Kank and the Crodlu. There, they listened to Kiel’s attempts to lift up the spirits of the despondent crowd with his lute. Despite the few copper pieces he earned performing, Kiel was able to extract information from Argrus the barkeep that a caravan had indeed come in through the night, which is an unusual move by a house unless they wanted to hide some information. Argrus also relayed his knowledge that the caravan belonged to House Wavir. Satisfied with this knowledge, the party decided to act swiftly.

On the streets of Altaruk, Malik Kai was able to spot an unfamiliar face speaking with a Wavir merchant, properly identified by Dix. The party confronted the two, and after some skilled prodding, was able to convince the Merchant to let them in on the fact that a caravan belonging to Wavir had indeed crossed into town overnight, but one of their wagons laden with precious cargo was not with them. His boss, Rhotan Vor, had received a psionic message from the wagon drivers several days before a nasty sandstorm swept through the region. Knowing that the wagon should not be far away from Altaruk, Vor decided to discretely dispatch adventuring parties connected with House Wavir to locate and retrieve the contents. The merchant decided one extra set of adventurers scouring for the wagon couldn’t hurt, so he offered them a reward of 100 GP from Rhotan (and his good graces) should they locate the wagon and bring back it’s cargo and possibly the crew (in what shape… he didn’t exactly specify).

The party immediately set foot, as they were luckily well suited for just such an opportunity with several days of provisions at hand. With fortune continuing to be on their side, they stumbled upon wagon tracks not obscured by the sandstorm. Following it led to an ambush by silt runners, which the party was able to dispatch rather efficiently. Following that encounter, they continued following the tracks, this time joined by a few silt runner tracks, to the actual wagon. Unfortunately, the wagon had been stripped of almost all of its cargo, save the scraps picked over by a pack of kruthiks. After an enounter involving a botched psychic blast which almost downed the Monk, the party was able to contain the kruthik threat. Although they found no treasure or cargo worth bringing back, they had located the wagon! Following a much more obvious set of webbed tracks led the party to a ruined tower, which will be the subject of next week’s adventure….


70 Gold
1 fruit of healing"


1118 XP (Roleplaying: 100, Silt Runners: 500, Kruthiks: 518)

Welcome to Athas

Hello adventurers, one and all. Welcome to the obsidian portal page for our upcoming Dark Sun campaign. Here we can view the adventure (web)log, post pertinent information onto the wiki, write about our characters, and take notes for future campaigns.

I just signed up for Obsidian portal today, so I am still figuring it out, but so far the UI looks very intuitive and handy. Using this adventure log, I will assign one player each session to be responsible for taking notes, in whatever way they prefer, of the previous session. That way we will have a record to keep our memories straight, I can be spared those duties, and the player burden will be spread around. Beyond that responsibility, you are free to keep character journals, and I may even use whatever information you add to the game to future sessions!!

Looking forward to some quality gaming with you all. It’s been waaay too long.


Welcome to your Adventure Log!
A blog for your campaign

Every campaign gets an Adventure Log, a blog for your adventures!

While the wiki is great for organizing your campaign world, it’s not the best way to chronicle your adventures. For that purpose, you need a blog!

The Adventure Log will allow you to chronologically order the happenings of your campaign. It serves as the record of what has passed. After each gaming session, come to the Adventure Log and write up what happened. In time, it will grow into a great story!

Best of all, each Adventure Log post is also a wiki page! You can link back and forth with your wiki, characters, and so forth as you wish.

One final tip: Before you jump in and try to write up the entire history for your campaign, take a deep breath. Rather than spending days writing and getting exhausted, I would suggest writing a quick “Story So Far” with only a summary. Then, get back to gaming! Grow your Adventure Log over time, rather than all at once.


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