Chapter 1 / Episode 3 - Surrender, in the name of the Abbey!!!

Craddock the Mad (Ranger lvl 1)
Crush The Half-Orc1 AC1 HP6
Kure Acolyte (Cleric 1)
Lornan Calihye Level 1 1/2 Elf AC 9
Slash the Bard 1
Ulrag

Fireseek 5, 576 CY

The biting wind carried an edge that cut through even the thickest cloaks as the caravan trudged through the muddy trail. Flanked by dense woods on one side and rolling hills on the other, the lowlands offered a relatively easier passage for the ox-drawn carts, but the oppressive weather made progress slow and morale fragile.

The adventurers moved in tense silence, their eyes scanning the forest's edges for any hint of movement. Craddock the Mad, ever vigilant, rode ahead while the others kept their weapons within easy reach, their recent encounters still fresh in their minds. The rhythmic clatter of wagon wheels and the occasional lowing of oxen were the only sounds to break the uneasy quiet.

As the road narrowed and twisted between the hills, a lone figure emerged from the shadows, blocking their path. His voice rang out over the wind, sharp and commanding:

"Surrender, in the name of the Abbey!"

The man stood tall, clad in dark, tattered garb that bore faint symbols of a wave cresting into a spire—a sigil that sent a chill through Craddock’s spine. Behind him, more figures melted out of the trees, their bows drawn, their faces obscured by the shadows of their hoods.

The adventurers exchanged quick glances. The demand was clear, but surrender was not an option. Slash the Bard took a half step forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade, his voice low but resolute. "We’ll take our chances."

The bandit leader sneered, raising a hand to signal the attack. Chaos erupted as arrows flew and steel clashed. Crush, the half-orc fighter, surged forward with a roar, his axe cleaving through one of the assailants. Craddock loosed arrows from the rear, his shots finding their mark even in the chaos. Kure, the young cleric, stood firm, channeling divine energy to shield his companions and keep them on their feet.

The battle was fierce and short. The bandits, despite their initial advantage, were unprepared for the ferocity of the adventurers' resistance. Realizing they were outmatched, the leader barked an order to retreat, and the remaining bandits vanished into the trees, leaping onto waiting horses and disappearing as swiftly as they had come.

When the dust settled, the grim toll became clear. Three of the ox-cart drivers lay dead, their blood mingling with the muddy road. Among the bandits, two bodies remained—a testament to the group’s resolve. Their attire and symbols confirmed Craddock's suspicions: these men were agents of the Abbey of the Elemental God of Water.

Craddock knelt by the tracks left by the fleeing bandits, his sharp eyes discerning their path despite the softening snow. "Northwest," he muttered, rising and turning to the others. "They’re heading northwest, but they’ll regroup before long."

The caravan pressed onward, heavy with the weight of loss and the growing awareness of the dangers they faced. The name of the Abbey lingered in their minds, a grim reminder of the forces gathering against them.

The path to Hommlet had become a trial of endurance and will, and the adventurers knew that the worst was yet to come.

https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipP2mImLBZoFFlkOVn2H5ll5FUK2_NeU074-O5gic1IAfBdTKytCDIS3RjMVpvvdSA?key=QXRTMlF5c2ZhNW1JNFM5dXVBZG5oclhfWHNkOTBnGoogle

Hommlet Darker Session A - The missing children

Fireseek 1

Black Lung Gordon the Thief 1
The Druid
Vindryl

The Village of Hommlet, typically a peaceful and idyllic hamlet, has been shrouded in an unnerving silence this winter. The usual sounds of laughter and merriment from the locals have given way to hushed whispers and worried expressions. The bitter cold has gripped the land, and the snow-covered streets are all but deserted.

As your group of adventurers seeks refuge from the biting cold inside the cozy common room of the Welcome Wench inn, you overhear a conversation at a nearby table. A group of villagers is discussing the disappearance of several residents, including the village’s elder, Sir Mordrins’ daughter (age 18), Scarlet and Torbins’ Herdboy (age 8). It’s said that they went missing without a trace.

Rumors swirl among the locals, some attributing these disappearances to the harsh winter, while others speak of something more sinister lurking in the nearby moors. An air of fear and uncertainty hangs over the village, and the villagers are too afraid to investigate themselves.

Just as you ponder the situation, an elderly villager named Eadric approaches your table. Wrinkles line his weathered face, and his eyes are filled with concern. In a hushed tone, he confides in your group, explaining that he believes these disappearances are no coincidence. Eadric tells you about ancient legends and forgotten prophecies that suggest a dark force awakens during the harsh winters of certain years.

He believes that the missing villagers may be linked to this ominous force and implores you to investigate their disappearances. Eadric warns that time is running out, and if the legends hold true, the consequences could be dire not only for Hommlet but for the entire region.

The group is in the Inn of the welcome wench and go speak with the village eldar who tells of his daughter picking berries in the swamp, now missing since mid-winters day.

Chapter 1 / Episode 2 - The cold winter night and the arrow...

Cast of Characters
Craddock the Mad (Ranger lvl 1)
Crush The Half-Orc1 AC1 HP6
Lornan Calihye Level 1 1/2 Elf AC 9
Slash the Bard 1

Greyhawk Calendar

Fireseek 4, 576 CY

The forest canopy loomed thick overhead, blanketing the caravan in perpetual twilight. The cold bit deeper as the day wore on, and the path grew rougher and steeper, the wagons jolting and creaking over the uneven terrain. The horses, though hardy, began to labor under the strain, and a tense quiet settled over the group.

Craddock the Mad, ever the vigilant ranger, scouted ahead, his eyes scanning for signs of danger. Slash the Bard rode closer to the wagons, his songs now replaced by uneasy silence. The camaraderie of the caravan had turned to watchful apprehension as the shadows lengthened, and the first flakes of snow began to fall.

As the caravan wound around a bend in the trail, a sharp cry shattered the stillness. Evard, one of the drovers, collapsed to the ground, an arrow protruding from his chest. Chaos erupted as the group rushed to his side. Slash knelt beside the stricken man, who gripped his tunic weakly.

"Sing me a requiem," Evard whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling with pain and the inevitability of death. His eyes closed as the last breath left his body.

Craddock quickly scanned the area for signs of the attackers. The falling snow had already begun to obscure any tracks, and the surrounding woods were eerily silent. No movement, no sound—only the growing realization that they were not alone.

He retrieved the arrow from Evard's chest, turning it over in his hands. The craftsmanship was unmistakable—military grade, precise and deadly.

"This isn't the work of common brigands," Craddock muttered, his voice low but resolute.

The group pressed on for several more miles as the snow intensified, its relentless fall muffling the forest. Finally, they made camp, their breaths visible in the frigid air. The tension was palpable as the adventurers prepared for the night, their weapons close at hand.

During the first watch, a sharp whistle broke the quiet, followed by a pained grunt. Crush, the formidable half-orc fighter, staggered back, clutching his thigh where an arrow jutted from the flesh. Blood stained the snow beneath him as he grimaced in pain.

Lornan Calihye, the half-elven adventurer, leapt onto his horse and rode in a wide circle around the camp, his eyes scanning the darkness for movement. But the attackers seemed to melt into the shadows as if the forest itself was aiding their escape.

Craddock knelt beside the arrow embedded in Crush’s leg, carefully inspecting it. His suspicions were confirmed—it was identical to the one that had killed Evard. Whoever was hunting them was methodical, professional, and relentless.

As the night deepened, the group huddled close, their weapons drawn, their breaths steadying but their hearts heavy. The snowfall lightened, revealing a stark, silent forest that felt more alive than it should.

"They're toying with us," Lornan said grimly, his gaze fixed on the darkness.

Craddock’s voice carried the weight of their realization: "We are being hunted."

The cold, unforgiving night stretched on, and the group prepared themselves for whatever was to come. Their journey to Hommlet had become a deadly game of survival, and the stakes were only growing higher.

Chapter 1 / Episode 1 - Journey to Hommlet Begins....

Introduction to Journey to Hommlet

Cast of Characters
Craddock the Mad (Ranger lvl 1)
Jed Bonebridge (Cavalier)
Kure Acolyte (Cleric 1)
Lornan Calihye Level 1 1/2 Elf AC 9
Slash the Bard1
Crush The Half-Orc1 AC1 HP6

Greyhawk Calendar

Fireseek 1, 576 CY – The Call to Adventure

Beneath a steel-gray sky, the chill of Fireseek settled over the town of Narwell, where six strangers found themselves brought together by fate—or the promise of gold. Brigands had turned the Gnarley Forest into a treacherous expanse, and the merchants of Narwell had hired this band to escort a caravan westward. A modest mission, but for adventurers like Craddock the Mad (a dour ranger), the fiery Jed Bonebridge (cavalier), Kure the Acolyte (cleric of St. Cuthbert), Lornan Calihye (a soft-spoken half-elf), Slash the Bard (a charming troubadour), and Crush the Half-Orc (a hulking fighter with a penchant for action), it was the first step in what none realized would become an epic tale.

Their journey began uneventfully, the caravan rumbling west along the road. Craddock scouted ahead, his sharp eyes scanning the barren landscape for threats. That first night, the eerie sounds of the winter wilderness accompanied their campfire, but nothing disturbed their rest.

---

Fireseek 2, 576 CY – Uneasy Beginnings

The group awoke to a pale dawn, frost clinging to the grass like silver lace. Craddock once again took the lead, his keen instincts leading him to an abandoned campsite. The remnants of a fire pit and a few scattered belongings told a quiet story of travelers passing through, but the ranger’s unease grew.

By late afternoon, they reached the Jewel River and crossed into Redpatch, a quaint village nestled along its banks. The settlement offered little in the way of comfort—no inn or tavern for a warm reprieve—but the fields on the outskirts served as their resting place.

That night, as the stars glimmered faintly through the cold, clear sky, the caravan’s horses grew restless. Craddock paced the perimeter, his hand never far from his weapon. Though the source of their agitation remained unseen, it was a foreboding reminder of the dangers to come.

---

Fireseek 3, 576 CY – Into the Gnarley Forest

The caravan resumed its journey, passing through the sleepy village of Dunmarsh as the edge of the Gnarley Forest loomed ahead. By dusk, they had ventured into its shadowed expanse, where ancient trees stretched skyward, their bare branches intertwining like skeletal hands.

The lead drover, a grizzled man with years of experience on these trails, warned the group of the forest’s dangers. “Every mile counts,” he grunted, spurring them to make camp just within the forest’s edge. As the fire crackled in the growing darkness, the group shared uneasy glances. The Gnarley Forest had a reputation, and none dared to voice the superstitions that lingered in their minds.

---

Fireseek 4, 576 CY – The Ambush

The morning dawned colder than the last, with frost biting at exposed skin as the adventurers prepared to move. Craddock and Slash took the lead, scouting ahead of the caravan. As the group worked to ready the horses, a sound broke the quiet—a bird call. Then another. But something was off. Too precise. Too deliberate.

Craddock froze, his hand tightening on his bow. He and Slash exchanged a glance and sprinted back to the caravan. “Something’s wrong,” Craddock hissed.

The group set a quick ambush, arranging the caravan to appear exposed while taking defensive positions nearby. Minutes stretched into an eternity. The forest stood deathly silent save for the occasional creak of branches swaying in the wind.

Then, from the front of the caravan, a sudden cry pierced the stillness. The lead merchant toppled forward, clutching his chest. Jed, Lornan, and Crush charged toward the sound, weapons at the ready.

The fight had begun.

---

The first steps of the journey to Hommlet were proving to be far from ordinary. The Gnarley Forest had bared its teeth, and the adventurers would soon find themselves tested in ways they could never have imagined.