The Diaries of Foncor

INTRODUCTION:

It was a typical night in the quiet, religious town of Goldenfields. The people of the town were cozying up in their beds, dreaming sweet dreams, with the exception of a few lonely men who were out at the pub after hours. The halfling Orin Yogilvy was one of these men, and he was polishing off his seventeenth beer of the night when he was overcome by an urgent need to urinate. He dragged himself off the pub stool and lumbered out the door towards the outhouse. In the cold outside air, something seemed off, and his worries were confirmed when a loud belch sounded throughout the town, followed a deep, grumbling voice pronouncing the word ‘oops!’ Orin looked to the horizon, where he saw the silhouettes of five obese hill giants, flanked by dozens of ogres and bugbears. Their efforts to launch a stealthy attack on the town had been ruined by the colossal burp. Orin yelled for help as loudly as his drowned vocal cords could, and the town arose from his slumber. Luckily for Goldenfields, two adventurers--an aasimar named Armicon and a dragonborn named Foncor--had recently arrived from Waterdeep. In the massive battle that ensued, they marshalled Goldenfields’ defenses and expelled the giants and their ilk from the town. But this attack on Goldenfields was only one of many instances of wayward giants terrorizing the small-folk of Faerun around that time. Foncor’s diaries provide a captivating account of how he and his companions traveled throughout Faerun, even into the secret citadels of the giants, to confront this deadly threat.

CHAPTER 1:

It was the day after the battle and everything was still scrambled. The population of Goldenfields for the most part refused to leave their homes, so everything appeared to be deserted. It looked like what you’d imagine a ghost town to look like, except it wasn’t a ghost town. The rest of the population was in the medical tent, either tending to the wounded or being one themselves. We seemed to be the only ones out and about. Armicon and I walked around the town, surveying the destruction. Many of the houses and orchards had been smashed by the grotesquely obese hill giants. Rolls of hill giant fat had literally flattened several of the less structurally sound buildings. The remaining houses were as inconsistently placed as trees after a tornado. It saddened me to see people’s dreams crushed by stupid mounds of flesh, and I sensed deep inside me that abnormalities like this would continue to happen in the following weeks and months. I turned to Armicon, who was apparently as deep in thought as I was. “Let’s see if we can help anyone in the medical tent, shall we? This is depressing me.” It was only after I had said that when I realized that it would be even more depressing in the tent. Oh, well. “I guess,” Armicon said, looking at his feet as if they were the most fascinating thing in Faerun. “Let’s see if anyone that helped us yesterday needs our help.” We walked over to the medical tent and pulled open the flaps. I knew what awaited me, but I was still taken aback. Scores of people lay in makeshift cots, covered in gauze and blood of various colors. It grossed me out to the point that I almost turned on my heels and abandoned Armicon, but I chose to take in the scene a bit more. Armicon and I walked down the rows of cots, looking for familiar faces. The amount of bandages on everyone caused an unforeseen amount of unfamiliarity. I would have never found anyone I recognized if a familiar voice hadn’t loudly groaned from two rows over. “Ay, Foncor, that you? Could you do me a solid and come over ‘ere for a quick sec?” I walked over to where the voice lay, with Armicon right behind me. It was Orin Yogilvy, the hung-over halfling that had sounded the alarm the night before. “What do you need me for?” “Well, I’ve been laying here for the past few hours in some SERIOUS pain, my friend. You see, I twisted my ankle a bit while I was, erm, defeating a hill giant.” This was obviously complete bull as Orin hadn’t left his post of hiding behind the bar counter the entire night. Orin continued, “Well anyways, I called you over here to ask for a favor, not to brag about the three hill giants I killed last night.” He paused for dramatic effect. “My sister, Lorn, lives a few towns over in Daggerford. I wrote her a letter this morning, telling her that I’m okay and for a few golden coins to pay for some, um, ankle medicine. Would you please do your best friend a favor and deliver this to her?” He picked up the letter from a small table next to his cot and handed it to me. I was taken aback, as I had presumed he would ask me to grab him something, not go on a days-long quest to deliver a pointless letter. But Orin had, after all, saved the entire town’s asses last night, so I decided to do it anyway. I shot Armicon a look. “Of course, Orin, anything for a friend. Do you need anything else?” Orin picked up a bottle of medicine and downed it in less than three seconds. “Ya know, Foncor, I think that’s about it. Thank you for doing this for ya old pal Orin.” He wiped away a tear and gave Armicon and me a friendly wave. He was obviously quite a bit high. I shot Armicon a look and we scurried out of the tent.