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Varus Oathblade... or is it? wrote: Hailing from a small village called "Redstone" (named for the "red stones" that are common in a nearby cave), Varus was desperate to get out of the town that held no future for him, other than being a farmer who believed the old legend that the "red stones" was the blood of the gods that battled in the heavens long before man was on the world. Running away at a young age, Varus was once a mercenary for hire who followed where ever the gold took him. This resulted in getting into battles when the pay was right - as such, he saw things that he was never ready to see.

He has since changed his ways, and become a more honorable mercenary, helping those in need when he can, offering his services for cheap, sometimes even helping people, free of charge if the situation was desperate enough for those in need. This is the story that “Varus” tells everyone. In truth, this is a mixture of what is truth and a lie.

The young man who claims to be “Varus Oathblade” is actually a young man named Deran Tully hailing from Redstone which was a small community, rarely even noted on most maps in Faerûn. Varus Oathblade was the son of Bran Oathblade, who was said to have once been one of the members of the Purple Dragon Knights, serving Cormyr.

When Varus was old enough, he left Redstone to follow in the steps of his father. Deran, eager to escape Redstone ran away at a young age, and lived off the streets, until one day, making the mistake of picking the pocket of a knight – which happened to be none other than Varus Oathblade. Recognizing Deran from Redstone, he took him under his wing as a squire, hoping to one day prove that Deran could be redeemed in the eyes of Cormyr and become a member of the Purple Dragon Knights.

During a goblin ambush, Deran found himself in peril, and Varus rushed to his side, to save his squire. In doing so, Varus left himself open, perishing in the ambush, but saving Deran’s life. Deran took up Varus’ greatsword, and with renewed vengeance, slaughtered the onslaught of goblins in blinding fury. How he had overcome over twenty goblins, he could not say. Everything had happened so quickly, and when it was all done, he stood over Varus’ body with the bloody bodies of goblins strewn about.

Deran decided to honor Varus the only way he knew how to – he adopted Varus’ name, and has set out in the world to make Varus’ name one that bards will sing of, forgoing and forgetting his own name in the process.

Personality Trait: I’ve lost too many friends, and I’m slow to make new ones. This is a reference to actually losing Varus, who was the only person who ever truly showed any belief that Deran could be more than just a farmer and a petty street thief
Ideal: When people follow orders blindly, they embrace a kind of tyranny This comes from what he learned from Varus, who frequently stood up for him, when others believed that Deran would never amount to anything. This has caused a slight, rebellious streak in Varus.
Bond: Someone saved my life on the battlefield. To this day, I will never leave a friend behind. This is obviously a reference to Varus sacrificing himself so that Deran might live, during the goblin ambush.
Flaw: I made a terrible mistake in battle that cost many lives—and I would do anything to keep that mistake secret. Again, this is another reference to Varus giving up his own life for Deran.

Chaos wrote:
Chaos.

It’s unpredictable and you can never be ready for it, no matter how much you think you are.

Within moments of visiting Triboar’s local apothecary run by a man named Tarmock, Ralmavik received a warning from his fey steed that danger was around us. As we stormed out of the apothecary, we saw that raiders had descended upon Triboar and were wreaking havoc in mere seconds.

Orcs – larger than any I had seen in my short travels were riding on the back of large, bird like creatures, whose beaks were being used as a weapon to cut down innocent commoners. Small, fire like creatures were running amok, seemingly taking glee in the opportunity to burn anything and everything down that they could.

One of these … Orogs spots us as we come out of the apothecary and rushes us. It’s up for a challenge, and I am as ready as I will ever be. Delmar quickly moves into the open field so he’s not cornered – smart, considering his profession. Freya’s next to Oranssi, and I can hear her chanting that odd sound of magic. I’ve not gotten used to her… Coming from a small town… I was raised taught that people like her were evil… and did evil things… but that’s the opposite of what I’ve seen her do. Oranssi, another unusual being that I’ve never seen before, until coming into this group – seems to be a giant of some kind, though not as tall, but certainly just as intimidating… if you didn’t know that he was actually quite the gentle soul. Ralmavik charges into the middle of battle, engaging several mounted Orogs. He’s another one – a being that emits some kind of holy presence – and not because he’s a Paladin – but I’ve seen him sprout wings, as if he were a messenger of the gods.

The others that I travel with are probably dealing with something similar elsewhere in this small town. Freya’s brother, another Tiefling by the name of Girandole has mastered the Wizardly magic. He’s very attached, and very protective of his sister. There’s the other unusual creature that rides with us – Ootruk – something called a Dragonkin. Apparently some… off shoot of a dragon breeding of some kind. I’ve heard of Dragons taking on human forms – I have wanted to ask if that’s how he was created – the mating of a Dragon in Human form and a normal human… There’s another that I met, just before coming to this group – and yes, some would think he made unusual company too – but Tarn, who is a Half Orc Barbarian has saved my life a few times and earned my trust. I can’t help but wonder how he feels having to fight his own kind? From what little he’s shared about his past, his Orc people shun him for being a “half-breed” – so he may not have too much of a problem laying his own kind to rest.

The screech of the horrible bird with the lethal beak drew my mind back to reality. Its rider – one of the Orogs – brought his weapon down on me, and only because I raised my arm, and his weapon clashing against the arm piece of my chainmail armor, did he not cleave my head in two. I hear Oranssi casting a familiar spell – a spell that allows him to share my pain, by absorbing the inflictions brought upon me.

As I fight the Orog – all the while trying to avoid its mount and its lethal beak – I can see Ralmavik engaging with two of the Orog mounts. He’s good – and angelic or holy – he won’t last long against two of these things riding around him, striking viciously.

Sure, Ralmavik isn’t without his own mount – a recently acquired fey sabretooth tiger of immense size – but these Orog’s were not only stronger than your average Orc, they seemed far more skilled as well. I wanted to get to his side – to help him – but to do so would be leaving Oranssi and Freya to fend off this Orog and his crazy mount. For now, Ralamavik would need to rely on his skill, his fey mount, and his armor to keep him alive. I could not abandon the cleric and the Warlock.

My concern for Ralmavik is quickly put at ease as I see Delmar land an arrow directly through one of the Orog’s temple. Mental note – keep an eye on the rogue and never let him get behind you or allow you to get distracted.

Several Orog’s were commanding the smaller fiery creatures to begin burning down the trees and farms, and any buildings they were near. Freya managed to use her magic to strike one of the fiery beings which caused it to explode. Two such creatures approached the apothecary attempting to burn it down – I engaged with one, striking it hard and true with the Oathblade that I had the dwarf Foehammer had helped restore. The creature exploded, and again, luck was on my side, as I barely burned. A second creature approached, and as I struck it, I knew better this time, and easily dodged the explosion, which allowed me to turn my attention back on the Orog, now that I had stopped the fiery creatures from burning down the apothecary.

Over the sounds of screams, burning buildings, commands shouted by Orogs, I heard Ralmavik call upon one of the Orogs and demanded it to fight him; the two began exchanging blows. Freya destroyed several other of the fiery beings, trying to stop the spreading blazing buildings from any more damage. Delmar moved around the field, quickly and effectively, as you would suspect a Wood Elf – or any elf, for that matter – to do, and continued to launch a volley of lethal shots to all those attacking the village.

Bleeding profusely, Oranssi and I managed to finally take down the one Orog who had engaged us at the apothecary; while the others seemed more effective at killing the large orcs. If they looked and knew my secret, perhaps they would know why I don’t fight as well as one might suspect. Gripping my blade and burying my doubt, I see Freya running towards a burning building. Above it all there was the sound of a child screaming from within.

She was not slowing down, and I watched in horror as she burst through the door and entered the burning building. I was steps behind her, and I tried to shout for her to stop – but she did everything I was taught someone like her would never do – she selflessly ran into the burning building… as someone who grew up in a farming community, I could tell, much to my horror that the building was going to collapse any moment. I got to the broken door, when it had done, just that.

All I could think was that the damn Tiefling had sacrificed herself to try and save an innocent child. It’s no wonder I ran away from Redstone… their narrow minded thinking… everything I learned growing up there was wrong…

Screaming for Freya’s name, I suddenly saw her stone hand rise above some of the rubble. Sliding my sword into its scabbard I jumped into the burning rubble and pulled her free, thankful to see she was slightly worse for the wear. Hearing a child still buried, we managed to pull the child out of the fire and Ralmavik was able to use his holy abilities to restore life to the child.

I heaved a deep sigh of relief; there was still fighting. But I was feeling better about everything.

That’s when the smoke and ash from the building that had just collapsed began to disparate. Then my eyes could see something in the not so far horizon.

Two giant lumbering figures slowly approaching.

“Fire giants,” I heard Oranssi whisper.

Chaos.

It’s unpredictable and you can never be ready for it, no matter how much you think you are.

(In this week's game...)

Delmar – Colin – Wood Elf Rogue
Freya – Leah – Tiefling Warlock
Oranssi – Steve – Goliath Cleric
Varus – Tawmis – Human Fighter
Ralmavik – Andy – Aasimar Paladin

(Not in this week's game)...

Girandole – Rich – Tiefling Wizard
Ootruk – Bruce – Dragonkin Monk
Nova – Veronica – Human Ranger
Tarn – Mark – Half Orc Barbarian

Rath Darkblade wrote: Ohboy ohboy... sounds like your fighter was in quite a scrape, then! Not sure what Orogs are, though.

Rath Darkblade wrote: How did the fight with the fire giants go?

Rath Darkblade wrote:Hmm. Wouldn't the Orogs be vulnerable to sunlight, then?
Also, what are they riding on?

Rath Darkblade wrote:Never heard of them, no.

Rath Darkblade wrote:Ah... I haven't seen the MM for a long, loooooong time. I don't have my core books any more, although I do have some 2nd-ed non-core books (e.g. The Complete Book of Villains, Of Ships and the Sea, Sages and Specialists etc.)
By the way, that picture looks like a rather sad emu.

Rath Darkblade wrote:But a prepared party could make dinner out of it?
Those legs it runs on look like they could be roasted. "Look out! Here comes dinner!"