SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 28TH - MASTER AND APPRENTICE CAMPAIGN 1 : SESSION 6 RECAP
*On Gnolls, forbidden woods, and bad feelings that turn out to be right - Aldor’s Journal
We kept pushing north toward Icewind Dale. Somewhere along the road, that familiar itch between my shoulder blades kicked in—the one that says we’re about to get jumped. Sure enough, two packs of gnolls thought they’d found easy prey.
They were wrong.
I caught their approach early and slipped around wide, while Ukalis and Cade took to the trees and made their stand. Those “trees” were the very edge of the High Forest of Faerûn.
The fight was ugly. Gnolls don’t believe in fair fights. Ukalis and Cade took some brutal hits—javelins, snapping jaws, flails swinging like the they had grudges older than history. I dropped one myself and made a nuisance of the rest: caltrops underfoot, smoke to break their lines, and a first class potion delivery service.
Eventually, the gnolls stopped moving. Always a good sign.
We picked through the remains — Ukalis made out particularly well with a handful of healing and poison vials, and one very fancy heirloom-quality hair piece. Don’t ask. I didn’t. Some mysteries are safer left alone.
That night, we camped and took a long rest that felt genuinely earned. Full bellies, sore muscles, and nobody bleeding out for once. A rare luxury.
The next day, though, that being watched feeling came back. Stronger this time. The High Forest has a way of doing that to you — makes you feel like a guest who didn’t knock. I managed to dredge up enough history to remember that these woods don’t just protect themselves… they have help.
So I did the sensible thing and called out in Elven, loud and clear:
“We mean no harm. We are Friends of the wood.”
That’s when she appeared.
One moment — trees. The next, a she-elf stepping out of a trunk like the forest itself had decided to speak. Her armor was bark-infused, perfectly camouflaged, and frankly impressive in a way that made my leathers feel like a bad joke.
She thanked us for killing the gnolls. Apparently, they’d been raiding the forest edge for some time, and being right on the threshold of the High Forest made them a persistent problem for her people the Waywatchers as it were.
We struck a short truce. Her terms were simple: no fires, no killing living things, and we’d be welcome under her protection.
I won’t lie, being under the watch of the sentinels of the High Forest is about as safe as I’ve ever felt on the road. If something wanted to hurt us, it would’ve needed to get past the forest first. That’s not a fight anyone sane picks.
Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay long. After another day’s travel, we left the forest behind and turned north again, the only comfort in that was getting a parting glance of the Grandfather Tree, deep in the High Forest. Its canopy wider than islands, and its roots older than perceived time…but, back to it.
Our swing east to throw off any lingering eyes from Neverwinter was done. Whether it was the indirect route or Melania’s decoy amulet doing the heavy lifting, it seemed to have worked. Either way, it was time to move faster.
Our next stop was Longsaddle — the last decent trade town on the Long Road before civilization is behind you. On first watch one night, I spotted another traveler walking the road with a torch. Alone. Odd, but this road is the only one heading north, and paranoia only gets you so far. I didn’t wake the others or follow him. Maybe I should’ve. We’ll see.
Longsaddle itself was a welcome change: hot food, strong stouts, and a proper inn bed. I checked us in while the boys hit the mercantile to sell off gnoll loot. No suspicious glances, no sudden silences. For once, it felt like no one was watching us.
The next morning, we set out for Mirabar — but Ukalis remembered something along the way. Morgur’s Mound.
Turns out it’s an ancestral site of the Uthgardt Wolf Tribe (the same northern barbarians we’ve mentioned before - nuisances for hundreds of years now, terrorizing the people south of the Spine of the World). The mound was named for Morgur, supposedly Uthgar’s brother, and carved ages ago by the Thunderbeast Clan. The mound itself is shaped like a Thunderbeast: “a wingless dragon with a long neck”. Most modern scholars say that’s just a fancy way of describing a brontosaurus.
Naturally, we investigated the ancestral tomb, or holy place, depending on who you are.
We didn’t get far before skeletons clawed their way out of the earth. Ancient dead, angry about being disturbed — classic! We held our ground. Ukalis worked his magic, Cade brought down righteous judgment with Vowshatter, and the rest of us made sure nothing got back up again.
As we pushed deeper, we saw it — a strange purple light glowing ahead in the dark, surely its something not absolutely dreadful…you know what they say, Mages/Employers first….
And that’s where we are!
For the history books, if this ends badly, I just want it noted: I had a bad feeling about this place from the start. Northman tombs in the shapes of dinosaurs isn’t on my bucket list, but I guess well find out!
Keep your torches lit, and your sword arm free…The Maze will be back soon!
