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Mitch

winslow

fighter

chaotic

-7/8

literate

-1

4098

804

Leather armour

Shield

Sword d8

Spear 1d6

Rations 5

Iron spikes (10)

Hammer

Sling

Torches (5)

Rope x2

Crowbar

Caltrops (12)

Shortbow d6

Arrows (18)

Grapple hook

Rations (iron, 7 days)

+1 magic sword with fish pommel +1 dex when wielded. 1d6+2

65gp

List here…

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Winslow’s Diary

I found a party of adventurers to help me assault the old keep south of Kestizar, the one that haunts my dreams every night. My new friends seem well equipped, they have a VVagon and lots of gear. I even spied a few sacks of gold.

We travelled from Antil to the dreaded place where my brothers were butchered. I was nervous. We slowly approached the two towers with plans of jamming the tower doors and forming a beachhead in the central gate area. This failed miserably when a large armoured party member named Taz launched himself forward, and seemingly out of nowhere bashed down the eastern tower’s door. I slinked back to where our thief and entourage of elves played sentry, saving myself for another opportunity for vengeance.

What happened next was a flurry of arrows and stones. These hairy creatures assaulted the tower and trapped Taz inside. Brave Rux and brother Kallahan began to pepper them from the rear with burning oil. The battle was swift and we bested the hairy foes, but alas we lost a few good men. Collateral damage for what I need.

My revenge on the dire creatures of the tower may have to wait, as we retreated we saw dozens of humanoid beasts pour out of the dreaded citadel in search of us. I shall have vengeance, in this life or the next.

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Winslow’s Diary: Two

We made a deal with a royal type, he said he was visiting a demonic tower, that something inside would make him a king. As long as he’s paying with gold, I don’t mind if he wants to be made into a Queen.

We trek across the jungles East of Antil, wretched place.

I forgot that animals have a fear of me, and I tried to buy a horse in town, this almost blew my cover when the creatures baulked and all but fled from the stables. I ended up walking beside our retinue for the journey.

After two days we found the tower. A shimmering spindle of non euclidean geometry. It was a marvel to behold, yet it’s strange quintessence reminded me of my brush with death only four weeks ago. Our job was to distract the towers sentinel whilst Ser Fondleroy made his way inside. This we did with great relish, the towers guardian was a monolith that drank light, it appeared as a void on tall spindly legs. We could not hurt it, despite the many arrows of our thief, Rad, which all found purchase. Then my new friend Deter made the poor decision to follow the knight into the tower and was almost consumed by the doors that recoiled and transformed at his touch, they became like undulating tentacles and tried to consume him.

I saved poor Deter, pulled him from the mouth but with great injury. The sentinel however transformed and rushed at me whilst I carried him away. I almost lost control of the beast within as I looked into its inky blackness, I felt myself almost transform. Once I made it to safety the knight’s squires were squabbling over his mount, so we took care of them.

I had miscounted the days. The full moon was soon revealed in all her dreaded waxing, that globe of utter terror. I felt the change come over me, but managed to rush into the bush before my friends saw me. My beast side scared away the horses. All I remember of the night was a carnal hunt, the coppery blood of my quarry; the fur between my teeth tells me it was probably some sort of weasel.

We have made it back to Antil, Sir Fondleroy never made it out of the tower. I worry that my party no longer see me in the same way. Tonight I must make way to the sewers, to hide my wretched curse.

I have put poor Deter into the hands of some clerics to nurse him, I don’t trust a wounded man around me at the moment. I hate to admit it, but the smell of his wounds calls to something inside of me. A hunger.

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Winslow’s Diary: Three

We’ve all been talking about what to do next, to be truthful I know that we need power if I am to get my revenge. That means the backing of the city state, men of arms, and the means to besiege the dogs in at the evil keep. Naturally that means we are setting up a mercenary company. We settled on the name The Hydra Company (hail hydra) as one of the earlier exploits of my comrades was the slaying of such a beast (whether that’s true or not matters not.)

Kallahan and I dug up the necessaries about setting up a company. We needed a HQ, so I gathered my comrades and we sallied down to the port where a dilapidated, and supposedly haunted, warehouse was up for auction. Shit baby … one thousand two hundred gold pieces aint shit to the Hydra Company (hail hydra.) out from our deep pockets the coin spilled and with a lick of ink we had ourselves the deed. We registered the company and went off to explore our new abode.

Bit of a dump, to say the least. When we went in and walked in on some sort of hazing ceremony, fifteen guys laying into a man hanging by his feet. I fancied saying “Theres a sign outside that says Lew’s Place - I’m Lew - who the fuck are you?” Alas, our dopey friend Dingbatt Barrett walked up to them and joined in the hazing, splitting the hanging man’s skull in twane. The narcoleptic elf kicked the door in and did what he does best - sleep. There was a bit of confusion from these nasty men, but we talked them down and they left. We hastily got rid of the body, a few chops here, a few seagulls there, the tide will do the rest. Nice.

Having a little look around we found a group of lepers in the basement. Poor wretches. Turns out they have been kicked out of the sewers by a monster. We agreed to help kill the beast so they could get their decomposing, freeloading, squatter asses out of our place. Also, these guys would be handy to know for when the moon is full, I hope to hide out down in the sewers when ol’ furry comes out.

The surprises didn’t end there - no no - you don’t get a warehouse for a thousand gold without a few pertinent problems; fight clubs, leper colonies, oh, and a ghost in the attic. A sweet little old lady ghost named Beryl or something. She was pretty adamant we not touch her coffin, so I laid some flowers thereon and made her my new spectral granny. I promised to take her body home to Tarantis for a good burial. Hopefully we can make use of her and get her to knit some sweaters or something.

The guys found a key in a fireplace, good spot of luck as there is a vault here filled with fine art. I’m talking statues, fountains and plenty of paintings. God damn boi, who’s house? Striking it lucky again lad.

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Winslow’s Diary: Four

We have been focussing on doing up our new digs, a lick of paint here, a scrub there. Nice and shiny and new. We’ve also employed our first soldiers, fourteen wad’s of doe ready to be shaped and baked into rock hard soldiers. We’ll help them form a good crust.

We all thought we’d make good on our promise to the lepers in the basement so with one of them acting as guide we went down into the dank depths to clear out the monster that have been harassing them.

A long journey down a slippery narrow path along the flowing sewer trough. We passed a nest of bats and put out our torches to avoid disturbing them. Finally, after what seemed like hours we came to the place.

Inside a dark side room were reams of webbing across every surface. With a few splashes of oil we burnt it away and readied ourselves. Rad was about to throw another volley of oil when the gangly giant spider rushed at us with its mandibles clacking and foaming.

I raised my shield to defend rad and took the hits of the creature directly, every strike forced me to slide back but I managed to defend the party as they peppered it with arrows and thrown daggers. The creature was sundered and blood pooled onto the floor as I took more and more of its assaults onto my shield. I struck true with my new magic sword and the spider let out a horrific screech. But then, a ripping pain between my shoulders! One of my allies had fired into me! Wounded I fell back with Rads help and Gondelf’s retainers went into the fray. Eventually we sundered the beast.

Before too long another creature came from the depths, a great albino crocodile. Some of us fled whilst Rad and I hid under the silk strewn husks of the spiders victims. The croc ate our poor torch bearer.

We eventually reconvened and made way back to our basement secret entrance. The sewers are dark but full of treasure. Amongst the husks of the spiders victims we found much loot.

Let us go downwards again me laddies and skin us a croc!