Our tale takes place in the ruined city of Neverwinter, a nexus of brave adventurers hoping to forge their destiny within the crumbled and apocalyptic shell of a once grand city.


Session 3: Fifty Shades of Green

Our adventure starts in the Bawdy Boar, a rough and tumble tavern filled with a motley assortment of patrons including Helg Firebeard– it’s purveyor.  Our adventures noticed that some new faces found their way to the inn. The Bawdy Boar is known for it’s Shield Wall, a wall within the tavern that serves as a message board filled with potential work for would-be adventurers and cryptic messages between said adventurers.

On with the story…

Today’s cast of Neverwinter protagonists include…

  • Kaiser Hemlocke (Mike M): human | ranger1
  • Baron Silas Hightower (John): half orc | fighter2
  • Horace The Bold (Mike A): half elf | peddler
  • Hildegarde Stonewall (Sharon): dwarven | rogue2
  • Marcus Valorious (Nick): human | fighter1
  • “Chowder” (Joe): human | fighter1
  • Bero Torunn (Mike S): dwarf | cleric1
View Character Profiles

“Seeing Red at Fort Greenskin”

Our story, like many told before, starts at an inn.  This particular inn, the Bawdy Boar, resides in Neverwinter.  Our all star cast of adventurers checks the shield wall for a mission befitting their special skills.  Our heroes narrowed their choices between two missions with a roll of the dice to determine their fate.  The dice turned and whirled on the table, making it’s way through a gauntlet of minis, sweedish fish, and sodas cans; it lands on “3”, revealing our destined task at hand:  Defend Fort Greenskin on behalf of Captain Horsestead and the Lord Protector.

We report to the barracks to receive our official orders, scribe our marks, and meet our guide.  The sound of steel-on-steel echos through the barracks while the Neverwinter soldiers hone their sword skills.  The captain at the barracks informs us that we are to report to Captain Androse at Fort Greenskin.  After some talk with Captain Horsestead, a wagon rolls into the courtyard.  The wagon, steered by one Grey Gandle, was set to deliver supplies to the fort and serve as escort for our seven brave souls.  Our Seven Samurai if you wish.

On the journey to the fort, our guide informs us of the situation.  Fort Greenskin is two days away in the mountainous wild.  The fort is a stubborn stronghold in a perilous land surrounded with at least four Orcish tribes who’s blood feuds were often quelled at the partisanship of destroying Fort Greenskin and it’s pink inhabitants.  The ranger Hemlocke, who’s past was saturated with orcish raids, takes notice of some orcish carvings along the way.  The most prevalent of these marks were scratched by the Blood Claw Tribe.  A blood thirsty tribe led by a verge large and very dangerous orc called King Tharzogg Gorehand the Thrice-SlainBloody hell!  As told, the journey took two days with signs of orcs strewn throughout the path and it’s immediate surroundings.  Given the region’s dangerous inhabits – the naming of  “Fort Greenskin” now made sense.

Along the way we meet up with Baron Silas and his trusty, “righteous” sidekick Jerrot of Helm.  The morning of day three reveals the fort-  a welcome site for our adventurers’ travel weary feet.  Or so we thought…


Upon closer inspection it is evident that the fort is in shambles.  Rooks and ramparts were in dire need of masons, walls completely missing in other areas but the most frightening observation was the quiet.  A fort should have the sounds of soldiers running about their duties…  Only one fucking wall sentry to keep watch over an entire fort?!  This is a bloody suicide mission!

We enter the fort’s gate to be met with a near empty courtyard and a very porous fort structure.  With the shock of the situation setting in, our adventurers meet Sergeant Felboz and his pathetic looking troops.  He informs our party that the captain of Fort Greenskin meant to attack the orcs head-on, leaving minimal defenses at the fort.  He also informed us that they left on their crusade three days ago- with nigh a word since.  In addition, the fort was inhabited by a nephew and niece of the Lord Protector of Neverwinter and their protection was paramount to us receiving our due reward (50 GP and a 5GP bounty per enemy).  Again the fort was in shambles and it’s patrons were apathetic in it’s upkeep- not good.

Fort Repairs & Defensive Measures

Our heroes quickly take charge to fortify the broken walls of Fort Greenskin, enlisting a slough of NPCs located in the fort.  Given our immediate supplies we decide to fix the broken Southern wall, ready fire arrows, repair murder holes, wet the buildings to prevent fires, and take it upon ourselves to repair the two siege weapons (ballista and catapult).  Bero the Dwarf of Imense Importance mends some some damaged armor.

Free platemail, scale mail, leathers, and an assortment of weapons and magic potions- score!  We also meet a captured orcish female, Threega, locked away in the dungeon.  She reveals herself as a former wife of Orcish Chief Tharzogg, like most ex-wives, she is now wanting his head on a pike.  She provides little information, but Silas’s heart skips a beat.

Chowder, the maniacal cleaver wielding cook turned fighter yells “BAM” with a finishing garnish, seizing the opportunity to cook a delightful meal while we prepare the defenses.

Hemlocke and Chowder discuss how many orcs it would take to breech the fort’s recently repaired wall.  “I guess we’ll find out” says Hemlocke to the cleaver wielding Chowder.


“Wait wait!  Did you say Hundreds of orcs..?”

Day four arrives and fortifications are starting to look respectable.  A lone rider, slumped across his saddle, arrives from the west and is let through the gate.  He collapses in a heap. Upon further investigation, the bloodied rider is missing half an arm.  His dying breaths reveal the orcs are on their way and that the crusading Greenskin forces were smashed when they met the orcish cadre’.

Upon the soldier’s death, our casts of adventurers exchanged wary looks while a noise could be heard in the distance.  Thum…  Thum…  Our heroes climb the walls.  Thum…  Thum.. The sound drums on- getting louder with each step.  Thum..  Thum..  Audible gasps were heard from the NPCs as we crested the fort wall.  Thum!  Thum!

Eyesight breaks over the horizon of the fort wall, revealing a rolling mass of green skin and wicked spikes.  FISTS OF ORCS!


Horace the Bold, our newest companion- a peddler of sorts, staggers back at the sight of the orcs.  HUNDREDS OF ORCS!!!

“THUM THUM” rings in Horace’s ears.  Was it these orcish dulcimers or the peddler’s heart making this thundering noise.  Given the look on our virgin companion’s face- my guess is it was probably a little of each…  But he was up for the task.

A blood-thirsty howling emits from the orcish camp.  Hundreds of orcs, screaming for “man flesh”.  Morales start to wane but we rally the NPCs to stand fast.  As the frightening orcish screams crescendo into a booming yell, a force of 25-30 crazed orcs charge the fort.  “STAND FAST MEN!”  Our heroes yell, providing just enough courage to keep our new companions on the wall.

The charging orcs get within range.  “LOOSE!” demands grizzled veteran, Marcus Valorious– heavy crossbow in HAND (haha- couldn’t resist :p sorry Nick).  Flaming arrows fly from bows and crossbows- peppering the charging orcs with arrows and bolts alike.  The charging orcs are quickly routed with none reaching within 10 feet of the fort.  Orcish howls of fear and an inevitable death follow for the orcish bodies strewn about the field.


The orcs then send a messenger.  He demands we leave the fort or die attempting to protect it. Silas and the messenger bark Orc to each other- discussing the demands of their “treaty”.  The “thwrip” of a bowstring could be heard just as the first arrow pierces the orc messenger’s throat.  “Thwip” sounds again as another arrow strikes the orc’s body.  The orc falls backwards- void of life before his head hits the ground.  Adventurer’s are stunning to see Hemlocke, lowering his bow.

The ranger begins screaming orcish obscenities at the mass of green skin- eyes wetting with rage.  Silas’s orcish ears hear “Does anyone else want to negotiate!” 

“No deal” Hemlocke mutters with a sheepish grin.

Hootie Hoo!

Orcish screams of outrage could be heard from the southeastern direction, soon followed by a series of orders given with loud, orcish grunts and waving torches.  “They have us flanked ” revealed Fandril- one of the fort’s protectors.  His eyes wide with fear.  Almost bird-like roars could be heard from the Southeast.  Fandril’s body flinched with each guttural screech coming from the southeasterly direction.  This was the destroyed section of wall that was fortified by our adventurers.  Our heroes run to see what could be making such a loud and aggressive noise.  Baron, frees Orcish Threega from her cell in the dungeon and their relationship… … “develops”  …  yes- develops…  That’s the word I’ll use. <3  “An abomination of heresy” exclaims Jerrot.

“They have owlbears” screams one of our adventurers.  “Man the wall!”

The owlbears lurch forward, accelerating with nearly unbelievable speed.  “Give them hell boys!” barks Marcus.  A melody of bowstrings could be heard, as arrows let loose.  His cloak gives a flicker as an arrow flies by.

Arrow after arrow pierce the owlbears’ thick and feathered hides.  One falls mid-stride while the other starts to crest the makeshift wall built by our heroes.  A loud “TWACK” of the catapult could be heard.  It’s projectile hitting the advancing owlbear square in it’s razor-sharp, beaked face.  The violent explosion of blood gives way to a series of feathers falling like snow around our heroes.  Hildegarde at the the controls of the catapult, gives a confident nod to her companions and disappears into the catapult’s shadow.  What a hoot.  whna wha :p


“Clangeddin will smite you all” proclaims the Dwarvish Battle Cleric Bero, with battle axe raised to the sky.  A stoic site with his thick, dwarvish beard blowing in the ashes.

The siege warfare continues with both sides trading volleys of catapult munitions.  We had some magical ammo for the ballista and catapult.  Our heroes take out all but two orcish catapults, but lose their single ballista and single catapult in the exchange.

Some adventurers want to flee but Silas and his half-orcish bravado rally some of the forces for a charge in an attempt to take out their remaining catapults.  Five more step forward.  Silas quickly downs a potion of goldskin.  The six brave souls raise their blades to the heavens and charge toward the orsish horde with Bero, Jerrot, and a couple others succumbing to an onslaught of orcish arrows.  Silas and Hildegarde, the most experienced (and deadly) of our party, make their way into the sea of orcs.  Arrows be damned!  They lob potions of cloudkill (provided in the supplies at the fort) into the orcs and end up dismantling the orcs’ last two catapults.  They make a hasty retreat and ride back to the safety of the fort- collecting a now healed Bero of Clangeddin and bloodied Jerrot of Helm on their way.  Holy shit!  They actually survived AND took out the orc’s siege weapons AND killed an ogre.  Well done!  I thought y’all were toast.

The rest of the day passes with the orcs having lost a hundred+ of their number.  But the fort lost it’s share as well.  Fallen members included Grey Grandle (goodnight sweet prince), Fandril, Beldonn, Zanthros, Telber, Dorabel of Lathander, and Jaime Silversword. <enter Taps>

One last Orcish rally.

Night falls to be met with primal, orcish yells from Tharzogg- the great Orcish Chief of the now decimated Bloodclaw Tribe.  He amasses a force of about 30 orcs to charge Fort Greenskin one last time.

“They have an ogre…” the dwarves grunt in baritone unison.


The orcs press forward.  Again, they are met with arrow volleys, noxious fumes from cloudkill potions, and the sky begins to rain Thayvian Fire on the orcish horde.  The adventurers pick off orc after orc.  The Ogre swings his club hitting our last exploding catapult munition.  A deafening report is accompanied with and equally impressive fireball- taking out more orcs.

More arrows fire and the “Great” Orcish Chief Tharzogg (turned pin cushion), collapses with a thud…

Orcs scream in despair at the site of their once great chief’s lifeless husk.  They retreat.  Our adventurers scream with joyous cries of victory.

The nephew of the Great Lord Protector finally exits his safe-hold and proclaims his admiration to our Protagonists of Neverwinter.  Our adventurers receive their much earned pay and exit back to safety of Neverwinter.

On the way back…

Hemlocke walks over to Chowder and laughs.  “More than 128 Chowder…  It apparently takes more than 128 orcs to breech a fort”

The group laughs and the magnificent seven ride home into the sunset.


Great job adventurers!

Treasure procured

  • Potions of False Life: Hemlocke, Chowder, ???x2
  • Potions of Healing: Hemlocke, Chowder, Horace, Marcus, ???- not sure who used theirs and who still has their potion
  • Vial of Thayvian Fire: Everyone gets at least one?
  • Scroll of Raise Dead: Bero
  • Scroll of Web: ???
  • Gold Reward: about 330 EACH, Mwuhahahahaha
  • XP: about 1k each 😉
  • Armor & Weapons: Everyone

i'm rich bitch!

Vanquished Foes

  • 2 Owlbears
  • 2 Ogres
  • BloodClaw Orcish Chief Tharzog Gorehand the Thrice Fourth-Slain
  • 128 ORCS!!!!  yes you read that correctly

(red text indicates a need for more description- help me out- thanks & mea culpa.  Also note that I take some lingual liberties & embellish a bit to fit my character’s version of the story )