# Of Sound Mind the Halfling Way



## the Jester

Don't hate me.

I'm starting _yet another_ story hour.

Wait, wait- let me explain- this is for a very good reason.  To wit, since we switched to 3.5 the group decided they wanted to try it at first level, and then they decided to play a theme party- "halflings" being the theme- and so that's what we've been playing lately.  Prolly one or two more sessions til we switch back to the high-level group for a few games; we'll likely do a lot of back and forthing.

So don't worry, I'm going to update the other threads all soon, and really truly start this one off; and for now, I'm just going to lay down (yet another) teaser before we get started here.

So here we go...


----------



## the Jester

*Prologue: the Plains of Strogass*

For a million years the sun has blasted its light from the sky every day, revolving around the island of Forinthia and sinking into the sea at night.  Forinthia, of course, is home to the worship of the Light, Galador, the Sun God.  And far from her is a huge continent called Strogass, home of the Dark Empire that serves Bleak, the light-snuffing opposite to Galador.

For hundreds of years one man held the chaos and evil that was the Dark Empire together through force of arms.  All who opposed him died terribly, made examples for the education of his people.  He warred against Forinthia time and time again, sent a constant stream of subversives, spies and malcontents to undermine the Galadorian faith, and spent considerable resources fighting for the glory of the Black Sun.  

Then, a couple of years ago, the Dark Emperor vanished- died, is likely- and everything fell apart. 

The Forinthians don't know it yet, and their own Emperor has also vanished, so perhaps there's some sort of parallelism involved in current events.  

Or, maybe, the times they are a-changin'.



Northern Strogass has many bands of halflings, loosely related, that travel the plains and wander the rolling hillocks.  Every year, there's an annual week-long gathering of all the bands, who meet to discuss matters of import to the halfling nation.  It takes several weeks for all the folk to gather, and usually a few of the more politically-minded groups stay at the site of the gathering for a month or more after it's all over.  For the week before the gathering starts the first tribe present rings the gathering bell each morning at dawn to call the scattered kinfolk from far across the plains.

Unfortunately, over the last year the gathering bell was struck by lightning and cracked.

Thus it is that our heroes are dispatched to a town called Bellhold, thence to commission and return with a bell....


_*Next Time:*_ We'll introduce our characters as they make their journey to town!


----------



## Piratecat

Hey, I know that place!


----------



## paulewaug

Nice start jester!
it's fun to get in on the beggining of a new story hour! Woo HOO!


----------



## the Jester

*Our Heroes*

As they set off from the grassy knoll where the halfling gathering will be centered, our heroes might look an odd bunch.  This is because, in addition to the halflings, there are a few... oddities.

Eight years ago, in the depths of a terrible winter, a human child, screaming, dashed into a barn.  He was fleeing a pack of hungry wolves that had just torn his family limb from limb.  He was backed into a corner when salvation came in the unlikely form of a halfling party that rescued and adopted the lad.  Now a young man, he's kept his stature quite short for a human, but at 5'2" he still looms over his adoptive kinfolk.

Along with the halflings are a number of dogs, too.  But here we're using the term loosely; one of them is a kobold who was also adopted into the halfling clan as a waif after his kin had been slain by the halflings in redemption for their previous depradations.  Federico acts the clown and is well-loved by the clan, much as a good dog is sometimes even better-loved in his way than a foul relative.  One of the other 'dogs' is actually a wolf bitch, Misha.  She's Trinia's companion and there's a bond between them that's stronger even than that between most married couples.

As they walk through the fields of Strogass, they make a colorful picture.  Two of them, 'Airhead' Ed and Coco, are fraternal twins.  Ed, despite the name, is a hot halfling chick; she's got blonde hair in a long ponytail and blue eyes.  She stays reasonably fit, but like any halfling she likes to have her second breakfast.  And elevensies.  And supper, dinner, tea time, snackies, and so forth.  So she's a little plump.  She wears purple and yellow stripes.  Coco, her twin brother, is also striking; but he's dressed in leather unbuttoned at the top to show off his chest hair.   

The halfling clans tend to trade members often to help cement the ties between all of them, so there's also a stout with the group.  Everyone calls him Sandy (his name's actually Thenal Sandybanks, of the Sandybanks clan down on the Upper Lofta.  Sandy's immaculate and sort of academic; he's good at talking people into things. 

Trinia- Misha the wolf's friend- is exotic-looking, with vivid purple eyes, and sometimes a little out there compared to most halflings.  She's always talking to animals and trees and stuff.  Then again, she seems to have certain 'powers' granted by nature.  For instance, her friendship with the wolf.  But more than just that- she can actually cast spells sometimes.  

And of course there's Dogfish, a wild halfling.  He was adopted into the clan as a youth and has had a horrible temper ever since.  Sometimes it's like he can't even see straight when he gets really mad.  

It's a two-day walk to Bellhold, and our heroes enjoy the spring weather.  It's warming up, so though the nights have been chilly lately the days are pleasant enough.  And the walking- across rolling hills that extend for hundreds of miles to the north- is easy enough, with plenty of proper mealtime breaks.  

In the evening, as the puffy clouds in the sky turn pink, Thelonius once again tells the tale of his adoption into the clan, and- as always- Ed cries.  The entire group is moved as the human finishes up, "...and ever since, I've done my best to help protect the clan from the big folk.  To my shame, I have discovered that halflings' worst enemy, more often than not- is human."

They drift sleepily through the night, being sure to set watches (though Ed goes to sleep on hers and until Trinia wakes groggily in the middle of the early morning they are unguarded).  An orange sunrise, a cheerily-cooked breakfast of bacon and eggs, and they set off again, the dog doing tricks.

_*Next Time:*_ Now that our heroes have been introduced, let's see how they do with their first random encounter!


...so, in game terms, our party (at this point) consists of:
Coco the pimp (bard 1)
Thelonius (human ranger 1, favored enemy humans)
Trinia (druid 1)
Airhead Ed (rogue 1)
Sandy (rogue 1)
Federico (kobold bard 1)
Dogfish (barbarian 1)

Except where noted, everyone's a halfling, though Dogfish is of the wild halfling subrace, Coco and Ed are tallfellows (different in Cydra than in the MM), and Sandy is a stout.  So there is some racial variance, after a fashion.

We'll get to Bellhold and the actual module soon...


----------



## the Jester

*To Bellhold*

Strogass is a dangerous place, make no mistake about it.  

Even now, with the Dark Emperor presumably dead- in fact, _especially_ now.  For now, with no authority to enforce the peace, the evil and chaotic forces that have overrun this continent for centuries have gone wild.  Ravening humanoids roam the plains, evil man travel the countryside 'taxing' whoever they find, foul necromancers kidnap victims for their experiments.  Nowhere is there anyone to turn to.

A dangerous place indeed, muses Thelonious.  He keeps casting his eyes around, watching carefully as his small charges follow along behind him.  Federico, the kobold, capers wildly around them, bounding through the tall grass like a rabbit.  By now it's afternoon and the shadows are beginning to lengthen; they should find Bellhold in another two or three hours, assuming they're in the right spot and haven't gotten lost.  

As our heroes amble along, crossing a small creek (no wider than the length of Thelonious' forearm and less than 6" deep), there's a sudden flurry of movement, and from beneath a tangle of brush along the edge of the creek emerge a quartet of centipedes nearly as long as the halflings themselves!  Ed screams in fear and starts crying as the skittering creatures crawl in, one of them biting Trinia's calve.  The purple-eyed druidess gives a yell, feeling an ominous itch start in her leg around the wound.  She whips her scimitar from its sheath even as her wolf friend, Misha, growls, barks and bites, snapping the centipede up and shaking it violently, killing it.

Thelonious springs to guard Coco, drawing his axe and swooshing it through the air above one of the centipedes.  "Get back, bug!" he cries.  "Leave my halfling friends alone!!"

A series of blows from Airhead Ed (still crying), Misha and Coco the (would-be) pimp slay the rest of the monstrous centipedes before they can bite anyone else, and then the group clusters around Trinia while she applies poultices to her injured leg and tries to squeeze as much of the poison as she can from it.  The group then continues along towards Bellhold, Ed walking with a limp and a stick.  In this fashion they come to a dirt path that heads in their direction; and, following it, they soon find an amusing scene.

Along the road there are occasional farms, and as they come to within about one hundred yards of one of them, the halflings and their allies are amused to see a human farmer cussing in frustration as he tries to catch a pair of garen*.  They will let him almost get to him, but not quite; as soon as he's almost on top of them, they gallop away a few dozen feet, then stop and look back placidly at him.

"Garen!" exclaims Trinia.  "Maybe we can help him out."

They move forward and the man turns, frustration evident on his face.  "Eh?  Hello there!" he calls to them, wiping sweat from his brow.  He smiles genuinely, though the frustration is still there as well.

"How's it going?" Ed asks.  

"Not so well," the human admits.  "My cursed garen got out, and they won't let me get 'em back in!  Ooh, it's almost like they're playin' with me!"

"Let me try," Trinia says.  She takes the halters the farmer has been holding and starts moving gently towards the garen, counting on her natural affinity with animals to win the day.  Softly clucking her tongue at the equines, she manages to slip the halter over the first one's head, but after slowly following the other along a zig-zagging path all over the area for about fifteen minutes she has to concede defeat.  

"I'll talk to it**," Coco offers, and does so.  The two huff and whinney back and forth for a minute, during which time the garen tells Coco that it hates the farmer but not much else.  Coco shrugs to himself; the farmer- by now introduced as Othic- seems nice enough to him.

Thelonious and Trinia work together, trying to convince, trick or trap the other garen into the harness, and after another ten minutes they finally succeed.  By now it's about the fourth hour of the afternoon, and Bellhold is only about a half mile away.  Othic thanks the group profusely and offers to have them over for dinner in a couple of hours.  They gratefully accept but tell him they have business to attend to first; they do, after all, have a bell to commission.  That's got to come first; they have twelve days to get it back on time.

So our heroes venture into town, telling Othic they'll be back for dinner soon.  After all, they are halflings....


*Cydra has few horses.  Garen are one of the main mount species, looking like zebras, but instead of black and white each is two colors of green, yellow and brown.

**Cydran tallfellows, among other things, can _speak with equines_ much like a gnome can _speak with small burrowing mammals._


_*Next Time:*_ Our halfling heroes enter Bellhold proper and discover that something weird's going on!  And boy is there!


----------



## Lela

Ooo, a new story to read.  And I'm in on the ground floor too.  Yayness.

 I knew it was a good idea to go trolling for a new story fix.  And I'm not disapointed.

 Let the Halflings rule!


----------



## the Jester

*Into Bellhold*

Our heroes find Bellhold to be a pleasant place; it's a small town, with a predominantly human but mixed-race population.  Within the center of town is a large plaza, named by a sign Wyrmcall Plaza.  Off of that is a tall bell tower.  Around the plaza are an array of shops and a couple of churches.  Of most immediate interest to our heroes is a bar.

The Bell & Clapper, as it's called, is reasonably full but the patrons seem generally somewhat subdued.  The halflings and there adoptive brethren (and dog) manage to acquire a table and gain a barmaid's attention in order to procure a proper tea time, with food and drink in proper proportions.  

The cute Airhead Ed and Coco start circulating, asking the locals where to find a bellmaker, and quickly receive directions; but it's too late in the day to talk to them by now.  However, they also receive a few more juicy tidbits of local gossip.

"Everyone here's been having nightmares for the last few days," Coco informs them.

"And did you know," Ed breathlessly tells the others, "that this town used to be run by a _dragon??_"

"I'd gathered," Thelonious says, gesturing.  On the walls are hung what appear to be a number of trophies- a talon as long as a human's arm, a portrait of an adventuring party, weapons, a book and other items.  Sipping his drink, he says, "I'll ask the proprietor if he knows more."

The proprietor turns out to be Tokket, a half-elf man of middle age and garrulous nature.  When queried, he answers brightly, "Sure I'll tell you about it!"

Pointing at the painting, he says, "Those were the adventurers who killed the dragon Copperdeath.  He was a mean, evil beast, that Copperdeath.  Fifty years ago next summer this was- anyhow, he'd enslaved the townsfolk and forced them to work his copper mines.  Until they came along and slew him, that is- those adventurers."  He walks proudly to the painting.  "This one here, Alissa- she was my mother.  After she retired she set up shop here in Bellhold, built the Bell & Clapper here, and lived the rest of her life comfortably.  Now it's passed on down to me."

A little more friendly conversation, and Tokket mentions that the book on the wall is the diary of one of the adventurers.  Curious, our heroes cluster around and read it for a time; it seems to imply the dragon mind-controlled the entire town, and possibly the adventurers as well, for a time.  

"Well, isn't it about time we went back to Othic's?" ventures Trinia, and the group cleans off their plates and hurries off to dinner.

"Aw, I think we're going to miss supper," Ed mopes.

_*Next time:*_ Dinner with Othic!  Inevitable bad dreams!  And bad news in the morning!

By the way- and I'm sure 90% of you reading this already know this, but hey- _Of Sound Mind_ is a fantastic module written by our own Piratecat.  It had the most satisfying conclusion of any module I've ever run when we finished it up the other night!


----------



## Lela

P-Kitty's the best at what he does.  Like Wolverine, only different.  Less death and trips to Japan for example.

 I do like the town has a history thing.  That's always fun.


----------



## the Jester

Lela, I'm glad you're enjoying this story hour- you might like one or more of the other ones in my sig, too.  The Early Years is a relatively new thread and it gives you a ton of the backstory of the world because the pcs back then are of legendary stature now (Dexter, for instance).


----------



## Wolfspirit

Heh, I'm still waiting to see a Story Hour when 



Spoiler



The party actually figures out that there's something wrong with the horses, and attempts to heal them.  This allways happens in games I run.  Did your party even spot the fact they were injured?  

I do wonder, though,  if the halflings are still going to be in the mood for dinner after the murder


----------



## the Jester

*Dinner thru Midnight Snackies*

“You were right,” Trinia tells Airhead Ed.  

They missed supper.

At least, reflect our halfling heroes, it’s dinner time, and as they approach Othic’s house at the edge of Bellhold, they can smell delicious aromas wafting towards them.  It smells like cooking lamb, carrots and cabbage all together.  Dogfish’s stomach rumbles as they knock on the door and the old man cheerily lets them in.

Dinner is, indeed, as good as it smells.  Our heroes eat like only halflings can, rubbing happy tummies and drinking cider and small beer to wash it all down.  MMMM!  Good stuff!

The conversation around the table, unfortunately, dwells on less pleasant things than Othic’s cooking.  Bellhold is in the grip of many troubles, and the old man tells them a little bit about it.  First came the nightmares, terrible dreams that leave everyone restless.  “I think even the chickens are having them,” the farmer continues.  “The animals are all testy- heck, you saw my garen!  Most of the town’s clerics and the local wizard have left, saying they couldn’t concentrate to get their spells back.  Been bad.  Likely you’ll see yourself tonight, so you watch yourselves.”

Worse, three local children have gone missing.  The local band of adventurers went after them, but they haven’t been heard from since.  The entire town’s in an uproar, and nobody’s been able to find any sign of them as of yet.  “I only hope they find the kids and nobody’s been hurt,” Othic shakes his head.

The group retires to the porch to smoke a pipe load.  “I have to go into the town on business in the morning,” Othic says peacefully.  “What say we meet at the Bell and Clapper for breakfast?”  The halfling band gladly agrees; this fellow’s been very nice, and plus he’s talking about _breakfast,_ you know?

Then, from the bell tower near the center of town, a deep bong sounds.  Even here, at least a good mile away, it’s loud enough that it’s impossible to miss.  “Sounds like they’re calling a town meeting,” Othic says with surprise.

“Maybe we should go see what’s up,” Trinia suggests.

So our heroes head to the plaza in the center of town.  As they walk down the road more and more local peasants and farmers come into view, en route to the meeting themselves as well.  By the time their short legs reach Wyrmcall Plaza, there are at least six hundred people present.  It’s an impressive turnout.  Near the base of the bell tower a lunatic raves at the crowd, his eyes wild and his mouth stretched open, spittle flying as he screams about some horrible creature ‘returning.’  Clearly, it’s the ranting of a madman.  Soon enough two of the local watchmen appear and gently escort him off to the side, trying to calm and quiet him.  Meanwhile, a makeshift stage and podium have been set up at one edge of the plaza, and a human male of middle years, obviously a local official of some kind (actually the mayor) ascends to the podium and calls for silence.

After a few moments of gradual quieting, the crowd finally settles down enough that the mayor can be heard, and he speaks in a strong, loud voice.  “Good evening, folks!  I’ve called you here tonight to talk about all our recent troubles here.  Now I know there’s a lot of talk about us being cursed or something, about how it’s time to move somewhere else, about how a lot of people have left already, and I think it’s time we put a stop to that.  So my intent is to address all the problems we’re currently facing, and explain why they aren’t really problems, or at least not as bad as some people are making out.”

As he speaks, the crowd’s rumbling rises slightly in volume, but this time it’s the rumbling of a crowd talking over what the speaker they’re watching is saying.  Continuing, the mayor says, “Problem!  Three children are missing.  Well, all of them were old enough to run away, and maybe that’s what happened.  We’ve sent messages to all the nearby towns, and not only that, the Heroes of the Bell have gone looking for them.  We’re gonna find them soon, folks.  No problem.

“Problem!  The Heroes of the Bell are also missing.  Well, of course they are- they’re looking for the children!  If the Heroes were still here, they wouldn’t be doing their job, would they?  No problem- probably a solution to the missing children, in fact.

“Problem!  We’re all suffering from headaches.  Well, that includes me, folks, so I know.  It’s annoying, but no known spell or curse could cause it.  We’ve asked the druids to send someone to come check the water and food supplies for any kind of poison or taint, and they should be here in a day or so.  Once we figure out what’s causing them, the headaches are as good as gone.  So they’re annoying, but certainly not the kind of thing to leave your homes over!  No problem.

“Problem!  People are having nightmares.  Well, again, me too.  We know that we aren’t cursed by a god for sins, no matter what some people say, and we don’t know what else could cause it.  But Utrish the wise woman-“

“Witch!” someone in the crowd shouts.

“-has prophesized that the dreams and headaches won’t last more than another week, and she’s always right.  We just need to wait these bad dreams out.  No problem.

“Problem!  Animals are acting funny.  The chickens aren’t laying, the cows aren’t milking, and the garen are skittish.”

At mention of garen, Coco frowns, thinking about the foul-tempered beasts that he spoke to while trying to help Othic out.  

“We know,” Bellhold’s mayor continues.  “We think they’re getting headaches and having bad dreams too.  We’ll ask the druids to look into it when they get here in a few days.  No problem.

“Problem!  People are scared to go down in the mines.  Now, there’s no reason _at all_ for this.  Master Krekket here-” he gestures to a well-dressed man nearby- “has guaranteed that the tunnels are safe, and what more assurance do you need than that?  This isn’t the old days, and it’s up to all of us to ensure that just as much copper gets mined this month as last month, headaches or no.  There’s nothing down in the mines, no reason to be afraid of them; no problem.”

The mayor continues speaking for a few more moments before opening things to questions, but our heroes are already heading back to the Bell & Clapper to secure rooms for the night and get eight o’clock munchies.  After an hour or so Coco goes outside and wanders around the town, looking for whores.  He finds one and tries to persuade her to work for him, using his spiked gauntlet, but after a brief scuffle that doesn’t really end with Coco having a working ho he heads back to the Bell & Clapper.

The rest of the evening is uneventful and right after midnight snack time they all go to sleep.  The morning starts off nice, with a warm sunrise and clear skies, but it’s kind of shot to hell by Othic’s tardiness.  Our heroes don’t really want to start eating until he arrives, but when he’s an hour late they start ordering anyway.  And that’s when one of Othic’s helper’s bursts in, crying, “Murder!  Othic has been murdered!”


_*Next Time:*_ Wow, this little town has a lot going on!  What will our heroes check into first?  Will they discover anything?  First level pcs are fragile- how long til the first one dies???  Learn at least some of the answers soon!


----------



## the Jester

I'm pleased as punch to announce that in a few updates here, Thelonious' player will be writing an update or two!  Some of you may have read his stuff before a little bit- he's Lester's player as well, so he's got one update in To War Against Felenga, too.  Personally, I think that one's hilarious.


----------



## Manzanita

How about a rogue's gallary for this one.  Is Coco really a pimp?  What do the others think about that?


----------



## the Jester

Manzanita said:
			
		

> How about a rogue's gallary for this one.  Is Coco really a pimp?  What do the others think about that?




Sure, I'll do a RG thread for this... prolly not til the pcs encounter the 'tax collector', but expect it shortly after that!

Coco was an aspiring pimp.  As for his aspirations- well, you'll see.


----------



## Lela

Eventually Coco should learn that adventuring pays far more than pimping.  Or he'll die trying.


----------



## robberbaron

Excellent so far. More, more, more.

Having played this module as several levels higher, I am looking forward to finding out how it works with 1sts.


----------



## Welverin

Ooh, another story hour for me to not read while classes throw off my reading schedule. I will catch up at some point though, I promise you!


----------



## Lela

Welverin said:
			
		

> Ooh, another story hour for me to not read while classes throw off my reading schedule. I will catch up at some point though, I promise you!



 Heh, always room in that boat next to me.  I'll see about saving you a seat in the VIP section.


----------



## Welverin

Lela said:
			
		

> Heh, always room in that boat next to me.  I'll see about saving you a seat in the VIP section.




Thanks, I'm going to have a lot to read once I get back to. Even more if jonrog ever updates again.


----------



## the Jester

*A Little Look Around*

Othic’s barn holds several garen- green and yellow, yellow and brown or green and brown in color, striped equine creatures.  A number of the stall gates are broken asunder and some of the animals are milling around outside.  The clucking of the chickens as our heroes approach it seems fearful to Trinia.  The coppery smell of blood taints the air heavily.  

The poor old man is dead, no doubt of that.  Thelonious gulps softly, examining the body.  It’s clear he died by being trampled by garen; but there are nasty bite marks as well.  _Something attacked him, then panicked the garen...?_ the ranger thinks.

Our short heroes exeunt the barn.  Outside, in the fresh air, they look at each other with pained eyes.  Ed has been crying since before they reached Othic’s farm.

“Well,” Sandy says hesitantly, “it isn’t really any of our business.  And we have to get the bell made...”  

“I think we should help them out,” Ed blubbers.  “He _fed_ us!”

“And we do have time before we need to go back,” her twin Coco adds.

So our heroes go to the plaza in the center of town.  Not far from it is the bell maker, and they visit him first.  Then they try to seek out Mayor Hob, the man they saw speak to the town in the square.  They manage to sweet-talk their way in to him and offer to help.

Hob looks tired.  “Anything you could do, we’d appreciate.  I guess the biggest thing is to find the children.  The longer they’re missing, the more likely it is that something bad will happen to her.”

Hob gladly sends someone to show the party the kids’ last known location.  “We’ll send whoever we can muster to help you, but we’ve already looked the ground over and our trackers couldn’t find anything,” he laments. 

“Maybe I can,” Thelonious says, and once in the shadow of the mountains where the children were last known to have been, he commenced a thorough examination of ground, brush, twig and creek.  After about an hour, he exclaimed, “Here!” and started moving across ground empty to the eyes of the others.  Slowly they followed the ground, Thelonious sometimes muttering to himself.  “Goblins,” he announces at one point, then presses his lips together.  _I hope the kids are still alive,_ he thinks grimly.

The party decides to wait for whatever trackers Mayor Hob can come up with to arrive.  At about the fourth hour past noon, a single crabby and unhelpful man arrives.  He’s brusque but willing to follow Thelonious’ lead.

Up the skirt of the mountain (which looks to shortly become unclimbable) the party moves, the two trackers working together to guide the group.  “Won’t be able to get up the mountain,” the surly tracker comments.  

“You couldn’t find the trail, either,” mutters Sandy.

Soon the tracks lead our heroes to a narrow hidden path that ascends.  But it’s nightfall, and soon the climb would become untenable.  “We’ll get an early start tomorrow,” Dogfish suggests.  The group returns to town, the tracker sullenly telling them they’re on their own.  He’s short-tempered and hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in quite a while.  

So back to town the clan goes, their dog scampering after them.  A good couple of meals, a good night’s sleep and a few more meals; then they’ll come back.

And someone will die.


_*Next Time:*_ The halfling party’s first fatality!


----------



## Lela

> And someone will die.
> 
> _*Next Time:*_ The halfling party’s first fatality!



Too look forward to the next update or not.  That is the question.

Ah, screw it, give us blood!!!!!


----------



## the Jester

*A Difficult Climb*

His fingers dig for purchase.  His breath is short and his calves are screaming as he stretches up, pushing hard with his toe to avoid falling from the mountain face.  Even with the path they found, the climb is nearly impossible.  

For an instant he feels his toe start to slip, and then Thelonious' rough grip snatches at his wrist, pulling him up onto the ledge.  With a shudder, Federico collapses, whining.  His arms and legs are trembling, his tail's between his legs.  The poor, weak kobold* has been having more trouble with the climb than anyone else, but even so, the entire group is sore and tired from their exertions.  

But they're making progress up Steeple Mountain.

They pause for a moment to catch their breath, then continue up the trail, scrabbling over rough rocks and clambering up natural steps.  They work together, and by midday they've come to a dreadful sheer cliff.  Even with the climber's kit they borrowed from the mayor, our heroes know this is a treacherous and potentially lethal section of the mountain.  Again they pause for a moment.

"Looks almost like the mountain's been carved against climbing," Coco pants.  His twin sister, Ed, bursts into tears.  

Thelonious ties off one end of a rope.  Sandy gulps, takes the other end, and carefully picks his way across the cliff to the other side.  He never looks down- it's probably an eighty foot drop.  Once he reaches the other side, he takes a deep breath and ties the other end of the rope tautly to a sturdy shrub.  "All right," he shouts.

One by one the party starts clambering across.

***

Brother He's face is smooth as he continues his ascent of the mountain.  He's never seen the sun before these last few days, and it's a marvelous revelation to him.  Though it hurt his eyes at first, he adjusted within the first few hours.  It's amazing, how far he can see- and the colors!  Much more vivid than by torch or witchlight.  

But he is ascending, and must discipline his mind to do so.  The ascension to the top of a surface mountain is symbolic of his spiritual ascent, which of course has only just begun.  But as he transcends his body and mind, so too must he transcend his environment.  

Suddenly Brother He's train of thought is interrupted by a terrible warbling scream from above him.  He whips his gaze up.  

There!  Above him- a group of climbers- and one falling, falling, down towards him.

***

When it's Ed's turn to climb across, she hesitates for a long moment.  Instead of using the rope to aid her in climbing, she tentatively steps onto it, balancing precariously.  

"Careful," Coco cautions as she walks out slowly across the rope.  Ed's heart thuds in her chest as she eases her way across and steps off. 

Coco steps up after her.  He makes it halfway across, and it's tricky; there's considerable wind- and he loses his balance.  For an instant he flails his arms, trying to get it back, and then he's starting to fall.  His fingertips brush against the rope, but not enough.  He shrieks as the cliff whistles past him.  Then there's a flash of bone-shattering pain and everything goes black for Coco.

"NOOOOO!!!" howls Ed.  "NOOOOOO!!! NOOOOO!!!"

Below, Brother He lowers the arm he raised to shield himself from the splatter of blood and organs that burst from poor Coco's mouth as he died.  He can hear the cries of grief above him.  After a moment's consideration, he arranges the body and builds a quick cairn for him; then Brother He begins to climb up the cliff, towards our heroes, to offer his condolences.

"Who are you?  Why are you here?" asks Thelonious, studying the figure before him.  He sees a pale halfling, clearly one of the so-called deep halflings from the Underdark, dressed in simple robes.

"I am Brother He," the monk replies.  "I am on a journey of spiritual ascent.  To symbolize this, I must climb this mountain.  And you?"

"We're following some missing children," growls Dogfish.  "Looks like they were kidnapped by goblins."

"Children!" Brother He exclaims.  "Perhaps I can help somehow.  I would be glad to."

Ed is weeping for her brother; the group decides to pause for a snack and to decide whether to continue forward...


*Str 1, poor thing.


_*Next Time:*_ Nothing like rolling rocks on adventurers!


----------



## Lela

> *Str 1, poor thing.



  Ouch.

I like the new name.  Brother He.  Another play on gender.  Is this a common practice in your groups or are you just having fun with the Halflings?


----------



## Piratecat

Ouchie ouchie ouchie splat!  Trying it the hard way, eh?


----------



## the Jester

Lela said:
			
		

> Ouch.
> 
> I like the new name.  Brother He.  Another play on gender.  Is this a common practice in your groups or are you just having fun with the Halflings?




I don't know, I've never really noticed it before!  I think it's just this particular party- started as a very light-hearted game, and likely to have a lot of light elements in it from time to time.

It was a bummer when Coco fell to his death, though- I thought he had a lot of potential!


----------



## the Jester

*Rolling Rocks on Adventurers*

As they’re ascending, Ed’s sobs suddenly give way to a strangled shriek.  She looks around, a panicky light in her eyes.  “Who said that?” she cries.  Our heroes reassure her that nobody was talking, but she insists, “I _heard_ something!”  Her tears flow freely again, blowing away in the vicious wind.  The party stops for a few moments, straining their ears.  Nothing.  

A bit further up the mountainside, where cold wind lashes at our heroes, they spot a ledge some distance up above.  Brother He motions for the group to stop, cocking his head as if listening.  “Do you hear something?”

A few moments pass in nervous silence.  Then Trinia jumps.  “Dark!  What was that?”  Apprehension fills them.  They’re all hearing voices, but... but maybe not the same voice?

“I’m scared,” Ed cries.  

Thelonious and Trinia study the shadows.  It’s early afternoon; they can reach the ledge shortly.  “Perhaps someone should scout,” Brother He offers, following the direction of their gazes as they scan the ledge again.

And soon, He and Sandy are scaling the face of the mountain, heading up for the ledge.  The path seems to end somewhere near it; perhaps something lives up there?  And then there’s a loud rumbling noise.  Sandy glances up and his jaw falls open.  “Look out!” he cries.

A large, roundish rock is rolling and bouncing down the face of the mountain at him.

Sandy cringes, pulling himself as flat against the mountain as he can.  The rock hits a small outcropping several feet above him and bounces over and past him, missing by inches.  He shouts in fear, then glances up again.  _More rocks!_ he thinks wildly as two more start bouncing downhill at him.  

“Goblins!” cries Brother He, and he starts pulling himself further up the mountain.  A rock as big as his chest smashes by him, pulverizing a few mountainside weeds as it crashes inexorably downward.  Sandy follows his lead, but then a rock finally lands home, smashing Brother He badly in the head.  He reels, barely maintaining his grip on the cliff side, and thinks grimly, _We cannot achieve victory like this._  He starts heading back down, ignoring the pounding in his head.  Again, Sandy follows his lead, descending towards the rest of the party.  They can hear the goblins hooting victoriously up above.  Rocks continue to rain around them, and both of them keep hearing the whispered voices, murmuring madness in their heads.  

They both escape further damage from the rocks and reach the rest of the group safely.  “We can’t make it up there,” Sandy says grimly.  “Maybe if we had a powerful wizard to lob a _fireball_ at them or something.”

“Let’s keep going around the mountain and see if we can find another way up,” suggests Dogfish, so the party agrees.  They go back down the dangerous climb they’ve already ascended, moving slowly and carefully, tears springing from Ed’s face as they pass the death place of her unfortunate twin brother.  Once the group gets down far enough- below the part of the mountain that looks carved against ascent- the going is much easier.  They begin moving laterally, circling around the skirt of the mountain.

“The local mines,” Federico points out as a guarded cave entrance comes into view. 

“Maybe there’s a secret entrance or something in there,” suggests Trinia.  “Let’s see if they’ll let us in.”

The party approaches the mine entrance and strikes up a conversation with the guards.  They are denied at every turn, though the guards are reasonable and nice enough; but they simply _aren’t allowed_ in the mines.  Everything’s fine; there are no missing children in there; the adventurers who are after the kids aren’t in there.  Go away.

“What if the dragon had a secret exit out of the mines?” suggests Ed. 

“Bah, the dragon’s mines have been abandoned for nigh on fifty years,” scoffs one of the guards.  “These are the town’s mines, dug after the ol’ dragon was killed.  And even if they were the same mines, _you’re unauthorized._  You can’t go in.”

“Who could authorize us?” asks Ed.

“Well, the owner, of course- Lucius Krekket.  But he’s a busy man, gots a business to run, and why he’d let you in I don’t know.”

The band of halflings (and their allies) heads off.  “Perhaps we can find the old mine, entrance,” Brother He says.  “Let’s keep moving around the mountain...”


_*Next Time:*_ The old mines!


----------



## Lela

Stupid red tape.  Not even Fruit By the Foot so the Halflings can't eat it.


----------



## robberbaron

Does every party doing this module try to climb the mountain?


----------



## the Jester

*Into the Old Mines*

“There, look!” Dogfish grunts.  

Our heroes have just ascended a rough but climbable ledge, and now they can see decrepit mining equipment, destroyed by free townsfolk or weather.  It’s further along the skirt of the mountain, but lower; there’s even a path that leads away from it, though so overgrown that it’s only noticeable from a distance.  Had they been on it, the choking weeds and stubby shrubs would have left them unaware of it.  From here, though, the party can tell, by the surrounding vegetation, that a trail big enough for a cart leads off towards town.

Now the climbing is easier as they descend; and before another hour is passed, they’ve reached the entrance, sealed by a set of beaten copper plates that have been bent apart enough for someone to move through and enter the old mines.  “Look at this!” Sandy exclaims.  “It was bent twice- and they even left us a rope!”

Indeed, a knotted rope is tied to a nearby boulder and snakes into the hole.

“Well, isn’t that lucky,” comments Ed.

“Maybe it was the other adventurers,” suggests the kobold, Federico.  “Maybe we should go back and get help.  I’m hungry.”  He’s shivering, as usual.

At the mention of food, Ed’s stomach grumbles.  But Dogfish snorts and starts descending the rope, entering a shaft.  So our heroes clamber down a series of ropes and into the old mines of the dragon Copperdeath.  The sound of water echoes from somewhere below them, and soon our heroes land upon a creaky, obviously unstable platform.  Next to it, the wall opens and a passage leads away.  The rope continues further down.

Dogfish nods to himself and steps into the passage, following it down to a large room.  The others are cautiously following him.  More old mining equipment lies around, untouched for perhaps decades.  Large greenish beetles scuttle away from the light of Sandy’s lantern as they begin poking around in the old discarded wheelbarrows and sledges, but it’s obvious that it would take hours to search through the place and there’s no obvious reward, so they continue deeper into the mines.  Dogfish continues to lead the party forward, ignoring the mined-out area and continuing through the room.

Then, as the group approaches the room’s exit, the light falls on a pile of three severed heads on the ground.  Ed gasps and starts crying.  Federico starts shivering violently and tuffs his tail between his legs.  Dogfish cocks his head and furrows his brow, continuing to walk forward, and the heads suddenly open their swollen yellowish eyes and let out horrific bubbling screams!  Our heroes are taken rather aback, and for a moment they freeze in horror- then they react, taking up weapons and bracing themselves, but nothing happens right away.  So, shrugging, Dogfish leads the party directly through the intersection.  The corridor goes further than our heroes can see, but there seem to be dozens of mining tunnels off of either side.  Brother He spots movement!  “Look out!” he cries, but it’s too late, as a shambling reptilian humanoid, stinking like rotting fish, steps out from a tunnel on Dogfish’s left and swings a ponderous blow with a club as he passes by.  The barbarian gives a hoarse yell, turning his head to see his attacker, and then another one of the nasty creatures staggers out of a passage just ahead of him and to his right!  Again the creature misses, but further down the passage another one steps out.

Brother He wastes no time, swinging his fist into first one’s belly.  He was ten feet behind Dogfish, so he’s already in position.  His blow deals significant damage, but there’s no blood.  Instead, Brother He comes to a sickening realization as he feels its cold flesh.

Sandy throws himself forward, stabbing the one behind Dogfish and moving to stand next to Brother He.  The thing turns, its eyes empty of volition or consciousness, and swings its club at Sandy, but the limber halfling ducks under it.  The other one that initially attacked raises its club and smacks it down on Dogfish, hitting him in the face with the strength of the dead.  The barbarian grunts and coughs, but still stands.  The other one the party can see shambles forward, and another moves into view behind it.  “Oh no!” Federico cries in dismay, then starts shouting and singing encouragement to the rest of our heroes, hoping to inspire courage in their hearts.  Shaking, he pulls out his sling and a bullet, preparing to... to fight.  He shakes harder at the thought.

Dogfish finally gets his wits about him and gives out a great hoarse roar, swinging his mighty (small) greataxe at the stinking lizard-corpse facing him.  His blow crashes into its ribs and heart and lungs, smashing them like icicles on a winter afternoon.  The thing doesn’t really seem to need them, however, and as it can still stand up it keeps fighting.  Dogfish grunts in disappointment, then smacks it again.  It’s _still_ up!  Trinia moves in, her scimitar flashing, but she’s scared- she’s never seen this kind of unnatural, undead monstrosity before.  She swipes at it, but keeping away from that club keeps her from scoring a blow herself.  

Another of the zombies hits Brother He, slapping his head with its club.  He staggers, kicking it in a nerve cluster (_Useless!_ he thinks) and steps back a few paces, shaking his head to clear it.  Sandy falls back, too, and he and Federico start a rain of sling bullets and daggers.  But one of the zombies shambles up on Sandy and strikes him in the arm.  He cries out as it flares with red-hot agony, then pulls out his morningstar, ignoring the pain.  Gritting his teeth, the lil guy swings, and smack! He nails the monster.  Dogfish finally beats down his foe and turns to the next one, spittle flying from his lips as he laughs hoarsely.  Federico yowls, smacking a zombie’s jaw with a sling bullet, fracturing it and smashing a large chunk of flesh loose.  It’s the same one that Dogfish is on, and his next blow takes it out.  Trinia finally lands a blow, and it’s the final one of the battle, as she takes the last zombie out. 

Breathing hard, our heroes decide to rest for a moment before continuing on...



_*Next Time:*_ The barrier and the bonetangle!


----------



## Lela

Heh, those zombies weren't that tough.  It took a whole tight-rope to kill a halfling last time.  Super powerful undead won't do crap.


----------



## the Jester

*The Barrier and the Bonetangle!*

Our heroes move onward after catching their breath.  Shortly, they find themselves at a 10’ wide door made of beaten copper, green with corrosion.  The air stinks horribly, a rank fishy musk hanging all around our heroes.  Ed starts crying.

Dogfish, his face wrinkling in disgust at the stink, tries the door, but it seems to be barricaded from the far side.  He throws his shoulder against it with a bang, but it doesn’t move.  However, upon making said banging sound, Dogfish very effectively knocks on the door, and a voice hisses out from behind it.  At first our heroes cannot comprehend it; it’s not in a language any of them speak.  Then it switches to Strogassian, and the raving from the other side resolves into comprehensibility.  

”You hass comesss back to finishh the jobsss, eh?  To killsss uss?  Likesss you did the othersss?  Comesss and try, then!”

“All right then, we will!” Dogfish yells back, and our heroes arrange themselves for battle.  Once they’re ready, the barbarian throws his shoulder at the door- and much to his surprise, he finds that it’s been unbarred!  He flies into the room, almost loses his balance, and charges as-

What the hell _is_ that?

It looks like a tangle of bones of all sorts, knitted together by some foul necromancy; ribs bristle from it like knives, and it’s got large, leg-bone sized arms.  Dogfish smashes into it, his axe striking with terrific force, and he barely damages it.  _Uh-oh,_ he thinks.

The rest of our small party our pouring into the room.  Brother He’s got his harpoon out ; Trinia and Federico are casting spells.  The kobold _dazes_ the troglodyte shaman behind the bonetangle, while Trinia summons a wolf that slavers at the sight of all those yummy bones and jumps to it.  Brother He seizes his chance, hurling his harpoon at the trog, and it sinks into the creature’s thigh.  

Then the bonetangle swipes out at Dogfish with crushing force; and a mace-like skull slams into Dogfish’s chest.  Worse yet, it grabs him and pulls him into its jagged body, crushing him against it.  Dogfish shouts in pain and fear as he’s pierced and crushed.  He struggles for his very life.

Sandy’s sling is a blur as he twirls it.  With a _whack!_ a bullet flies from it into the bonetangle, cracking one of its bones.  He tries again, but this shot misses.  Cursing to himself, he reloads.  This looks bad.  Brother He, meanwhile, is tumbling in and attacking the bonetangle, but his fists bounce off of the tough bones.  _Find your center,_ he thinks, concentrating and preparing to strike.

Federico fires off another _daze_ at the enemy shaman, and again the troglodyte succumbs to the magic, standing in place and hesitating.  But the bonetangle moves a little closer to him, so Federico decides to back off some, and the shaman finally comes out of his trance.  In agony from the harpoon, angry and in despair, he casts a spell on Brother He, who suddenly grows afraid, and then the shaman moves forward.  Trinia moves forward to engage the tangle of bone, hoping to rescue Dogfish, who is squealing in horrible pain.  She doesn’t think he can last much longer, and the wolf isn’t having much luck with the undead thing.  

_Spak!_  A sling bullet hits the shaman in the head, and he hisses an incredible hiss, shaking his head to clear his eyes of spots.  That one came from a _kobold!_  What an insult!  Chanting, the priest rushes up and touches the group’s ‘dog’.  The kobold squeals as wounds open all over his body!  Blood gushes forth and he staggers back, yipping with his tail between his legs.  He looks around for help but everyone else is busy with the bonetangle!  He tumbles away and slings at the trog, but the shaman is relentlessly coming towards him.  

Meanwhile, Dogfish screams again as the bonetangle pierces him in a dozen places, blood spraying all over the place.  Brother He pounds on it, snapping a few bones and dealing significant damage, but then Dogfish passes out, unable to bear the pain any longer, and the bonetangle’s wrath descends on the monk!  Brother He dodges as an arm of bone slaps at him, but he just isn’t fast enough!  In an instant, he’s down!

Dismayed, Sandy cries, “We should’ve gone back for second breakfast!”  He fires another sling bullet at the undead monstrosity, but it just bounces off its tough bone body.  

Dogfish gives one last agonized unconscious scream of pain as the bonetangle crucifies him on it.  Sharp ribs come out his belly, his arms, his thighs, his eye.  Horrified, Ed bursts into tears.  The troglodyte is still advancing on Federico, who keeps trying to retreat, whimpering, but can’t get far enough away!  Things are looking bad!

Then Trinia is there, cutting the troglodyte’s advance off, slicing with her scimitar- and she slices at its right hand, removing three fingers!  It shrieks in dismay, staggering, and tries to bite the druid.  She cries out in fear as its slobbery teeth snap at her, but it comes up short as Federico’s sling bullet hits it in the eye.  It staggers back, shakes its head, grunts, and then falls.  

Sandy, who’s kept up a steady stream of sling bullets all along, lands another on the bonetangle and it shatters.  Drawing a shaky breath, our heroes check out their casualties.

“Brother He will live,” Trinia says.  

The group looks mournfully on the body of their dead friend Dogfish.  

“May Nature take him to her bosom,” breathes the druidess, and Ed bursts into tears.



_*Next Time:*_ The statue!


----------



## Lela

Then again, maybe super powerful undead pack a bit more of a punch than I thought.  Ouch.


----------



## the Jester

*Mourning; the Witch of Bellhold*

Slowly our small heroes emerge, one by one, from the old mines of Steeple Mountain.  Once worked by slaves of the now-slain dragon Copperdeath, they seem to have become a haven for new dangers.

Our heroes, alas, are in mourning.

They rest in the drizzle, letting the chilly water soak through them and wash them clean.  The stink of rotting fish clings to them, relic of the troglodyte zombies and their trog shaman master.  And the oily feeling of wrongness that clings to them at the thought of how many of the clan has fallen since they set out to get the bell soils them all.

When night falls it only grows worse.  Each of them is gnawed by terrible dreams, night terrors that shake them and confront them with the recently dead, their secret fears and weaknesses.  Thankfully, dreams tend to fade on waking; otherwise...

Otherwise, what?  Our heroes don’t know.  But the citizens of Bellhold are beginning to find out.

Our heroes need some time to rest and heal, and they don’t feel safe near this cursed mine.  So they head back into Bellhold, to the Bell & Clapper, the local inn located along the central plaza.  Securing rooms, they briefly discuss returning to the mines, but too many of them are still wounded.  Brother He can barely stand, for that matter; and so the group instead decides to investigate the local witch they heard mentioned.

“Remember?” Sandy asks them as they discuss it.  “When they had the town meeting, the mayor said she’d seen a vision about the nightmares ending or something.”

“That’s right!” exclaims Federico.  “Maybe she can help us or something!”  

The group therefore asks around until they get directions to the witch’s home.  Her name, they are told again, is Utrish.  She is alleged to be insane; the group can’t find anyone who actually knows her well or calls her friend.  Many of the townsfolk seem mistrustful of her, and a few even warn the group away from her.

Undeterred, our heroes seek her out.  They follow their directions and soon arrive at a squat cottage, painted with a variety of arcane-looking symbols and glyphs.  Cautiously, Trinia calls out, “Hello?”

There’s no answer, but Brother He hears a branch crack behind the cottage, as if trodden underfoot.  Moving swiftly, he darts behind the building and intercepts an old woman with tangled hair and a dirty peasant dress on.

“Hello,” Brother He says.  “Are you Utrish?”

The old woman starts.  Eyes darting nervously about, she hums to herself for a moment, then mutters, “Yes.  I’m going, though.  Must be going...”

“We heard that you saw a vision of the nightmares ending,” Sandy interjects.  “Perhaps you could answer a couple of our questions.”

“We’re trying to aid your people,” Thelonious adds.

Fearfully, the old woman whines, “I just want to _go._  It’s not good here anymore, not good!  Terrible, terrible dreams...”  She trails off, looking imploringly at the party.

“We’ll let you go as soon as you answer a few of our questions,” Sandy says firmly.  “Do you know what’s causing the nightmares?”  The witch shakes her head mutely.  “What did you see in your vision?” Sandy demands.

Reluctantly, she speaks.  “I... I told Philippa Krekket the truth.  The truth.  In a week the nightmares will be over...”  She gulps, squeezing her eyes shut as if in pain.  “But I didn’t tell her the whole truth,” she whispers.  “Not all of it.  The nightmares will be over... because _there will not be anyone here who can dream._”



_*Next Time:*_ Captain Cavedwarf and the dragon statue!


----------



## Lela

*gasp!!!!!!!!!!!!!*


----------



## the Jester

*Captain Cavedwarf and the Stone Dragon*

Well-rested and finally healed to nearly full strength, our heroes have returned to the cave.  Through the chamber wherein they battled the troglodyte shaman and his bonetangle they go, stopping to shed a few tears for their lost companions.

_You will die!_ shrieks that voice in Thelonious’ head.  He glances around at the others, but they don’t seem to hear it.  He can’t help but worry about his sanity- the voice has nagged at him for days, now, and he’s afraid of it.  If it’s real, it’s probably even worse than if he’s going mad.

Indeed, the voice is real; everyone in the group has been hearing its words, but each hears his or her own set of threats and ranting.  Whatever it is, it’s foul and evil, and our heroes would just as soon get outta town and leave it be, but they have a bell to obtain.

Their new companion stops to sniff the air around them.  The stench of the dead trog and trog zombies is, if anything, even worse than when they were alive.  “Troglodytes,” the dwarf says contemptuously.  He glances at his fellow druid Trinia.  “The ones you told me about, I presume?”

She nods, glad to have another druid (even if he is uncouth, hairy and a little simple seeming) in the group.  He was dispatched by the Circle to investigate the local nightmares and evil occurrences, to see if anything was wrong with the water or the soil, if poison had been introduced to the food supply, generally to investigate.  He bears a large club; the only name he gives (and he uses it as a battle cry) is Captain Cavedwarf.

From the shaman’s room exit three passages other than the one they entered.  They begin with the one closest to their entrance, and it leads them into a series of turns and branches.  They follow the passage as straight as they can, finally emerging, strangely enough, into a lit area.  A huge stone statue of a dragon sits against the far wall, its eyes huge faceted blue gems.  Directly before it is the source of the light: a huge copper bowl full of bright yellow flames, raised on a massive stone block.

Eyeing the statue, Captain Cavedwarf says, “Uh-oh.”

It doesn’t seem to be moving, but that isn’t too reassuring; indeed, our heroes expect it to animate, attack, and kill them all at any moment.  Fearfully, they creep into the large room (it’s got to be around 100’ long and almost as wide), eyes locked on the draconian statue.  Nothing happens; nothing moves.  Slowly, Brother He and Sandy approach the statue.  Still nothing.  Brother He pokes at it with a finger, then smacks it.  The statue remains quiescent, and the party finally starts to relax and really look around.  The walls are carved with many images, depicting all kinds of mining operations and the making of offerings to a great dragon (presumably the deceased Copperdeath).

Sandy keeps looking at those scintillating gems in the statue’s eyes.  “I wish we could get those,” he murmurs.

“Yeah...”  Captain Cavedwarf tugs his beard.  “If anything’s going to animate that dragon...”  He leaves the thought unfinished.  Sandy nods.

After some discussion, the party decides it’s worth a little risk to get the two jewels.  After all, they need to pay for their bell, if nothing else; the purse they were sent with is going to prove insufficient.  So, after discussing their skill sets, it is decided that Brother He is most likely to successfully climb the 30’ statue, remove the eyes and return without falling.  When the subject of falling comes up, Ed wails and the tears start as she thinks of her dead brother Coco.

“I wish Mama were here,” whimpers Federico as Brother He starts his climb.

The small monk easily ascends the statue, coming to rest on its large head.  Taking a moment to think it through and catch his breath, Brother He pulls a dagger.  Wrapping his legs tightly around the neck of the statue, he leans forward, stretches out his knife and starts prying at the eye. 

Even as the faceted gemstone pops free into his hand, He feels the statue beneath him rear and try to throw him.  Suddenly everything’s moving!  Gritting his teeth, Brother He clings with all his might, the head twisting and snapping to try to cast him from it.  “Oof!” he grunts as he almost loses his grip, then, in a feat of amazing daring, he starts prying at the other eye.

“Throw the eye!” Sandy shouts, and a sling bullet whizzes past the writhing dragon statue.  It stomps forward, its footfalls landing hard and loud, still struggling to dislodge its impromptu rider.  As the dragon moves forward, a passage behind it is uncovered!

“Look!” cries Federico. 

Captain Cavedwarf’s too busy to look, but he sees the passage nonetheless.  His _shillelagh_ flares green as he screams, “CAPTAIN CAAAVEDWAAARF!!!!”  A mighty blow bounces right off the dragon’s rocky form.  Another fails to do any damage.  Another.... Cursing, Captain Cavedwarf breaks off his assault and runs for the hidden doorway.

Sandy keeps firing, backing away a step at a time, but he’s getting very nervous.  When Brother He finally flies from the dragon’s now-cyclopean head, Sandy gulps and tries to move around the statue, but a great blow from one of its heavy granite wings takes him in the head, and with a groan Sandy falls unconscious before it.  

Brother He lands on his feet.  He let himself be thrown, used the momentum to get away from it.  Now he’s tumbling away, desperately trying to escape the relentless dragon.  _It’s following me!_ he thinks, then steels his mind.  Discipline will be his only salvation, and he knows he must escape it.  He rushes down the passage he came from, praying the dragon won’t be able to follow, and starts following the right hand wall.  

After running around a corner, he stops briefly to listen-

Nothing. 

Peeking around the corner, half expecting the thing to be there waiting to devour him, Brother He’s surprised to see that the dragon has returned to its pedestal, as if waiting for someone to approach it again.  _Is it asleep?_ the monk wonders, and cautiously advances again.  “Guys?” he calls nervously.

No answer, but He spots Sandy lying on the ground directly before the dragon’s bowl, looking too much like a sacrifice.  He looks badly injured, maybe even... Brother He doesn’t finish the thought.  The idea of another of his new friends having already fallen fills him with grief.  He darts forward, constantly throwing glances in the stone dragon’s direction, and puts a finger to Sandy’s neck, dreading what he’ll find, hoping against hope for-

A pulse!

Quickly, Brother He bandages his friend.  Then, slowly, he looks about.  There’s no sign of his friends.   

_The passage,_ he thinks.  He saw what Federico had pointed out.  

He glances at Sandy’s unconscious form.  Glances at the statue. 

Frowning, Brother He ponders his options.


_*Next Time:*_ A Femur From A Friendly Fey!


----------



## Lela

> The idea of another of his new friends having already fallen fills him with grief. He darts forward, constantly throwing glances in the stone dragon’s direction, and puts a finger to Sandy’s neck, dreading what he’ll find, hoping against hope for-
> 
> A pulse!



Nicely done!  That one pulled me in.

And dangit if I can't figure out that statue.  I'm so curious about it now.


----------



## the Jester

So, Lela, have you looked at the high-level story hour threads I've written?

Roughly, they go like this:

My old thread
Agents of Chaos
To War Against Felenga (link in sig)

Not sure if you're interested, but that might help you find a good place to start from if you are....


----------



## Lela

Well, let me finishe P-Kitty's (on page 5 of 39 in current thread) and then I may be able to take on another new SH.  Until then, though, I've got plenty to keep my story hungery eyes full.


----------



## the Jester

*Seperated and Scared*

Captain Cavedwarf pokes his head out of the copper bathtub he’s hiding in to hazard a glance in the direction of the secret entrance.  

Closed.  

The kobold crushed beneath his chest squirms, and the dwarven druid pushes himself up, cautiously glancing around for any signs of danger.  The floor itself seems to be covered with tarnished copper plates.  Nervously Captain Cavedwarf and Federico stand up.

“I’m scared,” whimpers the dog.

***

Brother He examines his chances, his unconscious friend, the fact that the others could be through the secret passage or down any of the many other tunnels they found.  They could even be on their way out.  It might be utterly futile to try to make for the secret passage.  But then again...

If his friends _are_ beyond the passage, might they not find a way to reopen it?  And if they aren’t, and something dangerous is, might Brother He not find himself in over his head?

He settles down to meditate.

***

The only exit from the large chamber with the copper floors is a curving, ascending tunnel.  Soon it becomes a sheer shaft, but again, whoever has come before them has left a rope.  Federico whimpers, his arms already aching from the climbing he’s already done.  He’s _weak.*_  But our heroes scale the rope, and then continue up another winding tunnel.  As they advance, Captain Cavedwarf notes a breeze coming from up ahead, as well as a rumbling noise.  _Water,_ he surmises, and soon our heroes emerge in a misty area.  A waterfall thunders down from above, the waters strangely luminescent.  A stone barrier prevents the water from flowing down the tunnel towards the pair, and clouds of water vapor fog the air. 

A strange singing wafts through the air.

“What’s that?” Federico whispers, awestruck by the beauty of the voice.  Captain Cavedwarf can only shake his head.

Emerging from the mist comes a beauteous form, a gorgeous elfin female without a stitch of clothing on.  “She’s so beautiful,” the kobold moans, and Captain Cavedwarf glances sharply in his direction.  Before he can speak, the kobold cries a greeting.

***

The other two of our group are nervously waiting near the entrance to the mines.  Resting, healing, preparing to attempt a rescue... or body retrieval.  They are grim.  Ed is crying, her face marred by rivers of tears.  Thelonious says nothing, laying with his eyes closed, trying to recoup some of his strength.  _Soon,_ he groans inwardly.  _I’ll go looking soon.  Maybe they’ll make it out on their own..._  He descends into feverish dreams.

_He’s sick,_ Airhead Ed thinks miserably as she looks at the exhausted big ranger.  _I hope he throws it off.  Bad things are happening here... we need everyone we’ve got left..._  As she starts to think of her dead friends, the tears start again, even without anyone to see her performance.

***

“Velea,” says the gorgeous woman, shaking Federico’s paw.  “And you?”  She smiles sweetly at them. 

The dwarf is cautious but hopeful.  She seems to be some sort of fey; hopefully they can help each other out.  The talk is respectful, and soon turns to the dragon.  “Old Copperdeath,” muses the fey.  She sounds both fearful and respectful as she speaks of him.  “I’ve been hearing his voice lately, as if he’s somehow _returned_... I don’t know if it’s possible, but I’ve been bound here for so long now... I must be free!  You must help me!”

Captain Cavedwarf frowns but holds his tongue as Federico gladly agrees to everything she suggests.

“Have you seen another band of adventurers come through here?” the dwarf suddenly asks.  

“Oh, ah, well...”  She looks momentarily pensive.  “Yes, two of them came to visit me.  I think they were seeking Copperdeath as well...”  She trails off.  “I’m afraid I grew too impatient to get their aid.”

“Do you have any food?” Federico interrupts.  “I’m hungry.”  

“Of course, my little friend!”  She stoops down and kisses his on his scaly forehead.  “Anything for you!”  She dives into the pool the waterfall pounds into, and a few moments later emerges with something in her hand.  The dwarven druid watches with interest as she tosses it- a bone, looks like a femur- to the dog, who immediately starts slavering on it, enjoying the tattered bits of meat that remain on it. 

“We need the others,” Captain Cavedwarf says, almost to himself.

He and Federico return to the copper-floored room, assuring the fey woman that they’ll be back to help her very shortly.  It takes a great deal of effort to persuade Federico to turn back, which Captain Cavedwarf would no doubt have thought very odd, if only he’d known the little kobold well enough to recognize his utter lack of courage.

***

Brother He’s eyes crack open.  He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor about twenty feet from the stone dragon.  _That sound- just like before,_ he thinks sickly.

In an instant, Brother He is backpedaling away from it.  He knows one blow from it will likely kill him, and he dares not stand around waiting for that blow.  But it doesn’t attack him; instead it steps aside, and the passage is revealed; and standing before it are the dwarf and the kobold.  

“Let’s flee!” cries Federico.

“What’s back there?” Brother He asks.

“Come quickly, lad!” Captain Cavedwarf barks.  He steps out, seizing Sandy’s unconscious form beneath the arms and dragging him through the momentarily-opened passage.  Brother He doesn’t hesitate at all; he steps through.  Mere moments later, the statue returns to its former resting place and settles back down, sealing them in the passage. 

*Federico’s strength is a 1.



_*Next Time:*_ What comes out of a dragon’s mouth?  Plus- the fate of the missing children!


----------



## Lela

> “Oh, ah, well...” She looks momentarily pensive. “Yes, two of them came to visit me. I think they were seeking Copperdeath as well...” She trails off. “I’m afraid I grew too impatient to get their aid.”
> 
> “Do you have any food?” Federico interrupts. “I’m hungry.”
> 
> “Of course, my little friend!” She stoops down and kisses his on his scaly forehead. “Anything for you!” She dives into the pool the waterfall pounds into, and a few moments later emerges with something in her hand. The dwarven druid watches with interest as she tosses it- a bone, looks like a femur- to the dog, who immediately starts slavering on it, enjoying the tattered bits of meat that remain on it.



Well, that explains the missing adventurers. And she seems to have _Charmed_ (or something) the party's dog.

Bet she's thrilled about that.


----------



## Mista Collins

I like it! I like it! I like it! Great story. Got to love the adventures of a party of halfling's. Even though it seems the party is slowly slipping from halfling's to other races   . Got to love losing 1st level characters. Most player's don't care because they are first level. Can't wait for more.


----------



## the Jester

*The Missing Children*

“Ooohh,” Sandy groans.  Slowly his eyes flutter open.  “Ugh,” he says weakly.  

The sound of water cascades somewhere in the distance.  It’s dark, but... he feels his head gingerly.  Tender, but partially healed.  How...?  Finally, Sandy’s head snaps back into focus.  “The dragon!” he exclaims.  Then, “The bell!”  

“Shh, it’s okay,” murmurs Trinia.  

The group fills Sandy in.  They’ve been resting, recouping their strength, before trying to ascend to the dragon’s old lair.  “You should see Velea,” sighs Federico.  “She’s _beautiful._”  Captain Cavedwarf harrumphs.  

The group ascends a slippery, wet ramp that winds around the waterfall.  Wary of fallng- Ed starts crying as she thinks of her poor twin brother Coco- they take their time, moving slowly and carefully.  If it weren’t for the fey, Federico would be whining to go back.  The view is gorgeous- the waterfall is full of some weird luminescence, a glow seemingly from within the water itself.  The spray of the waterfall rapidly soaks the entire group.  At the top, the halflings go through a window and find themselves in some sort of gallery room.  As they pass through the frame of the window, they find themselves completely dry!  

The room holds a large chess set.  The pieces are as high as four feet, taller than most of the group (with the exception of Thelonious).  A quick search discovers a draconic face of copper set into the wall and covered with cobwebs.  Captain Cavedwarf rubs it clean, and then jerks his hand back as it speaks.

_"This garden is a lonely place
where many came, and yet remain
the plants grew strong on fertile ground
watered by legacies of pain
and should I plow, my plow would break
on cast-off husks of iron grain
now buried where they fell like wheat.
What am I?  Speak!  Or face the bane."_

“Um,” says Sandy, “sounds like a riddle of some kind.”

The party turns it over for a moment, but they don’t come up with an answer in time, and one of the chess pieces animates and starts clanking towards them!  Captain Cavedwarf yells out his battle cry and smashes it away with his greatclub, and it stops moving.  

“Don’t like riddles,” comments the dwarf.  

The group continues along, following a hallway lined with statues of warriors on the left and miners and workers on the right.  The dog whimpers as they move through, afraid that the stone forms will animate at any second.  Fortunately, they do not.  The hallway leads them into a large room, and they move quietly.  “I hear voices,” Sandy warns quietly.  

There’s a ramp that leads up towards the direction of the voices.  The party moves quietly up and finds it ends in a wall.  Quick examination reveals that the wall is an illusion, and Sandy pokes his head through to glance quickly about.  

The room is huge.  Floored in copper, there’s a rough slaughterhouse, a few animals (stolen, no doubt), and several workbenches.  Large blue crystals are set on tables next to the benches.  In the middle of the room is a human boy- one of the missing children?  He’s gagged and looks helpless.  A large metal cage holds a sleeping girl and another boy, this one pacing back and forth angrily.  All three look hungry, tired and scared, and instantly our heroes know that it’s time to make their move. 

Further away down the room is an opening, through which a huge carcass lies.  It’s the remains of Copperdeath, the dragon!  For a terrible moment the halflings think it’s moving- but no, something’s coming out of its mouth... several somethings.  

Goblins.

Headed by a strangely blue-skinned, swollen-headed goblin.

“Congratulations,” the thing gurgles in thick Strogassian.  Speaking slowly as if to a half-wit, its accent distorting its words.  “Today is your lucky day, child.  Soon you’ll have power.  Or you’ll be dead.  Either way your life will be better.”

Before our heroes can break their momentary paralysis of horror, the blue goblin lifts something small, blue and sharp looking to the child’s head, raises a hammer in its other hand, and pounds the small object directly into the kid’s forehead.



_*Next Time:*_ Crikey, that isn’t nice at all!!  Well, our little heroes are just gonna have to stand up for the little guys here, aren’t they??


----------



## Lela

Okay, I draw the line at goblins pounding things into kid's heads.  Take 'em down guys.  And make it hurt!


----------



## the Jester

Expect a massive slew of updates soon.  Thelonious' player wrote up a considerable bit, including the climax.  I'm going to edit for completeness and formatting and post it soon.

His picks up, I'd guess, after one more of my updates.  And he's done prolly about three long updates worth. 

He also wrote the update where Malford BS'es his way through the tale of Zuggtmoy in the Agents of Chaos thread... it's a pretty funny update.


----------



## Lela

> His picks up, I'd guess, after one more of my updates.  And he's done prolly about three long updates worth.



 Yay!

 Thanks Thelonious' player.


----------



## the Jester

*Battle for the Children!*

With a cry of rage, Brother He leaps forward to attack.  His little legs propel him forward, but the goblins see him coming.  The blue one backs away, but the others act like bodyguards, pulling javelins and stepping in front of the blue.  The human lad slumps, dead or unconscious, blood streaming from his head.

Using his momentum, Brother He hurls his harpoon forward.  It slides through the air and whizzes into the blue goblin, and a dagger from Sandy spins forward and sinks into the blue’s arm.  Heck, let’s call him by name; he’s Thimdrul.  He croaks an order in goblin at the lackeys, and then screams for more help.  There are more goblins further down the long series of open rooms that hear and start to move forward.  The bodyguards with him are starting to respond to the halfling assault; one javelin sticks Captain Cavedwarf in the thigh.  Roaring “Captain CAVEDWAAAARF!!!”, the dwarven druid rushes in and aims a wild blow at one of the goblins.  The small humanoid ducks the huge club and squeals in fear, but he stands his ground.  

Brother He is continuing to advance, but since he’s got the harpoon in the enemy, he figures he might as well give it a good yank.  Doing this elicits a high-pitched, satisfying scream from Thimdrul, and the blue drops to the ground.  The monk and Captain Cavedwarf stand side-by-side, swinging fists, club and kicks at the cadre of goblins before them.  Now there are five enemies, and it looks like there are still more coming!  Federico is slinging stones at the enemies, yammering a series of derogatory jokes at them, which heartens our heroes; but the numbers opposing them don’t look good.  Even as he considers the odds, a goblin shortsword slips past Cavedwarf’s defenses, pricking him in the side.  The dwarf feels the blade slide from his ribs and grimaces.  His muscles bunch as he swings his _shillelaghed_ greatclub again, and this time there’s a satisfying connection with a goblin head.  Blood sprays as the little humanoid drops to the ground like a wet sack of flour.  His monk ally lands a kick in the face of another, giving them a few seconds of breathing room, but the other three that just arrived rush in with a flurry of blades and spears, and our heroes are hard-pressed to stave off the assault.  

“You can’t even kill a kobold!” Federico howls at the goblins, and lets another sling bullet fly.  His self-deprecating humor never fails to bring a smile to the clan- even in times of danger.

The goblins are pressing their attack, but Cavedwarf smashes another one down with an angry bellow.  Then a spear deals him another telling wound, and he nearly slips in his own blood.  Another of the goblins rushes past the two staunch defenders and aims a blow of his mace at Sandy, who catches it on the shoulder, trying to dodge away.  And more goblins are moving in!

Things look ugly, and they only get worse when a pair of goblins springs in to flank Captain Cavedwarf.  He parries the first blow with his club, but it’s too big and heavy for him to pivot it to block the other one in time.  He staggers with a scream as a spear jabs deep into his back.  

Brother He is still putting up a fight, dodging, weaving, spinning, throwing a kick, blocking a club, springing away.  He lashes out when he can, but he’s having to expend all his energy just avoiding getting killed!  He spares a glance in Sandy’s direction- he and Federico seem to have the one that struck him under control, but that leaves _four_ for Brother He- well, and Cavedwarf, who can barely stand.  Things look ugly.  

_Spak!_  A sling bullet tags one of the goblins in the head.  “That’s right, a kobold’s kicking you ass!” Federico crows, dropping another bullet into the cup of the sling.  _Spak!_  Another hit!  The goblin drops.  His tongue poking out of his grinning mouth, Federico keeps up his steady stream of bullets and jokes.

Brother He finally takes one of the goblins down, and suddenly the heat’s off.  There are only two left, and he and Cavedwarf press the attack while Sandy and Federico keep up their missile fire, and soon there’s only one left.  The halflings (and company) graciously accept the goblin’s surrender.  At first they hope to question him; but it soon turns out that he’s just following orders and pretty stupid even for a goblin.  It seems, though, that there was some sort of experiment going on.  

The blue goblin, the party’s captive states, wasn’t the chief.  “He was, erm, blue.  Not chief.  Not shaman.  Blue.”

Scratching their heads, our heroes let their prisoner go after they determine that he can’t really give them much information.  They eye the dragon’s corpse warily; its mouth is propped open by spears, and when they venture too close to it, it gives our heroes headaches.  Beyond the dragon is the ledge where the goblins rolled rocks down on our heroes previously; and our heroes find a hidden path promising a slightly easier descent than before.  The night sky is brilliant with stars.  It looks late- past midnight, surely.

The three kids are all alive, even the lad who got whacked in the head; so our heroes release them and start to lead them home.  They’re clearly more than a little traumatized by the experience.  The girl is the only one of the three who will actually talk to our heroes.  She seems nervous and keeps rubbing at her forehead.  “Did they do something to you?” Sandy asks her nervously.  Something’s tapping at the back of his mind, some important but overlooked factor...

The girl, Tala, nods.  “They put something in me,” she whispers.  “There were voices for a while, but then they stopped.  I think...”  Her voice catches for an instant.  “I almost died.”

Sandy turns to the others.  In halfling, he says, “Whatever’s been done to these kids, they could be valuable...”

Brother He replies, “Or they could turn into something bad.”

“Point taken.”  Sandy frowns.  If only he could put his finger on whatever was bothering him...

He stops for a moment.  Looks at the night sky. 

“How long was I unconscious?” he asks suddenly.

“Huh?  Oh, a couple of days,” Captain Cavedwarf grunts.  

“What’s the date?” Sandy asks desperately.  

“Um, the 13th I think...”

“Oh crap!” Sandy cries.  Everyone’s looking at him quizzically.  None of them remember.  “The deadline!” Sandy goes on.  “The witch’s deadline!  It’s passed!  If she’s right, there’s no one left who can dream!”

Assembling themselves, our heroes quickly begin leading the children down towards Bellhold...


_*Next Time:*_ The tax collector!  And, the update after, Thelonious’ updates!


----------



## Lela

Wait, the girl still has something in her head?  Someone might want check that.


----------



## the Jester

*The Townsfolk*

The town is dark as our tired heroes descend the mountain towards it.  Sure, it’s late; but there’s _nobody_ around.  Even the Bell & Clapper is shut up tight.

“I’m scared,” Federico whines.

The party pokes around for a few minutes, not finding anything.  Nobody up, nothing- and then, coming down the street, a glimpse of movement in the dark.  A man, accompanied by the dead.  Three skeletons surround him; he wears the raiment of a pries of Bleak, the Black Sun unholy symbol proudly displayed at his breast.  “You there!” he calls.  “What’s going on here?  Throw down your weapons!” 

Brother He motions for the children to hide, hoping to get them out of the way of possible combat.  He doesn’t speak Strogassian, and there seems likely to be trouble; it’s the only thing for him to do.  Sandy, meanwhile, cautiously answers the Bleakist, starting to back away.  “We don’t know what’s going on.  There were some kind of nightmares and-“

“Throw down your weapons _now!_”

Brother He starts moving back towards Sandy and the evil cleric.

“We don’t mean you any harm-“

The man snarls and makes a gesture with one hand.  The skeletons advance.  So does the human; and in a few moments Brother He is unconscious and bleeding and our heroes have cast down their weapons.  The man confiscates several of them, then snaps, “Now then!  I am a tax collector!  Let’s get things straight- defy the me and you defy the Empire, and when you defy the Empire you die.”  He turns to Sandy.  “How much money do you have?”

Reluctantly, Sandy mumbles, “About sixty gold.”

“Give me thirty-five.”

No less reluctantly, Sandy forks it over.

“And you’re lucky you’re getting off that easy!  Attacking a tax collector is a capital offense!” 

“We didn’t really attack you,” Sandy mumbles, but is ignored.

The Bleakist casts _cure light wounds_ on Brother He, whose eyes crack open.  His head throbs from the mace blow that took him down- and now his adversary has brought him around!  Confused, he stands up as the man says something to him in a warning tone.  _If only I spoke their tongue!_ Brother He thinks.

“He doesn’t speak Strogassian,” Sandy informs the cleric, and translates into halfling: “He’s a tax collector.”

“Oh,” Brother He says.  It all makes sense now.  No wonder he has skeleton guards!  He needs something to guard him in a dangerous job like that!  And of course, Brother He firmly believes in doing his civic duty.  He gladly hands over most of his coin.  

Now that the group is on a little better footing with the tax collector, he eases up on them a little.  Though he declines to return the confiscated weapons, he also declines to carry out any summary executions.  He demands to know what they know about the situation, and they tell him the skeleton of their tale. 

“Well, this is a pretty penny,” the tax collector sneers.  “Well, I did some investigation before I ran across you and found that the townsfolk are all in their buildings, locked away- but immobile.  But if you mess with one of them, they’ll all start reacting to you.  I lost my fourth skeleton that way.  So the whole town is under some sort of spell from something going on in the mountain, huh?  And you are adventurers who’ve been checking it out?”

“That’s about right,” Sandy confirms.

”Well then, I’ll tell you what.  I’m out collecting taxes and I have quotas to meet.  If I can’t tax the townsfolk here I have to tax _somebody else..._”  He trails off meaningfully.  “That means either you, or your little gathering of the clans.”  Apparently he doesn’t believe in leaving things to implication.  Wouldn’t want any misunderstandings, I guess.  “So either you resolve this issue, or I’ll be filling my quota elsewhere.  And to make sure you don’t try to do anything _foolish,_ I’ll leave a skeleton to keep an eye on you.”

Our heroes have little choice but to agree.  

The tax collector leaves to see to his own needs, whatever those may be; but he won’t be far (we’re reasonably sure).  The party decides that they have to rest.  The townsfolk don’t seem to be dangerous at this point.  But it’s well past midnight and our heroes have had a long, hard day of mountain climbing, goblin-battling, and strange mental pressure.  Not to mention the humiliation of being mugged by a damn tax collector.  

So our heroes find a comfortable spot on a lawn on the edge of the plaza and lay down to sleep.  They drift off, trusting the undead skeleton to serve as a guard, and sink into exhausted slumber.  But the sound of fighting wakes them less than a handful of hours later.  Tired eyes creak open-

There are _lots_ of glassy-eyed townsfolk coming. 

The skeleton has already slain several, but there are more, pulling it down, overwhelming it...

“Get up!” screams Trinia.  “Get up!!!”

Scrambling out of their sleep, the halfling clan (and allies) stumble to their feet and start to retreat.  _There are so many people coming...!_  It looks like the whole town is coming out...

Suddenly, all of them speak at once.

*”YOU CANNOT RESIST ME.  SUBMIT YOURSELVES... OR DIE.”*

“Back to the mountain!” Brother He shouts in halfling.  He doesn’t _care_ what the villagers just said.  It’s time to go.

Fortunately for our heroes, the villagers seem to be slow, moving with a stiff, staggering gait that doesn’t have much speed in it.  Unfortunately, the party is extremely tired* and the villagers don’t look to be tiring at all.  The party also has the disadvantage of being short-legged and naturally slower than the majority of the villagers.  Still, they open a certain amount of distance as they clamber back up Steeple Mountain towards the dragon’s mine entrance. 

As they approach, the children become more and more hesitant.  “I don’t want to go back in there,” Tala says in a quavering voice.  Sandy, gasping for breath, only gestures back at the mob of hundreds following the party.  Grimly our heroes try to put cover between themselves and the mob, but the voices in their heads are acting up in full effect.

Then Caleb gives a great howl and a lance of mental anguish washes over our heroes, and the boy explodes into psionic violence.


*They were on the edge of suffering from the fatigued condition.  (If I recall correctly, they were officially fatigued after re-ascending the mountain to the dragon’s corpse.)  Nobody looked up the penalties until much later in the session- we thought it was a penalty to rolls, not to ability scores.  Had we looked it up earlier, Federico would have been out the whole time, as his natural strength is a 1.

_*Next Time:*_ Beginning the update sequence written by Thelonious' player!  The town’s pursuit continues!  Will our heroes survive?  Who will fall before the onrushing horde?  I’ll post an update tomorrow or even late tonight!


----------



## the Jester

As promised, here is the first of Thelonious' updates, with some minor editing and annotation by me.  Keep in mind that this is from the player's perspective, and contains some factual errors based on assumptions that the group made.  Not that I'll correct them, for I wouldn't want to let them in on it just yet.


----------



## the Jester

*The Stone*

The child Caleb's high-pitched cry pierces the countryside, alerting hundreds of villagers as to the party's current location.

"We must subdue him!" cries Brother He.  His ordered instincts detect a break in the balance of Caleb's psyche.  It is affirmed when Airhead Ed and Captain Cave-Dwarf grab their heads in anguish and are nearly overcome by Caleb’s mental onslaught.  He quickly visualizes a strike, palm-flattened, upon the back of Caleb's head and executes.  The blow may have knocked out Caleb's true-self, but not the visitor controlling him from afar.  The shrieks and struggling continue.  

Captain Cave-Dwarf fights off several kicks and immediately wraps Caleb in a choke hold, applying steady pressure as everyone else keeps their young adversary pinned.  Every second he continues to move is another second that the glassy-eyed villagers have to gain ground on them.  Nearly a minute passes before Caleb collapses helplessly, his body exhausted from a gamely struggle.  Thelonious looks at them from afar, having spent his last minute chasing down the two remaining children.  Neither one will willingly go back into the Mines after escaping their goblin masters mere hours ago.

"The beautiful fey guardian will take care of you children while we are away," Thelonious tells them as he carries one under each arm.  "We don't want to go back into the dark!" they both scream.  "Take us back to our mommies, PLEASE!"  Both eventually break free as the party nears the large hole that may lead them to safety.  Federico is the first down the rope, followed by the Captain, Brother He, and Trinia.  "Hurry," barks Federico, half way down the rope, "we must loose the villagers in the tunnels!"  The Captain firmly holds Caleb’s limp body in his left arm.

"We won't leave without the children!", shout Airhead and Thelonious.  The two manage to chase the children down once more with the help of Captain Cave-Dwarf and Trinia's wolves.  When they drag them back to the hole, Thelonious looks down the 80 ft shaft and hears the villagers approaching in the distance, wrestles with the child under his arm, and surmises his chances for getting down alive. He and Airhead realize they won’t make it without the cooperation of the children.  With punishing effectiveness, Thelonious strikes down the young boy under his left arm, dropping him unconscious.

Now its Airhead's turn to scream, as she sees the villagers crest the small hill a mere 100 ft away, and the young girl wrenches free from her grasp.  She cries out for her to come back, but there is no changing the little girl's mind.  Tears blur her vision and Airhead's hands are wet when she grabs the rope.

Much heroism courses through Airhead’s small body as she jumps down the hole, but strength of grip is not her forte.  She flails outward as she falls and barely grasps Theo's backpack.  In turn, he is pulled downward, and his grip on the rope is pushed to its limit.  The rope bucks under their momentum and all struggle to hold on.  Federico, howling with terror, leads the party downward.  He is still 40 ft above their landing point.  The Captain nearly loses hold of Caleb’s small body, barely grabbing his arm falling out of reach.

One head pops itself over the shaft's edge, and then another, and another, and another,...  "They are here, they have caught us!", cries Thelonious.  "Surrender to us or you will be destroyed," moans the growing mass of villagers, each holding a piece of sharp farming equipment.  "You cannot defeat us."

"Yes we can!" replies the Captain. "You are not right in the head and we must free you!"

"Do not resist us.  We will kill you if you do not surrender and give the children to us!"  There are now several villagers crawling down the rope.  By the time Federico, Brother He, and the Captain are off the rope three villagers lose their grip and fall to their doom.  One nearly knocks Airhead free from Thelonious, and another nearly scares Federico into letting go as her dead body settles upon a neighboring stalagmite.

Brother He and Captain Cave-Dwarf do not hesitate as they dash for the lair of the fey-one.  Federico pauses, loads his crossbow and fixes his aim on the highest rope.  When Thelonious, arms melting from the climb, and Airhead, screaming her little lungs hoarse, arrive at the bottom, Federico gently pulls the trigger.  His bolt flies true, a perfect shot that clips the rope 5 ft from the top.  14 villagers fall to their deaths, a pile of dead bodies quickly growing where they land.   Federico smiles for but a second till he sees a multitude of villagers recklessly climbing down the sharply angled cliff face.  _They will not stop till we are dead,_ he thinks grimly.  _Not even a snarling dragon will stop them from coming..._

Still, the party has a small amount of time to make their second descent unimpeded.  A mere 20ft this time, everyone eventually reaches the bottom without injury.  All sprint towards their goal except Thelonious.  He hands the young boy to Airhead and notches an arrow.  A single tear drips down his check as his mark tumbles down the cliff face.  _My secret shame,_ he muses.  _A killer of my own kind, yet I will not let these mindless beings kill anymore of my family!_

The party reaches the Stone-Dragon after an exhaustive sprint.  Dull moans and the sound of slow footsteps follows them, punctuated by an occasional thud of falling body.  The giant Stone Dragon looms over them and the party must ponder how to animate it.  There is no room to get past it into the secret passage that leads to the dragon's corpse.  "I'll pry the gem out of its eye!" yips Federico.  "That will surely get it to move!"  

"Aye, but be careful with the gem, me laddy!" states the Captain.  "In fact, methinks you should drop it down to me once you free it!"

Federico, always full of personality, but weaker than almost everything on Cydra, can't make it up the Dragon's neck.  Brother He centers himself, breathes out all possible thoughts of failure, and carefully reaches one small hand over the other.  He reaches the top and unfastens a dagger around his belt.  With perfect attention to the precise balance of force and touch, He pries away the gem... and the Dragon does indeed move.  It swishes its tail, exposing its guarded passage, and abruptly raises onto its haunches.  Federico zips with lightning fast speed into the passage only big enough for a kobold, ducking a blow from the tail before making it in.  All manage to do the same as Federico except Brother He, who clings tightly to the Dragon’s stony neck.   

"Come to us quickly!" shouts Thelonious at Brother He.  Thelonious and his adopted sister, Airhead, are five feet away from the entrance.  They look out at their new friend, bravely clinging to the Dragon's back.  He resists one shake, then a second, but not a third.  His small body is loosened from the Dragon's neck and he falls flat against the ground, shock waves pounding him into darkness.

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!"  Airhead's shriek sways the Dragon's attention toward his once-guarded passage, and it plunges a claw into the opening.  It moves quickly, too quickly to do anything that would make defense easier.  Thelonious is raked across the chest, large wounds filling with blood and pain.  He manages to remain conscious, alive but barely breathing.  The world spins around him before Airhead snaps him into motion.  He resists her tugging until the Dragon realizes it cannot get them and opts to seal them inside the passage, returning to its original pose.  Despair washes over him and he struggles to catch up with the group.

The fatigue slowly rising in their small legs reminds everyone that it has been a very long morning. .. .












Velea greets them to her lair with a sly and seductive smile.  Her cold, barren lair seems so much more inviting when she smiles at the party.  "Have you made any progress in freeing me?" she purrs.  "You know how lonely I am down here.  Bring the dragon to me so that I can have him break my imprisonment."

"Aye, we shall," says Captain Cave-Dwarf.  He and Airhead seem the least affected by her warm demeanor.  "We have a favor to ask first, though.  Can you watch after little Caleb here and his brother?  The whole village is after us and we must keep them safe whilst we find a solution to this madness!"

"Alright, I will enjoy this very much."  Velea widens her smile and all fall under her gaze but Airhead.  They lock gazes and Airhead wonders if she sees a small drop of drool form on the side of the fey-one's mouth.  Still, she reluctantly hand her ward over to Velea, who takes the two limp bodies into her hut.  

Now Thelonious has returned and speaks of grim circumstances.  “The villagers are coming!  I could hear the Dragon speaking to them, and then give way to the marching villagers.  He moved for them! We must press on.”

“Uh, beyond this is the Dragon’s corpse!”, yowls Federico.  “I saw a goblin come out of its mouth!  Maybe there is a passage way out from there.”

“Aye, laddy, I spied the same.”  The Captain looks over the group.  “We must distance ourselves from our foes, perhaps to only put our feet up for a bit.”  He and Thelonious look the least tired of the party.  Everyone else is looking out of breath. Despite the slowness of our adversaries, small legs must still move fast to stay ahead of long ones, let alone gain ground.

There is quick consensus that this is what must be done.  Nobody is excited about the 30 ft climb down to the next tunnel.  Cautiously, Federico leads them down.  He is followed by Captain Cave-Dwarf, Airhead Ted, and Thelonious.  Trinia stays ahead and the party stares in shocked surprise as she bravely unfastens the rope.  Nimbly, cautiously, but hastily, she begins her final climb.  A rock breaks from under her right foot and her left hand loosens its grip, and she falls.

The quiet rumble of hundreds of shuffling feat is the only sound that is heard once Trinia’s body hits the stone floor.  “Our healer!”, bemoans Airhead.  “We are so screwed!”  Thelonious quickly checks for vital signs.  They are dim, but available.  He is once again behind the party, staying to bandage Trinia before scooping her under his arm and bolting towards the Dragon’s corpse.

The giant maw of a dead blue dragon silently awaits them in the large chamber.  Goblin corpses and bones still litter the floor.  Airhead Ted volunteers to snoop around outside while the others go down.  “Dragons always have hidden exits from their lair, right!” her high voice echoing around them.  “Let me go take a look!”

“And I will keep watch over you from the mouth,” proclaims Thelonious.  “The rest of you hurry on.”

So they do, but not far.  Within the gut of the dead beast is a chamber containing a stone unlike they’ve seen before.  A weird blue crystal formation, it’s wavy-shaped and uneven; nor does it seem to move.  A voice rips through their heads, pushing away all other thoughts.  “You will fall before me!  You cannot win.  You will die!”

“I think its coming from the stone!” exclaims Federico.  “That’s what controlling the villagers, that’s what behind all of this, and that is what we must destroy!”  His crossbow is aimed and fired, but no damage is done.

“By the blessings of The Great Oak, I smite you abomination!  Pray for your soul!”  It is Captain Cave-Dwarf’s turn to pounce upon the glowing gem.  He holds a glowing cudgel in his right hand and it is only his weapon that can damage the Gem’s hardened surface.

The Captain swings again and again, over and over, until he must catch his breath.  To his horror, the gem is rapidly healing itself.  _There is no chance of me breaking this blasted stone,_ he thinks.  _We must take it to someone who can!_

Federico assists Captain Cave-Dwarf in securing the gem inside his backpack.  Suddenly, Airhead and Thelonious break into the chamber. “You guys, you guys,” Airhead states frantically, “I’ve found a hidden passage out.  It leads to the outside.  Let’s get out of here!  We gotta go now!”

“Aye, but I canna break this Gem that I carry.  Neither can anyone else here and we think its unearthly presence is what is causing this calamity.  We must take it back to our fey-friend.  She will destroy it, free herself, and solve all our troubles!”  

“No, I don’t think we should give it to her,” says Airhead as she shakes her head back and forth.  “I don’t trust her, and she should probably be kept down here!”

“Nay, she will help us!  Let’s go!”

“Wait, I think we should... “ Airhead never completes her sentence.  Pushed to the peak of mental and physical exhaustion, Captain Cave-Dwarf cannot stand her high pitched, misguided feelings.  He snaps, throwing her down and punching her across the jaw.  She slumps and the 2 remaining party members eye the Captain cautiously, afraid that he may hit them next.

“We be goin’ to Velea, and that be the end of it!”, shouts Captain Cave-Dwarf.  They proceed out of the dragon’s maw, only to be confronted by nearly 20 villagers shuffling towards them.  More are on the way.  Many are bruised and battered from the long climb down and all hold their farming weapons in hand.  “Stop or be destroyed”, they drone simultaneously.  “Give us the Gem and surrender.”  Tens more stream into the cavern, all eyes fixed on the party.  

“Give us the Gem or be destroyed.  Give us the Gem or die in pain to our Master.”

“Perhaps we be needin’ to take the tunnel out,” states Captain Cave-Dwarf flatly.  


_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes formulate a desperate plan!


----------



## the Jester

*Our Heroes Formulate a Plan*

Three hours later Captain Cave-Dwarf, Federico, and Thelonious find themselves approaching Bellhold for a final assault against the villagers.  The morning sun stands minutes away from its highest point in the sky.  A cool, westerly breeze chills the sweat on their bodies in anticipation of the cold sweat that will follow them into the village.  Small bands of villagers linger around, listlessly watching until the party moves into view.  Then, they slowly amble forward.

Captain Cave-Dwarf is the only remaining conscious party member that is not out of breath.  His legs ache, but remain resolute.  He remembers what he decreed minutes ago out in the corn field where the exhausted bodies of Triana and Airhead Ed lay.  _I know ye be hurtin’, and I know you be wanting to run, but we canna leave Nature unbalanced in such an evil and chaotic manner, and I’m damn sure not leaving without OUR BELL!_

They laid their unconscious and exhausted friends in a farmer’s cornfield outside of town.  This was a last resort, only taken after Thelonious could carry them no further.  He and Federico had collapsed, hopeless and crying, in that cornfield.  After barely escaping down the mountain side that led from the Dragon’s chamber, they tried circling back to the mines entrance.  “We will meet up with our wolves”, stated the Captain, “and they can take our friends to safety while we run with the Gem!”

“You will fall from exhaustion and be trampled to death if you do not surrender!” thunders a powerful voice in their minds.  “My followers know no limits and will hunt you ‘till you surrender or die!  I will tell them where you are and they will kill you all.”

Alas, no wolves, and no way to get back into the mine.  Over 100 villagers guarded the mine shaft and many more likely waited below.  Returning to Velea was no longer an option.  

“You will die!” thundered the voice again, “You will never defeat me.  I am immortal and cannot be stopped.  Surrender or be slaughtered!”

“I know who could appreciate this Gem’s dark and gloomy view of the world,” yipped Frederico.  “Let’s take it back to that Priest of Bleak as his tax payment.  Hey, don’t look at me like that!  Where else are we going to go?”

Off they ran, friends under-arm and fatigue in their legs.  They pushed themselves to not stop running until the got to town but that proved too much and they rested until the villagers from the mines came into view.  The sight of the mindlessly savage townsfolk was enough to keep them at a healthy pace ‘till Bellhold.  

“You fools! My revenge will be complete now that you have brought me here!”

This was the voice of the gem as the party entered and barred the doors to the church of Bleak.  They had dodged several masses of villagers on their way in, but suddenly found themselves in a church surrounded by fanatics.  A heroic escape was the only way out when the windows were broken by the bloody hand of villagers intent on cold, careless violence.  Thelonious covered them with bow fire while the others charged through rakes, picks, and scythes.  Amazingly, all escaped without a scratch, and fear kept them running to the outskirts of the town.  

They stopped at Othic’s farm, where they enjoyed their first meal in Bellhold, and the villagers were not far behind them.  Their own death’s were not far off and all pushed wearily into the cornfield for shelter.  Frederico could not hold himself out a hero any longer and began to cry.  Thelonious fought the tears back but eventually collapsed, raised to his knees, and wept into his hands.  “We must leave the Gem and retreat with our friends!" he cried. "I don’t want to loose anymore of my family.  Enough have died already, . . .”

It was then that Captain Cave-Dwarf looked at his fallen companions and spoke the words that brought them back from hopelessness and eminent death.  “I know ye be hurtin’, and I know you be wanting to run, but we canna leave Nature unbalanced in such an evil and chaotic manner, and I’m damn sure not leaving without OUR BELL!”

They left their fallen friends in that cornfield and sheer will brought them back into the village.  After pulling themselves together, Federico remarked that their solution lay in the maw of their tormentors.  “Remember the Bell in the center of town?  It's killed a few drunk people that were wandering around too close to it.  That’s got to be loud enough to crack the Gem!”

So back they went.  Thelonious tied the gem in his cloak, fashioning a handle so that it could be easily carried and thrown.  Captain Cave-Dwarf volunteered to steward the gem and Thelonious agreed to watch his back.  Federico would distract them as best he could and try not to get squashed...


_*Next Time:*_ The finale!!!


----------



## the Jester

*Of Sound Mind (Finale)*

The town was alive when they returned.  All the villagers were outside, awaiting them with a variety of farm tools and kitchen utensils in hand.  Their glassy eyes looked had taken on a measure of violent insanity and it was obvious that the Gem had ordered them to tear all party members to little pieces.  The Gem was telling them were the party went but it would not let them see through shadow and stealth.  The brave heroes snuck past the outer guards, through the streets of Bellhold, and into the town square.  No one saw them until they reached the Bell Tower.

Perhaps the villagers could not fully see them, but they seemed to sense them in every other way.  Dozens began to pour upon them and Federico began to put his plan into action.  Boldly, he charged forward and made himself known.  He pressed his back against the Bell Tower wall when the blows came against him and tumbled his way to the Bell Tower door when he saw an opening.  Praying to some lost kobold god, Federico quickly grabbed the door handle and it opened without hesitation.  Again, he miraculously tumbled through multiple blows that were too slow to find their mark.  Waiting inside were 5 villagers that clearly expected him.  Without a moment to spare, Federico pumped his little legs up the first of four floors that led up to the Bell with crazed townsfolk in tow.  

Thelonious and Captain Cave-Dwarf did their best to make use of Federico’s brave maneuverings but they were spotted in a narrow alleyway behind the Bell Tower.  The gem led the villagers around both exists to the alley and they charged the Captain when he stumbled out of cover and into plain sight.  With a heroic roar, he charged forward towards the Bell Tower with axe in hand.  Thelonious was forced to expose himself lest the villagers center their attention on the Gem-bearer.  The two worked in deadly tandem with Cave Dwarf charging ahead and bowling over a villager with his axe, then Thelonious dropping the next closest with his bow before rushing to join up with Cave Dwarf.  They did this 3 times and killed 6 villagers before reaching the backside of the Bell Tower.

Federico’s exhaustion nearly overtook him when he reached the second floor window.  The sounds of battle echoed from below and he new that Captain Cave-Dwarf and Thelonious could never make it around to the front door.  Mustering what little strength he possessed, he bashed the window ajar and cried out from above.  “Oh no!  Don’t go around to the front.  Come up through this window.  It’s the only way!”

Cave-Dwarf ascended first relatively unhampered.  He had a mere 15 feet to go to get to the window’s ledge but his strength left him after 10ft and there he hung in perfect position for a villager’s long and deadly farm tool.  Thelonious held them off as best he could until it was obvious that the Captain could not make the climb.  He pushed forward the closest villager, knocking her into a crowd, and sprinted for the wall.  His arms nearly gave from wear when he reached the ledge and pulled himself in.  Below, 5 villagers angrily swatted at the Captain with all their might.

Captain Cave-Dwarf hung about 4' from the ledge now and about 7' off the ground.  Thelonious could not quite reach him with his arm and was forced to dangle himself outside and lower his bow for extra reach.  With one very winded pull, he hoisted Captain Cave-Dwarf into the Bell Tower right as the villagers descended upon them.

“Run, Captain, I can hold them off!”  The blood dripping through his chest bandage suggested otherwise, yet Thelonious’ face was unyielding.  Captain Cave-Dwarf charged onward an upward while the town’s chef attacked Thelonious with a meat cleaver.

Federico made it to the top first.  The open stairway became closed off on the final turn to the top floor.  Sadly, the door was locked and his small frame could not make it budge, and there was no way to climb around onto the top floor.  Captain Cave-Dwarf arrived moments later and threw his weight against the heavy oak door.  Once, twice, then three times did the throw himself against it until the lock finally buckled beneath this stout frame.  Below, both could hear the heated war cries of Thelonious and the sound of an axe striking bone.

“Hurry, my friends, hurry lest this old woman beat me to death with her rolling pin!”  A loud thump from below seemed to indicate that grandmother carried a very heavy pin indeed.  Fighting his most in-born instincts of hatred for himself and the need to retaliate, Thelonious moved behind a corner and braced himself against the growing onslaught.  Grandmother’s rolling pin continued to thunder off his buckler while the occasional cooking knife whizzed by.

Above the fray, Federico and Captain Cave-Dwarf learned a harsh lesson from the Bell.  In their rush of excitement and fear, Captain Cave-Dwarf threw the gem to the ground and pulled the four-story long rope that rang the Bell.

*“DOOOOOOONNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!”*

Captain Cave-Dwarf and Federico fell to the ground and their cries of pain never pierced the loud, deafening echo of the bell.  The Captain clutched his ears and felt warm liquid slithered through his hairy fingers.  _I canna make that mistake again_, he thought.  _I canna survive another ring like that!_  Federico was now on the floor attempting to sing a triumphant song that would revitalizes their spirits, if not their bodies.  

In a moment of sheer desperation, Captain Cave-Dwarf flung himself outwards, hovering above everything and everyone for just a moment, then quickly plunging downward under the inevitable pull of gravity.  His timing was impeccable and he reached out his hands at the right time and grabbed the Bell’s rope before descending past the third floor landing.

*“DOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!”*

The Captain’s weight jerked the Bell’s rope downward, ringing the bell and nearly dropping him into unconsciousness.  His vision returned before his grip slackened.  Dazed and bewildered, the Captain swung himself over the nearest railing and poised himself for another pull.  Somewhere above, Federico’s song drifted above the echo of the Bell.  The Captain bravely pulled the Bell rope again.

*“DOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!”*

t was too much for him to stand.  Ears bleeding, hands desperately trying to keep his brain in his skull, Captain Cave-Dwarf collapsed on the third floor.

“Uh, you’d better come up here!” shrieked Federico.  “I can’t move anymore and I think our fair Captain has fallen!  You must finish the gem off before it heals itself!”  As he gazed at the glowing Gem in front on him, Federico’s could see his reflecting begin to form while the cracks and chips slowly repaired themselves.

Thelonious ran as fast as he could while dodging the various incoming missiles sent by the angry townsfolk.  He reached the top and surveyed the situation.  Federico hovered on the verge of consciousness while Captain Cave-Dwarf’s body lay sprawled on the 3rd floor railing.  Before the remaining villagers could reach him, Thelonious attempted to double back on the villagers by climbing down to where the Captain lay.

“Where are you going?” yipped Federico as the villagers poured into the Bell room.

“I’ll ring the Bell from the bottom!” shouted Thelonious.  “It’s the only way to do it safely!”

“You don’t have time!  The gem is healing itself!  Stuff your ears and ring it NOW!”

Thelonious was now on the 3rd floor and he could see several angry villagers staring at him from above.  He quickly ripped off two small pieces of his cloak and jammed them into his ears.  The villagers were now upon him.  Before they could strike, he rang the Bell for the fourth time.

*“DOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!”*

Thelonious dropped to his knees, unable to stand while the Bell echoed through the tower.  The villagers around him dropped as well.  The ones closest to him dropped to their knees, then fell, but more moved in to replace their fallen comrades.  Thelonious, in his prone position, saw a large cleaver raised above him.

*“DOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!”*

He rang the Bell inches before the knife struck his back.  That particular villager now dropped his knife and stepped backwards, hitting the railing with his back and falling head over heels to his death.  Thelonious clung to his life like a drowning man might cling to a floating board in the middle of a titanic storm.  He could feel it in his hands and he could feel it slipping away, quickly losing his grip against the sonic onslaught.  Some part of him understood that Federico was no longer singing.

Thelonious had no way of knowing if he was close to breaking the Gem, no way of knowing if the villagers had torn Federico limb from limb, and no way of knowing if this would be his last pull.  He was too dizzy to climb down, too faint to walk down the stairs, and too tired to fight.  He mustered every last ounce of courage and did what needed to be done.

*“DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!”*

Thelonious fell backwards as if pushed by some unseen hand and was dimly aware of the villagers falling around him when he took his final waking breath.  They had fought long and hard, past fatigue, past fear, and past an entire village of possessed townsfolk, but it would all end here.  This was Thelonious’ final thought.


----------



## robberbaron

Man, what a bunch of heroes!


----------



## Mista Collins

Bravo Bravo! Marvelous! I like! I like! Great story. After reading this I want to read your other ones.


----------



## the Jester

Mista Collins said:
			
		

> Bravo Bravo! Marvelous! I like! I like! Great story. After reading this I want to read your other ones.






For something approximating relatively recent chronology I recommend starting with my old story hour, then going to Agents of Chaos and then To War Against Felenga.  Cydra: the Early Years goes back a couple of centuries, game time, to the start of the campaign.  It's a fun look at some of the backstory of one of the now-Epic pcs from 1st level on.

Whoa- I just tried to link the threads for you and discovered I couldn't go back to the beginning on the forum jump... something screwy's going on here!  I'll try to link 'em later...


----------



## Piratecat

Bravo! Bravo!  VERY nice.


----------



## the Jester

Piratecat said:
			
		

> Bravo! Bravo!  VERY nice.





PC, I have to tell you, that module had the most exciting climax of any module I've _ever_ run.  It broke the players' expectations- there wasn't exactly a 'big bad guy' they could fight, they had to outwit it while being pursued by hundreds of villagers.  _And they didn't even have the dragonstone when time ran out and they were in the village!_

Man, you can craft one heck of an adventure!  My only question is- what about OSM2??


----------



## Piratecat

The bottom has fallen out of the adventures market, and it's hard to make any money with an adventure any more. If I ever get it into a proper state, I'll look at options like pdf - but unless FDP tells me YES!, it's moribund for the nonce.  My own fault; I missed deadline due to design and personal issues, and the world has kept moving.


----------



## the Jester

*Epilogue*

Epilogue

Across town, Brother He awoke to sound of a loud ring from outside his jail cell.  Again and again the Bell rang, then stopped briefly, before ringing three more times.  All was silent for far too long.  Brother He pushed all thoughts of fear and anxiety away and began to quietly meditate.  He accepted his fate and began to relax.

Soon, though He did not know if it was seconds, minutes, or hours, a loud slamming door disturbed him out of his meditation.  It was the Priest of Bleak, who never gave them his name, and he approached with a single key dangling in his hand.  He said something incomprehensible to Brother He, who only knew the tongue of his race.  After verbal communication failed, the Priest rubbed his index finger and thumb together in the universal Cydran sign for money.  Brother He complied, tossing him his entire coin pouch, and soon He was free.

The Priest of Bleak led him to the Town Hall.  The large doors were open and inside were his friends.  By some undeniable miracle, all were alive.  A quick tale by Ed revealed that they had indeed been victorious.  The Gem was broken and its control of the villagers decimated!  The party, once nearly murdered by the angry townsfolk, were now its saviors and a large ceremony was planned for the next day.  

“We did it, we saved the village!” howled Federico.  “Now all here will sing our tale and we will be famous.  Just wait until I tell Mama . . .”

The town hall door burst open and a small, middle-aged halfling woman started at them, cane in hand and hair in a bun.

“Tell me WHAT!!??” yelled Mama Flapjacks.  “What have you youngsters gotten yourselves into THIS TIME?!?”

Everyone cringed as Mama Flapjacks let loose with a blistering array of smacks, slaps, and kicks until they all cried for mercy.  It wasn’t until the mayor, Hob Waterman, pulled her back and explained the situation that she began to relax.

“Oh, I’m so proud of you!” she gushed.  “Let’s go rescue the little ones you left in the caves after I fix you a nice, hot meal.”

The meal goes down quickly and smoothly as Mama is an impressive chef, even for a halfling.  The party enjoys an appetizer of sweet grits, followed by a post-appetizer of baked elvish potatoes, a first-meal of grilled chicken, a post first-meal of freshly picked apples, then a pre-dessert cup of tea, finished off with the remaining chocolate cake that Mama stored in her knapsack.  Fed, rested, and revived, the party set off for the fey-ling’s cave.

They are shocked when they tell Velea that the Gem is destroyed, Copperdeath is dead, and she glares at them in a most unkind way.

“I asked you to bring the dragon back to me!  I asked you to bring him back so that he could free me from my eternal prison.  You have doomed me to a life of solitude without any beautiful men to pass the time!”  She hold Caleb close, too close for his comfort, and he squirms to-and-fro.

“Aye, don’t ye worry my fair lass,” answers Captain Cave-Dwarf.  “We be experienced adventurers now, and we shall return to free you in good time.”

Velea looks at them menacingly, but perhaps is not hungry enough to devour her last potential chance of freedom.  “Return to me quickly, my darlings, for I cannot bear being alone much longer.”

Children in tow, and wolves collected, the party returned just in time for the ceremony.  All the villagers, once possessed with murderous rage, now cheer as each party member is given a medal for their achievements, a handsome sum of 100 gp, and their commissioned Bell without any additional charges.  Mama Flapjacks sheds a singular tear and embraces them all.  “You have done well, my lads.  If only Papa Flapjacks could see you now.  Surely, you will be the toast of the Halfling Moot this year!”



_*Next Time:*_ Tho' the module's done, our heroes are not- and neither are the module's repercussions!  (Bet I had some of ya going though, didn't I?? )  Our heroes return to the halfling clans!  I think for the time being we'll stick to this thread...


----------



## the Jester

*Back to the Gathering*

The first day of the journey back to the clans, bell in tow, is a triumphant, happy affair.  Even Mama Flapjacks shows joy and pride in the group of youngsters.  She scratches Federico affectionatelyh behind the ears and gives him the bones to gnaw after she cooks up dinner each day.  And mmm-mmm, is she a good cook!  That's why she's Mama, or at least one of the reasons.  The group is happy, fairly well-rested after their ordeal at the climax of their great adventure, mostly healed (save for a few odd aches and bruises) and well-fed.  Not to mention that reward!  Why, even Mama's never held such wealth in her hands!

From the afternoon into the night they travel, the garen puffing along with the wagon and the bell.  They take many breaks to snack or cook a meal, but they still make decent time, and when they bed down Thelonious remarks that they should only have another day or day and a half til they reach the gathering.  "A quick journey," he remarks, "especially if the weather favors us."

The night is chilly but not quite cold, and at least it's dry.  With watches set against danger- the memory of the centipedes they fought by the river on the way to Bellhold makes them wary- they settle in to their bedrolls, hoping for an undisturbed journey.

Alas, on Strogass, such gifts are rare.  

When it's his watch, Sandy walks around frequently to keep himself awake and alert.  As he's settling back in, back to a wagon wheel, after one of his walks, a bit of stealthy movement catches his eye.  _What was that?_ he thinks.  Slowly the halfling pulls himself back up.  A glance around shows no sign of anything.  Tense, Sandy pulls out his dagger and prepares himself for action.  Unfortunately, he isn't ready for what happens next- suddenly one of the wolves in covered in sticky webbing!  Sandy cries out incoherently, then shouts, "Awake!  Danger!"

The party starts to struggle awake, but the spider has scampered in.  It's _big_- bigger than a halfling!  Fat and bloated, the thing's body has to be 3' around, and its legs give it an overall diameter of about 6'.  It's covered in nasty black fur.  The great arachnid hisses as it rushes forward.  Gaping at its size, Sandy hears Trinia scream as the furry black spider bites the wolf and the animal whines in pain as it becomes suddenly awake.  There's a hue and cry of activity as Trinia, Ed and Sandy spring in to attack the monster, striking with their blades.  The wolf manages to tear a chunk from the hideous spider's forebody, barking and growling, even as Trinia and Sandy move to flank it.  The two clansmates slash and poke at it, cutting it badly.  Fighting for its life, the fat spider leans into Airhead Ed and its mandibles take a terrible bite from her stomach, tearing her armor severely!*  She cries out as poison courses through her veins, stumbles to one knee and stabs weakly back at the spider but misses.  She can hear her heart pounding in her ear; her stomach feels like it's on fire.  _Venom,_ she thinks sickly.

Then Trinia's scimitar slashes down, striking the spider soundly in the head.  Black ichor spews out and the monster gives a great spasm and falls to the ground, its legs curling under it in death.

Gasping, Ed cries, "Poisoned... help!"

Mama and Thelonious are moving to try to help, but Trinia's already there.  She _is_ a druid, after all.  Pulling herbs from her pouch, she crushes something and applies it to the wound, giving Ed something to chew as well.  Ed grimaces at the medicinal taste, but it helps numb her belly, and the poison seems to have run its course.**

Grimly, our heroes go back to sleep.  They hope that was the last of the night's dangers for them, and this time fate is with them.  The morning sees another nice day, and they travel well.  Again, there are many breaks, especially with Ed needing tending, but the band nonetheless makes good time.  Near nightfall they find another wagon of halflings atop a hill, who have stopped for the night, and our heroes join them.  According to the other group, who seem to be taking their sweet time getting to the gathering, it's only another two miles- easily done in the morning.

"We could leave after breakfast," remarks Ed as the two wagonloads of halflings mingle around a fire, "and make it to the gathering by elevensies!"

And indeed, the next morning that's exactly what our heroes do.  When they arrive and it is known that they have successfully brought back the bell they are greeted with cheers and acclamation.  A second set of rewards follows, including another purse of coins and a token identifying each of our heroes as a worthy to all other halflings.  Then there's a feast of celebration, where our heroes are feted and enjoy themselves greatly, and finally the comfort of a nice plush bed.  Our heroes drift to sleep in the midst of a safe encampment of their kind, sure in the knowledge that no spider will get them here.


*This was the result of my 'colorful critical hit' system, which deals extra effects based on the damage a crit deals vs. your current hp.  (In other words, your head only gets cut off if you're reduced to -10 or less by the crit.)

**Successful heal check vs. secondary damage, natch.


_*Next Time:*_ Readers of my old, original story hour may recognize an npc who pops up in our next update!  Attack of the Dire Squirrels!


----------



## Lela

Wha, finally cought up.  Got caught up in Finals and then managed to get really, really sick.  Been busy going through projects and tissue.

 Nicely written, on the parts of both authors.  I was really gettting worried there (yes, you did fool me).

 Back and here to stay,


----------



## Mista Collins

YAAAH!! There's more..... <claps his hands>


----------



## the Jester

*Patronage*

Airhead Ed skips happily along, the bottle of wine that was awarded to her clutched in her hand.  It’s a fine halfling vintage, bearing the Redgrape label, and Ed just _knows_ that it’s going to be great!  A wide grin splits her face as she sings to herself and skips along the path between the wagons and tents. 

The gathering is a riot of color, with brightly-painted wagons and dyed tents on every side.  The folk largely recognize her, though her face will likely be forgotten by many in a few months; but for now she’s a hero!  And thinking of the letter of introduction that she was awarded (like all her friends), she knows that she can count on halfling allies anywhere she goes.

“Oh!” Ed exclaims, catching herself as she nearly bumps into a short old woman with a scent like apples.  “I’m sorry, old grandmother!”

“It’s all right, dearie,” the halfling matron sooths.  “Say, you’re one of those younguns who got the bell, aren’t you?”

Ed blushes.  “Yes,” she says modestly.  

Beaming, the old woman says, “Oh, that was so nice of you!  Well done, too- from the stories you kids have been telling it was very dangerous!”  She opens her handbag and digs around for a moment, finally pulling out a bottle.  “Here,” she says.  “I don’t need this anymore- my days of adventuring are over!  But you may.  It’s a potion of healing.  Take it as a token of my thanks.”

Speechless, Ed takes the proffered bottle.  She watches gratefully as the old lady hobbles away humming to herself.

***

“Well, well,” says Gregory Yellowflower.  “You seem to have made a bit of a name for yourself, Phenol.”

Phenol Sandybanks- Sandy to his friends- is relaxing, trying not to look nervous and doing a fairly good job of it.  The Yellowflowers are well known as one of the moderately powerful and fairly wealthy clans, and- or so Sandy’s heard rumored- at least some of the money comes from less, well, legal activities.  Not that there’s much law these days to worry about, but there are still tax collectors- as Sandy knows all too well!  

“So what are your plans now?” Gregory continues.  The two of them are in a large tent, full of comfortable but light furnishings.  Gregory is seated behind a light writing desk and is opening a small box of polished mahogany.  From it he withdraws a pair of cigars, snips them and offers one to Sandy, who accepts gratefully.  The sweet aroma of the tobacco is almost as nice as that of Mama’s famous pancakes.  

There’s a moment of silence as both cigars are puffed upon, broken only once both are nicely cherried.  “I don’t know,” Sandy admits.  “Take a little while off, maybe... I don’t really have any plans.  Why?”

“Well, it seems that you’re developing some pretty useful skills,” Gregory answers blandly.  “Skills that might be useful at times.  Now, I don’t have anything in particular in mind, but you just never know.”  He grins.  “Perhaps I could offer you a retainer?  And then you could be available to help me out with various tasks that your skills are suited for?”

Sandy studies the Yellowflower for a moment.  It wouldn’t be wise to alienate someone with the kind of connections he might have... and besides, the Yellowflowers are a pretty successful clan.  It can’t hurt to hitch one’s fortunes to the successful guys, right?

With a smile, Sandy graciously accepts a 50 gold piece retainer.

***

Ed is almost back to the wagons that the Flapjacks clan have set in a semicircle when she bumps into a beautiful beautiful man.  

“Oh my!” she exclaims. 

He’s... he’s...

Old enough to be mature, but young enough to be... well... young.  Not a boy, he’s definitely a _man_.  (Well, a halfling man, but you know what I mean.)  His hair is a luxurious reddish-brown, set in little ringlets.  He wears a proud purple cloak, a bright tunic and hose.  A hat set at a jaunty angle almost completes the picture, but it’s the dazzling smile that really tops it off.  “My apologies, my lady,” he says smoothly.  “I was not watching where I was going!”  He sweeps Ed’s hand into his and presses his warm lips to it.  Ed’s heart is all aflutter, her head swimmingly light.

“Oh... I... I’m Ed,” she gasps.

“Zenvo Dalais, at your service,” and he bows sweepingly.  “If only I had more time to talk with you!”  Somehow both of her hands have become lightly clasped in his.  She threatens to swoon.  “But alas,” and he releases her, and a poignant yearning shoots through her, “I have many things that require my attention.”  He takes a step back, his eyes seeming to hold her like a lover.  “Perhaps we shall see each other again.”  His smile again!  -So warm and open, it’s irresistible!  

“Oh... I...” Ed doesn’t even know what to say.  So she gives up, leans forward, pecks him on the cheek and runs away.

***

A few hours later, on the outskirts of the camp, Ed and Sandy are walking together.  She’s caught up in thoughts of Zenvo, and he’s caught up in thoughts of Gregory Yellowflower, so they aren’t talking too much.  They’re actually, oddly, good company for each other because of this.  But both are knocked clean out of their reveries when they hear a high-pitched scream.  The two of them rush towards it and find a female halfling crying in fear.  “My baby, my baby!” she shrieks.

Following her gaze, Ed and Sandy spot the child in question.  He’s young, probably no older than four.  Somehow, he’s gotten up a tree- _high_ up a tree. 

“What are you doing up there?” cries Ed.  Thinking of climbing makes her think of her dead twin, Coco, and she bursts into tears, as usual.  

“Kitty!” the child calls down, and claps his hands.

“Come down, kid!” Sandy shouts.  

The child looks down.  His eyes grow to the size of saucers.  “Nuh-uh!  I’m scared!”  He sits down, then looks around sniffling.  “Kitty?”

Sandy groans.  “We’re going to have to climb after the kid,” he tells Ed.  And while his face is turned from the tree, something hits him in the head.  “Ow!” he cries angrily, turning to look.

“Kitty!” the boy cries gleefully, pointing.

Sitting on the branch, having emerged from a hollow in the tree, are a pair of squirrels.  

Four-foot long squirrels, that is.  

As Sandy and Ed gape at them, the dire squirrels spit rocks from their cheeks into their hands and start throwing.

“Kitty?” asks the child.


_*Next Time:*_ A fight with dire squirrels, a party at the Featherheads, and introducing the Bakeswells!


----------



## Lela

Those may be the coolest monsters I've ever seen.  Holy cow, what stats did you use?!?


----------



## the Jester

Lela said:
			
		

> Those may be the coolest monsters I've ever seen.  Holy cow, what stats did you use?!?




Homebrewed all the way!  I'd post 'em here, but they're actually going in a forthcoming book (working title "Adversity"), so I'm afraid you have to wait.  

The book will contain not just the dire squirrel, but also the megalosquirrel.


----------



## the Jester

*Attack of the Squirrels!*

Sandy cries out, “Those aren’t kitties!!”

Even as he speaks, he’s forced to duck as a volley of stones (held in the dire squirrels’ cheeks) shoots through the air at him and Ed.  A number of other distressed halflings have started to gather, but the confusion is too great for any real organized assault on the squirrels, and who knows what they’ll do to the giggling lad up the tree?  Even if they just spook him, he could fall and break his neck!  

_It’s up to us,_ Sandy realizes grimly.  He pulls out and loads his crossbow, aims and fires- and his quarrel zings into the branch the dire squirrels and the boy are on, quivering for a moment.  He catches a glimpse of Trinia in the crowd, taking cover behind a nearby wagon, and wonders if the squirrels still have a line of fire on his friend; they are elevated several dozen feet, after all.  Yelling curses at the squirrels to try to keep them distracted, Sandy reloads with desperate speed.  

Ed, meanwhile, rubs the blood from her head.  The stone that pegged her left her a little shaky, but it also left her more than a little irate.  Not only that, she’s a _hero_ to her people; if she can’t help defeat a pair of _squirrels,_ how long will her newfound increases status last?  Not long.  Right, then.  She looks around, and spying a nearby spear, she moves swiftly to it and picks it up.  Ed takes only a few seconds to test its balance, then throws- a perfect shot, as the spear arcs up and flies true.  There’s a sickening thud as the shaft enters one of the squirrels and pins it to the tree.  It squeals in terrible pain, its blood pumping from the wound, then, with a last wail, goes silent and limp.  

The second squirrel chitters angrily at the people on the ground.  Its bushy tail snaps back and forth in rage, but then a quarrel from Sandy’s crossbow takes it in the leg.  With a squeal it tumbles forward and falls the deadly distance to the ground.  It lands with a crunch, neck broken.  

The boy is crying now; it seems that he’s come to realize that the ‘kitties’ were dangerous.  Or perhaps he’s mourning them.  Or, hell, could even be he realizes what’s on tonight’s menu.  In any event, no more squirrels come out and he’s easily retrieved, leaving Ed’s fears of losing status unrealized.

***

Over the next few days our heroes relax, sleep and eat a lot.  The gathering bell rings every morning to draw in any surrounding halflings that might not be at the site yet; as if any halflings might be able to miss the rich tapestry of aromas that floats from the cook fires and wagons of the halfling clans gathered in one place!  Our heroes are recognized by many in the camp, and are almost universally accorded a certain extra helping of respect and courtesy.  Strangers pass their pipes to the group, and even Federico finds himself getting extra good treatment from those outside his clan.  Indeed, the Flapjacks youths have proven their worth.

Ed is utterly entranced by the thought of Zenvo Dalais.  She tries to find him, and there are many signs of him; he’s very active politically with the tribes (though she neither knows nor especially cares what his political bent or ambitions might be).  However, she always seems to just miss him.  It’s a frustrating few days while she tries again and again, unsuccessfully, to track down the halfling man.  What she wouldn’t give...!

Ed’s lucky break comes not when she finds Zenvo, but rather when she finds out where he’s going to be: the Featherheads are throwing a party, and he’s certain to be there.  Excited, Ed wanders through the camp for half an hour, debating how to dress, how to do her hair, whether she should bring her friends, etc.  Then she decides she’ll have a cake made.

“The Bakeswells!” she exclaims to herself.  “I’ll get them to bake it- everyone knows their granny is the best baker since old Berry Cobbler herself!”  And in hurrying off towards the Bakeswells, she comes within a dozen yards of her quarry, who is actually looking for either of two of the heroes of the bell (a title that has, ironically, been given to the party by a lot of the halflings; ironic because, of course, the adventurers that had been looking for the missing children in Bellhold had styled themselves the Heroes of the Bell, which Zenvo, as a halfling well-versed in all manner of tales knows).  

Let’s look in on Zenvo’s thoughts a little, shall we?  He’s actually more than a little concerned about his prospects here.  

_These halflings’ customs are... different,_ he’s thinking.  _Not like others I’ve met.  Yet they seem to be almost better-off than our folk are in most places.  And Strogass’ famous taint of evil doesn’t seem to really exist- sure, it’s a harsh place, but the folk here seem largely kind and decent.  I guess the humans and dwarves are tilted more strongly to evil, and I’ve heard stories about those elves, but..._  He sighs.  _It’s my folk that concern me.  Is this the place for me?  Dorla held nothing, especially after Tengus started his damned camp.  I wonder if anyone there realizes just how fast it’s moving?  Heh... it doesn’t matter.  I’m here now, not there._  Zenvo scowls.  _And I have no power base, no _name_ here.  They don’t know me.  I’ll have to do a lot of proving myself here.  And it’s a very dangerous place, too.  I’m no warrior!  But... without putting myself into danger, I won’t be able to make it anywhere here._

Zenvo concentrates briefly, calling to mind the stories about the great ogre slaver to the north.  _That’s got to be it,_ he thinks glumly.  _I have to rescue those halflings, slay that ogre, and demonstrate both my prowess and my ability to help my people.  And I know I can’t take Durlug on in a fair fight.  But I’ve rolled around all my options here, and it’s the best one.  And if I can get Hamstring, then I can take Durlug.  If I’m lucky, I’ll be acclaimed Sheriff after that, which may not get me to my goal, but it is a good first step._

Breaking into a grin, Zenvo thinks, _King of the halflings.  I like the sound of that._  And he trots over to a face he recognizes from the fete when they brought the bell back.  “Hello!” he calls.  “You’re one of the people who brought back the bell, aren’t you?  One of the druids, right?”

Trinia looks at him and her breath catches.  This suave fellow has a certain... presence... that affects her greatly.*  He’s handsome, polite (well, at first, anyway), and he recognizes her!  And- by the trees, he’s _hot._  Hot in a mature, confident way- yowza!  Trinia sucks in a breath (_I didn’t realize I’d stopped breathing,_ she thinks sardonically to herself) and answers, “Yes, I’m Trinia.”

“Ahh, Zenvo Dalais, at your service.”  Smoothly he takes her hand and presses his lips to it.  When he lets go of her fingers Trinia can feel the impression of his warm lips tingling.  She almost lets out a sigh.  He smiles warmly at her.  “Perhaps I could have a few moments of your precious time?”

She nods wordlessly.  Trinia is honored to think that this fine specimen of halfling maleness wants to spend time with her; really, of course, _she’s_ the hero, and he’s the one who ought to be honored by spending time with her.  This won’t occur to her for quite some time, however.

“I was wondering if you could help me with something,” Zenvo says.  “I have heard stories of a terrible ogre warrior that has enslaved many of our people.  I seek to defeat him, but I know that I cannot beat him in open combat.  I need a certain weapon, and I was hoping you could help me acquire it.”

"'Acquire?'" Trinia asks with a hint of amusement.

“Ah, I do not speak of theft- it’s in the possession of an old druid.  I would not seek to steal from such a man!  However, he’s old- too old to bear arms himself now.  In his day, he was a mighty warrior of nature, and he laid low many a giant; but now he can no longer travel, and his mind is almost gone.  He’s senile.”  Zenvo sighs with regret and his next words are spoken very dramatically.  “Were he still capable, I would ask him to accompany me, but I fear that the journey I must undertake would kill him.  No, I must needs have that weapon for this battle, but I suspect that he would not listen to my words.  You, however, are a fellow druid...”

“And you think he’ll give it to me?”

“I hope he will.  It is for the good of our folk, but this will not move him; he’s not a halfling, so we must appeal to his bond of fellowship with you.”  And Zenvo smiles again, chasing all shadows from Trinia’s heart (at least for a few minutes).  “And I’m sure you can do it.  I can give you directions to his place; it may be dangerous, you may wish to bring the rest of your group with you.”

Trinia nods.

"Perhaps we can speak more about this later?" suggests Zenvo.  “There’s a party tonight at the Featherheads....”

 *It’s that Charisma of 21, that’s what it is.

_*Next Time:*_ The party at the Featherheads!  What happens when we get Ed, Trinia and Zenvo in one place at one time??


----------



## Lela

the Jester said:
			
		

> Homebrewed all the way! I'd post 'em here, but they're actually going in a forthcoming book (working title "Adversity"), so I'm afraid you have to wait.
> 
> The book will contain not just the dire squirrel, but also the megalosquirrel.



  *Starts saving money now.* 


 Great, it's a hot halfling huckster.  And he's manipulating miniture men (okay, women).  The slimeball!


----------



## the Jester

Lela said:
			
		

> *Starts saving money now.*
> 
> 
> Great, it's a hot halfling huckster.  And he's manipulating miniture men (okay, women).  The slimeball!




Heh... it all depends on how you look at him.  If you're interested, check this out: Enter Zenvo!


----------



## Lela

I'll wait until I get a chance to read the old Sory Hour before I comment.


----------



## the Jester

*Party at the Featherheads*

Six wagons hung with brightly-colored sheets of cloth form a perimeter about the party area, which itself centers on a large fire.  There is little wind in the center, allowing the aromas of food, perfume and fire to mingle like an incense.  The party at the Featherheads’ is full of singing and dancing halflings.  The sound of pipes and bells and drums trips through the air.  The delicious smells of the various foodstuffs and drinks being baked, roasted, heated and brewed make the air itself almost as good a meal.  There are clan costumes everywhere, a healthy amount of midriff and arm and leg showing, sweat building on the dancers, bonfires.  Energy builds high amongst the small folk as they amuse themselves with a veritable orgy of food, drink, music and dance.  Federico tells jokes and performs amusing tricks for a laughing group of youths.  Another cluster of people passes a pipe amongst themselves, thin blue smoke curling from the bowl.

Zenvo Dalais moves through the crowd like a campaigning politician, shaking hands with everyone.  There’s a permanent grin on his face- is he enjoying the party that much, or does he just wear the grin like a tie?  Perhaps a little of both.  He’s constantly and graciously extracting himself from beauteous admirers and moving forward through the crowd to talk to someone else, trying to make sure everyone knows him.

But of course, once they meet him they hardly ever forget him.

Zenvo’s a heartbreaker if there’s ever been one, and experience has taught him that.  He really doesn’t want to get himself on anyone’s bad side at this point, so he’s trying hard to avoid bedding all the girls and having it all blow up in his face (_Ah, the Glen Lands,_ he sighs to himself, caught by a sudden wave of melancholy remembrance- not that it reaches his face).  In fact, at least until he knows who’s who here, he figures it’s best to remain chaste.  Smiling, he kisses a young lass’ cheek.  Beaming, her bosom heaving, she tries for his lips but he turns his cheek to her just in time.  Giving her a quick hug, he moves on, making excuses that she only half-hears in the crowd anyway.  _So many pretty ones,_ he moans to himself.  _But I must not let my libido ruin things again!_

Then he sees one of the adventurers he met- Ed, her name was.  He throws her a brilliant smile; it looks like she’s been watching him for some time.  Making his way to her, Zenvo cries, “Ed!  How are you?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” she starts, and he realizes by the hungry look on her face just how much of an effect he’s already had on her.  

“Ah, I’m sorry, I’ve been very busy,” he tells her gravely.  “You may have heard that I’ve been in talks with many of the elders.  There are things that require my attention.”  He sighs.  “With any luck, however,” he continues more brightly, “I’ll be having more time free up in the near future and maybe we can get together then!”  Glancing over Ed’s shoulder, Zenvo remarks, “And speaking of things that require my attention, I must go speak to Grandpa Featherhead.  Please excuse me.”  He kisses her hand and then he’s extricated himself from that one nicely.  He congratulates himself on a neat escape.  Half an hour later, he spots Trinia.  He makes his way over to the druidess and greets her.

“Having fun?” he asks.

She nods, her eyes fastened on him.  

“Good, good- can I get you something?”

Trinia only nods again.  She’s having trouble talking to this fellow.  When Zenvo returns with a drink for her, he asks, “Have you considered my proposal?  And discussed it with your fellows?”

“Yes.”  Talking business seems to have broken her tongue’s paralysis.  “Well, I’ve considered it.  And talked it over with a couple of my fellows.  We were wondering whether you might need help slaying this giant.”

He chuckles.  “Yes.  I need the rapier.  If you’re offering to accompany me, I’m afraid I cannot allow that.  I couldn’t live with myself if I got any of you killed.”

Trinia shrugs.  “Very well.”  She can’t stop staring at him.  “Well, I’d love to help you.”

“And not just me!  You’ll be helping our folk as well!  For this monster that I’m going to slay enslaves halflings.”  Zenvo then proceeds to give Trinia a map to the druid’s cottage.  “He’s old, too old to fight, or I’d just ask him to join me,” Zenvo remarks, then, with a sigh, makes some excuses, then gives Trinia a light brush of his lips across the corner of her mouth.  And once again, he’s wandering through the party.  

A quick scan of the partygoers shows that, yes, he’s probably pressed palms with everyone.  So he can leave soon- just another, say, half hour, and he’ll have been here long enough to make a good impression for sure.  This wasn’t just a token appearance!  He snorts to himself.

Then he sees Ed making her way towards him.  She looks upset- she’s crying.  _Crap,_ thinks Zenvo.  _I _almost_ made it without incident!  But there’s always gotta be something, doesn’t there?_  Aloud, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“You kissed her,” Ed cries, pointing towards Trinia.  The druidess, meanwhile, notices Ed pointing at her and turns to see what’s going on.

“Well, yes- like I would kiss my sister,” Zenvo explains.  “Dear Ed, you’ve no need to worry!  My heart is unattached!  Listen,” he continues, “I don’t know if she’s talked to you about it, but I’m trying to get the help of your band of adventurers.  There’s something I need her to help me get to free some halflings-“

“Why did you ask her and not me?” Ed demands.

“Because she’s a _druid,_ and it’s a druid who has the blade I need.  As a druid, she might be able to talk him into giving it up, but you surely couldn’t- he doesn’t care for our kind especially.”  He reaches out and takes her hand.  “Ed, believe me- I meant no slight against you, I just needed a _druid._”  And then, hoping it won’t come around to bite him in the ass, he kisses her quickly.  

“Are you okay?” he asks.  She nods.  Releasing her hand, Zenvo says, “Good.  I must go- but hopefully we’ll see each other again soon, perhaps after you retrieve the sword and I complete my mission!”

Zenvo flees the party, hoping he hasn’t messed up too badly.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes begin their journey to the druid’s cottage!


----------



## Lela

Ooo, do I sense interparty conflict?


----------



## the Jester

*Bloodsuckers*

Trinia sighs happily, taking a deep breath of the crisp air.  It’s spring; everywhere around the party is new growth, the budding of new green on the trees, little yellow buds threatening to blossom into flowers on bushes, the bare beginnings of fruit.  Here and there the druid spies signs of other new life, too; a family of bunnies hops across the grass in the distance and a doe and her fawn are drinking from a stream at the base of the next hill over.  

Smiling, Trinia gives her wolf a rough scratch and watches him lope off to sniff and drink from the creek himself.  Ed is a little withdrawn, but no storm seems brewing at first glance.  Well, that’s nice, isn’t it- I’m sure I’m not the only once who was worried their might be (immediate) trouble. 

The rest of the party had gone smashingly (as in, quite a few of the folks involved got smashed).  The Featherheads were polite and pleasant hosts, and there were a number of wild partying youth types there (ahem, the Barleybrew twins).  It was a good time, other than the little scene with Zenvo, which made pretty much everyone uncomfortable.  But that was last night, and this is today, and our heroes are en route to this old druid guy’s hut to ask for his weapon.  Seems simple enough, eh?

As our heroes cross through the grassy plains they start moving into a rougher area where the land rolls up and down more, with occasional boulders and rocks strewn about.  The grasses are more than waist high on our halflings.  “For once, I’m the tall one,” Captain Cavedwarf jokes.

Soon the party descends into a gully, intending to ascend immediately up the other side.  A small creek and a stand of trees are in the gully; and as the halflings descend into the gully, a trio of ticks scurries out- ticks the size of... well... of halflings.

“Eeek!” Airhead Ed screams, bursting into tears.  Shakily, she pulls out her blade.  Trinia and her wolf are already moving towards the vermin and in an instant they’re upon them.  Trinia’s scimitar slashes out at the first tick, and her wolf darts forward, growling loud and fierce; its vicious teeth snap out, tearing a chunk of tough tick carapace free.  The wolf shakes the tick, knocking it onto its back!

Ed moves up to try to flank, but the first tick has already got a hold on Trinia!  The druid gasps as the filthy vermin sucks her blood at a prodigious rate!  Its blood-sac starts to fill... With a thin scream, she thrusts her scimitar at it at point blank range, slicing its thorax and cutting open the sac.  Her own blood trickles out of the tick.  Barking savagely, the wolf grabs the tick in its jaws and savages it, but it remains attached.  

Sandy hurls sling stone after sling stone as Ed stabs wildly; but Sandy’s stones go wide while Ed’s blow bounces off a tick’s thick shells.  Another tick bites the wolf, starting to suck at it audibly, and the animal gives a startled, loud yelp.  Then, worse yet, the third tick manages to get ahold of the wolf as well!  With a horrible yowl, the wolf tears one tick loose and rips its head off (literally).  _One down,_ thinks Sandy.

Trinia manages to cut the tick on her free at last with her blade, then turns to help her wolf.  Screaming in rage, she slashes and hacks as the rest of the party follows her lead.  Sandy rushes in, stabbing with a shortsword, and the tick that’s been forced off of Trinia catches him by surprise, biting his leg as he rushes by; and suddenly that whole rushes by thing comes to a dead halt.  

With a groan, Sandy tries to defend himself, but he’s so small; he can only hold so much blood.  He gives out a weak cry.  “Help!”

Ed rushes to help Sandy as Trinia tries to save her wolf.  Both strike home!  There’s a sickening spray of brown goo as the two ticks go down.  

With a groan, Sandy collapses.

_*Next Time:*_ A little rest and recovery!


----------



## Lela

Yet another fun giant version of a common sight.  It's remarkable how interesting that can be.


----------



## Lela

Yet another fun giant version of a common sight.  It's remarkable how interesting that can be.


----------



## LightPhoenix

Ah, I had that affect on women one time, but it took me wearing a tux and having a good hair day strolling into the college's science library.  The girl at the desk just kind of stammered... ahhh, fond remembrances...

Oh yeah!  Story Hour!  Great!  More!


----------



## the Jester

*Recovering*

Weak from blood loss, with only two of the girls conscious and nothing to help move the wounded, the party is clearly in no shape to travel further.  Ed and Trinia take some time to try to make their friends comfortable, but they’re all very pale and don’t look good.  

An uncomfortable silence shaped a lot like Zenvo hangs in the air for a while, interrupted only when Trinia encounters a wary male halfling examining the dead ticks at the site of the battle.

“What’s going on here?” the stranger cries upon spotting her.  “Is there trouble??”

“You could say that,” Trinia says.  “I mean, the fighting is over but our friends are in bad shape.  Can you do anything to heal them?”

“I’m afraid not,” the fellow responds.  “I’m a ranger of the hills, not a cleric.  But I can give them some simple first aid.  Take me to your friends!  My name is Martini, by the way.”  The two shake hands.

A few moments later Trinia introduces Martini to Airhead Ed, then points out her fallen foes.  The ranger changes a few bandages, shores up the crude lean-to the group has erected, and sighs.  “Well, you seem rather well in hand, other than the wounds.  Perhaps I could offer to at least help guard you while you rest up?”

The two girls gladly accede to Martini’s offer and the ranger joins the group.  Two days of good rest and druidic healing sees the physical wounds healed, but several of our heroes are still recovering from the blood drain.  Nonetheless, with the combined ministrations of Martini and Trinia they are well enough to travel and are confident in their ability to recover on the road.  Besides, they’re only a day or two away from this druid’s supposed area.

So they set out again, only to find themselves joined on the road almost immediately by Captain Cavedwarf.  “Captain!” exclaims Ed.  “Good to see you!”

The shaggy dwarf scratches his chin with a rough hand.  “Yes, well, I heard from Trinia that you were going to be looking for a druid, and I’m a druid too- maybe he’ll listen more if there are two of us.”

“Of course, of course!”  Heartened by their swelling ranks, our heroes continue along the way.  

The weather can’t seem to make up its mind.  First it sprinkles, then the sun comes out, then it rains, then the sun comes out again.  Dusk finds the sky clear.  The stars blaze like liquid candles in the firmament.*

“It’s a pretty night,” Ed remarks.

And it passes easily.  The halflings set watches, but only the chirping of crickets and the occasional call of an owl greet the cautious guards.

The next day our heroes set out early, feeling much better for having had a few days’ rest and having three skilled healers amongst them.  Ed notices that Martini keeps leering at her and frowns.  He smiles at her and looks away- at Trinia.

“You’re a pig,” Ed mutters beneath her breath.

“Have I told you how long it’s been since I’ve seen a woman?” Martini must have heard her!  “I’ve been in the hills for three years!”

The day’s journey is short; it takes them to within sight of the lake the druid’s hut is supposed to be on.  “We’ll make it there in an hour in the morning,” Martini tells the group confidently.  And indeed, by the eleventh hour of the next day the group is searching along the edges of the lake, where a profusion of trees and undergrowth has grown up.  The lake’s a decent size, and Martini immediately realizes that it’s probably going to take a full day or two to thoroughly search for the hut.

Of course, the orc ambush changes everyone’s plans right away.


*As a general rule there is no moon in the sky.  Periodically a moon will cross the sky, usually taking anywhere from a month to a couple of years to pass from horizon to horizon.  There was one not too many years back, actually.  Once in a _very_ great while there will be a period with multiple moons in the sky, but we haven’t had one of those in- well, ever, since the campaign started.  Though it’s a historically documented occurrence.



_*Next Time:*_ Do I even have to say it?  An orcish ambush!


----------



## Lela

> _*Next Time:*_ Do I even have to say it?  An orcish ambush!



 Yay!


----------



## the Jester

*Orcish Ambush*

Our heroes are following a trail that leads up to, and along the perimeter of, the lake.  The day is brisk but not cold, with gusting winds that flap cloaks in the wind and blow hair in the halflings’ eyes.  As the party descends the far side of another rolling hill in the trail, they come to a fallen tree that blocks their way.  Foolishly thinking nothing of it, they start to circumvent the block-

Howling and roaring, a quartet of orcs pops up from behind a nearby cluster of bushes.  A great battle cry rises from all of them, and they brandish weapons- axe, falchion and spears.  Their faces are painted with crude red paint.  Each of the four of them outmasses each of our heroes probably four-to-one.

Before they can even move Martini’s bow sings twice and one of the spear wielders staggers and drops, his throat sprouting a feathered branch.

Trinia springs forward, pulling her dagger free of its sheath, but she can’t keep up with her new wolf.  The wolf lunges, growling and snarling, and its teeth latch onto an orcish leg.  The orc gives a shout of dismay and then, as the wolf twists her powerful neck, the orc is pulled down to the ground with a loud crash and a scream of pain.  With a roar, both of the orcs that are standing hew at the canine and in a moment it is down in a pool of blood.

But another wolf is springing forth, this one followed closely by Captain Cavedwarf and his immense club and Airhead Ed.  Another feathered shaft zings out and drops the orc with the axe, and Martini cries out triumphantly.  The orc who was dragged down by the wolf is struggling to rise to his feet, using his spear to help lever his armored form up.  His last companion (and brother) slashes wildly with his falchion at the circle of enemies that’s closing like a noose on them.  There’s a cry of pain and Ed falls back, stumbling down on one knee and clutching at her side.  

With a snarl, Captain Cavedwarf’s wolf springs forward.  The falchion wielder screams and tries to step away, but Cavedwarf is waiting for him.  He gives out a bellowing battle-cry- “CAPTAIN CAAAAVE-DWAAARF!!!!!”- and swings his greatclub.  The orcish head seems to explode into hundreds of small fragments of blood, brain and skull!  The final orc, staggering back with his spear, gives a final despairing cry as the springing wolf finds his throat.

There’s a pained groan from Ed.  She gasps in pain as Cavedwarf tends her wounds while Trinia rushes to the fallen wolf.  “No!” she cries.  Weeping at her wolf’s poor state- for she looks nigh-dead- the druidess immediately casts her healing spells, trying to save her companion.  Fortunately she succeeds, and the wolf’s eyes crack open with a whine as the terrible wounds upon her start to knit.

Ed cries as Cavedwarf works on her wounds; the dwarf doesn’t say anything about it, but _his_ people certainly wouldn’t cry over such a small thing!  Halflings- no wonder they always need the help of bigger folk.  Martini, meanwhile, searches the orcish bodies, turning up a few coins and kicking through their smelly possessions for anything else worth taking.

Soon our heroes are on their way again, Ed sniffling as they move.  “Orcs,” mutters Cavedwarf dourly.  “I hate orcs.”

The rest of the party pretty much agrees, after that sudden ambush, that orcs don’t seem to be nice.  

Fortunately, there seem to be no other orcs in the area, or at least no other ones laying in ambush for our heroes, so making the mistaken assumption that all is safe, our heroes continue their search for the hut of the old druid and the weapon Hamstring.  If they realized that they were being stalked by the shattered remnants of the disembodied psyche that almost killed them all they might have shown more caution.  But then again, if they had realized when they had first encountered Blaze and Broadsword that they would eventually be stalked by such unusual adversaries, our heroes probably would have killed them when they had the chance.

_*Next Time:*_ The party meets with the old druid!  Will he give up the weapon?  And why not?


----------



## Lela

the Jester said:
			
		

> _*Next Time:*_ The party meets with the old druid! Will he give up the weapon? And why not?



'Cause he's *EVIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*

Wha, hah, hah, hah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


----------



## the Jester

*The Old Druid*

The hut, when they finally find it, is small and unassuming.  A small garden is outside, the flowers of spring starting to bloom.  The hut looks just big enough to house a single room with no amenities.  There are windows covered by woven shutters- no glass here!  A few chickens wander about the area, and somewhere a dog barks.  The wolves seem at ease.

A knock at the door elicits no response after a moment, so Captain Cavedwarf raps again.  Finally, with a shrug, he opens the door and the group looks within.

The interior of the hut- maybe ten feet square- has a small fireplace and a bed.  A dresser of shaped wood sits along the wall.  There are no other furnishings.  Wandering mumbling about the room is an old human.  He wears a misbuttoned tunic of leather and leggings of wool.  What sparse hair he has is grey.  Deep wrinkles line his face and liver spots dot his hands.  "Eh?" he cries, seeming to notice the group at last.  "Intruders!  Who dares?!"  He starts tottering towards them, his hand groping for a weapon at his belt (there isn't anything there).  "I'll smite you!  Murderous ogres, how dare you invade my home?"  His voice is aged and cracked, and he moves so slowly he's not reached the party yet.

"We're not ogres, sir," Trinia says, raising her empty hands.  "I'm a druid."

"Eh?"  The old man squints warily.  "What'd ye say?  Don't whisper, blast ye!"

"WE'RE NOT OGRES," Trinia yells.  "I'M A DRUID!"

"Not ogres?" the old man exclaims, peering suspiciously at the group.  His hand is still clutching blindly for a weapon.  He totters closer, nostrils flaring.  He thrusts his head to within inches of Trinia's face and his eyes seem to wander around for a moment; then he grunts.  "Well, I don't have any food for ye, so ye can be going now!"  He slowly starts to turn away and rotates about 45 degrees when he finally looks down at the hand that's reaching for his weapon.  "Hamstring!" he exclaims.  "Now why aren't I wearing it...?"  Looking puzzled, the old man slowly swings his head up, muttering to himself.  Catching sight of the party, he gives a great start.

"Intruders!" he yells.  "How dare ye!"  His hand's clutching for a weapon again, squirming blindly at his side.  "I'll obliterate ye!"

"We're friends," Captain Cavedwarf says.  "Druids.  DRUIDS!  TWO OF US ARE DRUIDS!  WE WANT YOUR HELP!"

"Eh?  My help?  What for?"  The old druid squints suspiciously at the dwarf and pokes a finger at his enormous beard.  "Awful hairy there, buster!"

"Uh... right," Cavedwarf answers, nonplussed.

"We want your help to kill ogres," Trinia tries to explain. 

"What?" the old man cries.  "Ogres?  Where?!"  His hand is spasming all over his belt, groping for something that it just can't find, darn it.  

"No, not here- not here... we want to borrow your rapier," Trinia sighs.

"What?  You want to buy my rapier?  It's not for sale," the old man states indignantly.

"No- WE WANT TO BORROW IT, NOT BUY IT," the young halfling druidess yells back.

"Borrow it??  Impossible," the old man says flatly.

With a groan, Trinia shouts, "WHY IS IT IMPOSSIBLE?"

"My goodness, you don't have to shout, young lady," the old man reprimands her.  "If that's how you're going to behave..."

"Sorry," she says loudly, trying to find the right volume.

"Eh?"  The old man frowns.  "Now don't whisper, either!"

***

_Those kids,_ Mama Flapjacks thinks direly.  Her bare feet pass the miles as she walks after them.  _I just know they're going to get themselves in all kinds of trouble if I don't help them out._ 

She's been on their trail for a couple of days and is only a day or two behind them.  They stopped for a while back near where the dead giant ticks were- the thought makes Mama grimace.  

_That damn dog better be looking after them._

***

It develops that the reason for the old man's refusal to lend them the weapon- though he volunteers to go with them, but it's clear that he would only burden the group unconscionably- is that he has an old enemy that lives somewhere in the area.  "Bromworth," the old druid says venomously.  "An enemy for all of my years."  He shakes his head.  "He might raid me at any time!  No, I need Hamstring to defend myself should Bromworth come!"

"Well, what if we slew him for you?"

The old man looks the group over dubiously.  "_You?_  I doubt whether you could.  Why, even I dare not battle Bromworth these days!"

"But if we _could?_" Martini persists.  "You'd let us borrow it then?"

"Perhaps," the druid allows, just as the door to the hut opens.

Peering in at the group is a fur-clad, wild-looking halfling.  His eyes are wide and wary as he takes in the group.  The rest of the group looks warily at the barbarian until finally the old man calls out, "Bytor!  Is that you!"

The newcomer makes his way through the throng of strangers, eyeing them all with frank curiosity.  Captain Cavedwarf nods at him and Bytor gives the dwarf a big smile.  "I am Bytor," the barbarian announces to the group, then turns to confer with the old druid.  Reassured that everything is okay, he turns to the party.

"What are you doing here?  The aged master here is past his prime.  Surely you mean him no ham?"  

"Of course not!" exclaims Airhead Ed.  "We seek his help."  And the whole story comes tumbling out- the need for the blade, the need to defeat Bromworth in order to get the old druid to lend the sword.  

"Well, if I may, I would join you," Bytor declares.  "This ogre- if he is a threat to the aged master, should he not be destroyed?"  

"Well, I suppose that's one way of looking at it," mutters Martini to himself.

"I guess the best bet we have is to wait in ambush near the ogre's watering hole," suggests Tholonious.  "Then we he comes down to fill his jugs or whatever he uses, we'll jump him."

"Sounds good to Bytor," Bytor says with a smile.

So our heroes set out to ambush an ogre.


_*Next Time:*_ Ambush of the Aged Ogre!


----------



## Lela

Eh, evil and senial be close enough.

 Oh, and nice idea.


----------



## the Jester

Lela said:
			
		

> Eh, evil and senial be close enough.
> 
> Oh, and nice idea.




Thanks, wait til you meet the ogre.  

And btw, Lela, thank you so much for all the feedback you give!  It's always nice to see that someone's reading...


----------



## the Jester

*To Ambush an Ogre!*

Our heroes spot a path opposite the druid’s hut, on the other side of the small lake on which it’s built.  Following it with their eyes, they see that it leads to a small cave some distance off.

“We could just go attack it there,” Martini says.  

“True,” agrees Captain Cavedwarf, “we could; but what if he’s got traps in his lair?”

“”It could be more trouble than it’s worth,” Airhead Ed nods.

“Bah!” Bytor snorts.  “We should kill ogre now!”

“Oh, I think the Captain’s right,” whines Federico.  “We should just wait for it by the lake and ambush it when it comes to get water.”

“Hmph, Bromworth does get water every day.  Bytor has watched in the past.”  Bytor scuffs his toe in the dirt and looks again at the cave in the distance.  “Bah, we can take ogre.”

“Well, we aren’t getting anywhere arguing,” Trinia says.  “Why don’t we break for a snack?”

The group builds a small fire and snacks on some berries and cookies that Mama packed with them.  A spot of tea tops it all off nicely.  With a happy, contented sigh, Ed says, “Sometimes I almost forget what civilized living is like when we’re traveling all the time!  Why, we missed elevensies today!”

Satisfied with their freshly-filled bellies, our heroes move along the perimeter of the pond until they reach the path leading from the cave to the watering hole.  A quick survey of the terrain turns up decent cover for everyone.  The halflings and their allies secrete themselves along the trail and settle in to wait.  From their perspective, they should have plenty of warning before the ogre actually arrives, unless he comes down some secret path or invisibly.

Bytor snorts at that notion.  “Stupid ogre just walks,” he grunts.

Time passes.

Our heroes snack as they wait.  Thelonious is very wary; he saw the ogre’s tracks all over, and even with some advance warning, he’s worried.  It’s _big._  Federico’s nose quivers, constantly testing the air for fresh ogre spoor.

Finally, after a few hour, Martini says sharply, “He’s coming,” and our heroes tense for action.  As the ogre approaches they get a good look at him.  He is indeed large, much bigger than our typical 3’-ish halflings; he looms about three times as tall and wide as most of the party.  He has arms like gnarled tree limbs, legs as thick as a halfling.  A long wild beard, soiled with mud and filth, scrabbles down his weathered face.  Long tufts of grey and white hair emerge like fingers from his liver-spotted scalp.

“He’s old,” Martini whispers.  _Of course he’s old,_ the halfling ranger berates himself.  _Look at that druid!_

Then-

“ATTACK!” cries Thelonious, and a hail of arrows and bolts whizzes out at the aged ogre.


_*Next Time:*_ The Battle With Bromworth!  Even if he is old, can our heroes take on an ogre???


----------



## the Jester

*To Ambush an Ogre!*

Edit: burp, double post.

Lela, those six emails are funny- I only got a double, but you got sextupled!


----------



## Lela

Wow Jester. I got 5 e-mails at once telling me you'd posted. Seemed showing up might be a good idea.   [Edit: Make that 6 e-mails]

Okay, so we've met the ogre. I'm thinking that with you in charge, there's going to be something besides age that makes him different.


----------



## the Jester

*Bromworth*

Bromworth the ogre roars as an arrow sinks deep into his meaty pectoral.  Swiveling his old head from side to side, he struggles to pull a javelin out and starts moving towards the source of his aggravation.  “RRRAGH!” he roars, and hurls.

Martini squeaks and ducks, and the ogre’s javelin lances over his head.  Then he draws his bowstring back and lets another arrow go.  It sinks into the ogre’s belly.  He can see Thelonious’ arrows striking true as well.  There’s a burst of green radiance as Captain Cavedwarf’s _shillelagh_ spell goes off, then the dwarf, Ed and Bytor are circling around to flank the monster.

Old Bromworth swings his greatclub as the small ones come in on him.  He’s bleeding in several places and his old body can’t take punishment like it used to.  His pot, used to gather water, has fallen on the ground behind him unnoticed; it isn’t important right now.  What’s important right now is _survival._  With a huge roar, the faltering ogre swings at the little creatures stinging at him like insects, but his vision’s fading.  

Trinia hurls her spear and it sticks deep in the ogre’s chest.  Bromworth staggers back on one leg, shaking his head slowly back and forth.  Blood is dripping from his mouth now; he can feel his lung collapse, pierced by the shaft.  He groans.  This isn’t going so well... and then the final insult: a crossbow bolt from a _kobold!_  It sinks into Bromworth’s shoulder and the ogre thinks briefly about the irony- after all, as a lad he’d eaten many kobolds- and then closes his eyes.  He’s almost done and he knows it.

Thelonious’ next arrow finds the ogre’s closed left eye and pierces it, ripping a hole right in the monster’s not-so-prodigious brain, and Bromworth the Ogre falls dead in the center of a circle of halflings.

“We did it!” Thelonious cries ecstatically.

“Whoo-hoo!” shouts Ed.  

Our heroes celebrate joyously- they didn’t even suffer a scratch!*

After whooping it up for a few minutes, the adventurers settle down.  “Well, we can get the weapon from the old druid now,” Trinia says, but Ed stops her.

“We should check the ogre’s lair for loot,” the Airhead suggests.  “Maybe it had something cool.”

“Good idea,” Federico beams happily, his tail a blur it’s wagging so fast.  

The group starts up the trail towards the ogre’s cave.  It looks to be around a half mile away, so the ever-sensible Trinia suggests they stop for a snack.  If they’d looked behind them they might have seen a lone form headed their way.

***

Behind them comes Mama Flapjacks, humming an old halfling folk song as she comes.  She’s munching on a candied carrot, and boy is it good!  Those Hodiddlys- they might be the newest clan, but they sure have some good recipes for treats!  Why, sometime the Flapjacks and the Hodiddlys might just have to exchange some favored children for a few years.**

Well, that old druid’s hut has to be up here somewhere, and by the gods, if he’s hurt the kids he’ll learn all about rocks and sticks, that’s for sure!

Marching and munching on, Mama continues her steady pace after our heroes.

***

Meanwhile, at the gathering, a sly little figure slips from shadow to shadow in the Bakeswell circle of wagons.  The figure disappears under a wagon and enters it through a hidden trap door.  Crawling up a small ladder, the figure emerges in a well-cushioned secret compartment and peers through a peephole.  The wagon holds only members of the Bakeswell clan, so the figure slides the panel up and emerges.

“Any luck?” Fandrin Bakeswell asks instantly.

“No,” the figure answers, taking her hood down to reveal her face.  It’s Chindra Bakeswell.  She’s ugly by any standard, but she’s a Bakeswell; she knows she’ll have a good husband some day, because she’s learned to make over a hundred types of prize-winning quality pie, cake, biscuit and donut.  Still, this ‘issue’ is depressing.

“What are we going to do?” moans Fandrin.

“Look, we _know_ our jams are fantastic.  Why, probably a tenth of the clan’s income is from them!  Some upstart Peachtree lad winning a few contests is no threat to us.”  This is from a figure sitting back in the corner, an aged fellow bound to be the next head of the clan names Aymand.  Now he shifts forward.  “And besides, if this kid is making some competition for us, maybe we’ve gotten complacent.  We need to win in a fair contest and show ‘em the Bakeswells are the best.”

“But _our_ jams are on the open market.  He knows what they’re like!  And we’ve never even gotten a whiff of his!  How can we concoct the proper culinary countermeasures when we don’t even know what we’re trying to counter?!”

“A sample,” the ugly Chindra says, “would be an ideal solution.  But they don’t have it here- I searched quite thoroughly- and so far the only people who’ve gotten to try it are the judges at the contests he’s entered so far.”

“Contests,” interjects Fandrin, “that he’s won handily.”

Aymand snorts.  “That won’t last forever.  The Peachtree lad hasn’t faced off with a Bakeswell jam yet.  And it seems to me that there’s an obvious solution.”

“Nobody’s going to accept a Bakeswell as a judge in a contest that the clan has interest in,” objects Fandrin.

“Of course not,” Aymand says.  “That’s why we have friends.”  He smiles.  “You know, contests always seem to get at least one local celebrity as a judge, and we did just make a good friend with one of these new Flapjack heroes...”

*Of the group present for this fight, only Thelonious and Cavedwarf were 2nd level- everyone else was 1st!  Taking down an ogre was no mean feat.  Of course, Bromworth had the ‘venerable’ penalties applied to him- which, of course, made the fight easier- but still, I was half-expecting at least one more pc fatality from this fight.  Heck, they didn’t even take a wound!

**The halfling clans keep tight alliances by swapping children.  When two clans cross paths they’ll often trade some kids so they can learn the other clan’s trades, recipes and tricks.  Especially since some clans excel at certain crafts or professions, this helps insure no halfling lore will be permanently lost. 

Sandy from our own group of adventurers is an example of this.  His full name is actually Phenol Sandybanks and he’s technically a member of the Sandybanks clan, but he’s been adopted into the Flapjacks in one of these ‘cultural exchanges.’

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes investigate the ogre’s lair!


----------



## the Jester

Lela said:
			
		

> Okay, so we've met the ogre. I'm thinking that with you in charge, there's going to be something besides age that makes him different.




As to this, I guess we'll never know... 

Actually, to tell the truth, there were a few plot hooks in him had the players not killed him, but I mostly set him up as a way to experiment with how much of a difference age penalties would make.  (Answer: lots.)  (I'll prolly start a rogues gallery thread for this group sometime... you'll see him there, probably as the first or second post.)

However, had the party spoken with him, they might have been surprised at how genteel and reasonable he could've been.  (I mean, his name was Bromworth, not Rughh or something.)


----------



## Lela

Bad, bad PCs.  Killing poor aged ogres before their time. . .


----------



## LightPhoenix

Bah, death is the halfling way!  Death I say, DEATH!!!

Actually, my first thought was they should try talking to the ogre first too... I mean, rampaging evil ogres generally don't grow old, they just get killed.


----------



## Horacio

Great story!!!

And, ah, yes, poor old ogre


----------



## the Jester

*Bromworth's Pet*

The entrance to Bromworth’s cave is heavy with a musky scent that the druids and rangers immediately recognize.  “Bear,” Thelonious warns sharply.

Warily, our heroes enter the cave, and almost immediately the bear shambles forth with a roar, mauling at Bytor.  

Someone’s knocked into a pile of rude wooden bowls and cups, and then blood’s flying through the air.  Arrows whiz about, and a dagger flies out and sinks to the hilt in the bear’s huge paw.  It roars, weapons bouncing harmlessly off of it.  Ed’s screaming in fear and Trinia’s crying out in frustration.  Bytor staggers back, clutching his arm, and torrents of blood are running down it.  With a groan, he shakes his head, trying to get his wind back- and Federico’s touch sooths and heals the wound he’s taken!  Roaring his approval, Bytor rushes forward again even as a grey blur- Cavedwarf’s wolf- seems to ricochet from the bear. 

The bear roars another challenge, rearing up onto its hind legs, and brings its uninjured claw down on the wolf with a sickening crunch.  The canine yelps and limps back away.  On the other side of it, Captain Cavedwarf bellows his battle cry and swings his mighty club at it again- to no avail.  It bounces impotently from the bear’s thick muscled back.

“Kill it, kill it!” Thelonious shouts, firing another arrow into it.  The thing’s cut in multiple places, bleeding severely from several wounds (including the paw, which remains transfixed by the dagger).  Still, it looks like it’ll only take one or two good smacks from those massive paws to kill any of our heroes!  And it’s only a matter of time- either they take it down, or it starts taking them down.

Bytor screams in rage, froth flying from his mouth.  He leaps onto the bear, hacking at it again and again, dealing wound after wound- and finally, he slashes his axe into its neck.  With a burst of blackish blood, the bear slumps to the ground at last. 

Panting, our heroes take a moment to rest before moving on to search the place.

***

Mama Flapjacks spies our heroes in the distance as they enter the ogre’s cave.  “Oh no,” she moans.  “Those kids are going to get in trouble, I just know it!”  She quickens her steps, moving as quickly as she can to catch up with them.  Ever since the winter of ’55 killed her two nieces and her nephew, she’s had a strong maternal protective urge, and she certainly doesn’t want any members of the clan to die in a cave!  Heavens, no!

She hurries on.

***

Bromworth’s cave was clean compared to most ogres’.  Not that our heroes know that, as they’ve never met an ogre before, much less been in his cave.  Although the fight with the bear knocked stuff over and created a fair amount of disarray, the place is still fairly quick to search through.  Although there are a few furs, plates, bowls and cups, there really isn’t much else of interest in the ogre’s bed chamber.  The only other chamber within the cave seems to have a heavy boulder in the center and nothing else; however, even a cursory investigation reveals that the boulder is covering some sort of shaft.

Looking at it dubiously, Federico whines, “That looks heavy.”

“Let’s give it a shot,” says Thelonious, and he leans into it.  Taking a deep breath, he pushes for all he’s worth.  The boulder seems to shift a tiny bit.  The human grunts with the effort, then stops struggling for a moment. 

“Maybe,” he gasps, “some of you could help?”

The group ties a rope to the boulder so that everyone can assist.  Thelonious, Bytor and Martini brace themselves next to the boulder itself, and they heave with all their might, finally pushing the boulder aside.  A blast of stale air, smelling of corruption, emerges, and a downward leading stair is revealed.

“Eeewww,” Ed complains, “that stinks.”

Crinkling her nose, Trinia agrees.  “Smells like dead things,” she says.

“Shall we investigate?” suggests Martini.  

Hesitantly, weapons naked, they begin the descent.


_*Next Time:*_ What lurks within the ogre’s crypt??  Plus- Mama reaches the party!


----------



## Horacio

How do you manage to keep three story hours regularly updated?  

Good job, really a good job


----------



## the Jester

Horacio said:
			
		

> How do you manage to keep three story hours regularly updated?
> 
> Good job, really a good job




Thanks!

Actually, only two of them are truly regular- the Early Years is sort of 'once-in-a-while.'  As to how I do it, well- I love to write and have prolific game notes, so it just seems to happen naturally.  

Thanks for commenting!


----------



## Horacio

Hey, you know me, I'm a true story hour addict, and I love to comment when I like a story 

Keep up the good job!


----------



## Lela

the Jester said:
			
		

> “Eeewww,” Ed complains, “that stinks.”
> 
> Crinkling her nose, Trinia agrees. “Smells like dead things,” she says.
> 
> “Shall we investigate?” suggests Martini.
> 
> Hesitantly, weapons naked, they begin the descent.



This right here highlights the difference between an average party and a halfling party.

Fighter: "It smells like death" 
Thief: "Oo, treasure!"
Mage: "Where's the Cleric?"
Cleric: *coming in the cave* "Had to relieve myself.  What is it?"
Mage: "Death smell."
Cleric: *Grins* "It's Turning time!"

And they all head marelly into the hole.


----------



## the Jester

*A Scolding*

Mama Flapjacks waddles quickly forward, circumnavigating the lake.  The party has disappeared into the darkness of the cave.  “Oh dear, oh dear,” she moans to herself.  “That dog better be taking care of them!”

***

The path down is a rudely-carved stairway with broad, high steps.  Our heroes move down them carefully, worried about falling.  There are loose pebbles and stones everywhere.  The place is moist; a trickle of water runs down the wall at one point, and a rivulet trickles down the edge of the stairs, carving a shallow channel in the rock and earth of the floor.  

“I wonder what’s down here,” whispers Ed.

It’s very dark.

While the party ignites a few light sources, Federico creep ahead, his eyes piercing the darkness better than anyone else’s, even Sandy’s.*  Scrambling down the tall steps, the clan dog leads the way at last to the bottom of the stairway and into a cellar-like chamber.  It’s crudely carved, just like the stairs, and there are rocks of all sizes up to that of a watermelon scattered around everywhere.  The walls are filled with ledges and holes. 

Federico’s nostrils flare.  He tilts his head.  _Death- the smell of death.  This is where it’s coming from._  The kobold trembles as his family comes into the room, their light announcing them before they arrive.  He’s very frightened.  His tail dips between his legs.

“Whoa,” breathes Martini.

“A crypt of some kind,” Captain Cavedwarf grunts, wrinkling his nose.  “Look, holes.  And bones.”

Indeed, there are small holes in numerous places near the base of the wall.  Several shelves are on the walls as well, holding what seem to be bones and tatters of cloth.

“Did you hear something?” Trinia asks suddenly.

A rat pokes its head out from one of the piles of bones with a squeak.  Then another.

“Rats,” comments Ed, stating the obvious.

Suddenly a lot more rats pop up, some from the holes, some from the bones.  They seem to be sidling in to the chamber.  Ed starts to cry.

Then the rats swarm forward, engulfing Martini!  Trinia screams, Ed wails and Thelonious grunts in surprise.  The halflings spring in to help their friend, with both Martini and Trinia slashing rats to bits.  The others are moving in to position.  And then, suddenly, like an avenging angel, Mama is there.  From out of nowhere- and how the hell did she get here anyway?!- she cries, “Leave those kids alone!”  and starts rushing forward!

Our heroes redouble their efforts to fend off the rats.  Many of them are engulfed; Trinia, covered by crawling, biting rodents, can’t even attack.  She screams as she tries to brush them off, and though she knocks many from her there are dozens more to replace them.

It seems hopeless, but then suddenly Federico is singing a taunting melody at the rats, calling them a litany of names and encouraging the rest of the party.  Thelonious and Bytor stand grimly side-by-side as they hew at the sea of rats around them.  Blood sprays everywhere and naked tails and half-rodents are tumbling through the air.  Our heroes are covered in bites.  But finally, enough of the rats are killed that the swarm loses cohesion and the individual rats disperse.

“Aggh!  That hurt!” Cavedwarf grunts.  Ed is crying.

“I think we need to rest,” groans Thelonious.

_*”Just what do you think you’re doing?”*_ 

“Uh...”  As one, the party turns sheepishly to face Mama.

“You kids are in trouble now!  What do you think you’re doing, coming off here and fighting rats?  You could get hurt!  One of you could put your eye out!”  Her stern face is red with anger as she lectures them.

“But Mama,” says Ed, “it was for the good of our people.  We just wanted to help.”

“You need to listen to your elders!  They’ll tell you how you can help!  And look at you- you’re all bit up and bleeding.”

“Mama,” asks Thelonious shyly, “you didn’t happen to bring any of your prize-winning banana nut muffins?”

“Of course I did, dear,” Mama says, and with a sigh and a snack all wrongs are forgiven.


*As a stout (halfling subrace), Sandy has low-light vision; the kobold has, of course, darkvision.


_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes have an unfortunate learning experience involving leaving holes open.


----------



## the Jester

*A Scolding*

Oops, double post again... darn!

Well, the bright side is that encourages me to work on another update...


----------



## Lela

_Holes_, why is it always _Holes_.

 Alas, the memories. . .


----------



## the Jester

*A Lesson About Leaving Mysterious Holes Open*

Softly bedded down for the night, our heroes are asleep.

Except, of course, for the one on watch- at this point in the night, it’s Captain Cavedwarf.

The ogre’s cave is fairly cold; he’s walking around to keep warm.  It’s dark, but dwarves don’t have a problem with that.  So when he catches a glimpse of shambling movement and whirls to confront whatever it is, he instantly realizes, _We should have plugged the hole back up!_  He screams a warning.

It’s big.

The stink of rotten flesh, of corruption, rolls off the thing.  Greasy gobbets of flesh hand from old wounds.  Easily eleven feet high, the thing strongly resembles Bromworth; but where Bromworth was clearly alive, this hideous thing is clearly undead.

Cavedwarf’s wolf is growling fiercely, and as the giant zombie stumbles towards our heroes (now blearily opening their eyes and gagging on the stench) the wolf lunges forward, tearing at the zombie’s leg.  Federico is barking and yipping in fear as a chorus of terrified cries and shrieks rises from the halflings.

Captain Cavedwarf springs forward and swings his club, but he stumbles over someone’s blanket and almost trips.  He catches himself but almost falls, then watches in horror as the zombies reaches down and crushes the wolf, snapping its spine in an instant.  There’s a final yelp from the wolf, and then nothing more as the zombie casually tosses the body aside.  Gritting his teeth, the Captain swings again, and this time he connects, but his club barely hurts it!  Everyone else is struggling to their feet, drawing out weapons and such; _It’s me and it for another few seconds,_ Cavedwarf gloomily realizes.

“Back off, you!  Leave those kids alone!” cries the voice of Mama Flapjacks.  She’s in the corner, brandishing her holy symbol like purse held as a weapon.  She prays her faith will be strong enough to drive it away; but it’s too big for her small stature.

The ogrish zombie ignores the symbol and Mama’s attempt to drive it off; it brings a huge club of rotten wood down on Captain Cavedwarf’s head.  “ARGH!” the Captain yells, staggering and reeling.  Daggers keep flying at the monster, but they’re just bouncing off or missing.  _Need help here,_ Cavedwarf grunts to himself.

Ed lights a torch.  Their weapons don’t seem to be doing much.  Maybe fire will scare it off or hurt it!  Tears streaming down her face, she pulls the torch up and prepares to strike if the zombie should come close enough.

Finally a dagger lands deeply in the zombie, sinking almost to the hilt.  Trinia cheers her throw; but the zombie is so big, and her dagger is so small, that it doesn’t even slow the monster down.  Then Mama throws a handful of rocks at the monster, pelting it with several, even as it swings its heavy club at her!  With a yelp, she dodges out of the way.  

Bytor and Thelonious move to flank the monster and start hacking at it, and finally our heroes start to make some headway!  Their axe and sword combo seems to deal severe damage to the zombie, and Captain Cavedwarf realizes, _Its flesh is tough and resistant to my attacks, but their slashing weapons seem to work fine!_  With a savage roar and a grin, he pulls out a hunting knife.

Now the things is surrounded by Thelonious, Bytor, Ed (with her torch) and Cavedwarf (with a knife).  It swings at first one of them and then another, but they keep darting in and out and avoiding its blows!  More and more slashes and burns are landing on the ogre, and finally, with a whoop, Bytor lands a final flow on the side of the monster and it collapses.  Putrescent gasses rise from the corpse. 

“Whew, that stinks,” Trinia complains.

Gasping, our heroes gather up their stuff and exit the cave.  “Let’s rest outside,” suggests Bytor.  “But first, we should go plug that hole again!”

They do so.  No other horrors have yet emerged from the lower levels; so nothing ambushes them as they roll the boulder back into place over the hole.  Then they go back outside, to where they can see the stars, and rest for a couple of days.

_*Next Time:*_ Into the Ogre’s Crypt!


----------



## Lela

Ogre, ogre, who's got the ogre?


----------



## the Jester

*The Party Meets Some Wandering Adventurers*

After a few days, Trinia has grown restless.  She and Brother He wander from the group’s camp to forage and stumble across two passing armored adventurers named Ezra and Sam.  They seem an odd pair; Sam (a dwarf) it later turns out is neither male nor female but a little bit of both.*  Trinia has seen such hermaphrodites in animals from time to time, but never in a humanoid before, and she can’t help but feel a small amount of professional fascination.

While most of the rest of our heroes rest a little longer, Trinia, He, Sam and Ezra decide to explore a little more of the crypt.  The four of them first uncover and then descend into the hole that the ogrish zombie had emerged from.  Trinia’s wolf follows behind, snuffling around warily.  The squeaking of rats is still evident as they reach the first chamber, though most of the many rat bodies have been gnawed or devoured.  

“Let’s hope it was just rats that did that,” murmurs Trinia.  Brother He nods.  

The group explores a little.  The south end of the passage has an exit that splits like an inverted Y; one passage leads to some kind of crude altar while the other leads to an open chamber.  The two rooms connect, and from the connecting point another passage leads.  The group moves forward, unaware that they’ve been heard.

The passage leads into a room with some sort of pool of water in it.  Little wisps of steam rise from the pool.  And suddenly, a little winged figure pops out of it, giggles, and opens its mouth.  A cloud of scalding water rolls over the four adventurers!  They yelp in pain as their flesh burns.

Brother He reacts first, leaping forward and lashing out with a flurry of kicks and blows!  He lands two blows on the little watery creature, but to his dismay he can’t seem to harm it!  Trinia and her wolf both attack it as well, but it darts out of the way of both blows.  It laughs gleefully and cries, “Fools!  None may pass me without paying my toll!”  

The party draws back for an instant.  “What’s your toll?” Ezra asks.

“You will each pay me 20 pieces of gold!” the mephit squeals gleefully.

“No way!” Sam barks.  “You guys aren’t really thinking of paying this little creep?”

“I can’t hurt it,” Brother He says calmly.

“That’s right!” the little creature screeches.  “So pay up or go away!”

Grumbling, our heroes pay the toll.  Sam and Azekia, being broke 1st-level adventurers, haven’t enough money; so Trinia and Brother He loan them the money, hoping that they’ll be paid back later from any treasure they might find.

Beyond the mephit they approach a four-way intersection.  “The walls are a little better-worked here,” remarks Sam idly as they walk, his (her?) dwarven eye easily picking out such details.

“Which way do you think we should go?” wonders Ezra.  Then, suddenly, something that looks for all the world like a vein of minerals on the wall snaps out to strangle him!  The human gasps and clutches at the vine, trying to pry it from around his throat.

Sam pulls out an axe and swings.  Trinia’s scimitar, too, slashes out.  The vine is cut free almost instantly, and Ezra is freed from its rough grip.  “Thanks,” he gasps.

“Assassin vine,” Trinia says in wonder.  “I’ve never seen one of the underground variety before.”

“Keep your eyes open,” Sam scowls.

To either side, it turns out, are burial chambers, with a heavy stone sarcophagus in each.  These are clearly ‘special’ burial chambers, rather than the simple shelves of bones the first room held.

“Should we open one of ‘em up?” wonders Sam.

“Yeah, let’s,” Ezra answers, and tries to do so; but the lid is _heavy,_ so the others throw their strength in as well and soon push the lid aside.

“Well, well, would you look at that!” says Sam.

Beneath the lid is no body; only a ladder leading down from an empty coffin.





*These two were drop-in one time players.  Sam’s player got quite ‘creative’ with her character, without any help from anyone else.



_*Next Time:*_ Down the ladder, to where the architecture is noticeably different!


----------



## Lela

Dwarven weirdness again.

I like the ladder thing. I think I know where to use that . .


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Yay, got caught up in this and enjoyed it muchly.

Add me to the ranks of enjoying readers.


----------



## the Jester

*Poison!*

Nervously, the four adventurers descend further, clambering carefully down the rusty ladder that drops from within the sarcophagus.  At the bottom is an oval chamber, about 35’x25’.  Rubble chokes several areas of the floor and one section of wall seems partially collapsed.  A single door, much better made than the ogrish architecture the party has seen thus far, seems to be the only exit. 

“All right,” breathes Trinia.  “Let’s go.”

Ezra steps up and opens the door.  Beyond it is a hall, but what a difference from the previous halls above!  The wall stones are cut square and tidy rather than being crudely carved, the door slides neatly into place rather than resting roughly in a frame that it doesn’t fit very well.

To the left is a door; to the right is a pile of rubble- and, in the rubble, movement.

“Look out!” cries Brother He.

Then two scorpions as long as a man scuttle forward, snapping their claws, jabbing forward with their stingers.  Sam cries out in fear as the arachnids tear into both Trinia and him (? her?).  Brother He leaps up, his leg snapping out and connecting with one’s head, while the others duel the second scorpion with their blades.  The snapping claws deal horrible wounds, ripping a chunk of Brother He’s side free.  Blood pours down his torso as he grits his teeth, fighting past the pain to aim a chopping blow of his hand at the scorpion’s eye.  The other jabs its stinger forward, pricking Ezra.  Ezra jabs back with his blade, slicing open the creature’s carapace around its foremost leg.  It snaps again at him, but he dances back, the venom in the wound in his chest burning like the devil.

_Crack!_  Ezra’s sword finishes the first scorpion, and a moment later Trinia’s scimitar slashes the other one down.  Breathing hard, bleeding and poisoned, our heroes retreat. 

“Best we go back above,” groans Brother He, his vision swimming.  “Need to rest again.”  He leans against the wall for a moment. 

Trinia nods.  “I think you’re right.  We’d best wait for the others to be ready, too... we’re too few.”

Our heroes take the ladder back up, Brother He veritably dragging himself and Ezra barely able to make it in his envenomed state.  They close the sarcophagus tight- hoping to avoid repeating previous mistakes- and stagger back up and out of the cave to rest. 

The next morning Sam and Ezra take their leave of our heroes.  They’re en route to something perhaps more lucrative, and though they wish the halflings well, they’ve not much to do with the small folk.  “If we meet again, however,” Sam says gruffly, “I’ll remember that you treated me better than most.”  With a curt nod, the dwarven hermaphrodite leaves, Ezra following along behind.


_*Next Time:*_ Back down into the crypt!  What yet lurks within it?


----------



## Lela

_Stabby stabby!_


----------



## the Jester

*A Little Soap*

A day after their encounter with the wandering adventurers, our heroes resume their exploration of the crypt.  Creeping back down the stairs, the band of adventurers returns to the sarcophagus with the descending ladder and, nervously, clamber down it.

“This place is _filthy,_” Mama comments, distaste evident in her voice.  

The door that leads to the hall where the scorpions assailed the group earlier remains open, half-blocked by chunks of rock.  Cautiously, Brother He peers past the door; all he can make out are the pair of doors to the left and the corpses of the vermin the group had already slain.  Quietly, the group moves to the first door- only to find it stuck.

“It’s because of all the dirt,” Mama Flapjacks tells them after Brother He bashes at it with his shoulder for a moment or two.

Federico whimpers, “Maybe we should just go back upstairs.  Maybe we aren’t meant to get in there!”  His tail is tucked between his legs and he trembles like a, well, small dog.

Mama snorts at the clan’s pet disdainfully.  “All it will take is a little soap,” she says primly, pulling her backpack over her shoulder.  “Let me see...”  She digs around for a moment or two, finally exclaiming in triumph as she pulls out a bar of soap.  Squirting some water on the door frame, she sets to working up a lather of suds.  Soon she proclaims the door as ready as it’s going to get and Brother He puts his shoulder against it again.  This time he feels it start to slip, and throwing his meager weight into it, he forces it open at last!

Only to be confronted with a horrible wailing sound.  “SCREEE! SCREE! SCREEEEEE!!!”

“Shriekers!” Brother He calls over the noise.  Slowly they pull the door shut, and a few minutes later the noise cuts out.

“We could destroy them,” Brother He suggests after the shrieking stops.

“Or just ignore them,” whines Federico.  

“Well,” Mama muses, “shrieker stew can be mighty good... but I don’t have the other ingredients.  Still... in case we come across some ginger, I do have the onions and bell peppers, and I think a little sprouts...”

So the halflings move in, easily destroying the shriekers.  But even as they finish their task, with Mama holding her torch in one hand and her mace in the other, something out of sight in the corner of the ceiling quivers and starts to move, slowly oozing forth.  Nearly silent, it creeps forward towards Mama Flapjacks’ unsuspecting back....



_*Next Time:*_ The ooze attacks!


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Ye gods! You put _Crothian_ in this campaign?


----------



## Lela

No, not mama.  _Not mama!_


----------



## the Jester

*Attack of the Ooze!*

“AIIIEEE!!!!”

With Mama’s scream, the party whirls is a flurry of disorganized jumpy confusion.  “What’s happening?” someone screams, and someone else sounds like she’s crying.  

Mama swings her mace and screams again as it dissolves into slag in seconds.  The oozing horror that’s trying to eat her is flowing forward at her again, and she waves the torch she’s carrying at it, but it almost gets her hand as it consumes the torch.  Darkness descends on the group!  Then Brother He* yanks her out of harm’s way and interposes himself between Mama and the ooze, lashing out at it with a kick that burns his foot.

The monster strikes, a grey pseudopod reaching out and smacking Brother He, then grappling him and burning him terribly!  Gritting his teeth, Brother He exerts himself heroically and manages to burst free!  The effort is too much for him, however, and he collapses.**

Then a pair of missiles shoot out, Federico’s dagger and Mama’s bolt both striking the ooze, puncturing it; fluid leaks freely from it.  Already damaged from its first meeting with Mama and Brother He’s kick, the ooze quivers and tries to withdraw; but the quarrel sticking into it catches on the floor and tears, and suddenly there’s a hole in the bottom of the ooze’s membranous skin almost as big as the ooze itself.  Its cytoplasm spills out explosively and it dies.

“That was scary,” Federico complains as Mama heals the valiant Brother He.  

Our heroes search around a little; a number of odd fungi are in the chamber, some of which are good eating, so they harvest a few for later.  There are a few old bodies, long since consumed as fuel for the grey garden; but some equipment remains.  The group finds some half plate of extraordinary quality, sized for a halfling or gnome.  There are also a longspear and a staff of small size, as well as a few items sized for a larger wielder.

Better yet, Federico finds a smut-covered ornate chest, studded with gems and graven precious metals.  “If we clean this up it would probably be worth something,” the kobold suggests.  Within the chest are about two thousand silver coins.  Our heroes congratulate themselves on a worthwhile haul.

There are still another two doors to explore; our heroes proceed to the next.


*Bear in mind that Brother He is a deep halfling and therefore has darkvision.

**He was at 0 when he made his attempt to burst free, which succeeded, but dealt 1 point of damage to him.  Dramatic moment!


_*Next Time:*_ An enemy our heroes cannot defeat!


----------



## Lela

> **He was at 0 when he made his attempt to burst free, which succeeded, but dealt 1 point of damage to him. Dramatic moment!




Sucks, but what else can you do in that situation?


----------



## CelticWolf

Finally got to read this thread all the way through - good stuff!  Well-written, good story, interesting characters - all in all a good read.  I like the characterizations especially - sounds like your players are a fun and interesting bunch...

Keep up the good work!

C.W.


----------



## the Jester

*The Foe They Couldn't Hurt!*

The next door opens to reveal a room with trophies- animal and human heads- mounted on the walls.  A few old, decayed weapons are likewise displayed.  “Oh, this place is so dirty, watch out, kids,” Mama chides, stepping in and looking around warily. 

Something moves with a metallic scraping sound, lunging from the shadows in the corner of the room.  Serpentine in form but clearly made of metal, it lunges at Mama, narrowly missing her!  She gives a dismayed yell- ambuscaded _again!_

Federico starts singing in a warbling, yipping voice, helping his clan focus on victory.  Brother He leaps forwards, his hand chopping out at the iron cobra, but though he hits it he clearly doesn’t damage it!

“Watch out,” he cries.  “It’s pretty tough!”  He dances around it, but it lunges not at him, but rather at Mama again, and this time its vicious bite hits with surprising force!  Mama feels a burning sensation as the snake’s mechanical fangs pump some sort of poison into her and she yelps with dismay.

Federico starts trying to hit it with missiles, first hurling his dagger and then firing his crossbow.  Nothing he does- nothing any of them do!- seems to hurt it!  

The snake lunges at Brother He, and he flips adroitly aside, dodging its blow.  “I don’t think we can hurt this thing!” he says.

Mama scowls, pulling a large sack from her belt.  “There’s more than one way to skin a snake,” she says.  “Grab it!  We’ll tie it up in a sack and leave it under a rock!”

Brother He nods, lunging at the metal snake.  It moves quickly, drawing back out of his reach and then striking in; but he is just as quick, maybe quicker, evading the cobra’s strike and snatching it about the neck!  “Got it!” he cries, wrestling with the writhing iron cable of its body.

Quickly they manage to get it into the bag and tie it shut.  Then Brother He and Mama put a large piece of rubble on top of it, followed by another and another; and finally, it seems as though any danger of it getting out of the sack is past.

A search doesn’t turn up anything worth taking; so our heroes proceed to the final door, which leads to an old bedroom.  It’s in pretty bad shape; again, there isn’t much worth taking (though they do find a few cheap glass gems and Federico takes some crushed velvet from within a drawer to attach to his hat).

“I think we’ve explored this place pretty thoroughly,” Brother He comments.  “We should return to the old druid with Bromworth’s head and get Hamstring, the sword we came for.”  The others nod, and the group returns to the old druid’s cabin.  As they approach they can hear horrendous coughing; and once they go inside they find that the old man is on the very edge of death.  His rheumy eyes don’t see so well; he clutches Mama’s arm as she approaches his sick bed and wheezes something to her.  He seems to think she’s someone else. 

”The map,” he gasps.  “Beneath the green stone.  At the well, south of Bellhold... cough cough...”  His licks his lips one last time, gives out a final gasp, and expires.

“Uh,” says Trinia, “what about Hamstring?”

A search of the old man’s cabin turns up a small rapier quite quickly; and it’s back on the road for our heroes, after a night’s stay in his cabin (they bury the body of the dead druid as a sign of respect, but being primarily kind of lazy halflings they don’t dig too deep).  In the morning they have a big breakfast before they leave; then, a few hours down the road they stop for elevensies.

Well-fed, rested, content, our heroes set off whistling for Bellhold, since it’s on the way to the gathering site.



_*Next Time:*_ Brother He starts developing his own style of combat!


----------



## Lela

What was with the snake?  DR or hardness?


----------



## the Jester

Lela said:
			
		

> What was with the snake?  DR or hardness?




It was an iron cobra from FF- it had DR 5/adamantine, which our poor lil halflings couldn't get through!


----------



## Lela

Hehe!  That's got to be embarrassing.  Impressive that they found another way around it.


----------



## the Jester

*Denoument*

Just a quick one this time. 




Bellhold, naturally enough, remembers our heroes.  They are greeted with smiles and cheer.  They have a nice day hanging about Wyrmcall Plaza, the great central square of town that the bell tower our heroes used to destroy the strange crystal from the dragon’s gut stands over.

“Hello, friends!” a voice calls.  Our heroes look about and find themselves being addressed by a short, scrawny gnome with an oily moustache.  He bears a rack of some sort of odd-looking, exceptionally short canes with canvas upon them.  “Perhaps I can interest you in a fantastic gnomish innovation?”

“Innovation?” queries Brother He.

“Behold!” the gnome cries.  “I present to you- the _rainshield!_”  And with a flourish, he pulls one of the canes from his rack and does something to the handle- and the top pops open into an almost-flat disc.  It’s easy to see, knowing the name, exactly what it’s for.

“Wow!” Federico exclaims.

“What genius,” breathes Mama.

“I’ll take one,” Brother He says decisively.  His head is already spinning with the possibilities.  “Come, let us talk.”

In the end, he buys one of the rainshields for now and commissions a special, telescoping one that he will be able to use as a weapon.  From that point forward, he starts testing stances, examining rainshield moves, and otherwise begins developing what can only be called Rainshield Style.

A few days later and a few platinum richer (for the town’s gratitude for the party’s actions in destroying the dragon stone remains immense) our heroes head back to the halfling moot, and soon enough they are back with their own.  The annual meeting is officially over, but as always, several wagons remain behind to trade, gossip, plan marriages and alliances, and trade members.  Among these are a trio of Bakeswell wagons, and it is here that our heroes’ next adventure shall begin.

But for now, there are several lazy days of games, dancing and smoking, fine food and drink, and long naps.  Just what a halfling wants.

_*Next Time:*_  Well, I heard that those Peachtrees have a jam that’s making quite an impression on the contest circuit.  I tell you true, it’s won almost every contest it’s been entered in!  And speaking of jam contests, there’s a big one coming up at the end of the summer, you know the one- they have it every year.  And I tell you true, if that upstart Benjy Peachtree’s jam beats out mine (which, by the way, has won the last three years)- well!


----------



## Lela

I'm so using the rainshield in my next session.  I've got the perfect place for it.


----------



## omrob

the Jester said:
			
		

> _*Next Time:*_  Well, I heard that those Peachtrees have a jam that’s making quite an impression on the contest circuit.  I tell you true, it’s won almost every contest it’s been entered in!  And speaking of jam contests, there’s a big one coming up at the end of the summer, you know the one- they have it every year.  And I tell you true, if that upstart Benjy Peachtree’s jam beats out mine (which, by the way, has won the last three years)- well!




Oh yes! We be jammin'


----------



## the Jester

*That Peachtree Upstart*

A few facts about halfling life: the clans all get along together, yes, and there is very rarely a bad disagreement among them; but there certainly is a healthy degree of competition!  As this is halflings we’re talking about, a lot of this competitive element comes out in ways like baking, cooking, brewing or eating contests.  Great favor is bestowed upon the clans that habitually produce the finest foods and beverages and pipeweed; in fact, of the six most powerful clans, four (the Bakeswells, Peachtrees, Hempflowers and Barleybrews) gained much of their prestige through such means.  Many of the intermediate clans rose from obscurity through similar means (including, of course, the Flapjacks).  

For the last six years running, a particularly grand contest has been the annual Summer Jam Festival’s jam contest.  One of the greatest reasons for the grandness of the contest has been the sweet taste of victory- for six years running, victory has fallen to the Bakeswells and their black raspberry jam with just a hint of olalaberry and dream berry in it.

This year, although the contest is still some time away, there’s another contender who has shown a worrisome level of success.  A young upstart by the name of Benjy Peachtree has shown up several more traditionally respected jam makers in smaller contests- testing the waters, as it were.  

It isn’t that anyone wants him out of the contest; it’s just that the Bakeswell jam is widely distributed and easily available on the market.  This new upstart Peachtree lad’s jam has never been tasted outside of his clan and the judges in the contest.  That’s not fair to the Bakeswells, of course; how can one concoct the proper culinary countermeasure to something when one has never sampled it? 

So informed by the clan matron of the Bakeswells, our heroes easily agree to see what they can do.  Perhaps, in one of the smaller contests that are forthcoming, they can manage to get someone (such as Mama Flapjacks) onto a panel of judges...?

And indeed, there is another small contest coming up.  

Our heroes set out to execute their plan.


_*Next Time:*_ Well, if that ain’t a halfling adventure, I don’t know what is!  Jam Session!


----------



## the Jester

I just thought y'all might be interested in a few notes on the clans.

*The Halfling Clans of Strogass:*

_Major Clans (at least 500 halflings):_

The Bakeswells- famous for the quality of their food; next head will be Aymand
The Peachtrees
The Barleybrews- known for their fine halfling beers; rambunctious twins
The Hempflowers
The Goodwheels
The Hodiddlys- most recent clan, consists of followers and descendants of ‘Great Grandpa’ Illypum Hodiddly, a notable bard of amazing rhetorical skill

_Clans of Moderate Power (at least 200 halflings or special resources):_

The Flapjacks
The Peacebonds
The Slingers- famous for their missile ability (sling & thrown)
The Daisyblooms
The Piemakers
The Goldfields
The Gooddays
The Redgrapes
The Lenders
The Warmhearths
The Sangedrakes- weirdoes
The Sandybanks- mainly Stouts; prefer areas near water
The Laughletters
The Drywalls- desert dwelling clan from the fringes of the Grey Waste
The Slysneaks- a far-spread group infamous for their ‘adventurers’

_There are over 150 small clans, usually numbering between 20 and 50 folk (though a few approach moderate status and have larger populations)._


----------



## the Jester

*Our Heroes Have Old Enemies Already??*

It’s a four day trip to Blackwood, which is a wee town that’s hosting a jam contest in the upcoming weeks.  Our heroes make the journey easily, with no trouble or noteworthy encounter.  Brother He continues to practice using the rainshield as a stylistic device, working to create katas for it.  

When they finally reach Blackwood, they find that it’s a pretty small town.  There are two taverns across the street from each other.  The one that’s a little better lit and cleaner is called the Three Legged Blink Dog; across the way is the Displacer Beast, clearly a touch seedier.  Our halfling heroes naturally enter the friendlier place, from which the smell of cooking soup rather than vomit emanates.  Asking around a bit, they find that the selection of judges is made by a committee of town elders, picking folk from a pool of volunteers.  

Clearly, the party’s next move is to put a few people into that pool of volunteers.  Mama Flapjacks is a shoo-in (the group assumes); Airhead Ed throws her name in too, for the idea of tasting many high-quality jams has a certain appeal to her.  Well, naturally; she’s a halfling.  

The party spends a couple of days campaigning for Mama Flapjacks, spreading tales of her culinary experience, claiming she’s been a judge at similar things before, etc.  They do their best to make her a well-known guest of the community, rather than a complete stranger.  They even seek out opportunities to help the town.  And at night, one or two of them- usually Federico- gets drunk.  Ed usually gives him his late walk.

One morning, over breakfast, Federico mentions that he’s heard that a local farmer, named Amos, has a missing dog.  “He’s the corn farmer at the end of the row,” the kobold squeaks.  “Maybe we should help him.”  The party agrees that this sounds like a good way to continue making a good name for themselves, and they seek out Amos.

It turns out to be Amos’ daughter’s dog that’s missing.  Amos, a lanky human seemingly without an ounce of welcome or friendliness in his body, doesn’t really seem to want the dog back.  But our heroes press on nevertheless, managing to extract the dog’s last known location.  “I won’t pay you,” the farmer tells them sourly.  “Damn dog.  Don’t much care for dogs.”  He glares at Federico.

“Yeah, me neither,” the kobolds whines, and slinks behind Cavedwarf’s leg.

Our heroes head into the nearby glade of woods that was the dog’s last known location, hoping to find some trace of it, and then begin exploring the rocky defile behind the woods.  A stream runs through this, and as they head upstream the clan becomes aware of a crashing noise up ahead.  “A waterfall,” Trinia says knowingly.

***

Are you surprised to learn that our heroes already have old enemies?  Enemies that they’ve made in this very story hour?  Indeed, they do!

Blaze and Broadsword watched from above as our heroes entered the defile.  They recognized our heroes, too, or at least many of them.  Trotting down towards their hidden lair, they communicated telepathically, silently.  

Plotting death to all who might have figured out their secret.

***

The halflings move up the edge of the streambed, which winds its way south into the mountains.  Around them rock walls are starting to rise in sheer walls, making it more of a gorge, and only hardy, strong-rooted plants can cling to the vertical walls.  “There, the waterfall,” Brother He calls out, gesturing ahead.  He’s seen such things before, in the Underdark, but never before on the surface.

“Well, no sign of the dog,” grumbles Captain Cavedwarf.  

“I wonder if there’s anything behind the waterfall?” says Ed.  “There’s always stuff behind the waterfall in the tales.”

“That’s true,” affirms Mama.  “Dog!  Go look!”  

Federico splashes up to the waterfall and sticks his scrawny neck through it, then pulls it back after a moment.

“There’s a cave!” he exclaims.  “And there are two garen back there!”



_*Next Time:*_ Blaze and Broadsword strike!


----------



## Lela

What's a garen?

And Blaze and Broadsword are perfect FF names.


----------



## the Jester

Lela said:
			
		

> What's a garen?




They're my campaign's rough equivalent of horses- they look like zebras except that they're any two colors of brown, yellow and green.


----------



## the Jester

Blaze whinnies innocently, and inwardly both garen snicker to themselves.

They’ve known this time would come again since they murdered their previous owner, Othic.   The taste of blood was too enticing, and now- now for these, the only individuals who might be able to reveal the truth about them, to come along so perfectly- well!

As the little creatures try to coax them out of the cave, the garen open up with psionic assaults, and suddenly Broadsword pitches forward, his long nose transforming as he manifests _bite of the wolf!_  Captain Cavedwarf lets out a terrific bellow as the lunging garen takes a chunk out of his side!

A confused battle ensues, with the halflings first trying to restrain the vicious animals.  This works about as well as one would expect, with Blaze bucking free after they grapple him, and even when he’s being overborne by the halflings he keeps lashing out with his mental powers.  Finally the halflings resort to lethal blows.  The angry dwarven friend of the clan has been less shy about doing so, and he lays about with his greatclub, dropping Broadsword, but Blaze seizes control of Brother He’s body and starts using him as a weapon!  Mama puts an end to that by _commanding_ Brother He to “Fall!”

In the end, the heroes put the other mad animal down without too much trouble; though several of them are wounded, none of them are seriously injured.  (Of course, Mama and Trinia have both already expended some healing.)  An investigation into the strange animals is rather instructive.

“Crystals,” Ed says.

They look with surprise at the crystals they found stuck in the two garens’ foreheads.  They’ve seen them before- when they dealt with the menace of the Dragonstone, and especially that horrible moment when the goblin hammered one into the child’s head back in Copperdeath’s lair.

“It made them smart,” Federico realizes.

“Maybe we should hammer one into _your_ head, dog!” Mama jokes.  

Federico laughs nervously.  “Oh, sure,” he offers, tilting his head back, and Mama pretends to strike the crystal into his forehead, intending to pull her blow at the last instant.  Unfortunately, she misjudges and deals a fair wound to the poor kobold’s noggin.  

The group heads back towards town, having found no sign of the missing dog.  That evening they mostly sleep in the Three Legged Blink Dog inn, but Captain Cavedwarf sleeps out of town, and when he awakens he finds a dog curled up near him.  Being a druid, he easily ascertains that it is the animal they seek.  Amused, he hoists it up and takes it into town; the party meets up with him, amazed at his good fortune.  Together the group returns the dog to an attractive teenage girl.  She is overjoyed with happiness at its return, and the party learns that she tutors a local official (they actually already know this, but they’re happy to let her ramble on about it; they’ve already gathered from certain individuals around the town that ‘tutoring’ may be a euphemism for something a little more, shall we say, physical).  She chatters for a while, and Mama tries to put herself in the back of the girl’s mind as a potential judge, hoping that pillow talk will influence the official she, ahem, tutors.  

Trinia heads out of town for a while, meditating and burning incense.  She fasts all day, then sends out the call at evening.  By dawn of the next morning her new wolf has come to her, a little more aloof than Misha was and not yet willing to share his name.  They lay down together for a few brief hours of sleep and then she heads back into town.  

Today, she knows, is the day when the judges are selected.  As she moves into town she sees a surprising bustle of activity- a stage is being set up, and tables, and chairs; as she walks by she sees a cheery fat human man roll a barrel of water out, no doubt to keep the judges’ palates clear.

“They’re setting up,” she tells the others, who are excited to hear it- especially Mama and Airhead Ed.  

“I want to be a judge!” Mama gushes, thinking of the prestige.

Everyone heads out to the town square, interested in the proceedings, and happily the group finds a breakfast buffet being set up!  For only 3 gold pieces each!

“All you can eat?” exclaims Trinia.  “They didn’t reckon with halflings!”


_*Next Time:*_ The judges are selected, the dog is kicked, and a gnoll is sighted!


----------



## the Jester

*Who be the Judge?*

Boy oh boy does Federico love bacon.

Though he clearly makes the locals a little uncomfortable, the kobold is having a blast.  Bacon, mmm!  Can’t go wrong with bacon!  As he goes back for thirds he spots a kid trying to pickpocket someone, and hisses at the lad; and to Federico’s dismay, the kid goes crying for his dad.  Federico scampers under a table and hides, managing to keep from being noticed or trampled for a few minutes; then he sees the kid’s dad smack the boy for wasting his time.  

Federico is awash in a strange mix of guilt, anger and satisfaction that he doesn’t easily resolve.

“Oh that Edmund, drunk again,” the kobold hears someone at the table he’s hidden beneath comment.

After a time a tremendous line of would-be judges forms.  Both Mama Flapjacks and Airhead Ed get dutifully into line.  From the sidelines, Federico surreptitiously observes the panel that is doing the judge selection at work, then reports back to both Mama and Ed.  “Seems like it’s about three parts old local buddies and one part reputation.”

“Well, we have been doing good deeds,” Mama replies primly.

“Maybe our outsider status will help,” Airhead Ed suggests loftily.

In the end, who can say what sways the judges?  Certainly each of our halflings, in turn, is before the panel for a roughly equal amount of time, about three minutes.  Each is asked more or less the same suite of questions about their qualifications and character; and in the end each is thanked and sent to wait for the panel’s decisions.

When the judges’ names are posted that evening and Mama’s is not one of them, she kicks Federico.  “Stupid dog!” she grunts.  “If it wasn’t for you they’d have elected me!”  He tucks his tail between his legs and takes it.

This conveniently ignores the fact that Airhead Ed _is_ on the list.  One might argue that Federico’s presence weighed against them; yet Ed was elected.  Nobody brings this up, of course; it would be impolitic.  

“Yay, I’m a judge!” Ed crows.

Trinia says, “Well, the contest isn’t for a few days- what are we gonna do?”

“We could follow up on that treasure map,” suggests Federico.

The group agrees that that sounds like a pretty good idea, so soon they’ve struck out for a mountainous area southwest of Bellhold...


_*Next Time:*_ Halflings vs. Gnolls!


----------



## the Jester

*Gnollz!*

A day of strenuous hiking, broken by many meals and snacks, culminates in our wee heroes entering a canyon.  They camp there, and in the morning they move into and up the canyon, emerging on the top of a rough low ridge that runs like a half-grown beard on the face of the land.

“Following treasure maps is hard,” whines Federico.

The day is long and dusty; by afternoon, the party is pretty tired.  They break for a snack, everyone enjoying the chance to sit down for a minute (most easily find large rocks suitable for sitting).  Then they resume their march, a bit more well-spirited.  Federico lighten the mood with his japes, riding his dog Ethel, which he purchased just before this expedition.

The group’s path leads them down into a wide gully.  Scattered gravel and larger rocks make the group pick their way carefully; all around them, wherever the larger rocks have left enough space, there are gnarled bushes with thick, strong branches.  The travel is fairly difficult, and then suddenly Federico spies movement-

“Gnolls!” he screams.  Then he starts singing a jeering song.  His reptilian finger is pointing ahead, and the rest of the group sees a trio of hyena-headed humanoids moving in their direction.

The gnolls have apparently already seen our heroes, for they release a volley of arrows before anyone else has a chance to react.  The shafts sing through the air, and two of them pierce Ed in the arm and leg!  “Aaargh!” she cries, staggering, her unwounded hand grasping at the arrow in her wounded arm in sudden shock.  She bursts into tears.  Then she drops, bleeding heavily.

Mama and Captain Cavedwarf both spring forward to aid Ed.  The Captain reaches her first, and his druidic powers flow forth.  Green, life-giving energy flows from him and the arrows pop free as her wounds knit and close up, leaving her bruised and tender but whole.  Her eyes flutter open, and then Mama lays healing hands upon her as well.  

Most of the rest of the group has moved up to attack the gnolls.  Federico stops singing and casts a _sleep_ spell, dropping one of the enemy; and Mama unlimbers her sling to give the advancing group a little cover.  

Captain Cavedwarf roars his own name as an arrow bounces from his armor, and stops his movement forward, instead starting to gesture and chant.  His voice rises in a long appeal to nature and then a dire rat appears next to the gnolls!  With a loud squeak, it attacks!  The Captain, meanwhile, summons a wolf as well, and with the two animals near them the gnolls begin falling back, shooting as they do!  But they’re considerably disheartened when _another_ wolf appears, this one summoned by Trinia, and joins the attack.  

One of the gnolls drops when Captain Cavedwarf himself finally reaches the battle, swinging his heavy club into it.  The gnoll staggers and a wolf tears it down from behind, ripping out its throat.  The last gnoll standing is beleaguered, and finally yields.

Leaving our heroes with two gnoll prisoners.

“What are we going to do with them?” Trinia asks.

Nobody really seems to know. 

“Well,” says Captain Cavedwarf after a moment’s consideration, “they attacked Ed and messed up her arm.  Where I come from, in a case like this, we’d make ‘em serve you as your hand for a year and a day.”

“Serve me?” Ed exclaims.

“Ooh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Federico objects.  “I don’t think it would be safe.”

The group argues for a few moments on the subject; then Mama makes a decision.  “We’re not keeping them with us,” she says, and lets them go with a stern warning and a lecture delivered as only Mama can deliver it.  The gnolls hang their heads in shame and skulk off, and the party moves quickly to vacate the hour in case the gnolls return with friends...


_*Next Time:*_ What treasure does the map lead to??


----------



## Lela

Jester said:
			
		

> “We’re not keeping them with us,” she says, and lets them go with a stern warning and a lecture delivered as only Mama can deliver it. The gnolls hang their heads in shame and skulk off. . .



*Blink Blink*

Go Mama, go!


----------



## the Jester

“This looks like the spot,” rumbles Captain Cavedwarf.

Our heroes are looking at the face of a cliff.  There’s no obvious entrance, but a search soon turns up an overgrown cave entrance.  Ed fairly dances in anticipation of loot.  

Slowly our heroes proceed.  The cave was obviously formed naturally, and then enlarged later.  As the group advances the cave widens until it’s formed a chamber about 20’ in diameter.  Rocks are strewn about the chamber; a few old crates and broken barrels are in the chamber as well.  The place has the look of an underdeveloped and abandoned mineshaft; an uneven stone passage descends from it at about a 45 degree angle.  As the party starts heading towards it-

“Look out!” cries Trinia.  She already has her scimitar out, and as her puzzled companions watch, she swings at something in the shadows!  Trinia grunts as her blade deflects off something hard and scaly.  

A huge snake lunges forward.  Its scales are patterned in brown and green diamonds, helping it to blend in to the rubble.  Captain Cavedwarf springs onto a crate, then swings his greatclub, also missing.  Ed, too, tries to poke the dire snake.  For a moment the party’s numbers seem to intimidate the snake; but it’s just rearing back to strike, and in the blink of an eye it bites at Ed, who ducks away with a yell!

“Mama!” Ed wails, bursting into tears.

“Don’t worry, Mama’s here!” cries Mama Flapjacks, and she strikes mightily- but in the dimness, her aim is off, and she too misses!

Then both Captain Cavedwarf and Trinia land near-simultaneous blows.  The snake heaves itself forward, snapping out, and its deadly fangs pierce Trinia!  The druidess howls in pain, then screeches as it pulls her into its coils and adds constriction to her rapidly-growing list of problems!

“Trinia!” cries Ed, and finally manages to poke the snake.  She manages to slip the tip of her rapier into the thing’s throat, through a weak-looking scale;* pulling her bloody blade free, she stays warily on guard.

The snake, half-blind with pain and blood loss, releases Trinia (who is now unconscious and no longer struggling) and lashes out.  Ed screams again as it bites, poisons and grapples Mama, all at once!  Things look grim!!

But then she plucks up her courage; after all, Captain Cavedwarf is still in there trying! 

Still _giving her someone to flank with._

Airhead Ed is, in fact, smarter than she lets on.  Or is it braver?  Either way, the results are the same.  She stands fast, and as the snake lunges forward at her ally, she dances close to it and sticks her rapier in its midsection, piercing its heart!

As the snake dies Ed and the Captain move to aid their unconscious friends.  In a few moments they’ve bound the worst of the wounds and ensured that nobody is going to die. 

And then they bravely descend the passage, finding a cramped opening.  Within it are a few hundred coins of different types and quite a pile of mundane equipment.  Looking around, Captain Cavedwarf’s discerning dwarven eye spots a masterwork shield, but a _detect magic_ shows no sign of any enchanted objects or spells in the area.

“Darn,” says Ed.

***

A few days of resting and travel sees our heroes back in Blackwood, and soon enough it’s time for the jam contest...



*Sneak attack (she was flanking, iirc).


_*Next Time:*_ The jam contest!  Enter the Yips!!


----------



## the Jester

*Enter the Yips*

The contest has begun.  Music ripples through the air, the smell of pastries baking mingles with the scent of jam being warmed and readied to apply on said pastries.  The judges are gathered at a series of long tables hung with garlands of spring flowers.  

Mama is sulking, having taken herself away since she was rejected as a judge.*

While Ed, with the other judges, starts tasting the entries in the jam contest, Federico is working on a new series of fruit acts, involving everything from eating disgustingly rotten fruit to juggling them.  He’s having a good time, and children are laughing at his antics; hopefully he won’t see the town drunk again.

***

Sandy has traveled long and hard to check into a few things for his benefactors.  He’s got a lot on his mind, but he’s looking forward to rejoining his clan and seeing how everyone’s doing.  He learned from the Bakeswells that the party was in Blackwood; so he set out at a determined pace, and now, a few days later, he can see the little town ahead.  The road he is on winds between a few outlying farms and then up the hill on which Blackwood mostly sits.  Sandy hasn’t been here before so he takes a moment to scrutinize the town.  It’s a single-road town, and pretty much all the buildings are right along the road.  It looks like there’s a single watch tower that has a sort of unused, abandoned look (_Ah, the fall of empire,_ Sandy thinks) on the far side of the town square, which seems to have some kind of gathering going on.  Whistling to himself, Sandy strides forward.  Then he catches a glimpse of movement in the rows of corn to his left.  

Glancing in that direction, he sees a pair of kobolds sneaking along.  They don’t see him see them; so Sandy keeps walking, picking up the pace a little but not doing anything to give himself away.  He flicks his eyes left and right-

_There are more of them,_ he realizes.

Indeed, to either side he catches signs of several kobolds sneaking slowly into the town.  

Sandy pauses for a moment.  He shrugs out of his backpack, rifles through it, pulls out a blanket and cuts a piece free with his dagger.  Using some wine, he paints a symbol on it: the nautical sign for ‘danger.’**  Then he picks it up and rushes towards the square.

The kobolds stay under cover.

***

Ed is obviously enjoying herself.  She’s sampled many jams already, and most of them are very good.  A select few are far beyond that- for instance, that one-eyed feller’s apricot jam was remarkable!  

But the Peachtree entry hasn’t come up yet.  

Ed chats animatedly with the other judges as she waits for her chance.

Federico is keeping an eye on her from his position where he’s juggling fruit.  He’s made quite a few of the humans laugh; it makes him happy to be able to bring humor to their day.  He has quite a crowd, including Martini, which makes him easy for Sandy to spot.  

“Federico!” Sandy cries as he runs up, his ‘danger’ sign undead by the ignorant folk all around.  He leans close and quietly says, “There’s trouble!” 

Quickly, Federico ends his act for the moment and he, Martini and Sandy move off.  The stout fills the others in and they move towards the watch tower.  “Does this place even have a guard?” wonders Martini.

Doesn’t look like it. 

“How many are they?” the ranger asks.

“I’m not sure- I saw about four or five, but who knows how many I missed?”

Trinia emerges from the crowd, moving towards them with her wolf.  The whole group climbs the ladder that leads to the tower’s platform.  Looking out-

“There must be... at least a dozen of them,” Martini groans.

“Oh, I’m scared!” Federico whimpers.  “We’ve got to warn the townsfolk!”

“You’re right.”  Sandy grimly starts clambering down the ladder.  “Maybe there are some warriors who can help us...” 

Yeah, maybe.  In this town of Blackwood, population 99.  


*Actually, her player missed this game.  

**Sandy is a stout; they like the water.


_*Next Time:*_ The jam contest is most rudely interrupted!


----------



## Lela

Population 99?  The next baby born is definitally going to get a party then.

I'm so looking forward to the Yips.  I love those little guys.


----------



## the Jester

*The Yips Arrive*

The screams of our heroes serve to set off a panic, and the folk of Blackwood are screaming as they run indoors.  Sandy cries for assistance- surely the town (pop. 99) must have _some_ warriors- but the folk are stampeding like a pack of lemmings.  Doors are slamming, shutters are being closed. 

The judges of the jam contest scatter as well.  Some contestants lurch under the tables, but most sprint for some sort of shelter.  The cries of “Kobolds are coming!” have put some spring in their step, that’s for sure.  Only Airhead Ed remains at the table, bawling her eyes out.  

Our heroes climb the watch tower again.  If only there was a watch- but no.  With the breakdown of authority in the Dark Empire, towns like Blackwood are on their own.  

Except for the rare occasions when they have a brave pack of halfling defenders, that is.

From the watchtower, Martini draws out his bow; at the base of the watchtower, Federico pulls forth his crossbow.  An arrow is knocked and a crank turns, drawing back the crossbow’s string.

The kobolds- more than a dozen, but most in hiding; how many _are_ there?- are advancing into the town, gradually coming towards the square.  From their vantage point, the heroes can see the back side of the Displacer Beast tavern, and Trinia nudges Martini and points.

A window in the back of the bar opens, and a figure struggles through and starts running.

Three of the kobolds burst from cover and start towards the figure.

Martini and Federico start firing arrows at the lead kobold.  The little dog-folk are moving _fast._  Federico’s bolt sails directly at one of the kobolds, but its hand knocks it away before it has a chance to hit!  “Oh no, I’m scared,” whimpers Federico as he fires.  He doesn’t want to fight his own kind- but he will!

Unnoticed, in the center of the square, Airhead Ed sweeps _all the jam entries_ from the table into her backpack.  Wailing, she ties her bag shut and stuffs it out of sight under the bench she’s sitting on.

The fleeing figure, catching a glimpse of the missiles firing at the kobolds over his head, veers towards the tower.  He’s running as fast as he can, but the kobolds are closing steadily.  Sandy, having descended to the ground, fires a bullet from his sling; but it sails past his target ineffectually.  Trinia starts descending the watch tower’s ladder.

Federico mounts his riding dog (Ethel) and rushes towards a building for cover, but one of the kobolds has turned towards him.  “Arf, oh no!” Federico cries in distress.

“Come, brother!” the strange kobold cries.  “We will free you!”  And he makes a strange gesture, one hand in a first crossing the other- it’s fast, and Feddie only partially catches it. 

The running figure has finally reached the base of the tower, two kobolds yipping right behind him.  Our heroes recognize him as Tanthos, the strange man with an affinity for Ferax the dragon and kobolds that they met previously in the Displacer Beast.  “You!” Martini exclaims, but Tanthos, fear in his eye, ignores the halfling and starts scrambling up the ladder.

”Hey!” Trinia yells at him.  “I’m coming _down,_ you idiot!”  The kobold-f***er (as the party has begun to mentally call him) ignores her and keeps climbing.  Cursing, she ascends back to the platform at the top to let him pass.

Martini, meanwhile, steps up with his halfling-sized blades and rapidly cuts one of the kobolds down to size.  “Yip!” it cries, as he stabs it through the spleen.  Ethel (Federico’s dog) meanwhile tears another of the kobolds down; the party’s two dogs and wolf had all attacked the second kobold, using dog pack tactics to take it down, though it did kick the wolf hard enough to knock it out cold.  

The third visible kobold cries, “Peace!  We mean no harm, we want only _him._”  And he points at Tanthos, who is cowering above on the tower (which Trinia is again descending).

“He _is_ a kobold-f***er!” Martini shouts.  “I knew it!”


_*Next Time:*_ How will our heroes negotiate a cessation to hostilities?  What will they do to, for or with Tanthos?  And will Ed get away with the jam??


----------



## Lela

> “He is a kobold-f***er!” Martini shouts. “I knew it!”




Drops head on table.  Ouch.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

Bizarre, yet strangely addictive is this story hour. Massed halflings battling kobolds...imagine the comedy potential...


----------



## the Jester

Lela said:
			
		

> Drops head on table.  Ouch.




For the record, that line was a direct quote from the pc.


----------



## the Jester

*A Little Diplomacy*

Our heroes, now all on the ground, bind the kobold and begin nervously questioning it.  Sandy is all too aware that there are more- probably _many_ more- hiding out around the outskirts of the town.

“What do you want?  Who are you?” Federico asks.

“I am Yip!” the kobold replies.  “And we simply want him- be wary of him!”

Turning, our heroes see that Tanthos has descended the ladder and started trying to sidle away.  “Just hold on there,” Sandy snaps.  “Why don’t you just come on over here where we can keep an eye on you.”

“They attacked me!  I’m leaving-“

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Sandy says dangerously.  “So come over here until we decide what to do with you.”

Grumbling, Tanthos complies.

“Now what’s the story?” asks Federico, and Yip- or perhaps I should say, _the_ Yip- unfolds his tale.*  It turns out that he is but one of an entire order, the Order of Yip, that consists of good-aligned kobolds devoted to Galador and raised in secret by the Church.  Tanthos, apparently, “abused the hospitality” of the Yips, and worse acts are strongly implied.  He is said to have “unnatural and abominable” interests in reptile-folk such as kobolds. 

Tanthos protests that he is a follower of Ferax the Terrible,** and that he loves and respects kobolds.  He means them no harm; he wishes only to aid them in achieving more power.  Surely he cannot be faulted for that.  All his differences with the Yips are merely philosophical, and any attempt to portray them as more than that is mere sophistry.  After all, he didn’t actually _do anything_ to them, did he?

Our heroes confer, carefully watching the nervous dragon priest and the calm, bound kobold.  By now people have emerged from their houses and are standing around nervously, and Sandy and Martini have set about trying to organize a defense, in case the kobolds attack.  But determining what to do with the two prisoners seems of primary importance.  

In the end, our heroes release Tanthos and tell him to get out of town.  “I don’t like you,” grumbles Sandy, “and I _don’t_ trust you.  So why don’t you take what head start you’ve got and get moving?”

Tanthos eagerly does just that. 

Then, after another few minutes of discussion about the fate of the Yip, the party releases him.  “Well, take care,” Federico says, “and stay out of trouble.  And watch out for that guy.”

***

Airhead Ed is crying her pretty blonde head off.  She sees the Yip moving off, released by Federico, and once he’s got a good head start she cries out, “They took the jam!”

As the townsfolk finally take notice of her, still sitting there at the table, they notice debris around her: overturned plates, spilled cups, pastries spilled on the ground.  

“What?!” cries a halfling from the crowd.

”They took the jam!” Ed wails again.  

“NO!” yells the halfling, springing forward, and scrambles through the scattered crockery, looking for something.  He does not find it.  “They took my jam!” he cries.

Clearly, this is Benjy Peachtree.


*I stole the Yips hook line and sinker from Arwink’s game.  Check out his story hour for the original version. 

**Ferax is a red dragon who was around a million years ago to witness the ignition of the sun.  He lives on Strogass and claims an entire mountain range as his immediate lair- i.e. enter at your own risk.  Ferax is probably the most powerful non-divine ranked entity you’ve read about in my campaign, no matter what you’ve read.  He’s also probably more powerful than most lesser and intermediate gods.  I don’t have stats on him, but I’ll guesstimate his CR at around 100 or so.  Ferax is known for wiping out all the dwarves in twelve thaneholds (dwarven mountain cities) in a week and claiming all their treasure for his sleeping pile.

_*Next Time:*_ The jam contest concludes!


----------



## Lela

the Jester said:
			
		

> For the record, that line was a direct quote from the pc.



 I had hoped so.

And Ed is brilliant.


----------



## the Jester

*Escape with the Jam!*

There’s a great loud hubbub in the town of Blackwood.  A calamitous noise rises from the town square as the folk of the little community realize that their contest has been defiled.  The wailing of a weeping halfling judge, the angry screaming of a young Peachtree upstart, and the cries of outrage of the folk that actually live in Blackwood mingle like strangers at a party, combining into a heck of a riot.

While the folk of Blackwood are so distracted, the kobolds hiding in the trees and shadows and bushes surrounding the small town make their retreat.  The few townsfolk that spot them do not dare try to fight, though a single dog does bark furiously at them; and they easily escape.

In the square, a great commotion is rolling around the shocked populace.  

“They took _all the jam!_” Airhead Ed moans, a bubble of snot popping momentarily out of her nose.  Tears run rivers down her face.  Truly, this is a drama queen at work.

Benjy Peachtree is digging through the debris of the table for any sign of his jam, but it is quite clearly gone.  “No...” he groans.  “It’s gone.  They’ve taken it.  Well... I’ll have to make another batch, but so early...”

“What about the contest?” Ed asks the folk of the town.  Two dozen voices start shouting at once.

“It’s ruined!” “Can’t we just judge the ones that were sampled so far?” “My entry never even got tasted!” “We could do it over-“ “It’s an omen, we shouldn’t-“  Too many, jumbled all together, all overlapping.  The judges gather around Ed and speak in a circle.

“The contest has been ruined,” one of the judges (an old man) says, his voice quavering.  

“We _can’t_ let it be ruined!” a younger lass replies.

“Maybe we can just put it off for a while,” says Ed.  

“Yes,” quavers the old man, “if we give the folk who entered time to make another batch-“

“But that’s a whole year for those of us who need to wait for berries or fruit to ripen,” points out one of the entrants, who has sidled over to listen to the deliberations.

“About six months, really,” the lass replies.  “Most of the berries will ripen in the summer and be ready by autumn-“

“A year,” the entrant says firmly, “for those of us with spring fruit, flowers or berries in our jam.”

“Ah.”

They go around and around for a while.  Finally, they decide to reschedule the contest for ten months hence- almost everyone is happy with that, but the entrant with the spring flowers, fruit or berries in his jam leaves with a sour face.

After resolving that issue, Ed rejoins the rest of the party.  They’re talking to Benjy Peachtree, who is still bemoaning his loss.  

“Maybe we could track the kobolds down for you,” Ed offers.  

“And recover your jam,” adds Federico.

_Oh, brilliant!_ thinks Sandy.

***

Meanwhile, at the family wagons, Thelonious- the adopted human member of the Flapjacks clan- is training under the tutelage of one Deputy Howe Slinger.*  There are halfling Sheriffs that patrol the plains, and each picks out a handful of deputies to assist them in their jobs.  This particular deputy happened across the Flapjacks wagons and stopped for a visit.  Being one of the famous Slinger clan, he was a crack shot with thrown daggers, his small bow, a crossbow, a sling and just about anything else he threw or fired.  While he was showing off, Thelonious found himself very impressed, and after dessert that night he approached the deputy shyly.  He spoke in Strogassian, which the deputy understood and replied in, and asked for some lessons.

The training commenced.  

Thelonious was an apt student.  He was already a decent shot with a bow, but under Slinger’s tutelage he became even better.  Soon he was able to fire shots with remarkable speed- a little clumsily, but sometimes quantity would serve better than quality.

He thought often of his friends and the dog- how was lil ol Federico doing, anyway?  He sighed.  What about some of Mama’s home-cooked pancakes wrapped round bacon?  Mmmm!  

It would be some days yet before news of their forthcoming disaster to reach him.

***

Whistling merrily as they made their way towards the Flapjacks wagons, our heroes are fairly happy.  They got away clean, and even though Ed hasn’t yet revealed the stolen jam, the party’s fairly certain she at least got a sample.  

As they leave Blackwood behind them, Ed turns to Sandy.  “Can you keep a secret?” she pipes up.

“Of course!” Sandy answers.  “It’s part of my job.”

“But _will_ you?”

He laughs.  “Sure!”

“I got the jam!”  And Ed produces her backpack and opens it-

There are awed sighs and the sound of inward drawn breath.  It is magnificent.

“So much jam,” moans Martini, salivating.  

“But- which one’s Peachtree’s?”  Sandy’s words draw the group up short.  They dig through the collection, finding that many are labeled- and indeed, one is tagged with Benjy Peachtree’s mark!

“Success!” beams Trinia.

“Let’s have a snack!”  Ed whips out some pastries, and they proceed to sample some of their bounty- leaving the Peachtree jam, for the moment, untested.  

When they break for dinner they look over the Peachtree jam a little more thoroughly.  It’s an odd dark purplish-grey color.  They debate sampling it, but Ed refuses, saying that she doesn’t think it’s a good idea.  “We need to give it to Leanne Bakeswell,” she says.

“There’s a lot in the jar,” muses Martini. 

“Yeah, come on, let’s just try it,” urges Sandy.  

“Oh, I don’t know, arf,” moans the kobold.

Ed refuses.  “Not yet,” she says.

***

That night, Airhead Ed takes the first watch.  Once the others have all fallen asleep, she quietly pulls the jar of Peachtree jam out and looks at it longingly for a moment.  If ever Ed has struggled with temptation, now is the moment.  She almost puts it back in her pack, then stops, turning it in her hands.  What is in this supposedly fantastic jam?  So fantastic that it scares the Bakeswells!  It’s just _got_ to be good...

Unable to resist, Airhead Ed opens the jar.  

A fragrance springs forth like nothing she’s ever smelled before.  “Ahh,” she murmurs to herself, surprised.  It smells _good._  Like- like- like nothing else she’s ever smelled.  Sweet, with a... she can’t pin down a description of it.  It’s a heady scent that almost bowls her over.  It’s as intense of an experience as if she’d never even heard of alcohol and then someone fed her a shot, a sort of _What the hell was that?_ that she can’t explain. 

Slowly she dips a finger into the jam.

_YUM!_

If it smells good, it tastes a thousand times better.  Instantly she knows that this is the best jam she’s ever had.  There is no other competitor that matches up to it- and she just sampled a ton of very good jams earlier in the day.  

For every hint of mysterious goodness in the scent there is a full-fledged swatch of indescribable (but _excellent_) sweet flavor in the jam.  It’s so good that she just can’t resist taking another taste.

Then she sighs and puts the jam away, screwing the jar on tight and wrapping it in a shirt before wedging it deep in her backpack.

Then she proceeds to drink like a dwarf for almost three hours, staying on watch for more than her turn and getting trashed.  Finally she stumbles over and wakes Martini up, gets loud and obnoxious and wakes up the others, and at last gets sucked down into bed by Trinia.  Soon the two of them (and Trinia’s wolf) are snoring in a pile and Martini is the only one awake.

Soon enough he finds the jam, and puts just a little on a cracker.  

“Wow,” he whispers as the strange flavor hits his tongue.  “Wow.”

***

In the morning, Ed has trouble getting up.  She’s badly hung over.  The group encounters a group of dwarves with a wagon with a thrown wheel and Federico buffoons himself for their edification, but soon they move on deeper into the plains.

None of them spot the low, sleek feline form that follows them through the tall grass.

*His player missed several sessions in a row, so we just filled in the details on where Thelonious was for those sessions during last night’s game.  I just thought it would be a good thing to throw in here, because it underlines a couple of things I hadn’t even realized about the character- until he hit 2nd level he didn’t even speak halfling!  (The player described him as “like the Mexican half-brother who doesn’t speak english.”)



_*Next Time:*_ Bad kitty!!


----------



## the Jester

*Dog Pack*

The halflings’ first warning that they’re being stalked is a loud caterwauling sound that echoes across the shrub-dotted plains in the afternoon.

“What was that??” exclaims Phenol Sandybanks, drawing forth his longspear.

Our heroes grow tense and move a little quicker.  They are paralleling the line of the mountains, and decide to seek out a better battle ground- somewhere they can have a cliff wall at their backs.  Hurriedly, they clamber up a foothill and onto a ridge.  They find themselves on a stone-strewn path that zigs and zags from one side of the ridge to the next, and as the sky starts to turn purple with the setting sun the party hears another howling whine.  

“That noise is really creepy,” shudders Ed. 

“Look!” cries Trinia.

Movement; something large and muscular slinks from one shadow to another, momentarily skylined against the clouds as it passes over a rise.  Feline, dark-skinned, whatever it is, it’s clearly headed in their direction.  Several of our heroes fall back; Sandy readies his spear.  Airhead Ed draws out her bow.

Federico calls out, “Hello!” in a loud voice.  “We’re just peaceful travelers- we mean no harm!”

The cat-thing rises onto two legs, showing a surprisingly humanoid profile for a moment.  Then it lets out an incredibly loud, ear-splitting screech.  Trinia gasps and grabs her head.  Blood starts to pour from her ears and nose.  She staggers, legs going weak...

Sandy rushes forward and jabs as the cat-thing drops to all four and leaps down towards them.  Ed starts a wailing of her own, crying and stomping her feet, and it’s so loud that it overwhelms the caterwauling of the cat-creature.*  Then she starts firing her bow at the creature, dropping back as it moves forward.  Federico fires his crossbow, but both of them miss the creature.  

Then the dog pack attacks.

Federico’s dog Ethel is in the lead, but Trinia has a wolf and Brother He has a riding dog as well.  The three of them, naturally aroused by a feline opponent, tear into it, barking furiously.  Trinia moves in a moment later with a _shillelagh,_ and Martini fires and lands an arrow in the cat beast’s side.  It yowls like an angry tomcat, then slashes Ethel across the snout and bites her along the face!  The poor dog merely redoubles his assault, and Federico moves forward and uses his bardic magic to cure some of her wounds.  Trinia’s wolf, meanwhile, pulls the caterwaul from its feet.  Savagely the dogs set on the prone beast, and Airhead Ed springs in with her rapier, sticking her blade up beneath the ribcage and into its vitals.  

The cat monster is bleeding from several wounds and is starting to weaken and slow, but it keeps trying to slay poor Ethel.  From its position on the ground, however, it seems incapable of landing a blow, and in another few seconds the dog pack has won the day.  They tear the caterwaul literally to pieces until the halflings finally call them off.

“Do you think it had a lair?” wonders Federico.

“We could look, but it might entail a lot of climbing,” Martini answers doubtfully.

“Never mind,” Federico says hurriedly.

“Besides, look at those clouds,” Trinia points out.  Indeed, the sky is starting to cover itself in dark clouds.  “That’s rain for sure.  I’d say in an hour or so.”

Her prediction is borne out.  Soon a chilly drizzle is falling on the clan.  The general consensus is that a nice comfortable shelter- a cave, an outcropping, _something_- is pretty much required, so the group travels on for a time.  

Soon a small structure looms out of the night ahead of them on the trail.  Nervously, the group approaches; and then when they get close enough they all relax.  

“It’s a Black Cottage!” exclaims Sandy.  “Just what we need!”

Eagerly, the party lets themselves in to the building.  The Black Cottages are a group of way posts that the Strogassian Empire set up for travelers to rest in when they might otherwise be caught in the wilds in inclement weather.  Though neither stocked with provisions nor patrolled regularly, they are often visited by traveling military units, tax collectors and the like, and so are usually pretty safe for a night or two.  Not always, of course; but this one is.

While the rain pounds down outside our heroes rest peacefully...


*Ed, as a bard, is geared toward drama-queen style performances.  This was a countersong.


_*Next Time:*_ What is the secret ingredient of the jam?  Will even Leanne Bakeswell know?  How will our heroes find out?  And what’s Benjy Peachtree up to?


----------



## Lela

> *Ed, as a bard, is geared toward drama-queen style performances. This was a countersong.



Now that's just beautiful.


----------



## the Jester

The Bakeswells are more than happy to see our heroes.  The group is welcomed out of the continuing storm into the wagons with cheer, food and strong beverages.  After warming themselves for a time and a healthy helping of pie and mulled cider, the group happily relates the tale of the jam contest to Leanne Bakeswell and the group pulls forth the jar of mysterious jam concocted by that Benjy Peachtree upstart.

Leanne examines it; sniffs it; looks at it carefully.  She spreads a little on some crackers and then passes them around.  The jam is certainly fine-tasting!  Mmm, what a nice flavor!

But _what flavor is it?_

Leanne Bakeswell, well-known for the breadth of her culinary expertise, frowns.  She tries a second cracker, then a taste of the jam by itself.  Exasperated, she says, “I must admit- I can’t tell what’s in this.” 

The wagon falls silent.  _Leanne_ can’t tell?  That’s unthinkable!

She leans back and sighs.  

“We can find out for you,” proclaims Ed.  “Somehow!”

“But how?” wonders Trinia.

“Well,” suggests Sandy, “someone could apprentice himself or herself to Peachtree...”

“Maybe we can trick him,” muses Federico.  “If we bring him back what’s left of the jam, he’s bound to need more, so we can follow him, you know, slyly, arf.”

“But there’s already so much jam missing, he’ll blame us,” protests Trinia.

“Not if we blame the kobolds that took it in the first place,” grins Sandy.  “We can claim that we followed them and struck them down, but it was too late- they’d already eaten most of the jam!”

“And he’ll surely need to make more,” adds Trinia excitedly.  “We can follow him back to wherever he does it!”

A few days’ rest, while the weather improves, and then our heroes set out again, heading back towards Blackwood.  Hopefully, they’ll be able to find out just what is in Benjy Peachtree’s jam.  

The ground is swampy as they walk; the rains of the last few days have left things bloated with water.  Though it’s not too pleasant for walking, the day is bright and warm.  Just the thing for overland travel!

And just the thing to bring out the leeches.

Fat and slimy, leeches the size of large dogs slither forth from the tall grass and the wet muck underfoot.  Our heroes are assailed!  The fall into a rough circle, seeking high ground, and put their weapons to use.  Martini dances among the bloodsuckers, twirling his blade back and forth and skewering leech after leech.  But soon there are two of the little beasts siphoning his life away, and he grows sluggish and pale and slow.  With a groan, the halfling ranger sinks into unconsciousness.

The dog pack is barking furiously as they attack, tearing rubbery leeches from their halfling friends.  Federico whimpers and fires his crossbow, crouching next to a bush.  Sandy stays close by, jabbing at leeches and frantically trying to cut his way to the bleeding Martini, but by the time he finally does it’s been too long.  Barring a miracle-

Checking Martini’s pulse among the ruin of leech bits, Sandy blows out a loud sigh.  He’s alive!  Maybe it’s something to do with the leeches’ anesthetic, or maybe just his will to live; but Martini made it!*

Our heroes set a camp; they’re in no shape to travel.  Mama does her best to tend to Martini’s wounds.  Federico offers to help, and she snorts.  “I don’t know how much help a dumb dog can be, but you can try.”

The next day Martini comes around.  He’s able to limp along or ride one of the dogs, so the group continues towards Blackwood, Benjy Peachtree and the secret ingredients.


_*Next Time:*_ A little more trouble, then the group reaches Blackwood.  What will Benjy Peachtree do when they tell him their tale??

*Or maybe it’s just one of those rare moments when someone successfully rolled to stabilize.


----------



## the Jester

*A Little Jam Returns to Benjy Peachtree*

Our heroes travel towards Blackwood.  They follow the remains of an ancient road let go to ruin until it leads to a depression.  The clouds begin to drop rain off and off throughout the day.  As the group descends into an area of lower ground, they find themselves moving through a boggy area.  The rainwater from the intermittent rain over the last week or two have run down and collected in this area, leaving the ground soft and muddy.  As the group proceeds, they find themselves stepping at times into ankle-deep mud or soggy deposits of moss.  

Thus, it’s only natural that Phenol Sandybanks (called Sandy by his friends, including us) would leap onto a log to avoid a pool of mucky water; and it’s just plain unfortunate that, as soon as he steps off it and onto a nearby rise of moss and grass, it raises its long snout from the water and takes a bite at him with its sharp yellow teeth.

“Crocodile!” cries Mama.

The croc’s snap takes Sandy in the left leg and almost pulls him from his feet; but those Sandybanks are slippery, and he twists free and backpedals away from it.  His leg is bleeding profusely and he’s limping handily.  Mama Flapjacks frowns at the crocodile.  “You leave those kids alone!” she chastises.  Her hand gropes at her belt and she pulls out her mace.  Gripping it firmly, she gives the beast a stout blow to the nose!

Federico dismounts clumsily, then casts _mage armor_ on Ethel, his riding dog, who has already sprung forward bravely, snarling and snapping at the crocodile.  The reptile must be 6’ long, not even counting its tail!  It’s bigger than any of the halflings!

The crocodile ignores a sling shot from Sandy, its legs churning as it bears down on Mama.  Water sprays violently as it snaps with its long jaws, this time seizing Mama Flapjacks about the waist.  “Mama!” screamed Federico.

Mama struggles heroically as another sling stone whizzes harmlessly past her and the croc.  For a horrified moment, our heroes think that this is it; this is Mama’s last moment.  And then, with a terrific effort, she breaks free and rolls away, savaged but alive.  Federico springs forward, using his bardic magic to heal some of her wounds.  She stands and heals Sandy in turn.

Meanwhile, Ethel and the croc have squared off, snapping at each other in a blur of bites and movement.  The crocodile clubs the dog with its tail, eliciting a loud yelp from her.  The dog’s strength is flagging, but suddenly, from the other side, a longspear crashes into the crocodile’s rear leg!  Sandy, thanks to Mama’s curative magic, has moved into melee- and into flanking.  Better still, his blow knocks the crocodile over onto its back!*  It scrambles to get up, but both Ethel and Sandy press the attack as it does, and Sandy skewers it to the ground.  It takes a few moments for it to stop moving, but then he jerks his spear free.  The group harvests the crocodile’s corpse; not only can Mama cook the meat and some of the organs up, several of our heroes take trophies and fetishes.  Then the group moves on.  

Wary, of course, of floating logs.

***

The stars are just starting to peek out when the group reaches Blackwood.  As they approach- they can see a number of lights, either pouring from windows or fires lit outside.  As they approach, Federico suggests that they get their story straight. 

“Let’s say we tracked the kobolds down,” he begins.

“And most of them got away!” interjects Mama.

“And maybe they were working for some big bad guy or something,” suggests Federico.  “A demon, or a dragon or something.”

“I say we know nothing,” Sandy opines.  “Try to keep it simple so that we don’t trip ourselves up.  We’re better off the less we know about them.  Let’s just say that we tracked them down and slew most of them, but that some got away; and we didn’t really ask what they wanted.  Why would we?  We were after the jam.”

Everyone generally agrees that this course might be wisest, and indeed, about thirty minutes later when they find Benjy Peachtree at the Displacer Beast, that is pretty much what they intend to tell him.  They go to his room and knock at the door, announcing themselves and that they’ve come to return what they’ve recovered of the jam.

The door opens and Benjy Peachtree scowls at them.

“Here you go!” Federico says cheerfully.  “Um, and I think you should pay us or something.”

Peachtree frowns at the small amount of jam remaining in the jar.  He glances up at the kobold and answers coldly, “You volunteered.”  He closes the door on them, and the sound of the bolt being thrown is clearly audible.  

“No, wait!” cries Sandy.  “We didn’t mean that bit about paying us- ah, crap, too late.”  He sighs heavily and the group moves off. 

After some quiet discussion they decide to stake the place out and follow Peachtree to find out what he’s using.  It seems to be the only way; attempts to gain his trust seem to have fallen flat.  Sandy watches Peachtree’s window from the grassy area behind the building.  Federico takes a shadowed corner table in the common room.  Mama goes to purchase supplies in anticipation of pursuing Peachtree.  After she does, she keeps a discrete watch on the Displacer Beast’s front door from the porch of the Three Legged Blink Dog across the street, knitting as she waits.  

Benjy Peachtree notices Sandy outside, surmises that he’s being watched, and exits his room, pausing only long enough to gather a few precious items- including the remaining jam.  As there’s nobody watching the hallway upstairs that his door opens onto, he’s able to slip downstairs and outside, right past Federico, unnoticed.

Fortunately for our heroes, Mama sees him hurrying off, and after a discrete moment, she rushes across the street to fetch Federico, then signals for Sandy.  Together they follow Benjy Peachtree, trying to be subtle.

_*Next Time:*_ Where the heck is Benjy Peachtree sneaking off to?  What is the secret ingredient?  And how will the party deal with Benjy?  All the answers- and probably _none_ that you expect!


*Thanks to my ‘colorful critical hit’ system, where a crit deals a lil extra fun.


----------



## the Jester

Benjy Peachtree’s wagon is just outside of town.  He has several clansfolk within; Sandy sneaks up next to it, so as to eavesdrop, and can make out bits of conversation within.  Benjy sounds angry.  

After hearing enough to satisfy his present curiosity, Sandy sneaks back to his own clansfolk and reports in.

“He said he’s going to have to take shortcuts with this batch.  There’s another contest in three weeks- he has to hurry.  And they’re leaving early tomorrow to get whatever the secret ingredient is.”

Our heroes’ pulses quicken.  At last, the answer!

***

By the time our heroes rise in the morning, the Peachtrees have already departed; but their tracks are easy enough to follow.  Halfway through the morning, Trinia spots something and cries out, pulling her dagger.  Two dire porcupines emerge from the brush, noses quivering, and stare viciously in the party’s direction.  

Then they scramble forward to the attack, and our heroes are hard pressed almost immediately!  The porcupines are hard to engage in melee; their long quills are dangerous, and lodge in the flesh of those that get too close!  Soon Mama and Trinia both have an almost porcupine-like aspect themselves, with quills bristling from bleeding holes in their flesh!

However, a concentrated attack with missile fire has served Federico and Airhead Ed well.  The two keep their distance, aided by the dog pack that is growling and barking and engaging the two porcupines.  

Finally, one of the porcupines goes down under the withering hail of sling and crossbow fire and the savage bites of the dogs and wolf.  Wincing, bleeding, our heroes begin pulling the quills free are carefully as they can.

***

Three quarters of an hour later, after all their wounds are tended as best they can be, and after a tasty snack to hearten the halflings after such an unexpected attack, the group continues following the wagon’s tracks.  Trees dot the landscape, and the ground is soft and grassy, with its fair share of mud.  When they top a hill, they see the Peachtree wagon in the valley below, and they are just in time to see Benjy Peachtree riding off alone on a garen.  He canters over to a sinkhole and dismounts, leaving his garen to graze, and enters the cave.

Our heroes move a little closer to the cave, excitedly discussing what they should do.  They are trying to stay under cover for the moment.

They observe nothing exciting for a few minutes, so Federico and Ed sneak up to the cave itself.  They have a short whispered debate, and then Federico creeps up to the cave entrance and peers in.  There’s no visible sign of Peachtree.  He slowly creeps inside.

Ed, meanwhile, meanders over to the garen.*  “Hi,” she says to it.

“Hi,” it snorts back.

“What’s your name?”

“Daisy.”

“Is Benjy nice to you?”

“The grass is good here.”

“Is he a nice man?”

“He rides me.”

“I don’t think he’s very nice.  Do you want to come with me?  We’ll be nicer to you than he is.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Sure!  It’ll be fun!”

“All right.”

From their hidden vantage, Sandy quietly asks, “Is she stealing his garen?”

***

Federico creeps quietly down the cave’s steep slope.  He’s looking for motion, for Peachtree, for any sign of danger.  His ears are scanning the air for anything- any sound.

He stops.

Scratching, something climbing up- Peachtree?  He squeezes aside and holds his breath.  In a few seconds, Benjy Peachtree climbs up past him and back out of the cave.

Federico slowly, carefully, descends.

***

When Benjy Peachtree emerges from the cave and spots Ed leading his garen off, he cries out, “Hey!  Stop!”  And he immediately draws his sling and looses a stone.

Ed drops the garen’s reins long enough to draw her bow and fire.

“What is she doing!” gasps Sandy.

“Ed, NO!” Mama cries, rising up.

Too late.  

The arrow takes Benjy Peachtree in the eye.  He collapses.

“He was _attacking_ me,” Ed wails.

“You were stealing his garen,” Sandy groans, and slaps his forehead.  And then, as if the universe itself were conspiring against them, the ground suddenly shakes.  An earth tremor!

***

Federico creeps to the bottom of the cave, and he sees a small crawlway.  He looks at it uneasily.  It looks like it opens into a room right away- but while he was crawling through, he’d be exquisitely helpless.  If there’s anything in the room.  

Shivering slightly, Federico turns to climb back out, but suddenly the ground starts to shake, and to his horror he sees rocks start to fall all around the entrance up above.  A choking cloud of dust rises up, obscuring his darkvision for a moment.  When it clears, he sees to his dismay that the exit is blocked.

“Arf,” he says miserably.

***

Peachtree is alive, and Mama tends him quickly.  A _cure light wounds_ brings him around, but he’s dazed and confused- and he’s lost an eye.  Pale faced and grim, he mounts his garen without a word.  Our heroes protestations fall on deaf ears as Peachtree glowers at them, glares at the collapsed entrance to the cave, and wheels his mount around and leaves.  

“Crap,” moans Sandy.

“Hey, where’s the dog?” asks Mama suddenly.  

Everyone looks at the collapsed cave.

_*Next Time:*_ All right, Federico, you know where you have to go to find... the Secret Ingredient!!

*Tallfellow halflings, in Cydra, can speak with equine creatures like a gnome speaks with small burrowing mammals.


----------



## the Jester

*Secret Ingredient pt. 2!*

Federico shivers in the cold cave.  At least it’s dry.

He sneezes, raising more dust- said dust being the reason he sneezed in the first place.  

He glances at the small crawlway that seems to be his only exit.  Whimpering softly, tail between his legs, he squats down and tries to see what’s on the other side.  All he can make out are a few rocks and a bit of floor.  It looks like it opens up after only about six feet.  With a sigh, he starts squirming through the crawlway.  For a few seconds he’s terrified as he nears the other end.  What if there’s a guardian?  What if there’s a monster, like that ogre zombie they fought a while back?  What if there’s some sort of deadly trap?

What if there’s no way out?

He whimpers again, but finally drags his body out of the crawlway and into another chamber.  And something smells _delicious._

***

“Could he have survived?” wonders Trinia.

“Depends on what’s down there,” muses Sandy.  “He’s a good dog- we’ve got to at least _try._”

Our heroes survey the mass of stone that has collapsed inward, sealing off their kobold friend.  It looks to be tons of material.  It looks impossible.  

“Let’s get to work,” says Mama.

***

_What the hell is _ that?

The chamber is small, almost cramped even for him alone; it seems to be a natural cave with a single elevated shelf.  On this shelf there is- something.  

_It smells so good..._  Federico is fascinated.  Whatever the stuff is, it appears to be _growing_ on the stone.  It’s a weird silvery color, almost iridescent; and it looks like... like... like nothing he’s ever seen before.  The closest thing that Federico can come up with is gelatin, a halfling dessert with a strange, shiny, jiggly surface and a near translucent appearance.  

The temptation to eat the stuff is so strong that Federico, after a long moment’s hesitation, decides to exit the small cave.  Besides, there is no obvious exit.

He crawls out, then catches his breath without.  

Cocks his head, as if listening.

_Was that- yes!  A tapping!_

Elated- his clan is trying to save him!- Federico bounds up to the rubble, then raps on it with a rock, eliciting a sharp sound.  He does this again and again, as long as his pitiful strength lasts (which is, in fact, a very short time).

_They know I’m alive, now,_ he thinks.  He can definitely hear things shifting.  But if they’re at the entrance, and it’s collapsed all the way to him- he’ll starve before they can dig him out.

Unless he eats that _stuff._

Shivering, the little kobold moans in distress.  “Arf,” he says heavily.

_Well, maybe there’s a secret exit- a back door.  Big villains always have secret escape routes in all the old stories.  I can at least search around._  So thinking, Federico begins tapping on the walls, feeling for hidden seams or levers, and so forth.  He doesn’t really expect to find anything; after he examines the remains of the entry tunnel- the part not collapsed and filled by the cave-in- he contemplates checking out the secret ingredient room as well, but it makes him very nervous. 

Listening again at the entrance, he thinks, _They sound far off... it will take a long time to free me._  Unhappily, he suddenly realizes that it might not be his friends- it _could_ be Benjy Peachtree.

It seems he’s caught between a rock and a hard place, as the dwarves say.

With a groan of unhappiness, Federico scrambles back into the chamber with the glistening stuff.  The aroma wafts over him, but he manages to keep focused on his task.*

After a few moments of searching around, Federico is surprised to locate a secret exit- a back door, if you will.  An escape hatch.  _What do you know,_ the bard thinks in wonder.  _There is something to all those old stories after all._  Immediately, he trots out the secret back cave and, upon following it for several hundred yards, emerges beyond a rise, in a boulder-strewn defile.  Quickly he scrambles over the broken landscape and heads towards his friends.  

Reaching them in only a few moments- and they are, indeed, pulling stones from the entrance of the cave; it’s truly _hopeless_ from that approach- Federico hails them and the group rushes together happily.  Quickly he tells them what he found- “I’m not really sure,” he admits- and the group relates the sudden escalation into violence of the encounter with Benjy Peachtree.

“He was attacking me,” Airhead Ed pouts, then bursts into tears. 

“You were stealing his garen!”  Sandy shakes his head in distress.  “That’s fine and all, but don’t do it when we’re trying not to let him know we’re here!”

“What’s done is done,” Mama shrugs.  “Let’s focus on what to do next.”

Sandy says, “Benjy Peachtree isn’t just going home to cry out his remaining eye.  He’s probably going to be pretty pissed off about this whole incident.”

“Do you think he’s going to come after us?” Trinia asks.

Sandy shrugs eloquently.

“Let’s get back to the Bakeswells,” Mama decides.  “Maybe they can help smooth things over somehow.”

So the party strikes out immediately, neither returning to Blackwood first nor even seeking a major road.  They head directly, across the countryside, for the Bakeswells’ camp of wagons.  Leanne is waiting there to hear the outcome of their mission; she probably isn’t expecting what they’re going to have to tell her.

_*Next Time:*_ On the lam!


*As is often the case with 3rd Edition, an initial successful saving throw constituted immunity for 24 hours.


----------



## the Jester

(I'm cross-posting this to all my current and recent story hour threads.)  

Well, gang, Lester's player is having a baby so he's not gonna be able to game with us nearly as often as he previously has. 

Since neither of us are made happy by this, we've been discussing playing a game by email, but it occurs to me that there's a great place to play a game via the messageboards, so I've proposed this to him. I like the idea- even if he's not big on it, I think that before too long I'm going to start a Cydra play by post for people who can't come over to my house to play.

Any of my readers interested in getting involved with this? Especially if you can post once per day or more.  I'll probably be posting a recruiting thread soon, but I'll give you guys first chance to jump on the Cydra wagon.


----------



## the Jester

*On the Lam*

It was a reasonable spring day near the end of Newmonth as our heroes began their climb into the Stern Mountains, heading south towards the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment.  Ed was downcast, crying off and on throughout the day; it was her fault they were on the lam, after all.

The Peachtrees, as Leanne Bakeswell had pointed out, are a powerful and wealthy clan.  Shooting one of their scions in the eye was sure to elicit an unfavorable response of some kind.  Best to head elsewhere for a while.  

So our heroes had perked right up when Sandy had said, “Hey, I know what we can do!”

The vegetation, as they climb up the skirts of the Stern Mountains, consists of tough, stringy scrubs able to survive harsh seasons without much water.  After all, the Stern Mountains tended to be steep enough, in many cases, that what rain fell just sluiced right down to the inevitable valleys and chasms at their roots, spending hardly any time at all with the native plants.  And then there were always droughts- with the Grey Waste encircled in the center of the mountains, it was said that half the moisture that fell was sucked away by the ashen desert.  

Still, crossing the mountains is a must if the group is going to reach the asylum where, apparently, Sandy’s friend Norman, who is (again, according to Sandy) imprisoned against his will, awaits rescue.

To this end, the group has hired a guide, a human named Nyrin who spoke brusquely and is clearly not too educated.  However, he knows a bit about the local area, and he constantly points out examples of what he calls “catastrophic” geography- shaped by powerful forces of magic or divine power in the past. 

Nyrin is also a bigot of a surprising stripe.  During the journey he reveals his opinions of elves as liars and thieves.  Worse, he tells the halflings, the elves are holding out on the other races.

“Holding out on what?” asks Federico.

“The secret of immortality!  You ever wonder why elves live so long?  They _know something!_  And they ain’t sharing!”  Nyrin shakes his head.  “Some day, somebody else is gonna get wise to them and start burning forests until they tell!”

Several members of the group are appalled at the man’s attitude; others are more intrigued by his assertions. 

Two days into the mountain, as the group traverses a fairly narrow ledge, a group of seven goblins comes into view around a bend.  There are a few rounds of exploratory missile fire back and forth to no real effect; then Federico charges forward on his dog, and streams into a goblin and first knocks it down and then savagely tears out its eyes!  The shrieking goblin demoralizes his friends, who waver and break as the dogs and wolf rush forward and a steady stream of thrown weapons and slung stones rains down around them.  The engagement is over in only a few moments, with a total victory on the part of the halflings, who even manage to find and rescue a captive (calling himself Lovejuice), who shows an interest in Federico, following him around and muttering about Saint Yurnam.

After a night of exhausted sleep spent on a ledge, the party continues along.  They are now three days in.  Their guide seems competent, though he showed no aptitude for combat with the goblins.  (He had climbed to an overlook to try rolling a big boulder down on the goblins, but by then the fight was over.)  Continuing through the mountains, trying to stay on whatever paths they can find, the party finds themselves nearly trapped by a sucking mud pit.  Sandy loses a shoe, but manages to retrieve it with his longspear.  Still, they vow to be more careful.

The group comes into an area where it appears they’ll have to climb a rather steep ledge.  Federico groans in resignation.  And then-

Charging out from atop the ledge, clinging to the walls like spiders, but looking like some bizarre scorpion/spider cross, two weird _things_ come towards the party!*  Before anyone can react, one of them snatches Nylin in one of its pincers!  The guide screams in pain, then jerks and goes limp and it squeezes him.

“Oh no, our guide!” cries Mama.  “We have to save him, or we’ll be lost in the mountains!”

The party surges forward, but the monstrous creatures retreat back up the cliff to feast.  With cries of dismay, the group pursues, clambering after them- and finds themselves facing not two, but _four_ of the monsters!

Brother He leaps in to the attack, Mama quick on his heels.  The others rush forward or lend the support of missile fire; but they all can see the body of their guide, a huge hole chewed in his stomach already.

The battle is long, but the clan claims its revenge.  

“Now what?” wails Ed.  “Where do we go?”

“Well,” says Sandy, and pauses.

“Let’s at least bury Nylin first,” whimpers Federico.  Mama nods.  The group checks him for maps- he has nothing on the scale required to guide them now- and then Mama gives a small sermon about the value of life, and of giving oneself for the clan.  It’s a morose little ceremony.  The others build a cairn for the guide while she speaks.  By the time they’re done it is staring to get dark.

“Well, at least it’s flat here,” Sandy sighs.  “We can rest.”

“What if there are more of those things?” the kobold whines, shivering.  

“We’ll kill them,” Mama snaps.  And, as traveling through the dark across rocky broken terrain seems like a worse path than resting somewhere potentially dangerous, the group sets camp.

Their night is uneventful.  The sounds of night animals, owls and wolves, reach them; but the wolves sounds like they are mostly down below and behind, and owls are no threat to a well-armed group of halflings.  Though they have on rare occasions been known to steal babies.

In the morning, Sandy climbs up a large rock and looks for any sign of, well, which way to go or something.  He scans the surrounding shafts of rock and sharp clefts in the ground.  Strange angles of stone, some areas smooth as if once liquid...

Something is shining.  Something big and several mountains away.  

Sandy waits a few moments to make sure he isn’t imagining it, then descends to tell the others.

“We make for the shiny,” Mama says decisively.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes begin journeying to the shiny object!



*Remember the thread about camel spiders a few months ago?  Just think if all the nasty stories were true, and they were medium-sized!


----------



## omrob

the Jester said:
			
		

> ?We make for the shiny,? Mama says decisively.
> 
> _*Next Time:*_ Our heroes begin journeying to the shiny object!




Real halfling bait, that.


----------



## the Jester

*Harried by a Hippogriff!*

Our small heroes clamber over rocks, follow narrow trails and scramble over scree that forms a shifting landscape beneath their feet.  The sun is pleasantly warm but the temperature varies widely as their elevation rises and falls as they climb up and down the skirts of the mountains.

When the first night of the halflings’ journey towards the shiny place falls, they are at the top of a cliff that drops a sheer hundred feet.  As they set up their camp, they regard the descent dubiously, glancing nervously at the lengths of rope they have stowed on their beetle.

In the morning, they descend the cliff and follow a cleft between two of the mountains.  Hardy grasses and wild flowers grow all along their path; to one side a small creek trickles rapidly towards the bottom of the mountains.  The group stops for lunch in a widening of the cleft, almost a valley.

It is while they are eating lunch that Brother He hisses a warning at the group.

They flatten down against the ground, the high grasses and stringy brush serving to give them concealment, and they watch apprehensively as a strange figure, humanoid but with the head of a yak, moves through their general area.  It doesn’t seem to notice them, and in any event causes them no trouble (save perhaps that caused by their own nervousness), and soon our heroes pick themselves up, finish their meal and continue along their way.

Soon they find themselves struggling up a frustrating mountainside whose face seems covered in loose fragments of shale and a thin coat of pebbles.  The footing is terrible; even barefoot, the halflings spend almost as much time sliding back down as they do clambering upwards, but slowly they manage to make progress.  

“There!” Sandy points out excitedly at one point, when the group clambers past a recess in the mountain that allows them a view of the far side.  There is a glinting something not more than another mountain away.  Mama Flapjacks smiles, and the others grin, taking heart. 

Then there’s a loud eagle cry from the sky, and the halflings have only an instant to look up before one of the many hippogriffs that live in the Stern Mountains is diving for them.  “Look out!” cries Brother He, shifting his body into a fighting stance; and Federico starts singing and japing humorously, trying to incite his companions into a courageous stand on the awkward footing.  Meanwhile the kobold himself laboriously cranks back the winch on his crossbow, his tiny muscles straining to the ultimate, and then slips a bolt into the slot.

Mama has scooped up a handful of rocks from the ground and is whispering a prayer over them when the hippogriff comes for her.  It swoops in, its eyes glinting, and makes a vicious grab for Mama with its talons; but the halfling matron throws herself flat against the slope with a yelp!  The creature’s wings beat furiously as it pulls up short, giving a screech of hungry frustration, and then suddenly its cry changes to one of pain as Federico’s crossbow bolt zings into its wing!  

“Get it, Ethel!” Federico urges his dog, and she’s off like an arrow, barking and growling as if her volume reflected the intensity of her dislike of this big bird-garen thing.  But Ethel has trouble clambering up the shifting slope, just like everyone else, and can’t get close enough to attack.  

The hippogriff’s wings beat again, and it spares a talon for Mama before it tries to pass over our heroes.  There’s a splash of red as the claw rips across Mama Flapjacks’ arm and she spins out of control with a cry, sliding down the scree.  “EEEEEK!!!” she shouts.  The great beast’s wings, meanwhile, begin to raise it away from our heroes’ reach.

But Sandy is having none of that.  His spear, though sized for a halfling, is enough to prevent an easy escape for the monster.  A strong thrust hits it directly in the belly, and the hippogriff gives a terrible scream, almost a whinny, and loops of guts explode outward.  The griff falls onto the cliff side and starts doing an odd combined slide and roll down the scree.  Mama manages to halt her own descent just as the hippogriff’s corpse comes down towards her, and is sadly shoved further down slope before she can arrest her passage.

Panting, the group tosses a rope down to Mama and helps her return to the rest of them.  Grumbling, she brushes the dirt off and the group continues their climb, soon reaching a ledge where they determine to spend their evening.

”Climbing sucks,” complains Federico, then passes into an exhausted sleep.

Early the next day the group reaches the shoulder of the mountain and with a ragged cheer they cross over.  The descent is easier than the ascent was; but crossing the grassy valley they find themselves in is, unfortunately, not nearly so easy.

”Why, look at that,” Mama comments.

The valley is split by a deep chasm.  It looks to split the entire length of the valley; and it looks to be somewhere around a half mile to the bottom.

Frowning, our heroes examine it.  “I doubt whether we have enough rope to make it to the bottom,” Sandy comments thoughtfully.

“Not more climbing,” groans Federico in despair.

“Look at that,” says Brother He.  “There’s a bridge across.”

Crowding around, the others look at where he’s pointing.  

“That’s a bridge, all right,” Mama says.  “But it’s about a third of the way down there.  How do we reach it?”

“Was that something moving at the bottom?” asks Sandy nervously.  “I can’t tell, it’s too far down...”

“Well, whatever it was, we’re about out of time for today,” announces Mama.  “It’s almost time for the sun to go down.”  She puts her hands on her hips.  “All right, boys and girls; let’s set up camp.”

The others nod.


_*Next Time:*_ Undead in the night!


----------



## the Jester

*Tragedy in the Night*

_The night of 5/4/368 O.L.G._

Our heroes rest around a low fire.  The stars are brilliant; the air, though cold, is clean and fresh, and still enough that the smoke from their little campfire doesn’t blow in anyone’s face but rather manages to rise above our heroes’ heads before dispersing gradually into the sky.

Snuggling down, the halflings (and the dogs) are just beginning to nod off.  Brother He is on watch and has taken to lighting brush on fire and dropping it down into the chasm, hoping to illuminate the bridge more clearly.  He has been attempting this without success for some time when there is a strange sound, like a windlass slowly being let out.

“What was that?” whimpers Federico.  

Mama gets up and pulls her mace.  “I’m not sure, but it makes me nervous,” she says primly.  “Best to be safe- we should keep a watch for a while.”

_Hmm,_ thinks Federico, _maybe we should have discouraged He from sending flaming vegetation down below..._

Time passes.  The sounds of insects in the night and the crackling of the fire are all that our heroes can hear.  Finally they begin to relax again.  And then, without enough noise to hear, a small form dashes into the camp!

“Gah!” cries Federico.

It’s the skeleton of a dog or wolf- and before the party has a moment to respond, it’s on Ethel, Federico’s dog, with a fierceness that belies its size.  Ethel responds as any big, tough dog will: she tears savagely into the bone hound, and it cannot withstand her powerful bone-cracking jaws.  In an instant the living dog has slain the undead one.

But there are more of them... more than a handful.  Skeletons swarm forward into the campsite.  It’s only a matter of moments before the party, half-sleeping, is overwhelmed...

Mama cries, “Taste the light of Lenorash!”  She channels positive energy, turning the undead, and they flee into the night from her holy energies.

Federico looks at her, awe on his face.  “Wow!”  She winks at him.

***

Later that night, the undead return. 

Complacently asleep until almost too late, the halflings are woken just in time by Brother He.  They start scrambling for their feet even as the bony enemy advances into their midst.  Federico scrambles aside, laying a _mage armor_ on Brother He.  The monk smashes a fist through the skull of one of the skeletons, shattering its cranium; but the thing doesn’t even slow down.  It advances on him implacably.  

The dog pack springs into action.  Brother He’s dog rips a skeleton’s leg off, felling it; another strikes it with a rusty spear.  The dogs bark and howl, a frenzy of noise and violence.  

Mama grimaces.  _If I turn them again, they’ll just return again,_ she realizes.  Glancing around, she scoops up a handful of rocks and begins praying to Lenorash.  They begin glowing softly in her hand.

Then a fleshy, shambling corpse springs at her.  

This one is not skeletal; it is the color of a buried body that has dug its way free but not yet had a bath.  Stringy hair exists on its head in tufts.  A long, black tongue falls out of its red mouth.  Its teeth are a jagged mess.

Mama hurls a stone at it and hits it in the head.  There is a soft ‘whump’ and a spray of dirty gobbets of flesh from the monster’s head.  It shakes itself once, as if ensuring that it’s still standing, and then swings one of its filthy hands at Mama Flapjacks’ head.  She ducks to one side and it almost misses, but instead it catches her by the ear, tearing it free. 

Mama gives out a blood-chilling scream.  

Something white, a small simulacrum of her, seems to flow from the wound into the monster.  Mama staggers, gasps, and falls.*

“Mama!” screams Federico.  “NOOOOOO!!!”

Brother He and the dogs are tearing skeletons apart, but the wight is unopposed.  It turns to the kobold, licking its lips.  Its wound has clearly healed somewhat.  Federico tumbles away, desperately bringing a _mage armor_ into existence around himself.  The horrible monster pursues, and he drops back past the dog pack.  Ethel immediately springs to his defense, as does Brother He’s dog.

Snarling, the wight strikes wildly for Ethel but misses.   Another blow strikes Brother He’s dog, who yelps and backs off, growling.  Moving as quickly as he can, Brother He is destroying skeleton after skeleton; and finally, he springs in to aid the fight against the wight.  

“You killed Mama!” cries Federico, firing _disrupt undeads_ from his fingers.  _Zap!  Zap!_  Again and again he unleashes his cantrip fury.  The monster finally begins to falter.  It hisses in rage as it ducks a blow from Brother He’s mighty pounding fist, and then Ethel leaps for its throat and drags it down to the ground.  In an instant the dogs are upon it in a terrible, rending mass.  In less than twenty seconds they’ve torn it completely apart- but they leave the pieces.  None of them, dog or wolf, will eat this flesh.

“Mama!” wails Federico, weeping.

***

The halflings, exhausted, cry for an hour before they even have a snack.  

“What are we going to do now?” wails Federico.

“We should burn her body,” Brother He says stoically.  “Some undead will spawn through their victims.”  He cannot suppress a shudder at the thought of fighting Mama Flapjacks.

They take her money and cooking implements, and Federico takes her rainshield.  (She was the only one other than Brother He to purchase one.)  Then they build a pyre and burn her corpse before it can rise to hunt them.  

“We had best move our camp,” Brother He says gently, and they do- traipsing almost a half mile from the chasm.  Then they fall towards an exhausted slumber, with neither fire nor joy, and as the dawn starts to creep in they cry themselves to sleep.


_*Next Time:*_ New friends!  The Neversun Chasm!  And even more tragedy for our heroes!


*This was a critical hit that dealt two negative levels to Mama.  She, alas, was 2nd level.


----------



## weiknarf

poor mama


----------



## the Jester

Yeah, I loved Mama.   

Unfortunately, I'm a 'let the dice fall where they may' kind of dm, and so that's precisely what I did.  I try really hard not to play favorites.


----------



## Mathew_Freeman

*sniff*

But she did her part up until then! She was a brave and courageous leader, and her turning of the undead in the first place probably saved the lot of them.


----------



## threshel

I'm crushed.  Mama was such a great character.  But, as is so often true when a party member is lost, I am looking forward to seeing what new character arrives.  Mama was a PC, right?
Losing a PC is always bittersweet.

J


----------



## the Jester

Two new pcs, actually.   This session we were joined by Elder James, who found us through ENWorld!

Anyway.......





***


_8:30 am, 5/4/368 O.L.G., somewhere in the Stern Mountains, Strogass_

The smoke from the halflings’ fire rises into the air.  Despite the loss of Mama- a loss that affects our heroes deeply- life must go on, and it all begins with breakfast.  The smell of cooking sausages and porridge rises, carried by the morning winds, out across the grassy valley, winding its way through the brush and tickling a sensitive nose.

The nose, of course, it attached to a face; that face to a neck, and that to a torso, and so forth.  The face is dirty and unkempt, with hair matted with leaves and twigs; but the body is a familiar size.  Could this be a wild halfling?  Indeed it is.  And following his nose, clutching a stick in one hand, the halfling cautiously creeps closer to our heroes’ small camp.  

Smells tasty.  

He tromps forward openly once he sees that they’re other halflings.  He wonders if any of them are survivors from his tribe, but once he’s close enough to make out faces he realizes forlornly that it isn’t to be.

Still, at least they’re halflings.

“Hello,” a little voice pipes up as he approaches.  He’s still acting cautiously, but he’s allowed them to see him.

But this one isn’t a halfling- it’s a dogling of some sort!  It stands on two legs, but it looks like- ahhh, a kobold.  Right.  

The wild halfling pokes Federico with his stick.

“Uh- right,” sniffs Federico.  He ponders for a moment, then rummages in his pack.  He extends his hand, holding something... the wild halfling’s nostrils flare.  “Uh, would you like a biscuit?  It was baked by s-someone very important...”  And the little kobold bursts wailing into tears.

The wild halfling pokes the biscuit with his stick.

***

By the end of breakfast the group has ascertained a little about their savage visitor, but not much.  His name is Jawbreaker; he is traveling alone.  Though he doesn’t seem lost, he seems directionless.  

The party tells Jawbreaker dozens of stories about Mama Flapjacks.  They let him sample many of her dishes- or at least, the ones that remain in their camp.  The few last precious samples of her masterful cooking... There are many tears.  Jawbreaker gnaws everything they give him and, though he listens to their stories, he doesn’t have much to say.  But that’s okay; what the clan needs is not someone to tell them it’ll all be okay, but rather someone to listen to them.  They need someone to pour it all out to, and- with his mouth full of food- Jawbreaker is that someone.  Answering only in occasional grunts as he masticates, he plays his role perfectly.

After breakfast, the group sets out to examine their situation.  Jawbreaker wanders along behind them picking his teeth and occasionally poking things with his stick.  Federico continues to talk to him, now relating the tales of the group’s recent adventures.  “So now we’re looking for this Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment,” he finishes.  “But we lost our guide, and now M-m-mama... we don’t know where we’re going!  Can you help us?” he implores plaintively.  

“Hmm,” grunts Jawbreaker.  “Okay.”  He shrugs.

The party examines the chasm.  It’s deep; as a guess, the group estimates that it’s near to a mile down.  There’s the bridge across it, but it must be a thousand feet to the bottom.  

“That’s a long way down,” Airhead Ed murmurs.

“How are we gonna get down there?” Federico whines.  “Not more c-climbing!”  He shivers.

“We can start with the undead,” Trinia suggests.  “Where did they come from?”

“We heard that noise before they came,” Federico remembers.

Brother He nods.  “Like a great chain or something.”

“They obviously came from somewhere,” the kobold continues.

“But where?” wails Ed.

“Let’s have a look around,” says Trinia.

***

_2 pm, 5/4/368 O.L.G., somewhere in the Stern Mountains, Strogass_

The sun is high overhead by the time the halflings find what they’re looking for.

Clearly, a very crude attempt at camouflaging the entrance was made; but the assumption must have been that nobody was likely to be in the little valley in the first place.  A rectangular box, painted green and covered with false grass and moss, thrusts from the ground.  Once it’s in sight, it’s obviously artificial; but the many shrubs and tall grasses and boulders in the vale conceal it from view until the group is nearly on top of it.  When they reach on it, Jawbreaker pokes it with his stick, then knocks on it; it seems to be made of wood. 

“What do you suppose that is?” wonders Trinia.

“It’s some kind of entrance,” Federico answers.

“I bet it’s guarded,” Ed whines, and the group falls into a small discussion about how best to enter the place without being forced to sacrifice whoever is first.  Jawbreaker snorts.  He’s been chopping a fair amount of brush up with his axe, and now he begins dragging the wood towards the entrance.  “Fire,” he grunts.

There’s a hatch on one end of the structure, with the handle obvious once the outer layer of false grass is lifted up.  Brother He examines it and weighs the odds, but holds off for the moment while the clan’s new friend piles wood around the structure and squats down to start a small fire.

“Hey, that’s a good idea,” Federico observes.  He sniffles, still riddled with sorrow over Mama.

The group lets the fire burn.

_2:30 pm, 5/4/368 O.L.G., somewhere in the Stern Mountains, Strogass_

Laodegan wipes his brow.  It’s starting to feel like summer, even in the mountains.  Not for the first time he curses his guide for having the effrontery to die without guiding him through the mountains.  Laodegan, after all, is a very important man on a very important mission for an even _more_ important man (Daddy).

Regardless, he’s lost in the mountains and it was starting to look like he would be getting hungry in another day or three.  But now- well.  Who can say, until he’s close enough to see; but there’s smoke rising, from something on fire.  

He moves through the grass towards the fire.  It looks controlled.  Someone is lighting something on fire.

Hopefully, whoever _isn’t_ on fire will be friendly and know their place.


_*Next Time:*_ Laodegan meets the party and vice-versa!  And not long thereafter bad things happen...


----------



## the Jester

*Brother He Gets (in) the Shaft*

_4:30 pm, 5/4/368 O.L.G., somewhere in the Stern Mountains, Strogass_

Our heroes watch the thing burn for quite some time, not realizing that someone else is watching them and listening to their conversation.  The valley falls into shadow as the afternoon lengthens, and only then does Laodegan step out, satisfied that these halflings are neither murderous bandits nor a pack of thieves.  Even if there is a kobold with them.

“Hello, there!” he calls out, approaching the group.  They turn to see a tall human, well-dressed in armor blazoned with some sort of important-looking human heraldic stuff.  An impressive sword is strapped across his back.

“Hello!” answers Federico cautiously.  Jawbreaker grunts and picks up his stick.  As the human newcomer enters the camp, the barbaric halfling pokes him.  The human stops and looks at him in surprise.

“Oh, don’t mind him,” says Airhead Ed.  “He does that to everything.”

Jawbreaker pokes Ed.

“You see?” she blathers on.  “He does it to everything!”

“Yes, uh, I see...”  He looks at them.  They look like they’re traveling, so he asks, “Do you know the way around the chasm?  I’m lost in the mountains- my guide had the nerve to go and die!  And, uh, I don’t suppose you can help?”

“Your guide died, huh?” Brother He commiserates.  

***

_11 pm, 5/4/368 O.L.G._

Once the embers have cooled to a reasonable level- helped with many buckets of water- the group clambers into the passage.  It leads to a room that evidently gets a reasonable amount of ventilation, for the air is hardly smoky at all.  The place is carved from the stone of the mountain, and therefore the room did not burn; only the odd wooden entry hall.

The room is of a decent size, but empty, save for a shaft that descends.  A rickety-looking ladder is fastened against the wall of the shaft with bent rusty nails.  However, the ladder proves sturdy enough for the group to descend on.  Brother He leads the way down, followed by Ed, and the ladder leads down for a long ways.  He descends 50’, then 100’... and there is no end in sight, even to his darkvision.

At the 120’ depth, Brother He finds himself suddenly assaulted by a scimitar-wielding pair of skeletons crouched on a small landing beside the ladder.  He is cut by one rusty blade before he even sees them.

As he feels warm blood trickle down his side, Brother He lashes out with a foot, crushing the first skeleton’s skull.  Then he leaps into the next one, splintering it into dozens of bones.  

“Are you all right?” calls Ed from above.

“Yes,” grits Brother He.  He winces as he feels the cut in his side.  “I got cut, but not too bad.” 

The deep halfling clambers back onto the ladder and continues to descend.

*** 

Brother He’s voice floats up from the shaft.  “There’s a landing!” he yells.

“Oh boy,” says Federico.  He’s leaning up against his big dog Ethel.  He looks imploringly at Laodegan.  “Um, can you carry the dogs down?  I’m too w-weak.”

Say what you will about him, Federico gives _great_ puppy dog eyes.

Laodegan grumbles all the while, but he rigs a harness for the dogs and straps one of them in.  Then he begins the descent.  The ladder creaks ominously and the squirming dog certainly doesn’t make his job any easier, but nothing goes terribly wrong.  He reaches the landing safely and unstraps the dog from his harness.  It licks his hand.  

“Whew,” he says, mopping his brow, and starts back up the ladder to get the next dog.  

***

Another pair of skeletons awaits Brother He on another small landing just past the 300’ mark.  All this climbing is going to get fatiguing before too long, and he still doesn’t see any end in sight.  

The second pair of skeletons doesn’t catch him unaware; it’s the other way around.  He leaps onto the landing and unleashes a flurry of blows at them all, knocking one down the shaft and destroying the other in a rapid exchange of fist vs. sword.  The skeleton scratches him along the thigh, and he winces, but it’s just a scratch.  He’s still doing okay.

“Second landing!” calls Brother He up the shaft.

***

“That you so much,” says Federico as Laodegan begins down the ladder to the second landing with Ethel.  “Say, can you take me down too?”

Laodegan’s only response is a dirty look.  He’s saving his breath for the climb.

***

Brother He rests for a few minutes before continuing down the shaft.  This time he descends a much further distance without trouble.  He can hear Ed clambering down about 10’ above his head.  

_Should have been paying more attention,_ he thinks with a shock.  Something’s just stabbed him in the meaty part of his left leg from below... and it’s bad.  He clenches his hands around the ladder and groans as the blood pumps from his severed artery...


_Note:_ This blow took Brother He to 0 hit points.  Which means that if takes any strenuous action, he’s taking a point of damage and losing consciousness.....

_*Next Time:*_ Oh no!  What will Brother He do?  Can he save himself?  Can anyone else??  And what’s at the bottom of the shaft?


----------



## the Jester

*Descent into the Neversun Chasm*

Brother He’s vision blurs as his lifeblood pours down his thigh.  He grips the ladder with trembling hands and glances down.

“Are you okay?” he hears Airhead Ed call from just above him in the shaft.

The ladder creaks as He looks down.  Below him the narrow shaft he is descending continues farther than his darkvision can see, but _just_ below him is another small landing- and a skeleton with a spear.

_If I try to climb away,_ he realizes, _it will attack me, and I’ll pass out even if he doesn’t hit me.  I’m too weak.  And if I stay here, he’s going to stab me and kill me.

There is only one chance._

Brother He measures the gap with his eyes and drops off of the ladder, trying to tumble past the skeleton and make it onto the ledge.  He loses consciousness as he twists away from the stabbing spear and smacks into the wall of the shaft, dropping away below. 

“BROTHER HE!!” screams Ed, and begins wailing.  

***

_Midnight, between 5/4 and 5/5/368 O.L.G., somewhere in the Stern Mountains, Strogass_


The group assembles at the first landing, where Laodegan has laboriously hauled all the dogs and wolves.  He’s tired and sweating and in a foul mood.

“Can you help us get past the skeletons?” Federico asks in a wavering voice.

“Get past-?  What?”  Laodegan looks askance at Federico.  “You’re mad!  You’re all mad!  Your friend just died down there, and for what?  This is foolish!  Let’s find a way around this, there has to be a better way!”

“Chasm,” Jawbreaker grunts. 

Laodegan stares at him for a moment.  “We can go around it,” he finally says.  “Around this whole mountain if we have to!  We-“

“We don’t even know how far the chasm extends,” Trinia sighs.  “We know it cuts through the whole valley.  This might be the best place to cross.”

“I tell you, it’s a fool’s errand!”

“Kill skeletons,” Jawbreaker snorts disdainfully.  He laughs from his belly. 

Laodegan shakes his head in exasperation.  “I’m going to regret this,” he growls.

***

Down the shaft again.  At least the dogs are still on the landing, so he won’t have to take them all the way again.  Hell, he isn’t sure he’d be willing to, but he’s no quitter, so he’ll finish what he’s started.  

Which makes him think of the messages in his pouch.  Which makes him think of Daddy, which makes him think of the Dark Emperor of Strogass.

_Where is he?_

Laodegan and Jawbreaker break through the skeleton fairly easily, though the human takes a wound to the leg and the barbarian suffers a prick as well.  Then it’s more shaft.  Jawbreaker takes the lead.

“Could Brother He have survived the fall?” Federico asks in a quavering voice.  “He was a monk...”

“He was unconscious,” Ed sniffles.  Her tears start anew.

Finally, after another long descent, Jawbreaker emerges into a long chamber hewn from the surrounding stone.  Weird fungi of various forms and colors grow everywhere.  Carefully he advances into the room as the others follow him down.

Federico sees Brother He’s body, and his heart grows so heavy with sorrow that he nearly bursts into tears.  Ed does so, of course.  Brother He is clearly dead, his neck twisted at an extraordinary angle and his eyes wide open as if surprised.  

Jawbreaker suddenly interrupts the group’s reverie with a shout.  Those that have descended have gathered around their friend’s corpse, except for the barbarian, who has moved on the check for danger.  It sounds like he’s found some.

But not much; in less time than it takes to tell the story, Jawbreaker, Trinia, Ed and Federico have finished their enemies: a pair of zombies covered in fungus.  

“This place is creepy,” Federico mutters.  He feels a little better when Laodegan arrives with Ethel, his loyal dog, but he’s still sad and scared and... and _creeped out._  This place is weird, it smells weird, it makes his head feel funny.

The halflings arrange Brother He’s body, leaving most of his meager possessions with his corpse.  The only thing they take is his rainshield- that strange opening device sold him by the gnomish inventor.  Federico sighs.  Now he’s got both the last reminders of both Mama and Brother He.  Well, except for Mama’s cooking stuff- _of course_ they took that.  That’s _important._

When at last Laodegan has brought the last of the animals down and caught his breath- no mean feat- he took a look around of his own.  The halflings, rightfully, were focused on their dead friend; so it fell to the human, grudgingly, to look after his new companions.  Well, Laodegan was nothing if not loyal; that was one value instilled in him at a young age.  

He gave them a little time to grieve, then strode over to the group and declared, “There’s a doorway over there.  I think we need to get out of here.  I’m not hauling those damn dogs up that ladder again, and I know it’s a hard time for you all here, but you need to pull it together.  Wait until you’re safe to grieve.”

Humans.  Always able to _do what needed doing._  No halfling clan could have pulled itself unaided out of its grief so quickly as a big folk giving them some stern shape-up and get with it sort of tough talking to.  And that’s just what they got, and just what’s happened: they put their crying on hold (except for Ed), they hid their grief (except for the quaver in Federico’s voice) and they trooped over to the fungus-covered door.


_*Next Time:*_ Federico communes with nature!  Or something.


----------



## threshel

Why, why, why?  

First Mama, now Brother He?
I need to sit down, I think I have something in my eye...

J


----------



## Angel of Adventure

*Jester loves killing PCs!*

A common thread in all of Jester's games is that he loves to kill his PCs.  For better or worse, he doesn't play favorites and I've seen a lot of great PCs get buried over the years.  

To my dead friend PCs, I tip my goblet filled with 4d6s for new stats and pour them out on your new character sheet, . . . and sigh.


----------



## the Jester

*Federico and the Mushrooms*

Laodegan pushes through the doorway, grimacing in disgust as spores puff up from the fungus.  The group proceeds cautiously down a hallway that opens into a room full of thriving fungus, toadstools taller than the halflings, smuts growing on the ceiling- a veritable garden of weird life.

“C-creepy,” Federico moans in fear.  Jawbreaker grunts.

Something moves.  

Laodegan whips his sword out and glares ahead.  A living mushroom, about 3’ tall, moves slowly towards the group.

“What the hell?” Martini exclaims.

_Poof!_  A spray of spores washes over the group.  Coughing, most of them back away, but Laodegan snarls through tearing eyes and hacks the mushroom creature down.

“Everyone okay?” asks Trinia.

The heroes nod.  Federico looks a little funny; his pupils have gotten really big and he’s got a funny look on his face. 

“Dog?” asks Sandy.  “Are you-“

“Wow, man,” Federico moans.  “It’s cool.”  He grins and starts laughing.  “They don’t want to hurt us.”

As the kobold talks, more of the creatures emerge from behind the fungus.  Laodegan clasps the hilt of his sword firmly.  He doesn’t like the looks of this.  Glancing at the far side of the chamber he can see a thick-looking white fungal membrane covering what might be an exit.  “Come on,” he urges the others, and starts towards it.

“It’s cool,” Federico says again, and gives out a contented sigh.  “They can help us... it’s dangerous... unless we take... a spiritual journey...”  He seems to be starting to ramble.

“We aren’t going on any kind of spiritual journey that involves breathing in those spores,” Laodegan replies firmly.  He snarls, “If they won’t let us out, I’ll cut our way out.”

“No, no- no violence,” Federico says dreamily.  “No violence.  But the only safe way... it’s dangerous... there are things... eaters...”

“Then they better let us out.”  The human gestures at the membrane.  “Is that a door?  Tell them to open it.”

“No, dangerous... might be... but they want to help...”  The kobold’s ramblings seem tangential, at best, to the conversation, and Laodegan turns away in disgust.

Jawbreaker looks at the dozen or so mushroom folk uneasily.  He sort of wants to eat them (mushrooms- yum!), but... they seem sentient.  He pulls out his stick and walks up to one and pokes it.  Firm, yet yielding- hmm.  Looks delicious.  Hmm....

“Tell them to back off,” Laodegan orders Federico, and starts hacking at the membrane.  The mushroom creatures slowly withdraw.  The kobold sighs heavily, looks slightly distressed, then sinks back into a smile.

The human’s sword cuts into the membrane again and again.  Slowly he hacks an exit through it, and as he does he feels a wisp of wind and sees a hint of sunlight, but not much of it.  After he carves a hole sufficient to allow him passage, he turns around.

”It leads to the bridge,” he says.

The group moves through the membrane; the mushroom folk remain at a small distance and make no hostile moves.  Laodegan burns with an angry distrust for them.  _They want to get into my mind!_

Leaving the fungus chamber behind our heroes find themselves at one end of a wind-swept bridge that crosses from one wall of the chasm to the other.  They can see, below them, in the darkness, small huts.  Not a single one of Jawbreaker’s burning bushes remains on the bridge.  The sounds of some sort of drumming or clashing sound wafts up to the bridge.  There are no lights.  Federico staggers across the bridge to check out the far side, but he’s clearly under the influence of the spores and not completely right in the head at the moment.

“Why don’t we rest?” the kobold suggests.  “I’m tired...”

The group agrees and settles in, setting watches.  Federico, his head starting to clear a little- he’s past the psychedelic peak of the spore experience- offers to take the first watch.  Laodegan grumbles, uncertain as to whether or not he can be trusted to stay awake, but in the end the others drift off while the kobold watches.  

He sighs, thinking about lost friends.  Brother He, Mama, Coco, so many of his friends, his clan mates...

He toys with the rainshields.  He saved both Brother He’s and Mama’s, but... but they’re both gone.  Perhaps...

Federico sighs.  He can barely carry them anyway.  He casts them over the edge of the bridge and bursts into tears.


_*Next Time:*_ What dangers were the mushrooms talking about, anyway?


----------



## the Jester

*The Eyeless Attack*

_4 a.m., 5/4/368 O.L.G., on the bridge in the Neversun Chasm, Strogass_

Our heroes are sleeping soundly, despite the discordant drumming below them.  That all changes when the monsters charge out of the darkness at the far end of the bridge, gibbering and japing.

“Rise!” screams Thelonious, who is on watch, and the others jerk awake in time to avoid being completely overrun and destroyed by the weird creatures.  There are four of them coming in two pairs.  As tall as a human, and upright like one as well, the beasts have skin the color of slate and stringy tangles of hair.  They are ugly, with sharp teeth and, most unsettling, no eyes.  They grip primitive stone axes eagerly as they rush forward.

Federico is struggling out of his blankets when the first pair falls on him, axes slicing into him and almost knocking him off the bridge.  The kobold screeches as blood fountains from his chest and side, and he staggers back, moaning and crying, to cast _cure light wounds_ on himself. 

“No!” cries Thelonious.  “Leave my friends alone!”  _Twang!_  An arrow shoots out, but the grey-skinned target jerks aside, and the missile whizzes past ineffectually.

Laodegan has reached the fight, his sword naked in his hand, and in the dim light from the torch set on the bridge he strikes one of the enemy down in a single blow.  Then he and Jawbreaker advance on another even as Thelonious sinks an arrow into the third, which Ethel (Federico’s dog) drags to the ground and proceeds to tear literally to pieces.  Jawbreaker thrusts with his spear, catching the one he and Laodegan are threatening in the groin, and drops it.

Only one remains, and it turns and flees.  For now, our exhausted heroes let it go.

“What if it goes and gets more of them?” Federico wails.  “Oh, I knew we should have listened to the mushrooms!”

“Listened to the-?  No, I don’t think so!  Are you crazy?”  Laodegan kicks one of the corpses over to examine it while he talks.  “Oh, that’s right- you _are_ crazy.  You’re _all_ crazy.  Why don’t we go back and go around this mad place and avoid it entirely?”

“Do you want to haul the dogs up again?” Thelonious asks reasonably.

“Your turn,” the other human replies flatly.  

“Not run,” scoffs Jawbreaker.  “Not coward.”

“We’ve come this far,” Thelonious adds.

“And we don’t even know how far the chasm goes, but it’s far,” Federico groans.  

Laodegan sighs and sits heavily on the bridge.  He is very tired; they all are.  They’ve had only a very short period of rest.  Not enough, certainly.

“All right,” he says at last.  “We _have_ come this far.  But mind you, we’re going straight up and out on the far side of the bridge!”

“As soon as we rest,” Federico interjects.  “I’m s-so tired.”

“Now look at this thing,” Laodegan continues, and the others cluster around the eyeless corpse.  “Look at the size of those ears and that nose.”  He smiles thinly.  “We should try to put together some pepper and spices and make as much noise as possible.”

Below them, in the valley at the base of the chasm, the sounds of the drumming seem to pick up a bit.  There’s a new sense of enthusiasm to them.

“I don’t think,” Thelonious sighs slowly, “we have _time_ to rest.”

“Oh no,” moans the kobold.  “The one that got away told his friends!”

Our heroes drag themselves up and quickly gather their meager possessions.  This takes only a minute or two.  Then they head to the other side of the bridge to investigate.  The question in their minds is a simple one: how do we go up and out?  But sadly, the only path seems to lead _down_ through the mountain towards the base of the chasm.

“Well,” Thelonious says.  

For a moment silence reigns; then Federico cries out, “Wait- look!”  He gestures and the others crowd around to look. 

A short distance away from them- but certainly out of reach without extreme climbing skill- is a treacherously narrow stair, carved into the side of the chasm.  It seems to lead from the bottom... up.  It’s impossible to see how far up it goes, but it surely leads to _something._ 

“Should we risk it?” Thelonious asks.

“Do we have a choice?” Laodegan asks in return, wryly.

And just as the group is readying to head down the path into the side of the cliff, a small figure rushes out towards them.  It’s mounted on a riding dog and it’s just the right size to be a halfling...

“Look out!” the newcomer cries, in a high, clear voice.  It’s a young halfling lass.  She leaps from the back of her dog.  “They’re coming!” 

“Who are you?” demands Laodegan, and the grimlocks come.


_*Next Time:*_ The grimlocks assault our heroes!  Who is the halfling lass?  And can the way down possibly be easy?


----------



## the Jester

*Grimlock Gauntlet*

_4:20 a.m., 5/4/368 O.L.G., on the bridge in the Neversun Chasm, Strogass_

Jawbreaker grins.  There are twigs in his beard, and there is a stick- his preferred poking stick- in his belt.  But his hands are tense on his spear.  

Half a dozen grimlocks rush forward at the party.  More are coming up behind them.

Jawbreaker thrusts forward with all his strength, roaring in pleasure as he connects.  The spear catches one of the grimlocks in the chest, piercing its sternum and heart.  Steaming blood bursts all down the barbarian halfling’s arms.  He roars again, quickly jerking his spear free, and strikes at another!*  This time his blow deflects partially from the eyeless creature’s ribs, tearing a great gash in it but not finishing it off.  It growls and makes to leap at Jawbreaker, but then Laodegan catches its head with his sword, smashing through its cranium and brain.  Yet another growls as an arrow from Thelonious zings into its thigh, and another still is tripped by the newcomer’s growling and barking dog.  Ethel (Federico’s dog) rushes in barking and tears another to the ground in a much more brutal fashion.  

The downed grimlock hacks at the dog of the newcomer, but misses.  Meanwhile, another moves forward wearing a chain shirt and wielding, rather than the crude axes the others have, a sword surrounded by a flickering green glow.  He springs forward and slices into Jawbreaker’s arm.  The barbarian drops his spear and whips out his axe, smiling crazily as he begins to dance with the grimlock captain.

“That’s the leader!” cries the newcomer.  She has somehow vanished, but she’s still audible.**

Thelonious keeps firing at the others, trying to whittle the fight down to the party vs. the grimlock captain.  He is brutally effective, sending arrows into the wounded grimlocks, sinking one deep into one of the monsters’ genitals and slicing them clean off, killing the beast instantly.  Another arrow bounces off of Laodegan’s armor when it goes astray.  “Watch it!” the other human cries, even as he cleaves through one of the grimlocks and into another.

“Sorry!” Thelonious yells back, continuing to fire.

There is blood slicking the floor, now.  The battle is nearly done.  Only the leader is still standing, swinging and drawing another red line on Jawbreaker’s chest with the glowing sword, and then Ethel drags him down.  Federico springs up to heal Jawbreaker and praise Ethel.  “Good job, Ethel!” he cries.

The grimlock manages to parry Laodegan’s strike from the ground and kicks the dog away, but Jawbreaker laughs heartily as he steps up and sinks his axe into the grimlock’s chest as if it were a tree stump.  There’s a loud _chunk_ as the axe destroys the monster’s breastbone, heart and lungs.  The glowing sword falls from its hand.

“Search ‘em,” Laodegan gasps.  Then he looks around for the newcomer.  “Where’s that girl?” he demands.  “Come out!”

She reappears from the shadows, tiny and camouflaged.  “I’m here.”

“Who are you?” the human demands.

“My name it Lita, of clan Alexander,” she replies.  “We have to get out of here!”

“We need to get past them,” Thelonious says.  “Were you down below?  What’s going on down there?”

“I’m an adventurer,” she says.  “I descended into the chasm, and there are those things.”  She gestures at the bodies.  “I was fleeing... I was afraid they were going to catch me and kill me.  I couldn’t have taken them all by myself, that’s for sure.”  She pauses.  “You need to get past them?  Well, there’s a stairway that goes up not far away from the bottom of this cave.”  She gestures at the passage at the far end of the bridge.  “That was their leader we just killed, so we might be able to break through while they’re confused.”

“Are they likely to send out another group?” whines Federico.  “We need to rest.”  His tail is between his legs.

“We could do it in the mushroom chamber,” suggests Thelonious, but Laodegan’s glare makes it abundantly clear what he thinks of that.  “How about their side of the bridge, then?  At least over there we’ll have a little more warning.”

“True enough,” Laodegan admits grudgingly.  

They make camp after looting.  In addition to the sword, the leader wore a chain shirt, and they also find a little over 300 gp in assorted coins and four garnets.  Most interesting, they find 21 electrum coins.  “These are obsolete,” says Federico.  “Nobody really mints them anymore.  They don’t really have a fixed value anymore, either, but they used to be worth about half a gold imperial.”

When the group divides up the treasure, Federico ‘forgets’ to include the electrum.  The others gently remind him.

Then they rest at the side of the bridge farthest from the cave, setting fearful watches and giving themselves time enough to heal a little and recover from the terrible ravages of their recent adventures.

_Midnight, between 5/4 and 5/5/368 O.L.G._

Once again Laodegan makes a futile attempt to talk sense into the mad halflings he’s fallen in with.  “I have things to do, I can’t die down here!” he tells them.  “Going into a grimlock village!  It’s madness.”

“We’re not going into the village, we’ll be sticking to the edge of the cliff until we reach the stairs,” Lita says.  “I think we’ll be able to get through while they don’t have a leader.”

“Besides, you keep saying you have things to do, but I think you’re making that up,” Federico says.

“Hmph!  I’ll have you know that I have a letter for the Governor of Stempa Province!”

“And he’s here, in the mountains?” Federico asks sarcastically.

“As a matter of fact, yes- somewhere.”  Laodegan harrumphs.  “But my guide had the gall to go and die on me.”

“Let’s go,” Jawbreaker says impatiently.

They move across the bridge and down the sloping cave.  “We might as well light torches, since they can’t see anyway,” Laodegan comments, and they do.  The passage has obviously been hewn into the wall of the cliff here by long hard work.  Rubble is to either side of the path that our short heroes (and their human friends) walk down.  They are unopposed as they follow a series of switchbacks hacked out of the stone, descending for almost half an hour before finally, nervously, reaching the bottom.  

“Carefully,” Lita whispers, and moves ahead.  The others follow her.  

Outside all is dark.  Even if it were noon, it is doubtful that there would be any significant light that reached this far down.  The group knows there are huts not far away.  They swiftly follow the edge of the cliff.  There are only scattered drumming sounds from the direction of the huts; the enthusiasm of the early pursuit of Lita has faded.  

Suddenly there’s a howl, and a crude javelin clatters past Federico’s terrified head.  “Look out, they’ve seen us!” the kobold cries.  

The group moves swiftly, running full tilt for the stairs up the side of the mountain.  There are more howls behind them and another pair of javelins misses them.  The group rushes up the narrow stairway; it’s barely wide enough for two of them to travel side by side, and it’s too narrow to fight comfortably on.  The sounds of pursuit follow them for a few minutes, but then the grimlocks give up, seemingly unwilling to go too far up the stairway.

“We made it!” Thelonious grins.

“We’re not at the top yet,” Laodegan snaps.  The group climbs for several hours and finally emerges at the top in the sunlight of early morning.  Then, clearly, it’s time to break for a meal.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes finally reach the shiny thing!  What is it?



*The ol’ ready action plus AoO from reach combo. 

**Combo of shrinking to tiny size and _chameleon_.  Her Hide check was something about 40, iirc.


----------



## the Jester

*The Gnome-Home*

_1 p.m., 5/6/368 O.L.G., in the Stern Mountains, Strogass_

“There it is!” 

Tired, footsore, the halflings (and their allies) have at last crested the shoulder of the last fold in the land before the shiny thing they’ve been seeking since before Mama’s death.  Below them, not a quarter mile away and only a few hundred feet below, is some sort of circular doorway leafed in gold and gems and set with dozens of reflective pieces of glass and polished stones.  Federico lets out a low whistle; it’s very impressive to see.

Our heroes move towards it.  There is a pair of gnomes out front, guarding the place, and inside twenty minutes the group has learned that they have arrived at the Gnome-Home.  The entrance is a continuous, ongoing work of art; several large mirrors above the entrance itself in the mountains cast the lights of dawn for miles to certain specific places.

Laodegan fingers the hilt of the magic sword he took from the grimlock captain.  On the journey a strange brain-like monster with what seemed like hundreds of tentacles had attacked them, but his new blade had made a noise like thunder and let out a flash of emerald radiance every time it had hit it- and obviously had done terrific damage to it.  He didn’t understand why it hadn’t done that to the grimlocks, but the more the blade did the better, as far as he was concerned.

Our heroes are ecstatic to be able to rest for a few days, to have some civilized company and to be somewhere without the constant threat of attacking monsters hanging over their heads.  They spend several days at the Gnome-Home, replenishing their supplies and enjoying a break.  They manage to buy a healing potion and to have Laodegan’s new sword _identified_.  Federico even finds a scroll for sale; it bears a spell he’s never heard of, _delicious aroma,_ and he purchases it. 

The sword, though of minor enhancement, was crafted to destroy some of the least natural creatures that exist.  It is a bane to aberrations of all sorts.  “What’s its name?” Laodegan asks the sage who _identified_ it for him.

“_Cleansing,_” the gnome says in a nasal voice.

“Cleansing.”  Laodegan frowns.  “Doesn’t exactly inspire fear, does it?  Not exactly a ‘Goresprayer’ or ‘Brainwrecker,’ is it?”

The gnome looks nonplussed.  “I did not give it its name, I merely report it,” he answers sagaciously, and Laodegan doesn’t really have anything to say about that; but he does determine to rename the damn blade as soon as he thinks it over for a while.  

_10 a.m., 5/9/368 O.L.G._

Laodegan is impatient to get going.  He and the kobold talked the others into hiring a guide, and the gnomes, fortunately for him, have given him the direction he needs.

He’s been following the Governor Bastor of Stempa Province for weeks now, since finding that he had left his capitol with a small army.  It had seemed as though he was traveling from area to area, gathering the support of his vassals and trying to make accommodations with certain others.  Laodegan frowns.  At least the gnomes seem to know where he was- it’s hard to miss an army in the mountains!

But, from the sounds of things, at least some of Bastor’s army had gone underground, with the governor himself leading the way.  They had descended, according to the gnomes, towards an outpost of dark elves.

The mysterious Drow- Laodegan has never met one, but he has a feeling he might well soon.  As soon as the others finish their damn second breakfast and their guide- a fellow named Gelpurt- arrives, they can leave, heading into the Underdark.  Fortunately, it sounds as though the waterway they’ll be traveling on will dump them out much closer to the halflings’ goal- some insane asylum.  Fitting, really...


_*Next Time:*_ Into the Underdark!

***

_Cleansing_- Longsword +1, aberration bane.


----------



## the Jester

*Into the Underdark*

_11 a.m., 5/11/368 O.L.G., the Underdark beneath Strogass_

Our heroes are tromping through the sunless world known as the Underdark.  Beneath the mountains and hills, thousands of miles of tunnels and caves twist and interconnect, a maze sure to claim the unwary.  The stalactites and stalagmites seem to make out the figurative mouth that will consume them.  Pillars of stone are everywhere.  Weird formations of rock seem to drip down walls and from the ceiling overhead, but when they are touched our heroes find them as hard as any other piece of stone.  Moisture seems to be everywhere; little trickles of water are constantly following the downward path towards some unseen subterranean waterway.  Weird puffballs, toadstools as high as a halfling’s head, luminescent fungus and more strange growths seem to exude from the walls and floor like strange organs.

The party has already ascertained that they are not alone down here.  

Even without Gelpurt’s warnings, they would have smelled and heard the strange white cave lions.  Their gnomish guide warned them as they entered the fungal area; the strange underworld bugs and beasts have a food chain of their own, and strangers are welcome to enter it- as prey.  Already, the group has fought off one of them, which almost claimed Lita’s riding dog.  If it weren’t for Ethel, it would have.

Thelonious and Laodegan walk together and have some good human bonding time.  Thelonious explains how the halflings raised him after his parents were slain by wolves in a harsh winter during his youth.  Laodegan, for his part, lets a few bits of his background show- it seems his father is someone _very important_ on Strogass.

They walk and rest, walk and rest, walk and rest for days.  There are many small beetles and other creepy-crawlies, but for quite some time there is no danger.  Then, from a dark crack in the floor, a spider as large as a man, perhaps even larger, springs forth.  It is easily killed by the two humans, who then spend a good hour unsuccessfully trying to pull anything of value from its jagged little chasm.  Thelonious loses the game of scissors-paper-stone, and grudgingly lowers himself into the chasm.  He can make out a few cocooned bodies, but it’s impossible to extract them without either a better climber, better gear, or magic.  

Shrugging, they move on through league after league of darkness.

_8 p.m., 5/13/368 O.L.G._

Finally, the sound of the waterway starts to be audible.  Faintly at first, then increasing in intensity, the roaring sound of an Underdark river comes to the ears of our heroes.  It’s another hour or so before they finally reach it, but when they do they are greeted by a startling sight: a small camp of Strogassian soldiers, sporting the flag of Stempa Province.

“Well, well,” Laodegan says with satisfaction, but to his chagrin he rapidly discovers that the Governor and his honor guard have proceeded ahead.  The Commander in charge of the camp here, one Porempna by name, offers our heroes room in a tent.  Laodegan and he meet for a few drinks of tiley and some conversation, during which Porempna becomes quite impressed by Laodegan’s manner and bearing.  He seems like an officer- at least.

“The Governor is building alliance with a group of Drow, and they aren’t the first ones we’ve talked to,” Porempna tells Laodegan.  “This looks, so far, to be an extremely successful journey.”

“Well, hopefully all will continue to go well.  Now then, when will he be back?  I have a _very important message_ for him from my father.”

“Ah, as to that, who can say?”  Commander Porempna shrugs.  “The Governor does not report to me.  He will be there for as long as it takes.”

“Perhaps you could take us there?”

Porempna shakes his head.  “I’m afraid my orders are to remain here and ensure that the waterway remains clear for the return journey.  You could leave the message with me, however, and I’ll happily see to it that it’s delivered.”

“I’m afraid my instructions are quite specific.  I am to deliver it to him, personally.  My father would be most displeased if I were to pass the responsibility to another.  But on the other hand,” he leans in close, “he would be most _pleased_ if you were to aid me, and he is definitely not the sort to forget a favor done his son.  He is in a position of... some authority.”

Commander Porempna arches an eyebrow.  “Indeed?”

“Yes.  He is Imperator Decius.”

“Decius!”  Porempna leans back in his folding chair.  “So.  I’ve always wanted to see the south... Well, perhaps I could loan you a few men and a boat...”

Laodegan smiles.  Nothing like being the son of the steward of the Imperial City.


_*Next Time:*_ The Outpost of the Drow!


----------



## the Jester

*Governor Bastor*

_7 a.m., 5/14/368 O.L.G., the Stempan camp in the Underdark_

Laodegan arrogantly claims four soldiers from Porempna’s force and then gathers the party up.  They proceed to a series of small boats and thence down the dark river that flows through the caves.  Along either side and above them are strange and colorful mineral deposits, weird formations of stone that look like dripping wax, and occasional growths of weird fungus and mold.

The flow of the water is languid; the soldiers pole along, helping avoid obstacles and keeping the small boats moving.  Laodegan has chosen one named Feldikerar as his project and is trying to instill leadership in him, with mixed success.  Hours pass; the group eats as they move.  They see no end to the snaking waterway, which seems to gradually drop only a few score of feet as the time passes by.  Finally the light of the lanterns on the boats resolves something ahead- a few rocky isles, with just enough room for the group to lie out and rest.  The eternal darkness all around them makes our heroes wary, but their journey has made them weary, so rest they do, setting a watch.  

_1 a.m., 5/15/368 O.L.G., a small isle in the Underdark_ 

Suddenly Thelonious and Laodegan snap awake.  They can hear cries and shouts-

To their feet, weapons out, whirl and look: a giant crab has crawled out of the water and is snapping its great claws at Feldikerar!  He’s already taken a wound to the shoulder, which is bleeding profusely, but he’s standing his ground.  “Good show, Feldikerar!” cries Laodegan heartily, stomping forward with his blade.  Arrows whiz past him and pierce the creature in several places as Thelonious employs his bow to good effect.  The creature turns towards them and scuttles back a pace as Laodegan’s sword crashes into its shell ineffectually.  Cursing, he parries its counterattacks, then lays into it again as Feldikerar jabs at it with his spear.

That’s more like it!

Another arrow shoots the crab in the eye even as Laodegan hews into its claw, dealing it a good amount of damage.  Crab juice sprays all over as it starts to scuttle away, but it can’t escape now.  Both Feldikerar and Laodegan land another blow, and the thing stops moving.

“Looks like we’ve got dinner for the next couple days,” Laodegan says cheerfully.

_6 p.m., 5/15/368 O.L.G., along a waterway in the Underdark_

Finally, after another day’s travel, the group reaches their destination, where they see a strange, huge purple jellyfish that rises into a gargantuan cavern.  A large island in the center contains a gothic-looking tower.  A small military force is camped on the edge of the island; the Stempan flag flies there.

“Finally!” declares Laodegan.

They reach the island and disembark, the soldiers meeting the challenge issued by the guards on the bank.  They all recognize one another, of course, and it’s obvious that they’re glad to see each other.  The party is escorted to the legate in charge of the camp, a man named Nauthrix.  He sports an oiled black goatee and has a noticeable scar across the side of his face; clearly, he’s a veteran.

When Laodegan asks to speak to the governor, Nauthrix tells him, “Governor Bastor is in the middle of delicate negotiations with the Drow.  I’m afraid he’s not available at the moment.”

“When will he be available?” Laodegan seethes.

Nauthrix shrugs eloquently.

“We’ll wait,” Laodegan snaps.

_3 p.m., 5/18/368 O.L.G., the isle of Halli Cialu, the Underdark_

Finally, after three days, the summons comes.  Laodegan is escorted to a large tent in which he finds Governor Bastor, as well as a number of his advisors and officers- including several Drow.  Their meeting is vague and full of innuendo, leaving Laodegan feeling uncertain how that all went when all is said and done.  Laodegan delivers his scroll to Bastor- he’s not certain exactly what the message is, but he has a pretty good idea it involves testing Bastor’s loyalty- and watches intently as the man reads it, then burns it.

“I will prepare a response for your father,” Bastor says, “but I need some time to compose it.  And I wouldn’t want it slowed by your journeys.  You may move on and continue your work; I suspect you have more of these to deliver, yes?”

Laodegan confirms this, and the governor graciously gives a small boat to him.  He gets the distinct impression the governor wants to be rid of him; but maybe it’s just the fact that he’s traveling with halflings.

_11 a.m., 5/23/368 O.L.G., a river in the Underdark_

At last, after days of river travel, the party sees light ahead.  Its cold and damp, and they are overjoyed as they at last near the exit and sunlight.  When they emerge, they don’t even care that they’re in the Buzzing Fens.

The Buzzing Fens are a low-lying area nestled between the Western Precipice and the Stern Mountains.  A lot of water drains into the area, including, apparently, at least one Underdark river.  Reeds and other swamp plants are everywhere, and mangroves, cypress and willows dot the landscape.  Moss and slime covers everything, and the air buzzes with insects.  The air smells of swamp gas.

The boat is useless now; the vegetation is too thick.  But our heroes can see hills in the distance- and, according to Sandy, the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment lies in the hills just to the east of the Buzzing Fens.

The exhausted group-they’ve been sleeping in a small boat for days- starts slogging through the fens.

_*Next Time:*_ Although you don’t usually get the explicit explanation for what’s up with the pcs who weren’t present for a session, you will next time, cuz it matters later!  Our heroes head to the Asylum!


----------



## the Jester

*The Buzzing Bowels*

_1 p.m., 5/23/368 O.L.G., on the edge of the Buzzing Fens, Strogass_

“Oh, at last!” moans Federico.  He’s shaking with fatigue; it has taken all his meager strength* to push through the muck, and now at last he can see the ground ahead is rising out of the swamp.  He swats half-heartedly at the cloud of gnats that’s encircling him and grumbles, “This sucks.  Ninety percent of all marshes suck.”

“Almost there, dog,” gasps Sandy, but he doesn’t look so well.  It’s a warm day and the stinking air around the fens is full of moisture, but sweat is running in rivers from his face.  He’s starting to shake, too.  It seems that Sandy has caught something, either from the gasses or the bugs or the water or something.  And he’s not alone.  Lita is flagging, the same sweaty glazed look in her eyes.  Ed and Trinia don’t look too good either.

The two humans lead the way as the ground gradually rises and becomes more solid, and then they’re at the first hill.  Laodegan and Thelonious pull the others laboriously from the mucky ground and the group collapses on the hillside.  

“Be right back,” groans Sandy, and he lurches to his feet and swiftly walks behind a screen of nearby bushes.  He’s running when he’s halfway there, a screwed-up look of concentration on his face, then drops out of sight.  A moment later, he returns, lacing up his trousers, but minutes later he’s back behind the bush- and the other sick ones are in similar straits.

“I recognize this,” Thelonious says.  “I think they’ve come down with the buzzing bowels.  It’s a disease native to the Fens.  They’re going to be... fairly incapacitated until they throw it off.  Uh, we’ll probably here a weird kind of flapping or buzzing noise sometimes when they, er, uh, when they’re indisposed.”

“Is it fatal?” Laodegan asks.  Lita is struggling to her feet and stumbling behind the bushes.

“Not usually, but they won’t be able to travel very well, and they’ll be, uh, indisposed a lot.  They’ll need a lot of fluids, but they’ll have a lot of trouble eating.  Ah, that’s the noise I was talking about.”

The group soon sinks into unconsciousness, worn out by days of poor sleep in boats with no room to lie out.  The sick people- and it seems like only Martini, Jawbreaker, Federico and the humans have escaped the ravages of the buzzing bowels.  When they wake that night, the two humans go foraging for food and herbs along with Brother He’s dog, which Thelonious seems to be trying to adopt. His bow is at the ready; it seems likely that there’s some sort of game somewhere around here.

Apparently, to some creatures, _they_ are the game.  

Three humanoid reptiles, as tall as them, rush at them from the side of the hill.  Both of the humans spot them, and Thelonious instantly reacts to take advantage of the fact that his bow is in his hands.  He fires an arrow directly into the lead lizard man’s torso, and the reptile hisses and roars.  It keeps coming, though, so he shoots it again and again.  The last arrow goes wide as the enemy charges forward.  Laodegan readies his sword and shield and assumes a fighting stance; it’s clear that he’s a well-trained warrior.  The lizard men arrive, screaming and hissing, and Laodegan swings his green-glowing sword but misses.  The monster that he’s dancing with slashes at him with its claws and wounds him, gouging his cheek; then it strikes him again on the left arm and tears a rent down it, ripping his shield off in the process!***  “Aargh!” Laodegan yells, and the beast steps in and bites his shoulder!

“Let him go!” Thelonious shouts, but he’s being assaulted by an enemy of his own- an enemy already holding two arrows in his body.  Gritting his teeth, Thelonious takes a step back and fires an arrow.  With a _zisp!_ it sinks deep into the lizard man’s chest, and it drops.  The ranger spins and fires a shaft at the one engaging Laodegan.  Unfortunately, Laodegan is between Thelonious and the target- and the arrow strikes him square in teh back instead of hitting the lizard man!  Already badly wounded, Laodegan cries out and falls face down in the grass, unconscious.

“Sorry!” cries Thelonious, and keeps firing.  The one that was engaging Laodegan is an open shot now, and two arrows find its chest easily enough.  It coughs a great gout of blood out and falls.

The final one lurches forward, having spent a few moments disabling the dog, and Thelonious lands a shaft in the side of its leg.  It hisses and rushes him, tearing at his arm.  He staggers back and fires again, but his arrows go wide.  

Behind it, he sees Laodegan drag himself to his feet.  With a glare, he charges the last lizard man, impaling it on the blade of Cleansing.  The monster screams as Thelonious keeps backpedaling and firing arrows into it.  Finally it falls. 

“Whew!  That was close!” Thelonious cries.  “Sorry about shooting you- why don’t you come over here so I can dig that arrow out?”  He wipes his brow.  “Wow, I don’t feel so hot.  I think I’m coming down with something...”

_8:30 a.m., 5/24/368, the Brown Hills_

Laodegan straps his sword belt on firmly.  “Well, your Asylum is somewhere in these hills, and good luck to you.  I have a job to do.  It’s been interesting.”  Shouldering his pack, he strikes off south.****  

“Good luck,” Martini calls back.  He shakes his head.  _I can’t believe he left before second breakfast._

Martini, Jawbreaker and Federico help the sick members of the group into a sheltered copse of trees and then discuss their next move.  Jawbreaker climbs a tree and grunts, then shuffles down it.  “Building,” he says, and points.

“How far?” Martini asks.  Jawbreaker shrugs, so the group heads in the direction he had indicated.  The sun is already bright; Federico puts on his motley cap and the group moves down one hill and starts up another, following the barbarian’s lead.  

Suddenly, from a nearby bush, a tallfellow halfling- or a human child?- bursts out.*****  He’s wearing a smock and he has a goofy smile on his face.  “Yay, let’s play!” the tallfellow cries.  He looks childishly pleased with Federico’s hat.

The kobold does a quick showy tumble.  “Hi there!” he says cheerfully.

“Do you wanna play?”

Federico looks at the- boy?  Halfling?  He has no weapons, no armor, nothing at all save a simple smock that sees to lace up the back.  “What are you doing out here with no protection?”

“I just got away from the place.”

Martini and Federico exchange a glance.  Martini meanders to the side and little and confirms a guess: the smock has no back.  It’s the kind of gown one gets in a hospital... or an asylum.

“The Asylum?” asks the kobold.  “Are there doctors?”

“Yeah... they were nice... but now there are mean people.”

“What’s your name?” Martini asks.

“Timothy,” the... lad... answers.

“Are you a halfling, Timothy?” asks Martini, slightly puzzled by the child-like demeanor.  He _looks_ like a halfling, yet...

“I’m just a kid,” Timothy avows.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” the lad answers. 

There’s a moment of silence as the group considers.  Most humans are full-sized by twenty-two, that’s for sure.  _He must be a halfling,_ thinks Martini, but he saves the discussion for another time.  

“Well,” Federico finally says, “we’re going to go back to the place to free some people who are wrongly held there against their will.  Do you want to help us, Timothy?”

“Um, I don’t like the place.”

“Right!  And you know, having been in there, just how bad it is, and how much we should free the people imprisoned against their will!”

“Um, I guess so.  Yeah, I want to help let people out.”

“You said there were mean people there?” Martini interjects. 

“Yeah, bad people.  They were mean.”

“Did they touch you in your no-no place?” Federico asks in horrified fascination.

“They... they shocked me.”

“Oh no!” the kobold exclaims.  “D-did they... were there _chains?_”

“No, but sometimes they’d put me in the jacket.  Then you can’t move your arms.”  Timothy pauses.  “That’s what they do if you’re bad.”

“Oh, poor Timmy!” exclaims Federico, and to his shock, Timothy starts rocking back and forth and moaning.

“No, don’t say that!  Don’t say Timmy!  My name is Timothy!  Timothy!  I’m Timothy!”

“Oh, no!  I’m sorry, it’s okay, it’s okay...” The three halflings try to console Timothy and slowly they bring him out of it with the aid of a fruit show put on by Federico.  Soon the lad is laughing and engaged again, but his face tends to a peculiar blankness much of the time.

It’s time for lunch, our heroes realize.  They break out their rations.


_*Next Time:*_ What good is Timothy?  Has he any useful talents?  I guess we’ll see when- the _dirt lobsters_ attack!


*Federico, you should know, has a strength score of 1.

**As mentioned previously, this is the excuse for the non-participation of the players who weren’t there for this session.  (Interestingly, this post spans two games, thus Thelonious and Laodegan.)  We pretty much hand wave this stuff, with just the barest nod to realism, but in this case the excuse comes up again in the (spoiler), and the disease itself came up again in our most recent game as well.  Those silly Buzzing Fens! 

***This was a crit; I have a ‘colorful critical hit’ system that has all kinds of fun effects on the victim, based on the severity of the crit.  This one did less than half of Laodegan’s present hp, so the added bonus couldn’t be too severe.

****Unfortunately, due to some personal issues, Elder James hasn’t been able to play with us since this session.  In general, if a player is long-term absent I try to retrofit an explanation for where they’ve been- witness also Thelonious’ earlier absence after Bellhold around the time of the jam contest.

*****Geez, tons of annotations this time.  Tallfellows in my game look just like a young human child.  Halflings can see the difference instantly, but most humans can’t, and one of the reasons the big folk tend towards prejudice against halflings is that tallfellows are notorious for taking advantage of the big folk by playing up on the child thing.  Let’s just say that Timothy’s background is very... interesting.


----------



## the Jester

First off, a party update.  At this point in the story hour, our heroes are:

Federico (CG kobold bard 3/sor 1)
Martini (CG halfling fighter 1/ranger 1)
Timothy (CG halfling who thinks he's a human sorc 1)
Jawbreaker (CG halfling barbarian 1)
Roscoe (CG halfling ranger 1)
Thelonious (NG halfling ranger 2)
Phenyl "Sandy" Sandybanks (rogue 2/fighter 1)
Lita Alexander (rogue 1/psion 1)


----------



## the Jester

*Dirt Lobster*

_12:30 p.m., 5/24/368, in the Brown Hills, west-central Strogass_

Martini pats his belly and burps gently.  Now that the group is out of the Buzzing Fens- even if only barely- he can really enjoy his meals again.  He looks around the group- many of them are sick with the buzzing bowels, but he, Federico and Jawbreaker can continue- along with their new companion, Timothy.  A simple mind, escaped from the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment, Timothy is very child-like, yet withdrawn and blank-faced much of the time.  _And don’t call him Timmy,_ the ranger reminds himself, _it freaks him out._  Compassion blossoms in Martini like a rose.  He wants to make sure the Asylum doesn’t get Timothy back.  _And they’ll never put me in a place like that,_ he vows.  _I’d rather die._

The party finishes tidying up their mess from lunch and then moves on into the hills in the direction Jawbreaker had pointed when he climbed the tree.  Martini leads the way through the rough, scrub-covered hills.  This part of Strogass is dry; it doesn’t seem to have rained much here lately, given how yellow most of the grasses are.  Only hardy shrubs and the occasional small oak tree spring from the rocky dirt here.  As they walk, Federico gives Timothy a cloak and helps him hood himself to hide his face.  He also gives him a dagger- which he clutches in his right hand- and a torch, which he grasps tightly in his left, holding the two items up and in front of him.  “This way they won’t recognize you at the Asylum!” Federico announces cheerfully.  “You’re disguised, and we’ll just say you’re a boon adventuring companion!”

Martini the ranger picks a pathway for the group that is fairly straight on their direction, trying to avoid larger areas of jumbled rock and sharp slopes.  As he moves he scans the ground ahead for signs of danger, and as his sharp eyes move over one area he sees movement.

“Beware!” Martini cries, as three beetles charge out from behind a set of bushes, their mandibles clicking loudly.  They rush in to the group, trying to tear succulent chunks of flesh from the halflings, but our heroes backpedal and dodge enough to avoid any injuries.  Then Martini pulls out his greatsword a deals a mighty overhand blow to one, cleaving it nearly in two!  Its primitive form keeps moving, though barely.  Jawbreaker, meanwhile, connects with another with his greatclub, smashing one flat!  Greenish-yellow juice sprays out of it.  The barbarian laughs heartily.

Federico is laboriously loading his crossbow, his tiny arms trembling with effort.  His tail quivers between his legs.

The other two bugs, meanwhile, squirt jets of nasty brownish mist, somewhere between a vapor and a liquid, narrowly missing both Martini and Jawbreaker!  A nasty, acrid smell puffs into the air, and where the mist hits a sapling behind Jawbreaker it burns and eats away at it.

“Bombardier beetles!” Martini cries.

Jawbreaker grunts, shrugs and smashes, destroying the other unwounded beetle in a single shot.  He chortles gleefully as he spins to face the one that Martini cleaved almost in twain- just in time to see something splash out of Timothy’s hand!  A green blob of acid whizzes past the bug harmlessly.

Federico has finally gotten his crossbow loaded and he grunts as he pulls it up to firing position.  He pulls the trigger.  _Spang!_  His quarrel shoots into the last bug, breaking one of its legs and finishing it off.  

The kobold runs forward.  “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!” he cries.  “Dirt lobster!”

_2 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G._

Roscoe Hempflower sniffs the air.  

There’s something cooking.  He can’t tell what it is, but it smells good.  He scans the sky, spots the smoke and heads for it with enthusiasm.  He’ll be careful on his approach, but if whoever’s cooking that looks friendly, he’s gonna have a little fresh meat.

When he gets close enough to see the cooks, it turns out it’s a couple of halflings and a kobold, which kind of rings a bell for him; and then he recognizes his cousin and approaches openly and with a grin.  “What’s up, Cuz!” he shouts to Martini.

Martini looks quite surprised to see one of his clansmen out here, but they are halflings, after all, and they are known for their wandering ways.  He greets Roscoe affectionately and introduces him to the others, and soon the group is all eating dirt lobster together.  Federico is drooling eagerly long before it has cooked enough to eat, but he waits after burning his fingers reaching into the coals for some.

Then, having had dirt lobster for tea time, they suck the remaining juices from their fingers and continue on their way.

_4 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G., the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment_

Our heroes enter a clearing and halt.

“Th-that’s creepy,” Federico whines.

They stare at the building before them: the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment.


_*Next Time:*_ The Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment!  What does that mean, and what’s going on here??


----------



## the Jester

*The Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment*

See more pictures of the Asylum here: link.

_4 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G., the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment_

“What’s that?” Roscoe asks, gaping at the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment.

The intimidating building rises before them, several stories high.  A number of smaller outbuildings are scattered around, and gardens of herbs and vegetables are in evidence as well.  The main building itself is a large and imposing edifice that looks fairly well-kept.

“It’s an asylum,” Federico whimpers.  “And a friend of one of our clan mates is held here unjustly against his will.”

“Who’s that?” Jawbreaker asks.

“His name is Norman, but I don’t know him.  He’s a friend of Sandy’s.”  Federico’s brow furrows.  “Oh, no- how are we going to recognize him?” he whines.

“Maybe Tim here knows him.  Do you know Norman, Timothy?” asks Martini.

Timothy’s blank face turns to regard the ranger.  “Um, yeah.  He’s in the place.  He’s all right.  He was never mean to me.”

“There we go,” Federico chirps.  “Timothy can help us find Norman.”

“Let’s just go up to the front door and fight our way through the evil doctors,” Martini suggests.  It seems as good of a way to start as anything, so our heroes walk up and try the door, but it is locked.

“We knock,” Jawbreaker grunts, pulling out his greataxe.  He delivers a tremendous blow to the front door.  There’s a booming sound as he wrenches the axe free.  “Nice door,” he comments approvingly, noting its thickness and quality.  He prepares to launch another blow, but suddenly a window above him on the wall opens up and a head pokes out.  

“Who’s there?” cries the figure above.  “What do you want?”

Before his companions can put their foot in their mouths, Federico does a quick, happy-looking somersault and cries out, “We’re performers!  We’ve come to put on a show for you!”  His friends keep their mouths shut, trusting the kobold to speak for them.

“What- why did you chop into our door?  Who’s going to pay for that?!”

“Why, that is our way of knocking.  It’s how we announce ourselves, with drama!  And we’ll gladly pay for repairs from the charges we render to you for our performance!”

“But- what- “

“Can we speak to someone in charge?”

Confused by Federico’s sweet tongue and cordial manner, the man’s head withdraws into the building and the window shuts.  The kobold turns to his companions.  “Okay, so be ready to attack!” he exclaims.  

“I don’t know,” Martini says.  “Are we sure these guys are evil?”

”They’re holding Norman unjustly against his will!” Federico retorts.

“Are we sure about that?  I’m just saying that we shouldn’t be too rash-“

The front door opens.  A human man, dressed in a doctor’s coat, stands there, flanked by two orderlies with saps and shortswords.  “I’m Doctor Zimmer,” the doctor declares.  “What’s going on here?”

“Why, we’re a traveling show, a troupe of sorts, and we wish to perform for the inmates here, to ease the burden of their suffering!” Federico blathers.  He goes on at length for a few moments until finally Dr. Zimmer manages to get in a reply.

“Unfortunately, the inmates here are not all in their right minds,” he says.  “Different triggers will cause different effects in some of their minds, some of which could be counterproductive to their treatment.  We are here to make them well, and you cannot possibly know what sorts of things would cause them distress.  I am afraid performing for them is out of the question.  However, I’ll be more than happy to allow you to put on your show for the staff this evening.”

“Oh- but our show is light-hearted and harmless-“

“You cannot possibly understand the delicacy of the minds we are dealing with, and the treatments.  Some of the dangers are unspeakably subtle in this sort of work.  For example, we have a patient who is upset by certain loud noises.  We cannot risk an incident.  It is out of the question.”  

“Very well, then the staff- we shall entertain your staff!”

“Yes, this evening, once our tasks for the day are done.”  Dr. Zimmer smiles.  “It has been too long since we have seen performers here.  We appreciate your presence.  Feel free to set up there,” he gestures, “there should be plenty of room and you won’t be in the way of anything.  If you need anything let us know, we have stores of food and some drink.”

“Why, that would be fantastic!” Federico answers.

With that, the doctor and the orderlies withdraw.  Our heroes walk a hundred yards away, to their designated set-up area, and pitch their tents.  As they are finishing making their camp, a pair of workers come out carrying a wheeled table, set with fruits, pastries and cheese, and set it up near the camp site.  “Courtesy of Dr. Zimmer,” one of them calls.  Jawbreaker pokes a piece of fruit with his stick, then grunts and starts eating.

 “Was Dr. Zimmer nice, Timmy?” asks Martini.

“No- no, don’t say that!  Don’t say Timmy!!”  The ex-inmate starts rocking back and forth.  “I’m Timothy- I’m Timothy!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, you’re Timothy!  Yes, Timothy!” Martini slowly calms the insane tallfellow.  “Now, what can you tell us about Dr. Zimmer?”

Timothy gradually relates that Dr. Zimmer used to be nice, but things changed a while back.  He started to seem to enjoy cruelty.  Our heroes exchange worried glances.

As the afternoon wears on, a group of inmates comes out of the asylum, led by another doctor into the garden, where they peacefully set about weeding after the doctor gives the patients a quiet talk.  “Oh, that’s the garden,” Timothy says simplistically.  “I like the garden.”  Federico wanders over towards the garden to get a closer look and a listen, and finds that it’s some sort of outdoor therapy used to try to connect the patients to the world around them.

”I’m not so sure that they’re evil,” Martini says nervously after the kobold reports what he overheard.  “But I don’t like this place.  I don’t like the idea of people being locked up.”

“Look,” grunts Jawbreaker, gesturing with his chin.  An orderly with a tea service is coming out of the asylum, walking towards them, and Dr. Zimmer is with him.

“Oh, it’s tea time!” enthuses Federico.  

The doctor has come to chat with them over tea, and chat they do, the party becoming increasingly uncertain about the kick-in-the-door-and-kill-everyone approach they had sort of been expecting to use.  Timothy stays hidden in the back of the party, clutching his dagger and torch.  Zimmer claims to have worked at the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment for 12 years. 

At one point he asks them if they know of psionics.

Federico tells Dr. Zimmer about the crystals in Bellhold.  “They were c-creepy.  This goblin was putting them in the heads of children, and they would... freak out.  It gave them weird powers.”

“Bellhold, eh?” Zimmer muses.  

The conversation continues for a while longer, and then Zimmer, charmed by Federico’s eloquence, offers the group a tour.  Timothy declines faintly and Martini demurs as well, deciding that Timothy probably needs a watchdog.  But a tour of the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment?  

Federico and Jawbreaker can’t resist, and a few minutes later they’ve left all weapons behind and passed through the front doors and into the locked asylum beyond.


_*Next Time:*_ What exactly _is_ “advanced mental treatment,” anyway?


----------



## the Jester

*Advanced Mental Treatment*

_5:20 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G., inside the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment_

The heavy doors are closed and locked, and Federico and Jawbreaker glance around nervously.  Neither has a weapon with them- even the mere sight of a weapon might upset certain inmates of the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment.  The foyer is so clean that the tiles of the floor gleam.  There are several doors and a hallway that lead away from it.

“The first floor,” says Dr. Zimmer, “is where all the communal rooms are.  For example,” leading them down the hallway and past a number of open rooms, “down here we have a series of work and play rooms for inmates who are relatively well-adapted.  The kitchens and dining rooms are also on this level.”  As they walk, Jawbreaker and Federico see a doctor performing some sort of group speech therapy with a group of patients, a few people snacking in another comfortable-looking sitting room and several off-duty interns lounging around.  “Ah, over here are the baths... storage, of course- feeding an institution of this size this far away from a city is an art all its own- and from this window here you can see the sunset.  It’s no ocean view, but it is nice enough nonetheless.  This level is also where the doctors live- our private chambers, also the private offices of those who have them.”  He smiles broadly at the two halflings and adds, “Most of the other staff- such as the orderlies, janitors and so forth- stay in outbuildings, though.  That’s about it for this level- let’s go on up to the second.”  He leads the group to a stairway that heads up.

As he pitter-patters up the stairs, Federico thinks, _So far everything seems okay... I hope there isn’t a terrible surprise waiting for us!  I hope they don’t try to lock us up here or something!_  He shivers, his tail between his legs, as he ascends the stairway.  Jawbreaker is keeping his mouth shut, but he doesn’t like this place _at all._  It doesn’t make any sense to him anyway- what the hell is this place doing out here in the middle of nowhere anyhow?  And what does _Advanced Mental Treatment_ mean, anyway?

“The second floor,” Dr. Zimmer explains, “mostly houses our inmates.”  The stairs lead up to a long, horseshoe-shaped hallway lined with doors.  All of them are locked shut, and most have small shuttered windows in them.  “We can look in on certain selected ones through the viewing windows,” he explains, “but there are some to whom even looking in on them would be terribly dangerous.”

“Some with mind powers?” Federico asks timidly.

“Some, yes.  Some are simply extremely dangerous.  In any event,” Zimmer opens the shutter on one of the viewing windows on a door, “here is an interesting fellow.  He thinks that Bleak talks to him, but there is no evidence of divine visitation or magic.  Of course, there is always a small chance that Bleak _does_ talk to him, but all the evidence is against him.”  He shrugs, closing the window, then shows Jawbreaker and Federico an empty cell.  

Jawbreaker looks around uneasily.  It’s a small, confined space; there isn’t much to it.  He would absolutely hate being locked up in there.  He would rather die.  He glances uneasily at the orderlies accompanying them on their tour, but nobody tries to lock him up- at least not yet.

“The third level is special,” Dr. Zimmer comments.  “It’s where we perform our more advanced therapies.”  He halts at the top of the stairs.  “You must understand that our techniques may appear unorthodox, but we are well-trained professionals and have a great deal of experience with these things.  Our therapies really work.”  

Jawbreaker grunts.  Federico nods nervously.

Dr. Zimmer leads them on.  “Our therapies vary with the patient’s needs.  Some, such as this, might seem silly.”  He opens a door.  Beyond it is a large chamber dominated by a great window to the outside.  Before the window are a series of metal rods contrived into a sort of sawhorse-shaped construction.  Near the ceiling a long bar runs as the sawhorse’s back; from this dangles a swing, facing the great window.  Dangling from the seat of the swing are several shackles.  “Some of our more violent patients find the combination of the swinging motion and the view soothing, and sometimes they have to be shackled in to avoid incidents, but the swing here can do long-term good for some of the most badly deranged of our patients.”

Jawbreaker snorts.

“There are many other types of advanced treatments that we perform, as well- for example, different drug therapies- but the only therapy ongoing at this point in time is down here in this chamber.”  He strides to a door, followed by our heroes.  “Steel yourselves,” he warns, and throws open the door.

“Oh God!” cries Federico.

The room is garishly lit by brightly-burning oil lamps.  Several metal tables are in the chamber, occupied by patients who are strapped down into immobility.  Straps even run across their foreheads and throats.  One of the men is moaning in fear and his head is bloody.  Orderlies and doctors cluster around them.  

“It’s called trepanation,” Dr. Zimmer explained.

The doctors around the bloody-headed man dab up much of the blood, revealing a hole in the top of the man’s skull.  One of them pulls out a vial of fluid and slowly pours it into the hole.  The man quivers, his eyes roll, and he gives out an inarticulate shout; then he slumps in his straps.  The other man is just beginning to have the hole drilled.  

Federico and Jawbreaker flee the room.

Dr. Zimmer follows them, nodding sympathetically.  “It’s certainly a traumatic sight.  I tried to warn you.”

“Does that... does that _help_ people?” Federico asks incredulously.

Dr. Zimmer nods.  “The right people, if their condition is right, can be greatly aided by it.”

“Lets the demons out,” Jawbreaker grunts, nodding.  Zimmer looks at him in surprise. 

“Something like that.”

“Do they ever die?”

Dr. Zimmer hesitates.  “Accidents do happen, of course, but it’s extremely rare.  We’re very careful, and frankly, the sort of people these treatments are designed to help are usually so dangerous that they’ll never be released if they aren’t successfully treated.  Better some chance than none, eh?”

“You have patients that are dangerous?” Federico asks.

“Oh, yes.  We have dangerous patients indeed,” Dr. Zimmer sighs.  “We even have a mass murderer.”

“What his name?” Jawbreaker growls.

“Manson,” Zimmer tells him.

“I think it’s time I went to prepare for your show,” Federico quivered.

_7:00 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G., just outside the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment_

Federico puts on a one-man show.  He does his fruit act, he uses his best self-deprecating humor, he pulls out all the stops. 

He bombs.*

But he keeps the staff’s attention while Jawbreaker tries to sneak inside.  With Timothy’s assistance, they can hopefully identify the person they’re here to liberate- Norman- and break him out with nobody the wiser.  And then hopefully beat a hasty retreat to more pleasant ‘wheres!  Jawbreaker scales the outside of the creepy Asylum, going up to the great window on the swing room.  He gets to it fairly easily, but once up there he realizes that the window doesn’t open.  

With a grunt, he pulls his greataxe free and swings at the glass as best he can.  He loses his grip on the wall in the process, but dashes a great hole in the window.  And Federico’s show has drowned out the noise.  Though he’s badly wounded by the fall, Jawbreaker grunts in satisfaction.  Unfortunately, he’s too badly wounded to go on to stage two of the plan and secure a rope for the deer-eyed Timothy.  Kid looks well-intentioned, but scared.  And definitely some kind of half-wit. 

_9:15 p.m._

Federico slumps dejectedly back into the camps.  “I don’t think they liked my show,” he whines.  “Those d-doctors make me nervous.”  He shudders in revulsion, thinking about the... the procedures he witnessed earlier.  “We can’t let them take Timothy back, we can’t let them do _that_ to him!” he groans desperately.

Jawbreaker limps over to him.  “I broke window, but no rope.  Fall,” he explains.

Federico casts a pair of bardic _cure light wounds_ on his barbarian pal, and then he looks at him seriously.  “If you could secure a rope up there, we could probably all negotiate our way up it, especially if someone could carry me.”  

“I don’t wanna go back in the place,” Timothy moans.

“But you want to help people, don’t you Timothy?” Federico asks.  He smiles brightly.  “We’ll keep you safe.  We won’t let them take you back.”  

“Okay,” says Timothy.


_*Next Time:*_ Things get out of control!


----------



## the Jester

*Things Get Out of Control at the Asylum*

_9:30 p.m., 5/24/368 O.L.G., just outside the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment_

Jawbreaker grins to himself as he scales the wall of the Asylum.  There are lots of ledges and sills for him to grab onto; it’s certainly no more difficult than some of the cliffs he scaled as a lad with his tribe.

His _dead_ tribe.  Once more, under his breath he curses all giant-kind. 

Finally his groping fingers reach the sill of the broken window.  Jawbreaker grunts as his hand grasps a glass shard, slicing his hand, but he ignores the pain.  His muscles bunch as he easily hoists himself into the chamber with the bondage swing.  He glances around warily before moving quickly to lock the door.  Then, chortling softly to himself, he secures his rope to the frame of the swing and throws the other end out the window.  A glance down reveals his friends starting to ascend.  First Martini, then Roscoe, then a reluctant Timothy work their way up.  Finally only Federico remains below.

“Can you pull me up?” the kobold whines quietly.  “And maybe Ethel?”  Jawbreaker and Martini haul the rope up, first bringing Feddie’s riding dog tied in a harness and then bringing up Federico himself.  He clings to it with all of his meager strength, and when he reaches safety at the top he lets go with a groan and shakes his tired arms.*  Then they look around, Roscoe pulling out his bow nervously.

“Well,” Federico says nervously, “I guess we need to find Sandy’s friend Norman now, right?”

Martini nods.  “I’m guessing he’s on the second floor somewhere.”

“Yeah, that’s where we stay,” Timothy mutters vacantly.

“All right, then,” Federico whispers.  “We’ll need to go down a level....”

Ethel suddenly starts growling, and Roscoe whips out an arrow and fits it to the string of his bow.  With an inarticulate cry he lets it fly!  Federico whirls to face the direction Martini’s cousin shot, and he sees a terrifying creature seemingly forming from the air itself!  It looks like a roughly spherical blob of sickly pink and grey fleshy material, covered in gold eyes and sharp-fanged mouths!  Tentacles trail from its body, with two particularly large ones seemingly serving as legs.  The arrow strikes it and it quivers for a moment, but it is difficult to tell whether it is actually harmed.  The things starts moving forward, biting for Timothy but missing, and Jawbreaker gives out a wordless scream of terror and cowers back in a corner.

Ethel and Martini spring forward, the dog biting savagely while the halfling swings his greatsword into it.  Roscoe keeps up his barrage of arrows, landing another deeply in the monster.  It lets out a wet squealing sound and surges at Timothy again, but he manages to dodge it, hurling a series of _acid splashes_ before and after.

Finally Martini lands a severe blow, cutting deeply into it and slicing it almost in two.  The oily monster collapses and starts to smoke; in less than a minute it has bubbled and evaporated into nothing, leaving only a greasy stain on the floor to mark its passing. 

“What the hell was _that?_” Martini growls, but nobody knows.  “Have you seen those things here before, Timothy?”

“No...”

The ranger shakes his head.  _This place is not good,_ he thinks firmly.

Jawbreaker doesn’t say anything, but he’s embarrassed by his fright against the monster.    

The group cautiously moves to the door and unlocks it.  Jawbreaker throws it open, axe in hand, and springs immediately at the orderly outside.  The human never even has time to draw his sword.  His axe sinks deeply into the chest of the orderly, and blood fountains.  With only a minimum amount of noise, the orderly crumples.

The group eases itself into the hall.  Timothy looks away from the bloody body of the orderly.  “The stairs are that way,” Federico whispers, gesturing to the right.  The party begins to move down the hall, and then down the stairs.  The hall below is shaped like a U; along it are doors to all the cells.  There are small windows at eye level for a human- which means our heroes can’t see through them due to their short stature.  Jawbreaker moves next to the stairs down to the first level, his bloody axe at the ready.

“Do you know which room is Norman’s, Timothy?” Martini asks.  Timothy shakes his head.  Martini purses his lips.  “We’ll have to find him another way.”  He moves over to one of the rooms.  “Hello in there!” he calls.

He hears the sounds of movement, but there is no reply.  

“We’re looking for someone,” Martini continues.  “Um, someone held against his will.  We want to help him.”

“I am held against my will.”

Martini’s interest is piqued.  “Who are you?”

“I am the Emperor of Forinthia!”

“Um, sure you are.  Well, thanks, but we’re not looking for you.”

“Who are you looking for?” the patient asks.

“Someone named Norman.”  Martini sighs. 

“I am Norman!” the voice claims from within his cell.

“Really?”

“No!  He lies!” cries another voice from a different cell.  Obviously someone else is listening.  “_I_ am Norman!”

“No, it is I- Emperor Norman of Forinthia!  If you free me, I will reward you with a _million_ gold pieces!”

“No!” cries a woman’s voice from yet another cell.  “I’m Norman.  Me, me, me, me...”

And then a cacophony of voices from dozens of cells: “No, it’s me!”  “I’m the real Norman!”  “No, they’re lying, you want me!”  “Free me, I’m Norman!” “No, _I’m_ Norman!” “Please, I am the real Norman!”

“Oh no,” Federico moans, “we’ve roused the loonies.”

“They’re making a lot of noise,” Roscoe comments pointedly, and just in time.

Suddenly an orderly rushes up from below, a sap in his hand.  As he sees our heroes his eyes widen.  “Stop!” he shouts.  “Intruder- AAGH!”

Jawbreaker’s axe crashes into his chest and the orderly drops in another spray of blood.  His body rolls down the stairs.  “Uh oh,” Jawbreaker grunts, and glances at the others.  “More coming, hurry up!” he calls.

“Oh man, what do we do now?” Federico groans.


_*Next Time:*_ What _will_ our heroes do?  How will they find Norman?  And who else will they let free in the process?


*Never forget that Federico’s strength is 1.  Just for the record, Timothy’s wisdom is 3 and there are several other very low wisdom and strength scores in the party...


----------



## threshel

Very good stuff, Jester.  It always puts a smile on my face when I see that you've updated.
J


----------



## the Jester

threshel said:
			
		

> Very good stuff, Jester.  It always puts a smile on my face when I see that you've updated.
> J




Thanks!   I do try to update _lots,_ so hopefully that's a fairly common thing!


----------



## the Jester

*Loonies on the Loose!*

The loonies are shouting, shouting; everyone is Norman.  

Jawbreaker grimaces.  He can hold the stairs for a while, but this is going nowhere.  Why is he trusting a kobold to figure this out anyway?  Irritation blossoms in his breast like a flower.  Ethel, the dog’s dog, wanders over and snuffles at him, then turns to watch the stairs beside him.

“We need Timothy to see into those cells,” Martini says.  “C’mere, Tim.  I’ll let you stand on my shoulders.”

Timothy looks frightened, like a rabbit in the midst of wolves.

“Come on, don’t you want to help people?” Martini persists.

“Okay,” Timothy answers after another agonizing moment, and climbs up the ranger.  “Is this a game?” the former inmate asks.

“Yes, Timothy, it’s the looking for Norman game,” Martini says urgently.

“Okay!”  With a faint smile, Timothy starts peering into the cells, but after the first few they stop for a moment to give Martini a moment.

“Too slow,” Jawbreaker grunts.  Then footsteps clatter up the stairs from below.  He tenses, and a pair of orderlies ascends, with Dr. Zimmer between and just behind them.

“Stop!” he cries.  “What are you doing?  You’re disturbing the patients!”  

Jawbreaker feels something scratch at his brain.  He recoils in horror- this “doctor” is trying to rape his mind!  With a single savage blow he decapitates the orderly between him and Zimmer.  Then he hears Federico start singing a sarcastic song about doctors, and Martini fires an arrow into the other orderly- the group is taking his cue!  The ranger keeps firing, but an arrow hits Ethel even as the dog brings down the other orderly.

Dr. Zimmer grimaces, and Jawbreaker feels a spike of psionic force whip across his ego.  He feels suddenly worth less- not quite _worthless,_, as if nobody listens to him, as if he has never had friends or influence, but rather nearly as if _almost nobody_ listens to him, as if he has only had two friends ever and influence once.  He gnashes his teeth, more angry than disabled, and Zimmer starts to flee but Jawbreaker stops that with his axe.  He severs the doctor’s head in a single mighty blow.  The head drops down the stairs, bouncing no doubt to the asylum’s first floor.

As Zimmer falls, his body undergoes a strange change.  His flesh flows and ripples, turning a weird grey color, and even his clothes seemed to be mostly part of the disguise.

“He was a _doppelganger,_” Federico whines in amazement. 

“Too slow!” roars Jawbreaker.  “Find Norman, or leave!”

“We can’t leave him here,” Federico protests.

“Bah!”  Jawbreaker hoists a ring of keys from the body of the ersatz Dr. Zimmer and then stomps to the nearest door.  “What your name?” he shouts into it.

“What...?” comes a feeble voice.  This one has not been claiming to be Norman.

“What your name?”

After a pause, “Who wants to know?”

“You want out?” Jawbreaker demands.  “What your name?” 

“You’re out to get me!  What do you want?”

Snorting disdainfully, Jawbreaker works his way through the keys until he finds one that opens the door.  He lets it swing wide and snaps, “Go.”

A gown-clad form scutters past the party cautiously, obviously not trusting their intentions.  She hesitates at the top of the stairs.

”Look,” says Martini, “there’s a lot of chaos right now.  It’s probably your best chance to escape if they mistreat you, but on the other hand the swamp is right there, and it’s not a really friendly environment.”

Jawbreaker is letting another madman loose.  “What your name?” he calls at the next cell door.*  Apparently liking whatever the woman answers, he lets her go.  Mad folk are now milling the hall in confusion, as well as rushing downstairs.  There are shouts below. 

“Maybe,” Martini comments wryly, “the bodies down below have discouraged them.”

“We killed their director,” Federico whimpers.  “They’re probably s-scared of us.”  His tail is tucked between his legs; it’s clear that the fear goes both ways.  Jawbreaker is letting out everyone, it seems.

One human male inmate lingering in the corridor asks, “Why are you looking for Norman?”

Federico turns to him.  “He’s a friend of ours, held unjustly against his will.  Well, I guess he’s really a friend of a friend- Sandy.”  A pair of inmates, clinging to each other, rush past.  Another skirts around the group.  A few more stare curiously.

“Actually,” Martini says, “I believe he’s actually a friend _of a friend_ of Sandy’s.”  He shakes his head.  “But Sandy’s one of us, he’s just down with the swamp fever- the buzzing bowels.”

The man nods, seemingly having made up his mind.  “Well, I’m your man.  I’m Norman.”

Timothy glances over.  “Oh, hi Norman.”**

Our heroes glance at each other and sigh.  

”You find him?” Jawbreaker asks, approaching.  More loonies run past.

“Yeah,” Federico replies.

”Good.  Me let them _all_ out.”  The barbarian shrugs.

“Let’s go, you guys,” Timothy urges.

”Wait a minute,” Martini says Martini.  “Didn’t you say Dr. Zimmer changed a while ago?”

“Yeah, he used to be nice,” Timothy answers.

“The doppelganger!” gasps Federico.  “He replaced the real Dr. Zimmer at that point!”  He frowns for a moment.  “There’s a fourth floor, but they said that nobody ever goes there- it’s storage and old paperwork and stuff.”

“Nobody ever goes there,” snorts Martini.  “Did you ever know anyone who went up to the fourth level, Timothy?”

“No,” the childlike halfling replies quietly.

“Let’s check it out.”

“Oh no!” moans Federico.  Jawbreaker grins, then laughs, then pulls out his axe.


_*Next Time:*_ The fourth floor!  The first floor!  And teaching Timothy to snack!


*Wondering what the hell he’s doing?  He’s waiting to see if anyone will cop to being the mass murderer Manson, and he won’t let that one out. 

**Realize that Timothy’s Spot check is something like -4 at this point.  He doesn’t really notice _anything_.  He’s almost totally withdrawn and oblivious.


----------



## the Jester

*12:30 a.m., 5/25/368 O.L.G., inside the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment*

Below them the halflings can hear screams and cries as total chaos breaks out.  Between slain orderlies and a doppelganger’s head bouncing down the stairs, the staff has panicked (or at least most of them have).  How many insane people are running around out there tonight?  They didn’t keep track- even Jawbreaker didn’t bother to count.  The short answer, then, is _all of them._ 

Meanwhile, our heroes have crept up the stairs back to the asylum’s third level and to the door that leads up to the attic.

_”Oh, that?  That leads to the fourth floor, but nobody really goes there.  It’s just used for old storage and things like that.”_  That’s what the ersatz Dr. Zimmer had claimed while giving Federico and Jawbreaker their tour of the place.  But now that Zimmer has been revealed as a doppelganger, our heroes no longer believe him.

When they throw open the door, however, they find that he was at least partially honest.  The uppermost floor of the place is indeed full of musty boxes of paper, old hospital gowns, stored wooden cups and bowls and more.

“Is it worth a search?” Martini wonders.

”A quick one,” Federico answers nervously. 

“It’s always worth a search,” Norman says.   

Timothy, former inmate of the asylum, hanging back near the entrance, urges, “Come on, you guys, let’s go.  I don’t like the place.”

Ignoring him, the party starts a quick, cursory search.  Roscoe’s fingers pry open chests, check boxes, move things to look under and behind them.  Jawbreaker grunts and keeps watch, one eye on Timothy to make certain he doesn’t flee in fear.  The kid has been very helpful, and Jawbreaker has already decided that he won’t let the lad be taken back by these evil ‘doctors.’

Roscoe gulps as he opens a chest.  His nose wrinkles as the smell hits him.

“The real Dr. Zimmer,” he says quietly.

***

*1:10 a.m., 5/25/368 O.L.G*

Enough is enough.  They could spend hours searching up there, and they aren’t even entirely certain what they’re looking for.  The bound and withered corpse of Dr. Zimmer was unsettling enough; really, what they ought to be doing now (thinks Martini firmly) is getting the hell out of here.

The first floor spills out at the bottom of the stairs.  A grey-colored, weird head- that of the doppelganger Jawbreaker slew- lies against the wall.  A female gnomish doctor is in the room, under a table; she turns, a look of despair crossed with anger in her eyes, and spots them.

”How dare you!” she shouts, but before she has a chance to say more Jawbreaker cuts her down.

“Jawbreaker, no!” cries Federico.  “She didn’t do anything!  She doesn’t even have a weapon!”

The barbarian shrugs and points at her uniform.  “Bad doctors,” he grunts.  “They cut open heads and pour things in.  _BAD DOCTORS!_”

“But that was Dr. Zimmer, we already defeated him,” the kobold protests as he uses his bardic magic to stop the gnome’s bleeding and heal some of her wounds.  With a groan she opens her eyes.

“Leave!” roars Jawbreaker.

The gnome scrambles to her feet and backs away.  With a glare, she cries, “You’ll regret this!”  And she rushes away.  

“Let’s go, you guys,” Timothy moans.

“Okay, okay- we’re coming, Timmy,” Federico sighs.

”No!  Not Timmy!”  Timothy starts rocking back and forth and moaning.  “I’m Timothy!  No, no, no, not Timmy, Timothy, Timothy...”

Martini groans and helps shepherd the lad outside, all the while reassuring him.  “Come on, Timothy, you’re a big boy now... come on, we’re leaving the place, don’t you want to leave the place?”  Shivering and groaning, the insane tallfellow stumbles outside with his friends.

They move away from the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment as quickly as their little feet will carry them.  They pick up their companions, still sick with the Buzzing Bowels, and try to make the best time they can.  Much to their unease, Thelonious is nowhere to be found.  According to a very sick Airhead Ed, he had gone to the asylum to find them.  The group reasons that he’ll keep up and doesn’t even stop to eat; instead, Martini pulls out some scraps of jerky and passes them around as they travel.

“Oh, is it time for breakfast?”  Timothy looks at the sky, still black and full of stars, and looks confused.

”No, this is just a snack,” Martini answers.

“But we were only supposed to eat at meal times,” Timothy protests.  “On schedule, three meals a day.”

“Only three meals a day?” exclaims Federico.  “Oh, that’s t-torture!”  He shakes his head sadly.  “Oh, Timothy, no halfling should have to go through things like that!  Have a snack.”

“But I’m not a halfling, I’m a human,” the insane halfling protests.

Nonetheless, he learns how to snack after some urging from his new friends.  The group stops to rest in the very early morning, then continues along a few hours later.

”Distance,” comments Roscoe, “that’s what we need.  Distance and clothes for Timmy.”  Timothy is still wearing his backless hospital robe.  He’s clutching his torch and dagger tightly.  Fortunately, he did not hear the name that triggers his fits.

Clothes come two nights later, in a small thorp called Thantle.  There are just enough goods for sale for the party to get him a shirt, pants and boots.  They hurriedly leave the thorp behind; they are still perilously close to the asylum.  None of them mind the idea of a few more miles between it and them.  

***

_*5/27/369, 10 a.m., in the Brown Hills*_

“This is where they were camped,” Martini notes.  

“Oh, man,” Federico moans.

The night before the party had seen a campfire in the distance, and a group of humans that looked like mercenaries.  The halflings had wisely kept their distance and decided to scavenge the campsite after the others had moved on.  

But they hadn’t figured on finding a wanted poster for “a band of halflings and a kobold.”


_*Next Time:*_ Sandy wakes up wondering where the hell he is!


----------



## the Jester

With a groan Phenyl “Sandy” Sandybanks cracks open his eyes.  They are gummed up with mucus and sweat, and a layer of biological detritus flakes away as he looks around.  The room spins for a moment, then stabilizes.  Sandy sees a cup of water on the end table at the head of the bed.  Eagerly he reaches for it and gulps it down, then gives up a fit of coughing before wiping his mouth.  

“Hi, Sandy,” says a voice he doesn’t recognize.

Warily, Sandy looks at the voice.  He relaxes when he realizes that it comes from another halfling, this one properly chubby but rather blank-faced.

“Who are you?” Sandy croaks.

“My name is Timothy,” the lad answers.  “Are you done being sick?”

“I hope so...”  He sighs.  “Where am I?”

“Oh, you’re resting in an inn in a little town.”  It would seem that Timothy has a gift for the obvious.  “Everyone else is out shopping,” Timothy adds.

“What happened?  Did we get Norman?”

“Yeah- he’s out shopping.”

“Right, right...”  Sandy ponders for a moment.  “I think I need some-“  He’s interrupted by a loud rapping.

“I’ll get it!”  Timothy scurries to the door and throws it wide before Sandy has a chance to speak, and a large human in thick hide armor is revealed.  

“Good morning,” he says, and pushes his way into the door, closing it behind him.

“Hey!” protests Sandy.  “Who invited you in?  You can’t just-“

“I believe,” the human interrupts, “that you need my employer’s help.”  He pulls a rolled up sheet of paper from within one of his belt pouches and hands it over.

“A wanted poster,” Sandy says.  Then, “A band of halflings and a kobold?  What does this have to do with us?  We’re just a pair of halflings, hardly a band, and I don’t see any kobold here.  I think you’re-“

The human sighs and shakes his head, cutting Sandy off again.  “We’ve been watching, you know.  The last thing you need, in your condition, is to have someone inform the authorities that you’re here and have them burst in the door.”

“Authorities?  What authorities?”

“All of the ones who would like to collect on that reward.”  The big human smiles.  “So my employer would like to invite you to breakfast.”

“Oh, we really can’t,” Sandy answers.  “I need to wait for my friends here, and-“

“Not to worry.  One of my associates will wait for them.”

Sandy’s unease grows.

***

_*6/7/368 O.L.G., 10 a.m., a small village on Strogass*_

“Be ready in an hour!” the burly Hodge calls over his shoulder as he leaves.

The deal is really simple enough, reflects Sandy, and since his meeting the day before he knows there really isn’t much choice.  Hodge had led him and Timothy to his employer, a ruthless human businessman named Hoyle.  Hoyle had laid the situation out nicely: the halflings are wanted, and if anyone knows where they are they become easy pickings.  (_Maybe not as easy as you think,_ Sandy had thought at the time.)  He can help them, by providing them with an out of the way place to hide out for a while, if they are willing to help him.

And really, it doesn’t sound so bad.  

There is a monestary of aging monks who do not believe in sex.  Because of this their line is dying out; only converts join them, and not too many of them.  They are old and frail, but they are master brewers.  The beer they produce is of such quality that Hoyle is willing to take rather... extreme measures to safeguard it.

“They are old and frail,” Hoyle had said.  “You can hang out there and avoid any trouble that might otherwise come your way, and while you’re there I want you to protect the monks.  Not just protect them from danger- protect them from _stress._  They are _old._  It probably wouldn’t take much of a stress to trigger a heart attack or stroke or something.  So if there’s trouble, try to avoid letting them know about it.”

Now, as he and Timothy start loading the wagon they’ll be riding in, Sandy wonders how easy this one will be.  _At least there will be good beer,_ he thinks cheerfully.  And then the other thought that’s been haunting him rears its head again: _...But what happened to Norman?_

***

_*6/10/368, Noon, in the Brown Hills*_

The wagon has a driver and a pair of guards as well as our heroes on it.  The presence of the pair of guards is a hint- obviously, something dangerous lives around here.  

At high noon on the third day of the trip, the dangerous something reveals itself.  Three red-skinned reptilian humanoids charge out of the brush beside the road, breathing gouts of flame and swinging their swords.  Timothy disables one with a _color spray_ while the driver tries to calm his suddenly-screaming garen.  Sandy drops from the wagon to fight with his longspear, jabbing and weaving.  Things get unruly when they wagon catches fire, but soon they’ve defeated the lizard folk fire breathers.

“Are there a lot of those things out here?” snaps Sandy.

“Aye,” one of the guards grunts.  “Called firenewts.  If yer real lucky, they come atcha mounted.”  He spits.  “Nothing a good shot from a crossbow can’t bring down.”

“Great,” Sandy says, glancing at the burning wagon.

They manage to put it out, but it has suffered serious damage.  There are a lot more periods of walking and a lot less periods of riding for everyone except the driver now.

***

_*6/16/368, 2 p.m., in the Brown Hills*_

As the damaged wagon rattles along it winds up to a small plateau, and the monastery comes into view.  It is fairly small, with nice-looking gardens.  It perches atop the next hill, which is much more rugged and seems to rise to almost mountainous proportions.  A very long, narrow stairway straggles from the base of the hill to the very top.

“Oh, I like gardening,” says Timothy.

“That will take _hours_ to climb!” Sandy groans.  

And he’s right: it takes three hours to ascend.  Along the way, Sandy takes many nips off the flask of hard liquor he has, and he offers it to Timothy but he says something about “for grown-ups,” which Sandy doesn’t quite understand.  So, as he begins to feel the alcohol sing in his blood, Sandy tries to draw Timothy out on the subject, and slowly, to his utter bafflement, he gets a picture of Timothy’s mind.

_He thinks he’s a human kid,_ Sandy thinks, _but he’s clearly a tallfellow halfling.  And he knows he’s in his twenties, but he doesn’t see the fallacy in thinking he’s just a kid._  He shakes his head.  “Timothy, you’re a halfling,” he states firmly.

“No, I’m just a kid.”

“Ahh, okay.  Well, if you’re not a halfling, how would you like to be one?  We could put you on the program.”

“The program?” Timothy asks, intrigued.

“Yeah!  The halfling program!”  Sandy grins drunkenly.  “When it’s finished, you’ll be a halfling like all of us!  Well, except the dog.  But think about it!  If you’re a halfling, things are good.  You get to eat and drink a lot, there’s lots of adventure, and it’s a lot of fun!  You’ve had fun with us so far, right?”

“Well, more fun than at the place, I guess.”

“Right!  We’re more fun than the place,” _whatever the hell that means,_ “so you should get on the program!  And all it takes is ten percent of your share of the treasure.”

“Oh, okay.”

Sandy beams, then glances up at the remaining distance.  Quite a ways to go...

_*Next Time:*_ How fun is life at a monastery full of old monks?  Boy oh boy!


----------



## threshel

Better and better.

J


----------



## the Jester

*The Horror!*

_*6/16/368, 5:30 p.m., atop the Path of Humility*_

The monastery is pretty small, with a literal handful of monks its only inhabitants.  There are five of them only.  A small chapel is off to one side, gardens to the other.  A small shed looks to hold tools and such.  And the monastery itself is pretty small- there can’t be much extra room in there, Sandy thinks drunkenly.  But at least the group is smaller than the humans of the monastery.  

Brother Astophos, a wrinkled old bald man in simple white robes, greets the group.  He introduces himself, and the halflings introduce themselves and declare that they are here to help guard the monks.

“God guards us,” Brother Astophos says serenely.

“Whatever, we’re just here to help, just in case,” Sandy slurs.  He got pretty darn drunk on the three-hour walk up the path up the mountain.

Brother Astophos shrugs.  “As long as you respect our beliefs and our rules, you are welcome to stay, of course.  Perhaps some of you will even join us.”  The old man smiles.  

“Maybe,” Timothy answers brightly.  “Do you play games here?” 

“This is a place for meditation and insight.”

“Oh.”  Timothy sounds disappointed.

“Feel free to look around,” suggests Astophos, before moving off to the gardens, where he proceeds to weed.  Our heroes do so.  The place is pretty much what it appears to be, and is very simple.  There are only a few inhabitants.  The only surprise comes in the chapel- a huge skylight, and several images, that seem to indicate that this is a monastery of Galador.  Shaking his head, the stout leaves the chapel.  This is dangerous ground to tread on.*

A small bell rings.  “Ah, it is time for dinner,” Brother Astophos explains.  Our heroes brighten visibly.  “You are welcome to join us.”

Sandy’s eyes wander over the garden for a moment.  _Wow, they’ve got a lot of good looking stuff there!  I bet the meal’s pretty good.  I hope they have some meat or something!_  The halflings follow Astophos inside the monastery proper, and soon they are seated at long low benches with Astophos and two other monks before a simple wooden table.

“Is this all of you?” asks Sandy.

“There is also Brother Melthax, who is preparing the food, and Brother Spot, who is fasting,” Brother Astophos answers.

The other three monks are also very old and feeble-looking.  Sandy’s gaze lingers on them.  From what the party’s employer- or maybe blackmailer is a better term- told them, the monks here brew excellent beer, and Sandy is bold enough to ask if the group can taste it.  Brother Astophos shakes his head and tells him that the brew is not yet ready.  Neither of the other two monks speak up, and their rheumy eyes make Sandy wonder how many more years they have in them.  This monastery is clearly dying.

A delicious smell is wafting out of the back area- fried onions, peppers, herbs and nuts, mixed in with other vegetable smells... the aroma makes all of our heroes mouths water in anticipation.  A nice large fire has been lit in a bowl at one end of the table.  And then dinner arrives- a large wok-style affair filled with a steaming bounty of nicely stir fried vegetables and cashews.  Sandy’s nose twitches.  _No meat, but it smells delicious,_ he thinks, salivating.

The monk holding the wok intones, “Great God, we thank you for your bounty and your protection.  To symbolize our dedication to You and our conquest of our own bodies and minds, we grow and cook this food as a sacrifice to you.”  And he turns the wok over, dumping all the food into the fire in the bowl at the head of the table.  Our heroes look on in incredulous horror as dinner burns away.

The monk sets down the wok and pulls out a large bowl of white rice.

_This is _terrible, thinks Sandy.


_*Next Time:*_ The firenewts come!


*Strogass’ ‘official religion’ is the worship of Bleak, who is the persecuted devil-figure of the Galadorian faith.  Thus, where Bleak holds sway the forces of Galador must tread softly and avoid being seen for what they are or be destroyed.


----------



## the Jester

_*6/16/368, 8:30 p.m., just outside the hidden monastery*_

“This place is horrible,” whispers Sandy.  “Did you see what they did to the _food?_”

Miserably, Federico nods.  Timothy doesn’t respond; he seems distracted by some interior dialogue, or perhaps a rock or plant or the stars or something.  

Timothy and Sandy wander the grounds of the monastery.  They have already seen the gardens, which hang with vegetables and a few fruits.  They wander over to the head of the Path of Humility, which winds slowly down the face of the mountain to the plains below.

“Hey,” says Sandy, “look down there!”

At the base of the mountain a small encampment seems to have formed, as if of its own volition.  There are a number of rude tents and several weird lizard creatures tethered near them.  In the gathering darkness, our heroes can just make out the red-orange forms of more of the fire-breathing newt-men that ambushed them on their way to the monastery.  There is an occasional gout of fire from them.

“Uh oh,” Timothy mumbles.

“We’d better get help,” Sandy states decisively.  “There are a lot of them down there...”

“Um, aren’t we supposed to keep the monks from knowing they’re in danger?”

Sandy gives Timothy a look.  “Listen, Timmy, we can’t take all those creatures by ourselves!”  But he winces even as the words escape his mouth, and he braces for what he knows will come next.  

“No- not Timmy!  I’m Timothy!”  The autistic kid starts rocking back and forth, moaning.  Sandy sighs.

“Come on, Timothy, you’re a big boy!  Remember, you’re on the program now- Timmy is a good halfling name...”

“Ahhh!  Timothy- I’m Timothy!”

Sandy heaves a sigh.  “Right.”  He waits patiently as Timothy settles out of his fit, then urges the other to accompany him and seek out aid.  “There has to be _someone_ young here,” he reasons.

“I think those old guys are it...”

Timothy is wrong, but he is not far off.  Our two intrepid halflings walk swiftly about the grounds until they find the only figure that they have not yet met: a young human lad of ten years, garbed in a monk’s habit.  The lad, it turns out, is a sort of apprentice monk named Brother Spot.  Being ten years old, reflects Sandy, he won’t be much use, but he tries to speak to him anyway.  He is shushed; after dinner, the monks remain silent until breakfast.  

Scowling to himself, Sandy trundles back to the top of the path, where he and Timothy can just make out enough to see a pair of the firenewts mounted on lizard-things starting up the long path.  “Well, the path’s probably a good place to ambush them,” reasons Sandy.

Indeed it is.  The path switches back and forth much more than it needs to, as it serves a spiritual purpose for the monks.  There are many good places to lurk in wait, and Sandy selects a place about a quarter of the way down the mountain with a large boulder looming over it.  He crouches out of sight above the great stone, ready to hurl missiles or launch himself down at his enemies.  Timothy prepares a _color spray,_ and when the two halflings spring out to begin their sudden assault, the ambush works almost perfectly.  But when the mounts start coughing out exploding balls of flame, Sandy and Timothy are momentarily taken aback- but only momentarily.  Sandy dispatches the final firenewt with a lethal blow to the jaw, which rips it cleanly off!

“Are you all right, Sandy?” asks Timothy.  The other nods, but he notes that Timothy is a little singed and burnt.  

“Well, that’s stopped them for now,” Sandy states, and the two head back up to the top of the mountain where they fall into the arms of sleep.

***

_*6/17/368 O.L.G., 4 a.m.*_

_Dong!  Dong!  Dong!_

The sound of a medium sized bell rolls through the air.  Startled, Sandy has a moment of disorientation as he thinks back to the bell tower in Bellhold.  Then he struggles up, throwing his blanket aside and moving swiftly to the hallway, stopping only to grab his spear.  Is there trouble?

No; there is only breakfast.

“You guys get up too early,” mutters Sandy to himself, hungrily gobbling his small helping of rice.

After they eat, Sandy and Timothy go outside and glance again at the encampment below.  All seems to be silent at this point; there is no sign of movement, though without more light it could easily be missed at this distance.

“Today we can talk to someone and see if they can help us,” Sandy says.  “Maybe that kid.”

Brother Spot (as ‘that kid’ is called) is, sadly, not too receptive to their entreaties for aid.  He is remarkably fatalistic for a ten-year-old.  When Sandy urges him to aid them, he tells them that “god will provide.”

“Dammit,” Sandy curses, and begins keeping watch as the sun rises in the east.


_*Next Time:*_ What do the firenewts want anyway?


----------



## the Jester

_*6/17/368 O.L.G., 6 p.m., the Hidden Monastery*_

Sandy gulps in almost physical pain as the monks once again cast a mouthwatering meal into their sacrificial flame.  _No!_ he wants to scream, but he knows that he cannot interfere with their ritual.  Oh, but the pain!  And now a little gob of sticky white rice- ugh!  No spices, not even salt...

Almost weeping, our heroes eat their rice.

After dinner Sandy takes Brother Astophos aside.  “Listen,” he says, “I don’t want to freak you guys out or anything, but there’s a bunch of monsters at the base of your mountain.  We want to help you, but you have to help us help you.”

Brother Astophos smiles serenely.  _That’s right,_ Horbin thinks, _they maintain silence after dinner.  Argh!!_  The monk gestures at the chapel next to their living quarters, then makes an encompassing gesture.

“I know, I know,” Sandy sighs, “god will provide, right?  But maybe he works in mysterious ways.  Like, through halflings and stuff.  And maybe we’re here to help him help you, but you have to help us help him help you.  Now, come on, isn’t there a quicker way down to the base of the mountain than that damn Path of Humility?”

Brother Astophos smiles again.  He makes a few incomprehensible signs in the air.  And after a moment he leads our heroes to one edge of the plateau.  Behind a screen of rocks over the shoulder of the mountain is a hidden path.  His hands scrub the air some more, but Sandy has seen what he needs to see.  “Thanks,” he says.

Soon the party is descending sneakily in the darkness, hoping to see signs of weakness in the firenewt camp, or at least to get an idea of the numbers they will soon be facing.  Their descent is easier and more direct than the Path of Humility offers, but the darkness makes their trip down slower.  It is only a few hours before dawn when they finally get a good look at the enemy camp.  “There must be a couple of dozen of them,” whispers a dismayed Martini.

“Let’s camp out,” murmurs Sandy, “eat a good breakfast, and pick them off as they come up the path.”

The others agree with Sandy’s assessment of the situation, and soon (except for a watch) they are asleep.  Phenyl Sandybanks himself has run himself ragged to the point of near-exhaustion, and he sinks into sleep like a rock into the sea.  

Of course it doesn’t last. 

***

_*7 a.m., on the secret path*_

Sandy snaps awake as Jawbreaker shakes him roughly.  “They are moving,” the barbarian grunts.  

“Of course they are,” groans Sandy, but he unsticks his eyes and struggles up to his feet.  The group hurriedly moves back up the hidden path- by which time the firenewts have begun the long, arduous climb up the Path of Humility.  The party wastes a few precious moments trying to bring Brother Astophos around to the idea of doing something, _anything_ to protect himself, but Astophos’ response amounts to a serene, deeply spiritual ‘No.’

“Well then, it looks like it’s up to us,” states Martini.  And our heroes sneak back down the secret path until they reach a place where they might cross the face of the mountain to the Path of Humility, still hundreds of yards above the advancing group of firenewts.  The halflings set their trap as best they can, with Martini, Sandy and Jawbreaker arrayed to catch them with missile weapons just as they come around a corner and Timothy hiding nearby, ready to unleash his sorcerous powers.  Lita hides nearby.  

The advance guard of firenewts numbers half a dozen, and when they round the corner our heroes all wonder momentarily if they’re making a mistake trying to take out so many of these things at once.  But though they are not all the bravest halflings on Strogass, they are no cowards; and with a cry, the three missile-firing members of the group let loose!  Martini and Sandy both wound firenewts with their arrows, and Jawbreaker misses with his javelin.  Then, as the newts break into a charge, the barbarian pulls forth his axe and chops a stern message into the chest of the advancing newt!  It drops like a sack of grain.  Jawbreaker laughs even as Sandy and Martini fall back a few paces, hoping to continue their barrage of missile fire.  One of Martini’s arrows takes one of the wounded firenewts in the throat and it drops.

A volley of _magic missiles_ zips out and blasts one of the other newts as Timothy steps out of hiding, his eyes darting around fearfully.  “I’ll protect you!” the former asylum inmate cries out, standing firm.

“Timothy, no!” Sandy shouts.  But it’s too late.  Two of the newts have crossbows out, and now they’ve loaded them; and as our heroes watch in horror, both fire at the young sorcerer who is bravely standing in front of his retreating friends.

By some miracle, both shots miss.

The other two advance firenewts charge in on Lita.  She has shrunken herself down to a tiny size, but the two newts just seem to think that makes her an easy target.  They flank her and slash with their longswords, but she tumbles away unhurt.  They turn to pursue her, but there is a sudden flash of colored light and one of them reels and stumbles back.  He drops his sword and then falls over flat on his back.  Timothy smiles.  He has protected his friends.

Sandy and one of the crossbowmen exchange fire, and the halfling’s arrow is the truer.  The newt misses, then gags as an arrow pierces its lung.  Glowing yellow-orange blood coughs out of the monster’s mouth and it falls.  Jawbreaker, meanwhile, cleaves the head of the one stunned by the _color spray._

The remaining crossbow wielder switches to his blade and leaps in at Sandy, who steps away and draws his longspear, letting his bow tumble to the ground.  A single deadly thrust impales the firenewt he’s facing.  

The last one, meanwhile, screams as Martini shoots off its foot.  It staggers for a few seconds, spewing fire-colored blood from its stump, then goes down with a grunt as Jawbreaker stabs him in the gut with a spear of his own.  Talk about poking him with a stick.

“There’s more,” Martini says immediately. 

“We should set up another ambush,” Sandy says, “but quickly, before they get here!”  

The group scrambles up the slope a few dozen yards to the next switchback with some cover and set their trap.  They prepare with missile weapons first, just as they did before.  “We’re lucky they haven’t been breathing fire at us,” comments Timothy, and Lita chuckles.

“We aren’t giving them time.”

The party sets up in wait, but they don’t have long to wait. 

_Crap,_ thinks Sandy as they approach.  _There must be twenty of ‘em left.  Crap crap crap._

One of the firenewts is about twenty feet of the others, and he carries a white flag.  In thickly accented Strogassian, he hisses, “Hello!  We are not here to fight!  We wish the aid of the monkss!”

_Uh oh,_ thinks Martini.  _This just got more complicated._


_*Next Time:*_ The conclusion of our little firenewt adventure!


----------



## Brain

(Timothy's player here)

Jester, I'm enjoying reading these a lot.  I don't always remember all the stuff we did, and it's great to be able to re-live it again through this story hour.


----------



## the Jester

Brain said:
			
		

> (Timothy's player here)
> 
> Jester, I'm enjoying reading these a lot.  I don't always remember all the stuff we did, and it's great to be able to re-live it again through this story hour.




Thanks! 

I don't always remember all the stuff you did either; I've prolly misrepresented a few things here and there by accident, but I try to keep the spirit as true as possible.  And I always welcome anyone to post their perspective on things, or how they perceived events; a lot of the 'Timothy thinks this or Sandy thinks that' is totally guesswork and dramatic license mixed together...


----------



## the Jester

*Parlay*

Parlay- it’s dangerous, but sometimes it is the choice with the least danger in the end.  Warily, our heroes agree to talk to the firenewts.  They meet the firenewt speaker, who explains the situation.

“Two great chiefs make strong drinkss,” the firenewt says.  “We have a contesst, you ssee.  Every year... in any event, thessse two drinksss win out over all the rest in our contesst.  And then when the tribess go to vote on the final winner, it isss a tie.”  The speaker pauses uncomfortably for a moment, then goes on, “You ssee, we know the monks are great expertss with brewing and distillery.  We need an expert opinion to decide the contesst.”

Jawbreaker guffaws.  The halflings exchange disbelieving looks.  This isn’t an attack after all?  This is... about _liquor?_  And they aren’t even here to steal the monks’ brews??

“Uh, maybe we can help,” offers Timothy blithely.  

“You get out of our way, maybe tell the monks to come to us, let them know we don’t want to hurt them.  But we need expertsss.”

“What happens if nobody decides this contest?” asks Sandy.  

The firenewt speaker glances back at the group of firenewts behind him.  On closer examination, our heroes realize there are two distinct looks to them, from color (one look is more red, the other a lighter orange) to garb (one seems to favor small bone trophies, the other is more Spartan).  And the biggest, meanest-looking member of each group is staring directly at the negotiations.  “Then tribes will fight.  Big fight, will probably spill over and hurt other people in local area.”

“Oh no!  We can’t have that!  We have to help,” Timothy exclaims.

The party draws off a few feet to talk.  “I don’t think a monastery of old men can take a troop of firenewts coming in the doors,” Martini says nervously.

“Maybe we can get them to take us as their experts, we are halflings after all.”  Sandy grins.

Lita muses, “I could probably just say that I’m an expert...”

And indeed, they try both approaches- the ‘we’re halflings = we’re experts’ technique doesn’t seem to really impress the firenewt chiefs when the speaker translates the heroes’ words to them.  But when Lita pipes up and says, “Oh yeah, I used to taste wine professionally”- they fall for it, hook, line and sinker.

Unfortunately for Lita, that means that she must now taste two bottles of liquor that smell eye-wateringly bad.  

First she samples the aroma of each, and manages to keep the horror from her face as she says, “Nice aperitifs... let them breathe for a moment...”

Then she puts a tiny amount on her tongue, swishes it around in her mouth, and spits it out.  One of the firenewt chiefs lunges to his feet, yelling and striding forward.  “You better _drink,_” the speaker says fearfully.  

“What?  No, wait- that’s how it’s done!  Tell him that’s how it’s done!”

“You better _drink,_” the speaker repeats, shaking his head.

Lita takes another sip, and this time lets it ooze down her throat.  The flavor is like dirty socks turned into tea using pungent ammonia-filled chemicals, then smoked over burning tires.  It’s truly awful, but Lita keeps her face on, revealing none of her horrible disgust at the swill.

“Interesting,” she says.  “Somewhat delicate, a very complex flavor... quite good.  My congratulations to the brewer, this is excellent.”

The other firenewt chief is frowning, and he rises now and makes a gesture at the other bottle.  Lita smiles.  She takes a big drink of water, rinses her mouth out and spits it out, then another drink of water.  Then she takes a sip of the other beverage.

Oh!  It’s spicy!  Think hot peppers melted into liquid and mixed with a greasy, undercooked chicken fat residue.  Add to that a variety of things that grow in an undercleaned toilet after a few years and you’re getting the idea.  

“Spicy,” Lita notes approvingly.  “Quite interesting.  This one is a little dryer, a little more acidic.  Very good, very good.”

The frowning firenewt chief, upon having her words translated, bursts out into a wide grin.

“Which one wins?” the speaker asks.

“Truly,” Lita says sadly, “I cannot decide.”

A few moments pass in silence as the speaker stares at Lita.  Then he asks again, “Which one winss?”

“It’s a tie.”

“That... is not possible.”

Lita’s smile slips for a second.  “Why not?”

“You only get one vote, not two.  You must decide, or chiefs will fight- maybe even here and now, at your monassstery.”  The speaker shakes his head sadly.  “That would be terrible.”

“Yes it would,” says Timothy.

Lita sighs.  For effect, she takes a second wretched sip of each drink, then makes her decision.  She lays a hand on the spicy one.  “This one.”

The brewer of the drink in question grins and lets out a triumphant hiss.  The other one snarls something at Lita and whirls to stalk off.

“Thank you,” the speaker says.

“No problem,” answers Lita.  “Say, those brews are so good- can I keep those bottles?”

“Certainly.”


_*Next Time:*_ What does Lita have planned for the bottles of firenewt liquor?  What happens when our heroes run into a halfling sheriff?  And will Lita’s ability to lie her way out of trouble help the rest of our heroes, or hinder them?  Stay tuned!


----------



## Droid101

Yuck.  Did drinking that stuff require a will save or something, to keep a straight face?

She's pretty brave, nonetheless.


----------



## the Jester

Current party makeup:

Federico (kobold bard 3/sorcerer 1) CG
Lita Alexander (halfling rogue 1/psion 1) CN
Martini (halfling ranger 1/fighter 1) CG
Timothy (halfling sorcerer 2) CG
Phenyl "Sandy" Sandybanks (halfling rogue 2/fighter 1) LE
Jawbreaker (halfling barbarian 2) CG


----------



## the Jester

*Arrested!*

_*7/9/368 O.L.G., 9:30 a.m., at the hidden monastery*_

Lita Alexander can hear the whinny of the garen outside.  The caravan is here, and they’ll all be leaving soon, their so-called ‘debt’ to this fellow Hoyle discharged.  The aged monks’ ale is ready, and the caravan is here to take it- and our heroes- away.  Debt?  More like the terms of their blackmail are over, she thinks with a silent sneer.  

Her pretty mouth twists into a frown.  Well, she has _one_ way to get even with that bastard Hoyle.

Creeping to the cask of ale, Lita pours just a little of the foulest tasting crap she’s ever experienced into the top, then carefully re-seals it and sneaks out of the shed unseen.  Oh yes; Hoyle will regret blackmailing her and her friends, whether he realizes it or not.

***

_*7/13/368 O.L.G., 11 a.m., traveling in the Brown Hills*_

Four days, and the party- once again guarding the caravan that is escorting them, presumably back to Hoyle- is enjoying a lackadaisical sort of sauntering journey.  There’s lots of good food and fair drink, though of course (gloats Lita) the monks’ brew remains sealed for sale.  

_Perfect,_ she thinks.  She is dressed in her finest clothes- a dress suitable for a noblewoman, with jewelry to match.  She almost shines with beauty.  Who can help but admire such a gorgeous-looking creature?

The day slides into noon before a figure becomes visible in the distance: a solitary rider approaching the caravan.  “Looks like a halfling,” comments Martini.

And it is- a halfling sheriff.

“You’re under arrest,” he announces.  “Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”

“What!” exclaims Martini.  “Under arrest?  For what?!”

Timothy moans and starts to rock.

“Among other things,” the sheriff replies, “murder.”

A pall of silence settles over the group.  Before any of them can respond, the sheriff continues.  “I think it’s best that you all come with me, to a _halfling_ court, where you can get a more fair trial.  Don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” he repeats. 

“But- murder?” Sandy gasps.

“Of at least one intern in the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment.”

“But they were holding someone against his will!” objects Sandy.

“A lot of the patients there are held against their will.  Sometimes, that’s what you have to do.  And it isn’t your place to make that decision- there are professionals in place to do that.”

“Professionals?”  Martini shudders.  “Professional sadists!  They cut holes in skulls and poured liquids on their patients’ brains!”

“I... may not understand the techniques of modern medicine any more than you,” the sheriff sighs, “but I do know that men are dead.  Now, will you surrender?”

“But I wasn’t even there!” protests Sandy.  “I was sick!”

“Then no doubt you will be found innocent.  I’ll ask one more time: will you surrender?”  The sheriff’s eyes are growing hard.

What a terrible choice our heroes face!  Surrender to the halfling and face trial in a (hopefully) more friendly halfling court, or try to fight or flee and end up in the Imperial justice system?  It is a quandary, and one they cannot discuss amongst themselves with the sheriff there.  He watches them all, his eyes going from one to the next.

Lita puts on her best pout and says, “Oh no!  Murder, you say?”  She flutters her hand in front of her face.  “Surely not!  What is this asylum?  I have never been there; surely you recognize by my clothing that I am not an adventuring hoodlum like these others, but a trustworthy noblewoman!”

The sheriff hesitates for a long moment.  “I must arrest you, my lady,” he says at last, “but I will ensure your proper treatment.  You will not be treated like rabble.”

After a moment’s thought, Lita answers, “Then I will surrender to you.”

Sandy grumbles but gives himself over to the sheriff as well.  His weapons are taken from him and he is manacled before he even has time to protest.  Timothy is next, unresisting, but obviously a little anxious.

“All right,” says Martini grudgingly.  He hands over his bow and sword.  He glances at Lita.  “What about her?” he asks as the sheriff locks his wrists in place.

“You don’t need to lock me up,” Lita says quickly.  “I promise I’ll behave.”  She pouts.

“Very well.”

“What!” exclaims Martini.  “That’s not fair!  She-“

“She’s a noble,” interrupts the sheriff.  That seems to be the end of it.  Lita winks at Martini as soon as the sheriff’s back is turned. 

“And you?” the sheriff demands, looking up at Jawbreaker.  “Will you come peacefully?”

“Nope,” says Jawbreaker with a grin, and pulls out his axe.

“Oh great,” groans Martini.

The sheriff and the barbarian stare at each other for a few minutes.  Finally the sheriff sighs.  “All right, barbarian- for now you can go.  It isn’t worth jeopardizing the rest of the catch to get the last fish.  But we’ll talk soon.”

“What?” Martini exclaims.  “You’re letting him go?  And you aren’t even chaining her up?  This is totally unfair, man.  Totally unfair.  I’m liking this less all the time!”

Jawbreaker jumps off the wagon.  Slowly he backs away from the sheriff and his friends.  He looks at them, already in chains, and his heart goes out to them.  But this doesn’t look like the time- not with all of them already in chains!

Get while the getting’s good, Jawbreaker thinks sadly.

He backs away until he’s just out of sight of the sheriff, then bolts for the hills.


_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes go to trial!


----------



## the Jester

Droid101 said:
			
		

> Yuck.  Did drinking that stuff require a will save or something, to keep a straight face?
> 
> She's pretty brave, nonetheless.




I seem to recall some Bluff checks and a pair of Fort saves to avoid a certain amount of illness and nausea.


----------



## Brain

I either forgot or never knew that Lita had sabotaged the beer shipment.  That Lita is a tricky one.  Timothy usually believed her lies as much as the NPCs did, which lead to some funny situations as well.


----------



## the Jester

*Pretrial Motions*

_*7/14/368 O.L.G., 8 a.m., a small town in the Brown Hills*_

“Oh no,” whines Federico, “I hate jail.”

Martini’s hands clutch at the bars.  “I won’t stay locked up,” he vows quietly.  His eyes dart left and right desperately.  “I _won’t._”

“Maybe Lita can do some good from outside,” Sandy mutters.  He sighs.  This is his first time in real trouble; he still hopes to talk his way out of this, but... he doesn’t know if it’s possible.

To Timothy, this is a lot like a bad day at the place, except that he has his friends.  So, even with the bars, it isn’t so bad.

“Hey!” Sandy yells out into the outer room.

“Yeah?”  The sheriff’s voice pipes back in to them.

“When do we go to trial?”

“Soon as the judge is ready.”

“When’s that?”

“He’ll let you know.”  The halfling sheriff walks into the cell block and stares at our heroes.  Bitterly, he says, “You let a mass murderer out, you know.”

Sandy only groans again.

***

_*6 p.m., in the Pleasant Pheasant Restaurant, two blocks from the jail*_

Lita is not in jail.  Her display of noblewoman’s clothing and her ability to bald-faced flat out lie has served her well; the sheriff is trusting her to show up for trial (hopefully to be cleared- she never even entered the asylum, after all; she was sick with the so-called “Buzzing Bowels”).  Well, she just might... but it depends on whether her lawyer thinks he can get her off.  

His name is Morgle.  His gnomish head is waxed and shiny, sporting no hair at all.  His whiskered chin has a firm cleft, and his eyes show the wrinkles that come from much laughter.  He comes highly recommended- the sheriff himself suggested that Lita try him for a good defense.  She tells him everything that happened, from the buzzing bowels to the doppelganger in the asylum to the group’s arrest the other day.  He asks many questions, probing her description of events for possible discrepancies and looking at it from many legal angles, seeking appropriate avenues of defense.

“I think we can get you off,” he tells Lita reassuringly.  “Just _don’t get in any trouble before the trial._”

***

_*7/15/368 O.L.G., 8 a.m., the jail*_

The door to the cell block opens.  “Is it breakfast time?” wonders Federico, but stops with a gasp.

Two deputies enter, followed by two orderlies from the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment.

“That’s him, all right,” one of them says, gazing directly at Timothy.

“No!” yells Martini.  “You’re not taking him back to that terrible place!”

Timothy is starting to shake.

“Come on, lad, you know it’s for your own good,” the second orderly calls to Timothy.  “Come on, Timothy.”

“How do you know they’re legitimate?” asks Sandy desperately.  “How do you know they aren’t here to spring him?”

The first orderly sneers at him.  “We came with doctor’s orders, idiot.”

“They did,” confirms one of the deputies, but he looks a little hesitant.

“You can’t take him!  He’s- he’s a witness!” cries Martini.  And he throws himself in front of the door.

“You have no proof that he’s crazy!” Federico’s little voice warbles from behind his friends.  “Don’t worry, Tim, we’ll take care of you.  We won’t let them take you back!”

“Proof?” the sneering orderly chuckles.  “We have all the proof we need- don’t we, _Timmy?_”

“No!  No, I’m Timothy, not Timmy, not Timmy, oh nooo...”

“You bastard!” spits Federico.

“None of this changes anything!” yells Martini.  “You aren’t taking him!  He’s a witness!  If you try to take him, you’ll have to go through us!”

For a few moments there is no movement.  The glaring orderly (his name is Gorn, but our heroes won’t know this until the trial) stares hard at Martini, while the deputies merely watch mutely as the struggle of wills resolves.  

Finally, Orderly Gorn snarls, “Fine.  You can keep him until the trial is over.  That shouldn’t take long.”  He turns and walks to the door, then glances back.  “Maybe when all is said and done, _you’ll_ be committed too.”  Then the two orderlies are gone.   The deputies follow. 

As he leaves, the rear deputy glances over his shoulder and says, “This is going in my report!”

Martini is shaking at the thought of the asylum.

***

_*1 p.m.*_

Lita enters the cell block.  The door is closed behind her.  

”Lita!” exclaims Federico.  “I knew you hadn’t abandoned us!”

“Hurray, Lita!” calls Timothy.  “Are you a doctor too?”

“What?”  Lita is confused.

“You are very talented- you’re a wine taster, and a noblewoman, and an adventurer.  Are you a doctor too?  Because then you could tell the orderlies what to do, and tell them to leave me alone.  I don’t want to go back to the place.”

Quickly our heroes explain to Lita about the visit from the orderlies.  “That’s terrible!” she exclaims.  

“Maybe you could steal their writ or orders or whatever,” Martini suggests.  “Then they won’t be able to take Timothy.”

“I might try to visit the judge, too,” she muses.  “Maybe I can ‘persuade’ him to let you guys go.  I’m going to try to work on the sheriff, too.”

***

_*3 p.m.*_

The cell block door opens again, and this time it is a distinguished looking gnome our heroes don’t recognize.  He introduces himself as Lita’s lawyer, and asks for the party’s view of events.  He listens to what they say, thanks them cordially, then rises to go.

“Wait a second,” Sandy calls to him.  “Could we get some kind of magical truth checking or something?”

“Perhaps, but it would be expensive and it would not be foolproof anyway.  There are always ways to get around magical checks.”

“Can we hire you to represent us?”

“I’m afraid not,” the gnome replies regretfully.  “It would represent a conflict of interests with my client Lita Alexander.”  He leaves them more than a little worried.

“What did that mean?” asks Timothy aloud.

***

_*8 p.m., outside the jail*_

Lita stands in the shadows of the jail and considers her options.  She doesn’t like the way this is looking.  Her attorney seems competent enough, but he’s not helping her friends.  And those orderlies coming to take Timothy back to the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment- no, we can’t have that.  

So she lights the building on fire.


_*Next Time:*_ Oops, what happens when the jail burns down?  Will Lita continue to get away with murder (figuratively speaking)?  And what happens at the trial??


----------



## the Jester

*The Trial*

_*7/15/368 O.L.G., 8:04 p.m., the jail of a small town in the Brown Hills*_

“Do you smell something?”  

Our heroes are in their cell, sitting despondently.  Several are asleep, but they rouse themselves as Martini speaks.  “What?” croaks Sandy.

“Smoke,” Timothy mumbles, staring vacantly ahead.  “I smell smoke.”

For a moment nobody speaks as everyone takes a deep breath, scenting the air.  Several eyes grow wide.  “Uh oh,” whines Federico.  

Then they’re yelling for the deputies, and the next thing they know the fire is licking outside the window.  Outside Lita starts shouting, trying to attract attention and get her friends out.  “Fire!” she cries.  “The jail’s on fire!”  The next hour is a blur; there’s general pandemonium as the halflings sit, trapped, in the burning building, screaming for help as the flames spread; then suddenly one of the deputies, named Barny, arrives, smashing through a burning door and freeing the halflings at the cost of severe burns; and then another deputy arrives, and the two escort our heroes from their cell, but a burning beam collapses, smashing Deputy Barny across the neck and killing him.  When the halfling band is shakily reassembled, the sheriff reluctantly allows them to stay at the inn down the street on Lita’s parole (her noblewoman disguise continues to suit the group well).

Most of the townsfolk awoke to help aid in the fight against the fire.  Somberly, they now return to their beds, but an edifice of their town is gone.  What started the fire?  Nobody’s sure, but the halfling noblewoman claims to have seen someone performing arson, and claims loudly that someone is out to get her friends.

The chaos of the night at last fades at last as our heroes fall into a deep, exhausted slumber.  When the dawn’s light trickles through the windows of their rooms, our heroes rise unhappily and prepare to go to trial.  The hours of morning tick by as the halflings eat a sturdy, filling breakfast and discuss their legal strategy.  Unfortunately, none of them are lawyers, and so they have only the most cursory ability to mount an effective defense.  “We’ll just have to hope the truth will serve us,” comments Federico, his tail between his legs in fright.

And then the deputies, still soot-covered and angry over their loss in the night, arrive to escort our heroes none to gently to the court house.

They find Lita already there, sitting with her lawyer; when they move to sit next to her, he intervenes, insisting that they be in their own section so as not to harm his chances of getting Lita acquitted.  More and more, Martini thinks this gnome attorney is going to throw them to the wolves.  

The judge, despite the sheriff’s claims of bringing them to halfling justice, is a human.  Sandy finds his stomach dropping when he realizes that things are even worse than he’d feared.*

The charges are read.  Our heroes are accused on disrupting government property, releasing a bunch of asylum inmates on the populace, kidnapping, obstructing justice and cold-blooded murder.  To their dismay, our heroes recognize two of the asylum’s orderlies sitting in the crowd- no doubt awaiting their chance to drive the nails into the halflings’ coffin, so to speak.  Morgle, Lita’s gnomish attorney, watches our heroes attentively from his seat.  

The prosecutor is a weasely-looking elf named Kelaryng.  He’s got a half-tousled look to him, with actual stubble on his chin (highly unusual in the normally fresh-faced elves); perhaps there is a touch of human blood in his ancestry.  He is constantly whispering in to the judge throughout the trial, whenever it is not his turn to present arguments to the court.  Our heroes instantly dislike him, and with good reason.

Judge Lunder bangs his gavel, calls the court to order, and bids Kelaryng present his case.  The elf immediately starts off by calling the halflings a bewildering number of names that mean bad guy, villain and murderer.  “They callously unleashed forty madmen on Strogass, not caring whether they would harm others or themselves,” he asserts.  “They murdered a doctor trying to protect his patients, and several orderlies just following orders,” he tells the judge.  He paints a picture of our heroes as truly villainous.  He points out just how suspicious the jail’s burning was.  The judge studies him as he speaks but maintains silence.

For his first witness, the prosecutor calls Orderly Gorn, and asks him to describe the events in question, and he tells of the party’s arrival at the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment, Federico’s show, and the party’s subsequent freeing of all the inmates.

“Are any of the freed inmates dangerous?” asks Kelaryng.

“Oh, yes,” answers Gorn.  “The infamous mass murderer Manson, for one.”

Gorn also points out Timothy as an escaped or kidnapped inmate.  The lad starts rocking in his chair, though Sandy places a hand on his shoulder and murmurs reassurances to him.

The party has a chance to cross-examine Gorn after Kelaryng is done with him, and they establish nothing good.  He claims not to have seen the body of Dr. Zimmer.

The next orderly called, Orderly Brown, was with Dr. Zimmer when he was killed.  He also points out Timothy as an escaped inmate, and firmly states that the doctor was murdered by a group of halflings and a kobold including our heroes.

Federico cross-examines him, establishing that Dr. Zimmer changed into a nonhuman, grey-skinned creature upon his decapitation.

Then Kelaryng calls each of our heroes to the stand, one at a time, and questions them ruthlessly about their part in events.  Federico tells the court everything that happened.  He claims that Dr. Zimmer had been replaced by a doppelganger, but must admit that he’s never seen a doppelganger.  He asks the judge if they can send for the head as evidence, but the judge declines, given the costs involved in delaying a judge (retrieving the head would take a few weeks).**  The kobold tells the court all about the “horrible” asylum, describing the frightening techniques practiced on victims there (trepanation, trepaniering, etc).  Kelaryng forces him to admit that he’s not a doctor and is therefore ignorant of the propriety of such things; and after all, it’s the Asylum of _Advanced_ Mental Treatment for a reason, isn’t it?  Federico, when asked why they were really there, says, “We were there to rescue one of our friends who was being held there unjustly against his will.”

This gives the attorney a whole new line of questioning to pursue.  Who is this friend?  Norman.  And where is he now?  Federico doesn’t know.  Well, why was he in the asylum?  Again, the kobold has no answer.  Well, what does he do?  Uncomfortable uncertainty is the answer.  Hm, and when did you first meet him?  In the asylum itself, eh?  Not much of an old friend, is he?

“Well, he’s actually Sandy’s friend, but Sandy’s my friend and I trust him!”

“This is ridiculous!” cries Martini, jumping to his feet.  “This isn’t justice!  That asylum was-“

Judge Lunder’s gavel falls like thunder.  “Quiet!” he thunders.  “You may be called to testify, but wait your turn!  Such outbursts are unacceptable.”

Grumbling, Martini sits back down and Federico is released from the stand.

Sandy claims total ignorance of all the events.  “I was sick at the time,” he says.  “I had a terrible disease called the buzzing bowels.”

“But this ‘Norman’ is your friend?”

“More a friend of a friend,” Sandy hedges.

It is established that Sandy’s ‘patron’ had asked him to free Norman.  Was either Sandy or his patron a doctor?  No.  Interesting, Kelaryng comments dryly, and starts drawing a picture of Sandy as the group’s ringleader.

Lita is called to the stand.  “I wasn’t even there,” she protests.  She tells of meeting the group while lost in the mountains, and then becoming terribly ill with the buzzing bowels.  The next thing she really remembers is the monastery, long after the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment had been left behind.  No, she didn’t know Norman; she never even consciously met him.  No, she didn’t really even know the party at the time of the events in question.  

“I don’t even know why you’re on trial with the others,” Judge Lunder says unhappily.  “The charges against you are dismissed.  You are free to go.”

She is allowed to step down, but she remains in the audience near her friends.  Morgle shakes her hand and murmurs congratulations. 

The trial takes an hour for lunch, then resumes.  Then the elf calls Timothy to the stand.  Martini leaps to his feet and protests loudly, but again the gavel comes down and the judge demands that he sit down and shut up.  Timothy’s arrival on the stand causes no small consternation to the group, as Kelaryng easily establishes that he in crazy as a loon and an escaped inmate.  That Timothy’s fate is sealed seems clear enough, although on cross Timothy gets to describe how Dr. Zimmer had changes substantially a few months before the events in question.  

Next Kelaryng gets to Martini, who snarls angrily at the lawyer.  The Judge frowns, obviously not especially pleased with the halfling ranger.  Here Kelaryng establishes that none our heroes (that are present) did in fact kill the doctor and at least two inmates.

“Who did?” demands Kelaryng.

“Jawbreaker,” Martini snaps back.  “And the sheriff _let him go._  Where’s the justice in that?  Why are we-“

“Stick to answering the questions, please,” Kelaryng interrupts smoothly. 

The damning thing that Martini is forced to admit is that the party cut down the orderlies when they weren’t even armed- or rather, they were armed with nonlethal weapons, saps.

The day has slipped by.  It is now early evening.  The trial winds down with closing statements, and then Judge Lunder announces that he will retire to his chambers to make his decisions.  Tension runs through the courtroom as the judge leaves.

“Good luck,” Lita mutters to her friends.



*Interestingly enough, the reason there was a human judge was that Lita had made several attempts to meet the original judge, and eventually word got out that said judge might have been tampered with.  Alas for our heroes! 

**10,000 gp per day fees are assessed.


_*Next Time:*_ The Decision!


----------



## the Jester

The coolest thing about this session was having a guest player run the judge.  (I freely admit that I swiped this straight from Piratecat's game and the old trial of the Defenders of Daybreak in Eversink!)  It was cool- I told the player the legal situation and explained the essentials about the political situation surrounding the trial as well, and gave him total freedom to judge as he saw fit.


----------



## Droid101

Heh, I _love_ those courtroom adventures.  Things don't look good for the halflings...

I've always wanted to run one, but my PCs always seem to be escaping.  Rats!


----------



## Brain

I thought that the judge was a dwarf for some reason.


----------



## the Jester

Brain said:
			
		

> I thought that the judge was a dwarf for some reason.




Hmm, I could be misremembering, but wasn't the first judge (the one who was 'tampered' by Lita) a dwarf?

I'm not sure, at this point...


----------



## the Jester

*The Verdict*

_*7/16/368 O.L.G., 7:30 p.m., the courthouse*_

Our heroes exchange nervous glances as the judge emerges from his chambers.  His deliberations lasted only thirty minutes.  

This doesn’t look all that good....

Judge Lunder takes his seat and looks the party over.  His face is not filled with joy.

“All right,” he begins without preamble, “first of all, I’m striking all records of Lita Alexander even being accused of these crimes.  She is completely exonerated as far as I’m concerned, and shouldn’t have even been here and had to go through this.”  Lita smiles at the judge but he ignores her.  

“You, Timothy- you were broken free of the institute in question and taken away.  I’m returning you to their care.”  Martini grimaces, his face growing angry.  “You there,” the judge snaps at him.  “Martini.  Disposing of Dr. Zimmer was a noble act.  The evidence shows that he was a doppelganger.  But you let the lunatics go free.  Moreover, you seem to have a real problem with anger, so I’m sending you to the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment for evaluation.”

Martini is thunderstruck.  “No!” he gasps.  He looks around wildly, tensing, almost ready to run, but he sees all the guards and knows this is not the time to resist.  He collapses into his chair, seeming small and frightened.

_I won’t let them lock me up,_ Martini vows to himself. 

“Now then- the lunatics must be rounded up.  There are fifty inmates who got loose.  I expect it will cost the state 200 imperials to round each of them up.  Therefore I’m fining your group a sum of 10,000 gp.”

More silence.  _Ten thousand!_ Sandy thinks despairingly.  

“You will have one year to pay it off.  Also, for each of the lunatics you return to the institute in question your fine will be reduced by 200 gp.”  He turns his hard gaze on Sandy.  “Phenyl Sandybanks, as you were the ringleader, I’m fining you an extra 2000 gp.”

“The ringleader!” splutters Sandy.

“As to the kobold- after some consideration, I have decided not to have him castrated.  He seems completely tame.”

“Oh, I am, sir, arf,” Federico replies timidly.

Timothy holds up his hand.

“Yes, what is it, Timothy?” the judge asks testily.

”Please, Your Honor, don’t send me back to the place,” Timothy begs.  “I’m getting better with my friends’ help, I really am.  He turns his big puppy eyes on the judge.  “I’ll do what you tell me, but they’re helping me more than the place ever did.”

The judge hesitates for a moment, then nods to himself.  “Very well, I want you re-evaluated.  So let it be done.”  He bangs his gavel.  

And the party, escorted by guards and the two orderlies, begins their journey back to the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment.

_*Next Time:*_ Return to the Asylum!


----------



## the Jester

_*7/27/368 O.L.G., 3:10 p.m., the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment*_

The week’s journey to the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment has seen Martini and Timothy become more and more agitated, fearing that they will be locked away in the institute.  Again and again Martini has muttered to himself that he’ll die before being locked up.  Along the way they encountered a mysterious man beneath a waterfall, who gave Timothy a strange, gelatinous morsel that made him wiser for a few short minutes.  He begged some more of the stuff from the creature, hoping it will help him pass his exam, and the man agreed.  Now, as the group finally arrives at the asylum, they instantly notice a heavier security detail than the orderlies that were present during their assault; this time the security looks like it’s being handled by professionals.  The guards are better armed and armored than their predecessors, and there are significantly more of them as well.  There will be no more easy midnight break-outs, that’s for sure.  

Orderly Zagly Brown has become ever more sympathetic throughout the journey.  Martini, Federico and Sandy keep hammering at the point that the prior head of the asylum was replaced by a doppelganger.  Funny stuff is afoot.  Something fishy is going on.  

Or so he seems to believe.

The new head of the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment is named Doctor Avendzo.  He is an impressive-looking and somewhat pompous gnome whose attitude seems somewhat disciplinarian.  He scolds Orderly Brown for speaking out of turn, he locks Martini and Timothy in the institute pending the results of their evaluations and allows them no contact with their friends in the party.

***

_*7/28/368 O.L.G., 8:30 a.m.*_

In the morning, the rest of the group looks for leads to the escaped prisoners, and they learn several helpful pieces.  One of the escaped dwarven inmates came originally from a village only a few miles away to the north.  Two of the inmates went everywhere together, and one of them has a gimpy leg; if they’re still together, they can’t have gotten too far.  And one of the escapees had a sick obsession with the Buzzing Fens. 

“Let’s go out in a spiral,” suggests Federico, and the party slowly begins a search, aided by Orderly Brown, who quickly finds some tracks.  

”Two people,” he reports, “one with a gimpy leg.”  

The group finds the two in a little cave that’s barely more than a crawlspace.  The two escapees look awful; haggard, half-starved, weather-bitten... Our heroes pass them food and water, and soon the two are escorted ‘home’ to the asylum.

Dr. Avendzo congratulates them on their early success.  They discuss the escapees with him, and discover that the one he wants caught the most is named Manson- a mass murderer of six hundred and sixty one people.  “That’s scary,” squeaks Federico.  

The day is still young at this point- it can’t be later than one in the afternoon- and so our heroes strike out for the dwarven village to the north.  Along the way they fight more of the hippogriffs, but nobody is wounded very badly.  One of the hippogriffs escapes, flying shakily away, and they track it, following the leaking splatters of blood that dropped from its wounds.  This technique takes them quickly to the creatures’ nest, where they finish the survivor an d harvest a considerable amount of meat from the dead creature.

And in descending the mountains back to the road- by now evening has fallen- the group spots a single figure, not far off in the mountains, that looks like... another halfling!  Perhaps it’s Roscoe?  But no... it looks female.  And clearly, she’s spotted them as well.

Soon they meet.

She is indeed a halfling.  She is pleasantly fat, large-bosomed, with a head shaved of hair except for a thin line bisecting her head from the scalp to the base of the back of her skull.  She’s tattooed up and dressed fairly simply.  She eyes our heroes suspiciously, then looks at Orderly Brown with a... somewhat different expression.

“Hi!” Sandy greets her.  “My name is Sandy, and we’re a bunch of experienced halfling adventurers on a quest!”  He puffs up proudly.  “And you?”

“A quest, eh?”  She licks her lips and picks at her teeth momentarily, gazing hungrily at Brown.  “Well, pleased to meet you.  I’m a halfling, too, kind of, em, searching around the mountains here.”

“Oh, really?  Well, these mountains are very dangerous!  I recommend that you not try these things on your own.  Maybe we could join forces,” Sandy suggests.

“Mmmm... at least for the moment, that sounds fine.”  She smiles at Brown, then turns to the others.  “So, what quest are you on?”

“We’re wrangling loonies,” explains Federico.  “We let a bunch of people go from an asylum, and now we’re trying to collect them again.”

“You let them loose?  And now you’re...?  But why?”

Sandy yammers, ”It’s actually very complicated, and it involves strange mental treatments, a disease called the buzzing bowels, the sheriff and a trial and a bunch of people who aren’t even here.  Trust us, though, we’re seasoned adventurers.  Stick with us and you’ll be fine.” 

Naomi shrugs and falls into step with the group.  They haven’t gone a quarter mile when she leans over and surreptitiously whispers to Federico, “When do we cook the human?”

_*Next Time:*_ Wow, this Naomi girl is _creepy._  Will she remain with the party?  Is she really as she appears?  And what terrible monsters will ambush our heroes??


----------



## the Jester

*The Jackal-Things*

_*10:30 a.m., 7/30/368 O.L.G., in the Brown Hills*_

When they encounter the weird jackal-creatures, it almost ends their tale once and for all.

The party is traveling through the hills, still heading north for the dwarven community.  Their new... friend?  Traveling companion, anyway- Naomi- ambles along with them, her hands digging in her pouch for bits of jerky almost constantly.  Something about her is creepy- perhaps her continued attempts to persuade the group to eat Orderly Brown.  

“That’s _wrong,_” Federico protests.

“Why?” demands Naomi.  “It isn’t like it’s cannibalism.  He isn’t a halfling, after all.”  _Hmm, neither are you- and you look sort of like a chicken,_ she reflects, staring hungrily at the kobold.  _Kobold’s good, as long as it isn’t too tough, but this one looks awfully scrawny.  Something to think about, anyway._  She licks her chops.  

Later in the morning, the group encounters a gnome named Boddynock.  Poor Boddynock, it turns out, was sort of exiled from his village when he played a practical joke of some sort that went awry, or offended the wrong person, or something.  The details are hazy; nonetheless, Boddynock mentions that he is a wizard, and as he is a small folk, the rest of the party is happy to welcome him to the group.  He joins the party, at least for the moment, but he is a little taken aback by their quest to return the escaped inmates to the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment when they are the ones who let the escapees out in the first place.

“Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Sandy says.  “We’re seasoned adventurers; it all makes sense.”

The group’s journey takes them through a small valley with a brook running through it.  Several large rock piles are nearby, and as they thread their way through them, they suddenly find themselves confronting a trio of what appear to be humans.  “Who are you?” calls Federico, cautiously casting _mage armor_ on his dog Ethel.  

The figures grin wordlessly and their features change.  It’s like watching wax melt and flow into a new configuration.  Before they know what’s happened, the ‘human’ heads have changed into jackal-heads... and Orderly Brown’s legs fold from under him as he drops into a deep sleep!

Things go from bad to worse as the jackal-headed creatures prove nearly immune to halfling weaponry.  Their blows glance off the monsters, leaving little more than scratches!  Sandy drops into slumber a few moments later, and Federico, Naomi and Boddynock are hard pressed to hold out against the strange jackal-men, who press in with scimitars, slashing and cutting at all of them.  Ethel, growling fiercely, pulls one from its feet, and though her teeth don’t hurt it as much as they should, she manages to keep it out of the fight as it tries to get up only to have her trip it again!

Namoi’s potent mind helps.  The monsters’ supernatural resistance to weaponry avails them naught against her _mind thrust;_ and when Boddynock manages to stun one of the creatures with a _color spray,_ the group cheers.  This allows them to focus on the standing one, but he swings his scimitar at Ethel and connects, knocking out her two front teeth!  She yelps but keeps fighting. 

Then the monster that stands gives a great howl and clutches its head.  Its blade falls to the ground at its feet.  Blood begins to pour from its nose, mouth, ears and eyes, and it collapses.  Behind it, Naomi grins a sharp-toothed grin.  

Once this happens- with a second creature struggling to fend Ethel off long enough to regain his feet, and failing, a the final one in a stupor from the _color spray,_ it’s only a matter of time before they whittle the conscious one down.  And when Boddynock, once he’s expended his offensive spells, wakes up Orderly Brown and Sandy, they simply choke the stunned one to death, cutting off its air supply and suffocating it.

Shaken, the group is nonetheless intact.  “If only one more of us had succumbed to the sleep gaze,” groans Federico, “we’d probably all be dead!”

Indeed.  Fortunately, they all survived.  And unbeknownst to them, reinforcements are on the way!


_*Next Time:*_ The return of Thelonious, Martini and Timothy’s psychological evaluations, and bugbears!


----------



## R-Hero

I starded to try my hand at a story hour but it has already been done.

One of the few games I DM was "Of Sound Mind" and the twist I had put on it was assingning pre-rolled halfling characters to my players, (by random drawing)

Some in the group were 'kick in the door' type of power gamers and I was trying to get them to rely on more role playing, just for a change. (They were almost a party of sprites, but I thought that might be a little much.)

Great Story Hour, b.t.w. I look forward to reading more.  I'm surprised your title didn't catch my eye earlier, but I've only been on En-World for a little while and playing in JollyDoc's Shackled City for a little longer than that.


----------



## the Jester

R-Hero said:
			
		

> I starded to try my hand at a story hour but it has already been done.




Sorry I beat you to the punch!   However, my halfling group wasn't pregenerated.  

Thanks for the feedback, welcome to the boards, and hey, don't let the fact that I've done it myself stop you from writing a SH!  In my opinion, it's a ton of fun to write a SH, even if nobody reads it much.


----------



## threshel

I read it everytime it cycles up.  You've done a great job with it, it's one of my favorites.


J


----------



## Droid101

I still laugh picturing all the halflings fighting.


----------



## the Jester

*The Evaluation*

Please answer the following questions.  Choose the answer that best describes the way you feel.  Choose only one answer for each question.  Please maintain silence while filling out the questionnaire in order to ensure an unbiased report on your psychological status.  Remember that failing to answer every question with the best answer available is a crime under the statutes establishing the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment and is punishable by a fine of up to 1000 gold pieces for each unanswered (or falsely answered) question.

Name: 	
Race:
Sex:
Age:


1. Why are you at the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment?
	A. I am sick and need help.
	B. I am the victim of persecution or conspiracy.
	C. You know exactly why I’m here.
	D. I am not certain why I am here.
	E. Strange things happen around me.

2. Describe your relationship with your parents.
	A. My parents are dead.
	B. My parents love me very much.
	C. I hate my parents.
	D. My parents and I have fundamental disagreements.
	E. I will not disappoint my parents.

3. Describe any habits or hobbies you have.
	A. I have habits and hobbies only that advance my life’s work.
	B. What seem to be hobbies to you are actually very important, if 			inscrutable, activities.
	C. I like to organize things in my spare time.
	D. I play lots of games.
	E. There is something that I habitually destroy in a ritualistic manner.

4. Describe your feelings towards Bleak.
	A. Bleak shelters me.
	B. I don’t care about Bleak and Bleak doesn’t care about me.
	C. I go to church because I am supposed to.
	D. Bleak grants me great powers.
	E. I hate Bleak.

5. Which best describes your deepest sexual fantasy?
	A. My sexual fantasies involve hurting and controlling others.
	B. My sexual fantasies involve being hurt or killed.
	C. My sexual fantasies involve my parents or other close family members.
	D. I have no feelings of sexuality whatsoever.
	E. I hate sex and all it stands for.


6. Do you have any exceptional mental abilities?
	A. I can cause strange events to happen with my mind.
	B. I am extremely intelligent.
	C. I can read minds.
	D. I have a talent for numbers.
	E. My mental abilities are sub-par.

7. Do you sometimes like to hurt people?
	A. Yes.
	B. Only those that deserve it.
	C. The things I hurt are not people.
	D. I prefer dealing emotional pain to physical.
	E. It doesn’t matter whether the things I do hurt others.

8. How is your memory?
	A. I sometimes forget things.
	B. There are big periods of time I cannot account for.
	C. I have trouble remembering names and faces.
	D. I have an amazing memory that keeps track of everything.
	E. I have a remarkable memory for strange trivia.

9. How do you feel about death?
	A. I am afraid of dying.
	B. I am fascinated by death.
	C. It should be a sacrifice to Bleak.
	D. People overreact to death.
	E. I look forward to experiencing all sides of death.

10. Do you like to get intoxicated?
	A. I am drunk or high all the time.
	B. I hate getting intoxicated.
	C. Intoxication is for the weak.
	D. I sometimes indulge in intoxicating agents.
	E. I don’t have a problem with intoxicants.

11. How do you feel about other races?
	A. They are inferior to my race.
	B. I don’t understand them.
	C. Different races offer different things.
	D. They don’t count.
	E. We are natural enemies.

12. Do you feel that people understand you?
	A. I am beyond the comprehension of lesser beings.
	B. My parents understand me.
	C. I don’t understand myself.
	D. I believe the doctors here can understand me.
	E. I am easy to understand.

13. How do you feel about magic?
	A. Magic is a tool, neither good nor evil.
	B. We would be better off without magic.
	C. It comes from the gods.
	D. Magic is the key to power.
	E. The potential for abuse of magic regretfully means that we should not 	use it.

14. Do people have any obligations towards each other?
	A. People are obligated only towards their betters.
	B. Our lives are nothing but a web of obligations.
	C. An obligation is an honor.
	D. Many are obligated to me for one thing or another.
	E. Obligation is an illusion; we are obligated because we believe we are.

15. When you have a conflict with a friend, how do you resolve it?
	A. We compromise.
	B. I have no friends.
	C. I usually give in; it’s not worth fighting with my friends over. 
	D. My friends do as I say.
	E. Friendship is all about power roles.

16. What is your earliest memory about?
	A. I remember suckling at my mother’s teat.
	B. Something painful and scarring.
	C. The first time I saw blood.
	D. Some sort of sound.
	E. A person whose name I do not know.

17. What will happen to you when you die?
	A. Bleak will consume my soul.
	B. I will become a greater being on a lower or higher plane.
	C. I cannot die.
	D. I do not believe what I have heard about the afterlife.
	E. I will somehow cheat death. 

18. What is important in life?
	A. Material happiness.
	B. My family.
	C. My soul.
	D. Power over others.
	E. People other than myself.

19. Does your family have any history of mental illness?
	A. A distant relative in a far branch of the family once went mad.
	B. Several of my relatives have different forms of insanity.
	C. There has never ever been any madness in my family, and I am 		perfectly lucid myself.  My presence here is an aberration.
	D. Insanity is just a different point of view.
	E. Several of my family members have been considered insane, but only 	because others could not recognize their brilliance.

20. Describe your diet.
	A. I eat lots of rare, bloody meat.
	B. I prefer to eat things that are not socially acceptable. 
	C. I refuse to eat the flesh of an animal.
	D. I consume souls in order to power my own apotheosis.
	E. I do not think about what I eat.

21. How honest are you?
	A. I am always totally honest, but others often misunderstand my meaning.
	B. I lie to those inferior to me without a second thought.
	C. Since truth is completely subjective, this question is meaningless.
	D. I lie whenever it is convenient.
	E. I lie only when I must.


“Oh dear,” murmurs Martini, and dips his quill in ink.


----------



## the Jester

*Bugbears in the Ruins*

_*8/1/369 O.L.G., 11:30 a.m., in the Brown Hills*_

Picture three figures, two walking and one on a kocho.*  The two that walk are small, dwarfed by the riding bird.  The third of them is larger, still smaller than the kocho but not by much.  The bird darts its head this way and that, always on the lookout for trouble; but the travelers laugh and joke as they move along, stopping periodically for the big one to check the trail they’re following.  They trade off; the little ones sometimes ride, sometimes the big one.  

The three figures reach the rest of our heroes not long before noon, and they are greeted cheerily.  Martini and Timothy were expected; but the appearance of Thelonious is an unexpected pleasure.

“Where did you get the kocho?” asks Lita, amazed.

“The asylum.”  Thelonious explains that, since they got separated near the Buzzing Fens after their journey through the Underdark, he was down with the buzzing bowels for some time, then made his way to the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment.  It had been some time since the group raided it and set all the inmates free, and word had already come that the party was on trial; so Thelonious, anticipating that he might be able to aid them from within, signed on as a guard.  

When Martini and Timothy had been evaluated (with Timothy eating his _food of wisdom_ that had been given to him by a waterfall faerie immediately beforehand), they had both come out as being all right.  “The trick, I figured out in the middle,” Martini comments, “was to answer like a Bleak worshiper.”  The others nod in understanding.  

“The doctor said I’m getting better,” Timothy mumbles.  

“Sure you are, Tim,” Martini says comfortingly.

***

_*3:30 p.m.*_

The group finds some tracks in the gully they are traveling through.  “Humanoid,” nods Thelonious, “but bigger than us.  It might be some of the crazy people.”

The group sets out to follow the tracks, and follows them right into an ambush.  The trail leads them up to the edge of the gully, to a path along the side of a mountain that seems to lead to the ruin of a town, and then suddenly arrows rain down on them from above!  Timothy gives a terrible warbling yell as two shafts sink into him, and he stumbles and almost drops to the ground.  Instead he stumbles into the brush and drops down below the level of the bushes, hoping to conceal himself.  He crawls, bleeding, over the edge of the path, and drags himself into a completely covered position, whimpering and groaning.

The arrows are coming from a ruined building atop a plateau on the mountain.  Bugbears are within it!  Most of the party slips from shadow to shadow, from cover to cover, but Boddynock starts shooting his crossbow at the window through which the bugbears are firing.  His first bolt glances off the window.  Martini is taking a more direct approach, running forward full tilt- and then he reaches the window, and his greatsword thrusts out and stabs deep into the first bugbear’s chest!  

Martini rapidly finds himself beset by a pair of bugbears with morning stars, while the last continues firing arrows at Thelonious, who is hanging back and shooting a steady stream of arrows at the foe.  Lita keeps darting in for a sneak attack or to lob alchemist’s fire and then leaping back around a corner to hide, and the bugbears seem to be becoming daunted by the fierce opposition these little halflings are mounting.  Surely they weren’t expecting that!

A flaming bugbear leaps out of the ruined building, howling, and dives into the brackish water of a fountain that is a few dozen feet further into the ruin, extinguishing the flames.  Unfortunately for it, Martini has just hacked down another of its buddies, and Thelonious finishes the one in the fountain itself off with aplomb.  The final bugbear gives a last scream as Timothy _magic missiles_ it to death.  

Seeing no reason to stop when they’re ahead, our heroes quickly advance and slay several more bugbears.  Unfortunately, several of them are already wounded, and by the end of this fight, both Timothy and Boddynock are unconscious, with Timothy about as close as you can get to death without actually shaking his hand and moving in to his house. 

In the ruins near the fountain is a well with a large bucket and winch apparatus attached- a bucket big enough to haul a bugbear up or down.  Tossing it down the well, followed by a flask of oil, Lita observes a tunnel at the bottom.  _Interesting,_ she thinks, and then frowns.  The oil will probably alert any other bugbears that might be in there, but at least their bucket won’t be able to haul ‘em up.  After a moment’s thought, she tosses the chain it road on to the bottom of the well, too.

“I bet the other bugbears come after us,” Sandy says nervously.

“What other bugbears?” asks Lita.

“What do you mean, ‘what other bugbears?’  There’s _always_ other bugbears!  Trust me on this, I’m a seasoned adventurer.  There are more.”

_Probably,_ Lita concedes inwardly.  

“Well,” she says after a moment, “what do you say we trap the hole?”

They both look at the well.  And smile a very halfling smile.

_*Next Time:*_ Bugbears in the well!


*Kocho are riding birds.  They are flightless, mean carnivorous critters commonly used as mounts.


----------



## threshel

Keep up the good work!

J


----------



## the Jester

*Bugbears in the Well*

_*8/1/369 O.L.G., 6 p.m., some ruins in the Brown Hills*_

Lita and Sandy urgently begin planning to trap the well before any bugbears can come out, but they’re too slow.  Fortunately, Lita manages to catch the big goblinoid in the face with a flask of alchemist’s fire before it slips on the scum of soap coating the rim of the well, and it screams and falls.  There’s a _thud_ from the well and the sounds of some excited voices talking below.  Our heroes tense, but after a few moments, the voices draw off.

“They’ll wait until dark,” guesses Sandy. 

***

_*9 p.m.*_

Their tools are crude and their options are few, but Sandy and Lita have done brilliantly with what they had.  

The well, from which they presume bugbears are going to emerge, is covered with a blanket.  Large rocks- well, large for a halfling to forage and carry back, anyhow- weight it down on the ground around the well.  Atop the blanket is another flask of Lita’s alchemist’s fire.  Coating the rim of the well, under the blanket, is a film of moist soap.  

“It’ll have to do,” Lita says nervously.  “We’re in no shape to fight.”

“We should move off a ways to rest, maybe into the building the first bugbears were in,” suggests Sandy.  The two halflings haul their friends’ wounded forms out of sight and try to disguise them with rubble and brush.  Then they hide themselves and fade into exhausted sleep themselves.

***

_*8/2/369 O.L.G., 8:30 a.m.*_

“I’ll be damned, it worked,” Sandy says.

Their trap is intact.  A single arrow is lodged into it from below; it appears to have pierced the alchemist’s fire, burning a hole in the center of the blanket (and likely the archer below).  A look down the well reveals two corpses.  

“They’ll try again,” Sandy states.  

“How do you know there are more of them?” Boddynock asks.  He is still terribly wounded, but he is at least conscious.  Timothy remains on the edge of death.  

“What are you talking about?  I’m a seasoned adventurer, and trust me- there are _always_ more bugbears,” Sandy replies firmly.  

“Maybe we should just leave, then,” Boddynock shrugs.

“No way!” Lita exclaims.  “Maybe they have some inmates from the asylum- or some treasure.  Let’s take these bugbears out.  Besides, how are we going to carry Timothy?”  They all think of their somewhat autistic companion- he’s _chubby,_ and since they have put him on the halfling program (since he thinks he’s a human, all evidence to the contrary notwithstanding) he’s really learned to eat.

“Good point,” admits Boddynock.

_*1 p.m.*_

The day is dry and dusty.  Our heroes continue to watch the well.  Suddenly a series of sounds presages a flurry of arrows from below.  The blanket is pierced, and a couple of vials of acid and another alchemist’s fire drop down.  This time the arrows continue- clearly there are several archers below. 

Once the blanket it shredded, the arrows stop for a moment.  Our heroes wait, sweaty in the hot sun, and to their surprise a voice calls up to them.  Lita and Sandy exchange a glance and shrug. 

“Oh, can’t you understand them?” asks Boddynock.

The halflings turn to the gnome.  “You speak goblin?”

“You don’t?”

***

It turns out that the bugbear talking is the leader of the tribe in the ruins.  He seems to feel that he’s lost enough people.  He wants the group to let his people climb out of the well peacefully, and demands to know who they are and what they want.  His folk have no source of food below the well, so they have to come out soon peacefully or no.  Surprised by such a reasonable-sounding bugbear, the party (through Boddynock, who acts as the translator) asks whether the bugbears have seen or heard of any of the escaped inmates, describing the hospital smocks they had been wearing when the party released them.  The bugbear chief declares that he has several of the smocks, but informs the party that, sadly, their wearers are no longer available.

“That’s a polite way of saying we ate them,” he admits, when pressed.

“Maybe the smocks will be worth something,” suggests Sandy with a sigh.

And so the bugbear chief and our heroes work out an exchange.  The bugbears are allowed free the next morning, the party is given the smocks, and they move on, heading back to the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment to report in and return the smocks.  The new head doctor, Dr. Avendzo, sighs sadly at the new of the deaths- three of them.  He clearly finds our heroes’ efforts lacking, especially given that they are responsible for the release of the inmates in the first place.  

Nonetheless, our heroes take the opportunity to rest for a few days.  

_*Next Time:*_ What was that about a mass murderer?


----------



## the Jester

_*8/12/369 O.L.G., 4 p.m., Grey Terrace*_

The community that our heroes have come to is a small, mostly dwarven town situated on the edge of the Stern Mountains.  Here the hills rise up suddenly and dramatically; our heroes recall from their earlier journey through the mountains that some catastrophic geology must have been at work, for the features of the mountain are often sheer and jagged beyond belief.  

Lita, once again wearing her noblewoman’s dress and jewelry, easily talks the group’s way past the community’s guards.  Our heroes explain that they are seeking escaped lunatics, and the scowling, unfriendly guards allow them in without any trouble.  

Grey Terrace is an interesting town.  It spreads vertically, up a series of landscaped terraces in the hillside.  There are several levels, which one may pass between by a long set of stairs or via a clever elevator basket (for a silver piece).  Our heroes take the basket, and the ride is certainly less exertion than climbing the stairs would have been.  

On the second level of the town, our heroes approach a farmer and explain their quest.  His face grows dark and he snarls epithets at our heroes before turning his back on them.  

“They aren’t too friendly here,” comments Boddynock as the party heads back towards the stairs.  They’ve determined to go up to the top level and ask around there.  Perhaps the mood there is a little friendlier.

It starts to seem unlikely, after a few more people are questioned and prove evasive or hostile; many of them seem to expect the halflings to try to steal from them for some reason.  Finally, though, the group finds a dwarf with a little mellower attitude, and they explain their quest to him.

The dwarf- who introduces himself as Zendar- squints at the group for a moment, deep in thought.  Then, speaking carefully, he says, “Well, you know, lads, not everyone’s a big fan of that asylum.  There are even those that would say that a person locked up in there, well, might not deserve to be.  Maybe even some of those people are fine in the head, just- inconvenient to somebody.”

Our heroes look at each other uncomfortably.

“Now, I certainly don’t know of any escapees in town,” Zendar continues, “but if I did, and if that person didn’t belong in the asylum- why, I certainly don’t think I’d help him or her hide out, but I _also_ don’t think I’d help anyone look for him.  Can I offer ye lads a pipe?” he inquires politely, extending a bag of Old Tobey towards the group.

“Why, that’s fine halfling tobacco!” exclaims Lita.  

“Sure I’ll have a pipe with you!” Sandy cries.  The group puffs together for a few moments.

“So you see, lads, I don’t think you’re going to find anyone here in Grey Terrace.” Zendar blows a smoke ring.

“I understand,” Sandy says, passing the pipe to his left.  “But you have to understand our position as well.  We’ve had a serious fine levied on us- and for each of these escapees that we return, that fine is reduced by 200 gold imperials.”

“I see, I see,” Zendar muses.

“I suppose if we were to ‘find’ 200 gold imperials here, along with serious evidence- such as the word of a good man such as yourself, Zendar- we could leave and not come back and report this place as ‘clean.’”

Amazingly enough, shortly afterwards our heroes find 200 gold imperials, and taking Zendar’s word for things, they leave Grey Terrace behind, not to return.

***

_*6 p.m.*_

Just north of town along one of the trails, our heroes stop.  They have no remaining leads on the escapees as such, but while in Grey Terrace they heard that there was a murder recently somewhere north of town.  Now they decide to see if they can find it.  They set off, criss-crossing the hills, the Stern Mountains looming over them only a few miles away.

It’s just getting dark when Lita spots a sheet of webbing strung across the group’s path.  She stops abruptly, crying out a warning, and something scuttles forward.  Something... _wrong._  It’s like a spider, but with a fanged wolf’s head.  

Lita screams.

The wolf-spider shoots a stream of webbing from its thorax, and Boddynock gives a shout of dismay as he is splattered and webbed in place.  The sticky strands are all over him.  “Get me out of this!” he shouts, struggling helplessly.

Timothy cries, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” and steps in front of Boddynock, blocking the monster’s approach with his body.  And as it scuttles forward on its arachnid legs, Timothy makes a few jerky motions with his hands, calls out a few strange choked-sounding words, and sprays the monster with violently clashing color!  The thing gives out a wolf howl, shaking its head and standing, stunned and insensate.

Lita hurls a dart, which sinks deep into the thing’s throat.  It howls again, clearing its head, and springs at Boddynock, biting him.  The hapless gnome cries out in pain as the fangs pierce and poison him.  More clashing colors hit the wolf-spider, but fail to affect it this time.  Timothy follows up with a _magic missile_ and the wolf-spider howls in pain and rage, springing at him and savagely pulling him from his feet.  

Boddynock, meanwhile, finally manages to struggle free!  Gleefully, he casts a _magic missile_ of his own.  Timothy _color sprays_ the bizarre thing once again, scrambling away from it.  And Lita just keeps hitting it with darts.  As it is stunned again, she keeps it up, trying to catch it in the vitals as many times as possible.  “We’re wearing it down!” she cries, but then it shakes off the stunning again and snaps at Timothy, bringing him down!

“Uh-oh,” Boddynock groans, barely able to stand.  He’s using a tree for cover, but the creature is clearly faster than him...

But it’s also had about all it can take.  And to Boddynock’s and Lita’s dismay, it drags Timothy away, off the path, and through a camouflaged cave entrance not far away.

_*Next Time:*_ Can our heroes save Timothy??  He’s at -6 and dropping!


----------



## Droid101

Those whacky halflings....


----------



## Angcuru

I've just got to page two, and loving it.  Stuck it in my sig o' awesome story hours.


----------



## the Jester

Angcuru said:
			
		

> I've just got to page two, and loving it.  Stuck it in my sig o' awesome story hours.





Thanks!!


----------



## the Jester

*Down to the Wire Against the Wolf-Spider!*

The cave- really just a hole in the ground- is covered by a trap door of mixed stones, sticks, webbing and bones.  Our heroes rush to it, knowing that the seconds are ticking away.  Timothy is dying!  They have to rescue him- they have to at least try...!

With a gulp of fear, the group pulls the trap door open.  A dim tunnel, wide enough for two halflings abreast to have fighting room, descends at a steep angle into darkness.  Boddynock casts _dancing lights_ into the gloom and Boddynock and Lita hesitantly, carefully enter.*

The passage, full of loose earth and rocks, leads the two intrepid heroes to a chamber where they can see the wolf-spider wrapping their friend in webbing.  He’s sure to be a meal soon!  But the two are sneaking carefully, and it is distracted.

Lita hurls another dart with devastating accuracy.  It flies true, ending deep in the wolf head’s ear, and the monster howls in agony.  It fires a web at Lita and sticks her to the ground.  She gives a yell of dismay.

“I’m coming!” shouts Boddynock, almost out of spells, and moves up to try to help Lita throw off the web.  But the two halflings, even working together, cannot get the psion free quickly enough.  The wolf-spider drops Timothy’s half-cocooned body and starts scuttling forward at Lita, barking savagely.  She pulls out her crossbow and starts to load it-

Too slow!  The wolf-spider bites her, sinking spider-fangs from a wolf’s head into the poor hapless Lita.  She gives a strangled cry and collapses, as the monster’s poison does its deadly work.

“Oh crap,” groans Boddynock.

The wolf-spider scuttles forward towards him.  He fires his last spell- a _color spray_- but the wolf-spider keeps coming.  Shaking with fear, Boddynock pulls out his tiny, gnome-sized dagger.  He trembles as the monster skitters closer; this is it.  They’re all going to die, now.  Surely he can’t defeat this thing on his own, with just his dagger!  Boddynock groans.  

The thing springs at him, and Boddynock ducks under its slavering, venomous jaws and thrusts with his dagger.  The blade sinks to the hilt in the creature’s forebody, and it gives another loud yelp and staggers away a pace.  Still growling, the creature barks madly at the gnome, then advances again.  It attacks!

Boddynock screams as the venom sears him.  The thing is ripping him apart!  Its jaws latch on to his chest- gods, it’s going to bite him in half!- and tighten.  

Then, suddenly, it releases him!  With a cry, he drops to the floor.

It staggers for an instant, lets out a plaintive whine, and collapses, bleeding and dying.

Boddynock, unable to believe it, shaking and bloody and weakened from the poison, stares at it.  He slowly regains his feet.  He’s clutching his dagger in his sweaty fist so tightly that it will leave an impression for hours, and his hand will be sore for days.

But it doesn’t get back up. 

Slowly, Boddynock approaches it.  He walks gingerly towards its head.  Takes a deep breath- and slits the wolf-spider’s throat.  It never responds.  It was too badly wounded after his stab; the act of attacking him was such a strain that it defeated itself.**

Boddynock hurries to Lita.  She’s breathing, her eyes are even open, but she seems paralyzed.  She can’t move.  _It must be the poison,_ thinks Boddynock.  Then, mournfully, he moves to Timothy’s wrapped up body and cuts it free.

Wait... he’s _alive!_  Breathing shallowly, yes, but still alive!  Boddynock grins.  This isn’t so bad after all!  The he looks around and reconsiders.  Though it doesn’t look like there is anywhere else for more wolf-spiders to lurk, this is a very grim place to have to rest.  “Well, we need to hole up, but this is ridiculous,” he quips.  Then he grins.  There’s no choice, really; he certainly can’t carry his friends out of here.  

***

_*8/14/368 O.L.G., the wolf-spider’s cave*_

Two days of resting and recuperating are sufficient for the group to make a search of the wolf-spider’s nest.  Among the gruesome, desiccated remains they find about 200 gold pieces and a scroll with the spells _command, shield other _and _lesser vigor_ on it.  Then they head outside to find a better resting place.  None of them is fully healed; they are all, in fact, still barely alive, and weak from the poison.  Though recovering, they are far from recovered.  A little sunlight and fresh air helps a lot.  

***

_*8/19/368 O.L.G., 9 a.m. near the wolf-spider’s cave*_

At last they move on.  They are looking for the homestead where a recent murder occurred.  “I hope it wasn’t one of the inmates,” comments Boddynock.

Timothy says nothing.  

***

_*11 a.m.*_

When the little homestead comes into view, our heroes feel an instant of hesitation.  

Indeed they should.  Within the shack in front of them is victim #663 for a madman named Manson.

_*Next Time:*_ The scene of a terrible, terrible crime!  The return of the Sheriff!  



*They were the only conscious- though battered- pcs present.

**Yep, Boddynock’s stab had reduced it to 0 hp!


----------



## Brain

Indeed, that was a harrowing encounter.  Timothy would have been dead, except he stabilized on his own whilst being carried away.  All I could do was hope they would prevail, and it looked bad.


----------



## Angcuru

Y'know, I may be missing a big thingy here, but....what happened to Ed?


----------



## the Jester

Angcuru said:
			
		

> Y'know, I may be missing a big thingy here, but....what happened to Ed?




Ed was the victim of one of the most tragic things that can happen to a pc- her player lost her character sheet.  Between that and Ed's player missing several sessions in a row, you haven't yet met the new character of that player.

Ed gets 'written out' of the story eventually (when it was ascertained that her sheet was lost forever), but we aren't there quite yet.


----------



## threshel

Ed gone?  Victim of the most tragic of character "deaths"?

I am sad.  Ed was one of my favorite characters.

I am, however, looking forward to seeing who the replacement is...

Paradox, I am thy thrall.


J


----------



## Angcuru

Aww..... i liked Ed.


----------



## the Jester

*Posse*

There are flies buzzing as Boddynock slowly pushes the door to the hovel open.  A smell, like spoiled meat, wafts out to our heroes. 

”Hey Timothy, come look at this!” says Lita cheerfully.

Timidly, the autistic halfling peeks into the little building-

“AAAHHHH!!!”  Timothy stumbles backwards, falling onto the grass.  “No, no, no, no, no...”  Moaning, Timothy begins rocking back and forth.  

“What’d you do that for?” demands Boddynock.

Lita’s answer, accompanied by a shrug, is a blase, “Oh, I didn’t think he’d react so strongly.”

“What’s-“  Boddynock’s voice chokes off as he looks at the carnage within.

Silence, for a moment, broken only by the moaning of Timothy.  Then:

“Ugh,” Boddynock comments.

Within the shack is the murder victim that our heroes have been seeking- but this is terribly gruesome.  Blood is everywhere.  Whoever did this was shockingly brutal.  And worst of all, at the head of the bed, scrawled in blood, is the number *663.*

“Oh my god,” groans Sandy, “and if this-“ gesturing to encompass both Timothy and the mess inside the little dwelling- “wasn’t enough, look who’s coming.”

Indeed- what appears to be the worst possible timing, the Sheriff who arrested our heroes a few handfuls of days ago is riding towards the scene of the crime.  Where our heroes are presently standing around, looking guilty.  Fortunately for them, Sheriff Riley Barleybrew already knows who he’s looking for.  

“Manson,” he growls.  “But what are _you_ all doing here?”

Our heroes tell him about how they are tracking down the escaped inmates.  Manson, they are afraid, is one of them.  

”What’s with the number?” Sandy asks.

“That’s the number of victims he’s slain,” the Sheriff replies grimly.  

“That’s awful close to six hundred and sixty-six,” Boddynock comments.  

Sheriff Barleybrew grunts.  “We should try to keep him from reaching that total.  In fact, I don’t want another man to die because of him if we can help it.”  He looks pensive for a moment, as if debating something with himself, and then seems to reach a decision.

And he declares, “This has gotten out of hand.  A mass murderer is killing again, and he has to be stopped.  I’m deputizing all of you.  Congratulations- you’re now my posse.”

_*Next Time:*_ In pursuit of Manson!


----------



## Angcuru

Posse time!  WHEEEE!!!


----------



## the Jester

*Mass Murderer*

_*8/19/368 O.L.G., 7 p.m., approaching a small village*_

Sheriff Riley Barleybrew has rarely looked so grim.  He kneels on the path, his sharp eyes picking the tracks of the mass murderer known as Manson out from the signs of animals and peasants passing.  “He’s headed for the village,” the Sheriff says, his voice touched by despair.

“What _is_ with the number?” Boddynock presses the Sheriff.  At the last murder site, scrawled in blood on the wall of the hovel, was the number six hundred and sixty three, which Sheriff Barleybrew revealed to be Manson’s tally of victims.  Now the Sheriff sighs and just shakes his head.

“Let’s just say we want to prevent any more victims from dying, okay?  Especially three more victims.”

The posse mounts up on their riding dogs and quickens their pace towards the little village ahead of them.

***

*9 p.m, at the village of Wheat Creek*

“It’s too dark,” grumbles Riley.  “I can’t follow his tracks like this.”

“We’ve been riding for hours,” Lita complains.  “We should rest for the night.”  She sighs and makes eyes at the Sheriff.  “And I could really use a nice massage...”

The party moves to the village’s inn.  They secure rooms (paid for by the Sheriff) and dinner- late, but better late than never, and they eat enough to help them all recuperate from the shock of the murder scene.  Even Timothy seems less withdrawn and- well, frankly, a little _better._  Perhaps accompanying the group will help him overcome his mental... condition.

When the party goes to bed, Lita and Sheriff Riley Barleybrew go together.

***

_*9 a.m.*_

Without even waiting for second breakfast (_Wow, this is drastic,_ thinks Sandy) the group moves back to where they lost the trail, on the hills just outside of the community.  From there they have a good view of the layout of the village- small, mostly farmers, with fields of grain snaking along after a small river that runs through it.  A modest bridge slightly upstream of the middle of the village crosses over the large creek.  There are a good number of trees scattered throughout the parts of the village without farms.  The group can see the inn, a church of Bleak, a general store and about a dozen houses from their present position; it’s clear that a few more homes are hidden by the trees, but the place can’t have more than 100 souls or so living within it.  

“He won’t have much of anywhere to hide, but there won’t be much of anyone to stop him,” murmurs Sandy.

“Except us,” Boddynock remarks.

Soon the trail leads the group to the edge of the creek.  Following it upstream, they reach the first edges of the village, crossing a few fields of wheat.  

”Look,” the Sheriff points.  Ahead of them is a ruined ramshackle building, a shack really, constructed of wooden planks on a stilted platform above the creek.  A wooden walkway leads out to it.  It looks abandoned, but it is certainly big enough for someone to hide within, and a boat is moored underneath it.

The weapons come out.  Our heroes, led by the Sheriff, advance on the shack.  When he reaches the door, Sheriff Barleybrew pushes it open and peers within.  Sunlight filters in through the warped boards of the walls and ceiling, and the party steps inside.  

Slowly they move through the barred sunlight, moving from room to room in the old building.  They find a room with a horrific altar in it; but they move on, saving it for later.  Lives could be at stake right now.  

”I heard something,” whispers Lita, pointing down a hall, and the group advances on tenterhooks.  

Then, as they round a corner, they find their quarry, standing in a filthy room with a few rotten sacks of grain in one corner near an open trap door in the floor.  Manson- the party recognizes him from the Asylum.  He was one of the quieter ones there.  He made little fuss as he was being released, though he didn’t answer Jawbreaker as he asked each of the inmates their name.  Manson, mass murderer.  He’s a dirty human, of middling height, indeterminate age, dark hair and frowning countenance.  And as he comes into view- with some sort of slavering, stinking _thing_ beside him- Lita delivers a present to him with an underhanded throw: a flask of alchemist’s fire.  Suddenly Manson is in flames and screaming in pain.

The other creature, the thing beside him, leaps forward as the Sheriff charges at Manson and deals a deadly blow to him with his longsword.  Blood splatters and the murderer reels.  He tries to cast a spell, but the flames on him cause him too much pain!  With a groan he throws himself out the trap door, a maneuver resulting in a splash!  But his companion snarls and strikes, opening its mouth to reveal sharp, deadly fangs.  Its filthy hands show themselves to have formidable claws as well; and the stink of the grave hits the group as its slavering bite latches onto the Sheriff’s right shoulder.  With a cry, Riley draws back and smites the creature even as both Boddynock and Timothy hit it with _disrupt undead_ cantrips.  The creature squeals as big chunks of its flesh blast into ash.  It strikes at the Sheriff again, more weakly, but misses.  Our heroes press the attack, and finally they destroy the ghoul; and then Sheriff Riley Barleybrew rushes to the trap door and sticks his head out it.  And he gives a long, loud curse.

“He’s getting away!  He’s in the boat!”  

He leaps to his feet.  

“Quickly!!”  And he rushes outside the house.

_*Next Time:*_ Can our heroes stop Manson?  Plus: the return of Jawbreaker!!


----------



## hippiejedissj5

the fight against the wolf-spider was super intense. in the end lita's str was at 0, and tim stabilized at -9. boddynock was at 1 hp, and 1 str. when the spider attacked at 0 hp. one of the closest down to the wire fights i have had.


----------



## hippiejedissj5

boddynock's full name is; Boddynock Poppycock Beren Oneshoe the III


----------



## the Jester

*Manson (finale)*

_*9:15 a.m., along the edges of Wheat Creek, near the village of the same name*_

Jawbreaker sighs contentedly and picks at his teeth.  With a grunt he pokes his small fire with a stick.  The remains of his breakfast- a hare, and a delicious one at that- lie at the edge of the coals.  With a grunt, he rises and turns, stretching in the morning light.  Looks like a nice day.  Grinning to himself, he tromps up the little ridge that shields him from view from the town.  He’ll wander over it and down to the river to wash the grease from his fingers- what he can’t suck off of them, anyhow- and-

He stops, eyes goggling.  

Is that one of his friends, sprinting along the far bank of the creek?  

Jawbreaker squints.  Yep, looks like it’s that silly lass, Lita.  And who is she chasing?  She keeps looking at the creek... His gaze wanders over the waters.  Hmm, someone in a boat.  

Jawbreaker guffaws to himself.  All right!  Time for some action!

He runs down the ridge at an acute angle, hoping to cut off the human in the boat, and leaps out across the water, his prodigious leg muscles propelling him like a javelin.  Unfortunately, a blackberry vine snatches his legging, throwing him off course, and with a yell he lands in the water, not really anywhere near the boat.  Spluttering, he swims towards shore after only a momentary attempt at pursuit.  Lita looks like she’s out of wind, and she’s giving up too.  Jawbreaker pulls himself up on the bank on the creek and shakes himself.  Water streams from his beard.  

“Jawbreaker?” exclaims Lita.

“Hi,” he grunts, and bellows laughter.

“We’ve got to stop Manson!” she cries, and his laughter stops abruptly.  

_Manson._

He remembers that name.  That was the one name he was listening for that night in the Asylum- the one he wouldn’t have let out.  He spins, his gaze taking in the figure in the receding boat.  “That him?” he grunts, fists clenching and unclenching.

“Yes,” Lita says, “but don’t worry- he won’t get away!  The Sheriff’s commandeering a boat!”

“Sheriff?!” exclaims Jawbreaker.  That’s one bit of news he did _not_ need.  He glances at the approaching rowboat.  Damn it- it’s the same guy who tried to take him in before.  He glares at him, and the Sheriff, surprised to see him, glares back.

With a stern look, Sheriff Barleybrew declares, “We can settle our affairs later.  Right now I have more important things to deal with.  Come on, Lita!”

“He can help,” she insists, gesturing at Jawbreaker. 

”Whatever.  But hurry!” 

The two halflings join their friends on the boat.

***

The group follows in their boat, trying to catch up but not really making any progress.  Then, rounding a bend in the creek that obscures their vision of their target, they find that his boat has been abandoned.  Sheriff Riley rapidly finds the murderer’s trail, and it leads to a medium-sized, apparently abandoned house.  Weapons bared, our heroes advance. 

The interior of the house looks to be fairly spacious, but as our heroes start to open the door something bursts from the packed earth directly before the entry- some sort of freakish-looking insectoid.  Our heroes cry out in surprise and dismay as it bursts forward, grappling Naomi in its mandibles!

Sandy rushes forward with his small longspear, thrusting at the monster, but he rebounds off of its formidable carapace.  Shaking his head, he moves back towards it.  Arrows sink into it from the Sheriff as Naomi screams while she tries to hammer it with a _mind thrust_.  She fails; perhaps it is the pain, or perhaps the monster is immune to her powers. 

Jawbreaker maneuvers to a position from which he can strike at the creature, which- due to the presence of his friends around the monster- takes him within the house.  Unfortunately, a shadowed corner of the room suddenly gives birth to Manson, whose dagger seems to have materialized in Jawbreaker’s kidney.  The barbarian screams in agony as the wicked human grinds his steel into the halfling’s body, and then he goes into a terrible scarlet rage.  His axe whistles as he swings at Manson, and the mass murderer sprays blood across the room, stumbling and crying out.  But he takes up a wavering fighting stance and suddenly his dagger is in the barbarian’s belly, and Jawbreaker backs off, knowing he can’t take another blow like that.  He staggers back out of the house, leaving blood everywhere.

Manson laughs maniacally, but he’s weak on his feet.  Jawbreaker’s blow dealt him tremendous damage.  He glances at the insectoid creature battling the others.  It has dropped Naomi and moved onto the Sheriff, and Riley is now bleeding from several vicious wounds.  He’s barely standing.  Federico’s dog Ethel rushes in, barking and savaging the bug, while Federico himself hangs back and japes and jabbers, inspiring our heroes.  

Sheriff Riley stumbles a few paces back from the bug, desperately _laying hands_ on himself.  Naomi, dragging herself up from where the creature dropped her, again feels her _mind thrust_ fail to deal any damage, and she starts cursing quite inventively.  If only the party knew the half of the insults she could hurl, the cruel jokes of her folk!  What might they think of the tubby little psionic girl then?

In any event, Manson hurls some sort of magic at Federico, but the shivering little kobold resists the effects.  “I have a strong will,” he moans fearfully yet somehow gloatingly to Manson.  The murderer snarls at him.

Lita tumbles in on the side of the bug, flanking it with Ethel, and swiftly she runs it through.  It shudders and stops moving.

Jawbreaker, outside the house, quickly quaffs a potion.  Then, with a bellow, a few of his wounds healed, he charges forward, barreling into Manson with the business end of his axe!  Manson shouts in pain, then stabs Jawbreaker directly in the face. 

Freeze frame for a moment and look at the irony, as Manson’s dagger strikes hard on Jawbreaker’s chin, and- yes, you guessed it- breaks his jaw.

The barbarian falls, unconscious.*

“Oh crap!” cries Sandy, as Manson’s wicked dagger draws a line of red across his face.  “Aggh!  Back off, dammit!”  He staggers away, bleeding profusely.  

Then a greenish, smoking arrow hits Manson.  Acid bubbles into his skin, and he shrieks in pain.  Boddynock, illusionary _mirror images_ flickering around him, glares at the killer.  “You won’t get away!” he cries.

Indeed not, for- weakened by the axe blows from Jawbreaker, burning from the acid- Manson cannot resist Lita’s _psionic charm._  “You should surrender,” she tells him gently.  “It’s the only way to save yourself.” 

And though he hesitates for a moment, Manson gives himself up to the law.

***

_*11 a.m.*_

Jawbreaker’s eyes snap open.  Federico is crouched over him, his little tail whipping back and forth.  “Are you all right?” the kobold cries.  

Jawbreaker tries to talk, but it doesn’t work very well.  It just hurts.

***

_*1 p.m.*_

After lunch the Sheriff thanks our heroes and tells them he’ll meet them in a week’s time with a reward in Wheat Creek.  Then he leaves, taking a manacled Manson with him.  The party watches him go and debates for quite some time whether to go after him, but the majority doesn’t really see any benefit.  “We can’t catch up,” points out Boddynock.

“Well, _I’m_ going,” she huffs, and Naomi goes with her.  

“Oh great,” Sandy says snarkily, “the fine chick and the fat chick.  Whatever, he’ll be back here in a week.  You’ll never catch him, besides- he has mounts for both of them and you’re doubled up.”  Glancing at the chubby Naomi, he adds, “Almost tripled.”

“I can’t help it if I like to stay healthy,” Naomi calls from a dozen yards away.

“We’ll ride hard,” Lita retorts, and the girls depart. 

“I guess we should follow them,” comments Sandy.  “We don’t want them to get in trouble.”  

“We’ll never catch them, any more than they’ll catch the Sheriff,” says Federico ironically.  “So it’ll be like a big wagon train of spread-out halflings.  Except without the wagons.”  He scratches Ethel under the chin.  “Just dogs.”

_*8/21/370 O.L.G., 7 p.m., on the road west of Wheat Creek*_

Naomi and Lita, having ridden her dog to death, proceed to cook and eat it.  They get a lot of good girl time in together, talking a lot, and Lita’s flighty personality is easily swayed.  Normally morally neutral rather than good or evil, Lita is starting to really enjoy the company of Naomi; she’s refreshing and thought provoking.

“I mean, really,” Naomi tells her at one point, “what’s wrong with eating human?  I personally can assure you, it’s delicious.  Confidentially, I feel that if any of the humans we run across die, we should eat ‘em.  Maybe help them along.  It’s kind of the same thing as hunting a pig, really- a little dangerous, but mmm! –delicious.”

***

Several days pass, with the group split up.  Finally, the main contingent connects with the girls again.  Together, they all head west, following the presumed direction the Sheriff took.  Along the way they fight some strange creatures, almost like a cross between insects and some sort of mechanical creature.  The battle is ruthless and hard; when all is said and done, our heroes are bruised and bloodied but victorious.  Unfortunately, the bug-things don’t look like very good eating.

Then they come to the crossroads.

_*Next Time:*_ The crossroads!  Hilarity ensues!


*At this point, even if stabilized, Jawbreaker was as good as dead once his rage wore off.


----------



## Brain

Ah yes, the crossroads!  I can't wait to read your telling of it.


----------



## SeldomSeen

Haha! YES.  The crossroads.  Truly a defining moment in the Halfling game.  Filled with confusion, eating, indecision, and more eating.


----------



## Brain

*character thread link*

I made a thread  for the posting of characters from Cydra if anybody wants to look at them or post their own Cydra character there.


----------



## hippiejedissj5

halflings; **** yeah
crossroads; **** yeah


----------



## Angcuru

Crossroads?


----------



## rln

Heh, in the beginning I was almost certain that Naomi would turn out to be Manson in disguise.


----------



## Brain

rln said:
			
		

> Heh, in the beginning I was almost certain that Naomi would turn out to be Manson in disguise.




That's an interesting one.  Maybe she is...


----------



## the Jester

rln said:
			
		

> Heh, in the beginning I was almost certain that Naomi would turn out to be Manson in disguise.




Let's just say that there are as-yet unexplored connections between Manson and the party, hmmm?


----------



## Brain

*bump* I'm eagerly awaiting the crossroads story


----------



## Angcuru

*imagines Manson wearing Darth Vader helmet staring at Thelonius*


----------



## the Jester

*The Crossroads*

_*8/23/368 O.L.G., the road west of Wheat Creek*_

Our heroes are following the winding path west, towards- hopefully- the Sheriff.  Why they are pursuing him, I’m not entirely certain, nor (I think) were they.  But Lita, hoping to improve her burgeoning relationship with him, had already ridden her dog to death, and she was mule-set on following him.  So that’s what our heroes were doing.

But now a crimp has settled in their plans, for they have happened upon a crossroads.

West is the direction they’ve been headed, and west they can continue; but another track leads away to the south.  “The Asylum is more west,” Sandy says doubtfully.  “I don’t know... which path would they have taken?”  Jawbreaker looks for signs of passage, but his lore is in other areas, and he shrugs.

“Maybe we should scout it out,” suggests Federico, and Sandy and Jawbreaker head to the west while the others wait.  They return about an hour later, and inform the rest of the group that the road to the west seems to drop into the Buzzing Fens.  Why would a road go in there?  And is that where Sheriff Barleybrew would have taken Manson?

“Summary justice,” moans Federico.  “Or a secret prison.”  His tail is tucked firmly between his legs.

The party gazes down the south path.  It heads into the hills.  “Oh, hills are dangerous,” the dog whines.  “We’ve fought all kinds of nasty hill and mountain monsters- there are those bird-garen things that want to eat us, and the big spiders...”  Federico shudders.

A most confusing discussion ensues, with some party members adamant about heading one way or the other, some suggesting they just return to Wheat Creek to wait for the Sheriff to return (with their reward for capturing Manson, no less!), and some suggesting they just wait at the crossroads.  The only decision they can make is elevensies, provoked by Sandy (who got bored and went wandering), who cries out, “Hey you guys- I found something _good_ over here!”

Three eggs, almost the size of a halfling each, in a large bird’s nest.  Two of them are secreted away and the other is tapped, then cooked up.  Soon the giant eagle egg omelet is served.  As they munch on it, Federico sighs happily, “We should just camp _here!_”

“No, I want to find the Sheriff,” Lita insists.

“We don’t even know where he is,” Boddynock reminds her.  “He could have gone done either path.”  And the debate begins again.  The group argues all day, and finally, about a half hour before dark, they agree to at least go check out the south path.  They move down it briefly, but the sun sets and they are forced to make camp almost immediately.

While they’re setting up camp, Lita hears a great bird crying out in the distance: _Scree!... scree!_  She points it out to the group.  Unsettled, Naomi says, “We should flee!”

“No way,” argues Boddynock.  “How would the bird know we took its eggs?  It could be anything!  There are orcs and goblins and stuff in these hills, right?  It could have been them!”

“As long as we keep the other eggs under cover I think we’re cool,” Naomi says.  Grinning, she adds, “And the evidence will be gone tomorrow.”

“Shh!” urges Sandy.  “We don’t know how well it can hear!”

“Wait, why should the bird be mad at us?” Timothy asks ponderously. 

“It shouldn’t be,” Sandy answers.  

“Oh,” Timothy says.

***

_*8/24/368, 9 a.m., just south of the Crossroads*_

Our heroes have breakfast and get moving.  They are mindful of the great raptor they heard last night, and especially with Naomi’s near-panicked goading (“We should _flee_ before the bird eats us!  _Scree!!  Scree!!_”), the party gets moving south, away from the crossroads.  The path is visible, but fairly overgrown.  It is clear that whatever traffic flows up and down it is not too regular, but neither is it so rare that the path is lost to nature.  

Suddenly Lita catches sight of something in the foliage.  She cries a warning, but too late for her friends to react; suddenly a pair of javelins flies from the shrubbery, hitting Naomi in the arm and leg!  She cries out in pain and starts to stagger back as two yellow-skinned orcs stagger forth, clutching axes.  

The party moves into action as Boddynock leaps behind Timothy.  The autistic kid cries out, “I’ll protect you, Boddynock!”  He drops his torch and dagger and casts _shield_.  Then he picks up his dagger and torch from the ground.  

Meanwhile a rain of missile fire has ensued from the halflings, pelting the orcs and dropping both of them.  There is a moment more of tension before the group ascertains that they are both dead.

Then they realize that something very weird is going on with the orcs.  For one thing, they’re yellow- the yellow of a lemon.  Very strange coloration for orcs.  For another thing, there seem to be plants growing on them. 

From them.

“These,” grunts Jawbreaker, “are yellow musk zombies.”

“What’s a yellow musk zombie?” asks Lita.

“Yellow musk plant is plant that will plant seed in your head.  Eat your mind.  When it sprout, you die, become zombie under its control.”  The barbarian smiles.

“Let’s go back,” the kobold begs.  “Back to the crossroads.”

“Yeah, let’s go get paid,” agrees Sandy.  “What are we doing out here anyway?”

“Good point,” agrees Naomi.

“If we just wait at the crossroads, the Sheriff will come back eventually, right?” suggests Boddynock, not for the first time.

Arguing amongst themselves, our heroes return to the crossroads.  Once there, they turn to the east and head back towards Wheat Creek to await the Sheriff.  As night falls, they cook up the other two eggs under the best cover they can find.  They’re more than a little nervous about the giant bird coming to try to eat them, but an egg that big won’t keep, as Mama used to say.  

They rest well, full of giant eagle egg, and travel for another day and a half before they see the Sheriff coming up behind them.  So they turn around and head west again until they meet up with him.  Lita embraces him and he gives her a rough kiss.  

“Thank you for your help,” he says without preamble.  “I’ve got your rewards, here, beginning with the gratitude of myself and the authorities in this area.  Your assistance is recognized and appreciated.”  He hesitates a moment, then goes on, “I have for each of you a medal.  I know, I was surprised too; but that’s the way of it.  Also a letter of credit to the tune of 2500 gold pieces and a gem.”  He starts distributing these things to our heroes.  The gems are small black stones, cut into an emerald cut.  “The gem can be turned in for a favor at the larger temples of Bleak.”

The party murmurs and oohs and ahs over their new acquisitions for a few minutes, and Sheriff Riley Barleybrew spends a few minutes talking to them, especially Lita.  Then he mounts his shaggy riding dog and bids them farewell.

“But what about _us?_” implores Lita.  It is plain that she does not mean the party.

“I’m sorry, baby,” the Sheriff says, and perhaps there’s the merest hint of the glimmer of a tear in the corner of his eye, “but I travel a hard road.”

“But-“

He shakes his head.  “I’m sorry,” he repeats, “but my path leads me to places you cannot come, and duty must come first.”  Regretfully, he tips his hat, and then he turns his dog away and urges it to a loping run.  Lita watches the Sheriff recede down the path.

“Let’s go back to the crossroads,” suggests Boddynock.

Lita bursts into tears.

_*Next Time:*_ Now what do our heroes do?


----------



## the Jester

Quick recap on the party's current roster... expect a new party member in the next several updates sometime!

Naomi-- halfling psion 2; seems to be eager to eat humans
Boddynock-- gnome illusionist 3; CG
Phynal "Sandy" Sandybanks-- halfling rogue 3/fighter 1; LE
Jawbreaker-- wild halfling barbarian 2; CG
Lita Alexander-- halfling psion 2/rogue 1; CN
Federico-- kobold bard 3/sorcerer 1; CG; referred to as the clan's dog frequently
Timothy-- autistic halfling sorcerer 3; CG
Martini-- halfling ranger 1/fighter 1; CG

And I almost left out Ethel, Federico's riding dog!

Expect an update in the next half hour.


----------



## Droid101

Poor Lita.

Those crazy halflings never stop.


----------



## the Jester

*What Now?*

_*8/24/368 O.L.G., along the road to the Buzzing Fens*_

West to the Fens, then- though hopefully not _into_ them- to find out just where the Sheriff took Manson.

“Maybe he was summarily executed,” Federico speculates, shivering like a small dog, his tail tucked between his legs.

“The Sheriff is too goody two-shoes for that,” Naomi complains.  “He probably just locked him up somewhere.”

“Yeah, somewhere he’ll escape from again,” Lita adds, failing to note that our heroes were the ones to ‘escape’ him before.  

The path winds along through the foothills.  Just north, the hills rise into the Stern Mountains, which some of our heroes have traversed before; this was neither easy nor fun.  “Let’s not climb again,” whines the kobold.  

“We’ll try to avoid it, dog,” Sandy reassures him, fondly scratching Feddie behind the ears.

As the group passes a grassy depression, they spot movement, and hoping it will be something tasty, Lita approaches.  Unfortunately, it proves to be the trap door of a large trap door spider.  A short battle ensues, with _magic missiles_ zinging out from Timothy and missiles flying from the others’ weapons.  Ethel, Federico’s riding dog, manages to slay the beast as Naomi’s psychic attacks slough uselessly off of the mindless monstrosity.  

_I don’t like bugs,_ she thinks afterward.  

***

The path leads directly into the Buzzing Fens.  Our heroes stop there, unwilling to take the chance of contracting the Buzzing Bowels again.*

So they return to the crossroads.

“What do we do now?” asks Boddynock.

“Yay!  This is fun,” Timothy exclaims.  “We never got to go for such long walks at the place.”

“I think we should leave Strogass,” suggests Federico.  “This place sucks.  Everyone’s mean, and there’s too much climbing.  We should go somewhere else.”

“But where?” asks Lita.

That’s a stumper, of course, as nobody knows anything about what’s outside of Strogass, but our halflings have never been stymied by little things like not knowing where they’re going!  This possible course of action gives rise to an animated discussion; they may have trouble trying to leave, as they have not paid their fines to the courts yet, but then again, there seems to have been a fairly general breakdown of authority in the Empire... In the end, they decide to take their chances.

Unfortunately, the choice is then between the mountains and the swamp.  “If we skirt the edge, where the mountains are lowest, we’ll probably have our best results,” suggests Martini.  Thus the group moves north, hoping to find their way to a port city and thence another isle or continent entirely.

As they move along the flank of the swamp, they are constantly assailed by insects and the stink of the marsh gasses; and once about a half dozen fat black flies almost six feet long buzz out of the mists in the fen and attack them.  The filthy monsters are dispatched fairly easily, but not until they have bitten Lita, Naomi and Timothy.  Nonetheless, our heroes move on until they are away from the swamp, and set up camp to rest.  

“Another thing about this place,” complains Lita.  “A lot of the stuff we fight, we can’t eat.”

***

_*8/30/368 O.L.G., 11:50 p.m., in the Stern Mountains*_

Both Lita and Naomi wake up.

Something’s out there, making noise.  Snuffling and shuffling about.  

The girls struggle out of their bedding, nudging Boddynock and Federico to wake them, and in only a few seconds everyone’s awake, wide-eyed and quiet.  

_”Hooooo,”_ something calls from the dark.  _”Hoooooo.”_

_That’s the call of an owlbear,_ thinks Federico.  He starts to shiver, and Ethel woofs softly and begins growling.  Suddenly it’s crashing forward from out of the night!  Frantically, Federico wards Ethel with a _mage armor,_ and then the dog leaps to meet the monster!

“Ethel!” screams Timothy.

The owlbear’s claws slam into the dog, who yelps and goes still.  The monster grips Ethel tightly, then starts to retreat with her. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” cries Timothy, casting an _acid splash_ at the beast.  The others burst into action as well.  This monster feels the bite of Namoi’s mind powers, and when Martini swings his little greatsword at it, he knows just where to strike.  Boddynock hits it with a _Melf’s acid arrow,_ and screaming in terrible pain the monster starts to flee into the night with Ethel.

“NOOOO!” cries Federico.  Arms quivering with strain, the scrawny little kobold raises his crossbow and fires a quarrel into the owlbear’s retreating back.  The creature  shrieks one last time, stumbles and falls.  Ethel is rescued!  Still breathing, though badly wounded, Federico’s faithful companion remains with the group another day. 

“I wonder...” muses Naomi.

“What?” asks Boddynock.

“D’you think it has eggs somewhere?”


_*Next Time:*_ A ruined city in the mountains of Strogass!  Well, _that_ couldn’t possibly be interesting....


*A terrible disease that gripped several of our heroes when they traversed the swamp before.  We’ll see it again soon.


----------



## the Jester

_*9/1/368 O.L.G., in the Stern Mountains, Strogass*_

Our heroes spend the day resting and hunting for owlbear eggs.  To their disappointment, they do not find any; but certainly it’s a worthy cause.  Over the course of the day they discuss what they’re doing and reaffirm their desire to leave Strogass.  

No eggs, eh?  Well, they can certainly cook up the beast itself!  Whistling, Martini guts it, skins it and cooks up great sizzling slabs of it.  Though it’s gamey and tough, the meat is fairly flavorful, and our heroes spend some time discussing what herbs and spices it would require to make owlbear worthy of a feast.  Throughout the day Martini smokes the remaining owlbear meat.

They party rests another night in the same location, eating more owlbear in the evening (spiced up with wild onions this time- a definite improvement, but it makes several of them think of poor old Mama Flapjacks).  The next day they continue their trek into the incredible Stern Mountains.  Though the going is hard and they slip and slide down the scree from time to time, by early afternoon they come upon what is unmistakably an old track, overgrown by weeds.  Excitedly, Martini points out the signs that it once saw a lot of traffic- but not for decades.

Naturally curious, the halflings follow the trail up the mountain.  As evening settles in the group makes camp on the shoulder, but Naomi spots something ahead and below, in the general direction the track is headed: a faint green glow.

***

_*9/3/368 O.L.G., 8 a.m., on the trail*_

Boddynock wakes up feeling terrible.  Nauseous... he drags himself out of his bedroll and stumbles behind a nearby collection of bushes to relieve himself.  Federico, on watch, glances at him as he moves away, then scans their surroundings again, sniffing the air.  

Suddenly, from behind the bushes, there’s a strangely familiar flapping, buzzing sound.

“Oh no,” Federico calls out, “you caught the buzzing bowels!”*

Martini strides back to camp: he’s already been out for a look around in the light of dawn.  “There’s a ruin,” he announces.

“Oh boy!  Like a building, or a ruined temple?” Federico asks excitedly.

“No- a ruined _city._”

***

_*11 a.m., the ruined city*_

The ruins show the signs of having once housed a small folk, about halfling sized, and if the remaining artifacts are any evidence, basically humanoid.  Most of the buildings have fallen into disrepair and many have even collapsed.  Near the center is a large ziggurat, climbing several stories high.  

After considerable animated debate about the virtues of cowardice (though usually phrased ‘prudent’ or ‘cautious’ or ‘careful’), Lita and Naomi move together towards the stepped pyramid.  (It is at this very moment that the pair of them are christened ‘the fine girl and the fat girl’ by several other members of the party.)  The two of them have been building a fast friendship over the last few weeks.

They ascend the ziggurat without mishap, so everyone else follows them up to the top, where there is a strange slab of stone blocking what appears to be an entrance.  Before it, in the ground, is a hole.  Some examination indicates no sign of traps, but the hole does seem to be connected to some sort of mechanism.  After some thorough examination, the party concludes that something needs to be inserted into the hole.

“We need some kind of key,” Federico announces.

The party searches around for quite some time, especially in the ruins of a nearby temple.  They soon uncover a secret trap door and descend a ladder to a fairly small chamber, about 15’ square, bisected by a wall.  On the far side, the sharp-eyed ranger catches sight of movement and hears the sloshing of water.

“Watch out,” he calls to the others.  “I think we’ve got a water monster.”

The group moves into the room and watches the wall for a moment.  Being halflings, they are too short to see over it; but they can hear movement.  Lita whispers, “I’m going to look,” and before anyone can stop her she scampers up to the wall and then climbs up on top.

“I don’t see anything,” she says after a moment.  Near the wall is a barrel, with a ladle; curious, she hops down and opens it.  “Blood,” she says in surprise, her nose wrinkling.  She glances at the ladle, glances at the wall, and visibly has an idea.  She scampers back up the wall and reaches out to grab the ladle.

“Maybe that’s not a good idea,” Timothy says as Boddynock rejoins the group, more than a little green in the face.

But Lita’s not really listening to Timothy.  He’s crazy anyway, right?  She dumps the blood in the pool.

Almost immediately, a terrible creature stands up before her, hissing.  It’s some horrible undead creature, with long jagged nails and broken, sharp teeth.  Its limp hair dangles in front of its face.  Its tongue is black and swollen and cracked.  

“Gross,” Timothy comments.  He’s very nervous.

“I think it’s friendly!” Lita says excitedly, and then a sickly grey claw swipes out at her.  She gives a cry of fear, pinwheels her arms, and jumps back off the wall.  Martini draws steel and moves up next to the creature.  A single solid blow slices its arm off and it falls back dead with a hiss and a splash.  But Martini cries, “There are more of them!” and stands ready.  

Lita gleefully springs back to the ladle.  

“No!” cries Timothy, but he’s too late.  She flings more blood into the water, and three more of the undead rise from the water.  Suddenly the room is all crossbow bolts and swords; Boddynock’s _magic missiles_ streak into the creatures.  Claws and snarling yellow teeth lash out; and in less than thirty seconds it’s over, with the monsters defeated.  

“We should search the water!” Lita suggests cheerfully.

“What, while you ladle more blood in?” Martini snaps.  She smiles at him.

“No, no more blood,” moans Timothy.

“Well, maybe they had treasure,” offers Federico.  

“Fine, _I’ll_ search,” Lita huffs.

A good cold wet half hour later, the group has found some coin, an ankh-shaped item that just might be the key they need, and a helmet.

“A helmet!” exclaims Martini.  “Does it look good on me?”  And he slips it over his head.  

“Hey, that’s party treasure,” says Naomi.

“No, it’s mine,” Martini says.

“Uh...”

“It’s my pick.”

Suddenly Lita plucks it off of the ranger’s head.  Without an instant’s hesitation, Martini whirls on her, whips out his greatsword, and buries it in her face.


_*Next Time:*_ Whoa!  What just happened there??  (I’ll bet any veteran dnd player can figure it out pretty easily, actually...)  More important, _what happens now??_  Not telling, you’ll see.


*The buzzing bowels is a terrible intestinal disease.  The pcs were exposed in their fight with the flies (barely mentioned above )  Boddynock was the only one to catch it, however.


----------



## the Jester

Whoops!  I'm working on the next update, and I realized I mixed a few things up on the last post- fixed it, but I thought I'd let everyone know. 

Expect an update later today.


----------



## the Jester

*Into the Ziggurat of Doom*

A wave of blood splashes across the stones as Lita falls limply to the ground.  A sickening suck-pop sound accompanies Martini’s greatsword as he pulls it free from her face.  

“NOOOOO!!!” screams Federico, rushing forward to see if Lita yet lives.  

_”You don’t hit my sister in the face!”_ shrieks Naomi, and a _mind thrust_ bursts into Martini’s head like a white-hot needle.  He grimaces, snarls, and picks up the helmet and pops it back on his head. 

“It’s _mine,_” he insists dangerously, and wipes off his sword as he stalks away to the other side of the chamber.

“She’s alive,” whimpers the kobold, casting one of his minor healing spells upon Lita.  She groans and twitches.  Her face throbs in agony; her cheek bones are shattered.  She groans again.

”Stupid halflings,” groans Boddynock; then he staggers to the corner of the room, caught in the grips of the buzzing bowels again.  

***

_*1 p.m.*_

The halflings make peace.  Everyone is shocked by Martini’s strange behavior, but he waves their concern away.  “I’m fine, better than ever,” he insists brusquely.  “Now let’s get organized.”

Now that the group has something to try at the top of the ziggurat, they advance again to the top of the pyramid.  The inverted ankh is indeed the key they need, and the stone slab blocking entrance at the top level of the pyramid sinks away with a grinding sound as the ankh is inserted into the hole before the slab.

Cautiously, Martini leads the way.  

Beyond the slab is a dim room, illuminated only by the sunlight entering through the opening that our heroes have just revealed.  Something within the room hisses, and Timothy steps forward, crying out, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!”  A comical battle with a tiny viper ensues, lasting a few moments as it strikes at the pot-bellied sorcerer and he defends himself and blocks the entrance.  Finally Martini manages to squeeze in past him and cuts the viper in two with a single blow. 

”Thanks, Martini,” Timothy says cheerfully.

“No problem, Tim,” Martini replies gruffly.  

The chamber at the top of the ziggurat is strewn with sand.  A few cobwebs cling to the corners, and bugs crawl in the shade.  A pole drops down from the ceiling, exiting through a hole in the floor.  “Hey, that looks like fun!” Timothy exclaims, and slides down the pole out of sight.

“Timmy, wait!” cries Federico.  “It could be dangerous!”  

His voice floats back up from below: “I’m all right... it’s neat down here!  Hey, what’s that?”

“Don’t touch anything!” Martini and Federico cry out together.

“Okay...”

In the back of the party, Boddynock groans and says, “I’ll catch up in a minute...”  He scampers outside for a moment, needing to deal with the symptoms of his illness.

The others slide down the pole after Timothy.  The chamber below is bigger than the one above, but not very large.  There are shelves along all the walls, painted with various bits of imagery.  After a few moments of investigation, it seems that the images, as a whole, tell the story of the city’s founding and rise.  There is no commemoration of whatever destroyed it, however.

“We haven’t even seen many bodies,” Boddynock remarks after rejoining the group. 

“How are we getting out of here?” wonders Federico.  “I can’t c-climb that.”*



Egress from the room seems to be in the form of a slide.  “Oh, yay!” Timothy exclaims.  “A slide!”  And he leaps on, followed by Boddynock.  The others can hear the halfling gleefully crying, “Wheeeee!!!”

But then suddenly, Timothy’s gleeful shout turns to a blood-curdling scream of pain as something goes terribly, terribly wrong.

_*Oh no!  Is Timmy okay??  What’s down there?  And what happens next??*_


*For god’s sake, whatever you do, don’t forget Federico’s strength score of 1.  This actually benefited him at one point, since he was immune to _ray of enfeeblement._


----------



## the Jester

At first, Timothy thinks the slide is going to be great fun.  It is steep enough that he’s moving very quickly, spiraling downwards.  When the huge, razor-sharp blade comes into view he only has time to gape; and then it’s cutting up into him, between his legs. 

***

For a long time he floats in blood-red darkness.  Finally, when Timothy comes around, he shifts his body slightly and screams in agony as the terrible jagged gash in his pelvis twists a drill of pain through him.

“Timothy!  It’s okay, you made it,” reassures Martini, grabbing him by the shoulders.  “Pull yourself together!”

The autistic sorcerer whimpers in pain.  

”Don’t worry, Timmy, we’re resting for a couple of days,” Boddynock says brightly.  Timothy moans, clutching himself. 

***

_*9/6/368 O.L.G., 9 a.m.*_

“I managed to throw myself off the slide before I hit the blade,” Boddynock explains as Timothy stretches carefully.  The wounds are mostly healed.  “Then we dropped a rope from above and everyone else climbed down.  But it’s a dangerous climb- if you fall, you might hit the razor.  So we didn’t want to climb back up and down unless it was necessary.  So we’ve been resting here the last few days.”  The gnome groans.  “But I can’t shake these damn buzzing bowels!”

Indeed, the small room stinks of excrement.  “It wasn’t until we cleared away the poop that we found the secret door,” Federico pipes up. 

“Well, let’s check it out!” exclaims Lita. 

“You keep saying that, and I keep telling you, we have to wait until Tim is rested,” Martini growls.  The two lock eyes for a moment in a stare of hate.

“I think I’m ready,” Timothy says.

Carefully the group clusters around the secret door.  In one swift motion, Martini throws it open; and below them, the group hears a sloshing and churning.

“There’s some kind of pool down there,” Martini comments, and Timothy casts a _light_ below.

A nightmare creature is revealed: an eerie translucent worm-like creature, with a huge number of tentacles surrounding a central maw.  The halflings (and kobold and gnome) can see its organs within its quivering, tube-like body.  The creature is huge, probably 30’ long; our heroes gape in horror at it.  Suddenly it jerks upright and thrusts its body up through the trap door.  With a hostile screech, it lunges at Martini.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes fight the terrible translucent monster!!  One of them won’t walk away!!!


----------



## the Jester

The huge serpentine creature lashes out, the many tentacles surrounding its central maw end in cruel barbed hooks.  Bluish slime spatters around the group as the creature slashes Martini with one of its deadly tentacles.  Within the horror, organs pulse and fluids flow.  It is gruesome to look upon and terrifying to face in battle.

Screaming shrilly, Naomi stabs at the creature’s mind with her psionic attacks, but to no avail.  It ignores her, its tentacles writhing out and trying to grasp just about all of our heroes in a flurry of slime-covered grasping!  Even as it strikes at him, Federico manages to shoot a bolt into the monster’s body!  Boddynock blasts it with a _magic missile,_ too; and then Martini lands a blow in the monster’s alien vitals!  A high-pitched sound emanates from the creature, and the pair of tentacles that Timothy is struggling against tear him nearly to death!  The autistic sorcerer screams in pain and collapses nervelessly to the ground.  The monster gives another high-pitched squeal, releasing him to batter at the others.  Boddynock reels as a blow tears across him, and Federico yelps as the worm-thing tears his belly open.  He cries out in agony, shaking in fear and pain as he japes at sings at it, trying to inspire confidence in his friends.

Our heroes are sorely pressed now.  Martini swings again, but he can’t get close enough to land a good blow without the monster tearing at him again.  Lita, her concentration shattered by several wounds, spends several precious moments trying to recover herself.  She winces as the gnome is smashed down by the terrible creature’s tentacles.  Naomi jabs her spear at it despairingly as Boddynock groans his way into unconsciousness.   

Our heroes are faltering.  Both Timothy and Boddynock have fallen!  “Careful!” shouts Martini, groaning from the pain of his own wounds.  “Watch out, dog!”  But his warning comes too late.  Federico shrieks as another tentacle lashes out, striking him senseless as well.  “Nooo!” shouts the ranger.  “You can’t have him!!!”  He leaps forward, his greatsword a blur, and he lands a telling blow right in the creature’s mouth, shattering it!*  With an agonized squeal, the great worm-thing jerks back and falls through the door in the floor.  With a cry of joy Martini heaves the trap door shut and stands up, shaking.  

Naomi and Lita are trying to stabilize the dying.  Strangely unconcerned, Martini cleans his sword.

”I couldn’t save him,” groans Lita, _”he’s dead!”_

“Good, we can eat him,” exclaims Naomi.

”We aren’t eating anyone!” Martini retorts grimly, glancing at the three prone forms.  Which one is dead?  His heart is harder than he would have expected; but nonetheless he hopes it isn’t his clan dog.

”Why not?” Naomi asks.  “It isn’t like it’s cannibalism or anything.  He’s not a halfling, after all.”

“Are you kidding?” Lita snorts.  “He was sick.  He’d probably get _us_ sick.  He’s had the buzzing bowels for the last few days, remember?  _I_ don’t want that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” snaps Martini.  “Nobody’s eating a companion.”

Naomi grumbles, but she goes along. 

***

Even if Boddynock wasn’t a halfling, he was a friend.  Martini is slightly guilty about having not even attempted to save him when he could have; but you can’t unburn bread, as they say. Done’s done.  

Rest is the first order of business, and doing something with Boddynock.  But getting out of the ziggurat won’t be easy, especially with several people unable to move under their own power.  Resting in the chamber strewn by Boddynock’s feces is an unattractive proposition, but it’s better than trying to rest in the slime below with the translucent worm thing.  

Martini and Naomi find the monster dead; its last exertions were too much for it.  Searching around they find some coins, worth about 700 gold pieces.  Then, exhausted, they return to the chamber in which they are, reluctantly, resting.  A deep sleep ensues.

***

_*9/7/368 O.L.G., 10 a.m.*_

When he struggles up after finally awakening, Federico immediately uses his bardic magic to heal himself and Timothy.  The two of them are much more distressed over the loss of Boddynock than Martini, Naomi or Lita.  After some weeping and tearful eating, the group discusses what to do with the gnome’s body.  To their distress, they determine that they can’t really do anything with it, given the deadly razor trap.  They leave the corpse to rot in the pyramid as they retreat from it. 

“Let’s get out of here!” exclaims Federico.  “These ruins aren’t friendly at all!”

The group quickly moves away from the ruins.  Federico’s tail is between his legs.  The group heads due north and promptly gets lost in the Stern Mountains.

***

_*4 p.m.*_

The party stumbles upon a campsite that shows some signs of disturbance.  While poking around, they find another halfling.  He claims that it is his campsite and that it was somewhat disturbed by another group.

“A group of what?  What’s your name?” Martini demands suspiciously.  

“Beau- Beau Highhill,” the halfling introduces himself.  “Hey, there they are again!”

Our heroes turn to see another group of individuals coming through the scattered trees towards them.  The leader is a halfling on a riding dog.  Following him are a number of thuggish-looking men and half-elves, as well as a gnome.  Grimly the halfling smiles at them.  “So!” he calls out.  “I’ve found you at last!”

“Hey, why’s he nocking an arrow?” asks Federico.

“Surrender Airhead Ed Flapjacks to me now, for her crimes against Benjy Peachtree- or prepare to be taken!”


_*Next Time:*_ Halflings vs. halflings!


*Critical hit just when you need it the most!


----------



## hippiejedi2

Following the end of the fight, Boddynock's life force had not quite diminished, but Matini was too busy wiping the blood off his sword and hence Boddynock died.  Had Martini tried to save Boddynock he would have been successful. (the player rolled a 15, a what if, in case he had tried to stabilize his fallen comrade)


----------



## the Jester

*Who Is Ed Flapjacks?*

“Who is Ed Flapjacks?” Lita calls at the advancing group.  She seems genuinely puzzled.

“They don’t really seem all that reasonable,” mumbles Beau, the halfling whom the party just met.  He glances ruefully at his disturbed camp.

“I told you he couldn’t be trusted, Tyrus!” barks one of the approaching warriors.  “He’s with them!”  The warrior glares at Beau.  Several of them have crossbows out.  The halfling in the lead nods a dangerous nod.  

“Forget this!” exclaims Sandy, darting laterally while he draws out his bow.  “Ed’s gone, we haven’t seen her in weeks!  Maybe months!”

The group continues to implacably advance upon our heroes.  Missiles start whizzing back and forth.  Lita, trying to spread confusion, cries out, “I surrender!  Help!” and rushes forward towards a human woman.  To her distress, however, the human’s method of accepting her surrender involves stabbing her!   She tries to erect a _force screen,_ but a well-timed blow from the enemy ruins her attempt at concentration, and she stumbles back, bleeding.  “Wait...!” she groans.  “I’m giving up!  I don’t want to fight,”

“Yeah, kill her,” Sandy shouts bitterly.  _What’s she doing, betraying us?  Didn’t she pull something like this once before?  Damn her!_ he thinks, snapping off arrows until he finally sinks one into the halfling leading the enemy.  He grins as one of the enemy crossbowmen dies with one of Federico’s bolts in his eye, then frowns as he sees the enemy gnome launch a series of _magic missiles_ at Timothy, but they dissipate off the autistic kid’s _shield_ spell.  

Beau, uncertain of what he should do, picks the target that seems to have everyone against it: Lita.  He rushes forward and stabs at her with his short sword, then laughs when Sandy sinks an arrow into her.  “Wait!” screams Lita.  

Naomi, meanwhile has waddled up near the leader of the other side and jabs a _mind thrust_ at him.  The leader, Tyrus Laughletter, reels for an instant, but then repels Naomi’s initial attack by force of will and slashes out at her with a rapier gleaming silver in the sun.  Naomi grunts as the blade draws a scarlet line across her arm.  The burly humans nearest him have drawn greatswords, and now they close with Martini, who is attacking Tyrus.  Their leader’s dog snarls forward as well, Tyrus having dismounted.

“Ed’s not even with us anymore, she vanished without a word!” exclaims Martini as he parries a blow from Tyrus’ blade.  

“I don’t believe you,” grunts Tyrus Laughletter.  “Give her up!”

“Who sent you?”

He does not reply. 

There’s a flare of color from the side as Timothy drops several of the enemy warriors with a _color spray._  Full pitched battle has erupted.  In the midst of it all, Beau picks Lita’s pocket, then steps back as one of the greatsword-wielding men cuts her down.  She drops in a spray of blood and the man steps threateningly towards Beau.  Ethyl has fallen in a flurry of greatswords, too; Federico gives a cry of dismay and shoots down another crossbowman.  So far the battle is still undecided, with both sides suffering losses.

With a sob, Federico’s scrawny kobold arms crank his crossbow string back.  He drops another quarrel into the slot and raises it to his shoulder.  “It was Benjy Peachtree, wasn’t it?” he cries.  “It was all an accident!”  And he fires at Tyrus, sinking the bolt deep into his back.  He collapses.  

“That’s what we need!” cheers Martini, slashing at Tyrus’ dog, who is now snapping at biting frantically at him.  But the tide has turned.  Naomi rapidly slays several of the remaining warriors and then glances at the dog; suddenly it is bleeding out of its ears and eyes, and with a yelp it collapses.

It’s over.  

Our heroes check the bodies.  Naomi stabilizes Lita and sticks up for her firmly.  “She was just trying to confuse things,” she argues.

“Well, yeah, she succeeded,” Sandy snips dryly.  

“She was just trying to help!  Sure, she’s a dumb ditzy blonde, but she’s _our_ dumb ditzy blonde!”

“She better not do anything like that again,” Martini rumbles.  He certainly seems more threatening lately.  Why, I remember the days when Martini was a kind, gentle fellow, and he _never_ would have buried his sword in a companion’s face like he did to Lita a few days ago.  Speaking of that event, I wonder if there might be mutual hard feelings?*  But I digress.

Beau nervously asks the group if he can travel with them.  He’s had several unfortunate encounters on his own, and he needs help if he’s to survive in these dangerous lands.

Almost everyone is wounded but everyone is alive, so they determine that rest ought to be their next order of business.  Federico heals those he can and they all apply bandages and salves and get down to the business of a good refreshing meal.

***

_*9/10/368 O.L.G., 1 p.m., along the Lofta River*_

Our heroes have skirted the mountains and are now north of them, following the broad Lofta River.  Its waters seem extremely shallow.  As they follow it, Beau questions the group about this ‘Ed Flapjacks’ that Tyrus’ group was pursuing.  

“She’s an old companion of ours,” answers Federico.  “I think those guys were sent by Benjy Peachtree.  Ed shot out one of his eyes during one of our earlier adventurers.”

“Why did she do that?”

“Well, he caught her stealing his garen.”

“This doesn’t really paint her in the best light...”

“She was great,” opines Federico.  “She was funny.  She was a drama queen.”  He heaves a sigh. 

***

_*9/11/368 O.L.G., 11 a.m., Goodreed*_

Our heroes arrive in a small town of about 300 souls.  It is called Goodreed for the reeds that grow along the shallows of the Lofta, but with the waters so low the reeds are dying out.  It’s on the tip of everyone’s tongue; the water is unnaturally low, and suddenly so; what could be causing the problem?

In order to get in the city, Federico, a kobold, is forced to register as a dangerous pet of Lita’s.  He is mortified.  The guards at least have the decency to direct them to an inn they think the halflings will like, which turns out to be accurate.  It is called the Filleted Salmon.  

In looking for passage downriver, and thus a quick escape from Strogass- “people are hunting us, we’re being fined, we’ve gotta get out of here!” –our heroes learn how the water situation affects them.

“It’s too shallow for a boat to make it downstream,” groans Federico.

“Maybe we should try to figure out what’s happened to the river,” Martini suggests.  “Travel by boat is _much_ faster than walking overland.”

After a short debate, our heroes agree: the next day they will strike out to find out why the Lofta is so depleted.

Meanwhile, Timothy, Beau and Federico go to visit the local wizard, who turns out to be somewhat deranged and highly intoxicated on the fumes of his various alchemical experiments.  He describes himself as “good with chemicals” and is clearly a little bit ‘off’ due to extended exposure to the fumes.  He trades a _wand of magic missiles_ and the material Timothy needs to summon a familiar for his writ**, and then throws a potion in as well.  He’s becoming less and less lucid by the moment, so our heroes depart.

Elsewhere, Lita has found a half-orc merchant willing to cash in her writ for her in exchange for certain favors the loose-moraled halfling has no problem performing for him.  The group doesn’t see her again until the next morning, when she goes to rest. 

Over the course of the evening Timothy performs the ritual to summon a familiar.  It’s full dark by the time he’s done, and the creature that answers the call is a bat.  “Oh, hi, Mr. Bat,” Timothy says cheerfully.  He extends a berry to the bat, who eagerly scampers forward and eats it.  “What’s your name?  Bob?  I think I’ll call you Bob unless you tell me otherwise.”

***

_*9/13/368, 3 p.m., south of Goodreed*_

“Well, I’ll be dammed,” quips Beau.

Indeed.  Traveling up the river a day and a half has led our heroes to what can only be described as a dam.  It’s huge, constructed of lengths of wood.  

“Who built this?” wonders Lita.

In the distance there’s a slapping splash.

“Beavers,” says Martini grimly.  _”Dire_ beavers.”

_*Next Time:*_ That’s right!!  Dire beavers!!! 


*In fact, at this point in the campaign Martini and Lita had both begun plotting to kill one another. 

**Recall that, as a reward for capturing Manson, each of our pcs received a writ worth 2500 gp.


----------



## hippiejedi2

Beau and his fellow Highhills were wandering about doing Halfling things when ambushed by those seeking Airhead Ed flapjacks.  As Highhill's none were to close fo Ed, much less knew of her whereabouts, so they paid the price of ignorance with there lives, all except of course Beau.
Beau met the party and immediately those searching for Ed appeared, so Beau had allegiance to neither, but he did seek vengence on behalf of his clan.  In the battle w/those seeking Ed, Beau did attack Lita when she was surrendering, since she was standing next to the other party.  Beau shot @ her under the pretense that he could claim he was fighting for either side.  Towards the end of the battle when the tide had turned and the victor was apparent, Beau feigned tending to Lita's wounds and lifted her purse.  After all it could have fallen in the midst of the battle?
In the shop of the chemically influenced wizard, Beau "sampled" a potion/oil. (magic weapon +1?) As he was leaving he noticed that the kobold, Federico was also of a similar mind of the wizard and out of the kindness of his heart sought to aid the kobld by carrying his heavy purse. After all the kobold was weak and the only two who would have a chance to know of any funny business was the drugged up kobold and the autistic kid Timothy.


----------



## the Jester

Picture if you will the mad agglomeration of logs and half-chewed trees that would dam a deep, wide river, made by 200-pound well-muscled dire beavers.  Picture these beavers, anywhere from 5’ to 8’ long from nose to rump; and picture our heroes, a band of wee little halflings, struggling to overcome them and tear down that massive dam to restore the flow of water.

If ever a halfling foe there was, a dire beaver is that foe. 

Joined by a gnomish rogue the group met in town who calls himself Whisperclick, our heroes make their assault.  For a day and a night and a day again our heroes struggle with the nest of beavers.  They struggle in combat as a group of four beavers charges them, slapping tails on the water; more beavers come and attack them in the night; and then, later, when they face the mother of all beavers, a grey-furred dire beaver with an amazing 12’ long body, they are hard-pressed but Lita’s _swarm of crystal_ wins the day.

But waves of beavers keep coming, every few hours.  It is exhausting.  Finally their numbers trickle off, and they stop coming.  Thank goodness Trinia isn’t there; surely, as a druid, she would have objected to wiping out the local population of dire beavers!

But the dam remains.

***

_*9/14/368 O.L.G., 9:30 a.m., near the dire beaver dam*_

“But _how_ are we going to destroy it?” wonders Sandy.  “It’s so big... and it’s soaked.  I doubt whether it’ll burn.”

“There’s that wizard in town,” suggests Lita.  “He’s good with chemicals.  Maybe he has something that can help.”

“Hey, good idea!” exclaims Sandy. 

The party packs up and heads back towards Goodreed, traveling through a day of oppressive heat.

***

_*3:30 p.m., Goodreed*_

The party arrives at the Filleted Salmon.  As they sit and cool off over a nice beverage, Sandy suggests they go to visit the wizard.

Lita shakes her head.  “I think it’s too late in the day.  He, ah, won’t be doing business.”

“What do you mean?”

“He likes his chemicals.”

“Oh,” Sandy answers, mulling it over for a moment.  “Then why don’t we go invite him to dinner?”

“He won’t come,” Lita says.  

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think he leaves his house much.”

“Well, maybe we should send a runner to tell him we’ll be there in the morning,” suggests Sandy.

“We don’t need to,” Lita responds.  “There are no rules of etiquette with this guy.  He won’t remember it if we do send a runner.”

“Humph,” snorts Sandy, and later that evening he hires a runner to announce their visit in the morning.  Much to everyone’s surprise, the runner returns with the wizard’s reply: “Come now.”

When they reach the wizard, the strange odor of his chemical fumes hangs heavily in his house.  It makes the halflings’ eyes water, their vision spot, their heads light.  The wizard raves confusingly at the group for a while, obviously completely loaded; and then he gives them a book of elvish songs and sends them on their way.

“Well, that was helpful,” remarks Beau.

“We can always go back in the morning,” muses Sandy.  “He might not even remember tonight when tomorrow comes.”

***

_*9/15/368 O.L.G., 11 a.m., the wizard’s house*_

For once ‘the crack head’ (as Lita, Naomi and Whisperclick have nicknamed the fume-sniffing wizard) is fairly coherent.  He listens as they describe the dam and ask for his help.

“Hmm,” he says, thinking for a long moment.  Then he snaps his fingers.  “Green slime!  That’s what you need!  And it just so happens that I have a few ‘samples’ I could sell you...”

Before they leave, Lita smokes a weird crystal with the wizard.  Afterwards, her world is officially rocked; her head spins, her stomach feels peculiar, she can feel a tightness in her cheeks from the big grin on her face.  And boy, would she love some more of that good stuff!  In fact, she buys one of the crystals- called _dzur_- from the wizard, but she holds off on smoking it.

Sandy shakes his head.  “You should _know better,_” he says disbelievingly.

***

_*9/16/368, 4 p.m., the dire beaver dam*_

Bird song and the chirping of grasshoppers is our soundtrack as our heroes solemnly prepare themselves to use the slime.  “What are we going to do with it?” asks Timothy.

“I guess we just throw it on the dam,” answers Naomi.

And that’s just what they do, in the deep shadows of the mountains in the late afternoon.  The glass globe flies from Lita’s hand, smashing near the top of the dam.  Greening goop slops out and seems to catch on the surrounding wood.

“Wow, look at that stuff go,” Sandy comments after a minute.  

“That’s an awful lot of water,” remarks Beau.

They watch as the green slime seems to spread, almost as if it were sending out tendrils along the wood.  Small areas are starting to leak significant water.

“What do you think will happen when the dam bursts?” Naomi asks.

The halflings look at each other, then back at the dam as a reasonably big chunk of slime-covered wood collapses out, landing in the water flowing downstream.  More water begins escaping through the hole.

“We’re downstream,” Sandy say.  “Oh, crap.”

Our heroes begin running to the side, hoping to avoid the flood that is about to ensue.  But they are too slow.  The dam bursts in a roar, water, green slime and massive chunks of wood slamming everywhere.  Suddenly, several people just seem to vanish.  Lita gives a shriek as she sweeps downstream, gasping and splashing.  Timothy and Naomi are nowhere to be seen.

***

_*8 p.m., Goodreed*_

When our heroes drag themselves back to town, they are appalled at the level of devastation that the flood has caused.  There are people missing- still no sign of Timothy- and green slime has infested several buildings that had to be burned out. 

Worse yet, the party seems to get all the blame for the devastation while the crack head wizard takes all the credit for restoring the flow of the river!  He even receives a medal and the reward that the pcs were hoping to get.

This leads a coalition of Sandy, Naomi and Lita to attack and kill the wizard.  This nearly ends in disaster, but a combination of fast blades, playing it cool and fleet feet allow the halflings to escape downstream, looking for a fisherman’s house or a boat or... or something.

”You realize the irony that we’re still on foot,” Sandy comments to the others.

***

That night the party finds Timothy, cold and scared on the side of the river.  They travel for a few days, heading down stream and hoping to find a boat.  Eventually they meet a goblin community, where a bugbear trades them a rowboat for Lita’s dzur.

Then it’s down river in style for several days that are unremarkable except for the heat.  Well, and Lita’s attempts to come on to Timothy.  This freaks him out; he doesn’t really like her very much.  Timothy is a fragile thing of purest goodness, though not entirely right in the head, and Lita has become a darker soul thanks to the influence of Naomi.  He flees when she tries to touch him in his no-no place. 

***

_*9/23/368 O.L.G., 11 a.m., on the Lofta River*_ 

The forest has been ahead of them for some time, and now they finally enter it.  The cool shade is a relief after days of hot sun; and quickly the character of the air changes, becoming more humid, cooler, with dappled amber light.  

Sandy is their boatman; as a stout, it’s only fitting that he pilot.  But unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to be his day.  About an hour after entering the shade of the trees, the boat suddenly lurches as it hits a submerged obstacle, and it shudders as the bottom rips open.  Water starts pouring in through the hole in the planks.

Sandy curses, quickly getting the boat to shore.  A quick examination shows that it would take tools and materials not present to fix the damage.  Sandy sighs glumly.  

“Well, looks like we’re on foot again,” says Beau.


_*Next Time:*_ Lost in the Lofta!


----------



## the Jester

Here's an updated party list at this point in the story hour:

*Lita Alexander,* rogue 1/psion 3; CE.  "The fine bitch."
*Naomi*, psion 4; CE.  "The fat bitch."
*Phynel "Sandy" Sandybanks*, rogue 3/fighter 2; LE.
*Timothy,* autistic sorcerer 4; CG.
*Beau*, rogue 3; CE.
*Martini*, ranger 2/fighter 2; LE.
*Whisperclick*, gnome rogue 2; NE.
*Jawbreaker*, barbarian 3; CG.
*Federico*, kobold bard 3/sorcerer 2; CG.  "The dog."

As you can see, somehow our beautiful halfling party has veered drastically towards evil!  Between Naomi's inflluence on the formerly-chaotic neutral Lita and Martini's change in perspective after he donned the helmet... well.  Anyway, we'll see if it lasts and what 'evil halflings' do...


----------



## the Jester

*Into the Lofta Forest*

_*9/23/368 O.L.G., 12:10 p.m., the Lofta Forest*_

The Lofta Forest proves to be a fey place.  

How much time the group spends there, they can never after be sure, for after the arch it is always twilight beneath the overarching canopy of the trees, and one moment seems to stretch into the next.  Time is distorted, like an image from a funhouse mirror, with that same sense of derangement; but we’ll get to the arch soon enough.  Until then, the environment is pleasant enough and full of the rich aroma of the woods, dappled with the amber light of the sun through the overhead leaves.  The thick vegetation forces them away from the river before they’re half a mile into the thick woods, but they keep a reasonable sense of direction. 

When the plants come alive and twist all about, _entangling_ our heroes, they are caught by surprise; but they cease their struggles and attempt to reason with the beautiful creature that steps from her tree.

She wants only Timothy; she wishes to show him beauty and ecstasy like he’s never seen.  Unable to read between the lines, he easily agrees.  “I like beauty,” he says.  The dryad takes him into her tree, but after only about fifteen minutes he walks over a rise and returns to the party.

“What happened?” asks Beau.

Timothy looks puzzled.  “I don’t know... she said I need to be healed.”*

***

_*5 p.m.*_

Somewhat later, out heroes fight off a rabid bear.  They briefly discuss eating it, but reason that it might be bad to eat diseased flesh.  Then, as the darkness thickens, our heroes rest for a time.   

***

_*9/24/368 O.L.G., 1 p.m.*_

“Do you hear that?” Lita asks, puzzled, cocking her head.

“What is it?” asks Sandy?

Naomi is blathering away and totally fails to notice that they’ve even stopped to listen.

Faintly, they can hear music in the distance.  “Ooh, music!” exclaims Timothy.  “I like music!” 

The group follows the sounds, veering off to their left, and soon they find a thin arch, covered in vines, leading to a manicured tunnel through a thicket.  Exchanging glances, our heroes pass through and follow the tunnel.  All around them, the plants form an almost-frightening, impenetrable barrier.

The tunnel leads to a clearing, within which is a well.  Our heroes approach it cautiously.  A path leads by the well, heading out of the clearing to either side.  Next to the well is a fancy-looking comb.  Lita picks this up, interested.  “I wonder who lost their comb,” she chirps aloud, then drops the bucket in the water.  She hears it splash into liquid, so she hauls it back up.  To her surprise, there is a head in the bucket!  Even more surprising, it speaks.

_”Arrr!  My tangled locks!  Comb them out for me!”_

After a moment, Lita shrugs.  “Umm, okay.”  She starts combing the head’s hair with the comb she found next to the well.  It hisses and groans in pleasure as she does so; the whole experience is very unsettling.  

_”Ahh, well done, but my brothers are not so easy!”_ exclaims the head.  _”But for your skills, I’ll tell ye this: STAY ON THE PATH!”_

Lita frowns.  “Hey, don’t tell me what to do!”  She hefts the head in her hands, a wicked grin on her face, and she drop-kicks it into the woods.

“What did you just do?” exclaims Sandy.  “What are you thinking?!”

Lita shrugs.  “He was a jerk.”

“Yeah, but he might have been able to help us get back to the river, or get out of here, or something!”

“Oh well.”  Lita shrugs again.

The party chooses the left path, and they head into the thick woods again.  Almost immediately, they catch a whiff of something that smells delicious.  Something like... fresh-baked pie!

Through the woods, screened by trees and barely visible, is what appears to be a cottage.  Immediately leaving the path, our heroes scurry towards it.

_*Next Time:*_ Well, our heroes have dug themselves in deep already and they don’t even know it!  Next they eat some poisoned pie!


*What happened is that the dryad came on to Timothy, who was utterly confused.  She realized he was insane, and took pity on him; and so she released him to his companions.  Whew!  Coulda lost that kid for years!


----------



## the Jester

_*Lost in the Fey Realms*_

Stumbling along through the woods, following the scent of baked goods, our band of intrepid halflings wanders their way to a small cottage.  

“I smell pie,” mumbles Naomi, her mouth watering.

“Oh come in, come in!”  The door swings wide and a matronly elven woman stands beaming.  “Would you like some pie?”

“We’re halflings!” cries Beau.  “Of course we want some pie!”

_Do they remember nothing?_

Too late; our heroes eat heartily of envenomed food, and only after weakness steals over their limbs do they realize why the oven is so large. 

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes, poisoned and weak, lost in Faerie, try to avoid becoming a witch’s dinner!


----------



## the Jester

*Oven Stuffin*

It’s a peaceful little scene at first glance.  The scent of baked goods wafts upon the air; a pretty little herb garden is along the side of the cheerful-looking cottage.  Just the kind of thing to put a band of halflings at ease.  Especially the smell- mmmm, it’s delicious.  How could you turn _that_ down, if you had a grumbling belly?  No, not if you’re a halfling you couldn’t.  

But alas, alas, they really should have.  

Lita’s head falls forward.  She groans, unable to even move.  _There was poison in the pie,_ realizes with a shock.  _What a terrible thing to do to a halfling!_  Her eyes fluttering, she grimaces as Timothy topples forward as well.  She feels herself fading... fading... then oblivion.  

Sandy struggles weakly to his feet and lifts Lita up.  “What’s going on?” he croaks. 

The elf opens the oven, humming merrily.  “Oh, nothing.  We’re just going to do a little cooking.”  She grins wickedly and starts to drag Timothy over to the oven.

“What are you doing?” Sandy exclaims.  “Hey, hold on a minute!”  

The elf stuffs Timothy into the oven and turns to face Sandy, hands on her hips.  She purses her lips and looks the group over.  “Surely you understand,” she says.  “You’re halflings.  You have to eat.  Here, why don’t you have some more pie?”  She smiles kindly as she moves over to Beau’s unconscious form.

“Wait a minute!”  Sandy steps between the oven and the witch.  Uh, I mean elf woman.  

“Come now, lad, there’s no need to be difficult.  Have a little of my wine,” she gestures at a bottle.  

“No thanks!” Sandy retorts sharply.  “Don’t make us kill you!”

“I doubt whether you could,” the witch says frankly.  Er, elf.  “You can barely stand, and half of your friends are asleep.”  She smiles.  “But there’s no reason to get all cranky.  You and your awake friends can leave.”  She nods towards the door.

“We aren’t leaving our friends behind,” Sandy snaps.

“Well, how about this,” the elf says after a moment’s cogitation.  “Why don’t you just give me the fat one and we’ll call it even?”  She points at Naomi.

“Hey!” Naomi cries.  “Forget it!” 

“Well, let me get the oven started while we think about it-“

“No, I don’t think so!”  Sandy stands firm, though he can help glancing yearningly at the pie.  _But it was poisoned!_ he reminds himself.  “Lita!” he calls, reaching over and shaking her.

The elf matron puts her hand upon his shoulder.  “She’s just sleeping.  Come on, now, just lie down for a minute, it’s nap time,” she murmurs, but he jerks as he feels his life energy being leached from him and sucked into her.  He groans and drops Lita from nerveless fingers.  He staggers forward and wheels around, whipping out his bow and firing a shot.  But it sails past the elf woman and buries itself in a cabinet behind her.

Naomi, stomach churning, cries out, “You poisoned us, you witch!”  Her mind strikes, a quick rapier of pure thought- but the elf just smiles, turning the mental blow off her formidable will.  Then she vanishes.

“Oh crap,” Sandy moans, swaying on his feet.  

Naomi hurries to the oven and extracts Timothy’s limp form from it.  _He’s still breathing,_ she notes with a combination of relief and disappointment.  Swiftly, she drags the crazy boy to the cabin’s door.  Sandy grabs up Lita and drags her to the door as well.

Locked.

Beau’s body jerks into the air. 

“She’s got him!” Sandy cries.  He fires his bow, hoping to hit an invisible elf-witch, but to his dismay, his arrow sinks into Beau instead!  With a cry, the halfling awakens.  Cursing, Sandy fires again, and this time his arrow hits.  The hag hisses in anger as Beau squirms free of her grasp, and another arrow hits!  The witch snarls and its hand glows green.  It swipes at Naomi, who ducks and weaves; but it only needs to touch her, and in only a few seconds it has done so.  She feels her life energy leaching away, just as Sandy did.

Cursing and spitting, Naomi blasts the elf witch with a _recall agony._  She flinches back, but then strikes with her bare claws.  Her image seems to be wavering as she does so- she is not as she appears!  As her terrible claws rip Naomi to the ground, the elf witch is revealed as a terrible, twisted woman, with iron-tough grey-green skin and long matted hair.  Her rotten teeth stink terribly, and suddenly our heroes catch their first whiff of it.  “Caught you, fat one!” she cackles.

Beau groans and pulls out his lock picks.  “We have to get out of here!”  He sets to work on the door.  “Hold her off!”

“Uh...” Sandy glances around.  Yep, that’s him all right.  

The elf-hag rushes in, clawing at Sandy, even as he fires his bow, continuing to land arrows.  But the terrible claws rend and tear at him, forcing him to tumble away, and the giggling hag advances.  It glares at Beau.  “Stop that, boy!  I like my door _locked!_”  She strides towards him.  He squeaks and tries to bolt, but she grabs him by the head and slams him into the very door he was trying to unlock!  With a groan, Beau falls unconscious.

“Uh, maybe the fat chick isn’t such a bad trade after all,” Sandy tries.  

The hag laughs.  “Fool, you had your chance!  Now it’s the oven for _all of you!!_”  With a gleeful shriek, she lunges for him, and he backpedals, sinking another arrow into her.  Her claw rips at his shoulder, and Sandy’s starting to be more than a little worried- he’s becoming downright terrified.

He’s it.  He’s all that’s left.  He’s the last one, do or die.  If he fails, the entire clan is dinner.

Oh, man.

Sandy redoubles his efforts.  Back and forth the battle carries them through the house; and, unnoticed by either of them, Lita’s eyes are fluttering again.  Slowly, dreamily, she’s waking up.  She groans, barely able to move.  But she doesn’t need to move to use her psionic powers.  

A _swarm of crystals_ blasts out from her trembling fingertips.  The hag shrieks in surprise and Sandy laughs in joy.  _Maybe... maybe!_ 

The hag whirls and rushes towards Lita.  She blasts it with another _swarm of crystals,_ and it screams and staggers, but its claws catch her at the same moment- digging across her forehead- and Lita slams down to the ground with a _crack!_

The hag takes a single, faltering step, staggers around to face Sandy, and falls over.  

“Oh thank the gods,” he groans, collapsing to his knees.  Then, seeing his friends bleeding out, he moves quickly to do what he can to aid them. 

Around him, the fabulous cottage changes appearance.  It is suddenly a dilapidated, worn-out shack.  The fabulous baked goods are pie shells full of bugs and worms, and Sandy doesn’t even look to see what the other food and drink might have been.  He vomits briefly, then watches mournfully over his friends in the witch’s house.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes continue to be lost in faerieland!


----------



## the Jester

*The Big Fish*

_*In the witch’s cottage, lost in the Lofta Forest*_

Battered, poisoned, nearly dead- our heroes need to rest.  Martini keeps watch while the others collapse into a fitful sleep.  It is not long before he notices that it is always twilight.  Once the others awaken, he worriedly reports this to them.  Perhaps more frightening, he heard the sound of music in the distance while they rested, indicating that someone- or something- is out there.

After some discussion, the group decides to rest until they’ve recovered somewhat more.  Martini and Beau notice that they need neither sleep nor food.  This revelation is horrible.  “Can you imagine?” chokes out Beau.  “Life without _food??_”  With a shudder our heroes pull out rations and chow down.  

“I can’t stop eating,” mumbles Timothy around a mouthful of salted beef, “I’m on the halfling program!”

***

After a long while the party is well enough to go on.  How much time has passed?  They have no idea.  It feels like days, but the eternal twilight doesn’t ever change significantly.  “We need to find the river,” Martini states, “and follow it downstream.  That will get us out of the forest.  So while we’re traveling, we need to try to find a creek or a rivulet and follow _it_ downstream- it will lead us to the river, and eventually to the sea.”

“And off Strogass!” declares Timothy.  “They aren’t very nice here.” 

“Let’s get back to the trail,” suggests Beau.

Unfortunately, they seem to have lost the trail.  After searching thoroughly for it for hours, they give up and strike off cross country.  Martini’s near infallible sense of direction seems utterly confused here.  Long hours of marching through deep woods ensue.  Our heroes are careful to always stay within sight of each other, lest they become separated and lost.  More and more this feels like an enchanted forest from a faerie tale or something, and it’s still that cursed twilight.  

Finally, the party stumbles across a small brook.  Grinning, they start to follow it downstream.  Periodically, the sound of music in the distance drifts out to them, and once in a while one or another of them blinks, startled, at a trick of the light and shadow that almost looks like a winged creature riding a snail or something similar.  Then, as they crunch across a bed of gravel alongside the brook near a small waterfall, they catch sight of someone moving, rising from a rock upon the brook and turning to regard them.

”Hey, it’s that guy,” Timothy mumbles.

The figure squints at the autistic halfling and smiles.  “I remember you,” he says.  “You owe me one!”

Martini squints at the figure.  Who- ?  Then a memory tickles him.  Yes, the fellow who gave Timothy the gelatinous snack beneath the waterfall, that helped him pass his psychological evaluation after the group was put on trial!  

The man- some sort of fey, Martini is almost sure- is named Latheo, and now it is time for the party to pay back his previous kindness to Timothy.  His favorite swimming hole is hunted by a giant gar, leaving him unable to enjoy it.  Our heroes easily agree to go kill it.

“It’s just downstream,” Latheo says.

”How far?” Beau asks.

The fey man shrugs.  “Oh, you know.”  He kind of flutters his hands.

“Uh... no.  How far did you say it was?”

“Just a little ways.”

“Right... meaning?”

“You know, a bit.”  Again, Latheo makes vague gestures.

Beau sighs.  “Right.”

***

The swimming hole is large and placid.  At first there’s no sign of the gar.  “Don’t get too deep into the water!” Martini warns the group.  “If it grabs you in deep water you’re buggered- not only will it be eating you, you might drown!  We need to lower it to the edge.”

His friends gulp.  

Still, there’s no sign of the giant gar.  

“How big do you think it is?” asks Beau.  

Martini glares at him.  “Big,” he growls.  “Bigger than us.”

Beau gulps again.

Finally, ignoring his own advice to stay out of the water, Martini slogs in to his hips and starts dangling himself as bait.  Sure enough, he soon spots motion in the water.  “There!” he cries, pointing, and he whips his bow out.  An arrow is fitted to the string, while on shore Beau does the same.  A pair of projectiles of force zip out from Timothy, striking the fish under the water with the spell!  It darts forward, virtually ignoring the arrows that stick in it, and in one smooth gulp it swallows Martini whole.

“Martini, no!” Timothy cries in horror, firing off another pair of _magic missiles._  The fish surges forward, snapping at the source of its agony, as Beau keeps shooting his shortbow.  Then suddenly gar leaps forward and grabs Beau in its mouth, though he’s only knee deep in the water! 

Beau gasps and struggles against the gar’s tongue and teeth, which are attempting to force him down its gullet.  The fish is starting to retreat with him, and Timothy, shrieking in terror and dismay, invokes a _flaming sphere._  The fish thrashes as the flames lick on its back, and Beau takes advantage of the monster’s distress to squirm free.  Staggering through the muck of the shallows, he slogs towards shore while Timothy creates a second _flaming sphere._  Then, to his distress, the gar retreats, apparently willing to settle for a one-halfling sized meal.

Beau, gasping, reaches shore and whirls around.  “Timothy, no!” he cries.

The sorcerer is waddling into the water.  “We have to save Martini!” he cries.  “Come on, Beau!  I’ll attract the fish-“

Indeed he does.  Suddenly, in a spray of muddy water, the gar seizes Timothy around the chest.  Its long teeth rip into the halfling’s tender skin, and Timothy screams as the gar gulps him down.  The sorcerer disappears into the fish’s belly.

“Oh no,” whispers Beau.

He fires at the gar as it struggles in the shallows, shooting it right in the eye.  The fish jerks convulsively, terribly wounded; and Beau shouts in rage and frustration, firing another arrow into its other eye.  The fish spasms once more, and then expires.

Quickly, Beau hurries over to it.  His knife slices open its belly, and he finds his companions within its stomach.  

Martini is dead, but Timothy yet lives.  Beau works fast, binding the lad’s wounds and working to keep him from falling past the veil.  When he’s satisfied at last that Timothy is out of danger (at least for the time being), he lays back, exhausted, against a tree for a moment.  Only one more thing before he can rest.  

With a sigh, Beau begins looting Martini.

_*Next Time:*_ The terrible loss of Martini leaves our heroes even more lost in the fey woods.  What they really need is someone friendly to talk to!


----------



## the Jester

Party update:

Martini- ranger 2/fighter 2; LE
Beau- Rogue 3; CE
Timothy- Sorcerer 4; CG
Naomi- Psion 4; LE
Whisperclick- Rogue 2; NE
Sandy- Rogue 3/Fighter 2; LE
Jawbreaker- Barbarian 3; CG

By this time, Lita's player had moved to New York, so I'll leave her off the list.  iirc the character just vanished while the pcs were wandering around lost in the woods.


----------



## the Jester

*The Forest Oracle*

_*Lost in the fey realms*_

The best part, muses Beau as the group heads back upstream, is that now he has Martini’s helmet.  With an inward grin, he thinks of all the fun he’s going to have with it.

It took them a long time to heal up enough to travel on; but the entire time it has been that eerie twilight.  Beau shivers.  This wood definitely feels unnatural- who knows what lurks within it?  _And what about the head?_ wonders Beau.  _It said something about its brothers..._  He sighs.  _Stupid Lita, kicking the head away!  It might have known something helpful._

Shaking his head, Beau keeps his thoughts to himself. 

The group reaches Latheo after several hours, and upon hearing that they slew the gar, the strange man’s face contorts in a grin.  “Excellent!” he exclaims.  “Ah, my swimming hole!  Come, friends, let us go put it to use!”

“Is there any way you can help our friend?” Timothy asks.  “Martini died helping you.”

“Ah!  Not I, not I,” Latheo laments.  

Glumly our heroes follow him back to the swimming hole.  With him at their side, the trek takes only about fifteen minutes.  Blissfully, he swims out into the water, and- reluctantly at first- our heroes join him.  Soon they find themselves relaxing, despite the mournful loss of Martini; and they determine to take his body with them, at least for the time being, to see if aught can be done for him.  Latheo happily advises them to seek out the oracle of the woods.  “Perhaps it can help you,” he offers.

“Where do we find it?” asks Beau.

“Oh, you know, that way,” replies Latheo, waving a hand kind of negligently around in a few directions.

“Right,” Beau groans.

***

Tromping for hour through the woods, our heroes struggle through the undergrowth until they finally meet a wise old treant named Fleswood.  Impressed by their good manners, he is friendly enough and, when asked, gladly guides them to the cave that the oracle is said to dwell in.  

The party sets camp outside the cave and rests and eats for a time.  Beau sneaks off and removes Martini’s magic gem from the setting in the helmet that Martini had put it in.  Smirking, the rogue pockets it for the time being.  Then, whistling, he returns to the group.  

“Say, Timothy, you should try Martini’s helmet on,” he says.

”Why?” asks Timothy slowly.  

“It will make you powerful.  Remember how powerful Martini was?  It was because of his helmet!”

“I don’t like helmets.  They’re too heavy.”

“Why do you want him to try the helmet on?” asks Whisperclick, the party’s gnomish companion.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea in any event.”  Sandy frowns.  “I think that it changed the way Martini thought.  He used to be all soft, but it really firmed him up, gave him some discipline.”

The gnome looks at the helm, interest obvious in his eyes.

“Try it on,” suggests Beau.

“But then you might not be able to take it off,” warns Naomi, wincing as she remembers the blow Martini had delivered to Lita’s face when she took it off his head.

“I’ll do it if you do it,” offers Beau, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Whisperclick obviously torments himself in internal debate for a few minutes; thenhe shrugs.  “Okay.”  He hefts the helmet for a moment, testing its weight, then slips it over his head.

Everyone looks on expectantly, but there’s no immediate visible effect.  Whisperclick sways for a moment, but then he shrugs and removes the helm, handing it back to Beau.  “Okay, it’s your turn.”

Beau mulls it over for a minute, then shrugs and puts the helmet in his backpack.  “Nah.  I’ll do it later.”  He wanders off to eat, leaving Whisperclick sputtering in dismay.*  

“But we had a deal...”   

***

The oracle is a strange earthen woman named Brakrin.  Again, the party approaches politely, hats in hand so to speak, and she is impressed enough by their manner that she smiles and says, _“My prophecies tell of doom and destruction, of dissolution and the decay of all things, and also of wealth and material gain.  I will speak once only, and then you must go from here; such is the custom.  In return you must each leave two things well-chosen from your pockets and pack.  Listen well, for my words come but a single time.

“Many endings are coming fast upon us all at this time; an end to the restraint of some realms, which you are experiencing; an ending to unities long tied together with cords of blood; an end to an era of history.  You, personally, you have all suffered much loss lately; many of your companions have been lost to you.  A dreadful curse will lay across your shoulders once you leave our lands, and one of you will likely die before you escape it.  Many enemies are following you, and you will draw them like moths to a torch at night.  The deadliest of all will follow you to the Final Battleground before all is done; and death will visit that battleground with terrible greed and hunger.

“Indeed, the price for your escape- or a price- is death for at least one of you.  There may be other ways, yet the guide must always be paid lest you be lost forever, here where time passes differently than you perceive. 

“The Three Haligonians will never forget your face,”_ pointing at Lita,_ “for the terrible insult you dealt one of them.  As long as he remains without the well, you shall not find the path.**

“As for wealth, the greatest wealth you have amongst you is not money but favors.  Do not underestimate the power of your currency.  It might perhaps be enough even to overcome the terrible curse of the Haligonians, or even death itself.”_

The party turns as one to Lita.  “Dammit, Lita!” exclaims Sandy.  “Why did you have to kick that head into the woods?!”

“Maybe we can find him.”  Timothy looks at the others.  “If we put him back in the well, maybe he’ll help us find the path.”

Everyone within the cave leaves two items for the earth oracle.  Timothy leaves the torch and dagger combo that he always carries (almost for security).  Naomi leaves a bottle of liquor, a trade bar and a piece of the ruined city that the party found in the mountains.  Whisperclick leaves a mug of water and some caltrops.  And Beau leaves a bunch of copper pieces, the skin of one of the dire beavers that had dammed up the river coming out of the mountains.  

Then our heroes head out, hoping to find their way back to the head that Naomi kicked into the bushes so many hours ago.

“And it’s still twilight,” notes Naomi.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes meet a horny satyr!


*And lawful good.

**Yeah, I stole the name of an ENWorlder(s) for the heads; I just loved the sound of “the Three Haligonians.”   You take inspiration where you find it.


----------



## the Jester

*Lost in Faerieland- the Conclusion*

The eternal twilight remains all around.  Our heroes don’t really feel tired; if they weren’t halflings and thus instinctively tied to their food, one wonders if they would grow hungry.  

Marching through the woods, more and more frightened by the oppressive shadows and the spooky movements they keep seeing out of the corners of their eyes, our heroes jump when they hear a song ringing out:

_”Alas and alack,
They’ve left the path;
No way back 
From faerie wrath.”_

Our heroes exchange a glance and, with a shrug, start following the voice.  

_”Alas and alack,
They’ve left the path;
Nor spell nor track
Will lead them back.”_

“Who’s there?” calls Whisperclick nervously.  The party passes through a screen of brush and trees, and in the midst of a small clearing they spy the singer- a satyr, his beer belly bulging, all too obviously virile.  He grins and waggles his eyebrows at Naomi, the only obvious female.

_“Alack and alas,
They’ve left the trail;
No faeries of grass
And they’ll surely fail.

No path nor pity
Nor friends nor guide,
No town or city
Roam far and wide.

In emerald woods
Forever they’re lost
Escape if they could
But won’t pay the cost.”_

“Nicely sung,” says Sandy politely.

“Thank you, friends!”  The rosy-cheeked satyr raises his wineskin and squeezes dark fluid into his mouth, smacking his lips.  “Ahhh, that meets my ends!”

“Do you... know us?” Naomi asks cautiously.

The satyr guffaws.  “Know you?  I’d say not, I’m afraid not; but it would be a lie to say I’ve not heard of you!  Indeed, all the woods are abuzz with word of you!”  He belches, clearly drunk.

“What’s your name?” asks Beau.

“I am Gorgle Deepsinger, named for my deep voice!”  He sings out a deep note.  “Isn’t that choice?”

“Say, maybe you can help us.”  Beau puts on his best smile.  “We’re lost.  Do you think you could guide us out of the woods?”

“Ahh, you ask my aid.  I’ll give you a piece of advice for a lady’s honor!”  He grins and winks at Naomi.  

“She’s not really a lady,” says Sandy at the same time that Beau comments, “Well, I don’t know that she has any honor.”

Naomi cocks an eyebrow.  “Sure, why not?  If you can take the ride, anyway.”

***

Gorgle proves nigh-insatiable.  With a little nudge from a _charm,_ Whisperclick lends a hand as well, and what ensues can only be described with the word Superporn.  With halflings.  Right.  Anyhow, we shall (mercifully) turn our heads away for a little while, and when we catch up with our heroes- surprise, surprise- it’s twilight.  Still and again. 

***

Though he shakes his head wondering why they’d want to leave, Gorgle is nonetheless more than happy to lead our heroes about.  The infuriatingly vague nature of time and place in the fey realms seems to confound him to a certain extent as well.  However, he claims he knows others that could help.  It is not until our heroes stumble upon a group of four exceptionally ugly gnomes that our heroes have any faith in the lascivious satyr.  But then he proves his worth.  The gnomes offer to escort the party to the edges of Faerieland.

Their escort goes on for what seems like forever.  Our heroes, though not needing sleep, do need to rest their legs; and so eventually they break for a rest period.  It is then that Badeye, the leader of the gnomes, demands that the group surrender one of their number to the cook pot. 

“Why does everyone here want to eat us?” Sandy grumbles.

But Gorgle intervenes.  He talks to Badeye, Bignose, Smackhead and Dropkick, persuading them to let the party go to the aid of the head that Lita had kicked into the woods.  

“Say, where is Lita?” wonders Sandy.  Nobody has seen her since the witch’s hut.

“Uh oh,” moans Timothy.

The satyr continues to argue with the gnomes.  Smackhead, especially, seems intent on devouring one of our heroes.  But eventually, with the threat of the head’s anger, Gorgle manages to dissuade them.  

Thus it is that, at last, escorted by the foul-tempered gnomes, our heroes tromp through the woods and find the head Lita had kicked off the path and away from its well, glaring angrily as they walk up.

“It wasn’t us!” wails Sandy.  “It was Lita!  And she’s gone now, we don’t know where!”

Carefully, they re-brush its hair, and then return it to the well in its bucket.  It snaps at them and growls the whole time.  “No hard feelings?” Timothy calls down the well.  His only answer is a wordless snarl.

With a shrug, our heroes retreat from the well.

“That’s going to put you in good with the Haligonians,” the satyr points out to the gnomes, who only scowl and salivate.

Badeye and his cadre lead the party to the edge of the river, and then take their leave.  After copulating with Naomi one last time, Gorgle does likewise.  Soon our heroes are passing downstream, stepping from rock to rock amongst the jumbled stones of the shore.  As they travel the trees around them begin to thin as the sky brightens.

“It’s dawn,” calls Whisperclick.  “It’s dawn!”

Our heroes whoop in joy.  The twilight is over!

_*Next Time:*_ A visit to a temple of Bleak!


----------



## the Jester

*Going to Church*

_*2/28/369 O.L.G., 2 p.m., the city of Ulborey, Strogass*_

Hey, look at that, there's a day and time again!  No more perpetual twilight!

Our heroes reach the elven town of Folthit, in the scattered edges of the Lofta Forest.  After securing lodging at the Red Griffon Inn, the party heads directly to a large temple of Bleak, determined to at least inquire about the possibilities of raising Martini from the dead.  “Maybe we can turn in his gem to them,” suggests Naomi.  “Remember?  After we helped the sheriff catch Manson we got those black gems as a reward*- he said that we could trade them for a favor at a temple of Bleak.”

“And maybe they...” Timothy mumbles, then hesitates. 

“What, Tim?” asks Sandy.  “Oh, is that okay?  Is it okay to call you Tim?”

“Yeah...” Timothy hesitates, his brow furrowing.  “Tim’s okay.  Just not Timmy, I’m not Timmy.”

“What are you thinking of having them do?” Sandy gently insists.

“Oh... the nice lady in the tree said I needed to be healed.** I was thinking... there’s a spell _heal..._  Maybe I can trade my gem for that.”

“That’s... a really good idea,” Beau slowly acknowledges.

***

_*The Dark Cathedral of Folthit*_

The Black Cardinal at the temple is one of the most powerful men on Strogass.  He is a puissant cleric of Bleak, dominator of many demons, master of many undead.  He is a dangerous man, not to be crossed or trifled with.  

When the opportunity to gain two _stones of oblivion_ of the largest size comes before him, he does not hesitate.  And the asking price for each of them is low- for one, the fools only want a _heal!_

Certainly, he could kill the halfling band carrying the stones and try to take them; but that is impossible, as he well knows.  A _stone of oblivion_ must be given freely or it will disintegrate in a puff of vapor.  He could intimidate the fools into giving their stones over, but one never knows when that fatal line will be crossed and the stone will discorporate.  No, better to bargain fairly for the stones, much as it galls him.

The _stones of oblivion_ wouldn’t be worth much if it wasn’t for their capacity to aid in the construction of certain magic items- generally of the type to hold a keen interest for clerics of Bleak.  They could absorb much of the cost in personal energy of certain exceptionally vile processes that could imbue the darkest properties upon an enchanted item.  

Thus, when our heroes walk away from the temple, Martini walks with them, hale and hearty, feeling good as new.  And Timothy walks with a strange caution, as if he’s never seen the world before.  He has been _healed._  The strange form of autistic madness afflicting him is gone.   

***

_*3/15/369 O.L.G., the city of Ulborey*_

Our heroes’ arrival in the city of Ulborey leaves them amazed.  None of them have ever been to a city of this size.  Sitting along both sides of the Crack, a tremendous tear in the land of Strogass, the city is famous for its salt- so famous that many people call it the City of Salt.  

Well, our halfling band of adventurers isn’t really interested in the salt.  They’re interested mainly in leaving, and since the Crack opens up directly into the ocean, they figure they’re at just about the right place for it. 

Our heroes stay several weeks in Ulborey before suitable passage leaves, with them on board.  They are heading to adventure.  They have signed on board a vessel seeking to recover lost treasure- a sunken trade vessel sank amongst some islands with a cargo of valuable Peshan spices.  They have been removed from the wreckage and all evidence points to them being on one of the six islands surrounding the wreck.  If recovered, the spices could fetch a heavy trade bar, that’s for sure.  

So it is that our heroes’ dramatic island adventures begin.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes reach the as-yet nameless islands as they begin their quest for the cargo of the _Deep Lobster!_

*Back here.

**A _heal,_ of course, cures insanity.  When this first came up as a possible plot element I found it utterly fascinating, and I suspect the player did too. (Comments, Brain?)


----------



## Brain

the Jester said:
			
		

> “Yeah...” Timothy hesitates, his brow furrowing.  “Tim’s okay.  Just not Timothy, I’m not Timothy.”



Tim and Timothy were okay, but not the dreaded Timmy.



			
				the Jester said:
			
		

> **A _heal,_ of course, cures insanity.  When this first came up as a possible plot element I found it utterly fascinating, and I suspect the player did too. (Comments, Brain?)



Yes, I hadn't really considered it when I made the character, but after realizing that Timothy could be _healed_, I had some thinking to do about how he would respond and act after.  He's still got a 4 wisdom after being healed, but is much better adjusted to the world around him, and no longer gets horrible visions of blood and such when someone says Timmy. (Tied to an incident in his youth and his real halfling parents)

As an aside, we seem to be missing a bit where we ended up kind of far away after leaving the faerie realm.  I recall a visit to an elven city (I think the Bleak church was there) and then a river journey where Timothy got tattooed on the way to Ulborrey.


----------



## the Jester

Brain said:
			
		

> As an aside, we seem to be missing a bit where we ended up kind of far away after leaving the faerie realm.  I recall a visit to an elven city (I think the Bleak church was there) and then a river journey where Timothy got tattooed on the way to Ulborrey.




Ah, you're correct- the church was in the elven city at the edge of the Lofta Forest.  I'll edit and fix that.  As to the river journey, I just skipped over that- there were no encounters or anything.  Granted, the huge tattoo covering Timothy's arm and side of the dryad and her tree took place during that journey, but I don't recall anything else of interest.


----------



## hippiejedi2

*An Account from Beau*

Our hungry band of adventurers were lost in the accursed fey forrest, where amongst other unforgivable crimes, I later learned they curdle ones milk or so I hear.  Unfortunately we had no milk to curdle, but that's a different story.  The unstable kid, Timmothy said Martini had visit him in dreams and that he can be _resurrected.  _Timmothy claims that the stone set within Martini's helm can be bartered for his return, the same helm i looted from his corpse after the gar fish, the same stone I pryed out of the helm before testing it on non-Halfling companions.  Those fools believed me when I told them I knew nothing of the stone, but I fear that somehow the unstable Timmothy had figured me out.  I knew how to play that game, so in response, Martini "visit" me in my dreams and instructed me to convey to the party the miraculous return of the gem to the worthy halfling after we got out of the fey forrest.

Some tyme later at an inn in the elf village I called Timmothy's bluff and stalemated our game, and hence determined he was the worthy individual and slipped the gem in his pocket. I subsequently spoke of dreams in general expecting one of the other saps to recall the foreboding of my dream, and since it was my plan it of course worked, I believe it was the kobold federico who recalled my dream.  Martini was resurrected albeit somehow more pusilanimous in his rebirth, perhaps his helmet will rekindle the fire in him I knew.  Timmothy figuered out my game and I have kept tabs on his, I have watched and listened to him in battle and there exists something in me that requires a physical manifestaion, it has always been there, but witnessing Timothy I now know it is only a matter of tyme.  The high point of our stay in the elf village is of course elf-booty and I have fully given some lucky elf-chick all of myy halfling might.


----------



## the Jester

First of all, thanks to hippiejedi2 for that post- it's cool when the pcs add their perspective to things.

Now, an update:

_*4/7/369 O.L.G., 2 p.m.*_

“Islands ho!” cries the man in the crow’s nest.

Sailors who were idle only seconds before suddenly begin bustling about, doing sailor things.  To most of our halfling heroes, this is incredibly baffling.  Most of them are, if the truth be told, a little afraid of the water; it would never occur to your average halfling to join the crew of a ship.  The very thought would make your average halfling shudder.

Except for stouts.

Sandy is in his element, although truth be told again, he’s never sailed the sea before, just rivers.  Ahh, but it’s so big and heavy!  The waves in the storm that rose up were immense, and the turgid flatness of the sea when they’d been becalmed were eerie reminders that the sea was mighty, far mightier than any ship or vessel.  It could smash them at whim, or leave them stranded and unable to move.  Though it moves him, the sea also frightens Sandy.

At one point during the trip, while they were becalmed, Beau had suggested they take a swim.  Sandy had stopped him.  “Trust me on this,” he had told Beau, “_never_ swim in the ocean.”

“Them’s the islands,” growls the captain, poking Sandy out of his reverie.  “That’s where the _Deep Lobster_ went down.”

The ship sails in to the midst of the islands, six small tropical islands forming a small ring.  In the middle of them all, a ship carrying precious spices went down.  The wreck has been searched already, and the spices- which were sealed and might well have survived- have been removed, presumably to one of the islands.  Furthermore, the captain claims that there is a black diamond the size of a fist on the islands somewhere.  It is for the spices that our heroes have come here; but a fist-sized diamond... well!  That wouldn’t be anything to sneeze at, that’s for sure!

Given a rowboat the next morning, our heroes pick an isle and start rowing.  

***

_*4/9/369 O.L.G., 8:30 a.m., the first isle*_

With a yawn, Beau comes awake.  He scratches his head, then drags himself out of his bedroll.  “Good morning, Timmy,” he says, inwardly snickering.

“Good morning,” Timothy replies nonchalantly.

Beau scratches his head again.  Timothy doesn’t seem bothered at all....

“Hey, Timmy, how did you sleep?” he tries.

“Hey, don’t!” calls a muffled Sandy, sitting up and stretching.  “You don’t want to set him off!  You should be nice to Timothy- Timothy, it’s okay,” he soothes.  

“Uh, okay,” says Timothy, confused but not upset.

“Whoa,” breathes Beau.  _He _is_ healed,_ he thinks.

***

_*Noon*_

Our heroes hack their way into the jungles of the isle.  The air is hot and humid, and of them all only Jawbreaker and Federico seem to really enjoy it.  Soon they find an empty sod hut.  Jawbreaker pokes it with a stick, then grunts and drops to one knee, scanning the ground for tracks.*

”Come,” he says after a moment.  “Jawbreaker find them.”

The others follow behind him.  He intently scans for signs of passage as the group moves along, and soon he leads them to a small village of similar sod huts.  But again, there appears to be nobody there. 

“What do you think lives here?” Beau asks. 

“Goblins, gnomes maybe.”  Jawbreaker shrugs.  “Small like us.  Not halflings, feet too small.”  His eyes catch something in the village.  “Let’s look.”

The party finds the village as empty on closer inspection as it was on first impression.  However, one hut appears partially burned, and around it Jawbreaker finds a muddle of tracks: humanoid, livestock, some sort of big cat.  And he finds a few shed red scales.

“Scales!” exclaims Beau.  “Like, a dragon?”  He glances fearfully at the burn marks and gulps.

Jawbreaker shrugs.  “Not sure.  Could be.”  He frowns and looks around.  “We go high ground, look around.”

The island rises to a central peak- it looks volcanic to Martini.  The party begins tromping upslope towards it, rising out of the thick vegetation of the jungle.  Insects buzz around them and sweat drips down the halflings’ faces.  Federico loves the warmth, but all the climbing and walking is draining his meager strength.  Our heroes stop to rest and snack frequently.

Eventually our heroes near the top of the isle and approach a series of slabs of stone leaning together.  “Hey, is there something moving in there?” asks Beau- and suddenly something flies up to the top of the boulders, emerging in a flash of fur and scales.  It is a weird cross between dragon, lion and goat, with three heads, formidable-looking claws and hissing breath.  A terrible smell of sulfur and burning metal follows it.  Its great draconian wings beat mightily, thrusting it through the air, and its dragon head belches out a blast of flame that catches Sandy, Beau and Timothy in its area.  They all scream as it burns their flesh, but all are stalwart; none fall.  

Timothy stands fast in front of it.  “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” he cries, casting _shield._  Meanwhile most of the others start pelting it with missiles.  Jawbreaker, unfortunately, is on the wrong side of the stones to reach the beast; he can only rush along the perimeter hoping to reach it.  As he jogs along he pulls out his bow and strings it in a single motion.  

Beau, standing back, fires his own bow.  Over and over, he sinks small arrows into the monster’s body until it is bristling like a porcupine.  

Sandy steps in to flank the monster with Timothy, thrusting with his spear, but the monster turns its full attention on him, and to his dismay Sandy realizes that Timothy isn’t even holding a weapon.  With a groan, he tumbles away as the monster snaps and claws at him, tearing a chunk from his shoulder with its goat bite.  He tries to get some distance, but it pursues even as Timothy tries to roast it with a _flaming sphere._  Jawbreaker, shouting angrily, continues to try to find the chimera as it circles away from him.  Finally, he stops in frustration and climbs up the rocks.  From the top he can see, and he starts shooting his bow at the monster.  Unfortunately, his arrows go wide again and again, or bounce harmlessly off the terrible monster’s scaly hide.

Not so Beau’s.  His natural dexterity makes him extraordinarily accurate, and though he isn’t especially strong, he has an eye for the weak spots in the creature’s defense.  Finally, disgusted, Jawbreaker climbs back down off the rock and gets out his spear.  But before he can use it, there’s a terrific *CRACK!* and a _lightning bolt_ snares the creature, arcing out from the wand in Timothy’s hand.  The monster’s three heads give out a trio of cries of pain, and the chimera struggles down from the air, barely avoiding a completely disastrous crash, and collapses. 

“Wow,” says Sandy, wincing as he probes his wounds.

“Bah!” snorts Jawbreaker.  “Jawbreaker not even get to hurt it!”  He snorts angrily.  “Stupid monster!”

***

_*2 p.m.*_

Interestingly, a search finds that the chimera was wearing a collar with a monogrammed ‘S’.  Moreover, there’s a secret trap door in the ground in the center of the leaning stone slabs, and it’s big enough that the chimera could have fit through it easily.

“What do you think is down there?” Beau murmurs, almost to himself.

“’S.’”  Sandy grins.

What they find is a group of goblins living in a small warren of caves.  After a fairly large engagement in which when they slay the goblin chief another goblin immediately announces that he’s chief now, and slowly the violence winds down with the goblins dead or fled.  Our heroes, too, are bloodied and battered; and they certainly realize that going forward might prove more difficult than going back and resting for a while.  

Unfortunately, as it turns out, they are incredibly wrong.

_*Next Time:*_ How incredibly wrong are they?  Come and see!


*No, he didn’t take a level of ranger- he took Track as a feat.  He was torn up about whether he should take it or Cleave, but he ended up very happy with his choice (I believe- maybe he’ll poke in and comment, you never know).


----------



## the Jester

The party:

Jawbreaker- wild halfilng barbarian 3, CG
Timothy- tallfellow halfling sorcerer 5, CG
Beau- lightfoot halfling rogue 4, CE
Sandy- stout halfling rogue 3/fighter 2, LE
Martini- lightfoot halfling ranger 2/fighter 2, CG (since coming back to life)
Naomi- ahem, er, halfling psion 4, LE
Whisperclick- gnome rogue 2, LG (since donning the helm)
Thelonious- human ranger 2/fighter 1, NG


----------



## Brain

You've been on an update spree lately, I'm loving it!

It's a really common thing for Timothy to step up to protect people.  He's developed into a front-line sorcerer, which is somewhat bizarre.  If only he had enough sense to hold his dagger and flank with people.


----------



## omrob

Brain said:
			
		

> If only he had enough sense to hold his dagger and flank with people.




Ahhh but the devastating part of Timothy's protective stance is the dagger torch combo! Especially the roleplayed the knees-bent arms-out stance of ACTION! 


Love the Naomi Satyr lovin - i had no idea - looks like this party is getting its own Sybele.


----------



## the Jester

All right, given all this feedback I'm gonna see if I can squeeze out another update before I have to go to work.   I'm trying hard to make progress towards being caught up- if one I could get caught up, I'm reasonably certain I could keep caught up!

Fat chance of that, though...


----------



## the Jester

*Hurricane*

_*4/9/369 O.L.G., 3 p.m.*_

Our heroes emerge from the hidden trap door in the middle of the leaning stone slabs to fat drops of rain.  “Maybe we can go back to the village,” suggests Sandy.  

“Goblin village,” Jawbreaker points out, shaking his head.  Though they slew a bugbear, two hobgoblins and five goblins, our heroes are fairly sure that there are plenty more below- not to mention S, whoever that is.  “Stupid goblins maybe come back.  We go to hut.”

It seems like a good plan, especially with a storm kicking up; but as our heroes head into the jungle the roaring of the wind is picking up even more.  The clouds have turned black as Bleak, and Jawbreaker keeps frowning as he peers up at the sky.  

“This bad storm,” he yells over the increasing scream of the wind.  “We need cover!”  

Visibility drops off markedly; the rain is coming down in torrents.  The wind is so severe that several of our heroes are almost blown away.  Finally, the halflings stumble back to the village, where several straw roofs have already been torn away from the little goblin huts.  Huddling together to keep from flying off with the wind, our heroes struggle into a hut and do what they can to build it up against the storm.  Water streams in through the gaps in the roof that continue to tear wider with the hurricane-force winds.

“We wait here!” Jawbreaker shouts over the storm.

***

_*4/11/369 O.L.G., 10 a.m.*_

At last, after two days, the storm abates.  It fades into a heavy rain, with gusty winds, but the greatest part of its fury seems spent.  “Well,” Sandy points out, “we’re right near the goblins still...”

Timothy says, “Maybe we should just leave the goblins alone.”

“What!”  Sandy is astounded.  “You’re- look, that’s absurd.  Everyone knows that you don’t leave the goblins along.  Never swim in the ocean and never leave the goblins alone.”

Timothy furrows his brow.  “Well, it seemed like they were okay goblins, but their chief’s advisor was bad... they were scared of him.  Maybe we can get rid of him and help the goblins.”

Jawbreaker snorts.  “Goblins no need help, need axe.”  He grunts.

Sandy says, “Listen, if you leave the goblins alone, the next thing you know they’re stealing babies!  That’s no good.”

“Oh, no!” Timothy the ever-gullible exclaims.  “We can’t let them do that.”

“Right,” Sandy says cheerfully.

”I hope the boat’s okay,” comments Beau.

***

_*Noon*_

So our heroes go on another foray, striking again into the goblin warrens.  This time the goblinoids seem better prepared for them; they respond more quickly, and in greater numbers, but even with a dozen of them arrayed against our heroes the goblins are in trouble.  Jawbreaker chortles gleefully as he hews through red-orange flesh, and soon they storm through a door and Sandy stumbles right into a brief one-on-one skirmish with a bugbear nearly as wide as he is tall.  Sandy’s feeling awfully pressed while nobody else really pays attention, until finally Timothy takes notice and a _shocking grasp_ ends the conflict.  Then a final door falls, and our heroes find themselves facing a human in worn robes.  He cries out as Beau shoots his breast with an arrow, and in seconds there’s total confusion as he lets several wildly-colored parrots out of cages and they begin flying around unleashing _color sprays._  A _lightning bolt_ from the human scorches Jawbreaker, but Sandy leaps clear of the crackling electricity.

There’s utter confusion for a couple of seconds as the wild colors spray all across the room, but then one of them drops with a squawk, skewered by one of Beau’s arrows.  He turns his attention to the other one, but it zigs when he counted on it zagging, and his arrow flies wide.  _Magic missiles_ race from Timothy at the wizard, meanwhile, and Sandy tumbles in.  “Wait!” the human cries, but the stout’s longspear doesn’t hesitate: it plunges into the man’s belly, impaling him.  The wizard falls, blood vomiting from his mouth, and twitches for a few moments.  Finally, another volley of _magic missiles_ finishes the _color spraying_ parrot.

Wiping their brows, our heroes commence looting.

***

_*5 p.m.*_

“Maybe the storm changed their plans?” Timothy says hopefully.

Jawbreaker laughs mournfully.  There is no sign of the ship.

***

_*4/13/369 O.L.G., 7 p.m., near the top of the island*_

Our heroes have found bits of flotsam and jetsam over the last few days- sailcloth, pieces of a mast, smashed timbers.  Nothing promising; no sign of their ship- at least, not intact.

So they have once again climbed above the goblin village, heading to a high vantage point; but to no avail.  There is no sign of their boat.  

However, as the sun drops below the western sea, a lithe, beautiful figure steps out of the shadows and beckons to Beau.  Staring at her pale eyes, Beau gulps.  He feels as if he could fall right in to those eyes, those depths... Then he shakes his head.  “Ahh!” he cries, “She’s trying to charm me!”  

The beauty’s face contorts in rage.  She hisses.

Beau draws his sword and stabs, but the blade glances from her form.  He squeals in fear, and suddenly Jawbreaker is there, his axe swinging as he pounds at the pale woman.  She snarls silently and falls back, but Jawbreaker is unrelenting.  His axe slices into her head, and for a second blood sprays- but then it all turns to mist.  The woman collapses into a vaporous cloud and is gone.

Worriedly, Jawbreaker pokes the vanishing mist with a stick.

_*Next Time:*_ Two very important individuals become known to our heroes.  Watch as they meet Dogtooth, whose name has since been there battle cry!  See as they name a chief!  And wonder- as Jawbreaker takes a wife!!!


----------



## the Jester

*Enter Dogtooth!*

_*4/14/369 O.L.G., 11:45 a.m.*_

Our heroes, at something of a loss as to what to do, have moved away from the island’s heights.  The beauteous woman who turned to mist seems like a decidedly unhappy sort of thing to deal with.  What if she comes back?  What if she succeeds at charming or controlling someone?  No- without a doubt, it’s time to head down slope.

The party is traveling along a gully, with Jawbreaker stopping to check for traps periodically.  He does so now, actually dropping down and sniffing at the ground in one place, and frowning.  Motioning for the others to follow him, he creeps off the gully and finds a small area enclosed by brush- within which is a ragged human wearing only a torn and threadbare pair of breeches.  

“Human!” cries Jawbreaker, and the man scrambles up, picking up a stick as if he could ward off a barbarian halfling with it.

“Arr, who are ye?” the man scowls at them.

Jawbreaker laughs.  “Who _you_ be?”

“I be Dogtooth, arr!  And I be here because of a shipwreck.”

“Us too,” says Timothy mournfully.

“This place is dangerous,” Dogtooth opines.  “Arr, the center of the isles here eats ships like you all eat food.  No good, no good at all.  Arr!  And how long have ye been trapped here?”

“Oh...” Beau furrows his brow.  “Just a few days.  You?”

“Arr,” says Dogtooth, “a little longer indeed.”

***

The group hits it off with Dogtooth, and besides, a salty dog like him might well be very helpful in making their way from these damned isles.  The group gladly offers to allow him to join them.  He tells them, in turn, that there are goblins galore on the island.  “They aren’t too bad, arr, but ya never know, so’s I try to stay out of sight, ya know,” he declares.  

“Maybe they have boats,” suggests Timothy.

“You trust goblin boat?” Jawbreaker guffaws.

“It can’t hurt to check.”  Beau smiles.  “Maybe they have a boat they took from someone else, and we can take it from them in turn.”

Our heroes set out for the coast, and then along it, looking for a village likely to hold whatever craft in boat making the goblins might have.  Soon they spot a group of the ruddy-skinned humanoids in the distance, casting nets for fish.  The party tries to stay somewhat out of their field of view for the time being, moving amongst the trees of the jungle.  

Then a baying sound reaches our heroes as they advance.  “Wolves,” Jawbreaker snaps, pulling his axe free.  In seconds the noise of a woman screaming and crashing through the brush comes through to our heroes.  

“Arr,” says Dogtooth, and shimmies up a tree.  He is, after all, unarmed except for a stick.

The party readies themselves.  Then a female goblin bursts out of the woods, shrieking in fear.  Her eyes grow even bigger and more frightened as she takes in the view of our heroes standing before her with weapons ready.  But there are wolves on her heels, so she doesn’t hesitate, she just rushes past them and starts trying to clamber up a tree of her own.

The wolf pack bursts into view, a half-dozen strong.  They rush forward, howling and barking, but Jawbreaker crouches behind a tree.  As the first wolf lunges past following the she-goblin, he strikes out and hacks it nearly in two!  Suddenly arrows are whizzing out from Beau, and Timothy has created a _flaming sphere_.  Even Dogtooth, in his tree, throws unripe fruits at the canine heads of the party’s adversaries.  The howling and harrowing barks are replaced by startled yelps and growls of fear and pain.  The halflings tear into the wolves, and though they are outnumbered on the front rank, they strongly overpower the pack.  Near the end of the battle, a small band of goblin warriors, pursuing the wolf pack, rushes into view, but they’re too late to do much work.  Only one of the wolves so much as escapes.

The goblin woman shakily descends, crying out in goblin in a grateful tone.  “She says thanks,” Timothy translates unnecessarily, but he’s interrupted by one of the male goblins. He seems very angry and he’s shouting in Jawbreaker’s face.

“What he say?”  Jawbreaker is clearly annoyed.

”He says you’re trying to steal his wife,” Timothy translates.  

Jawbreaker bursts out laughing.  His voice dripping disdain, he says, “Jawbreaker no want goblin wife!  Stupid goblins.  They lucky Jawbreaker not kill them all!”

The goblin rants back at the halflings after Timothy translates this message to him.  “He says he wants to fight you,” the sorcerer tells Jawbreaker.

”Bah!”  In a single clean sweep of his axe, Jawbreaker decapitates the goblin.  “There!  Jawbreaker win fight.  Stupid goblins.”

The she-goblin grabs Jawbreaker’s arm and looks down, biting her lip.  She murmurs, in tongue of her people, “You are my husband now,” but only Timothy understands her. 

Still, the message becomes clear soon enough.  When it does, Jawbreaker can only repeat, “Stupid, stupid goblins.”

***

When the party goes to the goblin village they are feted, with Jawbreaker treated as their chief.  Somehow this sticks, and from this point on, as often as not, he is referred to as Chief Jawbreaker.  Timothy rapidly installs himself as the chief’s advisor- a brilliant move, given his incredible wisdom.*

The goblins were long afraid of a terrible vampire that lived in the volcano, but in recent times a stranger came and slew it.  Still, the stranger missed some of the master vampire’s spawn.  These deadly things still haunt the mountain, or at least one of them does.  Timothy presses the group to check it out, but no one else really wants to aid the goblins.  While the goblins set to building them a boat, the party explores some more of the island, fighting off another, larger wolf pack as they do.  They head into the north half of the island, into a gravely land covered with sparse scrubs, where they discover that ankhegs are rather common.  Our heroes easily fend off the pair of insect-monsters that come out to abuse them at various points as they explore, and in the middle somewhere they meet another goblin.  This one is a little weird- he lives in a rude hut alone on this side of the island, he has bluish-purple skin and Grulka (that’s Chief Jawbreaker’s wife’s name) recognizes him instantly.  

“He is named Red,” she whispers to Timothy, the only one who can understand her.  “He has strange powers!”  She makes a sign to ward off the evil eye.

Red, on the other hand, finds the party to be a little strange themselves; he’s never seen halflings, humans or anything quite like them.  He is very curious about them; and when asked about his ‘strange powers’ he gladly demonstrates, forming a blade of psychic energy from his hand.  This impresses the halflings, so our heroes, wanting all the help they can get, ask him to join them.  He shrugs; at least briefly, he will do so. 

***

_*4/23/369 O.L.G., 2 p.m.*_

The slope of the volcano rises before them.

Whisperclick, Martini and Timothy survey it gravely.  “We’re taking an awful risk for some goblins,” Whisperclick points out.

“They _are_ building us a boat.  It’s not like they aren’t helping us.”  Martini spreads his hands.

“Yeah- and besides,” Timothy says, “it’s the right thing to do.”

Jawbreaker shakes his head.  “Chief Jawbreaker listen to advisor for now, but if advice turns out to be bad, may need new advisor.”

“No, it’s okay, Chief Jawbreaker,” Timothy reassures him.  “Remember how easily you beat her before?  It’ll be fine.”

Jawbreaker scowls.  Our heroes begin their ascent.

_*Next Time:*_ Into the vampire’s lair!

*Of 4, that is.


----------



## Brain

Ahh good ol' Dogtooth.  Timothy's wisdom was 4 by that time I think (started at 3, stat increase at level 4)  He got the advisor idea from the guy who was the evil advisor on the other island.  He wanted to make sure that Jawbreaker had _good_ advice rather than bad, like from that other advisor.  

the Jester:  Awesome job updating.  I think you can catch up.   Do it


----------



## omrob

the Jester said:
			
		

> _*4/14/369 O.L.G., 11:45 a.m.*_
> 
> ?I be Dogtooth, arr!  And I be here because of a shipwreck.?




Let me be the first player to throw out "+1 for Dogtooth!"


----------



## the Jester

*The Return of Thelonious!*

_*3 p.m., most of the way up the volcano*_

Near the top of the mountain, Jawbreaker finds the lead our heroes need.  “Tracks,” he grunts, and the group troops after him as he follows them along a loosely-soiled slope.  Soon the group finds a doorway.  Grulka and Dogtooth back away, leaving this part to the professionals, promising to wait outside.  Grulka is beaming at her husband like he’s the biggest goblin hero of all time, except he’s a halfling and doesn’t really care about stupid goblins.  Martini and Whisperclick move up next to the door and the ranger throws it open. 

Unfortunately, a spray of flaming oil shoots out!  Martini yelps in pain and surprise and the smell of burning skin and hair wafts over to the others.  Naomi starts salivating.  Whisperclick throws himself aside, managing to dodge away from the oil completely, but Martini ignites like a sheet of paper!

Beyond the doorway, hordes of rats start swarming out and towards our heroes.  Martini, screaming as he burns, stops, drops and rolls, and the flames on him flicker and waver.  Most of them die.  He spasms and shrieks as he extinguishes the rest; meanwhile, Naomi directs a _swarm of crystals_  The rats squeak and squeal as they are slain or dispersed.  

The others help bat out the remaining flames on Martini.  He gasps in pain, but stands ready to fight on.  Beyond the door the party traipses through several claustrophobic rooms before finally arriving at another door.  Again, Martini pushes it open- this time, half-expecting another trap, with a wince.  But there is no trap.

Instead, her back to them, there is the beautiful female vampire our heroes fought once before.  She is in the midst of a bedroom, standing before a mirror in which she throws no reflection.  But our heroes do.  Surely she can see them.

Martini rushes forward with a yell as Red steps in and his psychic blade extrudes from his hand.  The others begin to push through the door as well.

Poised dramatically, the vampire spawn whirls and catches Whisperclick’s eyes with hers.  She smiles a crimson smile, and the gnome’s eyes go blank.  He whirls and attacks Naomi, who jumps back with a yelp.  “Hey!” she shouts. 

Meanwhile, Martini leaps forward with a great two-handed blow of his greatsword.  He feels an eldritch resistance to his blow, and though it should have dropped a normal woman, she only grunts slightly.  Then she leaps lithely on top of her bed and strikes at the charging Chief Jawbreaker.  He yells, slamming his axe into the bed at her feet, but misses her legs; however, he throws her off-balance enough that she misses him too.

Whisperclick keeps trying to stab Naomi until she gives him a _psionic suggestion_ to go kill the vampire.  He swings away for a moment, torn by conflicting commands, and seems unable to make a decision.

Timothy hurls volleys of _magic missiles_ at the she-vampire, then sets her bed alight with a _flaming sphere._  She leaps over Jawbreaker and swings at him again, but his armor takes the blow intended for his body.  Martini thrusts in and stabs her again, then while she recovers he swings another mighty blow into her chest!  Blood sprays all over the room, sizzling in the flames of the bed, even as Red cries out in dismay as his psychic blow fails to deal any damage to the woman that they’re fighting.  Her mocking laughter taunts him.  Then she whirls and lands a blow across Naomi, who winces as she feels her energy siphon away.  The vampire’s wounds are healing noticeably.

“Ragh!” shouts Jawbreaker.  He casts his axe down, lifts the flaming bed, and slams it into the vampiress, pinning her against the wall!  “JAWBREAKER!!!!” he howls at the top of his lungs.  She hisses, struggling against the raging barbarian’s strength, and suddenly Whisperclick steps in, stabbing harshly at the Chief.  Jawbreaker howls in rage but keeps the vampire pinned long enough for Naomi to manifest a _swarm of crystals_ on her.  Then she dissolves into mist and reforms only an instant later, free of the burning bed.  Jawbreaker lets it crash to the ground and scoops up his axe again, casually parrying another of Whisperclick’s stabs.  “You stop,” he growls warningly at the gnome.

Then, suddenly, another _swarm of crystals_ is all around him.  It blasts Jawbreaker, Whisperclick and the vampire, and when his eyes clear, only he is still standing.  

“Oh no!” cries Timothy, “Whisperclick!”  He rushes to bind up the gnome’s wounds, saving his life- albeit barely.

“Quick, we need to find its coffin,” says Martini.  “Everyone knows you need to stake a vampire in its coffin.” 

It takes our heroes less than ten minutes to find the coffin in question.  Within it, eyes closed, still as death, is the woman.  A jagged wooden stake is quickly pounded into her chest.  Her eyes bulge open for an instant, and then she is still.

“We’re pretty beat up,” gasps Naomi, limping from the stabs that Whisperclick had delivered to her.  “Maybe we should go back to the goblin village in case there are more of them.”

“But the goblins told us that there was only one left,” Timothy objects.

“And it’s a hell of a climb,” Martini points out, wincing as he bandages his own wounds.

The party searches around but finds no sign of any other living (well, existing) vampire.  Timothy, as the chief’s advisor, advises resting here; Jawbreaker announces his decision.  “We camp here,” he tells his tribe.

***

_*4/24/369 O.L.G., 8 a.m., the beach near the goblin village*_ 

“I wonder what all the commotion is this morning,” remarks Beau.  

Woken a little early by a lot of goblin chatter, our heroes have trooped out to the beach to see what’s up.  There is a body washed up on shore- a human!  As our heroes watch, it twitches and moans, which sets the goblins to murmuring fiercely.  A few have their spears cautiously readied.  

“It can’t be,” murmurs Martini, “but I think it is- Thelonious?”

With a groan the human drags himself upright.  “Martini?” he gasps.  “Then you’re alive!  I was so worried...”  He nearly collapses. 

“Let’s help him to the village,” Naomi snaps.  “Some food will do us good.”  She’s salivating again.  “I mean, him.”  She picks at her teeth.

Thelonious, it turns out, has been a few weeks behind our heroes for months.  He reached Ulborey a few weeks after they did, and left a few days behind them.  But then a hurricane came up- “We know the one you mean,” Naomi assures him- and his ship was dashed to splinters.  “I feared the worst,” he groans.  “So many of my clan have died- it’s terrible- I want to help protect you all, my adopted kinfolk.”

“Well, you’re just in time,” Timothy says.  “The goblins are building us a boat... we’ll be leaving in a few days!”

“Thank the gods,” Thelonious sighs.  “I was getting so tired of trying to catch up with you!”

“Well,” says Naomi, “you’ve caught up.  Now don’t get killed or anything, or we’ll have to eat you!”  She grins and chuckles as if joking.

_*Next Time:*_ A gnome on a rope!  Will Whisperclick survive??


----------



## the Jester

_*4/27/369 O.L.G., 2 p.m.*_ 

Timothy and the goblins keep screeching at each other in that hideous tongue that the goblins use.  _Disgusting,_ thinks Naomi, but keeps it to herself.  She feels another pain in her chest.  Psychosomatic, no doubt- a symptom of what she has lost.  She can feel the void where it used to be within her; powers she can no longer use, things she had understood that now have slipped away...

She curses the vampire under her breath.*

“Oh, Naomi, the goblins can’t help you,” Timothy reports at last.  Naomi feels crushing disappointment wash over her.  “But,” he goes on, and hope kindles, “they say that there is a strange temple to the ancestors where strange things happen, and maybe they can help you.”

“Where is this place?”

“On the next island.”  He smiles.  “And they’ll be done building our boat tomorrow or the next day!”

“Great,” she mutters.

***

_*4/28/369 O.L.G., 3 p.m.*_

“I think there’s a ship out there!  Hey, I think I say a ship!”  Beau is very excited.  He gathers his friends quickly.  “It was behind one of the other islands, but I swear I saw it!”

“Could be, arr,” agrees Dogtooth.  “I’ve seen several vessels in the time I’ve been here.  But beware!  Arr!!  Ain’t no good reason to be here, and any man savvy enough with a ship t’ navigate these waters is bound to be formidable, if ye gets my drift.”

“Uh,” answers Timothy, “what?”

“Pirates, lad,” Dogtooth growls.  “They be pirates.”

Beau’s enthusiasm wilts at that.

***

*4/29/369 O.L.G., 6 a.m.*

Bright and early our heroes set out across the water in their goblin-made canoe.  It has outriggers on either side to add stability, but it was built by _goblins._  Our heroes doubt whether it will last too long in a storm.  

“Arr, and don’t forget- the waters in the center of these islands chew ships like tabaccy,” Dogtooth growls.  “Arr.”  

It takes our heroes about six hours to make it to the next island, but the weather is fair and they snack extensively on the way.  Dogtooth teaches them some old sea shanties, and the group sings happily on their way. 

It starts to sprinkle a little when they finally reach the next isle.  The party spots a large goblin village but chooses to avoid it for the time being.  Dogtooth steers their little boat around an extrusion of the shore and along a cliff, hopefully out of view.

“I wonder if we’ll find those spices,” Beau says suddenly.

“Yeah, and isn’t there a big diamond or something somewhere on these islands?” Naomi adds.

“It’s a lot of land to search,” Whisperclick points out. 

Naomi shakes her head.  “I just want to find these ancestors and get healed.”

***

_*4 p.m.*_

The party circumnavigates almost the entire island, and to their chagrin the only place where a landing could be attempted is near the goblins.  “Arr, that be no good,” Dogtooth remarks.  Grulka, cringing next to Jawbreaker, keeps her goblin hand on his arm. 

The party elects instead to attempt to send a man up the cliff.  There are mangroves with their great roots; the rise in only about 30’.  Dogtooth does his best to steady the boat, though the sea is getting rougher here.  The party debates who is going to climb up first to secure a rope.  “Halflings always die when we start climbing,” objects Thelonious.  Whisperclick first volunteers, then chickens out.  Finally, Thelonious, annoyed with the level of indecision, starts clambering up.  He ties the rope to himself and then swims over to the cliff.  The sea threatens to pound him against it, but he manages to clamber up and out of the waves.  He reaches the top of the little cliff and fastens the end securely to a stump.

Then a terrible spider monster attacks him from behind, and he has nowhere to go.  He fires his bow as it closes on him, then begins a dance of steel with the hideous orange monster.  “Hold the rope below!  Monster!  Hurry, help!!” he shouts.

Whisperclick, meanwhile, studies the situation and starts to clamber up the rope.  Unfortunately, he slips into the water with a splash!  “Fool, you should let me secure it first!” Naomi cries, tying off the lower end with that salty dog Dogtooth’s help.  

The others start firing bows and clambering up the rope.  Thelonious darts around, firing arrow after arrow at the creature at point blank range.  It squeals and hisses, rushing in to take more and more bites out of the human ranger.  And then- just as it moves forward to attack the archer again, Jawbreaker darts in, crashing into the monster’s side with a heaving blow of his axe.  Black ichor spurts everywhere, and the thing spasms, then curls up and rolls over like a dead spider.

“Sheesh,” says Thelonious shakily.  “That... that could have killed me.”

“I’m so sorry,” says Whisperclick.  “I should have gone first.”  A strange lassitude seems to have come over him since he donned Martini’s old helmet.  

***

_*6 p.m.*_

Our heroes move upslope towards the center of the island, having already noted the presence of some ruins near the center.  They slay a goblin on the way up, and eventually must take their rest as the fat summer sun goes down and night opens its eyes.  

***

_*5/1/369 O.L.G., Noon*_

Finally, after several days of travel, our heroes reach the ruins of the ancestors.  For some strange reason, the gnome ties a rope to himself before entering.  The single good-sized building that still stands reveals its secrets to them.  Empty except for rats and _glyphs of warding,_ which harm but do not kill our heroes, the danger is nonetheless enough that Whisperclick attempts to flee up a nearby set of stairs.  Amused and annoyed both, Beau grabs the trailing end of the rope that Whisperclick had tied around his waist and pulls him down the stairs, which proves to be a painful and humiliating fall.  At the bottom, Whisperclick staggers to his feet angrily, and he and Beau come to blows; but Timothy separates them with a _flaming sphere,_ which also burns through the rope, and Jawbreaker bonks the gnome over the head with the flat of his axe, trying to stun him into submission without killing him. 

Beau, on the other hand, feints; and as the gnome tries to parry the fake blow, the halfling rogue slips through his guard and stabs him in the vitals, putting him down.

“Oh no!  Whisperclick!” exclaims Timothy in distress.  “Why were you guys fighting?”

“He was being a coward!” Beau cries.  “I didn’t want him to run away again!”

“Stupid gnome,” Jawbreaker mutters.

“We could eat him,” Naomi offers helpfully.

“Nobody’s eating anyone,” declares Beau.  

“How about sacrificing him to the ancestors?”

“No!” Timothy interjects.  “Chief Jawbreaker, as your advisor, I advise you not to sacrifice the gnome.”

“Welllll...”  Beau chuckles.

Jawbreaker cuts off debate.  “No killing.  If he not be nice when wake up, we leave him on island.”

“Fair enough,” Beau nods.

“Yes!  Listen to Chief Jawbreaker.”  Timothy smiles enthusiastically.  “No killing!”

“Bah,” mutters Naomi.

***

_*4 p.m.*_

The ancestors are long-gone, apparently; but when Naomi cuts her hand and drips blood on their altar, she finds herself in a weird state of communion with _something._  A spirit?  Perhaps a long-passed ghost?  Who knows?  Whatever it is, Naomi walks away from it with a _restoration_ and a _quest._

“There’s an idol,” she tells her adventuring companions.  “It belongs here, but someone took it.  We have to find it and bring it back.”

“Okay, fair trade- idol for your powers,” Jawbreaker nods.  “Where idol?”

“On one of the islands, probably the next one.”

“We’re makin’ the rounds, arr, sure enough,” Dogtooth growls.

The party begins trekking down towards the sea.  Evening is setting in, and just before the chief is going to call a halt they are fortunate enough to be attacked by dire bacon- that is, a dire boar.  They slay it with magic and blades, and soon they’ve begun roasting it.

“I like these islands,” Beau sighs.  “They have lots of things to eat on them.”

_*Next Time:*_ Death strikes our happy little group!!


*That’s right, she lost a level when she failed to throw off a negative level.  Ouch!  That’s the worst!


----------



## the Jester

Heh... so I'm now only 26 collective games behind in my story hours (not counting the Early Years- heck no!    ).  "Only" 26 games behind is a lot better than the roughly 30-35 behind I was until my recent massive flurry of updates.  Expect More!!!

I'm trying to get caught up enough that I can actually _keep up_ with each game and post it across the week between sessions.  That's my dream, but I'm not sure it's realistic. If I can pull it off, though, there will be some cool rewards:

1. The updates will be much more accurate, since the memory will be fresh rather than, oh, 4 months old or so.

2. The players will be able to find out pretty much exactly what happened last game if they missed all or some of it.

The drawback is (at least in the Epic story hour) I don't know if I can show as much 'off-screen' stuff.  Maybe make it more 'face hidden in shadows' kind of stuff...

Anyway, that's my dream.


----------



## the Jester

*A Tragic Loss*

_*5/4/369 O.L.G., 11:30 a.m., in an outrigger canoe just off an isolated tropical island*_

A pleasant light rain falls upon our heroes as they move towards the next island.  It often rains in the afternoon here.  Naomi fairly itches to retrieve the idol of the ancestors.  The others are more than willing to help her.  Dogtooth pilots the vessel adroitly, and the canoe starts to skim across the waves away from the island when suddenly a red streak falls from the sky.  Dogtooth cries out a hoarse surprised curse and staggers.  He’s bleeding.  

“What in Bleak’s-“ he cries, then shouts in dismay, ducking and covering his head with his arms as another two blood-red birds slash down at him.  

Bows and crossbows come out; Martini draws his greatsword and stands ready.  

“Dogtooth, are you all right?” cries Timothy.  He blasts one of the hawks from the sky with a volley of _magic missiles._  A few arrows fly at the hawks, but they dodge quickly and then make another pass, flying down-

Martini swings, cutting one of the deadly birds in half in a spray of blood.  

The other hawks flash by, dragging trails of crimson gore in Dogtooth, dealing a ripping blow to Martini’s shoulder and slashing Whisperclick across the face.  As the hawks wheel away again, Martini can feel his strength flagging.  _Those claws are vicious,_ he realizes.  _I’m bleeding severely... looks like the gnome is too._  Gritting his teeth, he casts down his blade and unlimbers his bow.  He starts firing arrows, sinking one after another into the scarlet-plumaged birds.  They wheel in again, but Naomi dives behind cover and Martini dodges aside as well.  Several of the birds have fallen, but the others, oddly, seem intent on fighting to the end.  Combined with the color of their plumage, Martini abruptly realizes, _These are blood hawks!  Very dangerous, very vicious... and carnivores._  He continues firing arrows- there are only three birds left, and then two, as another round of _magic missiles_ blasts another down and wounds another so severely that it spirals down onto the water.  Martini fires another arrow, and with a squawk another blood hawk falls into the sea!  And a final one- Martini is quite good at firing rapid shots- and the last bird dies.

“No,” Naomi’s voice comes to him, choked with emotion.  Fearing the worst, Martini turns.  

Naomi is weeping over Dogtooth, whose eyes are wide open, staring sightlessly into the distance.

_”NOOOOOO!!”_

Our heroes weep and moan over their fallen friend.  “Dogtooth was our best buddy here,” opines Timothy.  “He knew so much, and even when he didn’t have a weapon he’d throw a coconut or unripe mango at a bad guy!”

His tale grows in the telling.  “Remember that time when Dogtooth saved us from the goblins?” sighs Beau.  “Ahhh, Dogtooth!”  He wipes his eyes.

Eventually, it gets kind of creepy staring at his corpse in the boat with them.  

“We can’t just dump him,” Whisperclick exclaims.  

“It’s a burial at sea,” Martini replies.  “That’s what you _do_ when someone dies at sea.”

“Can’t we just take him with us to the next island?” Timothy asks, then looks at the corpse and blanches.  “Wait- never mind.”

After a considerable debate, Martini and Jawbreaker heave the corpse overboard, but through a quirk of fate the currents generated by the boat draw it behind our heroes until they reach the next isle. 

***

The party spends a few days investigating the island, but finds nothing of real interest.  On their way to the next isle, a group of sahuagin rises from the sea and demands tribute for safe passage; in return, Jawbreaker intimidates the hell out of them and they flee without a fight and with far less than they demanded.  It’s very impressive, and when it’s over, Jawbreaker declares, “Fish-men smart.  They know leave Jawbreaker alone.”  He guffaws.  

Soon enough our heroes reach the next isle.  Timothy keeps an eye on the waves, half-afraid he’ll see Dogtooth- and, more than once, in the distance, he’s convinced he does.

***

_*5/7/369 O.L.G., 2 a.m., the next island*_

Beau wakes Martini up. “Your turn to watch,” he murmurs.  Martini nods and sits up.  He takes a moment to stretch, then pulls out his bow.  The low embers of their fire gives out more than enough warmth for a night like this.  Beau hunkers down, putting his gear away- and pulling something out.

“Hey Martini,” he says, “I forgot to give this to you- it’s yours.  I saved it for you when you died.”  He proffers Martini’s helm.

The ranger stares at it for a moment.  

“Well,” Beau says cheerfully, “good night!”  And he crawls into his bedroll, leaving the helm next to the fire.

Martini stares at the helm some more.

Some days back, after fighting the vampire, the party had found a magical gem.  When they diced for it, Martini won.  After a moment, he puts the gem in one of the helmet’s settings.  Then, slowly, biting his lip, he pulls the helm over his face.

_*Next Time:*_  Our heroes start to find themselves in some trouble with the locals.  Watch out, halflings!  There are some pretty bad dudes on this island!


----------



## the Jester

I don't think words can express how funny the whole Dogtooth thing has become.  This game took place almost 5 months ago, and Dogtooth was only in 2 or 3 games, yet he is invoked probably every single game by my players.  That +1 for Dogtooth listed above?  I hear that every time we game.  For Dogtooth! has become the party's battle cry.  They even named these frickin' hidden lil islands they've been tromping around the Dogtooth Islands!!


----------



## Brain

the Jester said:
			
		

> Anyway, that's my dream.




I fully support your dream.  Let me know if I can do anything to help.



			
				the Jester said:
			
		

> I don't think words can express how funny the whole Dogtooth thing has become. This game took place almost 5 months ago, and Dogtooth was only in 2 or 3 games, yet he is invoked probably every single game by my players. That +1 for Dogtooth listed above? I hear that every time we game. For Dogtooth! has become the party's battle cry. They even named these frickin' hidden lil islands they've been tromping around the Dogtooth Islands!!




Part of Dogtooth's mystique is that he had a little too much insight into the ways of pirates, but yet he was a benevolent friend to the halflings.  So in short, he had piratey goodness without all the piratey badness (at least from my point of view).

Dogtooth lives on, and I'm sure he is awaiting us in the promised land.


----------



## hippiejedi2

aye +1 for dogtooth, and more helm of alignment changing shananigans


----------



## the Jester

*The Mining Operation*

_*9 a.m.*_

A cold drizzle begins to spatter half-heartedly.  Our heroes continue to travel along the island, looking for signs of anyone who might have the idol they are looking for for the ancestors that _restored_ Naomi after the vampires energy drained her.  Grulka, Chief Jawbreaker’s goblin wife, clutches his arm.  Several members of the party have tried to make her take up arms, but she is frightened and Jawbreaker has told them to leave her alone.  “She not have to fight,” he declares.  “Jawbreaker fight for her.”

By elevensies the drizzle still can’t make up its mind.  Then the party spots a pair of strange panther-like creatures with jagged, dangerous-looking tentacles protruding from their shoulders.  The creatures start loping towards them, and the group readies for action, with Martini starting to fire his bow to whittle away at them from afar.

_I am one with my bow,_ he thinks.  Pull arrow, draw string, loose; a dance of finger and fletching and string.  Pull, draw loose; pull, draw, loose. 

He already has two arrows in the air when the first one passes harmlessly through the image of the creature.

The strange beasts reach the foremost of our heroes, Jawbreaker, with teeth-shattering force, knocking five of his teeth loose!  “Aargh!” he shouts, staggering back with his face bloody.  Then he pulls his axe out and attacks, swinging in wide arcs.  He laughs through his throbbing mouth as he feels something to the left of where it appears to be.  He chops at it again, but then the terrible beast bites him, its sharp teeth tearing open a nasty gut wound!*

Jawbreaker groans and staggers back, scrabbling for a potion.

Naomi, meanwhile, uses her psychic powers to harm the creatures as much as she can.  She causes one to _recall agony_ from the most painful experience it had ever had, and then blasts the target with a massive spray of jagged crystalline fragments.  Even though it isn’t precisely where she sees it, her spray catches it and harms it.  It shakes its head as blood starts to trickle from its ear and nose.  With a snarl it springs away, towards Beau.

Timothy isn’t having much luck with the one he’s fighting.  The monsters snarl and snap and lay about them with their muscular tentacles, but they don’t slow down when he tries to make them.  Instead, one of them jumps at him and starts trying to slay him with those tentacles!  The other one beats on Beau, and he stabs it; and when he tumbles away, Naomi blasts it with a _mind thrust_,leaving it barely standing.  With no enemy directly before it, the tentacle-panther turns-

To Grulka.

“NO!!” cries Timothy.  Martini zings an arrow towards it, hoping to distract it.

*SMACK!*  The tentacle comes down across her head with alarming force, and Grulka’s neck snaps back at a dubious angle.  Then, ironically, the black tentacled cat-beast staggers and collapses with a shudder.**

Jawbreaker quaffs the sweet-tasting potion and feels his insides begin to knit back together.  The blood pouring from his mouth slows to a trickle; he spits a great bloody blob of phlegm out.  He grips his axe in both hands, growls and bounds forward, intent on the kill.

Naomi’s mental powers are dealing terrific damage to the other panther-like beast.  Beau, meantime, has managed to stab one of the monsters and tumble back away several times.  It keeps advancing on him, but that’s okay.  As long as he can stay a step ahead of it he should be okay.  _Thrust and tumble back again.  Don’t stick around._  But he does not expect its viciously swift counterattack.  The monster’s tentacle tears across his side, and Beau stumbles.  The creature jerks and yowls as another arrow from Martini sticks into it, this one landing deep in its neck.  Then Beau thrusts forward, stabbing to the side of the cat thing’s visible image, and feels his small sword sink into something.  With a grunt, he throws all his halfling weight into it, and the cat monster gives one last loud screeching yowl and collapses.

“Ow,” says Jawbreaker, spitting another bloody gob.

“Yeah,” Timothy answers, his voice full of sorrow.  “Your wife...”

***

_*5/8/369 O.L.G., 1 p.m.*_

After holing up for most of two days while it storms, our heroes leave the cave they have rested in and head into the hills.  They are saddened by the joint recent losses of Grulka and Dogtooth- alas!  As they travel, Ethel, Federico’s dog, finds something interesting.  Investigating, our heroes find a trail of droplets of some sort of amber colored liquid.  

“What could it be?” wonders Sandy.  Federico shrugs.

“Let’s find out,” says Naomi, and the group follows the trail of liquid.  After about a mile, the party starts to hear a distant loud noise, a weird whirling, grinding sound.  Puzzled and nervous, our heroes move carefully from cover to cover until their vantage reveals the source of the noise: a pair of large metal _things,_ drilling and punching into the side of the hill.  Pulverized rock is all around them.  A veritable cloud of rubble and chips of stone and dirt is flying all around them.  A weird, unnatural burning smell is in the air.

Ethel starts barking wildly.  This, unfortunately, gets the monsters’ attention.  

The whirling drill appendages on the first construct spin down and stop.  It withdraws from the cave mouth and turns towards the barking, snarling dog.  As the cloud of dust and debris quickly settles in the drizzle, it starts to advance.  The second construct begins advancing, too, but instead of whirling drill appendages, it has a massive hammer and a great big pincer claw at its forebody.

Our heroes decide right away that these things are potentially dangerous.  Arrows and crossbow bolts start zinging into the constructs, which prove unreliable; at several points they pause and don’t move for a few crucial seconds.  Nonetheless, they reach and engage the halfling band, drilling and hammering at them.  One of them proves able to let out an ear-shatteringly loud noise, but our heroes rapidly overcome the automatons.  When Timothy _slows_ them, Jawbreaker charges, shaking and frothing and screaming, and proceeds to hammer into the driller.  “FOR DOGTOOTH!” he howls, and he hacks its central motor to pieces.  Laughing harshly, the barbarian whirls and begins battering the hammerer.  He dodges its _slowed_ attempt at a counterattack, and then Timothy finishes it with a volley of _magic missiles._

Once the constructs are dealt with, the band of halflings examines the dig site.  It appears the constructs were following a vein of copper.  

“Someone must have been controlling them,” Federico points out.  “We should get out of here before they come to see what happened to their machines.”  His little kobold tail is tucked between his legs.  

“Dog’s right.”  Sandy nods.  “We should move off under cover somewhere.”

“Yeah, I think it’s time to eat,” says Beau.

***

_*5/9/369 O.L.G., 5 a.m., under cover on the lee side of a hill*_

Our heroes are awoken just before dawn by a strange beast that sprays them with acid.  It’s not a very nice way to wake up, and after registering a lethal complaint with it our heroes get up.  It’s nearly breakfast time anyway.  

“Too bad we don’t have any coffee,” comments Naomi.

The party elects to spend the day resting and eating.  They are somewhat wounded from the combination of digging automatons and acid-spewing monster, so they enjoy a still day, with a light rain in the afternoon.  That seems to happen here most days, unless it’s raining heavily at the time.

***

_*5/10/369 O.L.G., 9 a.m.*_

After breaking camp, our heroes set out.  They haven’t moved far when the sound of wolves baying reaches them- coming gradually closer.

“Uh-oh,” says Beau.

“Stupid wolves,” Jawbreaker snorts.

The group creeps to the top of a hill, from which they can see the mining site.  They can see several groups of goblins, some of which look to include bugbears and hobgoblins, and most of which seem to include wolves.  Worse, there is a huge hulking two-headed giant down there.

“Oh crap,” Sandy utters.  “An ettin.”

_*Next Time:*_ Hot pursuit!


*Two crits on the poor bastard in two rounds.

**Before it struck, the monster was at 0 hp.  It attacked and killed Grulka, took 1 hp, and collapsed at -1.


----------



## the Jester

I should mention at this point that I allowed Federico to pour 1000 xp into giving Ethel a single fighter level around this time. 

Ethel- dog, fighter 1!


----------



## the Jester

*Hot Pursuit*

The ettin has two immense black-furred dire wolves leashed to ragged lengths of rope gathered in one of its hands.  As the baying, howling noise increases the two-headed giant lets the ropes go.  Its other head growls, “Too soon, stoopid!” in Giant.

”You da stoopid one,” the first head grunts.

“Shut up.”

_”You_ shut up!”

Despite the argument between its heads, the ettin’s body keeps moving.  The goblinoid patrols roaming about give it a little distance; a few goblins follow discretely, but all stay well out of the ettin’s reach.  He crashes through the undergrowth, his heads shouting at each other, leaving a trampled path that the more cowardly goblins can follow with ease.  

The wolves dart upslope.  

***

“Let’s get out of here!” whispers Naomi urgently.  The party of halflings starts retreating towards shelter.  The sounds of barking pursuit are closing in on the top of the hill; our heroes hurry towards the shelter of the trees below, but they are too slow!  The first black-furred form tops the hill and speeds down towards them, and in seconds the other dire wolf appears in hot pursuit.  

“Here they come!” cries Beau, and he fires an arrow, sticking the first dire wolf in the neck.  It coughs and yelps, but keeps coming.  Sandy shoots the other one, but the creatures are huge.  More arrows zing past the wolves, missing, and then a brown-furred form rushes forward, barking madly!  Ethel makes her move, grabbing one of the wolves and tripping it.  The sounds of barking dogs savage the air.  

The wolf struggles to its feet and starts to advance, but Sandy has drawn forth his longspear, and he thrusts heavily into its face, and though its tough skull saves its life, it is momentarily stunned.  Its brother wolf tears at Naomi, rending her thigh.  She gasps in pain and drags herself back, bleeding heavily, and fires off a _swarm of crystal_ to discourage the monstrous wolf.

Then, at the top, two voices exclaim in unison. 

“Aw, crap,” cries Sandy, “it’s the ettin!”

Jawbreaker glares and sends an arrow at the two-headed giant, as does Beau; and the lumbering giant hurls javelins back at them while it advances.  None of them hit.  The ettin is closing fast, hurling another javelin at Jawbreaker and then pulling out a wicked spiked club.  Jawbreaker casts aside his bow and draws his axe.

Sandy attempts to finish off the stunned wolf, but his sweaty hands slip and his spear turns in his hand, barely damaging the monster.*

Ethel, meanwhile, has turned to the defense of the retreating Naomi.  She and the other wolf tear at paw and wrestle, barking and snarling and whining as fighting dogs do- but a whole lot moreso.  Timothy steps up to it and rolls out a _flaming sphere,_ and the wolf catches fire.  It yelps and screams, and Naomi fires another _swarm of crystals_ but misses.  Then the _flaming sphere_ rolls onto it again and it gives one last agonized howl.  

The remaining wolf turns on Timothy and springs, but the pudgy, formerly-insane sorcerer is ready for it.  He reaches out and touches it before it can quite reach him; and a loud *ZZZOT!* fills the air.  The smell of ozone mixes with that of burning wolf.  The canine gives a single yelp and collapses at Timothy’s feet.

“Don’t worry!” cries Timothy to the others.  “I’ll protect you!”

“Jawbreaker not need protection!” shouts Chief Jawbreaker as he strikes the ettin a telling blow right between the necks.  It staggers back, then jerks as Federico’s crossbow bolt sticks in it.  It gives a roar and swings its two huge clubs at Jawbreaker, but he nimbly leaps over the first one and dodges past the second!  Then the Chief is hacking at it again, its defenses barely allowing it to fend off his attack.  

But while the ettin is focused on one threat, another moves in from behind it.  One head cries out a warning, but it is too late.  Ethel leaps in, grabbing the ettin by the throat in her toothy maw, savagely shaking the giant’s right neck until it flops loosely.  The other head gives a great cry of dismay, and Ethel drags the giant down, not stopping until it is dead.

Panting, Sandy says, “Listen!”

The sound of baying is in the distance.

“Oh no,” moans Federico.  “They’re gonna eat us!  That’s what giants do to halflings, right?  Oh, man!”  He shakes and tucks his tail between his legs.  

“We need to find somewhere to hide,” Sandy says.

“Or kill them all,” suggests Jawbreaker.

“There’s too many of them, and I think I saw a couple more of those ettins.  And tons of goblins.”  Naomi is ripping ragged strips from her blanket to bandage her bleeding thigh.  

“Let’s get out of here,” Beau says, and the group continues their descent.

”There were caves all over the hills,” Naomi observes.  She’s limping slightly as she hauls her bulk along.  The sounds of pursuit are definitely getting closer as our heroes get under relative cover, with a thicker concentration of brush and grasses.  This island, alas, is not a jungle.

“Most of them had guards out front,” Sandy says.  “That may not be our best option.”

But our heroes find a cave without any guards fairly quickly; and they move just inside it.  Watching carefully, they can see a group of goblins and wolves, and another ettin, coming towards them.  

“The cave goes back a ways,” reports Federico from deeper within the cave system.  “Hey, it smells funny back here.”

The party falls back a little bit, into the full darkness of the cave, and soon they see the first of the enemy arrive at the cave and stop.  The number of the enemy keeps increasing over the course of a few minutes.  Sandy gets increasingly uneasy as the opposition grows.  _I hope there’s a back way out of here,_ he thinks. 

As if reading his mind, Federico whispers, “Let’s get the hell out of here.  Come on.”

The party heads deeper into the cave.

_*Next Time:*_ What lurks within the cave?


*Stunned dire wolf = +2d6 sneak attack for Sandy.  Sadly, Sandy rolled absolutely terrible and dealt 4 hp of damage.


----------



## hippiejedi2

hey how bout updatiing us on the cast of characters and their respective levels.
thanks


----------



## the Jester

Sure!  Our heroes, presently, are:

Timothy- sorcerer 6 (CG)
Federico- bard 3/sorcerer 2 (CG)
Naomi- psion 5 (LE)
Chief Jawbreaker- barbarian 5 (CG)
Sandy- fighter 2/rogue 4 (LE)
Beau- rogue 4/sorcerer 1 (CE)
Whisperclick- gnome rogue 2/monk 1 (LG)
Thelonious- human ranger 2/fighter 1 (NG)


----------



## the Jester

*Hot Pursuit, pt. II*

“I don’t think they’re following,” Beau reports in hushed tones as our heroes stumble deeper into the darkness.  The little light that trickles in from the entrance quickly fades into the background, and our heroes have no choice but to strike lights after they have rounded a few corners.  Otherwise they risk too many injuries and extremely slow progress.

Our heroes clump together for a moment as torches catch and begin to burn.  “We have to find another way out of here,” Sandy says urgently.  “I don’t think we can expect to last long if those ettins catch us with our backs to a wall.”

Well, it’s obvious to them all that Sandy is dead right; so they hurry deeper into the blackness of the cave.  A strange, animal scent fills the air.  Suddenly Jawbreaker gives a cry of dismay and flails his arms wildly as something pulls him to the ceiling!

***

_*Outside the cave*_

“We will not go in there,” insists one of the hobgoblins.  “Not unless you kill the cave monster first.”

The ettin that the hobgoblin is addressing exchanges glances with itself.  “Told you,” says the head on the left, which is missing and eye.  

“Stoopid,” the right head grunts.

“They right,” argues the left head.  “Monster kill them in cave.  Monster kills _everything_ that goes into cave.”

“We watch and see,” commands the right head.  

The hobgoblin nods.  “Yes,” he answers immediately.  “The Master would not like it if they got away.”  He looks around and points at a cowering goblin.  “You!” he barks.  Reluctantly the goblin shuffles over, trying not to look at anything but his feet.  “We will listen for a while, and then you will go quietly and see what has happened!”

The goblin groans, but can only obey.

When, after a moment, the sounds of battle begin to come from deep within the cave, both heads of the ettin cheer, as do the goblinoids.  They start shouting encouragement to the monster within, not even caring whether it understands their tongue.

***

_*In the cave*_

Sandy feels a strange disorientation, and suddenly he’s spinning head over heels, falling.  He shouts out in pain as he slams down into a collection of rocks.  Shaking his head, he groans, “What happened?”  He struggles to his feet and glances at the opening ahead of him-

Except for him and Jawbreaker, the party is walking upside down on the ceiling.  “Hey!” shouts Sandy.  “How are you-“

Ethel, Federico’s faithful dog, darts forward, suddenly barking.  From behind them, towards the entrance, comes a sudden burst of cheers and shouts.  Though they are relatively far off, they are loud and boisterous; clearly the party’s pursuers anticipate some blood here.

_Why are they on the ceiling?_ wonders Sandy, then it slowly dawns on him.  _They aren’t- Jawbreaker and I are.  Something... reversed gravity for us!_

Meanwhile, below the befuddled Sandy, Timothy moves into the open area, his torch held high, and goggles at what he sees: a really big, happy-looking... raccoon thing.  “Oh, an animal,” he sighs.  _I thought it might be a monster._  But it and Ethel are snapping at each other, and Timothy knows that an animal disturbed in its lair is dangerous, so he casts _slow_ upon it!

“Don’t worry, Ethel!” the sorcerer cries.  “I’ll protect you!”  He begins casting a _flaming sphere._

Then the others are there, too, rushing in with spears, bows, and axe.  

Suddenly Jawbreaker and Beau give out cries of dismay as they drop back to the floor.  The impact shakes both of them a little, and they both shakily rise.  Then it’s Timothy’s turn; the sorcerer yelps as he suddenly falls up and smashes into the ceiling, then immediately falls back to the ground, leaving him nearly senseless.  Then Ethel receives similar treatment.  

Meanwhile, the big raccoon thing is shrugging off _magic missiles_ and, to some degree, blows.  It bites at Ethel again, but the dog strikes back with furious power.*  Jawbreaker rushes in and chops at it several times, cutting deep into the monster and splashing blood everywhere.  Finally, as Sandy distracts it by stabbing it deeply in the side, Jawbreaker swings a mighty swing and cleanly decapitates it.  

***

_*Outside the cave*_

“It’s over,” announces the hobgoblin confidently.  “They must be dead.”

“We check,” the ettin’s right head insists stubbornly.

“But master, we heard what happened,” the goblin says timidly.

The left head frowns mightily, but the right head roars.  The ettin’s right arm lifts up, and the goblin tries to run, but it’s too late.  The club smashes his head like a zit.  “WE CHECK!” the ettin roars.

“You!” the hobgoblin barks, gesturing to another goblin.  “And you, you, you and you... and _you!_”  He grins.  The bugbear he just picked out has been a troublemaker for quite a while.  It’s about time he had a lesson in who’s the boss around here.

“You go too,” the ettin snarls at the goblin shaman, whose face falls.

***

_*Inside the cave*_

“Maybe we can rest if they think it ate us,” murmurs Federico.

“Maybe they’ll come in after us,” counters Thelonious.  He takes up position near the area where the cave begins opening up, an arrow to the string of his bow.  

The party assesses their situation.  It could be worse, as none of them are down yet; but almost all of them are wounded.  Federico expends what limited healing ability he has; much of it goes to Ethel, who took the worst of it during the fight. 

Perhaps the worst piece of news is the fact that the cave is a dead end. 

It is just as they are laying down to rest, with Thelonious on watch, that the search party arrives.  The human ranger yells a warning and fires his bow at the hulking bugbear in the rear, but he misses.  

The bugbear turns to flee.  _Must report,_ he thinks, but then staggers as arrows and spears slam into him from behind, preventing his retreat. 

But this group is about a half-dozen strong, and our heroes are wounded and tired, pushed near the edge of exhaustion.  Whisperclick moves up to try to block the assault, but they tear into him with spears, and when he tries to tumble away he ends up nearly tripping and taking a heavy blow from the bugbear’s spear, which crashes entirely through his thigh and knocks him unconscious!

Even as the party strikes back, one of the goblins proves able to heal its fellows.  Then it charges its hand with some sort of black energy and begins groping for a viable target.  Our heroes try to back away from him.

“Someone help Whisperclick!” shouts Timothy, casting a _flaming sphere_ into the fray.  He directs it at the shaman.  Then he creates a second one and sends it after the bugbear.  Thelonious has fallen back but is landing shot after shot, dropping two of the goblins.  Then they’re too close to him for archery, and he switches to his battle axe, hewing about him.  He yelps as a javelin from the bugbear whizzes past him, narrowly missing, and he leaps towards the big goblinoid.  With a grin, the bugbear strikes for him with a spear, but ironically enough its foot catches on the bleeding Whisperclick and throws its blow off.  

Thelonious steps past the bugbear.  “Die, witch!” he cries, and strikes the shaman, cutting a red ribbon across his arm.  As the bugbear tries to turn on him, Beau darts in and stabs it.

Timothy, meanwhile, charges up a _shocking grasp_ and soon he and the shaman are trying to touch each other while keeping the other from touching him- an interesting dance, to say the least.  But it’s a dance that ends abruptly as Timothy pulls a _flaming sphere_ onto the shaman again, catching him unawares are lighting him on fire.  The shaman screams and runs about for a moment before collapsing unmoving to the ground.

Thelonious’ axe finishes the bugbear, and somewhere in there the other two goblins fell; and our heroes quickly tend to the bleeding Whisperclick.  His life is saved, at least for the moment.

“We need to get out of here,” Federico whines.

“But they have to be guarding the entrance.  Especially in the shape we’re in, we can’t take on two ettins!”  Naomi sets her jaw.  “We should rest.”

“They’ll just send in more goblins,” Sandy groans.

“What do we do?” moans Federico.

_*Next Time:*_ What _do_ our heroes do?  Find out!

*Using her 1st-level fighter feat, Power Attack.  Ah, yes: Ethel- dog fighter 1.


----------



## the Jester

*Hot Pursuit pt III*

It’s dangerous, but it seems to be the least dangerous of a bunch of dangerous courses.  It’s the only thing they can think of trying.

They wait a while, hoping that the other goblins, ettins and so forth will assume that the terrible gravity raccoon killed their fellows.  Surely no band of halflings could be so deadly!  Surely not!  They must be dead!

They give it a couple of hours, then- made up to resemble goblins as best they can- our heroes creep to the edge of the cave, then out.  It is being watched, but not very strictly.  They manage to slink past the guards unnoticed.  

Then, once they are under the cover of trees, our heroes move as quickly as they can, Whisperclick’s unconscious form thrown over Jawbreaker’s shoulders.  They put some distance between themselves and the mass of goblinoids and worse searching for them; then Jawbreaker looks around until he finds a good hidden place, and our heroes settle in to rest.

Fortunately for them, the next day offers a thick fog that lays over the island, and none of the searchers even come close to them.  They spend the day in frightened near-silence, resting and changing bandages and eating.  They are not in good shape.  

***

_*5/12/369 O.L.G., 1 p.m.*_

Two days of rest have done our heroes well.  They move rapidly through the undergrowth.  They have become somewhat lost during the pursuit, and really wouldn’t mind getting out of here at this point.  The island’s inhabitants don’t seem to have given up the search for our heroes, but it has slacked off.  Naomi is increasingly sure that the idol she must retrieve is in the hands of the island’s mysterious ‘master.’

If only she knew- the master doesn’t even _have_ hands!  But we’re getting ahead of ourselves here.

A pair of big, dark red lizards burst from the brush as our heroes travel.  Immediately Thelonious fires a shot at one of them, hurting it.  It hisses- and breathes out a great gout of flames on our heroes!  The halflings shout in dismay, and one of the lizards darts in and bites Jawbreaker savagesly.

Thelonious, falling back, lands another arrow in the monster.  “Watch out!” he shouts.  “They’re regenerating!”

“Don’t worry, Jawbreaker, I’ll protect you!” cries Timothy, casting a _slow_ spell that affects one of the creatures.  Naomi blasts it with a _swarm of crytals,_ and Jawbreaker swings.  Both lizards snap at him, but the Chief parries one.  The other tears a great chunk from his arm.  

“Oh no, Chief Jawbreaker!” cries Timothy.

Jawbreaker shoves his axe into the face of the beast on him, knocking it back and dazing it senseless.  Then he reverses it in a double-handed blow across the face.  The lizard crumples- but Jawbreaker grunts in displeasure when he notes that it is still regenerating.  He crushes its head beneath his axe, hoping that will be a lasting enough effect to stop the creature from returning.  Sure enough, it no longer seems to be regenerating.

The other one lays about it with its razor-sharp teeth.  Whisperclick stabs it in the neck and it turns on him, seizing him by the cranium with its mouth.  The gnome gives out a startled cry and drops his weapon.  His hands scrabble desperately at the massive jaw closing on his dome-

_CRUNCH!_

“Oh no, Whisperclick!” cries Timothy is horror.  The rest of the gnomes body, pretty much everything from the earlobes down, collapses to the ground.  The top of his body is a crimson mess.

The lizard croons in triumph as our horrified heroes stare for a moment.  Then their paralysis breaks.  With a yell, Timothy tries to touch the monster with a _shocking grasp,_ but it jerks quickly away from his crackling hand.  Ethel and Federico both hit it, the dog tearing at its ankles while the kobold launches a bolt into its chest.  Beau tumbles in, shouting, “For Whisperclick!  Dogtooth and Whisperclick!!”  The monster is too quick for him, however, and bites his side viciously.  The rogue almost passes out from the pain, but instead he sticks his blade up under the pit of its forearm.  The monster squeals and jerks, then takes a huge bite out of Naomi.

_ZZOT!_  Timothy’s _shocking grasp_ lands at last, electrifying the beast.  It howls, but it still stands.

“Die!” curses Jawbreaker, his axe rebounding from the monster’s hide.  “DIE!!  *DIE!!!!  RRRAAAGGHHH!!!!!!”*  He pounds at it ferociously, but he’s getting sloppy with anger.  He misses.  

Then, finally, Ethel gets it where it counts.  Seizing its little lizard genital region, she drags it to the ground and tears out its throat.  Its twitching stops.

The group looks over at the body of their friend, Whisperclick.

“It had to happen,” says Naomi soberly.  “Grulka, Dogtooth, and Whisperclick.  You know why, don’t you?”  She looks at her friends.

“They weren’t haflings.”

_*Next Time:*_ The infinite steak plot is hatched!  More hot pursuit!  The fight my players called ‘the Alamo!’


----------



## hippiejedi2

can anyone say regenerating candy golem


----------



## hippiejedi2

the fight in the cave was a desperate situation.  the party was beaten down and low on spells, but so were the badguys.  the last 2 bad guys, the bugbear & clerical goblin, were attempting to retreat, obviously, to get reinforcements.  beau, seeing the gnome fall in addition to the former decided that the best opportunity to survive was to cut off the badguys retreat, hence limiting the likely number of badguys they would have to fight.  beau accomplished this by taking a 2x move w/ tumble too stifle their retreat by getting in front of them.  then the only option left to the badguys was to go through him, which turned out to be their downfall as beau's fellow party members caught up, though beau was not the one to deliver the final blow he prevented disaster.


----------



## the Jester

*The Alamo*

_*6 p.m.*_

The sky is clear as afternoon turns to evening, which is rare here; it usually rains in the afternoon.  Grease sizzles and drips from the cooking nose over the fire.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s dead,” insists Naomi.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Federico says reproachfully.  “He’s sentient.  That’s a big taboo, big big taboo.”

“We’re doing it out of respect,” Naomi tries.

“I don’t know,” Federico answers again.  “I’m not doing it at all.”  He turns away.

With a sigh and a shake of the head, Naomi turns back to Whisperclick’s succulent nose, dangling over the fire. 

***

_*5/14/369 O.L.G., 11 a.m.*_

Two days spent sheltering from a massive storm in a cave have passed.  Now our heroes prepare to leave to continue their explorations.

Unfortunately, they have been found out.

An ettin and a group of ogres- this time the heat is up even higher than before.  Wolves race beside them.  As our heroes reach cave mouth a great cry rises up, and our heroes find themselves in the fight of their lives.

Wolves snap at Beau, almost pulling him down.  They reach our heroes first, being fastest on their feet; and our heroes start a staunch defense, keeping rock at their back and offering only a narrow front.  Blood sprays as Jawbreaker lays about him with his axe.  Federico uses a scroll of _slow_ and catches both of the ogres.  But the onrushing horde makes him blanch.  

Timothy catches one of the ogres in a _flaming sphere,_ but it lowers its head and just keeps charging forward.  Ethel, meanwhile, squares off growling against a dire wolf well over her size.  She pulls it down by the ankle and Jawbreaker takes the chance to cut the wolf in half with a mighty blow of his axe!

Beau cries out as one of the ogres smashes him with its club.  The ettin, meanwhile, is swinging its huge clubs at Timothy, and one knocks him flying.  An ogrish head rolls on the floor as Jawbreaker finishes it off, but the huge, feral-looking wolves tear and pull at him, trying to bring him down.  Ethel drags one of them off him.  

Federico scurries over to Beau and casts a bardic healing spell on him.  The rogue groans and his eyes flutter.  _Good enough,_ thinks the kobold, and reloads his crossbow.  Then he cries out as an ogre swings its club at him, and he scrambles back.  Timothy’s _flaming sphere_ is suddenly right on the ogre, and it gives out a hoarse bellow.  It staggers away from the flames, swatting at the fires catching in its hair and the rude hides that it wears.  

Jawbreaker laughs harshly and hacks into its leg, and it totters, then smashes him with another club blow.  He survives the impact, but he’s hurt badly.  

The ettin continues to dance with Timothy, slamming him again with another blow.  He staggers away, mumbling incantations, and then touches the two-headed giant with a _shocking grasp!_  It gasps as all the hair on both of its heads stands up on end.  It staggers back and deals a backhanded strike to Timothy, leaving the little sorcerer on the very edge of consciousness.  He casts _false life,_ desperately hoping it’s enough as the ettin closes in- 

Only one ogre is still standing.  Ethel is darting in at him, but he’s ready for her.  He swings his club in a smooth upstroke, catching her just below the chin.  She gives out a horrible, agonized yelp- and then no more.  Ethel’s neck shatters, killing her.

“No!!” shouts Beau.  “Not Ethel!”  He casts a _ray of enfeeblement_ at the monstrous ogre that laid her low, and the monster staggers.  Then he fires an arrow that lands true in its throat, and it topples over like a felled tree.

Timothy cringes as the roaring ettin pulls back its two massive clubs, ready to destroy him- and then there’s the telltale sound of a crossbow loosing its bolt.  The ettin cries in pain as the bolt hits his forearm, tearing all the way through it and shattering bones, and then the giant stumbles... and falls.

The last dire wolf’s head flies off with Jawbreaker’s assistance, and then, panting, our heroes shakily sit down.  

”We need to get moving,” Jawbreaker declares after only a moment.

”Wait a second,” Beau groans.  “First we need to loot.”

Loot they do, though they keep a watch out for other incoming enemies.  They spend only enough time to strip the monsters of obvious valuables, mostly a few coins.  However, they also find a pair of spectacles that radiate magic.  

“Let’s dice for them,” Beau suggests.  “We can’t _identify_ them, so we might as well give them to someone so they can try to figure them out.”

The group agrees, and shortly they all throw Sandy’s knucklebones.  Timothy rolls best, so he puts the glasses on.  “I like them, glasses make you look grown up,” he declares.  Then he frowns, peering at Naomi.  “You have a black aura.  So do you, Beau.  Why do you have them and no one else?”

The two evil members of the group say, “No idea,” at the same moment.

Quickly, then, the group flees the cave, trying to find a hidden gully or something in the hills- some place where they can lay low and lick their wounds (which, once again, are considerable).  But as they move quickly, trying to put some distance between themselves and the bodies they’ve left behind, Beau stops and pulls out his bow.

“Oh, no,” whimpers Federico, “what now.”

“Someone’s spying on us,” Beau answers, and fires _up._  There’s a squeaking cry, and then a winged scaly form comes spiraling down out of the sky, landing with a thump in front of them, barely managing to control its fall.

“What is it?” wonders Naomi.  “It looks almost like you, Federico.”

“But with wings,” adds Thelonious.

”It’s an urd,” Federico says in wonder.  “I’ve never seen one before.”

“An urd?  A winged kobold?”  Naomi studies the miserable-looking little thing.  It cringes back.  “Not much meat on it,” she comments.

“We no eat it,” Jawbreaker says.  He slaps Federico on the shoulder.  “Ask what it want.  We get information.”  Squatting down, he pokes the urd with a stick.

“Sure thing, Chief,” says Federico.  “Hey there, buddy,” he says in Draconic.  “What are you doing here?  Do you live on this island?  Why were you watching us?”  

The urd cringes again.  “My name is Achtung,” he whines.  “My folk are slaves here.  But we heard that you’ve been disturbing things and they sent me out to beg for your help.”

When Federico translates, Jawbreaker laughs.  “Stupid urd,” he guffaws.  

“What do you want our help with?” Federico asks.

“I don’t know.  I was just sent to see if you would come talk to our chief.”

The party confers.  They don’t trust this shifty little urd, not for a second; but they certainly could use a friend or a place to hide, or both.  After some debate- and Timothy’s urging as his advisor- Chief Jawbreaker decides.  “We go with him,” he declares.  “We need place to rest, heal.” 

“But tell him that if he tries to screw us over, I’m taking a wing and a leg.”  Naomi glares sternly at the urd.  Even without knowing what she has said, he squeaks and cringes.

_*Next Time:*_ To Aid the Urds!


----------



## hippiejedi2

haha beau almost crit the poor urd, a pc, in the air before it met the party. (oops) But we had been pursued constantly on the island and both as a player and in character felt like a shoot first ask later policy would be wise counsel on this island all thingss considered.


----------



## the Jester

hippiejedi2 said:
			
		

> haha beau almost crit the poor urd, a pc, in the air before it met the party. (oops)  But we had been pusued constantly on the island and both as a player and in character felt like a shoot first ask later policy would be wise counsel on this island all thingss considered.




I love this player feedback stuff you're posting, keep it up!    It encourages me to update more.  You and Angel of Adventure have found the way to help me catch up...!


----------



## omrob

*Long Live Ethel*



			
				the Jester said:
			
		

> Only one ogre is still standing.  Ethel is darting in at him, but he’s ready for her.  He swings his club in a smooth upstroke, catching her just below the chin.  She gives out a horrible, agonized yelp- and then no more.  Ethel’s neck shatters, killing her.




Federico composed and performed several lamentations for Ethel that involved a lot of  crying and barking...

The sad thing about that too was that Federico was too weak to carry any of his food, extra crossbow bolts, or shiny little trinkets that were in the saddlebags on Ethel. I think Martini or the Chief helped him out for a while as the beast of burden...


----------



## the Jester

Current Party Lineup:

Naomi (psion 5, LE)
Timothy (sorc 6, CG)
Federico (kobold bard 4/sorc 2, CG)
Beau (rog 4/sor 1, CE)
Jawbreaker (barb 5, CG)
Martini (rng 3/ftr 1, LE)
Achtung (urd fighter 3, NE)
Sandy (rog 4/ftr 2, LE)


----------



## the Jester

*To Aid the Urds*

_*5/20/369 O.L.G.*_
The urds are a strange race.  Their little scaly wings are a definite improvement on the standard kobold model (just ask them and they’ll tell you), and were their kind more clever they could probably rise to some level of prominence.  After all, they breed quickly.  Only their racial ineptitude and stupidity prevented them from becoming more influential in the world around them.

Usually, urds- like kobolds- are at the bottom of whatever pecking order they are a part of.  Here, on the islands our heroes will shortly christen the Dogtooth Islands, is no exception.  The urds are spat on and kicked around even by the goblins.  It’s just the way things are, and the urds accept it with the sort of fatalism known only by those used to be kicked around by goblins.  But lately, things have gotten much worse.  Some new Master has taken control of the isle’s bigwigs, and they in turn have gotten much more careless with urd lives.  The urds are being worked too hard; so their chief set out to make a deal with the outsiders who were so disturbing things outside.

Thus our heroes, after a journey fraught with the perils of goblin scouts, giant bats and worse, have met with the urd chief and agreed to help him in return for a safe place to rest.  They have taken their ease for a day, resting and recovering from their long flight; and now they prepare to delve deep towards the Master of the island.

Federico sighs unhappily as the party leaves the urd chambers.  He’s had rather too much romance here.  One of the chief’s daughters secretly sought him out for some sweet lovemaking, and the next day the chief arranged to marry Federico to his daughter with Jawbreaker.  Feddie had made the obvious assumption, that it was his lover, but after acquiescing unhappily (he really didn’t have much choice in the matter; it was all arranged by the chiefs), he discovered to his horror that the urd had betrothed him to a _different_ daughter.  Will his affair with his betrothed’s sister come out?  How much of an insult will this prove to the urds if it does?  Is there some kind of out?  The kobold worries about it.  _Hopefully overthrowing this Master will count for something,_ he thinks.

Well, at least Chief Jawbreaker offered to carry his few items.  With his meager strength, Federico can barely manage to bear a crossbow and some bolts, much less any actual gear.*  Without Ethel... he sniffs... without Ethel to bear his burdens, he must burden his friends.  He needs a new dog as soon as possible.  

Following the urds’ directions our heroes travel through secret passages known only to the winged kobolds.  Eventually they work their way into an artificial passageway and start hurrying along.  Almost instantly they find an intersection- and goblin guards.

Federico immediately starts japing at the goblins while the Beau and Jawbreaker spring forward, drawing their weapons.  A harsh babble rises from the throats of the goblins as they start to fall back.  One of them, then another, falls.  Another flees down a different passage, and then it’s just the hooded ettin.

Behind them, down one arm of the passage, a large door opens and a hulking ettin stalks out.  His heads are both hooded; his skin has a yellow jaundiced look.  With a roar, it advances, obviously wary.  But its slow forward movement allows Beau time to hit it with a _ray of enfeeblement_, so it retreats swiftly to the chamber it emerged from.

Jawbreaker snarls and rushes to the door.  He flings it open, and right behind him, Timothy casts a _flaming sphere_ onto the ettin. 

The ettin has retreated to a room full of preserved jars of body parts.  One particularly large jar at the end of the room flickers with electricity.  A disembodied brain floats in a solution of brine within it.  

Suddenly, Jawbreaker reels and then whirls around to strike at Beau!  “Aagh!” the rogue cries, “Jawbreaker, no!”

Then, suddenly, Beau cries out as a smashing pain tears into his head.  Blood begins to trickle from his ear.  “Watch out,” he groans, “it has psionic powers like Naomi!”

Timothy frowns.  Naomi isn’t very nice.  And his new spectacles show a black, flickering aura around the brain in the jar.  He moves his _flaming sphere_ onto the jar, then hits the ettin with a brace of _magic missiles._  He hears the japing kobold fire his crossbow at the two-headed giant as well.  

Then, suddenly, the ettin charges Federico, slamming him with a blow from his club.  The kobold staggers back, more than impressed by the power of the blow, and does the only thing he really can: he reloads.

Jawbreaker, meanwhile, is pressing Beau hard.  Beau is focusing his attacks on the jar, using his bow, and though the jar is cracking, Beau is increasingly unsure whether he’ll live long enough to break it open.  “Jawbreaker, resist it!” he cries.  “The brain is controlling you!  You’ve got to fight it!”

Jawbreaker hesitates for one second.  Beau tumbles back, trying to get under a table covered in jars of organs, but Jawbreaker is too savvy.  He strikes Beau with another mighty blow, and the rogue collapses in a bloody heap on the floor.  Then the barbarian turns to strike Timothy.  The sorcerer shouts out, “Chief Jawbreaker, no!  As your advisor I advise you not to do this!!”

He drops back a few feet, hitting the ettin jaw with another _flaming sphere._  Suddenly it bursts, liquid flowing out and a shriveled grey brain flopping to the ground.  Immediately Jawbreaker’s hand flies to his forehead and he gasps, free of the mental influence of the brain.

“Good job, Timothy,” Federico calls, and then fires another bolt at the ettin.  This one slices into the ettin’s ankle, destroying the joint and blowing a hole in it!  The ettin howls and jerks, and its foot comes off with a sick burst of blood, and the creature collapses.  

“We’ve done it!” cries Timothy.  Federico, meanwhile, hurries over to Beau and uses a _cure light wounds_ on him, preventing his imminent death.

The party just begins to look around the room when Federico calls out, “I hear approaching goblins!”  With a collective curse, our heroes prepare to defend themselves yet again. 

”Was that really the master?” wonders Timothy.

Then the a small group of goblins herded by a bugbear arrives, and there is a minute where it looks ugly; but Timothy whips out his _wand of lightning bolts_ and teaches the bugbear a thing or two.  The goblins fall, except the last one, which begs for mercy and gets it, in an unexpected fashion.

“What your name?” demands Jawbreaker.  Timothy translates.

“Coxith,” the trembling goblin answers.

“NO!” roars Jawbreaker.  “Your name is _Ethel!!_”  The goblin cringes back.  Soon it is made to understand, and it is bearing Federico’s gear.

***

_*5/23/369 O.L.G., the brain in the jar’s dungeon*_ 

The brain in the jar was indeed the Master, and without its direction the island’s unity begins to fall apart.  A particularly dangerous bugbear shaman who was trying to unify several tribes of goblins under his rule falls in battle with our heroes when they go to explore the brain in a jar’s realm more thoroughly, but mostly the collapse happens on its own.  They give ‘Ethel’ a backpack to help him carry stuff, for which he is profoundly grateful.  

The dungeon yields its secrets; it is fairly small, and most of the inhabitants have already been slain by our heroes.  The trash heap proves very traditional, having an otyugh at its center and a good number of fat, large rats.  Our heroes do a little extermination, then find the otyugh’s treasure among the filth.  They manage to separate out 248gp.  In addition they find a small diamond and, with the aid of a _detect magic,_ a scroll.  Federico casts _read magic_ on it; it contains _enlarge person, silent image,_ and a rare spell called _paint memory_.

So far things are going well.  The urd chief even gives the party a chest full of 5000 coins.  They’re copper, but they’re coins.  Our heroes bury it along with a bunch of other copper and Timothy makes the most ridiculous treasure map ever to Chief Jawbreaker’s Treasure Horde.

***

_*5/28/369 O.L.G., the island’s surface*_

After a stern conversation with Federico in which the enraged urd chief makes clear that he is never to return on pain of death, the party leaves the urds’ territory in a hurry.  Achtung is exiled with them.  He splutters and protests, but since he has traveled briefly with them, he suffers guilt by association.

So, unhappily, the urd joins them.  He whines a lot, but soon discovers that there will be regular meals.  Even better, when some bacon attacks the party, he begins to see just how good everything is when it’s wrapped in bacon.  As Federico is fond of saying, everything is better with bacon.

_*Next Time:*_ Will ‘Ethel’ survive?  What will Chief Jawbreaker’s Second Treasure Horde contain?  Where’s the idol??  Find out the answers next time!

*Never forget that Feddie has a strength of 1.


----------



## Brain

the Jester said:
			
		

> Timothy makes the most ridiculous treasure map ever to Chief Jawbreaker’s Treasure Horde.



Timothy meant well and tried to come up with a real treasure map but he has very low wisdom and a childlike mentality.  I'd post the map (since it is mostly text), but I don't have it.  Maybe the Jester will post it so that the readers can get an idea of just how rediculous it is.

The idea of burying treasure and making a map was great, and reminded us of Dogtooth. (more piratey goodness).  I wonder if someone in the future will find the map and try to follow it, only to find 5000 copper pieces.


----------



## hippiejedi2

now would be a good time, since there are two sorcerors in the party, to introduce the halfling concept of the battle sorceror.  Basically its a sorceror who fights on the front line w/the i'll protect logic.  try to tell timothy to hang back while his friends get beat up.

another tidbit of halfling arcane lore is the ray of enfeeblement or as beau has come to call it the the halfling equalizer, as the recipients str is reduced to that of a halfling.


----------



## the Jester

*The Idol*

_*5:30 p.m.*_

After some discussion, the party decides to draw straws for two items that they have picked up that radiate magic: a suit of studded leather armor and a dagger.  Chuief Jawbreaker gains the armor and Naomi the dagger.  

As the sun sinks down below the horizon and a blustery wind rises, Naomi sighs.  “I wish we could find this damn idol!”

“Well, we’ve searched all over- we’re bound to find it soon.”  Martini tries to sound reassuring.

“Besides, we’re stuck on these islands,” Beau says.  “At least we have something to do.”

“And don’t forget, my people said that there are more ancestral ruins here,” Achtung points out.

They make camp and prepare to sleep.  Ethel, Federico’s new ‘beast of burden’ (or goblin of burden, as the case may be), cringes whenever anyone looks at him.  Jawbreaker snorts.  “Stupid goblin,” he says.

***

_*5/29/369 O.L.G., 11 a.m.*_

It’s a beautiful day and our heroes have clearly seen some ruins up hill from them a few miles.  They move through the tangled undergrowth, Martini and Jawbreaker blazing the trail the others are following.  The sounds of birdsong and the chatter of exotic animals in the trees is constant.  The grunting of our heroes as they hike along is the halfling accompaniment.  

As they head uphill they meet another shipwrecked human, this one named Quentin.  His speech is strangely accented; he claims to be from a place far to the west called Pesh.  He is slight of build, sunburned, with a swarthiness to his complexion.  His hair is reddish-blond, bleached by the sun.  He offers to join forces with the halflings, obviously more shipwreck victims.  He explains that there are goblins all over the island, and that they will kill a man without provocation.

“They’re all over _all_ these islands,” Federico remarks.

“As you say,” Quentin says.  He shrugs.  “I am a skilled sailor if you have need of one, and I know where there is a hidden treasure.”

“You okay,” Jawbreaker declares.  “You no Dogtooth, but you okay.  Chief Jawbreaker says you come with us.”

Quentin nods.

“Lead us to treasure,” Jawbreaker commands.

Quentin is as good as his word.  He leads the group through an area of gnarled brush, then to a massive fallen tree leading onto an isolated spur of rock beside a waterfall (which reminds Timothy of the fey of the waterfall that he has met twice).  Uncertain whether or not it’s a trap, the party leaves Ethel behind, admonishing him to wait for them.  Federico takes his crossbow and bolts, but leaves the rest of his gear on the goblin.  Then they follow Quentin as he leads them behind the waterfall, where a small cave is concealed.  Hidden in the floor of the cave is a secret trap door.  Below it is a sealed wooden chest.  Within _that_ are coins worth somewhat over 500 gp and a silver and platinum sword that later fetches the party almost 1000 gold.  Among the coins are almost 5000 copper pieces.

“You know what I’m thinking,” Federico says. 

The party re-seals the copper in the chest, concealing it again beneath the trap door again.  Then Timothy draws a second treasure map while everyone giggles madly.

Then it’s time for bacon in the well-concealed cavern.

***

_*5/30/369 O.L.G., 9 a.m.*_

A quick breakfast, during which Naomi continues to work on getting Federico to accpet the idea of eating human, and then our heroes head back out past the waterfall.  “You could just gnaw on a bone, right?” she urges him.  “That’s not really eating it, right?”

As they pass out of the waterfall, Federico exclaims, “Aw man, Ethel’s gone!”  He looks around in dismay.  “I knew I should have come and got him last night!”

“Maybe we should have treated him nicer,” Timothy says ponderously.

“Stupid goblin,” Jawbreaker grunts.  The kobold only sighs. 

“Maybe we can track him,” Martini suggests.  He and Jawbreaker cast about for tracks while Timothy demonstrates a new spell of his and takes to the air.

“Hey, look, guys, I can _fly!_” Timothy shrieks with joy. 

“Great, Tim,” sighs Martini, “but you’re supposed to be looking for things, not attracting a lot of attention.”

While the sorcerer flies about obliviously, Martini, Jawbreaker and Beau sneak forward along the trail, which soon leads to a cave with goblins guarding it.  Beau slits one of their throats from the shadows, and the other goblins flee.  

The party moves up; but almost immediately, a counterattack led by a bugbear forms.  Our heroes rout the first wave, but then a goblin spellcaster arrives, throwing a volley of _magic missiles_ at the party.  One missile zips into Martini, one blasts Federico and one blows Quentin into unconscious.  The Peshan sailor lies twitching and bleeding.  But he is no seasoned adventurer; our heroes are.  They tear through the goblins, destroy the bugbear and gracefully accept the spellcaster’s surrender.  

“We’re looking for an idol,” Naomi says.  “Taken from another one of these islands.”  Timothy translates into goblin.  

The spellcaster sags.  “We have your idol.  Will you let us go if we give it back to you?”

“Of course we will,” answers Timothy.

***

At last they have the idol.  The next few days are spent returning it; and then our heroes are freed of a strange compulsion that has crawled on the back of the necks of several of the individuals that were at the other ruin when Naomi was _restored._ 

As they ride their outrigger boat to a nearby island, they see a whale surface not far from them.  “Hail!” cries Federico.  

The whale’s great brown eye turns to look at him.  “Haaaail,” it booms back.  

Our heroes exchange glances.  “Maybe it can help us leave,” suggests Sandy.

Another exchanged glance.  “We’re stranded here!” shouts Federico to the whale.  “Can you help us get somewhere civilized?”

The whale rolls partway over.  “I caaaan heeeeelp yoooou,” it squeals.  Its vocal apparatus is significantly different than any in the throats our heroes possess.

They talk for a time.  The whale is named Weeweerinwee.  It suggests to them that if they build a harness, it can carry them to the nearest civilized island- Dyshim.  Our heroes have heard of it, but only in name- none of them knows a single thing about it.  However, that is no deterrent.  They miss civilization badly; although, truth to tell, these isles seem well stocked with bananas, mangoes and, most important, bacon.  Would it be so bad to remain here?  

But then again, they can always come back.   

The whale agrees to come back in a few days to give them time to make the harness., and then the party and the whale part ways for a time.   

That night they are attacked by giant crabs, and after the battle is over they have an immediate crab roast. 

_*Next Time:*_ Riding the whale!


----------



## Brain

Some bits to add:
The cave with the chest was a puzzle of sorts, we couldn't get the trap door open.  We tried all sorts of things, and when we ran out of stuff to try, Timothy got bored and started flying around in the cave.  He found a clue on the ceiling that lead to the opening of the chest.

Timothy hid the two treasure maps in the spellbook he had (taken from the advisor on another island) at this point in the story.

Weeweerinwee is cool.  And whale riding sounds like fun! (we'll see if it actually is)


----------



## SeldomSeen

Haha!  That session was awesome.  I loved marrying off Federico after Jawbreaker had spent time in an unsavory forced marriage.  Then the treasure map, that about killed me.  Hands down,  Worst.  Treasure Map.  EVER.  I dearly hope that one day some adventures toil over that map, spending thousands of gold on divinations and travel only to find a chest full of copper.  I also had great fun turning that poor goblin captive into federico's new pack animal.  They took away Ethel, it's only fair they replaced her!


----------



## SeldomSeen

Dang, yet another update as I wrote my post!  Hopefully, we will end up with buried Chief Jawbreaker treasure all over Cydra, with each succesive chest of copper convincing people that the REAL treasure is buried elswhere.  Also, I guess we just left the load of spices on Dogtooth Island.  We never found the huge diamond that was rumored to be around either.  Jawbreaker doesn't really know why they left the Islands, after all, they had everything a halfling could want.  Plenty of wild Bacon, exotic fruits, fish, goblins to subjugate, and giants to provide a challenge.


----------



## Brain

Oh yeah, we left "Ethel 2" with the tribe of goblins that had the idol.  "Ethel 2" liked it there better than with the party, and Timothy wouldn't let the party enslave a goblin (although some of the ones with black auras wanted to)


----------



## the Jester

*Riding the Whale*

_*6/11/369 O.L.G., at sea*_

Our heroes meet up with Weeweerinwee the whale at the appointed time, spotting him by his blowhole.  After some banter with him, he reveals that he’s actually a she.  Whoops. How’s a halfling to know?

“It’s ooooookaaaaaay,” the whale says, “I can’t teeellll about yooooouuu eiiiiither.”

The party spent several days constructing a harness that will slip over the whale’s body and fit over her flukes.  They attach themselves to it and ready themselves for a whale riding experience unlike anything they have ever experienced.  They have food on hand, fresh water and wine- they’re ready.

“How long do you suppose this is going to take?” wonders Naomi.

“A feeewww daaaaayys,” the whale answers.

Then she begins to swim forward.  The vines woven into lines holding our heroes fast behind the whale grow taut and our heroes are pulled through the water.  At first it’s fun; but after an hour it’s brutal.  The party gasps for breath as the whale moves quickly through the water just below the surface.  The bump along the surface, constantly battered by waves.  

By the time they’ve been out for a day, all of them have sunburns.  They have also discovered how hard it is to eat when moving through the water.  Federico tries to keep their spirits up by cracking jokes, but the little kobold can only go so far. 

The grueling journey lasts three days and two nights.  By the time it’s nearly over, our heroes are ready for it to have been over for a long time.  It’s incredibly hard on them, leaving them all fatigued and groaning.  When Weeweerinwee explains that they have to swim the last little way ashore- it’s too dangerous for her to go closer to shore or to approach a boat- they have a nice big taste of despair.  But they can see the beach- they’re so close!  Timothy casts _fly_ on himself and Thelonious, who carries Beau and pulls Naomi with a rope.  The more fit Martini and Jawbreaker swim in, though at the end Martini nearly flounders, and Thelonious makes an unseen, half-hearted attempt to take the helmet from him.  But he lets the opportunity pass as Martini recovers and finishes his journey to shore.

Gasping, exhausted, our heroes stumble up the beach past the high tide mark and collapse behind a sandy embankment.  It’s late morning; when they wake up it’s evening.  They build a fire and cook a meal, then plan to rest and finish drying out.  Tomorrow they will set out and look for civilization. 

But in the night, Beau notices a distant scarlet glow coming closer.  Pointing it out to his friends, he wonders what it is.  

Whatever it is is approaching.

A voice booms out of the darkness before them.  *”BOW BEFORE DHALI!!”* it shrieks.  

“Uh-oh,” says Timothy.

Striding forward is what seems to be some sort of living volcano.

_*Next Time:*_ On Dyshim, our heroes face a living volcano!  Get a little better idea of where they are next time as they look around and find out more themselves!


----------



## the Jester

Looks like time for another roll call... as I was working on the next update, I realized that three of our heroes now have just reached prestige classes!

*Martini:* fighter 2/ranger 3/order of the bow initiate 1 (overall 6th)
*Timothy:* sorcerer 6/exalted arcanist 1 (overall 7th)
*Naomi:* psion 5/elementalist 1 (overall 6th)
*Beau:* rogue 4/sorcerer 3 (overall 7th)
*Thelonoius:* (human) ranger 3/fighter 1 (overall 4th)
*Jawbreaker:* barbarian 6 (overall 6th)
*Achtung:* urd fighter 3 (overall ECL 4)
*Federico:* kobold bard 4/sorcerer 2/jester 1 (overall 7th)


----------



## the Jester

*The Living Volcano*

It’s as if someone has shrunken a volcano to the size of an ogre, ripped it out of the ground, stuck stocky legs below it and given it arms of stone.  A flare of light emits from the top of the cone; its ‘face’ seems to be across its entire body.  Glowing eyes and a mouth full of fire fill its ‘torso’ (for lack of a better term).

“BOW BEFORE DHALI!” the living volcano roars again.

Timothy _slows_ it and draws his dagger.  He’s shaking in fright.  The volcano roars slowly as the spell takes hold; and then Thelonious and Martini start firing at it.  Martini feels as though he’s achieved new insights into his bow as he lands a telling arrow in the volcano’s center.*

With another slow roar, the living volcano erupts.  Flames and burning rock and ash blast out in all directions.  Naomi and Thelonious are far enough back not to be caught in the explosion, but the rest of the part is.  Timothy staggers away, coughing, and casts a _magic missile_ that hurts the volcano, but it is far from defeated.  Then the volcano charges in at Timothy, swinging its basalt arm in a terrific blow that blackens the sorcerer’s eye and nearly knocks him from his feet!

“Take this, creature!” Naomi cries, and forces it to _recall agony_ from a past wound.  It roars, and then Timothy touches it with a _shocking grasp,_ further angering it.  Beau backs away from the enraged monster and tries to cast a _magic missile_ at it.  Unfortunately, his armor, light as it is, interferes with his movements and spoils his spell.  He lets out a colorful series of halfling curses as the monster aims another blow at Timothy (who is barely standing)!  Fortunately the blow misses.  Timothy tries another _shocking grasp_ but he misses, then staggers behind Naomi.

Mindful of the irony, she says, “Don’t worry, Timothy- I’ll protect you!”

Meanwhile, more arrows are smacking into the basalt body of the living volcano.  It roars again as Beau finally manages a successful _magic missile._  The living volcano rushes in, bellowing, and strikes Naomi a powerful blow across the shoulder. 

_Skreeeeee!_

Naomi sags back, more than half-dead.  But to her satisfaction, her sonic _energy retort_ did its job and gave her a little time!  The volcano’s surface shows cracks now; its inner glow is starting to show through from within.  “Take _that!_” she shrieks at it, hitting it with the strongest _mind thrust_ she can muster.

The living volcano staggers back and collapses.  Slowly the burning magma within it begins to hiss and cool.  

“Well, we can’t eat that,” notes Beau.

***

_*6/12/369 O.L.G., the Sere Lands, Dyshim*_

Morning wakes our heroes gently.  There’s a nice breeze from the east, where the sea is.  _If only any of us had any idea where we’re going,_ Martini thinks ironically.

The land here is golden-brown with dried grass.  Flat plains spread for miles in all directions, bordered by the sea on the one hand and a distant chain of mountains on the other, dotted with scrubs and olive trees.  The grasslands prove full of abundant life, from hares to wolves.  Many birds spiral above the planes, and at one point our heroes see something else, something bigger, in the distant sky.  The climate is warm, and the lands- at least on this side of the mountains- are fairly dry.  There is a lot of wind.  There also seems to be some active volcanism on the isle.  

The group rests a day to recover from their battle with the living volcano.  The next day the band travels inland.  Throughout the day they watch for any signs of civilization, but they see nothing.  At one point, they are ambushed by an ill-fated pair of harpies, but although they charm Timothy and Jawbreaker, Thelonious and Beau shoot the filthy bird-women down. 

***

_*6/15/369 O.L.G., 3:30 p.m.*_

The big lizard is roasting up nicely.  Jawbreaker grunts in satisfaction.  Smells good, too- better than a lot of the crap he sometimes eats.  Chief Jawbreaker smacks his lips.  Times are good.

Suddenly Beau springs back, crying, “Look out!”

“Wha-“ starts Naomi, and the ground beneath her heaves upward.  She gives a surprised shout, and suddenly something _very big_ bites down on her leg.

“LANDSHARK!!!” shouts Beau.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes fight a bullette!


*Martini has now taken his first level as an order of the bow initiate.


----------



## hippiejedi2

Before our halfling heroes left the Dogtooth Isles, we encountered a group of goblins. Timothy thought diplomacy wouold be an adequate route, but Beau being the CE goodness that comes w/it decided sneak attack , kill em, and take any treasure would be more advantageous and profitable. While many goblins and company died some lived much to Beau's chagrin. Before every sneak attack Tim implored peace, but Beau was well hidden and had his own ideas, besides Tim was only the advisor of Chief Jawbreaker. 

The escape from the Dogtooth Isles was bittersweet the party misunderestimated the words of the whale, Weeweerinwee, I'll take you back to civilization as I'll tow your rigger, not to invent the sport of water skiing. We made it safely to shore, so after second breakfast all was forgiven.


----------



## the Jester

*Landshark!!!*

What could possibly be more terrifying than this?

The huge monster emerges from the ground in a spray of soil and rocks.  Naomi screams in fear and tries to _mind thrust_ it, but in her panic she fails to keep her guard up and it bites her savagely, shaking her from side to side and tossing her down, only to savage her again!  She screams in terrible pain as its broad teeth grind down on her chest, almost crushing her sternum.  It chomps down and she convulses into unconsciousness.

Beau backpedals, casting a _ray of enfeeblement_ on the landshark.  Its terrible red eyes glare at him as a tiny portion of its strength drains away.  Then Jawbreaker rushes forward, taking a bite on the arm as he does, and swings his sword at the huge monster.  A scarlet line appears across the creature.

Cursing, Beau tries another _ray of enfeeblement,_ but his armor interferes with his movement.  He fails to get it off and curses again.  Who can blame him?  This is the second time recently that his armor has foiled a spell.  He vows then that he’ll remove that damn armor soon.  Taking a deep breath, the budding sorcerer fires yet another _ray of enfeeblement_ at the bullette, and this time it is a little more effectual.  

The monster snorts like a bull and bites Jawbreaker, then butts him with its head to get him out of the way.  He staggers back and the bullette rushes towards Beau.  “Oh no!” he squeaks, and he tries to run away, but it bites him on the leg and gives him a massive shake.  The thing spits him to the ground in front of it and bellows, obviously about the administer the finishing touch, when Jawbreaker jams the tip of his sword into it from behind.  It bellows again, but Beau quickly and defensively casts _shocking grasp._  As the bullette whirls to once again face the mighty Jawbreaker, Beau reaches out and touches its genitals.  *ZZZOT!!!*  The bullette bellows again and staggers.  Beau rolls away, and just in time, as Timothy casts a _fireball_!  The bullette is blasted into instant death.

“Whew!  That was close!” exclaims Beau.

Our heroes quickly check on Naomi.  She’s still breathing weakly, so they bandage her wounds tightly, staunching the flow of blood from her wounds.  “We need cleric,” remarks Jawbreaker.

Next on the list of things to do is eat.  After that, Jawbreaker declares, he will skin the beast.  “Maybe spend couple days here,” he states.

***

_*6/16/369 O.L.G., 4 p.m.*_

Certainly, our heroes are enjoying the chance to sit around and rest their feet.  Jawbreaker hums happily as he works on the tough job of skinning the monster.  It’s huge, and its skin is tougher to work with than anything he’s ever experienced.  It is almost more like working wood than skin.  

When he looks up, the gnolls are just outside the camp.

Jawbreaker freezes, then drops his skinning knife.  He calmly draws out his sword.  They don’t seem hostile- yet.

The gnolls look like upright, bipedal hyenas.  In Jawbreaker’s opinion, gnolls are stupid, lazy, mangy, worthless creatures.  But there are a... reasonable number of them here.  Maybe they can avoid a fight.  

One of the gnolls says something, but it’s in a tongue nobody understands.  There are a few minutes of confusion as they seek for a common language, and eventually they settle for dwarven, which one or two members of each side can speak.  It develops that the gnolls are very curious about what happened to the landshark.

“We kill it,” Jawbreaker guffaws.  Clearly the gnolls are impressed.  However, this is their land (they claim).

“Tell you what,” Jawbreaker grunts, “you give us passage and directions _out_ of your land, we give you bullette.”

This is a trade where everyone wins.  The gnolls tell our heroes that other folk like them live beyond the mountains to the west, and then beyond the jungles west of the mountains.  Jawbreaker grunts again, this time acknowledging a piece of good news.

The next morning our heroes move bright and early towards the mountains.  They set a good pace, and though they stop to eat, they do not stop to eat as many times as usual.  As a result they eat an extra big dinner that night, in the shadow of the mountains.  “Tomorrow we’ll be in the mountains,” Timothy remarks.

The sun goes down.  Watches are set.  Sleep draws down over our heroes like sand over a desert city.

_*Next Time:*_ Paralyzed!


----------



## the Jester

*Paralyzed!*

_*6/17/369 O.L.G., 1 a.m., in the shadow of the mountains, Dyshim

”TURKEY!!!!”*_

The cry in the night wakes our heroes, except for Beau, who was on watch and is under furious assault by two giant insects that look remarkably like great wasps or hornets of some kind.  As the other struggle to their feet, he dashes away from one to slash at the other.

“Where is the turkey?” Timothy cries naively.  “The bugs have taken it!  Bad bugs!”  He casts _slow_ at them, but to his surprise they both resist it.  One of the wasp things stabs at Beau with its wicked stinger, but again he flips adroitly away from it.  The other one flies over to Naomi, who has managed to open her eyes and sit up, but she’s still entangled in her bedroll.  The wasp-thing’s stinger jabs into her belly.  She gasps in pain as she feels venom pump into her.  She wrenches herself back and away, feeling nauseated.  The bug stings her again, jamming its stinger into her chubby thigh.  She tries to manifest a power defensively, but she’s in too much pain; and it just looks like it’s going to get worse.  “Help!!” she screams.

Beau glances her way but he’s too busy dodging the stinger of his antagonist at the moment.  With a grimace, he casts a spell.  He can fight back, at least.  He touches the mad insect that’s trying to prick him with its stinger and there is a smell of ozone and a crackle of electricity.  It jerks as the _shocking grasp_ jolts through it.  Then he steps back and casts an enfeebling ray at the one predating on Naomi.  It writhes as it loses some of the strength in its limbs.  Then he has to focus fully on his opponent again as it buzzes in at him.

Jawbreaker, meanwhile, has thrown off his blanket and rushed in to prevent Beau’s bug from a move towards Naomi as well.  He stabs at it with his longspear, wounding it badly, just as a _fireball_ detonates on the one attacking Naomi.  It gives another wild jab at her with its stinger, but thanks to the _ray of enfeeblement_ it misses! 

“Don’t worry, Naomi!  I’ll protect you!”  Timothy strides forward boldly, his lips already beginning to mutter the words to another spell.  A _flaming sphere,_ then another _fireball,_ as the hornet-like monster tries to flee; but then it turns and swoops back towards the party!

Beau and Jawbreaker are now flanking the other wasp, however, and with a sneaky blow to the eye with a _shocking grasp_ Beau manages to kill it.  Gasping for breath, he turns to aid Timothy and Naomi with a _magic missile_.  

_One of them is down,_ thinks Naomi grimly as she fails to manifest power after power.*  Finally, as it closes in (now burning from Timothy’s mighty _fireballs_), she manages to focus enough to get one right.  A _recall agony_ forces it to relive the _fireball_ it just experienced, and it spasms and dies.

“Ow, that sucked really bad,” Naomi groans.  She drags herself to her knees.  Her vision is swimming.  “I can’t feel my legs.  I think I’m poisoned.  Can anyone...”  She gasps- and collapses, unmoving.

“Naomi!” exclaims Timothy.  “Oh no!  Is she okay?”

Jawbreaker examines her.  Her finds no signs of life.  “She dead,” he says sadly, and begins to dig a grave for her.  It is only when Timothy realizes that she still has an aura with his magic spectacles that they check again.  She still looks good and dead; but then she _mindlinks_ with Jawbreaker to tell them she’s only paralyzed.  At first he thinks that spirit voices are talking to him, and he pokes himself in the head with a stick.  Then, once she explains, he relaxes.  In the end, he builds a sling for her and ties her to his back to try it out.

“Fat girl,” he comments as he hefts her.  She beams inwardly.** 

The party ends up resting a full day, but unfortunately she remains paralyzed.  “I wonder how long this is going to last,” wonders Timothy.

_Me too,_ Naomi thinks.

The time passes uneventfully, except for a few hairy moments when Jawbreaker nearly chokes Naomi to death trying to feed her.

***

_*6/20/369 O.L.G., 5 p.m., on Split Peak*_

Our heroes have moved into the mountains.  Though they don’t know it, the mountain chain is called Dhali’s Fists.

In the sky, exchanging glimpses of each other with the party, is some sort of large winged creature.  

“Whatever it is, if it come close enough, Jawbreaker eat it.”  The Chief guffaws.

Naomi, alas, can still not move.  She can communicate with the others via _mindlink_ but she’s snarky, bored and irritated.  _I hope this wears off!_ she tells Beau telepathically.  _I hope I’m not paralyzed forever!_

***

_*6/21/369 O.L.G., noon, the foot of the mountains*_

Our heroes have broken through the mountains, and now, ahead and below, a jungle spreads before them.  It looks wet, hot, thick, steaming.  The vegetation seems almost stepped into layers, from near the ground to high above.  Even at this distance they can smell the strange perfumes produced by the alien flowers within.  Here and there the party can make out a flash of movement: birds, monkeys, something hooved.

Another hour and they enter under the canopy.  The air grows thicker, more humid.  The temperature rises.  Moisture is everywhere.  Flowers, too.  Little streams cut the ground everywhere, and some places the ground is nearly soft enough to be a marsh.  

Jawbreaker leads the way, probing cautiously with his stick.  However, it is from above that a voice hails.

”Who goes there?” it cries, in Strogassian.

Our heroes look up.  Dressed in mottled greens and browns, an elf is covering them with a bow.

“What are you?” the elf asks.  “You look like humans, but you’re too small to be any human I’ve ever seen.”

“Hello, sir elf!”  Timothy declares, “We’re a band of halflings!”

“Halflings?”  The elf frowns.  “What is a halfling?”

“Well,” says Beau, “a halfling is like a human _should_ be, just as a half-elf is what an _elf_ should be.”

The elf’s face turns as red as a tomato, contorting angrily.  He vanishes back into the woods.

“Wait, I don’t think that came out right,” mutters Beau.

***

Things get ugly after that.  The jungle is a hotbed of disease.  In a few days, Timothy, Naomi and Beau all get the dreaded disease known as the buzzing bowels.  “Oh, crap,” moans Beau.  Jawbreaker continues to care for Naomi, feeding and cleaning her, but he tries to rig her up so that she doesn’t need such constant maintenance.  (Once it becomes clear that the party is ill, they camp out to try to get past the disease.)

Boy, isn’t it funny how, just when you think things couldn’t get any worse- they do?

_*Next Time:*_ Things get worse!

*Over the course of a six round fight, Naomi failed, for one reason or another, to manifest three powers.  She was asleep for two rounds at the start.  

**To a halfling, of course, ‘skinny’ is a strong insult, while ‘fat’ is praise.


----------



## Brain

I had forgotten about the elves.  Maybe things wouldn't have gotten so much worse if we had befriended them.  Weren't there some dwarves in the Mountains also that we didn't manage to get along with too?


----------



## SeldomSeen

I had a good time with the aftermath of the hornet battle.  It was awesome, digging the grave, hearing voices, poking myself in the head with a stick to try to drive out the evil spirits.  However, in the first of many times where Jawbreaker does harm while trying to help out,  trying to feed Naomi didn't work out very well.  I had to try though, after all, halflings dread starving to death more than anything.  

There were some dwarves we met up with.  They didn't like us becuase we told them we hailed from Strogras.  They didn't trust us an inch after that.  They didn't fight us or anything, but weren't real helpful either.


Oh, and I'd just like to affirm that things get _much_ worse.


----------



## the Jester

*Things Get Worse*

_*6/27/369 O.L.G., 11 a.m., within Sriti’s Jungle*_

At last our heroes have managed to mostly overcome the buzzing bowels.  They push on through the jungle, Jawbreaker blazing a trail.  Naomi and Beau are still weak from their bout of the buzzing bowels, and Timothy is in the final stages of throwing it off.  The jungle is humid, with fat drops of water falling from leaves and frequent squalls of rain.  The air is fairly still under the thick canopy.  Our heroes chat as they go, passing over a small creek, then along a line of thick, squat trees.  Sweat trickles down halfling foreheads.  

Abruptly the party breaks into a small clearing.  On the other side is an enormous tiger with a savage, feral look to it.  Immediately it begins stalking towards them, tail whipping from side to side.  Naomi doesn’t wait for it to attack; she concentrates from her paralyzed position, forcing the tiger to recall terrible pain from a previous injury.  It yowls and starts to trot forward with a loud, threatening growl.  

Timothy tries to _slow_ it, but it shrugs off the spell.  The sorcerer gulps, pulling out his powerful _wand of lightning bolts_ as the tiger speeds towards him-

Then Jawbreaker leaps in front of the dire tiger and the two hack and tear at each other!  Blood sprays all over in huge splashes as each combatant deals unbelievable damage to the other.  The tiger leaves more and deeper cuts on the halfling, but Jawbreaker deals a blow that leaves the tiger momentarily dazed, and that allows him to press the advantage.  Roaring in triumph, he slams his longspear into the beast’s face, breaking its jaw!  

A flash of lightning from Timothy’s wand shoots across the monster’s hindquarters while Naomi keeps hammering at it mentally from the harness she’s attached to.  Finally, Beau steps in with a _shocking grasp_ and finishes the dire tiger off.

Jawbreaker is fairly badly wounded, but after some tending he insists he’s fine to travel, so our heroes move on.  Their chief proves as good as his word; but unfortunately, after they break for lunch Beau starts shivering.  “Don’t feel so good,” he says.

”Oh no!” exclaims Timothy.  “He’s coming down with the buzzing bowels!”

“No- it’s my head.  My eyes hurt.”  Worriedly, our heroes examine Beau’s eyes; they look extraordinarily bloodshot.  

“You haven’t been at the pipeweed without us, have you?” Naomi asks.  

Beau shakes his head.  “My vision’s getting blurry.  Ahh... I can’t see!  I’m blind!!!”

Jawbreaker and Timothy look at each other.  Naomi is paralyzed, Beau is blinded; how could things get any worse?

_*Next Time:*_ Things _continue_ to get worse!


----------



## hippiejedi2

Brain said:
			
		

> I had forgotten about the elves. Maybe things wouldn't have gotten so much worse if we had befriended them. Weren't there some dwarves in the Mountains also that we didn't manage to get along with too?




it had been a while since beau had spoken elven, hence the elf/halfelf mishap.

Beau has, at various points, used names of food as his battle cry like cake.  When on watch, he always yells out some sort of food, the party rises faster to the thought of an extra meal, as oppossed to fighting.


----------



## hippiejedi2

hey Jester halflings are NEVER fat, just festively plump


----------



## Brain

*Pie Fiend*

Halfling dream monster (from wotc april fools a year ago)


----------



## hippiejedi2

I would llike to refer (for no real reason) to one of the most knowledgable experts on halflings, J.R.R. Tolkien taken from the Hobbit "He (Bilbo) suddenly felt he would go without bed and breakfast to be thought fierce."


----------



## Brain

Eventually the horrible jungle journey will come to an end, but what kind of end?  Stay tuned and find out!


----------



## the Jester

*Things Get Even Worse!*

_*6/28/369 O.L.G., 1:30 p.m, near the western edge of Sriti’s Jungle*_

Sriti’s Jungle stinks of rotting vegetation mixed with the perfume of exotic flowers.  The juxtaposition of foul odor and pleasant aroma is gut-churning.  The mud beneath our heroes’ feet is sometimes deep enough for them to sink up to the ankles.  They slog along, following high ground when they can, but always taking Jawbreaker’s word as to which way is west.  West, towards the other side of the jungle.  West, towards open ground, with no canopy of trees blotting out the sun’s overhead rays.  Our heroes cannot help but hate and fear the jungle at this point.  It was just outside the eastern edge that Naomi was paralyzed by the huge wasp-like monster, and if she could wince as her travois is dragged along by the burly barbarian Jawbreaker, bouncing over rocks and roots and depressions, she would.  But her limbs, her face, everything remains incapable of movement.  It’s almost enough to make her cry- but unfortunately, that is currently impossible.  Beau, meanwhile, staggers along blindly, unable to see, Timothy leading him carefully.  It is fortunate, in a way, that Naomi needs to be dragged; otherwise, blind Beau would slow the group.

...but wait, it gets even worse.

As the sweat pours down the Chief’s face, as warm drops of water dribble from the canopy overhead and spatter across Timothy, the party heads up a small rise, then back down the other side, where- fortunately- the game trail they are currently walking along navigates between two pools of muddy water.  Cautiously, Jawbreaker watches the ground.  He knows all too well how easily quicksand can masquerade as solid ground.  If he had a hand free, he would poke the ground with a stick- but the sticks in his hands are supporting his paralyzed friend.  He grunts unhappily as the travois catches momentarily on a root, and he tugs at it to free it.

Timothy, meanwhile, continues to move forward carefully, leading his blind pal Beau behind him.  “Careful where you step, Beau!” he warns.  “There are a lot of roots here!”  As the group struggles across the uneven ground, none of them see the slow movement of what might at first be thought a log in each of the two pools of water to either side.  Timothy furrows his brow in concentration as he picks his way along the path, Beau following and Chief Jawbreaker after him.  Neither of them has any warning at all.

Suddenly there’s a huge eruption of water and mud as the monsters to either side surface.  Some sort of tentacle slaps out, wrapping around Timothy’s arm!  “Hey, look out!” he cries, and suddenly he yelps, jerked into the water.

“Timothy!” shouts Beau blindly.

Jawbreaker jerks his head up and his jaw drops.  Timothy starts screaming for help as some terrible monster resembling nothing more than a crocodile with two fleshy tendrils extruding from its mouth has snatched the sorcerer into the water- and into mortal danger!  With a growl, Jawbreaker drops Naomi- who grunts mentally- and starts to reach for his sword-

From behind him, the other creature strikes.  Suddenly Jawbreaker finds himself dragged into the muddy water by a pair of tentacles, pulled in by an unseen enemy behind him!

“Jawbreaker?” Beau asks in a wavering voice.  His only reply is a loud yell of rage as the barbarian... sees.... *RED.*

Upper arms flexing, Jawbreaker roars.  His face contorts in a snarl.  His hands bunch into fists.  The water in his palms is almost squeezed into steam as he gives out another enraged scream- and bursts free!  Whirling, he pulls out the sword he’d been reaching for before and deals the monster a terrific blow across the head, but its knobby hide absorbs much of the blow.  

Timothy, meanwhile, is struggling, but he’s too weak to break the monster’s grip.  Spluttering, he gargles, “Help!”  But Jawbreaker is a little busy- he’s trying to fend off the monster on him, fighting for his life.  He dares not break away while it remains a threat; even in his rage he recognizes this.  

Fortunately for Timothy, even paralyzed, Naomi retains her mental powers.  She focuses as best she can and tries to _mind thrust_ the monster busily chewing on her sorcerous ally, but to her chagrin she finds her mental blast deflects off it like water off a duck.  _Spell resistance,_ she thinks with dismay, _it has spell resistance!_  She bears down with her mind, trying again- and this time she forces it to recall the pain caused by a previous terrible experience.  Fortunately, the monster’s response is to retreat further into the water.  Unfortunately, it drags Timothy with it, crushing him in its jaws.  The sorcerer gives out a high-pitched shriek of pain and goes limp, unconscious- and worse, out of Naomi’s field of view.

_Great,_ thinks the psion in dismay.

Beau has done the one thing that he thinks might help.  In desperation, he has blindly cast a _shocking grasp,_ and he waves his charged hand around him.  “Be careful!” he yells.  “I’ve got a _shocking grasp_ up, don’t touch me!  Unless you’re... you’re whatever we’re fighting, and then I’ll touch _you!_”  But his voice cracks on the last word; he is largely bluffing.  Still, he can hear Jawbreaker frothing at the mouth and growling as he fights something almost right next to him.  Beau’s face contorts in a grimace; what he is about to do is so dangerous that it is almost suicidal.

Blindly, Beau steps up and reaches out.  

As if by a miracle, he brushes against one of the flailing tentacles.  However, his miracle runs out of juice right then, because he fails to penetrate its spell resistance.  “Dammit!” Beau shouts, stumbling back blindly.  

Timothy is on the verge of death.  If nobody saves him _right now_ it will be too late.  And nobody else is close enough. 

That leaves only one hope: Bob, Timothy’s bat familiar.

Bob drags Timothy’s _wand of lightning bolts_ out of his belt.  Flying up, squeaking in terror, the bat squints and tries to use the wand.  Nothing.  Desperate, it tries again, focusing all its will upon the wand, trying to influence the item- and finally it discharges a blast of lightning into the water!  *ZARK!*  The mud-covered crocodile-like monster writhes- and takes another bite out of Timothy.

Bob, flapping in the air, overburdened by the wand, reels.  A flash of pain and sorrow runs through the bat, and then a terrible emptiness settles in.  _Gone,_ the bat thinks.  _My friend is... gone._  A wash of sadness flows over the little bat, followed by another emotion: a thirst for revenge.

Another _lightning bolt_ shoots into the water, and another.  The bellowing of the monster is plainly audible, but it is not enough to satisfy the familiar.  _Die, monster!_ the bat thinks viciously.  _You killed my friend!_

Jawbreaker and the beast he’s facing are still toe-to-toe, but the barbarian is falling back, weakening.  The thing has smacked and bitten him until he’s severely injured.  Now he is forced to stagger away and quaff a healing potion- but as he does so, the monster’s tentacle whips out and slaps Beau across the face!  The halfling gives out an agonized cry, groping blindly for a target, and brushes against it; but again he feels his magic slough off of it harmlessly.  And suddenly he feels the tentacle wrap around his arm, and the next thing he knows he’s upside down, thrashing in the air and moving towards- 

OW!  A sudden bite tears flesh from his chest, ripping him open severely, and Beau screams in pain.  He can smell ozone from the repeated discharges of lightning off to his- well, over that way, anyhow.  “Timothy, help me!” he cries, not yet knowing that his friend is dead.  “HELP!”

Jawbreaker can barely stand.  He struggles with himself for a minute.  He could try to save Beau, risking everything- or he can grab Naomi and hustle her away to safety.  But he knows, damn well, that the tentacled croc is not on the edge of death, and he is... and based on how things have gone so far, that doesn’t look good at all.  No sir, not good at all...

Jawbreaker’s face contorts in sorrow as he glances at Beau one last time, and then he picks up the travois and starts hauling Naomi as fast as he can.  

Naomi groans mentally.  She can’t see what’s happening, but it’s clearly not good.  As she jounces forward on her crude litter, facing behind her, she sees the lightning blasting off to one side, but there’s no sign of Timothy; and to the other side, she sees Beau struggling blindly in the grip of one of the monsters.  

_No!_ she thinks.  _It can’t end like this!_  She sends another _recall agony_ at Beau’s enemy, and to her relief it gets through the monster’s defenses.  But then her view is cut off by a screen of undergrowth.  

Beau, meanwhile, manages- somehow- to bring up another _shocking grasp._  He’s been mauled fairly badly, and one more good bite will finish him.  He’s dizzy, his head is spinning from being spun through the air, he doesn’t seem to have anyone helping him.  Things look ugly.  He smells the stink of a carnivore’s mouth opening right in front of his head, the carrion reek almost making him vomit. 

But there’s no time for that.  

He does the only thing he can; he reaches directly into the monster’s maw, and the _shocking grasp_ jolts into the monster with telling force.*  For an instant things start to grey out as the tentacles holding him squeeze brutally tight; then the go slack.  Coughing out water, Beau drags himself ashore.  He’s completely disoriented.  He doesn’t know which way to go, which way is which.  “Jawbreaker!  Timothy!  Help!” he coughs, exhausted, and then collapses onto the ground.  “Help,” he repeats weakly, to the all-encompassing darkness that is all he can see.  Even the sound of the lightning has stopped.

Slowly, alone, helpless, Beau starts weeping.

A moment later he feels a hand fall on his shoulder.  “Quick, Beau,” Jawbreaker grunts, “we go.”

Beau gasps.  “W-we made it?”  His voice shakes.

“Not all of us,” Jawbreaker says sadly.

He does not add that his vision is starting to fade.

_*Next Time:*_ At last our heroes’ jungle journey ends- but what kind of end is it??


*This goes down in my book as the single Most Needed Crit EVAR.  Yes, that’s right- despite a 50% miss chance, and being grappled, Beau got a critical hit with a _shocking grasp._


----------



## Brain

Ah Timothy.  I miss that character.  He was so naive and good and was always protecting people.  I imagined that he would go out in more of a martyr style, rather than dragged into a swamp by a tentacled crocodile.

Bob the bat, though not mentioned much in the Story, was a constant companion to Timothy along the way.  He was able to use Timothy's wand of _Lightning Bolt_ because Timothy had ranks in Use Magic Device.  He had to roll pretty well, and then beat the spell resistance, but managed to fend off one of the beasts.

On a side note, after this happened, I said to the others at the game that I might have to write up a story about what Bob did after this.  (He flew off into the jungle with the wand still clutched in his little feet)

Does anyone who reads this want me to write about that?  Or does that sound lame and boring?


----------



## the Jester

Don't know if _I_ count as a reader, but I'd like to see that.


----------



## threshel

I'm willing to bet that there isn't a single one of those tentacled crocs left in the jungle.

He is vengence, he is the night, he is...

Bob the Bat!

Alas, poor Timmy, ye hardly knew ye.

I love this storyhour.
Oh, have I said that before?

J


----------



## omrob

*More BOB Stories PLEASE!!!*

I must say - Timothy was one of my favorite characters in a LONG TIME. Kudos to brain for making us all laugh alot with Timothy's simple-minded heroism. Jester's group has been playing together with the same folks for more years than I can count, and brain (along with hippijedi2) were 2 new additions to our shenanigans. Timothy was the first PC brain got to play. Before Inoke I think - but not sure. Anyway - he was a great first character. 

We will all miss: 

The Treasure Maps  - though Federico is going to carry on with this tradition...

The halfling program...

and the trademark Timothy fighting stance....

Oh well - brain's new character is pretty fun. Y'all will meet him pretty soon.


----------



## hippiejedi2

Farewell Timmothy Advisor to the Chief, First Graduate of the Halfling Program, Master of the Torch and Dagger Style, Friend of the Fey, Expert Mapmaker, (and vicariously) Treasure Hunter Extrodinaire you whose appetite could never be quenched will surely be missed.

Dating back to the walking volcano guy, Beau had bad luck w/ concentration and arcane spell failure, which was rarely a problem. (the 15% for studded leather was more like 50%)  So Beau failed to cast many of his spells.  In addition, Beau and other party members came down w/ blinding sickness and buzzing bowels.  Then in the most recent update we had to contend with SR and with Beau being multiclassed it was that much more diffucult to penetrate SR.


----------



## Brain

*The continuined saga of Bob the Bat*

Bob the bat flew off into the jungle, not caring where he was going.  He clutched the wand in his little feet tightly and flew faster and farther than he had ever gone before.  He made his way out above the jungle canopy and into the (now) night sky.  All of a sudden he snapped out of it as he detected a large creature in the sky nearby.  _Oh no!  That thing is huge!  Dive!_  Bob’s survival instincts took over and he flew back down into the jungle.  He escaped, but was feeling very tired and needed to rest.  By chance, he found an abandoned bird nest and settled inside it to sleep for the day.

Panic struck as he felt himself being pulled by something large.  He was helpless in the creature’s grip, and it was crushing the life out of him.  Then the sound around him changed in quality and became distorted, and he felt the cold clammy mud rise up to embrace him.  Oddly, he wasn’t concerned for his own welfare.  He felt an urgent need to escape in order to help his friends!  But alas, he could not do anything, he could protect no one.  

A bright light flashed and with a jolt, Bob awoke from his dream.  _That was how my friend Timothy felt_, Bob came to realize.  _He was a good friend.  I never had friends before Timothy.  I just knew that there were others like me and that we lived together in a big cave.  But when I went to Timothy, He taught me how to be friends.  But now he is gone, and I don’t know what to do.  _

His stomach told him what to do soon enough, and he went off in search of some insects to eat.  He found them easily.  That’s one good thing about the jungle, there are plenty of insects.  He longed for a cave to live in, and headed towards the mountain range in the center of the island.

As he flew back east, he remembered an unpleasant encounter with a group of gnolls that had wanted to eat him.  Fortunately, the gnolls took the land shark thing as food instead.  This memory made Bob angry, and he decided to go make the gnolls respect bats and not eat them anymore.  A few days and a few well-placed Lightning Bolts later, Bob had his revenge and then returned to the mountains to find a good cave to live in.

He found a cave with some other bats in it, but it was strange.  He couldn’t talk to them on the same level he could talk to Timothy, and their company no longer comforted or pleased him.  He moved in to another smaller cave and found that he had a lot of time to think about things and ponder existence.  He tucked the wand away in a crack in the cave and decided that he wouldn’t use it again unless he was in dire trouble.

After a time, he became aware of a person who was living nearby in another cave.  The person was short and wide like Timothy, but not quite the same.  This dwarven druid realized that Bob was special and befriended him.  Bob was glad to have someone to talk to, and decided to help his new friend protect the balance of nature.  There were unnatural things in the mountains, and together maybe they could make a difference.



So there's my vision of what happened after Bob flew off into the jungle.  Who knows, maybe Bob becomes a druid himself under the tutelage of the dwarf.


----------



## the Jester

_*6/30/369 O.L.G., 10:15 a.m., near the edge of Sriti’s Jungle*_

Birds twitter overhead.  Fat drops of warm water dribble from wide cup-like leaves.  Spiders as big as a dwarf’s hand crouch in their webs, catching insects the size of cherries.  Warm, moist air rises all around.

Jawbreaker heaves a sigh as he stumbles along blindly, probing ahead of him with a stick.  Beau staggers next to him, blind as well, the two of them holding to a rope that Martini has tied to the travois upon which the paralyzed Naomi lies.  The ranger grunts with effort as he drags the fat girl behind them.  

Above them, there is the sound of the branches of trees rustling as the urd Achtung descends from above.  “We’re near the edge!” he reports excitedly.  “Hey you guys, we’re almost out of here!”

“Thank god,” groans Beau.  “The jungle sucks.”

“You just need to be more careful,” admonishes Martini.  “Jungles are dangerous, but with proper preparation, it’s easy to get by.”*

Jawbreaker snorts disdainfully.

Indeed, in about an hour, the group finally pulls itself out of the thinning line of jungle plants.  The edge is fairly abrupt, with multi-layered canopy giving way to a thin dusting of trees and thick undergrowth, and then even that falls off and then a high grass sweeping over more or less flat land is revealed.  To our heroes’ considerable delight, the air is less humid, less hot.  The singing of thousands of birds gradually recedes as the group moves out across the plains.

Before long, they find a small farm.  In the fields, a pleasant enough human farmer greets them.  He wears a simple grass skirt and some bone and wooden jewelry tied to him with leather thongs.  He speaks Strogassian, an directs them to the nearest town, Sritivara.  He speaks of it as if it’s the big city.  He also seems to know something about both the paralyzation of Naomi and the blinding sickness.  The sting that incapacitated Naomi lasts for weeks or months, until the eggs the wasp (called a spider eater) injects into the victim’s body hatch and the larvae consume it for food.  The blinding sickness, alas, is permanent.

_Well, maybe there’s someone who can cure it there,_ Naomi sends to Martini telepathically.  He nods.  His poor friends!

***

_*7/1/369 O.L.G., 9 a.m., the Black Barracks Inn, Sritivara*_

The next morning, bathed and rested in the Black Barracks, an inn in the town they have reached (which seems to be predominantly humans living in wooden huts), our heroes assemble for breakfast.  They are glum; the previous day they searched for a cleric powerful enough to _remove blindness_ in town- to no avail.  On the other hand, despite Beau and Jawbreaker’s poor prospects, the town’s cleric was powerful enough to prepare a _potion of remove paralysis_ for a fee.  After breakfast our heroes go and pick it up, then dribble it down Naomi’s throat.  She coughs and convulses and at last can move again- though for almost a day she feels pins and needles throughout her body.  

Then our heroes head into the halfling quarter.  They had naturally made inquiries into the presence of other halflings, and though the island as a whole has very few of their kind, they almost all live in a single neighborhood in Sritivara.  So our heroes head down there, and almost immediately they attract considerable attention.  In a population of 40 halflings, everyone knows everyone else; so the arrival of a half-dozen new faces is a big deal. 

The first halflings to approach are a pair of curious youths.  The party introduces themselves, and as the youths start to reciprocate, a voice calls out from a nearby doorway.  “Did you say your name is Martini Hempflower?  And Federico Flapjacks?” 

“Uh-oh,” whimpers Federico.

“Yes,” Martini says, as a beautiful halfling girl dressed for battle emerges.  “Have we met?”

“My name is Heather Peachtree,” she says solemnly.  “You- your clan- has dealt a grievous injury to my cousin Benjy.”

“Who’s Benjy Peachtree?  Is this connected to those other guys who were hunting you when we met?” Beau asks.

“Yes,” groans Martini.  “Listen, Miss Peachtree, _we_ didn’t put out your cousin’s eye- the one you want is named Airhead Ed.  Ed Flapjacks.  But we haven’t seen her in months now.  As far as we know, she’s somewhere on Strogass.  We had no quarrel with Benjy, and we have no quarrel with you!”

“Well, I have a quarrel with you,” Heather Peachtree retorts.  

“Hey, settle down here!”  A new voice, powerful and masculine, cuts across the tableau.  A strong-looking halfling wearing a solar symbol strides up.  “We don’t need any fighting in the streets.  Come on, Heather, you look you’re ready to draw steel.  Why don’t you folks let me buy you a round of drinks or something?”  The newcomer skillfully defuses the situation, guiding Heather away, and then returns to the party.  He looks them over for a moment, then he says, “Sorry about that.  I’m not sure what go into her- I mean, she’s a hot head, but not normally that bad.”

“Oh, it goes back to some old trouble between her clan and ours,” Federico explains.  “Sort of.  But we don’t want any part of it!”

“I don’t blame you,” replies the newcomer, and he introduces himself as Ezekiel.  Behind him, a beautiful halfling woman smiles and introduces herself as Hortence.  It is obvious that he is the leader between the two of them.  

“Come, let’s get a bite to eat,” suggests Beau.  “Surely you know of a suitable place around here?”

Indeed Ezekiel does, and he leads the party to it: a small indoor place, cozy and warm (though not quite stifling).  There the party and Ezekiel enjoy a meal of the local cuisine.  Naturally, our heroes recount their recent adventures, telling Zeke that they left Strogass because they were being oppressed and fined by the authorities.  “Besides, that place is falling apart,” explains Martini.  “There was a general breakdown going on gradually, it seemed.”

“Yeah, and the Emperor is dead!  Did you know that?”  Federico seems impressed by his knowledge.

“I didn’t know that,” Ezekiel admits.  “And it’s very interesting indeed.  Strogass sucks- there’s all kind of oppression there.  But there’s just as much oppression here, actually.”  He gets a steely glint in his eye.  _”For now.”_  Then he smiles again. 

The party asks Ezekiel if he knows of anyone capable of restoring the lost vision of Beau and Jawbreaker, and he seems dubious.  “Well, there is a druid that dwells around here.  Maybe he could help.”  He shrugs.

“Eventually, I will have such abilities, thanks to my divine patron Fensor,” Hortence remarks.  

“Hmm... maybe if it takes that long, we’ll take you up on that.”

Beau groans.

“If you’re going to seek help from the druid,” Ezekiel says diplomatically, “you might want to do so before you become too embroiled with me.  He’s... not always happy with my choices.”

_*Next Time:*_ Can our heroes get their sight back?  And who- or what- are the Green Tigers?  


*This update marks the start of a new session, and Martini’s player missed the latter portion of the last one, i.e. all the jungle stuff.  Throughout the next few games, anytime the idea of heading into the jungle would come up, Martini’s player was like, “Sure!” while everyone else chorused “NO!!”



_I'll try to post another update to this thread later today, if I have a chance to finish the second half of this one!_


----------



## the Jester

For the record, our party configuration is now like this, with Ezekiel being Brain's new character and Hortence his cohort:

Beau- rogue 4/sorc 3
Martini- rng 3/ftr 2/order of the bow initiate 1
Federico- kobold bard 4/sorc 2/jester 1
Achtung- urd ftr 2 (total ECL 4)
Ezekiel- paladin 6
Naomi- psion 5/elementalist 1
Jawbreaker- barb 6
Hortense- clr 4
Sandy- rog 4/ftr 2


----------



## Brain

Just so you know, I spell the names in this fashion: Ezeekiel and Hortense

Some other background
Ezeekiel Dandybanter was originally of the Bakeswell clan, but has been adopted by the Dandybanter clan during his travels on Strogass.  He's a Paladin of Galador, and has gained a reputation for fighting against the Bleakist regime on Strogass.  He has come to Dyshim recently and become involved in local politics.

Hortense Hempflower is a cousin of Martini's (though about 10 years older than him).  Also, she isn't usually considered beautiful, especially since she is skinny by Halfling standards.  She's known for her nice personality and healing expertise.

Their relationship with each other is undefined (at least in the eyes of the public and to the rest of the party) except that she follows him most everywhere and supports his cause of freedom for the people.


----------



## hippiejedi2

On the way out of the jungle Beau was led by Timmothy, until of course he died, at which point Federico led Beau. Federico in his new Jester class made sure to NOT warn Beau about every root, so he tripped frequently. Federico was still a better guide than TImmothy though.

I recall when we first exit the accursed jungle Federico pulling some of his jester abilities and got us a meal and info from the first farmer/peasant guy.


----------



## omrob

*Foolio Federico*



			
				hippiejedi2 said:
			
		

> On the way out of the jungle Beau was led by Timmothy, until of course he died, at which point Martini led Beau.  Martini being evil made sure to NOT warn Beau about every root, so he tripped frequently.  Martini was still a better guide than TImmothy though..





That was Federico actually - he did it cause, he thought it was funny...He'll be doing a lot more stupid humor type things now that he's a Jester...


----------



## the Jester

*The Liberation of Dyshim!*

_*Noon*_

“The blinding sickness.”  Monli the druid sighs, shaking his head warily.  “Restoring your sight is beyond me.  The loss is permanent unless treated properly, and I do not have the magical faculties to remove it.  However...”  He pauses, purses his lips.  “Dyshim is a place of great natural wonder and power.  There is a set of springs, well known for their healing properties... I could brew up an herbal remedy that, when soaked in the mineral waters of a specific spring, should aid you in seeing again.”

The party agrees readily to pay the cost of brewing up the herbal concoction, and the druid agrees to brew it up.  According to him it will take about two days to cook up the mess.  The party has obtained a map of Dyshim; Monli marks the location of the pit that the healing springs are in on it.  The pit, apparently, is on the far side of the jungle, up against the mountains.  Beau groans.  “We go around,” Jawbreaker says emphatically.  Martini snorts.  

Our heroes return to the place they are staying, the Black Barracks.  Once there they eat a significant meal and then laze about for the rest of the day.  Dinner comes and goes, and then the party reclines into sleep.

***

_*7/2/369 O.L.G., 10 a.m.*_

Just after second breakfast the party heads out on the streets, buying a new dog for Federico (whom the little kobold jester names Portnoy) and generally re-equipping themselves.  They snack on the local cuisine; dark-skinned humans selling hunks of tender grilled fish on a stick seem to be all around the business district.  Tropical birds flash overhead in sudden blots of color.  Fruits are abundant, sweet and juicy.  Naomi takes special joy in walking about the community after being paralyzed for so long.  The blind- Beau and Jawbreaker- get much less enjoyment out of the town than the others, since they can’t see the exotic sights, but they can _smell_ the delicious scents of cooking food and the flowers that seem to dot every house’s garden.

All day our heroes spend wandering the town.  All too soon evening falls, and they begin winding their way back to the Black Barracks.  Thanks to a couple of taller buildings near their inn, they have little trouble navigating the unfamiliar streets.  As they walk they notice a man trailing along about 20’ behind them.  At first they think nothing of him, but then another young fellow drifts along after them, and another wanders out of an alley to the side.  Each fellow wears a green armband.  And suddenly there are about a dozen guys, young tough-looking humans for the most part, making hard eyes at our heroes.  Suddenly the toughs stop moving.  They have encircled our heroes, and so our heroes halt as well.

One of the ruffians- an especially ugly half-orc walking with a longspear- gives a thick smile to the party and says, “Good evenin’, folks.  It seems you are in the Green Tigers’ territory.  I’m afraid you must pay our toll.”

“How much is your toll?” asks Federico worriedly.

“Well, how much have you got?”

“No way!  These guys are trying to oppress us!”  Ezeekiel strikes a stern pose, gesturing at the half-orc.  “We’ll never give in to you!”

That seems to be everyone’s cue to burst into action.  Federico casts _mage armor_ first on Portnoy and then on himself while Achtung and Martini start shooting arrows out into the mass of hoodlums.  The leader stabs Ezeekiel with his spear, slicing through armor and flesh and shocking the paladin with its force.  Ezeekiel draws his axe and then the two are locked in a deadly dance of steel.

Though blind, Beau casts a _shocking grasp._  In Halfling, he calls out, “Hey watch out, guys, I’ve got a _shocking grasp_ going!  Don’t come too close unless you identify yourself or I might zap you!”

Achtung, meanwhile, keeps up a rapid fire of missiles from his bow.  He peppers a couple of the toughs, who are being pressed more by Portnoy than by the arrow fire.  Then Federico drops a number of them with a _sleep_ spell even as Ezeekiel and the leader sweep apart.  Hortense casts a healing spell on Ezeekiel while the gang leader chugs a potion down, and some of his wounds heal as well.  

Determined, the paladin sweeps into a mass of the thugs, and in seconds another is down.  The battle is definitely turning in our heroes’ favor.  Martini lands several more arrows in the gang leader.  The toughs land an occasional blow, but they are not used to dealing with savvy customers like our heroes, armed and armored and unafraid.  Soon the toughs break and flee, though our heroes capture the leader alive and bind him up.

Ezeekiel takes on the task of keeping the prisoner hidden safely away, and yet still a prisoner.  The party manages to return to their inn without further incident, and they rest.  In the morning the party mostly starts an early heavy drunk, but Ezeekiel and Hortense go to speak to the gang leader.  His name, it turns out, is Grizliwentho.  Ezeekiel sternly lectures him about civic duty, about standing up to the oppressors, about not preying on the weak.  He demands that Grizliwentho and his gang change their ways and turn from their current street activity to more of a local police force.  Grizliwentho agrees blithely to everything Zeke says.  Has he seen the error of his ways, or is he just saying what he must to survive?  Who can say?  Ezeekiel warns him that his network of eyes and ears will make sure that the Green Tigers stay in line.  “We defeated you and we could have taken a lot more of you if we had had to,” Ezeekiel remonstrates.  “Don’t make us come back and finish the job!”

The paladin turns Grizliwentho loose, making a mental note to check up on him soon.  _I hope he becomes a good soldier for the resistance,_ thinks Zeke with a smile.  _I think I got through to him.  I think I did._

***

_*4 p.m., Monli the druid’s house*_

Our heroes have sobered up enough to make it practical to attempt a little diplomacy.  According to Ezeekiel, the tyrant governor of Dyshim has not received any backup or support in over a year.  He is being abandoned by more and more of his troops and is in fact down to a handful of bodyguards.  The time is ripe for the revolution to strike, to end the oppression!  But the druid, the best-respected resident of the city, is strongly against a bloody turnover of power.  The party visits him and persuades him to meet with Ezeekiel to discuss the current state of affairs.  

“Killing the governor would be a mistake,” Monli insists. 

“He has to go.”

“You may have to compromise.”

“Well, as long as the end result is that the people are no longer oppressed.  That’s the important thing.  The people need to govern.”

In the end, the only thing that the two can agree on is to seek a non-violent solution.

”Now is the time,” Ezeekiel says.  “Will you help me get him out of here?”

Our heroes agree, and they march to the governor’s mansion.  What starts as a hard negotiating session ends in tragedy as Martini, frustrated with the governor’s insistent ignoring of the fact that he no longer had any cards, shoots him through the eye with his bow.  The governor falls dead, and his only two remaining guards throw down their weapons.

Just like that, Dyshim has been liberated.  

“What if there _are_ reinforcements coming?” asks Federico.

“Well, then we’ll deal with them,” answers Ezeekiel.

“Are you ready to deal with an assault?” the urd Achtung inquires.

“Not yet,” Zeke replies, “but we will be.”


_*Next Time:*_ So what will the new government of Dyshim look like?  How much will our heroes- especially Ezeekiel- be involved?  And how much time will they work on this before attempting to cure Beau’s blindness?


----------



## the Jester

_*7/4/369 O.L.G., 10 a.m., the town of Sritivara, Dyshim*_

Amat’ha, the local cleric, was amenable to a meeting with Ezeekiel.  Now they greet each other warmly and sit down together at a table to talk.

“What can I do for you?” the cleric asks curiously.

“I’d like to ask for your help,” Ezeekiel says solemnly.

“I figured as much.  In what way?”

“In helping the community to hold together.  You’re a respected public figure; I’m sure that the people will listen to you as a voice of reason in these hard times.  The people need a voice of reason right now.  Several of them, in fact, and I think you could really help.  Without any kind of government, we just need someone respected to call for order until elections can be arranged.”

Amat’ha cocks an eyebrow.  “An election?”

“Yes.”  Ezeekiel nods.  “All the people will vote, and they will choose a leader.”

“What a strange idea!” exclaims Amat’ha.  “But how do we ensure that we don’t elect a tyrant?”

“Well, we could write down the community’s values, and make them swear an oath to uphold those values,” suggests Ezeekiel.

“But how do we know that the people will make good choices?  What if they elect fools and idiots?”

“Well, frankly, it can’t be worse than the government we just overthrew.  And it has to be better than anarchy- I don’t think that will do anyone any good.”

“You may have a point there.”  Amat’ha sighs.  “Very well, I will help you.”

***

_*1:30 p.m.*_

“All right, let’s go!”

The party sets off, the blind Beau and Jawbreaker being led by the others.  They grumble unhappily, but it is for them that the party undertakes this journey.  South down the coast, hoping to skirt around the long reach of Sriti’s Jungle- plainly marked on their map- and avoid any further jungle misadventures.  But as they keep looking at the map and seeing how much extra distance going around adds to their journey, both Martini and Ezeekiel start arguing for moving through it instead.

“The jungle is dangerous,” quivers Federico.  “It’s scary in there!”

There is danger along the beach side as well, however.  A murder of blood hawks swoops in, trying to take a pound of flesh from our heroes, but they are driven off.  Ezeekiel shows a new ability when he summons forth a riding dog mount from the celestial realms.  

Three days into their journey, our heroes make the deadly turn into the jungle.

“I can _remove disease,_” Zeke points out.  That is the argument that finally persuades them.  Bright and early, they break into the canopied heat and humidity of the jungle.  The warmth, the smells, the thick moist air.  The jungle.  

_*Next Time:*_ What trouble will our heroes find in the jungle this time??


----------



## the Jester

*The Deadly Serpent Folk of Sriti's Jungle*

_*7/7/369 O.L.G., 2 p.m., in Sriti’s Jungle*_

Oh dear.  Oh my.  Didn’t they learn?

Our heroes return to the jungle.  Two of them, Jawbreaker and Beau, are already blind.  Ezeekiel insists that he can prevent any further serious illnesses, especially with the aid of Hortense.  Her training in the healing arts in extensive, to put it mildly.  She aspires to become a healer.*

As the party pushes through the thick foliage the heady smell of the jungle permeates their nostrils, a weird mix of flowers and rot and thick rich soil.  Strange large squirrels leap from tree to tree above our heroes’ heads.  Brightly colored birds and huge bugs are everywhere.

For several hours our heroes move into the jungle unmolested.  Then, as they march through a thinner area of growth, they hear voices hissing in an unfamiliar tongue beyond a screen of bushes, and suddenly a group of what at first appear to be humans bursts into view.  

A second glance reveals something is wrong with this picture.

There are a pair of slim humans, but the other four appear to be some kind of half-snake folk.  One has the head of a snake, its long forked tongue flicking out to taste the air.  The second has a snake’s tail emerging from his back, behind and between his legs.  The third has no legs at all; her entire body below the waste is a serpentine tail.  The last of these terrible abominations has snakes where he should have arms.

Then it goes dark, and the grass grabs our heroes, _entangling_ them.  Ezeekiel, outside of the sphere of _darkness_ that just came into effect, feels a wave of _fear_ wash off of him, but he is a paladin.  He knows what fear is intellectually, and he understands it emotionally.  But in his guts?  He cannot comprehend it.  He does not _feel_ it.  He struggles against the grass and vines holding him in place, but he cannot break free!

Meanwhile, Achtung, who has managed to twist free of the _entangle,_ flies straight up and out of the _darkness_.  Suddenly he can see again!  Down below, Martini is trading shots with one of the humans, while the other human tries to _charm_ him!  Meanwhile, both the serpent headed and the serpent torsoed creatures _suggest_ to Martini that he surrender, and the halfling archer casts down his bow.  _Uh-oh,_ thinks Achtung.  Drawing his own bow, he launches an arrow at the snake-armed creature.  

It glares up at him.  “Come down,” it calls, and the urd can’t for the life of him think why he shouldn’t comply.

A full-fledged desperate combat has broken out.  Those trapped by the combination of _entangle_ and _darkness_ struggle furiously, several gradually breaking out.  Naomi, _entangled_ but not in the _darkness,_ doesn’t bother.  She just strikes mentally at the snake-folk again and again, battering at their defenses.  She has reasonable success, but the monsters are definitely resistant to psionics, at least to some extent. 

Nevertheless, she has also made Beau effective in battle by establishing a _sight link_ with him.  Now he can see through her eyes, letting him step up with a _shocking grasp_.  He shocks one of the humans, and the man shrieks.  His hair all stands on end.  He falls to the ground, blasted to death by Beau’s touch.  Then the sorcerer grins and casts another one.  Swinging wildly, he touches the snake head creature, but to his chagrin it resists the power of his magic!  Then, naturally, it turns on him and begins taking its displeasure out on him with its blade and envenomed fangs!  When Jawbreaker finally emerges from the _entangle_ and _darkness_ she _sight links_ with him too, shouting to explain what she’s doing so as not to confuse the barbarian.  

The battle draws desperate.  Achtung manages to duel with his adversary for a few moments before breaking the _suggestion_ and flying out of reach to switch back to arrow fire.  Martini, too, eventually breaks his _suggestion,_ and begins firing again.  The battle is tight; Portnoy, Federico’s dog, does a good job of tying up one of the snake-things.  Still, all of them are formidable adversaries, and the battle stretches on.  Finally, Martini drops the snake-armed creature with an arrow to the head, and everyone is severely wounded.  The snake-headed creature turns and sprints into the jungle, abandoning his fellows to their fate, and this turns the tide.  Quickly, now, our heroes finish the remaining villains.  Then, exhausted, they slump down on the ground while Zeke and Hortense hurry from one of them to the next, using what healing magic they have.   

“We need to rest,” groans Beau.  Even after the healing, he is badly wounded, and so is the dog Portnoy.  

“Agreed,” says Martini, “but not here.  We should move on.  Remember, at least one of them got away.  There may be others.”

The group moves several miles along before making camp.  Their rest is unmolested, and in the morning, Hortense and Ezeekiel apply more healing that brings our heroes  up to good health.  The party moves along, with Beau moaning about how dangerous the jungle is.  “You’re right,” admits Ezeekiel, “but we’re already this far in... and besides, you’re the one we’re trying to help!”

_*Next Time:*_ Unseen monsters in the dark!

*Healer is one of my first homebrewed prestige classes, created long ago for the character Scrilla.  Ah, Scrilla.


----------



## Brain

It's kind of cool to have a more active role in what the Halflings do.  Timothy was very naive and only got insistent when it came to treating people nicely.  Ezeekiel is a political activist and very strong-minded.  It's been interesting to experience the group dynamic from a different perspective.  Hortense is also fun to roleplay, especially yet to be told bits with her and Naomi.


----------



## hippiejedi2

*An Act of Desperation*

The fight with the snake men was much more dire, for Beau anyway, than the Jester let on. Initially the snake men won initiative and entangled the party, ie were we stood, so retreat was not a viable option. Next they cast darkness on the edge of the entanglement, hence partitioning the party. Since Naomi put up a sense link Beau stuck with her because he was able to see albeit through her eyes. Naomi and Beau were on one side of the partition, the rest of the party on the other but most of the snake men happened to fall on the side of the partition with Naomi and the blind Beau. The sorceror Beau fought three maybe more villians single handed in melee for a majority of the fight and the villians had SR which added insult to blindness. Beau was on his last leg (reduced to only a few hp) when he made the desperate act of tumbling back into the darkness in order to save his life. Beau had to willingly choose the dark and blindness for self preservation thus becoming doubley blinded. At this point he called for help and the party on the other partition were finishing up with their respective villians, and were able to lend a hand. That is why Beau required more healing than the rest of the party.


----------



## the Jester

*Curing Peoples' Blindness... Sort Of!*

_*7/10/369 O.L.G., 10:30 a.m., the edge of Sriti’s Jungle*_

Almost immediately upon setting out in the morning, our heroes burst out of the jungle.  The feet of the mountains called Dhali’s Fists are in evidence not far away.  Consulting their map, our heroes conclude they are not far from the healing springs they need to bathe their concoction in to heal the blind Beau and Jawbreaker.  Heartened, they move on until they come to a small hut built near a large pit.  The elf who lives in the hut is the self-proclaimed guardian of the healing springs.  Named Thyllimsisa, she demands 250 gp to let the party into the pit.  

“Highway robbery,” gripes Federico.

“By whose authority are you here?” demands Ezeekiel.  “What gives you the right to demand a toll?”

“I’m a licensed business!” she proclaims.  “Besides, I provide a valuable public service- I warn you of the dangers of going in there.”

Zeke scowls.  “Well, that may be true for now, but there’s a new order coming, so you better watch out that you’re not trying to oppress anyone!”

The party pays, then enters the pit.  The pit descends directly into the ground.  It is a natural limestone opening in the ground where a section of a previous cave collapsed after being worn away by water, leaving a tumbled shaft pierced by a narrow chimney that drops 30’ before becoming more slippery for the remaining 60’.  When it drops into a chamber, the party finds themselves along one wall, 20’ above the rubble-choked ground.  The group secures ropes, then clambers down to the bottom.  The large cave they are in is full of a strange mineral smell and a surprising warmth.  In one part of the chamber a large mossy stone hisses and burbles as water springs from it, forming a pool around it on the floor.  A large tunnel leads out of the eastern side of the huge cave.

“The druid’s instructions said to steep it in the first spring for a full day.  That looks like the first spring to me,” says Federico.

**

_*8 p.m., the pit of the healing springs*_

The pungent smell, of course, attracts attention.

They come invisible out of the darkness, flailing at Ezeekiel.  Unseen, they are hard to hit; but Zeke and Martini manage to defeat them anyway.  The ranger sprinkles enough dirt on them to outline them, and declares that they were phantom fungi.  “They’re weird subterranean monsters,” he explains, “invisible plants.  Kind of weird.” 

Federico immediately seizes upon the comic opportunities and begins thinking of phantom fungus jokes.

***

_*7/11/369 O.L.G., 11 a.m.*_

“Ugh!  Stuff tastes like moose piss!” exclaims Jawbreaker, making a horrible face as he drinks his infusion.  Beau gags and almost loses his, but he misses his vision so much that he pinches his nose and manages to choke it down.

Our heroes wait a minute.  Finally, Naomi demands, “Well, can you see?”

Jawbreaker squints in her direction.

“Not really.”*

After some discussion, our heroes decide to wait a while and see if there is any improvement.  “We could explore down here,” suggests Federico.  “That elementalist up above told us that there were different springs with different properties.”

“But do we want to stay down here, or go back up while we wait to see if their vision clears?” Thelonious asks.

“If we go back up, she’s just going to charge us to come back down again,” remarks Zeke.  This meets a general grumbling agreement from the others.  

“All right, then, we’ll stay down here.”  

***

_*7/12/369 O.L.G., 9 a.m.*_

“Any improvement?”

Beau squints.  “A little.”** He sighs.  “It’s better than nothing.”

The group discusses whether to explore or wait a few more days.  “How much food do we have?” Naomi asks pointedly, and everyone gradually realizes that they can only last a short while down here.  

“Unless we find some edible stuff down here,” Naomi points out, nibbling on a sausage.

“Besides, maybe one of the other pools can help you,” Hortense adds.

Our heroes begin exploring, heading through wet, dripping caves.  Small rivulets of water run down the floor all over.  More pools are in evidence; almost immediately our heroes find one, as the wide tunnel leading away from the entrance branches into three different thick fingers about 10’ to 15’ wide.  

Our heroes start on the right (because it is closest) and head down.  Ezeekiel’s axe glows warmly and Naomi holds a torch.  The passage widens, and a longer, fungus-choked chamber branches off to their left.  “Let’s check that one out later,” Martini says, “after we check for any obvious dangers around here.  That might take some time to search.”

The others agree, and the party moves past the offshoot, following the same tunnel to what appears to be a dead end.

Appearances can be deceiving. 

From a hidden tunnel to the north, a blazing worm of fire and rock hurtles forth!  Most of our heroes see it coming and strike at it, but it slams into Beau with fierce, burning force, knocking him from his feet and leaving him stunned.  He shakes his head and hits it with a _scorching ray,_ but it has no effect on the fiery creature!

Unfortunately for the flame-worm, our heroes are quick to respond to its offensive.  Between Naomi’s telepathic attack, the arrows of Martini and Thelonious and the spear of Achtung, the monster is torn to bits in seconds.

As it slowly cools and stops glowing, Naomi frowns.  “Doesn’t look edible.  Damn.”

The party searches but the monster had no treasure that they can find.  The group returns to the fungus-choked chamber and starts searching it; and although it is empty of threats, there is another exit out the back side of the chamber.  Moving through it, our heroes find themselves in another chamber with a pool in it, this one steaming with a very different mineral smell.  As they move forward to investigate, however, a puff of spores from a weird growth bursts out and almost chokes them to death!  Coughing and gagging, our heroes retreat.  Both Achtung and Naomi are almost killed!

“You know, the problem with this path is that we didn’t go left at the first intersection,” remarks Naomi.  Our heroes return to said intersection and take the left passage- which, remarkably enough, soon leads them to a _wish_.

_*Next Time:*_ One of our heroes gets a _wish!_

*At this point, they had a -20 to any Spot or Search checks, and all enemies had total concealment.  Not quite as bad as total blindness.

**Aha, now it’s only -19!  I told them that enemies would have only partial concealment (20% miss chance) once they reached a -15, and no concealment at -5 iirc.


----------



## Technik4

Hah, I got caught up on this one. Chief Jawbreaker reminds me of Cpt Clambake  And Naomi going Psion/Elementalist reminds me of that Wiz/Sor who rose to some prominence (wasn't he a mayor?). Arrr! Ezekial is cool, I'm sure the party dynamics will be interesting as once again Good and Evil strive to get along (at some point anyway).

Also, could you post the Healer and Jester PrCs in your Cydra-stuff thread? I'd also like to see the Urd race (ECL +1 or +2? The urd fighter only has 2 levels??)/

Keep up the rockin' updates Jester!

Technik


----------



## the Jester

Posted the Healer and the Jester in the other thread.

If anyone's interested in the full Cydran prc document, you can get it from my Yahoo Cydra group.  You have to join the group to get access, but ain't no thing, that just lets you vote on my polls and stuff as well.


----------



## Technik4

Thanks! Just dled all the Cydra .docs off the group! I can't believe no one wants to play a Tabaxi! Those guys are cool and it seems like a race with ECL and HD adjustments that are worth giving up the levels (at a glance). Anway, keep up the great work updating this badass story.

Oh, and I wanted to vote Trumps as my favorite part of your story hour, but they were all regions? Isle of Gloom baby! Arrrr!

Technik


----------



## the Jester

*The Party Gets a Wish*

Our heroes quietly pad through the wet tunnels around them.  The caves beneath the Pit of the Healing Springs vary in thickness, but all appear natural, with none of them showing any signs of being worked or braced.  Water drips everywhere.  The cave is unusually warm, for a cave; Martini credits the thermal actions that keeps the springs hot down here.  As the group retraces its steps to the chamber that they didn’t take a left out of, the smells of strange salts and minerals tickle their collective noses.

Down the left passage, then, in the hopes that it will lead them to a more... instant... cure for the impaired vision that both Beau and Jawbreaker are suffering.  Will their eyes heal on their own?  It seems likely, yet it seems equally likely that it will take weeks or more.*

After a short connecting passage, our heroes find themselves at the top of a slope that seems to have a series of natural steps in it.  It is smoothed and moistened by water, and it is very obvious to our heroes that a lack of caution could lead to a deadly fall.  Balancing carefully, our heroes descend about 30’, until a more level side passage extrudes from the natural stair to their left.

”It’s left,” remarks Beau, and the group exits the stair and starts moving down the level cave.  Water dribbles down on them here and there.  Small shallow pools have formed on the floor in the lower spots over the eons.  The passage curves around sharply to the left (“A good sign,” Beau observes), then splits in a T.  Without even pausing our heroes head left, and soon another, wider passage leads off on the right side.  Martini glances down it, then draws back in surprise.  He motions the party to a halt.

“I think there’s something down there,” he whispers.  He slinks ahead of the group and starts moving just outside the edge of their light, with them following a few dozen feet behind him, but the ‘something’ he saw proves to be, though intriguing, not dangerous.

“A campsite,” Naomi says in surprise.

”Who the hell is down here?” wonders Achtung.

“We are,” comments Martini, “but... did the elf up above mention anyone else having gone down here?”

”Yeah, but she didn’t say anything about someone not coming back,” Beau replies.

“She _did_ say it was dangerous down here,” Martini muses, but Jawbreaker, examining the camp, calls out.

”Campsite old.  Years old.”

Our heroes make a thorough search of it.  There is a long-abandoned tent, brittle but still standing.  It appears to have been set up on a small elevated shelf along the right hand wall.  The remains of a fire pit, long cold but undisturbed for decades, are near it.  A few rotten bits of wood mark the remains of some sort of table or something, and a pile of corroded iron spikes lies near the tent’s entrance.  Finally, a long coil of mildewy, rotten rope is coiled in the midst of the rotten wood fragments.  After comparing notes, Martini and Jawbreaker declare that the campsite has lain undisturbed for perhaps a century or thereabouts.

“Interesting,” grunts Naomi, gnawing on a sausage.  “I wonder what happened to whoever it was that was down here.”

”I wonder if we’ll ever know,” Martini says.  “But whoever it was, he or she wasn’t a halfling.  Look at the size of the bedding and the tent.”  He gestures.  “More like a dwarf, or a human.”

Unable to discern more about the old campsite at this time, our heroes continue past the chamber, for the tunnel they entered via continues out the other side of the chamber.  Soon it splits into two passages radiating in a Y shape.  Naturally, the party continues to the left, and after about a 30’ walk they enter another cave.

Their light spills across the chamber.  They can see that it is about 40’ across to the opposite wall, but to the left the cavern fades into darkness.  To their right, however, they are surprised to see a small wall of stones, obviously put together artificially.  Behind it is a steaming spring, its water glistening in the torchlight; and before it is a crude altar set with a strange rune.  

Beau casts a spell, and after a moment, he reports that the spring is magical.  

“Does anyone recognize the symbol?” wonders Sandy, and Ezeekiel speaks up.

”It’s the symbol of Cyldon, the god of mysteries.”

Meanwhile, at the end of the chamber opposite the pool, Jawbreaker and Achtung find another exit.  “Passage,” Chief Jawbreaker calls.  Our heroes form up and head down the passage, which opens into a very large chamber with several exits.  It is lit by the large fire elemental within the room, which stands next to both an earth and a water elemental.  

“Eek,” exclaims Thelonious, and the party retreats.  The elementals have not reacted to their presence in the slightest.

“Well, we don’t want to go in there,” comments Naomi.

“Where should we go back to?” wonders Thelonious.  “There are a lot of other passages.”

A debate begins to break out, so Naomi hastily interjects, “Well, if we’re going to sit here and talk about it, let’s at least eat while we do it.”  She proceeds to stew some vegetables in the magic spring.  As the place is wet and there is no firewood, it proves impossible to build a fire; but the spring is hot enough to serve as a crude cook pot.  

After a satisfying meal, Achtung decides to bathe in the spring.  He finds it soothing and relaxing.  Slowly the tension leaves the urd’s shoulders as the mystical properties of the spring seep into him.  His old scales slough off, and he rubs himself against the jagged rocks, scratching all his hard-to-reach areas.

And, in the best tradition of magical pools, he gains a _wish._**

He mulls it over for a while, basking in the pool.  Then he sighs, “I wish I was more like the god-progenitor of all kobolds.”

He feels his claws toughen.  He feels his snout elongate and his body shift a little.  When he emerges from the bath, he is _changed._  Better than ever!

“Wow, check him out,” says Naomi.  “That pool made you look good!”  She wipes drool off her chin, and then starts munching on a sausage.

Naomi and Beau both bathe as well.  When she emerges, Naomi realizes that she can see a flickering golden aura around Thelonious, Ezeekiel, Hortense, Jawbreaker and Federico.  She frowns.  It’s very strange, and it fades when she stops focusing on it.  She feels a strange fatigue-like sensation, but she’s pretty sure she can do it again once enough time has passed.  Similarly, Beau perceives a flickering aura around Jawbreaker and himself.

Achtung jumps back in and takes another bath, and in the best tradition of magical pools, getting greedy leaves him sadly lessened.  Although his physique has changed to be more like his deity’s, his mind now dulls.***

The party moves in, taking the other branch of the Y, which is now to their left since they are traveling back.  They follow it to another pool, in which the same three bathe.  To their surprise, it makes them feel full, as if they’d just had a big meal.  Naomi stays in it for a long time- so long that she surreptitiously pees in the pool.

No other exits lead out of this chamber, so our heroes return to the last other branching they have not explored, at the T.  That leads to a chamber with a gradual slope downward to the right.  At the bottom, a steaming pool of water has gathered, and a substantial number of stalagmites and stalactites is clustered there.  

Our heroes start searching the area.  Jawbreaker probes the water and discovers that it is scaldingly hot.  He moves to the walls, and Hortense moves up near the pool, peering across it.  “Hey, I think the passage continues beyond it!” she exclaims.  “I don’t know how we could get across, though- it has to be twenty-five, maybe thirty feet... _Fensor’s shield!”_

Something _horrible_ is coming, sloshing heedless through the near-boiling water.  Hortense screams aloud, a piercing shriek, and tries to turn the horrible monster, to no avail.  

The horrible creature stinks of the grave.  Its grey flesh hangs from the frame of what looks like some kind of human-sized goblinoid, except for the two pale tentacles that writhe beneath its arms.  Oozing sores cover it, weeping a white liquid.

_”I come to drink your bones,”_ it croaks, its tentacles writhing at our heroes.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes battle the bonedrinker!


*Remember, a week is nine days long in Cydra.

**He had to roll a d12 to determine what happened and he rolled a 12.  Yay Achtung!

***-2 to int, wis and cha.  Ouch, he rolled a -1 (yeah, there’s a penalty for getting greedy.)


----------



## hippiejedi2

Martini also bathed in the "wish" pool and his sight improved, he got +'s to spot & search. (or something like that)


----------



## the Jester

hippiejedi2 said:
			
		

> Martini also bathed in the "wish" pool and his sight improved, he got +'s to spot & search. (or something like that)




Hey, you're right- that slipped past my notes!


----------



## the Jester

*Deeper and Deeper*

The hideous monster, knee-deep in near-boiling water, roars as the party reacts to it.  A volley of arrows falls around it, many shots hitting and barely harming it, and a _swarm of crystals_ bursts forth with a tinkling sound from Naomi.  A _scorching ray_ from Beau bursts ineffectively against the monster.  Zeke casts _magic weapon_ on his silver battle axe as he grimly watches the arrows rebound from the monster’s nasty skin.  Then, as he watches, Achtung bravely flings himself forward into the fray, attempting to use his newly enhanced claws to rend the monster!  Unfortunately for the urd, the only result is that the bonedrinker’s tentacles pluck him out of the air.  One wonders if the bonedrinker is about to earn his name by, somehow, drinking the bones of Achtung.  

_“I will drink his bones,”_ the hideous monster intones.  Its grin widens, revealing six-inch teeth- and suddenly, it sinks those teeth into Achtung’s screaming form.

The poor urd!  The monster _is_ earning its name!

Achtung writhes in indescribable pain as he feels his skeleton begin to ache deeply.  He shudders and struggles to break free, to no avail

“I can’t get a clear shot!” Thelonious cries.*  Our heroes are stymied from a direct assault by the scalding water that the bonedrinker is wading in. 

“Take the shot,” groans Achtung.

Martini and Thelonious let fly, and by some miracle, Thelonious hits the bonedrinker twice and Martini thrice!  Then Ezeekiel bravely lunges into the scalding water, gritting his teeth against the pain, and strikes a mighty blow at the monster, which rips its teeth free of Achtung, who has now sunken into unconsciousness.  It roars, but then another flurry of arrows hits it and it staggers down... and collapses!  

The good part of that, of course, is that it collapses.  The bad part is that unconscious Achtung falls into the scalding water, heading straight for that unique of indignity of death by drowning and fire damage simultaneously.  Fortunately, Hortense and Ezeekiel manage to scoop him out of the water and apply some healing just in time. 

***

_*7/13/369 O.L.G., 10 a.m.*_

After a night of resting, our heroes are in pretty good shape, including Achtung (thanks to Hortense’s tender ministrations).  So they return to the cave where they fought the bonedrinker, and to get around the scalding pool Achtung puts his new improved physical abilities to work.  He quickly digs a tunnel around the scalding pool.  The halflings are most impressed.  “It’s kind of like a gopher,” muses Sandy.

The bonedrinker’s lair holds some interesting treasure, including a very pretty, sequin-covered silk dress, a warhammer of remarkable quality, 21 silver arrows, a wand, a silver dagger, a tanglefoot bag and a small wooden jewelry box holding 3 cheap silver rings and a single hoop earring.  The silver arrows and the wand radiate magic; it is later discovered that the wand is a _wand of tongues._

Back to the room of the scalding pool our heroes go, and from that chamber they enter another exit so far unexplored.  This one is about 15’ wide, and they follow the dripping cave about 100’ before it splits again.  Each split leads to another pool, one giving off a faint blue glow, the other radiating a weird violet color.  Bathing in the blue pool, several of the party members take on short-lived fiendish, draconic and celestial traits.  They fade after a few days, but meantime our heroes find the changes in themselves unsettling.  The violet pool seems to fortify and improve those that bathe in it, but again, Achtung demonstrates that getting greedy is a bad idea: it leaves him aching, easily tired, with less endurance and generally lesser health.  “Dammit!” the urd exclaims piteously.

The party reins in their enthusiasm for their explorations.  “I can still barely see,” complains Beau.  

“These pools are great,” Martini comments.  “Hey, didn’t we miss one?  The one with the spores around it?  Let’s go back there.”  

“I think we’ve checked out just about everything else here, short of whatever’s beyond that room with the elementals,” nods Federico.

“Except that passage over there,” remarks Naomi with a gesture, indicating another exit from the sloping room, but Martini has already hurried out.  The party follows him back up the slick steps, noting another two passages yet unexplored on the way.  

“All right, so I was wrong,” the kobold whimpers.  “We haven’t explored everything.”

When the party returns to the room with the spores, Martini carefully edges around the dangerous fungus, strips down and settles into the warm water of the spring.  He sighs.  _This feels good,_ he smiles inwardly, and proceeds to soak for a while, thinking about his life.  Thinking about his attitude, thinking about his behavior- thinking about how much he has changed since donning the helmet.  Slowly he realizes that he has been influenced by it for quite some time; but now, he casts off the curse of the helm and returns to his former identity.  

_Beau’s going to try to pull his antics again,_ Martini notes to himself.  _I can’t let him get his hands on the helmet again._ 

When Martini emerges and dresses, he is a changed man- changed _back_ into the nice, caring halfling he once was.  The rigid, rule-making Martini who cared only about himself is gone.  He has shriveled like a raisin, leaving the true Martini behind.

***

_*2 p.m.*_

The other unexplored passages prove mostly uninteresting.  Two natural descents are treacherously slick, one ending in a deadly hot pool and the other in a more tepid pool.  This one holds the soft corpse of an elf, which our heroes determine must have been a victim of the bonedrinker, for it surely has no hard bones left within it.  The party gives a collective shudder.  

“It tried to do that to _me,_” squeaks Achtung.

Returning to the sloping cave, the group explores the other passage that Federico had earlier indicated.  It leads to an old refuse heap that gives up a nest of giant centipedes, easily slain.  

”These items are probably the garbage from that dwarven campsite,” Martini muses.  

“I wonder what happened to the dwarf.  I wonder if we’ll find his body,” Naomi mutters to herself.

***

_*7/14/369 O.L.G., 11 a.m.*_

After rising in what they think to be the morning- it’s hard to tell without seeing the sun- the party moves back to the chamber of the elementals, figuring that they can at least look around the room since the elementals hadn’t responded to their presence previously.  “Maybe there is something that will trigger them,” Federico suggests, “and as long as we don’t do that thing we’ll be fine.”

This may be the case, but if so, whatever they aren’t supposed to do, Naomi must have done it; because as soon as our heroes enter the chamber the three large elementals rushes towards her.  She squeals pig-like in horror and initiates her _energy retort_ even as her friends move to her aid.  Half-blind Jawbreaker engages the fire elemental immediately while Hortense buffs Ezeekiel with a _bull’s strength._  The paladin then rushes in, taking on the earth elemental.  As usual, a considerable number of arrows whizzes into the elementals from the two rangers’ bows.  Thelonious exhorts our heroes to flee.  “These things will kill us!” he cries.

Perhaps he is right.  Sadly, the elementals seem to resist at least a part of every blow our heroes land on them.  Pressed back, the wall of halflings protecting Naomi falters, and the fire elemental, intent on cooking up some Naomi burgers, lashes out at her!  She shrieks as she waddles back, a severe burn on her chest now.  She gasps for breath and fires a _swarm of crystals,_ not caring that she catches Chief Jawbreaker as well as the elemental.  She has to get it to back off!  Jawbreaker slices into it from behind, and this time his mighty blow finishes it!  His axe whizzes into the water elemental as well, cleaving through.  Soon he has torn it apart with his great axe.  Jawbreaker howls in triumph.  

The earth elemental, meanwhile, has forced Martini to discard his bow and switch to the sword.  Its pounding fists deal punishing damage to the little ranger, whose blows are partially turned by its rocky exterior.  The others pile on it, now that it is the only remaining opponent.  Beau hits it with a _ray of enfeeblement_ and it shudders; and then a final blow from Martini finishes it off.

“Whew!” exclaims Naomi.  “They were coming right for me.”

“I wonder what you did to piss them off,” Beau says.

“I didn’t do anything!” she protests.**

The large chamber has two exits that our heroes have not yet explored, both natural descending stairs.  Our heroes search the chamber before leaving it, and to their surprise, they find a secret door. 

“This is the first manufactured thing we’ve found down here, isn’t it?” wonders Naomi.

“No, there was the rock wall and altar in front of the pool in the next chamber,” replies Sandy.  

“Hmm... I bet the best stuff is behind here,” Naomi says enthusiastically.  

The party opens the secret door to reveal a hewn staircase spiraling down.  

“Who built this?” wonders Hortense.

“Could it have been the dwarf?” murmurs Beau.

“There were no signs of digging tools or anything in the refuse heap or at the campsite,” Martini comments.

Jawbreaker snorts.  “We go see.”

The stairs drop about 60’ before opening into a huge chamber, 100’ long and 120’ wide.  The stairs are set against one wall; the other walls each bear a door with a symbol.  More dramatically, a looming figure strides towards our heroes, glowing with a pale light.  It looks like an anthropomorphic bull dog with a set of ram’s horns atop its head.  Our heroes are startled to hear its voice boom in their heads: “Greetings!  Please, tell me- who are you, and why have you come?”

Cautiously, our heroes introduce themselves.  “And who are you?” Naomi asks querulously.  

“I am the Guardian of the Secrets,” the figure intones telepathically.  

“Hey, can you cure my blindness?” Beau asks.  

“Blindness!  Sadly, I cannot,” the Guardian of the Secrets demurs.  

Our heroes draw this strange figure out into conversation.  It does not seem to want to fight them, but rather seems like a somewhat lonely guardian creature of some kind.  When the party asks who he serves, he declares, “The Enigma Lord.”  When they ask him what is beyond the doors, he sadly tells them that he may not say; and furthermore, he informs them that, to pass through any of the doors, they must first answer three riddles.

“What if we fail to give you the right answers?” asks Sandy.

“As long as you answer one correctly, you may pass, but I may give you more assistance for each correct answer.”

“And if we don’t answer any correctly?”

“Alas, then I must destroy you.”

“I see... well then.”

Our heroes mull over this interesting situation.  Continuing to engage the Guardian in conversation, Naomi discovers that he has seen a dwarf about a century ago.  “He came here several times, but was stymied by the riddles and left, never to return.”  

The three doors are all made of stone, and each is graven with a different image.  One shows a stylized skull and crossbones; the second a circle and the dwarven rune for water; and the third, what seems to be stylized gems and coins.

After discussing things for a while, Sandy says, “All right- ask your riddles!”

_*Next Time:*_ Riddles galore!

*Remember, when you fire into a grapple you roll your target randomly.

**Actually, peeing in the pool was what did it.


----------



## Brain

the Jester said:
			
		

> **Actually, peeing in the pool was what did it.




I love those little tidbits of behind the scene info.


----------



## hippiejedi2

Around this time Beau changes his alignment from CE to CN, and with Martini becoming good, well good again, the party is no longer an evil party. Now it becomes Law vs Chaos?


----------



## the Jester

The Guardian of the Secrets intones, “This you should always keep, for no one else wants it!”

Our heroes talk it over for a while, then ask him, “Can you tell us the other riddles before we answer the first?”

He nods, and the halflings ask him to do so.  He asks his second riddle: “This stinks when living, but in death smells good.”

The third riddle, too, he puts forth: “Weight in my belly, trees on my back, nails in my ribs, feet do I lack.  What am I?”

The party huddles and talks.  “The third one is a ship,” Sandy says instantly.  The others agree.  That one, it proves, was the easy one.  The party tosses around various ideas for the other two riddles, and finally they turn to the Guardian again.

“We have answers for you, Guardian,” Sandy says formally.

“Then answer!  _This you should always keep, for no one else wants it.”_

“Your temper!” cries Achtung.  

_”This stinks when living, but in death smells good.”_

“Toil!” Beau shouts.

_”Weight in my belly, trees on my back, nails in my ribs, feet do I lack.  What am I?”_ 

“A ship!” Sandy exclaims.

The Guardian of the Secrets regards them keenly.  “I am impressed,” he declares.  “You have answered two of my riddles correctly.  You may pass the doors at leisure.  But beware- not all is as it appears!”

“Only two?” exclaims Beau.

”It’s the ‘toil’ answer,” complains Zeke.  “I knew that wasn’t it.”

The Chief grunts.  “Jawbreaker told you: pig.  Bacon.”

“Can we leave and come back later and still pass?” asks Sandy.  The Guardian nods, and the party decides to go rest at the green pool that makes them feel full.  Perhaps, if it ameliorates their need to eat, they can rest long enough for Beau and Jawbreaker to regain at least some of their vision.

***

_*7/20/369 O.L.G., Noon*_

After several days the almost-blind halflings are only half-blind.  Tired of waiting, and hoping that half-blind is nearly as good as not blind at all, the group returns to the Guardian’s chamber.  He greets them and again indicates that they may pass any of the doors.  

Our heroes examine the graven symbols on the doors again.  The first door is marked with a skull and crossbones, the second with a dwarven rune for water, and the third with an image of stylized coins and gems.  “If not everything is as it appears,” argues Beau, “maybe that one is a trap.”

“Well, we should certainly check it out, there might be loot,” Sandy retorts.  “We don’t want to miss the loot!”

After arguing back and forth for a while, the party finally decides to open the door.  It is locked, but Sandy takes care of that fairly easily.  The door lead to a 20’ wide passage that is in a shocking state.  About 30’ down the passage, it appears that some kind of catastrophic event must have severely damaged it.  In fact, a deep chasm gapes before the party.   Across it, 25-30’ away, is a damaged section of hall.  It looks as though some sort of geological event must have wrenched the hall apart at some point in the past.

The party passes by it easily enough, with Achtung flying two lengths of rope across to the other side and tying them off at the end of the hall, where he finds another thick doorway, this one bound with brass bands.  Soon the rest of our heroes make it across, and then they all gather at this new door.  Unfortunately, it is locked, but not with a physical mechanism of any kind; there is no lock for Sandy or Beau to pick!  Jawbreaker snorts.  “Jawbreaker can break door,” he suggests.  

The party again breaks into discussion, stopping for a snack (“Act now, but after we eat” is one of Ezeekiel’s slogans).  As they do, they hear something behind the door, a muffled voice, apparently repeating the same thing over and over.  Pressing an ear to the door, Beau frowns.  “Okay... it’s another riddle... it must be how we get through the door... damn riddles!”  He repeats it to the party: “There are three common words ending in –GRY.  Two of them are angry and hungry.  The third is a common word, and everyone knows what it means.  What is the third word?”*  

“Uh, humm,” mutters Ezeekiel.

The party puzzles over this one for some time.  Finally, someone hits on it, and they shout it through the door: “AGREE!”

There’s an exclamation from behind the door, and then a quiet word, and the doors slowly slide open.

“Thank you, oh thank you so much!”  Weeping before them is a half-elven female.  She’s clutching herself, as if astonished at the feeling of her own skin and flesh; for indeed she is.

“Who are you?” asks Sandy. 

“My... sniff... my name is Mys,” she answers.  “I’ve been down here for so long, oh so long!”  She gives out a wavering sigh.  “But now, thanks to you, I’m alive again, I can leave again, oh thank you!”

“Alive again?  What do you mean?”

“For a long time... Two hundred years?  I don’t know any more... I was some sort of... puzzle creature.  A living conundrum, if you will.  But answering the riddle broke the curse that kept me!  Oh, thank you!”

“Hey, were you with a dwarf?  Or have you seen one?”

She shakes her head sadly.  “No.  I haven’t seen anyone since I was trapped down here.”  She wipes her eyes, composing herself.

The party talks to Mys and discovers that she calls herself a riddle-master.  She is eager to stick with them in this dangerous place; she is somewhat afraid of going it alone until she is in a civilized place.  “The world has no doubt changed greatly since my curse began,” she says sadly.  “All my old friends and most of my family are no doubt dead.”

Behind the riddle-master are two open chests.  Looking within them, our heroes see a starry void; but Mys tells them that within is a great reward for each of them that aided in restoring her to flesh.  As each of them reaches in, they find themselves groping around in a cool, unseen space until each of them gets an item.  Their thoughts seem to guide their hands to their rewards.  

Jawbreaker, full of larcenous thoughts about treasure, ironically gets a _ring of thievery_ that grants him a +5 bonus to sleigh of hand checks.

Ezeekiel gets a _+1 evil outsider bane battle axe._

Hortense gets a _wand of cure serious wounds._

Beau gets a an empty sack, but it turns out to be a _sack of supplies_ that will shrink food, drink or smoking materials to 1/1000th of their normal size and weight.  Items within the sack prove easy to remove, as well.  Beau and Jawbreaker soon trade rewards.  

Finally, Sandy gets a pair of _gloves of the sailor_ that give him a +8 competence bonus on Profession (sailor) checks.

Well pleased with their rewards, our heroes return to the Guardian’s chamber and set themselves against the door opposite the one that led to Mys.  She and the Guardian exchange a cool greeting on the way.

The door- this is the one with the skull and crossbones- yields a terrible dragon with a stinger dripping sizzling orange venom and the stink of brimstone around it.  It glares malevolently at our heroes, snarling and hissing, and its terrible stinger darts forward and hits Jawbreaker square in the chest.  The Chief cries out as venom pours into him.  He groans, feeling his chest burn as the poison ravages him!  Then his groan turns into a scream of rage as he flings himself forward and engages it!  Hortense moves towards him as Mys starts singing a song that inspires courage in our heroes.  Beau discovers to his chagrin that this particular wyvern has spell resistance when his _magic missile_ fails to affect the creature.  

Jawbreaker hacks at the terrible dragon, but the venom spreading in him burns like fire; even in his rage he can feel it.  His blows do not have the force to penetrate the scales of the beast.  Then its sting and its claws _and_ its bite tear at him, and everything goes black.  The last thing he sees is that stinger, jabbing him in the chest again, and more fire...

Our heroes have yet to scratch the monster, but that changes as one of Sandy’s arrows finally sticks in its neck.  It roars defiantly, stinging Hortense as she tries to heal the Chief and interrupting her spell and then springing forward to bite and sting Ezeekiel.  He stoically ignores the pain and slams his axe into the monster, slicing it across the chest.  It hisses at him, but while it is distracted Hortense manages to get a _cure light wounds_ onto Jawbreaker, who struggles to his feet weakly.  His body feels like it’s on fire!  “Poison,” he croaks.  “Help...”

Ezeekiel and the wyvern continue to fight it out.  Finally, Ezeekiel hits it with everything he’s got, smiting evil, and it falls, its head nearly severed.

“Jawbreaker need rest,” gasps the Chief.  “We rest in other room.”  He can barely breathe.

The party retires for a day.

_*Next Time:*_ There’s one more door to be investigated.  Behind it- the _halfling prophecy!_


*Note that this riddle relies on being spoken aloud (rather than written) to have a solution.  This is a very clever piece of misdirection as far as riddles go; this is actually floating around on the internet ether as an ‘unsolvable’ riddle.  Bah!


----------



## the Jester

*The Halfing Prophecy*

_*7/21/369 O.L.G., 10 a.m.*_

Immediately after second breakfast, our heroes approach the final unexplored door in the Guardian of Secrets’ chamber.  This one is graven with a dwarven rune signifying water.  “I wonder what that implies,” murmurs Mys to herself.

Mys, the riddle-master who had been trapped for about two centuries before our heroes released her by solving her riddle, is garbed in a shirt of mithral, with a silver rapier at her side and a light crossbow strapped to her back.  She is not a very militant-looking figure; in fact, she is downright scrawny.  Her sharp features are accented by her tapered ears and her slanted eyes.  She has already made clear that her most powerful weapon is her mind.  So far, the halflings accept her; though several of them have reservations about her, so far she has been a pleasant and helpful companion (though, again, not much of a fighter).  She says, “A riddle of some sort, no doubt.”

“What do you mean?”  Naomi looks at her.

“This entire place is sacred to Cyldon, the god of secrets and riddles.  The rune on my door was gems and gold, was it not?  Yet neither was in there.  There was treasure, Cyldon’s most precious treasure, in the form of an extremely difficult riddle.”  She gestures at the door the wyvern-fiend had been behind.  “And there was poison in there, all right!  But not like one might find in a bottle with such a sign on it.  It was in a living stinger!”  Now she turns to the water-rune.  “Water... what does it mean?”

“How can we find out?” Thelonious asks.   

Mys shrugs.  “We will know what it means in retrospect,” she states, “after we go past the door.”

“I guess I’d better search the door for traps then,” Beau remarks, and starts doing so.

”Well, neither of the others was trapped,” begins Martini.

“Hey, I found something!” Beau exclaims, and Martini shuts up.  Slowly the rogue-sorcerer first discovers and then distorts and ruins a magical _glyph of warding._ 

Jawbreaker moves forward and throws open the door. This reveals a 30’ wide hallway leading to a large steaming pool of water that opens into a natural cavern full of water as far as our heroes can see.  A bridge, clearly unfinished, has been built partway out into the water, but the architect never finished his task.  The half-finished bridge is decorated with sculptures of earth creatures and elementals all along it.  The pool is hot, but not boiling hot.  It’s definitely hot enough to scald, though.  Jawbreaker thrusts a hand in for just a moment, and finds it bearable, though painful.  Our heroes walk cautiously out to the end of the finished part of the bridge.  From there, they can see some kind of circle of high rocks thrusting above the water level.  

“Hmm,” Beau says, “there’s magic out there.”

This, combined with a complete lack of any way for them to get out there safely (other than Achtung), leads them to send the urd ahead.  He flaps out there on his skinny wings, and as he approaches the circle of stones the water starts to churn.  He squawks, then retreats as something starts to arise from the roiling waters.  Excitedly he reports to the party.  Jawbreaker, Naomi, Beau, Ezeekiel (clutching his new, glowing axe), Hortense and Martini brave the scalding waters and wade out towards the stone.  

The churning that has arisen forms now into a serpent of water, splashing sounds substituting perhaps for a hiss.  In the light of Zeke’s axe, the water serpent is revealed to those back on the bridge. 

“Don’t attack it!” cries Mys.  

“What is it?” Naomi demands.

”It is a water weird.”

“What the hell is that?”  Naomi is very tense, but starting to relax.  Despite its menacing demeanor, the so-called ‘water weird’ has not yet struck.  Several of our heroes pull themselves onto the rocks around it.

“It can prophesize!  Offer it tribute!”

Swiftly, several of our heroes throw some coins, gems or minor magic items in the pool.  The serpent resolves into a beauteous humanoid form.  For a long moment it merely watches them with an unsettling gaze; then it speaks.  _”Long have your kind sought your way to the Promised Land.  Know this: it is behind you.  The homeland of bread and butter, the place of mead and milk, the fields of strawberries, the cows that give cream, the orchards of apples from which springeth pie- all these things are there, waiting to be plucked like plums from the tree.  But first the isle must be freed by small hands for small hands, which can work the isle to paradise in but three years.  Blessed is it, for it is the home of your rightful gods.  Their breath is upon it, causing berries to spring forth.  The fountain of wine makes the land drunk.  Yet by the drunk with power it was seized from your folk.  Now the power is gone, and still drunk are its dregs; but liberation awaits.”_

“Whoah,” breathes Naomi.

_Cows that give cream,_ thinks Beau in wonder.

“Where is this place?” Jawbreaker demands, full of awe at the thoughts.

“Hey, can we get this written down?” asks Ezeekiel. 

This is generally agreed to be a good idea, and the weird agrees to speak her words again.  Both Ezeekiel and Naomi note it down, although Naomi adds a line about herds of thumbless humans.  Then our heroes quickly cross to a small finger of land on the opposite side of the cavern from the bridge.  There’s nothing of note there, but it gives them a brief respite from the heat of the water.  Then they move on through the water, following the perimeter of the room further to their left (where it extends past their ability to see; they have seen all of the other half of the cave at this point).  Soon they reach another finger of rock, which has a natural stair descending from it.  Warily, our heroes descend into another cave filled ankle-deep with water, but this time it is only pleasantly hot.  The halflings and their friends move forward, but a swarm of huge water skeeters skims towards them from the only passage out of the room.  Suddenly the party is being swarmed!

Naomi cries out, “Duck!” –and without an instant’s hesitation she fires a _swarm of crystals,_ catching several of her companions in it but killing many of the bugs.  A second manifestation a few seconds later, and the swarm disperses, the bugs skating away across the water.

Our heroes follow the passage as it zigs and zags, until it finally opens up into a good-sized chamber with a central island elevated above the water.  Another island, in the chamber’s northeast corner, has a bunch of rubble strewn about it.

Cautiously, our heroes advance.  The central island is dotted with nubby stalagmites but otherwise unremarkable.  The other island holds a surprise or two, however.  As our heroes investigate it, Beau spies a few coins among the debris.  

And suddenly, something bursts up from underneath the ground, something almost as wide as it is tall, colored a burnt umber color.  Its huge mandibles clack and its great claws click.  Its eyes are huge, multifacted- no, wait, those aren’t its eyes, _those_ are, or... it’s so confusing... 


_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes vs. an umber hulk!


----------



## Brain

Ah, the Halfling Prophecy.  Ezeekiel immediately started "interpreting" it to fit his political agenda.  He wrote it down word for word, but when we would discuss it, he would argue that it meant overthrowing the Bleakists of Strogass.  (By now he had taken at least one level in a Cydra prestige class: Freedom Fighter and had Favored Enemy: Bleakist)

Also, great job of keeping the updates coming along!  I am really enjoying reading them.


----------



## the Jester

Martini leaps aside, an arrow zinging through the air and sticking in the umber hulk.  It roars and swipes a massive claw at Thelonious, batting him aside.  The human gives a startled cry, then turns and starts attacking Jawbreaker!  Arrows land in the Chief, and he grunts in surprise.  “Happy Flapjacks, orange dragon death!” he cries, while Beau moves around aimlessly.

_Confusion_ has taken hold.

Only Martin, Ezeekiel, Hortense and Mys are unaffected by the umber hulk’s terrible confusing gaze.  The ranger starts firing arrow after arrow at the hulk while Ezeekiel moves forward, enhanced by a _bull’s strength_ from Hortense, and Mys starts singing in a clear high voice to inspire courage.

The umber hulk roars and tears into the group.  Naomi leaps away, and for an instant her head is clear.  _What’s going on?_ she wonders wildly, then thrusts out with her mind, tearing at the monster’s brain.  It gives another roar, and Zeke darts in, swinging at it with deadly accuracy.  Thelonious snarls and turns to shoot the umber hulk, as it is the closest creature to him; and ironically, in his confusion his arrow flies true, sinking deep into the umber hulk’s eye!  It sways on its feet, then collapses to the ground.

Momentarily, the confused folk settle down and come to their senses.  Though shaken by the experience, they do not lose their collective nerve, and a search ensues.  340 gp, 29 pp, 500 sp and a large flawed opal turn up.  The party collects the loot and then examines the isle more closely.  Soon they ascertain that a rubble-choked burrow- probably the umber hulk’s- might be clearable given enough work.

And work it is: hauling broken chunks of stone, clearing a longer and longer passage, with only enough room for two to fit at the head of it at a time; but as it gets longer and deeper, the others can line up behind them and pass the rubble down the line to be discarded on the isle.  Even so, it takes about four hours to clear the passage, and when it has been cleared it leads to a wide natural passage heading deep into the earth.

Our heroes rest for a while, then shoulder their packs once again and move on.  Naomi grubs on a sausage as they set out. The passage goes for about a mile without anything of note changing; then, several of our heroes hear a strange sound ahead, a rasping that seems to be gradually approaching.  Our heroes begin moving forward (with Hortense hitting Ezeekiel with a _bulls strength_ and Naomi initiating an _energy retort_ in case of trouble), and suddenly their light reveals a huge slug, easily 20’ long!  

Jawbreaker charges. 

His sword hacks into the slug, damaging it.  Yellow fluid gushes from the wound.  The monster’s head rears back, and then it writhes as Beau blasts it with his newest spell- _scorching ray!_ 

The slug’s head whips downward suddenly, and it delivers a terrific bite to Jawbreaker.  He staggers under the impact, and swings his sword in reply, driving its head back away from him again.  Ezeekiel, on his dog Bartholomew, suddenly charges in, but the slug focuses on Jawbreaker mindlessly, biting at him again.

Arrows and crossbow bolts are flying in; Zeke and his dog are circling around to flank it.  But this one is really all about Jawbreaker.  Standing toe to, er, foot with the giant slug, Chief Jawbreaker hacks and hacks it until it dies.  In the end, he’s battered and bloodied, but Hortense and her new wand fix him up soon enough.

The party continues down the passage for several more hours.  “How far down this do we want to go?” inquires Federico.  “It seems to be taking us down into... the Underdark!”  (He throws some drama into his voice for that one.  You goof, you, Federico.)

“We go half of one more day,” Jawbreaker says.  That settles it.  The Chief has spoken.

***

_*7/22/369 O.L.G., Noon, Dyshim’s Underdark*_

After they encounter the triceratops, the party decides to turn back.  

The battle is quick and deadly, and very satisfying for Jawbreaker, for he breaks its jaw.  Again, Jawbreaker stands toe to toe with the beast, but this time it almost kills him.  It is _tough._ 

But my god, it sure is tasty!

They spend a little while harvesting it and putting it into the _sack of supplies._  Then they turn about and return up the passage, not resting until they have reached the isle of the umber hulk.

Exhausted, they fall asleep.

_*Next Time:*_ The death of a pc!  Always a sad moment!


----------



## the Jester

*A Death and Two Scars*

_*7/23/369 O.L.G., 7 a.m., beneath the Pit of the Healing Springs*_

Our heroes, still in the cave complex where the magical springs are, discuss where to go next.  “Have we explored the whole place?” wonders Sandy.

Beau replies, “No, there are still a couple more passages out of the big room those three elementals we fought were in.”

“That’s right!  There were a couple of exits, but we found the secret door!” exclaims Federico.

“Well, let’s check it out.”  The party finishes second breakfast (their natural rhythyms have shifted somewhat away from the sun), then begins the ascent.  Soon they have reached the aforementioned secret door and re-entered the elemental chamber.  Scattered bits of stone and water, and black marks on the walls, are all that remain of the slain elementals.  Four passages, one of them very wide, lead from the chamber.  Two of them the party has already explored; but the other two (including the wide passage) slope sharply downward, becoming scalloped like a set of slick steps.

Our heroes head down the narrower passage first.  Very quickly the air becomes full of steam, which naturally leaves a skin of moisture on everything (not that the place isn’t already damp enough anyway!)  This leaves the descent extremely treacherous, and the party moves very slowly as they pick their way downward.  After dropping about 50’, the passage splits, and Jawbreaker leads the group to the left.  

Finally the passage comes into a cave.  The steam cuts visibility to about 10’.  Cautiously, the party moves deeper into the chamber.  Achtung flies in, little wings beating furiously, and spies a small pile of bones, coins and refuse near the edge of a very hot-looking pool.  He swoops down to check it out, and something darts from the shadows behind him and suddenly he’s almost blind with pain!  Something rough has wrapped around the urd’s throat and he’s been dragged back, next to the edge of the room...

The rest of our heroes gape in horror as Achtung struggles in the grip of a horrible creature the size of a halfling with tentacles instead of arms!  And it has wrapped a tentacle around his throat from behind, and its other tentacle around one of his arms.  His wings are crushed against it.  He struggles to wriggle free, and Beau tries to help by firing a _ray of enfeeblement_ at the monster choking him, but unfortunately he manages to enfeeble Achtung instead!  Disaster!  

Jawbreaker hurries forward and slices at the beast with his axe.  The monster winces back with a groan, but does not release its victim; nor does it do so when Naomi hits it with a _recall agony_.  Federico starts japing at it to inspire confidence in his friends, telling tentacle-monster jokes, and perhaps that it what provokes it the final step; for it releases Achtung, and before he can take a step, it pummels him from behind twice, each blow a deadly smash to the base of the skull, and the urd’s neck snaps each time!*  He falls into the boiling water, and if there was any hope for him before it is lost now.  Achtung is gone.

“Noooo!” cries Federico.**

Beau, Jawbreaker and Ezeekiel launch a massive attack on the little monster.  It can’t do nearly as well against them as it could against an unprepared, unsuspecting victim.  Between them they destroy it.  Jawbreaker thrusts a hand into the water and pulls it back red.  “Tsss!” he hisses.  “Too hot.  Urd dead.”

Sadly, our heroes sit down and have a meal in his honor. 

***

_*11 a.m.*_

After mourning for an hour, the party moves on.  They take the monster’s meager treasure, consisting of about 70 gp in coins plus some electrum pieces.  Electrum is a gold-silver alloy that is no longer generally used for coinage, but once was.  Our heroes take the coins; surely they are worth something.  The other branch of the treacherous, steamy passage leads to another chamber.  This one slopes sharply downward, filling with water after about the first 20’ of the place.  As our heroes move in and begin searching the dry area of the chamber, the water is suddenly disturbed, and a huge lobster-like monstrosity charges out!  It has some sort of writhing tentacles around its mouth, along with a set of monstrous clacking claws.  The beast seems to have weird, insect-like features as well.  Truly this thing is some kind of abomination!

Our heroes do what they can.  Jawbreaker unleashes his barbarian fury on the beast, tearing into it with his sword.  Ezeekiel fills himself with divine vigor, moving up, and ends up caught in one of the monster’s claws!  He gives a cry of dismay.  Naomi moves up to try to get into a better position, and it reaches out with its other claw and grabs her by the head!  She screams in pain and rips free, but at the cost of one of her eyes!***

This thing is _deadly._ 

It squeezes Zeke in its massive pincer.  The freedom fighter shouts in pain, and finally manages to break free, staggering a pace away.  He is bleeding badly.  A _scorching ray_ hits it, but it does not harm it; this monster lives in near-boiling water!  

Naomi blasts it with a _mind thrust_, and blue-green blood starts to leak from the monster’s eyes.  It shudders and snaps at Ezeekiel, who manages to deflect this one, and then starts to pull back.  Zeke takes a shot at it while it’s leaving and slams his axe into the monster’s head!  It shudders and drops.

“What the hell was that?” wonders Sandy.  Nobody has an answer, but Naomi has an even better question.

“Can we eat it?”

***

_*Noon*_

Back in the elemental chamber, our heroes examine the other, 40’ wide passage.  It too descends, but it is much dryer and the steps are wider and less treacherous.  The party starts down, and the passage twists to the right before opening up in a chamber.  Sandy starts into the chamber, and then something wet drops on his arm from above. 

“What the hell-“ he begins, but then he’s gasping in pain.  In horror he watches as his arm starts to turn green.  “Green slime!” he screams, backing off and looking up.  “Bring me a torch!  Argh!!!”

His friends rush to aid him.  He burns his arm until the slime is gone, but he is badly wounded, seriously debilitated. 

The patch of slime is small enough to navigate around in the wide passage; entering the chamber, our heroes find a dwarven skeleton missing its legs below the knees.  His corpse wears corroded, useless armor.  At his belt is a ruined axe.  His metal boots are still in good shape.  His purse still holds a few coins (which our heroes take).  And chiseled into the wall is a short, despairing message in dwarven runes.  It seems that he lost his legs to the slime and was trapped here, where he died.  

“Well, now we know what happened to the dwarf whose campsite we found,” remarks Naomi.

“I think we’ve explored this whole place now, right?” Federico asks.  The others agree.

”Then let’s move on,” suggests Sandy.

Our heroes at last ascend from the caves and emerge again into the daylight.

_*Next Time:*_ Enter: Brickneck Hot-Metal!

*This was a 6th level rogue choker.  It surprised Achtung and got the ol’ free attack in, then won initiative and got to continue a barrage of sneak attacks.  Poor Achtung! 

**I don’t know if the general readership has noticed this yet, but pretty much every time a pc dies at least one other pc gives the Hollywood good guy death “Nooo!”  Really, it’s not _my_ fault, I’m just the dm.

***Don’t have which one noted.  If a player who posts recalls- I wanna say the left?- could you enlighten us please?


----------



## the Jester

Current Party Roster (minor spoiler- new pc included)

Martini (rng 3/ftr 2/order of the bow initiate 1)
Beau (rog 4/sor 4)
Ezeekiel (pal 6/freedom fighter 1)
Naomi (psion 5/elementalist 1)
Federico (brd 4/sor 2/jester 1)
Phenly "Sandy" Sandybanks (rog 4/ftr 2)
Jawbreaker (barb 7)
Brickneck Hot-Metal (dwarf monk 4)

Hortense (Zeke's cohort)- cleric 5


----------



## the Jester

*The Materialistic Monk*

_*7/26/369 O.L.G., 11:30 a.m., skirting the edge of Sriti’s Jungle*_

When our heroes first meet Brickneck Hot-Metal, he is towing a wagon load of crap behind him.  Among other things, firewood, torches, rope, a great length of chain, a spyglass- pretty much everything but a kitchen sink is in there.  Watching the dwarf struggle towards them through the high grass, our heroes stop, amused.  When he gets within hailing distance he greets them, and one of those conversations begins.  You know the ones I mean- the ones that introduce new pcs.

“Hello, fellow travelers!” cries the dwarf.  He makes a strange, low humming noise very loudly. “NNNNH!  I am Brickneck, Brickneck Hot-Metal.  May I offer you a drink from one of my ale casks?”

“You travel heavily, friend,” comments Federico wryly.  “We will help lighten your load by drinking your ale.”

“Perhaps it’s time we cooked a proper meal,” suggests Naomi.  “It’s nearly lunchtime.”

“Why thank you, friends!” the dwarf cries.  “NNNNH!”

Somehow the luncheon turns into traveling together, and Brickneck joins our heroes.

***

Consult a map of Dyshim.

Dhali’s Fists, a range of mountains, bisect the isle along its north-south axis.  To the west there are thick jungles over much of the isle, but several towns in coastal or plains areas.  South of Sritivara- and thus, on the way if the party skirts around the southern edge of Sriti’s Jungle- is the town of Dovishtal, and near it is Fort Kintax, wherefrom the Strogassian forces had reigned with terror as their weapon.  Ezeekiel fears that there might be political prisoners still trapped there, waiting to be freed. 

Thus, Dovishtal and Fort Kintax are our heroes’ next stop.

***

_*7/30/369 O.L.G., Noon, Dovishtal*_

The sun is bright and hot when our heroes reach the small town of Dovishtal.  It is almost exclusively human, with nearly all of the buildings fashioned of mud plastered into primitive-looking huts.  It sits in the shadows of Dhali’s Fists.  It is a dour, unfriendly place. 

Upon entering Dovishtal, our heroes are interviewed by Mringling, the village’s head guard.  He wants to know who they are, where they’re going, what they’re doing, etc.  Cooperative visitors are allowed in to Dovishtal although they are charged 1 sp to enter.  Leaving also costs a silver piece, or 2 sp for a citizen of the town.  Lodging for visitors is available from the single stone hostel in the town square; a room (it turns out) costs 5 sp/night, and the food (poor) is another 3 sp/meal.  Cheap, strong beer is the upside of the hostel’s hospitality: a mug costs only 1 cp, and the proprietor, Grimglad, offers ‘all-you-can-drink for an hour’ specials for 1 sp (or 1 gp for a dwarf).

Grimglad is a dwarf, and when Brickneck catches sight of him he works his way through the drinkers to speak to him, and it turns out that they are cousins.  They have a long involved conversation in dwarven about some kind of forge or something, none of our heroes really catch the entire thing.  Then there is a bit of animated arguing.  When Brickneck returns to the party’s table, he looks a little miffed.  After some cajoling, our heroes manage to get the dwarf to open up a little.  It turns out that he and Grimglad are the last Hot-Metals (to the best of his knowledge).  Their ancestral forge is lost, and if it could be found again it could lead to great wealth, honor and glory.  And Grimglad has found it- but it was dangerous, killing his other companions at the time.

”Until the clan has an heir,” Brickneck grumbles, “he won’t tell me where it is.  He says one of us needs to married first before either of us go some place like that.”

“Jawbreaker was married once,” comments Beau.

“Well, I don’t want to be,” snaps Brickneck.  

***

Rain settles in, warm and windy, making traveling impractical; so our heroes merely wait it out at the inn.  Brickneck has a little trouble finding somewhere to park his wagon, attempting to find a free ride and being rebuffed at every turn by his cousin.  Finally Beau gets fed up, lights it on fire with a _scorching ray_ and hands over enough coin to recompense Brickneck.  He can’t save much, but the dwarf manages to pull his long, heavy chain out, and he makes arrangements for storing it with Grimglad, who once again rebuffs all attempts at getting a freebie.  (“Store yer chain for you?  Sure, let’s call it 1 sp/day with a 10 gp deposit.  Cousin.”)

Then it’s to Fort Kintax, where our heroes meet a nicer group of dwarves, rather than the Imperial Strogassian troops they had expected.  “We moved in here and took over,” the leader of the dwarves states, “but they were already gone.  They hadn’t had any reinforcements in nine, ten months probably; they could see which way the wind was blowing.”

The dwarven leader is named Derknin, and when Ezeekiel asks him about potential political prisoners he makes a face.

“We think they left a lot of the prisoners locked up to starve when they left.  They weren’t... very humane.”  He sighs.  “You may find political prisoners down there, but I don’t know that any of them would be alive.”

_*Next Time:*_Our heroes enter the prison at Ft. Kintax!


----------



## the Jester

*Into the Dungeons of Fort Kintax*

_*8/6/369 O.L.G., 11 a.m., Fort Kintax*_

Derknan, leader of the dwarves now in control of Fort Kintax, offers our heroes 400 gp each to remove the stinking corpses in the dungeons below the fort.  Since our heroes want to see if there are any surviving political prisoners, they agree readily enough to the task.  But when they open the doors to the dungeon they are greeted with such a ripe stench of decay that their stomachs pucker.  Wrapping cloth over their faces, our heroes enter and find a rat-infested, horrible place.  Our heroes descend the stairs, a narrow set of rickety steps that drops almost 100’ before ending in a chamber.  The room holds a desk, which turns out to have been the overseer’s.  He is long gone, but his desk is full of papers detailing the prisoners (most held for insurrection-related crimes; most were elves and dwarves; there was even a powerful elven druid held prisoner).  A search of the desk turns up a key buried in all the papers.  

Fortunately, this key opens the door to the cell block.  The stench is horrifying, and thousands of fat, filthy rats with no fear of halflings at all glare at them and them move forward in a huge swarm.  Worse yet, as the combat breaks out, a voice cries out from within one of the cells.  “Please!  Help me!”

Just as our heroes fend off the rats, dispersing the last of the swarms, something else emerges from one of the cells.  It looks horrific- skeletal, subtly inhuman in nature, with great shackles floating in the air around it.  It laughs harshly at Hortense’s startled face when her attempt to turn it fails.  Beau’s _disrupt undead_ is ineffective as well.  Then the creature claws Zeke, and one of its shackles latches on to him!

Jawbreaker roars.  “FOR DOGTOOTH!!” he cries, and lands an incredible blow to the monster’s sternum, shattering it and killing the thing.*  

Carefully our heroes extract Ezeekiel’s arm from the shackle.  “I am _not cool_ with that!” the freedom fighter says.  “He was trying to oppress me!”

Now that the immediate danger is over, our heroes move to the cell with the voice in it.  They peer inside and see a dirty little dwarven woman.  “Please, let me out!” she begs.

”How are you still alive down here?” exclaims Federico.  

“I kept some of the food they gave me aside in case they ever stopped giving me food,” she replies.  “But still, I’m starving!  Oh please, won’t you let me free?  Something terrible has happened- everyone else is dead!”

“Why were you in there?”

”They- the soldiers imprisoned me.”  She sounds somewhat offended.  “I don’t even know exactly why- just that I don’t agree with Bleak.”

“We’ll free you,” Ezeekiel calls out.

In moments they have done so, and she hurries away towards the dwarves above.  

***

_*8/9/369 O.L.G., 1 p.m.*_

After hauling the corpses from the cell block out of the dungeon and away from the fort, our heroes proceed back down into the stinking dungeon.  They have not fully explored it, but they have seen no other signs of living prisoners.  

In fact, the next chamber they investigate is a grisly scene.  Obviously a torture chamber, the room was doubtless host to unspeakable torments inflicted upon the innocent and guilty alike.  Several items of various degrees of inhumanity are in here, including a rack, pincers, a brazier of coals (presently cold), several tables, a wheel, shackles and a variety of cutting instruments.  A number of corpses in here attest to the cruelty of the Strogassians, including a gruesomely rotten corpse on one of the tables that has been almost completely flayed.  It appears as though all of the victims had been tortured, but several were still alive and were simply left to starve when the Strogassians left.  A tray in a corner of the room has a golden tooth, a ring, and a jeweled pin upon it.

Beau moves to pick up the tooth, ring and pin even as Hortense starts closing the staring eyes of the corpses.  And suddenly, gruesomely, the skin from the flayed may, which is laid out on a table nearby, flutters to life!  Our heroes cry out in dismay, and then gasp in horror as the spilled blood in the gutters beneath some of the instruments swirls up into a cloud of blood motes!  Worse yet, a ghostly, spectral figure seems to sprout from the corpse, leaping up and fairly crackling wth negative energy; and the very shadow of the body wrenches free and moves to attack as well.

_*Next Time:*_ Trouble in the torture chamber!

*This was a crit.  That’s right; this particular monster’s not undead.   (It was a shackledeath from the CC2.)


----------



## the Jester

The first sign that things are bad comes when Brickneck fumbles and breaks the keg of ale he carts around on his back.  Foamy liquid immediately starts spraying out, much to his dismay, soaking him in ale and beginning the formation of a slick of beer on the floor of the torture chamber.  There’s a moment of general confusion as the combatants shake themselves out, get their weapons ready and move into position; then, with a _magic missile_ from Beau, things get serious.  

Jawbreaker swings his magic sword at the husk of skin that dangles in the air in front of him.  He hits it, slashing a great gash in it, and a palpable malevolence oozes from it.  He grunts as it lashes down, attempting to wrap itself around him and sucking at his skin!  He hacks viciously at it again, slicing it in two, and it collapses inertly on the floor.  

Ezeekiel, meanwhile, attempts to turn the undead, to no effect, and then is immediately beset by the shadow.  He desperately swings and stabs his sword at the monster, hurting it, but its merest touch weakens and drains him.  Finally, Zeke channels again and this time he turns it; the shadow flees.  

The cloud of blood swirls onto Naomi, sucking her blood out through her skin!   She cries out in terrible pain, then staggers as the ghost-like figure slashes a claw across her head, tearing one of her ears off!*  She tumbles away, trying to avoid having her soul claimed by these unfortunate undead, and shakes her head to clear it.  She nearly lost it entirely!  The side of her head throbs redly, and there is a small ocean of blood soaking her shirt and cloak. 

While Jawbreaker and Ezeekiel rush in to strike at the blood cloud, Beau keeps blasting it with _scorching rays_.  Brickneck finally manages to stop staggering around and get a good blow or two in on the bad guys, and in another few seconds the battle is done.  Our heroes are wounded, drained and weakened; there is no question but that it is time to rest.  They exit the dungeon and most of them rest in the fort above.  While their companions are doing so, however, Hortense, with the aid of Sandy and Federico, _consecrates_ the torture chamber in an attempt to lay to rest the restless spirits of its victims.

***

*8/11/369 O.L.G., Noon, the torture chamber*

Within one of the iron maidens is a secret door.  Warily, our heroes follow the narrow passage beyond it, and before long, it joins a natural cave that extends farther than they can see.  The group descends for nearly an hour before the cave opens wide before them.  The sound of water dripping from the ceiling and falling into some kind of pool is audible from the back part of the cave, beyond their ability to see.  Suddenly a spotlight, blindingly bright, shoots out of the darkness at our heroes.  Then another, and another... and half the party can’t see!

“Ahhh!  Jawbreaker blind again!” the Chief cries.

Little feet pitter forward, and suddenly more than half a dozen monsters are upon the party, biting and trying to overcome them.  Beams of intense light still come from some of the monsters’ eyes.  Whatever the bizarre little things are, they seem quite dangerous!

Dangerous, but with a metaphorical glass jaw; for most of them cannot withstand more than one or two blows from Jawbreaker or Ezeekiel.  Soon the menace is ended, and though several of our heroes have their vision dazzled for a few moments, it passes quickly.  

Our heroes continue their descent.  “I wonder if this was just an escape passage for the Strogassians, or what?” Zeke muses.  Hortense stares at him adoringly.  “Maybe there are more prisoners down here somewhere,” he continues obliviously.

“If there are, we should rescue them,” Federico remarks.  The group murmurs assent.  

They march for several more hours before a rasping sound greets them from further down the passage.  They recognize the sound from a previous encounter beneath the pit of the healing springs: it’s a giant slug!  Quickly, the party readies themselves, and despite a short cliff that presents a little logistical problem they manage to engage and destroy it; and then it’s dire escargot for dinner, as Federico says.

_*Next Time:*_ Watch out for what might be construed as politically incorrect, insensitive npcs in the Underdark!

*Again, I don’t recall which, but I do recall that it is on the same side as her missing eye.  It isn’t pretty, folk!


----------



## the Jester

*Deeper into the Underdark*

Deeper into the Underdark our heroes go, until they start to hear a loud *CRACK!* ahead in the distance.  Irregular, not always exactly the same, but coming over and over again nonetheless; and as our heroes move cautiously forward, they begin to discern that it is the sound of rock impacting upon rock.  Very nervously, our heroes move forward yet further, closing on the sounds.  As the distance narrows, Federico offers to creep ahead and take a quick look; and when he returns he reports that it is a giant making the noise by hurling rocks at one another!  It seems an aimless game, yet our heroes are reluctant to take it at face value.  So they move forward with all due caution.

The giant is male, hairless, unarmed (as near as our heroes can tell).  His skin is slate-grey, and he is much, much bigger then even the tallest human. As our heroes come close enough to get a good look at him, they are surprised to find that he is weeping, with his head in his hands.

”Hey, don’t cry!” exclaims Federico.  “Here, Mr. Giant, look at me!”  And the kobold begins japing and jawing, making goofy faces, juggling stones and going into slapstick antics.  The giant looks up, drooling a little, and after just a moment he seems to forget his cares, laughing uproariously and slapping his knees.

Soon communication is established between the giant and our heroes, though it is all translated through Naomi and Achtung and their knowledge of Undercommon; no one in the party speaks his native tongue, Giant, and he rapidly demonstrates that he’s not exactly the brightest.  With the kind of sensitivity he typically shows, Sandy finally asks Hortense, “Hey, is this guy a ‘tard?”

She huffs, a little offended.  “Well, he does seem a little slow...”

Indeed, when asked what he’s doing and where he lives, the giant (who reveals that his name is Granite) gets confused, eventually leading our heroes to believe that he is lost, he’s not supposed to be out alone, and his people live in a hidden cave.  Our heroes, largely of good heart, talk it over and decide to help him find his way home.  “Maybe his parents will reward us,” suggests Federico.

Beau scoffs.  “Or maybe they’ll try to eat us, or kill us to prevent us from telling anyone where their hidden lair is.”

Granite is indeed mentally retarded, and he gets frustrated easily.  Unfortunately, being a stone giant, when he gets angry he has the potential to collapse most of the tunnels our heroes are in.  They therefore take care to ensure that he doesn’t get worked up, with Federico more than anyone else keeping Granite occupied and amused.  

At one point, as they search for the stone giant lair, a terrible thought occurs to Naomi.  _What if the giants turned him loose because he was unfit or something?_ she wonders.  _What if they don’t want him back?_  The thought that returning with Granite might anger his tribe haunts her until they reach the giants. 

When they reach the secret stone giant cave, Hiddenstone, puzzling out their path from what they can elicit from Granite, our heroes are worried at what reaction they will receive; but they are treated with grace and courtesy, and Granite’s parents are relieved to have him back.  The giants feed our heroes a curious meal of fungi and deep dwelling creatures, and in the morning the party resumes their descent (the trip to Hiddenstone had reversed several hours of their progress).

A strange ball of fungus, easily 10’ is diameter, assails the party as they travel.  It is dangerous, squirting out a cloud of spores that infest our heroes, leaving them sickened and blinded; but the party prevails, with Federico finally popping it with his _wand of magic missiles._  After the fungus-ball is defeated, our heroes hole up for a few days to recuperate, as several of them were badly infested by the spores.

“The Underdark is dangerous,” commendts Hortense at one point.  

Beau responds, “Not as dangerous as the jungle.  It killed Timothy!”  Our heroes have a moment of silence for poor dead Timothy.

***

_*8/14/369 O.L.G., 4 p.m., Dyshim’s Underdark*_

A 1000-yard long, kidney-shaped cave with a clean water source (a hot spring, in fact) serves as the home to a thriving trade community.  Signs posted in Undercommon at all three entrances to the place spell out the rules: all weapons to be peace bonded, all casters’ fingers to be bound likewise.  No combat is permitted within the confines of the trading post cavern.  Our heroes peace bond themselves and move into the trading post, which seems to have five buildings set up: a mapmaker, an armorer, a jeweler, a general store and an alchemist.  A number of different, unsettling shoppers are wandering through the community.

The first thing Martini does is invest in a good map.  It indicates a good number of interesting-looking sites, including kuo-toa, troglodytes, an undead city...

“Hey, look!” he exclaims, spying something very interesting indeed.  “C’mere, guys, check this out!”

The others hustle over and look at where Martini’s finger is pointing.

_Deep Halflings_

“Oh my,” murmurs Naomi.

The party has to make their own camp; there are no accomodations set up for visitors.  After buying and selling a variety of items from the various merchants of the trading post, our heroes talk about what to do next. 

“We should go get paid first,” suggests Federico.  “I mean, we’ve done what we said we would for the dwarves.  Now we should get paid!”

“That’s a good idea, but I would like to check out these deep halflings,” says Sandy.  

“Me too,” agrees most of the party.  

“Get paid first.”  Chief Jawbreaker nods.  

“So let’s rest a night here first,” whines Federico.  “One of the guys over there has the best rotting fish treats!”


_*Next Time:*_ On their way out our heroes encounter a band of trouble!


----------



## threshel

Deep Halflings.  Intriguing.
Still great stuff, Jester.

J


----------



## the Jester

I'm glad you're enjoying it!

I'm working hard to catch up with the actual game- I am currently roughly 13 games behind in terms of catching up to the present game, 7.5 of which are halfling games, so expect a lot more updates in the near future!  If you're interested, you can see my progress here, where I have the master list of story hour progress and the entire campaign.  Unfortunately I no longer have notes from previous campaigns, which are actually all connected to the present-day Cydra in the greater sense.


----------



## omrob

*Whee the Underdark*

Federico had a great time during these games, being underground and out of the sun...

Deciding to wander around in the Underdark, and only really only going back and forth to the Trading Post...(small spoiler)

IIRC he used his Wand of Tounges to communicate with Granite...After finding the secret door, we all promised Granite that we wouldn't tell anyone we found him... and so cautiously waited at the door for someone to come. 

We could only communicate with the Giants through magic, so it wasn't to enlightening or fruitful of a time, however...Federico did some great improv theater that got him a  life size statue in the plaza of the Giants home...much to his glee. 

He left one of his hats on it...


----------



## Sandain

Woohoo! I finally got to the end.  Do you have any maps of Cydra Jester?


----------



## the Jester

Sandain said:
			
		

> Woohoo! I finally got to the end.  Do you have any maps of Cydra Jester?




Yes, but not in any kind of electronic format.  I've been meaning to scan some for quite a while now.  When I do I'll prolly attach it in the live story hour threads.


----------



## Sandain

Awesome, it would make it  alot easier to steal ideas and locations for my game if I had a map.


*thinks* Thankyou Jester a map would be great.


Doh.


----------



## the Jester

Sandain said:
			
		

> Awesome, it would make it  alot easier to steal ideas and locations for my game if I had a map.
> 
> 
> *thinks* Thankyou Jester a map would be great.
> 
> 
> Doh.




Unfortunately, most of my maps are too big to scan cheaply, but at least an overview or two are definitely on the list of things to do. 

Too bad about the issue with the size- my best map is of Dorhaus and one of my players painted it after I drew it, so it's a gorgeous 18x24 full color hand-rendered map of Dorhaus.  Love that one!


----------



## the Jester

_*8/15/369 O.L.G., Dyshim’s Underdark*_

Our heroes are about two hours out from the trading post when they walk into an ambush.  

They are walking up the gradual incline of the long caves they followed downward, hoping to get paid by the dwarves of Ft. Kintax.  Federico is riding Portnoy, his new dog (he still gets all misty when he thinks of poor lost Ethel).  Beau is puzzling over the map they bought at the trading post (being sure to spend the couple of hundred gold pieces to obtain the best one available).  The party enters a long gallery cavern, with a pair of low balconies overlooking the lower part of the cave, and finds to their dismay that both balconies are swarming with orcish archers.  More orcs, these wielding spears, are on the ground, and at the front is a huge ugly ogre gripping a spiked chain in his gauntleted hands.

“Good day,” the ogre rumbles, surprisingly, in Halfling.  “My name is Bezzandine Triskelion.”  He seems unusually well-spoken for an ogre.  He gives the party a gruesome smile.  “These are my boys.  Before you can pass, little ones, you will have to pay us our toll.”

“Oh?” swaggers Beau.  “And how much is your toll?”

“That depends,” replies Bezzandine.  “How much do you have?”

It is one of those deciding moments for our heroes.  There are more than a dozen orcs to deal with up here, plus the ogre.  It might be wisest to pay them and go by peacefully.  Yet... yet they are _halflings._  If they allow themselves to be victimized now are they not inviting further victimization of halflings later?

Perhaps, had they not become so seasoned to danger, our heroes _would have_ taken the easy way out.  But so many adventures they have been on, from the dragonstone and Bellhold’s possession to the Dogtooth Islands to their current adventures in the Underdark, that they have faced death a hundred times and more, and defeated him.  And so now, secure in their might, aware of how strong they are growing, yet aware too of how deadly this could be, our heroes resolve to stand up to the bullying ogre.

Federico is a sweet little kobold.  He says, “I _suggest_ you let us past without paying!”  

One of the orcs cries out, “Sorcery!” in orcish.  Then there’s an explosion of movement and the battle is on.  Before the ogre can react, Beau blasts him with a _scorching ray_ to the face.  He bellows in rage, whipping his spiked chain up.  Federico squawks and dashes away from the front line, starting to jape and joke about how stupid ogres are.  Meanwhile arrows and spears both are ramming into our heroes.  The dogs are barking and growling as they leap at the enemy, trying to pull them down.

The ogre proves that he is not only well-spoken, he’s a cunning tactician and, yes, let’s go ahead and say it: smart.  He’s a smart ogre.  He whips that spiked chain around, flipping Brickneck onto his back with it and then slashing it across the dwarf.  Then he pounds his chain into Brickneck again, and the dwarf spasms into unconsciousness, bleeding and groaning.  Then the ogre trips Jawbreaker, who spends almost the entire battle fighting on his back!

Beau flings magical assaults everywhere.  The orcs press their attack, but Jawbreaker cuts them down viciously left and right, laughing maniacally.  Zeke cuts and thrusts, dueling with one orc of particular skill.  _He must be a lieutenant or something,_ thinks the freedom fighter.  

Another of the orcs moves up next to Brickneck’s fallen form and begins chanting.  To her horror, Hortense recognizes the spell.  _He’s casting _death knell! she thinks.  “Stop him!!” she shouts, but she’s too late.  Fortunately the hardy monk manages to resist the _death knell._

Scowling, the orcish priest rises from Brickneck’s fallen form and begins chanting and making passes through the air before him.  Hortense recognizes this one as a summoning.

The orcs are starting to fold under the sustained attack of the halfling force and their dog allies.  Though an orc does manage to break Beau’s nose, they are being pressed back.  The shaman, meanwhile, casts a _sound burst_ in the midst of our already-disarrayed heroes as a fiendish dire ape bounds up and begins tearing into our heroes.  The party focuses on it (except for Beau, who fires another _magic missile_ at the ogre), and soon it scrambles away from Jawbreaker’s furious series of attacks, at least momentarily.

For a moment our heroes have some breathing space, and Ezeekiel uses it to _lay on hands_ upon Jawbreaker, who is bleeding from a multitude of orcish cuts and ape wounds.  Beau keeps a steady burn of _scorching rays_ on the ogre, who is starting to grimace.  But now he’s reached Zeke, who manages to draw a line of blood on his chest with his axe.

“You’ll pay for that, little man!” Bezzadine roars, and his chain flips out, wraps around Ezeekiel’s axe and whips it from his hand!  Then the other end slashes across the freedom fighter’s head, knocking him away and leaving his ears ringing with the force of the blow.  Then a layer of thick _grease_, summoned by Federico, appears under the ogre.  Still he maintains his feet.  But another flare of scorching light from Beau fells the ogre at last!  The grease bursts into flames, and Bezzadine twitches only briefly before expiring. 

Behind him, the shaman chooses this moment to disappear from view.  In orcish, the shaman’s voice floats across the room to his men: “FLEE!”

This order doesn’t seem to include the ape.  It fights valiantly against our heroes, but Ezeekiel and Hortense press it long enough for Jawbreaker at last to stand.  With a mighty bellow, he fells the orc.  Federico is rushing around healing the injured dogs, while Beau fires a last spiteful _magic missile_ to slay one of the fleeing orcs.

“Whew!” exclaims Ezeekiel.

***

After looting, our heroes return to the trading post to sell the mundane gear the bandit gang had.  Two items are of particular interest, however: a top hat and a ring, both of which radiate magic.  They get them _identified_ at the trading post, and immediately give the top hat to Naomi (it is a _hat of intellect +4_).  They are horrified at the ring’s properties.

“It’s cursed!” exclaims Naomi.

It allows one to live without eating.  “Think of it,” Beau shudders.  _”The horror!  The horror!”_

“Growing skinnier and skinnier... ugh!”  Naomi shudders.

It is ironically called a _ring of sustenance._

A number of other items that they have already _identified_ are already in their possession, so they decide to dice to divide them up.  In the end, Naomi gets the hat, the cursed ring goes to Ezeekiel, Martini receives a _ring of protection +2_, Federico a _wand of tongues_, and Jawbreaker takes the last item in question, a _potion of cure serious wounds._

Then it’s back up the tunnel, once more attempting to reach the fort and get paid.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes encounter a horror they dub- the Leg Holocaust!  Don’t miss it!


----------



## Brain

The tophat was sized for a small creature, it looked really funny on the ogre.  It still looks funny on Naomi, but for different reasons. 

One thing I just remembered about that fight, when the shaman summoned the Ape, Hortense almost counterspelled it, but failed.  Would have saved us a bunch of trouble if that had worked.


----------



## Sandain

Why scan? borrow a friends digital camera?

How do your players roll stats Jester?  You seem to allow any Prc from any source?


----------



## the Jester

Sandain said:
			
		

> How do your players roll stats Jester?  You seem to allow any Prc from any source?




4d6 drop the low die, arrange to taste. 

I'll allow prcs from any source, but only after the specific prc meets my approval.  (My prestige class doc, available at my Yahoo! group (Cydra), lists which ones you can take from a number of sources.)

For instance, Complete Warrior has cavalier (sure, take it!) and frenzied berserker (nuh-uh).  Complete Divine has contemplative (like it) and radiant servant of Pelor (forget about it). 

So, overall, it's case by case.


----------



## the Jester

*The Leg Holocaust!*

_*8/15/369, 4 p.m., Dyshim’s Underdark*_

Plodding along, our heroes try to be quiet, but their need for light outweighs any attempts at stealth they might manage.  After all, a torch or a _light_ spell underground, in a lightless realm of caves, can be seen unless something is in the way.  Even the faintest glimmers are visible; it takes a few twists and turns of tunnel to completely blacken an area behind (or before) them.  

And as they gradually begin again their ascent, seeking the exit to the dwarf-held Fort Kintax above, our heroes never even consider dispensing with the light.  Without it, only Federico and their dwarven friend Brickneck Hot-Metal can see anything at all, thanks to their darkvision.  Moving along through dangerous caverns like this blind is out of the question.

Ironically, however, it is not their light that gives them away; rather it is the noise they make as they progress.  

Scuttling out of the darkness comes a horrible thing.  At first the party takes it for some monstrous hairy spider the size of a cow; but then they realize it has more then eight legs.  And _then_ they realize that it is nothing _but_ legs.  

Swiftly, it scurries towards Beau, then slashes out at him with a leg.  It has a deadly-looking claw on the end, and it tears through the halfling sorcerer in a shower of blood.  He screams, then replies with a _shocking grasp._  The others leap to Beau’s defense; Hortense uses the healing wand she got as a reward from the god of riddles to keep him on his feet.  Sandy, Zeke and several of the dogs rush forward, trying to drive the monster- immediately Federico dubs it a ‘leg holocaust’- away from Beau, but it’s having none of that.  With a sickening thunk it spears Beau on a leg and starts to scuttle away with him.  He jerks once, gives out an agonized cry, and stops moving. 

“No!” shouts Sandy.  “Don’t let it get away!  Beau might still be alive!”

If he is, Hortense will save him if they can get him away from it.  She was born for moments like this.  She was born to be a healer.  She steels herself to do what she must.

Brickneck Hot-Metal whips a tanglefoot bag from his considerable pack of gear and underhands it towards the leg holocaust.  Unfortunately, it hits a stalactite hanging from the ceiling, discharging its sticky mess where it can do no good.  With a snort, Brickneck leaps forward to the attack, landing a solid fist against the holocaust’s side.  

Ezeekiel is in close melee with it, and it slashes and stabs him four times in six seconds.  He staggers away, nearly insensate from the beating he just took, and then one of its hooked legs snags him and draws him in.  In horror, he realizes that he’s been grappled.* 

Hortense feels a pang of fear in her heart.  _No, I won’t let it take you!_ she vows.  She invokes Fensor’s blessings and calls out to Ezeekiel.  “I will take some of your pain!” she cries.  She almost swoons as the monster squeezes him ruthlessly, and she absorbs some of the damage.

“Oh no!” exclaims Federico.  He casts _grease,_ and suddenly Zeke is coated in slick, slippery lard.  He wriggles free of the leg holocaust gratefully, then strikes it again!

The monster seems to be thinking, _Mmmm, greasy armored halfling,_ for it instantly springs to the attack on Zeke again, despite Jawbreaker and Sandy raining blows on it from either side.  Once again the monster tears into the freedom fighter to terrible effect.  Hortense has cast _Fensor’s sword,_ but it keeps on missing!**  It squeezes Ezeekiel again, and were it not for the _shield other_ that Hortense had invoked, he would surely be dead!  As it is his vision is beginning to grey out.  He grits his teeth and struggles, but he’s weakening.  He can’t muster enough strength to break free.

Fortunately for him, however, while the thing is focused on him Jawbreaker is maneuvering into position.  And then he strikes, savaging the leg holocaust with his sword.  It spasms, and then Jawbreaker sweeps around to hit it again, hewing deep into its central mass.  Several legs slice free.  The leg holocaust collapses.

Hortense sprints to Zeke’s side and casts _cure moderate wounds_ on him.  Then she rushes over to Beau. 

Still alive!

And a _cure moderate wounds_ for him too.  

Soon both of them are up and around.  Our heroes poke at the nasty corpse of the thing, but it seems to be slowly putrifying before their eyes.  With a collective shudder they hurry on.

***

_*8/18/369 O.L.G., 11 a.m., Ft. Kintax, Dyshim*_

Without further incident, our heroes emerge three days later from the creepy tunnel that leads through the iron maiden in the torture chamber in the dungeons below Fort Kintax and ascend to seek their payment from the dwarves.  Not only have they cleared the dungeons of danger, they have also learned much of the terrain below the fort.  The dwarven leader, Derknin, is interested in all they can tell him, but he is a hard bargainer.  Instead of proving eager to pay them for more information, he is willing to trade them passage into the Underdark via the fort in return for what information they can provide about it.  He does gladly pay them for the services they have already rendered him, however, which makes our heroes cheerful indeed!

As they rest and recover, Naomi gives several of them tattoos.  Federico gets a hot kobold bitch on his chest.  Beau gets Timothy’s name on his left arm and Dogtooth’s on his right, with an anchor.  Sandy gets ‘Power Through Justice’ tattooed across his shoulders and upper back.  

After some debate, our heroes decide to go back into the Underdark.  Their primary motivation?

“Let’s find those deep halflings,” urges Beau.

***

_*8/19/369 O.L.G., 8 p.m., Dyshim’s Underdark*_

Their first night back in the Underdark, our heroes rest at a crossroads that, according to the map they have, connects on the one hand to an undead city.  It proves a bad place to watch.  First a group of goblins (not from the direction of the undead city but rather coming from the other road in the crossroads and headed the other way), then a triceratops, and then a pair of skinless, acid-sprewing dwarven undead, and finally our heroes acknowledge that perhaps they have chosen a bad resting spot.***  So they pack up, wearily (and more than a little bloodily, at this point) trudge on further, and finally settle in to a deep sleep, with the first couple of guards pretty darn exhausted when all is said and done.  They have a dwarven scout with them, named Bulwin, but they are not getting a very high opinion of him yet.  But he is there to report back to Derknin above.  And Brickneck enjoys his company, as a fellow dwarf.  He asks if Bulwin has a sister or anything, desperately hoping to hitch his cousin up.

_Then,_ Brickneck thinks, _he’ll tell me where the Forge is!_

***

The party spends about a day harvesting the triceratops, then travels through the darkness, exploring different caves.  Periodically they encounter something dangerous; once it is another giant slug (they seem prevalent on Dyshim), once it is a cave trouble.  That one is very close by the end, with both Sandy and Brickneck nearly bleeding to death.  Fortunately, Naomi is able to bind the dwarf’s wounds enough to keep him alive, while Beau desperately digs out a potion that heals Sandy.  “Whew!” Beau comments, “I didn’t know what that was a potion of!”

But it is dangerous down here, and their investigations soon ascertain that the halflings are past a kuo-toan realm- and, if their map is accurate, the kuo-toan caves are underwater.

Once they realize that, our heroes quickly give up on the thrills of the Underdark, at least for the time being.  They finally re-emerge into Fort Kintax again and rest a day, eating and drinking with the dwarves, telling their tales, etc.  In the morning they will set out again for Dovishtal, where Brickneck’s cousin pretty much runs things.

_He has to tell me where the Forge is,_ thinks Brickneck for the millionth time.  _He has to!

*Next Time:*_ Shennanigans like you ain’t never seen!  The most Jerry Springer dnd episode of all time, with dwarven beard-pulling, entirely inappropriate _suggestions_ by the bushel, and maybe even a little insight into Brickneck’s cousin!


*And as we all know, the two things that consistently seem to kill members of this party are _grappling_ and _climbing._   If you’re a new reader, the first two pcs to die did so via climbing and grappling, and the trend has continued.

**This is her version of _spiritual hammer,_ er _weapon._   She didn’t hit with it for a long, long time.  In fact, _Fensor’s sword_ became notorious with the group for a while.

***I may be wrong, but I believe this was the time Martini got about a -20 on his Survival check to find a good place to camp.  (We use exploding dice- roll a natural 1 and you reroll and subtract; roll a natural 20 and you reroll and add, etc.)


----------



## the Jester

*Dwarven Jerry Springer*

_*7/30/369 O.L.G., Dovishtal*_

Grimglad Hot-Metal snarls to himself.  He’s in a foul temper, and he scowls at everyone he sees.  He isn’t one to cross in Dovishtal, either; between him and Bazto, they pretty much run things.  His alliance with the Bleakist has been one of the best decisions he ever made.

Not like going after the Forge.

Grimglad is dour even for a dwarf.  He is the last survivor of his clan, whose depleted numbers mad an attempt to claim an ancestral forge several years ago.  Several of them came to Grimglad with claims of having seen a ghost, but Grimglad himself never saw it and it never attacked them- until they fired up the forge.  Then it came at them with a tremendous hammer, wailing, and slew several of them before they managed to destroy it.  Unfortunately, it reformed several days later and slew them almost to a man; only Grimglad and his brother, Dimblad, survived.  Staggering away, they realized that all their brethren lay dead behind them and the clan’s honor with them.  On their way they quarreled, and it came to blows; the next morning, Grimglad went on alone.  His journey ended in Dovishtal, and now, last survivor of his clan, he wants nothing more than to reclaim the Hot-Metal Forge.

_Hidden away, aye,_ he thinks, _but I have a map!_

That evening, while he is running his hostel, some strangers come into town- mostly children, at first glance, but Grimglad is quickly disabused of that notion.  They are halflings.  With them is a dwarf, and naturally the fellow seeks out Grimglad.

Turns out, much to the surprise of each of them, that he’s a Hot-Metal, named Brickneck.  _Country cousin,_ thinks Grimglad scornfully, noting the dwarf’s overburdened cart, _and a penny pincher to boot!  Well, Brickneck, blood is thicker than water, but gold is thicker and heavier still.  Nothing worth having is free, cousin._

During the evening Grimglad slips up and reveals that he has been to the forge.  Brickneck begs him for the details of his encounter there, and more, for the location.  Grimglad gives him the one without revealing the other.

“But, cousin!” Brickneck exclaims.  “I want to seek it out, to reclaim it for our clan’s glory!”

“Nope.”  Grimglad casts about for an excuse.  “It’s too dangerous.  There are only two of us left.  You need to settle down and have kids so the clan doesn’t die.”

“_I_ need to settle down?”

“Then I can go back to the forge to avenge my clanmates, secure that the line goes on.”

“Why don’t _you_ get married?  You have an establishment, you have a hostel here, you’ve got a life- I’m just a wandering aventurer.”

“That’s why it should be you.  Too dangerous of a lifestyle.  Settle down or die, that’s what adventurers do.”

They argue for some time, with Grimglad finally giving the impression that he’s willing to settle down for the right woman just to end the conversation.  

And, when the strangers leave (claiming to be heading to Fort Kintax, burning his hill trash cousin’s wagon right in front of the hostel, and him trying to use the hostel as free storage- not likely!), Grimglad scowls and shakes his head.  _Falling in with halflings never leads a dwarf to a good end,_ he grumbles to himself, and promptly puts the encounter in the back of his mind, half-forgotten.

***

_*8/27/369 O.L.G., 8 p.m., Grimglad’s Hostel in Dovishtal*_

When Brickneck enters the hostel again, Grimglad starts.  _Damn fool,_ he thinks dourly, then scowls at the party.  He remains, perpetually, in a foul temper which becomes severely agitated when Brickneck tries to reclaim his chain. 

“You paid for a week and you been gone almost a month,” he grunts.  “It’s mine.”

“What!” explodes Brickneck, and quickly a shouting match ensues in Dwarven.  The hostel’s drinking patrons ogle the scene in disbelief.  Then when the subject of wife hunting comes up things get even worse.

“I found a nice girl for you at Fort Kintax, now tell me where the Forge is!” demands Brickneck.

“Nope, I ain’t gettin’ married- you are,” Grimglad responds.*  

”What!”  Brickneck’s face is getting progressively redder and redder.  They shout back and forth about who is getting married to whom, and who said what the last time Brickneck was here.  Finally, with an inarticulate cry of rage, Brickneck seizes Grimglad by the beard!  With a furious roar, Grimglad grabs hold of Brickneck’s beard as well!  They begin pulling back and forth, screaming at each other at the top of their lungs, in a frenzied dwarven scene the likes of which nobody present has ever seen (or even imagined) before.

“It must be some kind of dwarven ceremonial wedding chain,” Federico comments from the sidelines.  “Are they getting married?”

“You know,” Naomi says thoughtfully, “I can’t tell male from female with dwarves.”

The screaming rises in pitch suddenly as Brickneck staggers back, blood on his face.  “Oh my god,” he groans.

“What happened?” cries Beau.  A human is in his way.  He jumps, but can’t see over the human’s head.

“He just ripped out Brickneck’s beard,” Sandy murmurs.  He chuckles.

“I... I’m gonna KILL YOU!!!” shouts Brickneck, and his hands clench up.  He starts to move forward, pushed past his breaking point, blood pouring from his mangled chin, and Federico finally does what he’s been trying to resist doing for a while.  

He casts a _suggestion_.  On Brickneck.

“Don’t kill him,” the kobold _suggests,_ “kiss him!”

_What a brilliant idea!_ cackles Naomi mentally, and uses her own psychic ability to _suggest_ to the dwarves that they make out.  Grimglad clouts Brickneck with a hammer as the monk moves in, and then Grimglad drops his hammer and sturggles hand to hand, crying out in dismay, as Brickneck pounces upon him and fights to press his lips to his cousin.  

“What are you doing!” Grimglad cries out.

“Come to papa, baby!” Brickneck moans.

“What- this- what are you- stop, it’s- I- this isn’t right!”  Ezeekiel is becoming quite flustered by all this.  Mys is appalled.  She has been traveling with our heroes thus far, but this is too much for her.  She gives a strangled cry and runs out of the room.  The rest of the party, however, is cackling with glee.  Naomi moves behind the bar- Grimglad certainly isn’t doing his job right now- and starts dispensing drinks to everyone in the place.

Beau has to get in on this one now.  He casts a _ray of enfeeblement_ into the grapple, but unfortunately (from his perspective) he zaps Brickneck!  Quickly, he casts another one and evens the odds again.  In the grapple, Brickneck is kissing on and grinding against his cousin, who is trying mightily to resist him.  So far Grimglad has thrown off several _suggestions,_ including that he marry Brickneck.  Nonetheless, the lover’s embrace that Brickneck is holding his cousin in is enough to keep him from escaping or reaching his hammer again.  Federico casts a _grease_ into the mix to keep things from getting boring, and then Brickneck pulls out some manacles.

“That’s enough,” says another voice.  Our heroes look.  The only other dwarf in the place has risen up.  “You’ve had your fun and then some.  Now you’re done.  You should get out of here.  I already sent someone to get help.”  The crowd suddenly seems to realize that they have just witnessed the abject humiliation of the town’s not-so-nice boss.  Several people hurry out.  Several others pretend they haven’t been watching.  But a lot of them figure the damage is done, and maybe they’re right.  Still more stand up to back up the dwarf.  Maybe if they try to help out now Grimglad will remember them favorably.  

Our heroes immediately can see that there is nothing to gain by staying here at this point.  They gather their effects and hurry out.  Behind them, Grimglad screams, “You’ll pay for this!  You’ll all pay!”

“Let’s get outta here,” Sandy urges.  They mount their dogs- at least, those who have them- and move quickly to the wilds out of Dovishtal.

Everyone but Brickneck gets a good laugh out of it, even moreso when Jawbreaker cracks, “Hey Brickneck, you have baby now?  Haw haw!”

Brickneck makes his weird noise- “NNNHHH!”- and gets ready to spring at Jawbreaker, anger roaring through him.  Before he does anything that he’ll regret, Naomi _suggests_ to him that he go do some cartwheels.  

About three hours out of Dovishtal our heroes rest in a gulley, then give a long pep talk to Brickneck.  “You’ve passed the test,” Federico opines.  “Now you’re in.”

“Test?  In?”

”Yeah, you know- like an initiation.”

“But- my beard!”

“Hey, that was your own fault.  We didn’t have anything to do with that.”

“Yeah,” Naomi interjects, “we just helped along afterward.”  Brickneck sighs unhappily.  They make camp, determining to return to Sritivara after a rest.  Ezeekiel is more than a little worried about the state it is in; they left it without much of a functional government.

He should be. 

_*Next Time:*_ Return to Sritivara!

*When we were playing, it was here that the Jerry Springer jokes started, and it only escalated as we went on.


----------



## the Jester

Assuming I remember to bring it with me, I'm going to try to scan a map of Dyshim at work tonight, maybe also the map of the Underdark that the pcs got.


----------



## Brain

Here's a thread inspired by that game session.

James, if you see this before you go to work, also try to scan the Timothy treasure maps if you can.  I think your story hours could use more visualization.


----------



## omrob

*HOT Hot-Metal*

I remember thinking at the time...

"Oh no Somebodys gonna get hurt, maybe die! We need a peaceful resolution..." 

That's what prompted Federico to suggest that his other party member make Love not War...

IT just kinda got sillier from that point, with Grimglad trying to resist, and Naomi and my addl suggestions...

Too bad Grimglad got all freaked out by the brotherly love...

hehhehe


----------



## hippiejedi2

I recall two suggestions to the tone of Brickneck "you should hump your cousins leg like a kobold as to an orc" and another suggestion to the cousin to submit.  I think they both succeeded?  In which case this is really the leg holocaust. SHANNANIGANS


----------



## the Jester

Speaking of shennanigans, in preparation for the next update, I thought I'd post a link to a relevent thread that discusses... well... the shennanigans that I'm about to pull on my pcs.   

Here, let's talk about awl pikes.


----------



## the Jester

*Things Go Awry*

_*9/3/369 O.L.G., 3 p.m., the road to Sritivara*_

The rest of our heroes’ journey, though not uneventful, was simply a journey interrupted by a couple of enocounters.  Neither the bulette nor the river troll caused the party an exceptional amount of distress, though the time required to harvest the bulette’s hide is considerable and delayed our heroes’ journey somewhat.  The most exciting part of it was the party’s discussion of the name H.A.M., or the Halfling Action Militia.  They collectively like it.

Now, at the gates to Sritivara, the party finds a group of tough-looking guards in uniforms resembling the Strogassian.  The guards give them a considerable hassle; apparently, the word that Martini killed the old mayor is out amongst them somehow.  The halflings keep themselves from giving too much away or getting too mouthy with the guards, finally _suggesting_ that they aren’t the halflings the guards are looking for.  Once inside the town, Ezeekiel insists on checking in with Grizliwentho, the gang leader that our heroes had previously defeated and made into their man, and what he discovers horrifies him.

Two days before, the _Black Sea_ and the _Bloody Chum_ (two ships from Zacradose, the island that was technically the capitol of the Strogassian province including Dyshim) had arrived in Sritivara, disgorging over a hundred marines.  The reinforcements the now-dead mayor had been seeking had arrived at last.  But their uniforms are slightly different than the standard ones they had worn previously, leaving some of the Strogassian Imperial marks off and making some subtle changes.  The former governor of Zacradose has apparently decided that, with the death of the Dark Emperor (still not known to most people, but our heroes read between the lines while traveling with Laodegan), the time is ripe to carve out his own kingdom.  Now, instead of Governor Stackler, he sports himself King Stackler.  And he has sent several hundred troops to bring his ‘rebellious possession’ back in line. 

“Oppression!” curses Zeke.  

Unfortunately, while the party is in conference with Grizliwentho, Naomi manages to deal the Green Tigers several insults while the party and the gang leader talk.  Finally, she is ejected, fuming, from the safe house they are at to wait in the alley out back.  Muttering imprecations to herself, she lights up a cigar, tips her top hat back and sighs.  _Damn humans,_ she thinks.  _They’re so uppity... yet so tasty._

Then, suddenly, pain explodes in her head as someone saps her from behind.  Naomi drops like a sack of potatoes.  

Inside, Brickneck nearly picks a fight, and he too is ejected from the gang’s safe house.  Much like Naomi, he is ambushed and taken prisoner without much fuss.

The others, unaware of the shennanigans in the alleyway outside, continue their discussion with Grizliwentho.  “We left too soon after we liberated this place,” states Ezeekiel firmly.  “We can’t make the same mistake again.”

Grizliwentho nods seriously.  “We’ll do what we can to aid you,” he promises.  “My boys don’t like these Zacradosian soldiers any more than you do.”

A few minutes later our heroes head out into the alleyway to look for their friends.  Not only are both Brickneck and Naomi missing, but Naomi’s top hat lies forlornly against the wall of the building next to the Green Tigers’ safe house.  “She wouldn’t have dropped this willingly,” Federico says worriedly. 

Just then soldiers start to pour into the alleyway.  With a collective cry of dismay, our heroes turn and flee.  Hortense casts _obscuring mist,_ which helps them escape capture- for the moment, anyway.  They rush through the streets towards the halfling district, praying that the soldiers won’t receive much in the way of directions from the townsfolk they are newly-oppressing.  Unfortunately, whether they are betrayed by an informer or simply unlucky, moments after arriving at the halfling district they find themselves engaged by a squadron of longspear and awl pike-wielding soldiers!  Federico takes out a pair of them with a _sleep_ spell, and they are individually no match for our heroes; but they move in ranks, with one ranks of awl pikes behind a double-layered front of longspears.  Our heroes try to fall back and pepper their foes with missile fire, and for a moment the formation wavers as Martini slays one after another of the spearmen; but then they form up again, clustering around their sleeping comrades and taking a moment to wake them up.  

Federico tries another trick.  Using a _ventriloquism_ spell, he attempts to fool the enemy into believing that they are about to receive an attack from the rear.  Their sergeant sees through the clever little kobold’s deception.  “Fools!  It’s a trick!  ATTACK!!!” he roars.  The spearmen surge forward again.

But the halfling strategy is working, thinning the soldiers’ ranks with arrows and bolts; and Federico shoots another _sleep_ spell their way.  The formation wavers again and Ezeekiel charges in with his axe, crying out, “H.A.M.!!!!”  He hews about, slashing ahead and to either side, and the sergeant turns to spring towards him, sword weaving in a complex pattern.  He never makes it- one of Martini’s arrows hits him in the ear, slaying him instantly.  

In a few more seconds the battle is over.  The squad is defeated, with the last of the pikemen surrendering to our heroes.  

“Where are our friends?  What are you doing with them?” demands Zeke angrily.

The man cowers.  “They have been taken prisoner.  Commander Lender...”

“Lender!” exclaims Martini.  That’s the name of one of the major halfling clans, famous for usury.  Just to be sure, he asks, “Is he a halfling?”

Their prisoner nods.  Grone Lender, it turns out, is actually one of the officers of the invasion force, and according to the party’s captive, he is responsible for instilling the fear of the invasion force into the island.  He is a creative and sadistic villain, from accounts the party heard earlier.  After learning what they can from him, the party releases him with an admonishment to get out of town.  Sandy gripes about letting him go, but Ezeekiel won’t harm a prisoner.  

Then things get even more complicated.  The battle, which happened in the halfling quarter, was naturally observed by the locals (from within the safety of their homes and the quarter’s tavern).  Now one of them emerges, whom our heroes have seen before: Heather Peachtree.  Our heroes’ relations with the Peachtree clan have been very poor since once of their clansmates shot out Benjy Peachtree’s eye a year before or thereabouts.  Now his cousin Heather challenges the party to explain their actions, and angrily begins to challenge them to a fight.

Jawbreaker has seen enough.  He wants her to be his wife.

So he tries to club her over the head and drag her off by the hair. 

But things go horribly awry.  She turns her head towards the blow he directs with the flat of his axe instead of away from it, and there’s a sickening crack.  

Her neck snaps, and Heather Peachtree collapses in a heap on the ground, insensate and paralyzed.

”Jawbreaker, no!” cries Hortense.

“What are you doing!” shouts Ezeekiel is dismay.

“Jawbreaker want wife,” he says.  “Jawbreaker thought... is she okay?  Uh oh,” he grumbles.  This isn’t how things are supposed to turn out!  To his chagrin, Heather Peachtree is groaning deliriously in pain, and her head lies at a horrible angle.

”Heather, I’m so sorry!” cries Zeke.  “Oh my god, we didn’t mean to...”

A rotten fruit splatters on Jawbreaker.  He turns to see several angry young halflings with handsfuls of fruit advancing, throwing at them.  This is _not_ a good day for our heroes.

“Retreat to the sewers!” cries Federico.

_*Next Time:*_ What do our heroes do now?  Things are definitely not the best they’ve been for the party.  I guess the best next move is... to set something on fire!!


----------



## the Jester

*Setting the Town On Fire*

Our heroes retreat to the sewers and escape their pursuers.  They are worried sick about Naomi and Brickneck- they don’t even know if their friends are still alive!  Quickly, they make their way to another sewer grate and escape from the town.  By now the sun is touching the horizon, about to start submerging into the sea.  Our heroes are wounded and shaken.  They wash the sewage off themselves in the sea and then make an exhausted camp for the night.  

_What are we going to do about Naomi and Brickneck?_

***

_*9/4/369 O.L.G., 7:30 a.m., just outside of Sritivara*_

Our heroes hurriedly debate their best course of action.  They need some kind of distraction to draw the majority of the troops when they attempt a rescue of their friends.  The pikemen they briefly held captive had informed the party that their friends were being held at mayor’s mansion at the center of town.  Jawbreaker, looking across the water towards Sritivara, can see both Zacradosian warships moored in the harbor.  They are swarming with men.  “Maybe we can set docks on fire,” suggests Jawbreaker.  “Then men stay on ships.”

“It might also draw the other soldiers to help fight it,” muses Federico.

The party mulls this over, and it seems as good a plan as any.   Soon Jawbreaker is quietly swimming through the waters of the harbor, trying to stay unseen, only his nose and the top of his head poking out of the water.  He stealthily reaches the docks and pulls himself swiftly up to the top, still unnoticed.  

He has already chosen his target, and quickly drops a flask of alchemist’s fire on the dock.  Then he enters a rage, and suddenly he morphs and changes into a bear!

Now he is noticed.  Sailors shout in consternation.  Smoke is rising from the small fire.  With a mighty bat of his paw, Jawbreaker the bear smashes a large barrel of hot tar into pieces, spreading the tar all over the dock and the flames.  It is already hot enough to sear the wood of the dock, and spread out relatively thinly as it is by the force of Jawbreaker’s blow, it begins to catch more of the dock on fire.  

Shouts of “A bear, a bear!” are ringing through the air, and someone throws a rock at him; but the bear-halfling leaps back into the water and begins swimming away with powerful strokes.  He will rendezvous with the rest of the halflings later; he has done his part for now.

Meanwhile the others attempt to spread a little panic by shouting from the shadows.  There is nothing worse, in a town such as Sritivara, than a fire that spreads to be out of control.  Soon sailors and soldiers are swarming to try to stop the fire.  The two warships are pulling away from the flames, but one of them is on fire.  It seems that Jawbreaker’s distraction is phenomenally successful.  

Moving through the streets quickly while the fire has everyone distracted, our heroes pass through the town square on their way to the mayor’s mansion.  A gallows is set up there.  Our heroes hurry.

The mansion is full of soldiers.  There are definitely too many for a direct frontal assault to work.  “We’ll have to try to rescue them en route to being executed,” Sandy says.  “Let’s hunker down and watch.”

Nothing really changes except for the growing volume of smoke.

“I hope Jawbreaker’s okay,” murmurs Federico.

“I hope Naomi and Brickneck are okay,” replies Beau.

They aren’t.

***

*1 p.m., the mayor’s mansion, Sritivara* 

The torture of Brickneck Hot-Metal begins.

***

_*3 p.m., outside the mansion*_

There is still a considerable amount of smoke pouring from the docks area, which leaves Ezeekiel very concerned.  But the party is on a rescue mission, and will not be distracted.

Finally a wagon rolls out of the mansion’s grounds, accompanied by a formation of guards wielding pikes and spears.  As it nears the square, well out of sight and hearing of the mansion, Ezeekiel _detects evil_ on the wagon and finds several evil forms within it.  

“For H.A.M.!” he cries.  “For Dogtooth!” 

“Well, I guss we’re attacking then,” comments Beau, and he casts a _mirror image_. 

Within the wagon, Naomi is bound and hooded.  But she hears Ezeekiel’s battle cry and recognizes the best opportunity she is likely to get.  “For H.A.M.!” she shouts, tapping her _tattoo of energy retort,_ and then she unleashes a blind _swarm of crystals_ in the direction of one of the voices of the guards with her that she has been hearing for the last ten minutes since boarding the wagon.  There’s a familiar tinkling sound as jagged shards of psionic crystal tear through the wagon and one of the guards, and a satisfying scream.

Then Naomi gulps as cold steel slides into her side.  She jerks and spasms, groaning with pain, but her _energy retort_ blasts out and destroys her attacker in a blast of electricity.  But the other guards inside the wagon are also eager to run her through.

Meanwhile, outside, there are two essential groups of adversaries that our heroes find themselves confronting.  First, a large formation of over a score pikemen and spearment attacks the halflings in melee.  Second, atop the wagon and immediately around it are a half-dozen archers who pelt our heroes with missiles.  

And then Ricklin the blackguard steps out of the wagon’s covered interior.  “Kill that bitch and be done with it!” he snaps at the back of the wagon, where the guards are struggling with Naomi.  Then he strides forward purposefully, pulling forth a baleful obsidian greatsword.  He moves up to Ezeekiel, who is already pressed by the pike onslaught, and with a single mighty blow he breaks Zeke’s arm!  The freedom fighter cries out in pain.

“Hello, paladin,” gloats Ricklin.

Freeze frame for a moment.  Picture Ricklin: a brown-haired human of moderate height and weight, garbed in fancy full plate armor, with his black obsidian sword clutched in his gauntleted fists.  The blade is hateful to look upon, seeming to radiate malice from its edge and tip.  Ricklin wears a black amulet.  His armor is emblazoned with elemental symbology.  

Then we’re back in motion as Ricklin turns and hacks at Federico’s dog, nearly striking him down in a single blow!  

Federico, meanwhile, _suggests_ to one of the guards that he bring the prisoner out, and the guard turns and begins clambering into the wagon.  Then the kobold turns the attention of his crossbow on the blackguard, who just laughs when the bolts hit him for a meager amount of damage.  

Hortense, meanwhile, has healed Zeke’s arm, and the freedom fighter has turned back against the pikement.  He stands fast, stepping in and hacking left and right with his Bleak-slaying axe.  He glares at Ricklin, but too many of the pikemen are tying him down for him to return to the blackguard just yet.

The pike and spear formation is an effective one, but our heroes vastly outclass the soldiers they are facing, with the exception of the blackguard himself.  At this point, however, the guard that Federico influenced with his magic emerges from the wagon with the ugly, portly Naomi in tow. 

“What are you doing, you fool?”  Enraged, Ricklin strikes the guard down, decapitating him with a single blow and then cleaving into Naomi as well.  She grunts, stunned, and blood gushes. 

Appalled, Federico shoots Ricklin again.  Snarling, he turns to face the kobold, who quails, but Beau touches the blackguard with a _shocking grasp_ that finishes him off!  With a cry, Rickling the blackguard falls!

It’s just about mopping up after that, as the sky fills with smoke.

_*Next Time:*_ Sritivara’s on fire!  There are still more soldiers!  Who will end up running the town?


----------



## the Jester

*The Sea Witch*

The head of Ricklin is a persuasive argument when our heroes return to the mansion.  Though somewhat battered, Hortense and Federico have managed to heal the worst of the party’s wounds.  However, they are covered in blood, since they have been about a very bloody business today.  

“Look,” says Ezeekiel to the quaking guards, “we want our friend back, right now.  And then we’ll give you twenty-four hours to leave.  One of your ships survived.  Get on it and get out of here, and don’t come back.”

A few minutes later Brickneck is hauled forth, his eyes haunted.  He is not too badly mangled; the torturer had only done a little work on him, hoping to intimidate information out of him by giving him plenty of time to dread what was coming.  Still, he’s been horrifically tortured _a little,_ and Hortense immediately sets to tending the dwarf, soothing his pain.

Martini is looking to the sky, which is dark with smoke.  In the distance, flames are dancing across rooftops.  “We should go help fight the fire,” he says.  The party rushes back towards the docks and finds a huge conflagration spreading slowly into the town.  Several bucket brigades have organized and are pouring water on it as quickly as they can, and our heroes pitch in and fight the fire all afternoon.  They hear crazy stories of how a magic bear 10’ high rose from the water and shot red beams from its eyes that lit the docks on fire.  

“Wow!” exclaims Federico in mock astonishment.

Legends grow in the telling.

***

Our heroes spend the next several weeks trying to set Sritivara up so it won’t collapse into anarchy.  With the aid of the druid Monli, they begin setting up a framework for elections.  Grizliwentho and his Green Tigers help to maintain order; they seem to be switching at least somewhat from being a street gang and becoming more like an informal police force.  

Both Naomi and Brickneck bear the scars of their captivity.  Though Naomi was not tortured, her capture ruined her eye, thoroughly crushing her piggy little eye.  Fortunately (?) it is on the same side of her head as her ruined ear. 

Several of our heroes make donations to the Heather Peachtree fund that they set up.  Jawbreaker thinks deeply about the incident.  Why didn’t things work out?  She wasn’t supposed to be paralyzed, she was supposed to be stunned so that he could carry her off by the hair as his wife!  That’s how things are done, right?  He’s very confused.  He did _something_ wrong, and he feels terrible for the girl.  But- _what_ did he do wrong?

During this period, Federico befriends a halfling druid named Humphrey.  Humphrey and his dog, Bogart, soon are accompanying the kobold everywhere.  Bogart wears a collar that lets him speak.  More and more, our heroes look like a dog pack with a few halflings along for the ride.*  

Monli puts forth a candidate for interim mayor of Sritivara.  This is a half-elf who looks like you took a wild man, Tarzan-style, and stuck him in a suit.  He is constantly scratching himself, but manages to be personable enough and to seem intelligent enough to earn our heroes’ support.  Soon he is appointed interim mayor.  

The party is concerned about Dyshim’s ability to defend itself.  It has no native army.  There is barely a town watch in Sritivara.  They need to drum up some potential defenders.  Hortense has grown in power, and she has achieved the ability to issue _sendings._  Now she does, informing the other towns of Dyshim of recent events concerning the Zacradosian fleet.  A dialogue ensues with Thane Hilge Urnskurm of the Bloody Fist, a clan of warlike dwarves, which ends when Hortense agrees that Sritivara will send a group of representatives north to talk to her at her home.  And, of course, that group is our heroes.

***

_*10/5/369 O.L.G., 11:45 a.m., up the coast of Dyshim*_

An hour north of Cod, a small fishing village, our heroes first encounter trouble, in the form of some strange sea-dwelling cat-like monsters.  They are fierce and hungry for a halfling supper; but our heroes fight them off successfully.  

“I wonder if we’ll find the cave that sailor talked about,” muses Beau.  In Cod the party had spoken to a crippled ex-sailor who had told them the story of a terrible witch who had withered his legs.  According to him, no one could ever find the hag’s cave again.  But after he told his tale, our heroes noted that he had entered the cave at sunset, and Federico had recalled certain tales of magical gateways that open only at certain times.  The party has determined, since it’s on their way to the Bloody Fist, to see if they can find this cave.  They are adventurers, after all.

Indeed, when the sun sets the group is along the beach, near some landmarks the sailor had described in his tale.  As the sun slowly settles into the western waters, the clouds go magenta and then purple.  And slowly, a cave entrace becomes visible.

Our heroes enter the cave cautiously.  The witch that withered the sailor’s legs had first attempted to seduce him; and he barely escaped alive.  They will trust nothing.

Including the _fireball_ that shortly envelopes them all.  A huge, ugly woman with filthy skin pockmarked by oozing zits, her hair the color of marsh, screams laughter as the flames billow around our heroes.

Jawbreaker roars at the indignity, and suddenly his body surges forward, growing as he rushes at the witch.  He’s a bear!  He charges forward, but she clouts him across the temple with her first.  Then she grins, whispering eldritch words, and her hand begins to glow with a hazy brown light.  She swipes at Jawbreaker’s arm but misses. 

“She’s trying to wither you!” shouts Ezeekiel.  “Foul witch!”  Beaneath him, his mount springs forward, with the witch giving Zeke a clout across the head along the way, and swings his axe at the hideous hag.  She dances aside, but winces as it slices along her ribcage.  It sounds like he’s hitting steel.  His eyes widen.

“You’ll pay for that, boy!” she shrieks.  Warily, keeping her guard up, she casts another _fireball._ *Kabooom!!!*  Naomi staggers, stumbles, falls to her hands and knees, gasps and then finally collapses.

“Nooo!” shouts Federico.

Grimacing, Beau hits the hag with a _ray of enfeeblement_ while Brickneck leaps in and pounds her in the chest.  Then Zeke swings his axe in a mighty overhand blow, _smiting evil,_ and there is a crack of thunder when he connects!  The witch gives a terrified cry of pain and winces back, staggering to one knee.  Ezeekiel _smites evil_ again, and this time his axe crunches through bone and flesh, severing her head at the neck.  

The party takes her leg back to the crippled fisherman.

***

_*10/7/369 O.L.G., 5 p.m., up the coast of Dyshim*_

It’s the smell of delicious halfling cuisine cooking over the fire that draws the swarms of little lizard chickens, as our heroes come to call them.  Dozens of little sharp-toothed beasts, closing in like a huge... swarm.  Our heroes are just trying to do what halflings do, just trying to have a nice hot meal.  And all these little needle-toothed lizards have to come in and muck it up!

Slowly our heroes pick up their weapons as the little dinosaur swarms start to move in towards them.

“Uh-oh,” says Sandy.  There is a flash of teeth.

_*Next Time:*_ Who will fall in the battle of the lizard chicken swarms?



*Humphrey is, of course, Federico’s cohort- the lil guy took Leadership.  He’s a druid who is angling for the Master of Hounds prestige class (homebrewed Cydra prc).  The party just keeps getting more dogs!


----------



## Brain

Oh man, more swarms.  I've taken to calling Naomi the swarm slayer because she is pretty much the only one with area effects since Timothy.


----------



## cold1s

*Lord Sandy?!*

After the rescue, as the party went to the mansion housing Brickneck, Ezikiel and Sandy disagreed whether to storm the mansion and kill everyone inside, Sandy's idea or to try to work things out peaceably as Ezikiel would like. 

On the spur of the moment, Sandy thinks “We could bluff our way into the this place, a decent regional HQ it would make.”  Suggests the 24 hour deadline as a compromise to the above agrument. E- backs this up in parley.  

Secretly, Sandy was disappointed that they kept their end of the bargain. One of them had the most interesting teeth...

He was down-right tee'd off when the whole thing was destroyed along with most the town in the fire!

Speaking of angry, those needle toothed em-effers interrupted a perfect decent supper under the stars. 

Read on:


----------



## the Jester

In preparation for today's update, here's the party's current class/level breakdown.

Federico- kobold bard 5/sorc 2/jester (homebrewed prc) 1; CG
Martini- halfling rng 3/ftr 2/order of the bow initiate 2; CG
Ezeekiel- halfling paladin 6/freedom fighter (homebrewed prc) 3; LG
Naomi- halfling (ahem) psion 5/elementalist (homebrewed base class) 2; LE
Beau- halfling rogue 4/sorc 5; CN
Chief Jawbreaker- wild halfling barb 7/bear warrior 1; CG
Sandy- stout halfling rog 4/ftr 3; LE
Brickneck- dwarf monk 7?; LE

And the character who will be entering our group shortly, replacing our next pc casualty: 

Arthur Ontap, halfling monk 5/drunken master 2; LN


----------



## the Jester

*The Needletooth Swarms*

Each of the lizards is the size of a chicken.  Their scales glint bright green in the light of the cook fire.  Their teeth are as sharp as a lizard’s, and they move extremely quickly.  Our heroes rise and draw their weapons as the mass of tiny dinosaurs darts forward like a coud of angry bees.  Then the battle is joined.

Shouts of pain as the razor-like teeth swarm over the dogs, Brickneck, Jawbreaker, Zeke and Naomi... Sandy tumbles away, jabbing viciously and impaling one of the lizards... the bright contrast of blood with scales as Jawbreaker hews through dinosaurs.  The smell of dinner burning as a blow from Brickneck sends a cloud of tiny dinosaurs sailing through the air.  There is chaos and confusion.  Rally!  Rally, and defend your dinner!

Humphrey has not fought beside our heroes for long, but he continues to prove his worth, summoning a _flaming sphere_ that rolls through a clot of the little lizards.  Greasy smoke rises from it as Ezeekiel lays into more of them with his axe.  Most of our heroes are bleeding, with little lizards crawling on them, or hanging by their mouths until they pull little chunks of meat free.  

“Why does everything always try to eat us!” wails Sandy.  It’s a rhetorical question, but he gets an answer.

“It’s because we’re so plump and tasty!”  Naomi grins a foul grin, trying to focus her mind and unleash a _swarm of crystal,_ but she fails to maintain her concentration.  And she becomes even more distracted as the swarm rushes over her again!  With the little monsters tearing into them, our heroes find it hard to do anything other than simply pluck them out and try to brush the green little dinosaurs off of them.  Though they slay several at a time, these swarms are tough!

Then Brickneck falls, with little lizards chewing on him.  Like a swarm of pirannha, they consume him in only a few short moments, ripping the meat free from his body!  With shocking suddenness, Brickneck is dead!

Fortunately for our heroes, they have nearly as many dogs as halflings in the group.  Barking and growling, their canine friends tear lizards limb from limb.  Though themselves covered in squirming little biters, the dogs have done much good in this battle, and blood covers all of our heroes- both their own and that of the swarming monsters.  Finally, Sandy, Chief Jawbreaker and the dog pack manages to chase off the remaining lizards- but what a cost!  Glumly, they stare at their dead friend Brickneck.

“Well, at least we won’t have any more trouble with the Hot-Metal clan and their sacred marriage chain,” remarks Beau.

The party somberly buries Brickneck.  Well, it might be more accurate to say that most of them are somber; Beau doesn’t much care, and Naomi briefly wonders about dwarf meat, but after thinking about the nasty crap they eat she decides to let the opportunity to sample it pass.  After a brief moment of silence, our heroes reconstruct dinner, and before long they are in bed.  Setting watches seems wise, so they do.

***

_*10/7/369 O.L.G., 2 p.m., along the edge of the Bay of Dyshim*_

The afternoon is overcast but warm.  Still, winter is coming.  Our heroes are heading north; before them is the Bay of Dyshim.  It’s a good day to be walking. 

As they move along, they spy what appears to be an old, broken-down lighthouse about 150’ out to sea on a small rocky isle.  “Hey, look at that!” exclaims Federico.  

”I wonder if the tide is in or out right now,” muses Martini.  “It is possible that there is a way out there at low tide.”

Our heroes decide to check it out, with Humphrey _wild shaping_ into a fat, sassy sea gull and flying out to check it out.  He flies by once and sees something moving inside; after a closer look he wheels back to the party and tells them that someone is within the lighthouse. 

Our heroes wait to see if the tide will recede at all; it does, and it gradually reveals a spur of rock that appears to lead out to the isle.  However, the water does not fully uncover it.  After watching the tide wash back in and out, our heroes determine to wait until the next low tide in the morning and ford the waters.  

The next morning they do just that.  As they approach the rocky prominetory, soaked to their upper thighs, a figure bursts out of the base of the tower: a halfling, of all things.  Quelle chance!, as the elves says.  

“HEY!” shouts the newcomer, and then he reels.  It looks like he’s about to fall.  For a moment, Martini thinks he’s wounded, but then the halfling from the lighthouse lurches forward and calls out again, raising one finger.  “HEY!  Yer jussht in time!  Why don’tchoose- why don’tchoo come in f’r a dink?”

“He’s drunk,” Martini says.

“HEY!” the newcomer says again.  “Ssho?  Come have one.  I’m >urp< Arthur.  Arthur Ontap.”

“What are you doing here?” asks Federico.  The party warily follows Ontap into the lighthouse.  They find that, although it is in need of repair, Arthur Ontap’s living area is surprisingly organized.  Set up along one wall is a mass of tubing with a small fire and various things bubbling and dripping.  

“It’sh my sshtill,” Arthur slurs proudly.  It develops that he’s brewing up a very special batch of liquor from some rare local fruits.  “And it’ll be done in about an hour!”

“Well, we certainly can’t turn that down,” nods Naomi.

That evening the party and their new friend Arthur drink hard and long.  If it involves eating or drinking, halflings know how to do it right; and Arthur is set up for drinking.  Drink the party does, and perhaps party is the best word for that evening.  But eventually even the stoutest of them passes out, for none of them is a dwarf.  Not anymore.

***

Sharing a drunk is interesting.  Sometimes, it takes but a single drunk with someone to forge a strong bond.  The kind of bond that makes the drinkers hug and cry out, “I love you, man!”  The kind of bond that makes complete strangers into lifelong friends.  Whether or not this is a good thing is debatable, as those sort of drinking binges usually involve far more intoxication than judgment.  Nonetheless, that’s what we have here: our heroes throw their collective drunk arms around Arthur and cry, “We love you, man!”

So it is that Arthur Ontap joins the party.

***

_*10/9/369 O.L.G., 11 a.m., along the Bay of Dyshim*_

The lighthouse is still visible behind them.  Jawbreaker has looked pensive for the last few days.  Now he approaches Ezeekiel.

“Ezeekiel, Jawbreaker want your help.”

“What do you need, Jawbreaker?”

Chief Jawbreaker sighs unhappily.  “I make mistake.  Jawbreaker try to make Heather Peachtree into wife, but instead, hurt her bad.  Jawbreaker used to have advisor named Timothy.  He help me avoid making bad mistakes.”  He fixes Ezeekiel with his eyes.  “Ezeekiel, you be Jawbreaker’s new advisor?”

Zeke blinks.  After a moment, he nods.  “Sure... sure, Chief Jawbreaker.  I’ll be your advisor.”

”Good.  You wise.  You help me not make stupid mistakes.  You help me find wife!”

Ezeekiel tries to explain about courting a woman.  “You have to be interested in her.  You have to listen to what she says.”  Jawbreaker looks dubious, but seems willing to try it out.  He keeps thinking about Grandpa Clubswinger and Grandma Oneeye.  That’s how it has always been done, isn’t it?  He sighs.  He must listen to his advisor- that’s why he has one!

By midafternoon our heroes have moved into a heavy storm.  Water beats down on them throughout the night, though the pace of the rain slows with the dawn.  Soon the party reaches the town of Rathla.  Rathla, on the Bay of Dyshim, is well situated, with a source of plentiful fish at hand, good metals from Dhali’s Fists to the east, and excellent trade thanks to Grunder’s Pass to the northeast, which leads both to the dwarven community of the Bloody Fist and also to the town of Methwo on the northern coast of Dyshim a hundred miles away or so.  

In Rathla our heroes arrange to meet with the headman in order to plead for his town to join Sritivara in a free Dyshim.  Unfortunately, Naomi shows the halfling prophecy tattooed on her gross thigh to the headman, and he chooses that exact moment to have a major stroke.  Is it triggered by the bloated prophecy?  Perhaps.  It could have simply been his time, but- well, that’s a hell of a coincidence, innit?  Any way you look at it, our heroes are escorted quickly away so that the headman’s loyal followers may attempt to tend him.  Hortense states that, once she can pray for the proper spells, she is going to go back and attempt to heal him of any aftereffects of the stroke. 

Either way, our heroes doubt that he will be very friendly to their cause at this point.

_*Next Time:*_ Rathla’s Killer Ghost!


----------



## the Jester

_*10/10/369 O.L.G., 9 p.m., the town square, Rathla*_

Our heroes settle in.  Nobody is willing to rent them a room after their misadventure with the town’s headman, so they are consigned to the square.  Naomi consoles herself with a fistful of sausages.  All around the party are a collection of statues, a display by the famed sculptor Lelkor.  One is a beautiful piece depicting a pair of men in a boat, pulling a great fish from the sea; another shows a proud kocho, ruffled and ready to attack.  There are two abstract ones as well.

Local tales claim that a ghost sometimes emerges and kills people in the square.  Our heroes are determined to use themselves as bait and see if they can lure it out.  After all, everything seems to want to eat halflings- they are so plump and juicy!

But nothing obvious happens.  The party lays about, yawning and sleeping in shifts while keeping a close watch.  But their vigil among the five statues is unrewarded.  While they watch, several of the halflings admire the art, but nothing assaults them.  As morning creeps closer the party wakens again.

“Maybe it doesn’t eat halflings after all,” Sandy says, disappointed.

“There’s no accounting for taste,” comments Naomi.

“Stupid ghost,” growls Jawbreaker.

“HEY!” yells Arthur On-Tap.  He is already in a haze of alcohol.  “HEY!  Theresh shomething- HEY!”  He weaves over to the statues, glaring at them.  “Theresh not enough.  Or more.  Or something.”

“What?”  Beau cocks an eyebrow.  “What are you talking about?”

“The statues.  There’sh not... enough... of them.”

“The kocho, the fishermen, the two abstracts-“

“There were _three_ abstracts when I was on watch,” Sandy says suddenly.

Pause for a beat.  

“Where did it go, then?  Where’s the missing statue?” demands Beau.

“Jawbreaker track,” the Chief grunts.  His feathered headdress looks splendid on him in the early morning predawn light.  He scampers through the square to where the third abstract had been and finds weird tracks leading to a manhole cover.  

“Sewers,” Federico says apprehensively.  For a few moments our heroes debate whether to follow the tracks into the town’s sewers.  It would be stinky, and their dogs would not be able to maneuver down the hole and out again if necessary...

“Why we follow this thing?  We go to dwarves,” Jawbreaker decides.  

“Good choice, Chief Jawbreaker!” cries Federico.

Before they leave Rathla, Hortense insists on going to visit the headman, where she _restores_ him to his faculties.  He is gripped by a combination of anger, humiliation and gratitude to Hortense.  The anger and humiliation win out, and he orders the party banished from Rathla.  Unhappily they leave.  “So much for that town,” comments Beau with a shrug.

The party thus departs, heading along the road that eventually becomes Grunder’s Pass through the mountains.  They climb into the mountains by midday, and it’s early afternoon when they encounter a group of magma mephits that fly out and attack our heroes.  The little beasties are easily defeated, and soon the survivors are fleeing for their lives.  

***

_*5:30 p.m., the foot of the Bloody Fist*_

Hortense issues a _sending_ announcing the group’s arrival to Hilge, Urnskurm, the leader of the dwarves of the Bloody Fist, and receives a terse reply: _We will send a scout to meet you._

The sky is growing dark.  Our heroes set up camp and start cooking dinner.

***

_*10/12/369 O.L.G., 8 a.m.*_

The scout arrives and leads the party up the stony trail to a cave.  Into the cave the scout leads them, and through a long delving into a dwarf-cut hall.  The party is led past wondrous stonework of a quality far exceeding any they have seen before.  Arthur shares his liquor with the scout, managing to get a grim nod of respect from the dwarf for the potency of it.

Soon our heroes are brought before Hilge Urnskurm, whom they at first take for a man.  Her lush, thick beard is braided with small gems and gold wire.  She looks them over sternly.  “I did not know Sritivara was a halfling city,” she says ironically.

“Uh, it’s not,” admits Ezeekiel.

“They why would they send a halfling embassy?”  The dwarven thane shakes her head.  “What are you really here for?”

Hilge is skeptical of them.  They spend a good amount of time trying to persuade her that they are bona fide representatives of the town, and she finally agrees to at least discuss the issue with her council.  She also tells them that her dwarven forces smashed the northern prong of the Zacradosian fleet’s attack.  “They tried to lead troops against us,” she sneers.  “We smashed them against the side of the mountain.  There’s a reason it’s called the Bloody Fist.”

“Is there anything we can do to prove ourselves to you?  We are powerful adventurers,” Sandy offers.  

Hilge seems to consider the offer for a moment.  “Maybe,” she finally says.  “We will have to discuss it in council.”

Our heroes are given accomodations and allowed to wander freely.  Mostly they spend time along the Avenue of Exchange.  That is where most of the shops, craftsmen and services are.  The party finds a good selection of metal and stone goods, but not much in the way of good food.  

And, four days later, Hilge summons our heroes to ask for their help.

_*Next Time:*_ What do the dwarves need help with?  What will they do for the cause?  And why will our heroes beat up dwarven miners?


----------



## Brain

One of the main things we shopped for in the Bloody fist was barding for some of our dogs.  I remember that Martini had some Bulette hide barding made for Jawbreaker's dog Beast.  Ezeekiel also commissioned some chain barding for Bartholomew, his special mount.


----------



## the Jester

*They Delved Too Deep*

Deep within the Bloody Fist, the dwarves have mined for decades.  Iron, gold, silver; all of these have been brought forth from the bones of the mountain.  As the finished out one vein, they would follow another.  Deeper and deeper they followed the metals, digging out lower and lower levels of the mountain.  As they descended into the roots of the Bloody Fist, they built elevator rooms to allow for easy transport of ore to the smelters above, and then laster smelters on the lower levels.  Cunning dwarven craft allowed much to be taken from the mountain that other miners would have missed.

Then they delved too deep, and _something_ became aware of the dwarves.  A party of miners descended into a newly-discovered cavern and their wills were seized.  Enslaved by some terrible entity, they lured other dwarves to a similar fate; and unbeknownst to the dwarves above a terrible chain of sacrifice began, as one by one they began feeding themselves to their new master.  A small group at the edge of the master’s control served to lure others in.

Above, meanwhile, the dwarves were busy- distracted by the northern faction of the invasion fleet from Zacradose.  After a brilliant battle, the forces of the Fist smashed the Zacradosians against the edge of the mountain.  Dwarven war craft is very strong, much like their mining lore.

When finally the fact that something was terribly wrong in the mines below came to the attention of the dwarves above, they were weary and preparing for the arrival of the embassy from Sritivara.  Alliance against outsiders attempting to control the dwarves’ home seemed like a good idea to Hilge.  

And that’s about where our heroes entered the picture.

***

_*10/16/369 O.L.G., 11:30 a.m., the deep mines of the Bloody Fist*_

The marvels of the dwarven elevators, architecture and stone craft are not entirely lost on our heroes, but that’s nothing compared to how bad dwarven food is.  Once they reach the deep levels of the mountain, they almost immediately encounter the miners that are used to lure others in.  But our heroes are forewarned, and in a few battering moments, one miner is out cold and the other is a prisoner.  Though he is fairly unresponsive, Federico does manage to _suggest_ to the prisoner that he tell them all about the ‘new master’ that he mentions.

“Oh....”  The dwarf shudders, then smiles happily.  “He’s a... a mauve-skinned tentacled monster,” he says.  His face contorts in horror for an instant, then snaps back into a smile.

Federico starts to shake.  

“I wonder what that could be?” Sandy muses.

“I’ve heard a few tales,” Feddie whimpers.  “They’re called mind flayers, and they _eat your brains!!!_”

“Damn it, _everything_ wants to eat us!” exclaims Beau.  “It just isn’t right!”

“Well, that’s probably the root of the dwarven problem then,” Ezeekiel remarks.  “This thing can obviously control minds; let’s do what we can to protect against that.”  

After some discussion, Hortense lays a _magic circle against evil_ on both Jawbreaker and Ezeekiel.  She tells them, “One of you stay in the front, one in the back; that way everyone stays close enough that they’re in the spell’s radius.  As long as you are in the spell, you should be warded against direct mind control.”

Then they plunge forward.  Deep have the dwarves delved, and deep have the halflings come.  Soon, as they walk forward, they are ambushed by a pair of bizarre creatures.  To all appearances, they are brains on legs.  The little brain-dogs use mental powers to try to control our heroes, but the _magic circles_ foil them.  They prove as tough as iron when our heroes move to the attack, and then one of the brains blasts Beau and Jawbreaker with a psionic attack via _id insinuation_!  Jawbreaker begins babbling about nothing, while Beau lurches over to Humphrey and hits him with a _shocking grasp._ 

“Ow!” the druid cries, then blasts one of the brains with a _flame strike_.  It finally dies.  The other one finally falls to a perfect shot from Martini’s skilled archery.  Then it’s simply a matter of restraining the confused folks for a few moments while they come back to themselves.  

“What were those things?” wonders Sandy.

“I think they’re called _intellect devourers,_” Federico responds.  Once again, bardic knowledge proves its worth.

The party moves deeper yet.  Their mission is to recover as many of the dwarves alive as they can, and if possible destroy the entity behind it all.  Soon they have a major catch, as they find a group of thralls sent to ambush them.  One of them is a warrior of some kind, wearing armor, unlike the enthralled miners (who are dressed in doughty helmets and pads, but not actual armor).  Our heroes fight with the flat of their blades, striking to knock their foes out rather than to kill.* Federico uses _sleep_ to great effect.  Even the warrior falls easily before brave Chief Jawbreaker.

When all is said and done, our heroes have seven dwarven prisoners that they have liberated and one unfortunate corpse.  They laboriously return to the elevator with them, then head back up to the Bloody Fist’s upper levels, where Hilge is delighted at their results so far and dismayed by the news they bring.  “A mind flayer!” she exclaims.  “Damn, that’s bad news.”  She looks grim, stroking her beard in thought. 

Our heroes are tired.  They decide to rest, since they’re safe up above, and prepare to descend again on the morrow.

_*Next Time:*_ The mind flayer! 


*This was Hortense’s first chance to use one of her prestige class abilities, which lets her strike for nonlethal damage without taking a penalty.


----------



## the Jester

Plan on seeing the mind flayer's update (from its point of view, no less ) later today.

In the meantime, I just wanted to point out that I ran this game _the day before_ I got _Lords of Madness,_ or there would prolly have been some other freakish aberration-related stuff from it in here somewhere.  Shrug.  Timing sucked.  Oh well, I'm certain I'll get some good use out of it sometime.


----------



## the Jester

*The Mind Flayer*

_*10/17/369 O.L.G, 1 p.m., the deep mines of the Bloody Fist*_

_Contemplation.  Thralls taken away, and now the bright points of intellect that did it are coming again.  Minds with no power- save one.  Study it.  Study it.  Some psionic potential, but infinitesimal.  Perhaps someday... if I do not take it as my next meal.  It has been a very long time since a tangy treat like that been lovingly extracted by my tentacles.  

Pause.  A thought, sent racing through the warrens, to summon the ceremorphized primitives.  They will guard against crude physical attacks.  Surely the spots of intelligence will realize, once I have caressed their minds with my own puissance, that their true place is at my feet.  They have taken away many larger, stronger thralls already, but that one with a spark of psychic ability would be worth the loss.  It has been so long since I have eaten such a delicacy!

Ahh, I can hear the screams through my mind.  One of them is being consumed by a dungeon-dwelling slime.  Will they save him in time?  It spreads quickly; even my kind fear the touch of green slime.  But yes, one of them has done it with their slave-magic.  Begged from a vast power!  How primitive.  The recognition that all power comes from within is necessary to achieve sentience.  Primitives such as these, even the psionic one, will never truly climb that ladder.  They are too caught up in their primitive drives and emotions.  

My guard-thralls arrive.  Taken from their warrens in the places deeper still within the rock, then ceremorphized into a more pleasing and effective form, they are effective guards and useful thralls.  And they will no doubt have to prove their worth again today, for my would-be attackers are coming forward again.

Twisting through the tunnels and caves they come.  Soon they will arrive.  I move my thralls to the appropriate positions, where they will be able to prevent the primitives from reaching me.  

None of the oncoming attackers is human.  A shame; it would be ideal to be able to ceremorphize one of them.  Then there would be a second sentient being here, and together we could begin the process of growth and expansion.  For this island does have humans; they must simply be lured, and then my community can begin to grow strong.  There are plenty of tadpoles; there is room for many of us; there are plenty of primitives to provide thralls and food.  I would be first to die, and my brain would be the seed of the new community’s Elder Brain.  

With patience, all things shall come to me. 

Just as these primitives are coming.  My thralls sense them, too; and- now!

The lead one reeks of mammal sweat.  Feathers and fur adorn it.  It does not even have the think veneer of civilzation that most of these things have adopted by instinct.  I reach out to grasp its will in my mental fist, to command it to do my will.  Its face changes to a purple hue and it lets out a loud exclamation of rage.  I can feel its surprising mental strength.  Worse, overlaying it, I can feel a magical field that will prevent mind control.  Surprised, I withdraw my psionic attack.  Let the thralls deal with it.  They move in, surrounding it-

Its rage blossoms.  A thrill of pain shoots through my abstract lobe at the force of it.  The primitive suddenly _changes_.  It doubles, nearly triples in height, broadens, grows coarse fur.  It is-  a bear??  The body of an animal on the tiny bit of consciousness that was that primitive.  Interesting.  It bears vivisection.  Surely my slaves will-

The bear smashes down two of the three thralls in a single mighty blow.  

I am shocked.  My defenses are crumbling much too quickly.  This is unacceptable!  They must be stopped.  There are other primitives advancing behind the bear, burning with bright devotion to the fight against me. 

Why must these unintelligent creatures fear and hate my kind and I?  Why can they not recognize their place in the universe?  They follow their instincts and raise cattle, birds, food animals of their own; why can they not see that, above them in that same chain, are we?

It is precisely because they follow their instincts.  If they were rational, thinking beings they would understand.  But of course, if they were rational, thinking beings- they would be illithid.

I clench my mental fist, and a cone of psionic energy ripples out, washing over the attackers.  But surprisingly, they all withstand it.  Suddenly they are coming forward at me!  

No!!  I am delicate!  Stay back!!!

A blow from the bear knocks me a few feet.  Then one of them fires an arrow that lands in my thigh.  I need only a moment to escape, only a moment!  Just a moment to concentrate... I stagger away as another of the little monsters hacks at me with an axe.  No, you little primitive, stay back!  Get away from me!  Yes, that’s batter- a little distance- but- 

The whoosh of flames rushes down at me from above.  My innate ability to resist magic does not protect me this time.  It is terrible- a horrifying agony.  I can feel the slime on my body drying and cracking as I catch fire.

My dreams, my hopes... they will never be fulfilled now.  I cannot see through the flames.  I can feel my tentacles shriveling.  I am weakening.  

Oh, you primitives!  Someday you must realize you are nothing but food!

I die._


_*Next Time:*_ The party plays in a pool full of tadpoles!  Then there’s trouble at sea!


----------



## Brain

Nice update!  I liked reading about it from the Mind Flayer's point of view.


----------



## the Jester

*The Tadpole Pool*

Admittedly it's a little short, but here's another update before we start playing the high-level party today...

***

Our heroes stand over the crumpled form of the hideous, mauve-skinned monster that had seized control of the dwarven miners deep beneath the Bloody Fist.  They have overcome the threat and rescued most of the dwarven captives. 

But their job is not yet done.  

Beneath a trap door they discover a horrible pool of brine, thriving with little ochre four-tailed tadpoles.  On the shore are a pair of huddled forms, somewhere in between lizard folk and the half-mind flayer abominations that had guarded the illithid above.  They slay the slowly transforming creatures, then turn their attention to the pool.  After resting and recovering spells, Hortense lowers the water level enough that the party can slog through it, killing all the tadpoles they can.  Dozens, then hundreds, of the little things are squished, slashed or stabbed.  For hours the party works at their grim task, finally stopping when Hortense’s spell wears off.  By then they are sure that they have killed most of the tadpoles, but as the little buggers move, it’s not hard to realize that some of them might have slipped through the party’s grasp.  

Nonetheless, they adjudge that they have done all they can; and soon they are marching back up the laborious passages leading to the great elevator.  Within another hour they have reached the upper halls of the Bloody Fist, and an hour after that- having had baths, a change of clothes and a quick snack- our mighty band of halflings comes before Hilge Urnskurm.  She is more than pleased at their success and announces her intention to send an embassy back to Sritivara in order to ascertain how best the Bloody Fist can aid the cause.

***

The party is awarded medals by the dwarves.  Then the group makes their farewells.  They are still nervous about Sritivara falling apart again in their absence.  They head north to a town on the coast called Methwo, and from there they charter a boat back to Sritivara.  They keep a low profile in Methwo, as they do not wish to alienate yet another community.

***

_*10/22/369 O.L.G., 7 a.m., the *_*Sea Snake*

The merchant ship pulls smoothly away from the harbor.  The morning sun has emerged from its sleep beneath the waves in the east, continuing its revolution around faraway Forinthia.  Our heroes are safely aboard.  Sailors hustle about, hoisting this or tying that, and there is much friendly cursing.  The day is overcast but warm, and it spits drops of rain for a few moments once.  The _Sea Snake_ sails out about three miles, then turns to the west and begins following the coastline as it gradually curves towards the south.  Our heroes mostly stay below, out of the way, but Humphrey prefers to be outside, on deck if not flying about as a seagull.

Evening finally comes, and is rapidly followed by night.  The stars draw across the sky like a curtain.  Most of the crew rests, with a few men awake on watch or simply up drinking.  Several of our heroes sleep on deck.

As the ship’s lanterns are extinguished, no one has a clue as to how dangerous the night will prove.

***

_*10/23/369 O.L.G., around 4 a.m.*_

 Martini’s eyes open, from the depths of sleep.

_What was that?_

He remains where he is: on deck, against a netted-down pallet of some kind of cargo.  He opens his senses.  Something woke him, some preternatural sound...

_There it is,_ he thinks.  _It’s so faint I can barely hear it.  It’s almost like... singing._  He springs silently up and walks to the forecastle of the ship.  One man is on watch at the wheel, another in the crow’s nest.  Softly, he calls up to the man in the ‘nest.  “Do you hear that?”

But it is too faint.  Neither of the sailors hears anything at first.  But the sound slowly grows louder, and the man at the wheel finally exclaims, “He’s right- I hear it now!  Just barely, but it’s there... it’s beautiful, too.”

“Be careful- try not to get too close to it,” cautions Martini, moving to wake his companions on the deck.  He knows trouble when he comes across it.  And soon the sound is loud enough that they can all hear it plainly.  

“Maybe you should change course,” suggests Beau to the helmsman.  

”So... beautiful,” the man gasps. 

“Aw, crap,” moans Beau.

Then suddenly, there is a terrible lurch as something in the water _grabs_ the ship!  Great blue-green tentacles wrap around the vessel, and just about everyone on deck is thrown from their feet; only Martini maintains his balance.  

And then the great deadly battle of the feyipus begins.

_*Next Time:*_ Oh no, a grappling monster!  You know what that means, right?  _If there’s climbing or grappling, halflings die!_


----------



## the Jester

*Trouble At Sea*

Timbers shatter!  Wood splinters!  Water surges, sloshing into the guts of the ship!  Our soundtrack is the terrified screams of sailors laid over the background noise of the sea.  And over it all, the singing of the feyipus- an enchanting, alien sound that wraps the sailors’ minds around it like a bandage bound tight to a festering wound.


A pair of great slimy green tentacles is wrapped around the foredeck of the ship, cracking the planks.  Martini takes careful aim as his friends desperately try to scramble to their feet, and then he lets his shaft fly!  The arrow sinks fletching-deep into the feyipus’ tentacle.  The greenish flesh quivers for a moment, and the singing stops for a moment.  

Then the monster utters a terrible howl that kills several sailors.  Most of our heroes are caught by the blast as well, and the terrible cry smashes into them in a wave of loud agony.  Then Arthur On-Tap gives a despairing shout as he is plucked from the deck and dangled in mid-air by another of the tentacles!  Our heroes have begun to fight back, unlimbering axes and firing _magic missiles,_ but the monster proves somewhat resistant to both blows and magic!  Beau starts to sweat as his spells bounce off it, and Jawbreaker curses when he discovers his bow isn’t going to hurt it. 

Then he rushes forward with a howling scream.

More tentacles are smashing, grasping, taking sailors.  One wraps around Ezeekiel and jerks him into the sea.  “NO!” cries Hortense, “We have to save him!”  Humphrey blasts it with an ineffective _flame strike._

Martini fires another ranged precision shot, opting to try to inflict as much damage as possible in one shot to penetrate its ability to shrug off weapon damage.  He springs aside as a tentacle lashes out at him, but it grabs him around the leg and pulls him off the ship!  Now the monster has Arthur, Ezeekiel and Martini in its grasp.  Seemingly satisfied with its meal- or perhaps unhappy about the number of blows that have wounded it, mostly from Martini and Jawbreaker- the feyipus starts to withdraw, loosening its hold on the badly damaged _Sea Snake_.  

“Don’t let it get away!” cries Hortense.

Arthur has been squirming in the monster’s grasp for a while now.  He’s terrified- _Halfings eat octopus, not the other way around!_ he gibbers inwardly- but that actually helps him.  As it squeezes him again he vomits up a gout of the rum and fishy stew he’s been consuming on the ship and uses the added slipperiness it gives him to slip free of the feyipus’ grasp, dropping into the ocean gasping for breath.  As the monster is distracted by Arthur’s escape, Martini manages to force its tentacle to release him, as well, as he falls into the water with a splash!

Zeke is being squeezed incredibly hard.  He channels, establishing _divine vigor,_ choosing to attempt to sustain himself rather than to try to break free- something he seriously doubts he can do.  

On the deck, Federico is screaming at the sailors, “The hull’s breached!  The hull’s breached!”  He’s running around with his hands in the air in a near-panic.  The feyipus- Ezeekiel firmly grappled by its tentacle- descends into the water, which promptly turns black as the monster releases its ink.  

“No!  We have to save him!” cries Hortense.  

“I’m on it!” cries Humphrey, casting _water breathing_ on the party.  Then he turns and leaps into the water, _wild shaping_ into a dolphin as he enters the water.  

Jawbreaker dives into the dark water, but the feyipus has already jetted away.  Spluttering with anger, the barbarian begins swimming forward, strongly, hoping to spot it.  He looks left and right constantly.  Hortense has leapt into the water as well, attempting to use _detect evil_ for guidance.  Beau swims slowly out too, wondering if this isn’t the most foolish idea ever.  He is ready with a _shocking grasp,_ but there is no sign of the thing...

_What’s that light?_

That light is a _daylight_ spell cast by the druid Humphrey.  The last, final, desparate attempt to save Ezeekiel begins, but the thing is deep and Humphrey can’t get quite close enough.  The feyipus is interested only in going away and having dinner, and Humphrey can’t really blame it.  By the time the distance is short enough to see Zeke’s head, he is not moving or breathing.

Heart heavy, Humphrey returns to the surface and to the ship.  Federico has organized ropes and helped Martini get back aboard, and Arthur has already quaffed a _potion of fly_ and returned to the ship as well.  Several sailors are dead, and Humphrey returns empty handed.

Hortense bursts into tears.  She wails, “I wanted to have his baby!”

***

_*10/23/269 O.L.G., 1 p.m.*_

The _Sea Snake_ limps to the nearest natural harbor and the ship puts a large crew ashore to gather enough material to effect repairs.  Hortense stays on board, unable to stop weeping.  The others try to comfort her to no avail; she is heartbroken.  It seems that a strong secret fire had burned in her breast for Ezeekiel all along.  Now her heartfire has gone out, at least for the moment, and all she can do is cry.

The repairs take most of the afternoon; though the _Sea Snake_ needs a significant amount of work to be in good shape again, she is at least seaworthy now.  And so the vessel sails on through the night, finally reaching Sritivara at noon of the next day.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes stumble into a chance at one of their collective long-term goals- a halfling war wagon!


----------



## Brain

Seems like the story hour is almost caught up.  Nice work!

Hortense was well prepared for battle at sea, but Ezeekiel was too concerned with others and stepping forward to fight the beast.  Thus he didn't get what would have been a life-saving _Freedom of Movement_.  Instead, it went to Chief Jawbreaker.


----------



## the Jester

*Return to Sritivara*

_*10/24/369 O.L.G, 12:20 p.m., Sritivara*_

Hortense is inconsolable.  The loss of Ezeekiel has left her a wreck.  When the party puts ashore, she tells them she has to leave.  “I... need some time by myself,” she sobs.  In her eyes, the words she won’t say are emblazoned: _he’s gone!_

Sadly, our heroes watch her go.  They ache for her, and all of them feel the loss of their friend.  “I’m going to get his name tattooed on my arm of dead buddies,” Sandy vows, rubbing the names already tattooed there by Naomi: Dogtooth.  Ethel.  Grulka.

While the others secure lodging, Naomi and Federico go to visit the new mayor of Sritivara, the civilized savage half-elf Rhudiveldan.  He is pleased by their report, and he is saddened to hear of the demise of Ezeekiel.  “Ezeekiel Dandybanter was well-known as a staunch member of the resistance.  I understand that without his help- without _all of your_ help- the Zacradosian occupiers might have taken over.  We will not forget him.”

“Indeed, I hope not!” exclaims Federico.  “In fact, I _suggest_ that you memorialize him by renaming the town after him!”

“It’s brilliant!” Naomi crows.  “Think of it!  The people know he was a hero.”  She adds her own _psionic suggestion_ to reinforce the kobold’s.

“Yes- yes, I like it,” the mayor breathes.  “It _is_ brilliant.”

The meeting goes on for a few more minutes, during which time the mayor asks our heroes to keep an eye out at a rally the next day.  “I just want to make sure there’s no trouble there,” he says fervently.

***

_*10/25/369 O.L.G., 8 a.m.*_

A gull flaps lazily into the sky, then beats its wings industriously until the house it is seeking comes into view.  Smoke is curling out of the chimney, indicating the owner is at home.  Good.  He lands on the sill and squawks.  

Monli the druid walks over to him.  He studies the gull for a moment; then he casts _speak with animals._  “Good morning,” he says with a smile.

“Good morning.  It’s Humphrey.”

”Ah, you’re back in town.  Good!  You should bring your friends to me, and we’ll confer.  I might even have something you’d be interested in doing for you.  How did things go?”

Humphrey summarizes briefly the key contacts the party made further north on Dyshim, then flaps away to get the others.  After they finish breakfast, the party heads cheerfully through the streets.  As they walk, there is a chipper spring in their collective step.  This time, when they left Sritivara, it held together.  Nobody came to conquer it; no major troubles happened. 

Of course, there is the issue of the damage caused by what has become known as the Bear’s Fire.  The stories vary, but in general they go something like this: a great creature, half-bear and half-shark, rose from the water on a column of water.  It breathed a great gout of flames and shot magical beams from its eyes, igniting the docks, and then the monster went on a rampage through the streets, killing natives and invaders alike.  When they hear bits of that story, our heroes are rather amused, for reasons they keep to themselves.  

Soon they reach Monli’s house, where they catch up with the druid, giving him a complete report on their activities, including the death of Ezeekiel.  This sad news causes the druid to sigh and shake his head.  “We may have had our differences,” Monli states, “but he had the good of the people in mind.  He was a good halfling.”

Our heroes have a moment of sad silence, thinking of their dead.  From Coco to Brother He, from Mama to Dogtooth... they have lost many of their loved ones.  

“Speaking of halflings,” Monli the druid continues, “I have someone here you may be interested in meeting.”

_*Next Time:*_ Meet Brain’s new pc!


----------



## hippiejedi2

When Ziek died Beau became the bearer of the Halfling Prophecy.

Upon arrival, back in Stritivara, Beau tried to convince Hortense to stick around with the party for a little while.  However; the loss of Ziek was too much for Hortense and despite Beau's attempt at diplomacy Hortense left the party.

When Federico and Naomi went to the Druid, Beau and Arthur went to the Halfling district to break the bad news (about Ziek's death) to the Halflings.  In the Halfling District, Beau and Arthur entered an inn for a meal, drink, and likely another snack. The patrons recognized Beau as one within the group that was responsible for Heather Peachtree's paralysis and were in the process of kicking us out. Instead Beau bought a round for the local patrons, and casually mentioned adventering with Ziek, but that Ziek's adventuring days were over, and proceeded to tell the tale of Ziek's demise. Meanwhile Arthur made sure that the rounds kept on coming to the patrons and summarily decided to match drinks with everyone at the inn. Beau shifted from Ziek's death to Peachtree's condition and then made a generous dontation to the Heather Peachtree fund.  Beau asked everyone to bow their heads and for a moment of silence for the fallen Halflings, some of the patrons went as far as to give up a meal.  Next, Beau spoke of the impending Zachrodosian invasion warning the Halflings to prepare.  Finally, Beau read the Halfling Prophecy and guaranteed that the good Halflings of Stritivara would be included.  The patrons attitude to Beau and the group seemed to shift a little. Arthur made some new friends and got smashed real good.


----------



## the Jester

*The War Wagon*

Lundy Goodwheel introduces herself to our heroes.  She is dressed in practical traveling clothes, without sign of armor or heavy weapons. 

“Lundy here has a problem that you might be able to help her with, as you are halflings.”  Monli the druid smiles slightly.  

Lundy nods.  She explains, “I’m something of a carpenter.  I like to build things, and I’m quite good at it. Although this time my talents have been misused!”

“What do you mean?” asks Federico.

Lundy explains her problem to the party.  She was commissioned to build a halfling war wagon.  Our heroes perk up at that: they have long batted around the concept of getting a war wagon as their mobile fortress.* Sandy and Federico grin at each other.  And here is someone who can build one!

Unfortunately, Lundy built the wagon only to have the rapscallions who commissioned it steal it away from her!  

“How could they do this so easily?” wonders Federico.  

Lundy hotly retorts, “They were halflings.  _I trusted them._”

“Well, I hope you know better than to do that again!” exclaims Beau.

***

The afternoon is busy.  Our heroes have decided that they must move on to Zacradose, to prevent further attacks on Dyshim; and so while the others guard the mayor’s rally, Jawbreaker begins making inquiries into passage.  When the rally finishes, in the late afternoon, our heroes assemble, join up with Lundy and begin tracking the wagon.  At first the ruts are easy to follow; even without a tracker the party could follow them.  But as twilight deepens towards full dark, our heroes stop to make camp not far from the edge of the jungle.  The tracks appear to lead inside Sriti’s Jungle.

At the edge of the jungle, as the party begins to set up tents, Lundy offers, “I can make a much better shelter for us a lot more easily.”  When they ask what she means, she speaks magic syllabuls in a loud voice, drawing her hands through various arcane forms; and then a _Leomund’s secure shelter_ appears.  

“Wow!” exclaims Federico.  “That’s neat!”

Despite the shelter, our heroes remain wary.  Through the night, our heroes keep a careful watch.  The strange sounds emanating from the nearby foliage keep the watchers ever alert; our heroes have been in the jungle before.  They know just how dangerous it can be.  Anything could spring out an attempt to gain the key ingredient for a halfling sandwich at any moment. 

But nothing does, at least over the course of the night, and our heroes move on after some shennanigans involving Naomi’s big mean dog Butcher and Humphrey the druid (who uses _calm animals_ to settle Butcher long enough to put Bogart’s _collar of gift of speech_ onto him).  Butcher’s position on two-legs becomes clear; it is obvious that the dog become so mean through heavy abuse.  Humphrey’s heart aches for the poor animal, and our heroes vow to do their best to win Butcher over.

The tracks are harder to follow here, but Jawbreaker keeps the party on track.  The track leads through jungle areas wide enough to accomodate the wagon, so for now there is not much in the way of choking vegetation.  There are plenty of bugs, and no one could possibly complain about the lack of humidity, however. 

It soons become clear that our heroes are catching up.  As the terrain becomes somewhat more difficult for the halflings, it must have become considerably more difficult for the wagon.  The party passes first one campsite, then another, where Jawbreaker indicates that the wagon must have camped.

“We’re catching up,” Lundy says with satisfaction.  

“How long ago was it stolen?” asks Federico.

Lundy replies, “About three days ago.”

“Then we must be getting close!”

The party keeps on moving, and suddenly they catch sight of some movement in the brush.  A slithering set of scales... men and women, with slightly scaled skin behind them.

“Serpent folk suck!” Federico begins japing. Arthur whips a shot of liquor from his bandolier, wobbling on his feet already.  Jawbreaker rushes forward with his axe overhead while Sandy starts laying down covering fire.  Beau darts forward and kills the giant snake with a _shocking grasp_ while Naomi initiates her _energy retort_.

The serpent-folk cry out under the sudden, unexpected assault.  Two great lizards are in the brush, as well as a half-dozen of the snake folk.  They immediately begin attempting to repel the halfling attack, using _fear_ to try to drive some of our heroes off, trying to _dominate_ the drunken Arthur.  However, our heroes are fighting as a unit; their minds are aligned strongly together.  They all throw off the initial mental assaults, and the Halfling Action Militia, or H.A.M. (as they are now calling themselves) begins to overwhelm the snake folk.  The massive crowd of dogs (Butcher, Bogart, Portnoy, Rider and Hauler) tears into the serpent-folk.  Though they fight back roughly, and one of them breaks Jawbreaker’s jaw (oh, the irony!), the snake folk are cut to pieces.  

Panting, our heroes reflect for a moment.  It’s as is they’re having an unspoken debate.

“They’re traveling slow,” points out Naomi.

“You right.”  Jawbreaker nods.  “We have time.  We stop to harvest snake.”

_*Next Time:*_ The pursuit continues!


*In truth, the discussion started the very first session of the halfling party.


----------



## hippiejedi2

Beau had come across some unique scrolls which he tried to trade with Lundi, but she did not have much to trade for. Since she is good at crafting they agreed to business in the future.


Also in Leomund's shelter Lundi went straight to bed and Beau followed her only to get shot down.


----------



## Brain

Another example of the many spellings of names based on verbal cues. I spell it Lundey, for the record.


----------



## the Jester

Brain said:
			
		

> Another example of the many spellings of names based on verbal cues. I spell it Lundey, for the record.




   Well, that's the native halfling spelling, but the story hour is written in Forinthian.

It's like John vs. Jean (English/French).


----------



## the Jester

For the record, our heroes are currently:

Phenyl "Sandy" Sandybanks, rogue 4/fighter 4; LE
Federico, kobold bard 6/sorc 2/jester 1; CG
Lundey Goodwheel, wizard 8; N
Beau, rogue 4/sorc 5; CN
Chief Jawbreaker, barb 7/bear warrior 1; CG
Martini Hempflower, ranger 3/ftr 3/order of the bow initiate 2; CG
Arthur On-Tap, monk 5/drunken master 2; CN
Naomi, psion 5/elementalist 2; LE


----------



## the Jester

*The War Wagon (pt. II)*

The giant snake killed by Beau’s _shocking grasp_ yields a considerable amount of meat for our heroes.  Into Chief Jawbreaker’s _sack of supplies_ it goes, shrinking to easily-carried size.  The skin is an impressive trophy, too; the snake was easily 15’ long.  The corpses of the snake people yield up a few magic items- a wand, two potions and a scimitar.  One of the snake folk also wore a necklack of gold set with emeralds.  Sandy whistles as he examines it, impressed by its apparent value.  “This thing is probably worth about _ten thousand gold pieces,_” he says in wonder.  There are also three greenish stones in a pouch on one of them- malachites, according to Lundey.

As the party prepares to move on, Jawbreaker examines the tracks again.  “Wagon is pulled by giant lizards, like those,” he announces, gesturing at the corpses of the two giant lizards that had accompanied the snake-folk in their attack on our heroes.  “Let’s go.”

He leads the way through the warm jungle.  Sweat trickles down our heroes’ brows and backs as they move along, following the ruts of the wagon wheels.  A light misting of rain falls for about five minutes, then stops.  The undergrowth gets thicker, and according to Jawbreaker, the wagon looks like it was having considerable difficulty moving along by this point.  

Indeed, it is not long before the party finds the wagon at last. 

It is half covered in a careless screen of brush.  One of the wheels has nearly popped off.  It is scuffed and scratched, and several boards are marred or bent.  Overall, it is in pretty bad shape.  It is along the edge of a lake, with a large hump of rock and dirt shoved up against it.  In the side of this, Jawbreaker indicates a cave.

“The lair of the serpent-folk?” wonders Arthur.  He belches. 

“Those guys are tough,” murmurs Beau.  “Let’s just grab the war wagon and leave.”

“There’s just one problem,” Lundey points out.  “We need something to haul the wagon.”

Federico suggests, “Maybe we can find more of those lizards.”

Jawbreaker grins and pulls out his magic sword.  He walks towards the cave.  Sandy groans, “More snake folk,” and follows behind the Chief.  The others fall in as well.  

The cave curves around on itself almost immediately, and our heroes follow the path of the cave until it widens into a 20’ broad passage.  At the far end, Jawbreaker can just glimpse a group of a group of serpent folk crouched behind a low barrier.  He laughs and charges, his face lit with joy, twigs falling from his beard.  His expression changes abruptly as the floor beneath him gives way and he falls out of view into a pit with a yell.  Then he gives another great scream of shock as he hits the bottom, and a great slithering hissing sound rises up as well.

The pit is full of snakes.

Meanwhile, a _fireball_ explodes around the rest of the group, burning and charring all of them, even the evasive Beau!  A chorus of halfling screams is followed by a hail of arrows from the serpent-folk.  Arthur takes a glancing blow across the head and drops, knocked unconscious.*

Lundey _hastes_ the group, excepting only Jawbreaker, who is in the pit, busily being bitten by a swarm of vipers.  Federico rushes forward to the edge of the pit and casts _sleep_ on the vipers, then throws himself flat to avoid the arrows whizzing past.  Jawbreaker is now able to begin climbing out of the pit, which he does as quickly as he can, scrambling up the smooth dirt sides of the trap by digging little holes with his powerful fingers and his booted feet. 

Humphrey heals Beau even as he casts _mirror image_, but it doesn’t help him against the enemy spellcaster, who casts the terrible spell _bonebreak_ at Beau.  The sorcerer screams in pain as the bones of his face crack and break!  He staggers, his head blazing with agony.

Sandy, meanwhile, drinks a _potion of cure serious wounds_ just in time to be caught in a _web_ that effectively captures everyone except Naomi, who has been moving forward, and Jawbreaker, who has to climb into the _web_ to get out of the pit.  

Lundey, though entangled by the _web_, has a card up her sleeve yet.  She casts _blink_ and begins circumventing the _web_ by _blinking_ through it.  

Naomi moves cautiously towards the barrier and the archer snake folk, but another arrow hits her in the chest, disabling her.  She slumps against the cave wall, coughing blood, and works it free; then in a daze, she digs one of the potions the party just got, hoping it will help.  She’s in luck; it heals her enough for her to keep going.  Better yet, she is just out of the area of the _fireball_ that Lundey casts into the midst of the enemies, fighting fire with fire, so to speak.  The barrier the archers are firing behind catches fire, making the lighting a little better.  The villains start to fall back.  

Humphrey, meanwhile, has turned to _call lightning_ as a way to express his distaste for these snake folk.  Bolt after bolt has blasted into the enemy archers.  A globe of _darkness_ descends around the characters trapped in the _web_.  With the coming of the _darkness_, he can no longer see the enemy; so he instead casts _bull’s strength_ on Sandy, who is right next to him.  

Jawbreaker surges through the _web,_ tearing his way with brute force.  He bellows out a tremendous roar as he finally gets out of the darkened area and the _web_ and begins rushing forward at the foes he knows are waiting for his tender affections.

Naomi, now on the other side, finds a trio of half-serpent, half-human guards.  Behind them is what appears to be some kind of dam, with supports propping it up.  On the other wall near it is a sturdy-looking stone door.

As Naomi comes out of the darkness, one of the serpent-men, grinning, smashing one of the dam’s supports away.  She drops him with a _recall agony,_ but it’s too late.  Water starts gushing into the place.

“Flooding!” cries Lundey, suddenly all too aware of her danger.  

Laughing, the other two serpent folk rush through the stone door. 

_*Next Time:*_ Will the serpent folk have time to seal the party’s exit?  Will the party survive this deadly trap?  And who will go to sleep??

Also- if I post the next update before our next session, this story hour will actually be caught up to the game!


----------



## Brain

the Jester said:
			
		

> Also- if I post the next update before our next session, this story hour will actually be caught up to the game!




Do it.


----------



## the Jester

*A Bad Situation Gets Better, Then Much Much Worse*

Desperately, Lundey casts a _mending_ spell to try to stave off the burst of the small dyke in the back of the cave; then she _blinks_ through the door.  She finds herself on a rising stairway, with the two snake-folk above her.  They whip out scimitars and start slashing at her.  She squeals in fear, _blinking_ in and out, and her spell saves her from a terrible wound.  She tries to _shatter_ the door, and it shivers with the force of her spell, but it survives.  With a gulp, she ducks another blow and casts a spell of _enervation_ at the spellcaster, who gasps and glares angrily at her as he feels the negative energy ripple through him.    

Behind her, Lundey hears a crashing against the door.  Her allies are coming!  Then there’s a loud roar as Chief Jawbreaker smashes through the door in bear from, knocking it completely down.  The flood has rushed past outside, though water is still ankle deep.  Taking heart from the fact that she has someone else at her side, Lundey fights on.  

Outside, in the hallway, Naomi peers through the ruined doorway and hits the enemy spellcaster with a _recall agony._  She glances to the left, at the back of the cave; the dyke is going to burst at any-

With a loud roar, it gives way, and water floods into the cave, flushing her back into the _web_.  Several of the others are still caught in them as well, and the rush of water pushes them about as it tears the webbing.

On the stairway, Jawbreaker and Lundey fight their way forward and up, the bear warrior finishing off both of his enemies with massive swats.  The two snake-folk are knocked to the ground and die as Jawbreaker tramples over both of them.  

Below, the rushing water receeds.  Jawbreaker gives a great roar and rumbles, then turns back into a halfling.  The party assembles at the base of the stairway, except for Lundey, who remains at the top, where a small landing ends in a door.  “While I’ve got my _blink_ up, I’m going to check this door,” she calls, and _blinks_ through to the other side.

On the other side, she finds a room dominated by some kind of huge carved snake head.  She doesn’t have time to notice anything else.  “Go to sleep,” a hissing voice _suggests_ from the side of the room.  Lundey collapses like a rag doll.

Meanwhile, the others take stock of their resources.  They aren’t in very good shape; the snake-folk did significant damage in their assault. They elect to go make camp.  Sandy and Beau wait for Lundey in the hallway below the stairs while the others retreat.  Sandy pulls out his _wand of cure moderate wounds_ and proceeds to try to ‘trick’ it into working for him, struggling with it for a few moments before getting it to work.  He taps it on Beau, and though some of the worst of his wounds start to close, poor Beau’s face is still broken, however, and he’s in considerable pain.  His head throbs.

“Hey,” says Beau painfully, “do you hear that?”

Sandy cocks his head.  From the direction of the top of the stairs, there comes a sound- almost like chanting.  Nervously, he keeps at the wand until he finally manages to heal both himself and Beau several times.  Then the two of them creep up the steps to the door.  

“It’s not locked,” whispers Beau.  He pulls out his sword; Sandy pulls his spear, staying several steps below.  His dog, Rider, he keeps in front of him.

Beau hurls open the door and gives a choked, horrified gasp.  Sandy can’t see into the room from his perspective, but he hears a laughing hiss, and then, suddenly, Beau shrinks and changes, turning into a wee little garter snake.

_Oh no,_ Sandy thinks desperately, and tumbles back down the stairs.  Rider starts barking viciously and charges forward as a human-looking snake-man dressed in loose monk’s robes leaps to the attack.  There is a brief melee, and then, even as Sandy is retreating down the steps, a large snake with a pair of muscular, burly arms slithers forward into view at the top of the stairs.  In its hands it holds a clay jug.  It hisses at the dog and the animal whines in _fear_ and runs hurriedly out of the cave.  Then the snake turns its yellow gaze on Sandy.

“There’s no need to fight.  Come have a drink with us,” the snake _suggests._

“I sure could use a drink about now,” Sandy admits.  Warily, he lowers his spear and walks up to the armed serpent, who gloatingly hands him the jug.  Glancing within it, Sandy grimaces.  There is some sort of viscous, yellow fluid with streaks of red in it.  It smells awful.  “No offense,” Sandy says, “but I’ve got something a little nicer.”  He pulls out a bottle of fine wine and takes a big drink, then hands it over to the snake-thing.

“Ah, I see,” the snake murmurs, taking the wine.  It leads Sandy into the room at the end.  As they walk in, the more human-looking serpent man grasps Beau’s new tiny form and picks the snake up, wearing him like a necklace.

Sandy gasps with horror.  At the far end of the oval chamber, dominating the scene, a huge carved serpent’s head gaps open.  Blood is all over Lundey, who lies pale in its mouth.

“Drink the fluid in the jug,” the abomination _suggests_ again, and Sandy takes a long, thick pull from the jug.

_*Next Time:*_ ...uh oh.


----------



## hippiejedi2

In the twice removed uppdate, the _bonebreaking_ left Beau with a broken face and negative hp. The flood knocked Beau to the exclusive -9 club before he was cured by Humphrey. 

In the previous update, Beau fumbled his initiative, and rolled almost as poorly on the 2 saves that led to his polymorphing into a snake. Sandy's initiative was not much better than Beau's init. The game was notorius for its super high number of fumbles, by everyone.


----------



## weiknarf

Has anyone ever rolled a 47 on their fumble severity?


----------



## the Jester

weiknarf said:
			
		

> Has anyone ever rolled a 47 on their fumble severity?





No, it's really unlikely... _but_ last night we had our first fumbles with severity >1d20.    

Yes, in fact, last night was fumble-rific.  For _everyone._


----------



## omrob

*ShennanigANZ!*

When we first found the war wagon and found the Yuan Ti tracks that led to the cave we knew it was gonna be a total trap...

We kept trying to think of a plan to lure them out of their cave so we could take  them a lot easier...

Chief Jawbreaker came up with an excellent idea (or so Federico thought)...

He said he would take some of the lizrd/snake blood and rub it all over himself and call out like he was a wounded halfiling and gimp around the front of the cave...

Of course Federico suggested he execute his plan, and of course JB failed his will save...

After a good long performance in front of the cave, he moved inside and continued, and then came across the pit, iirc.

That was some fun *ss stuff - JB's player is an excellent old skewl Role Player, and he always makes us laugh it up when he's carrying this stuff out...

Also Humphrey was guest played by a visitor I believe...


----------



## Brain

Yeah, Chief Jawbreaker is awesome, as well as Federico.

hey teh Jester: so close to being completely caught up, only part of one game untold on this thread.  way to go mang.


----------



## the Jester

Brain said:
			
		

> hey teh Jester: so close to being completely caught up, only part of one game untold on this thread.  way to go mang.




In total, between both SH's, I'm less than four games behind. 

Compare this to a month and a half ago- I was in the neighborhood of 12-18 games behind.  Not too bad!


----------



## the Jester

*Meanwhile, in the Underdark...*

_*10/28/369 O.L.G., Noon, the Underdark beneath Dyshim*_

The chill breeze has accompanied Aristoclese, Nara and Erazmuz for miles.  The small boat they are in sides quickly along, carried by the current.  Aristoclese, as the only one without darkvision, sits in the middle of the boat; Erazmuz mains the tiller while Nara keeps a wary eye out for their quarry.

It has been a long chase, Aristoclese muses to himself.  He and his adventuring party had been hired to retrieve a family heirloom, and their chase had led them deep into the bowels of the earth.  But now he’s the last member of the group left alive.  The ring he had been hired to retrieve had been stolen by a doppelganger named Rimmer, who has changed his role from hunted to hunter and back again on several occasions.  When the party and the doppelganger’s forces met in the deep halfling city, Aristoclese’s party had been cut to ribbons, and only the timely intervention of a pair of the deep halflings managed to save Aristoclese himself.  Ari himself is a male, small even for a halfling, skinny even. A mop of shaggy black hair shows under his patchwork leather wide-brimmed hat.  He wears hide armor and skins, which are also patchwork. The effect is a kind of regulated chaos such as tree roots or a river bed.  He carries a spear, but mostly as a walking stick.  His mount/companion is a boar named "Greased Lightening", or "Greaser".  It takes all the strength Ari can muster to strap up the exotic riding saddle.  He eats a bowl of cooked grains with bits of meat and veggies for each of his three meals, augmented by truffles dug up by Greaser. He sometimes munches on halfling-style trail mix of nuts, roots and dried fruits.  He is friendly and good natured with a rustic accent, but has no problem
unleashing the power of nature upon them as needs it.

The other two, Erazmuz and Nara, were proving themselves formidable companions.  Erazmuz seemed very versatile; he was even able to perform minor acts of healing, though he claimed to sneer at gods.  Nara was a prophet, and she was full of healing.  And of course, all three of them shared halfling blood.  

Erasmuz is a deep halfling, so he is even shorter than most of the halflings (2'2" 35 lbs.) His clothing can be described as both refined and rugged. He looks like he is an experienced explorer – he has everything put away precisely in his packs so that he can find it quickly. He shaves his head daily, excepting a black goatee that he trims meticulously. He is on the older side, nearly middle-aged for a halfling, and he has some creepy habits, like standing too close to other people and unsolicited physical contact. When traveling, he rides along on a lizard.  Nara, like Erazmuz, is a Deep Halfling. Nara is 2'4 1/4" weighing in at 38.46lbs. Nara is fair skinned bordering on pale, has sky blue eyes (though she does not, at this point, even know what the sky is, much less its color), and has big spiky silver hair. Nara's attire, while not fancy or extravagant, suggests that this is someone that should be followed because she is a leader even if she dresses somewhat provocatively.

The loss of halfling life inflicted by the doppelganger’s attacks- for it turned out to be a powerful wizard with a penchant for _lightning bolts_- so infuriated the two that they joined Ari in his hunt for vengeance (and the ring).  They have been just a step behind their target for days.  Now his boat comes into view, pulled up onto a narrow underground shore.

Our heroes put ashore as well.  Carefully, they leave the boats and advance up the beach, to where they can see a cave entrance.  His throat thick, his heart pounding with grief for his friends, Ari follows behind Erazmuz as he leads the way in.

Almost immediately the passage splits.  Our heroes move to the left, caution slowing them down a little.  As they move forward, there is a skittering sound and a bunch of giant beetles rush out, intending to feast on the party’s flesh.  Erazmuz squawks like a frightened chicken as the beetles scuttle up on him and one bites a chunk of his leg out!

“Hey, buddy, that’s not cool!” Erazmuz exclaims, and manifests _force screen_.  Then, reluctantly, he stands his ground, pulling out his rapier.  In response, the beetle sprays him with an acrid, wet vapor that burns his flesh.  Ari is busy summoning, and as soon as his dire ape appears, it rips into one of the beetles with deadly force.  He immediately follows this up by starting another summons.  Meanwhile, his boar (which the others keep having trouble not calling ‘Bacon’) gores and slays one, and in moments it is done, as Nara pounds the last one with her morningstar.  

Examining the split in the passage, our heroes find that the left branch leads to a dead-end chamber with a raised portcullis leading into it.  It appears that the beetles live in the chamber and the portcullis was raised, presumably by the halflings’ prey, to release the bugs and slow the party down.

The right-hand passage is blocked off by a portcullis.  A lever in the wall beyond it tantalizes our heroes; one can only assume that it controls the mechanism blocking them from following Rimmer.  The halflings, small as they are, cannot move past the portcullis without raising the lever.  

Erazmus uses a wand he has to summon forth a dwarven bard on the other side of the portcullis, and then asks him to raise the lever.  After some negotiation- for the wand compels the bard only to listen to the tales of the summoner- the dwarf complies, and with the sound of hidden chains groaning, the barrier rises, allowing our heroes passage.

Hurrying forward, the halflings spill into a room where they see Rimmer the doppelganger and his bodyguard of four bugbears!  Instantly battle is joined- as close as they are to victory, our heroes will brook no delay!  Though Rimmer opens up with a _lightning bolt,_ Nara has already warded our heroes against electricity, and the blast does little to them.  Then, immediately, she manages to blind Rimmer with a spell, and the doppelganger gasps and starts to retreat, stumbling up a stairway to the back of the chamber.  The bugbears fall quickly to the summoned beasts of Nara and Ari while Erazmuz wards himself with a _sanctuary_ spell ripped from the bosom of the gods and sets off in pursuit of the doppelganger.  In less than a minute, the little ur-priest has pounced, and soon their enemy lies dead at the party’s feet. 

The ring that Ari has been pursuing for so many weeks is in his hands at last!  Grinning, he turns to his friends.  “Let’s check out the rest of this place and then go back to my patron to get paid.”

“That’s in the upper world, isn’t it?” asks Nara.

“Yep.”  

“I’ve never seen it before,” she says nervously.

“Hey, relax, buddy, put your feet up!” exhorts Erazmuz.  “It’s worth a trip up there, we’ll get _paid!_”

The doppelganger’s escape route turns out to end on a shelf on the edge of a chasm.  Light filters down faintly from above, and a narrow trail leads upwards for several hundred feet.  Looking up, Ari grins.  “That looks like it leads to the surface to me!” he exclaims.  “We can avoid a good week of traveling back and then through the kuo-toan caverns if we just go up here.”

The three halflings ascend and find themselves in a thick jungle.  Neither Nara nor Erazmuz have ever even _heard_ of such a thing before; though they have seen fungus forests, the bright greens and vivid browns of the jungle are new and exotic to them.  Moisture drips from the canopy, and the smells are rich and mysterious.  Our heroes make camp and rest, more than glad to have a chance to rest after their long climb.

***

_*10/29/369 O.L.G., 830 a.m., Sriti’s Jungle*_

Arthur On-Tap stumbles through the bushes, seeking a good place to void his bladder.  His head pounds.  He could really use a drink to take the edge off, but he seems to have misplaced his camp.  He is a little concerned about that, but more concerned by the lack of contact from Sandy, Beau and Lundey.

_Splash!_  Hey, he’s found a creek.  Sighing gratefully, he answer’s nature’s call, then glances downstream.

Halflings?

He shakes his head and rubs his eyes to be sure.  Yes, those are halflings, all right, just stirring from a night’s sleep.  Three of them, in fact. 

“HEY!” he calls, staggering and waving to them.  

From within one of the bedrolls, a bleary-eyed, shaven-headed face pops out.  “What’s up, buddy?” it calls in a high-pitched voice.

“You’re halflings!” exclaims Arthur, stating the obvious with aplomb.

“Yeah?  So are you,” replies the bald little fellow.

Soon the three have introduced themselves, and Arthur follows suit, suspiciously refraining from offering to share his remaining liquor at this point.  He explains that he has a group of more halflings around here somewhere, he’s just lost them for the moment.    The deep halflings have some interest in meeting more of their surface kin, and Ari is all too aware of the potential dangers of the jungle.  “Safety in numbers” seems a good philosophy to adopt, so they follow Arthur as he staggers around trying to find his friends.

Soon the four of them emerge into a clearing.  Not far away, Arthur spots the serpent folks’ cave.  He frowns.

”Hey, hold on a second,” he slurs.  “Maybe you can help me with something....”


_*Next Time:*_ Arthur and the underworld halflings make a desperate rescue attempt!


----------



## the Jester

Arthur lays out the situation for Nara, Aristoclese and Erazmuz.  He explains that his friends had assaulted a group of serpent-folk within the cave, and after the fight several had stayed behind.  “The wizard had gone through a door and they were waiting for her to” –he belches- “come back out.  But none of them have come out yet!”  Arthur pleads with them for his aid.

Of course, Nara, Erazmuz and Ari aren’t about to leave some of their halfling brethren in danger.  The four of them advance to the mouth of the cave of death (as Arthur is now thinking of it as he stumbles forward).* The ground is muddy from the flood the afternoon before.  They advance through it until they reach the smashed in door at the end of the cave.  With growing trepidation, Arthur mounts the stairs and the four of them end at the door behind which Lundey had _blinked._

Taking a deep breath, Arthur opens the door. 

***

_*The party’s campsite*_

As Naomi cooks breakfast, Martini starts to become concerned at the absence of Arthur.  Nobody has seen him in almost an hour.  After the group feasts on steaming sausages- _Naomi may be a hideous bitch, but she can cook,_ Martini admits to himself- the ranger sighs and starts tracking their drunken friend.  As he follows the impressions Arthur left in the ground, Martini also worries over his other missing friends.

Arthur’s tracks wander fairly wildly and for some distance before ending at a small creek that trickles along through the jungle.  Across the creek Martini finds the remains of a campsite- _three small humanoids, one halfling sized and two gnome-sized,_ thinks Martini.  _Arthur emerged from the creek here and met them, then they went off together.  What were you thinking, Arthur?  Who were they?_  Martini draws his bow and nocks an arrow.  The tracks lead him in a staggeringly irregular direction; it seems Arthur must have been in the lead.  They gradually curve around, until- 

“Oh, Arthur, you fool,” murmurs Martini to himself.  

The trail leads right back into the cave of death.

***

_*Inside the cave*_

The serpent folk monk, wearing a living garter snake around his throat as some sort of weird necklace, springs forward at Arthur but his foot scrapes the wall and he stumbles, giving Arthur (who is holding a torch) a chance to shove his burning brand at the monk’s face.  The monk jerks back, then kicks Arthur in the wrist with crushing force, knocking the brand from his hand.  It rolls down several of the steps.  Grinning in the shadows, the monk snarls, “Fools!  We shall feed you to our god Meershaulk!”

Arthur tumbles back and partway down the stairs, screaming, “I don’t want a milkshake!”

Behind him, a huge serpent’s head made of green stone gapes, and a twitching, shuddering _thing_ lies in the great idol’s mouth.

The other creature resembles a large serpent, save for its pair of arms.  It slithers forward and slashes at Greased Lightning (Ari’s boar).  The boar dances back, squealing, and the blow misses, but then both serpent folk are pressing in on Arthur again.  

Erazmuz fortifies himself with a series of powers and spells, keeping well back as he does.  As Arthur tries to get away, the shaved head little deep halfling cries, “Come back, buddy!”  He draws out his rapier.  

Ari, meanwhile, moves into position and summons a trio of dire wolves.  Then he calls up some dire badgers.  It takes time, though- precious time.  By the time he’s got them, the serpent folk have retreated into their room, having pressed all the halflings out, and shut the door behind them.

“Don’t let ‘em get away, buddy!” cries Erazmuz.  He moves up, initiating a _force screen_.

Ari, casting _speak with animals,_ commands his dire badgers to tear through the door.  In mere moments, they do so and the fight continues.  The delay has given both sides a few moments to drink potions of healing and such, and the battle’s fury is immense now that everyone is spoiling for a fight.  Arthur hollers as he staggers drunkenly forward, having used the delay to take a shot or two.  That guy sure can _drink like a demon!_  The summoned wolves bound into the room, barking and tearing, and take down the monk!  He cries out as they rip at him, and he falls to the ground.  They tear out his throat- and also nearly slay the garter snake.  They are about to finish it off when they vanish back from whence they came.  

The dire badgers start rushing at the more serpentine one, but it hisses and sways and they stumble to a halt.  It seems that they have somehow become entranced.  Arthur tumbles in next to the serpent creature and it holds up a jug of slimy yellow fluid, similar to that surrounding the _thing_ in the idol’s mouth.

“Drink this,” _suggests_ the serpent.

“Eat thish!” replies Arthur, landing a stunning blow on the serpent’s nose!  Nara touches it with an _inflict critical wounds_ and blood pours from its body.  The serpent hisses angrily and tries to cast defensively, but it is surrounded and shaken by the fierce halfling onslaught.  He can’t pull it together!  He starts to panic when Nara swipes at him again, this time with an _inflict serious wounds,_ but fortunately she misses.  

Erazmuz, still reasonably distant from harm, loads his crossbow and fires.  The bolt flies true, sinking feather-deep in the serpent’s neck.  A fleeting look of agony passes over it, and then it sinks graciously to the ground and stops moving. 

Arthur stumbles to the serpent idol, staring in horror.  “No,” he gasps.  “Sandy?”

“Wow- it’s a good thing you didn’t drink that stuff,” remarks Nara with a wrinkle of her nose.  She kicks the jug over, spilling the foul contents.  

Ari nods agreement.  “I’ve heard stories, told in druidic circles, about the serpent folk.  They feed you a nasty potion to turn you into some kind of half-snake slave.  Anything other than a human dies a horrible death.”

Arthur stares down at the form in the snake’s mouth.  Surrounded by thick yellow fluid and cast off skin, the form is wearing the tattered remains of Sandy’s garb, torn and stretched, for whatever the creature is that is in the mouth now, it is nearly 6’ tall.  Its misshapen limbs and deformed face bear only the slightest resemblance to Sandy- but the resemblance is there. 

Out of mercy, Arthur breaks his neck.  Then they burn the body, taking only his _wand of cure moderate wounds_.

There is no sign at all of Lundey or Beau.

When they search for loot, they find the remains of a magic fluid smashed in the fight in one of the cabinets.  In addition there are a few potions on the serpent-folk and a scimitar that is too big for our heroes to use.  The monk wore a jade room carved into a serpent (that is not magical).  Perhaps oddest of all, the little garter snake that the wolves savaged is magic as well.  Erazmuz puts this in a box.  Finally, there is a map that appears to show the location of a monastery deep in the jungle.

Suddenly they note a light coming up from below, and Martini and Naomi enter the scene.  

”Halflings!” exclaims Martini.  “I thought they were gnomes.”

“Hey, who are you, buddies?” asks Erazmuz, and introductions are soon made all around, with Arthur as the center point between them, albeit one that is busy vomiting and then passing out in the corner.  Soon the Underdark halflings have explained the sad fate of Sandy, and after some speculation about the others the group decides they must have been sacrificed.  There is a massive amount of blood within the mouth of the serpent.  

A search by Martini and Naomi finds that one of the serpent head’s teeth pivots.  When it is pivoted, a secret panel in the back of the snake’s mouth opens, and Martini crawls through and finds a chest.  He shoves it back out and the party bashes it open.  It holds more monkish robes and several more of the jade rings. 

Martini and Naomi explain that they got into this mess following a war wagon that had been stolen.  “It’s right outside,” remarks Naomi.  They all troop out and look it over.  The group easily identifies two main issues with getting it moving: the broken wheel and the lack of a team.  The wheel, claim both Ari and Nara, is easy.  But the team...

“How were we going to get it out of here anyway?” wonders Martini.  He frowns.

Erazmuz has a riding lizard; Ari has Greased Lightning.  “I have a dog,” Naomi offers doubtfully.

“I can push from behind as a bear,” offers Ari.

“All right, we need to rest first, and tomorrow when I renew my spells I’ll be sure to pack a _make whole_.  Then we’ll see how it goes.”  Nara smiles.  “It just takes a little time.”

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes attempt to move the war wagon!  What trouble and mishaps will befall them?  Will the snake-people make an attempt to retrieve the wagon?  Who will keep it?  Will our (remaining) heroes survive??

*The pcs were referring to it as the cave of death by this time in the game notes they were taking, and when referring to it ooc.


----------



## Brain

For the readers, an idea of Erasmuz's mannerisms:  Similar to Saddam from the South Park movie.  (Notice he says buddy a lot).  He's also very slick and always telling people what he thinks they want to hear.

Also, my obligatory spelling nit pick:  I spell it Erasmuz.


----------



## weiknarf

Sandy! NOOOOOOO!!!!!


----------



## the Jester

_*10/30/369 O.L.G., 10 a.m.*_

Despite a night time encounter with a shambling mound of motile vegetation, our heroes find themselves reasonably well-rested in the morning.  They spend the morning restfully, hoping to get enough good rest for Naomi to recover the psionic energy she expended fighting the plant in the night.  Soon enough Nara has _made whole_ both the wheel and the peg that holds it in place, and our heroes have harnessed up the lizard, boar and dog.  With Ari in bear form pushing from behind, the war wagon awkwardly starts its slow progression back to town.

”Hey buddy, how far is it?” asks Erazmus.

Martini shrugs.  “It took a couple of days for us to walk it, but we were catching up to them the whole time- the war wagon obviously travels slower than we do on foot through this terrain.”

The jungle’s heat and humidity, the insects and spiders, the strange scents- all take their toll on our heroes’ senses.  After three days of travel, Erazmus starts to feel ill; Nara fixes him up, but it reminds Jawbreaker all too uncomfortably of the blinding sickness both he and Beau had fallen victim to.  

Ah, Beau... poor Beau, doubtless sacrificed to the serpent folk.

Or so Jawbreaker believes; so do all our heroes believe.  In fact, Beau, a garter snake in both mind and body, is shut tight in a box in Erasmuz’ pack.  The pale little halfling of many talents (though of dubious nature) seems to have a thing for snakes, for his familiar is a snake as well.  

In any event, our heroes find themselves assaulted again that evening as they continue to try to make their escape.  Another wave of the serpent folk rushes the party, trying again to overcome them, but the party manages to throw off their assault.  Unfortunately, Greased Lightning is felled in the battle.  Grief-stricken, Ari takes the corpse into the bush and cuts strips of meat that he tosses into the woods for the beasts of the jungle.  “Anyone who wishes to partake of him must do so as nature intended,” he says, his eyes full of pain.  Jawbreaker shrugs and eats some raw pig.

After cleaning up from the battle, Naomi complains, “This jungle is going to be the death of us yet!”

“In all fairness, we should have seen that coming,” Nara states.  “You said that these snake guys have gone to great lengths to steal this thing in the first place, right?  So why would they give up now?”

“Very true,” says Erazmus.  

”Worse yet, how are we going to pull it now?”  Ari sighs.  “Without Greased Lightning...”  His voice trails off ominously.  To their dismay, our heroes realize that he’s right. 

“We can’t take it,” whispers Naomi, stricken. 

”Then we burn it,” says Ari firmly.  “At least that way, whatever _they_ want it for, we’ve spoiled it.”

Slowly, reluctantly, our heroes agree.  Ari first casts _pass without trace_ on the party, and then sadly _flame strikes_ the war wagon.  Every time they glance behind themselves, the plume of smoke in the distance makes them wince.  

***

_*11/3/369 O.L.G., 11:30 p.m.*_

The campsite of our heroes is quiet.  They have settled down into sleep, save for their watcher, Ari.  Suddenly, from above, a short bamboo javelin shoots down, stabbing into his shoulder!  Hissing his breath between his teeth, he sounds the alert, and the party struggles up and brings weapons to hand.  Nothing emerges from the jungle canopy, however.  

This sets the tone for the night- although at one point Naomi slays one of the creatures responsible with a psionic attack at range, the party is intermittently attacked by javelins from the trees.  After a few attacks, Nara suggests that she can use a spell of hers called _nap_ to allow them to rest quickly (except for a watcher), and then they can move quickly in a short time.  The party agrees, and about an hour and a half later they are moving by torchlight through the dark jungle.  

Near dawn, they break at last from the jungle.  With a collective sigh of relief, they move the last few miles and finally find themselves back in Sritivara.  After some discussion, the combined halfling force agrees to go to Methwo first to receive the reward promised for the ring that the doppelganger Rimmer stole, and thence to Zacradose to ‘discuss’ the political situation with the self-proclaimed King Stackler.

_*Next Time:*_ Shenanigans in Methwo!  Will the halflings get paid for the ring?  Who will try to poison them?  And how will they get to Zacradose?


----------



## the Jester

Our revised party line-up:

*Chief Jawbreaker* (barbarian 7/bear warrior 2); just reached 100 hp with this level!; CG.
*Federico* (kobold bard 6/sorcerer 2/jester 1); CG.
*Naomi* (psion/elementalist 5/3)- headed for Willing Deformity (Obese) and, eventually, Cancer Mage; LE.
*Martini* (ranger 3/fighter 3/order of the bow initiate 2); CG.
*Nara* (cleric of Coila 5/prophet 3); LN
*Erasmuz* (wizard 1/psion 1/ranger 1/ex-monk 2/ur-priest 2); NE.
*Aristoclese* (druid 7); N.
*Arthur On-Tap* (monk 5/drunken master 2); LN.


----------



## Brain

the Jester said:
			
		

> Examining the split in the passage, our heroes find that the left branch leads to a dead-end chamber with a raised portcullis leading into it. It appears that the beetles live in the chamber and the portcullis was raised, presumably by the halflings’ prey, to release the bugs and slow the party down.
> 
> The right-hand passage is blocked off by a portcullis. A lever in the wall beyond it tantalizes our heroes; one can only assume that it controls the mechanism blocking them from following Rimmer. The halflings, small as they are, cannot move past the portcullis without raising the lever.
> 
> Ari uses his ability to summon animals to bring out a monkey on the other side of the portcullis, and then speaks with animals and asks it to raise the lever. Scampering to the wall, it complies, and with the sound of hidden chains groaning, the barrier rises, allowing our heroes passage.




It wasn't a monkey that opened up the door, it was a Dwarven drummer-bard.  Erasmuz used his cool magic wand of _Summon Bard_ (cydra homebrew spell) that brings a bard from within 100 miles to listen to the summoner's stories and then go back and spread them.  The party convinced the dwarf to flip the lever on the wall (for a small fee) and then proceeded to tell him tall tales of their adventures, heavily embellishing their deeds.

I'm sure Erasmuz will be using that wand for some fun times in the future as well.  Stay tuned!


----------



## the Jester

Ah, yes, the wand. 

Fixed the incident in question... I couldn't recall how you guys got past it, I remember Ari thinking over a monkey and couldn't recall what else you guys came up with.


----------



## hippiejedi2

One of the biggest proponents of the Halfling Warwagon was Sandy, one of Sandy's ambitions and dreams was the warwagon.

Ari decided that the warwagon was best destroyed as opposed to going into the hands of the serpent folk.

In a spiteful twist of fate Sandy and Ari was/is played by the same player. Ari destroying the warwagon seems to be a symbolic gesture representing a new direction for the Halflling party. Old friends lost, new friends made, the forging of new aspirations in between elevensies and lunch. What awaits the future of the Halflings? Perhaps only the prophet Nara knows.


----------



## the Jester

*To Get Paid*

_*11/4/369 O.L.G., Noon, Sritivara*_

Our heroes have officially returned to civilization.  

The deep halflings (Nara and Erasmuz) have, of course, never been anywhere like this city in the upper world.  The ocean amazes them- they have underground seas, yes, but _nothing_ like this.  Humans, barely known to their kind, are everywhere, along with strange, light-skinned elves and a smattering of scowling dwarves.

“Are there halflings here?” inquires Nara.

“We should probably avoid the halfling quarter,” Naomi says hurriedly.

“Why?” the two deep halflings and Ari chorus at once.

“Mistakes were made.”  She will not elaborate.

***

Most of the group spends the first portion of the day at their inn.  Erasmuz _identifies_ the party’s two wands- they are a _wand of cure moderate wounds_ (taken off Sandy’s corpse) and a _wand of fireballs_ (used by the serpent-folk in the initial battle in the cave of death).  While he does that, Ari visits a local druid of some repute named Monli, and they discuss the problem of the serpent folk.  Monli knows little about them, and has never encountered them personally.  He listens attentively to Ari’s tale but has little to add to it. 

In the afternoon, Martini manages to charter passage for them to Methwo.  The ship sails on the morning tide. 

That evening, despite the warnings of the others, Erasmuz and Nara make a trip to the halfling quarter.  When they leave after a good meal and a few drinks, they are quite puzzled as to why they shouldn’t go to such a friendly, welcoming place.

Well, it doesn’t really matter.  In the morning they will leave for Methwo.  

***

_*11/9/369 O.L.G., Noon, Methwo*_

Our heroes disembark, happy to be off the rolling seas.  Immediately, Ari leads his friends to a nice-looking wooden mansion in the nicer part of town.  When he announces who he is, and that he has the ring that he was sent to retrieve, the group is ushered to a waiting area for a very brief time, then shown to an older human gentleman named Vrem.  He is extremely pleased to have the ring back, and gives the group two platinum trade bars.  According to their marks, each is worth 1200 gp.  Quite a nice reward!

The party discusses with Vrem the issue of Zacradose and its “king” Stackler.  “They have territorial ambitions,” Martini states, “on Dyshim.”

“We need to go there in order to prevent a war,” adds Naomi.

“That’s a worthy cause,” remarks Ari.

“Can you help us find discrete passage?” 

Vrem looks thoughtful.  “I believe so, but it will cost you.”

“How much?”

He shrugs.  “I will have to find out.  Tell me where you are staying and I will send you word when I know something.”

Naomi, always fearful of treachery, uses her empathic powers to read the man.  He seems merely pleased at the return of his ring, and he is feeling magnanimous.  The increasingly obese Naomi relaxes. 

The group sells off what loot they can and divides up treasure.  The _wand of fireballs_ goes to Naomi; as an elementalist she can make good use of it.  The healing wand goes to Nara.  Various other items are dispersed.  The party does some shopping; most of it is unremarkable, but Erasmuz does hoodwink a retired adventurer out of a _ring of water breathing,_ trading what he claims is a _potion of longevity_ for it.  The old adventurer falls for it, as they say, hook line and sinker, and trades straight across for the potion, which is as yet unidentified but is in reality a _potion of spider climb._

For the next three days, our heroes keep a low profile, mostly staying in their rooms.  They don’t _know_ that anyone’s after them, but they fear agents of the snake-folk, agents of Zacradose, and even perhaps revenge-dedicated friends of Heather Peachtree (well, only most of our heroes fear them at this point).  Finally, word comes from Vrem, and they hurry to his very nice home.

He tells them that he has arranged passage on a vessel called the _Proud Pentor_ for them.  It is a very fast and very discrete ship, and very reliable; but it will cost each of them 250 gp.  Grumbling, they reach for their coins, but he shakes his head.  “Pay the ship’s captain, not me.  I only arranged things to help you because you helped me.”  He smiles.  “Now, good luck to you!”

Thanking him for the well-wishing, our heroes return to the inn and proceed to have dinner.  As another pitcher of beer is coming their way, another patron bumps into the waitress, and Ari and Erasmuz notice him drop some kind of powder into it.  With a muttered apology, the fellow leaves the building.  

“Hey, buddies, nobody drink the beer, that guy just put something in it!” Erasmuz declares.

“What?” exclaims Jawbreaker.  “Someone try to poison Jawbreaker’s beer?”

Ari, meanwhile, slips out the door after the man.  Catching sight of him down the street, the little druid _wild shapes_ into a dog and follows.

_*Next Time:*_ Where is the guy going?  Who else is there?  And what’s going on??


----------



## hippiejedi2

Ari got bracers o' wis +2.

While JB was speculating that the perp was trying to poison us, Nara _detected poision_ and it was poisionous. Nara's default spell list includes a dectect poision, as whenever anything is encoutered by the party one of the first reactions consists of "is it edible, is it delicious?"


----------



## the Jester

*The Warehouse*

The human walks swiftly down the packed earth road.  He seems to be heading towards the warehouse district.  Ari- in the form of a large dog- casually trots half a block behind him.  The man occasionally glances behind him as if half-expecting pursuit, but he pays no attention to the mangy-looking stray.  He is watching out for halflings.  After all, he did spike their drink with poison.  

The man slips into a large warehouse, shutting the door behind him.  Ari watches for a minute or two, and then hurries back towards the inn where his friends are anxiously awaiting his report.  Turning back into a halfling just before reaching the door, Ari breathlessly tells the others, “I followed him to a warehouse.  Should we go attack him?”

“Who is this guy?” wonders Naomi.

“There might be a bunch of them,” Erasmuz points out.

Nara’s eyes roll back in her head.  She starts to shake and drool.  Everyone stares at her for a moment; then she comes out of it.  “We should do it,” she says, wiping her chin.  “It would be to our benefit.

“I am a prophet.  I _know._”

***

The party breaks into the warehouse.  The main part of it is a single large, empty room.  The back wall has four doors in it.  Our heroes cluster around the leftmost one.  Erasmuz backs away- there’s nowhere to stand near that door, with everyone else up in there- and heads to the rightmost door.  It’s not locked; he opens it-

Three formidable looking humans are behind the door.  A greatsword slashes out and draws a crimson line across the backpedaling Erasmuz.  “Hey, buddies, can I get some help over here?” he cries, as the poisoner and another man, wielding a morningstar, leap out and move in to flank him.  “Help!” Erasmuz calls again.

But the other door has led to a threat as well- a trio of foul-looking undead!  Two of them cast _magic missiles_ at Jawbreaker, while the third rushes forward and attempts to gouge him with its claw.  He parries, and then swings his greataxe against the undead.  It leaps back, avoiding the blow.  

“I can take care of these guys,” Nara says, and turns undead.  The wight at the front squeals and scampers back into the corner, cowering.  The other two undead fire more _magic missiles,_ this time at the prophetess; but an instant later she turns them, too.  Then she spends the next few moments finishing them off.

Meanwhile, Erasmuz is dodging and weaving as the three enemies attack him.  The greatsword wielder’s blow glances off the _force screen_ the halfling manifests, while the morningstar and sap the other two are using he dodges away from.  Ari, hoping to aid his friend, starts summoning.  Seconds later, three thoqquas appear!  Jawbreaker engages the swordsman, and the two hew at each other, sword and axe dancing a dangerous dance together.  Each scores several telling wounds on the other.  Then the thoqquas moves in on the other side of the swordsman, surrounding him!  He grits his teeth and starts cutting through them.  Wolves bound in against him as well- Ari is pulling his customary ‘army of creatures’ trick.

Meanwhile, Naomi drops the morningstar-wielding assassin with a _recall agony._  She turns on the wounded swordsman, who has destroyed all the thoqquas and most of the wolves, and hits him with an augmented _mind thrust._  He reels and falls.

“Take the last one alive!” cries Ari.  “Let’s find out what they wanted!”

The sap-wielder who poisoned them grimaces fiercely and attempts to back off a pace as the others surround him.  They try- they really do- but Jawbreaker cuts him nearly in two.  

“I can _speak with dead_ in the morning anyway,” shrugs Nara.  She takes the heads of the swordsman and the fellow who slipped the poison into the party’s beer.

The party searches their adversaries, and already things get interesting.  The sword wielder wore a signet ring with a griffin symbol on it.  The fellow who had wielded a morningstar wore a ring of green stone shaped into a serpent, much like the serpent-folk monks that our heroes have fought in the jungle had.  The party wonders at the significance of this.  They become more interested when, while investigating the warehouse, Erasmuz finds crates of weapons and shields.

“It’s almost enough for an army,” muses Naomi.

They also find a letter in some kind of code or cipher.  This they tuck away for the present.

“We should leave a note for Vrem about this, so he knows,” Ari says.  The party mostly agrees (though Jawbreaker just shrugs and admits he’s not so good with “funny lines on paper”).  They compose it and leave it for him; and then they snatch a few short hours of sleep.  Then, bright and early, they rise, gather their effects and leave, heading for the ship they’ve chartered and Zacradose.

_*Next Time:*_ The Return of Laodegan!  The return of Weeweerinwee!  And, as always, trouble at sea!


----------



## the Jester

*At Sea*

_*11/13/369 O.L.G., 6:45 a.m., on board the *_*Proud Pentor*

The _Proud Pentor_ is an interesting vessel, with strange lines, odd-shaped sails, and a generally very different look from the other ships our heroes have seen before.  To the deep halflings (Nara and Erasmuz), this is not unusual; almost _everything_ on the surface world is bizarre-looking and made out of unfamiliar materials.  

The first mate of the _Proud Pentor_ is named Grey Jorn.  He is weather-beaten, with wild, unkempt hair going grey and the sort of half-beard that shows inattention rather than cultivation.  He is a half-elf, and the party quickly gets the sense that he handles the ship’s business while the captain remains mostly sight unseen.  He is polite and deferential, but when he needs to he barks as fiercely as anyone could expect from a ship’s mate.  There are a total of about a dozen crewmen aboard the ship, scrambling up ropes and masts, tying things, untying things, moving this and that, checking netting, swabbing the decks- in general, doing the sorts of things that sailors do, which are pretty nearly completely unknown to the party since the loss of their sole boatman, Sandy.*

“We’ll be takin’ a discrete path to Zacradose,” comments Grey Jorn.  “It should take us about fifteen days to get there, if the winds’re average.”

“Fifteen days!” exclaims Ari.

Grey Jorn eyes him.  “Aye, ya want to avoid any unnecessary entanglements, don’t ya?”

“Yeah...”

“Well, we’ll be takin’ a route to avoid unnecessary entanglements.”

***

_*9 a.m.*_

Shut up in the cabin the party has been assigned, Nara pulls the heads she took from the poisoner and the warrior from her backpack.  She stares at intently and casts _speak with dead_ on the head of the human who attempted to poison the group.

“Why did you poison us?” she demands.

The head’s eyes open and its tongue lolls out.  _”Gold,”_ is groans.  _“Gold, gold, gold- gold to make me rich!”_

Nara shakes her head.  “Name the being that put you up to this,” she says.

_“Can’t.  Don’t know.”_  It shudders, gnashing its teeth.

Nara considers; she may ask it only one more question.  _We should have taken the third guy’s head too,_ she thinks ruefully.  Well, maybe she can eliminate some possibilities right away.  “In the group you were with, was the guy with the greatsword the leader?”

_”Yes,”_ the head moans, then gasps, shudders and falls still.

Nara looks to the other head.  She casts another _speak with dead,_ but it manages to resist the spell.  She leans against the cabin wall, thinking.  _Tomorrow,_ she thinks.

She casts _gentle repose_ on the head of the warrior.  That evening she throws the head of the poisoner overboard.

***

_*11/14/369 O.L.G., 11 a.m.*_

Late the next morning, Nara tries to speak to the dead fighter’s head again.  This time she forces some answers from it.

“Whom do you serve?” she demands as her spell takes hold of it.

_“Father,”_ it groans.

“What is your family name?”

_“We are... the Cloudriders,”_ the head responds.

“What does the coded message say?”

_“Instructions.”_  The head gurgles and lapses into silence.

_Not too illuminating, but better than nothing,_ thinks the prophetess.  That night she makes ready to discard the head, but Erasmuz protests.  With a shrug, she lets him keep it.  

“Hey, buddies, what we need,” he announces the next day, “is a _read with dead_ spell.”

“A... _what?_”  Nara stares at him, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, then we could make it read the note to us.”

“Is there such a spell?” asks Ari.

“Not that I’ve heard of,” Erasmuz admits.  “But we should make one!”

“Why, are you a cleric?” Nara asks. 

“No, no, uh- I’m more arcane,” the shaven headed fellow demurs.  Inside, he is most amused at the question.  _Clerics,_ he scoffs mentally.

***

The party spends the next couple of days on the ship doing very little.  Their mounts are tied in the hold.  Using his snake familiar, Erasmuz tracks down some wriggling baby rats from deep in the hold and feeds them to the magic snake that he took from the serpent-folk.  This, of course, is Beau, animal in body and mind.

A storm rolls in one evening, and our heroes put themselves below decks, in their cabin, and stay dry.  The next morning the rain continues, and the party amuses itself by playing cards with the crew, gambling some loose silver and copper away.  (Erasmuz actually comes out slightly ahead; his skill at bluffing serves him well in cards.)

Then there is the sound of a hail from on deck.  Investigating, our heroes find that several Imperial Strogassian vessels are bearing down on them!  Initially, the halflings try to hide, but a sailor tells them, “As long as yer not wanted fer anything ya should be okay.  But if they catch ya hidin’ they’ll be takin’ ya away for sure.”  They heed his warning and head up to the deck.  The captain has even emerged from his cabin for once.  

“I thought we were taking a discrete route,” Ari says to Grey Jorn.

“We are,” the half-elf sighs, and spits into the water.  “These fellas are fairly out of their way here.”

The _Proud Pentor_ heaves to as the Strogassian ships slide in alongside it.  The captain and first mate keep their faces still as the _Pentor_ is boarded, and soon marines are searching for contraband.  When the Imperial captain comes aboard, however, it is a human that several of our heroes recognize.  Dressed in a fancy pressed uniform showing a medal on his chest, his sword at his side, the officer is clearly-

“Laodegan!”

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes do a little catching up with an old pal over dinner, saving the captain of the _Proud Pentor_ a considerable sum!  Plus: the return of another old friend!


*Sandy, as a stout, was from a more water-loving breed of halfling than most.


----------



## Brain

the Jester said:
			
		

> “Hey, buddies, what we need,” he announces the next day, “is a _read with dead_ spell.”
> 
> “A... _what?_”  Nara stares at him, dumbfounded.
> 
> “Yeah, then we could make it read the note to us.”
> 
> “Is there such a spell?” asks Ari.
> 
> “Not that I’ve heard of,” Erasmuz admits.  “But we should make one!”




If any readers want to help me out with the creation of that spell, check out the thread. [THREAD=135473]Erasmuz’s Exhumed Exposition (aka read with dead)
[/THREAD]


----------



## the Jester

*Old Friends*

_*11/19/369 O.L.G., 6 p.m., Captain Laodegan’s stateroom on his lead ship*_

The clanking of cutlery and forks on fine Imperial china mixes with the sounds of chewing and the decanting of fluids into thick naval cups.  The tablecloth is functional if not fine, and the napkins are clean and soft.  The food, though mostly fish-based, includes some fresh vegetables (maintained, though our heroes don’t know it, by a magical larder that would make them salivate), rice and hard biscuits.  

The group chats with Laodegan, and it is abundantly clear from the start that their old friend (well, at least _some of them_ know him from their journey to the Asylum of Advanced Mental Treatment) is rising quickly through society. 

From what the halflings have discovered over the course of their adventures, the Dark Emperor, long the absolute master of Strogass and its satellites, died (or at least vanished) sometime in the last few years.  Things on the continent have begun to fall apart politically, with some provinces going so far as to try to break away.  (Zacradose, where they are headed, is one such place; and though it nominally governs Dyshim, the isle they have departed within the last few days, Dyshim has- with their aid- broken even from Zacradose).

The party mentions the ruler of Zacradose, former governor and now self-styled ‘king’ Stackler, who has tried to conquer Dyshim already.  Laodegan nods.  “We’ll deal with him,” he promises firmly.

It seems that Laodegan’s faction backs his own father, who was the administrator of the Imperial capitol for the Dark Emperor.  He was in a perfect position to make a grab for the reins; Laodegan describes it as a bid to maintain proper order in society.  He admits there are a lot of ‘separatists movements’ on Strogass at the moment, but insists that, when al is said and done, “daddy will put them down.”

Laodegan is clearly glad to see those of our heroes that he still recognizes, and though he looks at them with a jaded view, he happily meets the other halflings in the party.  The truth is, he is glad to have a new set of voices for a few hours- a group that isn’t slavishly devoted to him.  As nice as that is, it grows monotonous after a few months at sea.

When Ari remarks that the Strogassian vessels are patrolling far afield, Laodegan nods.  “Yes, we’re looking for arms smugglers.  There are a lot of weapons being trafficked at the moment.  Obviously that’s a problem.  So we’re keeping an eye out on the extended trade lines.  My men tell me that they didn’t see anything suspicious on board your vessel.  I’m sure we can waive some of the other inspections and fees.”  Laodegan smiles magnanimously.  

***

_*8:30 p.m., on board the *_*Proud Pentor*

The journey continues.  Grey Jorn informs the heroes, “You saved us some money there.”

“What do you mean?” asks Nara.

“Their captain pulled them off of us before they could steal much or charge us a bunch of fees.  You guys are good to know.”

The _Proud Pentor_ travels only a short distance before dropping anchor.  It is full dark already, and a cold, light rain rattles down onto the deck off and on.  Our heroes rest, and bright and early the journey continues through the rain. 

***

_*11/22/369 O.L.G., Noon*_

Most of our heroes are on deck.  Erasmuz prefers to stay below decks; it’s more like the caverns he is used to.  He finds all the open space somewhat unsettling, and he’s never seen open water like this, dancing with waves, thick with fish.  Yes, below decks is better for now.

Up above, Ari spies a whale.  The great creature seems to be approaching the vessel.  _Whales are usually friendly,_ the druid thinks to himself, and shouts to the crew.  “Hey, there’s a whale!”  He gestures off the port bow.

Grey Jorn hurries over and squints out across the water.  “Looks like he’s wounded,” the half-elf remarks.  Soon the vessel and the whale are next to each other.

The whale _is_ wounded.  Moreover, as our heroes hail it and begin to talk to it, it becomes evident that it is Weeweerinwee, who towed them to Dyshim after their long marooning in the small cluster of uncharted isles that they named the Dogtooth Islands.  

Nara, Erasmuz and Ari all apply some healing to the whale as it tells its tale, begging for the party’s aid.  Weeweerinwee had been traveling with “a beee-YOUUUUtiful mermaid friend of mIIIIIIIIne” when they came upon a fishing vessel under attack by “deevil men of the DEEEEEEEEEP”.  The whale’s voice rises and falls, extends some sounds while truncating others.  Were it not for Weeweerinwee’s desperation, the effect would be almost comical.  

The whale and the mermaid intervened in the attack, slaying many of the sea devils and driving off the rest.  Then Weeweerinwee rescued two elven fishermen and was going to return them to another ship.  Unfortunately, the monsters returned and managed to wound Weeweerinwee badly, taking away both the mermaid and the elves.  

“They went intooooo a lair tooooo smaaalll for me to enter,” the whale laments.  “I once helped YOOOOUUUUUU, now yoooouu must help meeee.”

“What are these devil men of the deep?” Erasmuz asks nervously.  “They don’t sound like fun.”

“Sea devils,” grumbles Grey Jorn.  “_Sahuagin._  Very dangerous.  They’re devil-worshiping fish-men.”

“PLEEEEAAASE,” begs Weeweerinwee.

“Fish-men?”  This seems to perk Erasmuz’ interest.*

The party discusses it, and the newer group, Ari, Erasmuz and Nara, decides to use some _water breathing_ magic and check it out.  Grey Jorn and the captain are clearly very nervous about remaining in shark-infested waters for any length of time, and it requires a bribe of 150 gp to get him to agree to stay for a full 24 hours.  “That ought to give us enough time to take a trip or two down,” Nara states.

“Dooon’t delay,” Weeweerinwee says.  “Sahuagin eeeat peeeople.”

A combination of _water breathing_ on everyone, _freedom of movement_ on Nara and _wild shaping_ into a shark follows, with Nara and Erasmuz then grabbing onto the whale as it swims out to the sahuagin lair.  There is deposits them, promising to stay relatively close, but warning them that it cannot enter the small passage.  Plainly, this is nothing short of literal truth.  The passage is shaped from a living coral reef, extending back into the darkness.  

Ari slowly moves in- then jerks back.  A starfish that is easily 6’ across starts to reach a massive arm at him from the ceiling.  He returns to his halfling form, drawing out a dagger.  “Starfish!” he cries.  Both Erasmuz and Nara retreat, as well.  Her hair waves in the water; he is shaven-headed and has no such aesthetically pleasing element.  He does, however, cast _mage armor,_ following this with a manifestation of _force screen._ 

Nara strides forward. “What’s a starfish?” she asks as she enters the cave.  “Oh- that!”  She jabs her morning star at the creature, nailing it with the spike.  Suddenly, several squids appear, summoned by Ari, and they begin trying to tear the starfish to bits.  Nara continues to pound away, and taking heart, Erasmuz moves up with his wee little rapier.  Poke!  He pierces it too.  The starfish is looking to be in pretty bad shape, but then suddenly our heroes have other things to worry about.  

The devil men of the deep arrive.

Hideous shark-toothed brutes, green in color, the sahuagin are tenacious foes of mankind.  They are shark-like in appetite, brutal in approach, without remorse in character.  They serve the Great Shark, He Who Devours, the Eater of Everything, Sekolah.  With them are a pair of large sharks.  One of the sharks twitches its tail and shoots forward, chomping at one of the summoned squids.  Behind it a quartet of sahuagin fire underwater crossbows, their bolts whizzing past.  At the rear, barely illuminated by the _light_ on Nara’s morning star, another of the sea devils mounts the second shark.

Ari pulls out all the summons he can.  The party turns to repelling this formidable assault, and more and more summoned allies pop out to help them.  The sahuagin and their shark tear into the squids (mmmm, calamari) and eventually our heroes are driven off having only slain a single sahuagin.  A timely _entangle_ keeps any pursuit from slaying and eating our heroes, and a quick call for Weeweerinwee soon leads to a quick departure back to the ship.

“We can’t do it,” Ari says pessimistically.  “They’re too tough.”

“Maybe if we go in in force,” suggests Naomi.  But she wonders: _Will my pyromancy work under water?  Probably not._

“Well, either way,” Erasmuz says, “we should summon a bard and tell him all about it!”  With a flourish, he produces his _wand of summon bard_ and activates it.  A dolphin appears, dropping onto the deck with a squeal of surprise.  An instant later, it shape changes into a silvery-skinned humanoid- a merellin.

“Who are you?” he demands.  “Where am I?  How did you bring me here?”

“Hey, relax, buddy!” exclaims Erasmuz with a smile.  He explains the party’s situation (recounting some exaggerated stories along the way) and asks him, “Do your people live around here?  Do you think they would help us?”

“I could ask,” the bard replies uneasily.  “And we hate the sea devils- they are our worst enemies.  Them and their shark allies.”

“When could you get here?”

“I don’t know where I am,” the merellin reminds him.  

Fortunately, the ship’s captain has charts of the local hazards and features, and using this the merellin ascertains his position.  He says, “If they left immediately upon my return and swam hard, they might make it by dawn.”

“We have until noon,” Erasmuz nods.  “We have plenty of time.”

“We should go.  This is asking for trouble.”  Ari shakes his head balefully.

“All right,” says Martini.  “In the morning, hopefully with allies, we storm them in force.”

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes make their strike on the sea devils!

*Terrible irony time here.  Erasmuz is all kinds of multiclassed.  He has one level of ranger, with the favored enemy of humanoid (aquatic) with the intent of using it against kuo-toa, so he thought, “Hmm, sahuagin = aquatic humanoid?”  Well, I started to design these sahuagin encounters with half a nod to his favored enemy, and then discovered that sahuagin are monstrous humanoids, not humanoids.  It was only after that that he looked up kuo-toan and realized that they are also monstrous humanoids.   So now it’s become part of his back story- he dropped out of rangering after he chose the wrong favored enemy.  Funny, but sad at the same time.  On the other hand, mermaids are humanoid (aquatic) so if they find Weeweerinwee’s mermaid friend... who knows?  (So are those tasty locathah!)


----------



## Brain

the Jester said:
			
		

> *Terrible irony time here.  Erasmuz is all kinds of multiclassed.  He has one level of ranger, with the favored enemy of humanoid (aquatic) with the intent of using it against kuo-toa, so he thought, “Hmm, sahuagin = aquatic humanoid?”  Well, I started to design these sahuagin encounters with half a nod to his favored enemy, and then discovered that sahuagin are monstrous humanoids, not humanoids.  It was only after that that he looked up kuo-toan and realized that they are also monstrous humanoids.   So now it’s become part of his back story- he dropped out of rangering after he chose the wrong favored enemy.  Funny, but sad at the same time.  On the other hand, mermaids are humanoid (aquatic) so if they find Weeweerinwee’s mermaid friend... who knows?  (So are those tasty locathah!)




I'm actually planning on doing a slightly different take on Favored Enemy for Erasmuz.  I'm going to play it more like he is fascinated by them (aquatic humanoids) than he hates them.  Although there may be a dark secret there.  We'll see.


----------



## the Jester

Brain said:
			
		

> I'm actually planning on doing a slightly different take on Favored Enemy for Erasmuz.  I'm going to play it more like he is fascinated by them (aquatic humanoids) than he hates them.  Although there may be a dark secret there.  We'll see.




Very cool.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Wahoo!!  I am finally caught up in reading this thread.  Great work, Jester!  I have enjoyed this story hour quite a bit.  I find the whole halfling party and the way the players have played them to be quite entertaining and humorous.

I have also liked all the players adding their comments from their points of view.  I think it adds to the overall story hour.

The only thing that has been hard to follow is when some of the characters just disappear for a few adventures and then reappear as if nothing happened.  I am guessing that this is because their players didn't show up for that game, but it makes things a bit confusing at times.


----------



## the Jester

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Wahoo!!  I am finally caught up in reading this thread.  Great work, Jester!  I have enjoyed this story hour quite a bit.  I find the whole halfling party and the way the players have played them to be quite entertaining and humorous.




Hey, glad you've been enjoying it!   If you think _reading about_ the halflings is a hoot, you should sit it sometime.  If you're ever in the central valley in California, try to look us up... 



			
				OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> I have also liked all the players adding their comments from their points of view.  I think it adds to the overall story hour.




Oh, me too!  I really enjoy the pcs' perspectives- as a dm, I'm sure I miss some of the 'inner dialogue' and some of their mental concerns.



			
				OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> The only thing that has been hard to follow is when some of the characters just disappear for a few adventures and then reappear as if nothing happened.  I am guessing that this is because their players didn't show up for that game, but it makes things a bit confusing at times.




Heh... sorry about that. 

There are a couple of interwoven factors here: sometimes the player is absent, sometimes the character doesn't do anything really notable in that section of the adventure, and sometimes there are bits that take multiple updates that are resolved with one or two pcs in half and hour of game time.

I do try to 'write out' departed pcs when I know they aren't coming back, but sometimes that's a hard call to make.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

the Jester said:
			
		

> Hey, glad you've been enjoying it!   If you think _reading about_ the halflings is a hoot, you should sit it sometime.  If you're ever in the central valley in California, try to look us up...




Sometimes I make it out to the Bay area on business...maybe I can swing something on my next business trip.  I'd love to be able to sit in on a session!



> Heh... sorry about that.
> 
> There are a couple of interwoven factors here: sometimes the player is absent, sometimes the character doesn't do anything really notable in that section of the adventure, and sometimes there are bits that take multiple updates that are resolved with one or two pcs in half and hour of game time.
> 
> I do try to 'write out' departed pcs when I know they aren't coming back, but sometimes that's a hard call to make.




Well that makes a lot of sense.  I appreciate the great story.

One thing that I noticed is that it's bad to be Chief Jawbreaker's advisor.  First Timothy and then Zeke...who will be next?


----------



## the Jester

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> One thing that I noticed is that it's bad to be Chief Jawbreaker's advisor.  First Timothy and then Zeke...who will be next?




The irony is that both Timothy and Zeke were played by the same guy (Brain).

We actually made a few comments in the game where Ezekiel died to this effect too.


----------



## the Jester

*Strike on the Sea Devils*

_*11/23/369 O.L.G., 5:30 a.m., on the *_*Proud Pentose*

The sun is barely pulling itself from the eastern sea when two merellin arrive, swimming through the waters in cetacean form.   They change into humanoid form and clamber aboard, introducing themselves as Tweewak and Kilkelkik.  When the party asks whether they have any experience with the sea devils, Tweewak says flatly, “I hunt them.”

The captain remains nervous about staying, but he and Grey Jorn have already agreed to give the party until noon.  Naomi sweetens the pot, convincing him to stay until dark with a further ‘donation’.  Weeweerinwee reassures the captain that he will keep watch over the boat.

It seems to take forever for the party to get ready to go.  This is mostly because Erasmuz takes forever to prepare his spells.  While he does so, Naomi takes the opportunity to cook up some breakfast.  Ahh, bacon!

Finally, they cast _water breathing_ and then descend back into the water.  Weeweerinwee tows most of them, though the merellin swim on their own in their dolphin forms and Ari is doing likewise in the shape of a shark.*  Over the coral landscape they swim, the scene beneath them a riot of color.  Anemones, plants, mussels and strange growths dot the scape below them, corralled by a huge reef of coral.  Schools of silver and orange fish dart past our heroes, an occasional sea turtle or jellyfish floats by.  Slowly the sahuagin cave comes again into view.  Weeweerinwee deposits our heroes and then retreats towards the ship.

When our heroes move into the coral cave of the sahuagin, the sea devils are waiting for them again.  This time, however, our heroes have come in force and with merellin allies!  Although Kilkelkik fumbles badly, Tweewak shows his hunting skills are as impressive as he implied on the ship above while Federico japes to inspire our heroes with courage.  Meanwhile Ari summons sharks of his own, which take big hunks of flesh from the foe with their bites. Together, the party and their allies put paid to the sahuagin guardians.  The shark-rider proves fairly challenging, jerking the shark out of the way of the halflings’ blows.  However, Erasmuz’ suite of protective magic and psionics is so potent that the trident-wielding sea devil can only hit him a few times!  The blows that do land are signficant, however.  

But our heroes tear through the lesser sahuagin, and Naomi’s mental attacks blast more than one of the devil men of the deep into oblivion.  The shark-rider makes a feeble attempt at parlay before trying to bolt, hamstringing Martini along the way and bringing him to the teetering edge of unconsciousness.  He’s already been damaged, and his allies are all dead or unconscious...

Tweelak swims in at high speed, smashing his nose into the sahuagin’s gills, and with a gasp it expires.  Naomi’s mental attacks blast his shark’s mind to jelly, and the initial battle is over.  

Our heroes don’t even stop to loot, reasoning that they can do so after they’ve found and rescued the elves and mermaid.  “How could the elves even still be alive?” queries Ari dubiously, but the merellin have an answer.

“They could have a bubble.”

”Really,” says Naomi, intrigued.  “Do you know of such things?  They exist?”

With a ‘what a stupid question’ look, Tweelak replies, “Yes.”

The party moves quickly down the leftmost exit from the chamber.  They explore a few chambers sets with matted sea weed- they assume these are beds- before stumbling upon a room with three sahuagin in a circle.  

There isn’t an instant of hesitation as our heroes rush to the attack.  Whatever three sahuagins are doing in a circle, it’s unlikely to be good.  The party strikes them down.  Later, when they come back to search, our heroes will discern that the sea devils were gambling.  For now, they leave the chamber unsearched and hurry on.  They are all too aware that the clock is ticking with their _water breathing!_

The passage continues, and they follow; but soon a chamber branches off to the side.  Naomi moves through the arch leading to it and feels a blast of cold!  Cursing to herself, she shivers and looks around. 

Clearly, she has found the sahuagin armory.  Tridents of bone, nets of woven seaweed, underwater crossbows, daggers and knives- if sahuagin were smaller, this would be a gold mine for our heroes!  As it is, it is somewhat disappointing, especially when nothing radiates magic.

Moving on past the armory, our heroes stumble into the jaws of trouble.

So to speak.

Its name is Tzalraugh.

_*Next Time:*_ Tzalraugh, servant of Sekolah!  It wants to eat you, you plump little morsel!!

*Cetaceans are not technically animals in my campaign, as their intelligence is above 2.  This means that druids technically can’t _wild shape_ into them, which was a surprising thing for me to realize when Ari tried to turn into a porpoise at this point.  (Cydran dolphins are actually a playable race when I run aquatic games.  Whales, especially large baleen whales, are known for their wisdom and insight.  Cetacean culture is pretty interesting- dolphins and merellin are generally considered to be the “good guys of the sea.”


----------



## the Jester

*Tzalraugh*

The passage widens, growing ever wider as the party swims down it.  Soon it widens into a huge chamber with a high ceiling.  The coral is shaped or carved into a series of benches in four levels up the wall, all overlooking what has the look of some kind of arena.  Dominating the scene- though only the deep halflings can see it at this point- is a horrendous monster.

It is _huge._  Its body is nearly twenty feet long, built along the lines of a shark but with some differences.  Its fins end in jagged spurs.  Its tail has a jagged, vicious look to it.  Its eyes glow an infernal orange color.  Its great mouth could engulf a human, and it gnashes its razor-sharp teeth and roars a challenge as our heroes swim to a halt with it in view.

Tweewak attacks!  He can’t see it, but his echolocation has found his target anyway.  Propelling himself forward, the merellin smashes into the creature, but he rebounds to a surprising extent.  “Beware, it’s hideous!” he cries.

Then, the hapless merellin feels the immense jaw of the devil-shark crush down on him.  Terrible agony flares through him as, in a single crushing bite, the monster slays the merellin.  As Federico moves close enough to see the thing with his darkvision, he gapes in horror as it gulps half of the merellin’s body down.  Nara is moving forward, her morningstar glowing with _light_.  Federico yells out, “It’s some kind of mutant shark!”  Snickering, he starts to jape and joke, inspiring his allies with courage. 

Nara stops her advance (as most of our heroes have done) as the _light_ starts to pick out a cloud of scarlet swirling in the water.  _Both merellin are gone,_ she realizes with a shudder.  _We need some bodies here._  She begins an involved prayer to Coila, summoning a trio of fiendish sharks of her own that swim forward to engage the huge monster.

Tzalraugh is its name.

It is not the smartest creature on the block, but it certainly is the hungriest.  It is a grandchild of Sekolah the Great Shark himself.  And it wants nothing more than _to devour._  And look at this little collection of bite-sized morsels!  Tzalraugh’s dim intellect determines immediately that they are too small to pose a real thread; first it will devour the inferior shark-scum aiding the little snacks.  At least they have teeth.

Naomi starts blasting at the devil-shark with her mental powers, but to her dismay she finds that it is resistant to psionics.  Federico has a similar bit of frustration with his _wand of magic missiles,_ which fires a single glowing blip of force that splatters off Tzalraugh’s resistance like water off a duck.  It finishes off Nara’s fiendish sharks and flicks its tail.  It shoots forward, mouth gaping, and Nara kicks madly to swim away in time.  Its teeth crush down on her, breaking ribs and bringing more red fluid into the water.  She gasps and cries out in pain.  But she has prepared an _inflict wounds_ spell and now she touches Tzalraugh as he is right next to her.  Her spell strikes through the monster’s resistance, opening a serious wound.

Naomi glares at the devil shark, grimly blasting away mentally.  Ari, Erasmuz and Federico start to flee, but they realize instantly that the shark-thing will out swim them with ease.  Desperately hoping to find an escape, Federico casts _detect secret doors_ as he swims back.  To his delight, the chamber at the far end of the hall- one of the bed chambers- seems to have a secret passage in the floor!  He yells for the others, scrabbling at the trap door- and to his dismay he finds that it is only a small compartment with some hidden treasure.  “Never mind!” he cries in frustration, turning back towards the fight.  

Nara has slipped away from Tzalraugh thanks to the _freedom of movement_ she cast at the beginning of the caves.  Now she retreats, and Erasmuz suddenly finds himself in the rear.  “Hey, buddy, don’t leave me here alone!” he cries.  He pulls out his rapier, shaking with fear, as Tzalraugh charges and its great maw chomps down on him.  He has been spending the last few moments activating all the protections he has, though- and it is enough to deflect the blow from him.  Quivering, he pokes the creature with his rapier- and it doesn’t even get through Tzalraugh’s hide.  _Damage reduction,_ the shaven-headed halfling thinks sickly.

Well, all is not lost.

He manages to cast a spell without lowering his guard, and suddenly his rapier glows with magic.  The next time he pokes it, he draws blood... albeit not much.*

Naomi stops her retreat, hesitant to leave even the creepy old guy behind.  He’s a halfling, after all!  But she has barely been able to harm the monster so far... and underwater, fire magic won’t work- will it?  Desperate to try anything, she pulls out the _wand of fireballs_ taken from the serpent-folk who slew Sandy, Beau and Lundey and points it at the devil-shark.  Focusing all her mental energy, she concentrates- 

Nothing.

Cursing, she starts moving forward.  At least she has her _energy retort_ when it bites her.  And she _can’t_ leave Erasmuz behind.**  

Nara, meanwhile, is firing _sound bursts_ that splatter off Tzalraugh’s native resistance.***  Groaning at the ineffectiveness of it all, she starts healing her wounds and bracing herself to go back into battle.  Once she’s in reasonable shape- that bite is _vicious!_- she swims back to the melee.  

Tzalraugh and Erasmuz are having a time of it.  The devil-shark finds the deflective and guarding magic and psionics around the halfling very frustrating, while Erasmuz finds the blow that gets through now and then frighteningly dangerous.  He’s bleeding from two major wounds, losing strength fast; but he has pricked his foe several times now.  When the two girls come up and begin aiding him, he starts to land more blows than before, and then he gets the one that _really_ counts- a swift jab through the eye and into the brain!  Tzalraugh thrashes for a few more moments, but it is clearly in its death throes.  Nara, Naomi and Erasmuz retreat for a few moments while it dies.  Then the group reassembles.

“That thing was _tough,_” exclaims Erasmuz.  

The party is wounded and low on spells.  Nara uses the _wand of cure serious wounds_ that Sandy had for so long to heal the party most of the way up, and then the group decides to leave.  

“We should search on the way back,” Federico opines.  “I already found a little treasure.”

The group agrees to this sensible suggestion, examining the bodies of the sahuagin already slain and the rooms explored.  From the secret compartment they take 28 gold pieces and a silver necklace.  Another chamber has a whalebone comb and a silver dagger within it.  Many of the sea devils the party has slain have a few coins on them.  A couple have gems- pearls or, in one case, opals.  The shark-rider’s trident radiates magic, so our heroes take that as well.  Nara, as a prophet, performs a few _auguries_ on unexplored areas, trying to gain a clue or two as to the location of the captives the sahuagin have taken.  Then they return to the _Proud Pentor_ to recuperate.

When they speak to Weeweerinwee he begs them to keep trying.  “Pleeeeease,” the whale implores, “you must help meeeeeeeeee find theeem.”

The party, in turn, speaks to the captain, who is plainly very nervous about the prospects of remaining in sahuagin-infested waters.  Again, Weeweerinwee offers to stay close enough to keep an eye on things.   Finally, the party successfully persuades the captain to stay one more day.

Rest ensues.

_*Next time:*_ Our heroes find some captives!


*Tell us Erasmuz’ strength score, Brain. 

**There we see the Lawful part of Naomi’s LE alignment come out. 

***Though it sounds like he had really good SR, it wasn’t really all that hot.  But a lot of our heroes have low caster levels, and they rolled crap all night iirc.


----------



## Brain

the Jester said:
			
		

> He manages to cast a spell without lowering his guard, and suddenly his rapier glows with magic.  The next time he pokes it, he draws blood... albeit not much.*
> 
> *Tell us Erasmuz’ strength score, Brain.




Erasmuz has a Strength of 10 and is armed with a small rapier.  I think with Divine Favor and Magic weapon he was doing 1d4+3 damage.  Got a couple of crits in (thanks to 18-20 crit range) and coaxed the girls to come back and help me out.  Now Erasmuz has something real to brag about (standing up to the devil-shark) rather than making up his exploits.


----------



## hippiejedi2

Nara was able to escape Tzalraugh because she had freedom of movement and boots of haste.


----------



## the Jester

_*11/24/369 O.L.G., 9 a.m., the sahuagin lair*_

It is unsettling, being deep underwater.  Halflings are not made for such things.  Nonetheless, our heroes are back in the underwater cave, continuing their search for the captive elves and mermaid.  Ari grows more uncomfortable the longer they stay in the area, yet he cannot persuade the others that they should depart, so he continues to stand by his friends.  

The party is continuing to explore the wandering caves, searching several branches they had left unexplored previously.  Soon Federico announces that he has found a secret door, and our heroes open it.  Beyond is a shaft leading up; and near the top, it breaks into an air bubble.  Quietly, Erasmuz swims forward- there is land over there, and he hears voices-

Suddenly a bolt whizzes past his head.  They’ve heard him, or seen him!  He manifests his _force screen_ to protect himself.  

Our heroes are at a disadvantage, for the sahuagin are on a jet of land and can defend it, keeping higher ground.  After they fire their crossbows, the drop them and pull out their tridents.  Federico hits one with a _sleep_ spell.  Ari, below, has begun his patented summoning barrage.  

Naomi rises to the top of the water and pulls forth the _wand of fireballs._  Now that they are in the air, she can make it work just fine!  She points it, then hesitates.  Unless she throws the ball pretty far back, she’s going to roast her friends as well.  And pretty far back- she squints- there is something huddled against the wall.

She grimaces, raises her other hand and unleashes a crystal swarm instead.

The battle is fierce.  One of the sahuagin, in particular, is extraordinarily tough, both larger and stronger than the others- all of whom are fairly tough themselves.  At one point the leader nearly pins Federico all the way through with his trident!*  The kobold howls mournfully and keeps japing about fish-folk, staggering back another few paces before collapsing unconscious.  One bull rushes Erasmuz into the water with a huge splash, following him in and tearing and raking at the little deep halfling.  Still, Erasmuz’ magic and psionic defenses serve him well; he withstands most of the blows, and in moments the sahuagin collapses into unconsciousness.  Soon the battle is over, and our heroes have triumphed.

The huddled forms on the other side of the air-filled chamber are a pair of elves.  One of them is alive, shivering in terror, and has been reduced to helplessness.  The other is dead, eyes wide in horror, large bite marks taken from the corpse.  Ari looks down impassively, then brushes the elf’s eyes shut.

The party heals both themselves and the elf.  Then, quickly, Ari casts another _water breathing,_ this one to safeguard the surviving elf.  The party moves quickly, tugging him to his feet and pulling him over to the water.  Though reluctant to move and fearful, the elf is far more reluctant to stay.  Soon the group is swimming cautiously back towards the _Proud Pentor_.  When they arrive, the sailors grin in surprised joy that they have rescued one of the elves captured by the sea devils- usually, the sahuagins’ victims are lost once they are taken, devoured by the devil men of the deep or their shark companions.

“Did yooooouuuu fiiiiiiiiind the mermaid?” Weeweerinwee asks.

Ari’s face falls.  “No, and I don’t know if we dare go back in there.  They must be ready for us- we’ve killed a number of them, and I’m sure they’ll be out for revenge.”

“I slew haaaaalf of them myseeeeeelf,” the whale replies.  “There cannot be toooooo many moooore.”

“Still, I think we should leave-“

“No way, buddy!” Erasmuz replies.  “I think we should rescue the mermaid.  I’ve never met a mermaid before.”

“Well, the danger-“

“We’re cleaning them up,” Nara comments. 

“But the sharks-“

“We can handle the sharks, buddy!  Why, we even took out the devil-shark!”

Ari shakes his head.  “It’s a bad idea,” he announces.  “They are going to be ready for us.”

“We probably already killed their chief in that last fight,” points out Nara.  “And we’ve already explored lots of the coral caves.  How much more can there be?”

Ari sighs.  “Grey Jorn?”

Grey Jorn purses his lips thoughtfully.  “So far the whale has kept all the trouble away from us,” he says.  “I don’t see why we can’t stay until dark.”

Ari shakes his head again.  _We’re going to regret this,_ he thinks.

Our heroes return to the sea.  Silvery fish flit past them.  An octopus, changing color to match its background, clings to a mussel-encrusted rock.  Anemones wave their tendrils, pulling their tiny food in.  The party has a little over an hour of _water breathing_ left when they reach the sahuagin coral lair again.

Back in they go, swimming along the passages they have not yet explored.  Here and there fish dart one way or another within the lair of the sea devils.  Soon they enter a room dominated by a shark’s jawbone and teeth, gaping wide enough for a human to stand in upright.  Strange bluish balls of seaweed dangle from it, dancing in the gentle currents stirred by the passage of the halflings (and kobold).  

And, perhaps, stirred by the room’s inhabitants.

With a snap of its flippers, a giant snapping turtle swims forward towards the party!  Nara stumbles away from it, but its sharp beak slices into her ankle, leaving her hamstrung!** A disturbance in the water moves towards them as well.*** As always, Erasmuz starts initiating a series of defenses, while Ari begins to _summon nature’s ally_.  Also true to form, Federico starts japing and telling jokes about silly turtles and turning them over so they cook in the sun (“they’re so tasty,” he adds) to inspire courage in his companions.

Nara, dismayed at the damage she has already taken, casts _cure moderate wounds_ defensively.  As her goddess favors negative energy over positive, she cannot spontaneously heal; she hopes that this will be enough to stave off the turtle’s attacks!  Indeed, its next bite takes a chunk from her shoulder, but it is nowhere near as bad as the first blow.  With a grimace she makes another defensive casting, this time channeling an _inflict serious wounds_ on the turtle.  It gives a rasping cry and begins to withdraw.  

Erasmuz, meanwhile, has unleashed a flurry of misses on the water elemental, and though he has been unable to land a blow on it, it has been unable to land a blow on him in turn.  Then Ari’s summoned sharks appear and begin to tear at the watery distortion.  Erasmuz takes advantage of the momentary distraction to swim away and poke at the turtle with his rapier.

It takes a while, but our heroes defeat the elemental with a combination of sharks, squids and old fashioned pokes.  Soon they are clear to search.  They turn up a salvaged, corroded chest holding 545 gp and 230 sp.  Furthermore, the blue balls dangling from the shark’s jaw radiate faint magic- which the party only checks for after Erasmuz has pierced one and watched it deflate.  “These guys have pretty decent loot, at least,” comments Federico.

”We’re not here for the loot, we’re here for the mermaid,” Ari reminds the kobold.  

The party moves on...

_*Next Time:*_ The conclusion of the sahuagin adventure!  The mermaid!  And- rewards?


*30 hp in one blow.  Ow!!

**The first action of the battle and it was a critical hit for *42 points of damage.*  Ouch!  (When converting the giant snapping turtle I gave it the Augmented Critical special attack for x3 damage.)

***This was a water elemental.  I rule that an elemental is effectively invisible when immersed in its element (i.e. its hard to see a water elemental underwater).


----------



## Brain

Erasmuz poked the sphere in the spirit of Chief Jawbreaker's classic "poke it with a stick" maneuver.  

Cool update!


----------



## omrob

*Edits from the Jester PC*

Just a few notes about the sea devil fight. 

Before Federico got clobbered by the big guy, the trident weilding bastard fumbled some kind of magic necklace thing. Federico spent his next turn grabbing it and tossing it in the drink. That really enraged it : ) 

Then he managed to get back and heal himself w/o dropping out. 

He also peppered the Water Elemental with some good ole Ray of Frosts! 

As you can tell he's the master of  0 and 1 st lvl spells at this point.


----------



## the Jester

*The Mermaid Rescue!*

Our heroes swim on through the coral caves of the sahuagin.  One of the three prisoners they are seeking remains unaccounted for: the mermaid (and Erasmuz seems possessed with a strange fixation on her).  For the sake of their whale friend Weeweerinwee, our heroes push through the fear of destruction, the fear of becoming a shark’s meal or eaten alive (perhaps like the one elven prisoner who was already dead).  They must find and rescue the mermaid- they must!

Departing the chamber with the turtle and the elemental in it- there are no other exits from it- the halflings return to the last intersection, which had four passages, one of which they came from originally and one of which they have just explored.  That leaves two passages- and one of them ends in a door made from some sort of huge sand dollar shell.  Naturally, they choose that one. 

Throwing the door open, they find- a long hallway.  They begin swimming down it, but gradually a stench enters the water.  Our heroes falter, and then fall back.  “If she’s in here, she’s probably already dead,” Ari remarks, wrinkling his nose.  

“We can come back here if we need to,” Erasmuz points out. 

They retreat to the intersection and go the only way they have not explored.  This quickly opens onto a terrible scene- over a half-dozen sahuagin, clustered around the mermaid they seek!  She squirms in her chains, clutching herself against the wall.  They are badgering her in some deliquescent tongue.  

H.A.M., the Halfling Action Militia, goes into action.

The sahuagin are many, but Ari evens the odds with his summonings.  Nara summons a fiendish shark to join the fun before wading in with her morningstar, and Erasmuz throws caution to the winds and enlarges himself to match their size!

Though most of the sahuagin seem to be the usual brand of devil man of the deep, one of their number reveals that he has more formidable talents as he begins casting spells at our heroes, starting with a _chill metal_ that all of our heroes resist.  They are mighty little halflings (well, Erasmuz is big _right now_, but in general...) and will not easily fall!  In fact, soon, with the aid of the mass of summoned sharks and squid, the battle crescendos, and the sea devils are thrown down!

“Oh thank the Queen!” the mermaid cries, speaking in Strogassian.  “Please, will you release me?  You have saved me from a terrible fate!”

“Of course we’ll release you,” exclaims Nara.  Erasmuz can’t stop staring at the mermaid.

Soon they have released her from bondage, and they hurriedly swim out.  Weeweerinwee is overjoyed to see his friend, Pelrose, swimming alive and unmaimed!  They communicate for a few long moments in the strange-sounding songs of the whales, and then Pelrose calls up to our heroes.  

“I would like to reward you, if I can,” she tells them.  Her offer is tempting, especially to Erasmuz: if they can come to her underwater city she can give them a few items salvaged from a shipwreck.

“An underwater city!”  Ari’s eyes are as big as saucers.

“Is this a city of mermaids?” asks Erasmuz, and Pelrose admits that it is.  “We should do it,” he insists.  “How often do you get a chance to hang out with a city of mermaids?”

“That is true,” Ari admits.  “We’re agreed that we are done here, then?”  There is a general murmur of assent.  

“Well, how far away is it?” Nara asks.  “And it’s not towards Dyshim, is it?  We don’t want to go backwards.”

Pelrose and Grey Jorn discuss this, as they use rather different navigational markers.  Eventually, the grizzled first mate decides that the detour would cost about two days.  “It’s west by northwest,” he announces, “while Zacradose is more or less south by southwest.”

Digesting this, our heroes mull whether to change course.  “I think the problem may be convincing the captain,” Nara remarks.  Even now the sailors are doing all the sailor things they do, unfurling and such, while they prepare to set sail.  Sandy probably would have understood some of it- but none of the present party do.  To them, it is background noise, but with meaning: if they mean to take a side trip, they must decide.

After a few moments of debate, they approach Grey Jorn with their proposed diversion.  In turn, he discusses the matter with the captain and then makes the party an offer.  “We’ll do it for half of the reward,” he declares.  Our heroes grumble but give in; after all, half a reward is better than none.  

***

_*11/26/369 O.L.G., 4 p.m., the mermaid village*_

The mermaid village (whatever Pelrose may think, her people do not make up a city) is a fascinating place with small houses made of rock, shell and wood taken from shipwrecks.  There are fifteen mermaids- and one merman, who is sullen and sulky while the halflings are present- in the village.  Our heroes learn a few very interesting things about mermaids (and mermen) from conversing to all of the ‘sisters.’

First of all, mermaids outnumber mermen significantly- the village is a fairly representative group.*  Far more interesting, it becomes apparent that there are different breeds of merfolk.  Of the mermaids, 8 have human upper bodies, but the rest do not.  Five of them are of elven blood and one each are of halfling and orcish stock.  

“Orcish!” exclaims Nara in surprise.  The mermaid, despite her heritage, is actually kind of attractive. 

“Halfling!” exclaims Erasmuz, rubbing his hands together in pleasure.**  

“How did that happen?” Ari inquires. 

“Oh, it was after the shipwreck- my mother was with one of the halflings.”

“A _halfling_ shipwreck?” he blinks.

“Yes,” Pelrose interjects.  “That’s part of the reward.”

***

The shipwreck, past the Dolorous Rift (which gives forth intoxicating vapors; supposedly David, the merman, spends a lot of time out there, as the ladies prefer other humanoids), is old and covered in sea-scum.  When our heroes go within its hulk to seek any loot they might find, they find a terrible creature with four long, whipping tails.  It begins advancing towards them and an aura of _slow_ comes before it!  It bites at Nara, who makes a futile attempt to _bestow curse_ on it, and then switches to channeling _inflict serious wounds_.  This proves more efficacious, and soon the creature falls back with a loud cry.  Ari, as he usually does, plays the summoning card, and soon the terrible monster is beset by a pair of sharks.  

Erasmuz, attempting a flurry of blows at the monster, lands several hits that do no damage.  Realizing it has damage reduction, he falls back and casts a _spiritual weapon_ torn from the bosom of Fensor, which proves able to damage the thing as well.  He then begins initiating defensive abilities as the horrid monster darts forward, lashing him with its four tails!  Blood clouds the water as the melee continues.  

The sharks tear into the beast, continuing to damage it, and our heroes fall back for a moment to heal and regroup.  Then, in a stunning act of teamwork, Erasmuz manages to stun it and Nara finishes it off with another _inflict moderate wounds._

***

The loot proves interesting but, at least for the moment, stymieing.  There is some sort of sealed barrel and a box that they cannot seem to open.  

“Maybe when we get to Zacradose,” suggests Nara, “we will find someone who can open it for us.”

Indeed, once they reach Zacradose they do indeed.  The barrel holds a substance that proves to be a sealant that is completely waterproof (and obviously, given the nature of the barrel itself’s treatment, permanent) when applied.  It does not seem suitable for thinner things (such as paper), but rather for thicker objects.  The party ascertains that it must be heated to become thin enough to apply.

They also find a wizard for hire.  He both _knocks_ open the tenacious chest and _identifies_ the items that the party has acquired that are magical.  They split a few things up and try to get a feel for the local culture.

One thing that they learn very quickly is that they must change their coins for the local currency (and pay a surcharge of 6%***).  Failure to do so renders their money liable to confiscation.  Grumbling, our heroes exchange a few coins for ‘Stacklers’.  

“Gold Stacklers.”  Ari shakes his head mournfully.

_*Next Time:*_ The Ruined Keep of the Small Folk!


*For the record, mermaids outnumber mermen 16:1 in Cydra.

** He tries hard during their visit, but he fails to get into her, er, fins.

***This actually answers one of the nagging questions the halfling party has had.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Great end to the Sahuagin cave adventure.  And who can fault Ari for going after a mermaid?  Those mermaids are hot!


----------



## the Jester

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Great end to the Sahuagin cave adventure.  And who can fault Ari for going after a mermaid?  Those mermaids are hot!




In my campaign, as a race, they are nicknamed 'slutfish.'

(This is largely due to their reproductive habits, hinted at in the preceding update.)


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

the Jester said:
			
		

> In my campaign, as a race, they are nicknamed 'slutfish.'
> 
> (This is largely due to their reproductive habits, hinted at in the preceding update.)




Gotta love those nicknames!


----------



## Brain

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Great end to the Sahuagin cave adventure.  And who can fault Ari for going after a mermaid?  Those mermaids are hot!



Erasmuz was the one who went after a mermaid.  Although it doesn't show in the story hour, I had trouble convincing Ari to stick around for the underwater stuff.  He kept wanting to leave for Zacradose.


----------



## hippiejedi2

Nara _detected poison_ on the barrel containing the sealant. The substance turned out to be not poisonous, so she gave it a little taste. It did not taste very good, in fact she had to double down on meals just to get the resinous taste out of her mouth.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

hippiejedi2 said:
			
		

> Nara _detected poison_ on the barrel containing the sealant. The substance turned out to be not poisonous, so she gave it a little taste. It did not taste very good, in fact she had to double down on meals just to get the resinous taste out of her mouth.




Good thing it didn't seal her mouth shut!  That could have been somewhat entertaining though...a halfling that can't eat because her mouth is glued shut.  Hahaha!


----------



## Brain

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Good thing it didn't seal her mouth shut!  That could have been somewhat entertaining though...a halfling that can't eat because her mouth is glued shut.  Hahaha!



Thats straight out of a halfling nightmare.


----------



## the Jester

*The Ruined Keep of the Small Folk*

_*12/12/369 O.L.G., 3 p.m., Zacradose*_

Rain and mud; those are the two pieces of the environment most necessary to conveying our heroes’ current experience.  But who knows how long until some Zacradosian hound picks up their trail?  If they are to follow up on the rumor they have heard, they cannot wait the winter out.

Just whispers, the word “prophecy” in conjunction with an old halfling ruin- but it is enough to entice our heroes out.  The so-called Halfling Prophecy, told to them by a water weird and tattooed on Naomi’s inner thigh, promises great things- cows that give cream, just to give one example.  Any clue, any hint must be followed up on.  Paradise itself might be at stake!

So it is that our heroes slog through the mud as they mount an old motte, heading up to a walled ruined keep.  The portcullis is down but askew; our heroes slip easily past it and into a large courtyard.  The main castle dominates the yard, and there are three additional outbuildings (one of which looks to be a stable, one a privy, and one some sort of shed) and a well.  The rain comes down in sheets.  

“Let’s check out the outbuidlings first,” suggests Martini.  The others agree, and our heroes begin with the stables.  There are no garen, though old straw is scattered about and the loft appears to have old hay bales up in it.  The sound of squeaking is evident from the shadows of the loft.  A rickety, unsafe-looking staircase heads up into the loft.  

“I wonder if anything’s up there,” muses Martini.  

“The stairs don’t look safe,” points out Ari.

“Hmm... I’m pretty light.”  Martini shifts his 40 pounds around a bit.  “I have to try.”

When the stairs, predictably, give way beneath him, Martini bangs his shins up a little, but he rises with a chuckle.  “All right,” he concedes, “I guess I knew that was going to happen.”

Ari, meanwhile, speaks to a tumorous rat.  After a period of squeaking, he tells the others, “The rat seems to think we want to put them on a stick and eat them.  I tried to reassure him, but he was terrified of us.”

Our heroes move on and check the well, as it is on the way to the other outbuildings.  There is a bucket and fresh water below.  Glancing at the ruins of the castle itself, Erasmuz murmurs, “I wonder if there’s anyone in there now.”

The party next looks in on the shed.  Though long abandoned, and now choked with weeds, there are a few basic halfling-sized tools in the mess within- a shovel, a rake, etc.  Leaving these old, brittle relics behind, our heroes move on to the privy.  Naomi glances within and reports that there is a huge mound of ancient stuff below, with some more recent excrement on top.  Our heroes glance at each other.  It seems there _is_ someone here now, or at least someone has been here recently. 

Into the main castle our heroes go.  As they enter, however, a strange growl greets them.  The halflings stare in horror at the two monsters in cages on the far side of the room- hideous things, with the bodies of lions, great dragon-wings, spikey tails and weird, human-like faces.  

There’s a strange sound as both creatures flex their tails and snap them forward, and suddenly spikes are flying everywhere through the air.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes do battle against other small folk!


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Beware the manticore-keeping wee ones!  I'm looking forward to the next update.


----------



## the Jester

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Beware the manticore-keeping wee ones!  I'm looking forward to the next update.




Just as an aside, my first pc kill in 3e was with a manticore.  Bit his head clean off.


Ahh, that was Forest Monk.


----------



## the Jester

*Against Other Wee Folk!*

Martini gives a cry of pain as spikes slam into him, piercing his chest.  He growls and returns fire, filling one of the monsters with arrows.  It is already wounded from Ari’s assault; now it slumps down with a gentle moan.  But then a small figure moves furitively in the shadows, and there’s a sudden *BOOM!* as it points a wand and some kind of force blast explodes forth.  

“Trouble!” shouts Nara.

Then a gnome springs forth, slicing at Ari with a longsword.  He hacks into the halfling’s belly.  “Hey!” Ari bellows, staggering back.  Suddenly one of the other corners of the room reveals yet another gnome, this one female, chanting a _bane_ upon our heroes.  

Meanwhile, the remaining spike-tail monster collapses as Naomi blasts it with a powerful _mind thrust._  Then she turns to glare at the gnomes.  “Save their noses, they’re a delicacy!” she cries.  With a cry of rage, another gnome pours arrows into her, and she gasps as blood splatters all around her.  Another _mind thrust,_ though, and the tough-looking fighter gnome falls to one knee.  Martini sinks another volley of arrows into the wand-wielder- who proves to be a kobold- and Ari suddenly becomes a bear and starts grappling the swordsgnome.  Jawbreaker moves in to help hold the gnome in the grapple, but he is clearly not going to stop struggling.  He squirms, seeking escape, and Ari loses his temper.  With the strength of a bear, it’s easy to tear the gnome limb from limb; soon the poor fellow’s screams choke off.  

But then the cleric throws some sort of flask that explodes in a massive blast of flame!  Though our heroes are clearly winning the battle, it may not be without cost.  Naomi groans in pain, while Erasmuz dances away.  “Hey, buddy, that’s not cool!” he exclaims.  

“I agree,” groans Naomi, who is swaying on her feet.  She hits the gnome with a _recall agony,_ but she shrugs it off.

Martini’s fingers are a blur as he finishes off both the gnome archer and the kobold.  Then he turns to see Jawbreaker being blasted back as the sole remaining gnome- the cleric- reads a scroll of _sound burst_ at him.  There is a sound like a burst of thunder, but the barbarian shakes his head clear and struggles forward.

“There’s no need for this!” cries the gnome.  “I can give you information!  I surrender!”

“We talk to skulls,” remarks Naomi with a wicked smile.  

Then Jawbreaker swings the flat of his cold iron blade against the gnome’s head.  She sees stars, reeling back, but manages to avoid losing consciousness.  

“Let’s take her alive!” Naomi says with a laugh.

She groans a prayer to Bleak and touches Jawbreaker, and he cries out.  “Can’t see!  _Blind!!!_”  He swings wildly, unseeing, but he knows where she is.  There’s a jarring crash as he connects, and the gnome flies into the wall and slumps to the base.  Jawbreaker swings blindly again in front of him.  

“You got her, buddy, you got her,” Erasmuz reassures him.

“Jawbreaker blind!” wails the Chief.

“I can help you with that, buddy- yeah, I can,” Erasmuz offers.

“Yes, help Jawbreaker!  Jawbreaker was blind before, for many days!  Had to find stupid water in stupid spring!”  

“No problem, buddy!”  Cheerfully, the little bald halfling concentrates, taking the energy he needs, and in moments Jawbreaker can see again.  

“What god you worship?” Jawbreaker asks.

“What?”  Erasmuz seems nonplussed by the question.

“You cleric, right?  You heal?  Cleric have god, right?  So who you worship?”

“Uh- yeah, sure, buddy.”  Erasmuz tries to change the subject. 

“Why you not want to say?” Jawbreaker asks, pondering.  “Maybe- you have god that not want to be named?”

“You could say that, yeah,” Erasmuz grins.

“Well,” says Nara, “let’s look around a little.”

They find something that they never, in a thousand years, would have expected.

_*Next Time:*_ A blast from the past, locked in a cage!


----------



## omrob

*All caught up in Cydra*



			
				the Jester said:
			
		

> Just as an aside, my first pc kill in 3e was with a manticore.  Bit his head clean off.
> 
> Ahh, that was Forest Monk.




I thought it was Graunch my Half orc barbarian that got "hugged" by an Owlbear - but I could be wrong...

All caught up on the 3 campaigns now - wheew - great stuff kidz.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

the Jester said:
			
		

> “Well,” says Nara, “let’s look around a little.”
> 
> They find something that they never, in a thousand years, would have expected.
> 
> _*Next Time:*_ A blast from the past, locked in a cage!




So what is it?  What's in the cage?  The suspense is killing me (it's a surprise that I'm not dead yet as I've been waiting nearly a month to find out )!


----------



## Brain

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> So what is it?  What's in the cage?  The suspense is killing me (it's a surprise that I'm not dead yet as I've been waiting nearly a month to find out )!




the Jester is off at Burning Man this week, so I suppose the suspense will continue to build.


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

Friendly bump and request for more updates!


----------



## the Jester

OaxacanWarrior said:
			
		

> Friendly bump and request for more updates!




Okay- I promise one by the end of the coming week! 

It's hard work, decompressing from Burning Man, but hey, I'm gettin' through it.     You'll notice I haven't updated much in about a month- that's my prep, burn time and post-burn decompression...


----------



## OaxacanWarrior

the Jester said:
			
		

> Okay- I promise one by the end of the coming week!
> 
> It's hard work, decompressing from Burning Man, but hey, I'm gettin' through it.     You'll notice I haven't updated much in about a month- that's my prep, burn time and post-burn decompression...




Wahoo!  I can't wait for the updates.  How did Burning Man go for you?  I've never been but it sounds very interesting...


----------



## the Jester

Aargh... so much for the end of the week.

It's short, but hopefully it whets the appetite.  I'll be getting back to this thread once more before I'm out of material- we haven't played the halfling group for a while, as we've been focused on the low-magic campaign experiment first.

Anyway:

***

“Oh, help!  Oh, my gods, help me!”

“It’s impossible,” whispers Martini.

The halflings have thrown open a door only to find a large cage.  Within it is a single scrawny form, half-starved from the look of her.

“M-Martini?”

“You know her?” asks Nara.

“I do,” Martini saws, hurrying forward to the cage.  The others trundle along behind him.  “This is Ed... Airhead Ed!”

“Help,” the prisoner peeps again.  “I’m so weak... they leave me in here for days at a time without food...”  She groans.

“Days without food!” Jawbreaker explodes.  “They very bad!  That not nice!!”  And Erazmus picks open the lock and Airhead Ed Flapjacks takes a few staggering steps out of the cage.  Ari and Nara push the gnome that the group captured into the cage and then re-lock it. 

“Wait a second, Airhead Ed?  Aren’t there always people trying to hunt her down and stuff?” Naomi objects.

“Shh,” Martini soothes Ed, ignoring his fat friend.  “It’s going to be all right, Ed... it’s going to be all right.”

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes search out more of the ruined keep, question Ed and the gnome, and find the fabled promised land!  (Or do they?)


----------



## the Jester

The group of small heroes begins exploring the ruined keep in earnest, now that the main threat facing them has been dealt with (at least, as far as they can tell).  Airhead Ed, though weak, accompanies them; she is currently too weak to blather or spout drama.  _She’ll be back to her normal self soon enough,_ thinks Martini bemusedly.  

The upper level of the keep is burned out and unstable.  The group finds no valuables or items of note.  Fortunately, even though some of them might be stout for a halfling, none of them weigh enough to cause the rubble to collapse or shift disastrously.  A few stones shift a little bit here and there, but on the whole the party does not disturb anything noteworthy.

They do, of course, find a hidden stair hewn from the living rock of the foundation.  It leads them downward, into a series of natural caverns.  Chief Jawbreaker leads the way, weapon at the ready.  Our heroes have been in the Underdark; they are all too aware of the potential hazards to be found below ground.

When something begins scrabbling out of a nest of rubble, the party collectively tenses.  A long centipede, its body longer than a halfling’s and as thick as Naomi’s chubby arm, skitters free and begins skittering towards the group.

Ari gestures and calls out to nature in a loud, firm voice.  There is a white-hot blast of flame and the bug is blasted to oblivion by the druid’s _flame strike._

“Impressive, buddy,” Erasmuz declares. 

The party starts walking along the left wall of the cave.  Soon an opening gapes; a side passage awaits.  Jawbreaker leads the way, and then something wet falls on him from above.

“Rarggh!” he cries is dismay.  

“Green slime!” screams Ed in dismay.

Jawbreaker roars in pain as the slime starts rapidly growing along his body.  He begins to writhe and twist, but there is no enemy to strike, nowhere to run.  He takes a single, staggering step.  

“Flame!” cries Ed.  “Try flame!”

Jawbreaker gives out a wordless howl.  Nara struggles to find a torch, then finally pulls one out and lights it.  _I wish I hadn’t used my _flame strike, thinks Ari.

Nara’s torch blazes to life, and Jawbreaker yet struggles.  _It’s not too late!_ Nara thinks.  The cleric rushes to him and starts applying the torch.  Chief Jawbreaker yells again, gritting his teeth against the touch of the flames, but the slime blackens and gives off a foul smell where the torch touches it.  In another moment the slime has been charred to ash, and Jawbreaker moans, wounded but alive.  

“Close,” the Chief gasps.

“We should probably rest,” Nara opines.  “Then I can heal you, and maybe Ed will be in better shape.”  The others agree.

Then, nearby, Erasmuz’ voice floats out of another side passage.  “Hey, buddies, I think you better come over here!”  He sounds excited.

“What is it?” asks Ari, walking to the cave- and stopping with a start.  Then he walks into the cave, a look of wonder on his face.

“What is it?” wonders Ari.

Nara’s head pokes out of the cave entrance.  “Come check it out!  I think it’s a shrine to some kind of halfling goddess!  And- there’s food.”

_*Next Time:*_ The false promised land!


----------



## the Jester

Let me just say that I am _incredibly_ glad that I write my story hours up in Word before posting them these days... 

My plan: one post per day (in one or more of my SH threads) until the old posts are all back in place, and then more- presumably by that time, I'll have a few new ones written and be able to leapfrog forward...


----------



## the Jester

A feast before the shrine of some long-forgotten halfling god.  The smells of delicious food, the sounds of merry laughter and conversation.  Our heroes are in a rare state of bliss, the politics of Dyshim and Zacradose forgotten, their periodic troubles with the Peachtrees put far out of mind.  Very little could make the occasion better.  Very little- except the promised land that the weird’s prophecy had seemingly promised them.  Naomi glances at the varicose veins surrounding the tattoo of the prophecy on her thigh and thinks about it as she gnaws a leg of lamb.  

_Is it _my_ promised land?_ she wonders.  _My folk are not like other halflings..._ 

Airhead Ed eats and eats, but then falls into a brooding state.  She and Naomi stare at each other, and each feels an itching at their mind.  

Federico japes and jokes, amusing everyone, but he cannot help but feel somewhat out of place.  After all, even though he thinks of himself as a halfling- and he is, in fact, an adopted Flapjacks- he cannot escape the fact that his body is that of a kobold.  He cannot help but feel a tickle of doubt at whether he belongs here in this sacred place.

Martini strolls around, looking over the various statues of halfling deities.  _Who are they?_ he wonders, staring from one to the next.  None of them are familiar at all.  One in particular is disturbing: he looks thin and hungry.  Martini shivers and leaves a piece of bread before the statue, then returns to his fellows.  He notices that Ari has already fallen into a deep torpor-like sleep, and he smiles to himself.  _A good night’s rest sounds like a good idea,_ he reflects.  

As if reading his thoughts, Jawbreaker states, “We rest here.”  Erasmuz scowls, but the burly barbarian ignores him.  “Good place.”  He smiles his toothy smile and belches. 

Erasmuz turns his head away, the scowl fixed fiercely upon his face.  _Gods,_ he sneers to himself.  He reveres no gods.  

No, he _steals_ from the gods- steals their power.  For Erasmuz is an ur-priest, disdaining the sacred and the profane for a conniving cynicism.  His so-called “friends” that he travels with have no idea of the depth of his disgust for this shrine.  Sure, there’s food- a persuasive argument, for a halfling- but this place is probably consecrated.  Or at least, it probably was at one point.  

Even the brooding Erasmuz slips into sleep.

***

_*12/13/369 O.L.G., 9 a.m., the ruined keep of the small folk, Zacradose*_

The next day forever more seems like a dream.  None of them can clearly remember it afterwards, ever, as long as they live.  Much like a dream, when they think about it too hard they start to wonder if they are changing their recollections of it.

After a night involving pillow fights and seduction between Ed and Erasmuz, morning sees them in a fine breakfast (the supplies kept, of course, in Jawbreaker’s magical bag).  Then they question Enkirdos, their captive- the gnome who was part of the group that assaulted them.  She claims that she and her friends were essentially attempting to claim the keep for their own and fix it up as a headquarters.  

“I don’t believe her,” Naomi declares.  “I think we should kill her.”  Under her breath, she adds, “...and eat her.”

“You’re gross,” Martini remarks.

They discuss it for a few moments before deciding to further explore the area.  They leave the gnome in the cage behind them, though Airhead Ed shows a strong desire to kill her.  As the party descends some stairs, she mutters, “Oh, I forgot something,” and heads back up to the cage.  After a moment’s hesitation, Martini goes after her.  But that hesitation is enough: he is too late.  The gnome is dead.  Martini glares at Ed.

“It wasn’t me,” she protests implausibly.  “Well, okay, it was, but they held me prisoner.  You don’t know what kinds of things they did to me!”

Martini just shakes his head.

***

_*11:00 a.m.*_

Going deeper into the sublevels of the ruined keep, our heroes are beset by a swarm of stirges.  Naomi gives a terrified, pig-like squeal and discharges a _fireball_ from her wand.  It explodes above her in a shower of sparks and burning stirges.  And yet more stream forth, landing on her body and beginning to suck her blood!

Jawbreaker is just out of the stirges’ field of view.  When he steps into it, he is wielding his axe.  A single mighty blow cuts one stirge in half and cleaves into another, nearly severing its body in twain.  

Ari _inflicts light wounds_ upon one of the stirges clutching her bloated friend, and huge rents open up on it.  It drops off of Naomi and crashes into the ground, dead but still twitching.  Even as it does so, however, the remaining stirges are sucking great gouts of blood from her.

Airhead Ed, meanwhile, cries in the back of the party and is ready to move away at a moment’s notice.

Jawbreaker, on the other hand, continues to rampage through the stirges, and he cuts the last two of the vicious little bloodsuckers off of Naomi.

She groans, nearly collapsing.  Her knees feel weak, and she groans, “I need something to eat.”

***

_*Noon*_

It is below that our heroes find the door.  It has no handle or method of opening. 

Nara steps up to it.  “Can you feel that?” she whispers, looking at the others.

Everyone else shakes their head.

“There’s energy running through this door,” she murmurs.  “Similar to the energy Coila lets me channel.”  She pauses for a moment.  “I wonder...”

“Maybe that’s the key,” suggests Erasmuz.

Nara nods.  “I was just thinking that.”  Taking a deep breath, she pulls forth her holy symbol and channels negative energy.  Immediately, the outline of the door begins to glow; and within seconds the door itself transforms into a field of white light.  

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” cautions Ari.

“Smell that?” exclaims Naomi, sniffing at the entrance.  Our heroes crowd close.

“Bacon!”

***

Ed refused to go through, and Jawbreaker wouldn’t leave her unprotected.  If she was part of the clan, then she was part of the clan.  Regretfully, the chief stayed with her.  The others, unable to resist, went through the energized doorway.

It seemed like the promised land, but it was not.

There were fields of pies and cows that gave cream and... and _everything._  It is so hazy now, trying to remember.  It all turned to ashes in their mouths.  None of it would feed them.  They wept, unable to believe the cruelty of it.  It was a terrible mockery of what must be a perfect world.  Why is it so hard to remember?  To remember anything past this point?  They came out of the false promised land, rejoining Jawbreaker and Ed.

A pause, to try to remember.  

There was a book that came with them, and then... what?  How long, how much time?

A pause- mind-deadening confusion.  

Smoke, and strange smells; light only from the fire burning around them.  

Erasmuz had used his prized possession, his _wand of summon bard_, to call forth someone to tell their stories to, to spread their fame.  The party laughed over a good meal, but it was hollow.  _The false promised land._

But a book, a book of lore came out of it.  They found it there, and brought it back.  But...

But where are we?

What’s going on?  It’s dark...

What happened?

Dawning horror.

“We’re surrounded!” Martini shouts.  

They are in a cave: Martini, Naomi, Erasmuz and Nara.  The others are nowhere to be seen.  The guttering fires of some sort of mossy mass are burning.  Orange sparks of flaming moss matter flutter in the air.  Three passages exit from the place.  The entire tableau is overgrown with fungus, smuts and mushrooms and strange, alien-looking formations.

From all three passages, strange, feline-looking things are moving in on the party.  Tentacles writhe beneath their knife-toothed mouths.

“What the hell is going on?” cries Martini.

_*Next Time:*_ What the hell happened?  Where are our heroes- and where are the _rest_ of our heroes?!


----------



## the Jester

So many things that are normally taken for granted... can’t be.  Normally, you know where you are, and why; you know how you got there.  You probably have a pretty good idea of what day of the week it is, and the date as well.

Our heroes have been plunged into a state of utter cluelessness.

The mossy burn is flickering and dying, and the tentacled horrors surrounding the four of them are converging quickly.  They move with almost feline grace, but the slick ochre skin and unnatural looking hair put the lie to that thought immediately.  Whatever these things are, they are _not_ cats of any sort.

Ah, but _predators-_ yes, they are predators. 

The tentacles writhing beneath their mouths squirm like slimy serpents.  Even as Naomi initiates _energy retort_, one of the monsters unleashes some form of psionic attack at her.  She cries out, but shrugs it off.  “Watch out!” she shouts a warning.  “They’ve got some kind of mind powers!”

Nara just has time to cast _divine power_ before one of the strange creatures leaps at her.  It tears into her with its claws, the tentacles wiggling around her face.  She grunts in disgust as it tries to grapple her, but she manages to throw it off as it brings a rear leg up to rake her.  

Erasmuz, meanwhile, manages to cast both _mage armor_ and _spiritual weapon_ while the other weird monsters maintain their distance, attempting psionic attacks.  Nara struggles with the only one in close, and quickly manages to drive it back a pace; but then a second one springs in, tearing into Erasmuz.  The bald little halfling squeals as he is assaulted, and then monster deals a devastating bite to his jaw, breaking it.  He shrieks in pain.  Focusing through the agony, he directs his _spiritual weapon_ into action on his aggressor, and it begins to poke away at the creature. 

Martini keeps up a steady stream of arrows at one of the other ones, which keeps attempting to break his mind.  Martini grits his teeth, plucking another arrow from the quiver at his back and fitting it to the string in one smooth, meditative motion.  He realizes suddenly that he is somewhat injured- from what, he cannot say.  _What happened to us?_ he wonders wildly.  _Why can’t I remember??_  Regardless of his confusion, Martini manages to bring down one of the strange aberrations at last.

Naomi combats her foe with a combination of telepathic assaults and pyromancy.  Her _flaming sphere_ rapidly proves its worth, but the creatures have strong wills and are not easily defeated in mental combat.  She seems to have achieved a momentary standoff with it.  She watches in dismay, however, as one of the others springs on Martini, grappling him.  The archer struggles to throw it off, but it rakes at him, tearing open bloody furrows in his body.

Nara, on the other hand, has managed to hold her own in a bloody claw-vs.-mace battle, and now her opponent withdraws down one of the passages.  “It’s getting away!” she cries, but a glance at her comrades reveals how badly they need her help now: both Martini and Erasmuz are held by the beasts, which are intent on slaying them!

But even as she rushes towards them, Martini manages to squirm free of the monster holding him, and he steps back and resumes fire at it.  Two more arrows are enough: it collapses.  That leaves only the one on Erasmuz.  Naomi steps in and inflicts a _recall agony_ on the beast.  It springs away, perhaps realizing that the tide has turned, and flees down a tunnel with extraordinary speed. 

Our heroes draw together.  Any thought of pursuit is destroyed by the monsters’ fleetness.  They begin to discuss their situation.

“The last thing I remember is the false Promised Land, and that’s foggy,” Naomi says. 

“Your beard is different,” Nara tells Martini.  The party looks it over (he himself uses a mirror, naturally).  Indeed, his beard is a different style than it used to be.

“My arrows are different, too,” he notes after an inspection.

Everyone else begins examining him- or herself as well.  They all find an interesting array of subtle changes, such as Martini’s beard and arrows, new scars and the like.  When Naomi looks for new tattoos on her body, she is shocked and appalled.  

“This is _disgusting,_” she complains. 

Her left forearm now sports a unicorn.

“Do _I_ have any new tattoos?” wonders Martini.  He pulls off his tunic- and he, too, finds a tattoo of a unicorn on his left forearm.

“It looks like my work,” Naomi mutters, unable to believe her eyes.  _Why the hell would I get a _unicorn_ tattooed on me?_ she asks herself.  _What the hell happened to me- to us?_

“Where are the others?” asks Nara.  Nobody has an answer.  “Where are _we?_” she expands, but nobody knows that either.  

“Let’s explore,” suggests Martini.  “I don’t want to just stay here in case those things come back.”

The party agrees with his reasoning, and so they head out.  Before long they come into a chamber with a huge corpse in it- some kind of subterranean giant, perhaps?  A carrion crawler is hanging out on it, no doubt grazing.  Our heroes quickly put an end to that.  Continuing along, they spill out into a large chamber with-

Horror.

A huge cage, full of docile-looking halflings, dominates the chamber.  But off to one side are a pair of stocks, and in those stocks are two more shaven-headed halflings.  Standing before them are a pair of mauve-skinned, tentacle faced humanoid creatures: the dreaded mind flayers.  Running about the chamber like great cats are the two creatures that fled from the party’s first encounter with them.  Our heroes’ blood runs cold, but not merely because of the illithids before them. 

One of the figures in the stocks- is clearly a shaven-headed Jawbreaker.

_Mind blasts_ burst out the party.

_*Next Time:*_ Mind flayers and halflings and mind blasts, oh my!


----------



## the Jester

Mauve tentacles writhe before our heroes, and their blood runs cold.  _Mind flayers._  Jawbreaker is about to become lunch for a mind flayer.  Suddenly their memory problems take on a more sinister aspect.  So does the absence of most of their friends- only Martini, Erasmuz, Naomi and Nara are free.  Where is Airhead Ed?  Federico?  

_Well, at least we found Jawbreaker,_ thinks Naomi as the slimy-skinned mind flayers let loose with their deadly mind blasts.  Her mind goes completely blank with shock as mental force overwhelms her.  She can’t think, can’t move... but is all too aware of the imminent danger.  The wriggling tentacles seem to emanate hunger for her brain, and she can’t do anything about it.

But the others manage to stave off the terrific mental force of the illithids.  Martini grits his teeth against a sudden migraine and fires his bow into one of the monsters, shooting it multiple times, including a critical hit to the face.  It flops back, dead in the space of a few seconds, never able to assault his mind again.  

Erasmuz gasps in fear as the other two strange cat-like predators bound towards him.  He fires a crossbow bolt that shoots wildly off-target, and then one of the creatures is on him, tearing at his small form with claws and tentacles.

The other mind flayer vanishes.  

Nara breathes a sigh of relief and casts a _sound burst_ that catches both of the cat-like monsters in its area.  Both of them are already wounded; one of them falls to her spell.  Then Martini’s arrows shoot over and over into the remaining predator, and it staggers back, collapses and dies. 

The battle over, our heroes spring immediately to release the two halflings in the stocks.  One of them is indeed a shaven Jawbreaker, his head oiled and spiced.  He is not responsive to the party’s words.  Martini shudders.  “Keep your eyes peeled for more of them,” he warns, thinking of the illithids.  “One of them got away- he might be going for reinforcements or something.”

The party turns its attention to the cage full of halflings.  Our heroes note the unsettling fact that the halflings have made not a peep during the battle.  Neither, come to think of it, has Jawbreaker.

“Chief Jawbreaker?” says Erasmuz, shaking him by the shoulder.  There is no response.  He exchanges worried a glance with Nara.  The party gathers around, and they all call to him to no avail. 

Then Nara punches him in the face as hard as she can.  A slightly puzzled cast comes to his featuers.  His brow begins to crinkle, and then Jawbreaker roars, shakes his head and staggers down onto one knee for a moment.  Bewildered, he looks around wildly.  Seeing his friends, he roars again, then- after a few moments- calms down, panting.  

“Where Jawbreaker?” he asks, after a moment.

That, the party agrees, is a very good question.  Nobody knows the answer.

_What has happened to us?_ wonders Erasmuz.

They turn their attention to the other person who had been in the stocks: another halfling male, who is unresponsive until they break his mental trance by punching him in the nose.  When he shudders and comes out of his trance, however, he immediately mutters, “Anybody got some crahk?”*

“What’s that?” asks Naomi.

“Dwarven stuff.  Rocks that you can smoke,” the fellow describes.  “Nobody gots any?”  After a moment of silence, the victim of the illithids says, “My name’s Tron.”  This triggers a round of introductions, which is quickly followed up by a combination of looting of the dead mind flayer and examining the cage of halflings.  

The mind flayer has nothing but a loincloth on, but Tron takes it enthusiastically.  “I bet I could get some money for this,” he declares, to the dubious looks everyone else gives him.

Meanwhile, some of the halflings have drifted over to watch our heroes.  Jawbreaker smashes through their cage door, and the party escorts them out.  They are in various states of psychic shock, but are all too aware of what their eventual fate would be, were it not for our heroes.  A few of the halflings are able to talk, but most are semi-comatose and barely responsive.

“This place _sucks,_” announces Nara miserably.

“What are we going to do with them?” asks Erasmuz. 

“We can’t just leave them here.”  Even the evil Naomi is unwilling to do _that_.

“They follow us,” Jawbreaker declares.

Indeed, with a little coaxing, they do.  The mind-shocked halflings follow the party as it moves along.  Tron chatters incessantly.  “You should stay in the back,” Jawbreaker says.  “You not have weapon.”  Jawbreaker himself has a shortsword loaned to him by Naomi.  He is hoping against hope that he will find his equipment somewhere, but...

“I don’t need a weapon,” Tron states with a stain-toothed grin.  He raises up his hand, and suddenly a blazing blade of psionic energy erupts into existence.  Our heroes gasp; they have never seen anything like it.  With a grin, he announces, “I’m a soulknife!”

Our heroes can’t really argue with his mindblade’s usefulness, having no idea whatsoever as to what he can do, so he remains in the front of the procession with our heroes rather than with the numb crowd.

The halflings move along through the caves surrounding them for about ten minutes before stumbling into another wider cavern.  Jawbreaker, leading the way, gapes at the sight before him.

Pinkish-gray brains... on legs.  Three of them.  Standing in an attitude of alertness, like guard dogs.  Nara gives an incoherent cry as they scuttle forward with frightful urgency.  The brain-dog in the lead leaps for Jawbreaker, all four of its strong legs raking at him, while the others hang back and use psychic powers against our heroes.  The battle is furious.  The party finds their weapons barely effective; the walking brains, meanwhile, prove both physically and mentally formidable.  They manage to confuse Naomi with _id insinuation,_ causing her to behave dangerously erratically; Jawbreaker has to hold her down in order to immobilize her and keep her from causing harm.  The monstrous brains are resistant to halfling magic, too; and they can even heal their wounds.  But our heroes are mighty, and not to be denied; they destroy two of the three brains, and though Nara tries to catch the last one, it escapes into the dark twists and turns of the tunnels the halflings are wandering lost within.  She returns to the others, shaking her head.  “It got away,” she tells them with regret.

What happened to them?  How long has passed that they don’t remember?  Nara grits her teeth angrily.  And where are her other friends?

The thought of Jawbreaker in the stocks frightens her.  _What if they already ate Federico’s brain?_ she thinks, chilled.  _What about Ari?  Ed?_

A glad cry echoes up ahead.  She hurries to see what Jawbreaker has found: his equipment!

“With this, we have chance!” he gurgles happily, hefting his longspear. 

Our heroes continue to forge ahead, looking for- what?  Escape, perhaps?  Clues as to the cause of their strange fugue state?

An exit presents itself to them.  A natural series of stone shelves begins to ascend.  Soon, with a glad cry, Naomi spots the distant glow of sunlight coming in from above.  She scuttles to keep up with the others, hauling her considerable bulk with pride.  Up, up the stone shelves our heroes go.  Ever ascending, they hurry along until- they emerge onto the surface!  Their hearts burst with joy.  Escape!

Except- 

Their “escape” has left them in a ravine, deep and jagged, with sheer walls on all sides.  A hidden place, away from prying eyes.  And for escape?  Escape needs climbing, several hundred feet of climbing.

For a shuddering moment, Martini thinks of old friends: of Coco, and Brother He.... deads friends.

Friends who died from climbing.  These halflings are _not_ known for their luck with climbing.

All around them, the sheer rock walls mock them, and the sun drops low enough that the entire ravine is cast in sudden shadow.  It won’t be long until the sun is down completely.  _And then the mind flayers will come out looking for us._  Erasmuz shudders at the thought.

_*Next Time:*_ Will our heroes escape the ravine?  What strange allies will they find?  And what happened to them??

*Crahk has appeared in my game before, in 2ed, when Horbin’s player played a short lived dwarven sociopath crahk dealer (iirc the whole thing- he may have simply been a crahkhead).  In this case, however, Tron’s player was rolling up his character and he got a 3.  He was playing a tallfellow halfling, which in Cydra has additional ability adjustments including a -2 wis, so he has a wisdom score of 1.  His player explained: “I figured there has to be a _reason_ he has a 1 wisdom, and crack is it.”  Er, crahk.


----------



## the Jester

The shadows in the ravine are growing deeper.  The brain-shocked halflings mill about.  Our heroes (and Tron) seem to be nearly the only ones with any sense of self-preservation or motivation.  

“We have to climb,” Martini states grimly.  

Naomi looks fearfully up the face of the cliff.  There are some handholds, but...

“Maybe we can send one person ahead and tie a rope,” suggests Erasmuz.  

“Do we _have_ a rope?” asks Martini grimly.  “Remember how different our supplies are... my arrows all have different fletching.”

“Food stores different,” Jawbreaker grunts after a quick glance into his magic bag.  He frowns.  The very thought that someone has tampered with his food leaves him angry.  He growls softly to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

The party checks for rope, Tron jabbering in the background about selling the stained loincloths that the illithid the party killed had been wearing.  “I bet I can get some money for these,” he says dreamily.

The others find that they have, between them, about 150’ of rope.  Gazing up the ragged climb, Nara groans, “I don’t think it’s enough.”

“Two hundred feet,” nods Jawbreaker seriously.  He considers the climb thoughtfully.

“Hey Chief Jawbreaker, I bet that you could climb it,” says Erasmuz cunningly.*

“Maybe- but long fall if wrong.”

“I could stop your fall with my powers, if you were in any real danger,” Erasmuz offers.  “If you were to fall, that is.  I bet you could make it.”

“You can stop fall?” 

Erasmuz nods.  

“If you can drop a rope down most of the way... maybe we can even get these other guys out of here,” Nara suggests.  

“Hey!” barks Naomi at the herd of halflings behind them.  Spittle flies from her fat mouth.  “We’re going to get you out of here, but you’re going to have to climb.”  _All of us are,_ she didn’t add, wondering if she could haul her ponderous bulk up to the rope.  _If Jawbreaker can even get it up there,_ she thinks.

“We can’t climb that,” moans one of the halflings.

The corpulent psion replies, “You’ll have to.  After all, the mind flayers will be coming once it gets dark.”

A low moan comes from the halfling crowd.  They shrink back.  Several clutch themselves.  

“Besides, Erasmuz stops fall.”  Jawbreaker grins, taking all the rope, and he begins to climb.

“Go, Chief Jawbreaker!” cries Nara.

The halflings watch, spellbound, as Jawbreaker begins to pull himself, hand over hand, up the wall of the ravine.  There are many small hand- and toeholds, but the wall itself is nearly vertical.  When Jawbreaker is about 40’ up, his foot slips.  Everyone gasps.  Jawbreaker hangs in space for a moment- then he is falling back and away from the wall, a strangled cry issuing from his mouth.  

Erasmuz does nothing, his face remaining impartial as the chief slams into the ground.  “I thought you said your magic could save him!” cries Nara, and the mind-shocked halflings cringe and cower back, more fearful than ever.

“He was in no danger,” Erasmuz answers.  “I have to save my powers until we _need_ them.  I can only do it so many times a day.”

Jawbreaker scowls as he stands up, but Nara quickly heals him of his injuries.  He begins the torturous climb again, and this time he paces himself better, taking his time and choosing his route carefully.  Slowly he crawls up the side of the mountain.  Finally he reaches the top, from which he casts the rope down to the others.  The entire time, the others are trying to persuade the mind-shocked halflings to accompany them, but they are frightened of the attempt.  Even the oncoming night doesn’t motivate them.  For some of them, it’s as if they want to be recaptured by the mind flayers.  

Our heroes cannot force the climb upon them.  “We can’t just leave them here,” objects Nara.  “They’re halflings!”

“We can’t do anything from here,” Martini reminds her.  “We have to get out and see if we can get help.”

The group slowly ascends, one at a time, to the base of the climb.  From there they continue up, having a much easier time of it.  There are a few falls during the initial setion, but once they reach the rope everyone seems to do fine.

From the top they can see the sinking sun.  Only another hour of light...

“What’s that?”  Naomi points into the sky.  Some kind of winged forms are in the air, and in the distance- upslope- there is some kind of large nest.

“Eggs!” they all say together at once.

_*Next Time:*_ Bird-men!  A monestary!  Another party member!  And the mystery of the fugue starts to unravel!


*I don’t know if I’ve described him this way in this thread, but Erasmuz is like a little halfling Anton Levay- bald with a goatee.  And of course, he _is_ an ur-priest.


----------



## the Jester

With the possibility of eggs and/or fowl on the horizon, it is only natural that mistakes should be made.  The bird-men, potential allies, instead become prey to our hungry heroes.  Sadly, there are no eggs, and the bird-men prove they are intelligent by turning out to carry javelins.  Once the battle starts, there is no stopping it until it is over, and then the humanoid birds have been felled by our heroes.

“Chicken!” gurgles Naomi.

“They were intelligent,” points out Martini.

“We don’t know that,” the fat psion/elementalist replies.

He holds up one of their javelins meaningfully.

“Circumstantial evidence,” she snorts. 

He just shakes his head.

“We have plenty food anyway,” Jawbreaker states, shaking his magical bag.  

“Well, then, we should throw the bodies down to the halflings below,” suggests Naomi.

“Will they even eat them?” Nara asks dubiously.  It seems to her that the intelligence is obvious on the bird creatures’ faces.  

“They will if they don’t want to be hungry,” Erasmuz chuckles.

Martini shakes his head, but the party kicks the corpses over the edge anyway.  Erasmuz has a point: without food, the halflings in the gorge below won’t be able to even defend themselves if the mind flayers come for them.  _We have to find a way to rescue them,_ the archer thinks grimly.

“Look up there,” points Nara.

Silhouetted against the darkening sky is a cliff-top building of some sort.  “It looks like a monastery,” Martini muses, and Erasmuz looks uncomfortable.  He has long since abandoned the precepts of his monkish training, as he has abandoned all belief in gods as anything but tools to be exploited by his powerful will.  

“Maybe they can help us rescue the other halflings,” Nara says eagerly.

“Maybe they have some crahk,” Tron adds, his voice yearning.  The others scowl.

***

“I saw something,” murmurs Martini abruptly.  The party is panting, having climbed most of the way to the building.  “I think there is a lookout.”  He points.  

“Do you think they’ve seen us, buddy?” Erasmuz asks nervously.

“I guess we’ll see,” the archer replies.  

Soon after, as our heroes continue their ascent, they begin to hear bits of movement.  Pebbles, dislodged from one location or another, bounce down from above.  Shuffling sounds approach the group.

Our heroes find a ledge to await what they hope is help.  A few dozen minutes pass, and then a figure arrives, small of stature and-

“It’s a kobold!” yells Martini, amazed.  

But before our heroes can marshal an attack on the grubby little humanoid, it speaks to them.

“My friends!” it pipes.  “How did it go?”

“Uh- what?”  Nara is nonplussed.

“Oh, no,” the kobold groans.

“Have we met?” Martini asks.

“What is the last thing you remember?” the kobold inquires.

The party hesitates.  Could this kobold have some of the answers to the questions that are dogging them?  Erasmuz answers it after a long moment.  “There was the false promised land,” he grumbles, “and a book of halfling lore...”

“Yip!”  The kobold seems distressed.  “The revolution?  Do you remember the battle against Stackler?”  Seeing our heroes’ face, the kobold sighs heavily.  “You had better come with me,” it tells them.  “I am sure you have many questions, my friends.  

“Equally, I am sure that Father Yip is better equipped to answer them.”

_*Next Time:*_ Answers at the Yip Monastery!


----------



## the Jester

The robed kobolds are all seemingly identical.  It is... unnerving.  They all appear to recognize the halfling heroes, but the party recognizes them not at all.  All of the kobolds they meet, at first, seem to be called Brother Yip*; but then, they are shown to the one who will, apparently, answer their questions: Master Yip.

Master Yip looks much like the other kobolds, though a little older and more worn.  He regards our heroes with an expression of great sadness as they approach.  “You remember nothing, eh?” he asks without preamble.

“No, we don’t,” Naomi grumbles.  “Who are you?  What happened to us?”

“One of the other kobolds mentioned something about a revolution,” Nara adds.

“Where are we, anyway, buddy?” Erasmuz inquires.

Tron’s eyes dart around shiftily, as if looking for anything of value that is not nailed down.  Unfortunately, the chamber is so sparse as to be Spartan in its furnishings.

“Jawbreaker hungry,” grumbles the chief.  Though he has the bag of food, he is hoping that the kobolds will have something different and exciting to try out.

“And can you do anything to help the other halflings we had to leave behind?” Martini asks.

Master Yip raises a hand.  “Please,” the kobold begs, “one thing at a time.  I have much to tell you.  But first... what is the last thing you remember?”

Erasmuz frowns.  “I remember the false promised land, and there was this book...”

Master Yip nods knowingly at the mention of the false promised land.

Naomi adds, “Yeah, the next thing we knew we were underground, in some kind of mind flayer place...”

“But,” Master Yip asks pensively, “nothing between then and now.”

“No,” admits Erasmuz.

“Look,” Naomi snaps, “I think it’s about time you told us what’s going on!”  She glowers at the Yip.

“Peace, my friends,” sighs Master Yip.  “I will try to answer your questions.”  He looks thoughtfully at Chief Jawbreaker.  “I will have some food sent in.”  The Chief grins hugely.  The party gathers around, trying to make themselves comfortable, and the kobold mulls his words.  

“You came here seeking our help some months ago,” Master Yip begins.

“We came here?” Nara interrupts.  “Seeking your help with what?”

“The revolution,” Master Yip declares solemnly.  “You had begun a fairly successful insurrection against Governor Stackler, and things were heating up.  You had carried several battles against him and rallied a fair amount of support against his regime.  But- and I must emphasize, we only know this because _you told us about it_- he was a puppet, being manipulated from behind the scenes.”

“Manipulated!” exclaims Erasmuz.  “By whom?”

“By a combination of things,” the Yip replies.  “By a faction of mind flayers- and by their ally.”  His eyes bore into our heroes’.  “By Lord Obliviax.”

“Lord Obliviax?  Who- or what- is that?” demands Naomi.

It is at this point that a pair of kobold monks enter the chamber, bearing a steaming pot of plain white race.  Jawbreaker’s face fills with dismay at the sight: this is neither exotic, nor flavorful, nor even particularly appealing!  Surely the monks cannot actually live on such fare??  The ricebearers depart without delay, and the Chief looks like he is about to cry.

“Lord Obliviax is...”  Master Yip trails off thoughtfully.  “Do you know of obliviax?” he asks.  The halflings shake their heads.  “Obliviax, also called memory moss, is a magical form of plant life.  It is known for stealing the last day’s memories from a person.  It can even steal a person’s spells.  Normally, it is mindless, but when it steals the memories from a person it might retain a brief semblance of intelligence.”

“Lots of things can take your memory away,” Tron pipes up suddenly.  “Hey, you want to buy some mind flayer underwear?”

Before Master Yip can reply, Naomi interrupts, “So Lord Obliviax is a moss?”

“Not exactly,” Master Yip replies.  “He appears to be a communal mind that has animated several colonies and joined them into one mobile form.  Normally, you see, obliviax is immobile.”

“But why are they allied with mind flayers?” wonders Nara.

“It makes sense,” Erasmuz points out.  “Lord Obliviax eats their memories, and then the mind flayers eat their brains.”

“What about our other friends?” asks Naomi.  “Were any of them with us when we came to you?  What happened to them?”

“Ahh, of course, you don’t remember,” the kobold answers.  “Federico is here- but sorely wounded.”  He rises gravely.  “Now that you have returned, perhaps you can help him.  Come, I will lead you to him.”

Our heroes follow Master Yip out of the chamber.

_*Next Time:*_ Well, there’s Federico!  Where’s everyone else?  Our heroes find at least one more of their friends- at the mercy of the obliviax!!

*The basic concept of the Yips is blatantly stolen from another story hour (or two) around here.


----------



## the Jester

I'd say it's about that time again... time for a party roster!  

*Nara* - female halfling cleric 5/prophet 4, LN.  Nara follows the goddess Coila, goddess of time and relentlessness.  
*Erasmuz* - male halfling wizard 1/psion 1/ranger 1/ex-monk 2/ur-priest 3, NE.  Erasmuz looks like a halfling Anton La Vey.
*Federico* - male kobold bard 6/sorcerer 2/jester 1, CG.  The clan dog.
*Naomi* - female halfling psion 5/elementalist 4, LE.  Fat, ugly and mean; oh, and a cannibal.
*Tron* - male halfling soulknife 7, N.  A crackhead with a wisdom of 1.
*Ari* - male halfling druid 8; N.  Kind of a halfling hippy.
*Jawbreaker* - male halfling barbarian 7/bear warrior 2; CG.  The 'Chief' of the clan.


----------



## the Jester

Nara’s heart nearly stops when she sees poor Federico.  

His head is nearly split open.

Angry red soaks the bandages wrapped around the kobold’s head.  He lies perfectly still.  His eyes are shut; his breathing is faint, but noticeable.  And regular.  

“What happened to him?” gasps Erasmuz.  

“He was struck down by the obliviax,” replies Master Yip gently.  The Yip disciples all around nod and softly yip their agreement.  “He is beyond our skill to heal, but we are not clerics.  Perhaps you...?”

Nara steps forward and takes the kobold’s hand.  Sadness blossoms over her as she assesses the damage on him.  She dips her head and sighs, holding silent for just a moment.  Then she begins to pray- uttering sacred words and laying her fingers gently upon Federico’s head.  The oozing wound that nearly slew Federico begins to slowly close.  The color starts to return to his face.  She keeps praying, and beneath her fingers damaged brain tissue mends and repairs itself as she _restores_ his mind to him.

Federico’s eyes flutter and open.  “Where am I?” he whines, and begins to cry.  “I feel funny,” he snivels.  “My head hurts.  Why is everyone so excited to see me?” he exclaims from the center of a group hug.

***

Federico is brought up to speed.  Despite the _restoration,_ he is still fairly confused as to what is going on, but he’s the dog.  He goes along with the pack, so to speak.  He certainly agrees with the others that their top priority has to be to rescue any of their friends that they can. 

To that end, Master Yip assigns one of the Yips to accompany the party and guide them to a place called Black Valley.  “That was where you had gone when you left us here, looking to slay Lord Obliviax,” he tells them.

Our heroes gulp.  They are following in their own footsteps.  They were- apparently- defeated before.  Can they hope for victory this time?

“I wish I had some crahk,” grumbles Tron.  Then he brightens.  “I can scrape my pipe- with my mindblade!”  He grins to himself.

Brother Yip leads the party down a ridge of the mountain until a valley comes into view.  It is overgrown with something black.  

“That’s why they call it the Black Valley, I guess,” muses Erasmuz.  “Hey, buddy, how did we know that we would find Lord Obliviax down there?”

The Yip looks at him.  “You surmised.  That black growth was your indicator.”

Erasmuz’ eyes widen as he realizes what Yip means.

“It is all obliviax.”

_*Next Time:*_ Into the Black Valley!


----------



## hippiejediz

Can I get a bump, bump.


----------



## the Jester

*The Rescue of Ari*

“Confused” is putting it mildly.  Ari reels from side to side, uncertain as to what is going on.  Where is he?  Wasn’t he just... what was he doing?  The Promised Land, right?  And his friends... but why can’t he remember?

He is _hungry._

Something black and cool, like springy moss, seems to be covering him and obscuring his vision.  Ari loses touch with himself again.

***

Brother Yip leads the way down into the Black Valley.  As our wee heroes advance, more and more of the rocks and shrubs around them show black, mossy growths.  Nervously, the party proceeds.  _This is very dangerous,_ thinks Erasmuz.  _This stuff could steal even more of our memories._  Then his face draws tight as he thinks of Ari.  _But we certainly can’t let them steal our _friend.  _No, we’ve got to go in here and rescue Ari._ 

The valley is quiet.  There is no bird song.  As the party moves deeper in, the moss is everywhere- on the rocks, on the bushes, here and there simply on the ground itself. 

Then the party rounds a boulder and they find their friend.  

He is prone on a flat slab of wood, and three strange upright masses of the moss are using strong mossy arms to carry the wood.  Ari is covered is a layer of black moss, but his identity is still evident.  

“Ari!” shouts Naomi, enraged.  She drops the ham bone that she had been gnawing on, curses, picks it up, wipes off the dirt and stuffs it in her cleavage.  Martini swears and lifts his bow.  Federico starts to shiver and puts away his lipstick, then starts to jape and joke to inspire confidence in the others.  Erasmuz starts to sing as well, joining the clan dog in his choruses.  Tron moves in, his _mind blade_ active and charged with psychic energy.

The three creatures drop Ari and his wooden litter unceremoniously to the floor, and one of them swiftly begins to attack Tron.  The thing’s first blow smashes into his chest, driving the air from his lungs.  The halfling grunts in pain and dismay.  A second blow crashes down into his shoulder and nearly drives him to his knees.  “I don’t like you!” Tron whines, and slashes into the thing’s body with his _mind blade._ There is an explosion of psionic energy and the mossy monster virtually explodes!  It collapses into an immobile heap.

The second creature charges at Tron, smashing into him, and the soul knife slashes back at him.  Meanwhile the final monster has charged at Jawbreaker (who is busily lighting a torch, reasoning that they might not be vulnerable to normal weapons).  Nara starts to follow his example, and Jawbreaker changes tactics.  Since he has been directly attacked, he pulls forth his axe and gives a mighty blow.  Unfortunately, he missteps and twists his ankle, throwing his blow off badly.  A rain of Martini’s arrows _thwack_ into the obliviax beast attacking him again and again.  Meanwhile, a _spiritual weapon_ has appeared, thanks to Erasmuz (or perhaps it would be better termed an _unspiritual weapon_) and begins pounding on the creature as well, while Federico shoots at the other one with his crossbow.

“Pull back!” Naomi cries crossly.  She pulls forth her wand, waits not a second, and fires off a _fireball_ from it.  A red bead shoots out and when it reaches its target it explodes into red-hot flames, engulfing both obliviators and not quite reaching any of our heroes (including Ari).  

The two monsters crumble into ash.

“Ari!” cries Nara, rushing over to their friend.  The party clusters around, but he doesn’t seem responsive.  They brush off most of the moss, but there is no change.  “Perhaps,” Nara says, “given some time to prepare some different spells, I can rouse him.  Or, equally, perhaps the Yip Master has some sort of way to bring him around.”

And so our heroes return to the monastery.  Master Yip does indeed have a few ideas as to how to rouse Ari, ranging from slapping him to massaging certain pressure points.  Soon enough, some thing or combination of things that he does works, and Ari sits up groggily.  His memories are spotty, too; he can remember very little since the party left Dyshim.  

Thus it is that the others brief him: they have been fighting against the self-proclaimed King (former Governor) Stackler, of Zacradose.  

“Wasn’t he sending ships against Dyshim?” asks Ari. 

“Exactly!” exclaims Nara.  “And we took the fight to Zacradose.”  Once there, the party had gone to a ruined keep of the small folk, in hopes of finding out anything new about the promised land or the halfling prophecy that they had heard beneath the pit of the healing springs while on Dyshim.  They had found, instead, the _false_ promised land- where everything had looked perfect but turned sour instead.  And then-

That is where _everyone’s_ memories are lost to.  But the Yips have filled our heroes in: it is all the fault of Lord Obliviax.

The party, in working against Stackler, had found out that he was a puppet of a mind flayer allied with Lord Obliviax.  “We had come into these mountains to take care of Lord Obliviax,” states Naomi, “and that’s where our memories were destroyed.  We must have fought him and lost, and ever since we’ve been trying to figure out what’s happening.  We’ve already killed and driven off a couple of mind flayers.”

“We kill Lord Obliviax, we win,” Jawbreaker states.  “Let’s go.”

“Well-”  Erasmuz pauses.  “What do you say, Ari?  Do you feel up to going back to face Lord Obliviax with us?”

Ari stands up and walks around for a moment, testing his body.  “I think so,” he says slowly.  He makes a mental check: he has all of his spells prepared.  “Yeah.  Let’s go.”

Jawbreaker nods decisively.  “Good.  We go.”

It is afternoon, but not too late yet.  The party moves swiftly out and back to the gorge that Martini, Naomi, Nara and Erasmuz originally climbed into upon escaping the tunnels.  Afternoon has turned to evening, and by the time the party has descended to the bottom of the gorge, evening is threatening to turn to night. 

“We camp here,” says Jawbreaker.  “Go in to caves in morning.”

The party sets up their camp.  They eat a hearty dinner and then most of them lie down in order to catch some sleep.  Of course, they always have a guard, so _somebody_ is awake.

A good thing, too, for an ambush comes in the deep night.

_*Next Time:*_ An illithid ambush!


----------



## the Jester

_*1 a.m., 7/9/370 O.L.G., in the mountains of Zacradose*_

When it comes time for Chief Jawbreaker to take his watch, he conceals himself in the deep shadows of some brush, laying some branches before him in order to give himself a screen against even those with darkvision.  Quietly, he lays his back against a tall shrub and gradually eases himself back into it so that his silhouette will merge with the brush around him.  Above him, the black sky is interrupted by a gash of stars, but to all sides the blackness is absolute.  Around him the subtle songs of insects and night birds float through the darkened air.

The others sleep peacefully.  Jawbreaker remains alert, his eyes peeled; but all of the mountain climbing, compounded by the midnight snack Naomi had whipped up, makes him sleepy.  The chief yawns.  For a moment his eyelids slide shut, tickled by an invisible psychic touch.   He yawns again; his breathing slips into an even rhythm.  

_Crack._

The breaking of a twig draws Chief Jawbreaker back into full awareness.  _What was that?_ he wonders, and his eyes flick back and forth, looking for danger.  His nostrils flare as he scents the air.  _Something strange on the wind.  Like mucus._  He frowns.  _Like..._

The yowling of the freakish, tentacled predators suddenly erupts from all around the camp, and belatedly, Jawbreaker realizes that he has been lulled by the mind tricks of the enemy!  In the darkness, it is nearly impossible to see anything, but the sound of Erasmuz screaming is painfully clear.  Jawbreaker grimaces.  There seem to be about four of the predators.  He ignores them for the moment, scanning the area as best he can for a more... _humanoid_ shape. 

There!

Jawbreaker can see the tentacles on its face in the small light cast by the embers.  A mind flayer!  With a grin of anticipation, the bear warrior unlimbers his axe.  Then his feet are pounding the ground as he bellows out a roar and lunges forward, chopping at the illithid with devastating force!  The mind flayer turns to see him coming, the tentacles of its face writhing in dismay.  Ichor spews out over Jawbreaker’s torso, and he guffaws.  But then his gives out a cry of his own as the slimy tentacles reach for his face, wrapping around his head and attempting to burrow into his ears and mouth!  He gags and tries to spit, but the tentacle is just inserting itself deeper, up his sinuses and towards his brain!

Erasmuz, meanwhile, wakes up to find himself being savagely attacked by the tentacled quadrupeds that the party faced earlier in the caves beneath this rift.  _Curse _all_ the gods!_ he thinks angrily, manifesting _force screen_ with his psionic powers.  One of them manages to bite through the psychic field protecting him, but two of the others spring off of him to assault Nara, who has just woken up a few feet away.  She shouts in surprise as the things bound at her, and then she screams as her blood splatters out across the ground.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you!” cries Ari.

A mental voice washes across them all: *I think not.*  A cone of stunning psionic energy blasts the party, and Ari and Federico fall senseless to the ground!  The mind flayer, still struggling to subdue Jawbreaker, seems inordinately pleased with itself.  Unfortunately for it, Jawbreaker- though his ears ring and he has just developed a sudden, blistering migraine- has maintained his ability to act, and with a roar, the Chief drives his axe deep into the illithid’s torso, shoving the blade in with all his might!  It stiffens in anger and pain, and more of the ichor bubbles out of the aberration.  Its tentacles stiffen and seem to redouble their efforts.  With a wild, incoherent cry, Jawbreaker attempts to stab it again, but this time his blade snags in his adversary’s simple robes.  The Chief sinks to one knee as the final tentacle latches on, forcing its way in through his nose.  Slime covers his face.  He still struggles, but something caresses the top of his brain and ice runs up his spine.

_This is it,_ he thinks.

“Jawbreaker!!  NOOOO!!!” screams Nara.

And then, just in the nick of time, Naomi blasts the illithid with her psionic ability to force it to _recall agony._  The creature, already terribly wounded, staggers back.  Slowly, it sinks down into a sitting position.  Its tentacles slackly retract from Jawbreaker’s head, leaving the Chief gasping in relief and covered with illithid mucus.  

Then our heroes focus on the beasts.  Nara has managed to rise and stagger away from the ones assaulting her long enough to cast _cure critical wounds_ on herself.  Erasmuz casts _shield of faithlessness_ and backs away as well.  Tron, on the other hand, has activated and charged his _mind blade_, and now he engages on of the feline predators.  His first blow is well-aimed, and he takes off an ear!  The thing gives a squealing yowl and pounces on him, ripping a significant wound in his chest.  Only his sternum prevents the thing from eating his heart in a single great chomp!  Screaming in pain, Tron strikes again, and this time he sinks his _mind blade_ deep into its forehead.  The beast screams and dies!

“Three to go!” announces Nara.  An instant later, after Jawbreaker and Tron flank one of the beasts, she changes her assessment.  “Two, that is,” she grins, watching the monster fall to their combined blows.

Erasmuz stabs one in the head with his dinky little rapier, dazing it for a moment, then moves away.  “Get it, buddies!” he cries.  But a moment later it bounds after him and attacks.  The ur-priest throws up his arm to try to protect himself, and then gasps in pain as the thing’s bite clamps down on him.  He struggles, kicking and punching at it, missing again and again.  Meanwhile, Jawbreaker and Tron are engaging the other one.  In just a few more seconds the beasts are dead or driven away.  

“Now what?” asks Nara.  “Do we try to finish resting, or just go in?”

“Do you think they’ll attack us again tonight?” wonders Federico, groaning as he shakes off the effects of the _mind blast_ at last.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” answers Ari grimly. 

“And how did they know we were down here?” the kobold continues.

“Maybe you’re a narc!” Tron accuses Naomi.  He activates his _mind blade_ and brandishes it.

“Hey, calm down,” Ari says, annoyed.

“I think you should protect me,” Naomi _suggests,_ and Tron cocks his head and nods.*  

“All right,” he replies, and deactivates his _mind blade_.

“Well, I’m glad that’s settled,” Ari says dryly.  “Now, about resting... it’s probably not safe here.”

“Well, but we can’t really get out of the rift by night and still get a good night’s rest,” Erasmuz points out.

“Rest, but elsewhere in little valley, with no fire,” decides Chief Jawbreaker.  “And double watches.”

The party moves their camp, and this time they manage to rest the remainder of the night undisturbed.  In the morning, after first breakfast, they break camp.  Then, gnawing on snacks or consuming trail mix, they descend back into the caves that they had escaped from so recently.  _At least we know what we’re up against, now,_ thinks Nara.  _We need to defeat this “Lord Obliviax”.  With any luck, we’ve taken the wind out of the mind flayers.   If we’re lucky, that was the one who got away before, coming back to dispute things, and we just took care of them for good.  If there aren’t any more of them, or few enough that they are scared off._

Deeper down the passages the party goes.  The walls are coated with weird growths, some oozing strange fluids from apertures.  The occasional drip of water is audible.  Soon, the passage the party is following widens.  Smuts and strange fungal things cling to the ceiling and walls, and here and there strange slime molds creep along the floor.  

A noise comes to our heroes from the darkness ahead: a squelching, sighing, _breathing_ sound.  And they are coming forward.  Into the light... to be revealed as horrible creatures, obviously of the same general type as the illithids and their tentacled, semi-feline predators.  But these things are different, bloated, like huge tentacled sacks.  

Jawbreaker charges.

_*Next Time:*_ Enter: Lord Obliviax!

*Tron, a crahk-head, has a wisdom score of 1.  He is easy to _suggest._  It has become a favorite game amongst the pcs, as Naomi, Federico, Nara? and maybe Erasmuz? can all use it on him.


----------



## the Jester

*Against Lord Obliviax!*

Jawbreaker’s axe chops into the bloated, tentacle-covered bag with a wet ripping sound!  There is a terrible loud trumpeting sound that comes from the thing as it cries out in pain; then a _spiritual weapon_ strikes it, directed by Erasmuz, and it hollers again.  

And, in response, it lashes its tentacles across the Chief.  _Wham!_  Two blows slam into Jawbreaker, smashing him back a few feet and bloodying his face!  He roars and shakes his head- and then leans back with a surprised cry as Ari’s _flame strike_ burns down on the monstrosity!  It makes another, higher-pitched sound, this one almost a whine.  Jawbreaker grimaces and hacks, hacks, hacks.

The beast’s companion, meanwhile, rumbles slowly forward.  A strange, amorphous halo of concealing blots forms around both of the monsters, and then a _sound burst_ blasts Jawbreaker, making his ears ring.  He shakes his head and glares at the monster behind his current foe.  With a final blow of Erasmuz’ _spiritual weapon_, the first beast falls, and Jawbreaker grins as he moves into position to charge the other one.

Nara, meanwhile, has summoned a celestial badger from the Upper Planes.  This new combatant springs forward and rips at the monster, biting and clawing fiercely.  Nara then proceeds to pull out her mace and begins to move towards the thing, ready to engage it in combat.

Before she can move up that far, however, Jawbreaker charges forward, yelling a battle cry as he does so.  Unfortunately, the monster’s reach proves greater than the halfling’s, and as he rushes towards it, it snatches him into the air with one of its tentacles!  Jawbreaker gasps in pain as the tentacle constricts, trying to crush him.  It bears down on him with deadly force.  Then it smashes him against the wall.  Blood pours down his face and the chief shakes his head.  Gritting his teeth, he bunches his muscles, bites his tongue, and rages- transforming into a bear!  With a roar, he breaks free of the tentacle.  

The monster suffers under a storm of blows.  Nara and the badger, as well as a summoned wolf that Ari brings into play, plus the bear that is Jawbreaker all attack.  The monster flails its tentacles in response, but it cannot survive the concentrated assault for long.  Soon Nara strikes a final blow with her mace, and the thing is slain.

“Wow,” says Ari, “those things are _disgusting._”

“I wonder what they are,” mutters Nara.  

The party doesn’t examine the bloated sack-things too closely.  They hurry past, into an open chamber about 40’ across.  Thick carpets of black moss grow in several places throughout it: memory moss.  They move cautiously through it, trying to avoid the obliviax, but there is more moss on the other side.  Uncertainly, they move forward, continuing down a wide passage dotted by more colonies of the obliviax. 

And suddenly, something rises up from the moss with uncanny speed.  Black moss whips up into a small humanoid form.  It stretches out a tiny arm towards Jawbreaker.  He feels something _wrench_ in his mind as the moss tries to steal his memories!  Another small form rises elsewhere in the chamber and tries to do the same to Ari, to no avail.  

“Look out!” the druid cries.  “Obliviax!”

The party begins reacting.  Federico casts _mage armor_ on himself, while the Yip that has accompanied them charges forward and kicks at one of the mossy figures.  Then the memory moss turns to him- and suddenly, the last thing Yip remembers is leaving the monastery with the halflings.  

“What’s going on?” Yip yells, confused.  Then, spying the obliviax before him, he gasps and takes a single, weak punch at it.  _I’ve been memory drained,_ he realizes.  

Federico begins japing and singing to inspire courage, but he starts in surprise when another figure rushes into the room: a large, mossy figure with a great axe in his hands.  The kobold gasps.  Yip cries out, “Lord Obliviax!!”

Jawbreaker howls and charges one of the small obliviax.  A single mighty blow destroys it.  Nara smiles and blasts the other small one with a _searing light,_ and it shrivels and dies.  

“Get him!!” cries Erasmuz, casting _divine power_.  He grows mighty and puissant, pulling out his dinky little rapier.  Meanwhile Jawbreaker and Yip ready a torch and some oil.  Lord Obliviax gestures, and Jawbreaker drops his torch, pulls his sword and chops at Yip! 

“Yipe!  Get away!  Don’t attack me!” Brother Yip cries, tumbling away from the mind-controlled Jawbreaker.   But the barbarian presses forward.

Erasmuz casts _shield of faithlessness_ and Federico _greases_ the area beneath the lord of the memory moss.  Lord Obliviax keeps his balance, and moves in, swinging his axe.  It whizzes through the air, shearing off of Erasmuz’ _shield of faithlessness_ harmlessly.  Lord Obliviax laughs ominously.  “Fools!  The _Axe of Oblivion_ will destroy you!”

Federico begins firing _magic missiles_ at Lord Obliviax, and tries to move to keep out of range.  Unfortunately for him, this draws the attention of the dominated Jawbreaker, who charges and smashes into him, inflicting a deep wound on his shoulder!  “Oh no!” Federico squeals.  “Chief Jawbreaker, it’s me, Federico!”

Lord Obliviax looms ominously over Erasmuz, brandishing the axe.  “Hey, buddies, a little help here?” Erasmuz squeaks piteously.  He pokes his rapier at Lord Obliviax, but things aren’t looking good- 

Suddenly, a pair of red-hot worms burst into existence, summoned by Ari.  The thoqquas flow forward like lava, attacking Lord Obliviax and setting him afire!  The moss master screams in pain and indignity, then slashes out at Erasmuz, cutting him severely.  “I shall destroy you all!” Lord Obliviax threatens.  

Federico tumbles away from Jawbreaker and _suggests_ that he attack Lord Obliviax.  For a moment, Jawbreaker seems confused as the conflicting magical controls compete within him for dominance, and then he turns and charges towards the burning moss lord.  He leaps to the attack, hacking into Lord Obliviax’ upper body. Lord Obliviax staggers back, and the thoqquas fall upon him.  With a scream, he is destroyed!

Panting, our heroes watch the moss lord’s body curl and crisp.  The _Axe of Oblivion_ remains, but it rapidly proves a mistake to touch it, as Naomi finds out.

_*Next Time:*_ Naomi’s Mistake!


----------



## the Jester

*Naomi's Mistake*

“Islands ho!” cries the man in the crow’s nest.

Sailors who were idle only seconds before suddenly begin bustling about, doing sailor things.  To most of our halfling heroes, this is incredibly baffling.  Most of them are, if the truth be told, a little afraid of the water; it would never occur to your average halfling to join the crew of a ship.  The very thought would make your average halfling shudder.

Suddenly she’s somewhere else, her entire arm kind of feeling as if it has just undergone a terrific shock.  “Are you okay, Naomi?” asks a halfling she doesn’t recognize: a sinister-looking bald fellow with an evil-looking goatee.  Shaken, Naomi looks wildly around herself.  She is underground, in some sort of mossy cave.  There is the smell of fire in the air, and near her is a great axe that is much too big for her.  She is surrounded by people, but... she doesn’t know them, for the most part.  

“What’s going on??” she exclaims, confused.  “Who are you?”  She recognizes Federico and Jawbreaker, but nobody else.  “What’s happening??” she demands.  “Where am I?”

“What last thing you remember?” Jawbreaker asks her.

“Uh, we were sailing for some islands, looking for treasure from a sunken ship...”

“Whoah!” Jawbreaker exclaims.  “That long time ago!”

“What do you mean?”  Naomi demands.

“You’ve just had your memory robbed, of the last however long,” a halfling female that Naomi doesn’t recognize says.  

“Do I know you?” 

“Oh, wow,” says Nara.  

***

It takes a little while to calm Naomi down, and the lesson learned is this: _don’t use _empathy_ on the Axe of Oblivion._  Even just touching it is hazardous; Federico loses a day’s worth of memories from doing so.  The party manages to build a carrying sling for it that doesn’t require anyone actually come into contact with it, and then they turn and ascend towards the surface. 

With the defeat of the mind flayers and Lord Obliviax, any opposition that might have once existed evaporates.  Our heroes are unopposed as they return first to the chasm, and then- after some rest, once there is some daylight- up and back out to the monastery, where Master Yip congratulates them on their success.

“Now we need to finish off Stackler,” says Nara.  She clenches her fists.  A predatory smile steals onto her face.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes vs. “King” Stackler!


----------



## the Jester

Whoops, just realized that I mixed up Federico, who lost a day's memory, and Naomi, who got the real zap on her head.   

Fixin' it now...


----------



## the Jester

From the mountain monastery of the Yips, our heroes move back down onto the plains of Zacradose.  It takes most of the next week to bring Federico up to speed on the events that the Axe of Oblivion sucked from his memory; from the Dogtooth Isles (Federico doesn’t even remember Dogtooth, or the loss of Timothy, or... so much else!) to the present is an empty space in the halls of his mind.

On the way down, our heroes pause long enough for Ari to find and make friends with a massive grey wolf.  Then they find themselves in the middle of a disorganized revolution, seemingly torn between conflicting leaders and without much overall direction.  “These guys are never going to make any real change like this,” complains Nara.  “Where’s the _leadership??”_

As it turns out, of course, the leadership had gone off to try to destroy Stackler’s mind flayer puppeteers and their ally, Lord Obliviax.  In other words- _our heroes are the head of the revolution._  And, of course, since their memories had been robbed by Lord Obliviax and his memory moss- they remember none of it.  

Still, once the situation becomes clear (or at least, a little less murky), the halflings (and their kobold allies) seize the reins of the rebellion, and in a few weeks fires are burning throughout the island as Stackler’s troops attempt to put down the guerillas that oppose them.  According to the party’s immediate subordinates, they had arranged some kind of major distraction in the north while a smaller force attacks Stackler City (“King” Stackler’s capitol).  But even this smaller force is a distraction, as well- so that our heroes can enact an audacious plan that they came up with during the time that they cannot remember: they will sneak in through the sewers, emerge within Stackler’s palace via a hidden grate that a disloyal architect had informed the revolution about, and capture or kill Stackler himself!  

“Cut off the head,” Erasmuz says, rubbing his chubby hands together, “and the body will perish.”

So, for a few days, all they can do is wait for the appointed date.  So, naturally, Tron busies himself smoking crahk, which a few officers of the revolution are more than happy to surreptitiously- and freely- supply him with.

***

The assault on Stackler City, consisting mostly of archers and irregulars, doesn’t have much of a hope in a fair fight.  Loyalist troops ride and march out to attack any revolutionary troop concentrations that reveal themselves, but the constant harassment of arrows- many of them soaked in pitch and set aflame- keeps any serious sorties from coming out.  A few confiscated catapults and ballistae allow the revolutionaries to pull almost all of Stackler City’s defenders to the southeastern side of the city (where the main thrust of the attack is coming), but occasional flaming arrows from the other sides keep the defenders moving around the walls constantly, trying to prevent any force elements from gathering against a mostly-unprotected section of wall.  Precious men are diverted to lookout posts, just as the revolutionaries had intended. 

The largest single grouping of revolutionaries rides out on garen, galloping for the gates under cover of a volley of flaming arrows.  Bare instants before they reach the gate, a catapult stone sails into it, knocking the portcullis from its chain and sending it bouncing past the wall and into the side of a shop within the city.  The rebels bellow war cries as they charge in, meeting the loyalist defenders of the gate.  Pikes, glaives, swords and axes stab, swing, chop, thrust, parry and block.  The sound of war rings through the streets.  For a long moment, the defenders waver- and then they are reinforced, at the last moment, by a second squadron.  They hold against the revolutionaries, and another squad of archers atop the wall is rushing to fire on the aggressive rebel cavalry.

Just in time, the attackers wheel away and retreat, leaving a dozen defenders wounded and half that many dead.  Two of the attackers fall as they retreat, taken from behind by the archers.  A few more fell against the city’s defenders.  The rest gallop away, curving off to the left.  The sergeant of the soldiers defending the destroyed portcullis begins bellowing for wood and stone, and the defenders begin creating a makeshift barrier.  Then a ballista bolt slashes through the defenders, doing horrific things to flesh and bone.  The cavalry unit swings back around, and as revolutionary archers fire a volley at the city’s protectors, the garen swing into charge formation.  

This time, the defenders break.  They are fighting for money; the attackers are fighting for their freedom, for ideals.  In the end, given anything like equal troops, there is no doubt as to who will win.  The revolution does not have the gear of Stackler’s loyalists, but they have heart.  As the defenders’ morale breaks and they start to flee, a great cheer rings out from the rebels assaulting the city.  

The cavalry moves in, hunting enemy emplacements, and soon the other revolutionaries rush the city as well.  There is no holding them back.  All over, the story is the same: once faced with death in combat with no city wall to hide behind, Stackler’s troops lose their stomach for fighting.  Many flee; others surrender.  And when the halflings that have led them to this pass emerge on a balcony of Stackler’s palace bearing their would-be despot, the rebels cheer and the loyalists lose much of what heart they have left.  Some few, especially those led by especially cruel, especially loyal men, continue the fight.  The last of it won’t end for almost a week.  But the battle has clearly fallen to the rebels.  

The next few days are a matter of cleaning up.  The revolutionaries ask politely for Stackler’s crown, but our heroes were kind of thinking it was loot.  A discussion begins, but does not end, about what to do with it.   Several of our heroes suggest giving it up, while several others suggest keeping it until they are somewhere where they can sell it.  Meanwhile, it is becoming apparent that something new needs to be set up to govern the island; and the rebels are looking to our heroes for help.  In comic misunderstanding, one of the local aristocrats declares Naomi “Queen of the Halflings” in a stirring speech about the future of Zacradose.  She just snorts with laughter and looks for something to do to get her out of town for a while.  After asking around, she ascertains that there is a small outlying halfling village that is occupied by Stackler loyalists.  When our heroes investigate, however, the occupiers can’t wait to surrender.  They know that the gig is up.  

The party makes the acquaintance of two new halflings worth mentioning during this time: Feldspeth and Rock, a pair of local rangers from the oppressed town.  While Feldspeth remains behind in the village, Rock joins the party’s wanderings, at least for the time being.  Whether he will stay with them upon their departure from Zacradose, none can yet say.

The village feasts them as only a halfling village can, and then the party returns to Stackler City- which the halflings decide to rename Bacon Hill, and begin spreading the word to that effect.  Tron stays well-supplied with crahk, thanks to his friends in the revolution.  

Stackler is put on trial, but it is really a formality.  A few days later he is hanged by the neck until he is dead.  Now the remaining loyalists throw down their arms; there is no point fighting for a dead man.  Amnesty is now their only hope.

The party’s internal discussions turn- as they often do- to the Prophecy of the Halflings, and our heroes begin discussing who might know something about it.  Great halfling sages or scholars; perhaps powerful beings from the other planes.  Maybe another elemental weird; it was, after all, a water weird that gave the party their first clues about the Promised Land, and spoke unto them the Prophecy.

Then the party finds a very interesting lead, at least about a hole in their memories.

One of the mysteries from the missing period in their memories is the tattoo they all bear now (except for those, such as Tron and Rock, who were not with the party previously).  On their left forearms, each of the clan wears a unicorn tattoo, done in Naomi’s style.  Obviously, this is a very weird choice for her; even the one on her own arm, which is in a state of obvious sexual excitement and looks quite lascivious, still has a certain noble and good quality to it just by virtue of the fact that it is a unicorn.  _Why would she put that on herself?_ 

One morning, word comes that there is a King of the Unicorns on Zacradose, in the northern woodlands.  More importantly, our heroes had apparently- also in the ‘lost time’ that they can’t remember- made alliance with him, for he had helped distract Stackler’s loyalists in the north.  

“Well,” says Nara, “I bet he can answer some questions for us.”

“Let’s go find out,” suggests Ari.

Our heroes head north.

_*Next Time:*_ King of the Unicorns!


----------



## the Jester

*Party Roll Call*

Our heroes presently consist of:

*Tron*- male halfling soulknife 8; N.  Tron is addicted to crahk, a dwarven crystal that, when smoked, has powerful narcotic effects.  Fortunately for him, certain members of the revolution (that our heroes just helped overthrow the former government of the self-declared "King" Stackler) have freely provided him with all could want, no strings attached.  Tron's wisdom is 1.

*Naomi*- female halfling psion 5/elementalist 4; LE.  Naomi would really like to eat humans.  She's disgustingly fat, even for a halfling.  (She is working on taking the Willing Deformity (Obese) feat.)  Naomi has just lost over a year's worth of memories, thanks to an attempt to use her _empathy_ power on the _Axe of Oblivion._

*Aristoclese "Ari" Broadleaf*- male halfling druid 9; N.  Ari is from the Underdark of Dyshim, a jungle island where our heroes beat back the encroaching forces of Governor Stackler months ago, before coming to the island of Zacradose to overthrow him.  He's one of the more sensible, less insane members of the party.

*Federico Flapjacks*- male kobold bard 6/sorcerer 3/jester 1; CG.  Federico is the "clan dog" of our heroes.  As a hatchling, he was saved from extermination by the halflings of the Flapjacks clan, and he grew up far different from other kobolds as a result.  The master of self-deprecating humor and a self-described master of first level spells, Federico has a strength score of 2, but only because he raised it by one point at 4th level.  He is the only current member of the party who has been around since the first game of this campaign (as Martini's player moved a little ways away and is no longer free to come game ).

*Erasmuz*- male halfling wizard 1/psion 1/ranger 1/ex-monk 2/ur-priest 4; NE.  Erasmuz keeps his head shaved but wears a dark goatee; in short, he looks like a halfling Anton LeVay.  Erasmuz keeps his beliefs close to the vest but is able to heal; thus, the party assumes he is a cleric.  In truth, he is an ur-priest, a hater of- and stealer of power from- the gods themselves. 

*Jawbreaker*- male halfling barbarian 7/bear warrior 3; CG.  The Chief of the clan, but more or less appointed by chance when a clan of goblins negotiated with the party and started treating him as the chief.  It stuck, in a sort of tongue-in-cheek way.  Jawbreaker is one of the oldest remaining party members at this point.

*Nara*- female halfling cleric of Coila 5/prophet 5; LN.  Nara has seen strange visions in the past.  Like Erasmuz and Ari, Nara joined the party on Dyshim after a near-tpk at the hands of yuan ti.  She worships Coila, a goddess who has only recently arrived on Cydra.  (Those of you who have read my other story hours might recognize Coila as the goddess worshipped by Sheva, Angelfire and Marius.)

*Rock*- male halfling barbarian 4/ranger 3; N.  Rock _just_ joined the party.  We don't really know much about him (? could be a her, but I don't think so   ) yet.  I'm sure we'll find out as we go along, though!


----------



## the Jester

_*8/17/371 O.L.G., 2:30 p.m., northern Zacradose*_

In the woods in the north of Zacradose, our heroes meet the unicorn king.  Once again the hole in their memory proves telling, as the stallion recognizes them.  After some conversation, it becomes apparent that they have met before, and that they actually have an alliance.

“You don’t remember, do you?” the unicorn king whinnies.  “Ahh, Lord Obliviax’ work, I’ll wager.  But because you are here, you must have succeeded despite whatever memory loss you suffered.  And Stackler?  Has he been overthrown?”

“Uh, yes,” replies Ari.  “Uh, and thanks for your help.”

“What do you know about these?”  Naomi thrusts her blubbery arm forward, her palm up.  Along her forearm is a tattoo (done in Naomi’s own style) of a unicorn.  Most of the party members bear similar tattoos in the same place.

“It is my sign,” the king responds.  “You all agreed to wear it as a symbol of our alliance.  You don’t remember about the woodsmen either, do you?” 

“Woodsmen?  Umm, I guess not.”  Naomi sighs.

“You had agreed to remove some woodsmen north of here, who are infringing upon some sacred areas by going too deep into the woods.  Stackler’s men allowed them to do as they pleased in the sylvan glades.”

Our heroes agree to fulfill their half of the bargain that they don’t remember making.  After all, from all reports, the unicorns had more than done their part in distracting the bulk of the forces loyal to Stackler when the final battle had come.

After some discussion, our heroes begin attempting to convince the unicorn king to become King of Zacradose.  He seems to take the possibility very seriously, and promises to consider it.  “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about woodsmen ever again,” Federico points out.  

“Do you know anything about prophecies?” asks Nara.  “Because we are trying to follow one to the halfling Promised Land.”  Naomi comes up and exposes her fat thigh.  Tattooed there is the so-called “halfling prophecy” that the party received from the water weird on Dyshim.  They read it off again:  _“Long have your kind sought your way to the Promised Land.  Know this: it is behind you.  The homeland of bread and butter, the place of mead and milk, the fields of strawberries, the cows that give cream, the orchards of apples from which springeth pie- all these things are there, waiting to be plucked like plums from the tree.  But first the isle must be freed by small hands for small hands, which can work the isle to paradise in but three years.  Blessed is it, for it is the home of your rightful gods.  Their breath is upon it, causing berries to spring forth.  The fountain of wine makes the land drunk.  Yet by the drunk with power it was seized from your folk.  Now the power is gone, and still drunk are its dregs; but liberation awaits.”_

After a moment’s thought, the unicorn king suggests that the party visit a more appropriate individual to ask about this sort of thing- the forest oracle.  The unicorn king gives a loud bray, and a few moments later another unicorn comes in bearing a crown of grass and flowers on his horn.  The unicorn king gives this to the party, stating that it will show the oracle that they come in his name.  “That should help,” he says hopefully.  Then he has a satyr summoned, and orders him to guide our heroes to the oracle.

Thus it is that, in short order (albeit after the satyr extorts a few minutes of tender loving from Federico and Tron), our heroes find themselves before the oracle.  The party shares a strange vision that the oracle tells them is of a place called Red Mountain.  “You will find more there,” she tells them.

“These woodsmen we’re supposed to deal with are on the way,” points out Federico.  “Why don’t we take care of them first?”

Once that is agreed upon, our heroes strike out for the unicorn king’s woodsman problem.  On the way, the party has a brief battle with a small pack of dire wolves, but the halflings repel them fairly easily, slaying some of the wolves and allowing the others to flee.  

***

_*8/18/371 O.L.G., 11 a.m., marching north through the woods*_

As the party comes closer to where the woodsmen are, Ari takes on eagle form and flies overhead to scout.  He wants to make sure that our heroes see the woodsmen well in advance of their seeing the party, just in case.  Meanwhile, on the ground, Federico, Nara and Naomi have a talk about eating humans.

Nara says to Naomi, “You know, it’s funny- you talk a lot about eating humans, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do it.”

“Yeah, you’re right- I don’t think I have, since we met.”

“I’m telling you,” Federico chimes in, “you shouldn’t eat sentients.  That’s a big taboo.  It’s like cannibalism.”

“No it’s not,” Naomi retorts.  “That would be if I was eating _halflings._  Human is _totally_ different.”

“I’m just saying,” Nara states, “you should put your mouth where your mouth is and follow through.”

“Oh believe me,” Naomi replies, “I will.  Frankly, I think it’s _tragic_ that I haven’t gotten to taste any human yet.”

The discussion goes on, off and on, until Ari returns and turns back into halfling form.  Overhearing the conversation, he butts in, insisting that, rather than eating humans, the party should work for a peaceful resolution of whatever human issues they have.

“No issues, just wanna eat ‘em,” Naomi explains.  “We may have to kill a few, so as to harvest some thumbs.”  She then proceeds to discourse with Jawbreaker concerning the proper harvesting of human thumbs.  “I recommend cutting them off when they’re young,” Naomi declares. “That way their arms don’t develop too much.  If they get too much muscle, it makes them stringy.”

Jawbreaker isn’t too interested in the topic, frankly.  He just shakes his head with a snort. 

“Well, regardless, let’s put this discussion on hold and go deal with the humans,” Ari says.  “The camp is only about a mile and a half ahead, along a river.”

Naomi licks her lips, but the party decides to try negotiating with the woodsmen first.  When they reach them, it is fairly easy to convince them to leave; after all, these men might be good at cutting down trees, but they don’t have any interest in fighting a group of powerful adventurers- especially when they realize that the party represents the tentative new government.  The woodsmen promise to leave the next day, and by dusk they have made impressive progress in breaking down their camp.

***

_*8/19/371 O.L.G., 11 a.m., the woodsmen’s camp*_

The humans are clearing out.  Our heroes keep an eye on them to ensure there isn’t any trickery, but everything goes smoothly.  Naomi catches the cook of the camp as he is packing his goods, and she demands his maple syrup.  He cowers and turns it over to her, and she leaves, sipping it straight from the jar.  Reaching the others, she passes it around.  

By evening, the last of the human camp is packed and most of the humans are gone.  A few of the woodsmen seem to consider staying the night, but our heroes give them stern admonishments to move on, and they do.  

“I guess we’ll move on towards this Red Mountain place in the morning,” says Nara. 

***

_*8/20/371 O.L.G., 3 p.m., Red Mountain*_

The journey to Red Mountain passes quickly.  The day is just a little too hot to be pleasant, and worse yet it is a wet heat.  The air is muggy; tunics stick to sweaty backs.  As the party reaches the foot of Red Mountain, a storm is starting to roll in, rumbling and full of thunder: a summer thunderstorm.  The party clambers up the mountain’s face, following a rough trail.  Part way up the mountain, Jawbreaker turns back and points.  “Look,” he says.  “There river that woodsmen camped along.  That their campsite.”  He chuckles.  “Mountain and river remind Jawbreaker of home.  Jawbreaker lived in mountains for long time.”

The group continues to ascend through fat drops of warm rain.  Lighting flashes and thunder booms.  The party pushes on as dark falls, finally making camp where an overhang gives some protection from the rain.  

“We should be able to reach the summit tomorrow,” Federico opines.  

“I get to keep any white rocks we find,” Tron whines. 

The storm blows out in the night.

***

_*8/21/371 O.L.G., noon*_

The party nears the top of Red Mountain, and suddenly they find an area dotted with snow.  Further up on a small plateau there is more of the stuff.  Even though they are tired from climbing, our heroes are excited by the sight of it; it has been a long time since they saw any snow!  A ruin sits atop the plateau.  Ruined pillars surround a great pool of snow.  Our heroes approach it after Federico casts _mage armor_ on those who will benefit from it.

As they approach, Jawbreaker cautions, “Remember- don’t eat yellow snow.”

“Right,” Ari says.  _I knew that._

Then, suddenly, there is a swirl of snow and something bursts from the pool- tall, serpentine, lashing back and forth, and made out of snow.

A snow weird.

“You come from my sister,” it states.

_*Next Time:*_ More clues to the Promised Land!  Government building!  Our heroes’ new ship!  And more!


----------



## cold1s

*Apocryphal Conversation to Correct Jester's Error about Ari*

“No, thanks, anyway.” Replies Ari to Erasmuz in the later's native tongue, Undercommon, or Ondercommon as the small weird looking deep halfling calls it.  Ari eats very little for a halfling and the deep-halfling delicacy Erasmuz offered looked a bit too slimy.  
“Besides, I'm still not sure about that guy”  Ari has witnessed Erasmuz cast a spell to conceal his philosophical leaning.  Assuming all fellow adventures deserve some privacy, Ari said nothing, but he keeps that fact in mind.

“No problem, buddy, maybe later.” Erasmuz concludes. 

“You dark halflings sure eat strange things.” remarks Tron as Erasmuz walks away.

“I'm NOT a deep halfling I'm forester of...” Ari sees the krach smoker recoil a bit. 
“Sorry for snaping, but I'm all surfacer.  Berk-born and proud of i! I did adventure with Nara and Erasmuz in the Onderdark for awhile.”  Ari looks dramaticly to the middle distance “Yea, we sure kicked...”

“Oh.” replies Tron, but is already distracted by a pretty stone on the ground.
"I can get some money for this." murmurs Tron to himself.


----------



## Alcar

*ShaazaM*

sOMTIMeS tHe pUrsUit of craHk leaVes Me TireD aND dePleTed


----------



## the Jester

_*8/21/371 O.L.G., 1 p.m., Red Mountain*_

Our heroes are shocked.

So long ago that it seems a lifetime- a time that Naomi doesn’t even remember, thanks to the Axe of Oblivion- they received a prophecy, which they have come to refer to as the Halfling Prophecy, concerning the Halfling Promised Land.  It came to them from a pool-bound serpentine figure composed of water.  

Now, following the clues scattered by the fey folk, the party has come here- to another pool, and another weird; but this one is composed of snow rather than water. 

Still-

“You come from my sister,” it says.

“Yes-” Ari begins, but the snow weird pays him no attention at all.  It simply continues speaking.

“You come from my sister,” it repeats.   “I speak of doom and boon.  You must go back, for your own good.  It is not your island.  You must go there, go back.  There you will find the hungry frog who impedes your folk from the ultimate recipe.  The Promised Land comes from a full stomach.  Only corn bread opens the way.”

“Mmmm, corn bread,” murmurs Nara.

“But what does it mean?” cries Naomi.

“Where Promised Land?” demands Jawbreaker.

The snow weird is already settling back into its pool.  “Go back,” it whispers.  

Silence settles over Red Mountain.

***

A search of the ruins turns up a new cookbook.  This is exciting; it is possible, our heroes consider, that it is a clue, or some kind of key.  Besides, that recipe for almond cake looks really, really good.  

“I guess it’s back to town, then,” mutters Erasmuz.

“Yeah, I gotta get me some rocks,” Tron declares.  The others shake their heads and sigh.  

So back to town it is.

***

Before our heroes know it, fall has arrived.  They are eager to get moving- where?  Back towards Strogass seems to be the way that the clues are pointing.  Zacradose will provide a ship, once some work is done on it.  But some of our heroes are reluctant to return to Strogass; Federico, for example, has a heavy fine weighing on him.

“Who’s going to collect it?” snorts Rock, one of the halflings that the party met while working against Stackler.  He has been tagging along with the party for the last few weeks, aiding them in their efforts to set Zacradose up to be self-sufficient, helping to promote the idea of the Unicorn King as sovereign over the isle.  

“That’s a good point,” Federico concedes.

“Why do you owe the Dark Empire money?” Brother Yip asks.

With a sigh, Federico relates the tale of the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment, and tells his cohort, “We were unjustly fined for releasing prisoners of this terrible place.  I mean, yeah, some of them- like Manson- may have needed to be locked up, but they did _terrible_ things to them in there!  For instance, they drilled holes in their heads and poured weird liquids onto their brains and stuff.”  He shudders.  “Anyway, we let the inmates out and got fined for it.”

The telling of tales goes on as fall turns to winter.  A Unicorn King?  What a strange idea; yet, perhaps if a council of human (and demihuman, of course) advisors were set up...

Spring brings explosive shoots of bright green on all the plants.  It also brings a basic accord on the new government.  Our heroes have been working hard, but in a way different than they are used to.  At least the Revolution has been keeping them fed appropriately.  Naomi has tattooed the new prophecy onto her left inner thigh (the original one was tattooed to her right inner thigh already).  

The ship that the people of Zacradose are refitting for the party is not yet ready, but it is getting close and it is going to be in great shape when it is done. 

And then, finally, as summer’s hot days waver over Zacradose, christened _the Promised Land,_ their ship is ready at last.  In the city of Bacon Bay, the party boards their ship and meets her captain and crew (who they arrange to pay by Tron’s handing over a rather enormous sum of cash to the captain for her and her crew to “shut the f*** up”, as Tron puts it.  The captain- her name is Tarth- and the party come to a quick agreement, as everyone recognizes that Tron is not the right person to be telling anyone what to do.  “Listen,” says Ari, “Nara will be our representative to you.  If (ahem) anyone else tells you to do anything, just ignore them.”

“I’d be pleased to,” grins Captain Tarth sardonically.

The crew consists of mostly humans, but there are several others, including a gnome, Jorky Fetch, that Tron takes up with.  Captain Tarth crosses her fingers.  _Jorky’s not that great of a crewman anyway,_ she thinks.  _Mayhaps he will be more useful keeping that addled ass off my deck._

The crew has one halfling on it, Penny Sandybanks (apparently a distant cousin of old Sandy, may he rest in peace).  An angry woman half-elf, a couple of half-orcs, a goblin and a merellin round out the crew.  It turns out that a second halfling lurks below decks; he is the cook, whose name is Tooter Lender, but whom everyone refers to as Bacon Grease.

It is a colorful crew, with as many nicknames as real names.  Blue Eyes, Stupid, Punch, Raw Fish, Pesky- a colorful and interesting crew indeed. 

In the months since their encounter with the weird, our heroes have accumulated one more major clue.  While waiting for their ship to be made ready, they had consulted with a sage who had told them the tale of the _Vast Explorer._  It was a halfling-captained vessel that had mapped and explored a great many islands and lands, many of them of special interest to halflings.  Several decades ago, she sailed to explore a barely-charted area north of Dyshim, and was never heard from again.  However, twelve years later, another ship had been in the general area and had sailed into a strange yellow sargasso that smelled like rancid mustard.  There they had seen several ships mired; and one of them was the _Vast Explorer_.  But before they could investigate too thoroughly, they were assaulted by a strange lobster-monster of huge size, and it took all the crew’s skill to survive the attack and escape the sargasso.  It seems likely that, if any clues are to be found, the _Vast Explorer_ may be a good place to look.

So it is that Nara gives Captain Tarth the word: “Sail north- north of Dyshim.”

“Aye,” she says, and the cries of the bosun are soon ringing out.  A great bustle of activity begins on the deck.  Slowly, _the Promised Land_ swings out to sea.

_*Next Time:*_ To the Mustard Sargasso!


----------



## the Jester

_*7/18/372 O.L.G., 3 p.m., at sea northeast of Zacradose*_

The navigator, Queffe Quaffe, is yet a third halfling on board the vessel.*  She takes sighting in the morning, afternoon and evening, using the sun and stars for her measurements.  She smiles confidently as she gets the ship further and further off-course through a few minor mistakes that compound over the first few days of the journey.  

But it proves not to matter, for in the afternoon of the third day of the journey, a pod of dolphins swims next to the ship, frolicking in the wake.  The merellin, Prikwikkakakak- who mostly just goes by “Prik”- jumps in with them for a while.  When she comes back, Nara asks, “Can you talk to them?”

“No,” the merellin answers.  “I speak Merellin, Strogassian and Whale, but not Dolphin.”

“They might know something about this sargasso,” Erasmuz suggests.  

Nara nods.  “I could talk to them with the right spell, but I don’t have it prepared.  In the morning...”

“If they stay that long,” Naomi says.  

Fortunately for the party, the dolphins do stay with the ship until morning, for they prove to know quite a bit about the Mustard Sargasso.  The dolphins tell Nara (via her _tongues_ spell) that their kind avoids the sargasso; the waters around it make them sick if they linger too close to it for too long.  Also, it smells and tastes funny.

“But can you guide us to it?” Nara entreats them, and they agree to lead the ship most of the way.  

When Nara tells Captain Tarth to follow the dolphins, the captain doesn’t even blink.  She just nods and shouts commands to her crew, who respond quickly.  _The Promised Land_ swings slightly to the east and the journey continues.  The only threat is Tron’s unfortunate habit of pooping in the party’s cabins.  

***

_*7/24/372 O.L.G., 11 a.m., at sea northeast of Dyshim*_

“Captain!  Sargasso!” calls Raw Fish from the crow’s nest.

“Well, that sounds promising,” murmurs Ari.

“Aye,” nods Captain Tarth.  

Nara hurries to the ship’s rail.  Several of the dolphins have gathered in the water below, chattering and clicking.  She casts _tongues_ and calls out, “Thank you!  Thank you very much!”  

“Be careful!” warns one of the dolphins.  “The waters here are no good.  Do not get caught- no ship can escape, once ensnared by a sargasso like this.”

“We will be,” Nara promises.  “Thank you,” she says again, and moments later the dolphins depart.  

“Now what?” asks Erasmuz.  “We should be careful about bringing the ship too close to the sargasso.”

“Oh, we _aren’t_ bringing the ship too close to the sargasso,” mutters the captain under her breath.  Louder, she adds, “We will send an away team in the launches.”

“Hey, it’s our ship,” Nara says.  

“If we are entangled, we’ll be stuck until we starve,” Captain Tarth snaps.  “We daren’t risk it.”  She sniffs the air.  There is a tang of rancid mustard on the wind.  “I can smell it,” she utters.

Jawbreaker just snorts. 

“The launches sound like a good idea,” states Ari.

The ship closes in until the sargasso is only about half a mile away.  By that time, the stench of the Mustard Sargasso has grown quite strong.  The seaweed that they can see is a mix of green, brown and yellow.  In several places, large clumps are visible, and along surface of the sargasso the party can see many different entangled ships, most no doubt merely rotting hulks.  

“That’s a lot to check out,” Ari points out.

“We find promised land,” Jawbreaker declares firmly. 

“Besides, we only have to search them until we find the _Vast Explorer_ and whatever information might be aboard her.”  Erasmuz smiles.  “It’s not so bad, buddy.”

“I’ll send one of the crew with you,” Captain Tarth says.  She scans the deck, then calls out to Queffe.  “You’ll be joining them when they go into the sargasso,” Tarth declares. 

“Aye, captain,” Queffe nods.

Within twenty minutes all is ready, and our heroes take a pair of boats in towards the sargasso.  The closer they get the stronger the reek of spoiled mustard becomes.  Huge mats of rotting seaweed stained unnatural colors are everywhere.  As they approach, the party chooses a derelict vessel, almost at random, and begins heading towards it.

As they approach, they can  see that they will have to clamber onto the seaweed mats to reach the ship.  They leap onto the thick vegetation, which doesn’t have any problem supporting their meager weight, and tie the boat to a thick clump of kelp-like tubes.  Then they proceed towards the vessel.

As they approach, Naomi sniffs the air.  “Hey, is something cooking?” she asks.

“There’s someone aboard!” exclaims Rock, pointing.  The others fix their gazes upon the ship’s deck, and indeed, what appears to be a gaunt human figure is standing up on the deck.  One of his arms is missing at the elbow, and a bloody bandage is tied tightly around it. 

“Hello!” calls Naomi.

“Visitors?” croaks the man.  He stumbles back away from the edge of the ship.  “Come, please, come up!” he calls. 

Our heroes begin to ascend, climbing the slimy side of the vessel.  When they reach the top, they find more haggard, ragged folk there.  A brazier holds a small fire, over which a length of meat is roasting.

Naomi does a double take.  It’s a human arm.

_*Next Time:*_ The Mustard Sargasso, part 2- the Cannibals!

*Queffe kind of falls into a special category, as she is a new pc.


----------



## the Jester

By the time Naomi notices the arm roasting on the fire (_smells like bacon,_ she thinks), the cannibals are already attacking.  From behind a slime-encrusted mast, their leader (whose name, though our heroes will never know it, is Strujonius) unleashes an _ice storm,_ pummeling our heroes with fist-sized chunks of hail!  The crew of the derelict screams a chorus of threatening battle cries as they spring forward, clutching stained and filthy greatclubs.  Though they are dressed in rags, they have managed to create crude armor from shells, bones, skins and rotting cloth.  They are mad from months or years of hunger, forced to rely on cannibalism to the point that they drew straws only hours ago to see who would sacrifice an arm.

The cannibals rush forward, beating at Jawbreaker and Erasmuz with their clubs.  Frenzied blows rain down at our heroes.  But they respond quickly.  Jawbreaker first whips out his axe, but a moment later he rages and shifts into black bear form as the cannibals pound at him.  He tears into them, ripping one of them down and injuring another. Queffe and Nara step up to fight, swinging their weapons and striking their enemies, but the cannibals are surprisingly tough.  

Erasmuz, meanwhile, grins evilly as he casts a _spiritless weapon_ at Strujonius, and he giggles in glee as he strikes the enemy across the temple, wounding him severely and stunning him momentarily!  He flicks his eyes across the deck of the ship; the battle is raging violently, with the cannibals all wounded but obviously still going strong.  Jawbreaker, on the other hand, is criss-crossed with wounds and bruises from the sargasso clubs of the cannibals.  He and Queffe keep ripping into the enemy, with the massive bear literally ripping one of them apart!  He then turns and tears the armor of another one apart. 

Foaming at the mouth, the cannibals scream and roar and swing their clubs, smacking our heroes about for quite respectable damage, thank you very much.  Strujonius growls and shakes his head as he comes to his senses, and then he gestures and calls out a loud invocation.  The seaweed begins _entangling_ our heroes!  

Erasmuz leaps out of the area.  Taking advantage of his momentary escape, the ur-priest speeds forward and punches Strujonius in the groin with all of his monkish training!*  His fist sinks into Strujonius’ crotch far more deeply than would be healthy, and Strujonius fall, stunned again, with a strangled cry!

Naomi channels the power of Fire and drops a _fireball_ on the deck.  It explodes with a terrific roar, searing cannibal flesh and dropping more of the vicious cannibals.  Then the fattest of the halflings (she stands around 2’ 7” and weighs in at 59 pounds) lashes out with her mind, _recalling agony_ on enemy after enemy.

Strujonius’ head clears again, and he pulls out his axe.  A tremendous blow against Jawbreaker leads the bear chief to roar at him- and rip him to pieces!  The cannibals, already enraged, roar again, but the tide has clearly turned.  Though one of them knocks the bear out for a moment, Ari’s druidic magic restores him to consciousness and Jawbreaker roars as he returns to the fight. 

It’s only a few more seconds before the last cannibal falls to a combination of Nara, Naomi and Queffe.

“Damn!” exclaims Ari.  “That was rough!”

“Yeah,” nods Nara, casting another healing spell on the badly wounded Jawbreaker.  “Those guys were completely insane.  They say there is strength in madness.” 

The party begins searching the boat, looking both for loot and for any sign of the vessel’s name.  There isn’t much of either one, unfortunately, though the dead spellcaster (Strujonius) does have a key- to what, our heroes have no idea. 

“Now what?” asks Nara.

“Back to the launches, and on to the next derelict,” suggests Queffe.

“Yeah, we may as well get on with it,” Ari sighs.  “There are a lot of them.” 

“Twelve, by my count,” Queffe says.

As they head towards their boat, however, our heroes are ambushed by some kind of undead that tears up from underneath them.  It is easily dispatched, but it is a reminder that the sargasso is far from safe.  The party moves back to the launch, in which they proceed towards the next derelict.  Fortunately for them, there is one only a few hundreds yards away.  As they move up towards it, they can see that it appears to be a Strogassian warship.

Ari whistles.  “That’s a piece of work.”

“And the sargasso got it,” replies Naomi softly.  Then, a little louder, “We must be careful.”  She strokes her chins thoughtfully.  

“It’s unlikely to be the _Vast Explorer,_” Nara points out.  “I doubt whether a halfling would be given command of a Strogassian warship.”

“We should make sure,” opines Ari.

“I need to take a crap,” Tron observes. 

“Wait ‘til we get out of the boat!” demands Ari.  Naomi backs him up with a _suggestion,_ and Tron subsides.  But he has already defecated in one of the boats, not to mention the party’s cabins on _the Promised Land_, their own vessel.  Ahh, the trials of traveling with a _crahk_-head.  

“Hey, look!” exclaims Nara.  She points at the sky.

A strange, butterfly-winged creature is flying through the sky.  It seems to be about the size of a halfling- albeit one with wings- and is headed their way.

“Uh-oh,” groans Nara, “it looks friendly.”

_*Next Time:*_ Dandylion Hoo!  The warship!  More trouble in the Mustard Sargasso!!

*Erasmuz is an ex-monk.  Here we see him applying his Stunning Fist ability.


----------



## the Jester

“Oh, can you help me?!” the odd figure cries.  Its colorful butterfly wings flap as it flutters through the air towards our heroes.  It is a small humanoid, halfling-sized but outlandishly featured, with dainty antennae and big bright wings.  

“Stand fast!” cries Ari.  “Who goes there?  What’s your name?  Whaddaya want??”

“Oh, please!” the figure implores.  She has, outside of the weird bits, an incredible- and undeniably halfling- beauty.  “I’ve been marooned here, and I just want to get off of this terrible, stinking sargasso!”

“Oh,” Ari replies, “why didn’t you say so?  Say, where are you from?  Which ship?”

“Are you a halfling?” Naomi asks, puzzled.  As usual, she is the blunt, socially graceless one.  But the strange figure doesn’t seem offended.  Instead, she shakes her head and answers as she lands about 20’ from our heroes.  

“I’m Dandylion Hoo,” she states, speaking quickly, “and I’m half halfling and half fey.  Please, will you help me?”

“Sure,” Nara nods.  “I’ll tell you what- you help us, and we’ll help you.”

“What are you doing?” Dandylion asks, a trifle suspiciously.

“We need to check out these derelicts,” Queffe pipes up.  “We’re looking for- what are we looking for?”

“We’re looking for the remains of the _Vast Explorer,_ which was captained by another halfling,” Ari explains. 

“What’s there?” the half-fey asks.

“We don’t know,” admits Ari.  “But we’re going to find out!”

“Hopefully clues,” elaborates Nara.  

“Maybe there’ll be some _crahk_ there,” Tron says hopefully.  He is scratching himself almost constantly and seems rather jumpy. 

“Yeah, maybe, uh, anyway, we’re hoping to find clues about the halfling Promised Land.  And then we’re getting the hell out of this place,” Naomi says.

“The halfling Promised Land?” 

“No, wait, don’t ask!” 

Ari tries to warn her, but Naomi is already throwing open her jiggling thighs to reveal the tatoos of the prophecies that the party has received.  Dandylion wrinkles her nose, but gamely reads along.  Naomi winks at the others.  Then, she says, “Look, the long and the short of it is, we are investigating these other hulks, and we’ve got a ship- a way out of here- when we’re done.  If you want to come with us, that’s fine, but you probably want to help us in the meantime.  The sooner we’re done, the more likely you are to actually _reach_ land somewhere else.  And where did you say you were from?”

“Strogass.”

“No, which ship?”

“Oh!” Dandy exclaims.  “I came from the _Big Shark._”  She gestures.  “I think it’s that one over there.”

“Did you just come from there?” asks Nara.

“We should search it for anything of use,” opines Ari.

“Well, I think we’ve got one more that’s closer, first,” Queffe gestures at the warship just a few dozen yards away.  She wrinkles her nose at the stench of the sargasso.  The party agrees, and they all board the ship in question.  Dandy, of course, flies up; the others climb up netting along the sides of the vessel.  Once on deck, they examine the rusty and rotting hulk in more detail.  It has an upper deck above the main deck, and our heroes head up into it to investigate.  Queffe, meanwhile, tries to brush away some of the goop and slime to reveal the warship’s name, just in case.  Unfortunately, she sticks her hand straight into a puddle of green slime!  She shrieks in pain, but Naomi jumps forward and channels the power of flame to eradicate the growth.  Ari applies a little healing and the party moves on, heading down into the below decks area after searching the upper deck and finding only seaweed and barnacles.  

Below decks, the hull of the ship seems to have weakened and given way, for a deep pool of water drops out of the belly of the vessel into the seaweed-choked waters.  Our heroes begin to search the area, when suddenly a strange, garen-like creature made out of kelp surfaces in the water.  

Ari cries out as it tries to charm him.  “It’s hostile!” 

Dandylion casts _cat’s grace_ on herself.  Ari can hear the invocations she is chanting; they are druidic in nature!  He casts her a quick glance, but then draws out and loads his crossbow.  Naomi tries a _recall agony_ on the creature, and it shudders, then changes to a smaller form- almost like a humanoid woman, but also composed of seaweed!

“What is this thing?” cries Queffe.  She tumbles over next to Ari.  Meanwhile Naomi continues a mental assault on it, surprised that it seems to be working but willing to use the fact to her advantage.  Nara and Dandy start a pair of summoning spells, and Tron starts hurling his mind blades at it!  Wounded, the thing tries to retreat, but the summoned creatures are sharks of one form or another, and soon the thing is torn to bits. 

“Sweet, maybe we can get some money for that,” Tron says.  “And get me some _crahk._”

The others sigh.  Ahh, Tron. 

A search of the hold and the pool in the belly of the ship turns up the treasure of several previous victims, as well as their bones.  The treasure consists of 1700 gp scattered about (it takes about half an hour for the party to gather the coins up with the aid of _water breathing._  Also down in the lair are a stoppered metal bottle containing a fluid that radiates magic, as well as some kind of magic wand and a magic ring.  There is some nonmagical full plate that the party decides to leave behind, as well.*

As the party starts to leave the warship, a large thing explodes upwards from a hidden, slimy pool amongst the tangles of the sargasso.  Roaring, it seems to have a fat body with a beetle-like head.  It is covered in barnacles and has both enormous mandibles and great, ravaging claws.  

Unfortunately, the creature manages to blind itself with a clinging length of seaweed, and before it can uncover its eyes, Tron leaps down upon it and slams his mind blade into it, triggering both his psionic weapon and his psychic strike, and the creature shrieks as its head explodes.  

“Whoo!” shouts Tron.  “Now give me all your white rocks!  Yeah!  Where’s the _crahk?_” 

“Calm down, he doesn’t have any _crahk,_” Naomi says.  “Focus!  Focus!  Stay focused!” 

“Where’s my _crahk?_” 

Again, everyone sighs. 

Back to the launch, then off to the _Big Shark._  It is empty, as Dandylion claimed.  By this time, it is nearly dusk.  

“Why don’t we camp here?” proposes Nara.  “We’ll just circumnavigate the sargasso’s main body, stopping at the various ships, unti we find the _Vast Explorer._”

“Sounds good,” Ari says.  “I can go tell Captain Tarth...”  With that, he turns into a seagull and flaps away, returning a short time later and changing back into his normal form.  The sun is just going down.  “All right, they know what’s going on,” Ari tells the others.

The sun slips behind the horizon.  

The party sets watches and settles in to rest.

*Next Time:* The party finds the _Proud Gnome’s Wife_!

*Unfortunately, as it turns out, this was a psionic item that the party missed.


----------



## the Jester

_*7/25/372 O.L.G., 8:45 a.m., the Mustard Sargasso*_

The strange stink of the Mustard Sargasso clings to the party.  The sunrise only accents the strange yellows and oranges in the vast mats of floating seaweed.  The derelict silhouettes in the distance give the view an eerie quality.

“This place is _stinky,_” complains Naomi as the group gathers their gear, straps on weapons and laces up armor.

“Part of it is Tron,” mutters Ari.  Indeed, the crahk addict has a tendency to defecate in the launches the party is piloting (as well as in one of the cabins on _the Promised Land_ itself!).  Queefe takes the tiller and points the prow of the lead boat, and soon the two launches are approaching the next ship.  Though the hulk is badly damaged by fire, it is still somewhat intact.  Our heroes squint at the markings on the ship and can make out a name: the _Proud Gnome’s Wife_.  

“It’s probably not our ship,” remarks Nara.  The others agree, but the party decides to check it out nonetheless.  After all, there might be clues, treasure or other interesting bits on board.

Indeed, when they board the vessel, they quickly ascertain that the fire damage looks worse than it is.  The deck is still stable enough to hold them.  They find a sealed barrel, which turns out to hold fresh water; but as they open the door that leads below decks, they are attacked!  Three strange creatures seem almost to boil forth, and suddenly our heroes are in a perilous battle!  Two of the three creatures are almost insect-like, yet they stand erect and seem clearly intelligent.  The third is even more horrifying, having lobster-like claws and a face with great blank eyes and a mass of writhing tentacles below it!

“Daemons!” cries Erasmuz.

Weapons clash with claws; flesh tears and rips.  Blood spills all over the deck, with our heroes backing off to gain enough room to fight.  Tron uses his _mind blade_ to devastating effect, and Naomi’s combined elemental powers and psionic attacks help beat the monsters back as well.  Nara is initially flanked and sorely beset, but she manages to _timeslip_ forward a few moments and barely escape death.  Soon the battle is over, with the strange fiends hacked down and defeated, but our heroes are wounded and have expended many of their best spells.  

As Ari and Nara apply some healing to Tron, the party wonders what the creatures were doing here.  “They could have been guardians or something,” suggests Naomi.

“Or maybe they were the creatures that burned and looted this ship,” speculates Ari.

“I wonder if we can get some money for anything on here,” Tron mumbles to himself.  “I need to get me some crahk.”

Continuing their search, our heroes find that the vessel is mostly empty of valuables.  However, they do find another barrel of water, a barrel of salt pork (which they instantly begin snacking on), a cask of rum (“Nice!” remarks Naomi.  “With this, and my ability to channel the elemental powers of water, I can turn seawater into rum!”), and a locked strongbox.  The box is metal and does not look like it will open without some persuasion.  Fortunately, Naomi has a flask of acid, and she uses it to burn the lock open.  

Within the strongbox are a bag that proves to have 55 gp in it and the log of the _Proud Gnome’s Wife’s_ captain.  After some reading, this reveals that the captain was a gnome named Palthar, and that his ship drifted into the sargasso in a thick fog.  By the time they realized what had happened, it was too late to do anything about it: they were ensnared.  Things went from bad to worse within a day, when a group of cannibals attacked the ship, leading Palthar to call yugoloth guardians for aid.  (“Aha,” says Dandy, “so that’s where the daemons came from!”)  Palthar’s last entry indicates that he was going to attempt to negotiate a truce with the cannibals.

“I’d say that his attempt to negotiate a truce may have ended badly for poor Palthar,” Naomi remarks with a titter.  She smacks her lips noisily.

“You are so gross,” Nara groans. 

“Well, we’ve searched this ship pretty thoroughly,” remarks Erasmuz.  “Why don’t we move on?”

The others agree.  Erasmuz puts the log back in the strongbox and carries the box itself to the edge of the ship, where he waits for one of his companions to reach the mat of seaweed .  He passes down the box and then clambers down the netting on the side of the ship to join his friends.  The box is passed back to him, and the party moves back towards the launch.  They are almost there when the seaweed below them begins to heave and undulate.

“What the-” Rock begins, but he doesn’t have time to finish.

In a spray of foul water and rotting coils of seaweed, terrible, water-bloated corpses begin to rise all around the party.  Their teeth are sharp and their long, blackened nails have toughened into claws.  The stink of rotting mustard rolls over our heroes, making them want to gag.  The undead begin shambling towards the party, snarling hungrily as rust-colored water pours from them!

“Look out, buddies!” cries Erasmuz.  He lays down the box and rebukes undead!  The nearest four undead quiver and begin to cower from him.  Dandylion pulls out a wand and dances forward, touching one of the water ghouls with it, and a _cure serious wounds_ discharges into the undead, destroying it in a pulse of positiive energy!

“Bah,” snorts Nara.  She channels negative energy like Erasmuz, and the remaining lacedons cower in awe as she rebukes them.  With all of them cowering, they are easy to destroy, and then our heroes manage to reach the launch.  

“Well, guys,” says Nara, “I think we should rest in the launch before we continue.  I’m not in any kind of shape to keep going.  Those yugoloths hurt me pretty badly, and I’m low on spells.”

“Yeah, I agree,” says Erasmuz.  

“Then let’s have lunch,” suggests Naomi, looking at the sky.  “I think we’ve missed elevensies.”

_*Next Time:*_ The _Vast Explorer!_  And at last, our heroes learn the answer to the question: *Where is the Promised Land?*


----------



## the Jester

_*7/26/372 O.L.G., 10 a.m., the Mustard Sargasso*_

“Promise me,” says Naomi.

“All right,” Nara sighs, “I _promise_ we won’t miss elevensies today.”

“Fine!”  Naomi’s fat face ripples into a smile.  She coos and gurgles with contentment as she leans back in the boat, her grubby hands digging into the folds of her cleavage and coming out with a piece of greasy bacon.  She starts munching on it with delight.  

“The next ship’s just up ahead,” warns Erasmuz over his shoulder.  Queffe grunts agreement.  Naomi mutters around her snack, but everyone perks up and begins to check armor straps and loosen their weapons in their scabbards.  This strange sargasso has already proven itself to be unpleasantly dangerous.  

“I wonder if we can eat any of the seaweed,” Naomi reflects.

“Eww!” squeals Dandy.  “Well, maybe.”

“I don’t know- remember, the dolphins said that it made the water all nasty.  I bet we don’t find any mermaids here, either.”  Erasmuz frowns slightly.  

The hulk they are approaching is clearly old.  It has been mired in the Mustard Sargasso for a long time- long enough to be almost completely coated in muck and seaweed.  Rot has set in; many of the planks squish slightly beneath the fingers and toes of our heroes as the party climbs up.  Rats scatter away from the adventurers as they clamber onto the deck.  Tron poops on the deck, and for once nobody objects: it actually seems to freshen the air a little, if you can imagine that.  Nothing of obvious value is visible.

“I don’t think that this is our ship,” Ari grumbles.  “It’s been here a long time.”

“Listen!” barks Rock.  The party hushes for a moment, and they can all hear the tell-tale squeaking of rats: lots of rats.  Certainly, there are plenty on deck.  They scamper away from the party’s feet, but not too far.  Many of them look hungry, almost feral.  Some are as long as a halfling’s forearm.  Black, grey and brown, some festering with obvious disease, some with seeping wounds upon them. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Ari suggests.  The others quickly agree, and our heroes drop back down off the ensnared vessel and return to their launch.

“Still want elevensies?” cracks the druid, and Naomi’s face lights up.

“Oh yeah!  It’s about that time!”  Cheerfully, our heroes pause to scarf down some cupcakes and jerky (though Ari, strangely for a halfling, instead eats only dry salt crackers).  Then they resume their journey, heading for the next derelict.

By the time they reach it, it is early afternoon.  Again, this ship is covered by muck and slime and stripped of obvious valuables. This time, however, they can clear the muck from her name: the _Favorable Trade Agreement._

“Well,” states Erasmuz, “this ain’t the _Vast Explorer,_ that’s for sure.”

“Right,” agrees Ari, “let’s move on.”

Slightly less than an hour later they find an abandoned launch mired in the sargasso.  Whatever people rowed it are long gone, and no clue as to their fate, origin or mission can be discerned.

“I hope it isn’t the very last one we check,” mutters Nara.

“With our luck, it probably will be,” sighs Ari.

***

_*5:10 p.m.*_*

The next ship has the tatters of a vibrant white sail still fluttering in the occasional wind.  Its deck has listed at a noticeable angle, and the slime and sea growth has grown onto the ship in many places.  Clearly, however, it is of a more recent vintage than the rat hulk ship, and as our heroes pilot the launch around the edge of the mat that has engulfed the vessel they spot her name.

The Vast Explorer.

“It’s her!” Ari exclaims.  

Our heroes whoop in joy.  They can get out of this place soon!  

Soon the group is on deck.  They begin searching the ship- an old-style caravel.  If there are any clues to the Promised Land...

They turn up a clue, all right.

The ghostly form of a halfling woman, dressed as a ship’s captain, appears on deck.  Our heroes gasp.  She lets out a moan and then a terrible cry: ‘My ship!’

“She must be the captain!” cries Erasmuz.  He initiates a force screen in the name of prudence.  

‘Halflings,’ the ghost says suddenly, looking around.  She gasps.  Spectral tears flow from her eyes.  ‘My kind.’

The party is rapt. 

‘My ship!  My quest!  The Promised Land...’ she moans.

“We, too, seek the Promised Land,” declares Ari boldly.  “Can you help us?”

She looks at him, her spectral face in torment.*  ‘Don’t know.  Yes!’  She gestures impatiently at the deck.  “Book!  Book!”

“There must be a book on board somewhere- her journal or log,” Nara says.  She smiles.  “Did you find the Promised Land?” she asks the ghost.

“Book!”

***

Below decks are the undead remains of several sailors.  The leader seems to be surrounded by some sort of drowning aura, and he is surrounded by a bit more than a handful of lacedons and a pair of wight lieutenants.  It doesn’t take long for our heroes to overcome them, though; and in the end Erasmuz has seized control of some of the lacedons with his ur-priest powers.  

After the battle is over, the ship is eerily quiet.  The only sound, within or without, is that of our heroes searching the cabins- until they find the captain’s.  And within- a book.  The captain’s log.  The log has a long set of entries detailing the halfling, Dorelle’s, scouring of the oceans for clues after receiving a prophecy: 

Long have your kind sought your way to the Promised Land.  Know this: it is not your island, yet you must make it so.  The homeland of biscuits that make their own, the place of juice and wine, the fields of corn and pipe weed, the cows that give cream, the orchards of apples from which springeth pie- all these things are there, waiting to be plucked like plums from the tree.  But first the isle must be freed by small hands for small hands, which can work the isle to paradise in but three years.  Blessed is it, for it is the home of your rightful gods.  Their breath is upon it, causing berries to spring forth.  The fountain of wine makes the land drunk, and drunk it has gone defenseless; and there are those that would leave you all hungry.  Drunk it was seized, drunk with power, and only drunk and with drink can it be freed from the dregs that hold it.  Only the fountain of wine can set it free.  And know that you shall fail, and die at sea; and you shall not rest until the feud is put to rest and the families drink together, and the island comes to your folk again. 

“Similar to ours, but different,” Nara muses.

“Anybody got any rocks?” asks Tron.  “Where’s that gnome at?”**

According to the log, Dorelle was put off by the line about failing and dying at sea, and the next few entries detail her struggle over whether to continue her quest.  In the end, she did so, seeking out a sea witch who tricked the Vast Explorer into the sargasso.  The last thing the witch said, mockingly, before she swam away is detailed in the log: ”The answer is right in front of you, and has been all along!  The only problem is that you wrote down what you heard, not what was said!”  Following this, Dorelle wrote: I think I have figured it out, and I am ashamed at how simple it was all along.  It is right there, on the charts, east of Dorovex.  Now if only I can break free of this sargasso! 

“Right on the charts...?” mutters Ari.  “Where’s Dorovex?”

“I know,” says Dandy.  “It’s a province in northeastern Strogass.”

“Well, but- that’s where the Promised Land is?”

“It says it’s east of Dorovex,” Ari points out.  “Where are the charts?” 

A few moments more of searching turns up the captain’s book of maps and charts.  Hurriedly, the party pages through it, until- “There!” exclaims Rock.  “Dorovex!”  

And east of it- off the coast-

Nara starts to laugh.  And laugh.  And laugh.  “We wrote down what we heard, not what was said, too!”

There it is, right on the map, just as the weird told them so long ago, behind them: Natchoor Island.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Ari murmurs.

Next Time: The return of Beau!!


*She was bound by spiritual forces that restricted her ability to communicate about her quest and the reasons for her existence as a ghost- actually, if the party can finish their quest, they will lay her to rest for finishing hers for her (although they probably wouldn’t even know it).

**Tron befriended one of the sailors, a gnome willing to smoke anything.*


----------



## the Jester

*The Return of Beau!*

_Beau’s head throbbed in agony.  The snake-man’s _bonebreak_ had broken the bones of his face.  He jerked painfully in the _web_ that held him and watched as Lundey cast a desperate _mending_ spell to try to stave off the burst of the small dyke in the back of the cave.  Then she vanished as she _blinked_ through the door.  From beyond came the sounds of battle, and then the door seemed to vibrate and shiver for a moment.  Beau groaned in pain.

Then Jawbreaker, in his bear form, crashed through the door, slamming it off of its hinges and propelling himself over it.  He was just in time: the dyke burst and water roared out and flooded the tunnel.  Beau gulped in a great gulp of air and then it hit, tearing the webs free from their anchors in the cave wall.  His face burst into a white-hot explosion of pain as he was swept away, nearless senseless!  Battered and rolled, Beau was rendered nearly senseless.  The water roared past, depositing him on the muddy floor of the cave in a disoriented, painful heap.

Slowly, as the sounds of _fireballs_ exploded nearby, Beau dragged himself up and managed to get his bearings.  _There,_ he thought, _the others are assembling at the stairway.  Got to join them..._  He staggered over to the party and groaned for healing.  As the party took stock of their resources, Sandy pulled out his healing wand and began trying to ‘trick’ it into working on Beau.  After a few moments, he succeeded.

“This is bad,” somebody said.  

Indeed it is.  The party is badly injured and their resources are fairly depleted.  The snake-folk did significant damage to the halflings in their assault.  The group elected to make camp.  Sandy and Beau waited for Lundey in the hallway below the stairs while the others retreated to the relative safety of the jungle outside.  Beau’s face was still broken, and he was in considerable pain.  His head throbbed.

Something... “Hey,” Beau painfully asked, “do you hear that?”

Sandy cocked his head.  From the direction of the top of the stairs, there came a sound- almost like chanting.  Nervously, he kept working on his _wand of cure moderate wounds_ until he finally managed to heal both himself and Beau several times.  Then the two of them crept up the steps to the door.  

“It’s not locked,” whispered Beau, after checking the door.  He pulled out his sword; Sandy pulled his spear, staying several steps below.  His dog, Rider, stayed immediately in front of him.

Beau hurls opened the door and gives a choked, horrified gasp.  There Lundey is- bloody and possibly dead in the great serpentine mouth of some kind of unholy snake altar.  A muscular in monkish garb stands guard before a snake as large as a man, with muscular human arms.  This terrifying abomination gestures and suddenly, Beau shrinks and changes, turning into a wee little garter snake.

Things are simpler.  There is fighting and confusion for another few moments, and then comforting hands pick snake up.  Stroking and a warm place to lay.  All snake needs.  Then there is more fighting, and new hands take snake.  These are warm, but soon hands put snake into a box.  The box is safe but not as warm as snake would like.  Snake comes out of box sometimes when hands open it, and there are many rats.  But now it is colder, and the air is wetter and tastes different.  Also it rocks and moves; the ground is wood.  Snake spends most of its time in box.  No sun; there is wood sky.

Eventually it stops rocking and the next time snake comes out of box sun is in sky.  Air tastes different; snake is somewhere new.  Lots of disturbance and ruckus.  Lots of rats.  Sometimes snake is underground, sometimes snake is under sky.  

Then snake’s head hurts for a while.  Things feel bad.  Air tastes very strange, very bad.  Mossy and snotty.  Not good tastes, although moss part strangely not bad.  Weird things around, snakes under face but part of face, not really snakes.  Strange, bad head hurt things.  Bad things.  Hands no longer come.  Hungry.  Rats.  Then hands grab, back in box, go back.  Under sun again.  No more head hurt.  

Then, after a while, wood sky, wood ground, rocking world with wet taste and cool air.  Just started- even in box, snake knows.  Hands come, pull snake out, and snake starts to stretch out._

Beau would fall down if he had been standing.  As it is, he gives a loud, “UH!!” of confusion.  “What- where- who- what’s going on?” he sputters, completely disoriented.

“Relax, buddy,” someone standing nearby grins.  “You’ve just been saved.”

“Who- who are you?”  Beau blinks a few times, then licks his lips.  He feels- lean.  He focuses on the other.  He is a halfling, too- a bald-headed one, with a black goatee, moustache and eyebrows.  He looks, Beau thinks warily, rather sinister.

“My name is Erasmuz,” the other replies.  “What do you remember?”

“I- I don’t know,” Beau stammers.  He tries to sort it out.  He remembers Lundey’s death, and then- what?

General contentment?  Was he a prisoner?  He can’t remember much of anything...

“You were my magic snake,” Erasmuz crows.  “I’ve been trying everything to find out what you were.  Every time I learn a new spell or power that would help, I’ve been casting it to try to figure you out.”

“What- what worked?”

“_Break enchantment,_” declares the sinister-looking Erasmuz.  “Now, who are you, buddy?”

“My name is Beau,” the former snake tells his- rescuer?  And, interestingly, Erasmuz’ face changes.

“Beau!” he exclaims.  “That travelled with Federico, and Jawbreaker, and...”

“Yeah!” Beau replies enthusiastically.  “Do you know my friends?”

“Sure, buddy!  They’re just up on deck, as a matter of fact!”

And so Beau returned to the party.*


_*Next Time:*_ Return to Strogass!  The quest for the Promised Land is on!!


*Beau is now Naomi’s cohort.  Naomi’s player is the same player who played Beau before he was _baleful polymorphed_ into a snake.


----------



## Brain

the Jester said:
			
		

> *Beau is now Naomi’s cohort.  Naomi’s player is the same player who played Beau before he was _baleful polymorphed_ into a snake.




Don't let Nara hear that.  I don't think she'd like being mistaken for Naomi.


----------



## the Jester

Brain said:
			
		

> Don't let Nara hear that.  I don't think she'd like being mistaken for Naomi.




Wow!  I just shoved my entire leg and torso in my mouth!  

As Brain pointed out, I misstated the situation slightly. My bad!


----------



## hippiejediz

Oops! Let's not confuse the fat chick with the hot chick.


----------



## the Jester

hippiejediz said:
			
		

> Oops! Let's not confuse the fat chick with the hot chick.




Although you have to admit, hot as you are, she's fatter than you are hot.


----------



## hippiejediz

the Jester said:
			
		

> Although you have to admit, hot as you are, she's fatter than you are hot.




Yeah, no contest.


----------



## the Jester

*Return to Strogass*

_*8/13/372 O.L.G., 3:30 p.m., at sea north of Strogass*_

From the crow’s nest one of the sailors cried, “Land ho!”

On deck, Beau and Nara exchang a glance.  _Strogass._  It has to be.  They were due.  

Soon- hopefully- with luck, and apparently with cornbread, they would find the Promised Land at last.  

Our heroes gather in the Captain’s cabin, filling the small room to bursting.  Captain Tarth winces and sighs, then gestures to a large set of sea charts pinned up on the wall.  “We should be just about here,” she growls, her finger stabbing out at the northern port city of Lox Pentor.  “We can put in for resupply here, though who knows what the situation is.  Still, there appears to be some maritime and fishing traffic, so things can’t be too awful bad.”

“I wonder what’s going on on Strogass,” muses Naomi.  “It seems like it’s been forever since I was there.”

“It’s hard to be sure, what with the Lord Obliviax stuff,” Federico whines.  There is a general grumbling chorus of agreement.  

“But hopefully we’ll find the Promised Land soon!” Ari exclaims, and everyone’s hearts lighten.

It is nearly dusk by the time _the Promised Land_ ties up along the piers of Lox Pentor.  Our heroes get off the ship and onto land for the first time in- has it been weeks?  It certainly seems like it.  Walking on solid ground again, Naomi lets out a deep sigh.  Although she certainly took the cook for a ride or two across dinner’s ingredients, the trip was mostly a boring expanse of time punctuated by the occasional worthy moment (such as when the party finally taught Tron to poop off the edge of the deck rather than in their cabins).   She is itching for something different.  “We should find somewhere good to eat,” she suggests.

The party end up at a fancy restaurant called Lambs.  Naomi uses her _metamorphose liquids_ spell to change a bucket of water into chocolate syrup, and Beau immediately pours everyone a shot of it.  Meanwhile our heroes are served an exotic frozen creamy treat the likes of which they have never before seen or heard.  Ari asks for the secret and is denied, and when several of our heroes press to meet the chef, they are denied as well.

“He’s got to be a halfling,” Nara remarks.

Naomi waves the waiter over and asks for shredded coconut.  He sniffs and proclaims that they do not serve it.

“I’m never eating here again!” Naomi belches.

“We can’t get it fresh,” the waiter sniffs.  “We serve only the finest ingredients.”

She gives him a measuring look.  “Oh,” she says, her tone more respectful.  “Well, I guess I can understand that...”  After a contemplative moment, she inquires about breakfast.

The waiter gives her a polite smile.  “We,” he declares, “have over 20 different ways of preparing bacon.”

That is the moment when all resistance breaks on our heroes’ part.  

“Where’s the nearest inn?” demands Naomi.

“Right across the street, madam,” replies the waiter.

“Excellent!” proclaims Naomi.  “I have to use the crapper.”

They spend over 1200 gp on dinner that night, and vow to spend much, much more tomorrow.  When they leave, Ari steals some spices, but nobody seems to notice- or care.

***

_*9/1/372 O.L.G., 9 a.m., Lamb’s in Lox Pentor*_

Breakfast is all our heroes could have asked for and more.  It is unbelievable, and only increases our heroes’ desire to meet the chef.  Could it be a Bakeswell, or better yet, a Flapjacks?* 

“It would be creepy if the chef was a human or something,” Ari says with an uncomfortable chuckle. 

“I wonder where that Tron guy is,” Beau says.

“We’re probably better off not knowing,” Ari answers wryly.

“Strange that he’d miss breakfast, though,” Nara nods.

“He’s probably off getting high on crahk,” Ari sighs. 

Although Ari is correct that the most likely thing that Tron would be doing is smoking crakh at this point, in fact Tron is _trying to score_ crahk.  And instead of scoring crahk, Tron is getting ripped off to the tune of 200 gp, then getting angry, attacking some thugs and ultimately being knocked unconscious by one of the neighborhood’s more notable citizens, who took offense at Tron’s abuse of the grocer’s tomatoes.

Regardless, breakfast is fantastic.  

“We’ll meet again for lunch, right, buddies?” asks Erasmuz.  “This place is great!” 

Our heroes can all get behind that, so there is quick agreement, and then the party disperses throughout Lox Pentor to take care of various individual concerns and needs.  Some of them simply buy a thing or two; others take a bit more active part.  Rock gets into an unarmed cage fight with an elf called the Sissy- who casts spells in the fight!  Rock still manages to beat the Sissy into unconsciousness, but it’s not nearly the one-sided fight that he had expected. 

When it’s time for lunch, a fellow that most of our heroes hadn’t expected shows up.  He’s a human, and Erasmuz greets him warmly.  Apparently, the two of them had become acquainted earlier in the day.  

“My name is Surly,” the fellow says, “and I might have something you’d be interested in.”

“Oh yeah?” asks Ari.  “What’s that?”

“A map,” the human replies, “to a set of lost halfling ruins.  Actually, they were a lost race of halflings, too, called the _jerren._”

Naomi cocks her head.  “Really,” she says, clearly interested.  “I’ve heard of these jerren.  Go on, I’m intrigued.”

“Yes, the fellow who gave me the map is the one who made it.  He’d sailed to these ruins and investigated a little bit.”

“Could you put us in touch with him?” inquires Ari.

“Alas, no, he’s, ahem, permanently out of touch, if you know what I mean.”  Surly draws a single finger across his throat.  “But I assure you, his word could be trusted!  And his chart is quite precise.”

“How far of a journey would it be?” Naomi asks.  

“You might say,” Surly replies slowly, “that it is... startlingly close by.” 

“Even better,” murmurs Nara.

“Yes, my friends raved about what he found for days.  It was mostly incomprehensible to me- weird stuff, cornbread and stuff like that.”

“Cornbread, you say?”  Naomi stands up.  “How much for the map?”

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes begin their investigations of the Sunken Temple of the Jerren!


*The party began as a group of Flapjacks, and still somewhat identifies that way.  Of the pcs, I believe only Federico is technically a Flapjacks.


----------



## the Jester

_*Just off the north coast of Strogass, 3:30 p.m.*_

_The Promised Land_ sails along, heading west.  They are following the map that they purchased from Surly- and their destination is a mere twelve miles west of Lox Pentor.  Indeed, from the crow’s nest Ari cries out, “There they are!”

The map shows the sunken temple in the cradle of a series of five small offshore islands about twelve miles west of Lox Pentor.  The islets are about two miles offshore.  As the ship approaches, Captain Tarth barks, “Back oars!!  Furl the sails, take ‘em down, boys!!  There are shoals ahead!”

The ship slows to a halt and drops anchor.  Our heroes and Captain Tarth consult.  “We can send you to the isles in a launch, but be careful,” Tarth warns.  “The sea is choppy and I can see some rocky bits just under the water.  If you aren’t careful, you’ll scrape and hole the launch.”

“I can _wood shape,_” Ari notes.

“And I can _make whole_,” Nara adds.

“That should help,” acknowledges Captain Tarth.  “Good luck to ye.”

“Send a couple of the men with us,” urges Nara.  “We need experienced sailors to help us navigate these treacherous waters.”

With a scowl, Captain Tarth agrees.  She sends Lanzor and Stupid with them.  Lanzor is a scowling man who once captained a Strogassian naval ship, and Stupid is a foul-tempered female half-orc who is, as might be expected from her moniker, extraordinarily stupid.  “They can both fight well, and if ye run into trouble you need someone that can fight with ye.  But take care of them as best ye can,” Tarth says.  

Then our heroes are off in a pair of launches.  The five islets that they are approaching form a rough semicircle.  As they move towards the isles, Ari assumes eagle form and flies overhead, taking in the aerial view.  When he returns to halfling form, he tells his friends, “There are definitely ruins on the islets, but it doesn’t seem like there is much at all left.  But in the center of the isles, there’s a central area that looks noticeably different than the surrounding water.  It looks _deeper._  I suspect it’s some kind of well or something.”

“Well, we should check out the islands first,” Erasmuz argues.  “We need to prepare if we’re going to go under water.”

“I have one _water breathing_ prepared already,” both Ari and Nara say at once.  They both grin.

“I still think we should do the islets first,” Naomi declares.

“I agree,” Rock nods.  

“Okay,” says Federico, “let’s just head for the closest one and work our way around.”

The launches edge their way towards shore.  Our heroes have thoughtfully split their number so that each boat has someone who can attempt a repair, and as the waves and chop knock the launches about across the shoals, this proves a wise precaution.  Both vessels slam, scrape and catch on various rocks and growths, and soon they both have water bubbling in.  Both are fixed, but Stupid’s skills as a navigator are being sorely tested.  The launch she’s piloting is swept sidelong into a jagged rock uprise, and the entire boat shivers as the side is staved in.

“Aw crap!” cries Ari.  He quickly bestows _water breathing_ on everyone, and they walk under the water to the first isle. 

The vessel that Lanzor pilots fares better.  He rages back at the waters, pushing with oars and pole against rocks and waves alike.  Though it is a rocky ride, he brings the boat in to the islet intact.  Soon our heroes are ashore- though cold and wet.

“Let’s look around,” suggests Brother Yip.

The first islet yields one interesting ruin: the remains of a lighthouse.  The lower 15’ of a 30’ radius tower remains intact.  Our heroes find that the ceilings are only about 4 ½’ high, sufficient for halflings but a terrible trial for bigger creatures.  “This _could_ have been built by jerren,” Naomi says thoughtfully, hopefully.   The ground floor of the lighthouse is a shambles, with a layer of silt about 2” deep strewn across the ground.  Shellfish and seaweed litter the place.  A quick look around allows our heroes to note that there are lots of bones and shells that are cracked open and empty and seem to indicate the presence of a nearby predator.  The central 10’ of the lighthouse is a solid support plug.  A stone stairway ascends along this shaft.

“Let’s see what’s upstairs,” Ari says, and leads the way up.

At the top of the stairs, where the second floor opens up, Ari is suddenly attacked.  Clustered around the stairway are four marine trolls!  Ari yelps as they begin tearing into him.  He tries to cast _barkskin_ on the defensive, but his concentration is shattered by the threatening posture of the scrags surrounding him.  Behind him Yip shouts, “Fall back!”  This sounds like a good idea to Ari, who drops back down the stairs.

This draws the trolls down, but it also allows our heroes to work together, and Naomi gets the chance to launch a _fireball_ that burns the trolls fiercely!  It would seem that her elemental powers are continuing to grow by leaps and bounds.  

The fight is fierce, but it does not last long.  Our heroes have grown powerful over the course of their adventures.  The scrags fall to the self-declared Halfling Action Militia- H.A.M.

After slaying the trolls, our heroes check the debris of their lair, where they find a great deal of treasure, including a magic wand and a pair of magical gloves.  The northern half of the room is dominated by a great metal vat with a spigot.  When our curious heroes check it, they find that it is rusted shut.  Tron forces it open, but breaks it off in the process, and lamp oil begins pouring sluggishly out of the vat and onto the floor.

“Crap!” exclaims Naomi. 

“Let’s take a quick look at the third floor,” suggests Ari, bustling up the stairs.  The third floor turns out to be exposed to the elements; it has no ceiling, and the guano of seagulls marks the place as a likely spot for gulls to hang out.  There is nothing of value up there.

The party reconvenes outside, in the open air.  Lanzor and Stupid squint at the sky.  The sun will be going down in another few hours. 

“We could probably walk to the next isle underwater,” Ari muses.  “Reduce the danger to the remaining launch.”

Nara nods.  “I could give everyone _water breathing_ that doesn’t already have it.  It lasts for hours.  We should have plenty of time; it didn’t take us long to search this isle, and the next one looks to be about the same size.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tron says.  “Maybe we can get some money for somethin’ we find over there.”

Thus, about forty minutes later, the party emerges from the water on the next isle.  

“Oh,” says Federico, “I forgot my feather.”  He turns to Stupid and _suggests_, “Hey, will you walk back to the other isle and get my feather from the launch please?”

Stupid scratcher her head.  She shuffles her feet.  And she turns and walks back into the turbulent sea.

“Stupid!” calls Lanzor.  He glares at Federico as the half-orc submerges, ignoring him.

Federico shrugs and gives a goofy smile.

On the second islet, our heroes find a huge crab, which they roast with fire elementals.  They are startled when a chuul emerges from a deep pool nearby and attacks them; however, they are more than a match for it.  After some discussion, they decide not to eat the chuul, but man!  That crab is tasty.

As night falls, the party discusses their strategy for the morrow.  “We should check out the central well,” someone suggests, “maybe tie some gnomes on a rope and dangle them over the well.”*

Clearly this plan needs refinement, but that’s a subject for tomorrow.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes continue their explorations of the Sunken Temple of the Jerren!

*Gnome on a rope has been a recurring joke in my campaign for decades of real time now.  I think it all started with the gnome Gepp, back in my Early Years campaign, who lost a jaw that way.


----------



## the Jester

_*9/3/372 O.L.G., 9 a.m., a small islet off the shore of Strogass*_

Our heroes spend the morning in discussion.  They are pretty sure that something nasty lives in the deep well between the islands.  It is both logical and obvious.  The only question is, what are they going to do about it?

Ari casts _commune with nature_ and determines that there are several highly unnatural things under the water- one of them, especially, seems to lead the others.  It feels _old_- so old that it has become native to Cydra, even if it was born... _elsewhere._  Frowning unhappily, he states, “I think this area needs a cleansing.”

The suggestion of hooking a party member onto a rope and using them for bait kicks off an interesting line of reasoning.  Given that the party doesn’t have a gnome, the plan’s next permutation instead involves dumping some kind of soup or stew down into the water in order to lure out whatever is down there.  This further evolves until someone suggests cooking up something foul and poisonous to either draw out whatever is down there or to weaken (or even kill) it.  

“Well, while I don’t endorse the use of poison all the time, especially when we’re just dumping it into the environment,” Ari says slowly, “I think in this case it may be warranted.  I doubt whether there are many natural creatures living down there now anyway.”

“Well, gathering stuff to do that probably take us a few days,” points out Jawbreaker.  “Let’s finish checking out the islands first.”

“Don’t forget, Bacon Grease might have something that we could use, or at least some spices.”*  Naomi grins, thinking of her grunting love match over the kitchen with Bacon Grease.  She sighs gluttonously.  They sure spread their juices in the crew’s lunch that day!

The party agrees, and soon they are searching the next isle.  While looking around, Chief Jawbreaker finds an old area of dried mud and muck that, from the looks of it, is almost always above the water.  It looks to have baked solid in the sun and never re-softened, and the perfect impression of a footprint is in the hardened mud- a footprint about as long as a halfling’s leg.  

“Giants,” Jawbreaker grunts.  He glances around.  The islet is nearly featureless; there certainly aren’t any structures tall enough for a giant to hide in.  He shrugs and the party keeps searching.

They find one more noteworthy feature on the islet: the skeleton of a 25’ tall giant lies stretched out in a depression, surrounded by broken rocks and spattered with the guano of sea gulls.  The skeleton is missing one leg below the knee.  It appears that the giant scratched some kind of glyph in the stones next to it before it died.

Federico squats down and examines the rune for a few moments before announcing, “I think this means ‘danger in the water.’”

“Shocking,” mutters Rock.

“Wow!”  Tron has picked up one of the guano-covered rocks.  “It’s a white rock!  I wonder if I can smoke it...”

“That’s not _crahk,_ that’s bird poop,” Nara sighs.

“You could try it,” Federico replies.  “Maybe it will get you high.”

Tron stares suspiciously at the rock, then thoughtfully puts it into his pocket for later use.  “There’s gotta be some _crahk_ out here somewhere,” he complains, rooting around amongst the rocks and mussels.  Naomi, meanwhile, has begun preparing second breakfast- though, as she squints at the sky, it might be more like brunch time.

“You know,” Erasmuz offers, “I might be able to animate that skeleton.”

“What!” exclaims Yip.  “That is horrible- blasphemous, sacrilegous!”

“No it’s not, buddy,” Erasmuz retorts.  “I mean, think about it- he might even get the chance to take revenge on his killer, if it was whatever is in the water.”  He gestures at the glyph.  “And that seems likely, right?”

Federico, Yip and Erasmuz debate the ethics of animating the dead for a while, but finally Erasmuz’ “revenge” argument wins the day.  The ur-priest pulls a large black gem from his pouch and places it within the eye socket of the skeleton.  Then he begins chanting and gesturing, almost seeming to mock the very invocations that he is using.  Slowly, the 25’ tall skeleton pulls itself up- and almost falls over!

“Crap, he needs a peg leg,” Erasmuz complains.  “I almost forgot.” 

Fortunately, the ruined isle has just enough rubble on it that the party can fashion a prosthetic for the skeleton.  Then Erasmuz climbs onto it, perching within its ribcage, and the party gets ready to continue their explorations.  “Hey, buddies,” the ur-priest suggests, “hop on and I’ll cast _air walk_ on him!”

So it is that the peg legged giant skeleton- named “Tiny” by our heroes- becomes a means of transport, and it’s off to the next isle, where the party finds a reasonable number of ruins- but no intact buildings.  Among the ruins of this islet, a thorough search turns up a trap door that is wedged shut by slime and muck.  Half an hour’s work allows it to be opened.  Below is a sodden chamber with 1’ of water at the bottom.  A rusted metal desk is the only remaining furnishing, but a simple cursory search reveals a sealed, lacquered box.  It opens with ease when Jawbreaker puts a little force behind the attempt.  Within it is a prayer book written in some sort of debased Halfling tongue.  

“Let me see it,” hums Naomi.  Her grubby paws scrabble at it.  After a few moments spent moving her lips while she reads, she cackles happily.  “As I suspected- it’s a work of the jerren!”

“How do you know so much about these jerren?” wonders Ari.

“Oh, uh, as to that, well,” Naomi grunts, “you might say that I have some jerren blood in me.”

The party stares at her.  “I heard the jerren were _eeevil,_” Federico says solemnly.  

“Well, they were known for a little stuff and things, but nothing to worry about,” Naomi mutters.  “Anyway, this appears to be a prayer book of some kind.”

“Prayers?  To who?” asks Nara.

“Zaamel, ‘Lord of the Darkest Depths,’” Naomi replies, flipping pages.  “Hmm, this makes sense.  We- I mean, the jerren have been known to summon or bind various creatures.  Maybe that’s what Ari sensed below.”

“What else is in the book?” asks Beau.

“Not much- it does mention Uldwin of the Sky, who appears to be Zaamel’s father, and Manos the Fisherman, Zaamel’s arch-foe.  Beyond that... maybe with more study, but who knows?  Like I said, it looks pretty much like a prayer book.”

“Get rid of it,” Erasmuz murmurs to himself, but nobody else hears him.  

“Well,” Rock says, “there’s one more isle over there.”  He jabs a finger to the south east. 

“Yep!”  Erasmuz grins.  “Hop on, buddies!”  He climbs Tiny’s ribs like a ladder and settles into the skeleton’s chest cavity.  The others hop onto various places, and Tiny begins _air walking_ the party towards the next- and last- isle.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes try to decide whether they like to eat seaweed or whether it likes to eat them!

*Bacon Grease is, of course, the halfing cook on board the party’s ship.


----------



## Brain

I'm proud of the airwalking animated giant transport system.  It kicked ass!


----------



## Alcar

Tron lost 250 gp


----------



## the Jester

_*Noon, approaching the last islet*_

“Look!”  Federico points.  “There’s a shape in the water!”  He quivers with fright, his little kobold tail tucked between his legs.  

“We could check it out,” suggests Erasmuz. 

“Island first,” Jawbreaker declares.  As he is the chief, debate subsides.  Besides, nobody _really_ wants to go into the water.  Dandylion Ho and Ari (who turns into an eagle) fly up above and circle the isle, hoping to see any danger before it sees them, but though there are a couple of ruined buildings, they see no sign of hostile life or real hazards.  A more thorough search by the group turns up nothing new, but as they examine the islet for clues Federico suddenly stiffens and starts talking to the air.  “Auntie!”  He looks around wildly.  “Where are you?  What’s going on?  Is that you?  Hello?  Hello??  Is anyone there?  Hello?  Auntie??”

“Are you all right?” Beau asks. 

The little kobold jester looks quite confused.  “She was just talking to me... didn’t you hear her?  No?  Wow...”

“What happened?” Erasmuz inquires.

Federico answers, “I heard my Auntie’s voice.  Didn’t you hear it...?  She was talking about poor Mama Flapjacks, and she asked me to come home...”  He pauses, looking thoughtfully at the others.  “Is there some kind of magic that will let you do that?  Send a message to someone far away?  It sounds like she’s still at home, on Strogass near the Western Precipice... How could she be talking to me here?”

“It must have been a _sending,_” Erasmuz opines.  “She could send you a message, and then you could reply in kind.” 

“But I didn’t...”  Slowly, it dawns on the more magic-savvy members of the party that Federico’s reply to his aunt’s _sending_ was something like, _ Auntie!  Where are you?  What’s going on?  Is that you?  Hello?  Hello??  Is anyone there?  Hello?  Auntie??  She was just talking to me... didn’t you,_ but it’s too late to make any use of it now. 

“I’ll have to go home,” Federico declares.  “Auntie Flapjacks asked me to- and she asked after Mama.”  He sniffs, a tear coming to his eye.  “I miss my Mama,” he whimpers.*

While they talk, it soon comes out that Naomi’s “jerren blood” is _all_ of her blood.  She is in fact a full-blooded jerren.  _No wonder she’s such a bitch,_ thinks Nara acidly, as the party mulls the revelation.  By this time it is early afternoon.  Our party breaks from their mission- they are done searching, and next comes delving into the sea after whatever they saw just off the islet- for tea time, snacking on bacon and crackers.  Over tea, they discuss the implications of heading back towards Federico’s home area.  

“The Peachtrees,” the kobold whimpers.  “They don’t like us.  And we’re wanted.”

“You are?” Dandylion asks.

“Yeah, well at least Chief Jawbreaker and I are.”

“What for?” asks Nara.

“We let a bunch of crazy people out of an insane asylum.**  But that place was terrible!  They did horrible things to people in there- they cut open their heads and poured liquids on their brains and stuff!”  Federico shudders. 

“Bad place,” Jawbreaker confirms.  

“I hope Stupid is okay,” Lanzor says grumpily.

“What about the Peachtrees?” asks Nara.  

Jawbreaker groans.  “Jawbreaker didn’t mean to hurt Heather.”

“Yeah, Ed didn’t mean to shoot out Benjy Peachtree’s eye, either,” Federico responds.

“So you might say that they have a couple of reasons not to like you,” Nara muses.

“Screw the Peachtrees,” Rock grumbles.  “Whoever they are.” 

“Well, I’m full,” announces Tron.  “Time to get in the water.”

“No!” snaps Ari.  “Tron, you must know better- you must _wait thirty minutes_ before swimming after you eat.”

The party continues to chat for half and hour; then they enter the water.  All of them are soon under the influence of a _water breathing_ spell, and they submerge themselves in the turbulent water.  As they enter the water, Tron moans, “I need some _crahk._”

Then they are below the surface, breathing the ocean itself.  Ari _wild shapes_ into a shark and begins swimming ahead of the party.  Almost immediately he spots a large bed of kelp, and above it- some kind of bundle or growth of kelp, bunched into a globby shape.  It moves with purpose and begins to glide through the water towards the party.  

Ari reverses course, heading back towards the party.  They realize that he must have seen _something_, but as a shark, he cannot speak to them.  “What is it?” wonders Rock, and then a strand of kelp wraps around him, instantly tightening and pulling the hapless fellow to it.  He yelps, and the party bursts into action.  Beau blasts a volley of _magic missiles_ at it that pepper it with force.  But the thing is unrelenting; it soon grapples Jawbreaker as well, entangling him in its fronds.

Our heroes, meanwhile, seem to be tripping all over themselves.  A collection of misses and missteps keeps them from doing much of anything; they cololectively miss or fail to effect it with anything at all, except for a single _magic missile_ from Federico.  

Ari returns to his normal form and begins casting _summon nature’s ally VI_.  It takes a few precious moments- during which Naomi successfully hits the thing with a _mind thrust_- but when the spell finally goes off, a small school of sharks appears!  They tear into the kelp creature, tearing it apart in a few short moments.  

“Wow,” says Tron.  

Our heroes regroup.  “Well, we know what was in water,” Jawbreaker notes as Nara and Ari dispense a little healing.

“But still not what’s in the center,” Beau points out.  

Jawbreaker nods.  “We will.  Poison first.  Try to kill it or draw it out.”

“It certainly can’t hurt to try,” admits Queffe.

“Then let’s go back to the ship,” Erasmuz suggests.  “We can see if we have the necessary stuff for Bacon Grease to cook up something nasty and get to work.”

“And if he doesn’t have what he needs, Lox Pentor is only 12 miles away,” points out Queffe.  “We could be there before night falls by several hours!”

***

_*4:30 p.m., Lox Pentor*_

Our heroes disembark.  They have hours of daylight left as they stroll into Lox Pentor, thinking about dinner at Lambs.  Little do they realize that one of them will be dead before the night is out.

_*Next Time:*_ One of our heroes dies!!  Who??  How??  Find out- next time!

*Mama Flapjacks is a former pc, a matronly halfling cleric mother-figure to most of hte party in the earlier days of the halfling party.  She died adventuring with the party. 

**Federico is, of course, referring to the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment and the party’s adventure with it, which led to their trial and conviction.  (That marked hippijedi’s first game with our group; he is the player of Nara and Beau (as her cohort, these days) in the halfling party, and Gerontius in the epic game.


----------



## the Jester

It’s during dinner that the rumors reach our heroes: rumors of a nearby halfling community under threat.  Yes, it is a diversion; but our heroes have been on the job at sea for quite some time, and it has been a while since they have come upon a group of their own kind in need.  Now that it has happened... especially since (according to said rumors) the community is only a few miles outside of Lox Pentor... our heroes decide to see what they can do to help.  They bring a pair of sailors from _the Promised Land_ with them for additional muscle, though they don’t exactly spell out the nature of the threat.

_Especially_ as the alleged threat comes from giants.

“Just because they’re bigger than us, they think they can push us around,” grumbles Queffe.

“We protect halflings,” grunts Chief Jawbreaker.

“Giants are stupid, anyway,” Ari points out in Halfling.  

“Maybe they’ll have another retarded child,” Nara says wryly.*

So it is that our heroes set out for the halfling community.  The walk goes quickly; a well-packed trail leads them easily to their goal, and when they find the place, the local halflings quickly warn them off.  “Giants!” they cry.  “We can’t fight them!  They’re too _big!_”

“We’re bigger than we look,” Tron reassures them.  “Do you guys have any rocks?  You know, white rocks?  _Crahk?_  Come on, don’t be holding out on me!”

The halflings don’t have any _crahk_ (at least, that they will admit to), but they do have some information.  The giants- a pair of brothers- makes weekly trips to the halfling thorp, where they demand tribute- and by a stroke of luck, they are due sometime tonight.  A quick survey of the territory leads our heroes to a small grove of trees, where they set up an ambush.  Night has fallen, so a lantern hung from one of the branches gives our heroes a little light with which to see- but, unfortunately, also illuminates their position.  The sailors are very nervous; by now, the cat is out of the bag.  Giants!  

When the giants arrive for their weekly extortion run, our heroes will spring their trap and slay them!  Or at least that is the plan.  

These giants are not as stupid as our heroes had hoped, however.  From a distance they spy the party’s lantern, and after watching for a few minutes they come to the obvious conclusion: _it’s a trap!_  So, instead of marching in and springing it, the giants decide to spring it at a distance, with boulders.  A whistling sound, followed by a thunderous crack, announces that they have begun their assault; the tree the lantern is on shudders and cracks as a large rock smashes into it.  

“They’re here!” shouts Queffe, loading her crossbow. 

In the distance, the party can see dark silhouettes, much taller than themselves, outlined against the night sky.  A great booming laugh comes from the two silhouettes, and then a volley of _magic missiles_ shoots out into one of them.  Beau grimly says, “First blood!”

Tron, meanwhile, concentrates for just a second and his _mind blade_ flares into existence.  Hollering, “Where’s my _crahk??_”, he begins moving forward.

“Tron, you idiot!” calls Nara.  “Hang back for a minute!”  _Divine vigor_ flows through her, filling her with sacred power, but Tron isn’t listening.**  Queffe’s crossbow sings as bolts shoot out, and Nara and Beau fire a combination of _searing light_ and _scorching ray_ at the giants.  In the light of the combined rays, our heroes get a good look at the giants: coal-black skin, dirty red hair... and a laughing disregard for the _scorching ray!_

“They must be fire giants!” calls Nara.  “Watch out, fire won’t hurt them!”

Meanwhile, Jawbreaker, being somewhat wiser than Tron, sneaks forward, trying to stay out of sight until he is close enough to charge.  He winces as he sees Tron attempt to duel the two giants one-on-two... _Stupid _crahkhead, he thinks, shaking his head.

Ari attempts to use a powerful spell that he learned a while back and has yet to succeed with: _gutroot._  The giant he targets gulps as it feels something within its stomach rumble, but it throws off the effect.  “Damn it!” Ari swears.  “That has to work sometime!”  Shaking his head, he begins the prayers that will allow him to _call lightning._

The two sailors in the battle react with significantly less valor than our heroes had hoped, but hey, they’re low-level npcs.  What do you expect?  One of them flees in terror as more boulders smash into the grove of trees; the other hunkers down behind cover, shouting, “Get them!”  Queffe winks at the shoulders as she reloads, moves forward, and keeps firing. 

“Don’t worry, I got them!” Tron calls, swinging his _mind blade_ into the leg of the giant closest to him.  The giant roars in anger as blood begins to flow down his leg; then, with a pair of powerful blows, he crushes Tron to jelly.

“Tron!” cries Ari, directing a bolt of electricity at his killer.  “Oh no!”  At the same time, Nara fires another _searing light,_ which catches the same giant in the face.  With a booming shout of pain, the first of the giants falls.

And then, with a mighty battle cry (“HAAAAAAMMM!!!!”), Jawbreaker rushes the remaining giant, bringing his axe around in a swift, deadly blow- a blow that completely misses.  The giant uses a backhand blow to knock Jawbreaker back a pace, but then, suddenly, Queffe and Nara are on either side of it as well.  Lightning blasts down, disorienting it; and Jawbreaker’s axe sings as he tries again, a little more successfully this time.  The giant, confused by these gnats (they never stung back before!) gives his fallen brother a crestfallen look; and then it swings its massive sword down at the ground, trying to cut Jawbreaker in two!  The Chief leaps back, but the sword still catches his right foot, hacking off all of his toes as well as the front of his boot!  Growling like a bear, Jawbreaker swings his axe in the opposite arc, straight up- and it sinks into the giant’s crotch, slicing up, up into his belly....

With a gasp, the giant falls back dead.

Gasping, our heroes take stock.  Nara and Ari rush to tend the wounded, but it is too late to do anything about Tron: he is dead.  In fact, he is _paste._ 

“Now what?” pants Queffe.  

“Rest?” suggests Ari.  He gestures at the halfling thorp.  The villagers are staring at our heroes in wonder.

“Rest,” nods the Chief.  He wipes his axe blade clean on a giant tunic.  “But first, loot.”


_*Next Time:*_ Who will be Tron’s replacement?  How will the vile cooking that Bacon Grease is doing work out?  Our heroes return to the sunken temple of the jerren!


*She is, of course, referring to the time that our heroes found a retarded stone giant lost in the Underdark and helped him find his way home.

**Say it with me, folks: _Wisdom of 1._


----------



## the Jester

_*9/4/372 O.L.G., 11 a.m., backtracking the giants*_

“We need more muscle,” states Queffe.  Chief Jawbreaker snorts.  “Seriously,” Queffe continues.  “We just lost Tron, who may have been an idiot-”

“Stupid _crahk_head,” Jawbreaker snorts.

“-but he was _our_ idiot, and he was one of our front line fighters!”

“He _was_ good in a fight,” Ari admits.

“Well, _I’m_ not taking the front line,” Federico giggles.*

Beau snorts.  “Me neither.”

Jawbreaker glances around and harrumphs.  There really isn’t anyone who can step up into Tron’s shoes.  Nara will get in there, but she needs tme to cast spells and prepare (Jawbreaker’s nose wrinkles in disdain).  No one in the group (other than the chief himself) is as effective as Tron was in a fight.

So the party finds a new soulknife.

The giants’ trail leads to another small community that they had been terrorizing, and upon the news of the giants’ defeat, a celebration breaks out.  The townsfolk are very grateful for their liberation, and one of the men of the town offers to accompany the party in thanks until he has killed forty creatures for them.  Amused, our heroes interrogate him for a few moments about his skills and abilities.  “What weapons do you use, or do you cast spells?” asks Ari.

The man, who has introduced himself as Rush, sneers.  “I need no weapon.”  And from his hand, a _mind blade_ projects!

Our heroes exchange glances.  Serendipity.  

***

_*4 p.m., Lox Pentor*_

As the party climbs the gangplank back onto their ship, Rush asks, “So what are we doing?  Where are we going?  Is there money to be made?”

Nara explains.  “We’re seeking the halfling promised land.  We know where it is- it’s on Natchoor Island, off the east coast of Strogass- but we don’t know how to get into it yet.  We know that ‘cornbread opens the way’, but we aren’t sure what it means.  Right now, we’re going to a sunken temple of a halfling subrace-” (she does not elaborate on the evil jerren) “-where we have reason to believe there may be a clue about the cornbread.  Ari detected some kind of weird powerful creature underwater and so we’re going to try to poison it- our cook, Bacon Grease, is going to take a few days to whip up some especially foul concoction.”

Rush stares at her for a moment.  Finally, with a shake of his head, he says, “You are very strange people.”

With a grin, Nara hurries off to confer with Captain Tarth.  Soon the ship is under way, heading back to the small cluster of islets beneath which they believe the jerren ruins to be.  Standing at the rail, Ari squints out to see; is that- a figure, bobbing far behind them?  The figure of Dogtooth?  Strangely reassured, Ari goes below decks to rest.**

Meanwhile, Bacon Grease, the ship’s cook, is far from resting.  Slowly, he combines rotten fish, various toxins purchased in the city of Lox Pentor, salt and lethal herbs, cooking them together into a hideous vat of death.  Then he starts adding unsavory ingredients, of which the vomit of those seamen catching a whiff of his horrific brew is perhaps the mildest.  He and Naomi engage in repulsive lovemaking amongst the stank; it requires his iron constitution and her general disgustingness to overcome the foul reek pouring from the kitchen.  For three days he adds more (and fouler) ingredients to the mix (including some scrapings from his sessions with Naomi), until finally he announces that the repugnant process is complete.

“Thank god,” mutters Captain Tarth.

The halflings can only agree.  The stink is clinging to the entire ship, now, and it is the kind of stink that a discerning nose finds... unappealing.  Hideous, even.  Yet it is necessary.  Ugh, that’s _awful_.

Everyone is very happy to see the foul mixture dumped into the water in the center of the four islets, above the well of deep water.  The stench decreases immediately and considerably, but unfortunately the stink still clings to the ship.

“You know,” Queffe says, “I hope that this works.  I would hate to have to go in there now, with that mess in the water.”

Nara looks stricken.  Jawbreaker shrugs.  “We wait now,” he declares laconically.  “If nothing comes up, we go in after a while.  If something floats to surface, we go in after a while and loot.  Either way, we wait a while first, then go in.”  He shrugs.  “No difference.”

Ari says unhappily, “Those poor fish.”

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes wait a while, then go in the water!


*Our resident sorcerer/bard/jester with tons of 1st-level spells has a Str of 2, and that’s after he put his 8th level ability increase there!

**Dogtooth was a salty sailor that our heroes hung with briefly while they were shipwrecked.  He made a huge impression on the group, even though he died somewhere in the session he was introduced or the one after, and he’s become something of a standing joke in the group.  “+1 for Dogtooth!” is a common mantra when someone misses an attack or check by one, and sightings like that detailed above happen periodically in the halfling party.


----------



## Alcar

I shall miss Tron, I so enjoyed playing a character with a 1 wisdom and may voluntarily do it again. Rush is his total opposite, namely he's wise, and an ***hole, if Tron wasn't a nice guy he probably would have tried to kill the party and sell there loot for crahk money( then getting ripped off in the process). Se la vi.


----------



## the Jester

*The Sunken Temple of the Jerren!*

_*9/7/372 O.L.G., 11 a.m., on the deck of *_*the Promised Land*

Expectantly the party patches the surface of the water.  The bubbling mass of nasty that Bacon Grease, the ship’s cook, produced for them slowly diffuses out and down into the water, into the dark well that they can see but are understandably reluctant to swim down into. 

A few minutes pass, then a few minutes more.

“I’m bored,”  Beau announces.

“Patience, buddy,” Erasmuz chuckles with a smile.  “We have to give the stuff time to work.”

“Besides, our choices are to either go into the water or give up- and I don’t want to go swim into _that,_” Nara points out.

***

_*12:30 p.m. *_

“I’m bored,” Queffe says.  

Beau grins triumphantly.  “See?”

“Patience, guys,” Nara sighs.  “Even if we aren’t having any luck with this ploy” –Bacon Grease looks crestfallen- “we still need to make sure we aren’t swimming into the middle of that stuff.”

“It’s pretty spread out by now,” reasons Ari, “it’s been over an hour.”

“”Patience,” Nara repeats.

***

_*2 p.m.*_

“I am bored,” Rush drawls.  “Let us go kill something.”

Jawbreaker nods.  “Yes.  It time.”

“All right, you’re the chief,” answers Ari.  He and Nara begin casting _water breathing_, spreading their spells so that everyone has several hours of duration on them.  The last thing that they want is to run out of water breathing in the middle of being underwater, so Nara, Ari and Erasmuz all have at least one more _water breathing_ spell in reserve.  After a few moments, our heroes jump off of _the Promised Land’s_ deck and into the water.  

The water is chilly, but not cold enough to be dangerous.  Beneath the choppy surface, our heroes find that they can swim without being buffeted by the waves, and they can see the dark area beneath them that seems to be some kind of well.  As they descend, swimming almost straight down, they pass a few dead fish floating in the water, the result of their poisonous brew.  But there is no sign of any threatening creature dead.  Alas.  

The well gapes before our heroes.  It is like the dark maw of a gigantic shark waiting to devour them.  The shaft of the well sinks deep into solid rock, straight down for hundreds of feet.  The only light is left far behind them, far above them.  After a few moments, someone casts _light_, and those of our heroes who are not from the Underdark (and thus accustomed to abosolute blackness) breathe sighs of relief.  As they finally reach the bottom and swim down into the chamber that they find there, they eagerly spread out to take up a little more space.  

“Hmm,” bubbles Erasmuz.

The chamber is an irregular cave, about 40’ across.  It has four passages leading out of it.  Though irregular, they do not seem completely natural.  The walls are bare, and there is no sign of life.  The waters around the group are still and silent.

“Well, what do you guys think?” asks Ari.  “Which way do we go?”   

“Left,” replies Nara automatically.

“But which way is left?” Erasmuz asks ominously.  Indeed, with no way to get their bearings, there is no way to be sure; and as they entered from above, they all came in with their lefts in different directions.  For a moment, our heroes are befuddled; then-

“This way,” Jawbreaker snorts, and the party follows him out one of the passages.  It curves to the right as they swim down it, but Jawbreaker ignores this, despite the group’s almost superstitious preference for going left.  After about 30’, the passage opens into a long, irregular chamber about 30’ long and 20’ wide.  Two rows of colums run down the chamber, and the far end of the area holds a fish-like altar of terrifying aspect, mouth upright as if to devour.  

“Hmm,” Erasmuz says darkly.  “I don’t like the looks of that.”

The party swims towards it to investigate- but as they get about halfway, four of the columns suddenly animate, changing into alabaster statues of sword-wielding warrior women!  They begin to move forward, but Rush thrusts forward with his _mind blade_ and stabs one of them!  He grunts in suprise at how little damage his blow does, and then his target- as well as a second of the strange stone women- moves in to attack him back.  The other two rush Jawbreaker.

The statue creatures prove difficult to hit and difficult to damage, but Beau soon discovers that it is susceptible to _magic missile._  Rush demonstrates an impressive level of skill by unleashing a whirlwind attack, but he still fails to drop even a single enemy!  Jawbreaker curses as he finally lands a blow but his weapon twists in his hands at the last moment, and he does no damage.  

For their part, the statues seem unable to do much more to our heroes than our heroes are doing to them.  Rush takes a cut across the shoulder, and Jawbreaker a nick along the leg, but on the whole, each side seems to be defeating the other’s attacks with solid defense.

Finally Rush breaks the stalemate, smashing down one of the column-women he is fighting.  He focuses on the other, and in a few more seconds he has finished it off.  One of Jawbreaker’s foes has landed a solid blow on the chief at last, but he too has finally lain a good one on the statue.  Nara slams her morningstar into one again and again, but to no avail- she cannot penetrate the creature’s ability to shrug off damage!

Queffe manages to get a solid blow in, dealing significant damage to one of the statues, and Jawbreaker lands another blow; that one falls.  Then Rush drops his last opponent and steps in to help the others.  But it is Beau that ends the fight, blasting the last statue with a volley of _magic missiles_ that finishes it off in a shower of breaking stone.

“Wow!” gasps Nara.  “I couldn’t even hurt those things!”

“No kidding,” grumbles Jawbreaker sourly.  “Jawbreaker have poor form today.”

“That’s two kills,” Rush announces.  “I will kill thirty-eight more things for you.”

Nara and Erasmuz, meanwhile, have both swam over to the strange fish-altar thing.  It is disturbing and foul-looking.  The thing’s maw is open and suggests both voraciousness and carnivorousness.  The two halflings exchange a glance, and it is obvious that neither of them know anything about it.  

Then Federico come over.  “Oh wow,” he squeaks in terror, shivering and tucking his little kobold tail between his legs, “that’s Zaamel!” 

“Who?” asks Erasmuz.

“Zaamel, the god of the dark depths, the god of devouring,” the kobold replies. 

“Sounds friendly,” Nara says ironically.  

“Should we destroy it?” wonders Rush.

“Probably,” Erasmuz nods.

“It might be important to my people,” Naomi demurs.

“Do you know anything about it?” asks Nara, but the corpulent Naomi only shrugs.

“Even so, it seems unwise to go into the dark depths and start destroying altars to the god of the dark depths,” Ari points out.

“Hey, you guys,” says Beau, “look at this!”  They cluster around, and he shows them a hinge in the fish’s gaping jaw.

“I bet that it’s set up to receive offerings somehow!” exclaims Ari.  He swims up and drops a silver piece into the fish’s mouth.  Sure enough, the jaw closes.  A moment later it re-opens, and the silver piece is gone.

Our heroes poke at the altar for a while, but they find nothing else of interest, and nobody else wants to put anything more interesting (such as their head) into the altar, so eventually they move on.  There are no other exits from this chamber, nor does a search turn up any secret ways, so they return to the first room and Jawbreaker leads them donw another passage.  It soon splits, and our heroes naturally take the left passage.  

An instant later, as the front ranks of the party round the bend, a spinning coral star smashes into Nara.  The prophetess is knocked senseless, stunned.

“Oh crap,” croaks Naomi.  She swims backwards and cries out a warning.  Rush immediately swims forward and around the corner to meet the threat head on.  

A huge creature made out of coral, shaped like a four-legged spider, is in the chamber.  And as Rush moves to engage it, it slams him with _four_ blows, tearing at his chest, head and legs.  He roars and slashes it back, then tumbles away.  

“Watch out, it’s dangerous!” he cries.

The battle is joined.

_*Next Time:*_ Against the coral golem!


----------



## the Jester

The singing of a kobold... who would have ever thought that it would inspire the confidence of halflings?  

And yet, as Federico sings and japes, his voice reverberating through the watery passages around our heroes, his voice lifts their spirits.  Even Rush, who has hitherto been rather suspicious and unfriendly to the two kobolds, finds himself grinning.  The little guy is _funny_- and more than that, inspiring. 

“Fall back!” shouts Yip, as the coral monster takes a swipe at Rush, who allows the massive blow to deflect off of his _mind blade_ as he withdraws.  The others are erecting their defenses and moving back as well- Erasmuz casts _shield of faithlessness_ and erects a _force screen,_ while Naomi initiates _energy retort_ as she backs off.  Ari swims madly away after his _faerie fire_ fails to have any effect whatsoever; once he reaches a relatively safe spot, he casts _longstrider_ and prepares to return to the fray with significantly improved mobility.  Rock, growling, takes up a defensive stance, but the coral golem shuffles forward and tears at him with a jagged coral limb.  

”Back up, Naomi!” cries Erasmuz.  He casts a _spiritual weapon,_ which strikes the beast, and Federico pulls out his wand and discharges a _magic missile_ into the monster.  It seems pitiful, but it’s the best he can do at the moment.

Naomi, still threatened by the monster, lumbers backwards.  As she does, the coral golem slams her with an attack of opportunity- triggering her _energy retort,_ which blasts the beast with a bolt of lightning.  It shrugs the blast off with no apparent harm.

Rush quaffs a pair of healing potions, then breathes steadily, attaining psionic focus.  He watches the coral beast advance inexorably towards the party, smashing Rock across the head and leaving him stunned.  Beau grits his teeth as he fires a _ray of enfeeblement_ into the coral golem, but he can’t tell whether the thing is affected at all.  Erasmuz’ _spiritual weapon_ keeps smacking at the beast, and Federico’s wand fires off more _magic missiles._  Chunks of coral are coming off- the creature is obviously suffering from the punishment the party is dealing out- but it isn’t down yet.  

But Yip and Rush move in, craftily tumbling to avoid any unnecessary damage.  One of them on either side of the golem, they hammer it with fists and _mind blade_- and finally, praying to Galador that staying close enough to unleash a flurry of blows will not prove to be a lethal mistake- Brother Yip finishes it off!!  

Our heroes breathe a collective sigh of relief.  “I’m glad that’s over,” gasps Rock, bleeding profusely.  Ari and Nara immediately set to work healing the wounded- and almost everyone is at least a little wounded.  

After a few moments of healing and rest, the party prepares to continue their explorations.  The coral golem’s chamber proves to be empty of interesting features, and it has no exits, so our heroes backtrack to the Y-shaped branch at which a left turn led to the coral golem room.  The other branch leads them to a portcullis, complete with underwater windlass.  Behind it are the skeletons of at least twenty sharks, lying immobile on the ground.  There are no other exits visible from without; our heroes snicker at the thought of lifting the portcullis and leave it behind.  “If we can’t find anywhere else to go or anything else to explore, we can always come back here,” says Ari.  “But for now, I am not really interested in fighting twenty shark skeletons.”

“Or whatever killed twenty sharks,” adds Federico, shivering with fear.  His tail is tucked between his legs. 

The group turns around, returning to the chamber via which they entered the sunken temple.  From there they take another of the exits, this once leading to a chamber that is decorated with- nay, dominated by- paintings of bulbous fish eyes.  The walls seem to bulge with them, giving all of our heroes the unsettling feeling that they are being watched.  “These folk were creepy,” mutters Rock.  Again, a lack of exits leads the party back to the main room and out another of the passages that lead from it.  This one takes them to a chamber full of jumbled, mostly-crushed skeletons and weapons, many of which are broken.  Again, there are no exits. 

Ari crouches down, examining the bones.  “These look like halfling bodies,” he tells the others grimly.

“They must be some of the jerren,” Naomi says eagerly.  “If only we could talk to them!”

Nara smiles.  “Who says we can’t?”

The power of Coila flows through the prophetess as she intones solemn prayers to her goddess.  Soon, she is murmuring to a skull that has a significant amount of its neck (and vocal cords) repaired via _make whole._  When she is done, she shudders.  “It seems,” she informs her friends, “that the jerren were fond of dealing with foul powers from other planes, and of binding demons and such.”  She licks her lips nervously.  “They... they collected true names.”

“Oh?” asks Ari.  “Any of them especially interesting?” 

“You might say that,” Nara replies.  “Have you ever heard of Orcus?”

Silence descends on the group for a moment.  Finally, Federico whimpers, “...yeah...”

“Is Orcus what killed these guys?” Ari gestures.

“No, I asked about that too.  They were killed by something I’ve never heard of- something called the ‘scyllan’.”

“Uh oh,” Federico whimpers some more, almost starting to cry. 

“What is this ‘scyllan’?” asks Beau.

“It- it’s a weird, powerful monster, some kind of demon or devil or something... I always thought it was just a legend!” Federico exclaims.  “I never believed it was actually real...”

“But,” sighs Naomi, “what is it?”

“A terrible thing, brought here from another plane,” the kobold bard grimaces.  “Marooned, stranded, unable to get home... the scyllan is a terrible, terrible monster that eats little kobolds and halflings for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, lunch-”

“I think we get the idea,” Ari nods. 

“At least it eats a decent number of meals every day,” reasons Naomi.  “It can’t be all bad.”

“Did you miss the part where its meals were halflings?” snorts Rock. 

“Well, no, but I mean, come on, we all gotta eat,” the obese Naomi shoots back. 

“Well, buddies,” Erasmuz says, “maybe if we find it we can turn the tables on it.  

“Maybe WE can eat IT!”

_*Next Time:*_ Who will eat whom??  Our heroes encounter- the SCYLLAN!!


----------



## Brain

I got a talented artist here on EN World (Restill Habb) to do a rendition of Erasmuz.

link


----------



## omrob

*Oh yeah*

Thats frikkin awesome...

so who all is up for doing a guerilla style takeover of the J's story hour posting? 

since hes a lagger! I know his wrist has got to be better - but do we get any story hour love? 

RAN


----------



## the Jester

omrob said:
			
		

> Thats frikkin awesome...
> 
> so who all is up for doing a guerilla style takeover of the J's story hour posting?
> 
> since hes a lagger! I know his wrist has got to be better - but do we get any story hour love?
> 
> RAN




Wrist is eehhh, gettin' there.

I am currently anticipating at least a short update in each thread within the next couple of weeks.


----------



## the Jester

Working on the next update...

Just so everyone can visualize, the creature on the cover of Stormwrack is the Scyllan.


----------



## the Jester

The party’s meeting with the scyllan comes much sooner than our heroes would have anticipated. As they stand there underwater, talking, it comes. It, and its demonic minions- fish-like demon creatures with foul, barbed tails. Three of them. Deadly creatures from the watery oceans of the Abyss, the demons dart forward while, behind them, the deadly thing that is the Scyllan swims forward. From the black waters behind it, it moves smoothly, quickly towards our diminuative heroes. Its upper body is a mass of lashing tentacles, surrounding a pair of fearsome-looking claws. Its head is like a cross between that of a fish and some kind of bone-headed aquatic ram. Vicious teeth like those of a barracuda gnash in its green, knurled mouth.

Fear pours out of the attackers, tainting the water like oil from a squid. Federico shrieks in fear and swims back away from the terrible monsters charging the group, and Rock falls back as well. Erasmuz erects a protective _force screen,_ while Nara invokes _divine power._

Only Naomi lashes out immediately, without thought for her own safety or defense. She glares at the Scyllan, her mind raging. _You destroyed my people here!_ the fat halfling cries in her mind. _Now we’ll destroy _you!

There is a ripple of mental force as Naomi unleashes a powerfully-augmented _mind thrust,_ and the Scyllan reels for a moment as the psionic attack blasts its mind. Then it hisses; it motions its minions forward and waits for the right moment. The demons that serve the Scyllan rush in and tear at Brother Yip, slashing their jagged tails at him and attempting to rend him limb from limb! The kobold monk parries and twists, avoiding about half of the blows aimed at him. The other half rip into his scaly flesh, leaving the water around him swirling with clouds of red-black blood. 

“No!” cries Naomi, and _recalls agony_ on the first of the demons. It shudders in remembered pain, then snarls; but Rush steps forward, his _mind blade_ already active, and unleashes a whirlwind attack, disemboweling one of the creatures entirely. He wounds both of the other demons, and Nara steps in and takes one of them down in a series of morning star blows.

The Scyllan gnashes its teeth again and lunges forward, reaching for Rush, and as he does so, Yip lands a solid kick in the face, shattering teeth and eliciting a roar of pain. Still, the creature grabs Rush, wrapping a tentacle around its victim. Rush growls and struggles, but it is quite strong. Yip, badly wounded from the demons, leaps away back to Federico, who is cowering in the back, seeking help. Meanwhile, spells seem to ping off of the Scyllan ineffectively.

Namoi _suggests_ to the minion demon that it attack the Scyllan; it moves in, but misses. The Scyllan, meanwhile, tosses Rush aside and smashes at Nara with multiple tentacles and both of its claws. It tears into her, dealing incredible wounds to her. She gasps and screams as it cracks her ribs, claws open her belly and thighs and smashes at her head.* Gritting her teeth to get past the pain, she full attacks it back, _hasting_ herself with her boots, and hits it several times- to no avail! Her blows glance off of it uselessly!

Beau moves in to where he can get a clear shot, taking a tentacle blow on the way, and fires a _ray of enfeeblement_ at the Scyllan. It hits the strange creature, and the monster gives a snarl of anger as its strength flees its limbs. Rush steps in again, slamming his _mind blade_ into the Scyllan and using all of his psychic powers to enhance it. Blow after blow falls, and he crushes one of its tentacles, but it sistill going! It gives blow for blow back to Rush, knocking the soulknife unconscious and drifting in the water. The Scyllan roars at its minion, and the demon stops for a moment, then whirls to attack Beau, clearly snapped free of the _suggestion_. It swims past Beau- but he stabs it in the vitals as it does so, running it through and slaying it!

Then a large water elemental appears, summoned by Ari, and it swims in to attack the monster. The two begin contending, while our heroes try to regroup and heal a little. Their plan is cut short, unfortunately, when the Scyllan sweeps Naomi up in a tentacle and begins to constrict her.

More _mind blasts, spiritual weapons_ and other effects shoot out, but without much result. The Scyllan seems able to resist almost anything our heroes throw at it!

It becomes clear that steel and muscle are our heroes’ only hope. Grimly, they press their attack, with Yip dancing in and out, Rock pushing back into the fight, and Beau striving to flank. The Scyllan gives out a cruel laugh, smacking Beau, Nara and Rock all at once.

Yip groans as he watches his friends suffer new wounds. “Foul beast!” he cries, and springs forward, striking the beast in its body. Then, as Erasmuz casts _divine power_, Beau moves into position and stabs it in the kidney area. The Scyllan roars, and a great cloud of blood pours out of its mouth into the surrounding water.

It collapses.

“Thank the gods!” exclaims Yip with relief.

“Hardly,” Erasmuz snarks. “We saved _ourselves._ We don’t need any gods.”

“Well, hey,” Naomi coughs, herself in very bad shape after her long period of being constricted, “since it’s dead, we can search the rest of these caves.”

“Corn bread,” says Erasmuz emphatically.

_*Next Time:*_ What will our heroes find down here? Is there any corn bread that will survive underwater? Find out- next time!


*Nara took a total of 73 points of damage from this series of attacks!


----------



## the Jester

Searching the immediate surrounding areas of the sunken temple of the jerren, our heroes are disappointed to find no cornbread. _Of course not,_ Erasmuz laughs inwardly. _The only reason the buffoon who sold us the map knew to cry ‘cornbread’ was because _I_ told him to._

There are more strange carvings of the great devouring fish-thing, which Nara identifies as Zaamel, a god of the dark depths, god of devouring. “I can kind of relate to that!” Naomi burbles. She is grotesque, growing ever fatter and more disgusting.* 

On the wall of the chamber the Scyllan emerged from, an ancient halfling-sized corpse is impaled by his own harpoon. The figure wears full plate, a belt and a cloak, all of which radiate magic when our heroes check.

The party retreats to their ship, _the Promised Land,_ before finishing their explorations of the place. They will rest and regain their spells first. Fighting the Scyllan took a lot out of them.

***

Morning. The sky grows pink, then orange. Another _water breathing_ spell washes over everyone, and the party dives into the water again. Ari is a shark.

And there are other sharks in the water, too. 

As the party swims down, two 20’ long sharks that are a dappled blue-grey in color swim in and charge at Erasmuz and Beau. There is a flurry of blood in the water; Erasmuz breaks free by casting _water walk_ on himself, but Beau is seized in a shark’s mouth! He screams in agony as the terrible predator’s sharp, dagger-like teeth sink deep into his thighs. He struggles, but the other shark swims in and bites down on his upper body- ripping deep into his chest. 

Beau’s screams (from inside the second dire shark’s mouth) are horrifying. Ari starts summoning a water elemental while the others move in on the sharks, but before our heroes can reach them, they tear Beau in two! A massive cloud of blood swirls between the two sharks in the water.

“NOOOOO!” cries Nara. 

The water elemental appears, and it rushes forward to engage the sharks, but they are content; they have had a good snack. They withdraw, trailing bits of Beau’s viscera behind them.

“Beau,” whispers Nara. “Oh, no...”

***

There is some treasure; coins, trade bars, a rod and a pearl. The heroes take it. There is the altar that eats a silver piece; there are the graven images. 

Back to the ship. Erasmuz persuades Captain Tarth to allow his skeleton on board after she judges his level of control over it, and the ur-priest puts it in the hold. Then back to Lox Pentor. They reach the port city a little after dark, move into the city and get a room. After a flurry of _identify_ spells, our heroes divide up some of their recent acquisitions. Erasmuz gets the _harpoon +4_, Naomi gets the _belt of giant strength +4_, Ari gets the _brain lock pearl_, Nara gets the _full plate +3_, Rush gets the _rod of ruin_ (which penalizes all saving throws within 60’ of it by -4), and Brother Yip is given the _cloak of assistance_ (which gives all allies within 10’ of the wearer a +2 resistance bonus on saves and a +1 deflection bonus to AC, and allows the wearer to give an ally a +4 bonus, instead of the normal +2 bonus, when using the aid another action).

Rush immediately heads into town and sells the _rod of ruin_ for 9,000 gp. He buys some exotic salt water cod and shellfish from a vendor named Clyde, then heads back to Lambs to meet everyone else for dinner. Once again the dinner is fantastic. The party really wants to meet the chef, but the servers seem disinclined to let that happen. 

“We’ve got to know who this guy is,” insists Naomi. This is the best place to eat that our heroes have ever been. She sneaks off, concealing herself as best she can, and creeps into the kitchen, concealed as best she can be by the powers of her mind.

When she gets a glimpse at the chef, she is so shocked that she almost vomits.

He’s a dwarf.

Stunned, Naomi staggers back to her friends. Her mind is reeling. Dwarves are not exactly known for their cuisine. (In fact, the stuff they eat is what gives them their racial resistance to poison.)

At least the kitchen was staffed by halflings.

_But a dwarf!_

***

_*9/14/372 O.L.G., 9 a.m.*_

When our heroes awaken in the morning, they do so in delight, for a peach cobbler is in each of their rooms, one for each of them. Several of them dig in, only to find that they are poisoned. Once they begin to realize this, they hurry to wake the others and spread the alarm.

“Who- who tried to poison us?” wonders Nara. 

“That isn’t very nice,” Federico whines. 

“The Peachtrees?” suggests Jawbreaker.

“Or maybe the restaurant across the street,” Naomi muses. “Maybe they want to make sure that we can’t share their secret with anyone!”

“Well, how did the pies get here?” asks Ari. “Maybe the owner of _this_ place is complicit!”

“All I know,” says Rush, “is that we had better find out.”

_*Next Time:*_ Who tried to poison our heroes? What can they do about it? Find out!


*Naomi is on her way to a homebrewed prestige class called the Sarcophagic Slug. She started off by taking the Willing Deformity (obesity) feat (requiring Willing Deformity first).


----------



## the Jester

Poisoned by peach cobbler! What a foul start to the day- though the cobbler itself was quite delicious. But poison will turn the finest meal foul, and it does nothing for our heroes’ sense of safety that the poisoned cobblers were left for them _inside_ thier rooms. 

Who did it?

Our heroes have two immediate suspects. Across the street is the restaurant, Lamb’s, which is perhaps the finest eating establishment our little heroes have ever been to. It was just last night that Naomi managed to get a glimpse at the chef- who was, shockingly enough, a dwarf! Perhaps the restaurant wants to keep the party from telling anyone that their food is prepared by a dwarf?

Or, alternatively, it could be the Peachtree clan.

Long ago, on one of their first adventures, our heroes were employed to find out the secret of Benjy Peachtree’s jelly. The secret turned out to be a weird edible monster, and when the party confronted Peachtree, one of them- Airhead Ed- tried to steal his garen* and shot out one of his eyes. Later, during their adventures on the island of Dyshim, to the west of Strogass, our heroes met another Peachtree- Heather Peachtree. Jawbreaker tried to knock her unconscious and marry her, but there was a terrible accident, and Heather’s neck was broken, leaving her paralyzed from the neck down. The Peachtrees thus have little love for our heroes- and they _were_ peach cobblers.

All right, then; clearly it is time to investigate. Our heroes send Ari into Lamb’s to check and see if the cobbler there is similar to the poisoned ones that our heroes found earlier. He returns and reports that “it could have been, but it would have been different... I just can’t be sure.” 

“Let’s inquire as to where they get their pies,” suggests Nara. “After all, whoever made those cobblers had to get their peaches somewhere.”

The answer, it turns out, is from a group called the Mowlens. However, the restaurant simply buys the best peaches available at any given time. The party retreats back across the street to their inn, where they find one of the crewmen from their ship, _the Promised Land_, looking for them. “Someone shot Jarky!” the man exclaims. “With a crossbow, from below, on the pier!”

“Tell the captain to keep the ship safe,” Ari replies. “We’ll be along as soon as is possible, but first we have to track someone down.”

The party decides to go to the market. There are bound to be peaches for sale there; perhaps they will even get lucky and see something suspicious.

As it turns out, they do indeed get lucky: they spot a Peachtree, Frodo by name, selling peaches. Our heroes cluster around him and intimidate him thoroughly, but Frodo claims to know nothing. So our heroes give him a message to deliver to head of the local Peachtrees: _Meet us for dinner. Let’s talk about this before things get uglier._

“Feel free to come yourself,” Nara invites Frodo.

The young Peachtree scampers away, frightened by our heroes’ serious and threatening demeanor. Smirking, Naomi says, “I hope they bring some pie for us- some un-poisoned pie! I love pie, especially when it’s wrapped in bacon.”

“Mmmm, pie wrapped in bacon,” sighs Nara. 

Erasmuz starts to smile, but then he gives a strangled cry of surprise. 

Nearby, a tower thrusts into the sky. Suddenly a window mid-way up it shatters as a figure hurtles out of it, crashing to the street below. Another form flies out afterwards.

Our heroes gape.

The thing is moving very quickly, and it is hard to get a clear view of it. However, it seems to be roughly spherical in shape, covered in spikey metal plates, with long spikeed tentacles that flail about the crowded city streets around it. There are screams of agony as pedestrians are sent flying in different directions, some of them still alive and some crushed by the powerful blows. 

“What the hell is _that?_” Erasmuz gasps.

“I don’t know,” Naomi gurgles, “but it’s coming right for us!!”

_*Next Time:*_ The flailing dreadnaught!


*A zebra-like mount.


----------



## the Jester

The creature flies without wings. It is a ball of death, with multiple flailing barbed tentacles emerging from it. It flies low through the crowd, lashing out, crushing and tearing and killing. A chorus of screams rises up from the rabble; those who can, scramble away. 

The thing begins flying down the street, towards our heroes. The party begins shouting at people to clear the area and casting spells to prepare for battle. It is far enough away that Erasmuz casts _create food and water,_ and the party has a quick sausage snack. Keeping a wary eye on the closing monster, the party hurriedly consumes a few sausages, with Erasmuz being sure to apply liberal amounts of condiments to his own helping.

As the flailing dreadnought gets closer, Ari summons an air elemental to slow it down. Everyone reluctantly stops eating and moves into fighting formation. The creature ignores the elemental and charges the group, first flailing at Naomi’s corpulent bulk (and triggering an _energy retort_ which damages the creature in kind) and then suddenly giving off a blast of metal and spikes that wounds everyone rather severely!

But our heroes retort with a combination of spells and weapons. Ari charges with his spear; Erasmuz creates a _spiritual weapon_ that strikes at the dreadnought. It reels. Nara, meanwhile, hurls a _sound burst_ at the monster, damaging it further. Then, wincing from the creature’s spikey blast, she moves in with her morningstar. A moment of dueling and she lands a solid blow on its front section, and this is enough. The thing is already badly weakened; her morningstar’s blow is sufficient to disable it. It collapses to the ground, dying.

The party is pretty wounded, too; so they use what healing magic they have available to them to patch themselves up reasonably well before continuing along. Their next stop is the so-called “Small Quarter”, where the halflings and gnomes live together. They are to meet the Peachtree representative for dinner. Along the way, they spot the famed Slysneak Family Circus, and a fellow named Elmo Wheelwright sells them some high-grade halfling pipeweed. 

“Erasmuz! You scoundrel!” 

The party turns, and Erasmuz sees Alvin Slysneak, an old... acquaintance. They had met on the Plane of Shadow years ago; they had had similar goals but competing interestes, and each had set the other up. Since then, they had met up on several occasions, both as rivals and as allies. 

“Come, my boy,” Alvin says smoothly, putting his arm around Erasmuz and ushering him away. “I may have... an opportunity that you would enjoy.”

Watching Alvin and Erasmuz walk away, the others can only shrug. “We still have to meet the Peachtrees for dinner,” Nara reminds the others. They nod and move along.

_Ambush!_

Suddenly Rush clutches at his breast and gives a great cry. An arrow is stuck in him. 

“What... where...?” Federico whines. 

“There!” shouts Naomi, pointing a pudgy finger at one of the buildings nearby. “I saw someone on the roof!”

The party dashes to the building, most of them climbing to the roof while Jawbreaker goes in the back door. It appears to be an apartment building. There is no one on the top of the building; however, there is an open trap door leading within.

Our heroes dash within. “There!” Yip shouts, and the party bum rushes a helpless bystander by accident. While Nara moves downstairs, the others dash into another door nearby- but there are many doors to many apartments in this place. There is no assassin visible.

Down below, Jawbreaker is hassled by a few toughs, but he cuts off their belts so that their pants fall down around their ankles. Nara comes up about then and bops one of them on the head from behind with her morningstar, so he goes to sleep while his friend decides that there is no need to hassle our heroes after all. 

Naomi scans a few minds, but there is no sign of a would-be assassin. “He got away,” Jawbreaker says, disappointed. He plucks the crossbow bolt from Rush’s chest- the soulknife gasps in pain as he does so. Jawbreaker takes a long sniff of the bolt, catching the scent of the person who fired it.* “I will know him if we find him,” he announces. 

“Who do you think _that_ was?” wonders Nara. 

Federico suggests, “Maybe the Peachtrees. Maybe they’re trying to, you know, solve the problem in an easier fashion.”

“While we’re on the way to meet them for dinner? That doesn’t make sense.” Naomi shakes her head, setting her chins a-jiggle. 
“Well, it had to be someone,” Rock says. “That was an assassin.” He glares at his halfling friends. “You have interesting enemies.”

“Speaking of which,” mutters Federico. The restaurant comes into view.

Deep breaths. The party walks inside, and they are shown immediately to the back, where a well-set table surrounded by a hall dozen halflings awaits. One of them stands up. “Greetings,” he says. “My name is Madriel Peachtree. I’ll be speaking for my clan here tonight.”

The meal is huge.

_*Next Time:*_ Dinner with Madriel!

*Jawbreaker has the scent SQ, due to his bear warrior prestige class.


----------



## the Jester

Just realized that I mixed up some first names there. Finndo is actually a Hodiddly, who we meet soon, and the Peachtree rep is Madriel. My bad, sorry!


----------



## the Jester

Dinner. Sumptuous. More courses than even a halfling can finish. From pigeon pie to braised chicken hearts, from grilled trout in lemon sauce to wild mushroom salad, from chilled fruit ice to roasted peppercorn ham. Platters of pastries and fruits are everywhere. Drinks, too, of course: wines (white, red, blush, yellow), juices (orange, apple, blackberry, tart raspberry), teas (spearmint, peppermint, licorice, cinnamon and cardamom, black, green, white), ales, meads, the milk of cows, goats and rothe, even simple water. Candles light the place. The serving pieces are extraordinarily ornate.

Our heroes and the Peachtree representative, Madriel, stare at each other as they chew on sausages and munch pastries. Finally, the negotiations begin.

Really, can’t you just lay off? is pretty much our heroes’ position and goal.

You started this, is the Peachtree reply.

“It wasn’t even one of us!” whines Federico. “It was Airhead Ed!”

Madriel’s shrug is quite eloquent. “You took Benjy’s eye and paralyzed Heather. Whether the individual who did so is still with you or not, you are _all_ responsible.”

“Most of us weren’t even there for those events,” protests Ari.

Another eloquent shrug. “Anyway, it is up to the wronged parties- Benjy and Heather- to decide when their honor has been satisfied.”

The party attempts to press their case, and as they do so, halflings keep filtering in. The word is out: there’s a fat dinner to be had! This seems to disconcert the Peachtree, but as our heroes were the ones to put the word out, they are unsurprised. They keep asking every halfling that arrives to pull up a chair and join the dinner, the better to have witnesses against any unfortunate events that the presence of a witness might prevent from happening. Madriel frowns at first, but is soon chuckling at the audacity and creativity that our heroes have thereby shown. 

Jawbreaker snorts disdainfully at Madriel. “Maybe we can solve feud with marriage,” he suggests.

Madriel cocks an eyebrow. “An interesting proposal,” he admits, “one that I will carry back to my clan.” He glances around at the witnesses. “It seems that this shan’t be resolved tonight, in any event.” He chuckles again. Pushing his chair back from the table, he folds his hands across his engorged belly. “Aahhhhhhh,” he sighs contentedly. “What a fine meal!” He pulls out and lights his pipe, mellowly puffing on it and sending out sweet clouds of pungent smoke. After a few minutes, he struggles to his feet. “Well, gentlemen, ladies,” he announces, “I’ll be going now. I’m sure that we shall meet again.”

With that, Madriel Peachtree and the bodyguards he has with him depart. The party watches him as he leaves. 

“No point in letting good food go to waste,” belches Naomi, shoveling some more down.

One of the halfling strangers who has joined the party leans over to Jawbreaker. “Some kind of subtext there that I didn’t quite get,” he remarks. “But regardless, you folks are clearly a group of adventurers of some kind, right?”

Chief Jawbreaker gives him a bushy-browed look and a grunt.

”What do you say you guys meet me for lunch tomorrow?” he suggests. “I’m Finndo- Finndo Hodiddly. I might have a proposal for you.” He looks around. “I can’t take you somewhere fancy like this, but if you want to meet me at the Sea Lion around midday, I can treat you to some fine crab stew!”

Jawbreaker grunts again. This time he nods as well.

***

_*9/15/372 O.L.G., 2 p.m.*_

Nara whispers her invocation to Coila and issues a _sending_ to Heather Peachtree. If she can forgive them, that’s half the battle, right?

_On behalf of the Flapjacks we seek resolution with the Peachtrees. We seek peace, we seek the Promised Land. In order to find the Promised_

Nara curses. _Out of words,_ she realizes.

A moment later, Heather’s reply comes: _There will be peace when I have my revenge._

“Damn,” Nara swears. “Well, it was worth a try.”

The party mills about the docks, waiting for their ship, _the Promised Land_, to arrive. An earlier _sending,_ cast to summon Captain Tarth, should bear fruit within the hour, assuming that the ship ran into no trouble on the way. 

Federico turns to Finndo. Since lunch, the Hodiddly has accompanied our heroes’ every move- and with good reason, since they will be traveling together, at least for a while. Our heroes have a call to answer: the call of Auntie Flapjacks, from whom Federico recently received a _sending_ begging him to come home. “Are you sure that a sea vessel can travel up the river?” the kobold asks, not for the first time.

Finndo nods again, grinning. “Yes, I’ve sailed up into the Lofta myself back in better days.” He seems quite cheerful. “Although, really, it’s more of a canal until we reach the city of Diey.” 

“And that’s where you’re going?”

Finndo nods yet again. “Yes. There is a stolen family heirloom that I need to recover.” He turns very serious; his smile hides behind a stern mien. “I _will_ have it back.” Like the sun emerging from behind clouds, his smile pokes itself back out into view. “And if you could help me, I’d really appreciate it!”

“Look!” cries Nara suddenly, pointing out across the harbor. Though their short stature prevents them from seeing over much cover, by moving about and craning their necks, our heroes can make out the form of their approaching ship. Collectively, they smile. 

“Well, we told you over lunch that we’d help you,” Naomi reminds Finndo. “We’re all halflings, after all.”

***

Soon they are back aboard their vessel. Captain Tarth nods at their new acquaintance; one can almost hear the mental sigh she heaves at having yet another halfling mouth to feed. When she hears their plan, though, she does not sigh; she just nods. “Aye, we can sail up the canal,” she confirms Finndo’s words. “I’ve seen bigger vessels do so before- albeit, not much bigger.”

So, for the next few days, our heroes cut into Strogass, the Dark Continent. As they head up the river, they move through mile after mile of flat land with only a few struggling scrubs and weeds living on it. The soil is infertile; some would say cursed. The canal- and a road that cuts rudely through what little vegetation does live here- is straight, as unbending as a brick. Here and there, they pass a small cluster of homes of stone and wood. Now and then, they see another boat, either gradually overtaking them or passing them in the opposite direction. At several points they seem the burnt remains of a ship beached on the edge of the canal. At one point, a trampled area holds broken spears and arrows and several dozen corpses wearing the remains of Imperial Strogassian uniforms. 

“I wonder how Laodegan is doing,” comments Federico.*

There is, of course, no answer forthcoming. 

The days are clear; the nights show a light dusting of clouds over the glitter of the stars. Up the canal they go, _the Promised Land_ gliding through the slick green waters. 

Soon enough, they reach Diey. Run down, full of beggars, a ramshackle city, Diey is the capitol of Stempa Province, although Lox Pentor is certainly a bigger and better city. “It has to do with their location,” Captain Tarth explains. “They’re right on the edge of the Lofta Forest. This means they have elves here. Elves who want to accumulate power have a lot more time to do it in than humans do. Thus, Diey is the capitol.”

“Interesting,” Federico says.

The party and Finndo disembark. 

***

On the way to finish Finndo’s quest, our heroes make a single concerted push to finish off a group of rampaging goblins. The goblins, for the most part, cannot stand up to our heroes, though their dire lion pets do a fair job of both surprising and mauling our heroes. Their leader is a whip-wielding druid, who pulls a number of dirty druidic tricks (such as casting _animal growth_ on the dire lions and using multiple summons), but try as he might, he cannot defeat our heroes. Finally, Nara finishes him off with a mighty blow of her mace.  The party loots, frees the goblins’ prisoners, and heads back to town to escort the prisoners back to relative safety. Then they set out again the next morning, hoping to find Finndo’s lost heirloom. As their ship pulls away from the canal and into a real river, Captain Tarth squints back at Diey and shakes her head. “Waste of a place,” she grunts. 

South they travel, moving days into the forest along the river. Nobody wants to get lost in there! Even so, they encounter a variety of creatures as they make their way along the river. A great plant tries to eat their succulent, tasty bodies; they manage to defeat it. They cross paths with a rather deranged halfling calling himself Strangelove, who joins them for a brief time. They encounter wasps far bigger than themselves; _flame strikes_ from Ari and Rush’s powerful psychic blade turn the tide. Strangelove proves quite adept at the healing arts in this encounter, while the wasps prove tenacious and vicious. Our heroes, however, prove triumphant, and soon they are tying off to the shore to rest for the night. Many of them are fairly wounded, and Rush is in extremely poor shape. The group rests all day the next day, then leaves the following morning. The crew have to use poles to avoid some of the river’s obstacles; but nevertheless, the journey continues.

That night, while they are sleeping, the group is _fireballed._

_*Next Time:*_ Night time attack!


*Laodegan had been a human companion of the party’s briefly, long ago. He had been the son of some sort of noble or official or something (I don’t think the party ever figured out exactly who he was related to), and when the party encountered him subsequently, he seemed to be doing well, as he was in command of a ship.


----------



## the Jester

*WHOOSH-BOOM!!!*

Nobody notices anything coming until the _fireball_ goes off. Strangelove is on watch, but he sees nothing- until the bead has blossomed into a beautiful yellow-red rose of flames all around him.

Naturally, the rest of the party awakens at this point. They are, after all, somewhat on fire and stuff. 

Scrambling to their feet, groggy, the halflings pull up weapons, ready spells and powers- and are surprised to find that their fire-flinging foe is a troll. Three of the warty-skinned, wire-haired giants rise up from the nearby creek, one of them cackling and screeching commands to the others in Giant. The two charge. 

Ari, Rush, Finndo, Strangelove and Rock meet their rush with weapons drawn, and a terrific struggle ensues. The troll sorceror bombards our heroes with various spells, but restrains herself from unleashing another _fireball_ due to the proximity of her allies (brothers? Husbands? Brother-husbands? Who knows, with trolls).

The trolls are tough; clearly, they have fought their share of battles. But just as clearly, they were not expecting such fierce resistance from a group composed almost entirely of little halflings, and soon both of the fighters fall. The party turns their attention on the crone, who cackles in Strogassian, “You little ones are more formidable than I had expected!” With that, she flees underwater. Our heroes make a brief attempt at catching her, but venturing into the water- where, apparently, the troll sorceress is in her element, and our heroes certainly aren’t- sounds like a recipe for disaster. 

Instead, our heroes try to burn the defeated trolls. Strangely, they do not burn; they seem waterlogged. Still, neither do they regenerate, so our heroes shrug and call it even. 

***

Deeper, deeper into the woods the party goes, poling and rowing upstream. The woods are thick, and where the river narrows- which is for a lot of the trip- the foliage closes overhead, leaving the river in perpetual gloom. 

As they journey, they have a brief clash with some kind of plant monster, but it is over in seconds. Finndo shows quite a talent with reciting poetics during this battle, and our heroes are heartened by his words, improving their prowess. 

***

_*9/26/372 O.L.G., 11:45 p.m., resting in the Lofta Forest*_

Solid ground, a large fire, a bed that isn’t moving- these are nice things, so the halflings tends to make camp alongside the river while Captain Tarth and the crew stay on board. Everyone is asleep, except for the watch- and Finndo and Queffe, who are in the middle of a nice, long, quiet lovemaking session (nothing like constantly risking your life to fire up the blood!). 

A loud voice suddenly calls out in Strogassian. “Ho there, little ones. You are in my wood. To pass, you must pay me tribute.”

Coitus interruptus, alas. Queffe and Finndo scramble apart, reaching for weapons. Ari- on watch- stands up. “Uh, who are you?”

There is a low laugh. “You wish to see me? Very well.” The words are followed by a slithering sound, and then- a long, sinuous form, reptillian and green, emerges into the light of the campfire. It has no wings, but otherwise looks like some kind of dragon. 

The rest of the party is scrambling to their feet and pulling out their own weapons, but the dragon rushes forward and strikes Rush a blow with one of its claws. “TRIBUTE!!” it roars.

Blood has been drawn. Our heroes will not let that pass unanswered. They attack. The dragon, much like the trolls before it, soon proves surprised by the level and quality of resistance that the halflings put up. Soon it is on the defensive, and then it is trying to escape. But Rush’s strange psychic blade catches it in the back, and the thing roars and staggers and falls, dead. 

“Damn!” exclaims Ari. “A dragon!”

“I don’t think it’s a true dragon,” Strangelove answers. “Look, no wings. I think it was some kind of drake.”

“Either way,” Finndo says cheerfully, “in the morning we should backtrack its trail and try to find its lair!”

Indeed, when the day breaks and the adventurers rise, that is exactly what they do. The ship waits where it is while the party moves inland, following the drake’s trail until they find a sinkhole with a cave leading off from it. The lair in the cave proves to have some loot in it, which our heroes naturally appropriate. 

Then it’s back to the ship, and further upstream.

***

_*9/27/372 O.L.G., 11:00 a.m., on the river*_

“We should be nearing Stetva,” Captain Tarth says. “If my estimation is correct, we should pass through it sometime late this afternoon.”

“Captain!” someone cries from the crow’s nest. “A boat is coming!”

Our heroes crowd on deck, and Captain Tarth takes up a spyglass. In a minute, a small boat holding a quartet of well-armed elves comes into view. Soon enough they are close enough to hail _the Promised Land,_ but as they reach that distance, they back oars and halt in the water, maintaining their distance.

“Travelers,” one of the elves calls. “Soon you will pass by Stetva. _Pass it by._ Do not stop.” The elven boat begins to reverse course.

“Why not? Is there plague?” Ari shouts back.

“Visitors are not presently welcome,” is the reply. “Just pass by! Do not stop!”

Our heroes exchange looks with each other. The elven boat is moving much faster than the larger vessel that our heroes are on. Soon it is out of view.

“Right,” sighs Captain Tarth. “I guess there’s nowhere big that’s friendly before we get to the Stern Mountains, then.”

“How far is that?” asks Queffe.

“We aren’t yet half way.”

_*Next Time:*_ Captain Tarth is right, there’s nowhere friendly that’s _big_ coming up- but there _is_... Squirrel Town!


----------



## the Jester

*Squirrel Town*

Nara, Queffe, Rush, Chief Jawbreaker, Erasmuz and Naomi are on the deck of _the Promised Land,_ their ship, which is navigating upriver, heading inland. To their left is the elven city of Stetva, which they have been warned not to approach. They sigh regretfully as they pass it by. 

“Damn,” breathes Queffe, “it’s a shame that they won’t let us stop in.”

Rush shrugs. “We could kill some of them,” the human says callously.

“No! We leave them alone,” Jawbreaker says sharply. 

The city passes. The few elves that are visible are armed and do not look especially friendly. Jawbreaker snorts. Naomi snacks on some sausage. 

Up, up the river. Captain Tarth is quietly annoyed with the folk of Stetva, but within the woods it would be unwise to pick a fight with the elves. They are lucky, in fact, that the elves did not try to simply sink their ship and kill them all. But as the afternoon draws late, a small vessel appears ahead, drawing near the halfling ship.

“Hear me, Big Ones!” cries a small voice from the approaching boat. The halfing party exchanges startled looks, which break into grins. The voice comes again: “Please, I implore you- help my people!”

The boat is roughly the size of a human bathtub. Our heroes peer closer, and discover the origin of the voice: a humanoid squirrel about 2’ tall!

“Well, hello!” exclaims Nara. “We may be willing to help your people. Would you like to come aboard to tell us more?”

“Very well,” the squirrel girl replies, and within a few moments her boat is aboard _the Promised Land._

“What are you?” asks Naomi frankly. She licks her lips hungrily, and Jawbreaker gives her a sharp look. 

“I’m a kercpa,” the squirrel girl answers. “And my village is in trouble! We are troubled by a terrible large mean thing! Please, our king and queen will tell all- will you help us?”

“We not like big things picking on little things,” Jawbreaker growls. “We help.”

***

The kercpa village is in and around the trees. It is the first time that our heroes have been somewhere significantly underscale for them. It is a weird feeling- they are the _Big Ones_ now. Although, when the tale comes, the giant troubling them is bigger, by far. Still- 

“We’ve killed giants before,” remarks Jawbreaker casually. “We handle him for you, no problem.”

“We don’t want him killed,” the kercpa king tells them.

“Huh??” 

“He has protected us for years. Recently, something has made him very angry with us. We need to know what, and to fix it.”

“He protects you?” Nara’s voice carries disbelief. 

“Yes. We make his beer, so as long as we keep him happily drunk, he doesn’t cause us any trouble, and he keeps trouble away from us.”

“You make beer?” Naomi cocks an eyebrow.

“Yes,” the kercpa replies, “from acorns. Would you like to try some?”

***

The acorn beer, though bitter, is fairly potent. It is a novel experience for our heroes, who have never had such a thing before. The squirrel-folk serve the party nuts and berries, as well, and though it is a token gesture before halfling hunger, it is touching. While the party nibbles on the kercpa food, they discuss the best way to proceed. Clearly, they need to find this giant and interrogate him if they are to find out the source of his anger. Erasmuz asks where the giant receives his beer, and the kercpa queen tells him that it is left for him at the edge of a nearby bog.

“Well, that’s where we need to go then,” the ur-priest replies. He strokes his goatee. “Maybe Jawbreaker can track him.”

The party stands up (they have been sitting on the ground or various branches). “All right,” Nara says, “let’s go.”

_*Next Time:*_ On the trail of the giant!


----------



## the Jester

The feet of a giant, naturally, are quite large. That makes tracking a giant... not too difficult. From the marshy bog where the kercpa leave him his beer, our heroes have no problem picking up his trail. The large flat feet lead the party of halflings over a lonely crag on a nearby hill of tumbled rocks and broken boulders dusted by a few inches of soil in places. The struggling bushes and scrubs that scrabble at the hillside seem barely able to eke out a plant’s living; several of the young oak trees along the way seem to have given up and died. Beyond the crag, our heroes find a field of yellow flowers- with a clear walking path running through it.

“How big do you suppose the giant is?” Nara wonders aloud.

Jawbreaker grunts. “Ten and a half feet,” he replies. 

The path leads across the field and to a lower area. Much like the first bog, this is a wet, swampy area. Nara _water walks_ the party, and they proceed. Naomi, gnawing on a chicken bone, _mindlinks_ everyone as the air starts to turn misty. In only a few minutes, the atmosphere changes from clear to thick fog.

“Is this natural?” mutters Queffe.

Ari sniffs the air. “Seems like it,” he answers. “The water on the ground tends to put some of itself into the air in places like this.”

Suddenly a loud _crack_ emanates from the mist ahead, followed by a loud _snuffing_ sound.

“What was that?” exclaims Erasmuz.

_Shhh,_ Naomi sends over the _mindlink._ She starts to creep forward, her immense bulk surprisingly quiet, given her size. _Let’s see if we can sneak up on it, whatever it is!_ As she tiptoes forward, her dainty (well, not really) cankles shivering like gelatin, something ahead of her starts to resolve from the mist. There are several shapes, bigger than a halfling- probably larger than a human! The crunching sound comes again, and Naomi realizes what it is: _They’re chewing on bones,_ she thinks. _Well, in a few minutes, maybe we can eat them!_ She throws her hands forward and cries an invocation to the power of Elemental Fire. Blazing heat runs through her body, leaving her flush with ecstasy and agony at the same time- and a bead of flame rips out of her finger and spurts forward, exploding in a _fireball_ in the midst of the shrouded shapes!

The mist burns away for a moment, and as the beasts scream in shrill agony, Naomi can see them: large upright reptiles, with huge jaws and thick, dangerous-looking tails.

“Come on, guys!” Naomi whoops. “I think we’ve got some good eatin’ here!!!”

The party leaps to the attack, and though the dinosaur-like creatures bite and swing their tails at the party, the battle lasts only a few moments. Between Naomi’s magical and psionic powers, Queffe’s dervish dance- which she demonstrates for the first time in this battle- and the general overwhelming melee might of the party, the beasts are soon slain or driven off. A few moments examining their corpses leaves Naomi disgusted. “Too tough,” she announces. “Tastes a bit like gator. Maybe if we could find their young...”

Jawbreaker snorts disdainfully. “We have mission,” he reminds his corpulent companion. “You get distracted too easy.”

Queffe nods. “Yeah, we’ve got to find this giant for the squirrel folk.”

Naomi sighs regretfully, but when Erasmuz and Jawbreaker find the giant’s trail, she follows along behind. 

***

“There,” Erasmuz whispers. The _mindlink_ has long since worn off. 

The crude hut stands in the midst of a grove of tall oaks. It seems fairly well hidden from, at least, casual observation. It is clearly not the abode of a sophisticated folk- nor is it the abode of a small, or even man-sized, creature. The doorway- well, entry way, rather, since there doesn’t seem to be an actual door- looks ready to accomodate someone about ten or eleven feet high. 

Jawbreaker grunts. “Let’s go,” he growls. 

The party heads towards the hut. It takes but a moment to get there; and within, there is indeed a giant. It looks up as our heroes stride in to confront it. Its face is dull with stupidity; its brow is as thick and dense as Jawbreaker’s forearm. The stench of its body odor, mixed with piss and acorn beer, is dizzying.

The giant rumbles something in its crude tongue, but before it even has a chance to finish its question (for it is clearly speaking in an interrogative tone), Rush leaps forward and slams his _mind blade_ into the giant’s face! It gives out a startled cry as its front teeth are knocked completely free of its head. 

“No!” roars Jawbreaker. “No kill it!”

“It must surrender!” Rush cries in response, but the giant throws a punch at him. Its hand is the size of a small dog. Rush gives another cry, this one of pain and surprise, as he flies back, slamming into the wall of the hut with astounding force. He groans in pain, realizing his jaw is broken. Then the giant is right on top of him, trying to rip his foot off!

“Stop!” shouts Nara. “This won’t help anything! We need to talk to him, not kill him!”

“I can handle it, if you can help me talk to it,” Naomi gurgles. In a few seconds Nara has cast _tongues_ on her. Then Naomi smiles sweetly. “Stop it,” she _suggests,_ and the giant draws back, startled. It glares at Rush, then drops him- still intact- to the floor with a grunt.

“Now,” Erasmuz says, “maybe we can figure out what is wrong with his beer!”

_*Next Time:*_ Why is the giant angry? What’s wrong with his beer, and who is responsible? All the answers- next time!


----------



## the Jester

The giant is dull-witted and as dim as a _darkness_. He proves easy to control with the combined mind-affecting abilities of Naomi, Federico, Erasmuz and Nara.

“So what’s wrong with your beer?” asks Federico. Naomi, under the influence of Nara’s _tongues_ spell, translates.

“It tastes funny,” the giant whines. “Like someone piss in it.” He frowns angrily. “I show them not to piss in beer! They want my protection, they must earn it!”

“Who would piss in the giant’s beer?” wonders Erasmuz. 

“And why?” Jawbreaker adds. He frowns. “We have to investigate back at squirrel town.”

“Maybe I can appease the giant,” Naomi says. “What’s the best beer or liquor we have in the party?” 

The group digs through their stores, and comes up with a bottle of dwarven spirits. Naomi pours a generous cup for the giant and instructs him to try it. “Did you like that?” she asks. 

He smacks his lips and nods.

Naomi walks over to the keg of beer that the giant is displeased with and puts a drop of the dwarven spirits on her tongue. Then she channels the power of elemental water. It blazes through her body, and she grits her teeth against the power flowing through her. Then there is a flash of energy that flows into the piss-tainted beer, and Naomi’s _metamorphose liquids_ takes effect, changing the beer into dwarven spirits!

“There you go,” she beams. “Now, we’re going to find out who did this and take care of it. It wasn’t the squirrel folk- they asked us to help make you happy, because they don’t want you to be unhappy. They like you.” She speaks slowly and clearly, and the dull-eyed giant listens attentively, but who can say whether he really understands her? She sighs internally, and thinks, _Well, I’ve done what I can to help ensure that he doesn’t hurt the kercpa._

The party hurries back to the squirrel town, where they speak to the same kercpa that dispatched them initially. He chitters in surprise at their news. “Who would do this?” the squirrel man cries. “Surely, none of our people! And who else would have had access?”

Federico hems and haws for a moment. Then, thoughtfully, he asks, “Do you leave cookies and milk out for your fey?”

“What? Well, we used to leave cheese out, but...”

“Ohhhh,” says Federico, “you _used to._ When did you stop?”

“Well...”

“About the same time as the trouble with the giant started, I bet?”

“Actually... now that you mention it...”

“That’s it,” the kobold pronounces firmly. “You’ve offended your fairies. They’re peeing in the beer to pay you back. You need to leave them their favorites out again. Cheese, or cookies, and milk, or mead, or whatever they like.”

“And... and you think that that will make them happy again?”

“You’ll probably have to apologize,” opines Nara. 

“Yeah, and maybe do something for them,” Queffe adds, gyrating suggestively. 

The party and the squirrel folk discuss their approach to making nice with the fey. Finally, it is decided that the halflings will wait near the offerings, with one of them always on watch, and will try to talk to the fey when they come for the cheese. “We can verify that they’re the cause of the problem,” Queffe says, “and find out what has to happen to smooth it over.”

***

_*Just outside of the kercpa town, 2 a.m.*_

Naomi yawns. It’s her watch, and she’s sleepy; so to keep herself awake, she was snacking on some rabbit stew. It was quite tasty; now all that’s left is the bowl, which she buries her face in, her slug-like tongue pressing against the side of the bowl, lapping up every last remnant of food and grease.

With a satisfied belch, the repulsive jerren puts the bowl down. Then she glances at the bait- and is gratified to find a fairy at the cheese!

“Hello!” Naomi calls. “We mean you no harm! Stay a while, and talk!” She pushes with her mind, turning her last words into a _suggestion_. The fey hesitates, its gossamer insect wings beating the air, and then settles onto the ground next to the cheese and starts nibbling.

Naomi kicks the others awake. “So, uh, is it your folk that are pissing in the beer these folks make for the giant?”

“Yeah,” the fey answers, and giggles. “They haven’t been giving us our due!”

“We know,” the fat halfling replies. “We’re trying to help put things right. That’s why there is cheese out tonight.”

“Mmm, it’s good,” the fairy interjects.

“Good, good.” The other halflings are rising quickly.

“So, uh, will there be anything else that you require to restore the status quo?” Nara asks. 

“Oh, well, as to that,” the fairy drawls, “yeah, the kercpa have already offended us. Now they need to do us a favor.”

“What favor?” asks Chief Jawbreaker.

“We need the bad gardner disposed off.”

“The who?” Queffe cocks her head.

“The bad gardner,” the fairy replies. “He has a bad garden. Fairies go in and don’t come out. The plants are... wrong, too.”

“Uh huh,” saya Erasmuz. “I bet we can help you out with that, buddy.” He grins.

***

The bad gardner turns out to be an evil druid, accompanied by a dire wolf. The battle when they meet is fast and furious; the dire wolf pulls Jawbreaker from his feet and savages him, and the bad gardner uses his druidic magic to try to _poison_ him; but Nara, augmented by the power of her goddess, Coila, rushes into melee after first unleashing a _flame strike._ Queffe and Erasmuz leap into the battle too, and in a few short moments it is over. 

That night, after the party places the bad gardner’s head on the offering place for the fairies, the fey folk come out and thank our heroes. “All is forgiven,” they sing, giggling. “We won’t pee in the giant’s beer any more!” 

“Well, I guess that worked out,” remarks Nara. 

“Sure did, buddy,” Erasmuz replies.

Our heroes continue their journey inland towards the area in which they hope to find the Flapjacks. The party is returning to where their adventures started.

That night, while he is sleeping, Federico shudders, as if caught in the grip of a terrible nightmare spawned by memory or premonition- or both.

*Next Time:* The secret of the sour cream!


----------



## the Jester

The day is overcast and there is a light breeze. A few trees dot the landscape, which is increasingly dominated by long thin grass. One of these trees, Ari ascends. He looks about from a fairly high perch and takes in the surrounding area, getting an idea of the nearby features. Several miles away is a mid-sized town, which seems to be belching foul yellow smoke into the air. A huge smear of brown besmirches the air for miles around it. There is a small village not far past it; what looks like a halfling wagon is approaching it. In the distance, further south, the Stern Mountains rise up from the ground. Somewhere, in that direction, our heroes will- hopefully- find the Flapjacks clan.

After Ari scrambles back down the tree and reports, the party decides to skip over the polluted town and instead seek out the halflings heading towards the village. They marched cheerfully towards the village, reaching it in about an hour and a half. They have no trouble finding the hafling wagon. The halflings greet the party happily- “It’s always good to see others of our kind,” one of them squeals. 

”Have you guys seen the Flapjacks at all lately?” asks Federico. 

The halflings from the wagon are Goodwheels. A young, handsome fellow scratches his chin and says, “Well, we ran across them a few months ago... but not since then.”

“Oh yeah?” Federico squirms happily. “Where were they?” 

“Along the base of the Stern Mountains,” the lad replies. 

“So what are you guys doing here?” asks Naomi, gnawing on a piece of jerky.

Two of the Goodwheels exchange a glance. One of them says, “There is a cooking contest here, and we’re checking it out.”

“The truth is,” the other one says, “there’s someone specific we are kind of... interested in.”

“Really?” asks Nara. “Another halfling?” 

“No, a human. Her name is Taksha.” He sighs. “We want to know what her secret ingredient is!”

“I’m telling you,” the other Goodwheel says, “it’s something in the sour cream. She does something weird with it. Or maybe she uses the milk of some weird kind of creature or something.”

“Well, we’ll be happy to try to help figure out the answer for you guys.” Nara grins. Rush heaves a sigh and shakes his head; he’s only here to kill things for the party, not taste test sour cream.

But to a band of halflings, taste testing sour cream sounds great. They attempt to be appointed judges in the contest, only to find that it is already over. Fortunately, the town’s tradition is to leave all of the entered food dishes out for public consumption, and so our heroes get to try a number of delicious entrees. One of them- the winning dish- is a delicious layered meat and sour cream dish, and indeed, the sour cream is very good, faintly spicy, with an interesting, unidentifiable tang to it. 

“What is that?” Erasmuz wonders. “Some kind of spice?”

“That isn’t cow cheese,” Naomi mumbles around a bite.

“Goat?” asks Nara. 

The fat one shakes her head. “No,” she belches, “not goat either. I’m not really sure.”

Ari frowns. He nibbles at it. “Hmm...” He puts his piece down, barely touched. He looks thoughtful while he masticates. Rubs his chin. Swallows. _It’s not a cow, but certainly it’s from something cow-like. And it almost seems like it’s part-human, too._ He examines a few possibilities in his mind. Then, he pronounces, “It’s from a minotaur.”

”What?” exclaims Rush, looking slightly green. 

“The sour cream. It’s from minotaur’s milk.”

“That’s... bizarre!” Nara bursts out, rather at a loss for words. “Why would... what reason... and how, I mean, does someone have a she-minotaur who he... like, milks, or something?” Well, maybe not a loss for words, but certainly for complete sentences.

“Yeah, that doesn’t make too much sense at all, now that you mention it.” Ari looks puzzled, too.

“Well, buddies,” Erasmuz suggests, “let’s ask the human.”

***

But as soon as the human realizes that they’re on to her, she jumps out the window of her room at the inn. And when they race to the window and look outside, she’s nowhere in sight. 

“Wow, she’s quick,” Erasmuz remarks.

“Or invisible somehow,” Nara replies. 

“Huh,” shrugs Rush. “We should have killed her.”

“We can’t just go killing everyone who doesn’t want to talk to us,” Ari says.

“Why not? This is Strogass.” 

“That’s true,” Ari admits.

***

Out of the village, then; and on towards the mountains. The town that is spewing pollution into the sky is passing to the east, and Ari turns into a hawk to examine it from above. The air near it is foul. The land around it seeks wilted. A strong stream runs into the town, but some weird kind of water wheel turns it into a trickle of a creek, and a polluted one at that, with slicks of yellow-brown sludge clinging to the edge of the water wheel and dangling downstream like long tails. Some kind of refinery belches smoke from multiple tall smokestacks into the sky. The air is behazed with greasy soot-like material.

Ari returns to the others and tells them what he saw. “I think we should go in and destroy that water wheel,” he says. “That refinery, too. They don’t need to be doing that- despoiling nature like that!” 

“I agree!” Rush cries, mostly because he wants to get into a fight. “It’s time we killed something!”

“Sure, buddy,” Erasmuz grins. “Let’s go do it!”

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes wreck a town, then run into... Holstein!


----------



## the Jester

*Holstein!*

The town is dominated by the strange factory, or refinery, or whatever it is. The buildings squat next to some sort of strange water wheel, which seems to change a strong, broad stream into a weak, polluted trickle. The water seems to be consumed somehow, somewhere between the wheel and factory setup and the downstream edge of town. 

Like an angry pack of wolves, our heroes descend upon this affront to nature. Spells blast out and weapons hack at the wheel. The townsfolk do not dare put up any resistance to lightning from the sky and exploding _fireballs._ Panic spreads; screams echo through the town as the folk flee, scrambling inside, running away into the fields or hiding down alleys or behind barrels of garbage.

With a massive, echoing crash, the water wheel topples as Ari, in the form of a dire bear, shoves it over with a roar. Flames lick up along the walls of the refinery, or factory, or whatever it is. Oily, mustard-tinted smoke boils into the sky. The slick of pollution atop the river downstream of the factory burns with a thin blue flame, then goes out, and then alights again for a few moments. 

Ari changes back into his halfling form and shouts at the top of his lungs at the fleeing villagers. “RESPECT NATURE!!” he bellows. “IF YOU TRY TO REBUILD THIS ATROCITY, WE WILL RETURN AND DESTROY IT AGAIN!!!”

Smoke rises over the town.

***

“Not bad,” smirks Erasmuz. 

“We did well,” Ari agrees. “That place was a blight on nature.”

“I just hope that the people there have another way to make a living,” whines Federico. “What if they were being forced to do that work? You know, on peril of their lives?”

Naomi shrugs. “Well, they could have said something while we were there.”

“That’s true,” Federico agrees thoughtfully. 

Rush just snorts. 

The party is walking south, towards the Stern Mountains in the distance and their presumptive rendezvous with Auntie Flapjacks. There are copses of trees here and there on the plains, and the party is passing one such copse when, suddenly, figures begin to emerge from the trees.

Minotaurs.

They are led by a massive, muscled minotaur bull that is white with big black spots (including one on his belly). A broad girdle is strapped around his waist; each of his meaty hands holds a hand axe. One of the axes is alight with a bright orange flame.

“Uh, hi,” says Erasmuz.

More and more minotaurs emerge behind Holstein until there are eight more- if our heroes only knew; these are Holstein’s young, strong and arrogant sons. Finally, a massive bison trots out of the stand of trees and stands next to Holstein, snorting and glaring at the halflings. 

“I wonder if these guys are connected to that sour cream,” Nara starts, but she doesn’t have a chance to say much else, for the minotaur gang gives out a roar and rushes to the attack. Before they can get very far forward, they are met by a _fireball_ as Naomi channels elemental energy and blasts them. Then Ari throws an _entangle_ spell, and the minotaurs are largely stopped in their tracks, at least for the moment!

Ari’s wolf rushes forward into melee with the foremost minotaurs, and it starts snapping and snarling at them. Their axes hack down towards it, but it dances back. Ari (still a dire bear) manages to cast _greater magic fang_ on it, and it lunges forward again. Nara vanishes into a _timeslip_, and Naomi initiates her _energy retort_. Her fat face is distorted with a malevolent grin; she licks her lips, clearly wondering how minotaur tastes. 

The minotaurs, meanwhile, struggle in the entangling plants. A couple of them manage to break free and reach the party; one of them swings its axe and catches Naomi a glancing blow across the side. She stumbles away, giving a cry of pain, but then she grins as her _energy retort_ triggers and a blast of flame shoots into the minotaur that struck her, killing it!

A _flame strike_ bursts down as Nara reappears, engulfing and killing a pair of the minotaurs that are stuck in the _entangle._ Rush charges forward and fells a minotaur in a single blow backed by incredible psionic potency. He whirls, focuses, and springs forward, running another of the minotaurs through with his _mind blade._

Holstein charges forward, but Erasmuz is ready for him. The little ur-priest sucks away divine power from the gods and casts _slay living._ Holstein drops in his tracks, slain without a sound or a chance to attack.*

The remaining minotaurs give a collective low of despair. Rush moves inexorably to the next one and decapitates him, and Ari- still in dire bear form- rushes the last one and mauls it to death in a few rough seconds. 

The grass and brush still twists, keeping the corpses tangled, as our heroes draw back for a moment. They take stock of their situation, and to their surprise (and pleasure!) they find that they are barely wounded- only Naomi and the wolf even got hurt.

“You know, I bet there’s a connection between these guys and that town,” Ari declares, turning back into his true, halfling form. 

“Maybe they attacked us because we took out their operation,” Naomi says. 

“We could backtrack them and find out where they came from,” suggests Nara.

“Well, we’re barely outside of the town,” Ari replies. “If these minotaurs were responsible for that water wheel- because, let’s face it, those peasants didn’t set that up- maybe if we take the leader’s head back to them, they’ll take heart.”

Rush snorts again. The message is clear: _Who cares about the stupid peasants?_ The halflings ignore him, however; they cut off Holstein’s head and walk the ten minutes back to the town. When the townsfolk see them coming, about a dozen of them form a loose skirmish line with hoes, shovels, kitchen knives and the like as crude weapons. 

Ari steps forward. “We aren’t here to hurt you!” he shouts, and hurls Holstein’s severed head to the ground before them. A great murmur arises from the crowd. “We came back to show you we mean what we say. You will not rebuild that monstrosity! You are now free to do as you will!”

Our heroes turn around and depart the town again, leaving it in a bit of uproar. They return to the site of the minotaur ambush and begin to track Holstein and his brood back to their lair. Soon they find a small craggy area, and the trail leads into a cave in the crags. 

Within the cave our heroes find a prison, and within the prison- minotaur cows. They are chained to the ground, and several of them shows the signs of beatings. They cower in their cells when the party enters the chamber. A strange apparatus with hoses and tubes and a crank and nozzles and bottles is in the center of the cell block; the hoses appear long enough to reach into the cells. A little examination, and Erasmuz surmises that the contraption is some sort of milking machine. He glances slyly into one of the cells, fingering the end of the hose suggestively, and is gratified to see the minotaur female shrink back from him. He cackles evilly.

Along the wall are barrels of water, but upon examination, they prove to be polluted water from the stream outside, rather than pure water.

“Aha,” Naomi mutters. “So the polluted water is what makes the minotaur milk taste funny, so that when it turns into sour cream it has that unique tang.”

“And of course,” Nara nods, “the minotaur women don’t want to drink that crap, so he has to force feed it to them.” 

“That’s horrible!” Ari exclaims.

Erasmuz, meanwhile, hooks one of the minotaur cows into the milking machine, cackling villainously, and begins to extract the milk from her teats. She bleats out a despairing cry. A bottle begins to fill with strangely-tainted milk.

_*Next Time:*_ Where is Aunty Flapjacks?


*This is how my players know that I am a “let the dice fall where they may” dm: I make really cool villains, and let them die before they have a chance to act via a pc’s death magic. It makes me sad; I wanted to use my 10th level ranger minotaur!  Oh well, at least his story came out in the game. That counts for something- as often as not, I have bitchin’ backstories for my npcs, and the party never learns anything about them except, once in a while, via the story hours.


----------



## Alcar

*......*

That's called milking the cow(minotaur) for all it's worth..

Backstory..minotaur..haha.

The frontstory of Holstein's life is now he's dead...bravo, excellent story.

BUMP


----------



## the Jester

_*10 a.m., 11/4/372 O.L.G., the plains north of the Stern Mountains*_

Ari, as a hawk, flaps down and settles in next to the others. His form melts like wax, and sudenly he’s a halfling again. “Hey, guys,” he tells the rest of the party, “there’s a trio of halfling wagons ahead!”

“Really?” exclaims Federico. “I hope that they are Flapjacks, and not Peachtrees. I don’t want to fight any Peachtree halflings. Or really, any halflings at all.” The little kobold’s tail is tucked between his legs. 

“They are Flapjacks- at least, two of them are,” Ari nods. “I checked it out pretty closely. The third wagon is a Hempflower clan wagon.” 

“Martini’s birth clan!” Federico squeals. “I wonder if he’s back on Strogass!” Then he grins. “I hope Aunty is with those wagons!”

“I thought he was still on Dyshim? Well, who knows,” Ari says.

“Who are you talking about?” Rush asks.

“Martini. An old clan mate.” Federico explains, “The halfling clans that wander Strogass, when they meet up, they often trade kids. Like, one from each clan will go over to live with the other clan. This helps cement friendships between clans, arrange marriages- you know, the usual stuff. Martini was the Hempflower boy that I grew up with, and he grew into a fine, mighty ranger. He traveled with us for many adventures.”*

“Only one way to find out,” grunts Chief Jawbreaker. “Let’s go!”

The party moves forward at a quick pace. There is a spring in their step. They are about to meet friendly folk- and maybe, even, Aunty Flapjacks! Soon the wagons come into view, and soon they spot the party approaching. Halflings gather outside. Federico grins and runs forward into their smiling, welcoming embrace. “Hi, everyone! It’s been so long since I’ve seen all of you!” He is licking everyone, showing his belly, being a good dog. Berry Flapjacks, who spent years growing up together with Federico (as the clan dog), is there, and she rapidly proves to be the leader of the group. Feddie’s tail thumps wildly as she scratches him under the belly. Her boyfriend, Luke Goodwheel, is with her. Federico doesn’t know him, and he proves to play the flute much more than he talks.

Cookie is there, too; he is an old man, Berry’s great uncle. When Federico was a pup, Cookie used to tease him with food, but would always cave in eventually. Now Cookie has gone senile and is wracked with a horrid phlegmatic cough. Federico feels rather sad for him. 

Then there is the 20-year-old  Keldrin Flapjacks. Keldrin was the Flapjacks child traded for Martini and has lived with the Hempflowers until the two clans’ wagons met up about 2 weeks ago. Further, Mango Flapjacks, a traveling druidess, has come to aid Berry. Mango always traveled a lot, so Feddie never really go to know her very well.

From the Hempflower wagon, there is no sign of Martini. In his stead, our heroes find his father, Martin Hempflower. He tells the party that although his clan remains neutral in the feud, his heart is with the Flapjacks. He warns them that he will not do anything to drag his own kin into the conflict, however.

In addition, there are quite a few children present. From the Flapjacks clan, there are Posie, Drelsie, Muffin and George (all of whom are essentially cousins to Federico); along with them as fosters are Palindrome Hodiddly and Harthing Hempflower (Martini’s cousin). Martin’s oldest grandson, Wheat, is with him, but Wheat is only 1 year old.

Notably absent is Aunty.

So, of course, Federico asks. “Where’s Aunty?”

Berry sighs. “We’re not exactly sure, though we do have a good idea,” she answers him. “We don’t know how worried to be, or when to be worried about this. She went to consult some kind of entity for knowledge concerning...” She hesitates for a moment, watching Federico intently. “Concerning whatever it was she called you back here for. I don’t know exactly, but I think it has to do with the feud.”

“The feud with the Peachtrees?” asks the kobold.

”Vendetta,” she nods. “They’ve declared vendetta. I fear many lives may be lost.”

“That’s terrible!” exclaims Federico. 

“What do you know about this ‘entity?’” asks Erasmuz, pleased at his ability to maintain a straight face and hold his tongue as several reckless things to say occur to him.

“Not much,” admits Berry. “She was going to trade some books for information to them. I did overhear something Aunty Flapjacks tell another of the clan elders before the wagons left their previous camp to come here: _I have to go seek answers from the Myriad Glimpses. There is something else behind this feud, and I think the kids faced it before. I hope that dog is taking good care of them!_”

“I do my best,” whines Federico. 

“And,” Berry adds, “I know where she went.” She turns and points into the distance. “That mountain there.” 

Our heroes exchange a very meaningful glance. 

***

The top of the mountain takes minutes to reach via _wind walk._ At the top is an old shrine, open to the elements. It is quite cold; a few spots have ice or snow on them, but only a few. The shrine consists of a 30’ diameter dais, raised 10’ above the surrounding ground, that the path leads directly up. There are six pillars arranged along the perimeter of the shrine; it has no walls. Old books are scattered around the shrine. Along the edge of the roof, some words are written in some incomprehensible language, repeating the same few words over and over again.

Our heroes search around, but they find little of use. The books are in poor shape, having been exposed to the elements for quite some time, at least in many cases. There are halfling-sized tracks, less than a week old; but they don’t seem to leave again. Finally, Federico casts _detect secret doors_ and is pleased to discover that one of the pillars does indeed contain a secret door. 

Our heroes soon open it and discern that the interior of the pillar is actually an elevator.Though it is only big enough for one of them at a time, or two if they squeeze, it only takes a couple of minutes for everyone to descend.

At the bottom of the elevator shaft, our heroes find themselves in what is unquestionably a crypt. And, a few dozen feet inside, is a perfectly rendered statue of Aunty Flapjacks.

_*Next Time:*_ Can Aunty be saved?


*Vic, who is Martini’s player, no longer lives across the street. In fact, the distance has increased significantly. Plus, he’s a family man, and the missus doesn’t like giving him too much time to get in trouble with the boys. Can’t say as I blame her, really.


----------



## the Jester

*To Save Aunty Flapjacks!*

The sky is grey and clouded. Atop the peak of a mountain, a small, untended shrine stands alone and, to all appearances, uninhabited. To a casual observer, there is nothing to see here except for a crumbling structure and scattered, weathered books. 

But pass through a hidden door on one of the structure’s pillars and you would find an elevator; ride the elevator to the bottom of its shaft and you find a crypt. And there, within that long, sprawling crypt with its many niches extending out of the main room like twisted arthritic fingers, are our heroes. The smell of corruption, though faint, lingers in their noses; and the sight of the stone form of Aunty Flapjacks, whom they have traveled far to meet up with, makes their blood run cold. 

“Is it...?” wonders Ari.

Jawbreaker chortles, “She got stoned.” He walks forward and takes hold of the statue, testing its weight. He grunts noncommitally.

At the far end of the chamber, something squirms up, emerging from the ground. It does not appear to leave a hole or trail behind. “Halt,” it commands, “and state your intentions. If they are not proper...” It lets the words hang as a threat.

Our heroes stare. The creature is quite strange- it looks almost like a stone caterpillar. It is not very big, nor is it very threatening; however, it does have the distorted face of a man.

Rush begins moving towards it. “We will state nothing,” he says.

“Rush,” warns Ari. “Wait a minute.”

But Rush is already faltering, staring at his arm. 

It is beginning to calcify- to turn to stone. With horror, the soulknife feels his body starting to stiffen all over! With a cry of anger, he rushes at the caterpillar, which promptly slips into the ground, leaving not a mark. Rush skids to a halt where the thing had been, looking about wildly. “Where did it go??” he cries. “I want to kill it!” But the calcifying effect has stopped, at least for the moment. 

“Dammit,” mutters Ari under his breath, “why do you always have to start a fight, Rush?” He starts casting _summon nature’s ally VI_; he is pretty well convinced that the wormy creature will be coming back around. Erasmuz is, too; he casts _barkskin_ on himself.

“That thing not important,” Jawbreaker scolds the others. “Aunty important!” He grabs the statue and then begins carefully backing towards the elevator while dragging it. Before he can get very far- for she is heavy enough that he cannot move very quickly while carrying her- the worm spring up from the ground in the midst of our heroes! Immediately its calcifying aura starts to work, and though most of the party resists the power of the worm’s presence, Ari starts to turn to stone. He groans in dismay, but maintains his concentration on his summoning spell.

However, the kobolds are ready for it. Federico hits it with a pair of _magic missiles_, and Yip hits it with his crossbow. 

Erasmuz steps up and casts _harm._ He touches the worm, but fails to penetrate its spell resistance. “Watch out,” he warns his friends. “It will be hard to hurt with spells.”

“Depends on the spell,” Ari retorts wittily. His spell is finished at last! Five minor xorns appear, surrounding the wormy creature. “Try your flee into the ground trick against these guys!” he crows. 

Yip pounces in, concentrating to make his fist like unto a thing of iron, and he strikes it hard from flanking. Rush, too, hits the monster solidly. It does not seem to feel any pain, but the party is hewing chunks of it away. Surely it cannot survive much more! Federico shoots it with his crossbow, and finally the creature decides that it has had enough. It tries to escape and drop away into the ground, but several of our heroes manage to hit it as it flees, and the weird stone caterpillar thing dies. 

“Do you always have to do that?” Ari demands of Rush. 

“Do what?” 

The druid just sighs.

***

With some maneuvering, the party manages to get the statue into a _bag of holding_. Once that is taken care of, they loot the crypt (perhaps, on reflection, their intentions weren’t _entirely_ proper) and then _wind walk_ back to the halfling wagons. In the morning, they figure, they can turn Aunty Flapjacks back to flesh.

But when the morning comes, they find the mistake in their thinking. When Erasmuz casts _break enchantment,_ Aunty Flapjacks does indeed turn back into flesh- but she collapses immediately, dead.

Ari smacks his forehead. “Of course! The calcifying aura!*” In dismay, he says, “Now what?”

“This is just a minor setback, buddy,” Erasmuz assures him. “We just need a bunch of diamonds, and I can raise him from the dead.”

“Oh yeah, you’re a cleric,” Ari replies. 

“Sure, buddy.” Erasmuz grins, but inside he is laughing maniacally. _Cleric! I am no cleric! I am an ur-priest! I do not serve the powers that call themselves gods; I take power from them!_

“Who’s your god, again?” 

“That’s not the point. The point is, we need to get some diamonds.” Erasmuz says, “I have a thousand gold pieces worth of diamond dust, which I have for some other spells, but I can kick them down. We need 5000. Does anyone else have any?”

Putting their resources together, the party finds that they have only about half of the value of what they need to bring back Aunty Flapjacks. They _wind walk_ to a small village with a diamond merchant; there they buy as much as they can afford, then _wind walk_ back to the halfling wagons.

Aunty Flapjacks returns from beyond the veil of death in a shower of stolen divine energy, with the cackles of Erasmuz echoing in the background. At first she is quite disoriented; she does not know Erasmuz, or Ari, or Rush; but then she spies Federico and a huge grins breaks out on her face. “Federico!” she cries. “It has been so long!!” 

“Oh, Auntie!” he squeals, rushing up to hug her. “We were so worried- you were gone, and then you were stone, and then you were dead-”

“It’s okay now,” she soothes him. “_I_ am okay now.” 

“But what were you doing? What’s going on? Why did you summon me back?”

“It all has to do with the vendetta,” she says.

The vendetta. The word makes our heroes’ hearts heavy. The Peachtrees have declared vendetta against the Flapjacks. And the blame weighs heavily on the party, because they are the evolution of the party that started it all. Though only Federico remains of the original group, the party shot out Benjy Peachtree’s eye early in their career during an abortive attempt to steal his mount. Later, Jawbreaker accidentally broke the neck of Heather Peachtree in an attempt to court her. She survived, but was permanently paralyzed.

Now the Peachtrees have sworn vengeance against the entire Flapjacks clan. Already, the violence has taken several lives on both sides. None of our heroes want to see halflings die (with the possible, occasional exception of Rush). It’s a terrible thing.

Now Aunty tells them that she is convinced that there is something else influencing the vendetta. Flapjacks efforts to negotiate a settlement were fruitless; their every overture was rebuffed. Certainly, under almost any circumstance, there should have been at least a nod towards diplomacy between the clans. Internecine halfling violence is an awful thing. Yet, nothing- and only two of the injured clan’s people were injured, and neither even killed!

Convinced, Aunty had set out to consult with an entity called Illurien of the Myriad Glimpses. She could be traded knowledge (in the form of rare books) for the answer to a single oracular question.

“What was your question?” asks Naomi, her chins jiggling.

“I asked, ‘What is the entity that has been encouraging the feud between the Flapjacks and the Peachtrees?’”

“What was the answer?”

“It was, ‘You ask about that which is not.’” 

“Some kind of riddle,” remarks Federico.

“Obviously,” nods Rush.

“So, what now?” wonders Queffe.

“Well,” Aunty Flapjacks says, “I suggest that you visit Illurien. But you have to bring books of sufficient worth to her!”

“We don’t have a bunch of spare books right now,” Nara points out.

“But I know where you can get some.” Aunty smiles broadly. “There’s a ruined, sunken city, mostly gone- but the library still has enough books that you could probably buy your way to a question from Illurien.” She frowns. “But be careful! There are a pair or immense, panther-like creatures with tentacles emerging from their shoulders that lair there. I snuck past them, but there are many of you, and I don’t know if you are stealthy as I am.”

“We can take the monsters,” Jawbreaker grunts. “No problem. Sounds like we have plan.”

“Well, I think it’s time to spring into action- right after elevensies,” declares Erasmuz. 

The party eats, and then begins to go towards the ruins wherein they will find their books. Erasmuz offers to _wind walk_ the party, then changes his mind. Then he changes his mind again, and offers to cast the spell, only to change his mind again.

Our heroes walk. They spend a night on the road, and Erasmuz debates casting _wind walk_ yet again on the morn, but our heroes continue to walk. The weather is bad; cold rain spatters down. Most of the party receives _endure elements_ spells, and even those who don’t are kept warm enough by the exertions of their journey. 

Soon, following Aunty’s directions, they come to a distinctive dimple in the land, and following it down to the center they see the collapsed remains of a few buidlings. In one place, the land is rent apart and an opening leads below. Our heroes enter, and find themselves in a passage formed by a layer of dirt and rock atop the remains of an old city. They begin exploring, still doing their best to follow Aunty’s directions. As they shuffle past a set of seriously damaged double doors, Rush pauses.

“I hear something.”

There is a low growl from the other side of the doorway.

With a yell, Rush pushes past the doorway.

_*Next Time:*_ Diplacer beast pack lords! Illurien! And our heroes go back to the beginning!

*The calcifying aura slowly turns you to stone as it does con damage to you.


----------



## the Jester

*CURRENT PARTY ROSTER*

Nara- female halfling cleric 5/prophet 7; LN
Erasmuz- male halfling wizard 1/psion 1/ranger 1/ex-monk 1/ur-priest 7; NE
Queffe- female halfling barbarian 1/fighter 4/dervish 3; CN
Rush- male human soulknife 11; N
Ari- male halfling druid 12; N
Federico- male kobold bard 7/sorcerer 3/jester 2; CG
Jawbreaker- male halfling barbarian ?/bear warrior ? (total level 11); CG
Naomi- female halfling psion 6/elementalist 6; LE


----------



## the Jester

The old stone door shudders open as Rush muscles his way through. On the other side is a large ruined gallery that serves as the home of a pair of enormous displacer beasts. Seeing them, our heroes hesitate long enough to pull weapons and for Federico to apply _mage armor_ to his cohort. Erasmuz, pretty much in the rear of the party, clambers down the hole leading to the doors and casts _shield of faithlessness_ on himself. 

Rush is the one of them that does not hesitate. Instead- pretty much as usual- he charges, rushing up to one of the pack lords and strikes it, unleashing his psychic strike and psionic weapon in a burst of mental energy accompanied by the distinctive smell of burning metal. 

“I don’t think we want them charging us,” Ari comments, and uses a _stone shape_ to form a barrier between the halflings and the displacer beasts. The beasts, however, seem to have decided to rip Rush to shreds, as he is the one so far bold enough to move in on them. Their tentacles flail at him with immense amounts of force. 

Nara says, “Here, let me see what I can do with this.” She casts _charm monster_ on the uninjured beast. Suddenly it whirls, screaming and hissing, and attacks its fellow! The two beasts flail madly at each other for a moment, while Jawbreaker and Queffe move in, flanking the one that remains hostile to them. Erasmuz contributes an _inflict serious wounds,_ and the beast screams a horrible angry scream again. Then, while its head it drawn back to strike again, Queffe draws her scimitar across its throat. Blood gushes all over her; she draws back a step.

The hostile displacer beast collapses.

The other one immediately turns, hissing and growling at the party. It is clear that it is not directing its anger at Nara, but that the others are fair game. Quickly, the prophetess steps to the front and tries to calm it. She tells the others, “Go get the books while I keep this thing happy!”

“We should just kill it,” grumbles Rush.

“No need,” Jawbreaker shakes his head. “We get books. That is what we are here for. Not to beat up kitty.”

The party gathers as many books as they can. They can just manage to carry all the remaining books that are at all legible. Clearly, the library that existed down here has had its share of looters over the years. “I hope that these are enough books for us to give to this entity of your aunt’s,” Queffe remarks to Federico.

“Me too!” the kobold replies.

***

Given that they are not _wind walking,_ it takes two days for the party to return to the halfling wagons that are their current temporary base of operations. During this time, Nara has an interesting prophetic dream. In it, she has a peach pie, but a section of it is rotten. She cuts it out and discards it. The rest of the pie is quite tasty. The party eats it, then continues adventuring. The years go by, and their adventures continue as the party grows older and older. And they never reach the Promised Land.

Then she is young again. The pie, with its rotten piece still in it, is before her. This time, instead of discarding the rotten piece, she casts _purify food and drink_ and heals the rotten piece. Then the party eats the pie, and their adventures continue- but only for a short time before they come to a gateway. Through the gate, Nara sees a beautiful meadow with a brook running through it. Trees with cobblers for fruit are spread throughout it; honeycomb adorns the trees. Bushes of bacon stand ready for the eating. The halflings step through, and the portal closes behind them. And Nara awakens. She thinks about her dream for a long time: it has the feel of a _foretelling_.*

They continue up to the mountaintop shrine of Illurien.

Now that Aunty has instructed them on how to conjure this strange entity, and informed them of the coin that they can use to bargain for answers- knowledge- they are prepared. Naomi calls to the wind, loudly: “Illurien, Illurien, Illurien!”

For a few moments, the only answer is the high, thin whistle of the wind. Then, with appalling speed, clouds rush in overhead. In only seconds, the sky over the peak goes from mostly clear to completely covered by dark storm clouds. In about a minute, fat, cold drops of rain begin to patter down.

“Interesting,” murmurs Ari. His voice is overpowered by a staggeringly loud peal of thunder, simultaneous with a bright flash of lightning. The rain is pounding down suddenly, out of nowhere. 

Then, in a rough twirl of wind and rain, something congeals before the party. Forming from whirling droplets, dancing like a Peshan sister, a slender female body, easily ten feet tall, forms. She is clad is robes of grey water. Her most striking feature, however, is her utter lack of features: she has no face, other than her vivid, sapphire-blue eyes. Rainwater whirls around her, spraying in all directions. With them, visions spray: those of our heroes who are too close to her suddenly are filled with strange images, fragments of knowledge and truths. It is staggering; the storm of visions is almost enough to stun our heroes. They begin to back off, keeping a respectful distance. 

_I AM ILLURIEN,_ everyone hears in their mind. _WHAT DO YOU OFFER AS A SACRIFICE?_

“We have come with books,” cries Erasmuz. “Old, obscure books! We offer you knowledge!”

Quickly, the party pours out the books. Illurien says nothing for a few moments, and then the powerful voice rings out telepathically. _THAT WILL SUFFICE. I WILL ANSWER A QUESTION FROM EACH OF YOU._

Immediately, Federico pipes up. “How can we reconcile with the Peachtrees?”

_UNTIL THE CYCLOPS LOSES THE JEWEL IN HIS EYE HE WILL WHISPER WITH A VOICE FORGOTTEN._

“Where do we find the cornbread we need to find the Promised Land?” asks Nara.

_BREAD MUST BE BROKEN AND OLD ENMITIES FORGIVEN BEFORE CORNBREAD COMES TO BAKE; THE SICKNESS MUST BE CUT OUT AND THE PEACH LEFT HALE AND WHOLE._

“These answers are cryptic, but I guess that’s what we get,” grumbles Erasmuz. “Hey, buddy, I know you told Aunty Flapjacks that she was ‘asking about what is not’ when you answered her question about what was encouraging the feud between the Flapjacks and the Peachtrees. How is this: _Where_ is the entity encouraging or exacerbating the feud?”

_YOU ASK ABOUT THAT WHICH IS NOT._

“Damn,” swears Erasmuz.

“It’s a riddle,” Rush grumbles. “Some kind of stupid riddle. I ask this instead: _Where is Benjy Peachtree?_”

_HE SITS NEXT TO HIS OWN BELLY, HIS OWN CORPSE, WHERE IT ALL BEGAN._

“I wonder if he’s undead,” Naomi murmurs thoughtfully. 

“It does not matter. We shall re-kill him if we must,” Rush snorts.

Ari asks, “Must we make peace with the Peachtrees?”

_ONLY IF YOU WISH TO TAKE IN AN ETERNAL SUPPLY OF BACON._

“This doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense,” muses Yip. “We are making some big assumptions here.” To Illurien, he calls, “_Is_ there an entity encouraging the feud?”

_AN ECHO, A MEMORY, A THOUGHT; FROM THE BEGINNING, TO THE END; THE TOLLING OF THE BELL RINGS IN THE MIND._

“Tolling of the bell...?” Federico’s brow furrows for a moment. Then, suddenly, he yelps, “Bellhold!”

“What?” asks Naomi.

“Bellhold!” repeats the kobold. “It’s where all of our adventures began- we had to commission a new bell for the annual halfling gathering, and while we were there- oh, it’s been so long!” He squeezes his eyes shut in concentration as he struggles to recall the details of his first adventure so long ago. “There was a stone!” he says. Excitement begins to run through his frame. His tail begins wagging furiously and his body starts to shake. “That’s right! And we had to destroy it somehow... there was a bell tower... the stone, hmm, I think it had some kind of mind control powers, didn’t it?” He looks around, but then he realizes that none of the halflings who were there at the time remain with the party. A sudden sadness washes over him for his lost friends- so many lost friends! From Coco to Trinia to Airhead Ed, from Brother He to Timothy to Mama Flapjacks herself... _At least Martini is still alive somewhere,_ he thinks sadly. _And Thelonious. And maybe Ed, who knows- though we lost her in that murky, memory-lost time when the mind flayers enslaved us._

“Then you think we need to go back to Bellhold?” asks Naomi. Federico nods.

“How far away is it?” wonders Erasmuz. “Should we _wind walk?_”

Federico nods. “Yeah, it’s far.” He shivers. “I don’t know if I have the strength to walk that far.”

“What, thirty yards?” Ari teases.

***

The next night, at dark, Erasmuz casts a _wind walk_ that encompasses the entire party. Slowly they shift into a vaporous form, and then with a roar, they race back towards the beginning. A couple of hours and they are there: Bellhold. The small town has a large central square centered on a statue of a group of halflings and their kobold companion. All around the square are businesses, most of them closed for the night, but a tavern called the Bell and Clapper remains open, with bright light and music pouring out of the open windows. Despite the chill of the night, the tavern has abundant warmth. When our heroes enter, Federico is instantly recognized, but the others are initially taken as hangers-on and frauds wanting to live off of the legacy of the halflings who were here so long ago. 

Still, it only takes a few minutes to find out what the party needs to know. A one-eyed halfling came through town about a year previous. “He went up to the Old Mines up on the Steeple and never came back down, far as I know,” the bartender says. “Frankly, I always just assumed that he got nabbed by goblins; they’re pretty prevalent around here.”

“What’s the Steeple?” asks Federico.

“Steeple Mountain. When you’re outside, you can’t miss it: it’s the tallest mountain right near town. it’s a real piece of work. There’s only one trail up it, far as I know, and the rest of it’s damn near unclimbable. The mines are up there.”

“Thanks for your help.” Federico tosses him a platinum piece.

The party exits the tavern, resumes their _wind walk_ form, and in only a few minutes they have flown up the trail, up the side of the mountain, and to the gaping opening of the old mine. They resume their physical forms and pause for a moment while Nara _scries_ Benjy Peachtree.

And gasps. 

She sees him- gaunt, slack-jawed and drooling. He is strapped into some sort of metal and crystal apparatus. Wires run under the eye patch that covers the ruined eye that Airhead Ed long ago shot out, and brilliant blue light blazes from beneath it. He is not moving. He is somewhere underground, and some sort of large reptilian corpse lies indistinct in the background.

“Right,” she says, “there is _definitely_ something influencing Benjy.” She stares at the rest of the party with a look of utter abject horror on her face. “He looks like he is starving.”

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes enter the old mines in the hopes of finding Benjy Peachtree!


*Nara is a prophet (a homebrewed Cydran prestige class). I am not 100% positive, but I think that this is the first time her _foretelling_ ability has come into play- it basically has a 20% chance/month of giving her a cryptic, foreshadowing kind of dream.


----------



## the Jester

“I think we should go back to Bellhold and rest first,” Ari suggests abruptly.* “I feel on the verge of an epiphany. I just need to sleep on it.”

“Um, okay,” sighs Queffe. “Just tell me that you’ll cast _wind walk_ again tomorrow,” she says to Erasmuz.

“Sure, buddy!” he replies cheerfully.** 

The party _wind walks_ back to Bellhold and secures lodging at the Bell and Clapper. They raise quite a stir yet again in the little town, but retire before it grows too late. 

In the morning, they find Ari dead.

His room is a bloody mess. Both he and his dire wolf companion have been assassinated in their sleep. Even the keen senses of the wolf were insufficient to save them.

“That’s horrible!” cries Nara.

“Is- is there anything you can do?” Queffe chokes out. 

“Yes,” Nara and Erasmuz reply simultaneously. 

***

It is expensive to accumulate the diamonds for a _raise dead,_ but our heroes do it. Ari’s eyes flutter and his pale lips twitch. Suddenly the corpse draws in a shuddering breath and its eyes snap open.

Ari groans, “What happened?” He sits up. His head is spinning. 

“You were assassinated,” Nara tells him grimly.

“What?” the druid explodes. His eyes take in the slaughtered form of his animal companion. “NO! Who did this?” he demands.

“We don’t know yet,” Erasmuz pipes up. 

“Let’s find out,” Ari says angrily. Nara begins the process of healing him.

***

After Ari recuperates enough to fight the party begins tracking his assailant. For someone as skilled at tracking as the druid is, it is child’s play to find the trail and follow it- especially since he can employ the sharp nose of a bloodhound, the magical divining abilities of his friend Nara (who is, after all, a prophet) and the reputation of his friend Federico and the Flapjacks clan. The combination means that, slightly after noon, our heroes approach a two-storey home. They approach; Ari moves to the window, while Nara and the others go to the front door. She tries the door, but it’s locked. She is about to tell the others this when she hears a wild cry from within the building and the sound of the window shattering as someone inside charges Ari, stabbing him with a rapier to deadly effect and breaking his collarbone. 

“You again!” cries the rapier-wielder.

Ari can see the person behind the pointy thing currently lodged in the white-hot pain part of his shoulder. It’s an elf, with his teeth filed to sharp points. He is dressed somewhat savagely. He wears no armor, but bears a hide-covered wooden shield. Several amulets dangle from around his neck; most are primitive-looking, with bits of bone, rock, horn and such on simply leather thongs. One is more noteworthy, being bronze edged with jet. _He looks like a cannabix!_ Ari realizes with a shiver.*** Then there’s another flash of pain as the rapier withdraws from his bone. The druid grits his teeth against the pain and casts _baleful polymorph,_ but the assassin resists his spell, gnashing his teeth at Ari.

Theevis Stingblade (our assassin’s name) casts a spell that clinches it, as far as Ari is concerned. Called _foul cloud,_ it is unique to cannabix. The air is tainted by a strange, foul brown mist. Queffe begins to cough and wheeze as the vapors surround her, instantly becoming fatigued. Quickly, Ari backs away and casts _cure moderate wounds_ on his shoulder. _I don’t think I want to get caught in that cloud,_ he thinks.

Nara and Erasmuz try to disable the assassin, using _impeding permission_ and _hold person_ respectively, but Theevis seems to have a formidable will. He grins ferociously as he throws off their attempts to lay mental chains on him. He leans forward and pricks Erasmuz with his rapier, then laughs maliciously.

“Oh yeah?” Erasmuz sneers. He reaches out with his ur-priest powers, stealing divine energy from the gods, and casts _inflict critical wounds_. He thrusts his hand forward and touches Theevis, but the assassin resists the worst of the spell. 

Theevis Stingblade continues whirling from one enemy to another, thrusting and parrying. Suddenly, the bronze amulet that he is wearing flashes and cracks and a strange, centipede-like being with a disturbingly human face appears. It leaps and tumbles over the top of Queffe and Erasmuz. It cartwheels over and attempts to invoke some kind of magical ability, but the presence of Queffe nearby apparently disconcerts it, for the monster fails to manifest its power.

Ari shifts into eagle form to heal some more, then _calls lightning_ down on the enemy as Erasmuz begins to summon some aid of his own. Nara curses as the assassin shrugs off a _charm monster._ “We can’t get his mind,” she laments.

“That’s right!” Theevis sneers, and stabs Nara twice, hitting her so hard that she’s staggered! Meanwhile, the centipede-monster exudes some sort of nasty, oily substance onto the ground and into the air around it. It slithers around, looking for a target to bite, but ends up biting itself by accident. Which is good, since our heroes have not hurt it yet.

Meanwhile, Erasmuz finishes his summons. Three large air elementals whir into existence! Immediately, they move to attack the assassin. Erasmuz cackles gleefully at the cannabix’ sudden distress. But then Theevis turns invisible, vanishing even more quickly than Erasmuz’ grin. The ur-priest’s eyes go left, then right, then left, looking for any sign of the assassin. 

Suddenly, the centipede-like thing appears right next to Erasmuz, rearing up before him! “Oh,” Erasmuz says, “surely, great demon, you will spare me, for we share the same moral perspective! I surrender to you,” he lies.

Queffe tumbles towards the centipede, but the invisible assassin suddenly reappears as his rapier jabs into Queffe! Then Theevis quickly spins and begins jabbing at Erasmuz.

“Hey, I surrendered!” the ur-priest cries out. The elf laughs, and Erasmuz frowns. “Fine!” he says angrily. “If you’re going to be that way about it...” He concentrates, casting a deadly spell indeed: _slay living._ He reaches out and touches Theevis on the arm. 

The assassin’s eyes widen in horror. He gasps. “No,” he croaks, and falls over dead.

The centipede grins with its human-like face. Then it laughs- and then it _teleports_ away.

“Where’d it go?” cries Nara.

“If it was summoned, it won’t last long,” Ari answers. “It probably doesn’t matter.”

“What if it wasn’t summoned? What if it was called?” Erasmuz sighs. “It could stick around for a while, in that case.”

Our heroes mull this over for a few minutes. “Well, in any event, it doesn’t seem to be coming back right now,” Queffe comments. “So let’s continue on with our mission here.”

“Well, he’s dead,” Ari states. “It’ll be kind of hard to question him now.”

“Not really,” Erasmuz smirks. Nara nods agreement.

***

A search of the assassin with _detect magic_ running turns up a few magic items: his bracers, cloak, rapier, shield and ring. The amulet no longer radiates magic, and it has turned a foul brown color and partially melted. The party hypothesizes that it may have been a single-use item of some kind, or one that the assassin had just expended the last charge from. Since the centipede monster still hasn’t returned, the group stops to think about things for a few moments, and Ari decides to remain in the house for a while, using his _one thousand faces_ ability to impersonate the assassin.

“Why?” asks Nara.

“To find out who hired him.”

“We already know,” Erasmuz says, “don’t we? The Peachtrees?”

Ari stops and sighs. “Of course, you’re right.”

“But maybe we can find out more when we question his head,” Nara adds.

***

The prophet Nara lets her mind settle into a profound equilibrium. There is nothing within; there is nothing without. Her mind is empty. And then it reaches out through the cosmic void- and touches her goddess’ mind.

Nara _communes:_

_Who hired the assassin?_ Yes or no.
_Did Benjy Peachtree hire the assassin?_ Yes.
_Is Benjy Peachtree in Steeple Mountain?_ Yes.
_Does the assassin have more loot?_ Yes.
_Does Benjy know where he left it?_ No.
_Is this guy a member of the Assassins’ Guild?_ Yes.
_Does our innkeeper know how to get in touch with them?_ No.
_Will Benjy wield magic against us should we encounter him?_ No.
_How about mind powers?_ No. (Nara gets the sense that this is not the whole story.)
_Is Benjy Peachtree under the direct influence of another creature or entity?_ No.
_Is there anyone else hired to assassinate us?_ Not presently.
_Show me an image of Benjy’s contract?_ Yes or no.

When she comes out of her trance, Nara relates what she has learned. She then attempts a _speak with dead,_ but even with the assassin dead, his will is too strong to interrogate. Nara frowns, but then shrugs. “We’ll just have to do this the hard way,” she sighs.

Erasmuz casts _wind walk_ and our heroes return to the entrance to the old mine.

_*Next Time:*_ Into the mines! No, really! I mean it this time!


*I’d just given xps, and Ari had leveled to 13th. However, I generally rule that you have to rest before you get all your level up stuff.

**I’d just like to remind everyone that Erasmuz basically looks like a halfling Anton LaVey. (Which is who the picture of the ur-priest in Complete Divine is modeled after, I am convinced.) _“Sure, buddy!” he replies cheerfully,_ indeed.

***The Cannabix are a savage religion that fears nature; a cannabix makes sacrifices to the Sea, Sky and Land to propitiate them in order to avoid various disasters. The sacrifices are living things, and the cannabix eats their hearts in order to gain a portion of their power (in the form of ability score increases). Cannabix are a homebrewed Cydran base class, based on a Cydran 2e specialty priest type.


----------



## Krud

So did Ari level and then die and lose that level due to raise dead?


----------



## the Jester

Krud said:
			
		

> So did Ari level and then die and lose that level due to raise dead?




More or less... though I'm using a "permanent negative level til you have enough xp to be your level again" variant rather than actual level loss.


----------



## the Jester

The party bursts into the mines violently, tearing into the goblins that guard the way ferociously. The goblins scream and fall back, and as the party presses forward- four nauseating, disgusting masses flow down from the ceiling above. 

“What the hell are those??” exclaims Nara.

The forms are ooze-like, the brown-green shade of sewage gone wrong. Within the masses of the creatures are a multitude of angry-looking, red eyes. 

_Gong!_ One of the goblins strikes a gong and screams at his fellows, in the Goblin tongue, to fall back. Those of our heroes who speak Goblin think, ironically enough, that this shows remarkable discipline for these goblins.

The party turns to deal with what is apparently the real threat- the strange, disgusting, sewage ooze things. Nara quickly invokes _freedom of movement_ on herself, while Queffe throws herself aside to avoid a deadly thrown javelin from one of the retreating goblins. Ari drops a _flame strike_ on the retreating goblins, blowing several of them to bits, and then he begins moving forward. The eye-filled ooze things flow forward, lashing out with pseudopodia at both Nara and Queffe. Each of the two of them suffers a minor blow, but although the wound is relatively minor, both of them are left coated in a thick, viscous slime. Suddenly it starts to animate, flailing at them with more tendrils of nastiness!

“I don’t think I like these things, buddies,” Erasmuz announces, and begins a summoning spell. A few seconds later, several fire elementals appear and set to work, engaging the sick-smelling creatures. The ur-priest smirks and casts _shield of faithlessness_. Nara, meanwhile, _timeslips_ away, the better to deal with the slimy coating that is flailing at her. 

But the rest of our heroes, along with the fire elementals, are doing profound damage to the nasty enemies. The semi-fluid creatures are being torn apart and burned to death. They prove able to move effortlessly through and around our heroes, but there is not enough time or space for them to truly get away, and the fire elementals pursue them relentlessly. Soon the battle is over.

“The goblins got away,” remarks Ari. “And they sounded a gong. It’s safe to assume that Benjy knows that we’re coming.”

“Remember,” Nara cautions the others, “we don’t want to hurt any halflings if we can help it. Remember my vision of the pie- I think we need to make peace with the Peachtrees in order to make sure that we can reach the Promised Land. The vendetta between them and the Flapjacks must end.”

“Sure, buddy,” replies Erasmuz with a grin. “Now let’s get going.”

The party advances through a large old cave. Puddles of slime or ooze cover the floor. Small stalactites hang from the 15 foot tall ceiling. The group hurries across; there is no sign of the bandits. On the opposite side, they find a four-way intersection. For some reason, they go right (‘left to live’ is their usual motto). After about 20’, the hall they are following opens up into a rough-hewn room about 60’ on a side that seems to be serving as a goblin barracks. Naturally, there are about twenty goblins in there. 

“GET THEM!!” shouts Nara. She casts _magic vestment_ on her shield and begins moving up. Yip bounces to the front of the party and readies himself for the approach of a goblin. The goblins begin to move forward, and the little kobold slides forward and smacks one of them in the head so hard that the goblin collapses onto the ground! Federico drops a second one with a bolt from his crossbow, and then the goblins and the party are really mixing it up. Queffe- a dervish- really has a chance to shine, using her dervish dance to full effect. She slices one goblin across the chest and drops it, then decapitates another and finally cuts another’s arm off. Screaming, it dies. 

Erasmuz, meanwhile, casts _righteous might_ and swells in size until he is as tall as a human! Then he begins punching, drawing on his old monk training from before he turned away from Law. A flurry of blows, and two more goblins fall. 

Jawbreaker cleaves left and right with his axe, dropping one, then another, then another goblin.

The goblins try to rally. Several of them are sergeants, but it isn’t enough. One or two blows land on our heroes, but they do not do nearly enough damage to stop the Halfling Action Militia from overwhelming the goblin resistance. In just under a minute, the fight is over.*

Back to the four-way intersection they go, as there are no further passages out of here; and they take the next direction over. This proves to be a long passage, with many side passages running off of it.

“These are mines,” Federico says happily. He is wagging his tail. 

The passage ends in a door. However, it proves to be locked. Strangely, for a party composed almost entirely of halflings, there is no rogue in the group, so instead of picking the lock, they open the door the Jawbreaker way. The Chief throws himself against the door with all his might and bursts it open. The large room revealed is marked with scorches all over it. Rubble is scattered throughout the room. The walls have carvings depicting tribute being paid to some kind of dragon or lizard god; some of these have been roughly defaced, and many now show scorch marks. Dog turds that smolder like coals are scattered here and there throughout the room. And the source of those turds is here too- in the form of a pack of eight hell hounds, two of which are particularly large and dangerous-looking. Immediately they begin barking and charge forward, breathing fire. 

Nara trips over her own feet and falls prone. Embarrassed, she casts _sound burst_ and manages to stun almost all of the hounds! Grinning shakily, she struggles up to her feet. 

One of the huge hounds, and one of the smaller ones as well, breathes fire on the party. It could be worse, but it isn’t very nice. Erasmuz casts _resist fire_ while Federico _magic missiles_ one of the wounded hounds.

As the hounds start to shrug off the stunning effects of her _sound burst,_ Nara casts another one, stunning most of them again! Our heroes tear into them, with Jawbreaker, Erasmuz, Nara, Yip and Queffe combining their efforts to tear the hell hound pack apart. Even the two larger hounds are no match for the power of H.A.M.! Finally, Jawbreaker and Erasmuz’ _spiritual weapon_ pound the last two hounds down, and our heroes set about quickly healing their wounds 

Three exits emerge from the large chamber, other than the shattered door that Jawbreaker broke down. Our heroes start with the one to the left of the door, but find that it peters out pretty quickly; it is simply another mining shaft. The party returns to the large room and moves to the next exit, which leads them around a left turn and into another large chamber with slimy puddles all over the floor. A table with a few goblins gambling at it is in the center of the chamber; they jump up to fight, only to be cut down with little effort by our heroes. One goblin survives, caught by a _charm monster_ spell cast by Nara. The halflings do take note of the fact that one of the goblins in the room was much tougher than either the standard goblins or the goblin sergeants that the party has already encountered.

Our heroes thus sit down to a snack with the goblin. He proves stupid and fairly useless, so they let him go and _wind walk_ out to rest. 

_*Next Time:*_ Back into the depths of the old mines, in pursuit of Benjy Peachtree- our heroes find a PEACH GOLEM!! _Who will eat whom??_

*Yep, 9 round combat.


----------



## the Jester

*Up the Slither-Ramp*

_*11/13/372 O.L.G., 10 a.m., the old mines inside Steeple Mountain*_

Our heroes return to the guts of Steeple Mountain. They go back to the hell hound kennel (which, you recall, still has one unexplored exit leading from it). Just to be safe, they return to the goblin guard room that they last fought in and search for secret doors, but none turn up. Then they return to the kennel and take the unexplored path. It winds and branches into more mine shafts. Federico groans, “This could take forever.” His tail tucks itself between his legs. They proceed, following the left wall. Shortly, they come around a corner into a lit room. The entire far wall is hewn into an immense, 80’ wide statue of a dagon, rearing up, wings spread, staring down at all in the room. Its eyes have been pried out. In front of it is a gigantic copper bowl, easily 10’ across at the rim and about 8’ high. A great, leaping fire is in the bowl, giving off the light that fills the room. The walls bear intricate carvings. Something in the room smells _delicious._ Like peaches.

A huge figure turns ponderously around to face the party. 

It smells _so tasty..._

It is about ten feet high, and as broad (proportionally) as a dwarf. Yet it is orange and moist-looking and sugary sweet.

“It’s a peach golem!” shouts Ari. He steps to the fore of the party and blasts it with a _flame strike_, but to his surprise, the only effect is to make it smell even tastier. The scent is quite distracting, but all of our heroes are able to focus past it, ignoring what might otherwise be unforunate effects. 

Rush steps forward, activating his _mind blade._ Yip flips past him and lands a solid punch on the peach creature, leaving an indentation in it that slowly starts to leak what looks like peach syrup. 

“Be careful!” warns Yip, struggling for a second before pulling his fist away from it. “It’s sticky!”

“That’s perfect!” replies Erasmuz. He pulls out his harpoon. “I don’t care if it gets stuck to this!” He throws- and misses. Shaking his head and clucking his tongue, he reels the harpoon back in for another try. 

Towards the back of the party, Ari calls up a great snake to attack the golem. It appears and immediately moves in, curling around the golem only to get stuck to it! Since it is a constrictor, it seems okay with this, and it begins to crush the peach golem. Syrup starts leaking out all over the snake. 

Rush is right on the kobold’s heels. He ignores Yip’s warning, but to his dismay, his _mind blade_ sticks to the creature!* He lets go and steps away, and the blade dissipates, but the monster oozes towards him, trying to engulf him! He jumps back, and it cannot really pursue because of the snake. 

“That smells so tasty,” Federico sighs aloud, then titters. He fires his crossbow and reloads, then moves to a better position to shoot again. He notes several spells fail to have any effect upon the golem. “Its a golem!” he shouts. “They’re usually immune to most magic- but one or two spells will affect them! If we could figure out what, and what they would do to it-“

“Bah!” Rush interrupts disdainfully. “We kill it the old-fashioned way!” This time, when he forms his _mind blade,_ he forms _two_ of them- dagger sized- and he steps up and attacks like mad, hoping to hold on to at least _one_ of his _mind blades_. Though he loses both blades by the time he is done, he lands several solid blows against the monster. 

The peach golem vomits forth a mass of sweet-smelling, steaming hot peach-derived gelatinous stuff at Rush, but he leaps aside and it misses him, splattering against the wall behind him in a sticky explosion. Then it starts trying to squeeze the life out of the snake, which is crushing it badly. Chunks of peach are falling out of its body, as well as an ever-widening pool of syrup. The smell is maddeningly delicious. Clearly, the golem is in bad shape. Erasmuz hurls his harpoon again, and this time it is enough to slay the peach monster! It shakes, shudders, spills more peaches, and collapses. 

Immediately, Erasmuz sits down. “Who wants some peach golem?”

Federico joins him eagerly.

“No thanks,” Ari replies. “I don’t trust it.”

“Are you kidding? The Peachtrees must have made this. It’ll be delicious!”

The druid shrugs. “Whatever. No thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

***

Closer examination of the carvings on the wall show a multitude of scenes on individual panels. In every panel, the dragon that used to terrorize the nearby town of Bellhold is shown as a benevolent father, overseeing the mining operation and rewarding the faithful. In payment, many offerings are made to the dragon, all put into or near the huge copper bowl. For some reason, one of the panels shows _two_ dragons accepting offerings. Beneath it is an inscription: _Worship and praise him, for he is a just and true God. Touch him only with thine thoughts, for he shall not be sullied by thy earthy hand. View him only with thine eyes, if we wish not to face him in judgment alone. His wrath is mighty, and while he descends from the mountaintop to praise, also does he punish the lazy and untrue._

“Interesting,” remarks Yip. Rush gives him a funny look. 

“Copperdeath, that was his name,” Federico calls from around a mouthful of peach cobbler style golem. “Ohh, I’m so full.” He sighs and stands up and stretches. 

“Let us go,” Rush urges. “I wish to kill things, to lessen my debt to you.”

“Remember,” Federico declares, “_no killing halflings._”

“Not you,” nods the soulknife.

“Not _any,_” Federico insists. “We need to patch things up with the Peachtrees, not give them further cause to hate us.”

Rush shrugs.

Federico sighs. 

***

There are three exits from the room, but all lead to twisting mine shafts. They follow several of these, only to find that they intersect with the passages leading from the kennel to the peach golem room. They have gone in a circle. 

They return ot the peach golem chamber and consider their options. Federico casts _detect secret doors_, and to his delight, he detects one! “It’s behind that dragon statue,” he moans.

The party spends some time trying to figure out how to get the humungous statue to move, but they can’t find any kind of mechanism or trigger. After a while, they settle on waiting until after they rest so that Ari can cast _stone shape._ And then, since they seem to have run out of other places to explore, they settle in to camp.

***

_Something_ has felt them in the twisting recesses of the mine tunnels. 

For now, it waits. It can feel the ground thrumming beneath their feet as they set their camp up. And it can feel the goblins making preparations against them. It will let the goblins try first. 

If they fail, it will destroy them all.

The horrible thing gurgles and spurts up a mass of foul slime that slops back down onto it pustulent surface. 

It will sacrifice them, in the name of _Juiblex._

***

_*11/14/372 O.L.G., 8:30 a.m.*_

Our heroes wake, eat breakfast, limber up and then move over to the statue. Ari applies his druidical magic and _stone shapes_ an opening in the dragon statue’s wing, where the secret door is concealed. Then it is simply enough to open the passage beyond, which is a 20’ wide, damp hallway that curves off to the left and upward. The sound of falling water is somewhere up ahead, around the corner. An empty copper bathtub is pushed roughly against one wall. The floor is covered in tarnished green sheets of copper. 

The party proceeds around the corner- and runs into a goblin barricade.

Ten goblins, one of them better-equipped than the rest, wait behind a mass of wood and stone piled high. Behind it they have built a ramp, and on this ramp is a barrel of oil, which they forthwith light and lever up and over the barrier at the party. 

They don’t have a chance.

Our heroes dodge the oil and slay or drive away the goblins in only a few moments. They seemed to be guarding the base of the great slither-ramp that spirals in an ascent around a falling shaft of water. The ground is slick and the air is full of mist, but at least there is light: the water itself glows. 

As the party ascends the ramp, they are opposed by more groups of goblins. Erasmuz laughs madly, animating their own dead and having them intercept the barrels of oil with their bodies for the next two groups. The third, final band guarding the ramp is a little stronger than the others, but even they fall quickly and easily to the party (this time Erasmuz himself intercepts the oil barrel, under the influence of a _resist fire_ spell).

They step out above, in a nearly circular room about 60’ in diameter. A slice of it is cut into a passageway leading further into the mountain. 

“Let’s hope we don’t have to kill too many more goblins,” sighs Ari.

“Yes,” Rush replies, “they are too easy to kill.”

“Hey, buddies, look!” Erasmuz points. The hallway is well-lit by the glowing water behind them; at its end, some 70’ away, there is a wide window into another space. From here, he cannot see into it. 

*** 

Behind them, dark amusement rises in the burbling, oozing creature stalking them. It begins to move quickly, ascending the last couple of circuits around the ramp and following the vibrations of the party’s movements. _The goblins have failed. Now it is _my_ turn._

It feels the intruders step off of the ramp and into the hallway. They hesitate- probably having seen the window at the end of the hallway. The creatures surges forward like a wave of effluvia, rushing up the last curl of the slither-ramp with sinister speed.

Our heroes are just beginning to advance down the hallway when a terrific stench, like a mix of vegetation, disease and acid fumes, hits them from the direction of the slither-ramp, and they turn as one to see what the hell that is all about. Rising like a tidal wave of sewage is a gargantuan mass of nauseating slime, aswim with baleful crimson eyes. 

And the wave crashes down on them.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes against the nasty sludge-monster of Juiblex!

*I know some people might be going “huh?” here, but yes, a _mind blade_ is a physical object (“semi-solid”). We spent a few minutes looking this up during the peach golem fight to check, and both Rush’s player and myself as the dm agreed that it looked like it would be a solid enough object to get stuck, since it can be broken.



			
				SRD said:
			
		

> The blade can be broken (it has hardness 10 and 10 hit points); however, a soulknife can simply create another on his next move action. The moment he relinquishes his grip on his blade, it dissipates (unless he intends to throw it; see below).


----------



## Krud

Poor PCs, spending resources for no xp   

Well that slime thing should be worth something


----------



## the Jester

Krud said:
			
		

> Poor PCs, spending resources for no xp




  Hey, the lower-level guys got a pittance out of the mid-level goblins, and some of the gobbos were as high as CR 9 or 10! 



			
				Krud said:
			
		

> Well that slime thing should be worth something




Ooooh yes.


----------



## the Jester

*KABLOOSH!!!*

A tsunami of foetid filth rushes up to- and then breaks upon- our heroes. It burbles and squirts effluvia as it thunders forward, slamming into all of them, knocking Nara and Erasmuz from their feet and leaving Naomi coated in disgusting, reeking slime that immediately sprouts tentacles and begins attacking her. 

“Not this again!” she cries.

Her _fire retort_ triggers, blasting out at the monstrous wave of gelatinous sludge as it rushes over and past the party. The flames lick out, but they have no obvious effect. 

“Gahh!” cries Nara. “This is _disgusting!!_” She casts _freedom of movement,_ hoping to keep herself from becoming engulfed and swept away by the horrific ooze (? or whatever it is). Three baleful red eyes glare from within the massive, gelatinous creature. It swings around to make another pass at the party. 

“By the gods!” Erasmuz cries in horror. “This thing is gross!” Unable to withstand the stench of the monster, he turns and flees down the hallway, struggling to keep his gorge from rising into his throat and out his mouth. _But if I vomit on myself,_ he thinks, _at least I’ll smell better than I do covered in that thing!_

Naomi, meanwhile, is under a terrific assault from the tentacles that have grown from the slime coating her body. She staggers as she is struck over and over, but her _energy retort_ fires back, and soon the sludge upon her has burned to ash and cracked bits of solid waste. She tries to get away from the monster, but it smacks her in the face as she moves, dealing another mighty blow to her! She staggers for a moment, tasting blood, and cries out. When her mouth falls open, three shattered teeth- her front teeth- fall free from it! Blood pours down her face, and she gasps in pain. 

Chief Jawbreaker attacks, but he can’t seem to do significant damage to it. His axe cleaves through its watery substance easily enough, but barely does any damage. He growls angrily, but when the bright flash of a _flame strike_ cast by Nara comes down and burns away a sizeable chunk of the monster, he nods in satisfaction. Even if his blade won’t do the trick, his companions can, and he can run interference for them, if nothing else. 

And maybe if he hits it _just a little harder..._

The monster turns its attention on the Chief, since he is standing in its way, and begins to bludgeon him mercilessly. Jawbreaker just leans into it stoically, wrinkling his nose at the rank stench rising from it. He can take it.

Naomi is in substantially worse shape, and both Nara (using a wand) and Erasmuz move to heal her. As they do, Naomi unleashes a _fire wave_ at the churning, burbling monstrosity. There is another sizzle of cooking waste and filth; even Naomi nearyly throws up from the strength of it. But this time, the immense wave of filth rears back, emitting a strange, whistling shriek, and then collapses into a burning pile of disgusting waste.

“Is it dead?” cries Erasmuz, from down the hallway. 

“Yeah,” Nara calls back. The ur-priest slinks back to the others, and the party spends a few minutes tending wounds before continuing onward.

70’ from the entryway, where the party had thought it ended, the wide hallway turns. At the elbow, however, is what looks like a window of thick glass, behind which is visible another chamber. That chamber appears empty of obvious items of interest, whereas the passage continues along past the turn, ascending at an angle of about 15 degrees. Moreover, the passage beyond the turn has a row of stone statues of warriors running down each side of it, leaving only a narrow corridor for the party to walk down. Some of the statues seem damaged or are destroyed.

After our heroes have a quick snack, they proceed, Jawbreaker leading the way.

About halfway down the hallway, he steps on a pressure plate. There is a subtle _click,_ followed by a much more obvious- a much more ominous, and extremely LOUD- rumble. Or, rather, a RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE _*Crash*_ *RUMBLERUMBLERUMBLE*, as a huge ball hewn from stone rolls out of the celing, crashes down to the floor, and begins rolling pell-mell down the sloping passageway at our heroes, smashing some of the statues as it comes. 

Erasmuz dives to the very corner of the room, ducking behing one of the statues, and manages to evade the boulder. Likewise, Nara slips forward in time a few seconds, and avoids the boulder that way. The others are less fortunate, being plowed through by the massive round stone. Tough as they are, nobody dies; but as they begin to gather their wits about them to try to heal up a little, a flickering light from down the hall alerts them that something is coming- no doubt drawn by the noise.

Something oozey... something on fire. 

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes are forced to fight other halflings!!


----------



## the Jester

*Against Other Halflings!*

“Look out!” burbles Naomi. 

A strange, acrid stench rises from the burning, oozing _thing_ that is flowing down the statue-lined hallway towards our heroes. Ari struggles up to his feet and casts a _mass cure light wounds_ to reinvigorate the party after their boulder-battering, and Rush moves to the front of the party to intercept the burning ooze. Immediately, it extends a greedy pseudopod towards him, grasping for him, but he parries with his _mind blade_ and leaps away. He throws his _mind blade_ at it, and the psychic weapon sinks deep into the ooze. It quivers, and a bright orange, burning fluid begins to leak out from where Rush’s blade struck it. 

“It can be hurt,” he reports to the others.

Naomi unleashes a _cold energy bolt_ at it, and Jawbreaker fires his bow. Erasmuz begins summoning allies from another plane, and Ari begins summoning allies from nature. 

Then the ooze does something unexpected, and Rush warns, “It just tried to use some kind of power on my mind!”

“Uh-oh,” mutters Nara. “It’s probably not actually mindless, then.” She begins a summons of her own.

The creature flows forward and grabs onto Rush, burning him and trying to hold him. He struggles terrifically, but it is larger and stronger than him, and it overbears him. “Aargh!” he cries, as the thing burns and crushes him.

Earth elementals begin to appear, responding to the summoning spells. First a huge one, then several more of various sizes. They pound at the ooze, and Rush manages to take advantage of the situation to break free! He creates another _mind blade_ and hacks viciously at the ooze again, dealing it another incredible blow, before falling back to let the earth elementals finish the work. 

The party draws back and assesses their position. They are wounded and low on spells, especially healing. The logical choice is to retreat and rest, so they resume their _wind walk_ forms and fly quickly back and out of the place, seeking a small copse of trees a dozen miles away to set up camp within. Ari casts a _plant growth_ spell to ensure that their cover is improved, and Naomi starts rummaging for ingredients to cook dinner with. 

“Is that good cheese or bad meat?” she mutters, her nostrils flaring. “Oh, it’s just me, never mind!”

***

_*11/15/372 O.L.G., 9 a.m.*_

After breakfast, it’s back into _wind walk_ form and away towards Steeple Mountain again. While they are _wind walking,_ Naomi farts and giggles, “That’s a chunderclap.”

“Thankfully, we’re moving very quickly,” Ari retorts.

Back into the mountain. Back into solid form. Our heroes advance up the statue-lined hallway very carefully, but no new boulder has been set. At the far end of the hall, they come out into a very large chamber. Faint light is coming from around the corner to the northeast. On one side of the hewn cavern is a strange, 10’ tall... dollhouse?... complete with an overhanging roof. There don’t appear to be any doors or windows into it. On top of the roof is what appears to be a large handle.

“What the hell?” wonders Nara.

“Voices!” warns Erasmuz in a hushed voice.

Indeed: a troupe of goblins comes round the corner!

Naomi blasts them with a _fireball,_ killing most of them.

Among the screams of pain, though, come the shouts of voices issuing commands from further around the corner- and one of the voices is, quite clearly, that of a halfling. 

There were initially almost two dozen goblins. Naomi’s spell destroyed half a dozen. Nara follows up with a _sound burst,_ but to her surprise, the goblin she blasts remains on his feet. Then he charges her- and hits! The damage is minimal, but she revises her opinion of this goblin. 

Halflings come into view, and although our heroes don’t initially know their names, there is no reason why _we_ can’t.

The halfling in the apron with the rolling pin is Master Chef Baird Peachtree. He is actually Benjy Peachtree’s great uncle. His daughter Taylee is here, too; she’s the one that nobody sees, because she’s hiding in the shadows. The guy with the morningstar and full plate is her boyfriend, Banjo Hodiddly. Finally, Benjy’s little sister Sarsaparilla is the one with the greatsword and breastplate. 

“Remember, we don’t want to hurt them!” shouts Naomi.

“Too late for that,” Baird Peachtree says grimly. With a gesture, he casts _spike stones_ to impede our heroes’ progress!

With that, the battle is joined. Goblins and halflings alike assault our heroes, and for a few moments they are sorely pressed.

But then Nara casts _impeding permission_ on Sarsaparilla and refuses to allow her to attack. But she does deign to allow the halfling to retreat. This shifts the balance somewhat in the favor of our heroes. And the goblins are a comedy of errors, missing their attacks on our heroes more than they should. One of them even shoots himself in the foot. 

The enemy halflings- whom our heroes would really prefer to avoid killing- are another story. Baird blasts Erasmuz and Nara with a _flame strike_, and Taylee emerges from the shadows to attack Nara as well. But fortunately, the prophet is just beginning to move as she does so, so Taylee’s blow misses. 

“You fools!” cries Banjo. “You must surrender! This must, must not!!” He seems strangely anguished. He casts _hold person_ on Erasmuz, but the ur-priest’s will is nigh-unbreakable. 

Naomi’s _energy retorts_ spark out as the goblins throw javelins at her, slaying more of them. She grins and _suggests_ to the enemy halflings that they surrender.

With a groan, Banjo throws down his morningstar with a groan. Taylee yields as well. 

Baird Peachtree immediately begins a retreat. “Hold them off!” he shouts to the goblins. He shoots Sarsaparilla a look, and she begins to withdraw as well. The two of them vanish back around the corner.

The hapless goblins are left to oppose the fury of the party. Several of them turn and flee. The rest fall in short order. 

Our heroes turn to their prisoners. Banjo seems very oddly distracted. 

“Well,” Naomi says, “why don’t we talk?”

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes find Benjy Peachtree at last!


----------



## the Jester

*Benjy At Last!*

“Aw, come on,” Federico whines. “We just want to make things right with Benjy. We’re here to help him. _Help us reach him_!” he _suggests_ to Taylee. 

Again, the weak-willed lass cannot resist the compulsion. She sighs. “All right,” she says, “I will.”

“Please,” Banjo begs, “you must not fight Benjy. I have seen it! I am a prophet. If you do...” He stops, biting his lip.

“If we do, then what?” demands Ari. 

Nara walks up to Banjo. “You’re a prophet?” she asks. “I am, too. Tell me what you’ve seen. Believe me, we have no wish to fight with the Peachtrees; most of us weren’t even with this group when they first met him!”

“I was,” Federico admits. “I was there when Airhead Ed shot out his eye.”*

“Most of us weren’t,” Nara goes on firmly. “And all we want to do is make peace. Ed is dead. We just want to help.”

Banjo studies Nara’s face for a moment, as if searching for signs of deception or guile, and then nods once. “All right,” he says. “I have seen... my visions are not always clear. They are often very symbolic. They- I have to interpret them, you know.”

“I understand,” Nara reassures him.

“If the Peachtrees and the Flapjacks continue to fight, we will close a door for our people. I don’t understand exactly what it is, but there is something wonderful behind it- something that we cannot achieve without peach between our peoples.”

“The Promised Land,” Naomi breathes.

“Yeah, we know about that,” Nara tells Banjo. “That’s kind of why we’re here. We need the cornbread.”

“The-?” Banjo blinks, then realizes, “Oh, _Cornbread._ It’s a who, not a what.”

Our heroes exchange glances.

***

Our heroes move forward, around the corner and into the tomb of Copperdeath.

It is a shocking sight.

The chamber is very large, both wide and high. It is the resting place of the corpse of an immense dragon with scales the deep blue color of sapphires. Its huge mouth is propped open with long spears, and there is a narrow crawl space down through its throat. Little pieces of someone’s armor remain stuck between the sword-length teeth from long ago. Surrounding the corpse is a large arcane apparatus of some kind, fitted with an abundance of lenses and mirrors. The thing bears many small lanterns; the lenses and mirrors seem to redirect all of the light so that it falls directly upon the corpse. A large, strange crystal focuses a wavy beam of light on the ground directly before the dragon’s head, where the party can see another figure surrounded by the apparatus. This one, however, is plainly Benjy Peachtree. He has a patch over one eye, but metal wires and strands snake beneath it and a brilliant blue glow is emanating from beneath the eye patch. He stares silently ahead, apparently sightless. The apparatus is all around him, supporting his immobile form.

“Benjy?” exclaims Federico, horrified.

“This bad,” Jawbreaker explains. 

“I don’t know if he can-” begins Banjo. 

Sarsaparilla and Baird step out into view. “No further, Flapjacks,” Baird calls. Sarsaparilla moves swiftly forward, leaping up on the huge tail of the corpse, her bow readied in her hands. And suddenly there is an explosion of clear goo- Naomi recognizes it as ectoplasm- and a strange iridescent serpent appears out of thin air.

“Crap,” Queffe grumbles, loading her crossbow quickly. Nobody is throwing any blows just yet, but there are preparatory spells being cast and powers being manifested all over the place. For a moment the dervish dares to hope that there won’t have to be a fight. 

Then the serpent and Jawbreaker rush together and begin hacking and biting at each other. As soon as they move, the tension breaks, and spells and missiles are exchanged as well in a sudden outpouring of vicious violence. 

“No! Stop! What has happened? This is all wrong!” Banjo cries. “Please, stop!”

But the battle is on. Jawbreaker and the serpent tear huge wounds in each other; and while Jawbreaker leaks blood, the serpent only bleeds ectoplasm. “It’s an astral construct of some kind!” shouts Naomi.

Suddenly a blue goblin appears, firing an _energy bolt_ at her. She returns fire with an _energy bolt_ of her own. Then a _flaming sphere_ appears on Jawbreaker, who is still fighting the serpent. With a roar, he leaps out of it, and Nara moves up to heal him, for the serpent has already done considerable damage to him.

Taylee leaps forward, drawing her sword and dagger. “No, you can’t hurt my friends!” she cries, attacking Naomi. She slices her arm with the dagger, but then stumbles and falls, smacking her head hard. She is rendered senseless for a few moments. 

Naomi ignores the halfling threat. She doesn’t really want to kill Taylee (though if she did, she just _might_ want to eat her). That damned iridescent serpent, though- that, she wants to kill. She fires another _energy bolt_ at it, and this time it explodes in a shower of ectoplasm.

Jawbreaker drops back with Nara and Federico to receive some healing. It seems at first as though they have gained a little breathing room.

That impression vanishes as the immense draconian corpse begins to move, pulling itself apart. Huge chunks of rotten, half-mummified flesh simply pull free of the now-moving frame, but enough hunks remain on it to make the horrible thing’s identity plain. Bits of the apparatus snap and break off as it animate. 

Copperdeath walks again.

_*Next Time:*_ The final confrontation with Benjy Peachtree and Copperdeath’s corpse!

*During our heroes’ second adventure, Jam Session, which took place waaay early on in the story hour.


----------



## the Jester

*Scorecard*

In this corner, we have:

*Jawbreaker*, barb 7/bear warrior 4; CG.
*Ari*, druid 13; N.
*Queffe*, barbarian 1/fighter 4/dervish 4; CN.
*Federico*, kobold sorcerer 3/bard 7/jester 2; CG.
*Naomi*, psion 6/elementalist 6; LE.
*Erasmuz*, wizard 1/ex-monk 2/ranger 1/psion 1/ur-priest 8; NE.
*Rush*, human soulknife 11; N.

...and in this corner, we have:

*The Corpse of Copperdeath*
*Benjy Peachtree* (he's not moving, but is he doing anything?)
*Master Chef Baird Peachtree* (rogue 4/druid 1/mystic chef 7)
*Taylee Peachtree* (rogue 5/thief-acrobat 5)
*Banjo Hodiddly* (cleric of Yzguzia 6/prophet 4)
*Sarsaparilla Peachtree* (fighter 9)
*Mongrobbe* (blue goblin telepath 5/flayerspawn psychic 3)


----------



## the Jester

Everything is chaos and confusion. 

Rock, scales and dirt fly everywhere. Pieces of wiring and metal bits of the strange apparatus rain down as Copperdeath the dragon animates in a horrifying parody of life. Our heroes fall back momentarily in horror, but the enemy doesn’t slow down at all. Sarsaparilla keeps shooting her bow, but the arrows snap off of Nara’s breastplate. 

The carcass of Copperdeath leans over and snaps a bite down on Yip. The monk has not had a chance to recover his balance from the dragon’s sudden animation, and he is ill-prepared for its bite. It lifts him in the air, crunching into his little kobold body with relish. Teeth as long as a human’s finger pierce Yip’s abdomen and back, applying crushing force. He is killed instantly- and nearly bitten in half!

“We shouldn’t be fighting! Please!!” implores Banjo, once again. “Surrender! Just... stop fighting!”

“Yes!” Queffe shouts. “We _should_ stop fighting! Get your people to stop shooting at us, and we’ll sheathe our weapons and we can talk about this!”

But Sarsaparilla keeps firing, this time sticking an arrow in Ari’s arm. “Ow!” the druid exclaims. He glares at her, but turns towards Baird Peachtree. _He’s older, wiser- the chef- he must be the one in charge of the combat team._ He casts _flame strike,_ blasting the mystic chef with white-hot flame. Baird gives a hoarse cry, but he ignores the druid, instead targeting Nara with a _heat metal._ Fortunately for her, she resists the effect.

Then she feels her body stiffen for a moment. From nowhere, a blue-skinned goblin appears in the corner of the room. Nara shakes her head and throws off the _brain lock_. “I’ll get to you,” she promises.

“Nobody else wants to talk,” Queffe laments. She breaks off negotiations by shooting Taylee with her crossbow. 

“Not true!” cries Nara. “I do! I agree with Banjo, we need to stop fighting! There are more important things at stake here!”

Benjy remains in the apparatus, unresponding. But the rampage of Copperdeath is only beginning. Everyone scatters as it crashes forward again- everyone except Jawbreaker. Refreshed by a _heal_ from Erasmuz, he roars and stands his ground, swinging his axe at the dragon with tremendous force. The two melee for a moment, inflicting terrible wounds on each other. He grunts in dismay when Sarsaparilla starts feathering him with arrows while he’s engaged, and he struggles to throw off a mental hammerblow by the blue goblin, Mongrobbe, crouching in the corner. This sneaky assault is the final straw, and with a booming roar, Jawbreaker morphs into bear from!

The two sides keep exchanging missile and spell fire across the rampaging dragon, which tears into Nara. It doesn’t seem to be following any kind of strategy, but rather choosing targets randomly. This keeps it from focusing on the wounded Jawbreaker, and allows him to fall back to receive yet more healing. Then, rather than resuming his attack on the dragon, he charges over towards Mongrobbe while Ari blasts the wyrm with a _flame strike._

That thing sure is tough. It takes the damage and keeps on going.

The blue, on the other hand, is more fragile. He squeaks in dismay as the bear-shaped Jawbreaker reaches him. Mongrobbe tries to step away and initiate a power, but Jawbreaker steps right after him.* Sweating and nervous, now, Mongrobbe focuses all his concentration and manages to initiate an _energy burst_ without dropping his guard. Flames spew out, catching Jawbreaker, Queffe and Copperdeath. Jawbreaker toughs out the worst of it, but it’s almost all that Queffe can take. 

“Dammit!!” swears Naomi, firing another _energy bolt_ at the wyrm. “That’s _my_ trick, goblin! Now I’m gonna have to eat you!”

Jawbreaker seems to agree. With another loud roar, he rears up and falls upon Mongrobbe, tearing him to pieces!

Nara manages to dart forward and retrieve Yip’s corpse. The wyrm swats at her as she passes by, but then it turns- and attacks Taylee! She tries to tumble away, but it swats her down with a claw, then mauls her horribly with the other. Still gripping her with that claw, it leans forward and bites her sloppily in half. 

“TAYLEE!” screams Banjo in horror.

“Now you see what you’ve done?” Erasmuz shouts at the Peachtree forces.

Nara whirls to face the immobile, yet somehow malign, form of Benjy Peachtree. He is still suspended in the air by the wires and fixtures of the strange apparatus that he was held in. His eye patch has fallen askew in the chaos, and his empty eye socket- the one shot out, so long ago, by Airhead Ed, one of our heroes at the time and the start of _all of this_- his empty eye socket isn’t so empty after all. 

A small fleck of stone has embedded itself in the socket. From it strobes a brilliant white light.

Nara casts _shatter_ on the stone. There is a high-pitched noise for an instant, like crystal vibrating, but nothing further happens. _It resisted!_ the prophet thinks. _Well, fortunately, I prepared for this!_ And she casts another _shatter._ This time, the fragment of crystal virtually vaporizes. Blood sprays from Benjy’s head and he screams and spasms- the first noise or movement that he has made since our heroes entered this place- and collapses out of the apparatus, falling heavily to the ground.

The dead dragon gives a mighty, angry roar. It rears back, ready to continue its rampage. “Enough is enough!” declares Ari. He casts _baleful polymorph_ on the dragon- and to his surprise, it works! Suddenly, instead of a rampaging dragon, the party is faced with a large koi out of water. 

“Please, she was my wife,” pleads Banjo. “Is she not enough of a sacrifice? Let us have peace!”

“Peace!” shouts Federico. 

“Peace!” shouts Queffe.

Naomi blasts the koi, which is busily flopping around, with a _fireball_. Which just happens to catch both Sarsaparilla and Baird. The Master Chef gasps and drops to the ground. “Peace!” the hideously obese elementalist burps.

Sarsaparilla cries, “All right! Put your weapons down and come out, and we’ll talk!”

“Oh thank you,” sobs Banjo. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. It’s not too late. It’s not too late.”

Nara straps her morningstar back to her back and hurries forward to tend to Benjy, already beginning her _regenerate_ prayer.

_*Next Time:*_ The Cornbread Run! 


*JB has a custom feat called Lock-Step, which lets you “follow” an enemy’s 5’ step.


----------



## the Jester

*The Cornbread Run*

The battle is over. All the surviving combatants have laid down their weapons, and all the wounds have been bound. The Flapjacks-Peachtrees feud is over. 

Nara sets to work on Benjy’s ravaged brain and body. With _heal, regenerate_ and _restoration_ she soothes his tortured soul, eases his physical and mental pains and repairs his broken mind. The fragment of the Dragonstone that rested within his empty socket has been crushed; all echoes of old Copperdeath’s spirit are gone, at least for now, and Steeple Mountain is once again empty. 

Benjy, during the short moments between periods of sleep and recuperation, agrees that everything is resolved, and promises that he can make Heather Peachtree (who Jawbreaker long ago accidentally paralyzed while courting) agree to end the feud as well. The discussions grow more intense; the clans must _seal_ their differences, that this might never happen again. There must be a marriage.

“Oh boy!” says Federico.

But what about this cornbread?

“Cornbread is a person,” Benjy tells the party. “He’s the best chef alive.”

“How do we find him?” Naomi asks.

Benjy laughs. “I can give you a map. He’s my... guest, in the Underdark.”

“The Underdark!” Erasmuz looks excited.

“Your prisoner?” Naomi prompts.

“Yes. I have his family cookbook. I was holding it hostage, to keep him at my beck and call.” Benjy shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I have done terrible things,” he whispers. “I am sorry.”

“Your mind was not entirely your own,” Nara says.

He shrugs. “Nonetheless, I did those things.” He heaves a heavy sigh.

***

Into the Underdark. Down winding tunnels of stone, the sun and open sky left far far behind, our heroes clamber and squeeze and walk. They have been in the Underdark before, but never here. Never on Strogass itself. It still looks like the Underdark. There are stalagmites and stalactites, streams of fast-running underground water, growths of strange fungi. Odd crystals in a spread of gorgeous crystals dot the walls and floor. Occasional insects, especially cave crickets, crawl by or crunch underfoot. 

Later, as the party travels deeper on through a wide chamber, they notice a loud clattering noise approaching. They draw weapons, and suddenly a terrible monster comes into view, emerging via a nearby pool of water.

“It’s a chuul!” shouts Erasmuz in horror.

The great lobster-beast scrambles forward. There are broken chains attached to it.

“Uh-oh,” Nara says. 

A screaming group of about a half dozen goggle-eyed fish-men, some with harpoons, charge forward out of the water after it.

The chuul plows into the party, attacking Jawbreaker with all it has, trying to force its way through them and escape the kuo-toa. But its technique is less effective than a “please” would have been, because it results in Jawbreaker beginning to beat the hell out of it.

The kuo-toa, meantime, engage everyone indiscriminately. Speaking in Undercommon, Nara shouts, “We will help you catch your pet, but stop attacking us or we will annihilate you!”

One of the kuo-toa stops and casts a spell. “Interlopers, depart!” it snarls in Halfling. 

For a moment it seems that things might be settling down- but Ari finishes casting a summon spell, and before he can restrain him, the sharks he summoned begin attacking the kuo-toa. “Stop!” he cries to the sharks.

The chuul isn’t settling down, either; Jawbreaker and it are pounding away at each other, though Jawbreaker is striking to disable and not to kill. “Out of my way, little thing!” the monster rumbles in Undercommon. 

Naomi attempts to _brain lock_ the fish-man spellcaster. “Let us through, and we won’t eat your delicious pet,” she gurgles.

At that point, the near-truce completely falls apart, but true to Nara’s prediction, it only takes a few moments for our heroes to annihilate the kuo-toa and their chuul. Afterwards, however, Naomi admits regretfully, “You can’t actually eat a chuul, though.”

“What if we cast _purify food and drink_ and _neutralize poison_ on it?” Erasmuz suggests.

“It still tastes terrible,” Naomi shrugs.

***

Deeper into the Underdark. Days in. Only Nara’s ability to sense the time as a priest of Coila allows the party to know day from night. 

One night, Ari wakes from a deep, secure sleep. He opens his eyes. He can see Erasmuz, on watch, moving to wake Jawbreaker. From far down the passage, a blob of eerie yellow light, like something aflame, seems to be approaching. Ari quickly rises and begins waking the others. 

“Why you wake Jawbreaker?” grunts the chief. Then, “What that?”

Everyone grabs up a weapon as the thing approaches: a large mass that seems to be made of brass and stone so hot that it is glowing. Puffs of foul-smelling smoke vent from the thing’s surface. As it moves up- surprisingly quickly for a formless mass of half-molten ore- it roars a wordless challenge. 

“Whatever it is, it isn’t friendly,” Erasmuz comments, and casts _spiritual weapon_ at it. Everyone is forced to agree as it spews out a spray of flaming gobs of molten brass. Nara and Ari are both caught, but Nara manages to avoid the worst of it. Ari is totally off-guard, however, and not only does he suffer grievous burns on his body, but the cooling brass clings to him, slowing him!

Naomi gulps and channels the power of elemental fire to ward herself against its touch. Then she moves back and fires a _cold bolt_ at it. To her chagrin, she does not penetrate its spell resistance.

Then, as the creature gets closer, it stops abruptly, and speaks- in Halfling. “I apologize. I did not recognize your kind at a distance. I will withdraw.” It begins to back away. “Tell the master that the oven is ready.”

The party stares as the ember guard retreats. “Uh, what just happened?” asks Nara.

“It spoke Halfling, and it stopped attacking once it realized that we’re halflings. I wonder if it was one of Benjy Peachtrees’ guardians?” suggests Erasmuz.

“Peachtrees use peach golems, not fire thing,” Jawbreaker points out.

“Cornbread,” says Naomi.

Everyone turns to her.

“Its master has to be Cornbread,” she continues. “It said ‘the oven is ready.’ That sounds like a message for our man, all right.”

“You’re right,” nods Ari. 

***

Not much further along, our heroes come upon a fence. 

There haven’t been any signs of habitation anywhere along the way so far, so this is a very interesting find. It gets more interesting when our heroes get close enough to see the shaggy, bison-like beasts within. “Rothe,” says Ari. “And in a pen. Obviously, we’re close...”

Indeed, not far on the other side of the pen, our heroes find a halfling-sized cottage. Their collective pulses quicken; could this be it? Is this where they find the Cornbread that, according to prophecy, can “open the way”?

“Stupid Promised Land,” sneers Rush. “You find your way there, and we are done. I will not go to your Promised Land.”

“You’re a human anyway,” points out Federico. “I don’t know if you could get there.”

“And you’re a kobold.”

“Oh no,” Federico demurs, “I’m a _halfling_. I’m a member of the clan and everything. Besides,” he continues with a wink, “I graduated from the Halfling Program!”*

Erasmuz knocks on the door- and when it opens, our heroes meet Cornbread.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes take on a new identity and form their own clan! And, Cornbread opens the way to the Promised Land!!


*Long-time readers may recall the Halfling Program that the party put Timothy on to make him an honorary halfling.


----------



## the Jester

*Clan Ham!*

The door opens, and Cornbread peers out at our heroes. 

“Yes, what is it?” he grumbles. “What does Benjy want now?”

Cornbread is a stout, well-dressed halfling of middle years. He has large hands, strong from years of kneading dough and tenderizing meat. His nose is large, almost of gnomely proportions- no doubt to enhance his fine sense of smell, which is so important in the cooking process. He wears a short-sleeved shirt, with a long apron over it tied at the waist. Sensible caving boots poke out from beneath it. 

“We aren’t from the Peachtrees, sir,” Ari says respectfully. “We’re different halflings. We’re HAM.* And we’re here to tell you that you’re free.”

Cornbread blinks. “What do you mean?” 

“We took care of Peachtrees problem,” Jawbreaker says.

“What?”

“We helped rid Benjy Peachtrees of the madness that possessed him,” Nara explains. “He and his kin won’t be bothering you any more.”

“So you say,” Cornbreak replies. “But it isn’t that simple. He has my family cookbook. As long as he possesses it, he has power over me.”

“Not to worry,” burbles the obese Naomi, swallowing the last piece of sausage she had nestled between her sweaty breasts. “Here, I have something for you.” With a fat smile, Naomi reaches into her pack and pulls out an old, loose-paged, grease-stained book. “This is from Benjy- and us.”

Cornbread takes the book. His eyes are wide. He slowly starts to grin. “How.. I can’t believe it! After all this time...” His eyes shimmer with tears. “Oh, thank you!” The grin is pronounced now. “Thank you!”

“We are glad to help a cook of such renown,” Naomi says. 

“And we hope that you can now help us,” Nara adds.

“Of course! What can I do?”

“It is said,” Erasmuz declares, “that only Cornbread can open the way.”

“The way... to the Promised Land,” breathes Cornbread.

Erasmuz and Ari exchange a glance. 

“Yes... yes, I know of it,” Cornbread sighs. “Please, come in.” He moves back inside his hut. “I’ll need a few minutes to gather my things... perhaps you’d like some tea?”

“Let’s have a meal before we go,” Naomi suggests.

So it is that our heroes sit and eat with Cornbread. He is most grateful to them for freeing him from Benjy Peachtree’s influence, but even so, he is reluctant to let Naomi copy recipes from his family book. “You won’t need them anyway, where you’re going,” he says glumly.

“Why? What do you mean?” 

“There is all the food you can imagine, in the Promised Land.”

“Have you been there, then?” asks Nara.

Cornbread nods. “I have.”

“Come back with us,” Jawbreaker offers.

“I can’t,” Cornbread sighs. “The food would kill me.”

“What!” exclaims Ari. 

“I have been there, and left. Now that I have tasted... such blandness... as all food not of the Promised Land is, to eat or drink of it again would be too rich for me, too intense. It would be fatal. I may not return.”

Our heroes are a little unsettled by this tale.

“But,” Cornbread concludes, “I can and will help you.”

“You have kin?” Jawbreaker asks. “Want us take you somewhere?”

“No,” Cornbread shakes his head. “Distant kin, yes, but none close, none alive.”

“Join our clan,” Chief Jawbreaker suggests impulsively.

“Join-?” Cornbread stares at him. Slowly, nods. “You are the only people to have helped me, to have been kind to me, for a- a very long time. I _will_ join you! You said your clan is Ham?”

And there it is. It hangs in the air in front of all of them for a moment as they realize how perfect it is. Yes, they are all of a single clan. They are family. The founding of a new clan is a rare thing, requiring a perfect confluence of circumstance, an unusual combination of event, need and desire.

And here it is: a new clan, sparkling and newborn: Clan Ham.

“Cornbread Ham,” says Cornbread. “I like the sounds of that.”

Everyone grins at each other. This day is looking more and more promising with each passing moment!

“Oh yeah, there’s one more thing, buddy,” Erasmuz adds. “We met some big brassy flaming thing on our way down here, and it asked us to tell you that the ovens are ready.”

Cornbread stares at him. Slowly, he starts to laugh. “Indeed they are,” he chuckles, “indeed they are.”

***

Though Cornbread Ham does not elaborate on the source of his amusement, our heroes get the sense that he wants to help their quest. He is not too forthcoming about his time in the Promised Land, but the party gets the impression that he either cannot or, perhaps, _should not_ talk about certain things. When Naomi mentions this notion to him, he does not deny it. 

The trek to the spot where the party met, and briefly fought, the ember guardian is made quick by _wind walk,_ and Cornbread leads the new-made Ham clan towards his ovens, where he sets to work at once, baking bread, cookies and other morsels. “When you are ready, let me know, and I’ll make the cornbread,” he says gravely.

The others look around at each other. “We’re ready,” says Nara. 

Rush snorts. “This is it, then,” the human states. “I go no further with you. You go to your Promised Land! There is nothing for me to kill for you there.”

“You don’t know that,” Erasmuz points out, but Rush folds his arms across his chest.

“He is not suited to go anyhow,” Cornbread murmurs. “He is not a halfling.”

“What about Federico?” asks Jawbreaker.

“I’m a halfling!” squeaks the kobold.

“We shall see,” Cornbread says. “You _might_ be. Rush certainly is not.”

The human nods adamantly.

***

The smell of baking cornbread is almost more than our heroes can stand. The aroma lingers in the air, heralding the arrival of the cornbread. Heralding- heralding the Promised Land itself. The smell thickens. “It will be soon, now,” Cornbread Ham says.

As the delicious scent grows more and more intense, it slowly starts to become visible in the air. Slowly, shimmering, it forms a hazy portal.

“There,” Cornbread breathes. “There! There is the portal!” He grins at the party. “Good luck. Thank you again for helping me!”

Nara smiles at him. “And thank you.”

Our heroes go through the portal.

_*Next Time:*_ Into the Promised Land?


*HAM = Halfling Action Militia.


----------



## the Jester

Is this the Promised Land at last?

Through the portal, our heroes find themselves on a wide strip of sandy ground, roughly torus-shaped and largely encircled by high stone cliffs. There is a comfortable-looking table in the center, just near a cooking pit; a small amount of exploration quickly discovers an opening in the walls that leads outside. The halflings can hear the crash of surf from outside. The air has the tangy smell of the sea in it.

When they emerge from the enclosed area, they find themselves in a very comfortable environment. They are about midway up the sandy area of a long, gentle beach. Before them is the sea, glimmering emerald in the sunlight. Behind them, a few hundred yards away, the sands end and the trees begin. The ground slopes gently up away from the ocean.

A great, tasty-looking crab is crawling up the beach in their general direction. It is incredibly large- its central shell is almost 17’ across. It’s thick, dangerous-looking pincers snap at the empty air.  

Nara cries out, “Lunch!” She launches a _flame strike,_ hoping to start cooking early. She follows it up with a _searing light,_ while Naomi joins in with an elemental _fireball_ and a psionic _fire bolt_ and Ari tosses another _flame strike._ 

But the crab is big and tough. It survives the cooking attempts and charges forward onto Jawbreaker, clawing him for terrific damage. The Chief roars in anger and transforms into a bear! He lashes out, returning the favor. The crab and he begin tearing and hacking at each other, leaving terrible wounds in each other. The monstrous crab has tremendous reach, and as our heroes move around it, they keep giving it the opportunity to attack them. Soon it has crushed several of the halflings with ruthless strength, leaving them noticeably wounded. The crab turns its attention back to Jawbreaker, and another mighty blow of the pincers shatters several of his teeth! Blood sprays all over from the bear’s mouth, and it gives a load roar of pain and displeasure. The crab’s other pincer snakes in and takes off two of his toes! Jawbreaker howls again.

The adventurers keep up their attack. Naomi continues her cooking attempts both through her psychic powers and by channeling the elemental forces. Erasmuz uses a _spiritual weapon_ to keep hammering at the crab, and then begins casting a suite of buffing spells upon himself, starting with _divine power_ and then casting _righteous might_ to enlarge himself to the size of a human! Thus swollen with power, he strides towards the crab and first heals Jawbreaker, and then pulls forth his harpoon. Nara casts a _mass cure light wounds_ and heals those that the crab has damaged- including herself, Chief Jawbreaker and Erasmuz.

Jawbreaker takes a swipe at the crab, but it scuttles away and he misses. Blood is pouring down his face from his mouth, despite the healing administered to him. He shakes his head to clear it, even as Naomi attempts a _mind thrust_ on the crab. “It’s mindless!” she shouts. 

“That’s okay,” Erasmuz replies, stabbing it with his man-sized rapier. “We can still kill it.” As if in agreement, his _spiritual weapon_ pounds down on the crab, cracking its shell!

Then Ari, _wild shaped_ into a dire bear, bellows and charges forward. The crab snaps at him with its pincer, tearing a long gouge in his side, but Ari thunders forward and crashes into the monster, shattering its skull and pounding its head to mush. The thing drops; its feet still twitch, but it is clearly no longer a threat.

“I bet some of it’s already ready to eat,” Naomi burbles, drool dripping from her chins.

***

The crab is delicious, and it’s easy enough to grab up the fuel for a large fire, upon which they can cook as much crab as they want, or at least, as much as they can.
“So _is_ this the Promised Land?” wonders Ari.

“It looks pretty good so far,” Nara replies.

“I don’t know, I’m suspicious,” the druid says.

“You’re always suspicious.”

“That is true,” Ari admits. 

“Well, look over there,” Queffe gestures.

There is a figure approaching. Everyone stands up and prepares for trouble. “Hello,” Naomi hails the approaching figure.

“Hello,” he replies, in Halfling. He throws down his hood. He is an elderly halfling gentleman, with a long-out-of-fashion “gnome beard” and silk clothing of an unusual, old-fashioned cut. “Welcome! Welcome!”

“Is this it, then?” asks Queffe. “Have we reached...?”

“The Promised Land?” the stranger replies. “Almost. You are on the cusp of it. You must simply pass the trials first.”

“The trials?” asks Nara.

“Yes. You must prove yourselves _worthy_ of entering the Promised Land. Finding your way here is but the first part of that proof. You must still pass the trials. I am your guide to them.”

“What can you tell us about them?”

“There are seven known trials, and you will take them in order. You must impress the Promised Land to enter.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you pass the trials, or at least most of them, you will probably be allowed to enter.” The guide shrugs. “But I cannot say for certain. I do not decide; the Promised Land decides, and I can only guess at what it wants.” 

“I see.” Nara pauses. “What’s it like?”

The guide smiles beatifically. “It’s perfect,” he sighs. “It’s everything you could imagine, everything you could hope for. You’ll have a chance to taste it for yourself in the first trial.”

_Cornbread tasted it and left, and could never go back again,_ Naomi reminds the others telepathically. 

“One thing I can tell you is my own personal philosophy on the Promised Land, and what it means to be a halfling. I think there are certain halfling virtues. The Promised Land may not entirely agree with me- it seems to have a mind of its own- but this philosophy has served me well, during my time in the Promised Land. I believe that the Halfling Virtues are: Joy, Sharing, Prudence, Staunchness, Consumption, Creation, Cleverness and Gentleness.”

Naomi scribbles frantically, writing the virtues down. “Consumption,” she gurgles. “I can get behind that.”

“When do these trials begin?” asks Ari.

“That is up to you,” the guide answers. “You must merely tell me, and I will take you to the first trial. You may take as much time as you want between trials.”

“Forget that!” Erasmuz exclaims. “We’re almost there! I want to get in to the Promised Land!”

The guide smiles. “I can understand that.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us about these trials?” asks Nara.

“You won’t need your weapons and armor. You can leave them here. They’ll be here when you are ready to retrieve them. Oh, and I can tell you the names of the trials.”

“Please,” Jawbreaker grunts.

”The first trial is the Trial of Eating. Then there is the Trial of Drinking. Then Cooking, Dessert, Hunting, Cleverness and Faith.”

Erasmuz looks discomfited at the mention of faith.

Everyone takes stock and ensures that they are ready. Nobody is badly wounded, and they have most of their spells and powers still ready to go. “Let’s do it,” Naomi exclaims, chewing on another morsel of crab meat. “Take us to the first trial!”

_*Next Time:*_ The Trials of the Promised Land!


----------



## the Jester

Current Party Roster:

*Erasmuz Ham* - wiz 1/psion 1/ranger 1/ex-monk 2/ur-priest 8; NE
*Nara Ham-Shroomer* - cleric 5/prophet 8; LN
*Ari Ham* - druid 13; N
*Naomi Ham* - psion 7/elementalist 6/sarcophagic slug 1; LE
*Chief Jawbreaker Ham* - barbarian 7/bear warrior 4; CG
*Queffe Quaffe Ham* - barbarian 1/fighter 4/dervish 6; CN

We're about three sessions away from the end of the halfling campaign at this point in the story hour. I'm not sure how many updates this entails- I'm guessing 3-8?

If anyone is interested, after I post the various trials, I'll post the mechanics of them. Several of them involved 4e-style skill tests and the like.


----------



## the Jester

For the record, I realized that I left an important thing out of one of the recent updates. Cornbread taught the party some halfling food magic spells before they parted ways. Once I get who got which spell straight, I'll post the details.

New update follows...


----------



## the Jester

*The Trial of Eating and the Trial of Drinking*

Naked of armor, with only a dagger or staff amongst them, the halflings follow their guide to the First Trial of the Promised Land: The Trial of Eating. It is pleasantly warm, with enough wind stirring that the air stays fresh rather than oppressive. The smells of delicious food cooking waft along on the air currents. It looks like it is about noon. 

The guide leads our heroes to a massive spread of food of all kinds. A clearing, surrounded by a trellis with grape vines curling up it, hosts a mass of food unlike anything the party has ever seen. Spilling over a mass of tables, there are breads, fruits, cheeses, meats, pies... everything that a clan of halflings could hope for in a meal. Several pitches of water, milk, juice and other drinks are upon the tables. It all looks remarkably fresh, and the smells of fresh muffins, bread, bacon and beef mix to form a tantalizing olfactory experience that begs to go on to the next level: in the mouth, down the gullet to rest in the belly.

“So much food,” gasps Naomi in awe.

The guide nods. “Once you make it into the Promised Land, _if_ you make it into the Promised Land, you will never want for food again.”

The party slowly walks up to the arch leading into the clearing where the food is set up. “There are even dishes for us to use!” Nara exclaims, pointing at one table in particular. Jawbreaker snorts at them disdainfully. 

“Of course. This is the first trial,” the guide announces gravely. “You must show that you know how to eat like halflings. When you are done, walk out of the arch in the trellis on the other side of the clearing.” He indicates the position to which he is referring with a gesture. “I will meet you on the other side. Eat like halflings. Good luck.” 

With that, the party advances upon the horde of food. Or is it... hoard of food?

***

They eat. 

Everything, every single morsel, is as good as it looks and smells. This food is succulent, spicy. crispy, crunchy, bursting with juice, salty or bitter as required. It is _perfect,_ literally _perfect_ food. 

One of them will try something, then declare how delicious it is. Some of their companions move over to join in the feasting on that particular item, but others are too busy with the specific taste that they have found at a different table. Even Ari, scrawny by halfling standards, who favors simple grains, vegetables and nuts, cannot deny that the granola here is better than any other granola that he has ever tasted. Finally he can stand it no longer, and he _wild shapes_ into a bear to devour the mounds of berries, to dig into the fresh salmon, to lick the honeycombs. 

Jawbreaker thinks like a chief. He prowls about, looking to find the very best first. It is a hard thing, when _everything_ is the very best, but every man has things that he prefers. His inner bear quivers in joy as he begins nom nom nomming along with all his friends- along with his clan. Clan Ham.*

Jawbreaker smiles. _Long ago, Jawbreaker’s old clan died,_ he thinks. _At last, Jawbreaker has moved on. New clan. New family. 

And soon, the Promised Land._ His smile turns into a grin. 

They eat and eat and eat. Of them all, only Ari is at all moderate. Soon they are all bloated and stuffed. 

“Can’t eat any more,” gasps Jawbreaker. “So full.”

Ari, in bear form, moans agreement. 

_“Never!”_ Naomi cries. “Too much,” gasp wheeze, “is never enough!” She struggles to stuff another sausage in her mouth. Grease drips from her chins, pooling between her pendulous breasts. Butter stains dapple her shirt and collar.

Taking heart from their slug-like friend, Erasmuz and Nara continue. Erasmuz pauses, then casts _righteous might,_ growing to medium size and thereby enlarging his remaining stomach space.

Finally, when they can barely move, they stop.** Stuffed like they have never been stuffed before, they rest for a time, cleansing their palates with cool water (and, in Naomi’s case, one last fruit tart) and finally staggering towards the arch that leads from the clearing. When they emerge, they find their guide waiting for them with a smile. 

”Well, how did it go?” he asks.

“I thought you could tell us,” replies Ari (who is once again in halfling form).

The guide shrugs. “Hey, I’m just your guide.”

“What was your name again, buddy?” Erasmuz queries.

“Ask me again after you’re in,” the guide says. “Until then, my role is very tightly prescribed.”

“Well, what about the next test?” Naomi burbles.

“The Trial of Drinking,” the guide nods. “Are you ready?”

Jawbreaker chortles. “Jawbreaker ready!”

***

The second trial takes place just around the bend from the first, where a small hillside tavern awaits the group. Their guide leads our heroes inside.

Within the hillside tavern is a friendly room that smells pleasantly of pipe weed, fresh-baked bread and ale. It is peopled by a nice mix of races, including a few gnomes, humans, half-elves, a dwarf, even a trio of goblins and a fat centaur. Strangely, though in all cases their race is obvious, all of them are the size of halflings. There are also two other halflings in the place, who look rather glum.

The party makes their way into the room. Several of the strangers within nod or raise glasses to the, and a half-elf calls out, “Good luck!”

The party approaches the two other halflings. Shrewd Erasmuz notes that the guide doesn’t leave them yet. “Hello,” Nara says to the two glum-looking halflings, who nod at her. “I’m Nara. We’re looking for the Promised Land.”

“Yeah, us too,” one of the two strangers replies sadly. “Except, we found it; we just didn’t get in.”

“But maybe we can get in with you, if you succeed,” the second one puts in. “I’m Nullick Acorn, and this is my brother Tork.”

Gently, the guide says, “You know that it doesn’t work like that.”

Nullick’s face falls. “We’ll see,” he answers. “We won’t give up. We’ll find a way! We won’t go back to Cydra- we’ll stay here forever if we have to!”

The guide sighs. “Of course, you may stay as long as you like.”

The party moves off towards the bar, talking to the other, halfling-sized, people along the way. They are all creatures who attempted to reach the Promised Land with halflings, but didn’t quite make it. Like the Acorn brothers, they refuse to give up, choosing instead to stay on the border to the Promised Land. “They serve their purpose, though,” the guide states enigmatically.

The Trial of Drinking requires the pcs to “drink like halflings”, as the Guide invites our heroes to do to the cheers of the onlookers, who all seem to know what’s going on. The crowd boisterously wishes the party luck. Meanwhile, the dwarf tears off his shirt, revealing a formidably-muscled chest and neck, and announces, “I’d best get started, then!” He pulls a prodigiously large bottle of spirits out and takes a frightfully large pull off of it. Smacking his lips, he shouts, “Oh yeah! That’s good! Who doesn’t like that, *oh yeah!!*”

“Well,” Nara says, ignoring the dwarf (who is rapidly getting tanked and growing rowdy), “let’s drink like halflings, then!” She orders a round of beers (discovering that the tavern doesn’t charge for drinks) and casts _blessed beer,_ one of the spells that Cornbread taught the party.

The party gets to drinking, Queffe dances around, not stripping for once, and the party gets pretty drunk. But not outrageously so; not like the dwarf, who keeps getting louder and louder and more and more obnoxious. Soon he is mocking Naomi. “Damn, girl, I thought that I’d seen fat halflings before, but you’re _fat!_” he screams.

“Why thank you,” she bats her eyelashes at him. 

The dwarf utters a series of what he means as blistering insults, and Naomi flirts right back. He grows red in the face and gives an angry roar. Queffe steps up between the two of them and says, “Calm down, big boy. You need to relax-”

The dwarf throws a drunken punch.

Queffe tumbles away. Jawbreaker throws his bucket of beer at the dwarf with a hearty bear-guffaw, and Naomi _dominates_ the dwarf. 

“Oh, sit down and have a drink with us,” she says, and puts her hand on his knee.

***

Happily drunk, our heroes leave the tavern behind singing traditional halfling songs about bacon and wine. The dwarf, after his intoxicated and _dominated_ strip tease, was left to gather up what dignity he could and sleep off the effects of the dramatic amounts of liquor that he drank. 

The guide claps his hands appreciatively as they approach. “If I had to guess, I’d guess that you’re doing well so far,” he tells them.

“Can we wait a while for the neksht tesht?” slurs Nara.

“As long as you’d like,” he nods.

Naomi is already snoring.

_*Next Time:*_ The Trials continue!

*For the record, the founding of Clan Ham took me completely off guard. I had been expecting a “Clan Jawbreaker” to congeal for about a year (real time), but it never did. 

**Naomi took 4 points of dex damage from eating, Erasmuz 3 points and Nara 2 points. They really did eat until they could barely move!


----------



## the Jester

The party walks along at a leisurely place. They can see trees with lollipops hanging like fruit in the distance, but (their guide explains) they cannot reach them. “They lie in the true Promised Land, not here on the border.”

“Like those fields of bread I saw, while I was flying in eagle form,” Ari exclaims. 

The guide nods. “Exactly.”

Up ahead, a cheerful-looking cottage with many chimneys comes into view. The smell of baking and cooking is strong. Our heroes quicken their pace, and soon they arrive at the cottage. “The Trial of Cooking,” their guide announces. “Cook like halflings.” With a smile, he takes his leave of them.

The party moves inside the cottage. Its interior is very large. It is dominated by a bank of huge ovens; wood stoves, as well as several firepits, are in the place as well. The walls are covered in shelves and cabinets of cooking-related materials: spices, flour, cutlery, dishes and more. It is the most impressively-stocked kitchen that any of our heroes have ever seen.

“Good,” Jawbreaker says, and smiles broadly. “We get to work.”

The party rolls up their collective sleeves and begins to put things together.* Ari finds the best wood for the fire while Naomi uses her considerable cooking skills to start an intriguing chocolate horseradish chicken dish. Jawbreaker uses his sharp sense of smell to sniff out appropriate spices and ingredients. Erasmuz bluffs the others into thinking he’s helping.

Soon enough the delicious smell of Naomi’s chicken dish becomes tempting. She fends off her friends for a little longer, and then they eat. Nom nom nom! Ahhh, delicious. As always, Naomi’s cooking skills come through for our heroes. 

When they leave, their guide is waiting for us. “Well, how are we doing?” Ari asks.

The guide shrugs. “I don’t know. It looks good to me so far, but the Promised Land itself will judge you.” He sniffs the air. “Hmm, what did you make?”

Naomi and the guide get into an animated discussion about cooking for a few moments. But they are eager to continue along their quest, and to reach the Promised Land at last. 

Next is the Trial of Dessert. 

“You’ll need to go get it,” the guide explains. “It is kept in the back of a cave.”

“A cave!” exclaims Ari. “Should we get our weapons and armor?”

“You won’t need them,” the guide replies. “You are just getting dessert.”

“Okay,” Ari agrees dubiously.

“What’s for dessert, anyway?” Nara asks. “And why is it kept in a cave?”

The guide smiles. “It has to be kept in the cave in order to keep it cold- the back of the cave is an ice cave, you see. It will be delicious, I promise you. It is a mix of fruit juices with crushed up ice- similar to a sherbet. It is astonishingly good.”

Our heroes exchange a collective glance. “All right,” declares Ari, “let’s go!”

The guide gives our heroes very simple directions to the cave, and Erasmuz casts _wind walk_ on all of them. In vaporous form, it takes them all of twenty seconds to reach the cave, and then they land and rematerialize. On foot, then, the party treks inside. The cave is much deeper than they had originally expected; they descend and follow it back for several minutes before they see the first few patches of ice. Slowing to ensure that nobody has a nasty slip, they continue. Soon the walls are coated in a layer of ice. Finally, the back of the cave opens up into a small chamber.

“Wow!” exclaims Naomi

A bucket of crushed ice stained dark purple from fruit juice is in the center of the cave. Nara immediately points out the other dozen or so jugs of icy, half-frozen juice throughout the chamber. 

“This one smells like kiwis!” exclaims Naomi.

They set to figuring out how to contruct their dessert, and naturally they have to sample things to make sure that they get them right. They put together a bucket of mixed blackberry, cherry and kiwi juice over crushed ice. Soon most everyone is having an icy, refreshing treat. “That is _good,_” remarks Queffe. “Oh, yeah.”

“Well, clearly we can’t carry this all back,” Nara says. “We should mix something up here and bring it back.”

“Yeah,” Naomi agrees, “and I think I know just the thing to add to this recipe to make it _even better._”

And she pulls out some bacon.

***

The bucket of icy goodness is flavored with the juice of peaches, bananas and blueberries. There is a hint of bacon, as well as a touch of hazelnut in it. 

And it smells _fantastic._

Eager to complete the trial, our heroes hurry towards the exit from the cave. 

And, weaponless and armorless, stumble upon a troll. 

The warty green giant roars at the sight of them. It rakes the air with its claws and gnashes its foul yellow teeth.

Yet, at least immediately, it does not attack.

_This is part of the trial, too,_ thinks Erasmuz. He smirks to himself. _I get it._ He tries to catch the troll’s eye, to attempt to stare it down, but the monster is pacing around and throwing its head back too much. It roars again, saliva drooling from its mouth. 

“Troll hungry,” Jawbreaker comments. “Want slushy?” He holds up the bucket of dessert. 

The troll roars and licks his lips. He glares at the chief. 

The party feeds the troll honeyed snow cones, peanut butter and bacon and chunks of chocolate. Finally, the menacing- yet never actually violent- troll starts to yawn and fall asleep. 

“We didn’t even have to use our own slushy stuff,” Erasmuz chortles. 

“Victory!” predicts Queffe.

“Let’s hope so,” Ari agrees. But he thinks, _Somehow, it still seems too good to be true..._

***

Together with their guide, our heroes finish dessert. It is delicious, and the guide beams at them. “Good choice of flavors!” he exclaims. “There was something different about it, too- some little nuance I’d never tasted before...”

“That’s us, all right,” Naomi agrees with a lewd wink. 

“Well, you just let me know when you’re ready for the Trial of Hunting.”

“I’m ready any time,” Naomi jiggles suggestively.

“Uh, great, how about the rest of you?”

“I’m _full,_” Erasmuz sighs. He glances at Naomi. “Hey, buddy, let’s have a good sleep first, what do you say?”

“Fine by me,” she shrugs. She turns her attention back to their guide with a leer. “Will you be sleeping near us?”

“Uh, not that close,” he tells her.

***

The next morning, between breakfast and second breakfast, they set out. The Guide leads the way. “Nothing can be good if it is made up of bad ingredients,” he tells them. “A chef must know what he is cooking with. That is the point of growing your own vegetables or fruits, or of raising or hunting your own meat. That’s the point of this trial. You have to find some worthy prey, hunt it and bring it back.” He looks at them. “You will know your quarry when you find it, I promise you,” he adds. 

“I can gather nuts and berries,” Ari starts, but the Guide cuts him off.

“That’s well and good, but this is the Trial of _Hunting,_ not the Trial of Foraging.”

“Right,” the druid acknowledges. “Fair enough.”

The Guide takes them to their equipment. “You can’t hunt without weapons,” he smiles. “Good luck!” 

The party sets out. Within the first day they have gathered a number of birds, hares and other smaller creatures, as well as various wild vegetables to go with them. They bring down a large elk with a poisoned crossbow bolt, and then Ari casts _neutralize poison_ on the corpse before they begin to prepare it. 

It is not until the next morning, however, that they encounter what they immediately recognize as their quarry: bacon beasts.

The bacon beasts look like huge dire boars that have already been roasted. Cherry red apples are stuck in their mouths. Immediately, the mouths of our heroes all begin to water.

“We _are_ on the way to the Promised Land,” Ari cries. “Bacon, already cooked- and it’s coming towards us!”

_*Next Time:*_ Against the bacon beasts! Return of the Acorn Brothers! And the Trial of Cleverness!


*This was a 4e-style skill test.


----------



## the Jester

The bacon beasts smell delicous. Their tantalizing odor makes drool drip from the mouths of our heroes as if they were a pack of rabid dogs.

The bacon beasts trot into the underbrush, seeking cover. They have clearly spotted the party, and it seems likely that they know what to expect from an encounter with halflings. The party starts to pursue, enthusiastically. Ari _wild shapes_ into an eagle and launches himself into the sky. The others simply begin moving forward. 

Then, as our heroes close in, the bacon beasts do something rather unexpected. Each belches forth a great spew of bacon grease, applesauce and savory spices, but it is burning hot! Nara, Jawbreaker and Queffe get splattered, and it is very slippery on top of everything else. Seeing this, Erasmuz casts _freedom of movement_ before he begins to move in on the tasty-looking monsters. 

Grinning like a madman, Jawbreaker charges in. He is surprised to discover that the bacon beasts are actually rather difficult to hit- they are quick, and very greasy; his blows tend to slide off rather than penetrating. Ari and Nara, on the other hand, have more luck with a pair of _flame strikes_. Soon one of the beasts is down and on fire. Only a moment later, after Jawbreaker hacks it with his axe, the beast seems to reconsider. It tries to flee, and it is fast and greasy. 

But no creature in the world escapes a greased halfling!

Jawbreaker gives out a yell and charges after it, swinging his axe in a wild arc that comes down and crushes the beast’s side. A great spurt of bacon grease spews out. The creature lows in pain, and Jawbreaker takes a quick bite out of it. 

The halflings fall upon them, and the bacon beasts fall.

***

“Congratulations!” the guide says enthusiastically. “You’re moving right along, aren’t you!” 

“Thanks, buddy,” Erasmuz replies. He wipes his mouth with a hanky. “Those thiings were certainly tasty.”

“Some of the best eating that I’ve ever had,” the guide acknowledges. He sits down and digs in with the party for a few moments.

Eventually, Ari says, “What’s next?”

“Ah,” the guide responds, “next is the Trial of Cleverness.”

“Trail of Cleverness... what’s that entail?”

“I can’t really say,” the guide answers. “You know that by now. You’ll find out. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

“Not yet,” Naomi gasps, masticating noisily. “So... much... bacon.”

***

Eventually, the party is ready for their next challenge. However, it does take a while for them (or rather, Naomi) to get full enough, and then to digest a little. One more snack, and they’re ready to go!

The Trial of Cleverness turns out to be an old tradition: a halfling boasting contest. The party finds themselves arrayed against the Acorn Brothers, whom they met in the tavern during the Trial of Drinking. 

Some round mocking of Jawbreaker and Ari leads to the chief throwing some nuts at the Acorn Brothers “because they ain’t got none”. In response, they offer to show the evidence. Nara interjects, urging the Acorn Brothers to join the party and attempt to get to the Promised Land.

“You’re doomed to fail,” the Acorn Brothers sneer. 

The boasting continues, both sides taking it to outrageous heights. Erasmuz even convinces the Acorn Brothers that he is their father! By the end of it all, though, it is plain that the Acorn Brothers have won.

The party has lost their first trial.

“I hope that doesn’t stop us from getting in,” Nara says worriedly.

“It won’t. Look how much halfling spirit we show!” And Naomi gives out a thunderous, foul-smelling belch.

_*Next Time:*_ The Trial of Faith!


----------



## Brain

the Jester said:


> The boasting continues, both sides taking it to outrageous heights. Erasmuz even convinces the Acorn Brothers that he is their father! By the end of it all, though, it is plain that the Acorn Brothers have won.




One of my favorite Erasmuz bluffing moments for sure.  Everything stopped and the room burst into laughter.  I think bluffing the guy into trading him a ring of water walking for an unidentified potion (which he claimed was a potion of longevity - maybe it was ) was my favorite.

Also, Erasmuz was confident going into all of the trials, except the next one, the trial of faith...


----------



## the Jester

After their loss in the Trial of Cleverness, the party consoles themselves with a meal. “Just think,” laments Naomi, “those Acorn Brothers beat us, and they can’t even get into the Promised Land!”

“I think they are serving their purpose right where they are,” Erasmuz muses. “Maybe they are supposed to stay where they are so that they can oppose other halflings trying to get to the Promised Land, like us, in the Trial of Cleverness.”

“That’s a horrible fate,” Nara says. “To be so close, yet... never to reach the Promised Land.”

“You can even _see_ elements of the Promised Land- I saw fields of bread, earlier- but you just can’t get to them.” Ari sighs heavily. “I hope our loss in that last test doesn’t weigh too heavily against us.”

“Well, those punks deserve it,” Nara replies. “They’re total dicks. Once we get in, we should send them a care package. ‘From Mommy and Daddy, too bad you couldn’t be here.’”

“We send them fruitcake,” chortles Chief Jawbreaker.

***

Later, once they are ready to move on, their guide consoles them. “You could still get in. A lot of folks in the Promised Land failed one or more trials when they tried to get in.” He shrugs. “I failed one myself. Good luck.”

The party follows him to the top of a small hill. Below them is a shrine. “That is a shrine to the old gods,” their guide tells the group. “Use your symbol to both open the doors and to make an appropriate sacrifice within.”

“Uh, symbol?” Nara asks.

“Yes, your symbol of the old gods.”

The party exchanges a few uneasy glances. “Anyone got a symbol of the old gods?” asks Naomi. “What does it look like?” She looks at the guide. 

“Sounds like not, then. Interesting. Hmm, I guess that I have said all that I really can. If you don’t have a symbol, the old gods will probably test you.” The guide hesitates. “Well. Good luck, then. Go in and make an appopriate sacrifice, would be my best guess.”

“What kind?”

The guide shrugs. “I’ve said all I can.”

“Is there somewhere that we could go get one first?” asks Nara.

“No,” the guide says flatly. “Not without leaving the testing zone.”

“And that means...?” Erasmuz wonders.

“That you failed.”

“Ah,” Erasmuz declares.

“It’s a forfeit, more or less,” nods Ari. “That makes sense.”

Jawbreaker scratches his beard and puffs out his chest. “We here. We try.”

The party walks down the hillside and towards the shrine. It is walled, but not roofed. Within, through a large window, they can see an altar.

They pause long enough for Nara to use her prophetic _divination_ ability. _What should our symbol be?_ she asks. 

_If you do not bring one from without, your only symbol can be valor._

“Jawbreaker valorous,” declares the Chief.

Erasmuz _stone shapes_ a horn of plenty from some surrounding stone. Cradling it in his arms, he rejoins the others, who have meantime examined the shrine itself.  A large, heavy stone door, graven with images of all kinds of food, seals the place up. “We should use the cornucopia as our symbol,” suggests the ur-priest. “It is very halfling.”

“It’s probably our best hope,” Naomi agrees. “Do we even know what it should look like?”

Silence. 

“We probably missed that one about six times,” she grumbles. With a sigh, she hoists the symbol. The party approaches the doors, but as they do so, a great, loud voice booms out.

“PRESENT YOUR SYMBOL.”

The party stops. Gritting her teeth, Naomi steps up and offers up the stone cornucopia.

It crumbles to dust.

“THAT IS NOT ACCEPTABLE.”

Suddenly a blast of flame erupts from nowhere, and the airs whips instantly into broiling winds. A creature forms, a mixture of churning air and fire, and with a speed none of our heroes can match, it fires a _meteor swarm_ at the party.

_*Next Time:*_ Our heroes fight a holocaust disciple!!


----------



## hippiejediz

How will Erasmuz the ur priest handle The Trial of Faith? Will he be able to bluff his way around it or eat his way though it?


----------



## the Jester

The holocaust disciple is a blazing whirlwind of evil fire and air. Burning-hot winds whip around it as the blazing explosions of the _meteor swarm_ wash all over our heroes. Their cries of pain echo through the small vale that the shrine is in. 

Already, our heroes are pressed.

The worst-wounded scatter. Naomi _dimension doors_ away, while Ari _wild shapes_ into an eagle and scrams, but- as it will turn out- not far enough. Meanwhile, Erasmuz casts a quick _resist fire_ on himself. 

“Watch out!” Nara cries, casting a _mass cure light wounds_ on the party. “That thing is dangerous!”

“No keeding,” Naomi agrees, channeling elemental power and shrouding herself in _protection from fire._ 

But Nara’s warning comes too late. The holocaust disciple explodes in a blast of fire, raining blazing air all around the eagle-shaped Ari- and, for the second time, the druid dies!

“Ari! Nooooo!” screams Queffe.

The flaming whirlwind of death swings back towards the others, heading towards Nara, but the prophet of Coila _time slips_ away, vanishing into the future. Then Naomi hits it with a _cold bolt_. 

Queffe gives a mournful howl, then downs a _resist fire_ potion. Then she charges in, striking at it! Flames burst everywhere as it blasts back, and a terrific struggle ensues. The others jump in- with Nara reappearing in the middle of the fight and Queffe getting full use of her dervish dance ability.`Erasmuz grimly summons a _spiritual meat cleaver_ and begins chopping at the deadly elemental; then he adds a huge earth elemental to the mix. Gouts of fire keep shooting off of the monster, and it is all the party can do to hold their own!

But it is only a single monster, and against all of them- plus Erasmuz’ summoned elemental- it cannot overwhelm them. It inflicts terrible wounds on them, but one at a time they can fall back to heal a little while their companions keep the holocaust disciple busy.

Nara casts a _prayer_ and glances at Naomi. “We need to get in to that shrine!” she cries.

Naomi nods. “You’re right. And those doors are locked.” She glances at the elemental. “Hey Erasmuz,” she calls, “maybe your elemental can be of more use elsewhere!”

The ur-priest glances at the door. His eyes widen. “You’re right, buddy!” he exclaims. 

By now the holocaust disciple has been damaged badly enough that it draws away from the party for a moment and erects a _wall of fire._ Waves of cooking heat emanate from it. 

“Either way, he has to go through that wall,” Erasmuz declares. “Go on, get him!” he tells the elemental- and it plunges through and continues its attack on the disciple. The doors will have to wait a moment.

The rest of the group hurries away from the roasting heat of the _wall of fire._ Erasmuz starts creeping towards the doors, around the far side, and Queffe flits up in the air with her _broom of flying._

Nara lumbers to the side, clearing the edge of the burning wall and bringing the holocaust disciple back into view. Immediately, she casts _searing light-_ and her spell is just what it takes to finish the burning elemental wind off! It implodes with a rushing hiss, and then suddenly there is silence. 

”Victory!” cries Naomi.

“But at what cost?” asks Nara somberly, looking at Ari’s corpse sadly. “I can bring him back again, but we don’t have the diamonds- or, probably, the money to _get_ the diamonds.”

“We haven’t achieved victory yet,” Queffe reminds the others. “We still need to get in the shrine.”

“Leave that to me,” says Erasmuz. He whistles to his elemental. 

***

Ain’t no door that’s going to hold out against a few blows from a huge earth elemental. The party soon has access to the shrine. 

The layout is very simple, with no roof; grapes grow along the perimeter. The large altar is lush with carvings of foodstuffs, and is obviously set up to be used as a feast table. 

They make a great sacrifice of food and similar goods, using the halfling food spells that they have learned or have scrolls of. Erasmuz deems the time right, and _summons beer elementals._ Nara then casts _blessed beer_ upon the elemental. As the group lays out food upon the altar, Naomi garnishes it with _create gravy._

Cod, salmon, seven pounds of bacon, some rations, eggs and more eggs, half a pound of butter, ten pounds of sausage, a gallon of honey, five pounds of beef jerky, two pounds of salted pork, salted fish galore, salt and spices (including cinnamon!), an entire wild tureky, 5 onions, a cooked osquip, one of Cornbread’s muffins (the last of them!), and some ham soon cover the table. Another _create gravy_ tops it all off. 

“I can’t believe we’re leaving this behind,” says Naomi wistfully.

“Hopefully something better is just up ahead,” Nara replies. 

“You know,” says Erasmuz from the corner (where he has been poking around), “I think we can fix Ari.”

“What?” exclaims Queffe.

“This shrine has all kinds of religious implements and materials all over in it. Just in case, I started poking around.” Erasmuz holds up a glittering gemstone. “Sure enough, they have diamonds here.”

“But ‘they’ who?” wonders Nara.

“_Us,_” declares Naomi. “The halflings.”

“I can _true resurrect_ him, with this,” says Erasmuz.

“_What?_” exclaims Nara in amazement.

The ur-priest smiles. “My path is... nontraditional. It takes a while to pay off, but when it does, it pays off.”

***

Ari’s eyes open slowly. He stares at Erasmuz in confusion. “What...?”

“Hey, buddy,” Erasmuz says. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Ari says. He still sounds vaguely puzzled. “But...” He shakes his head. “Have we made it?”

“We don’t know yet. We need to go back outside.”

“All right.” 

The druid stands back up. He is regaining his orientation quickly. After only a few seconds, he nods to indicate that he is ready, and the party moves back out the doorway of the shrine, striding across the broken remains of the doors, which now lie upon the ground. 

Outside, the day remains bright. The party takes the path that their guide escorted them in on, and starts moving south. 

“Hey, look, over there,” Nara says abruptly, pointing. “Did anyone else see that? It looked like a group of figures moving into the woods. I think one of them was on a bird or something?”

Nobody else, it turns out, saw the party.

Uneasily, the party continues. They come into a clearing, and stumble upon thier guide. 

Dying.

They rush forward. “What happened?” cries Erasmuz. 

Blood is pooling beneath the guide. He smiles. His breathing is labored. “Githyanki,” he wheezes. “They have slain me.”

“I might be able to-” Nara starts, but the guide interrupts her, albeit somewhat feebly.

“My part in this is done. You must stop them. The githyanki seek to enslave those of us that have achieved the Promised Land, and to take us to a terrible realm called the Astral Plane- a realm where you never need eat, and there is no food!” The guide pauses to cough up some blood. With difficulty, he continues, “You must stop them, no matter the cost. Fight to defend your people. Fight to defend the Promised Land. What is it worth to you? Find your answer, for you must now show it.”

As the guide slowly expires in the party’s arms, Erasmuz slips to the back and casts _true sight._ All is as it appears (though Erasmuz is intrigued to note the golden Lawful Good aura around the guide).

“We can’t just let you die,” Queffe protests.

“Too late,” the guide sighs.

_*Next Time:*_ The Hidden Test!


----------



## the Jester

“He’s gone,” Nara says, a tear in her eye.

“Well-” Erasmuz pauses. “Not necessarily.”

“Do you have the diamonds to raise him, too?” asks Ari.

“No, no, no. I was thinking of something else entirely.” The ur-priest beams wickedly. “Remember the giant skeleton we had for a while?”

“NO!” Ari barks.

“You should, you were there. Remember, off the north coast of-”

“I remember just fine,” the druid cuts Erasmuz off. “We’re _not_ going to animate him.”

“Hey, I think it’s a good idea!” Naomi ejaculates.

“Of course you do. _No._ Not only was he a friend, not only is it pretty well against nature- but I _really_ don’t think that will help us earn our way into the Promised Land.”

Erasmuz sighs. “Fine, have it your way.”

“Well, what now, then?” asks Naomi.

“Who are ‘githyanki’?” asks Jawbreaker.

Everyone falls silent for a few moments. “Never heard of them,” admits Ari.

“Well, maybe _we_ haven’t,” Erasmuz declares, “but I bet I know someone who _has!_” With a flourish, he pulls forth a wand and gesticulates with it. There is a puff of smoke as a halfling bard appears!

“Hello,” Erasmuz says.

The bard looks around, obviously surprised. “Hello,” he answers uncertainly.

Erasmuz grins. “Hey, buddy, no need to worry,” he reassures the bard. “We’re the Halfling Action Militia- Clan Ham. We just want to ask you a few questions.”

“Uh, okay.”

“What can you tell us about the Promised Land?”

“Not much,” the bard replies.

“Aren’t you from there?”

“No,” the bard answers, sounding surprised. “You aren’t _in_ the Promised Land yet. Your wand summons a bard from the surrounding area.”

“How did you know about my wand?” Erasmuz demands.

“It’s in your hand.” The bard shrugs. 

“Well, you’ve got me there,” admits the ur-priest. “But you still seem to know a lot.” 

“Hey, I’m a  bard.”

“Still...” 

The bard shrugs eloquently.

***

According to Dandybright (which turns out to be the bard’s name), _githyanki_ are a strange race descended from humans that were enslaved by mind flayers. After many generations, they grew psionically powerful and, eventually, broke free of the illithid tyranny. By the time all was said and done, they had migrated to the Astral Plane- which, as the party’s guide had said with his dying breaths, is a timeless plane... _with no food or need to eat._

A Halfing Hell, if ever there was one. 

Worse yet, according to Dandybright, the githyanki had somehow forged a terrible alliance with red dragons. 

“Dragons!” exclaims Ari. 

“We have to help other halflings,” Jawbreaker says firmly. “We kill githyanki and dragons. We do whatever we have to.”

The guide’s last words repeat in the party’s minds: _What is it worth to you? You must now show it._

“I’ll fight to the death,” Naomi says firmly.

Erasmuz is lost in a dark chain of thoughts. _What if,_ he wonders, _to get in, we must die?_

Naomi hisses in surprise. “Look!” she exclaims, pointing to the sky. 

Three large, blood-colored winged forms are patrolling over the woods not far from our heroes.

The party darts under cover. They will have ample opportunity to do battle; but they all agree, let it be on their terms. 

Jawbreaker grunts. 

“What is it, Chief?” asks Ari.

“Watch them. Figure out where ground troops go. Then ambush,” Jawbreaker replies.

“I’m on it,” Ari says. He turns into an eagle and flaps his way into the sky. He stays clear of the dragons but soon returns with a report of where a fairly small party of githyanki are. 

“We need to be careful,” Naomi reminds the others. “If they’re psionic, they can probably call for help from their friends telepathically.”

“Let’s go,” Jawbreaker commands. 

The party moves out. Guided by Ari, they attempt to intercept the enemy’s path far enough ahead of them that they can set up an ambush. They conceal themselves along the edge of the path that the githyanki are following, with Ari scouting in eagle form to ensure that they are in the right place- and to ensure that they are able to cast preparatory spells at the right time. Soon the eagle alerts the others that the foe is near; everyone casts spells, manifests powers and otherwise prepares themselves. 

Once the githyanki are on the path right in front of where the party lies in wait, the trap springs! Erasmuz opens the combat with a _destruction,_ which reduces one of the githyanki to black ash. The battle is then truly joined, with the other githyanki fighting for their lives against a terrific halfling onslaught. _Fire storms, fireballs,_ massive axe blows and more- our heroes unleash a terrific amount of punishment on the sallow-skinned githyanki.

They reply in kind. The githyanki are no novices to combat; they are deadly warriors and warlocks. The yellow-skinned creatures wield deadly, wavy-bladed bastard swords, and soon they drip with halfling blood. The githyanki arcanists fire strange eldritch energies at the party, seeking to bring them down. For a few moments the melee looks evenly matched, but then Nara catches one of the githyanki with an _impeding permission_ spell, and that seems to turn the tide.

Then one of the githyanki flees out of the melee, then stops, concentrating. Naomi’s nostrils flare as she detects the scent of burning metal in the air, and she realizes what’s happening. “He’s communicating telepathically!” she exclaims. “We have to kill him, fast!”

“I’ve got it,” Erasmuz says, and casts another _flame strike_ stolen from one god or another. The githyanki is blasted down and destroyed in a pillar of holy fire.

“But was it in time?” Nara wonders.

Ari kills another of the githyanki with a combination of bolts from a _call lightning_, but even as he does so, he gives a loud, despairing eagle cry. At least one of the mounted dragons is now headed for the battle scene.

On the ground, our heroes finally put the rest of the githyanki party to the sword. Panting, they wipe their weapons and brow. “Now what?” wonders Naomi.

“Psst! Over here!” cries a voice in Halfling.

The party turns to look. The Acorn brothers, the halflings that our heroes met during the Trial of Drinking and that defeated the party in the Trial of Cleverness, are standing next to a shimmering portal.

“Well, come on!” cries Nullick Acorn. “We have to get out of here. This portal will take us back to the outside world.”

“We can’t abandon the Promised Land to these... these no-eaters,” declares Naomi, jiggling her many chins angrily. 

“You fools, you can’t defeat them all! There are too many of them, and _dragons!_”

“You’ll die,” Torck Acorn adds. “This isn’t worth your lives.”

“Yes it is,” Chief Jawbreaker snorts. “Promised Land is _here, now._ We not run. _You_ run away.” He glares at them. _“Pussies.”_

“There are more githyanki coming,” Torck says. “The portal is here. You can go through it any time to escape.” He glances skyward and grows pale. Just then, a large shadow moves across the part as something red flies overhead, and with a strangled cry, he darts through the portal and vanishes.

“Please, do the smart thing!” pleads Nullick, and then he leaps after his brother. 

“Never,” Naomi says severely. “I will _never_ do the smart thing!”

_*Next Time:*_ The last halfling update! Will our heroes stand against the githyanki and the dragons? Will they reach the Promised Land? Find out- next time!!


----------



## the Jester

A dragon would be bad enough, but with a puissant githyanki knight mounted on it?

And to make matters worse- _two_ red dragons, _each_ with a githyanki rider!

Our heroes prepare grimly as the enemy circles overhead for a moment. The shimmers of multiple _protection from fire_ spells wash over the party, even as Nara hurriedly heals Jawbreaker’s still extant wounds. 

Then the dragons dive in. 

Nara blasts the one to her left with a _flame strike,_ hitting both it and the knight on its back. The dragon belches flames in response, covering Jawbreaker, Naomi and Nara. Their wards hold back the damage, but only just; and Naomi’s _energy retort_ misses the dragon in turn. 

The second dragon banks over in a long curve, breathing another gout of fire at the party. Erasmuz tumbles away, evading damage, and once again Naomi’s psychic protections keep her safe. 

“We can’t take a lot of those,” Naomi says.

“I know,” Nara replies tersely. 

Naomi fires a _cold blast,_ but it goes wide, missing her target. She grumbles to herself, while the others start to spread out a little, with Chief Jawbreaker even drawing his bow. 

One of the dragons gives an evil laugh and casts _dispel magic,_ and Nara feels her protections shatter. _Uh-oh,_ she thinks. The roars in mirth- and then a bolt of lightning from Ari crackles across both dragons. The dragons roar in anger- and attack, again using their breath weapons in a strafing attack that lets them keep their distance. Angrily, Jawbreaker climbs up a tree, but even so, the dragons remain out of reach. “Cowards!” he yells. 

But it is Nara, calling upon the power of Coila, who gets them within reach. Even as one of the dragons banks and climbs away from the group after unleashing another hellish torrent of flames, the halfling priestess _suggests_ to the knight riding it that he “land and dismount.” Immediately, it becomes apparent that this is no simple master-mount arrangement, as the githyanki and the dragon begin to argue over whether or not to land.

“You fool!” the dragon sneers in Githyanki. “That creature has influenced your mind. I will show you how we land for her!”

And with that, the dragon crashes down atop Nara, crushing her to the ground and threatening to squish her into paste! She gives a muffled cry, but like her, it is smothered beneath the scaled belly of the dragon.

Ari blasts both dragon and rider with another of the lightning bolts from his _greater call lightning_ spell, but they remain on top of his friend. Meanwhile, in the air, the other dragon craftily casts _protection from cold_, then swings in towards Jawbreaker (who is still atop the tree). With a nasty grin on its face, the githyanki knight aims a mighty blow for the bear warrior, slicing him across the shoulder. 

Erasmuz, meanwhile, tries summoning the aid of a huge air elemental. He adds a _spiritual weapon_ to the mix- anything to add more attacks on his side! _Those dragons are a terror,_ he thinks. _We’ve hardly scratched them! And the githyanki are just starting to cut loose!_

Jawbreaker, meanwhile, replies to the knight that cut him by turning into a bear and crushing his forearm with a massive bite. The two struggle for a moment as the dragon twists its head to deal with Erasmuz’ air elemental with another cone of fire. The githyanki hacks at Jawbreaker, but the halfling-cum-bear is enraged and in no mood to trifle with him. He tears at the knight with savage force, slaying him and then turning on the dragon, clawing at it as well!

Meanwhile, the dragon that’s laying on top of Naomi begins a frenzied melee with Nara. “Get off of her, you bitch!” the Coilite cries. The dragon only licks its chops and snickers and tears into her. She lands a few morning star blows, but it is immediately apparent who is getting the better of whom, for its tail whips around and smashes her across the legs, almost tripping her, while it bites her leg and claws at her torso. Desperate, she casts _cure critical wounds_ on the defensive, healing what damage she can, and then raises her shield.

Beneath the dragon that is trying its hardest to kill Nara, Naomi can barely breathe. It’s hard to focus under the monstrous weight that is crushing her. _But I only need to focus for a moment, and if I don’t, I’ll never eat again,_ she tells herself. It is enough to give her the strength she needs- and she _dimension doors_ free! She gasps in a great breath of air, trying to recover her strength and throw her power back to the fight. 

The remaining githyanki, still under the influence of the _suggestion_ spell, dismounts expertly without even slowing down. He whips his sword into a guard position and is then swept up into a whirlwind as another, even _bigger_ air elemental appears- this one summoned by Ari. Another bolt of lightning shoots down, catching him in its discharge, and the githyanki dances with blue sparks and dies in the whirlwind.

“We only need to take out the two dragons now!” Nara cries, and the one she is desperately defending herself from descends upon her like a clawed avalanche, eviscerating her before tearing her literally to pieces. 

“Uh, I could use some healing,” Naomi calls. And she pulls out her last, best remaining trick.

Not so long ago, the party met a small, squirrel-like race called the _kercpa._ They helped the kercpa with a problem they had- the local giant, who by long tradition the kercpa bought off with acorn beer, was suddenly unhappy with his beer. This turned out to be because someone was peeing in it, and ‘someone’ turned out to be the fairies, who had been offended by a lack of basic considerations as well as the presence of an evil druid in their area. Once our heroes cleaned up the mess, Naomi found herself with a single lock of green hair growing from a mole. The fey touch is upon her. She made friends with them; she hopes, hopes, hopes that they might hear and help. _They’re everywhere,_ she thinks hopefully. 

Now she plucks it out, and hurls it down, her favorite mole; and it grows and grows and grows- into a squirrel big enough to eat a small house in one bite. MEGALOSQUIRREL. 

And then one of the dragons breathes on them both, and Naomi burns up like a piece of paper. She is blasted completely to ash; and the megalosquirrel, alas, vanishes. 

Ari keeps pounding at the dragons with lightning, but his throat is tight. _This is bad,_ he thinks. _Bad, bad bad bad. We can’t let them get in to the Promised Land!_ He flies further up- he’s in hawk form- and almost cheers when Jawbreaker deals punishing damage to one of the dragons, almost killing it. Then he gives a squawk of despair when one of the dragons tears the bear warrior apart and then both full attack Erasmuz, killing him as well.

_Bad,_ Ari repeats to himself. But he won’t back down. Instead, he circles back down, casts _harm_ and flashes in, dealing more damage in one simple touch than any other single attack has managed. As he speeds away from the injured dragon, he hits it with another lightning bolt- 

And it falls!

Now he _really_ wants to cheer, except for the fact that it’s just _him, just Ari, against a freaking dragon. 

Ari burns.

***

The halflings’ guide smiles. “Well done,” he beams at them. “And welcome!”

“It’s the afterlife, isn’t it?” asks Erasmuz. “We’re all dead, aren’t we?”

The guide looks amused. “Oh, no,” he replies, “not at all, not at all. You just passed the Hidden Test- the final test. It was all illusion, all of it- yet real enough to fool you, with the power of destiny behind it.”

Our heroes look around in wonderment. All around them is- Paradise. 

It’s true. The trues really do bear pies. There are peach cobblers, ripe right now, ripe for the plucking. Rows of muffins, growing huge like cabbage. Bushes, sprouting a mix of berries dusted with confectioner’s sugar, chocolate brownies and caramel drops.

“But it’s not without a cost,” their guide tells them. The party realizes suddenly that there are dozens, maybe hundreds, of others around them, most- but not all- halflings.  “No, we all have to pay our dues.”

“What do you mean?” asks Ari.

“This place is a refuge, a place of rest, but it is hard to reach. Only the mightiest of our heroes make it here.” Pause a beat. “Did you wonder why?”

“No,” Nara answers honestly. “Why?”

“There will come a time, far in the future, when everything is at stake for our people- when their very continuation as a species will be threatened. Unless something can be done for them, unless we can save them, our people will be driven to extinction.”

The party looks around wide-eyed. The halflings around them- and the others, who have taken on halfling proportions- are all formidable looking. 

“In the meantime, we rest. We eat. We drink, and make merry, and make love.” Their guide grins. “My name’s Tom, by the way- I can tell you that now. You’ll all be the guide for some folk or other at one time or another, too- and play most of the other roles. It’s what we do to earn our keep, you might say.”

Tentatively, Jawbreaker wanders to the side and sniffs at an ear of corn. It smells delicious, and it is already roasted and buttered! 

“Welcome home, my brothers and sisters,” Tom says, his grin widening. 

“Clan Ham,” cries Naomi. “Clan Ham!”

*“CLAN HAM!!!”* the others echo.



*THE END.*_


----------



## Brain

Ah the halflings.  Such a fun campaign with great memories.  Many many meals and struggles and meals and feasts and meals.  Thanks to the Jester for writing up the story hour 

Here are the characters I played in the saga:
Timothy (the 3 wisdom sorcerer/exalted arcanist with a heart of gold)
Ezeekiel Dandybanter (paladin/freedom fighter*)
Lundey Goodwheel (wizard/artificer* and war wagon mechanic)
Erasmuz (the 



Spoiler



none of your business, buddy


)

*Cydra homebrew prestige classes


----------



## SeldomSeen

This was an awesome and fun campaign to play in.  So many dnd conventions got turned on their head.  A simple crossroads encounter got turned into a major turning point in the campaign, magic items were tossed aside in favor of a good feast, dwarven mating rituals were revealed, and a great time was had by all.  Thanks Jester.  

Played 
Momma Flapjacks, Cleric
Chief Jawbreaker,  Barbarian/Bear Warrior.


----------



## Alcar

*bout time*

In the words of Tron: "I can get some money for this".


----------



## the Jester

Just a quick bump, since I got a PM asking about Of Sound Mind (which I always say has the most satisfying conclusion of any module that I have ever run!). 

Even though it's an edition out of date, I still cannot recommend that module highly enough! Many thanks to Piratecat for writing it, and here's hoping that someday he writes the sequel!


----------

