Six are the Walking Ways

Welcome to your campaign!
A blog for your campaign

Wondering how to get started? Here are a few tips:

1. Invite your players

Invite them with either their email address or their Obsidian Portal username.

2. Edit your home page

Make a few changes to the home page and give people an idea of what your campaign is about. That will let people know you’re serious and not just playing with the system.

3. Choose a theme

If you want to set a specific mood for your campaign, we have several backgrounds to choose from. Accentuate it by creating a top banner image.

4. Create some NPCs

Characters form the core of every campaign, so take a few minutes to list out the major NPCs in your campaign.

A quick tip: The “+” icon in the top right of every section is how to add a new item, whether it’s a new character or adventure log post, or anything else.

5. Write your first Adventure Log post

The adventure log is where you list the sessions and adventures your party has been on, but for now, we suggest doing a very light “story so far” post. Just give a brief overview of what the party has done up to this point. After each future session, create a new post detailing that night’s adventures.

One final tip: Don’t stress about making your Obsidian Portal campaign look perfect. Instead, just make it work for you and your group. If everyone is having fun, then you’re using Obsidian Portal exactly as it was designed, even if your adventure log isn’t always up to date or your characters don’t all have portrait pictures.

That’s it! The rest is up to your and your players.

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Journal 1

Gaelen, Son of Kylantha
Day 2 of Escaping Molag-Mar

All night I drove the siltstrider. While the other refugees slept, I drove and kept a vigil eye out for any danger or signs of being followed. But as the hours bled together, I grew hungry and tired. In the way of the Green Pact I ate the arm of the guard, my foe I had slain from the day before. I felt Y’ffre there, beside me, even in this strange land far from home. I think he was smiling at me. After I had eaten the flesh I tossed the bones over the side- the earth and animals below would have more use for them than I. Soon I began to drift and caught a few hours of sleep before sunrise when I was awoken.

The morning revealed a quag about us that stank of mud and rot. All around us giant bird-lizards soared through the sky. They were big enough to ride! But soon my wonder turned to worry- a few of them had spotted us perhaps as prey. The blue Argonian, Dreaded-Waters, drew her weapon and I followed suit. The group was tense and I was growing scared. As one great one swooped by I instinctively loosed an arrow but luckily in my tiredness I missed. Then, another perched on the crest of our siltstrider and trilled at us. I couldn’t help but trill back. I think we had a conversation until it screeched at me and flew away. I still wonder…has Y’ffre given me a gift with animals or has Hircine cursed me? As the day wore on it grew hotter and the wetlands’ stench rose, even up to the siltstrider. I had to retire under my tent to avoid the heat and passed the siltstrider to Fooyada, the Dunmer. When I awoke we were at a town, a small settlement built amidst huge mushrooms. It reminded me vaguely of home and living among the trees. Natesse and I sought shade under one of the caps and rested on some barrels, watching the town. A man approached named Veredin who told me he had traveled my homeland before. He also told me that he had some sujama and flin for sale. He let me taste some- it was awful stuff- and as he was explaining how it was made to me, he said that berries were involved. I had to stop, even though I wasn’t in Valenwood anymore I couldn’t bear to eat plant life. But I thought my traveling companions would want some so I bought some then headed back to the siltstrider where the green Argonian, Tyria waited. After a while the rest of the group came back and I made my peace offering. In a fair fight all of them would best me, this I know, but with this offering perhaps they wouldn’t want to fight and we could maybe be friends, dare I use the word. They all seemed to accept but Fooyada ran off as I made it…

As night fell, so did I to sleep. But I was woken shortly after by Dreaded-Waters who told me we were under attack from below and then dove into the muddy water. Fooyada and Natesse were hurriedly conversing to another below who yelled “I YIELD!” several times. I lowered them a rope so that they would climb up and was slightly startled to see another Dunmer, shaking with fright. I asked him a few questions but I don’t remember what we talked about. Before long I heard thrashing in the water and Fooyada cast a spell at something in the water. I saw a great beast, I don’t know how big struggling with Dreaded-Waters. I shot at the thing but it was dark and I think I only hit the fin. Natesse dropped the rope into the water in hopes that Dreaded-Waters would see it and climb up but she didn’t. She managed to climb out of the water and we all met up back on the uneasy siltstrider. Dreaded-Waters’ tail was bleeding and her legs too. She breathed about a shark and terror shot through me- hesitantly I moved the siltstrider along hoping and praying to Y’ffre that the shark would not follow. Another sleepless night awaits me.

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Journal 2

Gaelen, Son of Kylantha
An Unknown Number of Days

Tired, my world is hazy on the hems and spotty in the middle. My bones ache from sitting on the silt strider. My arm is stiff from guiding him or her. My body longs for the water below which will not quench my thirst. The sun burns.

I think I counted four sunrises, perhaps there was a fifth. But finally the dark one, Fooyada, released me of guiding. I showed her how to guide the simple beast- her dark skin felt the same as mine in my palm. I know there is elf inside her somewhere, we have similar ears and I have heard that her race and my race were one long, long, long ago. Her large hands were quite unskilled in guiding but proved useful in healing, for which we had done to help the wounded Argonian. I had never thought to see one of these scaley people and now that I have, I do not know a thing about them. But now, after four or five days of constant driving, I will sleep. May it be long and deep. I begin to wish for the shade of trees.

The smaller Argonian, Tyria who is kind, woke me. Too soon it felt and so I learned that we had docked at a makeshift camp of merchants. A man in red silk with strange tattoos on his face seemed to be our host. Fooyada seemed to trust the man. She had a made a deal with him; he gets us safely to the next city and we do him a favor once there. I never imagined myself being a mercenary, hired to do the bidding of another- then again I never thought my travels would lead me into the bonds of terrible slavery. We have also gotten rid of our captured foe. I know not his fate. We have left the silt strider behind and have taken boats up the shoals. Three is a lucky number. Again, on the dock of this boat do I sleep. Much longer this time.

In the evening the boats pulled onto the gritty beach of some island. The party, which included another Argonian, made fish and performed a sort of story. The Argonian played a part in which house duties were performed which were apparently funny to the crews. I have read much but have never found humor in housework. I explored the Red Man’s tent and found a cushion quite soft. He had many things which I would like to examine closer, in private. The large Argonian, the imposing one, called me forth from the tent and a strange beast lunged from the shadows. It had the head of an alligator and the feet of some bird. One clamped onto Tyria’s leg. Another went for Natesse, that formidable Bosmer. Fortunately, I carried with me a spare piece of cooked fish and was able to distract the thing with it. I threw the piece into the shadows and rid the party of the beast. Meanwhile, the other was killed. We returned to the boat to sleep.

In the morning, we set sail once again and passed the day as best as we could. No one has any books to read- I find myself lacking stimulus. Often I stare at the water rushing by and catch a reflection in the water. It seems as though these past two days have taken their toll on my face. Dark circles encase my eyes as I attempt to regain the strength I lost. We are coming upon a city soon and I will be glad to be stationary.

The city is wonderful. Y’ffre has blessed this strange land. There are no trees but the people have made their homes in the giant mushrooms which guard the skyline. One towers above the rest- a mushroom to rival the trees of Valenwood. Fooyada tells me that the people here grow their homes by guiding the plants into the shapes they take. This is a gift from Y’ffre. I shall find kinship in this city I believe. The sights of the port at dusk refill my hope that Y’ffre has not left me, nor I him. I am not abandoned.

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Journal 3

Gaelen, Son of Kylantha
Day 1 in Night Market

Dry land and stationary. The darkness and the tall mushrooms shaped into homes feel like home. I believe Y’ffre has led me to this place- his presence is here on this strange island. I cannot stop looking towards the towering mushroom which casts its shadow across the island, Foiyada tells me mages live there. I am drawn to it as if I were back home in the thick and tall woods of Valenwood. It fills my heart and excites me. Now, if only I had something to read.

I have searched through the whole of the night market and have found nothing. Not even a scroll with scribbled notes. What kind of people do not read or write? They have delicious ash hopper legs coated in spices unknown to my tongue however. In Valenwood we do not eat plants unless they are from distant lands or gathered responsibly by foreigners. My father spent much time at the trading post and there were a few times he sneaked spices from plants into the house without telling my mother. But these spices are nothing like those. So much flavor in a single bite. It makes the meat tender- I will be eating this again. I must find some gold to buy more.

In the way of gold, I find myself highly lacking it. While in the night market we were attacked by those ashen faced people, Dunmer. They posed no serious threat to us once the surprise of their ambush had worn off- they quickly stood down. But Tyria mentioned that one of them was dead and a guard had blamed her for the murder. They even knocked her unconscious and were dragging her to the jailhouse when we found her. The guard demanded something for her release after hearing what had happened to us. I was rash and jumped to an embarrassingly wrong conclusion. Nevertheless the group had enough money to pay him off and that is where my last three gold had gone. I fear I will be poor for my whole life. Perhaps I shall invoke the Rite of Theft next time we are in the market. At least then I will be able to buy my own portion of ash hopper legs.

I do not know what this town has done to me, or why I am feeling so bold lately but I fear that the group is beginning to be annoyed at me. Quiet, focused Gaelen is a much better fit on me than outspoken, offending annoyance. Yet, I feel responsible for the position the group is in- conflicting favors- and must find a way to resolve it. The khajiit wants his friends freed from the Moth Priest that we owe for passage to this place. In either case, we need an income of sorts. If ever I am going to get to Cyrodiil to see my brother, or trade in the bustling northern cities, or watch the sun rise in the deep dunes, and eventually make it back home to Valenwood, then first I must have money. Many times have others invoked the Rite against me and many times I have taken a book, as is my Rite as well. Perhaps I should find a Bosmer merchant to invoke from first, who knows what these grey mer think of our Rite.

As it is however, I have found myself something to read. The khajiit whom we are staying with has given me Cherim’s Heart of Anequina to read. I know very little of Khajiit history or culture which makes this book fascinating to me. Perhaps I will buy a tapestry should I happen upon one. The war I have heard of and know of. Indeed my mother had me learn about the war, from the Bosmeri side of course. This book was from the Khajiit side which I greatly admired. What courage both sides had.

A last note: the animals in the night market seem to be calling; not howling or barking or balking but speaking to me. I shall investigate this in the morning. Also, Natesse seems to be…different somehow. I shall also inquire about this.

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Journal 4

Gaelen, Son of Kylantha
Day 2 in Sadrith Mora

The Moth Priest required us to deliver his khajiit slaves to the head of the Mage’s Guild here in this place called “Sadrith Mora.” These were the same khajiit we were asked to rescue. The group split up- the argonians hung out in a lake and us mer set up the situation. After dropping off the khajiit to a very advanced argonian, we learned that the slaves were being transported out that night by way of magic portal. If we were to appease both sides, the jailbreak would have to be done that night. We obtained the writ of delivery from the argonian mage and set our argonians to work breaking them out. I’m not sure if they were wholly successful, perhaps a few of them escaped. In any case we shall know in the morning. If the khajiit is true to his word, we will at least be paid, if not compensated somehow.

Speaking of payment, as my concerns have been lately, the Moth Priest wished to pay us in a heavy gold bar. I think Foiyada talked him into something else, a bundle of some sort of pipe stuff? He said it was expensive and he knows more of the world than I. But it seems overall that I have managed to spend more money than make. Especially since the Gateway Inn happens to have jagga! What a fantastic surprise that was for me. It was of a far lesser quality than I deserve but it was a taste of home. I found myself reminiscing of home, not necessarily wanting to be there but remembering it fondly. I do enjoy my life abroad currently, even if we are being chased down by the slavers and playing two conflicting groups against each other. The world is dangerous, but no more so than slipping through branches.

I have found the most beautiful creature in the world. She is a Nordic Alpaca and I have named her after the moon- Jone. Her fur is soft, white on top fading first to a yellow then a light grey closer to the skin. She is a rare beast and I am not sure how we will find food but I’m sure we will. If we convinced the stable boy of my royalty, then surely we can convince others of less. The moment I saw her, our eyes connected and a primal chord was struck. I do not love her as my father loved my mother, but rather as I have been taught by Y’ffre. She is still cold to me but I believe that in time Jone and I will develop a close bond. She has been given to me as a gift of loyalty, I will not waste it.

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