Tales of The Elsir Vale

Getting the band together

Our SIX heroes engage the darkness under Skulltop Hillock

Lard, Silaqui and Wapagokos were not the only ones motivated to get the Ogre and rescue the kidnapped villagers. There were three Dauth natives who had been scheming to take on Blogg and free their town. The most recent events were the final straw.

Their party consisted of Morlar Widgetblaster, a Gnome apprentice wizard, his constant companion and sworn guard, Krahn, and a wealthy bard who was friend to both, Elan. They had been there when Dayl and Jonas were taken. They were also troubled by Durbin’s disappearance and the weird goings on around town. But mostly, they despised the Ogre and the cowardice of the Town Council who refused to see the problem with a greedy Ogre living on their doorstep.

The group negotiated a quick deal with the mayor for almost the same terms as the outsiders. But knowing the town and having prepared for this day for a while, they were quick to hit the road. One final stop by Tarik’s house and they would try to catch up to the Dwarf and two Elves.

Tarik was glad to see someone from Dauth finally gather up the courage to take out Blogg. He gave them all the information he had; which was essentially the same as what he had told the first party. After the group finished their drinks and Tarik took their cups, he gave them an item wrapped in cloth. It was a crossbow bolt that Tarik said may help in putting down one with an evil heart. It was perfectly made but all of metal including the fletching. He claimed it was magical and it sure looked it. He also said that unlike most magical arrows and bolts, it could be used again and again and that it had saved his life on several occasions back in his younger days. Morlar graciously accepted it and all three of them pledged swore to use it to shoot Blogg in the eye. Tarik giggled at the thought and wished them luck.


Just as Lard, Silaqui and Wapa were finishing up the Goblins and burying them at Sheryn’s insistence, the group of townies happened up to the standing stones. The initial minutes were tense as the Dwarf and Elves were still a bit hopped up from their skirmish. However, cooler heads prevailed and the six would be saviors decided to join forces. Sheryn wished them all good luck and said she would pray to the forces of Nature for their safe return.


After a two hour hike, the leering visage of Skulltop Hillock comes to view. It is a large weathered hill, the top of which is shaped like a humanoid skull including hollow depressions for eye sockets and a rough gaping maw. A small trail makes its way toward the ominous hillock, under the watchful void of the stone skull’s eye sockets. The ground in front of the ogre’s cave is trodden with many hoof prints, and barren of all vegetation.

A large stone boulder, obviously used to block the cave entrance, has been pushed to the left. Beyond is a dark cave, perhaps 10 feet wide and 12 feet high. In the distance, the constant bleating of sheep can be discerned.

After some discussion and observation of the cave entrance, it was decided that Wapa would climb above it to see what he could see and Silaqui would watch him in case he needed help. The others would slowly enter the cave and begin to explore but stay within earshot of Silaqui.


The fight against the vulture: Wapa is nearly killed but Silaquistabilizes him and drags him through the roof hole.


Search reveals the mushroom recipe book and a small black leather pouch marked with a bright red hand. The pouch contains 27 sp, 7 gp, and a piece of amber shaped like a mushroom.

The wolf lair


Elan moved quickly through the cave. He could feel that the Ogre and their journey’s end was close. He could imagine the song he would craft to tell of his besting the Ogre in mortal hand-to-hand combat. He was already thinking of how he could leave out the part that the Ogre had been poisoned by Druids and that he was defeated by a quick back stab that would severe his spinal column. All of this he thought but he did not think to look for traps and by golly he sure did find one. His foot caught on a thin, almost invisible wire. As it pulled along with his stride, the shelf above him gave way and a bundle of huge logs, twenty feet in length and some as thick as a birch tree, came tumbling down. They down like thunder, rolling and splitting, carrying with them a cloud of sawdust and dirt that covered the young bard. Only his quick, dexterous step saved him from being crushed. He was pinned, he was dirty and he was hurt. But he was alive. Not that the rest of the party knew that yet . . .



Thanks to the dead wolf’s collar I now have a pet fire beetle.

Getting the band together

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