Pixie

( and Ghraul )

[possessedpixie-dnd]

Diary Entries

1. The story so far

2. A daunting endeavor 

3. A warm welcome

4. Waterdeep creep

5. A kindly offer

6. Not quite to plan

[possessedpixie-dnd]

6. Not Quite to Plan

I met with Gundrens group in the Nags head which was interesting. I assumed I’d be tagging along with some guards but these people all looked out of place. There were 3 of them, firstly a dwarf named Eigar (not too sure on spelling) who was actually Gundren’s cousin. She looked quite thuggish, completely bald but was very short, even for a dwarf. She was apparently a cleric but she carried a warhammer and shield, she looks like she wants to fight everything. Next was Leif, a huge Northman, he wore no armor, barely any clothes but carried a greatsword as tall as he was. He seemed nice and enthusiastic but not too bright, I’m not sure where he is from but it’s definitely not local as he doesn’t seem to understand many sayings. Finally was Eradin, an elf spellcaster of some sort, I like him, he doesn’t seem to fit in well and acts really awkwardly, he was wearing a transparent coat of sorts, for someone so shy he seemed fine with bearing much of himself, but he seems very smart anyway.

After introductions we set off with our oxen drawn cart but at about half a day to Phandalin we were stopped at some dead horses in the middle of the road. Goblins ambushed us from the trees, Leif ran straight in, Eradin hid under the cart. I tried to help Eradin as I know what its like to succumb to fear, I’m not sure if it worked as Ghraul took over. I remember charging 2 goblins next to Leif and unleashed a huge force of thunder from my lute throwing all 3 back. I didn’t mean to hurt Leif but I couldn’t stop myself. We managed to fight them off, Leif completely squashing one with a hammer and the final goblin ran scared from me, crying. Out of danger we learned that the dead horses belonged to Gundren so he must’ve been ambushed too. We had a task to complete so continued on. Unfortunately when we dropped off Gundrens delivery we were denied payment, Gundren hadn’t arrived and we would not be paid until he did, so back we went to the ambush point.

I felt so stupid that I’d missed tracks of people being dragged from the ambush site. We followed the tracks down a path laid with traps which we fortunately avoided. We were trying not to draw attention to ourselves but Eigar makes such a racket, I don’t know if she is deaf or just has the grace of a Ogre. Still we discovered a cave that a band of goblins were hiding out in and after Ghraul terrified their guard wolves, Leif managed to pass the wolves to a small tunnel to where their leader was. I followed him, keeping quiet, somehow for a big man he is stealthy too, but our presence was detected the moment Eigar followed us, shes so noisy. Leif and Eigar managed to fight off this bugbear leader with his wolf but Ghraul finished the job. It was horrible, I just walked over to the bugbear, grabbing his head in my hand and slowly pulling it down onto my rapier, I heard the gurgles as it penetrated his throat and smelled his putrid breath. I may have been sickened but it helped us. Searching the cave we found more goblins with a human prisoner, not Gundren unfortunately. We promised not to hurt the rest of them if they released the man, not sure if they would have but one was happy to hear that their leader had died and wanted to take over.

We left the cave with some valuables we’d found and the man who revealed to be Sildar Hallwinter. It was Gundrens friend who he was travelling with. He told us what had happened to them and that Gundren may have been captured by someone the goblins called the ‘Black Spider’. Of course with a name like that it is certainly bad news. Sildar was a member of the Gryphon cavalry, which sounded like a group of righteous knights straight out of one of fathers’ novels. We have made camp back on the road as it has been a tiring few days and Sildar told us an amazing story of a magic mine called Wave Echo Cave which was lost to the ages after a huge battle between orcs and and an alliance of humans, dwarves and gnomes to control the mine. This mine was the one Gundren, and his 2 brothers as it turned out, wanted to find and reopen.

P.S. Be friends with Leif, he has already squashed a goblin into nothing but red mist, hit ones head so hard it went inside its chest and even cleaved 2 goblins in half in one swing. 

[possessedpixie-dnd]

5. A Kindly Offer

A week now I have spent walking the roads and alley ways of this city. What little money stolen from the guards in Waterdeep has long been used up and I have returned to the terrifying prospect of seeking shelter at night hidden in alcoves and archways amongst beggars. Each day I pack my belongings and wander, hoping to find a new tavern, theatre or travelling mummers willing to employ a musician. I feel I’ve approached each one in the city but I have not walked every street yet. Each one at best kindly declines with some recycled excuse and at worst I get laughed or chased away. Maybe I should have headed to Baldurs Gate instead or I can return to Daggerford where I was accepted even though it was hardly a great prospect. Either way it would mean passing back through Waterdeep, an idea that I am not willing to entertain.

I may not have to just yet anyway as today I was made an offer of work. While I was begging near a market, plucking carelessly away on my lute hoping for a few charitable coppers so I can eat, an elderly dwarf came up to me. He had a kind face and laughed every other sentence, he said his name was Gundren and gave me a silver piece. I was of course very grateful but it seemed overly generous. We talked for a little while, he was curious how someone as young as me ended up living on the streets, I avoided the truth but told him I was trying to find employment. He made me an offer of work, it wasn’t for music but at this point it doesn’t matter I’m far too hungry and need to sleep in a bed once more. He told me he just needed someone to help escort some goods down south for some expedition he was preparing. It sounded easy and would pay very well. Maybe my journey won’t keep me here long, maybe after working for him I’ll have enough coin to travel to other cities or even train under a real Bard College. That’s a matter to decide later, I just need to get through a few more days here before I leave with Gundrens group.

[possessedpixie-dnd]

4. Waterdeep Creep

Waterdeep. Hardly the glorious metropolis it thinks it is, at least from my point of view that is. I tried a few taverns asking for work and only got pointed in the direction of the nearest brothel. I ended up in the Dock ward, dirty surrounded by drunks, thugs and cheap ageing whores. I came across The Mermaid’s arms where I spoke to the owner, she at least gave me time to talk before kicking me out. She asked me my name, so I told her. She didn’t understand why I had no last name. I wouldn’t use Featherdale as it would remind me far too much of home, which I dearly miss now. She suggested I create a name, something that will sound like a great bard that’s easy to remember, I will give this some thought. She allowed me to audition for her, I played one chord and then she kicked me out. Hag!

It was late in the evening and I was tired, I found an alcove in an alley way out of sight of anyone and tried to fend off the cold sea air as I slept. I was awoken to a blunt pain in my back. “Wretch,Get up and Fuck off, no vagrants here”. He kicked me again. I rolled over to see two men, one lean and one fat, both fairly ugly and showing signs of age, wearing official looking armour and insignia, guardsmen perhaps. When they saw my face, their expressions changed. The lean one who had been kicking me glared greedily at me, he knelt down with one forearm across my chest pinning me down and the other hand reaching down while telling his mate to keep watch and he can go next. The guard told me to “keep quiet or...”. He never got another word out, my eyes were blazing, I saw the very air around me shimmering as a mirage. He was stunned silent. An explosion of noise erupted from my very body like a strike of thunder and he was thrown into the opposite wall of the alley where he fell limp to the floor. His friend too had been thrown to the floor but was just coming out of a daze, staring up to see me step over him and have my foot stamp down on his neck. Over and over I stamped, in the jaw, in the face until he was unrecognisable. The fire faded, I looked at what I had done and felt sick. Shaking I grabbed their coin purses and fled keeping to the alley ways and hiding until morning when I left through the north gate as soon as I could.

I miss my parents dearly now. I will not return yet after all this time but I will remember to send them a letter as soon as I can. At least they will know I am safe. Strangely thanks to Ghraul.

I am now in Neverwinter. Maybe it’s the weather that is brighter or the less offensive smell, but I feel better about here than that shite hole of Waterdeep. Neverwinter isn’t as big but there are many cultures I have already seen, a mix of tastes and styles, surely here I will find an audience.

On the road I keep having a recurring dream. I am surrounded by darkness except for a beam of light shining in me, I am alone but I feel the presence of hundreds of eyes watching me in silence. I feel my heart race like I am about to do something great or have just achieved some legendary feat. I look down and I am holding my Lute, It feels like it’s mine but it looks nothing like the one I have in waking. It has the body of a bearded axe with a sturdy haft strung as a lute. There are intricate designs all over and I know it still makes the same almighty sound but feels solid enough to be wielded as a weapon.

I will inquire with blacksmiths and instrument craftsmen alike to see if such an object can be realised. I’ll not be able to afford anything anytime soon regardless as yet again I am out of money.  

[possessedpixie-dnd]

3. A Warm Welcome

Another hard month of travel, my feet are tougher than hide, my shoulders and back are iron and my legs leaner than any workhorse. I have become more accustomed to the road. I am more sure of whom i may approach safely and those of which I should be wary. I stray far enough from the road to stay hidden when camped and never light a fire when it’s dark lest I draw attention.

From Easting, I continued on the path west for two weeks, there were a few villages and towns in this area where I begged and played a few songs to earn enough copper for hot food. I try to play to a style in keeping with local folk but Ghraul thinks differently. His wails and shouts along with the sound of thunder emanating from my lute hurries people on their way tutting and shaking heads. Regardless though I didn’t starve before making it to Boareskyr Bridge where I met an interesting group of Dwarves.

Around the bridge was a shanty town of caravans and tents, I came to learn most everyone there was a trader or merchant of sorts. Wandering through I spotted a kindly looking although maybe a bit down on their luck group of dwarves. I introduced myself and offered a song to share their fire. They were all laughing and very welcoming, they passed me a bottle of some incredibly potent smelling spirit which I had to politely decline. I asked of them what kind of song they would like to hear as I plucked a few notes. To my surprise they said they were sick of the same ballads played everywhere along the sword coast and if that’s all I had to offer they would happily give me food and drink all day and night to silence me. So I didn’t play that. They sat in silence expectantly as I raised my hand up and struck down upon the strings. Such a sound, they seemed to be physically pushed back off their benches. The cries of a hellcat coming from the lute seemed to create its own driving rhythm as if multiple bards were playing in unison. Ghrauls voice wailed out a tale of some celestial battle I had no knowledge of, once again my skin felt hot, my vision red and I was not in complete control, but it didn’t matter. They loved it, they sat there with mouths agape and stamping along. people of other camps wandered over to see, some obviously disgusted but still many smiling. Finally, others who could enjoy my music. Afterwards we talked and laughed, I even tried a sip of their spirit which burned more than Ghraul does when he takes control. They told me my hair turns dark red and my eyes were like staring in to a forge and the air around me seemed to shimmer with heat. Yet somehow they loved it, they were not afraid, they admitted they thought it was some trick to carry the drama of the ballad, which I admitted to rather than reveal the truth.  One of the Dwarves, Angus, was heading home to Daggerford and offered me lift in his cart.

It was still far to go and took another ten days to reach. On the way I rested much and learned more of the sword coast from Angus. He told me dreadful stories of Dragonspear castle as we passed by seeing it perched atop the hills and he told me where in Waterdeep it may best be to avoid. He told me of a tavern in Daggerford where they might pay me to play music for an evening and he told me of his home in a hamlet outside of Daggerford where he let me stay for the night in the softest bed I have ever been in. He was so kind that I will not soon forget him.

I found the tavern Angus had told me of, The Dragon back Inn, and spoke to the owner. Angus had not lied, the owner was more than welcoming of interesting new artists, he said ‘the weirder the better’. That evening I played for an hour to a similar reception to Boareskyr bridge. I got paid enough for a room for the night and a few rations. I was loving the sword coast, they loved my music although the innkeeper told me that they may not appreciate it as much in Waterdeep as they were more snooty and traditional. In any case thats where I will try my luck and I could always continue on, I was starting to enjoy the life of a traveling bard. 

[possessedpixie-dnd]

2. A Daunting Endeavor

I have never left the Dales before. My journey is only made more difficult without a copper to my name. A month I have traveled for and made it through Cormyr. I have been sticking to the main roads which are more frequently traveled by others, despite not being guarded they feel more secure than crossing through country.

I had taken enough food to see me out of the Dales, I did not want anyone questioning me and returning me home. Since then i have often been hungry, I have caught rabbits and foraged for wild berries and edible plants, even stolen some carrots from someones vegetable patch, but I was starving, I’m sure they will not miss them.

The hardest moment so far was crossing the Thunder Peaks into Cormyr. I had heard of Orcs hiding in the hills where they raid into the Dales and Cormyr. It wasn’t the steeper trails and increased danger that made it hard though, it was at this point I truly felt I was leaving home and heading into the unknown. Fortunately no trouble found me bar a few heavy rainfalls, but with my hood pulled up to both shield me from the weather and prying eyes I continued on through. I reached a ruin of a no longer inhabited town called Tilverton, from here I had the choice to take a direct path through the Stonelands, this borded the Shadow lands and was known to reside orcs, or to head south through more mountains, the Stormhorns, this would of course add many more miles. I decided on the safer route south. Before crossing the Stormhorns I came across a logging camp bordering the Kings forest. From afar they seemed unthreatening so I approached asking to join them at their fire. It was approaching dusk and the chance of real cooked food was too tempting. I offered them a song in exchange for food, which they accepted, although I think they would have been generous anyway. They were a friendly company of humans, a couple of dwarves and an elf who I think was their leader. I sang a simple tale of home in my own voice, I struggled to keep Ghraul at bay sometimes to not scare people, they said it was beautiful, I wonder what they would make of Ghrauls music.

The loggers let me stay in their camp overnight where I felt safe and even gave me some more food to take with me before I left in the morning. They didn’t seem to wonder why a 16 year old girl is wandering alone which was strange but I’ll not tempt fate. The Storm horns came, more tough terrain, more rain and a few sleepless nights hearing various bestial noises from the darkness. One evening, as I was boiling some water over my camp fire, I was startled by a wolf. It walked with a limp but was still twice my size. It approached staring straight at me, maw open and hungry. My heart was pounding, my skin turned hot and my vision tinted red. Without thinking I was leaping toward the wolf unsheathing the rapier at my side. I blinked, feeling myself again, my hand tightly gripping the sword of which was buried hilt deep in the wolfs mouth, blade protruding from the top of its bent back head and disappearing again into its back with a steadily spreading blood stained patch of fur. I have no idea what came over me, but I am safer for it.

I made it over the mountains and have reached a small village called Easting. I asked a nice looking elderly couple for help, they offered to house me for tonight, It seems people want to help me for some reason, it certainly makes the journey easier. I miss my home now but it will not stop me, I will continue on.

Ghraul is becoming a problem, he has made me say things sometimes that I would never say and snap out, I have to cover for him and pretend I coughed which people never believe. I think he helped defend me against the wolf though, so I’m not wholly ungrateful for him. I think there is a link to my amulet to his behaviour, it feels hot when ever I try to subdue his urges, it can take some real will power but maybe with Silvanus’ help I am able to keep him at bay.

[possessedpixie-dnd]

1. The Story So Far

My name is Pixie. I grew up in Featherdale, one of the smaller Dales of the Dalelands in Faerun. Featherdale sits on the shore of the Ashaba river south of the Cormanthor forest. It is a small farming village where very little happens, save for occasional annual fayres. It is a peaceful place but dull, no trouble but nothing exciting either beyond an occasional story from travelers passing through of events which are months old by the time they reach us.

I’ve always loved music, there’s something magical about it, somehow it seems more than just plucking, strumming and beating instruments, it has the power to effect people, to inspire and give hope. When I was of 10 years my Father and Mother bought for me a Lute. It was the greatest gift I have ever received. I played it at every spare moment when not having to work the farm. I became quite adept at playing the lute, neighbours would want to listen to me play and I was even asked to perform at the end of harvest fayre. My songs, I felt were uninspired as there was naught to sing of in the Dales but farming, rivers and forests. I tried to come up with elaborate tales of adventure based on some of the news travelers brought but they never sounded more than rhyming nonsense. For years I tried to progress my musical ability, but being self taught and stuck in the Dales I was limited. I prayed for the Gods to give me the chance, over and over. This was my dream now, I wasn’t going to grow up in some unknown village when there was a whole world to explore and sing of.

For years I prayed and for years I had no answer. I was desperate now, willing to risk so much for the opportunity to become more. I found an old book belonging to my Father which detailed the different gods. We all knew of the ones to which we prayed often: Daghdha, god of weather and crops and Brigantia, goddess of livestock, but I never knew how many others there were. I read of Lugh, god of art and travel and Oghma, god of speech and writing. Surely these were the gods to answer my prayers.

One evening, I left for the Cormanthor forest to be alone, where I made a shrine of stacked rocks marked with symbols from the book with chalk and lit a candle. I knelt before this shrine and prayed. I prayed for hours, my knees throbbed and my back ached but I carried on, I would give most anything for a chance at becoming a great bard by now. No, the greatest bard. I must have fallen asleep, or so I thought as I can only remember blackness and silence before by head was split by a terrible shriek, sudden as lightning. I felt my insides burn and knot, my skin aflame and all I could see was a red and white hot light. I must have passed out as I awoke early the next morning to an evil guttural laughter. The voice was not of anyone else but from within my own head. I was terrified. The voice explained to me who he was and what had happened. Ghraul was this demons name. It seems the gods may be mocking me or this demon may have taken advantage of my situation but he said this was the price to have my wish granted. Ghraul will grant me powers and arcane knowledge but in return I am forced to be his host so he can experience the material plane. I was not sure what to make of this, I am horrified about the demon inside but maybe it will be worth it.

I returned to my home, my parents had been up all night waiting for my return, and the first thing I did was grab my lute. I have no idea how but my fingers had a mind of their own, they blurred as they rapidly ran up and down the neck. Such a sound has never been heard before, it was as if lightning itself was striking steel. My parents were shocked by what they saw and heard, they called it abhorrent and sinful, it was music to me and I wasn’t going to let them stop me. We argued all day. That night I sneaked out, taking a few belongings for the road, food, sword and my Lute. It pained me to leave my parents behind but I couldn’t live out my life in Featherdale, I kept with me my necklace with my amulet of Silvanus, given to me by my Mother, Ghraul for some reason was really opposed to this symbol, but it was my only souvenir of home.

I set off west to the sword coast, It will be a long road. I am not even sure of my destination, Baldurs gate, Waterdeep, Neverwinter? I will head for one of the main cities.