Chronicles of Tellus

The Daily Finn
Session One

Starday, 14th of Agruil, 4762 SR

Dear Diary,

Ugh. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve never had a diary before, and I never intended to. Manus once told me that all great leaders have a journal of sorts, chronicling the obstacles they face, the ideas they have, and other such things. I’m no great leader, but I would like to be some day. So now is a good a time as any to start. I’ve run as far away as possible from Nazca. I am at least in Alduria by now. I’ve seen trail markers for a town called Eastbrook another 5 miles east of here. I’ll try to make my way there tomorrow to procure some more supplies before heading on my way again. My journey thus far has been less than exhilarating. Many days spent saddlesore, many nights sleeping under the stars. That’s not to say I’m complaining. I’m not exactly seeking out any of the aforementioned obstacles encountered by great leaders, but I’ve barely spoken to anyone except my mare… and myself. Hopefully Eastbrook will provide a bit more exciting. Anyways, goodnight I guess.

- Finn

Sunday, 15th of Agruil, 4762 SR

Dear Diary,

I’ve got to come up with something more dignified to call you. Diary sounds like musings of some trivial young girl. Maybe something like “The Daily Finn” or “The Chronicles of Finn.” Eh, give me some time, I’ll think of something. Well today has been sufficiently strange. I suppose I should start at the beginning. Bear with me, I assure you the story becomes more interesting. As it would turn out, coin does not go as far in Alduria as it does in Nazca. Regrettably, I ended up having to sell the mare. I figure as long as I don’t have a need to traverse the entire continent of Tellus, I should be able to manage on foot for now. The coin was barely in my hand when a ball of fire streaked the sky and shook the earth. I don’t know what I was thinking. But I raced towards the destruction as quickly as I could. Maybe it’s warrior’s instinct from all those years of training, I’m unsure. I just knew I needed to figure out what was going on. If I needed to protect myself, I needed to know what I was protecting myself from.

Just outside the town, through the dust and debris, I could see a deep, wide crater. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’d heard stories of fire falling from the skies before, attributed to the anger of the gods. I thought maybe the gods were upset with Eastbrook and fired a warning shot, or that they intended to destroy the town, and missed. However, I’m pretty sure I can throw that theory out the window now. Just when I was getting ready to turn back to the town, I caught the outline of something emerging from the crater. It looked human, but it wasn’t quite. No human could still be walking after the injuries this man sustained. He was essentially a walking corpse, stumbling from the smoke. As myself and the rest of the gathered audience looked closer, we realized we was re-materializing before our eyes. He was healing himself somehow. As he came closer, I realized he was shouting incoherently, raving like a mad man. He pondered aloud as to how “they” found him. He seemed utterly astonished. He shouted at himself to flee. Then, much to my dismay, the lunatic grabbed me by my collar and pulled me off the ground with incredible strength. I have never been too keen on human touch, let alone the touch of a stranger. The heat of his grip made me shudder.

Looking into his eyes, I noticed they weren’t quite like any human eye I’d ever seen. I felt as if I was looking through the heavens, as if I could dive into his eyes and fall forever. He had no pupils, only, and as strange as this sounds, I know what I saw, something akin to a keyhole instead. According to him, I’m going to be his “salvation” whatever that means. I am to start running and never stop, lest “they” find me. I assume this is the same “they” he referred to finding him. Then the strangest thing occurred. He pressed his palm to my head and my world flashed bright white eventually fading to black. Then, as if he was communicating through my thoughts, he said, “Never stop running. You will save me.”

Bizarre, no doubt. When I fled Nazca to gallivant across the country in search of great purpose, I never actually expected it to be thrust at me. Though, I’m not entirely certain that this was the great purpose I was searching for. After all, despite all attempts to press the man for more information he simply continued to blither on about “them” finding him. For all I know I’ve just been given a quest by a mad man and will actually be saving him from no one, except maybe his inner demons. However, after an entrance like that, I have an inclination to believe that something bigger might be going on.

After the hatter let go of me, myself and the others near me must have lost consciousness. I found myself sprawled out onto the forest floor. As I found my bearings, one of the others noticed smoke in the distance, in the direction of the town we had come from. We raced back to the village and found it under siege. We did our best to fight off the intruders, but they were too many. We saved what villagers we could. The brutes had lit the thatch while people were still inside. We managed to pull a few to safety. We killed several of these invaders before being forced to flee ourselves. In our haste, we were forced to leave one of our companions behind. I am sad to say that I never even learned his name. I will make a mental note to do something in his memory once we reach some level of stability.

So, here we are fleeing into the woods, making camp for the night. Three strangers and myself have wordlessly agreed to travel together. This should be interesting.

- Finn

The Finlay Tymes
Session Two

Moonday, 16th of Agruil, 4762 SR

Dear Diary,

Well, we managed to go through the formalities of introducing ourselves. Honestly, I can only remember the elf’s name.Adorshea. The other two,the big one and the ugly one? I forgot their names the second I heard them. Can’t tell you why, I’ve just always been rather forgetful with names. I suppose I should introduce my traveling companions.

Adorshea. I cannot decide whether she’ll be more of an asset or a liability. The elf possesses many skills that the rest of us do not. However, she does not appear to have those skills honed well. She actually failed to climb a tree. She never even managed to get her second foot off of the ground. I’ve never seen someone fail so magnificently. She speaks elvish, which has already been of great use. I do believe I forgot to mention that the four of us started to hear whispers, not unlike how the raving man spoke into my thoughts. We’ve been hearing Lhûg Golodh repeatedly. Adoreshea insists that this means Serpent Sage. Despite the benefits of her elvish tongue, her mouth has gotten us into trouble once already. I’ve always been of the opinion that one should choose their words carefully. Speaking only when necessary. When a raving lunatic whispers a phrase into our thoughts, I am of a mind to keep that phrase to myself until I can understand the gravity of the words.

The ugly one. He’s oddly diplomatic. I don’t fully understand it, but at the same time, I’ve never understood diplomacy well. I do most of my negotiating with my blade. I’ve noted he has strange taste in women. When Eastbrook was attacked her kept shouting “my wench!” It wasn’t until he later explained, he had found himself enamored with the homely toothless bar maid at the inn. Maybe men outside of Nazca have a different opinion of beauty. I’m afraid I can’t say much more about him.

The big one. A half-orc. Smug. A smartass. But, he’s a good fighter. And he seems to be relatively intelligent… for an orc. I believe he has a thing for Adorshea. I’m not quite sure how the physics of that relationship would work out…

So, today was very nearly as outlandish as yesterday. We awoke at camp this morning, pleased to have survived the night, as in our exhaustion we had failed to set up a watch order. Herein laid the tree climbing incident. Adorshea attempted to scale a tree and scout for civilization. She eventually made it up after a second attempt and noted a town to the east. About a half a days’ travel later, we found ourselves in Westchester. Quaint enough. Everyone was immensely hospitable and friendly. Almost too friendly, I immediately felt suspicious, but compared to the barbarians that were trying to kill me yesterday, I’ll take overly friendly townsfolk any day. We looked around, gathered some supplies, and found the local Sheriff. We informed him of Eastbrook’s invasion. He appreciated the warning and directed us to an inn where we could spend the night. While we were speaking with the sheriff, that same whisper spoke to us, “Lhug Golodh.” Adorshea blurted out, “Serpent Sage” and we shuffled her out of his office and quickly made our way to the inn.

We discussed our next course of action within the common area of the inn. A drunk came stumbling over to us when he overheard Lhug Golodh. How could we be so careless as to allow ourselves to be overheard! However, the sot misheard Lhum Galadh. The elf, the big one, and the ugly one all decided that this matter must be taken to the sheriff. I was more focused on the bath I had asked the innkeeper to draw for me. The three of them departed as I sunk into the warmth of the tub. I had been traveling for months, at least three by my count. I needed a good wash, to let the heat sink into my muscles and joints. I’d barely been in 10 minutes when I was so rudely interrupted. The sheriff felt there was something my companions and I needed to see. The Council of Three he had stated. This seemed ominous to say the least. It also seemed that I had no choice in the matter and would be escorted to the council against my will if necessary.

We were escorted to a chamber wherein three individuals looked down on us from a raised platform. A woman of middle age, a young man, and an elderly man. Their names escape me, however I can tell you that the woman stated she belonged to an organization called The Spinsters, the man from The Lumber Consortium, and the elderly man from The Shade Consortium. They did nothing to explain what these titles meant. But I can only imagine they are people of importance in their town.

The elderly man seemed to me a bit senile and I wondered why he was allowed to remain on a council if he was infirm of mind. He was very insistent that it was the council that would ask the questions, making it very difficult for us to glean any information from them. We were hesitant to reveal much more that we had already revealed, but that did not last long. Adorshea stated that we had heard the attackers of Eastbrook say the words “Lhum Galadh.” The council looked gravely upon us. We awaited to consequences
of our words…

- Finn

Westchester Events
Session Three

Tearsday, 17th of Agruil, 4762 SR

The town of Westchester seems to be an odd town. While here we stumbled upon information that we were not privileged to know but the council seems to trust us enough to have let us go out on our own (under the conditions that we stay in the town until they figure out how to deal with us knowing about the Gray Wood). We met the old men of the town, those who no longer work in the woods. A little bit of flirting got us a little bit of information but nothing that seems to help us. I find it strange their tolerance for elves and their knowledge of my language. We will see what happens once the council decides how to deal with us. I do not fear punishment because Kulthar seems to intimidate them.


Session Four

Date Unknown

My eyes open. The heat on my face is unbearable. I see orange and red and yellow dancing across the sky. It is beautiful. My eyes shut.


My eyes open. The beauty is gone and all that is left is an infernal Hell. My face blisters from the heat. I am dying. I look left and see the building wreathed in flame. The fires grow, creeping closer to me, hungry to taste my flesh and burn my bones. I struggle to move away, the gash in my side spilling my lifeblood on the ground. Each inch brings relief as the heat lessens and lessens. Hell recedes behind me. I crawl for my life. The heat fades. My eyes shut.


My eyes open. I am in a room, surrounded by faces I do not recognize. I try to move, but I am held down to the table. A man approaches. He looks like a butcher, but his eyes more intelligent. His work has boon long, and weary. He tells me to be still, that I am safe, that I must not move. I lift my head and see that I am bandaged. I have been stripped to my waist, the gash in my side tended, and my effects placed in a corner. Perhaps the man is not lying to me. Perhaps I am safe. But, I have thought myself safe before. He gives me a drink, says it will help me sleep. I drink. My eyes shut.


My eyes open. I am no longer bound and can sit up. I look around the sparsely decorated room. I look out the window and see only wreckage. Burnt buildings. Men collecting bodies. Disarray. Despair. I am still in Eastbrook it seems, but judging from the line of neatly wrapped corpses it seems a number of days have passed since the Event.

It all comes back to me. The man falling from the sky. His supernatural healing. He ranted about someone hunting him. He said we would save them. We. Adorshea. Dnalor. Kulthar. Finn. Me. We would save him. Then he vanished. The battle came next. We rushed into town, eager to save the folk from the invaders. I know not why. Myself, I would have left the town. And yet I came. I am tied to these people, I think. Not the folk, they matter not to me. No. To the other four. We have been selected for…something. We are bound. I know it. I feel it.

Finn fell. They saved her.
Dnalor fell. They saved him.
Kulthar fell. They saved him.
I fell. They…did not save me.

I am left behind. Surrounded by orange and red and yellow. We are bound, yes. But they left me.

We are bound.

And I will find them.

-Relim Felris

Grim Forest
Session Five

Sunday, 29th Agruil, 4762 SR

Nature will always impress me with it’s raw power.

I am Kulthar Stormrage, a great warrior and I was defeated by the minions of the woods today. The bears came out of the brush, catching me off guard. Travelling with the others must have dulled my senses. I was able to quickly kill the first bear with a few blows of my mighty club, but the other was on me before I could do anything. I distinctly remember it’s claws ripping through my flesh before everything went dark. Luckily, with the bears focused on me, the others were able to group up and must have scared the other bear off.

I am slowly regaining my strength, soon we will press on in this dark forest. But before we continue, I must work with the human woman Finn with her bow. I haven’t asked anyone else, but I swear I saw her shoot Dnalor with an arrow when she was aiming for a bear. If the mighty Kulthar is to continue to protect the others, I’d rather not be shot in the back from her good intentions. Dnalor seems capable enough, but I’m not sure how much I trust him with our lives on the line. The elf woman, Adorshea, seems to have use of magic. I don’t understand how it works, but I count her an ally because of it.

I will write more once we find this Serpent Sage.


Inner Spirit
Session Seven

Weansday, 21st Nuvemben, 4762 SR

It has been sometime since I last wrote on these pages. Since my last entry, it’s impossible to determine exactly how much time has passed, and how much I have changed. Our travels through the woods have finally yielded results, but at an interesting cost. Time. My travelling companions, actually my friends, and I at this point decided to clear our minds of anything but the thoughts of nature, and have been rewarded by interacting with the last Tree Herder in Alduria, and likely the entire world. A direct descendant of Obad-Hai, this is likely the closest any of us will ever be to an actual god.

Despite our personal breakthroughs, we unfortunately did not come across much further information regarding the man who fell from the sky, only that we should do further research on Lhûg Golodh, the Serpent Sage, to learn more. Our time in the woods is over now, and we will begin to venture out. I spoke of the cost of time before, it will truly be interesting to see what has changed since we have been gone. I feel our time here has changed all of us, an evolution of sorts. Adorshea seems to have outgrown her Elvish traits and gained those of a dragon, and has forgotten most of her magical prowess in favor of combat. I have grown in size, and seemed to have lost any orcish features I once had. Dnalor has also taken a more draconic form. I feel as though Finn is the only one who remained fairly unchanged by our time. A new viewpoint and world await us outside these woods, I know we entered them in the middle of the third age of our time, and my best guess would indicate that once we leave, the world will have just begun it’s fifth age. It will be a new experience.

- Kulthar

Sigh, Another Day of Drudgery
Session Eight

Tearsday, 6th of Maee, 4762 SR

Oh, this path I stride, all to gain distance from my carceral fate. I fear, however, that I merely supplanted one prison for another. Misters Rockseeker and Hallwinter needed a silver tongue and a gilded name, yet the irony presented by the weight of their purse does not escape me. Delivering “goods, provisions” the identity of which I am not yet privy to, and escorting a caravan – oh how the Barrington name has been tarnished!

Further indignities were suffered in my task to recruit an apparent adventuring party of nudists. Though their garb may be lacking, I can of course discern the formidable look about them. My pride was stripped bare once again when Mister Rockseeker provided no additional compensation for my enlistment efforts, and compounded insult further by riding with Mister Halwinter onward to Phandalin without me. Their instruction was at least more clear than their intent: take the caravan to Phandalin and deliver the goods to Barthen’s. At the very least, I have been liberated from the stench of cheap Dwarven ale.

Of course, without my expert assistance, their lives may be forfeit. We happened upon the corpses of fallen equine beasts on the road, and before I was able to conduct a proper investigation, we were set upon by the lowliest of goblins. My lessons with the blade were well received, and I was able to impart their tutelage with great effect.

I delegated the task of removing the impeding horse flesh to the side of the road (road – I use the term loosely) to my now-clothed companion, and a path was discovered leading away from the grizzly scene of my afternoon seminar. A maven-like application of deductive reasoning lead us to the following conclusions: 1) Our employer was dragged by goblins into the forest, and 2) the most prudent course of action would be to follow the path – and abandon our caravan.

Sincerely Yours,

Barnaby Barrington

Rescuing our Employers
Session Nine

Tearsday, 23rd of Nuvemben, 4762 SR

It is only because we are taking a short rest that I have time to Chronicle the perils we’ve faced while working for the Rockseekers. A band of brigands have taken our employer, Gundren Rockseeker, and his guardian, Sildar Hallwinter, captive. After tracking them through the woods, we’ve found a small cave that appears to be their hideout. After dispatching the sentries, and a few mangy wolves in the front corridor, we found Hildar being held hostage by some Goblin captain, Yeemik, the Foul. He did not actually introduce himself with the title, “The Foul”, but one sniff of this place and it seems well placed. Alas, he will not have a chance to change this legacy as he attempted to bargain with Sildar’s life, and called our bluff as to not save him. He threw Hildar from a ledge, upsetting Kulthar to no end. Kulhar was on him within seconds, and removed any semblance of a face Yeemik had with one swift swing of us club. Luckily, Sildar survived the fall, and I was able to stabilize him using Altua‘s holy will. We were able to interrogate one of the remaining Goblins, and determined the leader of this entire hideout’s name is Klarg (Who is apparently constantly in a power struggle to control this horde according to Yeemik) and that Gundrin has been taken to another location where King Grol of the goblins is at. Apparently they are looking for a map to the entrance Phandelver’s Pact, a place of great magic and wealth in older times, and believe Gundrin can give it to them. The goblin’s yammering was difficult to understand, so it’s possible I am mistaken on this and they already have the map. I will need to learn more and update my findings.

Below are other musings regarding our current situation.

Phandelver’s Pact was a mine that both gnomes and dwarves agreed to mine over 500 year ago for wealth and magical advancement. Eventually, humans were brought in to the operation to create a magical forge of spells. Later though, an orcish army with mercenary wizards laid siege, attempted to take it for their own but sadly destroyed a large portion and the entrance to it instead, loosing most of the information regarding it. It is only by chance that one in our group knew this information at all.

Also, the goblins we are currently at odds with are working for an entity know as the “Black Spider” – It would be wise to learn more about this character and their intentions.

As always, I continue to be blessed by Altua. By his will, we will make through this wretched cave and I will be able to update this journal with more of our adventures.


That Moist Embrace
Session Ten

Tearsday, 23rd of Nuvemben, 4762 SR

I…don’t know what’s happening to me…I seem to be fading in and out of existence…I can’t seem to remember what happened for the last few days, but today is burned in my memory…at least part of it…

When I awoke from whatever haze I was in, my companions were charging up a trash chute. With little to no knowledge of what had occurred in the interim of my memory, I charged forward assuming my companions were working towards our mutual benefit. I skipped up the trash chute and found us surrounded by a phalanx of goblins. Not long after I arose from the depths, a bugbear joined their side and…then my memory trails off again…

When I awoke the second time, we had been captured, but were left to our own devices in the deep, foul smelling keep. Apparently they thought so little of our party that they didn’t mind allowing us some space. Well this time they were mistaken. I lit up one of them with a blast of fire and with the light that provided, along with some lightning, we were able to dispatch our few captors. Now, with some luck, my memory will hold out and we will pursue…wait – what are we here for? I’ll have to check in with one of my companions and see…if only that toothless wench were still here…I long for that moist embrace…


People to See and Places to Go
Session Eleven

Tearsday, 23rd of Nuvemben, 4762 SR

We have made it to Phandalin, we have learned much, we have much more to learn.

The New people we have met:
1.) Elmar Barthen. He is a human male, aged to his 50s, and owns Barthen’s Provisions. He knows the Rockseekers, seems to have hired them to get goods for him. Upon learning about the disappearance of said Rockseekers, he claimed the goods that we brought back from the raid on the goblins. I am skeptical that these were his but he did pay us each 10 gold for the delivering of said supplies. Seems to be bullied by local gang the Redbrands. Also has much distaste for the town master, Harbin Wester.
2.) Linene Greywind. She works at the Lionshield Coster. She seems to not know much but did mention Yartar as the origin of the Lionshield Merchant Company. We mentioned the weaponry, marked with the Lionshield logo, in the caves guarded by Goblins and she paid the group 50 gold for finding these undelivered goods.
3.) Pip Stonehill. A small child, with a large imagination it seems. He has told of the dragon he slayed, though I can’t believe that my ancestors would be easy enough for a child to defeat. He claims that his friend, Carp Alderleaf, has found some sort of tunnel in the woods and was almost caught by the Redbrands.
4.) Qelline Alderleaf. A half-ling that mothers the child Carp. She justifies my thoughts on the child Pip in that he tells tall tales and shouldn’t be taken seriously. I knew he couldn’t have killed a dragon on his own.

Places we have gone:
1.) Barthen’s Provisions. Here Barnaby, Kulthar, and maybe Dnalor bought supplies. I was not idiotic enough to spend my coin in such a shop as the selection was grossly overpriced and quite under whelming.
2.) Lionshield Coster. A place to buy weapons, but not of stellar quality in my opinion.
3.) Stonehill Inn. This place is rather disgusting in my eyes but it will do, as a modest room only cost 8 silver.
4.) Alderleaf Farm. Home to the half-lings. Even in the dark I could tell that the people of Phandalin have mediocre tastes in living conditions.

As I a fore mentioned, the Redbrands. This is a gang of hoodlums that follows no formal law. They shake down the local businesses and leave fear in their wake.
The town has a governing type headmaster, Harbin Wester. As far as I can tell no one cares for this Wester fellow and I can’t seem to fathom how he has remained in power. My only conclusion is that he and the Redbrands are in cahoots of sort.

I’m sure that my crew of adventurers will want to take as much time as possible in the god forsaken town. I stay quietly in the background and observe. I feel as if I am surrounded by nothing but idiots and if I don’t stay quiet, I may find myself lacking an entourage. I will patiently wait for the need of my help but I can’t guarantee I won’t be judging everyone silently.



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