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Welcome to your Adventure Log!
A blog for your campaign

Every campaign gets an Adventure Log, a blog for your adventures!

While the wiki is great for organizing your campaign world, it’s not the best way to chronicle your adventures. For that purpose, you need a blog!

The Adventure Log will allow you to chronologically order the happenings of your campaign. It serves as the record of what has passed. After each gaming session, come to the Adventure Log and write up what happened. In time, it will grow into a great story!

Best of all, each Adventure Log post is also a wiki page! You can link back and forth with your wiki, characters, and so forth as you wish.

One final tip: Before you jump in and try to write up the entire history for your campaign, take a deep breath. Rather than spending days writing and getting exhausted, I would suggest writing a quick “Story So Far” with only a summary. Then, get back to gaming! Grow your Adventure Log over time, rather than all at once.

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Alden's Journal Page 1
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Alden’s Journal

Midsummer, 1083 AG (Anno Gerhard)

Mother demanded I start writing this journal when I left the new farmhouse. “You’d have nary a soul to speak with!” she had said. I told her I had the horse, Freki and Geri, and she replied animals don’t count. I would never pass along those words. Still, I do miss companionship along the road. Hothgar had been constant as a boulder pushing me when we hunted down the Jackalites, but he refused to stop, refused to leave. I would not let my family die. I suppose that brings us to the Jackalites. I guess here along the farmer market roads, passing only peddlers and farmhands, that the danger of those people seems only a shadow. Yet, shadows lurk everywhere. I will make some notes of the Jackalites below should whomever read this journal have the displeasure of their company.

Jackal Thugs

All jackalites bear a mark somewhere on their body that resembles the head of a strange Merceshian hound from which the group draws their name. The hound is noted for having sharp pointed ears and snout. The mark is only plainly visible on the groups brutes. Mostly Merceshian, these thugs are marked clearly as enforcers to show the groups strength, while others bear the mark as a brand. These branded can be of any race, but are indebted to the group for their lives. In exchange for life, they must become the groups warriors.

Jackal Chiefs

I wish I knew more, but only that these individuals are often marked with a color tattoo. Unlike the underlings, this marking can be hidden anywhere on the body. I have seen the mark upon the man who murdered my father in blue upon the innner thigh. I have also seen a Merceshian woman with a yellow mark placed along the top of her neck constantly hidden behing her dark tresses, which are semi-sacred to the desert people. That is all I know, for now, besides that they are a gang of murderous thieves who have an eye to make money off any individual who tries to make an honest living in the Eld.
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Alden's Journal Page 2

Late Summer, 1083

So much time has passed since my last writing. I do not possess time to write unless I find myself resting in a proper room. So many nights, I have spent under the stars resting in a tent after a late afternoon hunting that I find no time for anything but the animals. As this is still an early entry then allow me to employ anyone who finds these words to take them to my family, Anna and her daughter Tabitha of Glendale. As for the inn, I am back in the Kingdom of the Sword. I spent a short amount of time in the Free Kingdoms a few weeks back. Loggers were seeking fresh glades or forests to saw not plagued with elves of the king’s agents. We found some smaller glades just across the border, and we found trouble with it. Bandits or border guards, you would think they worked together how tight their “territories” border. It seems they watch for merchants, and our party’s wagons attracted both groups’ eyes. There was more fighting then I am want to find for a few trees. Felt like the Eld all over again. There was coin to be had in the end, but the Freemen made sure we knew that loggers would not be welcome so close to the border again. I don’t think their words would stop the lumberjacks who hired me. I declined more work with them for that reason. They reminded me of Hothgar, as if they had taken an oath to cut down every tree within a hundred leagues of a paying mill. Hothgar wouldn’t back down from any oath. Even after my father died, he kept an oath to see my family safe and my father’s death avenged. I left when we got the murderer, and, I admit, it was due to fear of t he jackalites. Hothgar was fearless. He never called me a coward, but I sensed those thoughts in his words. I swear the Ain are bred stubborn and raised to be immovable. Speaking of immovable, I am implored by some priest to assist in the removal of some long standing blemish on the countryside. Priests make it very difficult to say no to the needs of the All-Father, or any other request they make His name. So, I find myself in a country inn to meet some others willing to march into these dark barrows. I am leaving this journal with the wagon in case anything happens to me.
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