Adventure: The Forgotten Forge
Sessions: 2006-10-08, 2006-10-20
Player: Daniel Thai
PC: Tuiluilan
Status: Fighter 1

Dear Father,

When you told me to go find my way in the world, I doubt that you thought it would end up like this. I’m sorry that I don’t have a blacksmithy of my own, and that I’m not even working at another one, but distractions seem to come up. And if I’m perfectly honest with you, I find them rather enjoyable. I suppose I should mention what I’m talking about.

I said in my last letter that I’ve been taking up whatever odd jobs I could find. Well, believe it or not, some (if not the most reputable) work that I got came through a tavern. Maybe one day they’ll hire me as a bouncer, I don’t know. But anyway, would you believe that someone ran in yelling that there was a body in the road. Now, I know you’ve never been to Sharn before, but this was in a rather reputable part of town—so much so that I couldn’t even carry my double sword (I know, I know). Anyway, it was on a bridge, and the guy was an older gentleman, clearly dead. I know it was a wound from a bladed weapon, but more than that, I couldn’t tell. Before I know what was really happening, this warforged stepped out from one side of a bridge, and stabbed me. Now, I only had a dagger, which is why I say that no place in Sharn should be too uppity for me to carry a quarterblade. Anyway, this raptoran, Mike, who has some sort of strange name in his native tongue, grappled with him, really taking care of him. I should mention that a raptoran is a tall bird-creature that generally acts strangely.

He did all the right things, that I really don’t know how to do, but that mom’s been harping on me to do—sit forward on the guy when you sit on his chest, ride him if he tries to buck up, and go for a right arm twist. He’s a very good grappler. Anyway, I was trying to stab him when this strange bird flies out of him. His chest panels opened, or something like that. But that’s only the beginning.

From there, I was contacted by a mysterious hooded figure, and asked to go to the Broken Anvil inn. I know what you’re thinking. Not exactly the place for the son of a blacksmith to be going, especially with a name like that. But it all worked out. We were approached by a strange lady—I think I wrote her name down, but the name eludes me now. Anyway, she offered us 1000 gold pieces, with 100 immediate for expenses, if we would go track down something mentioned in the dead person’s notes, supposedly near a sewer. Now I remember wondering: Why on Eberron would they be using us, a bunch of nobodies who only happened to meet on a street corner? The answer is obvious: Because nobody cares if we die. And that’s what made me slightly suspicious of this whole thing from the start.

So we went. The sewer is a place I would rather not revisit. I was considering using parchment as a face mask to keep out the smell, but decided against it. Anyway, we got into a fight with this heavy metal guy—another warforged, who decided he wanted to kill us. Two more strange sewage covered things joined the fight. I managed to dispatch the warforged and one of the shifters, but the others took down the last guy. So we went on, and encountered a swarm of beetles.

Hundreds of them, drawn to our movement, I guess. Beetles are nasty, and it takes fire to beat them. Unfortunately, I did not have a torch. There was this guy—or I should say, halfling, who (the dirty scoundrel), stole a torch that would be necessary to fight this rat swarm, and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. Fortunately, someone got it back and handed it to me, and I started hacking. As strange as this may sound… I was actually invigorated by that fight, although I noticed the strange bird person felt very sick to his stomach—or stomachs, I never bothered to ask about that.

Anyway, I tried setting fire to my bedroll to squash them with a blanket of flame, (quite literally), but that didn’t work as well as I had thought. Eventually, it seemed like they had had enough. After that, we reached a door and had to fight some strange metallic dog creatures. They didn’t want to fight me, which was fine by me. Eventually, we killed them as well, or at least, the two that hadn’t already been squashed by a piece of the ceiling of that room. Finally, we got the item we came for—some sort of schema. I’m still not sure what that is. But we had one final task before we could return it to the lady. It was another warforged who, in the name of the Lord of Blades, demanded the return of the item. We were not feeling in good shape from our previous encounters, and ran. Alain had the bright idea of throwing a dagger in place of the schema, which kind of looks like it, and the warforged went after it. We were going to just escape, when we realized—both that a pair of giant rats were going after the warforged, and that Xame (yes, the coward), had become trapped. Despite my dislike of him, I decided that I was going to help save him. After the rats took care of the warforged, we took care of them.

So that was the adventure. When I come home, I’ll tell you of my companions—a strange bird fellow named Mike, a shifty and craven halfling named Xame, a distant elf named Antinua, and a fellow fighter named Alain. By the way: Alain strikes me (no, he’s never struck me, at least not yet) as a really nice guy—and his flail (ball and chain) comes in real handy at times.

So much for that these adventures. Anyway, I’d like to purchase a double sword when I arrive, and I’m coming soon—and I’m willing to pay extra for your very finest work.

Your Loyal Son,


Player’s Notes

Tui is highly connected with family, and I like what Rachel did with writing home that way, so it’s a logical choice to do stories this way.

Adventure: The Forgotten Forge
Session: 2006-10-08, 2006-10-20
Player: Rachel Reddick
PC: Antinua
Status: Wizard 1

Dear Kanathas:

I have been staying in Sharn, as you suggested. My first impression has been a rather unpleasant one. I will admit that the towers are every bit as impressive as I anticipated, but I have not yet had much opportunity to explore the academic resources here, as a result of recent events. I will explain, though it will not be brief.

I was in a small shop, picking up a few necessary items, when I heard something of a noise outside. I quickly finished my purchase and departed, curious but expecting nothing good from such a crowd. I stayed somewhat behind as the group approached a bridge. Most of the crowd dispersed, leaving myself, a rather suspect halfling standing just behind me, and two warrior-type humans, and a person I would later learn was a monk and a raptoran, which are apparently tall and have a pair of large birdlike wings extending from the upper back. I must remember to ask him about his origins.

In any event, there was most definitely a body on the bridge. From what I could tell, this was a male human, and not young. He had clearly died by violence — by stabbing, I would later learn. I stayed back, as did the halfling, while the other three approached. As they did, a warforged leapt from beneath the bridge and approached the remains. He then demanded that the body be returned to him. One of the two fighters, clearly a local, indicated that the Watch should deal with this matter. The warforged disagreed rather violently.

I thought that the warforged might be convinced by the arrival of the Watch. I altered my appearance accordingly. The halfling appeared rather startled at this. Unfortunately, the warforged only laughed when I told him to stop. Thus, while those skilled in combat dealt with the matter according to their training, I sought out the genuine Watch.

When I returned with three members of the Watch, the winged monk had the warforged well under control. The Watch asked all involved parties to disarm; the Brelish fighter then explained the situation. They removed the warforged and dealt with the remains.

The four of us left the area together, except for the halfling, since he had already left. I received the impression that the Brelish fellow did not particularly like him, which matched my first impression as well. The rest of us introduced ourselves. The Brelish fellow was Alain; the other fighter, Tui; the winged monk stated that his name was lengthy, and that he was generally called Mike. Tui seemed to be the excitable type. He seemed very tense throughout the conversation; there was a bit of a disagreement, and he left rather abruptly.

At some point, Alain mentioned to me that it is a crime to impersonate a member of the Watch. I will bear this in mind should it ever become necessary. Hopefully not; disobeying laws, even for a good purpose, tends to be troublesome.

As Alain, Mike and I departed, a man obscuring his identity with a cloak confronted us. He showed us his House Cannith ring, and directed us to meet at the Broken Anvil tavern in the morning, if we wished to learn more about this matter. Although I cannot speak for the motives of the others, I was quite curious as to this sequence of events.

It appears that Tui and Xame (as the halfling later introduced himself) had received a similar message, since they were also at the Broken Anvil. I seem to recall that Xame was eating rat stew. I do not understand how he can consume vermin, no matter how well prepared it may be.

There, we met Lady Elaydren of House Cannith. She presented a journal that had been found by the murdered man, a scholar. He had apparently found the location of one of House Cannith’s old forges. There, a schema could be found. This schema was part of a creation pattern. She refused to give further details, but suggested that we might go to the location indicated by the journal, and that we would be paid for our efforts. As this seemed a worthwhile endeavor, I agreed. I also noted that Xame attempted to obtain a higher payment, although Elaydren turned him down.

She gave us the journal, and we departed immediately. As we moved down through the many levels of Sharn, I rapidly decided that the upper levels were better. We passed by a somewhat rag-tag group of people; one of them attempted to sell a few items to us. He was quite persistent. We chose to pass by; however, one of them continued to watch us. I found this somewhat disturbing.

The downward progression became even less pleasant as we neared our destination. We were passing single file through a narrow tunnel, approaching a sewer. Mike was the only person behind me, but I noticed something in the corner of the tunnel. By this time, I was somewhat uncomfortable with the situation, and let fly a magic missile. This individual turned out to be another warforged, who demanded that we give up our search for the schema. Short work was made of both him and two shifters who attempted to catch us off guard, who approached from downstream or, more accurately, downsewer. Xame attempted to heal one of them, which surprised me. From what I had seen, I did not expect this from him. He did not succeed, which did not.

By this time, we were all coated in the contents of the sewer. This was quite possibly the most disgusting experience I have ever had, although I suspect it was worst for Mike, on account of his feathers.

We found the entrance that Elaydren described. However, it was firmly closed. Xame and I both attempted to open it. We were rewarded with acid. This was worse than the acid I last spilled while working with Uthen’s experiments. It turned out that all that was necessary to open the door was to wave the journal at it. Quite frustrating.

We eventually reached a large, dark, open chamber. Mike heard something odd, and, as we entered, we were approached by an apparently poorly-fed swarm of beetles. I made a note to myself to study some spells that will target more than an individual creature. As it was, I had no means to assist in defending the others. Tui attempted to light his bedroll on fire, and use that against them. I believe this would have been effective, had he not missed. Contrarily, Xame had a torch, which was quite effective against them—once Alain got it from him, that is. Xame appears to dislike combat. He called out at one point; something strange about “an advance” on his powers. I am curious as to what he meant; I did not catch all that he said, due to echoes and the sound of combat. Of course, I dislike it myself; however, I will still aid my allies if I have the means.

The swarm had bitten Mike rather badly, and so we retreated to a smaller enclosure at the far end of the large chamber. It seemed relatively peaceful, and Xame found a fountain whose water had restorative properties. I wonder what building had once stood there. In any event, we chose to rest. I replenished my store of spells that morning—or what I assumed to be morning. Nothing of note occurred during the night.

At this time, we approached another building, to the south of where we had rested. It was a taller building, made with adamantine doors. Mike, Tui and Alain climbed to the top, and found that there was a convenient hole in the roof. Xame and I deferred entering until they opened the doors from within. Alain twisted his ankle in the fall from the roof; otherwise, the main trouble encountered was a matching pair of doglike constructs. They were somewhat troublesome, but destroyed nonetheless.

From each of the destroyed constructs’ foreheads, as well as from another than had been crushed when the ceiling collapsed, were distinctly shaped rods. When inserted into the forge on the wall opposite the door, they opened a secret chamber, which included some money, a few potions, various martial items and the schema we had been sent to retrieve.

Our goal attained, we intended to leave forthwith… however, it seemed that we had tarried too long. A warning shot was fired at us as we prepared to exit the room. Another warforged demanded that we render unto him what he claimed for the Lord of Blades—specifically, the schema. We were not interested, and so we closed the door. This left us in rather a predicament, until he became impatient and started climbing the building. At this point, we all dashed out through the doors as quickly as we could. We rather lost Xame, however. His shorter strides could not match the rest of us. Naturally, the warforged pursued us; we managed to reach the far end of the main chamber and prepared to defend ourselves as necessary. Although he had not been particularly helpful, we were obligated to at least attempt to wait for Xame.

Alain drew a dagger, yelled, “Ditch the schema!” and headed out. Quite clever. It distracted the warforged long enough for a pair of large armored rats to appear and kill the warforged. They were apparently looking for a meal. Since they found the warforged rather unsatisfactory, they soon turned to a bit of sound in the shadows in hopes of a meat—specifically, Xame. Fortunately, the rats were quickly dealt with, via various weapons and a nicely effective spell of mine.

In any event, we left the sewers without further incident. I have never been more thankful to see the sun. To ensure that we had the correct item, we purchased the pearl necessary for an identify spell. I ascertained that this was the schema, and part of a creation pattern. We gave it to Elaydren, who gave us her payment and her thanks.

There was some disagreement about the distribution of our gains. The others, Alain in particular, were of the opinion that Xame had not earned an equal share. In light of his actions, I agreed, but felt that giving him nothing seemed somewhat extreme. Tui and Mike remedied this situation; Mike was particularly generous.

I maintain reservations about Xame. He persists in claiming to be a simple commoner. I strongly suspect that he has another profession. However, since I have not caught him with his hand in my purse, I will reserve judgement.

I was not interested in the gold, so much as what I might learn through expending it. I also gained a well-crafted rapier from the items we obtained. A pity that I have this, and not Tahlean. He would have found more use for it than me. I have been thinking of him lately; Tui rather reminds me of him. It is something about their rashness, and tendency to turn immediately to their favorite bladed weapons. Both insisted upon elven war cries, though Tui’s are rather poorly pronounced… But I digress.

This experience has been an interesting one. Among other things, I have concluded that I wouldl prefer not to revisit the sewers of Sharn.

Additionally, I continue to have some concern about the purpose of all of this. Although this schema is clearly part of a creation pattern, Elaydren refused to elaborate as to its purpose. I strongly suspect that it is associated with the creation pattern used to create the warforged, particularly considering the interest of the Lord of Blades in this matter.

Furthermore, I must note that, if I am going to continue to use that identifying potion to determine the magical properties of objects, I must consider using an Aundarian wine as the main component. The Brelish vintage I found here left something to be desired.

Do not forget to write back to me, infrequent as these letters may be. I have been most anxious. I wonder what progress you and Uthen have made and, although I know that you will be unlikely to take advice from a younger elf, be careful.

Your sister,


Player’s Notes:

Due to Antinua’s strong ties to family, it only makes sense for her record to be in the form of letters back home. Additionally, she is a somewhat irregular writer. In the middle of an adventure, she may write part of a letter, then put it aside; otherwise, she may simply be too distracted by a most fascinating text on the finer points of spellcasting. In any case, her letters are infrequent (i.e., between sessions) and tend to be long. Which works just fine for me. It also leaves the fun of having people guess what’s in the letters that she’s reading.

Additionally, if you’re wondering about the Tahlean she mentioned… that’s her younger brother. The comparison to Tui was so obvious, and yet so amusing, that I could not resist.

As a further note, the letter is translated from elven for your convenience.

Adventure: The Forgotten Forge
Sessions: 2006-10-08, 2006-10-20
Player: Michael Busch
PC: Mike
Status: Monk 1

It started with me going to a tavern. Don’t laugh. I could hardly find better lodgings in Sharn with the few people I knew here, and if the Watch and the Morgrave staff didn’t now know me, we would have been kicked off the top of this tower long since. Besides, the surface-walkers are often amusing, as I hope you will soon agree.

The place was relatively quiet. Two human males in armor eyed each other from opposite sides of the room and a halfling wandered, fairly obviously looking for someone to rob. Then there was a disruption. Someone had found body in the street. I went with the men in armor, the halfling trailing behind us. An elf joined us from a wizard’s shop next to the tavern. A man lay bleeding on the bridge between the tower and the next over. As we went towards the body, a warforged climbed over the edge of the bridge and started to search the body. I asked what it was doing. Its response was to say ‘Weak Flesh’ and attack one of the men. Apparently, this is a warforged insult. It does not seem very forceful, considering that I grappled the thing and pinned it to the ground, before the other man killed it.

The elf had fetched the Sharn Watch, and they took the warforged and the body and gave us leave to go. The halfling had grabbed a satchel from the body, which the second man (whose name was Alain) persuaded him to give up. The rogue then took off.

Alain carried a dagger and a flail. The first man, somewhat younger, had a strange double sword. He called himself Tuiluilan. I later learned he was from Cyre, the son of a blacksmith. I’m not sure if his parents had named him after our language. If so, their sense of humor is suspect and their ears non-existent. On the other hand, Tui had a habit of muttering in bad Elven, so perhaps it is a family trait. The elf wizard was Antinua. I’m not sure if the meaning of her name is intentional or not.

As we were exchanging introductions, a cloaked human-sized figure, wearing a House Cannith ring, appeared and told us to come to a tavern called the Broken Anvil if we wished to learn the truth about the murder. I confess that I was motivated as much by wanting to know why House Cannith was interested in this matter as much as by the murder.

When we arrived at the Broken Anvil, I can’t say I was suprised to see Xame, halfling ‘commoner’, eating a bowl of rat stew. The representive of House Cannith we met there, a Lady Elaydren, obviously doesn’t like loose ends. She told us that the dead man had been asked to find a schema in the depths of Sharn, illustrating this with a notebook that had been in the satchel. So we went into the sewers.

I do not recommend the sewers. The Cogs may be on the list of tourists attractions, but the sewers are tight warrens of ruin and waste. We were found by a warforged at an intersection. He dodged well, but fortunately Antinua’s magic works quickly. Eventually, we made our way to a relatively open space, whereupon I was set upon by a swarm of beetles. You know how some unintelligent birds like to sit in ant hills? I think I now understand why they haven’t built civilization: they are masochists. Xame also showed his remarkable courage by promptly running away, although he was kind enough to leave torches behind.

We found our target: an abandoned forge where the schema was supposed to be stored. I climbed in, followed by Alain and Tui. Neither knew how to fall. Then we were set upon by two metal guard dogs. If you want, I can tell you something of the internal construction of metallic constructs. We got the doors open and found the schema, as well as various other things that Xame liked drooling over. Then a third warforged showed up and started shooting. These warforged aren’t very smart: we closed the doors, he climbed, we opened the doors and ran. Then Alain threw his dagger into the shadows. The warforged thought it was the schema, and disturbed two very ugly rats, who proceeded to devore him while we got into the tunnel leading out. Then we had to go back and save Xame from the rats. Do not make a wizard mad. If she starts glowing, you may only have a few seconds before you are struck by bolts of fire and melted.

Elaydren gave us some payment for the schema, although Tui had insisted on making a careful sketch of the thing. He tended to go through a lot of parchment. The others were inclined to give Xame very little for the schema. The halfling objected, consistent with his character. I finally gave him something, just to stop the argument.

I at least found this entire series of events very amusing. So I made an agreement with Antinua, Alain, and Tui that we would work together if Elaydren ever needed our assistance again.

Player’s Notes:

When Dave said he expected us to be fighting rats in the first adventure, I was hoping he would be wrong. On the other hand, a dire rat is a rather ugly beast at 1st level.

Adventure: The Forgotten Forge
Session: 2006-10-08
Player: Dave Zhang
PC: Xame
Status: Rogue 1

Was at the tavern looking for quarries when some disturbance arose: some guy was killed by a warforged. Most patrons went to take a glance, and I followed, hoping to make a profit off it one way or another. I first tried to liberate some wealth off an elf in wizard’s robes (Antinua), hoping her attention was distracted by the grisly scene, but alas, was noticed.

Around this time, a warforged climbed out from beneath the Sharn bridge to grab the dead one’s satchel, and a couple burly-looking fellows (Alain and Tuiuilan) and a bird-like freak (Mike) began to fight it. Heck, if all those people are fighting over the satchel, there must be something in there worth money! I snuck up and tried to palm it and nonchalantly leave, but one of the combatants managed to notice me despite the fight. I had to relinquish the bag and made a poor excuse off “investigating.” Left in a hurry before the town watch decided to show up.

Later, some guy from House Cannith found me and told me to show up at the Broken Anvil tavern for some employment opportunities. Said I’d consider it, and then tried to tail the guy. Thought I was being pretty quiet, but he noticed me anyway. Decided I probably shouldn’t mess with him. Wonder why he needed to employ me if he was so good at what we do already?

Turns out the contact, a human woman named Elaydren, offered employment to more than just myself. Both muscle-heads from before, bird-freak, and the elf I tried to lift also showed up. Apparently we’re to retrieve some adamantine toy that’s part of the Creation pattern. The front was 100, and the reward would be another 1000. I tried to bargain for more, but the muscleheads didn’t know to shut up and let the master work, so we walked out with only the 100.

Ventured to the underbelly of Sharn, with me considerably less than ecstatic: I’d prefer to work with people who didn’t already have suspicions about me (or at least have very short memory spans). Unfortunately, both the elf woman and the flail-wielding man seemed to remember our previous encounter.

First signs of trouble arose with a warforged ambush. Fortunately, I wasn’t the target. The rest of the party dispatched the clumsy tinker-toy easily as I tried to appear less of a target (I’m pretty good at that). The swarm of bugs that attacked afterwards was much more of a problem. Bug-bites and getting hurt really aren’t my realm of expertise, so I was going just get the hell away from the swarm, but the rest of them decided to be valiant *cough* stupid *cough* and take it on. Afterwards, they even had to gall to call me a coward, completely forgetting that it was my torch that they used to destroy the stupid thing.

I found the schema in the forgotten forge a little later without much trouble (along with an assortment of other treasure), but then another warforged showed up to try to claim it for the Lord of Blades. As everyone was still quite hurt from unnecessarily battling the bugs, they decided to bolt with the Schema. Of course, poor old me, with my short legs and still having not yet turned 18, couldn’t keep pace with them, and decided it was safer sticking to the shadows and leaving later.

Apparently we weren’t alone down in the Forgotten Forge with the warforged. A couple metal-plated rat-freaks were also there. After a few moments, I glanced out from the shadows and saw the rodents had put the warforged to rest. Unfortunately, doing so, I stumbled over a rock, and drew the rats’ attention. As I was frantically trying to change my position in the shadows at top speed while remaining stealthy, my erstwhile companions decided to shoot the threats. I’d be indebted to them if I didn’t think the muscleheads weren’t just murderous and testosterone-driven.

After we re-surfaced in the upper layers of Sharn and claimed our 1000 gp from Elaydran, the bloody bastards declared that I shouldn’t have a full share of the treasure! I pointed out to them reasonably that I found most of the treasure, and that the torches they used to defeat the bug swarm were mine. The musclehead with the outlandish double-sword tried to offer me a mere 39 gp for my toubles! I decided a more direct approach was needed, and told them bluntly that we could part on good terms, or bad terms. At this point, the bird-man offered me another 300 gp. I figured a 1/5 share of the total treasure was probably 400 gp or so, but decided not to push my luck.

You just have to accept that some days you’re the pigeon, and other days you’re the statue.

Player’s Notes

As expected, lack of offensive capabilities plus the CN alignment is causing substantial party tension. In fact, Xame was working separately in the next adventure.