Faerie Adventure: Missive #1

[Editor's Note: The messages sent to me by Gwynedd are badly crumpled, stained with an unknown reddish, wine-like substance, and occasionally unintellligible due to poor penwomanship. Not to mention simply outlandish at times. Please don't kill the messenger, er, editor.]

The Faeries left the Tower stepping out quite stylishly. TirNaNog was garbed in her usual gray magic hat and pleated, gray plaid skirt. Delphianne wore a formal peach-rose robe and an unusually daring mask to match. Yellow befits Pollen and she flitted about in characteristic haste. Gwynedd looked slept-in with mismatched leather, studded, ringmail, and plate armor. She, at least, donned her green, Faerie featherd hat.

After a brief discussion of missing Faeries, the four gated to Skara Brae for last minute forgotten reagents, potions, swords, sandals, wands, food, camping supplies, bags, pets, books, candles, lanterns, and make-up. Understandable since they had only two months to prepare.

Ilshenar was evidently the destination, but there seemed to be some initial confusion as to differences between the Shrines of Spirituality, Sacrifice, and Humility. Certain that their Faerie cousins were close to Spirituality, Tir led the group through a gate. Then the trouble began.

"I forgot something," said Delphianne, jumping back through the gate.
"Let's camp," said Pollen. "This looks like a good place."
"I need a quick nap," said Gwynedd. "This backpack is killing me."
Tir rolled her eyes.

After a quick reconnoiter of the surrounding area, the Faeries ventured Northeast, searching for Piku, Isla, and other cousins. Which they shortly found blasting skeletons into piles of charred bones.

"Hmmmm," commented Tir, always the observant one. "Looks like an old fort or cave." Gwynedd had been around Tir long enough to understand the connotation of "hmmmm." She quickly switched swords and put on her helm. They went inside.

In the middle of a difficult battle with 35 skeletons of various abilities and numerous imps, the irrepressible Tir noticed some stairs and descended. The others were quickly with her and now they were in a dungeon, a real dungeon, with blood on the stone floor and fear in their little Faerie hearts. But not for long. The blood became Blood Elementals and the fear became bravado. Pollen skipped ahead. Gwynedd changed weapons and gulped. But Tir and Delphianne let loose their steeds and several Blood Elementals were dispatched.

While marveling at their victory, they heard the deep and unmistakable bellows of Daemon-kind. The Faeries re-grouped and decided that they would not be deterred by the malintentions of a Daemon, actually several Daemons. Pollen ran ahead and began casting Fireballs. The steeds kicked and bit into Daemon flesh. Gwynedd's sword sang.

Pausing and contemplating the carnage on the dungeon floor, Tir suddenly brightened. "I wonder what's in that round room," she said, and whistled to her steed.

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> [Editor's Note: The messages sent to me by Gwynedd are badly crumpled, stained with an unknown reddish, wine-like substance, and occasionally unintellligible due to poor penwomanship. Not to mention simply outlandish at times. Please don't kill the messenger, er, editor.] > The Faeries left the Tower stepping out quite stylishly. TirNaNog was garbed in her usual gray magic hat and pleated, gray plaid skirt. Delphianne wore a formal peach-rose robe and an unusually daring mask to match. Yellow befits Pollen and she flitted about in characteristic haste. Gwynedd looked slept-in with mismatched leather, studded, ringmail, and plate armor. She, at least, donned her green, Faerie featherd hat. > After a brief discussion of missing Faeries, the four gated to Skara Brae for last minute forgotten reagents, potions, swords, sandals, wands, food, camping supplies, bags, pets, books, candles, lanterns, and make-up. Understandable since they had only two months to prepare. > Ilshenar was evidently the destination, but there seemed to be some initial confusion as to differences between the Shrines of Spirituality, Sacrifice, and Humility. Certain that their Faerie cousins were close to Spirituality, Tir led the group through a gate. Then the trouble began. > "I forgot something," said Delphianne, jumping back through the gate. > "Let's camp," said Pollen. "This looks like a good place." > "I need a quick nap," said Gwynedd. "This backpack is killing me." > Tir rolled her eyes. > After a quick reconnoiter of the surrounding area, the Faeries ventured Northeast, searching for Piku, Isla, and other cousins. Which they shortly found blasting skeletons into piles of charred bones. > "Hmmmm," commented Tir, always the observant one. "Looks like an old fort or cave." Gwynedd had been around Tir long enough to understand the connotation of "hmmmm." She quickly switched swords and put on her helm. They went inside. > In the middle of a difficult battle with 35 skeletons of various abilities and numerous imps, the irrepressible Tir noticed some stairs and descended. The others were quickly with her and now they were in a dungeon, a real dungeon, with blood on the stone floor and fear in their little Faerie hearts. But not for long. The blood became Blood Elementals and the fear became bravado. Pollen skipped ahead. Gwynedd changed weapons and gulped. But Tir and Delphianne let loose their steeds and several Blood Elementals were dispatched. > While marveling at their victory, they heard the deep and unmistakable bellows of Daemon-kind. The Faeries re-grouped and decided that they would not be deterred by the malintentions of a Daemon, actually several Daemons. Pollen ran ahead and began casting Fireballs. The steeds kicked and bit into Daemon flesh. Gwynedd's sword sang. > Pausing and contemplating the carnage on the dungeon floor, Tir suddenly brightened. "I wonder what's in that round room," she said, and whistled to her steed.
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