Failgotten Realms

Sorry I TPK'd, Here's Some Gold
Pay No Mind to This Lead Attached to Your Nose

The party awakens several days later in the infirmary ward of the temple. There are notably fewer priests wandering around, and though signs of battle have been all but completely scrubbed from the walls and floor of the church, a heavy air of despondency hangs over the Oghman clerics.

The non-heroes are summoned to the garden in the back of the temple by Highest Lorekeeper Arlan Böschen, a severe-looking man, built like an ox. A fat ox. A fat, bald ox. With glasses.

He waits with a considerably less-burly Oghmanyte, whom he introduces as Cassius Stormhammer, a mage and prelate of the church.

After a brief conversation, the non-heroes determine that the attack was perpetrated by a group of hobgoblin mercenaries based at the far edge of the forest to the east.

And so it is there they shall go!

On the way to secure a barge ride up-river, a shady-looking dark elf accosts the party and uncreatively requests to join the party, as their goals are slightly similar. His name is Bamboozle or something fucking gay like that, and because he is a PC, and ONLY because he is a PC, the party allows him to join the cause.

Only later will they realize, this is the biggest mistake they could possibly have made.

On the docks, a mishap wherein dock workers trip over the halftief and nearly crush her with a box secures the non-heroes free passage on a barge up-river. They’re off!

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Oghma Gawd!
How Shit Got Started

The night seemed peaceful enough, quiet, clear, and cold. Not exactly the sort of night you expect a campaign to begin.

Usually it’s raining or something.

Anyway…

A caravan of goods shows up outside the front of the temple, the noise of which draws our intrepid non-heroes out in front, at the behest of their intrepid GM, who refuses to operate a split party at this point in the game.

A few porters start unloading boxes out front, and a cloaked man sits at the head of the cart, his face hidden in shadows for maximum dramatic effect. There are neither guards nor bystanders anywhere to be found.

Without warning, fire beetles explode from the boxes and make straight for the temple door, unleashing gouts of flame to burn the door to a crisp. Overhead, the sounds of goblin chittering can be heard, and there is a heavy thud and the crash of stone from inside the temple.

As our non-heroes dispatch the fire beetles, the cloaked man stands to face them. The shine of the full moonlight reveals a waxen, expressionless face. From behind the wax face, he issues a sinister laugh and disappears in a flash of light and a puff of smoke.

Rushing inside, the non-heroes are ambushed by goblins! Arrows fly, blades flash, magic explodes! The sounds of battle echo throughout the temple, and our non-heroes are certain this attack could be targeting only one thing: the artifact from the Elemental Chaos!

Once they’ve fought their way down into the basement of the temple, their suspicions are confirmed. The wax-faced man stands at the back of the basement, cradling the strange object in his arms. It’s wrapped in some kind of magical vestment. Between him and the non-heroes is a band of goblins and hobgoblins.

“Kill them all,” the wax-faced man orders them. He then opens a portal and disappears.

In the battle that follows, the non-heroes are soundly beaten, knocked unconscious and Left 4 Dead™. Their foe has eluded them.

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Pre-History
Why Are We Doing This, Anyway?

Oghma, being a deity devoted to knowledge and the collection thereof, encourages his followers to go on adventures of discovery.

During one such adventure, a well-funded foray into the Elemental Chaos, the Oghman priests and explorers returned with an item they assured their sponsors was one of great mystery, power, and potential. Thus began their research.

With the item cloistered away deep inside the main Oghman temple in Waterdeep, priests, wizards, and all manner of scholars began studying the properties of the mysterious item in total seclusion, their findings all kept under strict secrecy by order of the high clergy of the church.

Meanwhile, several people of note (only because they’re PCs) linger at the temple.

Johnny Pure, masquerading under the pseudonym Ron Mexico, is a guest at the temple, claiming to be visiting from Spirit Soaring, a monastery to Oghma and the dead deity Deneir located in the northern mountains. The dwarf is actually a servant of Cyric, here investigating a lead given to him by someone… secret.

Rawq-Ock is a fire genasi and Swordmage in service to Netheril. Although the Oghmanytes don’t realize it, Netheril (using a front organization) was one of their most generous sponsors for the adventure that turned up the artifact. He is at the temple representing this front organization and attempting to glean some information about the item the clerics brought back.

Byznatch Supertwat, a tiny tiefling (one might call her a halftief) who claims to be only 1 year old accompanies Rawq-Ock. Her likes include stabbing, burning, and killing. Her dislikes include not stabbing, not burning, and not killing.

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