The Walking Damned: ECL 4, Zhangri'if Duskwood, Lesser Aasimar, Cleric 3/Sorcerer 2: Entry 8

I find myself in a very dark land - or at least to a dark time for this land.

Although my faith comes easily in my current circumstance, I have to remind myself to remain sanguine.  Every time I feel myself getting pulled into the dark brutality and desperation of my situation I must remember that THIS is my journey, I am not a victim here.  It is my duty to fulfill my potential and bring the light and positivity of the Seldarine into a realm beset by tragedy and evil.

I could not help Kona or Trebuchet.  They are departed.  Raised by the affliction and struck down again by their former allies - by us.

Eulogy for the Dead:

We shall not mourn for the departed

As we stride through these dark days

We will carry their memories with us

The strength and courage of Trebuchet

The cunning resilience of Kona

Their bodies and souls feed the multiverse

And new souls will be born in their place

This is the way of death and thus of life

A warrior must make peace with both

May the Seldarine guard and protect you

As you make your way in the next life

darkshelm Ecl 4 fighter/archer (exo

well yesterday went strange real fast... we were clearing out the barracks and came across some imperial trash.. but like grapes in a wine press my fellow travelers crammed themselves into a tight hallway and got the life juice squeezed out of them.. once the ranged combatants were able to make there play we quickly returned the favor.

so now were at a loss of 2 members  an elf and an orc. but surprisingly we picked up a beast of a man to join or ranks poor fellow has some sort of affliction rather ghastly ..  I'm sure his strengh  will aid my quest to find my family..

The Walking Dammed: ECL 5, Osiris Eloah, Elf Wizard, (Generalist) 5: Journal Entry 8

Death, everywhere I turn. Death and even more, undeath. The safety of the barracks proved, incorrect. The party was able to make short work of  the few straggling zombies we came across but I think it may never end. Fighting the undead is one thing but fighting other living beings, ridiculous! We lost two of our party today, the mighty Trebuchet, who fell on the front line while protecting us all and Kona, the Shield Elf, who gave his life so that others may live. I know that I will take his passing the hardest since it was he who first rendered help to me when I entered this now cursed city, for I landed the final blow to force an undead Kona back into a sleep that he will not soon rise from again. Both, whom I consider friends, struck down by living, breathing people. Why are we not fighting this undead curse together? Why? The first time in my life I don't have an answer but I know this, they will be avenged! After dispatching of the enemy, I made sure they would not rise prematurely, a dagger to the head will often do that. After my handy work I found a werebear shackled to the wall. After a brief discussion I decided to free him since I felt his strength will prove invaluable. As he searched for his belongs, Murag, disturbed an undead rat swarm that took the entire party to defeat. I pray those are few and far between and we are getting close to a resting point for I carry the weight of a city in need, and I never disappoint!  

Walking Dead ECL 3, Navarre, Whisper Gnome, Paladin of Freedom level 3:Bio

"One of my men told me you'd returned. I wanted to cut his throat for lying, cuz I KNEW you weren't that stupid."

The gnome turned his head slowly and tried to shift the human child a little higher on his back. The boy was barely conscious and wasn't doing much on his part to hang on.

"We've known each other long enough, Joren. We both know you don't need a reason to cut someone's throat."

The warden advanced into the alley behind the guards' headquarters and drew his longsword. "Indeed. But I'd say this time I won't even get a second look for killing two 'escaping prisoners' - much less a hearing."

"You need to stop now. Now!"
   
"Or what, little worm?" Joren took two more large steps forward, cutting the distance between the enemies in half.
       
"Or this." The gnome  reached into an open bag at his belt and yanked out a ring of keys. He held them up just long enough for the captain to see them, then tossed them into an open grating against one grimy wall. There was a satisfying "sploosh" followed by a more satisfying "MY MISSING KEYS!"

"Not just your keys." The gnome reached into the bag and pulled out two more rings. "All the keys. So unless you want to fight the rats for them…." He raised an eyebrow and made tossing motions. "You need to stop."

"You've been a pain in my shoe my entire career! Eleven years I had to deal with your ugly face giving me grief."

This brought a sharp bark of a laugh. "So delicate you are! But let me refresh your memory. Twenty three DAYS total - not years -  you dealt with my face in your cells. Six. Not eleven….. six …. YEARS!" The gnome skidded a second set of keys across the stones and it clattered right up to the edge of the grate. "Six years is what I 'had to deal', walking around on YOUR handiwork."

Captain Joren made a halfhearted lunge for the keys, but when they didn't fall into the sewers, he turned and growled. "I shouldn't a-broke your legs those times. I shoulda CUT them OFF! Either way. How far you think a lame gnome carrying a lame boy is gonna get?"

"He's not lame. He's exhausted. You left him hanging in a cell, you bastard. For - what? 4 days now? No food? No water? So all pretense is gone. You're finally free to wallow in your own crapulence."
       
The captain glared, and then stood up straight and laughed. "Oh! This is beautiful! You've had a mid life change of heart. Gone and become a holy defender for a city you'd just as soon watch sink beneath the waves. Hahahaha! Hells, but you make a piss poor excuse of a paladin."

"You have a piss poor excuse of a city, old man. I assume it will take whatever defenders it gets."

"This is bigger than anything you could imagine little worm." Joren began advancing slowly. "This is changing-of-an-age big. You really think you can make the tiniest difference? To anyone?"

A small shrug. "Made a difference to this one. And you don't listen very well." The gnome crouched and flung the last set of keys hard between the captain's legs. Joren spun and saw them bang against the other ring, knocking it over the edge of the grate and into the sewer depths. The last ring teetered on its precipice - first one key dangling over the side. Then 2. Then 4.

"NOOOO!" Joren dropped his sword and dived for the last known keys to his fortress. He hit the ground with a thump and skidded over the metal grid, fumbling for the falling treasure. 2 gasps later, he froze, holding the tip of the last key between two fingers. Loud unnatural squeaking came up from below and he quickly (as he dared) lifted the keys out of their abyss and stood. The entire front of his captain's uniform was smeared with mud and slime from the alley stones. His sword lay at his feet, the precious keyring gripped in both his fists, and the gnome….

was gone.

Couldn't be! I know he didn't run past me!  Joren grabbed his sword and ran down the shadowy corridor. After 40 feet, it came to a dead end, with 3 open doors leading to 3 pitch black building interiors beyond. His clenched knuckles turned white with rage and he bellowed into the overcast sky.

"NAVARRE!"

Walking Damned ECL 4, Kona, Shield Elf, Battle Dancer 3/Fighter 1: Entry 9

to recap...

The Walking Damned: ECL 5 Riff Strongblade Human Warmage 5: Entry 7

I have met with nothing but death and danger since coming to this city.  Although I have found some good people to travel with, they still bring their own misfortune with them.  We lost two in a needless battle.  I say needless becuase we were fighting men; living, breathing, thinking, men.  Fighting the undead is necessary throughout our struggle to survive and escape the horror of this zombie infested city.  But against men who have the ability to reason, we should be able to negotiate our way around contention. 
When our friends fell in battle we did everything we could to get vengence on the ones responsible for their deaths.  Before this could be accomplished the bodies of our fallen allies rose back to un-life.  The cleric wasted no time in attempting to destroy them with the power of his faith.  One of them did not die immediately and I was forced to chase him down so that I could put an end to his false life that we may lay his body to rest poroperly.
Exhausted of spell power, and nearly exhausted physically I went back into combat seemingly as the only one left among us capable of slinging a blade.  I must continue to grow in martial power and arcane might if I am to be relied on by the others.
I can feel the weight of fate pressing down on me during this plight.  I know the balance of the universe is relying on me finding my way to the knowledge of the Sublime Way.  I have seen before the catastrophic failure that follows when knowledge is lost forever.  While I know nothing about the city we are in or its history, I know that many would consider it a great waste if the entirety of its existence were wiped from record.  My destiny might lie in saving the memory of this city as it once was, as well as continuing the legacy of my soul.

The Walking Damned: Web Episode 2: The Blood of Mneme

Only a small handful of families have shown up to the East Barracks. The city guard were expecting many hundreds of families. All available city guard have been called in for duty during this crisis. The guard that have shown up have made a perimeter around the families as they are ushered inside. Some guards are up on the roof manning the ballistas.

One of those families today is Thesius and his teen-aged son, Phobos, centaurs. Yes they were outsiders but they were accepted here just as well as if they had been human. Because Thesius was a retired imperial trooper. He was a veteran trained in the art of war, having fought in the Giant Wars for the emperor years ago. Ever since Phobos was old enough to lift a blade, Thesius has trained him in the Art. Just last week he had gotten his first set of full plate barding. Thesius could not have been more proud watching him being fit up by the blacksmiths.

And here they are today, Thesius and Phobos, together in their full plate barding and weapons of war. Young Phobos with his greatsword unsheathed and his back to the barracks, guarding his father. Already the child had stood next to his father while they both had killed dozens of the walking damned.

Many of them had been neighbors.

Some had even been his classmates from school.

But worst of all were the drops of blood falling from his blade even now. The blood of Mneme, his mother.

Now Thesius is all the family he has and he guards him with his life, turning his blade against the living and the walking damned alike if they get too close.

Thesius' hand comes to rest upon young Phobos' shoulder. "Come on inside, boy," he whispers as they vanish into the dark hall of the East Barracks entrance. "We are safe now."


***Comment on this Web Episode for an additional +5% xp for the next session.***

***Phobos is a playable replacement PC for someone if they want to use him. He is listed in the comments***

The Walking Damned: ECL 4, Zhangri'if Duskwood, Lesser Aasimar, Cleric 2/Sorcerer 2: Entry 7

Zombies are evil by their nature.  Unthinking.  Blind rage and a consuming hunger for the flesh of the living.  The calm calculating evil of man is far more sinister.

The so-called rulers and authorities of this land have revealed themselves to be uncaring and indifferent to the plight of their own subjects.  They would rather slaughter their own people wholesale than take the more difficult road to understand this plague and attempt to help.  Lazy and foolish.  This will be their shame and their downfall.

Evil acts make a man evil.  They must face judgment for their wickedness...and I will administer the verdict of My Lords.  There will be justice.

The Walking Dammed: ECL 4, Osiris Eloah, Elf Wizard, (Generalist) 4: Journal Entry 7

As we finally make it to the end of the tunnel, the barracks courtyard comes into view. I send my new "friend" I meet in the tunnel, the zombie, to go and check it out. Everywhere, mutilated, wretched, bodies. Are they still sleeping? I wish we could figure this out. While I ponder this quandary, Mortis, my trusting companion, spots the city guard surrounding the area. Without a moments thought I inform the party and we make our way inside the barracks to face the dangers inside. As long as we stick together, we should be fine, right? 

improv: ecl 3 fighter exo(archer)

we made it out of the tunnel only to find the barracks void of life
i see no faces i know thankfully. we ventured inside only to find unlife throughout. sadly the only sign of life if firing upon us. all will die if they come between me and my family... they all will

The Walking Damned: ECL 4 Murag wild half-ogre water orc barbarian 1 werebear 2: Entry 1

(this is posted by Brian Jr)

One day he woke up to find that the guard had not waken him for work. So he ran out side and changed form into a bear. When he got outside of his cage he saw that the guard was staring at him with half an arm dripping with blood, and there was a big chunk of flesh missing from his jaw. The zoo guard just stood there staring. Then Murag changed into humanoid form and started to ask if he was okay. Then the guard ran toward Murag. So, Murag turned and ran back inside and shut the door, and grabbed his gear. He looked out the bars and saw tons of these walking dead people in the zoo, in his exhibit. Then he saw that none of the animals were in their cages but they were out in the walk way where all the walking dead people were. Then he saw that some of the walking dead people were eating one of the elephants. Murag said to himself "Why are they eating elephants? I think if I go up to the church there might be some priests up there and maybe they can explain something." So about two hours later he got to the church. He tried to go inside but the door was chained and there was tons of dead people inside. So he went to a bare spot in the forest to camp for the night. Then he went back to the church the next day and was eating some grapes off a grape vine, then he tried to tear through them to get to the water down the well. Then someone came up and was trying to talk to Murag. He thought that it was entertaining that a guy was trying to talk to him so he stayed; but then some guys in armor ran up to him. Thinking they meant to attack, a fight broke out. After fighting the people for a little bit, one of them threw a net on me and finally I got out of the net and ran away back to my camp to grab my armor in case than chased after me.

The Walking Damned: ECL 4 Murag wild half-ogre water orc barbarian 1 werebear 2: Bio

(The following is posted by Brian Jr)

Murag's mother is a ogre werebear, and his father is a wild water orc werebear. His parents raised him until he was 18. He worked at the zoo as exhibit number 256; this number was written on a blue tag on his ear. He worked there for five years, pretending to be a bear.

Walking Damned ECL 4, Kona, Shield Elf, Battle Dancer 3/Fighter 1: Entry 8

What the???

You just SHOT at a holy man? 

After you HEARD him destroying the plague monsters of your city?

"COME HERE, PUNK! You and I are gonna TALK!"

The Walking Damned: ECL 4, Zhangri'if Duskwood, Lesser Aasimar, Cleric 2/Sorcerer 2: Entry 6

I do not believe that I am in Aglarond any longer...possibly not even in Faerun, as incredible as that seems.  When I questioned the residents about our proximity to the Yuirwood, it was as if I was speaking draconic to these simple folk.  Blank stares and shrugging shoulders.  If these people have not lost their wits and I am truly not in Aglarond...it must have been my passage through the menhir circles...?  They once held great power as portals for the Star Elves who called the Yuirwood their  home ages ago, but the menhir circles haven't been active for hundreds of years.  What incredible happenstance that one should misfire so early in my first real journey as an disciple of My Lords of the Seldarine.  Or maybe its not a coincidence.   Perhaps it's divine providence.  Corellon Larethian is far wiser than I am.

The tools with which the Seldarine have graced me have been put to good use, again and again.  My skills and abilities have been honed and improved.  I thank the Seldarine for making me useful.  I must redouble my efforts and become a mighty and supple weapon against the evil of this land.  I will.  With my last breath of life I will be the unyielding instrument of My Lords...

back story/response

not bad sounds about typical for the era if this were to happen
meh.  still a good read though

improve:darkshelm ecl 3 archer (fighter exotisist)

i  have not found my family among this group of survivors in this tunnels. i will continue searching soon.

they opened the gates to allow more survivors in.. thisbunch seems to be having a tough time of it.  as we all are. One is familiar to me an or i jailed on charges i care not to remember i hope this does not lead to a problem. the large person they let in I have heard of him before. .he ran past us all into the darkness of the tunnel.. this is not good no one has actually gone down that way we all took the word of a survivor....

Trouble has found us ... the undead spill from the tunnel the few we easily dispatched.
but soon cam a writhing mobile pile of flesh... others who came began to panic......
i have no time for this... when this abominable beast came into range i unleashed my opinions of it in the form of arrows...  the onslaught was gruesome but the caster came in very handy ..... gotta keep my eye on him.. might be useful.. the others stacked debris to slow the beast. as i unleashed death upon them?
re death?  at any matter death once again reclaimed these fallen souls that escaped his grasp once..

we stopped to rest but i need to find my family...and purge my city of this menace..
no cost is to great.

Walking Damned ECL 4, Kona, Shield Elf, Battle Dancer 3/Fighter 1: Entry 7

Burn them.

Kona sat in one of the carts near the far tunnel entrance, holding his elven court blad in front of him. It was heavy as hell and would certainly take both hands to wield, but the balance was perfect. If he kept practicing, he could probably even adapt some of his battle dancer moves to his stances when he used it. This...

This is a warrior's weapon. And he - he was a warrior.

And he would use it.

He furrowed his brow, considering: should he be in armor, too? Like a full warrior?  Nah! Not ... not yet, anyway. The idea of being encased in metal was a little too similar to slave chains in his mind. He was more comfortable being able to move and dodge as needed.

A groan distracted him and he turned to see  the rest of his party as they paused to collect their wits after the last battle. Another one of those hordes of zombies that moved and writhed as one beast. (like anything could be creepier than dead creatures walking around - but somehow, many dead things oozing and surging and figting as one  - yeah, that was much creepier). Kona had shouted repeatedly: Burn them! No one disputed how effective it would be. But no one else wanted the smoke it would make to alert the army just outside the makeshift barricade.

Now however, Kona was thinking something else. He looked at the holy man - the most vocal critic of the "fire" plan. He was nursing a savagely sliced up leg: sliced by a giant gleaming snapping trap set by somebody outside. A trap set for the living. A trap set against survivors of this plague, not the infected. What kind of town would try to kill its own people? kill its own survivors? What do you do against minds so fever sick they fight against the very ones they should be trying to protect?

Kona's lip curled into a snarl and he hefted the sword once more.

You burn them.

You burn it all.

Dead Weight Comment

I don't know about this "insight" into the events of the warden's life.  It seems pretty typical in the writing process of this type of story.  Like an attempt to humanize what the viewer would otherwise deem monstrous.  I don't blame the writer (in this case Brian), chances are I would have done the exact same thing in their shoes.  It is difficult to put your work out there and hope people understand it.  However, I rather enjoyed the feeling my character had of complete lack of understanding of the motivation of the authorities.  The utter chaos and need to react to every situation with instinct rather than well thought out philosophy of nature really put me in the moment for this campaign.  I won't let this insight change anything for my character.  But I want Brian to know that I appreciate everything he has done so far for this campaign and keep the good stories going.

The Walking Dammed: Dead Weight (Comment)

Brian, very nice intro into a behind the scenes look into the mind set of Warden Joren, and  the city guards in general. That little sliver I believe, shows us how unprepared the city was to handle such an outbreak. Everyone just going about their day like every other day. It will be interesting to see if the Warden can get his team focused and get a grip on the situation or if the city my be lost forever. I also would love to know if the Warden personally believes that the only way to save the city is to kill everyone, I mean does he have any family living in the city? Could he be conflicted with the orders that he was given to follow? I can't wait to find out.