Kingdom of Isles

Brother Palomar's Journal (Entry 3)

Tropical island

We have been waylaid.

Shipwrecked upon the accursed island known as Sailor’s Hook with a number of fellow castaways, we have been completely cut off from any ability to answer the rising threats that face the Kingdom of Isles we discovered while in Rann’s Grotto. Faith in the Sovereign Host be my guide that a greater purpose may come about from this ordeal.

I remain focused on our survival and escape from the Hook, determined to make our way to an abandoned lighthouse known to be on the southwestern shore with the hope of restoring its use. Strangely, most in the group are not similarly purposed but see these circumstances as an opportunity for adventure. I must find patience and compassion when dealing with those who do not share my convictions even while remaining faithful to my charge.

I have been called by the gods to deny myself an ordinary life in order to embody their teachings and serve the highest ideals. Their way is not my way and I must continue to serve regardless of the circumstances. I have had significant opportunities: to show leadership and protection in guiding and inspiring our group; to provide healing and comfort in treating Ness Ramora’s alcoholism, Din’dae and Magus Enoreth’s illnesses, and the group’s injuries; to battle the forces of evil through faith and combat in smiting the evil depravity of the Molgus-worshiping Red Fang cannibals on the island. Praise the Sovereign Host.

Brother Palomar's Journal (Entry 4)

Camp sovereign

It has been a week since we were shipwrecked and over the course of our travels south, we were beset by a creature that seems to stalk us at night and the Red Fang cannibals. We faced these threats and others the island had to offer and continued on.

Reaching the southern shore we found that the lighthouse still stood… though now the cornerstone of the cannibal tribe’s village. In our greatest battle yet, we faced the wrath of the frenzied primitives who thirsted for our blood and hungered for our flesh as they came pouring out from various huts and even the lighthouse itself. But to no avail. The Sovereign Host is on our side and our gods are greater than their corrupt god of decay.

As the chosen vessel of divine will, I have been ordained to deliver mercy to the faithful and judgment upon the wicked – even as great Adamaro with one hand forged Creation and with the other smote the entities of The Void. The cannibals’ presence is a blight upon the face of this island and I desire to purge it completely of their evil.

Following the victory was a time of celebration and blessing. The lighthouse, though in need of repair, is mostly intact and what remains of the permanent structures of the village will make a more secure camp (which I posit we call Camp Sovereign) from which to establish our safety, survival, and rescue – as well as serve as a permanent site from which to explore the island further.

Brother Palomar's Journal (Entry 5)

Mother s cave

I must take a moment even now in this sinkhole of evil to write what I have witnessed.

We have descended below Camp Sovereign, entering the covered pit within the former Red Fang cannibal village, only to find an ancient temple constructed by some primordial snake-like humanoid race. Throughout the temple, images depict scenes of sacrifice, blood, and slavery. But one image in particular bodes ill for the world now – that of a detailed ritual at an array of stone megaliths that when completed raises the dead and controls the weather. Celia has preceded us here and apparently already performed this ritual, though for what malign purpose I know not.

I have recorded the details of the ritual here and attempted to duplicate the image with my own hand in the hopes that in so doing aid any effort to prevent or undo whatever threat there is.

I must confess that the frustration I had felt at being waylaid from my quest against The Unknown One has abated somewhat with the discovery that I once more find myself set against some great evil – a purpose which fires my passions and to which I now feel solely called. Praise the Host.

Din'dae's Journal 4 - A Lighthouse to Remember

Image   din dae with chainmail

It has taken many miserable days and nights, and no small dose of fighting and bloodshed… but we have finally made it to the Lighthouse. A structure once infested with the evil flesh eating savages, has now been cleared by strength of arms, arcane might and divine blessings.

Hmm… in retrospect the odds were surely stacked against us. Attacking the Red Fang Cannibals in their stronghold and us outnumbered nearly three to one. But I for one was through with running… through with being prey. As I looked at the others I could tell they were too.

We worked well together and won the day, and quickly set to searching and securing the camp. The sadism of these vile creatures becoming increasingly evident as we move building to building and room to room. But it appears that even among savages, politics and power plays can seek to sap ones… vitality.

These cursory mechanization aside, a discovery was made that risked raising my ire once more. Celia was here. Not as a captive, but by all accounts an honored or respected guest. Reasons why are starting to became all too clear now that we have descended into the tunnels below the lighthouse. A place we will discover what Celia is after, and gain a hint at WHAT she may actually be…

Din'dae's Journal 5 - Mountain top to Oceans Floor

Image   din dae with chainmail

As we continued our decent through the ancient passages below the Lighthouse of Camp Sovereign, more hints of the evil that once inhabited these dank tunnels became evident. An evil not completely in line with the witch Celia’s goals it appears as signs of battle can be seen through out this place. A battle whose victor commanded powerful magics to slay undead and collapse tunnels.
A battle, by our assumptions, won by Celia.

Again she eludes us… always one set ahead… but we are closing the gap. We now know where she is going, even if the why plays like deep sea fog upon our eyes, not ready to reveal what lies ahead. But we will not be deterred. We will not falter. For the crimes against us, and the evil she seeks to unleash she WILL be brought low!

I hold my own confidence in this as I freshen our supplies for travel and my comrades update the other Castaways on what we found and where we are headed. In less than an hour we are off. Emboldened by our recent victories we travel along the established trails making great time for it. It is only hours before we reach the highest point of the island and find the structure depicted in the cave reliefs. The tracks we follow going here and then back down to the coast then here again, and finally back to the coast. A process we mimicked after a fleeting encounter with a harpy. An encounter made short by Enoreth’s always timely spells.

Threat neutralized, we realized we would need to call upon the magic of the ruin, to follow our prey. Gathering the regents needed for the spell, we head back to the hill top where Palomar leads in the ritualistic spell. A spell that caused the very ocean in the bay to recede, revealing a large set of double doors. Slowly and ominously opening.

We move quickly back down to the bay and across sea rocks and reef to again enter the unknown to face down evil. The evil of a long dead race…. the evil of a sinister seductress… and possibly a legacy of “He Who Should Not Be Named”.

Fate expects much of us it seems… I aim to not disappoint her!

Din'dae's Journal 6 - A Nightmare Lifted, A Curse Endured

Image   din dae with chainmail

We moved quickly to the coast with a sense of urgency and encountered a twisted Harpy that seemed set to delay us. Its screeching sound seemed to enchant my comrade in arms, but nothing shall stop my blades from spilling Celia’s blood. With effort of all, we drove this hag back and continued on our quick pace to the Doors in the now empty cove.

If it was not for the deadly prey we sought, and the feeling that every moment mattered, I would have marveled at the powerful magics used to move and hold the coves waters at bay. Time, time for wonders can happen after this witch is dead.

Under the sea floor just off the coast of the Hook we faced undead creatures, dangerous traps, and ancient magics from a culture long dead. Through many hazards we fought until we came face to face with the snake in human form. Celia.

Not feeling threatened by her, we advanced. She fled combat by smearing some blood on a statue and turned to mist. I was not going to be denied. Without thought or plan I performed the same action and gave a vaporous chase while my companions fought her pets. This quick action was perhaps the first of my mistakes. I was blinded by my desire for justice. My desire to end this threat. In the kobold warrens if you move to fast you could loose a limb or a life. It was there I learned to be patient in approach and mindful of step. Lessons I seemed of have abandoned on the cursed isle. heh… cursed..

Through a long drain I moved until I came to a large room. There Dask was standing over the slain body of Celia. I could not believe my eyes. I did not want to believe my eyes. I knew this was trickery, more of her magic. I played along and tried to inch closer. She saw I was not buying what she was attempting to peddle and attacked dropping her ruse. I was ready and Windslpitter cut her deeply, but her claws too were quick and sliced my skin. It was hear I should have realized I was out matched. Instead I fought on. My second mistake.

It was not long until the others began to arrive and join the battle. Celia summoned more amorphous minions of chaotic nature, a Seed of Molgus to fight for her. We took some hits but began to turn the tide. We were able to disrupt the magic that fueled the evil of the isle. Its nightmarish hold could be felt slowly fading away. It should have been no surprise that again the which smeared her blood on one of the grotesque statues and turning to mist, began to flee combat. I had been temporarily blinded and did not see her go otherwise I would have quickly followed.

Khaine and I fought against the final minion while Palomarand Enoreth turned to mist and gave pursuit of the which. When we defeated it and turned to leave Khaine noticed a hidden compartment on the base of one of the statues. He asked me to check it, I only wanted to go after our prey. In my haste I did not put my full focus to the task, not wanting to take the time to do the job right. As I did not “notice” any traps I opened the compartment. My third mistake.

As the ancient magics coursed through my body, the pain of it twisting and creully reshaping me was unbearable and I dropped to the floor. Khaine came to my aid but took a step back at what I had become. CURSED!

Palomar Exhorts Din'Dae

Upon Palomar and Enoreth’s reunion with their allies, Palomar viewed the curse that weighed heavily upon Din’dae and regretted even more the escape of the villain Celia. Nevertheless, he spoke to his elven companion of hope, faith, and the will of the gods borne out through mortal hands.

Though I am but a mortal man, know that my words are inspired. This does not speak to any greatness on my part, but that the gods, having chosen to remain in the heavens, consider it no mere thing what fate befalls us, their children. They care enough about us to speak to us, to guide us, and to make miraculous intercessions through mortal hands such as mine.

By this evidence we know them. But what of when evil befalls us, sorrow reigns supreme, and all seems lost? Have the gods abandoned us or become powerless? No. We as mortals have freewill to choose faith or despair, good or evil, order or chaos and events bear those choices out. But when the will of the Sovereign Host is inscrutable remember that faith is the proof of things unseen, that we can know that all things work together for good to them that place their faith in them.


Din’dae, though we come from different cultures, do not think our faith is not the same, for Gremmen is one of the Host and we revere him as well. It is written that when Gremmen fought the beasts of The Void in the Forge of Creation he too was disfigured and then even appeared to fall. And when his enemies thought him done he arose empowered and crushed them. Gremmen works towards balance through change, ensuring that after every winter comes the spring. It may now seem winter to you, but have faith that spring shall come, my friend… Spring shall come!

Palomar's Journal (Entry 6)


Having made it to Akadimar nearly a month after we set out for it, we have arrived only to find it in flames! As it turns out however, the greatest damage seems only along the coast… a naval attack? Who has the power to attempt such a thing? The pirates of Darkharbor? The Truscanni Empire? Certainly not the goblins… do they even HAVE watercraft?

While my mind turns ever towards those issues that I have been ordained to address, I know the other members of the Alliance have their own concerns as well. Khaine and Din’dae possess an association with the Kingdom’s military, Enoreth with the magi with which he trained, and then of course Jemmrand Sorrowtongue, who has still not reached the destination for which he was bound. I also expect that our fellow castaways, having survived the ordeal of shipwreck, will attempt to resume their lives.

  • I must inform the church regarding my discovery of the Unknown One and the endeavors of the serpentfolk witch Celia, and possibly the Darklord as well, to revive this elder god.
  • I wish to share our discoveries and explorations of the formerly cursed island with the royal cartographer or some such person or guild.
  • I desire to understand what threat to Akadimar caused the destruction seen there.
  • Finally, after conferring with the rest of the Alliance and praying to the Host, I shall decide upon a course of action.
Jemmrand's letter to Lady Hogalen
Funeral Fail


Lady Dierdra of house Hogalen,

I write to you with head hung low, knowing how disappointing it must have been to see your Lord and Husband Gembra Hogalen laid to rest without my renowned heraldry. You chose to commission a master-eulogy for Lord Hogalen because his deeds and life were deserving of the finest commemoration, and I hope you were able to conduct a dignified and glorious service for him without my performance.

It was never my intention to fail in my duties to your proud house, but as you must have no doubt heard, the ship I took to travel from Akadimar to Ran’s Grotto never reached its destination. I survived capture by pirates, shipwreck on the Sailor’s Hook, attack from murderous cannibals, and battle with monsters foul and moldy. I have only today returned to Akadimar, rescued by a passing ship some days ago.

The events of Sailor’s Hook and now the devastation in Akadimar have thrust me into a role of some importance, and there is much I must do to aid the King in protecting the Kingdom.

As a man of honor, I am glad to hear that Billius returned my fee to you when I did not arrive. I intend to complete my journey to Ran’s Grotto and to write a biography of your late husband free of charge, once my adventure to assist the Kingdom is complete. If I do not survive, I shall greet him in death and learn his story in the hereafter.

In grief and glory,
Jemmrand Sorrowtongue

Epic of the Alliance - Chapter 1

Jemmrand sorrowtongue

Upon the sailor’s hook marooned,
an island stained with blood and goo.
lost fighters, scoundrels, cadgers, crew,
with grit survived together

The gnashing hunger of Red Fangs
met cutting blades with squeals and clangs
the dark skinned damsel quit the gang
and brought the foulest weather

she shed her skin for slimy scales
where ocean on the stone shore wales
a spell held back the stormy gales
revealing tunnels under

An ancient temple, drips with fright
with evil magic dark as night
the witch escaped in misty flight
the elf cursed snake by blunder

A pirate’s gold, a captain’s log
a pod of mold, in a fungal fog
they sought the fight, despite the slog
Restored the forest spirit

They scourged undead without complaint
and shone the beacon that was faint
though none could cleanse the serpent’s taint
not all would ever fear it

There’s stories told of heroes bold,
of powers old as giants
before stones quake, before the break,
their fists would shake: defiance!
now all is cracked, the skies turned black
there’s no well-backed reliance
but far from home, joined on the roam
was born the Unknown Alliance.


I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.