Fires of Dis: ECL 5 Faerevan Faustwiil Arcane Gnome Wild Mage 5: Entry 3

Through might of arms and magic, we prevail against tower and fiend alike. Upon arriving in Fortitude, find ourselves pressed into service again. Our foe, the undead and the possessed owner of Guardian the holy sword freshly retrieved from Dis.

Victorious! For now we have restored order. However, as I look around, I see looks of disdain. Accusing scowls, from the ultimate in lawful crowds, press in on us. We accomplished what the whole of their city couldn’t. Congratulations, payment, and rest is in order, not this lawyering over our methods. I’m close to saying “Their ascension is damned!”

…I miss my lair…

Fires of Dis: ECL 4 Ashbeard Treant 4, entry 3

Even in the land of Law, chaos finds its way in. The whole purpose for our quest has been for naught, for although we have done all that is required, the Ascension was nearly ruined. I do not know yet if it will still take place, as the paladin in charge was possessed by a devil. After a battle we could neither win not lose, we await the results. In a city of law, will our actions be judged as wrong doings? Or shall we be considered heros for saving the city, and their prized paladin. After it is all said and done, if the ascension fails, Arriving safely in Sigil is the best I can hope for.

Fires of Dis: ECL 5 Daerev Wer'Vrinpict Dragonborn Dragon Shaman 5: Entry 1

Since my transformation I have not been able to write, but I believe I have now gotten used to my new form.  I suppose there must be quite a bit of catching up to do, but for the sake of my impatience I will simply provide a summary of recent events.  Having grown up in Sigil along with two unusual creatures whom I call friend- and would give my life for- going on an adventure seemed like the thing to do.  Little did I know how involved our little quest would be, even garnering the attention of several greater powers.  Somewhere along our travels our little trio (Fearevan, Tore, and I) happened to pick up a couple new friends.  One is a Drider, a beast as uncommon among the residents of Sigil as an angel is in the underdark.  The other is a talking tree.  I'm sure that there is a name for whatever this thing is but I don't know it, nor do I care.  It is a powerfully strong creature that may not be the best tactician but has proven quite useful several times along our road.  I don't know what their story is and I haven't bothered to ask.  I probably never will.  Whatever their reasons for joining us and walking this dangerous road with us is their own business.  I just now must pay closer attention to which way I blast my fire as I don't want to set the tree on fire any more than I want to burn the troll.  We have succeeded in an important mission.  We retrieved the holy sword know as Guardain from the depths of Hell itself.  Having travelled straight to the Iron Tower, the home of Dispater lord of the second level of Hell, we recovered the sword at what I fear may be great personal cost.  Twice now we have had to face and defeat the risen dead, groups of holy men known as paladins that were brought to an unnatural animation that is a perversion of life.  Not wanting to desecrate the bodies of the dead, much less men I would have had great respect for had I known them in life, I feel great sadness at the events we partook in.  We were forced to fight and harm a great man in order to rid him of an evil possession.  I did everything in my power to try to stop the evil from gaining a foothold in the town of Fortitude, a place so holy that it will actually ascend to Arcadia if we can manage to protect it during the ceremony.  Surrounded by so much goodness I can't help but feel a little out of sorts as I have not seen a sign of the grace of Bahamut for quite some time, but my faith will not faulter as I am proven time and again to gain in the dragon like might.  My closest friends have stood by my side all these years and never once questioned my decision to change my very being and devote myself to the dragon goddess.  If I ever get the chance again I will find that pit fiend give him a taste of breath.

Fires of Dis: ECL 4 Faerevan Faustwiil Arcane Gnome Wild Mage 4: Entry 2

The party now numbers five. As always, the dragon marked and the fearless troll, stand beside me. Along the way we've gained a female drider (probably Lloth’s avatar) and a talking tree. I don’t know what to make of them.

This tower is a cursed thing and infinite in mystery and torment. Many rooms we have accessed, through the portal key rose we carry. All rooms are horrifying, and most are deadly. Not only are the rooms trying to mislead us with maze like efficiency, the tree is adding to the misery. At every turn Ashbeard tries to get us killed. Turning a Githzeri against us being the least of this tree’s ineptitude. Ashbeard is perpetually dumb, or perhaps an agent of Dispater himself. I’m thinking of creating a talking siege engine, perhaps a talking quarter staff...

Fires of Dis: ECL 3: Ashbeard Trent 3: Entry 2

The last I remember was the sharps pain echoing through me. At that moment I knew it was over. It was insant, but not painless. I can still hear the screams of the damned when I close my eyes. It is this reason I am glad I do not sleep. I understand now, the ways of men and adventurers. Deceit and lies fill their world to the brim, leaving little room for honesty. I will strive to change that. I have found a cause in life, and dedicate myself to it. I will never again fall when I stand to protect my comrades. Even the gnome will know my protection.

Fires of Dis: ELC 3 Ashbeard Treant 3: Entry 1

My name is Ashbeard. Not sure why. I'm not made of ash. I'm a Teak wood Trent. I know what you're thinking. And yes, teak is a rare tree to be in hell. But I make due. Most the time, I do well enough. I've found decent companions and am well on my way back to my forest. The gnome looks at me like I'd make a better chair than travlling companion though. Greedy lot, the gnomes. Better than devils, I suppose. They made a sport of chasing me with axes. Or setting me on fire. What ever they were in the mood for. I hate fire. It burns. A lot. Only thing innate more than magic lockers is fire. I wonder if I should have stayed in the city. Probably would have been better for my health. The group I travel with now seems to be cursed. Room full of skeltons, flying chains, bottomless pit, trolls... Misfortune round every curve. I don't blame the party, with exception of the gnome maybe. He seems like the cause of all this. One minute he's a small little man, the next he's flying or as tall as the dragon man. It worries me. He doesn't know what he's doing, I think. I can't wait to get home. I will throw a big party when I do. All the dryads will come, and my new friends. Well, maybe not the gnome.

Fires of Dis: ECL 3 Bruhgos Drider 3: Entry 1

Quinna Zin'Zirri, a name all but destroyed, since my damnation. You may call me Bruhgos, damned, or simply drider. I was once favored daughter of house Zin'Zirri. Now, a loathsome creature, set on vengence. I will do whatever it takes to garner the force nessessary to take down that malevolent house. To that end I have joined a party in search of some holy relic. In the Nine Hells we roam. Perhaps there is an artifact here to help me in my quest...

Fires of Dis: ECL 4 Faerevan Faustwiil Arcane Gnome Wild Mage 4: Entry 1

I, Faerevan Faustwiil am a somewhat renowned mage of Sigil, the City of Doors. I and several trusted companions have joined a quest, across the outer planes, for a stolen sword. From the hostile gate town of Ribcage, through the depths of the Abyss, and finally to the treacherous 2^nd level of Baator, known as Dis. We find ourselves lost in the tower of the Iron City. Shall we live to finish our quest I know not… A detailed account is in order, as it may be this life’s final testament…

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Fires of Dis: ECL 4 Shushan Turanis lesser fey'ri marshal 1, truenamer 3: Entry 1

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