Introduction: If you’ve read any of the Vogh Ptolus Campaign then you’re familiar with some of mine, and my good friend’s (and player’s) writing. The Vogh Ptolus Campaign has some great characters, but in order to accomplish everything we wanted to, we felt more characters were needed. It would seem odd for the fate of Ptolus to rest entirely on Vogh’s, Talin’s and Belie’s (he’s coming in chapter 3!) hands. Thus, these three new characters were born and thrust into the action. I hope you enjoy reading these as much as we enjoyed writing/playing them!

Bharash, the Dragonborn fighter and Deacon Havenhold the elf arcanist walked with their nearly-blind friend Julia Graymantle. She stuck near her two friends as her cloudy vision prevented her from seeing anything more than half a dozen paces. Anything beyond that was a horrible blur.

The trio had just left the Games House, having enjoyed watching a Golem fight in person.

Two interesting magic-related sporting events were held in the large, round building on Dweomer Street (a.k.a Vock Row) known as the Games House. The first was called simply “the Mage Game,” which involved two teams attempting to score points by putting a frictionless ball into the opposing goal, using either physical or magical skill. Most players used fly spells, although expeditious retreat and true strike got heavy use as well.

The other, newer, event was the golem fights. Just as it sounds, this diversion involved magical constructs crafted by local mages battling each other for sport. The Inverted Pyramid sponsored both events. While anyone could attend either event in person, when a game was in session the Games House becomes one of the most heavily scried places in the city.

Deacon had insisted they watch today’s game in person. The two constructs battling were incredibly interesting to watch in action. One looked like an empty suit of armor lacking a head and helm, while the other seemed to be smooth stone. Everyone stayed on their feet for the titillating match. In a shocking upset, Hyarrofre Vanguard the ifrit’s armor-golem defeated the expected winner, Phenemre’s stone creation. Deacon had been following Hyarrofre’s career for a while and he was in a great mood after the ifrit proved victorious over the stodgy old elf.

Tess’ Cauldron being right next door to the Games House was an added bonus for their trip as Deacon also needed to gather some spell components. They walked down Vock Row past several amazing dwellings. The residential area surrounding Vock Row in the northeast part of Oldtown was called by most “Dweomer Street”, so named because it was the most fashionable area in town for arcanists to live.

The street had become host to a number of towers and rather large homes, many prominently bearing the unique arcane mark that represent each inhabitant as surely as a coat of arms represents a noble house. Most homes were converted to house a laboratory or workshop as well as living quarters. Not surprisingly, Dweomer Street also hosted a number of shops that sell spell components, alchemical substances, laboratory equipment and specialized tools, raw materials for magic item creation, and other unique items that a wizard or sorcerer might need. There was even a magefocused bar and eatery called the Pointy Hat, so named because of the habit (long out of fashion) of old-school wizards to wear tall, pointed hats with moons and stars on them.

Together the group chatted and stepped out onto Emperor’s Road to take them back down to Midtown. The streets were busy. All sorts of people from different walks of life bustled about on their own business.

As Ptolus was a fairly cosmopolitan city, its streets boasted all races and even the occasional surprise like a centaur, some lizardfolk (usually keeping a low profile), or creatures even more exotic.

Most people moved about on foot. A few rode on horseback or in carriages, but nary a day passed when a bystander didn’t see a knight mounted atop a hippogriff, a wizard with a pseudodragon perched on her shoulder, a cleric accompanied by a living statue made of clay, or something equally strange or frightening.

Still, when the sounds of screams and commotion came to the group’s ears, it clearly alarmed everyone around. Rising over a rooftop, a gout of smoke billowed up.

Immediately nearby voices begin yelling, “fire!” But the shouts of alarm were cut off as locals scattered in wide-eyed horror. Moments later a screaming half-orc tore into view, engulfed in flame. Somehow, the flames do not actually seem to be burning him. However, when he grabbed hold of a burly swordswoman near him in what looked like desperation, the flames did scorched her—badly.