Part I

[Krathognis]

The thunder seems to last for hours as it reverberates among the icy peaks of the Il'draeshad Mountains.  A smokey blackness drifts over the knife-like eddifaces and slithers, seeps, drips into the valley... blocking all but the faintest glimmers of sunlight.  Winds whip and churn the waters of the Felnath into a frenzied torrent only to sweep further south and assault Castle Valenshire.  A figure stands defiantly atop the Gods-bane tower, his many eyed robe stilled easily by his magical will.  He watches with half-crazed eyes As the blackness sweeps forward to engulf his lands. He whispers into the wind.

And so it begins...
* * *

[Krathognis]

The morning dawns bright save for the deep black blight in the north east.  The obsidian clouds that seemed to ooze into the blue sky nearly a week before, strangely enough, hadn't moved or dissipated since.  nothing in either of your experiences can explain this.  so, you turn to the only place you can in the wilderness that you call home; the local goblin tribe.  Normally you would never have dealings with goblinkind, yet this tribe, and their shaman in particular, has proven to be of a different temperament than most of the race.  they have in fact been helpful on numerous occasions.  it is with this in mind that you set out on the 3 day journey to their village.

[Krathognis]

Luca: The goblin shaman has taken you under his wing.  you have been brought to his hovel, clothed, fed, and he has spent the last few weeks teaching you common and the basics of their language.  you have begun to pickup bits a pieces of the techniques which, though you have been taught to disbelieve such things, you can only classify as 'magic'. 

The night before you woke to the shaman tossing violently in his sleep, mumbling and ranting about god knows what.  he has been somewhat reserved throughout the morning and you can feel that there is something that weighs heavily on his mind.

Speaks:  ever since the ugly human got his man-juices all over the shrine things have been somewhat ... annoying.  firstly the shaman seems to have taken a liking to the pinkie, and has even taken him into his own home.  secondly, it seems that the thing has started to speak the human language, and what's worse, goblin!  and now! now he's playing at shaman magic when he thinks no one's looking!   Worst of all!... you're being ignored.  well... you're always ignored, but you can normally make it uncomfortably difficult on the others.  Since pinkie's shown up you can't even get anyone to look in your direction, not matter how loud or offensive you are... something must be done... oh yes... something MUST be done...

[Krathognis]

things are tough for a budding warlock, so you've decided to do what any self respecting magic user on the outs with society would do... go to Valenshire! I mean, seriously, the place is run by a half-mad supermage who's got a half-dragon half-dwarf apprentice! or so it's said.  sounds like just the place for you. just one small problem... you wake up to make your final day's ride to the small shire to find that it has been surrounded by a dense black haze.  you ride toward the haze, but come upon an impenetrable wall of what seems to be clouds.  no matter how far you ride along the border you can find no way through.  so you return to the inn to drown your worries and wait out the clouds...

[Thredok]

The Gnome glances around the common room of the inn as he enters. Moving to a table in the back he orders a drink from a passing barmaid, and sits facing the door.

[Krathognis]

the common room is no different from the other common rooms you have visited in the last few months; populated by road weary travelers and local regulars relaxing after a day in the fields. your drink arrives promptly; a sweet honey mead that you pay a silver for.  the barmaid brightens for a moment at the sight of the generous tip.  you sit and finish your drink as the house bard takes his place and begins to recite tales of local heroes.

[dooby the pirate]

The morning dawns bright save for the deep black blight in the north east.  The obsidian clouds that seemed to ooze into the blue sky nearly a week before, strangely enough, hadn't moved or dissipated since.  nothing in either of your experiences can explain this.  so, you turn to the only place you can in the wilderness that you call home; the local goblin tribe.  Normally you would never have dealings with goblinkind, yet this tribe, and their shaman in particular, has proven to be of a different temperament than most of the race.  they have in fact been helpful on numerous occasions.  it is with this in mind that you set out on the 3 day journey to their village.

gripthor gets up and puts his gear on and kicks nerthach to get up and says to time to go see the wizard and then laugh in a two tusk voce