Legacy of Ozzammar

Research Notes: Amadeus Algernaught Fink

Note #07081801

Pneumatic air pump on board of the ship in need of repairs. While preforming well under a temporary and undesired bastardization of its intended function, the primary piston is completely seized up due to rust, filters are in need of replacing and the graphite fuses are blown. At the conclusion of these repairs, I should take note of all final costs and compare them to the value of the orphans lives.

[6 male orphans] X ([45 years life expectancy]-[9 year old average entry level occupation age]) X [320 gp annual income] ≠ [Pneumatic air pump repairs]

Being orphans, they are likely to preform less desirable later in life due to deep seeded abandonment issues. Note: further research needed.

Note #07091801

Biological Anomaly: Taurus Sapian

Subject Name: “Thunderhooves”

Thunderhooves chooses to seclude himself away from society and other creatures. Both of the “root species” that comprise a Minitour are considered to be “herd” or “tribe” in social construct. Desire to exclude one’s self from any social construct may more likely be associated with a nurtured reasoning; not a biological “natural” explanation.

Theory: Thunderhooves was feared by civilized society and gave up on the prospect to seek a more secluded lifestyle. Hard to say, as Bastonne is historically accepting of a multitude of different races, species, and even some electromechanically resurrected corpse constructs (see. Note 04111733).

Note #07091802

Party members seem to be under the impression I approach their well-being recklessly. This is a false assumption. The value of their tactical presence far outweighs and immediate gain seen from their loss in a single encounter. I am well aware of the explosive capacity of an incendiary ticker, the resultant pressure wave, density of Krull’s shell, and relative proximity of all effected parties.

Regardless, their perception of my actions may have as much gravity as the actions themselves. Note: Regain trust of Rhogar, Krull, Dain, Nata, and Herschel.

Journal 2
Running Errands

We decided to grab a couple rooms at the Braying Mule Inn after kicking those Sultan bastard’s teeth in. Whole place smelled like burnt Nitrol, but can’t beat a free room. Felt good to finally bash in some skulls. It’s been too long.

Turns out that Jebidiah is part of some rebel group looking to make trouble for the Sultan’s forces. Gave us intelligence on Sultan troop movements and asked us to bring it so some bloke named Martin in Grand Mass. Not sure why he’d trust a bunch of green-bellied whelps with such information, but it seemed like a good place to start, so I didn’t ask questions. Not sure I trust these mis-fits myself. A Dragonborn, a dwarf and a goblin walk into a bar… ha If the ’guard could see me now.

Against an old dragon’s wisdom, the Dwarf and Goblin insisted we pass on perfectly good horses to ride for some new-fangled iron death machine into Grand Mass. Apparently people have gotten so soft they drop bags of gold to ride around with their fat asses nestled into pillows. No wonder we were conquered by Elves. Ha. Anyway, we skipped the fancy seats and rode in the back with the rabble. Thought we would’ve encountered some trouble after choosing the cheapest seats, but apparently the powers that be couldn’t be bothered to give us a decent fight. Did have an odd dream on the way though. Some bastard with a huge cannon of a wanker blasted the train off the mountainside coming into Grand Mass from a tiny warship in the harbor. They crowned him for the deed and gave him a big ass throne on top of the castle. Gotta lay off the Nitrol.

Martin turned out to be a shifty little bastard in charge of a bunch of whelps he called the Oster Knights. Wanted our help in sucker-punching Sultan troops just south of the city, until the Goblin started running his mouth about blowing up bridges. Apparently that tickled Martin’s fancy, but the shifty bastard couldn’t be bothered to supply the explosives, so we set off to find some near the docks. We found a dynamite maker, but the Goblin wanted to break in and make off with the goods. I wasn’t about to be the first Dragonguard to be caught for petty theft, so the Dwarf and I grabbed a drink at the tavern. Ran into some trouble with the local guard, too, after he smashed his mug of ale over the guards head. Turns out the bloke is wanted for kicking the ass of some noble little shit who was disgracing himself by raping some lass. This Dain might not be half bad if he stops sucker-punching patrons when I’m trying to enjoy a drink at the bar. Anyway, convinced the guard commander to let us go for an old story about the Dragonguard breaking the siege in Breach.

Not even two swigs into an ale later, the damned dynamite maker himself sits down at the bar and starts sharing his life story with the Dwarf and I. We kept him busy just long enough for the Goblin to get caught by a Sultan guard as he was moving the dynamite in a make-shift cart. We were able to dupe that poor bastard with a bit about missing papers and got the hell out of there. On the way back to Martin, the Goblin recanted his tale of the dynamite caper. Apparently convinced the town guard he was a chimney sweep after getting caught scaling up to the roof. Ha. Could’ve used the clever little shit when we were infiltrating Giant camps in the war.

Martin was at least a good enough man to see to it that the dynamite maker was compensated for the theft. Don’t know why he couldn’t have just bought the damned stuff in the first place, but no sense crying in the breast milk. We took the dynamite and set out for the bridge. Maybe one of these Sultan blokes will offer a decent fight…

Legacy Campaign
The fate of modern Ozzammar is in your hands.

Session Summary 4/8/17

Our story begins in the Braying Mule Inn, nestled in the streets of Hyperion. Amadeas Fink, a Goblin Engineer and Dain, a Dwarven Brawler, share a drink at the bar after a long day at the Hyperion Engineering Summit. They are soon joined by Rhogar, an aging Dragonborn Palidin and his Elven Ranger squire, Theiberos, who seek a drink and a warm bed on their journey to find adventure. Also present is Oba Do, a so-called War Weaver, who is in search of those he may be able to help. The adventurers introduce themselves over drinks. Dain sucker-punches Bergo, an innocent bystander.

The calm atmosphere of the bar soon erupts in turmoil as a shifty, inexplicably Oriental, gentleman by the name of Jebediah implores the crew to aid him in defending against forces sent by the Sultan. They oblige his request and take up arms. Rhogar takes a vicious hit early in the battle, but shrugs it off and cuts down two of the Sultans men. Fink finds a bottle of highly-potent Nitrol and hurls it into the fray. In an attempt to give Dain enough time to flee the resulting pool of Nitrol, he attempts to only ignite the outer edge of the puddle. The result was a massive fireball, catching both friend and foe on fire. Dain did not seem to mind. The fumes also formed a cloud of noxious gas, poisoning all those caught in it and shrouding the battle. Eventually the last enemy fell and the day was saved. Except for the innocent bystander earlier punched by Dain, who foolishly tried to attack him and was engulfed in flames.

Safe for the moment, Jebediah gives Fink an envelope containing intelligence on the Sultan’s forces and asks them to deliver it to the city of Grand Mass. After some deliberation, the adventurers agree to the job and set out, leaving the smoldering Braying Mule Inn behind them.

Encounter Highlights

Most Kills: Rhogar 3

Notable deaths: Bergo


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