In the early hours of the morn, there was a terrible ruckus at the town gate. Under the impression this was another delusion brought on by the Flesh Flayer Bitters, I did my best to ignore it. But it was persistent and soon I was off to discover the nature of this disturbance.

To my great surprise I was greeted by catapult fire and nearly took a flaming cauldron to the head. I immediately ran for shelter to survey the scene and get my bearings. A wayward Scout informed me that a siege had broken out and we had been swept up in the fracas.

Who the devil would want to lay siege to our town? What had we done? Is this some of retribution about that unpaid tavern bill or revenge for those pewter mugs that keep falling into my satchel? Either way, the situation seemed to have escalated violently before I could even come up with a plausible tale of deniability.

As this sort of miscreant behavior could lead to a broken crafting pavilion or smashed drinking establishment, I sallied forth to find who was in charge of this rabble and demand an explanation.

This was met with great resistance as I was soon beset with archers and thugs doing their best to cause me great personal injury. I put the thugs in their place then turned my attention to the archers. Those beguiling halfwits gave me yet another terrible arrow related knee injury, but I persevered and put an end to their villainy.

Storming up the hill to to quell the flaming cauldrons of oil that were surely going to hurt someone, I was pushed back by a multitude of siege engineers. They took great pride in their catapults and felt I was unqualified to handle one. They did me the indignity of tossing me down the hill and followed it with taunts and rude hand gestures.

I managed to exact revenge on one or two of the blighters, but they are a crafty lot and soon tossed me down the hill again. As I sat next to flaming wagon, I heard a commotion approaching. Taking shelter, I realized it was Oba and Alley. It appears they had been roused by the interminable noise and had come to investigate as well.

Sizing up the scene, they rushed up the hill to take umbrage with the siege engineers for their reckless behavior. Realizing the tide had dramatically shifting in our favor, I quickly followed suit.

I summited the hill to see that negotiations had broken down and the siege engineers were now talking to the business end of Alley’s sword, while they bathed in the cleansing power of Oba’s Ring of Fire. I joined the fray as best I could and soon took great satisfaction in looting their pockets and tossing them down the hill as they had done to me.

But this revealed a new menace. In the distance, a darkly cloaked figure loomed. I considered the situation as bleak, but Oba and Alley raced down into the valley. Alley lashed out without the need to discuss terms. Oba the nemesis in a wall of fire.

Realizing the tactics, I scurried down to join and did my best to stab this intruder right in the back side. He proved quite wily and agile, but try as he might, he wasn’t able to hide from fire and in the confusion backed himself into a corner. That’s when Alley and I laid into him.

It was only a matter of time before he was cut to ribbons. In all the tumult, he left behind his robe, which I have now taken possession of. It took a few dunks in the Devotional waters to remove the detritus and aroma, but it’s now quite a fashionable piece. Hopefully we’ll have no more of these shenanigans, at least, not at such an early hour.


Now see here, a siege engine is no sort of plaything. This sort of behavior is going to lead to an accident.


Looks like the tide has shifted! No point in running now!


You’re not the only one who can play with fire my friend!


Haha! You’ve committed one of the classic blunders!

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Still reeling from the emotionally shattering disappointment of finding head trauma rather than a mine cart ride in K’rul, I was dubious and hesitant to try my luck at the cart ride in Serpent Spine Foothills. But, since I was supervising the reform of the Thugs in the area, I decided to investigate the situation and satisfy my curiosity.

My hopes swooned as I entered the chamber and heard the distinct rumble of a mine cart on the move in the shadowy distance. To create an atmosphere of suspense, the Kobold operators lit the cavern with only the most meager of lighting. It felt both sinister and exciting, and I was giddy with anticipation.

I found the lever on the entry platform and the fun began in an instant as the bottom dropped out from under me. The descent was stomach-churningly rapid and I lost my sense of space as I plunged through the darkness.

With a bit of a spinning head, a Kobold attendant guided me to a platform and oncoming cart. This ride was for the more advanced thrill seekers as I would be required to make a leap to board the cart as having it come to a halt would spoil the fun.

The lamp approached out of the darkness and I made ready. I judged the speed of the cart, the angle of my take off, the velocity I would have to travel and then with a jocular cry of excitement I left the platform and hurled myself through the air.

I stuck the landing like a champion and was soon whisking through the darkness at maddening speed. The Kobolds cheered and stomped their feet and my marvelous entry. And seeing I was quite adept at the ride, they decided to add an element of excitement by standing on the platform to defend myself as they took practice jabs at me.

The first few strikes got the better of me, but within minutes I parried their blows and landed several of my own. I must admit, I got carried away and through force of habit set Immolation in motion and blazed through the darkness with an impressive tail of fire.

After dozens of loops, I leapt from the cart to the finishing platform where the Kobolds had a lovely waiting area. In all the darkness I had lost my usual keen sense of direction and took advantage of their accommodations and a refreshing beverage.

The Kobolds were such good hosts that they allowed me to open their prize chest. It was loaded with gold tokens for more rides and lots of colored glass trinkets. I made a very fashionable necklace from them, which I showed to my hosts. They were keen to pat me on the back for a job well done.

They encouraged me to come back any time and to not be gone too long as they were expanding their offering and would soon be heading deeper into the caverns to construct more thrilling rides.

Those K’rul Kobolds could learn a thing or two from this lot.


Oh my goodness, it really does exist!


Gadzooks! The speed is amazing!


Very well, I accept your challenge. As I come around, you will swing and I will defend!


Oh good gracious! Sorry about that! In all the excitement I got carried away and cast Immolation.
It does look quite impressive, you have to admit.



Ah, a lovely concession stand where I regain my bearing and have a refreshing beverage. Is that a prize chest over there? Is that for everyone?

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

It was a rather fine day as I walked through Deep Ravenswood, collecting Spider Silk. I was using my proven technique of setting the ground ablaze then running through a cluster of the beady-eyed vermin or hovering around a cluster of their yet to hatch pods.

It was all going rather splendidly, the cleansing power of fire curled their legs in a satisfying manner, while my Stone and Ice Fist, coupled with a dose of Thrust rendered them incapacitated. However, the tingling of the fire upon the ground, my ill treatment combined with the aroma of his smoldering kinsman must have raised the attention, then the ire of one of the larger spiders.

As I collected my rewards, I heard something coming over the rise. Expecting it to be a band of the Red Spiders I paid no heed. I’m quite capable of holding my own against even a hearty band of the furry devils.

I was correct in assuming it was a band of spiders. I was incorrect as to the nature of my adversary. As I saw a multitude of legs crest the incldine, I prepared and steadied myself. As the spiders came into full view, I felt my bowels turn to water.

A Large Red Spider on it’s own is not too mighty a combatant. Even two can be dispatched with several key strikes. However, the Ferocious Red Spider that seemed to be the leader of this trio was far more than I bargained for. He marched straight toward me while his confederates flanked my sides blocking my escape. In an instant, he put a bite on me that brought me to my knees.

His venom was shocking powerful and it was quite obvious I was in desperate trouble. The poison went straight to my head, preventing me from casting any defensive spells that might extricate me from my predicament. I fumbled with the sword and leveled some powerful retaliatory strikes, but it wouldn’t be enough.

Perhaps it was good fortune. Perhaps it my was blood curdling scream for help. But on the spot appeared Alley, who, seeing my stumbling amidst the trees and rocks and the trail of spiders following me, surmised my tactical error.

In an instant, she was in the fray, quelling the bloodlust of the Large Red Spiders and pushing back the Ferocious Red. As I lay on the ground, amidst delirium and panic, another figure appeared. In my fragile state, he came in the form of the Reaper. I was disappointed that my end should come this way, or come at all.

I was on the point of trying to strike a deal when there was a blinding flash of searing heat. This was immediately followed by the roar of fire and the powerful stench of burning spiders. The fire and brimstone was at hand!

But as I regained my senses, I saw this mysterious figure harnessing the power of Fire and Sun magic to surround and contain the Ferocious Red Spider. Alley was also delivering a savage series of blows that rendered the spider lifeless.

While I looked on, they dashed across the open field and set another Ferocious Red Spider as their target. Again, there were fierce attacks from Alley’s steel while the spider was consumed in fire and blisteringly scalded with Searing Ray.

I followed as best I could as they dispatched multiple spider dens and put to rest several Ferocious Red Spiders. I knew Deep Ravenswood was dangerous, but when did all these ridiculously large and powerful spiders make their home here?

With all the spiders burnt beyond recognition the mysterious figure stopped to check on my condition. Much to my relief, it wasn’t the Reaper at all, but rather it was Oba wearing a terribly fashionable mask.

"Well, good to see you aren’t dead," he said and bounded off down the path, a trail of fire in his wake.

"Good to still be alive," I replied as I collapsed on a rock.


Take that you furry legged spawn of evil! You and your wicked envenomating ways are about to come to an end!


Oh, hi Oba. I didn’t recognize you with the fashionable new mask you’re wearing. Nab that from an Obsidian Overlord did you?

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

I’m not sure what it is, but am awestruck by it’s scale and design. Just above our local stream, Oba has begun construction on a project I can only describe as epic. I say that because I have no idea what he’s up to or the purpose of this magnificent edifice.

As you cross over the bridge you can’t help but be taken by the myriad of columns, vines and statuary all placed with such random good taste and precision as to be infinitely tasteful and decorative.

When I entered the sanctuary, I was taken with it’s cooling and relaxing aura. I also became lost by following the winding footpath laid before me. It’s a snaking course that had me going in circles around the central columns. It took many tries to realize that I need to zig instead of the usual zag to make my way out.

The statuary is extremely elegant and the columns have a majestic aged quality. I’m anxious to see the final product, assuming of course it’s not completed.

I suspect this could be the beginnings of his new vineyard or perhaps a lovely garden where we can all come to meditate upon the virtues. I would ask the man himself, but he is elusive and chooses to work under the cover of darkness.


I say! What a marvelous bit of construction we have here!


I believe I will have to take a look. Hopefully this is not some sort of evil labyrinth with a terrible creature at the center waiting to devour me!


That is some fine statuary you have there. And an abundance of columns too.
I dare say, it is quite magnificent, whatever it is.

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

Our original visit to Upper Fortis had been sidetracked by marvelous log rides and late night propulsions into the heavens. But it was time to get to the serious business of this dispute and I saw at once the root of the problem.

While their garments don’t speak of such, the Kobolds are fine innovators with a vast array of inventions for work and domicile. Even their dwellings speak to a fine sense of craftsmanship and durability. On the other hand, the Thugs and Bandits, owing to their nomadic and distrustful lifestyle have yet to master the art of hammer and nail. As such, their dwellings are a spectacular sight of disordered misery. Merely looking at their shanty village fills you with a sense of disease.

Further, since the Kobolds have chosen iron as their material of choice, they taunt the Thugs, who have yet to advance beyond simple wood planks, with catapults loaded with flaming cauldrons of oil. While I admit the fiery payload is an amusing jibe, it does come across as callous and a dash on the dangerous side. Should one of the projectiles be taken off course by a gust of wind, or have a touch too much vigor in it’s arc, the Thug shanty town will be a raging inferno. While that may serve those red sash wearing hooligans right, it will be a blight on the town and most certainly lower property values.

And upon further reflection, it could be considered a senseless waste since there will be no one to loot the bodies for coins and weapons.

I took it upon myself to discuss matters with a Kobold that looked to be in charge. I explained that sending balls of flame across the bridge to the tinderbox known as the thug encampment could lead to a terrible disaster and some might find this to be a cruel prank.

He ignored my reasoning and ordered more flame for the catapult. While it did look spectacular against the evening sky, I insisted this was an improper way to build relations with his neighbor. I offered that perhaps his people could help those less fortunate than themselves and guide the nomads in the ways of metal work and solid home building.

My argument was defeated by the clarion call of, "Fling!" as fire streaked across the sky.

Alley encountered the same resistance. Instead of working to help the Cabalist move off the side of the rocky crag, they felt teasing them with fire and accepting the occasional hit and destruction of their shelters was good clean fun and had no intentions of bringing the gaiety to an end. They even offered Alley a try at the launch arm of the catapult, of which I was much jealous.

It wasn’t a total loss though, I’ll be back for some more log rides and Alley was quite keen on the Air Powered Propulsion System.


Oh dear me, this will never do. I see why you chaps are living fear of those Kobold Catapults.


Now look here, I’m trying to help! If I wanted to cause a ruckus, I would merely cast Immolation and mock you for your poor choose in building materials.


Come now wolves, I have no time for this! This is a terrible place to settle a dispute.



Oh, steady on. I think I begin to see why the Thugs want to make this their base of operations.

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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