Overlord Rising

Trevor's Tale

I used to be an adventurer, but I gave it up. I had been adventuring ever since I was a kid and a few of my friends introduced me to it. It wasn’t always easy; as time went on I became a devout follower of Apsu, and my friends had a good time picking on me. (I should note that this ridicule wasn’t directed at Apsu, since many of them also followed Apsu; instead they thought that my way of worship was odd, even though it was based on the actual scriptures, which I doubted they had even read). Nonetheless, we had a great time adventuring until things began to change.

As we adventured, I noticed my friends began to get more vulgar, until they were laughing whenever I said words like “mandate”. Men will be men, and out in the wilderness you need humor to keep your senses about you, so I let it go.

Then, the adventures themselves started to change. I enjoyed tactical combat situations; although I am nonviolent, I still like to direct others and observe the results. But more and more we found ourselves do things like fishing and shopping. Oh, the shopping was the worst! Why couldn’t they just shop on their own time, and battle monsters when we were together?

After a while, I got fed up and left the adventurer’s life behind. I joined the crew of a sailing ship (on which all the sailors are allergic to fish) and sailed away to distant lands. Week after week we visited fantastic realms, from Catan to Westeros, and I honestly didn’t miss adventuring. And when we came to a new port I would spend my days in the taverns sipping exotic drinks. Every once in a while, I would send letters to my adventuring friends to mock them; ah how the tables had turned!

But alas, all good things come to an end, and suddenly we found that our ship had been sold, and we were conscripted into the service of a party of adventurers! All of my memories then flooded back, and it was quite horrible.

For starters, the adventurers had some unbelievable misconceptions about the purpose of the ship’s bell.

Furthermore, they laughed every time one of us said we were going to go below decks.

It was quite unbearable, but fortunately they had a mission which took them away from the ship. On one particular morning, after we had been moored outside the Flotsam Graveyard while the adventurers explored shipwrecks on their own, they ordered us to sail into the Graveyard itself. We were quite distrubed by the notion, but their druid led us through the dangerous waters and we remained safe.

They then left us again, and returned a few hours later, toting a huge and ornate mirror. We were unimpressed, but their bard insisted on telling us their story.

He said that they had returned to the sunken ship where they had been the day before (actually, two sunken ships), and had continued to explore. Within minutes, they encountered a ghostly figure who was guarding the artifact that they sought: the Eye of Boccob. The ghost immediately attacked them, and possessed the body of their priest. (Priests, one should note, are particular susceptible to attacks against their willpower, especially when the undead are involved). The adventurers battled each other, while the bard turned invisible, enlarged himself, and grabbed the mirror.

After that, a typical battle followed. The priest had been protected by a freedom of movement spell, and had good armor, so the adventurers had a difficult time grappling or damaging him. Eventually, the ghost left his body and they defeated it.

The apparently found other treasure on the boat, locked inside an old chest, and then returned back to our ship.

Luckily, the bard revealed that we would be sailing back to Forestdale, and our time with them would soon be at an end! We promptly set sail, confident that soon we would be rid of them.

On the second day of sailing, we saw a ship astern and observed that it was gaining on us. As a precaution, the druid cast a spell to increase the winds, and we began to pace the other ship. Then the bard and the druid jumped into the ocean to take a closer look, and soon returned with news that the ship was manned by what appeared to be human slaves of the drow. One of them had cast a similar spell to the druid’s, and the ship began to catch up with us. At that point, the bard then flew back to the other ship and quickly destroyed their rigging in order to slow them down.

That afternoon, the ship caught up with us again. One of the adventurers happened to know how to communicate via signal lamps, and they slowly flashed a message at the pursuing ship. The slaves claimed that they were completely out of fruit, and worried about scurvy. The adventurers bade us to dump a barrel of limes into the ocean, and a few minutes later we saw the sailors on the distant ship hoist it aboard. The ship then changed course and left us. The whole encounter was about the level of excitement that I prefer.

We sailed on toward Forestdale. The next night, I knew, would find us in a tavern Forestdale. Ah, the freckled wenches would surely prove my downfall!



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