# The Goodman Gang in The Mysterious Tower



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​

Here follows another story hour, my main game- you can catch the party of newbies I DM at The Lost Boys Vs. The Sunless Citadel (see below) however, go on, you might like it. Unlike that game the players here are much more mature, at least in years and experience. Therefore the language and topics in places may, or may not, get a little fruity. I have, however, at all times, done my best to make sure it is suitable for almost every ear.

Read on…

Turn 1

In the beginning was the word, and the word was… Bugger.​
The county of Lincornshire, home of the Yellow-Bellies, or as they’re sometimes known, the Imps, a mischievous folk that mean you no harm, providing you pay them their dues and then bugger off sharpish, else they’re likely to knock you into early next week, steal all that you own, and micturate in your hat for good measure. Salt-of-the-Oerth then, gentlefolk.

The Merry Riot Inn, Lowth, outside the rain lashes down, inside the only noise, although the place is packed to the rafters, comes from the logs spitting and crackling in the fire.

Cue atmosphere.

Lord Duncan Merriweather, the Mayor, a fat man, in fact nearly enough for two fat men, steps into the circle of expectant faces, he’s eating a pie.

“It is time. Chomp-chew. Enough. Chew-chomp. We cannot stand idle, chew-chomp, as this creature destroys our village. GGGGulp… our lives.”

The Mayor stares hard at the empty faces of the gathered folk; his eyes linger on the families of Ginger Barley and Pop Stokes, the victims of the Ogre’s vicious attack earlier today. The families have chosen, this evening, to sit together, which is particularly apposite as Ginger’s wife is Pop’s brother- you work it out, we’re in the sticks now. Goober Stokes dabs his one big eye, while Lillybeth-Jinny-Anne-Sue Barley rubs her stump.

“It is time to fight back. Chew-spit-choke.”

None of them can meet his eye, mainly because of the fountain of lard and crumbs that is raining down upon the hushed crowd.

“For years we have paid tribute to this beast, Gargle-Gulp, even when times were hard- we found a way CHOMP to keep it fed and watered, for sheep and ale was all it wanted…BURRRRP then. But now the creature has become grasping, it craves our gold, and now… PARRRRP, strangely it wants wood and nails- building materials, although Pelor knows what it is GGGulp- that’s better, constructing, or why.”

He raises his arms; they’re like the horns on a space-hopper, he’s about to make a point.

(See below for Space Hopper image)

http://images.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http://www.vam.ac.uk/images/image/29668-large.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.vam.ac.uk/moc/images/image/29668-popup.html&h=542&w=408&sz=37&hl=en&start=11&tbnid=Vi-YsjllwG80lM:&tbnh=132&tbnw=99&prev=/images?q=space+hopper&gbv=2&svnum=10&hl=en

“And now the beast asks for CHOMP flesh, human CHOMP flesh.”

The Mayor scans the room, cradles, jiggles and smoothes his flabby folds.

“And what we would not give, it took. GUUUUUULP”

He’s finished his pie. He looks again at the forlorn families.

“It is time to fight, UUUUrp-sorry, back. I have assembled a group of brave souls to deliver our message, once and for all, to the bloody fiend. And that message is… FARRRT, and Death.”

The crowd stirs, begins to look around, an armoured figure steps forward, strides to the Mayor, turns to the masses and bows low.

The Mayor continues.

“Lord Casimir La Frond will lead the group.”

The armoured figure bows again, smiles.

“Hello, I’m Lord Casimir, I’m a Gemini, and quite a catch- no seriously, Ogre-“

He makes chopping motions with an imaginary sword.

“Is over. Call me Cas. Call me anytime… Laydeees.”

He licks his lips, then flattens his eyelashes, all with his tongue, then winks at the damsels in distress.

The villagers know him well, a clean cut and handsome young man, capable, if a little rash- like chicken pox, he gets around; a little, how best to put it- forward. Brave enough when farmer’s daughters are on hand, but enough to face a giant down? Some of the villagers applaud; many more keep their own council, particularly Tarrik (see later).

Cas edges just out of the firelight, swings round to show off his better side.

The Mayor stumbles on.

“Jim Bowen will help to lead the way. Jim.”

A cloaked young lad, just out of his teens, a rough and ready look to him, strides into the light and to the Mayor, shakes his hand, half-nods to the crowd, and edges back into the shadow.

The Mayor turns back to him, “Do you have anything to add?”

Jim shakes his head, trying to hide the burning flush that scars his face, he tenses, a drip of wee snakes down the inside of his farm-boy pants. He shakes a leg and then settles- head down.

The mayor turns back to the crowd.

“Bec will add his strength.”

The crowd parts as a gurning giant strides forth, foaming tankard still in hand, settles next to the Mayor, glugs his drink, wipes his mouth and in the process soaks the front of his jerkin with the tankards contents.

A smattering of laughter, not cruel, but caring. The giant, Bec, grins.

“Wet now.”

He mumbles and, with Jim’s help, shuffles backwards, out of the light.

“Can I have sandwich?”

Jim nods and places a calming hand on Bec’s arm.

The Mayor goes on.

“Anya’drea will of course provide much needed arcane experience.”

A tall, and stunningly beautiful, woman silently steps forward, swoony-music begins, her red hair aglow in the firelight, she circumnavigates the crowd- for all to see, to admire. She nods at the Mayor who fumbles in his folds, finds a piece of crumpled paper, goes to eat it- thinks better of it, flattens it out and then reads aloud.

“Anya is wearing a calf-skin ‘riding’ jacket with ribbed badger lining, her leather dress is by ‘Goat-e-a’- a daring, plunging, design from their ‘Oh Please Mistress’ Collection. Her boots are Dire Rat pelts, bred in captivity- lovingly killed, flensed, cured and stitched to create a shockingly smooth perambulatory experience. Anya’s jewellery is from the ‘Spangle-Dangle’ Collection from Ratners- for Rats and Rings the best bite in town, be sure to snap them up. Ahem. Hair and make-up by the famous Gnome coiffeur Damp Squib. I give you Anya…”

Anya twirls some more and then, without a smile, or trace of pleasure, passes on to join the others, the music ceases.

A smattering of applause, the odd wolf-whistle. The noise soon dies down.

“And lastly, to complete the valiant group, ahem… Newt.”

A young Gnome barges his way through the sea of legs and into the spotlight, he turns bows low to the masses, and then round to the Mayor, flips a shiny gold coin in the air, it disappears, he strides over to the Mayor, puts his hand out- the coin reappears high above him, it plummets, he catches it and whips it out of sight- he settles into a lazy grin, and when the Mayor turns away presents his middle finger to the fat fool.

“Good riddance.”

The Gnome turns to face his audience, his right eye twitches; he scans the crowd, his mouth a snarl, till he spots the bringer of bad tidings- Kerwin, a weasel of a man, the proprietor of Kerwin’s Outfitters, an overpriced general store.

Kerwin knows the Gnome, all the members of the village do, it seems everyone in the village has mislaid something or other at onetime or another, the missing items always seeming to ‘turn up’ in the vicinity of the quick fingered Newt. Kerwin has a name for it; he calculated once that he was losing at least 5% of his stock to the miniature crime wave that stands before them, shrinkage- that’s what he calls it, shrinkage.

“Feckowwwwfyascabbycludger.”

Newt grins, and straightens his apparel, bows again, winks and is on his way, all the while making a mental note to fleece the fellow on his return, else stab him through his stone heart.

The Mayor dives on, as the Gnome wraps himself in shadow.

“And so our brave adventurers are ready to strike, to beard the fearsome Ogre in his foul den…”

WHUMP

The door of the Inn lashes open, wind and rain flies in, a cloaked figure steps into the light, the elements seemingly unconcerned with this barefoot child.

“I will go too.”

Mischa shrugs the hood of her cloak down; the Elf scans the crowd looking for defiance.

“The creature deserves to die, it has upset the balance, I will see it done.”

She pulls her hood back up, the audience watches her every move, then makes her way over to the other adventurers.

“Well… Good. Six- the six shall head forth… Ahem. But before they go- who will proffer aid to them on their perilous journey?”

“I have brought these.”

Mischa steps forward again, in her open palm rest eight blue-black berries.

“The Witch of the Wood…”

The crowd collectively suck in air. Mischa continues-

“My mistress, has sent them- Goodberries, they will each heal a minor wound. We will share them.”

She passes them out, too late, Bec eats his.

“Mmmm Jammy-good.”

Then.

“Can I have sandwich?”

The Mayor turns back to the crowd.

“I have brought this.”

Old Tarrik One-Arm (that’s why he wasn’t applauding) shuffles forward clutching a ferocious-looking jet back arrow in his hands.

“It will not break, and it will always find its target.”

He hands it over, Jim Bowen and Lord Casimir step forward to take the arrow, the Lord relents.

“After yew, sirrah.”

Cas bows and admires the cut of the farm-boys pants; Jim nods nervously and takes the proffered arrow.

“I will use it weeEE...”

He realises all eyes are on him, he turns away swiftly, his face a rictus grin, his bowels about to cut loose, he shakes.

The room returns to silence.

It goes on for a while.

“Is there no other? These brave men and women are our only hope; do none of you have any other aid you can give them?” The Mayor pleads.

“Ahem.”

Kerwin steps forward, “Fifty gold- to spend in my place, a…”

The Mayor strides over to the weasel man, “A generous offer.” Clasps Kerwin’s hand and pumps it beaming at the assembled masses. The hypnotic jiggle of his bellies momentarily confuses Kerwin, he flounders then finds his purpose.

“A loan.”
“What?”
“I said a loan- 5% vig. Per day.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“Of course I’m serious; they’ll all be dead by the mor…”

The crowd begin to hoot and moan, stamp their feet, gnash their gums, someone fetches a banjo

“Alright 4%.”

The noise grows louder, a violin squeals up a storm.

“3%- take it or leave it.”

The noise continues but Kerwin contents himself with a close examination of his shoes.

“Then I will pay your 3% scoundrel- and be swift to open your doors, these younglings have a task tonight.”

The Mayor turns back to the six brave souls and in the surrounding silence simply states.

“Remember- Legends are made, BUUUURP not born. FART. Bugger”

Next Turn- Who’s who?

Any comments gratefully received… anyone played this one?


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## Tal Rasha

I like the beginning, the style makes for a funny read. The characters aren't bad either, and I'm waiting too see how they will interact with one another. Do you plan to keep up the humorous style throughout the rest of the story hour?


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## Goonalan

Thanks for the commets Tal.

I'm not sure, I'm a little disappointed with this, I've written up about eight sections so far. The problem is I'm having to force the humour. My other story hour, The Lost Boys, is the story of a game I'm playing with a bunch of newbies, aged 9-12, they try anything. This one is with seasoned professionals, they don't take as many risks, or if they do they're calculated- they know what they're doing. There's some good roleplay, but there's never the feeling that the entire thing could implode at any second, and the awe is missing at times. I'm not saying the players are jaded but the characters, or rather the players, know how to handle most things.

They work together more, which while obvious, is something lacking in the other story hour- the characters there survive by luck, good dice rolls, and moments of inspiration. These guys have tactics, at times, as I say they know what they're doing.

My latest thought is to post these sessions as diary entries, short and sweet, each member of the group taking it in turns to narrate a session, which might add some spice to it.

Lord Cas will be all for death and glory, and a little self-centred.

Jim will be constantly terrified, that's how he's played, particularly of women.

Bec will be monosyllabic, and confusing- possibly.

Anya will be self-centred again, and more concerned with her apparel- at the moment she's the weakest link, character development-wise.

Newt will be self-centred (again), and rather scathing of Cas- he hates him.

Mischa will be more eco-friendly, and forgiving.

I'm not sure, suggestions welcome, I don't want to add things that didn't happen but the action, while good, is sometimes obvious, and as I've said the group is so co-ordinated, with defined roles.

As I say, suggestions welcome.

Cheers Paul


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## Tal Rasha

There's this quote, that in my opinion applies here: "There is no book more boring than a book of jokes." I think that if you pressure yourself to write a funny story-hour it might end up being counterproductive. In other words, perhaps you shouldn't try to force the humour out of it. Some of the funniest moments (in games, movies, books, what have you) happen in situations of great stress / drama / fear. Let the story progress naturally.

Personally, I don't really like stories that are told from 7 different perspectives, it makes me feel like there are too many lines of thought, and makes it harder to get a good overview of the story. But this is really just my cup of tea, not a scientific opinion   .


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## Goonalan

Thanks for that.

The next update is the character stats, and little bit more, so I'll post that soon, then maybe a few others- see what people (and you) think. I'll lay off the humour, at least the throwaway stuff, see how it goes.

Thanks again.

Paul


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## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​
Turn 2: Who’s who?

And the players are, basically the Pre-Gen’s from the module, but for those of you without the book.

“Jim” Bowen​
Human Male Warrior Level 1 (Training to become a Ranger) 
NG HP 10 AC 18 Init +2
Str 14 Dex 15 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 12 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +4 Ref +3 Will +1
+1 Battleaxe (family heirloom) +4 d8+3 
Comp. Longbow (+2 Str) +3 d8+2 
Dagger +3 or +3 d4+2
Armour: Chainmail and Light Wooden Shield.
Feats: Skill Focus (Trapmaking) & Point Blank Shot 

Skills of note: Climb +4 Craft (Trapmaking) +6 Handle Animal +4 Jump +4 Wilderness Lore +3

Items of note: Nothing much.

A shy farm boy who doesn’t like people, or at least isn’t comfy around them, or what he means to say… oh excuse me- Jim heads for a bush. And the fair sex, the poor lad feints away. He will die for the cause (I’ll see to that, DMs note). True and steadfast and with a bladder seemingly the size of a packet of crisps (chips), and always full to the brim. A nervous ninny, except when alone, or with his friend- gah- ‘the animals.’

Bec​
Human Male Commoner Level 1 (Training to become a Barbarian)
CG HP 11 AC 14 Init +1
Str 18 Dex 12 Con 18 Int 11 Wis 8 Ch 9 
Saves Fort +4 Ref +1 Will -1
Long Spear +4 d8+6  
Dagger +4 or +1 d4+4
Armour: Studded Leather.
Feats: Toughness 

Skills of note: Climb +8 Jump +5 Ride +3 Spot +3 Swim +5 Use Rope +4

Items of note: Climbers Kit.

Six feet six inches, a brick out-house, as they say this side of the water. Alas, also a sandwich short of a picnic, no fear of head injuries- deals with the right now, little time for reflection, learns by his mistakes, again, and again, and again. Generally point-and-click with a heart of gold, or jam, I forget which.

Lord Casimir​
Human Male Aristocrat Level 1 (Training to be Paladin) 
LG HP 10 AC 17 Init +1
Str 15 Dex 13 Con 14 Int 14 Wis 11 Ch 14 
Saves Fort +2 Ref +1 Will +2
Longsword (Masterwork) +3 d8+2 
Longbow (Masterwork) +2 d8 
Light Mace +2 d6+2
Armour: Shiny Breastplate & Sparkling Light Steel Shield
Feats: Negotiator & Dodge

Skills of note: Diplomacy +8 Handle Animal +6 Knowledge (History) +4 Knowledge (Local) +6 Ride +5 Sense Motive +6 Spot +4 

Items of note: Potion Cure Light Wounds, 3 Flasks of Holy Water, 5 Silver Arrows.

Ladies love Lord Casimir, and he knows it- actually a clever lad with all it takes to be a Paladin, and with the death of his father, and three older brothers, a true Lord of the Land- only kidding. Content with his lot, and happy to pick up as many brownie points as possible by keeping this gang of misfits together for the big win. Oh Anya though… simply delicious.

Anya’Drea​
Human Female Expert (Wizard’s Apprentice) Level 1 
CG HP 7 AC 13 Init +5
Str 10 Dex 13 Con 12 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 17 
Saves Fort +1 Ref +1 Will +2
Quarterstaff (The Gandalf 4000 with Lantern crook) +0 d6 
Sling (actually an old pair of her leather panties) +1 d4
Armour: Leather Armour by Goat-e-a (see previous) 
Feats: Skill Focus (Use Magic Device), Armour Proficiency (Light) & Improved Initiative 

Skills of note: Appraise +3 Bluff +3 Concentrate +4 Craft (Model) +3 Decipher Script +7 Diplomacy +3 Disguise +3 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +5 Intimidate +3 Knowledge (Arcane) +6 Listen +4 Move Silently +3 Perform (Vogue) +3 Scry +3 Search +3 Spellcraft +7 Use magic Device +10

Spells: None

Items of note: Scroll Read Magic, Detect Secret Doors & Mage Hand (All Level 1); Wand of Magic Missile (Level 1- 10 Charges); 2 Bags of Caltrops; 6 Tindertwigs.

Beautiful, sometimes cruel but generally just not bothered, except, why isn’t she a wizard yet? Smart as a whip and out to make a name for herself, the latest fashions are her thing, she parades permanently and yet seems not to relish the attention. She doesn’t know what she wants, except to be a wizard. 

Newt​
Gnome Male Expert Apprentice Locksmith Level 1 (Training to be a Rogue) 
NG HP 8 AC 18 Init +3
Str 11 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +2
Heavy Mace +1 d6 
Light Crossbow +4 d6 
Dagger (2) +1 or +4 d3
Armour: Scabby old Chain Shirt
Feats: Nimble Fingers, Low Light vision, +1 To Hit vs. Goblinoids and Kobolds, +4 Dodge vs. Giants.

Skills of note: Alchemy +9 Appraise +5 Balance +3 Craft (Locksmith) +5 Disable Device +9 Escape Artist +3 Forgery +3 Hide +9 Intimidate +3 Listen +6 Move Silently +4 Open Lock +9 Ride (Pony) +3 Scry +3 Search +7 Spot +5 Use Rope +3

Spells: Ghost Sound, Dancing Lights, Prestidigitation & Speak with Burrowing Animals.

Items of note: Silk Climbing Rope, 10 Tindertwigs, 2 Thunderstones, 2 Tanglefoot bags, 2 Sunrods, 2 Smoke Sticks, 4 Alchemist’s Fire, Thieves Tools.

A one-Gnome miniature crime wave, his father wanted him to take over the family business, Gingritch Locksmiths, he saw a different opening. He’s also a dab hand with minor alchemical substances. Not evil, more mischievous, in a grand larceny kind of way.

Mischa​
Elf Female Adept Level 1 (Training to be a Druid) 
NG HP 6 AC 15 Init +3
Str 10 Dex 16 Con 11 Int 15 Wis 18 Ch 12 
Saves Fort +0 Ref +3 Will +6
Cold Iron Sickle +0 d6
Short bow +3 d6 
Armour: Dirty Leather
Feats: Track

Skills of note: Balance +3 Concentration +4 Escape Artist +3 Heal +10 Hide +3 Knowledge (Nature) +4 Listen +6 Move Silently +3 Ride (Horse) +3 Search +4 Sense Motive +4 Spellcraft +4 Spot +6 Use Rope +3 Wilderness Lore +8

Spells Level 0 (3) Cure Minor Wounds, Detect Poison, Flare Level 1 (2) Entangle, Cure Light Wounds.

Items of note: 4 Antitoxin, Healing Salve (Cures d3- 8 uses) 2 Healer’s Kits, Wooden Flute.

The Witch of the Wood’s apprentice little is known of Mischa.

Actually the only real change is with Mischa’s spells, she wanted to be Druid rather than some hanger-on Priest of an Eleven/Nature deity.

The players know that they need 500 XP to get to first level, either that or they need to survive to the end of the scenario, which ever happens first- although they’re not gaining any complex class-based skills till they make time for training.

Next Turn- What’s what?


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## Richard Rawen

While an occasional focus on one characters pov is often fun to read, I agree with Tal Rasha that too much jumping from one pov to the next would be confusing. I have seen authors pull it off, spending one chapter or post, or even just a few paragraphs on one person at a time... even the bad guys!
In the end it is what you feel comfortable writing that is going to be entertaining . . . 
Also you have to like it or you'll quit and be yet another of those promising SH's that peters out and is a big let down. 

So do what you like!


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## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​
Turn 3: What’s what?

We press on…

After a short session at Kerwin’s Outfitters spending their loaned “aid” on torches, trail rations and the like the six huddle on the porch, watching the rain, to share rumours of what lies ahead.

“I saw rat bite dog.”

CHOMP

“Bite good- dog runoff.”

Bec starts the sharing.

The others stare at the giant, dare I say it, moron.

“How does that fit in with anything, we’re off to kill an Ogre?” Newt looks put out.

CHOMP

“Bite good.”

Bec is certain.

“Right? What else?” Cas asks.

“There’s another way into the Ogres cave at Skulltop Hillock.” Anya offers with a look. Mischa nods. “It’s at the rear- a little way up, something lairs there though- something that smells bad.”

“That’s interesting.” Cas rubs his chin, effects a pose. “I think the back entrance maybe the way.”

Jim nods, fingers his Magic Arrow, tries to avoid looking at Anya legs, then Mischa’s cleavage, then Anya’s alegs and cleavage, “I could… ah… I could… get that, I mean, I could…the creature” He drifts into silence. The others look on. He starts up again.

“There’s a… A… There’s… A… Tomb… A tomb… some knight… in there… A Tomb.”

“I heard that too.” Anya breaks in.
“Yep.” Newt nods. “Let’s try that way first- see if we can’t sneak up on the big feller, y’never know there might be some gelt in it- the tomb I mean.” The Gnome rubs his hands at the thought of plunder.

“I see pretty lights.”

Bec stares off into the semi-dark, the others follow his gaze.

“Pretty lights in hills… Pretty.”

The others squint, scan the horizon.

“Where?” Cas finally asks.

“I think the operative word is, when… When did you see ‘Pretty Lights’?” Anya cuts through the confusion.
“Other night… Sometime… Lots.” Bec finishes.
“I have… I have…too, lights in the hills… too.” Jim adds squirming.

Newt stares hard at Cas, “Can we concentrate on matters in hand.”
“Yes, perhaps we should.” The paladin replies.

The rain is beginning to ease up, fireflies buzz and dance beneath the near trees, there are still lights on in the village.

“Is there anything else we should know?” 

The others think about it a while, Mischa breaks the silence.

“There’s a chimney, in the stone skull at the top of the hill- I’ve seen the smoke, we could get in that way, at least a little one could.”

Newt shrugs. “I’m game.”

Anya interrupts, pushy.

“They say the creature is as strong as any ten men, his club can crush a man’s skull with a single blow. It would take a very brave man to stand up to the fiend.” Anya looks up from checking her nails, changes her stance to reveal a yard of leg. “The question is- is there a man brave enough?” 

Anya scans the party.

Cas licks a finger and smoothes his eyebrows, trying to find a jaunty angle to rest his hand upon his sword. Jim pulls at his crotch area, crosses his legs and gurns. Newt fiddles with something, distracted, finally looks up- unsure of what has been said. Mischa dismisses Anya’s gaze, hides deeper within the folds of her hood. Bec claps the air- and a firefly, sniffs the wreck of the creature, now paste in his hands, he licks the spot then grimaces, then licks it clean.

“Can I have sandwich?”

They ignore him.

“Tarrik lost his arm. To the giant… some time ago.” Cas adds still staring hard at Anya, she favours him a look. The others watch on till,

“Right, anything else?” Cas asks.

“They also say that the Ogre is in league with our good Mayor Merriweather.” Anya suggests, she likes to stir the pot.

“No. No, I mean. Surely not. What would he…” Cas stumbles.
“Money.”
“Where?” Newt’s back in the room, and all ears.
Anya shakes her head and tuts at the foolish Gnome.

“My dad took on a Dwarven carpenter, Durbin, to fix the roof- he just upped and left, no payment, no nothing- he had a lovely set of ladders I had my eye on.” Newt drifts off.

“Right.” Cas is about to finish up, his big speech, he strikes a pose- aiming for the thinking man, with a hint of the thinking woman’s draught excluder.

“What we do know is that this can’t continue, the creature was content to take our beer, and our food- tribute it said. Alas things have changed, with the death of Ginger Barley and Pop Stokes things have come to a head. We know where the creature lives- Skulltop Hillock; we know a secret way in, maybe two, if the chimney works out. And if the Mayors right then there’s a good chance the creature will have had his fill of beer, poisoned beer- his reactions should be slow.”

The would-be-paladin looks about him, stands on tip-toes, to give himself that extra presence.

“This is our chance, for ourselves, for the village, for Ginger Barley and Pop Stokes- we owe it to them. We should go now. Who’s with me?”

He eyes his audience, in unison they nod, stitch on their most determined faces, except for Jim-

“Wooolves… WOOOOlves, inthehills.” Jim half-balances on the edge of a table one hand grasping his crutch.

“What?” Anya stares at him, leans in close. “What are you saying? Is he alright?”

The others form a tight half-circle so as to guarantee Jim no privacy.

“Is your leg ok?” Anya touches it, just above Jim’s knee.

Instantly a dark stain spreads towards her hand, the woodsman blossoms red and half-sigh grins.

“Yesssssssssss.” He adds.

The others leave sharpish, and so to no-one Jim restates. “I said there are wolves in the hills, we ought to be careful.” He straightens up, eases his pants away from his skin and frog-like crouch-walks off the porch.

Approximately twenty minutes later the group have crossed farmer’s fields and ditches and are at the edge of the woods.

They stand there, looking back at the village, a final farewell.

“Funny?” Mischa notes.
“What is?” Cas asks.

Mischa points, the others follow her gaze, in the distance a building in the village seems to be outlined by a red furze.

“What do you think it is?” Cas wonders.
“Fire.” Newt states, “I mean… probably.”
“Should we go back- see if they require assistance? Where do you think it is? I pray it’s not the church?” Cas wobbles.
“It’s Kerwin’s.” Newt states, “I mean… probably.”

They turn to stare at the Gnome.

“You didn’t?” Cas is furious.
“No, I didn’t. I was here with you- remember.”

Newt turns and wanders into the woods; the white of his teeth reflects the scant light- he’s smiling.

Next Turn- The Smelly Back Passage.

You might think I’ve gone for the cheap gag but the above is, more or less, exactly how it played out- blame my players, who are incidentally all 30+ years old but obviously, Jim, enjoy playing the giddy-goat (fool).

Any thoughts?


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## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​
Turn 4: The Smelly Back Passage.

The rain has eased up, a waxing moon illuminates the way through the woods, shadows everywhere, the torch lit procession soon finds its way through however. The eagle eyes of Newt, and in particular, Mischa, who knows the route, have not led them astray; the pair’s low light vision, even with the flaring torches, can pick out detail at a hundred paces. 

Two miserable hours later the six sit, crouch, and stand in the lea of a copse of trees observing what Mischa says is the rear of the Ogre’s den.

“Where is it?” Cas scans the hillock again.
“Wait.” Mischa counsels.

They wait, in silence, except for Anya who awkwardly scrapes mud from her Dire Rat skin boots. “These are ruined.” She states to no-one.

“I can’t see anything.” Newt moans.
“Wait.” Mischa simply states.

Dusk approaches, and with its approach signals feeding time for the bats. A dark spiral of the creatures erupts from a crag forty feet up the side of the hillock, no more than two hundred feet from where the adventurers watch.

“See.” Mischa scans her compatriot’s faces, and then quickly and quietly, sets off for the crag.

Two minutes later they have reached the hillock, gathered in silence.

“Wait.” Mischa tags Jim’s arm, he spasms at the touch- then relaxes a little, the two crouch down and shuffle forward.

“I’m beginning to see who’s in charge.” Newt states staring hard at young Lord Casimir. The would-be paladin smiles back, feigning indifference; there’s nothing else for him to do.

At the base of the hillock Mischa and Jim circle.

“See. Here.”

The Elf falls to her knees, strikes a pose like some four-legged beast. She gingerly places her feet and hands into hollow depressions in the dirt.

“It’s five feet long, quadruped, big- heavy, look how deep the tracks are.”

Jim grins, all he can see is the young Elf’s twitching rear silhouetted in the moonlight.
“Mmmm… I… I, ah… I see.”

“The tracks head up, their fresh, the creature has fed today perhaps. Nevertheless we should warn the others.” Mischa looks up. “It’s an easy climb. I shall lead the way.”

Two minutes later the group are gathered forty feet up at an opening in the hillocks side, a tear in the rock.

“I’ll take over.”

Newt scrambles forward to the head of the queue, braces himself against the sides of the crevasse and heads on in. In a moment he’s gone from sight.

Inside the dark cave, Newt cautiously, quietly, creeps- tight to the cavern wall, his eyes adjust to the dark, the shaft of light from the crevasse emphasises the shadows that surround him.

A minute passes. He heads back.

“There’s a cave, it smells- not good. There’s an opening on the far side, it smells worse - there’s something down there, I swear I could hear something moving- sounds big. Also the ground is soft- funny.” Newt reports back, confirming Mischa’s warning.

“Onwards.” Cas whispers. 

“Can I have a sand…” Bec starts up, Anya reaches up and clamps her hand across his mouth, she shakes his head- no.

They head in.

A minute more and they’re assembled inside, it’s too dark for those not blessed with low light vision, a torch flares, the group take in their surroundings. They’re standing in the centre of a natural cave, a passage heads off into darkness, and lastly, and for Anya most importantly, their standing in six inches of collected bat guano.

“OH MY GOD. Oh my god. Oh my god.”

Anya breaks her cool looking for some way to extricate her boots from the mire. She gloops and slops forward, pulling her ruined boots from the wretched slop.

“Shhhh.” A collective offering.

“OH MY GOD- d’you know how much these cost me?”

“Shhhh.” It comes again.

Bec bends low to sniff at the bats offerings, staggers upright.

“POO POO.”

He half-dances into the thickest part. Slips- catches himself, then slips again and is down; hands, hair, face in the slop.

“POO POO.”
“Will you keep it down.” Cas hisses.

Slowly order returns.

They head over to the exit.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” A litany under her breath from Anya.

The cavern ahead splits two ways, Mischa sniffs, Jim follows suit.

“The creature’s lair lies to the left.” She simply states.

Newt struggles to the front again, “I’ll check it out. If I call…”
“We’ll come running.” Cas finishes off his remark.

Newt shuffles-squats forward, down the left-hand passage. All is silent for a good while.

Cas looks at Jim, then Mischa, skips Bec, then Anya- who shrugs and gets back to pushing back an offending cuticle.

Time passes.

Then bursting from the tunnel ahead comes the Gnome, at speed, with something large in hot pursuit.

“AAAAAhhhh. Big skunk- angry, big skunk.”

The Gnome bowls through the cavern as emerging, hissing into the light comes the enraged Dire Skunk, all teeth and fur, the group quickly fall back as the creature approaches- snarling and spitting as it surges forward.

All except for Lord Casimir who stumbles and puts one hand down in the mire, he’s left stranded his back to the giant creature. 

At the other side of the cavern Newt finishes his tactical retreat by tripping and plunging head first into the bat guano. That leaves four of the adventurers in play.

And yet the creature hesitates, content to defend its lair.

Jim staggers forward hands up. He has no idea what he’s doing, or why, and yet…

“There, there. Nice skunky. Shhhh.”

Mischa nudges Bec, who shuffles forward and grabs Cas dragging him up and back to safety. Newt recovers in the background, wipes guano from his face and hands.

Jim takes a step closer, his eyes locked on the twinkling eyes of the enormous beast, he glances back at Mischa, and then quickly forward, locked onto the beast. Time slows.

“There, there. We come in…”

The beast quickly turns, raises its tail, and a geyser of hot skunk piss sprays out, it shakes its flanks and then turns again to see what it has wrought.

“POOOOOOO POOOOOO.”

Bec screams like a frightened child, the scent fills his nostrils, his brain- he hurtles forward, away, anywhere; trips, stumbles and thumps into a cavern wall- out cold.

For Jim the effect is less dramatic, he slowly sags, slumps and then falls flat-out into the mire, bubbles in the guano mark his mouth submerged in the miasma.

“Kill it.” Cas screams.

Anya is however first to react, a wand appears, as if by magic, in her hands.

“LOOK AT MY BOOTS. SMIDGIN”

A bolt of energy rips from the end of the wooden shaft and thumps into the enraged creature’s face- that’s torn it.

Mischa is unsure, she grasps her sickle and stands ready lest the creature launch an attack; it was only defending its lair after all.

Newt quick-draws a dagger and flings it at the creature it misses by a country mile, sinks into the dark, and the gloop, never to be found again- good start.

The Dire Skunk has had enough; it launches itself at Lord Cas, over Jim- pressing him further down into the stinky gloop. Mischa steps in- swings but merely cuts the air. The beast sinks its teeth into Cas’ arm, blood spurts then cascades, his shield falls into the dirt. Off-balance he swings hard with his longsword but the creature is too close, the blow is ineffective, it bounces off the Dire Skunk’s matted fur.

Anya backs away, this is not going well and yet…

“YOU RUINED MY BLOODY BOOTS. SMIDGIN”

Another bolt of energy streaks forward and scores a hit. The creature staggers and yet is now certain where its enemy lies- it charges forward. Mischa is slow to react, the creature bowls past her and rushes at the Model Wizard.

Thwang.

Newt’s crossbow speaks, however the bolt, like his dagger, is lost to the dark.

The Dire Skunk arrives, at pace, smashes into Anya and snaps its jaws shut slicing through leather, skin and bone.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.”

The creature rears back salivating, makes ready for another strike.

“NOT THE DRESS AS WELL.”

Behind the creature Lord Cas swings wildly, misses badly- still staggered from the creature’s initial attack.

Further behind the melee, Jim lifts his face from the mire, voids his stomach and hearing the screams behind him attempts to gain his feet. 

Anya staggers backwards as the great creature sways before her, in desperation fumbles the wand, reaches into a pocket and gulps down her goodberry.

Mischa backs away, weaves magic with her hands, a sudden burst of light before the creature as her Flare spell ignites the air. The creature rears up blinded, leaving Newt and the others with a clear shot.

Thwong.

Newt’s crossbow bolt buries itself deep inside the creature’s throat, it chokes on its own blood, thrashes wildly- Anya dives again for cover.

Then Cas connects, his longsword slicing open the creatures flank, it deflates in an instant, slowly sinks further into the filth.

“Can I have sandwich?”

Bec awakens.

Next Turn Beetlemania.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​
Turn 5: Beetlemania.

The six sit about, arguing-

“What did you say to it?” Cas wearily asks the Gnome.
“Nuthin’” comes the reply.

Jim whispers to Mischa, which is proving difficult to do, he and Bec stink to high heaven, nobody wants to get too close to either of them.

“How did… did he… did he speak to it?”
Mischa is quick to reply. “The Gnomes have the ability to talk; no, that’s not it, communicate with many burrowing creatures.”
Jim nods, confused- it’s a default setting.

“You must have said something.” Cas implored.
“Nope.”

Newt and Cas settle into a staring competition.

“Oh my god. Oh. My. God.” Anya provides background noise.

Mischa continues to do her rounds, there are wounds to be healed.

“Poncey fecker.” Newt mumbles.
“What?” Cas stares hard at the Gnome.
“I said nothing.”

“Leave him.” Anya interjects, “what does it matter now what he said?”
Cas shrugs, staggers off and leaves the Gnome alone.

“Oh. My. God.” Anya again, although there’s something about her voice- a revelation?

The would-be-paladin quickly-turns, “what is it?”

“Well look at this… if we cut here, and here…” Anya makes chopping motions over the dead Dire Skunk’s carcass, “then we’ll have enough hide for a dress, maybe even a poncho… I mean it stinks now, but we can fix that.”

Mischa has heard enough, “you would slaughter this proud creature just to make… a poncho?”
“No sweetie. I slaughtered this beast because it got in my way, sorry OUR way, and as I remember it was that Flare of yours that finally did for it. The poncho’s just a bonus.”

Mischa spins round, defeated, strides across the room and bumps into Jim’s chest. Without thinking he snakes his arm around her shoulders, and gingerly pats the spot between her shoulder blades, a trail of warm wee coils out from his left trouser leg- merges with the bat faeces, what the hell, he isn’t going to smell any worse, he plasters on a triumphant grin- head thinks, girlfriend.

Five minutes later, his arm still slightly numb after the creatures attack, Cas points at the tunnel exit, makes a sign for silence. Newt skips forward and on, the others follow, Anya toting her soon-to-be poncho.

They head left into the Dire Skunks lair, and it’s as simple as that, one stinking corner a toilet, another with bedding, all around the faint ammonia stench, both in the room, and on Jim and Bec.

“No treasure.” Newt is disappointed.
“What did you expect, a ruddy chest?” Cas is still angry it seems.
Newt turns away and silently mimics the Lords words, like a child.

They back out and head off on the right-hand spur, the cramped tunnel, for some, only six feet high and five wide, curves round to a crude stone door on the right, then plunges on, there are lights ahead, a pair of them bobbing too and fro.

Newt goes to investigate but is held back, Cas grips tight his arm.

“You two. Be careful.” He nods at Mischa and then Jim, they sneak ahead.

“What about the door then?” Newt nods towards it.
“Shhhh. Have patience, not yet.” Cas replies.

The Gnome kicks a stone and shrugs into the shadow.

Ahead a much larger cavern, the drip of water to the left, also Mischa spies two possible exits, one left past the water, one straight ahead. Stalactites and stalagmites dot the floor and ceiling, some immense. Between them wend three pairs of flashing lights.

“Wha…” Jim begins.
“Fire Beetles.” Mischa finishes whispering.

She nods for Jim to follow, scuttles into the chamber. Jim follows, after first drawing his bow and setting in place his magic arrow.

The first beetle catches a whiff of Jim approaching, thinks Dire Skunk, and beetles off, the second the same, the third however does not make the connection, it skitters and rattles over, it’s jaws snapping open and shut. Jim draws a bead on the approaching monster, time to be a hero, draws the string as far back as he can.

Fwung-g-g-g

The arrow flies three feet, ricochets on the cavern floor, and then careens off into the darkness.

CRACK.

Jim’s bow snaps clean in half. 

The Fire Beetle closes in on Mischa, ready for the kill.

Clunk-scree.

Mischa’s sickle digs a furrow in its carapace, to no effect; its jaws snap shut just missing Mischa’s leg. There’s no use for it.

“HELP.” She screams.

The beetle lunges again as the others come running, misses again, the other two beetles it seems have found the courage to join the fray, they clatter over. Mischa stabs again this time slices air. 

Jim drops the remains of his useless bow and steps in swinging his battleaxe.

CRUNCH

Smashing the creature where it stands- one down. 

Lord Cas charges in, takes in the scene, spots the nearest threatening beetle and continues his charge to intercept, the beetle redoubles its efforts, the two meet in a horrendous smash. Cas swings high and wide, and off-balance is mown down by the beetle, under it he sways and shrugs as the creatures jaws snap open and closed inches from his face.

Thank heavens for Bec following close behind, his spear lances out and down.

CRUNCH.

Through the creatures carapace, and through its body, stopping only for the caverns stone floor- between the squirming would-be-paladin’s legs. Bec, in one swift motion, levers the beetle up into the air and swats his spear sideways, flinging the dead beetle off into the dark. Just in time for the final beetle to arrive. Jaws agape it sprints the last few feet aiming for Bec’s leg.

CRUNCH

The spear comes again impaling the thing mid-stride; it kicks air for a second and then expires.  

Anya tumbles into the chamber.

“BEEE Kal. BEEE-KUL. BEE-KiLL”

Bec stretches down and wrenches Cas back to his feet, the young Lord is short on words, he pats Bec’s arm.

“A is for ‘a BEEE-KUL.’” Bec states, then for good measure, “Can I have sandwich?”

Jim searches around in the dark, tippy-toe, trying to be quiet; he finds the jet black magical arrow after a short while, not a scratch on it, which is more than can be said for his bow. 

He heads back to the others, and to Cas, offers him the miserable arrow. Cas smirks, shuffles his own bow off his shoulder and instead proffers it to Jim.

“I… er… I.”
“Take it.”

Cas passes his bow over, Jim awkwardly grins, as Cas clasps his arm.

“We’re in this together.” The would-be-paladin confirms then winks.

The six, no scratch that- five, gather again. 

Hang on, where’s Newt?

“It’s open”, announces a small voice from back down the passage.

Cas grimaces, the five head back to see what Newt has found.

Next Turn: Tomb it may concern.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​
Turn 6: Tomb it may concern.

The door is wide open, Newt scuttles around inside.

“Come on, it’s safe.” He grins. “Probably.”

The others file in, except for Anya, something on the door catches her eye.

The chamber is twenty by thirty feet with an eight foot high ceiling, towards the back, in the centre, is a flat unadorned stone sarcophagus, either side of it a pile of bones with a weapon planted in the midst of each, to the left a greatsword, to the right a glaive. However, there’s something else, and Newt has found it, a body, lying behind the sarcophagi- an ancient dwarven skeleton, Newt kicks it- it crumbles, even the waraxe it grips in its hands is rotten, but not the breastplate with griffon insignia. Carefully Newt drags it free of the rotten carcass, shows his find to the others.

“Anyone want this?”

“Jim, why don’t you have it- it’d suit you well, a bit of cleaning.” Cas states. Jim grins again, begins to shrug out of his Chainmail.

“No, not yet, let’s see what else awaits us.”

A bone pile collapses as Bec grabs for the greatsword.

“Can I have sandwich?”

He finds a space and practice swings, “it suits you.” Cas adds. The sword is serviceable, not great quality, Bec stows his spear and takes up the blade.

“Well… Do we or don’t we?” Cas stares at the sarcophagi.
Newt chuckles rushes over, begins to lever at the top stone.
“Bec, get here you freak.” Bec shuffles over grinning, swats Newt aside, and lifts the corner.

“Wait.” Anya shouts.

A cadaverous hand reaches out searching for Bec’s arm.

FWUMP

He drops the lid back down, trapping the hand.

“It says on the door to the chamber ‘Here lies Lord Tulwar, our… despicable leader’, that must be him then.” Anya finishes nodding towards the flailing hand.

“I’ve heard of him, can’t remember why though, despicable, that’s not good. Everyone ready?” Cas mentions.

The others form a half circle, weapons drawn; give each other plenty of room.

“Ok. Bec if you’d be so kind.” Cas points back at the sarcophagi’s lid.

“Hang on.”

Newt closes on the still twitching hand sticking out.

SMASH… SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH.

It’s pulp.

“Ok now I’m ready.” Newt grins.

Bec hauls off the lid, it CLUNKS to the floor. An emaciated figure, some ancient warrior returned as a ghoul, levers itself up- just.

CRUNCH

Jim’s battleaxe.

SMACK

Newt’s heavy mace comes again.

The creature is no more.

In a moment Newt is up the side of the sarcophagi and in. He rifles inside, eventually dumping the body out to get more room, “Nothin, although...” He trails off as he spots the pommel of the Ghoul warrior’s longsword- a ruby sat within it. 

“Leave it.” Cas comes over, “it may be enchanted, besides look at it- the dull sheen, it’s cold iron, like Mischa sickle, good against demonic foes. I shall wield it- if you please.”

Newt gurns, then grins, “have it, no use to me.”

Cas nods his thanks, “the chainmail the ghoul was wearing looks to be of good quality too, although it will take an age to remove the stink.”

All done the adventurers file out, no-one wants the chainmail, although Newt insists that Bec takes it as, “it could be worth a bob or two.”

The party return to the beetle chamber, except for Jim who takes the opportunity to change into his new breastplate, he has only one watcher, but for now, I’ll not tell who that is.

There are two passages from the chamber, the first, straight on, it seems to go for some distance.

“I suggest that’s the way to the Ogre’s cave.” Mischa states.
“Perhaps then we should see what awaits us that way, we don’t want leave any enemies behind us.” Cas points to the other exit.

They creep over, their torchlight illuminates another circular-ish cave, Newt sparks a sunrod, bathing the chamber in a glorious white light.

The floor of the cavern is littered with a miniature jungle of ochre coloured toadstools, the room is warmer- moist, and… there, up right, an opening about ten feet up the cavern wall.

Newt grins then goes to march in. Mischa grabs him, “they’re poisonous.”
“What?”
“The toadstools. The colour, a dead give away.”
“How the hell are they going to poison me, I’m not going to eat them you feckin Witch.”

Mischa shakes her head, gently touches Bec’s arm.

“Bec go get one of them beetles, a carcass… I mean body.”

Bec does as he’s told returns clutching a beetle.

“Now throw it… there.” Mischa points.

FLING-CRUNCH-SPPPPPPPRAY-SIZZZLE

The beetle is flung, crunch-lands, the toadstools hit release a fine spray, which eats its way through the carapace of the beetle. The thing’s not destroyed just half the mass it once was.

“Bloody hell.” Jim announces.
“Perhaps we should make a pathway to the ledge.”

Several minutes later it’s done.

Newt, of course, is first over, but he’s struggling at the wall.

“Feckin’ thing, give me a boost.”
“Can you not wait?” Cas is getting angry again.
“Fekowf tinman. BEC BOOST.”
Bec complies, the Gnome scrambles up onto the ledge.

“I’m going in.” Newt states as he disappears from sight.
“Pelor save me. Just hold on a minute.”

Bec stares up, then hops up, flaps a hand onto the ledge and drags himself after, he’s up in seconds. He points into the cave ahead, now brightly lit by Newt’s sunrod.

“There’s nothing up here.” Echoes from inside.

Bec stops, stares down at the others, shrugs. Then turns back, someone, Newt as it turns out, is whispering.

“Shhh. Come here Bec, here.”

Bec plods forward, and from below, “where’s he off to?”

Newt’s stands staring at the remains of a crude campsite, a very dead human lying on the floor.

“See.”

Newt squats and points, Bec looks, there’s something, correct that, some things wrapped around the half-skeleton human’s ribcage- they’re centipedes, a whole nest of them.

“Now give me that.” Newt takes Bec’s greatsword, balances it just, “and you have this”, he passes over his heavy mace, he’s still whispering. “If any of the buggers come out, smash ‘em.”

Bec grins- ready.

Newt hooks the tip of the greatsword through a strap on the dead guys backpack, tips the sword, it skitters down the blade, and into his hand.

“Hmmm HUmmm Hummmm.” Newt grins and hums as he works.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” From outside.

“Now this is the hard one.”

There’s a silver chain around the dead guys neck, it takes a little while but, as with all things shiny, it’s soon in the Gnomes grasp.

“Now, pass me that back, and grab your spear.”

Bec does as he’s told.

“Fun time.”

Newt steps in and.

CLUNK

He smashes his heavy mace down on the centipedes, destroying two of the creatures in one fell swoop. Three more burst from the nest, another remains coiled tightly around the dead guys frame.

Bec spears another- dead, the two left running snap and coil around their legs, alas in seconds they’re no more; which only leaves the one still coiled around the dead guy’s ribcage.

CRUNCH.

“There, all done.” 

Newt nudges Bec’s knee and grins up at him, “you can get off now- I’ll follow you out.”

Bec grins and goes to leave, Newt grabs him again, “Shhh, don’t tell the others- we’ll see if we can find some other fun later. Well done.”

Bec out of sight Newt drops down and pats down every inch of the corpse, there’s something there, he stuffs the backpack and the corpses cloak in a sack and then into his own haversack. Pockets the silver chain, actually it looks to be some sort of holy symbol.

And in less than thirty seconds he’s back at the ledge, a pair of monstrous centipedes in hand.

“What kept you?”

Newt throws them down.

“These did, if it wasn’t for Bec…”, he shrugs.

The giant man lifts Newt gently down.

The group head off again, the only passage left, to the Ogre.

By the time they’re two hundred feet down the passage they’re all in a crouch position moving as quietly as they can, they needn’t have bothered.

Next Turn: I will survivf, hic.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​
Turn 7 I will survivf, hic.

GrRRRRrrr SHHH GRRRRR SH Grind

The door is open, a huge chamber, light spills in from the exit over the far side of the cavern, as does a raucous noise.

“I will survive, I know I know how to live, I’m alive.
I had a piss, a piss of cheez, Ayeeeeeee will survivf, hic”

The singing stops, nobody moves.

“I should be so lucky- lucky, lucky, lucky.
Lucky, lucky, lucky- lucky in love.
Lucky, lucky, lucky.
I will survivf, hic.”

The soft thump of Ogre feet from a chamber beyond, the creature is obviously disco dancing.

The party find themselves in a store room, Cas has found a barrel, mostly empty, he taps it, there’s an “X” mark where he’s pointing.

“Poisoned.”

Cas nods towards the exit.

“Get ready, this is it.”

He gulps and then creeps forward, the others follow on.

Out of the storeroom, an Ogre sized passage right, another straight ahead, the noise of revelry ahead. 

The group creep forward, towards a huge chamber, the ceiling hidden from sight, a crackling fire in the centre, an enormous Ogre lurches around the chamber clutching a small keg, from which it swigs.

“I am the one an only, no body toooooooo.
OOooooooooooooooo.
…
Aye will survivf…”

“NOW.” Cas shouts.

Anya steps out of the shadows, points her wand at the creature, “Smidgin”, a force dart flies out and canons into the Ogre. Anya steps away again.

Newt, Jim and Mischa appear and open fire.

Thung

Newt’s crossbow bolt buries itself in the Ogre’s thigh.

Twong

Jim’s magical arrow catches the creature in its gut.

Thwung

Mischa’s arrow smashes the creature straight between the eyes, a critical hit; it staggers, puts its hands out for balance, finds nothing to hold onto and sinks to its knees.

DMs interlude- Critical Hit courtesy of Game Mastery Critical Hit Deck- very nice.

“I will…” The Ogre mumbles

Bec bursts through the crowd, greatsword in hand, charges.

“CAN I HAVE SANDWICH?”

SWWIK

And decapitates the Ogre.

“Survive?” Offers Lord Casimir, somewhat put out, his sword is only just out of its scabbard.

WOOOOOF

They turn in unison, back to the other passage.

And there endeth the first actual session of play.

Just a note about XP, I don’t give out a lot, so all the above, that's everything you've read so far, gets them-

Lord Casimir		140 XP
Mischa			167 XP
Jim Bowen		171 XP
Anya’Drea		189 XP
Bec			215 XP
Newt			401 XP

So you can see who’s in thick of it.

Next Turn: New Broom Sweeps Clean.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​
Turn 8 New Broom Sweeps Clean.

WOOOOF GRRRRRR	

Then the rattle of chains.

“Feck it, it’s chained up somewhere down there.” Newt strides into the Ogre’s chamber, there’s a huge chest.

“Hang on.”

The other members of the group freeze.

“There’s something coming.”

Bursting from the passage leaps a snarling wolf, trailing a rusty chain.

Anya spins around, points her wand, “Smidgin”, the Magic Missile strikes the wolf hard.

Thwong

Mischa’s arrow hits home.

Jim shuffles forward drops his bow, and grapples his battleaxe into position ready to meet the foe.

Cas charges in, “for Pelor.”

SLYCE

The second critical of the session, a deep blow, impaling the Wolf on Cas’ longsword. The Paladin turns back to the others, kicks the Wolf off his sword, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

And at that moment Gurt, the Ogre’s staunch hobgoblin follower, swings around the corner… and comes to a dead stop. He takes in the scene- dead Ogre, dead Wolfie, not a mark on the assembled crowd of adventurers, and where the hell did they come from? 

Gurt drops his shortsword.

“Please no hurt me. Me tell all.”

Thirty seconds later the hobgoblin is tied up, or at least his hands are, he’s pushed and prodded into the centre of the Ogre chamber.

Jim meanwhile has retrieved his magic arrow, it’s still intact.

“Right then, can you understand me?” Cas prods Gurt.
The Hobgoblin half-shrugs half-nods.
“I can speak Goblin.” Anya settles in, sits, she pats the seat next to her, Cas licks his lips, sits and settles down.

“What should I ask him, brave Paladin?” She places her hand on the Paladin’s thigh.
“Ask him, ahem, ask him who he is, what he’s doing here, and what’s down that passage he came from.”
“Very good.” Anya squeezes Cas’ thigh and starts up her Goblin speak, Cas interrupts- “You know I’m not a Paladin yet.”
Anya smiles, flutters her eye-lashes, and continues her interrogation; Cas sits there like a naughty schoolboy.

CLICK

“Done it.” Newt looks up, the Ogre’s chest is open, there’s a sea of silver coins inside, he begins transferring the contents into sacks- stuffing coins into his pocket all the while, more out of instinct. Bec comes over to help him.

“There you go.” Newt shoves a handful of the coins into Bec’s pockets.
“Can I have sandwich?”
“You certainly can when you get back to town.”

Jim and Mischa meanwhile are thoroughly searching the room; the two are working well together.

“What do you notice… about the wall?”
Jim stares hard, they’re nearly touching, he’s sweating.
“I…”
“Look there.” Mischa points.
“It’s…”
“Go on.”
“It’s a different colour than the other… It’s a door.”
“Good. Good, well done Jim”, she brushes against him, smiles, and heads for the wall.

“So.” Anya turns back to Cas, “he says his name is Gurt, he’s the Ogre, Blogg’s, servant, he was captured by the creature. He does the cooking and cleaning here. He says that the tunnel leads to the entrance, but it’s trapped- I think he knows we mean business. I think…” Anya leans across Cas, stares up into his eyes, she whispers, “anyone can see that you mean business Cas.” 
“Pelor save me.” The Paladin mumbles and gulps.

Newt and Bec wander over hefting sacks of coin.

“Tell him, tell him we mean him no harm, we will let him free.” Cas stares at Anya’s eyes, cleavage, yes- eyes, no- cleavage. She translates, Gurt nods, smiles and is kicked in the side by Newt, he sinks to the floor. Bec leers over him; Newt is on him and searching for funding.
“That’s an outrage, I told him we meant him no harm.” Cas is on his feet.
“As long as he plays ball then no harm will come to him. Now get back to your leering.”
Cas is about to explode.

“There’s a secret door here…”

Griiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind.

Mischa calls over, Jim nods. Cas changes his mind quickly and darts over to investigate, getting tangled in his sword and scabbard in his haste. Anya calls after him, “careful Cas, you don’t want to get blood on your sword.” She smiles cruelly.

Newt shows Bec the lump of Onyx he has just swiped from Gurt, he whispers, “more sandwiches big guy- stick with me.” He grins up at Bec and winks, Bec smirks back.

The group head through the secret door, except for Anya, who makes a discovery of her own.

“Furs”, she rushes over to the Ogre’s bedding, “yeuch”, the first few are smelly and horrible but beneath them are some quality pelts, including a Black Bear skin and a Red Fox pelt.

“Divine.” She sashays with the items draped around her. Then notices the others have departed, “hey wait for me.”

At the end of the newly found corridor is a ladder leading down into darkness.

“Out of the way, let me through.” Newt barges his way to the front.
“Newt, seriously, slow down- it may be trapped.” Cas offers.
Newt thinks about it, “get Gurt- stuff him down there.”
“You’re not honestly suggesting we use him to trigger any traps.”
“Exactly god-botherer.”
“That’s immoral.”
Silence.
“What’s your point?”
“It would be wrong, I will not allow it.”

Newt looks about him, Bec’s grinning, Anya’s not bothered- more concerned with her furs, Mischa and Jim are shaking their heads, and Cas looks stern.

“Oh alright, I don’t know, if you want a job doing you’ve got to do it yourself.”
Newt lowers himself over the edge, begins his descent, “I told you there’s nothing to be afraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…D.”

A rung of the ladder comes away in his hand, Newt crunches twenty-something feet to the hard stone floor below.

The sunrod he carries illuminates his face; he’s as pale as a ghost, spitting blood, only just clinging onto consciousness.

“Grab this.”
Jim and Bec take the strain, Mischa quickly ties her rope around her waist, scurries down the ladder- no more rungs break.

Ten seconds later she calls up, “he’s going to be ok.”
“Shame”, Cas whispers, looks up at the faces staring at him, “did I say that out-loud?”

Newt is soon up and about; his pride has taken the biggest dent, we re-join him mid argument, with Cas, again.

“And I say we get Gurt and use him to lessen the impact of some of the traps down here.”
“And I say that that would be wrong, against the teachings of Pelor, all life is precious Newt, even lowly forms like Hobogoblins, we are bound to preserve it.”
“You’re just scared. Bwwwwwwooork Bwok Bwok.”
Newt struts about chicken-like, pecking the air.
“Now that’s not an argument Newt.”
“Bwokkk Bwok Bwok Bwwwwwwooookkkk.”
“Please Newt, let’s just get through this… Please?”
“Bwok Bwok.” Newt pecks some more then smiles and creeps further down the passage.

Thirty seconds later his voice comes back.

“Bugger.”
“What is it?” Mischa calls.
“’Nother trap. Stay there.”

A minute more and the trap is cleared, a huge club set to swing down on anyone breaking the tripwire beneath it.

They troop on, Bec grabbing the Greatclub from the trap, along the way.

And into an Alchemist’s Laboratory- beakers, flasks and assorted glassware, other tables and chairs, open books, other books, a row of cloaks on pegs and in the corner a broom.

“Stay frosty people.” Cas is developing his vocabulary.

Anya and Newt eye each other and then run into the chamber, they’re both fond of chemistry sets.

“This is…” Newt looks at his new toys, “mine.”
Anya’s about to protest when she spots one of the cloaks, it has a silk lining, she rushes over to it, “and this is mine.”
“We’re not here just to grab things”, Cas reprimands them, “find out who this stuff belongs to- why it’s here?”

The group set about examining the chamber, which incidentally, has three more passages exiting it at the cardinal points, the group entered from the east.

Newt grabs some flasks- acid, he stows them away for later use.

Anya reads one of the books, then out loud.

“This stuff belongs to Suto, this is his, or her, diary. Listen to this- ‘The Voice Below spoke to me again, it whispered to me in my mind, it shares my passion to revenge the death of my father… What the hell is this place?”

Anya leaves off and the room returns to silence, everyone listening for the ‘Voice Below.’”

Whoops.

Jim trips over the broom.

“Sor…”

The broom dances forward and swats the would-be-Ranger with its bristle end, no real damage, just distracting and a bit stingy.

“Help, broom attack.” Jim screams from the floor, the broom lances at him, he catches the end, scrabbles to his feet- holds on. Bec is quickly over, grabs the other end. The broom pulls back and forth trying to dislodge either one of them.

“Hold on to it.” Cas offers.

Anya’s spotted something, she rolls onto the hard stone floor, immediately beneath the broom- she’s staring hard at the broomstick- there’s something written on it.

Mischa backs away; the broom tries again to get free, slips out of Jim’s hands and catches the woodsman beneath his jaw- he hits the deck, wounded pride once again. The broom swirls round in the air, winding up for the big hit on Bec.

“SPOT.” Anya yells, the broom becomes inanimate, drops into her clutches, she levers herself upright.

Studies the other words on the handle, sets it before her and. 

“Weesp.”

The broom clears the floor in front of Anya, makes sure no dirt gets on to what is left of her Dire Rat Fur Boots.

“I shall call him- ‘Swish.’”

The others stare on, open-mouthed. 

Anya recovers the diary, looks for something else to read aloud.

“Here’s another one- ‘I intend to finish my father’s task, I must locate the Codex Ilyium- has anybody any idea what we’re doing here now, or indeed what any of this stuff is about?”
“He’s a wizard, I’d guess, at least a meddler in the dark arts.” Mischa states.
“You mean he uses magic, that’s no biggie tree-lady, so do you, it’s just our magic, my magic, is more powerful than yours.”
Mischa looks put out, Jim rests a hand on her arm
“No use fighting, you’re right we’re in a wizard’s lair. Newt what do you think?” Cas turns to the Gnome.
“What do I care? I think Anya should read the book and we should stop guessing until we’ve got all the facts. I’m having the glassware though.”
Cas looks a little frustrated but nods for Anya to continue, the other adventurers find themselves places to sit.

Anya reads on.

“It is my intention to summon Frogroth a mighty demon to assist me in my search for the Codex… What?”

The others look suitably shocked, then more so when the first scream is heard. They leap to their feet; it came from the southern exit.

“AAAAAaaaaaaa  Heeeelllppppp us.”

They rush to the rescue.

Next Turn: Army of One.


----------



## Corran

Love it; keep em coming.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​

Turn 9: Army of One.

They rush down the passage way towards a chamber ahead, a portcullis blocks their path, Newt points, Bec stretches out an arm, snags it in a rope and pulls- the portcullis raises. They dash on and in while Bec works out how to tie the rope off.

A strange sight, a large chamber with eight or so cages- each a five foot square wooden cell; two of which are occupied. One by a screaming woman, the adventurers recognise her, Dayl, a serving girl from the Merry Riot- she disappeared on the same day that Pop and Ginger were killed. The other cage holds an aging Gnome in leather breaches, a craftsman by the look of things; the Gnome says nothing, stares into the middle-distance.

The strangest sight however is a Dwarvern carpenter, whistling and singing, putting together another of the cages.

“That’s Durbin, he fixed our roof.” Newt proclaims.
Durbin, for it is he, turns at the sound of his name, shrugs- grins, then continues with his work. 
“Never mind that- get them out of there.” Cas states.

Newt gets on with freeing Dayl.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you…” She mumbles all tears and hysteria.

Click.

The doors open.

“AAAArrrggh”

WHACK-FUNK

It goes like this, Newt opens the cage door, Durbin screams, picks up a lump of 2x4 and wraps it around the back of Newt’s head, Newt collapses- ko’d.

The adventurers clear a circle as Durbin menaces them.

“Why couldn’t you just leave it, Suto’s my friend, he doesn’t want you here, messing with his stuff… Go AWAY.”

He circles looking for someone else to hit.

Cas leaps in, “Clear the way, I shall disarm him.” He swings with the flat of his blade, misses by a country mile and hits Bec, hardly diverting him however, Bec has just managed to tie the rope off and is mid-rush about to save Newt.

“Sandwich?”

Bec pushes Lord Cas over, he hits the deck, and dashes on towards Durbin, who hefts the lump of wood up above his head ready to bring it crashing down, two-handed, onto Bec.

The giant man spots this, lurches in and grabs him up, arms wrapped around Durbin’s waist- crushing the life out of him.

“Suto’s my friend.”

Durbin’s arms are still free.

CRACK

He brings the 2x4 down onto Bec’s head, Bec sinks to his knees then slumps forward- ko’d, blood gushes from his broken skull.

Mischa scrambles over to look at Bec, Anya points the way to Swish, “Ackatt”, the broom attacks Durbin, keeping him at bay for a while.

Jim fumbles out his blade and stabs it towards Durbin, it buries itself a good three or four inches in to the carpenter’s gut.

“AAaaaaarrrghhh.”

“Keep him alive, if you can.” Cas shouts, then, “for Pelor”, he rushes in and punches Durbin with all his might, the carpenter hits the deck. Seconds later those not comatose are upon him, he’s hog-tied.

“He’s charmed.” Anya states.
“How do you know?” Mischa wonders.
“Look at me.” They all do.
“Well.”
“I’ve had lots of experience with charmed men, believe me.” She grins.

A little while later Bec has been healed by Mischa, Newt is conscious again.

Cas is making sure Dayl, the serving wench, is ok.
“Should we check for cuts and bruises.” Cas winks.
“Oh thank you my Lord, thank you, I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t saved me.”
Cas grins some more.
“I will have to certify that you’ve not received any psychological damage from your experience.”
“Lord?”
“I will have to examine you thoroughly on our return to Lowth.”
“Yes, Lord.”
The pair only have eyes for each other.

Meanwhile Newt has opened the other cage, he vaguely recognises the Gnome within, “hi my name’s…” he begins.

Crack

The Gnome punches Newt out, “I’m Jonas and I know who you are you scheming little thief.”

And that’s all we get from Jonas because Bec gets a second chance to revenge his short friend.

CRACK

The second Gnome hits the deck, and gets tied up for his troubles.

Après a quick search of the chamber the group file back to the Alchemist’s Laboratory.

“Can I have sand…”
Newt shoves a cheese bun in Bec’s mouth.
“… Wijj.”

They eat, watch over Durbin and Jonas, Cas feeds Dayl by hand, it looks like he may lose a finger, she must be ravenous.

Anya gets back to Suto’s journal- reads on, stopping to read aloud any of the good bits, like-

“I have purchased at great expense, not my own, but courtesy of the kind people of Lowth, a scroll which will enable me to summon Frogroth, and yet I do not feel I am ready to chance the spell, I need desperately to increase my power.”

“So it was Suto- controlling the Ogre, we’d better be careful.” Cas states.
The others nod between bites.
“He charmed the Ogre?” Mischa offers, Anya nods.
“Either way he’s a wizard of some sort, that’s certain.” Newt adds.

Anya finds some more to read.

“I have taken precautions; purchased a magic oil which I will use to coat my weapons less The Voice Below prove duplicitous.”

“We should find that before taking on ‘The Voice Below.’” Cas declares.
“You’re so clever… and brave.” Dayl reaches for Cas’ hand, holds it, kisses it.
“Get a room.” Newt snarls.
Anya looks less than happy, just for a moment mind.

She reads on awhile.

“Here’s the last entry- in one more day I will have finished, the magic circle will be complete, then all will be ready- Frogroth will at last serve me.”

That makes everyone sit up, “When’s it dated?” Mischa asks.
“Ummm. Yesterday.”

The adventurers leap to their feet.
“Come on.” Cas heads off north.

Mischa meanwhile has been amongst them healing all their wounds, she tucks away her medical supplies, only two uses of her healing salve left, one of her Healing Kits is also finished, one kit left.

They stumble into what looks to be the living quarters of someone- Suto most likely, a thick red carpet on the floor, a desk and chair- the desk strewn with papers, a large bookcase crammed with texts, a crude bed with a chest as a bedside cabinet. Newt’s already at the lock.

“A quick search, if there’s nothing here we move on. Try to keep the noise down.” Cas warns.

Mischa and Jim head for the bookcase, grab books, fumble through them.

Silently two thick tomes glide from the bookcase and hover into the air.

WHACKx2

And slam, in unison, into the back of Mischa and Jim.

The pair spin around, look embarrassed for a second, and then scramble for their weapons.

Newt meanwhile is having problems with the chest, “bloody thing won’t open.” He slams his fist into the top of the chest, so much for keeping the noise down.

Cas and Anya dive in, both grab the same book, there’s a brief struggle and then the dusty tome springs free again, just in time to be skewered by Bec’s spear.

Newt bangs again on the lid of the chest, whatever’s in it is probably broken by now.

The other book comes at Jim, dashes forward and slaps him around the face, he sees red and slices down hard, the book falls to the floor, flutters its pages for a while, neatly cut in two.

Silence for a second, then…

“Fecking chest wont open.”

Each word accompanied by the thud of Newt’s fist smashing into the lid.

Bec steps in, grabs his greatclub, and swings with all his might.

CRUNCH

The lid of the chest is caved in.

“Ta.” Newt smiles up at the giant man.

And in the same instant a tiny Viper leaps from its position, coiled within the chest, and sinks its fangs into the Gnomes knee.

“AAaaaargh.”

Newt rolls backwards, comes up one hand on his knee, which oozes blood and some black liquid, the other on the hilt of his dagger.

The Viper goes to strike again but Newt is too quick, his dagger darts out, and severs the Viper’s head.

Mischa rushes over, already casting, the area around Newt’s knee glows and pulses, “It’s poisoned; here take this- drink it.” She hands over an Antitoxin Potion; Newt grits his teeth and swigs the foul brew. He feels woozy.

Several minutes later the group are back on their feet, Newt is not feeling very well, his leg hurts a lot and his head seems to be full of fog. Jim’s face still stings from the book slap he received. 

Once again Mischa has had to use her healing skills, the second Healer’s Kit has been broached and there’s only one use of her salve left.

The chest contains a blank spellbook- Anya takes it; a ring of keys, they guess they’re for the cells- Newt takes them; and another diary, this one’s written by someone called Erasmus, Anya begins to read it.

“Who the feck is Erasmus?” Newt enquires to shrugs.
“Suto’s father, or at least I think so.” Anya states.

“We should read this.” Anya continues.
“No time.” Cas is certain.

The six gather their stuff and head off.

And into the western passage from the Alchemist’s Laboratory.

They get a way down the passage when…

“Squeeeee…”

Next Turn: Suto


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​

Turn 10: Suto

“Squeee…”

Thunk

Jim’s magic arrow silences the Shrieker in a moment.

“Quickly now.” Cas leads them on.

Through a grand pair of stone doors and into a large chamber some twenty-five feet wide and forty feet long. In the centre of the floor a carved pentagram, it shines in the torchlight- silver. Beyond the pentagram a brazier full of roaring flame, illuminating in the far wall a carving of the face of some frog-like demon- Frogroth, the mouth extends, serves as an altar, the demon’s eyes twinkle- gemstones. Before the altar a deep dark circular hole, like a well shaft, plunges into darkness. 

A stooped wrinkled man, ancient by the look of him, hovers in the air at the far end of the chamber.

Newt silently appraises the rooms contents, rubs his hands together in glee, and then tenses as the pain in his leg brings him to a sudden halt.

Suto, for it is he, grins, scoops his hand into the fire, and screams-

“IGNATO.”

A flaming creature leaps from the brazier, Suto giggles, floats up higher, out of reach.

“Smidgin.”

Anya darts in wand pointing at Suto, nothing happens, the magic fades.

Mischa tries her luck, claps her hands together and shouts.

“ARIEL.”

A Hawk appears, squawks, and dives at Suto, he struggles with the bird for a second and then swats it away, not without paying the price, blood flows from a cut on his cheek.

Newt hops in, readies his crossbow, at the last moment his leg gives way preventing him from getting a shot off.

Jim however targets his magic arrow, it flies, and misses. Bugger.

Cas salutes, “for Pelor”, and launches himself at the Fire Elemental, slices into it- connects with something, but in the same moment is engulfed in flame, he staggers back, on his last legs already, badly burnt.

Bec wades in, pushes Cas aside, and smashes the Fire Elemental to smithereens with his now smoking Greatclub. 

Suddenly the sunrod, which Anya’s holding, sparks, fizzles then flares, she drops it just in time, it’s entirely consumed, a cloud of black smoke fills the chamber, and in particular the adventurer’s vision.

Anya rushes forward, unafraid- seemingly, “Smidgin.” A magic Missile darts out and thumps into Suto, she’s got the wand working again. 

Mischa’s Hawk screams in claws and scratches at Suto’s torso. 

Mischa rushes out of the smoke, momentarily turned around, she searches for Cas- she must save him, spots him, runs over only to find he’s swigging from a potion vial, his wounds disappearing. He catches her eye, ashamed. 

Newt staggers out of the smoke, awkwardly crouches and fires, killing Mischa’s summoned Hawk in an instant.

“Bugger.”

Jim reacts badly to the cloying smoke, collapses and lies choking on the floor, unseen by the others.

Bec drops his greatclub, hefts his long spear and chucks it at Suto, it wobbles in flight, not really meant as a missile weapon, and yet its aim is true.

Thuds into, and through, Suto’s chest, the wizard gargles his last words.

“The Voice Below.”

And thumps to the floor dead.

Everybody left alive takes a breath.

Mischa, face still thunder, doles out what healing she has left. Jim is dragged from the smoke, which is clearing, and sips water trying to recover his breath.

Newt has already pried both eyes from the idol- topaz and of great quality, only one of them finds its way into the ‘party haul.’

There are other discoveries, not the least of which is Suto’s spellbook, which causes Anya to jump for joy, she knows it now- she’s a proper wizard.

Judicious use of Anya’s Detect Magic spell also snares her a protection ring, several scrolls and two flasks of, obviously, the magic oil mentioned in Suto’s diary.

There are also some silver ingots in the room, and as they first thought the pentagram is etched in silver.

However…

“The Voice Below.” Cas looks down the hole.

Newt wanders over to and gobs down it.

“Use the rope.” Mischa ties her rope around the Paladin’s waist- he’s lowered into the black.

“Ok?” Anya calls after him. Bec’s taking the strain.
“Yep, keep it coming.” The Lord descends, and then suddenly is engulfed in a pall of black fog, that leeches into him.

Momentarily he feels the terror of the unknown surround him, and then as if someone had lit a candle in his heart and head, the blackness fades- Pelor is within him.

“Pull me back up.”
“Everything ok?” Mischa enquires.
“Certainly, we’ll need the oil though, there’s something down there.”

Back up top Cas has changed, everyone notices, they smile for some strange reason.

“Bec take a rope, tie it round Newt. Newt I want you to be lowered in after me. You’re the best we’ve got in a tight spot.” Newt finds himself grinning, stops it as soon as he realises. Cas continues, “Anya, Mischa- keep your eyes on the pit, if anything comes out of there I want you to drop my rope- regardless of where I am, and nail it with whatever you’ve got. Jim help out, watch everything, we don’t want any accidents.”

He pours a little of the magic oil over his blade and Newt’s heavy mace, leaves the rest up top.

He nods to each member of the team, they nod back in turn.

“Right then- death or glory.”

He salutes drops a sunrod into the dark and then steps over the side, Newt follows soon after.

The pair descend forty feet into a ten foot diameter chamber, its obvious there’s something there, but where- there’s nothing visible.

A small demonic looking human, complete with bat-like wings and a stinger tail appears, lashes out with its barbed tail, Cas however is ready for it, dodges and swipes, his weapon leaves a bloody gash across the creatures face and chest.

The Quasit screams.

“Would ya adam 'n eve it?”

And flutters, at speed, up the shaft.

“It’s coming.”

Time passes.

Eventually.

“When?” Anya cries.
“It should be with you now.”

Nothing happens.

“Pull me up.”

Cas is hauled back up, leaving Newt alone to find the hidden treasure cache, inside of which is a minor fortune in jewels, Newt steals an earring, he’s feeling good about himself, and his fellow adventurers- perhaps it’s time he started sharing.

Back up top there’s nothing to be seen, the Quasit it seems has escaped.

“Invisible.” Anya states and listens hard- there’s nothing to be heard.

They grab all that they can carry, which includes the silver from the pentagram, which Newt gouges out, and head for home, freeing Gurt the Hobgoblin when they exit the cave.

The Ogre is dead and the adventure is over, at least for now, they head back to Lowth- with Dayl, Durbin the carpenter, and Jonah, the other grumpy Gnome.

That concludes Goodman Games #0 Legends are Made, not Born.

XP Totals
Player			XP1		XP2		Total
Jim			171		412		583
Lord Casimir		140		449		589
Anya			189		409		598
Mischa			167		454		621
Bec			215		411		626
Newt			401		411		812

They’re all up to 1st level.

Next Turn: Review.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​

Turn 10a: Review

At the end of each of the scenarios, which will all be ‘shop bought’, and for this lot from Goodman Games, I will attempt to explain what I, and the players, thought was good and bad about the product, perhaps explain any crunchy bits, or relate other tales.

To begin with an extended word about my players.


Cas is played by Mr. R. who in the real world fiddles with computers, I think, he’s worming his way up to a senior management post though so I shouldn’t think he even remembers how to switch a computer on, he probably has someone to do it for him. With 26 years role-playing games experience, he’s the senior partner (beating me by a week), he specialises in playing characters that try to manage the other players function, and everyone has a function, believe Mr. R. He’s prone to speculating the outcome of his characters actions, sometimes to the nth remove, like some chess grand master.

Mr. R. (as Cas)- I pull down the lever swiftly, dodge right, tight against the wall, that should prevent any sudden attacks from the room beyond. I’ll have my longsword part drawn, and… hang on, I’ll place my bow down first so I can release the sword if the enemy is at a distance and get a couple of missile shots, remember I’ve got cover though. Ok, that’s it… What happens?

DM- The door opens, the sound of music and laughter drifts towards you.

Mr. R.- I sneak a look, careful once again not to spill my bow… keeping my hand on my sword just in case. What do I see? I’ve got +6 on spot, do you want me to roll, I rolled an 18 anyway, that’s 24…

DM- There’s a tavern, it’s pretty full. Several farmers walk in giving you a funny look on the way.

Mr. R.- (Thinks about it) Do any of them Detect as Evil?

DM packs up books and goes home. 

It, of course, doesn’t help that I grew up with Mr. R.


Mischa is played by Mrs. R., I know what you’re thinking, you’re right- Mrs. R. now bares the burden of living with Mr. R., I feel very sorry for her, and at the same time very thankful. In the real world Mrs. R. proof-reads science journals before publication, I think that’s what she does, lots of fact checking is involved, which comes in handy. Mrs. R. has been playing role-playing games for about 20 years, almost exclusively with Mr. R. Her characters are a lot less noisy and/or demonstrative, they do however get on with things, and they’re usually very clever. She also spends a little time during each adventure alternatively trying to save Mr. R. from a beating, or, more often, proving him wrong.

Mrs. R. (as Mischa)- I drag Cas into the bar, sit him down with a drink and face him towards the likeliest looking quest giver. I’ll mingle but keep in earshot in case he starts offending people- I’ll cast Goodberry as soon as I can, it’ll save time in the long run.

DM nods sagely.

It should be noted at this point that having earlier decided that she would like to play a Druid, Mischa; Mrs. R has now decided that she’s like to play a Cleric, that’s her privilege, so in the next scenario she’ll be playing- Ala.


Newt is played by Mr. W. who’s a website designer/controller, another IT wizard. He has been role-playing for approx 20 years also. He plays characters that almost always seek to undermine the hero, usually by doing fairly heroic things for less altruistic motives; he’s not after saving the princess unless she’s sitting on a treasure chest stuffed with diamonds. He is also possessed of a sense of humour, which almost always comes to the fore when someone else (Cas, for obvious reasons) is making an fool of themselves.

Mr. W. (as Newt)- I’ll buy a drink and loiter, any of these rich farmers deep in conversation, any games of chance- likely marks.

DM- There’s only one person that seems to be fully engrossed in what he’s doing.

Mr. W.- One born every minute, I’ll sidle over, what’s he look like- the mark? What’s he doing?

DM- He’s talking to a farmer about crop rotation, how important it is to get it right, he’s very passionate about it, oblivious to everything else that’s going on.

Mr. W.- (Thinks a while) It’s Cas isn’t it? 

DM nods.

Mr. W.- I’ve got +6 Pick Pocket, I’ll see what I can get, he’s gotta learn sometime.

DM (turns to Mischa)- You’re watching this… Do you say anything?

Mrs. R.- Nah, Newt’s gotta make a crust.


Jim is played by Mr. A. who also fiddles with computers, there seems to be a lot of it about, either they’re extremely popular gadgets or they keep going wrong, or maybe it’s both? Mr. A. has been role-playing for approx 18 years; he bought the D&D 3.5E Players Handbook four years ago and has not read a word of it yet- they say he is an excellent DM. He makes for a, sometimes, quiet side-kick; he likes to be involved in the action, although he veers between the over-cautious and the, seemingly, fearless.

Mr. A. (as Jim)- What spells can I cast?

DM- None. You’re a first level Ranger.

Mr. A.- Can I see Newt stealing Cas’ money, +4 Spot?

DM- Yep.

Mr. A.- Right if it gets out of hand I’ll punch him in the face.

DM- Which one?

Mr. A.- (Thinks) Hang on… has anyone got a dice I can borrow?


Bec is played by Miss E., who’s the real time partner of Mr. A., in the real world she taps at a computer, I think, supervises a shift maybe. It’s not clear. Miss E. has been playing role-playing games for approx 15 years. She plays the same character every time, at least in the games I DM, the strong and almost totally silent type- the lug of a lad that basically means no harm, she’s as quiet as a mouse. Although very prone to ‘going off on one’, which usually ends, or rather starts, with acts of extreme violence and aggression- the term ‘tank’ also springs to mind.

Miss E. (as Bec)- Er…

DM- Bec?

Miss E.- Is there a bar?

DM- Yeeeeees. It’s a tavern.

Miss E.- Right. Er…

DM- Bec?

Miss E.- Hang on. Er… I’ll go over…

DM- And?

Miss E.- Ask the barman…

DM- What?

Miss E.- Does it look like they do food?

DM- Are you going to ask for a sandwich again?

Miss E.- Er… OK.

DM rolls randomly on sandwich filling table.


And lastly, Miss P., who’s my better half. She spends her waking hours, and some of what should be her sleeping hours, managing a technical department (which among things deals with computers- insidious beasts); the rest of the time is spent forgiving me. Miss P. has been playing role-playing games for a little less than three weeks (at the time the above scenario was completed); she’s played twice then- obviously. She doesn’t like it, but she likes the idea of an imaginary new wardrobe, and will soon take to cutting up catalogues, she doesn’t like the idea that they’re animal skins she’s collecting, but understands that this is make-believe. Her ideal character, she says, is a Dalek. I’ve tried explaining- believe me.

Miss P.- What’s everyone wearing?

DM drops his dice.

Miss P.- I strut around giving everyone a good eyeful, is everyone looking at me yet?

DM- They’d be mad not to.

Miss P.- Good.

DM- Anything else.

Miss P.- No, that’s it.

And so onto the scenario

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters​
Overall score out of 10: 6.8
Play time: Approx 4.5 hours.

Review:

A good first scenario, nice idea that they start at 0th level and work their way up to a proper character class, also ensures that they’re good for a few extra hit points, saves and skills by the time they hit first level.

The overall scenario, while nothing new, is well constructed, the players particularly liked the back way in, with its potential minor mishaps and monsters along the way- nice build up to the Ogre. Which was of course too easy- see quotes below. The kicker, the twist in the tail, the secret Wizards lab et al was again, perhaps, too easy.

DMs Caution:

The problem with role-playing with people with near enough 100 years experience is that they understand the full potential of their characters, even when they don’t know how they do it, what dice to roll, skill to use- Mr. A., they understand that Sense Motive is a good skill, that lots of traps look the same, that a lot of the times not saying anything is often the best policy. They likewise appreciate that encounters can be overcome in a myriad of ways, and yet they seem to love fighting, and therefore ‘tool up’ to ensure that they have the advantage wherever possible. They’ve developed techniques along the way that no matter how hard they try to role-play their character they’re not about to see them die when they know the right answer.

Notes and Quotes:

Everybody liked the Dire Skunk, this was indeed the moment that Jim decided that his Rangers mortal enemy would be Dire Animals, that may have been because the creature emptied its bladder on him.

Mr. A. (Jim) says-

“He’s pissed on me? Right that’s it… I hate them… Badgers, whatever it is.”

Five of the six characters expressed delight that there were Fire Beetles to kill, they were disappointed that there wasn’t at least one Stirge; the pair being almost mandatory first scenario fodder.

The poisoned mushrooms were avoided for the simple reason that they always appear here, in this type of scenario- yes, Ala’s a Druid, and therefore at one with all of nature, but mushrooms are almost always to be avoided, except for the single poisonous looking ones that either heal you to full or give you +1 on one stat for the rest of the day.

Blogg, the Ogre, was too easy because, to quote Mr. R. (Cas)-

“The end of level bad guy is always easy because everyone’s sub-consciously saving up for that moment, also, at lower levels, and in this scenario in particular, we knew what we were looking for.”

He speaks like that- honest. I don’t know how anyone stands it for longer than a gaming session.

In the alchemists (Suto’s) lab, after reading out the room’s description, ending in the silk cloak. 

Miss P. (Anya) says-

“Did you say ‘Silk Cloak’, what colour is it?”

To which, Jim asks, “Do you think it’s magical?”

“That depends on the colour?” 

The captured carpenter made them laugh, as did the punchy Gnome, which also upset at least one of them.

Mr. W. (Newt) says-

“What d’you mean he hits me. I’m not knocked out. A? What’d he do that for? You can’t have Gnome-on-Gnome violence. It’s not right. We’re the little people, kind and gentle…”

The others stare in disbelief.

“There must be something wrong with him. In the head. He’s not right. It’s not Gnome-like.”

And when there wasn’t time to finish the entire scenario in the same session, the reason we stopped was.

Miss E. (Bec) says-

“I’m starving. Can I have sandwich?”

The final ending- Suto, and “The Voice Below”, proved to be somewhat of an anti-climax, possibly because, again, they knew most of what to expect, but also because of Suto, and I fudged it so he had all of his protections cast on him, and I cheated on at least two other dice rolls- the Hawk’s attacks included, it would have been more of an anti-climax if the bad guy got killed in two rounds by a summoned Hawk. And I made it so that Newt’s crossbow bolt killed the summoned Hawk. And when Suto failed his concentration checks, well… he didn’t- if you catch my drift. And still Suto was too weak, as for the Quasit, I didn’t want to give them the pleasure.

And so, I think Mrs. R. (Mischa) should finish us of, she said, on spotting Cas swigging from a Potion of Healing, which he must have just ‘magicked’ up because he never told anyone he had it before-

“Typical, Lawful Good, and a Paladin- and he lies. That’s you all over.”

Thanks for reading.

Next Turn: After the Party


----------



## Goonalan

The Goodman Gang, that’s what we’re calling them, for now anyway.

Turn 11: After the Party.

The village of Lowth is a happier place, for many reasons. The citizens go about their business a little more safe and secure, after all the Ogre’s dead, and so is Newt.

It’s been four weeks since the brave adventurers returned- Lord Cas, Jim, Bec & Anya.

And for the six, yes I did say six adventurers; life has changed or is, as we speak, in the process of changing forever.

Jim & Mischa.​
Four weeks ago Jim went home, a hero in the pub and town, but still a ‘nobody’ back on his family’s farm. He went back to… heartbreak. The thing he remembered the most about his adventure in the Ogre’s cave was the moment on the return journey when Mischa turned to him and said-

“I’ve got to go, I can’t do this.”
“What… What’d you mean?” Jim looks suddenly lost in the dark forest.
“I can’t be like this.” Mischa shrugs, looks about her, feels the cool air of the morning on her face.
“This is my place- in the forest, not in some dark hole.”
Jim gawps. “But…”
“But nothing Jim, I’m sorry but I can’t be like you, I can’t take part in the slaughter, and some of the others… they mean well, mostly, but their motivations- greed, justice- ha, vanity, even you… you want to prove something. I’m not like that.”
A tear falls onto Jim’s armour.
“Oh, come on- it’s not that bad. We’ll see each other around. You’ll still be at the farm, I’ll visit, I promise.”
Jim sniffs, wipes his nose on his sleeve.
Mischa hugs him, holds him, and then pecks him on the cheek.
“Be careful.”
And then she’s gone.

Jim shakes his head; he’s back home, in his bed, something woke him. And being awake it starts again- the sadness fills him, four weeks, no Mischa- she lied to him, she had no intention of visiting, all she wanted was to get away, to get away from him. 

Thunk

The sound again, a familiar sound, he goes to lie down… then stops.

Thunk

A stifled sob.

Jim gets up. Rone his brother wakes, there are four of them in the bed, Jim squats down places a finger over his brother’s lips- whispers, “shush”, then stands and grabs his father’s old Battleaxe, it’s been sat in the corner of his room for four weeks now, gathering dust.

He creeps out of his room, and along the landing.

Thunk

A sob again.

He stops at a door.

Takes a huge breath and pushes it open with his toe.

He’s seen it before, but each time it scares him, his father astride his mother- drunk again, punches and slaps, between hissed threats.

“What’d’you wan?”

His father half turns.

Jim steps closer.

“G’back t’bed.”

Closer.

“I sed…”

SHHHHHHHHK

The blade of the axe makes hardly a sound, he heaves his father over, and onto the floor, there’s a lot of blood already. 

His mother gasps air, hiccup snivels as if trying to say something, to scream, to shout, to breathe.

THHHHHHHHK

He draws the axe back out, grips it tight to him, tears fall.

Bends down over his mother, smoothes her hair, and then kisses her forehead.

“I’ve got to go now.”

She half-smiles half-cries- reaches out for his hand.

But he’s gone.

Outside in the cold morning, just like that morning four weeks ago, Jim walks his father’s horse a little way from the farmhouse, then leaps on board, spurs the creature and is away- forever.

A hooded figure, unseen at the edge of the woods, halts their journey, turns to stare as Jim races by, the figure slumps hard against a tree; a hand comes up and pulls down the hood of the cloak, the figure waits- hardly breathing. 

Then turns; Mischa walks back into the woods, and her old life.


Lord Casimir.​
Lincorn Cathedral, the largest temple to Pelor in all of Lincornshire, evensong, the voices of angels. Cas continues with his letter.

The food is first rate, we had veal last night in a plum sauce, a really thought Paladin-hood would mean hardship and having to make-do, but here I am living the high life, I’m afraid I may have even put on a little weight- filled out. That said they work us hard, and not just at the books, although it’s best to know the Book of Common Prayer backwards, Pelor knows what question Father Darus is going to dream of asking us next. The countryside is beautiful around here, as is the city, there are plenty of places to go on our nights off, and the locals are very welcoming. I feel as though I am at last growing up, becoming a man, the choices that have lead me here seem to be so far in the past. I’m so glad I made them, that you helped me to make them. I miss you and father, so much, as I’ve said the place is wonderful, and the people, but it’s not like home. 

All of my studies are going well, you’ll be pleased to hear I got a first in fencing, and after only three weeks of training- my Sword Master, Dr. Valerius, says I am a natural, I guess by natural he’s referring to the four hours extra training I’ve been putting in with the blade most days. My favourite class though is “Leadership”, it’s taught by a bluff old ex-Major by the name of Gurnik, he shouts and fumes quite a lot but all that he says… well, it’s amazing what you can learn. I bless Pelor for everyday I spend here, for every hour of instruction I receive. 

Anyway, it’s getting late and I want to make sure this gets to matron so that it’s on the coach of the morrow, I’ll just read through it again, check for any silly errors, and then put it in the post. I miss you all terribly, tell father I shall see him the next time he comes into the city, and mother, kiss little James for me, and shake Frank by the hand, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.

Your Loving Son,

Casimir La Frond.

Cas reads the letter through again, stands and walks over to the window, something outside catches his eye, it’s dark and yet…

A little while later, in the same spot, two robbed figures stand shoulders bowed, whispering.

“And all you found was the letter?”
“Yes Father, the window was wide open- Lord Casimir, it seems, has gone.”

“And you say you spoke to him earlier, he was at the window then?”
“Yes Father.”
“Well… What did he say?”
“I asked him if everything was alright, he was staring out of the window, smiling.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said, ‘Perfect’, and then grinned.”
“He did what?”
“Grinned Father.”
“Grinned?”
“Yes Father, like this.” The Acolyte beams in the half-dark, Father Darus scowls, mutters, and shuffles off- now what to tell the parents.

Anya.​
Anya sits in the bar of the Merry Riot, Lowth- her head fizzing with ideas, formulas, theories- she hasn’t done her hair for three days now, well she’s combed it a couple of times, and used a minor prestidigitation spell to heat up a pair of metal tongs to get the fringe to hang right, but she hasn’t done her hair properly- the full works.

She sips some more of the Goat’s Milk, it’s good for the complexion, and works through a magical formula in her head, this one will enable her to find hidden doors, concealed places, already she can see a way, a better way, to shape the incantation- she giggles. She hasn’t felt this good since her father had sent her the money for a ‘Yes St. Laurence’ Sable and Hippogriff cape with Ermine sheen. She shakes her head, clothes will have to wait, she’s a wizard now.

“Why dun ya turn me inta frog den missy?”

He looks like a pig-farmer, he smells like a pig-farmer, oh Wee Jas, here we go again.

“I’m sorry?”
“There’uns no need to be sorree, young missy.”

The pig-farmer approaches, slurring his words, and his legs.

“Tha’s say yous a witch. Tha’ ain’t ryte is it? Bootiful gurl like yous.”
“Look if you don’t mind, and I can see that you’re awfully busy, I have to get some things sorted out, I’m working- thinking, if you’d just be so kind as to leave me alone…”

This was her new tack, be nice to them, try to gently tell them to go away.

“Oh, wud I mine awfully, and yer busy, and yer thinkin’ begging yer please.”
“And so if you wouldn’t mind… please…”

The drunk pig-farmer looks at her a while longer, makes up his mind, turns and wanders off, mid-stride changes his mind again and starts back.

“Yer weren’t always so hoity-toitty, I member yew when yous wer dis ‘igh, an’ yer mother, an she nivver wur sew well mannared. As I recal she didna use sutch big wurds, on accownt of ‘er ‘avin sum fellers co…”

WHUMP

The pig-farmer flies a good ten feet before thumping into the back wall of the bar, slides down and ends up in a heap on the floor.

And Bec.​
Bec leans his mop against the bar, wanders over to where the pig-farmer lays. Anya grabs his arm.

He likes her touch, he thinks, and follow this closely; softtouchwarmspreadingfarmerstupidfarmerpigsmellyoinkoinkSMASHhahafarmerpigsmellyoinkoinkstilltouchwarmspreadingAnyalovelythensometimegoneawaytheninOgreCavethengonesometimegoneawayAnyabacksandwich.

“Sandwich?”

Bec looks up, Anya’s half-way to the door, he goes to pick his broom back up, but Anya’s pointing now, past him, Bec turns around, the barman’s holding something out for him to take, he stares at the package till he hears Anya’s voice.

“Bec, come on, get my bags, we’re going… and don’t forget your sandwich.” The barman motions again with his package, as Anya steps out of the Inn.

Bec grins, grabs the sandwich and Anya’s bags and follows.

Ala.​
She’d been waiting quite a while, she didn’t like Lincorn, too busy- too many people not enough trees for her liking. She decides to wait a little while longer, it’s getting dark, she knows he’s up there, and then… he is.

She watches him at the window, he must be talking to someone, he turns away for a second, her heart skips a beat, and then he’s back and looking right at her.

She says nothing, he says nothing- time passes, it gets darker.

And then he climbs out.

Thirty minutes later they’re out of town, nestled in the back of an empty hay cart winding its way down a lonely road, the farmer sings a song about the stars and the moonlight- they still haven’t touched, they still haven’t spoke, they’re both just smiling.

She hopes it will last forever.

So does Cas.

Newt.​
“You’re dead.”
Newt nods.
“I’ve taken the posters down like you said.”
Newt passes over a small pouch of gold.
The speaker ups and leaves.

The inhabitants of the Smuggler’s Inn, in the port town of Grimbo, continue to shout, cry, drunk, sick, fight, snarl and spit- all is well with the world, except for an itch that for four weeks now Newt has failed to scratch.

He’d left them in the woods, on the way back from the Ogre’s Cave, he didn’t want to go back to Lowth, he knew what was waiting for him, it was easy enough to just slip away- nobody missed him.

Time stood still.

“Nobody missed him.”
“What?”

He hadn’t realised he’d spoken aloud.

“I said…”

Newt takes a good look at the stranger swaying slightly before him, a dockworker, all corded muscle and pent up frustration.

Newt stands up.

“I said feck you yer fairy…”

FUMP.

The beating takes quite a while, passers-by, concerned with the miss-match, try repeatedly to drag the dockworker off of him, and yet each time Newt manages to find something insulting enough set him going again, even though it becomes increasingly difficult to talk through the wreck of his mouth.

When it’s over, when he can talk no more, he lays there in his own blood till they throw him out into the street, and there in the gutter he realises that he feels no better, and that death isn’t the answer; and that although nobody misses him… he misses them.

He leaves Grimbo the next day, a little less itchy than before.

Next Turn: Catch Up.


----------



## Tsillanabor

Well that took a serious turn. Not that I mind, of course. Powerful stuff.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho.
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 12: Catch Up

And so a moment to catch up with our intrepid explorers.

“Jim” Bowen​
Human Male Ranger Level 1 
NG HP 12 AC 18 Init +2
Str 14 Dex 15 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 12 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +4 Ref +3 Will +1
+1 Battleaxe (family heirloom) +4 d8+3 
Longbow (Masterwork) +4 d8 or Rapid Fire +2/+2  
Dagger +3 or +3 d4+2
Armour: Chainmail and Light Wooden Shield.

Feats: Skill Focus (Trapmaking), Point Blank Shot, Track, Favoured Enemy- Dire Animals, Ranger Two-Weapon Fighting, Rapid Shot. 

Skills of note: Animal Empathy +3 Climb +4 Craft (Trapmaking) +6 Handle Animal +4 Hide +6 Jump +4 Knowldege (Nature) +3 Listen +3 Move Silently +5 Wilderness Lore +5

Items of note: Potion Cure Lt x2.

Bec​
Human Male Barbarian Level 1
CG HP 16 AC 14 Init +1
Str 18 Dex 12 Con 18 Int 11 Wis 8 Ch 9 
Saves Fort +6 Ref +1 Will -1
Long Spear +5 d8+6  
Dagger +5 or +2 d4+4
Greatclub +5 d10+6
Armour: Studded Leather.

Feats: Toughness, Power Attack & Cleave.

Skills of note: Climb +8 Concentration +4 Jump +7 Ride +3 Spot +3 Swim +7 Use Rope +4

Items of note: Climbers Kit, Potion Cure Lt x2.

Lord Casimir​
Human Male Paladin Level 1 
LG HP 12 AC 17 Init +1
Str 15 Dex 13 Con 14 Int 14 Wis 11 Ch 14 
Saves Fort +6 Ref +3 Will +4
Longsword (Cold Iron Masterwork) +4 d8+2 
Longbow +2 d8 
Light Mace +3 d6+2
Armour: Shiny Breastplate & Sparkling Light Steel Shield

Feats: Negotiator, Dodge, Mobility.

Skills of note: Diplomacy +8 Handle Animal +6 Knowledge (History) +5 Knowledge (Local) +7 Knowledge (Religion) +5 Ride +5 Sense Motive +6 Spot +4 

Items of note: 3 Flasks of Holy Water, 5 Silver Arrows.

Anya’Drea​
Human Female Wizard Level 1 
CG HP 10 AC 14 Init +5
Str 10 Dex 13 Con 12 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 17 
Saves Fort +1 Ref +1 Will +2
Quarterstaff (Masterwork) +1 d6 
Sling (actually an old pair of her leather panties) +1 d4
Armour: Leather Armour, Ring of Protection +1 

Feats: Skill Focus (Use Magic Device), Armour Proficiency (Light), Improved Initiative, Scribe Scroll, Toughness. 

Skills of note: Alchemy +5 Appraise +3 Bluff +3 Concentrate +5 Craft (Model) +3 Decipher Script +7 Diplomacy +3 Disguise +3 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +5 Intimidate +3 Knowledge (Arcane) +7 Listen +4 Move Silently +3 Perform (Vogue) +3 Scry +5 Search +3 Spellcraft +7 Use magic Device +10

Spells: 	
Lvl 0 (3) All; 
Lvl 1 (2) Shield, Mage Armour, Mount, Unseen Servant, Detect Secret Doors, Detect Undead, Magic Missile.

Items of note: Scrolls Read Magic, Mage Hand (both Lvl 1 use) Shield, Bear’s Endurance, Monster Summoning II (Lvl 5 use); Wand of Magic Missile (Level 1- 5 Charges); Pearl of Power (lvl 1); Potion Cure Lt. x2, 2 Bags of Caltrops; 6 Tindertwigs.

“Swish” Animated Broom companion AC15 Mv30 Init+2 +1 Slam d4 Hardness 5 Fort +0 Ref +2 Will -5

Newt​
Gnome Male Rogue Level 1
NG HP 8 AC 18 Init +3
Str 11 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +2 Ref +5 Will +2
Heavy Mace +1 d6 
Light Crossbow (Masterwork) +5 d6 
Dagger (Silver Edged) +1 or +4 d3
Armour: Scabby old Chain Shirt

Feats: Nimble Fingers, Low Light Vision, +1 To Hit vs. Goblinoids and Kobolds, +4 Dodge vs. Giants, Point Blank Shot.

Skills of note: Alchemy +9 Appraise +5 Balance +5 Climb +4 Craft (Locksmith) +5 Decipher Script +5 Disable Device +9 Escape Artist +4 Forgery +3 Hide +9 Intimidate +3 Jump +4 Listen +6 Move Silently +7 Open Lock +9 Pick Pocket +4 Ride (Pony) +3 Scry +3 Search +7 Spot +5 Use Rope +3

Spells: Ghost Sound, Dancing Lights, Prestidigitation & Speak with Burrowing Animals.

Items of note: Silk Climbing Rope, 10 Tindertwigs, 2 Thunderstones, 2 Tanglefoot bags, 12 Sunrods, 2 Smoke Sticks, 4 Alchemist’s Fire, Thieves Tools (Masterwork), Potion Cure Lt x4.

And the new member of the team, replacing Mischa is…

Ala​
Elf Female Cleric Level 1 
NG HP 9 AC 18 Init +3
Str 14 Dex 17 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 17 Ch 13 
Saves Fort +3 Ref +3 Will +5
Longsword +4 d8+2
Long bow +3 d8
Dagger (Silver edged) +2 or +3 d4+2 
Armour: Chain Shirt & Light Steel Shield

Feats: Point Blank Shot, Weapon Focus (Longsword), Turn Undead (4/day).

Skills of note: Concentration +3 Diplomacy +3 Heal +5 Hide +3 Listen +5 Ride (Horse) +3 Sense Motive +3 Spot +5 Use Rope +3 Wilderness Lore +3

Spells: Lvl 0 (3) Lvl 1 (3)
Domains: War & Good.

Items of note: 2 Healer’s Kits, Scroll Protection from Elements

Next Turn: What about OUR Ogre?


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Well, having read "Lost Boys" I had to read this storyhour as well. Good stuff Goonalan - may be less madness, but it looks like being very interesting in its own right. I'm looking forward to more ...


----------



## Goonalan

The Lost Boys are all newbies, the Goodman Gang- this lot have more than a 100 years experience of RPG's collectively, they play the percentage game.

Also, while I put a few words in the mouths of The Lost Boys they tend to behave... well as portrayed. We've had singing, and bad singing at that; falling's out; rants; a sorcerer that constantly shouts the odds and wants to mix it with anyone and anything; a Priest and A Paladin who try to outdo each other; and luckily, a Rogue that, although the youngest member of the gang, happens on the answer, time and time again etc.

At times I'm not sure whether to continue with this story hour, there are some good bits coming up, the players get a little more into character, and develop a few edges but it's nowhere near as comic as The Lost Boys, then again, I guess that's not what it's about. 

It's also the case that DMing the two groups is a completely different experience, The Lost Boys gaming experience is pure chaos at times, particularly as none of the players seem to have a volume control- shouting and screaming is commonplace. In contrast The Goodman Gang often stop for a 'nice cup of coffee and a cake'.

So an encounter with a Beholder would go a little like this for the The Lost Boys-

"I poke it in it's big fat eye."
"Shoot it- see if it bursts."
"Is it a balloon?"
"How's it floating? Does it have wings?"
"Is it a balloon?"

Followed by a minute of the Paladin and Cleric shoving each others miniature off the board because they both want to charge at it- head on.

Obviously then they start rolling '20's

Whereas The Goodman Gang is more-

Shouting towards the fridge. "It's a Beholder... What? A Beholder... Doesn't matter, fetch me a bottle of water."
"Right then we need to head for the sides or the rear, or better still one of us should try to get on it or under it- remember to stay out of it's Anti-Magic cone..."
Followed by a verbatim reading from the MM, or more often this goes unsaid- they all just know everything there is to know about Beholders.
The guy at the fridge returns "What is it?"
All "A Beholder."
"Oh... Does anyone want anything to eat?"
"I bet you can't name all of the eye rays?"
"Are you mad- easy."

And on it goes, obviously I've applied the magnifying glass to the above situations but you get the gist.

I like that they know all this stuff, it saves me time, but some of the magic is gone. The good thing about them is that, like me, they're enamoured with low level adventures, love starting again- none of them are power gamers.

Anyway, thanks for the comment- much appreciated.

Cheers


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 13: What about OUR Ogre?

Three miles west of the village of Tetknee, through the forest again they come, nobody knows the way, except Cas perhaps, he has a map given to him by Ladrasar, the wise woman of the village.

They’d all met back up in the Frog & Parrot pub there; a lot didn’t get said, for ages, in fact all night. But then it all came together when the wise woman appeared, staggered over to the table that Cas was sitting at, with Ala, and shouted, while thumping the table hard enough to make their drinks dance-

“What about OUR Ogre?” 

A price agreed, glances met shrugs, shrugs met nods and here they are again, nearly- Mischa it seems is not cut out for the dungeon experience, and so we have Ala.

The story is less convoluted this time, Ogre in cave, normally quite sweet, well… except for the odd misdemeanour, suddenly gets uppity- starts smashing up trade caravans, farmers killed, livestock butchered or taken- can you fix it. Well… yes, we can… probably.

And so in a low dustbowl where no crops will grow, between two steep and stony scarps is a cave; and here it is.

“Newt, could you perhaps scout ahead, you all know the plan, anyway, just make it angry, make it come out here, we’ll do the rest. Shouldn’t prove too difficult for you, I mean…” Cas runs dry.

“I know what you mean. One Ogre- coming right up.” Newt winks, and scuttles into the dark.

Less than thirty seconds later.

“Waaaaaaahh…”

Newt comes running out, zig-zags once then sprints hard right, out of the line of fire, he’s giggling, he even manages to click his heals with a little jump- grandstanding.

FWUNG
THUNG
FWOOM
Etc.

Arrows, and associated missiles, fly- Ala buries an arrow into the Ogre’s shoulder, it jerks left, and into Bec who’s following up the artillery fire with his charge, the giant man crunches into the Ogre, immovable object meets… no, hang on, Bec crumples and falls. Cas dances forward, slices, and nearly takes the Ogre’s foot off, the creature screams, stumbles back. 

The Ogre swings its enormous club around, Cas ducks, and the Ogre lets go, the club hurtles off into the distance. Cas slices again ripping open the Ogre’s chest, a curtain of blood flows as Jim rushes by Cas and…

THUNK

Splits the creature’s chest open completely, the Ogre paws the air, and then topples over, no more.

“Well that wasn’t so bad. If you’d like to wake Bec up and tell him it’s over.” Cas cleans his sword. Jim smiles, and does as he’s told.

Ala and the others move up, they gather, staring at the Ogre.

“That’s not… usual.” Anya states the obvious.

The Ogre’s skin is jet black, his eyes a vile green, they seem to glow, even in death, rancid oozing pustules dot his face and body, he seems to have scratched them so hard that many of them have turned to scabrous cuts and sores.

“He doesn’t look… well.”

Newt kicks the corpse, “he wouldn’t, would he- he’s dead”, and then looks ahead, to the cave.

“Shall we see what he’s got, before we go collect our reward?”

The others nod, and with one last look apiece, head off into the dark.

A sunrod flares.

The cave is sparse, almost empty, not at all homely- something odd. They find two sacks stuffed with coin, and some rancid cheese. The coins sacks are too big to hide, so Newt steals the cheese, it’s in his nature.

There’s a dank dark dripping passage that winds further back.

Newt shrugs, motions with the sunrod, the others silently follow.

Into an enormous cavern.

“What the fu… fu… fu… fu… fu…”

It echoes in here, the ceiling is lost from sight.

FLAP-FLAP

“Something’s coming, flying, switch to missile.” Cas warns, just in time.

A group of long-nosed half-insect half-bird looking creatures swoop into the flare of the sunrod, Newt drops it, hefts his crossbow and-

FWUNG

Plucks one of the Striges out of the air- dead.

Jim gets off a shot but misses by a mile, and then the remaining three Stirges are on them.

One of the creature’s crunch-lands on Anya, squawks, and then plunges its proboscis into her shoulder, gargles blood as she tumbles backwards, falls, the Stirge swells and grows as it sucks down Anya’s blood.

The other two swoop and circle around Cas and Ala who stand side by side, swords drawn.

“Wait.” Cas readies himself, glances at Ala.

The Stirges dive down.

SLICE

Ala cuts through the creature’s wing, it bundles into the cavern floor, squawks a while, then dies, Cas misses as the other Stirge swoops by him. 

Newt quickly reloads, spins and fires, scoring a minor hit on the Stirge that sits on the fallen Anya, it takes to the air, it may have outstayed its welcome. Jim dashes in and crunches what’s left of the thing, it explodes spraying blood everywhere.

Ala and Cas turn to face the last Stirge, it banks and comes again.

“Wait.” Cas again readies himself- like some fencing master, glances again at Ala.

She nods, then dances ahead, and brings her longsword around in a deft arc, slicing the final creature in two.

Cas grins at Ala, shows her his sword.

“Look not a mark on it, and yet”, he looks around, “they’re all dead. You know what that’s about don’t you?”
“No, tell me Cas.”
“Leadership Ala.”

They grin, then remember there place and head over to help Anya, who turns out to be “ok, she’s lost some blood- it’s mainly the shock that made her feint, she’ll be alright in a minute”, Ala confirms after a brief examination.

As good as her word, Anya is up in a moment, a little dizzy, but still up for a little more exploration.

“Thank you Ala.”

She smiles at the Elven Cleric, Cas’ new friend.

“Hey, I’ve found something.”

Newt appears; another burning sunrod in his hand.

They head off to see what the Gnome has found.

Thirty seconds later.

“Up there.” Newt motions upwards.
The gathering stops to stare up into the inky darkness- there’s nothing to see.
“Where?” Anya manages.

“Stand back, it’s up there somewhere.”

The others do as their told.

Newt affixes a lit sunrod to a crossbow bolt using a little Gum Arabic with a special substance known only to locksmiths.

“Wait… and watch.”

FWUNG

The bolt leaps into the air, a firework, and…

THUNK

Jams into the rock, for a second, then falls.

A second is enough to see the opening high above, a constructed opening, man-made, or at least, humanoid, probably…

“How did you work out that was up there?” Cas stares.
The others stare at the Gnome in awe, new found respect for his eagle-eyes.
“Easy.”

Newt shifts his feet to reveal a tangle of thick rope.

“I found this rope, y’see the thing about gravity is, and stop me Princess if I’m getting this wrong…”

The Gnome winks at Anya, then grins at Cas, he loves being right, and right here.

“Good work. Now how do we get up?”
“Do we want too?” Ala asks, causing Cas to turn.
“Yes. We do, or at least, I do.”
“Why?”

Everybody waits for an answer, including Cas.

“That’s a good question. And I think the answer may be up there.”

He points up.

“Newt, how do we do this?”

FWUNG

This time the bolt and attached sunrod sails up and into the opening, catches on something hidden- and brings light to the proceedings.

“Right then, anyone any good with one of these?”

Newt holds a beautifully made rope ending in an equally well crafted grappling hook.

It takes a while, six minutes to be exact.

Newt scurries up the line, Cas holding it taught behind him, the grappling hook has obviously found a good purchase.

He’s up.

“All clear.”

He drags himself the last foot or so and gingerly stands, bathed in the light of his sunrod, he squints ahead, tries to see what the future holds.

FWUNG
FWUNG
THUNG

Crossbow bolts clatter and shatter on the rock behind him, including the one that has just taken the top of his left ear off.

“CAAAAAAAZ.”

He recognises the next sound, they’re reloading. 

Turn 14: They’re only…


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 14: They’re only…

“CAAAAAAZZZZZ, PLEASE- I’LL BE GOOD.”

Newt turns back, a new noise, they’re charging, hang-on, and reloading- damn there’s lots of them.

“CAAAAAAZZZZZ I PROMISE.”

Newt turns back, out of the glare, and the black beyond, a wave of javelins come, they all fall well short but still skitter on down the corridor at pace. Newt goes to dodge backwards, realises what’s behind him, and too late- is caught on the ankle by one of them.

“CAAA… OH you’re there.”

Lord Casimir pulls himself up, as three creatures charge into the light.

“Hold them.” Cas states.
“Feck.” Newt gulps, and leaps into the fight.

He sees the enemy at last.

“OH. They’re only… Kobolds?”

They’re Kobolds, of sorts, burlier, stockier- nastier. Their skin has rough red patches, rubbed raw, their teeth and claws are longer, somehow twisted- more feral looking. They’re wrapped in mail, armour that is- Scalemail, each has a shield and a military looking shortsword- heavy duty all round. There are three of them, and they mean business.

DMs interlude just for the record the Kobold Footmen have AC 19, yep you heard me right, the Kobold Artillery (with Crossbows) are AC 15, and the Elite Kobolds, when we get to them, are AC 18. None of them have more than 2 hit points, but you’ve got to hit them to kill them. They don’t dish out a lot of damage but they hang around, unlike your normal Kobolds. 

Back to the action.

Newt ducks, dodges, bends and blocks- not one of the shortswords hit him, he is however miles away from scoring a hit of his own.

He plays out the same manoeuvres, only in a different order; with the same results- all combatants remain unscathed.

“Cas, please.”
“A second.”

And then Cas is there. Bec’s arm flops up into the corridor, soon followed by the rest of him.

The Kobolds fall back slightly as Cas steps in, giving Newt an opportunity, he smashes his mace into the side of one of the creatures, it falls, goes down holding it’s ribs- gasps for a second and then closes its eyes for good.

FWANG

A crossbow bolt shoots through the gap left by the dying Kobold.

Cas looks aghast.

“Wha…”
“Oh yeah, there’s some more of them- a bit farther on, nice huh.”
“What is this place?”

Cas leans back, still keeping the Kobold at bay.

“GET UP HERE.”

And in that second the Kobold leaps prodigiously and slices, cutting Cas’ throat, a curtain of blood gushes down.

He staggers but stays on board, drops his shield and while clutching at his throat, fights on.

Bec’s giant hand grasps Newt’s shoulder and pulls him over and out of the way, the effect is immediate, his longspear skewers one of the creatures, dead. The last one runs.

“Leg it.”

The Kobold screams. Jim arrives.

“What’s?”

Bec grabs Jim, points ahead at the fleeing form, waves his spear.

“Sandwich?”

And runs after the Kobold. Jim shrugs, grins.

“See yah.”

And sprints off.

Another crossbow bolt pings against the ceiling and clatters off behind them.

Cas channels his healing powers into his ragged throat, the flesh is partially closed, he’s still weak- blood loss.

Anya, and then Ala, quickly scramble up, the latter strides over to Cas, her healing hands do their work, the three head off at a sprint to see where Bec and Jim have got to.

Newt has, in the meantime, taken a good look at the dead Kobolds, they’re both very odd looking, although he’s never seen a Kobold before- perhaps they all look this way. The two bodies do have something else in common, they’re wearing crude gold pendants on leather thongs, each of them a botched depiction of a three fingered hand. The only word that really registers however is ‘gold’- Newt has them both.

Bec stops, he’s entered a huge cavern, lit by a myriad glowing fungi, there’s a river in here somewhere he can hear the water, he spots his pray, sprints off.

He soon catches up with the Kobold Footman, who spins round to meet the foe, the two face off, it’s David vs. Goliath, and you know how that one turned out. Bec swings and pokes, the Kobold dances out of the way, manages a snarl, or two- they’re vicious, you’ll have to give them that.

Jim sprints on, figuring that Bec can take care of himself.

He’s approaching a river, actually more of a stream, although the current’s running at quite a lick. What’s going on, he takes a look around.

SNICK

Bec meantime gets his Kobold, spearing the creature through its chest.

He rushes forward to Jim as the others troop into the cavern.

“There.”

Jim spots them, points, the remaining two Kobolds are down the bank of the stream, using slick looking stepping stones, sawn-off stalagmites actually, to get across the stream.

“Save meeeeeee.”

As he watches one of the Kobolds slips, and splashes, into the stream, he soon disappears from sight, the river plunges into a dark cavern.

The other makes the far bank, screaming.

“Intruders. Intruders. Bloody help me.”

The Kobold is just about to make it to freedom when Anya strikes a glorious pose, think gangsta rapper with gun, only substitute the beautifully coiffured Anya- with Magic Missile Wand.

“Smidgin”, delivered in breathy-whisper.

The missile hits, the Kobold staggers and collapses- dead.

Newt meanwhile is adding to his new collection, he grabs another pendent-thingy from the Kobold Bec killed.

The group convene momentarily; take a quick look around the huge cavern.

“So what’s going on here?” Cas asks.
Ala shrugs, “What do you think?”
“I don’t know but you saw that Ogre, and the Kobolds… they’re, twisted… somehow.”
“I guess that means we should take a look.”
“I’m game”, Newt adds and then has an attack of conscience, he mentally adds that to his tally so far in life, the total is now at one, “I found some... er, one of these… this.”
He holds out a pendent for the others to inspect.
“It’s an odd looking device- I’ve no idea of its meaning, I must say I’m intrigued too.” Anya states.
Jim nods.
“Can I have sandwich?”
“Then it’s decided, we’ll head on for a while, see where it takes us.” Cas states.
“I’ll keep the pendent then, for safety reasons”, Newt confirms, and grins.

Cas leads them down to the river, hops onto the first of the stepping stones, and seconds later is across- easy. Jim follows, it’s all going well, when the ceiling moves.

“Jim.”

Anya screams, the Rock Centipede is hard to spot, but not now it’s moving, it hangs onto a stalactite above and reaches down to grab for Jim, he dodges aside at the last moment. The creature is a good six feet long, the colour of stone, and yet, on it’s sides, on the individual segments, there seems to be a glowing, at least now the creature is moving, representation of the three-fingered hand.

“Intruders. Get the vile interlopers.”

Cas looks behind him, up the bank, coming out of a tunnel is another Kobold, a solitary individual, he darts over. The two meet, swords clash, there’s something really odd here- Cas thinks, every story he’s been told was about Kobolds running off to get their friends, only attacking when the odds were heavily stacked in their favour? And armoured…

The Kobold holds Cas off, he hates to say it, but- easily.

Jim dives the last few feet across the stream and rushes up the slope to help Cas.

Ala’s bow sings.

CRUNCH

The arrow shatters the side of the Rock Centipede’s skull; it unpeels from the stalagmite and splashes into the river only to be carried off. 

Bec meantime has found a short cut; he wades through the stream avoiding the stepping stones entirely. He’s halfway across when the second Rock Centipede makes its appearance, it snaps its jaws inches from Bec’s face, he calmly steps back and stabs his longspear through the creature, wrenches it down and flings it into the water.

The Kobold before Jim and Cas is having troubles, it’s still screaming.

“Tell the Master- Intruders.”

The Kobold stumbles; Jim stabs the thing through its cold heart.

Behind them Ala jumps at the first stepping stone, hits it hard, slips and slides over the edge, she grabs on.

Cas looks back. She smiles- she’s ok, begins to pull herself up.

“CAS.”

Jim shouts, four more Kobolds appear from the same tunnel, two instantly drop to one knee, ready light crossbows to fire, the two others make ready, all are heavily armoured.

Cas, Bec and Jim charge towards them. The Kobolds fire.

FWUNG
CRUNCH

The first bolt misses, the second crossbow suffers some technical aberration, shatters, sending the bolt back and up, through the firer’s face, one down.

The two Kobold Footmen see their opportunity and rush in.

Cas meets the first, he’s still charging, he swings- connects and cuts the creature clean in two.

Bec settles for impaling his.

That leaves one, now heavily outnumbered; he drops his crossbow and flees.

Jim, Bec and Cas charge on into the tunnel- Jim’s sunrod lighting the way ahead.

Back at the stepping stones, Ala slips again, tumbles, banging her head as she goes down, she grabs on for dear life- screams.

“Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas.”

But he’s gone.

“I’ll help you.”

Anya wades into the stream, and in an instant gets stuck herself, the current’s too strong for her, she scrabbles to stay upright.

Newt dives down the bank, he’s not really built for this, he weighs much less than half of either of these ladies, and although he hates to admit it, strength is not his thing- and he hates water.

Then he stops- there’s something on the other side.

“Feck”, he points, shouts over the sound of the river, “there’s another cavern- KOBOLDS.”

To emphasise his point a crossbow bolt smashes into the stepping stone that Ala is desperately clinging onto. 

Turn 15: Two Way Split


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Goonalan said:
			
		

> At times I'm not sure whether to continue with this story hour, there are some good bits coming up, the players get a little more into character, and develop a few edges but it's nowhere near as comic as The Lost Boys, then again, I guess that's not what it's about.




Well comedy certainly isn't my only reason for reading a storyhour - so I hope you keep it going.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 15: Two way split

The trio of pursuers; Jim, Bec & Cas, head down the tunnel following the fleeing Kobold, he flashes in and out of sight, Bec is having trouble keeping track of the creature, Jim has the light and he’s not keeping up.

The Kobold heads towards a larger cavern, thank Pelor, it’s lit, there’s a brazier burning in there, a guard room, without the guards.

The Kobold zags behind a stone pillar, Bec runs around it, the Kobold comes back round the other side- towards Jim, dodges left and up another sloped passage, and away from his pursuers again.

Meanwhile…

“Help me.”

Ala screams clutching onto the rock, Anya has no way to get to her, she dives forward, onto the bank, and scrambles up the side and out of the stream.

She crawls up the slope, spots the Kobold that Newt had seen earlier, the creature grins, steps aside, four huge Dire Rats spring from the cavern, head towards her.

“RAAAAAAATTTS.”

Newt screams and fires.

Thwung

Wings one of the creatures, only slows it down a little.

Anya drags herself to her feet, reaches behind and looses “Swish”, the broom sweeps forward as Anya steps back.

Meanwhile…

The Kobold dashes up the slope towards a lit chamber, screaming-

“Slazzik, save me- intruders.” 

Bec, Jim and Cas exchange glances, they’re running up a slope after the Kobold still, shadows appear at the top- more Kobolds, they seem to be grappling with something.

CRUNCH-WIBBLE-WIBBLE-WBBLE-WBLE-RUMBLEEEEE.

A huge stone comes rolling down the slope, a huge stone bowling ball, and they’re the pins.

Meanwhile…

Two rats snap at Swish, the broom holds them off, the other two snake past the broom and are on Anya- she smashes one of them with her staff- dead.

FWUNG

A crossbow bolt thumps into the side of the other rat, its dead. Anya looks left, Newt winks at her, she smiles, the odds are getting better. 

Ala lets go of the rock stepping stone, kicks her legs, swims- thrashes the water, she drifts hard right, and to the shore, she drags herself out.

Fwunk

A crossbow bolt passes over Anya’s shoulder and, she’s back in the room.

Meanwhile…

RUMBLE-CRUNCH.

The boulder takes out the Kobold ahead.

RUMBLE

The boulder rushes on, hits Jim- a glancing blow, he staggers and falls on to the hard cavern floor.

Bec and Cas rush into the room ahead, and into a gaggle of Kobolds, four of them- heavily armed and armoured, as usual- nasty looking, same as the others.

There are another two Kobolds over the far end of the chamber, one guarding the other, the other being a scabrous looking individual, short even by Kobold standards, wearing a tatty yellow robe. The chamber itself is dirty and smelly- five stinky beds and at the far side a crude stone desk, old moth-eaten and filthy tapestries on the walls, a huge black candle burns brightly on the desk.

The Kobold wizard, Slazzik, has something in his hand- it’s a wand.

“Wiiiizard.”

Cas screams.

“Smidgin.”

A bolt of force dances and swoops around the room, and slams into Cas, knocking him back a few feet.

Cas reaches down and stabs a Kobold through the chest, Bec meanwhile fares less well, he over-extends himself and is cut twice, one of them a deep blow to his thigh, the giant man staggers, but doesn’t go down.

“Smidgin.”

Another bolt of force slams into Cas, he staggers back again. Jim gets into the room, a Kobold dashes forward to meet him, catches him on the shin- hard, Jim shoots an arm out to the cavern wall steadies himself, he’s bleeding badly, the Kobold snarls. This isn’t going too well.

Cas swings again and decapitates one of the Kobold guards. Bec’s back on form- stabs one through his armour- dead, lashes the end of his longspear round and smacks the second in the face, the Kobold’s head jolts back, neck snaps. 

“Smidgin.”

A third Magic Missile slams into Cas’ chest, he wavers but stays on his feet.

Jim and his Kobold tormentor exchange blows, no damage done.

Cas and Bec rush on, charge towards the Wizard and his guard.

Jim slices into the Kobold, it slumps to the floor dead. He rushes forward towards the Wizard and co.

Flames leap from the Wizard Kobold’s outstretched hands- engulf all three of the adventurers, and his guard, which expires in flame.

Cas hits the deck, crisped a little around the ages.

Jim dodges back, avoids the majority of the flame. Bec just rushes through it, smoking, still burning in places, he emerges- stabs at the Kobold Wizard, Slazzik dodges aside, he misses.

Slazzik’s desperate, he stumbles over Draconic phrases, another spell, Bec stabs again, Slazzik dodges again, he misses but the spell is disrupted.

Jim drags himself up and rushes forward.

Slazzik dodges another crude blow from Bec, and this time conjures up a spell, another Burning Hands, the flames engulf Jim and Bec; Jim is crisped, falls. 

Just Bec left standing.

Slazzik stumbles backwards to the cavern wall, attempts the same spell again, Bec charges, disrupts the Wizard’s spell as he rams his spear through the Kobold’s chest, the Wizard sinks, gasps- and dies.

Bec breathes hard then trudges over to Cas, pours a Potion of Healing down the Paladin’s throat, then another down Jim’s- thirty seconds later they’re back up. Jim gulps down his goodberry, he’s been carrying it a while, who knows if it does any good.

Cas grabs the Wizard’s wand.

Meanwhile…

Two Dire Rats snap at Swish, the Magic Broom, Ala drags herself out of the stream and up the bank.

A bunch of Kobolds spill out of the cavern, another guard room, three more Kobold Footmen, and two with crossbows, as usual, armed to the teeth.

“KOBOLDS.”

Newt screams. 

FWUNG

His crossbow sings- one of the Kobold Artillery sinks to the floor- dead.

“Smidgin.”

Anya vogues with her wand.

One of the other charging Kobolds crashes to the floor- dead.

Ala draws her sword, ready for the two Kobold Footmen approaching.

Fwung

Another crossbow whistles by Anya.

Swish scratches one of the rats attacking it.

FWUNG

The second Kobold Shooter hits the deck; Newt’s getting good at this.

“Smidgin.”

And another Kobold Footman hits the deck.

Ala and the remaining Kobold Footman slug it out, to no effect.

One of the rats has hold of Swish, dragging the broom left and right, when it lets go Swish is still unharmed, the broom flicks over and ‘clonks’ the rat on it’s skull- dead.

FWUNG

Newt’s crossbow takes out the last rat.

Anya parries the Kobold’s blow then brings the pommel of her sword up swiftly, caves the creatures head in.

Newt leaps from stepping stone to stepping stone, traverses the stream, easily.

And then the other members of the adventuring group reappear.

“Where the hell have you been?” Ala’s angry.
“I…” Cas starts up.
“Of you go, rushing ahead, I was in the river.”
“You nodded, smiled at me, I thought you were OK.” Cas looks guilty, then spots the bodies, Kobolds and Dire Rats.
“What happened here?”
“They did.”

Ala and Cas stare at each other for a while, in the background Newt is scooting round stealing as many of the pendants as he can.

The pair break up, Ala sets to healing the others, they’re not speaking to each other.

Five minutes later the adventurers move out.

“So where are we? What is this place?” Anya asks.

Newt shrugs, nobody has an answer.

They enter the second cavern.

Newt shuffles ahead, puts his hand up, wait. He points up.

“Trap… Look...”

The Gnome creeps in, following a rope down to a tripwire, he cuts it- the net ahead falls, netting nothing.

They move forward, and in, through a guard room and into a rats den, there’s nothing to find.

And in silence they wander back to the stream.

“Look will you two just sort it out?” Newt’s tired of the looks and long silences; he stares at Ala and Cas.

The pair wander off a way.

“I thought you were ok?” Cas begins.
“I was… I am, it’s just you can’t keep running off all the time.”
“I…”
“No listen Cas- I don’t know what you want, and the problem is neither do you… you need to take better care of yourself, of your friends, of me. If you’re going to be a leader, then lead, don’t follow- that was stupid splitting the group up, you could have got us all killed.”
“I know, I…”
“No you don’t know. You need to know. You scare me, I never thought it would be easy… being with you, but you’ve got to understand, you need to look out for all these people- they depend on you. I depend on you. I…”
Ala grabs Cas’ arm.
“Just take it easy from now on.”
Cas goes to reach for her, but she’s gone.

They head off to the Wizard’s chamber, Cas catches up with Anya, gives her the wand he found, “the command word is ‘Smidgin’, use it wisely”, Anya grins at Cas.

“Anything I can help you with back there.”
Cas thinks about it, Anya’s look lingers on the forlorn Paladin.
“Nothing I can’t handle, now let’s stay sharp.”

The chamber is as before, except for a steady pulse from the Wizard’s robe, about where the heart is.

“He’s still alive.” Jim states.
“Nope”, Newt stamps on the Wizard’s heart, a squidgy sound, then rips the creatures robes open, a dead toad inside, “his familiar.”

“Let’s see what else he’s got.”

A full search follows and everything that looks to be of worth is placed on the desk, the Wizard has all the good stuff- a glowing Pearl and a set of Bracers. Anya takes the Pearl, “I think it’s some sort of magical focus… for Wizards.” She stares at Ala. The Bracers go to Bec, because he likes them, or at least he takes them and straps them on- they expand to fit his tree-trunk arms, nobody argues.

The black candle they saw earlier sits in a golden candle-holder, they take that, and a dark tome, that no-one, not even Anya can read, she’ll have to try her magic on it later.

They head off again- another empty guard room and then on, they’re at a docks area, or at least there are several rafts pulled up at an underground pool, they follow the flow, there’s a dark cavern ahead, the stream heads that way.

“We’ll rest here. I think that’s enough for a while.”

Nobody complains so they find a safe place and build a fire, eat something, feel human again.

Next Turn: She’s my one and only…

And thus endeth the first session of play in this scenario, which is only the third session of actual play in total for these hardy folk.


----------



## Richard Rawen

Nicely done, enjoying the feel of it. The character development post was appreciated, looks like you have a flare for writing, and not just one style.
Thanks for taking the time to share it all with us.


----------



## Goonalan

Thanks for that Richard, much appreciated.

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 16: She’s my one and only…

We’re back at the camp, the fishing expedition.

“And I think we should go back.” Cas states.
Ala grabs his arm- tender.
“What the feck for?” Newt spits.
“Food.”
Newt stops speaking. Ala lets go of Cas’ arm, he looks back, she looks away.
“We need to get some food, I mean who knows what’s down that river, or how far it goes- we may be in here a while.”
“Good idea.” Newt grins.
“Why ARE we here?” Ala asks.
“Because THERE’S something wrong here, you saw the Kobolds.”
“So they’ve got something wrong with them, a disease, it could be a disease.”
Jim itches.
“Ala, please. We should do this right, you said so yourself. There’s something down here- something bad, I can feel it.”
“Me.”
Everyone turns to look at Bec, he struggles for the next word.
“Too.”

Cas looks back at Ala, she sighs and turns away.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Newt is off. “We should check out that big cavern, where we came in, I could have sworn I saw another exit from it, don’t want to leave enemies behind us Cas- you said that, last time.”
Cas sighs, “I remember.”

The group gather up their gear and head back, the stream is easily forded this time- they have time and patience on their side. Same too with the grappling hook and the rope down, although they leave it in place, and well secured.

They’re back in the first large cavern, right at the entrance- the Ogre’s cave; the bodies of the Stirges are still there.

“Look, I told you.” Newt’s spotted another cavern passage already, he heads of.
“Wait”, Cas calls but the Gnome is gone.
Ala rushes past him, after Newt, a glance says it all.

And into another chamber, Newt is pressed hard against the wall fiddling with his crossbow, “there”, he whispers, and points- a pair of bobbing glowing lights approach, at speed, there are other pairs of lights within the cavern.

“Fire beetles.” Newt hisses, and giggles.

THWUNG

Newt’s crossbow bolt buries itself into the creatures carapace, only slows it, a little.
“Ca…” Ala begins, but he’s already there, all of them are.

They fan out to meet the approaching beetles, all three of them.

The Fire Beetles, seemingly enraged, tumble forward into the light, their carapaces glow, tiny human skulls, like a ladybug’s but much creepier.

“What are these things?” Jim asks.

FWOOM

Jim’s magic arrow slices through one of the creatures, it spurts and oozes as it thrashes dead, the stink is appalling. Bec, caught in the blast of the stench, twists away and stumbles over. Ala leaps in and ends another of the beasts. Anya, watches her, and then rushes in with her staff, she connects, but only serves to further enrage the clambering beetle, it snaps and bites at her, she dodges back, leaving a perfect gap.

FWUNK

For another crossbow bolt from Newt, the last beetle stumbles and sinks, they’re all gone, and the smell.

“Pelor save me, is that you Jim?” Cas grins.
The others chuckle, Jim reddens, even Ala smiles.
“Can I have sandwich?” Bec’s up.
“Come on big guy.” Cas pats him on the back.

“There’s another tunnel- straight over.” Newt goes to make for it. Cas reaches out and grabs him.
“OK Newt, this time by the numbers.”
The Gnome grins, dances a little ahead, looks back to make sure it’s not too far.

They head into the next passage, and into another chamber, and into some more Fire Beetles, with equally strange decals.

Newt and Jim are first in, they fire.

FWUMP
THONG

And two of the three beetles are dead, the artillery moves out of the way as Bec jogs forward, longspear at the ready, and skewers the last of the beetles.

“Bee-kul.” He states, then the stink gets to him again and he tosses the dead thing away.

They check the chamber out thoroughly, there’s nowhere to go and nothing in it.

Back to the main chamber and...

“There’s another passage.” Newt dashes over.
“Wait.”
And does so, “same again people, we’re in the groove. Ala?”
“Yes Cas.”
“Watch my back.”
She grins, “yes Cas, whatever you say.”
Anya sneers, silently, and unseen.

They’re through the passage and into another large cavern, nothing of interest, at first.

Then…

<	>

No noise, just a blanket of darkness that settles over Bec and Ala, one second they’re there, the next they’re gone from sight.

Becs pauses, then feels something, something rubbery on his shoulder- he seizes whatever it is, just as several other rubbery something’s- tentacles by the feel of them, grab for him. He rips the thing off of him, before it can get a grip, and then Ala’s light spell flares and he’s holding some kind of flying octopus in his hands. 

“SQWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.”

The Darkmantle is not so enamoured with the light, it pulses, rips itself free from the Barbarian’s hands, and jets upwards.

THONG

Jim’s magic arrow slices through it, it flutters and pulses- struggles to remain afloat.

“Smidgin.”

The Magic Missile finishes the job.

“Good work Anya, Newt.”
The pair smile at Cas.

There’s another cavern ahead, when they get close they realise it’s not all that grand, a low chamber lies beyond, the ceiling only two to three feet high.

“We’ll leave it.” Cas is about to turn around.
“Hang on, there might be something in there.”
“Newt?”
“Please Cas, let me take a look.”
Cas looks at Ala, she looks away.
“Be quick then.”

And the Gnome is gone.

“Jim, watch his back.” The Ranger shuffles in crouches to see as Newt and his sunrod crawl inside.

For his part Newt does the best he can to put his body between the chest he spotted earlier, and Jim’s watching brief.

He scrambles in the dirt to the chest, a cursory check- no traps, he unlocks it, and it’s as easy as that. Knocks it over- towards him, there’s no room to see into the chest from above. The contents spill out- mostly money but there’s some other stuff, including- strange, four wooden dolls which are…

Getting up.

He looks on horrified as the four petticoat wearing milking-maids totter towards him, grab at his ankle, his hand, his shirt, his hair- scratching, biting, gouging- he screams.

“I’M SORRRRRRRRREEEEEE.”

Jim drops his bow and crawls in, Cas follows, and in seconds they’re on the scene.

The four dolls have still got a hold of the thrashing Gnome, who’s bleeding from over a half-a-dozen nicks and cuts.

Cas grabs out, catches hold of one of the dolls and repeatedly smashes it onto the stone cavern floor until it’s splintered wood in his hands. Jim struggles to grab one, so swivels around and kicks a doll, sending it hurtling off into the dark.

“Get them off me, get them off me.” Newt screams.

The other two dolls continue to claw and scratch at the Gnome, he takes some more damage, until Jim swats one, and Cas the other.

“Go.” Cas barks.

Newt furiously scrambles back out.

Jim and Cas spot the open chest, scoop the money back in until-

“Cas.”
“Yep.”
“It’s coming back- behind you.”
Cas looks beyond Jim.
“You too.”

They shuffle round to meet their adversaries again- there’s one heading for Jim, two for Cas.

Outside Newt shivers, “living dolls, living dolls, I hate…”

Cas scrabbles at the creatures, eventually grabs hold of one, he’s clawed and scratched several times in the process, and smashes the thing as hard as he can into the low ceiling- till it’s splinters. He manages to kick the other away.

Jim sees another way out. Waits for the doll to approach and then launches himself at it, kicking it as hard as he can.

“INCOMING.”

The doll shoots out of the chamber, Bec traps it with his foot, Newt picks himself up and runs away, Bec stamps on the thing until it’s gone.

“Kick it out… out to the others.” Jim manages.

The last doll wends its way back towards Cas, he tries Jim’s trick, with equal success, the wooden effigy comes shooting out, Bec goes to stamp on it but it’s not moving, it seems to have lost its head en route.

The pair drag the chest out, as Ala deals out the last of her healing.

The chest contains lots of gold, half-a-dozen small rubies, three scrolls, which Anya examines, and two coils of rope complete with grappling hooks.

A little later they choose straws and, as it turns out, Bec and Anya head off back to Tetknee to recap their adventures so far, grab more food and supplies for a longer campaign.

The others head back to the river, to rest for the remainder of the day and night, await the re-supply mission.

During the rest the four do there level best to ready themselves for the trials ahead, equipment repaired, cleaned, polished- made good again; backpacks re-ordered- everything needed within reach.

Cas takes the opportunity to talk again with Ala.
“I known there’s something bad here Ala, something terrible.”
“I can feel it too- I don’t like the place, there’s something wrong here.”
“Then we’re agreed, we need to go on- to find what’s causing these aberrations, put an end to whatever it is?”
“Yes. Of course, it’s just… I don’t trust some of the others.” Ala states.
Cas looks hard round at her.
“Who don’t you trust, I mean… Who?”
“It’s not for me to say- I can’t, I don’t know, I’m just worried that something bad is going to happen, and I can’t see where it’s going to come from, in front or behind.”
Cas snakes an arm around her, pulls her too him.

By the water’s edge Jim and Newt are refilling their flasks, Newt looks over to Cas and Ala.
“I wonder how they met?” Newt asks.
Jim shrungs, “dunno, she’s nice though”, he grins a little.
Newt spins round, “I’m not so sure… She’s always worried… Something’s always going to happen- dangers ahead, don’t do this, don’t do that… and the looks I get. We’re here to explore… Not…”, he trails off.
Jim stares at the Gnome, and then beyond to Ala.
“She’s alright.” The Ranger rests his hand on Newt’s shoulder, the turns and heads off- canteen full.
Leaving Newt staring hard at the holy pair.

Ala, at that moment, turns to meet his eye.

Next Turn: Incey-Wincey.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 17: Incey-Wincey.

Out in the sunlight, on the way back to Tetknee, Bec dawdles and wanders, glad again to be back in the light, away from the closed spaces of the dungeon.

Anya reaches back to cradle the giant man’s arm- hurry him along.

Bec thinks-

WarmarmsuuuuunlightlightlightsunlightwarmsuANYATOUCHmmmmwarmanyawarmsunlightwarmanyaANYAANYAANYAwarmmmmmmmHOT.

Bec reaches out to grab at the Wizard’s robe, her nape- the back of her neck- touches, Anya shrugs his hand away.

“Come on, my bloody feet are killing me, lets get this done before I make you carry me.”

Bec thinks-

Anyaanyanicesandwich.

Seven hours later Bec and Anya are back at the river, and loaded with goodies, they’ve managed to scrounge together twenty days supply of trail rations, claim the parties initial reward, Anya thought to take the Ogre’s skull back to confirm their victory, and several more healing potions, after some quick talking and gold to the wise woman. They’ve also managed to secure a few more party favourites, particularly another two dozen sunrods.

There’s a good feeling at the camp, the adventurers are already rested, and itching to see what lies ahead. Cas however is all business, they’ll stay the night here, wait until Ala and Anya have their spells back before they head out.

A watch rota is drawn up.

The night passes. 

But not without incident.

It’s late, it’s Newt’s guard shift, and yet here he is, sitting hidden in the shadows, stripes of fire flicker across his face, he’s two feet away from a sleeping Ala.

Not a sound. Not the lap of water. Not the lick of fire. Not the sound of his own breathing. Newt crouches in the dark place, inside his brain, twisting the dagger in his hand- watching her.

And then, slowly. Very slowly.

The sounds return. The lap of water. The lick of fire. The sound of his breath. The sound of Ala’s breathe.

Newt stands and creeps over to the fire, puts his dagger away en route, sits and sips coffee- watches over his sleeping companions.

All is quiet.

Anya doesn’t move, lies still on her side, in the dark- watching Newt.

Early morning of the second day sees the group divided between the two rafts- Ala, Lord Cas & Bec, on the first- Jim, Newt & Anya on the second. 

They paddle off into the huge cavern, following the steady flow of the stream. The light of their sunrods bouncing off the huge glistening caverns walls.

“Spider.” Newt yells, and for good measure, points.

They follow his finger, and sure enough high above them sits a enormous spider, it’s body must be eight to ten feet long, it’s nestled on a huge web, which the onlookers follow down- it blocks the way forward, the rafts are about to bump into it.

Cas back-paddles furiously, makes good-water, out of the flow of the stream. Ala fires, unsteady, the arrow flies wide. 

“Bec, paddle.”

The lug of a man sets too, as Cas stands up and grabs for his bow.

The other raft spirals towards the web, a little out of control, all three of its passengers take aim, there’s nobody rowing, or steering, for that matter. Jim’s arrow catches the creature square on, ripping into its flesh; Anya manages to launch a sling stone into the creature, although with little effect, only Newt misses.

The spider’s had enough of this, there’s nowhere else for it to go, it scuttles down its web towards the waters edge.

FLiiiirt

A sticky strand shoots from the spinnerets of the beast, snags Cas, hauls him in- the Paladin is lifted into the air, Ala grabs at him but fails to connect, Cas swings madly as he’s reeled in, and up, and into the webs- stuck fast.
Bec back-paddles furiously.
“No, forward.” Ala screams.

Jim grabs an oar and in the last instant tries to keep the other raft off the webs, Anya dives down and does the same, the two thrash at the water.

FWUNG

Newt’s crossbow sings and the spider takes another hit.

Bec drops his oar, staggers to his feet, rocking the raft, which closes in on the web, he rushes to the edge and leaps for Cas.

SPLOOOSH

And finds only the water, he surfaces and slowly drifts into the web.

Ala rocks back and forth, keeps her balance- just, then-

THWONG

Slams another arrow into one of the spiders legs, its heading down now- towards Cas.

Anya leaves off the rowing, the raft half-turns and reverses into the web, she steadies herself, points her wand, “Smidgin”, the magic bolt rocks the spider but it continues on its course. Newt fires hurriedly, falls on his back in the same instant, misses by a country mile his crossbow bolt slams into the cavern ceiling looses dirt and rock that cascade down, along with his bolt, back onto the boat and its inhabitants- he takes a thump to the skull.

And then the spider is on Cas, it rears up- revealing its dripping fangs, and then plunges them into him, he feels the poison pulse, burning him inside, his strength fading, he gasps…

“Ala…”

Bec flounders in the water, trying to climb up to Cas, he can’t, he’s stuck in the web. Ala lies down on the floor of the raft as it finally drifts into the lower reaches of the web, bobs and stays there- captured. She fires, the arrow slices into the spiders abdomen, dripping filthy yellow ichor.

Newt fires again.

THwong

And buries six inches of steel in the creature, the spider goes limp, looks to fall for a second but is caught in its own web. Only then can they finally make out the shape of the three-fingered hand etched on its abdomen.

The operation to remove Cas takes quite a while, eventually the pale-faced Paladin is dragged down, holding his side, the puncture wounds. Ala does the best she can to heal him, the rafts still caught in the lower reaches of the web, safe there for the moment. 

With his wounds cleaned and closed the poison still runs its course, in less than a minute the Paladin is doubled over clutching at his stomach, convulsing, sweating- a mess.

“We need to find somewhere for him to rest. We need to get him to land.”
Ala’s not even trying to hide the desperation in her voice.

It’s at that point that the web finally gives way and the rafts drift on- deeper into the cavern.

Bec and Jim paddle furiously but it’s of little use, they’re in the current.

Ala grasps Cas’ hand, he opens his eyes for a second, smiles at her, then heads back to the pain and the dark place, where the poison burns, within him.

The rafts drift out of the cavern into another larger chamber.

“Right.” Anya whispers, “There’s land”, they paddle with the flow and soon scrape the rafts up against a stony shore.

The rafts are dragged out of the water and Newt is sent forward, sunrod in hand, to check the place out, he returns in thirty seconds, there’s a hole, a tunnel, it’s only small but I think it goes into a larger cavern.

“We need to find cover Newt.” Anya states the obvious.
“I know, there’s nothing else.”
Ala nods.
“This way.” Newt heads off.
“Jim, drag the rafts out of the stream.” Anya adds.
Jim nods and sets to work.

The others arrive at an opening, a low tunnel in the rock, all that’s left of a much larger passage, possibly a cave in some time ago.

“It doesn’t look safe.” Ala worries.
“Nothing looks safe. Besides, it’s my ass.” Newt grins.
“Here grab this.” Newt ties a rope around his waist, passes the end to Bec, “if I holler, pull me out.”
“Sandwich?”
“Sure you can”, Newt pats Bec’s arm and scrambles up and through the gap.

“Ala. Ala. Ala.” Cas intones, she rushes to his side.
“I can’t see anything Ala.” He cries.
“It’s cold.” Cas continues, she wraps her cloak around him.

“FECK.” It’s Newt, he comes shooting back out of the tunnel, Bec the cause, he’s banged and bruised, he lies panting on the floor.

“Undead. Ghoul. I think… in there.” He points.

At that point the Ghoul pops his head out of the passage, which turns out to be the last thing he does- Jim’s magic arrow smashes its head like an over-ripe pumpkin. The creature’s body is soon dragged out of the way.

“See ya.” Newt climbs up and back in; he’s a sucker for punishment.
“Wait.” Ala orders, he stops, she strides over and weaves her magic, “this should protect you a little, from anything evil you may encounter.”
“Ta.” Newt nods and is off again. 
“Brave.” Anya mouths.
“Or a fool.” Ala completes.
Bec nods, at both comments.

Thirty seconds later the Gnome’s voice echoes from down the tunnel.

“All clear.”

One by one they head through, and into a graveyard- of sorts. The chamber is dotted with open graves, each about six feet deep, at the bottom of each a skeleton.

“Newt.” Ala’s not pleased.
“Where else is there?”

The group fans out, Ala holding Cas up, they creep around the open graves, to the left and to the right- Bec stops and turns, he’s heard something, a door in the wall opens to his right and a vicious looking feral creature, all flaking grey skin and jutting bones, stands for a second silhouetted in the light.

It launches itself at him, the pair tumble into one of the open graves, Bec is dragged down, the creature has remarkable strength, he’s bitten on his shoulder and clawed across the chest. He can feel his limbs stiffen, then his mind empties- or rather… is empty, and he’s up and fighting back.

The creature exudes a nauseous miasma, the air thickens, Cas gags and collapses, Newt and Anya back away as far as they can choking from the stink.

Bec leans way back and then forward at great speed, smashes his head into the creatures face, caving in most of the right side, the Ghast flails and falls against the opposite side of the grave.

Fwang

Newts crossbow bolt digs into the dirt. Ala fumbles for her holy symbol, mutters prayers, but the creature snarls and gets back up. Jim launches himself into the pit, there’s a brief struggle and he’s thrown aside.  

Ala tries to turn the Ghast again- fails badly. Bec head butts the creature for a second time, it rocks back- stunned for a second. Jim jumps in with his dagger in hand- only gouges a hollow in the dirt. The Ghast is getting back up.

 “Smidgin.” The Magic Missile crashes into it, sitting it back down.

GGGGrrrind.

Another door opens, at the far side of the chamber, unseen as of yet, and rushing into the light come a trio of armoured Skeletons.

“Bugger.” Newt voices everyone’s feelings.

Anya is caught from behind, scratched along her back. Cas, desperate, levers himself to his feet, wafts his sword and slumps down again- exhausted. Ala tries again with her prayers, brandishing her holy symbol, again to no affect, there’s something about this place, it feels unholy.

Anya and Newt attack the skeletons with staff and mace respectively, to no effect.

Bec and Jim however double team the Ghast, both plunge daggers into the creature- it writhes a moment then ceases its struggle.

Anya looses Swish, the broom hops forward to attack the Skeleton but is knocked away with ease, it tumbles into another open grave. The skeleton lurches towards Anya, swipes and connects, she’s scratched across her neck, she backs off instinctively, narrowly misses following Swish into the open grave.

“ALMIGHTY CORELLON…”

Ala finishes her fourth prayer, this time the skeletons glow softly- stiffen, then shuffle back the way they came. 

Newt, Bec and Jim leap after the creatures, smashing as they go- they’re soon splinters, shards of bone.

Cas coughs, blood, then fades away. Ala is at his side.

The Paladin is made comfortable, or as best they can. 

Bec and Jim head off into the Ghasts chamber, their light casts a feeble glow, the rock walls are a deep blood red, they quickly discover a hidden area. Bec rolls away a great boulder and behind, in the space, is a hidden cache, a large sack full of lumps of agate, maybe two dozen of them, and a beautifully crafted longsword, made of some dark metal, in a battered leather scabbard.

“Cas?” Jim offers.
Bec nods, the pair take the sword back to the sick Paladin, and show the others their find.

Newt and Anya discover a whole selection of swords and shields in the chamber the skeletons emerged from, several of the items of excellent quality, probably Masterwork.

Ala Detects Magic when they have the whole pile before them, the longsword registers, it will indeed go to Cas, when, and if, he wakes. The others re-equip as necessary, Bec takes a good quality longsword and shield in case he needs to fight in close quarters.

They make camp here, Newt and Jim briefly head out the hole to hide their tracks and make sure the rafts are well out of sight.

On the way back the pair lean shields and swords against the crawlspace, figuring that if someone wants to get in they’ll have to dislodge the pile.

They rest again.

The early warning system proves its worth three hours later, when clambering into the chamber come another trio of skeletons, similarly armoured.

The creatures are summarily destroyed by Jim, Bec and Newt, with no harm coming to the brave adventurers.

Newt gets twitchy a while later and without telling anyone slips out, the water seems to extend out from where they’re camped, another huge pool, there may be another landing, over the far side- he can’t make it out for sure.

What he is certain of is there’s a ledge somewhere, he can hear voices, Kobold’s, it must overlook the lake he thinks, and with that he heads back inside.

A little later in the cold dark Jim wakes, Anya’s on guard duty, he can see the whites of her eyes.

“Why did you come back?” He whispers.
Anya thinks, before whispering back.
“I couldn’t go back… to my old life.”
Jim nods.
“Things have changed, no that’s not it- I’ve changed.” Anya goes on.
Jim nods again.
“But Lowth hasn’t. It won’t. Ever.” She finishes and rubs her eyes.
The silence stretches.

“Don’t despair. You can change it.” Jim reaches out, touches Anya’s shoulder, she leans her head down, rests it on his hand.
“Thanks Jim.” She whispers.
He moves in closer.

They hold each other in the dark.

“I thought you came back for Cas.” Jim half-smiles.
Anya, just for a second, stiffens, and then looks away.

Next Turn: A Little Army


----------



## Pedestrian

Just wanted to leave a comment to extend my appreciation for this and your other two story hours. I'm enjoying them very much. Thanks, Goonalan.


----------



## monboesen

> Human Male Commoner Level 1 (Training to become a Barbarian)
> CG HP 11 AC 14 Init +1
> Str 18 Dex 12 Con 18 Int 11 Wis 8 Ch 9





Why all the stupidity?

Bec is actually more intelligent that the average person. (and more intelligent than Ala for instance)



> Elf Female Cleric Level 1
> NG HP 9 AC 18 Init +3
> Str 14 Dex 17 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 17 Ch 13


----------



## Goonalan

Simply put the person who plays Bec is not keen on interaction, she's been playing for a while and yet her characters to date, in my games have been-

Bob Human Male Ranger level 8 Priest of Kord level 7- the strong silent type, actually another ex-farm boy, his family cultivated Turnips, the youngest brother of seven, with the same number of sisters- he never got a word in edgeways. A monosyllabic gentle giant that usually saves the day, and has a one word catch-phrase, actually Bob never had a catch-phrase, generally it was the other party members that yelled, "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB", and he came running.

Barbi Human Female Fighter level 1 RIP- Can't remember the back-story, she didn't stick around long, catch-phrase was something like, "Yeah, S'pose." Usually in reply to a question such as- "Barbi, quick get the Goblin, I'm dying here..." Killed in an Orc ambush.

Fred Human Male Fighter level 1 RIP- A farmer's son... hang on, I think I've heard this one before. Can't remember how he died but it was in The Sunless Citadel, which I've played so many times, and loved, that the module is almost in bits.

Hamilton Gaylord Flambeu Male Halfling Rogue level 1 RIP- actually I rolled Hamilton up so he doesn't really count. It needs to be said that he was as silent as he was deadly, actually more so, as he ended up agreeing (or at least nodding) in agreement with the double-crossing Priest in the scenario "Evil Unearthed" which appeared in the first Dungeon Magazine that went 3E, can't remember the number. Unfortunately the Priest in question led the party into an ambush with a bunch of Kobolds, some minor Undead, and him- a 5th level Cleric of Hextor, result TPK. Famous last words, after stabbed in the back and criticaled by said Priest- "AAAArrrgrhhhhhh. And you can quote me on that."

Langley Human Male Fighter level 1 RIP- an ex-town guardsman, from a large family, hey, I've heard that somewhere before, catch-phrase something like, "get 'em." Alas Langley met his maker in B2 Keep on the Borderlands, converted to 3e, in "The Shunned Cavern", along with two other members of the party, in the first chamber they investigated. Langley dived into a pool to avoid a Ooze of some sort, and after a series of "1"s on other terrible dice rolls, was engulfed by a very slow moving second Ooze- one of the other players dived in to help him, only to witness the moment when Langley imploded within the Ooze as he reached -10 hit points.

Weetabix Half-Orc Male Fighter Level 1 RIP- eaten by a ghoul, hey-ho, no last known words.

My point being while the stats don't lie, Miss E. who plays Bec, is ploughing a familiar furrow.

If you're wondering how I knew all of the above then I went through my "Dead File" which, when times are slow, or I am low, I review. I've got all the character sheets of everybody I've ever killed- they say serial killers like to keep mementoes of their victims.

Also

Bec has a secret, a big secret...

Now that's a better explanation isn't it.

Thanks for reading.


----------



## Richard Rawen

I've had similar players, the most exciting change they ever made to their default Ranger was to add a level of Rogue one time.  Oh, and of course to dust off a "Basic" edition Elf and make him a Ranger (oh, yeah, alllll of them were Elves.  Not even bandwagon to our fav Drow, nope, straight High Elven, even when Grey, Wood, Wild... Yes, he even turned down the benies of Wood Elfdom . . . )
Of course when the LotR movies came out we all had to start calling his PC's Legolas... 
after he asked about the bow and/or arrow as an impromptu melee weapon . . . in front of the group 

Well keep the hits comin, good to see a (near)death experience for the leader type, builds character (or at least opens RP opportunities ! )


----------



## Goonalan

I must admit, at times our (my) game can survive, for a good while, on a steady stream of hack-and-slash. I think these people have work-related demons they need to exorcise. Funnily enough Bob, one of Miss E.'s earlier characters, was one of my favourites to DM, I could second guess his actions, which would result in Bec getting into all manner of terrifying situations-

Being captured by a Grell, constantly passing his Palayzation saving throw, fighting the thing as it bore him off, hacking at the tentacles holding onto him as the Grell floated higher and higher. Eventually killing the thing and plummeting out of the air only to land in the only bit of deep water in the cavern.

I also remember Bec fighting a Huge Water Elemental, as represented on the gaming table, before I got my miniatures, by a can of Sprite, from the inside- and winning, while taking constant damage and with lots of minuses.

Or plugging a doorway while a horde, at least twenty, Trogs tried, and repeatedly failed to get past him.

The above all from the Temple of Elemental Evil.

I can safely say- I liked Bob a lot, still do, although he's not had a run out in over three years; he's a job to do, and he always does it.

So back to Bec, he's not a role-player, at least not a lot but he does the same job.

Miss E. who plays Bec is perhaps just plain shy, there, I've said it.

And so onwards, ever onwards... further into the mire.

Thanks again Richard.

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 18: A Little Army

Day three beckons in the deep dark underground, Cas is back in the land of the living, and thankful, he’s particularly thankful for his new sword.

“I don’t know what to say.”
“Makes a change.” Newt states polishing his bed-side manner.
“Anyway we must get on.”

Ala frets, to herself, for a change.

Cas is briefed on what has transpired since his sudden lie-down, he knows some of the story but the others fill in the gaps. Newt even finds the time to tell them about the ledge he thinks is out there- somewhere, weaves it into the story, without letting on he’s been for a midnight wander.

An hour later, after a decent breakfast, the gang are back on board the rafts and are paddling with all their might, across the current towards, towards… well who knows what.

They’re spotted, at some point on their journey; a crossbow bolt thunks into the lead raft, maybe it was the two burning sunrods that gave their location away, a necessary risk- as I’ve already stated they have no idea where they’re going.

More crossbow bolts rain down; they paddle on in silence, until Newt is hit- a bolt lodging in the back of his thigh.

“Feckin’ buggerations.” The Gnome screams.

There’s a splash in the water behind them- are they throwing things? Actually it’s a Kobold who in all his excitement slips off the ledge above- the creature sinks without a trace; heavy armour meets water- a fatal flaw.

“It’s up there.”

Newt points, there’s a fleck of light, a brazier on a ledge only ten feet above the water, but now a way behind them. The first raft grounds, they’re ashore, the second soon follows.

The group disembark, Ala gathers them quickly, Blesses them all in the name of Corellon. Anya coats herself in her Mage Armour, and is ready with Swish- to let him loose.

The gang jog up a gradual incline towards the outline of a cavern ahead.

“Charge.”
“Destroy the foreign infidels.”
“In the name of Abomination.”

They seem to be expected, a steady line of heavily armed and armoured Kobolds rush down the slope to greet them, there must be a dozen of the creatures.

Ala Summons a Celestial Badger into the Kobold ranks; it distracts a couple of them but does no actual damage. Newt stops where he is.

THUNG

A Kobold falls dead. 

The two sides clatter into each other, battle erupts, the Kobolds fare better than the Goodman Gang, Jim manages to slice a one dead however he’s cut on the back of his hand. Cas too suffers, a blow to the side of his head, nothing much but it bleeds a little. Bec is sliced twice, across both legs. Ala gets away with bruised ribs, painful, but not terribly damaging.

As the battle rages four more Kobolds arrive in the cavern entrance ahead, set up for shooting practice, crossbows at the ready. That makes around fourteen of the heavily armed creatures in the fight.

Two Kobolds break off and rush towards Anya, “Smidgin”, one of them hits the cold cavern floor, dead. The other is blocked by Swish, the two dance around each other for a while, trying to land the first blow, then Swish whacks down on the Kobold’s unprotected head- brains it, dead.

The Celestial Badger is proving more of inconvenience than a threat, as is Ala, as is Bec, as is Jim. Cas however stabs at a Kobold trying to get past him- to Newt, runs it through and then turns and slays another, the new sword is working well. 

The Badger meanwhile fades to smoke. Bec suddenly sprouts a crossbow bolt, dead centre of his chest, it hurts, but only when he laughs.

Anya steps from behind the raging melee, gets a good eye full of the Kobolds with crossbows, “Smidgin”, one falls dead. 

Back in the melee Ala slashes hard, connects, and slays another. Newt’s crossbow jams, he throws it aside in anger, bloody Kobolds, draws his heavy mace and wades into the storm. Cas swings wildly, misses by a mile, smashes his hand into the cavern wall, drops his new sword, so much for that then. Bec is sliced again, they’re all just little cuts and bruises, but he’s accumulating hits fast. 

“SANDWICH.”

Bec Rages, if only for the hit points.

THUNK

Cas is hit by a crossbow bolt, doubles up, the pain, grabs his sword, and then comes up swinging again. Jim slices clean through a Kobold Footman, and-

“FoooooR CAS.”

Charges at the artillery, he’s very loyal.

And that seems to perk everyone up a bit.

“Smidgin”, Anya’s getting the hang of this; she’s adopting various poses while pointing her wand- vogue-ing. Ala swings, blood spurts, and another Kobold bites the dust. Newt likewise smashes one about the head with his mace, the creature slumps- dead.

“Foooor PELOR.”

Cas charges at the artillery, there are two of them left, they retreat, firing as they go. Jim catches another crossbow bolt, it skims his arm leaving a bloody trail. Bec faces of against the last of the Kobold Footmen, slices the creature in two, and runs on towards the artillery, who abandoned all pretence and leg it.

“Smidgin”, another one drops down dead, that leaves only one left.

“Everyone forward, follow them. PELORRRRRR.”

Cas urges them on. Ala charges up to Bec on the way, fires healing energy into the giant man. Cas alleviates some of his own pain using his magical healing ability. Newt darts back for his crossbow; he’s not that stupid, and then sprints off after them.

They’re heading down again, a natural looking cavern passage, wide- nearly fifteen feet, with a high ceiling, they head west. Pass a cavern opening on the left and chase on, as the passage twists to head north. Bec races ahead, puts on another burst of speed, catches up with the last fleeing Kobold, and SLICE, kills it dead. 

There are shouts ahead.

“Kobold Elite Squad forward.”

CLUNG-CLUNG-CLUNG-CLUNG

“Halt.”

A military formation, two lines with six Kobolds in each, the front row with swords, the back row with crossbows.

“Fire.”

And they do, the gang run, back the way they came.

Cas is hit in the shoulder, he’s feeling woozy, decides this isn’t the place to have a lie down however.

“Charge.”

The six Kobold Footmen come rumbling forward. The adventurers stop, they’re not going to get far, it seems battle number two is about to be joined.

Anya keeps running back, then turns swiftly, wand out and… “Smidgin”, another Kobold falls dead. Newt too makes for the rear ranks, sets to fixing his crossbow, and miraculously in half-a-moment the blockage is clear.

The front line, Jim, Bec, Cas and Ala stand their ground, meet the Kobold charge with full force. Cas upper-cuts unpeeling the Kobold charging towards him- dead. Bec, who has changed to his great club since coming ashore, smashes the thing down on one Kobold, who crunches to the deck in an instant; he swings the club around and brains another. Jim, alas, is cut in the action, another minor wound to the upper arm. There are only two Kobold Footmen left, oh and all the ones with the crossbows, talking of which.

“Fire.”

Bec’s scratched as a crossbow bolt flies by leaving a trace along his cheek. Jim’s not so lucky, a bolt buries itself in his upper thigh, he sinks to one knee, and then struggles up again, he’s on his last legs.

“Retreat and reload.”

The Kobold artillery march backwards, in step, and set about reloading for more fish-in-a-barrel type activity.

Anya screams, “Smidgin”, it’s getting to be her catchphrase; one of the Kobold artillery hits the deck. Newt steps in, sights his prey, and fires- another Kobold hits the deck, only four of the artillery left.

Ala stumbles backwards, swings wildly, two Kobold Footmen turn her, she’s up against the wall, she takes a cut to her side, but fights on. 

“CAS.”

And he’s there keeping the two at bay.

Jim and Bec share a look, the way ahead is clear. The Kobolds fire.

“CHA…”

A crossbow hits Jim in the arm and he’s down, Bec charges on, scatters the firers as he swings, they drop their crossbows scuttle back grabbing for melee weapons.

“Smidgin”, another Kobold drops, Anya poses. 

THUNG

And another Kobold lies dead, courtesy of Newt, of course. Ala and Cas keep up the fight, the Kobolds score no hits, but neither do the heroes. Bec only has two enemies left before him, he swings hard, smashes one into the middle of next week, the other sees its chance and stabs its shortsword deep into the Barbarian’s leg.

Then the Kobold notices, perhaps for the first time, the rapidly diminishing odds- it flees, and is cut down, actually smashed down in an instant by Bec.

The other two Kobolds, facing Ala and Cas, also think better of it, and scamper. They dodge past Cas and Ala, who swing wildly, with no success, dodge past Bec, confusing him by going one either side of him, and at the same time.

Thung

Newt’s crossbow bolt careens off a wall- misses.

“Smidgin”, the second to last Kobold grips the cold stone floor.

“He’s getting away.” Cas goes to run after the creature, Ala grabs him. Bec limps into a trot.

“Wait.”

Bec stops, looks back, at Newt who’s aiming.

“Wait.”

Newt breaths in- fires.

ThhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhUNG

The last Kobold falls, scrapes along the floor a while, and then comes to a stop- deceased.

The gang head back down the passage, out of sight, swig potions, Ala sets to work with what’s left of her Healing Kits, and at the end of it Bec, Cas, Jim and Anya are all still injured- Jim and Cas the most severe. There are no Healing Potions left, or at least that’s what everyone’s saying, but if I were you I’d not believe Newt, or Anya.

Newt, with a little help from others, has recovered 21 more three-fingered golden pendants, 26 if you include the five he has just stuffed in one of his pockets.

The gang stumble into the cavern they passed in their initial charge, the passage beyond splits, climbs left, while the right hand passage leads into a chamber with a number of braziers burning in it, it’s another guardroom- empty. A routine search, led by Newt, nets a number of pieces of uncut Agate, the party is a little richer, as is Newt- he grins, like taking candy from a baby.

And then on, into a second guardroom, although smaller, and much neater, it has an old tapestry that serves as a curtain so as to guarantee it some privacy, perhaps they’ve found the officers quarters.

“Sniff. You can smell it.” Newt states.
“What?” Jim enquires.
“Treasure.”

Suddenly the two beds in the chamber are upended, turned on their sides to form makeshift barricades behind each a strange, pale-faced, wild-eyed, and haired, Dwarf appears, dressed all in black and pointing crossbows, nasty looking ones at that.

FWOUN
FWOUN

The first bolt smashes through Cas’ armour, he drops his sword and shield, grabs at the bolt, thinks to pull it out, then notices just how much blood he’s already lost, he drops to his knees, blood spurts from the wound. Pelor save me, he thinks, and then the poison hits him, ravages him, he slumps forward smashing his face into the stone.

The second bolt hits Bec, gouges a huge hole in his upper right arm and shoulder, he doesn’t bother to ask Pelor for anything, the poison hits, he falls backwards, twitches and foams at the mouth on the cavern floor.

The Derro drop their crossbows and charge.

“Into them.”
“Death to the top-siders.”

Jim barrels into the first one, stabs wildly, and connects leaving a bloody scar from the Dwarves belly to its chin, the creature staggers back. Ala leaps over Cas, attempts to repeat Jim’s feat, slices only air.  

Thung

Newt’s crossbow sings, but as it turns out, it’s out of tune, he misses.

“Smidgin”, the Magic Missile thumps… hang on, blinks out of existence just as it was about to hit.

“Damn. Spell Resistance.” Anya tuts.

The Derro facing Jim swings desperate to connect, misses by a mile, Jim plunges his longsword through the evil Dwarf, head butts him for good measure, the Derro is dead.

“For Cas.”

Ala tries it on for size, she swings and misses, and the Derro buries its shortsword in her gut, she sinks to her knees, the Derro readies his sword for the killing blow, and-

THUNG

Suddenly sprouts a crossbow bolt from the middle of his forehead- dead, thanks to Newt again.

Anya is quickly at the fallen, checking for pulses, they’re all still in the land of the living.

“GO.” She orders.
“Back to the rafts.”

And they’re off again, in retreat, dragging Cas and Bec, Ala now up but staggering, it’s a rag-tag bunch, except for Newt who dodges back to the Derro and rifles through their pockets, he’s soon caught up however, carrying an impressive, but impractical, looking shield, a mixture of gold and silver. His pockets also bulge with gold and a beautifully cut diamond. He’s the only one grinning as they paddle their way back over to their official lair, the graveyard.

Once in they settle down again to wait the latest lot of injuries out, Bec and Cas are unconscious, Ala fades in and out, Jim looks like a man who has been kicked in the balls, repeatedly, for half-an-hour.

Newt’s polishing, and sneaking glances at his new found items, and Anya, believe it or not, is playing nurse maid- badly.

“Shut up moaning, bloody softy, Bec’s not complaining.”

Bec is of course unconscious, a line of bloody drool anchoring him to the cavern floor. Cas turns over to see, wincing and groaning in pain, he blinks once, twice- then passes out.

“That’s better, bloody moaner…” Anya gets on with her nursing.

And with that the second session of this scenario draws to a close.

Next Turn: Feck, Kobolds.

It become apparent at the ceremonial adding up of the experience points at the end of this session that Newt has enough to go up to 2nd level, it’s decided that he can have the hit points, the saves and the to hit improvement; but the feats and the skill points only come with training. Either way Newt’s happy.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 19: Feck, Kobolds

And so the fourth day begins underground, they seem to have reached an impasse; it’s proving to be a war of attrition- hard to say yet just who’s winning. 

The day starts slowly, Cas and Bec are still unwell, their strength is returning, but Ala, who’s up and about now, makes the decision that the group will not go on until they are fully rested.

Anya is a little sheepish, she hunkers down next to Cas, who’s still in his pit, she has something in her hand, she whispers.

“Cas?”
The Paladin turns to her, “Mmm.”
“I have… I’ve got… I’ve got a Potion of Healing.” She opens her hand.
The Paladin nods.
“I never told… said, I should have…”
Cas nods again.
“I never meant to…” Anya sniffles a little, offers the Potion to Cas.
“Keep it.” He whispers, “in case”, smiles and then closes his eyes.

Newt overhears the exchange, pats a belt pouch at his side, the one with four Potions of Healing in it.

Time passes oh so slowly, it’s not until the middle of the afternoon that everyone is up and about again, ready for the action.

Cas calls a meeting, time to talk tactics.

“Look there’s something odd here…”
“You mean other than death and destruction at every corner.” Newt’s feeling the pain.
“Kobold’s though Newt, they’re very… co-ordinated.”
“Mmm.” Newt concedes the point.
“I think there’s something going on, you saw the Ogre, even the Stirges looked different, there’s something terrible in here, the three-fingered stuff, I think we need to press on.”
“We need to take better care of ourselves.” Ala adds.
Cas nods, “and so we need to have a better plan…”
“And you’re going to tell us what that is.” Newt folds his arms across his chest.
“No, you are.” Which takes the Gnome by surprise.
“Oh.”
“All of you. We need a little more order, we need to know what are jobs are. There’s going to be more of this, I think it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
Silence.
“Possibly much worse.”
“How?” Anya asks.
“They’ll be waiting for us again, back at the ledge, back at the other side of the pool.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s what I’d do.”
Anya nods, “yes, same here.”
“So what do we do?” Jim asks.
“We look after each other a little better to begin with.”
Everyone nods.
“After that, well what does anyone think…”

An hour later the group are back on the rafts, this time without the light, Newt thinks he knows the way, it’s not far. They’re being as silent as they can, it’s not until they hit the far shore that the Kobolds on the ledge realise they’re there, they’ve got by them.

Fwung x lots.

The Kobold’s shots are rushed however, no hits.

Sunrods flash out into the darkness illuminating more Kobolds equally surprised they scrabble for crossbows.

Fwung x more.

Bec takes a bolt to his right thigh, a flesh wound. 

“Now.” Cas shouts as Ala’s Bless spell sparkles on each of them.

Jim, Cas and Anya- march forwards, up the rocky shore, arrows and, “Smidgin”, a Magic Missile is loosed. A Kobold falls dead.

Newt meanwhile kneels behind the front line.

THWUNG

A kobold plummets off the ledge into the water.

More Kobolds scramble, it seems their ambush plans have already gone astray, a rain of javelins falls in the midst of the adventurers, Anya and Ala are nicked, both wounds mere grazes.

The Kobolds ahead reload their crossbows.

The javelin throwers, more Kobold footmen, heavily armoured, clang into the light.

BOOOOOOOOM

Newt’s Thunderstone, disrupts their charge, one goes down holding bleeding ears, another two stand about somewhat bemused, and deafened.

“SANDWICH!”

Bec Rages and charges over into the mix, his great club describes a furious arc, smashes one of the creatures to the floor.

Anya struts and poses as she strides forward, “Smidgin”, another of the Kobold Artillery bites the dust.

“CHARGEEEEEE.” Cas screams.

And everyone is up and running, including several of the Kobolds back the way they came- in retreat. Cas slices one of the heavily armoured Kobold Footmen, across its throat, the blood sprays everywhere. 

Ala takes another scratch from a Kobold Footman, but the Kobolds are broken.

Thung.

Newt gets a fleeing Kobold in the back of the head, dead. “Smidgin”, another Magic Missile spirals out from Anya’s wand and finds a foe- dead.

Cas rushes at Bec who’s losing it, crashing and flailing as Kobolds scatter, grabs him by the arm, spins him round.

“After them.” He tries pointing.
Bec looks like he doesn’t understand, follows the Paladins pointing finger- to the scurrying Kobolds.
“AAAAaaaaaarrrghhhhh.”
Bec pushes Cas away from him, with enough force to knock the Paladin over, moves to stand over Cas, raises his club, drool matting the front of his armour, his face is flecked with spittle and blood, Bec shakes his head- looks again at where Cas is still pointing, and rushes after the Kobolds.

A deafened Kobold staggers into view.

Thung.

It slumps to the floor, Newt races forward grinning at Cas.

“Come on; get up lazy bones- lots to do.”

Bec reaches the slowest of the Kobolds, encased in armour, the creature looks round, just in time to see, in detail, Bec’s great club. The Kobold is smashed a good ten feet into the air, it clangs into the cavern ceiling, then wall, and falls to the floor, a twisted wreck.

Cas scrambles to his feet, points again.

“Come on, get after him.”

Jim runs by, winks, “it’s working.” Cas nods.

Ala settles for slapping the Paladin on his armoured backside.

Cas grins again and jogs after Bec and the others.

A Kobold runs into the side of the chasing group of adventurers, one of the crossbow wielding creatures from the ledge, suddenly realises who its fellow joggers are, and dodges for all it’s worth into-

SMASH

Bec’s club.

Newt meanwhile is looting all the Kobold bodies left on the shore, eight more pendants, and as many crossbow bolts as he can carry- he scurries after his comrades.

Bec charges on round the corner, to the place they met the armoured contingent the last time they came this way, there’s a lone Kobold, the sole survivor, a little way ahead, heavily armoured stumbling forward- staring back at the closing Barbarian.

The creature spins round to meet Bec, it can’t out-pace the giant-man.

“Come o… SMASH.”

The Kobold lands twenty feet away, Bec rushes on.

“Hang on.” Cas shouts, then, “Bec?”

But it’s not enough to stop the juggernaut, Bec charges on, Cas shrugs, points the way, the others catch him up, save for Newt who’s still finding corpses to loot. Cas, Jim, Anya and Ala charge after Bec.

The rough stone passage turns into a flagged corridor crafted from some reflective black stone, and through a door into a…

Huge ornately columned temple, or something like it, the walls are covered in frescoes depicting a man in blue robes, eight huge pillars carved to resemble titan size humans, in various guises, hold the ceiling aloft. 

Cas, Anya, Jim and Ala slide to a stop.

“Bloody hell.” Jim manages.
“I told you there was something here.” Cas states.
“Where’s Bec?”

SMASH

“Sandwich?”

The foursome crane to see between a pair of pillars, they spot a freshly smashed door on the eastern wall of the chamber, and glimpse the hulking Barbarian disappearing within.

“That way.” Cas points, “where’s Newt?” He looks back down the passage they’ve just come from.
Ala and Jim shrug, rush off.
“Looting.” Anya states and heads off too.
Cas waits a moment, there’s no sign of the Gnome, he can’t hang around- only as strong as the weakest link, he thinks, and follows after Bec and the others.

Unseen by any of the adventurers another pair of heavily armoured Kobolds shut the door at the northern end of the temple chamber, and scurry off to tell their masters.

Bec stumbles down another wide passage, more of the black stone, two lines of statues- he rushes on, there’s a door on the right, and it’s just closing- red rag to a bull.

He slows and lurches over, smashes the door off its hinges, and onto the Kobold Footman beyond, who scrambles out from beneath it. Bec strides into… a library.

Massive stone bookcases fill the room, which is lit by a number of flaming braziers, a cluster of Kobold Footmen back away as the giant-man slashes wildly with his great club. Another cluster of Kobolds can be seen further in- a robed Kobold strides forward from this gang and points at the Barbarian.

“DO ONE.”

Black tendrils shoot from Kobold Wizard’s fingers; engulf Bec, for an instant, the Barbarian flexes and growls, the black smoke fades in an instant. 

“Destroy the infidel in the name of the Abomination.” The Kobold Wizard simply states.

The three Kobold Footman guards that surround him rush over to join their comrades. The odds don’t look too good, seven to one, with one of the seven being a Wizard, still reinforcements are on the way.

SMASH

And.

CLUMP

Two of the Kobold Footmen are dead, skulls crushed, however the Barbarian takes three blows in the process, all minor injuries, he soldiers on.

WHUMP

A Magic Missile thuds into his chest, Bec staggers back, close to unconsciousness, then feels warmth flowing through him- Healing. He grins. He can feel Ala’s hand in the small of his back.

Jim however fails to find the brake, rushes, unsighted into the chamber, and into Ala, knocking the pair of them to the floor.

“Sorry.”
“Fool.”

Anya appears at the door way, throws Swish towards a Kobold Footman, “Akkat”, then points her wand, it’s never out of her hand- “Smidgin”, a Magic Missile slams into a Kobold Footman, dead.

Swish uses the impetus of Anya’s throw, roundhouse-kick’s- sort of, another Kobold Footman, cracking its skull, the Kobold slumps to the floor- dead.

The odds are looking much better now.

Cas jogs into the chamber, takes a last look behind him, “where the Pelor is Newt?” Takes in the situation, lances his longsword forward and impales another Footman, dead. 

Ala stagers to her feet, the shadow of a Kobold Footman looms over, she slashes out, angrier at Jim than the Kobolds, her sword passes through the shadow which… is just a shadow- strange.

Jim scrabbles out of the room, on hands and knees, it’s getting far too busy in there, he looks up- back down the passage they’ve just come from. There are figures in the doorway, blocking their retreat.

“You guys…” Jim gets his bow out.

Back in the library a Dire Rat suddenly pops into existence, snaps its jaws at Ala, who scurries back, out of range. Anya screams, “Smidgin”, a Magic Missile thumps into the Kobold Wizard, it looks suitably annoyed.

The Kobold before Cas seems to blur, a shadow of the creature darts towards him, he reacts, the shadow dissipates, Cas struggles to present his shield to block the Kobold’s actual attack. Cas shakes his head, he’s seeing things.

Bec’s Rage subsides, his shoulders slump, suddenly aware of the amount of damage he’s taken, the two Kobold Footmen left renew their efforts.

Meanwhile Newt stumbles into the Temple area, the one with the huge pillars holding the ceiling up, juggling more of three-fingered golden pendants in his hand, and chuckling.

He looks up, there’s a cluster of heavily armoured Kobolds pushing their way through a door on the eastern side of the chamber, there must be a dozen of them.

“Intruder.”

A Kobold points at him, Newt looks about, then behind him- nope, the Kobold means him. Three of the Kobolds peel off from the bunch and stride towards him- weapons drawn. These Kobolds are different, slightly taller, much more vicious looking, red scales dot their skins, hardened and glistening in the light, they’re growing their own armour- or so it seems. They’re snouts and jaws extended, huge fangs snap and clack, tasting the air as they approach.

“De…”
“Str…”
“Roy.”

The three close in for the kill.

“CAAAAAAS.”

Jim screams, there are more of them, at least a half-a-dozen of the gnashing snarling Elite Kobolds shamble into the corridor he guards.

Next Turn: The Elite.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Triffic stuff, Goonalan.

And for all that I enjoy the sheer madness of the Lost Boys, I think I like the more serious style of this story even more.    The more mature relationships between the various characters are great. And the Newt/Ala tension is particularly intriguing.

Keep up the good work.


----------



## Goonalan

Thanks again, much appreciated


Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 20: The Elite

Back in the library Bec totters, then swings hard- smashes another Kobold Footman to the ground, launches himself at the conjured Dire Rat, the creature leaps at him, he stumbles back to avoid it, blinks his eyes, the rat hasn’t moved, he swings half-heartedly- misses by a mile.

Ala dodges in, stabs down, the Dire Rat turns to mist and swirls away.

Jim screams again from the corridor.

“I said they’re coming…”, and sotto voce, “whatever they are.”

He fires, twice, Rapid Shot, the first with his magic arrow- the result two head shots, two dead Elite Kobolds, these too are the twisted Kobolds Newt is fighting- even more vicious and feral-looking.

Back in the library the Kobold Wizard swigs at a potion then leaps and runs up the wall and on to the ceiling. 

“Ha ha… Fools…”

“Smidgin”, another Magic Missile slams into the Wizard, he doesn’t look best pleased with Anya.

Cas and Bec are fighting the one Kobold Footman left, however the strange Kobold seems able to duplicate itself, shadows form and fall left, right and centre- they both hit air.

Back in the temple Newt stands his ground as the three Kobold Elite warriors approach.

“Screw you lot.”

He slings his last Thunderstone at the threesome.

BOOOOOM

It explodes on a Kobold’s armoured midriff, the creature slumps to his knees, bleeding from ears, nose and eyes.

The other two Kobold Elite are staggered.

Newt tosses aside his crossbow, draws his Heavy mace and gestures for them to approach.

“Come on then, you’re going to need new dentures by the time I’ve done with you.”

FWUNG

Jim hits another Elite Kobold back in the corridor, the creature slumps to the floor, dead. Jim throws his bow aside and hefts his battleaxe- the six remaining enemies charge towards him.

“Death to the intruders.”
“The Abomination is Lord.”

They mumble and chant as they fling themselves into the fray.

Back in the library, Ala stabs hard at the remaining Kobold Footman, that’s so far holding his own against all of them, she too misses.

The Kobold Wizard sprints along the ceiling, out of the library, and into the corridor, stands directly above Jim.

“Smidgin”, the final Kobold Footman in the library bites the dust.

“Help Jim”, Anya shouts and points the way- Ala, Cas and Bec struggle to obey. Swish hops out to stand next to Jim, to guard him.

Ala, Cas and Bec arrive as the Kobold Elite smash into them, the fight is joined, lots of blows go astray, it’s a confusing mess within the melee. Cas manages to land a decent blow, his longsword biting into the body of one of the Kobolds, the creature falls dead.

Anya watches through the door, it’s hard to see what’s going on, shadows of Kobolds seem to form and cluster, spectral shapes flail and slice, and the adventurers locked in the death struggle don’t know which to attack- a bolus of dark energy seems to grip the melee.

Standing on the ceiling above the scrum the Kobold Wizard swigs from another potion bottle, which is harder than you think when you’re hanging upside down.

Back in the Temple Newt’s initial confidence is getting dented, as is he, both of the Elite Kobolds score hits, not deep cuts, but enough for him to reconsider his position.

In the corridor, Ala is shoved out of the fight; she looks up and spies the Kobold Wizard on the ceiling, about to gulp down yet another potion.

“Bastard.”

Ala quickly unstraps her shield, launches it at the Kobold Wizard, like some giant discus, the fiend dodges just in time but in doing so spills the entire contents of the flask.

He doesn’t look happy, drops the empty potion bottle into the furious melee below, and then moves, at lightning speed, a little away from the fight, quick turns and draws a wand.

“Duck.”

Ala does, others try but they’re fighting for their lives.

“FLAME-ON”

The Kobold Wizard screams, a thick wedge of fire rolls over the combat, crisping, a little, Bec, Cas and Jim. An Elite Kobold stumbles from the melee on fire, the creature charges away, flapping helplessly as it burns, hits a statue and collapses to the floor for a little more break dancing before it expires.

The shadows flee in an instant- the way is clear.

Swish bashes another of the Kobolds over the head; it sinks to the floor- dead. Bec smashes his great club down on another, dead, turns the stroke to a baseball batter’s swing and decapitates yet another- the Kobold’s head goes skittering off further down the passage.

Leaving only one of the Elite Kobolds left, it bolts, as does the Wizard on the ceiling- both head back towards the Temple, where Newt is.

“Smidgin”

Another Magic Missile thumps into the back of the Wizard, the creature turns to face Anya, she’s really for it.

Jim quickly recovers his bow, working purely on instinct, notches an arrow and lets it fly- it strikes the Kobold Wizard in his left leg, passes through, the Kobold screams and lifts his leg- then struggles for a second, one foot still firmly planted on the ceiling, the other kicks air, then he falls…

CRACK

And lands awkwardly on the floor, neck clearly broken.

Newt meanwhile, back in the Temple, finds his balance, swings and connects with a Kobold’s head; it staggers back, a face full of mace, and collapses. The second Kobold checks the odds; another of his kind flees towards him, in pursuit is Bec, decision made- he scarpers.

Newt drops his mace, scrambles for his crossbow, and before the creature has got thirty feet.

THUNG

It grows a crossbow bolt from its back.

Bec barrels past him, chasing the last one down.

“SAAA-NNNND-WIIIII-TCHHH.”

A minute or so later Bec returns, all smiles.

The Goodman Gang head back to the library, leaving Jim back out in the corridor to keep an eye on things.

“Well that went better.” Ala states.
The others nod.
“Bec try to retain a little more control when you’re raging, I’m on your side guy.” Cas offers, Bec looks embarrassed, nods. “No biggie, it’s ok, you haven’t got me yet.” Cas checks himself over, then smiles at the giant man.

Everyone has a minor injury or two, or worse. Ala does the best she can to get them back to full health.

Newt has pockets full of the three-fingered pendants, so many so he can’t remember which belong to the party treasure, and which are the ones he’s stolen.

Anya meantime stalks the shelves, selecting texts, seemingly at random, her Detect Magic spell in full operation, this after ransacking the body of the Kobold Wizard, she grabs the Burning Hands Wand, seen in action earlier. Also on the shelves she discovers the Wizard’s Spellbook, it’d take a chisel to remove the smile from her face.

They rest.

“Did you see any… shadows?” Anya eventually asks.
“Only when I was watching the fight, out there”, she continue, points back to the corridor, where Jim stands, “I thought I saw something- shadowy creatures, surrounding the Kobolds.”

Nobody says anything for a while, eventually Cas cracks.

“Tricks of the light, probably the sunrods, the black walls, polished- quite a sheen… Tricks of the light.”

But nobody believes him.

“I tell you what I didn’t see… in the fight.” Ala stares pointedly at Newt.
Newt holds her gaze, not flinching.

Time expands till everyone is watching the confrontation.

“I don’t think we ought to…” Cas starts.
“Well?” Ala cuts Cas off.
“You stick to what you’re good at… Whatever that is? And I’ll do my job.”

Newt looks away.
“You’re a coward.” Ala spits back.

Newt turns back, glares at her, then after a moment, calms down, and smiles.

“A coward? If you’re asking if I’m frightened… Then yes, I am. That would be the normal reaction. If you’re asking me to give my life for… oh hang on, for what exactly, you don’t even know why you’re here- what you’re fighting, and for what.”
Ala goes to speak but Newt jumps back in.
“You’re pathetic- you don’t even know who you are?”

The silence thickens.
“That’s not…” Cas starts.

“I’d give my life to save another, those that I call my friends.” Ala growls.

Newt smirks then shrugs, gets up quickly, and wanders off.

Cas snakes an arm out to Ala.

She pushes him away.  

Twenty minutes later they head back to the Temple chamber to check out the door to the north, where the last pack of Elite Kobold warriors came from. 

The passage outside the library, the one that Jim has been guarding, also ends in a door; they decide to leave it for later.

“Never leave an enemy behind you.” Jim states.
Cas grins, as do the others- most of them.

The Temple, now they can take a leisurely look, contains dozens of frescoes of the same blue robed man, in various all-action poses- sending down bolts of lightning, binding a scorpion demon inside a pentagram, and many others.

“Any idea who he is?” Anya asks Cas.
The Paladin shakes his head.
“Ala?”
“No.”

The huge figures that hold up the ceiling each possess a holy symbol, somewhere about their person, Cas and Anya tick of the deities represented-

“St. Cuthbert.”
“Boccob.”
“Wee Jas.”
“Heironeous.”
“Pelor.”
“Olidamara.”
“Corellon.”
“The Green Man.”

“Odd”, Anya adds, “none of whom are in anyway associated with Kobolds, or Evil. Whatever this place once was, well… it isn’t anymore.”

“Right, ready- let’s head off again.” Cas leads the way north to the door.

“CAS”, Ala screams as he passes the last line of pillars, two amorphous creatures leech from the pillars, strings of ichor and goo drip from them, the first lashes out scratching hidden claws down Cas’s back, through his armour, and deep into his flesh.

The Paldain screams. 

Jim dodges back, as the second creature lashes out at him.

“DEMONS”, Anya screams. The adventurers scatter; fan out, around their new foes.

“Magic weapons”, Anya states and, “Smidgin”, a Magic Missile ploughs into the side of one of the Lemure’s. Ala slashes through the one on Cas, her weapon barely scratches the creature. Jim smashes his battleaxe into the Lemure menacing him, the creature screeches, claws at the air and staggers back.

Cas and Ala fight on against the other, once again shadows twist around the creature, they’re both mesmerised, swing wildly, neither connects with the creature which lurches forward leaving a viscous trail, the Lemure rakes its claws down Cas’ face. The Paladin lurches back blood cascading down his cheek.

Bec hefts his great club, lifts it way above his head, and drives it down on the other Lemure, which is already injured.

SPLAT

The creature concertinas and then explodes, a melted wax like substance liberally coats the area, and the combatants, then slowly dissolves into nothing, the creature is destroyed.

Cas swings off-balance, misses again. Ala connects, but leaves barely a scratch. The Lemure cackles and bubbles filth down itself, suddenly splits- vertically, leaving two wavering halves, a battleaxe clearly visible protruding through its midriff. 

The creatures face fades from Cas and Ala’s sight, eye-sockets ooze to the surface, as it now faces Jim, it  claws at Jim’s axe, tries to grab it, the Ranger swiftly heaves it out of the creature and dances back, the Lemure collapses into a stinking pile of filth- bubbles some more then vanishes.

“OK. Is there anybody else here that keeps seeing shadows?” Cas asks.
Ala, Bec and Jim nod.
“Oh you can see them now?” Anya asks.
Cas, bows his head, then nods- looks up at Anya, mouths “sorry.”
“What are they are?” Ala asks.
“I don’t know but I think this place is under some sort of terrible curse. The Kobolds, the way they look- there’s a darkness here.” Anya states.
Cas nods, “The fiends are evil, that’s obvious- I can feel their auras, but there’s something else here, something not… right.”
“I think we can bet on encountering more Kobold abominations, as we go on.” Jim states.
The others nod.

“Right then, again, the door.” Cas leads them off again.

Into another black stone passage, this time only five feet wide, it ends in a t-junction, the group head left to a door, which is wide open.

Inside a foul-smelling room lit by guttering torches, a torture chamber, the adventurers cautiously move in.

“This is… This is…” Cas begins and finishes off by drawing out his light mace and smashing the rack that stands before him.
“Smash it all up.” Ala confirms, staring pointedly at Newt, they set to work.

It takes a while, all that’s left of use, in the end, are a set of thumbscrews, they avoid destruction by being safe and secure in Newt’s backpack.

“Feel better?” Newt asks.
“Yes.” Cas nods.
“Much.” Ala concludes.

The group traipse back out of the chamber, and follow it over, to another door, once again, open. Beyond is a very odd looking chamber.

An L-shaped room, more of the black rock, there are six portrait-sized curtains around the walls, as if there are… portraits, what else, behind them. Perhaps they’ve wandered into some strange Kobold art gallery.

“Can I have sandwich?” Bec offers.

“This place gets weirder and weirder.” Jim strides into the chamber.

“Sandwich?”
“Alright Bec… later.” Jim adds.

Anya mooches into the chamber, wary, there’s a bunch of papers on the floor, and a crude looking short ladder, she heads over.

“SANDWICH?”
“You alright big guy?” Jim worries, he passes a cheese sandwich to Bec.

Bec begins to shuffle forward, holding the sandwich in his hands in front of him.

“SANDWICH?”

“CAS, Ala- Bec’s… gone funny.” Jim tries again.

“You’re alright big guy. Calm down. Don’t you want your sandwich?” Jim places his hand on Bec’s arm.

Bec stops his shuffle; the others close in on him, all except for Anya, she’s reading.

“That’s strange… they’re…” Anya states.

“SANDWICH? SANDWICH?”

Bec bursts free from the gaggle of concerned on-lookers, quick-shuffles forwards to one of the concealed portraits, and flings open the curtain.

RRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR

Fire consumes Bec.

Next Turn: Going Elemental


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 21: Going Elemental

Bec collapses, gibbers, holding in his hand the worlds first “cheese toastie”, he gibbers some more, takes a bite, gibbers once more, for luck- strings of melted cheese trapeze between the toastie and his maw. His clothes and facial hair still smoke, charred.

The company rush towards him while Anya conjures; a kid-skin gloved woman’s hand appears in the air close to her, gently flaps over to the curtain and draws it shut- the fire abates.

“What the hell was he doing?” Jim shouts.
“Bec?” Ala’s by his side.
The big man blinks his eyes, takes another bite, “Sandwich.”
He grins, takes another bite of his cheese toastie, and begins to lever himself up.
Ala uses the last of her healing spells, the burns fade, Bec’s back in full health.

The others help him up to his feet, although he doesn’t seem to need any assistance.
“Bec?” Cas wonders, “what was all that about?”
Bec chews hard at his toastie, waves it at Cas, “Sandwich.” He grins.

And that’s all they get out of him, except for a cheesy grin.

Anya and Newt move back to the pile of notes, begins to read through them, Anya quickly states.

“Don’t open any of the curtains- it seems they’re all portals to the Elemental Planes… It seems our Kobold friends have been spending their time trying to catch the wind from the Plane of Air, in a sack- which tells you everything you need to know about Kobolds.”
“Ridiculous.” Newt states.
“Exactly.” Anya confirms.
“It’d get through the holes.” Newt holds up a hessian sack, it has indeed got holes in it.

Anya shakes her head, “hang on though.”
“What?” Cas strides over past Bec, who grins furiously- licking his fingers, sated.

“Well it seems that…” Anya strides over to a curtain, draws it back with a florish, “this one goes somewhere else...”

Within the window to another world is an office, a small ten by ten room with a chest at the far end, and a small wooden table with a clutter of alchemist’s paraphernalia on it.

Newt dashes over, grabs the small set of steps, rushes back to the portal.

“Newt”, Cas shouts, “it might not be safe.”

And he’s in, he turns waves back at the others, and he’s at the chest, it’s easy to open- Newt grabs everything as the others watch on from outside of the portal.

Anya plucks up the courage, steps in, Newt turns to her and winks- the pair grab as much of the alchemical paraphernalia as they can carry safely and step out of the portal. Newt has located a number of potions, a thick cloak, and a fairly plain looking necklace, with only three beads on it, and a beautifully cut diamond, but that’s his reward for going.

“I think it’s time we rested up again, we’ve enough food for a few more days yet, we may as well take our time. We seem to be winning the war.” Cas states.

The others agree.

The happy gang file back to the graveyard, for another rest- believe me, and this is a DM moment, if I had anything left to throw at them I would. That and the scenario saying that the Kobolds, now without leadership (since before the scenario started), stay put, which means the Goodman Gang are free to retreat for rest and relaxation.

The rest of the day is spent cleaning and prepping, the night in fairly fitful sleep. Anya takes the time to have a look at the Wand she located on the Kobold Wizard, she already knows the command word, “Flame On”, it’s going to be her new toy- I can tell.

Ala wanders over to Newt, when nobodies looking,

“I bet you’ve stolen lots of stuff haven’t you? Picked things up here and there?” Ala smiles.
Newt considers the statement for a moment, then nods, and grins back.
“You’re nothing but a lowly thief, a parasite…” Ala trails off.
Newt takes a huge gulping of cooling water, wipes his mouth with his sleeve, considers Ala’s words again, and then nods some more, an even wider grin plastered on his face.
“Why?” Ala despairs.
“Because that’s what I do.” Newt levers himself to his feet. “You heal the fighters, that’s what you do, sure you wave that thing around a bit…”, Newt points at Ala’s longsword, “but you don’t hit much- do you?
Ala gets to her feet in a rush goes to draw her sword.
Newt stands stock still, “go on then…”, hands out- defenceless, “take your best shot.”

And loud enough for several of others to hear, and react, Cas and Anya, then Bec and Jim get to their feet.

Nothing happens for a while.

“Thought not.” Newt smiles thinly, then wanders off.

The next morning everything is done with a practiced efficiency, the stew tastes better- Newt has taken over cooking duties. Somebody finds a still fresh loaf of bread, Anya has some apples- they share everything, the shadows fade a little And yet...

Nobody’s speaking.

Day five underground, and a Detect Magic spell confirms that the potions, cloak and necklace are all indeed magical items. The potions are easily identified, healing, they’re shared out, Newt declines one- he’s got four salted away already. Jim takes the cloak, he’s no idea what it does but he likes the look of it- dark and plain. Anya takes the necklace, she has a number of ideas as to what it may be, she resolves to have the thing Identified why they return to civilisation.

Ala discovers that she is actually out of food, this proves not to be a problem as a number of the others still have over a week’s supply of hard tack, a brief inventory of supplies is taken, and they calculate that there’s enough food for them all for three more days.

The party return to the Temple complex and specifically the corridor outside of the library- there’s a door at the far end, as yet, remember, untried.

Newt goes ahead, to the door, checks it briefly- nothing untoward. Opens the door a little, a shadowy chamber, funny, the stone floor has been replaced by a gray-ish lifeless dirt, a purple glow emanates from the ceiling some twenty feet overhead. 

The gang cautiously enter, into a massively overgrown garden of twisted and spikey plant-life, shrubs and hedges all brown and dead, there’s a small clearing and the remains of a path ahead. The plant-life has taken over, the wall of thorns that surrounds them is some five feet high, and dense, almost impassable.

“What the…”, Newt begins.

Jim takes a look, he’s the Ranger after all, “we’ll whatever they were, the plants, they’re good and dead.” He snaps a twig off, “and dangerous”, he’s cut his hand.

The group fan out, Bec moves forward down the overgrown passage that leads off from the clearing.

“Sandwich.” Bec shouts and points.

“KWAAA.”

At a Kobold, of sorts, the creature has long thin arms that grip tight to a crossbow, it clutches onto the top of hedge, above Bec, with its clawed, bird-like, feet, a long thin tongue snakes out of its beak-like maw.

“KWAAAAAA.”

It studies Bec for a second.

Then fires.

The bolt smashes into the lifeless soil by Bec’s feet.

“KWAAA.”

A half-dozen of the strange Kobolds appear, perched on the hedges, surrounding the intrepid explorers.

TWONG x lots.

It’s an ambush.

Ala clutches at her arm, a scratch. Jim is not so lucky, a crossbow bolt slams into and through his throat, he slumps to the deck clutching at his neck, blood bubbles, he opens and closes his mouth but no sound comes out.

The Kobold-birds spring back, out of sight, only to be replaced by a second wave, another half-dozen.

Thwong x lots.

Bec smashes at the twisted hedge, perched on which is a pair of Kobolds, the creatures dance back, out of harms way. Anya grabs Jim and begins to drag him out of the chamber- she sprouts two crossbow bolts in the process, nearly falters, and yet drags the gasping Ranger out of the chamber.

Newt fires back, kills one in an instant. Cas takes a bolt to the side, nearly folds.

“Retreat.” The Paladin gasps, the gang head for the door, and are intercepted by Anya who’s on her way back in.

She steps into the chamber, using the door for cover, pokes out the wand she found on the Kobold Wizard and screams-

“FLAME ON.”

A carpet of fire spreads out into the underbrush, it ignites, flames shoot up and out, engulfing two of the Kobolds that shriek and caw as they burn.

“FLAME ON.”

Another whoosh of fire, the undergrowth rages.

“FLAME ON.”

Another.

Anya can hear the screams of the Kobolds as they flee.

“FLAME ON.”

And.

“FLAME ON.”

It goes on for a while, Anya screaming over the sound of the raging firestorm.

Two minutes later a stern looking Anya, with blackened face and hands, rejoins the gang- who are in retreat, back towards the water, behind her the door is still open, and on fire, the room beyond an inferno, a pall of black smoke snakes down the corridor towards them.

They make it back to the huge cavern with the pool of water in it, which they’ve already crossed on three occasions. The black smoke follows them, and then filters up- high into the chamber, filling the area with a dark fug.

They wait, and heal, Jim is soon back on his feet, and talking, his throat wound entirely gone, which doesn’t stop him from constantly rubbing the spot.

“There can’t be much more of this?” Anya asks.
“I hope not.” Cas adds.
“What do you make of them Kobolds?” Newt asks.
“I think everything in here is tainted, an abomination.” Jim replies.
“Why though?” Anya follows up.
To silence for a while.

“Whatever it is I aim to get to the bottom of it.” Cas states hands on hips doing his tea-pot impression.
“You can’t cure all Oerth’s ills.” Ala states.
“But I can’t ignore this… We can’t ignore this, there’s something unnatural about this place, alien- whatever it is that’s creating these abominations has a purpose, and I don’t believe for a second that it’s something good. They’re not the most hospitable of creatures, you saw how it affected the Ogre, the Kobolds- we need to find the source of this terror before it spreads.” Cas answers.
Silence takes grip again, the adventurers nod, Ala stares at Newt.

They’re there for four hours, polishing, sharpening, mumbling to each other, watching the black smoke continue to curl from the cavern and disappear high above.

Then they’re back to the once hedged chamber, and what a difference, the true extent of the room is revealed, it must be a hundred feet square, now the home of nothing more than burnt and blackened foliage, a pool of brackish water, and a small stone chamber in the centre- black from the inferno.

The pool of water holds no secrets.

The blackened room in the centre has a stone door on the far side, the group make ready, and whatever’s behind it must surely know they’re here.

Newt, after briefly examining the door, flings it open- Bec charges in smashes at…

A new type of Kobold, this one has an elongated neck, like a dragons neck, a snaking tail that curls and curves behind it, and is covered in thick armoured scales- like… a dragon.

The Kobold ducks Bec’s greatclub, easily. 

“Smidgin”, the creature cannot dodge Anya’s Magic Missile however, it steps back, there are stairs behind the creature, heading down.

Jim dodges in behind Bec, spots one of the crossbow bearing bird-like Kobolds from the inferno chamber, fires.

Fwong.

The Kobold flops backwards and tumbles down the stairs.

Two more rush up them, take aim at Jim.

Fwung.

The rear Kobold fires and takes out his comrade- oops.

CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

A frantic white mist shoots out of the Dragon-Kobolds maw, covering Bec in freezing ice, the mist clears- Bec shivers, Anya however is totally covered in the icey sheen, she topples backwards, frozen solid, onto the floor. Cas dives by Bec and slices at the creature- it’s too quick for him, it dodges back.

Ala dives into the chamber and is on all fours pouring healing energy into Anya, Newt follows her in.

Fwung.

And takes out a third Bird-Kobold complete with crossbow, another rushes in to fill the gap, they seem keen to defend the stairway down.

Bec shakes the ice from him, swings again; but the Dragon-Kobold ducks the blow.

Anya shakes her head, she’s coming round, she’s also being dragged out of the chamber by Ala.

Jim drops his bow and heaves his battleaxe at the final Bird-Kobold, smashing the creature back down the stairs.

Cas lances his longsword at the Dragon-Kobold, “Charge…”, the creature dodges in and slashes down hard knocking Cas’ sword from his hand, the blade skitters off down the stairs.

Newt moves backwards, out of the way of the beast, and-

FWUNG

Buries six inches of crossbow bolt into the creature.

Shadows coalesce around the Dragon-Kobold, the room spins, or at least the shadows seem to spin, Bec swings again- hits only shadow, Cas gets no further- hand over his eyes, the strobe of shadows blinds him- he staggers back. Jim clutches his temple, there’s something going on here, something very wrong- and bad, he staggers backwards. 

“AAA-BOMM-INN-AY-SHUN”

The Dragon-Kobold croaks and swings it’s battleaxe at Cas, it slices the air, inches from his head.

“Smidgin”

Another Magic Missile drills into the creature, it stands statue for a moment and then staggers and falls, clatters down the stone steps, coming to rest, neck broken, at the base of the stairs.

Anya’s silhouetted in the doorway, back on her feet, wand out- holding the pose.

“Come on”, Cas looks at Anya, “lets head down- we’re nearly there, I can feel it.”

They head down, Ala checking for wounds as they move off; she uses some of her minor healing skills.

Newt grabs several more of the three fingered pendants on the way, Ala stops to glare at him, he grins and shrugs back.

The stairs end in a door, their soon through it and into another corridor, a T-junction, the group head west, to yet another door. The area is silent.

Newt gets to work again, no traps, no locks, pushes it open- into a nightmare.

Before them is an enormous chamber, bathed in a sickly green light, around the chamber plant-like growths, pods- Kobold sized pods- like seed pods, only for the abominable creatures they’ve encountered so far.

Jim approaches one, touches its translucent skin, inside something bubbles, it’s alive- something moves within, the pod begins to peel back, open, a viscous liquid spills out, Jim dances back.

Within is a newly exposed Kobold, complete with Dragon-like features, just like the creature they encountered at the top of the stairs.

Jim looks back at the others, doesn’t ask permission, turns back and smashes his battleaxe into the newborn abomination.

The Kobolds eyes flutter open.

SQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

And then it expires.

Anya tugs at Jim’s sleeve, pulling him out of the way.

“Anya are you…” Cas starts, she points to the door, folds up the sleeve of her robe, she has the Wand of Burning Hands gripped tight in her hands.

“Get out.”

Jim, Bec, Ala and Newt head out.

Cas waits, “Are you sure? Do you want me to stay with…”

“Get out. Please.”

Cas, head down, leaves.

“FLAME ON.”

The roar of flames.

Outside the other members of the group listen to the rush of flame, and the scream of the yet unborn creatures, suddenly awakened from their slumber, dying- there must be hundreds of them.

Jim clamps his hands over his ears, squats down. Ala turns away- crying.

The flame comes again, and again.

As do the screams.

And again.

And again.

Relentless.

A good while later Anya steps out of the room, flames flicker behind her, not the conflagration of earlier, burnt and crisped bodies still smoulder on the floor behind her.

She shuts the door behind.

Cas reaches out to place his hand on her shoulder.

She shrugs it off.

“Whatever it is at the end of this, it’s going to suffer- promise me that.”

Cas nods.

“That’s what we’re here for.” Jim states plainly.

Newt tries not to meet anyone’s stare, especially Ala’s

Next Turn: The Bitter End.


----------



## Goonalan

I'm still frustrated with this story hour, if anyone has any clues as to how I can improve it then please don't hesitate to drop me a line, it could be so much better. I think it's partly because when I play this group they tend to skip back story and the roleplay which usually occurs during, and definitely between scenarios- they just want to get their dice rolling and get stuck in- obviously this makes character development incidental to the action (dice rolling).

Suggestions please...

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 22: The Bitter End

The group gather, Cas makes to mumble something uplifting, but Anya shrugs her way past to another door- Newt skips ahead of her, now all sweetness and light. Gets to work on the door- there’s nothing to be found.

“It can only get worse.” Anya motions for Cas to go past her, go on in.

Cas takes a breath, then flings the door open, onto a scene straight from Hell.

A large Altar, seemingly constructed from the still writhing bodies of creatures- Kobolds, Derro, other less distinguishable monsters. Either side of this are a pair of Candlestick holders, bearing enormous black candles. The Candlesticks are fashioned from still living, certainly able to feel pain- from there yelps, Kobolds. Candles emerge from the creature’s maws, which seem to have been wrenched open, broken, and left to set in this, most painful, position. They clutch a further pair of candles in there crucified outstretched arms.

The walls of the chamber pulse and beat, still-living skin, organs gurgle, veins throb, and bulges towards the adventurers.

And behind the Altar is another abomination- once Kobold, Lerrza, the High Priestess, is almost albino- he skin without pigment, a horny, boney emaciated horror. She stands behind the Altar staring at her foes.

“Tiiiimmmeee tooooo diiiiiiieeee.”

Delivered in a whisper, Lerrza turns slightly to reveal the source of the malediction, a second functioning Kobold face, in the back of her head.

Cas looks behind him, the more perceptive members note the colour has drained from his face. Through a bone-dry throat he screams.

“For Pelor.”

And charges forward, and where Cas leads, the others follow.

The Altar sprouts legs, and other limbs, shuffles forwards to meet them, it grows, arms to claw, heads to see- a living knot of inhumanity.

The Candlesticks hop forward, yelping as they spill burning wax on themselves- Hell’s coming.

Anya doesn’t even bother with a pose, “Smidgin.” A Magic Missile rushes through the chamber and thumps into the Kobold High Priestess.

The other attackers are intercepted en route to the Priestess by the moving scenery, they attempt to slash there way past the Altar and the Candlesticks.

Bec hefts his great club, smashes it down, and takes a chunk of flesh and limbs from the Altar. At the same time a white ray shoots out from the Kobold Priestesses fingertip, and bathes Anya, she’s caught mid-stride, she stiffens, paralyzed.

Jim creeps to a clear spot, bow still in hand, and fires- the Magic Arrow sings for a second and then thumps in the High Priestesses chest.

“Yooooooo willlll alllll meeeeeeeet thhhheeee maaaaaaasssstteer.”

The second head whispers, with volume.

Ala swings, an overhead blow, slashes down and slices the fleshy Altar- clean in two, limbs, heads, and torsos tumble out, a slick of blood forms.

Bec sees his opportunity and charges through the newly created gap- and is engulfed, momentarily, by a black mist; he emerges, a second later, heading back the way he came, his face a rictus grin, terrified- he bowls into Ala, knocking them both to the flesh-like ground, which lurches up to claw and grab at the pair. 

Bec crawls away as fast as he can, Ala wrenches herself free and staggers on towards the abomination.

Newt’s crossbow sings, it’s out of tune, as is Jim’s bow- bolt and arrow fly well wide of the High Priestess. Newt recovers, re-aims, and fires again- hits, but it’s just a scratch.

Lerrza spins around.

“DEATH TO LIFE.”

The second face screams.

The wave of sound crashes over the adventurers- Ala grabs her ears but stumbles on- towards the High Priest. Bec continues to crawl away from the fight, mumbling and fumbling for words. Cas’ ears bleed profusely, the Paladin stands statue still trying to shake the echo of the words from his brain, he stumbles then falls.

“CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS.”

Ala screams and launches a furious swipe at Lerrza, who chooses that moment to launch her own attack; Ala’s sword slices clean through the Kobold High Priestesses pallid neck.

Lerrza’s stands suddenly still, as if balancing something very delicate.

“Yoooo willll diiiiiiiie.”

She whispers.

“Not here though.” Ala answers.

She strides forward, kicks, nonchantly, the creature backwards. Lerrza’s head topples forward as the rest of her tumbles back.

The two Candlesticks prove to be less of a hindrance, even with the number of adventurers temporarily incapacitated. 

Wounds and injuries are tended to, Cas it seems was only momentarily stunned, Bec wanders back into the chamber- wondering what all the fuss was about, and looking a little sheepish, Anya’s paralysis lasts only a little longer, 

The High Priest has a number of useful scrolls which Ala identifies and stashes away for later use. The group retire leaving Anya alone for a while with the Wand of Burning Hands, with the usual flame-grilled results.

Outside the horrid chamber Ala continues to stare at Newt who shrinks under her gaze, the Goodman Gang’s purpose revealed.

Ten minutes later the group reassemble and head on, and this time pass by two side passages, Cas is in a rush it seems.

“Er… Cas?” Jim tries.
“It’s this way.” Cas points on.
“What is?” Jim enquires.
“The End.” Cas simply states.

Silence for a while, the passage ends in a t-junction, Cas looks left then right, heads right.

“What about the not leaving enemies behind you?” Jim tries again.
“It’s too late for that… Now come on.”

The passage turns north and ends in a door, which Cas flings open, into another chamber, eight pillars run floor to ceiling, in pairs towards a door at the far end of the chamber.

Five more of the Elite Kobold guards occupy the space immediately before them, the adventurers rush into the chamber.

“Come on, for Pelor.” Cas screams again.

“Smidgin.” A Magic Missile thumps into one of the creatures- dead. Newt fires, a bolt buries itself in the chest of another, which flops to the floor. Jim lets loose the Magic Arrow, it passes through a Kobold’s throat, that’s three down.

The other two Kobolds let loose with Heavy Crossbows, obviously already loaded, a bolt traces a red furrow down Cas’ leg, the other thumps into the centre of Bec’s chest, who topples backwards like a tree being felled.

There’s a sudden movement ahead of the adventurers, at the far door, approximately fifty feet away, another group of Elite Kobolds appears, two dash off, one left, one right- towards the nearest pillars. They blink out of view.

And reappear, step from the nearest two pillars to the doorway through which the adventurers entered.

They fire their heavy crossbows, a bolt sails wide of Jim, the other clunks into Anya’s skull, she drops to all fours, and then further down, onto the cold stone floor.

“KILL THEM.”

Cas snarls, and launches himself forward in to one of the Kobold Elite, cuts the creature down with a single blow, almost severing the things arm.

Kobolds dodge towards the pillars, blink out of existence, only to appear in convenient positions, and yet their missile attacks prove to be ineffective.

The adventurers edge further into the chamber, abandoning Anya and Bec, who’re still down on the floor, for the moment.

Jim manages to tag another of the creatures; his arrow spins the Elite Kobold around, before it drops dead.

And then Jim proves his point, at a cost.

A Dragon Kobold lurches into the chamber, from behind the adventurers, and liberally covers Newt and Jim in a cloud of freezing ice crystals, they both stagger, but remain upright, just.

Newt quick draws a healing draught and glugs it down.

Jim abandon’s his bow in a kamikaze charge, draws his axe, and in the process knocks Newt to his knees, the agile Ranger follows Newt down, lands hard and remains sprawled on the floor- out cold.

Ala is hit in the back by a crossbow bolt, she struggles to grasp behind her, remove the bolt, stumbles, and, like Jim, clutches the ground

Which leaves Newt and Cas still standing, with five Elite Kobold’s and a Dragon Kobold menacing the pair.

Cas strides forward and is surrounded by four Elite Kobolds, he manages to fend them off, if only for a moment.

Newt flings a flask of Alchemist’s Fire, which explodes on impact with the stone floor, forces the cold using Dragon Kobold back out of the pillared chamber, a crossbow bolt passes over the Gnome’s shoulder.

Cas swings wildly, a Kobold steps in, cuts him along his arm, and then Cas’ attack unfolds, another cuts him along the back of his thigh, yet another at his ankle, and the last, more serious, across the forehead. He wavers, but grips tight to his sword.

Newt takes up his crossbow, and in one swift move- fires, the Elite Kobold facing him slumps down dead. The Gnome rushes over to Anya, scrambles for a Healing Potion and then jams the bottle in Anya’s jaws- it drains. She opens her eyes.

Cas holds the furious four Elite Kobolds off for a while longer, no new cuts and bruises in the action.

Anya levers herself upright, “Akkat”, sets Swish before her, to guard her, while she re-orientates herself.

The Dragon Kobold leaps back into the chamber; the Alchemist Fire has burned itself out, Newt fires, instinct, but misses by a mile. The creature rushes at the Gnome, smashes into him, knocking him tumbling back. Newt lands by Jim, clutches another Potion of Healing which he passes to Jim, who’s just coming round, the Ranger gulps the healing liquid down.

“Pelor save me…”

Cas mumbles as he continues to fend off the ferocious creatures, his energies return as his prayer is answered, cuts and bruises miraculously healed, and in the same instant he finds himself in an even worse situation. An Elite Kobold connects with a low blow, striking and slicing into both of the Paladin’s legs. Another cuts him across the chest, yet another almost removes the pinky finger from his shield hand. He’s barely standing.

Newt scrambles up again, fires, the bolt passes just inches away from the Dragon Kobold’s face.

“Smidgin.” Anya’s back on form, the Magic Missile slams into the Dragon Kobold, the creature staggers backwards, on its last legs.

Jim sees an opportunity and charges into melee with the creature, metal meets metal, but no new hits are scored.

Cas meanwhile slices down one of the Kobolds he is facing, and then, for good measure, is cut down himself- the Paladin tumbles forward, unmoving. The Elite Kobolds, now sans enemy, rush towards the nearest pillars.

Newt fires but misses badly. Anya does not suffer from the same malaise, “Smidgin”, the Magic Missile thumps into the Dragon Kobold which tumbles backwards- dead.

The three teleporting, for that is what the pillars do, Elite Kobolds blink back into view, one behind Jim, who takes a blow to his right-hand side, winces but fights on. The other two appear behind Newt, who takes two raking blows to his back and shoulder; he staggers forwards, then turns to confront his new foes.

The Elite Kobolds follow up, slashing and smashing, but Newt is far too quick for them, he fends off a blow with his heavy mace, which he now clutches in hand.

“Smidgin.” Anya’s Magic Missile kills one of Newt’s attackers.

The other exchanges blows, snarling, with the Gnome Rogue.

“Smidgin.” And then it’s no more, which only leaves two Elite Kobolds, one backing away- towards the far door, the other fighting Jim, who, for his sins, receives another wound.

Newt scrambles for his crossbow, clutches it, but too slow- “Smidgin”, the Elite Kobold facing Jim slumps to the floor.

The last makes it back to the far door, flings it open and is about to rush through.

“Smidgin”, nothing happens, the wand is spent.

Thwung

But Newts crossbow bolt merely dents the wall.

The creature escapes with his life, for now.

Jim makes to run forward but Anya grabs him, slows his charge, she looks around them, at their fallen comrades, an unspoken signal.

The three still standing tend as best they can to the wounded. Bec is just stunned, no more, once again though he has proven to be the weakest link, or so he thinks- he has a long face. Ala too is quickly revived; it’s Cas that is the furthest gone, although a pair of healing potions soon do the job.

The limping sextet wend their way back to the stairs, it’s judged to be the safest place to defend at present. They make camp on a rough stone landing, ensure the door is shut in the chamber above, and trapped courtesy of Jim and Newt, they’ll know if something’s coming, they repeat the trick with the lower portal- they’re safe, or so they think.

They set a watch rota, two awake at any one time, they decide on twelve hours rest, the last push- the end must surely be in sight.

“I hate this place.” Anya offers.
She holds Cas’ glare.
“Me too.” Jim confirms.
“Sandwich?” Bec scratches his head.
“Come on, it isn’t too bad.” Cas states.
“I hate you.” Ala seethes staring at the Paladin.
“What? Ala?” Cas is up and moving towards her.
She’s up and backing away.
“It’s all your fault, we should have just gone back when we killed the Ogre, this place… this place, it’s… It’s hell.”
Cas puts his hands out- towards Ala, “We have to do this. It’s what we do- it’s right.”
“I know what’s right, don’t preach to me. We’ve been stuck down here for four days now, four days since we’ve seen the surface, felt the breeze, the trees, animals, plants- life, not these twisted abominations. I hate it down here, and I hate you for bringing me here. And you…”, she turns to Newt, “I hate most of all, your nasty and spiteful- don’t think I haven’t seen you when you’re supposed to be on guard, or asleep, creeping around, always looking- your pockets jangling full of our treasure- you’re nothing but a common Thief”, the last part of the sentence is spat out, in Newt’s face.

Silence.

Slowly the Gnomes features stretch into a smile.

“That’s right. I’m a Thief- maybe not so common, but I’ll let that pass. But here’s the thing Lady Luck, I know what I’m here for, I know what I want… Now tell me that don’t piss you off to high heaven.” He grins.
“Newt.” Cas warns.

And Ala crumples, where she stands, and sobs.
Cas bends to comfort her, places his hand gently upon her shoulder.

“LEAVE ME…” She screams.

Cas gingerly stands, forlorn, moves away.

“Get some sleep, I’ll take first shift”, he stutters.

Ala continues to sob.

Anya snakes out her hand, grasps Jim’s hand, holds on tight, they share a look.

And in the corner Bec sees this, and head down, sucks in air- silently seething, pressing down the Rage inside of him.

Next Turn: Bobby Ewing.


----------



## Pedestrian

Goonalan said:
			
		

> I'm still frustrated with this story hour, if anyone has any clues as to how I can improve it then please don't hesitate to drop me a line, it could be so much better. I think it's partly because when I play this group they tend to skip back story and the roleplay which usually occurs during, and definitely between scenarios- they just want to get their dice rolling and get stuck in- obviously this makes character development incidental to the action (dice rolling).
> 
> Suggestions please...




Can't make any suggestions Goonalan, beyond the simple proof-reading stuff. I think this an excellent story hour, and I am very much enjoying the struggles of these nascent heroes.

The pacing is nice and quick, you don't dwell over-long on ornate prose, which matches a dash through the dungeons. The character exposition is well done, worked into the plot, and again appropriate for high action fantasy.

You note in the above that you've got to flesh out a lot of that characterisation yourself. Perhaps that is what is frustrating you? I've written a few Story Hours myself, and if that is the case, I wouldn't sweat it. However, perhaps switching to a more "reporting" style of writing would help?


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Goonalan said:
			
		

> I'm still frustrated with this story hour, if anyone has any clues as to how I can improve it then please don't hesitate to drop me a line, it could be so much better. I think it's partly because when I play this group they tend to skip back story and the roleplay which usually occurs during, and definitely between scenarios- they just want to get their dice rolling and get stuck in- obviously this makes character development incidental to the action (dice rolling).
> 
> Suggestions please...




To be honest, I think you're being a bit hard on yourself. I'm certainly enjoying the storyhour as it is. (But maybe I'm just easy to please.    )

As regards the players' behaviour, I think it's understandable, both OOC and IC, that when the action's on, they focus on that. Just like a football team will focus on the game when they're on the pitch, and leave the inter-personal stuff in the dressing room (except in the case of Kieron Dyer and Lee Bowyer, obviously   ). And I see nothing wrong with the storyhour mirroring that.

The only way I can suggest to inter-mix things a bit more is if some of the "roleplaying" - even if it take splace between adventures - can be written up as if it occurs during breaks within the action - when the party's resting etc. But that depends on the type of interaction concerned - it could probably be done with PC to PC conversations, but not with conversations with NPCs who aren't there. Maybe some could be done with "flashback" type handling - "While they sat staring into the campfire, Newt wondered whether he should really have ..." That sort of thing.

Anyway, as Loup says, I don't think much really needs fixing at all. Just keep it coming.


----------



## Goonalan

Thanks, to both of you- much appreciated.

The problem with the roleplaying between scenarios is that... well, it doesn't exist. There's very little except shopping lists to fill, it's hard for us all to get together and so when we get a session organised, once a month- twice if we're very lucky, then the players want to dive into the next scenario with the minimum fuss. There's time for a little back-story and then it's sword and spell time.

I'll press on, the stuff that you're reading now is from a while back, I keep good notes though, the SH so far posted represents less than a quarter of the action. The present posts are from the second Goodman Games scenario, the players (note I didn't say characters) are just finishing their ninth Goodman Games scenario- there's lots more of this to come.

Thanks again.

It's good to talk.


----------



## Dr Simon

Out of interest, what are the other Goodman adventures that they've been on?


----------



## Goonalan

List so far is-

Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 
Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters

Dungeon Crawl Classic #14
Dungeon Interludes
Chapter 1: The Eye of the Night
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4- except the Water Elemental)

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5

Dungeon Crawl Classic #14
Dungeon Interludes
Part 2: The Defiled Sanctuary
Level 3-5

Dungeon Crawl Classic #28
Into the Wilds
Level 1-3 (Scaled to lvl 4)

Dungeon Crawl Classic #17
Legacy of the Dragon Kings
Level 4-6

It probably averages out at 2 game sessions per scenario. As you can no doubt work out I don't give out a lot of XP along the way, the highest level character is level 4 at present.

I've got-

Dungeon Crawl Classic #26
The Scaly God
Level 4-6

Ready to run next.

Thanks


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 23: Bobby Ewing.

Bec stands statue-still, smoke fills his vision, he moves forward cautiously, opens his mouth to speak, something makes him stop.

“Where?”

He mumbles to himself.

His vision clears slowly; he’s on a cobbled street, a long way away… He’s home- way back home, Grimbo, the town he was born in, grew up in- before he ran away.

Coming up the hill towards him is his best friend, Hovis Presley, except there’s something odd about him; he’s shorter, and younger, maybe only six years old.

Bec looks down, he’s six too.

Ohhh- he thinks.

He waits for Hovis to get level with him and then waves furiously, rushes out to meet him, and passes straight through the spirit. Hovis doesn’t register a thing- marches on, down the hill.

Bec stands still for a second and then swipes at himself, his hand passes through his spectral form.

Confusing.

He shrugs, and follows his friend, all the way down the street to Hovis’ fathers shop, to the Hovis Bakery at the bottom of the hill; then quickly nips in through an open side door, which Hovis locks behind him with his key. 

Bec strides into the Hovis Bakery’s floury heart.

Men and women mix, kneed and fold; ovens fume- it’s a production line and it smells like heaven.

He passes on, follows Hovis through into a smaller chamber, men and women make pies, and pastries, and slices, and turnovers, and… with cream, and icing, and jam, and jelly- a fug of icing sugar fills the air.

Bec stands tongue out tasting the sweet air.

He grins.

Then gingerly reaches out for an egg custard, his hand passes clean through the dessert.

He shrugs again and presses on into the front of the store, the shop itself, he stands behind the counter, open mouthed.

On the other side of the counter is Anya, a fully… erm developed Anya.

Naked.

Except for the cream.

And icing.

And one, two… three cherries.

She leans forwards to talk to him, he can see her… Bec blushes furiously, turns away, and locks eyes on his friend Hovis Presley again, who doesn’t look away.

“Go on then… Serve her.” Hovis states.

Bec gulps, “What can I get you Anya, I mean Miss?” He enquires.

She moves right up close, her face in his, her breath on his cheek.

“Can I have a sandwich?” She states in breathy whisper.

And then everything begins to fade.

Bec tries desperately to force his way back into the sugar spun dream, thinks about good things; Anya, sandwiches in rows and rows, the sweet chocolate and cream taste of profiteroles, the moment he heard his father was dead, back to Anya and her hand on his arm, walking back to the Tetknee to re-supply, his hand reaching up to grab her neck, to strangle her…

NO.

And he’s back in the bakery.

And Anya’s passing him one of her cherries.

The one on the right.

From the top.

It’s covered in cream.

He opens his mouth.

And wakes.

He’s on guard duty, still stuck on the stair, Newt’s who should also be on duty lies at his feet, his eyes twitch and blink- he’s dreaming, Bec thinks.

And puts his tongue away.

And shuts his mouth.

And grins some more.

He looks around- they’re all asleep, all dreaming, eyes fluttering in the half-dark.

Bec smiles, his stomach growls- he’s hungry, he reaches over towards Anya, pulls her cloak over her, then settles back to keep watch.

“Anya.”

He whispers.

The sleeping form stirs a moment, smiles a little, and then heads back into the unknown.

Cas shakes violently, it passes.

The other sleepers, one-by-one, follow suit.

Bec snores.

Cas stands again in the pillared Temple, the one with the frescoes they passed through earlier.

A noise.

Louder.

A rumble constructed from deep guttural snarls and shouts. The door bursts open and Kobolds, and worse, tumble out- all manner of vile abominations, clawed, winged, beaked, taloned, a mish-mash of unholy fiends.

They rush towards him, his blade sings.

And then Ala is by his side, sword drawn.

And then Jim, bow at full extension, arrow notched.

And then Bec, hefting his great club, slapping it into the open palm of his hand.

And then Newt, swiftly slotting a bolt into his crossbow.

And then Anya, who turns to smile at him, and then extends her arm to reveal a wand.

The Kobold Abominations hit them.

And fire, and metal, and wood, and steel strike.

And nothing

The tide is gone.

And yet the noise…

The noise continues.

Cas turns to look behind him, the foul abominations have passed through them, moved on.

Darkness for a second, and then the sudden feeling of weightlessness, he passes through rock and earth and stone, and out, and up. 

He floats high above the cavern entrance, the way into this hell.

Below him the hills and forests, the meadows and streams of Lincornshire.

He can see Tetknee.

And the black tide approaching it.

Watches as another tide of foul creature’s spills from the cavern entrance far below, head off towards...

And then another.

And then another.

Until he’s past counting.

Too many.

Darkness for a second, and then he’s back in the Temple.

And the blinding light of Pelor engulfs him. 

He falls to one knee, head down, eyes up, trying to catch a glimpse, but he’s blinded by the light.

He feels the sun on his back, his forehead, his face, inside of him, filling his whole being.

A flood of light, of warmth.

Unbidden he stands, looks up, and straight ahead, into the eyes of his maker.

“End it.” Pelor winks.

And then is gone.

Cas wakes.

As do the others.

Anya with the tender caress of her fallen mother’s lips still imprinted on her cheek, the press of her hands, still warm, holding her, cradling her.

Newt with the crinkled feel of gold and jewels, the pucker marks still apparent on his flesh, from his bed of treasure and precious things.

Ala with the parting words of the strange woman she met in the woods, in her dream, still ringing in her ears.

“Stop asking who you are, and start being who you are, you’re stronger, by far, than you, or they, think.”

Ala smiles.

Jim with cool breeze of home on his back, the sweat of honest toil on his brow, and the memory of straw in his hair, his mother’s voice, echoing, calling him in for supper, his fathers arm around his shoulders, around his brothers shoulders- how it used to be.

Bec with his hands clutched around an invisible sandwich taking huge bites, wiping the crumbs away from his mouth.

The adventures look around them, awakened.

They know now what will happen if they fail.

They know what their reward will be.

That life will go, as normal, and they’ll be there to see it.

WHUMP

The door flies open and an enraged Derro, one of the maddened, grizzled, evil Dwarves stands silhouetted in the doorway.

The creature gibbers, squawks and rages, foams at the moth, a collar around its neck.

“Who let the dogs out?”

Newt enquires.

FWUNG

The crossbow trap, set earlier by Jim and Newt, fires- misses.

A second Derro, similarly affected lurches into the chamber.

And there endeth the third session of play in this scenario.

Everyone is now up to level two, I’ll post the stats a little later, they’ve not gained there skills, spells, or special abilities yet- that comes with training.

Next Turn: Grind Finale.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 24: Grind Finale

The adventures are quickly up and in a line at the top of the stairs, blocking the way, exactly as seen in Cas’ dream.

Newt and Jim fire.

But to no great effect- neither of the Derro are hit.

“Flame On.”

FWOOOOOOOM

And the stairs are full of fire- the Derro crisped, charred and very dead.

The adventurers stand about, grinning.

“Well, no time like the present.” Ala gathers up her gear.

The others do likewise.

It’s time to finish this.

Ala finds herself standing next to Newt, she puts out an arm, onto the Gnome’s shoulder, Newt stops, looks up.

“I’m…” She manages.

The bows her head.

“Yeah, so am I… this place.” The Gnome looks around, “It’s… I dunno.” He shivers.

And that’s what passes for a settling of their differences, for now.

The Gang head off, check out the three possible exits they, actually Cas, marched them past yesterday- empty rooms, nothing worth reporting.

It’s day six, the final day, tomorrow they’ll rest, today they’ll fight.

Through the teleporting pillared chamber, and on.

Newt checks the door ahead, nods once- it’s clear.

Cas flings it open.

They goggle at what lies beyond.

Cas flings the door shut again.

“So the room is somehow magically full of blood.” Cas starts.
“Yep, and there seems to be a number of Kobold abominations, heavily armed over the far side of the chamber, somehow floating on the blood tide.” Ala adds.
“Furthermore did you notice the Kobolds this time more resembled the High Priestess, albino, scaled, very Dragon-like.” Newt continues.
“And the one at the very back was obviously their leader, even more Dragon-like, a White Dragon at that, we should expect a cold welcome.” Anya grins.
“I’ll wear my mittens.” Jim finishes and unslings his bow.
“Exactly.” Cas chucks the Ranger on the arm.
“They have the terrain on their side. Answer- don’t go in there.” Cas finishes.
Ala nods, as do the others when they work it out, Bec looks despondent, he’s got nothing to fire or throw.

Thirty seconds later the door is once again flung open.

“SANDWICH.”

Bec gets to order the attack.

Cas launches sunrod after sunrod into the chamber, they offer a brief, but startling, at least for the Kobolds, all six of them, illumination.

Jim’s Magic Arrow sails into the chamber, catches one of the Elite Kobolds within off guard, the creature gurgles and sinks beneath the bloody waves.

Newt’s bolt, poisoned- one of half-a-dozen he recovered from the Derro earlier, and meant for the leader type, alas sails wide. As does Ala’s arrow. 

“Smidgin.” Anya’s onto her second wand, another of the Elite Kobolds sinks forever.

Thwung.

A Kobold manages to fire his crossbow, the bolt whistles down the narrow corridor and lodges in Anya’s arm- she grits her teeth and fights on.

Baraz, the Barbarian Half-Dragon Kobold Abomination, quickly realises this is not working, his plan is failing, he must protect his master at all costs.

The stumpy winged Barbarian, the most ferocious, vicious, and above all, cunning, of his kind launches himself into the air, and dives forwards into the tunnel entrance, bringing with him a stinging blizzard of frost breath.

Jim, Newt, Anya and Ala are caught in the cold, but shrug it off.

“SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND WICH.” Bec states.

The group of adventurers, in unison, shuffle back- further away from the bloody chamber, and Baraz.

“SANDWICH.”

Bec orders.

Jim’s arrow catches Baraz on the shoulder, digs in, blood trickles down. Newt and Ala’s shots sail high and wide.

“FLAME ON.”

Anya screams and the corridor is bathed in fire.

Engulfing Baraz, who sizzles slightly as he strides forward, the damn bursts, Baraz Rages and launches himself forward towards his prey.

“SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND WICH.”

Bec orders, the group shuffle back again, trying to keep pace with the onrushing Barbarian.

But too late, for Jim, he’s raked across his chest- blood gushes out.

He manages to scramble back again, out of the creatures reach.

“FLAME ON.”

A second fan of fire engulfs Baraz.

And yet the creature dashes on.

Bec lurches through the ranks, great club in hand, ready to meet the creatures charge.

Baraz smashes into the giant man, sinks his claws several inches in to the Barbarians chest, and rips free a hunk of flesh.

Bec barely moans, pushes the creature away from him, and punches with his great club- jabs the thing, hard, into the Kobolds face.

Bone splinters and breaks, fragments of his skull lance into his brain, Baraz is no more.

The Abomination flops to the ground.

“Good man.” Cas pats Bec on the arm, as three more of the Elite Kobolds scramble into the corridor ahead. 

“Unfinished business.”

Newt steps by them, aims and fires, sinks a crossbow bolt into a Kobold’s skull.

“For CAAAAAAAS.”

Bec grins and lopes off towards the new intruders, one of the creatures panics, drops his sword, and is crushed, in passing, by the giant Barbarian’s great club. The other faces off with Bec, and lasts less than ten seconds. 

His job done, Bec ambles back to the group.

“Can I have Sandwich? Please? Or a cake- something creamy…”
“Not long now.” Ala grins back.
“With a cherry on top.” Bec finishes.

The adventurers gingerly approach the bloody chamber, which proves to be a pain to cross. A bloody tide swells and gathers at the far side, then rushes to their end of the chamber.

“If we time it right.” Anya offers, and then shrugs.

Before they attempt the crossing Anya lets loose with a Detect Magic and discovers another Healing Potion, and the fact that Baraz’s Chain Shirt is magical- they take them both.

And on into the horrid chamber.

Anya, Newt and Jim are caught in the bloody wave, the latter because he’s bobbing about trying to spot his Magic Arrow, the others get through with ease. It takes a good while but, now the threat has gone, they all get through unharmed, eventually. Jim sans arrow- it’s lost forever.

They readjust their kit, and then pass on into another huge, and almost empty, chamber.

There are no other obvious exits, the place is well lit, and all there is to see is a plain and seemingly unadorned Altar in the centre of the chamber, and a wooden store cupboard on the western wall,

How odd.

At least that’s all Jim, Newt and Anya see.

For the others, well… that’s a different matter.

Cas, Ala and Bec have a different vision.

Straight from Hell.

Again.

Basalt rock extends to the horizon, there’s no ceiling only the night sky, which is less crowded than they remembered, a single pale star glints in the heavens, casting a pallid glow over the proceedings.

And in the centre of the chamber is a fleshy globe of lashing body parts, mouths mark the surface, they moan and scream.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP

The globe breaks and spills open, flopping body parts writhe and wriggle; blood, guts and ooze is flung far and wide.

And from the twisted wreck of frenzied flesh strides Tsathzar-Rho, in whose Lost Vault they now stand.

The demonic-looking creature has green scaled skin; a bird like head attached to an overly long neck; awkward, bent legs and two taloned arms that seem to stretch undulate and flow.

Tsathzar-Rho moves towards them, with purpose- their destruction, as it closes they begin to make out the finer details. The creatures organs flop and slap against its skin, they’re on the outside, or are at least for a moment, before being absorbed back into its scaly form, only to be expelled again- second later. The cycle continues.

Tsathzar-Rho is truly revolting.

“PELLLLLLLLLLLLLORR.”

Cas charges.

“CORRRRRRREELLLLLLAAAAAAN.”

Ala follows.

Bec stumbles forward, as if in a trance.

The others stand stock still- look desperately about them.

“Where are they going?” Jim offers.
Newt shrugs, scans ahead- there’s nothing to see.
“What’s going on here? What do you see?” Anya shouts at the back of her charging companions.

Tsathzar-Rho taloned arms snake out to meet the holy duo, Cas ducks, Ala is not so lucky, a bloody trail marks its passing.

Cas’ longsword bites, slices through the creatures side, muck and gunk fly out.

Ala spins away from the creatures taloned arm, her longsword comes full circle, and digs deep into the creatures frame.

“SQWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.”

The creature screams.

“What was that?” Anya asks.
“I didn’t hear anything.” Jim coolly states.
Newt shakes his head.

Tsathzar-Rho turns his rent side away from his attackers, in the same instant his beaked maw smashes into Ala and rips a chunk of flesh, the size of a fist, from her shoulder- reveals the chipped bone beneath.

Its head snakes up, and gulps the bloody gobbet down.

Ala screams and staggers backwards, barely conscious.

“What the…” Jim offers, having just witnessed much of Ala’s shoulder suddenly disappear.

“A DEMON.”

Cas screams.

“It’s an illusion.” Anya states.

And so it is.

Anya and Newt see it all, they rush towards the terrifying vision.

Jim stand statue, “Hey, where are you going? What’s there?” The last innocent.

“I AM TSATHZR-RHO, I HAVE SLEPT FOR CENTURIES, BUT NOW I AM BACK, IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO SLEEP. EMBRACE THE DARKNESS, FOR DARKNESS AND CHAOS IS ALL THERE IS…”

The voice ancient, unhurried, and yet provoked.

It’s inside their heads, blocking out everything else.

Except for Jim.

“You guys, what’s going on- is this some kind of joke?”

Next Turn: Grand Finale, Part Two- Jim’s Surprise Party.


----------



## Abciximab

I agree with the others, I think your being a little hard on yourself. I'm enjoying two of your story hours (lost boys) and I like that they are both very different from one another both in player ability and actions and in tone. The other makes me laugh a little more, but I like the gameplay elements that come through with the experienced group as well. Hope to see more from both.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Goonalan said:
			
		

> I'll press on, the stuff that you're reading now is from a while back, I keep good notes though, the SH so far posted represents less than a quarter of the action. The present posts are from the second Goodman Games scenario, the players (note I didn't say characters) are just finishing their ninth Goodman Games scenario- there's lots more of this to come.




Glad to hear it.


----------



## Goonalan

I think you're all mad, but I thank you kindly for your comments. I'm going to try something a little different when I get to the end of the turns I've already written up- which coincides with the end of the next adventure (not this one).

Anyway, more of the same...

And thanks again.

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Turn 25: Grand Finale, Part Two- Jim’s Surprise Party.

Newt dashes forward towards the horrendous beast, crossbow in hand, crouches and settles for a second, stares again at the poison bolt he has loaded.

FWUNG

A direct hit, the bolt buries itself in the creature’s chest.

“KWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…”

Tsathzar-Rho screams as the poison ravages him, staggers, and yet remains standing. The creature lashes out a taloned arm at Ala, she ducks the blow, and skitters out of the creatures reach.

She pumps healing energies into herself, she grimaces as her shoulder mends, then straightens- ready to rejoin the fight.

“Smidgin.”

Anya’s wand sings; the Magic Missile however barely leaves a mark on the creature.

Cas slashes at the creatures clawed foot, scores a direct hit, leaving a bloody trail of his swords passing, the creature hops backwards slightly.

“SAAAAAAND WICH.”

Bec shakes his head, swats invisible flies, then storms forward and delivers a devastating two-handed blow, with all his might.

Right to the back of Ala’s head.

The Cleric slumps to the ground, blood pouring from the rent in the back of her skull.

“What the…”

Jim sees this, rushes over, and launches himself at Bec. The giant man backs off and drops to a fighting stance.

“BEC. BEC. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU’VE KILLED HER.”

But there’s no one home.

Bec swings again, Jim dodges aside at the last second.

“Akkat”, Anya points Swish at Bec, the broom hops over to attack- with its usual lack of effect. Anya coats herself in her Mage Armour, shimmers in the lone-starlight.

Thwung

Newt’s crossbow bolt sails well wide of the Abomination, although it only misses Cas by inches, he gulps and makes a mental note to aim better next time.

“Calm down Bec… Calm down.” Jim offers.
His words seem to have an immediate effect, Bec lowers his great club.
“Give me the club… Come on, you don’t want to hurt anyone else.”
Bec, as meek as a lamb now, hands the weapon over.

Tsathzar-Rho lashes out but Cas meets the creatures attacks with his shield and sword, deflects both blows aside.

Bec knocks Swish aside, the broom skitters a good fifteen feet away, then hops up and heads on back to the fray.

Anya bends down over the fallen Ala, pours two healing potions into the stricken Cleric, she coughs and splutters, then opens her eyes.

“What happened?”
“Later.” Anya states.

Cas slashes again, catches Tsathzar-Rho’s leg again, only a small cut this time but enough to make the creature back away further.

“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.”

Bec screams and forearm smashes Jim, who staggers backwards, but quickly recovers his senses, rushes back in, grapples Bec, as best he can, which turns out to be badly. Jim changes tack, releases his grip, and shuffles back, swings his right foot hard- up into Bec’s cobblers.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.”

The big guy staggers backwards, clutching at the affected area.

“I want this all to stop, you’re frightening me. Stop it.” Jim splutters.

CLAAAAAAAW

“KWAR.”

Cas is sliced across his chest, Tsathzar-Rho chirrups and grins.

“Sooooooon be overrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”

It’s voice in Cas’ brain.
Fwung.

“Damn.” Newt reloads, another miss.

Ala levers herself to her feet, Anya’s moved on, she mumbles a prayer and lo and behold- her sword glows and pulses, becomes, temporarily, a Magic Weapon. She shuffles forward, dragging her longsword behind her- it’s heavy and she’s weak still.

“FLAME ON.”

Anya has run around to the rear of the creature, she sends a gout of flame into the beasts back.

“KWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.”

It screams as its flesh chars and cinders.

“SANDwich.”

Bec forgets his hurt, turns tail, and staggers away from all the confusion- further into the massive chamber, punch-drunk, he trips on. Jim follows, cautious.

“Bec. BEC. What is it?”

Bec continues wandering.

One of Tsathzar-Rho’s clawed arms lashes out, smashes into Ala’s forehead, cuts it wide-open, blood cascades down her face, in her eyes, nose and mouth.

“You bastard.” She staggers back, catches herself and surges forward again.

Cas darts in, swings high, wide and handsome- spots Ala out of the corner of his eye.

“Ala?”

Fwung.

Another bolt sails wide.

“Feck.”

Newt drops his crossbow, useless bloody thing; quick draws his heavy mace and charges into the melee.

Tsathzar-Rho lashes again at Cas, the attack is deflected by his shield- which is starting to get very heavy in his hands; it’s second attack misses Ala, but Ala doesn’t miss it- slashes with all her might and takes the last six inches or so off one of the creatures incredibly flexible taloned arms.

“KWAAAAAAA.”

It hauls in the damaged limb.

Tsathzar-Rho realises then that the battle is lost, and so launches itself forward again, abandoning defence for all out fury.

“WHAT IS IT? WHAT’S GOING ON? WHAT DO YOU SEE?”

Jim screams at Bec, exasperated.

The giant man turns to face Jim, gibbers, looks away, then back again to the centre of the chamber where the hellish abomination makes its last stand.

Bec points.

Jim turns to look- and sees for the first time the real chamber.

“What…”

He manages, then.

“Come on.”

The Ranger grabs hold of Bec’s leather jerkin and drags him along.

“AAAAAAAAAAArrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
“AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhh.

Bec imitates.

Newt stands before the creature as it flails and smashes- in frenzy, waves his mace ineffectively, swishes once, and then faced with nowhere else to go rolls straight through the creature’s legs, and emerges unscathed.

Tsathzar-Rho’s elongated neck snakes down to follow the Gnomes path, intent on taking a bite out of the unarmoured combatant.

SNICK.

Ala cuts clean through the Abominations neck, the creature’s head flops onto the ground, the body is wracked by a St. Vitus dance, then rushes head long forward, smashing past Ala and Cas, cannons into a wall, staggers left and continues to smash its way around the chamber, careening off walls.

Ala drops her sword. Cas rushes to her.

“You... I want a word with…”

She points at Bec, who looks suitably ashamed- cringes, scared, then Ala fades and falls… into Cas’ arms.
The Outer Realm, the home of Tsathzar-Rho, fades away, and thirty seconds later they’re back in an emptyish room, save the black unadorned Altar, and the store cupboard- not a sign of their passing, or the final battle with the Abomination, Tsathzar-Rho, the creature simply fades from sight.

There’s a ring, and several potion flasks in the storage cupboard- all of which detect as magical, and a small, but ultimately valuable, supply of silver, gold, diamond and mithril dust.

Two hours later the group emerges back into the light, it’s raining, and head back to Tetknee.

“I love the rain, don’t you?”
Cas nods, and kisses Ala.

Bec, rushes forward to the divine duo, he has something in his hand, he puts his head down- proffers his gift, a bunch of wild flowers, Ala takes them and smiles at the huge Barbarian.

“I know you didn’t mean it.”

She squeezes his hand, and then walks on with Cas, who smiles back at Bec.

Jim, Anya and Newt catch up with Bec.

“So what you gonna do with your share of the money?” Jim asks.
“Sandwich.”
Newt smiles, Anya giggles.
“For Anya.” Bec finishes.
Anya reddens.

The six head home.

Next Turn: Review.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #2
The Lost Vault of Tsathzar Rho
An Adventure for First Level Characters​
Overall score out of 10: 5.3
Play time: Approx 12 bloody hours.

Review:

Less liked than the first scenario, this one hung in there, forever laying one or another of the party members low, it became a war of attrition very quickly in the second session of play. It also became necessary for me to adjust the damage done by all of the Kobolds, the scenario quotes damage stats for medium weapons instead of small weapons, which the Kobolds should be wielding. The problem is, what with the Kobold’s high AC, the best fighter in the party has only a 25% chance of hitting, this chance is reduced to, on average, 15% for the other party members. The Kobolds have a similar chance of hitting the PCs, and there are lots of them, and there are other monsters with better chances to hit.

The players commented on conclusion that it would have taken perhaps two sessions tops to play through the scenario, and would encourage much more open play, if the Kobold’s stat blocks had been left alone, at least have done with the AC 19 Footmen which made up a majority of their adversaries.

The overall scenario, asks more questions than it answers, particularly of the DM- see below. That said the finale proved, for its chaotic conclusion, to be almost worth the wait. 

Notes and Quotes:

The Ogre proved a fair start, and from the outset demonstrated to the players their ability, like Mr. R. said in the last scenario, sort of- when you know what’s ahead it’s lots easier, and thus it proved to be for the Ogre- dead in two rounds.

The passage from the Ogres cave into the Vault of Tsathzar-Rho was expected, at least something was bound to be there, after all I hadn’t encouraged the players to put away the Take Away food menus.

All players expressed their preference for Stirges, they had indeed felt cheated that Stirges didn’t play a part in their first adventure.

They also liked the way up into the scenario, the climb, an entrance into the unknown that takes effort to get too, not often do you get this at lower level.

The initial contact with the Kobolds was equally terrifying and exciting- particularly as Mr. W. (Newt) was on his own at the time, perhaps the first time ever he was glad to see Mr. R. (Cas).

Mr. W. (Newt)- “I’m sorry, I said I was sorry… now get up here.”
Mr. R. (Cas) just sits there grinning, a smile you want to punch.

Likewise the trek into the river cavern leading to the party split was most enjoyable; all the fighters running off to leave a first level Rogue, Magic User and Cleric facing off against four Dire Rats and six heavily armoured Kobolds, it felt like adventuring. This mirrored by the warriors own calumny- fighting half-a-dozen more Kobolds, and the Kobold Wizard, complete with Magic Missile Wand and Burning Hands spell, which resulted in just Bec left standing. It felt like heaven to this lowly DM, every dice roll monitored, and not just by the roller, players screaming at each other-

Mrs. R. (Ala)- “Shut up, and just bloody hit it.”

That kind of thing- good work, I really thought at this point it was going to be a cracker.

This of course lead to the first marital tiff, Mrs R. (Ala) enquiring of Mr. R. (Cas).

Mrs. R. (Ala)- “What the bloody hell do you think you were doing running off?”
Mr. R. (Cas)- “I…”

Particularly amusing, the Paladin getting told off, scratch that, scolded, by the Cleric- like a naughty schoolboy. 

And so the adventurers make it to the river, after first looting the Kobold Wizard and getting away with a new Wand of Magic Missiles for Miss P. (Anya), and a Pearl of Power I (Anya, again), and Bracers of Armour +1 (Bec).

Newt had also been robbing the remainder of the party blind at this point with the three-fingered pendants- good work.

And so the first session ended with high hopes.

The second session starts ok; they all see the logic of the return to Tetknee for supplies, after Cas has explained it to them.

The destruction of the Fire Beetles, six in total, was easy, more of a distraction- and good solid first level dungeon fodder. The Darkmantle was also an enjoyable encounter, if only for Miss E.’s (Bec) natural ‘20’. The fighting milk-maid dollies wouldn’t go away for a while, mainly because of their hardness and the difficulty of the environment.

The session then went from okay to stuffed, very quickly, they liked the Giant Spider, they stopped liking it however when Cas got bitten to buggery and ended up with a Strength score of around ‘7’, but I guess that’s there look out.

This lead on to them landing on the Undead side of the street, the Ghoul proved good fun, particularly when they decided to use Newt as live bait, actually I think he suggested it.

The graveyard area likewise proved to be a good fight; that is until they started to count the cost- the hits they’d taken in making the place into their new lair, the spells, and Turning attempts they’d expended in the effort. 

A rest stop was inevitable, as I’ve said about first level characters, one bad fight, or even two fair ones, with some bad dice rolls and your scuppered for a while.

Mr. R. liked his Magic Sword though.

Rested they returned, and kicked ass, only to be laid low again. Two dozen Kobolds may not seem like much of a fight but wrap them in mail and give them crossbows, and good pluses to hit and they all become potential death traps. I understand it’s not meant to be easy, but at first level it’s hard to make a grind like this sustainable, and yet here we are. So the majority of the session was spent in a dice rolling fury, admittedly this was teaching some of my players a useful lesson, again.

As Mr. R. also said last time, you leave your best stuff/moves for the big bad guy at the end- which results in players being insulted by being held to a draw, almost, by a bunch of lowly Kobolds, while all the time trying not to expend their favourite one-shots. Miss. P. however was going through her Magic Missile Wand at one charge per round, every round.

So they kicked some ass.

Then met up with the Derro and their poisoned crossbow bolts- result two dead Derro but also Cas back on Strength ‘8’, Bec on a little more, and Ala hovering on 1 HP, and most of the others still wounded- and two of them holding out on the Healing Potions, particularly Mr. W. (Newt) who had four of them stashed away.

Result- they go back to bed for a day, the second session draws to a close and they’re liking the scenario less and less. 

It needs to be said that I made a judgement call in letting the players remain holed up in the hidden graveyard because-

1.	It was hidden, and hard to get to.
2.	The Kobolds were without leadership- uncoordinated.
3.	The Kobolds do not stray from their positions.
4.	The Kobolds feared the Undead that occupied this section, and avoided it.
5.	The Kobolds don’t have any more rafts.

This however allowed the PCs to correctly presume that this area was safe, and therefore allow them to get through the rest of the scenario knowing that they had somewhere to run and hide in.

On to the third session, which started out as fun but drifted into another heavy dice rolling session. 

And so like professionals they adapt to survive, they’re ready for the Kobolds this time around, Bec Rages, Newt flings Thunderstones, Ala summons a Badger (which only slows things down but hey-ho). They rip through the first set of Kobolds.

And then Miss E. (Bec) does a runner, which is what he always does when his Rage is still going- looking for something else to smash.

This led to another fight with a Kobold Wizard, his guards, and a bunch of Elite Kobolds, which would have been more fun if the Kobolds had been something less Koboldy, although their look had changed they remained the same one hit to kill bad guys. Thus the only dice roll that mattered was the To Hit roll, there was no sense of it being a big fight- not enough leader types, the two wizards encountered so far rocked, they both hung around. In between times it was very short rounds, five people roll to hit, missile or melee, maybe one or two succeed, Anya shoots one dead with her wand. If a Kobold hits it does approx two points of damage- there wasn’t the same feeling of danger being generated. This may, once again, have been down to the parties head on approach but circumstances also worked against them at times.

This was also the start of the shadows, and random Will saves for the players, this an effect of the scenario, the growing terror- which, the saves which served to slow down play a little more, were almost always passed- inevitably the only time the players rolled anything good, anything that was guaranteed to hit the Kobolds.

Miss P. (Anya) is also quids in again with the Spellbook, and another Wand, this time of Burning Hands.

They press on to the Lemure’s, and they’re more like it, the sense of danger is palpable, particularly as the players get to exchange blows with the creatures, simply put- they stick around for a little while.

The chamber with the Portals to the Elemental Planes received a mixed reaction, some players felt it epitomised all that is bad about the ‘old school’ scenarios, they want to believe that this sort of sophisticated magic awaits them at later levels, yes it was just a trap, but it was all a bit too much like the scenario was trying to do everything- throw the kitchen-sink at them. It was also the time that Miss E. (Bec) failed her saving throw with the lowest number on the die, which led to the invention of the toasted cheese sandwich- so at least some good came of it.

If Bec hadn’t have failed his save then they would have worked their way around the possible traps, probably without injury, by using the Kobold notes provided, and, of course, Miss P. (Anya) ends up with the Necklace of Fireballs.

Then they rest up again- undisturbed.

I thought I was going to enjoy the attack of the Bird Kobolds but the Burning Hands Wand soon put paid to my fun, particularly galling as I’d just got a nice critical on Mr. A. (Jim).

And then the Dragonkin Kobold on the stairs down- lovely, it put up a fight, why not have weaker Kobolds throughout and more boss type creatures, with more Hit Points.

That said they loved the Pod room, and torching it, a ‘that’s why we’re here’ moment.

Likewise the Kobold High Priestess’ fleshy chamber went down well, once again the fact that the Kobold Priestess was a major enemy was much appreciated- the player’s sense of achievement-ometer went up several notches. Ala’s coming good, the critical certainly left a smile on everyone’s face, except perhaps Miss E. (Bec), who once again fell foul of her terrible Saving Throw (Will -1).

The next fight went better for me, the Teleportation pillars were, as the players said later, ‘cheesy’, but they didn’t half shake them up, particularly when the second Dragonkin Kobold appeared behind them; Mr. A. (Jim) was right.

I’d also planted some seeds here, notes had been passed throughout the game, and e-mails sent out of game- Mrs. R. (Ala) was starting to crack- parts of the scenario’s plan were at least working. The scenario calls for a sense of paranoia, which wasn’t really getting through to the players. I’d primed Bec, Newt and Ala earlier and they’d got some nice role-playing in- setting up divisions within the party. The problem was the endless supply of Kobolds which produced long sessions of dice-rolling.

However this was the first time the group had elected to sleep in the spooky part of the scenario- and thus the dream sequence, the Gods intervene and send them a renewed sense of hope, and a Bless spell.

A little late in the day perhaps, they were all but finished, then again that’s probably the best time to do it.

And so the third session came to a close, and with the players feeling happier for the extra Hit Points and improved To Hit that comes at Level 2.

The fourth, and final, session started well with the slaying of the maddened Derro, this time Newt remembered about the crossbows and located some poisoned bolts- which would prove to be worth their weight in gold later.

The water room, sorry- blood tide chamber, was a bit too silly, and easily overcome- don’t go in there, shoot them. The Kobolds lead by a no-brain Barbarian fell into the players trap, and were destroyed, although Baraz, the leader, got in some good hits.

Which leaves the climax, which was either great or terrible, depending on which player you ask.

Mr. R. (Cas)- “Loved it.”
Mrs. R. (Ala)- “Same.”
Miss P. (Anya)- “Good-ish.”
Mr. W. (Newt)- “I hit once, when it mattered, and then never again- bloody dice.”
Miss E. (Bec)- “Oh great, I brained Ala.”
Mr. A. (Jim)- “Rubbish, I didn’t even get to see it until is was all over.”

And so Jim who passed his Will saving throw every time didn’t actually see what was going on in the room until it was all over. Cas and Ala on the other hand were in the mix from the very beginning, and Ala’s critical proved to be a fitting ending, particularly as she’d been brained by Bec- who didn’t enjoy the finale at all, for obvious reasons. Newt’s poisoned crossbow bolt reduced Tsathzar-Rho’s Strength score to ‘9’, without any Secondary Poison Damage being rolled, so it could have been worse. This reduced the creatures To Hit pluses dramatically making its death inevitable. Still that falls under the category of good play.

Overall there were some good bits however, the two trap rooms at the end, Teleporting Pillars and the Blood Tide were deemed silly, just plain daft, reminiscent of some of the bad dungeon features of 1st edition. Which is of course what the designer/writer was aiming for, probably. The Kobolds were a little too difficult, and felt unsatisfactory, particularly as there were so many of them. That said the leader types were always fun. 

Perhaps my players are just whingers, perhaps I am too, regardless the scenario became repetitive in the middle section- and took too long to complete.

Next Turn: Grimbo


----------



## Goonalan

Turn 26: Grimbo.

Tetknee proves to be a disappointment, sure they get a couple of days bed rest but how much more is there to do in a one-horse village, with one pub, and a church devoted to some ‘Green Man’ Oerth Father/Mother, have you seen the size of my marrow, type deity, and little else. They adventurers have already received their reward, and the fact that an encampment of Abominations had settled on the doorstep of the small village is kept a secret.

The Goodman Gang soon grow tired of Tetknee and hop a cart into the bright lights and big city of Grimbo.

Grimbo, for the uninitiated is, well for the uninitiated it’s a death trap, with a smiling gap-toothed face and breath that stinks of fish stew, sick and booze. Obviously it has its chattering classes, but these are vastly outnumbered by the thousands that earn their daily wage in some sort, actually any sort, of nefarious, illegal, illicit, or just plain shameful trade.

On the North-East coast of the United Kingdoms Grimbo sits, or rather squats, home to nearly seven thousand lost souls, a fishing port, yeah right… like the only thing that arrives on boats are fish. Grimbo is a smuggler’s port, a fence’s port, a drunkard’s port, a pirate’s port, a fornicator’s port, a… and all the rest. It is in short the home to a very extreme, sometimes blunt, sometimes pointy, form of capitalism. You want it- I got it- you pay, or, I want it- you got it- you die; that kind of thing.

You can buy anything with gold here, including an early grave. 

And so look out Grimbo, here come the Goodman Gang.

“Passport?” The gate guard wanders over to Cas, “Passport?”
“What?”
“Passport? Have you got your Passport?”
Cas shrugs turns to Ala, and the others.
“I’m sorry.”
“You not got your Passport?” The gate guard leers.
“I don’t seem to…” Cas starts.
“What Passport?” Anya enquires.
“Y’needs a Passport these days- Council orders, every citizen, tell who’s bad from good- see.” The guard gets out a stub of a pencil and fragment of parchment, stares at the assembled adventurers.

“Well?”
“We don’t seem to have any Passports?”
“WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEwwwwwwwwwwwwww.” The gate guard sucks in air.

“Is there anything you can do?” Cas enquires.

Fifteen minutes later they’re at the head of the queue.

A different gate guard stands before them, although he looks familiar.

“Gate Tax, five silver each.”

He takes the proffered money, and shoves them on.

They’ve gone twenty or so feet when Cas comes to a dead halt, he turns back.

“I say, don’t you want to see our Passports?”
“What?”
“Our Passports, we paid three gold coins each for them, actually we pick them up from the Passport Office tomorrow morning, I’m to tell you this… I’ve got it all written down.”
Cas fumbles for his piece of paper.

The guard wanders over.

“Give me that.” He grabs the paper from Cas’ hand. 

Then laughs- straight from the belly.

“What’d he look like, the guy that sold you these Passports?”

The others, now interested, wander over.

“Actually, he looked a lot like you.”

The guard laughs again.

“Well you don’t need no Passport, me Lord, you’ve been had.”
“What?”
“Duped. Now get back in there before I make you pay again.” The gate guard points into the city.
“You can’t… hang on you know who this man is don’t you?” Cas states.
“So…”
“So I want you to arrest him.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“Oh I do”, Cas looks for a rank on the gate guard- finds none, “soldier, I want him arrested now.”
“I don’t think you do- for two reasons.
	One- you said he looks like me, well he would do- he’s my brother.
	Two- he’s also my boss, in fact he’s the head of the whole bloody watch.
Now are you going to go in or…”

The Paladin and the others quick foot it into the city.

“Well you showed him there.” Jim offers.

Cas and Ala​
Grimbo is also home to the second largest Church of Pelor in the whole of Lincornshire, the largest Church of Pelor, actually a Cathedral, is in Lincorn itself. 

Cas soon finds his way to the Church, and with Ala in tow- the two are staying together, sharing a room if you will, at the Wellow Inn, the Innkeeper Malchor makes them feel at home- Mr. & Mrs. Smith indeed, in Gleethorpe, or as it’s known to the locals, Meggies. Gleethorpe is an addendum to Grimbo, a small village that has grown up just outside of the sprawl of Grimbo- a home to the thinkers and dreamers, it even has a shoddy little beach- complete with fun fair, market- mostly costly tat and vegetables, and donkey-rides up and down the sands, about 400 yards in total for a gold-a-go.

Anyway, the Church of Pelor, St. Jimbo’s, is overseen by Father Whiskin, a friendly old Dwarf. Cas has a story to tell, so he tells it, Ala adds details of their second adventure- Father Whiskin doesn’t doubt their tale for a second, “Chaos and Evil is on the up-and-up”, is how he puts it, “you only have to go out at night to see that.”

“So is there anything we can do?” Cas finishes.
“Not really.” Is the short answer, Father Whiskin will however stay in touch.

They conclude their business at the Church, Cas donates half his earnings to date- so much for the Full Plate then, and the pair head back into the city to see the sights.

Father Whiskin, for his part, has also agreed to straighten things out at the Seminary in Lincorn, the one that Cas did a bunk from to be with Ala, and Ogre-shaped danger, or so it seems.

It is also agreed that Cas will complete his training at the Church, for which he pays a further sum of money, and that the Church will supply discounted Potions of Healing, should Cas, or Ala for that matter, need them on any further adventures.

Anya & Newt​
Anya and Newt take a detour, once they’ve established themselves; they’re staying at the Wheatsheaf Inn, on Bargate, in Grimbo itself, although it’s in the nicer part of city. The pair enrol on short courses in basic alchemy, they also get access to the labs at Grimbo College, or GC for short, situated in an old Nunnery just a little way up the road from their Inn.  

Once there Anya also gains access to the Department of Magic’s, run by Nudge Toombs, a balding Gnome of very senior years, her Mage training will be completed here, all for a price of course.

Newt has to look slightly further afield, actually across the road, to Nunsthorpe, an area within Grimbo known for its violence, thievery and rough justice- the Nunny, as its known, is also home to the largest and best organised Thieves Guild in Grimbo, known as- The Nunny, funnily enough, whose members are called Munties, or Townies, or, very simply, Chavs- the latter usually applied to the better dressed, and infinitely more violent, members of the organisation. Newt soon finds a friend.

“Yer not frum arownd ear, r u boy?” 
“Firstly, I’m not a boy, I’m a Gnome, secondly- no, I’m not from around here, which is obvious to anyone with the slightest bit of intelligence, for I am not a bandy legged, gap-toothed goon with a penchant for misery and murder.”

Time passes, then the Townie, gets it- he’s been insulted.

“Hey… yew wanna watch wha yer sayin, else yule see my blayd.”
“Really… I’ll raise your blade for my Bec.”
“Sandwich.” Bec hoves into view, catches the Townie in one great hand, and picks him up, shakes him a little.
“Now put him down please Bec. Sorry about that, now… The Nunny, where can I find them?”
“You’ve found them.”

Several hours later Newt is buying everybody drinks in a basement bar in a deserted looking house in Nunsthorpe, Bec has gone to find Jim, he’s served his purpose- money talks it seems.

By the end of the evening deals have been done and Newt is enrolled on another course- Thievery 102. He’s also paid his guild dues for the next year, or thereabouts- he’s in good books. He also gains access to other resources, not the least of which is information, although also included are friendly fences, moneychangers, reduced rate potion vendors and other services.

Bec​
Bec meets Wally, Wally runs a pub in Meggies called, “The Swashbuckle”, which is a spit and sawdust style establishment. Wally is also a retired adventurer, a Barbarian to boot; Bec takes employment, briefly, at the place- it serves as payment for his Barbarian training, which consists of lots of nothing with brief bursts of extreme violence.

“So ya wanna be a Barbarian?” Wally asks.
Bec nods.
“You’d have to be a… thingy… you know… short of a picnic to do that.”
“Sandwich.” Bec states.
“That’s it- you’re in.” Wally finishes.

Jim & Ala​
Meet up early on in their stay in Grimbo and head out of the city, only a few miles, to the village of Great Coats, a small Elven contingent lingers there, which includes a Chapel devoted to Correllan, led by Matriach Parkerts. Great Coats is also home to a unit of mixed race Rangers which train in Weelsby and Bradley Woods, a specialised unit of the Lincorn Militia, simply known as “The Backwoodsmen.” Needless to say the two sort out their training.

In conclusion​
Time passes much more slowly, the players establish themselves in their various residences, complete training, do a lot of buying and selling; they catch up with each other every now and then.

One such night finds them in the restaurant of the Wellow Inn, named after the ancient, well… Well, a little away from the Inn- which dates back to the original founding of the village of Gleethorpe, before it was surrounded by the sprawl of Grimbo.

The food is good, way better than anything Newt, Bec and Jim have ever tasted, they’re all on best behaviour. Malchor, the Innkeeper, stands in the background, proud of his table.

“So I asked you to join us tonight”, Cas makes eyes at Ala, who blushes a little, “because it seems we may have another job here.”
“What’s it about?” Newt asks, trying to poke his little finger out while he totes his spoon, slurps soup.
“Well, ah hah hah… that’s a joke.” Cas smiles, Ala forces a grin.
“Whaff?” Jim asks mouth stuffed with bread.
“You mean the robberies.” Anya states.
“Yes?” Cas replies.
“I’ve heard the story, there’s supposed to be something down the Well not so far from here, something that emerges at night, or at least some nights, to steal and kill.” Anya concludes and finishes her soup, “a little too salty, but not bad.”
Cas nods.

And then a vision of loveliness floats towards their table, Lady Arabella, twenty years of age, and a stunning beauty, if a little dim.

“Arabella.” Cas rises, bows and mid-way is embraced- warmly.
Ala stares daggers.

The table rearranges itself, Jim tries desperately to straighten his shirt, it’s not been ironed. Newt grins. Bec eats on- fairly oblivious, grabs at and takes Cas’ bread roll, and gulps it down in one mouthful. Anya watches Bec but pays no heed. A seventh chair is brought up by the waiting staff and Lady Arabella is made comfortable next to Cas.

She rests her hand on the Paladin’s thigh.

“Well this is a treat.” She begins.
“Cazzy- who are all these, lovely, people?”
“I’m Newt my Lady.” Newt kisses the proffered hand. 
“Oh lovely, are you a Dwarf?” She giggles.
“A Gnome.” Newt thumps down into his chair, swigs from his wine.
“Oh how lovely.” She turns to Cas, “They’re pretty much the same thing aren’t they Cazzy?” 
Cas looks elsewhere.
“I’m J… J… J… Ji… Ji… Ji…JiJiJiJiJIM.” Jim spits, “Me La… La…LAYdee.”
Jim sits back down, catching the edge of the table cloth and tipping the remains of his soup into his lap.
“Oh quickly.” Arabella grabs a cloth and dabs the spill- Jim alternatively grins and grimaces- thirty seconds later he’s relaxed and smoking a cigarette.
“And you’re a what?” Arabella asks.
“I’m a human.” Jim states, confident, almost certain.
“No silly- what are you; I’d guess you’re a wizard?”
“No, I’m a woodsman, a Ranger lady, I don’t mean a Ranger lady, I mean I’m a Ranger, lady. I’m a man. Not a lady. And a Ranger lady. I mean…”
“Oh.” Arabella shakes then sniffs her hand, her smile slipping, settles for wiping her hand on a cloth.
“That’s nice. And you- you’re an Elf aren’t you, I can tell, do you know how I know?” Arabella turns to Ala.
“No, I can’t wait- I’m all ears.” Ala monotones back.
“It’s your ears silly.” Arabella reaches out to grab one of Ala’s ears- to give it a playful tug.
SLAP
Ala has other thoughts, slaps Arabella’s hand away.
“Sorry. I was trying to get the salt.” Ala grins.
Lady Arabella cradles her reddening hand, shakes it- lifeless.
“Cassy.” She grabs for the Paladin, hooks one arm around his shoulders, the other dangles before the Paladin’s face.
“Kissy Wissy Cassy Wassy.”
The Paladin puckers up, staring hard at Ala, kisses the proffered hand.
“That’s better. And what are you- oh I do like your jewellery, very… ethnic.”
Arabella is staring at Ala’s silver-moon holy symbol of Correllon.
“I’m a Priestess of Correllon, the Keeper and Maker of the Elves, the Divine Storyteller, the…” But she gets no further.
“Oh that’s lovely, simply lovely… How nice, and you?” Arabella stares at Bec.
Who seems to see her for the first time, he’s on his fifth bread roll.

Bec looks non-plussed at the proffered hand.

“Can I have Sandwich?”

Bec delicately splits a roll and encloses Arabella’s hand in the now buttered halves- grabs and brings the newly created sandwich towards his mouth.

Arabella shrieks a little and withdraws her buttered hand smartly from the bun.

Bec bites down, chews, oblivious- mouth open, he tries to smile and masticate- it doesn’t look good.

“My word.” Arabella wipes her hand.
“Er that’s Bec, he’s the muscle.”
“And what muscle.” Arabella smooths a hand up and down Bec’s forearm.
Bec grins and chews on.

“And I’m Anya Lady Arabella, the Wizard, we’re all so very pleased to meet you. Now, and I’m guessing here- so help me out if you can, I’m guessing it’s you that wants us to head down the well.”

Arabella looks shocked.

“My word- you are a brainy one aren’t you. Still you can’t have everything, that’s what my dear father used to say.”

It goes silent for a while.

“Go on, the job?” Anya sighs.
“Oh yes. Well since I’m now the Council member for Gleethorpe…”

Several members of the Goodman Gang swallow hard.

“You’re a Council member?” Anya asks.
“Oh yes, ever since Daddy died- he was very popular. Anyway there have been some terrible happenings around the area, near the Inn, and I was thinking that something should be done about it- so I went to the Council to see whose responsibility it is… And you’ll never guess what they said?”
“Yours.” Anya states.

“Oh, Pelor be blessed, you have got a lot of brains. Yes, that’s right- so I thought what should I do, and for a while I couldn’t think of anything… and then, well”, Lady Arabella stares up at Cas, flutters her eyelashes, and heaves her ample bosom, “then I saw Cassy.”
“Good old Cassy.” Ala cheers.
“Well yes, and I thought he’d know what to do.”
Cas smiles, awkwardly, as Lady Arabella rubs herself against him, oblivious to the looks of other members of the party.

“May I be excused?” Ala doesn’t wait for an answer, and is gone, Cas pleading with his eyes, but too late.

“And so”, Cas straightens, levering Lady Arabella away a little, “and so it’s up to us to head below and try to find the source of this violence… Excuse me.” 
Cas gets up and swiftly follows Ala from the restaurant, and to their room, he’s late for a argument.

“Oh.” Lady Arabella looks a little forlorn.

“We’ll do it.” Newt offers his hand, Arabella shakes it slightly unsure, still looking around for Cassy.

Newt moves Arabella round so that she has Bec to lean on, the Gnome places her hand on Bec’s thigh; think corded muscle, deeply tanned, and as hard as a rock. 

Bec chews on, oblivious.

“Now let’s talk money.” Newt enquires.

Some time later a fee is agreed, a thousand gold coins will be paid for the end of the terror, Newt concludes the deal.

Malchor, the Innkeeper, waves them goodnight, they’re the last of the late drinkers in the bar, sighs and sets to cleaning up the mess they’ve left behind, and no tip.

Next Turn: Who’s who?


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Nice (well actually vaguely disgusting in certain places) interlude.   

And that Grimbo sounds a lovely place ...


----------



## Goonalan

And that Grimbo sounds a lovely place ... 

Tell me about it, I live there... I mean here. The campaign locale is a modified version of Lincolnshire, my home county, I've adapted the place names slightly- I particularly like some of the names in the area- Goole has become Ghoul, you can guess what lives there; and further afield, the Isle of Wight becomes... well, the Isle of Wights. 

I'll post the map when I get it scanned in right, see Google Maps here for the source- 

http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?ie=UTF8&hl=en&q=&ll=53.590875,-0.31311&spn=0.725441,1.829224&z=9&om=1

Cheers


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​
Turn 27: Who’s who?

“Jim” Bowen​
Human Male Ranger Level 2 
NG HP 23 AC 18 Init +2
Str 14 Dex 15 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 12 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +6 Ref +4 Will +2
+1 Battleaxe (family heirloom) +5 d8+3 
Longbow (Masterwork Mighty (+2)) +5 d8+2 or Rapid Fire +3/+3
Dagger, Silver +4 or +4 d4+2
Armour: Griffin insignia Masterwork Breastplate and Light Wooden Shield.

Feats: Skill Focus (Trapmaking), Point Blank Shot, Track, Favoured Enemy- Dire Animals, Ranger Two-Weapon Fighting & Ambidexterity, Rapid Shot. 

Skills of note: Animal Empathy +4 Climb +4 Craft (Trapmaking) +6 Handle Animal +4 Hide +6 Jump +5 Knowldege (Nature) +3 Listen +4 Move Silently +6 Spot +3 Wilderness Lore +6

Items of note: Potion Cure Lt x4; Potion Darkvision; Cloak of Resistance +1.

Bec​
Human Male Barbarian Level 2
CG HP 31 AC 15 Init +1
Str 18 Dex 12 Con 18 Int 11 Wis 8 Ch 9 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +1 Will -1
Long Spear +6 d8+6  
Dagger +6 or +3 d4+4
Greatclub +6 d10+6
Longsword Masterwork +7 d8+4 (usually with Large Wooden Shield)
Greatsword Masterwork Cold Iron +7 2d6+6
Armour: Studded Leather Masterwork, sometimes Large Wooden Shield.

Feats: Toughness, Power Attack, Rage, Cleave & Uncanny Dodge.

Skills of note: Climb +9 Concentration +4 Jump +8 Ride +3 Spot +3 Swim +8 Use Rope +4

Items of note: Climbers Kit, Potion Cure Lt x4, Potion Blur, Bracers of Armour +1.

Lord Casimir​
Human Male Paladin of Pelor Level 2 
LG HP 23 AC 17 Init +1
Str 15 Dex 13 Con 14 Int 14 Wis 11 Ch 14 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +3 Will +4
+1 Longsword Cold Iron +5 d8+3 
Longbow +3 d8 
Light Mace +4 d6+2
Armour: Shiny Breastplate & Sparkling Light Steel Shield

Feats: Negotiator, Dodge, Mobility, Detect Evil, Lay on Hands, Divine Health, Smite Evil, Aura of Courage.

Skills of note: Concentration +3 Diplomacy +9 Handle Animal +6 Knowledge (History) +5 Knowledge (Local) +7 Knowledge (Religion) +6 Ride +5 Sense Motive +6 Spot +4 

Items of note: 3 Flasks of Holy Water, 5 Silver Arrows, Potion of Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion of Vision.

Anya’Drea​
Human Female Wizard Level 2 
CG HP 14 AC 14 Init +5
Str 10 Dex 13 Con 12 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 17 
Saves Fort +1 Ref +1 Will +3
Quarterstaff Masterwork +2 d6 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +3 d8
Dagger Silver +1 or +2 d4
Armour: Leather Armour, Ring of Protection +1 

Feats: Skill Focus (Use Magic Device), Armour Proficiency (Light), Improved Initiative, Scribe Scroll, Toughness. 

Skills of note: Alchemy +5 Appraise +3 Bluff +3 Concentrate +6 Craft (Model) +3 Decipher Script +7 Diplomacy +3 Disguise +3 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +5 Intimidate +3 Knowledge (Arcane) +8 Knowledge (Architecture & Engineering) +4 Knowledge (Geography) +4 Knowledge (Nature) +4 Listen +4 Move Silently +3 Perform (Vogue) +3 Scry +5 Search +3 Spellcraft +8 Use Magic Device +10

Familiar, actually Follower (of sorts) Swish, Animated Broom.

Spells: 	Lvl 0 (4) All; 
Lvl 1 (4) Shield, Mage Armour, Mount, Dummon Monster I, Unseen Servant, Detect Secret Doors, Detect Undead, Identify, Magic Missile, Colour Spray, Cause Fear, Expeditious Retreat, Shocking Grasp, Spider Climb.

Items of note: Scrolls- lots of them, Wand of Burning Hands (Level 3- 29 Charges); Potion Cure Lt. x4, Potion of Intelligence, Pearl of Power (lvl 1), Necklace of Fireballs Type I, 2 Bags of Caltrops; 6 Tindertwigs, 10 Sunrods.

“Swish” Animated Broom companion AC15 Mv30 Init+2 +1 Slam d4 Hardness 5 Fort +0 Ref +2 Will -5

Newt​
Gnome Male Rogue Level 2
NG HP 15 AC 19 Init +3
Str 11 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +2 Ref +6 Will +2
Heavy Mace Masterwork +3 d6 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +6 d6 
Dagger Silver +2 or +5 d3
Armour: +1 Chain Shirt

Feats: Nimble Fingers, Low Light Vision, +1 To Hit vs. Goblinoids and Kobolds, +4 Dodge vs. Giants, Point Blank Shot, Evasion.

Skills of note: Alchemy +10 Appraise +5 Balance +7 Climb +4 Craft (Locksmith) +5 Decipher Script +5 Disable Device +10 Escape Artist +4 Forgery +3 Hide +10 Intimidate +3 Jump +5 (+35 with Ring of Jumping) Listen +7 Move Silently +8 Open Lock +10 Pick Pocket +4 Read Lips +5 Ride (Pony) +3 Scry +3 Search +8 Spot +5 Tumble +4 Use Rope +3

Spells: Ghost Sound, Dancing Lights, Prestidigitation & Speak with Burrowing Animals.

Items of note: Silk Climbing Rope, 10 Tindertwigs, 3 Thunderstones, 2 Tanglefoot bags, 10 Sunrods, 2 Smoke Sticks, 5 Alchemist’s Fire, Thieves Tools Masterwork, 5 Poison tipped Bolts, 10 Silver tipped Bolts, 20 Masterwork Bolts, 3 Flasks of Acid, Potion Cure Lt x5, Potion Spider Climb x2, Ring of Jumping.

Ala​
Elf Female Cleric Level 2 
NG HP 17 AC 18 Init +3
Str 14 Dex 17 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 17 Ch 13 
Saves Fort +4 Ref +3 Will +6
Longsword Masterwork Cold Iron +5 d8+2
Composite Longbow Masterwork Mighty (+2) +5 d8+2
Dagger Silver +3 or +4 d4+2
Light Flail +3 d6+2 
Armour: Chain Shirt & Light Steel Shield

Feats: Point Blank Shot, Weapon Focus (Longsword), Turn Undead (4/day).

Skills of note: Balance +3 Concentration +3 Diplomacy +3 Escape Artist +3 Heal +7 Hide +3 Listen +5 Move Silently +3 Ride (Horse) +3 Sense Motive +3 Spot +5 Use Rope +3 Wilderness Lore +3

Spells: Lvl 0 (4) Lvl 1 (4)
Domains: War & Good.

Items of note: 2 Healer’s Kits, Scroll Protection from Elements, Potion Cure Light Wounds x4, Scroll Hold Person & Deeper Darkness.

Next Turn: Well… Well.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Goonalan said:
			
		

> Goole has become Ghoul, you can guess what lives there; and further afield, the Isle of Wight becomes... well, the Isle of Wights.




I like it. And as a native, I can confirm that Berkshire is indeed full of berks.

Actually, along these lines Liver-pool sounds as if it could be a fairly unpleasant place.  :\


----------



## Dr Simon

Goonalan said:
			
		

> Tell me about it, I live there... I mean here. The campaign locale is a modified version of Lincolnshire, my home county, I've adapted the place names slightly- I particularly like some of the names in the area- Goole has become Ghoul, you can guess what lives there; and further afield, the Isle of Wight becomes... well, the Isle of Wights.




It reminds me of 'Riddley Walker' by Russel Hoban, which is set in a sort of post-apocalypse Kent where Faversham has become 'Father's Ham', Ramsgate 'Ram's Gut' and so on.

I've run Dragonfiend Pact myself, so I'll be watching this one with interest.


----------



## Goonalan

I'll post the map next week of the locale, I've started to do one of the UK, Berkshire becomes simply Berks, the inhabitants of which are hulking brutes of limited thought capacity. In fact a Berks Barbarian, or Berkzerker, as they're more commonly known, is truly to be feared, although fazed by very simple mechanisms and tools- for example, a spoon.

Thanks, as always, for the feedback, and so- here we go again.

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​
Turn 28: Well… Well.

And so two days later, fully equipped, the adventurers huddle around the Well, looking down.

“Dark.” Jim’s on fine form.
“Come on then.” Cas proclaims, grabs a rope and ties it around Newt’s waist.
The pair complete their task and the Gnome climbs up and over- he’s lowered down.

Ala stands a little way apart, staring hard at Cas, sorry Cassy, still not speaking to him.

“There’s a door, hang on.”

Newt shouts back, his sunrod flaring in the confines of the well shaft, an obvious secret door, slightly ajar in the side of the well some sixty or so feet down.

The shaft descends further into a pool, who knows how deep, of inky black water.

“Swing the rope.”

Up top Jim, Cas and Bec do as they’re told.

Newt scrabbles forward on his strange trapeze, garbs hold of the stone door, and with great effort wrenches it fully open.

“There’s a secret passage. Swing again.”

And thirty seconds later Newt is in to the corridor beyond the door, he has a quick look, there’s nothing to be seen, although the passage seems to open out into a larger chamber a little way ahead.

A secured rope soon runs from the Well above to the secret passage below.

Bec- the heaviest, and also, probably, the best climber, is the first to test the way.

SPLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH

“Ooops.”

The giant man plummets past the opening, checks how deep the water is.

“BEC.” From above.
“You alright?” Newt from the open doorway.

Bec surfaces, grins, spits out water.

“Sandwich.”

He smiles.

A shadow, something long and thin, detaches itself from the wall behind him, and slips silently into the water.

Jim follows Bec down the rope as the soaked Barbarian bobs up and down, now illuminated by another sunrod.

The Ranger reaches the passageway safely, uncoils another rope and throws it down for Bec to grab.

Ten seconds later Jim and Newt begin to haul him out.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSNAP

A water snake, a Viper, no more than three feet long takes a chunk out of the Barbarian’s backside- he gurns a second, still clutching the rope, and then lets go- falls back down into the water.

Beneath the surface Bec thrashes and grabs hold of the slippery thing- grips it in his huge hands.

SNAP

The Viper takes another bite out of him.

BLBBLLLUBBLUUBBL.

Bec screams, and releases the snake, which swims away into the dark water.

Bec surfaces again, spluttering.

“SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYKKKK.”

The Barbarian thrashes the water, grabs at the rope, above Jim and Newt heave-ho.

Bec is half out of the water, he’s heavy.

SNAP

And bitten again.

He kicks his legs and screams; the water around him turns to foam.

“SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYKKKK.”

But fails to dislodge the creature which coils around his leg and slithers up his body.

“PULLLLLL.”

Jim screams as Bec jolts upwards, scraping against the wall of the Well- the snake still attached to him.

SNAP.

The Viper takes another mouthful of Barbarian flesh, this time from the chest, its poison takes hold, Bec feels himself getting weaker, the strength being sapped from his hands, his grip weakening…

“HEAVE.”

He’s hauled upwards again, barely holding on.

SNAP.

Another bite, he grips on to the rope for dear life.

And then he’s over the lip and into the light of the passageway, barely able to lift himself, Jim dodges in, grabs the snake and flings it back out into the Well shaft.

“Get down here- he’s poisoned.”

Newt shouts up.

Five minutes later the adventurers are in the passageway, Bec has most of his wounds healed, and yet the Viper’s poison still courses through him. 

“Are you alright?” Ala asks.
Bec shrugs.
“Take it easy.” Cas cautions.
“Take it easy?” Newt whispers back, “not much chance of that.”
Cas shoots the Gnome a look, Bec chuckles and draws his longsword- it gives him comfort.

Another sunrod flares, Cas and Newt leads the group forward into a much larger chamber.

The corridor spills into a large cavern, some twenty feet wide; it extends forty feet away from them. The air is damp, the constant drip of water. The cavern floor is uneven; it slopes down away from the adventurers. The cave boasts a number of fine stalactites and stalagmites, also loose rubble and some rotting timbers.

Cas grabs Newt’s arm.

“Look- there’s an exit.”

And so there is, another passage, hidden a little by the stone formations of the cavern.

“We should check this place out. Don’t want to leave anything dangerous behind us.”

Newt states, mocking the Paladin, and inches forward.

“Be careful little one.” Cas offers, genuine.
Newt tuts and shakes his head, mouths ‘little one’, and moves on forward.

“Wait.”

Jim appears.

“Look.”

Jim points at a desiccated corpse of a cave lizard, and then another, and another, and… There are lots of them.

But Newt’s sunrod glints off something silver and gold on the cavern floor, his greed gets the better of him- he moves forward to investigate.

And at that second a huge section of the cavern floor seems to tilt and lift, to pivot, out scurries a Monstrous Trapdoor Spider, the huge creature skitters forward with lightning speed, straight for Newt.

Fwung.

Newt fires his crossbow, the bolt lodges in the ceiling of the cavern.

Fwung.

Jim fires too- his arrow heads high and wide.

Just in time Newt dodges and tumbles behind a stalagmite, the Spider is thwarted.

Newt scrambles back, as the Spider climbs over the stalagmite, screaming.

“SPYYYYYDER.”

Fits another bolt into his crossbow and fires again.

Fwung.

Misses again, he’s hard against the cavern wall.

“Newwwwwt.”

Jim, cries and then charges, he gets about five yards.

Before getting caught in a complicated, and previously seemingly invisible, lattice of spider’s webs, he’s stuck fast.

Ala dodges left, finds a clear space, notches an arrow and lets it fly- it whizzes over the top of the Spider, and clatters into the wall, a little way from Newt, who doesn’t look best pleased.

The Monstrous Spider bends low, its fangs smash against Newts chain shirt, score grooves in the Gnome’s armour, but do not pierce the mail.

“Smidgin.” Anya whispers coming to the end of a scroll- a single Magic Missile wends its way, lightning fast, across the room and thumps into the Spider’s abdomen.

The Spider draws away. Attempts to turn in close quarters.

And just in time to meet the charge of Cas and Bec, Bec clears the way through the webs, tearing a Barbarian-shaped gap through which Cas follows.

The Barbarian’s longsword swings and crunches into the Spider, crippling two of the creature’s legs and loosing a spray of black filthy ichor from the wounds. The Spider rises up, struggling desperately to turn. Cas races in and stabs the beast in its exposed underbelly- the creature deflates, sinks to the stone floor, dead.

Silence for a moment, the adventurers catch their breath.

Newt sees his reward, scuttles over, and takes, what looks to be, a beautifully made dagger with a large opal set in the hilt.

“Are we finished?” Cas asks.
Newt nods.
“Then let’s get on.”

The adventurers make a cursory search of the chamber, discover a hand full of silver and gold and then filter on through the other passage.

They press on.

But not for long.

“Stop.”

Newt creeps ahead, the five-foot wide passage turns to head west, ahead a rusted portcullis blocks the path.

“It’s trapped.” Newt confirms, “there’s something magical about it, there’s a sigil etched into the floor- a magical ward, someone doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Can you manage it?” Anya enquires.
“Give me a minute.”

And as good as his word, although more than a minute passes, it’s actually nearer five.

“Done.”

Cas and Bec file forward, grip the bottom of the portcullis and wrench it upwards.

GRRRRINND

Bec holds it aloft.

“Come on.” Cas waves the others forward.

SLICE

A spear shoots out of the passage wall, at least only part of the way out, misses everyone, Jim reacts quickly, hefts his battle axe and smashes the spear in half.

“Quickly.” Cas shouts and encourages the others onwards.

There seems to be a small, previously hidden, small round hole in the passage’s northern wall.

MOOOOOAN

There’s someone, or rather something, on the other side of the wall.

“Wait. There may be more traps.” Newt cautions.

The adventurers file through to the far side of the portcullis, which Bec lets go of, it stays in place, locked in the up position.

“There’s a door.”

Ala rushes to it. Jim, Cas and Bec get into place.

The Priestess of Correllon flings the door open, into a darkened chamber, a sunrod arcs into the room.

A small irregular shaped room, it reeks of decay. Four Dwarves wearing rusty chainmail and carrying spears, one of which is broken, inhabit the place, they turn to face the adventurers. Flesh sags and hangs from their pale faces, lifeless unblinking eyes- they shamble forward.

“Correllon hear my prayer.”

Ala wields her Holy Symbol.

A pale light encompasses the quartet, they stop, mid-stride- frozen.

“Destroy them.”

Bec, Jim and Cas let rip, the Zombie Dwarves are defenceless, and in thirty seconds are no more.

“Who the hell were they? And why the hell are they here?” Cas is flummoxed.

“Spread out- search the place.” Anya states.

The adventurers set to.

Collectively they discover a number of ripped torn and shredded pieces of paper which when joined back together, Anya completes the jigsaw in record time, form a message, of sorts.

Anya reads, after first deciphering the code.

“It’s simple really, it says-

Work Agreement

Dated- May 10th.

This contract is between Stoneshaper Masons (contractor) and Chloram (hirer). In return for the sum of 450gp, the contractor agrees to provide the following services: construction of a portcullis with a hidden lever, a ten foot deep covered pit, and a pair of simple traps. These services are to be performed at an undisclosed location- here, obviously- and shall be completed within 30 days of the start date. The contractors agree to keep this secret and shall not disclose the location to any other sources- I think that’s guaranteed.”

Anya stares down at the dead-again Dwarves, then continues, reads on-

“Where was I… Payment terms: 25% advance with the remainder due upon completion of the services. Contractor supplies all raw materials needed.

It’s signed, Chloram.”

Anya looks up at the expectant faces.

“And you’ve realised by now that Chloram is an anagram of Malchor, who, I believe Cas, is the Innkeeper of the Wellow Inn, where you, and Ala, are staying.”

Anya finishes.

The Paladin and Cleric look surprised and guilty, then nod, and share a look.

Next Turn: Lucky Newt.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​
Turn 29: Lucky Newt.

“Right then we need to look out for the traps.” Newt states the obvious.

“So it’s Malchor.” Ala says.
“It’s not yet certain.” Cas counters.
“What?”
“There may be some other explanation- let’s not jump to conclusions.”

Jim and Anya look skyward, they’re certain.
Ala tuts, as loud as she can.

“You’re a fool.”

And heads back out of the chamber.

Newt shrugs; dodges out of the chamber and ahead of Ala, the others file out and follow the Gnome who scans the floor ahead.

“Stop.”

Only thirty seconds later.

Newt creeps ahead.

“Ho-Ho. Look at this, they did say simple.”

Newt points as he explains.

“Trip wire, heads up the wall, across the ceiling, bow and arrow wedged in there- trip the wire and ‘fwoom’ arrow-in-the-eye. Simple.”

“Good work, can you disarm it, in case we have to return this way in a rush?” Cas asks.

“Easy, I’ll just…” Newt starts.

FWOOM

The arrow canons into the cavern wall, an inch or so above the Gnome’s head- it bounces out and down, Newt catches it.

“MMMmm”, he sniffs the arrow’s tip, “poisoned- could have been nasty. Come on.”

And then the Gnome’s off again.

There’s a collective shaking of heads, they follow on.

“Stop.”

They’ve not got much further.

“Another one.” Newt reports.

“Same again.”

The others settle in for the customary lecture.

“Another trip wire, up the wall, across the… no hang on.”

Newt spots something new.

“Nice. It’s connected to some sort of spring mechanism, which holds back a great big axe- FWUNG, blimey imagine what that would have done.” Newt finishes.

“Can you…” Cas starts.

“Say no more…”

FWUNG

The axe passes, an inch or so- as is custom, over the Gnome’s head.

“Oooops.” Newt turns around and giggles.

“Still. Onwards.”

Newt heads off again, but only takes another ten or so steps.

“Stop.”

“Bloody hell.” Jim offers.
“At least this should be the last of them- whatever it is he’s hiding down here he’s trying his best to keep it a secret.” Anya confirms.

“What is it this time?” Cas asks.

“Bec- grab a big rock.”

The Barbarian does so.

“Now fling it there.”

Bec does so.

FWUMP

The entire floor gives way- a pit trap.

Thirty seconds later they’ve safely negotiated their way across, Jim has sunk a number of pitons into the wall, a rope is strung across- it’s a noisy endeavour but very safe.

They move on the passage splits, north or south.

Newt crouches, puts his hand out to stop the others, sniffs the air, and then points south.

“Animal.” The Gnome states, he filters back- lets the warriors get ahead.

The sunrod illuminates another irregular shaped chamber, larger, a musty animal smell, with glistening walls, moisture pools on the floor in places, roughly twenty feet in diameter, stalagmites almost touch the ceiling.

Suddenly a noise, something large behind one of the stalagmites, it’s heading this way.

Cas and Jim leap forward to meet the creature, which roars as it arrives.

ROOAARRRR

A five foot at the shoulder black and white stripped musteline- a huge Dire Badger, its rage echoes down the passage walls.

It snaps and claws at Cas, who dodges back just in time. Jim sees his enemy, swings his axe, and leaves a bloody trail. The Dire Badger moans but strikes again, a huge claw lashes out and thumps and scores Cas, who staggers back, then comes again.

ROOOAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR

The noise again, louder still, from its maw foam and spittle drips, the Dire Badger Rages.

Newt tumbles into the room, comes up crossbow in hand and fires- misses. 

Jim dives forward and in again, slashes at the creature, rips open its back. 

Bec tries to progress in but he’s stuck in the door way, trapped behind Cas and Jim. Anya drags him aside, she holds a scroll in her hands- mutters arcane phrases.

FWING

A sudden burst of light before the Badger’s eyes, the creature turns aside, but only for a second, the spell fails, it Rages on.

The creature slashes again, its paw smashes into Cas, who’s flattened, knocked to the floor, he thrashes and wriggles out from beneath the creature- rolls left a little then right, and crawls away.

Thwong

Newt fires again- and misses.

Jim swings again, connects, leaving another bloody rent in the Dire Badger, which regardless comes again- launches itself towards Cas, still crumpled on the cavern floor.

Bec’s sees his opportunity and steps in, an over-arm stroke that cuts deep into the creature’s brain.

The Dire Badge yanks the sword from the Barbarian’s hands, stumbles backwards, foaming and spitting, screaming.

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRR

Eventually shivers and sinks to the floor.

Cas gulps down a healing potion, refreshed, stands and directs the action.

“Search this place. Quickly- they must know we’re coming.”

The others, except Ala, set to.

Ala approaches.

“You alright?”
“Yes”, Cas replies quickly, stern, and then softer, “yes.”

Ala nods and joins the others, Cas looks after her.

Less than a minute later they’re heading north this time; there’s nothing to find in the Dire Badger’s lair.

The passage splits again, there’s a shimmering light coming from the left hand passage, and the flick of flames from the right.

“Quietly- left.” Cas counsels.

They head in, as silently as possible.

“Beautiful.” Jim states.
Even Bec is staring, speechless.

A large chamber, stalagmites join to stalactites forming columns, the south wall a milky white flowstone- just like a stone waterfall, at its base a pool of clear water trickling into runs and rivulets that flow north. The other walls wink and glisten from the numerous minerals infused in the stone.

Newt quickly dispels the glamour, crouches low and scuttles on in.

The others follow, eventually, when they stop staring at the beautiful chamber.

Newt’s spotted something in the pool.

Puts his hand in.

“Freezing.”

He gasps and picks out a lumpy leather pouch, he opens it.

A nest of silver sling stones glisten in the light.

“Right.” Cas whispers.
“I think the chamber ahead has somebody in it- the fire, we should take precautions.”

The others nod, check their gear.

Cas leads them out, and onwards.

The passage ends at a very large chamber, forty feet wide, fifty feet north to south. The area is dimly lit by a flickering fire, from a fire pit in the centre of the chamber, and now by the adventurer’s sunrods. Large stalagmites are scattered throughout the chamber, creating areas of shadow, two either side of the passage through which the adventurers come.

On the east wall is a large wooden chest with a massive padlock, along the north west wall a pile of furs and rags, the far wall a maze of two foot diameter holes that lead off into darkness, rat tunnels.

The adventurer’s take in the surroundings, the chamber seems to be empty, although there’s the squeak of rats somewhere, somewhere close.

Cas goes to speak… and is engulfed by a swarm of Rats that filter either side of the stalagmites.

“Now it’s over.”

A voice rings out from somewhere hidden over the far side of the chamber.

The rats gnaw and bite, they’re everywhere. Cas stumbles bleeding from over half-a-dozen wounds. Newt shambles forward, bleeding also, out of the storm.

FWUMP

And is struck hard in the chest, an arrow.

The Gnome falls backwards.

Next Turn: Where Badger?


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​
Turn 30: Where Badger?

Anya screams, “Get out of the way, FIRE.”

Cas struggles backwards rats all over him, more bites, he never knew he had so much blood.

FWUNG

An arrow thumps into his right thigh, he falls to his knees.

Newt rolls over and up, and is on all fours, rats filter towards him, biting his feet and legs as he shuffles forward. He struggles on, kicking and flailing with his legs trying to get the vermin off of him. He thrusts his hand into his belt pouch, comes out with a small flask, swigs the contents down- cuts and tears mend in an instant.

Cas thumps back into Ala.

“My baby.” She whispers.

And pours her healing magic into him.

“FLAME ON.”

Rats crisp, burn and die. And yet there are plenty more of them left.

“Sandwich.”

Bec charges into the swarm, he’s mad I told you, swats and swishes, and is soon covered in the creatures, Jim dives in and begins to swish and swot- neither of them are having a great effect.

“LET ME GO.”

Cas shouts, levers himself upright, and charges through the swarm again- bursts out the other side, veers right at the shape that seems to be dislodging itself from one of the stalagmites.

“Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaastard.”

The Paladin flings himself forward.

FWUNG

And is smashed again by an arrow, he staggers, but heads on.

Bec begins to see the sense of it, he crunches down and rolls out of the Rat Swarm, splattering the rats still on him in the process, he’s covered in nips and bites.

Jim follows the giant man, heads out of the swarm, and charges after Cas.

Newt rolls from behind a stalagmite, crossbow in hand, and fairly rat-free, aims at the shadowy figure, where Cas is heading.

Fwung.

He misses, damn that was one of his poisoned bolts.

Ala slashes at the swarm, tries to stay out of their reach, “Anya, again”, she screams.

“FLAME ON.”

The entrance to the chamber is filled with flames, and in an instant the swarm is gone, scattered stragglers skitter away from the crisped remains of their cousins, they flee.

Cas rips the arrow from his gut, pours healing energy into the wound, which stops bleeding and then closes over.

Then crashes into his enemy.

Who seems to be some half-Badger, half-Man- actually a Werebadger named Tarn.

Cas’s longsword slices into the man’s furred body, ripping a gout of flesh from his side. The creature swiftly lashes back; a great clawed hand slices Cas from neck to chest.

The Paladin staggers backwards, drops his sword, and collapses onto the cavern floor.

“More meet for the grinder.” The terrible creature whispers.

Newt kisses his crossbow, mutters a prayer, and fires again.

Fwung.

A hit. Except the bolt bounces right back out again. The Werebadger turns and growls, but Newt by then is hidden behind a stalagmite shaking.

“CAS.”

Ala screams and charges forward through the burnt remains of the rats, towards her lover.

Jim’s into the fray- slashes wildly- misses by a mile, and is raked badly, for his efforts; he breathes hard as blood cascades down his face and into his eyes.

Bec races forward, and at lightning speed.

Jim backs away swiftly waves his hand before him, nearly out on his feet. Newt stays hidden, sneaking glances every now and then. Ala squats over Cas, cradles his head as she fires healing into him, tears in her eyes. Anya enters the chamber.

“You must pay for your meddling ways.”

Tarn, the Werebadger shouts as it lurches forward to meet the much bitten Bec.

CRUNCH

Bec swings his great sword, hits decisively.

Yelp.

Tarn staggers back, holding his right arm to his chest, it’s all but severed.

GrrrrOOOWWWWLLL

The creature morphs and shapes, everyone stops what they’re doing to watch, it turns into a large Badger, then scurries-waddles backwards into one of the darkened tunnels, bites down on its bow, en route, and drags it after it, in seconds its gone.

“Pelor.”

Cas opens his eyes, takes a breath, tries to get up.

“Wait.” Ala holds him down.

“You’ve been bitten by a Were-Creature, you could be infected. You could all be.”
Jim, in particular, examines his wounds, sits down hard.

“I’m a Paladin, Ala, Pelor will protect me.” 

And Cas is up and on his feet.

“See what you can do for Jim, we’ll head to the temple as soon as we’re done here, they’ll have the cure.”

Ala nods, all business, heads over to Jim and uncorks a Healing Potion, soon his wounds are gone.

“Right then, we need to search this place- thoroughly. Newt.”

The Gnome comes back from poking around in one of the dark tunnels, nods at Cas.

“We need your eagle-eyes.” Cas finishes.

They set to work.  

The bed, mostly rags and furs, is stinky, nothing of use, over the fire-pit a cauldron and a bubbling foul stew.

Jim finds a bunch of strange, and small, leather harnesses.

“What are these for?”

Anya wanders over, examines them, Newt takes a look.

“Rats.” Anya has it.
“What for though?”
“You steal something nice, and small, then you put it in here”, Anya indicates a part of the harness, “then the rat runs along and delivers whatever it is, through…”, Anya turns and points at one of the dark tunnels, “there.”

The others mooch about and take a look at the strange devices. Newt heads over to the chest, gets to work.

“With these.” There’s more to Anya’s story, she holds a set of pipes in her hand, “I think these will prove to be magical, I’ve heard of them, ‘Pipes of the Sewer’, or some such- they’re used to Summon and Control rats. Like the swarm we fought earlier.”

“I hate rats.” Newt looks up.

SPRUNG

And then springs the lock on the chest- there’s lots to see inside.

“Anya.”

Newt proffers papers from the chest, while slipping a handful of coins and gems into a secret pocket.

Five minutes later they’ve sorted through their find, and what a find, the first thing is a map, which Cas identifies, “it’s the tunnels, it’s a map through the tunnels.”

“What use is that?” Jim asks.
Cas shrugs.

Also in the chest is an Ivory Scroll Tube, with some sort of intricate locking mechanism, Newt soon finds a way, it contains a bunch of scrolls- they’re passed to Anya.

“Strength spells, all of them.” She states.

Then a rack of identical potion flasks, all labelled. Newt reads, then mumbles, through a giggle, “they’re shrinking potions.”
“What?” Ala asks.
“Shrinking, reduces your height, your size and that.”
“Oh.”
“I bet we’d fit down the tunnels with one of these.”
Newt giggles again.

Passes another sheet of paper to Anya and then starts to scoop out of the chest the pile of gems and coins.

“It’s a spell scroll for something called, ‘Improved Reduce Person’, probably the same as the potions.”

She looks around.

“The pipes are magical, you’re right.” Ala confirms.

“So, where next?”

They turn to look at Cas, who as they watch shrinks down till he is only one-and-a-half feet tall.

“Onwards.”

The Paladin states, in a voice a little like Donald Duck.

Next Turn: The Diddymen.


----------



## Richard Rawen

Goonalan said:
			
		

> I'm still frustrated with this story hour, if anyone has any clues as to how I can improve it then please don't hesitate to drop me a line, it could be so much better. I think it's partly because when I play this group they tend to skip back story and the roleplay which usually occurs during, and definitely between scenarios- they just want to get their dice rolling and get stuck in- obviously this makes character development incidental to the action (dice rolling).
> 
> Suggestions please...




Sorry I haven't had much in the way of comments of late... catchin' up.
All I can say you is that you are telling the story well enough that the characters do not blur and the action is detailed and clear enough to follow and enjoy. I don't see the downside you apparently do... so I will ask this:
What is it that _you_ see wrong?


----------



## Goonalan

It lacks depth and it's far too disjointed. While there will be an overarching campaign arc it's not something that figures greatly in actual play, therefore I have to superimpose it later, same with character development. The Lost Boys is easy and fun to write, they're that silly- really. The Lost Boys are also more memorable, for me at least, The Goodman Gang (the players) know the rules and how to make the most of their spells, abilities etc. although they're a little head-on at times. The players want to play D&D, the dice rolling game, not hang around in bars and develop their characters, it's a ludology vs narratology debate, the Goodman Gang play because like what they can do, and love the gameplay. The Lost Boys have really very little idea of what the rules are, or their characters full potential, so they overcome the various encounters by shouting as much as stabbing, they've no fear- try convincing a gurning twelve year old that Grand Alf will probably not last long against the assorted Goblins if he tries to "punch them out", or that the Paladin is a fearless warrior and shouldn't, probably, shout "run away", or, "leggit" every other encounter. And the Lost Boys argue, with each other mostly, and while it's frustrating as a DM it's narrative gold because they're making it all up as they go along, and their characters- and their views and opinions, their foibles and and traits are getting bigger and bigger as the game goes on. 

I realise that the reason why the Goodman Gang's story sucks, to me, is because we don't have time to do anything else- we meet, we play; by which I mean dive into the scenario, apres a little shopping, the players don't want to do anything else. In game the players talk to each other, it's the only time we see each other, but don't talk in character, or at least very little.

So... I didn't do any updates last week because of time, and because I was thinking of abandoning it for a bad job, I'm not Lazybones, I wish I was though, but prose is not my speciality... which gives me an idea, after this scenario's done (I've already written it to the end), then the next I'm going to try to stand back a little more- we'll see if I can do it. If not I've had another idea for a style change in the scenario after that...

Hey-ho, we'll see.

Thanks for the feedback as always.


----------



## Pedestrian

Goonalan said:
			
		

> It lacks depth and it's far too disjointed.




You've hinted at these feelings quite a lot Goonalan. I'm going to say I think you are flat out wrong. Often times, writers are their own harshest critics, and I think you are suffering from the same thing.

There's plenty of depth in your story. Cas's coming to terms with what it means to be a leader, the relationship between him and Ala, Ala and Newt, Bec's low-key psychosis, Jim's nervousness coupled with his obvious valour, Newt's love/hate feelings towards the rest of the group. All of these characters, I feel, could come to blows over a red cow, and we, the reader, would be both deeply concerned how things had reached this end, and hopeful for a positive conclusion.

As for the disjointedness? These are young people, in dangerous situations. I mentioned before about your use of pacing. I _like_ the quick shifts of focus, moving from character to character. It models both the panicked pace of the situations they are in, and also is a nonintusive representation of the way in which encounters are worked in dungeons and dragons. Yet when the action returns to a more sedate situation, you slow it down, working in more detail as the characters themselves have more time to work in the detail.

You're also commenting on having to make stuff up, fleshing out the skeleton that is made in game. To draw from my own experiences both gming and writing the events, I can tell you that I at least also bulk things up. The thing I try to keep in mind is that I am trying to capture the spirit of what went on at the table, even if I didn't get a 100% accurate retelling - which would be hard, given I usually leave about half a week between beginning the write up, and take up to a week to complete each entry.

It's all good stuff here, Goonalan, and you are doing a smashing job. It's ok that you perhaps aren't fond of the style you are using, and by all means change it if that's the case, but don't put down the style you are using, which is engaging, and effective. It's snappy, it's quick, it's conducive to the web-forum format but it doesn't miss details where needed.


----------



## Goonalan

Bloody hell... I mean, Bloody Hell (try it with astonishment). 

That's the nicest thing anyone's said in a while, and on the money with the characterisation. Bugger, I'm going to have to write some more.

Honestly, thanks, for taking the time to renew my faith, in lots of things.

Very much appreciated. No really, I mean... Bloody Hell.

Onwards, ever onwards... hope this one's not too bad.

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​
Turn 31: The Diddymen.

“Where now?” Newt squeaks and grins.
Anya stares at the map; she points the way- “there”, she squeaks back.

The adventures head off down the tunnel.

Bec is the largest of the Diddymen, or rather people, just a little over one-and-a-half feet tall; the Barbarian, Jim, and Cas are however bulging with muscles, at least for their size- Anya has managed to successfully cast all three of the ‘Bull’s Strength’ spells they found in the locked scroll case.

Newt, on the other hand, is tiny, a little less than nine inches tall, and weighing well… almost nothing at all.

Anya shimmers, her Mage Armour scroll takes effect.

“Remember silver or magical weapons.” Cas squeaks, then heads on.

Barely has he finished the words when ahead comes the sound of squeaking, and not from any members of the Goodman Gang this time.

“Rats.” Newt warns.

Bec charges into the fray, there are over a half-a-dozen of the rodents, each as big as an adventurer; he swipes wildly, and misses.

Fwung.
Fwung.

Newt fires, catches one of the creatures in the throat, it gargles, collapses, and dies. Anya’s crossbow sings, the tiny bolt lodges in the Rat’s maw; it swallows, chokes, hiccups and turns belly-up. Two down.

“Charge” Cas shouts/squeaks.

The second wave hits- Ala slashes and connects, leaving a bloody trail, another Rat flops down dead. Cas stabs forward, another one bites the dust. Jim charges into another, an over-arm blow with his axe- dead.

Five killed in the brief exchange the other Rats flee. 

Fwung.

Newt pegs another; it sinks to the tunnel floor, kicks a while, and then expires.

“It’s not bad… being short.” Newt finishes.

They move on- towards a larger chamber ahead, they can feel the change in the air movement, the muddy tunnels seem to breathe, at least echo with the winds passing.

Anya pushes to the front, her wand ready, eager to get an attack in.

The chamber ahead is only ten feet in diameter, but appears huge to the shrunken adventurers, as do the two Badgers that squat at the far side of it, bristling with anger- snarling, and standing, rather towering, over them the Werebadger, Tarn, back in half-Badger half-Man form. Still wounded and yet much healthier looking than before. 

Tarn spots them, notches an arrow and lets it fly, and then another.

FWUNG
FWUNG

The first missile shatters into the stone wall by Ala’s head, the second strikes Cas, but only a glancing blow.

Newt is first to react, he tumbles into the chamber, comes up hidden behind a large rock, dodges into sight and fires; another poisoned crossbow bolt shoots towards the Werebadger.

Fwung

And hits, but it’s only a pin-prick in the creatures matted fur.

Then the poison strikes, Tarn stiffens and then just as suddenly relaxes, much diluted the poison has no effect.

“Kill them my furry fiends.”

Tarn sneers; the Badgers rush to obey.

The furious creatures smash into the front rank- Cas and Anya. 

Anya is caught by a flailing claw, blood bubbles to the surface, she dodges hard right and out of the melee- Bec fills the gap, swings hard and leaves a bloody gash on the Badgers snout, the creature instinctively backs away. The second Badger claws at Cas, with the same result- a line of blood appears along his forearm

Anya fumbles for a scroll, gets it right, and intones in a whisper- a haze of floating lights appear, circling the giant Werebadger’s head, Tarn shakes and twitches once or twice, tries to clears the fog the Daze spell has conjured in his mind, he fails and is left standing statue silently shaking.

Jim leaps into the fray, swings hard at a Badger, and connects, and yet the creature just snarls some more and launches its counter attack, Jim dodges back, just in time, the giant Badger snaps its jaws shut on empty air.

Ala steps into the fray, slices with all her might, but misses by some distance, the Badger rears up ahead of her, ready to lunge down upon her, pummel her, smash her into the cold stone floor, Cas steps into the gap, swings hard, and splits the beast open- guts and innards tumble out, he dodges back as it deflates and collapses.

He’s not done however; the Paladin dodges past the fresh corpse, and hurtles towards Tarn. 

“To the death.”

He cries.

Thwung

A silver crossbow bolt protrudes from the giant Werebadger’s thigh, still dazed; it doesn’t make a sound, nor register the hit.

The second Badger snaps and claws at Bec, full of Rage at its partner’s demise, the Barbarian however is too quick for it, he dodges right and round to the side of the creature, slashes and slices- the Badger finally ceases its struggle and collapses. 

Anya fumbles another scroll out, another Daze spell aimed at Tarn, this time however the magic founders, Tarn shakes his head more violently, he’s coming out from under her spell.

“Charge.”

This time it’s Jim who sounds the call, catching up with Cas, Ala swiftly follows in.

The Paladin rushes forward and round-house cuts, his sword strikes a stone on the floor and leaps from his grasp, his momentum sends him tumbling forward, flat on his face, prone before the terrible creature. He struggles to rise, looks up, and up, and up at the towering figure that blinks and comes alive, grins down at the sprawling Paladin, as it looms over him.

Tarn drops his bow and plunges forward onto all fours, sinks claws and teeth into Cas’ back and shoulders, rakes and rips- shreds the Paladin.

The creature stays low to the ground, over the now unmoving Paladin, pressing him down, crushing Cas into the cold stone floor.

Newt scurries forward, crouches behind another fallen rock.

Thwung

He misses. 

Bec and Anya lumber forward to meet the seemingly invincible foe, the latter intoning another spell en route, a cold white Ray of Frost lances out and burns a freezing patch into the Werebadger’s side, it hardly seems to notice.

Jim arrives, still charging, rolls under the Werebadger’s swipe and slices, leaving a shallow cut in his axe’s wake. Ala follows Jim in, trying to get to Cas, but is sent scurrying back as the creature lashes out again, she dodges the blow and brings her longsword down on the its clawed hand, another hit, another line of blood- and yet it only serves to further enrage the creature.

A massive clawed hand smashes down and around, thumps into Ala, knocking the wind out of her- leaving her breathless, barely clinging onto her sword, then in the same motion lifts and flings her into the air, sends her flying, spinning backwards, she crashes into the cold stone floor a dozen feet away- unmoving.

Newt presses himself into the stone; his hands shake as he applies another dose of poison to a silver crossbow bolt, he gulps and stares hard at Ala’s crumpled form.

Bec sees his opening, dodges into range and beneath the Werebadger’s thickly furred neck, stabs up and buries half his sword’s length into the creature’s throat; blood spurts out, showering him as he withdraws the blade. 

And yet the thing fights on, even as it bleeds, it reverses a little, then snaps its jaws shut on the spot where Bec had just been standing, the Barbarian dances backwards grinning insanely.

Anya points and mumbles; a bolt of force, a Magic Missile, thumps into the Tarn’s side, the Werebadger winces.

Jim leaps in and slashes wildly, nearly over-balances, he catches himself as he stumbles closer, his axe swipe well wide of the mark, and at the last instance dodges back, out of reach, avoiding the creature’s reaction swipe. Buoyed by his non-fatal mistake the Ranger steps into the fray again, axe before him he challenges the fell creature.

“Is that all you’ve…”

And is crunched, a huge clawed hand mashes him into the cavern floor, Tarn reaches down, lightning quick, and bites and gnaws on one Jim’s flailing legs, the Ranger kicks, scrambles and screams and somehow manages to struggle free of the creatures grip- his lacerated leg produces a slick of blood that soaks through his breeches in an instant.

Newt pops up for a second, takes in the situation, “feck”, and then aims and fires.

THWUNG

The bolt hits home, buries itself in the side of the Werebadger’s skull, the creature instantly stops what its doing- looks around, suffers some sort of ‘where am I?” moment, followed by a “who am I?” moment. Then the poison swirls into Tarn’s brain, it shakes its head, letting lose a shower of blood and slather, roars like it’s the end of the world.

“To the death.” It finally whispers, and then grins.

The poison has no effect.

Newt slumps down hard, hidden behind his rock eerie, “well I’m out of ideas”, he intones, but there’s no one there to hear him.

Bec, fortunately, is a lot more single-minded, or stupid, I forget which- he slashes  again at the huge beast before him, misses as Tarn shuffles back, a cascade of blood and bile leaking from his wounds. 

“Kill it for Pelor’s sake, kill it.”

Anya screams, invoking a god she certainly doesn’t believe in, her voice is steady and yet her hands shake and fumble as she tries again to load her crossbow.

Jim struggles to his feet, drags his axe behind him, the stumbles into a half charge and slashes again, either it’s his vision, or, well… it’s just that Jim’s not that hot when it comes to the toe-to-toe stuff, his blow sails well wide, thung’s into the stone floor almost sending the weapon shuddering from his hands. He stumbles backwards, overbalancing, at the same instant a clawed hand slashes forward; he’s just out of reach.

“Damn.” The Ranger whispers, then, “please… this time.”

Then he spots something, or rather someone, moving, “CAS”, he screams.

The Paladin levers himself up a little, shakes his head- woozy still, and attempts to get his bearings.

The Werebadger follows Jim’s scream, snakes its head down, and spots the Paladin rising, it steps forwards, not back, and brings one clawed foot hard down, slamming into Cas’ chest, crushing him down onto the floor again. Tarn transfers his weight to the back leg pinning the Paladin, ribs crack, crunch and break. Cas wretches and coughs up a river of blood, he flails wildly, no air, no breathe, no last words, almost lost to the dark.

Thwung

Another silver crossbow bolt bites into the Tarn’s flesh, The Werebadger spins back round, the pressure on the Paladin’s chest recedes, blood bubbles from Cas’ mouth as he takes another breathe. Newt slumps against the rock, closes his eyes, remembers to breath, then fumbles to load another bolt, he’s crying. 

Thwung

Anya’s shot flies high and wide.

“Damn, damn, damn…” She mutters while trying to slot another bolt into the weapons mechanism, the bolt dances in her hands, she can’t seem to get a grip on it.

Bec rushes into range again, lances his sword forward, then staggers back with the effort, the blade doesn’t even cut the creature’s flesh, the Barbarian dodges but it looks to the untrained observer to be nothing more than a slurred stagger, much too slow, he’s caught by a clawed hand, sent tumbling back, head-over-heals, comes to rest nearly ten feet away. 

The Barbarian lies on his back, his blinking eyes trying to focus on something, anything, “I deserve this”, he thinks and then levers himself back onto his feet, stands tall and sucks in a huge lungful of air, he swiftly bends then crouches, stars fill his vision, the blackness between the myriad points of light looks inviting- calm, at peace, “perhaps I can forget now”, he sinks to one knee, sways a little, remembers the cool feel of the stone floor, puts a hand down to renew the memory- he’s sinking.

Jim stumbles forward again, slashes, the momentum of his axe spins him around, on the second circuit the axe connects, bites into Tarn’s leg, and brings the Ranger staggering to a halt, rocked by his own blow.

Tarn looks round and down, to the tiny axe man, the Werebadger meets Jim’s gaze, and grins.

Then pushes off from Cas, crushing the Paladin again, set to launch itself forward to smash into Jim, to finish the job once and for all.

The Werebadger goes nowhere, instead slips and flounders, Tarn looks down and under, to the place where Cas has just sunk his pin-sized dagger, into the tendons at the back of its right leg, it’s a small wound, but it seems to have hit the sweet spot, Achilles would be proud.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH.”

It’s a human voice, and in absolute agony, the giant Werebadger screams.

“feckingSANDWICH.”

Tarn turns forward, just in time to see Bec stab his two-handed sword clean though its right eye, a splurge of gunk erupts from the deflated orb, soaking the Barbarian who still grips tight to his sword.

Then everything stops.

Goes quiet.

The Werebadger blinks its one good eye.

Gulps.

Then again.

But can’t keep it down.

It opens its mouth to a torrent, a waterfall, of blood, bile and worse.

“Nooooooooooo…” Delivered in a soft whisper.

The creature slowly folds, comes to rest on the stone cavern floor- dead.

Silence.

Then.

“ALA.”

A croaked cry, it’s Cas’ voice, and it’s an order.

The Paladin collapses back onto the floor, and closes his eyes.

Next Turn: The Road is Long.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​
Turn 32: The Road is Long.

Newt scrambles over to Ala, in a rush, eager to obey the fallen Paladin, checks her pulse “She’s alright, just out-for-the-count.”

Cas stands up, an almighty effort, he’s a mess, covered in his own blood, he wavers for a second and then quickly falls back down again, “Ow”, the Paladin laughs, searches for a healing vial.

Bec sinks to his knees, again, out of breath- exhausted, Jim staggers over and leans on him, there’s not much keeping him up either.

“We rest.” Cas giggles, a chorus of pops as healing potions are simultaneously uncorked signals agreement.

DM’s interlude- the players at this point were wandering back and forth to the fridge, sometimes, actually most times, returning empty handed- the general consensus went a little like this, “bloody hell that was close.”

“Well, it can’t get any worse.” Nobody looks at Newt, Cas continues to guffaw.
“What’s so funny?” The Gnome enquires.
“Honestly?” The Paladin levers himself up a little, his muscles protest, vehemently, he rubs his still battered leg- trying to get some life into it, then continues, “Honestly, I’ve no idea. Except… Woo Hoo, we did it.” The Paladin chuckles contentedly.
Newt shrugs and heads off to Anya who’s sitting on the floor in silence.

“What’s he so happy about?” He whispers.
Anya squints at the Gnome, “being alive?”

Newt it seems still doesn’t get the joke.

Half-an-hour later and they’re all back on their feet, there wounds have gone, as has almost all of their healing.

“We really need to go to the Church now, or rather later.” Ala confirms.
“She’s right- everyone that’s been bitten or clawed by that monster”, Cas points at the Werebadger’s corpse, which has now transformed into a naked, and immensely ugly, looking man- with innumerable rents and gashes “could be infected.”
“With what?” Newt asks.
“Lycanthropy, it’s a curse as much as a disease turns the victim into one of those.”

They all turn to stare.

Newt checks himself for scratches or bites- there’s not a mark on him.

“Damn.”

He whispers, and then a little louder.

“I hate being small.”

Cas sums up the situation.

“So, we finish this, then go back to the Church of Pelor.”

The others nod, except for Newt, where’s Newt?

“Hey, secret stash.”

Newt stops, what’s he saying, he’s found and opened a hidden compartment in the chamber, and there inside has discovered a pair of beautifully cut emeralds, and now, now he’s telling everyone about it.

Newt’s going soft.

Five minutes later they’ve stripped Tarn’s body and recovered anything that’s worth taking, and is small enough for them to carry- which includes a ring that detects as magical.

Anya unfurls the map, has a look around, and then gingerly points to another tunnel.

“That way.”

They trudge on.

Fifteen minutes later, with only a couple of brief stoppages- squeaks and far off sounds that further warrant caution, but prove not to be dangerous.

The adventurers emerge into yet another large cavern, this one lit by sprays of phosphorescent fungi clinging to the walls and ceiling, which bathe the chamber in an eerie blue light. A slow moving stream bisects the cavern, the water crystal clear and not very deep.

Unless you’re really small.

Oh hang on.

Three moss covered, and therefore slippery, stepping-stones signal the way across.

“Wait.”

Newt perches on the bank- watches.

FWUNG

A large Cave Trout flashes and shimmers out of sight.

“He won’t be back in a hurry. And if he is then it’ll be fish for supper, and breakfast, and lunch, and probably supper again… did you see the size of that thing?”

Cas nods and claps the Gnome on the shoulder.

“Now who’s first?”

Newt shakes off Cas’ hand, grins up at the Paladin, turns and measures out twelve paces backwards, grins again and then launches himself helter-skelter at the river.

“NEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWT.”

A collective response.

SPROING

Newt clears the water by five feet or more. Quickly turns, polishing his magical ring, he unfurls a rope.

“Here catch this.”

Newt throws it over; Cas catches the end as the others grin.

Five minutes later a makeshift crossing place has been created, a harness, and a simple pulley system will hopefully ensure safe passage.

It works well.

Until it comes to Ala.

“I’m not very good at this, I always…”

SPLOOSH

“ALLLAAAAAAA.”

Cas screams.

Bec hauls and Ala appears back at the surface of the stream, she clambers up a slick moss stepping stone.

Behind a silver flash in the water, the Cave Trout launches itself out of the stream, and directly at Ala- it’s obviously very hungry.

SPLOOOOSH

It falls well short.

Bec heaves and drags a bruised and battered Ala across the stream.

The Elf briefly lies on the bank, coughs and splutters a bit, and then through her grin mutters.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this.”

She laughs.

“This way.”

Anya points again to another tunnel, she’s all business.

They head on.

And ten minutes later.

There’s a larger chamber ahead, and…

“There’s something coming.”

Newt dodges back as the tunnel ahead is engulfed in shadow.

CLICK-CLICK.

Anya steps forward.

“FLAME ON.”

A fan of fire engulfs the Giant Worker Ant ahead, all that’s left when the flames subside are the charred stumps of the creatures legs still sticking up, that and a slick crumbling charcoal.

“I hate picnics.”

Jim mutters.

“Quickly.”

Cas waves them on and they dart into another chamber.

There are three exits to the west, and another, on the far side, the cavern floor is littered with piles of rubble, the gaster (back bit) of another Giant Worker Ant disappears into a tunnel to the west.

“Which way?” Cas whispers.

Anya fumbles her map.

“Err… Straight over.”

“Run.”

And they do, or at least the best they can on the loose stones and rubble.

“To the rear.” 

Cas whispers at Jim and Bec.

They’re in the vanguard, and three-quarters of the way across when another Giant Worker Ant emerges from one of the other tunnels, tastes the air.

CLICK-CLACK

And then heads on over.

But by this time they’re in the far tunnel.

“Safe.”

Ala breaths again.

Just as the second Giant Worker Ant enters the tunnel behind them and scurries forward to attack.

“Now.”

Cas, Jim and Bec charge into the creature.

Cas dances forward with his longsword, lances out, only to be knocked away by a flailing leg, the Giant Worker Ant is easily as tall as him, and three times as long. Bec however sees his opening and slices and severs the flailing leg, the Ant staggers, attempts to circle away from the three attackers but instead ends up facing Jim, he crashes his battle axe into the creatures head, it collapses.

They head off at a rush, eager to put some distance between themselves and the Giant Ant’s nest.

And yet, another fifteen minutes later, they’ve still not reached the next chamber indicated on Anya’s map, although… strange, there are a number of bobbing lights approaching.

“Another party?” Jim asks.
“What of miniature adventurers like us?”

Newt taps his head in disgust.

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

Ala is watching the lights intently, they’re closer still.

“I think they’re Fire Beetles- no problem, oh hang on. Damn.”

The Goodman Gang get ready for another fracas.

Next Turn: Choker in the pack.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​
Turn 33: Choker in the pack.

FWUNG x lots.

“Let them have it.”

Cas announces.

A wave of arrows and bolts smashes into the lead Beetle, and then another.

It has a slightly scratched carapace, and that’s your lot, they’ve not got their eye-in or so it seems.

“FLAME ON.”

The first Fire Beetle is in range of Anya’s wand- it’s engulfed in flames, momentarily.

It smoulders as it charges through the fire, and towards the wand wielder and her crunchy friends.

“FLAME ON.”

Ah that hits the spot, the result is two inert smoking shells, a third creature, bringing up the rear, quickly turns and scurries off back the way it came, figuring it’ll come back to the bar-b-q later.

WHOOOF

A thick pall of smoke washes over the adventurers and engulfs them in choking black noxious fumes.

“ANNNYA.”

Ala screams in frustration, it’s a good job no one can see the look on her face.

“FORWARD.”

Cas charges through the burning Beetle wreckage.

And where Cas goes the others follow.

Thirty seconds later the sextet are through, coughing and hacking, covered in a stinking awful soot, but they’re safe, and the air currents are blowing the smoke away from them.

“That was close.”

The Paladin comments, the others examine their fresh wounds, every one of them is burnt and blistered, everyone except Cas.

“Come on, let’s keep the pace up.”

Cas rushes forward again.

They others suck in air and trudge after him.

The Paladin’s has not gone far; he’s on the very edge of the sunrods light, when-

BUMP

“What’s that, the tunnel’s blocked, it’s… the other Fire Beetle.”

Cas swings wildly, doesn’t even leave a scratch. The Fire Beetle half turns, then Cas gets it right and slips the length of his longsword into the creatures tiny brain, it shivers momentarily then collapses.

They have to climb over the thing, there’s no other way round.

And two minutes later they approach yet another cavern.

“Wait.”

Ala calls them back, they gather.

“Let’s make sure.”

Ala tends to the wounded, another minor rest break, she gets out her healing kits and does her best to tend to every little scratch, bruise and burn.

Ten minutes later and they’re as good as new.

“Thanks Ala.” Cas smiles.
“It’s what I’m here for.” She grins back at Cas, who it seems has been forgiven.

She stows away what’s left of the healing kits, less than half-a-dozen uses left.

They head into a huge chamber, this one with a fifteen foot wide chasm bisecting it.

Newt, with Anya’s help, fires a crossbow bolt with a Light spell cast on it over to the far side, there’s an exit over there, just like it says on Anya’s map.

Then they investigate the chasm.

There’s a rope running all the way across, an iron spike hammered into both sides, between which the rope sags.

BOING

Jim jumps, startled.

Newt’s over.

Thirty second later Newt has a second rope across, and like at the stepping stones a harness and pulley system has been improvised.

“Ala you first.” Cas smiles, not too much.
“Thanks.” The Elf grabs on to, and then hangs from the rope, hands and legs clutching on.

She caterpillars her way over.

She’s a quarter of the way across.

“You’re doing great.” Cas offers.
“Shut up.” Ala offers back.

She’s half way across.

“That’s it.” Cas tries again.
“I said…”

She falls off.

And Bec, and Newt (ooops) hang on to the rope, prevent her fall.

“Err… People.”

The rope begins to slip through Newt’s hands as he skids towards the edge of the chasm.

“Just keep me still.”

Ala reaches up for the other rope.

The line she’s on suddenly springs and bounces.

“Hey…”

Her beautiful Masterwork Cold Iron Longsword slips out of its scabbard and plummets into the dark below.

“You ba… I said keep the line still.”

Bec’s not moving.

Newt has now got a firm grip of the rope and has anchored himself at the lip of the chasm- he’s going nowhere. Bec and Newt hold the line rock steady.

They’re not wobbling the rope.

They’re about to inform Ala of this when-

“Aaaaaaargh.”

A long rubbery tentacle wraps itself around the line, towards the adventurer’s side.

“There’s something down there.”

Ala goes to point, then realises where that manoeuvre might end.

She nods furiously at the offending tentacle.

“There.”

Jim scurries over, looks down the side of the chasm.

“What the…”

FWOOM-SQUELCH-SCREEEEEEE

His arrow strikes something, something now less happy than before.

The rope suddenly catapults up; Ala wraps her hands and arms around the original line and hauls herself up, grips tight.

“Haul her back.”

Anya shouts.

“Quickly.”

Cas concurs.

Jim leaps to his feet, and with Bec begins to drag Ala back over.

A tentacle, an awfully long tentacle at that, lashes out, wraps itself around Ala’s leg.

SQUELSH-SUCKKKKK

And hangs on.

Then nothing happens for a second.

“Cas, I…”

Then, almost in slow motion, a ripple starts somewhere way down the tentacle and rushes towards Ala.

WHIPPP

She falls.

But only for a second, Newt and Bec take the strain again, as the tentacle adds it’s weight to Ala’s.

“QWickkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.”

Newt screeches.

Blood flows from Ala’s leg.

“Cas, Cas please…”

Ala whimpers.

“Jim.” Cas pleads, and then grabs hold of the rope with Bec.

“Newt keep hold. Jim don’t miss. Ready?”

The last to Bec, who nods.

FWOOM

Jim’s arrow flies.

SQUEEELCH

And unseen by the adventurers above the arrow rips a huge chunk of rubbery flesh out of the Choker below them, down in the chasm.

The tentacle snakes off, and away, in an instant. At the same moment Bec, Cas and even Anya haul at the rope, and in less than ten seconds she’s across.

Ala breaths hard, the wind knocked out of her sails somewhat, then casts a spell to heal her wounds.

“We’re not doing that again.” Ala calls across.
“What do you suggest?” Cas calls back.

Anya marches towards the cavern wall.

“Simple really, we set up our own rope, use the wall as a guide, tie on, and haul ass across.”

Two minutes later it’s done.

Newt and Jim are set to watch for the Choker’s return, the next action comes when Cas is half way across, the strange rubbery creature, seeing its prey getting away from it comes gangling out of its lair, and is spotted by Newt, who lines it up in his sights, and, hands shaking, come on you bas… drops his beautiful crossbow into the chasm.

He has plenty to say on the matter.

“EXPLETIVE DELETED” x lots.

The creature rushes on, and then is momentarily lost from sight in a red haze, did I mention a fiery red haze.

“FLAME ON.”

The rubbery creature, almost vulcanized, squeaks and screeches furiously and heads back to its lair- lesson learnt.

Anya hands her crossbow over to Newt.

“I think this is yours.”

Newt cradles his new baby, googly eyes on Anya- he’s in love.

Next Turn: Like a Dragon.


----------



## Mahtave

Goonalan,

I will also add my two-cents worth here.  I am enjoying this story, please don't stop writing it!  It is not as humorous as your other story, but there is still a decent amount of humor in the interactions (I suspect there is a bit around the table based on the write-ups you had mentioned previously).  

How close was it to a TPK when the gang met up with Tarn for the last time; sounds like it was REAL close.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Loup Du Noir said:
			
		

> It's all good stuff here, Goonalan, and you are doing a smashing job. It's ok that you perhaps aren't fond of the style you are using, and by all means change it if that's the case, but don't put down the style you are using, which is engaging, and effective. It's snappy, it's quick, it's conducive to the web-forum format but it doesn't miss details where needed.




Just wanted to chime in to second everything Loup said. And to stress that those of us who read this storyhour (or any of the storyhours on these boards) aren't looking for a literary masterpiece (or even the next Robert Jordan). We're looking for an entertaining account of a D&D campaign - and you're providing that in spades.


----------



## Goonalan

Thanks for the feedback, I'll keep writing.

Mahtave, as to the TPK they had a way to go, mainly because Newt and Anya generally don't "do" melee. I think the pair had a few wounds from the Rat Swarms but nothing that would prevent them from legging it should the fight go really badly. As for the others, Cas was on 0, Ala stabilised at something like -5, Bec on 2 or 3, and Jim on about 5. It was getting real close, hence the trips to the fridge, my players can consume twice their body-weight when they're in dire straits, someone ought to do a study on it one day.

Thanks again.

And so on we go...

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​
Turn 34: Like a Dragon.

And ten minutes later, via another dark tunnel, the Goodman Gang emerge into yet another cavern, which appears to be… empty.

The floor is dusty, covered with fine rock debris, the west wall glints, more mineral deposits, slick with water and moisture, crystal formations wink and shine in the half-light.

“There’s nothing here, nice walls.” Newt comments.

They head across to the only other exit.

WHOOF

And are suddenly engulfed in flame.

They scatter, Cas and Anya run for the exit, Ala dodges back, Jim and Bec swish and slice… at what? Newt pats the flames on him out. And then a voice, as clear as a bell stops them in there tracks.

“Little dwarves cower before me or again feel my flamey breath, damn that doesn’t work... I mean, feel my flamey breath… again, whatever, you get the gist of it.”

They adventurers look about- who’s talking.

Then they figure it, except for Bec who continues looking, the voice is in their heads.

They’re all burnt a little.

“Where are you?” Cas enquires, aloud.
“What are you?” Ala worries.
“What do you want?” Anya cuts to the chase.

The voice comes again; Bec continues to look confused, searching high and low for the speaker.

“Leave tribute and I will allow you to pass on, one item from each of you. That’s better, that sounded good… fierce… Ohh, forgot to stop talking there, ignore that last bit- hand over the goodies, or else.”

The adventurers grow spikes. 

“Missile weapons everyone.” Cas says.

Nothing happens for a while.

Then a while more.

“Leave tribute…”, the voice begins again.

“Run.” Cas suggests, it catches on, the adventurers scarper for the far tunnel.

WHOOOOSH

Another gout of flame, but too late, the Goodman Gang are on there way, and to the far tunnel.

“Now turn and fire.” Cas orders.

Ala spins, bow in hand, arrow notched, ready to fly. Scans the area, her incredible Elven vision spots something, a small something.

“There.” And to make her point she fires, alas her arrow sails wide of the mark, not that any of the others can see the mark.

“What was it?” Jim shouts.
“Like a tiny Dragon.” Ala calls back.

Newt creeps forward, back into the chamber.

WHOOOOSH

He and Ala are once again caught in the flame, although only a little charred this time, the pair dodge back in time to avoid the spells affect.

A tiny Dragon-like creature hovers before them for a second, it has rainbow patterned wings, it’s beautiful, and then it blinks back out of existence.

“Run.” Cas is even more definite, they scarper.

“What do you mean LIKE a Dragon?” Jim wonders as he pelts forward.

There’s a fluttering noise coming from behind them, and it’s moving much faster than they are, the noise of fluttering wings is getting louder, catching them.

WHOOSH

The tunnel is yet again engulfed in flame.

“RIGHT…”

Jim spins and fires, instinctively sighting the now clearly visible Pseudo-Dragon, Blackspine; his arrow sails just wide.

Newt crouches and hurriedly coats a bolt in poison.

Anya points her wand.

“FLAME ON.”

The tiny Dragon is surrounded by flame, and yet there seems to be a void-space, a flame-free pocket, encompassing the creature, the flame dies down and it emerges completely unscathed.

“Magic Resistant, damn.” Anya offers.

“HE-HE.”

The creature’s laughter fills their heads.

“CHAAAARGE.”

Cas hurtles off towards the creature, back the way they came, swishing wildly as he runs, it’s like being menaced by a blender, his blade whirls and slashes all before him.

Bec shrugs, “Sandwich”, grins and follows suit, the others replicate the action.

“Oooo Bugger.”

The voice in their head comes again.

The fluttering wings retreat at speed.

The adventurers emerge back in the like-a-Dragon’s chamber.

“Leave tribute or else more fire.”

The voice is definite.

“What do you want? Who are you?” Cas calls back.

“I am Blackspine, sire of er… Bagpuss the er… Flamey, no, Fiery. I am a mighty Red Dragon sent, no not sent… er… I have decided, of my own accord, to guard this place, to rain down fiery… er… rain, on those that wish to pass. I can be dissuaded only by grand offerings, as befitting my mighty station.”

And then a little later.

“That last bit was quite good wasn’t it?”

The voice inside their heads fades.

“We will leave nothing.”

Jim draws himself up to his full height, strides forward.

“You’re not even a real dragon, pah… Red Dragon, my arse, you’re only like-a-Dragon, Anya says so.”

Jim finishes.

“WHY YOU…”

The voice in their heads is on volume 11.

“Jim, actually I think it is a Dragon.” Anya whispers.
“What?”
“I said I think it is a Dragon.”
“But you said…”

“YOU ABSOLUTE BUGGERS.”

Volume 11 again.

There’s a mad flutter of tiny wings, whatever it is that’s like-a-Dragon is making a bee-line straight for Jim.

SWOOOP

Blackspine swoops.

SAIL

Blackspine sails.

GLIDE

Blackspine glides.

Claws out ready to mess up the impertinent Human’s features, only no one can see it, it’s invisible.

But Newt can hear it.

“DUCK.” The Gnome screams at Jim.
“Where?” The Ranger turns to look back at Newt, slightly confused.

The movement is enough to make Blackspine miss his target, Jim’s face remember, the little dragon flaps heartily trying to arrest it’s dive- climbs a little.

SPLAT

And thumps into the cavern wall above Jim’s head.

“ME HEAD.” The voice is in their minds again.

A ten inch long Pseudo Dragon become visible, on the floor, stunned, only inches away from Jim’s right boot.

Cas slices, rips through a wing, Bec stabs and skewers the creature.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.”

The feedback squeal finds 12 on the volume dial.

“Please don’t hurt me. Please. I’m a prisoner, that’s it a prisoner, keep going- make it believable, I’ll tell you all I know. That’s got them- suck…”

Cas strides forward, hands up- peaceful, gets to the “O”, of, “OK”, when Bec nudges him aside and swings again.

BLINK

Followed by.

FLUTTER

The Pseudo Dragon disappears and makes a flap for dear life.

FWANG

Newt’s poisoned bolt plunges off into the darkness.

“I said…” Cas starts but Bec just pushes the Paladin out the way and strides past him.

“Tresh-ure.” The mini-hulk points up at a previously unseen ledge, it seems to have a crude nest atop it.

“Bec we can’t hang around, I know you’re pissed off, we’re all battered and bruised…” Ala plays peace maker.

“TRESH-URRRR.”

Bec growls, flecks of spittle spraying from his mouth.

“OK big guy.”

Newt wanders over, as Bec continues to seethe, gets to just below the nest and flings a grappling hook up, it catches first time.

“Tresh-Urrrrrrrrrr.”

Bec calms down a little.

The others give him a wide berth.

“Keep a look out, missile weapons people.” Cas gets back to business, although he glances back at Bec every now and then.

Back on the ground Ala expends more of her healing, the Healing Kits are spent, as are most of her spells.

The cavern is lit up like a Christmas tree, there are over half-a-dozen sunrods flaring, the shadows are all but gone.

A couple of minutes later Newt is back, loaded with goodies. They head back into the tunnel, post a guard while Anya casts Detect Magic, there are plenty of coins, some gems and jewellery, and a pair of magical bracers, and a potion, swiftly identified as Healing, Ala takes it, the rest is for distribution later.

Newt has pocketed a ring, for his troubles, for once though his eye is out, it’s the least valuable piece in the hoard.

They head off again.

“You OK?” Jim asks.
“San-wich.” Bec, half-heartedly, states.

The trek continues in silence, but not for long.

A little more than five minutes later the Gang emerge into another chamber, a little more cautious this time.

It’s huge, and there are no visible exits, at the northern end is a great black altar, a large black tome rests upon it, either side twisting pewter candelabras holding the lit stubs of fat black candles.

Hanging on the wall behind the altar are five human skeletons, arms manacled over their heads, each wears a rusty chain shirt and carries a longsword at its side.

“Whatchamacallit… Saaaaandwiiiiiiich.”

Bec charges.

Although none of the skeletons are animate.

SMASH

He shatters the first.

“BEKKKKKKKKKKKK.” Cas orders.

As the other Skeletons jump to their feet, wriggle from their bonds, and begin to unsheathe their swords.

“Oh Correllon hear my words, banish these foul…”

Ala intones, the four Skeletons are surrounded in a green haze, and in the blink of an eye-

CRACK

Are pulverised in an instant, reduced to piles of shattered bone.

Leaving Bec huffing and blowing, searching desperately for something else to destroy.

Newt is quickly at the altar, Anya in tow; she grabs the book, opens it, begins to read, shrugs once, then closes it again.

“That’s that then.”
“What’s that?” Cas asks.
“It’s Malchor’s diary, your landlord.”
“How do you know?” Cas struts over.
“It’s got his name on the inside of the cover, and… hang on.”

She flops the tome open, skips a few pages and reads.

“I Malchor, supplicant of Crypticus, do hereby swear to rid myself of the sainted, and unbelievably stupid, Lady Arabella, who has usurped my rightful place. I have made my pact and with my Dark Lord in order to rid myself, once-and-for-all, of this pesky child that taunts me daily with her inane blathering, I… Oh nearly forget, get eggs, pay the milkman- does he do yogurt?”

Anya closes the book.

“Satisfied?”

“I’ve found something.” Newt breaks the ice.

And indeed he has, the secret compartment in the altar swings open inside there are some coins- platinum, Newt whistles, two potions, quickly identified as Healing, and a beautifully crafted, and jewelled, Dagger- a silver-blue colour.

“Can I have this?” Newt asks, “please…”, politely.
“Yes.” Cas is on auto-pilot, it was the politely bit that threw him.
The others shrug, or nod, their agreement.

The potions are taken by Cas and Ala.

“I can’t believe that’s it…” Jim states.

As the secret door opens and into the room steps a well armed, and armoured Goblin, he looks all business and has a bow in his hands and an arrow notched.

Behind him an Elf, no what do you call them dark coloured Elves… Drow- that’s it. The Drow, male, looks to be a Wizard.

And in the same instant a Wolf suddenly appears, in the midst of the Goodman Gang.

Actually, ‘a Wolf’, doesn’t quite cover it.

The creature is five feet tall at the shoulder; its fur is as black as night, its eyes gleam, a similar light to the fires of hell.

Oh, and it has horns, nasty looking ones- are there any other kind?

FWONG

Jim grows an arrow, from the middle of his chest; he staggers backwards, flailing madly and finally… falls.

Next Turn: This is the End, My Friend.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​
Turn 35: This is the End, My Friend.

FWONG

A second arrow hurtles past Bec’s left ear.

The Fiendish Wolf snarls and leaps at the Barbarian, he leaps aside, reacts quickly, swings and slices, cuts a ugly gash in the creature, it seems not to mind at all.

Newt tumbles backwards, into a shadow or two, grabs a bolt, adds poison. 

“PelORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.”

While Cas charges towards the door, into the thick of it.

At the same time a Celestial Badger pops into existence in the doorway, bloody badgers get everywhere, Anya motions and the thing snarls and menaces the Goblin who spills his bow and quick-draws his rapier.

“For Correllon.”

Ala follows Cas into the fray.

Jim gets up quickly, winded- that’s all, stumbles over to help Bec, stabs at the Wolf and draws a drop or two of blood. The Wolf turns with amazing speed, snaps its jaws shut on the space Jim just inhabited, he’s too quick.

The Goblin, Goren, slashes wildly at the Celestial Badger but the creatures hide is too thick, the creature snaps at the Goblin’s heels.

In the same instance the Drow Wizard intones a single word-

“DOOOOOOMMMMMM.”

Points at Cas who struggles for a moment, he seems to be running through treacle, and then rushes on, although the weight of the world, and all his doubts and insecurities are now buzzing furiously in his mind.

Newt creeps in a little closer, crossbow at the ready, looking for the right time to strike.

“FIZZZZZZZZ.”

A sudden Flare of light before the Fiendish Wolf, the creature staggers back, momentarily blinded- Jim and Bec take full advantage, both score hits, the creature looks to be on its last legs.

The Celestial Badger is proving to be worth its weight in gold, Goren, the Goblin, falls back into the chamber beyond, constantly harried by the creature.

Which leaves the doorway clear for Cas, he bursts into the chamber beyond, the Drow Wizard stumbles back, quick draws a dagger, but too late, Cas slashes cuts the Dark Elf’s hand, although its nothing more than a scratch. The Drow slashes back, Cas dodges back and avoids the blow. Ala enters the fray, she swings forces the Drow back further into the chamber, her longsword passes only inches away from its face.

The Goblin gets his second wind, its rapier lances down and skewers the Celestial Badger, the creature fades into vapour and dust.

Newt creeps into the second chamber, he has a clear shot at Goren , the Goblin.

FWUNG

The bolt hits.

The Goblin screeches in pain and then something else.

The poison hits, Goren staggers and stumbles, now borne on bendy legs, the Goblin tries to flee, almost collapses but makes headway.

DM’s interlude Goren’s Strength at this point dropped to ‘4.’

Back in the first chamber, the one with the altar, Bec aims his blow, and neatly splints the Fiendish Wolf’s skull, it fades to smoke and vapour, leaving the Barbarian momentarily confused..

Cas swipes at the Drow Wizard who dodges back again- he’s nimble, light on his feet. Ala repeats the move, with the same effect. Anya charges into the doorway, takes in the scene.

A dry and slightly warm chamber, comfortable, natural light spills in from a passage to the east. A crude bed and a wooden writing table, littered with parchments, on the north wall, on the south wall crates and bales of straw, and a crude straw pallet.

Jim and Bec rush to the doorway, behind Anya, as the Goblin recalculates the odds, and flees east, caroming into the walls as his legs give way. 

The Drow Wizard slashes hard at Cas who dodges back.

“You’re all on your own, time to die.” Cas mocks, then remembering his Paladinhood adds, “or surrender?”

THUNG

Newt’s crossbow sings again, and the fleeing Goblin takes a bolt in the back, it staggers out of sight, only just amongst the living.

The Wizard attacks, stabs out with his dagger, the Paladin clangs his shield into the Drow’s arm, knocking the blade away and swings back with his longsword, the Wizard feints and gets away. Ala swipes again likewise to no effect. Jim however sees his chance, flanks the Drow and smashes his battle axe into its leg leaving a nasty rent in the creatures flesh.

The Drow hisses, seems more determined if anything, and stabs his dagger, deep, into Cas’ gut.

The Paladin staggers back, holding the spot, blood flows freely, he turns white, and yet it’s not the wound.

Cas’ head already full of dark biting creatures- his doubts and worries amplified by the Doom spell, is rocked, no… make that Cursed.

He sags, stoops, fights the weight on his shoulders, the angry pain, the buzz-saw in his brain, desperate he flounders, flails, and screams.

“PEL-ORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.”

Light floods into him, his ragged wound instantly closes.

He smiles at the Drow Wizard.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Bec completes the circle, they’ve surrounded the creature.

“Surrender?” Cas asks.

“To go back to what?” The Drow spits.

And launches himself at Cas, it seems all the Wizard is doing is trying to touch Cas, but the Paladin is much too quick. Ala, Jim, Cas and Bec take it in turn to poke, slash, stab and flail, the circle surrounding the enraged Drow expands and contracts as the creature leaps, jumps and dodges. And yet for all their efforts not one hit is scored.

The action ceases, the Drow puts his hand up.

“Wait.”

He seems to be catching his breath, either that or thinking about surrender.

“Bec wait.” Cas warns, the Barbarian stares hard at the Paladin but holds his position.

“Who the hell are you?” Cas asks.

The Drow stands tall, smiles at the Paladin.

“You don’t know that?”

He roars with laughter, causing several of the gang to instinctively back away.

Seeing his opportunity the Drow quick-draws a Healing Potion and swigs the contents down, his wounds are almost all healed.

FWUNG

A crossbow bolt, courtesy of Newt enters the mix, snicks against the stone floor and careens on causing Bec to take evasive action.

The Barbarian glares at the Gnome, then lurches towards the Drow, swings and misses by a mile. Ala and Jim have better aims; both score hits, although, again, they’re no more than scratches. Cas doesn’t get the opportunity as the Drow again lunges for him causing him to take all out defence.

“Surrender?” Cas tries again, after all he is the good guy.
“No.” The Drow Wizard grins back; after all he is the bad guy.

The whirlwind starts up again.

FWUNG

It begins with Newt burying six inches of steel in the Drow’s back, and ends with Bec’s longsword slicing a chunk out of the Drow’s side- the Wizard suddenly looks very unwell.

The Drow stoops low, blood drips onto the cavern floor- he breathes hard, the circle waits again.

“Surrender?” Cas just wants it on record.

The Drow looks up, straightens a little, then shakes his head.

Bec steps in and slices, the Drow tries to dodge, but much too slow, staggers, nearly folds, more blood flows.

“Surrender?” Cas is almost pleading.

The Drow looks up at him holds his gaze as long as he can, before folding, sinking to his knees, head only inches from the cold cavern floor the Dark Elf nods.

The Wizard slumps forward, nothing more than a ragged bleeding compact pile on the cavern floor.

The Goodman Gang breathe hard and go to sheath their weapons.

Next Turn: Just Rewards.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​
Turn 36: Just Rewards.

The Drow Wizard shimmers for a second and is gone.

And in his place is Malchor, the owner of the Wellow Inn, his magical Disguise Self spell is over.

“Malchor… You…” Cas begins.

But the Innkeeper doesn’t stir.

“He’s dead, let’s fleece him, grab what we can and get back to the Church.” Newt heads off to check out the papers on the desk, Anya follows him over.

Cas wanders over to the Innkeeper’s body, bends to start his search.

Malchor’s head shoots up, the Healing Potion- now empty, falls from his grasp.

“HA HA HA. You’ll have to try harder than that.”

He touches Cas, barely brushes his leg.

Cas screams, like a little girl.

“My eyes.”

It feels like acid burning his eyeballs, he staggers back flailing wildly, and then suddenly stops. The other members of the Goodman Gang turn and instinctively draw weapons- ready again for the fight.

Cas blinks once or twice, arms out before him, staggers forward testing the air with his hands, his feet inching forward, scuffing the ground, making sure of the surface.

He stops.

Grins.

“No, you’ll have to do better than that.”
“You bastard.”

Malchor leaps to his feet, dagger back in hand.

The Goodman Gang dive back into the fray again, Jim slashes with his axe gouges a deep furrow in the Innkeeper’s chest, Malchor grits his teeth, the pain, and slashes back- cutting Jim badly across his face. Blood gushes from the wound; Jim staggers backwards his face pure horror show.


Ala is quickly to him, spills her sword, and pumps Healing into the screaming Ranger.

THwung

Newt’s bolt hits an invisible barrier, Malchor’s Shield of Faith, he begins to coat another bolt with poison

“Come onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.”

The Innkeeper screams, the adventurers take another step back, widening the circle around him.

Except for Bec.

Who rushes forward.

Swings his two handed sword with all his might.

And cuts Malchor clean in two.

“Shut up, I mean, Sandwich.”

The Barbarian looks around at the other adventurers; they seem not to have noticed his speech.

“Thank feck he’s dead.”

Newt sums up their feelings succinctly.

The Gnome sets to, spots a metal strongbox under the bed, drags it out and gets on with opening it.

The other adventurers spread out to thoroughly search the chamber, and yet return having found nothing of interest, even the papers on the table are blank sheets of parchment.

“Arrrgghh.”

Newt withdraws his hand quickly, the poison pulses from the needle protruding from the end of his finger, he feels… weak.

“You OK?” Ala is quickly there to help.
“Poisoned.” Newt shows the spot.
“We need to get you to the Church.” Cas cuts in.
“Money first.” Newt nods at the chest.

And thirty seconds later, and still being supervised by Ala and Cas, he springs the chest open. There’s a pile of coins, gems and jewellery within.

Soon after the gang trudge out, down the passage, and emerge from a river bank running through a farmer’s field, a little way south of Gleethorpe. It’s a straight road, actually no more than a farmer’s track, back into the village, and passed the Wellow Inn, which they avoid for now.

Thirty minutes later the sextet are back in the centre of Grimbo, at St. Jimbo’s, the Church of Pelor, and before Father Whiskin.

Cas’ curse has been lifted, a small matter, a simple ceremony by Father Whiskin and Cas is free from taint, but now the Priest is shaking his head.

“Lycanthropy…” He sucks his teeth.
Ala and Cas plead with their eyes.
“There’s three of us need the cure… Do you have anything?” Cas asks.
Ala hopes, she’s one of the three that maybe infected.

Behind them Newt waves faintly and then collapses- very poisoned, although it’s quickly established his life is not in danger, he’s found a temporary bed.

“Well there’s Wolfsbane…” Father Whiskin offers.
“Will that work?” Ala worries.
“It should, probably… Pelor willing.” The Priest trails off.
Cas nods.

Ala, Jim and Bec are ushered further into the Church, made comfortable in a side room; a pair of acolytes appear and the Wolfsbane is administered, and a minor sedative- it doesn’t take much to put the three to sleep.

“Pelor will watch over them here, they’re safe.” Father Whiskin clutches Cas’ arm, Ala sweats and twitches as an acolyte mops her brow. “Wolfsbane is a poison, they’ll have a fever for a while, we’ll see to them, go… You need to tell the authorities what you’ve found.”

And so Cas and Anya depart- straight to Lady Arabella’s residence, Cas knows the way.

An hour later the pair find themselves in a once serious looking dark oak panelled office, now complete with a collection of dolls from every nation, a very large make-up bag, and an unfeasibly tall pair of patent leather stiletto shoes atop the desk. Behind which sits Lady Arabella, lost in her fathers massive chair.

“NO.” She plunges through a dozen or more expressions- shock, horror, terror, fear, confusion, wanton, trepidation, et al. 

Cas and Anya continue with their story.

“NO.” And again with the exaggerated facial expressions.

Till finally she flings herself around the desk and at Cas’ feet, she claws her way up, pawing at him as she goes.

“Owwwww my brave Cassy. Owww how absolutely awful, you must have been so frightened, oh but no. No. You know no fear, don’t you Cassy-wassy… You’re so fearless… So… without erm fear.”

She’s rubbing his arm, thigh, chest, arm again- his bicep, her eyes glisten, she licks her lips. She moves onto his thigh, perches there.

“So very hard, I mean… brave.”

Cas gets up very quickly, Lady Arabella thumps onto the floor, it seems her hand may have strayed somewhere off limits. Cas is beetroot red.

“Ahem, I think we should get off now, we should report this to the appropriate authorities.” Cas clicks his heels, turns around, and then swiftly back, bows and helps a smiling Lady Arabella back to her feet.

“Arabella.” Cas nods and then strides off, with a pronounced limp.

Anya watches on, less than amused.

Lady Arabella readjusts her dress, leans back on her father’s desk and grins at the retreating Paladin’s back; actually it’s his bottom she’s staring at.

“Lady Arabella?” Anya approaches, “our reward.”

Arabella’s reverie is broken; she shuffles around the desk, opens a draw, hefts a large purse of money onto it, mutters “thanks”, and rushes over to the window to watch Cas’ awkward retreat. She never looks once at Anya.

“I’ll leave this with you.” Anya reveals the huge tome found on the altar, Malchor’s diary, but Arabella doesn’t even signal she has heard.

“He killed your father.”

That gets her attention, Lady Arabella turns, her hand shoots out, she grabs at the back of a chair to steady herself.

“I’m sorry, really. I know what it’s like to lose a parent…”

Anya flees the scene, the sound of Lady Arabella’s tears echo through the huge empty house. 

A little while later at Grimbo Police Station, on Vicky Street, Cas sits at a desk in an interview room and tells his tale again.

“Right, and who gave you permission to investigate this matter?” Captain Khan enquires.

Cas looks non-plussed for a second, then states clearly, “Lady Arabella Ross, who I believe, is the Council Member for Gleethorpe.”

“Hmmm.” The good Captain smiles.
“Leave it with us… we’ll investigate.”

And stands and makes to leave.

“That’s it?” Cas is less than impressed.

“Hmmm. Oh… Thanks.” Khan smirks and limply proffers his hand. 

Cas is up and out of the Police Station almost before his chair hits the ground.

Khan watches the paladin leave from a window, the door behind him opens, he doesn’t turn round, only stiffens slightly- alert.

“So that’s him?”
“Yes, sir.” Khan replies.
“How did he seem?”
“Angry, sir?” Khan hopes he has the right answer.
“Good… Good, that’ll do for now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Khan…”
“Sir?”
“Keep an eye on them, all of them.”
“Yes sir, I’ll…” Khan turns to discover he’s alone in the room, suddenly confused, he can’t remember the sound of the door shutting, strange, he thinks.

Next Turn: Review


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #11
The Dragonfiend Pact
For 2nd Level Characters​
Turn 36a

Overall score out of 10: 8.4
Play time: Approx 4 happy hours.

Review: 

They bloody loved it, the session flew by and in the end they just wanted more of the same. There’s not a lot to say in this section of the review, it needs to be noted however that every bad guy, and trap, and encounter encouraged the players to try something, anything, everything- the scenario may be short but it’s expertly structured.

The overall scenario is easy to DM and excellent to play, partially perhaps because it is so short, and intense, the use of the Improved Reduce Person potions was just fantastic. Not since a scenario in one of the early issues of Imagine Magazine- “Down the Plughole”, or some such, someone put me right. They, and I, loved it- the final fight was just a winner.

Notes and Quotes:

Bec and the Water Snake- an excellent start reducing the Tank-fighter to a frightened wreck trying to escape the water, good use of the environment to get the players out of their comfort zone.

Newt versus the Advanced Medium Monstrous Trapdoor Spider, straightforward, and yet for almost no reward, and with surprise- the glint of gold luring the Rogue in. Excellent again.

The traps were all good, particularly as Newt found every one of them and then spectacularly failed to disarm two of them, and yet emerged unscathed.

A pack of Dwarven Zombies allowed Ala to shine, the jigsaw puzzle that when completed revealed the Dwarves Contract helped the players to discover a little of what lay ahead. Also typical when Miss P. stated- “Didn’t you say your landlord was called Malchor, well that’s an anagram of Chloram.” It took her less than five seconds to see the truth of it- which was a little disappointing at the time but proved less of a problem by the end.

The Dire Badger proved to be a good fight, it’s the fact that the creature was not dispatched in seconds, and managed to land some blows of its own, that, as opposed to the flailing tin can Kobolds in the last scenario.

And then into Tarn’s chamber, with a Rat Swarm to get through, which was excellent, from a story telling perspective, clearly the point-of-no-return. The fact that the Werebadger inflicted so much damage on them, and then got away only spurred them on.

The moment they worked out that they were going to get shrunk to fit the tunnels they were overjoyed, something new. It took us forty five minutes to get all the stats right on the character sheets but it was well worth it, the wait only made the players more excited at the prospect.

A bunch of rats were easily despatched- a false dawn as it proves.

And they’re into the Badger’s Lair, with Tarn the Werebadger in full affect, and once again the confrontation is momentous, players are spending a good ten seconds cupping and pre-rolling their dice, muttering encouraging words into the cave of their hands.

It’s important.

Then on to the River Crossing and the Cave Trout, as always it’s Ala that falls in, she’s not even got the worst Climb skill- and yet it’s always her, no problems here though- lulling the players into a false sense of security for the later crossing.

The Giant Worker Ants were quickly dealt with, as were the Fire Beetles, these encounters just helped to chip away at the player’s resources- keeping them on their toes.

The final chasm crossing with the Choker really put the wind up them, especially as it was Ala again- the fact that she lost her favourite sword, and Newt his crossbow also seemed to rile the party members. Whatever was at the end of the scenario was definitely for it.

Another cracker with Blackspine, the nasty Advanced Fiendish Pseudo-dragon Sorcerer 1, with limited resources the creature managed to trip them up, actually frazzle them a bit, and still escape in the end to fight again another day. The telepathy also made the encounter much more fun.

And then just a bunch of Skeletons and Malchor’s diary, but what’s this, a Drow and a Goblin, not at all what the players expected, and the fight was hard, particularly as Malchor (the Drow) got off a few spells, and a Curse, via his dagger onto Cas. At the end the players were giving the Drow, then Malchor, perhaps a little more respect than his AC and Hit Points perhaps justified; but that was down to the build up. 

A lovely moment when Malchor caught Mr. R. (Cas) with another spell, Blindness and for a moment cas thought he’d failed his save, especially after Doom and Curse.

And then Newt’s Strength is reduced to “1” after he messes up opening the strongbox. They knew they’d been in a fight.

Overall it was easily the best Goodman Games Module we’ve played so far, although it’s only the third we’ve played- they really did enjoy the constant battle to get though the dungeon, a nice array of traps and tricks, a good selection of monsters, and the twist of being turned into Diddymen part the way through.

Bloody marvellous, more please.

Next Turn: Freddy and the…


----------



## Dr Simon

May I just chip in and add my voice to those who enjoy these Story Hours, Goonalon. I'm quite a fan of the DCC adventures and I own a few of the ones that you've run (Dragonfiend Pact, Legend of the Ripper, Mysterious Tower) so I'm interested in how your experiences turn out.

I'm liking the style, which makes a nice change from some of the more portentous and prose dense story hours out there (although the lightness of touch, especially in the Lost Boys, is disturbingly at odds with Brad Durif's baleful glare in your avatar).

Anyway, Dragonfiend Pact is a nice little adventure, especially for the price (One of our English Pounds). Like you I found that re-adjusting the stats upon shrinkage took a while (but that was before I started writing the Lazy GM books, I can probably quote size change effects off by heart now).

Looks to me like Blackspine has the potential for a recurring character - any plans?


----------



## Goonalan

Quote:

May I just chip in and add my voice to those who enjoy these Story Hours, Goonalon. I'm quite a fan of the DCC adventures and I own a few of the ones that you've run (Dragonfiend Pact, Legend of the Ripper, Mysterious Tower) so I'm interested in how your experiences turn out.

I'm liking the style, which makes a nice change from some of the more portentous and prose dense story hours out there (although the lightness of touch, especially in the Lost Boys, is disturbingly at odds with Brad Durif's baleful glare in your avatar).

Reply:

Brad Durif for me is the Doc of Deadwood, a kindly soul that dispenses homilies and medication in equal amounts, also I believe Wyrmtongue, or whatever his name was, is a misunderstood character that just needed a little more TLC than Saruman had to offer.

Quote:

Anyway, Dragonfiend Pact is a nice little adventure, especially for the price (One of our English Pounds). Like you I found that re-adjusting the stats upon shrinkage took a while (but that was before I started writing the Lazy GM books, I can probably quote size change effects off by heart now).

Looks to me like Blackspine has the potential for a recurring character - any plans?

Reply:

Maybe, I can't really say, that's how it is when the players sometimes come here (the SH) in search of clues, and also to ensure their characters got the odd half-decent line.

Thanks for the comments, always a pleasure.

And so...

Oh and I can't do those quote things, if some kind person would kindly tell me the secret, well... I'll write you in to the story.

Turn 37: Freddy and the…

Anya sits on Bec’s knee, he dandles her a while, she smiles and grins- the sound of her laughter is sweet soothing music.

Bec switches tack, a rougher ride on his lap, plays horsey- over the high hurdles- Anya jumps up and down on his lap- giggling furiously, gulping for air.

Bec shuts his eyes.

Then opens them again, and sitting on his lap is not Anya but the largest half-Man half-Rat type creature he has ever seen, actually he’s never seen one before and so the title is undisputed.

The creature stares hard at him.

Unblinking.

Bec ceases the horsey ride, a little embarrassed.

Then with lightning speed the creature lurches down and bites him in the face, and tugs- Bec screams. The creature comes away with a gobbet of flesh dangling from its blood-soaked mouth. Bec’s eye mid-section of the flopping piece of flesh- the creature gobbles the snack down.

Bec stares, in mono-vision.

But does nothing to prevent the second bite.

It goes dark.

And he’s awake.

And still in the Church of Pelor, over the way Jim tosses and turns, mumbles in his sleep.

Ala’s bed is empty.

Back in the Wheatsheaf Inn Cas and Ala enjoy their first night together. Ala’s fever broke three days ago but it was only today that she was allowed to leave the Church, declared fit for action.

Their silhouettes move together, caught in shadow on the thin curtains, outside a driver clicks his tongue and a coach and horses moves off from its position directly outside of the window.

Inside the dark coach Lady Arabella drums her fingers on an ornate lacquered rosewood armrest.

“Keep an eye on them.”

She whispers, to a previously unseen, and still, shadowy figure.

Back in the Church Bec wanders out of his prison for the last two weeks, goes in search of… well, a sandwich.

He finds the kitchen quickly and sets to- bread is introduced to butter, quite a lot of it actually, then to Jam- thick Apricot, then gets acquainted with Cheese, a smelly Dwarven Ched-Dar, which then makes friends with a layer of Gnomish Pickle, which in turn… and on it goes.

The construct is at least six inches high when complete.

Bec’s heavy hands scoop the creation up, expertly, he swivels the sandwich in his hands- looking for the best point of attack.

CHOMP

He chews.

And chews.

And chews.

And…

Chews.

And then straining hard swallows.

Then wipes his mouth leaving, momentarily, a sticky trail down the back of his hand and arm, he licks the residue off.

“Bloody lovely. I wonder what’s in the paper.”

He takes another huge bite, and then wanders off to see if he can hunt the Grimbo Graph, the local newspaper, down.

Whereas…

Jim is running through the woods, pell-mell, helter-skelter, trees and branches come and go- to be avoided, he whizzes past them, ducking, diving- clawing his way onwards- racing.

Not daring to look behind him.

He can hear his pursuer.

Gaining.

He wakes, stares around him for a moment, alone, he claws the air, goes to speak- but no sound comes out, his eyes blink rapidly and…

He runs on.

A wolf howls, far away, in the distance, not behind him though, not chasing him.

A fallen log, he spots it too late, leaps, catches his right foot, flies forward, out of control, lands hard and sprawls upon the cold damp earth.

And his pursuer is on him, knelt on his back, pushing him down, hands on the back of his head, pressing his face into the dirt, he can’t breath, can’t breath, can’t breath.

He throws all his strength into his turn, wrenches himself around, spins over to face his pursuer.

Mischa grins down at him.

Night turns into day in an instance, then to night again, and to day again, and on and on- time strobes by.

And leaves no trace on Mischa’s features, she’s as beautiful as ever.

Jim tries to rise, but is staggered by Mischa’s weight, he clamps his hands on the ground either side of him, levers to lift himself up, he heaves.

Then mid-lift he stops to look at the backs of his hands- gnarled and crooked, liver spots and scar tissue, he’s ancient- he collapses, gulps for breath.

And wakes again.

The door to his chamber opens.

A large lumbering shadowy figure lurches in, an Ogre by the look of the thing, licking its lips with glee.

Jim flings himself back, still breathing hard- ragged gasps, he tries to get away from the creature, pressed hard against the wall.

The thing bobs down to his level and moves closer, hands out towards Jim, petrified he cannot scream.

The remnants of a less than savoury looking sandwich hoves into view, then the rest of a grinning mustard, jam and pickle plastered Bec.

“Sandwich?”

Bec offers.

Gingerly Jim takes a nibble.

“Jam and cheese?” The Ranger pulls a face.

Bec nods, wise in the ways of sandwich making.

Two weeks later and everything is as normal, all of the Goodman Gang are staying in the Wheatsheaf Inn, things have been Identified, sold and bought, including mounts for all of them, even Newt, who is the proud owner of a somewhat cantankerous Mule called “Dobbin.”

Arabella sends several invitations to Cas, on the pretence of attending various Balls and Galas but the Paladin is not playing, most nights are early nights, it seems he and Ala are really good friends at last.

Newt is making friends; he’s now a regular on the Nunny, a minor personality, not dangerous, but not to be messed with, the latter mainly because of his sometime companion Bec. 

The fool Barbarian goes as far as to foil a bag-snatcher on one occasion, much to the Gnome’s chagrin, fortunately it turns out the felon was unregistered and so no action is taken by The Nunny- he even receives a small reward. Newt leaves Bec at home when he can, sneaks out of the Inn if he has to.

Anya throws herself into her studies, there’s no such thing as spare time with Anya- she’s making a name for herself in the Department of Magics, at Grimbo College, Professor Nudge Toomes can clearly see her potential.

For the others- and particularly Bec and Jim, having spent the best part of three weeks lying on the backsides, time passes very slowly indeed- they’re bored.

And so it’s a blessed relief when Father Whiskin appears one morning at the Wheatsheaf, out of breath and with quite a story to tell.

Next Turn: Catch Up.


----------



## Pedestrian

Goonalan said:
			
		

> Oh and I can't do those quote things, if some kind person would kindly tell me the secret




Type [ quote ] text you want to quote [ / quote ] but without the spaces. If you want to show a name, then in the first [ quote ] box, put an "=" after "quote" and type the name.

Alternatively, press the Quote button at the bottom of the post you would like to quote.


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## Goonalan

Loup Du Noir said:
			
		

> Type [ quote ] text you want to quote [ / quote ] but without the spaces. If you want to show a name, then in the first [ quote ] box, put an "=" after "quote" and type the name.
> 
> Alternatively, press the Quote button at the bottom of the post you would like to quote.




He he- ridiculously simple, thanks for that, me and computers- tsk.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Goonalan said:
			
		

> The overall scenario is easy to DM and excellent to play, partially perhaps because it is so short, and intense, the use of the Improved Reduce Person potions was just fantastic. Not since a scenario in one of the early issues of Imagine Magazine- “Down the Plughole”, or some such, someone put me right.




Well, since you asked ...

It was actually called "Round the Bend" - the Gamesfair '84 AD&D Team Competition Module - and was reproduced in Imagine No 15 (June 1984). Five half-orc thieves (if you use the pre-gens) caught by a wizard, are shrunk and sent down the drains to recover an _eye of minute seeing_.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Oh, and I forgot to say - Good stuff again, Goonalan. Keep it up.


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## Goonalan

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> Well, since you asked ...
> 
> It was actually called "Round the Bend" - the Gamesfair '84 AD&D Team Competition Module - and was reproduced in Imagine No 15 (June 1984). Five half-orc thieves (if you use the pre-gens) caught by a wizard, are shrunk and sent down the drains to recover an _eye of minute seeing_.




I remember DMing it all those years ago, right for the bonus point what was the name of the scenario that appeared in Dungeon magazine that I think involved shrunken PCs and a giant house/cottage- something like that anyway?

Thanks as always.

And so...

Dungeon Crawl Classic #14
Dungeon Interludes
Chapter 1: The Eye of the Night
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 38: Catch Up.

“Jim” Bowen​
Human Male Ranger Level 2 
NG HP 23 AC 18 Init +2
Str 14 Dex 15 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 12 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +6 Ref +4 Will +2
+1 Battleaxe (family heirloom) +5 d8+3 
Longbow (Masterwork Mighty (+2)) +5 d8+2 or Rapid Fire +3/+3  
Dagger, Silver +4 or +4 d4+2
Armour: Griffin insignia Masterwork Breastplate and Large Masterwork Wooden Shield.

Feats: Skill Focus (Trapmaking), Point Blank Shot, Track, Favoured Enemy- Dire Animals, Ranger Two-Weapon Fighting & Ambidexterity, Rapid Shot. 

Skills of note: Animal Empathy +4 Climb +4 Craft (Trapmaking) +6 Handle Animal +4 Hide +6 Jump +5 Knowldege (Nature) +3 Listen +4 Move Silently +6 Spot +3 Wilderness Lore +6

Items of note: Potion Cure Lt x4; Potion Darkvision; Cloak of Resistance +1.

Light Warhorse “Sarge” & associated kit and caboodle.

Bec​
Human Male Barbarian Level 2
CG HP 31 AC 15 Init +1
Str 18 Dex 12 Con 18 Int 11 Wis 8 Ch 9 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +1 Will -1
Long Spear +6 d8+6  
Dagger +6 or +3 d4+4
Greatclub +6 d10+6
Longsword Masterwork +7 d8+4 (usually with Large Wooden Shield)
Greatsword Masterwork Cold Iron +7 2d6+6
Armour: Studded Leather Masterwork, sometimes Large Wooden Shield.

Feats: Toughness, Power Attack, Rage, Cleave & Uncanny Dodge.

Skills of note: Climb +9 Concentration +4 Jump +8 Ride +3 Spot +3 Swim +8 Use Rope +4

Items of note: Climbers Kit, Potion Cure Lt x4, Potion Blur, Bracers of Armour +1.

Heavy Warhorse “Kaul” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Lord Casimir​
Human Male Paladin of Pelor Level 2 
LG HP 23 AC 19 Init +1
Str 15 Dex 13 Con 14 Int 14 Wis 11 Ch 14 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +3 Will +4
+1 Longsword Cold Iron +5 d8+3 
Longbow +3 d8 
Light Mace +4 d6+2
Armour: Shiny Breastplate +1 & Sparkling Large Masterwork Steel Shield

Feats: Negotiator, Dodge, Mobility, Detect Evil, Lay on Hands, Divine Health, Smite Evil, Aura of Courage.

Skills of note: Concentration +3 Diplomacy +9 Handle Animal +6 Knowledge (History) +5 Knowledge (Local) +7 Knowledge (Religion) +6 Ride +5 Sense Motive +6 Spot +4 

Items of note: 3 Flasks of Holy Water, 5 Silver Arrows, Potion of Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion of Vision, Healing Kit.

Light Warhorse “Reggie” & associated kit and caboodle.

Anya’Drea​
Human Female Wizard Level 2 
CG HP 14 AC 15 Init +5
Str 10 Dex 13 Con 12 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 17 
Saves Fort +1 Ref +1 Will +3
Quarterstaff Masterwork +2 d6 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +3 d8
Dagger Silver +1 or +2 d4
Armour: Leather Armour, Ring of Protection +1, Bracers of Armour +1

Feats: Skill Focus (Use Magic Device), Armour Proficiency (Light), Improved Initiative, Scribe Scroll, Toughness. 

Skills of note: Alchemy +5 Appraise +3 Bluff +3 Concentrate +6 Craft (Model) +3 Decipher Script +7 Diplomacy +3 Disguise +3 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +5 Intimidate +3 Knowledge (Arcane) +8 Knowledge (Architecture & Engineering) +4 Knowledge (Geography) +4 Knowledge (Nature) +4 Listen +4 Move Silently +3 Perform (Vogue) +3 Scry +5 Search +3 Spellcraft +8 Use Magic Device +10

Familiar, actually Follower (of sorts) Swish, Animated Broom.

Spells: 	Lvl 0 (4) All; 
Lvl 1 (4) Shield, Mage Armour, Mount, Summon Monster I, Unseen Servant, Detect Secret Doors, Detect Undead, Identify, Magic Missile, Colour Spray, Cause Fear, Expeditious Retreat, Shocking Grasp, Spider Climb.

Items of note: Scrolls- not so many of them as before, Wand of Burning Hands (Level 3- 23 Charges); Potion Cure Lt. x4, Potion of Intelligence, Pearl of Power (lvl 1), Necklace of Fireballs Type I, 2 Bags of Caltrops; 6 Tindertwigs, 10 Sunrods.

Pipes of the Sewer’s identified but don’t know the tune.

“Swish” Animated Broom companion AC15 Mv30 Init+2 +1 Slam d4 Hardness 5 Fort +0 Ref +2 Will -5

Light Warhorse “Mr. Fizz” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Newt​
Gnome Male Rogue Level 2
NG HP 15 AC 19 Init +3
Str 11 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +2 Ref +6 Will +2
Heavy Mace Masterwork +3 d6 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +6 d6
+1 Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) of Spell Storing (Shocking Grasp D8+2) +3 D4+1
Adamantine Ceremonial Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) +2 D4
Dagger Masterwork Silver +3 or +6 d3
Armour: +1 Chain Shirt

Feats: Nimble Fingers, Low Light Vision, +1 To Hit vs. Goblinoids and Kobolds, +4 Dodge vs. Giants, Point Blank Shot, Evasion.

Skills of note: Alchemy +10 Appraise +5 Balance +7 Climb +4 Craft (Locksmith) +5 Decipher Script +5 Disable Device +10 Escape Artist +4 Forgery +3 Hide +10 Intimidate +3 Jump +5 (+35 with Ring of Jumping) Listen +7 Move Silently +8 Open Lock +10 Pick Pocket +4 Read Lips +5 Ride (Pony) +3 Scry +3 Search +8 Spot +5 Tumble +4 Use Rope +3

Spells: Ghost Sound, Dancing Lights, Prestidigitation & Speak with Burrowing Animals.

Items of note: Silk Climbing Rope, 10 Tindertwigs, 3 Thunderstones, 2 Tanglefoot bags, 10 Sunrods, 2 Smoke Sticks, 5 Alchemist’s Fire, Thieves Tools Masterwork, 5 Silver tipped Bolts, 12 Masterwork Bolts, 3 Flasks of Acid, Potion Cure Lt x5, Potion Spider Climb x2, Ring of Jumping.

War Pony “Dobbin” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Ala​
Elf Female Cleric Level 2 
NG HP 17 AC 21 Init +3
Str 14 Dex 17 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 17 Ch 13 
Saves Fort +4 Ref +3 Will +6
Longsword Masterwork +5 d8+2
Composite Longbow Masterwork Mighty (+2) +5 d8+2
Dagger Silver +3 or +4 d4+2
Light Flail +3 d6+2 
Armour: Chain Shirt Masterwork, Large Masterwork Steel Shield & Ring of Protection +2

Feats: Point Blank Shot, Weapon Focus (Longsword), Turn Undead (4/day).

Skills of note: Balance +3 Concentration +3 Diplomacy +3 Escape Artist +3 Heal +7 Hide +3 Listen +5 Move Silently +3 Ride (Horse) +3 Sense Motive +3 Spot +5 Use Rope +3 Wilderness Lore +3

Spells: Lvl 0 (4) Lvl 1 (4)
Domains: War & Good.

Items of note: 2 Healer’s Kits, Scroll Protection from Elements, Potion Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion Cure Moderate Wounds, Scroll Hold Person & Deeper Darkness.

Light Riding Horse “Slim” & associated kit and caboodle.

Note to present more of a challenge, I thought they’d been finding things a little too easy so far, I followed the instructions within the module booklet to scale the adventure for “stronger parties.” Let’s see how they like that…

Next Turn: Molton Clay.


----------



## Goonalan

And so here we go again...

Dungeon Crawl Classic #14
Dungeon Interludes
Chapter 1: The Eye of the Night
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 39: Molton Clay.

Father Whiskin scurries into the Inn and towards the assembled group, they knew he was coming; the Innkeeper had been good enough to share the news at breakfast. 

“Just got a note- Urgent, be ready to travel, and to fight, will be there as soon as I can. That’s all it said, figured you’d understand.”

And now here he is, bundling Cas up and urging the others into a private curtained alcove within the Inn.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” The good Father’s in a rush.

The group head for the secluded booth.

“I need your help, its Molton Clay, a village about eight miles south west of the city, they make pots there, there are a few farms, and a commune. Anyway all’s not well, they need your help. There’s no money in it, at least very little- will you do it?”
Cas looks a little put out at the mention of money, “of course we will.”
“Do what?” Ala asks, Anya nods behind her.
“The place has been attacked, destroyed, from what I’ve heard, I need you to go and find out what’s going on there, what’s left- if anything.”
The adventurers are in, they’ll do it, they’ve all benefited, at one time or another, from the Church of Pelor’s help.

Cas dives to his feet, ready to roll, Father Whiskin grabs his arm.

“Look for Thistle, you’ll know him when you see him, he’s a Druid, a good… man. Find him and you’ll find the truth. Pelor bless you, all of you, now go- ride like the wind.”

Thirty minutes later, along a narrow track, the six speed, their horses flat out, as fast as they can go, which isn’t very fast for Dobbin, Newt’s mount. They ride into a scene of destruction.

It’s still early morning, the suns rays beat down upon what was once the village of Molton Clay, the crops have been razed, the barns toppled, the buildings now nothing more than burnt out shells, blood and bodies litter the roads and fields.

The riders come to a halt, swiftly survey the area, then walk on.

The stench of the dead is the first thing that hits them. Masks are improvised, the horses however remain nervous, they skitter and paw at the ground, there are tracks everywhere.

Jim gets down to take a look, leads his mount forward, nobody feels like talking. The adventurers stick together as they wander through what was the centre of the settlement. Blackened husks of men and women litter the street, it seems they’re all dead, a village gone- flies buzz, rats gnaw and skitter from corpse to corpse, there are signs of larger wild animals having passed this way.

Jim breaks the silence.

“There were lots of them, humans, armed and armoured- it was a raiding party of some sort, many of them were mounted, wild horses by the look of it- could have been Ullies.”

Ullies, or Ully Gullies, are the inhabitants of Ull, in Umberside, a more autonomous than most state within the United Kingdoms, north of the Umber Estuary. Actually the ‘United’ bit is an awful misnomer, the Kingdoms in general pay no more than lip service to the sentiment. Umberside’s chief export is violence, raiding parties however are uncommon, rare this far into Lincornshire, that said there are still enough wildlands to hide a small army in these parts. 

And yet, after a further twenty minutes of wandering, Jim has something more to say.

“There’s something odd here, some of these tracks are older, something must have sparked the violence, I think the attack came later, a smaller force- no more than a dozen came here two or more days ago.”

Jim moves to a section of hard mud still holding the impression of horses and men, by a burnt tethering post, in front of the largest burnt out building within Molton Clay- probably the Inn.

Ala climbs down from her horse, begins to snoop around, in search of bodies, she doesn’t have far to go- she examines the corpse of a young woman, then an older man.

“They were killed with all manner of weapons- clubs, swords, bows, crossbows, the attackers were a rag tag bunch- the people tried to flee, they were cut down in the streets.”

“See there.” Jim points to a pile of furniture in the street, charred and broken; he points to another, and another.

“They were looking for something; they must have made the villagers clear out their homes, whatever it was they were looking for I guess they didn’t find it, or else...”

Jim stops to stare at the devastation.

“It must have been terrible.” He shivers; a breeze blows down the street, dust swirls and spirals, a rent and bloody shirt gusts and billows by.

“Hel…”

“What was that?”

Newt sits up on Dobbin, leans an ear into the wind.

“Help”

The sound comes again, but only loud enough for Gnomish ears to hear.

“Giddy-up.”

Newt spurs Dobbin into a fast-ish walk. The others follow quickly behind, Ala back on her horse, wiping the tears from her eyes. They’re soon out the other side of the settlement, heading down a still muddy track towards the remains of the nearest farm.

“Help.”

Newt digs his heels into Dobbin, the mule protests and then breaks into a mincing trot. The others, although blessed with faster mounts, tag on behind- not wanting to disrupt Newt’s concentration; he’s on the right route.

“Help please…”

Newt and Dobbin swiftly veer off from the dirt path, head towards the only building still standing, a Barn.

“There.”

Newt stands in his stirrups and points, towards a body propped against one of the outer walls of the structure. Although its Newts discovery Ala and Cas are first on the scene.

“Take it easy.” Cas grasps the dying farmers hand.
Ala is making a thorough examination, the warm glow from her healing hands spreads through the villager, he coughs loudly, then opens his eyes.

“Help me please…”

Cas nods while Bec bundles the rag-doll farmer up into his arms. They find shelter, the Barn doesn’t look safe, so they settle for the one room remaining in the farmhouse.

“Give him water, make a fire- make soup, he needs warmth, blankets.”

An hour later, in the ravaged wreck of his former house, his smashed possessions surrounding him, ghosts of his dead family all about him, the broken farmer alternatively cries and tells his tale.

“They came three day ago, a dozen of them, to the Inn. Said they were adventurers but none of them had funny hats, sorry <cough> no wizards or priests, they all looked the same- vagabonds and thieves, wildmen from the north.”
“Ullies?” Jim asks.
“No, worse- they spoke funny, couldn’t understand them at first, don’t know where they were from, we knew there were more of them, they sent riders back out on the first evening, with supplies, lots of supplies, nearly all we had. Thistle was convinced at first that they’d go away once they’d gotten what they wanted.”
“Thistle?” It’s Anya’s turn.
“Thistle’s our leader, he’s a… a Druid. Anyway ten of them stayed at the Inn, drank a lot, swore a lot… and… well, took advantage. That’s when we knew that things were going to get worse, they weren’t for leaving, they had something more in mind. Next day Thistle met with their leader, Gaden, or some such- his bodies back over there, by the Barn.”

The farmer points, they turn to stare at the spot.

“He said he was looking for a jewel, and that he knew it was here, and they weren’t leaving without it- called it the “Eye of the Night”. So Thistle tells him that no such jewel exists in Molton Clay, that we’re farmers and potters mostly, a simple peaceful community. And to prove it Thistle asks everyone to submit to inspection, Gaden agrees, orders that all possessions are to be brought out into the street, everywhere is to be searched. By then there were twenty or thirty of them in the village, all the same- coarse men, violent men- they smashed things, took whatever they wanted. Some got hurt, the first death happened that night, a group of village lads attacked and killed one of the raiders, Gaden executed all those that took up arms, and then he ordered the dead boys parents to dig their graves…”

The farmer stops talking and starts crying, they let him be for a moment, he goes on, through his tears.

“The next morning we discovered the parents hadn’t come back, they’d dug their own graves too- all dead. Gaden rode in with all his men, there must have been fifty of them, into the centre of the settlement, ordered us out of our homes, told us that we had ten minutes to bring forth the jewel, or else… or else.”

The farmer gulps and stares hard for a second.

“Thistle didn’t wait to see how it was going to end, conjured a wolf into their midst, it got a few of them before it was brought down. Thistle was captured, easily, they’d moved in here by then”, the farmer indicates his house and barn, “they tortured him in the barn, I could hear his screams, they kept me here, with some others- running errands, I think Gaden knew that Thistle was hiding the gem. I knew he was, so did many of the others in the village, but no-one said. See we don’t call it the “Eye of the Night”, we don’t have a name for it, but it is a magical jewel, a symbol of natures perfection, it guaranteed our crops would grow, that the sun would shine, that the rain would fall; it kept us wealthy, healthy and safe from harm… until now. No-one was willing to give up the secret to our success.”
“Why? Your lives were at stake.” Anya wonders.
“He knows, and her.” The farmer points at Ala, then Cas. “If you believe in something, if you have faith then there’s nothing you won’t do to protect that faith from harm. The jewel is for good; in the wrong hands… it could be used for ill. It’s about maintaining the balance; we gave our lives to keep it safe.”
“Where’s the jewel now?” Newt leans in.
“Don’t know, they started burning the place up, and then Thistle got really mad, escaped, killed a good few of them before they caught him again, I kept hidden as best I could, by then I knew my family were already gone…”

The farmer breaks down again, tears flow, great hulking sobs. Cas’ face is cast in shadow, he looks away, wipes his eyes.

“What happened then?”
“They finished their search, no jewel, Gaden was furious and yet everyone else, everyone that hadn’t already fled, was dead. Most of the riders left soon after, they had somewhere they had to be in a hurry, they rode hard- to the North West. There were just a few of them left, no more than half-a-dozen, and Gaden, out here. That’s when the creature attacked, and the rats, there were hundreds of them spilling out of my Barn; sure I’d seen a few of them in there every now and then but not in these numbers, there were swarms of them. I ran, got as far away as I could, bumped into a couple of the Raiders in my haste- one got me with an arrow, the other his sword- left me for dead. I dragged myself back here, took me half-a-day, Thistle’s gone… it’s all gone… then you came along.”

He looks up at Ala, squints in the glinting sun.

“My name’s Giles, thanks.”

Then the farmer feints away. 

“We’ve got to get him back to the city, somewhere safe.” Ala states.
“What’s that?” Newt shields his eyes from the sun and stares at a black dot approaching the village.
“Riders, six of them.”
“Right, mount up, we’re going to meet them- get ready, weapons out.” Cas orders, and is the first on his horse.

Next Turn: Politics.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #14
Dungeon Interludes
Chapter 1: The Eye of the Night
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 40: Politics.

“I don’t bloody care who you are, you ain’t got no jurisdiction.”
The Patrol Sergeant spits and leans forward on his horse, there are six of them, as Newt said, the Sergeant and five Mounted Troopers, all wearing the Black Lion of Grimbo- they’re City Guards, and a long way from home.
“I’m surprised you know how to ride a horse, plod.” Jim’s getting cocky.
“What did you say?” Sarge isn’t best pleased, his horse dances forward, goes to buck.
Jim reaches across and lays a calming hand on the beast.
“I’d run back to the city if I was you, back to your beat, or the desk you drive.”
“Right, that’s it.”
Jim takes his hand off the Sergeants horse, the equine skitters and dances, as nervous as his rider but not hiding it at all.
“Whoah.” Sarge does his best to keep the horse from bolting, it continues to trot and dance, not entirely under control.
“I think Sergeant you should let us handle this, we have been charged by the Church of Pelor, one of the foremost institutions of the City of Grimbo to investigate this matter.” Cas tries a different tack.
“You can shove your investigation up your ar…” The horse has had enough it rears up, flinging the good Sergeant to the dirt, then just stands there, tamed again by Jim’s touch.

The Sergeant gets up slowly, rests his hand on the hilt of his sword, the adventurers quickly follow suit. The remaining troopers think about it, and then decide against it- the Goodman Gang look like they can handle themselves in a fight.

“Come on Sarge, let’s get back, leave these here to die?” A trooper speaks up, the others nod their consent.

Sarge looks defeated, goes over and takes the reins of his horse.

“I think that’s decided then.” Cas turns away and begins to lead the gang off, back to the Barn, then remembers, “we’ve found a wounded farmer, his name’s Giles, I ask that you take him with you- keep him safe, take him to the Church of Pelor, tell them I sent him, he needs rest, his family were all killed.”
“Who are you to order me around?”
“Sarge.” The talking trooper wheedles.
The Sergeant looks momentarily crestfallen, then nods.
Cas leads them all back to the farmhouse and the bloody farmer.

Fifteen minutes later, Giles gripping tight to a trooper, the Grimbo City Guards- Special Mounted Section, heads back to the city, they get a good distance away, a safe distance, before the Sergeant turns and shouts back.

“You’ll all be going in my report, obstructing an officer in his duty, I’ll have you, all of you- when you get back to the city.”

Jim reacts in an instant, runs to his horse and is mounted in seconds, the Sergeant turns his horse, which again dances and skitters, then digs his heals in, the creature bolts, not at all in the right direction. Jim climbs down, giggles, and slaps Sarge’s (Sarge is the name of his horse remember) flanks.

“You were a little… upset.” Anya stares at Jim.
“Were? I still am, I don’t like this, this was a place of peace, my dad used to talk about Molton Clay, said we’d come here one day, to live… never did.”
Anya nods.
“Do you think we’ll get in trouble?” Ala asks.
They turn to look at her.
“I mean back in Grimbo?”
“I hope so.” Newt grins.
Cas can’t help but smile.

“Are we getting on then?” Jim brings the conversation back to the here and now.
“Giles said a beast attacked them, killed Gaden, he fled remember, well what beast- where did it come from, spread out, search the area thoroughly.”

They set to work.

Ala checks the bodies strewn about, mostly farmers and their families killed by the Raiders, there are also four other bodies- the Raiders, slain by tooth and claw, something feral, and furious. All of the corpses have been nibbled and gnawed- rats.

Eventually the search centres on the Barn, Newt leaps, a single bound, up into the hay loft, its empty, the fragile wooden beams creak and shift beneath his tread.

“Careful, the entire structure is unsafe… hey Jim, what’s that?”

Newt points below, he has the perfect position, he can see every detail from above, Jim strides over, the others not too far behind.

“Drag marks and lots of rats, big rats, huge rats, see here.” Jim points, “Whatever it was dragged several of the bodies… Why would they… oh, food. There’s a hole.”

And sure enough there is a gapping wound in the corner of the Barn, it seems the earth has simply collapsed, hollowed out below; a dirt scree leads down into darkness. Newt leaps down from his high perch, shuffles over to Jim’s side- the pair cautiously approach the slope down, they’re still ten feet from the lip when the earth beneath their feet shifts and suddenly collapses.

“RUN.”

Jim screams and rushes back to escape the collapse, Newt is neater still, tumbles backward.

“WHOOF.”

The collapse extends a way, the adventurers dance further back, dirt and dust fills the air, then slowly clears to reveal the dirty adventurers and a much larger hole with a gentle slope leading down into it. Jim stamps the earth as he moves forward, it seems safe, he turns to look at Newt, grins.

“I know. I know.”

A rope is secured around the Gnome Rogue’s waist, Bec takes a hold of the other end, Newt winks at the assembled crowd and dances off down the slope, his flaring sunrod banishing the darkness as he goes.

“Rats, ooooooh.”

Newt shouts, and then almost falls.

“Big fecking rats.”

FWUNG

His crossbow fires but merely digs a divot out of the dirt floor of the cavern below, which is continuing to fill with Dire Rats, there’s nearly a dozen of them already. Jim and Cas come sliding on their backsides down the slope, slightly undignified but infinitely safer, except not for Cas who only makes it halfway down before striking a hidden rock and tumbling forward, he surfs face in the dirt the rest of the way down- arrives at the foot of the slope in a tangled mess. Newt is surrounded, and bitten, at least once, now flailing wildly with his mace.

“Not going.”
“What?” Ala stares at Bec.
“Not going… Rats. Rats bad.” Bec stands statue seemingly terrified at the prospect of the rats.

Jim and Newt are swishing and swatting, just keeping the rats at bay, Cas is less fortunate, and able, still on the floor a Dire Rat catches him on his ankle, a bloody bite that almost scratches the bone. He kicks the creature away and struggles to his feet.

“Get bloody down here, all of you.” He screams.

Anya begins to gingerly lower herself down the slope, using Newts rope as support, its trickier than it looks, she gets stuck less than halfway down and is left on her knees desperately hanging onto the rope. Ala follows Jim and Cas’ lead, slides down all the way on her backside- leaving Bec alone.

“Fecking rats, why’s it always bloody rats, I hate them, I bloody hate them dirty, filthy, creepy, sneaky, and bloody bitey, oh why’s it always bloody rats?”

Bec hefts his sword and hurtles down the slope, there better be something down there to stop him.

“SAAAAA-ND-WIIIIIIIII-CH.”

The Barbarian arrives, and at pace, crashes through the front row of Dire rats, his impetus smashing them out of his path, eventually comes to a halt swinging and swatting, cutting down two of the creatures en route, fifteen feet into the earthen chamber in the midst of easily over a dozen snarling, vicious Dire Rats.

Jim slices the nearest rat, cuts the thing in two with his axe, edges forward trying to make his way to the surrounded Barbarian.

The creatures screech and squeak it’s an all out attack, trying to defend their lair. Cas is bitten, not once but twice, both minor wounds on his legs but enough to get his dander up, he swings and misses, makes no headway against the horde. Newt strikes a glancing blow against one of the creatures, enough to keep him out of harms way. Anya looses Swish, sends the broom skittering down the slope, “Akkat”, the Magic Broom heads to war (to no effect). Anya sinks to the floor, braces herself so she cannot slip down further and begins to chant Arcane words, a moment later she’s up and striding purposefully down the slope, her Spider Climb spell having the desired effect. Jim fights on desperate to get to Bec, cuts another two of the foul creatures down, he’s getting closer. The Barbarian however is attacked on all sides, bitten again and again, he loses it.

“RAAAAAAAAA-TS. BLUDDDDDEEEEEEEE RAAAAAAAATS.”

He Rages, swings and swats, clears a circle around him but does no harm to the retreating vermin. However the Dire Rats are soon wise to this trick, they take it in turns to attempt to leap in at the Barbarian, who crashes about swinging wildly, to absolutely no effect, he’s bitten again in the process.

“RAAAAAAAAAAATS.”

Anya scrambles up and along a wall then up onto the ceiling, completely out of the Dire Rats reach, she grabs her Burning Hands Wand from the folds of her robes.

“BEC. BEC.”

Jim cuts another of the creatures down, the Barbarian however is not listening still a bundle of fury swinging without aim- the Dire Rats stay out of his reach. Ala and Cas are now fighting side by side, the Paladin stabs down, wounding one of the huge beasts, Ala misses the rat that leaps at her, it bites her on the arm, and is gone, back into the pack. Newt is still surrounded, backed up against the slope, he can’t keep them all at bay, he’s bitten again, on the hand, necessitating a brief tug of war with the creature, he eventually rips his limb from the Dire Rats maw and fights on wounding another in the process, blood arcs and splatters from his hand as he swings. Swish, the Magical Broom, is being bitten and slashed by a pair of the Dire Rats, to no great affect- the wooden shaft still intact, the brooms attacks are however completely ineffective.

“FLAME ON.”

A swathe of fire lances down from the ceiling, cuts through the Dire Rats in an instant leaving two smouldering corpses and three others now very badly burnt. The creatures panic, snarl and snap; still threatening they begin to move away from the vicious interlopers.

“FLAME ON.”

The fire comes again, catching only one of the creatures but leaving it a blackened flaming mess, the rats finally flee. Swish manages to catch one square on its jaw, a roundhouse move- the Dire Rat slumps to the floor. Cas slashes at a straggler, sends it to hell, Jim cuts down another two. Bec follows the fleeing creatures in a fury, and now connecting, nearly half-a-dozen of the creatures meet their end on his sword.

Alas the raging Barbarian doesn’t stop there, runs towards the last of the Dire Rats, disappearing into a tunnel on the eastern wall of the chamber.

THUMP

He comes to a sudden halt. Bec doesn’t fit, or rather his two handed weapons doesn’t fit down the tunnel, simple enough, he abandons them, draws his longsword and scampers off after the foul creatures.

“BEC. Nooooooo.”

Anya’s after him, the others gather themselves together for a second, exchange glances, and race off after the pair. 

Bec meanwhile has found new foes to slay, the tight tunnel splits two ways, Bec heads left and directly into a Rats nest, the fleeing Dire Rats turn and snarl- leap back at the Barbarian, the pair are swiftly cut down, although its close quarters the Barbarian’s swordplay wins the day.

Cautiously stepping into the Barbarian’s light are an even larger pair of Dire Rats, these creatures matt black in colour, except for their twisted red horns that jut from their skulls- Fiends. More Dire Rats emerge into the nest from the myriad tunnels, Bec glances backwards yet more of them are coming at him from behind, there’s obviously another nest near by.

Anya flings her sunrod forward, it illuminates the rats ahead, and at the edge of the light the Barbarian’s armoured form, more Dire Rats turn as they spot her, rush towards her, she can hear the others following on behind her, there’s no space to turn she cannot get out…

“FLAME ON.”

Next Turn: Dire Straits.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #14
Dungeon Interludes
Chapter 1: The Eye of the Night
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 41: Dire Straits

WHOOOOSH

The flame curls down the corridor, chars and cinders everything in its path, including Bec, who however barely seems to notice, he’s a hive of activity, chopping, slashing and poking- two more Dire Rats fall to his blade.

“Yew kanought wyn mantheeeeng.”

A Fiendish Dire Rat whispers at the Barbarian, which fazes him a little.

Anya rushes forward, spots the tunnel right, there are more of the things down there, and they’ve spotted her, Dire Rats rush to attack.

“FLAME ON.”

Fire fills the second passage, illuminates briefly another nest chamber ahead, and yet another pair of much larger Fiendish Dire Rats complete with a host of their less fiendish, but as vicious, brethren. “Aaaargh.” She screams and looks down, a partially incinerated Dire Rat has just taken a chunk out of her right knee, Anya kicks the thing in it’s slobbering chops and…

“FLAME ON.”

Fills the passage and the chamber ahead with fire again, rats of every ilk screech and curl and die. 

“Come back Bec. We can’t help you there.” Cas screams, the others have at last caught up.

But Bec is too far gone, more Dire Rats scurry into the chamber, the squeaks of the Fiendish duo ordering them in for the kill, Bec swipes and swats, chops another two down but is swamped, bites, tears and gashes cover his legs and lowers arms, he’s slick with his own blood, and the rats ahead are in frenzy, while his Rage is fading.

“FLAME ON.”

From the other chamber the now familiar cry, smoke is filling the void, it’s getting hazy, and warm, rats flail and burn, another gets close enough however to take a nip out of Anya, she staggers but grips tight to her wand. 

“Anya get the feck out of there.” Cas completely loses it, goes to drag Anya back, she snaps around, for a second- glares at the Paladin, “get Bec you bloody moron, I’ll retreat when he’s safe, now let me hold the… FLAME ON.”

Yet another gout of flame fills the chamber ahead, the rats have learnt how to play the game however, they duck inside dark tunnels to escape the rolling fury, then emerge again as soon as the fire has passed. Cas moves off swiftly, realises there’s no shifting Anya, back to Bec, who staggers a little.

“Come on, get out of there.” Cas calls over the noise of flame and fighting.
“Hang on.”

The Barbarian screams back, which fazes Cas, a little. Bec regains his balance and dances back into the fray, he’s bitten twice in quick succession, the first Dire Rat rips a chunk of flesh from his right wrist, his longsword suddenly becomes very heavy in his hand, another vermin bites him very near a place best left unmentioned.

“Bugger this.”

He staggers backwards, at pace, clearly having lost the will to fight, although he stabs another pair dead in his retreat. Cas grabs him and heaves him out of the fight, the chain of adventurers shuffles back down the tunnel in perfect rhythm.

“Come on then you BASTARDS.”

Anya screams, there are only the two Fiendish Dire Rats ahead of her, the other rats have finally decided that enough is enough. The creatures snarl and slaver as they stalk forward towards her. They leap.

“FLA…”

But she’s not nearly quick enough; the pair bring the Wizard down, rip and tear at her elegant clothes, to the soft flesh beneath.

Cas, who else, spots her fall, and dodges back and down the second passage to her, slicing and cutting at the air before him, the Fiendish Dire Rats back away from the Paladin’s blade.

“Commmmmmee tooooo usssssss.”

One hisses as Cas reaches down and grabs Anya, he drags her back, still slicing the air ahead of him, healing energies course through him and into her, she shivers then awakes, “where…”, then she realises and scrambles back to safety. The Paladin dives past her, stalks the passageway, towards the two Fiends ahead.

“Yesssssssss thisss wayyyy mantheeeng.”
“I’m coming, plenty for everyone, don’t you worry.”

Cas’ sword shines and glitters in the harsh light, one of the Fiends rushes forward, suddenly leaps and flies though the air, straight for the Paladin’s throat, SWIIIIPE, the thing is decapitated, its body thumps to the ground while its head spirals on past Cas.

“Next.”

The Paladin shuffles forward again, his smile now catching in the light.

Alas Bec is in trouble again, Ala reaches out to heal the Barbarian just as the three rats from the nest ahead of the Barbarian decide to press their attack, they come barrelling down the passage and crash into Bec, one Fiend reaches down and clamps its jaws shut on Bec’s leg and rips and wrenches, a wedge of bloody flesh and a good chunk of Bec’s shinbone are ripped out. He staggers, and yet swats his sword vaguely in the creature’s general direction, all to no effect.

“Bec, no. Retreat.” This time it’s Anya’s turn to urge the Barbarian to try to get out of the fight, while he can. Ala gets out of the way, except to place her hand on Anya’s shoulder, fire more healing power into the bloody Wizard. Anya is at Bec’s back, when the Barbarian finally, having sustained yet another gouging bite from one of the Fiendish Dire Rats, falls. Anya goes to catch him, thinks better of it, and lets him fall; Bec thunks hard into the dirt floor.

“Right, now you’ve really made me mad.”

Anya steps into the fray, armed with her… staff? The first exchange is brief and to the point, Anya is bitten twice, luckily both no more than scratches, the three rats ahead of her however emerge unscathed, two of them, Fiends, grinning, and what passes in the rat world for giggling, a kind of scratchy hiccup would perhaps best describe the sound.

Behind Anya, Ala again comes to the rescue, kneeling over Bec she whispers words of divine magic and another surge of healing startles the Barbarian awake, he leaps to his feet, takes in the situation, and rushes ahead, pushing Anya forward, while waving his longsword past her, at the now quickly retreating rats. Melee is at last joined in the rat’s chamber, Bec and Anya swipe and swing and miss by miles, the one Dire Rat left takes another chunk out of Bec, the two Fiends scamper and snap but are kept at bay. Anya, of all people, manages to land a glancing blow to a Fiends skull, breaking one of the creature’s horns. Then, at last, Bec gets to work, he stabs the last Dire rat, then swiftly turns his attentions to one of the Fiend Rats, cuts it down in a moment, less than ten seconds later the last of the Fiends here is dead.

At the same time in the other chamber, Cas attacks again, and loses his balance, if only for a second, it’s enough however for the final Fiendish Dire rat which clamps its jaws on his wrist, the Paladin shakes and smashes the rat off of him, suffering a huge gash that pours blood in the process. 

Behind him Jim has had enough, head down the Ranger burrows through the congregated adventures, spots Cas in trouble and heads in after him, literally shoves the Paladin stumbling further into the chamber, and onto his knees, then slams his battleaxe in, and through the remaining Fiend.

“Will you stop playing the bloody hero, DIRE RATS, DIRE get it, do you know how much I like DIRE CREATURES, I hate them, I hate them- you know that, after the skunk. Could you not have just given me a shout- someone, anyone?” The later part of the speech requires Jim to turn to his comrades and bark at them.

“Bloody do-gooders.” Jim shoves his way back out of the chamber, hurries Newt and Ala back out of the passage and into the original chamber in which they encountered oh so many more Dire Rats.

He strides to the slope then stands there and seethes.

A little while after the others emerge, Cas, Bec and Anya are covered in bites, bruised and bloody- really not a pretty sight, particularly the Barbarian who’s limping badly, dragging one leg behind him, he’s been bitten over a dozen times in the last two minutes.

“We rest.” Cas states moodily, “and heal”, then takes to glaring at Jim, who’s deliberately not looking at anyone, healing potions are being uncorked in the background.

“Everyone that has been bitten will need to return to the Church, we’ll need to check you for disease, these creatures can lay you low three days after you encountered them, believe me I’ve seen the results of filth fever, it seems we’re probably still going to end up owing Father Whiskin a favour even after we complete this task.” Ala states.

The others shuffle and nod.

Newt scurries around the central chamber, poking through the bodies of the rats, makes one or two grisly discoveries, half eaten corpses of Raiders, dragged down into the tunnels for breakfast, lunch and tea. He also makes several shinier discoveries, a smattering of gold and silver, a beautifully crafted Masterwork Cold Iron Scimitar, and a vial, clearly labelled “Silversheen.”

“What the hell is…”
“It’s for coating your weapon, alchemical silver.” Anya states.
“Oh yeah, that figures.” Newt goes to put the vial away for safe keeping, prevented only by Bec’s meaty fist grabbing, although not roughly, at his arm, the Barbarian gestures with his open palm.
“Not talking at all now, not even SAAAnDWITCHHHH.” Newt hands the vial over to Bec, obviously the Barbarian has something in mind. 

Jim continues to silently seethe, eyes on the ground, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze.

The Gnome grabs him and frog-marches him back to the tunnels they so recently fought their way through, back to the rat’s nests. “We may as well take a look.” Jim watches over the Rogue while he searches both nest chambers.

“Who does he think he is… Mr. I’m-always-right.” Jim pulls faces, makes sounds, not words.
“Who?” Newt continues searching.
“Cas, the bloody Paladin the wonder horse… you know.”
“What are you on about?” Newt gives up for this chamber.
“CAS. Bloody Cas, nobody else gets a look in at times.”
“Oh he’s alright.”

Newt heads off to the other chamber.

“What?” Its Jim’s turn, he scurries after the Gnome. “What did you say?”
“I said, he’s alright.” The Gnome gets back to searching.
“Oh take his side.”
“I’m not taking sides, I said he’s alright- he does his job.”
Jim gurns a moment, “he’s a… he’s…”, but he’s got nowhere left to go.
“Found it.”
“What?”
“The treasure.”
“What treasure?”
“This one.” Newt holds up a scroll case. Then heads off back to the others.
“What?” Leaving Jim on his own, it’s getting dark, Newt’s got the sunrod, “bloody Paladin”, Jim follows the light.

Ala and Anya gather to examine Newt’s find, a divine scroll, Ala tucks it away for later use.

“Right then…” Cas starts.

“This isn’t bloody working.” Jim explodes.

“You lead.” Cas counters, and nods to Jim, which pretty much resolves all of their problems.
“Oh. Yeah, that’d probably be best. Thanks.” Jim replies.

They’re about to head off when Cas remembers something, he turns to Bec, “So are you back to talking again, done with the whole ‘SAAA-ND-WH-ICCCCH” thing, only I just want to know?”
“Maybe.” Bec shrugs and indicates that’s all he has to say on the subject.
“Go on Jim, bloody amateurs.” The last part delivered by the Paladin sotto voce.

Jim takes the lead, Bec close behind, his longsword and shield in his hands; behind them Anya clutches her fiery Wand.

There’s another passage out of the muddy chamber, heading south, gingerly they snake down it, Jim to the fore- a little ways in the passage splits two ways. Jim sniffs the air, “south again, careful something smells rotten down here.” The group press on a short distance and then emerge into another chamber; the place is thirty feet in diameter, a circular-ish cavern of packed dirt and stone, the place smells rank, rotting vegetables and the unmistakeable odour of death. The air is thick and humid, sweat glistens on Jim’s brow, and his feet sink into the muddy earth as he cautiously moves into the chamber, towards a wall of boxes, barrels and crates.

Closer he can see that they’re all covered in a rich tapestry of molds and lichens, there’s a pile of rotten and ripped sacks behind the first stack of barrels, rotten grain, from the sacks, has been mashed into the muddy floor.

And just visible a pair of humanoid legs clad in leather breeches sticks out from behind the sacks.

“Body.” Jim states, and then stops suddenly, somewhere a rat squeaks, the sound fades, Jim cautiously creeps closer again. Stops once more, a different sound, a clicking sound… something… no, he can’t quite work it out. It’s coming from somewhere near the body, where the thickest shadows gather.

The Ranger creeps forward again.

“Stop. Don’t move.” Anya taps Jim and then Bec on the shoulder, the pair part, and let her through- the Wizard advances wand outstretched before her.

Suddenly something darts from behind the crates; a hundred armoured legs click and rattle as the Monstrous Centipede, nearly eight feet in length rears up before Anya.

Next Turn: Rat-Trick.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Goonalan said:
			
		

> ... right for the bonus point what was the name of the scenario that appeared in Dungeon magazine that I think involved shrunken PCs and a giant house/cottage- something like that anyway?




I'll have to pass on that one - not a Dungeon mag that I have.

And - excellent start to the new adventure. I particularly enjoyed Bec losing it when faced with all those rats.

Keep up the good work.


----------



## Goonalan

Grimbo Area Map

If I've done this right then the attached map will show Grimbo and the area surrounding, fingers crossed.

For those of you who know Grimsby (who's going to admit to that?) you will note that it bears more than a passing resemblance to the area, er... you've got me there, that's exactly what it is. My campaigns are usually set on Oerth, which looks a lot like the Earth, it seemed both simple and obvious all those years ago, it's also Geography 101 for my players.

Obviously the names have been changed a little to protect both the innocent and the guilty.

This better bloody work...


----------



## Goonalan

The United Kingdoms.

As with the previous this map shows Angland (England), and the Principality of the Welch (Wales), please do not take offence, particularly if you're French... you'll see. I'm not just playing on National stereotypes, I'm mostly playing with words, and so Frogland is home to Bullwug's (and other Frog-related folk), and not the French, it just happens in my world to be parked in the same place as France. As I say, please don't take offence.

Fingers crossed again...


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #14
Dungeon Interludes
Chapter 1: The Eye of the Night
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 42: Rat-Trick.

“FLAME ON.”

The Monstrous Centipede burns and flails, and then is spiked on Bec’s longsword, it thrashes a moment and then goes limp. Bec moves forward and levers the thing off his blade.

“Good work, all of you.” Cas is in the room.

Jim moves forward, stamps out the fires started by Anya’s wand, and makes a grisly discovery- the remains of three more humans, two raiders and a farmer, half eaten by rats and the Centipede, their bodies split and broken, their innards ripped out and chewed.

“BAAAARRFF.”

Jim loses his lunch. Newt moves forward, goes to bend to examine the remains, then thinks better of it. “Nah. Nothing here.” He moves on. There’s another pile of gear, adventurers gear, in the corner, the Gnome heads over to take a look- soon discovers that there’s nothing at all of worth.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Jim wipes his mouth and heads off back to where the passage divides.

Jim leads them on down the second passage, they head west then north, the passage grows tighter, the adventurers inch their way forward, and out into another larger chamber. Ahead a maze of slick mud walls, each riddled with dozens of rat sized holes.

“I don’t like this.” Jim whispers, he has his doubts. “Right then, it looks like a… a maze, make sure you’ve got plenty of light, and stick together, there are lots of rat holes- a good place for an ambush.”
“Lead us on Jim.” Cas pronounces.
“Stick to the left hand wall.” Anya offers.
“Yep.” Newt agrees.
“Kay.” The Ranger leads them in.

The area is a maze of small rooms, separated by thin muddy walls, some of them only half constructed, only two to four feet tall. The floor is slick with gloopy sticky mud that covers the adventurers boots.

Jim suddenly halts. “Wait. Listen.” And sure enough, the sound of rats. “They’re going to ambush us- be ready.” Jim takes another step forward as a Fiendish Dire Rat barrels around the corner ahead of him, scurries forward with lightning speed, straight for the Ranger, his battleaxe swings and crunches into the creature’s skull. The rat shakes the blade free and scurries back, it appears to be even stronger than the Fiendish Dire Rats they encountered earlier. The beast barely gets five feet when it leaps again, crashes into Jim, catching the Rangers arm in its maw, it yanks and tears, crushes and breaks the bones in Jim’s forearm, simultaneously dislocating his shoulder. The Ranger loses all colour and flops into the muddy mire.

“FLAME ON.”

Anya reaches over a low wall and sends a fan of fire into the space beyond, another Fiendish Dire Rat scurries away seemingly unhurt by the flame. Bec is stuck next to another low wall, he kicks and stamps at the blockage, smashing it down, struggles forward through the gap, skids on the slippery mud and falls into the passage beyond, straight in front of another of the Fiends, the creature sinks its teeth into Bec’s gut, rips out a hunk of flesh and swallows it down.

“Diiiinnnnneeerr isssss ssserved,”

At the rear of the pack yet another Fiendish Dire Rat darts to attack, Cas slices at it leaving a bloody trail down its back, the creature rushes on and sinks its teeth into Cas’ thigh, the Paladin screams and bashes the pommel of his longsword onto the creature’s skull, the rat retreats, as the Paladin bleeds. Newt and Ala dive into save him; the Priest catches the beast on the side of its head, momentarily stunning the thing. Newt sees his opportunity and darts in with his heavy mace in hand. The rat is not done for however, and dodges the Gnome’s attack and delivers a nip of its own to Newt’s side. The Gnome dances back to Ala but the Fiend is still not done, follows up its first strike with a second bite, this time to the Gnome’s right shoulder, his heavy mace gets much heavier. Anya in the midst of the fury chants, a blue-ish sheen engulfs her, her Mage Armour activated.

Bec kicks out, still on the floor- smashes his foot into the rat’s jaw, the creature snarls but retreats far enough for the Barbarian to leap to his feet. The rat comes again, but Bec is ready for it this time, his longsword spears down, stabs, six, eight, ten, twelve inches into the creatures shoulder, it leaps back, Bec grips tight to his blade. The rat settles a moment, looks confused, shivers, and then cautiously approaches again.

Anya stumbles forward, over Jim’s body, to the Fiendish Dire Rat that snarls and claws the dirt ahead of her. “Go back to hell.” The creature races forward, she meets its charge with the end of her staff. The blow nearly wrenches the length of oak from her hands, the rat staggers back- gasping for air, something in its chest is definitely broken, and yet it still has some fight left in it. 

At the rear Cas, Ala and Newt now face off against two of the Fiendish creatures, make that one, Newt dodges left then right, as a rat leaps towards him, manoeuvres to the side and brings his heavy mace down, two-handed, on the things skull, something large, and important, audibly cracks and breaks, the fiend sinks into the dirt. Cas steps forward to meet the other head on, lands a lucky blow, slicing into the creatures right front leg, the Fiend shies away, snarls and paws the air. Ala looks behind her, sees Jim collapsed in the muck, in an instant she’s to him, healing his wounds, bones, once broken, knit and mend, his shoulder pops back into place, and the Ranger sits up, suddenly light headed but no longer at deaths door.

“Where am I?”

Jim spies Anya ahead, making a decent fist of keeping another of the Fiendish Dire Rats at bay, but not landing any telling hits, the Ranger jumps to his feet, rescues his axe from the mud and worse, then charges towards the creature, “ANYAAAaaaaaa”, the Wizard dodges as Jim arrives- WHUMP, and buries the entirety of his axe blade in the now dying rats back. He levers his axe free as yet another Fiend appears from a tunnel to the Rangers right hand side, instinctively Jim steps back and swings his axe round to meet the beast, the weapon lodges, for a moment, in the rat’s body, the creature is then sent spinning backwards with the force of the blow. It crashes into another muddy wall and lies there, unmoving- dead. 

“Thanks Jim.” Anya adds, aware that she was clearly outmatched in the fight, her soft touch, her hand rubs his shoulder, their eyes meet for the briefest of moments, and yet long enough.

Ala, meanwhile, is back to the rear, alongside Cas, who’s swinging hard, but wide of the rat there. The Priestess dodges past the Paladin and lands the killing blow- lancing her sword, up to the hilt, into the Fiendish Dire Rats skull.

Bec continues to flail and swat, the last of the Fiendish Dire Rats backs away, looking for an opening, alas it backs straight into Jim, and his axe, which bites deep into the creature.

“Whissssskerssssss.”

The final Fiendish Dire Rat expires.

“What did he say?” Jim asks.
“Whiskers?” Anya appears from around the corner, and offers.
“Isn’t that a sort of cat food?”
Anya shrugs.

“Retreat out of the chamber, back the way we came.” Cas calls over. Thirty seconds later they’re back in a huddle at the entrance to the muddy maze chamber, once again Healing Potions are uncorked, in truth they haven’t got many potions left, indeed some of the adventurers are already out.

“We can’t take much more of this.” Ala states, to stares.
“And yet we should go on- finish what we’ve started.” Jim is determined.
Cas scans the assembled masses, looking for consent, they all nod, although Ala’s is half-shrug, half-nod, but she’s getting used to being ignored. 

“Left wall again.” Anya smiles and taps Jim on his left shoulder, leaves her hand there a little too long, the Ranger doesn’t look back, his broad smile faces forward, hidden from sight.

And the system works, less than a minute later Jim leads the adventurers into another chamber, out of the mud at last, which now cakes their boots, every step an effort. The floor ahead sweeps sharply down to a pool of murky cavern water, a thick and crusty layer of algae- complete with clouds of flies and mosquitoes buzzing lazily above the surface. The hazard is some twenty feet across, the chamber itself, now illuminated by two sunrods is some forty feet across, at the far side another dark passage leads off. A narrow ledge circles the depression, the footing both sides looks sturdy, however the pit look slick and steep.

“Feck how’re we…” Jim begins.
“Easy.” Newt winks at Anya then delves into his pack, finds and drains a potion, Anya grins then manages the same effect with a simple incantation- Spider Climb, the two take to the walls, climb up and around and then lay a roped trail around one side of the pit, hammer a pair of pitons into the walls as guides for the rope. The job’s complete in less than five minutes; only an idiot could fall in now with the rope so firmly secured.

Bec is the first to tumble down the slope, however he’s not entirely to blame, the Barbarian stumbles and grabs hard at the rope to prevent his fall, however it’s Newt and Anya that’s holding onto to the other end, the Barbarians weight and momentum is too much for them- result Bec is halfway down the slope scrabbling trying desperately to keep away from the water.

“Heave.” Anya calls, she and the Gnome grip tight the rope and pull hard, the Barbarian is rescued inch by inch. Below Bec’s flailing legs the pool seems to shift and gather to one side, a viscous liquid climbs the slope towards the Barbarian. 

“I think there’s…” Ala starts but is shushed by Cas. Bec makes it back to the ledge and scampers up to safety.

“Jim… don’t fall in. Take your time.” Cas offers.
“Don’t worry it’s easy, watch.”

Twenty seconds later the Ranger’s boots are splashing at the edge of the water, he’s much further down the slope than Bec, and slipping further down all the time. From the centre of the pool an amorphous blob rises, like some dismembered hand, no fist, except made of Grey Ooze. Ripples spread towards Jim as the appendage surges forward.

“PULL.” Cas screams, and at the same time Bec gets hold of the rope and does as ordered, Jim is catapulted back up the slope, and onto the ledge, his face and front covered in a thick layer of mud. The slimy fist crashes into the slope, in the spot that Jim so very recently reclined, then oozes back down into the pool. Jim scuttles across.

“What was that?” Jim asks looking back.
“Erm… Nothing to worry about, we’ll be across in a moment. Best if all of you grab onto the rope, don’t want any accidents.” Cas shares a look with Ala, gulps. And yet the pair make their way across without further incident.

Blood Whisker stands in the centre of the chamber, stops what he is doing, half-man, half-rat; his seven Fiendish Dire Rat companions that surround him, also stand statue. He listens intently, then sniffs the air.

“Thhhheeeyyy Coooooommmme.”

And in an instant the room is empty, except for the tiny cave rats that carpet the floor. The shadows in the chamber darken.

“Shhh. This way.” Jim’s voice carries into the room. 

The chamber ahead is much more welcoming, hard packed earth, no mud, the cavern sides carved with care, and skill. A simple straw bed lies to the west, alongside a series of crudely constructed chests and crates. But what draws the adventurer’s attention is the five foot patch of dirt in the northwest corner, which seems to bubble and churn with thousands upon thousands of tiny cave rats. Countless of the creatures tumble from the area, scatter across the room; disappear into the myriad tiny tunnels that honeycomb the lower reaches of all the walls.

A wooden staff, a tattered green cloak, a length of rope and an ancient leather satchel stick out from beneath the churning pile of rats.

“It’s empty.” Jim proclaims.

Next Turn: Bloody Whiskers.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #14
Dungeon Interludes
Chapter 1: The Eye of the Night
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 43: Bloody Whiskers.

Jim heads in, a tiny cave rat hops over his boot- STAMP, and it’s gone. “Bloody vermin.” The Ranger creeps forward, “it looks safe.”

Which proves to be untrue very quickly, Fiendish Dire rats explode from the walls of the chamber, a crouching Blood Whisker, rapier drawn, stays hidden in the shadows.

“FLAME ON.” Anya screams as she stumbles into the cavern, aiming hard right in order to miss Jim- flames lick and fold, bathe the chamber, two Fiendish Dire Rats are a little singed, a dozen innocent cave rats are instantly immolated. Bec charges into the chamber gets perhaps, four feet before a spike of steel lances out of the shadows, Blood Whisker’s rapier, the blade pierces the Barbarian’s lower chest, and passes through; the tip protrudes an inch through his back. And then the blade is withdrawn. Bec moans duly, clamps his hand instinctively on the spot, his next breath ragged and laboured, his lung punctured, blood spills from his mouth, he swats with his giant sword, ineffectively. Blood Whisker grins and retreats a little further into the darkness that surrounds them.

Ala screams, “for Correllon”, her Bless spell encompasses her compatriots, for a second they feel uplifted, confident- then reality hits them.

The rat’s crash into them, one of the Fiends nips and tears at Cas’ hand, leaves a bloody streak in its wake. The Paladin slices down on the creature as it retreats, almost removes its right front leg, it totters back. Another leaps at Bec, the Barbarian scrambles to palm it away, but it hooks its forelegs into the Barbarian’s belt, dodges in and takes a gobbet of grisly flesh out of Bec’s face, it’s almost too much for him, and the fight is less than ten seconds in. Jim is left stranded, surrounded, he swishes and swirls his axe about him, attempting to keep all of the rats at bay, one sneaks past his guard, takes a slice out of the Ranger’s knee.

“Akkat.” Anya hurls Swish into the fray, the Magical Broom manages a fey swat at a passing rat, which then scurries on and launches itself at the Wizard, crashes into her sending her falling backwards, scratched and bitten Anya crashes into the cavern wall, manages to drag herself back to her feet. Swish quickly hops over to save his mistress, swats hard and merely scratches Anya’s attacker, the Fiend pays the broom no heed.

Bec eventually knocks the rat on his belt to the ground, slaps his other hand on the handle of his two-handed sword, draws it, and rushes at the figure he’s just spotted deep in the shadows, Blood Whisker. “BAAAAAssssTTTTUUUDDD.” He swings with all his might, crashing through Blood Whiskers defences, the blade thumps into the Wererat, but doesn’t even break the skin. Blood Whisker realises this at the same time as the Barbarian, the Lycanthrope grins, “thisss sssshhhhooouulldd beeee ffffun.” The rat Bec so recently levered off of him sees its chance, nips in and bites a hunk of flesh out of the Barbarians left leg, Bec staggers again, puts a hand out to try and steady himself, hangs his head, already exhausted, breathing is incredibly hard, cave rats crawl and bite at his feet, he can’t take much more of this. He looks up just in time to see Blood Whisker’s rapier thrust, the blade is coming straight for his face.

At the last moment he twists aside, the blade bites briefly into the packed dirt cavern wall, and then is withdrawn at lightning speed.

Newt so far is playing a game of ‘rat and mouse’, he’s the mouse with a Fiendish Dire Rat on his tail, then the Gnome remembers, and scurries up a wall. “Feck off, vermin.” He flicks the V’s at the stranded rat which leaps and jumps, snapping its jaws about a foot short of the Gnomes legs, he climbs a little higher up the wall. Ala rushes towards the nearest rat, deflects its snarling leap with her shield and then stabs her longsword through the creature’s brain; it curls, bleeds and begins mewling, not long for this world.

Jim drags himself to Bec’s side, “put your back in to it, come on.” The Ranger swings wildly, just as Blood Whisker dodges forward to lance the Barbarian again, Jim’s axe connects with the lycanthropes off-hand, shatters the elbow, sends Blood Whisker dancing back, one hand limp- to his side. Cas sees they have the advantage slices at the Fiendish Dire Rat before him and cuts the thing clean in two, he sprints to Bec, adds his sword to the fight against the Lycanthrope, just as another Fiendish Dire Rat takes a chunk out of the Barbarians left calf, Bec screams and crashes into the cavern wall, it’s the only thing keeping him up.

DM’s note Bec is on 1hp.

Anya spots Newt out of the corner of her eye, the Gnome is trying to load a silver bolt into his crossbow, which is pretty difficult when you’re hanging onto a wall. Anya tries the same move, heads towards the cavern wall, set to climb up and out of the fray, a Fiendish Dire Rat reacts quickly and blocks her path; harries her, sends her scrambling backwards. The rat leaping forlornly at Newt notices the Wizard, rushes in, leaps and crashes, bites and claws at Anya’s back; she’s buffeted badly but still manages to keep her feet. Swish turns to meet this new attacker but proves as ineffective as usual.

Blood Whisker launches a killing blow, its rapier set to pierce Bec’s heart, when at the last minute Jim rushes in and puts his body in the path; the blade pierces his chest and emerges a good distance through the other side. Blood fountains out as the rapier is withdrawn, Jim flails then finds his footing, he’s losing blood fast, his face whiter than white, almost translucent. Ala kicks her way past the Fiendish Dire Rat ahead of her and rushes to flank Blood Whisker, her sword thumps into the creature right shoulder, streaks across its back, the force enough to split the thing open, and yet her blade leaves not a trace, doesn’t even pierce the skin. 

Ala back-pedals furiously out of the fight, screaming, “magical weapons”, as she retreats. Blood Whisker turns to spy her, grins and nods to acknowledge her insight. Anya sees an opening, and leaps, and grabs, and grips onto the cavern wall, she scurries up towards the ceiling out of the Fiendish Dire Rats reach, the pair quickly abandon their prey, look over and spot Bec barely moving leant against the wall- they share a look and then sprint over to engage the Barbarian, who in the last instant levers himself upright and forward, swings with all his might, his blade cuts through both of the creatures, curtailing, forever, their charge.

FWUNG

A silver crossbow bolt thunks into the wall, about a foot from Jim’s head. “Sorrrrrry.” Newt calls over. Ala circles back again, further away from Blood Whisker; she reaches out and touches Bec, warmth and healing spill into the Barbarian, who however remains sorely wounded.

Jim scurries back a little, meets a Fiendish Dire Rat coming the other way, one of only three left alive now. The Ranger dodges away swiftly back towards Blood Whisker, foolishly not looking where he’s going; he meets head-on the lycanthropes blade, which pierces his throat, the Ranger slumps, but is grabbed mid-fall by Blood Whisker, who leans in and bites a chunk of flesh out of his shoulder, spits the bloody bolus onto the filthy cavern floor, where it is soon consumed by the tiny cave rats.

“Nexxxxxxt.” It whispers, then glugs down a Healing vial, while blocking Cas’ amateurish attack with Jim’s body. The creature drains the vial and drops it as the Paladin almost trips and staggers forward,  Blood Whisker throws Jim aside and grabs Cas, yanks him towards him and spins him round, Cas becomes his new human shield. The creature sinks its teeth through the skin and into the base of Cas’ skull, rips a hunk of flesh free, exposing bone, and then shoves the Paladin back the way he came, Cas stumbles and falls, lies motionless on the hard-packed ground, cave rats swarm.

Ala, whispers prayers, just inches away from placing her hand on Jim, who also lies seemingly lifeless on the floor, she sees Cas fall, she has only one Healing spell left. 

“Decisssionsss. Decissssionss.” Blood Whisker calls.

Bec stumbles, leaden legged towards Blood Whisker, then realises the folly of his endeavour, fumbles in a pouch and produces his Vial of Silversheen, pops the cork, all fingers and thumbs, as the Lycanthrope approaches.

Next Turn: To Love, Honour & Obey.


Oooops

Dungeon Crawl Classic #14
Dungeon Interludes
Chapter 1: The Eye of the Night
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 44: To Love, Honour & Obey.

Blood Whisker leaps at the barely standing Bec, still fumbling with his Vial of Silversheen, trying to coat his blade.

“Smidgin.” A Magic Missile launches from Anya’s hand, smashes into the Lycanthrope, diverting its lunge, the creature still manages to get an attack in, off-balance though its blade is easily avoided.

FWUNG

A silver crossbow bolt sprouts from the Wererat’s chest, the creature gasps and staggers back, grabs another Healing vial and brings it to his lips, and the wound is all but gone. Blood Whisker pulls the bolt from his chest, casually lets it fall from his hand, and mockingly motions for Bec to join him in the fight; the Barbarian backs away, still fumbling with his sword.

Ala looks again at Cas, still not moving, then back at Jim, she gets up reddening furiously and heads over to help the Paladin, her love.

Who rises as she approaches, badly wounded but only momentarily stunned, “Jim”, the Paladin states, and clambers back to his feet. Ala is quickly back to the Ranger, the last of her Healing surges into the him, wounds instantly close over, Jim lets out a ragged breath and nods his thanks, while fetching out one of his own Healing vials, he sucks the contents down, and then pops another- his last.

Cas heads straight back into the melee, brave or just plain stupid- definitely fearless, he tangles with a Fiendish Dire Rat in his rush to get back to Blood Whisker, is bitten again, on his right hip, in the process. Blood Whisker welcomes him back with a smile. Cas slashes wildly, Blood Whisker dodges inside the blow, stabs his rapier out but the blade is deflected by the Paladin’s shield. Anya is fast running out of spells, and yet she tries again, flashing lights circle the Lycanthrope’s head momentarily- but the Daze spell has no obvious affect- the lights quickly fade. She shrugs, while continuing to grip tight to the wall, unhooks her light crossbow from her belt, and attempts, badly, to get it loaded.

THWUNG

Another silver bolt slices in, and through, the Wererat’s arm, the creature snarls back at the Gnome, Blood Whisker looks, for a moment, a little nervous, for the first time unsure of the final outcome of the fracas. The Wererat reacts quickly, barrels into Cas and sends the Paladin spinning back the way he came, unharmed but out of the melee. The creature adopts a defensive stance, grabs and drinks down yet another Healing Potion. Bec’s has at last finished lathering his two-handed sword with the Silversheen, a Fiendish Dire Rat tries to interrupt his progress towards Blood Whisker, but arrives late and is cut down by a lazy swipe.

And then Jim is up and charging back at the Lycanthrope, the pair exchange blows, seemingly evenly matched, that is until Jim is flung back, almost falls- the creature is incredibly agile. Another Fiendish Dire Rat blocks Bec’s path, and is cut down in an instant- the Barbarian grins as he strides at last to Blood Whisker- armed & deadly with his silvered sword, which sweeps all before him, fearsome strokes, Blood Whisker has nowhere to go and so backs into the wall, before leaping forward with a precision blow, which however fails to penetrate the Barbarian’s armour. Bec’s final swing connects and leaves a raw gash along the Wererat’s chest and stomach, the creature whines a little. Specks of spittle, mixed with blood, fall from its maw- it doesn’t look pleased.

FWUNG
FWUNG

Newt fires his final two silver bolts, in quick succession, the Gnome has crawled along the ceiling to a perfect spot, to the side, and almost behind Blood Whisker, both bolts hit home, creating a porcupine affect. More blood spills from the Wererat’s maw.

Bec dodges back as Blood Whisker surges forward, looking for escape, a lightning fast set of swipes and swishes, the last of which passes only an inch before his eyes. Jim and Cas leap back into the fray, attempting to flank the creature, Blood Whisker manages to keep them all at bay, however his forward moment is blocked, he has to retreat back again to the cavern wall.

Anya leaps off her perch on the wall, steadies herself and grabs Swish, rushes over to help Ala, who’s facing off against the last of the Fiendish Dire Rats, and not faring so well- the Priestess is bitten again, no more than a scratch on her hand, but another distraction, she swings wide and curses her luck. Anya menaces the creature with her staff, Swish, well… swishes- all to no effect. The rat comes again, it’s decided its going to eat Ala first, however the Priestess is a little too canny- she dodges backwards, lures the rat in, then lunges forward and plants her blade deep in the vermin’s body, the rat shudders and expires.

“Together… Now.” Cas screams and all three of the warriors shuffle forward swinging hard, Blood Whisker for a moment looks truly terrified, then decides its fate, lances it’s rapier straight at Cas, who swats the blade aside with his longsword, however the Wererat’s not finished it continues its charge, smashes into the Paladin and bites into Cas’ neck and shoulder.

“SSSSsssssseeee yooooooooo inn Heeeelllllllll.”

Bec chops hard, his blade bites deep into the creatures body, exposing organs and bones. Jim does the same from the other side; Blood Whisker is almost cut in two. The Wererat stiffens, clasps its hands around Cas, pulls the Paladin to him, in a hug, and whispers in his ear- “Beware… the Devil’s Eye.”

And then dies. 

Silence, except for the cave rats pathetic squeaks, and the chorus of heavy breathing, the adventurers are spent- Jim flops to the floor, followed by Cas, then Bec, they find walls to lean against. Even Newt has a little sit down, then Ala, then Anya.

“So where is he then?” Anya asks.
“Who?” Cas enquires.
“Thistle. The Druid.”
Cas looks around, rats continue to spew from the patch of ground at the far side of the chamber, but there’s plenty to eat for the vermin, they’re not after a fight- they leave the adventurers well alone, give them a wide berth.

“OooooA.”

There’s a sound coming from the area, Cas, with difficulty, creaking and cracking, levers himself to his feet- Newt follows him, then Anya, to the rat pile.

“It’s a pit.” Newt points.
Cas nods, “Bec.”
The giant man, limping slightly, wheezing a little, wanders over.
“Give me a hand.” The Paladin grabs the rope that disappears into the pit of scurrying, scrabbling rats. Bec grasps the rope, then Jim. “Heave.” Seconds later a… man? Of sorts, at least humanoid in shape and yet not made of flesh and bone, more bark and root- covered in scratches and bites which are steadily regenerating, rises to the surface of the enormous Rat Swarm.

“Pull him out.” Jim shouts.
“Thistle.” Bec simply states as the Druid is hauled out and to his feet, they grasp the Druid and swiftly move him away from the pit, to safety, mid-way the creature’s eyes blink open, Thistle whispers, “thank you”, and without joy smiles.

They lay Thistle down, keep the area clear of cave rats, and watch as the plant-man fully regenerates. 

“Open.” Newt has sprung both of the chests; he sorts through a mixture of coin, although not a lot, some low-grade gems, and some well-made weapons and armour. Bec helps Newt to decant one chest into the other, then the Barbarian hefts the full chest onto his shoulder. Anya uses her Detect Magic spell to strip the body of Blood Whisker, a rapier and a ring, both enchanted.

Ten minutes later Thistle is back on his feet, and no longer smiling, not even pretending.

“All gone?” Thistle asks again.
“Almost, we found one survivor, Farmer Giles, sent him back to the Church of Pelor in Grimbo, to recover. Others may have escaped, fled to the hills, the forest.” Cas replies.
“I will wait for them, they will return, we will build Molton Clay again.” Thistle states and forlornly staggers out of the chamber.
“Wait.” Cas grabs at the Druid’s arm, “what was this all for- the ‘Eye of the Night’, where is it? What is it?”
“Your dagger.” 
Cas looks a little disturbed, and then complies, passes his dagger to Thistle, who takes it, takes a deep breath and then carves into his trunk, or rather torso, splits and cuts into his wood-like flesh, a sticky white liquid leaks from the wound- sap.
“What are you?” Jim watches and wonders.
Thistle drops the dagger, delves into the wound, and pulls out a sap covered, slightly glowing, topaz.
“Here.” He hands the sticky gem to Cas, “the ‘Eye of the Night’, we cannot, I mean, I cannot keep it safe any longer.” Thistle turns to Jim, “what am I? I am Thistle, born of the rich earth, nurtured by cool clear water, raised by the warmth of the sun. I am a Druid, the protector of Molton Clay, and the last of my kind… again.”
Thistle moves off again, into the darkened tunnels.

“We’ll take the gem to the Church of Pelor, they will guard it for you, until you’re ready to take it back. When you’ve built Molton Clay again.” Cas tries to comfort Thistle, but the Druid walks on.

The adventurers grab their kit and follow him back into the rat tunnels.

Several minutes later, after a few false turns, Thistle finds his way to a rough chamber, a halo of light, a spotlight on the cavern floor- there’s a smaller passage back to the surface. There’s also a very large Badger, which licks and nudges Thistle’s hand, obviously the Druid’s Animal Companion.

“This is Snarl.”
Snarl snarls.

Instinctively the warriors, except for Jim, take a step backwards remembering previous encounters with Badgers; Dire, Giant and mostly just plain furious.

“He won’t hurt you.” Thistle manages a half a smile, then shrugs, turns back to stare at the obvious exit, and slowly clambers up, momentarily, bathed in the light.

“Give him a minute.” Jim stops Cas in his tracks.

Thirty minutes later Thistle and the gang have completed their sweep of the village, Molton Clay is no more. There are no survivors, just lots of bodies. Thistle is beyond words. 

“We need to get some healing- the rat bites, there’s a good chance we’re going to be sick, again, for a while.” Ala breaks the silence.
“Bloody rats.” Bec mumbles.
“We bury the dead first.” Cas holds Thistle’s gaze.
The Druid nods slowly.

In the end they settle for collapsing a wall in the Blood Whisker’s lair, creating a sealable burial chamber- beneath the barn, there’s no other solution, such are the number of corpses in the village.  

It takes a day and a half, and at the end of the endeavour, Jim, Bec and Ala are suffering, their wounds are not closing over, their bones ache, they feel cold, and at times dizzy.

Thistle seals the burial chamber and leads the Goodman Gang into the woods.

“I have friends here; they will take care of you. I thank you for your efforts, for rescuing me and the gem, all that I have is yours, your needs are my needs, if I can ever help you… I am forever in your debt.”

Jim blushes, the others follow suit.

“And yet questions remain unanswered.” Thistle states. “Who were these… these killers? Where did they come from? Who sent them? And why did they want the gem?”

Next Turn: Review.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #14
Dungeon Interludes
Chapter 1: The Eye of the Night
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 44a: Review

Overall score out of 10: 7.7
Play time: 3 battered hours.

Review:

Another good one, and short, although the players spent Hit Points like they were going out of fashion. From a DMs perspective I thought at first that the continuous cycle of rats would prove boring, particularly when the scaled up version of the module meant the rats would stick around for a little longer than expected, also because there were so many of the little, and not so little, blighters. This seemed to be less of a problem than I expected for the players, they were in a rats den, this was soon concluded- there’s bound to be lots of them.

The players also enjoyed the fact that the pace of the scenario was quite frenetic at times, the battles hard, and the final epic entirely suited to what passed before.

With all the raving you’d perhaps have expected a higher mark, and yet they were just rats seemed to be the consensus on conclusion, and at times, particularly when faced with eighteen dire rats, and then another six… no make that twelve, well you get the idea.

Notes and Quotes:

Once they were inside the den, which took a little while, and caused a few upsets- some of the players want to get in and get swinging as soon as possible, the players were much happier.

The morass of Dire Rats in the first fracas set the pace, they knew they were in for trouble. Compounded when the loopy Barbarian decides to chase after the stragglers and ends up between a rock and a hard place, actually two rat nests complete with pairs of Fiendish Dire Rats.

An excellent introduction to the scenario which served to wipe the smile from all of the player’s faces, Jim for one, Mr. A., seemed most unamused that his sworn enemy- Dire Creatures, were getting offed and he was nowhere to be seen.

And the next creature they meet is of course a Giant Centipede, needless to say more rats follow, and Jim’s in his element, like Bec and Anya earlier, on the floor and getting bitten. Perhaps six Improved Fiendish Dire Rats was a little hard on the guys, but hey ho- who cares, they got through it.

The final fight was another fine moment to witness, shuttle runs to the fridge, players whispering blessings and screaming curses to their dice. It’s so reassuring to the DM- something must be working, nobody answers their phone, or tells stories about what happened in the pub the other night… They just roll their dice, make up stories, and sometimes chew on the gaming table.

And so…

Mr. R. (Cas)- “Can we play it again?”
Mrs. R. (Ala)- “Let’s not.”
Miss P. (Anya)- “I hate rats.”
Mr. W. (Newt)- “See above.”
Miss E. (Bec)- “See above.”
Mr. A. (Jim)- “Has anyone got a picture of a Dryad?”

Overall well received, the fights were all interesting in some way, kept the players on their toes. The hazards helped the story along, led to some creative suggestions, and the finale was definitely worth the price.

More of the same please next time, here’s hoping.

Next Turn: Into the trees.


----------



## Goonalan

Turn 45: Into the trees.

Two hours later and the raged group are gathered in a clearing, it’s nice here, even late in the day, early evening, the sun shines down, warm- wholesome, they feel a little better already.

“Here.”

Thistle steps up to a very large tree, twists something and pulls open a previously hidden door. Its obvious now its open, but you’d have to looking for it to spot it otherwise, and you don’t, do you… generally, look for doors in trees.

“That’s nice”, Newt admires the secret door, “can you make me one?”
Thistle smiles a little, the first time in ages, ruffles the Gnome’s hair, Newt strides inside.

The room’s quite clearly bigger on the inside than the outside.

“Are you a Dryad?” Jim asks, then suddenly feels dumb.
“No, brave Ranger, although I am a friend of Dryads.” Thistle clasps the Jim’s hand, “just like you will we be one day.”
“Will I… That’s good. They live in trees don’t they?”
Thistle nods and motions for the group to spread out, to settle, there are chairs, trestles, beds- there’s a lot of furniture for sitting, lying and generally resting on.

Ale is on the table, and spiced teas, and cakes, and sandwiches, and buns, and sweetmeats, and trifles, and sandwiches, and buns, and little things on sticks- cheeses, pickles, exotic fruits; and on some sticks, all three, together. It’s a spread worthy of a king.

“Pelor be blessed…” Cas starts.”
“And Correllon.” Ala finishes, muffled slightly, not standing on ceremony she’s starving, chomping on a chocolate éclair.
“Here, get one of these down you…” Newt offers up the plate of sandwiches to Bec. 

Bec examines the bready-host, considers his options, but his eyes are drawn back to the table, to the…

“What is it?”

Bec reaches and points down to a round-ish object, about the size of a potato, covered in some thin shiny metallic paper, a host to a miniature forest of delicate slivers of wood, each bearing a, that is not one, not two, but three different fine foods. He bends low and moves in until his face is almost touching it, right under his nose, he sniffs. The first is an onion, a tiny delicate onion, next, a cheese, Dwarven Ched-Dar, and on the top a piece of… he wants lick it, to taste it, to be sure.

“Have one.” Thistle grasps the savoury laden hedgehog and gestures back at the giant man, “go on- they’re nice.”
Bec swoops, yanks one free and .

The onion crunches- FIZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
The cheese melts- CREAAAAMMMY
The pineapple hits- SWEEEEEEEEEEEEET
The wooden sliver is a little chewy.

It’s callisthenics for Bec’s face.

“Go on, help yourself to the buffet, all of you, and Bec- next time don’t eat the skewer.” Thistle sits and pours drinks to order. 

Bec, brought up to know right from wrong, sits by the savoury hedgehog and contents himself with only eating only one of the exquisite morsels every minute or so, smiling politely at any of his companions that reach out towards the delicacy. The smile says it all, that and the wild eyes, those with a Sense Motive score high enough understand the Barbarian’s look, in translation- oh yes help yourself to one of my special foods, I hope you enjoy it’s heavenly delight because later I’m going to snap your arm off.

Bec deforests the hedgehog at his leisure.

A little later.

“So what are Dryads like?” Jim asks through a mouthful of cake.
“They’re mostly stunningly beautiful female tree spirits, usually clad in something thin and revealing.”
The cake goes everywhere.

The door opens again, Jim continues on.

“Excellent. I’m usually quite a hit with the ladies; I’ve got very athletic calves...”

The other members of the gang suddenly stop eating, stare at Jim, and then behind Jim, Newt motions for him to look.

Jim strains around to see, while continuing with his explanation, “generally the ladies can’t keep their hands off… Mischa!”
“Hello Jim.”
“Do you know each other?” Thistle stares.
“Yes.” A chorus from the adventurers.
“Yes.” Out of sink, and pleading, Jim concurs.
“Yes.” Mischa agrees and shakes her head staring hard at the Ranger.

A little while later.

The lights have been dimmed or extinguished, poultices have been applied, and healing and herbal draughts have been drunk- Bec snores, as does Anya but don’t tell her. There are one, two, three, four, five… oh hang on, five adventurers sleeping.

Where’s Jim?

The woods are quiet and a little chilly, Jim takes his cloak off and tries to wrap it round Mischa’s shoulders, she shrugs away from his touch.
“I never…”
“Shut up Jim.”
“I was only…”
“I said shut up.”
Silence for a while.
“Ok.”
Mischa stops and stares at the Ranger.
“You’re so…”
“What?” Jim enquires.
“So… stupid.”
“Oh.” Jim looks at his boots.
“I…”
“What?” Jim looks up.
“Just bloody shut up. I’m thinking.”
“Sorry.” Jim goes back to counting his boots- one, two; time for a recount.
“I mean I like you…” Jim goes to look up, decides better of it, and counts on.
“But you’re so frustrating- you always say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing… I want… I want a simple life; I don’t want to be worrying about you all the time, wondering, moment-to-moment, I wonder if Jim’s alive? I can’t… I can’t live like that.”
Jim gulps.
“But…” He’s learnt his lesson, he doesn’t look up, “I…”, then he notices he’s all alone; he looks up, Mischa’s ten yards away, and not listening.

She turns to face him; he looks down immediately, one boot, two boots, and start again.
“We can’t be together. We just can’t. I’m sorry Jim- it would never work.”

Jim looks up slowly.

Meets Mischa’s gaze.

Exactly six seconds later they’re in each others arms, and kissing.

Two weeks later the adventurers are well again, actually all of them except Ala has sweated their way through a bout of Filth Fever; none of them were infected by the Lycanthrope fortunately. They’re outside the tree, Thistle’s home, or rather one of Thistle’s homes.

“I want you to have these.”
Anya hands the Pipes of the Sewers she’s been carrying over to Thistle.
“Hide them, destroy them, use them if need be, but I don’t want anything to do with them. If I ever see another rat again it’ll be too soon.”
The others nod, Bec vociferously.
“We have to head back to Grimbo.” Cas confirms and shakes Thistle’s hand, “Thanks, for everything. We’ll tell the council about what we’ve seen. And we’ll keep the gem safe, at the Church, send for it when you’ve got Molton Clay back up and running.” The Paladin manages a smile.
“Molton Clay is gone.” Thistle looks stern for a second, and then switches tack, “but I thank you for your efforts, without you… Anyway, keep the gem safe, and try to find out who the raiders were, I will make my own enquiries, if I hear anything, I’ll send word. Stay safe brave ones, the road is long…”

And with that the six mount up and head off through the woods, Jim straining on his saddle to see behind, but Mischa’s nowhere to be seen.

It takes the best part of a day to ride back to Grimbo, although none of them are in a rush to get back, it’s late evening when they arrive- fortunately the gate is open, and lit up like a Christmas tree, guards everywhere, and look- a bunch of them rushing towards them now.

A swarthy figure leads the charge, its Captain Khan; he’s here to greet them no doubt.

“Jim Bowen, Casimir La Frond, the man-child called Bec, Priestess Ala and the Wizard Anya- I have warrants for your arrest, resistance is futile.”

A heavily armed and armoured crowd gathers.

“You feckin…” Jim starts up.
Cas reaches across and grabs Jim’s arm, “we’ll come quietly, soldier.”
“I’m a Captain!”
“My mistake, I was getting ahead of myself, you may be a Captain now but you’ll be a soldier in the morning. Still, chin up, lovely weather we’re having.”
Cas admires the night sky as he wanders into the city, grinning.

The other members of the troop follow on, smiling down at the Captain, who’s short, even on horseback.

“Wait. Men, search them.”
“Hang on…” Newt trots over on Dobbin, “what about me, you missed me out.”
“Newt, if you’d…” Cas starts.
“Shut it face ache this is serious, how come you’re arresting them and not me?”
“I have my orders.” Khan goes to move off.
“We’ll see about that.” Newt spurs Dobbin on, alongside Khan’s mount and in an amazing feat of horsemanship, leans down and under the Captain’s horse, a dagger appears in the Gnome’s hand, slice, and the saddle strap is cut. Newt struggles back up and into his saddle.
“Oi, short arse.”
Captain Khan swivels around in his saddle, which instantly slips, snaps and sends him tumbling hard onto the dirt.

Ten minutes later the six adventurers, Newt in chains, make it to the city gaol, on Vicky Street.

Thirty minutes later they’re prisoners number 9112 to 9117 respectively.

And in single cells and yet seemingly prisoner in some special segregated dungeon, there are plenty more sells, all of which seem to be unused at present.

At least they can still talk to each other.

“Cas are you asleep?” Ala half-whispers, half-shouts.
“He’s not, but I am.” A foul looking tattooed wretch clangs into the bars of his cell, opposite Ala, obviously they’re not entirely alone. “Now shut up before I come over there little missy and…”

SPRUNG-CLATTER.

Another cell door,  a short way away, is smashed open- actually wrenched off its hinges, Bec walks out of the wreck as half-a-dozen guardsmen stumble into the far end of the passageway, they’re over thirty feet away from Bec, they stop, fumble for clubs, then decide to see how this is going to play out.

Bec stares at them for a moment then strides off towards Ala, turns and heads for the cell opposite, home to the foul looking, and rude, wretch. Bec grasps the bars, bends them a little, veins explode in his arms, he redoubles his efforts and wrenches them apart, leans in, grabs hold of the surly prisoner within and drags till the prisoners bald head is sticking out of the cell and into the passageway. Calm as you like Bec leans in and whispers something in the man’s ear.

Bec lets go and the prisoner dodges quickly back into the darkness and shadow of his cell. The Barbarian strides back the way he came, picks the door to his cell up and reverses into his new abode, wedging the door back in place as he goes. He leans back through the bars, and locks the door again- well, of a fashion.

A nervous soldier rushes over and fumbles a length of iron into place, a brace of sorts.

“Don’t do that again… please.” The soldier scuttles off.

Silence returns.

“I’m over here Ala, I take it we’re all present…”

The others sound of, they are indeed all present, they chat and snooze till morning comes, uninterrupted this time.

Next Turn: Newbies


----------



## Mahtave

Hey, did I miss something?  How did the fight end with Whiskers?

I think we are missing a story - To Love, Honour and Obey

Waiting patiently.....


----------



## Goonalan

Mahtave said:
			
		

> Hey, did I miss something?  How did the fight end with Whiskers?
> 
> I think we are missing a story - To Love, Honour and Obey
> 
> Waiting patiently.....




Sorry, my bad, off work at the moment with Shingles (apparently a Chicken Pox variant), taking a bunch of pain killers, anti-viral something's et al, including a yellow pill which puts me to sleep for five hours (guaranteed), the other stuff just makes me feel, well... a little light-headed.

Thanks for spotting.

I've appended "To Love, Honour and Obey" to Turn 43, so see above a ways, that way it's in the right order.

Thanks 

PS Spoilt the climax somewhat eh?


----------



## Goonalan

And then one day not everybody turned up and so we decided to do something different, but still Goodman Games, anyway a brief interlude while the Goodman Gang spend time in the slammer…

Dungeon Crawl Classics #29
Scenario 2 Old Feodol’s Basement
Level 1​
Turn 45: Newbies

Several weeks ago…

The Wheatsheaf Inn, midday, in the City of Grimbo, in the far corner a table of adventurers huddle and whisper, take turns to stare at the giant man at the bar nursing a small beer.

The first of the five neophyte adventurers is a male Dwarf, short and to the point, black studded leather armour, the studs polished to a high sheen, a huge Darkwood club sheathed in a sling on his back. His craggy face, neatly trimmed beard and facial hair, his smile a half-grimace, to look at him one would think him a taciturn Dwarven mercenary. 

The next figure, in stark contrast, an animated young Human woman all smiles and cleavage, nestled in the midst of which is a large skull pendent. Her robes are black, her clothes beneath likewise, although there’s the glint of hidden mail- she’s wearing way too much eye-liner, and lipstick, her hair has been died black, badly, her blonde roots shine through, she chews at her split ends.

The third figure a tall and thin young male Human wearing rough clothes, almost pyjama like, made of a coarse weave, they must itch, his head shaved except for a topknot, he eats peanuts from a small tray in the midst of the tavern table, savouring them, chewing each 32 times. His slightly oriental eyes dart about the room, although mostly watching the faces of his compatriots.

The fourth figure is as animated as the woman, a male Halfling sat on several cushions to boost himself up to the level of the table, expensive robes engulf his tiny frame, strange unknown sigils and question marks sewn into them with gold and silver thread. He’s wearing spectacles, wire framed but with very thick lenses, he shuffles and adjusts the small crossbow slung on his back.

The final figure is a very severe looking female Half- Elf, dressed all in black, except black for the fashion conscious, sleek and smooth, and yet dull, guaranteed to blend in with the shadows. Her hair drawn back and tied out of the way, her face pinched almost sour. She stirs an untouched drink and looks bored with the proceedings.

“I can’t believe that, I just can’t, what do you take me for? I just can’t believe it. I can’t… it’s just wrong; I can’t believe you even said that to him… What did he say? Did he say anything, did he? I can’t believe he’d just let that go, he’d have to say something wouldn’t he. Oh just tell me what he said why don’t you, just bloody tell me?” Drone the Dwarf bangs his hand down on the table, the drinks jump.
“I will if you’d let me…” Babs begins, the gothic looking woman with a cleavage you could ski down.
“Shhh he’s looking.” Professor Basil Collindor, Master of the Mundane and the Miraculous, the Halfling whispers.
The amateur adventurer’s effect disinterest, stare in random directions- certainly not at the giant man at the bar who’s eyeing them warily.

“I can’t believe he did that.” Drone mutters. “I can’t.”
“Shut up” Liana, the Half-Elf, in the dark leathers adds her twopenneth.
“I was only saying, that’s all, just saying… I just can’t believe he looked at us like that, like he was trying to psyche us out, crush us with his mind, maybe he has some sort of psychic powers.” Drone pats himself down, paying particular attention to his head, “do you feel any different, do you?” The Dwarf stares at Liana, she grimaces and reluctantly shakes her head.
“I can’t believe we’re actually here…” Drone looks about him, “in the same bar as the Goodman Gang, I mean they’re not all here now but… I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”

It goes quiet for a second, Skoda Octavia, the so far silent Human male stops chewing, “Wet bird never fly at night”, he shuffles out a pad of paper and the stub of a pencil, scribbles down his latest saying, and then resumes eating the peanuts.

“I can’t believe he said that…”
“Oh bloody shut up will you, Babs what did he say?” Liana snaps.
“Strange really”, Babs readjusts her skull shaped pendent, checks her nails and works on an aberrant cuticle, “he just whispered- Buffet.”
“I can’t believe…”
“Buffet?” The Professor looks nonplussed.
“Yep- Buffet.”
“What did you ask him?”
“Well I told him about the two jobs, do we help one brother or the other, he just grinned lent in and whispered, you know- Buffet, in my ear and then nodded towards my jigglies.”
“Your… Jigglies?” The Professor continues.
“You know… My jigglies.” Babs jiggles her jigglies.
“Oh, I see.”
Skoda meanwhile has fetched out his pad of paper and pencil, he scribes, “Buffet = Jigglies?”
“I can’t believe it.” Drone adds.

The silence stretches, mostly because Drone seems to be content to mumble to himself, he’s obviously deep in thought.

“Right.” The Professor announces, “the way I see it we have two options, both of which take us to Feodol’s Basement to recover the Will, incidentally. So all we have to decide is WHEN we find the Will who it should go to, which of the old Wizard’s children is the rightful heir.”
 “Your point?” Liana asks bored.
“My point is we’re going to get paid by one of them, it doesn’t matter which- provided we get the Will, if the worst comes to the worst then we can always keep it ourselves… although I’m not sure what for.”
Liana smiles, “You’ve got a point, we could bargain the price up.”
“What do we know about this guy, what are we going to find in his basement?” Babs asks while trying to slurp her cocktail, the umbrella keeps getting up her nose.
“Well he’s, or rather was, a Wizard…” Liana shrugs, “Professor?”

Professor Basil Collendor shuffles up a handful of peanut shells, shakes them in his fist, and then scatters them on the table. The other four stop what they’re doing to observe this great phenomenon, the shells slowly move- of their own accord. The Halfling mutters arcane phrases, the shells arrange themselves into the shape of a human-ish face, the strange visage has however unfeasibly large ears.

“I’m not certain- I have the feeling, looking at this creature’s countenance, we are going to encounter an idiot, a buffoon.” The Professor scrubs the nut shells off the table.

“I can’t believe that. I…”
“So we’ll meet at here at eight tomorrow morning, head over to Old Feodol’s and get this done.” Liana is up, and with a backwards nod, is gone.

The Professor leaps down from his high chair and follows Liana out, Drone, the Dwarf heads over to the bar, still muttering to himself. Babs sees someone she knows- “Hiya”, she grins and waves and heads off to find someone to lie on for the night.

Leaving Skoda Octavia all alone, the weird oriental makes his way out of the Wheatsheaf and into the rain of Grimbo, outside in the portico of the Inn a group of blackbirds huddle out of the rain.

He stares down at the largest of the avians; the one that has its beady eye on him.

“Cats and dogs.” The bird squawks and then shivers, and then motions its yellow bill in the general direction of the rain, “I’m not going out in that.”

Skoda nods sagely and then heads off into the dark streets of Grimbo.

Next Turn: Stats.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #29
Scenario 2 Old Feodol’s Basement
Level 1​
Turn 47: Stats

The following characters were ripped from Goodman Dungeon Crawl Classics #24, Legend of the Ripper, it was the nearest to hand that contained a bunch of first level pre-gens. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Drone​
Dwarf Male Fighter Level 1 
NG HP 12 AC 15 Init +2
Str 15 Dex 14 Con 15 Int 8 Wis 10 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +4 Ref +2 Will +0
Darkwood Great Club +4 d10+3 
Unarmed Strike -1/-5 d3+2/d3+1 
Armour: Studded Leather
Feats: Improved Unarmed Strike & Improved Grapple 
Skills of note: Intimidate +4

Items of note: Potion Cure Light Wounds, Potion Remove Fear, Flask of Cheap Whiskey.

Gate Keeper Barbara “Babs” Dallas​
Human Female Cleric of Wee Jas Level 1 
LN HP 10 AC 13 Init -1
Str 12 Dex 8 Con 15 Int 10 Wis 14 Ch 13 
Saves Fort +4 Ref -1 Will +4
Club +1 d6+1  
Light Crossbow -1 d8
Armour: Chain Shirt.
Feats: Endurance & Die Hard. 
Skills of note: Concentrate +4 Diplomacy +3 Heal +6 Spot +4

Items of note: Nothing.

Spell Domains Death & Law
Spells Level 0: 3 Level 1: 3+1

Skoda Octavio​
Human Male Monk Level 1 
LG HP 9 AC 14 Init +2
Str 12 Dex 14 Con 13 Int 10 Wis 15 Ch 8 
Saves Fort +3 Ref +4 Will +4
Unarmed Strike +1 (or Flurry of Blows -1/-1) d6+1 
Sling +2 d4+1
Armour: None
Feats: Dodge, Evasion, Improved Unarmed Strike, Mobility, Stunning Fist.
Skills of note: Appraise +4 Climb +3 Heal +4 Hide +4 Move Silently +3 Profession (Cook) +4 Sense Motive +6 Spot +4 

Items of note: Nothing.

Professor Basil Collindor​
Halfling Male Wizard’s (Diviner) Level 1 
CN HP 8 AC 13 Init +2
Str 6 Dex 14 Con 13 Int 15 Wis 14 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +5
Dagger -1 or +4 d3-2 
Light Crossbow +4 d6
Armour: None 
Feats: Toughness & Scribe Scroll 
Skills of note: Alchemy +4 Concentrate +5 Hide +7 Knowledge (Arcane) +6 Listen +4 Move Silently +4 Search +4 Spellcraft +4 

Spells Level 0: 3 Level 1: 3

Spellbook	Level 0: All except Illusion.
		Level 1: Hypnotism, Identify, Protection From Evil, True Strike.

Items of note: Scroll True Strike (1), Tindertwig.

Liana​
Half-Elf Female Rogue Level 1 
N HP 7 AC 14 Init +2
Str 10 Dex 15 Con 13 Int 14 Wis 8 Ch 12 
Saves Fort +1 Ref +4 Will -1
Rapier +0 d6 
Dagger (8) +0 or +2 d4
Armour: Black Leather
Feats: Nimble Fingers.
Skills of note: Appraise +4 Balance +6 Climb +4 Diplomacy +3 Disable Device +8 Gather Information +3 Hide +6 Move Silently +6 Open Lock +8 Search +7 Tumble +6 Use Rope +6

Items of note: 50 foot Silk Climbing Rope, Smoke Sticks, Thieves Tools, Vial of Acid.

Next Turn: The Angry Buffoon.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #29
Scenario 2 Old Feodol’s Basement
Level 1​
Turn 48: The Angry Buffoon


Although the basement only runs under a portion of the crumbling manor house, it is still quite a large room, cluttered despite its size. The northeast corner has a jumble of old children’s toys, a broken crate, and some casks on the floor. Drone quickly rushes over to investigate, “I can’t believe it”, delivered with a grin, soon turns to “I can’t believe it”, delivered with a grimace- the toys are all broken.

In the southwest corner is Old Feodol broken-down bed. Next to it is a desk that has all its drawers thrown on the ground. Just under the staircase is a battered armoire in similar condition. Liana heads over to scope the place, discovers only a pouch of tobacco, apple-scented, and a pipe- whatever else that was stored here has been taken.

Finally, in the southeast corner there is a long meeting table, now almost grey with dust, a mirror covered with a bed sheet, and a coat rack upon which hangs a red-chequered smoking jacket. The walls around this basement are adorned with a large map of the region – with notations pertaining to shipping routes and market needs – a fading portrait of Old Feodol himself in a younger day, and, over the bed, a well-maintained portrait of what must be his long-dead wife.

The Professor wanders over to the smoking jacket, attempts to slip it on, it’s much too big for the Halfling Wizard, he does however rifle the pockets and discover a small bag containing pieces of dry fruit, “Mmm.” The Halfling gingerly tastes a piece, it’s good- he continues to scoff the lot as he wanders around the chamber.

Babs throws the cloth from the mirror, spies herself, grins and preens, she musses her hair, the quest for better styling products an eternal dilemma.

“Do you think I should dye it again, do the roots?” She muses.
Skoda Octavia stops in his tracks and stares at Bab’s reflection in the mirror, he fingers his topknot, dismisses whatever thought plagued him and heads off.
“I think I should go red?” Bab’s informs nobody. 

Drone meanwhile has made his way to a stew pot on the table, looks inside- it’s empty, “I can’t believe…” he whispers, and then snatches up the ancient looking bone handled spoon on the table next to the pot, stuffs his ill-gotten gain away, and grins, “I can’t believe it”, he giggles.

“What’s up with you?” Liana asks.
“Nothing. I just can’t believe it, we’ve arrived too late- somebody’s been here, searched the place. We’re never going to find it now. I can’t believe we arrived too late- too late.” Drone wanders off.

“We’re not too late. They never found this…” Liana bends low and clicks something unseen at the base of a seemingly normal area of the stone wall, the Rogue yanks at something, and straightens, the wall moves up, now of its own accord.

“Genius Liana, genius.” The good Professor wanders over.

The secret door slides up to reveal red carpet stretching into a comfortable study. A well cushioned chair rests next to a pair of slippers and an empty fireplace on the far wall, the north wall features a workbench and shelf filled with beakers and tins. 

To the left, in the northwest corner, another large map lies spread out over a plain wooden desk complete with its own, less cushioned chair. There is a door on the southern wall. Suddenly, a low growl fills Liana’s ears, and from behind the desk stalks a large, dark furred dog, its legs stiff and ears flat against its head. It bares its teeth and snarls at the Rogue.


“Dog.” Liana screams and in one quick motion twirls a throwing dagger at the creature, catching it in its shoulder, the dog yelps in pain and rushes towards her.

“Errr.” The Rogue ponders for a split-second and then tumbles backwards out of the chamber, the snarling hound rushes after her into the first chamber, and straight into the path of Drone and Skoda.

“I can’t…“ Drone smashes his great club into the flank of the dog, bones shatter, seconds latter Skoda thumps his foot into the poor pooches skull, a loud crack, and the hound flops to the floor- dead.

“Hold hands.” Babs is quick to the scene, “form a circle, come on- I haven’t got all day.” Reluctantly, and with a crescendo of shrugs and sideways glances, the others obey.

The adventurers form a circle around the very dead dog, “Wee Jas take the spirit of this faithful hound whose dying wish was to defend its master’s home, lift up its bones to the great ossuary in the sky, its spirit to run free in the Elysium Fields chasing butterflies, and burying bones. We commend this animal’s soul to your safe keeping. Harm’em.”

“Say it.”
“Harm’em.” The others comply feebly.

“Now break free.” Babs shatters the circle flinging her hands free, half-heartedly the others follow suit, still exchanging nervous glances. “Now wash yourself clean.” Babs wriggles, jiggles and generally fondles herself all over in a half-erotic imitation of washing.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Liana wanders off.
The others are not such bad sports, Drone nearly loses his spoon, so rigorous is his scrubbing.

“Babs, or rather Gate Keeper Barbara, do we have to do that every time something dies?”
“It is Wee Jas’ wish.”
“I see, is there perhaps a shorter version… something that you could do, on your own, and perhaps, for instance if we were in the middle of something, how shall I put it… dangerous, is there perhaps just something you can say, maybe even just whisper- to yourself?”
“Wee Jas permits me to forego the ceremony and instead offer up prayer for the spirits passing.”
“Good, can we go with that in future?”
“It would be acceptable Professor.” Gate Keeper Babs nods and three, two, one… returns to her normal self.

She shakes her hair out, “poor doggie-woggie”, she pats the dead hound, “what does dog taste like, anybody?”
“I can’t believe it.” Drone wanders off.

Skoda has his pencil and paper out, he’s drawing a picture of Babs washing, it’s very good, with all the wobble lines in the right places.

The Professor makes his way over to the map, grabs it up and heads back into the first chamber to compare and contrast the two, he’s not sure what to make of them, they’re both of the local area surrounding Grimbo, the second seems to have been annotated indicating new developments, logging areas, and in particular the expansion of Molton Clay- supposedly a centre for peace, love and understanding, some sort of Druidical settlement. The Professor stores the information for later use.

Skoda meanwhile reaches up onto a shelf and lifts down two tins, the first is marked ‘REMEMBER’, he opens it- there are nearly a dozen black berries within, he shrugs and places it down on the table. The second tin is marked “Helpful. REMEMBER”, he opens it- there’s a candle inside, half-spent, it smells of cinnamon. Skoda fetches out his notebook and scribbles “REMEMBER.”

The Professor wanders over, “Goodberries.”
“What?” Liana wanders over, followed by the others.
“Goodberries- good for healing, Druids… ahhh.”
“What?” Liana repeats herself.
“Nothing. Goodberries- good for healing, take a few each.
The Professor shares out the hoard.
“And what’s this?” He sniffs the candle, “Cinnamon. Hang on… We appear to be in a mystery.”
“What?” Liana’s got her big speech nailed.
“Hang on.” The Professor shuffles through his backpack, eventually emerges with two slips of paper, the notes the adventurers received from the two interested parties competing for Old Feodol’s last Will and Testament. “Remember these?” The Professor nods, and then reads-

“Greetings.

You have – oh adventurers – this day a unique opportunity to earn the favour of a powerful wizard, namely myself. In the basement of my father’s manor there will be a green leather-bound book. It is his last will and testament. I need it retrieved and brought to my agent, Gilles Beir. This must be done in haste as my sibling,
Larissa of The Nunny, is also keen on possessing this item. I am certain she means to forge a fake. 

I assure you I would do no such thing.

For this service I will pay each of you a sum of three hundreds of gold, in whatever coinage or gemstones you see fit. As I said, you will also have my gratitude. Rest assured that is preferable to having my enmity. I would aid you in this matter but my attentions are required elsewhere at this moment and time is of the essence. I mention this one thing in passing, although I cannot deduce how it can be of use to you: my father once sharply said to me that the only time my sibling and I worked together was in the basement. I assumed he was referring to a forgotten incident from our childhood, but now I am not so certain.

Gilles will await your successful return.

Dennel Batharda.”

The Professor scans the expectant faces, “Oh hang on, it’s not that one, however I am intrigued by the phrase- “my father once sharply said to me that the only time my sibling and I worked together was in the basement”, I think there’s more to that than meets the eye- we’ll see. Oh hang on, this is it.”

The Professor reads out the second note.

“Friends,

My dear, dear father recently passed on, and I fear that my villainous brother Dennel intends to cheat me out of my proper inheritance. I believe he will try to steal my father’s will and forge a fake that favours him. So underhanded is he! I need some true friends to go into my father’s basement and get his will first! It will be a leather-bound book the colour of a spring leaf.

I would be oh so pleased if you could give this book to my friend Aronarg. If you do, he will have 400 gold apiece for you. I would go myself but the thought of entering that basement…it just makes me tear up. I can remember how he always smelled like cinnamon when he came upstairs, probably his pipe smoke. Oh father! Aronarg will wait for you to get the book. Do hurry! My brother will not hesitate to hire some dastardly mercenaries to do his dirty work.

Fortunately I have friends. We are friends, aren’t we?

L.”

The Professor scans the crowd again.
“Well, don’t you see?”
Liana sighs, “WHAT?”
“Cinnamon, dear girl. Cinnamon.”
The Professor fetches the candle, holds it up, sniffs it, and then passes it round for others to do the same, “It smells of cinnamon.”
“What use is that?” Liana folds her arms across her chest.
“Well I don’t know… yet. But I’ll bet you it’s important. I think we should take the candle.” The Professor nods frowning, serious.
“I’ve heard of this thing Ear-candling, they light candles in your ears and the warm vapours draw out all of your impurities, dirty thoughts, and desire to do destruction unto your self and others… I read it somewhere. I didn’t fancy it; I might have got wax in my hair…” Babs offers.
“I can’t believe it.”
“No, I can’t either, and it was expensive.”
“Babs- what is it you do, or did, I mean before you started adventuring?” Liana enquires.
“I worked in the Coroners Office for Gleethorpe.”
“Oh. As what?”
“The Coroner.” Babs smiles and loosens a strap on her backpack, it instantly converts into an over the shoulder style handbag, she rifles inside and settles on a hand mirror, checks her hair.

Search over the group move through the southern door, led by Drone this time, and through a short passage beyond, this basement is proving to be much bigger than they first expected.

The mystery of Old Feodol continues to unfold in this next room. Just around a bend in the corridor, the adventurer’s enter what seems to be a trophy room. A ruined suit of plate armour stands against the north wall, with a plaque reading “Lord Arnost” at its feet. It stands next to a weapons rack filled with various kinds of saw blades and a plaque that reads “Orindale Logging Interests.” The final object on the wall is what looks like a simple roadside sign. It reads, “Molton Clay.” 

The south wall bears several framed and hung documents and the mounted head of a hideous creature. A dark yellowish colour, it looks insect-like but has the eyes of a horse; beneath each eye limply hangs a featherlike antenna. A wooden door stands at the opposite end of the room, there also seems to be a passageway branching off to the south.

The ceiling is much higher in this room, perhaps 13 feet, a ledge runs along the wall at about 10 feet high, and skittering and pointing on the ledge are a family group of small monkeys.

“Ahhh.” Babs begins, “shoot them”, she finishes, “don’t let them get anywhere near my hair.”
“Dear lady” The Professor bows, and fwung, fires a crossbow bolt into the happy family group, killing the smallest of the creatures instantly, the three remaining seem less pleased, they screech and holler, strike war-like poses. Babs fires her crossbow but misses by a mile.

“I can’t believe it.” Drone stares around at his companions, including Skoda twirling his sling, getting his eye in, “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT.” Drone rushes out into the centre of the chamber flapping and waving his hands making harsh animal sounds, “AAARRRGHHGERRRRRROFFFFFIIIICCCAAANNNTTBBBEEELLLIIEEEVVEEEIIIITTTTYYYOOOUUURRSSSSHHHOOOOOOOTTTTIINNGGMMOONNKKKEEEYSSSS.”

The monkeys flee in terror, along the ledge into the room beyond the far door.

Drone turns to stare at his brave companions, about to berate them for their violence.

SWISH-DUNG

Skoda looks instantly sorry, his sling bullet catches Drone square in the face, breaking the Dwarf’s nose, actually liberally re-distributing it around the his face.

“IIIICCCAAANNNTTBBBEEELLLIIEEEVVEEEIIIITTTT.”

Drone rushes at Skoda barrels into the young Monk before he can move, the Dwarf’s momentum carries the pair backward, Skoda crunches hard into the suit of Plate Armour, which collapses and smashes onto the pair. Drone emerges from the tangled pile, Skoda soon follows, the Monks left arm at an odd angle, actually dangling and bent backwards.

The Monk looks stoic, adopts a combat stance and shuffles out to meet the Dwarf, who tears and claws at the air- a grappler’s stance.

“People… People…” The Professor begins.

Babs makes it to the body of the fallen monkey, she prays and mutters, “Holy Wee Jas send the spirit of this fine monkey to the tangled bows of…” 

CRUNCH

A rock, not unaided, drops off the ledge above the Priestess of Wee Jas and smashes into her unprotected skull; she folds like a pack of cards, “My hair…”, her last words.

“Feck this.” Liana begins and edges towards the door, the monkeys are back in the room and are throwing things.

Drone and Skoda face off, dance around each other for a while, Drone swings for the Monk’s head.

THUNK-SWISH

Drone misses, entirely because the Monk takes a stone to the temple and flops to the floor.

THUNK

Another small rock thumps into the small of Drone’s back, the Fighter spins around to see the three remaining monkey stone throwers heading off to reload, the Dwarf sags, he’s almost down, “I can’t believe it”, he whispers through blood-flecked lips.

Next Turn: The Angry Buffoon Part Deus


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #29
Scenario 2 Old Feodol’s Basement
Level 1​
Turn 49: The Angry Buffoon Part Deus

“I’ll get you madam.” The Professor rushes over to Babs who’s using the wall to lever herself upright, a trickle of blood wends its way down her face, then the Halfling’s there and using all his strength to haul her upright.

The Professor hears something- looks up, the monkeys are back, and about to shove another rock onto his head, he dives aside.

CRUNCH

The rock instead connects with Babs’ ankle, snaps it, she crumples to the floor screaming, “Wee Jas kill them bastard monkeys now…”

BONK

Another stone hits The Professor on the shoulder, he staggers and then looks about him- Skoda lies lifeless on the floor, Drone staggers about looking for somewhere to vent his rage,  Liana hides behind the door frame, out of the chamber- at least she’s fumbling her crossbow out, another rock crashes against the far wall, Liana ducks out of sight.

“Shoot the little bastards.” The Professor yells and heaves out his crossbow, the monkey’s caper a second and then head back out of sight, going for more ammo no doubt.

Drone spies his future. He spots the far door- to the chamber beyond, where the monkeys keep disappearing to reload.

“AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH.”

He charges into the door.

CRUNCH

Bounces back, not a mark on the portal, collapses onto the ground clutching his side.

“Liana the door.” Babs screams.

The Rogue pops her head around the door frame, spots its all clear and rushes over, her opportunity is short-lived, the monkeys reappear in an instance, more stones in hand- they fling them at the approaching Half-Elf, who is struck twice in quick succession.

Liana dodges back from the stinging blows, and tramples The Professor in her retreat.

FWUNG-THUNG

Alas Liana’s hit causes the Professor to fire his crossbow; the bolt hits Liana at point blank range, buries itself in the Rogues armour, but doesn’t pierce her skin. The two stand for a second in a shocked tableau.

“Open door.” Drone staggers to his feet, stares hard at Liana and then points at the offending portal.
Liana nods and heads over.
“Don’t. Just shoot them.” The Professor rushes, as best he can, to Drone and hands over his crossbow, “Shoot them. Shoot them Drone.”

The Dwarf looks around unsure, then nods, “I can’t believe…”
“I know.” The Professor clasps the Dwarf on his arm.
Drone retreats and stands sentry waiting for the monkeys return.

“Help me get to Skoda.” Babs shouts and snaffles the two Goodberries she clutches, The Professor does the best he can to drag the Priestess over to the fallen Monk.

“It’s locked.” Liana turns back to Drone, shrugs.
“I bloody know that, now get it unlocked. I can’t believe you even said that.”

Babs reaches out for Skoda, lays her hand on him, healing flows in- the Monk opens his eyes, shakes his head once, twice, then leaps to his feet- cat-like. He grabs the fallen Priestess, firmly but gently, lifts and drags her out of the chamber.

“Take my crossbow.” She passes her weapon to The Professor.

THONG

A rock thumps into the Halfling’s back, signalling the monkeys return.

“Fire.” Drone screams, and shoots a bolt straight up into the ceiling of the chamber, then dodges its return.

FWUNG

The Professor is much more accurate, another of the little bastards tumbles from the ledge, lies lifeless on the floor.

“Blessed be the sodding monkey- dead, dead, DEAD.” Babs lies on the floor observing the battle from the doorway.

The last pair of monkeys rush off, to reload again. Skoda meanwhile approaches Drone, sling in hand, taps the sentry Dwarf on his shoulder, Drone turns, the Monk looks peaceable- bows low before the Dwarf. Drone nods back and scans the ledge.

The monkeys return with a hail of stones, but this time the adventurers are ready, they duck and dodge and avoid the sudden blizzard.

“Open”, Liana turns to stare at Drone, who fires his crossbow, a little more accurate, but not a lot- the bolt flies well wide. The Dwarf slings the crossbow away and barrels into the chamber beyond.

THWUNG

The Professor grins as another of the creatures slips off the ledge and mewls a while before dying on the floor.

“Jigglies.” Skoda screams and lets fly with his sling.

DONK

The sling bullet hits the door ahead, only six inches above Drone’s head, the Dwarf doesn’t even notice, or at least pretends not to.

The Dwarf gets three feet inside the chamber beyond when a very angry screaming Baboon leaps down onto his back, scratching and clawing at him. Drone wrenches the thing over his head, grapples the creature attempting to keep its claws and bite at arms length.

The door wobbles shut behind the Dwarf, Liana gingerly reaches forward to open it to observe the melee, only to be met by the cold stare of another Baboon, the creature comes at her flailing and biting, the Rogue tumbles backwards, but not quick enough, she’s bitten badly on her foot, blood pours from the wound.

“Oh Wee Jas Bless these holy warriors as they battle to bring swift death to our enemies.” Babs’ spell lifts the spirits, momentarily, of her compatriots, “Now kill the sodding dirty apes.”

Fwung

The Professor misses with his crossbow, somewhat distracted by a screaming Liana trying to avoid another claw or bite, the Rogue manages to palm the creature away, but cannot get to draw her dagger.

Skoda charges into the room beyond, at the same instant Drone finally heaves the Baboon off him, the hairy ape flops to the floor, turns to re-engage and is met by a flying foot, the creature slumps to the ground- skull broken. Skoda holds the pose for a second, then turns and comes to attention before the Dwarf, bows again.

“Arrrgggghhh” Liana clutches at her neck, which has been ripped open, she crumples. The Baboon sniffs her body and then turns to stare at The Professor. 

The door smashes open and Drone and Skoda rush to intercept the Baboon’s charge, The Professor back pedals furiously away from the fight.

The last of the smaller monkeys leaps and lands on Drone’s back, lashes forward and scratches him across his face, which arrests the Dwarf’s charge. Drone reaches round and grabs hold of the tiny monkey’s skull, wrenches the creature from him, then grabs and twists with his other hand.

SNAP

Neck broken- dead.

“Kill the things. Sorry Wee Jas, blessed soul, commend to your dark whatsit… Kill them all.” Babs screams from the doorway.

Skoda smashes into the Baboon intent on killing The Professor, the Monk however is off balance and is quickly losing ground, bitten on the shoulder, badly, the Baboon hangs on jaws locked shut on the Monks right clavicle.

The Professor sees his opportunity, mutters arcane words, a burst of light erupts in the Baboon’s face, the creature squawks and flails, instantly let’s go of the Monk and staggers back rubbing furiously at its eyes.

CRACK

A roundhouse kick, straight to the final Baboon’s temple, the creature flops to the floor- dead.

Those standing snaffle Goodberries, Babs is dragged over to Liana, she’s alive- just. The Priestess does what she can to stabilise the Rogue.

“Wee Jas is not ready to take you yet Half-Elf, I will do all I can to prevent your passing, don’t worry…” She tenderly examines Liana’s wounds, “there’s plenty more suffering for you to endure Rogue before you will be received in the halls of my master.”

Next Turn: Pick sides.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #29
Scenario 2 Old Feodol’s Basement
Level 1​
Turn 50: Pick sides.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t.” Drone drains his Potion of Healing then looks round at his compatriots, who are a little the worse for wear.

The Professor helps Babs to her feet, between the pair of them they have fashioned a fairly serviceable splint, the Priestess of Wee Jas is reduced to a halting, hopping stumble. Babs uses a chair as a kind of walking frame.

“Wee Jas take you, you sodding monkeys.” She rails against the inequities of life.

The Professor is a little beaten up too, although nowhere near as bad as Skoda, the Monk however barely shows it, although he must be hurting bad such are the extent of the cuts and bruises, and bites, he has sustained.

Liana lies face down on the floor- stable but very unconscious.

“I have no more healing.” Babs explains.
“Let’s explore this room- but stay on your guard.”

The Professor moves to look at the collection of saws, “the Orindale loggers”, he muses, “weren’t they operating somewhere near Lacey, on the road to K-Stor. Yes, I remember the story, they were attacked, many were killed… I wonder, hang on.” The Professor admires the next exhibit in the trophy room, he reads- “Molton Clay, I told you… that’s that crazy Druid settlement, this stinks- there’s something not right here.”

Drone wanders down the short passage that heads off south.

CLANG

A heavy portcullis falls behind him, trapping the Dwarf in the empty corridor.

Drone turns and tiredly states, while gripping the bars, “I can’t believe it.”
Two minutes later after much huffing and puffing the portcullis is raised and he’s out.

“Careful.” The Professor warns. Babs sits down on a chair, she’s exhausted, “I can’t go on, I’ll keep watch.” She sits so she can see both exits, produces a small mirror and piece of tissue, and attempts to scrub the blood from her face.

“I was right”, The Professor points for Skoda who reaches up and grabs a framed document from the southern wall, “This is from Thistle, its thanking Old Feoldol, says he’s ‘atoned many times over’, I wonder what for? Clearly Old Feodol did some bad things in his time.” The Professor heads over to the far door.

“We’ll just see what’s next door.”
“I’ll stay here and watch Liana.” Babs calls back.
Liana remains sprawled upon the floor.

Like the trophy room, the Baboon chamber has 13’ tall ceilings and a ledge running along the wall. Unlike the trophy room, it smells strongly of musk and wet fur. Knotted ropes hang from the ceiling all the way to the floor along the walls, and in the far corners of the room are large ceramic vases filled with smooth, round stones. There is also a door in the far wall, and an iron door in the north wall. Bits of hay are strewn all about the floor of the chamber.

Drone and Skoda head for the far door, the Dwarf whips it open, there’s a small larder beyond, more dried fruit, casks of water, sacks of grain and flour, otherwise it’s empty.

The Professor makes his way to the impressive looking iron door, notices a small hatch in the base of the portal, he bends low to examine it, unlatches it and attempts to spy within.

SHUFFLE

There’s something moving in there, he notices drips of hardened wax on the floor within the chamber beyond, he slams the smaller door shut.

“There’s something in there.” The Professor states.

Skoda and Drone wander over, “What is it Professor, what lies beyond the door, is it Feodol’s Will do you think? Professor?”

The Halfling cautiously reaches out to the handle of the door, touches it- nothing happens, grasps it and turns- nothing happens again, it’s locked. “Damn.”

“Professor?” Drone asks again.
“Whatever it is within there is somehow rendered helpless by this candle”, The Professor shows the pair the cinnamon scented candle, “Old Feodol lit it and then placed it in the chamber through the small door, there are spots of wax on the floor there. Then he used his key to open the door to get to… well, whatever’s in there, his last Will and Testament no doubt. Only we haven’t got the key.”

“I can’t believe we’re so close”, Drone gingerly shoves at the door, it’s solid, and he doesn’t want to hurt his shoulder again, “so near and yet so far.”

“Not a problem Drone, we just need to head out, fix up Liana and then return here, we can get some healing for Babs while we’re gone, of course you two may have to stay behind to guard the place.”

Skoda nods, then Drone.

“Shouldn’t take long… Come on.” The Professor whistles a happy tune and strides back out of the chamber and back to Babs.

Five minutes later, Skoda carrying the recumbent Liana, and with Babs leaning heavily on Drone the intrepid five-some make their way back into the very first chamber, which is almost exactly as they left it.

The main difference being the two intruders there waiting for them.

One, a gaunt man with thinning black hair, dressed in red robes with strange designs worked on the sleeves and hem; Gilles Bier, an agent of Dennel Batharda, the Vermillion Wizard, son of Old Feodol. 

The other a Hobgoblin, a hulking brute with braided black hair and a necklace of knucklebones. His armour is dented, and he hefts a trident with familiarity bred from battle; Aronarg, Larissa Batharda’s Nunny enforcer. 

Both seem to be trying to ignore the other, and therefore are keenly gazing at the adventurers, searching for the green leather-bound Will.

“Where is it?” Gilles whispers, “Show it to me for I represent the rightful heir.”
“Da book is mine.” Aronarg grunts and sneers at Gilles.
“I can’t be…”
“Actually we’ve encountered a spot of bother…” The Professor starts up silencing Drone.
“What… bother?” Gilles spits out.
“Our Rogue is a little under the weather, we are in need of Healing, we have used all ours, although the Priestess”, Babs smiles and grimaces, “has many spells remaining, as do I.”
“Da book is mine.” Aronarg grunts again.
“Yes, yes. Only it’s nobodies yet- we can’t get to it without Liana, and so we’ll just leave, get some Healing and then return, I think it would be best if you gentlemen went with us. Drone and Skoda will stay here to keep it safe.”
“Da book is mine.” Aronarg grunts once more.
“HELLO. Anybody home, the Will is not yet found we need Healing- do you understand?” The Professor does his best to mime his speech, finally pointing at the fallen Liana.
Aronarg nods and heads for the door- understanding at last.
“Nobody leaves.” Gilles snaps.
The Hobgoblin ignores the Wizard and goes to open the door out of the basement, it’s stuck fast, he rattles it again and then puts his shoulder to it- which only results in some minor bruising, and a little dented pride.
“Nobody leaves, I have woven mighty magics, the door will stay shut until I command, now take this”, the Wizard hands over a Potion bottle, and in doing so winks at The Professor, “this will see her right… Then return to me with the Will.”
“Da book is mine.” Aronarg grunts.
“Hurry Professor, we’ll be waiting.” Gilles winks again, “and try to remember who your friends are.”

A minute or so later Liana is back on her feet, a little woozy but a lot better than she was, they’re back in the chamber with the iron door.

The Professor lights the candle, slips it inside the hatch, and bolts it back shut again, the Halfling presses himself against the door- listening intently. 

“Who were those other two guys?” Liana enquires.
“The reception committee, now shush, the lot of you.” The Professor continues to listen.

The silence lengthens.

“I can’t believe…”
“Shut up.” The Professor snaps.

SHUMP

The Professor presses his ear to the door again.

“I think…” Then bends down and opens the hatch, stares within for a while- there’s nothing to see, it’s mostly dark, other than the cold stone floor, illuminated by the flickering candle, there’s not much else to see.

The Professor crouches, stares and waits- nothing continues to happen.

“Liana- open it. Skoda and Drone, be ready.”
The pair nod and Liana gets to work.

And only thirty seconds later a satisfying click signals her success.

“Done Professor.”

The Rogue clears out of the way.

“Ready?”

The pair nod again, Drone hefts his great club, Skoda settles for a fighting stance.

EEEEEEEE

The door squeaks open and the adventurer’s light floods in.

The hourglass-shaped room is 15 feet across at its widest points, 5 feet across at its most narrow, and 30 feet long. 

It is completely empty except for a table against the far wall, resting atop the table is a slim, green leather-bound book, a letter, and what looks like four large emeralds, and two small vials.

“Wait.” The Professor commands, “Drone fetch some flour.”
“I can’t…”
“Just do it… please.”

The Dwarf complies and returns with a small sack of flour.

“Now I want you and Liana to head over to the table, except I want you Liana to search the way for traps, and you Drone, when Liana’s done to sprinkle the flour on the floor.”
“Why me, and why the flour?” Liana enquires.
“You, my dear, because you are the best at finding traps; and the flour because I believe there’s something in there we don’t want to bump into- whatever it is may be invisible, and undoubtedly dangerous. Now quickly while the candle still burns.”

The Rogue and the Fighter nod, and creep in.

“I can’t believe… oh hang on, Professor, there’s something here.”
“What does it look like?”
“A pile of rags, or… a plant.”

The flour shows the outline of an inert tangle, a plant structure, for now nothing more than a mass of tubers on the ground.

“Smash it Drone. Smash it good.”

WHUMP
WHUMP

After the second or third strike Drone starts to take a pride in his work, Liana has to back off to give the Dwarf room to swing- the mystery creatures is soon mashed and pulped.

“I can’t believe it. How did you know Professor?”
“We each have our talents Drone. Now press on.”

A minute later, and with no more surprises, the five-some are reassembled, back outside the now sealed again iron door with their haul.

“Healing potions- give me one of those.” Babs grabs a bottle and glugs it down, and seconds later her ankle is as good as new, “what’s it say?”

The Professor has hold of Old Feodol’s last Will and Testament, he opens it and reads.

“To you who found this letter,

I hope my pets were not such a bother for you- ‘oh not much, they damn near killed us you old fool.’ They were not really to hurt intruders so much as my ungrateful children. ‘Here we go.’ I hope you were able to get past them without hurting them…they were a comfort for me in my last years. ‘Sorry but they had to die, isn’t that right Babs?’”

The Gate Keeper nods then grins, smacking her fist into the palm of her hand, The Professor reads on.

“But you have not come to read about me. ‘Too true.’ I would wager you have come for my money, or were sent by one of the kids for my will. ‘Or both.’

I know you owe me nothing and probably have needs of your own, but hear me out:
When I was young I did a few very stupid things. ‘Who hasn’t?’ One of those things led to the death of a good person who had shown me kindness – a druid. I have spent my entire life – and most of my fortune! – making amends by helping her allies with money or influence. ‘I bloody knew it- Druids, they can’t be trusted.’

Please, it is my last request that this will, and the treasure map it contains, be given to Thistle at Molton Clay. Let my last act be one of charity, and let the druids have the last of my fortune. ‘He’s obviously gone soft.’ Please accept these gems and healing draughts as payment for this last request, and for any troubles my family and I have caused you.

Thank you,

Feodol Batharda.”

The adventurers stop to think.

“Well…”
“So it’s neither of them, it’s this Thistle.” Liana adds.
“I can’t…”
“No, neither can I.” The Professor finishes.
“I mean I…” Drone starts again.
“Can’t be-leaf it.” Skoda offers as if trying the language for the first time.
“Well, we’ll just have to let them down gently.”

The Professor marches off.

“And people have something either pointy or blunt to hand; I think this may end in a little contretemps.”

“A little what?” Babs whispers to Drone.
“Condy-stomps, it’s Halfling for a fight.” Drone puts the Priestess right.
“Oh thanks.”

Just before the door back into the first chamber Babs and The Professor hold the others back a moment, whisper arcane words, prepare their spells.

“Ready.” The Professor asks.
The others nod.

Liana opens the door back into the chamber, Aronarg and Gilles stare intently as the Halfling wanders in clutching the last Will and Testament of Old Feodol.

Next Turn: A Little Condy-Stomps.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classics #29
Scenario 2 Old Feodol’s Basement
Level 1​
Turn 51: A Little Condy-Stomps.

“I think that belongs to me.” Gilles steps towards The Professor, who clutches the book to his chest.
“Da book is mine.” Aronarg has other ideas.

The Professor swallows hard, “actually it belongs to neither of you.”

“What?” Gilles comes to a halt.
“Wat?” The Hobgoblin echoes Gilles.

“The last Will and Testament states that Old Feodol’s treasure… Well, it belongs to Thistle, he’s a Druid in Molton Clay, Old Feodol left everything to him… So, you see.” The Professor spreads his hands wide, still clutching the book.

“Hand it over, now.” Gilles puts his hand out to take the tome, “Now.”

KNOCK KNOCK

Everything stops.

“Let me in.” It’s a woman’s voice at the door, “I have come from Thistle in Molton Clay to collect what is rightfully his- let me in.”

“Who dat?”
“Never mind who that is- the Will is mine.”

Aronarg dives in to intercept Gilles on the path to grab the Will from The Professor, who steps back into the crowd of his compatriots.

The Hobgoblin shakes his trident in Gilles face. The Wizard looks put out.

“Put that thing away, or I’ll destroy you?” The Wizard mumbles arcane words.
Aronarg attacks, but Gilles is too quick, he dodges back out of the way, “help me kill this Hobgoblin scum and I will double your reward.”

Drone dodges forward, Skoda grabs the Dwarves arm, shakes his head.

A white mist suddenly engulfs the Hobgoblin; the mist evaporates swiftly, leaves the Hobgoblin untouched. “Now yu die, Wizud.”

“AAAARRRGGGGHHH.” 

Drone breaks free of Skoda’s grip and smashes his great club into the back of the Hobgoblin’s skull.

CRACK

Years of racial enmity bubble over.

“I can’t…”

WHUMP

Drone swings again as the Hobgoblin spins around to face the Dwarf, this time he’s wide of the mark.

“Get the Wizard.” The Professor screams, “try not to kill either of them.”

Liana rushes in and tumbles past the Wizard, who is suddenly bathed in a bright blue light as his Mage Armour takes affect, “Triple money?”, the Wizard screams.

The Professor shakes his head, “surrender?”
“Never, and that’s my last word on the subject.” And so it is.
Skoda leaps in and kicks the Wizard in the face, Gilles folds and thumps into the floor, knocked out.

Aronarg menaces Drone, who scuttles back out of reach, the Hobgoblins trident spears out towards the Dwarf, he dodges round and smashes his great club into the creature’s weapon, which spins from his hands.

The Hobgoblin backs up towards the door, grappling for his short sword.

THUMP

Drone stabs his club into the Hobgoblins gut, the creature drops his short sword too, Aronas quick turns and races to the door, tries to wrench it open- however the spell is still in place.

The Hobgoblin turns back, puts his hands in the air.

“I keel yu sum udder day.”

Drone grins back, “I definitely don’t believe that.”

The Professor strides forward, grins at Aronarg, “strip.”

Twenty minutes later Aronarg and Gilles are sitting naked tied up on the cold stone floor, all their equipment gone.

The door opens at last and a female Elf, dressed in woodland robes, enters the chamber, “the Will please… I have been sent by Thistle.”

The Professor looks around the chamber, the expectant faces of his compatriots.

“How do we know…” The Professor begins.

But Skoda is quicker still; he grabs the Will from The Professor, and at lightning speed hands it to the Elf, the Monk bows.

“Thistle thanks you, if you ever have need then do not hesitate to call on our services, we are in your debt. I must be off, back to Molton Clay, to Thistle.”

The Elf turns to leave.

“I can’t believe…”
“Is that it?” The Professor adds.

“Yes, except thank you again.” The Elf stops, turns back.

“Do you know a man called Jim Bowen, a Ranger?”
“I’ve heard of him.” The Professor confesses.
“Tell him… Tell him…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”

Mischa turns back, leaves quickly.

The silence returns.

“I can’t believe…”
“Shush”, Skoda clamps his hand over Drone’s mouth.

In the background Liana grabs the mirror from the wall; it has a lovely silver frame.

They head out, mission accomplished.

Next Turn: Review.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Excellent interlude Goonalan.

I must ask, given what you've said before - how much of the characterisation (Dwarf as Richard Wilson etc) was the players, and how much your own addition?


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## Goonalan

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> Excellent interlude Goonalan.
> 
> I must ask, given what you've said before - how much of the characterisation (Dwarf as Richard Wilson etc) was the players, and how much your own addition?




This one's more the players, we've had a meeting, of sorts, I think the deal is with Jim, Bec, Cas, Anya, Newt & Ala that the players want to get places. It's a strange world; I've been playing D&D (DMing) for over twenty years and yet I've not run many extended campaigns, ones where the characters go from level 1 to, say level 15, it's always the case that someone drops out because of work/home pressure, and sometimes it's been me which tends to bring things to a halt. However now I find myself with a bit more time to play, and write, although I'm pretty busy at the moment it'll all quieten down by February next year, so we grabbed a few pre-gens and decided to just have fun- a liberating experience.

So the Goodman Gang will continue to be a ludology thing- it's all for the gameplay- experience points etc; while every now and then we'll play the little guys which will be entirely for kicks, if they die, they die. With the main party the players do everything they can to win/stay alive.

And then Goodman Games 51 came about- damn, an entire campaign in one box set... It was all too tempting and so we've got the pre-gens out of that and we're playing it this Saturday- that was one of the other decisions that came out of our little meeting.

We've even committed to playing more often, we're going from one to two sessions per month to four sessions- every weekend if we can, even if it means we have to be on-line to play (although I'm not certain how that's going to work- any advice). It's all working out well in other words...

I don't know how they're going to turn out, the characters from Dungeon Crawl Classics 51, but they look very good on paper, a sort of half-way house between the two other sets of players. I particularly like the Bingo brothers- hopefully it'll be good enough for me to write up.

The Goodman Gang are on turn 51 at the moment, I've got more than twenty turns written up still to come and there are still five more scenarios that we've played that I've got the notes on to write up, so there's plenty to go at, I'm not going to get caught up any time soon.

Hope that answers at least part of the question, as I say any advice on the on-line thing, and any other comments then I'm happy to hear them.

Thanks, as always.

Oh and we've already played two more scenarios with the little guys, so I'll drop them in some time soon, whenever there's a lull in the action.


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## Pedestrian

Hey Goonalan,

I'm currently engaged in rp over the internet. It's quite simple, we're just using MSN and the dice roller off of wizards website. I find i enjoy it more than actual face to face rp, as it is less hectic. I think my players miss the personal interaction, but there you go.

Some things I've found that help me run, and with the understanding this is done over MSN, are the little details. Things like having everyone set their screen name to their character's, and choose a different colour text so I can tell who is saying what. For my part, being able to pull up links to bits of artwork for the players is a golden opportunity.

We're playing the Red Hand of Doom, which has a dedicated art gallery (also on the wizard's site) and being able to grab a picture and say "here is what you see" "this is Lord Jarmaath" is brilliant. I'm going to try and expand my use, so that people like Alexander the Ruby Knight has a face, and some other encounters too.

More technical stuff, like Voice over IP and dedicated gaming programs, someone else will have to comment on.


----------



## Goonalan

Excellent advice as always Loup, I will investigate MSN- and I'm laughing as I type this because I don't even know what MSN is, I have heard of it however, which is a start- when I said I was a neophyte when it comes to computers I really wasn't kidding.

Three of my players are I.T. people so I will delegate much of the work anyway, I've used the on-line dice-roller before so that's not a problem, I guess I'll have to trust them to tell the truth about their rolls, I predict a spate of 20s and no fumbles for ages.

Thanks as always.

A short one this time, the review before we get back to the Goodman Gang.

Dungeon Crawl Classics #29
Scenario 2 Old Feodol’s Basement
Level 1​
Turn 51a: Review

Overall score out of 10: 7.1
Play time: 2 hours.

Review:

A nice little scenario, it served me well when we were suddenly a player down, obviously very simple but in play it proved to be most amusing, it makes a refreshing change to have the Priest laying on the floor with a broken ankle, and the Thief teetering on the brink of death. Not that I want to kill them you understand, I’m merely a facilitator, a go-between if you like. Mwah ha ha ha ha, sorry, don’t know what came over me.

Very little extra to say except that I liked the two wounded parties in the finale, and the fact that the players have then to explain to both that the treasure is not theirs, it made for a nice ending, well thought out, simple but effective.

Notes and Quotes:

The attack dog was soon defeated, although a more personable approach may have been equally as effective, it seems my players were once again on the hunt for something to kill.

It was good that The Professor (Mr. R.) had his nose into everything, discovering clues as he went to the real story, well played and well designed.

The attack of the monkeys obviously went less well for the players; it’s so damn funny when they have to rack their brains to get out of a tight spot. That and the fact that they managed to roll the biggest number of fumbles I’ve ever seen in such a short space of time, I think at one point we got to three 1s in a row.

Eventually the players found a way, but not before a majority of them had gotten very close to death or unconsciousness.

Which of course resulted in a temporary hiatus, The Professor had more or less figured everything else out, particularly the fact that something nasty lurked behind the door- for the record it was a Phantom Fungus.

The confrontation with Aronarg and Gilles perhaps came too soon, however it served as a taster for the final confrontation, and increased the tension for the final conflict.

Rescuing the last Will and Testament of Old Feodol proved simple enough after the intervention of The Professor’s big brain.

This just left the players with the final fight, a little easier than expected, particularly when the two fools turned on each other, but who am I to disregard the dice, once again nicely handled. Obviously all it needed then was for Mischa to appear to tie the scenario back into the whole.

It worked well and from a DMs perspective proved easy to run, hopefully many of the other scenarios within the tome will be as well designed, and as short- for drop in purposes. If so it will prove to be an excellent time-saving device, well worth the money. 

Thanks for reading.

Next time back to the Goodman Gang, who when we last saw them were in a spot of bother.

Next Turn: Court in the Act.


----------



## Goonalan

Turn 52: Court in the Act. 

“What do you mean, it was your duty?” 

Cas scans the oak panelled chamber, he knows he’s not on trial, it just feels like he is. The twelve members of the Grimbo City Council sit back in the shadows of the chamber, completely hidden from sight.

“I mean Molton Clay had suffered a terrible disaster, and we were sent there by the Church of Pelor to give aid. It’s the duty of all right-minded individuals to help these poor people, to try and discover what happened there…”
“And?” The voice comes out of the dark again, gruff and unreasonable.
“And what?”
“Did you discover what happened, the events of Molton Clay?”
“No, that is…”
“No?”
“I mean we uncovered some facts, horsemen, nearly fifty of them, they’d been in the village for a couple of days perhaps- looking for something…”
“What horseman, who were they?”
“We don’t know.”
“Don’t know?”
“No. Just that they were looking for something…”
“What?”
“What… what?”
“What were they looking for Casimir La Frond, Paladin of Pelor?”
“They were looking for…”
“Yes.”

Cas thinks about lying, the moment passes.

“A gem, they called it the “Eye of the Night’, it…”
“And did they find the jewel?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“How can you be certain?”

Again he hesitates.

“Because I have it.”

Which brings a momentary halt to the questions.

“Show us.”

Cas reaches into a pocket, brings forth the gem, it winks and glitters even in the shadowy light, warm in his hands.

“Good. Very good. Now look after it.”

The sound of scrapping chairs, a door opens, people, hidden in the shadows still, file out of the chamber.

“What’s… I say, could you… I mean… What are you going to do? Who were these men? Why did they want this so bad?”

The Paladin lunges forward holding the Eye of the Night aloft, it flares as it catches in a shaft of light, glows for a moment and then fades to a dull red colour, the Paladin stares at the gem- entranced. The guards grip hold of him, wrench him round, he’s still shackled, and drag Cas out of the chamber.

To a light filled room, the rest of the Goodman Gang are there, sans shackles. Khan appears, as if by magic, and with a bunch of keys in his hands, he removes the Paladin’s bonds, “no hard feelings?” He stares hard at Cas, “just doing my duty.”
“None, Captain.” Cas spits back.
“Actually it’s Major, just thought I’d come and see you off, the personal touch, you’re free of course, the Council regrets this incident, the Sergeant who reported your actions in Molton Clay has been disciplined and discharged from the service, didn’t even make ‘soldier’, I’m sure he’ll thank you if he runs into you again. Have a nice day.”

Major Khan turns and quickly walks away as a blinding light engulfs the sextet.

“What’s that light?” Cas turns back blinking hard.
“That’s the sun, do you want to take a look?” Ala grabs Cas’ arm and pulls him after her, out through the gaol doors and into the golden light of Grimbo.

The others file out after them, Newt leans into Bec, “what did you whisper to him… him in the cells?”
The Barbarian grins, “Buffet.”
“Nice one, bug guy.”

And there they stand, eyes blinking furiously after the dark of the cells, surrounded by the grime and filth of Grimbo.

Cas stretches, it feels good to be free, reaches out to Ala, whose smile is causing all sorts of sensations, he’s almost blushing.

THUMP

Someone runs into Cas, he catches hold of the someone, blinks back the light- it’s Arabella Ross in his arms, all heaving bosom and blood-red lips.

“Out of the frying pan…” Ala begins.

“Oh Cassy Wassy.” Arabella buries her head in the Paladins manly chest, “it’s so terrible”, her hand snakes round to squeeze his, ahem, manly buttock.

The Paladin blushes furiously.
“What is?”

And then Arabella feints away, the Paladin grabs her, then quickly realises how tired he is, he’s losing her… Bec steps in and grabs Arabella, lifts her up and then thumps her down over his shoulder, “Wheatsheaf. Buffet”, and strides off, the rag-tag bunch follow after, Ala and Cas hand in hand.

Several hours later the adventurers have washed away the dirt and grime and are now ensconced in Cas (and Ala’s) room, it’s snug, and Arabella has the only chair, she’s coming to the end of her tail.

“And so you really must do something to help, you must put a stop to the fiend they call “The Ripper.” Arabella mops her brow, “It’s hot in here- I’ll just undo a few buttons.”

She does.

It has the desired effect.

It gets much hotter.

Jim crosses his legs.

“How can we help?”
“Well these… ahem ladies, their mortal remains that is, have all been found in The Nunny, a terrible place you’ve no doubt heard of- it’s simply wretched there, so they tell me- thieves and their kind. Begging your pardon… its Tadpole isn’t it?” Arabella nods and smiles at Newt, he finds it in himself to politely smile and nod back- he’s feeling charitable and he’s also staring at a bosom he could ski down.

“I didn’t mean to offend your Dwarf.” Arabella bats her eyelids at Cas as she delivers her Coups De Grace.

“No offence taken, I’m sure.” Cas smiles back thinly. “What I want to know Arabella is what connection you have with these… ahem ladies?”

“Oh. I’m part of the W.I., the Women’s Institute, for the older lot it’s all Jam and Crochet, but for me it’s a chance to help these poor fallen souls that have been reduced to using their bodies to er… make ends meet, as they say. Oooo.”

Arabella slumps forward then catches herself, her hand grabs out and locks onto Cas’ thigh, squeezes, she looks up at him, “Just felt a little… flush.” Her hand inches up the Paladin’s thigh, “do say you’ll help.”

“But how can we…”
“Leave it to me.” Jim folds his arms, he has a plan.
“Wha?”
“Lady Arabella, I wonder if we could borrow one of your plainer dresses.”

Jim winks at Arabella, then pointedly looks at Cas.

“I don’t think Ala or Anya would particularly relish being used as bait for this fiend, and having to pretend to be a lady of… ahem loose morals.” Cas suddenly notices that everyone in the room is looking at him.

“I… I… that is…”
“I bet you’ve got lovely legs.” Lady Arabella rubs the Paladin’s calf.
“I… I couldn’t my station, what would people say… I… I… That is… Not too plain Arabella, something that matches my eyes; and not red- it makes me look fat.”

Sometime later the Eye of the Night is safely under lock and key with Father Whiskin in St. Jimbo’s, and Cas is dressed as a tart.

Next Turn: Catch Up.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 53: Catch Up

“Jim” Bowen​
Human Male Ranger Level 2 
NG HP 23 AC 19 Init +2
Str 14 Dex 15 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 12 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +6 Ref +4 Will +2
+1 Battleaxe (family heirloom) +5 d8+3 
Longbow (Masterwork Mighty (+2)) +5 d8+2 or Rapid Fire +3/+3  
Dagger, Silver +4 or +4 d4+2
Armour: Griffin insignia Masterwork Breastplate and Large Masterwork Wooden Shield.

Feats: Skill Focus (Trapmaking), Point Blank Shot, Track, Favoured Enemy- Dire Animals, Ranger Two-Weapon Fighting & Ambidexterity, Rapid Shot. 

Skills of note: Animal Empathy +4 Climb +4 Craft (Trapmaking) +6 Handle Animal +4 Hide +6 Jump +5 Knowldege (Nature) +3 Listen +4 Move Silently +6 Spot +3 Wilderness Lore +6

Items of note: Potion Cure Lt x4; Potion Darkvision; Cloak of Resistance +1, 20 Silver Arrows, Vial of Antitoxin, Potion Spider Climb, 10 Sunrods.

Light Warhorse “Sarge” & associated kit and caboodle.

Bec​
Human Male Barbarian Level 2
CG HP 31 AC 17 Init +1
Str 18 Dex 12 Con 18 Int 11 Wis 8 Ch 9 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +1 Will -1
Mighty (+4) Masterwork Composite Longbow +4 d8+4
Dagger +6 or +3 d4+4
Greatclub +6 d10+6
Longsword Masterwork +7 d8+4 (usually with Buckler +1)
Greatsword Masterwork Cold Iron +7 2d6+6
Armour: Studded Leather Masterwork, Buckler +1.

Feats: Toughness, Power Attack, Rage, Cleave & Uncanny Dodge.

Skills of note: Climb +9 Concentration +4 Jump +8 Ride +3 Spot +3 Swim +8 Use Rope +4

Items of note: Climbers Kit, Potion Cure Lt x1, Potion Blur, Bracers of Armour +1.

Heavy Warhorse “Kaul” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Lord Casimir​
Human Male Paladin of Pelor Level 2 
LG HP 23 AC 19 Init +1
Str 15 Dex 13 Con 14 Int 14 Wis 11 Ch 14 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +3 Will +4
+1 Longsword Cold Iron +5 d8+3 
Longbow +3 d8 
Light Mace +4 d6+2
Armour: Shiny Breastplate +1 & Sparkling Large Masterwork Steel Shield

Feats: Negotiator, Dodge, Mobility, Detect Evil, Lay on Hands, Divine Health, Smite Evil, Aura of Courage.

Skills of note: Concentration +3 Diplomacy +9 Handle Animal +6 Knowledge (History) +5 Knowledge (Local) +7 Knowledge (Religion) +6 Ride +5 Sense Motive +6 Spot +4 

Items of note: 3 Flasks of Holy Water, 5 Silver Arrows, Potion of Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion of Vision, Healing Kit.

Light Warhorse “Reggie” & associated kit and caboodle.

Anya’Drea​
Human Female Wizard Level 2 
CG HP 14 AC 15 Init +5
Str 10 Dex 13 Con 12 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 17 
Saves Fort +1 Ref +1 Will +3
Quarterstaff +1 +2 d6+1 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +3 d8
Dagger Silver +1 or +2 d4
Armour: Leather Armour, Ring of Protection +1, Bracers of Armour +1

Feats: Skill Focus (Use Magic Device), Armour Proficiency (Light), Improved Initiative, Scribe Scroll, Toughness. 

Skills of note: Alchemy +5 Appraise +3 Bluff +3 Concentrate +6 Craft (Model) +3 Decipher Script +7 Diplomacy +3 Disguise +3 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +5 Intimidate +3 Knowledge (Arcane) +8 Knowledge (Architecture & Engineering) +4 Knowledge (Geography) +4 Knowledge (Nature) +4 Listen +4 Move Silently +3 Perform (Vogue) +3 Scry +5 Search +3 Spellcraft +8 Use Magic Device +10

Familiar, actually Follower (of sorts) Swish, Animated Broom.

Spells: 	Lvl 0 (4) All; 
Lvl 1 (4) Shield, Mage Armour, Mount, Dummon Monster I, Unseen Servant, Detect Secret Doors, Detect Undead, Identify, Magic Missile, Colour Spray, Cause Fear, Expeditious Retreat, Shocking Grasp, Spider Climb, Charm Person, Sleep.

Items of note: Scrolls- not so many of them as before, Wand of Burning Hands (Level 3- 13 Charges); Potion Cure Lt. x4, Potion of Intelligence, Pearl of Power (lvl 1), Necklace of Fireballs Type I, 2 Bags of Caltrops; 6 Tindertwigs, 10 Sunrods.

“Swish” Animated Broom companion AC15 Mv30 Init+2 +1 Slam d4 Hardness 5 Fort +0 Ref +2 Will -5

Light Warhorse “Mr. Fizz” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Newt​
Gnome Male Rogue Level 2
NG HP 15 AC 19 Init +3
Str 11 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +2 Ref +6 Will +2
Heavy Mace Masterwork +3 d6 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +6 d6
+1 Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) of Spell Storing (Shocking Grasp D8+2) +3 D4+1
Adamantine Ceremonial Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) +2 D4
Dagger Masterwork Silver +3 or +6 d3
Armour: +1 Chain Shirt

Feats: Nimble Fingers, Low Light Vision, +1 To Hit vs. Goblinoids and Kobolds, +4 Dodge vs. Giants, Point Blank Shot, Evasion.

Skills of note: Alchemy +10 Appraise +5 Balance +7 Climb +4 Craft (Locksmith) +5 Decipher Script +5 Disable Device +10 Escape Artist +4 Forgery +3 Hide +10 Intimidate +3 Jump +5 (+35 with Ring of Jumping) Listen +7 Move Silently +8 Open Lock +10 Pick Pocket +4 Read Lips +5 Ride (Pony) +3 Scry +3 Search +8 Spot +5 Tumble +4 Use Rope +3

Spells: Ghost Sound, Dancing Lights, Prestidigitation & Speak with Burrowing Animals.

Items of note: Silk Climbing Rope, 10 Tindertwigs, 3 Thunderstones, 2 Tanglefoot bags, 10 Sunrods, 2 Smoke Sticks, 5 Alchemist’s Fire, Thieves Tools Masterwork, 10 Silver tipped Bolts, 20 Masterwork Bolts, 3 Flasks of Acid, Potion Cure Lt x4, Potion Spider Climb x1, Ring of Jumping, Ring of Minor Sonic Resistance.

War Pony “Dobbin” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Ala​
Elf Female Cleric Level 2 
NG HP 17 AC 21 Init +3
Str 14 Dex 17 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 17 Ch 13 
Saves Fort +4 Ref +3 Will +6
Longsword Masterwork +5 d8+2
Composite Longbow Masterwork Mighty (+2) +5 d8+2
Dagger Silver +3 or +4 d4+2
+1 Dagger +4 or +5 d4+3
Masterwork Heavy Mace +4 d8+2 
Armour: Chain Shirt Masterwork, Large Masterwork Steel Shield & Ring of Protection +2

Feats: Point Blank Shot, Weapon Focus (Longsword), Turn Undead (4/day).

Skills of note: Balance +3 Concentration +3 Diplomacy +3 Escape Artist +3 Heal +7 Hide +3 Listen +5 Move Silently +3 Ride (Horse) +3 Sense Motive +3 Spot +5 Use Rope +3 Wilderness Lore +3

Spells: Lvl 0 (4) Lvl 1 (4)
Domains: War & Good.

Items of note: 2 Healer’s Kits, Scroll Protection from Elements, Potion Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion Cure Moderate Wounds, Scroll Hold Person & Deeper Darkness and a few others, Vial of Silversheen.

Light Riding Horse “Slim” & associated kit and caboodle.

Next Turn: Turning Tricks.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 54: Turning Tricks

It’s much later, nearly midnight, the witching hour, the Gang have split up and headed off into The Nunny, they each have their allotted roles to play in tonight’s investigation.

Newt is on his own, freelance, he knows the lanes and backstreets well, it’s a cold fretful night in the heart of The Nunny. Crumbling tenements and narrow streets, rat haunted alleys and seedy taverns, the place reeks of death, decay and hopelessness.

And so here comes Newt through the warren-like maze, surrounded by filthy shops and homes, many of them derelict, boarded over, home to drunks and worse.

He spies a light ahead, “Blackburn’s Bakery”, he approaches cautiously, spots the proprietor inside stacking shelves with fresh loaves of bread, and small pastries, time to quiz the populace, demonstrate his street smarts.

Ding-a-ling.

The bell on the door chimes as Newt steps into the warmth and light.

“We’re not open, half-an-hour.” Blackburn’s a big man; he looks more like a dock labourer than a baker.
“I’m not here to satisfy my appetite.” Newt hooks his thumbs into his belt, affects a tough guy pose.
“Well… What do you want?” Blackburn seems, if anything, a little put out, the baker reaches for a length of wood with a nail in behind the counter, rests his hand on the clubs handle.
“Do you know who I am?” Newt continues his charade.
“Nope.”
“I’m the one they call- ‘Newt’”, he waits for the man to register this new fact, Blackburn’s expression doesn’t waver.
“Never heard of you, look what do you want I’m busy?”
“I require information, and you’d best comply or it will go badly for you. Now…”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, I mean, well… yes, that is.”

Blackburn grabs the club and stomps around to the counter side of the shop, stands a good ten feet away from Newt, allowing the Gnome to get a good look at the length of wood and particularly the nail in the end of it.

Gulp

“How much did you say the cream slices are?”
“We’re not open yet.”
“I’ll come back in a bit then.”

Ding-a-ling.

Newt retreats, at speed, into the night. The investigation is going well.

Meanwhile, in the Bradley Arms, a seedy dive in the centre of The Nunny, two strangers nurse their half-pints and stare at their fellow customers, who stare back.

“You ask?” Jim whispers to Bec, the Barbarian shakes his head and clutches tighter to his tankard.
“Well I’m not asking, have you seen the size of him?”
Jim turns to stare, Bec follows his gaze, there are a group of men at the bar, rough and ready, the largest of which is a head taller than Bec, which is pretty tall, and big with it.
“I’m not even sure what to ask?” Jim whispers again, “or how?”

Bec nods, the smallest member of the group at the bar is wandering over towards their table.

“Who the feck are you?” The man slurs.

Jim notices first the myriad scars and cuts that dot his dirty armour, and clothes, and oooh that must have hurt, his face.

“We’re adventurers, the Goodman Gang, you may have heard of us- we’re trying to…”
“Never heard of you… What you looking at?” The later delivered in Bec’s direction.
Bec stands, rather unfolds, and fills the space before the interloper.
“Get out you dumb ox, you don’t scare me, and you pretty boy.”
“Now that’s about enough of that.” Jim stands, the ruffian jabs a finger in the Ranger’s chest. 
“I said get gone, we don’t want your sort here, if you don’t clear off there might be a little accident.” He grins, and looks back to his friends, who grin back and begin to shuffle towards the scene of the aforementioned accident- nonchalant, and yet full of menace.

“Who’s going to make us leave?” Jim folds his arms.
“Me.” Scarface shoves Jim back, the Ranger clatters into his chair, shoots a hand out against a wall to prevent himself from falling.

Bec’s lightning fast.

THUNK

Scarface goes down, blood gushing from his broken nose, recently in close contact with the Barbarian’s head.

“Get ‘em.”

The seven others, already on their way, dive in.

SMACK

The first is met by a right hook, Bec again, the man drops like a sack-of-spuds and lies still on the floor of the bar.

Two attempt to grapple the Barbarian, line him up for the big guy to start swinging. Bec’s an electric eel; he slithers and wrenches himself free from their grasp.

A second pair grab Jim by the arms, hold him tight, while a third steps forward aims his haymaker and swings, at the last moment Jim ducks down and in, dragging his capturers off-balance.

SMACK

The guy connects with his own man, the ruffian holding Jim’s left arm fades and folds to the floor.

“Pete, are you… OOOOWF.”

Jim interrupts the ruffian’s conversation, by kicking him as hard as he can in his groin, the guy folds then lurches forward onto all fours, dry heaves- seeing stars.

“I said leave us alone.” Jim shouts and wrenches his arm free from the last of the trio menacing him, also the only one left standing. The ruffian spies the exit, looks round to see Bec still struggling with his compatriots, he swings wildly at Jim, connects but only a glancing blow and then turns and runs for the door. But not quick enough the Ranger tags him, spins him round and drags him down, Jim’s knee crunches into the guy’s face, he flops to the floor a mess of blood and broken teeth.

Bec meanwhile has thrown the last of the pair struggling to hold him off, he grins- ready to exact some revenge.

CRUNCH

The giant assailant smashes a chair into Bec’s head, the Barbarian, slowly collapses.

Leaving three ruffians and Jim.

“I just wanted to…” Jim begins, and is grabbed, easily.

The giant guy rushes over.

BAM

And smashes Jim in the face, his head rocks back, as if on a spring, there’s two of everything, everyone, he blinks furiously, trying to correct his vision.

“Now I told you…”

BAM

“To leave…”

CRACK

“But you wouldn’t…”

SMACK

“Listen, would you.”

BIFF

“So now you’re going to…”

SLAP

“Pay.”

ZZZZZZZIPCRUNCH

The big man suddenly hits the deck face first, courtesy of Bec who grabs and then pulls his legs from under him. The Barbarian stares at the two ruffians remaining, still holding Jim, then crawls over to the body of the giant on the floor, who’s coming round, not for long. 

SMASH

Bec crashes the huge guys face into the bar floor again- he’s out cold, and then begins to drag himself to his feet.

The remaining pair of ruffians scarper back the way they came, clearly there’s an exit in the rear of the Bradley Arms. They’re soon gone.

Jim, now unsupported, flops into his chair, and goes for his glass, it’s not where he thinks it is- he spills the lot on the floor.

“Well that showed them.” He manages and then crashes face first into the table in front of him.

The half-a-dozen other patrons of the bar get back to what they were doing, the show’s over, Bec staggers to his feet, hefts Jim over his shoulder and trudges out of the hostelry and into the cold night.

The investigation is now well under way.

A little way away, in a busier section of The Nunny.

“Good time darl’?” The rather large female Half-Orc standing next to Cas stares hard at the Paladin, can she through my guise Cas wonders. He’s wearing a lilac frock with silk petticoats, a proper whalebone corset, with a pair of grapefruit- fresh from the docks, stuffed in it, and a beautiful flame-red wig, oh and far too much make-up. The wig is particularly effective; it matches a paste-ruby brooch he’s, sorry, she’s wearing.

A passing punter glances at the odd pair, the Half-Orc and the Paladin, stops for a second to stare, and then shakes his head and moves off, at speed.

“Trade’s slow”, the Paladin offers, to more stares.
“Not had a bite.” Cas finishes.

Still the stares.

“Look have I done something wrong?” Cas turns to the Half-Orc and asks, his voice trying to find the right octave.
“Yew tork funny.” The Half-Orc manages.
“I’ve gotta saw froat.” The Paladin massages the spot and turns away from the street-walker’s gaze.

“Yew wanna luk afta vat.”
Cas nods.

Punters pass on by.

Across from the pair Anya and Ala watch from a shadowy alley, ready for any sign of trouble, the two are wearing men’s clothes and have acquired and applied stick-on moustaches, Anya’s of enormous size and bushiness.

DMs Interlude- don’t ask why, I’ve learnt not to.

The moustaches are very itchy, Anya scrats at the thing, pulls it off and furiously rubs the spot, then swiftly reapplies it in the half light, it’s off-centre and at a preposterous angle.

“It’s bloody cold.” Ala shivers.
“These bloody trousers are drafty- the wind goes right up…”

“I say are either of you young chaps free, when I say free I mean… ahem available.”

The interloper is very well dressed, a gentleman- to look at.

Anya looks at Ala. Ala looks at Anya, still processing the gentleman’s words, trying to make sense… Ala gets it.

SLAP

“Ger off wid ya.” Ala shrieks, the punter skedaddles tout suite.

The pair puff out their chests, and then remember not to, and then stare across the street to the empty spot where the Paladin and the Half-Orc were so recently standing.

“Wha…”

They head over in a rush but the odd couple are nowhere to be seen. 

Meanwhile, not very far away, in a darkened alley.

“It’s jus dis way a littul.” Crazy Klina the Half-Orc hooker leads Cas on.
“That’s awfully good of you, don’t want to put you out.” Cas smiles back, reverting to type.

FWOM

Cas turns, something just swished by his head, he spies the Half-Orc recovering from her attack, the creature seems to have a small weighted black sack in his hands, a what-do-you-call-it, sap, that’s it.

The Half-Orc swings again, Cas steps aside, a pitiful attempt really, the sap spins out of her hand and thumps into the wall of the alley, explodes scattering wet sand mixed with pebbles.

The pair stop what they’re doing and stare for a while at the now defunct weapon.

“Are you mugging me?” Cas enquires.
“Yeth.” The Half-Orc replies.
“Oh.”

SMACK

Cas punches the Half-Orc in the face, she staggers backwards holding her jaw.

“Stop it, it’s silly.” The Paladin manages before the creature, still in a crouch, barrels towards him, aiming to bring him down. Cas swiftly steps aside, grabs the Half-Orc’s arm, arresting the creature’s progress instantly, and quickly brings it up behind her back, into an arm-lock.

“I said stop it. Do you understand?”

The Half-Orc nods, and then the tears start.

“I’m ownlee doin dis cos ov my kids, hate ter fink of dem goin wid owt. No foowd in de ouse, nuffink, pleez elp me.” Crazy Klina slumps back onto the Paladin and bawls and snots.

Cas lets go of the poor creature’s arm and is instantly engulfed by the sobbing harlot.

“I… That is… I… Here take this…” He hands over a purse of money; the Half-Orc snatches it and then looks up into the Paladin’s eyes.

“I’m not who you think I are, I mean, am. I’m a man… I mean a Paladin… A man Paladin, I mean. Look my name’s Casimir La Frond, you can contact me at the Church of Pelor, St. Jimbo’s… I have to…”

“CAS!”

It’s Ala’s voice and she’s desperate by the sound of things.

“I have to go… St. Jimbo’s, remember… If I can help.”

And then he’s gone, leaving the Half-Orc standing sobbing, wiping her eyes, and counting the money in the purse.

Several hours later, back at the Inn, and back in Cas’ (and Ala’s) room the group reconvene to share their findings. It doesn’t take long.

“Nothing.” The Paladin stares. “Nothing.” States the obvious again.
“Right then tomorrow we’ll see Father Whiskin, see if he knows anything, we go out again tomorrow night, we need to help these people, they may have sacrificed their dignity but they shouldn’t have to sacrifice their lives, I think I understand their plight. Yes, tonight has been a revelation, these poor creatures having to sell their bodies to feed their families, in constant danger...”

Cas stops talking, looks all misty eyed for a moment.

“I looked good in a dress didn’t I?”

He continues with misty eyed for a while then suddenly looks very serious.

“I didn’t say that out loud, did I?”

Next Turn: Things that go Bump in the night.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 55: Things that go Bump in the night.

“What’s that banging?”

Silence for a moment, a perplexed silence.

“It’s me.” Cas’ voice in the dark.
“Shhh… There’s someone at the door.” Ala states.

And so there is, Ala pulls the covers over her and pointedly stares at Cas.

“I’m going then.” Ala nods at the Paladin, she’s not getting up.

Cas stumbles out of the warm bed and into the cold room, grabs a shirt and puts it on, he stalks to the door, opens it an inch.

Crazy Klina pushes it the rest of the way open, she’s not alone, the Innkeeper’s standing there in his nightshirt holding a lantern, Klina’s sobbing still, or is that again?

“Sorry. She’s with me. Church of Pelor business.” The Paladin smiles weakly as the Innkeeper tramps off down the hallway grumbling to himself.

“It’s terrible, so terrible… Who’s she?” Crazy Klina heads for the bed and then notices it’s occupied.
“I’m Ala, who are you?” Ala proffers a hand then suddenly doesn’t seem so sure, “Cas- who’s this?” With as much disdain as she can muster in her voice.
“Ala this is… Sorry, what’s your name?”
“Klina, Crazy Klina.” Klina offers and ticks and sobs.
“Ala this is… ahem Crazy Klina, she’s the… ahem good lady I bumped into this evening, I told you about her earlier.”
“Terrible, oh Cas, it’s so terrible.” Crazy Klina sobs on.
“What is?” Cas stoops and places his arm around the Half-Orc.
She burrows into him, “I found… There was someone there… A body.”
The Half-Orc collapses some more, sobs uncontrollably, Cas comforts her and at the same time turns and mouths at Ala, “Wake the others.”

Thirty minutes later the septet, lead by Klina, are back in The Nunny and staring down at a scene of devastation.

The killer obviously took their time, at the end of the narrow alley is a small courtyard, and in the middle of the courtyard is the body- sprawled on the cobblestones amid weeds and trash. Or what is left of it. Organs have been lined up on the floor, in neat rows. Bits of flesh hang from a clothes line which bisects the area. Two eye balls watch with interest from a window ledge, between them a thick red tongue. The entire courtyard is drenched in blood.

BLEEEUUGH

Jim loses his lunch and staggers out of the alley.

Ala, weeping, quietly heads over to the corpse.

“I’ll get Jim, and the watch.” Anya heads off.

Cas nods. Bec still hasn’t moved. Newt approaches the body cautiously; Klina grips tight to Cas, still sobbing.

“Cas you’ll want to look at this…” Ala turns to look at the Paladin.
“What?”
“Come and see.”

Klina is passed over to Bec, the Paladin approaches the body. Ala shows him what he needs to see- it’s a rather small penis, the corpse is a male, obviously, although the offending organ has been detached. Cas swallows bile, turns swiftly and marches quickly away.

Newt hovers over the corpse, wipes his hands, and then heads into the blood and gore, looking for pockets to search- there’s plenty to find, obviously this wasn’t a robbery.

He heads back to the Paladin, Ala follows the Gnome back, they examine what Newt has found and wait for Anya and Jim to return with the Watch.

Which may take a while, the pair return fifteen minutes later, without the Watch.

“They’re not coming.” Anya offers.
“What?”
“They say that their not going to The Nunny at night, they’ll collect what’s left of the body in the morning.”
“What?” Cas is a little short of apoplexy, only a little mind.
“They said that none of the Watch travel The Nunny in the night.”
“Well that’s not true for a start.” Newt pipes up, and then hands over a bloody Watch badge and official issue billy club.
“So who’s he?” Cas looks back at the corpse.
“Corporal Klean.” Klina is bent over the body; she’s cleaned the blood away from the face.
“Who’s Corporal Klean, and why’s he here then?”
“We kall im Corporal Punishment, he cums dawn ere tew… tew ave is way, he’s a bastud, a durty viowlent bastud.”

PAH

Crazy Klina spits on the corpse, “Gud riddance, tha’s wha I sez.”

“I thought this guy just killed women?” Jim adds.
“How very odd, it seems all is not as it first appears.” Anya states.
“Strange that.” Bec chips in then regrets it, the rest of the Gang turn to stare, to see if he has anything else to say, Bec shrugs, and keeps schtum.

“I’ll stay here and wait for the Watch, they can’t be long now, the suns almost up- the rest of you get some sleep, we’ll meet at St. Jimbo’s do some digging. We’re coming back out here tonight so make sure you’re fresh.” Cas states.

The gang and Klina head off, Ala with a last kiss for her man.

“And Jim, make sure Klina gets home safely. Klina why don’t you meet us at St. Jimbo’s, Father Whiskin may have some jobs that need doing- I don’t want to see you out here again, understand.”

Klina nods, whispers “he’s so brave” to Jim, and heads off with the Ranger.

Afternoon sees the group gathered again in St. Jimbo’s, Klina has been hired as a cleaner for the Church, Cas has set aside some money to pay her wages, actually enough to keep her employed for the next six months. Farmer Giles potters about the place too, he’s much recovered, although maudlin- what with his family being slaughtered, he helps out where he can.

“I know bits of the story”, Father Whiskin begins, “it all started a very long time ago, in The Nunny, five murders I think- all of them ladies of the night, their bodies dismembered, eviscerated, the organs, eyes and tongues removed.”
“Who was it?” Jim enquires.
“Nobody knows, the murders just stopped, no one was ever caught.”
“Do you think it could be happening again, the same person?” Anya asks.
“I doubt it, the first murders happened over 100 years ago, what I do know is the last victim lived very near the place you found that body last night, near some run down Inn, I don’t know the name of the place. But I know a Gnome who will, Soloman, our oldest worshipper, he’s lived in Grimbo for nearly 200 years, I’ll go and see him this evening. We should meet up tomorrow; I should have the answer by then.”

Suddenly there’s a crashing noise from the Chapel, the gang and father Whiskin rush to find out what’s going on.

Crazy Klina backs towards the altar, she’s waving about the remains of a six foot long pew- which must weigh a couple of hundred pounds. On the floor of the Chapel is a soldier of the Grimbo Watch, bleeding from a head wound. There are three other soldiers, and behind them a familiar figure, it’s Major Khan.

“How dare you violate this holy place…” Father Whiskin begins.
“We caught this harlot with a silver candlestick in her hands.” The Major volunteers.
“This is Klina, the cleaner.” Cas strides over to the Half-Orc and takes the pew from her hands, nearly fumbles it, it’s bloody heavy.
“Ah. That explains it.” Khan offers, then as quick as lightning, “Sorry good lady, a thousand apologies, I will see it to it that this foolish soldier is punished for his transgressions. Father Whiskin my apologies to you also, please understand we thought this woman was about to make off with Church property. And now Lord Casimir La Frond, could I perhaps have a word, in private.”

Khan wanders off heading towards the nave, and a quiet corner.

“Watch him.” Ala offers, Cas winks and heads off after Khan.

Khan is waiting for the Paladin, he starts up straight away.

“I want this fiend as much as you, The Nunny is a very dangerous place, particularly if you’re wearing a uniform. The Watch would therefore like to grant you temporary membership until this task is complete, plain clothes of course, you will have access to information, men and other resources, we will also pay your expenses for the duration of this investigation, there is also a 500 Gold Piece bounty on the killer’s head. In short Casimir la Frond we are at your service.”   

Major Khan bows low, and comes up smiling, leaving the Paladin momentarily speechless.

Twenty minutes later the gang are back in Father Whiskin’s office.

“So what did you say?” Newt asks.
“I told him to shove it where the sun don’t shine.”
“Pelor forgive us.” Father Whiskin crosses himself.
“You said no to money?” Newt’s ears are playing up.
“Cas…” Ala begins.
“Then I said yes, well sort of, well to everything except the Watch bit- so we’ve got access, and resources, and the money Newt, but we’re not members of the bloody Watch.”
“What did he say?” Jim enquires.
“He said yes, very quickly… too quickly, I can’t help feeling I’ve given them what they want somehow. He asked to be kept informed of the investigation; I said I would prepare a short report for him each day. Then he grabbed my hand, grinned and shook it hard, to seal the deal he said, he seemed awfully pleased.”

The assembled crowd nod.

“We’ll meet back in the Inn at ten, till then rest and relaxation- if you need it, otherwise do some more digging, Anya, I hope you don’t mind but I’ve fixed it for you to go and see the Watch Sergeant in Nuns Corner, find out who the victim was?”
Anya nods and smiles.
“I’ll go with her.” Jim puts his hand up, and then remembers he’s not eight any more, “if that’s ok with you Anya?”
Anya, once again, nods and smiles.

Some time later, in the same chamber Cas so recently found himself answering to Grimbo City Council, Major Khan stands, to all intents and purposes, in the witness box. 

“He accepted, with one clause.”
“Yes?” The voice is gruff, used to being obeyed.
“They don’t want to be members of the City Watch.”
“All the privileges and none of the responsibilities, he saw you coming Major Khan; I expect you laid down the law?”
“No… That is… Yes, well… I accepted his offer. I figured…”
“WHAT?”
“Sir, I was only doing what I was told, at any price, that’s what I was told.”
“YOU GAVE HIM EVERYTHING?”
“Yes… Sir, it’s what I was told…”
“Good.”
“What sir?”
“I said good Major Khan, you have done well.”

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor, being pushed back, then nothing… Silence, it draws out.

“Sir… Sir, can I go?”

But Major Khan is alone.

Funny he doesn’t remember the sound of a door opening, or closing.

Next Turn: The X-Files


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Great stuff again, Goonalan.

The "investigation" reminds me of so many similar sessions I've been in both as player and DM - hapless flailing around, upsetting the locals, and relentlessly following the wrong clue while ignoring the real ones.    (Well, actually your lot weren't quite that bad.)

And a nice sinister twist in the last post - enemies in high places (and friends in low ones) - just what every adventuring party needs.

Keep it coming.


----------



## Goonalan

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> Great stuff again, Goonalan.
> 
> The "investigation" reminds me of so many similar sessions I've been in both as player and DM - hapless flailing around, upsetting the locals, and relentlessly following the wrong clue while ignoring the real ones.    (Well, actually your lot weren't quite that bad.)
> 
> And a nice sinister twist in the last post - enemies in high places (and friends in low ones) - just what every adventuring party needs.
> 
> Keep it coming.




Yep that's the way of it-

"Do you know where the entrance to the dungeon is?"
"Nope."
"Ok. Next."

That and a little grandstanding by the characters about sums up the investigation so far, they're not used to this roleplaying malarkey.

Thanks for the comments, much appreciated.

Anyway from bad to...

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 56: The X-Files

Anya and Jim are in the interview room at the Nuns Corner Watch House, with Sergeant Dickens.

“So, you’re the Goodman Gang, we’ve been hearing things about you.”
“Good things I hope?” Anya smiles at the Sergeant.
“Good and bad, but that’s not what you’re here for is it, so let’s get down to business- what do you want to know?” The Sergeant shuffles his papers, and looks mildly interested.

“Tell us what you know about Corporal Klean, last night’s victim, I believe.” Jim leans in and onto the Sergeant’s desk. He’s met with a stare.

The silence goes on a while.

“Corporal Klean worked here on the Watch for the last fifteen years, before last night, he was a good Watchman.”
“That’s not what we heard?” It’s Anya’s turn to lean in.

She stares back at the Sergeant, who eventually looks away.

“Corporal Klean had a way with the ladies…”
“That’s not what we heard.” Anya bangs her fist hard down on the desk.

The silence extends.

“Corporal Klean used to go down to The Nunny and hassle the hookers, he used to… ahem, how can I put it- he used to get a little heavy, smack them around a little… but hey they’re only hookers, right.”

Sergeant Dickens tries a half-smile on Jim.

It gets him nowhere.

“Anything else Sergeant?”
“No. Nothing I can think of, but if I do remember anything, well… I’ll get right to you.”

The Sergeant gets up.

“We done? Nobodies going to miss Klean. Only I have work to do, real work.”

Ten minutes later Jim and Anya are out of the building, and are still angry.

“What do you want to do?” Anya meets Jim’s look.
“I…” 

Ten minutes later they’re back in the Wheatsheaf Inn and all over each other, like a rash.

Then later that night…

Ala and Anya are dressed to the nines, they look beautiful- stunning. Bec is tonight’s chaperone; he’s also dressed up for the occasion, wanna be pimp wearing the latest fashions, a pair of flared pants with various sigils on them, a purple sombrero style hat, and a pink shirt- open to the navel. 

With a gold medallion.

Bec seems to be taller.

He’s wearing platform shoes.

Over the street are the rest of the gang; Cas, Jim and Newt; mostly hidden from sight. 

“I don’t like this.” Cas worries.
“Neither do I.” Jim concurs.

Newt gives the pair a stare.

“What are you two worried about, they’ve got Bec over there.”

Jim and Cas look across the street, at Bec- he doesn’t look that tough. 

He does look busy, it seems Anya and Ala have attracted quite a crowd.

“How much?”
Bec shrugs- this wasn’t part of plan.
“For both of them?”
Bec looks confused.
“Whatever he’s offering I’ll double it.”
Bec’s out of his depth.
“I…” Bec stammers.
A wannabe customer grabs out to paw Anya.

Bec breaks his arm; it’s as easy as that.

Which causes a bit of a fuss.

Ten seconds later there’s a crowd and they’re not happy, Bec is doing the best he can, hands dart out from the from all directions, Ala’s shirt gets ripped.

“Pelor damn you, how much for the pair- I won’t take long?”

It’s all getting too much for the harassed Barbarian, he loses control, pushing and shoving trying to keep the crowd at bay, who aren’t happy.

It gets out of hand very quickly.

Cas, Jim and Newt are quickly on the scene, trying to push their way through to the beleaguered trio but there are too many people.

“Come on, come on, plenty to go round.”

Jim and Newt stare at the Gnome, that’s not the kind of thing they want to hear.

It takes a good while to push through the mass of irate punters, and when they do…

Bec, Anya and Ala are gone.

“Where…” Jim starts.

Cas scans the area, there’s not a lot to see, apart from the milling punters.

“They can’t have gone far, can they?”

The crowd begins to break up, there are alleys everywhere, in fact they could have gone anywhere.

Anya and Ala drag Bec down the alley, further into the shadows, the darkness; the Barbarian is still frothing at the mouth, gibbering incoherently.

The trio come to a halt, out of breath, now where are they?

The high, windowless brick walls of the buildings flanking the narrow alleyway rise up prison-like on either side, causing the walls to echo every sound. A huge rat stalks through the rubbish that lies scattered about, glaring at Ala with hungry eyes.

“Where are we?”

The three look about.

A strange smell clings to the air, but not the festering stench of rotting refuse. It’s something altogether different. There’s a bundle stretched across the cobblestones, it looks like a pile of rags at first.

Then their eyes adjust to the dim light, they realise the mass before them is actually the twisted shape of a human male, his throat torn open, eyes wide and staring. 

Out of the shadows comes a hunch-backed, emaciated figure covered with oozing sores and festering ulcers, the figure lurks over to the corpse, like a wolf guarding its hard-earned prey, then it notices it has company, its eyes glisten in the dark. With a speed that belies its diseased appearance, the creature springs…

And is all over Ala before the Priestess of Correllon can defend herself, a claw scratches her right wrist, another across her right cheek, a deep cut, the fiend leans in and snarling bites a chunk of fresh from above Ala’s breast, she screams, almost feints away. The Ghast’s poison courses through her, she can feel her whole body clench, she shakes her head, lashes out blindly, the poison has no affect.

The creature exudes an unholy stink, Bec, already startled from his previous predicament, slumps over, and voids his stomach.

Anya reacts in an instant scatters backwards, looking for cover, “Smidgin”, a Magic Missile thumps into the Ghast causing the creature to fumble its grips on Ala who does all she can to wrench the thing from her, prevent it from attacking again.

“Death to you priestesssssssss.”

The creature chatters and spits in her face.

But Bec is back up in an instant, he grabs Anya and guides her over to the creature, it has it’s facing away from the pair, they stab and slice at the creature’s back, as Ala, having spotted the plan, now struggles to keep a hold of the thing.

The fight is bloody, but short, the Ghast is no more.

“What the hell was that?” Anya enquires.
“A Ghast, an undead creature of the night.” Ala replies.
“D’you think it was the Ripper?”
“Too simple, now where the devil are we?”

Bec begins to have a look about; Ala meanwhile sets to healing herself then quickly scurries over to the body.

“Who was he?” Anya wanders over.
“EEeeeerrgghh. Don’t touch it. Rot Grubs.” Ala backs off sharpish.

“Out the way.” Anya steps forward wand in hand, “Flame on.”

And bathes the corpse in fire, killing the vermin instantly.

“BUFFET.” Bec shouts as Jim, Cas and Newt scuttle into view.

“Where in Pelor’s name did you escape too?”

Cas spots the burning body.

“And who the hell is that?”

Ten minutes later, stories told, the gang are ready again for action, when Jim makes an interesting discovery.

“Cas.”
“What Jim?”
“That Ghast, came from down here.” Jim points to a loose sewer grate, it looks to have been recently removed and only slid back into place.
“Pass me a sunrod.” Newt hands one over to the Ranger.

Jim lights the rod and flings it through the drain, there’s a sewer pipe below.

“What do you think?”
“I think we should investigate, it’s the only clue we’ve found so far, even if it is just a pack of undead at least we will have made some progress.”

And so it is decided- Bec, Anya and Ala will head back to Wheatsheaf Inn replace their street clothes with their adventuring gear. Jim will head to the nearest Watch House tell them about the latest death, and the Ghast. Cas and Newt will check out the area, see what they can discover, while keeping an eye out on the sewer grate.

The various factions head off to do as they’ve been instructed.

Cas and Newt have been waiting quite a while when a light comes on across the way, “Blackburn’s Bakery.”

“I’ll just pop over, see if I can find any sustenance.” Cas states, “You coming?”
“I’ll keep an eye out here.” Newt thinks better of it, remembers his last encounter with the Baker.

Ding-a-ling.

“Shop?” Cas grips the counter, Blackburn appears from a door in the back of the shop.
“We’re closed yet, half-an-hour we’ll be open.” Blackburn moves behind the counter.
“Do you know who I am?” Cas asks.
“Nope.” Blackburn shakes his head and grips the handle of his club, the one with the nail in it.
“Good, hush-hush”, Cas nods, “Well I’ll be off, have a good night sir.” Cas salutes the man, and almost as an after thought slides a gold coin onto the counter.

Ding-a-ling.

“Sir?” Blackburn calls over.
“Yes, what can I do for you?” Cas wanders back into the bakery.

Ding-a-ling.

“It’s just that I’ve seen you out there, can I ask you something?”
“Fire away.”
“What are you doing? Out there?”
“Oh.” Cas looks about a bit, there’s no one else around. “We’re looking for the Ripper, all these murders, working for the Church of Pelor.”
“Oh.” Blackburn scratches his chin.
“Well, I’ll have to get back, nice to have met you.” Cas opens the door again.

Ding-a-ling.

“The Ripper sir?”
“Yes.”
“Is he the ‘orrible looking feller, dressed in a jacket as black as pitch but with eyes that glow like red hot embers. The gent that goes in before the rise ‘o’ the sun, and don’t come out again until the moon reaches well into the sky…”

Ding-a-ling.

“Yes, that might be him, anything you can tell me about him?”
“He lives over there.”

Blackburn points into the darkness.

“Near the Inn, the old Ten Bells, over there.”

Blackburn points again.

“In the sewers, I think- good luck to you sir.”

Blackburn heads out to the backroom.

Ding-a-ling.

Twenty minutes the later the Gang are all together; they descend into the sewer, armed with Cas’ new information, in search of the ‘orrible looking feller.

Next Turn: “Did Black Alley Clah send you?”


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 57: “Did Black Alley Clah send you?”

Cas nods at Newt, the Gnome grins and scurries in.

Slick iron rungs driven into the brick wall lead from the street onto a walkway flanking an open sewer channel. The stench is particularly foul here, inciting Newt’s lungs and stomach to rise in open rebellion, he throws up.

“Is it safe?” Cas shouts down.

Newt wipes his mouth, “yep.”

They Gang make their way down, Anya slips on the ladder but is caught in the nick of time by Cas.

“Thanks.” She winks at the Paladin, who grins back awkwardly.
Jim looks a little put out.

“Which way?” Ala breaks the deadlock.
“There’s no blood trail- this way.”

Jim heads off north.

They’ve gone twenty feet.

“Hey, there’s a door.” Newt points to the spot, and then crouches down to get to work, “It’s locked.”

And a minute later its not, the Gnome budges aside, Cas steps in, wrenches the door open.

A trio of filthy ragged ne’er-do-wells sit around a squat table playing cards and seeking comfort in a bottle of rotgut. All three look mean and ill-tempered, hardened by the harshness of life in The Nunny. A single barrel marked “grog” sits against a wall, but otherwise the room is empty.

The largest of the thugs, a menacing individual with a pock-marked face, rises from the chair and casually sweeps back his cloak to reveal a wicked blade hidden beneath. He walks slowly and unsteadily towards Casimir. Though his eyes are bloodshot, Cas can smell the spirits on him, his speech is clear.

“Did Back Alley Clah send you?” He asks with a sneer. “You can tell your boss that if he doesn’t like the way we do our trade, he can hire someone else to break bones for ‘im.”

Cas looks a little confused.

“Actually I’m Casimir La Frond, Paladin of the Church of Pelor, we’re…”

Newt nudges Cas in the ribs, the Paladin thinks about things a moment.

“Oh hang on, can we start again?” Cas tries.

The Thug shakes his head, also a little confused by the sudden turn of events.

“Oh, ok. In that case I’m arresting you in the name of the Church of Pelor.”

Thurlo, the big Thug, is lightning fast, grabs out his blade and stabs Cas in the gut.

“Oh bugger.” Cas pushes his way into the room, his momentum driving Thurlo back.

Ala hits the Bless spell as the two Thugs at the table leap up, back off, and fumble out throwing daggers, both the blades spiral towards the Paladin, clatter into his armour and bounce away.

“Pelor save me.” The Paladin squeaks.

Thurlo swings again, Cas’ shield blocks the blow, he pushes Thurlo further back into chamber.

“Surrender or die?” Cas offers.
“EXPLETIVE DELETED.” Thurlo considers Cas’ offer and politely declines.

Anya casts Mage Armour on herself, as Bec wades into the chamber swinging, burying his longsword into Thurlo’s shoulder, the Thug screams and staggers back. Jim dives into the chamber and grabs his bow, notches an arrow.

Ala waits in the doorway, grabs her bow out too, and readies a shot. 

Meanwhile Vik and Sharktooth, the other two Thugs, charge into the melee, Sharktooth stabs Anya in the side with his shortsword, the Wizard struggles, fails to cast her spell, winces horribly and tries to back out of the fight, she really shouldn’t be here. 

Newt sees it all.

“ANYAAAAAA.”

The Gnome lifts his little crossbow and, point blank range, fires it into Sharktooth’s head, it gets messy very quickly- think of melon’s exploding, Sharktooth is very, very, very dead. 

Thurlo screams and charges back at Cas, who parries his blow but can’t get an attack in. Jim watches this, still scanning the arena looking for a clear shot.

“Feck this.”

The Ranger throws down his bow, grabs out his Battleaxe and goes over to help Anya. 

Bec meanwhile wades into Thurlo, who’s still keeping Cas at bay, he slices again, rips into the Thug’s side.

Ala follows Jim’s lead, fumbles out her longsword, but stays put in the doorway. Vik swings towards her, she defends herself, keeps the Thug at bay. 

“Smidgin.”

Anya fires a Magic Missile into Thurlo, the Thug roars his defiance.

Newt turns his sights on Vik, fires again, his crossbow bolt smashes into the Thugs leg, crippling him for life. Jim dives across as the Thug folds, smashes his battleaxe into Vik, the Thug flops to the floor- dead.

Thurlo stands alone, the fighting stops for a second.

“Ok, I surrender.”

POP

Too late, Bec takes Thurlo’s head off, it spirals across the room as the Thug’s body folds to the floor.

“BUFFET.” Bec seethes.

“Who are these guys?” Ala enquires.
“Were these guys?” Newt corrects Ala.
“Pelor knows, search them.”

Ten minutes later, none the wiser, and only a little bit richer the Goodman Gang, after a touch of healing courtesy of Ala head on.

There are two possible exits, both rotten wooden doors, one east, one south. Cas leads them on, east, down a stinking wet passage to another door, this one barred.

Cas stands aside, the Gnome dives in, the passage continues south to yet another door.

The Gnome gets to work, no traps, the bar off the door, there’s a rather complicated lock, “nice”, Newt rubs his hands with glee.

It takes two minutes and he’s in, Cas pushes past the Gnome, into a cell, there’s a skeleton on the floor. He stirs the bones with his longsword, nothing happens.

“Next.”

The Gnome skips ahead a little to the next door, checks it.

“Damn.”
“What is it Newt?” Jim asks.
“It’s open.”

Newt pushes the door open; a single flickering candle stirs in the breeze, shadows dance across the walls of the small room. Simple wooden bunks, six in total and covered in tattered and soiled bedding, take up most of the chamber. A feverish moan rises from one of the farther beds, the plaintive cry of someone clearly in pain.

Ala and Cas cross the room quickly, shivering in the bed is a filthy looking Thug clutching his blanket to him.

“Filth Fever.” Ala states.
“Can you heal him?” Cas asks.
“In time.” Ala replies.
“We’ll come back for him, do what you can to make him comfortable.”

Ala sets to work.

There’s another door in the chamber, it leads to a small room, not much larger than a closet, inside are stacked half-a-dozen crates and barrels, it’s a storeroom.

“He’ll sleep now.” Ala calls over
“Right, out of here, back to that other door.” Cas takes charge.

They file out following the Paladin, except for Newt who’s spotted something on the floor of the storeroom, a small tobacco pouch, when the others have gone he picks it up, sniffs it- Bitter Root, a narcotic, he hides his stash and catches up with the others.

The Goodman Gang return to the former home of the Thugs, and settle before the door south, it’s not locked, Cas opens it and enters, it’s a dead end.

“Hang on your Lordship.”

Newt scurries past the Paladin.

TUG

The wall ahead swings forward and into the dark chamber beyond, they bring light.

They’re in a cellar, the air is cool and damp, the smell of wet earth. Barrels are stacked in front of them; Cas gingerly clears a path through. The far wall is occupied by a wine-rack sagging under the weight of age. A set of wooden stairs lead up into a corner of shadowy light.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrggggggggggggggggggghhh.”

A guttural scream, bitten off, a woman’s voice. 

It comes from up the stairs.

Cas and Ala share a look, hers terror, his intrigue- the Paladin truly knows no fear. He shrugs and sprints for the steps, then up them, two, and when he can manage it, three at a time. The others trail behind.

And into the bar room of the Ten Bells Inn, at one time it must have been a comfortable, if decidedly lower-class tavern. The original brick and flint walls, ancient floors, old beams, and aged furnishings and tables are reminiscent of an earlier age, a time when patrons by the dozens would have drunk themselves into rowdy stupors within. 

The room is eerily silent; the only patron left a frighteningly large rat which scurries into the fireplace in response to their intrusion.

“Who screamed?” Cas asks.
“Not me.” Ala states, breathing hard, “yet.” She whispers under her breath.

They stand and stare.

“I hate rats.” Bec whispers. Anya hears him, nods to herself.

“They’ve gone.” Cas turns round to face his companions.

“GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET OUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT.”

The voice a molasses thick whisper- full of pain and suffering.

A woman’s voice.

Cas spins round.

“Who’s there?”

And is struck in the face by a flying chair.

The Paladin collapses onto the floor.

Next Turn: Seeing is Believing.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 58: Seeing is Believing.

Jim spots the Dire Rat as it tip-toes out of the chimney towards the fallen Paladin

“Oh no you don’t.”

An arrow flies, thumps into the creature which totters a moment then expires.

The silence returns, enfolds the room.

“Geeeeeet Ouuuuut.”

The voice fading, almost an inaudible whisper, it seems to come from… nowhere, and everywhere.

“Search the place- carefully.” Cas is quick to his feet, a little blood from his nose, but nothing serious.

The room’s furnishings crumble when touched, the windows are boarded up, and it’s all in shadow. There’s a door to the east, three more evenly spaced on the south wall, and a set of rickety looking wooden stairs heading up.

They start with the door to the east, its stuck fast, Bec applies his shoulder, the portal breaks on his first attempt, the giant man scatters into an alley, and they’re back outside, in the warren that is The Nunny.

“Pull it shut but make sure it’s not stuck again- that’s the emergency exit, should we need it.” Cas states, Bec nods and does as he’s told.

Newt completes his circuit, reports back.

“There’s no noises coming from any of the doors, there’s also a concealed door over on the western wall. What now your Lordship?” The Gnome bows and winks.

“So where is the voice coming from?” Ala asks.
“It could be a Ghost.” Cas offers and then thinks about the statement for a while.

The others join him in thought, stand statue, scan the room again.

“Who’s ghost?” Anya asks.
Cas shrugs, it’s his best guess. “Newt, the concealed door please.”

Thirty seconds later, with the Gnomes help, Cas locates and opens the previously hidden door.

As the door swings open, an overwhelming aura of evil fills the air, so vile in its intensity that Newt and the others, but not Cas, are almost overcome by it, their stomachs threaten revolt. The hairs stand up on the back of their necks, Ala shivers.

“Creepy.” Cas attempts a smile, it comes out all wrong, he enters the tiny chamber beyond.

Malice pervades the tiny, sparsely furnished, room. A simple cot, devoid of blankets or sheets, stands against one wall, its mattress savaged by deep cuts and stained rust-brown with long-dried blood. A small table is pressed against the wall beside the only window; a fireplace stands cold and lifeless. A cheap print, faded with age, hangs over the fireplace, beside it a small cupboard. The walls and floors are stained with a combination of blood and other unidentifiable filth. A sound of scampering feet as numerous rodents scatter for cover, a flash of movement out of the corner of their eyes the rats disappear.

And then the darkness suddenly descends.

“What…” Ala begins.

Only to be replaced by a woman’s face.

Even Cas flinches, so sudden is the vision.

The face suddenly grimaces and turns away, then fades out of existence.

Darkness engulfs the gang again.

“I don’t like this.” Ala simply states.

To silence.

KNOCK KNOCK

Which makes nearly everyone jump.

Cas is quickly to the door, presses himself against it, turns back to his companions and places a finger over his lips, signals for silence.

“Who’s there?”
“Father.”
“Father who?”

Newt giggles.

“It’s Father Whiskin, Casimir, can I come in, it’s bloody freezing out here, and dangerous.”

The Paladin opens the door, the Dwarvern Priest tromps in.

“I thought you’d be here, I talked to Blackburn at the Bakery, nice man- gave me these for you.”

The good Father hands over a bag of bread and cakes; which is eagerly accepted.

“Well, Old Soloman had quite a story to tell, is there somewhere a little less…” The Priest takes a look around the room, “what’s the word, terrifying, that’s it- we can sit.”

The Gang head back into the bar of the Ten Bells Inn, except for Newt, who follows them out in a moment, and with news.

“Cas.” Newt says while stuffing a French Fancy into his mouth.
“Yes.”
“There’s no rat holes in that place.” Newt motions over his shoulder to the room they’ve just vacated, “and no rats.”
“Odd.” The Paladin simply states.
“Ghost rats.” Anya offers.
Bec shivers.

They settle down to hear Father Whiskin’s story.

“It was called the Autumn of Terror, for two months the Ripper terrorised The Nunny, as he went about butchering and mutilating five women, all prostitutes. However, it wasn’t the identity of the victims that horrified the inhabitants of The Nunny, this place has long been used to violence and death, but rather it was the brutal manner in which the killings were conducted.”

Father Whiskin settles back, he seems to have got his audiences attention; this is after all the ideal place to be telling a ghost story.

“These women were not merely murdered they were mutilated in a way so terrible that many felt it was impossible for a man to have perpetrated the crimes.

The reign of terror began on the evening of the 31st of August, 125 years ago, a Watchman happened upon a woman stretched out on the cobblestones. Even in the feeble light of his lantern, the Ripper’s handiwork was plainly visible.”

Ala swallows hard, searches out and finds Cas’ hand, he reacts, smiles back at her, reassuring.

“As horrible as that first murder scene was it was just the first of many that would present themselves to the Watch over the ensuing weeks, each one progressively worse than the last. The Ripper must have found his prey easy targets, like apples ripe for the picking. The women called out to him, too eager to venture into the dark nightmare alleys where they worked their trade. Investigators, meanwhile, found themselves unable to put paid to the murderous spree, not to hold back the rising tide of panic that was building, here within The Nunny.”

Father Whiskin stops, looks around him, the others follow suit, checking every shadow, then continues.

“Worse the Ripper taunted his pursuers, leaving tantalising clues that only served to befuddle the red-faced investigators. He was laughing at them, hidden behind the dark shroud of his anonymity.”

Father Whiskin looks around the room, shadows lengthen.

“But no one could have known that the first four murders in the Ripper’s rampage of terror had been little more than the overture to his grotesque finale…”

Ala drops her iced-bun.

“Mari Kell would be his fifth and final victim, his deadly masterpiece. Certainly there’s is nothing Mari Kell could have done in her all too brief life to warrant such a death.

Witnesses at the time reported seeing Kell escort a male patron into her room, at a hostelry called the… Ten Bells Inn.”

Squeak

Bec turns, he’s the only one to have heard the noise, a chair has moved a little away from a table, as if someone had wanted to sit there.

The other members of the Gang swallow hard and scan the room yet again.

“That was in the early hours, after midnight, and there away from the traffic and bustle of the city of Grimbo, the Ripper could afford to work slowly; he took his time with Mari.

And when at last he had finished his work Mari Kell’s corpse had been mutilated almost beyond recognition. The defilement of her young body was so complete, so savage, that it could have only been the work of a man borne of the depths of Hell.”

Bec looks behind him again, nothing.

“After this slaying, the Ripper disappeared, into the mists of Grimbo forever. However, it is said, Mari Kell, or more properly her tormented spirit, could not so easily slip away. The mists of the afterlife would not, could not, completely enshroud her, and she remained here…”

Father Whiskin looks about him.

“In The Nunny, in the Ten Bells Inn.”

Ala gulps, Cas squeezes her hand.

“I think we’ve met her.” The Paladin offers.
“What?” Father Whiskin stares at Cas.
“Mari, she’s still here, she haunts this place still- I can feel her, all about us, she’s here. Now.”

Bec looks behind him again.

Nothing stirs.

Next Turn: The Investigation continues…


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 59: The Investigation continues…

“Well I’d better get going, leave you to it.” Father Whiskin takes one last look around the bar and then heads out the way he came, “good luck.”

“Well that was a lovely story.” Anya volunteers.
“Cheery.” Jim agrees.
“OK, rest time over, time to get on.” Cas is up and at them.

“Newt, that door please.” Cas points to the door furthest away from where they sit on the southern wall.
“Yes, boss.” And over he goes.

Twenty seconds later, the Paladin opens the door into a filthy room, still and silent, a hearth on the west wall cold and sooty. Several jagged, rusty knives are plunged into a foully stained table. The nauseating stench of rot washes over the Gang.

“Pelor.” Cas blinks hard, his eyes are watering.

Cas, Newt, Anya and Bec head in, look around, see what they can see.

SPRUNG

One of the knives is yanked from the table by an invisible hand, and before Cas can react, is plunged into the Paladin’s shoulder.

“Aaaarrgh.”

“LLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAVVVVVEEEEEEEE MMMMEEEEEE.” 

The whispered woman’s voice comes again.

“We mean you no harm spirit.” Cas addresses the fireplace, the walls, the ceiling- looking anywhere.

Bec reacts quickly and snatches up all the other knives embedded in the table, as he places his hand down to yank the last one free of the table he suddenly pulls back, somebody with small hands has already got a firm grip on the handle of the last knife. He looks around, and then grabs the last blade.

“We are here to rid Grimbo of the Ripper… Here to help you, if we can.” Cas’ voice trails off.

Nothing happens for a while.

“Let’s try next door”, Jim offers still outside of the room, an observer.

Newt examines the next door, declares it safe and lets the Paladin in.

The floor of this small room is covered in dust, the air is stale, and dense cobwebs hang from the rafters like a funeral shroud. A few old crates and barrels lie scattered about the room, one of which is covered by a dark shivering blanket which seems to shy from the adventurers light.

Newt pulls Cas back, shakes his head, and tosses a sunrod into the chamber.

Everyone gasps and takes a step back; the motioning blanket is a mass of spiderlings in their web.

“Thanks Newt, that was…”

A Spider leaps from its hideaway on the ceiling and lands on Cas’ chest, about to plunge it’s fangs into the suddenly flailing Paladin, the Spider’s abdomen is coloured yellow, white and black; a clear warning of the potency of its poison.

Cas reacts in time and bats the thing off him with his shield, continues staggering backwards to get clear.

“Cas.”

Ala charges in, smashes her longsword down, the Spider scuttles aside at the last moment, which results in Ala burying her longsword a good ten inches into the floorboards of the bar, it holds, she tries desperately to pull it free.

THUNK

A second spider leaps from the room and onto the Priestess’ back; it sinks its fangs into the nape of Ala’s neck, a fiery poison courses into her, she grits her teeth, clenches every muscle as she spasms, the worst is soon over, she relaxes, and then feels the Spider on her back move again, reposition itself for another attack.

FWUNG

A crossbow bolt thumps into the Spiders abdomen, the force of the bolt knocking the creature off Ala’s back and sending it bowling into a corner of the bar. Jim’s arrow thumps into the floor there, missing by inches.

“BUFFFFFET.”

Bec charges over as the beast attempts to right itself, he smashes the arachnid to pieces.

Meanwhile Cas and Anya, armed with her staff, attack the first Spider, the creature is too fast, it skitters under tables, then up a wall and back onto the ceiling.

The Goodman Gang scatter, take evasive action, except for Ala who’s still a little shaken, the Spider leaps down, and onto the Priestesses arm, and before she can react sinks its fangs into her, Ala flails wildly trying to get the thing to let go.

Her mad circling prevents the other members of the Gang getting too her, she settles the dispute, quick draws a dagger with her free hand and plunges the blade into the Spider’s body- dead.

“How do you feel?” Cas sympathises.
“Bloody terrified.” She replies.
“I mean are you poisoned, they looked… dangerous.” Cas points to the Spiders colourful markings.
“Particularly close-up” Ala confirms, “I’m alright though… Thanks.” 

Ala tends to herself, Newt shuts the door, the spiderlings can stay, the Gang are not going back in there.

Two minutes later Cas opens the last door on the southern wall, the room beyond seems to have been the private office of the tavern proprietor, furnished with a desk and chair against the wall to the right, a flimsy bookshelf lined with mildewed papers and record books, and an overstuffed couch. Another heavy blanket of dust and shrouds of cobwebs lie over everything, giving the chamber a ghostly, ominous appearance. 

The Gang move in, more cautiously than before, nothing leaps, jumps, crawls or just plain bites.

“Right, let’s take a look through the books, Newt give the place the once over, check everything- Jim and Bec keep an eye on him.”

Plan hatched they get to work; Newt even manages to salute the Paladin.

Ten minutes later, nearly all the books are beyond salvage, just rotten pulp, Anya however has discovered a little more information.

“The owner was called Crofter, Henry Crofter, and it seems he made his money as a fence rather than a landlord, there’s one other oddity, it seems someone was paying him 100 GP/month for, ‘storage’, that’s quite a lot.”
“Does it say who?” Jim asks.
“Nope, hang on there’s an initial here, I.R., not a lot to go on, anyway not our problem really.”
“Ok, let’s get going…” Cas interjects.
“Hang on.” Newt taps the wall, feels about the place for a second, the panel in front of him slides aside, revealing a frail-looking staircase that ascends into darkness. 

“A voila.” Newt bows before the Paladin, who places his foot on the first step of the stair, it groans.
“It really doesn’t look safe, we’ll come back to it, we’ll use the other stairs; try to find where this one comes out when we’re up there- ok?”
Newt nods and touches his forelock.

Cas leads them off again, back into the bar and up the stairs to the first floor of the Inn, and into a passageway with over half-a-dozen doors leading from it.

Aging floorboards, worn thin in the middle over decades of passage, creak eerily underfoot as Cas leads them on. Dust covers the floor, cheap paintings adorn the walls, a hooded lantern hangs idle from the ceiling in the corridor.

“That one.” Cas finds himself whispering, and pointing at the first door on the right, Newt nods heads over, and places his ear against the door.

“Squeaking- rats?” he whispers back.
Cas nods, the others follow his lead, they position themselves, as best they can in the cramped passage, around the door, ready… Cas kicks it in.

The only items in this room are thin, mouldy mattresses thrown upon the cold wooden floor. The room itself is musty and dark, illuminated only by a single claw-like beam of moonlight that reaches through a crack in the boarded-up window. There is a bitter scent in the humid air; a black tar like substance litters the floor.

Suddenly cacophonies of high-pitched squeaks, a mass of vicious-looking bats form a black tarp that stretches across the entire ceiling. The morbid creatures eye the adventurers with unusual interest, heads swivelling to watch, then as one, decision made- swarm.

FLING THUMP

Newt reacts with lightning speed hurls a sunrod into the chamber, which explodes with light, and then slams the door shut.

The squeaking reaches fever pitch, and is accompanied by a series of dull thuds as the bats explore their fury, and as soon as possible locate the exit.

Newt folds his arms, chews a nail and waits out the storm.

The others grin down at the Gnome, offer pats and caresses.

“Cas, look.” Ala points.

Along the hall there’s a trapdoor in the ceiling.

“The attic, we’ll clear these first- good work.”

Ala nods and smiles.

Thirty seconds later, when the squeaking and thumping is finally at an end, Newt gingerly opens the door again, espies that the room is now empty and takes a cursory look, cursory because the floor of the chamber is covered in a thick carpet of bat guano.

“Nah.” The Gnome declares, and heads back out.

Cas indicates the next door to be tried, this one the first on the left-hand wall, Newt sets to work again, no traps, no locks, no sound, it’s over to the Paladin.

Cas opens the door to a comfortably furnished room, with bed, closet, wash stand with basin, and a desk. There’s an uneasy aura clinging to the air here, an unnatural chill that hints of evil. Cas stops dead in his tracks, then looks behind him, his compatriots can feel it too.

“Don’t be frightened, there’s nothing in here, whatever was here has gone now, it’s just a memory.” Cas smiles back at the others, “it’s ok.”

The feeling of dread passes, the others slowly relax.

“We’ll search the place, Bec and Ala keep an eye out.”

“Well here’s where those stairs come up, you’re right, they look rotten.” Jim states, and sure enough this is the spot the secret stairs from below exit.

“From Potters Field.” Anya states.
“What?” Jim asks, truning to look.
“It’s a ghost book, or rather a book about ghosts.” Anya shows the group the book she’s found, “it’d take a while to read- see if there’s any clues in here.”

“And here we go.” Newt has moved the desk, found the secret panel in the wall, and then opened it- inside is another dusty tome. “Henry Crofter’s Diary.”

“Good work.” Anya’s over to the Gnome, she takes the book, flicks through its pages- nothing springs out. “I’ll need some time to check these out.”
“I think we should clear this area first, and possibly the attic, make it safe- I don’t want to be caught in here if I can help it, I don’t trust those stairs and I’m not going out of the window.”
“Makes sense.” Ala offers.
The others nod, they press on.

But before they go Cas turns to them, “I’m convinced this place is haunted, the spirit of Mari Kell is not at rest, be careful as you go.”

Cas indicates to Newt the next door on the left-hand wall, Newt does his stuff, stands aside for Cas.

The door is stiff, it resists Cas’ tug, swollen in the frame, the Paladin cautiously applies his shoulder, it comes open causing Cas to stumble into the chamber beyond, which is what he was trying not to do.

Fortunately it’s just a closet, a walk-in supply room, Stacks of yellowed and mouldy linens, boxes of rat-chewed candles, and moth-eaten pillows line the shelves. A dark discolouration on the ceiling suggests water, or perhaps some other liquid, has fouled the closet.

“It’s only…” And that’s as far as Cas gets- the door slams shut again, the Paladin’s in the dark.

In the same instant the trapdoor in the passageway slams open, which gets the attention of the other members of the Goodman Gang.

Inside the closet Cas squirms, there’s something in here with him, he can feel it, grasping at his legs, strange, not hands, something with a lighter touch, whatever it is it’s trying to wind itself around him, smother him.

“GET ME OUT OF HERE.” He screams.

Back in the passageway the woman’s voice comes again.

“LEEEAAAVEEE HEEERRREEE BEEEFFFOOORREEE IIIITTTT’SSS TTOOO LLLAAATTTTTEE.”

Next Turn: White as a sheet.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 60: White as a sheet.

“Bec get that door open.” Newt takes charge.

Anya and Jim rush down the passageway to the trapdoor, which slams back up as they approach, out of reach.

Inside the closet, whatever it is that is grappling Cas is winding its way up his torso, he struggles to prevent it doing so, dropping his sword and shield in the process.

“GET ME OUT.”

Bec tries to wrench the door open, to no avail, it’s stuck.

“Smash it.” Newt gasps.

The hulking Barbarian rams his shoulder into the portal, with instant results; the door is flung open, revealing Cas, as white as a ghost and half entwined by one of the sheets from the linen closet.

“It’s only…” Newt starts and then realises that the sheet is aiming to smother the Paladin, “Bec.” The Gnome calls.

The Barbarian grabs hold of Cas, drags him into the passageway, then begins to wrench the sheet off him, the Paladin struggles, helps the Barbarian to get him free.

Further down the passage the attic trapdoor bangs open again.

“YOOOOOOUUUU CCCAAANNNNOOOTTT SSSAAAVVVVEEE MMEEEE.”

Then slams shut again, leaving Jim and Anya shaking where they stand.

At last the sheet is off Cas, being held at bay by the Paladin and the Barbarian, it twists and turns in their hands, trying to escape.

“Stab it.” The Paladin demands.

The sheet attempts to coil and flex, escape its captors.

Newt stabs his blade into the linen, it bleeds, great gouts of dark red blood.

The sheet struggles violently, pulls itself free from Cas’ grasp, then as quickly, wraps itself around the Paladin’s throat, choking the life out of Cas.

“Rip it.” Cas wheezes.

Newt stabs again, more blood gushes out, while Bec lifts the linen above his head, the massive muscles on his arms bulge and pop.

TEAAAAAAAR

He rips the thing in two, and is caught in the waterfall of blood that spills from the rent creature.

Cas breathes again.

The silence returns, except at the end of the passageway, where Jim and Anya stare up at the trapdoor, they can hear footsteps.

“Cas.” No reply.
“Cas.” Jim states again, “there’s something upstairs.”

They all stop to listen.

Silence.

“Let’s get out of here?” Ala pleads.
“No, we finish what we started.” Cas motions towards the next door, looks pointedly at Newt.

Newt looks at his compatriots, then makes his decision, moves to the next door, the third on the left-hand wall, he gets to work.

And twenty seconds later moves away to allow the Paladin to open the portal.

The door opens to reveal a bedroom which looks like it was last occupied by blissful newlyweds. A large double bed draped with white fabric that has yellowed with age, a dust-shrouded night stand supports a glass vase filled with dried roses, a slender silver ring sits atop a silk pillow. Across the room stands a wardrobe, its doors open to reveal a collection of women’s clothes, all simple but not unattractive.

It looks as though the wedding night may not have ended happily. The bride, still dressed in her finery, the fabric clinging to her skeletal frame, reclines lifeless upon the bed.

“Careful.” Cas states the obvious and moves into the chamber, “Ala check the corpse is not undead.”

Ala whispers a short prayer and then goes over to examine the corpse bride; she soon has something to report.

“The body has been exhumed.”
“What?” Newt’s confused.
“Dug up. She was killed… murdered, it must have been terrible.” Ala concludes.
“She’s one of the original victims… of the Ripper.” Cas states.

Newt moves over to the bed.

“Newt don’t…” Cas starts, the Gnome grabs the ring.

The Skeleton Bride’s jaws instantly clack open, as if about utter a terrible cry of anguish, a hazy creature rushes out, at first no more than a puff of dust, it quickly takes the shape of a beautiful young woman, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a flawless pale complexion. The spirit is wearing a black dress, the only dash of colour being a red shawl pulled tight over her shoulders as if to ward off the biting cold.

“YOOOOOUUUUU MMMMMUUUUUUSSSSTTTT DDDDD…”

“Newt put it back.” Cas shouts.

The Gnome darts a hand out and replaces the ring in an instant, shuffles backwards, clearly terrified.

“MARI… It’s Mari Kell isn’t it?” Cas stares at the apparition.

“We mean you no harm. We want to help you… if we can. Please, please let us.”

The Ghost of Mari Kell hovers over her corpse, unmoving.

“Tell us what we must do to lay your spirit to rest, we will do it if we can.”

Mari Kell reaches down, cautious, touches Ala’s cheek, which is tear streaked.

“All men must die because of what they did to me.” Mari whispers.

“We didn’t do this. We’re not here to harm you; we want to put things right- like you do… Please help us Mari Kell.”

Silence, the spirit of Mari Kell looks solemnly at Cas, weighing each and every one of the Paladin’s words.

“Gooooo Innnnn Peeeaaaaccceee.”

Mari Kell disappears.

“Leave the ring Newt, leave it.” Cas warns.

“KILLLLL HIIIMMM. KIIIIILLLL THE RIPPPPPEEEEERRRRRRRR. NOOOO MOOOORRREEEE WOOOMMEEENNNN MMMUUUSSSSTTTT DDDIIIEEEE.”

“We will Mari, we will, on this night, I swear to you.”

The entire building seems to settle, the sense of dread is lifted, nothing happens, except perhaps the Goodman Gang relax for the first time.

“Search the rest of the rooms.” Ala states, “We’ll find this bastard.”

The rest of the floor is soon searched, with no mishaps, and nothing of interest found, the other rooms are nothing more than empty guest rooms, all ravaged by time but otherwise unspectacular.

“The attic.” Cas points up, “take it easy Newt, there may be somebody up there.”

Bec grabs hold of the Gnome and boosts him into the air, to the trapdoor, Newt gets to work, and soon after declares its clear, the Gnome lifts the trapdoor up, shines a sunrod into the gloom.

Newt feels a stiff cool breeze on his face. His eyes adjust to the light, he spies a low-ceilinged attic filled with boxes. Suddenly he swivels, hears a rustling sound coming from a shadowy recess.

Newt waits a moment. The sound stops.

“Who… Who’s there?”
“Ewan, it’s Ewan- please help me.”
“Are you the Ripper?” Newt whispers.

Silence.

“The who?”

Ewan struggles into the light, he’s a dishevelled looking individual, about forty years of age, human, his eyes are perfect white orbs.

“Help me, help me please, I’m blind… I… I saw a ghost.”

Ewan staggers towards the sound of Newt’s voice.

“Get him down Newt, carefully.”

And twenty minutes later the tale of Ewan Treborne has been told, a scam artist forced to flee when a trick went badly wrong, hiding up in the attic after crossing a number of roofs, choosing this one because of the trapdoor in the roof. He’s not the Ripper, harmless and tearful, definitely not a killer.

Newt is sent back up into the attic, and there makes a grizzly discovery, just below the trapdoor leading onto the roof is the crumpled and mutilated corpse of a woman, she lies in a pool of her own blood. Her body has been savaged by numerous deep cuts; her right arm is slightly detached from the body, neatly severed by a single stroke. A similar wound to the neck has almost decapitated the head from the torso. The abdominal cavity is empty, its contents heaped in a pile nearby. Her face is hacked beyond recognition. Whoever did this was certainly possessed by an unnatural rage, and was extremely powerful.

Newt voids his stomach, till there’s nothing left to bring up, Newt smartens himself up and then heads back to the trapdoor.

“Cas.”
“What is it Newt?”
“You need to come and see this.”

Ten minutes later, most of the Gang have been up to take a look, the adventurers reassemble in the passageway.

“We’ve been top to bottom.” Ala states.
“Actually bottom to top.” Cas corrects.
“So… the Ripper’s not here.” 
“Maybe we missed something, either way, we start back at the bottom.”

Ala shrugs. “Ok.”
“Besides we’ll put Ewan in with the wounded guy downstairs in the basement. And we’ll come back for the woman upstairs, make sure she gets a proper burial.”

And so they do, checking as they go, back into the cellar where they first heard Mari scream.

And it’s there that Jim notices a set of heavy footprints, much larger than a humans, easily discernable in the wet earth, they stop at the south wall.

“It’s a secret door.” Newt confirms, “exactly opposite the one we came through into this place.” Newt scolds himself, “Stupid.” 
“We’ve found it now, get ready.” Cas draws his longsword.

Next Turn: The Ripper.


----------



## Dr Simon

As I recall there's quite a few bait-and-switch ploys in this adventure, the last one rather random.  Your established setting of the mean streets of Grimbo fits the background of this one quite well.

Atmospheric stuff, the last installment but one even managed to give me nightmares!


----------



## Goonalan

Dr Simon said:
			
		

> As I recall there's quite a few bait-and-switch ploys in this adventure, the last one rather random.  Your established setting of the mean streets of Grimbo fits the background of this one quite well.
> 
> Atmospheric stuff, the last installment but one even managed to give me nightmares!




Blimey, my players usually give me nightmares, not this lot but the Lost Boys- I dreamt I was being chased through the Sunless Citadel by them once, terrifying. They we're dressed in character, I didn't sleep a wink for the rest of the night.

Thanks Dr. S.

And so-

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 61: The Ripper.

The Gang head through into a short corridor, a closed door on the left, an archway leading into a chamber twenty or so feet ahead.

“I can feel it, we’re near the end.” Cas states.

Anya nods, mutters arcane words, starting her protection spells. Ala shuffles behind the front line, casting healing spells, ensuring everyone is in peek condition.

“The door first.” Cas states.

Newt does his stuff and then signals for the Paladin to take over.

The door opens to reveal a rectangular chamber with a recessed antechamber to the side. Etched into the stone floor is a crude pentagram surrounded by various sinister looking arcane symbols. Tall candelabras line the outer portion of the room, but their tallow candles are cold and unlit.

The antechamber was obviously a laboratory and study at one time. On a bench lie various jars, rolled parchments, a human skull, a ritualistic dagger, and bottles filled with discoloured liquids. Lying slumped in a chair behind the bench, arms thrown over its face in terror and body twisted in obvious agony, is a skeletal figure. It’s clear it died in a horrible fashion, probably many decades ago.

Cas steps back out of the chamber, barring the way in to the others, “leave it, this is not the place, there is only evil and despair here, it’s the other way, onwards.” Cas points to the archway ahead, which seems to be filled with a ruby mist.
“Can’t we just take a look?” Newt ducks under Cas’ arm.
“Newt. Don’t go in the pentagram, the symbol on the floor, and don’t touch the skeleton.” Anya calls out.

The Gnome creeps in, across the chamber, grabs what he can from the desk and scurries back to the doorway, carefully avoiding the pentagram.

Ala mutters arcane words; her Detect Magic signals which items within the hoard are magical. Theses are quickly put away, the rest of the junk discarded. 

Which only leaves…

A dark crimson mist fills the room through the archway ahead; the mist seems to glow, to swallow up the light that the adventurers bring. The stomach-churning stench of blood hangs heavy in the damp air.

Instinctively the Goodman Gang crouch and shuffle, as quietly as they can, into the chamber.

“It’s…”
“Shhh.”

Cas, in places, can barely see his hand before his face, he looks down at his armour, it’s bloodstained, the mist is indeed blood.

He bumps his toe on something.

“Here.” Cas whispers.
Newt scurries forward, the others congregate, it’s the stone lip of a fountain, the fountain itself takes the shape of a leering skeletal dragon. The liquid in the pool surrounding is blood too, chunks of flesh and viscera float lazily by.

“Feck.” Newt whispers and swallows hard as a human hand surfaces and bobs in the bloody pool.

There’s writing around the base of the fountain, Ala peers through the mist.

“Elven”, she whispers, “it says, ‘The mist that surrounds you shrouds your vision. Prove now that your perception is true, and all will become clear. As the sun rises and falls so too must the dragon’s horn be turned, a number of times equal to the characters in the alphabet.’”

“Eleven.” Anya states.
“How…” Newt asks.
“Eleven, the number of letters in ‘Alphabetico’, the Elven word for alphabet- try it.” Anya’s sure.
“You sure?” Cas asks.
“Probably.” Anya shrugs, “try it Newt.”

Cautiously the Gnome leaps the pool to the base of the skeletal dragon statue, climbs the thing so he can reach up to the horn, goes to turn it.

“Other way.” Anya states.
“What?”
“The sun rises in the east, sets in the west, anti-clockwise.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Newt grins, turns the dragon’s horn through eleven circuits, something clicks, the Gnome scrambles down and leaps back into Bec’s waiting arms.

“Now back out, the mist should clear.” Anya shuffles back the way she came, the others follow.

Back into the corridor.

They wait.

“Get ready.” Jim whispers.

The red mist seems to be clearing.

It takes a while.

And then it’s gone.

It’s a large chamber, it must be fifty feet west to east, beyond the fountain is another circular area, ten feet in diameter, a stone lip surrounds it, an unfamiliar script weaves its way around the inner and outer edge of this circle.

The Goodman Gang pass on, towards the dark archway at the far end of the chamber, except for Ala who suddenly comes to a halt.

“Find me, free me…” A woman’s voice, whispered, soft and gentle, certainly not the voice of Mari Kell.

“Cas…” Ala starts.
“Shhh.” The Paladin cuts the Priestess off.

Ala looks around there’s no one to be seen.

“There’s something ahead”, Cas points to the archway, darkness beyond, “something very Evi…”

His speech is cut off; a figure leaps from the shadow and lands before Cas, the two stare at each for a second, time expands. It’s like staring into the very face of terror. With its ashen pallor and leathery, weathered skin the being looming before Cas has the appearance of a very old, emaciated man. Atop its head rests a redcap, coloured by blood rather than dye, and on its feet a pair of oversized hobnailed iron boots. Its fiery red eyes bore menacingly at the Paladin, conveying such contempt, it’s as if it views pond scum instead of threats to its very existence. The creature moves, as fast as lightning- long, skinny arms, clutched in its claw like hands a pair of glistening sickles, razor sharp.

The Redcap buries both sickles into Cas’ chest, piercing his armour as if it were made of paper rather than hardened steel.

And its stare.

The Paladin flounders, falls back, gasping; his life force leaching away.

Its stare, Cas cannot wrench his eyes free.

The Ripper is unleashed

The Paladin slumps to the floor, mewling like a child, and yet still unable to tear his gaze away.

Newt scuttles backwards, he’s not getting anywhere near this guy, and fires, the bolt flies well wide, maybe something to do with how much his hand is shaking.

“BUFFET.”

Bec steps up to the plate, swings his longsword with all his might, the creature lightning fast snakes out an arm, the blade connects, and bounces away, arm unmarked- not a scratch.

The Redcap grins and beckons the Barbarian forward.

Anya and Jim dive back, flat-footed by this latest turn of events.

Ala rushes to Cas, pumps healing into the stricken Paladin.

“Magic weapons.” The Paladin gasps, and then again, louder this time, “MAGIC WEAPONS.”

A palpable wave of terror crashes through the chamber.

More than half of the adventurers turn away, ready to flee the place.

“Fight it.” Cas shouts and staggers to his feet, “don’t give in.”

The Goodman Gang stand fast.

Bec launches another attack; the Redcap catches his sword in the crook of one of his sickles, diverts the blow aside, then steps in and opens an eight inch wound in the Barbarian’s side.

“Magic weapons Bec.” Jim dives in, past the Barbarian, crashes his axe into the Redcap’s side, the blade cuts deep, and yet the Redcap just grins.

Then screams.

An ululating noise that echoes around the chamber and yet seems to be focussed on Jim, the sound fills the Ranger’s head, he turns away, clutches at his temple, straining desperately to block the noise out his whole being wracked with pain- then, as suddenly, the sound is gone.

Jim turns back to face the creature, hefts his axe back around, smiling thinly at the terror.

Ala reaches forward, around Bec, clutches her hand to the pommel of Bec’s longsword, which momentarily glows.

“Now, kill it.” She whispers.

The Barbarian does as he’s told, parries the Redcaps next attack and then stabs the creature in the gut, it bleeds profusely, and yet continues to smile.

“I bring yew pain.” The Redcap gasps, and smiles some more.

Cas, still fighting to stand, swigs down a healing vial, throws the vessel away once its drained.

Anya dodges hard right, gets a clear sight of the creature, she mutters arcane words, a sudden flash of light explodes before the Redcap, it barely registers the spell, swings again at Bec and Jim, who both manage, just, to block its blows.

At the rear Newt fumbles out a Potion of Spider Climbing, glugs it down, then leaps onto the wall, scurries up and onto the ceiling, well out of harms way.

Bec alas cannot parry the Redcap’s next blow, the creature scores a groove into the hulking Barbarian’s chest, he staggers back, and yet cannot stop himself from staring into the soulless creature’s fiery eyes. Bec feels a rumbling darkness wash over him, he blinks it away, just, and comes up ready again for action.

Bec’s blood boils, a red tide, of his own making washes over him, the Barbarian Rages, swings again and takes a chunk of flesh out of the Redcaps left shoulder, leaving a gaping flapping wound. 

The Redcap grimaces.

“Fecking Buffet.” The Barbarian gasps through blood-flecked lips.

Jim follows up the Barbarian’s attack but is brushed aside with ease.

“Fall back; get him out of the doorway.” Cas shouts and pulls Jim back. Bec too is grabbed by Ala, pouring healing into him, he’s dragged backwards so that they can get at the Redcap from all sides.

The Redcap is not frightened in the least; it rushes forward, straight at Bec again, dodges another of the Barbarian’s sword thrusts, but fails to score a hit.

“Feck this- time to die.” Anya seems to have reached her limit, she dodges into the fracas, flanking the creature, and thumps her staff into its unprotected side, it seems to have little if any effect, except perhaps to make the Redcap even angrier.

The creature whirls around with lightning speed, raking both sickles across the Wizard’s chest, she staggers backwards, gasping, blood coursing down her, realises she’s on the very edge of consciousness.

“I…” Anya staggers into a wall and stays there breathing hard, her clothes are matted in her blood, “I…”, she half-collapses.

Newt scurries across the ceiling, above and behind the Redcap.

Fwung.

He misses; the bolt buries itself into the stone floor just to the creature’s rear.

“Damnation.” The Rogue whispers.

This causes the Redcap to smile up at the Gnome, as if he had heard his name, he grins, and giggles and then gets back to the job at hand.

Next Turn: A fight to the death.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 62: A fight to the death.

Bec is locked in battle with the Redcap, he cannot tear his eyes away from the creature, yet another dark wave engulfs him, and yet again he shakes it off, comes up swinging. The distraction is enough though, the Redcap buries its sickle into the Barbarian’s arm, Bec fights back, his longsword bites deep into the Redcap’s other shoulder, and yet it fights on, ducks and dodges a low blow from Jim.

Cas sees his opportunity, leaps in and delivers a terrible blow, opening up a three inch deep gash on the Redcap’s forehead, blood fills the creature’s eyes.

The creature slashes back with all its might, over-extends itself, misses as the Paladin dodges back in the nick of time.

Ala quickly moves to Cas’ side, darts in with her magic dagger, anything to mark the creature, it’s too quick however, it twists and turns and dodges aside.

Anya props herself against the wall, swigs a Potion of Healing, it makes little difference, her wounds still pour with blood.

Newt, still on the ceiling, tries again with his crossbow- but with the same effect, the creature seems able to dodge the missiles, even when they’re coming from above and behind him.

The Redcap steps forward again, straight at Bec, ducks the Barbarian’s longsword, then leaps pirouettes and slices opening up a pair of foot long gashes in the Barbarian’s neck and upper chest. 

The Barbarian stumbles once, then folds like a deck of cards.

Jim mouths words between gasps, the Redcap turns to stare at the Ranger, holds his gaze, and smiles- a dark wave washes over the Ranger, Jim feels himself melting inside, fading away.

Then for some reason he thinks about his father.

“Bastaaaaaard.”

And the black wave is gone.

Jim crashes his axe into the Redcap’s side.

Cas and Ala dodge forward, double team the creature, it blocks both their blows easily, and yet staggers from the Ranger’s blow. Cas and Ala dodge back away again before the creature can recover.

The Redcap hobbles.

Anya however does not- she leaps up.

“DIIIIIIeeeeeee.”

Rushes at the fiend, and lances her staff into the creature’s knee, it hardly seems to mind, returns the compliment and slashes at the air before her, forcing Anya to hot foot it, stumbling and flailing, back out of the fight.

“Enough.” Newt whispers.

He leaps down from the ceiling and buries all twelve inches of his short sword in the Redcap’s back, a blue lightning engulfs the creature, as the Shocking Grasp stored in the sword takes effect.

The Redcap stiffens.

Sways.

And then stumbles forward, causing Cas and Ala to adopt defensive poses.

It collapses.

Dead.

The Ripper is dead.

Not content Newt stands over the creature’s body, plunges his short sword a dozen more times into the Redcap’s back, till the Gnome’s exhausted.

Done, Newt drops the blade and wanders off.

Ala is quickly to Bec, her healing jolts him awake, it makes her gasp; she feels how close Bec was to death, on the very precipice.

DMs Interlude, after Bec’s rage wore off he dropped to -9 hit points- close.

Bec blinks his eyes, smiles up at Ala.

“He dead?”
Ala nods. The giant man grins and levers himself up.

“Good, I mean ‘buffet.’” The Barbarian grins and carries on the rest of the conversation with Ala with his eyes, clearly grateful- full of life, he twinkles.

They wait a moment, no one saying anything.

Eventually Newt sparks another sunrod and heads into the darkened alcove from which the Redcap came, Cas follows after.

The little chamber chills the heart, there’s an overwhelming sense of pure evil coming from it, hatred so deep, like a bottomless well.

The walls are decorated with crude fetishes crafted from bits of flesh, hair, bone and organs. Stinking viscera is smeared across almost every surface. Simple furnishings fill the room- a chest, a ramshackle table, and a pile of humanoid and animal pelts that seems to act as a bed. In a disorganised array across the tabletop and floor are jars containing preserved organs and a gruesome collection of body parts wrapped in bloody rags. Mixed in with the remains are instruments of terror, all the items one would expect in a well-stocked torture chamber.

“Search everything.” Cas commands.
“Happy to oblige, Captain.”

Although he’s not, Newt gulps, tries to swallow, his lips are dry, his throat too. He gets to work.

Ala moves back to where she heard the whisper, the second circular area.

“Find me, free me…”

It comes again, and this time Anya hears it too.

The Wizard, still clutching at her wounds, moves to the area, she studies the spot- reads the runes, in Draconic, that circle the area.

“To enter or exit the realm of the Undine, speak ‘Descend’ or ‘Ascend’ in the tongue of the builders.”
“What?” Jim asks.
“I fear our adventure is not over yet.”
“What?” Jim tries again.
“It seems we have found an entrance, ‘to the realm of the Undine’, here.” Anya points.
“An Un-what?” Cas wanders over.
“Undine, an Aquatic Elf.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” Newt joins the circle, back from filling his pockets.

“There’s more to this place than meets the eye, first we need to go back and tell them we’ve got the Ripper. Let’s get out of here, I’m not keen on going any further right now, we need to get those men back to the Church of Pelor, and arrange burials for the body in the attic, and for Mari, I only hope somehow this will let her spirit rest.”

The Paladin takes a last look at the bloodied chamber and then leads the rest of the Goodman Gang quickly back the way they came.

Next Turn: A secret meeting.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Great stuff, Goonalan.

I don't know whether it's the intensity of the module or just that you'r really hitting your stride, but the recent updates have been as good as just about anything on these boards.

My one tiny suggestion for improvement is that you put the "DM's interlude" comments in square brackets or a different font, or do them as footnotes, just to separate them from the narrative a bit more.

Looking forward to the next instalment.


----------



## Goonalan

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> Great stuff, Goonalan.
> 
> I don't know whether it's the intensity of the module or just that you'r really hitting your stride, but the recent updates have been as good as just about anything on these boards.
> 
> My one tiny suggestion for improvement is that you put the "DM's interlude" comments in square brackets or a different font, or do them as footnotes, just to separate them from the narrative a bit more.
> 
> Looking forward to the next instalment.




Why thanks for that, finished work early for the festive season- nothing to do till Jan, so time aplenty for a few more posts.

You are of course right about the DM's Interludes- it shall be done, excellent suggestion.

Merry Christmas

And on we go...

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 63: A secret meeting.

Bec picks up the Grimbo Graph, the local paper, spreads it out on the table, takes another bite of his monstrous sandwich and reads the headlines, and then the story beneath.

“The Ripper is Dead.”

“Last night saw the end to the reign of destruction that has rocked The Nunny community these last few weeks, with the death of the terrible beast The Ripper at the hands of The Goodman Gang, employed to hunt down the murderer by the famous Grimbo City Watch. 

Some time in the small hours the brave party members ventured deep into The Nunny, and to the Ten Bells Inn, the haunt of the first Ripper, there the dedicated warriors and wizards battled through traps and fiends to finally destroy the ghoulish beast.

A high ranking member of the Watch informed this reporter that the reign of terror had finally come to an end this morning. He went on to say that the inhabitants of The Nunny were now able to go about their law-abiding business under the guaranteed safety of the City Watch, once again peace reigns in The Nunny.

No members of the Goodman Gang were available for comment, although this reporter managed to secure a few details:- 

Lord Casimir La Frond, a Paladin of the Church of Pelor, much loved by both the rich and poor of Grimbo for his good deeds, he may be romantically involved with the Belle of every Ball, Lady Arabella Ross. 

Priestess Ala of the Church of Correllon, an emissary of the strange and seductive Elven people. 

Jim Bowen a local Woodsman from Lowth, quite a catch, the young man seems to have a way with women and wild animals, his boyish good looks and simple charm able to tame the mightiest of beasts.

Anya’Drea, the beautiful Wizardess, little is known about this enchanting beauty, a hit at Grimbo College, Professor Toomes has high hopes for her.

Beck, a mighty warrior of extremely limited intellect, originally from Grimbo, his past is shrouded in mystery.

And last, but by no-means least, Tadpole, a brave Gnome… ahem Lockpicker.”

Bec reads on, “Tadpole”, the big man whispers and grins, takes another bite of his sandwich. Farmer Giles mooches into the kitchen, looking for something to do.

“Sandwich?” Bec offers, holding up his monstrous construct.

Farmer Giles shakes his head and wanders off again.

Meanwhile Cas and Ala sit opposite Arabella Ross, her father’s huge desk separating them. 

“I’m sooooo, sooooo grateful; once again you have come to my rescue Cassy Wassy.” Arabella gushes.
“That’s…” Cas starts.
“And the rest of you of course.” Arabella offers a peremptory nod in Ala’s direction.
Ala nods back, “Thanks.”

Arabella moves around the desk, hitches up her skirt and plonks herself down before the pair, intimidating one, and arousing the other.

A vast expense of leg and thigh fills Cas’ vision.

“That’s… er… fine. Is there anything else we can do?” Cas finds himself saying, much to Ala’s chagrin, she stares at her companion, hard.

“That is…” Cas starts up again.
“It’s funny you should say that… I’d like you to attend a ball I’m holding here this evening, there’s somebody I want you to meet, or rather they would like to meet you, Cassy Wassy.”
“That’d be…” Ala edges into the conversation.
“Alone, of course. Shall we say eight- I’ll send my carriage to the Inn.”
“What…” Ala goes for it again.
“It’s the Wheatsheaf Inn isn’t it, room twelve, the curtains there are awfully thin, otherwise it’s… adequate.”

And that’s it, the interview is over.

Newt makes his way to The Nunny, he’s got some training to undertake. In fact every member of the Goodman Gang, except for the good Paladin, spends some time advancing their skills.

At some point in the week, they decide not to head back to the Ten Bells and the Undine straight away, a member of the Grimbo City watch catches up with the Gang and delivers a small chest packed full of gold coins, one thousand coins in total.

Anya even has time to make good use of Newt’s chemistry set, she spends time and money, prepares a few Potions.

Time passes, particularly slowly for Cas who has nothing to do, except attend a ball with lady Arabella Ross.

And thus it goes.

In his best bib and tucker Cas arrives at the Ross residence, for eight. It’s a swanky affair, the great and the good of Grimbo, mostly those with money to burn.

Arabella looks…

Arabella looks…

She looks…

There isn’t a word, or phrase for that matter, to adequately do justice to how she looks.

And yet for the entire of the evening she sees fit to leave the Paladin alone, he has no friends here, or so he thinks.

And so it comes as quite a surprise when at around midnight the party comes to an end.

Arabella’s not even about to wish him goodbye.

A coach comes to take him home; he’s about a quarter of the way back to the Wheatsheaf Inn when the vehicle suddenly stops, the door opens and Major Khan gets in.

“Hello, Lord La Frond, hope you had a pleasant time this evening?”
“Very nice, now what do you want?” Cas replies.
“First of all I’d like to say thank you for helping us out with the Ripper, much appreciated, we couldn’t have done it with out you.”
“You couldn’t have done it?”
“That said it seems our business has not been concluded, I have a story to tell, and I think you’ll want to hear it.” Major Khan leans back into the shadows of the carriage.
Cas waits a while, “ok, let’s hear it.”
“Beneath the Ten Bells Inn is a prison, a prison for a creature of pure Evil, an Undine, an Aquatic Elf that was captured several centuries ago and entombed alive there. The creature came to Grimbo to destroy the city, although it was nothing more than a very large village then- it, or rather ‘she’, failed- as you can see.” Khan gestures out of the window, and grins.
“That’s interesting, what’s it got to do with me, us?”
“Well, we believe that you are in an ideal position to help us, you have of course found the entrance to the prison…”
“How do you…”
“I sent some Watchmen to the Ten Bells, a small matter, you’d have to stupid to miss it, and your not stupid are you, it would be stupid of me to think so. It of course helps that the Undine seems to be able to alert those close by to her situation, she’s calling for help you see. It’s very probable she has escaped her prison- I would therefore like to hire you and your compatriots to investigate this matter, and more importantly to put an end to the Undine’s threat, believe me it is the people of Grimbo who will suffer should she escape her prison. The people will suffer badly, actually they’ll die in their droves, should she escape.”
Cas thinks about it.
“I’m not stupid Lord La Frond, I know you’re a man of the people, I read the paper.”
“You…”
“Desperate measures Lord La Frond; of course we’ll pay you, 1000 gold coins for the death of the Undine.”

Cas stops to think about it again, takes his time, mulls it over.

“What can you tell me about the Prison?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“Nothing, other than it will probably be packed full of traps, and other terrible obstacles… Nothing you can’t handle of course. I read it in the paper so it must be true.”

“Anything else?” Cas asks, disgusted, again.
“One more thing, we’re sending some guards in with you, they’ll protect your back. Make sure nothing dangerous gets out of the Prison… alive.”
Cas stirs in his seat, sits up.
“Probably safest, you’d agree, to seal the Prison behind you.”

The carriage stops.

“Well, enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Cas grabs hold of Major Khan, it could get ugly.

“Do you know what you are?”

Cas pulls the Major in so they’re face to face.

“You’re a spineless, cowardly…”
“There a problem here Major?”

A squad or two of the Grimbo City Watch melt out of the dark and shadow, easily two dozen well armed, and armoured, men.

“No, no problem.” Khan states prising Cas’ hands off of him, he brushes himself down, then heads off into the night.

“G’night Casimir. Sleep well, don’t have nightmares.” And he’s gone.

Time passes.

Next Turn: Catch Up


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Five of the Goodman Gang are up a level, herein their revised stats.

“Jim” Bowen​
Human Male Ranger Level 3 
NG HP 35 AC 19 Init +2
Str 14 Dex 15 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 12 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +6 Ref +5 Will +3
+1 Battleaxe (family heirloom) +6 d8+3 
Longbow (Masterwork Mighty (+2)) +7 d8+2 or Rapid Fire +5/+5  
Dagger, Silver +5 or +5 d4+2
Armour: Griffin insignia Masterwork Breastplate and Large Masterwork Wooden Shield.

Feats: Skill Focus (Trapmaking), Point Blank Shot, Track, Favoured Enemy- Dire Animals, Ranger Two-Weapon Fighting & Ambidexterity, Rapid Shot, Weapon Focus Longbow. 

Skills of note: Animal Empathy +4 Climb +5 Craft (Trapmaking) +6 Handle Animal +4 Hide +7 Jump +6 Knowldege (Nature) +3 Listen +5 Move Silently +6 Search +3 Spot +3 Wilderness Lore +6

Items of note: Potion Cure Lt x4; Potion Darkvision; Cloak of Resistance +1, 20 Silver Arrows, Vial of Antitoxin, Potion Spider Climb, Potion of Love, 10 Sunrods.

Light Warhorse “Sarge” & associated kit and caboodle.

Bec​
Human Male Barbarian Level 3
CG HP 46 AC 17 Init +1
Str 18 Dex 12 Con 18 Int 11 Wis 8 Ch 9 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +2 Will 0
Mighty (+4) Masterwork Composite Longbow +5 d8+4
+1 Dagger of Wounding +8 or +5 d4+5
Greatclub +7 d10+6
Longsword Masterwork +8 d8+4 (usually with Buckler +1)
Greatsword Masterwork Cold Iron +8 2d6+6
Armour: Studded Leather Masterwork, Buckler +1, Bracers of Armour +1.

Feats: Toughness, Power Attack, Rage, Cleave, Uncanny Dodge & Greater Cleave.

Skills of note: Climb +10 Concentration +4 Jump +9 Listen +3 Ride +3 Spot +3 Swim +9 Use Rope +4 Wilderness Lore +3

Items of note: Climbers Kit, Wax Balls of Cure Lt x3, Potion Blur, Potion of Cure Moderate, Bracers of Armour +1.

Heavy Warhorse “Kaul” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Lord Casimir​
Human Male Paladin of Pelor Level 2 
LG HP 23 AC 19 Init +1
Str 15 Dex 13 Con 14 Int 14 Wis 11 Ch 14 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +3 Will +4
+1 Longsword Cold Iron +5 d8+3 
Longbow +3 d8 
Light Mace +4 d6+2
Armour: Shiny Breastplate +1 & Sparkling Large Masterwork Steel Shield

Feats: Negotiator, Dodge, Mobility, Detect Evil, Lay on Hands, Divine Health, Smite Evil, Aura of Courage.

Skills of note: Concentration +3 Diplomacy +9 Handle Animal +6 Knowledge (History) +5 Knowledge (Local) +7 Knowledge (Religion) +6 Ride +5 Sense Motive +6 Spot +4 

Items of note: 3 Flasks of Holy Water, 5 Silver Arrows, Potion of Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion of Vision, Potion of Haste, Healing Kit.

Light Warhorse “Reggie” & associated kit and caboodle.

Anya’Drea​
Human Female Wizard Level 3 
CG HP 18 AC 15 Init +5
Str 10 Dex 13 Con 12 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 17 
Saves Fort +2 Ref +2 Will +3
+1 Quarterstaff  +2 d6+1 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +3 d8
Dagger Coral Masterwork Keen +2 or +3 d4
Armour: Leather Armour, Ring of Protection +1, Bracers of Armour +1

Feats: Skill Focus (Use Magic Device), Armour Proficiency (Light), Improved Initiative, Scribe Scroll, Toughness, Brew Potion. 

Skills of note: Alchemy +6 Appraise +3 Bluff +3 Concentrate +7 Craft (Model) +3 Decipher Script +7 Diplomacy +3 Disguise +3 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +5 Intimidate +3 Knowledge (Arcane) +9 Knowledge (Architecture & Engineering) +4 Knowledge (Geography) +4 Knowledge (History) +4 Knowledge (Nature) +4 Knowledge (Nobility & Royalty) +4 Knowledge (The Planes) +4 Knowledge (Religion) +4 Listen +4 Move Silently +3 Perform (Vogue) +3 Scry +5 Search +3 Spellcraft +9 Use Magic Device +10

Familiar, actually Follower (of sorts) Swish, Animated Broom.

Spells: 	Lvl 0 (4) All; 
Lvl 1 (4) Shield, Mage Armour, Mount, Dummon Monster I, Unseen Servant, Detect Secret Doors, Detect Undead, Identify, Magic Missile, Colour Spray, Cause Fear, Expeditious Retreat, Shocking Grasp, Spider Climb, Charm Person, Sleep.
Lvl 2 (2) Fog Cloud, Scare, Spectral Hand, Darkvision, Endurance, Knock, Rope Trick.

Items of note: Scrolls- not so many of them as before, Wand of Burning Hands (Level 3- 13 Charges); Potion Cure Lt. x5, Potion of Intelligence, Pearl of Power (lvl 1), Necklace of Fireballs Type I, 2 Bags of Caltrops; 6 Tindertwigs, 10 Sunrods.

“Swish” Animated Broom companion AC15 Mv30 Init+2 +1 Slam d4 Hardness 5 Fort +0 Ref +2 Will -5

Light Warhorse “Mr. Fizz” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Newt​
Gnome Male Rogue Level 3
NG HP 22 AC 19 Init +3
Str 11 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +3 Ref +6 Will +3
Heavy Mace Masterwork +4 d6 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +7 d6
+1 Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) of Spell Storing (Shocking Grasp D8+2) +4 D4+1
Adamantine Ceremonial Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) +3 D4
Dagger Masterwork Silver +4 or +7 d3
Armour: +1 Chain Shirt

Feats: Nimble Fingers, Low Light Vision, +1 To Hit vs. Goblinoids and Kobolds, +4 Dodge vs. Giants, Point Blank Shot, Evasion, Rapid Shot.

Skills of note: Alchemy +10 Appraise +5 Balance +8 Climb +5 Craft (Locksmith) +6 Decipher Script +5 Disable Device +10 Escape Artist +4 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +11 Intimidate +3 Jump +5 (+35 with Ring of Jumping) Listen +8 Move Silently +9 Open Lock +11 Pick Pocket +4 Read Lips +5 Ride (Pony) +3 Scry +3 Search +9 Spot +6 Tumble +5 Use Rope +3

Spells: Ghost Sound, Dancing Lights, Prestidigitation & Speak with Burrowing Animals.

Items of note: Silk Climbing Rope, 10 Tindertwigs, 3 Thunderstones, 2 Tanglefoot bags, 10 Sunrods, 2 Smoke Sticks, 5 Alchemist’s Fire, Thieves Tools Masterwork, 10 Silver tipped Bolts, 20 Masterwork Bolts, 3 Flasks of Acid, Potion Cure Lt x4, Potion Spider Climb x2, Potion Invisibility, Ring of Jumping, Ring of Minor Sonic Resistance.

War Pony “Dobbin” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Ala​
Elf Female Cleric Level 3 
NG HP 26 AC 21 Init +3
Str 14 Dex 17 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 17 Ch 13 
Saves Fort +4 Ref +4 Will +6
Longsword Masterwork +6 d8+2
Composite Longbow Masterwork Mighty (+2) +6 d8+2
Dagger Silver +4 or +5 d4+2
+1 Dagger +5 or +6 d4+3
Masterwork Heavy Mace +5 d8+2 
Armour: Chain Shirt Masterwork, Large Masterwork Steel Shield & Ring of Protection +2

Feats: Point Blank Shot, Weapon Focus (Longsword), Turn Undead (4/day), Extra Turning.

Skills of note: Balance +3 Concentration +4 Diplomacy +3 Escape Artist +3 Heal +8 Hide +3 Listen +5 Move Silently +3 Ride (Horse) +3 Sense Motive +3 Spot +5 Use Rope +3 Wilderness Lore +3

Spells: Lvl 0 (4) Lvl 1 (4) Lvl 2 (3)
Domains: War & Good.

Items of note: 2 Healer’s Kits, Scroll Protection from Elements, Potion Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion Cure Moderate Wounds, Scroll Hold Person & Deeper Darkness and a few others, Vial of Silversheen.

Light Riding Horse “Slim” & associated kit and caboodle.

Next Turn: The Key.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 65: The Key.

And so the night before the Goodman Gang are set to return to the Ten Bells Inn, and into the Undine’s Prison below, Cas makes his own special pilgrimage back to the site. He finds his way in and heads upstairs, back to Mari’s room- the place is still dirty, dilapidated and deserted, it has however lost its sense of dread.

And yet there she is, hovering over the bed exactly where Cas expected her to be.

“It was 125 years ago…” Cas explains, he looks forlorn.

Mari looks away; even in ghost form Cas can see the tears in her eyes.

“I don’t know where to begin, you have to help me, you have to…”

Mari’s spirit shivers, she shakes her head.

“I want to find your killer it was just so long ago, I don’t know where to start, I’m not… I’m not very good at this- you see we’ve only just started, the others, my friends, they’re much better at this than me… I mean, I pretend… I…”

Mari straightens, her spirit form drifts over towards Cas, the Paladin bows his head.

“I will try… I’ll do my best, I just… I just.”

Mari lays her hand on Cas’ head, strokes his hair, tender.

“I’ve waited 125 years… I’ll wait a little while longer.” She whispers.

Cas looks up, into her eyes.

“I have… I have hope, you gave me that, that’ll do… for now.”

Mari Kell releases Cas from her embrace, she begins to fade, Cas reaches out to her.

But she’s gone.

The Paladin cries a little and then heads home to Ala’s warm, and forgiving, embrace.

The next day the Goodman Gang are assembled back in the chamber with the red mist, it’s been cleaned, a little, at least the corpse of the Redcap has gone, it’s lair torched, purged by fire.

“Find me, free me…”

They all hear the voice this time, a coarse whisper, it sounds like waves lapping on a far off shore.

They have a contingent of guards with them, for their own safety of course, twelve guardsmen, and all veterans by the look of them, led by a grouchy old Sergeant by the name of Casper.

“Time fur yew folk to head on down, I reckon.” Casper spits and nods towards the spot, a couple of guardsmen shuffle their weapons to make the point.

“In the tongue of the builders- Dwarves build, how about you try saying it in Dwarf?” Newt states.

And sure enough, thirty seconds later the Gang are descending, the entire raised dais is some sort of mechanical elevator.

It gets dark very quickly.

Sunrods flare.

They’re adventuring again.

The Gang emerge in a hallway; it stretches some twenty or so feet ahead, it’s about three feet deep in water, filthy water, which for Newt is a problem.

“Hey… Hey…” The Gnome doggie paddles trying to stay afloat, Bec scoops Newt up and settles him on his shoulders.
“Now that’s better… Gee up horsey.” Newt points the way, then readies his Potion of Spider Climb- just in case.
Bec stares up at the Gnome, grunts.

Cas leads them off.

There’s a door at the far end, a sealed stone door with runes etched across its surface. The centre of the seal is a 4-inch wide circular depression about an inch deep. On the southern wall, near the sealed portal, is another, more mundane looking doorway.

“The key must be in there.” Anya states and points to the mundane door.
“You hope.” Jim replies.
“Newt can you…” Cas starts, but the Gnome has already scoped the lock.
“Not a chance- we need the key.” The Gnome is carried over to take look at the mundane door, “no traps- over to you.”

“Ok, ready?” Cas asks.
The others nod 

And they’re in.

All along the perimeter of this rectangular room stand elaborately engraved pillars, a total of ten in all, casting bars of shadow across the far walls. In the centre of the room and protruding a foot or so above the brackish water is a dais upon which rests a rune-encrusted golden amulet, its centre accentuated by a large red gem.

“The key.” Newt whispers.

Looming over the dais and its treasure is a 10-foot tall metal statue. Crafted in the shape of a lion-headed humanoid, its body streaked red and brown with rust.

“That better not be…” Newt trails off.
“You can say that again.” Anya finishes.

“What?” Ala, Cas and Jim in chorus.

“An Iron Golem.” Anya and Newt answer back.

“What?” Ala, Cas and Jim back, still in chorus.

“This is getting stupid.” Anya breaks the chain. “I was saying that that thing better not be an Iron Golem.”
“Why- is that bad?” Jim asks.
“Yes, one of those things could easily kill us all, and our friends upstairs should it get out, and probably much of The Nunny, if it felt like it.” Anya glares at Jim, hands on her hips- lecturing him almost.
“Sorry for asking…”
“It can’t be though… can it?” Ala asks.

“We’re about to find out”, Cas swishes off through the water, towards the thing.

The others watch on.
“It’s probably just a statue.” Jim adds.

He’s nearly there, Newt remembers.

“Wait.” He kicks his heels into Bec’s chest, the Barbarian tramps forward. “Let me check it first- can’t do any harm.”
“Yes, stupid of me, sorry Newt.” Cas backs away a little.

The Rogue being manoeuvred, under instruction, by Bec, makes a tour of the dais, it takes a while.

“The entire thing is a trap.”
“Are you sure?” Cas counts his blessings.
“Certain of it.”
“What does it do… this trap?”
“Now that’s the mystery- I’ve no idea, nor do I know how to disarm it.”

Newt looks long and hard at the thing.

“But I do have a solution, of sorts… I’ll explain, Bec’s going to put me down here, I’ll dash up the dais, grab the amulet, dive into the water- submerge, then swim underwater to the door- easy.”
“Where are we going to be?” Anya asks.
“Well if I were you I’d be either out the room altogether or behind the pillars, you see I’ve no idea what’s going to happen.”
“You don’t have to do this Newt.” Cas offers.
“Oh I do, because if that thing starts moving”, Newt points at the Lion-headed Statue, “you’re not going to see me for dust, and I’d rather have the key in my hand.”

Cas thinks about it.

“Alright but let’s get ready, we may as well presume the worst, say that thing is an Iron Golem…”

A minute or so later and a number of spells have been cast, Anya’s Mage Armour shimmers and reflects the turgid water, likewise she feels a little healthier thanks to her Endurance spell. Ala meanwhile has acquired bulk in the form of muscle, courtesy of a Bull’s Strength spell. Newt has quaffed his Potion of Spider Climb and is set to go, floating in the water before the dais. Everyone except the Rogue has a magic weapon drawn, likewise everyone, except Newt, is hidden from sight- peeking out to spy on the brave, or maybe just foolhardy, Rogue.

“Ready?” Newt calls over.
“May Pelor…”
“And Correllon…”
“Bless you.” Cas and Ala finish.
“Fingers bloody crossed”, for good measure Anya sticks her fingers in her ears.
“Ready.” Jim finishes.

Bec nods, but by then it’s too late.

Next Turn: The Guardian.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 66: The Guardian.

A lot of things happen very quickly, here goes-

Newt leaps up the dais, actually lands on the top step right next to the amulet, he’s very good at jumping remember.

CLICK.

The Rogue hasn’t got time to look around to see where the sound is coming from, if he had to guess, he’d say from below him.

Newt scoops up the amulet.

GRIND.

Once again there’s no time to look around… but if he had to guess, he’d say the noise came from above him.

Newt leaps for the water.

Ting.

Like the sound of a small stone hitting something.

SPLASH

The Gnome is engulfed by the water.

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

Less than a second later the centre of the chamber is engulfed in a Fireball.

The flame is over in an instant.

Newt surfaces.

Smiling.

The door opens.

Cas fills the doorway smiling at the Gnome who’s holding aloft the amulet.

Then he looks behind Newt.

“NEEEEEEEEEWWWWWT.”

The Rogue doesn’t bother to look over his shoulder, the room shudders, a miniature tidal wave races in every direction, submerging him for a second.

“Aaaaaaarrrrggghhhh.”

The Gnome races out of the chamber, scrambling through the defenders and runs straight up onto the ceiling, clutching the amulet to his chest.

The Iron Golem lurches towards them, it’s very slow, rust flakes off of it as it comes.

“For Pelor.” Cas charges in.
“What?” Leaving Ala and the others standing in the door way.
“BUFFET.” Bec follows the Paladin in.
“Oh Correllon, this is madness- chaaaaaarge.” Ala heads on in.

Jim and Anya briefly reach out to each other, touch for a second, then the Ranger races in to face the metal monster.

Anya stays put, “Smidgin.” Two magic Missile arc out and thump into the Golem, both missiles clang into the creature, leave not a mark.

The adventurers fan out to meet the creature’s awkward charge; its weakness is definitely that it’s agonisingly slow.

Cas dodges in, strikes hard, not a scratch. Jim thumps his battleaxe into the Golem’s leg, nothing. Bec repeats the feat except on its other leg, three for three, the thing is unharmed.

“Oh sodding Pelor.” Cas remarks, looks at the useless magical longsword in his hands.

CLANG—TEEEEAAAAAAR.

Ala sees her opening, she’s made her way to the back of the creature, a perfect hit, her blade tears a gaping hole in the small of the Golem’s back.

“It can be damaged. It can…” Ala’s face is full of joy.

The thing turns to face her.

It lashes out, a sweeping blow, Ala ducks beneath the water then comes up gasping for air but unharmed.

“SMASH IT.”

Cas screams, and hits again- nothing. Ala dodges inside the Iron Golem’s reach, tries her luck again, not a mark. 

Jim… the same.

Bec… the same.

“What?” Cas screams runs at the creature and smashes the pommel of his sword into its leg, which doesn’t unsettle the thing in the least, it does however get the things attention.

The Iron Golem turns again, and the Paladin’s in much too close, Cas tries to back up but the water’s too deep, he can’t get out of the way.

CRUNCH

A metal fist smashes into his side, scoops him up, as if he weighed nothing, and flings him a good ten feet away. The Paladin lands with a splash and sinks beneath the waves.

Anya spins out of the room, hides behind the door.

“No, no, no, no this can’t be real.”

Newt meanwhile clambers along the ceiling back into the chamber; the amulet safely tucked away, his Adamantine dagger clutched in his hand.

Cas struggles to his feet, ribs broken, chest crushed, it hurts to breathe, he gasps for air.

“RUN. KEEP OUT OF ITS REACH.”

He takes charge, at the same time using his Divine Power to send a pulse of Healing energy through his body, which eases some of his pain.

“NEWT, GIVE THE KEY TO ANYA. ANYA OPEN THE DOOR.”

Newt does as he’s told, heads back and drops the amulet into Anya’s waiting hands; the Wizard scurries off to the door.

Ala, Jim and Bec are now in perpetual motion, circling, dodging in and out, trying to keep out of the Golem’s reach.

Jim unbalances for a second, almost sinks beneath the waves, he’s caught by a glancing blow, the Golem is wielding a huge scimitar, as well as punching with its off hand, the blow is more a clip than an actual hit, its enough to remind Jim to be more careful in future.

Mid-stride Bec feels something wet on his cheek, puts his hand up to discover it’s his blood, a cut on his temple- he doesn’t remember taking a hit.

“It’s opening.”

And sure enough, so it is- Anya rushes back to the chamber.

“IT’S OPEN. THE DOOR’S OPEN.”

Cas glugs down a Potion of Healing and rushes back towards the Golem.

Bec breaks off heads back to the door, out of the chamber, swapping from his magical dagger to his greatsword, mid flight. 

“COME ON.” Anya screams.

Newt doesn’t have to be told twice, he dodges through the newly opened doorway and into a hallway, yet again waist-deep in foul water. Part of the left wall and ceiling has collapsed, creating a sloping pile of rubble below a four-foot diameter hole. A trickle of water and sludge flows from out of the gap.

The way ahead is clear however.

Ala and Jim continue to circle the Golem, Ala has to take evasive action and is sent sprawling for a second, she quickly finds her feet.

“COME ON.”

Cas reaches the doorway screaming at Ala and Jim still in the chamber.

The pair back cautiously towards the doorway, then break and run, as best they can waist deep in water.

The Golem follows after them; it seems to go faster in a straight line, smashes the iron scimitar it wields in one hand down, just missing Jim’s head, the force of the blow splits the stone in one of the huge columns, wedging the sword in tight.

“Shouldn’t we go back?” Jim gabbles staring at the elevator.”
“No. ON.” Cas is definite, he points to the door.

Bec fills the doorway back into the chamber; the Golem is trying to wrench its weapon free, with little success.

SMASH

Bec’s greatsword lances out and rips a hole in the Golem’s torso, the Barbarian grins at the mess he’s wrought.

FWUNG

The Iron Golem’s scimitar is ripped free.

The new hallway ends at a wooden door adorned simply with a blue painted skull. At one time the door might have been solid, but exposure to water and dampness has rotted the wood. From behind the door Newt can hear a cacophony of whispers- or is it just the wind whistling?

“Fecking. Feck.”

The door is definitely trapped; the Gnome gets to work, conscious of the sounds of struggle coming from behind him.

“BEC.” Cas screams, the Barbarian hasn’t got time to turn around. “Hold it- if you can.”

The Barbarian grunts, then leaps forward into the chamber, aims an almighty blow at the Golem, he misses by a mile. The metal monster sees its opportunity and lumbers forward, miscalculates its own dimensions and slams into one of the pillars that dot the room; it crumples staggers and flounders. The Barbarian sees his opportunity lances his greatsword into the creature again, but leaves not a mark.

“FALL BACK.” Cas calls to Jim and Ala, who are still not out the room, they’re standing behind Bec, mimicking the Barbarians cuts and thrusts, fighting the fight for him.

“GET OUT OF THERE.” Cas commands, the pair scatter, rush after Anya who’s already caught up with Newt.

“Trap’s disarmed.” The Gnome grins, gets up and opens… oh hang on, “Bugger it’s locked.” The Gnome sets to work again.
“Come on Newt… Come on.” Anya worries.

Bec dives in again as the Golem tries to stand, this time gets it right, smashes his greatsword into the giant metal man’s knee joint, the monster stumbles again.

“Come on Newt.” Now it’s Jim’s turn.
“Just shut up.”
“Neeeewt?” Ala tries.
“That’s it.”

The Gnome grins and grabs the handle- no its not, the door’s still locked.

“Feck. Feck. Feck.” The Gnome’s new mantra, he sets to work again.

Jim rushes back to the doorway, so he can see Cas, gets there and shrugs at the Paladin, “LOCKED.” He screams.

“Oh Pelor.” Cas levers himself off the wall he’s been leaning on and thrashes the water to foam, charging back into the chamber, and the Iron Golem.

“BUFFET.” Cas screams. Bec echoes his sentiment. “BUFFET.”

Cas and Bec attack simultaneously, Cas’ longsword merely skims the surface, but Bec’s greatsword bites deep into the metal machine’s inner workings, a rusty chunk of iron falls from the creature’s shoulder and splashes into the water.

Once again the Golem staggers, but this time manages to haul itself upright in seconds.

“Got it.” Newt plasters on his smile again and yanks the door open.

It goes quiet for a moment.

“.” Ala stares.
“That’s just what I was going to say.” Newt confirms.

Anya stands there, mouth open.

“.” Ala says it again.

Newt shuts the door.

Next Turn: “There’s nothing else for it…”


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 67: “There’s nothing else for it…”

Jim rushes back into the flooded chamber, he’s not going to miss out on the fight, Ala too comes running back from the door.

“CAS.” She screams, but the Paladin seems to be otherwise engaged. “There’s nothing else for it…” She mutters and joins the melee, and miraculously lands a half-decent blow on the Iron Golem, slicing through the metal skin of the creature’s right fore-arm.

Alas it’s Bec who suffers for it; he’s caught by the creature’s flailing scimitar, a lucky blow, but enough to send the Barbarian crashing backwards.

However in the chaos he stabs back, it’s only a scratch but again the Golem staggers, it seems unable to turn now, to face those that are smashing at its rear.

Ala takes advantage of the situation, crashes her longsword into the creature, another cut in its metal skin, this time high up on the back of its right shoulder.

“BUFFET”

The Barbarian strides in again, and is swatted away in an instant, lands hard ten feet away, clearly no longer in charge of his limbs, he struggles to drag himself up and out of the water. When he does rise he’s woozy, bloodied and battered.

“Come on… We can do this.” Cas shouts, although his, and Jim’s, blows are having no discernable affect on the thing. 

Meanwhile back at the door…

Anya opens the door and steps through the portal, to be sure, she picks up a handful of something, and then steps back into the dungeon corridor, she motions, Newt holds out his hand, she fills it- with sand. 

Open-mouthed, still, Newt turns and marches back towards the sound of melee, Anya shuts the door, then follows on behind.

Bec’s not done through, he scrabbles in the water and grasps his greatsword, wades back in again, the creature it seems is waiting for his attack, ignoring the others.

Bec strikes, as does the Golem, the Barbarian’s sword hits first- opening up the Golem’s chest cavity, oil and gunk spill out, it makes a grinding sound it’s own attack stutters, falls well wide.


The Goodman Gang circle the creature, it must be close to destruction, and yet few, if any, of their blows have any impact on the staggering Golem, its own attack is useless, barely able to lift its scimitar.

Anya and Newt arrive in the doorway, actually Newt above Anya, he’s taken to the ceiling again.

“Right, that’s it- I’ve had enough of this.” The Rogue skitters along the ceiling of the chamber till his directly over the Golem, then launches himself down, grabs onto the things lion-head and holds on for dear life, perched on one shoulder.

The Golem flails wildly, but the Rogue grips on tight.

The rest of the gang take evasive action, which involves Cas running into Ala, flattening her, the pair sink beneath the waves- then come up spluttering.

Meanwhile Newt gets settled then stabs his Adamantine dagger down into the Golem’s head.

SCCCCCRRRREEEE.

The Iron Golem stiffens. 

And in a deep but slurred voice adds, “Does Not Compuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute.”

Then ceases working altogether.

_DMs Interlude- of course it wasn’t an Iron Golem, but who am I to spoil their fun. It was actually a Rusty Iron Construct HD 4d10+30 HP 52 and a DR of 10/Adamantine, with the Spell Resistances of an Iron Golem._

“Help me.” Bec staggers, he’s bleeding badly, Ala’s quickly on the spot. The Gang head out of the chamber, back to the lift to rest and recuperate.

“You’re not going to believe this…” Anya states.
“What?” Jim asks.
Anya and Newt shake their heads, to confirm that the other are not going to believe this.
“What’s down the passage? Why did you come back?” Cas asks.
“It’s best you come and take a look for yourselves.” Anya replies.
“What is it?” The Paladin whines.
“Come and see; it’s easier.” Newt finishes.

Minutes later they’re all stood before the door, Anya opens it.

Beyond is a desert.

You heard me.

A desert.

Miles and miles of sand dunes baking under a fiery sun, it goes on for…

Ever?

“It’s an illusion.” Cas starts.
“Nope.”

Newt wanders through the door, which is suspended, about six inches above the sand, there’s nothing behind it, apart from miles and miles of more desert. The Gnome grabs up a handful of sand, steps back through the portal and shows his companions.

Bec even tastes it.

It’s sand.

The shocked tableau remains in place for nearly a minute, Cas breaks the silence.

“Well, let’s have a look then.” The Paladin steps in, the others follow.

An hour later.

“It’s a desert alright.” Cas trudges back through the doorway.
“I want to go home.” Jim offers.
“Not a bad idea.” Cas concurs. “Right then back to see Major Khan I think.” Cas stomps back through the door and all the way out of the dungeon, the others close behind.

The Grimbo City Watch aren’t pleased to see them, but the feeling’s mutual, they decide not to press the point.

Cas reports to Sergeant Casper, doesn’t leave anything out- the Fireball, the Iron Golem and especially not the miles and miles of endless desert.

“Right, I’m off for a bath.” The Paladin states.

And with much harrumphing the Goodman Gang head back to the Inn, and clean sheets.

Next Turn: Khan again.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 68: Khan again.

“So what’s going on?” Jim asks, he’s wearing a loose fitting robe, smoking a pipe and wearing slippers, in fact all of the Gang are dressed for bed. Only Major Khan stands out in his dress uniform, complete with medals and decorations.
“It seems that the door you opened leads into an extra-dimensional plane of existence.”
Jim regrets asking the question, “A what?”
“Somewhere else.” Anya simplifies.
“Oh. Why didn’t he say that?” Jim points his pipe at Khan.
“Anyway we have ascertained that this desert is not endless, the exit is directly north of the entrance.” Khan continues.
“How far?” Cas asks.
“Ahh. Unknown, I’m afraid.”
“What’s on the other side?” Cas asks again.
“Now that we do know. First of all, the Undine, which you are of course tasked to destroy. Secondly an object of great Power, which I’m afraid is also cursed- needless to say you should leave it alone, in fact it is quite possible that the artefact, in the wrong hands, could prove to be as deadly as the Undine, you must leave it where it is. I guarantee upon your exit that more traps will be put in place so that no-one will ever go there again, we’ll seal the place for good, so that nothing gets out.” Khan finishes his speech, looks pleased with himself.
“Can’t you just do that now- save us having to destroy the Undine?” Anya asks.
“No, or at least not without getting the water out of the Dungeon, you see the Undine’s bindings were probably broken when the water got into the place, so while the place is flooded she may be able to escape- we have to be certain.”
“So you built the thing next to a sewer, smart.” Anya states.
“Yes, well… We don’t actually know how long this prison has been there, it’s a case of which came first, the sewer, or the prison. Regardless, we are prepared to double our offer- 2,000 gold coins; we will of course equip you as best we can for the desert, whatever you wish- within reason.”

The Goodman Gang consider their options.

“What do you say?” Major Khan leans in, his hands are shaking Ala notices, and yet he seems to be telling the truth.

“We’ll give you your answer in the morning.” Cas states.
“Oh now…”
“In the morning.”
“Very well.”

Major Khan bows low and then makes for the door, turns back, “I’d just like to say, on a personal level, how grateful I am, it’s clear to me that the City of Grimbo is a much safer place with you guys about- thank you.”

Then exits.

“Dick.” Jim hisses after Khan’s gone.

The Gang get on with their discussion.

Major Khan meanwhile heads out of the Inn and back into the shadows he came from.

Two days later.

In the desert.

The wind’s getting up, and the sand is getting everywhere.

“I’ve got sand in places I didn’t even know I had places.” Cas grins.
“Shut up.” Anya grumbles.
“I’m boiling.” Jim shouts in amazement- everyone ignores him.

At the back of the group Jim leads Shadrack, an ex-pit pony, lately put into service as a beast of burden, the creature’s mainly carrying water and food, but also all of the warrior’s heavy armour.

“How long have we been going now?” Newt shouts at Cas, he has to repeat himself because of the noise of the wind.
The Paladin shrugs, “about two hours.”
“Damn.”

The Gnome looks back; he can still see the door, just.

Anya shoves another marker in the sand, its flag flutters madly.

“How long more do you think?” Newt screams.
Cas shrugs again, “A couple of hours… We’ll see.”

The wind roars.

Ten hours later…

“I hate this… Bloody sand everywhere, it’s in my ears, my bloody ears. Look at this.” Newt flops off a boot, tips it out, it’s full of sand. “I hate the sand, I bloody hate it, it’s soo… Oh I just bloody hate it. And you… You said a couple of hours.” Newt stares at Cas.

The wind has dropped, not a breeze.

The Gang have stopped for the night, according to Cas, and his compass, they’re right on course. The Paladin looks back, he can see the last marker Anya placed, just- they’ve used two thirds of their total already; there can’t be much more of this he thinks.

Ala sidles over to him, whispers.

“Cas, I’ve only got three Endure Elements spells for tomorrow, who gets them?” She stares hard at her love.

Cas spits, his hands are cracked and dry, what he’d give for a dollop of the moisturising balm in the tub by his bed- his regime’s gone to pot.

“You, Anya and Newt.” The Paladin suddenly makes up his mind, then scrambles to his feet, “Right then, let’s put up the tents.”

The Goodman Gang wander over to Shadrack, Jim in charge of supplies suddenly has a thought, “What tents?” He squints at Cas framed by the sinking sun.

Newt turns away quickly; he doesn’t want them to see him cry.

It gets dark very quickly.

And cold.

A fairly uncomfortable eight hours later, the Gang are up and raring to go.

“That wasn’t too bad.” Jim leaps up and does a bunch of star jumps, gets the blood flowing. “Come on…” He cajoles- no takers.

After a rushed breakfast they’re on their way again, the first Endure Elements spells have ended, except for Newt, Anya and Ala who get new applications for the day, for Jim, Bec and Cas it’s all for real now.

Three hours later…

It’s above 90C, there’s still no shade, no sign of a door ahead, or behind for that matter, and no sign of their last marker.

Cas is a slick of sweat, staggering at times. Bec the same, the giant man cannot seem to keep the stinging sweat out of his eyes, he blinks furiously rubs the spot till its red raw. 

“What shape are we going to be in when we get there?” Anya asks Cas when they break from their trek for a moments rest.

Cas just stares at her, hands on his hips, breathing hard, between mouthfuls of warm and bitter tasting water, finally he just shakes his head.

Three hours later…

They stop again for a brief but fortifying meal, Jim insists on warm food, and plenty of it. Bec and Cas who are clearly feeling the heat are fortified, briefly- they trudge on.

Jim whistles as he walks, tickling Shadrack’s ear.

One hour later…

Cas stumbles, sprawls onto the baking sand, it’s nice here- rest now.

Jim is first to him, picks him up with Ala’s help- pushes a full canteen into the Paladin’s mouth, upends it for a while then uses the rest to cool the Paladin’s burning face. “Soak your clothes, keep them wet- there’s plenty of water, we’re not going to run out.”
Ala nods, “I have spells to conjure water- use as much as you need, come on Cas, not much further.”

“I’ll tell you what though.” Jim calls from the back, when they’re on the move again, “its baking isn’t it.” The Ranger wipes his brow, pats Shadrack’s flank, and hums a pleasant tune.

Two hours later…

Cas is staggering again, an official rest break is called for.

“Ok, that’s enough, we’ll have something more to eat, then we can make up our minds if we want to go on or not- maybe just for a couple of hours. Let’s get a fire started. Get some warm food in you; it’s going to get cold tonight…” Jim starts.
“Especially with no tents.” Ala adds.
“Ok. Ok, my bad- let’s get Cas settled for a bit.”

Bec sinks to his knees, wobbles, even though the temperature is dropping, the sun is heading down below the horizon, he can see two of things- two Jim’s, two Anya’s, in fact two of everything. He keeps quiet, drinks two whole canteens of water, then upends a third over him, soaks himself thoroughly- feels a little better for it.

An hour later…

“Are you sure you’re ok to carry on?” Ala stares at Cas.
“Yes.” The Paladin manages and then clambers to his feet.

It’s a lot cooler now, the sun is setting fast, there’s still enough light to see the compass and the miles and miles of desert ahead of them.

“How long more do you think?” Cas whispers when Jim comes close.
“Dunno, lovely sunset though.” The Ranger stops to stare, the Paladin plods on.

Two hours later…

“Pelor’s fishcake, trilobites nibbling on my trousers. I am the Walrus, THE WALRUS… ALA. ALA. ALA I CAN’T SEE YOU. Mew. Rue. Dooooooo…” Cas gasps for breath.
“Hold him down.” Ala instructs.
“Sun stroke.” Jim confirms.
“We’re not going any further.” Ala states.
“Get a fire lit, all the water you can, and blankets.” Jim shouts at Anya and Newt, they comply.

“Crab apple sun stroke, moke, broke, toke… joke… poke.” Cas rambles.

Bec crumples, there’s… a lot of everybody… and things… everythings… a lot of it… joining up all the time… blurry. Bec slips into unconsciousness; it seems infinitely more pleasant than his present surroundings, “Sand… wich.” His last word, or words.

Next Turn: Oh Sandy.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 69: Oh Sandy.

Thirty minutes later Cas and Bec are a little more comfortable, the sun has almost disappeared over the horizon.

“It’s going to get cold tonight, I suggest we huddle together people.” Jim states.

Suddenly Shadrack starts to bray, the pony shuffles and stomps till Jim lays a calming hand on the beast. “What is it Shadrack?”
“There.” Newt points, Jim strains to see, as does Anya, Ala however spots it straight away.
“What is it?” Jim asks.
“Beetle?” Ala guesses.

“Missile weapons.” Jim orders, the four still upright and able get ready.

Zwooom

Bows and Crossbows sing out, but the big black Beetle, background the darkening desert, is difficult to spot, and particularly at range.

“Wait till it gets closer.” Jim shouts.
“Not too close.” Newt chides.

The ad hoc barrage continues- all to no affect.

It’s not until the Beetle is within fifty feet that Jim can actually pick it out against the black. The Ranger’s next shot smashes into the thing, puncturing its carapace and sending out a mini-eruption of yellow ichor.

The Beetle stops.

“Is it dead?” Newt wonders.

The Beetle gets going again, heading straight for them.

ZWOOMCRUNCH.

Jim’s on the mark again, barely breaking stride the creature turns hard right and heads off as fast as its little legs can carry it.

“Leave it, that’s the last we’ve seen of him. Double watches tonight.”

The Goodman Gang get some well earned rest.

Then, in a blink of an eye, the sun comes up…

However it seems Cas, and in particular Bec, are far from well- they’ve pushed themselves too hard, the pair are suffering from sun stroke still, with a touch of hypothermia, the nights are very cold, particularly when you don’t have tents.

“We rest today.” Jim decides, “keep watch, we’ll head off again when the sun goes down, travel at night, when it’s cooler.”
Cas nods, Bec lies on his side, ragged breaths, shivering uncontrollably.
“Look after them.” Jim looks at Ala, she nods.

Twelve hours later…

The suns on the way back down, it’s getting cooler, and Bec and Cas are in much better shape.

“Thanks Jim.” Cas looks up and sips the remains of his tea.
Bec nods in the Ranger’s direction.
“Perhaps it’s best if Jim takes charge for a while?” Anya asks.
The Ranger likes the sound of that, he smiles.
“I thought he was in charge.” Ala states.
Cas sees the funny side, smirks.

A little while later they’re on the move again.

Three hours later…

Bec’s head hangs low, the Paladin is back to shuffling along, it seems their new found energy has been spent already.

One hour later…

The Paladin collapses, slumps to the floor, his mouth, ears, eyes and nose clogged with sand.

“You go on…” He manages, “leave me here.”
“Shut up.” Jim hefts the Paladin over his shoulder; Cas finds enough energy to cling on.

They trudge on for another hour...

Then another rest break, more water, hot food, thirty minutes rest.

And then Cas’ is hoisted up again, the Ranger whistles a happy tune as he adjusts his load, and then heads of into the near-dark.

Bec drifts backwards, eventually settles for trudging beside Shadrack, his giant hand on the ponies saddle, he can’t see very much. 

One hour later…

The sun peeks over the horizon.

They stumble on.

One hour later…

And in the glare of first light they can see it, or at least Newt and Ala can.

“It’s a door.” Newt points and grins.
“Where?” Jim squints.
“There”, Ala points too, she giggles a little, “by that dune, to the right.”

Jim can’t see anything, he can barely make out the sand dune Ala’s referring to, it all looks the same… hang on, perhaps there is just the smallest speck of black out there.

“One last push, we’re nearly there.” The Ranger leads them off again.

One hour later…

The door is a door, the same as the other, except closed, it’s about two hundred yards away, next to a sand dune, like Ala said, although most things are next to a sand dune out here.

“Wahey.” Newt frolics, pirouettes, jogs forward ahead of the pack, heading straight for the portal. Behind him the others grin.

“It’s the same as the other one.” Newt calls back and pulls up short, walks over to the portal, touches it to make sure that it’s real. At the same instant the sand dune to the left erupts and the Beetle, still bearing testimony to Jim’s arrows, leaps forward- it’s enormous up close.

A jet black shinning carapace, and huge clacking jaws, it’s probably eight feet long, it grabs at the Gnome, its pincers meet and crush the Rogue.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrggghhh Bastard.” Newt summons the last of his strength and leaps, nay bounds, out of the things grasp, lands a good fifteen feet away and topples over in a crumpled heap.

“Let me go.” Cas shouts in Jim’s ear. “I’ll save him…” Jim does as he’s told, the Paladin staggers three feet then collapses, struggles, but cannot make sense of his surroundings, he lies on the floor clawing at the baking sand, he’s going nowhere.

The Beetle shuffles towards the fallen Gnome, who manages to right himself, comes up, woozy and staggering but weapon in hand.

The others come charging over, Bec is really struggling, stumbling, it’s Jim once again who leads the way. 

They’re not going to get to Newt in time.

The Beetle suddenly changes direction, turns about face in front of Newt, who sees his opportunity and slashes hard at the thing taking another slice out of its carapace.

The Beetle stops, shudders, its rear end is now pointing directly at Newt, the Gnome shrugs and looks generally confused.

FSSSSSSSSSSSSSSST.

A spray half-fog, half-liquid erupts from the Beetle’s backside, engulfs Newt, its acid, Newt thinks- its acid, and then, I can’t be bothered with this, and thumps to the ground, unconscious.

A glowing longsword appears in the air by the Beetle, slashes down and interrupts the acid’s flow; Ala’s Spiritual Weapon keeps the Beetle at bay, away from the fallen Gnome.

“Smidgin”, a pair of Magic Missiles streak in, smash into its carapace, leave gaping holes in their wake.

The creature, squats, sinks then shudders- no more.

Jim and Ala catch up with Newt, the Ranger grabs hold of the little feller as Ala brings her healing powers into play.

CRUNCH

The dead Beetle’s carapace, or rather what’s left of it, explodes- guck and splodge shoot out.

And from the wreck spill a million tiny little Beetles, a swarm- Newt’s too close, the black mass heads over to investigate the smell of fresh blood.

Jim quickly drags the Gnome back and away, Ala sends her Spiritual Weapon in to slow them down- it has no real effect, there are far too many of the tiny Beetles.

“Flame ON.” Anya steps into the swarm’s path.

And again, “FLAME ON”, this time through gritted teeth and they’re as good as gone, the few unscorched Beetles scuttle off to find something less capable to menace.

Ten minutes later, with Newt back up and fairly healthy, and having declared the portal free of traps, and unlocked no less, the sad and sorry four-some, dragging the sun-stroked and exhausted two-some, step into a corridor- much like the one they left, except without the noisome water, Shadrack follows them through.

A door ahead is eagerly ignored, they slump down to rest, even Shadrack is made to lie down in the cramped space, fed, watered, and pampered by Jim.

A sketchy watch rota is drawn up and soon enough they’re all asleep.

Yes, all of them.

Next Turn: Power Extreme.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 70: Power Extreme.

Morning has broken, or rather the Goodman Gang start to wake, they’re all present and correct… except for Jim and Shadrack, the pony.

The portal opens and Jim files in leading Shadrack behind him.

“Where have you been?” Anya asks.
“Call of nature, for both of us.” Jim eyes Shadrack.

An hour or so later, after ablutions and breakfast, the Gang break camp and ready themselves for adventure again. Jim tether’s Shadrack to the door, says goodbye to his new found friend.

Cas and Bec are a little under the weather still but much better than they were in the desert.

They move on in- through the door, after Newt gives it the once over, another corridor, a t-junction- door left, door right- nothing to choose between the two.

“Right, I think.” Cas states and motions for Newt to oblige.
“You’ve no idea where you’re going have you Lord?” Newt replies.
“No, but the trick is to sound confident.” Cas winks at the Gnome who gets to work.

Door checked, Cas opens it and leads the adventurers on.

A fine layer of dust covers the floor of the corridor ahead, a set of five steps leads down. The air smells as if it has been trapped in here for years- stale, almost rotten. Obviously no one has disturbed the passageway for some time, centuries probably. Through the dust and past an emaciated corpse stretched prone on the floor, the corridor ends at a door. There’s a carving above the lintel, strange runes surrounding a bright yellow gem embedded in the stonework.

“Newt, if you would- give the place the once over.”

The Gnome skitters down the stairs, cautiously scans the floor and inches ahead till he’s to the corpse.

“What is it?” Ala shouts.
“A dead guy.” Newt proclaims and carefully steps around the dead guy.

The Gnome makes it all the way to the other end of the corridor, no traps up to here.

The others follow on- Ala bends to examine the corpse, “desiccated- almost mummified, without the wrappings of course, odd.”

“Anya can I get a hand.” Newt winks at the Mage, “only I’m out of Potions of Spider Climb.”
“It just so happens.” The Wizard grins and thirty seconds later Newt is above the door and examining, without touching, the gemstone and runes there, the later he cannot read, however, “There’s a trap- it’s the gem stone, don’t approach it, stay where you are. I think…” he tails of and rifles through his backpack, “here it is”, he pulls out a Tanglefoot Bag.

Newt hangs on, looks around, then down at his companions, eventually climbs down the wall and heads over to Cas.

“Can I borrow your shield Lord?”
“Borrow?”
“Err… Yeah.”
“I suppose, what do you…” But the Rogue is gone, back up the wall, and to the gemstone, with Cas’ shield in tow.

“Ready?” Newt calls down.
“Yes.” Cas thinks about it. “For what exactly?”
“Dunno.”

SPLODGE

Newt slaps the Tanglefoot Bag onto the Gemstone, it covers it instantly in a mass of goo.

SQUELCH

He thumps Cas’ shield into the goo, forming a makeshift barrier which totally covers the Gem.

The Gemstone pulses, the goo hardens in an instant, it steams slightly as almost all of the moisture in it evaporates.

“Damn.” Newt curses and juggles out a small pry-bar.

“Cas.” Ala shouts, behind them the desiccated being is getting up, the Paladin swings into action, slashes wildly with his longsword and slices the Zombie’s right arm off- shame really, he was using that, the Zombie falls back down.

The Gemstone pulses again, the Tanglefoot goo hardens to rock, crumbles, the shield detaches and falls, clatters onto the stone floor, then the goo, now nothing more than dust, falls away. Newt jams his pry-bar in.

SPONG

And levers out the Gem, catches it with the same hand, “Mine”, and tucks it away for safe keeping.

“Down.” Cas smashes the Zombie again, decapitating it.

Newt jumps down from the wall, “easy when you know how.” He grins.
“The door if you please.” Jim indicates the door ahead; after all he’s now officially second in command here.

A minute or two later.

“That’s odd- no traps”, Newt looks up, “I guess we already fixed it.”

Cas opens the door and leads them on.

The door opens into a circular room twenty-five feet in diameter and features a domed ceiling. The dome is covered with murals of an ocean filled with various aquatic creatures; all emaciated and withered, in the midst of violent death throes.

In the middle of the room is a large fountain. The gurgling water is so clear, so refreshing and so pure in appearance that it draws the adventurers in.

How cool it would taste, Cas thinks, “We can refill our bottles here”, the Paladin approaches.
“Leave IT.” It’s Ala and it’s a command.

The Priestess of Correllon marches over to the Paladin, grabs him by the hand, “don’t trust this place- there’ll be something wrong with it, I have spells remember- I will provide.” She winks, stands on tip-toes and in a public show of affection kisses the Paladin on the cheek.

Which breaks the spell.

“Right you are, I mean… Yes Ma’am.”
“Oh get a room.” Newt strolls past the fountain, there’s yet another door on the opposite side of the chamber, he gets to work.

“Not locked, not trapped. It’s a doddle this place.” Newt waves the Paladin by, Cas leads them on.

Into a small, dark six-sided chamber, it feels claustrophobic, oppressive. A dais opposite the door holds a chest, but what gets their attention is the large, red mass of coral that is suspended from the ceiling at shoulder height by chains. The coral is etched with runes and strange symbols, there appears to be a recess atop the object. A great and terrible power seems to emanate from this relic.

The Gang stand there for a moment, struck dumb, the sounds of waves crashing against a rocky shore fills their ears.

Jim comes out of the trance first, “traps?”

Newt sets to work, he takes his time.

“Why aren’t we taking this again?” Anya asks.
“Because we were told not to.” Cas replies.
“But why- what harm could it do, it might even help us.” 
“To do what?”

Anya stares at the Artefact, “I don’t know but… It’s very tempting.”
“Is it?” Cas looks at the faces of his companions- Ala shakes her head, Jim shrugs, Bec’s not listening, Newt turns to face him- shakes his head, “looks dangerous- leave it.”
“It’s only you that thinks that Anya.”

Anya looks back at the thing. “Aren’t you in the least bit… interested.”
“Nope.” The Paladin shakes his head.
“So you trust Khan?”
“I didn’t say that, I’m just more concerned that we’re wasting our time here when we should be getting on with the job in hand.”
“Bloody Paladin.” Anya sighs then smiles, at least he can be relied upon, that’s more than most men, she thinks.

“Nothing.” Newt wanders back to the crowd.
“Are you sure?” Jim asks.
“Yes… That is, oh hang on- I’ll keep looking.”

Newt wanders back to give the place the once over, again. The Goodman Gang listen to the pleasant sound of the waves, drift off or about, check this and that on their equipment, bite their nails, and hum unknown ditties.

The Gnome tromps back, “Nothing- I can’t find anything, no traps, no… nothing.”

Newt leads Bec in, around the coral artefact, to the chest- the Barbarian picks up the box, and is lead back out again.

“That’s that- we’ll have a look in the chest back at the t-junction.” Cas leads them out.
“You’re not even mildly curious.” Anya states, and stamps her foot a little.
“No, now come on- we’ve got bigger fish to fry.” Cas holds the door open, mainly to make sure that Anya leaves.

Back at the t-junction the chest is opened, the contents removed, a Detect Magic spell from Ala helps to quantify their find- there’s a nice belt, a necklace, a pearl, and a horn (for blowing), the last two detect as magical; the first two are appraised as valuable, the necklace made of small pink pearls is very valuable indeed, according to Newt.

“Right then, let’s try the other door.” Cas states.
“I told you that you didn’t know where you were going.” Newt replies.
“On the contrary we have emerged unharmed and laden with treasure; surely you Newt can see the benefit of that.”
“Got me there- lead on Lord, and I shall follow.”

Cas indicates the door, the Gnome obliges, and they’re soon through, the corridor ahead mirrors the last, in dimensions only though, this time the stairs lead down into three feet of filthy water. The door at the end of the chamber is still there however the gemstone and the runes are gone, also there’s a second door on the right-hand wall about halfway down the passage.

Newt makes for higher ground, scrambles up the wall and heads off to see what he can spy.

A moment later his voice rings back, “it’s safe up to the door, which isn’t trapped and doesn’t appear to be locked.”

Cas and the others wade over to the right-hand door, the Paladin opens the way.

It opens into a circular chamber some twenty feet in diameter. Frescoes upon the walls depict torture and death in gruesome detail. A section of the wall to the left has partially collapsed, and sewage stained water seeps through in a foul stream to add to the muck through which the adventurers have been striding. The smell of waste is thick and heavy causing Cas to gag reflexively.

“Pelor help me.” Cas wipes his mouth, wades in, Newt scurries after the Paladin, talking the high road, still firmly attached to the wall, Anya strides in next.

WHOOOSHCLANG.

The door slams shut.

The water explodes upwards, drenching everything and everyone in the chamber; Newt scrambles for purchase for a second, then hangs on. The sunrod gutters and flares, then springs back into life- its cold glow encompasses the room.

The water churns and froths.

“What the…” Anya begins.
“Er… Help.” Cas tries.

Next Turn: In a spin.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 71: In a spin.

“What’s going on… What’s…” The Wizard quickly wades towards the door. The water continues to boil, Cas looks around him, a ivory white skull begins to rise from the water, it’s attached to the rest of the Skeleton, the Paladin smashes it down in an instant.

“Get that door open.” Cas screams.
“There’s something holding it shut.” Anya screams, it’s getting noisy in here.

On the other side of the door Bec rips his fingernails out trying to pry the thing open, Jim on his knees, head just above the water- working on the bottom of the door, trying to get his dagger into the gap.

“Open it.” Ala shouts.
“We’re trying.” Jim states, frustrated.

Suddenly a crack appears, the doors opening, Bec wedges his fingers in the gap- heaves at it, Jim does the same, and yet the door only opens a few inches.

Anya’s at the gap, “get it open.”

“Cas.” Newt shouts and points.

The Paladin spins round as two forms rise up from the water, vaguely humanoid in shape, for water they look pretty solid, instinctively Cas slashes at the first, the water creature swirls and at the last moment dodges aside. 

Anya turns back, takes it all in, presses her mouth to the gap, “open it Bec, open it Jim. Quickly. Please.”

Newt grabs for his crossbow, nearly spills the thing, juggles it into his hands.

A fist of water lurches upwards out of the turgid slop their standing in, looks about for a moment- or so it seems, then pounds down hard towards Cas, the Paladin shifts his weight and dodges the blow- the Elemental, in no hurry, disappears beneath the waves.

Anya mumbles arcane words, her Mage Armour takes affect.

Bec and Jim continue to strain at the door; it opens another inch, no more. “Open it.” Ala screams, which does nothing more than further frustrate the straining pair.

Cas lashes out at an Elemental, seems to hit, a gash appears in the watery humanoids side. The second Elememtal dissipates before it can attack, sinks beneath the waves.

Fwung.

Newt’s bolt passes through the water creature but leaves no mark in its passing.

The second Elemental suddenly appears, in wave form, rolls around the edge of the chamber, gathering momentum, then smashes hard into Anya, sending the Wizard crashing into the door, for a second she sees stars, then water streams in as she sinks, coughing and spluttering, seconds later, she heaves herself up, and before her stands a nine foot tall Water Elemental in all its glory.

“You BASTARD.” She smashes at the creature with her staff, punches a hole right through the thing, the creature makes a sound, possibly the Aquan version of laughter, that or someone farting in the bath.

Newt, desperate, fiddles another bolt into place.

FWUNG

This one seems to have an affect, slices into the side of the creature menacing Anya, drills a bore hole all the way through the Elemental. It doesn’t flinch, instead grows steadily taller, piling wave upon wave, then topples, crashes down on a screaming Anya smashing the Wizard, like flotsam against a rocky shore.

It dissipates.

On the surface of the water Anya’s unconscious, or dead, form floats.

The other Water Elemental instantly explodes to the surface; sending crashing waves in every direction, spraying stinging water everywhere within the chamber, Cas and Newt quickly reassess their footing as they’re buffeted and bashed.

The Elemental sinks again beneath the waves.

It seems their toying with the Goodman Gang.

The water continues to bubble and froth.

Then, finally, the door is wrenched open, and Ala rushes in, only to be suddenly blocked as one of the Elemental springs up to intercept her passage, she slices wildly with her longsword, taking a liquid gout out of the creature. The Elemental forms two liquid fists, wails on the Priestess, who dodges then defects both of its blows.

Cas scrambles for Anya, then notices that the water in the chamber is beginning to circle, the Wizard’s body drifts away from him as the water increases in speed, a vortex begins to form in the centre of the chamber.

“WHIRLPOOL” Cas screams, then “GET ANYA”, his words directed at anyone who will listen.

Jim’s listening, the Ranger rocks back and then barges into the chamber, bull-rushing through, almost, the Water Elemental blocking the doorway, he flings himself into the water, hands flailing trying to grab hold of Anya- he misses as the Wizard slips from his grasp and continues to spiral into the mix.

Bec and Ala are still stuck in the doorway, unable to pass the Elemental that pounds at them there, Cas has an idea, the Paladin fights the Whirlpools drag and wades over to the water creature blocking the door, swings his longsword low and cuts clean through the base of the Elemental, which cut off from its source, even for just a second, instantly dissipates- actually explodes like horizontal rain.

“Come in if you’re coming.” Cas screams.

Bec dashes straight in and throws himself into the spin, the Barbarian grabs at Anya, heaves the Wizard to him and holds her head above the water, however he’s floating free heading for the centre of the maelstrom. Cas grabs at Jim, Jim grabs at the door, braces himself somehow- the Paladin reaches out, and on the next turn snags the Barbarian.

Ala and Newt, suddenly scream and point but their words are lost in the noise of the storm, the human chain turns to see the second Water Elemental reforming.

The speed of the Whirlpool increases.

“Pull her in. Pull her in.” Jim screams.

Jim strains, Cas strains, Bec strains, and Anya is hauled back in, just in time as the second water Elemental slams into the side of the chain, and in particular Cas, who is dragged and buffeted, twisted by the force of the wave, and yet he grips tight through the surge.

Ala leans in as Anya is drawn towards her, she touches the Wizard and her healing energies course into her, Anya coughs, chokes and splutters and comes alive in an instant.

Jim continues to pull, Cas does likewise, and Bec is dragged steadily out of the Whirlpool, the chain breaks up as the warriors inch out of the storm.

“Clear out.” Cas calls, the entire Gang head out of the chamber and into the passageway beyond. The Whirlpool in the centre of the chamber seems to lose its intensity, begins to slow and swirl back on itself.

Anya staggers away, as far as she can get, pulls out and downs a healing potion as she stumbles up the stairs and out of the water.

WHOOOSH

A Water Elemental forms with lightning speed in the doorway, cranes out of the chamber, looks, or rather senses left and right and then strides out into the passageway.

Bec and Jim are one side of the creature, Cas, Newt and Ala the other- the Goodman Gang attack en masse, but their blows seem not to bother the creature, the Elemental forms a tight fist and pummels the Paladin, almost sending Cas sprawling.

However he’s far from done with the creature, he slices again, aiming low, trying to cut the thing off from its source again, his blade bites deep, clearly wounding the creature but not enough to cut all the way through.

The second Elemental takes shape in the chamber, spies the open door and surges, like a tidal wave out into the passageway. At the same instant the first Elemental steps back to dodge a blow from Jim.

The two Elementals collide, sending mini tidal waves crashing out from the epicentre, but staggering both of the creatures.

“O Correllon Bless us in our hour of need.” Ala whispers, her spell buoys her companions, even if only for a moment.

Jim steps into the wreck of the two Elementals and swings hard, smashing the first of the creatures to emerge from the chamber in twain, the two halves fall away- the creature is no more.

“Smidgin.” Almost an afterthought, two Magic Missiles thump into the one Elemental left standing, a moment later Bec finds his range, repeats Jim’s feat and cleaves the watery devil cleanly in two- it spills back into the sloping drench.

And that’s it- they’re gone.

The silence returns, just the drip of water, and the ragged breaths of the adventurers.

DMs Interlude- in the version of this scenario for 4th level characters the Water Elemental was supposed to Large in size, however I surmised that this would prove too greater threat for the PCs, instead I opted for two Medium Water Elementals, I wanted to give the Goodman Gang a sporting chance.

“Anya, rest- Jim, Bec come with me.” The Paladin ducks back into the chamber, a sunrod flares.
“Oh yes Mr. Paladin sir.” Anya tucks her legs under her, sodden, miserable and dirty- she sulks a little.

Bec wedges the door open, jams a dagger into the hinges- it can’t close.

The three examine the frescoes painted on the walls, they clearly depict the fate of any that would seek to free the Undine from her captivity- the rescuers depicted are forced to suffer the tortures of Hell.

Jim gulps.

“We’re not here to free her, we’re here to kill her.” Cas simply states.
Jim mulls the suggestion over- “What’s she done to deserve that?”
“That’s a good question.” Cas tells them the story he has been told by Major Khan, about a swathe of destruction should she escape her prison, it doesn’t take long.
“And you believe him?” Ala pokes her head into the chamber.
“Maybe we should ask her.” Jim states.

The Paladin looks around his companions, “I’m ok with that, should the opportunity arise.”

Agreed they head off, Newt moves forward to check the way is clear.

Next Turn: The Tomb.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 72: The Tomb.

Anya staggers into the frescoed watery chamber and makes her own inspection. 

“All clear.” Newt calls back.

Then steps back from the door ahead.

WHHHHOOOOOOMSPLASH

A stone the size of the Gnome drops from the ceiling, followed by another and then another, all into the space the Rogue so recently occupied, almost blocking the passage to the portal.

“What did you say?” Cas shouts back.
“I said its all clear.” The Gnome looks over his shoulder grinning.

“These frescoes are a little more complicated than you think; I’ll need a moment to translate them properly.” Anya steps out of the chamber, spots the blocked passage and heads back in, “give me a shout when you’re done.”

Bec, Jim, Ala and Cas get to work, clearing the way.

It takes over an hour to clear the passage, which coincides with Anya finally finishing her translation.

“So, it seems that were going straight to Hell if we free her, if she’s already up and about then we should either put her back in her prison, or if not- slay her. They’re not very complementary about her, whoever made the frescoes were clearly terrified of the Undine.”
“Who made the frescoes?” Cas asks.
“I’m not sure, my best guess is whatever passed for the Grimbo City Council way back when- maybe a thousand years ago.

“So if she’s out we kill her, or put her back in. I just want to get it clear in my head.” Jim asks.
“That seems to be the case.” Anya replies. 

“Path clear.” Bec grunts.

Newt still grinning swims to the door and checks it again for traps, his Spider Climbing spell is over.

“Nothing. Really.” He grins. Cas opens the door.

The room revealed is circular in shape, a crumbling and rat infested chamber. The iron-barred door and the cold brick walls give the place the air of some hideous dungeon cell from a nightmare. The chamber is streaming with dampness and poisonous with stench, due perhaps to the corrupting influence of the filthy water lapping at the adventurers legs. A statue of a sea captain stands at the opposite end of the room, the figure proud and defiant, with several Aquatic Elves cowed at his feet. Lying in the centre of the room is a sarcophagus, its heavy stone lid dust-laden and apparently untouched.

Suddenly Cas feels a cold breeze, like someone- or something passing by him, he senses the presence of some intangible evil.

“She’s here.” The Paladin states, and wades in.

Cautiously the others follow.

“Captain Horimus Drake- I read about him, at school- he ruled here, in Grimbo, with an iron fist. I know he fought a lot of battles, I didn’t know he fought the Aquatic Elves, I guess he did by the look of the statue.” Cas finishes.
“Did he make this?” Jim asks.
“He was about at the time, I think.” Cas tries to remember back to his schooldays.

Newt swims about, prodding and poking, he smells a rat.

“Hey, secret door- this isn’t the tomb.” He calls back.
“How do we know for certain?” Cas replies, he can still feel the presence of Evil in the chamber.

ERRRRRSPLOOOOOSH

Bec levers the lid of the sarcophagi, which ends the debate.

The rest of the Gang immediately adopt combat crouches, ready for an attack that doesn’t come.

There’s a Skeleton inside the sarcophagi, unmoving. Cas eventually wanders over, the sense of Evil is emanating from the corpse, he prods the bones- nothing stirs.

“Ok, you’re right- get the door open Newt.” Cas confirms.

Newt swims over, scours the inside of the sarcophagi, a mass of shell jewellery nothing at all of any value, he scoops it all into a bag, because that’s what he does.

A minute or so later and the secret door is open, Cas leads them through.

Ahead a long narrow hallway which stretches off into darkness and shadow, the Gang edge their way forward, Newt still has to swim.

Half way down the hall, where it curves to head east, is a font built waist high into the wall. At the point of the curve, on the left, the tunnel wall bristles with rusted iron spikes. A lone skeleton dangles from the spikes like some sort of macabre hunting trophy. 

Newt checks the way ahead, “Clear, it’s already been triggered.” The little Gnome swims on.
“She’s already been disturbed then.” Anya states.
“Maybe… We’ll see.” Cas heads on around the corner.

“Newt.” Anya calls, “come back here.” The Gnome swims back to the Wizard who pulls out a scroll, “I was saving this one for me”, she mutters arcane words and once again the Gnome takes to the walls, he’s back Spider Climbing.

And just in time, “There…” Newt screams and points.

A wave of filthy rats, over a dozen of the large vermin, are heading down the passage at speed towards the Goodman Gang.

“Back to the room. Back to the room.” The Paladin hollers and thrashes the water to foam.

Newt skitters back, still high on the wall, almost at times above the mass, fires crossbow bolt after crossbow bolt into the squeaking filthy bodies of the rats.

The creature’s follow the adventurers all the way back to the false tomb, the warriors leap in- Bec is a wild man, a threshing machine- one, two, three, four of the creatures meet their end on his blade.

Cas takes a bite to the hand, no more than a scratch, manages to stab the creature dead in retaliation.

And yet there are still almost a dozen of the rats left.

FWUNG

Newt’s crossbow sings, a rat is no more, Bec is hit by a pocket of the vermin, can’t get away, stumbles, his greatsword goes astray, the Barbarian unintentionally connects with Cas, leaves a mighty gash down the Paladin’s arm.

Ala and Jim leap in, slashing and slicing, another two of the rats come to bloody ends.

Cas meanwhile is caught in the storm, as the Barbarian flails and sinks beneath the water, the rats attacking him move instead to savage the Paladin, he’s bitten at least four times in the chaos.

FWUNG

Newt takes care of another. Ala grabs at Cas, pumps healing into her man- dragging the swatting Paladin away from the centre of the melee.

“I HATE RATSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.”

Bec rises, like a monster from the depths, sword in hand he creates a whirlpool of death- swings and spins, swings and spins and in moments over half-a-dozen of the creatures lie dead, floating lifeless in the water.

The swarm is gone, stragglers paddle furiously away from the scene of destruction.

“Drink.” The Barbarian shoves a Healing Potion at the Paladin, who’s still clearly wounded; Cas nods and drains the vial.

“Rest. For a moment.” The Paladin breaths hard, leans on the sarcophagi. The others congregate, while Jim keeps an eye on the door and the passageway beyond.

“We need a plan.” The Paladin states, “for when we meet her.”
“You reckon she’s awake?” Jim asks.
“Yes, definite.” Cas looks stern.

Five minutes latter the Gang head off down the passage- Jim and Bec are in the front line, with missile weapons at the ready, Newt shadows the pair, clinging to the wall, his crossbow at the ready.

They round the corner, move on down- towards the chamber ahead, there are lights ahead- Ala brushes against Cas, her Aid spell instantly takes affect, and all without him knowing.

A wave of water suddenly surges up, pulses and rushes headlong down the passage, too quick for the Gang to get out of its way.

“BRACE.” Cas screams.

The wave smashes into the front rank- Jim, Bec and to a lesser extent, Newt, they bear the brunt of its power.

The trio ride the crest of the wave, come down again five feet further back, more or less uninjured.

“Weeeeeeee.” Jim offers.
Cas gives the Ranger a dirty look, then points the way ahead.

Jim and Bec double time forward, the others follow on wading behind, and into the entrance way to the chamber ahead.

Pillars wreathed in a dancing yellow flame support the ceiling. The surface of the water casts an infernal glow as it reflects this mysterious light. In the centre of the room lies a sarcophagus, its interior lined with sand, its glass lid cast aside. Water has seeped in, soaking the sand and filling the sarcophagus with murky water. 

To the rear of the room, a short flight of stairs climbs to a raised dais and a pool of crystalline water. The walls are mirrored, reflecting the image of the water down onto the lower portions of the chamber.

Wading through the dingy water behind the sarcophagi, pacing like a caged tiger, is a astonishingly beautiful woman. She appears to be Elven, but her skin is slick and moist and tinged a bluish-green. Her hair, pulled back from her face by an embroidered cap, is a vibrant green and glistens like the sun reflected in a placid pool. She looks young, but not innocent. Her cat eyes are far from innocent. Her eyebrow rises as she takes note of the Gang. She seems so calm.

“Are you…” Jim starts up.
“I’m pleased to see that dry-skins are still as foolish as they were in my day,” she states smoothly. “Indeed, you’ve done me a great service, facilitating my re-emergence. Thanks to you, I can now safely navigate the wards designed to keep me a waking prisoner down in this stinking jail.”

“But are you…” Jim tries again.
She smiles at Jim coolly. “I am a victim of the Barbarians whose city squats above us. They would destroy my people, my home. They would condemn me for being loyal to my kingdom. I am Princess Iasmini of the Blue Spires, and now I am able to return to Grimbo, to destroy, once more- and this time for eternity! Stand aside, or rest forever in this cold, wet grave.”

Cas tries to edge his way to the front.

By her imperious expression, you can tell that she is used to being obeyed.

“Ok, you’re the Undine, you’ll destroy the City, got it, love.” Jim affects his most patronising voice, swiftly followed by, “FIRE.”

Next Turn: The Undine.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 73: The Undine.

FONG

That’s Bec’s bow, it doesn’t get much use, the arrow smashes into the Undine’s face, or rather would have done if her Shield spell wasn’t in place.

Fwung, and then again.

Newt’s crossbow sings, but the Undine’s Shield spell holds.

Suddenly a Hawk appears in the air above the Aquatic Elf, Anya points at the Undine and the startled bird attacks, but is easily swatted away.

WHOOOOSSH

A jet of water races from the Undine’s fingertips, barrels down the passageway, the wave crashes into Bec and Jim, knocking the pair over, slamming them into the sides of the passageway- Jim thumps back out of the chamber and into Anya who loses her footing and tumbles into the water.

Ala quickly grabs the Wizard up, still concentrating on her spell, the Hawk continues to attack. Jim and Bec struggle to the surface.

“Charge.” Cas rushes towards the chamber.

Bec rights himself, throws down his bow, and charges, he’s a good ten feet ahead of the others, and moving fast.

Suddenly a water snake, a huge Constrictor explodes from beneath the surface and slams into the Barbarian, who stumbles under the sudden weight. The snake quickly coils forward, wrapping itself around Bec’s right leg and lower torso.

Fwung

And.

FWUNG

The second bolt from Newt’s crossbow finds the weak spot and slams into the Undine’s side, she flinches, yells some sort of bitten off curse.

“For that you die dry-skins.”

Anya’s Hawk dives in again but once more is swatted away.

Jim rises, coughing and spluttering from the water, takes a gulp of air and screams “No, it’s your time that’s over, bitch.”

The Undine just grins, and in an instant a wall of water rises up and seals the passage from the chamber, through it Jim can still see her smiling face, and Bec of course, being crushed by the Giant Constrictor Snake, the Barbarian gurns back at the Ranger, he’s alone with the Undine and her pet Snake.

Ala and Cas react first, they share a glance and then charge, as best they can knee deep in sludge, they crash into the wall of water- the pair bounce back, it’s solid.

Bec beyond the wall is dragged under the water, screaming with fury, ribs cracking, breaking- the Giant Constrictor is crushing the life out of him.

The Undine, Princess Iasmini, smiles her wicked smile, waves through the portal at the Goodman Gang, and settles to watch the sport.

Next Turn: A Watery Grave.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 74: A Watery Grave.

The wall of water is still firmly in place, beyond it Bec surfaces again, tendons pinging, Rage engulfs him…

“BUFFET.”

And with a dagger in his hand, he stabs down and slices into the snake, saws through the Constrictors skin, flesh and bone, cuts away the last three feet of the serpent.

Instantly a wound appears upon the Barbarian’s scalp, it bleeds profusely.

And then there’s the snake which is crushing him still.

Anya’s hawk fades to smoke and dust, the Wizard presses herself against the wall of water, stares in, she wants this spell to go just right.

The Wizard mutters arcane words, suddenly there’s an explosion of light right in front of the Undine’s eyes, the Flare is just enough, the Aquatic Elf stumbles and at the same moment the wall of water comes crashing down.

“Kill her.” Cas screams as he and Ala rush straight for the Undine, Jim diverts his charge, buries his battleaxe in the Giant Constrictor and rips it free from the Barbarian, slashes again, and again, and again… until finally the thing is dead.

“Noooooo.” The Undine screams, but too late, she expertly dodges Ala’s sword thrust but is impaled, momentarily, on Cas’ sword. The Aquatic Elf slips free of the blade and dives into the water, and swims like an eel, she’s gone- down the passageway and out of the chamber, before any of the Goodman Gang can react.

Bec continues to thrust his dagger into the now dead Constrictor, still raging.

“There, down the passage.” Newt, who so far has stayed well out of the trouble, points the way.

“Charge.” Cas cries, Bec leads the way back out of the chamber, he needs no urging.

Suddenly the water in the passage drains away, which leaves the Gang, for a fraction of a second, high and dry, then flows back in, with a vengeance, a tidal wave, a tsunami.

And yet all of the adventurers, miraculously, stand after the tide has passed.

“Damn you dry-skins.” The Undine spits as she disappears around the far corner back the way they came.

The Gang charges on after her.

The Undine is much too quick, she dives back into the water, and by the time the Gang reach the False Tomb she’s climbing out of the water at the far end of the passageway, on her way out of the tomb.

“Enjoy your stay dry-skins; I’m going to destroy your City.”

Instantly another wall of water seals off the passage behind her.

Princess Iasmini waves demurely and is gone.

Next Turn: The Element of Surprise.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

> Princess Iasmini waves demurely and is gone.




That's not good ...

I was going to leave commenting until the end of this story arc, but now I've decided that seems rather mean, so I'd just like to say: Great stuff. I'm enjoying this tale more and more as it progresses. It's almost enough to make me wish I lived in Grimsby.

Ok. That last bit may not be entirely true.

Keep up the good work.


----------



## Goonalan

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> That's not good ...
> 
> I was going to leave commenting until the end of this story arc, but now I've decided that seems rather mean, so I'd just like to say: Great stuff. I'm enjoying this tale more and more as it progresses. It's almost enough to make me wish I lived in Grimsby.
> 
> Ok. That last bit may not be entirely true.
> 
> Keep up the good work.




Thanks for that, much appreciated.

Here goes...

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 75: The Element of Surprise.

But the Gang it seems have not given up, they charge en masse at the liquid barrier, and Bec, then Cas who’s right behind the Barbarian slam through, the water is like glass, with ragged edges, the two flop through the other side, the barrier instantly reforms, the pair lie still for a second panting, covered in bleeding wounds from head to foot. 

The four that didn’t make it through are also nursing wounds, damaged on impact with the liquid barrier.

Then Bec is up and through the door, Cas, gasping- ragged breaths, staggers after the Barbarian.

“Cas… Cas…” Ala screams but the Paladin doesn’t look back.

And then there she is, the Undine, about to open the far door- Bec charges forward, almost out on his feet, tottering, he ploughs into her, his Rage still in full fury, the pair stumble and fall, crash through the portal, and land back in the deep desert. 

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarggghhhh.” 

The Undine screams as she takes in her surroundings, pressed down onto the scorching hot sand, beneath the baking sun, blinded by the light she struggles, clearly out of her element- an arid wasteland where no water exists.

THUMP.

Bec plunges his dagger into her chest- and yet another deep cut opens up on the Barbarian’s scalp.

Back in the foul tunnels the wall of water finally bursts, the Goodman Gang are coming.

Cas stumbles on through the portal, staggering and falling, using whatever is at hand to keep him upright, he’s bleeding profusely and gasping for air.

Princess Iasmini struggles against Bec’s choke hold, she lashes out, rakes her nails across the Barbarian’s face, more blood flows, Bec cannot see it fills his vision. He has to free his hand to try and wipe away the filth.

She scratches and claws again, with both hands this time, her nails dig in deep; she rips the flesh from Bec’s face, then as the Barbarian falls backwards, scrambling and pawing at his broken visage, she draws the dagger from her belt, and with both hands plunges it deep into Bec’s chest. The Barbarian slumps forward- spent.

Iasmini wriggles out from beneath Bec who lies still, unmoving, in the stinging sand.

Cas staggers forward- through the portal, using his longsword as a walking stick, lashes out but the Undine scrambles away just in time, the Paladin, now without the support of his longsword, falls, and lies still.

“Dry-skins, Pah.”

The Undine spits, the water evaporates almost before it reaches the baking sand, she looks… terrified.

Jim comes bundling through the door, Ala quickly behind him, the Priestess kneels and fires healing energy into the Paladin, and then soon after the Barbarian, for Bec it’s, once again, just in time.

Jim stalks forward battleaxe in hand, the Undine retreats.

“Where you gonna run to now?” The Ranger screams. “Where?”

The Undine screams back, and then lunges at Jim, who staggers back and swings his axe with all his might, hoping that his aim is true.

THUMP

Everything stops.

Jim looks down at the ragged form of the Aquatic Elf, his axe buried deep in her side, her right arm removed at the elbow, the bloody stump waving forlornly, she looks up, “Not here… not here in the desert. Please…”

“I…” Jim begins and then looks doubtful.

Cas steps out of his shadow, lances his longsword deep into the wretched Undine’s gut.

The Undine grasps the blade, then spits out blood, her eyes close.

“It’s over.” The Paladin whispers.

A little later, wounds have been dressed, and where possible healed; the Gang head back in to search her tomb, there’s nothing more to be found, the only treasure the weapons the Princess had on her.

Much later, before the return journey, Jim creeps back into the desert and hauls the already rotting carcass of the Aquatic Elf away into the dunes, leaves her there for the butchers, the carrion eaters, for the Beetles to eat her- he hopes.

Four days later they emerge from the sand and baking heat, with quite a story to tell.

Next Turn: All’s well that ends well.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 76: All’s well that ends well.

“So she’s dead?” Khan asks again.
“Yes. I said so didn’t I?” Jim pronounces every word.
“Why didn’t Casimir La Frond come and tell me this?”
“Because I wanted to do it.”
“Why?”
“To see your face, to see your reaction.”
“And? Are you satisfied Mr. Bowen?”
Major Khan smiles.

Jim glares at him, instinctively rests his hand on the haft of his axe.

“Nobody calls me Mr. Bowen, that’s my father’s name.”
“Was Jim… Was your father’s name.”

Which stops the Ranger in his tracks.

“Here’s your reward, and more besides- three hundred platinum coins, I thought it would be more portable.”

Jim goes to take the sack of coins.

“That’s enough to buy your silence, isn’t it- we don’t want any of our secrets to get out… do we?”

Jim shakes his head, grabs the sack, turns on his heels and is out of there before he can take another breath.

Anya latches onto him outside of the Watch House.

“What did he say?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”

Anya comes to a halt, Jim strides on oblivious, his head buzzing with memories of his father.

“Jim!”

He walks on.

Anya eventually sees that he’s not stopping, she rushes to catch up, grabs his arm.

“What now?”
“Sleep… Sleep to forget.”
“Forget what?”
“Everything.”

The Goodman Gang put down their weapons, remove their armour, even forget to learn their spells at the dawn of the next day.

Peace reigns.

In the Wheatsheaf inn the Gang are treated like heroes, after all they ended the Ripper’s killing spree, Father Whiskin calls to add his voice to the throng, but victory seems somewhat hollow. For all of them.

Jim takes to his room- alone; meals and drinks are sent up.

Bec wanders the town till he’s fed up with people pointing at him, about half-a-day is all it takes, then he too takes to his bed.

Anya hits the books, disappears into Grimbo College, the Department of Magics, takes to sleeping on a camp bed in an otherwise empty room, she doesn’t go out at all.

Cas and Ala wrap themselves around each other, emerging only to take a closed coach to the Church of Pelor every now and then.

Newt’s gone, back to The Nunny, to do whatever it is he does there.

Time passes slowly.

The Gang drift wordlessly apart.

Next Turn: Review


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #24
Legend of the Ripper
Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)​
Turn 76a: Review

Overall score out of 10: 7.9
Play time: Approx 14 bloody hours.

Review:

Another scenario that seemed to go on and on, you certainly get your moneys worth with this one. That said the players enjoyed the second half of the scenario less than they did the first. The hunt for the Ripper proved to be a lot of fun, particularly when the players got out the dressing up box and started to get into the swing of things. Likewise the terrifying nature of the hunt kept the players on edge throughout- on a number of occasions they wanted to just get out of the place. 

The players commented on conclusion that the first half of the scenario was far more enjoyable and that the second half proved to be incredibly difficult, more of an add on, this was reflected in the overall score for the scenario.

Notes and Quotes:

The opening was excellent, the Gang stumbling from clue to clue trying to work out exactly where they need to go to find the Ripper. Obviously it didn’t help that Newt blew his Gather Information spectacularly and then decided to try to employ threats to get Blackburn the Baker to tell all. All it needed really was a touch of Cas’ charm, which he of course brought to bear a little later.

The gang of ruffians proved no real threat, even advanced in levels, they were quickly brought to see the error of their ways. I chose to get them upstairs into the Bar of the Ten Bells next, hence the scream from above when they got to the cellar proper. I figured it would be game over far too soon if they were to stay in the cellar and find the secret door there.

And so upstairs and into Mari’s home, I tried to pile on the agony, keep them on their toes; I think I did a fair job of keeping them moving particularly when they got to meet Mari’s spectral remains.

Then, after rescuing the blind and lost con artist they’re back down in the basement and soon after through the secret door- and on their way to the final confrontation.

The battle against the Ripper, advanced to 6 HD, including two levels of Ranger added with flashing Masterwork Sickles, and Human as its Favoured Enemy, it all proved to be a titanic face off. Bec came very close to dying.

But eventually the Goodman Gang saw it through.

Which only lead them further into the mystery, the Undine.

Down below eventually and to the Iron Golem and the desert, between a lot of little rocks (sand) and a hard place. Yet another epic battle at hand, the Huge Metal Statue was more or less impervious to their blows- it takes a while but, as always, they battle their way through.

The desert is the killer, there’s a lot of it and nothing happens, except that the players get weaker, I think this is the point of frustration, there’s nothing to battle here and yet they can see their characters falling apart. Particularly Bec and Cas, Miss E. and Mr. R., they’re out of their depth, as I’ve said nothing tangible. In actual time it took over an hour to play through the desert section, obviously I should have prepared a set of encounters, something to relieve the monotony, it didn’t work so well.

Then on to the pair of Water Elementals, which nearly proved to be Anya’s undoing, I felt that a Large Water Elemental would have proven to be much too much for the players to handle, after all they’re only just level 3, Cas level 2. The two Medium Elementals caught in the chamber were more than enough to make it difficult for the players trapped within.

Which just leaves us with the Undine, and that was close, they got lucky, a Flare spell to save the day, they got lucky- that’s my line and I’m sticking with it. If that water wall had not fallen then this DM would have taken great pleasure in finally destroying Bec, and from there… they would have fallen like a house of cards, honest.

I was that close to finally getting rid of the Goodman Gang.

Who am I kidding?

Next Turn: Catch up, again.


----------



## Goonalan

Saga of the Dragon Cult
Interlude 1
Intrigue at the Standing Stones
Scaled for level 3.​
Turn 77: Catch up, again.

Cas has hit 3rd level, see below.

“Jim” Bowen​
Human Male Ranger Level 3 
NG HP 35 AC 19 Init +2
Str 14 Dex 15 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 12 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +6 Ref +5 Will +3
+1 Battleaxe (family heirloom) +6 d8+3 
Longbow (Masterwork Mighty (+2)) +7 d8+2 or Rapid Fire +5/+5  
Dagger, Silver +5 or +5 d4+2
Armour: Griffin insignia Masterwork Breastplate and Large Masterwork Wooden Shield.

Feats: Skill Focus (Trapmaking), Point Blank Shot, Track, Favoured Enemy- Dire Animals, Ranger Two-Weapon Fighting & Ambidexterity, Rapid Shot, Weapon Focus Longbow. 

Skills of note: Animal Empathy +4 Climb +5 Craft (Trapmaking) +6 Handle Animal +4 Hide +7 Jump +6 Knowldege (Nature) +3 Listen +5 Move Silently +6 Search +3 Spot +3 Wilderness Lore +6

Items of note: Potion Cure Lt x4; Potion Darkvision; Cloak of Resistance +1, 20 Silver Arrows, Vial of Antitoxin, Potion Spider Climb, Potion of Love, Potion Cure Moderate, 10 Sunrods.

Light Warhorse “Sarge” & associated kit and caboodle.

Bec​
Human Male Barbarian Level 3
CG HP 46 AC 17 Init +1
Str 18 Dex 12 Con 18 Int 11 Wis 8 Ch 9 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +2 Will 0
Mighty (+4) Masterwork Composite Longbow +5 d8+4
+1 Dagger of Wounding +8 or +5 d4+5
Greatclub +7 d10+6
Longsword Masterwork +8 d8+4 (usually with Buckler +1)
Greatsword Masterwork Cold Iron +8 2d6+6
Armour: Studded Leather Masterwork, Buckler +1, Bracers of Armour +1.

Feats: Toughness, Power Attack, Rage, Cleave, Uncanny Dodge & Greater Cleave.

Skills of note: Climb +10 Concentration +4 Jump +9 Listen +3 Ride +3 Spot +3 Swim +9 Use Rope +4 Wilderness Lore +3

Items of note: Climbers Kit, Wax Balls of Cure Lt x3, Potion Blur, Potion of Cure Moderate, Bracers of Armour +1.

Heavy Warhorse “Kaul” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Lord Casimir​
Human Male Paladin of Pelor Level 3 
LG HP 33 AC 19 Init +1
Str 15 Dex 13 Con 14 Int 14 Wis 11 Ch 14 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +4 Will +5
+1 Longsword Cold Iron +6 d8+3 
Longbow +4 d8 
Light Mace +5 d6+2
Armour: Shiny Breastplate +1 & Sparkling Large Masterwork Steel Shield

Feats: Negotiator, Dodge, Mobility, Detect Evil, Lay on Hands, Divine Health, Smite Evil, Aura of Courage, Remove Disease, Turn Undead, Spring Attack.

Skills of note: Concentration +4 Diplomacy +11 Handle Animal +6 Heal +3 Knowledge (History) +5 Knowledge (Local) +8 Knowledge (Religion) +6 Ride +5 Sense Motive +6 Spot +4 

Items of note: 3 Flasks of Holy Water, 5 Silver Arrows, Horn of Good, Potion of Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion of Vision, Potion of Haste, Healing Kit.

Light Warhorse “Reggie” & associated kit and caboodle.

Anya’Drea​
Human Female Wizard Level 3 
CG HP 18 AC 15 Init +5
Str 10 Dex 13 Con 12 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 17 
Saves Fort +2 Ref +2 Will +3
+1 Quarterstaff  +2 d6+1 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +3 d8
Dagger Coral Masterwork Keen +2 or +3 d4
Armour: Leather Armour, Ring of Protection +1, Bracers of Armour +1

Feats: Skill Focus (Use Magic Device), Armour Proficiency (Light), Improved Initiative, Scribe Scroll, Toughness, Brew Potion. 

Skills of note: Alchemy +6 Appraise +3 Bluff +3 Concentrate +7 Craft (Model) +3 Decipher Script +7 Diplomacy +3 Disguise +3 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +5 Intimidate +3 Knowledge (Arcane) +9 Knowledge (Architecture & Engineering) +4 Knowledge (Geography) +4 Knowledge (History) +4 Knowledge (Nature) +4 Knowledge (Nobility & Royalty) +4 Knowledge (The Planes) +4 Knowledge (Religion) +4 Listen +4 Move Silently +3 Perform (Vogue) +3 Scry +5 Search +3 Spellcraft +9 Use Magic Device +10

Familiar, actually Follower (of sorts) Swish, Animated Broom.

Spells: 	Lvl 0 (4) All; 
Lvl 1 (4) Shield, Mage Armour, Mount, Dummon Monster I, Unseen Servant, Detect Secret Doors, Detect Undead, Identify, Magic Missile, Colour Spray, Cause Fear, Expeditious Retreat, Shocking Grasp, Spider Climb, Charm Person, Sleep.
Lvl 2 (2) Fog Cloud, Scare, Spectral Hand, Darkvision, Endurance, Knock, Rope Trick.

Items of note: Scrolls- not so many of them as before, Wand of Burning Hands (Level 3- 13 Charges); Potion Cure Lt. x4, Potion Cure Moderate, Potion of Intelligence, Pearl of Power (lvl 1), Necklace of Fireballs Type I, 2 Bags of Caltrops; 6 Tindertwigs, 10 Sunrods.

“Swish” Animated Broom companion AC15 Mv30 Init+2 +1 Slam d4 Hardness 5 Fort +0 Ref +2 Will -5

Light Warhorse “Mr. Fizz” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Newt​
Gnome Male Rogue Level 3
NG HP 22 AC 19 Init +3
Str 11 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +3 Ref +6 Will +3
Heavy Mace Masterwork +4 d6 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +7 d6
+1 Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) of Spell Storing (Shocking Grasp D8+2) +4 D4+1
Adamantine Ceremonial Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) +3 D4
Dagger Masterwork Silver +4 or +7 d3
Armour: +1 Chain Shirt

Feats: Nimble Fingers, Low Light Vision, +1 To Hit vs. Goblinoids and Kobolds, +4 Dodge vs. Giants, Point Blank Shot, Evasion, Rapid Shot.

Skills of note: Alchemy +10 Appraise +5 Balance +8 Climb +5 Craft (Locksmith) +6 Decipher Script +5 Disable Device +10 Escape Artist +4 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +11 Intimidate +3 Jump +5 (+35 with Ring of Jumping) Listen +8 Move Silently +9 Open Lock +11 Pick Pocket +4 Read Lips +5 Ride (Pony) +3 Scry +3 Search +9 Spot +6 Tumble +5 Use Rope +3

Spells: Ghost Sound, Dancing Lights, Prestidigitation & Speak with Burrowing Animals.

Items of note: Silk Climbing Rope, 10 Tindertwigs, 3 Thunderstones, 2 Tanglefoot bags, 10 Sunrods, 2 Smoke Sticks, 5 Alchemist’s Fire, Thieves Tools Masterwork, 10 Silver tipped Bolts, 20 Masterwork Bolts, 3 Flasks of Acid, 4 Shell Shuriken of Crushing, Potion Cure Lt x4, Potion Spider Climb x2, Potion Invisibility, Ring of Jumping, Ring of Minor Sonic Resistance.

War Pony “Dobbin” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Ala​
Elf Female Cleric Level 3 
NG HP 26 AC 21 Init +3
Str 14 Dex 17 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 17 Ch 13 
Saves Fort +4 Ref +4 Will +6
Longsword Masterwork +6 d8+2
Composite Longbow Masterwork Mighty (+2) +6 d8+2
Dagger Silver +4 or +5 d4+2
+1 Dagger +5 or +6 d4+3
Masterwork Heavy Mace +5 d8+2 
Armour: Chain Shirt Masterwork, Large Masterwork Steel Shield & Ring of Protection +2

Feats: Point Blank Shot, Weapon Focus (Longsword), Turn Undead (4/day), Extra Turning.

Skills of note: Balance +3 Concentration +4 Diplomacy +3 Escape Artist +3 Heal +8 Hide +3 Listen +5 Move Silently +3 Ride (Horse) +3 Sense Motive +3 Spot +5 Use Rope +3 Wilderness Lore +3

Spells: Lvl 0 (4) Lvl 1 (5) Lvl 2 (3)
Domains: War & Good.

Items of note: 2 Healer’s Kits, Scroll Protection from Elements, Potion Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion Cure Moderate Wounds, Scroll Hold Person & Deeper Darkness and a few others, Vial of Silversheen, Pearl of Power (lvl 1), Ring of Whispering Wind (10).

Light Riding Horse “Slim” & associated kit and caboodle.

Next Turn: Wood you believe it?


----------



## Goonalan

Saga of the Dragon Cult
Interlude 1
Intrigue at the Standing Stones
Scaled for level 3.​
Turn 78: Wood you believe it?

It’s funny what you can find in the bottom of a bottle.

KNOCK-KNOCK.

“Jim…” It’s Mischa.

Jim opens the door, he’s half-dressed and half-cut, he sways slightly, the bottle, nearly empty, tumbles from his hand.

“Is that you?” Jim staggers forwards arms open.
Mischa melts into his arms.

The Ranger holds her tight to him, whispers, “sorry”, and closes his eyes.

The pair remain locked together for quite some time, eventually Mischa breaks the clinch.

“D’ya wanna come in.” Jim shuffles back out of the doorway, his room’s a mess, it looks like it’s been ransacked.
“Who did… Oh Jim, what’s happened to you?” Mischa steps in and clutches the Ranger to her. 
“It’s a mess. I’m a mess… I don’t know what to do.”

Jim clings to her.

Eventually Mischa loosens his grip.

“I need you. I need the Gang, something’s wrong.”
“What is it? Are you alright?”

Mischa nods, smiles.

“Jim, I need you to get the others, there’s something very bad happening near Tetnee, I need… I need you to help me, all of you. Can you find the others?”

Jim nods, and tries a half-smile on for size.

“I’ll get them.” He whispers.

Mischa grasps him to her again, plants a kiss on his cheek, smudges it till their lips are locked, eventually breaks away.

“Downstairs, an hour?”

Jim nods again, sobers up quickly and sets about finding the other members of the Goodman Gang.

An hour later they’re all gathered around a roaring fire in the bar room of the Wheatsheaf Inn, a little away from the dozen or so patrons who quietly sup and eat- it’s a slow day.

They sip their drinks, brought by a comely Elf, obviously a new member of staff, the young Elf maiden catches the eye of a number of the members of the Gang, and yet its on Jim that her gaze lingers, she even manages a smile, and a wink.

That’s all I need- the Ranger thinks but nevertheless winks back, which causes the maidens smile to spread even further.

Mischa follows Jim’s gaze, then drains her glass, Anya doesn’t know where to look.

“How can we help Mischa?” Cas however is all business, he only has eyes for Ala.
“Thistle and I had cause to travel to Tetknee a little while ago, at the invite of the Wise Woman of the village, our relations are cordial. The village has recovered remarkably after the predations of the Ogre, with your help.”

Which causes a number of smiles and nods from the listening crowd.

“However one of the outlaying farms was attacked recently, fortunately no one was hurt, at least no one on the farm- the attackers got away with cattle and fowl- food for a large group perhaps. But that’s not all, one of the attackers- a dishevelled female Barbarian, a northerner perhaps, had the misfortune to get left behind- two of the farmer’s sons, big lads, set about her- they got lucky I think. I’ve seen the body, before it was buried, the Barbarian was clearly an experienced warrior, although she was unarmed- she did manage to cut open the face of one of the lads- he nearly bled to death- her nails were sharpened to points, as were her teeth…”
“Vam…” Newt starts, and is instantly waved into silence.
“No, they were human alright, perhaps crazed or just feral- anyway, that’s not all, she was wearing this.”

Mischa hands over a gold pendant on a leather thong, they’ve seen the thing before- a three fingered hand. Newt had quite a collection of them at one point- back when they were hacking their way through the Kobold Abominations.

“You’ve seen it before?” Mischa asks

The Gang content themselves to stare at the thing, Anya nods.

“Lots of them, isn’t that right Newt. The Kobolds had them down in that hell hole we ripped apart.” Anya smirks.
“So what does it mean?” Cas asks and leans in to pick up the pendant.

Mischa answers.

“That’s what’s so odd, Thistle’s not really sure. We had a snoop around the caves, a few minor skirmishes, a few Stirges and the like- nothing much, the place was empty, except…”
“Except what?” Cas continues to probe.
“Except someone had been there, at least twenty people, with horses- they’d been camped there for a week or so, I think. We found signs that they had ventured deep into the place, further than we dared to go.”

The Inn grows silent.

“We managed to follow the trail out of the caves, for a while, it became obvious where they were heading- there’s an old Druid Circle in the woods near there, atop a small hillock. Thistle decided that it was too much danger for the pair of us, he did however enquire of several of his woodland friends- they see and hear everything. It seems the group are camped at the Druid Circle, although to what ends, the area possess little of its previous power, the Druids, as you know, are spread thinly in these parts…”
“How can we help?” Jim interjects then smiles warmly at Mischa and reaches out to grasp her hand.

Anya scowls and looks away.

Mischa grips tight to Jim’s hand, tighter still, her smile turns into a sudden frown, she thumps forward into the wooden table- hard, spilling her glass which tumbles and falls, shatters on the flagged floor of the Inn.

“Wha?” Jim’s up and rushing around the table. Ala is quick to help. The other members of the Gang rise quickly, a clamour of voices, none of them making sense.

“Who did…”
“Is she…”
“Ala?”
“Mischa?”
“Jim?”

The Ranger suddenly stops in his tracks, at the door to the kitchen the newest member of the Wheatsheaf waiting staff stands, the Elven maiden encountered earlier- she smiles again, this time there’s an edge to it, goes to wave and then changes her mind, she ducks back into the kitchen and out of sight.

“Poison.” Jim states, draws his dagger and leaps towards the kitchen.

Next Turn: Catch me if you can.


----------



## Goonalan

Saga of the Dragon Cult
Interlude 1
Intrigue at the Standing Stones
Scaled for level 3.​
Turn 79: Catch me if you can.

“She’s poisoned.” Ala confirms and sets about trying to find a suitable cure, or at least something to slow the toxin’s attack.

“THIS WAY.” Jim screams.
“ASSASSIN.” Newt follows up having caught a glimpse of the fleeing maiden.

Jim barrels through the swing door and into the kitchen.

THUMP-THUMP

 “Arrghhhh.”

And is hit twice in quick succession by a pair of arrows, the first grazes his cheek, the second thumps in and through his right thigh, which drives him back into the wall.

The Elf maiden smiles and waves- there’s even time for her to blow a kiss, then leaps from an open window into the backyard of the Inn.

Jim grits his teeth, snaps off the arrow head, and in one swift more removes the shaft, slings it aside and launches himself at the open window.

“ASSASSIN.” He screams.

Enris, the Elven maiden, lands lightly and is off and running- heading for a dark passage which leads back around to the front of the Inn, which is sure to throw the Goodman Gang.

Jim on the other hand lands awkwardly, hands out, SLAP, onto the cobbled yard- trying to protect his injured leg from the impact; he looks left and right, nothing… oh hang on a flash of clothing, he limp-runs towards the alley.

Back in the bar room of the Wheatsheaf Inn a large portion of chaos is being served. The clientele are ducking and diving for cover, screaming all the while, tables have been overturned, Big Reg behind the bar is waving a metal-headed club around, although there’s nothing untoward in sight.

“CALL THE WATCH.” Someone yells above the din.

Ala is still clutching the unconscious Mischa, peering into her seemingly lifeless eyes.

“We need to get her to Whiskin. Now.” She yells at the backs of the rest of the Gang who are headed for the kitchen.

Except one.

Newt checks his run, looks left, back to the entrance to the Inn- where would he go, he thinks, then makes his decision and heads full speed out of the front door of the Inn and into the street, which has little in the way of passing traffic, it’s almost deserted.

The Gnome looks right- there’s an alley, never noticed that before, he muses, grins and then races off.

Bec smashes into the kitchen; almost knocking the door off its hinges- scans the room, where’d they go? The Barbarian spots the open window- dashes across the room, spilling the huge kitchen table en route.

FWUNG

The Barbarian is stuck in the window’s frame, like a cork in a bottle.

“I can’t… Arrrggghh.”

Bec goes tumbling out as Cas thumps into his wedged backside. Anya follows hard on the Paladin’s heals.

“Go back, get Mischa to the Church, help Ala.” Cas pants and climbs up to the window.
“What woman’s work?” Anya spits back.
Cas looks very angry, very suddenly- “Save her Anya, save her… for Jim.” 

And the Paladin’s gone.

Anya thinks about it, although for less than a second, she rushes back into the bar room and to Ala, a couple of the regulars at the Inn have improvised a stretcher from a table top, Anya grabs a corner and helps to supervise the evacuation.

“One of you go ahead, to the Church, get father Whiskin, tell him what’s happened here, we shouldn’t be long.” Anya shouts.
“What about a carriage?” Ala asks.
“Let’s not risk it.” Anya shakes her head.

They head for the door.

Newt skitters around the corner and into the alley and straight into the path of Enris who skids to a halt barely thirty feet away from the Gnome.

“Bastard.” She spits.

Then sprints off back the way she came. 

“NEWT.”

The Gnome twitches at the sound of Anya’s voice behind him.

FWUNG

His crossbow bolt misses Enris by inches, almost parting the Elf maiden’s hair.

“Bastard.” Newt spits and turns to look behind him, “what?”
“We’ll be at the Church, tell Jim we’ll save her.” Anya calls and then dashes off down Bargate.

“Where’d they go?” Cas asks as he lands in the backyard of the Inn.
Bec shrugs, looks left then right- nothing.

The pair draw their daggers, that’s all they have in the way of weapons.

Enris meanwhile sprints on, back down the alley, suddenly Jim appears ahead of her, blocking her path, and with dagger in hand. There’s nothing for it.

THUMP.

The Elf maiden hits Jim as hard as she can, sends the Ranger sprawling backwards but not before he’s got the chance to bury his dagger deep in her side, she winces pulls the blade out and runs on.

“HERE- THE ALLEY.”

Jim screams, stumbles and then scrambles to his feet, grabs his blade up and runs after her.

Cas and Bec share a glance then sprint towards Jim’s voice, just in time to see Enris emerge from the alley, take a wide arc and sprint past the pair of them at full pelt.

“Damn.” They skid to a halt, turn tale and head back the way they came, Jim is soon up with them, and then past them.

FWONG

Newt emerges from the alley, drops and fires, well wide, he slings his crossbow over his shoulder, its on a strap, and heads off as fast as his little legs will take him- which as it turns out is not very fast at all.

“She’s heading for the Park.” Jim calls back and sprints on.

The chase continues the two hundred yards down Wellhome Road and to People’s Park, a huge green space in the middle of the City full of duck ponds, manicured lawns, and exotic varieties of trees and shrubs- there’s also a Falconry Centre for the moneyed locals to stable their hawks.

The few visitors, parading in the twilight, mostly well dressed young couples, scatter for cover as Enris and the Gang scream into view.

“DON’T LOSE HER.”

Jim shouts, he’s catching up to Enris, now well ahead of the others, although Bec is managing to find his stride. 

Wild birds in their cages squawk and screech, the sound echoes throughout the park, sending more of the locals running for home.

Newt pulls up on the outer edges of the Park, out of breath; instinctively he fumbles with his crossbow, gets it loaded.

“Evening.”

He tips his hat at a fleeing couple who dive for cover.

There she is- if I can just… he thinks.

FWONG

His target turns out not to be the fleeing Enris, who in fact is well ahead, and out of sight of the panting Gnome.

THruuuuuuuum.

Newt’s crossbow bolt vibrates after burying itself in the trunk of a great oak, about ten feet away from a now startled Elven Park Ranger.

“SORRRRREEEEE.”

Newt waves his apology and staggers over to a bench to smoke a cigarette; he’s out of breath again, waits to get arrested, probably.

Bec meanwhile has caught up with Jim, the pair are heading round the outskirts of the largest duck pond in the park, towards a gaily painted wooden band stand, at which is Enris.

“He’s never around when you need him.” Bec croaks at Jim.
“Who?” The Ranger spits back.
“Khan.” Bec grins, it’s infectious, but only for a second, Jim grimaces and sprints harder, manages to turn his dagger in his hand, ready to throw.

A good distance behind the pair Cas comes to a halt, not really sure of where to head next, he’s lost them- they’re hidden behind a stand of trees that circles the pond.

“Blast.” The Paladin exhales and then jogs on, scanning the park now mostly hidden in the twilight.

FWO-FWO-FWO-DUNK

Jim’s aim is true, his dagger slices a bloody line in Enris’ shoulder, the Elf falters, then dodges hard right, a smaller path heading for the screeching Falcons clawing at their cages, trying to get out.

The Elf maiden dives around a corner and disappears from sight.

Jim and Bec share a look and dash on to see.

Enris is waiting for them; she mutters arcane words and two zig-zagging dots of energy lance from her outstretched arm and thump into Jim, knocking the Ranger clean of his feet and hard into the bird cages.

Bec however is unaffected; he doesn’t even break his stride, rushes straight for her.

But she’s lightning fast, in one movement her shortsword is drawn and the Elf is ready, she leaps aside at the last instance dodging the Barbarian’s clumsy blow easily, her sword leaves a bloody trail on Bec’s right arm, its cut almost to the bone, and a scratch on his right shoulder.

The Barbarian skids to a halt; twitches uncontrollably, and rages, turns and stabs down hard, plunging his dagger between the maiden’s shoulder blades, the wound erupts, blood fountains.

The Elf staggers forwards to escape the blade, spins as quickly as she can to bring her shortsword around again, Bec however has other problems, a deep gouge appears over the Barbarian’s eyes, a curtain of blood gushes down filling his eyes and mouth, he’s bleeding profusely, and yet cannot recall sustaining the wound.

Bec fumbles, almost drops his dagger.

The Elf maiden shuffles backwards- watching him, all the time muttering arcane words.

Jim drags himself upright, looks up.

And she’s gone.

“Aaaargh.”

Bec dances forward, swats and swipes at the empty air, a screaming fury- he stabs and lances, cuts and thrusts but connects with nought.

The Ranger is forced to seek cover.

“BEC. BEC. Bec she’s gone, disappeared.”

It has no affect, other than to perhaps give away his position, which is almost enough to draw the Barbarian’s ire.

The swatting and stabbing continues for a little while yet, till Bec’s rage subsides, and Jim is finally able to make himself understood.

“BEC. Move, maybe I can track her.”

“What the hell is going on here?”

Jim looks up- Khan, and standing at his side Cas, flanked by two burly members of the Watch, Newt peeks out from behind one of them, the Gnome holds up his hands, manacled, he grins.

Next Turn: Explain.


----------



## Goonalan

Saga of the Dragon Cult
Interlude 1
Intrigue at the Standing Stones
Scaled for level 3.​
Turn 80: Explain.

“No, I don’t understand- explain?” Khan bangs the table again; he’s back on home turf, the Watch House.
“We’re wasting time.” Jim growls.
“And you’ll waste more of it, now explain.”
“We were attacked, there are witnesses, Mischa was poisoned, in the Wheatsheaf Inn.” Cas begins.
“Big Reg and a number of the locals have confirmed that your Druid friend was taken ill, they did not however see any attack.”
“She was poisoned you idiot, by the waitress.” Jim is prevented from getting up by a pair of Watchmen.
“I’ve had about as much as I’m going to…”

CRUNCH

The door to the interview room is flung open; Anya and Ala appear in the doorway, being manhandled, or more likely, vice-versa, by another pair of Watchmen.

“Mischa’s ok Jim- she’ll live.” Ala calls out, nods.

Jim looks to the floor, his eyes are stinging.

Bec sits silent in the back of the room, next to Newt who spends his time staring out of the window, he’s still in chains.

“You’ve got to let them go.” Anya states.
“Why?” Khan smiles thinly.
“We are called to duty.” Cas barks back.

Which gets a laugh from Khan.

“Called to duty”, he mimics, “that sounds very heroic. Really Cas you’re so melodramatic at times.”

Which is about as much as Jim can handle.

The Ranger leaps from his chair and is on Khan before the Watchmen can do anything to stop him.

THUMP

It’s a good right-hook, certainly enough to flatten Khan.

“JIM.” Anya screams.

“You jumped up little bastard.” Jim spits as he’s wrestled away from a prostrate Khan.

Bec takes note of the incident but remains seated. Newt goes back to starring out the window, humming a happy tune. Ala quickly crosses to Cas, who is trying his best to calm Jim.

“Jim. Jim- leave him, let him be… Calm down Jim, this is getting us nowhere.”

The Ranger continues to wrestle with his captors, spitting curses.

“You’re a sham. A sham, worse than that…”

Khan rises.

“Add ‘striking a member of the Watch’, a senior member of the Watch at that, to the list of charges Sergeant. I think that’s the last we’ll be seeing of you for a while.”

Cas goes to interject, Jim struggles on.

“And as for you…” Khan looks over at Newt, who notices he’s on display at last, and smiles back- winks.

“You’ll be off the streets for at least a few years, the ‘attempted murder’ of an Park Ranger. Tut, tut. Yes, quite some time.”

Newt raises his eyebrows, continues to grin.

Khan turns awat, just as Newt finds his favourite finger, on both hands, and proffers them to Khan’s back.

“One day fecker. One day…” Newt whispers.

“Now come on…” Cas begins.

“And the rest of you, well as soon as we find this poor serving girl you chased off, well… Regardless, there’ll be other charges. It may be time for your happy band to consider a parting of the ways, other career opportunities…”

“You’ve got a short memory Major Khan.” The voice is like treacle; no, that’s not it- honey.

The door to the interview room slowly opens, and framed in the light is Lady Arabella, dressed, disappointingly, somewhat demurely, swathed in a thick black cloak.

“I said you’ve got a short memory Major Khan.”
“Ma’am I…”
“Not so long ago these brave men and women tracked down and killed a savage beast that took his pleasure murdering innocent young women in the City.”
“They were hardly ‘innocent’, m’lady.”
“Nevertheless Major I wonder what the Town Council would make of this- is this how you treat heroes?”
“M’lady I…” Khan starts.
“You what, Major?” Arabella looks quite fearsome.

Cas finds himself smiling, thinking, slowly peeling off her thick cloak.

Newt goes back to looking out of the window.

“Release them major, release them now.”
“These are Watch matters m’lady…”
“Do you defy me?”
“I…”
“I said- do you defy me?”

Ala looks away from the confrontation, notices Cas’ look, she removes her hand from his shoulder, Cas shifts and turns to Ala, she stares through him.

The silence expands.

Finally.

“Release them.” Khan whispers, nothing happens.

“I SAID RELEASE THEM.” He barks and struts out of the room via a second door away from the crowd.

“That was…” Anya begins.
“Thank you.” Jim smiles, “we should be off- Tetknee, the Druid Circle, now.” The last word is sharp, final.

“Whiskin’s waiting for us- I thought you might need a little healing.” Anya adds quietly, still staring at Jim.

The Ranger nods and marches off out of the interview room.

The others follow on; Newt the last to leave after presenting his manacles for removal, the Gnome takes one last look out of the window.

“I think its going to rain.”

He shrugs and heads off.

Next Turn: To the Circle.


----------



## Goonalan

Saga of the Dragon Cult
Interlude 1
Intrigue at the Standing Stones
Scaled for level 3.​
Turn 81: To the Circle.

At break neck speed to Tetnee, five hours or more in the saddle- their mounts spent, ready to collapse, they ride like the wind. The Gang are now armed and armoured, also fully healed, and buoyed by the news that Mischa will indeed survive with no permanent damage, although it was a close thing, the poison’s sting augmented by some foul magic.

Thirty minutes before midnight and the sextet are on fresh mounts, courtesy of Thistle and the Tetknee Wise Woman, and at the expense of several of the local farmers, they plunge on through the sparse woods towards the Druid’s Circle.

Twenty minutes later and they can see the lights; the Standing Stones are on the crest of the approaching hillock through a denser wooded glade, which is however blessed with an overgrown cart path, wide enough for two to ride abreast- Cas and Jim lead the way.

It’s very dark, the moon provides irregular lattices of light, just enough to see by- but not far, unless you’re an Elf, or a Gnome.

“Watch out.” Anya screams but it’s mostly too late.

ZOOM

Wicked looking wooden darts arc out from the foliage either side of the track.

One pierces Jim’s right leg, another thumps into his loaned mount’s side, the horse bucks and goes to race off.

“Ho there.”

The Ranger lays a calming hand on the horse’s neck, and in the same action dismounts, and with a whistle sends the beast cantering off to safety- he hefts his battleaxe and looses his shield in search of something to kill.

Alas the others are not so adept.

Two of the darts slam into the side of Bec’s horse, the beast rears and then charges forward, Bec thumps into a low tree branch, clings on for dear life as his mount races off into the dark and distance.

CRUNCH

The Barbarian plummets, tries to affect a safe landing, but fails, and instead crunches into the hard-packed earth.

BOOOOOOOOOOM

Thunder, followed by, before the echo has fully gone.

CRA-CRA-CRASHHHHHHH

Lightning, which illuminates everything, for just an instant.

Their attackers are half-a-dozen heavily armed and armoured Kobolds.

“AaaaarghhhBlast.”

Cas is hit twice in quick succession by darts, however the Paladin is calm enough to rein in his mount, the horse skitters and dances but the Paladin maintains control.

Behind Ala and Newt struggle to keep their mounts from bolting, they can do nothing but cling on, hoping to calm the nervous beasts.

Anya however, bringing up the rear, has no problems halting her mount, she kicks her heels into the horse’s flanks, clacks her tongue hard into the roof of her mouth, the horse backs away a little, out of the confusion.

Out of the woods come the heavily armoured Kobolds, the remains of rotten black wings, now no more than dying stumps, jut through their armour.

Two of the Kobolds dive towards Jim, who swings hard and thumps his battleaxe into one of the creatures, hard enough- easily, to kill a Kobold. The wounded assailant merely grins and steps in- stabbing madly with its short spear, leaving a gaping wound in the Rangers side- breaking ribs and tearing tendons. Jim almost folds.

The second of the creatures shuffles sideways to find a way past Jim’s shield, not looking where its going it wanders into the path of Newt’s mount- which does the decent thing and kicks the menace in its back.

Bec meanwhile levers himself up, only to realise there are three of them on him, he is, as ever, quick enough, his greatsword arcs out- smashes into the neck of one of the things, sending the Kobold sprawling.

“Come on.” The Barbarian calls and gestures for the other two to try their luck.

Then watches as the injured Kobold on the floor springs back to its feet, the Barbarian has questions.

The other two creatures swing and stab, he’s forced to back away and yet emerges unscathed from the action.

The last of the six Kobolds decides upon easier pray, charges out of the woods head down, attempting to bury his short spear in Cas’ horse.
Cas is too quick, and a better horseman than that, he draws his longsword and spurs his mount- which leaps forward instinctively, although not trained for this kind of work, Cas charges.

“PELOR.” The Paladin screams.

And tramples and cuts the Kobold down, leaving the creature lying on the floor, Cas halts his charge immediately and quick manoeuvres his mount back around, the Kobold’s getting up.

“Pelor?” Cas whispers.

Which, it turns out, has an answer.

“Smidgin.” A pair of Magic Missles arc out and into the fray, the first thumps into the rising Kobold, just picking itself up after Cas’ charge. The creature slumps forward- thumps into the dirt again, but this time doesn’t rise.

The second smashes into the back of the Kobold recently wounded by Bec, the creature sinks to its knees and then falls face first into the dirt, two down.

Bec and Cas glance thank you towards Anya.

Meanwhile, in the midst of the action, Ala and Newt finally get their mounts settled, the pair canter a little away from the melee- Newt leaps down and guides his mount out of the way, fiddling his crossbow out as he heads over to Anya.

Ala scrambles off her horse, which seizes the moment and gallops off to freedom.

CRACKKKKKK-BOOOOM.

Thunder and lightning again, the jagged fork strikes the ground somewhere nearby, once again illuminating the battlefield.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiii.”

A blood curdling scream is caught in the wind, the sound crashes over the fracas, causing some of the Gang to turn momentarily- it came from up the hill.

It begins to rain.

Fat droplets of water that thump into the ground with such force that they bounce up again, in seconds the track is a rivulet, slick and soft mud.

“I said it was going to rain.” Newt winks at Anya, the Gnome abandons his mount and turns to face their attackers, crossbow loaded, looking for a likely target.

At that moment, from out of the dark, two pulses of energy rush, both thump into Jim’s back- someone somewhere doesn’t like him. The Ranger is almost flattened, stumbles forward into his attackers swinging wildly, to no avail, and in the process is slashed horribly by the tip of a spear opening up a six inch gap on his neck and left shoulder. 

The second of Jim’s assailants back-peddles, straight into the clutches of Ala, who attempts to wrestle the creature to the ground. It isn’t pretty, the brief confrontation ends with the pair slipping in the mud and squelching into the mire, still locked in their tussle, neither of them, however, injured in any way.

Bec is stalled also by the sudden inclement weather, and the conditions underfoot, a Kobold dashes in under his half-hearted swings and stabs the Barbarian in his right thigh.

Cas quickly appraises the situation, spurs his horse forward, back into the fray, then leaps off in an attempt to help Ala, which only results in him falling on top of the struggling pile, and sending a wave of mud over those close by. Ala and the Kobold are winded by the Paladin’s attack, as is the Paladin- it’s a mess.

Newt creeps closer in, crossbow in hand, settles his sights on one of the Kobolds facing Bec, he’s got a clear shot at the creatures back.

Fwong

Or rather had a clear shot- at the last instant the Kobold dodges sideways, Newt’s crossbow bolt zooms past and slams into Bec’s chest, knocking the Barbarian backwards off-balance, and ruining his attack.

The Barbarian growls, stares hard at the Gnome, who quickly attempts to hide his crossbow.

“Smidgin.”

Another pair of Magic Missiles streak out and thump into the Kobolds attacking Bec, who were following up on the Barbarian’s fumble, foiling both of their attempts to kill the Barbarian.

Anya settles on her horse, pleased with her work, and…

“Aaaaaaarghh”

She’s hit square in the chest by a greenish glowing bolt which whizzes out of the wooded area to her right.

“Aaaaaaarghh”

The Acid arrow burns its way through the Wizard’s robes and clothing, fizzing and burning her skin, which also comes as a surprise to her mount, her horse is splashed by droplets of acid. The beast bolts, instantly shedding its rider.

Anya thumps into the dirt, clutching at her burning clothes and screaming madly.

Jim swings into action, smashes his battleaxe into the lone Kobold he’s facing, cutting the thing almost in two.

Bec likewise finds his stride, lances his greatsword out, stabbing the first of his attackers through its gut, steps into the second, smashes the hilt of his weapon straight down into the fiend, splitting its skull and breaking its neck in the same instance.

Back in the dirt Cas and Ala continue to wrestle the last of the creatures to a stand still, slipping and sliding they manage to pin the Kobold down.

“Ask it what’s going on- what’s up there?”

Cas points at the top of the hill, looking for Anya to do the translating into Draconic.

“Anya. Anya? Where is she?”

Jim steps in and wrenches the Paladin aside then slams his axe into the Kobolds face- killing it instantly.

Which grabs Cas and Ala’s attention, the Holy duo step back, somewhat aghast.

“JIM!” Cas screams at the Ranger.
“Get up Paladin”, Jim spits at Cas, “out of the dirt.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”

Again the scream comes carried on the wind.

CRACKKKKKK-BOOOOM.

Lightning strikes again, this time less than thirty feet away from the Gang, a tree ignites, flames leap into the air, fizzle and crackle soaked by the torrential rain.

“JIM!” Cas screams again, attempts to grasp the Ranger’s legs and misses, Jim stalks off up the hill and into the dark.

“Aaaargghhhh.” Anya screams again, still writhing on the floor, Cas and Ala are quickly over to the Wizard, the acid has burnt itself out, Ala presses her healing touch into service and in seconds Anya’s blistered skin is whole again, and there’s quite a lot of it on display, Cas quickly looks away, then back again, then away, then...

“The Elf. Assassin.” Anya points into the vegetation, the direction from which the Acid Arrow spell came, and shivers.

Cas looks but can see nothing.

“There’s a horse.” Newt shouts and points, and sure enough a figure on a horse is seen, and heard, just over the rolling thunder and plash of the rain, their attacker it seems is leaving, and at speed.

“COME ON.” Jim screams back at the Gang, then trudges off, further up the hill, into the muck, black and rain.

Next Turn: Bring on the Noise.


----------



## Goonalan

Saga of the Dragon Cult
Interlude 1
Intrigue at the Standing Stones
Scaled for level 3​
Turn 82: Bring on the Noise.

At the top of the Hill a flock of ravens circle madly, so dense is the flock that it almost blocks out the moon, the area seems however to preternaturally lit, the circle of Standing Stones glimmer, shimmer, silver in the glorious rain.

Nine stone arches each consisting of two hulking standing stones topped by a lintel circle a central platform complete with stone slab altar.

BOOOOOM

Thunder comes again.

CRAW

The revolving maelstrom of black birds crow, craw and call.

And stood in the midst of it all, atop the altar stone is a hulking Half-Orc wrapped in armour and a swirling cloak, holding a glowing bluish-black heavy mace in hand, as if conducting an orchestra, the creature face up staring at the heavens, which are obscured by the birds, seems to be shouting, nay screaming- his words are lost in the cacophony.

CRA-CRA-CRACKKKKK

Lightning strikes barely twenty feet away from the circle, scorching earth and blackening dead the plants caught in its blast.

Also punching a soon mended hole in the flock of crows above, dead and burnt birds tumble and plummet from the sky.

“What the…” Jim gasps.

Cas catches up at last and lays a hand on the Ranger shoulder.

The Gang perch just at the tree-line barely ten feet outside the circle of standing stones.

“JIM.” Cas shouts.
“WHAT?” The Ranger stares hard at the Paladin.
“ARE YOU OK?” Cas screams back, he actually looks concerned.

Jim takes a breath, then nods.

“He’s summoning something.” Anya states.
“No, it’s not a summoning, it’s something else.” Ala corrects.
“Who is he?” Cas asks to blank stares, turns back and is the first to notice that the Ranger is missing. 

“CHARGE” Jim’s up and running into the circle, past the first trilithon.

“THE STUPID…” Cas begins, just in time to see Bec leap to his feet and charge after the Ranger, loyalty for the Barbarian is a given.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.”

And of course the trap is sprung, a cluster of screaming feral women, previously huddled in wait, hidden on the other side of the huge stones, spring to attack from both sides of the soon beleaguered pair.

These foul creatures, just as Mischa described back in the Wheatsheaf Inn, are battle worn and scarred, hairy, toothsome and feral, their hands end in jagged nails sharpened on the rocks of the standing stones, like talons- northern barbarians, just as the Druid stated, crazed and raging already.

Jim is caught by one of the bitches, clawing for the Rangers throat she falls short and rips a hunk of bloody flesh from Jim’s exposed upper right arm. His own attack proves ineffective; there are three of them pressing him back.

Bec fairs less well, caught on both sides he is clawed and scratched, blood pours from his wounds staggering the giant man, almost disabling him in an instant. 

The Barbarian digs deep into his reserves of strength, smashes his greatsword forward, like a barrier, forcing all three of his attackers back, swings again and cleanly decapitates the first of the women returning to the fray, and then slices away much of his second attackers lower arm, which only causes the her to scream louder still before rushing to attack with her good arm. Bec knows the signs of Rage, nothing will stop these creatures- except death. 

“More of them.” Ala points ahead, past the fracas, where another pair of the crazed women stand ready either side of the screaming gesturing Half-Orc. 

Ala chants as she moves forward, her Bless spell encompasses her allies. Cas dodges forward around the fracas, charges up the hill towards the source of the fury, above the crows caw and wheel, like miserable black clouds, ill omens.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

Thunder calls.

The two Barbarian women scream their delight, rage and head forward to cut the approaching Paladin to ribbons.

Anya, who it seems is regretting her choice of spells this day, edges around the fight, trying to touch one of the women, the fingers on her right hand clutch and grab gloved in the electric blue of her Shocking Grasp spell, alas she doesn’t dare, cannot get close enough, or rather fears to, the Wizard backs away.

Newt meanwhile scatters out of harms way, fits a bolt into his crossbow, crouches and fires.

FWONG

The bolt canons into the hip of one of the two Barbarian warrior maidens set to destroy the Paladin.

Atop the hill Torslak, the Half-Orc, continues to chant, at last the wind brings his words to them, dark and profane, a spell it is certain, although what spell is beyond the knowledge of those present.

Jim struggles on and is clawed twice in quick succession, the second blow is enough to rip his shield from his grasp, the Ranger staggers as blood cascades down his face and hands, sullies the earth on which he stands, he’s cut to the quick- out on his feet. His attack is weak and yet scores a hit, more by luck than judgement, it’s a scratch however, his attackers redouble their efforts.

Anya sees her opportunity, or rather is at last stirred into action, she reaches in and grasps one of the women.

FZZZZZT

The crazed Barbarian leaps back but not before lashing out and leaving a red river in her wake, Anya scrambles backwards, clutching at her wound, in the exchange clearly the loser.

Bec too is clawed, this time however only a scratch, he stabs his greatsword clean through his attacker, kicks her dead corpse off his blade, and the slashes wildly at the next, his greatsword bites, digs deep into the woman’s flesh, almost cutting her in two- the second is dead, he’s clear- all of his attackers destroyed.

But that’s not enough for the Barbarian who dodges right and into the screaming fiends attacking Jim, scattering them in an instant, he stabs forward and shoots his blade through the face of the first of them, killing her instantly. 

“Help me.” Jim whispers, but Ala is close enough to hear, she steps forward and touches the Ranger, her healing powers fill him full of warmth, his wounds knit together and close over.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

Thunder comes again, but no lightning strike, the pressure builds, the air is charged.

Cas fights on, trying desperately to get past the Barbarians, he’s caught once- scratched across the throat, not deep but enough to give an edge to his voice. He stabs back and catches one of the women in her side, not enough to worry her though.
“Newt- the Half-Orc. Shoot the Half-Orc.” The Paladin growls.

Back down in the shadow of a great standing stone Newt blinks and whispers- “I would do if you’d get your fat head out of the way”, then settles his aim.

FWUNG

And suddenly a crossbow bolt sprouts from the Half-Orc’s chest, just as the creature bites off the last syllable of his spell, which is swiftly followed by an eruption of hot blood which slakes his face and chest.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

CRA-CRA-CRA-CRAKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

The lightning comes at last smashing down into a lintel stone, forking further down into each of the supporting standing stones.

CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRASHHHHHHH.

The entire trilithon is shattered into pieces sending jagged rocks spinning out in all directions.

“I KNOW THE TRUTH. I KNOW THE TRUTH.” The Half-Orc screams as splintered rocks fill the air with death.

Next Turn: And death shall have no dominion.


----------



## Goonalan

Saga of the Dragon Cult
Interlude 1
Intrigue at the Standing Stones
Scaled for level 3​
Turn 83: And death shall have no dominion.

All of the Gang are caught in the blast- Jim, Bec, Cas, and Newt are scratched and cut by the flying debris, as are the two Barbarian’s still attacking Jim and Anya. Ala however is not so lucky, the largest remnant of the stone lintel swings down and slams into her, sending her sprawling onto the floor- either dead or unconscious.

“NOW YOU MUST DIE.” The Half Orc grins, coughs up another slick of blood and marches down the hill towards Cas.

Bec and Jim meanwhile fight on, both are scratched and clawed again by the brutal women with Jim once again covered with blood, alas mostly his own, and almost out on his feet, thank Pelor its Bec with him. The Barbarian bursts between the pair, cuts left and more or less decapitates the woman, then right removing the seconds left arm and hewing deep into her torso- both dead.

“Thanks Bec. Thank you.” Jim grins, then staggers on forward up the hill.

Anya dodges back, sees Ala fallen, grabs the Priestess by her hands and attempts to drag her out from beneath the fallen shattered lintel, Bec sees her struggling, marches back and wrenches the remains of the huge stone free from Ala’s body. Between the two of them they manage to pour a healing draught into the broken Priestess, Ala blinks suddenly awake, opens her eyes fully as the storm continues to rage.

Cas is caught again, a horrible rent that rips through the armour on his chest and leaves a bloody trail down the Paladin. He stumbles backwards, the life draining from him, whispers Holy words and healing energies flow back into him, and the wound is as suddenly gone. Cas swings hard, crunches his longsword into his attacker and fells her where she stands- one left, then the Half-Orc.

The Half-Orc, the Paladin looks up, he’s approaching fast.

FWONG

Newt is right on target again, his bolt slices through the creature’s right calf, which brings the hulking brute to a sudden halt.

The rain washes over the Half-Orc’s face, washing much of the blood away, it shows no pain, he raises his heavy mace to the sky and screams as the crows continue to call and screech and circle.

“TELL THE MASTER. TELL HIM NOW.” He screams, then mutters a single syllable, and points at Cas- a white beam strikes out and bathes the Paladin. Cas fights it, ice in veins, his limbs lead weights, he can feel his whole body shutting down- paralysis grips him.

“PELLLLLLOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRR.”

He screams, and the spell is vanquished.

The crows swirl and flock, dive down to momentarily swathe the Half-Orc, who whispers unheard words to them, and then, as one, take wing again, the black mass heads north, its message to deliver.

Torslak, the Half-Orc, looks through the rain at Cas, nods once and continues down the hill.

The storm takes a breath; the rain slackens, then as suddenly stops.

Jim dodges past Cas, into the last of the Barbarian women, his axe bites deep severing the woman’s left arm completely. Cas nods at the Ranger, but the Barbarian bitch is not done, she fights on slashing again at the Paladin who is forced into an all out defence, but its still not enough- Cas is cut badly, he staggers backwards.

Jim swings again, and this time ends it- another hefty axe blow cutting deep into the woman’s back- she sinks to her knees and then falls face first into the dirt.

“You’re next.” Jim calls and strides forward with Cas to meet Torslak.

THWONG

Newt’s bolt fires wide for once.

“SurrendCRUNCH”

Cas is smashed in the face by the Half-Orc’s heavy mace, its all too much, he tumbles backwards, back down the hill and lies there in a crumpled heap.

DM’s Interlude Cas goes from 5 HP to -7 HP in an instant; here goes- polish the dice.

“Pelor.” Newt whispers, witness to the bloody scene, Jim gulps once, backs away slightly, trying to spot his shield on the filthy ground- it’s nowhere to be seen.

THWAAANG-CRUNCH

Newt’s crossbow explodes in a fury sending the Gnome hurtling backwards out of the circle, splinters of metal and wood embedded in his hands and face.

Jim weighs his axe in his hands, changes stance, looks for an opening. Behind him Bec comes lumbering forward- the Half-Orc blithely strides on closing fast. 

Jim swings hard, the Half-Orc is there, blocks the blow easily, it’s all that Jim can do to hold off the warrior for a moment- then Bec arrives.

Jim swings again, buoyed by the Barbarian’s presence; he’s blocked agai…

CRUNCH.

The Ranger sinks to his knees and then falls face forward into the dirt.

DMs Interlude Jim hits -3 HP.

Bec leaps into the fray, his greatsword locks for a moment with Torslak’s oddly coloured shining heavy mace, the Half-Orc grins as the two giants jostle in the clinch.

Newt rights himself, staggers forward, draws his own, somewhat pathetic looking- in comparison, heavy mace and… hovers, not knowing quite what to do.

Anya appears out of the darkness, takes in the situation and mutters arcane words- a cloak of black shimmering material sheathes the Half-Orc, Anya’s Scare spell takes effect, actually no effect, Torslak shrugs off the magic and swipes again at Bec. The Barbarian struggles to block the blow, his hands numb with the force of it- Bec has to give ground. A gold pendent- a three fingered hand, flashes into the light on the Half-Orc’s chest.

“Get me to Cas”, Ala appears limping very badly, attempting to climb the hill, also very badly- Anya is quickly to her side, supporting the Priestess of Correllon, the pair circle the battle being fought ahead. 

Bec ducks too late, he’s smashed in the side of the face, teeth and blood shoot out, he slips and slides further down the hill, almost back to the circle of standing stones.

The Half-Orc grins some more, and saunters after him.

“Soon be over.” Torslak states.

DMs Interlude- Bec’s on 4 HP, at last- two of the three warriors are down, the last one standing is almost gone, Anya with only a bunch of crap spells left, Newt… well Newt, and Ala barely conscious and on half-speed. What can go wrong?

…

…

…

Bec’s still slipping, sliding backwards in the mud, the Half-Orc following him down, in no hurry- grinning. Eventually the Barbarian comes to rest against one of the standing stones; he braces himself to prevent further progress down the hill.

“Any last words?”

The Half-Orc draws to a halt and then bites off in broken Common.

“Lots of them, lots of them.”

Bec mumbles. The Half-Orc shrugs and surges towards him.

Bec can’t shift his sword; the guard is caught, wedged between his body and the standing stone.

He wrestles to try and get the thing free- it’s stuck fast.

There’s nothing for it, he closes his eyes…

THUNK-CHHHHHHH

Then opens them again. The Half-Orc’s face is only inches from his, close enough to feel the creature’s breath, his last one. Bec looks down, the thing is impaled on the blade of his sword, which hasn’t moved, still stuck- braced against the standing stone. Behind the huge creature are two huge gouges in the mud, the place where it slipped and slid, at great speed, into the aforementioned blade, impaling itself.

DMs Interlude- a “1” for the Half-Orc, followed by a Natural ‘20’ for Bec. Life sucks.

“Hey Anya.”

The Wizard looks over.

“I like you”, Bec calls back, and then to fill the silence, “a lot”, the Barbarian grins like an eight year old who’s cottoned on to the fact that he’s eight and can therefore, more-or-less, get away with anything. He winks for good measure.

Ala looks over; she’s bent at work on the Paladin.

Newt shuffles over into the circle.

“What happened to the strong silent type?” He stares at Bec.
“Done that. Didn’t work.” Bec replies.
“Are you alright Bec?” Cas sits up as Ala sets to work on Jim.
“Never felt better boss man. Clear as a bell.” Bec taps the side of his head, then folds his arms and stares at the Paladin.
Cas nods.

And right on queue Jim awakes.

Bec is quickly over to him, a hand on his shoulder.

“I love you Jim.” He murmurs, “but not like girls”, the Barbarian adds for clarity.

Next Turn: The story so far.


----------



## Goonalan

Saga of the Dragon Cult
Interlude 1
Intrigue at the Standing Stones
Scaled for level 3​
Turn 84: The story so far.

The Gang are healed up and cleaned up. And back in Tetnee, supping fine ales and wines courtesy of the Wise Woman and Thistle, it seems prohibition is not something the nature worshippers have any truck with.

As to the mystery in the Druid Circle, well the juries out still…

“They were clearly up to no good” Bec offers.
“Hmmm.” Thistle agrees, “and you said that you thought the crows were there to take a message?”
Cas nods, “the Half-Orc said something to them before they left.”
“But what, that’s the mystery. And the three fingered pendants?”

Newt hands the Half-Orc’s pendant over, he only had it for safe keeping you understand.

Thistle examines the thing, “odd, but not unexplainable.”

Silence.

“What are they then?” Anya asks, worried she’s missed something.

“Very primitive, Tsathzar Rho.” Thistle adds.

Silence.

“Tsathzar… Row? What the hell is that?” Anya requires information.
“Tsathzar Rho is a dead cult, or so I thought, he was a Sorcerer or a Wizard, a meddler… anyway, it is said he attempted to call the Outer Gods to do his bidding.”
“Outer Gods.” Newt smirks and plays with the phrase.
“The Gatekeeper ignorant Gnome, the Outer Ones, creatures able to twist and shape the fabric of space itself.” Thistle lurks over to Newt who takes to examining his boots, in detail. 

“Well… What happened?” Anya’s back on track.
“Oh. Nothing. Well he disappeared, Tsathzar Rho, vanished… now here’s the thing, I think he got his wish, I think he got to meet the Outer Ones…” Thistle grins.
“They took him didn’t they, the Outer Gods, this Gatekeeper.” Anya states.
Thistle nods, “that’s it, that’s right, good girl.”
Anya sneers and then grins, settling for the complement.

“Now here’s the bonus question- in the process the Outer Gods got more than they bargained for…”

Anya thinks about it- hard. Jim’s a little lost, he thinks about Mischa, and grins. Bec whispers to Newt about the size and contents of the sandwich he’s going to get when this meeting breaks up. Newt nods with relish. Cas and Ala try to keep up, but have no answers.

“I don’t know, damn. Something he took with him?” Anya guesses.
“Yessssss, well sort of, they found the trail he left”, and when that doesn’t work, “You see?”

“No.” Cas tries his luck.
“The trail…” Thistle tries again.
“To here.” Anya states confidently.
Thistle nods.

“Then they’re coming here?” Jim asks, as if in a dream.
Thistle nods again, “and I think some of their friends have caught on, preparing the way so to speak- terrifying isn’t it?” Thistle grins.

“Wh… What are we going to do?” Bec is finally listening, they’re all listening now.

“That’s the question?” Thistle states and folds his tree trunk arms, “What are you going to do?”

The silence stretches for a while.

“What’s this then?” Bec holds up the Half-Orc’s weapon, it feels dirty, greasy in his hands.
“Now that, that I don’t know- never seen one like it before.” Thistle examines the weapon, hesitates to touch it.
“It feels… funny, funny bad, not funny good.” Bec brings clarity.
“Get rid of it.” Cas states, and shivers.
“I suggest you leave that with me.” The Wise Woman breaks her silence, “I’ll see what I can find out, someone must have made it, it’s aura is… confused, certainly malevolent. Put it in the sack.”
Bec does as he’s told.

A little later, after sandwiches, and silence the meeting breaks up.

Three days later the Gang head home to Grimbo, Khan’s not there to greet them, probably hiding under a rock somewhere, life is… life is back to normal.

Cas asks around, at least he and Ala talk to Father Whiskin but the old Priest just shrugs his shoulders, he’s never heard of Tsathzar Rho.

The Gang meet up regularly, there’s talk of consulting a Sage- trying to find out more information, Anya is reluctant, and for the moment holds sway, she doesn’t want the information to get out. The fact that the sky is falling in and they’re the only ones that know about it somehow sounds like a secret worth keeping.

She does a lot of reading, mostly for nothing; references to Tsathzar Rho are few and far between, even her teacher at Grimbo College, Professor Nudge Toomes has only heard of Tsathzar Rho, but in connection with what, he’s unsure; the few enquiries she makes are met with blank stares.

Time passes, fruitlessly.

Next Turn: Catch up, again.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 85: Catch up, again.

“Jim” Bowen

Human Male Ranger Level 3 
NG HP 35 AC 19 Init +2
Str 14 Dex 15 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 12 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +6 Ref +5 Will +3
+1 Battleaxe (family heirloom) +6 d8+3 
Longbow (Masterwork Mighty (+2)) +7 d8+2 or Rapid Fire +5/+5  
Dagger, Silver +5 or +5 d4+2
Armour: Griffin insignia Masterwork Breastplate and Large Masterwork Wooden Shield.

Feats: Skill Focus (Trapmaking), Point Blank Shot, Track, Favoured Enemy- Dire Animals, Ranger Two-Weapon Fighting & Ambidexterity, Rapid Shot, Weapon Focus Longbow. 

Skills of note: Animal Empathy +4 Climb +5 Craft (Trapmaking) +6 Handle Animal +4 Hide +7 Jump +6 Knowldege (Nature) +3 Listen +5 Move Silently +6 Search +3 Spot +3 Wilderness Lore +6

Items of note: Potion Cure Lt x4; Potion Darkvision; Cloak of Resistance +1, 20 Silver Arrows, Vial of Antitoxin, Potion Spider Climb, Potion of Love, Potion Cure Moderate, 10 Sunrods.

Light Warhorse “Sarge” & associated kit and caboodle.

Bec

Human Male Barbarian Level 3
CG HP 46 AC 17 Init +1
Str 18 Dex 12 Con 18 Int 11 Wis 8 Ch 9 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +2 Will 0
Mighty (+4) Masterwork Composite Longbow +5 d8+4
+1 Dagger of Wounding +8 or +5 d4+5
Greatclub +7 d10+6
Longsword Masterwork +8 d8+4 (usually with Buckler +1)
Greatsword Masterwork Cold Iron +8 2d6+6
Armour: Studded Leather Masterwork, Buckler +1, Bracers of Armour +1.

Feats: Toughness, Power Attack, Rage, Cleave, Uncanny Dodge & Greater Cleave.

Skills of note: Climb +10 Concentration +4 Jump +9 Listen +3 Ride +3 Spot +3 Swim +9 Use Rope +4 Wilderness Lore +3

Items of note: Climbers Kit, Wax Balls of Cure Lt x3, Potion Blur, Potion of Cure Moderate, Bracers of Armour +1.

Heavy Warhorse “Kaul” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Lord Casimir

Human Male Paladin of Pelor Level 3 
LG HP 33 AC 19 Init +1
Str 15 Dex 13 Con 14 Int 14 Wis 11 Ch 14 
Saves Fort +7 Ref +4 Will +5
+1 Longsword Cold Iron +6 d8+3 
Longbow +4 d8 
Light Mace +5 d6+2
Armour: Shiny Breastplate +1 & Sparkling Large Masterwork Steel Shield

Feats: Negotiator, Dodge, Mobility, Detect Evil, Lay on Hands, Divine Health, Smite Evil, Aura of Courage, Remove Disease, Turn Undead, Spring Attack.

Skills of note: Concentration +4 Diplomacy +11 Handle Animal +6 Heal +3 Knowledge (History) +5 Knowledge (Local) +8 Knowledge (Religion) +6 Ride +5 Sense Motive +6 Spot +4 

Items of note: 3 Flasks of Holy Water, 5 Silver Arrows, Horn of Good, Potion of Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion of Vision, Potion of Haste, Healing Kit.

Light Warhorse “Reggie” & associated kit and caboodle.


Anya’Drea

Human Female Wizard Level 3 
CG HP 18 AC 15 Init +5
Str 10 Dex 13 Con 12 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 17 
Saves Fort +2 Ref +2 Will +3
+1 Quarterstaff  +2 d6+1 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +3 d8
Dagger Coral Masterwork Keen +2 or +3 d4
Armour: Leather Armour, Ring of Protection +1, Bracers of Armour +1

Feats: Skill Focus (Use Magic Device), Armour Proficiency (Light), Improved Initiative, Scribe Scroll, Toughness, Brew Potion. 

Skills of note: Alchemy +6 Appraise +3 Bluff +3 Concentrate +7 Craft (Model) +3 Decipher Script +7 Diplomacy +3 Disguise +3 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +5 Intimidate +3 Knowledge (Arcane) +9 Knowledge (Architecture & Engineering) +4 Knowledge (Geography) +4 Knowledge (History) +4 Knowledge (Nature) +4 Knowledge (Nobility & Royalty) +4 Knowledge (The Planes) +4 Knowledge (Religion) +4 Listen +4 Move Silently +3 Perform (Vogue) +3 Scry +5 Search +3 Spellcraft +9 Use Magic Device +10

Familiar, actually Follower (of sorts) Swish, Animated Broom.

Spells: 	Lvl 0 (4) All; 
Lvl 1 (4) Shield, Mage Armour, Mount, Dummon Monster I, Unseen Servant, Detect Secret Doors, Detect Undead, Identify, Magic Missile, Colour Spray, Cause Fear, Expeditious Retreat, Shocking Grasp, Spider Climb, Charm Person, Sleep.
Lvl 2 (2) Fog Cloud, Scare, Spectral Hand, Darkvision, Endurance, Knock, Rope Trick.

Items of note: Scrolls- not so many of them as before, Wand of Burning Hands (Level 3- 13 Charges); Potion Cure Lt. x4, Potion Cure Moderate, Potion of Intelligence, Pearl of Power (lvl 1), Necklace of Fireballs Type I, 2 Bags of Caltrops; 6 Tindertwigs, 10 Sunrods.

“Swish” Animated Broom companion AC15 Mv30 Init+2 +1 Slam d4 Hardness 5 Fort +0 Ref +2 Will -5

Light Warhorse “Mr. Fizz” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Newt

Gnome Male Rogue Level 3
NG HP 22 AC 19 Init +3
Str 11 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 16 Wis 11 Ch 10 
Saves Fort +3 Ref +6 Will +3
Heavy Mace Masterwork +4 d6 
Light Crossbow Masterwork +7 d6
+1 Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) of Spell Storing (Shocking Grasp D8+2) +4 D4+1
Adamantine Ceremonial Dagger (wielded as Shortsword) +3 D4
Dagger Masterwork Silver +4 or +7 d3
Armour: +1 Chain Shirt

Feats: Nimble Fingers, Low Light Vision, +1 To Hit vs. Goblinoids and Kobolds, +4 Dodge vs. Giants, Point Blank Shot, Evasion, Rapid Shot.

Skills of note: Alchemy +10 Appraise +5 Balance +8 Climb +5 Craft (Locksmith) +6 Decipher Script +5 Disable Device +10 Escape Artist +4 Forgery +3 Gather Info +3 Hide +11 Intimidate +3 Jump +5 (+35 with Ring of Jumping) Listen +8 Move Silently +9 Open Lock +11 Pick Pocket +4 Read Lips +5 Ride (Pony) +3 Scry +3 Search +9 Spot +6 Tumble +5 Use Rope +3

Spells: Ghost Sound, Dancing Lights, Prestidigitation & Speak with Burrowing Animals.

Items of note: Silk Climbing Rope, 10 Tindertwigs, 3 Thunderstones, 2 Tanglefoot bags, 10 Sunrods, 2 Smoke Sticks, 5 Alchemist’s Fire, Thieves Tools Masterwork, 10 Silver tipped Bolts, 20 Masterwork Bolts, 3 Flasks of Acid, 4 Shell Shuriken of Crushing, Potion Cure Lt x4, Potion Spider Climb x2, Potion Invisibility, Ring of Jumping, Ring of Minor Sonic Resistance.

War Pony “Dobbin” & associated kit and caboodle, including Studded Leather Barding.

Ala

Elf Female Cleric Level 3 
NG HP 26 AC 21 Init +3
Str 14 Dex 17 Con 12 Int 10 Wis 17 Ch 13 
Saves Fort +4 Ref +4 Will +6
Longsword Masterwork +6 d8+2
Composite Longbow Masterwork Mighty (+2) +6 d8+2
Dagger Silver +4 or +5 d4+2
+1 Dagger +5 or +6 d4+3
Masterwork Heavy Mace +5 d8+2 
Armour: Chain Shirt Masterwork, Large Masterwork Steel Shield & Ring of Protection +2

Feats: Point Blank Shot, Weapon Focus (Longsword), Turn Undead (4/day), Extra Turning.

Skills of note: Balance +3 Concentration +4 Diplomacy +3 Escape Artist +3 Heal +8 Hide +3 Listen +5 Move Silently +3 Ride (Horse) +3 Sense Motive +3 Spot +5 Use Rope +3 Wilderness Lore +3

Spells: Lvl 0 (4) Lvl 1 (5) Lvl 2 (3)
Domains: War & Good.

Items of note: 2 Healer’s Kits, Scroll Protection from Elements, Potion Cure Light Wounds x4, Potion Cure Moderate Wounds, Scroll Hold Person & Deeper Darkness and a few others, Vial of Silversheen, Pearl of Power (lvl 1), Ring of Whispering Wind (10).

Light Riding Horse “Slim” & associated kit and caboodle.

Next Turn: To the Tower.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 86: To the Tower.

Nudge Toomes, Professor of… well almost everything, leading light in the Department of Magics at Grimbo College, and sometime mentor to Anya, the pair relax in his cosy office.

“Of course there’s still one possibility, but it’s a long shot.”
“Tell me.” Anya leans forward in her comfy chair.
“The Wizard Balthazhar, one of my predecessors, of sorts, he left Grimbo about a century ago, they say he knew about, well… everything. He did a lot of work with the Watch also, which may help you with some of your other problems- I hear you’re all very unpopular.”
“So there’s a history of the Watch getting other people to do their dirty work for them.” Anya frowns.
“I should say so- that’s how they work, shift the blame if need be, grab the glory if there’s any going.” The Professor smiles back at his apt pupil.

Anya thinks about it a while.

“So who’s Balthazhar, where can I find him, 125 years ago- that’s an awful long time, is he even alive?”
“No. No, he’s very dead.”
“Then how can I possibly ask him questions- if he’s dead?”
“That my child is the hard part. Listen.”

Anya leans closer in; the Professor looks left and right, like he’s about to tell Anya some big secret.

“You have of course heard of the Wizard’s Tower?”
Anya nods.
Professor Nudge Toomes smiles and leans back, conspiracy over.
“That’s him.”

Anya suddenly sits up, “the Ghost in the Tower?”
Nudge nods, and grins. “You just have to free him; that might make him grateful.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible my girl, haven’t you learnt that yet. Certainly many others have tried, and for less honourable reasons, they say Balthazhar hid a fortune in gold and magic in his Tower, if all you want are some answers to your questions then who’s to say he won’t see fit to share his findings with you.”
“Others have tried- to get the gold.”
“Tried and failed. Have you ever failed?”
“Not yet.” Anya whispers back, “not yet.”
“Do you even want the gold?” 
“No, I mean it’d be nice, but I want answers.” Anya grimaces.

Nudge leans back in his sagging old armchair, smiles.
“Then my advice to you is simple, don’t fail- you have questions, Balthazhar may have the answers.”

Time ticks by, Nudge continues to grin at Anya, certain that she has already made her decision.

“The question then is what’s keeping you in Grimbo?”
“Nothing.” Anya mutters and looks away, “nothing, nothing at all.” 

“Then have a safe journey.”

The Professor heaves himself out of his chair and heads off to potter about a bit, leaving Anya alone with her thoughts, the fire spits and crackles behind her.

Six days later the Goodman Gang stride over a low hill and down into a rocky valley towards a range of craggy foothills, beyond the foothills nameless black spires pierce the clouds, the village of Ghoul lies hidden within the peaks, the village of the Damned, or so its said.

But the Goodman Gang are not going there, at least not now.

Their target is a little closer, only half a mile or so down the valley, across rugged scrublands not yet tamed by man.

In the last six days the Gang have ridden hard, although each night with the promise of fresh clean beds ahead of them. Tonight they’ll have to make do with a camp fire and the Mysterious Tower, home and prison to the ghost of the Wizard Balthazhar.

The Gang have made there way through Lacey and on to K-Stor, from there on through Bigg and to Skinthorpe, the final leg of their journey taking them to the village of Growl, and the Red Lion Inn, there they left their mounts in Bungo’s Stables. 

It’s but a short walk to the fabled tower, or so the lad at the Inn told them, he may have been lying.

“My feet hurt.” Newt states.
“Stop complaining, we’ve all walked the same distance.” Ala chides.
“But I have to walk two steps, at least, to your one- I’ve travelled twice as far.”
“It doesn’t work like that Newt.”
“It feels like it does.” The Gnome sulks away, back to the rear of the Gang.

And so here they come, with only a few hours of daylight left, the trek has taken twice as long as they expected, it’ll be getting dark soon, they need to find some shelter.

They trudge on, the Tower’s close now, they can’t see it yet- but Anya can feel it, the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, there’s a storm brewing.

Finally the Gang crest the last hill and there before them is the Mysterious Tower. Made of gleaming white marble; perfectly preserved amidst the ruins of an ancient keep. A shimmering blue force field surrounds the Tower, encasing it from ground level to its summit; it extends out mere inches from the walls. Newt can see something flitting about between the force field and the tower – it’s the ghost of the Wizard Balthazhar, according to Anya’s story. Newt hawks and spits, a bad taste in his mouth, he trudges on.

The ruins are old stones of granite, pulverized by years of neglect and occupation. Newt can still make out the basic outline of the ruined, four-cornered keep; the perfectly preserved tower is startling by comparison.

What’s that, the Gnome raises a hand, the others quickly stop and crouch ready for action.

“Something’s coming.”
“What?” Cas scans ahead.
“Beetles.” Newt remembers them well from his time in the desert, “big ones, three of them.”
“Heads up, missiles to the fore- time for action.” Cas swings into motion, the others hurry to obey, it’s a well oiled machine at times.

Six feet long with shining black carapaces, that’s them alright, the same as in the desert, Newt’s not going to get caught out twice.

FWUNG

A volley of missiles, but only Anya’s crossbow bolt is true, it gouges a deep gash in the side of one of the creatures causing it to lag dramatically, it struggles to keep up, the lead pair however apply a little more fuel to the fire, they’re closing the gap very quickly.

“MELEE.” Cas orders, the Gang ditch missile weapons and ready the big guns.

The Giant Bombadier Beetles scuttle into the action.

Ala and Jim leap at the first of them, Ala’s flashing longsword is turned aside by the creatures jet black carapace, Jim’s axe however finds a weak spot, a gout of yellow ichor erupts from the rent in the Beetles side.

Bec and Cas lurch towards the second Beetle, before Cas can even aim his blow, Bec leaps in and smashes his greatsword down onto the creature, which is almost split in two, such is the ferocity of the attack.

But Bec’s not done yet, he spins and steps back, dances a half-circle, which leaves him just to the rear of the first Beetle.

SMASH.

It’s dead too.

Which just leaves.

“Pelor…” The squeaky voice is Newt’s, a frontal assault this time, it seems he has a score to settle, the final Beetle wanders into a world of pain, it is however short lived, Newt smashes his mace down into the Beetles brain, the customary yellow ichor erupts, the Beetle twitches a little and then expires.

“Feckers.” Newt spits, and grins.

And is instantly gripped by a smiling, almost laughing Bec, the Barbarian hugs the Gnome to him, lifting Newt clean off the floor.

“That feels better, doesn’t it?” The wordy Barbarian grins, then remembers his place and lets the Gnome down.

“Well that went rather well, here’s hoping the rest of it will be that easy. Come on.” Cas strides on, the others wreathed in smiles, follow after.

And less than a minute later enter the ruins proper.

The Gang stand in the courtyard of what was once a powerful keep, now nothing more than weathered ruins. In the south-western corner of the courtyard, behind them and to their left, is an overgrown apple orchard, tangled by weeds and years of neglect. On the northern half of the west wall, is the still-standing stone foundation of what looks to be ruined stables. Continuing clockwise is the battered remains of a much smaller and better constructed building, obviously the officer’s quarters, in the north-eastern corner. Further round still, along the southern half of the east wall, is a larger, similar looking building, probably once the barracks of the common soldiery, now ruined.

But none of this draws the Gang’s attention so much as the Mysterious Tower in the dead centre of the destroyed keep. Built of the whitest marble and still in pristine condition, it is a mere fifteen feet wide and rises just thirty feet in the air. There are no doors or windows. Completely encasing the tower is a shimmering blue force field roughly six inches from the wall.

Anya’s gaze wanders across the tower; she spots a flicker of movement at its apex. Suddenly a gruesome looking Ghost flits from behind the structure. The Spirit is clearly trapped behind the force field, but that doesn’t stop it from fixing its gaze upon her, the Ghost of Balthazhar the Wizard moans, the sound- like a death knell.

Which causes all of the Goodman Gang to take a step back, except one.

Cas strides closer to the Tower, more or less oblivious to the noise, he stands there, hands on his hips, staring intently at the spirit.

“We come in peace.” Cas waves at the Ghost.

“Oh Pelor, he’s so embarrassing at times.” Ala can’t watch.

“Can you hear me? We mean you no harm.” Cas turns back to grin at his audience, he gives a thumbs up sign to Ala, who smiles back- weakly, then hides her face when the Paladin turns back to the tower.

The Priestess of Correllon shakes her head, muttering, “so embarrassing.”

“We are here to free you.” Cas announces, grins at the Ghost Wizard, and tries a two thumbs up signal for good measure.

The Ghost ceases its flitting, hovers, halfway up, halfway down the Tower.

Slowly.

Ever-so slowly.

It raises both hands.

And for some unknown reason makes a double thumbs up gesture back.

Which makes the Paladin smile, he turns back to share his grin with his compatriots. “I think he understands”, the Paladin nods for emphasis, “this should be a piece of cake”, Cas winks at his compatriots.

Then turns back, and pronounces every word, as if he were talking to a foreigner.

“STAY THERE.”

The Ghost of Balthazhar looks sharp left, then right, he has about six inches of play between the walls of the Tower and the shimmering blue force field, Balthazhar shrugs and looks cross-eyed at the Paladin- bloody adventurers, where else is he going to go?

Next Turn: Scrumping for beginners.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Still loving this, Goonalan.    Keep it coming.


----------



## Goonalan

You're mad, however I thank you.

And so...

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 87: Scrumping for beginners.

Ala meanwhile wanders away, unable to bear any more of Cas’ conversation, he’s just so… so… simple at times. Practical- maybe, even. Boring, actually often- more than he thinks, anyway.

There’s an apple on the ground, she reaches down and picks it up.

She looks up; she’s wandered into the overgrown orchard, it’s tangled and dark in here, a little spooky. She can see some semblance of order in the way the trees are planted, but they have since grown far beyond their allotted rows. Brambles twist underfoot, vines hang from the tree branches, she can see the husk of a dead beetle beneath one of the trees – there’s a glimmer of metal amidst the underbrush, she moves further in to investigate.

“ALA.” It’s Jim calling.
She turns to face the Ranger who has a clear line of sight to her, just through the tangle and the fading light.
“Yes.” She calls back
“Don’t go too…”

Ala is suddenly dragged out of sight.

“ALA?” Jim calls.
“Hel…” Is all the Priestess manages.

A huge vine suddenly springs to life, it attempts to snake around her hips, to grab her, thankfully Ala’s too quick, she escapes the plant, draws her longsword, in one swift motion, and then slices down severing the tip of the attacking liana.

“JIM- HELP.”

The Ranger is already on his way.

The grass beneath her feet, the briars and bushes reach out for her, grasp her, clutch her- wrap themselves around the lower legs of the Priestess.

“JIM. JIM- I’M STUCK.”

The Ranger is on the spot in seconds, the undergrowth is straining to snag Jim, but he’s wise to it, he’s in perpetual motion.

He grabs Ala and begins to drag her back, in the same instant a larger liana snakes out and reaches for its prey, the Priestess is unable to get away, the vine curves around her waist and tightens- crushing the life out of her.

“AaaaaaaRggJIM.”

Behind the pair the other members of the Goodman Gang come running- hacking their way through the overgrown undergrowth.

Anya’s Mage Armour shimmers as the others break through; Jim’s still wrestling the vine, trying to loosen its grip, all to no avail.

FWUNG

Newt buries a crossbow bolt in the base of the vine, as far away from Ala as he can, he doesn’t want to miss.

“JIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM.”

Ala screams again, accompanied by the cracking sound of breaking ribs, she hovers on the edge of consciousness; it’s going very badly, very quickly.

“Got it.”

Newt cartwheels into the action, comes up beneath the vine grasping Ala, he’s spotted something- it takes a second for him to get his aim.

FWUNG

The crossbow bolt thumps into a central stalk, the heart of the Assassin Vine, a mixture of blood and sap spews from the rupture, the effect is instant, the liana wrapped around Ala coils back, Jim grabs the Priestess as she falls, drags her back out.

“BACK. BACK.”

The Ranger screams, Cas dodges in cuts another probing liana clean in two, then falls back like the Ranger ordered.

They’re back in the clearing, in the centre of the ruins. Ala mutters prayers, heals her wounds, a little embarrassed, a lot shaken.

“You can’t be going off on your own.” Cas warns her.
“I was with her.” Jim volunteers, and shares a look with Ala.
“It’s dangerous.” Cas finishes.
“I know that now”, Ala mutters, then quieter, “sorry.”
“Good. Just be careful, I can’t be there to rescue you all the time.” The Paladin can’t resist having the last word.

By the look on Ala’s face he’s going to regret his compulsion.

“Right then, let’s clear the surface structures, see what we find- remember we’re looking for a way into the Tower.” Cas leads them off, towards the shattered stables.

“Jerk”, Ala offers when Cas is far enough away to not hear, which makes Jim grin.

The stable is, or rather was, a long, low building, the stone columns on the corners still stand, as do some of the rafters, some of the roof is still intact. There are no signs of life however.

Cas motions to Newt, who shrugs bobs down and scuttles in, then back out again at double-speed. A squeaking cloud of bats twirls and swirls from the exit- take wing and flap off to find somewhere quieter to rest.

Newt smiles up at his audience, shrugs his shoulders and heads back in.

Thirty seconds later.

“It’s safe, come and have a look.”

The others head on in.

The darkness rushes away as sunrods are sparked into life, there’s a hole, a very large hole in the corner of the building, leading down, a gentle slope.

“Wait there.”

Jim rushes over, crouches low to the ground, and investigates.

“Paw prints, big, wide- heavy, a bear? Perhaps more than one- whatever it is it weighs a ton. We should try the other buildings before we head down there.”

The Ranger points down the dark hole, Cas sees the sense of it, leads the Gang back out, and on- to the shell of one of the keeps towers, previously hidden from sight, behind the Mysterious Tower.

Jim holds up his hand, crouches, the others follow suit- the Ranger points, there’s something in there.

It’s another Beetle, this one much bigger, its ten-foot-long carapace pokes through the rubble. A gigantic pair of mandibles protrude from the end opposite, they clack and taste the air. The Giant Stag Beetle is half-hidden, dug into the rubble.

A whispered conversation takes place.

“It’s very big.” Newt gulps.
“It’s in the way- I want to check that tower out, we have to shift it.” Cas states.
“Its shell- it must be six inches thick.”
“Thanks Ala.” Cas sees fit to put her down again.
“Then let’s do it properly, three with missiles; then me, you and Bec pile in- smash what’s left of it.” Jim offers.
“Good plan.” The Paladin concurs.
“It’s very big though.” Newt gulps again, “I hate Beetles”, the Gnome whispers.

And so it is, Newt, Anya and Ala ready missile weapons, the warriors stand ready, and when Jim signals crossbows and bows sing.

The result is devastating.

FWUNG

Newt’s crossbow bolt pierces the shell seemingly without resistance, the entire missile passes into the creature, a gout of filthy ichor signals the impact.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

The Giant Stag Beetle doesn’t seem to be very happy, it lumbers round, shedding stone and mortar as it attempts to turn and face its foes.

It gets half-way.

FWUNGCRUNCH

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Anya crossbow bolt does the job, smashes into the creature’s right eye, completely obliterates the oracle, that’s enough for the Beetle, it kicks up a cloud of dust as it flees the scene.

SPUNG

Not fast enough, Ala’s arrow smashes into the side of the creature, a huge rent in its black armour opens up.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

It’s off and running, never coming back.

Leaving the three warriors with nothing to do, except check the area the Beetle so recently vacated- there’s nothing to be found, just the remains of the fallen tower.

“Move on.” Cas signals them forward again, to easily the most complete and stable looking of the ruined buildings.

The stone-framed Officer’s Quarters is relatively intact, though severely damaged, through the doorway Cas notes the piles of shattered furniture that choke the room, there are two open doorways leading off from the first chamber.

“Newt.” 
The Gnome shakes his head, then grins, and quietly, no silently, heads on in, through the wreckage, it’s a good job he’s small.

The first chamber was once some sort of office, the remains of a desk, several chairs, a bench- nothing else really of interest, except perhaps the odd gold coin that the Rogue manages to somehow, almost magically, locate.

The Gnome signals thumbs up, all is well, then points to a doorway, and heads on in.

The second chamber is a bedroom, the remains of a bed and a wardrobe make this obvious, it takes a further two minutes to search the chamber.

Outside the other members of the Gang wait with baited breath, finally the Gnome emerges back into the twilight, shakes his head, points at the remaining doorway, and then creeps on through it.

The final chamber is some form of storeroom, or walk in closet, either way it’s a mess, but…

Newt moves over, further in, peers down at the floor- there’s another hole, man-size, a ladder attached to the wall leads down into the gloom, it looks safe, sniff, but it smells.

Newt heads back to report his find, the way down, certainly not the gold he’s found.

“I still thing we ought to check out all of the surface buildings first, I don’t want us bottled up down there with nasties roaming over out heads- that would be like walking into a trap.” Cas argues. With no one as it turns out, the others concur.

“Let’s get it done then, the light’s getting worse every minute.”
Cas nods back, the Gang move off quickly, Newt’s spotted something, “there.”

The Gnome scurries off, the others come tumbling after.

Alas a little too quick, it’s another hole, this one much bigger, much deeper, and straight down.

Cas loses his footing on the slick earth, kicks air, he stumbles forward, still not in control, and falls over the lip of the pit…

Next Turn: Don’t press it.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 88: Don’t press it.

THUNG

The Paladin hits something, something small and hard to see, particularly in the twilight.

“OOOOF.”

Whatever it is it thumps the wind out of him.

Cas slips and fumbles, and falls again…

And is left dangling in mid-air clutching onto, well… who knows.

The Paladin kicks his legs, manages to hang on to whatever it he’s clutching with his hands.

“What’s keeping him up?” Jim enquires, to open-mouthed stares.
“Magic?” Newt wonders.

“I’m holding onto a rod.” Cas shouts over, one hand slips, flails and then grabs back up and onto the rod.

“What’s the rod holding onto?” Jim shouts back.
“Well I never…” Newt grins and quickly swallows down a Potion of Spider Climbing, “I’ll be a Monkey’s Uncle”, an expression of amazement back in Lowth.
“What is it?” Anya asks.
“Hang on.” Ala screams at Cas, and is instantly shushed by the crowd.

“Err… People. People. I’m about to fall.” Cas states.

The Gang stop to watch.

Cas falls.

“OOOOOOOOOF.”

Onto another rod.

He has a better grip this time.

“I’m coming over.” Newt plays out a line of rope, gives the end to Bec, presses a lit sunrod into his belt and leaps into the unknown.

Actually he grasps the rod perfectly, performs a brief loop, and settles squatting on the the thin metal rod.

“There’s a button, on the rod, should I press…”
“Don’t press the button.” Newt shouts at the paladin, he’s very definite.

“Oh, ok.” Cas nods, and then nearly loses his grips, he scrabbles and flails for a while before grabbing back on.

“Don’t press the button, really Cas, just don’t.”
Below him the Paladin nods.

“Bec, lower me down.”

Slowly Newt is let down, the rope over the first rod, which acts like a brace, he’s to the Paladin, and in seconds has looped the rope twice around Cas’ waist.

“He’s good to go.” Newt shouts up.

Bec hauls and a waving Paladin departs the hole.

A minute later Cas is topside and back in control of the situation.

“I said I’ll be a minute.” Newt’s voice echoes from the depths, it’s clear he’s going down and not up.

“Newt, come back here… Newt.” Cas calls back and stamps his foot, the soft soil shifts and slides, the Paladin scrabbles back, reddens.

“NEWT.” He calls again.

But the Gnome is gone, well actually…

Newt grips to what appears to be the last, the fourth, Immovable Rod, what a find. The Gnome looks down, as best he can, gently swaying- the cavern below is circular, there seem to be exits, it’s difficult to get his bearings. He can see the floor is thick with a living carpet, a myriad type of fungi, one for every occasion.

Funny there’s a spot to his right that seems to have been trampled flat.

Newt swings up, at lightning speed, presses the button of the last rod, which causes it to come lose in his hand, and catches onto the rod above, he repeats the operation- three more times, the last leap depositing him back on the surface and bowing low before the crowd.

Bec, Ala, Anya and Jim go to applaud.

The only thing stopping them is Cas’ face. The Paladin taps his foot on the ground, arms folded, “Well?”
“Well what?” Newt replies.
“You heard what I said to Ala earlier”, which, again, is the wrong thing to say, “you can’t just go wandering off on your own young man.”
“Who do you think you are, my Mum?”
“For the purpose of this adventure, yes.” Cas chides.
“What? Hang on- did you just call me ‘young man’?”
“Yes, well… what I meant…”
“Well for a start I’m not a man, a HU-man, I’m a Gnome, it’s not me that goes falling down holes needing to be rescued, you great clod-hopper.”
“Well that’s as may…”
“And furthermore, how old are you?”
“What does that matter?” Cas looks sheepish.
“How old?”
“I’ll be twenty-two in three months.”
“Right then, I’ll be fifty next week, so screw you sonny.”

Newt wanders off, muttering.

Then suddenly turns on his heals.

“Do you know what these are?” Newt holds up the four rods.
“No. Not really.”
“Not really?” Its Newt’s turn to chide.
“Well, no. Not at all, really- I mean I saw what they were doing in the hole, but…”
“But what?”
“But no, not really, I don’t know what they do, oh fiddlesticks, what do they do Newt?”

Newt holds one of the rods in the air.

“These are called Immovable Rods, there’s a second-story guy in The Nunny, he uses one of these, and he’s the best in the business.”
“So?”
“So what these do is somehow, when you press the button in, they connect with the air- the stay in place, they’re called Immovable Rods, you can hang off them, use them as steps- whatever.”
“What’s your point?” Cas is just being surly now, everyone else can see Newt’s point.
“My point is, Lord, they may come in useful, like they did earlier- for saving your fat ass.” Newt spits back.

The two move closer, square up, the Gang close in should the need arise to separate the pair.

“Oh, and the other thing is, the second-story guy, he paid three thousand gold for his, for just one of these. One-Two-Three-Four, Hey Presto- we’re rich.”

Newt shakes the rods in the air to make his point.

“Now watch.”

He grabs the first rod again. Strategically places it in the air, presses the button and hauls himself…

Falls on his backside.

Newt scrambles up quickly, attempts to repeat the trick, he does- with same results. He tries one rod after another.

“There magic’s spent, not a trace.” Anya remarks, her Detect magic spell tells her this is so.

It goes quiet.

Newt keeps trying- the rods are not working however.

Eventually Cas breaks the silence, he giggles, attempts to turn the laugh into a yawn, it only makes it worse.

“Right, that’s it, I’m off home.”

Newt turns and stomps off.

“Anya, go after him.” The Wizard stares at Cas, “Please Anya.”
She nods and heads over to the Gnome who is at present kicking stones in random directions, cursing all the while under his breath.

“Come on; let’s check the rest of this place out- quickly.” Cas leads Ala, Jim and Bec off towards what was obviously the main barracks.

The wood framed building is now completely destroyed. The Gang can barely make out the outline of where the walls once stood. There’s a jumble of smashed and rotten furniture inside, a swift inspection reveals nothing of interest.

The four adventurers move on, past Anya and Newt sitting together, whispering to each other, looking up to stare at Cas every now and then.

The last area to be inspected is another ruined corner of the keep where a sturdy tower once stood, the bodies of several dead rats litter the place, otherwise it’s empty.

They wander back, congregate again- the light’s almost gone.

“We’d better get below.” Jim states.
Newt looks up at the Ranger.
“Newt.” But before the Ranger can finish the Gnome is on his way, back over to the Officer’s Quarters and to the trapdoor and ladder in the storeroom.

Thirty seconds later Newt’s sunrod chases away the dark, he descends.

“It smells- bad.” Newt whispers back up, and then heads off cautiously.

Newt leaves the sunrod a little way from the ladder; the shadows are more conducive to his type of work, then heads on, down a 50-foot long hallway which ends in a dank, dark 30-by-50-foot room, which clearly used to be a jail. The stone walls are well built and reinforced, obviously designed by a master builder. On each side of the room are two barred jail cells. The two closest are only small, 10-by-10 cubicles, while the farther cells are much bigger, they must measure 20-by-20. The bars to each cell are bent and rusted; either something broke out, or else broke in.

Then…

“Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,
Guess I'll go and eat worms,
Long, thin, slimy ones; Short, fat, juicy ones,
Itsy, bitsy, fuzzy wuzzy worms.

Down goes the first one, down goes the second one,
Oh how they wiggle and squirm.
Up comes the first one, up comes the second one,
Oh how they wiggle and squirm.”

Newt stops short, a shadowy lump lurches into his vision, whatever it is its big, and has One-Two-Three legs, and One-Two-Three arms.

Newt’s out of there.

And in less than ten seconds back at the ladder, a couple of seconds later, back on the surface.

“There’s something down there, something…”
“Something what?” Jim asks, Anya snakes her arm round the Gnome’s shoulders.
“Something big.”

Anya crouches, so she’s at eye level with Newt.

“What was it doing Newt? What did you see?”
“It was… singing.”
“Singing?” Anya looks up at Cas, confused.
“Singing about worms.” Newt finishes and has a little cry.

Next Turn: Top Scat.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 89: Top Scat.

Anya touches Bec, who is instantly flooded with warmth, her Endurance spell adds density and body-mass to the already thick-set Barbarian, Bec grins and lumbers away, first down the ladder.

They Gang reassemble at the bottom of the shaft.

“Which way?” Jim whispers.

There’s a secondary passage heading south, the main passage heads west. Newt points west, the Gang creep forward, Newt filters to the rear.

“Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,
Guess I'll go and eat worms,
Long, thin, slimy ones; Short, fat, juicy ones,
Itsy, bitsy, fuzzy wuzzy worms.”

“That’s it.” Newt whispers, while hiding behind Anya’s robes.

“Down goes the first one, down goes the second one,
Oh how they wiggle and squirm.”

The Gang are close…

SPLAT

That surprised them.

“Hur-hur.”

Followed by chomping sounds.

“Up comes the first one, up comes the second one,
Oh how they wiggle and... Whassat?”

Thump-thump-thump.

Huge feet plod towards the corridor, where the Goodman Gang are hiding, which is nicely illuminated by a pair of glowing sunrods.

“Ha ha.” Jim leaps into the room, the others shuffle in quickly behind him, seamless.

Their lights illuminate the foul creature fully.

The thing has a bloated body, perhaps some eight feet wide, and is covered with a rock-like skin, brownish gray in color, which is in turn covered with dung. It’s huge, it must weigh half a ton at least.

It stands on three thick squat legs, with a massive gaping maw filled with jagged broken, and therefore razor-sharp, teeth- which even as the adventurers stare is being filled by the remains of a Giant Dire Rat, which is in turn being gripped by one of its three barbed tentacles, the other two wave in the air.

It eats with its mouth open.

“Bleuurgh…”

Newt says goodbye to his lunch.

But comes up with his crossbow in hand.

The Otyugh makes up its mind.

“BUFFET.”

And launches itself at the Goodman Gang.

FWUNG

Newt’s crossbow bolt scratches a fairly pathetic gouge in the creatures armour like hide.

The other members of the Gang come alive, Ala is the first off the mark, a tentacle swoops around towards her, she ducks low and comes up on the other side longsword in hand- slashes wildly, but only just manages to pierce the thing.

Jim is next in line, he leaps the tentacle aimed at him, lands safely and brings his axe down hard- BOING, it rebounds, he juggles his weapon but manages to keep hold of it.

Cas and Bec take the direct route- head on they charge, the third tentacle comes round in a swatting arc, Cas gets it all wrong, he leaps up, hoping the thing will pass beneath him, it wont- the tentacle slams him in the side, knocking the wind out of him instantly (again), and in the same moment picking him up and batting him into the wall of the chamber, some fifteen feet away, the Paladin is unconscious before he hits the deck.

“SANDWICH.” Bec counters, and buries a good half of his greatsword in the Otyugh’s right hand side, almost severing a tentacle.

Bec pays the price, the tentacle that swatted Cas away continues its arc, the Barbarian rides the blow, he’s two close to the creatures body for there to be any real force behind it.

“OOF.”

This time it’s the Otyugh.

Bec’s not done, he thumps his boot into the crap-ball's gut, or where he thinks its gut might be, the creature staggers backwards, the Barbarian it seems has plenty of momentum and brings down his greatsword again, on the top of the Otyugh, between its eyes.

His sword bites deep into the thing.

“Surrender, surrender, surrender.”

The giant ball of filth staggers backwards further, as far away as it can get from the Gang, its tentacles flailing madly in the air.

“Me no hurty. Me no hurty. Me freeeewnd.”

Ala is quickly over to Cas, who opens his eyes the instant she gets there.

“I’m ok.” He winks and grins.
“Please yourself.” Ala wanders off leaving the Paladin still lying on the floor.

“Me no hurty. Me Scat. Me freewnd. No hurty.”

Jim sheathes his axe, puts his hands in the air.

“I’m Jim- what are you?”
“Me Scat. No hurty, freeewnd.”
“But what are you?” Jim wrinkles up his nose, he’s now close enough to really get a whiff of the foul creature.
“You’re covered in…” Anya begins, “how can you… Do you not… Ohhh.”
“No hurty. Scat good boy.”
“But what are…” Jim tries again.
“He’s Scat.” Anya concludes, “move on Jim.”
“Oh. Yes, ok. Hello Scat, I’m…”
“Jeeewm.” Scat finishes.
“Right. Yes. What are you doing here?”
“Pooooor Scat trap-edd. This Scat home now. Nice, plenty ratty. Buffet. But baddy.”
Jim starts to laugh, spots Bec, the Barbarian doesn’t look amused.
“Right. Good. Tell us about this place, what’s through there?”

Jim points at a shut door on the far side of the chamber.

“Mekal stuff, no eaty, and big Aruggah’s.”
“Big… What?”
“Arrugah’s. Not freewnd like Scat.”
“What’s an Arrugah?” Ala asks.

“ARRRRRRRUUUU-GAH.”

Scat lurches forward snapping his mouth open and closed, flailing his tentacles wildly, it seems they’re playing charades.

“I have no idea.” Jim mutters.
“Neither do I, put it seems they’re not as friendly as Scat here.” Cas whispers back.

“And down there Scat, the other passage?”

Jim points back the way they came.

“More mekal- no tasty.”

Scat’s tentacles flop on the floor, forlornly, a rat suddenly darts from one of the cells, and he’s off.

The lumbering Otyugh gives chase, which causes all of the Goodman Gang to take sudden and evasive action.

FLOP

The rat gets away, leaving a despondent Scat.

“Whatch yew ere fur?”
“We’ve come to free the Wizard’s Ghost from the Tower.” Jim states.
“White light fing?”
“Yes the ‘white light fing’.”

Scat nods, flops his tentacles around a bit, itches one of his legs, loosing great slabs of caked on dung.

“Scat freewnd.”

Half-a-ton of faecal matter shuffles towards Jim, a tentacle twirls out, gingerly reaches out for the Ranger, coils around Jim’s waist- friendly like.

“Scat hungry-mungry.”

The Otyugh’s belly rumbles.

It farts to punctuate its point.

“Right. Good. Bec come with me, Cas keep Scat company.” The Paladin nods, eventually, not so keen on taking orders perhaps, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Jim trots off with Bec lumbering behind. The Ranger’s as good as his word, less than five minutes later the pair are back, and dragging most of the remains of one of the Bombadier Beetles they encountered earlier.

Scat flaps his tentacles together excitedly.

 “Somebody likes me, nobody hates me,
I'm gonna chomp on a Beekul,
lumpy bits, slimy bits; juicy bits and loosey bits,
Crunchy, munchy bumpy lunchy Beekul.”

The pair sling the carcass of the Beetle on the floor, Scat blinks once or twice, a tentacle skitters out and splats into a newly formed pool of Beetle ichor, nonchantly retracts and heads to Scats maw. A flopping red tongue licks at the end of the tentacle, Scat grins.

“MMMM. Buffet.”

Scat blinks some more, looks at Jim, love in his eyes.

“Go on then, if you’re hungry.” Jim kicks the Beetle corpse.

Scat doesn’t need a second invitation- he’s on it.

CRUNCH-CHOMP-CHEW-TEAR-SLUUUUUUURP.

All accompanied by a fairly constant stream of farts and hisses from Scats backside, and then a stream of excreta, or as its known in the Otyugh world- cladding.

It gets too much to watch very quickly.

“I think I’m going to be…” Newt is, again, all down his leg.

Scat suddenly looks up, sniffs the air, spots the pile of puke, and licks his lips.

“Oh Pelor.” Newt moans.
“Right then, let’s get on.” Cas declares.
The others nod, quickly.

“Scat, we’re going through there- to see the Arrugah’s.” Cas states.
Scat nods back, very briefly, and continues to stuff his mouth full of filth and gore.
“Scat. SCAT. SCAT.” Jim shouts.

The third one gets the Otyugh’s attention, he stops eating, looks at Jim, smiles.

“We’re going on, you’re in charge of our defence, of this place- I want you to defend this place- come and tell us if anything nasty comes along. When we get back me and Bec might go and get you another Beetle, I mean Beekul, you know- BUFFET.” Jim croaks, and gets a stare that could melt lead from Bec.

Scat nods furiously, and then launches back into scoffing the Beetle.

The Goodman Gang head off, through the western door.

Next Turn: The Arrugah.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 90: The Arrugah.

The Goodman Gang quietly creep into the chamber ahead, Jim leads the way into a 30-by-30 room filled with rubble, shards of wood, and loose dirt. Something has dug a passage straight through the stone walls in the north-western corner, with one tunnel leading to the north and another to the west.

“Shhh.” The Ranger scouts ahead, the others watch on- as silent as possible.

Although Scat’s making a fair amount of noise in the chamber behind them, wolfing down his meal of squished Bombadier Beetle.

Jim’s back in a minute or two.

“The passage north is silent, well almost, it stinks of animal- bear possibly, do you think Arrugah’s are bears? No matter. The passage west is much noisier, there are several… things, down there, they sound- big and angry, no not angry, ferocious, big definitely- I’m betting they’re bears.” Jim whispers.
The Goodman Gang nod back in unison.
Cas goes to speak, but Jim cuts the Paladin off, unintentionally, he hasn’t finished.
“I suggest Newt takes a look north, I’ll go with him, I’m fairly stealthy- for support, we’ll see what we can see. You lot keep an eye out for us, and watch the passage east- make sure nothing comes. If it does make some noise, I don’t want to get cut off.”
The Goodman Gang nod, and smile, the Paladin just settles on nodding.
“Come on then.” Newt winks and leads Jim off.
“Back in a bit.” The Ranger whispers, the rest of the gang creep over to the intersection of tunnels, monitoring both passages.

Newt, with Jim trailing a good ten feet behind him, heads north and into a roughly dug earthen cave, with no wall or ceiling reinforcements whatsoever, showers of dirt rain down- it doesn’t look that safe.

“Newt.” Jim whispers, he can see the danger.

The Gnome flaps his hand- signalling silence, creeps further in to the chamber.

In the middle of the floor rests a huge feathered creature of some kind, the size and shape of a bear, an Owlbear in fact. A rhythmic, wheezing pattern of breathing, it’s quite definitely asleep.

Newt turns and spies Jim, puts his hand up, the Ranger halts, squats.

Sniiiiiiick.

Newt draws his Adamantine Dagger, the dull blade barely registers in the shadowy light.

“No, New…” Jim whispers hurriedly.

But is too late.

SLIIIIIIICE

And the Owlbear is awake; its massive saucer eyes blink open, Newt tumbles backwards out of the fray. Throat cut, great gouts of blood streaming down, the creature staggers to get up, mouth and jaws flapping furiously, but no sound emerges.

It doesn’t even make it to all fours; its death is remarkably quick for something so large.

Thirty seconds later it’s just a huge lump on the dirty ground, Newt and Jim crouch beside it- breathing hard; fear and not exertion.

“That was dangerous.” Jim cautions, still talking in whispers.
“I know.” Newt’s teeth reflect in the light.

Jim thinks about it, then lays a reassuring hand on the Gnome’s shoulder.

“Come on, let’s go tell the others big guy.”

Grinning the pair head quietly back, gather the others up and creep back into the first chamber, where Scat has finished his lunch.

Newt notices that his pile of puke has also been cleaned up.

The mighty Otyugh is on guard duty, actually Scat is flopped on the floor in the corner of the room, snoring.

PARRP-PAPAPPAARP.

And farting, contentedly.

Jim tells the story, the slaying of the Owlbear- Newt looks on, a thin smile and a heart full of pride.

“How big?” Bec asks.
“Twice the size of you.” Jim states.
Bec looks again at the Gnome, reaches down and ruffles his hair.
“Pack it in, or your next.” Newt growls, and grins.

“Right then, I thing there are at least two others, Owlbears, down the other passage, what we need is a plan.”
Cas goes to open his mouth, Jim waits, the others turn to watch- see how this is going to turn out, Cas smiles then motions for Jim to continue.
“Thanks. Right then we creep in, as close as we can get- sunrods in, open fire, then Cas leads the charge, what d’you say?”
“I’ve got an idea. I’m going to give them a little something to think about- don’t charge in until I say it’s safe.” Anya grins and fingers her necklace.
“Ok.” Jim looks confident, “Cas wait for Anya’s signal.”
The Paladin nods.
“Hang on.” Ala mutters a short prayer, the Gang are engulfed in a glittering blue light, the Blessings of Correllon.

Less than thirty seconds later the Gang have reached the end of the eastern passage, which actually turns to head south, at the entrance to a roughly circular cavern filled with signs of regular use. A nearly vertical air shaft allows for twilight-level illumination. But the sight that really catches the Gang’s attention are not the huge claw marks on every surface, but the source of the claw marks, standing about thirty feet away from them. Two enormous bear-like creatures covered in shaggy coats of feathers. Their beaked, bird-like heads hiss a warning; they turn swiftly, despite their size and surroundings to glare at Anya and Newt.

Jim throws a pair of sunrods in, which confuses both the creatures momentarily, they shy away, ward their eyes.

“Feck.” Newt manages a ragged breath, “they’re enormous.”

THUNG

His crossbow bolt smashes into side of the first Owlbear’s skull, lodges there.

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-GAHHHH.

The Owlbear staggers left, nearly collapses, shakes its head, pawing at the bolt lodged there.

Newt’s hands jiggle with his crossbow, it’s reloaded in seconds, the other Owlbear still hasn’t moved, taking in the scene.

FWUNG

His second bolt thumps into the already hurt creatures back, causing another spasm of pain; the creature is clearly no measure for the Gnome.

“Go on then.” Newt waves at the open mouthed Anya.

Who shuts her mouth and then launches a pea sized object into the chamber, it’s one of the beads from her necklace.

“BACK.” Anya screams and shuffles back out of the chamber.
“What?” Cas asks and looks to see where Anya’s going, he turns back just in time.

FWUMP.

Anya’s Fireball rocks the chamber; a spiralling wash of flame shoots out in every direction.

And in seconds is gone, leaving too floundering Owlbears, both on fire, both caught in the epicentre of the blast.

ARRRRU-gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

“So that’s what she does.” Ala states and smiles thinly at Anya.

“CHARGE- FOR PELOR.”

Cas races in, followed by Ala and Jim. The three slice madly at the first flaming Owlbear, Ala’s longsword cuts deep into the creatures right arm, Jim almost severs the creatures left leg, and Cas stabs the length of his blade in the flailing, now falling, monsters chest- the Owlbear sinks to its knees. The three back off.

Bec runs around the first combat and straight for the second creature, Newt’s crossbow bolt still protruding from the side of its skull.

SLICE.

And that’s all it takes, the huge thing tumbles and crunches into the dirt.

AAAARRRRRRU-GAH-GAH-GAH.

The Gang as one turn, there’s a dirt passage on the opposite side of the chamber to where they entered, clearly there’s another Owlbear down there, and it doesn’t sound too happy.

Jim turns back as the first Owlbear slumps forward, flames lick and curl, the fire rages and burns continues to consume the thing.

“Keep moving.” Jim orders and points the way over to the exit, the rest of the Gang rush over and gather, only for Jim and Newt to lead them on, south and then east into another rough cavern.

Two small bundles of fur cower in the corner of next chamber. Their massive parent towers in front of them, stretched to her full height of eight feet. Her feathers bristle as she hisses ferociously, warning the Gang away.

Newt fumbles with his crossbow, expertly, fits a bolt and is and about to fire.

Slap.

When Jim knocks the device out of his hands.

“WAIT. Shhhhh. Sorry Newt.” Jim finally whispers, “It’s defending its young, it’s a female, look.” Jim points; sure enough the two bundles are juvenile Owlbears, they squirm and hide behind their mother.

“Hang on.”

Jim slings his battleaxe, “cover me”, and takes a couple of steps forward, then just stands there.

“Nobody move.” He whispers back.

Nobody moves for a while.

“For how long?” Newt whispers back.
“As long as it takes- now shush Newt.”

Newt leans back on the cavern wall, settles there, yawns and shuts his eyes.

“Wake me when he’s done.” The Rogue whispers.

Anya nods and continues to watch, and be impressed by, Jim.

For the first minute the huge female continues to hiss her warnings, the Gang do not move. A while later she begins to settle, its at that point that Jim starts to hum, a familiar tune- the tune of the song that Scat was singing, but not the words- its kind of soothing.

Five minutes later the Owlbear family are either sleeping or simply watching and waiting, the mother now sat on her haunches, still protecting her cubs.

“Ok.” Jim whispers, he slowly points, there’s another exit on the opposite side of the cavern, heading east again.

“Go and take a look, quietly. I’ll stay here.” Jim whispers again.

Slowly, after Newt is woken, the others creep behind Jim, one at a time, and head off down the far passage, there’s a light ahead.

Jim watches the Owlbear, as the Owlbear watches his compatriots, she remains calm, still seated in front of her young, she yawns and clacks her beak a bit.

Cas leads the Gang on, the tunnel turns sharply to the right where it encounters an underground section of the Tower. The shimmering blue force field seems out of place underground, where it borders wet dirt and mud, but it makes it clear that the Tower extends deep underground. Instead of seeing its white marble walls behind the force field, they instead see mud and dirt with the occasional patch of dirty marble visible beneath.

The tunnel turns away from the Tower and into a small dead-end cavern filled with bones and rubbish.

Newt sidles over to the Tower.

“Careful.” Cas warns.
“I always am.” Newt mutters, gingerly the Gnome places his hand against the force field- solid.
“No way in here.” Newt declares.
“We’ll check the chamber then head back to Jim.” Cas states.

And so they do, to no avail, there are no secrets to be found, and five minutes later, after a safe crossing of Moma Owlbear’s chamber, they’re back in the first chamber, Scat’s home.

The Otyugh is just waking.

Next Turn: Scat Bad.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 91: Scat Bad.

“Scat freewnd. Beekul all BURp gown.” Scat shuffles over to the Jim, strokes the Ranger with a stray tentacle.
“That’s very nice Scat. Arrugah all gone too, well apart from Moma and the kids, you’re free to go.” Jim states.

Scat looks astonished, although how anyone can tell- he hasn’t got the most expressive of faces, and besides he’s covered in bum dung.

“Blbbllebbblleelbbe.” Or something like that, the Otyugh is clearly beyond words, certainly excited.

Scat thrashes his tentacles wildly and rushes off through the eastern door.

The Goodman Gang break for supper, prior to checking out the southern passage, it’s been a long day so far but after a string of victories, and against what should have proved to be incredibly tough foes, the group settle down for a well earned rest.

“What have you got?” Newt mithers Jim.
“I think its fish paste.” Jim looks unhappy and unsure; the sandwiches from the Inn are not up to much.
“MMmmm.” Newt examines the contents of his sandwich, it looks like…
“What I wouldn’t give for some Magic Smash right now.” The Rogue states.
“Mmmm Magic Smash”, Anya confirms.

WHAM

The door explodes, Scat is back in the room, he smells of Bar-b-q, to be precise Bar-b-qed Owlbear.

“Jeerm tha door is openink. I’m three, three at lask, three at lask, thank Jeeerm I’m three at lask.”

Scat waddles over, towards the Ranger, he seems to be puckering up, set to kiss Jim.

“Ahem, Scat.” Jim leaps to his feet and backs away, “Scat, we have further need of your services, as payment for your freedom perhaps.”

Scat opens his eyes, shuffles to a halt.

“Ask I am yure fatfull freewnd.”
“We need you to guard our backs again, stay here- we’re heading south, down the other passage, we don’t want anything creeping up on us in the mean time. Can you do that?” Jim asks.
“It wood be may onor fweend Jerm.” Scatt flutters his eyelids, he has no eyelashes.

The Goodman Gang get ready for further exploration, check straps, belts, buckles- ready for the fight.

“Jerm.” Scat croons.
“What Scat?”
“Jerm, can I be Bad?”
The Ranger looks confused. “Bad?”
“Yes. Bad.”
He looks more confused. “Bad?”
“Yeeeees. Bad.”
“Bad?” Jim enquires.
Anya’s had enough.

“Scat what do you mean by Bad? We don’t understand.”
“Bad- like singy of songy’s.”
Jim looks, more confused- his usual self, there one and the same.
“Singy of songy’s?” Jim repeats.
“You mean a Bard?” Anya asks.
“Yeth. Yeth. Bad.”
“I suppose.” Jim shrugs.
“Is dat it- am I Bad now?” Scat wonders.
“You need to learn some songs, sorry songy’s, I guess, then you’re Bard, sorry a Bard, sorry a Bad… Bad, whatever.” Jim moves out of the chamber, the others follow after.
“Then I Bad?” Scat calls after him.
“Yep. Why not.” Jim calls back.

The southern passage splits again, continues south or diverts east, Jim leads them south and into a 30-by-30 room littered with broken weapons and overturned weapon racks. It clearly used to be an armoury. It’s been disturbed fairly recently, as evidenced by the clawed tracks on the dusty floor.

“Don’t worry, their Scat’s tracks, and an Owlbear, but that was some time ago.” Jim mooches about the chamber, the others likewise, with Cas at the door to keep an eye out for anything untoward.

The armoury is a dump, there’s not a serviceable item left in it, what isn’t bent or broken is rusted almost to dust.

“I need some treasure.” Newt states, a whisper loud enough for all the Gang to hear, which is exactly as he intended.
“We’re here to rescue the Wizard’s Ghost, in the hope that he will help us to fathom what’s going on.” Cas is vehement, “we’re not here for treasure.”
“What keeps you awake at night is none of my business tin man, that’s between you and your conscience, you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders because you put it there… You fool. I’m happy as I am, just show me the money.” Newt shrugs and wanders away from the Paladin.
“Why you…” Cas starts.
“Come on, let’s try the passage east.” Jim states.

The Gang move on, head east and then south, Jim and Newt in the front rank, Cas and Ala at the back, not that she’s particularly talking to him.

The 10-foot wide passageway is different to the last, the nature of the stonework changes. Whereas before it was well designed by someone who clearly knew their craft, it’s now rougher and much less precise. The stones are held together with a crumbling mortar that seems to barely stay together. In fact, it seems ancient. 

Ahead is an archway, also designed in the ancient, more homely style of stonework. A crude symbol of a kneeling figure is carved into the stone above the arch, further down the hallway is another, similar, arch.

“Odd- it’s Meelkor, I think.” Cas explains.
“What is?” Ala asks.
“The old man, ancient saint, I think. There used to be a statue of him near the common refectory, the lacquer had completely gone from his backside.” Cas finshes.
“What?” Anya and Ala state in unison, and then share a look.
“Don’t know really, he was something to do with the common man, although they used to call him, ‘kiss my arse Meelkor.’”
“Why?” Jim gets in on the action.
“Why what?”
“Why did they call him ‘kiss my arse…’, whatever?” Jim enquires.
“Because that’s what they used to do- kiss his arse, the statue’s arse that is.” Cas simply states, but that proves to be still too little.
“Why? Why’d they kiss his arse?”
“Don’t know, I think it was supposed to be lucky. Not sure really. He was an ugly old bugger, face like a, well… a cow’s backside, stooped with a walking stick.”

Cas leads off, the others, a little perplexed, follow on.

More or less everybody spots that Cas has now retaken his old position, as leader of the Goodman Gang, everyone in fact except Jim, who mutters to himself- “kiss my arse Meelkor”, shrugs and trots to catch up.

Further down the hall Cas leads the Gang through the second archway, similar to the first. Thirty feet past it the crumbling old walls have collapsed in a cave-in that blocks the hallway. A huge pile of stone and dirt reaches almost to the ceiling, there’s a tiny space at the top just big enough for someone small to take a look.

“Newt, if you would be so kind?” Cas asks.
“Yours to command, master.” Newt quickly loops a length or rope around his waist, throws the tail-end to Bec, who grabs hold, and scuttles up the rocky incline, and in seconds is gone from sight.

Thirty seconds tick by.

“Are you…” Cas starts.
“Fine. No Ghouls to report, the passage carries on a while, I think there’s a larger chamber ahead, I didn’t bother scoping it out, I figured I shouldn’t get too far ahead of you.” Newt states and clambers back through the hole.

“I think we’re going to have to clear it, at least half of it, we don’t want to get stuck the other side.” Cas states.
Nobody looks pleased at the prospect, its going to be back-breaking work.
“Alright.” Bec adds, and begins to haul a rock away.
“Unless… hang on a moment.” Jim rushes back the way they came.

He’s gone for about two minutes, and when he returns he’s not alone.

Here comes Scat, eager to help out, he skips, sort of, down the passageway.

The Otyugh sets too, hauling rock, rubble and dirt out the way with its huge paddle-ended tentacles. Jim grins, it spreads- infectious, Cas settles for a half-hearted smile. The Goodman Gang join in; many hands (and tentacles) make light work.

“Jewm?” Scat whines a little.
“Yes Scat.”
“I’ve fort of a songy- can I singy it fur yew?”
“’Kay.” Jim nods.

Nothing happens for a while.

“Scat, are you going to singy for us?” Jim asks.
“Yes. Onlee I onlee got tha korus. It not goody. Not Bad enuff.”
“No matter, let’s hear it.” Jim encourages.

Nothing happens for a while longer.

“Scat. The song?”
“I’m embarrassed.”
“There’s no need…”
“It’s quite… loud.”
“That’s ok, we’re making a fair amount of noise as it is, whatever’s the other side has heard us already.” Jim shrugs.
“Oh. Ok. Jewm?”
“Yes Scat.” Jim straightens, stops work to stare at the Otyugh.
“It’s a bitty fast.”
Jim nods, “let’s hear it then.”
“’Kay.”

Nothing happens for a second, well except that Scat takes in huge lungfuls of air, like he’s filling up, and sure enough he seems to be getting bigger, inflating.

“Scat?” Jim worries.
“S’okay.” Scat quickly squeaks, trying not to let the air out.

Then, “S’reddy.” The Otyugh squeaks again, Jim nods, the other members of the Gang stop what they are doing, aware they are about to witness some sort of momentous occasion, fingers crossed- here’s hoping Scat doesn’t explode, he’s looking particularly taut.

Fart-FART-FART-Trump-Parp-FART.

The noise builds, and gets faster, and there is a tune in there, although it’s very deep, rumbling drums accompanied by a whole orchestra of throbbing, throbbing sounds.

It gets faster still, and louder.

Scat is able to keep up the noise, some sort of circular breathing method, it quickly becomes a wall of sound which echoes off the passage walls, small piles of loose debris topple, the sonic vibrations cause cascades of dirt to spill from the ceiling.

“I thought you were going to sin…” Jim starts.

“Cum krawlin fasta 
obey yure Masta 
yure lyfe berns fasta 
obey yure Masta
MASTA.”

A farting drum roll and parp solo rocks the chamber.

“I…” Jim starts.

”Masta of Poppets I'm pullin yure stings 
twistin yure mynd an smushin yure dreeems 
Bungee buy me, yew carnt seek a ding 
Jus kall me naym, `cos isle hare yew scram 
MASTA 
MASTA

Jus kall me naym, `cos isle hare yew scram 
MASTA 
MASTA.”

The last ‘MASTA’, brings a lump of stone crashing down from the ceiling, it lands six inches to the side of Jim, who doesn’t move a muscle, it would have crushed him.

Silence.

Apart from the hiss as showers of dirt shower down, cover the shocked statues of the Goodman Gang.

“Jerm?” Scat asks.
“Very…” Jim starts.
“VERY…” Cas adds.
“Good.” Jim finishes.
“Or rather, Bad.” Anya corrects.

“What’s it called?” Bec asks.
The others turn to stare at the Barbarian, he’s grinning, his hairs gone all lank, he’s sweating profusely; he also looks a little googly-eyed.

“It’s called ‘Masta of Poppets.’, did you like it?” Scat replies, and smiles back, hopeful.
“Yeah- it was…” Bec goes on a long mental journey in search of the right word, spots the huge stone on the ground, “Rocking.” Ah, that’s it.

“What’s a Poppet?” Newt enquires.
“Yew ar my luvvely.” Scat snakes a friendly tentacle around the Gnome and gives him a squeeze, Newt doesn’t look so sure.

“Right then. Good. Let’s get on.” Cas gets them back on task.
“Shall I…” Scat starts.
“Save your energy. I mean- later.” Jim winks at Scat.

In less than ten minutes the blockage is clear enough for the gang to head on through without too much fuss.

“You’ve been a big help Scat.” Jim pats the Otyugh.
Scat blushes, “Owwww.” He’s embarrassed.
“Right then, you should head back; remember you’re on guard duty, no slacking.” Jim pats the creature some more.

The Gang begin to filter through, into the passage beyond, Scat waving them off with all three of his tentacles flapping.

Next Turn: Coffin fit.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

That was brilliant ... and barking.


----------



## Goonalan

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:
			
		

> That was brilliant ... and barking.




Why thank you, and now some more...

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 92: Coffin fit.

The passage winds on and into a much much larger area, a pair of sunrods arc into the room; it’s a 50-by-50 stone chamber with a number of interesting features. First, there are open passages exiting through the middle of the south and the west walls. Second, there is a statue in the centre of the room. It’s a granite-carved image of an old, blind crone hunched with age. Third, the walls are carved with scenes of mighty wizards and warriors kneeling before the poor and humble. Fourth, there are four plain wooden coffins, one in each corner of the room. Their tops are ajar. Finally, there are five skeletons lying on the floor, one in rotting red robes beside each of the coffins, while the fifth, complete with rusting adventuring equipment, rests in front of the statue.

“Meelkor again.” Cas warns and points to the statue.
“Odd looking place”, Anya adds, “don’t like the bit where the Wizards have to bow to him.”

Cas wanders in, Jim by his side, the Ranger crouches, examines the floor.

“There’s been a fight here, some time ago but…”

At that instant the four wooden coffins leap to their… bases, the two closest hop towards the Gang, their intentions are clear, the coffins warp and bend as they charge, and yet the Gang seem a little fazed by the situation.

“We’re about to be attacked by… coffins.” Jim finishes.
“Yesssss.” Newt agrees and scratches his chin.

The other two coffins hop towards the western exit passage, although there are no members of the Goodman Gang anywhere near there.

“This is all very odd.” Ala adds.
“Ah well- BUFFET, and all that.” Bec wades in.

Bec intercepts the first coffin, his greatsword smashes into the side of the thing, it does less damage than he thought it would, the coffin leaps at the Barbarian, tries to butt Bec in the face, it’s too slow. Jim arrives twirling his axe, but too slow, the coffin leaps back and out of the way.

Newt and Anya share a glance, they want nothing to do with this, Newt tumbles into the centre of the chamber, Anya dashes the same distance, the coffins hop past them and straight for the other, heavily armed members of the Gang.

“Odd.” Anya repeats.”
Newt shrugs.

Ala and Cas dodge forward to meet the second coffin, Ala’s longsword smashes into the side of the construct and bounces off, it takes all her skill just to keep the blade clutched in her hands. Cas menaces the coffin, which proves too quick for the Paladin, it dodges inside his sword swipe, and aims a hop-kick at Ala, the Priestess shuffles back in time.

The other two coffins leave Newt and Anya well alone, hop over to the western exit and then just stand there, if that’s the right word, guarding it.

“What the hell…” Newt starts.
“We’ll see.” Anya strides towards them, stops a little short, and reveals a wand.

“FLAME ON.”

And both coffins are alight.

But not moving.

Ala turns around to stare at Newt, the Gnome shrugs, “I dunno. This is easy. Do it again. Do it again.” He grins.

“It’s mine.” Jim yells and dances towards the coffin he and Bec are menacing, the coffin dances back, Jim nearly falls and has to duck back to avoid the things counter-attack.

SMASH

Bec’s greatsword passes just inches over Jim’s right shoulder, he’ll have nightmares about how close it came later on, the blade connects with the coffin and turns it into splinters. The Barbarian cannot alas get to the other coffin, Ala and Cas are blocking his path.

Jim dodges left past the Barbarian on his way to help the pair.

Anya giggles, looks down at her wand, then back up at the smouldering coffins.

“FLAME ON.”

She giggles some more as both of the constructs are engulfed in fire.

Neither of them move, content to stand and burn where they are.

“Easy.” Anya looks back again at Newt, eager to share her triumph, but the Gnome’s no longer watching her, she follows his gaze, at the same time Newt screams.

“SKELLIES. LOTS OF SKELLIES.”

And tumbles backwards into an empty corner of the chamber, comes up with his heavy mace in hand, as from the southern exit emerges a column of armed and armoured Skeletons.

There must be a dozen or so of the things.

Meanwhile the coffin confronting Cas and Ala lunges forward causing the Priestess to take evasive action, and just in time, she swings wildly and misses by a mile, but opens up the space for Cas to strike. The Paladin smashes his longsword into the coffin, crunches into the side of the thing, the result a few wooden shards fall away, all in all a lot less damage than he expected.

“BUFFET.”

Bec likes the odds, head down he charges past a gawping Anya into the Skeletons, in the blink of an eye two of them are smashed to smithereens, then it all goes wrong.

The Barbarian goes to strike again, steps on a wayward femur, which breaks, and loses his footing, Bec thumps to the ground. A pair of Skeletons take advantage of the situation, He blocks the first sword thrust, they’re wielding longswords, but is much too slow to prevent the second Skeleton’s attack which opens up a long gash on his upper right arm, blood pours from the wound.

Ala spots the Barbarian’s predicament disengages after a glance to Jim, who leaps in to prevent the coffin from getting to her.

The Priestess of Correllon marches to the centre of the chamber, unleashing her Holy Symbol as she goes.

“To Dust.” Ala shouts over the noise, then mutters a short prayer.

The effect is instantaneous.

WHOOOOOF

And all that’s left are the odd splinters of bone and a thick white powdery dust which twinkles in the pale light of the sunrods- all of the Skeletons are destroyed.

“All gone.” Newt giggles and puts his mace away and fetches out, then loads, his crossbow.

“Save the wand.” Jim shouts at Ala, and then strikes the coffin ahead of him as hard as he can, which has no affect. Cas however, once again, takes advantage- smashes the coffin facing Jim in its rear- more splinters of wood fly off. He’s whittling it down. The coffin menaces Jim, but the Ranger is too quick and leaps aside.

“Bec. Bec.”
Bec finally takes notice of Newt, the Gnome points at the two smouldering coffins still guarding the western exit.

Bec nods and lumbers over, smashes the first of the pair to firewood, then crunches his sword into the second, smashing a gaping hole in the construct, the coffin however fights on, not very well it has to be said, more splinters of wood fly off as its forced back by the lumbering Barbarian and collides with a wall.

Ala rushes over to help Cas and Jim, arrives sword drawn. Just in time to watch the coffin fail to land another blow on Jim, the Ranger rushes his attack and slices well wide. Which is just the opening Cas needs, he smashes the thing again, more splinters, however the coffin fights on.

Bec lines up his next shot, takes his time, the coffin has nowhere to run, it’s being backed into a corner.

CRASH

Bec gets his man, coffin rather, he stands there and grins, “Masta… Masta.” He mutters.

Ala joins the crowd menacing the last coffin, swings and connects, what should have been a devastating blow, it has little if any, effect. The coffin sees fit to attack Jim again, it’s much too slow, however the Rangers attack is right on target, and another chunk flies off. Once again Cas is in position- he scores another hit, yet more splinters escape the now ravaged box.

Bec lumbers over about to put an end to the final coffin monster.

“No, leave it.” Newt shouts across, which brings the Barbarian to a sudden stop, Bec looks over to the Rogue and Anya, the Wizard shakes her head, which is good enough for him.
“I’m taking bets- who’s going to land the killing blow, evens its Cas, three to one Ala, and ten to one Jim?”
Bec does the sums on his fingers; it takes a moment, “Ten gold on Jim.” He wanders over with his money in hand.
“Ten on Cas.” Anya states and reaches for her money.

The gaggle gathers to watch the titanic battle, Jim, Cas and Ala vs. the beat up coffin monster.

“Come on Cas.” Anya shouts, which causes the Paladin to momentarily pause and forget to attack.
“JIM. JIM. JIM.” Bec continues.
“Come on it’ll be the death of you.” Newt adds, “did you hear what I said… the death of you, it’s a coffin- get it.”
Bec shakes his head. “JIM. JIM. JIM.” He continues, which is very off putting.

Ala sees her opening, lances in with her longsword and connects, the blade thumps into the coffin- to no effect.

“Ooooooh.” Newt offers.
“Not her.” Anya yelps and then realises she’s said it out loud.

Jim shoves Cas aside, it seems his competitive spirit is getting the better of him, and swings his axe with all his might. The blade thunks into the coffin but leaves not a mark.

“JIM. JIM. Ohhh crap. Come on JIM.” Bec hollers.
“He doesn’t stand a chance, not man enough.” She’s said it out loud again, Anya hangs her head in shame.

“What’d’ya mean…” Jim starts up, “Ohhh” and then staggers backwards holding his broken nose, the first injury of the fracas to any member of the Goodman Gang.

“Do you need a wooden sword?” Newt shouts over, “perhaps that would do it.” The Gnome giggles.
“CAS. CAS. CAS.” Anya chants.

The Paladin dodges inside his wily opponent’s, ahem a large wooden coffin- mostly hacked to pieces, guard and delivers a terrible blow, and the coffin sheds a few more splinters of wood.

The three onlookers look disappointed, and a little bored with the proceedings.

“Come on.” Newt calls.
“Just finish it.” Anya shouts.
“JIM. JIM. JIM.” Bec chants.

Jim falls over.

Ala steps from the pack fumbles her sword, then grabs it again, and pokes it in the general direction of the construct.

POP

The back of the coffin flies out, it collapses.

Newt collects his money.

“Thank you, come again.”

“I don’t think that helped proceedings.” Cas looks stern at Newt.
“No, probably not.” Newt wanders off ignoring the Paladin.

“Right then, search this place”, Jim states and gets up of the floor.

And what a haul.

Five minutes later the group gather, Anya’s Detect Magic spell reveals that the Warriors Skeleton near the statue was carrying a magic shortsword and shield.

“I don’t want it.” Bec states again.
Anya is attempting to get the Barbarian to take the shortsword.
“I’ve got my dagger.” Bec shows her his magic dagger, it catches the light, shines.
“But this will do more damage.” Anya states.
Bec shakes his head and wanders off.
“Odd.” The Wizard whispers.
Cas wanders over and takes the magic shield, it looks good on him.

Also in the Skeleton’s backpack is a rolled up parchment, Anya takes a look, it seems to be a picture of a sword, a wooden sword, there’s also some snippets of writing, she reads aloud-

“’Humility is power’, unlikely.”

“’Those who would kneel before the meek would see the meek kneel before them.’ I don’t get it.”
“I think they’re sayings, words of wisdom, it sounds like Meelkor again.” Cas adds.

“’With this blade should you lead the meek.’And…”
“’Sword? Axe?’, can’t read the rest of that, and…”
“’The legacy of Knight…’, something.”
“’-Was he truly corrupt’, something, ‘The scrolls say he was,’ something, oh I get it- ‘the legends don’t.’ This is just confusing.”
“’Was his the sword of the meek?’ There’s the meek again, they get everywhere, one more…”
“’Finally found the tomb. Tomorrow I enter-‘, the tomb, that sounds like fun. Aren’t we supposed to be here to rescue the Wizard Balthazhar? This sounds like something completely different, what’s going on here?” Anya concludes.

“Bingo. Damn.” The second word delivered in a whisper.

The Goodman Gang look round to stare at Newt, he’s delving about in a space in the stone floor recently occupied by one of the coffins, he has a bag in his hand, spilling from it are a cascade of gold coins.

There are three other recesses, all of them with bags of coin, one of which is full of platinum coins.

“Must be over a thousand gold here.” Newt grins, “see Lord- TRESH-URR.”
Cas sulks a little, “that’s not the point Newt...”
“The south passage let’s see where the Skeletons came from.”

Jim leads them off before the argument can begin.

Next Turn: CLUUUUUUUUNK-CLICK.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 93: CLUUUUUUUUNK-CLICK.

The Gang trudge on and into a long 30-by-50 room lined with simple wooden coffins; all of them have been opened from the inside. There are ten in all, five along each wall. Aside from dust and mildew, there is nothing else here.

“I hope they don’t get up, we could be here for hours.” Newt remarks and stares in turn at Ala, Jim and finally Cas- he winks, then scurries off to search the chamber.

The others except for Jim and Cas fan out and help the Rogue.

Several minutes later they conclude that there’s nothing to be found.

“Right…” Cas starts.
“Let’s see what them coffin’s were guarding.” Jim finishes and heads off, back to the larger chamber with the statue of Meelkor and unanimated Skeletons in, then west down another passage.

The long hallway is lined with stone pillars, all of them carved into the shape of old, blind crones kneeling and supporting other crones on their backs.

“Weird.” Anya comments.

After a brief search they press on, the passage continues west, the Gang, lead by Jim, leaves the pillared hallway and passes through another arch, which again is carved with images of kneeling creatures. Into a small room with an alcove set into the middle of the western wall. In the alcove is a statue of an elderly blind man, stooped and crippled.

“Meelkor.” Cas states the voice of authority.

There are no obvious exits.

“There’s a door.” Newt states, the others look around, it’s not obvious where the door is.
“Where?” Ala asks.
“Behind the statue.” Newt remarks and then tuts loudly for good measure.
“Would you mind taking a look then Newt.” Jim asks, while Ala growls.
“You’re the boss.” Newt smirks at Cas then heads over, behind the statue of Meelkor.

“It’s not trap- CLICK. What was that?” Newt looks around.

WHOOOSH

The blade passes a good eight inches over his head.

Newt looks up, not sure what just happened, there’s a huge scythe embedded in the wall above him and to his right.

“Traps disarmed.” Newt calls back, and chuckles.

VWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

Behind the Gnome the statue sinks into the ground.

The Gnome turns to watch.

Grins.

“That’s clever.”

THUNK

Newt leaps round; the noise came from behind him.

“Oh Pelor scared the crap out of me.”

Nothing’s changed, just an empty alcove ahead of him.

“He-he.” Newt giggles and places the palm of his hand over his thumping heart.

CLUUUUUUUUNK-CLICK.

The curved stone disappears into a recess beneath it, in an instant, darkness spills out from the now open secret door and Newt is suddenly face to face with a leathery-looking corpse-like creature. Its wild eyes burn with malevolence as it hisses, “Now I am the master!”

“Masta.” Bec whispers, he can’t resist it.

The Wight reaches out and rakes one clawed hand across Newt’s face.

The Gnome shrinks, stumbles backwards, the creature claws again but Newt is out of reach, and gibbering.

“The Master. The Master. The Master.” Over and over again, the Gnome thumps into a wall and squats down, looks away, presses his face as hard as he can into the cold stone wall- inside a darkness dwells, swells, and eats him alive.

Next Turn: Stop Wight Now.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 94: Stop Wight Now.

“For Pelor.” Cas is lightning fast, he leaps into the fray, slashes wildly opening up a six inch gash on the Wight’s side, shadow essence spews from the wound, wreathing the creature. Then just as swiftly he leaps out of the way again. The Wight swipes but is much too slow.

“MASTA MASTA.” 

Bec steps in, the Wight claws at the Barbarian’s armour but cannot get through his defences, however.

SLICE

Bec cuts down almost slicing the Wight in two, top to bottom, bits of the creature’s skin slough off or peel away, much more of its shadow essence escapes.

Ala leans in, Holy Symbol of Correllon in hand, she mutters prayers, and presents the Symbol again.

The Wight doesn’t blink an eye, ignores her, more concerned with the lumbering Barbarian that’s intent on cutting it in half.

All to no avail.

Bec’s second stroke is a close replica of the first, this time the cut is clean, the Wight is split asunder, the two halves flop to the floor, squirm for a moment, and then are gone, just a cloud of jet black vapour that quickly disperses.

“You ok?” Jim drags Newts face away from the wall.
“Ye-ye-ye-ye-yeP.” Newt shivers.

Ala lights up another sunrod and strides into the recess, there’s lots of stuff in there- in fact a whole set of equipment for a Knight, a Warrior, all of it in a jumble at the base of a much scratched and scared coffin- open.

One Detect Magic spell later and…

“You’re not going to believe this…”

Ala strides from the recess, a wooden sword, like in the scroll they found earlier in her hands, “it’s magic.” She states, to looks of astonishment.
“The Sword of the Meek… Cas.” Anya offers.
Cas is over to the blade in an instant, blade may be stretching the truth somewhat, the sword is constructed from two pieces of wood, hardly shaped at all, although both are splintered in places, one piece of wood for the blade, the other for the cross guard, all that’s keeping them together is what looks, and feels, like a knotted dirty rag.

“It feels…” Cas takes the blade, makes a few exploratory swishes. “It feels, great.”
“Here.” The Paladin, without looking, he can’t take his eyes off the blade, passes his magical longsword to Bec.
“Don’t want it- have dagger.” Bec refuses the blade.
“This is better.” Cas nudges the Barbarian with the pommel of his now former longsword, “Take it.” He’s still admiring the blade.
SLAP. 
Bec knocks the longsword out of the Paladin’s grip, it skitters onto the stone floor.
“Don’t Want IT. DAG-GUH.” Bec strides off.

Which gets everyones attention. 

“There’s something about that dagger.” Ala states.
“Right.” Anya concurs, the two share a look.

“Let’s get back- we’ve done enough for today. We need to get Newt rested- hot soup, that’s what you need my friend.” Jim states, and leads them back the way they came, scooping up Newt on the way.

The Gnome is shivering, his teeth chattering in the Ranger’s arms. They hurry.

Ala grabs what looks to be a solid gold Breastplate from the recently uncovered stash, figuring she’ll give it to Newt to sell, when he comes to his senses. That’ll cheer him up.

Ten minutes later and they’re back with Scat in the first chamber they explored, the soup is on, Newt’s wrapped in three blankets, sleeping- actually shivering and passing in and out of consciousness would be a better description of his situation.

Scat is whistling a lullaby to the squirming Gnome.

“Masta. Masta.” Scat whistles and whispers at the same time, it’s a neat trick.

“The Wight stole part of his essence, he must weather the storm tonight- he may be better in the morning, there’s nothing I… we, can do, he needs food and sleep… He’s strong Cas, he’ll be ok, you’ll see- in the morning.” Ala smiles at Cas, the Paladin looks worried, his new sword forgotten for the moment- Newt looks really ill, at death’s door. Ala stands on tip-toes, reaches up and kisses Cas on the lips.
“Get some rest yourself. He’ll be back to normal, to Newt, in the morning.” Ala wanders off to tend to the Gnome.

Anya watches the Priestess depart. “Goody-two-shoes”, she whispers.

They eat.

They rest.

They sleep.

And sometime in the night Newt awakes, all alone in the dark.

He blinks, there’s a fire going, he looks left, on the other side of the fire sits Scat, the Otyugh continues to fart and parp oblivious, its back to the Gnome.

Newt grins.

A tentacle snakes out behind Scat, grabs a hunk of wood, from one of the smashed coffins, puts it on the fire.

The stray snakes tentacle snakes back, then suddenly stops, turns to point towards Newt, motions left, then right, stops again, and then waves at the Rogue.

Newt sleeps. 

Next Turn: Stag Party.


----------



## Mircoles

Goonalan said:
			
		

> right for the bonus point what was the name of the scenario that appeared in Dungeon magazine that I think involved shrunken PCs and a giant house/cottage- something like that anyway?






I don't know if anyone answered this one yet, but it's "Chadrather's Bane" from Dungeon issue #18

 It's an adventure that I've yet to run, mostly because I have to upgrade it to a higher edition, but I'll get around to it eventually.


----------



## Goonalan

Mircoles said:
			
		

> I don't know if anyone answered this one yet, but it's "Chadrather's Bane" from Dungeon issue #18
> 
> It's an adventure that I've yet to run, mostly because I have to upgrade it to a higher edition, but I'll get around to it eventually.




That's the one, genius- I remember it well, alas all my old Dungeon Magazines are boxed up somewhere, no room in the office to keep them to hand.

Thanks for answering.

More soon from the Goodman Gang.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 95: Stag Party.

“What’s that?” Anya’s awake in an instant.

The other members of the Gang are also getting up.

“YAHOOOOOO.”

It’s Newt, he sounds… very well actually- certainly upbeat, the far door is open- through to the ex-Owlbear den. 

“GET ‘EM SCAT, SICK ‘EM.”

The Gnome sounds like he’s having far too much fun, the Gang scramble and rush through the door, following the sound of his voice, and the sound of fighting.

“What the…” Jim stops mid-stride, in the largest of the caverns Owlbear Momma is bleeding badly, she’s being attacked by another Giant Stag Beetle, the Beetle is in turn being attacked by a flailing Scat, riding on the back of Scat is Newt, he’s fashioned some sort saddle and reins contraption.

The Gnome waves and reloads his crossbow; he’s tied down so there’s no chance of him falling off during the operation.

“Newt?” Jim continues to stare open mouthed.

CRUNCH

Cas however is all action, his longsword gouges into the Beetle’s carapace.

“DINNA. DINNA. DINNA.” Scat chants, which is a little off-putting.

FWUNG

Newt’s crossbow sings, but is slightly off tune, causing Jim to take emergency evasive action.

“Sorry my bad.” Newt calls over.
“Sorry doesn’t begin to cover it.” Jim shakes his head and leaps into the fray.

CRUNCH

The Beetle attempts to turn as the Goodman Gang hammer on its carapace, it’s desperate to get at them, ignoring the tottering Owlbear ahead of it.

CRUNCH

Alas, for the Beetle, the operation is spectacularly unsuccessful, the huge creature gets wedged in mid-turn, it’s helpless- legs kicking in the air.

Momma Owlbear seizes the opportunity, bites down and rips the side out of her attacker. Cas attacks from the other side, his new sword, although seemingly made of wood, slices easily through the armoured miscreant.

The Beetle is almost cut in two, soon dead, still high and dry, its little legs stop flailing and finally rest- Momma Owlbear continues to rage however, which also signals the Gang’s retreat, with Scat of course, although the Otyugh is reluctant to say goodbye to his “DINNA.”

“Get back, get back.” Jim calls.

The Gang fan back to the cave entrance.

“What the hell were you doing?” Jim stares hard at Newt.
“I dunno. I thought we could take him.” Newt shrugs.
“Why didn’t you wake me, I mean us?”
Newt shrugs again, sighs and looks skyward.
“We’re all alright aren’t we? Nobody’s hurt?”
“She is.” Jim points at the female Owlbear that has ceased raging and is licking its wounds now, in between taking bites from the Beetle carcass, the young Owlbears are also feeding.
Newt stares at the family scene.
“So. None of us were hurt. What’s your point?”
“My point is it could have been, scratch that, it was dangerous, we’re a team.”
“Whatever, you know who you sound like…” Newt shrugs and grins- impish, then giddy-up’s Scat off back towards their sleeping chamber.
“Newt. NEWT. We’re not finished. Newt.”
The Gnome doesn’t even look back.
“Leave him Jim. I can heal her.” Ala stares at Momma Owlbear, “if you can keep her calm?”
Jim nods, moves off cautiously, advances towards the Owlbear and her kids.

The rest of the Gang, except Cas, head back to the camp.

“I’ll keep an eye out from here, in case anything untoward should happen.” Cas states.
Jim nods back, looks crestfallen, then gets back to the job at hand.

The Paladin grins, from ear-to-ear.

Ten minutes later Ala and Cas return to the other members of the Gang, Jim is staying on with the patched up Owlbear, who still has a number of wounds. The procedure being only partially successful, it seems Owlbears are not keen on having anybody touch them, even female Clerics of Correllon that mean well.

Back at camp there’s an impenetrable silence, Newt probably knows he’s in the wrong, the others are certain of it, however their certainty is less apparent when it comes to taking sides. This is Newt after all; the wrong thing is often the right thing for the Rogue.

Two hours later Jim returns.

“I’ve cleared away what’s left of the Beetle, out of the lair- I don’t want predators attracted to the smell, that’ll give her half-a-chance…” Jim trails off.
It seems nobody else cares.
“We’d better get on.” The Ranger states, and then turns to Scat.
“This is goodbye…”
“DOWNUT LEAF ME. DUW-UNT.” Scat blubs and flails his tentacles at Jim, and Newt.
“Scat Bad, singy songy, od yure ad-went-yure. Scat gud Bad.”
Jim rubs Scat between the eyes, coating his hand in drying dung.
“We need to get into the Tower Scat, to rescue the Ghost of Balthazhar, we can’t stay here. You’ve been very helpful… Besides I’ll come back to see you, we all will.” Jim goes looking for confirmation, Newt nods back vigorously, Cas half-smiles, Anya and Ala go for their most expressionless look, Bec is definite, the Barbarian shakes his head.
“Anyway, I’ll come back to see you, I promise.”

Jim heads off, and where Jim goes, apparently the Goodman Gang follow, Newt hugs one of Scat faecal covered legs, then scurries off after the others, wiping his hands frantically.

Scat heaves and sobs, furiously waving all of his tentacles.

Fifteen minutes later the Gang surround the hole they found earlier, which Cas fell down, only to be rescued by Newt, the former location of the defunct Immovable Rods.

“HARK-SPIT.” Bec spits down the hole.
“Oi. Don’t do that, I’ve got to walk about down there.” Newt lowers himself over the side, Bec grips tight to the other end of the rope.

“Oh so it’s different now, okay for me to go ahead a little… Not so uptight now are you Mr. Ranger sir.”

Newt grins at Jim, winks, and then waves at the others- Bec continues to lower the Gnome down.

Newt looks below, into the sunrods flare, he ignites and throws another sunrod over to the right, light bathes the area- a large, damp cavern, roughly circular and about 100 feet in diameter, the ceiling 15 feet high. The edges of the room are surrounded by a dense undergrowth of giant mushrooms of all sizes and shapes. The growth is so thick that when Newt hits the cavern floor he can’t see much more than five feet through the fungal forest.

“SAFE.” Newt half-whispers, half-shouts back up.

Moments later Cas is being lowered down, the Paladin is just reaching the bottom when.

“NEE-NAH NEE-NAH NEE-NAH.”

“Shrieker”, then, “SHRIEKER.” Newt screams at Cas, then begins to hack at the offending fungi.

“SAFE.” Cas calls up, the rope is hoisted away, Cas meanwhile, rushes over to help Newt smash up the wailing mushroom. 

About twenty seconds later, with the noisy mushroom chopped beyond recognition, they wonder why they can still hear the Shrieker.

“NEE-NAH NEE-NAH NEE-NAH.”
“Wrong one.” Newt giggles, and nods towards a similar looking mushroom less than five feet away.
Cas nods and the pair set to hacking this terror to pieces.

Bec meanwhile arrives, a bumpy journey, what with him being considerably heavier than any of the other members of the Gang.

Cas and Newt are still swinging hard when Bec lands, takes a look about, shrugs his shoulders and then begins to slash furiously at the fungi surrounding him- all of it, its like making crop circles,

“OOOoooooOOOOOoooooOOOOoooooOOOOoooOOOoo.”
“WAHWAHWAAHWAHWAHWAAHWAHWAHWAAH.”

Which causes two more Shriekers in the chamber to make their presence felt.

The first Shrieker destroyed Cas heads over to give Bec a piece of his mind.

“BLOODY HELL BEC.”
“WHAT?”
“I SAID BLOODY HELL.”
“BLOODY WHAT?”
“HELL.”
“YES, I’M VERY WELL THANK YOU.”
“NO, I SAID…”
“EXCEPT THERE’S SOMETHING IN MY EAR.”
“WHAT?”
“EAR.”
“I’M NOT COMING ANY CLOSER, NOT UNLESS YOU PUT THAT SWORD DOWN.”

Anya meanwhile is gingerly slinking down the rope, whilst trying to lift her robe over her head to block out the noise, and at the same time hang on, the word is ungainly.

“Aaaaarrgghh.”

Cas suddenly staggers backwards, a long way, he stumbles, falls into a patch of fungi, sending bits of mushrooms and toadstools everywhere.

“Wha… Hel…” Is all he has to say on the matter.

The Paladin rubs at his hand, its purple and covered with white blisters which pulse and swell.

He chokes and vomits over himself.

DM’s Interlude Cas went from full hit points to 10 hit points, and lost 3 strength and 2 constitution- now that’s more like it.

Bec’s confused, as is Anya, the pair look about- what did that, both crouch- weapons facing forward, what just got Cas.

Neither of them spot the Purple Fungi that slithers close to the gound, following its prey, which in this instance is the fallen Paladin.

“Hot soup and blankets… too hot… spicey… kiss Anyaaaaaaarrrrgggggggggghhh.”

Cas, starts off his soliloquy, clearly delirious, and ends it facing his attacker again, the Purple Fungi, an ugly spindly tendril covered plant which looms over the Paladin, before it strikes.

Cas’ head thumps into the cavern floor, it gets very dark in there.

“Where’s Cas go?” Anya worries, “where’d he go?”
“He fell.” Bec points.

The pair head over, in search of their lost Paladin.

Behind them Newt faces off against the second Shrieker.

“It’s just me and you pal, there’s nowhere left for you to run, no place to hide.”
 “OOOoooooOOOOOoooooOOOOoooooOOOOoooOOOoo.”
“That’s not my problem do you thing I like doing this, do ya?”
 “OOOoooooOOOOOoooooOOOOoooooOOOOoooOOOoo.”
“Are you wailing at me? I don’t see anyone else here. Are you wailing at me?”
“OOOoooooOOOOOoooooOOOOoooooOOOOoooOOOoo.”
“Heh-Heh.” Newt giggles and grins.

Then unleashes his heavy mace and goes to smash the second Shrieker into fungi heaven.

POP

Something small and very important fails, or rather breaks, on the Gnome’s armour- result, he’s suddenly not wearing any armour, he’s tackle out, as it were.

Newt reddens gathers his armour up and sidles off to fix whatever’s wrong.

“OOOoooooOOOOOoooooOOOOoooooOOOOoooOOOoo.”

“There he is”, Anya points at the unconscious Cas, “Oh Pelor, Ala- get down here, it’s Cas, quick.” She rushes over.

Next Turn: It gets worse.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 96: It gets worse.

Bec suddenly turns right, something moving in the corner of his eye, it’s a Shrieker, it must be, his greatsword cuts a swathe in the fungi and sure enough another Shrieker is silenced, once and for all.

Movement again, Bec’s not done, his greatsword cuts again, mows down a straggly looking fungi, violet in colour, no matter- the Barbarian rushes over to help Ala down the last few feet of the rope. The second Violet Fungi is of course dead now, not that Bec knew what he was doing.

“There.” Bec points, Ala rushes over to Cas as fast as she can cutting a swathe through the fungi in the process.

Anya’s Mage Armour suddenly takes effect, she stands tall, trying to spot whatever struck Cas.
“He’s breathing, just- quickly.” She sees Ala coming. “There’s something in here, something dangerous. NEWT.”

Newt is hidden from sight, trying to fix the strap that’s broken on his armour; he knew he should have worn some pants today.

A little way from the Gnome a straggly looking violet coloured fungi snakes along the ground, getting closer by the moment.

“NEWT. Where are you?” Anya calls again.

“OOOoooooOOOOOoooooOOOOoooooOOOOoooOOOoo.”

“Will someone shut that bloody Shrieker up, it’s enough to wake the dead.”
Bec nods and marches off towards the offending fungi.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrgggggghhhhh.”

A nearly naked Newt leaps into the centre of the chamber, propelled by his magical boots. 

“Aaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhh.”

Newt leaps again, lands off-balance, almost trips- pointing back the way he came.

“There’s something there, creepy, straggly, like… what?”

The other members of the Goodman Gang are staring at him, at least those in the cavern, Jim’s only just starting down the rope now, he must have tied it off somewhere up top.

Actually they’re staring just past Newt, over his shoulder- behind the Gnome.

Newt turns.

“That’s a big stick-insect.”

GULP

What’s got six legs, is about ten feet long with giant mandibles, looks kinda insect-like, yellowy-brown in colour- earth tones, and must weigh over 800 pounds? Oh, and snacks on demi-humans…

The Ankheg arrives to see what all the fuss is about.

CHOMP.

Followed by.

FIZZLE

Newt is sent tumbling backwards by the force of the creatures half-bite, half-butt attack; he’s also covered in acid. Luckily his armour is ok, he isn’t wearing it, his skin seems to be less ok, it’s burning up. 

“.” It’s Bec’s turn to get literate.

The Ankheg emerges fully from a second cavern to the west, entrance previously concealed by the myriad fungi.

“Aaaaaaaargh.”

CRUNCH.

Jim drops the last ten or so feet into the chamber, and shatters his ankle.

The Ranger hobbles towards the giant insect, blocking out the pain.

“It bloody hurts. Ooooooo me foot.”

I said blocking out the pain.

“A little help, anyone…”

Jim stumbles on, a brave lad.

“Smidgin” Anya’s back in action, a pair of magic Missiles arc out from her hand, twist through the air and punch circular holes in the side of the Ankheg.

“RRRRRAAAAAAARRRRR.”

Who’s not happy.

“Cas.” Ala whispers.
“Whassup? Can I have a sandwich?” The Paladin awakes, courtesy of Ala’s healing hands.
“Just like old times”, Ala grins, leans in and kisses the Paladin full on the lips.
“Buffet?” Cas shakes his head, it’s all coming back to him- although the huge monster attacking Bec seems to be new.
“What’s…” He manages before Ala screams.
“Aaaaargghh.” That’s her now, right on time.
“What is it?”

Ala grabs the Paladin and pulls, dragging him back, out of the way, the side of the Priestesses face swells and pulses, buboes and blisters form, just like the ones on Cas.

Ala pulls with all her might, certainly faster than the Violet Fungi which twists and coils, then slinks along the ground, disappears back into the fungi forest.

The Ankheg snaps its jaws shut just short of the massive Barbarian, Bec steps back and swings hard, his blow shatters the armoured plates to the left hand side of the insect’s skull, a rich brown liquid spills from the rent.

The Ankheg sways, backs away slightly, wary of the Barbarian.

And in the same instance a strange looking fungi twists and turns, emerges from the undergrowth at the Barbarian’s feet, Bec notices the new arrival as it coils and rises, like a snake ready to dart in.

PUCK

The Barbarian kicks the Violet Fungi, sends it skidding back into its hiding place.

Bec dances forward, slashes hard, the Ankheg falls back again, retreats to the entrance to the second cavern chamber.

Ala dumps her man, Cas leans against the wall, watches her go.
“Chaffinch.” He waves.

The Priestess is out of breath when she crashes to her knees back at Newt’s body, she wipes as much as she can of the acid gunk off the mostly naked Gnome and at the same time sends healing pulses into Newt’s broken body, she cradles the Rogue’s head in her warm and loving arms.

His eyes blink open.

Newt makes vaguely mewling sounds then signals, a thumbs up. Ala drops Newt’s head, which thunks into the cavern floor and is up and off to see who else might need her efforts.

“Ha Ha.”

The Violent Fungi stretches out towards Bec, Jim however is ideally placed.

SWIPE

He slashes hard with his axe, destroying a good half of the plant, in effect cutting the thing in two.

“OOOoooooOOOOOoooooOOOOoooooOOOOoooOOOoo.”

The Shrieker’s still going, and in fine voice.

“Will someone please shut that thing up?”

Anya realises she’s talking to herself, everyone else seems to be otherwise engaged, either fighting or not dying, just.

“If you want something doing…” The Wizard heads over to the wailing fungi, toting her staff.

“Didn’t expect that did ya?” Jim is talking to the Violet Fungi, the strange plant remains closed mouthed on the subject, instead expends its energy on lashing out and lassoing the Ranger’s leg.

“My bad foot.”

Jim tumbles backwards, bad foot in the air- blisters begin to swell up, he suddenly feels very…

“I feel very…”

Jim’s sick all over, actually mostly over himself.

WHUMP

Followed by.

WHUMP

“OOOoooooOOOOOooooo...”

The Shrieker stops shrieking.

It’s suddenly unnervingly quiet.

“BUFFET.”

Bec continues to harry the Ankheg which again gives ground, they’re almost in to the second chamber now.

HACK-SPIT- BLEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUGHH

A line of Acid is projectile vomited back into the chamber by the Ankheg, Bec’s soaked, as is Anya, her robes are ruined, Bec’s armour not much better.

“Right for that- you die.”

The Barbarian lurches towards the Ankheg, greatsword out before him.

The giant insect continues to retreat; Bec follows it back, into the second chamber proper, an irregular cavern roughly triangular in shape. In the southwest corner is a well built stone chimney or pillar that stretches from the floor to the ceiling. It’s ten feet to a side. A huge pile of dung and refuse is heaped beside it. A little north of it along the wall a wide tunnel leads upwards at an acute angle.

Back in the first chamber Cas has had enough of lying around, a short spiritual interlude later and he’s back on his feet, less damaged than before, but equally giddy. 

The Paladin stumbles towards the second chamber, ostensibly to support Bec.

He collides with the cavern wall en route, as I say, still a little giddy after his brief lie-down.

“Will you all just please stop getting hurt, what am I some kind of walking first aid station, can we please try to work together, it’s a shambles just like it was at the beginning…” Ala harrumphs and stamps her foot.

A freshly healed Jim waves his thanks and dashes off in pursuit of the Violet Fungi.

The Ranger gambols and smashes his way through the fungi forest, a swathe of destruction in his wake, and more by luck than judgement stumbles upon the Violent Fungi, although half the fungi it once was.

The poisonous plant rears up before him.

SLICE

And is cut down in an instant.

Meanwhile Bec has backed the Ankheg almost as far as it can go, the horrible insect has taken a couple more blows, nothing major, but it has so far failed to connect with the tough Barbarian.

CRUNCH.

Its luck changes.

For the worst.

The Ankheg stoops to conquer, darts down to bite the Barbarian where he stands, miscalculates the distance and ends up smashing its mandibles in to the hard stone cavern floor.

Bec is at the creature in an instant.

CRUNCH

This time the Barbarian lands a decent blow, the Ankheg sheds armoured plates, a mandible, and gallons of its brown blood, it attempts to crawl away, as far away as it possibly can from the whirlwind of destruction before it,

CRUNCH

It doesn’t get far.

The giant insect wilts and slumps to the cavern floor.

Bec totes his greatsword over his shoulder and strides off back into the first chamber, passing a woozy looking Cas on the way.

Jim’s not well, Newt’s not well, Anya’s robes are near ruined, and she’s not exactly perky having been drenched in acid vomit. Ala is generally annoyed with the slipshod nature of the last series of encounters.

Bec’s ok, a little crispy at the edges, his armour could do with a clean, but generally happy with his lot.

He whistles a happy tune.

“Retreat, back to Scat- rest.” The Paladin mutters and then has to be lifted out of the chamber, as do many of the other members of the Goodman Gang by the hail and hearty Bec.

They retreat.

They rest.

While Scat watches over them.

“One WHISTLE, One PARP
Keep moving.
One FART, One TRUMP
One kick up the PUMP,
We’ll all be merry and SHIIITE.”

Next Turn: Back down the hole.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 97: Back down the hole.

The Gang come awake several hours later, none of them feel up to it, Jim has been interspersing his restless snoozing with swigs of his Antitoxin brew, and yet the Violet Fungi’s poison continues to ravage him- he feels itchy on the inside, and as sick as a dog.

Cas and Ala, who were likewise poisoned by the terrible fungi, suffer no further hurts- it seems they’re made of sturdier stuff, or else their respective deities are smiling down upon them.

“My bloody clothes, just look at my bloody clothes…” Anya’s really not happy. “They’re ruined, do you know how much this cost to have made? It better be dead Bec, it better be, if I find it’s still alive, I’ll… I’ll kill it. Ruined. Bloody thing.”

Anya returns to her high-pitched mumbling, all the time pawing at her ruined garments.

“Bloody giant stick insect.”

“We should take the day off.” Ala states while reclining on her blanket.
“No, we should rest a while and then re-enter the cavern, Bec said he saw something down there.” Cas sits up.
“Whatever we do I suggest we do it together this time, I’m fed up having to nurse maid the lot of you, there’s only so much I can do.”
“Ala I think you’re over dramatising the situation…”
“What?”
“I think…”
“I heard what you said, I just didn’t believe it. You were lying on the floor burbling like a moron- you’re still not right now, Jim was badly injured- still is, Newt was out cold for a while- burnt and poisoned, I had taken considerable damage, Anya was burnt half-to-death, Bec was the only one in fair health… Over-dramatising the situation, you should hear yourself sometimes.”
“I…”
“Who do you think you are?”
“I…”
Ala is up on her feet looming over Cas.
“The truth is you think that we’re here to complete your Holy Quest, you get it in your head that your cause is right and then its sod the consequences we’re off.”
“Ala, I don’t think…”
“Exactly.”
“It was my idea to come here, I told Cas about Balthazhar…” Anya speaks up.
And is met with a cold hard stare.
“Exactly.” Ala hisses.

It takes a good few hours of silence for the air to clear, not that they get any silence, Scat has taken up the harmonica, not that the Otyugh has a harmonica- he improvises. He’s remarkably adept at the high notes.

Four hours later the Gang are back in the fungi chamber, their move silently skills much improved, particularly as many of them don’t seem to be talking to each other.

They gather around the rope, get ready before moving off, and their direction is clear, since they were last here an enormous swathe has been cut through the fungi, a second exit from the chamber has been found, the path of destruction is slimy.

“Something slithered, that way.” Jim points to the chamber in which Bec fought the Ankheg, the Goodman Gang creep forward to see what new horror awaits them.

It takes a moment for their eyes to adjust, and to discern why partially digested pieces of the Ankheg are seemingly floating in the air.

“There’s a big jelly thing.” Newt rightly observes.

The Gelatinous Cube munches on savouring the wreck of the Ankheg.

“Ready.” Jim states, “fire.”

“FLAME ON.”

Anya’s Wand of Burning Hands gets to work, the Gelatinous Cube squeals, which sounds like nails on a blackboard.

FWUNGx2

And is suddenly punctured by two crossbow bolts which leave ragged holes in the Cubes outer surface.

Ala, Jim, Bec and Cas leap into the fray, and in less than ten seconds the blancmange baddie is reduced to a pool of goo.

“Now that’s how it should be done.” Jim states.
Cas smiles at the Ranger.
“Good work Jim.” Ala rubs Jim’s shoulder.
Cas’ smile disappears.

Anya unfurls a scroll, reads arcane words, she’s soon protected by a Mage Armour- spell. In a quiet moment she sidles over to Cas and rubs his shoulder, something approaching sympathy and concern, the Paladin fills out- suddenly looks much sturdier as her Endurance spell takes affect.

There’s a nest, of sorts, in the chamber, clearly the Ankheg’s lair- they wade through the goop and mush, winkle out money, gems and a few bits of equipment.


Courtesy of a Detect Magic spell from Anya they discover a ring, a chain shirt and a heavy mace, all magical- quite a horde.

“Don’t want it, dagger.” Bec is still refusing to trade in his magical dagger for the magical heavy mace.

“There’s something strange about that dagger.” Ala states.
And finds herself standing beside Anya, the Mage nods back.

Bec takes the chain shirt to replace his acid ravaged studded leather, Cas takes the heavy mace, a secondary weapon after his wooden sword, Jim grabs the ring, it offers some minor magical protection.

There’s a stone pillar in the chamber, on closer investigation, thanks Newt, it turns out to be a partially concealed staircase, up and down- the group head up, Newt sneaking forward to find the way.

There’s a small chamber up top, Newt soon opens the secret door and moves off into a larger chamber the 20-by-30 room has sat unused for many generations by the look of it. An inch-thick layer of dust covers the area, and the air is stale and parched. The room is filled with the tools of a torturer: manacles, hammers, wrenches, chains, a rack, and even an iron maiden lying in a corner.

“Torture chamber.” Newt muses.
“Disgusting.” Ala spits.

The Gang spread out, take a look around the wreck of the room.

Newt discovers two things, the first is a secret door in the northern wall, the stone panel slides aside, there’s a familiar looking chamber beyond.

The second thing he discovers is a set of thumbscrews; he discovers them in his pocket.

The secret door leads into the chamber between Scat and the Arugah’s, that’s Owlbears in old money.

“Down then.” Jim states, the crocodile of adventurer’s files away from the stairs, turns tail and heads back down, Newt leads them on again.

They descend quite a way.

“We’re deep.” Cas states.
“What’re you- a Dwarf?” Newt adds.
Ala smirks, doesn’t bother to hide her look when Cas turns back to spy her.

The spiral staircase descends more than 80 feet until it finally opens up into a 30-by-50 foot oval-shaped room with rounded corners and an exit through the north wall. A strange blue light pervades the chamber; it comes courtesy of the two force fields across the centre of the room- impeding further progress. There are also three levers on the walls.

The first lever is on the right-hand wall, only five feet from the stairs. Five feet beyond that is a transparent, shimmering blue force field, completely blocking the way forward.

Ten feet beyond this first force field there’s another lever on the left wall.

Ten feet beyond that is yet another shimmering blue force field, and finally there’s a third lever five feet beyond that on the right wall.

All the levers are in the up position.

“Bloody hell, it’s one of those intelligence tests thingies, I’m out.” Bec slumps to the floor and polishes his magical dagger.

“It’s obvious, it’s binary, each lever can either be up, one, or down, zero. We just need to work through the combinations- one-zero-zero, zero-one-zero, one-one-zero…”
“What are you talking about Cas?” Newt looks non-plussed.
“Well its binary isn’t it.” Cas shrugs.
“How many levers can you see?” Newt asks.
“One-two-three. Three.” Cas is fairly certain.
“Right, so do I.” Newt nods.
“Well..” Cas’ turn to look confused.
“So how many levers don’t you see?”
Anya and then Ala grin.
“How many levers don’t I see?” Cas parrots back, “What are you going on about?”
“Well, how many?”
“Don’t I see?”
“Yes.”
“None.”
“Right, same here- and that’s the answer. Binary, my arse.”

It goes quiet for a while; Cas is counting on his fingers, mouthing numbers, in binary.

“I don’t think I understand.”
“Well to continue your analogy, you do not know how many levers you don’t see. With me so far?” Newt winks at Jim.
“Yeah.” Cas thinks about it some more.
“So how about I go and take a look for the levers you and me can’t see- if there’s zero, then we’re back to your binary whatsit, but if I’m right, and I think the answer’s one, then we’re out of here. You know what your problem is?”
Cas shakes his head.
“You’re too trusting, you need to take a page out of my book, don’t believe anything you see or hear- too trusting, it’s a failure common to all Paladins.”

Newt giggles, swigs a Potion of Spider Climbing and shins up the wall, still grinning.

Five minutes later, and with a little help from Ala, Newt declares the first third of the room has nothing hidden- there’s only one lever, he pulls it down.

FZZZZZIT

The first force field is down.

Newt grins back again and scuttles along the wall into the second third of the chamber.

And sets to work.

“Masta, get fasta… something, something, something- Master of Poppets, he’s a funny guy…” Newt mutters to himself as he searches.

“Right then, there are four nozzle type things, two on this wall, and…”, Newt leans away from the wall and twists half-round to face, almost, the opposite wall- it’s a neat trick, “and two more on that wall”, he nods at the other wall. “Guess what, there’s also a lever, at least I think that’s what it is- more of a catch really… but, I count one Paladin.”

Newt grins, repositions himself so he’s at the catch.

“So my guess is…”

PlinkFZZZIT. 

The second force field is down, Newt climbs from the wall and bows at his audience.

“Binary, bloody binary- leave the thinking to those in the know, all that metal’s not good for you, you need air to the brain.”

Even Cas is forced to smile, sometimes the Gnome’s chiding can be cute, not so caustic.

“Come with me.”

Newt points at Anya, who’s a little surprised, if the truth be told.

“Me?”
“Aye, the brains trust.” Newt grins to show he’s only joking; gingerly Anya heads after the disappearing Rogue, who passes out of sight down the northern passage.

She turns and shrugs at her compatriots, still unsure why she has to follow the Rogue; the others are too full of bonhomie to care. Perhaps latter they will think it strange.

Anya’s the closest she’s ever been to the front of the party, she wipes her nose and looks down at her sleeve, checking she hasn’t got a nose-bleed; she’s very close to the action.


The pair follow the snaking corridor, perfectly formed by the way- obviously magic was involved in the excavating of these chambers, round to another long north-south room that measures 20 by 70 feet. The northernmost twenty-foot stretch of the east wall is filled with yet another shimmering blue force field, through which they can see a passage that winds to the southeast.

In the southern half of the room there are four simple holes in the floor, spaced about ten feet apart.

Newt crouches to take a look down one of them.

“Here’s the thing though Anya, there’s not much treasure in here is there?” Newt states.
Anya shakes her head unsure of where this conversation is going.
“Well I like money, I’ve never made a secret of it- avarice some people call it, others greed, whatever, they can call it what they like- I started with nothing, or at least not much, I want everything… Everything that’s coming to me.”
Anya nods her head again, still at sea.
“So what I suggest is we do a deal, if there’s anything to be had, well… we have it, I’m not leaving this place without a bag of goodies, or two… at least. I want paying and so far it’s bobbins. Do you get me?” Newt stops, turns and stares hard at Anya.
She thinks about it, then nods her head again, the fog lifted.

“They’re key holes.” Newt states.
“What?”
“Key holes- four of them.” Newt nods at the holes in the floor.
“Oh.” The Mage wanders over.
“Probably lower the force field, you got four keys?”
Anya shakes her head.
“Thought as much, looks like we’re going round again- this place sucks, no money, a whole bunch of traps, no money, the monsters are ferocious and… no money- did I mention that? Let’s go and get the others.”
Anya nods some more.
“And Anya, keep our little secret safe.” Newt nods once and strides off leaving the Mage to think about things- like what she’s just agreed too.

Next Turn: Things that go bump in the night.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 98: Things that go bump in the night.

Five minutes later and the entire Gang are standing round the key holes.
“We can’t have missed them.” Cas pleads.
“Well we have… I’ve not got them, anyone else want to own up to possessing four keys? Nope.” Newt replies while the other members of the Gang shrug and shake their heads.
“And that’s what lowers the force field- four keys?”
“I figure.” Newt shrugs.
“Well does it or doesn’t it?” Cas gets tetchy, bustles over to the smiling Gnome.
“Once again, for those at the back, I think so- four keys, one force field, me and Anya have checked the place over, so have you- there’s nothing else to find, I suggest we acquaint ourselves with the missing keys and put it to the test. If that’s alright with you tin man?” Newt grins up at Cas, who silently fumes.

“Come on then, let’s turn the force fields back on in the last chamber and get some rest, I think we need to gather our strength rather than keep pushing on, Cas?” Jim adds.

Cas continues to fume, then nods, no more than a slight incline, they head back to their favourite Otyugh Bard- Scat.

The Gang meet back up with Scat who is in hot pursuit of a large rat, “Jeeerm, yew is bakk, an no sqwished or anyfing, Oh Jeerm yew sow veri bwave.”

The Otyugh cuddles the Ranger, with no way out, Jim cuddles the Otyugh back.

“Jim’s got a girlfriend.” Newt chimes in, in a sing-song voice.

Anya looks daggers at the Gnome, Ala giggles like she’s thirteen again, Cas looks… looks- not quite how a Paladin should.

“I no girly-friends Jeerm.” Scat states somewhat indignant, “I hench-monsta, see-nyah Poppit, Jeerm Masta of Poppets. Aren’t I Jeerm, an Bad?”
Jim is less sure.

Ala giggles again.

It gets Jim’s attention, he smiles, it’s a winning smile- warm and fuzzy, Ala feels it all over.

There’s a lot of healing to be done, mostly minor wounds, nothing dramatic- just cuts and bruises from the Ankheg fight and before, Jim it seems is the worst hurt, certainly he gets the most attention from Ala.

The others are getting bedded down, Cas and Anya all the while keeping a close eye, surreptitiously, on Jim and Ala. The pair whisper in conversation, and when they think the others have finally drifted off to sleep- they head out of the chamber, to where Moma Owlbear still patrols.

“If you could just use some of your magic to heal her wounds- I don’t want them infecting, the kids wont stand a chance on their own.” Jim moves stealthily into the huge cavern, starlight filters in through the hole to the surface.
Ala nods, creeps closer to the Ranger, her eyes glisten in the light.
“Shhh.” Jim whispers, the pair creep close, Moma Owlbear is watching them, the kids fast asleep, one of them snorts, then snores on.
Ala smiles, Jim stifles a laugh and grins back at the Priestess.

They’re only feet away from the female Owlbear, a tear in the creatures side oozes blood and worse.

Jim creeps closer, Ala hunched behind him, the Ranger reaches back, grabs Ala’s forearm and reaches forward, guiding her touch, gently the Elf lays her hand on the huge monstrous creatures fur, a glowing light pulses and fades, the wound knits tight, all hurt instantly gone.

The Owlbear blinks one rheumy eye, half-sighs, and turns away from Jim and Ala, soon it is asleep.

The pair don’t move for ages.

Locked in their awkward embrace, it should be uncomfortable, and yet…

Back in the rest room, with Scat whistling and farting to himself, two pairs of eyes search the room lit by a guttering camp fire- two bedrolls are empty still, Jim and Ala, very soon after it’s four bedrolls that are empty.

Cas and Anya head off a little way in the opposite direction to Jim and Ala, into the smashed armoury.

Neither of them speaks for quite a while, eventually it’s Anya that breaks the silence.

“You ok?”
“Mmm.” Cas half-nods and wipes his brow.
“What do you think they’re doing?”
Cas stares hard at Anya, “I don’t know. I don’t want to know.”
The silence stretches.

“She’s very beautiful- Ala.”
Cas nods.
“How did you meet her?”
“It was years ago, I was very young- she looked after me, when I was growing up, she was beautiful then too, I asked her to marry me… I was only eight at the time.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she’d think about it, she thought I was joking.”
“Were you?”
“I was eight… It’s just that…”
“What?”
“Nothing’s changed- I still love her.” Cas sighs.
“Then why don’t you ask her- for an answer, at least you’d know?”
“That’s it though- I’m not sure I want to know.”
“How do you mean?”
“I don’t know how I’d react if she said no…”
“Cas.” Anya moves over to the Paladin, her hand smoothes his strong back, up to his shoulder, the nape of his neck.
“I don’t know what I’d do if she said yes.”
Cas meets Anya’s gaze.
“Oh.” Anya mouths.
Cas bows his head, unable to sustain her gaze.
“You should do what I do.”
Cas looks up, “what’s that?”
“Live for the moment.” Anya’s clothes fall away, Cas cannot help himself…

The next day the search is on.

In truth it takes very little time to locate the missing keys, less than thirty minutes in fact.

“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” Newt bends low to retrieve the last key, they're on the hands, or rather the keys are the index fingers of the Skeletons, the first four in the coffins, the ones that did not animate in the chamber with the statue of Meelkor in the centre.

“Skeleton Keys. SKell-Ing-TON Keys.” Newt raps on the side of his skull, as if to fix the logic of this inside.

The Gang are back at the impasse less than five minutes later.

“Now turn.” Newt orders.

Cas, Ala, Anya, and the Rogue, of course, twist the keys in unison, and the force field is gone.
“Oh.” Newt makes a discovery, “my key’s stuck.”
“Same.” Ala states.
Anya and Cas nod in agreement.
“Oh.” Newt adds to the mix.
“What does it matter?” Cas asks.
“Well, if we can’t take them with us that means that anyone can come along and lock us in.” Newt confirms.
“In where?” Cas enquires, not quite on the same page.
“They can turn the keys back and the force field will seal us in.”
“There’s got to be another way out?” Cas is certain.
“Well your mate Baltha-whatsit hasn’t found it for… Oh centuries, do you want to take the chance?”
“Oh.” Cas’ mouth is a perfect circle.
“Exactly.” Newt finishes.

CHUNG

Newt ducks and rolls in a rush, where his head was a moment ago a Barbarian’s foot now rests, the top of the Skeleton key is smashed off. Newt turns to look up at a grinning Bec.

“Now try and turn it.” The Barbarian adds.
Newt has a go.
“Nope, it’s wedged in tight”, he grins up at Bec.
“Brute force and ignorance saves the day.” Bec stifles a yawn and heads off.

The passage ahead splits north and south, south there’s a door, Newt heads over to investigate, and is soon through, he’s looking down a short hallway into a small 20-by-20 room, the Gnome creeps forward, so he can see into the chamber, he suddenly pulls up short studies the floor intently.

“What is it?” Jim whispers.
“Trap.” Newt states calmly and taps his foot on the floor.

Newt flings a lit sunrod into the chamber beyond.

On the far wall is a large human mouth some four feet across, seemingly carved into the wall. There is nothing else of note.

“Can you disarm it?” Jim asks.
“Do I want to?” Newt shoots back.
Jim thinks about it a while.

“Okay, we’ll leave it, see what lies north.”

The Gang move out and north, through another door, checked over by Newt.

The corridor turns immediately west.

“We’re heading in a circle- from where we came down, I think.” Cas studies his feet.
“Bloody Dwarf.” The Gnome mutters and slowly shuffles forward.

“There’s another one.”
“Another what?” Cas asks.
“Pit trap- I don’t like this, what is this place? Trap after trap, we take our time from here on, here Bec grab hold of this.”

Newt fetches out his trusty rope, ties it around his waist and throws the slack to Bec.

“Hold on tight, and the rest of you stay back a while.”
“’Kay.” Bec takes the strain, the others take a step, or two, back.

Newt swigs a potion, takes a couple of steps back and then leaps.

The Gnome lands ten to twelve feet away.

FRUMMMNG

The floor beneath his feet falls away.

“NEWT.” Bec screams, and grasps the rope tight.
“Okay.” The Gnome quickly calls back, Newt strides up the side of the pit trap and back to the surface, and the horizontal axis.
“Spider Climb- my favourite.” He grins.

There are three pairs of pit traps in total, the last staggered, the gap between the pair is over ten feet, that foxes the Gnome for a minute or two, but gravity helps him find the last of the pits.

Newt leads the Gang on, a long way south and then east, and finally a short distance north into a much larger smooth walled chamber.

“He’s right.” Newt comments.
“Who is?” Bec asks.
“The tin man- Cas, we’ve been going in a circle, can’t be much further north and we’ll be directly beneath the tower, I think.”
Cas looks suitably smug.  

Another long, oval-shaped room, 50 by 70 feet, with rounded corners. There’s a single door in the centre of the north wall, and a small metal chest sitting in the exact centre of the room.

“Bound to be trapped- take your time Newt. Stay alert people.” Cas offers.

The remaining members of the Goodman Gang squat and slump on the floor, clearly not ‘alert’, Cas grimaces.

“It’s a bit dull- all this thinking, no killing.” Bec states.
Anya finds herself nodding, then grinning at a frustrated looking Cas.
“I like to be in the action too.” Anya teases and then heads over to drape herself over a surprised looking Bec.

“There’s no tra…”

BOOM

Newt is suddenly very on fire.

The Gang scramble, Bec trips the flailing Gnome, many hands make light work of extinguishing the flames, Ala is as quick to pump her healing magics into the charred Gnome.

Nobody says anything for a good while, Newt shuffles over to a wall, still smoking lightly.

Time passes.

“What are we doing here?” Newt eventually breaks the silence.
“You know that.” Cas states.
“No, I’ve forgotten, remind me again”, the Gnome stares hard at the Paladin.
“We free the ghost, it tells us what’s going on, you remember- the Orc, the birds- Tsathzar Rho, you were there, for all of it.” Cas crosses his arms.

Time passes some more.

“Right, got it. Now what’s in it for me?” Newt holds the Paladin’s gaze.
“What do you mean Newt?” Ala asks.
“Reward. My reward for all of this?”
“You get a fare share of everything we find.”
“Which is?” The Gnome is quick to counter.
“Well, not much so far, admittedly, but there may be more treasure ahead to satisfy your cravings.” Cas sounds harsh.
“My cravings. My cravings.” Newt repeats and shakes his head.
“What?” Cas asks.
“I’m not in this for the feelgood factor, look we’ve been at this a while, yes?”
Cas, Bec then Jim, and the others nod their ascent- they’re all listening.
“Well when’s the big score coming, I want paying- for the risk, it’s trap after trap down here- heavy going and so far we’ve found buttons.”
Cas goes to interrupt, but is talked over.
“I want money Cas, I need money, my cravings- what rubbish. You’ll get yours in heaven, and before…”, Newt winks at Cas, which leaves the Paladin floundering, his eyes slide quickly over to Anya, then back. The Gnome continues- “I want my reward, I want something back, more than I’ve been getting- why do you think I’m doing this?”
“Because it’s your duty.”
“Ha.” Newt snorts, “duty, a measly word, used by a measly man- duty, what do you know of my duty- nothing.”

Anya heads over to Newt, tries to lay a hand on his shoulder, the Gnome shrugs past her and stutters over to the chest again.

“There better be buckets of cash at the end of this, else I’m done.”
“If that’s how you feel…” Cas begins.
“Yes. Yes, it is- now get back, give me some bloody room to work.”

The Gang mooch away.

“He’s mad.” Cas whispers to Ala.
“So am I.” Ala whispers back.

Next Turn: Rust in pieces.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 99: Rust in pieces.

Newt takes his sweet time at the chest, eventually a dull click signals his success.

“See- not a problem…” The far door slams open and barrelling from the chamber beyond come three strange looking creatures, the size and shape of very bid dogs, although armour plated- like armadillos, except with strange feathery antennas- Rust Monsters.

YELP

Newt yelps

Two of the creatures make a bee-line for him, get to within five or so feet then dodge left and right respectively, away from the fairly metal free Gnome.

“Ha ha.” Newt turns to see what he has wrought.

Behind him panic ensues.

“Rust Monsters.” Jim screams and then stares hard at the metal head of his magical battleaxe, “”, the Ranger back-peddles furiously, hooking his weapon on his belt and manoeuvring his wooden shield to block any attacks.

Cas slices at the first creature with wooden sword- he’s high wide and handsome, the creatures feathery antenna search out his armour, the Paladin is too quick, dodges back and away to circle the creature.

“Ackatt Swish.” Her animated wooden broom is unleashed, as usual to no great affect.

“SMIDGIN.” The Mage casts, two lightning fast balls of energy speed out and slam into the side of one of the Rust Monsters, leaving smoking holes in the creatures carapace.

Cas retreats some more attacking with his wooden sword, ineffectual blows that do little except keep the creature at bay, he tries to remove shield as he’s doing so, fumbles it- it hits the deck. Two Rust Monsters are immediately on the spot, their feathery antenna caress and stroke the metal, proboscis unfurl from their mouthparts- the shield is soon covered in red rust- destroyed.

Newt giggles a little as he lets fly with a shell shuriken, several of which he located on the body of the dead Undine they left in the desert, he misses and the potent magical weapon smashes into the far wall- spent. 

Ala is back out of the chamber entirely, struggling to get her sword away and her bow out.

The third Rust Monster charges headlong at Jim, licking its lips, metaphorically speaking, at the thought of Jim’s beautiful, and magical, breastplate. The Ranger scrambles back using his wooden shield to block the creature’s attacks, he swigs from a potion bottle, gets half of the contents down before thumping into a wall, and spilling the rest.

Bec meanwhile takes his time, it helps that he’s not in the thick of the action, his greatclub is soon in his hands, he strides forward and delivers a thunderous swing at one of the creatures engaged in devouring Cas’ shield, and misses by a mile.

Anya casts again, babbles arcane words, a dark cloud forms around the two creatures at the shield, instantly one of them squeals like a stuck pig and hares off, back out of the chamber, through the far door, Cas slices open the side of the thing in its passing.

Newt looses another of his shell shuriken, it slams into the side of the remaining shield-eater.

BOOM

A sonic wave explodes from the shell, wracking the Rust Monsters body, almost turning it turtle.

FWUNG

Ala’s bow sings, the arrow slams into the skull of the same foul creature which flops to the floor- deceased.

Jim slithers around the wall, trying it seems to get a step up, fending off the Rust Monster still with his wooden shield, he eventually gets a grip on the smooth wall and races up the vertical surface to crouch in the angle between the ceiling and wall, his Spider Climb potion is working.

Bec rushes over to the Rust Monster, now yelping and pawing at the smooth wall far beneath the cowering Ranger, the Barbarian swings with all his might, and misses again.

Swish shuffles over to help the Barbarian out, or else get in the way. Cas too heads over, delivering a raking attack to the Rust Monsters right rear leg, the creature is hobbling badly.

SLAM

Anya kicks the far door shut, trapping the third Rust Monster back in the unexplored chamber.

Ala can no longer see the remaining creature, Bec, Swish and Cas are in the way, she mutters a short prayer, head down momentarily, a glowing longsword appears in the air before her- instantly it sets off to slay the remaining monster.

Bec at last connects, smashes the club into the side of the armoured creature, crushing ribs.

And yet the creature fights on, surrounded and almost broken, an animal cornered, its feathery antenna dance and wave, it even attempts to bite Cas- it proves futile.

Swish connects with a devastating, who am I kidding, a slight tap- it’s enough to put the creature off its guard for Cas’ follow up blow- the Paladin runs the second Rust Monster through.

“All metal off- out the room, and guard the exit- Anya when I say go… Open the door, ‘kay.” Cas orders, and is instantly obeyed. 
“Go.”

Anya slams the door open. The third Rust Monster spills out, angrier than ever, cas and Bec are on it- Bec’s club makes a huge dent in its armour, Cas skewers it briefly and the Barbarian’s second over-head swing leaves the thing mashed on the floor.

“Good work.” Cas simply states and heads back to recover his armour.

Minutes later Newt leads the Gang out through the north door and into a short corridor, which ends in a blank wall.

“Back in a minute.” Newt shrugs and plods forward.

A good twenty minutes later.

“Got it.”

Stone grinds against stone, the wall recedes, there’s a doorway, well I never.

Newt heads on again, down a fifty-foot stretch of hallway which dead-ends at a single ornate iron door set in a curved white marble wall- the Tower. A shimmering blue force field floats six inches in front of the door. Less than three inches outside of the force field is yet another lever set in the up position.

“Do you mean to say he built this entire thing a put the lever to turn the force field off on the outside of the tower…” Newt bends double, he can’t hold it in.

“Ha ha ha, Oooooooh, the idiot, the absolute arse… I mean what sort of moron spends all that time, money and magic and then forgets to put the lever somewhere in reach. He’s a bloody loonie this…”

Anya pulls the lever.

Plk

The force field is gone, and standing next to Newt is the ghost of the tower, he doesn’t look as happy as he should, not for someone finally having been released after centuries of waiting- I wonder what it can be.

“Balthazhar.” Says Balthazhar, finishing off Newt’s sentence.
“OOpsy.” The Gnome squeaks and cowers.

Next Turn: Balthazhar.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 100: Balthazhar.

“Hello.” Newt waves and covers his face with his hands, “I’m sorry”, he adds in muffled tones.

The spectral wizard considers his options, settles for a chiding.

“You’re a very naughty Gnome, you ought to learn to be more careful with your words, alas now is not the time or the place to teach you a lesson. Now what were you saying?” Balthazhar stares at Anya, who gulps and then reddens.
“I wasn’t saying anything.” She stutters.
“Then remedy that situation immediately- what do you want, speak up?” Balthazhar straightens his spectral robes, looks more wizardly.
“Well…” Anya begins.
“Oh Balthazhar we have striven this day, or-so, to free you in order that you use your omniscient…”
“Hardly.” Newt whispers, and then slaps a hand across his mouth, Balthazhar glares at him.
“Powers of enlightenment to chase back the shadows from our minds, to bring clarity to… mud, muddy, muddiness…” Cas pulls up short.
“Do you even know what you are saying Paladin?” Balthazhar enquires.
“No, not really.” Cas finishes.
“Will somebody please…”
“Who’s this Tsathzhar Rho then?” Bec asks.
“Tsathzhar Rho is an Abomination, a wizard who refused to die, who was foolish enough to try to get the Elder Gods to do his bidding, he is gone from this place- and good riddance.”
Balthazhar looks out at a sea of nodding heads.
“What business have you with Tstahzhar Rho?”
“We fought a creature, an abomination, sometime ago, in a lair packed with mutated Kobolds, we thought nothing of it at the time. Then, just a little while ago, we were attacked in Grimbo…” Anya finds her stride at last.
“Grimbo… attacked, nothing odd about that- that’s hardly news.” Balthazhar interrupts.
“Yes well, we tracked our attacker, well sort of- we ended up in an ancient Druids circle, fighting a monstrous Orc priest who, well we’re not sure how, or why, but he seemed to say something to a bunch of blackbirds that flapped off. The Orc nearly managed to slay us all, on his own- the creature and its foul helpers, a bunch of mutated Kobolds again, and some feral Northern Barbarian women were all wearing this symbol”, Anya fetches out one of the crude three fingered hands, “which we know is something to do with Tsathzhar Rho.”
“Mmm. I see.” Balthazhar smudges an errant cuticle, which is difficult to do when you’re a ghost.
“We have spoken to Thistle, the Druid, and others- they seem to think that Tsathzhar Rho opened up a gateway to another plane, that somehow the Elder Gods, whatever they may be are heading this way.” Jim adds his twopenneth.
“Elder Gods, this way- if that’s the case I’ll get back in the tower and you can switch that thing back on again. So, you want to know what I know.”
“Yes.” Jim, Cas and Anya are certain.
“Right then- yes he did make a gateway, no I don’t know where it is, no I don’t know who these people are who are attacking you, although my guess would be someone you pissed off along the way.” Balthazhar delivers the last piece of information to Newt, and then settles on silence.

“Is there anything you know that you think might help us?” Bec asks.
“Well, maybe… Did the Orc have a strange weapon, an odd metal?”
“Yes, how did…” Ala begins.
“Blight. That’s what it’s called- Blight metal, I’m not sure but it would seem Tsathzhar Rho used a lot of the stuff in his experiments, not sure what for, I just remember stories of him dominating whole tribes of creatures and getting them to dig the stuff out of the ground- dangerous work, Blight’s incredibly rare, find it in swamps mostly, or near swamps- something to do with magic and… magic and something else. That’s all I know. Find the Blight that’s what I say. We done?” Balthazhar straightens his robes some more.
“Er… Ye…” Cas starts.
“Hang on.” Newt nudges the Paladin into silence.
“We’ve just rescued you from centuries of loneliness and… whatever, that’s it- that’s our reward. No wonder you lived way out here, all your friends close-by.”
“I lived alone.”
“Exactly.” Newt looks a little way beyond ticked off.
“Reward.” The Gnome stands hand out.
“Really, he’s so common.” Balthazhar states to the other members of the Goodman Gang, with as much disdain as he can muster in his voice.

The ghostly Mage thinks about it a while, then nods and grins.
“Take the lot- the Tower’s yours, and all its contents, if you want it and you CAN take it- and there’s plenty up there, enough to satisfy even a greedy little bastard like you.” Balthazhar pats Newt on the head, the Gnome shakes himself free of the spectral hand.

The Gnome needs no further urging, he’s through the ornate door and into the chamber beyond.

The others follow through, nodding or mouthing their thanks to Balthazhar en route. Cas even tries to shake the ghost Mage’s hand.

Anya pulls up short.

“Where are you going now?” She asks.
The spirit looks cross-eyed for a second, angry, very angry indeed.
“Back to Grimbo, there’s a few people I want to pay a visit on, if they’re still alive that is, which is doubtful- fortunately for them, I may have to content myself with dropping in on their ancestors- see how they’re getting on.”
Anya gulps, “You’re a little, well- angry.”
“How long did it take you to work your way through this maze of mine and turn off the force field?”
“About three days. Why?”
“Because, and regardless of what that stupid Gnome thinks, I had friends back then- in Grimbo, powerful friends, you’d have thought one of them would have taken the time to look me up, not leave me to go insane and starve to death in this cursed tower.” Balthazhar spits out the last.
“Oh. Well…”
“I’ll see you again.” 

Balthazhar is gone.

“Aaaaaaargh, not the comfy chair.” It’s Newt’s voice, he seems on-edge, perhaps even a little unhappy.

Next Turn: Practical solutions for the discerning Spellcaster.


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 101: Practical solutions for the discerning Spellcaster.

“Well this is just fecking lovely.” Newt screams while pulling his hair out and butting his head into a rather nice couch.

The Gang are stood about in a 70-foot-wide circular space of the most elegant design. The door they entered passed through seems to stand in space, attached to no wall. A staircase leads up a good way, spiralling up the side of the tower.

A soft white light illuminates the entire chamber. The room looks like a living area, with a couch, easy chair, table, wardrobe, bed, nightstand, desk, desk chair, and other miscellaneous furnishings. Bookshelves line the walls wherever there is space, and there seem to be hundreds, if not thousands, of books. 

A well dressed Skeleton sits slumped at the desk.

“Balthazhar?” Cas says.
“He’s gone.” Anya corrects.
“I meant the Skeleton- his remains.”
Anya nods back.

“Where’s the SOD-IN-TRESH-URR.” Newt continues to butt the couch.

“It’s here.” Ala adds and spreads her arms wide to encompass all of the chamber, Anya whispers arcane words, her Detect Magic spell gets working- she too can see the treasures that surround them, although what they do, well that’s another story.

The pair are certain that the following items show more than a trace of magical essence; the large wardrobe, the desk- nice piece of mahogany to boot, the lamps on the various tables- all four of them, the bed- four poster, the comfy chair- a little threadbare, and finally one of the larger bookcases.

Ala and Anya point at and name each of the items that are magical.

Anya can’t help herself, she claps her hands, clearly overjoyed with her new find, she loves the wardrobe, and the bed- it’s to die for, well not literally.

“This is all… marvellous.”
“You think?” Even Jim’s a little peeved.
“Not very portable is it?” Bec adds, or rather detracts.
“Still- a place of our own.” Anya mumbles on, claps her hands some more.
“What’s she on about?” Bec asks to blank stares.
“We should buy a house, in Grimbo.” Anya states, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“What?” Newt surfaces from shoving his head down the back of the sofa.
“Anya reckons we should buy a house.” Jim states.
“Why would we want to…” Newt tails off.
Bec grins, he likes the idea, “can I have my own room?”
“Yes, of course.” Anya states and goes on a tour of her new furniture.
“Excellent- can I paint it whatever colour I like?”
“Of course.”
“Can I have friends round?” Bec ploughs on, while Anya’s in a good mood.
“As long as they take their shoes off at the door, and their not too noisy.”
Now Bec is clapping.
“We’d need a garden.” Jim stares into the distance, remembering a time long gone.
“We’re not buying a house, and that’s bloody final.” Newt stamps his foot.
“You might not be but I am, and so’s Jim, and Bec, that’s right isn’t it boys?”
Bec and then Jim nod.
“And Cas, and Ala- if they want to, even you, you grouchy little Gnome, if you want to.” Anya moves swiftly to tickle the end of Newt’s nose.
“Oh. Imagine it.” The Mage crushes the Gnome to her bosom, “we could have dinner parties, I could dress up, the good china, nice food, fine wines, perhaps even a servant. Oh imagine it Newt.”
Anya releases the Gnome, who was close to suffocating, but not complaining.
“Yeah. Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Right then, onwards- to treasure, for the new house.” Newt leads them up the stairs.

“How you going to get that lot back?” Jim asks Anya.
“Now that’s magic.”
“Do you mean a horse and cart?”
“Oh the method of transport will be a horse and cart, but how I get the horse and cart in the first place, and the driver- that will be magic.” Anya confirms.
“And for magic read a very clingy, low cut, more of a belt than a skirt type of outfit?”
“That’s the one. Remember Jim the less there is of the outfit to see, the more there is of me…”

Jim grins, charmed, he’s half-pucker when he realises that Anya’s gone.

And the Gang are hot-footing it up the stairs led by Newt to see what else there is in the way of furnishings for their future abode.

Newt passes into a circular room the same size as the previous one. It appears to be a wizard’s laboratory. The room is strewn with tables, beakers, books, and miscellaneous equipment.

There are three 20-by-20 force cages arranged prominently around the room. The one along the west wall holds the second most beautiful woman Newt has ever seen: tall and captivating, with long blonde hair and an almost transparent robe. 

The force cage along the east wall holds perhaps the only other woman whose beauty
could exceed that of the blonde. She is a stunning brunette of tempting proportions.

The third force cage, along the south wall, holds a flight of stairs leading up. Beside it, outside the force cage, is a control panel with three buttons.

“Oh, thank goodness you’ve come! Please free me! I’ve been trapped here for centuries!” The Blonde starts up but is cut off by the Brunette…
“Don’t listen to her! She’s evil! Free me and I’ll tell you how to escape!”

“I don’t wanna escape.” Newt drools and looks all googly-eyed, “I wouldn’t mind if one, or perhaps both of you were to escape, at least for a little while.” The Gnome straightens an imaginary tie and hitches his pants up a bit- then gets to thinking, he calls back to his companions.

“Don’t come in here- it’s trapped… oh too late.”

And sure enough, in the midst of various mimes- combing hair, sniffing armpits, affecting a nonchalant, and yet very available, stance, and many others are the remainder of the Goodman Gang, well at least the males.

“Please save me! You don’t know what it’s been like in this tower with this – this – this fiend for all these years!” Cries the Blonde
“She’s lying! She’ll lead you to a trap! Let me free!” Counters the Brunette

“I’m beginning to enjoy this.” Newt rubs his hands together, “Bec, you wouldn’t go back down and fetch up the couch would you?”
Bec’s at stairs.
“Hold- clearly one of these hussies is lying and we must decide which… Cas?” Ala stares at the Paladin.
“Mmm sorry, I was- they’re hypnotic aren’t they.”
“What are?”
“Well their jiggling… er jigglies. Bec, that couch?”
“Tell me if anything happens.” And with that Bec’s off back down the stairs for the sofa.

“See the control panel? Push the far left button. It will free me. I will reward you if you free me!” The Blonde implores.

There’s a sudden rush for the control panel, even Bec is on the way to the panel, he obviously didn’t get far down the stairs.

“NO! Don’t listen to her! She’ll trap you! Push the middle button. All the others are traps!” The Brunette screams, and jiggles, it has to be said.

The adventurers pull up short of the trapped (maybe) control panel, transfixed- by jiggling.

“Say that again.” Newt croaks his mouth suddenly very dry.

“Get your own couch.” Bec sits on the floor.

“No, they’re not traps! The right button lifts the cage on the stairs, and the left button frees me. You can pass up the stairs if you’d like. But please, free me first!” The Blonde offers.

“No bother, I’ll check them for traps later.” Newt takes a seat next to Bec.

“Don’t fall for it! She’s evil! Only the middle button isn’t a trap!”
“Gotcha.” Newt stares on.

The two trapped women stop talking.

The chamber is suddenly full of the sound of heavy breathing.

“Men.” Anya whispers to Ala.
“Boys… more like.” Ala confirms.

The men, or rather males, continue to gawp at the beautiful women.

Who gawp back very aware that they have an audience, none of whom see to be interested in freeing them.

The Brunette makes her mind.

Winks at the audience and then dances- it has to be said, provocatively.

“Free the Brunette.”

The call is taken up.

“FREE THE JIGGLY ONE.”

Newt is in motion and at the control panel.
“Remember about the traps.” Bec warns not taking his eyes off the jiggling.
“Oh yeah.” Newt remembers.

“STOP.” It’s Ala, “not the Brunette, the Blonde- free her.”
“Why?” Cas doesn’t look round.
“Because she’s telling the truth.”
“How do you know?” Cas almost looks round.
“Because I can tell when someone is telling the truth Casimir la Frond, always.”
Cas looks round, gulps.
“Free the Blonde.” He adds.

“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.”

It gets very jiggly.

“Can we wait a while?” Bec asks.
“Free her in a bit?” Newt hopes.

“Oh bloody men.” Ala stomps over to the control panel and thumps the left button.

FZZZIT

The force cage around the Blonde figure winks out.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.”

The Brunette doesn’t seem that pleased.

POOF

And is gone only to be replaced by a small demon-like creature, no more than twelve inches high, red- with tiny wings, horns and a barbed tail- a Quasit.

“Urrrghh.” Newt is put off.
“Close call.” Bec gets up coving his lap with his backpack.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jim.” Jim states and offers his hand to the rescued woman.
“Sexist Pig.” Followed by a stinging slap.
“Is she a Demon too?” Newt looks to Cas for guidance.
“Nope, that’s all woman.”
“Nymph, actually.” The released woman, scratch that- Nymph, states.
“Cas what’s a Nymph?” Newt asks.
“A woodland spirit- of sorts.” Ala states, “they rely on their good looks an awful lot, they say their beauty was gifted to them by the woodland deities.”
“Wow.” Jim stares.
“To make up for their lack of brains.” Ala finishes.

“That’s not very nice- Elf.” The Nymph strolls over to confront Ala, she glides would be more the case.
“Sorry, it’s just that… well, you were stuck in there, and I’m out here- rescuing you. Not very bright of you- getting caught.”
The Nymph grimaces, then suddenly looks over her shoulder at the assembled men folk, still gawping.

The Nymph looks back to Ala- intently, then turns on her heels and strides over to Jim.

And snogs the face off him.

Ala experiences a lot of emotions in a very short space of time- anger wins the day.

But before she can react the Nymph strolls out of the room, down the stairs.

“You don’t know what you’re missing girl.”

She calls back.

There follows a large helping of stunned silence, although Jim suddenly has a very high opinion of himself.

“BITCH.” The Quasit screeches.
“Ditto.” Ala whispers.

“What just happened?” Cas looks mighty confused.

Next Turn: “Jean”


----------



## Goonalan

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5​
Turn 102: “Jean”

The far right button pressed the Gang, and in particular Newt, take the stairs three or four at a time- Newt making good use of his magical Ring of Jumping, they burst into the next level.

And more traps, tricks and charades.

“Damn- how much more of this is there?” Newt scuffs a boot on the floor and looks put out.

There are no other stairs in sight. Instead, there are seven doors. Three are spaced evenly along the eastern edge of the tower wall. Two more are in stand alone door frames in the middle of the room.

There are also two 10-by-10 force cages. In each of the force cages is another stand alone door frame with another door. 

The rest of the room is filled with magical apparatus of all kind, as well as several books open at seemingly random pages.

“Pelor’s dangly-parts, wake me when you’re done.” Newt heads back down the stairs to the first circular chamber, and the couch therein, five minutes later he’s snoring.

“Anya?” Cas asks.
And gets a nasty look from Ala.

“Ala?” He tries.

The female members of the Goodman Gang, the brains department, set to work.

Jim, Bec and Cas shuttle between rooms, each of them takes a turn at looking oddly at the Quasit downstairs, erasing previous jiggle-filled memories.

Over an hour later the Gang reconvene.

“So?” Newt goes back to scuffing a boot.
“They’re all locked.” Ala states.
“And the two force fields are impenetrable.” Anya states.

The women try to hide their smiles, fail.

“Go on?” Cas offers.

“Well at first we couldn’t see it…” Anya starts. 
“But then we applied Newt’s theory.” Ala finishes.

Newt looks suddenly very interested in proceedings.

“Go on?” Cas asks again.

“Well it’s not about the doors you can see…” Ala starts.
“It’s about the door you cannot see.” Anya finishes.
“To be precise- that one.” Ala points to a space on the outer wall of the tower.

“What door?” Cas looks the wall over.
“Exactly.” Anya smirks.

“You’ve been up there haven’t you?” Newt declares.

To smiles.

“You’re not going to like it.” Anya states.
“Especially you.” Ala stares at Newt.

“Feck.” And the Gnome is over and through the secret door.

The others follow after, Ala and Anya in less of a rush.

The top of the tower, the vault, the treasure, and Jean.

The room is literally piled high with coins – there must be thousands of gold pieces strewn about randomly. Various other glittering treasures can be seen peeking out of the piles of gold, including a three large spellbooks- Balthazhar’s spellbooks- Anya can’t tear her eyes away- although her overriding emotion seems to be regret.

However, sitting atop the pile in the centre of the room is a well-built man of a dark complexion, nearly twice as tall as a normal man. He holds up a warning hand and booms out in a jolly voice, “I am Jean. Please do not enter, my friends! I would not wish to harm you.”

“Jean?” Newt wonders.
“The Djinni.” Ala completes the circle.

“Djinni, aren’t they…” Bec begins.

“Indeed I have been tasked with guarding the treasure of ancient, and formerly addled, Balthazhar- I am equipped with all manner of spell-like powers far surpassing your skills, look- now you see me.” Jean demonstrates.

BLINK

Jean Djinni disappears from sight.

“Now you don’t.” Jean’s voice comes from the void.

BLINK

The Djinni appears next to Newt, who is mid-reach, about to grasp a handful of the gold coins.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Newt stops.

“Or else.” Newt spits back.
“Or else I will destroy you.” Jean brings clarity.

“Look there’s six of us…” Newt begins.
“Five.” Ala states, “I’m not fighting Jean, he’s one of the good guys.”
“Four.” Cas nods.
“Four to one then.” Newt barks, “still enough to take you.”
“Three- sorry Newt.” Jim bows his head, not wanting to meet the Gnomes eye.
“Two.” Bec squeaks and joins Jim in examining the floor in detail.
“One.” Anya states, and looks a little crestfallen, she drags her gaze away from Balthazhar’s spellbooks.
“You?” Newt spits.
“I can’t Newt, it would be… wrong.” Anya looks broken.
“Wrong. What do you; any of you know about what’s right or wrong?” Newt screams.
“Now that’s…” Cas starts up.
“Shut up. JUST SHUT UP WILL YOU. I’m thinking…” Newt goes quiet, very quiet.

Too quiet.

“Newt?” Jim asks.

The Gnome shakes his head.

“We, that is, I’m…” Anya has a go.

Newt shakes his head some more.

Seems to reach a decision.

Looks up.

And grins.

“Okay. Sorry- we’re alive, yeah- that’s what counts, we’ve got the information we need- look for the source of the Blight. Let’s get off then, yeah- yeah.

Newt heads off.

“Newt?” Cas calls after him.

There’s no reply.

“Very sensible, a wise decision. Take what you wish from the remainder of the Tower, I wish you well on your travels may you always feel the warmth of the sun on your backs.”

BLINK

Jean is gone from sight.

The Gang file out.

A mixture of emotions, a fair smattering of confusion- what just happened. To Newt?

Newt’s waiting for them outside of the tower, the rest of the Gang emerge into the light, the force field has gone from around the tower, the building looks older, much older, the white stone is pitted and scared, the elements are at work, making up for lost time.

“I’m okay.” Newt blinks in the sunlight, “really- it doesn’t matter, next time. I suppose- sorry, I’m… I’m just sorry- promise.” The Gnome grins.

Jim notices the Nymph, in the shadows of the over grown orchard.

“Watch out there’s…” Jim rushes over.
“I know, I’m calling him ‘slinky’.” A huge liana wraps itself around the Nymph, more of a warm cuddle than a deathly embrace, “nice ‘slinky’” The Nymph stokes and smoothes the Assassin Vine.

Clearly male, Jim thinks, and pulls up short, attempts a unconcerned saunter the remaining distance.

Which makes the Nymph blush.

Always a good sign, Jim thinks.

“Jim.” Jim proffers his hand.
“I think we’ve met.” The Nymph blushes again.
“Sharona.” The Nymph giggles leans in and kisses the Ranger on both cheeks- he can see the stars, and they’re not out yet.

“Blimey.” Jim remembers to breathe.

“These are for your companions.” Sharona hands over five cloaks, woodland greens and browns, “they will save your life, perhaps many times, wear them with pride- they are a gift of my people.”
“Thanks, I…” It’s Jim’s turn to blush.
“And… for you.” Sharona passes over a pair of leather goggles, odd looking things.
“They’re, that is… Mmm, lovely- what are they for?”
“Try them on.” Sharona floats over, or so it seems, till she’s behind Jim, her arms circle the Ranger, brush against him, she brings the goggles up, manoeuvres them on.

Jim staggers.

“Wow.”

But Sharona’s there to catch him, “Gotcha”, the Nymph whispers in Jim’s ear.

“I can see for miles, these are great. I mean…” Jim’s back to concentrating on the embrace, the feel of the Nymph’s body pressed against his.

“I’m…” He blunders.
“Now you can see me coming.” Sharona whispers some more.

Jim gawps.

The pressure of Nymph’s body against his lessons, he turns, turns, turns…

Sharona is gone.

Laughter.

Jim spins around to see the Nymph disappear into the overgrown orchard, and then she’s gone from sight.

Just the sound of laughter.

In his head.

“Jim. JIM. JIM. JIM.”

Eventually the Ranger looks round, it’s Cas calling- “what’d she want?”
Ala and Anya don’t look happy, Jim looks again at the orchard- “Nothing, reward.” He grins at Newt and heads over.

Hands over the cloaks, which all fit perfectly.

“Jeerm”, and is smothered by Scat, who hobbles around like a newborn in the light- not the Otyugh’s ideal environment- a creature of the dark by rule.

“Jeerm, kan I cum wit yew? Jeerm I yore Bard. Yore Poppit?”

DMs Interlude: Have you seen ‘Brief Encounter’, look away now.

“I can’t, we’re so… different.”
“Jeerm…”
“It would never work.”
“Burp Jeerm.”
“I can’t Scat, that is- not in the villages, or towns, or cities- they wouldn’t understand, they wouldn’t be able to see beyond the caked dung, three flailing tentacles, maw full of razor sharp teeth and the aroma of the sewer.”
“Jeerm.” Scat shakes- sobs.
“They’d say things behind your back, hurtful things, spiteful things, cruel things… they’d call you names, ridicule you- possibly lynch you.”
“Jeermmmmm.” Tentacles flail, hulking sobs accompanied by thunderous trumps.
“I have to go, you have to go on- we’ll see each other again, if not in this lifetime then in the next, we’ll always have the Mysterious Tower.”
“Jerm. Jerm. Jerm… Oh Jeeeeerm.” The tentacles capture the Ranger, crush him against the fetid lump that is Scat’s torso.
“Jeerm. Jerm. Jerm. Jerm. JeeeeermmM.” Scat squeezes some more.

Then breaks the clinch and shuffles off, receiving comforting slaps and pats en route from the other members of the Gang, back to the Tower.

“Scat. Cas salutes.
“Skat.” Bec mumbles and salutes also, tears spring forth.
“Good man.” Newt confirms and gingerly waves.
“We’ll miss you Scat.” Anya waves heartily.
“Thank you, brave, brave Scat.” Ala half-salutes, half-waves.

“We’ll see each other again.” Jim calls after the retreating ambulatory blob, “I promise Scat, I…” The Otyugh’s gone.

The village of Growl, the Red Lion Inn for food and rest, they collect their mounts from Bungo’s Stables and they’re gone- back to Grimbo. 

Next Turn: 112 Cabbage Street.


----------



## Richard Rawen

*sigh*

again.

Great story telling man, and, with the ... um... Songy, one of the best laughs I've ever had in Anything gaming related... truly top material lifelong.
Your talent, and the antics of your gaming groups, are and will be missed.

*sigh*


----------



## Goonalan

Richard Rawen said:


> *sigh*
> 
> again.
> 
> Great story telling man, and, with the ... um... Songy, one of the best laughs I've ever had in Anything gaming related... truly top material lifelong.
> Your talent, and the antics of your gaming groups, are and will be missed.
> 
> *sigh*




I'm not dead you know, you're worrying me RR what's with resurrecting all my dead stories- I've posted a new episode for the Whiterock crew. Obviously all this games died a death, and with 4e here... 

To be honest I'd forgotten completely that this story existed, just been having a look through it again, it was never that good anyway.

Scat the Otyugh was the best/funniest bit of it.

Anyway what's the deal?

Cheers Paul


----------



## Richard Rawen

Goonalan said:


> I'm not dead you know, you're worrying me RR what's with resurrecting all my dead stories- I've posted a new episode for the Whiterock crew. Obviously all this games died a death, and with 4e here...
> 
> To be honest I'd forgotten completely that this story existed, just been having a look through it again, it was never that good anyway.
> 
> Scat the Otyugh was the best/funniest bit of it.
> 
> Anyway what's the deal?
> 
> Cheers Paul



Heh, ok, so answers in order, just for kicks:
Glad you've not moved on and such.
Why worry, if nothing else I'm helping others to enjoy the antics of your heroes!
Thanks most sincerely for the new post, I'll be sure to rush over 
So sorry to hear that this had no further action.
4e: meh
"it was never that good anyway"   whatever.
Scat was quite likely the funniest character I've ever read in any context... though it does help quite a lot that I'm both a Metallica fan And familiar with the MoP lyrics... I almost cried laughing on that one.

Your low self-esteem aside, I quite enjoy your work and am sad to find the end of your stories.
That is the deal =-)

Off I go then, to enjoy what tidbits are added to Whiterock.
Cheers!
Richard


----------



## Goonalan

Richard Rawen said:


> Heh, ok, so answers in order, just for kicks:
> Glad you've not moved on and such.
> Why worry, if nothing else I'm helping others to enjoy the antics of your heroes!
> Thanks most sincerely for the new post, I'll be sure to rush over
> So sorry to hear that this had no further action.
> 4e: meh
> "it was never that good anyway"   whatever.
> Scat was quite likely the funniest character I've ever read in any context... though it does help quite a lot that I'm both a Metallica fan And familiar with the MoP lyrics... I almost cried laughing on that one.
> 
> Your low self-esteem aside, I quite enjoy your work and am sad to find the end of your stories.
> That is the deal =-)
> 
> Off I go then, to enjoy what tidbits are added to Whiterock.
> Cheers!
> Richard




Truth be told what with Life, Work and Play there's not a lot of time left to write, looking back I have no idea where I found the time to keep up one story hour never mind write two or more at once. The Goodman Gang never really clicked for me, the PCs started with one backstory and then quickly decided upon a different way of playing- which is there decision and made for lots of excellent sessions, which made it difficult at times for me to write. Also I was over-writing a lot. Finally the group dynamic was very strained at times- which meant I had to fill in more of the gaps.

With story hours like the Sunless Citadel one, I forget the name, then it was more a case of what to leave out, or sometimes me remembering things that happened which I wish I had included, why after I'd written and posted the sessions. The Goodman Gang were much more serious, and in many ways less fun to write at times.

Cat out of the bag, I write (sort of) for a living, my low self esteem is because unless I really try I'm not a good writer, and what with time (well see above) therefore my musings here are just that. I haven't re-read them since I posted them, until now, they make me cringe a little (sometimes).

Anyway, all that aside, thanks for the kind words, they are appreciated- I just prefer to beat myself up a little- I'm funnier than this in real life, just ask my Mrs.

I'll keep posting the White... damn, forgotten what it's called- I haven't checked to see how many there are, or even what they contain, they'll be as much a surprise for me as they will be for you.

Oh and I'm still writing- not often admittedly but see my sig.

Again, thanks- honest, good to hear from you again, always appreciated your comments, and great to see the Master, LB still going strong.

Cheers Paul


----------



## Goonalan

Turn 103: 112 Cabbage Street.

“We should be out there…” Cas screams.
“You’re just avoiding the issue.” Anya hollers back.
“Thistle has got a good lead, he says he knows where their might be a place, a swamp- Kobolds again, it’s got to be the place… Oh Anya.”

The rest of the Gang, sans Newt, sit around the improvised table in 112 Cabbage Street- their new home. Actually ’table’ is not strictly correct- two barrels and a door, and they’re sitting on crates, and staying out of the argument.

“We should investigate…” Cas starts.
“Responsibilities.” Anya states.
“What?”
“You’re always running away from your responsibilities Casimir.”
“I…”
“Always.”
“I…”
“Always Cas. Always.”

The Paladin slumps forward, defeated.

“Okay. Okay- what now?” He mumbles.
“Well there’s a choice of three- Misty Buff, Buffy Mist and Bec’s choice”, Anya looks unamused and glares at the now trembling Barbarian, “slapdash?”
“What colour is ‘slapdash’?” Cas murmurs, like he’s interested.
“Mostly yellow, although the stars and moons are bright pink.”
“We’re not having that.” Jim pipes up.
“I said that… but he insisted.” Anya relents; Bec has his hand on his sword.
“And the difference between Misty Buff and Buffy Mist?”
“Subtle.” Anya states.
“Misty Buff then.” Cas gently butts his head into the wooden door.

“Oh- Misty Buff. Oh. Okay… Are you sure?”
“Buffy Mist then.” Cas looks up, Anya’s not happy, he looks down again.
“Cas which colour would you prefer, it’s a simple question?”
“Misty Buff.”
“Certain?”
“Yep.”
“Not Buffy Mist?”
“Nope.”
“Positive?”
“Misty Buff Anya, Misty Buff- everytime.”

It goes quiet for a while, Cas peeks, Anya’s thinking about it- staring at the window, the end is in sight, he thinks.

“Okay but we’re going to have to re-think the curtains…”
“Aaaargggh.” 

The conversation continues, no that’s not the right word, circles- that’s better, for several hours more.

Till its just Anya and Cas left at the table, and its dark outside.

“Anya. Anya- I give in.” Cas has had enough.
“Are you sure?”
“YES.” Cas looks up again, Anya’s smiling- that’s got his interest.
“Positive?” Anya whispers, stands up and shivers out of her robe.
“Yes.” Cas sits up.
“Good- now get on the table.”

The Paladin does as he’s told.

The house is painted and decorated, the furniture arrives a little while after, from the Tower, most of it heads straight upstairs to Anya’s room, and less than two weeks later the house has become a home.

In which they all live happily ever after.

The End.

That do you Richard?


----------



## Jon Potter

*A lurker chimes in*



Goonalan said:


> In which they all live happily ever after.
> 
> The End.




Well... it's an ending. Not a particularly satisfying one, but at least there's closure.

Thanks for writing it up. Your story hour prompted me to pick up (and get hooked on) the Dungeon Crawl Classics. So thanks for that too!


----------



## Goonalan

Jon Potter said:


> Well... it's an ending. Not a particularly satisfying one, but at least there's closure.
> 
> Thanks for writing it up. Your story hour prompted me to pick up (and get hooked on) the Dungeon Crawl Classics. So thanks for that too!




Sorry and all that but other things claim my attention and as much as I would like to... I just can't after so long away, I had problems working out what was going on with Cas and Anya in the above post (which I wrote when I was still DMing the group, save the last two lines of course). My memory had Cas and Ala as an item; it took me thirty minutes of searching through past posts just to confirm that the above post wasn't written in error. It's alright working from notes but I've probably got two pages of them for the next scenario, I just don't remember what happened inbetween what I've got written down.

I feel bad now.

But happy that you found your way to Goodman Games, my present group (see sig) are trawling through Sellswords of Fallcrest (Punjar), then they head off to Keep on the Shadowfell, back to Fallcrest for Scions of Fallcrest (Punjar), then head out to Thunderspire. With 28 sessions played so far (there are lots of other interludes outside the listed scenarios, which I've adapted as well). Whisper it but the Goodman Games scenarios kick the arse of the Wizards stuff.

I've also taken to keeping comprehensive notes (lesson learned), although worringly the posts for the Friday Knights so far are all taken from the first page of my notes, only another 40+ pages of notes to catch up to where the Friday Knights are now.

Thanks again and sorry for the piss poor ending but in truth until Richard commented on this and Whiterock I had forgotten all about them.

Cheers Paul


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