Hârn: Genisis – Entry 16


24th of Agrazhar in the year 720 TR

The last few sessions had gradually grown more rare and finally fell off completely after the last game. I had recently moved out of the city most of my fellow players lived in and started a new job, the GM was busy planning her wedding and other events started to crowd prep and playtime, resulting in an extended hiatus.

It took almost three years, but we finally got the band back together and picked up where we left off! A few things changed; we added a new player, one of the players switched to a new character and a couple players misplaced their character sheets in the intervening time and had to regenerate them, though they kept to the original vision for their character as much as possible. Our play style as a group also had evolved over the years in my Shadowrun campaign and others alternate groups. We have begun to streamline the system a little bit, doing less with random encounters and role-playing out every day, which we had done before even when nothing of interest was happening, and reducing and streamlining character development by removing the need to specifically practice skills throughout the month.

Some notes were lost and our memory of events were a bit sketchy, so we spent much of the first session working through our history with the GM and reminding ourselves of who and where we were, what we were up to along with other rumors and information we were pursuing. The past entries were all written after we decided to start back up, so much of the detail included in them is either stuff we remembered, had taken notes on or was fabricated based on my best guess and to make an entertaining read. Going forward, I intend to write the entries as they happen, which will make them far more accurate and a better record of our game.

We picked up game on the road north of Chantry Tigris on our way to Togarma.

In the last few days, we traveled through the Dark Wood and reached the road heading north to Togarma.

As the days passed, I seemed to be gaining some measure of control, building on the good will gained from rescuing the Irklings. I even dared to hope that perhaps salvation was not as far away as I thought. Of course I could still feel the Savage straining deep inside and the Voice whispering and prodding, looking for weakness. When the moment came, they surged out as though my days of control were nothing.

Along the road to Togarma, I was caught off guard by cries for help coming from around the bend and the shrill shrieking of creatures. The Savage burst forth with the rush of adrenalin and I was washed away. As we ran ahead, we came upon an Sindarin running down the road towards us, four Gârgún in pursuit. The Voice wryly claimed that the Sindarin had clearly wronged the Gârgún and that we should slay him on the spot. Echo was not amused.

I think combat is one of the only times the Savage and the Voice find common ground with the Cleric of Larani, though for very different reasons. We both charged forward, Echo placing himself before the Sindarin and engaging the first Gârgún. The Savage charged the next, striking it in the chest at a dead sprint. The third closed, swinging a club at our head. The Savage was so caught up his blood lust that he ignored the attack, shrugging it off as though it were nothing, and slashing the third across the chest with our second axe.

The fourth continued after the Sindarin and the Savage turned his back on the other two and threw one axe at the Gârgún, nearly severing one of its arms completely from its body before he turned back to the other two. I must admit the Savage lacks an ounce of fear and has a commitment and absolute faith in his every strike and move that I could only dream of channeling as a gladiator. Every move has purpose and is made with every intent to kill and maim in a single blow.

The Shek-Pvar and the Sindarin began unleashing spells and hurling arrows into the fray, safely behind us as Echo and I had succeeding in diverting all of the Gârgún’s attention on to us. Echo slew the first and, between the Savage and the mages, we laid low the second. The last, with his crippled arm, turned on us, away from the Sindarin, and charged.

Again, the Savage dodged away from the smash of a club, slashing one Gârgún with our remaining axe and then turning and striking the charging creature square in the forehead. The Savage did not even struggle with the weapon, releasing it just as he buried it in the creature’s skull and drawing his sword seemingly in the same motion. The last Gârgún did not survive long.

Afterward, the Sindarin introduced himself as Falcon and a Cleric of Siem, the god of dreams, Sindarin and, coincidentally, the dream realm we had just seen the Tree Mogs, their Sindarin handlers and Violet return to. He was also on his way to Togarma as one stop of many as he seeks to bring the word of Siem to the men of the world. Echo seems resentful of the Cleric and his faith in Siem, but puts up with him for now.


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