Exile on Drochtrèdia

The Beer Run Beasts
8/12/2017 adventure

Grizzly’s the name
And grizzled the face
Who sent us on
An adventuring pace

With naught to our name
And hops on the lack
To save the drochtredia brew
stout Kau, Peren, and Mac

Snakes could not stop them,
though tall as an oak,
for Macs eyes were clear
and Kau filled them the smoke.

They could have stopped,
They could have turned back,
But the bravest of heroes
Would rather throw a cold one back.

Into danger they strode
And they walked with such swagger
The mere sense of their mettle
Made the farm vermin scatter

The hops! The hops!
That emerald delight
The beer would be saved
But not without fight.

For with their cries had stretched
Far into the hills,
And awoken the Rat Kings,
The foulest of ills

With a shriek the beasts charged
and the very trees bend
and the rat horde did come
our heroes’ bones to rend.

Mac stood her ground
And with a shuddering roar
‘You cheese brains can’t take us!”
Laid a dozen to floor.

They stabbed and they sang
They clawed and they bled
Till Peren the mighty
split vermin king from head.

battered and bloody
the only ones standing
they packed up the hops
and headed back to the Landing.

They won’t ask for fortune
They won’t ask for a cheer
But for all the gods sake
Just buy them a beer!

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The Annals of Drochtredia
A living history of our time on this continent

Here are written the records of our exploration of this strange continent, as recorded by the storytellers of our age.

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The Turning of the Blight
How Mariner's Landing secured its future.

I am no minstrel, but someone needed to record what happened, and I cannot find Na'lor at the moment.

A blight was attacking the town, quite physically. Strange creatures that seemed an admixture of plants and animals were throwing themselves at the outer homesteads, even reaching the walls at times. We didn't have quite so many citizens or soldiers with magical talent at that time, but we knew fire could drive the monsters back. For this reason, Rocksalt and the other whalers were given special rights over the gulf's waters and began hauling in whales as quickly as they could. We used their blubber to burn the monsters, flinging it from catapults when they would approach.

In time, Na'lor devised a ritual to weaken the magical flow that was strengthening these creatures, and we assaulted the mountainside. I lost several good men, and got my damned leg broken, but Na'lor got the spell off and we made it home alive. He tells me that the Ley Line running through the mountains was weakened though, at least in that spot. I don't know what that means, really, can't see half the things that elf goes on about.

Anyway, that's what we've been through. Better hands than mine may write the coming records.

-Cpt. Quinston

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