Campaign of the Month: March 2009

Denizens of the Nentir Vale

A Warning Letter

It has been close to a year since the Beholder was slain. Much has happened in that time. Giants have been slain and suppressed, the town has been rebuilt and more traders and merchants are arriving every day, and the Nentir Vale seems to be at peace, but fate has not yet finished with the heroes. A letter arrives, from an old acquaintance, Valthrun. The letter reads:

“Friends, I beg for your assistance in these dark times. My order, one that Tira already knows of, has fallen. I am the last living member of The Order of The Arcane. One of our best students, Illidan Stormrage has been corrupted, by what I do not know. He has destroyed our temple, taken our darkest secrets, and is now raising an army. Please help me, I cannot defeat him. I will be in Winterhaven”
-Valthrun, Master of Magic

Not a day later a second message arrives, although this one is not in the form of a letter, it takes shape in a Kobold messenger from the Kengi. This Kobold rushes to find Felsmon, and when he does, says in quick breaths, “My lord, Giants, many Giants. Your father needs you. Bring your companions. Kendistar mustn’t fall. Fire, more fire, and a rift in the sky. The Firelord has returned.”

Heroes, you must choose a path.


The half-elven cleric is greatly troubled by the news of the Kobold, adding to his distress as the companions arranged to depart for Winterhaven.

Turning to his comrades, Z’alden says, “my friends, you know my love of the Kengi and all that we owe our friend Felsmon. Having seen the power of the Firelord, it is my hope that the Kengi can take care of him themselves. I believe that the need of Valthrun is greater here. Felsmon, though I am saddened to suggest it, perhaps you should return to your people, for your might alone added to theirs may be all that the Kengi need to prevail.”

“By the Dragon, I believe that our task should be to give hope to one who has none, the old Valthrun. What say you?”

A Warning Letter

“Alas!” cries Rift. “Here we have been sitting idle, rebuilding village taverns and drinking Nentir ’98, while evil has been growing in the world.”

“And now, we have a dilemma. Poor Valthrun. I did not really know him, but to hear your tales, he sounds like a good friend and mentor.”

“But, Felsmon is our friend. I assume that he will want to go help his kinsmen, and we should support him.”

“Do you think we can send Valthrun a letter, and tell him that we have urgent business to attend to, but we will come as soon as we are able?”

A Warning Letter

“Rift, with the level of need unknown, your wisdom is great. The Firelord and his minions haunted my dreams for what seemed like an age. Mayhap it was my own fears speaking. Our loyalty must be the deciding factor here. With Felsmon we should go. Are we agreed?”

Z’alden looks around the table and realizes that the dwarf is missing.
The cleric shakes Barrick awake off the floor. “To Kendistar and glory?”

A Warning Letter

Erik strokes his beard, looks at Rift and nods in agreement. Speaking from a calm place, Erik explains, “I have basked in the safe glow of our castle, feasted upon Stewart’s cooking and delighted in, well, my companionship. I have run through the hills and have felt the caress of leaves and all things growing. I have sat with gentle ripples and listened to the roar of rivers. I have meditated on mountain tops before a rising sun and after a setting sun. I have sought and yet still seek. Aye, all this contemplation has been but empty food for life. We are not what we think but rather what we do.”

“Rift, it is indeed time for action.”, continues Erik. “Kengistan is but a long day close. Winterhaven is more than two and hence two or three more back to Kengistan. The return of the Firelord would appear require the most urgent action, a simple choice, yet I cannot ignore this feeling that his return and Valthrun’s need are not separate. I trust that Felsmon and his Kengi brothers can hold the Firelord without us, for we are only five more. Should my inner voice be right, that Illidan Stormrage is somehow in league with the giants, then our action to aid Valthrun be worth many an action taken directly at the giants. I counsel we set course for Winterhaven.”

“Rift and Tira,” inquires Erik, “have you anything that can aid us to slip into Winterhaven without too much ado?”

A Warning Letter

Tira shakes her head, as if clearing a fog. She has no idea how she could have been forced to stay somewhere for a year without wandering off in search of another adventure, she must have been under a spell of some sort.

Hearing Valthrun’s name brings back memories. She also votes to head toward Winterhaven, even if it means temporarily splitting from her Dragonborn friend.

“If Valthrun is still living in Winterhaven, and is able to get an uncoded message out, then things cannot be that bad there yet. I am not sure we need to sneak in to town, so much as just arrive without fanfare or announcing our return.”

A Warning Letter

The cleric’s brow knits as though thinking is difficult. “Rift, our friends have given good counsel. Let us give Felsmon the choicest items from our stash of potions we have been making over the past year, and pack for Winterhaven.”

A Warning Letter

Felsmon leans forward in his chair and speaks, “My friends, I would counsel you to help he who cannot help himself, my clan will be able to hold off this threat. Although, your help would appreciated if you choose to fight the Firelord and his minions.” Leaning back in his chair again, Felsmon seems to be willing to take either choice in stride.

A Warning Letter

Z’alden looks at his Paladin friend, “Felsmon, we will be sore to be parted from you. Know that we will be at your side and those of your countrymen as soon as the Winterhaven problems are laid to rest.”

“My friends, are we agreed? A return to Winterhaven?”

A Warning Letter
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