# Tales of the Obsidian Hammers



## SableWyvern (Jun 11, 2002)

With nothing better to do, I've decided I might as well start a story hour. The campaign has been running for about six months; this first post is designed to briefly summarise what has transpired so far.

If anyone wants some more detail on anything, let me know, and I'll try and expand. Being 6 months condensed, this post won't be brimming with magnificient expression and detail. Some more PC background and info should follow in the not-too-distant future.


*The Setting*

The ongoing tale of the Obsidian Hammers occurs currently on the continent of Eastern Amoria. The stable, relatively peaceful Age of Empire passed into the Present Age some two hundred years ago. During the Age of Empire, the great empires were at their peak, and strife between them was rare and limited. Then came the Time of Chaos.

Exactly what caused the Time of Chaos, and what occured during it, is uncertain. What is known beyond doubt is that the gods withdrew and demons flooded the lands. Most people blame the Arcane Order for the calamity, and as such practicioners of magic have become viewed with distrust, fear and hatred. Among the major races, only the elves have not had their view of magic tainted - for they place the blame purely upon the heads of human wizards, whom they claim incapable of the maturity to wield arcane power safely.

Those with a religious bent do not suffer the persecutions of wizards and sorcerers, but they are generally looked upon with scorn. Few now follow the gods, for they withdrew their power when the Time of Chaos struck, and many people do not even realise that clerics and the like can still wield true power.

As for the demons that ravaged the land, most have disappeared, but far too many still remain. In Western Amoria, where what remains of the once mighty empires of Kadrendorst and Menria fight a seemingly endless battle for the disputed lands of Norral, demons are used frequently in their ceaseless wars.

Currently, the Obsidian Hammers reside in the Dallarn Freeholds, a region of city states that are more civilised than most places. Although the cities are regulalry at war, they remain interdependant, and total war would damage them all and make them a ripe target for outside forces. As such, battles are fought at prearranged places and times by mercenary forces. These battles may be fought for tribute, land, excise concessions, or anything else desirable by one state or another. The results of a battle are almost always honoured, and the defeated will hand over whatever they had staked.


*Friends from Esgaro*

The story of the Hammers began with a small group of friends from the township of Esgaro in the Freeholds. Of otherwise little interest, the town sits over the Urden River, and its fortified bridge is the only fixed crossing for 50 miles in either direction. Outside the direct sphere of control of any of the city states, the town is self sufficient, and makes extra income from the toll it charges passing mercenary companies - a fee large enough to generate substantial income, but not so high as to make it worthwhile for a company to lose the men they would, should they try and force a crossing.

Seven friends began their adventures when an old man stumbled into the local inn one evening, haggard and injured. Hiring a room, he was followed upstairs by a concerned young Ranger by the name of Rhael. The man did not deign to give his name, but saw innocence and genuine concern in the Ranger, and told a little of his tale, of a quest to unlock the secret keep of the fabled King Aldaran. His quest had led him to an ancient, long forgotten crypt that lay not far from the town, and Rhael volunteered his aid for when the man set out to the crypt the next morning. Rhael gained now clue as to the reason for the elderly gentleman's current condition, however.

The Ranger's friends agreed to help; all interested in a change from the hum-drum of their lives. Waramayl (Var-a-male) was a monk from the small monastery just outside of town, interested in nothing beyond self-discovery and testing his limits. Terjon was a devoted, insightful, but somewhat dim-witted paladin of Heironeous, who longed for some way to show the world that the gods had not abandoned it. Reikon (Rye-kon) was an elf of somewhat darker ethical disposition; he come to Esgaro as a youngster with his family, and was driven by a hatred of demons. Even his closest friends were unaware of his obsession, and were not entirely aware of his high consideration of ends rather than means. His family had links to ancient warrior cults, and he studied illusion and thievery with a bent towards one day finding the truth behind his history and joining such a society. Mareth, another elf, was considerably lighter in mood, a dashing fighter who had just recently began to study a little magic under Reikon. Entarsis was a fledgling sorcerer - unbeknownst to all but his closest friends, and serious about little else but his magics. Finally, the group was rounded out by Chade (Shade), a cleric of St Cuthbert, who was later to discover he did not truly have the disposition required for such a serious calling.

The next morning, as Rhael made his way back to the inn to meet his new-found friend, he heard an explosion. Rushing onwards, he saw four men in black plate mount their warhorses and ride away from the inn. Inside, the old man was dead, and a large silver ring he had worn around his neck missing.

The local constabulary was unimpressed - the man was clearly involved in magics (the explosion had caused a large hole in one wall of his room), and the town better off with him dead. No pursuit of the horsemen was made.

However, once the group of friends had assembled (Entarsis an hour late, not greatly interested in rising so early), their grand exploits began as they made their way to the crypt the dead man had spoken of...


*Character Profiles*
*Rhael*
_Lawful Good Human Ranger 6/Cleric of Heironeous 3_
Rhael is an adventuresome lover of the outdoors. Somewhat idealistic, he is a practical individual that wants a lot from life, but realises his limitations. Ultimately, he wants to do good and make the world a better place. Seeing the presence of demons in Amoria as the single greatest thing keeping the world unstable, he has made it his purpose to fight and defeat them whenever possible. Currently he is endeavouring to join the Knights of the Chalice.

*Waramayl*
_Lawful Neutral Human Monk 7_
Raised by the monastic order situated just outside Esgaroth, Waramayl knows little more than the rigid discipline of a monk. He is utterly unconcerned with worldly things, and while he is dedicated to his friends, he is with them really only to test himself in battle – in so doing, he seeks to learn about himself, his limitations and his abilities, and to become better at what he does. He has no real desire to use his increasing abilities for any particular purpose – self-improvement is an ends in itself, rather than a means to anything else.

*Terjon*
_Lawful Good Paladin of Heironeous 6._
Terjon sees it as his personal duty to restore the people’s faith in the gods. The powers granted by Heironeous allow him to defeat his foes, and even when this does not directly affect others, he ensures that the spoils of his victories are used to better the lives of the less well off. He is not a particularly smart individual, but he can be very insightful, and his confidence and genuine concern for others shows clearly through, making him a very likeable, if somewhat teased, member of the group.

*Mareth*
_Neutral Good Elf Fighter 4/Evoker 3_
Like many contemporary elves, Mareth grew up amongst humans, and has little knowledge of his elven ancestry. Originally, this did not greatly concern him, but ever since his death and raising by the centaur priest Longstride, he has been beset by nightmare visions of a dying tree and a forest in pain. Unable to discern the meaning of the visions, he has begun to try and seek information on his heritage. Inquisitive and adventurous, Mareth is most interested in pursuing an exciting lifestyle. When an opportunity to help others in the process raises itself, he will gladly participate, but one gets the sense that he is most concerned with enjoying life -  within certain boundaries, of course.

*Heykan*
_Chaotic Good Human Barbarian 1/Cleric of Kord 6_
Heykan is in some ways similar to Waramayl, in that he seeks to test his strength whenever possible. Unlike Waramayl, though, Heykan sees this testing as a form of worship of Kord; and considers his strength to bring with it a responsibility to help others. He has a strong sense of right and wrong, and unlike Rhael, Heykan has difficulty setting aside a just cause even when it is beyond him to meaningfully affect the situation.

A member of a disgraced clan, Heykan’s ultimate ambition is to return to his homeland and restore his clan’s honour.

*Shadow*
_Chaotic Good Human Rogue 7_
Shadow is concerned with one thing, and one thing alone: LOOT. Loot is lifeblood, the essence of all. He also interprets the term quite broadly. Cash, jewels and books are his favourite finds, but this rogue will do all in his power to leave any building, dungeon, castle or what-have-you with furniture, rugs, tapestries, paintings, door fittings, as well as anything else that isn’t nailed down and quite a few things that were. The biggest obstruction to his eternal search for loot is convincing other party members to help him carry stuff. When not pocketing loot, Shadow can generally be found doing one of two things: Either firing his longbow from up a tree, or using his brash, overconfident attitude to get the party into trouble.

*Takklin*
_Neutral? Dwarf Fighter 5_
Takklin is a relatively new character that hasn’t really been fleshed out yet.

*The Fallen (and missing)*
_Entarsis_ (Human Sorcerer): Hacked up by orcs while trapped in a Web.
_Ulric_ (Halfling Bard): Annoying git that wandered off and fell down a pit. Player commented that he had never before made a PC with a personality even he himself couldn’t stand.
_Rikon _(Elf Rogue/Illusionist): Abandoned the party after being given an ultimatum not to take a magical longsword from a tomb.
_Chade_ (Human Cleric of St Cuthbert): Left the party at the same time as Rikon, due to a personal crisis of faith (ie, the player had no interest (or ability) in playing even a vaguely Lawful Character).


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## TheOneTheTen (Jun 18, 2002)

Is this a known campaign world or one of your own creation?  'Amoria' sounds a bit Tolkien-esque.

With respect to the persecution of wizards - does that mean that it's a low-magic setting.  I ran one of those once - certainly made the players a little more cautious in combat, since clerics were very difficult to find.  What about magic items and supernatural monsters (apart from demons)?

Interested to hear a bit more about the characters - are all of them still alive?


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## cthuluftaghn (Jun 20, 2002)

So... will the next post be of new events.  What you have so far is all that has already come to pass, right?

I like your campaign setting... it has kind of a dark, and almost familiar feel to it.  TheOneTheTen was right.  Almost "Tollkienesque".


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## SableWyvern (Jun 26, 2002)

Hey, sorry I haven't responded guys.

At some point after first posting, I realised I really didn't have time to keep this updated. It's made especially difficult by the fact that my sessions generally run around 12hrs, so there's lots to add every time.

Since the thread had drifted a few pages away, I thought I could just safely let it die. Then, one of my players said he'd take over, and got back to me saying there were some questions asked.

Again, apologies.

*The One, The Ten* It's homebrew, but I'm using Greyhawk gods, and adapting various PrCs to the environment. I'm a tolkien fan, so there might be some subconscious influences. I know Alinulindal was inspired by the Ainulindale (which, IIRC, is actually pronounced A lin you lin da lay). I've slotted Fiery Dragon's _The Silver Summoning_ into a new region the group's going into, and I've got a couple old OD&D modules that will come into play later. So, it's 90% original, with a few modules thrown in here and there to help me out when I'm feeling particularly lazy.

Yep, it is low magic. I'll get around to posting PC profiles soon, since the thread's back in operation. Unfortunately, I had everything done, on my housemates computer, but his brother's got it, so I'm going to have to go back to scratch.

There are actually two clerics in the party, so healing isn't a major problem. The only arcane user is an elf ftr4/wiz3, who's looking like keeping levels even, so they are a bit deficient in that regard.

Currently, at average party level 7 or 8, a few of them have +1 weapons.

Magic items, and magic users, are out there, they just aren't common, and won't generally let on what they do. Clerics and the like aren't incredibly rare, but are usually weak.

They've met a few critters with DR, its caused a few problems (for them), but if they are prepared, they have enough magic weapon spells and +1 items to hold their own.

I'll try and get the profiles up soon, and I think my player should be along in the next few days to give a PC perspective update on what's going in (IIRC, there's only been one session since my last post).


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## cthuluftaghn (Jun 26, 2002)

I'll be glad to see it continue.  You don't have to write epic tales of your 12 hour sessions all at once.  A little snippet here and there will satisfy the lust of the Story Hour addicts


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## Rhael (Jun 26, 2002)

*Player's Perspective*

As mooted by SableWyvern in his last post, the Story of the Obsidian Hammers will be taken over by one of his players... me.

I will be providing as much detail as I possibly can from the start of the campaign, from the perspective of my character (probably with occasional notes relating to things going on where my character wasn't).   Although Sable has provided a summary of our exploits to date I hope to provide enough extra detail to keep the interest up.

I have to go back to the notes I made of the earlier sessions, but I should have the first part of our story up soon.


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## cthuluftaghn (Jun 27, 2002)

Cool!  Looking forward to it.


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## Rhael (Jun 27, 2002)

*Party Details*

*Rhael* [Rhay-ell](Human Ranger), *Reikon* [Rye-Con](Elf Rogue/Illusionist), *Terjon *[Ter-jon](Human Paladin), *Warramayl* [Varr-a-May-el](Human Monk), *Mareth* [Mar-Eth](Elf Fighter), *Entarsis* [Enn-tar-siss](Human Sorcerer), *Chade* [how it’s spelled] (Human Cleric of St Cuthbert)

*Final Notes before I begin*
While detailed where I can be, there are certain side-tracks that we followed and general buggerising around (which for some reason seems to take a long time), which I leave out of the story.  For instance, there was an otherwise pointless encounter a small fortress we came across which I leave out of the initial part of the story.  It didn’t result in any of the three ‘C’s (Combat, Conversation or Clues), or even a bit of humour, so I left it out.

Also, I’m going from memory on quite a lot of this stuff, so the early adventures will probably gloss over the bits that I can’t quite remember, and specifics will be more plentiful as time goes on.  I’ve just realised that I should have taken more notes during those early adventures…

For those who read through this, some feedback would be appreciated regarding the length - too long, too short, about right etc.

*It all started when one day…*

It was a windy night, we were in the tavern (strangely enough), drinking, taking the piss out of one-another and bemoaning the general lack of talent in Esgaro when the door slowly opened and a stranger appeared out of the darkness.  This was not unusual in and of itself, but this guy was not part of the usual mercenary crowd.

He lurched inside and stumbled toward the bar.  It wasn’t until he was fully in the light at the bar that I noticed that he was quite old, bedraggled looking and definitely injured.  He rented a room for the night and headed upstairs.  None of the other guys seemed particularly interested, so I wordlessly got up from the table and followed him upstairs.  I caught up to him just as he was opening the door to his room.  It was as he lit some candles in the room that I got a close look at him.  He was relatively nondescript, with the exception of an interesting disc he wore suspended from a leather thong about his neck.  

He waved off any concern regarding his injuries, but after some probing as to his presence in Esgaro on a night like that he told me of his quest.  His studies lead him to believe there was an ancient warrior’s tomb hidden in the forest to the north west of town.  

I did not let on, but I was a little skeptical at this, having spent a great deal of my time in the wilderness surrounding this town over the last six or seven years, and not come across any tombs.  He seemed very sure that this crypt lay within an hour’s walk near the northwest edge of the forest and contained vital clues to the unlocking of the keep of King Aldaran, now the subject of legend and bard’s tale.  Within the keep, he told me, was the power to save the world by turning back the tide of evil.

Always being up for a bit of saving the world and evil tide turning, and conscious of his state of health, I offered my escort when he set out the next morning and agreed to meet him in the common room at an hour before dawn.  I bid the old man goodnight and returned to my friends.

I informed them of my promise and the early start the next morn.  Terjon, probably my closest friend, due to the time we had spent training under the same master was willing and eager.  The others weren’t too concerned, but agreed to come along just to get out of town.  Entarsis balked at the early hour, but the others were okay with it.  I asked them not to drink too much and went home to get my gear together for the next day and to polish my sword.

*The Journey Begins.*

I was up and ready ahead of time, wanting to make sure the old man didn’t leave without me, and on my way to the tavern when a very loud explosion rocked the area.  It sounded like it had come from the tavern!  I broke into a run, my scabbard slapping against my thigh and rounded a corner just in time to see four riders covered head to toe in black plate armour mount their black war-horses and gallop out of town.

I drew my sword and sprinted, into the tavern common room where the innkeeper was emerging from a back room with bleary eyes, up the stairs and down the hall to the old man’s room.  The door was torn from it’s hinges and the destruction in the room rivals anything I had seen before or since.  A blackened hole about six feet in diameter had been torn out of one wall and the old man’s body was left a broken and battered heap on the floor.  The leather thong that was around his neck lay broken on the floor and the ring that had been attached was missing.  After I checked the body for any signs of life the constabulary arrived.

Over the next half-hour my friends turned up for our planned trip, similarly awed by the damage done to the room.  The constable who was in charge of the case was suitably unimpressed at the obvious involvement of magic and I remember thinking that he seemed almost happy the old man was dead.  No further investigation was carried out and no pursuit of the riders was made.  Case closed, apparently.  

We decided that if this was important enough for the old man to be dragging himself around the countryside to find, then we should take on his quest.  With the exception of Terj, the others didn’t seem overly eager but they agreed to come along.  Given that we had all our gear with us, we set off immediately.

The old man’s directions were not very specific, but at least we had an idea of where to look.  After about an hour and a half of exploring the area mentioned by the old man the night before we came across a stone embedded in the forest floor with ‘Enlor’ carved into it.  About twenty yards beyond it, toward the centre of the forest was what looked like a ruined temple with a heavy stone door.  It took myself, Terjon and Warramayl to get the door open and our reward was a dark passageway that smelled both musty and foul at the same time.

With Mareth and Warramayl carrying the torches, Terj and I lead the way into the tunnel.

*Raiders of the Lost Tomb*

Following the foul odour to the left of a three-way intersection we came across a group of goblins living in a room that most human families wouldn’t use for a privy.  Warramayl jumped at the chance for some combat, the rest of us followed suit and the gobbos were dispatched without too much red blood shed.

A little further on we encountered some more goblins, but it was a wall a short distance past their living quarters which was one of the more interesting finds of the trip.  The wall was at the end of a corridor and contained a nook, built into the wall over which was an inscription which, to paraphrase, said that Enlor’s hand had to be placed there and only those of Enlor’s blood could pass.  Of course, we had no idea what in the name of the gods that meant, so we all tried putting our hands on the stone, some quite tentatively – to no avail.

Backtracking through the tunnels we killed off some more of the putrid residents and found a piece of parchment, apparently unaffected by the scourge of time.  Mareth and Entarsis identified the writing as an alternate form of Draconic and also suspected that the contents were encoded.  Not wanting to disturb the document, the sorcerer made a copy (I had the requisite implements with me).  

*Note:  The text of this parchment can be found in my post entitled "Prophecy of the Inner Key"*

Our final encounter in the catacombs was the most frightening to date.  We stepped into a long, rectangular room, and the figure that appeared from the darkness beyond our torchlight has stayed with me.  A 6’ hulking stone figure, resembling a massive gargoyle with glowing red eyes slowly moved toward us.  Jumping to action, like the well-honed fighting unit we were, we attacked.  

Before we could strike it, it dealt an almost fatal blow to Terjon with it’s massive stone hand, who promptly retreated.  Finally, after near misses and glancing blows I finally struck what I believed to be a palpable hit to it’s shoulder.  After my strike, I was preparing to step back and watch another worthy adversary fall, but to my horror the cut (which seemed puny, considering the effort I put in) closed over almost immediately.

Drawing on my studies of other planar creatures and the knowledge that only enchanted weapons have a chance of doing permanent damage, I yelled to the group something to the effect that magical weapons were probably required to take this foe down and that we should remove ourselves post haste.

The group replied and we fled the room and the catacombs with me forming the rearguard.  After determining that the creature was not following us beyond the room, we all collapsed, exhausted, frightened and exhilarated on the forest floor outside the tomb.
“In the name of Hieroneous!  What was that?!”  Terjon gasped, between breaths.

We all shook our heads, wearily, having no idea of the exact nature of our foe.  Entarsis suspected an automaton, but he was noncommittal.

After Chade got St Cuthbert’s assistance with Terjon’s wounds, we made our way back to town.

My older sister, Brianna was studying with the local sage and given he was the only one in town who would have any idea about this document, it was for his residence that Mareth, Terjon and I headed after we cleaned ourselves up.  

We showed Matthias the copy of the parchment I had stowed in my scrollcase.  He looked at it over his spectacles and requested to hang onto it overnight to study it further.  Having studied with the man myself during the course of my life, I trusted him with the document and we agreed to the course of action.

After saying our thanks to Matthias we headed back to the tavern where we had predetermined our meeting to be.  I informed them of Matthias’ reaction and that we would return for the document the next morning.

The rest of the day and some of the evening was spent in the warm embrace of the tavern’s fire and a few too many ales.  We discussed everything except for the stone beast, there appeared to be a silent acknowledgement that it was off limits, at least for the moment.  I headed for bed late in the evening, wondering what Matthias would be able to tell us in the morning…


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## Rhael (Jun 30, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (002)*

*Aborted attempts at adventure...*

Unfortunately, Matthias was unable to tell us much about the scroll himself, but directed us to an associate of his in Baronil, a town about a week’s walk south of Esgaro.  Without wasting time with too much detail, we travelled south to meet with the scholar in Baronil.  The only notable event being a stopover in Norgar where Mareth entertained himself with a buxom (and experienced) young serving girl.  I overheard her later complaining that she couldn’t feel a thing.  Just kidding.

The man we were sent to meet was a surly bastard, but was able to provide us with a rough translation, but it took a couple of days.

According to the translation, the document spoke of warriors named Enlor and Adrestus, the kingdom of Mareciot, Alinulindal, Ninrandir (which is apparently a sword), however the entire thing was quite cryptic in it’s references.  The tombs of Adrestus and Enlor were mentioned, 'Adrestus nigh the mouths of the Temmersel' told us that he was relatively nearby.  From it's description of 'verdent realms' we discerned that the possible location of Adrestus’ tomb was the forest near Taureth – a major city on the coast, and near the end of the Temmersel (river) about a two week’s walk east of Esgaro.

We thanked the man, paid him and set off for home, then Taureth.  The trip to Taureth was uneventful, and as soon as we arrived we headed for an inn/tavern I had been to before with my father, the Drum and Sword.  The innkeeper, Farrel didn’t recognise me, but was happy to take our money and give us rooms.

That evening, sitting in the common room of the D&S we heard many rumours of the area, particularly relating to the area to the north-west of town known among the locals as the Hoardeep.  Reputedly haunted, rumours of great treasure, dragons, witches and a wizard’s tower reached our ears.  However, since many of the locals stayed away from the area, specific details were unavailable apart from the fact that the forest that lay approximately a half-hour walk from the city designated the beginning of the Hoardeep and we “really shouldn’t go there, it’s haunted!”

To expand slightly, apparently, there is a dragon, supposedly chromatic, possibly green or black living in a large hill towards the centre of the area.  People also spoke of a wizard’s tower, apparently built by a crazed wizard to keep suitors away from his daughter, or possibly for the specific purpose of testing adventurers.  Whichever reason was given for it’s creation, there is a great treasure for the taking by those who can conquer the tower’s tests.

As there was a decent chance that the crypt of Adrestus lay within this Hoardeep, it was there we decided we must go.

Some investigative work by Reikon told us of a reclusive scholarly group in Taureth referred to as the Loremasters who may be able to help with the finer points of the document we found.  Entarsis and I decided to visit them the next morning.


*The Loremasters*
The door was answered by a curt, but rather attractive red-headed woman in her late twenties or early thirties (perhaps) who inquired as to the reason for our presence.  When we explained that we sought information on a document found in an ancient tomb and we were taken into the sanctum.  I had never seen so many books in one place!  The rooms were oak-panelled, well lit, and very quiet.  We were lead through to a smaller room, still packed with books, with two large couches in it.  Sitting on one was a wizened man with a long white beard, who looked very scholarly.  I imagined Entarsis would like to look like that one day…  I chose my position on the couch very carefully – next to the red-head who answered the door.  She did not appear impressed.

The old man looked up from the scroll he was perusing, and I felt a little more at ease.  His first question was: 
“How did you find us?!”  I was surprised at the vitriol in his voice.
I stammered a reply that a man one of my friends met in a tavern had mentioned them and that was all I knew.
“Ah.  I believe I know of the person you speak of.  He shall be dealt with.  We do not condone the publicising of our presence or our work.  Now that you are aware of our existence and our location you are sworn to secrecy.”
I nodded my compliance with their request.
“Of course, sir.  We were unawa-“
“Of course you were!  How could you know?  However, if you remember nothing else from our conversation, warrior, remember that if we find out you have betrayed us we will not be inviting you back here for a little chat about it.  Am I understood?”
Once again, I nodded, wondering at the sort of power these people could bring to bear.  
“I understand.”  I said.  Hoping to placate the old man, I continued. “We merely came seeking information and were told that the Loremasters were the most likely to be able to assist.”

With that, the interrogation appeared to be over, but the remainder of the meeting was quite tense.  Entarsis and I began explaining our situation and our reasons for being there.

Leaving the original document in Enlor’s tomb cost us time, as the Loremasters requested the original document, not trusting the translation we had been given.  They also requested a hundred gold for their troubles which we paid our of our increasingly small collection of coins.  

They were able to give us some information for free, however.  When we described our meeting with the old man back in Esgaro, the black riders and the symbol on their armour.  They guessed, and they stressed ‘guessed’, that the black riders may have been representatives of the ‘Fists of Hextor’, an order devoted to the service of the evil god of tyranny (and half-brother of Terjon’s and, indeed, my own chosen deity, Hieroneous) numbering in the hundreds and “were not a foe to be trifled with.”

Warramayl and I travelled back to the tomb in Esgaro by horse (we could only afford two at the time), cutting the travelling time down considerably.

So, now two weeks after first arriving in Taureth and after travelling to Esgaro and back again we were prepared to head off into the Hoardeep the next morning.


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## SableWyvern (Jul 1, 2002)

Given that Rhael is giving a fairly detailed run-down of past events, I've deleted part of my original post.

I have also added PC profiles to my original, which I will update as required.


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## cthuluftaghn (Jul 3, 2002)

A lot of story packed into a little space.  Efficiently written... very good!


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## Rhael (Jul 4, 2002)

_(*Note:*  I have updated the second post (002), above, for some more details I remembered about our visit to the Loremasters.)_

*Into the Hoardeep*

We followed an obvious, but rarely-used road from Taureth to the rather expansive area known as the Hoardeep.  A half-hour of walking took us to the entrance to a coniferous forest, it didn’t _look_ haunted, but since none of us had seen a haunted forest before we didn’t really have much to go on.

Regardless of the impending doom the regulars at the Drum & Sword said would befall us and being the intrepid adventurers we were, we bravely ventured forth.

Given the build-up, initially the much-vaunted Hoardeep was a bit of a disappointment.  We had all expected to be hacking our way through ghosts, goblins and ghouls every step of the way.  In fact, initially at least, the Hoardeep was a fairly peaceful place.

After approximately an hour, we came across an idyllic, small clearing with a small pond in the centre.  On closer inspection, the water in the pond appeared to be glowing ever so slightly.  Chade tasted the water and upon vouching for the taste, we filled some waterskins from the pond.

A further two hours of walking lead us to a much larger clearing, maybe 200 yards across, from which two paths lead off, one in a westerly direction and another towards the southwest.  The clearing sloped upwards to the north-west corner and, of course, was surrounded by forest on all sides.  In roughly the middle of the clearing were three holes that each looked like the entrances to a cave.  Judging by their proximity, it would seem logical that they would all join up, but we’d just have to take a look to find out.

*Caves and sticks…*

We decided on the middle one and after lighting a couple of torches, with Terjon and myself leading the way we ventured forth.

_(*Note:*  The text relating to our adventures into the caves was spread over a long period of time, because we had to head back to town and heal up in between forays, I have summarised the more interesting areas without detailing every time we went back to town and came back again.)_

The caves were apparently a natural creation, but it was obvious that there had been (or was currently) residents based on scrape marks on the walls and footprints in the dirt.  It also appeared that some areas of the caves had been shored up with wooden beams.  The cave did not descend far into the earth, but the slight downward grade sloping land above our heads meant that we were, in fact, going further underground.  The cave wandered slightly, and there were some intersections, at which we had developed the habit of going left first.

A small group of what we guessed to be bugbears were the first residents we encountered.  Similar to the goblins in Enlor’s tomb, they had made their ‘home’ in some of the smaller caverns in the complex.  It was a pitched battle, we despatched our adversaries but not before Terjon received a near fatal blow from one of the bugbears’ morningstars and Warramayl was also injured.  Chade revived the paladin and was tending to Warramayl’s wounds when Mareth handed Terjon a waterskin.  Apparently, that was one of the skins filled at the glowing pond (either that, or the water in Taureth has miraculous healing properties), because Terjon’s wounds magically closed over and he claimed to be feeling just fine as he leapt to his feet.

Chade was very excited by this and floated the idea of opening a store near the pond to sell the magical water to the citizens of Taureth.  Apart from being generally appalled at the idea, I argued that it was impractical.  
“How can you expect people to travel for two hours, entering an area they are all scared witless of, just to come and buy water?”  I asked.
“Once they find out that it heals wounds, they will come.” He responded.
I left it at that and hoped he would forget about it.

Among the bugbear’s belongings we found a strange stick-like object with stylised spiders carved into it.  According to Entarsis it was magical and he figured it was probably a wand, but he would have to take some time to study it closely.  He appeared kind of excited.  We allowed the sorcerer to hang onto his pretty, new stick.
We found (and killed) two more groups of bugbears in the areas of the caves relatively close to the entrance and ascertained that all the cave entrances were connected to the same cave complex before we decided to head back to Taureth with our loot (some coins and other stuff we took from the bugbears).

Entarsis said that he needed some time alone with his new stick to attempt to identify what it did.  He also said that he needed a hundred gold to buy some material components for the spell he was going to cast.  We all dug deep and volunteered equal shares of the cash.  We stayed in Taureth the next day to allow Entarsis time to commune with the ‘wand’.  Reikon went off to do, well, whatever it is Reikon does when we’re not around.  Terjon went to a slummy section of Taureth to give away his portion of our loot.  The rest of us spent the time restocking our torch supplies and looking around town for some better quality weapons (and discovered that we couldn’t’ afford any).

We were sitting around in the common room when Entarsis came down from the room he was sharing with Warramayl, looking quite triumphant he walked purposefully over to our table and sat down.  

“It’s a wand of web.” He whispered so only we could hear him.  We all knew that Entarsis was a spellcaster and it didn’t worry us, but others are not so understanding.
“How many charges?” Reikon asked, being the only other arcane spellcaster in the group.
Entarsis looked a little embarrassed.  
“One.”
“One?!” I exclaimed in a voice loud enough to draw more glances from other patrons that I would have liked.
“One.”  Entarsis confirmed.
“We paid a hundred gold for that!?”
“Well, yes.”
“It had better come in useful.”
“Uh huh.”
“Oh well.  Hang onto it, that’s a damn expensive stick.”

We resolved to search deeper into the cave complex the next day.

*More caves, but no more sticks*

The journey to the caves was more exciting than the last one (just).  Being the rogue and the ranger in the group, Reikon and I regularly scout ahead of the group to, hopefully, provide some early warning of danger in our path.
Today, we found some.  About a hundred yards ahead of the group to the left-hand side of the path were a trio of owlbears, headed directly for us.  I made the birdcall that Reikon and I had worked out, indicating that we should head back to the group.  I heard the reply and hurried the fifty feet back to the group.  

Terjon halted the group as I ran up to them, waiting for information.  
“Three owlbears to the West Nor-West.”  Remembering their reputation for ferociousness the next move was obvious.  “We’ll go this way and skirt around them.”  I continued, pointing to the south.   Warramayl looked disappointed.  “Don’t worry, Warra.”  I remarked as we hurried southwards, “you’ll have plenty more chances to die.”

We stopped roughly three hundred yards from the path, where I paused to make sure of our bearings before we set off in the direction I determined to be west.  Remembering the roughly south-westerly direction the path we took two days hence, I figured we would meet it again if we continued in this direction.

Sure enough we once again arrived at the clearing and headed for the cave entrances – the north-most was chosen this time.

We were soon back in familiar territory, revisiting the bugbear lairs to ensure they had not been repopulated.  After determining that they were still empty.  Working our way what I guessed to be roughly north-wards, we found a very large cavern of indeterminate length.  Sticking close to the wall, we headed along it’s length.  

I don’t know how I missed it, but before we could react a purple tentacle-like object whipped out of nowhere and hammered me against the cave wall.  In the next few seconds, which seemed to go very slowly, three more tentacles struck at Terjon, Warramayl and Entarsis from out of the darkness.  Fortunately, the initial attack on yours truly had given them time to dodge attacks coming there way.

“Come on, guys.”  I winced as I gulped the air that had been driven from my body.  “We’ll get out of it’s range.”  I got to my feet and started moving north.  Hugging the wall, myself, Mareth and Entarsis headed away from the area where the purple tentacles were.  “Let’s go!”  I yelled as I saw Chade suddenly burst into light then throw the source of the light, a copper piece, toward our attacker.  Reikon was already loading an arrow into his longbow, Warramayl had his sling out and Terjon was pulling out his sword.  Damn them!  I was in the process of yelling “It’s just a plant“ when I was cut off by an ear-piercing shriek.  On the edge of the torchlight was an apparently immobile, disgusting little bubble-like creature covered in eyes and mouths, from which the noise was coming. 

Unable to concentrate on what Terjon and the others were doing against their barely-sentient adversary and finding myself unable to move with my hands over my ears, I could only watch as Mareth drew his rapier and ran at the bubble-beastie.  Entarsis moved a little closer to give Mareth light and started muttering to himself and moving his free hand.  A glowing, magical dart sprang forth from his outstretched hand and plunged into the bubble, just as Mareth struck it with his rapier.  Entarsis pulled out his sling, I found my feet had returned to my control and we made short work of little-mr-screeching-bubble-thing.

When we returned to the site of the purple tentacle-plant, we could see several Reikon’s arrows protruding from it’s centre-mass and several of it’s tentacles hacked off.  Warramayl was nursing a bruised shoulder, which Chade was attending to and Terjon was wiping some purple ichor from his longsword and Reikon was retrieving Chade’s copper piece.

“Well, that was fun.”  I remarked.  “You okay, Warra?”
“Yeah.”
“By the gods!”  Chade exclaimed.  “What was that noise!?”
“That squashed thing over there.”  Mareth pointed vaguely in the direction of the dead bubble-beastie.
“If I never see one of those again, it will be too soon.”  Entarsis added.
“Any idea what either of these things were, Rhael?”  Reikon asked me.
“Nup.” I replied.  “Let’s just hope there are no more.”
The others nodded their agreement as we resumed our exploration of the cave.

Finding no more assailants in the cave depths, we made it to the other end.  At the end was a pool of water, completely black because of the lack of light, and obviously relatively deep.  Reikon took off his pack and extracted a small frog.
“Where’d the frog come from, Reik?”  Chade asked the obvious question.
“He’s my familiar.”  Reikon replied.  “Like Entarsis’ rat.”
“Oh.”  Chade obviously understood the whole thing just as well as the rest of us, because he just left it there.
“I’m going to get him to swim into the pond and tell me how deep it is.”  With that, he pushed the frog toward the water’s edge, into which the frog gleefully leapt.  Needless to say, I was sceptical, and I could tell that Terj shared my feelings.

After a few minutes, the frog returned to the surface and Reikon picked him up, looking disappointed.
“Of course, I failed to realise that frogs can’t count and certainly can’t measure.  Damn.”  He looked meaningfully at the wet, green amphibian.  “I hope you enjoyed yourself.”  I was shocked to see the frog nod, almost imperceptibly, but didn’t bother mentioning it.

“Oh well.  Back the way we came.”  Mareth said.  

With that, we turned away from the pool and walked back to the entrance to the large cave.


----------



## Rhael (Jul 9, 2002)

*Death awaits with big, nasty, pointy teeth!*
After leaving the large cave, deciding that the water could be explored more thoroughly when we were next really bored, we took a left and headed further into the cave complex.

We had taken an offshoot from a larger tunnel, when Reikon, who was leading the way, called a halt.  He pointed at the ceiling of the cave and held his torch up so we could see.  I looked, amazed that he had spotted anything in this gloom and was surprised to see the lower three or four inches of a portcullis sticking out the rock.  Closer inspection of the floor revealed the grooves in which the portcullis sat when lowered.  Beyond the ‘doorway’ we could see a room, which appeared to have another exit in the left wall.

Reikon checked the area to ensure that the portcullis was not trapped, and we cautiously stepped through the area into the room.  It was a thirty foot square, with us on the left hand side with the opening directly behind us and the other doorway in the left hand wall in the far corner.

_* Note: * The following section, up to the mark saying ‘end of modified section’, has been modified from the original post based on some fairly major corrections from the GM of this campaign relating to the encounter, which I obviously didn’t remember as well as I thought I did.  I _really_ should have taken more notes on those early sessions.  I have borrowed heavily from his post as far as the text of this next section goes, because he captured it very well.  Thanks, Sable.  - Rhael_ 

We were halted, mid-step by a language we did not understand.  The voice then spoke again, apparently in another language, before finally saying, in what can be loosely called common: 
“Halt. What is your business here?”

As we contemplated a response, Chade decided he wanted to know who was speaking to the group.  His favourite trick of casting Light on a coin and into the darknesss seemed like a good idea, so he set about this task.  Unfortunately, certain dwarves apparently did not appreciate him beginning to chant the strange and mystical language of spellcasting because the portcullis behind us was closed suddenly, separating Entarsis and Reikon from the rest of the party.  From out of the darkness we were pelted with crossbow bolts before being charged by a wave of four scalemail-clad dwarves followed by a larger dwarf covered in full plate mail, obviously the leader.  (Rhael’s first rule of adventuring is starting to take shape:  _“Stay well away from the guys wearing full plate.”_)  They seemed shorter than the dwarves I had seen and they had grey skin.

“Duergar”  I commented, loud enough for my companions to hear.
“This isn’t good.”  Mareth remarked dryly, as we all raised our weapons to meet the charge.

Reikon started taking shots with his bow from behind the portcullis and I could hear Entarsis chanting, and when the first of them went down from a stroke of my blade, the leader yelled with rage and advanced on me.  I found myself in a pitched battle with him, while the others fought off his lackeys.  By the time we had taken them all down, Mareth was unconscious, Chade had a gash on his upper arm and Terjon was looking a little worse for wear.

Moments after the leader went down, more duergar appeared from a side passage.  Watching us, almost warily but with fury in their eyes.

Reikon then said something hasty and ill-advised (as he did fairly regularly), the dwarves shouted in rage and attacked.  In killing the second group, no further of our number were knocked out, but we had taken more damage.  Warramayl was now limping badly and I had a gash on my side.

“We can’t take another group on!”  Terjon whispered, tersely.  “Rhael, Warra.  Help me open the portcullis.”

In the breathing space we thought we had, we turned and attempted to lift the portcullis.  Chade cast a spell on Mareth to get him to his feet, though still weak Mareth waved off any support and leaned against the wall instead.  

Unfortunately, before we could make any headway with the portcullis, we could hear another group of dwarves approaching from the shadows.  One stepped forward into our torchlight.

“What are ye doin’ ‘ere!?”  Asked the spokesman.
“We are adventurers.”  Chade retorted.  “We were exploring this cave complex and ended up here.”
“Do you have any idea where ye are, adventurers?”  The last word was said with a caustic sarcasm I didn’t think he could possibly get across with that accent.
“We do not know exactly where we are, except that we are in a cave system.”  I replied. 
“Ye near the entrance to the Underdark.”  The dwarf stated. 
“By the gods!” Entarsis exclaimed in a whisper.  He had obviously heard all the same stories regarding that place as I had.
“That’s right, Human.  And ye be trapped.  While ye obviously be strong, we are legion.  Hundreds of my kin wait to join this fight.  However, for a mere fifty gold ye can be reunited with ye’re comrades and no more blood need be shed.”

I looked around.  I was pretty happy with that offer, considering our circumstances.  Unfortunately I wasn’t close enough to Chade to stop him opening his mouth…

“You should give us fifty gold to stop _us_ from killing _you_!”  He said.
The dwarf was obviously, and not surprisingly unimpressed with this statement.
“One hundred gold.”  Said the dwarf.  As we started to reach for our money pouches, I heard Chade inhale again.
He laughed. “There aren't hundreds of them,” he whispered, obviously intending only we hear him  “There can't be.”
The dwarf’s face betrayed his anger. 
“Two hundred gold, and one more word from _that one_ and ye all die!”

As we physically had to restrain and silence Chade, we emptied the counted out the required funds and gave the coins to the dwarf in Chade’s money pouch.

The duergar hefted the pouch, and inspected the contents.  True to his word, as soon as he had his money, the portcullis was raised and we were allowed to leave, unmolested.  Once Chade was no longer restrained, he began to curse, complain and generally voice his disapproval.  
“We could've taken them.”  He commented loudly and bitterly.

None of us were particularly enamoured of the cleric at that point.
“Regardless, there was still an iron portcullis between us and freedom.”  Noted Mareth.
“And it hardly matters now, does it?”  It was obviously a rhetorical question, but I had to say it.
Chade grumbled.

Terjon spoke next.  “I say we get the hell out of here.”

*End modified section.* 

We didn’t mind that idea of that and we headed for the cave entrance.

“We should use the healing pond.”  Chade said as we left the large clearing.
“I agree.”  Reikon and Terjon both said at once.
“Hmmm.  Not a bad idea.  We’ll do that.”  It was a good idea, how could I disagree with that.

We got to the clearing with the glowing pond and sat down on the soft, green grass (itself unusual in the middle of a conifer forest).  Mareth went first, his numerous wounds closing over in a matter of moments.  Chade drank, followed by me.  It was when Terjon took a drink that we realised that the pool had limitations.  Nothing happened.

“What’s going on?!”  Terjon sounded worried as he drank some more of the water, thinking that he hadn’t drank enough.
“It only works once.”  Terjon looked at the cleric in confusion.  “It only works once per person and you drank the water from the waterskin back in the cave, remember?”  Chade repeated, with more detail for the paladin’s benefit.
Terjon sank back on his haunches, disappointed.
“Oh, well.  There goes your healing water shop, eh, Chade.”  I joked.
“I guess so.”  He replied.
“Back to good, old fashioned, divine healing spells, huh?”  Entarsis was in a strangely jovial mood.
“I guess so.”  Chade repeated his previous answer as he knelt next to Terjon and cast some curative spells on him.

Since we were all feeling fine and it was still early, we decided to head back to the cave.  We found our way back to the path leading to the duergar, but instead of taking the offshoot we continued on.  The path sloped down on a greater angle, and the footing was a little more unsure, but it was slow going, but not difficult travel.

We stopped for a brief rest at a point where the cave opened up, creating a doorway into a small room.  Reikon was leaning against the cave wall when I heard a brief woosh-like sound then heard three noises, two were like arrows thudding into armour and the last had the distinctive noise of striking flesh.  I heard Reikon gurgle slightly as the torch slipped from his grip and he fell to the floor, three black spines about five or six inches long protruding from his torso and upper arm.

Before we could react, we were bombarded again.  This time, Terjon and Mareth were struck and one spine glanced off the cave wall.   From the darkness out of the reach of our torchlight we heard some low, gutteral growling, then two huge, human-like faces, surrounded by a mane of fur emerged at a run and attacked!
“Manticores!”  I yelled, in horror.

Terjon, Mareth, Warramayl and I only had time to form a line across the opening before the first one was upon us.  The other hung back, but flung some more spines at Terjon, two of which missed and one thudded into his shield.

The closer of the two jumped at Mareth and took him down with it’s huge paws, the elf bleeding from four parallel slashes across his chest where the attack tore through his leather armour.

I struck the first one in the shoulder with my sword, the gash looking puny and almost pathetic.  This enraged the beast further and it next struck out at me.  It struck me in the left thigh, the claws raking across my scale armour, but bruising the flesh beneath.  Terjon and Warramayl also managed to land blows to the creature before the paladin fell to another powerful attack from the creature in front and the monk went down under a hail of spines from the one in the back.

Chade rushed forward to apply some first aid to Warramayl, but was knocked against the cave wall by a massively strong swipe from the Manticore.

“I should get the hell out of here!” I thought to myself.  I could see the bodies of my comrades lying around my feet out of my periphery.  Strangely, this didn’t scare me, it steeled my resolve to either defend them or die trying, if that was what I had to do.

I heard Entarsis chanting behind me and I felt some sudden, sharp pains in my stomach.  I looked down, briefly to see two of those horrid black spines lodged in my gut.  It was a stupid thing to do, in my moment of distraction, the manticore in front of me smashed me in the side and sent me reeling backwards.  

“What a way to die.”  I thought as the deep blackness of unconsciousness closed over me.


----------



## SableWyvern (Jul 9, 2002)

Post removed after Rhael corrected his story.


----------



## Rhael (Jul 12, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (005)*

*Escape.  *

I was awakened only moments later as Entarsis poured a healing potion down my throat.   I sat up and coughed a little and took stock of the situation.  Nothing much had changed.  All my companions, save Entarsis were lying, bleeding on the cave floor.

“Hurry!”  The urgency in Entarsis’ voice was palpable as he motioned toward the Manticores, “It won’t last for long.” 

It was then that I noticed the one thing that was different.  The manticores were entangled in a sticky web-like substance, unable to move.  “We have to get them out of here!”  Entarsis gestured at our companions.  

I was on my feet in a flash and I extracted a flask from my pack.  
“Quick.”  I said, handing the bottle to Entarsis.  “Give this to Chade.”  I stepped toward my fallen comrades.  “I’ll grab Terj and Warramayl.  You and Chade get Mareth and Reikon and come after me.”  The fear giving me strength, I somehow heaved the comatose monk and paladin onto my shoulders and actually managed a slight jog on the way out.

I stopped after about thirty seconds to wait for the others, giving me some time to bind Terj and Warramayl’s wounds.  

“Come on!”  Entarsis yelled as he jogged up, carrying Reikon.  I picked up my burdens and we doubletimed it out of the caves.

“Mareth doesn’t look too good!”  I puffed as we all fell to the ground outside the caves.
“I managed to stop the bleeding as we left the manticores.”  He was breathing almost as hard as I was.  “But only just in time.  We almost lost him.”

Between Chade and Terjon, they managed to get the entire group on their feet, ready for the long limp back to Taureth.

“What happened back there?”  I asked as we got to our feet.  The first time I’d thought to.
Entarsis grinned and pulled a stick with spidery carvings on it from his belt.
“A hundred gold well spent, I’d say.”  He waggled the stick around.
“I never doubted you for a second.”  I had to laugh at the irony of the situation.
“Good work, Entarsis.” Reikon put in.  It was unusual to hear him complement anyone, and I’m sure Entarsis appreciated the fact.
“Then I just had to pick the strongest one to give my only healing potion to.”  He continued, nodding in my direction.
I turned to Terjon.
“I’m just thankful that you haven’t started wearing that full plate armour that paladins seem to favour.”  I remarked with a smile.
“So am I.”  Terj felt at the spot on his ribs where the creature’s paw had struck him.
“Duergar dwarves, the underdark and manticores.”  Mareth said quietly.
“What a day, huh?”  Entarsis posed the rhetorical question.

We travelled the rest of the way with barely a word being spoken, all hoping we didn’t meet anything more dangerous than a mosquito on the way back to town.

We were feeling pretty weary by the time we got back to Taureth and, as usual, once our gear was deposited in our rooms, we took up our customary table in the corner of the Drum & Sword’s common room.

While my companions, barring Terjon and Warramayl were busy getting as intoxicated as they could in the shortest possible time, I noticed a man wearing a white tabard sitting at the bar facing toward the commonroom.  Ordinarily this wouldn’t have been much of an issue, except he appeared to be watching us intently.


----------



## Rhael (Jul 15, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (006)*

*A Chance Meeting*
Since we had been staying at the inn for some time now many of the regulars knew us, and we them, however I had never seen this man before and decided to check it out.

I slowly raised myself out of my chair and walked toward the man.  As I neared I could tell that he was a powerfully built man, probably only slightly shorter than my six feet, four inches when standing.  His face had a couple of scars on it and the fact that his hand had not once strayed to the sword at his hip in the time I had been regarding him told me he had worn it for some time.  As I walked toward him, I noticed his focus switch from the group to me.
I walked to the bar and stood next to the man.  “Hail and well met, good sir.”
“And the same to you, young warrior.”
“I couldn’t help but notice you watching us.”
“Yes, I was intrigued by the symbols of Hieroneous you and your young friend had on your armour when you walked in.”  He waved a hand in Terjon’s direction.  “One does not come across such blatant advertisements of faith very often these days.”
I was surprised.  Few people still believe in the gods, fewer still would call themselves followers of a god, and fewer still would actually recognise the symbol of Hieroneous for what it is.
“Y- Yes.”  I stammered, slightly.  “My name is Rhael Everard, Ranger and my friend over there is Terjon, Paladin of Hieroneous. “
“Good to meet you, Rhael.  My name is Tremeslear, Knight of the Chalice.  It is heartening to see that two men as young as yourselves have the faith required.  I am a follower of Pelor myself.”
I nodded, familiar with the deity from my study of the religions under mine and Terjon’s, Antoral, a Paladin of Hieroneous.
“I too, am happy to meet a man of religion.  What did you say you are?  A Knight of the Chalice?  I am sorry to say this, but I have never heard of your order.”
“Do not be sorry, Rhael.  There are not many in our order, and very few would have heard of us.  We do not keep permanent headquarters or seek to advertise our presence in this world.”
“What is it that your Order seeks to achieve?”
Tremeslear lowered his voice.  “Our primary purpose is to combat demons and drive them from this world.”  This statement hit me like a maul in the face.  I was stunned.  Since a very young age, I had been studying the history of this world and based on this learning as well as the teaching of Antoral, I had developed a distaste for demons.  This lead me to spend a great deal of time studying the other planes.  I was stunned, elated, excited and relieved all at the same time.  I had to take a moment to stop myself from gushing like a thirteen-year-old girl.
“Demons.”  I repeated quietly.  Letting the excitement show on my face, but careful not to talk too loudly – the general populace do not like hearing the ‘D’ word.  “Tremeslear, I have devoted a great deal of my life to learning about demons and how to combat them!  Knowing there is a group of people devoted to the same cause warms my heart no end.”
“Rhael, it is very possible that you would fit in well with our order,”  An image flashed across my mind of my kneeling before a white-clad knight, “but I fear that you are not ready yet.”  My face fell, just a little.  “The Knighthood requires a level of ability in combat I feel you have probably not reached.  Tell me, young Ranger, do you  have the ability to channel the divine power of Hieroneous?”
“No.”
“A demonstration of a least a rudimentary ability in this regard is another pre-requisite of any individual petitioning for entry to our order.  You will have to train as a cleric, perhaps your paladin friend will be able to instruct you in this regard.”
“Oh.”
“Furthermore, you must pass tests relating to knowledge of religion and the planes, you must have defeated a demon in combat, you must own a set of enchanted full plate armour and we have a strict moral code, similar to that of a paladin that includes a vow of chastity.”
I pondered this for a moment.  I had no idea where I would find a demon or a set of magical plate armour.  The vow of chastity wasn’t an issue, because I didn’t get much tail anyway, and I was confident I could pass their tests of knowledge.  
I steeled myself.
“Tremeslear,” I began.  “I will devote as long as it takes to meet these requirements and then I will petition for entry to the Knights of the Chalice.”
“That is heartening to hear, Rhael, and I look forward to the day you begin your training.”
I had more questions.  So many more.
“I know there are demons in the world, and they are fairly ubiquitous, but where does the Order fight most of it’s battles?”
“There are two kingdoms, far to the west of hear which you may have heard of: Kadrendorst and Menria?”  I shook my head, indicating I had not heard of them.  Tremeslear continued.  “They are currently fighting over an area of land called the Norwald Egress.  Now, both of these kingdoms are self-serving in their purpose, and the Order holds no political alliance with either, but Kadrendorst regularly uses demons as troops in their battles.”  My eyes widened at this news.  “Yes.  I imagine this news would alarm most people.  Anyway, as a result of this, the Order finds itself nominally allied with Menria, but only by virtue of the fact that we oppose the demons and Kadrendorst’s use of them.”
“If the battle is in the west, what are you doing in Taureth?”
“I have been on campaign for a number of years.  I am travelling to the east to see my family.”

We chatted for sometime regarding the political machinations of the area, the philosophical reasons behind the battles in the west as well as other smaller matters before Tremeslear, citing tiredness, announced he was heading to bed.

“I am planning to be back in Taureth in about a year, but if you wish to attempt to get a message to me, there is a temple to the road god near the outskirts of town.  The priests there may know how to contact me.  Goodnight, Rhael.  And good luck.”
“And to you, sir knight.”
I shook Tremeslear’s hand before he headed up the stairs to where the rooms were.

I sat at the bar, in silence for some time, pondering the conversation.  I now had a purpose in my life.  I would become a Knight of the Chalice and devote my life to combating demons.

I stepped off the barstool and headed back to my companions.  I resumed my seat next to Terjon and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Terjon.”
“Yesth.”  It would appear that Terjon had had a couple more ales than he usually did, his condition was nothing compared to some of the others.  Entarsis appeared to be asleep and Chade was having difficulty keeping his neck straight.
“I want you to teach me how to be a cleric.”
“Sure.  No problems.”


----------



## Rhael (Jul 19, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (007)*

*Another peaceful walk in the countryside *
Terjon began training me in the ways of the cleric the next day.  It would be a long and arduous process, and a severe departure from my training as a ranger, but I would do whatever was necessary to succeed.

After exploring what we believed to be the limits of the cave system, at least as far as our abilities would take us anyway, we decided that it was time to venture beyond the large clearing and head further into the Hoardeep.  It was a long-shot, exploring those caves for the Tomb of Adrestus, since it was most likely set up in a similar fashion to Enlor’s crypt and was therefore unlikely to be in a cave.  Our best guess was that the crypt was somewhere, deeper into the forest.

After a day of rest (and training for me), we set off toward the large clearing.  We passed the healing pond and the now relatively familiar journey seemed a little shorter than usual.  The large clearing was much as we last saw it and we were confronted with the decision to go either west or southwest.  Sticking with our previous habit of going left, we took the westerly path.

Reikon and I resumed our scouting procedure.  We had travelled for approximately half an hour, the path following a roughly westerly course, when I heard Reikon’s bird call.  I responded with my own and headed back to the group.

“Orcs.” Reikon spat the word.  “Five of them.  A hundred yards down the path and coming this way.”
“Quickly!”  I don’t know why I whispered.  “Into the forest, we can size them up and ambush them if necessary.”  I looked at Reikon.  “Confirmed birdcall to OK the ambush.”
He nodded once, headed for a tree with plenty of foliage and scooted up it with the dexterity of a cat.
We all got off the path and hid as best we could in the trees around the road.  I could see Entarsis mentally preparing for a spell and the rest of us had our weapons drawn ready for the attack.

The orcs seemed fairly relaxed as they wandered along the path.  I found myself wondering what they were doing here.  From my hiding place I could see one of them hacking lazily at the trees with his axe as he passed them.  Defilers!  This would not go unpunished.  There were only five of them, and they were none too alert.  I gave the birdcall and Reikon returned his own.

He waited until the orcs were in our midst before silently lodging an arrow in the back of the leader’s head.  The orcs had no idea they were under attack until their leader pitched forward into the dirt.  Before he was dead we leapt from our hiding places and were upon the orcs before they could react.

“Defilers of the forest.  You have seen your last day!”  I yelled as I charged one of the pig-faced atrocities.

The orcs put up a bit of a fight, but were outmatched, outnumbered and on the defensive from the beginning.  We came out of the battle unscathed.

“Quick!  Get them off the path.”  Mareth had grabbed one of the orcs by his leather armour and was dragging it into the scrub to the left of the path.
We complied with his instruction and within a matter of minutes there was very little evidence of a battle taking place here – at least to someone without the proper training.  Reikon went through the orc’s pockets and came up with a couple of handfuls of gold and silver coins.

“Even their money smells.”  Chade commented as Reikon tipped the booty into one of the cleric’s pouches.
“If you spent most of your time inside an orc’s pants you’d probably smell a bit, yourself.”  Entarsis noted, with a grin.
“Come on.  Let’s keep going.”  I urged the others and headed back to the path.

We resumed our usual pattern of scouting and it was an hour later when I heard a large amount of noise in the forest up ahead.  It was still a reasonable distance away, but it sounded like an entire battalion moving through the forest.  I heard the unmistakable noise of a heavily laden cart being pulled on squeaky wheels.

After the usual birdcall signals Reikon headed back to the group.  I wanted to see what the nine hells was going on, so I stepped onto the path probably fifty feet in front of the group and waved at them, pointed in the direction of the noise.  I then made a signal indicating I was going to have a look and then pointed into the forest, indicating they should get off the path.

Reikon obviously understood and lead the rest of the group into the forest.  I turned and ran into the forest with the intention of flanking whatever it was that was making all that noise.  About two hundred and fifty yards further on, I came across a group of two dozen orcs escorting two carts full of timber.  I stopped for a moment to confirm their numbers and sprinted back to the last place I saw the group.  When I got to the position, I heard someone call my name in a loud whisper, and I headed for the noise.  

I found the group about twenty feet from the edge of the path and told them what I saw.  Chade was keen to take them on.
“Don’t be a fool.  Twenty is too many.  That last lot must have been a scouting party.”
“I say we get away from the path and let them pass.”  Mareth obviously agreed with my thought process.
Chade grumbled a bit, but we moved further into the forest and hid in some low scrub where we could see the orcs pass.

“They probably won’t realise their scouts are dead until they reach their destination.”  Reikon pointed out.  “If we were going to take them by surprise, now is the time.”
“It’s too risky.”  I said.  “We caught five orcs by surprise and took them down pretty quickly.  Twenty is a much different proposition.”

We lay in silence, waiting for the orcs to pass by.  It took some time, because of the carts they moved very slowly.  I noted with anger that many of their number were carelessly stepping on the plants and hacking at the trees with their blades as they walked by.  They would pay, but not right now.

We waited for a few minutes, while the orcs made their way down the path toward Taureth, although I could only guess their actual destination.

When the creak of the wheels was a distant sound down the path we emerged from the scrub where we were hiding and headed back to the path.
“Be on the lookout.”  We all looked at Terjon.  “There might me more of them.”  Terjon is a dear friend from childhood, but occasionally I do forget that he is a bit of a dullard.  His heart is in the right place, and he is quite likeable, but he does occasionally remind us that he was about as smart as Entarsis’ rat familiar.
“Thanks for that, Terjon.”  Reikon remarked, a little more than a little sardonically.  “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“That’s okay.  Just trying to help.”  The paladin obviously didn’t pick up on Reikon’s sarcastic intentions.  The elf gave him a withering stare, which just Terjon smiled at, nodded at me and jogged up the path to his scouting position.
I gave Mareth and Entarsis, who were both grinning knowingly, a wry smile and ran after Reikon.  
“You’re just lucky he’s too stupid to realise you’re being nasty.”  I pointed out when I caught up to my fellow scout.
“We all make fun of him on occasion.”  The elf replied.  “He seems happy enough.”  Then he remarked, seemingly more to himself than me, “Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.”  

I signalled back down the path for the group to start moving, Reikon and I separated off to different sides of the path and we were on our way again.

*Sometimes you’re lucky.  And others, well…*

It was probably another half hour later when I heard Reikon’s bird call from the right hand side of the path.

“What’s up?”  I asked when we rejoined the group.
“More orcs.  Probably a rearguard for the group we saw earlier.”
“Told you there’d be more.”  Terjon pointed out.  Reikon gave him a scathing glance and returned to the task at hand.
“There’s about ten of them and they’ve congregated in a small clearing just around a sharp corner in the path.  I don’t know what they’re waiting for.”  His voice trailed off as he considered his own proposition.
“We can take ten.”  Chade unhooked his mace from his belt to emphasise his point.
“Easily.”  Warramayl rarely said anything, but when he had a chance to test himself in combat, he was _relatively_ excitable.
“Maybe.”  Mareth replied.  “We can’t just assume that all orcs we meet will be grunts like those ones we took out earlier.”
“Uh huh.”  I nodded in agreement.  “Did you notice anything in particular about any individuals, Reik?”
“One of them had blue face-paint, but it was difficult to tell too much, there are fairly dense bushes surrounding their position.”
“We can’t go charging in there.”  Mareth pointed out, looking directly at Chade.  The cleric tried to look hurt.  “We should wait and try to ambush them.  If they are, in fact, the rearguard for the other group, they’ll have to start moving soon.”
“We can stay a bit closer to the road here.”  I said, pointing at the thicker scrub surrounding the path.
“Let’s hurry.  We don’t know how long we’ve got.”
“Right.  Spread out on both sides of the path, but not too far apart.”  As I finished the order, we separated.  The scrub provided excellent cover.  I knew that Terjon was directly across the path from me and Entarsis was about twenty feet behind me, but the location of the others was a bit of a mystery.

Warramayl’s over-eagerness cost us dearly in this battle.  I heard the familiar thunk of one of his slingstones hitting flesh and bone, while the body of the orcs was still too far from Terjon and my hiding spots.  Even the paladin seemed to realise that this was not good, as I heard a muffled curse from across the path.

The orcs fanned out, some disappearing into the forest on either side of the path.  We were forced to act.
“Charge!”  I yelled, hoping to create a little confusion among the orcs with us coming from different directions.  It didn’t work.  We all seemed to converge on the one spot, directly in front of the orc group.

I found myself front and centre, Terjon to my right and Mareth on the other side of him.  Chade was to my left and Reikon on the other side of him.  Warramayl was behind us and Entarsis a little further back.  We could only see seven of the original ten on the path in front of us.
“Watch out for flankers.”  Mareth shouted.

And the battle was joined.

The orcs that attacked us from the front appeared to be the of the same ill-trained ilk as the ones we fought earlier, but behind them was the blue-faced orc, wearing bloodstained leather armour and carrying a massive double-bladed great-axe.  Next to him was a slightly taller orc carrying a staff with some feathers hanging off the top.  Mage or shaman, I concluded.
My suspicions were confirmed as the orc began chanting.
“Mage!”  Chade shouted as the orc completed it’s casting and a mass of sticky, spider-silk strands exploded behind us.  Warramayl was caught in the middle and had no chance of escape.
“Help!”  That was Entarsis’ voice – obviously the sorcerer was also caught in the strands.
As the sorcerer yelled, I clove the head from the orc in front of me.  Before it could fall to the ground, the blue-faced orc, seemingly in a frenzy charged over it’s fall_ing_ comrade and attacked me.

This was the toughest opponent I had faced yet, with the exception of the manticores.  The orc was massively strong, and with comrades to my sides and web to my back, I had very little room to move and avoid the deadly swings of it’s axe.  I was forced onto the defensive, and was merely trying to survive long enough to get an effective attack.

Meanwhile, Terjon and Mareth had managed to despatch their opponents, and had pushed forward to attack the mage.  One of the orcs that had disappeared into the forest when Warramayl hit one with his sling rejoined the battle, attacking Reikon, who was having trouble with his original attacker.  Chade, too, was having difficulties and with Entarsis and Warramayl trapped there was no extra assistance available.

I finally managed to get a few swings at the blue-faced orc, between his attacks.  They were largely ineffectual, but at least I was getting onto the front foot.

I could hear something happening behind me, but didn’t dare look.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Reikon looking for a way out of his current situation, sandwiched between the web, two orcs and Chade, but to no avail.

Mareth and Terjon had no real problems taking out the mage.  Terjon turned to help me with my opponent and Mareth had a chance to look around.

“Entarsis!”  He shouted, he sounded distressed.  With that, he ran toward the far edge of the web.

Chade finally took down his attacker and was able to help Reikon with his two.

With some well-coordinated flanking manoeuvres, Terjon and I managed to kill the blue-faced orc, but not before I had a decent-sized gash in my left shoulder and Terj a cut in his leg.  As it went down, finally had a chance to look around properly.  Mareth was fighting off two orcs standing near a limp-looking Entarsis.  Warramayl had almost fought his way out of the web.
“Terj!”  I shouted to get the Paladin’s attention.  “Help Reik and Chade!” I pointed.  I then ran to assist Mareth.

Now that we outnumbered our adversaries, despatching the remaining orcs did not prove difficult, however the cost of the battle was high.

He was still suspended in the web, but as far as we could tell, Entarsis was not moving and didn’t look to be in good shape.  There was a large pool of blood at his feet and as the web started to dissipate Chade lunged forward to catch the sorcerer’s body.  We waited with baited breath while he checked for signs of life.  He had been slumped over before, and the deep cut across his abdomen had not been visible.

Chade shook his head.
“He’s dead, guys.”  He sounded numb.  I think we all were.  I didn’t know what to do, so I cried.  Chade looked disappointed and frustrated, both at his friend’s death as well as his inability to do anything about it.  The others seemed to be dealing with his death in their own way, only Reikon seeming unaffected.

I took some bandages from my pack and wrapped them around Entarsis’ stomach to stop any further blood coming from the wound, as well as hold in any errant entrails.  Reikon set about looting the corpses, once again coming up with a few handfuls of coin.  The great-axe used by the blue-faced orc appeared to be of pretty high quality, so we decided to take it with us.

Apart from Entarsis, Mareth was limping and bleeding heavily from several cuts on his arms and torso, his rapier black with blood.  Terjon was sporting that cut in his leg, and some heavy bruising under his armour which made it hurt to breath.

Chade and Terjon exhausted their healing powers, and in minutes we were ready to travel again.

“We’ve got to take him back to Esgaro.”  I said.
“I agree.”  Terjon said.

We fashioned a stretcher from one of my sacks and some relatively straight branches and took turns carrying our friend’s body back to Taureth.  The journey seemed longer than usual.

*Lysergik Funeral Procession **

We arrived back in Taureth, exhausted and overwrought with sadness.  It was late, and we reasoned that we should get some rest before we head back home.

The next morning, Chade cast a spell on the sorcerer’s body to slow the decomposition – handy considering it was going to take a week to get back to Esgaro.  We sold his adventuring gear and put the money, along with another hundred gold aside to give to his family when we got to Esgaro.

The journey home was uneventful, except that Terjon and I had some extra time to devote to my clerical studies and it was during the trip that I cast my first orison, as Terjon told me they were called.  It was at this point that I realised Chade’s lit coin trick wasn’t all that hard.  I could feel the divine power of Hieroneous and I praised the day.  I felt a level of happiness, despite the death of my friend.

When we arrived in Esgaro and presented the rather well preserved body of their son to Entarsis’ parents, they were understandably upset.  Terjon, Mareth and I stayed with them for an hour or so telling them how he died (with perhaps a small amount of embellishment relating to his heroism, and maybe a little less information about being stuck in a web and killed by orcs).  We regaled them with the tale of him saving our collective butts from the manticores and made up a few more heroic deeds before we left.  Arrangements were made for the funeral to be the day after tomorrow.

We met up with the others at the tavern and proceeded to get quite drunk.  The tales of Entarsis’ heroism becoming taller and taller as the night went on.

We used the next day to catch up with family and other friends before attending Entarsis’ funeral the day after.  After his body was lowered into the ground, Reikon tossed an object in on top of the sorcerer.  Just before a clod of dirt covered the object, I noticed that it was the now useless wand of web he had used to save us from the manticores.


* Lysergik Funeral Procession.  Grammatically doesn't make much sense, but it's a reference to a band I'm quite fond of called _Down_.  Lysergik Funeral Procession is a song from their second album, _"Down II: A Bustle In Your Hedgerow"_.  Originally the heading for this section was simply 'Funeral Procession', but I decided to change it.


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## Rhael (Jul 23, 2002)

*The Prophecy of the Inner Key*

*The Document *
This is the document we found all the way back in Player's Perspective 001.  I only just managed to find it, and because we're nearing a point where it will be relevant, I figured I should post it. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

*The Prophecy of the Inner Key*

In her last days, Alinulindal gathered to her those two servants of her King most trusted and loyal. She bound them to her in the Arbour of Starlight; that place that longest stood bright against the coming end. Nevermore did she then leave the hallowed grove, and holds still the essence of Ninrandir.

To the blood of Enlor and Adrestus was bequeathed the honour of holding the secret of the inner key of fabled Mareciot.

To Enlor the knowledge of Adrestus;
In their lich-halls lying the key’s centre.

Enlor upon Ar Helliot; Adrestus nigh the mouths of Temmersel – both resting in verdant realms that most resembled their lady’s eternal home.

~When desert storms begin to rage,
A portal opens wide.
Beware the calm that heralds then
The coming of the tide.~

Be pure of heart, those who seek the keys, for the blood of Enlor and Adrestus sleeps never.

Be warned too, those whose honour is unquestioned – for the fair Lady Alinulindal was always assured that her Lord did not see his own doom; instead one that would defy those who might in noble spirit seek to raise his standard once more.

In Heironeous’ name I pray for a new Mareciot, and may he strengthen us all against the Scourge. 

 e

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*Note:  The 'e' at the end of the document was in a circle, we have learned that the 'e' stands for Enlor.*


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## Rhael (Jul 24, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (008)*

*New friend?*
The journey back to Taureth was completely uneventful.  Not even a small band of goblins broke the monotony.

Unfortunately, our first night back in the Drum & Sword was anything but uneventful.  Chade and Terjon were getting fresh mugs of ale, the rest of us were just sitting there, minding our own business when there was a loud ‘whoop’ and suddenly there was a brightly dressed halfling standing on our table (among tipped ale glasses), brandishing a shortsword.
“Greetings, adventurers!”  The little fella said with a bow.  “I am Ulric.  Bard and adventurer, at your service.”
Reikon was on his feet with sword drawn before most of us even realised the halfling was on the table.  Warramayl and Mareth also leapt off their chairs and into fighting stances.  I deliberately remained seated, leaning back slightly, my hand on the hilt of my longsword.
“That’s nice, my _little_ friend.”  He said through gritted teeth.  “But in future I advise against leaping onto people’s tables swinging weapons around.”
“ ‘Tis of no consequence!”  Ulric shouted with sudden dramatic flair, looking around for his applause.  None came.  He did not, however, take the hint and remove himself from our table.
I immediately took a disliking to the loud intruder.
“Ulric.”  I addressed him directly, and by name to get his attention.  “Why are you on our table?” 
At this point, Chade and Terj returned to our table, mugs in hand.  Both stood, looking at the halfling, noticing the tipped over mugs and unwilling to set the fresh ones down.
“I wish to make a grand entrance to make a grand impression on the grand adventurers!”
“I see –“
“I have heard of your exploits, and I seek adventure.  I am a teller of stories.  A player of tunes.  A singer of songs.  A slayer of beasts!”  The last statement was punctuated with a thrust from his shortsword at an imaginary creature.  And what better place to continue my grand adventures than with grand adventurers?”

Regrettably, I do not feel I can do justice to the ensuing five minutes with narrative, suffice to say that Ulric didn’t get off our table until Reikon threatened to gut him where he stood.  I’m not sure that any of us particularly liked him (Terjon, I think, was a but chuffed at the ‘grand adventurers’ tag) but, being a man down, we accepted him into our group – with no small measure of trepidation.  He was informed in no uncertain terms that he would have to make himself useful and stay out of trouble.  He attempted to tell us a story, but it was so bad that the bartender told him to shut up lest he drive his customers away or to sleep.

Anyway, with Ulric in tow, or rather with Ulric bounding along in the front of the main group occasionally bursting into song or story (never have I been more thankful for being a Ranger and having to scout ahead of the party).  The racket was quickly stifled by whomever got to him first, of course, but I’m sure that every denizen of this forest heard him.

As we neared the large clearing I signalled to Reikon and met him and the group back on the trail.
“Ulric!” I snarled at him.  He came trotting over from where he was smelling some fairly poisonous fungus (I regretted calling him over).
“Yessir, Rhael, sir!”  He mock-saluted me.
I wanted to punch him.
“We’re heading into an area where we’ve seen orc activity –“
“Orcs huh?”  He interrupted.  “I’ve killed hundreds of orcs!”  He started thrusting and parrying at imaginary (and very short) orcs as if in combat.
“Of course you have.”  I said, as condescendingly as I could muster.
“The reason I mention this is that I want you to shut-up.  The last thing we need is to alert any more inhabitants to our presence than is absolutely necessary.”
He saluted again.  
“Yes sir!”

When we reached the clearing I was more thankful that I had told Ulric to be quiet (and even more thankful he had complied).  In the clearing was a reasonably large wooden structure, surrounded by a low wall, also built of wood.  The wall was approximately four feet in height, and had one gate that we could see.  At either end of the gate were two guard towers, probably twelve feet tall, and three more towers punctuated the wall at regular intervals.  The newly constructed compound was roughly circular in shape and approximately a hundred yards in diameter.  From our vantage point, we could tell that the wall encompassed the three cave entrances we had found weeks earlier.  I would hesitate to call it an actual fortress, due to the wooden construction and low wall, but that is how it came to be known – more for convenience than anything else.

“That would explain the orcs and the wood, I guess.”  Mareth commented.
“Mmmm.”  I replied.  “I say we skirt around it.”
“I say we take them out.”  I half-expected Chade to say something like that.
“We’re not attacking a walled compound with who-knows-howmany orcs in it.  Don’t be a fool.  Even Terjon wouldn’t suggest that.”
Terjon smiled, thinking that was a complement.
“I agree with Rhael.”  Mareth said.
“Me too.”  Terjon piped up.
“Fine.”  Chade was in a semi-mock huff.  
“We’ll skirt around the south border of the clearing, sticking to the forest, and continue down that westbound path we followed the other day.  Stay alert.”

With that, I started off on my intended route, the others following, trying to be as stealthy as possible.

We made it around the clearing without incident, keeping a close eye on the ‘fortress’.  Interestingly, we saw no activity within the grounds at all – but we were a fair distance away.

We regrouped on the west-bound path leading away from the clearing and restarted our journey.  We passed the site of Entarsis’ last battle, the elements and local creatures long-since cleaning up the dead bodies and scraps of flesh.

Probably another hour later we found another clearing.  This one much larger than the one with the caves.  It appeared to be uninhabited, but we could tell that there had previously been a walled village in this clearing – there were some run-down buildings still remaining and some of the posts used to hold up the fence surrounding the village.

There were three paths leading off this clearing, including the one we had just traversed.  We had approached from the east, there was a path leading north and one leading further west.

We went left.

The path did not go very far, ending at what we could only guess was the cesspit.  The stench drove us away fairly quickly.  Amazing that pretty much anything to do with orcs smells worse than the equivalent associated with even the dirtiest humans – at least in my limited experience.

Retreating from the cesspit, we returned to the large clearing and headed west.

Another half hour of walking later we were hailed from the forest.

*More interruptions*

“Halt, travellers!”  The voice was strong and in a slightly archaic form of common –still recognisable, but with a strange accent.  “State your purpose and stay your hands.”
Noone else decided to talk within what I thought was an acceptable amount of time, so keeping my hands well away from the hilt of my sword I spoke.
“We are adventurers, searching for a tomb that we have been told lies in these woods.”  Not knowing the nature or power of of our addressor, I decided that honesty was the best policy.
Without another word being spoken, a dozen creatures with the body of a horse and the torso of a man where it’s head should be emerged from the trees.  They had longbows with arrows nocked or longspears, all ready for trouble.
“Centaurs!” I breathed, relieved.
“You will come with us.”  The leader stated.  They did not seem overly hostile, but still kept a close eye on us.  I turned to the others briefly and motioned for them to keep calm.

We marched along the path, even Ulric was remaining quiet.  A short time later, we emerged into another clearing that housed a largish tribe of the creatures – probably two-score males plus half that number of females and children.

“Wait here.”  The lead centaur addressed us and left the group in the company of his charges.  The centaurs watched us closely, I made sure I made no threatening moves and hoped my companions would do the same.  They obviously were not as comfortable as I.  Reikon looked decidedly nervous and ready for a fight, I could tell that a couple of our guards were keeping a close eye on him.  Ulric was gazing at the centaurs in awe, Terj, Mareth and Chade were trying to look as dignified as possible and Warramayl just looked wary. 

A few minutes later, the lead centaur from the hunting party returned with another, larger centaur.

Since I was standing at the head of the group, the larger centaur strode up and addressed me.

“I am Longstride, chieftain of this tribe.  Who are you?”  The centaur was gruff and slightly standoffish, just as I had known centaurs to be.
“I am Rhael Everard, Ranger and Cleric of Hieroneous.”  I decided to be as formal as possible.  “I greet you Longstride as a fellow defender of the forest, on behalf of myself and my friends.”
“My scout tells me that you seek a crypt of some sort.”
“Your scout speaks truly, Longstride.  We are searching for the crypt of an ancient warrior by the name of Adrestus.  Our best guess indicates that the tomb would most likely have a large stone near the entrance with the name Adrestus carved upon its surface.”
“Indeed?”  Longstride replied.  “I do know of this crypt of which you speak.”  My heart lifted at the thought of completing part of our quest.  “For what purpose do you seek this tomb?  It has been abandoned for some time – do you perhaps wish to search this tomb for valuables?  I can assure you that many others have come before you with this intent.”
“No, Longstride.  That is not my intention.”  The centaur looked somewhere between surprised and dubious.  “We come in search of an ancient artefact known as the Sphere of Haedros, that is said to lay in Adrestus’ tomb.”

“I know not of this item of which you speak.  Pray continue.”

I proceeded to tell Longstride pretty much everything, through which he listened intently.

When I finished our tale, with the odd interjection from my companions, Longstride stood in silence for a few moments collecting his thoughts before he spoke.

“It appears that you and your friends have a difficult task ahead, young ranger.  I can show you the path to what I believe is the tomb you seek.”
“I thank you, Longstride.  We appreciate your assistance.”
“Can you tell us anything else about this area?”  Mareth asked.  “We came through what we think was an abandoned and dismantled Orc village a little way back down the path.”
Longstride made a face at the mention of ‘orcs’.
“The orcs were living in that clearing for some time and we had numerous clashes with their hunters before they learned which areas were ours from long before they arrived and they stayed clear of us. They have moved on.  We find their presence in this forest abhorrent, but it is beyond our sphere of influence.”  He paused.  “As for the area, there is an old tower further to the southwest –“
“Yeah, we heard about that back in Taureth.”  Chade interrupted – I wish he hadn’t.  “Something about a crazed wizard’s test for his daughter’s suitors, or something.”
“Yes.”  Longstride replied, shortly.  “We too have heard those stories.  We cannot vouch for their validity, however.  As I was saying, the mountain yonder,” he pointed to the north “houses a green dragon and its horde.”
“A dragon, huh?”  Chade didn’t take the hint.  “We heard about that too.  Weren’t sure if we could believe it or not.”
Longstride appeared mildly annoyed at being interrupted, especially twice, but continued.
“Aside from that, the ‘Hoardeep’ as you know it, is populated with many and varied denizens – most of which are dangerous.”
I waited until I was sure he had finished.
“Do you and your people have many problems with the dragon, Longstride?”
“Occasionally one of our people is taken by the dragon, but we have learned to stay out of it’s way.  However, it is the natural way of things.”
“Of course.”  I paused, trying to think how to get moving.  Longstride helped me out.
“But enough talk, I will now show you the way to the tomb.”
“Thank-you, Longstride.”

The centaur chieftain took us to the north-western corner of the village and showed us a path.

“Down that path, about a half-hour’s walk is a track that leads to the crypt.  The path continues, curling around to the southwest, where you will find the tower of which I spoke earlier.  North of the crypt is the lower reaches of the mountain that is inhabited by the dragon.”

“Thank-you again, Longstride.”  I said with a slight bow.  “We shall see you again when we pass back this way.”
He nodded and we went on our way.

As he promised, a half-hour later the path separated into a main path and a narrow track leading off into the forest.  A short walk down that path lead us to what we sought.  A rock, embedded in the ground with the word ‘Adrestus’ carved upon it’s surface.


----------



## Rhael (Aug 20, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (009)*

*Group Update*
*Rhael* (Human Ranger/Cleric), *Reikon* (Elf Rogue/Illusionist), *Terjon* (Human Paladin), *Warramayl* (Human Monk), *Mareth* (Elf Fighter), *Ulric*(Halfling Bard), *Chade* (Human Cleric of St Cuthbert)

*The Tomb of Adrestus*

“I can’t believe we actually found it.”  Mareth exclaimed.

We continued past the stone and found a ruined temple-like structure, very similar to the building we found in the forest near Esgaro and in a similar state of disrepair.

Reikon checked the door for traps, and finding none gave the heavy-looking stone door a push.
“It didn’t move.”  He said, needlessly.  “Give me a hand.”
Terjon, Warramayl and I walked over to where Reikon was standing by the door.
“One.  Two.”  Terjon counted.  “Threeeeee!”  The last number was stretched out as we pushed with all our might –the door was very heavy, but swung easily once we got it moving.

What greeted us was completely different from Enlor’s tomb.  Carved stone steps leading downwards to the east and into blackness.  The craftsmanship was of an ageless quality and only the dust revealed by the sunlight streaming into the passage gave a hint as to the length of time this tomb had lain undisturbed.  

Warramayl and Mareth lit torches as Terjon and I lead the way into the tomb.

As I passed the threshold I whispered a prayer to Hieroneous, asking forgiveness for violating the tomb of one of his champions.  A glance to my left revealed Terjon was also mouthing words of prayer.

At the bottom of a very long flight of stairs was a short passage of no more than ten feet, which lead to another stone doorway.  This one opening much easier than the front door, after Reikon conducted his obligatory trap-check.

The room we entered was very large – our torchlight did not reveal any walls beyond the one behind us.

“Be very careful.”  Reikon whispered.  “It is very easy to trap these kind of floors.”

Bearing the elf’s warning in mind, we carefully made our way around the room.  It was massive.  It’s ceiling was so high, that I would not have been surprised if it made up the aboveground section of the temple we saw on the surface.  Along the walls to our left and right were huge columns, and in the middle of the northern (left) wall was an altar.  The altar itself bore carvings indicating a tribute to Hieroneous, and near it’s base were the skeletons of what we could only guess were two adventurers who found their way to the tomb.  There were double doors in the centre of the south wall and the east wall.

Reikon immediately started searching through their leftover equipment. 
“Wow!”  he exclaimed – in a fairly uncharacteristic way.

We all took a few steps closer to the skeletal remains.  Reikon had dusted off the breastplate that one of the skeletons was still encased in.  “Mithril.”  He breathed.

“Should we take it?”  Terjon said to no-one in particular.
“Of course!”  Chade said.  “Finder’s keepers.”
“It’s not like this is Adrestus or anything, Terjon!”  Reikon sneered a little.  “These are just two other dumb adventurers who came to loot the tomb, and failed.”  Terjon’s only reply was a shrug that caused the chainmail under his half-plate to jingle slightly.
“We are not here to _loot_ this place, as you put it, Reikon!”  I put in, hurt at the insinuation.  “We are here to retrieve an ancient artefact that will assist us to fight the evil that remains in this world.  We are here for one thing and one thing alone:  the Spere of Haedros.”
“Whatever.”  Reikon said, dismissively.  He turned back to the bodies, leaving me fuming behind him.  “It looks like the old owner was a skinny bastard, possibly an elf.  The armour will probably only fit me or Mareth, and it’s not much use to me.”  He picked up the armour, noisily shook the bones from it and handed it to Mareth.

Mareth took a few minutes to clean out the armour, take off his chain shirt and don his new breastplate, with Terjon helping him.
“It fits perfectly.”  He said.  “And it feels so light.”  He made a few experimental lunges and twists with his rapier to test out the weight.
“Anything else?”  Chade asked Reikon.
“Just a couple of flasks,”  He gave one an experimental shake, “and they appear to still have fluid in them and a few coins.”
“Come on.”  I said.  “Let’s keep moving.”

Reikon handed the potions to Chade, who shoved them in his pack.

Continued around the room made our way towards the door in the south wall, carefully watching the floor.

Suddenly, Reikon shouted “Look out!”.  But it was too late.

The floor beneath Terj and my feet crumbled, and we were falling.  I scrambled to catch hold of something to break my fall.  Luckily there were some handholds on the way down so I was able to slow my fall somewhat.  Seconds later, I landed, flat on my back.  The force of the fall forcing the wind from my lungs.

I distantly heard my name being called.  Terjon’s too.

Terjon!

I sat up.  A little too quickly, in hindsight.  The sudden change of position sending a shooting pain up my left side.  I gingerly felt my ribs, at least two were broken, possibly more.  There was also a sharp pain in my left leg which I couldn’t identify.

“Terj.”  I said.  I received no reply.
“Terj!”  A little more urgency this time.  Still nothing.  I was now officially worried.

I could tell we had fallen quite a distance from the torchlight I could see flickering at the top of the pit.  

“Hang on!”  I think it was Chade’s voice.  “I’ll send down some light.”  A few seconds later I heard the distinctive _fwinng_ of a coin being tossed, spinning into the pit.  It was eerie watching the ball of light descend upon us, the light flickering and casting strange shadows as the copper piece hit the floor next to me and bounced.

Once the light settled and I was able to focus, I saw why Terj hadn’t answered me.  His mangled body was crushed against the stone floor and impaled on a number of spikes that were randomly placed throughout the floor.  I then realised how lucky I had been – I had missed several spikes by inches, and one had torn a hole in my left calf – explaining the pain.

“No!”  I yelled – surely drawing some interest from my companions fifty feet above.  “Quick!  Get a rope down here!  Terj is hurt!”  I was still hopeful that he was alive.  I scrambled across the floor to where my friend lay face down in a pool of blood.  His torso was pierced in two places, he had several broken limbs and he didn’t appear to be breathing.

I watched as a rope uncoiled on its way down to me.  Careful not to do too much more damage to the paladin as I lifted him from the spikes I looped the rope around his underarms and secured it with what I believed was a proper knot.

“Get him up!”  I yelled and watched as the rope went taut and my friend slowly rose into the air, his longsword slipping from his hands as he left the ground.  I picked up the sword and stuck it in my belt.  I also picked up the light-enchanted coin that Chade had thrown.

It took a few minutes for my companions to lift Terjon out of the hole and send the rope back down for me.  I tied it around my waist and called for them to start lifting as I stuck the light-coin between my teeth and began to climb the rope.

As soon as I pulled myself over the edge of the pit, I crawled over to where Terjon lay.  I could see his pale skin through gaps in the blood that stained his features and his sightless eyes staring up at me.  I closed his eyelids, collapsed next to him and cried for my best friend.

I was vaguely aware of Chade tending to my ribs and leg injury.  Physically I felt much better.  I cannot describe the emptiness I felt at the death of Terjon.  We had been friends since we were very young.  We had trained together under Antoral, a paladin of Hieroneous, gone camping together, played together and fought together.  Memories of our younger years flashed through my mind – the day Terj took his vows as a paladin of Hieroneous, time spent in the woods continually having to watch where Terj stepped and what he ate and the time he spent staring out the window while I was studying.

The others stood around, mostly not knowing what to do.  Ulric was silent, Reikon was scowling, Warramayl was trying his best to look unaffected, Mareth and Chade looked upset.

“Let’s get out of here.”  I finally said as I picked up Terjon and began carrying him from the tomb.  I suppose the others didn’t have any other ideas, so they just followed respectfully behind.

“What are we going to do, Rhael?”  Mareth asked quietly.
“We’re taking Terjon’s body back to Esgaro.”  Was my only reply.

I ascended the stairs into forest, waited briefly for my eyes to adjust to the natural light and set off toward the centaur encampment.


----------



## Rhael (Sep 5, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (010)*

As we walked into the Centaurs’ clearing, Longstride trotted over to us, his pace slowing as he noticed the body in my arms and possibly the tear lines in the dust on my face.
“We’re heading back to Taureth, Longstride.”  I said as he approached. 
“What happened?”  He appeared genuinely concerned.
“Terjon fell into a pit-trap.”  I put Terjon on the ground and started using a kerchief soaked in water to clean some of the blood from his face.
Longstride stood in silence for a number of moments before he spoke.
“I may be able to assist you in this regard, Rhael.”
I looked at him, quizzically. 
“Do not toy with me, Longstride.  I have just seen my best friend die and carried his limp, cold body for half an hour.  I am in no mood for jokes or the like.”  I was annoyed at the insinuation.
Longstride did not take offence, understanding the situation.
“Do you trust me, Rhael?”
“I trust you implicitly as a defender of the forest, but – “
“If you will stay with us overnight, I will ask the centaur god Skereth to grant your friend another chance at life.  Of course, the act will not be without obligation on your part.”
I looked at the centaur chieftain for some time before replying.
“Very well, Longstride.  We will stay overnight.”
Longstride nodded solemnly and motioned for two of his men to approach and take Terjon’s body to a ceremonial hut near the centre of the village.
“As I said, this will not be without obligation.  I require two things of you and your companions, if my request to Skereth is granted.”  I turned and motioned for the others to approach so they could hear Longstride’s requests.  “Firstly, this process requires the sacrifice of a diamond of considerable quality and value.  I require a replacement – the measure is an appraised quality of five hundred gold or more.”  I heard Reikon let out a whistle.  “Secondly, we ask that you remove the orcs that formerly camped near our home from this forest.  Their presence sickens us and surely their proximity to Taureth must concern you.  Further, we ask that these tasks be completed before the end of the full cycle of the moon.”
“They are, indeed, defilers of the wilderness and they must be removed.”  I replied.  “Will you be able to assist us with some manpower in this regard?”
“Unfortuntely, no.”  I was surprised, and a little concerned at his reply – it suggested perhaps something more sinister than was immediately obvious.  “I do not wish to risk any more of my people fighting those creatures.”

I excused myself from Longstride to discuss the proposition with my companions.  Generally speaking, the response was ‘well, what choice to we have?’.  Reikon was suspicious, but agreed.  Warramayl was excited and the others generally looking forward to kicking some orc-butt.

I returned to the centaur.

“Very well, Longstride.  We will make these commitments to you, your god and your people.  We will bring you the replacement diamond you require and remove the orcs from the forest, somehow, in the next 28 days.”
“I thank you for your commitment, Rhael.  I shall now retire to pray for the power to bring your friend back to the land of the living.”
I nodded slowly, acknowledging his departure.

I wandered over to the spot we used as a camp-ground within the centaur-tribe’s clearing and sat in silence for some time.  Finally I raised my head to the heavens and prayed, fervently, to Heironeous that Terjon be allowed to rejoin his friends to continue his work.

The next morning I awoke with a start, not remembering falling asleep.  Terjon!  I sat up, once again, a little too quickly.  I had fallen asleep in my armour and felt quite stiff and sore, one of my companions having thrown a blanket over me the previous evening.  I struggled to my feet and hurried over to the hut that Terjon had been taken to.

As I burst in, Longstride looked up and quickly motioned for me to be quiet.  He trotted, wearily over to me.  Terjon lay on a bed, of sorts, looking quite pale – I thought I could see his chest slowly rising and falling, but I could be mistaken.
“Skereth has answered my prayers.  Your friend will live, but the recuperation process continues, he will be asleep for a few more hours yet.”  Longstride whispered when he got close enough for me to hear.
I was overjoyed.  Terjon would live!
“May I stay with him?”  I asked
“Of course.”
With that, I stood next to the bed on which Terjon lay, determined to be the first thing he saw when he awoke.

*It’s Alive!!!!  Alive I tell you!*
“Rha-?”
“Terj!?”  I was overjoyed to hear his voice again.  My friend’s eyelids flickered as he looked in my direction.  “How do you feel?”
“What happened, Rhael?”
“We fell into a pit trap.  You were on your way to meet Hieroneous, but Longstride brought you back, with a bit of help from Skereth.”
“Longstride?”  Terjon sat up slightly, pushing himself onto his elbows.
“Yes, Terjon.”
“Thank-you.”
Longstride nodded.
“You will feel slightly disoriented, but that will pass in time.”
“Come on, let’s get some breakfast into you.”  I elbowed Terj lightly in the ribs.  I didn’t want to talk about death anymore.  Terj slowly got off the bed and rose to his feet.  “You’re going to need some new armour at some point.”  I playfully stuck my finger into one of the holes in the chainmail of his half-plate armour.

Terj wandered out the door, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight as they adjusted to the glare.  I turned to Longstride.
“I thank you, Longstride.  I will never forget this.”
“Go.  Join your friend, Rhael.  Your gratitude will not be forgotten, young Ranger.”
I nodded and left the building.

I caught up with Terjon as he made his way towards our camping site.  The others seemed happy to see him alive.
“Alive to fight another day.”  Warramayl said loudly has he clapped Terj on the shoulder.  The paladin winced slightly, probably aching a bit from spending the night in his armour.

“Let’s get some food into him and get back into that tomb!”  Chade went to grab Terj some food.

We ate a relatively hearty breakfast before getting our gear together and heading back to Adrestus’ tomb.

*Once more into the breach, dear friends…*
The last time I had stood at the entrance to this tomb, I was holding my best friend’s body in my arms, fully expecting never to speak with him again.  Now he was standing next to me, dappled with the sunlight that seemed to drip through the thick canopy.  It was a surreal feeling that I cannot put into words.

“Let’s go.”  I said.  Chade, Reikon and Ulric lit torches and we headed down the stairs to the still open doorway.

We headed once again for the south doorway, with Reikon leading the way.  We moved a lot slower this time around.  I was right behind Reikon, Mareth, Chade and Warramayl behind me, with Terjon and Ulric bringing up the lead.  Ulric was talking.

“Tell that halfling idiot to shut up, will you?”  Reikon hissed in my direction as he stuck his knife between two stones in the floor, checking for something known only to people of his profession.

“Ulric!”  I turned and with a terse whisper, got his attention.  The halfling bounded over to me, oblivious to the danger.
“Yes, Rhael?”
“Shut up.”
“Oh.”  He looked a little hurt, but still managed to keep his chin up (everything is relative) as he headed back to Terjon’s side.

We made it safely to the south door, but not before Ulric happily pointed out the site of Terjon’s death.  The paladin was not particularly impressed.

It took a bit of effort on the part of myself and Warramayl, but we got one of the doors open, the other would not budge.

We were presented with a passageway that we could not see the other end of by our torchlight.

There was a thin layer of dust on the floor which bore no impression of movement – it was obvious noone had passed this way in a long time, the skeletons in the first big room the most recent visitors.

We cautiously, very cautiously, made our way down the passageway.  Another careful check of a doorway later we had entered another large room, not as large as the previous one, however.  By our torchlight we could make out the south wall, and there was what we thought could be an altar towards the west wall.  The south wall appeared to have a gap in it.  We began to head towards the altar.

“By the gods!!!”  Mareth suddenly yelped, his voice dying in his throat.  We all spun around.  From the shadows at the eastern end of the room a humanoid figure, with a horrible visage and completely grey in colour was walking towards us.

“It’s undead.”  Chade said.  He produced his holy symbol and shouted “In the name of St Cuthbert, begone!”  I felt the wave of holy power emanate from the cleric.  The grey figure appeared indifferent.  It also appeared to be hostile.  “It’s too powerful for me!”  Chade gasped.
“Attack!”  Warramayl yelled and leapt at the creature.

I’m not sure exactly what happened, but the undead simply looked at the monk, their eyes appearing to lock for just an instant before the monk simply crumpled to the ground.

“In Hieroneous’ name!” I couldn’t help but yell in surprise at what I had just seen.

“Don’t look at it’s eyes!”  Mareth yelled as we all charged forward to attack, trying not to look directly at it’s face.

The creature did not panic at being outnumbered four to one.  Four!?  It was at this point I noticed that Terjon and Ulric were not among us.  I was worried, but I had to concentrate on other things.  We had all engaged the monster and had it pretty much surrounded, but it took us a little while to get its measure as it lashed out with feet and hands. While trying not to look at your opponent, you make it much harder on yourself.

After being struck on the shoulder by a grey fist, Mareth looked up for just a split second.  My heart sank.  The creature’s eyes locked on Mareth’s face, the colour drained from the elf’s face and he sank to the ground.  

At this point, while it was facing away from me, I took a good swing and struck it heavily on the torso.  Feeling pretty good about myself, I was horrified to see the wound close over almost immediately.

“We need magic weapons!”  I shouted, knowing that none of us possessed such things.  It was a mistake, Reikon looked up in response to my cry and ended up looking straight at the undead monster.  He screamed as he beheld that terrible face and fell to the floor, his longsword clattering on the stone floor as it fell from his fingers.

“Whatever you do, don’t look at it!”  I shouted to Chade.

The cleric nodded grimly and swung his mace at the undead with renewed vigour.  

Trying to take an opportunity while the creature was defending against Chade, I decided to put my training as a cleric to the test.  I held my sword up to where the sky would be and intoned:
“Hieroneous, enchant this weapon in thy name and grant me the power to destroy my adversary.”  I barely noticed the undead take a hasty swipe at me as I felt the power of the divine flow through my hands into my sword.

I could feel the magic in the sword as I swung it and scored a palpable hit on the things ribs, this time, the wound did not close over.  It screeched!  It was as horrible sound as I had ever heard, almost freezing me in my tracks.  Chade, mid-swing at the time turned slightly and caught the gaze of the creature.  His mace clanged to the floor as it fell from his lifeless fingers, his body then went limp and he fell to the floor.

I was the last one left.

I had no idea what was wrong with my friends, but they didn’t look like they were going to be helping me out anytime soon.

Carefully keeping my eyes lowered, doing what Antoral had always told us not to do and watching the limbs rather than the face of my adversary, I dug my heels in and fought on.

The blows came quickly, and I was struck in the shield and then my right leg by two strikes in quick succession.  I managed to get a few more good solid hits in quick succession, including one very deep cut to the creature’s leg which appeared to be hampering it’s movement somewhat.

The fight went on for what seemed like a lot longer than the minute or so that it actually took, and I took a few blows to my body and legs in the process but eventually I found an opening and cut through the creature’s shoulder into the centre of it’s chest and it crumpled to the floor.  Not taking any chances, I cut it’s head from it’s body before turning my attention to my fallen comrades.

I went to Chade first, figuring that if I could get him up he could help me with the other two.  

The cleric’s face was a pale shade of grey and he didn’t appear to be breathing.  I checked for a pulse and found none.  
“They can’t be _dead_?  Can they?” I murmured to myself as I checked my other companions and found them in a similar state.  “They can’t be.”  I was getting a little panicked now.  I figured they must be in a kind of temporary stasis of some description.  That must be it.  The undead puts them in stasis so it can do whatever it likes with them later.  I’ve gotta find Terjon.

“TER-JON!!!”  I yelled, heedless of the possible repercussions.  There was no reply after what I thought was a reasonable period of time.

Sheathing my longsword, I picked up Warramayl’s torch which was sputtering on the floor of the crypt, I headed back the way we came, praying to Hieroneous I didn’t trip some trap we had missed earlier.

I found Terjon near the entrance to the crypt, coming in my direction with a strange dwarf in tow.  Not really having time to question his presence, I launched into what I wanted to say.  Unfortunately, he spoke at the same time and neither of us heard the other.

“Wait!” I said, holding up my hand.  “Me first.”  Terjon held his tongue.

“Mareth, Warra and Chade are all in some kind of weird stasis, I need you to help me get them out of here.”

“I think Ulric’s dead.”  Was Terjon’s response.  I felt strange at that – I felt like I should have been sorry that a companion had died and I felt callous that I could honestly say that I didn’t care.  “He fell into a pit trap at the other end of the passage that is beyond that eastern door.”  He gestured to the dwarf.  “This – “

“We haven’t got time for introductions, we’ve gotta get the guys out of here!”
“Where are they?”  Terjon asked.
“In a room at the other end of that passage.”  I pointed at the southern doorway.

“Fine.  I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”  With that, he and the dwarf ran off towards the east.
I was a little stunned by this behaviour, and I stood motionless for a few seconds before remembering that I’d left my friends lying in the middle of a crypt that appeared to be populated with hostile undead.  I pondered exactly how these creatures came to be in a crypt devoted to one of Hieroneous’ favoured.  Probably the same way as the goblins came to be in Enlor’s tomb.

I went back to the scene of the battle and waited for Terjon and the dwarf to arrive.


----------



## Rhael (Sep 20, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (011)*

*Now that’s just damned inconvenient.*
I spent the next few minutes confirming that my fallen comrades had not woken from their undead-induced stasis, and they were becoming colder to the touch.  I prayed that Terj would hurry up so we could get them to Longstride – hopefully he knew of a way to wake them up.

After what I guessed to be about ten minutes, I heard the familiar clinking sound of Terjon’s halfplate armour.  He stepped through the door with the strange dwarf.  It was only now, in the light of three torches that I got a good look at him.  He was about average height for one of his race, brown hair and beard (which was cut much shorter than most dwarven beards I had seen).  Other than that, only the longsword at his belt seemed out of place – the stereotype of dwarves weilding battleaxes and warhammers too strong in my mind.  The dwarf was carrying Ulric’s body in his arms, bloody from the spikes that had pierced his body in three places and with his head slightly crushed from where it hit the floor of the pit.

“What happened here?”  Terjon asked, rushing over to our fallen colleagues.
I pointed at the body of the undead creature lying on the floor.
“We fought that thing.”  Terjon had started doing all the same checks on Chade as I had a few minutes ago.  “It had some strange power in it’s gaze that made them just drop to the ground.  I figure they’re in some kind of weird stasis.”

“They look dead to me.”  Terjon said, holding up Chade’s wrist to feel for a pulse.
“They can’t be!”  I protested.  “How can they just die like that?”
“I don’t know.”  My paladin-friend responded.

“They look dead to me too.”  An unfamiliar voice sounded from behind me.  I realised this was the first time I had heard the dwarf speak.
“Okay, they _look_ dead,” I acquiesced.  “but _how_ can that be?”
The dwarf didn’t answer, other than a slight shrug.

“Come on, let’s get them up and get out of here.”  Terjon grunted slightly has he hefted Chade and Reikon onto his shoulders, with some assistance from me.  “Oh, this is Taklinn.”  He nodded his head in the direction of our new dwarven companion. “He was tailing Ulric for the halfling’s family, and found his way here, just in time to find out he’d died.”
“Oh.”  That was the only response I could think of.  “Hang on for a moment, Terj.”  I said, as he headed for the door.  Realising that none of us would be able to carry a torch, and remembering Chade’s light-enchanted coin trick I used the divine power of Hieroneous to similarly enchant my helm. 

After gently placing Uiric on the ground Taklinn helped me to get Warra and Mareth onto my shoulders. 

We set off for the entrance to the tomb, my helm glowing strongly.  The trip is a relatively short one, but climbing all those stairs with two bodies slung over your shoulders is no easy task.  We were both puffing and red in the face by the time we emerged into daylight.  Tired as we were, we willed ourselves onwards to Longstride’s village.

We headed for the area we had used as a camping ground and carefully lay the bodies on the ground.  
“Stay here, Terj.  I’m going to find Longstride.”

Leaving Terjon and Taklinn to watch over the comatose bodies of my companions and Ulric’s corpse I jogged off towards Longstride’s hut.  I spotted one of the centaurs I recognised as one of Longstride’s personal guards – usually not far from their chief – and obtained Longstride’s location.

I found him not far away, praying at a small shrine to Skereth the centaurs maintained near the edge of their village, where it met the forest.  I stood off to the side and waited respectfully for Longstride to notice my presence.  Fortunately, the jingle of my scalemail and the occasional slap of my scabbard against my leg as I moved meant that Longstride became aware of me after a short amount of time.  He looked at me questioningly.
“Yes, Rhael?  What is it?”  
“I need your help, Longstride.”  I blurted.  “Something happened to some of the others down in the tomb and I can’t tell what’s wrong.”
“I will take a look at them for you, Rhael.  Lead on.”
On the way to our camping ground I told Longstride of the undead creature we fought, the circumstances behind my companion’s falling and Ulric’s unfortunate accident.  Longstride listened intently.
“I fear your prognosis may be incorrect, young Ranger.”  Longstride said, with a concerned look, once we reached my companions and he had had time to look over them briefly.  “I believe that your friends are dead, killed by the power of that undead creature you met in the crypt.”
I was stunned.
“H-  How can that be, Longstride?  How could anything have the power to kill with a glance?  Even dragons and demons do not have that power.”
“I do not know what I can say, Rhael.”  Longstride was obviously troubled by the situation.  “There are strange beasts and strange powers in this world.  However, I do not believe they are beyond my reach.  With a similar commitment of a diamond on your part for each individual, I can attempt to raise your friends from the dead, if you can stay with us for another twenty-four hours.”  He looked at me, questioningly.
I looked briefly at Terjon, who nodded.
“Anything you can do would be greatly appreciated.  We commit to provide the replacement diamonds for your ritual for each of my comrades which you can bring back from the dead.”
“Very well, Rhael.  I am able to deal with two at a time, who would you like to go first?”
“Ulric  and Mareth.”  I said, after thinking for a moment.  Nothing against the others, they were just the two names that came to mind.  I heard Terjon’s sharp intake of breath when I said the name of the Halfling, probably wondering why, since I was obviously not fond of the little guy.  I turned to Terjon.  “Sir dwarf,” I indicated Taklinn, “has travelled far to bring Ulric back to his parents, “I do not want to hold him up any further.”
Longstride nodded and signalled for two of his guards to take up Ulric and Mareth and take them to the same hut where Terjon returned to life.  Longstride departed wordlessly with his guards.
“We’re getting pretty far into debt, here.”  I remarked to Terjon, thinking about the half-dozen five-hundred gp plus diamonds we had to source from somewhere.
“Yeah.”  Said Terjon, distantly – probably distracted by something shiny.

We sat around for about a half-hour, Taklinn telling us how he came to be tracking a halfling bard across the countryside.  We were interrupted by one of Longstride’s guards who came up to us requesting my presence in the hut.  I excused myself and followed the guard back to Longstride.
“I have bad news, Rhael.”  He started.  My heart sank.  “Ulric is beyond my reach.”  My heart resumed it’s previous position.  “His soul has departed this world, seemingly voluntarily.  He cannot be brought back to life.  Some say that the act of raising someone from the dead acts like a gate keeper on the way to the other side.  The soul is given a choice – go back or continue on to explore the netherworld.  Based on that theory, perhaps your little friend chose the latter.”
“Very well, Longstride.  Is it too late to substitute Chade into Ulric’s position?”
“It will delay the process by about an hour, the preparatory stage was completed and that is required for your cleric friend.”  Longstride signalled to one of his guards to accompany me back to our camp to retrieve the cleric’s body.

*Time passes*

The next day was relatively uneventful, with Longstride completing the raising of Mareth and Chade and then Warramayl and Reikon.

Terjon and I spoke with Taklinn at length, us describing our quest and our lives and he reciprocating with stories of his life.  We told him that we had recently taken on a quest from Longstride to remove a clan of orcs from the forest, he grinned and a glint appeared in is eye.  The dwarf’s voice took on a steely edge and he commented that since Ulric was dead and all that remained was for the halfling’s body to be returned to his parents.  Once that was completed, he would very much like to join us in that venture.  We discussed the timing and he came to the conclusion that he would have to pay a courier to return Ulric to his parents if he was to join our little group.

We decided that Terjon and Taklinn would journey back to Taureth with Ulric’s body, find a courier and send the halfling home while I stayed and waited for the others to be resurrected.  They would return to Taureth today and then come back to the centaur village tomorrow.

I warned them both to give the orc compound a wide berth and to make sure that they got out of the way of any orc patrols.

I must admit I was a little concerned about Terjon, I had thought him dead once and the pain was excruciating, I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying at the hands of some lowly orcs and not even making it back.

We constructed a makeshift stretcher from a pair of saplings and a couple of sacks.  I asked them to buy some replacement sacks and a few more torches while they were in town.

A short while after Terj and the dwarf departed, Ulric on the stretcher, I decided to do a little bit of hunting and gathering.  I took off my armour, leaving it with my shield and other gear, grabbed a couple of pouches my quiver, shortbow and longsword and set off into the forest.

I returned a few hours later with the ingredients for a relatively tasty dinner of rabbit, wild mushrooms and some root vegetables which grew all over this region of the Freeholds.  I settled down to make a stew.  It was quite tasty.

Chade, Warramayl and Reikon all woke from their deathly slumber with a mark resembling a tattoo on their upper arm.  The mark appeared to be a ring of leaves, wound together by their stems.  Longstride explained that this must be a mark from Skereth, for his own divine reasons.  Only Mareth was unmarked from his experience, which I found curious and was going to put it down to his being an elf, before remembering that Reikon is also of the same race.  I also noted that Terjon was not branded by the god upon his resurrection.  Maybe one day the god’s reasons would become apparent.


----------



## Rhael (Oct 2, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (012)*

*And again…*
Once we were all assembled (and alive) around midday of the next day, Terj and Taklinn having returned about an hour ago and Warra and Reikon given sufficient time to recover fully from their experience, we decided to set off to the crypt again.  We decided that we would stick together, regardless of what interesting things there were around.

We decided to check out the door where Ulric had fallen into the pit-trap first.  We found that it would be very difficult for us to get across to the door.  The pit was around four feet wide, with no ledge to speak of on the other side, and with nothing obvious to bridge the gap the decision was made to return if we did not find the Sphere of Haedros anywhere else in the tomb.

We returned to the room where we fought the grey undead creature.  This was the first chance we had had to look around the room, so we moved around the walls first to determine dimensions before searching the middle of the room.

The room was large, but not as large as the room where Terjon died.  Near the eastern wall was an altar with a large, golden hourglass.  The southern wall (the furthest from the door we had entered from) had a small passage leading to what appeared to be a dead end.  The wall at the end of the corridor had a mosaic depicting Hieroneous in a pose of victory with cowering, shadowy figures who gave the distinct feeling of evil at the edges.  I knelt in front of the mosaic and said a short prayer to my lord and god.  I secretly hoped that that was all that was required for the Sphere of Haedros to be presented from on high by Hieroneous himself – alas it was not to be.

After saying my prayer, I stood and walked back to the centre of the room.

Chade and Mareth had found a door at the western end of the room, which we decided to investigate next.

The door was of heavy stone, and similar to all other doors in this crypt.  On the other side was a passageway, approximately thirty feet in length, that finished at another stone door.  Reikon was called forth to check the door for deadly (or otherwise) traps and after a short while declared the door to be safe.

The door swung easily on it’s ancient hinges, revealing a pitch-black room beyond.  Tentatively poking one of the torches into the room revealed nothing in the way of grey undead that kill with a glance so we entered the room and began moving around the walls.  The room did not appear to be of the scale of the others, and there were stone coffins placed at regular intervals around the room, no further than five feet from the walls.

“Zombies!”  Chade yelled, very very suddenly.  We all looked first at him, then in the direction he was pointing as he removed his holy symbol from within his armour. A half-dozen shambling figures emerged from the darkness, moving slowly towards us as if drawn by the torchlight.  There was one at the rear of the group that was slightly larger and quicker than the others, it bore a menacing look upon it’s decaying features.  “In the name of St Cuthbert, I command thee to flee or be destroyed!”  He shouted at the undead holding out St Cuthbert’s symbol for all to see.  Before we could react any further than drawing our weapons the undead were upon us.

The zombies had us pinned in the corner of the room when they attacked, two had been disintegrated by Chade’s  effort but three more had joined the initial group since.

It was a hard-fought battle, but the real surprise came when the larger one attacked Mareth.  After it had closed within striking distance, it opened it’s mouth and a long, purple worm-like tongue with sharp teeth on the end shot out and latched onto the elf’s breastplate.  Mareth shuddered slightly before ceasing to move.  He didn’t fall to the floor, he just stood there, paralyzed.  The rest of the zombies fell to our blades and we were able to concentrate our attacks on this larger, more powerful zombie with the purple tongue, restricted by the geography of the room in that the placement of the coffins prevented more than three of us from attacking it at once.  

It was certainly much stronger than the other zombies.  It took some time and quite a few hits before it finally fell to the ground, releasing Mareth from the grip of it’s tongue.  It was another half minute later when the paralysis wore off and Mareth stumbled groggily against one of the stone coffins.

“What, was that?!”  He gasped.
“I’m not sure,” Chade responded, examining the body of the creature more closely.  “but it’s un-undead now.”  He continued with a chuckle.  Only Terjon laughed.

After healing a few wounds, we headed back to the previous room and began examining the golden hourglass on the altar.

“What should we do?”  Mareth asked no-one inparticular.
“I say we turn the hourglass.”  We were all surprised that Warramayl had spoken up, but the fact that he stated the obvious, but potentially most dangerous course of action mitigated that somewhat.
“You want to see if it’s trapped, Reik?”  Chade asked the rogue.
“Fine.”  Reikon sighed.  He stepped forward, wary of traps in the floor surrounding the altar as well.  After some minutes examining the construction of the altar and the hourglass he turned and shrugged.  “I can’t see anything, but it’s difficult to determine what will happen if we turn the hourglass.”

“Does the document from Enlor’s tomb hold any clues?”  I mused out loud, not even realising I had said anything until Mareth started rummaging around in my pack, looking for the scroll-case.  He pulled out the translation and held it up, beckoning Chade to come and hold the torch.

After reading through the entire translation he shook his head.
“There’s nothing obvious here that refers to anything around here.”

“I’m turning the hourglass.”  Warra said as he stepped towards the altar.  Before any of us could do anything, the monk had picked up the hourglass and turned it over, placing it back on the altar.

We stood, waiting for the seemingly inevitable rain of death and destruction to fall upon us.  Meanwhile, the hourglass had sprung into life.  The sand did not fall to the base like a normal hourglass, but swirled as if a raging gale had erupted in the glass confines.  

“Guys.”  Terjon said, warily.  “Check this out.”  He pointed down the corridor towards where I had found the mosaic of Hieroneous.  The mosaic was no-longer there.  Instead, a doorway lead to a room that contained a highly embellished and intricately carved stone sarcophagus.

“The tomb of Adrestus.”  I breathed as the paladin and I walked down the corridor, the others not far behind us.  Only Warramayl and Taklinn stayed behind with the hourglass.

In a steel, three-legged brazier-like object standing atop the sarcophagus lid was a massive sapphire, cut into a ball-shape.

“That must be the Sphere of Haedros.”  Terjon said as we stepped into the room.

“Hieroneous, forgive us, but we must remove this object from your warrior’s tomb to prevent great evil from overrunning our world.”  I intoned as I lifted the sapphire from the stand.  “Quick, let’s get out of here.”  I said, once I had the gem.

“There’s another door on the other side of the room!” Mareth pointed.

“No time.”  I replied quickly as I hurried from the room.

“Something’s happening out here!”  Taklinn shouted down the corridor.  We all hurried towards the altar and watched as the sand in the hourglass slowed and began to settle.
“The door’s closing!”  Chade gestured towards the picture of Hieroneous being lowered into place once again. 

As near as we could tell, the door closed at the precise instant that the last grain of sand settled to into a neat pile at the base of the hourglass.

“It won’t turn!”  Warramayl grunted slightly, once again trying to lift the hourglass from it’s place on the altar.  “I can’t even lift it.”

“Great.  Now we can get out of here.”  Mareth spoke up.
I was standing near the altar but apart from the others, silently regarding the gem that I could not close my hand around, such was it’s size.
“It was too easy.”  I murmured.  Only Terjon was close enough to hear me and he was happily humming some tune he had heard a minstrel play in Taureth last week.  “It was too easy.”  I turned to my companions.  “There must be more to it than that.”

“Well the hourglass doesn’t turn anymore, so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” Chade asked.
“Let’s just wait for a little while.”  We all looked at Reikon.  “We can’t be the first ones to turn this hourglass, can we?  I’m sure it will be released at some point.”
“That could be a decade away.”  Chade argued.
“I think not.”  The elf replied, but did not elaborate.

With nothing better to do, we decided to wait around for a while and test out Reik’s theory.

*Time Passes…*
Every so often, Warramayl would try turning the hourglass and after about fifteen minutes, he was able to lift it and turn it.  Once again the sands within the hourglass began to churn and swirl and the mosaic picture of Hieroneous began to rise, revealing again the tomb.

“One… Two… Three… Four…” Terjon started counting, slowly and out loud.  I’d never heard him count over twenty before, I wondered briefly what would happen if he got to one-hundred.

“Quickly, let’s get to that door.  Reikon, come with me!”  I jogged down the hallway with the elf, around the sarcophagus and to the second door.  I was vaguely aware of the floor being wet and not noticing that earlier.  The elf gave it a quick trap-check and pushed it open, it revealed a second corridor leading to another door.  We hurried down this corridor to the next door, Reikon repeated the check for traps.

I could hear Mareth back in the other room.
“It all makes sense now!  Warra, hold that torch up again!”

We pushed this next door open to reveal a lit room, with a much simpler stone coffin in it’s centre.  Against the far wall was a chest, brimming over with gold and atop the coffin, in another three-legged metal stand was a completely spherical, blue stone of some description.  The light in the room was coming from the stone!  Also atop the coffin was a magnificent longsword. 

I whispered a quick prayer to Hieroneous, wary of the time constraints and lifted the stone from it’s stand.  Reikon had headed towards the chest of gold.

“No, Reikon!”  I said, sternly.  “These things were buried with Adrestus for a reason, they shall not be disturbed.”
The elf shot me a caustic look, but complied and we hurried out of the crypt.

As we exited the tomb, Terjon had counted to two hundred.  I then remembered the sapphire I had taken earlier.  I rushed back down the corridor to the first room, made a quick apology to Hieroneous and replaced the gemstone on it’s stand and left the room.  The paladin got forty more counts in before the mosaic began to settle into place again.

Once the paladin stopped counting Mareth beckoned me over to the altar.
“I figured it out!  Look!”  He pointed to a passage in the translation.



> ~When desert storms begin to rage,
> A portal opens wide.
> Beware the calm that heralds then
> The coming of the tide.~




“That first room was completely saturated when we went back in.  That room must flood when the hourglass runs out!”
“I did notice that it was damp in there.” I replied.  “I knew it was too easy the first time.”  I continued.  “That first room is a test, and we passed.”

“Right.  Now can we get out of here?”  Mareth asked.
“Yes.”  I replied.  Relieved at the thought of being able to return to the forest above.

We headed out of the crypt as I stowed the Sphere of Haedros in my pack.  I could hear Reikon and Chade at the back of the group talking in low tones about gold and swords.  Chade appeared to be particularly keen on the gold. 

When we returned to the centaur village we headed for our camping ground.
“Now we can head back to Taureth.”  I stated.  “You guys pack up your gear, I’m going to find Longstride and thank him for his hospitality.”
“Not quite, Rhael.”  Reikon said suddenly.
“What do you mean, Reikon?”
“I’m going back in for the sword.”  He replied.
“And the gold.” Chade added.
“No you’re not.”
“Yes we are.”
“Reikon, I will say this here and now and I beg you to listen:  If you return to that tomb of one of Hieroneous’ favoured and take the sword and the gold that is buried with him, you will no longer be welcome in my sight.  That goes for you too, Chade.”
To their credit, neither interrupted.  Mareth appeared shocked by this turn of events, Warramayl seemed bored and Taklinn was obviously feeling a little awkward at the situation.  Terjon stood at my side, facing the cleric and the rogue defiantly.

It was obvious that none of us were going to budge on their stance and hence the party, this group of friends that had been together for some time now, would be dividing this day.  However, the line of the division was yet to be determined.


----------



## Rhael (Oct 27, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (013)*

*Party Update*
*Rhael* (Human Ranger/Cleric), *Reikon* (Elven Rogue/Illusionist) *Terjon* (Human Paladin), *Warramayl* (Human Monk), *Mareth* (Elf Fighter), *Taklinn*(Dwarven Fighter), *Chade* (Human Cleric of St Cuthbert)

*Divide and conquer… well, not really*
I found it hard to believe that it had come to this – an ideological disagreement about loot.

Mareth was attempting to be the go-between, trying to broker a deal that would keep the party together.  Trying to find a compromise situation.  From my point of view (and that of Terjon), there was to be no compromise – they either took the items or they didn’t.  They could relent now and we could continue on our quest and live up to our deal with Longstride and rid the forest of the orcs or we could part ways now before anyone got hurt.

Many arguments were thrown up by all parties.  Warramayl sided with Reikon and Chade, citing the reason that if the sword would help us on our quest then we should take it.  Taklinn sided with Terj and myself, possibly because he thought it was right.  After what felt like hours, Reikon and Chade finally returned to the crypt, Warramayl went with them, but said he would stay outside the crypt.  We decided that we would wait for him

Reikon and Chade returned soon after, the rest of us had packed our gear and were ready to leave, the make-up of the group yet to be decided.  Reikon had the magnificent sword in it’s scabbard, strapped to his waist and Chade was struggling under the weight of the chest.  Warramayl following along behind.

“I see you went through with it.”  I remarked to Reikon.
“Of course.”  He sneered.  Chade was chuckling to himself, looking like he wanted to throw the gold in the air and be showered with coins.
“Then you are lost to me.”  I said, sadly.  “I had hoped that you would think of what our friendship has meant over the years and it would win out.  Alas…”  My voice trailed off.
“Is there nothing that can be done to rectify this?”  Mareth asked desperately.  “We are weaker if we divide.  No sword that I know of can make up for this.”
I was willing to offer no compromise and shook my head, defiantly.  Terjon spoke up.
“If they return what they have taken, I will accept them again.”  I was shocked at first, but after a short period of contemplation I saw his reasoning.  What sort of cleric of Hieroneous would I be if I could not offer my friends a chance at forgiveness?
“Fine.” I looked at Reikon and Chade.  I saw men who had been my friends for a long time, rather than the two I was ready to call ‘thief’ and never speak to again.  “I prayed that you two could respect the wishes of Terjon and myself.  This crypt is a monument, consecrated in the name of the god to whom we have devoted our lives to the service of.  If we had happened across a tomb of one of St Cuthbert’s favoured, Chade’s will would hold sway.”  

I looked at Chade, specifically.  My statement seemed to have a significant effect on him – he looked down at the gold, then up to the heavens.  He set the gold on the ground and took out his holy symbol.  Warramayl also seemed to be thinking seriously about his position, and moved to stand near Terjon and myself.  “If it were elven artefacts in question, we would look to Reikon and Mareth to make the decisions.”  Reikon was unmoved.
“No, Rhael.  This sword is mine now.”
I shook my head slowly, genuinely disappointed.  I walked slowly over to the elf, he stood tall and put his hand on the hilt of his new sword, obviously expecting me to try to hurt him.  I extended my hand, he looked at it quizzically but eventually took it.
“I wish to bid you farewell as a friend, Reikon.  I will overlook the sword at your waist as you leave my company.  However, next time we meet you will be my enemy.”
Reikon nodded silently, walked to his horse and lead it out of the encampment.
Chade was on his knees, tears in his eyes, holding the holy symbol of St Cuthbert in his hands.
“Rhael!”  He sobbed slightly.  Please forgive me.  Please return the gold to the crypt.  I have shamed myself and my god and… my friends.”  The cleric got to his feet and, avoiding all attempts to wish him farewell, walked hurriedly off towards the east – away from Taureth.  I hoped that he would find peace, somewhere.

When Chade was out of sight I sought out Longstride to assure him that regardless of the split in the party, the remaining group would, of course, honour our previous obligations.

With a pall of sadness hanging over the party, despite our recent success in locating the Sphere of Haedros, we bade Longstride farewell and headed back to Taureth.  Now we could concentrate on ridding this forest of the orcs that defiled it by their mere presence, let alone their destruction of trees and other wildlife.

*Another uneventful trip later…*
We made it back to Taureth, well after dark but without incident, giving the orc encampment a wide berth.  We needed to restock our supplies, but there would be time for that later, right now I think we all just wanted to get some rest.  We all went straight to our beds back in the Drum and Sword.

The next morning Mareth and I set off to see if we could find some diamonds for Longstride, Taklinn decided he wanted to try to find a magical weapon at the various markets, Terjon went off to give away however much of his hard-earned wealth as he could and Warramayl just went wandering – we directed him to pick up the requisite supplies while he was gone.  We arranged to meet back at the inn at sundown.

*Eight Uneventful hours later…*
We were sitting around our table discussing the results of our day.  Taklinn had got lucky and found a magical longsword.  Mareth and I had managed to source two diamonds of the quality required by the centaur chieftain from the gemsmiths in the town – and requested notification if they come across any more.  Terj had successfully gifted his way down to his last few gold pieces and Warramayl had picked up the supplies we needed.  All in all… an expensive day.

We had just finished our dinner of roast meat and potatoes when our table was approached by a large, wild looking man with a greatsword strapped to his back– obviously a barbarian – and a short, wiry and shifty-looking man dressed in loose-fitting, black clothing – probably a rogue.  Since we had become semi-famous at this inn and most of the regulars knew us well we did get people approaching us occasionally.  We all stood in unison, hands straying to our various weapons just out of habit.  Neither of the two men had done anything that bespoke hostility, but at this point they stopped – a few feet away from us and the small man came forward.
“Is this Rhael and his companions?”  He was looking at me.
“It is.”  I replied.  “Who is it that addresses us?”
“My name is Shadow,”  Replied the smaller man.  “rogue by trade and my burly companion here,” he gestured grandly toward the larger man, “is Hejkan, warrior and cleric of Kord.”  The barbarian inclined his head slight in acknowledgement and greeting.  “We have sought you out because we wish to offer our services to the group.
“Well then, that’s a happy coincidence.” I responded.  “Because two of our members have just departed from our company and we are a little short of manpower at present.”

They sat down at our table and we attempted to explain our mission, just to make sure that they were up for trying to save the world.  I also explain our obligation to the centaur chieftain with respect to the orcs – Hejkan appeared very keen to start hacking into some orcs at the earliest possible convenience – and my ambition to join the Knights of the Chalice and the requirement I had for some enchanted full-plate.  After even this short time with them, I got the feeling that Shadow made most of the conversation in their odd pairing and it became clear what their individual motivations were.  Shadow was apparently consumed with the collection of loot and Hejkan revered strength, both of character and body.  I knew of Kord, the God of Strength and it all made sense.  It wasn’t long before he was arm-wrestling with Taklinn – which he won.  Despite him being primarily a cleric I admit I looked forward to seeing him in combat, it could a fearsome sight.
It was obvious that some of our number were getting ready for a long night at ye olde tavern getting ye olde smashed, it was at this point I reminded everyone that tomorrow morning we would be heading back into the Hoardeep to see what we could do about the orcs camped in the forest.  The others agreed it would not be a good idea to be really hung-over so curtailed their interest in frivolity, for now.

Soon after we all hit the hay, looking forward to killing some orcs.

*Out damn Orcs!*

On the way to the orc encampment we started working on our plan – strangely having not really thought about it up to this point.  A few ideas were thrown around, but the one we settled on, the safest, so far as we could tell, considering that there were quite possibly fifty or so orcs and only seven of us was a ranged bombardment of any movement we saw from a vantage point inside the forest.

The closest we could get to the walls of the walled encampment, while remaining in the cover of the forest was about a hundred and fifty feet.  We found a good spot and began our stakeout.  Mareth, Shadow, Taklinn and I all had our bows at the ready, waiting for movement around the guard towers or the low wall.
After around an hour there was some movement, obviously the changing of the guard.  We began loosing arrows at whatever target we could see.  Two orcs went down and the other two in the vicinity dropped behind the wall.  We shot a few more arrows into the wall and then stopped.

This went on for some time, for the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon.  After killing at least ten or so of their number, the gates of the fort opened.  We waited, not knowing what to expect.  After a few moments there was a cacophony of noise and what we could only guess was the entire population of the encampment poured out the gate and ran in our direction.  Women and children included, followed by the warriors.  The four of us loosed a few more arrows at some of the larger targets before I said:
“Run!”  
With the orcs only a hundred feet from our position, we turned and fled deeper into the forest.  Somehow we managed to stay roughly together and around ten minutes later we stopped to see if we were still being pursued.  
“You guys wait here.”  I said quietly.  “Shadow and I will head back a short distance to make sure that they’ve stopped chasing us.”  I motioned to the rogue and we headed off, with a good fifty feet between us, back the way we had come.  I felt in my element, this was what I was trained for, but I was amazed at how quiet Shadow was being, even outside the urban environments that he had been trained for.  I had no doubt that Shadow would be a useful addition to the group.

We retraced our steps for about five hundred yards and saw no sign of the orcs.  Out of habit I made the birdcall that Reikon and I had used during our scouting – forgetting that Shadow and I had not discussed signals.  It took some work but I managed to get his attention and signal for him to head back to the group.  We head back to where the others were and on the way I told him of the signals that I used with Reikon for our scouting.  It would take a while for him to learn them properly, but he had started well.

After regrouping with the others we decided that we may as well make the walk back to Taureth now and return the next day as the light was fading in the forest and we all knew that orcs were far more comfortable in darkness than we were.

We had a good night’s rest, restocked our arrow supply and returned to the same spot as the day before.  Once again it took a few hours but eventually movement was spotted and two more orcs were dead from arrow-fire.  Two more fell in the next hour before the gates opened once again.  Expecting an onslaught similar to the previous day’s we readied ourselves to flee.  We were surprised when two orcs emerged from the open gate, carrying a dirty white piece of linen we could only assume was a flag of truce.  They walked fifty of the hundred and fifty feet to our position and were obviously trying to find us amongst the foliage.  One was wearing the same blue facepaint as another orc we had met on the trail earlier and carried a huge two-handed axe, the other was dressed in half-plate and was armed with a longsword.
“Two!”  The one in plate yelled, holding up two fingers.
“Let’s go, Terj.”  I said and tapped the paladin on the shoulder.  “Cover us.”  I said to Taklinn, Mareth and Shadow.
“I don’t trust them.”  Mareth said, tersely.
“Neither do I, but we should try to find out what they want.”
I made sure my sword was loose in it’s scabbard and that my shield was firmly in place before I stepped out of the forest a short distance to the left of our position with Terj at my side.

We advanced roughly half the distance from us to them and stopped.
“Half-way!”  I yelled across the last fifty feet.  The two orcs conversed briefly and nodded.  We all advanced slowly and mistrustfully toward the mid-point on the field.

“Why you shoot us?” The larger, plate-clad orc said when we got closer.  Obviously it’s common was not all that elegant.
“Because we want you out of this forest.”  I replied.  “You defile this area by your mere presence and we will continue to shoot your men until you leave this place.”
Obviously they had pre-planned this and the two orcs quickly drew their weapons and attacked.

Only a fraction of a second after their first aggressive move the first arrow thudded into the ground near the larger orc.  Good old Mareth!  Terj and I drew our swords and the fight was joined.  I found myself fighting the shorter orc with the face paint and greataxe and he was giving me a run for my coin, it was all I could do to avoid his massively powerful swings and I only managed to a minimal amount of damage to him in return.  I made the mistake of looking over my shoulder at one point to see what my companions were doing.  Hejkan, Warramayl and Taklinn were charging to our position and it was at about this time when I felt a brief and sharp pain in my side and I found myself falling, my blood gushing from a new hole in my scalemail.  I saw Warramayl leap over me to attack the orc with the blue facepaint before I blacked out.

It can’t have been much later when I felt the touch of a divine hand and Hejkan was pulling me to my feet.  Taklinn, Warramayl and Terjon were still fighting the two orcs, but both were looking a little tired.  I was still feeling a little groggy so I stayed back and watched Hejkan wade in as well.  Taklinn took down the blue-faced orc and the other turned and fled.  A few arrows thunked into the turf behind him as he ran into the encampment but he made it without further injury and the gates were closed.  Terjon had grabbed Warramayl just as he was preparing for a one-man assault on the gates.

“Back to the forest.”  I said wearily and we all turned and headed back to our position, casting a few glances back at the orc fortress.

We began our stakeout again, and Hejkan tended to my wounds and then Terjon’s and Warramayl’s, I threw in a few of my own healing spells and we were all looking decidedly healthy again.  We saw no activity for the rest of the day – obviously the orcs were keeping their heads down.

We returned the next day to a very similar situation, except that we saw no movement whatsoever for about four hours.

After a brief discussion of the relative merits of the various courses of action open to us we finally decided to check out the fortress first hand.

We advanced slowly across the distance to the fenceline and scaled the wooden structure with ease.  We checked the guard towers and found them empty before heading for the large building in the centre of the encampment.  It consisted of two rooms, both of which were filthy, but uninhabited.

We decided that perhaps the orcs had retreated into the cave system that their wall encompassed and ventured inside to attempt to verify that theory.  We went as deep as we had gone before, being careful to avoid the area where we came across our almost deadly meeting with the pair of manticores.  We found no sight of the orcs and figured that perhaps we could ask the duergar dwarves that we met earlier.  Of course two of our number which had not previously been seen by the dwarves would have to go, so Taklinn and Hejkan were elected.

We waited at the end of the corridor leading to the duergar home, straining our ears to listen for trouble.  A few minutes later they returned, Taklinn telling us that we owe him fifty gold.
“They say that the orcs did come in here but after they killed a few and some of the other denizens took some others out they left in a fair hurry.”

“Excellent news.”  I said.  I didn’t entirely trust the duergar, but I figured they would hold little love for orcs and where money was concerned they were more likely than not to provide correct information.  “Let’s head to Longstride and let him know.”

We made it to the centaur village without incident and sought out the chief.  
“Greetings to you once again, Rhael.”  Longstride said as we approached.
“And to you, Longstride.”  I replied.
“What brings you back?”  The centaur asked.
“I believe that we have completed the task we agreed to take on for you, Longstride.”  I answered.  I told him of our ranged attacks on the orc encampment and our finding the entire place deserted.  “ I know not where they went, Longstride, but as far as we can tell they do not appear to be in the vicinity.”
“Yes.  The information provided by my scouts is the same.  I trust your judgement in this, Rhael and you may consider your task completed.  We appreciate you and your group’s efforts in this and invite you to a celebratory meal here tonight.”

We gratefully accepted the invitation, of course.  I took that opportunity to introduce Shadow and Hejkan and got Longstride to expand our knowledge of the area.  He told us of some of the other paths through the woods and of the location of that wizard’s tower that we had heard of earlier.  After some discussion about what may lie there, we decided to check it out the next day.


----------



## Rhael (Oct 29, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (014)*

*Party Update*
*Rhael* (Human Ranger/Cleric), *Shadow* (Human Rogue), *Terjon* (Human Paladin), *Warramayl* (Human Monk), *Mareth* (Elf Fighter), *Taklinn*(Dwarven Fighter), *Hejkan* (Human Barbarian/Cleric of Kord)

*Unjustified Trepidation*
I the only way I could describe my hesitation in going to this tower which we had heard rumours about back in Taureth was that it just sounded like one of those places where you-go-in-the-door-slams-behind-you-and-you-can’t-come-out-until-you-climb-to-the-top-and-solve-some-riddle-which-if-you-get-it-wrong-you-die.

Sounds like a bit of a cliché, but while I don’t subscribe to the theory that all mages are wacked-out crazies bent on destruction, some of them do worry me.

Anyway, I voiced my concerns, there was some nodding and general agreement that it could be quite dangerous, but the consensus was to go anyway.  Shadow was particularly vocal in encouraging us to go.
“A wizard’s tower!  Think of all the fat, [I[magical[/] loot we might find in there!”  The word’s ‘fat loot’ must have passed his lips on at least a half-dozen occasions during the discussion.  “We’ll be able to boost all sorts of stuff!”  I noticed Hejkan watching his young companion reprovingly during his excited tirade.  I almost thought Shadow was going to challenge us all to a race to get there – sanity prevailed and when we did set off, but in a more considered formation.  

The path that Longstride had indicated lead us further away from Taureth, but after a while curved back to the south and we were almost heading back in the direction of the city when we crested a hill and saw what we could only guess was the “fabled wizard’s tower”.  I could see Shadow getting quite excited and he immediately questioned why we hadn’t come here before.  I muttered something about having more important things to do as we set off down the hill to the front door.

It wasn’t until we got closer and more level with the base of the tower that it’s proportions became fully apparent.  The tower was around a hundred feet tall and constructed from huge stone blocks.  The tower had a distinct stair-step appearance as the north-facing or left hand wall went straight upwards, but the south wall was in a three-step structure whereby the tower was only a third as wide at the top as at the base.  There was a massive teak door set in the centre of the base of the tower, measuring at least ten feet high and five feet wide at it’s base.  After a few deep breaths we cautiously entered the tower.  The interior of the tower was lit by blue-tinged globes that were affixed to the walls at regular intervals.  This room appeared to encompass the entirety of the bottom floor of the tower and had two staircases leading up to a mezzanine level, upon which was what looked like a room with two doors leading into it and a corridor surrounding it.  After a thorough exploration of the floor revealed nothing either dangerous or interesting with the exception of the blue globes – one of which Shadow attempted to pry from the wall, but succeeded only in breaking the tip of his dagger.

We checked the doors on the mezzanine level – we found some giant beetles in one of the rooms.  They attacked us on sight but were dispatched with no difficulty whatsoever.  We found some stairs leading upwards in the corridor behind the rooms and followed it upwards.

On the next level we found some giant rats, dire bats and some goblins, which once again posed very little challenge.  The next level up contained what I guessed to be the beginning of a series of riddles.  The answer to the riddle set in a plaque upon a solid-looking door: “Feed Me and I live, give me a drink and I die.” appeared obvious, but what we had to do was not as apparent.  The unfortunate thing was that the door-handle badly burned anyone who touched it.  I cast a resist elements spell on myself and we tried several different approaches – saying ‘fire’ and turning the handle, casting create water spells before finally I must have said ‘fire’ while turning the handle and the riddle appeared to be answered for the door swung open.
“Well, that’s a little pedantic.”  I thought to myself.  Lo and behold behind the door was another set of steps.  On the next level we met with two lizard-man statues that came to life as we approached a door and attacked with their shortspears.  Once again, we didn’t have any real problems hacking them down and watching them turn to dust on the floor.

The next level contained a real challenge.  A shambling mound moved to attack us as we entered a room I can only guess was very near the top of the tower.  It packed a mean punch and several of us were looking quite worse-for-wear by the time it lay lifeless.  Mareth and Warramayl had been engulfed and knocked unconscious by the creature and Hejkan and Taklinn had taken some fairly solid hits.  We could see that each of our attacks was having little effect, but we wore it down and finally Terjon delivered the killing blow.

In a small room beyond the mound we found a light shining down on a short pedestal from the ceiling – there being no apparent source for the light.  Of course, Shadow was the one to discover that it wasn’t harmful as he rose in the light and disappeared through the ceiling.  The rest of us followed, some with more apprehension than others.  However, the only thing that greeted us in this room, which I could only guess to be the top of the tower was a big pile of treasure.  Shadow was beside himself, and appeared ready to leap into one of the chests full of silver and take a bath.  There were two chests full to overflowing with silver pieces, one full of gold and some gems.  There were two sets of full plate, one for smaller people than any of us and one human-sized which Hejkan informed us was magical – I was very excited.  There was a longbow that only Taklinn and I could draw effectively and a few other bits and pieces.  I entreated the party for the right to keep the magical armour in light of my need for it so that I could enter the Knights of the Chalice – they were happy enough for that to occur and I volunteered to take only a minor share of the loot from this find.  

After the excitement died down we started thinking practically again and the subject of how we would get this back to Taureth was raised – even how we’d get it out of this room, was an issue.  At least until good old, inquisitive Shadow found the teleporter behind a secret door and before we knew it we and all the loot had been transported to the grass out the front of the tower.  

It would be a slow trip back to Taureth carrying these chests and such, but lacking any other options – a slow trip it would be.

We made it back to Taureth with almost no incident although it took us a whole day of travel where, by my reckoning the distance could have been traversed in roughly half that time.  A pair of giant spiders with their web spun across a wider part of the path was our only obstacle and we came through that encounter unscathed.

Things were slightly different on the trip home – my new metal casing prevented me from being much use as a scout so Shadow was left to do that on his own now – which I think he preferred, to be honest.

Needless to say that we spent up big that evening at the tavern and made plans to go looking for some good-quality equipment the next day.

*Only two things are certain in life…*

In the middle of our revelry three men, one in fairly elaborate-looking robes of state and the other two in Taureth City Guard livery.  He stood silently for a few moments until we had all noticed him.

“Good evening, gentlemen.”  He had one of those slightly smooth voices that reminded you of a snake.
“And to you, good sir.”  I replied.  I stood as I said this, wondering what was going on.

The man explained that he was from the Office of the Exchequer and that our spending had come to their notice.  Of course, this meant nothing to us and we were just as likely to listen to him as ignore him, but when he said that they were going to tax us, retrospectively for ten percent of our earnings, based on value of assets.  The reason for this was that our spending around town and our minor fame for ‘shouting the bar’ on occasion had reached the ears of officialdom and they wanted their slice of our earnings.  There were some loud protests at this, but the man raised his hand and explained that we had two other options.  One was to become Crown Questors – this would mean that we wouldn’t be taxed, but could be called upon once a year to perform a task for the king with no compensation.  The other option was to pay two thousand gold, biannually to be registered in the Dallarn Freeholds as a mercenary company – this would mean that our incomes would not be taxed and we could take out crown contracts.

After a brief discussion of the ins and outs of the various options and a few more protests, we agreed to meet the man the next evening in the tavern.

The ensuing conference was quite loud.  Shadow and Warramayl were in favour of just skipping town, I was personally in favour of the Crown Questors option, as was Terjon, and the others seemed in favour of the Merc company.  Since our group ran on a democratic-type arrangement, the rogue and the monk’s idea was quickly shouted down and we were left with the other two options – the idea of paying taxes never even came up.

Eventually, we agreed that the mercenary company idea was probably the best one.  We then had to determine who the captain and the corporal at arms (required positions for the purposes of the registration) would be and the name of our company.

I was elected to be the captain – which I admit I was a little chuffed at – and Mareth was to be the corporal at arms.  The role of the captain and the corporal is to negotiate and accept the contracts on behalf of the company and be the official face of the group.  I was in favour of Terjon being the corporal, but the chance of him opening his mouth during an important conversation was deemed too great to risk it.

Naming the company was a difficult process and some of the names we came up with, in retrospect, would have been just embarrassing.  In the end we came up with _The Obsidian Hammers_, and I hoped fervently that it wasn’t already taken after the length of time it had taken for us to come up with a name we could all agree on.

We all hit the sack, our plans made for the next day.  Warramayl was going to look for a better quality sling.  Mareth was going to canvass the gemsmiths again, looking for a diamond for Longstride.  I had seen some suits of armour around in full plate with spikes on the shoulders, arms, shins, feet and hands and decided that I wanted to have similar accoutrements fitted to my latest acquisition.  Shadow had fairly amorphous plans relating to the market area, Terjon was going to try to give away as much of his share as he possibly could and Taklinn and Hejkan were elected to renew our supplies in amongst whatever else they planned to do.


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## Rhael (Nov 19, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (015)*

*Birth of The Hammers*
The next evening we told the government officer of our decision and he directed us to the Registrations Office in the government quarter the next morning to pay our registration fee and sign in.

I’ll admit that when I went to bed that evening the idea wearied my slightly, I thought it to be needless bureaucracy and a government-based money making exercise to get funds out of adventurers who otherwise might just leave town.  The next morning I thought about it – I was going to be a registered captain of a mercenary company in the Dallarn Freeholds, albeit a small one.  It was not an exclusive club, but it was a position that should be taken seriously and I planned to do just that.

Mareth and I headed off, to sign the requisite papers as early as we could the next morning.  The registration process was relatively painless (aside from handing over two thousand gold pieces) – all my companions names had to be recorded on the register and Mareth and I were required to take an oath of sorts.  I was informed in no uncertain terms that, as captain, I was responsible for my ‘men’ and their behaviour and was required to remember that I represented the Freeholds when I presented myself and my company.  We were we could return in two days when we could collect our flag and symbol.

The clerk went on to explain what being registered as a mercenary company actually meant – the summary being that we were now eligible to take out crown contracts and earn commendations for our actions, which would be displayed on our standard.  Since it came up, we asked if there were any contracts going that could be handled by a company of seven.  The clerk shuffled through some papers and came up with some patrols that sounded fairly boring before pulling out a set of papers describing a police action – I was initially disinterested, but at one point he mentioned the word ‘Orcs’ and my interest was awakened.  When asked to explain more fully, the clerk explained that there had been some unconfirmed reports of orcs terrorising some villages to the south-east of Taureth and that they wanted someone to investigate and possibly remove the threat.  The job paid two thousand gold and had to be completed in the shortest time possible – a fortnight was the maximum.  No further information was forthcoming until after the job was accepted.

We thought about if for a few minutes, and discussed whether any of the other guys would have any objections to it.  Terjon would jump a the chance to protect villagers, Warramayl would look forward to the fighting, Hejkan and Taklinn would never take a backward step from the possibility of killing some orcs and Shadow would be thinking about loot.  Coming up with no objections, we accepted the contract.

We were told to report to a Lord Thomast at his keep to the south-east, just to the west of the villages at which the disturbance was reported.

“Remember, Master Everard,”  The clerk cautioned as we left, “you are representing Taureth and the Freeholds now.”
I nodded once in acknowledgement and Mareth and I left the building to return to the Drum and Sword.

“Sounds good, Rhael.”  Hejkan gave me a hearty slap on the back, when I told them of our plan.  “Kord will be pleased that I may show strength in his name destroying orcs.”
“If they’ve been looting, they could have all sorts of fat loot!”  Shadow was probably the most excited of the lot of us, but for different reasons.
The reactions were as we expected and we quickly packed the necessary gear, retrieved our horses from the stables and set off toward Lord Thomast’s keep.

On the way we had a discussion about leadership in combat.  The guys were thinking that since I was the named leader of our troop, perhaps I should be the battlefield leader also.  I didn’t have a problem with this, as most of our fights had become almost uniformly disorganised and we did need some leadership in combat.  We resolved that they would listen to me when in combat and we would try to stick together as much as possible.

*Gotta love the aristocracy.*
I find it difficult to describe Lord Thomast’s demeanour, suffice to say, he gave me a bad feeling about this task.  He was notably guarded, rude and definitely unhappy at our interference in this matter – even though his own forces – numbering eighty or so soldiers, as far as we could tell – did not appear to be involved in stopping the orcs.  Of course Shadow couldn’t hold his tongue during the discussions and I feared severe repercussions if a report of misconduct was brought against our company before we had completed even a single mission.  Lord Thomast was justifiably furious at whatever he thought Shadow said, even if it did act to solidify by opinion that he was a fat, useless blowhard.

His evasive answers to our queries about what he was doing about the orcish incursions made me believe something was ‘up’, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I attempted to remain polite and apologised profusely for my men, before informing Lord Thomast – who seemed disinterested to the extreme – of our intentions to investigate and report back when the situation was found to be not as reported or when it was dealt with.  
“Yes.  Yes.  Whatever.”  Was his reply.

“Protection racket!”  Shadow stated defiantly when we were out of earshot of Lord Thomast’s guards and back on the road.
“I agree, Rhael.”  Hejkan echoed Shadow’s sentiments.
“Maybe.”  I responded, thoughtfully.  “Maybe that is the case, but it doesn’t really make much difference, does it?  I admit, I found Lord Thomast to be a fairly disagreeable man, and he is definitely up to something –“
“Of course he’s up to something!” Shadow seemed exasperated. 
“ – but there’s very little we can do about it right now.”  I finished, looking at Shadow.  “Let’s just conduct this investigation and see what we find.”
“Yeah, alright.”  The rogue appeared as if he was going sulk right up to the point where he shoved his sword through Lord Thomast’s neck.  He perked up somewhat when we were heading in the direction of several villages which were the subject of the investigation.

The first village we came to was a burnt out ruin with no-one in sight.  I found tracks leading everywhere, including some that resembled that of a giant lizard, but most were just of booted feet.  There were too many to tell anything meaningful, but even a child could tell that this village was attacked and torched.  I guessed that this could have been up to two weeks ago.  There didn’t seem to be any bodies, but I guessed any survivors would have returned and buried their dead before departing, probably for Taureth.

The next village was the same.  This was quite upsetting, as I felt like we had failed before we had begun.  Obviously the news of this destruction had not reached the ears of officialdom in Taureth soon enough, and I couldn’t help but think that any local lord worth his salt would probably want to prevent the villages near him from being burned to the ground.  All was not as it appeared.

It being very late in the day, we decided to find a place to set camp.  We headed north-east from the second blackened village into a forested area that was nearby – thinking that it would provide good cover during the night.  Once in the forest, we came across a path hewn into the forest, leading away from the road.  I was becoming more and more angry at the situation – not only were villagers being killed and their homes burnt, but the forest was being destroyed by these orcs.  And Lord Thomast appeared to be doing nothing to prevent it.

There were footprints everywhere, ranging from small to large and including some of those lizard-like prints we found at the village.  The path ended at what appeared to be an abandoned campsite for a large group and did not appear to have been used in at least a fortnight.

We moved a little further down the road and into the forest on the other side of the road to set up our own camp.  We set a staggered, two-man watch and bedded down for the night.

The night passed uneventfully and we woke to a clear, but crisp morning.  We knew that the next village was to the south and we headed in that direction.  When we emerged from the southern edge of the forest, we saw something that made my heart sink even further.  A plume of black smoke rising from a point to the south – probably five hours ride away.  
“Let’s go.”  I pointed to the smoke.  No further words were necessary.

Unfortunately, after the half-day of riding, we were greeted with a similar vision to the last two villages – except this site was far more recently ruined.  Smoke still rose from the debris that once were houses and there some fires still clung to the wooden beams.  The lack of wind during the day meant that a smoky pall hung over the village, obscuring vision and making it difficult to see anything approaching – that made me nervous.

“There you are.”  I head Shadow say quietly, and probably to himself.  I turned and saw him draw his bow, aiming at something he’d spotted through the smoke.
“Shadow!  Wait!”  But I was too late, he had already loosed his arrow before I called his name.
“Yeah!”  He exclaimed – obviously celebrating another true shot.
“What was that?”  Mareth asked.
“An Orc.”  The rogue replied.  “Probably.”
“Probably?!”  Mareth started off in the direction Shadow had fired and drew his rapier.  “You should try to verify your targets!”  We all drew our weapons and Shadow nocked another arrow as we advanced.

I have to give him credit for spotting the target, and for the shot, but not for the target.  We emerged from the smoke to find a man crouched over another man with tears in his eyes.
“Damnit!”  I muttered under my breath.
The man stood defensively as soon as he saw us and looked ready to flee.
“Our apologies, good sir.” Mareth said quickly.  “My companion here mistook you for an orc.”  He motioned at Shadow who tried his best to look chastened.
“I am – um – skilled with herbs.”  Hejkan said to the man as he stepped forward.  “Perhaps I can help him.”

I was impressed with the barbarian – he knew that actual healing magic would probably scare the hell out of this simple man and made quite a show of mashing up some herbs he had in his pouch and placing them in the stricken man’s mouth while saying his prayers to Kord.
The other man looked a little concerned at the magic-sounding words, but Mareth stepped forward to reassure him that the words were merely incidental to the herbs and were more of a concentration measure than anything else.  Good old, quick-thinking Mareth.

Fortunately, the man had not been killed by Shadow’s arrow and soon after Hejkan had applied his healing magic he was sitting up, groggy but alive.

The other man seemed to forget that we had just almost killed his friend and started blubbering.  Once he calmed down I thought we might be able to get some information out of him.

When asked what happened here, he spoke of a mist seeming to rise from the ground itself an hour or two after the sun had set  Then some tall beast-men riding demon-steeds with flashing teeth rode forth slaughtering and devouring all in their path.  More of the beast-men came on foot and some other smaller ones too.  They were ferocious and the two men claimed they were very lucky to have escaped by hiding in a copse of trees near the village while trying to ignore the screams of the dying.  Since the attackers left, the two had been burying the dead, intending to head to Taureth when they were done.

After attempting to extract as much descriptive information from the pair as possible, and realising that it would not be forthcoming, we assisted them to complete their task and then took our leave.

There was one village left in the area, as far as we were aware and I fervently hoped that we would reach it before it was attacked.  It was already late in the day when we left but we made it to the forest to the east, on the other side of which was the last village, and found a decent campsite – a clearing within the forest - before it became too dark to continue travelling.

We set our watch and went to sleep.


----------



## Rhael (Nov 20, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (016)*

*Monsters have interrupted your rest.* *

It was in the middle of the night when Shadow and Warramayl were on watch that we were awoken.  
“Guys!”  came the terse whisper breaking our fitful slumber.  “Guys!”
Generally, you don’t need to be told twice, Taklinn appeared to have not heard the alarm.  I sprang to my feet, which were now hidden in a thick fog that had appeared, apparently from nowhere.  I was immediately reminded of the villager's tale of the rising mist prior to being attacked.

Shadow was pointing to the south.  
“Over there.“  He was squinting, trying to make something out in the dappled moonlight.
A voice boomed out, rousing even Taklinn.
“Be you from Lord Thomast?!”
Being the unthinking honesty-bound automaton that I am I yelled back almost immediately.
“No!”  I found out moments later that that may have been a grave error.  A small number of horns blared from the darkness and were drowned out by shouting as orcs and goblins charged us from the forest, some of the orcs mounted on huge lizard-like creatures.  There appeared to be a huge number of them, and I was feeling quite exposed not wearing my armour.  Time stood still.  My options were to get out of here or stay and fight a battle with an unknown number of the enemy in circumstances that suited them far more than us.  Further, we were out in the open and could be easily surrounded.  
Weighing up the various factors the conclusion was obvious, I grabbed my pack and the sack I kept my armour in and ran to my horse yelling “Retreat!  Follow me!”
Whether they all heard me or not was not apparent.  What was obvious was that the little chat we had a couple of days ago about battlefield leadership had been forgotten.  Taklinn had been woken by the yellings and was scrambling to his feet to follow me.  Mareth also, appeared to be moving in my direction.  The others appeared to have their own little plan.  I should have known that Hejkan and Warramayl would never voluntarily remove themselves from combat and Shadow tended to stick with Hejkan, so he wasn’t going anywhere.  Terjon’s typically slow decision making meant that it didn’t really matter whether he heard me or not.  

Orcs and goblins were streaming out of the forest, led by five orcs mounted on the huge lizard-like creatures – I have no idea how any of them there were.  It took me a few seconds to remove the hobbles from my horse and begin to lead him away.  Mareth also began this task.  Mareth attempted to leap onto his horse to save time but the horse moved slightly as an arrow hit the tree next to it and the elf fell heavily to the ground.  Taklinn didn’t make it to me until my horse was unfettered and decided to leave his behind. 

Taklinn and I ran, slowed by the equipment we had picked up before we left.  After a few seconds I realised that the other guys had not followed my lead.  Looking over my shoulder I could see Taklinn behind me and three of the mounted orcs not far behind him – quickly gaining on us.  Taklinn was attacked, I stopped and turned, only to be almost run down by a pair of the mounted orcs as they bore down on me.  I could tell that the rest of our group had stayed in the clearing to fight.  I could see through the forest that Mareth’s latest attempt to mount his horse ended badly, he managed to mount his horse, but was quickly accosted by a mounted orc and the elf’s horse was disembowelled by the raking claws of the lizard-creature.  The elf once again fell heavily to the ground, rising only to be confronted by the slavering lizard-creature.

Dropping my sack and drew my sword and shield to meet the attack.  Taklinn had his hands full with the one and I had two orcs and two lizards attacking me.  I was able to manoeuvre so that I could attack the orc rider, having a theory that perhaps, unguided the lizard creatures may not attack us anymore.  I took down the rider and waited to see if the lizard pressed the attack.  The lunge of the second lizard hit my shield with full force, almost knocking me from my feet and jarring my arm.  The rider-less lizard appeared disinterested and began to wander off but then spotted my horse and attacked it.  The animal put up a reasonable resistance but stood no chance and was quickly felled.  I was disappointed and saddened that I had been unable to protect the mount.  The lizard stopped and began to feed on the carcass of my horse.

My moment’s distraction almost proved fatal as I was slow in sidestepping an attack from the other lizard and was close to being bitten in two.  The jaws snapped shut on the spot I had been only moments ago, but I was not so lucky when it pressed the attack with it’s claws, both caught me mid twist and tore a huge gash on the left side of my torso and my right leg respectively.  Ignoring the excruciating pain for the moment I twisted one last time to stand beside the lizard and thrust my sword through the rider’s chest.  The orc gasped and fell to the ground.  The same tactic had worked on the other one, so I stopped briefly and waited for the lizard to move away.  I exhaled, relieved when it appeared to lose interest in food it had to fight for and began munching on the comatose orc that had just fallen off it’s back.  

I cast a spell of healing on myself to close my wounds and began to head towards Taklinn.
“Kill the rider!”  I yelled at the dwarf, who had been previously concentrating on the lizard, without much success.  He must have heard me for his next attack was directed at the orc, his sword cutting the orc’s arm off at the bicep.  It fell, screaming to the ground where its former mount stepped on it stricken creature’s head.
“Hold still!”  I was still twenty feet away.
Taklinn obeyed and the lizard began to wander off.

I ran up beside the dwarf.
“Let’s get back and help the others!”  I took note of the spot where we left our gear and ran back to the others.  The sight that greeted us was one like I had never seen before.

Shadow was in the branches of a tree, frantically shooting arrows at the goblins who tried to climb up after him as we entered the clearing I saw him put an arrow through a goblin’s head from point blank range and send it crashing to the ground taking two of it’s companions with it.  Mareth and Terjon were standing at the base of Shadow’s tree, fighting for their respective lives against orcs and the last mounted orc which threatened to surround them.  Hejkan was locked in mortal combat with an enraged orc with a gigantic battle axe.  Behind that orc stood another, carrying a staff with a skull atop.  It appeared to be casting a spell.  Warramayl was just beyond the barbarian in the midst the bodies of dead goblins, he looked a bit the worse for wear but was grinning and was just heading towards Mareth and Terjon’s position.  Slightly less than half of the horses we had remained, the orcs and goblins had killed several of our pack-horses and some of our warhorses, meaning that at least on of us would have to walk.

“Go help Mareth and Terj!”  I said to Taklinn as I ran off to help Hejkan who looked to be on his last legs.  The dwarf nodded and ran off.

I charged at the orc with the staff which had just hit the barbarian with several magical missiles, it only barely had a chance to see me coming before I plunged my sword through it’s throat, the words of a spell dying on its lips.  I turned to see the orc knock Hejkan to the ground and turn to me.  I noticed that Hejkan was not quite unconscious and appeared to be casting a spell of healing (at least that was my best guess).  The orc didn’t notice and the barbarian climbed to his feet behind the orc and wearily thrust his greatsword through the orc’s head as I dodged a hefty swing with it’s axe.

I smiled grimly at the barbarian as we turned our attention to the combat at the base of the tree.  Several goblins and orcs lay dead and Shadow had just put an arrow through the lizard-rider’s head and I yelled for them to leave the lizard alone, but from what I could tell, my words were lost in the cacophony of battle.  

Taklinn was now attacking the orcs that surrounded our companions from behind and we began heading in that direction.  The lizard began to wander off, but found Warramayl in it’s way and attacked, striking the monk with it’s powerful claws, knocking him to the ground.  I looked at Hejkan, worried that the lizard may decide to stop for a snack.  The barbarian nodded once before running around the battle to assist the monk.  Luckily the lizard appeared contented that the immediate threat was over and had begun to wander off by the time Hejkan had made it to his side to administer the required healing spell.

I waded into the remaining orcs surrounding Mareth and Terjon.  With most of their efforts directed towards not dying, the elf and the paladin had not managed to kill many of their attackers, but now that we were all together again, they pressed the attack and the rest of our assailants were dispatched with very little fuss, several ran into the forest during the dying stages and were not pursued.

Like at the beginning of the battle, time once again seemed to stand still as I surveyed the battlefield.  The eerie glow of the moon robbing everything of it’s colour, making the scene look like a charcoal sketch, albeit a detailed one.  There were bodies everywhere and we were all covered in blood, our own intermingled with our attackers’.  I have no idea how many attacked us, and I have no idea how many ran away, but there had to be at least twenty goblins and probably thirty orcs, not including the mounted ones and the mage.

Mareth and Terjon had a great many wounds, Hejkan was leaning against a tree, catching his breath, Warramayl sat near his feet, bleeding from many places.  Taklinn and I had several injuries from our meeting with the lizard-riders.  Shadow was lying down in the branches of his tree, exhausted, his arms and legs draped either side of his chosen perch.

Once we had caught our breath, Terjon, Hekjan and I exhausted our magical energies on healing the group, so that we could travel - the idea being to get away from this area as soon as possible, just in case their were more.  Shadow broke some small but sturdy looking branches off the tree before he climbed down, saying that it was his lucky tree and maybe Hejkan could make a wand of healing out of one of these sticks.  Hejkan smiled.

While the rest of us gathered up our gear and I headed back into the forest to pick up the stuff I left behind, Shadow went through his obligatory looting of the corpses.  The haul was relatively meagre, the only item of real interest being the skull-staff the orc mage had.  The rest of the booty was made up of a couple of handfuls of coins and the battleaxe the big fighter was wearing.

Weary from the combat and lack of rest, we put on our armour, strapped on our weapons, mounted the horses that remained, Warramayl opting to walk (he could outpace the horses anyway), and headed back to the road.

*Hard to do good when the bad guys are doing well*
Once back on the road and heading north we came across another path cut through the forest, very similar to the other one.  Once again there were tracks everywhere, and these appeared to be relatively fresh.  We cautiously followed the path, Shadow out in front silently stalking along.  After short distance of no more than fifty yards the path opened out into a clearing, very similar in dimensions to the last one we found, but in this case, filled with tents.  This was the current base of operations for the band – and it appeared deserted.  We checked every tent, and found no-one and it wasn’t until we looked in the larger tent in the centre of the encampment that we found anything of interest.  Aside from a small chest full of gold coins and a couple of small gems, we found a map of the area with the villages in the area circled.  Three of them had crosses through them.

This smelled, and not just of unwashed orc body.

“I was right!”  Shadow stated, triumphantly.  “Protection racket!”
“It would appear so.”  I responded, thoughtfully.  It did seem that he was correct in his assertion, but what could we do?
“This Lord was taking money from _his_ people and burning their villages if they didn’t pay?”  Hejkan asked?
“Yup!”  Shadow replied.  Hands on hips.
“But he didn’t do it.”  I pointed out.  “He got some orcs to do it for him, thereby removing his connection.”
“That is wrong.”  The big barbarian said pointedly.  
“It is, my friend.”
“We should report this Lord to the authorities in Taureth and warn the people of the remaining village.”  Hejkan was quite angry about the situation.  As was I, but a bit more rational.
“It wouldn’t make any difference.”
“But - !”
“Think it through, Hejkan.  We go back to Taureth and tell the government that one of the _Lords_ of the Dallarn Freeholds is paying orcs to run a protection racket against the villages in his area and we present them with this map and the coins and our opinion of his general demeanour.”
“And he is arrested and hanged for treason.”  The barbarian finished.
“No!”  I was a little angry that he couldn’t see my point – that was unfair, of course as Hejkan knew an entirely different justice than those meted out by ‘civilised’ governments.  I made an effort to be calm.  “We would be accusing a Lord of criminal activities with no real evidence – “
“But we have the map.”
“The map means nothing!  The map is just a map.  There is nothing on the map that points to Lord Thomast – _we_ might know what it means, but to the authorities, it would be just a map.”  I paused.  “You can’t go around accusing Lords of things, you have to have proof!  Do you know what would happen after we laid this accusation?”
“No.”
“Lord Thomast would dispute the claim, pointing at the lack of evidence and the absurdity of the claim and call for us all to be hanged for accusing one of our betters of criminal activities.  The authorities would have no choice but to do so, even if we were able to convince them that we were right.”
“Oh.”
“I support you completely in your outrage and your desire to do the right thing, Hejkan, but this is one of those situations when discretion is the better part of valour – there is nothing more we can do.  We are required to report back to Lord Thomast that the orc band is dead, then return to Taureth to collect our payment.”  I looked sadly at the big man’s face, trying to convey that I was dreadfully sorry for the situation.  “I’m sorry, my friend, but there is nothing more we can do.”
Hejkan thought for a few moments.
“We should warn the remaining village.”
“And tell them what?  That their lord is planning to exhort money from them or he’ll burn their village to the ground?”
“Yes.”
“Hejkan, I counsel you against this course of action.  I think it’s a bad idea, however I will not stop you if you really want to do this.”
“We must show strength in the face of this evil.”  He replied, defiantly.  “Kord would want me to do this, at least.”
I looked at the other guys.
“What do you guys think of all this?  Does anyone disagree with my thinking on this matter?”
All responded that they agreed with my take on the situation, and agreed to go along with Hejkan’s desire to warn the remaining village.
“Very well.  We will head to the last village.  Only two of us will go in, however.  I don’t think an armed band would help our case, Terjon, you should go with Hejkan.  Just stand there and look Paladin-like.”  Terj nodded in response. 

We travelled through the rest of the night and neared the village by mid morning.  The rest of us waited by the road a half-mile out of town while Terjon and Hejkan headed in to town.

When they returned they had a sad tale to tell.  Hejkan had been unsuccessful in convincing the leader of the townsfolk that they meant no harm and only came to warn them and obviously believed that they were merely trying to warn them of their lord’s unscrupulous nature.  After a short period of trying to win her over, the barbarian admitted defeat and left, angry and sad at the same time.  Terjon vouched that he managed to keep his cool remarkably well through the exhange.

“I’m sorry, Hejkan.  You did your best.  That is all you can do.”
He just looked at me, sadly.

“Come on, guys.  Let’s get out of here.”

It took us a couple of days to get back to Lord Thomast’s keep, and I wrote my report during the evenings, careful to leave out anything about protection rackets, I reported the facts as they would appear to anyone else.  As I suspected, he was not particularly interested in our report, dismissive, even – although I got the feeling that his unconcerned demeanour was a bit of an act.  I took my leave of him as soon as I could politely do so and lead the group back to Taureth.  On the way, Mareth reminded me that we were due back at the Loremasters to retrieve the report we paid for all those months ago.

We reported back to the commissions office to hand in my report and receive our bounty and the standard of the Obsidian Hammers, with it’s freshly embroidered point (five points making a star) in the top left hand corner.  It looked kind of pathetic, there on it’s own, but I felt a sense of pride, nonetheless.

Mareth and I decided we would return to the Loremasters the next day to see if they had finished our report as yet.

* _This heading is a throwback to the message that appeared in the old gold box AD&D games.  Long live Poolrad._


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## Rhael (Dec 30, 2002)

*Player's Perspective (017)*

*Party Update*
Only change is that Mareth now is a Fighter/Mage.
*Rhael* (Human Ranger/Cleric), *Shadow* (Human Rogue), *Terjon* (Human Paladin), *Warramayl* (Human Monk), *Mareth* (Elf Fighter/Mage), *Taklinn*(Dwarven Fighter), *Hejkan* (Human Barbarian/Cleric of Kord)

*The Loremasters*
The rising of the sun told me that it was time to go back and see those supercilious know-it-alls who call themselves Loremasters.

We all rose a little later than usual and had a hearty breakfast before Mareth and I headed off to the Loremasters to see if they had any information for our one hundred and fifty gold.  It seemed like a lot of cash at the time, but a much larger amount of funds had passed through our hands since then.

The Loremasters informed us, with an upturned nose that before they would deliver their report we had to be deemed worthy of being the recipients of the information.  They went on to inform us that a certain cult that listed worshipping demons among their hobbies had established a presence in Taureth, albeit a relatively minor one.  They wanted us to prove our worth by eradicating them.  They were far from the most threatening presence in Taureth, but the Loremasters  found their presence to be unacceptable.  I shared their objection to the presence of demon worshippers in the town – I was apprehensive about facing a demon that was potentially far beyond my strength – but it was important to me that we did this and not only for the furtherance of our quest.
“Of course we will undertake this task for you.”  I responded after an approving nod from Mareth.

One of the Loremasters told us of the exact location of the demon-worshippers’ hideout – in an old building that had, in the past been an insane asylum, but more recently had simply been a warehouse.

We collected our gear and the others and headed for the designated building.  It was a squat, iron structure that was built as the entrance hall to the asylum, which was predominantly underground.

Considering that this was supposed to be a stronghold of demon worshippers and we hadn’t seen any guards or resistance to our approach, Shadow made a very thorough check of the front door.  Sure enough, he found two traps – one on the door handle and one in the lock.  He extracted his tools and set to work disabling the two insidious devices in a matter of moments.
“Decent traps, but not terribly well hidden.”  He commented, more to himself than us as he stowed his tools.

Terj and I readied ourselves for an attack as Shadow swung the door open.  Nothing.
“Wow.  That was exciting.”  Remarked Mareth, dryly.  “Can we do that again, I don’t want to miss anything.”
“Shut up, elf.”  Taklinn said, gruffly and gave Mareth a defiant look.  The elf sighed and let the jibe pass.

I turned and put my finger to my lips. 
“Shh” I hushed, tersely. 

With a signal from Shadow, we ventured forth into the darkness, only the light of Shadow and Hejkan’s freshly lit torches guiding our way.  

This level of the building was basically a large room with a desk at the far end and some waiting areas off to the side.  In the far, rear corners behind the desk were two spiral staircases, leading downwards.  A quick search of this level revealed nothing except the relatively recent footprints of the last people who came up the stairs and headed for the front door.

“Well, something’s alive down there.”  Commented Taklinn when I mentioned the tracks.
I quickly looked at Mareth, hoping to silence any witty retort he had and avoid any unpleasantness.  Luckily he caught my eye because the dwarf wasn’t as good at letting things slide as he was.

Peering down the middle of the spiral stairs, which descended some fifty feet I could make out the barest hint of light.  I urged everyone to be as quiet as possible while heading down the stairs and we began climbing down.

At the bottom, we were faced with a corridor that ended in a doorway, the walls were wood panelled and adorned with tapestries.  The door was slightly ajar and there was light shining through the opening.

Shadow handed his torch to Warramayl and approached the door.  He poked his head around the doorjamb and looked around, after a few moments he signalled for us to approach and swung the door fully open.

The room was certainly not what we expected.  It was expensively furnished and decorated, bookcases lined the walls and elaborate rugs covered the floors and was obviously once a very pleasant place to while away a few hours.  Once.

Now, however the rugs and the couches were stained with the blood of the dozen or so black-garbed bodies that lay strewn around the room.  A large pile of books stood in the centre of the room where they had obviously been set alight and then doused with water.

Shadow was close to tears.
“Look at all this stuff!”  He said, through gritted teeth.  “It would be worth an absolute _fortune_ if it hadn’t been for this destruction.  This was a surreal and slightly comical moment for me – Shadow’s reaction was somewhat similar to Terjon’s reaction to starving children and diseased or downtrodden people.  I could envision him kneeling near the pile of soggy books in the centre of the room, falling to his knees and shouting to the heavens “By the gods!  Why? Why?!”

“They are only material possessions, my friend.”  Warramayl sensed Shadow’s distress and placed his hand on the rogue’s shoulder.  “They will not provide happiness.  True happiness comes from within.  Look within yourself and seek the riches inside.”

They were truly profound words from our almost silent companion.  Shadow, however was unimpressed.
“With all due respect, Warramayl, that’s bull.”  Shadow responded.  “Nothing within me is going to allow me to buy castles, mountains of food and wine and the hottest women in the Freeholds!”  Warramayl did not respond, Shadow’s gesturing was quite expansive as he continued.  “That’s what fat loot is for.  To be able to_buy_ whatever you want.  To be able to afford to wear the most expensive clothes and eat the most expensive food – “
“And screw the most expensive whores?”  Mareth asked, mockingly.
“Yes!”  Shadow replied with a raised voice.  “To screw the most expensive whores.  And drink the most expensive wine and live in the most expensive houses and live and travel in luxury.  To have people do the menial work for you and not have to sleep in the woods, always watching out for the next thing that’s gonna come bounding out of the forest to eat your liver.”  He took a breath.  “Nothing _inside_ me is going to let me do that – unless one of you guys force-fed me diamonds while I was asleep.”  He looked hopeful.  Taklinn and Hejkan shook their heads.  Mareth and I were standing near the far door keeping watch and trying not to laugh and Terjon had long-since been distracted by something shiny and was examining it intently.

“I’m sorry.”  The monk said, simply and returned to the back of the group, showing no emotion.  I had a feeling I knew exactly what he was sorry for and it wasn’t for what he said.

“Come on, guys.”  I said, after a few moments of silence, allowing Shadow to calm down slightly.  “We’ve got a job to do and whoever or whatever in here has probably heard us by now.”  Everyone nodded their accedence and we headed out the far door.

It lead to another corridor which turned sharply after a short distance and lead to another room, very similar to the last, in terms of the carnage but not so much the furnishing.  A room off to the side was a large storeroom which held all manner of mundane items as well as some tapestries and rugs which had Shadow salivating.
“These would be worth hundreds of gold, each!”  He exclaimed as he knelt and conducted a more thorough examination.
“That may be, Shadow, but we can’t do much about it at the moment.”  Shadow looked pained.  “We can grab them on the way back, if you like.”   I secretly hoped he would forget about them because I didn’t like the idea of the Loremasters finding out we had looted the place – just in case.

We continued onwards, meeting no opposition, but finding bodies all over the place.  

We had to light our torches again, when we descended further, beyond what I believed to be the original asylum.  The wood-panelled corridors became a rough-hewn tunnel with a pair of iron rails down it’s centre.  This corridor wound slightly and we followed it for what seemed like at least two miles.  

Suddenly, there was light at the end of the tunnel and we could smell the ocean.  We cautiously approached and found that the tunnel opened up into a large cavern with a three-foot high stone wall splitting it in two, broken in only one place.  This room was to contain the first resistance we met.  We were suddenly attacked from all sides by men garbed in black.  Two flying creatures which my knowledge of demons revealed to be quasits were on the other side of the wall and apparently engaged in some other task because they were not paying us any attention.

The battle was joined, the six men who attacked us initially fell back towards the only break in the stone wall once they discovered we were stronger opponents than we looked and three of their number had fallen.  As we advanced at varied pace across the floor after our assailants I mentioned to my companions that they would need magical weapons to do any real damage to the two flying creatures and I then cast a spell of enchantment on my own weapon.

It wasn’t until a fireball exploded in our midst, severely hurting Mareth, Terjon and killing one of our black-garbed opponents that I felt like we might have been in trouble.  A figure emerged from a side room.  Humanoid, with large bat-like wings, about six feet tall was standing on the other side of the stone wall.  By this stage, Taklinn, Warramayl and I had traversed the room to the break in the stone wall and fighting off the remaining men.  One of the quasits had circled around behind us and was about to attack Taklinn as the last of the men broke and ran towards an opening in the far wall – only to be taken down by a well-aimed shot from Shadow’s bow.

Terj turned his healing powers onto Mareth before the elf turned and charged across the floor directly at the creature, leaping onto the stone wall and thrusting his rapier at it’s head.  He missed.  The distraction, however gave Warramayl and I a chance to move around the inside of the wall and attack.  Terjon had joined Taklinn’s battle with the quasit and Shadow was firing arrows at whatever he could see from his hiding place behind some boxes.

The creature, which upon closer inspection resembled a cross between a demonoid and a vampire didn’t manage to cast any further spells as we surrounded it and hacked it down.  As it fell, it became a cloud of vapour and floated towards the opening in the far wall.  The final quasit, which had attacked Terj and Taklinn disengaged and swooped Warramayl and myself, I managed to score a light hit as it flew overhead but it ascended to a height I could not reach and flew out the opening after the cloud of mist.

We gave chase.

We had no chance of catching either of them, and I wasn’t entirely sure what we would do if we did catch the cloud, but after a half-mile or so the passage ended at what I assumed to be the ocean, under an overhanging cliff.  A brief search revealed that there was no way of getting out of here aside from the way we came in, so we trudged back up the passageway to the large room. 

Shadow searched the bodies and found nothing of interest, aside from a few coins and we decided that we had probably done what the Loremasters had requested.  The rogue did forget about the goods on the way out and we didn’t have to bother about who was going to carry it out and we made it back to the Loremasters without incident.

We made our report, describing the occurrences and the foes.  The Loremasters appeared satisfied that we had done as they asked and presented us with the report.


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## Rhael (Feb 25, 2003)

*Player's Perspective (018)*

*Note*
To anyone who has been reading this, this post marks the catch-up point.  That is to say, the session(s) of which this post speaks occur after the post that began this thread, the previous seventeen chapters occurred in the six months prior to this thread being begun.

The characters’ levels at this point in the story at this point in the campaign are as stated in the original post (with one small correction).  Restated for posterity:
* Rhael 5 Ranger/4 Cleric of Hieroneous
* Warramayl 7 Monk
* Terjon 6 Paladin
* Mareth 4 Fighter/3 Evoker
* Hejkan 1 Barbarian/6 Cleric of Kord
* Shadow 7 Rogue
* Taklinn 7 Fighter.


*Where do we want to go today?*

There was plenty of text in the report the Loremasters had prepared for us, and some of it made no sense.  Much of it was made up of passages from ancient texts that the researchers had found and transcribed into the report and was written in a very round-a-bout and cryptic fashion.  Reference was made to what we could only guess to be some ancient units of measurement which only confused us further.

Sticking to the Loremasters’ conclusions, as opposed to the mystifying passages, there was very little in the way of specifics, although I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting.  The report did speak of areas which we found out were far to the west of us somewhere towards (or within) the disputed lands where armies of undead and demonic hordes fight under the control of their masters for a large section of land near Amoria.  Also mentioned was an ancient and lost dwarven kingdom called Eered Kazor which the Loremasters said was somewhere in a large region to the south and west of here, but they could provide no further details.  

The document spoke of a ‘key’ which would unlock Mareciot, but it was lost and apparently only someone with the blood of Aldaraan could actually wield the key anyway.  The key, it was written, was made up of the Ring of Destiny, the Sphere of Haedros, a staff of very specific dimensions and a mithril spike.  We had no idea whether these latter two ingredients were specific items or whether we would have to manufacture them.  The Ring of Destiny was most likely the one we saw around the old man’s neck (about a year ago now), which was now in the hands of the Fists of Hextor.  We already had the Sphere of Haedros, but the rest of the things we needed were still out of our reach.  

Sure, we had a fair idea that the Ring of Destiny was with the Fists of Hextor in the Old Karath Empire, but there was no way I was going to go wandering into a Hextor stronghold – especially not with Hieroneous’ symbol emblazoned on my shield.

After a fair bit of discussion, we came to the conclusion that all we could really do was head westwards – hopefully we may be able to find some more specific information about Mareciot and Eered Kazor.

There is a city called Illsarth on the edge of the Freeholds, south west of here.  We decide that we can head in that direction, try to gather extra information there before striking out westwards towards Kadrendorst across a vast, mountainous wilderness, dotted with the occasional town and many a tribe of giants.  Travellers are warned against veering too far from the roads, and even they can be dangerous.

The westwards journey took us through, what for most of us, was our old home town.  Shadow, Taklinn and Hejkan were from elsewhere, but for Terj, Mareth, Warramayl and I it could be a pleasant homecoming.  

However, it was not the uneventful trip that we had hoped for.  Near the end of the first day of the three day trek (it was much quicker now that we had horses) Mareth told us there were four figures on horses coming towards us down the path – they appeared to be dressed completely in black.  Even if that was unusual, I wasn’t going to do anything out of the ordinary and possibly start trouble. 

“Just stay on the path and keep riding.   Get ready to ride single-file to allow them to pass.”  I paused.  “We don’t want any trouble.”

As they closed to within a hundred yards, Mareth said that they were riding black horses and were covered head to toe in full plate armour.  They made no unusual movements as they approached.

“Greetings.”  I said, pleasantly, raising my hand.
“Greetings.”  The leader responded.  His helmed head looked up and down as he passed, slowly.  “How goes the worship of Hieroneous?”  I could tell he was denigrating my faith, but I wasn’t going to risk a fight over something like that.
“Fine, thank-you.”  I replied.  Pretending not to notice his tone.  He laughed in response.

As they passed, I could see the symbols of Hextor on their saddles and on the back of their armour, the same garb as the men who fled Esgaro that morning after killing the old man, and revealing them as Fists of Hextor.

“We should attack them.”  Hejkan said, in low tones after they had passed twenty yards down the road.  Unexpectedly, the other guys were all for it.  Since I liked to think that we ran a democratic-style party, I acquiesced.   Then Hejkan did something stupid.  By this stage they were a good fifty yards down the path.
“Hextor sucks arse!”  Hejkan yelled.  “Charge!  In the name of Kord!”  He turned his horse and rode at top speed towards the Fists.  
I sighed, slightly, now that any surprise had been lost.  Warramayl, Terjon, Mareth, Taklinn set off after Hejkan at top speed.  I rode at a speed which still allowed me to concentrate enough to cast some spells.  Shadow rode next to me and took out his bow.

One of the Fists began spellcasting (obviously a cleric), it was next to him that I conjured a magical floating longsword which began attacking him.

The other three Fists had ridden forward to meet the attack of my comrades, while the spellcaster had hung back.  I got off my horse (not feeling particularly confident at fighting from horseback) and jogged toward him, not wanting to over-commit too early (as my companions had).  I could see him casting another spell from atop his horse, blocking my mystical longsword with his shield.  A brief look over my shoulder revealed nothing particularly unusual, but a longer look told me that Terjon had been paralyzed by a spell of holding.  Hopefully the special paladin’s horse granted to him by Hieroneous – hopefully it would keep him out of harm’s way long enough for the spell to wear off.

By the time I reached my target, I was a good fifty feet from the others, but so was this cleric.  Another spell from the fist summoned a large hound with fire in its eyes and mouth next to me, but the protection from evil spell I had cast moments earlier meant that it could not harm me as long as I left it alone.  He was still on his horse when I reached him and scored a palpable hit to his upper left thigh with my first swing.

A cry from up the path revealed that something had gone wrong and Hejkan’s impassioned cries to Kord had ceased and I had no idea what had happened to Terjon, but I dared not look as I may miss one of the blows this Fist was raining down with his mace.  Numerous blows were swung and blocked, but eventually, the cut in his leg forced the Fist to lose his balance and he fell too far towards me during a particularly heavy swing and I ducked under his shield and buried my blade in his side.

The other Fists obviously had a far better idea of what was going on than I did, for as soon as this happened the leader shouted “Away!” at the top of his lungs and the other Fists broke off their attacks and rode towards me and their dying comrade.  This gave me a good chance to have a look around.  Hejkan was lying on the ground, Terjon was stuck fast in his saddle but further down the path out of harm’s way.  Shadow was up a tree, bow in hand and the others were in various states of readiness, Warramayl was looking the worst for wear.  There was evidence of someone having cast an Entangle spell at the base of Shadow’s tree where a mass of vines and creepers writhed and grabbed at air, searching desperately for something to ensnare.

I backed away from the body of the Fist slightly and yelled at the leader as he rode up.
“If you wish to collect your comrade and flee I will not stand in your way.”  I stood, ready for an attack, and had to dive to one side as he tried to ride over me.  I rolled to my feet and came up in a defensive posture.


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