Welcome to The Chosen's journals. Each character is invited to keep a journal and write down the thoughts of their characters as they wander through Nyternia. In addition, the DM has a journal which highlights each session. The players are:

Blink - monk Errol - bard
Kestrel - fighter Malif - wizard
Vaugner - rogue Vernon - cleric/sorcerer

Choose a journal:   Select a session:

Blink's Journal, session #51
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After dusk, the dragons came to attack us, and we get the "little" one, as planned. We acquit ourselves fairly well (I give it some healthy kicks in the ass!), and it decides to fly away before it dies. Unfortunately, it decides to grab Vaugner on the way out (it turns out invisibility doesn't protect against everything, and thieves make tasty dragon appetizers). Vernon, ever more valiant than wise, dimension-doors himself onto the dragon's back, so we were about to lose two party members. I put a parting arrow (having borrowed Malif's bow, not my favored weapon but quite effective) into the dragon, and Malif kills it with his usual "insignificant" magic missile. Whee!

Unfortunately, we learn that the other dragon has carried away Emtil, our expedition's leader (not to mention his sword, in which we have a certain interest). We decide to march on the dragon's lair. Much uncertainty ensues over whether we should rest first and recover our spells. Kestrel appoints himself leader (mild repressed giggling from our group) of the whole shebang, flips a coin (well, that's how _I_ think he made the decision) and we rest first.

We approached the lair and promptly fell into a big honking pit. Turns out the thieves leading the way, who were supposed to detect for traps, kind of forgot to do so (taking lessons in thievish uselessness from Vaugner, no doubt). Kestrel takes a poisoned spike in the ass (it's tough being the boss), but he recovers and we move on. We go into the big entrance to the lair (the only one we've been able to find, though we're sure there are others) and find nothing but traps that try to lightning bolt us (Vaugner and I try to demonstrate the proper dodging techniques, but most of the party seems to lack the dodging gene). A big nothing here.

I suggest that we send the ranger (from the main party) out with a fly spell, to see if he can find another entrance. Somehow, I get persuaded to go out instead (grump!), and promptly get set on by a group of harpies who slit my throat.

End of the dream...