NeverQuest Adventures

[Mayhems_Muse]

Greetings, Adventurers!

Here, we'll post the diaries of our players, and any thoughts about our Homebrew D&D Show!

[MojoSeraph]

Diary of Ravener, Day 9,200:

We landed in a strang place where the sky is the ground and the ground is the ground too. I am not sure if "landed" is the correct word. We fell through a portal, and this is not a place I recognize. The half-elves are up to something, and I don't think they care what the Gnomes want - as usual. The dumb one tried to explain where we are, as if he actually knows something, and then ran away to explore all his vices vowing to destroy all his organs and glands... that left the rest of us to deal with the necromancer, find lodging, some food, and of course a nice bath. He's as useless as always.

After interrogating the bones and gaining no useful information about anything that anyone even cares about, everyone went out and I decided to take a very needed nap. As there wasn't time for a bath, I got to sleep while I floated in the bed of water!!! Then I went and found the half-elves because clearly they were going to need help as the Gnome and the Cleric are smart enough to take care of themselves.

The dumb one had an orgy with a horse, succubus, and some kind of floating brain with a beak creature that I think he actually is in love with. Somehow he lost a vital organ, which just shows you he meant what he said, and he is clearly broken. The other one told me about a "murder club" and while I am not at all interested in murdering someone, it is always quite interesting to follow him and see what happens.

I don't know where my brother Gnome is, or the pretty cleric lady who is really tall. I hope they are okay. Garbanzo doesn't seem to be worried so I think I should just wait and see. I need a new hat, this one is getting a bit beaten up. Also, underpants... I want some that are more colorful and perhaps silky. The pretty cleric lady has some like that, and they look very comfortable. I want to ask her where she got them, but we are trapped in this strange realm and I don't think it was here as she seemed as confused as the rest of us. Also, she is human and I have learned they don't like it if you watch them when they are getting undressed. No one ever notices a Gnome.

[SALLstice]

Diary of Peren Graycastle

Finally.

Years of wandering and roving across the plains of the mortal world have finally culminated in leaving those plains for a new plane. My trip and arrival were less than typical, but what else could be expected when dealing with the ever-changing chaos of life? It was not anything like I remember of Alja’s stories. Granted it was through a mixture of bizarre arcane magic and even less understandable science we managed to tear a rift through reality and landed not so peaceably in the City of Doors. I would have much preferred that plain wooden door in an unending inky blackness.

I’ve been here for not even an hour and already I have a list of infinite layers of things I wish to see, hear, feel, smell and experience. With barely enough time to fully explore that grey waste before being unceremoniously whisked away, I want to be sure I know every sensation I can before being pulled into some other overly complicated roguery.

I also very much want to meet the beings of the multiverse. I feel like they would have seen so much more than I could ever hope to see. Devils and Angels, Modrons to Slaadi and everyone in between. I want to meet them all.

I don’t have a plan. Why would I? I’m going to explore these seven heavens and partake in any and all opportunities presented to me. When the week is through, I’ll have lived more than most live in their entire bleak eternity. Never a moment wasted.

-Peren

P.s. Don’t forget why you wander.

[StableAbe]

Diary of: Tunnels
Diary Number: Tunnels
Date: Tunnels
Location: Tunnels

Tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels, tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels, tunnels tunnels tunnels. Tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels, tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels. Tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels. Tunnels tunnels tunnels, tunnels tunnels. Tunnels tunnels tunnels: tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels. Tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels. Tunnels tunnels. Tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels. Tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels. Tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels. Tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels. Tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels tunnels.

Tunnels tunnels tunnelstunnels tunnels tunnelstunnels tunnels tunnelstunnels tunnels tunnelstunnels tunnels tunnelstunnels tunnels tunnelstunnelstunnels.

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-Tunnels

[Mayhems_Muse]

Journal Entry 1
Aleta, order of the Tome of Gilean

Gileans spirit is a continual guiding presence. I feel him continually, in each step that I take. Though this journey may have led me far from the path I had expected, that is the purpose of my service; to follow where he leads, though the way may be fraught with terrors and wonders aplenty.

My quest for knowledge of the Demon Lord Tomes has taken me a vast distance from the home of my studies. I traveled across time and multiple planes of existence, eventually ending up in a foreign land I had never discovered, through all my years of study. I suppose it should not come as a surprise that such elusive lands can be reached, and this does give me hope for finding my way to the Abyss, and through it to Krynn, the land that Gilean fell so in love with that he sacrificed everything to bring mortals the gift of Magic.

I followed word of the thieves of the Demon Lords tomb to a subterranean tunnel under some city I had never seen before. There were a set of strange cave drawings I thought might be referencing them, but for the LIFE of me I could not discern their meaning. Suddenly there was a horde of the strangest folk, babbling about treasure and shovels and assassins, asking a plethora of questions and ruining my reverie. LUCKILY, one of them spoke the language on the wall, and was kind enough to translate for me. FINALLY, I was a small step closer from halting the release of the demon lords.

I felt ingratiated to these folk for helping me in my quest, so agreed to accompany them on their current (mis)adventure. I'm afraid my insatiable curiosity got the better of me here, for these folk surely are more trouble than they are worth. But... There is no room for caution in a life lived to the fullest, is there? *sigh* Perhaps this is what they meant when my teachers chastised me for my failure to stop and think before immersing myself in the unknown.

My adventures with the So-Called "Heroes of Horrormont" or whatever they call themselves took the strangest turns recently. We ended up in a land shrouded in Mystery. Well... It was shrouded in the strangest fog that seemed almost sentient, at least. Surely that counts as mystery. Though I tried my best to keep these adventurers out of trouble, my curiosity again got the better of me, and I found myself in a mansion on a hill, with werebats and a GORGEOUS library that I was loathe to leave. Ghosts roamed its halls, there were trap doors and hidden portals that lead to corridors in the walls... It was everything an adventuring knowledge cleric could hope for!

I was horrified to learn of the previous masters penchant for turning loved ones into flesh golems. I shudder every time I think of it. To take the sanctity of life and pervert it in such ways. To take such sacred knowledge of magic, and pervert it so atrociously... Such a shame. Such a damnable shame to see such an amazing gift and squander it. Perhaps that is the true horror of this place? That it takes the most special and unique aspects of a person, and twists them into something unrecognizable.

After a few days in this horrible land, the Adventurers were able to poke the Necromancer they had been chasing, provoking him into an attack I shall remember even in my darkest dreams. Such horrors I have not witnessed in the flesh, and my readings only led me to the faintest whispers of such evil magics. I realize now that there is so much more to the universe than I originally comprehended. I have so much to learn, so far to go, before I can stand a hope of defending the world from the nefarious aims of the Demon Lords. It will take all of my mental strength and concentration to stand up against them. More study is required.

These journeys have wearied my mind... I cannot write more just now, for fear that I will transcribe the details in an unclear fashion. Sleep and reflection need to happen now, and I will return to these pages when my mind is once again calm and collected. Gilean, guide me in my journeys. Help me gain the knowledge I seek, to serve you faithfully, and to bring glory to your name.

[Icendar]

I don't know if I'm allowed ot post in this thread, but...

..."Heroes of Horrormont"...

...made me laff.

[Fiat_Lux]

Diary of Alamar Vel Crow. Date:? Entry:?

Well, tomorrow I’m searching the city of Sigil, the city with EVERYTHING, for its finest purveyors of murder based entertainment. I’m not really an advocate of that kind of activity. Killing JUST for killing, especially when you have all sorts of advantages, seems tacky, annoying, and probably evil. It’s not for me. Though … my issues with the activity may not be strictly intellectual. This won’t be my first time in a murder club, but it’ll by my first time as a patron, not a potential victim.

It happened in Neverwinter. Of course, it was, right? That’s where the rich people live, and rich people will do ANYTHING as long as other rich people can’t afford it. They need strata. Strata give their lives meaning. Isn’t that weird? That joy becomes utilitarian at a certain point. It’s only fun if it serves a purpose. What an assy way to live. There are some excellent rich people; those are mostly people who are either oblivious or indifferent to the strata, OR their the ones who have stories about their wealth. “On, this giant pot of gold? I won it playing cards with a pit fiend.” That’s a good adventurous type. They’re pretty fun. Rich people who “own property” or “work in trade” tend to be dull, miserable, and the patrons of murder clubs.

How did I end up there? I owed the wrong guy money, lied to a different wrong guy, and hid in the wrong place. So there I was, in a well-appointed room eating grapes and drinking something fancy. Every so often, someone’s name gets called, they leave. They don’t come back. So, I’m waiting, figuring I’m probably going to die. I mean, I didn’t have a real plan or anything. Eventually, I hear my name and I end up in a big circular room. Folks were looking down on me from above. That’s when I noticed the chandeliers.

After some shattered glass, and the birth of a few fires I ducked out in the confusion, but I learned a valuable lesson. Rich people love this ****, and if I’m going to get the right people pouring money into the dinosaur races, there’s nowhere better to start than the local murder club, and if things go pear shaped …. well, I haven’t even tested the gem since we got out of Borovia.