# Aftermath - Campaign after the War



## Rybaer

This is copied over from the old message boards with most of the commentary pulled out to streamline it.  -Rybaer


Aftermath – A D&D Campaign



First, some background about the game.  I decided to set it in the ruins of a war-torn nation.  What had once been a continent full of prosperous and (mostly) political stable nations and city-states is now a wild and dangerous land.  Some twenty years prior to the beginning of the game, a group of wizards known collectively as the Black Hand raised and led a unified army of the dark races (goblin, orc, troll, giant, etc.) on a destructive rampage from the North.  Over the course of several years, they pushed further to the South, conquering nations and crushing armies until the Southern city-states finally banded together to hold and repel the army.  At this point, little is clear as to what exactly happened.  The wizards of the Black Hand purportedly disappeared and the dark armies retreated northward.

Given the lack of resources and men needed to pursue the Dark Armies, the Southern city-states left them unchecked.  Bands of orcs and goblins enslaved the native survivors of the lands they had conquered.  For the next ten to twenty years, the dark races ruled over the central and northern portions of the land.  Given their nature, however, the dark races began fighting amongst themselves.  In the confusion of the fighting and the weakening of the dark races’ numbers, numerous slave revolts took place.  Now, fully twenty years after the beginning of the war, small and isolated cities of former slaves once again reclaim their homelands in a wild and dangerous area.

DM aside – I concocted this back story for a number of reasons.  First, the ruins and mysteries resultant from the war provide ample opportunity for exploration and adventure.  Second, the lands outside their home are dangerous and worthy of caution.  Third, the players could realistically play any race and character class and work together in an easily explained unit.  (No awkward explanations about how a half-orc fighter would learn to harmoniously work with an elvish wizard and a dwarven paladin, or whatever the players’ hearts desired.) I basically told them that they had grown up the children of slaves and were now in a community that actively encouraged all its members to pursue military, arcane, or other useful pursuits for the safety of their home.  Their community included refugees from all the “good” races, including the half-orc offspring resulting from the rape of slaves by their overseers.

The game begins with the group of five celebrating the recognition of their full adulthood within their community.  While I won’t try to publish each character in full detail (the players may choose to do so later if they wish), I will give a brief summary of each as they began:

Amblin – human monk who spends most of his time cleaning his master’s hut.  Free spirited character with a love for dogs.

Boaz – half-orc fighter who considers combat an art form.  He has a  penchant for poking at things with his sword (unfortunate, as time will eventually tell).

Nigel – elvish ranger who is the closest the group has to an official leader.  Stealthy and very talented with a  bow.

Rurik – dwarvish cleric of Moradin with a typically dwarven taste for ale.  He will find that dwarvish clerics tend to be better at fighting than turning undead.

Zalman – human wizard (conjurer) with white hair (from an unfortunate alchemy experiment) and a familiar owl named Hooty.  He earned a bit of ire from the others when they discover he is unable to cast “Identify.”


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Updated 1/15/02 -

This campaign has been running for over a year now and has developed considerably.  What is posted thus far (through Jan), represents about about 2/3 of what they've done so far.  Most of the original characters are still in play, though several have had more brushes with death than they care to recount.  They've also learned that they may or may not be tied into a prophecy involving the Black Hand, the very wizards who led the destruction of most of the lands.



-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Adventure #1- Introduction and First Assignment

Our heroes begin their story in a small city of about 3,000 folks, all mixed races, slaves who had successfully revolted and earned their freedom from the orcs and other evil races some fifteen years prior.  In the aftermath of the great wars brought on by the Black Hand, they are almost completely unaware of the fate of any others and have no contact with any other cities or towns of any significant size.

On the day of the Spring Celebration, Lord Stephen, leader of their home city of New Selmar, summons the group to join him in his hall for a private audience.  On this day, the five of them are among those recognized as full adult members of the community, and as some of the most promising in each of their respective disciplines:  Monk, Wizard, Fighter, Ranger, and Cleric.  When they meet Lord Stephen, there is also another lady present - one they do not recognize as a member of the community.  She is a half elf with dark brown skin, short white/grey hair, and strikingly attractive features.  She is dressed in fine but durable travel clothing and has the bearing of one of some great power.  She also wears the symbol of Ehlonna, goddess of woodlands, which both Nigel and Rurik recognize.  Her name, as the Lord introduces her, is Shele.  Stephen explains that she was instrumental in helping the slaves of their community rise up against the orcs to earn their freedom.

Cutting to the chase over wine and ale, the Lord asks the group to investigate the disappearance of two hunters to the northeast of the city.  Additionally, a farmer reported that two of his dogs have also disappeared in that area and that his son reported sighting some strange figures walking along the hills nearby at dusk one night.  The Lady Shele offers a blessing upon each of the group and they are then dismissed.

The group is up early the following morning to visit the farmer.  Before leaving, however, the Lady Shele approaches them and again wishes them luck and urges them to be careful.  She also offers each a small gift, something to help them on their journeys.  (DM note – I had just gotten engaged a couple days before the game, so I decided to grace each of the players with a free low-level magic item in celebration.)  From a Bag of Holding she produced an item for each.  Amblin, the monk, was given a Robe of Useful Items;  Boaz, the fighter, was given a jar of Sovereign Glue;  Nigel, the ranger, was given an enchanted suit of studded leather armor;  Rurik, the cleric, was given Boots of Elvenkind;  Zalman, the wizard, was given a Ring of Jumping.  Thanking the mysterious half-elf, they departed the city.

The farmer whose dogs had gone missing has little more information to offer the group, but does point them toward the area his son spotted the figures.  The kid, a boy of no more than 8 years, is enamored with the group and the interesting gear they carry.  He leads them to the spot.  While en route, two of the group offer to help rescue a cow that has been stuck in some deep mud created by the heavy spring rains (they bring much of the mud along with them).

The ranger quickly picks up a trail of footprints that lead toward the woods to the east.  They follow them to the woods where they quickly become too difficult to follow.  Here, however, they spot a pair of hobgoblins with a dog in the distance.  After a brief discussion, they decide that the hobgoblins can’t be up to any good, so they decide to attack.  Rurik, the cleric, boldly and loudly leads the charge (in spite of being the slowest in the group).  They engage the hobgoblins, though the cleric nearly died in the process when a hobgoblin scored a critical hit with a heavy crossbow with the very first attack role of the campaign.  (DM note – one house rule I like to use is that of Fate Points, borrowed from the Warhammer RPG.  Each player gets two, and they can only be used to cheat certain death.  The intent is mostly to help keep low-level characters alive through fluke combats…like critical hits with heavy crossbows.  Besides, this was our first foray into 3rd edition and we hadn’t quite gotten the feel for balancing characters against monsters and other encounters yet.)  So, rewind from the first attack…Rurik sees the hobgoblins’ large dog leaping toward his chest when suddenly its head explodes in a cloud of blood and tissue from the hobgoblin’s crossbow that had been intended for the dwarf.  After a short skirmish, one hobgoblin is dead and they revive the other just long enough to interrogate it.  It insists that they are members of a small band that has no interest in raiding New Selmar (too big and well defended).  Rather, they are out in the woods searching for a renegade - one of their own, apparently.  They both bear the insignia of a gray frog.

As they had lost the trail when it entered the woods, they return to the fields and follow it back in the direction from which it came.  Eventually, it comes to a stop at the side of a small mound where someone has obviously been digging into the side of it and then backfilling it with dirt.  They dig in and find that it is a mass grave - members of different good races, presumably from the war.  This is known to have been the site of a large battle in the war (when the old independent city of Selmar fell), so this is not unusual.  Who was digging into it and for what purpose remains unknown.

Again the group follows the trail to the woods.  This time, they veer a bit south and follow a sandy-banked stream into the woods in the same direction as the trail had been leading.  Not more than a couple hundred yards into the woods, the trail reappears along the shoreline and is much easier to follow in the soft sand.  There are at least three prints - two human sized, though one is unusually thin and deep, and one is very large humanoid.  There is also evidence that something was dragged along behind them.  

With dusk descending, they begin to prepare camp.  While Boaz, Rurik, and Zalman work on the camp, Amblin and Nigel explore a bit further down the stream.  They soon spot a skeleton and a zombie carrying digging tools and a large sack walking along the shore in their direction.  Both are quickly dispatched and disposed of.  The zombie, Nigel notes, was once one of the missing hunters.  The two follow the trail back to its source - a cave in the side of a small ridge not much more than two hundred yards from their camp.  They decide to rest anyway and keep careful watch during the night.  No disturbances that evening.

The following morning, the monk runs back to town to report and learns that most of the town's fighting forces are out dealing with some orc raids.  The blacksmith, the only council member in town, advises him to return and determine more accurately the source of the undead and to deal with it if possible.  Meanwhile, the others have been closely watching the cave, but have seen nothing.  They decide to go in.

The cave follows a small trickle of a stream through a long, narrow chamber.  Toward the back, about ten large (3ft) spiders drop down on them when they set their webbing on fire.  Several are bitten, but all manage to shrug off the effects of the weak poison.  Once dealt with, they then proceed further back through a narrow passage where they trigger a simple rockslide trap and suffer minor injuries.  Watching more carefully, they manage to avoid and disarm another similar trap.  Shortly thereafter, they spot light ahead and hear a voice chanting.

Just as they prepare to advance, two zombie dogs (yeah, figured you’d see them again, eh?) run down the hall and attack, causing a few minor injuries.  Figuring surprise is now out, they charge into the room.  Here, they find four human-sized skeletons and an ogre zombie.  Further back in an alcove is a hobgoblin in black robes behind a table with a lit candle on it.  The battle begins in earnest.  

Nigel, after popping an arrow into the cleric, is hit with a fear spell.  While trying to flee, the orge pounds him and he falls unconscious.  The others engage the skeletons and the zombie.  Zalman summons two celestial dogs (who occupy and score hits on the zombie) and also drops a magic missile into the cleric.  At this point, the cleric casts darkness and is lost from sight. Amblin produces another pair of war dogs from his Robe of Useful Items to join the fight.  The skeletons are quickly destroyed and the ogre zombie, though very tough, also submits to final death.  Rurik begins healing the Nigel while the others pursue the cleric into the darkness.

Surprisingly, the darkness only extends a few feet before they can see clearly again (as if it’s a wall or shell of darkness a few feet thick).  Upon entering the lit area, Boaz somehow "knows" that there is a passage behind one of the tapestries hanging on the wall and he runs down it in pursuit of the cleric - somehow managing to spot and avoid another rockfall trap on the way.  Zalman checks the material on the desk and finds a scroll and a map - interestingly, he can read the words on the map, despite not knowing the language.  When Amblin and his dogs (from the Robe) join Zalman, they notice that each other has a mysterious and unrecognizable mark on his forehead (the dogs do not).

Boaz, emerging back into the daylight, manages to run down the hobgoblin cleric before he is able to escape across a deep gorge with a makeshift plank bridge.  They have a short, bloody fight, with Boaz triumphing.  He drags the body back into the cave to be looted.

All said and done, they find that the cleric had a magical light mace and a magical amulet in the shape of a silver spider.  The candle on the table also radiates a strong magical aura.  When the candle is blown out, the marks on everyone's foreheads disappear and they are unable to read the map.  (They believe this map to be of the ruins of Old Selmar, only about ten miles to the north.  It is also marked with the location of guards, the location of the barracks and officers quarters, an unknown named person, patrol routes, and a big arrow pointing to “Cards!!”)  They also find a small wax-sealed wood case under the pool of water which contains some coin and gems.

Loot in hand, they return back to the city to report on what they found.  They surmise that the hobgoblin cleric is the one that the patrol with the dog was looking for.  Why, though, is beyond them at the moment.  Also, why the hobgoblin would have a detailed map of the ruins and what the “Cards!!” are remain a topic of speculation.


Next time…Off to visit the hobgoblins, Twiggy, and “Cards!!”.


-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Adventure #2 - The Steel Toads

Upon the group’s return to New Selmar, they learn that the majority of the town’s capable fighting force is still out dealing with the orc threat.  All of their respective masters are gone, so they seek the advice of the master blacksmith and council member.  After recounting their tale of the hobgoblin cleric and his undead minions, the blacksmith congratulates them on a job well done and then suggests that they go scout out the ruins of Old Selmar to assess the strength of the hobgoblin force occupying it.  They all agree that based on the map they recovered that this cleric was interested in retrieving these “Cards!!” from the hobgoblin captain’s quarters.

They set off on foot and approach the ruins from the northwest in the mid-afternoon.  While observing the ruins from a respectable distance awaiting nightfall, they spot a scrawny gobbling carrying a small sack and walking toward the ruins.  Amblin and Nigel sneak up and frighten the pathetic creature while the others prevent any avenue of escape.  He seems sufficiently frightened to answer their questions.  They learn that his name is Twiggy and that he is a slave to the hobgoblins.  He mostly cooks for them and was out in the woods collecting mushrooms and spring berries (which the contents of his sack verifies).  He is extremely timid and volunteers all the information he can if they’ll spare his life.

Through further questioning, they learn that the hobgoblin force occupies part, but not all of the ruins.  They share it with some unknown, large, gray’ish colored humanoid.  The hobgoblins themselves number little more than about thirty, though typically a dozen at a time are out of the ruins on various patrols or assignments.  Little more useful information is forthcoming, though, as Twiggy seems to genuinely know little about the hobgoblins’ objectives.  The group decides to treat the frail goblin with compassion and tie him up to one of Amblin’s wardogs and promise to let him go when they return.  Twiggy doesn’t look happy with the arrangement, but the dogs don’t immediately eat him, so he settles in to wait.  With that, the group waits another couple hours for darkness to settle before setting out.

Using a ladder from Amblin’s Robe of Useful Items, they climb over the wall near an unoccupied tower.  They don’t think there are many hobgoblins about, based on Twiggy’s information, the guard positions indicated on the map, and Hooty’s surveillance.  Regardless, they proceed quietly and cautiously – particularly for the humans who cannot see very well without risking a light source.  Hooty had also spotted the “mysterious, large gray humanoid” in one corner of the ruins, but was unable to convey any more useful of a description than that, so the group just avoids that area altogether.

The ruins of Old Selmar are just that, the ruins of a mostly destroyed city.  Orcs had occupied it for a time after the war until the slaves revolted.  The slaves decided it would be easier to build an entirely new city rather than reconstruct this one – especially given that it was too big for them to adequately man the walls should they need to repel a sizeable attacking force.  Few houses and buildings within the crumbling outer walls are still suitable for habitation.

Nigel and Amblin, the two quietest members of the party, scout ahead.  Near the captain’s quarters they are only able to spot two guards.  One stands next to a door leading into the captain’s two story house while the other is warming himself by a small fire not twenty feet away.  This house and the two barracks buildings nearby are among the few buildings they’ve seen that are still standing.  After observing for a bit and not seeing any other activity, they bring the others up.  They decide to let Nigel try to enter the captain’s quarters (where they hope to find whatever the “Cards!!” are) through a second story window on the backside of the building.  Another ladder from Amblin’s Robe will facilitate this.  Meanwhile, the others will be nearby and Boaz will hide a ways back and hold the nearest guard in the sights of his bow.

Everything is going smoothly in the early execution of their plan.  Nigel shimmies up the ladder and opens the window quietly.  It opens into a small room with two closed doors and an open stairwell leading down.  There is a faint light coming from the first floor.  Underneath the window is a table with a few sheets of rough paper and a coal stick for writing.  He hears nothing, and indicates to the others that he’s going in.

Of course, the plan has to unravel at some point.  Might as well be sooner rather than later.  Nigel’s player fumbles on his move silent check to enter the room.  DM interpretation:  the table was actually missing one leg and collapses when Nigel puts his full weight upon it.  He hears noise coming from behind one of the two doors leading from the room, so he quickly and quietly opens and slips into the other room.

Below, the guard standing near the door is startled by the noise from around the back of the house.  As he moves to look around the side, Boaz decides it is a good time to release that arrow he’d been holding.  It misses and plunks into the side of the house right next to the guard.  The hobgoblin turns and spots Boaz immediately.  Both he and the guard who had been standing next to the fire start moving quickly in Boaz’s direction…right into view of the rest of the party.  A quick fight breaks out and the two hobgoblins are quickly killed.  Boaz and Rurik drag the bodies around to the back of the house while Amblin races up the ladder to support Nigel.  Zalman, meanwhile, sets himself up next to the door that the guard had been leaning against and tries his best impression of a hobgoblin on watch.

Amblin finds himself facing the wrong end of a longsword being wielded by a large, ugly, and grumpy looking hobgoblin.  With his monk’s reflexes, he avoids getting hit and is able to move fully into the room.  The two square off against each other with neither having a real advantage.  Amblin, despite having poor human vision, can see well enough to note that Nigel is nowhere to be seen.  Nigel, having snuck into the other room on the second floor, is quickly searching through what appears to be an unoccupied and scarcely furnished bedroom for anything that might resemble these “Cards!!” they’re looking for.  Unfortunately, he finds nothing.

Outside, Rurik and Boaz decide to enter the first floor of the house through the side door that Zalman is posing by.  Rurik doesn’t even bother checking to see if it’s locked and bashes it open.  The pair fly in and find a closed door directly ahead of them, a table with chairs and a lit candle to the right, the front door to the house also to the right, and a staircase leading up.  Hearing the fight upstairs and seeing no other targets, they race upstairs.

Zalman closes the door behind his companions and tries to act non-chalantly as a pair of hobgoblins call out from one of the nearby buildings and start walking toward him.  One has a large flair, the other a brutish sword.  Zalman, not speaking goblin, grunts back at them.  The pair doesn’t really seem to be buying it, though.  One splits off and makes for the front door while the sword-toting one heads straight for Zalman.  (At this point, as a DM, I’m worried…here is a tough hobgoblin with 2 levels in fighter heading straight for the party’s 2nd level wizard who has no support.)  Zalman realizes his predicament and starts casting a spell.  The hobgoblin recognizes this and charges, an attack that Zalman just barely sidesteps.  Then, his spell goes off and a celestial dog appears right behind the hobgoblin in flanking position.  The dog takes a sizeable chunk out of the warrior’s leg and Zalman lands a cracking blow with his quarterstaff.  One more feeble attack is all the hobgoblin can manage before the wizard and dog pair finish him off, after which the dog promptly poofs in thin air.

Upstairs, while the hobgoblin is clearly a tough foe, once outnumbered three-to-one he is quickly overwhelmed.  Nigel finishes his cursory search of the first room, he exits, takes note of all the fighting, then promptly goes into the room from which the hobgoblin came and begins inspecting that one while his companions finish the fight.  He finds only a nice dagger, some clothing and armor, and little else.

The flail-wielding hobgoblin had just begun to open the front door when Boaz, fresh off the fight with the captain upstairs and on his way back down, lands a crushing blow to the poor creature.  Amblin and Rurik strip the captain of his ring and sword (the only possessions he had with him during the fight) and race back downstairs with Nigel shortly behind.  They break open the only remaining door on the main floor and find a room stuffed with assorted supplies, foodstuffs, arms, armor, chests and barrels.  While Zalman and Boaz keep watch outside, the others quickly rummage through the chests and bags.  In one, they find a leather pouch about the size of a loaf of bread.  Inside is a neat stack of large animal scales, each with a unique picture painted on one side.  Rurik quickly discerns a moderately powerful magical aura about it.  Deciding this is what they were looking for, they make haste to get out before they are surrounded by hobgoblins.  Almost as an afterthought, they leave behind the spider-shaped amulet that they had looted from the cleric’s body in hopes that it might lead the remaining hobgoblins to think that it was he who had brought the attack.

Zalman and Boaz spot motion from the barracks and see the door open and a curious hobgoblin’s head poke out looking around.  With a couple bodies in sight, it doesn’t take long for quite a commotion to begin stirring.  The group slips out the side door and hastily makes it back to the ladder they had left at the wall.  As they go back over it, the alarm is raised and a pair of hobgoblin guards armed with heavy crossbows in a nearby tower spot their fleeing forms.  They launch a few shots, but none connect.

The group returns to find Twiggy still tied up to the dogs.  He seems relieved when they untie him and don’t go back on their word.  While not killing him, they don’t want him going back to the hobgoblins.  So, they bring him along as they hike quickly back to New Selmar.  At the gate, they leave Twiggy with a few of the guards with instructions he is to be watched but treated well.  With only a few hours of night left, they return to their respective quarters and sleep.

Most of the town’s fighting force had still not returned from harrying the orc raiders, so the group once again reported in their findings to the blacksmith.  He commended them on a bold adventure and another job well done.  He suggested they talk with Sangelais, the elven master wizard, to try to discern the nature of the “Cards!!” that they had recovered. 

Zalman led the group off to his master with all the loot they had collected.  Sangelais was intrigued by the items, particularly the deck.  After a few hours of study, she concluded this about the items they had found thus far:  the ring worn by the hobgoblin captain was a Ring of Protection, his sword and dagger were not magical;  the scroll found on the cleric’s table was a Animate Dead priestly scroll; the candle found beside it was a Candle of True Seeing, though much of it had already been consumed; the light mace carried by the cleric was only lightly enchanted;  the Cards, as best as she could discern, was a weaker variant of the fabled Deck of Many Things.  She explained how the original Deck bestowed upon the drawer of a card a random magical effect – sometimes good, sometimes bad.

Not all in the group were too keen on trying to draw from it.  Zalman stepped up first and drew a card, pulling “The Mule,” and was bestowed with the ability to effortlessly carry heavy loads.  Sangelais, herself a curious elf, boldly drew next.  She pulled “The Chameleon,” bestowing her with the ability to turn herself into any mundane animal and back once.  Nigel drew next and pulled “The Mongoose,” permanently making him more nimble (+1 Dex).  Boaz, a bit suspicious but impressed with the powers granted to his companions, pulled next.  He drew “The Gazelle,” granting him amazing speed when running (double normal move, but only when performing an all out sprint).  Amblin, ever the fickle one, was indecisive but finally caved into chance.  He pulled “The Penguin,” granting him resistance to cold temperatures (equivalent of a Ring of Cold Resistance).  Rurik was the last of the group to decide if he would draw or not.  Suspicious of strange magic, he was hesitant.  However, everyone else had drawn something beneficial, so he decided to tempt fate and drew “The Chimera.”  Instantly, his head began transforming into that of a lion. 

(Note:  this magic item is the Totem Deck of Many Things as presented in Dragon #271.  I liked using it as it is much less unbalancing than the original while still offering that bit of random chance…the gamble.) 

This transformation stunned the group, for it was quite a shocking change compared with the innocuous effects of the others’ draws.  Rurik himself was a bit too stunned to even know how to react.  He found he could still talk and he otherwise still felt like himself.  Shaken, though, he asked Sangelais if she could undo his unfortunate transformation.  She tried a couple of spells, but found that the magic that had worked the change upon him was too powerful for her modest skills to overcome.  Rurik, dejected, returned to his uncle’s makeshift shrine to Moradin to pray for guidance.

The others were about to try their luck at a second draw when the deck disappeared without a trace.  Sangelais figured it was just part of the oddity of the deck and left it at that.  The group speculated on why the cleric had been so intent upon getting the deck for himself.  Whether to draw from it himself or to sell it to the highest bidder, they concluded that they would probably never know.

While waiting for the rest of their masters to return from the orc raids, each went about his daily activities.  Zalman studied up some new spells.  Amblin cleaned his master’s hut and worked on repairing the roof.  Nigel practiced archery.  Boaz ran laps around the town to test out his new powers and then returned to the battle hall were he and the other warriors often practiced.  When Boaz’s master returned, he was given a sound beating and told not to act like a fool running around the grounds like a child at play.

 Rurik, deep in prayer, barely heard the door to his uncle’s house open.  There was no mistaking the exclamation of horror when his uncle saw the lion-headed cleric kneeling before the alter to Moradin, however.  Rurik jumped up and tried to explain.  It was only then that his uncle even realized that it was his nephew and he lowered the warhammer that he had been prepared to use.  No explanation was good enough for his strict uncle, also a cleric of Moradin, and he was cursed out for tempting fate with such unknown magic.  In a fit of rage, Rurik’s uncle tossed him out of the house and forbade him to return.

Devastated, Rurik sought solace and guidance with Zalman.  He hoped that the wizard or his master might know of a way to undo this curse.  While Sangelais was convinced that canceling the effect was beyond her abilities, she thought that a powerful cleric or wizard might be able to do it.  The Lady Shele, who had just left the day before for parts unknown, might have been able to do it.  Another possibility, though a bit of a long-shot, was a powerful wizard who had once run a school in the region.  Just over a week’s journey on horseback, Sangelais hadn’t been there since before the war and didn’t know whether anyone still lived there.  Still, it was an option, and so she told Zalman and Rurik about the curious little gnomish wizard Shadykin…


Next episode:  The Mission, bug lunch, and the orc cavalry.


-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Adventure #3.1 – The Journey Begins


We last left the party relaxing and training in the safe confines of New Selmar.  Everyone was in pretty good spirits after their first two successful assignments, with the notable exception of Rurik.  The transformation of his head into that of a lion, and his subsequent dismissal by his uncle from their house and chapel, had left him shaken.  Furthermore, he was forced to endure the constant stares of curiosity and horror from the other townsfolk.  

On the evening following their raid, the rest of the town’s fighting force returned from a successful series of skirmishes against one of the region’s orc tribes.  Sangelais, the master wizard, met with Lord Stephen that night in private.  Early the next morning, all five of the friends were again summoned to the Lord’s audience chamber.  Stephen offered his congratulations to them for a job well done in their dealings with the hobgoblins and then got down to the matter at hand:

“With the widespread destruction caused by the war, we’ve found ourselves isolated and lacking in knowledge and resources.  We don’t know how many others have survived or where the nearest settlement is anymore.  Almost as bad, the invaders did their best to destroy or loot all our sources of knowledge.  There can’t be more than a couple dozen books left in this city anymore.  Unless we can regain contact with other cities, open trade and attain sources of knowledge, I fear that our city will eventually regress into barbarism.

“The council and I have discussed this matter on several occasions, and we had agreed upon a course of action.  We will send out a small, well-equipped and well-trained group to try to find any evidence of other towns, cities, or knowledge and then return here with word of what they found.  You five have demonstrated an uncanny knack for working well together while training and your recent exploits show this to extend to your work in the field.  For this reason, we’re sending you on this mission.

“Besides, with Rurik’s unfortunate situation, I suspect he’d like to have a little time away from prying eyes.  I understand that Sangelais has told you of a powerful wizard she once knew who lived not too far from here…one who might be able to help cure Rurik’s condition.  Sounds like as good a direction to start as any.”

The group agrees with his logic and accepts the mission.  They are equipped with travel supplies, horses, and food for two weeks.  The following morning, a pleasant and sunny spring day, they depart for parts unknown.

Sangelais’ directions to Shadykin’s old school were vague but simple.  Follow the river northeast.  When the river turns to the east, make due north until you reach the Ironwood Forest.  There is or was a small town near there, along with a monastery and the wizardry school.

The first day of the journey is pleasant and uneventful.  The second day is when they encounter their first hardship.  Out in the middle of the rolling grasslands, they are attacked quite unexpectedly – from below.  An ankheg explodes out from underneath Rurik’s horse and clamps onto its midsection with powerful mandibles.  Rurik is thrown from the horse as its innards spill out from the vicious attack (critical hit by the ankheg).  As the first ankheg starts to pull the slain horse back down into its burrow, a second one erupts right beside Zalman’s mount.  This one takes one snap at his horse and severs its head (critical hit by the second ankheg), spraying Zalman with blood and also throwing him to the ground.  Before anyone in the group can react, both of the creatures retreat underground with their prizes.  Wisely fearing other attacks, the group doubles up on horses (except for Amblin “Marathon Monk” Aimless, who always insists on running alongside them with his two dogs) and make all haste out of the area.  They make it through the rest of the afternoon without incident and set camp for the night, taking stock of their now diminished supplies.

The next three days pass uneventfully.  They are jittery after the encounter with the ankhegs, but after a day or two of mild spring days, they are lulled back into a steady groove.  Late on their fifth day out from New Selmar, they spot riders off in the distance.  Nigel’s sharp eye makes out about thirty orcs, all mounted, and all well armed.  The group agrees that their best bet is to try to make nice with them, but when the orcs spot them and break into a full charge with lances the diplomatic approach is dropped like a sack of wet mice.

The orc charge comes at them from the east.  Just to the north, about a quarter mile away, is the river (which they knew they’d have to cross pretty soon anyway).  Given the lack of substantial cover on the hilly plains, they break for the river.  Just on the other side is one of the largest patches of woodland they’ve seen thus far, and thus the hope of some semblance of cover.

Those on horseback make it to the river ahead of Amblin and his dogs.  Zalman and Boaz both cross the river on horseback.  The water isn’t too fast or deep, though the horse does have to swim for part of it.  Nigel and Rurik pull up and wait for Amblin.  The orc charge is clearly gaining on him, and it looks as though they’ll catch up just about the time he makes it to the shore.

Nigel draws his bow and starts flinging “sharp pointy sticks” as soon as the charge is within range, scoring a couple hits.  Boaz does likewise from the opposite shore once in they’re in range.  Nigel and Rurik then cross on horseback while Amblin and the dogs swim.  Half the orcs pull up at the shoreline and draw shortbows, while the other half plunge into the water after them.  Zalman summons a shark to harass the orcs who are trying to cross.

Arrows and magic missiles fill the air and several on each side take hits.  A few of the orcs crossing the river fall to arrows or are victimized by the shark.  Zalman also conjures a bank of mist to obscure the sight of the orc bowmen.  Nigel, Rurik and Amblin reach shore right along with nearly a dozen orcs and melee combat is engaged.  Many of the bowmen also start to cross at this point.

While respectable in combat, the party is sorely outnumbered and unable to outrun the mounted soldiers.  Just as things start to feel desperate, a couple of small trees and old rotting logs crash down in the river amidst the orcs who were trying to cross.  Too busy to see who their mysterious treeflinging benefactor is, the party continues to duke it with the remaining orcs on thier side of the river.  Meanwhile, the other orcs not killed outright by the flying timber turn and flee. 

Their benefactor, as they discover after the remaining orcs are slain, is a magnificent treant and two of his animated tree companions.  The treant explains that it had seen them fleeing into the river.  Having a long-standing grudge against the orcs for their excessive lumbering and hunting of its forest during the war years, it decided to help the group out.  Everyone expresses their deepest gratitude, particularly the awe-struck elf Nigel.

The treant leads them to a secluded glade near a clean-running stream where they might rest and recover in peace.  While the group eats dinner, the treant asks if they might be willing to perform a favor for it.  It explains that a blighted area has recently appeared in his forest.  It is centered upon a spring and extends for some radius around it.  The plant and animal life in that area has become sick and putrid over the last couple years.  The treant would have dealt with the issue itself, except that it becomes sick very quickly every time it tries to enter the area.

The party unanimously agrees to help the treant to the best of their ability.  They spend another day healing up their injuries and are then led by the treant into the depths of the woods, to the blight.


-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Session #3.2 – The Green Blight


Following a day of rest and recuperation, the group followed the treant several miles into its forest.  There was no mistaking the blighted area of which it had spoken.  A wide ranging area was brown and sickly looking.  No animal chatter could be heard and a yellowish haze blotted out what little sunlight tried to filter down through the brown canopy.

The treant pointed into the heart of the blight.  “About a quarter mile further in is a spring,” it said.  “I expect the source of the problem to be near there.  I appreciate your help in this matter and wish you to take care.  I will wait for you here.”

It took them little time to find the spring, and the stench of chlorine and decay was powerful here.  On the far side of the spring they spotted a large hole dug into the side of an embankment.  They cautiously approached.  Nigel thoroughly searched the area around the entrance and had little difficulty in finding large, clawed footprints leading both in and out of the cave.  Weapons ready, they quietly entered.

The cave appeared to be freshly dug in the soft earth, not a natural feature.  About fifteen feet in, it split left and right, both passages with twists and turns blocking sight of anything of interest.  No sound came from either side and the clawed prints only down the right hand passage, so they decided to follow in that direction.

Following the winding tunnel another thirty feet back, it opened up into a roughly circular, domed chamber about thirty feet in diameter.  The walls and ceiling were all rough earth and sandstone.  The only noteworthy feature they could discern by their lantern light was a fifteen foot diameter pool of water in the middle of the room.  The smell of chlorine was almost overwhelming in there, causing their eyes to water.

Very cautiously, they approached the pool and shined their lanterns down into its depths.  It was moderately deep, perhaps about ten feet, and at the bottom rested a dark form.  They couldn’t make out the exact size or shape, but they were fairly confident that it was a creature of some sort.  While they quietly began to develop a plan of action, Boaz wandered away from the group back to the water’s edge.  He was intently curious as to just what it was sitting at the bottom of the pool…and he started poking the tip of his sword into the water, making the slightest splashing sounds.  (You all know that this can’t lead to anything good.)

At the first sound of splashing, everyone turned on Boaz to tell him to stop.  It was too late.  The creature on the bottom had awoken and launched itself directly at the half-orc, bringing with it a wave of acidic water.  The group immediately began to suspect (and later confirmed) that this was a very young dragon, a green one to be more specific.  It was somewhere between a large dog and small alligator in size.  The beast’s front claws ripped clean through Boaz’s armor and from its maw came forth a blast of corrosive gas.

Boaz was immediately dropped precariously low on hit points and was absolutely stunned by the speed and ferocity of its attacks.  Of the rest of the group, everyone failed their saves and took the full brunt of the chlorine gas with the sole exception of Nigel, who had positioned himself far enough to the side to avoid a direct hit.  The tight quarters of the chamber, however, didn’t allow the gas to dissipate very well, and everyone was dealing with burning eyes, nose, and throats.

Boaz’s first instinct, after the pounding he took, was to flee for his life.  And so, just like that, the party’s up-front muscle fled the cave, taking another claw rake across his back for good measure on the way out.  Everyone else, however, flew into action.  Nigel started pumping the dragon full of arrows.  Amblin, along with his two dogs, braved direct confrontation and closed to melee.  Rurik, likewise, tried to get close enough to bring his axe into range.  Zalman, trying to maximize his spellcasting effectiveness, decided to summon a creature.

The dragon fought hard, but it took at least as well as it dished out, and started to get worn down.  It likely would have tried to flee, except that the entire group was between it and the exit.  Amblin and Rurik both took hits and one of Amblin’s dogs, if I recall correctly, was beat to within a whisper of death.  Then Zalman’s summoned creature appeared – a giant squid in the water right behind the dragon.  It immediately lashed out at the dragon with its tentacles and initiated a successful grapple and tried to start dragging it back under the water.  While the dragon fought back and managed to break the squid’s grip, the momentary distraction was all that the beleaguered party needed to pound on it mercilessly.  Amblin, as he would continue to be bring up forevermore, was the one who dealt the fatal blow to the creature…with his bare fist.  

As the squid disappeared, they dragged the dragon’s corpse back out of the pool.  Nigel inspected the rest of the chamber and found a small stash of treasure buried in the soil near the back wall (including a magic greatsword, several vials they later identified as a potent acid, a masterwork short bow, and a few other trinkets, coin and gems).  Meanwhile, outside, Boaz had fled a couple hundred feet away before collapsing on the ground to strip his armor and take stock in his injuries.  When satisfied that he wasn’t in immediate danger of dying, he started to head back to the cave.  It had been at least a minute since he left them and no one had followed him out.  This made him a bit worried, but he had to find out whether they were still alive or not.

Just as he started to slip down the right side passage at the fork, a creature that had been aroused by all the noise of the fight was slinking down from the other fork.  A violet fungus, all six feet tall and four lashing tentacles of it, assaulted the surprised fighter.  Three of the four tentacles connected, and the resultant damage was enough to drop him unconscious.  Two failed poison saves later (each for d4 Str and d4 Con loss), he was beyond death’s doorstep.  So, Boaz’s first fate point intervenes, and the scene is replayed with the fungus getting the surprise on him, but all of its tentacles just barely missing him.  Boaz retaliates with his longsword and scores a critical.  His one attack nearly slices the fungus in two.  The purple mass manages to lash out once more and scores one hit on the half-orc, who again fails his poison save.  This time, however, it isn’t enough to drop him.  The others had heard the commotion and arrived just in time to watch Boaz finish off the fungus with one more well-placed blow.

After a bit of (somewhat) good-natured abuse directed at Boaz for fleeing like a girl, they heal him up and carefully inspect the passage from which the fungus had come.  It turned out to dead end at a small hollowed out chamber not too far back with no other signs of habitation (or treasure, to their disappointment).

They dragged the dragon’s corpse back to the treant, both for proof of the kill and to strip the creature of any body-part that might have some value – claws, teeth, hide, even it’s meat for grilling out over the campfire that night.  The treant was overjoyed at their success and hoped it was all that it would take to ease the blight on that area.  Zalman, using his prodigious alchemical knowledge, suggested that the use of some of the local minerals might help speed up neutralization of the dragon’s acid in the spring waters and surrounding soil.  While the most battered of the group rested up, the others worked with the treant and it’s animated minions to find and haul back various neutralizing agents to the spring.

That night, while eating dragon steaks around the fire (everyone admitted that it tasted surprisingly like chicken), the treant returned to them to again offer its thanks for their assistance.  It also offered them a small sack of items that it had recovered some time ago and for which it had no use.  Inside, they found a mighty masterwork elven longbow (which Nigel gawked over and promptly claimed as his own), and an unidentified potion and magic ring.

The treant had a pretty good idea of where the village that the group sought was, though it was fairly sure that no one still lived there.  Regardless, it agreed to point them along the path in the morning, indicating that they weren’t much more than another day’s ride away.

And with that, they got a good night’s sleep – what would turn out to be their last for a while…

Next Session – The dogfight of epic proportion, Goblinfest ’01, and Kisty Goodbread…


-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Session #3.3 – The Road to Ironwood

After a peaceful night of rest and recuperation, the group was eager to finish the last couple days to their destination: Shadykin’s school of magic.  While the treant knew little of the areas beyond his own woods, he did know of a small town not more than a day or two’s travel to the north on the edge of the great Ironwood Forest.  They assumed that this was probably the town of Ironwood that the school was supposedly built near, so they headed off in that direction.

Most of the first two days back on the road were quiet and peaceful.  The warm spring sun was bringing the plains and wooded hills into full green by now.  Rurik cast Gentle Repose on the dragon’s hide to try to keep it from smelling too badly.  By late afternoon on the second day out from the treant, they came across an old and largely overgrown dirt road.  The ranger gave it an inspection and found several sets of prints following the road in primarily the northern direction.  Some of the prints looked like small, booted humanoids and the others like large dogs.  The group followed the road north and noted that several more sets of prints joined in as they got closer to what was presumably the boundary of Ironwood Forest.  

The road itself headed straight into the dark, old-growth forest.  With about three hours of decent light left, they decided to press on and see where the road led.  About an hour into the forest, Nigel’s sharp elvish eyes picked up the slightest hint of movement in the brush up ahead.  He couldn’t make out what it was, but he was certain that it had been there.  The group pulled up their horses and Nigel and Amblin silently snuck off the trail to either side – Amblin left and Nigel right – to try to flank and get a better look at what was ahead of them.  The rest of the group agreed that they would proceed at a slow pace and in an open and non-adversarial manner.
When he got to within about a hundred feet, Nigel was able to get his first good look at several goblins in ambush positions on either side of the road.  He quickly slipped back to those still on horseback and notified them of the situation, then hurried back into the woods to resume a flanking position.  The rest of the group decided to try to continue with the non-adversarial approach, though Rurik and Boaz both dismounted (neither comfortable with mounted combat, especially on untrained horses).
As Boaz, Rurik and Zalman, leading all the horses, got to within a hundred feet, they too could catch glimpses of the hiding goblins.  At about the same time, the goblins decided that they were close enough to open fire on with their bows.  A couple arrows scored light hits, but most were ineffective.  Boaz, with his supernatural gazelle-like speed, charged down the dirt road with his new magic great sword (complements of the dragon’s hoard) brandished menacingly.  Boaz found there to be six goblins, three on either side of the road, and he waded into melee, cleaving the smelly little creatures left and right.  Rurik, considerably slower than Boaz, came charging up behind almost too late to help out.  Zalman held back with the horses, only slowly approaching and keeping an eye out for any other problems.  Nigel, from his flanking position off to the right, surprised a couple of the goblins when he started launching arrows.
Throughout the short fight near the road, Amblin continued to push past the goblin position while sneaking through the trees to the left.  He was the first to spot a squad of six more goblins further back into the woods, these ones all mounted on nasty-looking worgs.  The goblin riders were already in a full charge down the road and Amblin decided not to give away his position by calling out a warning.  His friends would be able to see them soon enough anyway.  Instead, he pulled the last pair of war dogs off his Robe of Useful Items (giving him four in total now), and he tried to position himself to be able to flank the riders once they engaged his comrades.

While the first six goblins had fallen quickly, the mounted group posed much more of a challenge.  As they closed in, the goblins hurled javelins and then engaged in mounted melee with short swords and shields.  Boaz and Rurik were in the thick of the fray while Nigel launched a constant stream of “sharp pointy sticks” into the battle.  Zalman cast a summoning and brought in another three celestial dogs to help deal with the worgs, then added support with a couple magic missiles and shots from his light crossbow.  Once the melee was fully engaged, Amblin charged in with his four war dogs.  (Note:  there were now three celestial dogs, four war dogs, and six worgs in one tightly packed melee…thirteen in all.  It was a noisy fight, to say the least, with all the growling, barking, and snarling.)

The fighting was intense.  While the goblins were not as skilled of combatants as the party, they outnumbered those in melee by 2 to 1.  The worgs’ powerful bites and ability to trip up opponents proved to be more dangerous a threat than their riders posed.  Through some strategic double-teaming and a couple tanglefoot bags supplied by Zalman, the fight finally turned in the heroes’ favor.  One of the goblins managed to flee the fight and his worg was able to outdistance even the speedy Boaz.  The party noted that he headed in a roughly northern direction, though not following exactly along with the road.

Amblin, Boaz, and Rurik had each sustained a couple blows, but none were critical.  One of Amblin’s dogs had perished, two had minor injuries, and one was unscathed.  After looting the goblins and doing a couple other moderately obscene things to the bodies (to discourage further confrontation, they claimed), the group decided to push on into the rapidly falling night.  They didn’t feel comfortable trying to camp with an unknown number of goblins somewhere in the vicinity.

Another two hours of slower progress down the road and night had fallen in full.  They started to hear the unmistakable deep boom of drums in the distance up ahead of them.  Nigel took point on foot a couple hundred feet ahead of the party and Hooty, Zalman’s owl familiar, also helped scout ahead.  They encountered no further resistance or ambushes while they closed in on the drumming.  Hooty returned to Zalman with a report on what he had found.  Now, at this point, the link between Zalman and the familiar was still empathic only, though it was developing quickly toward full communication.  Given this, the best information they could get from Hooty was that there were lots of goblins ahead, probably more than forty.  Additionally, the owl was able to indicate lots of buildings and a large fire.  Also, Hooty did his best to indicate that the goblins were in a circle around another person (*not* a goblin), who was tied up to something.  While trying to interpret all this from the owl, the tempo of the drums started to increase and they could make out frantic yelling and cheering from the goblins.

Not liking the sound of that, the group decided to hastily plan a quick hit and run raid.  Their only goal was to get in, cause as much confusion as possible, grab the goblins’ prisoner, and get back out alive.  Zalman sent Hooty ahead with a thunderstone in his claws and instructions to drop it on the opposite side of the group of goblins from their intended approach.

With a couple minor exceptions, their plan was executed flawlessly (admittedly, this doesn’t happen that often in D&D).  About the only part of the plan that didn’t happen was that Hooty’s dropped thunderstone failed to detonate (I gave it a 25% chance of landing on something too soft to trigger it’s noise effect).  Regardless, the rest of the group, including all ten horses and three dogs, came charging into the surprised goblins.  (I think I forgot to mention that the group had previously recovered several of the fallen orc cavalry’s horses to replace the two they lost to the Ankegs and to have several spares in case of further mishap.  The dogs and spare horses were set loose to do as they wished.  

The fight was far too chaotic for the goblins to mount a coordinated counter attack.  Boaz was cleaving anything he could reach and Amblin and Nigel were similarly hitting anything that wasn’t fleeing outright.  Zalman held back a bit, holding in reserve his few remaining spells, but managed to drop a few of the goblins that had the courage to threaten him.  Rurik made straight for the prisoner, a young female halfling who was quite conscious, but also quite tied up to a pole in the ground.  While Rurik’s lion head gave her pause, the halfling was not about to let a rescue attempt go to waste.  As soon as Rurik had cut through the ropes binding her, she bolted for the door to a nearby building, giving the cleric a quick thanks on the way.

Unsure of her motives and wanting to know who she was, Zalman tried to intercept her inside the building she had just entered.  Within was a large square room, with assorted piles of junk and shelves and such.  Zalman found her hastily gathering up what he could only assume to be her possessions (mostly traveling gear, pouches, and so on).  Zalman couldn’t get her to slow down from the overdrive mode she’d gone into since being freed.  She bolted right past him for the door.  He tried to use his staff to trip her and slow her down for a moment, but she nimbly went into a diving tuck and roll and came back up with only a sarcastic remark for him on her was back outside.

Rurik and Boaz were both just outside the door.  With most of the remaining goblins already fleeing off into the night, they were more interested in the halfling they had just rescued.  Finding her running back out the door with Zalman in pursuit, they both made attempts to grab her and slow her down.  Neither, however, could catch the slippery girl.  She danced her way across the courtyard battlefield over to a fallen goblin, bent over to pluck an ornate dagger from its dead hand, twirled it about a couple times and promptly sheathed it in her belt.  With that, she finally came to a complete stop, turned to face Zalman, Boaz, and Rurik, and gave them an appraising look.  (Zalman, a young human with white hair, Boaz, a huge half-orc with a massive great sword and spattered in goblin blood, and Rurik, a stout dwarf with the head of a lion – she had good reason to be a bit hesitant facing them, rescuers or not.) 

While no one tried to grab her again, they demanded to know why she had fled when they untied her.  They found that she had something of an abrasive and flippant attitude, but her answer was also fairly reasonable in retrospect:  “I didn’t know how well you guys could handle the goblins and I wanted to make sure I had my equipment and my lucky dagger in case I had to make a hasty retreat from here.”  By this time, the fighting was over and none of the group had taken much more than a few superficial injuries.  Nigel rounded the horses back up while the others kept a close eye out for any returning goblins.  Amblin performed a cursory search of some of the nearby buildings, even finding a secret cubby in the building where Kisty’s gear had been stashed that had a couple potentially magic items within.

The others grilled the halfling for a few minutes more.  Her name was Kisty Goodbread and her hometown was a city known as Water Break, approximately six weeks to the east by foot (as she had been traveling due west from there for that long).  She had gotten careless and unlucky in dealing with these particular goblins and was quite grateful for the group’s fortunate timing in rescuing her.

Once the horses were all rounded up, they decided to push northward and put a little distance between them and the goblin camp before settling down for the night.  They found a clearing about half an hour away and stopped there.  The halfling was content to travel with them for the time being and quickly curled up to sleep.  The others all quietly discussed amongst themselves what they wanted to do with her.  They knew that halflings, particularly those who had the spirit for adventuring, also tended somewhat toward thievery – and this one had all the hallmarks of fitting this stereotype.  More so, what would a halfling be doing so far from home all alone, particularly in a region that was almost completely uncivilized and quite dangerous?  Bottom line, no one trusted her.  On the other hand, though, she purported to be from Water Break, a city that she claimed had over twenty thousand inhabitants – far larger than New Selmar.  Since one of the key aspects of their mission was to find other settlements and to retrieve sources of knowledge, this sounded like an excellent place to start.  After much debate, they decided that they would seek out her home city after they had found Shadykin…and Kisty would lead them there as payment for their rescuing her.  Of course, she would be watched very closely and would not be allowed into the nightly watch rotation.

The rest of the night was mostly quiet.  Hooty reported spotting several goblins nearby throughout the night, but apparently they were unwilling to try to attack the party.  In the morning, when Kisty awoke, the group asked her if she would lead them back to her hometown.  Kisty was very hesitant at the idea, alluding to some problems with her family that she’d just spent the last six weeks trying very hard to get away from.  When they pressed upon her that this would be in return for her rescue from the goblins, she grudgingly agreed.

With that, they saddled up and headed off down the road in search of Shadykin’s school.  It turned out that they had camped less than a quarter mile away from the strangest building they had ever laid eyes upon…one they could only assume to be the eccentric wizard’s school.


(DM’s notes:  The goblins had established their camp in the remnants of an old monastery that had been near Ironwood.  For this, I borrowed the Monk Temple map from the last page of Sword and Fist.  The goblin gathering was held in the garden and Kisty’s equipment was in the Hall of Prowess.  The clearing that the group camped in later that night was actually the site of the (former) town of Ironwood.  Every building had been burnt to the ground during the war some twenty years earlier and had long since been overgrown.)



-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Adventure #4 - Shadykin's School for Arcane Arts and Magical Sciences

Session #4.1 – The Welcoming Committee or “Let Yourselves In, the Door is Unlocked.”


So, ten minutes after striking camp and mounting up, the group finds that the road heading north leads directly into a huge open field in the middle of the forest.  Centered in the roughly circular clearing is a massive building or complex built primarily of stone.  Three tall towers loomed over a thirty-foot high wall.  The road led up to a gatehouse of some manner with two enormous double doors constructed of wood.  To the left of the entrance were two large, rectangular buildings set at odd angles that both joined up with the wall – between which was an unusual curved section of wall done seemingly all in dark glass that started fifteen feet above ground and went up to the top.  

Perhaps the most noteworthy feature of the complex was the golden dome.  From their location they could only see part of it, but it looked as through a perfectly smooth hemisphere comprised of pure gold was attached to the other structures around the back left corner.  It’s top had to be at least seventy feet above the ground, making it tower above all but the towers.  The group saw no signs of activity, but also no immediate signs of danger.  Deciding on caution, they made broad circuit of the complex, staying at the wood line.

While walking around it, they noted a couple other things.  The tallest of the three towers, which was opposite the gate house (the only apparent entrance they could find), had a sizable bit of the top couple floors destroyed.  While it was too far to make out any details of the insides of the tower, one feature was quite visible – a seemingly perfect sphere that had a mirrored surface.  It appeared to be about ten feet in diameter and sitting (?) amongst the rubble.  Boaz, while making the circuit with the others, thought that he caught a glimpse of movement in one of the high windows in the northernmost tower (between the golden dome and the damaged tower), but he couldn’t be certain.

Not seeing any immediate threats, they decided to take the direct approach and went to the front door and knocked.  No answer.  There was a sign over the door proclaiming this to be “Shadykin’s School for Arcane Arts and Magical Sciences,” but it was otherwise looking pretty desolate.  The double doors had handles which they tried and found to be unlocked.  Within was a largish rectangular room with a worn flagstone floor.  Magical light from an unknown source kept the room dimly lit.  Set in each of the other three walls were another set of massive double doors identical to the ones they had just opened, though these were closed.  The room was otherwise empty.  Walking up to the set directly opposite the ones they’d entered, they opened them and found themselves looking into an exact replica of the room they were already in…so identical, in fact, that there was another set of themselves that they were viewing from behind.  Much like having a video camera shooting footage of a television that it has a live feed going into, they were looking in on themselves from behind.

One of them tried walking through the door and found that he essentially reappeared back at the front entrance without having experienced any sensation of moving there.  They opened one of the side doors and found that when doing so it caused the other set of side doors to open as well.  Sure enough, going through one of the side doors led right back in the other side.  The only time they didn’t reappear in the room after going through a door was when they went back out the way they came in…this always led back outside, regardless of how many times they had walked through the other doorways.

They tried countless iterations and tricks of jumping and walking through doors, opening and closing in certain combinations, and so on, but could not seem to get through.  Finally, Zalman cast levitate on Nigel and sent him up the side of the wall to have a look.  The wall itself was narrow on top, not much more than about two feet, and it had two lines of razor sharp metal sticking up (presumably to slice through any rope and grappling hooks that tried to get over that way).  Beyond the wall, Nigel saw a large courtyard full of trees, a meandering stream and a waterfall.  He saw nothing else moving, though, so he let himself down to ground level inside the courtyard where the doors were open and he could see his comrades.  They, however, could see nothing but the recursive inside of the gatehouse.  He walked into the gatehouse and again found himself seeing nothing but endless gatehouses through each of the exits.

Rurik, through a bit of luck and dwarven aptitude for things stone, noticed a slight irregularity with the flagstones in the gatehouse floor.  Placing his head at ground level, he noticed that some of the stones were more settled than others, as if a path had been worn through here with the hauling of heavy materials.  From the front entrance, the path turned to the left doors.  Another path went from the doors on the right to the doors opposite the entrance.  Deciding to give this a shot, a couple of them tried walking the path from the front door through the left, then continuing from where they appeared at the right door through the far door.  Nothing happened.  They were still in the gatehouse.  They tried it once more, and this time found that instead of another recursion of the gatehouse, the far set of doors opened into the green courtyard beyond.  Relieved, the others quickly followed the same technique and were all through.  (The horses had been left outside the gatehouse for the time being.)

The inner courtyard was spacious and pleasant, aside from being somewhat overgrown.  A waterfall began against the far outer wall, the water appearing in midair.  From there it became a small stream that meandered through the yard, pausing briefly in a number of pools and running under several small foot bridges before finally disappearing in a whirlpool near the gatehouse.  Trees and other shrubbery dotted the rest of the yard, but there was no evidence of any recent efforts to control or trim back their growth.  Some tracks  (small humanoid in nature) could be seen leaving the gatehouse area.

Shortly after entering the quiet courtyard, they noticed that the door to the north tower on the opposite side of the courtyard (the one in which Boaz claimed to have seen motion in one of the upper floor windows) had opened and a lovely female elf wearing leather armor and equipped with a scimitar came out.  She seemed shaken and surprised to see them.  Calling out, she asked for their assistance.  Her friends, she claimed, were being overwhelmed in the tower by large creatures she was unable to identify.  Most of the group hurried over to the tower to offer assistance, but a couple were less enthusiastic - sensing that something was amiss.

Inside the tower, she indicated a trapdoor in the floor with a ladder leading down.  The only other features of the room were a couple large stone statues and the crumbled remains of a staircase that once led up before being blocked off.  Not waiting for everyone to catch up, she hurried down the ladder and off into the darkness below.  While a Boaz and Rurik went down the ladder into a dark hallway, they stopped there, wondering where she had gone off to.  The others, meanwhile, had entered the main floor of the tower but had not yet proceeded down the ladder when the main door slammed shut behind them.  A couple of thuds quickly followed, presumably the large statues that had been outside on either side of the door were now leaning up against it, trapping them within.  While most of the group tried to follow the elf in the dark tunnel, Nigel remained above, poised to attack any who might try to reenter the tower.

Below, the trapdoor led to a hallway went in only one direct and shortly made a left turn.  At the turn, there was a door to the right and one a short way off to the left.  Neither Boaz nor Rurik had heard a door shut behind the elf, further increasing their suspicions and curiosity.  They opened the door to the right and found a small room piled high with junk - mostly old weapons, armor, and cookware...all metal.  At the next door, they heard a very faint bit of scraping.  Deciding to take whatever threat might be there head on, they opened the door and charged in.  Two rust monsters (though most of the group were unaware of their nature) awaited them in a largely empty rectangular room with one other door set in the far wall.  Amblin and Boaz took the frontal assualt with Rurik right behind.  Zalman and Kisty took up positions further back.  Things were going well initially, with the fighter dealing one a vicious blow.  However, with his second attack, his (newly acquired) magic great sword assumed a new form (pile of rust), and things were suddenly not looking as good.  The fighter’s armor was the next thing to go when it was tagged by the rust monster he’d already softened up.  Rurik’s warhammer likewise turned to rust upon striking one of the beasts.  Between the monk's fists, the rogue's sling stones, and the wizard's spells and (wood) staff, they were quickly finished off.

After re-equipping with crude gear from the store room back down the hall, the group proceeded to the door in the opposite wall of the room.  Kisty checked the door and found that it was locked.  While picking it, she set off a trap that she had overlooked, and got hit with a couple of needles (fortunately not poisoned).  Beyond the door was a short hall that turned to the right.  The monk offered to lead the way and managed to set off another trap, a sharp blade that swing out from the wall and hit his leg causing a small gash.  The short hall ended at another door that Kisty spent extra time carefully searching for traps.  It was easily picked and opened to a smaller room with a door and two rough cut passages in the earth.  While looking around, Kisty noticed that there was a trap on the floor right in front of the door.  Unsure of the nature of it, she marked around the edges of it in chalk.  At that point, rather than proceeding, the group decided to return to the main floor of the tower, regroup with Nigel, and make plans.

The general consensus was to get out of the tower rather than risk whatever other traps had been laid in the parts below.  Rurik went down below to fetch a couple of axes with which they could hack through the tower door.  Just as he was about to return, he spotted three critters descending upon him in the small store room from the direction of the chamber where they’d slain the rust monsters.  Each of the three resembled a beholder in nearly every detail but size, these being only about two feet in diameter.  Recognizing them from stories of old, he yelled out "beholders!" and then pulled the door to the store room shut behind him.  One, however, was quick enough to slip in before he got it fully shut.

Those up above quickly raced down the ladder and a fight in the tight hallway ensued.  Boaz fearlessly led the charge, hacking viciously at the first one.  The two beholderkin fought back with hard bites and acidic saliva.  An attempt to hurl a vial of acid at one failed to bother it.  Zalman also tried to fire off a magic missile, only to have it fizzle in an apparent anti-magic field generated by the little critters.

In the store room, Rurik had a tough fight on his hands.  He tried to get off a spell at it, but the beholderkin interrupted him with another bite.  Exchanging hits, the two wore each other down until finally the cleric was nearly done in.

The fight outside was quick and brutal.  The two beholderkin didn't fare well, but the group was surprised to note that these particular ones had an amazing ability to heal themselves at supernatural rates.  After dropping one of them twice, they finally pummeled it beyond its ability to heal itself.  They then forced their way in to the store room and pulled Rurik’s body clear and then slammed the door shut behind them – sealing in the remaining beholderkin.

After regrouping, they forced the door open and charged back in after the last creature (which had nearly recovered from all its wounds by this time).  Severely outnumbered, the fight was short and the beholderkin became a puddle on the floor.  While the group had come out victorious, Rurik was seriously injured and several of the others had taken some significant abuse as well.

The group healed up a bit and again prepared to cut their way out the front door of the tower.  Boaz and Nigel, working together, were hacking methodically through it when they heard a loud thudding sound coming from outside.  They paused in their cutting to peek through the small holes they’d cut in the door - only to find that there was a large humanoid figure standing just outside the door now.  They opened the hole a bit further and tried to communicate with it.  They asked it to move the statues out of the way.  It did so by picking one up and hurling it through the door rather violently at them.

Interpreting this as an unfriendly gesture, Boaz decided to try to run past the iron golem (as they had settled upon its nature), only to have it pound him badly in the back as he raced by.  Amblin and Nigel, armed with the vials of acid they had recovered from the dragon's lair, peppered the golem's legs.  This tactic seemed to cause it some degree of distress, so they kept at it.  Meanwhile, Zalman, Kisty, and Rurik raced back down through the trapdoor to the rust monster corpses and cut their antennae off - tying them to long wooden poles salvaged from the store room.  Boaz, despite his massively bruised back, got up and made a mad dash for the gate house.

The golem, annoyed enough by the acid, finally backed off from the door.  Amblin and Nigel heard a loud flapping sound from just outside as they went in pursuit.  The golem was nowhere to be seen.  However, a rather large, furred creature with wings was flapping away from them over the walls of the school.



(DM notes – the iron golem, as the players would later learn, was just the resident witch using polymorph self.  This was prior to the errata version of the spell that prohibits the use of construct forms, or changing forms during the duration of the spell, for that matter.  The group’s tactic of trying to get the antennae off of the rust monsters was particularly clever and would have likely destroyed the witch outright if the acid vials hadn’t been so effective against her and forced her to retreat prematurely.)



Next time:  Despite being beat up and depleted on spells and resources, the group manages to split themselves up and get into all sorts of trouble.  The fate points flow freely for some when the two spellcasters learn just how dangerous half a dozen stirges can be…

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Session #4.2 – Divide (Ourselves) and (Be) Conquered


With things quieting down, Rurik tended to Boaz’s considerable wounds.  Zalman watched the trapdoor for more surprises, and Amblin played with the magical waterfall near the tower (concluding that the mid-air waterfall was supplied by the whirlpool at the other end of the courtyard stream.  In the meantime, Nigel and Kisty took to following the perimeter of the courtyard in a counterclockwise fashion - inspecting the golden dome first of all.

The dome, to all appearances, was made of pure gold.  Kisty, however, noted that it would not dent under pressure from her dagger as gold ordinarily would.  Additionally, when she tapped her dagger against it, rather than ringing as metal on metal, it sounded more like the click of hitting stone.  They could find no sign of an entrance or of any footprints.

Continuing on to the next building, a five-story rectangular one with two ground level doors and lots of windows, they finally found footprints.  Most of them were boot prints, larger than human.  Most of them would appear or disappear abruptly about fifteen feet away from the two doors.  Near one of the doors, the ranger also spotted a pair of small booted footprints, about the size of an elf or smaller human.  As this was supposed to have been a school of magic, they guessed (correctly) that this building looked like something of a dormitory.  They left these doors alone and proceeded to the next building, one connected to this.

This roughly “T”-shaped building had two larger doors on opposite sides of a main double-doored entrance.  They tried opening one of the large doors and found it locked.  Posing little challenge to Kisty, they were soon inside a short hallway that led to another large door.  This one was set in a gently curved wall, as if it led into a large circular room.  The door was surrounded by magic looking runes.  Deciding discretion was in order, they left them alone until Zalman could be brought to inspect them.  They next found that the other large door led opposite the main entrance led to an identical hallway and rune inscribed door.  Leaving this one alone as well, the pair headed off to the main entrance.

In the meantime, Rurik finished healing the fighter and decided to start inspecting the nearby and more ornate tower while the Boaz and Amblin headed off to join up with Nigel and Kisty.  Zalman, not realizing where everyone else had gone, decided to go join Rurik in inspecting the tallest tower.  The two of them let themselves in the unlocked front door where they found a few rotting pieces of furniture, a small broom closet, and a spiral staircase leading up.  They ascended the staircase to a platform - the inner diameter of the hollowed out tower - which itself had a staircase that wrapped around the inside up another forty feet to a door.

Without hesitation, the pair went up the stairs and checked the door.  Locked.  They tried using the rust monster antennae on the hinges but found that they had lost their potency.  So, they resorted to using a wand of Knock to open it.  Inside, they found that they were in the remains of a destroyed laboratory.  Benches, cabinets, and glassware were broken everywhere.  Half the ceiling and a quarter of the wall were missing and open to the outside.  Suspended in air directly above them was a perfectly mirrored sphere about ten feet in diameter.  Before they had much of a chance to explore, though, a swarm of half a dozen stirges attacked from their resting place further back in the room.

Unprepared for such a quick attack, each immediately had two or three of the ruthless blood-suckers attached to him.  Their efforts to fight back were mostly in vain as they lost blood too quickly to remain conscious.  Luckily for them, they had just enough blood left in them when the stirges became sated and released their hold.  (DM note:  both were forced to use fate points to survive this encounter, leaving Rurik with none and Zalman with one.)

The rest of the group, blissfully ignorant of the plight of their spell-slinging comrades, was exploring the main entrance hall in the southernmost building.  It was a tall room with giant tapestries depicting pastoral scenes of gnomish communities on either side.  Directly across from the doors was a huge statue of some older gnomish gentleman.  To either side of the statue were a series of metal bars, much like a cylindrical cage, running from floor to ceiling in front of two higher levels of balconies.  Some experimentation revealed that within the bars was an area with no gravity.  They used the bars, some more successfully than others, to guide themselves from the main floor to the second.  

From the second floor, a couple of the group could hear the faintest hint of music playing off in the distance.  The first door they checked on lead to a balcony part of a great library.  The balcony level looked relatively untouched, but the lower level had clearly been the scene of some sort of struggle that left books, shelves, and tables strewn about.  They also spotted a small little hand brush, sweeping the floor under its own power.  The monk saw great potential in this item for his master's cleanliness fetish.  While they immediately recognized this library to be an invaluable resource, Zalman would be the one to get the most use of it.  The rest were more interested in continuing their exploration.

The other half of the second floor led to a balcony overlooking a massive laboratory, again in a state of disarray.  Between the library and the laboratory, both wings of the first and second floors were accounted for except for the circular chamber in the heart of the building.  Aside from the heavy and rune inscribed doors outside the building, they had seen no entrance to this circular core.  

From the third floor, the sound of distantly playing music became a bit more pronounced, and a bit more disturbing.  It was horribly distorted and out of tune.  Starting on the wing opposite the direction of the sound, they found most of this floor to be comprised of empty classrooms and small laboratories in various states of disarray.  While Kisty and Nigel gave one particular lab a closer inspection, Boaz and Amblin wandered off to investigate the music.

(DM note:  Yes, the group had now managed to split themselves up into three pairs in the dangerously unexplored remains of a magic school.  Not a shining example of brilliant tactics.)

The monk and fighter found the door leading to the source of the music rather easily.  They listened at it and, aside from the impression that all the instruments were broken, they could hear no other sounds.  They pushed the door open and were confronted with a rather disturbing scene.  The room was a large slice-of-pie-shaped affair with three tiers leading down toward a massive curved window that had a view of the forest and the western horizon.  On the upper tier with them was another door and a half dozen instruments trying desperately to play themselves in spite of their obvious state of disrepair.  The second and third tiers down had numerous round dinner tables, chairs, and china.  Most were tipped over and scattered about, as if a great conflict had occurred here.  Despite all the evidence of a struggle they’d seen in the other rooms of the complex, this was the first one in which they had found any bodies…and there were many of them.  Blood stains marred the walls, the grand window, and the floors, though it had the black color of great age.  The bodies, strewn carelessly amongst the broken furniture and china, were also many years deceased.

Boaz and Amblin, shocked by the scene, moved into the room to take a closer look at things.  Amblin primarily inspected the instruments and upper tier while Boaz went down to the lower levels to investigate the carnage.  Not half a minute into their inspection, the temperature in the room suddenly plummeted and the door they had opened slammed shut of its own accord.  Amblin jumped over to it but found he couldn’t force it back open.  Boaz was just starting back up the stairs when a flickering blue light leapt out of one of the corpses and entered his body.  Amblin witnessed this and saw the half-orc go rigid with eyes bulging out.  For lack of any other options, the monk held his ground and watched Boaz stand motionless.

Boaz, while in his frozen state, became unaware of the room about him.  Or, rather, his awareness was shifted for him to another time.  He caught hazy images of this very room, full of people scattering every direction.  The images were broken and frantic, but he could make out people casting the same magic that he had seen Zalman perform in the past.  Then Boaz caught fragmented glimpses of the target for those spells.  A man of some sort dressed in red armor with a flowing cape was swirling about with a massive sword.  Blood and bodies flew in every direction.  There was an overwhelming sense of panic.  And then, the man in red turned to Boaz, grinned broadly, and dropped his sword through his skull.

Amblin watched as Boaz staggered and pitched forward.  The temperature in the room was returning to normal and the fighter regained his feet, looking at Amblin with a confused look.  Nigel and Kisty, having heard the door slam shut, were opening in back up now that it no longer seemed stuck.  Amblin didn’t bother explaining what had just happened, he simply ordered everyone out of the room.  The tone of his voice and look in his eyes, not to mention Boaz’s pale color, kept anyone from arguing.  While on the way out, Amblin never took his eyes off of Boaz…who he was convinced was still possessed because he hadn’t seen the bluish light leave the half-orc’s body.

Just as they left the building’s main entrance into the courtyard, they caught a brief glimpse of movement from the ruined top of the tower opposite them…up near the mirrored sphere.  Boaz and Amblin had seen Rurik poking around near that building, so they quickly headed over to its base.  Just as they were about to reach the door, the sound of flapping overhead caused them to look up.  Two large, brutish humanoid sporting gigantic bat-wings and reddish-brown skin were flying from the top of the tower they were about to enter.  One was carrying an unconscious Zalman, the other an unconscious Rurik.  The pair glided across the courtyard and landed at the base of the dormitory, entered one of the doors with their load, and shut it behind them without ever noticing the stunned group outside.


-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Session #4.3 – Duel in the Dorms


So, recapping the situation our heroes find themselves in…

Zalman and Rurik, the group’s two spellcasters, were both unconscious after a nasty run-in with a group of stirges and had just been spotted in the arms of some very unfriendly looking chaps…specifically, a pair of half-fiend ogres.  

Boaz, while possessed by a spirit of some sort, had just experienced visions of some apocalyptic struggle that once took place in the cafeteria and Amblin was convinced that the thing still hasn’t left the half-orc.

Nigel and Kisty were merely bewildered.

So, having spotted the half-fiend ogres flying overhead with their comrades and then landing and going into the dormitory, the rest decide that they have no choice but to make a hasty rescue.  Dawdling, they figure, will only put them at risk of being eaten or worse, and they gain nothing by resting further.  No one, however, is optimistic about the fight judging by the intimidating size and appearance of this pair.  Besides, they’ll be going in without any magic or healing support.

Summoning their bravery, they quietly open the outer door to the dormitory and find a short hall leading in.  The hall intersects with another hall and also has an open doorway into was appears to have been a huge lounge, with the ceiling extending the full five floors to the roof.  It is plainly obvious that the beasts have just gone in here.  They sneak up to the doorway and find the room to be full of odds and ends…mostly old furniture, barrels, chests, and what they would generally sum up as junk.  And it smelled bad.  This had to be where the pair had taken up residence.  Sure enough, they spotted the pair of their companions unceremoniously dumped against an old couch across the room, and the pair of half-fiend ogres considering what to do next with them.

Boaz and Amblin led the charge into the room, seeking what little advantage they could gain in surprise.  Nigel started plugging one of them with arrows while Kisty put her sling to use.  The fight was short and brutal.  While Boaz dished out considerable damage, he took just as much back from the massive strength of the towering fiends.  Amblin, likewise, took a couple good blows and was soon in serious trouble.  Nigel’s arrows continued to wear one of them down until finally the first one fell.  The second ogre pounded Boaz to the floor unconscious and then started to move toward his giant club that was propped up against a nearby table.  With Amblin weakened and one ogre nearly unharmed, Kisty tumbled into a flanking position across from the monk to set up a nice sneak attack.  Amblin gots in one last parting kick before the ogre grabbed his club and put the wood to the young man’s ribcage, knocking him out of the fight.

Kisty was now very worried, for she was the only target within twenty feet of this creature, and she was about the size of one of its forearms.  She tumbled back and flung a dagger into its thigh, only irritating it.  It stepped toward her and leveled a blow that staggered but didn’t drop her.  In desperation, she grabbed another dagger and gave it one more good stab while Nigel plunked an arrow squarely in the monster’s back.  Luckily, it’s just enough to drop it to the floor.  

Kisty quickly made certain that neither of the fiendish ogres would get up again while Nigel performed what token healing he knew to stabilize Boaz and Amblin’s wounds.  After slitting the creatures’ throats, Kisty untied Rurik and Zalman and roused them to a bleary consciousness.  Rurik had just enough strength to call upon Moradin’s blessing to heal Boaz and Amblin back to consciousness.  He was now completely depleted of all magic for the day, and Zalman was also almost completely tapped.  Realizing they were in yet another large and unexplored building, they decided to retreat to a safer location to rest and recoup.  They settle upon the small storeroom under the tower where they had faced the rust monsters and beholderkin.  Between the trapdoor on one end and another heavy door on the other, they figure that they should be able to hold against most threats.


-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Session #4.4 – Night in the Witch’s Guest Room


By the time the fight with the half-fiend ogres was over, it was pushing late afternoon and the group was exhausted and substantially beat up.  They returned to the tower with the trap door and went down the ladder to the hallway beneath.  Here, they took assorted bits of old cookware, weapons, tools, and armor that they scrounged from the store room and barricaded the doorway that led to the room that the rust monsters had occupied.  They also littered the hallway with bits of junk, making it difficult for anyone to approach quietly.  Rurik and Zalman were already resting in the store room.

Boaz wandered off through the school’s main entrance to start fetching the horses that they had left outside earlier that morning.  At this point, they somewhere between eight and ten horses…having decided to take extras from the fallen orc cavalry after they had lost two to the ankheg attack just a couple days into their journey.  So, a couple at a time, he led them back to the tower.  The group decided to cram the horses into the main level of the tower rather than leave them outside to the whims of whatever other nastiness the ruined school had to offer.  While fetching the last pair of horses, a middle-aged human woman appeared before him near the main entrance.  She was dressed as if a peasant and slung over her back was a small sack.

Boaz asked the lady who she was and what she wanted.  She replied that she had this sack of food that he should take back to his friends and share.  This seemed perfectly reasonable to the half-orc, and he gave no further thought to who she was, where she had come from, or what ulterior motives she might have.  (He also failed to realize that she’d nailed him with a Suggestion spell.)  So, he toted the sack back to the others who were resting under the tower.  As he entered the small room, he unslung the sack and mentioned that the nice lady had given him food to share.  Alarmed at Boaz’s unusual behavior and inability to explain why he just took this total stranger’s word at face value, they became highly suspicious and tried to take the sack from him.  He was persistent that it was just food to share and he couldn’t understand why they were so suspicious.  Finally, Amblin got the sack away from him and took it outside the tower.  Deciding it was a bit too light to toss over the wall, he instead deposited it in the small stream that meandered through the courtyard.  Boaz pestered him the entire way and briefly considered going in after it, but finally gave up.

(DM note – they were wise not to open it as it contained a home grown colony of a nasty little mold that would have exploded in a cloud of toxic spores had they opened the sack.  The mysterious lady was, of course, the witch again.)

With all the horses inside the tower, they shut the door to the courtyard and blocked it as best they could.  Hooty, Zalman’s familiar, took up a perch on one of the statues inside the room with the horses to keep an eye on anything trying to get at the group through the trapdoor.  Amblin’s three dogs were all left in the hallway under the trap door.  Everyone else piled into the small storeroom off the hallway and closed and blocked the door.  Exhausted as they were, they still set watches.  Several hours after the presumed sunset, Nigel heard that something had attracted the dogs’ attention by their sudden restlessness.  They weren’t barking or growling, but they were clearly interested in something and it sounded like they were near the far end of the hall by the trapdoor.  He roused the others before opening the door to take a look.  In the hall, they found that the dogs were enthusiastically eating something on the floor.  Amblin raced over to check on it and found that a large chunk of meat was lying there.  This couldn’t be good as there was no explanation for its appearance.  Sure enough, all of the dogs started gagging and vomiting.  Two were dead only moments later, while the third one, Gunther, was clearly ill but hanging on.  

They looked for any indication of how the meat got there but could find nothing.  Zalman made a quick inspection of the meat and confirmed that there was evidence of some sort of herbal poison on it.  Hooty gave no indication that he had noticed any disturbance or activity from above the trapdoor.  Paranoid, the group went back into the room, bringing Gunther with them but leaving the two deceased dogs in the hallway.

Things settled back down for a couple hours and most fell into a restless sleep.  Then the noises began.  Everyone was instantly wide awake when they heard growling and scratching noises just outside their door.  They hadn’t heard any of the metal bits fall or be knocked around out in the hallway and Hooty empathically indicated to Zalman that things were still peaceful up above the trapdoor.  It had to be Amblin’s dogs, they decided.  Something had brought them back from the dead.  

Forming a quick plan, they all took up positions around the door.  Zalman was going to drop a quick tanglefoot bag outside the door and then Nigel and Boaz were going to hack away with their swords.  On cue, they flung the door open and – nothing.  There was absolutely nothing there and the sound stopped.  Both fallen dogs were still lying at the other end of the hall where they had fallen.  Again, the witch had succeeded in tormenting them.  Much as she’d have liked to just do them all in, though, she lacked the direct magical firepower to do so.

The group unbarricaded the door leading to the rust monster room, dragged the dogs’ bodies into it for proper disposal the next day, and then re-barricaded the door.  What little was left of the rest of the night passed uneventfully.

The following day, Rurik healed what he could of the group’s remaining injuries and then went back to resting.  For his and Zalman’s injuries from the stirges, only time could repair that sort of damage.  The others helped graze and walk the horses about the courtyard throughout the morning while remaining highly vigilant.  Nigel noticed a very suspicious looking raven perched on the tallest tower near the mirrored sphere.  He was convinced that it was watching them.  Amblin continued to remain suspicious of Boaz, suspecting that he might still be possessed.

After a quiet morning, however, they started to let their guards down a bit.  They brought the horses back into the tower and most went back downstairs to continue resting.  Boaz was the last on the ground floor with the horses when he heard a familiar voice…the mysterious middle-aged woman again.  She was peeking through the hole in the door that they had made the previous day while trying to chop their way out.  She politely asked him if he wouldn’t mind giving her a hand with something outside.  Boaz, failing his second save against her Suggestion, thought this seemed the perfectly reasonable thing to do.

She led him outside and indicated that he was to walk over toward the water.  Once behind him, she polymorphed into an umber hulk and launched herself at him.  He was quick to catch on, but not quite quick enough.  She raked the her mighty claws across his back and side, leaving him severely injured.  Something far in the back of his mind told him that this lady had somehow tricked him again, probably with one of those magic spells, and this infuriated him.  And so, as only a huge half-orc can, he hacked at her with his sword and landed a furious blow.  The witch was first surprised that he was still standing after her first attack, then horrified at how badly he had injured her in return.  Boaz’s battle cry alerted Nigel and Amblin who were both in the hall below the trapdoor and they hurried up to his aid.

The witch swiped again at Boaz, but he was a bit better prepared for the attack and only a minor hit.  A minor hit from an umber hulk is nothing to scoff at, though, and he figured one more minor hit would drop him.  Boaz was far from willing to retreat and launched another brutal attack with his sword and connected.  The witch/beast dropped.  Amblin raced out of the tower just in time to see the half-orc hack once more into the body of a non-descript middle aged human woman before collapsing himself from several deep and bleeding wounds.
Amblin, with Nigel close behind, tended Boaz’s wounds sufficiently to drag him down below the tower where Rurik continued to watch over him. Then they returned upstairs and proceeded to burn the witch’s body. Keep in mind that Amblin was quite upset with her, assuming (correctly) that she was to blame for the death of two of his dogs and nearly a third as well. They burned the body by tossing it into the run-down remains of some servants quarters tucked away against the west wall and torching the place. While watching it burn, Amblin thought he heard a faint, feminine voice call out for someone from within the blazing inferno, but he paid it little heed. 
After seeing to the horses, they all went back to the storage room below the tower, closed up the doors, and had a pleasant and uninterrupted night of sleep.


-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Session #4.5 – Tour of the Grounds


After a blissfully uninterrupted night, the group decided to follow it up with another day of rest.  They did make a brief foray into the library and laboratories to collect items of interest for Zalman.  Among these were a number of books and assorted supplies needed to create alchemical or magical devices (including a wand of magic missiles that he was busy constructing).  Throughout the day and the following night, everything was peaceful and quiet.

On the morning of their fourth day at Shadykin’s school, they finally felt fit enough to resume their explorations – all together this time.  Having seen no further threats, they decided the horses would be safe on their own in the courtyard, chomping on the abundant spring grasses and lounging in the shade of the numerous trees.  The group debated between exploring up to the top of the tower under which they’d been camping or continuing to explore beyond the room from which the rust monsters and beholderkin had come.  They settled on going up first, because at least in that direction they knew it only went just so far.

The main floor of the tower had a massive pile of rubble where the stairway up had once been.  They checked the possibility of going in through one of the windows higher up on the tower, but found that they were impossible to open and equally impossible to break.  They settled on going through the rock.  Rurik called upon Moradin’s favor and cast a Stone Shape spell to open a clear path up to the next level.  The second floor they found to have two spacious bedrooms fitted with the worn out remnants of what was once fine furniture.  Quick searches of the rooms revealed a few personal effects, but little else of interest.  The third through sixth levels also had a pair of bedrooms each, again with little of real value.  The seventh level opened into one large circular room stuffed full of furniture, shelves, and knick knacks.  

They soon concluded that this must have been the witch’s living quarters as there was a bed with relatively clean sheets as well as a stew pot that had gone cold but not molded over yet.  While Nigel and Kisty made a thorough search through her belongings, Zalman cast Detect Magic.  The one item in the room that had a magical aura was what appeared to be a large rectangular box made of cast iron that was dominating the top of one of the room’s tables.  It was three feet wide, two feet deep, and about one foot tall.  The entire front side of the item was a door that swung downward.  The inside was empty.  They were perplexed and offered a steady stream of wise-ass suggestions as to what it might do.  Many concluded that it must cook food, for it looked much like a toaster oven.  Zalman doubted that, though, as his Detect Magic revealed it to have divination magic upon it.

Kisty, who had started flipping through the log books strewn around it (she was the only one who could read gnomish), finally figured out what it could do.  She explained from the notes that it would identify the magical nature of any item placed within it.  Several of the group were hesitant and skeptical, worrying that it was a trick and that anything placed inside would disappear or turn into a fresh meat pie.  Zalman offered up an otherwise useless magic item that he had been toting around as a test piece, a wand of Ghoul Touch that they had acquired a while back.  He lacked familiarity with the school of necromancy and could not use it.  So, into the black metal box it went and they shut the door.  Moments later, an ephemeral voice spoke out from seemingly nowhere:  “This is a wand of Ghoul Touch.”  They opened the box and were relieved to find that the wand was still there and had not been turned into a meat pie.

Now confident in the box’s abilities, they started unloading the numerous magic items that they had picked up since their journey began.  Most were fairly minor items, some useful and others not.  Once all were identified, they redistributed them so as to best complement each of the party’s abilities.  They were happy and dubbed this wonderful new item the “Toaster Oven of Identify.”  They also tried to figure out a way to bring it with them.  Estimating its weight as well over three hundred pounds, and finding that it was bolted to the table, which in turn was bolted through the floor, they finally abandoned this idea and pressed on with their investigation.

The only other exit from the witch’s room was a ladder leading to a trap door in the ceiling.  This, they found, led directly to the roof.  There was nothing of interest up there, so they headed back down to the basement of the tower.

(DM note:  At this point in the game, Zalman’s player left town for a month for work-related reasons.  Not wanting to NPC him through what I knew were to be some dangerous times ahead, we instead agreed that Zalman would spend his time cataloguing the contents of the library and studying anything of interest he could find in there.  And so, the group continued without their primary magic support.)

The group proceeded down through the main floor’s trap door and through the rust monsters’ room.  They had already triggered several traps in the hallway beyond during their initial explorations, so they knew what to look for.  The next room, where they had ended their previous foray, was seemingly empty.  It was a relatively small rectangular room with another door and two rough cut hallways leading off from each side.  Directly in front of the door was a concealed pit trap that Kisty marked out in chalk.  Suspicious of more traps, she explored around and found that another concealed pit was placed in front of the other door from the room.  They explored down one of the rough cut hallways and found that it led to a small cavern-like room and then back to the main room.  Based on some skeletal remnants and other circumstantial evidence, they assumed that the beholderkin must have lived (or been kept) in here.

Kisty listened carefully at the next door and thought she could just barely make out a noise beyond…a raspy or scratching sound.  Nigel confirmed this, but could not place it.  They all readied weapons while Kisty opened the door slowly and peered inside.  “Dark,” she told them.  Boaz came up to the front to offer his ability to see in the dark.  “It’s a big room,” he told them.  “There are columns, lots of piles of rubble…stone.  I think there’s something moving around one of those piles, but I’m not sure.”

They whispered among themselves and decided that whatever it was probably already knew they were here.  They agreed to slip into the room and spread out, everyone prepared in case it was hostile.  Boaz with his longsword and Rurik with his battle axe went in and slipped to either side of the door.  Nigel followed with an arrow nocked in his bow.  Kisty, with torch in hand, and Amblin came in last.  They could all now clearly hear a skittering sound among one of the large piles of rubble in this huge underground room.  They didn’t have to wait much longer for a good look at it, though.

As Boaz and Rurik inched closer, a gigantic centipede shot out of the rubble and made straight for the dwarf.  Rurik’s armor deflected its glistening fangs and his own battle axe swung in answer, scoring a hit.  Boaz charged and Nigel let fly with an arrow.  Multiple deep wounds were scored.  Kisty flung a sling stone at it, preferring to keep her distance.  Amblin jumped in and landed a shot, as did his dog Gunther.  The centipede managed one more feeble snap at Rurik before its body gave out and it collapsed in a heap.  

They gave a cursory look through the room but found no more creatures.  The centipede itself measured between thirty and forty feet in length, by far the largest and most disturbing insect any of them had ever encountered before.  Nothing else in the room was of any particular interest.   Aside from the piles of rubble where portions of the ceiling had collapsed, there was absolutely nothing else in this room, not even an exit.  During a slower and more involved search of the room, Nigel noticed that a portion of the wall seemed odd.  The texture of the stones did not seem to match what his eyes were telling him he saw.  Kisty joined him and they concluded that it must be some sort of illusion, a fact that Rurik confirmed with a Detect Magic.  By touch alone, Kisty finally found a latch mechanism hidden under the illusion that activated a secret door.  While she could feel the door opening, the illusion of the wall remained in place.  They poked their heads through the illusion and found that a hallway extended beyond.

(Kisty, a rogue of no small skill, was amazed by the secret door/illusion combination.  Finding a secret door was one thing.  Noticing an illusion is another.  But for someone to have cast an illusion of a stone wall over a stone wall to help conceal what she could now tell was already a well-made secret door was a step beyond anything else in her experience.  She was impressed…and she now knew what to look for.)

The hallway itself was unremarkable and dark.  Stone walls and a heavy wood door at the far end.  The undisturbed dust on the floor suggested to Nigel that nothing had passed this way in years.  While they cautiously approached the door, Kisty made an observation.  “There’s another one of these illusion secret doors over here in the side of the hallway.”  She felt around for a minute and concluded that it also had the same opening mechanism.  Everyone agreed to explore that direction first, as secret door usually had more interesting things to hide.

The door slid open and a short hall opened into a twenty foot square room.  The chamber was filled with tables and shelves, barrels and casks, chests and sacks.  They poked through the various items and found that there was a fair bit of treasure in here – coin, gems, art, and a few magically imbued items.  They decided to come back and sort through it later as there was far too much to haul with them.  Rurik filled a couple skins with a fine (and strong) wine from one of the casks and then the group left, closing the secret door behind them.

They listed at the heavy wood door and could discern nothing.  Kisty verified that it was not trapped and, as it was unlocked, opened it.  Flickering light from the next room filled their hallway as they opened the door into a largish room that had all the hallmarks of a waiting room.  There were several rotting couches, a table with several chairs around it, and half a dozen lit torches in sconces on the walls.  As they slowly entered, they could also see that a small alcove branched off to the left.  At the end of it was a door that was propped open slightly.  On either side of the door stood a pair of pasty white statues of six-foot tall gnomes.  The statues, more than anything else about this room, were unsettling.

Fearing that the lit torches might mean someone lived or had recently been down here, they looked for signs of such but found nothing.  The thin dust on the floor was much like the previous hallway – undisturbed.  Closer inspection of the torches revealed that they were not actually burning but were merely lit by means of Continual Flame spells.  Kisty searched the room, careful to stay well away from the creepy statues, and found two more of the illusionary secret doors.

At some point, Rurik decided that he wanted to know what was through the partially opened door.  As he approached, the two statues closest to the door moved to impose themselves between he and the door.  They did not attack, but they would not let him pass.  This bothered the others, as they figured these statues to be guardians of some sort for whatever was beyond the door.

Rurik was smart enough not to push his luck with the statues, but Boaz was now rather keen on what was transpiring.  As Rurik backed away from the door, the statues returned to their positions on either side of it.  Boaz suggested running past them before they could get into position.  Before long, the two of them managed to get the statues sufficiently displeased with their efforts to get past that they were attacked.  All four statues moved into action and swung heavy fists at the two with some success.  Boaz’s sword was a cleaving disaster for the statues, though, and before too long the fight was over.  Amblin, Nigel, and Kisty had remained quietly out of the fight and out of the way.  Rurik and Boaz were a bit miffed by this, but the others insisted that they had had no desire to mess with them in the first place.  Rurik healed himself, having taken a couple tough hits, and then he stomped off to kick the door open.

Beyond was what appeared to have once been a well-appointed office.  There were a couple chairs up against the wall, faded but elegant tapestries on both side walls, and a pile of ash and cinders where a desk had presumably once sat.  Another door was set in the far wall.  They poked about in the ash, but found nothing of interest, only a few nails, handles, and other metal components of the former desk were all the remained.

The door beyond was unremarkable and it was quiet on the other side.  They opened it and found that it led to another laboratory.  While not as large as some, this one was crowded with interesting alchemical and magical paraphernalia.  It had also been ruthlessly ransacked.  They sifted through the debris, but found little that interested them.  Rurik confirmed that nothing in this room still radiated an aura of magic.  Kisty did find what appeared to be a personal journal among the debris under one desk.  As she scanned through the gnomish writing, she excitedly came to the conclusion that it had belonged to none other than Shadykin, the school’s founder that they had come hoping to find here.  She skipped to the end (a habit she’d acquired when approaching any new book), and read the last two entries:

April 23  “With dark tidings on the horizon, I have taken precautions to protect certain items from falling into the Black Hand’s possession.  A contingency spell placed upon myself will cause this lab to be shifted to a different plane upon either my death or absence from this plane.  I have selected a plane whose properties should ensure the destruction of everything in this room.  I pray that it will not come to this, though.”

April 25 “News has reached me that Gills Dralon of the Hand is coming with his army and I expect that I will have to face him.  I don’t know when, but I refuse to leave my school.  Some students have already left, yet others are unwilling to.  I would force them out if I felt they’d obey.”

The group pondered the meaning of the journal entries.  The fact that this laboratory still existed was strong evidence that Shadykin was both still alive and on this plane, assuming that the lab the entry referred to was indeed the one in which they stood.  They also now knew the name of the wizard who had led his branch of the five armies of the Black Hand through this region.  He was quite possibly the same one who had destroyed their hometown’s predecessor of Selmar.

After they finished searching through the room, they decided to try exploring one of the other secret doors.  It opened into a long and narrow hallway.  After about a hundred feet, a fork split to the left.  Rurik surmised by their travels thus far that they were under the middle of the courtyard.  If they kept going straight, they’d end up underneath the golden dome.  Going left would lead over toward the dormitories.  They decided to continue forward.  After a couple small turns, they arrived at a staircase up to a door.  The door was locked, but Kisty quickly remedied that.  They opened it to find themselves in a small room with a massive set of double doors leading off to the right.  Overlapping both doors was a massive circular metallic gold seal.  Set in the middle was another smaller circle with four keyholes spaced evenly about it.  Kisty inspected them and concluded that while she might be able to open one lock given some time, she would be unable to open all four simultaneously.  If she released one to work on another, it would relock.

Amblin surmised that they would need a special key to open the door.  He also went so far as to surmise that it would probably be some mechanical device with the four keys spaced out on it and a mechanism to turn them all simultaneously.  (DM note:  Amblin’s description of such a key was so uncannily accurate with what I had envisioned that he was eventually rewarded with a Fate Point for it…a generous reward to say the least.)  Not having such a key, they backtracked and took the fork in the hallway.  This led to a concealed trapdoor under a bed in one of the ground floor bedrooms in the dormitory.  They decided to leave the dormitory alone for now.

Back in the room with the destroyed gnome statues, they tried the last secret door.  This also led down a hallway that, after a couple turns, came to a wall.  All of them could tell from this side that it was actually part of a door.  They listened at it and heard nothing.  Opening it, they found that it led into the library in the main school building that they had visited earlier.  They said a quick hello the studious Zalman, pointed out the secret door to him, and then backtracked again.

Having found no other passages or secret doors in the subterranean levels, they decided to head back up the tower and use (bum bum bahh!) the Toaster Oven of Identify to find out what the couple magic items stored in the hidden stores room were.  Again, mostly minor items that they distributed amongst themselves.  Consensus vote at this point was to explore the tallest tower…the one in which Zalman and Rurik had been attacked by the stirges, the one with the mirrored sphere

The ground floor of the tall tower, again, had little but rotting furniture and dust.  There was a small storeroom that held some brooms, old blankets, buckets, and other odds and ends.  They ascended the stairs to the very top where they prepared themselves to deal with the stirges should they still be there.  They weren’t.  The devastated top two floors of the tower were quiet and empty.  A light drizzle and cool breeze filtered in through the missing sections of wall and ceiling.  The lower of the two floors had the hallmarks of a laboratory or study that had been badly damaged and ransacked.  Deeply buried among the debris, they found a small silver statuette of a raven.  Someone tucked this away for later inspection.  

The next level up, accessed by a private stairway, appeared to have been living quarters dominated by a bed, furnishings, and a cold fireplace.  From here, the ten-foot diameter mirrored sphere that was floating between the destroyed floors and wall could best be viewed.  They touched it experimentally and found that it seemed to be completely frictionless…giving it a strange feel.  It was perfectly clean, perfectly shaped, and perfectly flawless.  They tried pushing it (not easy given its frictionless nature) but it would not yield.  They even dragged Zalman up from his studies to take a look at it and to try a dispel magic.  He wasn’t entirely convinced that it was magic because a Detect Magic gave some very strange signals, but he tried anyway.  No effect.  Whatever it was or whatever might be inside it (and some where hypothesizing Shadykin might be inside), they had no way of exploring it further at this time.

Among the debris on this level, though, they did find something of particular interest…something that Amblin had described for them not an hour earlier.  It was a metal plate with four keys extending from one side of it.  On the other side was a small crank and a series of gears and pins that caused all four keys to move simultaneously.  Bingo!  

As the great golden dome was one of the most intriguing and elusive parts of the school, everyone was eager to see what was inside.  They hurried back into the tunnel system and reached the sealed double doors.  Amblin put the keys in place and turned the crank.  With a sudden pop, the seal opened a crack and they were able to pull the doors open.  They opened into what appeared to be a roughly cut tunnel underground that led to bright sunlight and green grass about forty feet up ahead.  This was odd, because they had just noticed it was gray and drizzly outside.  The door had the same key holes on the inside.  Just to be sure they could get back through it from the inside, a couple went through with the key while a couple remained back on the outside and they shut the door.  Amblin then used the key from inside the dome and successfully opened it again.  Satisfied that they would be able to get back out, they all went in and headed toward the sunlight and grassy field.

The tunnel opened upon an idyllic landscape of rolling green hills, copses of trees, and a meandering stream.  The sky was deep blue and speckled with small, puffy cumulous clouds.  Birds chirped in the distance and the warm sun and fragrant breeze soothed their worn nerves.  The horizon extended infinitely in each direction with no sign of the inner walls, which should have been plainly visible given that from outside the dome was no more than a hundred fifty feet in diameter.

It was then that they realized, with a bit of panic, that the tunnel leading to the door was nowhere to be seen.  It, and the door, was gone.



-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Session #5.1 – Journey into the Golden Dome


Our heroes, minus the studious and now much envied Zalman, now found themselves trapped inside the great Golden Dome at Shadykin’s abandoned School for Arcane Arts and Magical Sciences.  When the door and tunnel that had led them into the sunny landscape abruptly disappeared, they were left with no apparent way out.  They had a pretty good idea that the door was about forty or fifty feet back from where they had been, but a thorough investigation of the area, including a concerted effort to disbelieve everything as an illusion, failed to find it again.

Rurik cast a Detect Magic and was nearly overwhelmed when everything in every direction radiated strong magic.  Well, they thought, that made some sort of sense.  They knew that from the outside, the Golden Dome was no more than a hundred fifty feet in diameter.  Inside, it was a seemingly infinite world – sky and all.  A brief debate ensued over the merits of staying in place and hoping the door would reveal itself or wandering around in an attempt to determine the nature of this place.  The chose to wander…after all, the place seemed pleasant enough and had presumably been constructed for some reason.  It almost had the feel of a resort, a natural and safe place to get away from it all.  

Making note of where the door had been in relation to the clumps of trees, a couple small hills, and the meandering brook, they chose a direction at random and struck out.  Aside from a nagging fear of the magically created unknown, they enjoyed the pleasant weather and absence of drooling, snarling monsters jumping out at them.

After about ten minutes of hiking, it began to dawn on them that the landscape around them was changing – literally.  The grassy hill that they had just walked, when looking back, was now a wooded valley.  The stream that had been going off in one direction now seemed to lead elsewhere.  Whatever sense of tranquility that they had been enjoying was now shattered.  They stopped and looked intently in each direction but were unable to discern the changes as they happened.  Either they were too slow and subtle, or they simply didn’t happen when someone was looking in that direction.  Several in the group even had the nagging sensation that the sun was moving around erratically.

Realizing that they had little else to use as reference, they decided to follow the stream for a while.  It seemed to be the only feature that was always within view.  This they followed for several hours, mostly crossing pleasant landscapes of grasses, trees, and hills.  Then the weather changed from cheery sunshine to dark and menacing storms, all over the span of about ten seconds.  While getting quickly soaked in the torrential rains, they concluded that little if anything in this Dome was real, and it certainly didn’t seem to be very stable.

The rains broke a short while later and settled into a dreary gray sky near sunset (or sunrise…they really couldn’t be sure).  Having gotten seemingly nowhere while following the stream, they debated heading back.  While discussing things, the temperature took a abrupt dive and heavy wet snow started to fall all around them, quickly turning the landscape white.  While Amblin didn’t mind the weather (due to his cold resistance compliments of the Minor Deck of Many Things), the others were chilled and ill dressed for the conditions.  They hoped the weather would continue its shiftiness and return to something warmer soon.  On the other hand, they needed to prepare for the worst.  So, they sought shelter among a nearby grove of pine trees and made a small fire.

While pondering options and bandying about theories on how to escape from the Dome, a nearby voice chimed in:  “Pardon me, but you’re not from around here, are you?”  It was a white-tailed deer that had apparently asked the question, having snuck up to the camp through the darkness and the snow.  They admitted that they were and pointed out that they were in a bit of a bind as they really wanted to get back out of the Dome.

The conversation continued for a while with the deer answering their questions as best it could.  An owl, a couple rabbits, half a dozen squirrels, and a raccoon all joined in as well.  The animals all knew of Shadykin, and regarded him fondly, though they had not seen him in a long time.  They recognized that the weather and landscape here was not as stable as it had once been.  When asked why, they attributed it all to Digger.  Digger, apparently a badger who lived nearby, had been progressively losing his sanity, and his moods and thoughts seemed to have a substantial impact on the local environment.  The animals could not explain why Digger had this sort of influence on things, but they did mention that Digger was one of Shadykin’s friends from the “other world.”  The animals also knew of the door out of the Dome, but did not know how to find it.

(The players were getting strong flashes of déjà vu…Disney movies, mostly…)

The deer who had struck up the conversation (they apparently didn’t have names) offered to lead them to Digger’s home.  The animals seemed to hope that the group might be able to help the insane badger and perhaps someday bring Shadykin back.

Digger’s home was little more than a mound of grass-covered earth with a hole in one side leading down.  The deer left them without risking getting any closer.  The weather had cheered up a bit, all the way to a steady drizzle.  Amblin crept up near the hole but decided that climbing down such a tight hole after an insane badger was probably not a good career move.  They called to him from outside.

“Digger?”

“Go away,” growled a voice from far below.  The raindrops got a bit bigger.

“We’d like your help getting out of this Dome.”

“I said, Go Away!”  The wind picked up.

“We also understand you knew Shadykin.  We’re looking for him and could use your help with that as well.”

Silence.  The rain let up a bit and even threatened to stop altogether.  A few moments later, the striped face of a badger poked out of the hole and eyed them over.  “What do you know of Shadykin and how did you come to be here?”

They went on to explain that they had come to the school in hope that they would find Shadykin still here.  They needed his help in restoring Rurik’s face from that of a lion back to his own charming dwarven mug.  They also spoke briefly of the condition of the school, the amount of time that had passed since the war, and of the last journal entries Shadykin had written.

Digger, they found, was not quite as insane as they had been led to believe by the other animals.  He was just very moody and didn’t have much to live for now that his master had been absent for so long.  Digger was Shadykin’s familiar and had been ushered inside the Dome for fear of the impending attack by one of the Black Hand.  Shadykin had never come back for him.  After some time alone in the Dome with the animals, Digger had tried to return but found that a crack had developed in the device that operated the innards of the Dome and was causing it to malfunction.  The malfunction caused ripples of instability and prevented him from finding the location of the door leading back out.  He tried to fix it but only made it worse.  An entire chunk of the machine had broken loose and caused the area immediately around it to warp into a nightmarish parody of reality.  Dangerous creatures and traps abounded and it was all Digger could do to escape that pit with his life.  He could not bring himself to risk trying to fix it again.

“So”, the group summarized, “we have to find and fix the magical mechanism that runs the insides of this Dome in order to find the door that leads back out?”   (Without our wizard, too…how convenient…) 

“Yeah,” Digger replied.  “That’s the short of it.  And if you pull it off, you’d better be taking me out of here with you.”

“Guess we’d best get going.  Where is the device located.”

“It’s just over there,” Digger pointed.  Had it not been for this creepy, shifting landscape, they might have wondered how they could have possibly missed the dark pit just off in the distance.  It was a sheer edged pit over a mile in diameter that was filled with a dark gray fog of unbelievable density.  “There’s a road leading down into it.  The device should be in the very center.  And be careful, ‘cuz there are lots of nasty things down there.”

“Like we haven’t heard that before…”

The group headed off toward the Pit (of Certain Unpleasantness) and had no difficulty in finding the road leading down.  Essentially, it was little more than a ten foot wide ledge with sheer wall on one side and sheer drop off on the other that wound around the inside of the Pit, slowly angling downward.  The gray fog was so dense that visibility beyond five feet was poor and beyond ten feet was impossible.  They looked at one another, looked at the Pit, and then headed down – staying single file, against the wall, and within five feet of the person ahead of them at all times.


-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Session #5.2 – Bunnies and Jellyfish and Turtles


The group cautiously descended into the thick fog of the Pit (of Certain Unpleasantness), staying tight to the cliff wall on their left and within reach of the person ahead and behind each.  The path they walked was smooth stone with a gradual slope downward.  About ten feet to their right was a sheer drop off into the fog.  To satisfy their curiosity, they tossed a stone over the edge and were unable to hear it hit anything on the way down.

The further down they went, the darker it became as the fog blotted out the “sun” above.  The mute silence of the fog had everyone on edge and each was convinced that there were shapeless shadows flitting about just at the limits of their vision.  An hour went by before they had their first encounter.  From upslope, a soft pitter-patter began to grow quickly in intensity and from the fog emerged a horde of fiendish bunnies.

The little critters resembled ordinary bunny rabbits except in two critical aspects:  first, they had beady, glowing red eyes;  second, they had a nasty disposition.  About fifteen of the bunnies launched themselves through the air, latching onto anyone they could sink their sharp little fangs into.  The group jumped into action, cutting up the bunnies, tossing them over the edge, and pounding them into pulp.  Boaz was particularly effective, cleaving the rabbits four or five at a time with his flaming long sword.  Aside from a few nasty little bites, they dispatched the horde effortlessly.  Well, all except for momma bunny, that was.

As the last was tossed into the foggy void, a series of thuds shook the very ground.  Something big was coming toward them.  Weapons at ready, they were peering intently into the fog when a rabbit fully ten feet long and pushing a ton in weight came crashing into their midst.  The fight with momma was a bit tougher, and they found that the hind legs were more of a threat than it’s dagger-sized front teeth.  Amblin took a nasty kick square in the chest with both hind legs and was flung into the cliff wall.  Everyone else immediately did their best to not find themselves between the rabbit and the open hole of the Pit (of Certain Unpleasantness).  Several rabbit bites later, they finally managed to beat the rabbit to death.  

Rurik healed up Amblin and treated some of the more minor wounds while Nigel and Boaz worked to cut some meat from the big momma rabbit (it seemed to be normal).  They didn’t know how long the journey to the bottom would be, and they had virtually no food with them as they hadn’t expected to be stuck inside the Golden Sphere.  As they had already been going for most of the day and Rurik was low on spells, they decided to take a rest here, keeping a double watch and sleeping up against the wall.  They actually managed some nervous but uninterrupted rest.

Once Rurik had finished his prayers to Moradin, they headed back down the slope.  Rurik volunteered to take the lead as he was the most heavily armored in the group and no one expected to have much warning of anything coming at them.  Nigel and Boaz followed with Amblin and Kisty taking up the rear.  While moving along, the ground changed from solid stone to sand.  Nigel’s highly tuned elvish ranger eyes noticed immediately when Rurik’s feet abruptly stopped making tracks in the sand ahead of him.  Nigel called a halt and poked ahead with the end of his bow.  It sank down into the sand directly below Rurik.  Quicksand, he concluded.  Why wasn’t the plate-mail clad dwarf sinking like a stone?  Then Rurik reminded him that one of the magic items he was wearing was a Ring of Waterwalking.  Counting themselves lucky that one of the others hadn’t found a quicksand pit the hard way, they continued on with Rurik in the lead and Nigel using the end of his longbow to search out and avoid the multitude of other quicksand traps.

A short distance later, while still in the midst of the quicksand trap area, five forms coalesced from out of the fog over the cliff ledge.  Five jellyfish, about two feet in diameter with three foot long tentacles, came floating directly at them.  Just as they came into reach, four winged piranha dropped out from within the tentacles of each jellyfish and swooped in to attack.  While the flying piranha alone could only cause small bites and were easily killed, the jellyfishes’ tentacles caused a nasty little paralysis.  Nigel, with one of the strongest fortitudes, succumbed to the first lashing by a jellyfish and fell to the ground in a helpless heap while the piranha gnawed away on him.  Boaz cleaned out a couple piranha before he too fell to paralysis.  The others, watching their two strongest fighters falling so quickly, fought back frantically with efforts focused on taking down the floating jellyfish first.  

Kisty, with the weakest fortitude of the group, managed to endure four consecutive lashings from the jellyfish before she brought the closest one down.  Rurik and Amblin had mixed success, but finally started to drop jellyfish.  Boaz was the first to recover from his paralysis and he started a mad hack and slash through the remaining attackers, flaming sword cleaving everything in reach.  Nigel, bleeding from well over a dozen wounds and in dire shape, finally shook off his paralysis and joined Boaz in a relentless slaying of the creatures.  Together, the group finally finished off the last of the jellyfish and finally the flying piranha.  They healed up Nigel and tended to everyone else’s wounds as best they could without depleting all of Rurik’s magic.

Worried about what they might find next, they cautiously continued onward.  About five minutes later, the sandy path widened from ten feet to beyond their ability to see through the fog.  With the others staying firmly in place up against the wall, Rurik and Nigel followed the widening edge out until it reached a width of about thirty feet from the wall.  It also came to a pool of standing water that extended from the wall to the edge of the cliff.  A one foot wide stone retaining wall kept the water from spilling over the cliff.  The water was murky and obscured by fog, so they could not determine how deep it was, nor how wide.

Nigel and Rurik returned to the others and reported what they had seen.  Having little alternative but to cross it, they decided upon the best approach.  They settled on giving Amblin the Ring of Waterwalking and let him use his exceptional monk speed to run across it and evaluate the distance across and find out what was on the other side.  He dashed across and found it to only be about thirty feet across.  The far side was another sandy bank and the trail appeared to narrow back to ten feet wide again.  As he was trotting back across the water, a creature lurched out of the water and took a good chunk out of the back of his leg.  Making it back to the others on sheer momentum, the group heard the unknown monster splash back down somewhere in the fog in front of them.  Rurik healed Amblin as they backed away from the shore.  Time for more planning, they decided.

No one was willing to walk along the narrow retaining wall with an unknown creature on one side and a sheer (bottomless?) drop off on the other.  Swimming was out of the question as well.  They only had one ring of water walking, and if these creatures were quick enough to snap at a running Amblin, the others would easily be taken by it.  Fighting seemed an equally foolish option.  Finally, Rurik came up with a strategy.  Being a cleric of Moradin, he could perform a few tricks with stone.  With Boaz and Nigel guarding him, he got as close to the retaining wall as he could.  He called upon Moradin’s favor and cast Stone Shape.  He caused a six inch wide gap to appear in the retaining wall, extending away and at a shallow angle downward.  Through the gap in the wall, a waterfall spontaneously erupted and the water level quickly began to drop.

While the angle of the gap he’d created wasn’t quite perfect to drain all the water, it was sufficient to change the thirty-foot wide pool into a mere ditch of water.  A pair of large, shiny black snapping turtles was left stranded on the shore on their side.  The group surrounded the creatures and attacked.  The turtles’ hides appeared to be made of some sort of metal and were very resistant to attack, but eventually gaps were found and both were slain.  The turtles both put up a fight, but were too awkward on land to be much of a threat.  

They checked the remaining water and, finding nothing, crossed and continued onward and downward.  The path changed from sand back to stone after a while and they stopped worrying about quicksand traps.  Another obstacle presented a challenge, through.  A chasm cut through the path they walked down.  The fog was just thin enough here for them to be able to see that the far side was between ten and fifteen feet away, dropping off into the foggy void below.  Amblin and Boaz were both fairly confident that they could jump across.  Nigel thought that he could climb across on the rough face of the wall on the left, but he wasn’t keen to try if he didn’t have to.  Rurik and Kisty were left wondering how they could make it across.

Seeing little other choice, Amblin pulled off his last remaining 24-foot wood ladder from his Robe of Useful Items and laid it across the chasm.  One by one, they crawled across on their hands and knees.  Problem solved.  They didn’t want to have to carry the ladder with them, so they pulled it across and laid it against the wall of the Pit (of Certain Unpleasantness).  Onward down the narrow path they went.


-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Session #5.3 – Fungi and Sunflowers


Thus far on our intrepid heroes’ journey into the depths of the Pit (of Certain Unpleasantness), they had encountered a horde of fiendish bunnies and their mother, a squad of floating jellyfish complete with a swarm of flying piranha, a pair of giant metallic snapping turtles, and a narrow chasm.  No one had died yet.  So far, so good.

They continued to wind their way single file down the Pit’s ramp, the fog continuing to press in heavily.  After another hour of walking, the path widened out again.  They scouted ahead only to find their way more or less blocked by a forest of violet and green fungi that stood several feet taller than they were.  The crowns of the fungi formed a nearly continuous canopy, but the stalks were generally spaced a couple feet apart from one another.

After Boaz’s run-in with a Violet Fungus not a week earlier in the young green dragon’s cave, no one was too eager to get close or to try to pass through.  The fungi appeared to spread completely between the wall and the cliff, though, so they concluded that going straight through was the only option.  Nigel, one of the more nimble in the group, risked a closer inspection of the fungi.  The fungi appeared to be completely inert and inactive.  He even risked stepping in between a couple stalks and further into the forest.  Again, nothing happened.  He slipped back out to report that these fungi appeared to be nothing more than overgrown specimens.  He did note large amounts of spores on the undersides of the crowns and highly recommended against bumping into any fungi while passing through.

They started through the fungi, spaced enough apart that they could still see one another and yet have room to negotiate the forest of stalks without bumping any.  Kisty, Nigel and Amblin, all being rather nimble, had little difficulty getting through the hundred or so foot width of the patch.  Rurik with his dwarven girth and Boaz with his half-orc height, in concert with their less-nimble reflexes, were not quite as successful.  Both bumped into fungi stalks almost immediately, and were showered in clouds of orange spores.  They could feel the spores working at a clouding their thoughts, but both were able to shake off the effects and complete their way through the patch.

On the other side, the path again narrowed to its usual ten-foot width and continued down and around the Pit.  For another hour or more they continued until it again began to widen, this time for a small forest.  The rough bare stone of the path gave way to dirt and grass, trees and bushes.  Even the fog thinned out here, increasing visibility to a good thirty feet or so.  The forest appeared to be rather wide and quiet.  Having encountered a challenge or danger every time their surroundings changed in the slightest bit, they were very cautious as they entered.  Keeping close to the side wall of the Pit, they tried to move quietly through the otherwise silent forest.

Nigel, with his finely tuned elvish ranger senses, spotted the approach of a large bear through the fog after they were several hundred feet into the woods.  Unlike all the previous “animals” they had encountered in the Pit, this bear appeared to be a perfectly normal specimen.  It did not take an immediately aggressive stance, so they held back and waited to see what it wanted.  The bear confidently walked right up to them, sniffing the air as if looking for something.  Finally, it came right up to Rurik, severely testing the dwarf’s resolve.  It planted its nose squarely on his backpack and started nudging it around.

“It can smell the rabbit meat we cooked up yesterday,” Nigel surmised.  Everyone else started to get nervous, knowing that all their packs contained some of the meat.  The bear seemed content to poke its nose down into Rurik’s pack until it found the food it sought and pulled it free, then swallowed it.  Everyone else emptied their packs of the food slowly so as not to startle the bear.  Nigel slowly herded everyone around the bear and through the woods while it collected the morsels of food scattered about.

As they pushed on through the woods, the bear followed along.  It seemed to be more curious about them than interested in harassing them for more food.  While the group was a bit uncomfortable, they decided to let it follow.

After another fifteen minutes of hiking through the woods, the fog began to thin and they could see sunlight peeking through the canopy overhead.  As they continued forward, they could see what appeared to be the edge of the forest.  At this point, the bear stopped following them.  It watched for a few moments while the group left the forest and then returned into the dark depths of the trees.

Reaching the edge of the forest, the group looked out upon a bowl-shaped field, several hundred yards in diameter, basking in brilliant sunlight.  Around the left side of the bowl, the cliff face of the Pit rose hundreds of feet.  To their right, the forest continued a short way and then opened up to the cliff edge of the fog-filled Pit.  About a third of the way around the bowl to their right, a narrow stone bridge, almost natural in appearance, stretched away into the fog.  This appeared to be the only way to proceed from the massive bowl.  Centered in the bottom of the bowl was a patch of what appeared to be shiny sunflowers surrounded by a narrow swath of wavy grass.  Seeing no immediate threat, they sat down along the edge of the forest to rest and recoup for a few hours.

Once ready, they decided to stay along the edge of the forest and then along the edge of the cliff as they made their way for the stone bridge.  There was no hint of trouble until they were about halfway to the bridge.  Amblin, leading the way, experienced a bright flash of light and sudden increase in temperature to an extreme degree.  Thousands of the shiny sunflowers had bent in such a manner as to focus the reflected sunlight directly at him.  All of them started running desperately once they realized what was happening.  Amblin and Boaz, both superhumanly quick, made it to the bridge with only minor burns.  Nigel started to take the brunt of the flowers focus next, getting moderately burned.  Kisty, realizing her short legs would make her a target for a long time, took a different approach and ran straight for the flower patch and dove underneath the canopy of flower heads.  Rurik decided to follow Kisty’s lead and dove in right behind her, only heating up slightly.

Once on the bridge, Amblin and Boaz found that the flowers were no longer able to track them.  Either that, or they were focused too intently on Nigel.  Badly burned, Nigel finally made it to the bridge and collapsed.  Kisty and Rurik found themselves safe under the flowers as they couldn’t get a good angle on them.  Together, they worked their way over toward the edge closest to the stone bridge.  They could just make out the others in the fog on the bridge, waiting for them.  It was a good hundred feet of ground to cover.  Taking a deep breath, they both bolted out simultaneously, weaving side to side in hope of keeping the flowers from being able to draw adjust quickly enough to hurt them.  Kisty, unencumbered by bulky armor, was quicker and made it to the bridge safely.  Rurik, being slower, was the closest target and took the brunt of the reflected sunlight.  He was soon cooking in his armor, but due to the relatively short exposure he made it to the bridge and into the fog with only minor injury.

Rurik healed up the injuries they had incurred and they prepared to continue on.  At the moment, they were back in the dense fog, on a five-foot wide stone bridge.  Behind them was a field of flowers with a nasty disposition.  Ahead was unknown, but likely bad.  To either side, thick fog, a brisk breeze, and a long fall.  No one was happy with this arrangement.

Everyone crouched low or crawled across the bridge, fearing to be buffeted off by sudden strong gust of wind.  About two hundred feet further, the fog again cleared and the bridge widened out, splitting left and right.  They were standing on what essentially amounted to a ring of stone – a ten-foot wide swath of stone with a diameter of about a hundred feet.  The stone ring had a sheer drop-off both on the inside and out.  In the very center of the ring was a single column of stone rising up to a small platform.  Stretched between the ring and the platform, just below their level, was what appeared to be a spider web comprised of barbed wire.  A few feet below the taut web was a greasy black smoke that roiled about like water waves.

Centered on the platform was a small pedestal with some assorted items resting upon its top.  Also, a chunk of the pedestal appeared to have fractured and fallen to the platform, scattering about some of the (stone?) items.  These were, they surmised, the broken controls for the entire Golden Sphere…the reason they had come down into the Pit (of Certain Unpleasantness).  

The barbed wire, while daunting, appeared to be both taut and strong enough to support the weight of a person attempting to cross the fifty feet of web to reach the pedestal.  The question on everyone’s mind was the same:  What had made this web, and was it still around?  They found their answer soon enough…


-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Old note pasted in...


Shadykin's Golden Dome, which our heroes are now stuck within, was originally a paradise retreat and magical experiment of sorts. While the players found the previous encounter with all the friendly talking animals to be very Disney'ish, the descent into the Pit (of Certain Unpleasantness) was more like going into a dark Lewis Carroll world. The creatures were warped and dangerous imitations of reality. This was all to help represent how the reality of the sphere grew more and more twisted the closer they got to the faulty mechanism controlling the artificial world. I had fun concocting each encounter.

The next little bit they faced was a departure from twisted animals to twisted plants. They had a particular dislike for the bowl-shaped field of sunflowers. This was liberally borrowed from the Ringworld series...those who've read it will know immediately what I'm talking about.

While I was fond of the floating jellyfish and flying piranha combo, I think the encounter at the very center of the sphere was my favorite. Hang in there, it's not much further.

-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

As I alluded to previously, the scene with the sun-reflecting sunflowers was borrowed liberally from Larry Niven's Ringworld. Just giving credit where credit is due. It certainly caught all of the players completely by surprise. They knew something about the bowl-shaped field of sunflowers was suspicious, but little did they know what was coming.

The next bit, with the gang trying to fix the magical device in the center of the barb-wire spider web is among my favorite RP scenarios of all time. It was exciting, daunting, and completely chaotic. I wasn't sure any of them would survive. Alas, I get ahead of myself...

-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Session #5.4 – The Mechanical Spider


While inspecting the barbed-wire spider web, Amblin placed a foot squarely on the intersection of two strands.  It was taut and strong enough to hold his weight.  Balance would be required to cross in this manner, but the intersections between the strands were close enough together that even if he fell he should be able to easily catch himself.  While testing his weight, a bolt of blue energy coursed along the webbing from just around the other side of the central pedestal in a heartbeat and hit Amblin in the leg.  It numbed him, but did not do any permanent damage.  

It was about that time that Kisty, slowly working her way around the edge, spotted the source of the energy blast.  What appeared to be a giant mechanical spider was perched on the far side of the pedestal, underneath the barbed wire web.  The webbing obscured the view, but its ten-foot leg-span made it hard to miss.

Given their injuries and Rurik’s lack of spells remaining, they retreated back to the bridge to rest.  Double watches were posted, but nothing appeared out of the fog to harass them.  Once rested, they returned to the ring around the spider web where they discussed different strategies for trying to get across.  They had no idea how dangerous the spider was, but they planned for the worst.  What they finally settled on was something like this:  Rurik would cast Sanctuary on himself, putting his faith in Moradin while crossing the pit.  Once he reached the pedestal, he’d do what he could to fix the Dome’s controls and hope for the best.  The others would work to support him or distract the spider as best they could in the meantime.

Plans sometimes go awry.  Sometimes they never even get started.  Sometimes half-orcs poke at things they shouldn’t…again.

Boaz, bored by all the planning, had wandered around the ring to the far side where he could get a better look at the motionless spider.  The fighter tried poking his head just under the web to get a look.  The spider remained motionless.  Boaz then took out his sword and started tapping on the webbing with it.  The spider reacted very quickly by firing a line of barbed wire directly at him.  It narrowly missed the half-orc as he lurched backward.  Intrigued by the fact that this spider could shoot barbed wire at a distance, he wanted to know more.  So, crouched behind his shield so that most of his body was covered, he tried tapping on the web with his sword again.  This time the spider didn’t miss.  The barbed wire hit his shield straight on and stuck to it.  Faster than he could move, the wire had wrapped around Boaz and his shield several times, lashing him helplessly to it.  Then, the spider jerked back and pulled the bound fighter fully onto the webbing.  Five bolts of blue energy later, the half-orc was unconscious.

The others, who had not been paying much attention to Boaz, were shocked when they saw their friend bound to his shield, lying on the web over the Pit, and being electrocuted into unconsciousness.  Time to change plans on the fly, they decided.  Amblin, with his incredible reflexes and sense of balance, decided to try to run across the webbing while the spider was still distracted with Boaz.  He made it fully halfway before a bad step sent his leg between a few strands of webbing.  Sharp barbs sliced his leg open and he was stuck in a bad way.  The spider was quick to react and darted around the pedestal to get a couple shots of webbing off at the pinned monk.  None of them connected, though, and 
Amblin was able to pull himself out and reached the stone column at the center of the web without further harm.  He laid flat so the spider would not have a good angle to hit him with webbing.

Meanwhile, Kisty was busy flinging sling stones at the spider as best she could to distract it away from Amblin.  Nigel was helping Rurik hastily shed his armor so that he might more easily make it across the web to try to repair the device.

Amblin took a quick look at the small pedestal and at the pieces scattered about its top.  It was a smooth stone cylinder about 1’ in diameter and 2’ tall.  Set in the center was a large green gem.  Around it in a circle were seven slots where smaller pedestals of varying heights sat…or rather would have been sitting if a large slice of the column hadn’t been cracked off.  Three of the seven small pedestals were lying upon the ground next to Amblin.  It was clear to the monk that the smaller pedestals were supposed to be placed around the circle in order from tallest to shortest.  Upon three of the four remaining pedestals were polished stones of varying colors.  One had no stone.  Littering the ground among the fallen pedestals were four other polished stones.  Green electricity was arcing from the larger stone in the center to each of the smaller pedestals in sequential order.

Fixing the controller seemed at once a straightforward and difficult affair.  He figured the base pedestal would have to be fixed first just so the three smaller ones could be placed back into their positions.  Then, he’d have to figure out which of the four remaining stones went where.  That, he realized, might be very tricky.  The stones were non-descript in shape and size.  Colors were all earth tones: black, white, brown, gray, reds, and others in between.  There was no clear order to them.

As Amblin related what he was seeing in the middle of the web to the others, still pressed as low as he could to stay out of the spider’s line of fire, Kisty remembered something.  She stopped slinging stones and ran over to Boaz, jumping onto his back.  Quickly, she stuffed her hand between lines of barbed wire and pulled from his backpack the jar of Sovereign Glue that had been stashed there.  Before the mechanical spider even noticed her presence on the web, she had jumped back off.  She handed the jar to Rurik as he finished removing his armor.

With Kisty heading back to take position near Boaz, Nigel went to the opposite side of the web and drew his bow.  Rurik, halfway between the two, cast Sanctuary upon himself and hoped it would be enough to protect him from the spider as he climbed across it.  Nigel and Kisty would do everything in their power to keep it distracted…just in case.  Rurik only makes it two steps onto the web before he slips and falls through the webbing.  He is easily able to catch himself, but is cut up and very exposed to the spider.  The mechanical spider shifts its attention to the dwarf and even moves as if to launch a web at him, but hesitates and does not fire.  With a silent prayer of thanks to Moradin, Rurik pulled himself back up to the top of the web and decided to crawl across the rest of the web, enduring the damage the barbs would do to his hands and knees.

In the meantime, Amblin tried placing each of the four loose stones upon the one small pedestal that was empty.  Each time he tried, the central green gem gave him a nasty shock that caused the stone to be knocked off.  He guessed that it might only be possible to place the loose stones once all the small pedestals were back in their proper location.

Kisty’s sling work, while doing little to damage the spider, is keeping its attention for a while until Nigel one-ups her.  He climbed out onto the web a couple feet, crouching so that he could hold on with his hands.  He started bouncing up and down to shake the web and get the spider’s attention.  It worked.  The spider came around the central pedestal and moved toward him.  As Nigel tried to hop back off the web, his brilliant idea lost its luster.  A fumble roll later, he slipped and fell almost all the way through the web.  Before he could even begin to pull himself back up to safety, the spider nailed him with a barbed wire web.  He was able to extract himself from most of the first volley of webbing, but as he tried to pull himself up he fumbled again.  He started to free-fall toward the inky black fog just below the web.  The only thing that prevented him from falling forever down into the unknown depths of the Pit was the last bit of barbed wire webbing still wrapped around his leg.  As the wire pulled taut around his thigh, the barbs tore into his flesh, but it held.  The spider followed up the first web with another one that firmly wrapped Nigel up.  Bound in barbed wire, suspended upside down by a single strand of wire above a bottomless pit, and with a giant mechanical spider approaching him, Nigel was furious beyond words.  Several zaps of its subduing electricity failed to have much effect on the elf as he had wisely cast Endure Elements: Electricity upon himself before venturing out onto the web.  The spider did, however, bite him with a poison that sapped his strength.

While Nigel bravely sacrificed himself in the name of distraction, the dynamic duo of Rurik and Amblin weren’t exactly working miracles while trying to fix the Golden Dome’s controls.  Amblin poured the Sovereign Glue on the broken chunk of pedestal that Rurik was holding while the dwarf had it lined up to reattach.  Two really bad dex rolls later, Sovereign Glue was all over the chunk of stone as well as Rurik’s hands, and the broken piece ended up about half an inch too high once affixed to the base.

**** Pause in the action ****

As a DM, I’d like to point out that at this very moment, I don’t things have ever looked so grim for a group that was ever playing one of my games.  It wasn’t grim in the sense of a fight going bad because the party got in over their heads…rather, it was more that everything they tried just went very badly.  Two consecutive fumbles by Nigel on the web, a 3 and a 2 on the dex checks by Amblin and Rurik to reassemble the controls with the Sovereign Glue.  Boaz already well out of the picture.  It just didn’t look like things were going to be getting any better.  They didn’t.  At least, not before they got worse.

**** Resume action ****

So, to recap where our heroes are:  Boaz is bound in barbed wire, lying unconscious on the web.  Nigel is bound in barbed wire, hanging underneath the web and weakened severely.  Amblin is cut up and “helping” reassemble the magic controls.  Rurik’s hands are glued to the chunk of pedestal that he just failed to reattach in the right spot.  Kisty is seriously weighing her options…stay and help or take her chances going back up and out of the Pit.

Did I mention that things were about to get worse?  Well, neither of the guys in the middle noticed when the spider’s attention turned from the helpless Nigel back to them.  A volley of barbed wire missed the back of Amblin’s head by mere inches.  He threw himself flat on the ground while Rurik summoned the sheer force of will needed to rip his hands free of the pedestal.  Peeved, he didn’t even bother to stop to heal himself.  Instead, he cast a Sonic Burst at the spider, which failed its save and was stunned.  Given that it was climbing upside down along the web, it stun caused it to lose its grip and it fell into the inky black depths.  Finally, a victory!

No longer worried by the threat of the spider, Rurik and Amblin tried to replace the small pedestals into their grooves in the larger ones top.  The poorly placed chunk, however, prevented them from standing upright very well.  Rurik tried casting Mend and found that it succeeded in shifting the stone back to its proper location.  “Should have tried that before screwing with that glue,” he thought to himself.

With all the small pedestals in place, they tried replacing the loose stones.  However, no matter how they tried placing them, the green gem kept zapping them back off.  A circular groove around the circumference clued them into one more mechanism of the strange controls.  They rotated the inner plate a quarter turn counterclockwise and a cylindrical stone shield of sorts rose up out of the base and blocked the green gemstone from the smaller pedestals…

…And everything around them disappeared.  Nigel and Boaz, no longer bound by barbed wire, plummeted nearly sixty feet and landed hard on the metal floor of the inside of the giant Golden Dome (which turned out to actually be a perfect sphere some 150’ in diameter once the power was turned off).  Some distance off to the side, Digger the badger tumbled and rolled down toward the others.  Rurik and Nigel were still standing next to the controls on a suspended platform in the very center of the sphere.  Kisty, likewise, was standing on a circular catwalk around the controls.  They noticed, disappointedly, that there was no door out of the sphere with the power turned off.

Nigel and Boaz were both still alive, but very injured and very unhappy.  Digger was banged up, but not as badly.  He was able to clue Amblin and Rurik into the nature of the loose stones that they sought to place back into their correct locations.  He couldn’t recall exactly how it worked, but he thought it had something to do with the cycle of the day.  Before trying it out, they pulled everyone up to the control platform and Rurik dispensed some healing to at least keep everyone from immediately bleeding to death.

Still not entirely sure which stones went where, they made their best guess and then moved the shield back down to turn the power on.  They guessed wrong.

Thick clouds of dust borne on strong gales of wind assaulted them from all directions.  Powerful discharges of static electricity injured several of them before they could get the shield back up and the power off.

Studying the stones again and debating their options, they settled upon another arrangement and turned the power back on.  They were rewarded with a beautiful, idyllic landscape.  Soft green grass, blue sky, gentle warm breeze, and chirping birds in the distance.  What was an even more beautiful sight to the group, however, was the clearly marked exit in the side of a hill not a stone’s throw away.  Together, they stumbled out of the Dome and proceeded directly to Shadykin’s underground lounge where they began the long process of resting and healing.


-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Session #5.5 – Back Just in Time (abridged)


After finally escaping from the malfunctioning-but-now-fixed Golden Dome with Shadykin’s familiar badger Digger, the group filled the studious Zalman in on all their misadventures.  Two days were spent largely just hiding in Shadykin’s underground lounge, resting and healing.  They did briefly explore the few remaining places in the school but found little of interest aside from a kitchen with a Bag of Devouring being used as a garbage disposal under the sink (what else in a school of wizardry?). While there, someone came calling.

The Lady Shele, the cleric of Ehlonna who they had last seen in New Selmar almost three weeks earlier, had tracked them down using various divinations.  When asked, she told them that she had been keeping tabs on their whereabouts since they had wandered off into the world.  Then, just a few days ago, she could no longer sense them.  So, she had come looking.  They surmised that the insides of the Golden Dome must have had some sort of extra-dimensional properties that had blocked her divinations.  She was happy to see them alive and well.

Digger was keen to see his master returned, but was unable to directly sense his presence.  Everyone agreed that he was most likely trapped within the frictionless mirrored sphere up in Shadykin’s old private quarters.  Shele tried using a number of powerful spells to undo the spell but nothing worked.  She then cast a Commune spell and through some carefully worded questions, they determined that he was trapped in stasis and that only from a perspective outside the normal flow of time could they hope to free him.  Shele and Zalman, between their knowledge of the Planes and the resources of Shadykin’s library, determined it might be possible to save him from the demi-plane of Time.

Shele prepared to cast a Plane Shift.  She was limited in how many others she could take, so they settled upon Boaz, Amblin, and Rurik.  Nigel, Kisty and Zalman would remain near the stasis field on the Prime Material.

Once the spell was cast, they found themselves in a surreal and constantly shifting world.  On the demi-plane, they quickly learned that they could see an echo of the Prime Material, but they could also consciously shift their perceptions through time – forward or backward.  They had more pressing concerns, though, as a form of 7-headed hydra was quickly upon their position (they had arrived in the foothills of an unknown mountain range).  Boaz bravely charged the beast and was nearly killed for his effort.  Rurik held his position to defend Shele while she was digging through her pack for a spell scroll.  Amblin tried to flank the hydra while it was focusing on Boaz.  He considered fleeing after seeing what it did to Boaz, but instead went for a stunning blow.  It actually worked (the hydra rolled a 2 on its Fort save) and he stunned the huge beast with a blow in the, well, genitalia.  As Boaz and Amblin both backed up, Shele unleashed a vicious Flamestrike from her scroll.  The beast wasn’t killed, but it chose to flee rather than face another blast of divine fire.

Shele cast Air Walking on everyone and used magic to discern the location of Shadykin’s school on this plane.  Upon arriving, they found that the mirrored sphere was visible here just as it was on the Prime Material.  In the strange shifting of time, though, they could also see overlapping times before the tower had been damaged and before it had even existed.  More curiously, there were half a dozen mysterious creatures grouped around the sphere.  They were vaguely humanoid in shape, but no more than two feet tall.  They had no facial features.  Skin tones were bright – blues, yellow, and orange – and they had assorted gems embedded in their flesh.

As the group carefully approached, the creatures appeared not to react at all.  They seemed to be focusing very intently upon the sphere.  Cautious verbal communication with them got nowhere.  Finally, one of the strange beings initiated a telepathic conversation with Rurik.  Their thinking was very alien and it took some serious effort to learn who they were and what they were doing here.  He concluded that they were some sort of native to this demi-plane, and that they were literally feeding off the potential energy created as the time stream tried to flow around this localized distortion.  They insisted that Rurik and his companions not do anything to disturb their source of food.  Shele was fairly certain that she could Dispell the effect from here, but was concerned about the strange creatures.

Amblin hit upon an idea.  He had Rurik tell them about the Golden Dome and how the inside of it was a very strange place with unusual properties.  Possibly it could serve as an alternative source of food or energy for these creatures.  They sent one of their number along with Amblin who showed them the Dome and how to gain entrance to it.  When they returned to the others, the creature announced that the Dome would indeed serve as an excellent source of food and they would willingly part from the stasis field.  Shele Dispelled the stasis field…and just that quickly there was nothing there.  She then Plane Shifted them back to Shadykin’s so they could see if their efforts had worked.

On the Prime Material, Nigel, Kisty and Zalman had gathered near the sphere to wait.  As there was now a ten foot drop underneath it, Shadykin had a bit of a fall when the stasis was finally dispelled.  Bruised and very much surprised, it took the old gnome a few minutes to come to accept all the strange news the party had for him.

Shadykin recounted in vivid detail the attack by Gills Dralon, one of the dreaded five archmages of the Black Hand, and his vile minion upon the school.  Gills and Shadykin had dueled in his tower and then the evil wizard had hit the gnome with a spell he was unfamiliar with (the stasis field).  The very next moment, from the old schoolmaster’s perspective, he was free falling ten feet through the floor of his lab to his apartment and over twenty years had passed to the rest of the world.  He was greatly saddened by the loss of so many of his students, yet grateful that the war had been ended.  In appreciation for the risks they took in undoing the spell that had trapped him, Shadykin rewarded each with a magic item from his private stores that he kept in a deep cave several miles from the school.

To Boaz, he gave a magical flask that could turn alcohol into a potion that temporarily enhanced strength and hit points.

To Amblin, he gave a vest made from the hide of a displacer beast.  At will, it could reproduce a displacement effect similar to that of the beasts.

To Nigel, he gave an ancient elven quiver.  Several times a day, it would allow him to draw arrows imbued with certain magical properties (explosive, splitting, or tangible anchored rope).

To Zalman, he gave a quarterstaff that upon uttering of a command word became utterly unmovable and unbreakable.  This effect would last up to 1 hour each day, though it didn’t have to be used all at once.

To Rurik, he gave a magical shield with the symbol of Moradin upon it.  In addition to its protective properties, it enhanced the cleric’s ability to turn undead and to heal others with divine power.  (Shadykin was very pleased to have found a worthy cleric of Moradin to give this particular item to.)  In addition to granting each of the group a choice magic item in gratitude, the wizard was also happy to return Rurik’s head to its regular appearance from that of the lion it had been for the better part of the last month. 


-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Session #6 – URG’s in the Woods (abridged)


Now that Shadykin had been returned from his imprisonment in a stasis field created by Gills Dralan, one of the nefarious Black Hand wizards, and the remains of his old school cleared out of undesirables, the group had to decide what was next on their agenda.  The ultimate goal of their journey, as outlined by Lord Stephen, was to make contact with other cities in an effort to return with lost knowledge and establish trade routes.  Shadykin’s school, no more than a week’s ride from New Selmar, proved it could be an excellent resource of magical power and knowledge.  Lady Shele, who had spent much of the last two decades wandering this part of the land, told them of a small, unnamed village about a day and a half’s journey to the north, still within the bounds of the Ironwood Forest.  Everyone agreed to go check it out before returning to their trip East to Kisty’s home city of Water Break.  Kisty chose not to join the others on this little side trip, instead offering to help Shadykin sort through the ruins of his school.

While camping en route to the small village, the group was beset upon by some stealthy manner of creature.  It was Zalman’s owl familiar Hooty, hunting in the area, who noticed their silent approach.  When the others were aroused, they prepared to receive their assailants.  Then the arrows started flying – they were being attacked.

Boaz, being one of only two who had darkvision, charged in the direction of the bowstring twangs.  Rurik did his best to follow behind.  Amblin, while blind, used his sense of sound as best as possible and tried to move up.  Nigel slipped through the woods, trying to get close enough to get a mark on one of their assailants.  The fight was quick and ended with the two assailants fleeing into the night after launching a few more arrows.  The group chose not to pursue, being unfamiliar with the terrain and unable to see very well.  They doubled up watch for the balance of the night, but were not disturbed again.

The next day, they made it to the village by late mid-morning.  The found a disturbing scene with a smattering of bodies lying about and signs of struggle everywhere.  A quick survey of the crude dwellings indicated that the attack had likely been within the last three or four days.  One of them spotted a young boy, watching them from behind a building.  He was human, at most 8 years old, and clearly in shock.  He wouldn’t speak immediately, but he also didn’t flee.  Amblin got the boy to warm up to them by getting him to play with his dog for a bit.  Finally, the kid told them of how their village was attacked one evening, just after sunset.  He couldn’t identify the assailants, though he was pretty sure they were bigger than most men.  Those villagers they hadn’t killed outright were taken off to the east.  Nigel found the trail with no difficulty.  Leaving the dog with the kid in the village, they set out to find what had happened to the villagers.

They followed the trail through the woods for almost two hours before coming upon a small stone building almost completely overgrown in the deep woods.  Just as they came within sight of it, they spotted a figure watching their approach from the doorway to the structure.  It closed the door behind it as it retreated back into the building.  No one had gotten a good enough look to identify it.  Cautiously, they approached.

The building was about 10’x15’ and almost 10’ tall with steeply sloped slab stone roof.  The door was also stone, and under the vines they could just make out an engraved symbol – Erythnul, god of Slaughter.  Hmmm…that didn’t sound very good.  Rurik, servant of Moradin, was particularly displeased with this discovery.  While they knew nothing that they would find within this building was likely to be very nice, they couldn’t leave knowing that innocent folk had been dragged back here.  So, in they went.

As they opened the door, the attack they expected was not forthcoming.  It was dark, musty, and quiet.  The stone building merely housed a long stairway down.  Drawing out several of the Continual Flame torches they’d acquired from under Shadykin’s school, they slowly descended.  

The stairway opened upon a large square room.  A closed door in the opposite wall was the only apparent exit.  Along either side of the room, a series of stuffed trophies were on display.  Among these trophies were a number of game animals (deer, elk, and boar), worgs, an ogre, several elves and humans, and a centaur.  Grizzly, to say the least.  They half expected the trophies to animate and attack.

The doorway out led to a short hall that ended in a T.  At the intersection, the hall extended both left and right another twenty feet to doors.  Directly in front of them was another door, along with the clear blood trail indicating the prisoners had been taken this way.  Two long desiccated orc corpses lay on the ground to the left of the doorway.  They cautiously opened it, fearing a trap, but again nothing happened.

Beyond was a long, dark hall that sloped downward.  They eased their way down this until it leveled out and widened into a sort of antechamber.  Hundreds of weapons, shields, and other bits of armor adorned the wall in front of them.  More trophies, it would seem.  A large, stone double doorway was also set in the wall.  Crude depictions of hunting scenes were engraved in the stone all around the door.  The trail led directly through them.

Weapons at ready, they opened one of the doors and slipped inside.  The chamber beyond was so long that their torchlight failed to illuminate its inky depths.  It was forty feet wide and lined with wide stone columns.  Very faint sounds could be heard from the darkness far ahead.  Then the hail of arrows erupted.

Several of the group were hit in the first volley, easy targets standing out in the open with torches aloft.  They scattered to both sides of the room, seeking shelter behind the columns.  Nigel finally got a bead on one assailant – a bowman also taking cover behind a column a bit further down the room.  Bow fire was exchanged in both directions as the companions slowly started to work their way down the room one column at a time.  Boaz and Rurik, not predisposed to ranged tactics, charged down the left side of the room and were quickly upon the first of many undead gnolls.  The foul beast was dressed in ancient hardened leather armor.  It dropped its longbow and reached for a longsword and hand axe that had been propped up against the backside of the column.  Amblin started a similar charge up the right wall of the chamber under the covering fire of Nigel’s bow and Zalman’s new wand of magic missiles.  Crossfire from other bowmen hidden further back in the dark caused everyone to become greatly concerned about the wisdom of their tactics (or lack thereof).

Eventually, most of the URG’s (undead gnoll rangers) engaged in hand-to-hand combat.  While this was the favored form of combat for most of the companions, they were distraught to find that the two weapon fighting style of the URG’s was equally deadly and they were taking as good a beating as they gave.  In the midst of the heated melee, several arrows from the far end of the chamber continued to pluck away at them.  A small horde of zombies then moved toward the fray – clearly former villagers.  Rurik had already tried turning some of the URG’s, but met with only limited success, so he chose to stick with his trusty axe.  Zalman saw the approaching horde of zombies as an excellent opportunity to try out one of the news spells in his repertoire, compliments of Shadykin:  Fireball.

At least eight of the zombies were obliterated and several others scattered in the fiery concussion.  During the brief flash of light, they spotted a large group of villagers clustered together at the end of the chamber around a large stone sarcophagus.  Three UGR’s were standing among them, launching a steady hail of arrows that were withering down the companions.  Zalman targeted one of the big URGs at the end of the room and launched his magic missile wand.  It returned the favor with a few targeted arrows.

As the URG’s in the middle of the chamber were finally dispatched, the three remaining URGs left the cover of the motionless villagers and charged, drawing longswords and axes.  Of the three, one charged Boaz and the other two (one of whom was considerably taller than all the others had been) charged Zalman.  Boaz, who had already single-handedly dropped half a dozen of the URGs, finally fell to a nasty critical hit from the URG lieutenant’s longsword.  Rurik, the closest, knew that even Moradin’s healing could not save his friend from such a terrible wound.

For the first time, one of their own members had fallen fatally in combat.  And, judging by the strength of the three remaining URGs and the severity of the remaining party’s injuries, they were afraid he wouldn’t be the only one to go down.

The URGs clearly had enough intelligence and sense of tactics to know to go after the spell-slinging wizard first.  Zalman found himself severely outmatched as they brought their weapons to bear on him.  Amblin and Nigel threw themselves recklessly at the two URGs attacking their friend while Zalman did his best to stay out of their way and launch a couple magic missiles whenever possible.

Rurik, with the fury only a dwarf can muster in combat, engaged the lieutenant URG who had just slain Boaz.  Somehow, he managed to both survive and prevail against the undead monstrosity.  Amblin and Nigel similarly managed to slay the other lieutenant while the ancient hunter-king beat Zalman into unconsciousness.  While the URG king was a fearsome and deadly foe, he quickly fell once surrounded by the enraged threesome of Rurik, Nigel, and Amblin.

The fight was finally over.  Rurik healed their wounds sufficiently for them to offer help to the villagers and then went off to administer last rights to his slain companion.  The villagers were in bad shape – wounded, dehydrated, or already dead.  There were few they could even rouse to consciousness.  Rurik summoned water, which they forced down the throats of those still alive.  He depleted the rest of his healing magic to get enough of the stronger villagers back to consciousness to help tend the others.

Before departing, they searched the remaining rooms in the complex.  One was simply a storeroom for weapons and other basic gear.  The other was a crude shrine to Erythnul.  

The story eventually came out that a hunting party from the village had stumbled upon the old stone shrine a few days earlier.  They could only assume that they must have disturbed the rest of whatever foul creatures resided within and were subsequently attacked.  Boaz was given a simple burial near the village, heralded as a hero among the surviving villagers.

Two days later, the surviving villagers were strong enough to make the trip on foot over to Shadykin’s school.  While this was a difficult decision to make, the villagers had finally agreed that they were now too few in number to safely live on their own out in the dark woods.  Shadykin’s school, while in a bit of a shambles, was still built like a small fortress and would afford them protection from the elements and roaming beasts common to this area.  The old gnome was very happy to have them move in – offering protection and shelter in exchange for their services in helping rebuild.

One of those captured by the URG’s was not, in fact, a native to that village but rather was a simple traveler and wandered from an elven community not too far away.  His name was Robyn Steele, an odd elf but a pleasant enough sort.  He offered to show them the way to the elf village, a week’s journey to the east – the direction they wanted to head to get to Water Break.  Two weeks of rest later, they took him up on the offer, mounted their horses, and said their good-byes to Shadykin and the others.


-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

My apologies if the details of that fight with the URGs was not entirely accurate in its details. It was a long time ago and I don't have good notes from that time. I'm pretty sure that in addition to Boaz dying, Zalman lost his last fate point. It was pretty rough going, but this was in large part due to poor tactics. 

I think the URGs were all level 2 or 3 rangers. The lietenants were level 4 and the king was level 7, or thereabouts. I think the entire party was well into 5th-6th level by this time. When I read up on them, the ranger favored class sounded like fun. Making them undead kept the players a bit off base (what kind of undead use longbows and dual-wield weapons?). Their size and strength allowed them to hit pretty hard in combat.

-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Session #7.1 – The Life and Times of Robyn Steele


With their new found acquaintance Robyn leading the way, the group set off from Shadykin’s eastward.  The elf was to lead them by his home village, a settlement of no more than a hundred elf war refugees that was about a week’s journey on horse.

During the trip, Robyn tried his best to get into the good graces of the group, seeing them as an adventurous bunch to travel with.  They, however, had a cooler reception to him.  They had just lost the first member of their party, they had all grown up together, and they were all on a mission from the leadership of their hometown.  Robyn was an outsider.

Three days out, a nasty summer storm swept upon them in the early evening.  While seeking shelter in a small wooded area, they were set upon by a pair of trolls.  The trolls were among the tougher foes they had yet faced, and the need to use fire to kill them was made difficult by the torrential downpour.  Zalman was nearly killed by the second of the pair who had charged in from behind while the others were dealing with the first troll.  Tactical use of a couple tanglefoot bags followed by a heaping helping of fire-based spells and Nigel’s flaming longsword finished off the beasts.

The very next night, they were attacked in the middle of the night by a dire wolverine.  They hardly broke a sweat.

The night after that, they were disturbed by an owlbear.  They were also growing weary of the constant interruptions to their efforts to sleep.  Amblin, who was on watch when the creature approached, charged in to fight in spite of his poor human night vision.  The owlbear managed to grapple the monk while the others were launching attacks in retaliation – Zalman with magic missiles, Kisty with her sling, and Nigel displaying incredible marksmanship with his bow.  Robyn tried to put his bow to good use, but accidentally plunked an arrow into Amblin’s leg.  When the owlbear was dispatched, the monk had some unkind words for the newcomer.  This did little to further endear the elf to the party, but would set the stage for the irony of ironies yet to come.

The sixth day out, they crested the top of a large hill and looked down upon a broad valley full of thousands upon thousands of bison.  They decided to go around the herd, skirting to the right side along the hill tops and among the trees as possible.  Not quite halfway to the next woods, they noticed that they weren’t the only ones observing the herd – a large red dragon was preying upon them.  The group made a dash for the trees, except for Amblin, who felt it wiser to retreat back to the hill they’d just come over as it was closer.

From the safety of cover, they watched as the dragon hunted.  Once fed, it belched a gout of fire through the herd and flew off to the north.  Amblin finally caught back up with the others.  Much disagreement and anger was sparked among some of the party due to Amblin’s unwillingness to follow the party’s leader (Nigel) and thereby put the party at greater risk by splitting up again.  Zalman was particularly peeved and a few sharp barbs tossed his way courtesy of Kisty put him in a truly foul mood.  With everyone on edge and most refusing to speak to one another, they continued onward.

Mid-afternoon the next day, they finally approached the village and were greeted by a pair of sentries.  While the group was warmly welcomed to the small community, it was clear that the elves were reserved in their enthusiasm with Robyn’s return.  They were introduced to Healana and Noalas, the husband and wife leaders of the village, who offered them use of a small hut and announced that a small feast would shortly be held in their honor.

Dinner was a pleasant affair.  They ate with the members of the community on long tables under the trees.  Food was simple but tasty, served with wine.  Rurik hid his disappointment at the lack of ale by drinking even more wine.  The others spoke of their journies, their home of New Selmar, and potential trading opportunities between the communities.  The elves were receptive to the idea and offered to give it further consideration.

Joining them at the dinner table was the eldest elf in the village, a wizard by the name of Tehloan.  His apprentice, a young elf by the name of Sinea, took an instant liking to Nigel and flirted shamelessly with him.  Zalman took a keen interest in the elder wizard and arranged to meet and discuss matters wizardly at noon the next day.  Amblin was happy to enjoy the music and food while letting the others talk on matters of their own interest.  Kisty spent most of her time playing with the young children of the village, showing a heretofore unseen gentle side to her nature.

Rurik, while pursuing a state of drunkenness in quiet solitude, was accosted by two elvish brothers shortly after the meal was complete.  He was not keen to speak with them until they produced a seemingly steady supply of wine for him.  They asked if he had any knowledge of the operation of mines, refining ore, and metal work.  As any full-blooded dwarf and cleric of Moradin, he answered that of course he was.  The pair explained that the community had a shortage of metal and that they were considering trying to mine parts of a long abandoned dwarvish iron mine not far from the village.  They had surveyed bits of it earlier in the week were curious as to whether he’d be willing to join them on a short trip there tomorrow to provide expertise on the matter.  The flattery worked.  As no one had any pressing plans to leave right away, Rurik’s companions agreed to let him go.  Amblin was game for tagging along and Robyn, friend with both of the brothers, was also invited.

Nigel, meanwhile, had arranged a dinner date on the following evening with the young wizard apprentice.  They would meet on the shore of the nearby pond for a picnic after her studies were complete for the day.

The next morning, the mine-exploring party departed on horse for their day trip.  Kisty was off teaching the children new games.  Zalman was studying, awaiting his appointment with the wizard.  Nigel was bored and wandering about the village when Healana came upon him.

She commented upon the beauty and apparently quality of both his bow and quiver.  Nigel was only too happy to show them to her.  Talking shop led to an impromptu archery competition a ways away from the eyes of the rest of the village.  They took turns splitting arrows and scoring bullseyes until the elder elf finally edged out Nigel.  He was impressed, as was she.  She asked him what he knew of the Order of Arcane Archers.  Little, he replied, but he was eager to learn more.  Healana spent the rest of the day teaching him the basic teachings of the Order, basically initiating him to their ranks on the spot.

Zalman met the apprentice at their shared two-room house.  Sinea was studying a strange magical object that had been retrieved just a couple days earlier by the two brothers exploring the mines.  It looked like a softball-sized egg made of smooth brown stone.  Writing was inscribed upon it.  The item had come in a small wood box.  She had made little progress with it.  Tehloan, the wizard, came out of his room at this point and discusses the item with Zalman.  Zalman produces his magic candle from his bag and lights it, causing the strange words on the egg to become decipherable: Incarnate, Chaos, Mylocon.  Tehloan returned the egg to its case and suggested that Sinea work on other studies for now.

The master led Zalman to a cramped room, shooing away his squirrel familiar.  For hours they discussed magic and some of their experiences.  Zalman was intrigued by the differences in their teachings, and yet saw some similarities.  His own master, Sangelais, was an elf, after all.

Shortly after noon, the mine explorers reached the old shaft.  The remnants of old houses and buildings surrounding it had long since fallen into disrepair and been overgrown by the surrounding forest.  The shaft led directly into the side of a large hill.  Rurik’s assessment suggested that the mine had not been used in close to a century.  They wandered around a bit, checking the structural integrity of side tunnels and ore grade.  It would take some effort, the dwarf knew, and some tunnels had already collapsed, but it might be workable again.  The ore grade up near the entrance was poor, though.

As they ventured further back, the pair of elves noted where they had found a small wood box with a magical item resembling an egg earlier in the week.  The spot he indicated was up against the wall in the main corridor leading back.  One of the brothers had dabbled briefly in magic and recognized the item as being powerful enough for him not to dare messing with, so he had turned it over to the wizard to study.  

They pressed on until they came upon a wider chamber with an open pit.  A winch mechanism with chains indicated it was an elevator shaft.  They couldn’t see the bottom.  As they were about to press onward, a strange noise came to them from further back in the mine…almost like whispering.  Unsure what it was, they positioned themselves about the room with weapons drawn and waited.  

Just as they caught the first glimpse of something coming down the passageway toward them, the volume of the whispering went from soft to very loud.  It was a maddening garble of gibberish that penetrated deeply into their minds, confusing and stunning several of them.  Amblin, unable to shake the effect, found himself lashing out at Robyn, the nearest person, as if he were a foe.  Several rapid strikes from the monk pummeled the poor elf.  Robyn was able to shake off the mind effects emanating from the monstrous blob of eyes and mouths that rounded the corner long enough to get a clear look.  Rather than get away from the insane monk, though, he chose to take a shot with his bow at the gibbering mouther.  This afforded Amblin an attack of opportunity, which knocked Robyn into unconsciousness…and down the elevator shaft he was standing right next to.  (Payback for getting an arrow in the leg?)

One of the elvish brothers fled the mines in magically induced fright.  The others, witnessing the actions of Amblin and being repulsed by the horrific appearance of this creature, decided to follow suit.  Amblin was horrified at what he had just done.  With his mind once again clear, he chose to flee and contemplate the implications of his actions later.  Outside, they mounted up and returned hastily back to the village.

Meanwhile, Nigel met up briefly with Zalman after the wizard’s afternoon-long discussion with his elvish counterpart.  Nigel thought that Zalman was looking a little pale, but thought nothing more of it as he hurried off to his picnic dinner.

Sinea was already waiting for the ranger on a patch of soft grass near the pond.  She looked sweet and innocent, her thin dress splayed out about the ground.  They shared a pleasant dinner and a bottle of wine as the sun made its decent through the woods.  The mood was right, the moment had come, and the leaned toward one another to kiss…

…but Sinea suddenly went into convulsions.  Nigel was helpless watching her break out into a furious sweat, her body taut and thrashing about the ground.  He yelled for help and a dozen elves appeared in moments, surrounding the girl.  She eventually stopped thrashing and settled into unconsciousness.  They decided to take her back into the town proper and seek better help.

Zalman, not feeling terribly well, decided to retreat to the hut lent to them rather than eat dinner.  While laying upon his bedroll, he went into spasmodic convulsions as well.  His empathic link with Hooty triggered a panic in the familiar.  Zalman tried to get up, to get to the door, but collapsed into unconsciousness.

Nigel was frantic, unsure what to do about the girl.  The village had no clerics and only an herbalist with much skill in healing.  They laid her upon a table in the middle of the town while Nigel went looking for Zalman, the next best alternative without Rurik around.  When he reached their hut, however, he found Zalman and immediately made a connection between the two.  He carried the wizard outside and laid him beside Sinea, then went in search of the villages elder wizard.

The wizard’s hut was seemingly empty, aside from a pair of squirrels in the back room.  Nigel went back outside and searched for any signs of forced entry or unusual tracks.  Nothing.  He went back inside and found that the squirrels were paying an usually keen amount of attention to him.  With a bit of deduction and nodding or shaking of heads from one of the squirrels, Nigel concluded that:  1- one of the squirrels was quite possibly the wizard and 2- something inside a small wood box sitting on the apprentice’s desk was not to be touched but might somehow be involved.  Nigel returned to gathered townsfolk with two squirrels in tow.

Rurik, Amblin, and the pair of elves returned about this time.  They were still shaken from their own experience and were surprised at what was going on here in town.  Nigel dragged Rurik over to the pair on the tables.  Rurik immediately noted that neither Zalman nor Sinea looked like themselves.  Both looked swollen and pale and, well, different.  

Rurik cast curative spells, but nothing seemed to cause their conditions to improve.  As the assembled people continued to watch, it became clear what was happening to the two.  Zalman was assuming the form of Sinea, and Sinea was assuming the form of Zalman.  Within a half an hour, the transformation was complete and both returned to groggy consciousness.  When they were told what had transpired, they were at once shocked and surprised.  That the elder wizard had been turned into an exact copy of his familiar was now quite obvious as well.



-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

The situation with the red dragon and the herd of bison led to some of the first truly heated in-character in-party roleplaying and fighting. Zalman was incensed that Amblin continued to split off from the rest of the party and that Nigel was neglecting to take a more proactive role as the group's leader. Everyone else was irked by Zalman's condescending tone. Kisty was just frustrated by everyone's childish behavior (she is pushing middle-aged, btw).

It was much fun to let the players go off on each other in character. This would also set the tone for inter-party dynamics for quite some time to come.

-Rybaer


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## Rybaer

Okay, everything above this point is pasted over from the old message boards.  I'm still about 10+ sessions behind where the group is at right now, though.  There is much coolness still ahead.

Tonight's session...the group must try to face what they believe to be an undead mind flayer that may or may not be stalking them.  I think it's making them nervous.  Too bad I'm so far behind on posting...


-Rybaer


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## Zalman

Zalman spoke to Nigel and Amblin with a very condescending tone.  Zalman didn't realize he was doing it, but I did.  Let me explain my thinking...

Zalman: Young, powerful, very intelligent. He sees things from the view of the very logical and it irritates him to no end when others don't.  I decided that at this point Zalman would have enough and throw a slight temper-tantrum. (although Zalman would not see it as such)  During the role playing our resident thief, Kisty, was poking fun at Zalman while he was 'fussing' Nigel and Amblin.  Well, this pushed Zalman's temper and he cast buring hands on a deer we were getting ready to eat, successfully charring the hell out of it. (Kisty was saying something about cooking it)

Zalman was shocked by his outburst.  He had never used his his power in rage.  He was quiet for several days, choosing to let things cool down and looking into himself a little.

From that day on he never questioned (openly) Nigel's leadership or Amblin's motives.  He quietly deferred all conversations of lodging, introduction, etc. to Nigel.  Zalman has been thinking about his purpose in life.  What he is here for.  It has to be more than finding new trade routes for the city of New Selmar.  But what...?

Recent events with a mindflayer (not yet detailed on the message board) have caused him to revist these thoughts with fervor.  

Why Am I Here?


----------



## Rybaer

Session #7.2 – Into the Mines


When last we left our heroes, Zalman had transformed into a perfect replica of the young elf-maiden Sinea.  Sinea, meanwhile, had taken on the appearance of Zalman (white hair and all).  The elvish community’s elder wizard, Tehloan, was now a squirrel.  The means by which to undo the effects were beyond all present except possibly for Tehloan, but he no longer possessed the faculties to cast a spell.  The strange egg-like stone artifact recovered from the mines seemed the most likely culprit.  As they retraced their interactions with the item, it became clear that any who handled it had taken on the form of the next person or creature with whom they’d had physical contact…after about a six hour incubation time.  They tried reversing the process by retouching the egg.  Only time would tell if that would work in the case of Sinea and Zalman.  For Tehloan, it was not a possible solution.  Everyone was exhausted and agreed to meet again the next morning to further ponder the matter.

A couple hours after everyone had settled to sleep, a knock came at the companion’s door.  Sinea (in Zalman’s form) poked her head in an called out quietly to Zalman.  She indicated that she had been studying the artifact and believed that she might have learned something of use.  She led Zalman, as well as most of the others, back to the wizard’s home.  The egg was laying out upon her desk.  She handled the egg with a pair of sticks, setting it spinning gently.  As it slowed, it reversed direction and came to a wobbly halt, pointing roughly northeast.  She spun it a second time, and again it came to a halt pointing in the exact same direction.

“Where is the mine that this thing was found in?” Zalman asked.

“Oh, right about the direction that thing is pointing in,” Rurik replied.

“Figures.”

It seemed likely that the egg was pointing toward something.  A few wild thoughts were thrown out, but no one had enough evidence to support anything beyond speculation.  They agreed to sleep out the rest of the night and decide how to proceed in the morning.

At dawn, the companions met with Sinea, Tehloan the squirrel, and the leaders of the village Healana and Noalas.  As Zalman and Sinea were still stuck in the other’s body, the theory of reversing the egg’s power was dismissed.  Finding whatever the egg was pointing toward seemed the next logical choice.  Even if it did not lead them to a cure, it might lead them to someone or something that could provide more of a clue.  Secure in its wood box, the egg was packed for the trip.

Sinea and Tehloan agreed to come along on the trip.  Tehloan, in spite of his inconvenient form, still had the wisdom and intellect of a powerful elvish wizard.  Healana and Noalas insisted on sending along another of their community, Findus, an archer and warrior of no small skill, to add additional support.  

One other alternative means of solving the riddle of the egg would be to contact Shadykin.  Armed with a copy of the wording found on the egg, Amblin was sent off on a marathon back to the wizard’s home.  (The player was to be absent for a number of weeks.)

The rest of the companions, along with Kisty, packed up their essential gear and mounted their horses.  The journey to the mines was quick and uneventful.  They paused frequently to spin the egg within its wood box, and it unerringly pointed them toward the entrance of the mine each time.  Tying up the horses, they proceeded into the dark depths of the abandoned iron mine.

Before they made it much past the entrance, Rurik called a halt.  Digging in his pack, he pulled out a small ball of beeswax he’d picked up earlier in the morning from the village.  He split it into small bits and encouraged everyone to stuff it in their ears, “Fer when we run into that nasty critter again.”

They quickly and cautiously moved back toward the shaft.  They paused again at the spot where the brothers had pointed out they’d found the egg.  A thorough inspection revealed no clues.  The egg continued to point further back, and ever so slightly downward.  On they went.

As they reached the shaft chamber, Nigel and Findus scouted down the passage from which the creature had last appeared while everyone else took up a defensive posture in the more spacious chamber with the elevator shaft.  The two elves pushed further into the dark corridor until the faint gibbering sound could be heard through the wax in their ears.  They quickly retreated back to the others and indicated that it was coming.

Just as it came around the bend, the volume of the horrid gibbering increased immensely.  The wax helped several resist its confusing effects, but still two were affected:  Sinea bolted back toward the entrance in terror and Findus turned his bow on Zalman.  Only because he was prepared for the possible effects of the creature was Zalman able to narrowly dodge the shot, and he retaliated by trying to pin the elf against the wall with the immovable effect of his staff.

The others launched every missile weapon they could at the grayish blob of eyes and toothy mouths while Rurik charged with his axe.  The creature’s vocal abilities were potent, but the soft body could not endure the pummeling it took.  By the time Rurik reached the creature, it had collapsed into a formless sack of goo.

Sinea and Findus quickly returned to themselves, apologizing for their failure to resist its effects.  All told, though, they were surprised at how quickly and easily the thing had fallen.  A search of the hallway from which it came revealed little more than a couple dead ends and a smelly room that must have been the gibbering mouther’s lair.

They used the well-aged but sturdy winch to pull the elevator platform up to their level.  It was noisy enough that anyone down below was likely to hear them.  So, they kept arms ready at hand as they lowered themselves back down the shaft. 

About fifty feet down, they came to a dark side passage.  They locked the elevator into position and began a cursory exploration.  The dust on this level lay heavy with little but small animal tracks.  They explored several side passages but found nothing.  Rurik weighed in with his dwarven assessment that the former miners had dug some exploratory shafts but gave up on this level and continued to dig downward.  Back to the elevator they went.

Another eighty feet down and they reached the bottom of the shaft.  The passages leading off from this chamber seemed of better construction.  Nothing was waiting for them, to their relief, but the telltale clanking of metal on stone in the far distance indicated that this mine wasn’t as abandoned as they had originally thought.  A wide hall led off both left and right.  Nigel inspected the floor and concluded that there was too much regular traffic through here to discern any specific tracks.  It did appear, however, that heavy carts were regularly moved through the hall.  The sounds of mining came from the left, so they chose that direction.

Several side passages, chambers, and dead ends later, they reached a section of the mine that was much rougher than the well-cut sections near the shaft.  They were close to the sounds of tools breaking rock.  With the echoes, it was difficult to tell how many people were mining, but it was likely close to a dozen.  Rurik, with his keen darkvision and knowledge of mining operations, agreed to scout ahead alone.  The clanking of his plate armor was of little concern given the ambient noise.  The others waited back in one of the hallways for his return or cries for help.

He made it up to a wide, rough chamber where the several wide pillars blocked his view of the far end.  The sounds of mining were loud and clear here, though he was unable to spot the workers without risking exposing himself to the lack of cover.  He watched another couple minutes and caught brief glances of smallish figures – kobolds, he suspected, but couldn’t be certain.  Finally, he returned to the others to report what he had learned.

In the hall, they discussed the pro’s and con’s of ambushing the unknown miners versus leaving them alone and trying the other direction from the elevator.  Before they could reach a consensus, the unmistakable sound of a squeaky cart started coming their direction from the mining operation.  Quickly and quietly, they got around a corner and concealed all light sources.  Rurik, the only one with full darkvision, took point just around the corner.

As the leading edge of the ore-laden cart rounded the corner, Rurik leapt out and swung his mighty dwarven war axe.  In the split second it took for his axe to connect with the nearest target, he was able to confirm with a grim satisfaction that it was indeed a kobold – two of them, actually.  Rurik scored a critical hit (the first with this weapon) and lopped the creature’s head off and got his axe lodged in the support timber of the hallway.  Kisty brought out her continual flame torch, giving Nigel enough light by which to leap around the corner and tackle the remaining kobold.  Spotting no others kobolds, they quickly moved the body, the captive, and the cart down a side passage.

A couple of the party spoke Draconic, so the ad hoc interrogation began.  There was considerable dispute among the party as to how they should treat the kobolds.  On the one hand, they were known to be inherently evil.  On the other, the party were the invaders in what appeared to be the kobold’s home.

What details they could get from the frightened kobold went something like this:  He was a simple miner, and his clan was working this mine for its iron.  They made ordinary items and weapons with it.  They had been here for a number of years – he couldn’t be more specific.  The rest of his clan lived further down the opposite direction from the elevator shaft.  He also told them something about a dragon that they worshipped and left offerings for.

“Dragon, eh?” the party asked, rhetorically.

“Which direction is that egg-thing pointing?”  They checked.

“More or less in the direction of the kobold’s lair, and further back in the mine.”

“And the kobold says there’s a dragon down that way?”

“Yup.”

“Figures.”



Next session:  The (5th-6th level) party learns what a couple dozen kobolds are capable of.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Session #7.3 - Kobolds, Kobolds, Kobolds


After determining they wouldn't get much more useful information out of the scrawny kobold miner, the discussion turned to what to do with him next.  Several were of the opinion that kobolds were inherently evil and he should just be destroyed - quickly and humanely.  Others argued that they were in fact invaders in the kobolds' home and the kobolds as of yet had not been problematic for the local elvish village.  Eventually, they settled on knocking him unconscious, tying him up, and leaving him in an abandoned mining cart in an unused side passage.

As the group worked their way back in the direction of the kobolds' living quarters, the passage changed from well-cut dwarven tunnels to more of a natural passage with crudely cut walkways.  They caught a glance of a kobold watchman just as he scurried off into the distance.  With the element of surprise lost, they chose to keep a tight formation rather than get strung out in a futile pursuit.  Indistinct gutteral yells in draconic from up ahead indicated that they were getting close to the den and that a welcoming committee would be waiting.

Around a bend, the narrow passage opened into a vast chamber.  To their left, a steep pit full of loose and jagged rock.  Ahead, the footpath turned and ascended up a smooth-cut ramp.  High above the ramp was a platform.  Beyond that, they could see little for the darkness.  All was eerily silent.

Sensing an ambush, the group was hesitant to enter rashly.  Rurik and Nigel, having the best darkvision, agreed to sneak along the wall and try to see what was on the far end of the chamber from the top of the ramp.  Kisty, Sinea, and the squirrel kept their torches hidden back in the hallway while Zalman and Findus watched with a wand of magic missiles and bow in hand.

As Rurik and Nigel got about halfway up the ramp, the expected ambush was sprung.  Half a dozen kobolds lying above the ramp started raining tanglefoot bags down upon the pair.  Rurik got stuck by one of the gooey bags and Nigel, who had already started retreating, was forced to come back and help cut him out.  The kobolds quickly switched to crossbows and opened fire.

Findus could just barely make out forms moving in the darkness and was having trouble picking a target, so he started moving further into the room.  Zalman cast light upon a stone and hurled it up above the platform.  Once he could see a couple targets, he blasted a pair of kobolds with his wand.

Rurik and Nigel, having just finished cutting free the dwarf, were about to flee back when a sound from the top of the ramp caught their attention.  It sounded like a very large something rolling on stone.  Realizing they were already beyond the halfway point up, they changed plans and charged up the ramp, trying to engage the kobolds at a more intimate range.  

Findus held position near the bottom of the ramp, trying to pluck off any kobold who showed himself above the ramp and covering the charge of the others.  Zalman raced up the ramp with Kisty close behind.

Rurik and Nigel, just as they neared the top, found the source of the noise.  Half a dozen kobolds were rolling a 2' diameter, 8' long stone cylinder (basically a column on its side), right for the ramp to mow down any still trying to come up.  Nigel leapt up to the higher ground above the ramp and Rurik dove right over the top of the rolling column into the kobolds.  Zalman, running to the top of the ramp, firmly planted his staff in front of the now quick rolling column and commanded it immobile.  The column came to a crunching halt.

Nigel, with flaming longsword in one hand and shortsword in the other, dropped several of the remaining kobolds above the ramp.  Rurik hacked away with his axe and dispatched several of the "rollers."  A couple of the others had turned tail early enough to escape down one of two tunnels leading out of this upper section of the chamber.

Once there was no more immediate threat, Zalman retrieved his staff and everyone assembled at the top of the ramp.  The magic egg was checked once again and it clearly pointed toward the rightmost of the two exits.  Off they went that direction.

The passage was narrow and twisty and the rough nature of it indicated it was more natural than man-made.  It widened again into a straight, fifty-foot long smooth cut stone passage.  At the far end, it turned left.  Rurik, having the best vision and heaviest armor of the group, led the way.  Zalman followed closely with Nigel, Findus, Kisty, Sinea, and the squirrel in single file behind.   

Not having gotten ten feet into the hallway, a pair of crossbow bolts hurled down the hall, scoring glancing blows to Rurik and Zalman.  They couldn’t immediately discern where the bolts had come from as there appeared to be little more than a rough wall ahead of them.  Then they noticed the arrow slits cleverly concealed in the wall with a clear line of sight down the entire length of the hall.  Two more bolts fired out.

Rurik, feeling well protected by his magical full plate armor, charged.  He found the twenty-foot deep spiked pit first.  Zalman, who had been running close behind the dwarf and using him as cover, nearly fell in the pit as well.  Having caught himself, though, he now presented an easy and unarmored target to the kobolds.  They fired again and scored another hit.

Then Nigel’s bow answered.  Two shots, one right through each of the arrow slits, at nearly forty feet.  Two dead kobolds.

Everyone was so amazed by this display of marksmanship, they nearly forgot Rurik down in the pit.  The dwarf had extricated himself from the spikes and called upon Moradin to heal his considerable injuries.  A rope was tossed down and he was pulled back out.

A quick look through the arrow slits revealed that the kobolds were either dead or close enough to it not to be a concern any further.  Aside from the bodies and a supply of bolts, there was little else in the room.  The hallway turned left and then a quick right.  Ahead was the door leading to the concealed crossbowmen’s room and a junction that branched both left and right.  They checked the egg and it hinted more to the left.

The passage here was again mostly natural in appearance, with some parts cut wider to allow easy passage.  It switch-backed several times.  After the incident with the first trap, Kisty was invited to walk up in front with Rurik, searching for other traps.

The passage opened up to another well-cut corridor that ended in a heavy iron door with no handle or other means by which of opening it.  From the construction, it appeared likely to be a security door, one that was intended to be closed and locked only from the other side.  They listened carefully at it and heard some faint scuffling.

Deciding to try to take whatever was behind the door by surprise, Zalman readied his wand of knock and the rest prepared to burst through.  Uttering the command word, the wand caused the door to pop open just a crack and Rurik charged in.  He immediately found the next twenty-foot deep spiked pit trap just inside the next room.

To the sounds of dwarven curses, the others gave the room a cursory inspection from the doorway.  It was high-ceilinged 20’x30’ room with two exits.  The one on the left appeared to be another heavy metal door like the one they’d just opened, with a heavy bar across it.  The one in the far right corner of the room was more of a mundane wood door.  There was nothing and no one in the room.

Rurik began to extricate himself from the spikes when something shattered right beside him and sticky burning liquid splashed over his legs.  Kobolds, in a room directly above this one, were dropping Molotov alchemist’s fire cocktails through murder holes in the ceiling upon the dwarf and near the doorway where the others were all clustered.  The group tried to offer Rurik some cover while he frantically tried to extinguish the flames.  Zalman cast a shield spell over his head and leaned over the pit from the doorway.  Nigel looked for a target through the murder holes above, but there was no backlighting to give the kobolds away.

After a few more of the cocktails came down, the kobolds switched to crossbow bolts.  Rurik was pulled up back into the hallway.  As they quickly considered tactics, a Melf’s acid arrow zipped out from above and tagged Zalman, pumping hot acid through his leg.  In a fit of vengeance, Zalman focused through the pain and cast a minor summoning. Targeting just the other side of one of the murder holes, he conjured three celestial dogs.  The fracas that created was satisfying and bought them some relief from the bombardment.  In those few moments of relief, Rurik cast a shape stone spell - causing the ceiling of the room to smooth over and sealing up the murder holes.

While the others broke down the far wood door, Rurik paused long enough to offer a bit of healing to Zalman now that the acid arrow was wearing off.  Beyond the door was a short length of hallway and another wooden door.  Kisty pointed out more murder holes along the length of this hallway.  Rurik took it under advisement and ran down the hall, launching himself at the far door (just in case there was another damnable pit in front of it).  

The door broke open into another hallway, this one going left and right.  To the left, it ended at a door that doubled back.  To the right, it ended in another wooden door further along.  Guessing that the door to the left was most likely to lead to the murder hole room, they made ready to head up that one.  A barrage of magic missiles coming from one of the short hallway’s murder holes spurred them on to quick action.

Kisty picked the lock and they flung the door open.  Two kobolds at the top of a flight of stairs launched crossbows to little effect.  Nigel and Findus launched a couple arrows back to great effect.  They charged up the stairs and made short work of the two remaining kobolds.  It appeared that the summoned dogs, which were now gone, had claimed two other kobolds.  

The room was about the same dimensions as the one directly below.  There were open boxes of ammunition and jars of alchemist’s fire.  There was also a door that mirrored the one into the short hallway below.  They had good reason to suspect that the spell-flinger was holed up in there.  They took up positions, most trying to get a good line of fire to the door before they flung it open…and were greeted by a lightning bolt.  Several of the party were hit hard by the blast.  Undaunted, though, Rurik and Nigel charged before he could get off another blast.  

Huddled behind a couple crates, the kobold sorcerer gave them a pitiful look and begged for mercy in a crude common.  He got none.

Wounded and depleted of much of their casting ability, the party finally decided to hole up in this room.  It seemed fairly defensible with the murder holes and a single entrance.  Rest, healing and magic was worth the risk of letting the kobolds regroup a bit.


Next session - More kobolds and the incredibly aggrivating Thrindlemond.

-Rybaer


----------



## Zalman

*Wooo Hoooo!*

I thoroughly enjoyed this evening's adventure.  Rybaer presented us with many challenges that we were not used to facing.  (Rybaer is new to this little gaming group.  The rest of us had been together for about 6 years and he provided a breath of fresh air to our stale gaming)

I was proud of my idea to cast a summoning on the other side of the ceiling.  It worked out very well to distract the sorcerer and his helpers.  We were all very beaten and bruised but felt good about what we had accomplished, even against little kobolds.

Now, back to my old question... Why am I here?


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## Amblin

*new board*

Just making sure I can, when I want to. I don't want to right now


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## sword-dancer

Good ideas.

Could you please post the fate point rules?


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## Rybaer

Sure thing.

Fate points are a concept I borrowed from the Warhammer fantasy RPG.  Basically, it's a "cheat certain death" point.  It can only be used to save your own character from death, and it's up to me, the DM, as to exactly how the character cheats death.  

The main reason I use them is to keep low level characters from dying too easily on a single bad roll.  On the very first roll of the very first combat these guys entered, one of the hobgoblins shot Rurik in the chest with a heavy crossbow and scored a critical.  Well, at double damage to the only person capable of healing in the party, it would have been game over for the first level cleric.  So, fate point intervened and the hobgoblin instead hit his hunting dog who just happened to be leaping at Rurik at the exact moment the bolt was arriving.

Also, as we were all new to the 3rd edition, I wasn't entirely comfortable balancing the PC's encounters yet.  The fate points became a bit of a safety valve in case I made something too tough.

Now, one year later, most of the players are now out of fate points.  I think one player still has one left of the original two they each began with.  The players, as a result, take combat much more seriously and even comtemplate retreating at times.

-Rybaer


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## Bommer

*Remarkable*

Interesting, I await more stories. I wonder what else has happened, before I had joined the group?


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## Rybaer

Session #7.4 - More of the kobolds, and their idol

The group holed themselves up in the room that had previously been used as a secure chamber from which to rain death through murder holes into the room below.  Those holes were sealed up through the handiwork of Rurik, but there were still murder holes in the adjacent room over the hallway below.  While the injured rested, the rest took shifts watching and listening at these holes for further signs of kobold activity.  They periodically heard calls and motion in the distance, but none of the creatures seemed willing to come very close.

Rested and refreshed, they gathered up their gear - including a few of the remaining jars of alchemist's fire.  Back down the stairs and in the hallway, they had two options as to which direction to go.  Behind them, the murder hole room had two barred metal doors - the one they'd come through and another they'd not yet explored down.  The other alternative was to try the wooden door at the end of this hall.  The egg pointed in roughly the direction that the wood door at the end of the hall led, so they chose that way.

The door was not locked, but it would not open.  It appeared to be either jammed or blocked from the other side.  Using an axe, they hacked through the door until a small hole was made in the center.  Indeed, there appeared to be assorted furnishings and other junk piled floor to ceiling on the other side of the door.  They hacked a bit more at the door, opening a foot-diameter hole in it, then paused to decide how best to proceed.  The three options seemed to be:  1) cut through the door and move the junk piece by piece, 2) burn through the pile, or 3) try going a different direction.

While debating, they noticed the tang of smoke in the stale mine air.  It seemed that the kobolds had decided to start burning the pile of blocking material from the other side to deter them from coming that way.  With the smoke quickly building, the group decided to fall back and let it burn itself out for a while.

Back in the murder hole room, closing all doors behind them, they decided to try the heavy metal door through which they had not come originally.  Kisty clearly outlined the pit trap in front of the door in chalk so the others could avoid it.  There was no sound from the other side, so they lifted the bar and opened the door.

Beyond was another length of rough hallway – part natural cave formation and part hand cut.  There was no sound or light, but they could make out the humid scent of water nearby.  With Rurik again in the lead, followed closely by Kisty, Zalman, Nigel, Findus, and Sinea and the squirrel, they pressed slowly onward.

The hallway wound around a couple bends and came to an intersection.  They chose the direction that most closely matched the bearing of the magical egg.  It wrapped around another bend and opened into a massive cavernous chamber with a small lake.  What shoreline there was here had various fishing and drying devices scattered about it.  They could not make out how far the chamber extended.  Not wanting to try their luck in the water unless absolutely necessary, they went back to the intersection.

After another couple bends, it again split left and right.  The egg only slightly favored the right passage.  Feeling that neither was really leading them toward the egg’s destination, they tried the left corridor.  Only a few dozen paces further, it turned a sharp corner and opened into a small chamber with a massive steel door set in the wall.  An equally massive steel beam was propped up between the door and the opposite wall.  Whatever it was on the other side of that door that required such heavy fortification, they had little desire to discover.  When a couple voiced their curiosity, they were quickly reminded by their comrades that the kobold had mentioned a “dragon.”

Back down the right branch, the air began to take on an acrid tang.  Rurik scouted a bit ahead and found the chamber where the kobolds did their smelting and smithing.  Several forges and furnaces were set about the large chamber.  In different corners, there were piles of raw steel rods and ingots, lumber, coal, and crushed ore.  The forges were quiet and the furnaces somewhat cooled.  It was clear that the kobolds had abandoned their work since the group’s intrusion some ten hours earlier.  He returned to fetch the others.

As the group spread out through the forge chamber, Nigel heard sounds coming from the chamber’s one other exit.  Just as he warned the others, crossbow bolts started flying into their midst.  Nigel and Findus returned fire into the dim hallway while Rurik charged.  Kisty flung a couple sling stones and Zalman summoned a couple celestial dogs.  Sinea clumsily fired a crossbow they had looted off a kobold earlier.

The small pocket of eight kobolds crumbled in no time.  One did manage to flee down the corridor in the confusion, however.  Zalman sent his dogs off in pursuit, but they dispersed before they could catch him.  The others were more cautious in their pursuit, knowing full well how many traps they’d already found in this place.

Quickly, but carefully, they pursued around several more bends in the hallway.  They came upon a small wood door set in one wall just before a spot where the hallway did a switchback into a long, straight and downward-sloping hall.  The sound of the fleeing kobold came from down the hallway.  Nigel looked down the hall, but held back when Kisty grabbed him.  She pointed toward the ceiling where a large section appeared different from the rest of it.  “It looks rigged to collapse,” she pointed out.

Thwack!

Nigel was tagged by a small crossbow bolt, coming from the wall behind him!  The few in the front of the group were then able to discern a pair of camouflaged arrow slits in the wall facing down the sloped passage.  Another shooting gallery.  Everyone dove back into the relative safety of the hallway by the door.  It was also now clear that this door led to the shooters’ room.  Of course, it was barred from the inside.

Putting an impromptu plan into motion, Nigel crawled along the floor under the arrow slits, got up into a crouching position, and readied his bow.  Zalman crawled along behind and got under the other of the pair of slits.  The wizard then tossed a jar of the alchemists’ fire through the arrow slit (just enough clearance to squeeze it in).  During the ensuing confusion within the shooters’ room, Nigel popped up and shot down one and then both of the kobolds.  Problem solved.

Kisty began a careful search of the sloped hallway and finally found the tripping mechanism for the trap ceiling.  Marking it for the others, she continued downward and declared the rest of the hall clear to the bottom.  The hallway rounded a bend and rose back upward for a bit.  Another intersection split left and right.  To the left, they found a heavy steel door.  A rough sketched map of the areas they’d just been through suggested that this was almost certainly just the other side of the barred door they’d been afraid of earlier.  The right hallway led back to the large chamber through which they’d first entered the kobolds’ lair.

They contemplated the steel door’s purpose a bit, then concluded that it was simply the shortest route through the lair from the mine to the smelters.  When the party invaded, the kobolds likely blocked the door to force the group to take one of two longer and trap laden routes.  Now, it appeared that they had cleared out this entire section of the lair.

They returned to the burning pile of debris and found that it was still burning, albeit slowly.  They retreated to grab some more rest before continuing on.  Several hours later, the fire had mostly smothered itself.  Using hand and axe, they dug their way through the remains and used magically created water to extinguish what little was still burning.

Beyond was a length of hallway that ended in a door.  Through that door, another series of halls and doors.  They explored room by room finding only abandoned living quarters.  Nothing was worth keeping and the stench urged them to hurry on.

One door in the area led out of the living quarters and into a fully natural section of the caverns.  A narrow, long chamber with a sandy floor opened up before them.  The tracks in the sand were clearly leading down its length.  In the center of the room was a small stone dais, upon which were faint stains and a fishy odor.  Most of the tracks continued on to the back of the chamber, but another set could be seen branching off from the dais to a narrow side chamber.  These prints were larger – more like those a human would make.  

Thoughts of the “dragon” still lingered in their imaginations.  The dais, they surmised, might have been a place the kobolds left offerings of fish.  The magical egg was clearly pointing in the direction of this side chamber.  Feeling they had little choice, they continued on down that route.

The side passage wound around for a good length before dead-ending at a heavy steel door.  Various crude dragon images were worked into its frame.

“This must be the place,” they commented.

“Do we go in quiet-like, or blasting?”

They settled on something in between.  Not very quiet, but quickly and ready for a fight.  Kisty checked the door and concluded it untrapped and, in fact, unlocked.  Rurik flung the door open and he, Nigel, and Findus slipped in and to either side of the door.

The chamber beyond was roughly circular, over a hundred feet in diameter, and domed high above them.  A single shaft of daylight came through a small orifice in the center of the ceiling, lighting up the tens of thousands of multi-colored gems stones embedded in the stone walls.  A stone ramp wound up the right side of the chamber to a platform on the far side that went back into a shadowy recess.  It was stunningly gorgeous, yet eerie.

As the group slowly entered, taking in the sparkling spectacle, a humanoid figure approached the edge of the platform above them.  With a dull thud, the steel door behind them shut seemingly of its own accord.  When the figure stepped into the light, they could tell he was dressed in impeccably tailored yet conservative clothing.  He pulled the hood of his cloak back and revealed himself to be a pinkish-violet hued lizardman of some nature.  Zalman, studied as he was in the creature lore of the land, surmised correctly that this was a half-dragon – most likely of a gem-stone variety.  He knew little specifics of that type of dragon, however, given how rare and secretive they tended to be.

“Welcome to my home, travelers,” he greeted them in a smooth and pleasant voice that belied his toothy maw.  “Although, I must admit that I had expected you sooner.  And I had hoped with less conflict with my neighbors.”

“Who are you, and how is it you were expecting us?” they asked. 

“Pardon me,” he replied.  “My name is Thrindlemond.  The answers to your other questions can wait, for now I feel I must find if you are what some may believe and others may fear.”

With that, he took a step back toward the shadows.  In the center of the room before them, a mist quickly coalesced into what resembled a tiger – if tigers were fifteen feet long and made of an iridescent, shiny white material.  The horrific beast turned and snarled, revealing fangs the size of cooking knives.


Next session - The party doesn't much care for Thrindlemond and they learn a couple things that they'd rather not know.  Oh, and they pay a visit to Brother Sal's Traveling Salvation Show!

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

I almost forgot to mention the other preview bit for the next session...Amblin's glorious return to the party after a two-session hiatus.  He gets to meet a dragon.  A _real_ dragon.  Not one of those candy-assed half-breeds like Thrindlemond.

I think he wet himself.

Oh well.  Tune in next time for all the glorious details, pertinent campaign information, and loss of bodily function.

-Rybaer


----------



## Zalman

*Thrindlemond*

Thrindlemond is a busy-body, and annoyance, and a pain in the ass.... and we have only met him once.  Rybaer threw these little Kobolds against us, taking us down 5hp at a time, and almost killed us.  That's why we had to rest twice on the way down.  Personally, I loved Thrindlemond's comment about getting down here sooner with less conflict with his friends.  Well, yeah, we started it by attacking one of them and leaving him tied in a side passage - but he was alive.  How were we supposed to get through all this and not bother Thrindlemond's little buddies.  (the sorcerer was a major pain)

Thrindlemond is getting ready to "test" us, which I take great exception to.  He also wants his little egg back before the conflict.  He starts to pull it out of our hands so I slam my staff down on top of it and use it's magical ability to be immoble.  It, of course, wasn't quite good enough.  The box with the egg in it just slid out from under it.

Oh well, at least I didn't almost die in THIS encounter.  Several others, but not this one...


----------



## Rybaer

Like I said, the group didn't much care for Thrindlemond.  I think they should cut him a little slack, however.  After all, he's a 2000 year old half amethyst dragon/half elf.  He lives pretty much in isolation, is uber-powerful, and has a massive superiority complex.  He's also got some strange hobbies.

What he considers a refined sense of humor generally comes across to others as either awkward sarcasm or condescension.

Zalman has been having great difficulty in getting past Thrindlemond's little "test," however, to appreciate the finer points of Thrindlemond's hospitality such as the massages, the hot baths, and the fine dinner.

I get ahead of myself, though.

-Rybaer


----------



## Dyme

Hi gang.... Nigel in the house.

Guess I’ll try to catch up from chapter 7…

Session #7.1 – The Life and Times of Robyn Steele

Nigel had never really thought of “leader” as “boss” but more like “first among equals”. After all, these are his friends, most of who he’d known since their birth. Because of that, he pretty much tried to put decisions up to a group vote, majority rule. So when Amblin went off on his own way at the red dragon incident he thought Amblin wasn’t being part of the “group” and naturally got pissed off. He wasn’t originally mad at Zalman—until he got spoken to. Nigel was kind of bewildered as to why Zalman was blaming him for Amblin’s running away, then got the standard elven attitude when he tired of Zalman’s whining. So, after that, he tried to take a more “boss” attitude, but wondered just how effective it would be. It was kind of fun having everyone ticked off at each other, making snide remarks, being jerks to each other. Sometimes you just gotta blow off steam.

 As we frequently use the Split The Group Up tactic, it wasn’t long till the splitting up happened again—the next day, as we all saw.

The incident in the cave with Amblin and Robyn are the basis for a rule Nigel follows fanatically.  Said rule can be seen as my sig.

And then he’s getting ready to make out with a cute elf girl, and she goes into convulsions and turns into Zalman. Talk about a turn off.

I’m not totally positive, but I think Nigel used a Speak With Animal spell to help figure out what happened with the egg and all, lest anyone get an image of Nigel playing charades with a couple squirrels.

And then the group comes back from the mine minus one person but with a very interesting tale of what happened to the missing member.

It was a pretty wacky couple days.


----------



## Dyme

Nigel Notes, Chaps 7.2 & 7.3:

As usual, Amblin had to go off on his own. Never mind the fact that we sent him back to Shadykin’s, he just had to go off and do his own thing.  

Not really much to say about the initial descent into the mines. We thought it was a little weird that we never found Robyn’s body. The discussion on what to do with our pet kobold was pretty interesting, though. Nigel was against killing it just because it was “evil”; during the interrogation, the kobold told the group that all they did was mine and make things for the “dragon” and had no interest at all in messing with the nearby elf village. Sinea and Findus confirmed that they had not ever been bothered by the kobolds, and I believe that is what finally swayed the “Let’s kill it!” group over to the “Let’s just knock it out, tie it up, and leave it somewhere where it won’t be discovered until after it starves to death” group.  

The ambush coming up the ramp wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t for those stupid tanglefoot bags. I sort of had a feeling that once we had gotten most of the way up, something large and heavy was going to come rolling down the ramp. It didn’t occur to me that they’d try to immobilize us first.

Nobody was more surprised that Nigel scored hits through the two arrow slits than I (player) was. I figured: we were standing at the end of the hallway getting peppered. Nigel thought enough of his bow skills that he’d probably get 1 arrow through a slit and maybe, just maybe, the other one would think twice about shooting at us once he saw his buddy laying next to him with an arrow in his head. Two very good attack rolls later, there were 2 kobolds with arrows in their faces and we could get Rurik out of the pit in peace.  It was pretty damn kool.

I thought the sequence of events in the murder hole room was inspired thinking on Rurik and Zalman’s part. Closing the holes then distracting our tormentors with the dogs… just brilliant. Nigel was slightly disappointed he didn’t get to shoot arrows through any holes this time. 

I had made a post on the last boards that didn’t make the switch over saying that Nigel takes attacks on himself and his friends very seriously. That’s why he had no problem dispatching the hiding spell-flinger as opposed to sparing the miner they had met earlier.

Ugh. Thridlemond. What a pain. That’s for another post, though.



> Now, one year later, most of the players are now out of fate points. I think one player still has one left of the original two they each began with.



For the record, Nigel still has a fate point and I’m almost positive Amblin has one left too.


----------



## Zalman

*Kudos?*

Dyme said:
"I thought the sequence of events in the murder hole room was inspired thinking on Rurik and Zalman’s part. Closing the holes then distracting our tormentors with the dogs… just brilliant."

We suprised ourselves, too.

Zalman has always thought "leader" was kind of the Webster's dictionary verson.  In fact....

lead·er (ldr)
n. 
One that leads or guides. 
One who is in charge or in command of others. 

One who heads a political party or organization. 
One who has influence or power, especially of a political nature.

"First among equals", well that implies superiority.  The definition of a leader says nothing about being better, but about being a "guide" or "one who is ... in command..."  That's all Zalman was looking for.  Remember, Zalman is a mage; everything he knows up to this point he garnered from books.  He also had a 19 intelligence and a bit of a smarter-than-he-needs-to-be-20-year-old attitude.  Losing his cool with Amblin, Kisty and Nigel started him rethinking things... and it hasn't gotten any clearer.  Even more murky.

Why am I here?


----------



## clockworkjoe

Great story! There's a lot that I might be tempted to use in my campaign, especially that golden dome 

What happened to Boaz's player when boaz died? Did he switch to robyn or what?


----------



## Maldur

Seems like a very enjoyable game, keep it up  

How long does this campaign run? 

Damn I want to play again (gming has its charms but playing....)

Cheers, Maldur


----------



## Bommer

*Boaz’s Demise*

OOC: I’m still here…


----------



## Rybaer

Hey guys, thanks for the vote of appreciation.

After Boaz died, his player brought in the ill-fated Robyn (who died in his second session, I believe).  His next character was the hastily created Findus.  Right about where I am in the postings, his player took a leave of absence from player for several months (Findus stayed back with the local elves).  We're all glad to have him back in action now, playing a halfling rogue who has stepped in for the now absent Kisty.

That's all down the road, though.

This game has been running about 13 months now.  My postings, however, are running about Aug/Sept timeframe.  I'm slowly catching up to where the party is at now.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Next session is almost complete.  Might yet get it up tonight.  It's got lots of cruchy campaign background info in it...making it something of a refocusing on the overarching issues at hand.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Session #7.5 – Thrindlemond, Brother Sal, and the Prophecy of the Half Moon


The astral construct, in the form of a monstrously large tiger, ripped into the group’s midst, biting and clawing anything in reach.  Rurik, the only one with respectable armor, charged up front and paid the price by suffering several hard hits.  Nigel and Findus launched away with arrows and Kisty peppered it with sling stones while slowly moving around to the backside of it.  Zalman tossed his wand of magic missiles to Sinea and ordered her to start launching away.  He, meanwhile, launched a lighting bolt back at the creature.

The fight was quick and frantic, but the creature wasn’t quite as durable as its size and demeanor suggested and it was soon dispatched.  Rurik managed to get a quick bit of healing off on himself before yet another construct was manifested.  This time, it was ten foot tall, bipedal demonic-looking creature with claws and horns.

Again, Rurik took a beating as the only one willing to stand up to it directly.  Zalman, summoned a celestial bison to help distract it from the wounded cleric.  Sinea kept up a steady stream of magic missiles.  Kisty, finally close enough to the backside of the creature, tumbled in to melee and worked away at its backside with her daggers.

This construct lasted slightly longer, and knocked Rurik unconscious, before finally falling to the group’s attacks.  By this time, everyone was concerned for their fallen friend and irate at the gall of Thrindlemond to throw these things at them while sitting back and observing the results.

They were expecting another manifestation, but Thrindlemond stepped forward and called:  “I’ve seen enough.”  He gestured briefly at Rurik’s limp form, which began to float upward and toward the half-dragon.  The group reacted badly to that and aimed everything they had toward the seemingly unconcerned Thrindlemond.

“I will do nothing to harm your friend,” Thrindlemond said as Rurik settled at his feet.  “Quite the contrary, in fact.  Please, try not to do anything rash.”

The group was very displeased by this turn of events and the arrogant attitude of the purple-scaled one.  Nigel started moving toward the ramp while the others continued to watch closely.  Thrindlemond, pulling back the sleeve of his robes, knelt beside the dwarf and did something the others couldn’t quite make out.  A few moments later, however, Rurik was stirring, looking around in a bit of confusion.

Thrindlemond again stood on the ledge and looked over toward the wood box containing the magic egg that Zalman had hastily set down on the ground when the fighting broke out.  Zalman, extremely put off by the whole situation, decided to be a bit defiant and planted his magical staff on top of the box and commanded it immobile.  Thrindlemond just looked blankly at the box and started pulling it telekinetically out from under the immobile staff – dragging, screeching, and grinding against the stone floor until it finally popped loose and floated up to his outstretched hands.

“I apologize for the inconvenience I may have caused you,” Thrindlemond said.  “However, I feel that what I have to say may make it worth your time to stay and listen.  Please, join me for dinner and whatever hospitality I can offer you.”

He turned and started walking toward a small door set in the dark recesses of the upper level, then paused and turned back to the group (none of whom had started moving to take him up on the offer).  “Oh, and I’ll get all of you sorted back out into your proper bodies.  Right this way, please.”

Zalman was pissed enough that he’d have happily kept Sinea’s body just to avoid following the annoying half-dragon.  However, he felt he needed to see Tehloan and Sinea get their bodies back.  He might as well get his own while he was at it.  Besides, this Thrindlemond had promised to answer their questions…for whatever his promises were worth.

The group quickly discussed things and agreed to go with him, but only for as long as it took to get the bodies back where they belonged and a few answers on the side.

Thrindlemond led them down a short hallway and into a large, two-level underground foyer.  The construction was all in various shades of polished marble with gemstones and decorative touches added here and there.  Magical lights made it comfortably bright.  Several doors and halls led off of both levels.  They were led up a flight of stairs to the balcony and to a couple of doors.  “This for the gentlemen, this for the ladies.”

“Our bodies,” Zalman pointedly reminded him.

“Ah yes,” Thrindlemond said.  “I’ll fetch the necessary object shortly.  In the meantime, please feel free to freshen up for dinner.  There is food and hot baths in each room.  There are a number of magical servants in each room that will tend to your needs.  You need only speak what you desire.”  With that, he turned and left.

As promised, the rooms had hot baths, a table laden with fresh fruits, bread, cheese, and wine, and a number of hazy humanoid forms waiting along the walls.  Zalman suspected they were something akin to an Unseen Servant.  Thrindlemond returned promptly with a nearly identical wooden box in which was a similar but differently colored polished stone egg.  

“All you need do,” Thrindlemond explained, “is touch this egg.  You will shortly thereafter return to your normal form.  The transition back is quicker and painless, as your body is happy to return to its natural state.”  Zalman was still displeased, but touched the second egg.  Tehloan, the squirrel, likewise touched it.  Thrindlemond then took it next door for Sinea to touch it.

By this time, most everyone was willing to try to indulge in what simple pleasures they could.  If Thrindlemond had any further hostile intentions, they figured it didn’t matter how prepared they were.  Nigel convinced the magic servants to give him a massage while he soaked in a hot bath.  Rurik also settled upon a bath, but with a constant supply of wine coming his way.

* * *

Meanwhile, shortly before midnight some forty or fifty miles away in the grassy hills to the West, Amblin and his dog were jogging along briskly.  They were en route to Shadykin’s to see if he could shed any light on the transformation problem that Zalman, Sinea, and Tehloan had undergone.  While he had traveled some during the daytime, he preferred running at night, under the cover of darkness due to the minimal amount of cover afforded him in the grasslands.  Over the last week, the first time they’d traveled this way, they had run across an owlbear, a pair of trolls, a dire wolverine, and a full-blown red dragon.  He had no desire to run into anything else, particularly alone.

Using only what light the quarter moon provided, he ran on.  He was enjoying the cool night air of the early summertime, reveling in his runner’s high and the pleasure at spending time with his dog.  His wandering mind was snapped abruptly back to the present when a shadow swooped overhead.  A very big shadow.

He was at least a quarter mile from the nearest cover, a small copse of trees.  As he surveyed the star lit sky, the shadow swooped back toward him and promptly dropped onto the ground immediately in front of him.  It was a dragon.  A full blown, alarmingly real dragon.  Fleeing was a futile option.  Attacking was right out.  So, he just stood there with his dog in stunned silence.

It dipped it’s head down to Amblin’s level, about ten feet away, and in a rather pleasant and articulate voice asked:  “You aren’t Amblin, by any chance, are you?”

“Why yes,” he stammered.  “Uh, yeah.  That’s me.”

“Good,” it replied.  “I wasn’t sure how hard it’d be to find you, but you weren’t too hard to pick out against the grass.  Pretty much where I expected you to be.”

“Uh,” Amblin said.  “Uh, you were looking for me?  Why?”

“Oh, an acquaintance of mine asked if I wouldn’t come fetch you,” he replied.  “I don’t really know what he wanted you for, but he said to tell you that your friends no longer needed you to make the trip and to come back and join them for a late dinner.”

Amblin’s mind reeled a bit as he tried to sort out his friends and their issues while looking in the face of a creature whose mouth he would very easily fit within.  Well, they must have sorted out this business with body swapping, he figured, and the story as to how they did it must really be interesting if a dragon was sent to fetch him back.

“Okay,” Amblin said.  It was the best he could manage.

“If you’d like to settle yourself on my back,” the dragon said, “we can be off promptly.  Right there at the base of my neck, in front of my wings, is the most comfortable spot for the both of us.”

“What about my dog?”

“Hmmm,” the dragon said as it gave the cowering animal an appraising look.  “I suppose it’d be easiest if I just carried it.  No harm will come to it.”

Amblin tried to reassure his companion, but the dog wasn’t buying it.  Finally, the dragon just grabbed the dog and then lowered his neck for Amblin to mount.  Once settled, they launched with a powerful leap.  The dragon flew rose quickly on powerful beats of its wings.

After they had reached a cruising altitude, the dragon turned its head back to face Amblin.  “I must apologize,” it said.  “I don’t believe I introduced myself.  My name is Glitterstone.”

“Nice to meet you,” Amblin replied.

“Just sit back and enjoy the ride,” Glitterstone said.  “It shouldn’t take too long to get you back.”

Amblin watched as the moon lit landscape sped past below them.  Only one thought kept going through his head:  “This is so cool!”


* * *


Amblin wandered in on his companions as they finished dressing in their freshly laundered garments.  “Hey guys!  You’re not going to believe what I just did.  Oh, hey, Zalman!  That is you, now, isn’t it?”

Everyone quickly got caught back up with the activities of the others and then dinner was on.  Thrindlemond sat at the end of a long, polished hardwood table.  The group was seated on either side of him, using only about half the length of the table among the nine of them – Thrindlemond, Nigel, Amblin, Zalman, Rurik, Findus, Sinea, Tehloan, and Kisty.  The elves had remained fairly quiet since getting their bodies back.  They sensed that there was something afoot concerning the other companions, but they were willing to wait it out and see what could be learned.

The food was served by more of the ghostly servants, all of it exceptional in taste and presentation.  None of them had ever had such a fine meal.  For most, though, they were still too apprehensive about the mysterious Thrindlemond to be able to fully enjoy it.  Rurik was sufficiently drunk by now, though, that at least he was able to relax.

After the food was finished, Thrindlemond pushed his chair back and bit and opened the floor up to any question they cared to ask him.  

Among other things, this is a quick summary of some of the things they learned:

(Thrindlemond was a bit evasive or cryptic when answering certain questions, by the way.)

	Thrindlemond is indeed half amethyst dragon, half elf, and somewhere in the neighborhood of 2,000 years old.  He’s been living in these parts, mostly alone, for quite some time.  He has no contact with the nearby elvish community, nor does he really care to.

	In conjunction with some divination abilities, he was able to observe and eventually lure the group into his lair via the magical egg.  It was all quite intentional because he wanted to meet and observe them in action.

	Why?  Well, he explained that one of his “hobbies” was the study of prophecies:  The prophets themselves, the events, the context, and so on.  Some forty years ago or so, a diviner at a prestigious mage school had a powerful vision and wrote of what he saw.  Now, the five powerful mages who comprised the Black Hand, the group that led the armies of evil in a massive campaign of destruction over twenty years ago, were believed to be one component of this prophecy.  The second component of this prophecy, another group of five, has yet to be found.  Thrindlemond then explained that there were groups of people out in the world seeking the second five mentioned in this prophecy – toward their own goals, good or bad – and had been searching since the time of the Black War.  Supposedly, one of these organizations had pegged our heroes (Nigel, Rurik, Amblin, Zalman, and the deceased Boaz), as potentially being this group and had already made efforts to observe and nurture them.  Thrindlemond was curious as to what about them had attracted the attention of this mysterious group, and hence the staged side-trek to visit him where he could more rigorously “test” them.

	This came as a bit of a surprise to the group.  They probed further, but Thrindlemond was unwilling to tell them specifically more about the prophecy or the group that had been watching them.  He did, however, offer to introduce them to a man who could answer their questions.  Thrindlemond, when asked why he was evasive on this matter, said something non-committal about pushing the limits of how involved he was personally willing to immerse himself in a potential prophecy.

	They asked if he thought they were the ones mentioned in the prophecy.  He replied that he had no idea, and doubted very much if the “group” in question really did either.

	They then probed a bit more into the Black Hand.  He told them only a cursory bit of their history.  The Hand were all fellow students in a mage academy – the very same one, in fact, where the diviner had the prophecy in question.  They were renowned for their talent and power, but also for their ambition and disregard for ethics.  At some point, they had a falling out with the faculty and were banished from the school.  For some years, nothing was heard from them.  Given where they were banished to, and under what conditions, most assumed they had perished.  They were wrong.  The Black Hand had united countless tribes of goblins, orcs, ogres, trolls, giants, and other undesirables into a number of massive armies that swept down from the North in waves of destruction.  Countless cities fell before them.  Over several years, the armies pushed further south until they finally met the combined might of the armies of the southern city-states.  At long last, the armies of evil were defeated and sent into retreat back northward.  The evil races reclaimed cities and towns they had taken during the early part of the war, enslaving what few survivors there were.  The southern city-states lacked the finances and motivation to pursue the invaders all the way back to the far North.  Now, slowly, humanity is reclaiming its old lands.  As for the Black Hand themselves, no one seems to know what happened to them.  Rumors exist that one or more of them may have been killed.  The others seem to have mysteriously disappeared sometime near the end of the war.  What they had intended to accomplish with the war remains a mystery.  What the Hand might do next, should they resurface, is also a mystery.


As the discussion began to wind down, Thrindlemond again asked them if they would like to visit this man who could tell them more about the prophecy.  The group was hesitant, however, not really wanting any further involvement with the half dragon or anyone else who might be associated with him.  When Thrindlemond explained that the individual whom he referred to was currently within a couple days of Water Break and that he could provide rapid transportation there, the group’s opinion shifted.  They decided to discuss the matter amongst themselves in private, and give Thrindlemond an answer in the morning.  With that, they retired to the rooms provided where beds were now prepared.

The group discussed the pros and cons of taking up Thrindlemond’s offer and finally decided they would accept it.  He hadn’t done anything threatening since his “testing,” and Water Break was where they had been destined since learning of it from Kisty several weeks earlier.  On foot, the journey would be at least another five or six weeks through dangerous and unfamiliar terrain.  Amblin could already attest to Thrindlemond’s ability to arrange for rapid transportation.

In the morning, they told Thrindlemond that they’d accept his offer, but that they had to return to the elf village to collect the remainder of their gear and give their farewells.  He bade them to return quickly and without horses as these he could not accommodate.  The group used an alternate, concealed exit and quickly found their horses – still tied up and desperate for fresh grass and water.  They returned to the village, dropped off a grateful Sinea and Tehloan, and collected up their gear.  A couple elves rode back to Thrindlemond’s with them later that afternoon to collect their horses.

Just before sunset, they met back up with Thrindlemond.  He led them into his foyer and asked them to gather tightly in a circle.  He closed his eyes in concentration and then everything around them shifted.  The next moment, they were standing on a grassy hill, under a completely dark summer sky.  The breeze here was a bit warmer and more humid than it had been near the elf village.

Thrindlemond again opened his eyes.  As their eyes adjusted to the poor lighting, he led them up to the top of the low hill.  From here they could see the lights of a small village less than half a mile away.  “Down there,” Thrindlemond said, “is the village of High Hill.  The man you might want to speak with is Brother Sal.  He shouldn’t be difficult to find.  From here, you are a few days walk from Water Break.”

“I’m pretty sure I know where we are,” Kisty said.  “Or at least how to get back to Water Break from here.”

“Farewell to all of you,” Thrindlemond said and promptly disappeared.

“Well, I think we can all agree that he was something of an ass.”  Nods all around.  “But he sure knows how to travel in style and comfort.”

They descended the hill and approached the village center.  As they approached, it became clear that there was some sort of show going on in the town commons.  A crowd of nearly a hundred people was gathered in front of a garishly painted wagon.  One side of the wagon was flipped up to expose a stage upon which a puppet show was underway.  The audience laughed at some of the antics on the stage and applauded enthusiastically.  The show seemed to be wrapping up as they arrived.

Looking around at the couple dozen buildings that made up the village proper, they wondered where best to start looking for Brother Sal.  There were several shops, a smithy, a small church to Pelor, an inn, and so on.  Then one of the group pointed to the garishly painted wagon.  The side panel had been flipped back down over the stage and painted in bold letters was “Brother Sal’s Travelling Salvation Show.”  Odd, to say the least.  

A late-middle aged woman was walking about the dispersing crowd with a small bowl, soliciting change from the audience.  Once no more money was forthcoming, she headed for the back door of the wagon.  The group intercepted her.

“Pardon us, ma’am, but we’re looking for Brother Sal.”

She gave them a curious look – they were, after all, garbed in assorted armor and toting an unusually large amount of hardware.  “Wait here a moment,” she replied, and went inside.

The door opened again and from it emerged a very plain looking human, middle aged and slightly overweight.  His attire was a mix of colorful, casual, and well tailored, if a bit worn.  He greeted them with a warm smile and a few handshakes with everyone in reach.

“Hello there,” he said.  “Hope you all enjoyed the show.  I was planning on selling my wares and offering spiritual guidance tomorrow morning, if that’s what you were looking for.  I suppose I could make an exception, though, if you’re bein’ in a hurry.”

Nigel stepped up close and spoke in a low voice.  “Actually, we’re interested in speaking with you.”

“Oh,” he replied.  “About what?”

“Thrindlemond told us you might have some interesting things to tell us.”

Sal’s face paled slightly, but he quickly recovered.  “Did he now?  Are you friends of his?”

“Friends would be a bit too strong a term.  More like unwilling acquaintances.”

“Mmm…I see,” Sal said, stroking his chin.  “Why don’t we go find somewhere to speak in private.  The innkeep has a good room for the purpose.”  

Sal popped into the wagon for a moment and returned carrying a large book.  He then led them off to the inn, a small affair but with a crowded tavern comprising much of the first level.  He spoke briefly with the man behind the bar and then led them through a small door in the back of the room.  It led into a small room with a table, half a dozen chairs, and two small windows.  He shut the door behind them and gestured toward the chairs.

As they sat, a knock came at the door and a young girl brought in a pitcher of ale and mugs to go around.  Once she was gone and the door closed again, Sal began.  “First of all, I’m Brother Sal, as you might have surmised from the wagon.  I have yet to learn your names.”

They told him, and as they did he again showed a hint of recognition in his reaction.  He asked them how they had come to meet Thrindlemond and what the half dragon had told them.  The group gave an abbreviated version of their encounter with him and what he had told them of this prophecy and their potential role in it.  They made it clear that they did not care at all for Thrindlemond or his methods.

“I’ve heard of this Thrindlemond,” Brother Sal said once they had finished.  “Never met him, though.  He has been known to take an active interest in prophecy, among other things, but is generally considered to be a non-participant in the events of the land.  Much of what he told you is true, or at least has some truth to it.

“He told you of a prophecy, and I know the one of which he speaks.  He also told you of organizations looking for those mentioned in the prophecy, the ones other than the Black Hand.  I am, indeed, a member of one of these groups.  And I will also admit that I have heard of you, through another of our agents who has actually met you face to face.  Let me explain by first showing you the prophecy of which I speak.”

He opened the large book that he had brought with him and flipped through several pages before he found the one he wanted.  He read aloud:



The Prophecy of the Half Moon

Upon a night, at midnight’s peak,
Summer’s storm will swell and break.
Through the clouds, roiling split, 
The Half Moon wanes.

Five ravens take to wing
And peck away,
The sliver shatters in inky pits.

A raven of shadow, a raven of pain,
A raven of fire, entropy and death.

From out below, the new moon breaks,
Bathed in the blood of night.
For ten and twelve, the ravens cry.

A breaking of the Bridge of Tomorrow,
Shattering of the Chain of Souls.
A new half moon rises, waxing, 
Ushering in the hand of doves.

A dove of might, a dove of resilience,
A dove of mind, spirit and flight.

Across the land the full moon bathed
In the blood of hope.
For ten and twelve, the doves sing.

Light and dark, the two halves meet,
At the height of the night sky.
Born of hope or torn by pain, 
Doth this Half Moon wax or wane?



“You see,” Sal said as he closed the book, “the Prophecy of the Half Moon is not unlike most others – it is very vague.  That the ravens represent the Black Hand has been accepted as almost a certainty.  The identity of those who would be the doves, however, is a great mystery.  The prophecy seems to indicate some great struggle between good and evil, and the outcome of this struggle could shift the balance on a wide scale.  Hence, the great interest in learning more about the aspects of the prophecy.

“The organization I am a part of was originally formed during the height of the war.  When it became more and more clear that the members of the Black Hand fit the ravens in the prophecy, a widespread effort was launched to find and nurture the doves.  We surmised that the doves would mirror the ravens in that they would be a group of five individuals who had grown up together, trained together, and shared a similar philosophy.  That, however, was all we had to go on.  For twenty-two years we’ve been looking and still have not found the doves.  There have been countless groups who fit the profile, but ultimately nothing conclusive.  One of these groups may yet be the doves we’ve sought.  You five were identified by one of our agents as yet another potential group of candidates.

“My organization, unlike some others that are also looking for clues to the prophecy, has little interest in controlling the actions and fate of these ‘doves.’  Ultimately, we seek to keep others from interfering with their development so that they may come to whatever end fate and prophecy has in store.  We may observe, but will rarely interfere.”

“Who was this agent that identified us?” Zalman asked.

“The Lady Shele,” he replied, referring to the mysterious half-elf visitor to New Selmar that they had met in private audience with their Lord.  It seemed to explain a few things, such as the blessing she offered them and the time she came looking for them in Shadykin’s.  At the time, she told them that she had been occasionally using divination magic to keep tabs on them and their safety.  Through she had been elusive at the time as to exactly why she was doing this, it now made more sense.

“Look,” Sal said, “there is a very good chance that you have no role in this prophecy whatsoever.  Shele saw something in you that fit a vague profile we look for, but it still is nothing but a long shot.  Don’t worry yourselves over it, but don’t put it out of mind entirely, either.  Other groups are out there looking for folks that fit the profile, and judging by your group’s appearance, you’re bound to stick out in a crowd.  It might not be a bad idea to invest in magical means by which to protect yourselves from scrying as well.  Just something to think about.”

He let them create a copy of the prophecy and then they went their separate ways.  Sal wished them well and left the inn.  While they still had the private room, they discussed all that they had learned over the last couple days.  They agreed that the prophecy business was disturbing, but they took a healthy attitude toward the whole affair.  In the first, they assumed it unlikely that they were involved in the prophecy – especially given that Boaz, one of the original five, had already passed away.  Secondly, even if they were the ones in the prophecy, no matter what they did or where they went, it was bound to catch up to them on its own.

They agreed to try to get rooms in the inn for the night.  In the morning, they’d see if any horses were available and then they’d hit the road for Water Break.  Kisty, who had joined the group to guide them to the seaport in repayment for their rescuing her, spoke up before they left the room.

“This is as far as I’m willing to go,” she said suddenly.  She had been so quiet the last couple days that they were hardly aware she was still along.

“What are you talking about?  You were going to take us all the way to Water Break.”

“The rest of the trip is simple from here,” she explained.  “There is a road that leads east and goes straight to Water Break.  It’s only a couple days on horse.  You won’t need me any longer.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come along?  You’re not bad in a fight, and you know your way around the city.”

“No,” she said, looking at the table.  “I’ve got, uh, family issues there that I don’t want to risk facing.  There’s a reason you found me several hundred miles away from here, alone, in the wilderness.  I’ll stay here in High Hill for a week or so, probably keeping a low profile.  If you find you need me, you’ll have time to get back here.”

With that, they parted ways.  Or so they thought…



Next session:  The party meets Shadow and his gang.

-Rybaer


----------



## Bommer

I've only heard rumors and murmurs of murder about this shadow fellow. Should be an interesting read.


----------



## Dyme

For some bizarre reason or another, Nigel was less pissed off about Thrindlemond’s “test” than anyone else was. I think he had pretty much decided that he was going to get killed in that glittery chamber and was pleasantly surprised when he wasn’t. This is not to say that he liked the test (or Thrindlemond, for that matter), but he was more willing to accept the baths and the dinner than Zalman and Rurik were. And, he was kind of intrigued with the whole half-dragon aspect of Thrindlemond’s being.  

Damn those mediocre reaction rolls.

Like Rybaer said, after talking to Thrindlemond and Sal about the whole prophecy thing, we all pretty much decided, Eh, screw it. We are probably not the 5 Doves to begin with, and if we are, we’ll find out about it soon enough. In the meantime, we’ll just go about our lives, establishing contacts with other cities and open lines of communication and trade back to New Selmar… which is what we’re supposed to be doing. We even had a few giggles thinking about what the legends would say about us if it really was our destiny to defeat the Black Hand and release the world from their evil grasp (continue flowing epic prose bragging about our victory).  There was also some discussion about going back and _showing_ Thrindlemond what we thought of his test as opposed to just _telling_ him. This, of course, would happen after we had achieved Mighty Hero status and freed the good races from the threat of the evil wizards forever.

And Thrindlemond is way down on the list of people to kill slowly and painfully compared to the Shadow.


----------



## Zalman

*Thrindle-schmuck*

I won't mince words.  I don't like Thrindlemond.  He is a Half-Dragon, Psion meddling piece of crap.

Yes, he was nice to us after he "tested" us.  Who does he think he is!?!?  Yes, you have powerful abilities.  Yes, you are much older, wiser and more mature.  BUT what gives you the right to do this.  He admitted to planting the Chaos Egg so that it would be found.  He knew we would investigate what it does and be sucked in by its mischief.  He knew we would come down and find him.  He didn't know that I wouldn't like that sorry sack of...  

After I had my "temper tantrum" with Amblin, Nigel and Kisty (Remember, we went one way, Amblin went the other, Nigel wasn't leading and Kisty was poking fun at him so he scorched dinner with a burning hands) well, since then Zalman decided that abuse of power (Arcane, Divine, Psionic) to your own ends at the cost/sacrifice/misfortune/manipulation of others was wrong.  Thrindle-schmuck abused his power.  Some day someone with the ability to do something about this guy will clean his clock.  Until then, just call me Zalman the puppet.  Turn into a female elf, follow my egg, fight my astral creature, come have dinner, take a bath, blah, blah, blah.

It makes me sick.

Now, The Shadow.  Here is a real slime-ball.  Drow thief who likes to steal and rape.  The first time we encountered him he almost got us.  We didn't expect the challenge.  The second time we were ready for him and blind-ass luck is all that kept him from getting splattered.

...but I get ahead of myself.


----------



## Rybaer

> Now, The Shadow. Here is a real slime-ball. Drow thief who likes to steal and rape. The first time we encountered him he almost got us. We didn't expect the challenge. The second time we were ready for him and blind-ass luck is all that kept him from getting splattered.





Aww, shucks.  It's so rewarding to a DM to see players get so passionate about a villian.  

I'm fairly certain that because of this next encounter with the Shadow, Zalman and Rurik have kept Glitterdust and Invisibility Purge (respectively) on thier spell lists for the couple months game time since.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Session #8.1 - Shadow and his gang


After a pleasant night's rest in High Hill's inn, the group left in search of supplies - food, a few sundries, and horses.  The horses were the biggest challenge, as this was a small village without much capacity for trade.  They did manage to haggle with a local, though, for a pair of scraggly horses and a pony.  Amblin, as usual, was fine with just jogging along side them with his dog.  They asked the innkeep about the route to Water Break.  He scratched out a map and pointed out a few key areas.  The most direct route went through a marshland that was inhabited by trolls.  The north route around the marshlands was mostly unoccupied except for some bands of ogres.  The southern route, following the road, would be the quickest and safest, though hill giants and bandits were occasionally known to pester travelers.  The group settled on the southern route.

The first day on the road was pleasant and uneventful.  It was one of the first hot days of summer, made more humid by the close proximity to the ocean.  They passed through farmland for a while, then reached a long stretch of grassy hills and wooded glens.  It was very similar, in fact, to the area between their home of New Selmar and the elven village they had just left.

They set up camp in a secluded clearing in some woods about half a mile off the main road.  After midnight, while Rurik was on watch, he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps crunching through the trees.  Whoever it was, Rurik noted, was making no effort to hide his approach.  He got up and surveyed the woods, nudging the others with his boots to try to rouse them.  None of his companions, no matter how hard he prodded, responded in the least.  He hefted his axe and shield and called out to the intruder.

"Who goes there!  Name yourself and your purpose!"  Rurik spoke loudly, hoping that might rouse his companions where his prodding had failed.  It didn't.

"Relax there, young one," came the gruff reply out of the darkness.  A burly old dwarf, dressed for travel, came stomping into clearing.  "I'm just looking for a bit of company this night.  Someone to share a drink and a story or three."

He walked up to the embers of the fire, dropped his backpack and worn axe on the ground and took a seat.  "Eh?  You gonna sit down and join me?" he asked the perplexed Rurik.  "I've got drink enough fer the both of us."

The old dwarf dug through his backpack and withdrew a pair of hand carved wood goblets and a heavy skin from which he poured strong dwarven spirits.  Part of Rurik knew he should be concerned or alarmed at what was transpiring - particularly the bit about his friends not waking up - but another part of his mind put him at ease and let him accept the stranger's gesture.  He sat down and took a drink.  Fine drink, he noted.  It had been a while since he’d had a respectable beverage.

"So, young one," the dwarf began again as he withdrew a long pipe and started packing it.  "What is your name?"

"Rurik."

The old one raised an eyebrow, waiting for more.  When none was forthcoming, he began to probe.  "What?  No family name, no clan?"

Rurik stared into the red embers.  "I have no clan.  I lost that privilege when I dishonored myself before my uncle."

"Really now," he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.  "And how did that happen?"

It was something Rurik generally didn't care to talk about, but he found himself recounting the story of his and his companions' adventures.  He told the old dwarf of how his head was turned into that of a lion - resulting in his uncle's outburst of displeasure for Rurik's foolish dabbling in magics he didn't understand.  Rurik had taken it hard and renounced his clan name, pending his uncle one day decreeing him worthy of it again.

"You're hard on yourself, Rurik," the old man said.  "You might find that your uncle's reaction was due to the shock and circumstances.  He might be a little more understanding, particularly after he hears how you got things set right.  You and your friends have done some remarkable things...some of which were both brave and noble."

Rurik didn't respond.  He was less optimistic about his chances of getting back in his uncle's graces and regaining his clan name.

"You're a cleric of Moradin, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Well, young Rurik, there are a number of the Allfather's faithful near where you and your companions are headed that have been praying for his help.  Seems they're in a bit of a bind and need guidance.  Someone decided that it was your turn to answer that call."

Rurik struggled through his drunken haze with the implications of what the old dwarf was telling him.  "Who decided I should help these guys?  And who am I supposed to help."

"Someone a little higher up the chain of authority made the call on using you," he replied.  "I'm just a messenger.  As for whom you're to help, I'm not entirely sure.  Somehow, I think you'll manage to figure it out."

The old dwarf looked up at the sky and the hint of predawn gray creeping over the eastern horizon.  “Well, young Rurik, it’s about time that I get moving along.  Good luck to you and bash some more baddies for an old dwarf.”  

With that, he collected his bag and axe and tromped off toward the trees.  Rurik realized he was still holding the wood goblet that the dwarf had lent him for drinking.  “Sir, your goblet!”

The old dwarf turned, grinned, and called back, “Keep it.  Something to remember me by.”  With that, he disappeared into the darkness.

Rurik sat by the ashes of their fire, contemplating life and his place in it, until his friends began to wake for the day.  There was some curious inquiry as to why Rurik hadn’t woken up the next person in the watch rotation.  He muttered something about not being very tired, but chose not to say anything about the mysterious visitor just yet.

All packed, they mounted up and continued on down the road.  The day was again hot but with a pleasant breeze.  They passed a single merchant on his way to High Hill, but otherwise the road was unoccupied.  As dusk descended, they began to consider finding a suitable campsite.  From up ahead, a high-pitched shriek cut through the ambient chirping insects.

Assuming the shriek to be cry for help, Rurik immediately charged ahead.  Amblin quickly followed with Nigel and Zalman a little more cautious in their approach.  Rurik led his mount up a small ridge just a bit off the right side of the road.  From the crest, a grassy clearing descended a couple hundred feet toward an expanse of woods.  Near the wood line, a wagon and team of horses were parked.  There were several bodies littering the ground around the wagon.  Just behind the wagon, two dwarves were standing over a human girl, likely in her early teens.  One of the two had his pants pulled down around his knees.

Infuriated beyond rational though, Rurik led out a bellow of challenge, dismounted (having no interest in fighting mounted), and charged.  Amblin quickly caught up, surveyed the scene, and joined the rush.  Nigel, upon reaching the top of the ridge, dismounted and drew out his deadly longbow.  Zalman was slower to join, and chose to move his mount a bit more off to the right side of the action.

As they charged the dwarves, a bugbear armed with flail and shield stepped out from around the wagon.  One of the dwarves grabbed a shortsword and shield from off the ground and jumped up into the back of the wagon.  The other dwarf hastily pulled up his pants and picked up a wicked spiked chain from the ground.

The bugbear moved to intercept Rurik and the two clashed in heated melee, exchanging blows and neither gaining an advantage.  Amblin bounced in and out with his spring attack, landing a quick kick.  Rurik, deciding he’d already had quite enough of the bugbear, stepped back and called upon Moradin’s favor and landed a Hold Person on the annoyance.  

Meanwhile, Nigel had plopped a couple arrows into the spiked chain wielder and Zalman had dismounted and erected a Shield spell on himself while slowly closing toward the melee.

Just as Rurik and Amblin were about to shift their focus to the chain-swinging dwarf, who was headed Zalman’s way, they caught sight of a drow elf near the front of the wagon.  The drow pointed his wand in their direction and uttered a command word.  Just like that, the Hold Person was gone and the bugbear was back in action.  Zalman yelled out the presence of the drow, just in case anyone had missed that fact.  He was about to send a spell in the dark one’s direction when the drow suddenly vanished.  Uh oh.

Amblin, still working over the bugbear, experienced a violent jolt as if all his internal organs had been pummeled with a few dozen hammers.  He toughed it out but was unable to tell what had hit him or from which direction it had come.  So, he pounded the bugbear again.  With a well-placed arrow from Nigel and another slash of Rurik’s axe, the bugbear finally fell.  Again, Amblin felt his innards get pummeled.

While the chain-wielder cautiously closed with him, Zalman continued to watch the wagon.  When the smaller dwarf popped his head out the back again, Zalman unleashed a lightning bolt.  The dwarf was blasted back in a shower of splinters as the side of the wagon exploded.  A few of the wagon’s contents began to slowly burn.

Amblin, suspecting that the person responsible for the constant attacks on his body was in or near the wagon, moved quickly to the back of it.  He spotted the cowering smaller dwarf inside the smoldering wagon and was about to hop up there when he was rudely surprised.  The drow, who had turned invisible, unleashed a vicious attack sequence with rapier and short sword.  Amblin, a quick and nimble guy in his own right, was astonished at the speed with which the dark elf moved.  The monk was also hurting now, badly.  Adding to his misery, he took another pummeling to his organs just then.  Realizing he was outmatched, he wisely backed off (as only a fast monk can) to get some breathing room.

Zalman, gauging the drow a worse threat than the fast approaching dwarf, unleashed another lightning bolt at the guy.  It fizzled on contact, but succeeded in getting the drow’s attention in a big way.  Zalman then made sure his Shield was facing the chain-wielder before they got too personally acquainted.

The spiked chain came whipping at Zalman in a wide arc.  The Shield spell literally saved the wizard’s life and frustrated the dwarf.  He swung a couple more times while Zalman backsteped and fired a couple magic missiles.  About this time, Rurik and Nigel focused their attention back on the chain-wielder to get his attention away from Zalman.

Amblin was looking all around for the drow and spotted him charging toward Zalman – too far away to intercept.  He took another pummeling and silently thanked his master for all the abuse he had been put through in his youth for how it toughened him up.  Otherwise, he’d be down or dead by now.  However, with the drow over by the others, the smaller dwarf in the back of the wagon was left alone…

Zalman, relieved of the chain-toting dwarf, turned toward the charging drow.  Something in the back of his mind told him that this might very well be the end of his short life.  To slow the dark elf down, he fired off his last lightning bolt – and this one got through the drow’s spell resistance for a solid hit.  The look on the drow’s face was both one of surprise and cold fury.  The drow came in hard and fast, scoring a couple hits, while taking little damage in return from the wizard.  Luckily for Zalman, the Shield spell blocked just enough of the drow’s attacks to keep him alive.

Nigel’s hail of arrows softened up the chain-wielder enough for Rurik to quickly dispatch him.  Rurik spat on the vile dwarf in disdain.  He was quite wounded himself by this time, but couldn’t pause to heal while Zalman was in such danger.  As Rurik charged to Zalman’s aid, the drow noticed that he was now alone and outmatched.  He slipped back into invisibility and retreated.

Amblin cornered the remaining dwarf in the back of the wagon and was pummeled by the invisible power yet again.  Now, he was almost certain that the little dwarf was responsible for the abuse.  The dwarf held up his shield and short sword in defense, but Amblin deftly dodged both and pounded him into unconsciousness.  He then dragged the dwarf out of the burning wagon and (carelessly) dropped him on the ground.

Rurik dropped a quick curing spell on both himself and Zalman and then raced to the body of the young human girl the bandits had been about to rape.  She was still alive, but bruised and unconscious.  Nigel and Zalman watched closely for any sign of the drow – particularly watching for movement in the moderately deep grass.  Amblin checked the other bodies, three human men and a woman, and found them all slain.  At a guess, the girl’s parents and a couple guards.

While they were discussing what to do next, the invisible drow had slipped in near their position and slit the girl’s throat.  Several of the party had been alert enough to notice immediately.  Rurik used the most powerful cure he had left and saved her from near instant death.  The others went into overdrive trying to track the invisible drow’s movements.  The dark elf appeared to be moving back around the nearby (burning) wagon.  Rurik basically covered the girl with his own full-plate clad body while the others went cautiously hunting.

Zalman, lacking any other means of spotting invisible creatures, cast a Detect Magic and started the slow process of looking around the site.  Amblin and Nigel spread out just a bit, straining for any hint of movement, visual or audible.  Finally, as Zalman was just zeroing in on the drow, Amblin spotted movement in the grass and he pounced.  The drow dropped his invisibility to strike back in a flurry of blindingly fast attacks.  The drow had no interest in pursuing the fight any longer, however, and went back invisible and fled for the woods.

Amblin and Nigel both pursued for a distance, but quickly lost the trail in the dim twilit woods.  Knowing that tracking him under these conditions would be dangerous business, they decided to regroup with the others and set up a defensive position.

Rurik pronounced the girl okay, but she remained unconscious.  The others gathered and looted the bodies of the fallen bandits.  The burning wagon was a complete loss by now.  Rurik expended the last of his spells healing up Amblin a bit.

About fifteen minutes after the fight, while discussing their best course of action, the sound of many horses approaching reached them.  A contingent of twenty mounted knights bearing a bright blue standard with a yellow crescent moon on it approached them.

The leader of the group, who introduced himself as Lord Trebain Durlock of Moon Hollow, Captain of Baron Murdain’s Lancers, quickly got the tale of the episode from the cooperative party.  Durlock seemed quite willing to accept their story in light of the evidence in front of him.  He even knew of these bandits – Shadow (the drow) and his current associates:  Gloop Shroomtoes (the bugbear) and the dwarf brothers Ulotar (the prisoner) and Umbar (the deceased).  He informed them that there was a bounty for both the Shadow as well as his associates, and that he would write them a letter of introduction so that they might claim it their partial reward from Duke Gosswall of Water Break.  200 gold a head for the gang members, 500 for the Shadow himself.

The captain ordered his men to secure the prisoner and to carefully bring the girl.  The deceased were wrapped in blankets and tossed over horses.  He informed the group of a site nearby that they frequently used for camp while out patrolling this road.  If they would join him for the night, he would lead them to Unicorn valley in the morning where he could write them their letter of introduction.  The party agreed, happy to have a contingent of well-armed cavalry protecting them while the Shadow was on the loose and very upset with their interference.

At camp, the captain spoke in more detail with them about the Shadow (a disreputable and dangerous local bandit).  He also asked of them and their travels, as well as what brought them to the Water Break area.  They were cautious not to tell too much of their adventures, but did explain that they were from New Selmar and had journeyed here in search of other cities with which to open trade routes.  He seemed satisfied and then left them to sleep.



Next session:  Riding with the Knights and a cool welcome to Water Break.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rurik

All I wanted to do once we got down here was to kill all these infesting little kobolds. But do I get to?  Noooooo


----------



## Rurik

All I wanted to do was kill all these stupid infesting  kobolds!  But do I get to?  Noooooo.....


----------



## Rurik

I swear on the forge of Moradin hisself I will see this "Shadow" die at my hands and put his head on a pike for all to see!


----------



## Rybaer

Rurik said:
			
		

> *I swear on the forge of Moradin hisself I will see this "Shadow" die at my hands and put his head on a pike for all to see! *






Like I said...the players are *very* passionate about this particular villain.  

Of course, Rurik is also expressing his sentiments from the perspective of where the players are currently, not just where this storyhour is.  Since this first encounter, they've fought him again and then learned that he snuck into a dwarven stronghold and murdered an elder cleric/lore keeper.

That's all yet to come.

-Rybaer


----------



## Zalman

Here is why I think we are passionate about getting the Shadow...  We had just had a frustrating encounter with Thrindle-jerk.  Someone who was obviously abusing his power; someone we couldn't do anything about.  Now we run into this Drow Elf who thinks thievery and rape is "okay".  Well, we CAN do something about this.   We were also very suprised by the encounter and most of us were very low on hit points   We almost got him on the next meeting...


----------



## Amblin

*Dragons*

Amblin here, just to cover the dragon incident. I, infact fall on my butt, shock and fear combined to immoblize me. Probably this saved my fate point. As for my puppy I recall having to knock him out and carry him because I didn't like the idea of a dragon clawing my baby. Also at Thrindel Bob's some first noticed my compulsion to dust the corners of clean homes. As in put dust in the corner. All in all it was good to be back with my friends.


----------



## Zalman

For those of you scratching your head due to Amblin's post, let me clarify.  (like butter, but not...)

Amblin was raised by what, in normal society, would be called an abusive care-taker.  Beatings, cleaning the house, re-thatching the roof, piling rocks, etc. were a normal part of everyday life.  Amblin took this in stride, partially out of respect, but mainly because of the beatings.

He has taken to putting a pile of dust in the corner of a very clean room.  He figures it is like giving him something to find so that he will miss something else.  I guess that is some kind of perverse logic, but it works.


----------



## Bommer

To defeat the shadow, we will NEED a strategy.


----------



## Zalman

*Strategy?*

Strategy?  What's that?  When have we EVER used that?


----------



## Rybaer

I don't think I'd go so far as to call Amblin's caretaker abusive.  There were chores...lots of them.  They were, of course, life lessons.  The lessons they taught, however, were often unclear at best and more often unfathomable.  His master, Chelis, also never bothered to explain anything.

In their house, cleanliness was more than a virtue, it was a lifestyle.  Amblin took to rebelling in his own little way by sprinkling a pinch of dust in some obscure corner of any freshly cleaned space...mostly for spite.

Amblin's childhood was like working for Mr. Miyagi in the Karate Kid...only there was no going home at the end of the day, it lasted for 13 years, and there was never an explanation of how or what he was being taught.  However, now that he's been out on his own and finding all manner of trouble, Amblin realizes just how many skills he has at his disposal.

-Rybaer


----------



## Dyme

Nigel Notes

Amblin and dust… don’t remember if it was in character or not, but I do remember hearing why he leaves dust in a corner: If the only thing his master can find fault with his cleaning is the dust, then Amblin has done a perfect job. His test is to see if other housekeepers pay enough attention to find the dust in the corners that he leaves.

Eh. Who understands Humans.

*To defeat the shadow, we will NEED a strategy.*

The only strategy Nigel has for the Shadow is to make him look like a friggin porcupine with all the arrows sticking out of him. And once he’s dead, the Flaming Longsword comes out.

I will withold further comments on the Shadow until a later time, for reasons that will become obvious then.

_Edit: Spelling_


----------



## Zalman

Okay, maybe I thought Amblin's teacher was a little nastier.  :::shrug:::


----------



## Rybaer

I'm sure Amblin would have you believe that his master was really that bad...  You know him, always pandering for people's sympathy.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Session #8.2 – Fight and Pursuit


The party woke to the smell of bacon cooking.  Several of the knights had prepared a breakfast of porridge, bacon, bread and cheese.  The party was welcomed to eat with them, and several of the knights expressed their personal congratulations to the group for taking on the Shadow and surviving to tell the tale.

Rurik checked up on the young girl, Jaqueline deLitt she gave as her name, and found that she was now conscious.  He used Moradin’s power to heal the remainder of her injuries, for which she was grateful.  Overall, though, she was quite distraught by the previous day’s events and the sudden loss of her parents.  She explained that they were wine merchants and had been traveling to High Hill to pick up a supply of casks for later in the summer.  Shadow and his gang attacked them shortly after they had pulled off the road to make camp for the night.  She had some family in Unicorn Valley, which the knights said they’d reach by noon, and she would stay with them.

With breakfast finished, the knights packed and were mounted by the time the sun had fully crested the horizon.  The girl rode behind Rurik while the dwarf prisoner was strapped to one of the knight’s supply horses.  Based on the account of the fight, they assumed him to be some manner of spellcaster and thus he was bound and gagged firmly.  They would interrogate him after they reached their outpost in Unicorn Valley.

The first couple hours of the morning’s ride were pleasant.  Then they found the giants.  A pair of hill giants that had been concealed in a small wooded area not too far from the road started pelting the knights with large rocks.  One knight was pummeled on the first surprise volley and another’s horse was struck hard.  The knights, who were trained to handle this sort of problem while riding their regular road patrols, quickly moved into action.  The captain encouraged our heroes to seek cover or support in whatever fashion they cared to.

The knights split into groups with about one third firing heavy crossbows at the giants’ position while the others split into two squads that prepared to charge with lances in two waves.  The woods in which the giants were located were thin enough to support this sort of activity.  Nigel, who had a particular dislike for giants, dismounted so that he could put his longbow to good use, repeatedly peppering the giants with well-placed shots.  Rurik, also with a keen dislike for the brutes, dismounted and told Jaqueline to ride the horse into the relatively safe cover of another nearby cluster of trees.  Amblin was already moving in a roundabout fashion toward the giants, and Rurik hurried after him.  Zalman took the more cautious approach and accompanied the girl toward cover.  With the knights racing all around the giants, it just wasn’t safe for him to try flinging lightning bolts of fireballs into the fray.

The knights’ first charges were modestly successful.  Both giants were injured, but not as badly as they could have been.  Those knights who had fired crossbows now switched to lances and began another charge of their own.  Nigel continued to pepper away with his bow and Amblin and Rurik closed for melee – seeking the thrill of combat.  Zalman, after seeing the girl safely to the cover of the trees, decided to ride closer so that he could support his companions with magic.  

The fight, which had digressed into pure melee, went mostly in favor of the knights.  A lucky shot by a club-wielding giant killed a knight, but otherwise the dim-witted pair realized that they had picked the wrong fight this morning.  Amblin nimbly jumped in and out of reach of the giants and Rurik relied on his magic armor and dwarven fighting skills to avoid getting hit too hard.  Once one of the giants dropped, Zalman cast Glitterdust on the other, blinding it.  The knights quickly finished him off.

Two knights had perished (both victims of critical hits from the giants) and one horse was badly injured.  Several had taken lesser injuries, and Rurik helped heal the worst of them.  As they were wrapping things up with the giants, someone finally noticed that their captive was missing.  The dwarf, who had been tied up and left slung over a packhorse, had been left behind and ignored during the fight.  The horse was still standing on the road, but only some burned rope fragments were left of the dwarf.

Immediately, the group suspected that the vile Shadow was responsible.  They had no trouble imagining how he could have followed them invisibly and waited for an opportunity to rescue his companion.  The fight with the giants would have been distraction enough to pull it off.  The fact that the ropes had been burned through rather than cut was an unexplained oddity, though.

Nigel found tracks, only those of the dwarf, heading the opposite direction from which the giants had attacked.  They led straight into a larger section of woods.  Zalman sent Hooty ahead to scout from the air.  Amblin, throwing caution to the wind, ran quickly through the woods, following Hooty’s cries.  The others, fearing that the Shadow could still be somewhere nearby, were more cautious.  The knights had only just begun to figure out what was going on and were slow to join up.

After a minute or so, Hooty screeched frantically, indicating to the others that he’d spotted the dwarf.  While Amblin raced that direction, Zalman suddenly got a jolt through his empathic link to his familiar.  Hooty had been slammed hard by some unseen force and was significantly injured.  Zalman immediately ordered the owl to retreat, which the bird happily agreed with.

Amblin, well out ahead of the others, finally started slowing down and scanning the woods for the dwarf.  He knew he was close, based on Hooty’s guidance, but he could not spot the renegade.  Then, the same wave of pummeling force that had hit him several times the night before during their fight came again.  He gritted his teeth and took it, and kept looking for the dwarf.  Again and again the pummeling came, and still he kept looking.  He was getting a little worried, though, as the damage was quickly adding up.  

Finally, just as Nigel was arriving with Rurik and Zalman close behind, Amblin spotted the dwarf buried in some brush at the base of a tree.  The monk, along with his companions, did not return to the knights with a live prisoner this time.

Once the bodies were secured and the scene of the fight cleared up, the knights and the companions returned to the road.  Zalman sent the healed Hooty back to scouting duty, with the express intent of keeping them from finding any more giant ambushes.  Hooty did spot a couple more hill giants, but they were over a mile off the road and not a threat.  By early afternoon, they reached the small farming community of Unicorn Valley.

The captain offered them accommodations at the knights’ barracks should they care to rest overnight.  He said that they could reach Water Break by nightfall if they left immediately, but they might find themselves locked out of the city for the night.  With Rurik depleted of spells, they chose to stay the night and shoot for an early afternoon arrival the next day.  Unicorn Valley offered little in the way of entertainment or supplies, so they spent most of their time eating, resting, and tending to their gear.


Next session:  Water Break's tourism council welcomes our heroes with open arms.

-Rybaer


----------



## Zalman

*Hootie?*

I am very fond of my Hootie... He is a companion, a friend.  During role playing we have joked with each other and had fun. (I love when he brings some dead rat or snake and leaves it on Rurik...)  This was the closest to danger he had ever been and I was shocked when he was almost mortally wounded.

(he will get the same shock soon... more on that in a couple of weeks, though)

I, for one, absolutely LOVE Water Break.  (Don't let anyone tell you otherwise)  The guards at the gate are friendly, courteous and always ready to assist you.  You never have trouble finding entertainment (even the Dwarf had enough "spirits" to be incompacitated) or guests to talk to and the night life is wonderful.  (people were constantly coming to our room)  I often think of my wild night with a halfling - the clothing literally ripped from my body - I long to return so that I can find my Dear Misty and be with her again...

  Yeah... sure....


----------



## Rybaer

Yes, Zalman was quite shocked at the direct attack on his familiar.  Of all the things that had happened in the game to this point, I think this was one of the more startling "I can't believe you (DM) just did that" moments for all of the players.  More often than not, I tend to forget that Hooty is even around unless Zalman has specifically asked him to do something.  In this instance, the attack on Hooty was well within the context of events.

Zalman isn't the only one passionate about the city of Water Break, either.  All of the characters have highly memorable experiences.  Oh, and remember the party's plan to try to avoid splitting up (because they always get into trouble when they do)?  Well, within 36 hours of entering the city, the four of them manage to get split up four ways.  But I get ahead of myself.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Session #9.1 – Welcome to Water Break


Early the next morning, Lord Durlock handed them a letter of introduction along with a brief account of their handiwork with the Shadow’s gang and their assistance in the slaying of two hill giants.  They thanked him for his hospitality at the barracks and left for the city.

The morning was already hot and humid, promising to become a sweltering day.  The rolling hill lands began to flatten out into farmland in the river basin on the coast.  Cresting one of the last hills, they were greeted with a wonderful view of the ocean and, in the distance, the city of Water Break itself.  For most in the party, the ocean was truly something new, an awe-inspiring sight.  The city, while still quite distant, also looked impressive.  Kisty had told them that the population was only around fifteen thousand, less than half what it had been prior to the war.  That still made it almost an order of magnitude larger than New Selmar.

The road continued east toward the coast, then veered north to the city.  They reached the southern-most gate of the city shortly after noon.  A shantytown of sorts had grown up around the gate and the group was assaulted by peddlers hawking their wares.  They ignored these, however, and got in line behind several merchants and travelers waiting entrance to the city.

As they neared the gate, they could see that all seeking entrance to the city were being screened and questioned.  There were numerous guards standing around and a pair of men wearing dark red robes.  The merchants and their carts and wagons were being moved through a sort of corral of unusual stonework.  Zalman was immediately suspicious that it was magical in nature.

When it was the group’s turn, the guards gave them (and their gear) suspicious looks.  One of the robed individuals stepped up before them and asked if they were in possession of any magical items or if any of them were spellcasters.  They replied, honestly, that they were in possession of magic items and three of them were capable of casting spells.  The robed man, a middle aged human, asked them to accompany him through a small door in the city’s wall, just inside the gate.  They tethered their horses outside and continued in.

They were led into a small waiting room.  There were a few chairs and a couch, but little else.  They asked what this was all about.  He replied that the city had strict laws in place regarding the use of magic and magical items and that they would have to go through the proper registration processes before entering the city.  No one liked the sound of that, but they tolerated it.

One at a time, they were led to a side room.  This small chamber had a small raised platform in one corner, a couple chairs, and a cabinet.  Two men wearing the red robes were present, as well as a serious looking half elf dressed in ornate half plate armor and toting an impressive longsword.  The half elf leaned against a wall, observing the proceedings but doing and saying nothing.

The priests, as the group later learned the red-robed ones to be, explained that one by one they’d be asked to stand upon the platform while being asked a few standard questions.  The platform was enchanted to reveal any falsehoods.  Each reluctantly agreed to this procedure.

First, each was asked if he was a spellcaster.  For those who were, they were asked as to what type (arcane or divine) and then asked to give a small demonstration.  Zalman was told that the casting of arcane magic was not completely illegal, but was highly restricted to utility spells.  Most offensive and defensive spells, as well as any that could affect another person, were forbidden.  An exhaustive list could be obtained at the city hall.  Rurik and Nigel, both divine casters, were informed that the casting of any divine magic inside the city was strictly forbidden, regardless of nature.  Furthermore, the open worship of any deity was forbidden.

After the question of their abilities as a spellcaster, they were then asked to describe the properties of each magic item they had in their possession.  Any that were as yet unidentified (and the group had several in this category) had to either be identified on the spot (for a nominal charge by the clergy) or left with the guards until they left the city.  This holding service, of course, comes with an additional charge.  Oh, and all magic items they choose to keep with them require an even bigger registration fee.  As these fees started to become apparent, the group started to worry about how much cash on hand they had and whether they could afford to bring their gear into the city.  They were keen on getting their items identified (as no one in the group was capable of doing this), so that money was spent.  Then they realized they simply had too many items to afford to bring them all into the city.  They prioritized their gear into things they might need and things they wouldn’t dare leave in the care of the city guard and/or these strange clerics.  Once that was all straightened out, they paid their fees and were allowed into the city proper.

Before they left, a couple other things were made clear to them (both through casual conversation and direct questioning of the red-robed ones).  First, the trade of magic items was highly regulated and each item had to be processed through the city’s magic regulatory council.  Second, the clerics were of the Church of the Small (this had no meaning to any in the party).  Third, the massive amount of screening at the gate was due to several waves of disease that had struck the city, each magical in nature and unknown in origin.

The city was busy, and much more crowded than what they had been accustomed to in New Selmar.  A broad avenue led from the south gate north toward the river.  Merchants and shops lined much of the street.  Leading their horses, they walked down the street, primarily intent upon reporting to the Duke both to claim their reward and to try to establish diplomatic ties with their hometown.

A young boy of about ten years, wearing ragged patchwork clothes, accosted them.  He repeatedly offered to help them find anything they needed in the city.  Finally, they asked him where they could find the Duke, a halfway decent inn, and someone who traded in gemstones.  He said he’d lead them where they wanted to go, but they insisted that he just give them the information.  Reluctantly, he did so, and they threw a few coins his way.

The Duke lived in the keep just across the river, the boy had explained.  There were several decent inns in that part of town as well.  As for someone dealing in gems, he mentioned a couple names of merchants in the Exchange district – which they would pass through on their way to the Duke’s keep.  Depleted of nearly all coin, the group decided to stop in the Exchange district first to cash in some of their gemstones.  They found one of the merchants the kid had mentioned down a side avenue.  He seemed pleasant enough and fairly honest, though admittedly, the group had no concept of how valuable their gems actually were.  They cashed in a few for a mix of gold and platinum and returned to the main avenue.

As they continued down the street, Amblin’s dog decided that it was hungry enough to make an unwelcome grab at a passerby’s meat pie.  The passerby, who roared in outrage, happened to be a rather large half orc dressed in loose fitting green jerkin and pants.  He, and his ten similarly dressed companions, turned on Amblin and demanded an explanation.

Amblin tried to make nice with the half orc while reprimanding his dog.  Nigel, Rurik and Zalman all moved to back up their friend in case things turned sour.  As the fuming half orc and Amblin exchanged words, the half orc slowly came to a realization (based on a combination of Amblin’s appearance, posture, and manner of speaking).  He asked Amblin outright if he was trained in the arts of unarmed fighting.  Amblin acknowledged that he was.  The half orc introduced himself as Druk Var of the Green Snake School.  He asked Amblin what school he was a student of.  Amblin was at a loss.  He had never heard of there being schools that taught unarmed fighting.  His master had never spoken of such things.  When Amblin said this, the half orc gave him a studious look.

“Perhaps we can learn of your style through demonstration,” he said to Amblin.  “My master hails from the Southlands, where many different schools teach.  He may be able to tell you more of your style by watching you move and hearing of your philosophy.”

Amblin was sold.  “I’d be very interested in this.”

A bit of a dark look returned to the face of the half orc again, but this time with just a hint of amusement in his eyes.  “First, however, is the matter of your unruly dog.  You will satisfy my honor by dueling me tonight.”

Amblin hesitated for a moment and then accepted.  His friends had a bit more mixed feelings about this.

“Come tonight, two hours before midnight, to the Sprite’s Crypt.  It’s a tavern down in the Ironworks district.  Bring your friends, too.  You’ll need them.”  With that, the half orc and his companions walked down the avenue in the opposite direction of the Duke’s keep.

The group discussed whether this duel was a good idea or not.  Amblin had no intention of missing it, though, both for the sake of his and the half orc’s honor, as well as the opportunity to possibly learn more about the style of martial arts he had been trained in.  Everyone agreed to come along so as to keep the group together and because of Druk Var’s insinuation that they would be needed.

By late afternoon, they had made their way across the river and into a classier portion of the city.  There were several temples to various deities, though there was conspicuously little activity around them.  They decided to find an inn before continuing on to the keep.  One such establishment, the Priest’s Pole, seemed to offer the combination of services and price they sought.  When they told the inn keep that they were in town to seek an audience with the Duke, he informed them that Duke Gosswall typically held open court each morning, between ten and noon.

They had their horses stabled and made arrangements for the stable boy to care for Amblin’s dog as well.  They split between two rooms on the second floor and then proceeded to have a relaxed dinner.  

Shortly after dark, they returned to the south end of the city, seeking the Sprite’s Crypt.  A couple inquiries later, they found the seedy looking place down a poorly lit side street in the more industrial section of town.  What few people were about on the street at this hour avoided them.  Given the amount of armor and weaponry the group was toting about, this was hardly surprising.

The Sprite’s Crypt was a dark inside.  It smelled of sweat and iron.  Most of the men in the establishment had the dirty look of those who had put in a hard day’s work and were putting back a few drinks over a game of dice.  Amblin spotted Druk Var and a couple of his companions seated at a table on the far side of the room.  The monks, while not quite fitting with the other clientele, did not seem entirely out of place.  Perhaps they frequented this place.

“Good to see you made it,” Druk Var said as he rose to meet them.  “We’ll lead you the rest of the way.”

The monks led them out into the street, down a block, and then down a dark alley.  “Have you ever heard of the Duel of the Bat?” Druk asked Amblin.

“Uh, no,” he replied.  He could scarcely see in the darkness, but he sensed that the half orc was smiling.

“I think you’ll enjoy it.”  The half orc’s companions chuckled.



Next session:  Duel of the Bat, Boonzang's Edifice, and an audience with the Duke.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rurik

*Questions by the guards at the gate*

When we entered the city I was wearing a Cap og Disguise.  I made myself look like me...with the excepion of my shield.  We were warned by the Unicorn Vally guardsmen that open worship of any god other than this "Church of the Small" was strictly forbidden.  My shield is one big holy symbol with its ornate engraving of Moradin's Hammer.  So I simply (with the cap) made it look blank.  When they asked what it did, I replyed that it was enchanted to inprove the protection it provided.  I simply left out the part about it improving my turning and healing abilities...not the whole truth, but a truthful enough answer to get past the Zone of Truth spell on the platform.


----------



## Rurik

*Church of the Small*

From the time I started hearing about this place (Water Break), I became weary of it.  Although I know Moradin is the true Soulforger, I accept that other gods do exist and let people worship as they will.  Any church who denies the freedom to choose your faith is only trying to enslave others and make themselves rich.  Only through true faith, and not forced, can one become enlightened and powerful...like me.


----------



## Bommer

*Return to Water Break.*

Sounds like an interesting city. Will we return to Water Break soon? The concern with no divine casting has piqued my interest.


----------



## Rybaer

*Re: Return to Water Break.*



			
				Bommer said:
			
		

> *Sounds like an interesting city. Will we return to Water Break soon? The concern with no divine casting has piqued my interest. *





Well, your comrades have been in and out of the city about three times, I believe, prior to your return to the game.  As far as they're concerned, that was probably three times too many.  However, there are still a few loose ends there.  Ultimately, it's up to the party as to whether or not they ever return.

Wait until you get the whole story, though, before you start sounding too eager to check out the city.

-Rybaer


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## Amblin

*Dust and Stuff*

All the aforementioned are true to some extent. An oddly annal yet very aloft master. Giving little (ie. no) positive feed back for a job done. Forget about if it's done well. Then it's just move on to the next chore. In my mine I needed some way to get gratifcation. As for all the other things I've been taught, most of those want come to play until after my next meeting with my master.


----------



## Amblin

*Teachings*

Spelling is not one of the lessons stressed in my dojo. Nor is getting fluge around upside down with your feet tied together by three untrained "friends" suprisingly enough. You'll hear of this latter though.


----------



## Zalman

*Friends?*

Amblin, why do you put the word "friends" in quotations?  As if we are "supposed" friends or "alleged" friends.  We are friends.

I still insist that the tactical move I made in the fighting arena with my end of the rope worked exactly as anticipated.  Maybe not like you anticipated, but more like I anticipated.

Church of the Small was a good name for the religion here.  Although I have no idea what their ethos is, just the name fits the city.  Small minded, small genitalia....


----------



## Zalman

Is anyone other than the party reading this?  Quick post, if you will, just to let us know there is intelligent (semi) life on the internet


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## Bommer

*Semi-Intelligent*

Just whom are you trying to fool?   Just about every time somebody departs from the group and engages in combat dies.


----------



## Arkham

I've been reading and quite enjoying the story...


----------



## Zalman

*WoooHoooo*

"Looks like we's gots ourself a ree-dah"  
                                - Bill Hicks

(That's for your Bommer)


----------



## Rybaer

Session #9.2 - Amblin does Batman; Meeting with the Duke


Druk Var led the group through an unremarkable door at the end of the dark alley.  It opened into a large, high-ceilinged warehouse.  The building was empty aside from a couple foot thick layer of loose hay spread across the center of the floor.  About twenty other monks of the Green Snake School stood around the perimeter of the building, lighting several torches and lanterns set in the walls.  The only other noteworthy feature were the heavy ropes looped through pulleys on the ceiling.

Druk led Amblin and the others to the far end of the room and grabbed an odd-looking leather harness.  "Basically," he began, "the Duel of the Bat works like this.  Both of us will have our legs bound in one of these harnesses.  Each harness will then be attached to three ropes looped through those pulleys up on the ceiling.  Two of your friends will be positioned in the corners behind you and one will be centered against the far wall opposite the other two.  All three will have an end of a rope.

"You and I will be suspended upside down.  Our three helpers will control our movements, both side to side and up and down, through pulling in or releasing slack in the rope they hold.  The contest ends when one of the two of us is knocked unconscious."

Amblin, Rurik, Zalman and Nigel quickly talked strategy.  This was unlike anything they had ever done or even fathomed before.  They decided to have Nigel man the far rope, as he was the strongest of the three holders.  Zalman and Rurik each took one of the corners behind Amblin.  They assumed that the monks of the Green Snake School had done this before and would therefore have a better grasp of rope strategy.  Therefore, their own tactics were intended to minimize that advantage by trying to get Amblin's ropes wrapped around Druk's ropes.

Starting some 20' off the floor (35' ceiling in the warehouse), and about thirty feet from one another, the duel began.  Both team's rope pullers started conservatively, getting a feel for how their pulling and releasing affected their combatant's location.  (Druk, honorably, had selected three young monk initiates who had never done this before to make the contest more balanced.)

For some time, neither contestant could gain much advantage, or even land a very solid hit.  A few weak swings as they went swooping wildly past one another was the best they could manage.  The rope pullers moved them back and forth across the room, as well as trying to gain height advantages.  When it became apparent to Amblin and his friends that it would be difficult to ever wrap Amblin's ropes around Druk's because of the angles involved, they instead worked on trying to get Amblin close enough to grab hold of Druk's "front" rope.  This he accomplished, but a reactionary pull by both of Druk's rear pullers yanked the rope back out of Amblin's hands.

As the duel wore on, Amblin realized he was losing.  He was likely more skilled and nimble than the half orc, but Druk was stronger and had landed a couple lucky shots on him.  Eventually, the two got close enough together for just long enough to get entangled a bit.  Both landed several blows, but Amblin finally succumbed to unconsciousness.  The monks watching cheered both contestants for a well-fought duel.  Rurik healed up Amblin while the ropes and harnesses were stowed away.

"Well fought, Amblin," Druk said as he clapped him on the back.  "You're a worthy opponent and I wager one who'd win this type of a fight as often as not against me.  Let's go have some drinks!"

With that, all the companions joined the monks at the Sprite's Crypt for several hours of drinking and conversation.  They learned a bit more about the rise of the Red Cult (as the priests of the Church of the Small were generally referred to) in the wake of the waves of disease that had struck the city over the last few years.  There was strong reason to believe that the diseases were magical in nature, but none of the local clergy were able to come up with a way to stop or combat it.  The Red Cult had apparently stepped forward with a solution, but in exchange for some considerable concessions from the Duke.  The Duke would decree that open worship or recruiting of converts to any religion other than that of the Church of the Small would be made illegal.  Private worship was still tolerated, but divine magic forbidden.  In exchange, the Church of the Small would provide the means by which to screen magic coming into and out of the city, as well as closely monitor its use within the city.  This entailed granting them considerable power within the city guard as well.

When probed a bit further, Druk said that it didn't seem to anyone like the Duke was very happy with the arrangement.  However, after repeated waves of disease, he was willing to do almost anything to put an end to it.  Many people suspected that the Red Cult was actually the group behind the disease, but considerable investigation by the other churches into that very angle had yielded nothing.  Now that the diseases had been stopped for just over a year, the people had become a bit more tolerant and forgiving of the Cult.

Wanting to be fresh and presentable for their audience with the Duke the following morning, the group said their farewells to Druk and the other monks.  Druk gave Amblin directions to their dojo and invited him to stop by anytime to visit with his master.  Amblin thanked him and with that they returned to their rooms at the Priest's Pole.

Night passed uneventfully and they ate a generous breakfast at the inn.  Grabbing all their gear (not trusting to leave anything valuable unattended in the inn), they walked up the main avenue toward the keep.  Just outside the gates of the keep stood an unusual structure, or object.  Thrusting up out of the very ground was what appeared to be a massive column of rose quartz.  Extending fully twenty feet up in the air and with a diameter of over ten feet, it was impressive.  Most of its surface was uneven, comprised of countless crystal faces.  On one side, however, was a flat and recessed area.  It was perfectly rectangular, shaped like a doorway but lacking a handle.  A few people were standing around it, chatting.

Curiousity getting the better of them, they stopped to ask the locals just what the thing was.  One man explained that it was called Boonzang's Edifice.  Supposedly, it had been around for a long time.  Created by a wizard by the name of Boonzang, it was rumored to house treasures of inestimable value.  Of course, no one seemed to be able to figure out how to get inside it.  They thanked the man and decided that they would come back after their audience and have a closer look at the thing.

The group spoke with a guard at the keep’s gate and were allowed into the courtyard.  They ascended the steps to the gate proper and another guard halted them.  A messenger was sent inside and returned a minute later with a severely dressed female elf who radiated an aura of complete authority.  She introduced herself as Chamberlain Avae Moonhope.  She asked their names and purpose, seemingly cataloguing every fact in her mind.  They explained who they were, where they were from, and their purpose.  They also showed her the letter of introduction that Lord Durlock had given them.  She raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch (the biggest expression they’d seen from her yet) as she read the letter.

“Very well,” she said at last.  “You may present yourselves to the Duke.  However, I must insist that you attire yourselves in a manner more suitable to the court.”  She cast a distasteful look over their bloodstained and battered clothing and armor.  “I suppose we could find something suitable to lend you.  Please follow me.”

She led them through several halls and finally arrived at a small room, empty aside from a table and a few chairs.  “Please wait here.  Servants will bring suitable clothing in a few minutes.  I would ask that you leave your weaponry behind.  I will have a guard posted at the door to watch over it while you are in court.”  With that she left.

Minutes later, several servants arrived with clothing suitable to their sizes.  They were unfamiliar with some of the styles, but eventually got things sorted out enough to be presentable.  Rurik chose to wear his clerical vestments, regardless of the position of the Red Cult in the city.  Amblin wore his displacer beast hide vest over a pair of pants he found among the pile.

The chamberlain returned a short while later and led them to Duke Gosswall’s court.  It was a long rectangular room with many rows of unoccupied chairs down the length.  Perhaps twenty or so minor nobles and petitioners sat in the first few rows.  The Duke, a well built human of late middle age, sat upon a large oak chair on a slightly raised dias.  On either side of him stood a minotaur dressed in chainmail, wearing the Duke’s emblem, and carrying a sheathed greatsword.  

The minotaurs were clearly the most imposing figures in the room.  What little most knew of them, they were reputed to be evil, wild, and inclined to stupidity.  Zalman, who was well steeped in monster lore, also noted that their coloration was unusual.  Most minotaurs, from what he’d read, had fur somewhere between red and brown in coloration.  These two, though, were mostly grey with some streaks of black.  

After a couple merchants wrapped up their business with the Duke, the Chamberlain indicated it was their turn.  She led them before the Duke and introduced each by name and hometown.  They bowed respectfully.  Avae handed the letter of introduction over to Duke Gosswall who quickly read it.  He quickly became much more interested in hearing what they had to say.

At his prodding, they told of their hometown and mission to find other cities with which to open trade.  They glossed over some of their adventures en route, but were careful to steer clear of things such as Shadykin, Thrindlemond, and the prophecy.  They did, however, mention the name of Kisty Goodbread as the citizen of Water Break who led them back this way.  (This is a very critical point to note for events that will soon transpire.)

In the end, they concluded with their fight with the Shadow and his gang as well as their assistance in slaying the pair of giants.  The Duke was intrigued and told them he would be interested in hearing more in private.  He invited them to join him for lunch, which they accepted, and then he called an end to business for the day.

The Duke led the group through a side door and to a private dining room.  Joining them was Baron Paul Murdain of Moon Hollow, the man for whom Lord Trebain Durlock worked.  While they seated themselves about the table, the pair of minotaurs discreetly positioned themselves in corners of the room.  Servants brought several courses of excellent food and they ate and drank with the Duke.  Throughout the meal, both nobles pressed for more details of their stories, eager to hear tales of excitement and to learn the fate of other lands in the aftermath of the war.

When the meal was finished, the Duke spoke up.  “Well, I’m afraid that there is little I could personally do the establish trade routes with New Selmar.  What I can do for you, however, is give you a letter of introduction and recommend that you go to the Trader’s Guild.  They have a building in the center of the exchange and many of the city’s merchants have offices there.  I suspect you might be able to convince one of them that operating a caravan out to New Selmar might be worth a few coppers.  In the meantime, if you need anything else from me, ask and I’ll see what I can do.  I certainly appreciate you unsolicited help in dealing with the Shadow’s gang.  A darn shame you couldn’t get that bastard himself.”

The group nodded in agreement.  A servant was instructed to lead them back to get their gear.  They also found that a small wood chest had been brought to their room with their reward money for both the slain gang members and for helping deal with the giants – some 800 gold in all.  The chamberlain returned to their room just as they were finishing changing and presented them with a letter of introduction from the Duke.  She led them back out of the keep and bade them good day.

With that bit of business done, they decided what to do next.  They really only had a couple items on their agenda:  inspect Boonzang’s Edifice, speak with some merchants about trade with New Selmar, and speak with the master of the Green Snake School to learn more about Amblin’s style.  With Boonzang’s Edifice right in front of them, they decided to start with that.

They inspected the surface and found no discernable cracks.  Zalman checked it with a Detect Magic and found it to be quite powerfully enchanted.  A knowledgeable guard nearby was able to give them a little bit better history of the object, including the one clue that the old wizard left behind regarding how to get inside it:  “The hint will reveal itself in the green-lit waters of the Emerald Spring.”  He told them that the Emerald Spring was a revered place in the Blackwood Park, in the northeastern-most part of the city.

It wasn’t much to go by, but they thought they’d take a crack at it.  The park wasn’t difficult to find, and it was just past a much wealthier part of the city.  It was large and full of massive trees and dark, winding paths.  They asked a few locals who were wandering the park where the spring was, and soon they were upon it.  The Emerald Spring was a natural spring-fed pool with incredibly clear water.  The stones in the bottom were mostly grays and whites, though streaks of green cut through some of the stone, giving the spring its name.  The spring was surrounded by trees on three sides and on the fourth was a small waterfall that fell down a small cliff to the rocky shore of the Bay of Thunder.

It was a serene place.  It also yielded no clues as to how to open the Edifice.  They looked above and below it.  Hooty scanned from the air for anything unusual.  Zalman tried to Detect Magic again (nothing).  They checked the falls, the trees, the stones.  Nothing.  Finally, they were running out of steam.  As they went over the clue again, they thought that perhaps if they could illuminate the waters with a green light they might get somewhere.  They decided to make a foray into the merchant district that afternoon to find some very sheer green fabric that they could hold over a torch or lantern.  With that, they left.

Back in the city proper, they went downtown.  Amblin was commissioned the copying of a map of the region between New Selmar (or Selmar as it was on the mapmaker’s old version) and Water Break.  After that, Rurik went into a tailor’s shop to see what they had in the way of green fabric.  While he was busy doing that, an attractive girl in her late teens approached Amblin who was standing around outside the shop with Nigel.  Something in Amblin’s manner of dress and posture had caught her attention, and she didn’t come across as the shy type.

She struck up a conversation and managed to introduce both herself (Marina Opal) and her friend (Svala Sennering) to Amblin and Nigel.  After a few minutes, Marina asked if the two of them would be interested in joining them that night at a private affair.  Amblin eagerly accepted and Nigel half-heartedly agreed.  The girls, while attractive, must have struck him as being a bit too cute and a bit too human for his tastes.  She gave them directions and a password to get into the club and told them to meet them inside sometime after ten o’clock that night.

Once the girls had parted ways, Amblin and Nigel took advantage of the tailors whose shop Rurik was inside.  They both selected fashionable yet somewhat conservative attire and had it fitted for them.  Rurik, meanwhile, had a small selection of different green fabrics and was ready to depart.  

The group returned once more to the Emerald Spring and tried a few different ways of shining light through green fabrics.  Still, no clues revealed themselves.  They considered the possibility that they might have to try at nighttime.  With evening fast approaching and Amblin and Nigel still in need of dinner and a return to the tailor to pick up their clothes, they finally gave up on the riddle for the night.

Rurik and Zalman decided to have a nice dinner at the inn and retire to their room to get caught up on studies, annotating spellbooks, and quiet meditation.  Amblin and Nigel both grabbed a quick dinner, got suited up in some new duds, and went off to party with the young ladies.

Oh how the evening would unravel…


Next session:  Amblin loses two things, a Lady spots Nigel, Zalman meets the family, and Rurik just plain has a rotten night.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

I had fun with the Duel of the Bat.  It was definitely a change of pace for the players.  I concocted a set of rules that dictated how the pulling and releasing of the three ropes would move that contestant in three dimensions.  I then added attack and defense modifiers based on movement and position.  With several sets of cheat sheet notes and the use of a large hex map (the three-axes worked quite well), the whole affair played pretty smoothly.  Ultimately, I wanted to give Amblin a chance to duel another monk, but I didn't want it to be just a plain vanilla face to face fight.  Hanging upside down by ropes that were under the control of three friends ended up being much more interesting.

Boonzang's Edifice was dropped in as a little aside that the players can puzzle over whenever they're in the mood and in the area.  There is the promise of great treasure inside, but of course that means the solution to gaining access won't be easy.  Besides, I just like saying the name "Boonzang."  Has a nice ring to it.

-Rybaer


----------



## Bommer

*Talking Strategy or The Duel of the Bat?*

 Amblin, Rurik, Zalman and Nigel quickly talked strategy. This was unlike anything they had ever done or even fathomed before.


----------



## Rybaer

Session #9.3 – On the Town Suite

(My apologies in advance for such a long post.  I considered breaking it up, but the events really fit into one continuous reading much better.)


It was a hot, muggy summer night in Water Break.  The air felt as if it needed a good thunderstorm to unleash its built-up tension.  People were moving about through the lamp-lit streets in search of nighttime entertainment, particularly on this week’s end eve.  Nigel and Amblin, dressed in their new threads, moved with the crowds toward the river that cut through the center of the port city.  Amblin was feeling carefree and eager.  After all, he was off to a party with the beautiful brunette Marina after almost two months of rough travel and harrowing adventure.  Nigel felt a bit more like a chaperone to the young human, but he forced himself to try and relax and enjoy the downtime.  It was difficult, though, in this strange city and without his comfortable leather armor or trusty elven bow.  At least he had a dagger tucked away inside his pant leg.  Something in the back of his mind kept suggesting that he’d need it before the night was out.

At the riverfront, they turned right and followed the noise and lights spilling from several taverns.  A couple blocks further, they finally found the entrance the girls had described.  The place had no name, it was merely a non-descript door set among others in a densely packed block.  They recognized it by the throng of people milling about outside waiting on others and by the pair of half-orc brutes that blocked access.  Amblin gave the bouncers the password and they were admitted.  A long, dark hallway eventually led to a surprisingly large establishment.  The main room was packed with well-dressed folk of all description.  Two bars were busy serving drinks and a group of bards were producing a lively melody from an elevated stage in the far corner.  Several passages led off the main room and there was an open stairway leading to a balcony with still more doors and passages.

In spite of the throng, they managed to spot Marina and Svala soon enough.  They were with a group of friends getting drinks at one of the bars.  When Amblin and Nigel finally reached them, Marina gave Amblin an enthusiastic hug and kiss on the cheek and thanked them for coming to the party.  Drinks were had all around, and Amblin started on his way to his first really good drunk of his short life.  After Marina introduced Amblin and Nigel to her friends, the group started splitting up.  Marina pulled Amblin to the dance floor.  Amblin, with no formal training in dance, faked it remarkably well and let the girl teach him the rest.  Nigel and Svala joined them on the floor after finishing their drinks.

After a while dancing, Marina and Amblin were hitting things off marvelously.  Both were drinking and dancing and having a wonderful time.  Nigel and Svala were a bit more restrained.  The elf could tell that Svala was not overly keen on him.  Eventually, she muttered something about meeting some other friends who had just come in and that she’d find him again later.  Now Nigel really felt out of place.  Nursing another drink, he casually mingled with the shadows in the corners and decided to just keep an eye on Amblin and make sure to keep his drunk ass out of trouble.

-----

Back at the Priest’s Pole, Zalman and Rurik were living things up.  Zalman was studying his spellbook, making notes and updating certain spells.  Rurik was busily sharpening his axe, polishing his armor, and drinking ale.  As the hour closed in on midnight, flashes of distant lightning could be seen through their window.  A storm was coming, but it was still far enough away that the thunder could not be heard over the ambient noises of the city.

Trying to get some air flowing through the stifling room, Rurik opened the window just a bit further.  Their room looked out over a dark courtyard behind the inn.  It was an L-shaped affair and they were near the corner.  The stables were further back, across the courtyard.  While standing there, savoring each hint of breeze, Amblin’s dog started barking and growling.  Rurik’s darkvision couldn’t quite make out the dog or what it might have been barking at.  He yelled at it to shut up, but it refused to comply.  Zalman, tired and bleary eyed, dropped his quill on the desk.

“What’s that dog’s problem?” he asked the dwarf.

“Dunno,” Rurik replied.  “I can’t see anything out there.”  Zalman just grunted.  “I’ll go shut ‘im up.  I could use some fresh air anyway.”

Rurik looked at his armor, shield and axe, thought for a moment, and then just left the room without his gear.  At least he had a dagger in his boot if there was something making trouble out there.  He went down the stairs, past the relatively quiet tavern on the first floor, and out the back door into the courtyard.  He stomped over to the far corner of the stables where the dog had been tied up.  As his darkvision began to reveal the back of the yard, he could make out a man dressed in dark clothing and openly carrying a short sword trying to make his way around the dog’s reach.  At that moment, the man heard Rurik’s approach and turned his sword on the dwarf.  Rurik pulled his dagger and prepared to cast a spell when the man charged and attacked.

Rurik ordinarily wouldn’t be too concerned with a mere thug, but he ordinarily would be wearing his magic full-plate armor with his magic shield in one hand and masterwork dwarven war axe in the other.  Instead, defending himself with a dagger, he took the charge with only a minor scratch.  At this point, Amblin’s dog had managed to work itself up so furiously that it snapped it’s rope and attacked the thug from behind.  Seeing an opening, Rurik abandoned the spellcasting and sank his dagger into the assailant’s thigh.  He grinned and prepared to stab again when two sharp pricks hit him in his back.

“What the heck?” he blurted as he felt around and found a pair of tiny crossbow bolts protruding from his back.  The bolts themselves hadn’t hurt much, but a lethargic feeling suddenly came over him.  Within moments, his muscles all seized up and he collapsed in the dirt of the courtyard, paralyzed.  He watched helplessly as the thug turned on Amblin’s dog and ran it through with his short sword.  

The side door to the stables opened upon them at that moment and a crack of weak yellow light from a lantern held by the stable boy lit the scene.  Rurik could only tell that the thug was dressed all in black and that the dog was most definitely dead.  The thug looked up at the boy and growled.  The stable boy let out a gasp and slammed the door shut.

Zalman, meanwhile, had been trying to focus back on his studies.  He sipped his glass of wine and picked his quill back up.  Amblin’s dog, however, kept barking.  If anything, it was getting even more animated.  Hoping Rurik would hurry up, Zalman sat back, closed his eyes, and focused on listening.  Two thwacks from somewhere just outside his window caught his ear.  He wasn’t quite sure what they were, but they just seemed out of place.  Moments later, the dog abruptly yelped and gurgled mid-bark.  That didn’t sound good, Zalman thought to himself.  He got up and peered out the window.  It was too dark for him to see anything aside from a few distant city lights.  Even the increasingly frequent flashes of lightning didn’t help much – there were a couple large trees hanging over much of the yard.

Zalman closed his spell book and then slid the group’s small treasure chest up against the room’s door.  He then leaned his staff against both the door and the chest and muttered the command word to render it immobile, effectively blocking shut their door and pinning the chest closed and in spot.  He then went back to the window and looked around more closely.  Again, there was nothing to be seen or heard.  As it was a short drop from their second floor window to the ground, he decided to just climb out.  Before he could even drop to the ground, another of those thwaks he’d heard earlier came again, and he was pretty sure they were from the roof of the inn.  Two sharp pinpricks of pain lanced his side and arm and the paralysis overtook him as he landed awkwardly on the ground and rolled onto his back.

Zalman laid there, watching as two men dressed in black looked back at him from the corner of the inn’s roof.  They tucked hand crossbows into their cloaks and called out to their accomplice who was standing over the paralyzed dwarf.  Rurik, half expecting the thug to just run him through with his sword, was surprised when he walked away toward the inn.  Though he was facing the wrong direction, he could hear what was going on over by the inn and he surmised that they’d gotten Zalman as well.  

One of the thugs on the roof swung under the eaves and into Zalman and Rurik’s room.  Zalman could hear grunting and swearing and, in spite of his predicament, he couldn’t help but be amused at the thug’s frustration in trying to move the treasure chest.  The other two thugs stood over him then and discussed something in hushed tones.  “Which one should we take?” one asked.  The other replied, “How ‘bout this one?  He’s gotta be easier to carry than that dwarf.”  With that, they tossed a bag over his head and knocked him unconscious with a sap – just in case the paralysis wasn’t sufficient.

The two picked up Zalman and called for their comrade.  Noise could be heard from the inn now and they were getting anxious to leave.  Rurik could just make out their conversation.  “The chest is all stuck.  Some magic stick or something.”  “Can you open it?”  “No!”  “Well, just leave it then!  We gotta hurry.”  “Ugh.  Fine.”

That was the last that Rurik heard from the thugs.  All he could do was lay on the ground, paralyzed and helpless.  Fury began to build within him just as the thunder from the approaching storm began to shake the buildings of the city.

-----

Back at the party, Amblin was starting to act silly.  Marina seemed okay with that, though.  They had made their way upstairs and through a quieter room set with tables full of partiers having their own private conversations.  Beyond that was a long porch overlooking a park-like courtyard in the center of the city block.  A few couples were out on the dark porch, enjoying the cool air coming in ahead of the storm.

Amblin started showing off, leaping off the porch and bouncing around the courtyard.  The combination of his monkish speed, leaping prowess, and Ring of Jumping, he was putting on quite a show.  Nigel, who had slipped onto the porch behind them and made himself scarce in a shadowy corner, just shook his head.  “Kid just can’t hold his liquor.”  

Finally, Amblin tired of showing off and came back up to the porch.  He and Marina started kissing, touching and giggling.  Nigel really wanted to be somewhere else, doing anything else.  Unexpectedly, he got his wish.

A lady, elven, wearing a dress of cream and white silks that clung over her figure in a most flattering fashion, came out onto the porch, spotted him, and unabashedly approached his hiding spot.  Nigel was surprised that she had spotted him in the shadowy corner, but he reminded himself that she was an elf.  Her skin was pale white and her hair was a golden yellow color that never appears in humans.  Startling blue eyes pierced into him as she stepped within a foot of him.  She proffered one of the two glasses she carried.

“May I share a glass of wine with you?” she asked.  Her voice was song itself.  Nigel appreciated the grace with which she carried herself, something no human woman could achieve.

“Sure,” Nigel said and accepted the drink.  Well, he thought, she has good taste in wine.

“I hope you don’t mind my forwardness, but I spotted you earlier and couldn’t resist the chance to meet you.”

“Oh, well, nice to meet you,” Nigel said.

“My name is Lohna,” she said.  “And you?”

“Nigel,” he replied.

“A pleasure,” she said.  “There are so few elves in this region these days that it’s always refreshing to see a new face.  You’re an archer, aren’t you?”

Nigel was flustered.  How did she know that?  “Uh, yes, I am.  How did you know?”

“The calluses on your fingertips,” she explained.  “I felt them when you took the glass of wine from me.”

“Oh,” he said in genuine surprise.  

“I suspect you’re not from around here,” Lohna said.  “And, therefore, I suspect you have some interesting stories to tell.”

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that,” Nigel said.  “I’m currently from New Selmar, several hundred miles west of here.”

“Really?” she said.  “Is that near Selmar?  I recall that city from before the war.”

“Yeah,” he said.  “It is a few miles away from the ruins of the old city.  The city has been built up by the few of us who survived the war and over a decade of enslavement at the hands of the orcs.”

“Oh my,” she said.  “You must really have some stories to tell.  Perhaps you wouldn’t mind sharing a few of them with me?”

Nigel glanced over at Amblin and Marina and Lohna followed his gaze.  Marina had broken off their kissing to whisper something in Amblin’s ear.  Amblin had a stupid grin on his face as she led him back indoors.

“Looks like your friend is about to get lucky,” Lohna said with a smile.  “There are some private rooms elsewhere in the building.  You might not see him till morning.”

Something about splitting up the group was nagging Nigel in the back of his mind.  On the other hand, he felt he should let Amblin take care of himself for a while.  Besides, Lohna seemed a lot more interesting to him at the moment.  For the next few hours, Nigel shared some of the stories of his home and his adventures on the way from New Selmar to Water Break.  Lohna listened in rapt attention.  They shared a few drinks and a few dances late into the night.

-----

Marina led Amblin back to the balcony overlooking the main throng of the party.  He was drunk and having a great time.  He found himself lost in Marina – her voice, her face, her eyes, her touch, her smell.  She led him down another hall, handed a few coins to a doorman, and led him down yet another hall.  It was dimly lit and there were dozens of other doors lining its length.  She opened one with the key that the doorman had given her.  Inside was a simple bed and nightstand with a basin and pitcher of water.  A low burning candle provided the only illumination.

Ten minutes later, Amblin became a man.  A minute after that, he was fast asleep.

-----

Rurik was found a few minutes after the thugs had fled by the inn’s owner and his son when the stable boy had gathered the courage to go fetch them.  The storm had already broken and Rurik was wet and muddy when he was brought inside and laid on his side upon a table.  The dagger he had wielded was still stuck in his paralysis-clenched fingers.  The owner of the Priest’s Pole was distraught at the condition of the dwarf.  Rurik’s eyes were open and moving, so he was clearly awake.  He was unable to move or speak, though.  They were careful not to aggravate the tiny crossbow bolts stuck in his back.  The inn keep’s son was finally sent to fetch a doctor.

By the time a doctor was found and roused, the paralysis had begun to wear off.  The first thing Rurik was able to do was open his mouth, and he took advantage by unleashing a steady stream of curses.  He told the inn keep of the attack and that he suspected his friend had been hit as well.  The inn keep hadn’t seen his friend, so he went up to their room to check.  He returned a moment later to say that the door appeared to be blocked and there was no response to his knocking.

The doctor gave the dwarf a cursory examination and removed the tiny bolts.  A greasy black residue could still be seen on the tips of the missiles.  Rurik was just starting to stand when a pair of city guard arrived at the call of the inn keep’s son.  Rurik, in his rage, could barely give them a full accounting.  The guard seemed indifferent at best and not terribly interested in hurrying back out into the storm that was now raging in all its fury.

Giving up on finding anyone willing to help find Zalman, he crawled back upstairs.  He was prepared to break his way into their room but was surprised to find that the door pushed open easily.  Zalman’s staff and their treasure chest were sitting on the floor just in front of the door.  No Zalman, he noted, but most of the wizard’s gear was still there and the window was open.  It was a safe guess that the thugs had taken him.  He quickly strapped on his armor, grabbed his axe and shield, and tromped back downstairs.

“You,” he said, pointing to the inn keep.  “Bring the dog up to my room.  There is a chest of coin and some other valuable possessions up there.  I expect you to personally watch over them until I or one of my companions return.  If any of my friends get back first, tell them what happened and that I’m out looking for Zalman.”  He tossed a handful of gold on the table and left, blowing past the guards who were still standing under the eaves in front of the inn, sheltered from the howling wind, rain and lightning.  He had no idea where to go or where to look, so he picked a direction and started off.  Those few folk he passed on the street he questioned mercilessly for any info about men dressed in black, possibly carrying another person.  No one had seen a thing.

-----

Zalman slowly regained consciousness.  He had a splitting headache.  Before even opening his eyes, he could determine a number of things about his situation.  First, he was cold and wet.  Second, he was propped up against a hard stone wall.  Third, his hands were bound in metal cuffs that were chained to the wall behind him.  

He cracked his eyes open a bit and found that it was quite dark.  It was raining hard outside.  Occasional flashes of lightning revealed a small window set high in the wall above him – a window with vertical bars.  The flashes of light also showed him that the room was about ten foot square with a single door leading out.  Interestingly, there was another person in the room, apparently chained up just like him.  The person was small enough to be either a child or a halfling or gnome.  They were slumped forward, unconscious, so it was difficult to discern for certain.

He reconstructed the events that had led to him getting here.  Thugs, poisoned hand crossbows, attempted robbery.  That was about it.  Then a thought occurred to him – Hooty was still out there.  He mentally contacted his familiar, who had been out hunting mice and rats during the whole ordeal.  Telepathically, he tried to recount what had happened and a description of what little he could tell about his cell.  Hooty started flying around the city, looking for buildings with bars.  They both realized that such an approach would take time, so he finally sent Hooty to go try and find his companions.

The other captive started to stir.  Zalman feigned sleep for a moment, keeping his eyes open just a slit to observe.

“What?  Where, where am I?” a high-pitched voice croaked out.  The figure lifted her head and a flash of lightning revealed to Zalman that it was most likely a halfling.  “Ouch.”  She groaned again.  Something about that voice was triggering a strong suspicion in Zalman’s mind.  He studied her face closely as another flash of lightning flickered through the dark room.  It couldn’t be, he thought to himself.

“Hey,” he whispered harshly, “what’s your name?”

She groaned again, seemingly still out of it.  “Oh, Kis…Kisty,” she said.  Zalman’s suspicions were confirmed.  “Who…who are you?”

“It’s me, Zalman,” he replied, still in a whisper, but letting his normal vocal tone come though.

“Zalman?” she said.  “Where are we?  What are you doing here?  What happened?”

“I’m not sure where we are,” he replied.  “Or, for that matter, I’m not sure how either of us got here.”

“I…I don’t remember…I don’t remember anything,” she said.  “No, that’s not right, I just don’t remember anything recent.  I don’t even remember where I last saw you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I’ve been drugged,” she said.  “My mind feels like mud.  How long ago did you last see me?”

“About four or five days,” he replied.

“Where was I?  What was I doing?” 

“You were in High Hill,” he said.  “We had just parted ways.”

“High Hill?” she said, groaning again and shaking her head.  “I don’t recall anything about that.  What the hell happened to me?”

“I don’t know,” Zalman replied, “but I’m all for getting the heck out of here.”  He had been going through his repertoire of spells available without his components or much flexibility in his hands.  It didn’t look good, but he thought he might be able to pull off a distraction.  “Are you feeling well enough to make a getaway if we get a chance?”

She groaned as she flexed her shoulders.  “I think so.”

The chains behind Kisty began to jingle just a bit.  “Hand on a sec,” she whispered.  “I don’t think these restraints are of the best quality.”  Zalman waited patiently, hoping she could indeed get herself free.  It would make any escape much simpler.

Half a minute later, she announced that she was free.  She slowly stood and crept over to Zalman.  “Hey, Zalman,” she said as she leaned over him.  “Thanks for all the help.”  She whipped out a sap from behind her back and thumped him into unconsciousness.  He never even had time to look shocked.

-----

By a couple hours after midnight, the party had thinned out considerably.  Lohna finished her last dance with Nigel and told him that it was time for her to be going.

“Will you be in the city long?” she asked.

“Not quite sure yet,” he replied.  “We have some business to attend to.  I’m not sure what our plans are for after that.”

“Well, I’d love it if you could pay a visit to my home,” she said.  “Your friends are welcome as well.”

“That’d be great,” Nigel said.  “I can’t guarantee anything, but I would love to spend some more time with you.  Where can we find you?”

“I live in Vineyard Pass, a small town just a few hours north of Water Break.”

Nigel gave a slight grimace.  “I suppose we’d have to subject ourselves to that whole interrogation, registration deal again with the Cult?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said.  “They are pretty stringent on that.  Tell you what, I can write up a letter that should help ease your way though the city gates.  It’ll basically say that you’re on official business for me…which won’t be completely untrue.  Let me find something to write with.”

Lohna pinned down one of the servants and was led off through a side door.  A few minutes later, she returned with a piece of parchment rolled up and handed it to Nigel.  “That should help some.”

“Thanks,” he said and tucked it away in his shirt.

“If you can come, just ask around in the village for me and anyone can direct you to my house.”

“Right.  Well, I’ll really try to make it.”

“I look forward to it,” she said as she favored him with a radiant smile.  She offered him her hand, which he dutifully kissed.  With that, she turned and left.

Nigel made one last sweep though the party.  Amblin was still nowhere to be found, so he decided to just head back to the Priest’s Pole and hope that Amblin would find his way back eventually.

The rain had lessened somewhat, but it was still dark, wet, and muddy outside.  The inn was not far away and he made it back without incident.  The inn’s tavern was dark for the night, so he quietly slipped up the stairs to his room.  As he passed Zalman and Rurik’s room, he noted that a light was still on.  He thought about checking in on them, but decided against it.  It was late and he was wet and sleepy.

He lit a candle in his own room and started to peel off his shirt when a knock came at his door.  Expecting one of his friends, he was surprised when he found the inn keep’s son standing in the hall.

“Sir,” the teen said.

“Yeah?” Nigel said.

“Your friend, the dwarf, wanted to pass along a message to you.”  The boy quickly recounted the events of the evening as best he knew them.  By the time he finished telling Nigel that Rurik had gone out searching almost two hours ago, Nigel was already dressed in his leather armor and had bow and swords donned.

Nigel hurried out into the streets and started seeking his friend.  He knew it was dangerous creeping around a city this size in the dead of night, especially alone, but he saw little alternative.  He decided to start looking south, which was fortunate, as he came across Rurik just a short while later.

The dwarf was exhausted and dejected.  His rage had lessened into frustration for he had found no clues as to the wizard’s whereabouts.  Hooty circled around, similarly expressing his concern.  They discussed the matter for a while and finally decided to wait until morning to continue the search.  The city guard might be a bit more cooperative by then and they both desperately needed a bit of rest.  Hopefully, Amblin would be back by then as well to help.

The two returned to the inn and found that the inn keep’s son had fallen asleep in Zalman and Rurik’s room.  They left him there and crashed in Nigel’s room for a couple hours of fitful rest.  Before dawn, they both gave up sleeping and went back on the prowl, pausing only long enough to tell the boy next door what to pass along to Amblin if and when he returned.

-----

Amblin was unsure what time it was when he awoke.  He half expected Marina to have split, possibly even with some of his magic gear, but he was pleasantly surprised to see he was wrong on both accounts.  Marina rolled over and kissed him.  Amblin realized that he had a pounding headache, but managed to return the kiss.  “This must be what a hangover is like,” he thought to himself.  He felt like crap, but Marina took it upon herself to spend a few minutes making him feel much, much better.

When they were finally dressed, Marina gave Amblin a last peck on the cheek.  “Thanks for a wonderful night,” she said.  “Can I see you again tonight?”

“Uh, sure,” he said, eager at the prospect of spending another night with this lovely.

“Where are you staying?” she asked.

Fighting through the haze of his hangover, he managed to recall the name of the inn.  “The Priest’s Pole,” he said.  “Just down the main avenue toward the keep a bit.”

“Yeah, I know the place,” she said.  “I’ll come by there later this evening.”

“Okay.”

She left the room alone.  Amblin finished collecting his clothing and followed a few minutes later.  The room where the party had been was all but deserted.  A couple servants were busy scrubbing the floors, but it was otherwise desolately quiet.  He left the building and walked along the river, whistling to himself and feeling giddy.

-----

Zalman fought his way up through a pounding headache to consciousness.  Again, before opening his eyes, he made an assessment of his situation:  cold and wet.  And something nearby stank horrendously.  He cracked his eyes a bit and found that he was in an alley, draped across a trash heap.  He was also quite naked.  There was daylight above, so he knew it was at least morning.

He rolled over and rats scurried away at the disturbance.  A piece of parchment, rolled and tied shut with a red piece of string, fell off of his chest.  He grabbed it and unrolled it.  It read:  “Thanks for your help, Zalman.  Sorry about the clothes and gear, but I’m sure you’ll understand.  Don’t bother coming after your stuff or me, it’ll just end badly.  Yours, M. Goodbread.”

Zalman instantly descended into the deepest, seething pool of rage in his life.  Who was M. Goodbread?  It was most certainly one of Kisty Goodbread’s relatives.  And he recalled her mentioning that the reason she was avoiding Water Break was due to some “family issues.”  As he began to recall his imprisonment the night before, he began to put some pieces together.  Whoever had been impersonating Kisty had managed to fake forgetfulness, acting as if drugged.  Zalman had unwittingly given Kisty’s whereabouts to them.  Kisty was not Zalman’s favorite person in the world, but she had been fairly trustworthy and had done her best to lead them back to Water Break as promised – apparently at some person risk.

He got up, fighting off a massive headache and countless scratches and bruises.  As he started toward the end of the alley, a side door opened and a man in a leather apron stepped out with a bucket of refuse.  He gave the naked Zalman an inquisitive look.

“You okay there, boy,” the man asked.

“Not really,” Zalman said.  “I seem to have been left here, bereft of my possessions.”

“Uh, tell you what,” the man said.  “I think I’ve got a couple old items lying around that you could wear just to be decent and all.”  He led Zalman into his leatherworking shop and dug out a few old rags of clothing – a shirt and pants.  Zalman thanked him and left the shop, calling Hooty telepathically.

Hooty was ecstatic to hear his master, alive and mostly well.  Zalman gave him a few landmarks he could see from the street and Hooty was able to lead Nigel and Rurik right to him in a matter of minutes.  They were shocked at Zalman’s appearance, but elated to see him okay.  They sensed the fury burning within him, and were careful not to push him the wrong way.  As they hurried back to the inn, each recounted their tales.  Nigel and Rurik agreed that it was likely one of Kisty’s family that had duped Zalman into giving up her location.  Furthermore, they agreed that their friend was likely in grave danger.  When they had parted ways, Kisty told them that she’d stay in High Hill for a week or so.  That had been five days ago.  She wasn’t necessarily going to be gone in time.

Amblin, meanwhile, had just returned to the inn.  He took a peek in the tavern and found it empty.  He trotted upstairs to his room and also found it empty.  Nigel was gone, as was his armor and weapons, but not the rest of his gear.  Odd.  He went next door to check Zalman and Rurik’s room.  The door was locked and he didn’t have the key so he fetched the inn keep.

The inn keep blanched slightly at the sight of Amblin.  As he led the monk up the stairs, he turned and asked, “Have you spoken with any of your friends yet?”

“No,” Amblin said.  “Why?”

“Well, some things happened last night.”  He opened the door and the first thing that greeted Amblin was the sight of his dog’s body, bloody and damp, lying on the floor.  The bottom dropped out on his giddy elation from the previous night’s events.  He got the gist of what had happened from the inn keep and just started heading outside to find his friends when they arrived back at the inn.

They grabbed their cash and Zalman went on a hasty shopping spree to get new clothing and as many spell components as he could find.  In spite of having some of his gear stolen, he had been fortunate to leave his really important items (spellbook and staff) behind in the room.  They returned to the inn, collected the rest of their gear and horses, and paid the inn keep a bit extra for his troubles.

At the south gate, they retrieved those magic items that they had left with the city guard.  The guards gave them some odd looks, partly due to their grim expressions and partly due to the brutally slain dog that Amblin was carrying with him.  When the letter that Lohna had given Nigel was presented, things went much more smoothly than they had the first time they'd passed through the gate.  Before Nigel put the note away, he gave it a quick read.  The signature at the bottom caught his eye - Countess Lohna Goldenoak-Graeble.  Countess?

A short way out of the city, they paused just long enough for Amblin to bury his dog under some trees.  Then, setting a hard pace, they were off for High Hill.  They had to try to get to Kisty before someone else did.



Next session:  The eagerly awaited rematch and a very unexpected explanation.

-Rybaer


----------



## Zalman

*Batdom*

I must compliment Rybaer on the bat fight.  It was unique and inventive.

Yes, yes... I love Water Break.  I will be coming back here some day to find Ms. Goodbread and take her out for a night on the town.


On a more serious note, I am tired of the party splitting up. We did it once before to almost disasterous results.  This time I was almost killed. (yes, I get very irrate when I find out that I was  beaten and rolled into the trash while Amblin was getting lucky)

Why do I hang out with these guys.  Oh yeah, I was told to...  Well, just you wait until I am released from my obligation by the town council...


----------



## Bommer

Our group splits up & someone has a nearly fatal / fatal encounter. Makes life interesting, not long, but interesting.


----------



## Arkham

*Ouch*

That definately sounds like a good way to give PCs a
vendetta.

That is one reason whenever I play a wizard, I make sure
they have Knock under Spell Mastery.


----------



## Rybaer

*Re: Ouch*



			
				Arkham said:
			
		

> *That definately sounds like a good way to give PCs a
> vendetta.*





Yeah, vendetta is about right.  I enjoyed these couple weeks of gaming as it was the first time the players could really settle into some good roleplaying for a while.  The fight with Shadow riled them up a bit more than I had anticipated.  Then Zalman's run in with who they'd later learn to be Kisty's twin sister Misty...  Well, they now have a couple folks that they'd love to meet again, and not for a social call.

One of the two they'd meet again, soon.  And after this next episode, the "this-person-must-die" meter pegged out.  Especially once when they learn some backstory that fills in the gaps.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rurik

Remember when I said I was using a Cap of Disguise to hide the huge holy symbol on my shield?  It was at this time when I decided to drop the act and show everyone who I was.  I went out into the night looking for Zalman in all the glory of a priest of Moradin.  Also, the next morning looking for Amblin, we went into the place where the party was and I was confronted by a dwarf.  This comes into play later.  

I am now sick of this town!  No more will I let their vie for dominance in worship make me hide my faith, god, or power.


----------



## Rybaer

Oh yeah, I forgot about the bit with the dwarf.  Just after Nigel and Rurik found Zalman, they stopped by the site of the party on the way back to their inn in hopes of finding Amblin.  All they found were some folks cleaning the floors.  When the servants were asked about their friend, they were unable to give them any definite answers.  The group started making a mess of the place - an uncharacteristic way for them to vent anger - until one of the staff fetched a dwarf.

He told them that he was the owner and that he didn't appreciate their actions.  He also could tell that a confrontation with them could be ugly, so he tried to play it cool.  He told them that he had no idea if their friend was still on the premises and he had no intention of intruding on all the remaining guests by going door to door.  With that, he asked them to kindly leave.  As they did so, he gave Rurik a pointed stare, particularly at the emblem of Moradin on his shield.  He said nothing, however, and Rurik was in a hurry to follow the others.

Amblin had already left, by this point, and was learning the fate of his dog.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Okay, so I didn't quite get to the rematch part of this post.  Here's what I've got so far...


Session #10.1 – The Incident in High Hill


It was just after noon when the group was finally on the road for High Hill in earnest.  They had to assume that those who had learned of Kisty’s location from Zalman would have moved quickly on her position and likely had at least a six or eight hour head start.  It had been about a casual three day ride the first time they’d taken the road, so they decided to push their horses hard and try to make up as much as possible.  They briefly contemplated taking a more direct route, but that would lead them near or through the troll-infested marshland to the west of Water Break.  Having no familiarity with the land aside from what they’d seen on the road, they chose not to chance it.

The first day they pushed the horses well past dark before finally resting.  There was a steady rain that night, though no thunder.  During Amblin’s watch, a large bear stumbled into their camp.  Amblin, in spite of his blindness in the complete dark, lunged to attack the unknown assailant, relying on his blind-fighting skill.  It turned out he was a bit over-matched as the bear tore him apart badly.  The others awoke soon enough and used a combination of blinding, distracting, and brute offensive tactics to slay the bear.  Rurik healed Amblin while Nigel began his turn on watch, skinning the bear to while away the time.

The next day they pressed on hard again.  It rained on and off and was dreary and humid the rest of the time.  Hooty, flying advanced scout, reported a few sightings of trolls off the road a way, but they posed little risk.  Biting insects were their main concern and annoyance.  That night’s camp was uneventful, though the rain continued unabated.

Morning was heralded by only a slight increase in light.  The storm clouds hung dark and heavy, pouring rain and lightning in abundance upon them.  Judging by their progress, they anticipated reaching High Hill by late afternoon or early evening.  That was before they ran across a flooded gully shortly after beginning the day’s ride.

The gully was relatively narrow, varying between fifteen and twenty feet wide in most spots.  They didn’t think it likely more than three feet deep, either.  However, the sheer volume of rain water had turned it into a raging flash flood.  They knew well enough to not try crossing either on foot or on horse.

Amblin could easily leap the river, and by exchanging his Ring of Jumping, they could almost all make it across – with the possible exception of Rurik.  Zalman even had a couple spells that could get one or two across.  The problem was the horses.  Nothing they had could get them across.  Without their mounts, they would lose hours of precious time in getting back to High Hill and Kisty.  They considered other spell options, including but not limited to ways of tunneling under the river, diverting it, or temporarily damming it.  However, the river was simply too fast and powerful for any solution to easily present itself.

They scouted further upstream, where the river flowed through a more heavily wooded area.  Finally, they found a suitable tree trunk that laid across the river.  The once mighty oak had a trunk diameter nearly of nearly three feet.  If they cleared some of the branches and build make shift steps up to the trunk, Nigel thought they might be able to blindfold and carefully coax the horses across.

Amblin leapt across and started clearing branches with a small hand axe.  The others hastily built steps and blindfolded the horses.  Nigel led the first horse across without incident.  Rurik then crossed, crawling on hands and knees.  Zalman went next, and that was when the problems began.  He badly failed his balance roll, as well as his subsequent roll to activate his staff of immobility in time to catch himself.  The staff froze in place, just to the side of the trunk, but his hands slipped through it and the wizard plunged into the rapids.  Like a shot, he was hurled downstream, popping in and out of the water and completely at the river’s mercy.

Amblin raced downstream, looking for a place from which to try to help fetch Zalman.  Rurik summoned a triton that tried its best to swim after him.  Nigel tried a completely different approach.  Pulling out his bow, he uttered the command word for his quiver to produce a magical rope arrow.  Taking careful aim, he fired at Zalman.  The arrow, followed by a brilliant streak of yellow light, plunked right into his friend and instantly solidified into a rope.  The resultant jerking of the arrow in Zalman’s body as Nigel wrapped the end of the rope around a handy tree was unpleasant at best for the hapless mage.  However, it did stop his progress.  The triton managed to catch up and help lift Zalman to a low-hanging branch just before it unsummoned.  Amblin leapt across the river and helped drag him the rest of the way out.  Zalman was bruised, battered and exhausted.  His new clothes were shredded.  He had been shot with an arrow by his friend.  He decided that he was having a very bad day.  Rurik arrived, pulled the arrow out, and applied a liberal dose of healing.  Zalman retrieved his staff as he very carefully made his way successfully across the river.  Nigel got the remaining horses across the river without incident and they were glad to be gone from the flooded gully.

The rain lessened a bit by afternoon and was a mere sprinkle by evening.  The clouds remained dark, however, and night fell early in the region.  It was around sundown when the group finally reached High Hill’s inn.  A boy was summoned to tend to their horses.  As they entered the inn, Zalman cast a minor spell that dried them all instantly, much to everyone’s relief after days spent soaked to the bone.

The inn was doing a brisk business, with many seeking haven from the foul weather.  They found the inn keep tending the bar and inquired as to rooms for the night.  He told them that they were all taken already.  The weather had holed up several out of town folk for the last couple days and a large group of men had ridden in earlier today.  This raised a couple eyebrows among the group.  Nigel then asked if the inn keep had seen the halfling with whom they had been with when the first stayed at the inn about a week earlier.  

“The girl, you mean?” the inn keep asked.

“Yeah,” Nigel said.

“No,” the inn keep said as he dried a couple mugs.  “Can’t say I’ve seen her since about the time that you guys left town.  I thought she’d gone with you.”

“Oh, I see,” Nigel said, wondering if she had actually stayed around as she said she would.

“Odd you mention her,” the inn keep added.  “That group of guys that rode in earlier today were asking around about a female halfling as well.  Kinda matched the description of that one, I think.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  Don’t know if they ever found her, though.”

“Are these guys still around?” Nigel asked as he and his companions glanced around at the folk populating the tavern.

“Yeah,” the inn keep said.  “They’re actually in the private room round back.  You know, the one you were using last week.  Say, I suppose I could rent you that room tonight if’n you’re interested.  No beds, but I could throw some spare blankets and such in there.  At least it’d be dry.”

The others discussed it briefly and agreed upon a price with the owner.  They then settled at the only vacant table in the room and ordered a large, hot dinner.  Roast meats, hot bread with butter, boiled potatoes and greens.  After three wet days on the road, they savored every bite.

Once dinner was complete, they huddled together around the table to discuss what to do about the “other group” that had come in to town earlier today.  It was safe to assume that they were in some way linked to the M. Goodbread who Zalman had encountered.  It was also safe to assume they were after Kisty, though from the sound of it they probably hadn’t found her yet.  Just to see how they’d react, the group asked a serving girl to send the group in the back room a round of drinks on them.  She obliged and took a large pitcher into the room.  When she came back out a moment later, a surly looking human with dark hair and an unkempt beard peered out the door until he made eye contact with the group.  The group recognized the guy by hoisting their own glasses in his direction.  He didn’t react, but merely sized them up and slowly closed the door behind him.

The group waited for a while and finally decided to just play it cool for now and wait for the others to make a move.  After another trip into the back room, the same serving girl returned to the group’s table and approached Zalman.

“Excuse me, sir?” she said.

“Yes?” Zalman replied.

“The men in the back room wanted me to ask if you were in the market for any magic rings,” she said.

Zalman got a dark look.  When he had been stripped and left naked in the alley, he had lost two magic rings.  “Tell them that I don’t purchase stolen property – particularly when it’s mine.”  The girl suspected that there was some bad blood between the two groups, but agreed to carry the message back.  She went into the room but almost immediately popped back out and went up to the inn keep.

Nigel, with his sharp elvish hearing, could just make out her telling the owner that the men in the back room had disappeared.  The group, having been in the back room before, knew that there were no other doors, just two medium-sized windows.  They decided to just wait them out.


Next session:  The rematch!

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Allow me to elaborate on the mind-set of the group at this point.

First, consider Zalman.  Over the last week of his life, he was nearly skewered by the dark elf known as Shadow, he was shot, paralyzed, kidnapped, robbed, beaten, duped, humiliated, beaten again, left naked in an alley, nearly killed in a flash flood, and shot (intentionally) with an arrow by one of his best friends.  Consider him frazzled.

Second, consider Rurik.  He witnessed two dwarves attempt to rape a human, was nearly killed before being paralyzed while he listened helplessly as his friend was toted away, and had to hide his religious affiliation in a city where he has some unknown divine mission to accomplish.

Third, consider Amblin.  He lost his virginity, only to learn that his best bud (his dog) had been brutally slain while he was _busy_.

You can see how the group was not exactly in the most stable of mindsets.  They were itching for a fight - any one for any reason.  They were feeling bold, cocky, and reckless.

And what about Nigel?  Well, he really hadn't been having too bad a time of things.  He hadn't been injured in the fight with the Shadow's gang.  He hadn't come to any ill fate in Water Break.  In fact, he'd just met a truly wonderful elvish lady who happened to take a fancy to him and was a minor noble to boot.

...of course, that just meant his fortunes had the furthest to fall...

-Rybaer


----------



## Zalman

Gee, Rybaer... If you are going to summarize your own posting you leave nothing for us to talk about.

Yeah, I think life really sucks about now.  I'm wondering why I am doing all this and why (from my point of view) my buddies aren't helping out.  They keep running off and leaving me defenseless.   

Well, that's Zalman's opinion.   I know they are getting their butts whooped too.


----------



## Zalman

I was doing something out of character that I found out was bugging the other guys I was RP-ing with.  I kept saying, "So, I wonder what my next character will be."  After talking to Rybaer tonight I would like to take the opportunity to point this out. 

1.	This is the first time I have been away from the safety of my town.
2.	I am a young, very intelligent, human without much life experience.
3.	I have only been away from home for 1 month and in that time:

I was almost eaten by an Ankheg.
I was almost run down by a Orc Cavalry charge.
I was face to face with a baby green dragon
Sturges and half-fiend Ogres attacked me, knocking me unconscious. (fate point #1)
I was skewered by Undead-Gnoll-Rangers, knocking me unconscious. (fate point #2)
I was beat on by Trolls.
I was almost eaten by a red dragon.
I turned into an Elven female.
A pompous Amethyst half-dragon tested me.
I was almost slain by The Shadow.
I was accosted by unfriendly town guards and made to PAY for my magic items so I could carry them.
I was kidnapped.
I was tricked into betraying a friend.
I was stripped of my clothing and possessions, bruised, battered, and dumped in an alley.
I fell in a rushing torrent of water and mud, almost drowning...
...but LUCKY FOR ME I was shot with an arrow by my FRIEND and stopped.

All of this in ONE MONTH!!!

And it gets worse...

I think that I have the right to complain about me almost dying.  I have come close to dying 15 times in 30 days.  That’s easy math.  I almost die every other day.  This, added to arguing with Amblin and Nigel, is why I consider leaving them.  They think that I am being an unreasonable, whiney sod by complaining.  HAH!  Screw you guys…


----------



## Dyme

Nigel Player Notes:

Rybaer’s been busy while I’ve been….. ummm… procrastinating is probably the best way to put it.

But first… as a group, we players (Amblin’s, Rurik’s, Zalman’s and me) tend to have a habit of laying waste to any town/village/city we come upon that pisses us off. This holds for any city, anywhere, any campaign.

So it was pretty much natural for us players to start thinking about how we were going to come back and just devastate Waterbreak, tell the Duke to get some balls, and paint the town red in the blood of the priests of the Church of the Small.

We had gotten a bit full of ourselves and were not at all happy being interrogated at the gates. There was a scene at the gates of Waterbreak that was quite humorous… we hadn’t gotten our reward yet and were
scrambling around coming up with the fees to bring our magic items into the town. 

In a previous campaign, we players had our characters become _gods_ (all bless Dyme and his power, heehee) and now we have to explain ourselves to some pissant guttersnipes in red robes who think they are the be all and end all. F a bunch of that.  

We still may come back and lay waste to Waterbreak just because…. Well, because we _always_ do dumb stuff like that.

Of course, we’ll smite Waterbreak _after_ we uncover the secret of  Boonzang’s Crystal Edifice Whatever.

In Character Notes:

The Dwarf That Got Away: IIRC, Nigel succeeded a bunch of Hide Silently/Move in Shadows checks to get a place behind the escaped prisoner. Once prisoner got stung from behind by flung sticks, he diverted his attention away from Amblin. Don’t remember who got the killing blow, but Nigel did remove the head from the corpse just to make sure.

After finding out that the head would not be needed as evidence, Nigel buried it outside of Unicorn Valley.

I think Rybaer had it right… we were a little surprised at the attack on Hooty… only because there hadn’t been one yet. Nigel considers Hooty as one of the party as well as companion to Zalman, so while he was distressed at the attack, he wasn’t really surprised in a game context. After all, familiars aren’t exempt from attack. 

Entering Waterbreak: The scrutiny was a pain in the ass, but understandable. We didn’t have to like it tho. Like I said before, us trying to scrounge money for the identification and storage fees was quite humorous.

At the Inquisition... err, I mean… Zone of Truth, I mentioned that I had no offensive spells; the only ones I had prepared were Speak With Animals and Protection From Elements: Fire. I had to burn my Protection spell to prove something to this jackass. Not a happy elf.

At this point in time, Nigel still had the “All For One and One For All” mentality. So, it really wasn’t a big deal to back Amblin up on his challenge… even tho Amblin had been a bit of a prick a few days earlier.

I sympathized with Rurik’s distress about his not being able to openly display his faith; while not devout, Nigel is a follower of Ehlonna.

And somewhere I missed when we stayed at the Drooling Barmaid and the Tattooed Virgin Inns.

Bat Fight/Meet the Duke: The Bat Fight was actually a lot of fun. None of had any idea of what we were doing, and Rybaer made us improvise. Another highlight of the game.

The audience with the Duke went pretty much as Nigel had thought it would. He really had no idea how to address the Duke, and in an effort to not look like a fool, he described the party’s mission in the style of William Shatner doing James Kirk. You… know.  Only… speaking… ONE… word… at… a … time.

And then it all went down hill…


----------



## Rybaer

Session #10.2 – Rematch


The crowd cleared out and the inn keep and staff brought a stack of blankets to the back room for the group’s use and bade them good night.  They locked the windows (one both facing out the side and back of the inn) and then hung a heavy blanket over each.  Rurik cast a Glyph of Warding upon the door, imbuing it with a Hold Person spell.  He had considered using a blast Glyph, but feared for the safety of the inn’s staff should one of them try to use the door.  With the room’s table pushed up against the door and the chairs stacked in a corner, they laid out the remaining blankets and tried to get some rest.  Watches were, of course, set.

The rain continued through the night and thunder and lightning were frequently in the mix.  If the group had expected some sort of problems from the “other” group that had arrived at the inn earlier in the day, they were not disappointed.  About two hours after they had holed up in the room, they were awaked by the sound of breaking glass.  Four flasks of oil with burning wicks had been hurled through the windows – one pair through each.  The presence of the blankets slowed their flight path into the room, causing them to drop to the floor near the windows and break open.  The floor, walls, and hung blankets ignited quickly.

Having expected trouble, everyone was still dressed in armor and had their weapons and gear readily at hand.  The fire was something they hadn’t quite anticipated, though, and several had their clothes set on fire.  Zalman initiated the response by launching a ten foot wide lightning blast into and through the inn’s side wall.  The wall literally exploded outward from the force, showering a pair of thugs with splinters.  

Taking advantage of the moment’s worth of confusion, Nigel leapt out the hole in the wall and engaged a half elf wearing chain and wielding a wicked looking dagger.  Amblin paused for a moment, batting flames out of his clothes.  While Rurik grabbed for his shield and axe, Zalman (whose robes were also burning) leapt through the hole he’d created to get into the rain.  His jump through the hole was not nearly as swift as Nigel’s, however, and he snagged his foot on a jagged piece of lumber.  He landed face first in the mud where another waiting rogue (human) poked him with a rapier.

Rurik finally got his gear together and jumped through the hole, engaging the human that was over the prone Zalman.  Amblin, knowing that there were likely other assailants around the backside of the inn, jumped through the hole in the wall, raced past Zalman and Rurik, and turned around the corner.  He spotted a lone human armed with a longsword standing near the back window.  As he engaged the man in a furious fight, a crossbow bolt thudded in the inn’s wall, missing him by a fraction of an inch.  Making a mental note that there must be another goon out in the dark yard of the inn, he pressed on with his foe.

Nigel found his foe to be moderately skilled.  In spite of only having a dagger to his longsword/shortsword combination, the half elf wasn’t faring too badly.  The half elf nicked Nigel in the arm and the searing pain of acid burned behind the cut.  Nigel returned the favor with a deft slash of his flaming longsword that hissed menacingly as raindrops boiled off it.

Just as Zalman finally regained his feet and was turning his attention to the human who had stabbed him, a fireball erupted.  Targeted squarely between Nigel, Zalman, and Rurik, all three were singed badly by the blast – Nigel only slightly less so.  The rogue Zalman and Rurik were engaging managed to avoid being caught in the blast radius by using Rurik’s wide, armored body as a shield.  Zalman, who had been burned by the Molotov cocktails, stabbed, and torched in the full brunt of a fireball, was in very rough shape.  Unable to see where it had come from, though, he continued to work with Rurik on the rogue at hand by blasting him with a volley of magic missiles.  When a second fireball hit in roughly the same spot, Zalman finally dropped unconscious in the mud.

Amblin was having only modest luck in dealing with the rogue around back.  The rogue was having a tough time hitting the monk, but Amblin had only managed to land a couple ineffectual punches in return.  The crossbow shooter had grazed his shoulder once, but had not yet landed a solid hit.  When the fireballs erupted around the side of the building, Amblin began to worry about how his friends were faring.  As it was, though, he figured he was keeping two of their assailants busy and that was good enough for the moment.  The rogue, in an unexpected move, leapt back from Amblin and quaffed a potion that he’d kept palmed in his left hand.  Amblin had little experience with potions and retaliated with a stunning blow that left the rogue reeling.

Rurik, with a couple well-placed swings of his axe, finally dropped the human with the rapier.  Given his dwarven darkvision, he could make out a burly half orc further back in the yard as the one who was responsible for the fireballs.  The half orc was now readying a large shield and drawing his bastard sword.  Rurik countered with a Hold Person spell that stuck.  He then turned to Zalman and cast a curative spell, returning the wizard to consciousness.

Nigel’s fight with the dagger wielder was turning decidedly in the ranger’s favor.  The half elf, seeing his one companion drop followed by the dwarf healing the wizard, decided it was high time to make a break for it.  He fled from Nigel toward the front of the inn and turned the corner into the darkness.  Nigel pursued and, as he rounded the corner, had no difficulty in spotting the half elf trying to hide deep in the shadows behind a pair of barrels on the front porch of the inn.  The half elf, realizing he’d been spotted, jumped up to flee but was run through with Nigel’s flaming sword.

Amblin’s foe, having taken several hard hits from the monk by now, was starting to look worried.  The crossbow bolts were still coming, though, so he didn’t abandon his fight.  Instead of trying to hit the nimble monk with his sword, he tried to touch Amblin with his bare hand.  Suspecting some sort of magical attack from the potion the man had just quaffed (and rightly so…it was a potion of Ghoul Touch), Amblin merely danced and weaved away from the man’s attacks.

While Zalman regained his senses and peeked around the corner to see what was happening in the back yard, Rurik casually walked up to the held half orc and lopped his head off.  Amblin finally knocked his opponent to the ground and noticed that the crossbow shots abruptly stopped coming.  The monk figured that the shooter had probably fled into the night.

Nigel, having just finished off the half elf, turned to go back to help his friends mop up the rest of the rogues around back.  Quite abruptly, the bitterly cold bite of an enchanted rapier pierced his stomach.  A shortsword stabbed Nigel in his right arm.  Then, as the rapier was pulled back and thrust forward again through his lung, Nigel could see the Shadow materialize from out of invisibility before him, grinning madly.  With blood bubbling up his throat, Nigel collapsed.  (Fate point.)

The Shadow lifted his rapier and prepared to run it through Nigel’s neck, just to make sure the job was complete, when Kisty leapt off the inn’s porch roof and jammed her dagger into his back.  Shadow roared in outrage and turned to face her, rapier and sword flashing in a whirlwind of steel.  Kisty, armed only with a dagger and sensing she was outmatched, focused her complete attention on parrying and dodging his blows.  Hoping that the others had taken care of the rogues by now, she yelled out:  “Help!”

Over the drone of rain and thunder, the others could just make out the halfling’s cry.  Recognizing her voice, though, they raced around toward the front of the building, leaving the fallen bodies and burning corner of the inn behind.  Shadow, meanwhile, had failed to land a single good blow on the nimble halfling and was beginning to worry.  He had fought the others just a week before and had little interest in facing them when outnumbered.  So, he stepped back from Kisty and dropped a sphere of Darkness.  Kisty, not wanting to risk fighting blind, tumbled back out of the dark and right into Amblin.  Rurik and Zalman were close behind.

“Shadow,” she said.  “Dark elf, nasty bugger.”

The others noted that she knew the guy by sight, but didn’t question her for the moment.  “Yeah,” Amblin said.  “We’ve met him.”

“He took down Nigel,” she explained.  “I don’t know if he’s alive still or not.  His body is in the darkness, right up against the inn.  I think that Shadow might have fled the other way.”

Amblin, desperately wanting a piece of Shadow even at great personal risk, went around the darkness and brought his Continual Flame enchanted wristband out to give him a bit of light.  Rurik summoned a pair of celestial lions and instructed them to follow.  Zalman, meanwhile, had pulled Nigel out of the darkness and Rurik paused long enough to determine that Nigel was barely alive but stable.  He left him and joined the pursuit with Kisty and Zalman.

Amblin, having a healthy lead over the others, proved to be too attractive a target to the Shadow.  The dark elf dropped out of invisibility once again and attacked the monk.  Blows were exchanged, but when the celestial lions rounded the corner, followed closely by a pack of dogs that Zalman had summoned (on the assumption that they could pursue the invisible elf by scent), Shadow decided to return to invisibility and flee once more.

The dogs picked up the trail and slowly followed it between a pair of buildings.  Amblin followed, focusing on his sense of hearing to pick up any hints.  Zalman followed from a distance, cautious and waiting for any target to cast a spell upon.  Rurik paused long enough to cast Invisibility Purge – a spell he’d been saving exclusively for his next encounter with the Shadow – and then raced to catch up with the dogs.

The Shadow had been moving cautiously, trying to stay ahead of the dogs without moving so fast as to make noise or reveal himself with splashes in the mud.  In spite of being unusually quick, the Shadow had seen how inhumanly fast Amblin could run and he didn’t want to give the monk a chance to spot him.  When Rurik got close to the summoned animals, however, his Invisibility Purge’s range caught the dark elf and startled him greatly.  Amblin pounced and landed another hard hit.  The lions and dogs, when they finally noticed their quarry, all charged to attack.

The Shadow gave up any pretense of fighting and fled at full speed back around the front of the buildings.  Amblin gave full pursuit.  With some luck and help from a bit of lightning, Amblin spotted the wet boot prints from his quarry along the porch of a neighboring building.  At a full run, he charged, vaulted the closest railing, tackled the dark elf, and bowled him right through the far railing and into the mud.  Amblin, sitting on top of the flustered Shadow, punched again and heard the satisfying crack of ribs breaking.  Sensing victory at hand, Amblin cocked his fist to punch again when the dark elf muttered a word under his breath.

“Tarak,” he said.  The dark elf, wearing the disoriented look of one fighting off unconsciousness, disappeared from underneath Amblin.  He wasn’t just invisible this time, Amblin noted, because the feeling of the body departed as well.  Amblin, frustrated beyond description at losing their enemy when victory was at hand, let out a cry of rage.  The others, along with the horde of summoned animals, arrived but found no trace of the dark elf.

Bitter at losing the Shadow again, they returned to the inn to further heal Nigel and to check on the burning inn.  Rurik’s Glyph spell had been triggered by one of the servants who had gone to investigate the fire.  He was retrieved with only minor smoke inhalation damage.  Within a few short minutes, most of the inn’s staff and guests, as well as many of the town’s folk, had gathered and were working to extinguish the blaze.

The group, meanwhile, gathered up the bodies and scanned their possessions for magical loot (of which they found a modest amount – weapons, rings, cloak, armor).  Kisty identified the thugs by name, recognizing them as members of “The Guild.”  The inn keep was quite upset with the group for the damage to his inn, let along the very fact they had been party to bringing about a fight.  Kisty informed him of the identities of the rogues as well as the fact that they had been working with the Shadow.  The inn keep blanched a bit at that.  He declined to let them stay there for the night, but didn’t press them further for damage compensation when they offered to let him have the remainder of the thugs’ gear.  (They had already removed anything magical.)

“Come on guys,” Kisty said.  “I know a place we can stay tonight.  Besides, I think we have a few matters to discuss.”  They agreed and followed her into the rainy darkness.


Next session:  Kisty's story and the Thunder Guild.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

Of all the fights this group had been involved with, this was probably among the most enjoyable.  It had emotion, changing circumstances, poor environmental conditions, and surprising (if not entirely effective) tactics from the thugs.  Zalman's use of lightning bolt to escape the burning room was a nice start.  Their pursuit of the Shadow, invisible and in the dark, was remarkably effective.  As I revealed to them later, Amblin's last shot had taken him down to a single hit point.  Oh how they've lamented over that last one hit point in the months since the encounter...and how they've drooled over the gear they figure he must be equipped with.

Nigel truly took a beating with that full-attack from invisibility by the Shadow.  He was already down about half his hit points from the fireball and couple minor dagger hits.  Then the Shadow chimes in with three sneak attacks.  Nasty.  I think it was a bit over 40 points in all.  Took the first of Nigel's fate points to keep him alive, though I ruled he was basically sitting at -9 and out of the fight.

As a note, the fireballs were the two remaining charges from a necklace of fireballs that the half-orc rogue was wearing.

After their first encounter with the Shadow, the group was eager to take him out in a rematch.  After this second fight, particularly after almost getting him, they've practically become obsessed about it.  However, this was the last they've seen of him for some time.  (The first two sessions in which they encountered him were played probably around late September or early Oct.)

-Rybaer


----------



## Zalman

I agree with Rybaer that this is probably one of the most memorable encounters we had.  Death on both sides and we almost removed The Shadow from play.  I think that Rybaer intended him to be a short-term menace with no idea how interesting he would be to our group.  Some times villains are well planned and implemented, some times they just happen.  I hope that Rybaer has decided to fold The Shadow in some deeper plot that he may not have originally been in.  If I know him, he has.

Like the post said, I summoned dogs to help track The Shadow down.  I was low on offensive spells and all I had left were a couple of summoning spells.  I think that Rurik only cast a single Celestial lion, but I could be wrong.  Also, a very small thing really, I don’t wear “robes”.  In Rybaer’s post he said that my “robes were on fire.”  I, as a player not as a character, have been very conscientious about not “looking like a wizard.”  With my background, I don’t know what a “wizard” is supposed to look like.  I also don’t want to go around looking like an Arch Mage without being able to have the fire power to back it up.  Any way, small thing, but my robes were not on fire – just the third set of clothes in a matter of 4 days.  Now I have to go shopping again.


----------



## Rybaer

My bad on the robes bit.  I was writing this at 3am this morning.  That should be changed to "the tattered remains of Zalman's new clothing caught fire."

As to Shadow's recurring role...well, that of course remains to be seen.  He does become more intricately tied to some overarcing plot threats, though, as becomes detailed in Kisty's background in the next session.

-Rybaer


----------



## Zalman

I forgot something else.  Since I am keeping a running tally of the number of times I have cheated near or certain death I am going to keep this going.

This marks the 16th occasion where I was about to get killed.  (prone, in front of a rogue, hit by two fireballs...)

Ugh!


----------



## Rybaer

Zalman said:
			
		

> *I forgot something else.  Since I am keeping a running tally of the number of times I have cheated near or certain death I am going to keep this going.
> 
> This marks the 16th occasion where I was about to get killed.  (prone, in front of a rogue, hit by two fireballs...)
> 
> Ugh!   *





And the best one is yet to come!  



-Rybaer


----------



## Zalman

> The best is yet to come




Yeah, my nose still hurts.  Zalman would have left the group after this adventure if we hadn't gotten 6 weeks down-time with the Thunder Guild, a pretty easy couple of encounters, and a nice leisurely trip home.

So, first month away from home: Horrible
Next two months, not bad, almost enjoyable:
The next month, well, let's just say that I will be more careful when I fly.  I also now have an unreasonable fear of Calamari.

I am really glad that Rybaer is able to get these posts up so quickly.  Six or seven more posts and he might have the message board up to date with where we are in the game.  I think the postings will become a little more frequent and with more detail by all involved when we aren't suffering a 6-8 month lag.


----------



## Amblin

*That's alot of stuff*

Ambin here: I've forgotten where I started, but in the end I'm back where I began. So yes Water Brake was a pain. I didn't much care for the first impression. I really did't care for the Bat fight. It is absolutly opposed to my style of fighting. I had little to no control of movement, I don't really hit hard, and I can't take alot of abuse. I like to hit, distract, and get away. Oh well it did play out nicely. I mss my dog, but i did get lucky


----------



## Rurik

*The innkeep*

We were all a bit perturbed at the fact that the innkeep blamed us for this attack too.  After all, we were just trying to warn a friend and get a dry night's sleep and these gus attacked _us_.  Even after he berated us, we still offered to help fix his inn and all he did was throw us out and tell us not to come back.


Humans...


----------



## Amblin

Amblin here again: In truth I no longer have any problems with Water Break. The Cult until
proven to be disreputable is providing safty to a population that desires it. They are happy
living there live's. Nothing wrong with that. I concider all religion to be pretty silly
so if they want just this one dictating their every move, so what. Now the Shadow I don't 
like. This I feel very stongly about. He will die. Zalman's continual whineing about dying,
ah he's a wizard they do that until they kill you. Maybe some day I'll care. Not today.
As for the Kissbreads, this Misty girl may become a problem. We my have to disable her as well. I'm still more interested in setting up trade for New Salmar, and mapping out the land.
For now at least. Later I'll think diffrent.


----------



## Zalman

Woooo Hoooo!!!! 

Alright, I am glad to see that my roleplaying of whiney wizardboy is getting through.  I was getting annoyed with all that "you guys need to watch over me..."  "Hey guys, don't split up..."

blah, blah, blah

Zalman is  a little whiney, though.  20 is his age and intelligence. He can't understand why he is risking his young life.  After all, I think he is the only virgin left in the group.


----------



## Rybaer

*Re: The innkeep*



			
				Rurik said:
			
		

> *We were all a bit perturbed at the fact that the innkeep blamed us for this attack too.  After all, we were just trying to warn a friend and get a dry night's sleep and these gus attacked us.  Even after he berated us, we still offered to help fix his inn and all he did was throw us out and tell us not to come back.
> 
> 
> Humans... *





Don't be too hard on the inn keep.  Remember, the inn is his livelihood.  He was rudely awoken by the sound of lightning blasting apart his inn - from the inside out.  He raced downstairs and smelled smoke.  When he tried to open the door to your room, he was nailed with _your_ Glyph of Warding and Held.  Once that wore off and he got back outside, he found four bodies laying in the mud and the back corner of his inn on fire.  Plus, some halfing (presumably the one the deceased were looking for) was explaining that the dead men are members of the thieves' guild from Water Break and that the Shadow himself was leading them and _escaped_.  So, now he's worried about possible retribution on top of organizing folks to help extinguish the blaze.

Frankly, you were the wrong guys trying to chat with him at the wrong time.

Maybe now, months later, he's recovered a bit.

-Rybaer


----------



## Zalman

> Maybe now, months later, he's recovered a bit.




Uh, yeah... and maybe pigs will fly out Nigel's butt...


----------



## Baron Von Mandrick

*Keep it up!*

I'm sorry if this is cluttering the story board, but I just wanted to say that I love this story hour.

So far I've only read up to page one of entries.  So I have a lot more to go.  Thanks for posting this great story hour.

-Baron Von Mandrick


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## Rurik

Hey Baron,

We appreciate the fact that you like it.  Feel free to comment any time, it makes us feel good to know others are reading.

Anyone who likes this thread and has any comment is welcome to post.  Let us know what you think.


----------



## Tuerny

Hello, wanted to send cudos and all that to Rybaer and all of the players of the game. Good stuff. 
I am primarily focused on the level of interestingness in a world but the adventures themselves are cool too.


----------



## Rybaer

Thanks for the kind words Baron and Tuerny.  I've had fun running the game up to this point and am happy to know that others enjoy reading about it.  Now that the game has matured and the characters developed stronger identities, I feel that it keeps getting better and better.




			
				Tuerny said:
			
		

> *level of interestingness *





I like this quote!    I take it by "interestingness" you mean the eccentric little encounters the players have faced such as the floating jellyfish, fiendish bunnies, URG's (undead gnoll rangers), et cetera.  For players who know most of the stock Monster Manual critters by heart, I find myself using a lot of non-standard creations and/or templates.  Keeps them guessing a bit.

I'm trying hard to get caught up with the current game.  Another month or so and I might make it.  The story is about to reach an extended period with less combat and more back-story role-playing.  I think the lack of blow-by-blow fight descriptions should speed postings along.

-Rybaer


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## Tuerny

sounds cool. 
I can't wait.

How did you record the relevant information for the campaign for the purposes of the logs?

Any specific method?


----------



## Rybaer

Tuerny said:
			
		

> *How did you record the relevant information for the campaign for the purposes of the logs?
> 
> Any specific method? *





I reconstructed the sessions partly from my scribbled notes and mostly just from memory.  Unfortunately, many of my notes were from session prep and I often deviate from plans to accomodate the flow of the game.  For some sessions, I had more detailed "post-session" notes, particularly when Zalman's player was out of town for a month and when Boaz's player took a hiatus.

There are a few missing or incorrect details, but by and large the sessions are fairly accurate.  I encourage the players to chime in with anything they recall that I overlooked.

-Rybaer


----------



## Tuerny

One more question 
Do you have a guide or perhaps more in-depth notes for the world of Aftermath than you are providing here, or is the current material the extent of what you are willing to share?


----------



## Rybaer

Tuerny said:
			
		

> *One more question
> Do you have a guide or perhaps more in-depth notes for the world of Aftermath than you are providing here, or is the current material the extent of what you are willing to share? *





Good question.  I do have an extensive continent map, and I personally know much of the history of the land and powergroups within it.  Some of this is written down, but a lot is just floating around in my head.  For the most part, I keep things very vague and generalized until it becomes more relevant to the players and the game.  It's easier to make up cool new connections this way.

The key part of the premise for Aftermath was that they were all survivors from a war that had ended nearly twenty years earlier.  They had no contact with the outside world during that time of enslavement and, frankly, they didn't know if any of the old cities or governments even still existed.  Water Break, which they've only recently reached, is the first city of any size that they have yet come across.  The group is slowly learning the history of the war and the years since as they go.  It's part of their assignment from the council back in their hometown.  They have learned that the invasion from the North was ultimately repelled by the Southern city-states, but that is about it.  They've spoken of possibly travelling there once their work in the Water Break area is resolved.  (More to come on this shortly...)

I suppose I could post a brief summary of the world, where the players are from, and what and who they know so far.  It'd be useful for newcomers to the story as well as a helpful reminder to the players.

-Rybaer


----------



## Tuerny

It would probably be helpful, even though I know most of it 

Do you happen to use ICQ, AIM, or Yahoo messenger and be interested in discussing your world and perhaps GMing in general.

If you do not wish to post it on these boards I understand. My e-mail address is jessedn@yahoo.com...


----------



## Bommer

I do like reading about what had happened during my time away from the group. I waiting to see what happens next and I see why Zalman thinks the way he does about leaving the group.


----------



## Rybaer

Session #10.3 – Kisty’s story


Kisty led the group across the town square and to the small church adorned with the symbol of Pelor.  The inside consisted of a small chapel, a backroom where the priest lived, and a loft.  At the sound of the front door opening, a middle-aged man wearing a simple tunic and pants entered the chapel from the back door to greet them.

Kisty stepped forward as the others entered the church.  “Father, allow me to introduce Nigel, Zalman, Amblin and Rurik.  These are the guys I told you about earlier.”  The priest nodded his head in acknowledgement, giving them a studious examination.  Each of the group, after all, was soaked, muddy, burned, and/or bloody…not to mention heavily armed and armored.  “This,” Kisty continued, “is Father Jonas, the guy in charge of this church.  He’s also been the man kind enough to put me up for a while.”

“Indeed Kisty has told me a bit of your journeys together,” Jonas said.  “If half of her fantastic tales are true, then you are worthy individuals and are welcome to seek haven here as needed.”

“You honor your god and your faith,” Rurik said.  “Thank you for your kind offer.”

“Honor to you and your god as well, Rurik, son of Moradin,” the priest said.  “I trust the disturbance outside had something to do with you all?”

“You could say that,” Kisty said.  “I think that’ll be the last of the trouble for tonight, though.  And I suspect we’ll be long gone before there is further problem.”  The priest looked relieved to hear that.

“I’m sure Kisty can show you what little accommodations I can provide,” Jonas said.  “I will return to my sleep.  Good night.”  With the others bidding him a good night, he returned to the back room.  Kisty took the others up a ladder to the loft and fetched dry blankets from several old chests that were piled about the small space.  The others shed their wet gear and lit a couple extra candles.

“So,” Zalman began when they’d settled in.  “It seems that you’re acquainted with our friend the Shadow?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “in a manner of speaking.  I must admit, though, that I’m surprised to see you back here so soon…and in conjunction with this band of goons.  Why don’t you start with the story of why you’re here, then I’ll try to fill in the gaps and questions with what I know.”

The group recounted the details of their trip in to Water Break, each adding details to flesh out the full story.  They told her of their run in with the Shadow and his thugs on the roadside.  Then of how Zalman was kidnapped and duped into giving information about Kisty and her whereabouts.

Kisty listened intently and then helped put the pieces of the picture in place.  The girl who had grabbed Zalman was Kisty’s identical twin sister, Misty.  Misty was the current head of the Water Break thieves’ guild.  Kisty had once been a member, but never had the violent or complete lack of ethics that her sister notoriously displayed.  Something happened several months back that had led Kisty to leave both the Guild and Water Break in a hurry.

Kisty told them how one cold night toward the end of winter she had been accosted in a dark alleyway near the Guild’s headquarters.  Though she had difficulty making out who the man was in the dark, she immediately determined from his voice and attitude that it was the Shadow.  The Shadow, a rogue dark elf, had been known to do work for the Guild on occasion, though he was not a member.  He was generally paid to handle jobs outside of the city.  Few had ever seen him and fewer still liked the idea of having a dark elf hanging around.

The Shadow approached her and began telling Kisty that “the job, as requested, had been completed.”  He told her that he had little difficulty in penetrating Mt. Goldforge and acquiring the information her client had requested.  He even mentioned how much he had enjoyed killing an old dwarven librarian in the process.  Kisty explained that during this conversation, she realized that the Shadow had mistaken her for Misty.  Rather than clear up the matter, though, Kisty played along.  She was horrified by what she was hearing from the Shadow and equally disturbed that her sister was getting involved in bigger schemes with a reach well outside the city of Water Break.

The Shadow then withdrew a large book from his sack and handed it to her.  She took it, but could not read the cover in the darkness.  The Shadow mentioned that he would expect payment per the terms agreed upon ahead of time and that he hoped “the client” would be satisfied with the book.  Kisty played along and finally the Shadow left her alone with the book.  Rather than return to the Guild as she’d intended, she snuck off to a private bolt hole where she could peruse the book.  She found that the book was ancient and unreadable.  Some of the script looked dwarven, but that did little good to her.

Kisty looked up at the others, particularly Rurik.  “At that point,” she said, “I made up my mind about a few things.  Misty and I had become very distrusting of one another.  Petty theft from those with more than they need was something I could live with.  Misty had begun to take the Guild into deeper and less scrupulous work.  I also suspected that she was getting involved in larger schemes outside the usual Guild operations.  This encounter sealed it for me.  My own sister had commissioned a dark elf to penetrate what I could only assume was a dwarven stronghold to steal information of some sort for a mysterious client.  And an innocent dwarf was dead as a result.  

“I decided then and there to leave the Guild.  The first thing I would do, to make amends for some of the things I’d done in life and to hopefully undo some of my sister’s acts would be to personally return the book to this Mt. Goldforge.  I checked around with some mapmakers and eventually found Mt. Goldforge – several hundred miles to the west.  Within a day, I had snuck out of the city and began the journey alone and on foot.  Almost two months later, you guys found and rescued me from a band of goblins that I’d accidentally let get the better of me.  I figured I was halfway to my destination by then and, though it pained me to pause in my journey, I agreed to lead you guys back to Water Break.  You'd done me a good turn and I felt obliged to return a favor.  Call it the new Kisty.”

Rurik, who was entranced by this tale, spoke up first.  “Why didn’t you ever tell us about this book?  About your trip?”

“Believe me, Rurik,” Kisty said, “there were several times that I thought very seriously about telling you everything.  Every time, though, I reminded myself that it was my journey alone to get it back there.  Besides, you guys all had your own responsibilities and job to do.”  The dwarf nodded in silent understanding.  He knew what honor meant.

“Do you still have the book?” Rurik asked.

“Yeah.”  Kisty emptied her backpack and then withdrew an unremarkable and rather small bag from the bottom.  From the bag she withdrew a large, leather-bound volume that was clearly too large to have fit in the bag.  (Most everyone in the party was drooling with envy…a Bag of Holding!)  “I haven’t trusted anyone quite enough to try to get it deciphered yet.  There’s a page marked with ribbon.  I suspect that’s where the information that the Shadow had sought is located.”

Rurik and the others gazed at the book in awe.  It was clearly dwarven and ancient beyond description.  An enchantment had been laid upon it to keep it from rotting with age.  Rurik reverently opened the cover and gazed at the title page…and found he could not read it.  It was clearly dwarven lettering, and some of the words were dwarven, but others he simply could not make out.  His best guess was that it was an ancient form of dwarven from which the present form was derived.

Zalman withdrew the magic candle from his sack and lit it.  In it’s light, the words instantly became readable to everyone.  From the cover, they learned that the book was part history and part genealogy of someone by the name of Khalaz Steelmaker.  Rurik vaguely knew the name Steelmaker as one of the oldest and most revered clan names.  It was also one that had died out ages ago.  As the candle had limited time left, they flipped ahead to the marked page and Rurik read aloud:

“…and Khalaz Steelmaker, son of Metamok, servant of House Hubrus, led the dwarves from the ruins of Kladish.  West he led his people, looking back only once upon the magnificent city, the extension of the Empire…and wept tears of sorrow as the first rays of dawn over the Bay of Storms struggled to shine through the smoke.

“Against his every desire, Khalaz Steelmaker had been ordered to quit the city and take as many of the dwarves as he could.  And with that, Lord Mylos Hubrus had given them freedom…an uncertain one.

“In the subsequent years, Khalaz Steelmaker would never learn whether the invaders had seized the Adonix or not…for when he and his sons returned two and ten years later the city was nowhere to be found.  Confident in the magic of the Tauren Empire, he left, never to return.”

Rurik scanned a bit further, reading how Khalaz Steelmaker went on to become the first king of Mt. Druvars (a place he’d never even heard of before).  Finally, to spare the candle, he closed the book.  “We must return this book to the dwarves,” Rurik finally said.

“I will see that it gets back to Mt. Goldforge, Rurik,” Kisty spoke up.  “If you wish to journey there with me, I’ll gladly accept your company.  For now, though, this is my burden to bear.”

Rurik was torn, but found that he trusted Kisty and her commitment to seeing this through.  “Very well,” he said.  “I would like to make the trip with you, but I agree the book should stay in your hands.  You’re slippery enough that I think it should be fairly safe there.  I will make the trip with you, whether the others are willing to go or not.” 

Kisty was about to return the book to her sack but Rurik begged her to leave it out so that he might further study it for a while.  Meanwhile, the group continued to piece together their stories and decide what to do next.

Kisty first wanted to know how Misty had even learned about their ties to her.  By recounting exactly who had said what, when, and to whom, they finally concluded that the only time they’d mentioned Kisty’s name was when they were telling the Duke the tale of their journey in his audience chamber.  Kisty sighed and explained that Misty no doubt had the ear of at least a couple minor members of the court as well as a few servants.  When Misty learned of Kisty’s duplicity, no doubt a massive hunt for Kisty’s whereabouts had been launched.  It was for this reason that Kisty was reluctant to go near the city of Water Break again and had refused to take them any further than High Hill.  

Once Misty learned that some of Kisty’s companions were in town, she moved quickly to find and apprehend them.  Using her famous guile, Misty had tricked Zalman into giving up Kisty’s location.  Shadow and about half a dozen thugs were then dispatched to find her in High Hill.  They had arrived in the late afternoon today.  Kisty, however, had kept a very low profile since the others left, knowing just how much danger she might be in even this far from the city proper.  Hiding in the loft of a church had done the trick in keeping her out of view, but she had spied the thugs poking around and asking questions.

That night, Kisty had been brave enough to use the cover of darkness and rain to do some reconnoitering and gather the supplies she’d need to flee town.  While out, she spotted the Guild thugs sneaking around the inn.  She slipped up onto the roof to observe.  It wasn’t until the fighting broke out that she learned it was her former companions who were the target of the attack.  This sent an immediate warning signal to Kisty, but she chose to watch further before intervening.  Aside from the fireballs, they seemed to be handling the thugs fairly well anyway.  It was just after Nigel had hunted down the one who had fled that Shadow made his appearance.  This, Kisty figured, was what her sixth sense had been warning her about.  When she saw the Shadow run Nigel through, she pounced from the roof and engaged him recklessly, calling for help.

Now that everyone had a better idea of what was going on, they had to establish priorities and a plan of action.  Water Break, everyone agreed, was now a very dangerous place for all of them to be – Kisty in particular.  The others could probably go there if they were careful and only stayed briefly.  Misty already had the information she wanted from them and probably didn’t have the resources to bother attacking the group when fully armed and prepared.

The group all agreed that taking the book back to the dwarves was a good idea.  However, it was a very long trip there and they still had several items to resolve in the Water Break area first.  Kisty was willing to wait on them for a little while, but not forever and not if she was placed in jeopardy.  Items on the group’s agenda included:  a visit to the mage guild (they learned while in Water Break that all the wizards had left the city after the cult established all the new magic restrictions and had formed a new guild somewhere to the west of the city), a visit with the master of the Green Snake School, a visit with Lohna, and most importantly they still had to make some sort of trade contacts for New Selmar.

Kisty had a vague idea where the mage’s new guild was – about a day and a half journey to the northeast as long as they didn’t mind going cross country and skirting around the troll-infested marshlands.  They decided to go there first.  Zalman needed some new spell components and downtime to study and the group had a pile of magic items desperately in need of identification.  Once there, they’d make plans for how to handle their other objectives before leaving for Mt. Goldforge.

They slept the rest of the night, setting watches, as they were still worried about the Shadow’s presence in the area.  In the morning, they gathered up provisions and travel gear needed to replace that lost in the fire (most notably yet another new set of clothes for Zalman).  Zalman also spent some time looking for a new dog for Amblin, feeling it would be a nice gesture for his friend’s loss and partly to make up for the bitterness that there had been off and on between the two of them.  He found a man willing to part with a couple-month old pup that promised to grow into a rather large dog one day.  Amblin was ecstatic over the gift.

They set out by mid-morning, taking the road the Water Break for several miles before striking north for the trip cross country.  Nigel was careful to obscure their tracks and Hooty was responsible for spotting any giants, trolls, or other undesirables before they got too close.  For the first time in days it was sunny, warm, and pleasant.


Next session - The trolls of the marsh and the wizards of the Thunder Guild.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

A brief summary of Aftermath – the setting, where the characters have gone and where things stand now…


The Aftermath game is set on a home-brew world.  The land or continent upon which they live is known as Myrial.  The pantheon is largely based upon the standard provided in the PHB, though the players are starting to learn that it’s a bit bigger than that.  The world is fairly magic-heavy, and the abundance of magic items and treasure can largely be attributed to the war and the toll it took on the population of Myrial.

The war, known by many names but most commonly as the War of the Black Hand, is the most influential event in the recent history of Myrial.  Beginning a bit over two decades prior to the beginning of the game, the five wizards known collectively as the Black Hand united vast armies of evil humanoids (goblins, orcs, ogres, trolls, giants, and others) in the Northlands and invaded the more civilized lands in the central and southern parts of the continent.  No one knows why the war started or what its objectives really were.  For the evil races involved in the war, killing and plunder were probably sufficient reasons to invade.  For the wizards of the Black Hand, though, such simple motives were unlikely.  Some have surmised that it might have been merely a revenge move for their banishment to the Northlands due to questionable practices while they were students at the mage academy at Sancross together.  Those who knew them, though, fear that their motives were probably much more grand and devious.  The war lasted nearly five years until the combined armies of the southern city-states finally repelled them.  At about this time, the wizards of the Black Hand disappeared.  Rumors of one or more of their deaths have floated about but are unsubstantiated.  Some worry about where they might have gone and what they might be up to, but most have put them out of mind now…some twenty years after the war.

The players hail from New Selmar, a town built near the ruins of Selmar in the center of the continent.  They were refugees and former slaves to a large band of orcs who had ruled over the region after the war.  As local tribes of the evil humanoids fought with and weakened one another, the slaves were able to revolt and reclaim some of their lands.  They still struggle against the wild lands and orc tribes, but are slowly returning to normalcy.  New Selmar has finally grown to the point where they can afford to send out parties to seek other cities and learn what happened during and after the war.  Our heroes represent the first of these groups. 

New Selmar borders between a vast grassland and a region of gentle rolling hills dotted with small forests.  Its winters are harsh but summers are pleasant and well suited to growing crops.  To the north and south are vast forests.  To the east, grassy hill lands.  To the west, flat grasslands that eventually lead to a small mountain range.

Our heroes from New Selmar began as a group of five:  Amblin the human monk, Nigel the elvish ranger, Boaz the half-orc fighter, Rurik the dwarven cleric, and Zalman the human conjurer.  They were urged to seek other cities and establish trade contacts with them.  Additionally, information of the war and after effects as well as knowledge on any other topics were to be sought out.

Their journeys took them first in search of the gnomish wizard Shadykin who had operated a school a little over a hundred miles from Selmar prior to the war.  Along the way, they met Kisty Goodbread who hailed from Water Break, a port city of some 20,000 people about six weeks journey to the east.  To repay their rescue of her from goblins, she agreed to lead them back to her hometown.

They found Shadykin’s school mostly abandoned.  Eventually, they rescued Shadykin from a stasis bubble that was conjured by one Gils Dralon, a member of the Black Hand, in a mage duel during the early part of the war.  To Shadykin, the passage of the last twenty years had passed in the blink of an eye.  The group rescued a very small nearby village from a group of URGs (undead ranger gnolls) and brought them back to Shadykin’s school where they helped to rebuild the facility in return for his protection.  Boaz died during the battle with the URGs.

From here, the group ventured another week east to a small elvish village.  Here they ventured into a small dwarven mine now inhabited by kobolds in search of a cure from an artifact that transforms bodies.  The cure and culprit turned out to be a half amethyst dragon, half elf named Thrindlemond who had a keen hobby in studying prophecy.  He told them that they were believed by (a secret organization) to be a part of a prophecy that also involved the Black Hand.  While he didn’t tell them everything, he did teleport them off to High Hill, just a couple days away from Water Break, where they could meet a man who would tell them more of this prophecy.

The man, Brother Sal, told them of the Prophecy of the Half Moon and how it named two groups of five individuals and how their actions would unfold in an epic struggle.  Or something like that.  He read the prophecy to them and explained how it was so vague and difficult to interpret.  He explained that his organization was looking for those others mentioned in the prophecy, but that there were lots of groups that fit the profile and they were just one of many.  More or less, he encouraged them not to worry about it and they, more or less, agreed.

From here, the group split with Kisty and traveled to Water Break.  Here, Zalman was duped by Kisty’s twin sister and head of the Thieves’ Guild into giving up Kisty’s location.  This brings us up to the last session’s notes above…



The session notes include about 80% of the game as played thus far.  The cast, at this point, is approximately:  Amblin (monk 6-7), Nigel (ranger 6, arcane archer 1), Rurik (cleric 7) and Zalman (wiz 6). 


-Rybaer


----------



## Rybaer

One little bit I should add to the session posted above.

After the group read the text from the dwarven book, they debated the relevance of the content.  Apparently, someone had been looking for specific information, and it was the Thieves' Guild that had eventually gotten the job done.  Of the information on the marked page, two bits jumped out at them.  First, the reference to a city called Kladish, apparently on a coast.  Second, the reference to the "Adonix."  They had no idea what this "Adonix" was, but it seemed important based on the context of the entry.  Was someone looking for the ruins and/or "Adonix"?  If so, who would be looking for it and why?

Ultimately, they decided that in returning the book to the dwarves at Mt. Goldforge, they'd have the best chance at getting some useful answers.

-Rybaer


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## Tuerny

Oooooh. Sounds good.

I have one question..
Is Kisty a PC or not?


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## Rybaer

Tuerny said:
			
		

> *I have one question..
> Is Kisty a PC or not? *





No, though she has been travelling with them so long that they almost feel like she's part of the group.  Funny you should ask, too, because in the next session her role in the group comes to a head.

The character of Kisty was brought in largely to fill a serious deficit in the group's roguish skills for their foray into Shadykin's school and subsequent Golden Dome.  As a bonus, she brought some storyline development potential and tipped the group off as to which direction to go in their search for a large city.

While I originally intended her to have a sharp wit and abrasive personality, I eventually had to tone this back to avoid overplaying the PC's.  Kisty rejoins the group here for a while, but will eventually depart to the background again.

-Rybaer


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## Amblin

*Autobio*

This is an autobio of my self as I see it. The Gods (ie DM) may disagree, but that is as Gods are. 

	Amblin Aimless is the name given to me by Master, Chelish who was given custody of a small human child about 8 or 9 years old. Mainly because the town council didn't know what else to do with the boy. Having been a slave from birth I was dreadfully malnurished, absolutly under educated, and broken spritually. Or another way to look at it, perfect to become a monks houseboy. Were better to start on the path to enlightenment then from an empty house. Chelish, being wise beyond his years, even for a half elf, named me for the life I was born to live. A walker of worlds, forever wondering, insearch of that which is only found at the end of a journey without end. So I cleaned, and I fixed, and I cooked, and I cleaned some more. Slowly taught everything without anything told. To ask the right question you must already know the answer, for the answer is defined by the asker. And then I cleaned some more. In the end I am still unremarkable in appearance, brown hair, brown eyes, but I'm awake. More then I can say for most beings. I know the answer. I know were the question lies. I am Aimless.


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## Zalman

After hearing Kisty's story I felt like Iwas being pulled in several directions.  I could follow my friend Rurik to Mt. Goldforge to return an ancient book.  I wanted to take care of the Shadow and Misty.  (I felt this would be worth a little more time in Waterbreak because I wanted to see who Kisty's "client" is that wants the book.)  I _really_ wanted to go to the mage guild.  So far in my life I knew of a few spell hurlers in my home town, Sangelis my teacher, and Shadykin.  I want to spend more time on Boonzang's Edifice.  I still hadn't set up any trade routes for the town.

What to do?


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## Rybaer

Zalman said:
			
		

> *After hearing Kisty's story I felt like Iwas being pulled in several directions.  I could follow my friend Rurik to Mt. Goldforge to return an ancient book.  I wanted to take care of the Shadow and Misty.  (I felt this would be worth a little more time in Waterbreak because I wanted to see who Kisty's "client" is that wants the book.)  I really wanted to go to the mage guild.  So far in my life I knew of a few spell hurlers in my home town, Sangelis my teacher, and Shadykin.  I want to spend more time on Boonzang's Edifice.  I still hadn't set up any trade routes for the town.
> 
> What to do? *





So, what you're trying to say is that you didn't feel like lemmings following the clear-cut path to the next adventure?  Hehe.  I was having a lot of fun at this point in the game.  I wrote a list of the open ended threads that you guys could pursue and it numbered something like 15-20.  As I recall, a lot of time was spent discussing just what should be done next and in what order because of concerns about how actions in one direction could impact other issues.

Of course, even now, 4-5 months of gaming later, several of these issues are still open for you guys to pursue...

-Rybaer


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## Zalman

Yeah, you did a good job giving many options.  I thought maybe a few too many, but it was fine.

I've kinda taken your advice and applied it to the game I am running.  While I only have a rough outline of a larger story I'm working on some of the details for the world you are living in.  Basically, you can go where you want, do what you want and something may - or may not - happen.  For example, if you all want to go home, that's fine.  I can role-play the day in, day out routine of an inn keeper's daughter, a tanner's son and a blacksmith's son all night - you'll get bored and so will I.  If you decide that life is too boring at home and you want to have some "adventures" well, I can accomodate that, too.  I have the names of surrounding towns, cities, mayors, bandits, trade problems, ghosts, harpers, dracolichs...  Feel free to stumble around.


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## Rurik

*Dracolichs!?* 

Wellll...I'd rather think about tis game right now then....

With the unveiling of the Dwarven text, I found myself in a bit of a predicament.  I knew we had much to do here, but felt a very strong responsabilty to see this book safely to its rightful place.  I knew I would be testing my friend's loyalty by saying I would go to Mt. Goldforge.  The jorney would be long indeed.  

But I also felt I couldn't abandon my friends...including Kisty.

After weighing my options, I decided that priority was to see the book back in the hands of Dwarves.  All the other stuff would still be here when we got back.

Little did I know...


----------



## Amblin

*where to go?*

Amblin on. to me it doesn't matter where you go. It's where you get that's fun.


----------



## Rybaer

Session #10.4 – Associate membership


After the previous night’s ordeal at the inn, the group was happy to be back on the road.  Even the thought of facing down some hungry trolls or hill giants wasn’t too daunting.  Hooty, however, was providing extensive air reconnaissance and helped them avoid two potential confrontations as they neared the marshlands.

At night, Zalman summoned up a Leomund’s Secure Shelter, a new spell he had finally figured out.  The group was impressed with it and looked forward to the improved security it would offer them.  It wouldn’t be long before it was put to the test, either.

Shortly after midnight, Nigel was making a wide circuit around the shelter, moving quietly and stealthily.  His sharp elven vision revealed a couple of figures quietly approaching the shelter by a route that would pass not too far from his location.  He decided to hold position where he was hiding behind some tall grass.  As they closed, he realized that it was a pair of trolls.  He decided to try shooting one of them with his bow.  He knew that with their regenerative ability, it wouldn’t hurt them for long, but the noise of his bow might get Hooty’s attention and, ultimately, the rest of the group’s.

As he drew his arrow, he uttered the command word to his quiver that would imbue the arrow with explosive fire.  It flew straight and true, exploding on the closest troll’s shoulder.  The monster howled in surprise and rage and the pair turned on the elf.  Nigel had hoped that his position would afford him enough cover to remain hidden, but he failed to account for their exceptional dark vision.  Both spotted him and charged.

To this point in Nigel’s adventuring career, he had rarely been forced into melee combat.  That changed very quickly.  One troll was able to reach him and slashed its claws across his chest.  Nigel dropped his bow and withdrew his longsword, its flame igniting, and struck back with an ineffectual blow.  The second troll arrived and Nigel narrowly ducked its swing.  By this time, he was yelled loudly for backup.

The injured troll hit Nigel with both claws and then rent a gaping wound in the elf’s chest.  Various words went through Nigel’s mind at this point such as “Uh oh,” “Ouch,” “I’m going to die,” “I’m really screwed,” and “Wow, was that stupid.”  Nigel decided that fleeing at top speed was the only option he really had left.  Standing toe to toe with this pair was a quick ticket to the afterlife.  As he fled, the second troll took another chunk out of his leg.

Both the shouting of Nigel and the hooting of Hooty quickly roused the others.  Amblin leapt through the window and Zalman and Rurik headed for the door.  Working more or less in unison, they tried to pull the trolls off Nigel with a combination of spells (fireball), tanglefoot bags, and straight up attacks.  For the most part, it worked, and Nigel was able to limp back to the shelter where Zalman was encouraging everyone to regroup.  Amblin used his spring attack to pepper the more injured of the two with light hits during the withdrawal.  

When they reached the entrance to the shelter, they thrust Nigel forward into it.  The first thing he saw was Kisty kneeling over a blanket on the floor, soaking it in lantern oil.  Outside, Zalman nailed the injured troll with another fireball and it finally dropped.  (He had prepared an extra fireball with the foreknowledge that they would be traveling through troll-country.)  Amblin tactically dropped another tanglefoot bag on the other troll and managed to get it pinned down.  Rurik was tempted to close in to hit it, but the troll’s lengthy arms discouraged him.  Then Kisty called Amblin over to the window where she handed him the blanket.  Understanding what she’d done by the smell, he tossed it over the stuck troll and they ignited it, burning him to a crisp.  

Rurik healed Nigel and then told him that he was done with watch for the night.  Everyone was a bit wound up from the encounter, but managed to eventually fall back asleep.  The rest of the night passed quietly.

The next day was hot and humid, but otherwise passed quietly.  Shortly before nightfall, the group reached a road running east west.  Kisty surmised that this was the road that linked Water Break with a couple of towns out to the west of the city.  The mage’s guild, if she was correct, had been established near the town at the west end of the road.  Heading west, they soon reached the town of Marshfield, literally the end of the road.  It was a small affair with a few citizens going about their business in the last bit of daylight.  Not knowing for certain where the mage’s guild was, and being in the mood for a hearty and hot meal, they made for the small tavern and inn.

The Frolicking Cockatrice, as the establishment was called, would soon become one of the group’s favorite places to visit in all of their travels.  The proprietor, a halfling by the name of Happy Eddibole, greeted them from the porch in a gregarious and welcoming manner.  Everyone instantly took a liking to his exuberance and happily followed him to the delicious smells of dinner cooking inside.  Happy was the definition of “service with a smile.”  They were treated to what Happy called the Blue Plate Special (attributed to the blue-tinted earthenware upon which it was served).  About once a week, he would prepare a special dish using otherwise exotic spices purchased from merchants in Water Break, and then it would be served as the Blue Plate Special.  He was apparently renowned far and wide for it.  The menu this evening included a succulently seasoned rack of lamb, greens, and butter-soaked potatoes as well as warm bread, cheese, and fresh-picked blackberries that were just coming into season.

After gorging themselves on a truly fantastic dining experience, Happy then introduced them to one more new item – coffee.  Zalman and Amblin took an instant and fanatical liking to the strange drink.  The others were a little less exuberant.  Happy told them that he got it from a Water Break merchant who, in turn, got regular shipments of the bean from somewhere in the far south of Myrial.  Zalman asked if Happy would be willing to sell some of his stock.  Happy had to turn him down due to the dwindling nature of his own stock, but he did give Zalman the name of the merchant who sold it should he ever be in Water Break.  Zalman, for the meantime, would settle on using Prestidigitation to make ordinary hot water taste like coffee.

When asked about the mages’ guild, Happy told them that the mages had purchased and renovated an old estate a couple miles north of town.  The village was on good terms with the mages as they provided mutual services for one another – the village provided basic supplies and labor and the mages reciprocated with basic magics and plenty of fireballs to deter the local troll population.  The group decided to get rooms for the night and pay a call to the mages in the morning.

The night was comfortable and uneventful.  Happy had breakfast ready by the time they were awake and refreshed – bacon, eggs, potatoes, bread and more coffee.  Once fed and packed up, they said their farewells to Happy and told him they wholeheartedly looked forward to stopping by again.

A poor dirt road led north of town, past a number of farms and eventually to the estate of which Happy had spoken.  The complex had several buildings (manor, guest house, barn, smithy, etc.) as well as gardens and trees all surrounded by an eight-foot tall stone wall.  There were fields planted in corn and vegetables as well as fruit orchards all around the estate and several folks could be seen working them.  The gate in the wall was open and welcoming.

As they entered the grounds, a groundskeeper approached and welcomed them.  They told him they were interested in meeting with the mages.  The gardener was happy to take them to the main building of the estate where he offered them a seat on the porch while he went inside to fetch someone.  He returned a minute later with a half elf male of indeterminate middle age dressed in fine robes of green linen.

“Welcome,” the half elf said as the groundskeeper returned to his work.  “My name is Jamus Tobus and I am the head of the Thunder Guild.”

The group let Zalman take the lead here.  “I’m Zalman of New Selmar,” he began, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Jamus.  “These are my companions:  Nigel, Amblin, Rurik, and Kisty.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintances,” Jamus said.  “What brings you to our home?”

Zalman explained that they had multiple purposes.  First, he was in need of a few spell components.  Second, as a wizard himself, he was interested in possibly engaging in an exchange of spells with them.  Third, he was seeking knowledge of any sort as part of his orders from the council back in New Selmar.  Finally, they had a collection of magic items that they needed identified – something he could not do because of his lack of study in the area of Divination magic.

After a bit of friendly chatting and exchanging backgrounds, Jamus gave Zalman the scoop.  The guild did not generally share spells with non-members.  They would sell him spell components and identify their items, for a price.  They also were willing to buy and sell some magic items, within limits of availability and need.  Now, if Zalman were interested in joining the guild, either as a full or associate member, he and his group would be entitled to open spell exchange, free identification of their items, and more favorable exchange rates on magic items and components.  Zalman was hesitant to join for fear of obligations, but Jamus explained that associate membership had a very limited fee and minimal obligations.  Oh, and Zalman would have to participate in a mage duel.

The concept of a mage duel was one that Zalman was familiar with, but had never participated in.  Jamus explained how the mages of the guild would frequently use duels as a means by which to hone their spellcasting skills and strategies.  He detailed the means by which a non-lethal matrix could be established that would regulate spells in a safe manner.  Contestants were frequently knocked unconscious, but rarely suffered actual injury.  (DM note:  I used the mage duel rules provided in the Magic of Faerun sourcebook.)  Finally, Zalman agreed to the terms.

Jamus told Zalman that most dueling was done in the morning and, in fact, it was getting close to dueling time.  He quizzed Zalman on his spellcasting skills to gauge which of the guild’s members would most equally match up against him.  He finally settled on running a four-way free-for-all with three of the school’s other mages:  Tilomba Topaz, a dwarven transmuter; Brittae Vaux, a half-elf conjurer/incantatrix; and Meepo Draconis, a kobold sorcerer.

The duel was fought in an open rectangular field.  The entire guild turned out for the event, eager to see what the newcomer had to offer.  Each began in a corner, facing away from the competition, and was given a few moments after the beginning signal to cast a personal spell before engaging the others.

(DM note:  Each of the other players got to run the three other mages in the duel.  The characters were pre-generated by me and each was given a suitable spell selection and couple magic items.  While Zalman’s player pointed out that he did not have an opportunity to customize his spell selection list for dueling, he was also the only 7th level caster…all the others were 6th level and limited to 3rd and lower level spells.  The duel was long and had many interesting turns and twists, too many to recall accurately enough to provide a blow-by-blow account.  So, I will have to merely sum up the general flow of the duel.)

The duel began with Toloma nailing Meepo with a blindness spell.  It stuck, blinding the kobold for the entire duel, as he had no means of undoing it.  Meepo countered his handicap by unstoppering his Eversmoking Bottle, quickly obscuring his corner of the field.  Brittae fired a Melf’s Acid Arrow, summoned a (wolf?) that was set after Meepo in the smoke, and then went defensive as the smokeline approached.  Toloma then went airborne with a Fly spell and cast Mirror Image.  Frankly, I forgot what Zalman did in the first couple rounds.  After that, his primary threat became the incoming mirror images of the flying Toloma.  He blasted most of the images away with an Electricity Ball (substitute element Fireball) and then tried to pin her down, unsuccessfully, with a Web.  Toloma then knocked Zalman out-of-bounds by bullrushing him while flying, thus eliminating the first player.  In the meantime, Meepo and Brittae were playing cat and mouse in the smoke.  Summoned critters and glue patches abounded.  Meepo, relying on his sense of sound, hit Brittae with a lightning bolt.  (My memory gets real foggy from here…)  I know that Brittae was the next knocked out, I believe by a combination of Meepo’s lucky hits and Toloma finishing her off once she was clear of the smoke courtesy of a Gust of Wind.  Brittae managed to summon a giant bat to find Toloma, but it failed to mount a serious challenge to the dwarf.  Toloma, flying above the expanding smoke, finally found the epicenter and dove into it, feeling around for the bottle.  Meepo, still using his hearing, launched another lightning bolt her direction.  She finally found the bottle and hurled it out of bounds.  As the smoke cleared, she began to pick off the exposed Meepo from the air.  Meepo managed to hit her with one last lightning bolt, but finally ran out of useful spells that he could cast without using his sight to target.  Toloma emerged victorious.

The guild members congratulated everyone on a good duel.  A few pointed out to Zalman his tactical error in standing too close to the edge, but they all looked forward to having a new face to try mixing it up with in the future.  The group was introduced to the rest of the guild members (about 8 in all) as well as the half dozen apprentices.  Jamus split up the group’s unidentified items among the apprentices for identification and the group were then shown to private rooms they were welcome to use while they stayed there.

For the better part of the next five weeks, the group stayed at the Thunder Guild estate.  They made some trades and purchases of magic items from the guild’s stores, unloading some useless items and picking up a couple handy ones in return.  Rurik commissioned one guild wizard to add a keen-edge enchantment to his dwarven axe.  Zalman buried himself in studies, copying several new spells into his books and then crafting some Goggles of Dark Vision.  Rurik busied himself by lending a hand at the forge.  Amblin spent a good portion of his time training his dog how to be a good guard dog and giving free lessons in unarmed fighting techniques to a few of the estate’s staff.  Nigel mostly just puttered around and occasionally dropped in on Amblin’s lessons.  All of them made frequent trips down to Happy’s for the good food and good company.

Kisty, for the most part, was restless and on edge.  She spent a good bit of time in town looking for signs that the Thieves’ Guild had tracked them down.  After about two weeks of waiting around, she abruptly disappeared.  For over a week, no one saw or heard a word from her.  Rurik was fuming, fearing that she had departed with the book and without him.  The others were at least irked at her unexplained absence.  

Just over a week later, Kisty returned, strolling up casually to watch the mornings round of mage duels.  Nigel, the least concerned of the group about her absence, was the only one present at her return.  He asked where she had gone off to and she explained that she had a few chores to attend to and had popped off to Water Break for a few days.

Nigel knew this hadn’t been a wise thing for Kisty to do.  He wasn’t too upset about it himself, but he knew that Rurik and Zalman might be a bit more peeved.  He told Kisty as much but she seemed rather indifferent.

Eventually, Kisty ran into the others.  In response to Rurik’s displeasure, she casually informed him that, in her absence, she had carefully stashed the book in the bottom of Rurik’s own backpack for safekeeping against the possibility that she might not return.  This quickly lessened the dwarf’s anger and, while still not happy about the way she had handled things, he was back on good terms with her.

Zalman and Kisty, however, who had had a bit of a falling out, had yet another argument.  Zalman had been on a big party unity kick due their continued failures when split up.  That she had split off without explanation, and to Water Break no less, was very much against the spirit of staying together.  Kisty retorted with a sermon on how she was not actually a member of “their” group.  She was, in fact, allowing them to journey with her on her self-appointed mission solely because she had come to respect their courage and abilities and, in some cases, enjoyed their company.  Zalman had little comeback for that, seeing some truth in her words that he hadn’t really admitted to himself before.  They separated and remained coolly silent to one another for the better part of the last two weeks spent at the Thunder Guild estate.


Next session:  Return to Water Break, a trade offer is made, and Amblin learns what school he was trained under.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rurik

*peace at last*

 

These five(ish) weeks spent at the Thunder Guild were the only rest and relaxation we had gotten in some time, probably since we left New Selmar.  We were all able to take a deep breath and delve into some projects we enjoyed.  I worked at the forge to help pull my weight and to clean the rust off my weaponsmithing skills.  I helped repair and replace weapons and other items frequently used on a large estate.  Zalmon got to research new spells and create a few items.  Amblin took the time to meditate and to teach some of his skills to the locals.  Nigel got back in touch with nature and got to show off his archery skills.  And we all had the pleasure of frequenting Happy's fine dinning establishment.  The only one not able to relax was Kisty.  She was still too close to Water Break to relax...she was a hunted woman, after all.


I have come to look back on those days as bliss.


----------



## Rybaer

*Re: peace at last*



			
				Rurik said:
			
		

> *
> I have come to look back on those days as bliss. *





I don't know how many times the players have mentioned how much they appreciated the down time they got while at the mages' guild.  Almost everything before and since has been go-go-go.  

I think they'd be perfectly content to settle down in some posh lodge, fully staffed, and perhaps set out on some grand adventure once a year if they were so inclined.  Hire Happy on as a chef.  Conjure unseen servants for massages.   Read some books.

Maybe someday...

-Rybaer


----------



## Rurik

> Hire Happy on as a chef. Conjure unseen servants for massages. Read some books.





> Maybe someday...





Ahh yes...Maybe some year...


----------



## Amblin

*Happies*

One quick point about the troll fight. I went through the door at the begining. It was later, with the flaming blanket that I jumped through the window. Incuring minor burns to myself.
    Happies was a good time. Coffee is liquid ambrosa, but in truth I like Zalmans flavored water better. No jitters. It was also nice to get a chance to teach some of what I've learned. It seems you don't really know something until you can get someone else to see it as well. I learned a lot from the farmers.


----------



## Zalman

Zalman has been experimenting with different uses for his Prestidigitation . (sp?)  Lately he had used it to remove all the water from our clothes and to flavor water for coffee. ::::mmmm::::  

I, personally, wish I had done better at the mage duel.  I never got another chance to. (it would have been boring for the other characters to do this again - it was focused on my character like the Battle of the Bat was for Amblin)  Anyway, I had fun.  

One of the neat things that we saw at Happy's was a spell.  It was the only spell Happy knew, and he wouldn't teach it to me.  He cast the spell and some huge nasty demon was summoned.  Happy handed him a sealed jar, he opened it, then popped away.  That's all it did.  Story was some wizard that was pissed off at this particular demon created a spell that continually summoned him to open stuck jars.  That's all it will do.  We loved it!


----------



## Rybaer

Zalman said:
			
		

> *
> One of the neat things that we saw at Happy's was a spell.  It was the only spell Happy knew, and he wouldn't teach it to me.  He cast the spell and some huge nasty demon was summoned.  Happy handed him a sealed jar, he opened it, then popped away.  That's all it did.  Story was some wizard that was pissed off at this particular demon created a spell that continually summoned him to open stuck jars.  That's all it will do.  We loved it! *





This spell of Happy's was borrowed from something I'd read on the messageboards at about the same time.  I thought it was pretty funny and incorporated it into Happy's character.  It's the only spell he's capable of casting, but it's sufficient to keep the guests amused.

-Rybaer


----------



## Rurik

The spell Ryber got form this board that summons a demon to open a jar I believe was taken from a book called _With a Single Spell_ by Lawrence Watt-Evans.  If someone came up with this on their own, I'm not trying to take credit away, I'm just repeating where I read it.  It was the funniest part of a great book.  The spell suprised and entertained the group greatly, and was all around fun.   


Yet another reason I wish for those dayes back.


----------



## Rybaer

Session #11.1 – A plan develops


Once Zalman finished work on his Goggles of Darkvision, the group was ready to return to Water Break.  They had a narrow set of very specific goals they had to accomplish so they could get in and back out of the city without having to spend a night there and risk exposure to Kisty’s sister and the Thieves’ Guild.  First, Amblin wanted to meet the master of the Green Snake School in hopes of learning what school of martial arts Chelis had trained him in.  Second, Amblin wanted to pick up the map of Myrial that he had commissioned from a mapmaker the last time they’d been in town.  Third, the group wanted to stop by the Traders’ Guildhall in hopes of setting up some sort of trade connections for New Selmar.  After that, they would cross the river and make for Lohna’s hometown of Vineyard Pass – and hope that her invitation to pay a visit would still be welcomed, even after a six-week absence.

The group said a fond farewell to the mages of the Thunder Guild and promised to return when time permitted.  On their way out of town, they stopped by Happy’s for another wonderful breakfast and another fond farewell.  The rest of the day’s journey was quiet and uneventful.  Kisty placed them less than half a day from the city gate.  She borrowed a Hat of Disguise from the group and told them she’d go ahead of them so as not to arouse the immediate attention of the Theives’ Guild.  Furthermore, she’d tail them while they were in the city and watch of signs of pursuit.  If she found anything, she’d alert them with the keyword “Digger,” the name of Shadykin’s familiar.

By noon, the rest of the group reached the city’s West gate.  Lohna’s note again sped their access to the city past the watchful eye of the guard and a pair of priests from the Church of the Small.  They made first for the Green Snake School.  

Hidden in the back alleyways in the heart of the city’s industrial district, an unremarkable door was painted with a stylized green snake.  The door was answered immediately when Amblin knocked and the student bowed before Amblin, apparently recognizing him from the Duel of the Bat.  Amblin entered with Nigel following closely.  Zalman and Rurik remained in the alley with the horses, keeping a close eye out for unwelcome visitors.

The decor of school belied the building’s crude exterior.  It was done in a pleasant mix of polished woods, ornate artwork and sculpted plants.  A training area was set in the center of the large room and doors led out the back to a picturesque garden courtyard.  Druk Var, the half-orc, soon joined them, expressing his pleasure at seeing them again.  Amblin apologized for taking so long to pay them a visit, mentioning the need to leave unexpectedly on important business.  Druk Var did not dig further.

Druk Var led Amblin and Nigel into the garden and introduced them to his master, Ketterin Klock.  Ketterin was a human with darkly tanned and weathered skin.  His hair was graying but his eyes were bright and quick.  He hopped up from his work trimming a bush and he bowed briefly before Amblin.  Amblin returned the gesture with a deep bow and Nigel, feeling like the odd man out, bowed awkwardly.  

Druk Var excused himself while Amblin and Ketterin spoke.  They exchanged some small pleasantries and then spoke for a while of philosophy and style.  Amblin found the older man to be well spoken and wise, asking careful questions that elicited pointed responses.  After a short bit, Ketterin encouraged Amblin to perform a demonstration of his martial arts skills and moves so that he might better be able to identify his style.  Ten minutes later, Ketterin had something of an answer.

“While I am not certain of your school,” he began, “it is clearly one of the Southwestern styles.  I would wager it is most likely that of the Springing Sphinx, based on your leaping and lunging prowess.  Little do I know of this style, though, as I have only encountered its practitioners a couple times in my life, and then only when I was quite young.  The Springing Sphinx School, if I recall correctly, is based out of the great city of Tet Amir, far from here.”

Amblin thanked the master for his wisdom and his time.  He wished he could stay longer, but told Ketterin that he and his companions had urgently pressing matters to attend to and that it was only for the sake of his friendship that they had spared the last hour so that he could visit the Green Snake School.  The master seemed to take no offense and bade them farewell and good journeys.

Gathering up the horses, the group returned to the main thoroughfare and made for the Exchange District and the Trader’s Guildhall.  En route, a young human girl wearing a dirty dress came up to Amblin and tried to sell him a flower.

“Uh, how much are they?” Amblin asked.

“For you, sir, three gold coins,” she innocently replied and grinned broadly.  Amblin almost chocked.  He was about to turn her down, but something in her posture made him a bit suspicious.  Fishing in his belt pouch, he retrieved a couple coins and handed them to her.  She gave him a very ordinary white daisy in exchange.

“Thanks!” she said as she tucked away the coins.  “Enjoy your stay in the city.  It doesn’t look like anyone is giving you problems so far.”  With that, she gave him a wink and skipped off into the early afternoon crowd.

Amblin quietly relayed to the others that Kisty thought they did not have a tail yet.  They looked around in search of their companion, despite knowing that she was likely well disguised with the magic hat.  

A few minutes later they arrived at the center of the Exchange District and had little difficulty finding the prominent three-story building that was the guildhall of the Traders.  A pair of groomsmen took their horses near the entrance and another servant held the door for them to enter.  A large tastefully decorated hall with a pair of balconies overlooking it from the second the third floors, dominated the center of the building.  Doors led to the offices of various trade guild merchants and the handful of well-dressed folk moving about the place conveyed a sense of a professional business environment.

From behind a large desk in the hall a young man asked them the nature of their business.  They explained that they were representatives from the city of New Selmar and they were here interested in working with someone to open potential trade contacts.  He asked them to take seats and that he would inquire with a few of the more likely traders.  

Ten minutes later, he was leading them up to the second floor to the office of one Trevor Aberdeen.  He held the door and indicated they should enter.  The front room of the offices was small and cramped.  Behind a desk sat a young man, a clerk, who was busy working through a pile of paperwork.  Cabinets, bookshelves, and stacks of papers and boxes filled what little space was left in the room.

The clerk looked up as they all tried to fit into the small room.  “Oh, hello there,” he said as he gave them an appraising look.  “Mr. Aberdeen will be with you in just a moment.”

True to his word, the door behind the desk opened a minute later and a tall man with slightly graying hair and tasteful business attire stepped forward.  “Welcome, welcome,” he said in a solid baritone.  “I am Trevor Aberdeen.  Please, come into my office.”

Trevor’s office was larger and less crowed than the clerk’s, but still was tight once he managed to get four extra chairs situated in front of his own massive desk.  A window behind the desk overlooked the center of the Exchange District.  To the left of the desk was a door.  Around the room were assorted odds and ends, knick-knacks and artifacts from a lifetime of various enterprises.

“So,” Trevor began, “I understand you’re from New Selmar?  I’m guessing this is somewhere in the vicinity of the old city of Selmar?”  They nodded in agreement.  “Fascinating.  This long after the end of the war, no one had heard a peep out of that region and everyone just assumed it had been completely lost.  Anyway, I get ahead of myself.  Perhaps I should let you introduce yourselves properly and tell me specifically what business brings you to my attention.”

They told him their names and explained the story of Selmar’s fall, their people’s enslavement, and how New Selmar was formed over the last six years just a bit upriver from the old ruins.  They further explained how they had been sent out in search of other cities and survivors and, hopefully, to establish trade contacts.

Trevor seemed interested in their tale.  “Well,” he began, “when the clerk told me that some folk from New Selmar were looking for traders, it peaked my interest.  You see, before the war, I actually used to work caravans out to Selmar.  I think I might even have a few of the old route maps.”  He went through the side door into a closet of sorts and rummaged around for several minutes before returning with a large leather-bound volume stuffed with dozens of loose parchment maps.  As he laid it out before them, they were able to finally see the entire lay of the land between New Selmar and Water Break – much of which they’d skipped when Thrindlemond teleported them across most of the distance.

The conversation continued for some time with Trevor probing for information on goods and commodities that New Selmar might have to make the trade trip worthwhile as well as what goods they were most in need of.  The stories also covered the group’s journey to Water Break and many of their misadventures on the way.  When he heard of their encounters with the Shadow and his gang, he was most impressed.  Word has spread around town about the group who had taken him on and survived.  Trevor wasn’t surprised to hear that the Shadow had been involved in the incident out in the town of High Hill, either.  The group was a little surprised to hear how news of their doings had spread so extensively.  When Trevor learned that they had been to a private audience with the Duke, and had also received a reward for their heroism, he seemed to take on a thoughtful look.

“I have a thought,” he said finally.  “It may or may not work, but it might be worth inquiring about.  Look, it’s already mid-summer.  If I wanted to stage a caravan trip out to New Selmar and make it back before risking the bad weather of fall, I’d have to set out within the next month or two at the latest.  In order to make such a trip worthwhile, though, I’d have to have contracts secured with the people of New Selmar.  I would need to know exactly what they needed and what I could bring back in return.  The land between here and there is not safe any longer and I’d need a large and heavily guarded group.  That’s not cheap.  Now, there isn’t nearly enough time left in the season to get there and back to secure the necessary contracts, unless we find an alternative means of getting there and back in a hurry.”

The group looked at one another, wondering what the merchant was getting at.  

“The Duke,” Trevor said, “has a small contingent of griffon riders under his command.  Griffons would easily be able to make the trip there and back in much less time and with considerably less risk.  Now, you guys seem to have gotten off on the Duke’s good side with your efforts against the Shadow and in helping deal with some giants.  If you could somehow convince the Duke to lend you a few riders, we could make a quick trip out there and secure the contracts in time to get a caravan set up yet this season.  Want to give that a try?”

This was a bit more than they had expected from the merchant.  They had just assumed that telling him of New Selmar would probably be sufficient to accomplish what the council of their hometown had asked of them.  This Trevor seemed very interested in starting trade, and seemed willing to take aggressive measures to get things moving quickly on it.  Finally, they agreed that they would speak with the Duke the next morning and try to negotiate use of some griffons for the trip.  Frankly, they had no idea how they were going to manage that, but they would lose nothing in at least speaking with him.

When they were done discussing the matter, Trevor shook hands with each and escorted them out to the street where their horses were returned.  Hooty, who had been set to watch over the area, informed Zalman that he had not seen any sign of unusual activity or of Kisty.  Waving farewell to the trader, the group pressed on to their last bit of business for the day.

They found mapmaker Joe at his little stand on the dockside of the Exchange District.  The aging man had almost completely forgotten who Amblin was, but with a little reminder was finally able to recall the monk’s visit some six weeks earlier.  He had indeed finished making the requested copy of the map of Myrial, though he cautioned Amblin that not everything on there was accurate post-war.  Amblin unfolded it and marveled at the visual reconstruction of everywhere they had been and of the countless places they had yet to see.  He found Tet Amir, the city the master had told him of, on the coast of some ocean some five or six time further from Water Break than New Selmar was.  Closer to their hometown was a reference of some interest.  Located about a hundred miles to the northwest of New Selmar in a small mountain range was “Mt. Goldforge.”

“Hey, Rurik,” Amblin said.  “You ever hear of this place?”

The dwarf had, but knew little of it.  His clan was not from that area, but they were well known for their skill in weapon and armor smithing.  Since the war, there had been no contact with the dwarves that Rurik was aware of.  “They were always pretty closed off to outsiders.”

Amblin thanked and paid the mapmaker and then carefully packed his prize in a hard scroll case.  The group, eager to get out of town while it was still afternoon, crossed the river, passed the Duke’s keep, and made it through the North Gate without incident.  Once out of the city, they keep one eye ahead of them and one behind – looking both for anyone trailing them and for signs that Kisty was catching up.


Next session:  Loopy Vapours' Incredible Alchemist's Fire and a visit with a Lady.


-Rybaer


----------



## Rurik

A bit of a side note...

Trevor also mentioned a trade route with Mt. Goldforge saying the combo of them and New Selmar would definantly be worth his time.  In New Selmar buisiness was on a trade system because everyone had a good bit of gold...this was of intrest too.


----------



## Rybaer

Rurik said:
			
		

> *
> Trevor also mentioned a trade route with Mt. Goldforge saying the combo of them and New Selmar would definantly be worth his time.  In New Selmar buisiness was on a trade system because everyone had a good bit of gold...this was of intrest too. *





Good catch.  Forgot to mention this.  He was almost more keen on reopening trade with Mt. Goldforge than New Selmar due to their reputation for producing high quality weapons and armor.  The addition of Mt. Goldforge to the potential trade route will be the decisive factor in the Duke's decision to lend use of his griffon riders to the group...as will be seen in a session or two.  Of course, getting use of the griffon corps wasn't *quite* that simple...

-Rybaer


----------



## Zalman

Oh, come now.  Getting use of the Griffon Corps, in my opinion, is one of the easiest things we did.  After all, none of the party died performing the task to gain use - just one of the assistants.  

Well, okay - we were tracked and ALMOST killed.  Hmmmm.... an eagle flying in the sky is not always an eagle flying in the sky.  Must remember to think like Zalman the Wizard not Me the Normal Guy.


Yeah, right... me normal...


----------



## Rybaer

Zalman said:
			
		

> *Oh, come now.  Getting use of the Griffon Corps, in my opinion, is one of the easiest things we did.  *






Okay, so it wasn't _that_ difficult.  Let's not get too far ahead of the story, though.  

Should have the next session or two posted late weekend or early next week.  Now that it looks like we're going back to weekly gaming from our every other week schedule, the task of getting caught up with where the party is currently seems only that much further out of reach.  I might slide on some of the slower session details to get to the meat of the adventures, though.  Besides, we wouldn't want to keep the readers waiting forever to hear what happened _last_ week, now would we?  (DM marks his scorecard with two silver stars...)


----------



## clockworkjoe

Great idea for creating a bunch of different plot threads then letting the players decide which ones to act on! 

Also, this is a good story hour.


To celebrate you may look at goofy WW2 photoshop propaganda posters

http://slangdesign.com/ww2


----------



## Zalman

Clockworkjoe,

Thanks for the kudos.  I am glad that you enjoy the thread.  What's with the link to the WWII posters?


----------



## Rybaer

Session #11.2 – Loopy and Lady


By mid-afternoon, the group was traveling north of Water Break toward the small town of Vineyard Pass to pay a visit to Nigel’s acquaintance Countess Lohna Goldenoak Graeble.  The trip was to be a brief one, only a few hours through farmland and rolling hills.  They kept a close eye on the road behind them, both for signs of a tail from the Thieves’ Guild and for Kisty trying to catch up with them.  Finally, they spotted a middle aged male gnome jogging along, and when he caught up, Kisty removed the Hat of Disguise.

“Well,” she said, “I didn’t see anyone follow you out of town, but it’s unlikely that someone from the Guild didn’t at least see you while you were about your business.”

Kisty hopped up on Nigel’s horse and they were off again.  Just as they were approaching a nameless small village at about the halfway point of the three-hour ride, Kisty asked Nigel if he had brought any sort of gift for the Countess.  Nigel admitted that he had not even thought of it, and felt rather sheepish at the oversight.  The village ahead didn’t have much to offer for shopping, but there were a couple shops that Nigel decided to peruse quickly.  In the meantime, Rurik went in search of cool drink as the hot and humid summer afternoon was wearing him down through his full plate armor.  Zalman, Amblin, and Kisty waited out on the street and watered the horses.

Just outside the shop where Nigel was shopping, a strange little gnome had a cart set up and was looking to sell his wares.  Painted boldly across the front of it was “Loopy Vapour’s Alchemical Wonders and Elixers Extraordinaire.”  Zalman, who was something of an alchemist himself, recognized several standard concoctions and had little interest in what the gnome had to offer aside from possibly restocking a few basic components for his own kit.  Rurik returned, feeling a bit fresher, and was promptly accosted by the enthusiastic gnome.

“Welcome, welcome good sir!” Loopy exclaimed.  “Allow me to show you some of my alchemical wonders, for surely a dwarf of your taste and lifestyle would surely benefit from some of these labor saving mixtures.  Take this adhesive, for instance – bonds anything together in moments and holds like rock.”  Rurik nodded politely but had little interest.  “Or these handy little tanglefoot bags, excellent for slowing down unwanted pursuers or assailants.”  Rurik and Amblin both nodded at that.  A few of Zalman’s tanglefoot bags had turned their fortunes in fights before.  “Or these wonderful new tindertwigs – merely strike them like so and they ignite instantly, even when wet!”  The gnome demonstrated and, sensing a lack of interest, casually tossed the burning tindertwig away and pressed on with the next item in his inventory.  The tindertwig, however, landed on one of the lower shelves of his cart in between four small wood casks of alchemist’s fire that he’d made as part of a custom order for some dwarven miners.

Nigel was continuing to go over the slim pickings of what amounted to a general store.  There was little here that he felt could impress or would be worthy to give a noble woman.  He was beginning to despair when shouts from the street outside caught his attention.  When he looked up, all he saw was a giant fireball erupting from the gnome trader’s cart that was parked just outside the door.  The front half of the general shop he was in caught fire and thick black smoke began to fill the room.  The owners of the shop, an elderly couple, began to panic and sought to extinguish the blaze.  Nigel realized the futility of it and encouraged them to follow him out the back door.

Out in the street, Zalman, Amblin, Rurik and Kisty had all backed well away from the blaze.  Even at fifty feet, the intensity of heat was almost unbearable.  At the very center of the fire, where the immolated cart once rested, the fire was white-blue, almost as painfully bright to look at as the sun itself.  Zalman and Rurik both summoned small water elementals to try to extinguish the blaze.  The elementals were unable to quench so intense a fire, but they were able to help contain it from spreading too quickly to some of the adjacent buildings.

As Nigel finally caught back up with the group, something began to move about in the core of the inferno.  Was that a clawed foot?  A massive, scaled jaw?  Almost beyond belief, a huge reptilian monstrosity, fully twenty-five feet long from head to tail and standing nearly twelve tall on two legs.  Its scaly hide was obsidian black pebble with deep red fire escaping from between the cracks.  Its eyes were bottomless sockets of soulless flame and waves of shimmering heat issued forth as it roared and surveyed its surroundings.

(DM note:  This was a tweaked up megaraptor dinosaur with the fire elemental template added.  Nasty little bugger.)

While the townsfolk scattered for cover, the group slowly backed away and mounted up.  Zalman, who had an abundance of knowledge of all things planar, concluded that the sheer intensity of the fire might have causes a spontaneous hole to rip open between the prime material plane and the elemental plane of fire, allowing this creature to gain access.  Such things were not unheard of.  Occasional holes could open to the plane of water in the deepest depths of the oceans, or to the plane of earth in dark caves miles below the surface.  While professionally interested in the phenomenon, Zalman had a more personal and immediate interest in survival.  They, as a group this time, fled town.

The creature, being drawn to the motion of their horses running, chased after them.  As the group urged their horses down the road north, the creature pursued with alarming speed.  In fact, it was quite clearly gaining ground on them – particularly Amblin’s dog.  Sensing that they couldn’t continue to outrun the thing without eventually losing someone, Zalman was the first to turn his horse around to face the raptor.  He slipped from his saddle and called forth a lightning bolt that stuck the charging creature head on.  It scarcely slowed down before catching the lone Zalman and chomping down with teeth like daggers still red-hot from the forge.

Amblin quickly joined the fray, springing in and out of the beast’s reach and landing a couple feeble blows.  Each hit Amblin landed earned him a nice burn.  Rurik wheeled his horse around and tried to get back to the action, drawing out his axe and readying his shield.  Nigel, meanwhile, hopped off his mount from a bit further down the road and started plunking it with arrows.

The fight ended rather quickly.  The beast, while it managed to land a few good blows on Zalman and the others, soon fell to the abuse the combined group was able to unleash upon it.  As Rurik healed Zalman’s wounds, Zalman explained his theory about what the creature was and how it crossed over from another plane.  They agreed that while the fire really wasn’t their problem, they were probably the best-equipped folks around to deal with it.  So, they returned to town to see about extinguishing the blaze.

Luckily for them, by the time they got back the intense fire had already consumed nearly all its fuel and the townsfolk were now working quickly to try and quench the flames that had erupted in the adjacent buildings.  From the couple witnesses who had seen the group take on and take down the fire elemental, word spread quickly of their heroic deeds.  They were cheered and treated to food and drink for their efforts.

The group graciously accepted a bit of drink but was eager to get back on the road.  It was already late afternoon and they didn’t want to impose upon the countess too late in the morning.  On the way back out of town, as they passed the smoldering corpse in the middle of the road, they paused to claim a couple trophies – the massive sickle-shaped claws from its powerful hind legs.

The balance of the trip to Lohna’s was uneventful.  The terrain became rockier and more broken.  True to its name, Vineyard Pass had many vineyards and the locals were busy tending to their crops.  When asked, a peasant indicated that the Countess lived in an estate just north of the city, down the left fork in the road.  It was not difficult to find.

The estate consisted of several buildings including a beautiful L-shaped, three-story house made of stone and timbers.  In front of the house was a magnificent water fountain.  Well-manicured trees and shrubs lined the road and grounds around the house.  To the right side of the property was a magnificent gazebo situated among winding flower gardens in full bloom.

A servant, noting their approach, offered to tend to their horses.  When they knocked at the front door, a gorgeous young half-elf answered.  She wore simple yet fetching servant’s garb and bore an aura of confidence and competence.

“Can I help you?” she asked, looking the dirty and road-weary bunch over unassumingly.

Nigel stepped forward and introduced himself and his companions.

“Master Nigel!” the girl said.  “Mistress Lohna told us to expect a visit from you, though I must admit that we had anticipated you arriving some time ago.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Nigel said.  “We were pulled away unexpectedly on some business.”

“I understand sir,” she said.  “Please, come in.  I will see to it that you have rooms and baths made available as needed.”  They followed into a modest foyer dominated by a massive framed mirror facing the door.  Mirrors were uncommon, almost rare, and were rarely anything more than a small bit of highly polished metal.  This was something entirely different.  Their reflections were perfection itself and they were, to a person, shocked at their own appearances.  Three months on the road had taken a toll.  They looked worn and dirty but, more importantly, they looked like confident and accomplished adults.

“This way, please,” the servant led them down a hallway and then up a flight of stairs to the second floor.  She opened three rooms for them, two for the men and one for Kisty.  “Hot baths will be drawn shortly.  We can also tend your garments, if you so desire.”

Everyone thanked her for the hospitality extended.  “My Mistress usually does not awake for another hour or two.  I’m sure she will wish you to join her at her evening meal.  I will fetch you when she is ready.  My name is Linnea and you can feel free to ask me or any of the other staff for anything you need in the meantime.”

Once Linnea’s footsteps were out of earshot, each of the group turned and looked at Nigel.

“She doesn’t wake up ‘til sunset?”

“Did anyone else notice that all the windows in this place are shuttered and curtained?  And it’s the middle of summer?”

“Does anyone else have a nagging feeling in the back of their mind that something’s just not right here?”


Next session:  Dinner and dinner guests...and a late-night caller.


----------



## Zalman

Well, IMHO we were not told how tough this sucker was - or how big.  This was a while ago, so my recollection may be faulty, but I don't remember "fire-megaraptor" being the description at the time.  (or anything that would have provoked extra caution)  It wasn't until I turned to engage the critter that I was led to believe how tough the sucker was.  Then it was too late.  

Well, here is life threatening experience #17.

I don't remember who took the claws off of the megaraptor - it may have been Amblin.  I wonder what he did with those.  As Rybaer said, I had some knowledge/interest in planar activities. Dinner tonight at Lohna's would just heighten my interest.


----------



## clockworkjoe

Zalman said:
			
		

> *Clockworkjoe,
> 
> Thanks for the kudos.  I am glad that you enjoy the thread.  What's with the link to the WWII posters? *




It's an archive of a bunch of ww2 american propaganda posters photoshopped by people on the something awful message boards. I host the archive and I thought some people might think its funny.

Just completely random i guess.


----------



## Rybaer

Zalman said:
			
		

> *Well, IMHO we were not told how tough this sucker was - or how big.  This was a while ago, so my recollection may be faulty, but I don't remember "fire-megaraptor" being the description at the time.  (or anything that would have provoked extra caution)  It wasn't until I turned to engage the critter that I was led to believe how tough the sucker was.  Then it was too late.
> *





Well, I seem to recall my description to have been rather more accurate than you do.  It was something like:  "Okay, y'all remember to velociraptors from Jurassic Park?  Right.  Now, imagine one of them, but it's nearly the size of a T-Rex.  Still with me?  Okay, now, give the critter skin that has the look and temperature of magma that has cooled just enough to form a thin black crust.  Now, add to that the fact that it stepped out of an incredibly intense fire and is now chasing you...outrunning your galloping horses."

Now, as to how tough it actually was...well, it had a very poor AC and not real good hit points (hence the reason it fell so quickly).  What it did have going for it was that it could hit like a ton of bricks - a ton of razor-sharp, red-hot bricks.

Of course, your interpretation of its description could have been skewed by intangibles such as other people talking or certain people dozing...  In the end, though, no one was killed, the town was saved, and a few unusual trophies were claimed.


----------



## Zalman

> Of course, your interpretation of its description could have been skewed by intangibles such as other people talking or certain people dozing...




Well that is always the case... Why this would have been any different I don't know?


----------



## Amblin

*Claws*

Amblin in: Yes it was I that procurred the Dino claws and some day I'll make a neckless with those and the wolverine claws, and the dragon claws, and the troll teeth. Oh wait I didn't grab any troll teeth. Mental note, kill more trolls. As for the size of the Dino I remember it as pretty big, and hot, and mad. So I ran like everybody else. Then Zelman stopped so I turned around. I do take offence to the term ineffectual. It seems to describe my attacks all to often. 
      Now Lonna the vampire with a big mirror in her entry hall is much more entertaining. Well at least I think she's a vampire. Mental note vampire teeth.


----------



## Lazybones

Rybaer, 
Although I'm only on page 2 at this point, I just wanted to weigh in and say that I'm enjoying your story hour.  Very creative setting and cool scenarios.  The adventures in the dome reminded me of a scenario I wrote for 2e based on a bunch of creatures that were in an old Dragon mag; it included "death sheep", "were-rabbits," and a few other a-typical monsters.  I look forward to catching up with the tale.  

Lazybones


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## Rybaer

Thanks Lazybones.  Glad to hear you enjoy it.

I did have particular fun with creating the critters and challenges contained within Shadykin's Golden Dome.  I took an idyllic Disney-esque custom-made world and added 20 years of malfunction.  Turned into a twisted Alice in Wonderland sort of deal.  Since that episode, the players haven't faced many things quite that strange, but they've still seen a few things that caught them off guard.  I'm a big fan of using templates on otherwise mundane monsters.

"Death sheep"...hmmm...I like that one...hehe.


----------



## Rurik

*Dino Claws*

I took one of the long claws off the rear feet.  Don't really know what to do with it...but I have it.  I guess it's one more thing to brag about.

"So one time, we came up against this 40...50 foot dinosaur...and it was made of fire.  If fact, it breathed fire and had fire shooting out of its eyes..."


----------



## Rybaer

Session #11.3 - The Countess of Vineyard Pass 


The servant Linnea summoned the group back downstairs and led them to a parlor where the Countess was waiting for them.  Lohna Goldenoak Graeble, as she introduced herself to the four she had not previously met, was a sight to behold.  Her long, golden yellow hair was tied back in a single braid to her waist.  Deep blue eyes matched the color of her elegant yet simple gown.  Everything she did, from walking to speaking to sipping wine, was done with a cultured grace. 

Nigel thanked Lohna for tolerating their unannounced arrival so long after her invitation had been offered.  He then proceeded to introduce each of his companions - Zalman, Rurik, Amblin, and Kisty.  Chilled wine was provided and everyone found comfortable seats.  Lohna led the pre-dinner conversation, asking each pointed questions about some portion of their adventures that Nigel had mentioned during their previous meeting.  By and large, most of the group opened up to the elf maiden's inviting personality.  Rurik, a bit sullen, was more interested in his wine. 

At some point, Zalman broached the subject of the magnificent mirror in the foyer.  She told them that during the war, when Water Break fell, she and her husband were among the refugees that fled south.  (Nigel's ears perked up at the word 'husband.')  During their time there, she had come across a master craftsman who made these remarkable mirrors.  She had commissioned this one to be made a couple years ago and had it shipped up.  It was placed in the foyer so that all her guests would see themselves in her house before they even entered the door, as a sign of welcome.  She also admitted that there were few other suitable walls in the house on which to hang such a large mirror. 

Another awkward subject was also addressed in a somewhat subtle manner - her unusual sleeping habits. 

"Ah yes," Lohna said.  "I suppose you haven't heard the stories, not being from around here.  Well, to begin with, have you heard about the magical diseases that struck this area over the last year or so?" 

They nodded that they had heard something of them. 

"Well, the diseases came in waves, and each had different and unusual symptoms.  Many people died, and of those who survived, many were were left with unusual scars.  Anyway, I fell victim to one of these diseases and was completely incapacitated for weeks.  My husband Rondel, a paladin of Heironeous, was protected by his devotion and he stayed by my side throughout the ordeal. 

"Now, before Rondel took the title for this land, we were frequently adventuring across the land.  We made many friends and many enemies.  One of these old enemies of ours apparently chose this opportunity, with me incapacitated, to strike at us in retribution for perceived wrongs we had caused him.  Standing together, he could not face us, but forced to stand alone, Rondel was slain.  I have only a vague recollection of that night, so delirious I was.  However, it is my belief that my husband's dying prayer was to protect me and see me through my disease. 

"The next morning, my fever broke.  The disease was gone, but my body was not unscarred.  Somehow, the disease's magical nature had left my skin incredibly sensitive to sunlight.  I burn in moments and would die very quickly if left exposed.  I've sought cures from several priests, but so far none has been able to rid me of this curse. 

"As you can imagine, the tale of a noble who rises at the setting of the sun quickly spread far and wide.  Within months, several separate groups of vampire hunters came calling, each ready to slay me.  Fortunately, I've been able to convince each of my unique situation without having to resort to bloodshed...though it's been close on a number of occasions." 

Just then, Linnea poked her head in the door.  "Mistress, you have two more guests."  She opened the door fully and allowed two unusual figures to enter.  Both had the height and build of a dwarf, but their heads were vaguely lional and both had golden brown fur.  They were dressed in unusual but stylish clothing and carried themselves proudly.  Zalman, an accomplished study of the Planes, believed them to be Leonals, highly intelligent beings native to Elysium, a plane where Goodness was the rule.  If his suspicions were correct, they had little to fear from these newcomers, and if they were acquaintances of Lohna, it bumped up his opinion of her as well.  Rurik, who had spent several weeks of his life with a lion's head, also took a keen interest in the pair. 

Lohna warmly welcomed the Leonals and made introductions all around.  The Leonals, Lura and Diazmo, proved to be polite and interesting conversationalists, eager to ask questions of the group and their interesting travels.  Before long, Linnea interrupted again to announce that dinner was ready. 

The dining hall was a medium sized room, furnished tastefully in dark wood tones.  Eight settings of fine china and silver were placed about the long table and a pair of kitchen staff stood ready to begin the service.  Several courses of delectable delights were served and the group was dazzled by the amazing tastes.  Nothing they had ever eaten had been served so formally, nor tasted so good.  Even Happy's was put to shame. 

Conversation continued through dinner and at some point Zalman finally asked if the two latecomers were indeed Leonals.  They confirmed his suspicion.  He asked if they were traveling the Prime Material plane or how they had come to stop by for dinner.  Diazmo replied that Lohna had a portal within her residence. 

"Yes," Lohna said.  "My adventuring career took me across many of the higher planes and I met many interesting folk.  When Rondel and I finally settled here, one of our acquaintances created a permanent portal to the Inn so that we could pay frequent visits to others and they could do likewise." 

"Indeed," Lura said.  "Lohna is a frequent host, and was a frequent guest of many.  While her place here is a bit quaint compared to some for ambiance, she somehow manages to find some of the best cooks on any of the planes to work her kitchens." 

"You're too kind," Lohna said.  "If Gurie hears you talking about his dinner like that he'll get a big head and start entertaining ideas of leaving me to set up shop in some snobbish king's court." 

"This Inn you mentioned," Zalman said.  "That's the World Serpent Inn?" 

"Yes," Lohna said.  "You're familiar with it?" 

"A bit," Zalman replied.  "I've studied the planes some, but have never had the opportunity to travel to any of them." 

"Well, perhaps you'll get the chance before long," Lohna said, smiling.  "Parts of the planes are dangerous beyond imagining, but others are so beautiful and peaceful as to leave you weeping for joy." 

Dinner concluded and the Leonals thanked Lohna for dinner and parted ways.  Lohna then offered to give the others a tour of the gardens.  As she led them outside, she explained that since she was stricken with the inability to venture into the sun, she had started collecting plant specimens that favored the dark.  Several of the plants in the gardens were varieties that only bloomed in the dark. 

The gardens, which the group had only glimpsed upon their arrival, were indeed magnificent.  Gravel paths wove haphazardly through a variety of well-tended plants, flowers, and trees.  Fragrant blossoms were in abundance.  Lining the trails were a countless small spheres that magically glowed in soft blues, greens, and violets, providing enough gentle illumination to give the gardens a mysterious and enchanting appearance. 

The tour ended at the gazebo, where everyone found comfortable seats and relaxed in the warm summer breeze.  Talk returned to the mission of the group.  They told Lohna that they had to return to Water Break early the next morning to seek an audience with the Duke.  Lohna expressed disappointment that they couldn't stay longer, but urged them to return whenever they wished.  Eventually, everyone turned in for bed except for Nigel. 

Nigel and Lohna remained in the gazebo, sharing more intimate conversation and enjoying a private, quiet moment between elves.  Lohna abruptly broke off from Nigel mid-kiss and cocked her head ever so slightly. 

"Did you head that?" she asked in a whisper. 

Nigel strained his acute elvish ranger hearing, but could discern nothing from the ordinary sounds of the night.  "No, what?" 

"Something in the gardens," she whispered.  She motioned for him to follow.  Quite as a cat, she slipped along the paths toward the back corner of the house and looked out over the dimly lit gardens.  Nigel shadowed her and peered over her shoulder.  He could see nothing. 

After a few moments, Lohna silently pointed across the gardens into the darkness.  Nigel strained and finally caught a hint of motion in the dark, though what it was he could not determine. 

"I'm going to rouse what guards there are," Lohna whispered.  "Keep an eye on them and be careful."  With that, she quickly and quietly jogged back around the house toward the front door. 

Nigel marveled at how Lohna was able to so easily make out something moving toward her gardens, nearly silent and invisible at this distance.  He returned his focus to where she had pointed and now, as a pair of figures entered the limits of the ghostly garden lights.  He immediately didn't like their appearance - giant, four-armed ape-like monstrosities (what he would later learn were girallons).  He also didn't like the fact that he was armor and weaponless.


Next session:  Halfling and friends in the garden.


----------



## Zalman

Rich lady living alone, except for her servants, who can not venture out at night.  Her Paladin husband dead (uh, huh...) and strange visitors.  

Nothing is ever as straightforward as it seems.  She is a vampire of high level that has taken a liking to my friend, Nigel.  She wants us "for dinner" and him for a new mate.  She couldn't get her Paladin Hubby to play with her so she disposed of him.  She and the Leonals are into some interplanar mess and we have stumbled into the middle of it.  

Well, that is going on in Zalman's head right now....


----------



## Phorck

Great storyhour, I really liked the golden dome.  I'm looking forward to the time when the group gets to finish off the Shadow.  Do you have the characters posted anywhere?


----------



## Rybaer

Phorck said:
			
		

> *Great storyhour, I really liked the golden dome.  I'm looking forward to the time when the group gets to finish off the Shadow.  Do you have the characters posted anywhere? *





Thanks!  (and I'm sure the group is equally looking forward to having their way with the Shadow...especially after last week's session...)

No, the characters aren't posted anywhere yet.  I'd kinda like to get them posted, but I suspect I'd have to do most of the work if there's any hope of keeping them updated.  The other catch is that where we currently are in the game is still about 3-4 months ahead of where the postings are...and that might cause a bit of confusion.

So, perhaps in another couple months when the sessions get caught up with the actual game, the characters may get posted.  At this point, most of the characters are single-classed, level 6 or 7, possibly bordering on 8th for Nigel and Rurik.  Nigel is the one single-class exception as he's taken the Arcane Archer prestige class.


----------



## Bommer

I’m not currently “in” the story, but I do have most of my character info on a word document. I’ll post it when I’m introduced into the story. No matter what character I’ll be playing by then…


----------



## Rybaer

Session #11.4 – Halfling in the night


Lohna raced upstairs and decided it would be worth the effort to go by the guest rooms first to rouse Nigel’s companions.  Judging by the gear they reportedly had been toting and the stories they had shared, they would be more useful in a fight than any of her staff.  She raced by their doors, knocking on them loudly and announcing that there were intruders approaching from beyond the gardens.  Lohna remained only long enough to tell them that she had left Nigel at the corner of the house (conveniently the same corner their rooms were at) and that she was off to rouse the rest of the household.

Amblin peered out his window, but even with the dim lighting the garden provided he didn’t immediately see the threat Lohna spoke of.  Kisty joined him from her room across the hall, sling in one hand and buckling her dagger-laden belt about her waist with the other.  She took a peek out the window and then pointed to the pair of girallons that were pointedly making their way through the garden toward their back corner of the house.

In the next room over, the corner room on the second floor above Nigel’s hiding spot, Zalman and Rurik were likewise looking out across the gardens.  Zalman recognized the creatures for what they were, and wondered where they had come from.  He didn’t think girallons were at all common to these parts.  Something in the back of his mind warned him that they might be summoned.  Rurik hastily grabbed his axe and shield and looked longingly at his magical full plate armor.

Zalman decided to open the window a bit further so that he could get a clear shot out with any spells.  As he did so, however, a blast of lightning erupted from somewhere along the back edge of the garden and obliterated the window and tore a good-sized hole in the wall of their room.  Zalman suffered mild injuries and Rurik also suffered a few cuts and burns from the bit of lightning that made it through the wall.  Everyone in the party had seen Zalman throw around enough lightning bolts to recognize that there was a spellcaster out there who wanted them dead.  Who, or why, however, were questions they didn’t have time to ponder.

Amblin turned to Kisty, but found that she was already gone.  Kisty, seeing that there was a wizard out there, had run for the stairs and the front door.  It was her intent to sneak through the gardens and try to catch the wizard by surprise.  Given the distance she had to go, however, she just hoped to make it before the assailant completely destroyed the house or her friends.  Amblin, assuming she was doing her own thing, just turned his focus back to keeping an eye on the giant four-armed gorilla things running toward them.

Nigel concluded that he was useless without his bow or sword.  After his bad experience in close-quarters fighting with the pair of trolls a month or two back, he was in no hurry to try to engage the girallons with anything other than a handful of sharp pointy sticks from a healthy distance.  So, he slipped back around the side of the house, climbed up to and through the second floor window in the hallway just outside their guest rooms, and ran over to the room he shared with Amblin.

Zalman and Rurik were both trying to spot the wizard so they could retaliate with spells, but failed to find any other sign of his presence.  The girallons, running through the garden straight for their location, now became the more serious threat.  One of the pair leapt up the side of the house, using two arms to grasp the gaping hole left by the lightning bolt and the other two arms to reach in and try to hit Zalman and Rurik with wicked claws.  Zalman desperately backed up while Rurik hacked away at the arms.  When Zalman finally got over the debris and to the hallway, he turned around and launched a fireball that he spontaneously converted to electricity (so as not to set the house on fire).  It detonated just behind the girallon and the beast let out a satisfying cry of pain before dropping back to the ground.

In the next room over, the second girallon similarly leapt up to the window, using two arms to hold itself in place while it reached in after Amblin and Nigel with the second pair.  Amblin tried to hit it with a few punches and kicks, but found that the girallon hit back much harder.  Realizing that he was losing his advantage of mobility by fighting from this room, he tried a different tactic.  He leapt toward the window and planted a stunning kick on the girallon’s jaw, causing it to drop back to the ground.  Seizing the moment, Amblin leapt out the window and was out in the garden, free to use his spring attack style to full utility.  Nigel, meanwhile, had strapped his sword belt on, picked up his bow, and started peppering the girallon with arrows.

Zalman risked stepping forward to get a good look at the girallon so he could nail it with a barrage of magic missiles.  The missiles, combined with Rurik’s axe work and the lightning ball, were enough to drop the monster.  Seeing the second creature just outside his companions’ room, Zalman cast a patch of Glue right underneath it, successfully pinning it in place.  

Amblin took a good look at the stuck girallon and decided to leave it to the others to finish off.  He was the fastest in the group and figured that he would have the best shot at taking out the wizard, wherever he, she, or it was hiding.  He started to follow a circuitous route, moving quickly but hoping that by staying to the shadows he wouldn’t draw the attention of the wizard.  While his theory was sound, execution was another story.  The wizard, from his hiding place in the back of the garden, cast an Evard’s Black Tentacles right in front of Amblin’s path.  The tentacles burst forth from the ground and half a dozen of them lashed out at Amblin, tearing and grappling the poor monk.  Luckily, the first tier of tentacles “accidentally” flung Amblin’s unconscious body out of their own reach.  (Amblin’s second of three fate points.)

Nigel did not pause in firing a barrage of arrows at the now immobile girallon.  The monster was starting to resemble a pincushion.  Zalman, admiring his own handiwork with the Glue, took out a flask of alchemist’s fire and dropped it into the glue patch, igniting it and the trapped girallon.  The extra action cost him, though, as the enemy wizard was afforded another opportunity to hit Zalman with a lightning bolt.  Zalman was now seriously injured and was forced to retreat back into the hallway where Rurik took a moment and called upon Moradin’s blessing to heal his injured friend.

Nigel, who had missed the fact that Amblin was out of action, finally finished off the burning girallon.  It, like the one that Zalman and Rurik had slain, disappeared in the same manner that Zalman’s conjurations did when killed.  Nigel quickly ran to the next room and checked that both Zalman and Rurik were okay, then leapt through the hole in the wall and took to the shadows in the garden.  As he crept quickly and quietly through the bushes and flowers toward the perceived location of the wizard, he spotted the small form of Kisty ahead of him, also making a stealthy approach.  Nigel changed strategy a bit to help Kisty out – he would flank more around to the side, and try to find a good spot from which to fire arrows, possibly drawing attention away from her sneaky approach.

Once Rurik was satisfied that Zalman would live, he followed Nigel’s lead and leapt through the hole to the gardens below.  Not seeing Nigel or Kisty or Amblin’s fallen form, he chose the dwarven approach and charged full speed through and over the garden straight for where he last saw the lighting come.  He silently wished he’d had a chance to put on his armor.  At the very least, he thought, Zalman might get a good look at the wizard’s location when I get blasted.

Lohna returned to the guest rooms and got the quick update on the situation from Zalman.  She still wore her evening gown, but now carried an elegant longsword with the ease of one who’s quite comfortable with its proper implementation.  She paused at the hole in the wall to survey the garden and then leapt out after the others.  Zalman noted that her movements were quick and sure.  She wasn’t moving quite as stealthily as Nigel, but she was clearly gaining on Rurik.

Rurik found himself slightly disoriented among the hedges and plants of the garden.  When the hidden wizard nailed him with another lightning bolt, however, he was again pointed in the proper direction.  The blast barely caused him to break stride.  His darkvision finally revealed a small form crouching behind some bushes just up ahead.  As the dwarf vaulted a low row of bushes (something he’d not have attempted in his full armor), he came across something that did impede his motion – a massive iron wall spontaneously appeared right before him, propped up between a couple of trees.  He picked a new direction and started to head around the wall.

Nigel had moved far enough to the side of the garden to have a decent view of the origin of the lightning bolt.  As the wall of iron appeared, he was able to get his first halfway decent look at the caster hidden in the bushes.  With the surety of shot that any Arcane Archer has, he let fly with and arrow and plunked the diminutive spell slinger.

Zalman, who realized that he no longer had any spells with a range necessary to hit their opponent’s location, had spent the last few moments summoning forth several celestial dogs.  Once the wizard fired his lighting at Rurik, he set the dogs on the wizard.  There was little else he could do now but watch.

While Nigel fired off a couple more shots, Lohna, Kisty, and Rurik all converged on the wizard almost simultaneously.  To their surprise, the wizard was a male halfling dressed in gaudy red robes.  If it weren’t for the glint of hatred in his eyes, they’d have been unable to take him seriously.  Knowing that allowing the wizard to cast another spell would be the worst thing they could allow to have happen, everyone charged him recklessly.  The halfling clearly had some magical defenses up, but still Lohna and Rurik were able to hit him and Kisty moved to flank him to prevent any escape.  By the time the dogs arrived, the halfling was panicking and tried to cast one last spell (a teleportation) – he never got it off.

With the wizard dead, Nigel and Lohna, along with her staff that was just now arriving, swept the grounds for signs of any other intruders.  The found none.  Rurik and Zalman found Amblin’s body just inches out of the reach of the Black Tentacles.  Zalman identified the spell but was unable to dispel its effect.  He told everyone that it was harmless as long as no one ventured too close to it.  Rurik, almost depleted of spells, healed what injuries of Amblin’s that he could and then saw to it that the monk was resting comfortably back inside the house.

The halfing’s body was looted, and they recovered a number of magical items including a ring, a couple scrolls, and a wand.  Zalman hazarded a guess that it was a wand of lightning bolts.  Catching a lucky break, the command word was inscribed on it.  Lohna had her staff bring the halfling’s body inside and then set up a heightened watch for the remainder of the night.  Everyone else, exhausted from a long and trying day, fell into a deep slumber.

Just before dawn, the group rose and healed up a bit further.  Rurik also prayed for the means by which to question the halfling from the afterlife.  Unfortunately, the halfling’s will proved to be too strong and they were unable to get any answers from the slain wizard.  Lohna’s staff proceeded to bury him out in the woods.  

The group had already apologized to Lohna for the damage to her house and the inconvenience.  Though they weren’t certain of it, they suspected the halfling had been targeting them and not the countess.  Lohna told them that she had many enemies and that she wasn’t overly bothered by the incident.  They were still welcome to stay whenever they wished.  Nigel and Lohna had said their farewells before the others rose as she was going to be unable to see them off on their trip back to Water Break once dawn broke.  

Linnea provided them with simple breakfast fare for the ride back to Water Break.  She reiterated the countess’s open invitation to return at any time and without advance notice.  And, with that, the group mounted up and rode back to the city they had no real desire to visit.  But, business had to be done.  Kisty again donned the Hat of Disguise and became an aged female gnome, Nigel’s new personal servant.  They rode quickly but cautiously, ready for another ambush but still uncertain of who wanted them dead and why.  Talk of course turned to Misty and the Thieves’ Guild, but speculation and conjecture could only get them so far.



Next session: The griffon corps, Rurik gets an anonymous and disturbing note, and Zalman's live-fire duel.


----------



## Dyme

Nigel Notes…

Yeah, yeah, I know I've been lax on throwing in my couple pennies recently. Procrastination is my worst enemy. Anyway, recent stuff….

After Kisty mentioned a gift for Lohna, we stopped in that town to shop. Nigel did end up finding a silver bracelet that he had Rurik (I think-might have been Zalman) cast continual flame on.  So when we finally did reach Lohna's, Nigel did give her a gift. She seemed unimpressed. Hey… Nigel's just a simple kid from the sticks. Besides, I don't think to do that stuff in real life either.

I don't think Nigel really did anything against the fire dinosaur. He figured that his wooden arrows and flaming longsword would be utterly useless against the thing. Somehow, I do remember the description of it being 12 feet tall and about 20 feet long tho. Guess elven memories were better. Either that or I wasn't napping at that particular time. 

The mirror in Lohna's hall was a trip. I think it's the first time we all got a really good look at ourselves, and we looked like hell. No wonder people look at us strangely when we go anywhere. It's the same sort of reaction a biker gang would get going into a small, quiet town.  

The dinner, however, was not as pleasant for Nigel as it was for everyone else. When he found out that the Leonals were for a different plane of existence, Nigel's entire view of life, the universe, and everything got a severe smack upside the head. I had made a couple reaction rolls; I learned that Nigel is a geo-centric flat-earther, and this whole planar travel with portals within spitting distance was just a bit too much. Nigel insisted that Zalman and Rurik sit on either side of him at the opposite end of the Leonals and just stared at his plate while he ate.  This was really the first time Nigel had second thoughts about this whole adventuring business.

Apparently, Nigel is the only one who has not had the thought that Lohna is a vampire cross his mind. Then again, when it comes to Lohna, Nigel is not thinking with the head on his shoulders to begin with.  

Nothing really to add about the 4 armed monkey/halfling mage battle except I'm noticing a trend that whenever we spend the night indoors somewhere, a wall gets blown out with lightning sometime over the course of the evening. Ergo, I submit "The Wallbutchers" as the name for our group.

For the record, Nigel is about to hit 9th level-Ranger 6/Arcane Archer 3. Ahhhhh… the benefits of not missing too many sessions… or having to make magic stuff… or getting killed.


----------



## Bommer

Looks like I’ve missed a few things since I was laid up. How far are we behind in the story?


----------



## Rybaer

Bommer said:
			
		

> *Looks like I’ve missed a few things since I was laid up. How far are we behind in the story? *





Actually, we're very close to where you are reintroduced in your newest incarnation.  The next couple sessions will be glossed over for various reasons.  There's some interesting tidbits and pertinent plot information, but no big combat scenes.  Well, aside from Zalman's duel...

More to come soon.


----------



## Rybaer

Session #11.5 – The Duke’s proposal


With Kisty disguised and everyone else keeping a close watch about them, the group quickly moved through the streets of north Water Break.  At Duke Gosswall’s keep, they handed off their horses and proceeded up to the guards at the front chamber where they were forced to wait upon the Chamberlain.  Chamberlain Avae Moonhope, looking as stern as ever, finally met them and inquired as to their business.  They stated that they sought an audience with the Duke, private if at all possible due to matters of security.  She didn’t seem very keen on the idea, but decided to leave the request for privacy up to the Duke.  They checked their weapons with the guards and were permitted into the audience chamber without meeting the usual requisite dress code.

Once other business wound to a conclusion, the Chamberlain finally introduced them to the Duke and the other assembled members of the court.  The gray-furred minotaur guards stared intently at them as Nigel stepped forward.  The request for a private audience was granted and the Duke again invited them to join him for lunch.  There were a few murmurs of surprise among the minor nobility.

When they were seated in the dining hall, someone finally noticed that Kisty was not with them.  No one said anything, nor could they recall exactly when she had parted ways with them.  Each quietly hoped that she was continuing to play the part of servant and stayed out of trouble.

The Duke dined with just the four of them this time.  The only others in the room were the pair of minotaur guards in their respective corners and a couple servants who handled the food.  Gosswall, after they had started eating, began the conversation by asking if they were the ones who had slain that monstrous fire-lizard the day before.  They admitted that they were.  He also asked them if they were the ones who had tangled with the Thieves’ Guild thugs and the Shadow up in High Hill a month or so back.  Again, they took credit.

“For outsiders,” he told them pointedly, “you guys sure seem to be making a mark in the area.  It’s a shame that the Shadow slipped out of your grasp again.”

“No kidding,” was the general sentiment around the table.

“So,” the Duke continued.  “What brings you back to my court and why the need for a private audience?”

They gave an abridged explanation of how Kisty’s name had slipped out through someone in the Duke’s court to the Thieves’ Guild and how, though a number of events, it had led to the fight in High Hill.  Hence their eagerness to avoid word of any other plans leaking out.  Gosswall nodded at the wisdom in this, and hardly seemed surprised that word had leaked to the thieves.

“What we’re really interested in, your Lordship,” said Nigel, “is the use of your griffon riders.”

The Duke raised a dubious eyebrow but indicated Nigel should explain before he rejected the notion outright.

“As we mentioned the first time we were here,” Nigel said, “we are trying to establish trade back to our home of New Selmar.  We contacted the trader Trevor Aberdeen and he is interested in making a trip out there.  However, in order to make it worthwhile, he’d need to secure contracts in advance and know what goods to bring all that distance.  In order to do that and still have time to make a caravan trip out and back before winter, he’d need a quick way there and back for the negotiations…hence, your griffons.”

“My griffon riders are not generally available for private parties,” the Duke said in a level tone that suggested it was unlikely they were going to be able to convince him otherwise.

“We understand, sir,” Nigel said.  “It was just Trevor’s suggestion that we ask.  I suppose I should mention that in addition to the stop in New Selmar, he also wanted to swing by Mt. Goldforge to try to work a deal with the dwarves for some of their weapons and armor.  So, the trip would actually be a bit longer…”

At the mention of Mt. Goldforge, the Duke’s eyes widened just a bit.  As the group had hoped, this one tidbit was changing the equation in their favor.  “Mt. Goldforge, eh?” the Duke said.  “So, they weren’t wiped out during the war?”

“Honestly, we’re not really sure,” Nigel said.  “To the best of my knowledge, New Selmar has had no contact with them.  Though, based on Trevor’s maps, it’s far enough away from our home that I’m not surprised we haven’t heard from any of the dwarves.”  Rurik grunted in agreement.

Gosswall seemed to ponder things over for a few minutes and then stood up, apparently having come to a conclusion.  “Please excuse me for a moment,” he said.  “You may wait here.  I have an idea, but I want to run it past one of my men first.”  One of the two minotaurs followed him out while the other remained, silently watching over the group.  Nigel had noted during lunch that the minotaurs seemed to be paying particular attention to Rurik for some reason.

For ten minutes, they waited more or less in silence, waiting upon the Duke’s return and sipping wine.  When he finally returned, a serious looking elf wearing a shiny breastplate and the Duke’s colors followed him into the dining hall.  “I’d like to introduce Captain Tanavue Silverleaf, head of my griffon riders.”  The elf nodded curtly.  He seemed to give each a deeply appraising look, as if trying to discern their worthiness on appearance alone.

Duke Gosswall continued.  “I’ve spoken with Captain Silverleaf about potentially lending you use of some of my riders for a short time to complete your task.  Now, I don’t generally do this sort of thing and I would expect a form of direct compensation.  Granted, I have an interest in some of what the dwarves of Mt. Goldforge could possibly have to offer…and I will speak with the trader Mr. Aberdeen about this.  As more of an upfront payment for use of my riders, I have something else in mind.  Captain Silverleaf?”

The elf stepped forward, standing rigidly.  “At this time of year we always embark on a mission of some delicacy and danger.  The griffons that live on the cliffs to the north of the city are nearing the end of their nesting cycle.  We try to collect a couple eggs just prior to hatching so that we can raise them from chicks.  They are much easier to train this way.  Collecting the eggs without harming the parents, however, can be quite a challenge.  With the few wizards and clerics in the area still wary of association with the government of Water Break these days, we could use your group’s unique mix of talents in this endeavor.”

“If successfully completed,” the Duke said, “I will lend you enough riders for you and Mr. Aberdeen to make the trip to New Selmar and Mt. Goldforge and back.”

The group talked amongst themselves for a few minutes.  The Duke’s request for some form of compensation seemed reasonable, and they lacked any substantial monetary funds to attempt any other approach.  And, the task didn’t seem unduly risky.  So they agreed to the Duke’s terms.

“Very well,” Captain Silverleaf said.  “I will collect a couple of my men and the necessary gear.  We will leave later this afternoon for Vineyard Pass to the north.  From there, it is most of a day’s trip to the north to the griffons’ traditional nesting grounds.  We will provide most of the basic supplies.  You just show up in the courtyard with your gear and horses, say at three hours past noon.”

They were dismissed and led by servants back to the front hall of the keep.  Chamberlain Moonhope met them there and saw to the return of their equipment.  The group noted that Kisty, in her guise as an older gnome, was hanging around again.  The Chamberlain pulled Rurik aside once he had his gear.

“Father Rurik,” she said.  “Would you accompany me to my office for a moment?”  He gave her a puzzled look but followed along.  Her office was a tidy and small affair just off the main hall.  She stepped around her desk, opened a locked drawer, and withdrew a simple scroll case.  It was sealed in red wax but bore no markings or imprint.

“What’s this?” Rurik asked when she handed it to him.

“I have no idea,” she said.  “It came to be in my possession through a string of anonymous couriers.  When it reached me, I was simply asked to give it to the dwarven priest, should he return to the keep.  I can only assume it was intended for you, as it came after your first visit and there is a noticeable shortage of other dwarven priests in this area.”

He nodded and then asked if he could read it in private.  She stepped out of the office, but waited just outside with the door open.  Rurik broke the seal and withdrew a single sheet of rolled up paper.  The message was written in rugged handwriting.  The characters were mostly dwarven.  The words were partly dwarven and partly something else.  He recognized it as the same ancient form of dwarven as that found in the book Kisty had come into possession of.  Without wasting time to try to decipher it out now, he returned it to the case.

It was already early afternoon and the group decided that they really had nothing else to do in town for the next hour or two before they were to meet up with the Captain.  So, they found a quiet inn nearby to have a couple quiet drinks and pass some time.  Rurik took this chance to pull out the note he’d been given and ask Zalman if he could get out their enchanted candle.

Placing the candle in the center of the table and lighting it, the words on the note became readable to all:

“Devout cleric of Moraein, 

“A number of your faithful followers are trapped within the ruins of Kladish.  Foul beasts roam the city and only under the temple of Tol can we find haven.  Only a true cleric of Moraein, or another of his pantheon, can show us the way home.

“Bring caution, strength of arm, and faith, for this has become a dangerous place.  Travel north of the city about fifteen derr along the coast until you spot the twin spires.  There is one cave at water and another much above.  Avoid the high one for it is home to the most horrid of creatures.  The human-monsters may also have an entrance, but of this I know no details.

“Please forgive our assumptions, but we are in most desperate need.  Yours humbly.”


Zalman extinguished and repacked the candle.  “What is Moraein?” he asked Rurik.

“I’m not sure,” the dwarf said.  “But it wouldn’t be a bad guess to say that it’s the ancient name for Moradin.  Would explain why the note was directed to me…what with my holy symbol blazoned across my shield.”

“Okay, makes sense,” Nigel said.  “But what is Kladish?”

“Or Tol?”

“And what the heck is a ‘derr’?”

“I’m not sure of the answer to any of those questions,” Rurik said.  He considered that this could be the connection to the mysterious quest the old dwarf had given him some two months ago while he was watching camp one night.  The dwarf had told him that there were loyal followers in need of his help, somewhere in the direction they were already heading.  He hadn’t told his friends about the visitor from that night, and he chose not to reveal it just yet.

“That Kladish sounds suspicious,” Zalman said.  “Think about it.  Someone hires Kisty’s sister to find something.  She hires the Shadow, who goes hundreds of miles to steal this ancient book from the dwarves of Mt. Goldforge.  The page that was marked mentioned that the dwarves fled from ‘Kladish.’  It must have been an ancient city.  My guess is that someone is looking for Kladish, and wherever it is, it must not be too far from here.”

“And from this note,” Rurik added.  “It sounds like there are dwarves trapped there.  I wonder if they’ve been there since the city fell all those generations ago.”

“But if they got this note out to you,” Zalman pointed out, “then they must not be all that trapped.”

They discussed it further over their drinks.  They agreed that someone associated with Misty and the Thieves’ Guild was looking for this Kladish.  They might be after the Adonix, the thing mentioned in passing in the book.  Rurik was convinced that dwarves were either trapped or captive in Kladish and that it was ultimately his responsibility to rescue them.  However, until they knew what a ‘derr’ was, even finding the place might prove very difficult.

The group concluded that they would take the following actions.  First, go get the griffon eggs so they could get use of the riders.  Second, fly to New Selmar and then to Mt. Goldforge.  While there, they’d return the book and ask the lore keepers for advice and guidance on the matter, and see if anyone could shed some light on Kladish, the Adonix, and what a ‘derr’ was.  After that, they’d then decide how to proceed with Rurik’s mission to rescue those who had sent him the note.



Next session:  Wyveryns and griffons and eagles, oh my!


----------



## Rybaer

Okay, so I didn't get all the way to Zalman's live-fire duel in this last post.  My apologies.  Next time...

The note that Rurik received was the basis for a good chunk of the next several months of gaming.  It was also the source of a few good and a few bad assumptions on the part of the group.  Now that they're just wrapping it up in real time, I'm sure a bunch of the clues that were dropped back here where this storyhour currently is will start to make more sense.

Thankfully, Rurik was sufficiently lawful-good and properly stubborn dwarven to lead the rest of the party ever onward to this single goal.  The rest were ready to give up on several occasions.


----------



## Amblin

Amblin in: The wizard war at Lohna's did not happen exactly as discribed. I recall a rendering of flesh and bone, twice. Once by beast, once by plant, but then again even the Gods make mistakes. This is where legends are born. As for readers wanting character stats. At this time I'm a very young human male. First time away from anywhere. Starting to realize the strength of focus my teacher tried to bestow apon me, but not quite there yet. Very intent on getting trade routes set up for New Selmar. This is my commission to worth. Hey one other thing, the player sometimes drinks a LOT then rambles on in his posts. Just so ya'll know. I lost track of my own point. Maybe next time.


----------



## Zalman

The fight with the wizard at Lohna’s was the first time that I went toe-to-toe with another wizard.  It was a good experience.  I had just hit 6th level and had a new cache of spells that I had gotten from my new guild and I was itching to try some out.  Using my Knowledge-Spellcraft I was able to ascertain that the mage I was up against was probably at least 8th level.  Aside from Amblin having to use his last fate point we did fairly well.  Unfortunately we blew up another wall.  You will recall that we also blew up a wall in an inn we had been to just a few sessions ago.  (Later on when having discussions about naming our group the suggestion “Wall Slayers” came up since this moniker would fit)   

I thought it was incredibly presumptuous of us to stride up to the Duke and ask if we could borrow his Griffons because it would be awfully inconvenient if we had to WALK all the way back to New Selmar.  I kept my pie-hole shut, though.  I had been giving Nigel some verbal jabs lately about being our designated leader but not being able to lead a thirsty dwarf to ale much less lead our party anywhere.  The general consensus was that the griffons would be a good idea, Nigel led us to the palace and I went along – quietly.  I decided to reward his positive actions by just shutting up.  (okay, I can here the hail storm of “finally” coming from all you guys.)    Much to my chagrin, the duke accepted.  I had a potion of invisibility and the fly spell, how hard could it be to take some eggs from a couple of griffons?

Of course, the problem was coming back - but I'll let Rybaer tell you about that.


----------



## Rybaer

Session #11.6 - Bagging some birds


The group assembled in the courtyard with Captain Tanavue Silverleaf and two more of his riders, both elven.  Introductions were made all around and the group set off.  Once they were through the North Gate and heading toward Vineyard Pass, Tanavue explained the basic tactics employed in attaining griffon eggs.  They had an extra horse with them - an old, decrepit one - that would be used as bait for the nesting pair.  Once the griffons came down on the horse, Nigel and anyone else skilled in bow use would hit the griffons with drugged arrows to knock them unconscious.  While the arrows were pulled out to prevent permanent injury, the others would be responsible for fetching some, but not all, of the eggs from the nest - which was usually perched upon a tall spire of rock common along the cliffs to the north of town.  Zalman volunteered his spellcasting abilities, suggesting that he could quickly fly up to the nest. The Captain seemed satisfied with the plan.

They reached the Countess Lohna's estate shortly before sunset.  Linnea had been expecting guests (Tannavue had sent riders ahead to announce his arrival and intent to stay the night), but was surprised when most of the egg-hunting party was comprised of Lohna's guests from the previous night.  She led them to their rooms, though most were different ones from the previous night as the repairs to the outside wall were far from complete.

An hour later, the Captain and the rest of the company were summoned to dinner with Lohna.  No other unexpected, or extraplanar, guests arrived this evening.  Lohna expressed her delight in seeing everyone again, particularly Nigel.  The group, in return, expressed their gratitude for her hospitality and promised to try not to cause any further damage to her house.  Captain Silverleaf insisted on getting the story of the previous night's events.

Dinner was a pleasant affair and the conversation was varied.  Silverleaf seemed a charming enough sort, though a bit stiff.  When he learned that Nigel was a budding young Arcane Archer, his respect for the elf and his friends grew considerably.  The captain begged off early to get some rest in preparation for a hard day to follow.  Everyone else aside from Nigel followed suit, sleeping as best they could.  Nigel was invited to spend some more intimate time with Lohna in her private chamber.

(The players who believe Lohna is a vampire, which is most of them, figure Nigel has been dominated and was off for a quick feeding.  Nigel insists it was nothing of the sort.)

Everyone assembled, loaded their horses with supplies and gear, and were off just before dawn.  They rode up the coastline, moving quickly but cautiously.  Captain Silverleaf informed them that this was very wild and dangerous country.  Several ogre tribes lived in the area and other unpleasant creatures were known to roam freely.

Shortly after noon, while pausing to eat and rest the horses, the distant echo of steel on steel carried over the crashing of ocean waves on the base of the cliffs below them.  Leaving the horses behind, the group slipped quietly up a hill and found a small skirmish raging in the distance.  The elves' sharp eyes made out about a dozen ogres squaring off against a trio of minotaurs.  There appeared to be a couple minotaurs already on the ground.  These minotaurs, they noted, had reddish-brown fur as opposed to the unusual gray fur sported by the Duke's guards.  The group watched for another minute and then decided to fetch the horses and continue on their journey, doing their best to avoid the ogre band.

By mid afternoon, the Captain led them further inland and into a narrow canyon in the broken hills.  He told them that this was where they had left their horses the last few years while fetching griffon eggs.  Riding horses all the way to the nest, with the griffons' reputed taste for horseflesh, would be a liability.  They led the sacrificial horse and continued up the coast on foot.

Kisty, who had been keeping up the ruse of aging gnome servant, approached Zalman about an hour later.  "Zalman," she said in a hushed tone.  "What do you make of this?"  She pointed up in the air, just above and behind her shoulder.

Zalman was perplexed until he finally noticed a slight shimmering in the air above her, a localized pocket of irregularity that was scarcely noticable.  While his magic training had glossed over the divination arts, he was fairly certain that this was a scrying sensor.  He motioned for her to keep quiet and the rest of the party started to take note of something going on between the wizard and the halfling.  Zalman quietly and calmly explained that someone was likely scrying on them and that they should keep quiet.  After a few minutes, the sensor winked out.

After a thorough search around the rest of the party failed to reveal any further sensors, Zalman explained his suspicions.  Given how badly Misty and the Shadow seemed to want to get their hands on Kisty, no one was particularly surprised that a wizard or cleric might be brought in to help find her.  They agreed to avoid speaking openly about anything that could give pursuers any additional hints as to their location.  Kisty and the others continued to keep a close watch for the subtle shimmer in the air around them.

Another hour or two later, with a few hours of daylight left, Nigel spotted a pair of giant winged creatures moving quickly in their direction.  It was clear from their approach that the group had already been spotted.  Everyone took what cover they could in the rocky terrain, behind boulders and under scrub bushes.  As the creatures closed, Captain Silverleaf identified them as wyverns.  

The two dragon-kin swept in low and fast and the collective group unleashed every ranged attack they could muster.  Nigel plunked arrow after arrow with deadly accuracy and brutal results.  The rest of the elves used their crossbows and shortbows and even Amblin borrowed a light crossbow and launched a couple bolts.  Zalman used his newly acquired wand and unleashed a pair of lightning bolts.  The lead wyvern crumpled under the assault just before it reached their position.  The second one had zeroed in on one of the younger griffon riders and plucked him from behind his meager cover.  The elf shrieked as the wyvern's claws sank through his armor and the poisoned tail hit him repeatedly.  As the wyvern continued past the group, prize in hand, the hail of arrows and spells finally proved too much and the beast crashed into the ground.  Rurik hurried to the fallen elf with the other griffon riders, but it was clear that he was too far-gone for healing magic to save.  Dejected, the group hastily constructed a cairn from the abundant rocks in the area and then hastened to complete their mission before night fell.

With the sun poised to set, they finally spotted a griffon wheeling about over the ocean.  A number of rocky spires rose up from both the ground and the water in this area.  Moving with the contour of the land to get closer without being spotted, they finally identified the griffons' nest on the edge of the cliff.  Zalman cast Fly on himself and moved further up the coast with Rurik and Kisty in tow.  Captain Silverleaf distributed the drugged arrows and bolts - specially designed to deliver a strong dosage without causing much physical harm.  They then chose a suitable clearing and set the bait horse out while taking up concealed positions around it.

Only one of the griffons had been spotted so far, circling about the nest.  They hoped that the other was sufficiently out of the way so as not to interfere with Zalman fetching the eggs.  Finally, the circling griffon spotted the old horse.  With a shrill cry, it dove toward the clearing.  Zalman took this opportunity to slip over the edge of the cliff so he could approach from below the nest.  As he flew closer, he realized that the other griffon had been circling around just above the surface of the water.  When the first griffon cried out, however, the second quickly rose to see what had aroused it.  It failed to notice the flying human who hugged the side of the cliff.

As the first griffon tore into the horse, Nigel and the riders let fly with several drugged arrows.  All hit their mark and the griffon was unconscious within moments.  The horse, injured in the first attack, was finished off when the second griffon dove in recklessly.  Again, peppered with arrows, it was soon unconscious.  The elves hastily pulled the arrows from the griffons and then hurried back south along the coast.  Zalman flew quickly over to the nest and was surprised to find five large eggs in the nest.  The Captain had told him to expect two to four, and to leave at least one egg behind.  Given the size of the clutch, he chose to slip three into the straw-filled bag provided by the riders and leave two behind.  Prize in hand, he returned to the waiting Rurik and Kisty, and together they hurried south.

The group put a couple miles between themselves and the griffons before they finally called a halt for the night.  The sun had already set and it was another couple hours hike back to the horses.  In the rugged terrain, hiking in the dark would be unnecessarily risky.  Zalman summoned a Leomund's Secure Shelter and they fixed up a warm dinner.  Captain Silverleaf expressed his gratitude for their assistance and his joy at finding such a large clutch of eggs.  The overall mood was dour, however, for the loss of one of the riders in the endeavor.

Due to the dangerous nature of the region and the fear of encountering whoever was behind the scrying on Kisty, double watches were posted.  The first half of the night passed quietly.  An hour or two past midnight, while Nigel was on watch with one of the riders, a figure approached from out of the darkness.  Nigel had taken up a perch on the roof and was startled when Lohna climbed up over the side and joined him.

"Uh, hi," he said.  "What are you doing here?"  The other question he wanted answered - how she found them - went unasked.

"Well, I caught wind of some strange folk passing through town earlier today and figured I should check it out," she said.  "It's almost unheard of for people to travel north of Vineyard Pass.  This group was large, perhaps a dozen in total, and well armed and equipped.  Sounded kinda funny.  And with the number of people interested in you and your friends these days, I thought I'd investigate."

"That was thoughtful of you," was all Nigel could manage in his flustered state.

"Anyway," she continued.  "I tracked the group back to that little draw where you left your horses.  Looks like they decided to camp there for the night.  Aside from some guards, they were sleeping and I couldn't pick up anything of who they were or what they wanted.  It did look like they might be planning on ambushing you guys there, though.  You might want to be careful or avoid them altogether."

"Hmmm, yeah, sounds like a good idea," Nigel said.  "I'll bring it up to the others in the morning."

"Hope they don't give you too much trouble," Lohna said.  "I should get going.  I'm going to have to hurry to make it back before dawn.  Take care."  She gave him a quick kiss and slipped silently back over the edge of the roof.  Moments later, she was gone.

Nigel finished his watch and the rest of the night passed uneventfully.  Wary of scrying, he quietly told the others of Lohna's visit and what she'd told him of the other group possibly waiting in ambush.  They told the two griffon riders of their concerns about returning to fetch their horses at this time, though they couldn't elaborate on who this other group might be because they honestly didn't know.  The Captain had come to trust them enough on this trip to take them at their word, though.  After discussing options, they settled on a plan.  Zalman would summon mounts for the two riders to take back to town with the eggs.  They would cut inland a bit so as to avoid any possible confrontation.  The others would move down the coast as quickly as they could, hopefully evading the other party.  While they packed up their gear, Kisty spotted the scrying sensor again.  She pointed it out casually to the others and everyone was careful to avoid giving up useful information until it disappeared again.

As soon as the sensor disappeared, the griffon riders mounted their summoned steeds and hurried off east and then south.  The rest gathered up their gear and moved hastily south along the cliffs over the ocean.  For several hours, things were uneventful.  They pushed themselves hard, taking advantage of the relative coolness of the summer morning.  Shortly after a brief pause for lunch, they spotted a large eagle of some sort circling high overhead.  Something in its nature, however, tipped them off that this was probably not a natural bird.  It seemed to be following them.  Zalman suspected that it was a wizard's familiar, spying on them much in the same manner that he often used Hooty to scout ahead.

While the others continued to hold course south, Zalman volunteered to cast Fly on himself and go chase off the eagle.  The eagle was a good half-mile up and nearly that far inland from their current position.  With the speed of his Fly spell, however, Zalman was able to close the distance quickly.  The eagle, it turned out, was actually a giant eagle.  As he approached, however, it transformed before his eyes into a gargoyle, which promptly began to cast a spell.  It was at this moment that Zalman realized he'd gotten himself into more than he'd bargained for - he was up against an unknown polymorphed wizard, all alone, some three thousand feet above the rocky ground.

The gargoyled wizard conjured a Minor Globe of Invulnerability.  "Uh oh," Zalman thought to himself.  That pretty much negated most everything he could hope to cast against the other wizard, and told him that the opposition was likely more skilled in magic than he was.

A few other things went through Zalman's mind at this point.  First, this guy was likely part of the group hunting them down, and therefore he was not to be trusted.  Second, there was a decent chance he was affiliated with the halfling wizard who'd tried to kill them a couple nights previously - also a reason to fear him.  Third, he really wanted to discourage this guy from following them down the coast and leading the rest of the thugs into a fight with his friends.  So, in an unusually risky move, Zalman decided to try to wait out the wizard's Globe.

The wizard, hovering within his magic haven, decided to make the first move and hit Zalman with a Dispell Magic, knocking out his Fly spell.  Zalman went into free fall.  With nerves of steel (and a hugely beneficial Concentration skill), he managed to cast polymorph on himself and followed the other wizard's lead in selecting the form of a gargoyle.  Seriously annoyed, Zalman started circling back up but intended to keep a bit more distance.

The other wizard seemed content to wait out Zalman from his Globe.  Zalman wasn't sure if the other simply had nothing useful to cast against him or was just waiting him out.  Given the nature of the Globe, Zalman had but one spell that could harm the other wizard, so he cast it.  He summoned forth a small air elemental and sent it to harass the other wizard.  The elemental proved to be more of a nuisance than a threat, however, and the other wizard countered by summoning a pair of giant bats.  The bats made short work of the elemental and then went after Zalman, who had already put a bit more distance between himself and the wizard.  Using his new wand of lightning to good effect, the bats were taken out before they could close the distance to him.

Around this time, the Globe finally winked out and the other wizard settled upon a simple lightning bolt to remind Zalman of his presence.  Zalman cast a Shield spell to give him some cover and returned fire.  Lightning, magic missiles, and other spells flew back and forth for a short while with neither mage gaining a clear advantage and both suffering injury.  Nigel, from nearly half a mile away, could just make out the flashes of lightning dancing between the two figures.  He and the others were worried for Zalman but pressed on.  

Finally, Zalman decided he'd had enough.  He was badly injured and didn't feel that sacrificing himself would gain his friends anything, so he flew off back toward the coast.  He hoped that if the other wizard followed, his friends would be ready to welcome him.  Fortunately, the other wizard decided that he'd had enough as well and flew off in the opposite direction.  As Zalman recapped the encounter to his companions, Rurik healed his injuries.  Zalman counted himself lucky to have escaped an unexpected duel with a superior wizard - even if it was a draw.

They assumed that the other wizard would go back to his companions, who were undoubtedly on horseback, and inform them of their current location.  By any reasonable estimate, there was no way they could make it back to Lohna's without being overtaken.  Zalman told the others that he'd be in gargoyle form for a while yet, and with his flying speed he might just be able to make it most of the way back before it wore off.  With his magically gifted ability to carry unusually heavy loads, he guessed he could carry another person...aside from possibly Rurik.  From the Guild wizards, they'd purchased a potion of Fly.  Doing some quick estimates, they still couldn't fly everyone back to Lohna's between the one potion and Zalman's gargoyle form.  Amblin, given his incredible speed and endurance, and borrowing Rurik's Boots of Leaping and Springing, volunteered to go by land.

Rurik drank down the potion of Fly and carried Kisty.  Zalman carried Nigel.  Amblin ran cross-country.  In little more than an hour, all five were back at Lohna's.  It was mid-afternoon and Linnea was surprised to see them back so soon.  She quickly noted that the horses were missing, as were the griffon riders.  They gave her a short version of what had transpired.  Linnea told them that they were welcome to their guestrooms and that food and drink were available.  It would be some time before Lohna rose for the night.  In light of the scrying Kisty had endured, Zalman proposed that he erect a Leomund's Secure Shelter around the back of Lohna's property. For both her safety and that of the others, Zalman recommended that Kisty stay there for the rest of the day and night.  Anyone scrying on her would simply find her lounging around a simple room and would learn nothing of her true location.  Rurik volunteered to keep her company.

Captain Silverleaf and the other griffon rider arrived later in the afternoon and were quite surprised to find that they'd been beaten back.  He was distressed to hear of Zalman's encounter but relieved to hear that they'd all made it back.  He and his companion had encountered no problems in their ride back.  He told them that there was still enough time to make the ride back to Water Break before dark, and if they went now they could make plans to leave by griffon for New Selmar early the next morning.  Given the hassles that had been following them around the last couple days, they readily agreed.

Rurik and Kisty were brought back from the Secure Shelter and everyone mounted up on borrowed horses from Lohna's stable.  Linnea told them that the Duke's staff could arrange for the horses to be returned tomorrow.  She expressed regret that they'd have to leave again before Lohna could wake to see them off, but she promised to relate their tale to the Countess.

By dusk, the group had reached the Duke's keep in Water Break and Captain Silverleaf saw to it that they were given a relatively secure room in a quiet wing of the Keep.  While they still feared the reach of the wizard(s) following them and of Misty's Thieves' Guild, it was still somewhat comforting to have thick stone walls and dozens of guards all about them.

A messenger was dispatched to find the trader Trevor Aberdeen and to inform him that the expedition to New Selmar would leave by dawn the next morning.  It wasn't much notice, but they felt it couldn't be helped.  Everyone felt a driving urge to leave the city as soon as possible.


Next session: Homecoming at long last...


----------



## Rybaer

My recollection of the duel between Zalman and the mystery wizard up in the sky is regrettably hazy.  As a DM, I was shocked when Z decided to go fly up to the "eagle" and chase it off.  The wizard was considerably tougher than Zalman and it would be particularly lethal so high in the air.  Had Zalman not made a rather difficult concentration roll to cast polymorph while in free fall, he'd have died.  Nothing like making an all-or-nothing roll for your character's life.

If Z or any of the other players can chime in with more details of this duel, by all means do so.  I know it was a lot of cat and mouse maneuvering, but many of the details elude me.


----------



## Zalman

*Wheeeee!  *

Getting the eggs from the Griffon's was not that bad, but the Wyvern thing was a little rough.  If I remember correctly, I used my immovable staff as kind of a make-shift shield.  I put it between me and the attacking Wyverns and took a couple of steps back. (hoping if they came at me they would hit the staff first)  Anyway, Wyverns = Zalman's Life Threatening Experience #18.  (how long had we been away from home? 8 - 10 weeks?)

Rybaer, as always you got most of it - the important stuff, anyway.  Like you said it was pretty much a waiting game.  He waited for me to do something, I waited for his globe to wear off.  I wasn't sacrificing myself, but I remembered we were all pretty worried about the large party hunting us.  I decided that if I could distract the wizard long enough for the party to get some road between them and the wizard fight that would be the best I could do for them.  I knew I was outmatched, out gunned and probably a gonner, but when you roll those darn dice for a reaction and they tell you that your character is feeling unnaturally brave... well, what are you going to do?


----------



## Zalman

*..and for the record*

I would just like to state, for the record, that I do not think that Lohna is actually a vampire.  While that flashed through my head when we first found out she is only awake at night I had reconsidered my opinion.  

1 - She is friends with Leonels from the Plane of Law; very un-vamp like.

2 - She eats - food.  Vamps can't eat food.  They are undead and thier bodies can no longer do anything with it.

3 - We lived through the night without losing large amounts of blood.  Always a positive.

Of course, Rybaer, this doesn't prevent me from making all the out of character groans, gags, and nervous laughs out of character.  It is really funny to see you roll your eyes everytime we make a comment about that.


----------



## Tuerny

Sounds like a fun session. 
How far away are you from catching up?


Zalman, what do you think she is then?


----------



## Rybaer

Tuerny said:
			
		

> *Sounds like a fun session.
> How far away are you from catching up?
> 
> 
> Zalman, what do you think she is then? *





We're quickly getting closer to caught up, though I can't say exactly how many posts it'll take to get there.  6-8 maybe?


And as for Lohna, I love to alternate between dropping very vampire-like clues with very un-vampire-like clues.  Certainly keeps them guessing.


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## Zalman

*...nah...*

I reiterate - I don't think she is a vampire.  Rybaer is just playing the " Well, if it looks like a vampire, smells like a vampire, then..." game right back at us.  I think she is what she presents herself as.  A female Elf that was the victim of some magic that went awry, nothing more.


----------



## Amblin

*Egg hunt*

Amblin in: Go on an egg hunt? eh whatever. Get back to New S. faster with trade posibilities, way key. I liked the fact that these guys did there best not to hurt the griffons, and wouldn't clean them out of eggs. And I knew how they felt losing a friend. It bites. Now the Z man suprised me. I didn't see any of the fight, but what I heard he played all his bravido cards in a lay down. I had figured he was just gonn'a be den mother the whole trip. Whining and picking ever little thing. "Put your shoes on, wash you hands, you are not gonn'a go play in that stream" Bla bla bla. I guess when you threaten a hens chicks she gets mean. Other then that it was a nice jog back, and I really like thoughs boots. Heres a "For the record" I don't know what a vampire is, but I'm pretty sure Nigel is getting something s*****, and liking it. Amblin over.


----------



## Zalman

*Den Mother*

Den Mother?!?!? Uh, riiiiight... I'm just trying to keep myself from getting killed.  Remember that LAWFUL part of my alignment?  If you flip back on the calander the only thing that I have had a beef about is all of the UN-LAWFUL (read: Chaotic) things that have happened in the party.  I think we had this discussion last week, so I'm not going to dwell on old-shlt.

I think this may be more of a Ted:Bink issue that we need to talk about rather than an Amblin:Zalman issue.  If you have something to say, let's take a few before the game and get it out, man.  I'm not trying to start anything, but it has been brought up to me by others that this dynamic seems to be more between us than our characters.

Good Friends, Good Times.  Right?


----------



## Rurik

I have some catching up to do.

First of all...walking into Lohnna's place and seeing our reflection was startling.  I knew what everyone else looked like, I just didn't realize how much I seem to have aged.  I guess travel and trouble put together can do that to you.  The house was beautiful and the company was interesting.  The lion guys were very wise and a very attentive audience.

I am getting tired of being ambushed every time we get to stay in a comfy place, though.  It just proves to us that we are hunted, and makes true relaxation impossible.

Those big gorilla bastards were really not nice.  But, they were no match for my axe.  I do believe one of them got a good piece of Amblin and made a bit of a mess of him.  The tentacles then finished him off.  Rending damage sucks.

Going after the mage was not something I was very prepared to do, but I had little choice.  We had to deal with him one way or another, and if I had to take a hit to make him show hisself...well...anything I can do to help.  

We felt terrible about the damage to the house, but at least we weren't run out of town this time.  Lohnna was very gracious and understanding about the whole thing.


----------



## Rurik

*The Duke*

When we went to ask the Duke to use his griffons, none of us had very high hopes, but we figured we had nothing to lose.  When we got to have lunch with him, again, I was a bit suprised.  When he agreed to let us use his griffons, I was amazed.  

I felt a little useless for the trip to get the eggs, but I knew we would probably need some healing.  After all...when was the last time we did anything and didn't?  So I tagged along trying to stay out of the way...untill we came across the wyverns.  Then I hid and tried to stay out of the way.

Once the eggs were safely on their way, I did try to get the party to flank and attack the group of people waiting for us, that is where I could be of use.  I, of course, was unanimously voted down.  Probably a good thing. 

One thing I didn't like, was the fact I couldn't see the scrying thingy.  At least we didn't get ambushed this time.


----------



## Dyme

Nigel Notes:

Not really a whole lot to add for color right now. Getting attacked by wyverns was interesting… we'd never seen them before. Stealing eggs from large flying things was also a new experience. Meeting a countess that really digs you in more than just a professional way is, of course, the most kool.

I think they're just jealous. That's why they're coming up with this vampire nonsense. Like they have any clue what a vampire is to begin with.   

I know Nigel thought the whole idea of asking the Duke to use the griffons to get back to N.S. was a really dumb idea and had absolutely no chance of success… even tho a Rybaer-run NPC gave us the idea. Eh.

After Z told Nigel about the eagle, Nigel did tell him to "Go take it out." We both assumed it was a familiar… or according to Nigel, something like that owl that follows Zalman around. Well, you know what they say about people who assume.

If we had _any_ idea what Rurik's little quest was _really_ going to entail, we would have told him to pack sand right there in the Duke's keep before we even started. But I get ahead of the story…..


----------



## Zalman

> If we had any idea what Rurik's little quest was really going to entail, we would have told him to pack sand right there in the Duke's keep before we even started. But I get ahead of the story…..




I'm lost on the "pack sand" reference.  I hope it is something like "go push a rope" or "take a long walk off a short pier" and that it has nothing to do with fudge or a jail or some large sweaty guy named Bunny.


----------



## Rybaer

Zalman said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I'm lost on the "pack sand" reference.  I hope it is something like "go push a rope" or "take a long walk off a short pier" and that it has nothing to do with fudge or a jail or some large sweaty guy named Bunny.   *





Sounds like a build-a-bunker to hide in reference.  With so many folks constantly trying to kill y'all, waiting them out in a defensible place of your own choosing might be an attractive option.

Game on tonight!


----------



## Bommer

*Pack sand?*

I suppose, “pack sand” could be a rare elfish colloquialism for “You could get there sooner by encumbering yourself with sand because I enthusiastically do not desire to go with you on this quest”.  

But, what the hell do I know.


----------



## Rybaer

Session #11.7 – A brief homecoming


Everyone assembled in one of the keep’s courtyards just before dawn the following morning.  Due to weight restrictions, much of the group’s non-essential gear had to be left behind in a secure locker.  Rurik refused to leave his armor and shield, but was placated when Kisty allowed him to store both in her Bag of Holding…as well as the group’s small treasure chest.  Trevor Aberdeen, dressed for travel and carrying a satchel full of maps, contracts, and other business papers, joined them.

Captain Silverleaf introduced those riders who would be flying them out to New Selmar and Mt. Goldforge.  One extra griffon would be brought along for supplies, bringing the total to seven – just under half of the Duke’s total force.  One of the riders opened up a small steel box and offered it around to everyone.  Within were Rings of Featherfall, one of which was issued to each of the guest riders for their safety should something unforeseen happen.  Everyone was happy with this arrangement.

Within a few minutes, everyone’s gear was securely stowed and the griffons were mounted.  The flight began just as dawn broke over the Thunder Bay.  With short breaks to rest the mounts every couple hours, the days passed quickly.  Trevor consulted his old trade route maps against the landscape and occasionally scribbled in notes about what he saw and possible changes to the caravan’s course.  The nights were uneventful – apparently few things in the wilderness were really hungry enough to try dealing with a dozen armed humanoids and over half a dozen trained griffons.

With one exception, everyone began to relax and enjoy the flight.  It was easy traveling and the higher altitude air was cooler and drier than the ordinary muggy summer haze on the ground.  The view was spectacular and there was little risk of attack.  The one exception was Rurik.  He began to feel ill late on the first day out of Water Break.  Each day out, he began to feel more and more ill, though he couldn’t specify a single symptom.  It felt more like all his energy was drained.  He tried calling upon Moradin to purge himself of this ailment, but the prayers seemed to have no effect.  Being a typical dwarf, he tried to suck it up and not tell the others.

By the fourth day out, Rurik’s ailment was becoming obvious to everyone.  The dwarf was pale and feverish, only able to stay on his griffon’s saddle because he was strapped to it.  The others were worried about him but could render no aid.  Their first stop would be a brief one at Shadykin’s in about a day, and they hoped the wise old gnome might shed some light on Rurik’s condition.

The stop at Shadykin’s turned out to be a very brief one indeed.  The rescued villagers were still busy reconstructing the school and Shadykin was working right alongside them.  All welcomed the group back, surprised by their arrival on griffons.  The group spared only a few short minutes to sum up some of their adventures since leaving, and explained their purpose in returning on the griffons.  Trevor briefly spoke with Shadykin and a couple of the villagers on matters of supplies and trade.  Shadykin then looked over the now unconscious Rurik.  He knew little of disease, but suspected that the dwarf’s condition may not be natural in origin.  He suggested that clerics might be much more useful than he could hope to be.

The riders took off again for New Selmar.  They had to pause for the night at about the halfway point between Shadykin’s and New Selmar.  Everyone was restless, both for being so close to home again after a couple very rough months on the road and because of Rurik’s deteriorating condition.  There were a few clerics in New Selmar, including Rurik’s uncle.  They hoped one could shed some light on his ailment.

Shortly after noon the next day, they spotted the settlement of New Selmar and the ruins of Old Selmar.  People started to scatter as the griffons circled and landed in the central courtyard before Lord Andren’s small keep.  When people started to recognize Zalman, Nigel, Rurik and Amblin, cheers arose.  The fancy uniforms that the elvish griffon riders wore also impressed the gathered crowd.  Word spread through the city like wildfire and soon it seemed that the entire three thousand inhabitants had gathered in the courtyard.

Zalman oversaw that Rurik’s unconscious form was quickly delivered to his uncle’s house.  His uncle was shocked at the sight of the dwarf and ordered him brought inside and laid upon a table in the small chapel on the first floor.  He asked several pointed questions of Zalman and then asked for privacy while he worked on Rurik.  Zalman said he’d be back in a while to check on his friend.

Back in the central square, Nigel and Amblin introduced Trevor Aberdeen and Captain Tanavue Silverleaf to Lord Andren Murell.  Andren announced that a feast would be held that night to honor the return of their heroes, but that everyone should go about their business until then.  He then brought Trevor inside the keep to discuss matters of trade.  Nigel took responsibility for the griffon riders and led them over to the ranger’s barracks where they could tend to their mounts and settle in for their stay.

Amblin, meanwhile, thought he’d check in on his old master Chelis.  He had a few questions he wanted answered about his training and the School of the Springing Sphinx.  En route, however, Kardeen Ironjack, the head of the New Selmar militia, stopped him.  The brutish dwarf planted himself in Amblin’s path and demanded to know where Boaz was at as no one had seen the half-orc dismount with the others.  Amblin told of Boaz’s death rescuing several dozen people from a tomb filled with undead gnolls.  Kardeen listened to the tale and almost shed a tear.

“The boy died well, then,” Kardeen said.  “I’m sorry to have lost him so young, but there are few who will ever accomplish as much in their sacrifice.” Amblin agreed and the dwarf allowed him to continue his business.

Zalman, after seeing to Rurik, decided to visit his family.  On the way, though, he wanted to make a quick stop to say hi to Sangelais, his old master.  When he entered her house, three of his old apprentice comrades looked up and welcomed Zalman back.  After all that Zalman had been through in the last couple months, he suddenly felt so very old next to these other young apprentices.

“I’m on my way to visit my folks,” Zalman said, “but I thought I’d stop and say hello to Sangelais.  Is she in?”

The students looked back and forth at one another, hoping for someone else to do the talking.  Then a voice from another doorway:  “She died about a month ago, Zalman.”  It was Erling Task, the second best mage in the city behind Sangelais.  Zalman had never been too close to Erling, though he considered him a decent mage.  Now that he thought about it, Zalman figured he had probably eclipsed Erling’s skill over the last few months of regular practice in the field.

Sangelais’ death, however, hit Zalman hard.  “What happened?”

“She was out on a raid on an orc encampment,” Erling said.  “A stray arrow caught her in the throat.  She died almost instantly…long before a cleric could reach her.”  Zalman just looked at the floor in stunned silence.  “I’ve taken over teaching the students,” he continued, “though I’m a poor substitute for Sangelais.  I don’t know what you’re up to, Zalman, but your presence here wouldn’t hurt to bolster the city’s magic capacity.”

“Uh,” Zalman began.  “I don’t know.  I need time to think.”  The offer to stay was very tempting.  Life on the road had been hard and he’d had too many brushes with death to be very eager to return to that challenge.  However, Rurik was still set upon seeing through his mission to return the book to Mt. Goldforge, and Zalman wanted to help to the end of that.  Perhaps he’d return to New Selmar after the last leg of that episode.

Amblin finally reached his master’s hut.  Within, he heard the oh-so-familiar sound of a broom sweeping the floor.   Amblin decided to knock rather than just enter.  The sweeping paused and a young boy of no more than eight years or so answered.  

“Yes sir?” the boy asked.

Amblin did not recognize the boy, but that hardly surprised him.  While he’d been living here, he was rarely given much free time from his chores to meet the people of New Selmar.  “Uh, I’m looking for Master Chelis,” Amblin said.

“Master Chelis is out, sir,” the boy said.  “I do not know when he might be back.”

“Oh, I see.”  Amblin peeked inside the hut, mostly to see how well this boy was keeping the place clean.  Something about the fact that he’d been replaced so quickly after his departure from New Selmar bothered him.  “So, you’re Master Chelis’ new student then?”

“Yes sir,” the boy said, standing proudly.

“And he keeps you busy cleaning?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good,” Amblin said.  “You know, kid, when I was the student here, whenever I finished cleaning something I always left a tiny pinch of dust in the corner.  You know, to see if anyone noticed.”

The kid gave Amblin a very perplexed look.  After a moment, though, the look changed ever so subtly.  Though Amblin didn’t expect the kid to pick up his old habit, he felt that slight change in the kid’s look had planted just a bit of a rebellious seed in his fertile young mind.  Amblin felt he owed it both to the kid and his former master.

“Well, okay kid,” Amblin said.  “I suppose I should let you get back to cleaning.  Remember, a pinch of dust.”  The kid gave him a short bow and then closed the door.  The sound of sweeping resumed and Amblin walked away with a brief grin.

Zalman wandered off to his parent’s shop and house.  His entire family, much to his relief, was working in the store – all seemingly unchanged since the day he left.  Everyone warmly welcomed him back and was eager for news of his travels.  He tried to recount some of the tales, watering them down so as not to make them seem like they had been in mortal danger quite as many times as in reality.  Even still, his mother fretted over the risks and creatures they’d faced.  His father was proud, yet concerned for Zalman’s safety.  The family planned a large private dinner to continue the reunion.

While dinner was being prepared, Zalman took the chance to speak with his father over matters of trade.  He told him of Trevor Aberdeen and the possible opportunity to make a few private deals with him for certain goods.  Zalman also mentioned this wonderful new good that he’d encountered in Water Break – coffee.  Said it might be worth ordering a couple dozen pounds to see how well it would sell here.  Zalman, being a good son, also gave a considerable sum in loose gold to his parents (to help them with some trade agreements with Trevor).

Nigel generally had a relaxed good time with the griffon riders, showing them around a bit and then getting them fed at the mess hall.  Nigel and the Captain, however, were to eat dinner with Lord Andren and Trevor.  As the pair headed out to the keep, Bommer, a halfling scout that Nigel had worked with on occasion in New Selmar, walked up.

“Heya Nigel,” Bommer said.  “Good to see ya back!  I overheard some of your stories…sounds like you’ve been keeping yourself busy out there in the world.”

“Yeah,” Nigel said.  “Too busy, it seems.”

“And you got all the way to a big city?  What’s that like?”

“Honestly?  It wasn’t all that.  Lots of stuck up clerics in red robes and people trying to kill us on a regular basis.  Did meet a nice lady, though.”

“Oh, how I’d love to travel with you guys,” Bommer said.  “I’m getting tired of the same old stuff here.  Nothing but scouting out orc and hobgoblin camps.  Gets old fast.  Say, now that you’re one short in your group with Boaz gone, think I might be able to get hooked up with you?”

Nigel hadn’t really thought about replacing Boaz.  They’d done okay without him, but another pair of eyes and swords never hurt.  He didn’t know Bommer really well, but from what work they’d done together he was a competent scout.  He had sharp eyes and turned nearly invisible in the shadows.  “Tell you what,” Nigel began.  “Why don’t you check with Liuella (the Master Scout) and see if she’d be okay with it.  I’ll ask my companions how they’d feel about taking on another.  We’re flying by griffon, but I suspect they could handle an additional halfling.”

“Sounds good,” Bommer said.  “I’ll catch back up with you later.”

When Nigel and Captain Silverleaf arrived back at the keep, Amblin wandered in and ate with them.  Zalman never arrived, though everyone assumed he was either with Rurik or with his own family.  They’d check up on both him and Rurik after dinner.

(Amblin and Nigel were both pleased to learn during dinner that Twiggy, the goblin they’d “rescued” from the hobgoblins in Old Selmar, had landed a position as a lackey in the Lord’s kitchen.)

Lord Andren pressed Nigel and Amblin for details about their adventures and was constantly amazed by how much they had seen and done.  He expressed sorrow at Boaz’s death and concern over Rurik’s condition.  Dinner was otherwise plain fare and Nigel and Amblin soon excused themselves.

Everyone reassembled at Zalman’s folk’s house and they went together to check up on Rurik.  The dwarf’s uncle answered their knock and led them in to the chapel.

“Well,” the dwarf began, “I don’t right know what’s wrong with the boy.  He’s not responding to healing magic at all.  There’s reason to suspect magical is at the source, but it’s beyond my grasp.  It’s strange, but I almost feel like there is a link between the effect and Rurik’s faith.  I want you boys to tell me everything about what’s happened lately and who you’ve interacted with.”

They did their best to fill him in on their adventures.  The news about the stolen book from Mt. Goldforge particularly peaked his interest.  As did the cryptic message written in some archaic form of dwarven that Rurik had been given back in Water Break.  

“My suggestion to you,” the old dwarf said, “is to take Rurik to Mt. Goldforge with all haste.  I hope you’ll find better clerics than me there who can tend to his ailments.  I also suspect they’ll be able to shed more light on this Kladish place.”

Everyone agreed that with Rurik deteriorating quickly, they had little time to waste.  They would push Trevor to conclude his business tonight so they could leave first thing in the morning.  Nigel also brought up the subject of bringing Bommer along.  Everyone knew Bommer to one degree or another and knew that he had a good reputation among the scouts for his uncanny ability to walk into occupied orc camps and sneak back out with food swiped right off the spit of their campfires.  They agreed to bring him along if he wanted to join them.

They would leave by dawn for Mt. Goldforge.


Next session: The dwarves of Mt. Goldforge


----------



## Rybaer

I should point out that the addition of Bommer actually marks the return of Boaz's player after a several month hiatus.  He filled in some much needed skills (particularly with traps and, to a lesser extent, stealth) as Kisty was on her way out of the group by this time.  As a character, however, I think he was probably wondering just what he'd gotten himself into after a couple encounters.  Oh well.  I'll let him introduce the character a bit.


----------



## Amblin

*Back home?*

Amblin in: Getting back to New S. was a huge deal to me. Getting the griffons wasn't. Either he let us or not. I don't know what motivates a King to any action, but I'm not at all bothered by asking for help. Riding the griffons was cool. I like flying. I don't like riding. Maybe I got kicked as a child. I don't know. Seeing the kid sweeping was a reality slap. That was who I was, and I'm not him any more. So who am I. I did enjoy the subtle glint in his eyes when I passed on the dust ploy though. Many would say I'm irreverent/chaotic for a monk. Most likely true, but Chelis, I think understood this, and taught me accordingly. I was not raised to be a cloistered monk. I was raised to wander, wonder lust intact. To survive out there you can't take your self too seriously. Be true to your art, and your self, but the laws of man pertain to thoughs who chose to follow them. Be friendly. All will be well. I'm not sure if Rybaer is going to get to the conversation I had with Chelis or not, but again he taught me more whit what went unsaid then said, and I will be forever changed by the simple question "I thoght you were supposed to see the world?" I lost half my post in compust ingnorant. So I'll close with Amblin out


----------



## Rybaer

Doh.  Forgot that bit.  I had a feeling I'd overlooked something about the visit home.  

Anyway, Amblin finally did catch up with his old master Chelis.  Chelis is actually a middle-aged half-elf...not exactly your run-of-the-mill wisened monk.

I don't recall the conversation terribly well, but it was definitely not a warm, chatty reunion.  As Amblin put it, Chelis' reaction could best be summed up as:  "What are you doing here?  I thought I was finished with you and you with me."  Amblin was a bit disappointed at not having the friend/comrade to share his experiences with, but he took his master's reaction for what it was worth.  Likely, this was another lesson.  He'd figure out what it meant on his own time.

When asked about the School of the Springing Sphinx, Chelis gave no clear answer.  "Did you learn from me?  Yes.  Then what does it matter what that knowledge is called.  What is in a name anyway?"

Amblin is eager to find more disciples of this Springing Sphinx school.  It's a daunting task, though, as the city of Tet Amir is some 2-3 thousand miles from the Water Break area.


----------



## Rurik

:::head rolled to the side...tongue hanging out of mouth:::


----------



## Rurik

:::beard tangled...hand unable to grip axe:::

must...hold...axe....

need...shield...

maybe just a nap...


----------



## Zalman

Damn, Rurik...that's funny....


----------



## Dyme

You know Rurik's not feeling well if he didn't include not being able to grab a mug of ale in the list of  complaints. 

We agreed to bring Bommer along. What a bunch of lemmings.

And Z is pretty much right…. 'Pack sand' is along the lines of 'go fly a kite', 'go play in traffic', and 'go perform a physically impossible sex act on yourself' and has nothing to do with prison or tossing salad.

But, hey, in Rybaer's next story post or two, you get to see Nigel actually has a sense of humor.


----------



## Zalman

*Home Sweet Home*

It was very good to come home - even if we had only been gone a couple of months.  But the old saying "you can never go home again" comes to mind.  We didn't realize how much we had changed.  We didn't quite fit in anymore.  It was quite a blow to find out that my master, Sangelis, had died.  You never expect things to change as much, but they did.  

I was shocked that Rurik's uncle couldn't help him, after all, he was the most powerful cleric I had known.  ( I was still under the perception that our masters were more powerful than we were but in reality we had either matched or surpassed them )

It was good to be home, sleep in my own bed, talk to my parents and my sister... I gave most of my money to my father so that he could buy some things from Trevor Aberdeen when the trade routes were started.  ( my father owned the town's only dry goods store )

Due to all of the danger my character had experienced he had fully planned on staying home once he got here.  They had suggested that the town's defences would be well complimented with my new skills, but with Rurik being sick and Sangelis gone I couldn't stay at this time.  Maybe I'd come back, but I doubt that I'll live that long.


----------



## Rybaer

Session #11.8 – Mt. Goldforge and Rurik’s Quest


For three days the griffon riders rode their mounts hard to reach the foothills of the Iron Cap Mountains, to the vicinity of the entrance to Mt. Goldforge as marked on Trevor’s old trade route maps.  Rurik remained unconscious, kept alive by forcing water down his throat.  The riders landed on a small level area about halfway up one of the smaller mountains where they set up the night’s camp.

“How much farther to the entrance?” Zalman asked of Trevor Aberdeen, concerned about how much longer Rurik could last in his deteriorating condition.

“In the old days when I worked this trade route,” Trevor said, “we never actually went into their stronghold.  The dwarves always met us down in the foothills.  Frankly, the aerial view is so much different from the land approach, I have no idea how close we are.”

The group started up a small fire with what little fuel they could gather off the rocky surroundings…both for warmth against the cool, thin air and in hopes that any dwarves out and about might catch a glimpse and come for a look-see.  They got both of their wishes.

Not long before midnight, Nigel and a couple of the griffon riders were on watch and all heard the approach of several figures.  They hastily woke the others and the riders drew out their crossbows.  Zalman, hoping it was dwarves, decided to step forward toward the intruders.  He wore his new Darkvision Goggles so he could see where he was stepping on the precarious slope.

“Name yourselves before you approach further,” Zalman called out, in dwarven.  He couldn’t quite see those approaching, but he could definitely hear them.

“Name yourself,” called back a gruff voice, also in dwarven.  “You be intruding upon our territory.”

“My name is Zalman,” the wizard replied.  “With me are a number of comrades from New Selmar and a contingent of riders from Water Break.”

“That’s just dandy, there,” the dwarf replied sarcastically.  “You’d best be having a real good reason for being up in these parts.  And kindly tell them elves to put down their crossbows before we have to demonstrate the use of our own.”  Zalman could just now make out some of the dwarves.  Many carried heavy crossbows and looked perfectly willing to use them if need be.

“I think an introduction would be fair first,” Zalman called back, in common now.

“Like I said before,” the dwarf called back, “you’re in our territory.  State yer business quickly and we’ll see if yer worth giving my name to.”

“One of my companions and friends from New Selmar is a dwarf,” Zalman said.  “He is also a cleric of Moradin.  During our trip from Water Break to New Selmar, he fell ill and has been unconscious for nearly four days now.  We seek help.”

The dwarves muttered among themselves for a bit and then the leader called back.  “Tell the elves to lower their weapons and we’ll agree to come take a look at yer dwarven friend.”

The elvish riders and the rest of the group had already heard the exchange and lowered their weapons.  A minute later, a pair of dwarves walked into the camp.  Zalman knew that at least a dozen other waited behind.

The oldest of the dwarves, a powerfully built one with a black beard streaked with gray, spoke up.  “I’m Roderall Hammerstrong, the patrol leader.  This is Father Bibbin Stonewall.”  The younger dwarf nodded slightly.  Rurik’s companions recognized the holy symbol of Moradin about his neck.

The dwarves were led over to where Rurik was wrapped in a heavy wool blanket near the fire.  Father Stonewall inspected him and offered a prayer of healing to Moradin.  When Rurik failed to respond, the priest grilled the others for more information about his condition and symptoms.  They had little useful information to offer, though.

“We must take this Rurik back to the temple,” Father Stonewall said.

“Fine,” Roderall said.  “The rest of you can stay here at yer camp, but don’t go wandering about.  This is dangerous terrain and some dwarves may shoot ya first before botherin’ to find out who ya are.”

“Whoa,” Nigel said.  “You’re not taking Rurik anywhere without us.”

“Impossible,” Roderall said.  “We’re not allowing outsiders into the mountain.  Especially not elves.”

“Perhaps I should explain the rest of our purpose, then,” Zalman said.  “We were intent upon coming here even before our friend fell ill.”

“Eh?  What for?”

“Two reasons, actually,” Zalman said.  “First, we have come to be in possession of an ancient book that we believe was stolen from Mt. Goldforge.”

Father Stonewall’s eyes bulged and Roderall nearly drew his battleaxe.  “What’s that?” Father Stonewall demanded.  “What do you know of that book?”

“It’s a bit of a story,” Zalman replied.  The elvish riders and Trevor were listening as intently as the dwarves.  This was the first any of them had heard of any stolen book.  “We would be happy to recount it to the proper keepers of the book.”

“And you have the book with you now?” Father Stonewall asked.

“Yes.”

“I insist on seeing it at once,” Stonewall said.  “In fact, I insist that you give it to me now.  It belongs to my order.”

“When we get Rurik safely to the temple, then the book will be returned,” Zalman said adamantly.  “Now, the second bit of business deals with Mr. Aberdeen here of Water Break.”  Trevor bowed slightly.

“He intends to start up trade again between Water Break and New Selmar,” Zalman explained.  “Apparently, long ago his company used to trade with Mt. Goldforge.  He is interested in re-opening trade.”

The patrol leader and cleric looked at each other for a moment and came to a silent consensus.  “Very well,” Roderall said.  “You may accompany Rurik into Mt. Goldforge and return the book to the priests.  Mr. Aberdeen may come along to discuss matters of trade.  However, we are going to be absolutely adamant about no elves coming along.”

The griffon riders clearly had no interest in leaving their mounts.  Nigel shared their sentiment after the dwaves’ derogatory remarks and declared that such arrangements were fine with him.

When the group began to be led off into the darkness, Roderall turned back and gave a sour look at the pair of halflings tagging along – Kisty and Bommer.  “And no halflings, either.”

“Uh,” Zalman began.  “One of those halflings would be the one who recovered your book from the thief in the first place.”

“And I intend to see it’s proper return through to the end,” Kisty added in as serious a tone she could manage.  Roderall grunted and then continued to lead them on to their stronghold.  

Mt. Goldforge’s entrance was well concealed.  Even when standing before it, the gates appeared to be nearly identical to the surrounding cliff-face.  A full dozen dwarves led them through a winding maze of hallways in the underground complex.  Zalman, though not familiar with dwarven architecture, got the distinct impression that they were being led to their destination via the least-used passageways possible.

Finally, they arrived at the temple of Moradin.  It was spectacular in its craftsmanship and attention to detail.  Metal, stone, and gems blended together in a spectacular mosaic of design and function.  Several commented on how much they hoped Rurik would get a chance to marvel at the temple during their visit.  At this point, Father Stonewall sent Trevor off to meet up with some trade representatives while the others continued through the temple with him.

Rurik was brought to a small room that appeared to be used primarily for study and writing.  He was laid upon a table and an acolyte was sent to fetch some of the senior clerics from their sleep.  Rurik’s companions were all glad that the dwarves had found them so quickly after their arrival in the mountains as their friend looked to be near death.

The door opened and a pair of dwarves walked in.  One was old, yet still had the strong frame of a dwarven warrior.  His hair and beard were gray streaked with black and the resemblance between he and Father Stonewall was unmistakable.  The other dwarf was ancient beyond human comprehension.  He walked with a pronounced limp and his back was stooped.  His hair was thin and white, but his eyes were still sharp and alert.

Father Bibbin Stonewall introduced the two newcomers as the Most Holy Father Glodain Stonewall, his father, and Father Bockers Blindin, head healer of the church.  Bibbin then introduced the others to the old clerics and summarized the account of Rurik’s condition and the group’s mission to return the lost book.

The older dwarves didn’t bother with pleasantries, but neither were they rude.  Both inspected Rurik and began a series of complex prayers.  After several minutes, the older cleric spoke up.

“It was good of you to bring young Rurik to us given his current condition,” Father Blindin said.  “Unfortunately, there may be little we can do to help him.  Have you ever heard of a Quest or Geas spell?”  Zalman admitted that he had, though knew little of their exact nature.  “Well, it seems as if Rurik is under some manner of Quest spell.  The longer he remains from completing it, the worse his condition becomes.  Do you know how this Quest may have been placed upon him, or by whom?”

Rurik’s companions looked at one another.  There were few times when they had not all been together, and no one recalled anyone casting a spell upon their friend.  “No,” Zalman answered.  “Can you counter the enchantment?” 

“Quest spells can be broken,” the Most Holy Father said.  “And it would ordinarily be within our capacity to do so.  In Rurik’s case, however, I’m not so sure that we would want to, if even we could.”

Zalman gave a perplexed look.  “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” the senior cleric said, “this particular Quest was placed on Rurik by a servant of Moradin.”



Next session:  The mysteries of the book and the Quest becomes clear.


----------



## Zalman

Rurik had fallen into a bad state, home was no longer as comforting as it had once been, we were greeted in a very unfriendly manner by a group of rough dwarves (as should be expected since we were intruding on Mt. Goldforge), but things were looking up.  We now knew the source of Rurik's illness and we could do something about it.  

Little did we know that Rurik's quest would be the most deadly encounter our party had ever faced.


----------



## Rurik

:::snoring:::  ZZZZZZZZZZ.......*cough cough sputter*.......ZZZZZZ.....


----------



## Amblin

*Mt. Gforge*

Amblin in: First off I'll try and recall what got miss placed from my last post. Enough about me. Rurik is deathly sick. He can't even situp long enough to drink ale much less water. To me a dwarf that can't drink mights well be dead. So we take him to his uncle. He's really not going to be happy about this part, and I don't want to see his face when we tell him. Unc can't do any thing off to the forge. I don't really like dwarves any more, rude, oppresive, and generaly unpleasant. If it will save my friends life ok. if they can't they can rot for all I care.so with that Amblin out


----------



## Rybaer

Session # 11.9 - Rurik's Quest 


While some of the senior clerics worked over Rurik, the rest were led down below the temple proper to a vast archive of lore.  Books, scrolls, artifacts, and relics from ages of dwarven culture were piled upon shelves in all directions.  Father Stonewall introduced them to Volko Minersong, an extremely old dwarven sage. 

Volko began by asking for the return of the stolen book.  Kisty finally opened her backpack and withdrew the Bag of Holding that was folded up under the rest of her travel gear.  From the Bag, she produced the bulky book and handed it carefully over to the sage.  He gave it a critical inspection and then set it down upon a table. 

"You've done a fine thing there, young girl," the sage told (the middle-aged) Kisty.  "From accounts, you came across this book a good long way from here and we appreciate your effort to return it.  Its theft was a painful blow to us, both for its loss and for the life of one of our librarians who was slain by the thief.  Perhaps you could tell us more of how you came to be in its possession?" 

Kisty was happy to recount the tale of how the Shadow had mistaken her for her sister Misty, the head of the Thieves' Guild in Water Break.  Someone had contracted Misty to find something - information, perhaps - and Misty had in turn hired the Shadow to get it.  The Shadow had given the book to Kisty by mistake and she had chosen to play along.  When she realized what it was, she had made it her personal mission to return the book to the dwarves, the least she could do to put things right. 

Kisty then explained how Rurik and the others, who had encountered her on her journey to return the book had hindered her initially, but in the end helped her see it through to completion.  She emphasized how Rurik was as adamant about seeing it returned as she was. 

Zalman decided this was as good a time to chime in as any.  "The book was marked to a specific page - one that references a place called Kladish and something called the Adonix.  We wondered if you knew anything of either of these.  We thought it might be possible that someone stole this book for that specific information.  They could be seeking either." 

"This book is ancient beyond description," the sage said.  "In fact, this book is the oldest in our collection, and we believe that it is actually a copy of an older book.  As you might have noted, the language is barely recognizable as dwarven.  In any event, we suspect that Kladish was one of the first dwarven cities.  Khalaz Steelmaker are ancient legends and nothing is known of the extent of their Tauren Empire or what the Adonix may be.  There is speculation, of course, but after more than five thousand years, even dwarven memory is a bit hazy." 

"Well," Zalman said, "there may be more to this mystery."  Volko raised his bushy white eyebrows.  "Shortly before we left Water Break last week, Rurik was handed an anonymous note.  It told of dwarves trapped in the ruins of Kladish, pinned in by some manner of foul beasts.  They sought Rurik's aid in escaping.  The note included instructions on how to reach Kladish - saying it was about fifteen 'derr' north of the city along the coast." 

"A specific reference to Kladish?" the sage said.  "And recent?  There are very few who would even know of that name." 

"On top of that," Zalman continued, "the note was written in the same ancient dwarven as this book was." 

The sage looked stunned by the implications.  "Do you still have this note?" 

"It's in Rurik's bags," Zalman said.  "Now, we did have a few questions about the note.  For one, if they could get a note out asking for help...could they not escape or deliver it person?" 

"And what is a 'derr'?" Bommer asked. 

"A 'derr'," the sage said, "is a measure of distance.  We believe it to be somewhere between one and two common miles.  As for how they got this note out to Rurik, your guess is as good as mine.  Let's go find this note...I'd like to take a look at it." 

Everyone followed back to the temple and to the room they had placed Rurik in.  The Most Holy Father admitted them and everyone was excited to find that they had revived their comrade.  Rurik remained weak and groggy, so they were discouraged from pestering him too much.  The sage looked over the note and asked Rurik if he had any more insight into the matter.

It was at this time that Rurik chose to reveal that a mysterious dwarf paid him a visit one night during his watch over their camp.  He couldn’t recall the dwarf’s name, or even if he had given it.  It was all very surreal now, like a dream half forgotten, but he was quite certain that the dwarf had given him a directive – that there were followers of Moradin somewhere nearby (Water Break) who needed his help.

“That would explain the nature of the Quest spell placed upon you Rurik,” the Most Holy Father said.  “And, it would explain why you’ve been getting more and more ill the farther you travel from the destination of your Quest’s objective.”

“I’m no expert in these spells, Father,” Zalman said, “but in coming here we were actually learning more about what we needed for Rurik to fulfill this mission, assuming the note and the Quest are interrelated.  If he was working toward the Quest, would he still suffer ill effects?”

“Difficult to say,” the elder Stonewall said.  “It can depend heavily on the wording of the Quest, though.  I don’t think this was an ordinary version of the spell, either.  I suspect this dwarf who visited Rurik was a direct agent of Moradin.”

The sage filled in the senior clergy on what the others had revealed to him about the book, the note, and rumors of Kladish resurfacing.  “Rurik,” the Most Holy Father said, “it seems you have been chosen to perform this duty.  I urge you to hasten in doing so.  Rescue our brethren and, if you can, find the lost city of Kladish.  It would be a profound find.”

“I fully intend to,” Rurik said.  “Alone, if need be.”  He had a pretty good idea that his friends would support him in this, though, and he fell back asleep.

The others were given a room to rest in while Trevor Aberdeen worked on his trade agreements with the merchants of the dwarven kingdom.  Shortly after dawn in the world above ground, Rurik and the others were roused from sleep and told that it was time to return them to the griffon riders.  Rurik wished for time to stay and study at the largest temple to Moradin he’d ever had the chance to visit, but he knew that he did not have the time or energy now.  He promised the senior clergy to return with word of Kladish once he found it.

The griffon riders were happy to see the group return as they had little desire to remain perched on their high cliff any longer.  Everyone mounted up and they were soon in the air back for Water Break.  En route, the group discussed their next move.  While visiting New Selmar, Lord Murell had given them leave to pursue their own agenda after successfully fulfilling their objective.  They agreed that they would start by helping Rurik rescue the trapped dwarves in Kladish.  After that, only time would tell.

Captain Silverleaf was persuaded to veer north of Water Break so that they could take a look at the coastline in hopes of finding evidence of Kladish from the sky.  They considered even having the griffon riders drop them off, but were dissuaded when Nigel and Bommer both spotted a large winged creature flying down the coast in their general direction.  From the apparent size, it could only be a wyvern or dragon.  The riders changed course and made straight back for the city, arriving late in the afternoon.

Trevor Aberdeen told them that he would begin to prepare a caravan to leave as soon as possible for New Selmar.  He expected to have the necessary wagons and goods ready in about ten days.  The group was offered positions in his caravan guard if they wished but they deferred for the time, unsure how long it would take to help Rurik.

Kisty also announced to the group that she was going to go her separate way now.  She wished Rurik the best on finishing his quest and thanked everyone for helping her return the stolen book to the dwarves.  She said that she would stay in Water Break for a short while, trying to learn more about her sister’s activities, but would likely leave town before too long because of the danger the Guild presented to her.  If she learned anything useful, or they had to get in contact with her, she told them to contact Helga Vie, the owner of the Battleaxe & Archebus in the dockside part of town.  Kisty would use the cover name of Kelly.

With their farewells complete, the group gathered their stored gear, returned the Rings of Featherfall, and decided to leave that night for Lohna’s.  The sooner they could get out of town, the bigger head start they’d have on anyone trying to pursue them.



Next session:  Into the ruins of Kladish...


----------



## Amblin

*The Quest*

Amblin in: I recall the dwarves being a little less accommodating and a little more demanding, but that could be from my newly formed prejudice. There is contridition in that prejudice in that I find the dwarves treatment of the elves reprehencible, but if I then treat the dwarves in a similar manner so then too am I. This with in a day of being released from my civic duty to new Salmar, and as far as I can tell my master for life. I am now truly on my own. Accept for those I chose to call friends, and it is for this that I chose to follow Rukic on his quest. It is also at this time my desire to travel south, towards the less ravaged cities, begins to take hold. This will come to play later though. For now Amblin out.


----------



## Dyme

Nigel Notes:

The (elven) riders go above and beyond the call of duty to not only haul our asses back to New Selmar but also to Mt. Goldforge. Once they get there, they, along with Nigel, are dismissed as unimportant by these high and mighty dwarfs who haven't left their stupid mountain since the dinosaur era. Not only that, they get to camp outside while everyone else gets nice accommodations inside.

So what do a group of elves that have been dissed by a bunch of sour, bearded, rock eating knuckleheads do? They tell dwarf jokes, of course... as the rest of their group and the sour, bearded, rock eating knuckleheads return the next morning. Very loud dwarf jokes.

"What do you get when you offer a dwarf a copper for his thoughts? Change!!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

"Why did the dwarf climb on top of the tavern? He heard drinks were on the house!!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

"Two dwarfs walk into a bar. The elf jumps over it."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

"How many dwarfs does it take to change a wall torch? All of them-one to actually do it and the rest to start a clan war because their clan _didn't_ get to do it!!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

Rurik is the only dwarf Nigel likes anymore, and that's only because Nigel has known Rurik since he was a baby sour, bearded, rock eating knucklehead.   This episode almost made Nigel tell Rurik, "Love ya, but I ain't helping your stupid ungrateful buddies get anything not matter how many durrs it is away."

Damn reaction rolls. Like I said before, had I known what was going to happen, I'd have told Rurik to piss up a rope anyway. 

F dwarfs.


----------



## Rybaer

When this campaign had started, things tended to be very action heavy.  About 8 months in, the players were finally given a bit of down time and some good opportunities to role-play and further develop their characters in the Water Break area.  I spent a lot of time setting them up for their upcoming trek into Kladish...what I had envisioned as their biggest dungeon crawl yet.  I was certainly itching to get them back into some heavy action.

Of course, after their first major encounter in the ruins...well, let's just say that they were all ready to high-tail it out of there except for Rurik.

Oh, and I did have fun with the elf/dwarf dislike.  The characters had been brought up in a fully integrated community of slaves.  The fact that there was some bitter racism out in the rest of the world hit them kinda hard.  Nigel's player, literally, spent the entire time the others were in Mt. Goldforge coming up with dwarf jokes.


----------



## Rurik

*Dwarves*

Maybe one of the reasons these guys like me is that we all knew each other a while.  Maybe it is because we have been through alot together.  Maybe its because I'm really not a typical dwarf (I was raised in an integrated society).  _Maybe_ my tolorance for others is what got me _stripped_ of my clan name to begin with. 

With all these _maybe's_, its amazing I can make any decisions.

I was very greatful to learn all my friends were willing to help me complete my quest.  This is why they are my friends.  I was willing to do it alone, but I knew I needed help.

I was also very sad to not get to spend any time in Mt. Goldforge, but we had to go.


----------



## Dyme

Rurik is absolutely right. The _only_ reason Nigel went through with it all was his friendship with Rurik.

Rybaer played it right... Mt. Goldforge dwarf's disdain of elves. Nigel had no clue, him being from the sticks and all. Pissed him off to no end. But he stuck with Rurik, his friend.

Friggin idiot.

And yes... Player made fun of dwarfs the whole time the others were in Mt. Goldforge.

F dwarfs.


----------



## Zalman

I didn't really care about Mt. Goldforge.  Being a human, I was not privy to the whole Elf vs. Dwarf debate.  I mean, I knew what was going on and I knew that there was a "thing" between elves and dwarves, but come on... it couldn't be this bad.  This is down right hate.  I grew up in an integrated community.  We HAD to get along in order to live, I can't understand not liking someone just because they are "Elf" or "Dwarf".  That would be as stupid as hating someone just because they were "black" or "white"...  Z just thought it was stupid.

I was more concerned with pondering the possibility that we were headed into a trap and not really saving any dwarves.  All evidence pointed to this - except the meeting that Rurik had with an agent of Moradin.  That was the only snag in my theory.  I didn't bring this up to anyone because I didn't have the big pieces worked out.  Now that I knew about Rurik's meeting I'll hold off a little longer on my fears.

For now, this Albino is headed to Kladish.


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## Rybaer

This marks the end of the first year for the Aftermath campaign and the release of the characters from their charter mission.  They're on their own from here on out, but that certainly doesn't make their lives any easier.

Click here for the ongoing adventures in Aftermath II


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## Amblin

*Reply 2 recap*

Amblin in: Nice recap, a lot of commas, it fits. We're a commonly commaed group. I, being the monk, have found hummor and irreverence though out. From the half/orc who could not stop playing with water, to the wizard/alchemist who could not stop playing, no matter how he tried. Then there's the lion headed dwarf that only leads us to trouble, not to mention are leader. Did I not mention are leader? So sorry. He or she, depending on the game, would be , in the wizards eyes, the ineffectual coalescer of unlike minds in a single unified stratagem to keep said wizard alive. Which I will agree is a wize strategy, in that, said wizard sticks around long enough to be usefull. On the other hand, to lead such a group as our, is a task I might wish apon an enemy. If I really didn't like them. Alot. He does throw pointy sticks very well, that being said leader, as for me, our leader has not lead me to true, dead dead beyond my help dead, death yet. That's good by me. I see these guys like a family, like some, hate some, in the end all I got. You Fu.. with'em, you got more then you will ever hope to live though. Cause whether we like each other or not, we will make our enemies pay. I personaly chose not to kill, but die you will. One way or another, it's done. So am I for now Amblin out.


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## skullsmurfer

knock knock....
who's there? 
*BUMP!
but seriously folks, this one is good readin' , check it out...*


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## Rybaer

skullsmurfer said:
			
		

> knock knock....
> who's there?
> *BUMP!
> but seriously folks, this one is good readin' , check it out...*



*


Good lord.  Yours is the first post to this thread in over two years.  Yikes.  Glad to hear you liked it.

Did you read the part 2 thread?  Once you're through that, there isn't any more.  Sorry to say, but the pc's disbanded and we moved on to other games with other characters.  Some of the characters made cameo's and one of their children featured for a time in another game...but there were no story hours for those episodes.*


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## skullsmurfer

no but im on me way to aftermath 2 now, thanks.


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