Denc Wormington, the road to Freeport

All those years ago, West Karana was often so foggy that you could barely see ten feet ahead of you. Not the best situation when there might be a giant or bandits wandering around. Today it was clear and sunny, a good sign for my trip, or at least a convenient one.



I didn’t want to press my luck, so I headed south to the water’s edge. Easier to follow the water than the poorly-maintained West Karana roads if things get murky.

 

 

 

 



Many creatures call the Karanas home, but I had forgotten how large the spiders could be. I was itching for a fight I guess, so I laid into this giant, twice the size of me. I was feeling good after Blackburrow, figured I was fast enough to avoid his strikes and keep him from pinning me down.

I was right, but after I got warmed up, it started running away. The sport of the moment was gone, so I just let it go.



I came across a bandit camp, but there were too many of them for me to do much about. They didn’t seem to notice me, maybe figured I wasn’t worth the bother. I suppose if I looked at me nowadays I wouldn’t think I was either.

Still, I tried to pick this guy’s pocket as I left their camp. Didn’t wait to see if he noticed.



There’s been a lot of battles out on these plains. I don’t recognize the banner, but I do recognize zombies, skeletons, and ghouls when I see them. I’ll take a pass, today.

 

 

 



Finally I see my halfway mark, as far as the Karanas at least. The old spires.. I heard tell once they were tied into some teleportation network.. I wonder if they ever got it working?

I bet if they ever did, the League of Antonican bards would get it shut down because it encroached on their mail service. That’d be just like politicians.

 



I had planned on swinging down through South Karana to make a stop at Split Paw, the other Gnoll stronghold.. but I got a tip that it got overrun some years back by undead gnolls, and then after that, elementals. Poor bastards.

In all the fog, I had never really noticed how many settlements there are out here in the Karanas. I suppose maybe they weren’t all there before, but either way I had imagined this place as a few isolated farmers and bandits, and then a whole lot of emptiness besides. I don’t mind being wrong.



I suppose it’s not very surprising that this bridge is still here as I remember it. I don’t know how, or I guess who, got those giant chains up there like that, but it seemed to me at the time that it was holding the whole continent together. In the shadow of this bridge seems as good a place as any for a camp.

 

-Denc Wormington, ex-rogue

Denc Wormington, Blackburrow and points east

With some of my newfound wealth, I picked up some arms and armor. Wouldn’t do to get gutted right out of the gate. There’s even some funny lion statues you can ride around on these days, but I don’t trust ‘em much.

Uncle B and I set out from Qeynos with a bounty on Gnoll Fangs. The logical choice was Blackburrow. It was right where I remember it.





Since I didn’t have any nephews hanging around, I hired an armsman to back me up, name of Keuvin. I think Keuvin’s a dumb name and I told him so. I kept the dumb looking part to myself.

 

 

 

Inside Blackburrow, we worked our way down to the lower level. Back in the day, you’d have a dozen men and women here, fighting back the gnoll menace.

But here it was, not a soul in sight, and the gnolls didn’t seem that much more menacing. You’d think they’d have overrun Qeynos. Maybe those lines we got fed about them trying to kill us all were lies, maybe they just want to be left alone. Well, no sense getting all introspective now, seeing as I stabbed about fifteen of them on the way in.

 

 



It looks like all those jokers killing snakes finally finished them off, but the gnolls seem to have gone out and got a different kind to replace them. Worse yet, these new snakes will gang up on you if you make ‘em angry, so I moved on. Would’ve fancied one of those big fangs for old time’s sake.

 

 



I met a fellow old-timer down in the tunnels, name of Vamenn. He was one of those magicians or whatever you call them. I could tell because he had some little elemental gremlin following him around.

We made our way around the bowels of Blackburrow, but when it came time for me to be eyeballing up the Commander, I just didn’t feel up to snuff. I hadn’t really admitted it to myself, but those years of not being fed enough, not doing any training or fighting, being prison-sick and beat down have really brought me low. I’ve been holding this lantern in my off hand, figuring I need the light, but really I feel such a weakness in that arm I don’t think I could strike with a dagger.



Soon enough, it was time to leave Blackburrow, and I wanted to continue on my journey. Qeynos felt like doubling back, so I handed my gnoll fangs to Vamenn, and told him where to collect the bounty.

 

 

 

I remember Uncle B had quite the stash of gnoll fangs, and I guess it was impressive in itself that he could even go hand them in. He was an Iksar, you see, and Qeynos sorts don’t usually favor them much.. I guess he wasn’t really my uncle so much as a family friend with a convenient need of a helper at an adventurous time in my life. I still called him Uncle B.



Next thing I knew we were headed East into the Karanas, and I wouldn’t be back home for some time.

 

-Denc Wormington, ex-rogue

The adventures of Denc Wormington, part 1

I can’t remember a whole lot about that night. What I do recall is something like this -



- a guard standing over me as I lost consciousness, after a failed run at a warehouse we were tipped off had a pile of gold relics coming through.

It’s been a great many years since that day. The dungeons in Qeynos aren’t that special, but what comes next isn’t any better: These same paragons of justice sold us off to some slavers.

I guess they did that whenever the dungeons got too full.. off the books, of course. Antonius Bayle would never allow that sort of thing. Ha!

This morning I woke up with my cellmate trying to get a little grabby at me while I was sleeping. Where’s he find the energy for this?



Arias has always been a little ‘touched’ in the head. I’m sure he’s got another escape plan.

 

 

 

 

 

Sure enough, he says he wants to get us out, but somehow this time he manages to get the door open.



Now, I’ve been at this game a long time, and I’m not looking to get any more attention than I need. Arias goes first.

Some kind of meeting must be going on, because we only had to deal with one jailer to get the key out of our block. I head for the exit;Arias runs around opening all the other cells. Hopefully the racket they make will cover my escape.

 

Out in the main chamber, they start setting up shop like they’re going to fight the slavers, and it seems like we’ll have to to get out, but then my eyes pick up on something -



the exit.

Now, everyone else seems to want to stick around, maybe some kind of sense of justice in taking out the slavers or whatever, but I’ve spent too much of my life in shackles at this point to risk going back. I need to get back to Qeynos, and see what I can salvage, and move on while I’ve still got time.



The gnoll infestation back home seems as bad as ever. Kind of comforting, in a way. I shiv down a couple of the little bastards while I work towards my little bit of hope..

 

 

 

Amazing! My stash is untouched, after all these years. An old dagger, some blackmail material, and under the false bottom, another, smaller box.



I had pinched it on the side from a banker’s desk in one of our jobs. In this little lockbox, a tender note from the king that should convert to a cool ten thousand platinum.

From what I’ve seen on the trip back, money isn’t worth what it used to be, but whatever it is worth will sure beat being penniless and eating giant rat feet for supper.

I had stashed it since it was surely too hot to try to cash in at the time, but now? Pfft, I think they forgot about this twenty years ago.



I had dreamed of knocking this place over when I was young.. but here I am on legitimate business. Legitimate! Just keep it cool.

I hand in the note, and he credits my account. I guess I might as well leave my coin here, no sense being the old man walking around with a big bag of money.

 

That done, time to stop by the old places and see if any old hands are still at work. Mostly new kids, of course, as this is a young man’s game. A few from back in the day here and there, enough to keep my blood inside me where it belongs when I poke my face in.



It’s all about as nice as I remember it, which ain’t nice.

 

 

 

 

 



Now that I’ve had some time to think about it, there’s not a whole lot for me here. Maybe it’d be best to stay out of the game, and live out my life in peace.

No, I don’t intend to die that way. Thinking back, before I got caught up in all of this, I remember following my uncle, as a young lad, on a great adventure.. maybe, before I die, I can retrace those steps.

 



Let’s see where this takes me.

-Denc Wormington, ex-rogue