The Seventh Day of The Rotting
The Year of Raining Tears, DR 1415
Velen. As the winter snows start to dust the Wealdath, further inland, the Dragon’s Head is swept over by storms whipping up from the southwest, funneled inland by the Small Teeth to the north and the Starspires to the south.
Several ships port in the bay, waiting for gaps between the storms to escape into deeper waters. One, in particular, beckons to Idle Hands; “The Fateful Flight.”
No more fitting a name could they have found, though Fate doesn’t tend to work out the way people would prefer…
The night was settling upon the ship along with a rather decent storm heading in our direction. I took a moment to speak with the first mate and try to learn something about her. It seems as though with the ability to cast magic that taking to the sea was her only hope. it’s a shame such an expanse of water can become the last place of safety for people… I bid her farewell for the night and retreated to hull for the night. Unfortunately the following day held more rough seas and the signs of a much darker storm off in the distance stalking us as we continued out journey. With the thought of yet another menacing storm front hitting us on my mind I slept lightly and thankfully it saved my life.
As I lay back sleeping I was awoken by the loss of my bearings. It seems as though the storm had finally taken its toll on the ship and was leading it to its watery death bed. As gracefully as I could I grabbed my pack and tried to find what direction lead up to the deck. Shortly after finding the way out my vision went black. I was awoken by the sound of waved breaking on the shore and the cries of sea birds. Thankfully enough I found the sun and my body laying on the stable ground of dry land. The ships wreckage was scattered about me along with the bodies of its crew. Gladly I was able to find my companions alive among the sands and driftwood. After we all got our bearings we buried the bodies of the crew and decided to continue our travels north.
Slowly but surly we made our way up the coast in silence taking the opportunity to take in the fresh sea air and gather our thoughts. Before being able to collect our thoughts and form a new plan of action our thoughts were disrupted by the yells of a band of mercenaries. Gathering myself for battle I ran towards the closest set of boulders and hid until I was able to get into a position to launch my assault. Sneaking behind the boulders I managed to get into ranger of the enemies. I charged up the hill and began my onslaught of attacks. I fought long and hard against out foes but in the end I met a dark ending. After being tangled in a net my vision went black once again.
The battle cries of my friends brought me back to my senses. There I found myself tied at the hands and ankles defenseless. My vision starting to clear up I tried to wrestle my way across the ground toward the mercenaries. Slowly I made my way to the feet of the closest mercenary and I began biting at his feet. Trying to distract our foe from my friends I did all I could from where I was left. Yelling and biting yielded nothing as I watched my friends fall one by one and getting tied by the mercenaries. I attempted another attack only to find the underside of a foes boot… The world went dark.