Valgod: a DnD Fan Fiction

art is from Swaggering Corsair by Scott Murphy

A half-elf and a minotaur walk into a tavern. This tavern is dark and dingy, as are most taverns in the port city of Dar Druev, but especially so on this part of the docks. And it's also filled mostly with out of work sailors... as are most taverns on the southern coast of the continent of Valgod. In fact, the dashing half-elf looks like he'd be more at home in a ship's rigging than on dry land, with a flowing mane of dark brown hair and a rapier at his side. The minotaur, on the other hand, cuts quite the figure of hired muscle, constantly throwing side-eyed glances at the patrons, never letting anyone get into a threatening position. For his part, the massive horned creature, with fur and skin so grey it looks almost blue in the right light, receives plenty of similar glances, as his undersized companion sidles up to the bar and orders two ales.

"Ah, now that's a foine ale you've got the-yeah," remarks a sturdy-looking high elf sitting on a nearby stool, in a heavy Earth-British accent. Next to him on the floor is a homemade sandwich board sign that reads Allen Goodfin's Knowledge Emporium! And underneath in smaller print, Where Learning is All In Good Fun... "Despite being known for its relatively cheap price, this particular batch is actually quite good quality, owing to its being made from a surplus of the finest wheat and barley from the southern valleys..."

As Allen Gootfin turns to the minotaur and goes on talking, the swashbuckler and his bodyguard give him a once-over. The elf is wearing polished scale mail, adorned with religious imagery, has a short sword and shield strapped to his side (both of Elven make, of course), but atop his head sits not a helm, but a tall pointed and brimmed hat best associated with Merlin, Gandalf, and other wizardly types. The two companions share a knowing glance.

"...the distillation process of grains from this district..." continues Allen, now addressing no one in particular.

"Thanks for the information, friend," the dashing rogue interrupts. "In fact, barkeep, kindly get one more ale for...mister Gootfin, is it? No, it's no trouble at all! My name is Sebastian Tweet, but my friends call me Seb. And this is my companion, Barrack."

"Of the Uda clan," pipes in the minotaur loudly, as he drains his ale in one shot. "Barkeep, another ale!"

"Why thank you very much, and pleased to make your aquaintances, Seb Tweet and Barrack Uda!" replies Allen gratefully. "And especially you, Mister Uda, as it's certainly rare to see a minotaur in these parts." Alan turns away from his new friends and addresses a random patron who has just approached the bar. "Originally from the land of Krynn, the minotaur are known as ferocious sea raiders, who rank as some of the most dangerous sailors in the world. But they are equally at home in the gladiatorial arenas of their homeland, which..."

"Excuse me, my friend," Sebastian breaks in once again. "But if you're truly in the knowledge trade, I might have some business for you." Seb reveals a ring that he has fastened on a chain around his neck. "You see, I came across this ring in my... travels, and I believe it holds great power. But I haven't been able to find out anything about it. Would you mind giving it a look?"

"Certainly, my lad," Alan eagerly begins inspecting the ring. "Hmm, it doesn't feel inherently magic. But I also sense that it could be used as a focus to channel great magical power. And... hang on a minute, what's THIS? It looks like there's a symbol carved onto the underside of the ring."

Elvish Rejuvenator by Winona Nelson

Allen holds the ring up for Seb and Barrack to see. "This symbol is associated with Desha, the Harmonist, one of the gods of the old pantheon of Valgod. These gods are now, of course, long forgotten, as they've all been missing since the destruction of the city of Old Stilgeras in The Tempest," Alan continues, this time turning to the barkeep, who has been doing his best to ignore these diatribes all day. "But the legend of Desha states that she was estranged and reclusive, and that she saw herself as the ultimate balancer. With full control over the forces of life and death, the dark deity held the greatest influence over the mortal world. She was a selfish and power-hungry figure, not at all like the patron deity of my clerical order, Ora Sen, the Skeptic, who champions thought and reason above all else..."

Sebastian only smiles and nods as Barrack continues pounding ales and Alan goes on pontificating long into the night.

===

As night falls over the harbor, three humanoids exit a tavern: a dashing half-elf, a gigantic minotaur, and a high elf carrying a homemade sandwich board under one arm.

"Well, Allen, it was a pleasure to meet you," says the half-elf, shaking Allen's free hand. "Thanks for the information about the ring, and good luck with your emporium business."

"You're very welcome, Sebastian," replies the full-elf. "And this knowledge DISPENSING business is only temporary. Once I drum up enough gold to pay for ship's fare, I'll be on my way in my quest to circumnavigate the continent of Valgod, so I can get back to more knowledge ACQUIRING..."

As Allen droned on, the minotaur perked up his ears and nudged Seb between the ribs.

"What is it, Barrack?" the rogue asks. As the minotaur points down the road, the three companions could make out the figure of an old man running towards them as he crested over the top of the hill. He was soaking wet, as if he just emerged from the sea, and he carried an ornate cylindrical container.

As the old man approaches, Barrack turns his six-foot, six-inch, 338 pound frame to block the path of the fugitive, who surprisingly continues running at full speed until he collapses into the arms of the minotaur. He thrusts the container into Barrack's hands and gasps, "Keep it safe!" before crumpling to the ground. At this point, the heads of five armed humans in pursuit also crest above the hill.

"Don't panic, old man, we'll help you out!" shouts Sebastian, frantically looking around, and then ushering the old man towards an unattended barrel on the side of the road. "Get in there and let me do the talking."

The man complies and crawls inside, as the water continues to drip off him and slowly fill the barrel. Sebastian plunks the lid on the barrel and sits on top of it as the five armed men reach him and slow to a halt.

"Nothing to see here, fellas," Sebastian calls out, doing his best to act casual.

"Hand over the old man, now!" shouts the clear leader of the group, wearing a finely crafted breastplate and armed with a distinctive bastard sword. He and the rest of his colleagues all wear green bandanas.

"Uh, I think he went that way," offers Sebastian, pointing down the street in the opposite direction. "If you keep running at top speed, you might just catch him."

"Are ye daft?" questions the leader. "I saw you stuff him in that barrel a minute ago! He's got something that belongs to us."

"Forgive me sir, but who is US?" asks Allen, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"You're telling me you don't know about the Glass Skulls?" laughed the leader, incredulously. "We OWN the streets of Dar'Druev, and anyone who gets in our way is gonna have to answer to the captain."

"Well, pardon me, but I'm not FROM Dar'Druev," answers Allen. "I make my home in Calphania, the High Elven city, far to the north. Our main exports are..."

"Shut up and give us that map!" yells the leader angrily, realizing that Barrack is still holding the old man's bundle.

Labyrinth Minotaur by Anson Maddocks

Barrack looks down at the bundle innocently, then back up to the leader. "Make me," the minotaur says.

The leader just chuckles and raises his sword. "Have at 'em, lads!"

Two of the thugs flank their leader and get ready with their spears, while the two in the back run up a nearby staircase and take sniping positions with their crossbows. The leader and the minotaur are already exchanging heavy blows, the former with his sword, the latter with his razor sharp horns, while the swashbuckler engages one of the lackeys in a dueling stance with his rapier.

Allen simply turns around and says, "As soon as I saw Barrack take that threatening stance in the middle of the road, I knew there was gonna be trouble. And I'm saying to myself, I just met these guys, I don't know what they're capable of, and I definitely don't want to get in over my head. But then there's this dripping wet fellow in the barrel, and I don't know WHAT to make of him..."

Meanwhile Sebastian runs his sword through his opponent's gut, just as Barrack is pierced by a crossbow bolt. This leaves him stunned enough that he couldn't dodge a tremendous hack from the leader's greatsword, briefly staggering the blue beast.

Allen's face suddenly turns grim with steely resolve. "But looking at the situation, I just didn't like the looks of these Glass Skull characters. So that's when I decided to let loose with a MAGIC MISS-eye-ull!" (The last syllables of which was of course the verbal component of the first level spell Magic Missile.)

In an awesome display of power, Alan whirls his hands in an arcane gesture, and sends FOUR magical bolts of energy at the leader, each shaped like a large library book. Each of the projectiles hit home, the last one tearing a hole in the warrior's throat.

Immediately the two snipers turn their attention to the magic user, allowing Barrack and Sebastian to double team the final spear lackey. However one crossbow bolt soars over Allen's head, while the other plinks harmlessly off his armor.

"Hey, you might hurt someone with that thing!" mocks Allen, looking derisively at the archer who came the closest. "I COMMAND you to DROP!"

Without a word, the archer lets their crossbow fall and drops to the ground. Their friend up on the ledge panics and runs, only to be met by the full fury of the Barrack's horns on the way down.

By the time the panicked archer had recovered their senses and reached for their bow, Sebastian had already deftly leapt up to the balcony and had his sword at their neck.

"Not so fast there," threatens the swashbuckler. "Why don’t you tell me what's so special about that map?"

"I-I-I don’t know," the archer replies, terrified. "Just sumthin the boss wanted, I swear!"

Sebastian looks them over and considers a bit. "Eh, I believe you," he concludes, running them through with his rapier. "Let’s find out what else that old wet dude knows."

But when Barrack opens the lid of the barrel, only water remains. The three adventurers look at each other, then at the map, then back down to the water.

"Anyone thirsty?" asks Sebastian with a coy smile.

Valgod: a Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition Adventure