I am Faithless, a wanderer, asking for questions that might not need an answer. Some day I’ll get to them. This is not that day, this is the day where I tell you about my adventures in the city of Plann.

The four of us were enjoying refreshing brews after a long journey. Me, a spellcaster who bend storms to the will of my whip; Sandridge, a ranger skilled both with the sword and bow; Inanna Sher, an elegant and mysterious wizard; and Galligan, a sorcerer who could control shadows itself. Our casual conversation was interrupted when a message boy delivered a note to us. Our party was required at Cassra Brandywine’s shop for an urgent matter.

We walked through both the muddy streets outside the tavern to the more busy and paved district, heart to the merchants and the keen minds who run the city. There we met Mrs. Cassra Brandywine, an old and socially awkward halfling. Through a cryptic conversation, led mostly by Inanna and Sandridge, we discovered that three books had been stolen from three very important people in the city. While the books seemed mundane, we felt that there was more into the matter than what Mrs. Brandywine was willing to share. Curiosity caught us.

We spent the day talking and searching through the city. Particularly, we spoke to the curators who had their books stolen, Agin Lamarck, a human noble; Aleyd Burral, a retired fighter; and Aya Glenmiir, an elven wizard, and while we could not find any traces or leads that could point us to the whereabouts of the thief, our investigation had a sudden change of events.

When heading back to Brandywine place when a shady figure approached us and invited the party into an alley. It was an obvious trap, but the eagerness to find more about the thief led us to follow the strange figure. In the alley, assassins ambushed us. An urgent and dramatic clash of swords and sorcery erupted. As quickly as it started, it had ended. Our foes were dead lying on the ground. In one of their pockets, a note asking them to tie loose ends.

Interestingly, the note had the same blue tint that we saw on Brandywine’s shop, and the four of us thought that the little halfling hired us as a scapegoat. Well, it was time to get some answers.

We confronted the little halfling who was as threatening as her small height. She understood our frustration and led us to the caretaker of Mantor’s library where, perhaps, we could find more information.

The Library smelled of dust, wax, and mystery. How many tales of tyrants and heroes were there slumbering in the towering shelves holding them? Little we would know. We spoke with the caretaker who quickly directed us to the library’s basement. It seemed that one of the scribers there would know more about the books. Brandywine was our guide, and when we head towards the basement, fire and chaos erupted. An explosion set the library on fire. The old wood pillars that held the library together started to crumble, yet Sandridge noticed a shadow figure sliding amidst the chaos. That was our thief!

We pursued her through the library’s basement into the sewers. Damn, she was fast! At some moment, we thought that we lost track of our nemesis, and we stopped to listen and focus. The air was humid, we could hear the sewage water running, I looked into the shadows cast by our torches. For a split second, I saw more than my own shadow, had I ever had two shadows?

The undead shadows erupted from our own. The creatures were filled with rage and no other desire than to strip us from our mortal souls. Their very touch weakened us and drained our strength. Our weapons could barely do any harm to these undead, and even Galligan’s spells were not effective. I was swarmed by them and on the verge of death when a barrage of magic missiles cast by Inanna pierced through the creature’s resistance. If not for our wizard companion, we could have met death.

The runaway thief gained precious minutes to her advantage as we fought the undead. We resumed our pursue and meet her after following an almost cold trail that led us to the marshes surrounding Plann.

The thief stole the books for a black dragon who was assisting a cult planning to revive Tyranthraxus, a malign entity from times of old. Reasoning against a creature whose ego was as sharp as its teeth and claws was not an option. We had to fight!

The creature inflated its chest, getting ready to storm us with its breath, raining acid and death. Sandridge and I were faster and took cover while our spellcaster companions braced for the worst. The creature mocked our insignificance and flew by, cautiously deciding which one of us would be its next target.

Inanna cast a spell to hold the thief in place. Sandridge’s arrows pierced through the dragon’s scale and Galligan’s shadow sorcery also afflicted the creature. The dragon dove ready to tear us apart only to meet its own death by yet another barrage of magic missiles cast by Inanna. What a battle! I still get chills just writing about it.

At the end of the day, we caught our thief, recovered the missing books and slew a dragon. Guess that is more than enough for bards and troubadours to entertain the city-folk.

Details were omitted and/or modified, so I don’t spoil much of an official Adventures League game. I am not a native speaker and this is a small exercise to improve my writing. Please be kind.