# Tides of Homeland Storyhour



## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*An Introduction to Tides of Homeland*

When we first started in Spring of 1999, none of my players had much experience with AD&D, so the prologue was run with minimal prep time, using a pre-published adventure adapted from the game world of Talislanta.  It sets the stage for the rest of the storyhour, and I trust you'll be pleased to learn that this will probably be the longest of any of the posts you'll see.

We gamed from Spring of '99 until summer of 2000, when Jessie decided she wanted to run Savannah Knights.  Sorry, I just wanted to tell you how impressed I am with Jessie's DMing skill since she'd only been a player for just over 1 year.

Now I'm done setting up the story.  I hope you enjoy the prologue, and don't worry.   Most of the posts won't be this long.  Oh, and if you read the Savannah Knights storyhour (which I played in), then hopefully you'll like this one also.  

See the High Fantasy website for more information.


*Prologue: The Mystery at the Magical Fair*

_Dramatis Personae:_
Hera “Harley” Fyana—1st level Vaneljesti Elvish thief (2nd edition) or 1st level Vaneljesti Elvish bard (3rd edition), played by Jessica Jones
James T. Rocket—1st level half-Innenlesti Elvish fighter, played by Nic Bumpus
Cast of Thousands—played by the DM, RangerWickett


The Magical Fair of Lyceum is one of the few times when magic-users are able to freely share and display their talents to the world.  The Arcane Academy, located in the Nozama Empire capital city of Lyceum, hosts the Magical Fair every seven years to attract all sorts of magicians, sorcerers, spiritualists, shamans, and charlatans for the purpose of delighting in the powers of magic.  Lyceum grudgingly allows the festival because of the trade it brings in, though the average citizen must for decency’s sake hide his or her interest in attending the fair.

Vendors hawk their wares, talismancers charm and protect the superstitious, wizards sell their knowledge, and magi of all sorts dazzle audiences with performances ranging from the acrobatic to the militant.  Amid the throngs of thousands who exhibit or attend the festival, tensions are often high, so the Arcane Academy makes sure to hire fair guards that can blend showmanship with their duty to protect the peace.  Many are attracted by the promise of easy payment for simply breaking up the occasional fight, since the Academy mages handle all sorcerous disruptions, but some fair guards participate because of curiosity.  Unlike the typical atmosphere of the Nozama Empire, Lyceum’s Magical Fair openly welcomes non-humans, mostly just because many fair-goers can’t tell the difference between the genuine and the illusory.

The Fairkeepers know that the crowds like spectacles, so hiring privileges go first to those with dazzling looks, and next to those with dazzling skills.  Somewhere further down the line comes the need for cheap muscle.  In the interest of balance, the Fairkeepers usually assign pairs together that can complement each other.  Such is the case with one of the most distinctive pairs of fair guards.
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The fifth night of the week-long fair, a theft occurred in a merchant’s stall.  The chief fairguard assigns two of his most productive and popular guards so far to handle the investigation.

James T. Rocket stands out in the crowd in nearly every imaginable way, so most of the festival-goers assume he’s somehow magically costumed.  Nearly six-and-a-half feet tall, James dresses in well-worn yet still gleaming chainmail, covered with simple yet fashionable clothes.  He wears a longsword and a shield, and has already garnered a reputation at the fair by cutting off the leg of a thief who tried to steal wares from a magic shop.  The cost to pay for the girl’s healing was taken from James’ wages.  James has pure white hair and purple irises, and the slant of his eyes and slightly pointed ears indicate him as a half-Elf.  He looks almost perpetually bored, except for when talking to his fellow guard and new friend, Harley.

Harley stands out just as easily, though in vivid contrast with James.  Barely over five feet tall, Harley’s unearthly grace and slender form mark her unmistakeably as an Elf.  She normally attempts to hide her pointed ears under her red-brown hair, but at the festival she basks in the surprised gazes of the fair-goers.  Her skill at prestidigitation, which she’ll gladly display to anyone who seems interested, has convinced most of the normal citizens of Lyceum that Harley must be a disguised sorceress.  That doesn’t stop men from staring at her immodestly and women from staring at her jealously.

Their superior assigns James and Harley to check out the scene of the crime, a pavilion stall called “The Burning Sky” (a reference to an ancient magical torch), owned by a man named Arjan Thembool.  The shop specializes in light-generating and sun-motif merchandise, magical or mundane in nature, and Harley and James arrive, appropriately, right at sunrise.

Arjan Thembool is from Kequalak, a northern nation generally disliked in Nozama, but neither James nor Harley are locals, so they listen to the man without prejudice.  Arjan explains that he arrived about an hour before sunrise to get ready for the fair’s opening when he discovered that his stall had been vandalized during the night.  He’s angry, but not hysterical, but he seems to grow frustrated by James’ lack of emotion.  James cooly asks for the merchant to tell them everything that’s out of order.

Arjan takes them inside his pavilion as the first of the day’s fairgoers begin to filter into the festival.  A moat surrounds the entire festival field, with only one bridge allowing entrance.  Arjan’s pavilion is exactly opposite of the bridge, located on the far side of the fair, right next to the moat, so it will be a few minutes before any customers arrive.

The merchant holds the flap of the tent open for Harley to enter first, and she stops in surprise at the brightness of the interior.  Hundreds of small curios shed soft white glows, contributing to filling nearly the entire tent with light.  Only one far corner is dimmed in shadow.  As Harley, James, and Arjan walk into the tent, Harley comments that he was just asking to be robbed, since his must have been the only shop that was lit up last night.  He made it easy for the thieves.  Arjan frowns at this, and gets back to business, pointing out what was damaged or stolen.  A faint murmuring fills the room, and Harley glances around for its source while Arjan explains the theft.

Almost all the damage took place in the darker corner of the room, where most of the light-shedding objects are broken or missing.  The first was a tiny clockwork Dragon that breathed illusory flames every hour; its head and neck were ripped apart, and the rest of its gears lay strewn across the floor.  A rack of Tundanesti Elvish scimitars, all enchanted to glow dimly, was knocked onto the floor.  Arjan had a vase filled with glowing fluid set atop the rack, so it is shattered also, and a hideously smelling gunk has tarnished the scimitar blades and ruined an elaborate carpet on the floor.  Additionally, the rug has been slashed repeatedly, all the strokes going the same direction.  Numerous other small objects fell onto the floor when the rack was knocked over, but nothing of value.

The only object that appears to have been stolen was an amberglass sphere, roughly a foot across, filled with an alchemical gas called Yellow Peril.  The poisonous gas is primarily used to kill vermin, but because it has a side effect of faint luminesence, Arjan owned a sphere of it for his shop.  He knows of how dangerous the gas is (if the sphere broke it would easily kill anything within 20 feet), but the amberglass sphere it contained within is sturdy enough to resist shattering while dropped.  As an added precaution, he even had anti-theft enchantments placed upon it for the duration of the fair, so he would know if it left the fairgrounds.  Whoever the thieves are, they haven’t gone far.

While Harley and James discuss who they need to talk to as far as figuring out who’d want to steal the sphere and why, and whether it would’ve been possible to remove the anti-theft enchantment, the murmuring in the room grows louder.  Arjan raises his voice slightly and suggests that they should leave, since obviously one of his magical wares is going awry, but James waves him off.  The two guards scour the shop for the source of the noise, and they finally pinpoint it as coming from overhead, from an unlit lantern.  James climbs onto an unsturdy table and reaches for the lantern.

He opens it, and sees inside a small, shrunken head.  A shrunken Goblin head, its eyes shut and skin taut.  As soon as he sees the lantern, however, the murmuring stops, and James looks down to Harley and shrugs.  He begins to unlatch the lantern from the top of the tent, when suddenly the shrunken head’s eyes snap open and it shouts with a grin, “Boo!”

James doesn’t startle, and though the head begins to giggle at its joke, it looks at James and pouts with a high-pitched voice, “_I_ was scared.”

James glares at the little decapitated talking head in boredom, then glances down to Harley.  He notices that Arjan has just slipped out of the tent, and so he shouts for Harley to follow the man.  Harley sprints out the back flap of the tent, leaving James to clamber down in his heavy chainmail.

Harley slips through the tent flaps, stopping only inches away from the edge of the fair’s moat.  Glancing in either direction, she sees Arjan running away toward the nearest tent.  She shouts for him to stop, then hurls at him Ricochet, her chakram (a thin, aerodynamic ring that spins like a combination axe-boomerang; i.e., the thing that Xena uses).  Arjan turns at the last moment and tries to avoid the chakram by leaping out of its way.  In so doing, he plunges face first into the moat.

Harley, not quite used to being part of a team, leaps after Arjan without telling James where she went.  The moat is only ten feet deep, but is easily 30 feet across, so it takes much hassle to pummel Arjan into submission and drag him back to shore.  When Harley reaches the edge of the moat, James reaches down and pulls the merchant up, letting his Elvish co-worker get out herself.  

Harley, soaking wet, laments that she just lost her only good weapon—the chakram splashed into the moat.  She takes out her frustration on Arjan by trying to interrogate him, but the merchant won’t say why he ran.  Finally the head, which James is carrying in his free hand, gibbers out, “I’m illegal!”

James and Harley recall that yes, shrunken head fetishes like these are illegal.  They trap the spirit of the deceased in its body, creating a minor form of undead.  Of course, the Goblin head seems to be enjoying being just a head.  It gabs gaily, eyes closed but with a stupid grin on its lips.  In a high pitched voice it sings about how it likes fish, and that it’s really dark.

They interrogate Arjan a little longer and get him to admit that he was smuggling in the head to trade to some necromancers.  Harley and James discuss what to do, and realize that the head is the only real witness to the crime.  It was, afterall, in the tent all last night, so it must have at least heard what was going on during the robbery.  They ask it what happened the night before, and it just moans and says that it has a head ache.  They decide to take Arjan in first and ask their superior what to do about the head and the stolen Yellow Peril.  James, being the stronger of the two, takes Arjan.  Harley, meanwhile, stays behind to make sure no one vandalizes the shop.  She keeps the head with her so she can try to ask it questions, and so she can dry off without being stared at by half the festival.

While waiting for James to return from the main guardhouse, Harley pries around inside Arjan’s tent to see what else he might have been smuggling in.  She doesn’t find anything particularly incriminating, but decides that Arjan owes her for making her jump into the moat, and for causing her to lose her chakram.  Thus, she turns the head so it can’t watch her, then pockets a few gold trinkets to make up the difference.

Still waiting for James, she turns a few customers away and spends her time chatting with the head.  It can’t remember its name, or how it ended up decapitated, but it mentions repeatedly that it likes fish, and that it wishes that it had some fish.  Maybe she could take him to get some fish?  Harley declines, and instead tries to ask it who the thief was.  

The Goblin head replies, “I heard legs. . . .  Lots of legs.  I don’t have any legs.  Aww.  I kinda wish I had legs.  Lots of legs.  Tick tick tick and a drip drip drip.  Tick drip tick.”

The Goblin also chatters about how wet it is.  Harley threatens to throw the head into the moat if it doesn’t answer straight, and it replies that it still has a really bad head-ache, but it really hopes she won’t throw him away.  He likes talking to her.

Finally, fed up that James is taking so long, Harley pops the head into a satchel and carries it with her as she tromps back to the main guard tent.  There she discovers that James doesn’t remember a thing about the head, or about Arjan attacking them.  In fact, about a minute or so after leaving Harley and the head, James just let Arjan go.  Harley unsuccessfully tries to jog James’ memory, but he suddenly remembers everything as soon as the head begins jabbering again.  Feeling somewhat nervous, they put the head back in the bag and talk to their superior.

Their superior is nervous and suggests that the vandalism must have been to cover the theft of the Yellow Peril.  They tell him about the head and ask if he wants it, but the head begins blathering that it doesn’t want to go, that it’s not safe, and that it thinks that the darkness inside Harley’s back is so nice and cozy and dark and quiet and ticking and dripping and dark and fishy.

Needless to say, their superior tells them to keep the head.

At his orders, they head out to an alchemist’s shop not too far away.  One of the few permanent structures in the fair, it’s a three-story tower where mages from the Arcane Academy display and sell alchemical and magical potions, balms, and oils.  Their new mission is to find out about the Yellow Peril and see if anyone in particular would have reason to steal some.  They wisely decide to keep the head under wraps, but as they try to enter the alchemist’s pavilion, they get stopped by actual sorcerous security.

(The Magical Fair is both a festival for entertainment, and the convention in which the new president of the Lyceum wizard’s guild is chosen.  Throughout the festival, high-ranking members give speeches, engage in spellcraft duels, and generally vie for supremacy.  On the sixth day, today, a debate is held with the key contenders, and the winner of the debate has a good chance of being elected.)

Since this is the day that most of the high ranking guild members will be at the fair, the wizards are being extra cautious not to let people cause trouble.  The gate guard at the pavilion asks for proof of their employment as guards, and after they give it to him, he begins to review it.  The Goblin head begins to chatter, muffled from within the bag, and Harley quickly leans over, opens the bag, and says (a bit too loudly), “Shut up, head!”

The alchemist tower guard looks up and asks what Harley just said.  In a stammering explanation, Harley explains that . . . um, yeah, this is my friend . . . ‘Head,’ and she gestures to James.

The wizard seems skeptical, so James adds in that Harley’s nickname is ‘Bottom.’  “Old nicknames from our time together at the academy.”

Then from the satchel comes a high-pitched voice, “He’s Head.  She’s Bottom.”  Harley quickly impersonates the Goblin’s voice to prove that it was her all along, and they bluff their way into the tower.  Within, they go to the third floor laboratory to talk to some alchemists and researchers.  They talk to several wizards, all of whom say they’ll get the information that Harley and James want, and will be right back.  But none of them come back.  Curious, they talk to one of the alchemists they’d already seen, but he doesn’t remember seeing them before.  Frustrated, James writes the man a note to carry and read repeatedly.  The alchemist shrugs and takes the note, heading off to get the information they want.

Since they imagine it’ll be some time before the wizard gets back, they head downstairs and back into the main festival, hoping to get something to eat while they wait.  It’s mid-morning, and they’re hungry.  

As they walk around the festival, checking at different stalls for food, they notice that a lot of people seem to have head-aches.  When Harley asks the Goblin shrunken head fetish if it has a head-ache, it says yes and moans a little bit.  It mutters that it’s hungry too, and that it wants fish, so maybe they could look in the moat for fish.  James tells it forcefully no, and so the head resentfully shouts “He’s Head!  She’s Bottom!” until they cram a cloth into its mouth to gag it.

Oddly, few people seem to notice this spectacle, and none seem to care for more than a moment.  Harley and James get some food, then decide to check to see if Arjan might be back at his stall.  Harley wagers that he’s forgotten about them entirely.

They do find him at his stall, but he hasn’t forgotten about them.  Instead, he remembers them helping him with moving some items he accidentally dropped on the floor.  The man doesn’t recall a theft at all, though.  Deciding that maybe Arjan not remembering them is a good thing, Harley asks him about where he’s been lately, and whether any of his goods are missing, and who he was planning to sell to.  At this point, Arjan does get nervous, but Harley pretends to think he’s just worried about scaring off customers.  Using her charm, she manages to get Arjan to say that he had been asked by some Dwarves to bring some goods into the city.

Remembering their initial tour of the festival, they know that there is a small group of evangelical Dwarves in one of the least-visited corners of the festival, but rather than pursuing that lead immediately, they bid Arjan good day and go talk to their superior again.  Consistent with the trend, the man doesn’t remember even sending them to investigate a robbery this morning, but for some reason he is curious about whether they found anything interesting.  The whole time they talk to him, he emphasizes the word ‘head’ whenever it crops up in a sentence, and he seems to get angry just saying the word.  Thankfully the gag is still working, so the Goblin head can’t reveal itself.

Wanting to get away from their superior before he finds out about the head, they quickly ask a few questions about Dwarves.  Since Dwarves aren’t typically wizards, most Dwarves who attempt to rent a stall at the Magical Fair have to have all their gear inspected minutely by Academy officials.  After they leave the main guardpost, Harley and James discuss that maybe the Dwarves needed something, but knew they couldn’t smuggle it in themselves, and thus hired Arjan to bring it in for them.  

Their last task before going to check out the Dwarves is to return to the alchemists’ tower in the vain hope that perhaps someone found information for them.  The guard at the door to the tower (the same one as last time) is belligerent to them for no good reason, just saying that he dislikes all these non-magic-using rabble.  Harley decides to bribe him so they can get in without trouble, and they end up waiting on the third floor for someone to speak to them.  Most of the wizards in the tower have head-aches, and a few just stare blankly at books, not turning a page in over five minutes.

Glancing around cautiously, James and Harley ungag the Goblin and ask it what the hell is going on.  Harley tries to be very soothing with it, promising that they’ll find a way to give him a fish if only he’ll help them out.  

It whimpers and says, “You can’t wait, can’t wait, since she’s hid away with a mate.  It . . . it wetly ponders . . . and coldly wonders.  A darkness . . . and a tick tick tick, in a drip drip drip.”  The Goblin sobs, its voice filled with pain as it struggles to finish.  “Medals and prizes, medals and prizes.  Who will mourn for . . . medals and-”

A wizard comes up behind them and cuts off the Goblin shrunken head.  He stares at the little head in wonder, saying that he’s amazed that they have one.  He’s never seen one before.  He asks if he can take a look at the head very briefly.  Harley and James cautiously agree, with the conditions that they always stay within view of the head, and that afterward this wizard will get them some info on Yellow Peril.

The wizard joyfully walks them into a laboratory, carrying the head and prying at it with his fingers.  He tells them all he knows about Yellow Peril, including a rudimentary explanation of why it glows.  While the wizard talks to them, he puts the head on a countertop to better examine it.  The shrunken Goblin head has stopped talking and is just whimpering now, and the two guards are too fed up to really care until they both see the alchemist picking up a glass vial filled with fluid.  While still happily chatting with his two guests, the wizard up-ends the vial over the fetish, dumping the fluid on it.  

The shrunken head screeches in agony and starts to sizzle, and James and Harley leap forward to stop the wizard from melting the head with acid.  James tackles the scrawny alchemist, and Harley snatches up the slowly-dissolving head and splashes it with all the water she’s carrying.  James quickly tests a large pitcher to make sure it’s water, and then he throws it onto Harley and the head to wash off the acid.  Harley ends up burning her hands slightly, but thankfully the acid was a relatively mild one, so neither she nor the head are permanently damaged.  Just wet.

James is about to pummel the alchemist into a pulp for trying to ‘kill’ the undead head, when Harley shouts a warning.  A stream of flame flashes across the room, searing the far wall and cracking a large glass window with the heat.  Harley and James look up to see about a half-dozen wizards striding into the room, all preparing to cast spells.  The small crowd blocks the only stairway down.

Harley desperately throws a few vials of funky potions and liquids at the wizards, and then she and James (and the head) make a break for the window.  James smashes it apart with his sword, and they both clamber through and leap down.  Since the tower is slightly tapered toward the top, they are able to slide to the ground with minimal injury, and once back on their feet they sprint away out of sight of the wizards.  James is about to go into a rant about how all the wizards in the city must be out to kill them when the Goblin head starts screaming and whimpering again.  Looking around, they see that everyone who can see the head is walking toward them slowly, malevolently.

Harley stuffs the gag back in the Goblin’s mouth to shut it up, and James slams the tiny head back into the satchel.  And then they run again, James bum rushing into and knocking down a few scrawny teenagers who were blocking their way.

Once out of sight of the angry mob, they find a shopkeeper who has passed out from a head-ache, and they decide to use his shop (which handily sells healing potions) to hide in.  They realize that the evidence points toward the Dwarves being involved, with Arjan as an accomplice, but they can’t figure out what it might be that’s causing everyone to act strangely.  The head, when they ungag it, just moans painfully about how much it stinks of fish in the dark, but whenever they try to get it to answer straight, it just whimpers helplessly.  Trying to recall all the clues the head had given them, Harley realizes that the head is all that’s keeping them from being controlled by . . . whatever it is.

James agrees, and begins rubbing his head in frustration, starting to feel a headache.  Harley is worried, but James tells her it’s not important.  “So my head hurts.  No big deal.  When your bottom starts to hurt, then we should worry.”

They decide to loot a few stores that could prove useful, then confront the Dwarves.  They steal a large supply of healing potions, and Harley picks enough pockets (everyone is starting to look comatose) to provide herself with several daggers.  They try to be discreet, but since they’re practically the only people in the fair who are even walking anymore, it’s hard to ‘blend in.’  The only movement they see is near the Election Pavilion, where the debates will be held in a few hours.  Workers are mindlessly setting up the podium and seats so people can gather and watch.  Harley notes that the workers are so numb to their surroundings that the decorations look hideously tasteless.

Walking through the festival, its thoroughfares crowded with sitting or blankly standing people, it takes them nearly half an hour to reach the remote corner of the festival where the Dwarvish ‘church’ is.  Even during the days when people weren’t standing around like zombies, the church received very limited attendance, since the Dwarves had tended to heckle most of their visitors into leaving.

Upon seeing the squat stone structure, Harley decides that the best course of action is probably to leave the festival, alert the city guard, and have them handle the problem.  To stop her from running, James grabs Harley by the collar and drags her after him.  

They stop beside a small tent and peer around the corner to see a trio of Dwarves standing warily around the doorway to their sturdy church.  None of them seem to be suffering from head-aches or mind control.  James tells Harley to go up and distract the Dwarves, and he’ll sneak around and attack from the side.

Harley walks up boldly, holding a pack of cards in her hands, and tries to impress the Dwarves with a magic trick.  She gets about five seconds into the trick before the Dwarves draw forth small axes hidden in their cloaks and attack.  Harley is down to 2 hit points before James leaps into the fray.  The half-Elven fighter takes out two of the Dwarves, but the third one runs into the building, shouting to sound the alarm.  Since James is busy finishing off his second Dwarf, Harley gives chase, rushing into the building.

Inside, in the near-dark, she sees two more Dwarves climbing out of a hole in the floor, and after a moment all three Dwarves begin to advance on her, talking amongst themselves in Dwarvish.  Harley shouts for them to drop their weapons, or she’ll have to kill them with her banshee wail.

The Dwarves just laugh and start to rush forward, but Harley plucks the head from her satchel, yanks the gag out of its mouth, and hurls the gibbering, shrieking head at the Dwarves.  The Dwarves scream in fright and duck to the ground as the Goblin head sails over them, and before they can get up, Harley manages to stab one in the chest.  James enters the room while the Dwarves get their bearings again, and in a few minutes (this was 2nd edition, where a round was a minute long), the battle is over.  A quick search of the room uncovers several sheafs of paper covered in Dwarven print, plus a large map of the festival grounds.  Since neither of them can read the Dwarvish, James tucks the pages into his vest for later perusal.

Harley and James drink healing potions, then recover (and re-gag) the head and sneak through the trap door in the floor.  Underground they hear a steady thrumming that dampens the noise of James trying to move silently in chainmail.  A ladder leads down into a dark, roughly-dug cavern.  Picks and shovels still lie on the floor near the ladder, so it appears that the cavern was just dug this week during the festival, a fact which is rather amazing, since the cavern is about five feet round, stretching for several hundred feet into the darkness.  They move down the tunnel and come to a large room, in the center of which they can barely make out a gathering of at least a dozen Dwarves standing around what appears to be a large chest.  The cavern is wide enough, and the odd thrumming is loud enough, that Harley and James manage to swing around the Dwarves to the far side of the tunnel, hoping to explore deeper while avoiding a fight.  There are three tunnels that lead into the room—one they just came through, and two others.

James’ head-ache intensifies, and Harley begins to feel a slight pain as well, and the muffled Goblin head begins trying to shout.  One of the Dwarves happens to spot them at the edge of the cave, and the whole group of Dwarves begins to scramble.  The chest they had been standing around gets picked up and carried away down a side tunnel by a handful of Dwarves, while the rest begin to charge after the intruders.  Panicking, Harley runs down the tunnel that the Dwarves did not go down, and James follows.  

After a few dozen feet, they come to a dead end.  The tunnel ends in a ten-foot across pool of water which rapidly rises, then falls, accompanied by the thrumming that has filled the underground complex.  Confused, they’re about to turn and get ready to fight when Harley sees a round metallic object washed up on the shore of the pool.  It’s Ricochet, her chakram.  She quickly realizes that after it fell into the moat, it must have been sucked into here, and the only way that could have happened is if the pool here connects to the moat somehow.  She only has time to shout for James to follow before she leaps into the pool and swims for her life.

They have a hard time clambering through the dirty moat water, a task made even more wretched because bits of fishes float in the murk.  When they finally splash to the surface and pull themselves ashore, James and Harley check to make sure the head is still with them.  It is, safe in its pack, trying to swallow a fish head.

Muttering about how she’s gotten drenched three times in one day, Harley gets to her feet and then gasps.  The entire festival, every single person and a few pets and mounts, are heading in a single direction.  Harley asks James again if it’s really a good idea to try to solve this themselves, but James grabs her shirt’s collar as a warning, telling her that it looks like time is running out.  

Weaving through the slowly-moving crowd, Harley and James spy the Dwarves in the distance, heading for the main debate pavilion.  Before they can get too close, however, the crowd starts to surround them, and James regretfully has to bash a few people’s faces to clear a path.  They cut through tents and try to take every feasible shortcut, but by the time they reach the podium, the Dwarves are no where to be seen.

A crowd gathers in the seats set up for the debate, and several elderly wizard-looking people stand on the stage and yell at each other nearly incomprehensibly.  Harley and James both feel the sudden urge to sit down and watch the show, and their head-ache intensifies as the Goblin begins to shout in pain, “It’s dark and safe, so loud so loud!  Wet and safe. . . .  Safe for a mate in a ball of gold, which you break and your body goes cold.”

Hearing that the Goblin head is starting to sound weaker and weaker, they look around for any sign of what the shrunken head might be talking about.  The only wet thing they see is the moat.  And a small drainage ditch that runs from the moat to the debate pavilion.  Normally it would direct rainwater into the moat, but there must definitely be someplace wet under the pavilion.

Patting the Goblin’s head to keep it talking and to try to sooth its pain, Harley heads for one side of the ditch while James comes in from the other.  They both rush through the blank-eyed crowds and duck low to crawl into the space beneath the stage.  James tears away a curtain shroud, and sunlight streams in brightly.

A hiss comes from the darkness, and as their eyes adjust, James and Harley both see a creature crouching in a corner of the stage’s framework.  The monster is at least three feet long, with a half-dozen sharp-tipped legs supported a bloated and chitinous body.  Milky white eyes stare at them as the creature cringes, holding a foot-long sphere that glows with a dim yellow light.  Several short tentacles writhe beneath the creature’s eyes, carressing the egg-shaped globe of Yellow Peril.  The glass of the sphere seems worn and scratched, since the creature had been rubbing and scratching it constantly.

Harley realizes what it’s trying to do, and she takes a step back in worry.  Remembering that Arjan had said that another fluid-filled sphere had been shattered the night before, she correctly guesses that it must have been this creature’s egg.  She tells James that the thing must think the sphere of Yellow Peril is another egg, one for a mate.

As soon as she finishes warning James, the head begins to moan, then shriek, and the insectile creature rushes forward, hissing and lashing out with one long forelimb, while the other cradles the sphere to its chest.  The creature attacks James, tearing through his chainmail with its sharp, scythe-like leg.  James and Harley both leap out from under the stage and try to get room enough to fight, and the monster follows them.  The creature apparently can’t maintain its telepathic control while fighting, and the entire audience of several hundred begins to clamber around in panic, many people surrounding Harley and James as they try to fight the creature.

Harley feels pain wash over her mind as the monster glares at her, tentacles writhing.  James leaps forward and tries to hack at it, but his sword bounces off the tough exoskeleton.  The small creature, barely larger than an average dog, slashes out again and cuts across the flesh of James’ belly, nearly cutting him open.

Harley, shaking off the pain, weakly tries to throw daggers at the monster, but they also just bounce off its shell.  The crowd forces one fairgoer too close to monster, and the critter rears up and scrapes across the man’s lower body, knocking him to the ground.  James again tries to hack at the monster, but his blade skitters off the creature’s back.  The fairgoer screams as the monster lashes the flesh from his face with its tentacles, and James tries one more futile time to wound the animal.  

Harley, seeing that the monster is too tough to hurt, remembers Arjan telling them that Yellow Peril is used to kill vermin, and she grabs a tent pole from a nearby pavilion, shouting for everyone to run.  James looks at Harley in dismay, calls her an idiot, and runs.  

The monster, finished killing the helpless citizen, cringes as Harley charges toward it.  Harley raises the wooden pole over her head and swings down at the monster, aiming not for its shell, but for the sphere of Yellow Peril.  With a heavy smash, the sphere shatters, and a thick, smoky yellow gas spews upward, directly into the creature’s face.  The monster shrieks animalistically, and from Harley’s pack comes the Goblin’s voice as it screams in agony too.  Harley nearly collapses as pain floods through her, but James grabs her and pulls her away as the thick, deadly fumes spread across the ground.

Everyone runs away in panic, spreading far enough away so the Yellow Peril dissipates into the air.  James checks on the head, and finds it inert, its eyes closed and its mouth open in a peaceful, moronic grin.  Not too far away, the small monster chokes to death as the toxic gas disintegrates its flesh.
__________________________________________________

In the aftermath of the day’s events, James and Harley are called to a meeting with their superior, a few high-ranking wizards, and Arjan Thembool.  Everyone has been slowly recovering their memory since the death of the monster, a creature which the sages classify most closely as a ‘raknid,’ a species of subterranean insect. Oddly, raknids do not usually have tentacles growing over their faces and have never demonstrated mind-control powers, but since the gas dissolves much of the specimen, examination has been difficult.

After the (very soggy) Dwarvish documents were magically restored and translated, they revealed the Dwarves’ plans.  They had been trying to steal a small collection of spellbooks being transported through the festival, and had smuggled in the raknid egg to cause enough of a disturbance that they’d be able to get the books and escape without notice.  Arjan, to his credit, only thought he was smuggling in an illegal pet, not a magical monster.  Raknid eggs glow with dim magic, so apparently the newly-hatched raknid grabbed the nearest glowing sphere and tried to hatch it as an egg.  

While the raknid did manage to provide the distraction the Dwarves wanted, things could have gone much worse if Harley and James (and the head) hadn’t stopped the creature.  They probably saved hundreds of lives, including those of the candidates for the leadership of the Arcane Academy.  They promise to owe the two of them a favor, and they gladly overlook all the crimes they committed for the sake of saving the day (theft, assault, theft, vandalism, theft, etc.).  

Finally, one of the wizards promises that he will contact them in a few days with a potential job offer, if they’re interested.  The Dwarves managed to get away with most of the books, but one had not yet reached the fair, so someone will need to pass on the bad news to the buyer.  The pay should be good.

Harley smiles in thanks, and James shrugs.  “I’m just here to fight stuff and make money.  If there’s nothing left to fight, we might as well make some money.”


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

(Last chapter, Harley and James meet while working as guards at the Magical Fair in Lyceum.  They become the heroes of the hour by stopping a strange beast from killing hundreds, and they receive praise from the Arcane Academy.  Afterward, however, they have to return to their drab lives, living just above poverty, Harley working as an assistant to a cheap performer, and James helping unload goods for local shopkeepers.)

*Chapter One:
Professionals*

A few days after the end of the Magical Fair in Lyceum, with James and Harley having parted ways and gone back to their individual crappy lodgings in the poor peasants district, they are both contacted by magical courier.  A hum annoys them each for a few seconds while they’re eating lunch, and then a scroll pops into existence right above their food.  Harley manages to snatch hers before it falls into a plate of vegetables, while half-way across the district, James curses as the scroll splashes into his stew.

Both open the scrolls and read them, though James has a harder time because his scroll is soaked with beef broth.  They both read that they are invited to a gathering being held by a well-known local businessman, Harlan Smith.  The man gained reknown a few years earlier by being the patron of an adventuring party that discovered great wealth in one of the ancient Orcish tombs.  He’s recruiting again, looking for new adventurers that he could support, and there’ll be a large gala and banquet before Smith makes his choices.

(The reason there are so many adventurers in the world is because rich nobles find it more entertaining to be patrons of heroes than to be patrons of the arts as was the case on Renaissance earth.  Of course, the arts suffer slightly because of this, which explains why the world hasn’t progressed out of its Renaissance even after several hundred years.  Lyceum is home to many prominent nobles, as are most of the great cities of the world, and all the families compete to see which can promote the most legendary and tale-worthy heroes).

The two of them won’t be hired as adventurers, however.  The Arcane Academy promised to repay them by finding them a prominent employer, but neither James nor Harley is experienced enough to be fully patronized.  Their job will be a bit more mundane, but they’ll still be able to enjoy the banquet and reception, courtesy of Harlan Smith and the Lyceum Arcanum.

The next day, at the scheduled time, the two new friends meet again and decide they wouldn’t mind working together another time.  Harley has tried to dress elaborately, a tight and bright costume accentuating her agile physique while being careful to hide her Elvish ears; she even wears make-up to lessen the Elfin look of her face.  James, on the other hand, dresses more casually, realizing he’ll be outmatched in stature and skill by most of those there seeking employment; he won’t admit it, but he’d rather not be embarrassed by trying to compete with professional adventurers.  He wears an unimpressive maroon vest, which, combined with his long white hair and violet eyes, almost makes him look average.

The two of them avoid puddles of crap and slop in the streets as they cross the city on foot to the more regal streets where Harlan Smith is hosting his banquet at a huge theater.  To be allowed in, they present the scrolls to the small phalanx of guards at the entrance to the theater, and are directed to meet Mr. Smith in about an hour in one of the converted dressing rooms.  In the meanwhile, they are free to mingle and enjoy the entertainment and food.

Harley, a former (and she hopes future) entertainer, is interested in talking with the performers, while James is more eager to eat a good meal for a change.

At the banqet table, food is laid out for people to take as they please.  James has some hassle with a crotchety old war veteran who rightly recognizes that the half-Elf isn’t a _real_ adventurer.  James ignores the man and piles a large amount of food onto his plate, then once out of earshot jokes to a red-haired swordwoman that the old warrior must just be jealous because he needs someone to chew his food for him.  James continues to make a few old jokes at the veteran’s expense, but the veteran retorts by mocking James for being too cowardly to be a real adventurer.  At this remark, the red-haired woman grows bored and leaves.  James finds a quiet corner to go eat his food.

Meanwhile, Harley notices an Elf among the crowd watching a group of jugglers.  He looks very strong, agile, and handsome, with shoulder-length red hair and a rapier sheathed at his hip.  As Harley gets closer, hoping to talk to him, she realizes that he appears to be more interested in flirting with a waitress than in watching the jugglers.  Laughing to herself, Harley watches the jugglers until she sees that the Elf has failed to woo the waitress.  At the opening, Harley sidles over and strikes up a conversation with him.  She makes sure to hide her own Elvish ears and enjoys listening to him brag about how beautiful Elvish forests are; he’s obviously hoping to impress her.

Harley talks to him a while longer, realizing that he is a bit of a lech, but charming in that she pities his inability to be taken seriously.  She learns that his name is Nikal, or Nischal Al’emelos in Elvish, and that he’s a full-time employer for Harlan, working to occasionally break in new acquisitions or do the rare mission into Elvish lands where humans aren’t welcome.  He fancies himself a skilled duelist, and takes pride in being one of the few Elves to make it among the ranks of Lyceian adventurers.

James finds Harley a while later and tells her that it’s time for their meeting.  Quite out of character, James’ player calls Nikal either “Nikail” (rhymes with the Russian name, Mikail), or “the Commie.”  I wish I could think of a way to make an in-game joke of that, but I can’t figure it out.  I began to realize here that Nic, James’ player, derived a cruel pleasure in mocking the names of my NPCs.  

Once out of Nikal’s sight, Harley sticks out her tongue and gags, then laughs, telling James how she pities any woman who’d actually fall for Nikal’s brand of romance.

They find the room where they’re supposed to meet Harlan Smith, and a few minutes later the man arrives, bringing with him– “Oh, I see you two have already met,” –Nikal.  Harlan is a middle-aged man, dressed in well-tailored but not extravagant clothes.  A full head of graying-brown hair with a light-hearted caustic expression on his face.  A native Lyceian, he’s famous for running one of the largest trading businesses in the world.  He owns fleets of ships, has hundreds of wagons to carry goods inland, manages mines across two continents, and supports trading posts in all kinds of remote areas that scout for leads for ancient and/or buried treasures.  Seeing that he has the Commie in tow, James isn’t impressed.

Harlan outlines that the Arcane Academy referred them to him, and that he plans to hire them on retainer for odd jobs here and there, maybe with the option for them to become professionals if they show interest and talent.  For their first job, he wants them to leave tomorrow morning.  They’re to deliver a package to a member of the magical academy, which is the reason the academy suggested them in the first place.

A few days travel to the northeast is the rural Haranshire, a moderately fertile area hemmed in by mountains to the east, a swamp to the south, and Elvish woods to the north.  Tauster, an old mage who makes his home in one of the two small towns in the Haranshire, is expecting his monthly package, a chest filled with research material and components for making potions that Harlan will later distribute.  The two of them are to take the chest and travel on horseback to the Haranshire, deliver the goods, get Tauster to sign for them, then return once he’s finished making a batch of potions.  Nikal will accompany them just to be careful; Harlan admits freely that they have to earn his trust and can’t just buy it by saving the lives of a few meager spellcasters who stay in their tower all the time and make life difficult for entrepeneurs.

James and Harley glance at each other and shrug, trying not to be put off by the businessman’s short ranting.  Harley says that they’re interested in the job, but want to know what else it might entail.  Payment, for instance.  She deliberately tries to sound slightly disinterested, in hopes of drawing out a bigger payment.  Harlan offers a fair payment sum, 500 Lyceian silvers for each job, plus lodging that abuts his own mansion.  

It’s the last part that seals the deal.  After living in crappy conditions in Lyceum for a few months, Harley and James are both willing to jump at the chance for a nice, luxurious room.  They accept the offer, then spend the rest of the day moving their meager belongings into their new quarters in one of the buildings that makes up Harlan’s mansion compound.  Much of the compound is unoccupied because most of Harlan’s employees are usually off on missions.  Additionally, all the spellcasters working for him have gone to attend the post-Fair gathering.

Thankfully, Nikal makes himself scarce.

As the day turns to evening, James and Harley chat for a while longer, with Harley talking about her time on the road since she left home, though she doesn’t mention the details of why she left home.  Likewise, James doesn’t reveal much about himself either, because he says that his own past is too boring to waste time on.  After agreeing on when to meet the next morning, they’re both about to head to their rooms when Nikal shows up and says that he wants them to pick out their horses for tomorrow so they can be ready in the morning.  Wearily, James and Harley go along with Nikal to the stables, where they see that Nikal has already prepared his own horse, plus a spare horse to carry the chest for Tauster (whom Nic, James’ player, has dubbed “Toaster”).  

They pick two horses, tell the stable hands to have them ready.  As they leave, Nikal says that he didn’t ever remember seeing those two stable hands before, and he puts his hand to the hilt of his sword just as a crossbow string twangs from the stable behind them.  Nikal ducks and hits the dirt, then kicks back up and draws his sword.  Harley and James see that the two ‘stable hands’ are both armed with swords.  Another two men who had apparently been hiding in the darkness of the stable stalls cover the party with crossbows, while another trio emerges from behind hedges near the mansion compound gate.  They head off toward the main mansion, moving stealthily in shadows.

One of the ‘stable hands’ begins to warn them not to make any noise, but Harley pulls out Ricochet, her Chakram, and hurls the throwing disk at the crossbow wielder who hasn’t fired yet.  The man fires at Harley, but his aim is thrown off as he ducks out of the way of Ricochet.  With neither crossbow a threat, Nikal leaps forward into melee combat, lashing out with rapier.  James, having left his sword in his room, tries to wrestle with one of the crossbow men to take the man’s sword.  (After this game, Nic decided that James would never go around without a weapon.)

Harley runs forward and recovers Ricochet, then gets a pitchfork out of the stable and distracts the two fake stable hands while Nikal takes them down.  James manages to get a sword, and he drops the man he took it from.  The other crossbow man manages to reload, and his shot nearly drops James, but the half-Elf slashes the man into unconsciousness, then leaves his body to bleed.

Harley and Nikal chase after the three heading for the mansion, with Nikal shouting as loudly as possible to alert the guards, wherever they are (they later learned that most of the guards slack off because they figure adventurers are always around to stop troubles).  Harley catches up to the intruders just after they hurl a grappling hook into a second floor window and begin to climb up to it.  She vaults up the rope after them and manages to yank down the lowest of the trio, who Nikal quickly impales.  When Harley finally reaches the window, she hears the last two thieves shouting to each other, “Where’s the book?” and exchaning ideas of where to look.  Harley lets them search while she helps Nikal up the rope.

Across the compound, a final thief who’d been hiding in the stable makes a break for it on one of the horses, which James shoots in the flank with a crossbow.  The horse bucks its rider, and James takes the man prisoner.

Nikal and Harley sneak through the elaborate rooms of Harlan’s mansion, following the sounds of the two thieves ransacking the place.  It’s only dimly lit in the hallways, nearly black in the rooms, but Harley and Nikal have the advantage of Elvensight, so they take the two pillagers by surprise and finish the fight with little difficulty.

A few minutes later guards arrive, followed finally by Harlan, who fires the inept guards on the spot.  Nikal apologizes with a smile and a shrug, then escorts the fired guards to the gates, never minding the fact that now Harlan has even less security at his house until he hires more guards, a possibility unlikely at this time of night.

Harlan thanks the trio for stopping the burgulars, but when asked about a book, Harlan doesn’t know what the thieves might’ve been talking about.  City guards are called to take the thieves away to be beaten and imprisoned, and a healer is called to try to help James and Harley get over any scrapes and bruises from the battle.

Curious about the robbery—the thieves took only a few trinkets, nothing elaborate or expensive—they nevertheless need to get sleep, so they hold off their questions until the next morning, hoping that the trouble has nothing to do with the package they’ll be delivering.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*Chapter Two:  
Those who are horribly mis-informed*

The early spring breeze warms Harley, James, and Nikal as they travel north-east from Lyceum, following a well-worn road into the sparsely-populated Haranshire.  Healed of their injuries from the brief battle the night before, they travel easily.  Each has his or her own horse, courtesy of their employer Harlan Smith, and a fourth horse carries the chest full of potion ingredients that are due for delivery to Tauster, a mage who lives in the Haranshire.

Most importantly for James, his pockets are fuller.  To his and Harley’s surprise, Smith proved generous and offered to pay them a bonus of 100 Lyceian silver coins for having the initiative to stop a burgularly of his home.  Though James doesn’t say much during the trip, he often pats the small bag of coins with a mild smirk on his face.

Now that they’re on the open road, away from large groups of humans, Harley lets her hair loose, revealing her pointed Elvish ears.  Much to her chagrin, Nikal takes that as an opportunity to try to chat with her more.  Not eager to be flirted with by her supervisor, Harley shrugs at Nikal’s advances, and eventually the older Elf shrugs himself and leaves her alone.

They travel from just after sunrise until nearly dusk, mutely riding for nearly the entire trip.  They pass through far too much farmland for their tastes, and decide not to stop to eat anywhere, instead just nibbling on trail rations in the afternoon.  That evening they buy a night’s rest in a road-side temple to Meliska, goddess of healing.  The next morning they set out just as early, and travel just as quietly, until late afternoon.

Nikal announces that they are in the Haranshire, and that they should reach the main town of Milbourne before sunset.  The wide road heads into a small forest, and Harley pulls out her map to see what it’s called.  She and James argue briefly over a letter, which would make it either the “Lyrchwood,” or the “Lynchwood.”  They end their brief argument when a group of farmers round the bend of the road ahead.  The three farmers travel on foot, carrying bales of hay on their shoulders.  The lead one waves to them with a smile, and Harley waves back.  

Suddenly, arrows fly from the trees on both sides, landing amid the farmers and the party.  One arrow grazes Nikal in the shoulder, but all the others miss.  The farmers rush toward the party shouting for help, and Harley and James quickly dismount and move to defend the farmers.

It’s not until too late that they see the farmers pull clubs and swords from the hay bales.  The ‘farmers’ had tricked them.

A quick fight ensues, in which Nikal rushes under arrowfire into the woods to take out one pair of archers, Harley throws Ricochet at the archers on the other side of the road (Ricochet misses), and James tries to deal with the farmers-turned-brigands.  Nikal easily renders both his archers into unconsciousness, while Harley herself is knocked to near death (0 hit points) by a club blow.  James defends Harley, using his body as a shield as Harley crawls for cover amid the horses.  Nikal rushes to the other side of the road (ignoring the farmers that James is fighting) and takes out the other two archers.

Finally, James kills one farmer and Nikal knocks the other unconscious.  The third leaps onto one of their horses and tries to ride off, but James pegs him with a bow.  The farmer nearly dies in the fall from the horse.

As James drags the farmers and archers together into the middle of the road, Nikal rips off a shirt sleeve to bandage an arrow wound Harley had received.  Harley thanks him despite the obvious expression on his face that he hopes he’s impressing her.  James comments that Nikal is “too sexy for his shirt.”  (Later this insult is reduced merely to “too sexy!  too sexy!” said in a fake snooty French accent.)

Only one of the attackers is dead, and a few are still wavering on consciousness.  A quick interrogation reveals that someone warned them that ‘dark magic’ would be coming into the Haranshire.  Apparently a dark-cloaked figure warned them not to interfere, so of course they did.  When Harley asks why they specifically were told not to interfere, the man replies that several years ago, during a local crisis, he and his friends here formed a lynch mob to stop any strangers coming into the area.  They’ve been wary since, and have noticed strange things going on lately.

James admits defeat.  It must really be the “Lynchwood.”

James also admits a bit of guilt over killing the farmer who only thought he was defending his home, but Nikal tells him not to worry about it, since the farmers were stupid for attacking anyway.  Nikal orders the brigands who are still conscious to make quick sleds to drag the bodies of their companies, which the horses will drag.  Weak from the fight, Harley, Nikal, and James escort their attackers to Milbourne to be turned over to the authorities.  Harley, who’s been lynched once or twice herself, tells the brigands angrily that next time, if they’re more careful and less zealous about their homelands, maybe they won’t end up getting a friend killed.

Despite the difficulties, they manage to reach Milbourne before sunset.  The small town of 200 people sits on the north bank of the Churnett River, so the group fords across a marked area.  A bridge spans half the river, but stops mid-way, and judging by its moldiness and state of repair, it looks more like it was abandoned, rather than that its still being built.

The party causes a stir as it comes into town.  Townsfolk come out of their houses, or away from their conversations to see the Elf, half-Elf, and woman trying to hide that she’s an Elf drag a half-dozen humans into town as prisoners.  A few farmers in the fields they’d passed on the way to Milbourne had apparently run ahead and alerted the town officials, because as soon as they reach the northern shore of the river, they’re greeted by a pair of respectable-looking men.

The first introduces himself as Joseph Carmen, son of the mayor and local constabulary.  He stands a modest 6 feet, with the same dull brown hair as everyone else in the entire Haranshire.  And since everyone in the Haranshire has brown hair, the second man stands out because of his well-groomed, shoulder-length blonde hair.  He introduces himself as Allarliao Half-Elven, local ranger and land-owner.  The half-Elf wears loose traveling clothes, with an elaborately designed black scimitar hanging from his swordbelt.  Harley’s Elven senses tingle, suggesting that at least something Allar is carrying is strongly magical.  It’s obvious that the locals afford Allar a great deal of respect, even though the man looks only to be in his mid-thirties.

Harley explains why they’re in the Haranshire, then asks if Tauster is in town so they can deliver his package.  She also asks if there’s lodging and stabling available for them to stay the night.  She gives a quick recount of the events of the battle, including that they sadly killed one man.  Carmen grimaces, whereas Allar sighs almost cynically.

The half-Elf ranger tells them that Tauster lives in one of the other two towns of the Haranshire, Thurmaster.  It’s another half-day’s travel, but yes, room and board is available at the Baron of Mutton, the local inn.  Allar offers to show them there, while Carmen and some of his deputies drag off the prisoners (for a very stern talking to before being released).

At the Baron of Mutton, they stable their horses and carry their gear (and the chest) up into three separate rooms.  Once done getting settled, they accept Allar’s offer to buy them a nice meal for their troubles.  He thanks them for defending themselves with more restraint than some might have, and says that he owes it to them to make their time in the Haranshire as comfortable as possible.  

A quick getting-to-know-you session occurs.  Allarliao Ursdail is half-Elvish, a former professional adventurer who actually knows Harlan Smith in passing.  About ten years ago he helped defend this area from some magical dangers, and has since made the place his home.  His wife Lacy is a priestess of Meliska, and he and his other former adventuring companions own and operate a small keep to the east.  Allar is one of three rangers in the Haranshire, all of whom work together to make sure the area remains safe.  Without their protection, most of the people would probably move away, since farming is not terribly profitable, mining has always been a failure, and trouble crops up far more often than it should.  At least the Dragon in the Mire doesn’t cause problems anymore.

Before Harley or James can ask more about the Dragon (Harlan didn’t say anything about a Dragon!), a person walks up and leans over, his elbows on the table.  They look up to see a youthful, skinny Elf with red-hair, dressed as (of all things) a Christian priest.  

“Hello there. . . ?” Allar asks, looking for a name of the stranger.

The Elf gives a cocky smile.  “Bhurisrava.  But don’t worry about who I am.  I’m more concerned about who you are.  I couldn’t help overhear that your wife is a priestess of Meliska.  Now I know that can’t be good for her, but what I want to ask you is, ‘Are you with God?’”

The group stares at Bhurisrava in confusion, and Nikal decides then that he wants some sleep.  Bhurisrava takes the Elf’s chair without asking and sits with them at the table.  He continues like a salesman, “Because if you’re not with God, we definitely need to talk about your spiritual place in the world.”

A bit thrown off, Allar explains that he worships in his own way, and that he’d prefer it if Bhurisrava wouldn’t pry.  James, unable to pronounce Bhurisrava’s name, calls him “B-Man.”  Harley adopts usage of the nickname too.  

Bhurisrava explains that he was just pleased to see such a large quantity of Elves in one place, though he suspected that none of them were true followers of God.  He talks briefly about his travels, then asks them about what they’re all up to.  It’s obvious he’s being imposing, but somehow he manages to be silly enough to be entertaining, and thus neither Harley nor James tell B-Man to bug off.

After ordering and paying for a meal for Bhurisrava too, Allar leaves to his own room, since it has gotten rather late.  He tells them that he’ll be willing to go with them to Thurmaster tomorrow so they can see Tauster.

For perhaps an hour more, Bhurisrava, Harley, and James talk, discussing primarily their travels and the relationships among Elves, humans, and religion.  (Out of game terms, I was trying to explain to the new players where they were in the world, and what the rest of the world was like.)

Harley is a Vaneljesti Elf from far to the south.  Her people are typical xenophobes when it comes to interacting with humans, and Harley left because she got along with humans better than with Elves.  Vaneljesti tend to be very good spellcasters, and Harley’s family is famous for their talents, but Harley herself can’t cast any spells.

Bhurisrava is an Innenlesti Elf, from the huge Elvish forest only a few days north of the Haranshire.  Like most Elves, his people follow the traditional Elvish pantheon, but Bhurisrava claims that he received a calling to follow the Lord, and he’s been traveling for about a year now.  Thankfully, for Harley and James’ sake, he doesn’t dwell upon religion too much.

James is half-Elvish, but what type of Elf it is he won’t say.  The white hair and violet eyes don’t particularly match with any major race of Elves, so Harley and Bhur guess that those traits must come from his human side.  Since James won’t even say where he’s from (“Don’t worry about it.  It’s too boring.  I’d fall asleep trying to tell it.”), it’s hard to guess anything about him.

Allarliao was half-Tundanesti Elf.  The Tundanesti are arctic Elves from far to the north, and are renowned for their swordsmanship.  Scimitars are Tundanesti weapons as well, and they decide that Allar probably wasn’t lying about his past.  They decide that it would be a bad idea to get on Allar’s sore side.

The conversation peters off, with Bhurisrava asking if he can travel with them for a while.  As a show of good faith, he heals the injuries Harley had taken in the battle, and Harley immediately tells James to let B-Man come along.  James shrugs.

They all head to their rooms, but when Harley goes to check on Nikal, she finds his room empty, as though he had left.  All his gear is gone too, along with the chest.  Frantically, she tells James, then asks around the inn to find out if anyone had seen him slip out.  Bhurisrava lends his help by following fresh horse tracks out of the stable, heading east.  Toward, among other things, Thurmaster, where Tauster is.  They decide to go after him, but discover that Nikal took all four of the horses.

Amid many mutterings of “Damned Commie,” James listens to Bhurisrava’s plan to break into the local stable and steal three horses.  Harley grins in delight that a Christian priest is advocating theft, but Bhurisrava doesn’t seem fazed by it.  They go through with the plan, sneaking through late-night Milbourne to the local non-inn stable, where they try to explain their dilemma to the stable-keeper, an old man who was up late.  When the old man won’t give them horses, James gags him and ties him up, and they ride off after Nikal.

For the rest of the night they ride, fighting sleepiness until the sun rises.  They keep having to stop regularly to make sure they’re still following Nikal’s horses’ tracks, so they make slow pace, and soon after sunrise they see a lone figure on horseback galloping toward them from the direction they came.  They recognize it as Allar, his scimitar unsheathed as he speeds toward them.

I believe the reaction of Harley’s player was, “Ahhh!  High-level Fighter!  Run!”

Though they follow that advice, Allar seems to be able to push his steed better than they can, and he closes quickly.  He shouts for them to stop and explain themselves unless they want to be injured.  Weighing the options, the trio decide to stop.  

They explain that Nikal has stolen the horses and the chest, and try to make their decision to steal more horses sound reasonable.  Allar’s reaction (“Why didn’t you just tell me?”) makes them chagrined, but the ranger agrees to help them find their runaway companion, assuming they return the horses.  They get back on their steeds, then gallop on, Allar somehow managing to follow Nikal’s tracks even at high speed.  To their surprise, the tracks lead straight to Thurmaster.  They’d assumed Nikal had run off and stolen the chest, but it seems he was simply trying to get there faster.

They catch Nikal just outside Thurmaster, amid the abandoned houses of families that lived there when the area was more prosperous.  Nikal apologizes for running off, but says he had the best intentions.  He didn’t want his ‘friends’ to have to take this trip themselves.  

Harley starts to yell at Nikal, but Allar calms them down, warning them not to make reactions while they’re still uninformed.  That’s the kind of reasoning that leads farmers to attack couriers because they’re supposedly carrying ‘dark magic.’

Harley:  “Yeah, I can’t believe they’d attack us on some stupid rumor like that.”

Allar:  “Like I said, don’t judge while you’re still uninformed.”

They walk through early-morning Thurmaster, a nasty place with muddy ground and offensive smells.  A truly crappy town, home to all of 30 people.  Allar claims he and his friends are working to try to renew the area by bringing in loggers, and he hopes that will aleviate some of the local problems of money.  

Tauster lives in the nicest structure in the town, a crumbling tower (since he thinks that all wizards have to live in a tower) with an adjoining house.  They knock on his door, then listen to someone inside knock things over and mutter loudly before the door opens, revealing a wrinkled, grinning old man dressed in dull green robes.  

James asks business-like, “Are you Toaster?”

Tauster nods, then squints at Harley.  His voice is high-pitched, cracking like a typical old coot.  “Are you Jenny?”

Bhurisrava nudges Harley in the side and winks to her, nodding slowly.  Harley shakes her head and replies apologetically, “Sorry, no.  I’m Harley.  We’re here to deliver your package from Harlan Smith.”

Tauster smiles at that, then nods appreciatively to Allar before letting them in.  He walks around with the aid of a cane, and according to Allar is over 80 years old.  Harley feels immediately sorry for the old man, and tries to help him however possible, in this case by making tea while the others bring the chest in and take a look at it.

Tauster magically unlocks the chest, then riffles through some bags of powder and small boxes of weird animal parts.  Allar helps the man clear out the chest, then raps on the bottom of it, smiling contendedly.  The chest has a secret compartment at its bottom, which Allar was suspecting.  With the aid of the others he manages to figure out how to open the hidden compartment, from which he pulls a heavy, black hide-bound book.  On its cover are silver Dwarvish runes, and Harley again senses powerful magic, now coming from the book.

Allar asks for Tauster to translate, to make sure the book is authentic.  The old wizard reads the Dwarvish words, saying slowly, “The Seventh Spellbook of Darlakanand.”

Harley sighs, realizing what Allar had been insinuating before.  They actually had been bringing dark magic into the Haranshire without even knowing it.  Nervously, Harley looks for exits, just in case Allar turns out to be the same person who had warned the villagers not to interfere.  

Bhurisrava, however, looks at the book in surprise and awe, and he asks what it is.  Allar explains that Darlakanand was a Dwarvish enchanter who was responsible for the troubles in the Haranshire that he and his friends overcame a few years ago.  Since then they’ve been trying to make sure no one else caused similar problems by getting their hands on the wizard’s spellbooks.  He tells them that they’ve probably save a lot of lives by bringing the book safely to him, though he is disturbed that there’s only one book, instead of all of them.

Harley and James remember hearing about what the Dwarves at the magical fair stole, and they get comfortable to tell Allar (and Bhur, Nikal, and Tauster) the story.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

Please take a look at the map of the Haranshire here. It's somewhat important to the next post. You'll have to copy and paste the url, rather than clicking the link. Something funky about geocities.

Haranshire Map

*Chapter Three:  I Call Out Death*

Sitting amid the clutter of Tauster’s laboratory/bed room/living room/kitchen, Harley relates the events of the Magical Fair in Lyceum, with James throwing in the occasional mocking comment (usually mocking the ‘bad guys,’ but sometimes making fun of Harley for trying to run away).  Allar and Bhurisrava listen intently, while Tauster flips errantly through the book hidden in the chest.  

Harley suggests a connection between the Dwarves at the fair and this book.  After being declared the heroes of the hour, Harley and James had learned from the mages of the Lyceian Academy that the Dwarves responsible for the trouble at the fair stole a small collection of books from a merchant.  The books had been intended to be handed over to the wizards, and enchantments on the books kept them from being magically located through scrying.

Allar sighs at this, saying that he and his former adventuring friends had paid the academy a substanial sum for them to deliver the seven Books of Darlakanand.  They had spent months hiring scouts to track down the locations of the books and return them to the Haranshire, where Allar and his friends could destroy the books.  They had not told the wizards to destroy the books immediately upon finding them, because that would have tipped off the Academy as to how dangerous the books were.  Allar doesn’t trust the Academy, and is fairly certain that they would perceive ‘dangerous’ to mean ‘valuable.’

They ask what exactly is so dangerous about the books, and so Allar recounts as quickly as possible his own group’s adventures in the Taranost, the network of caves commonly called the Land Below.  Allar tells them to sit back and get comfortable, because it’s a long story.

Ten years earlier he and his friends were caught in a trap in an ancient Orcish tomb that stranded them in the Taranost, and before making their way back to the surface they discovered the first of many clues that would lead them to the source of a plan to dominate the minds of every creature in the world.  The creatures working toward this goal were the Illithids, bizarre magical creatures with mind-control powers of their own, but nothing as long-range or comprehensive as their plan.  

The Illithids were created as splinter personalities of a psionic Dragon that lived deep in the Land Below.  Her powers were so great that she couldn’t control them, and each night in her dreams she would manifest a new nightmare that would take on the coporeal form of an Illithid.  The Dragon had sequestered herself far from civilization in hopes of keeping these vile nightmares from harming anyone, but she had no power to kill them, and thus for thousands of years the Mind Flayers (as Allar and his group called the Illithids) had tried to reach the surface and conquer it.

Only relatively recently, about a hundred years ago, had the Mind Flayers succeeded in reaching the surface, and they had slowly been developing their plan.  Whenever any surface-dweller learned of the plans, the Mind Flayers wiped their minds or dominated their wills, and in so doing had enlisted a large force to protect and aid them.  The chief surface-dweller in this group was Darlakanand, a Dwarvish wizard who had managed to protect himself from the telepathic domination of the Illithids.  Being forward-sighted, Darlakanand had agreed to work with the Illithids, since he knew that though he might be immune to telepathy, once the Mind Flayers had a large enough force they could kill him by more traditional means.

Darlakanand had devised a magical process that would allow the combined telepathy of all the Illithids and a bit of the Psidragon to manifest across the world, dominating all but the strongest-willed.  All an Illithid would have to do is tell a creature to do something, and it would.  Everything would be their slave.

Harley looks disgusted at this, and even James is put off by the idea.  Bhurisrava seems to be having a hard time comprehending the concept, but even he realizes how bad such a thing would be.  

Allar goes on, telling what he and his friend had to do with it.  They had started as professional adventurers working for a patron, but slowly grew more involved in their own attempts to stop a plot they only had hints of.  It took four years before they fully realized what was going to happen, and after that they had to be exceedingly careful, realizing how dangerous their foes were.  Through luck and caution they were able to finally get one step ahead of the Illithids, find their way to their main city, and stop their plan, killing Darlakanand, the Psidragon, and a copious amount of Illithids in the process.  

In the aftermath, many of the formerly-dominated surface-dwellers fled back to the surface, or into the caves of the Taranost, taking with them the treasure and bounty of the Illithid city.  They heard rumors that among this loot were the eight books of Darlakanand.  They were able to recover one already, which is being kept by one of Allar’s friends, and they were about to retrieve the other seven to make sure no one could attempt the same process, or at least not do so as easily.  Apparently the Dwarves stole six of the remaining seven, which leaves this one book and the one kept by Allar’s associate.  Having heard Harley’s story, Allar’s almost certain that the Dwarves were working for the Illithids.  The presence of a mutated raknid with biomantically-grafted Illithid telepathy suggests that they were at least involved somehow.

Six out of eight of the books in the hands of the Mind Flayers.  Allar doesn’t know how many someone would need to recreate the process.

Tauster chooses this moment to inform them that he’s been magically examining the book this whole time.  Some magic about it protects it from damage while on the surface.  It was penned in the Land of No Sun, and it can only be destroyed there.  

That kills James’ plan, which was to just burn the book now.  Just to be thorough, though, Tauster tries to destroy it with a _burning hands_, and at Bhurisrava’s encouragement Allar even tries slicing his magical scimitar through it.  Afterward it is neither burnt not cut.  It even resists an attempt to blot out the text.  No new ink will be absorbed by its pages.

Frustrated, Allar paces the house for a few minutes.  Meanwhile Bhurisrava, Harley, and James discuss the new information, finally coming to the conclusion that while it sounds bad, they can’t really do anything to help.

At that moment Allar turns back to them and shakes his head.  “No, actually you might be some of the only people who can help.  I need someone to keep watch here for suspicious happenings while I gather the others.  I don’t want to try to destroy this thing until I have my other friends, and I’ll need them to track down whoever the Dwarves were so we can get the other books back.”

(in game terms, I hadn’t planned a sufficient reason for the party to stay around and investigate, so I shot for the tried and true method of hiring them)

Bhurisrava says he really has nothing to do with this.  He was just passing through, and finds it all interesting, but not really worth him getting involved.  James and Harley don’t really want to do it either, because they didn’t like one tiny raknid, so they definitely don’t want to deal with a whole army of mindwalkers.  Nikal, who has been sitting quietly this whole time, yawns and says that he already has an employer.  

And with that they thank Allar for helping them out, thank Tauster for tea (and toast), get Tauster to sign that he did indeed receive the chest, and leave to spend the day sleeping in the town’s shabby inn.

(the DM says to himself, oh crap, what now?)

Allar says to himself, “Oh crap, what now?  Who knows who they’ll tell?”

Since they had been awake for an entire day, and had just arrived in Thurmaster right after dawn, Nikal, Bhurisrava, James, and Harley decide to sleep the day off.  Slightly before noon James wakes Harley and Bhur, saying that he’s pretty sure the weather will turn bad by tonight.  He wants to ditch Nikal just like he did to them, and Harley agrees that it’s fair justice.  Bhurisrava, who had never really talked to Nikal much in the first place, agrees to go along with it since he wants to preach to them the word of the Lord.

Also, they want to leave while Allar still expects them to be asleep.

They take their horses (the ones Harlan gave them and the ones they stole from Milbourne) and get ready to ride out of the Haranshire.  They briefly consider leaving the horses for Nikal to deal with while they go south through the Shreiken Mire, since it would be the faster route to Lyceum, but the innkeeper asks if they’ve heard about Inzeldrin, the green dragon that lives in the marsh.  The party says no, thanks him for saving their lives, and decide to go west, back through Milbourne.  They take the horses with them.

As they travel, stormclouds crawl in from the south, and it looks like by nightfall there’ll be rain.  They pass quickly through Milbourne at dusk, staying just long enough to pick up some of the minor stuff they left in the inn there (I tried to stall them by having the innkeeper say that Allar had told him to confiscate their gear, but they go get the stablemaster and have him tell the innkeeper that they brought back the horses, so the innkeeper finally relents).

Deciding they don’t want to run into Allar by staying another night in Milbourne, they check the map Harley and James have and decide to head for the nearby town of Harlaton, only about another two hour’s travel south.  They get there early in the night, just as it begins to rain.

They discover that the town only has a population of about 30, that the inn doubles as a general store and blacksmith shop, and that there’s no place to stable their horses since no one in town owns a horse.  They already dropped off the ‘stolen’ horses in Milbourne, and had left one of their employer’s horses for Nikal, leaving them with three.  They tether their horses to a tree, and after Bhurisrava apologizes to them for having to leave them out in the rain, they buy a room at the inn.

Still tired since they only got a few hours of sleep in the morning, and have been riding for nearly ten hours, both Harley and James immediately go to sleep.  Bhurisrava stays up for a little while longer and talks to the innkeeper about the local churches, learning that a priest of Meliska operates a temple in Milbourne, that there’s a druid who lives in Thornwood, and that Lord Parlfray’s keep has a small shrine to Ondy Vegces, patron god of knights.  The only prominent Christian in the area is a gnome named David, but he’s been off traveling for a few months.

Bhurisrava retires for a little sleep, as does the innkeeper/shopkeeper/blacksmith.

And they’re all awaked by the hideous sound of horses screaming.

Not knowing how long they’ve been asleep, James, Harley, and Bhurisrava burst out into the torrential rain, weapons ready.  James sprints past their horses, thinking he sees a dark figure scuttling away into the darkness.  Bhurisrava, faster since he’s not armored, runs to the horses, kneeling near the bodies.  They’ve all been killed, their heads looking like they’d been torn open from within.  Long slashes gouge across the horses’ flanks and bodies.  Blood mingles with the roaring rain, staining all of their gear that had been in the saddlebags.  Whatever killed the horses ripped through the bags, scattering the contents across the ground.  

People have come out of their houses to see what’s going on, but in the pouring rain it’s hard to make anything out.  Bhurisrava says a quick prayer for the horses, then stands and runs over to Harley and James.  They’ve stopped in the tall grass behind the inn, looking at faint tracks in the mud, caused by what look like bare feet.  The tracks head off in the direction James saw the dark form scuttle away.  

Harley at first doesn’t want to go, but James reminds her that the person who killed their horses just cost them several hundred gold pieces that they’ll have to pay back to Harlan.  Since he tore through their bags, he seems to be looking for something, which means he might come after them next.  James grabs Harley by the collar and drags her along, saying that it’s safest to deal with the person now while they have him on the run.  Bhurisrava agrees, angered that anyone would so cruelly kill innocent animals.  Through the thunderously loud storm, they follow the tracks toward the woods.

The trail is easy to follow through the mud, but when they reach the woods the going becomes difficult.  The forest is called the Thornwood because nearly every plant in it has spines or thorns, even the trees.  The person they’re pursuing is taking no care to hide his trail, and branches are broken and bits of black cloth torn in an obvious trail heading deeper into the woods.  Over the course of an hour, the rain slowly abates, and their urge to run after their target fades.  The trail heads for higher ground, scaling slick muddy slopes far more easily than any of the group can.  Harley suggests turning back, since they might be being led into a trap, but James calls her a coward and says they’ll keep going for one more mile before they turn back.

Wet and tired, they press on through the drenched forest.  It stops raining, but the clouds hang low and the entire forest is filled with a watery haze.  Finally, just before they’re ready to turn back, they see the trail open into a wide grassy clearing.  James curses, realizing that they must’ve fallen far behind their quarry, and though it was easy tracking him through broken branches that have thorns to snag cloth, it’ll be nearly impossible to follow him through grass.

Harley rants at James for a few minutes while they rest to catch their breath, hoping another storm doesn’t roll in.  Thunder rumbles distantly, and Bhurisrava grumbles about the horse-killer being a coward.  Frustrated, he shouts loudly and angrily into the woods, “I know you’re out there, you bastard.  You think you can kill our horses, huh?  Big ‘death’ man, huh?!  Well I’m calling you OUT!  I’m calling out Death!  Come on you pussy!”

Through the din of the thunder emerges the sound of someone rushing through the forest toward them.  They stand anxiously and ready their weapons, Harley chiding B-man for being loud enough to let everyone know where they were.

From the opposite side of the clearing bursts Nikal, rushing toward them, clutching something to his chest.  Bhurisrava scoffs, disappointed at the lack of Deaths, but the terror in Nikal’s eyes worries them.

Nikal sees them and screams briefly, his voice piercing the night.  He hesitates for a moment, seemingly afraid of the party, but then he shakes his head viciously and shouts for them to run.  He himself begins to run, and James tries to catch him before he sprints past them, but suddenly James, Harley, and Bhur catch sight of a dim glow coming out of the woods from the same direction Nikal came.  Nikal turns and looks, then falls to the ground, clutching his head in pain, dropping before him the thing he’d been carrying.  Aside from Nikal’s pained whimpers, a hush falls over the group.

A dark-clad figure, heavily hooded, emerges from the darkness of the opposite side of the clearing.  It floats through the grass toward them, its thick black robes concealing its stride.  A mist seems to flow behind it, blotting out the forest as a chill fog begins to roll toward them.  It holds a small orb of waxy light that dimly illuminates the clearing.  As it comes within 20 feet, they can see pale purple tentacles writhing from underneath it’s hood.  From its right sleeve extends a similarly pale purple swordblade, looking like its made of flesh and bone.

A stream of words and the emotion of urgency enters their minds, somehow detached from any real voice.

_The book._

The dark figure holds out its hand toward them, either in offering or as a demand.  The ominous blade it holds seems to suggest the latter.

Bhurisrava chuckles weakly.  “Oh crap.  I didn’t think Death would answer.”


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*Chapter Four:  Unreasonable Demands, Part One*

The hooded figure stands before them, its robe drifting eerily in a conjured fog.  Nikal cowers in the grass behind them, covering some object he’d been carrying with his body.  Bhurisrava and James hold their weapons warily, unnerved by the pale mauve tentacles extending from the darkness of the hood.  Harley glances nervously at Nikal, then gets ready to throw Ricochet.  She changes her mind and gets out her dagger.

_The book_, repeats the mental words.  Not a voice, just urgent words streaming through their minds from this dark figure before them.

Bhurisrava cranes his head slightly.  “Um, we don’t know what book you’re talking about.”

The light from the orb in the figure’s hand gains a reddish tinge, and somehow they all know that it is displeased.

_That one has the book._

Harley, James, and Bhur exchange glances, and then Harley bends down and pries something out of Nikal’s frightened grasp.  She looks at it for a moment.  It’s a shoulder-slung bag, so she opens it an peers inside.  Then, sighing, she tosses it at the feet of the intimidating stranger.  

Without even moving, somehow the figure wills the bag to open, and slowly the contents of the bag levitate upward.  Though the feat itself is not very intimidating, it raises the hairs on the backs of their necks, and they feel as though the air is stiflingly humid.

One by one, objects emerge from the bag, all typical traveling gear.  There is no book.  The orb’s light turns a dark red, and suddenly they feel a wind rush past them, as if moving from the intruder to Nikal.  Nikal cries out in pain, screaming in agony, and without hesitating Bhurisrava charges forward and smashes the head of his warhammer onto the cloaked figure’s shoulder.  It sags slightly from the impact, then turns its hooded gaze upon the priest.  Nikal stops screaming and passes out, but Bhurisrava suddenly wants to run very fast.

He calls out for help, and James and Harley run to attack the cloaked figure.  James slashes at it and Harley sprints around it to go for a backstab.  It slashes across her thigh as she runs past, but doesn’t react fast enough to dodge her dagger strike.  Harley’s blade pierces its robes and sinks into flesh.  The creature makes its first audible noise, something like a wet gurgle of pain.  It parries the attacks by James and Bhurisrava, then turns and smashes Harley to the ground with the side of its sword.  Then, before Harley can scramble back to her feet, she feels herself being pulled upward by a force.  The mist around the figure thickens as both Harley and her attacker levitate upward, out of the reach of James and Bhurisrava.

Harley cries out in fear as the force pulls her toward the dark figure.  Hovering 20 feet above the ground, she has nothing to push off of to make her attacks, while the dark warrior seems perfectly comfortable as it draws back its sword to disembowel her.  For a moment she cannot pull her gaze from the tentacles that extend from the shadows of the cloak, but then a shout from below draws her back to her senses.  

James yells for her to get away as both he and Bhurisrava aim their bows upward.  Harley tries to swim through the air to no avail, then shrieks as the bizarre sword slashes toward her.  She curls into a ball and only gets grazed across her back, but the figure floats closer, too close for the others to safely fire at it without hitting her.  

Just as the creatures looms above her, Harley twists in mid-air and kicks her legs out into the thing’s chest.  She shoves away, moving back far enough to give the others room to fire.  She shouts for them to shoot, and then Bhurisrava and James begin to launch arrow after arrow up at it.  Harley sheaths her dagger and pulls out Ricochet, hurling it and missing because of her lack of purchase.

The dark figure hesitates for a moment as arrows tear through its heavy cloak, some sticking and apparently striking flesh.  It floats away a few feet, trying to move to avoid their arrowfire, but over the huge clearing there’s no place to hide.  The only thing constructive it achieves is ending its levitation of Harley.  She gives a cry as she drops twenty feet to the grass below.  She manages to land somewhat softly, but the fall still knocks her unconscious.

James and Bhurisrava continue to fire arrows at their foe, but Bhurisrava stops suddenly when he feels pain wash over him, making his body feel cold and weak.  He drops his bow and falls to the ground, trying to regain control of his body.  James continues to fire arrow after arrow at the creature, and finally it begins to drift slowly downward.  The light globe in its hand disappears, and it pulls something out of its cloak, throwing it at James.  He deflects it with the end of his bow, knocking it away and to the ground with a squishy sound.  Not bothering to divert his attention, he simply stomps on the squishy thing while firing another arrow at the attack.  

Just as the attacker finally lowers itself to the ground, sagging weakly from injury, Bhurisrava regains composure of his limbs.  He stands, picks up his warhammer, runs forward, and delivers a crushing blow to the creature’s head.

James and Bhurisrava congratulate each other, and then the priest runs to heal Harley while James uses his sword to flip off the hood covering the thing’s head.  Despite the deep depression in its cranium from Bhur’s warhammer, it pretty closely fits what they’d expected from Allar’s description of Illithids.  Milky white eyes, slimy pale purple tentacles instead of a mouth, only a little hair on the back of the head, like a balding man.  Prying open the robes is somewhat less messy, an reveals a body naked except for a harness that held a few vials that were shattered when Harley kicked it in the chest.  It’s flesh is an odd mixture of human-like skin and slimy purple patches more like a squid.

Harley, now healed, comes over with Bhurisrava to see what it was they just killed.  They obviously don’t feel bad about what they did, since the creature attacked Nikal first, with the telepathic powers Allar had mentioned.  They just wonder why it was pursuing Nikal for ‘the book’ when Nikal didn’t have any book in the first place.  Bhurisrava expended all his healing powers for the day on Harley, but he’s fairly certain Nikal will recover naturally.  He just looks stunned from whatever he went through.

James checks out the thing he squished, the thing the Illithid had thrown at him.  It looks like a fairly-large squid, about a foot across, with hooks on its four tentacles.  Bhurisrava wonders aloud what it is, and James shrugs.  Then they both turn when they hear Harley cry out in pain.

Harley stands over the body of the Illithid, holding the sword the creature had carried.  The blade of the weapon looks like it is made of flesh and bone, and out of the hilt of the weapon extend narrow black tubes, like veins.  The veins have begun to dig into Harley’s hand and wrist, turning her flesh an ashen mauve as the veins creep through her arm.

Harley screams to get the thing out, nearly passing out again.  James takes the only course of action he knows, rushing forward and hacking into the flesh of the blade with his own sword.  Two quick chops severs the thing just above the hilt, and it releases Harley, the black veins snapping out of her arm.  She lets go of the hilt, then with wide eyes tells them that she could actually feel it when James chopped at the sword, as if the Illithid blade was part of her arm.  Then she looks down at her hand and nearly swoons.  The flesh from the elbow down has turned into a sickly purple, exuding a thin layer of slime.  Bhurisrava pokes at it and announces that it’s squishy, like squid.

They worry for a few minutes to make sure that the affected region isn’t spreading, but apparently the affliction is only as far as the sword-veins extended.  Regardless, Harley and Bhurisrava declare undying hatred of all things Illithid.  Any race that could create things this nasty deserve to die.

James picks up Nikal’s unconscious form, and then they start to head back to Harlaton, maybe to get some sleep before the next morning.  Before they get more than a few feet, though, a deep voice calls from the woods, asking what the hell just happened.  Worried at first that they might have another fight on their hands, they relax when they see just a normal human woodsman.  Admittedly when he comes within 5 feet they’re assaulted by his horrid stench (a mixture of alcohol, urine, and wet dog), but he seems friendly enough.  He introduces himself as Roth VanMuren, and invites them to sleep in his cabin if they’re willing to tell him what the hell just happened.

James shrugs.  “Sounds reasonable.”


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

In a meta-game moment, let me explain as best I can Bhurisrava's calling out of death.  It was basically Chad's (Bhur's player) first time roleplaying, and he hadn't had a chance to fight anything.  I guess maybe he was bored, or frustrated, but for some reason in the middle of their trek through the woods (I'd never expected them to chase after the horse-killer for that long), he started saying that Death was waiting to get them, but he wasn't going to let Death get the jump on them.  He started shouting, "I call out Death!" in a tone of voice that is really unique to Chad.  I wish you could all hear it.

I hadn't planned anything aside from their horse getting killed (I just wanted to give them a reason to stay in the Haranshire), so until Chad started that spiel I was at a loss for what to do.  Then I shrugged and decided, okay.

"Death appears, and he's chasing Nikal."

I don't know why I did either of those (Death or Nikal), but my inspiration often comes from odd places, and in mid-game.  It was at this point that the rest of the game just kinda crystalized.  I winged the battle with the cloaked figure, and when I had to figure out why he was there, everything just fit.  From this point on in the game, I actually knew what I was doing.

Occasionally thereafter, Bhurisrava would call out Death again, just because he felt invincible, or because things were going slow and he expected something to happen _any second_.  It became a handy tool he inadverdently provided to help me realize when the game was lagging, and so I'd usually kick up the pace at those moments, even throwing in a battle that I hadn't planned 'til later.  

Games can be rather fun when the DM isn't fully prepared.


*Chapter Five:  Unreasonable Demands, Part Two*

_Dramatis Personae:_
Hera “Harley” Fyana, 1st level Vaneljesti Elvish bard
James T. Rocket, 1st level half-Elvish fighter
Bhurisrava, 1st level Innenlesti Elvish cleric of Christianity
Nikal (NPC), 4th level Innenlesti Elvish fighter
Allarliao Ursdail (NPC), 12th/4th level half-Tundanesti Elvish alt. ranger/fighter
Roth VanMuren, 1st level human barbarian

The man introduced himself as Roth VanMuren, a traveler who found an old house in these woods and has been squatting there for about a year now.  He’s wretchedly filthy, smelling almost as bad as a latrine (more accurately, a combination of urine, alcohol, and wet dog).  His black hair is dirty and clumpy, down to his shoulders, and the dirt on his face makes his green eyes rather startling.  He wears chainmail over a loincloth, and nothing else.  He wouldn’t even wear the loincloth except that he needs it to keep the chainmail from chafing.  

He’s rather interested at the squishy man Harley, James, and Bhurisrava had just killed, but he would rather talk about it in his house than out in the woods.  He warns that there are some Goblins about, so its safer inside.  

Bhurisrava helps Harley wrap her squishy hand in a moist cloth since her hand started to itch as it got dry.  Meanwhile, James picks Nikal’s unconscious form off the ground and carries him across his shoulders.  They leave the Illithid body in the grass, including all the various squishy things it had on it.  It has no possessions aside from its cloak, some shattered potion vials, and two more tentacled things like the one it threw at James.  Just to be safe, Bhurisrava smashes the tentacle sword a couple times with his warhammer, and then they set off toward Roth’s hut.

The trip is fairly short, only about ten minutes, and during their walk Roth tells them that he’s from Kequalak, traveling around because he doesn’t like people very much.  Not large groups of them, at least.  When they near his hut they can hear the barking of a large dog, which Roth says wasn’t actually his.  He just sorta found the dog there when he squatted on the property, and the dog has kept hanging around.  That at least explains the ‘wet dog’ aspect of Roth’s aroma.  The alcohol smell seems fairly apparent as well, since Roth has a small keg of ale on a tree stump in front of the plain log and mudbrick house.

As for the scent of urine, James starts to lay Nikal down on a bed of sheets in Roth’s house, but the smelly man warns him to stop.  That pile of sheets is his piss pile, where he urinates at night when he’s too lazy to go outside in the cold.

“Lovely,” Harley remarks to her friends, and she and the others take care where they’re walking.  

Actually, the rest of Roth’s little house is fairly clean, and there are actually two spare rooms with beds that must’ve belonged to the previous owner.  Harley and Bhurisrava are nervous, but Roth gives no hint that the previous owner might have died of foul play.  Instead, Roth offers them ale and some dried meat, and listens as they explain what they know.  During the conversation, curiosity gets the better of James and he pries through Roth’s piss pile with the tip of his sword, discovering a small cache of gold coins and a soiled loincloth.  James, though eager for money, decides . . . um, it’s best not to, um . . . take a fellow warrior’s treasure.  Right.  He returns to the story and tries to shake off the disturbing knowledge by making jokes about Harley’s screaming when the stalker attacked her.

For the rest of the night they take turns watching Nikal (as an excuse to make sure Roth doesn’t attack them while they’re asleep), but even the noise of renewed thunderstorms wake the tormented Elf.

The next morning, however, sunlight seems to do the trick.  While Bhurisrava is finishing his morning prayers, Nikal awakens with a start, then relaxes when he realizes he’s safe.  Complaining about a painful headache, he tells them what happened the night before.  He was traveling to Milbourne on horseback with Tauster’s apprentice, a young lady named Jenneleth.  They rode even through the rain, Nikal hoping to catch up with them before they left the Haranshire, and Jenneleth returning from Tauster’s with some potions the local militia had requested so they could better defend against a group of Orcs to the north.  They were both trying to travel swiftly, both on horses, when Jenneleth’s mount fainted and dropped her to the ground, breaking her leg.  

Nikal looked around and saw the dark figure approaching, calling into his mind for the book.  He at first tried to fight off the cloaked warrior, but something forced him to drop his weapon.  He only barely had the willpower to force himself to run so the stalker wouldn’t cut him down.  Since he didn’t have the book, could not fight the creature, and needed to draw the attacker’s attention away from the wounded Jenneleth, he tried to ride off on his own horses, shouting to the figure that it would never get the book.  He had barely gone a few dozen feet when his own horse started to waver and fall, so he leapt out of the saddle, grabbed a carrying bag, and bolted into the woods.  He ended up running/staggering for over an hour, occasionally seeing mental illusions conjured by the stalking figure.  He’d heard Bhurisrava’s voice shouting, and so he ran in that direction, and that was the last he really remembered.

Harley, James, and Bhur explain what happened after that, and then they decide as a group that they need to first report to Allar.  Harley wants to make sure Jenneleth is safe, and she convinces them to go check on the young apprentice first.  In order to reach Thurmaster (where they assume Allar is), they need to get out of the Thornwood, and the fastest route out will pretty much run into Jenneleth’s path.  Harley cinches the deal by saying that in case Allar went back to Milbourne, if they tell Jenneleth they’ll be at Thurmaster it’ll be easier for the ranger to find them.

Roth, amazed by these odd goings on, offers to help.  They set out as soon as Nikal gets back on his feet (but they leave the dog behind), and then the smelly Roth guides them down a well-traveled path that is relatively free of the brambly foliage of the Thornwood, and when they reach the Churnette River that marks the forest boundaries, he shows them where best to ford.  

Harley notices with relief that the squishy patch hasn’t spread, but she has to change her wet wrap every few hours to keep the flesh from getting sore.  She hopes that either Tauster or Jenneleth might be able to provide some type of cure, because the squishiness has horribly impaired her manual dexterity.  She can barely even manage to palm daggers or spin Ricochet on the tips of her fingers anymore [meta: the affliction gave her a –8 penalty to manual Dexterity, which still left her with a Dex of 12, plus an impressive perform skill].

They ford through the river, Roth stopping for a brief moment to ‘bathe’ before he comes out on the other side.  They quickly spot the tracks of two horses heading west toward Milbourne.  Roth looks around for other tracks but doesn’t see anything.  He can tell that the horses were traveling fast, and that the tracks were made last night while it was still raining, so they guess that Jenneleth must have managed to get away.  Just to be safe, Nikal heads west to Milbourne while the rest of them travel east to Thurmaster.

A little before sunset they reach Thurmaster, walking through its main thoroughfare which is even muddier than the day before.  Roth, complaining about how hot the sun was today, asks if any of them have a bucket so he can gather some ‘sunblock.’  Harley laughs to keep from being too terribly disturbed, while Bhurisrava apologizes for not being able to help him.  James just strides to Tauster’s house and knocks heavily on the door.  A few moments later, Tauster opens the door and lets them in.

To their barrage of questions, Tauster says that the book is still safe, but no, he doesn’t know where Allar is.  The old man again calls Harley ‘Jenny,’ apparently confusing her with his apprentice Jenneleth.  Bhurisrava finally convinces Harley to play along with the old man’s ramblings to make him happy, so Harley pretends to be Jenneleth, saying that yes, she did deliver the potions to Milbourne, but along the way she had some trouble, and her hand got damaged.  Taking pity on his poor apprentice Jenny, Tauster looks at Harley’s arm, takes a few samples by scraping off dead skin, then says to give him a few hours so he can make an antidotal oil.  In the meanwhile, he asks the group of them to get comfortable.  He even casts a cooling spell to make the room’s temperature more bearable.

They ask where Allar might be, and Tauster shrugs, thinking he might have gone to his keep that’s a few miles away to the north.  Earlier in the morning a man arrived and talked to Allar for a few minutes, and then they both left.  Tauster doesn’t recall who the man was, but he knows he’s seen him before.  

Fairly tired from traveling and not wanting to miss Allar if he happens to return, they rest at Tauster’s place.  Roth volunteers to clean the man’s gutters, even though there aren’t any trees near his house that could drop leaves to clog the gutters.  Nevertheless, grime has accumulated over decades, and so Roth climbs on the roof and begins scraping the grime away with a dagger.  James notices with displeasure that Roth treats all of his equipment very poorly.  Even the man’s bastard sword looks dented and chipped in places, and most of his chainmail is rusted.  

Just as the sun is setting, while Roth is finishing up his house chores, he sees a sexy young woman walking out of the swamp from the south.  She’s gorgeous, with long black hair and vivid jade eyes, and her figure is impressively displayed by tightly-fitting black and green leather patterned like small scales.  He calls out to her as she nears Tauster’s home, asking her name and if she’s there to see Allar.  A few moment’s later, Roth opens the door to the house and calls in to them, “There’s a hot babe here named Inzeldrin, and she’s uh, lookin’ for Allar.”

The name seems familiar to the party, but they just shrug and ask Tauster if they should let her in.  Tauster says he’s too busy, and tells ‘Jenny’ to handle it.  

Harley goes to the door with the others backing her.  She sees the ‘hot babe’ standing a few feet behind Roth, and notices that people are looking at them from the porches of all the nearby houses and stores, their expressions a mixture of worry and curiosity.  Nervously Harley asks how she can help the lady.

“Tell me where Allar is.  He failed to fulfill our agreement this month, and though I don’t particularly need the cattle, I won’t tolerate this slight.”

Harley looks to James and Bhurisrava, then to Roth, but all of them shrug.  Harley turns back to Inzeldrin, putting on the pleasing face she’s developed in her years as a performer who has had to deal with abrasive fans.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where Allar is.  We’re waiting for him too.  The wizard of the house, Tauster, says-”

“I know his name,” Inzeldrin interrupts.

Harley nods apologetically, gritting her teeth.  “Yes, well he thinks Allar should be getting back from his keep later this evening.”

“You work for him?  Good, come with me.  All of you.”

Nervously, Harley edges forward, and the others get closer out of curiosity.  Bhurisrava’s eyes widen when he gets a good look at the woman, and his mouth opens slightly.  Before anyone has a chance to say anything, the world seems to shift around them, brightening in a flash, then snapping back to normal.  Their surroundings have changed, and they are no longer in Thurmaster, but standing in a farmed field a few dozen feet away from a medium-sized stone fort.  A few small houses are visible in the distance, but the area is fairly dark except for the keep’s torches.

They overhear a shout from the battlements:  “Oh ****!  It’s the Dragon again, and she’s got somebody with her.”

Then they remember who Inzeldrin is.  The Mistress of the Shrieken Mire, a several hundred years old green Dragon, now disguised as a ‘hot babe,’ and apparently angry at Allar for something.

A quick discussion goes on between Inzeldrin and the guards atop the battlements.  They claim that Allar hasn’t been to the fort for several days now, and that none of his associates are even in the Haranshire.  His wife’s north in Tundanesti, the Minotaur went off on a quest a few years ago in Kequalak, and the Gnomish wizard is supposedly at some sorcerers’ convention in Tennas.  Inzeldrin is angry and threatens to kill them all if she finds out they’re lying, a threat which the guards blanche at nervously, but seem to take in stride.  Inzeldrin growls softly, then tells them to send Allar or anyone else who shows up to meet with her.  

With that, the Dragon lady looks at the party, sneers that they were no use, then turns to face back to Thurmaster.  James tries to grab her before she leaves, planning to show her who exactly is useless, but the tiny woman simply shoves James with one hand, sending him fifteen feet through the air and nearly knocking him unconscious.  While everyone runs to tend to James, Inzeldrin teleports away.

A few of the keep guards come out, one of them offering a bit of healing magic.  They inform them that a few years back, Allar, David, and the others made an agreement with Inzeldrin.  The old Dragon had been looking for a mate, and was eager to gain new territory in preparation of having children, so to sate her appetite they had agreed to provide her a monthly tribute of one cow or three pigs, in exchange for her agreement not to raze the local villagers, and to occasionally help drive off other dangerous creatures that might come through the area, like giants and other Dragons.  The guards know that a cow was put out this month, so they bet that Inzeldrin is just trying to reneg on the deal and find an excuse to expand her territory without provoking the ire of Allar and his friends.  The guards speak quite respectfully of Allar, and claim that if Inzeldrin ever made trouble, the ranger would almost be able to take her on by himself.  

They point the party back in the direction of Thurmaster, and the four of them start walking again, reaching the small town in a a little over two hours.  Groaning from the effort, they first check on the progress of Tauster’s cure for the squishiness.  Much to Harley’s dismay, Tauster says it’ll be done in a few more hours.  Sighing, James escorts Harley to the river to find some water to keep her hand moist, while Bhur and Roth make dinner for the old wizard.

At the river, Harley wonders to James what they’re going to do and why someone is after them.  She thanks James for helping save her life the night before by cutting off the sword, and says that he’s the first real friend she’s had for several years.  James smiles and shrugs, telling her not to worry about it.  He’d gladly hack at any of his friends if it’d help save their lives.  Harley laughs and relaxes.

Meanwhile, in Tauster’s small shanty, Roth is mixing together some dough and spices for biscuits, while Bhurisrava tries to help Tauster find some spell components in his ‘tower.’  (Tauster had a small, two story round building attached to the side of his shanty house, because he firmly believes that every wizard should have a tower).  A knock comes at the door, and Roth puts down the mixing bowl to answer it.

At the river’s edge, a few hundred feet from Tauster’s house, Harley notices light spill out of Tauster’s door as its opened.  Her hand sufficiently re-wetted, she turns to see what’s going on.

Roth looks blankly at the people waiting on the other side of the door.  There are a half-dozen stout men poorly attempting to hide swords behind their backs, plus a balding man with red hair and a scar across his nose, and an athletic man with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a scimitar at his hip.  Remembering the description, Roth smiles.  “Oh, you must be Allar.”

Allar smiles, then draws his scimitar, the metal glinting brightly.  “Right, and if you don’t make any trouble and hand over the book, we won’t kill you.”

Roth blinks in surprise, and then shouts a warning as the red-haired man begins to chant a spell.  Allar tries to slam Roth against the wall, but Roth doesn’t budge.  But then the red-haired man’s spell takes hold, and Roth feels his limbs lock up, leaving him unable to move.  Allar shoves again and knocks the smelly man over easily, and the small force rushes inside, looking for the book.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*Chapter Six:  Misleading Trails*

At the sound of Roth’s cry for help, Bhurisrava and Tauster rush into the entry room, and Bhur gasps as Allar leads an attack of a half dozen warriors into the small space.  Tauster tries to cast a spell, but the warriors smash him into the wall and disrupt his casting, nearly knocking the old man out in the process.  Bhur grabs a dough-kneading rolling pin and tries to fend off the attackers, calling for help, but in mere seconds he is bludgeoned into near unconsciousness.  He feigns being knocked out and watches as the men pillage through the room.

Outside, Harley and James hear the commotion and run for Tauster’s home, Harley shouting for help.  James goes in swinging, going for the red-haired balding spellcaster who’s standing near the door.  The man ducks James’ attack, then sidesteps and kicks James in the back of his knee, sprawling him to the ground.  Harley throws a dagger at him, and the blade grazes his arm, but the spellcaster is barely fazed.  He shouts to the others to hurry up, then jumps over James and lashes out at Harley with his hands.  

Harley manages to dodge his blows, but since she’s already thrown her dagger, and Ricochet isn’t meant for close combat, she begins to scramble away.  Desperately she throws Ricochet into the house, and it narrowly misses James as the man stands back up.  The whirling disk cracks into the back of the head of one of the warriors, stunning him.  

[meta:  Jessie was amazed to finally hit something with Ricochet!]

James slashes into the unarmed spellcaster’s back, but the man stumbles forward fast enough that he’s only grazed.  Caught between the two foes, he calls for help from the warriors, then begins to cast a spell.  Harley tries to kick him in the face to stop him, and James cuts the man across his arm, but he finishes his spell undaunted, and four small flaming bolts fly from his hands, two to strike Harley, two to strike James.  James curses and tries to attack the wizard again, but one of the warriors in the house slashes open the flesh on the back of James’s head, and the warrior falls to the ground.  

Harley, unarmed, calls for help again, and is relieved to see that a few people are running forward with spear and pitchforks.  A call comes from inside the house shouting, “I got it!” and then the red-haired man orders for them to retreat.  Harley stays back, knowing she can’t stop all of them on her own.  Then she staggers back in shock as Allar leaves the house, carrying the Book of Darlakanand in his arms.  The half-Elf ranger seems to ignore her, and the group runs off into the night, heading south toward the swamp.

Harley rushes to James’s aid, trying to staunch the flow of blood out the back of his skull.  Bhurisrava scrambles forward and heals the wound enough to save James’s life, and then runs back into the house to check on Tauster and Roth.  The villagers who come around offer to help however they can, and Harley has a spark of inspiration enough to tell them not to follow the attackers yet.  They don’t need to spoil whatever tracks they left in the mud.

Tauster is safe, but bruised.  Roth is unharmed, since he was held the entire time and not a threat.  James is stable enough to mutter about how he hates wizards (quietly enough so Tauster can’t hear), and Bhurisrava is wounded but holding together.  He managed to trip one of the warriors as the man ran out of the house, and then rendered him unconscious with a wound-inflicting spell.  They stabilize their prisoner, then ask around to find out if anyone knows where the book thieves might have gone, who any of them were, etc.  People say that it’s odd to see either a blonde-haired or a red-haired individual in the area, and the local innkeeper says that he thinks he recalls seeing some of the brown-haired warriors buying drinks a few days earlier.  He doesn’t think they were locals.  

Since none of the villagers mention seeing Allar, Harley, Roth, and Bhurisrava only tell Tauster and James.  Tauster doesn’t think Allar had anything to do with it, that it must’ve been a trick, but James is pissed enough to blame whoever he can.  

They hit the sack, Roth agreeing to stand watch since he was spared being beaten up.  He seems to want a chance at revenge, as though he hopes the thieves return.  Harley and Bhur are fairly certain they won’t come back, though, since they got the book they came for.

***

The next morning, Harley awakens to Tauster calling her Jenny again.  He says that he finished the cure in the middle of the night, which is good because Harley’s hand is on fire.  She forgot to have a spare wet cloth handy, and now she can barely stand the burning.  The sound of Tauster getting the antidote ready awakens the others, including Roth, who is quick to pretend that he wasn’t asleep on watch.  His first words of the day are to ask for something to drink.

Tauster has concocted some type of oil that he rubs over Harley’s hand and arm.  It’s cold and sticky like mud, and once it fully coats the affected area, Tauster casts a spell on it, then sets it on fire with an incense stick.  The oil burns away quickly and painfully, but it reveals Harley’s normal arm, back to normal flesh, if mildly burnt red.  Harley smiles in thanks and hugs the old man with one arm, then politely asks if Bhurisrava could heal her and James a little more.  Bhurisrava nods and begins to pray for his spells, while Roth goes about cooking.

After finishing a surprisingly tasty, if alcohol tinged breakfast from Roth, they’re about to leave when a knock comes at the door, followed by Allar’s voice saying, “It’s me!  I heard what happened last night!  Are you alright?”

Tauster chides them for getting their weapons ready, and before they can sufficiently prepare their defense, Tauster shouts, “The door’s unlocked.  It’s all fine.”

Allar opens the door, and James thrusts a sword at his face.  Allar leaps back half a step, draws his black scimitar, and parries a second blow.  He manages to fend off James’s frustrated advances long enough to get the story out of Tauster.  The breaks off as Allar claims that it had to be a disguise or an illusion.  Last night he was at the small keep of Lord Parlfray, not far from his own keep, and he says he has an alibi.  They party is willing to listen, since Roth points out that the Allar he saw last night (and he had a lot of time to look since he was sprawled on the ground) had a plain old bland scimitar.  Allar actually carries two, though he only seems to use the black one.  

As soon as he’s convinced them that he didn’t try to take them the night before, he tells them all to come with him.  They have to track down the thieves before they get the book to whoever hired them.  Allar’s just about ready to run after them, but only Roth seems eager to go with him.

Allar complains that they’re losing valuable time, but James won’t budge to go after people who so far have just been trying to kill them.  Allar, frustrated, offers to pay them a hundred gold pieces each to help him, since he needs them to identify who the thieves were.  He also says that whoever wants the book probably doesn’t want anyone to know about it, so their lives are in danger.  It’s in their best interest to help him.

Tauster offers to Allar that he could just _charm_ the group and make them go along, but Allar sighs and shakes his head, saying, “No.  We had enough of that when the Illithids were around.”

The offer of payment and Allar and Tauster’s agreement to help protect them is enough to convince them to go along for now, and they set off.  Tauster stays behind, because he never was the adventuring type.  (He’s a 9th level wizard, but he’s over 70 and has done very little adventuring.  With a 3 Constitution and 9 hit points, he’s not quite well suited to go out fighting anymore).

Allar follows the fairly obvious tracks with the others keeping up as well as they can, since Allar practically runs as he watches the tracks.  Something strikes the party that it must be Really Bad to have lost the book, considering that Allar is ready to leave at a moment’s notice to go sprinting through a marsh after a large group of armed men and a wizard.  Bhurisrava grumbles that he thinks Allar might still be trying to trick them and throw them off his trail, but Roth trusts Allar.

The tracks lead to a bank of the river about two miles south of the town of Thurmaster.  They find markings that a small boat had been left on the bank as a getaway vehicle, and so Allar leaps into the water and swims across, ready to assist anyone who needs help.  The river is too deep to walk, but only about fifty feet across, so they make it across easily.  On the other bank they find a wooden rowboat hidden in some brush a few feet into the treeline, and despite Bhurisrava and James grumbling about having to rush through the woods so quickly, Allar leads them on, into the Thornwood.

[The Thornwood is a large forest that stretches between Milbourne and Thurmaster, and goes fairly far to the south of both.  It’s borders are effectively carved by the Churnette river and a few rough hills where farming and mining has cut back the original woodlands.  All you really need to know is that they’re going into the woods, and that it’s a huge place filled with all manner of thorny plantlife.]

The trail is harder to follow once out of the marshy ground and into grassy forest.  The tracks lead to a game trail, which, after about an hour, opens into a wide grassy clearing.  Allar and Roth both try to follow the tracks, but the trail simply disappears.  Suspecting that the thief wizard had something to do with it, Allar mutters and takes his bearings.  The trail is lost, so they sit and rest for a while, Allar asking them about everything that has happened so far.

They tell him about ‘Death’ attacking them, what Death looked like when they finally beat it, and then their trip back to Tausters.  Allar asks for a closer description of the Illithid, and is disturbed by the mention of it having hair and discolored blotches of normal flesh and ‘mind flayer’-ish flesh.  Normal Illithids don’t have hair, and are a fairly uniform color.  He assumes that it must have been related to the Illithids in some way, but how he is unsure.  He tells them plainly that a single Illithid should have been able to, if not kill all of them, at least escape easily if endangered.  This frustrates Bhurisrava even more.  He already doesn’t like or trust Allar, and saying that he doesn’t believe what they accomplished is insulting.

Harley continues to tell what happened, going into the squishiness of her hand, the arrival of Inzeldrin, and the subsequent argument she had with the men in his keep.  Allar is disturbed by the problem with Inzeldrin, but it’s more of the “oh, what else could go wrong today” type of worry, rather than the “we’re screwed” emotions he’s displaying whenever the topic of the book theft comes up.

Harley asks to be reminded just how bad the Book of Darlakanand is, and Allar tells her that if someone had all the books, they might be able to recreate what the Illithids tried to do a few years ago, namely to create a magical effect that would weaken the minds of every creature on the planet so that the Mind Flayers could control almost anyone.  Allar’s not sure exactly what the process is that would do this, though a few of his companions were more experienced in the magical aspects of the Illithids.  

Since it’s still early morning, Allar decides to set off and scout out nearby locations that might be valid hiding spots for people in these woods.  His list is:

* An abandoned church with a broken spire and a small village of abandoned buildings, a few hours to the northwest.  It was built hundreds of years ago when the area was more prosperous due to mining, but people left when the mines stopped being rich.  The small town was swallowed up by the woods, but occasionally Goblin tribes or bandits hide out in the place.
* A small network of caves chewed into the side of a huge cliff called Featherfall (because the layers of rocks on it look like feathers).  Goblins usually live in the caves there, but it is a plausible hiding spot.
* A house that’s a few years old whose previous owner built it in the woods for privacy, then left out of loneliness.  The cruel bastard who lived there left his dog behind and hasn’t returned for years.  Roth chimes in and says that they know that the house is clear.
* The grove of a local shaman named Oleane, once a young girl who played in the woods too often and grew to prefer the trees to people.  She’s now grown up but still anti-social.  She’s closely bonded with the local forest, and has occasionally provided information to Allar before.  

[At the mention of Oleane’s name, Nic, James’s player, begins to laugh.  He finds her name incredibly funny.  If you recall, about two years ago there were complaints that the ‘fake-fat’ oil O-lean caused diarrhea and anal leakage.  Since Nic couldn’t take her seriously, he’d call her ‘anal leakage girl’ whenever she was mentioned.  I’d had a druid named Oleane in the woods for years before the fatless oil came out, and I hadn’t expected my players’ abilities to mock and deride simple names.  So far we have Nikal as “Nikhail the Commie,” Tauster as “Toaster,” and Oleane as “anal leakage girl.”  I love Nic oh so much.]

They decide to head for the abandoned church first, since it’s closest and because bandits have worked out of there before.  They start walking again, travel for several hours, then spot a neglected low stone wall that marks where the small town used to stand.  Beyond the wall are three buildings—a church and two houses—plus the collapsed rubble of several others.  They take a few minutes to prepare themselves, and then Allar gives orders to scout the small town.  Keeping hidden in the brush and trees, they sneak as quietly as possible around the perimeter.  There’s definite signs of people being here, since a fresh foot trail has been torn through the grass to lead to the main door of the church.  Allar quickly sneaks into and out of the two other houses, but shakes his head that no one is in there.  They back away to a safe range to talk, and Allar says that the two houses look occupied, but no one’s in there now.  By the looks of it, the place is only home to Goblins, but they might have information.  

Allar and James work out a battle plan of how to deal with the Goblins in case negotiations go sour, and then they take their places as Allar and Harley walk to the front entrance to parley.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*Chapter Seven: Church Goblins*

[meta] Just before this session, the party leveled up, all of them reaching 2nd level.  In 2e terms, they were Bhur (cleric 2), James (fighter 2), Roth (fighter 2), and Harley (thief 2), but in 3e terms it’d be more like Roth (barbarian 2) and Harley (bard 1/rogue 1).  Oh, and Allar’s a ranger 12/fighter 4. [/meta]

The old church is fairly bland, just a 40 x 60 building, 20 feet tall, with a small foyer and a now-dilapidated arching roof which has a broken spire at its top.  James and Bhurisrava creep up to the windows of the old church, staying low, ready with their bows ready to fire through the windows.  Roth stays just outside the main door, bastard sword in hand in case of trouble.  Allar leads Harley up to the front door, and the woman looks around nervously while Allar pounds at the door with the pommel of his black scimitar.

When no one answers at first, Harley whispers a question to Allar about the sword, curious about where such an odd-looking blade came from.  Allar hushes her with a finger to his lips, then whispers in reply that he’ll tell her when they’re done.

“Geeba!” comes a shout from the inside of the church door.  A string of gibbering follows, all of which means nothing to the PCs.  Allar clears his throat and replies in another string of gibbering, going slowly and in a voice much deeper than the original speaker’s.

A moment passes, and then the door to the Church opens slowly, scraping across the ground because of the lack of one hinge.  From behind it emerge a pair of three-foot tall humanoids with darkly tanned skins that look almost green.  Both have scruffly black hair and are armed with wooden spears.  Allar and the Goblins exchange a quick conversation, and then the Goblins sneer and nod, waving them in.  Allar explains that the Goblins have heard about some ‘nasty pale big folk’ in their woods, and they’re going to bring their leader to share the information.  Though Allar expects an ambush, the Goblins refuse to force their leader to go outside, so he and Harley have to go inside.  Allar makes sure to speak loud enough when he tells Harley that James, Bhur, and Roth can overhear.

The entrance foyer is only 20 feet long, and then the hall opens into a tall open church, illuminated through shattered windows and holes in the ceiling.  A door behind a graffitied altar probably leads to the old priestly quarters, and side rooms were perhaps for visitors.  True to Goblin form, Harley and Allar are inside for less than thirty seconds before another Goblin hiding behind the front door slams it shut.  With a battle cry, “GEEBA!”, the two Goblins leap to attack the intruders.  More Goblins pop up from behind rubble, others burst from the side rooms, and a small horde appear on a clumsily-built balcony near the roof.  Aside from normal men warriors with weapons, women and even small children start throwing rocks and sticks at the pale big folk as the Goblins begin to rush toward them.

Harley panicks at first, about to try to run out through the front door, but a half-dozen Goblins block her path.  She hurls Ricochet into the crowd, hitting easily because of how clumped the green-skinned critters are, and then draws her dagger in self defense.  Her cries for help are easily answered, as James and Bhurisrava appear at windows on the opposite sides of the building and begin firing in.  They step to the window, fire, then step to the side, confusing the Goblins at first as to where the shots are coming from.  The front door crashes in, breaking its one remaining hinge and falling down upon the Goblin who tried to slam it shut.  Roaring angrily, Roth bursts into the church, wading into the Goblins with his impressive hit point total.

Allar draws his second scimitar and tells Harley to stay close, then does a stunning job of picking off any Goblins who try to hit her.  He deflects spear thrusts, cuts down some warriors with clubs, and with his lightning reflexes manages to mostly dodge even the hail of thrown rocks from overhead.  In less than a minute of intense fighting, the Goblins realize they shouldn’t go near the man with two swords.  That realization comes too late for the 30 dead or dying Goblins in the middle of the church floor.  Most have died from slashes to their face or chest, but some were crushed to a pulp by a bashing bastard sword, while others have arrows sticking out of their backs.  A few are just dazed, having been struck by Bhurisrava’s blunt arrows.  As the melee continues, Harley waits for an opening, then tumbles through the crowd of remaining Goblins, snatching up Ricochet along with a fistful of daggers.  

Some of the Goblins begin to flee for the exit at the back of the room, but Roth pulls forth a pre-prepared bottle of ale with a cloth in it.  Lighting it with a magical item he found long ago (a cigarette lighter), he tosses the molotov cocktail into the exit before many Goblins can flee down it.  James and Bhur begin taking potshots at Goblins in the rafters, as does Harley, using daggers recovered from the Goblins to keep the rock-throwers ducking so they stop flinging things at her.  

Allar takes a more direct approach, dropping his spare scimitar and making a running leap, catching a low rafter in one hand and pulling himself up onto the balcony.  As he charges through the cowering Goblins, most leap away, preferring to fall to the floor instead of risking being cut down.  Harley and Roth let the panicked Goblins—most of them women or children—flee out the front door.  James and Bhurisrava rush into the church to beat the remaining Goblins into unconsciousness, not eager to kill, but not wanting to let the bloodthirsty ambushers get away with their deeds.

Swinging down from the rafters after clearing them of Goblins, Allar checks on everyone.  Harley, having been in the center of the huge melee, is barely able to stand.  Only the desperate defense provided by Allar kept her from being swarmed to death by a dozen or more Goblins.  Roth is bloody and fairly cut up, but he shrugs off Bhurisrava’s offer of healing, instead taking out a flask of ale and downing it.  James and Bhur are completely unharmed because they kept a barrier between themselves and the Goblins.  Allar himself has his fair share of cuts and bruises, but he seems to have avoided anything major.

As Bhurisrava heals Harley, James and Allar put out the fire from Roth’s molotov cocktail, and Roth searches the church side rooms for Goblin treasure.  He ends up finding a handful more of Goblins, and after laughing at them and warning them never to try attacking them again, he shoos them out of the church.  By this point probably a good thirty Goblins have fled the Church in panic.  After he heals Harley, Bhurisrava tries to bandage the wounds of those Goblins not yet quite dead, but there are more dead than wounded.

Roth manages to find a masterfully built crossbow in an old, locked treasure chest.  When the rest of the party rushes to investigate the smashing sound, Roth calms their fears by holding up the new weapon.  Bhurisrava checks it, feeling a magical aura around it.  Roth, pleased to have found a magical weapon, gives it to Harley, saying that she needs more weapons.

[meta] And yes, I admit, I did tell Harley’s player she could only carry one dagger.  My bad.  At least now she had a _+1 light crossbow_ with a sheaf of 13 _+1 bolts_. Of course in 2e you had to take proficiency in crossbow, which Harley didn't have, so she couldn't use it.  Ugh, how glad I am for 3e.[/meta]

At James’ insistence, they press on and try to make sure the rest of the Church (it has a basement) is clear before bothering to bury the bodies of the dead.  They delve into the basement, Allar leading the way because his black scimitar can shed pale light.  Roth, with the keenest ears, stays at the back to make sure none of the Goblins try to come at them from behind.

The basement itself is cramped, consisting of a six-foot high tunnel that has side rooms of food stores, abandoned beds, a small armory, and a library-turned-latrine.  All the rooms are empty, but at the end of the corridor is a heavy locked door that looks very sturdy.  After checking to make sure it’s not rigged, Harley nimbly tries to pick the lock, commenting that she had spent time with a lot of talented people in her travels in the past few years, one of whom showed her the basics of lockpicking.

She unlocks the door, then steps back to let James and Allar head in first.  Harley notices that Bhurisrava is almost constantly watching Allar, as though the priest doesn’t trust him.

Inside the door they find a long room filled with two rows of stone sarcophogi.  Allar, used to this sort of thing, asks Bhurisrava to check and see if he can feel any undead, but the priest cannot.

[meta] I was trying to have an experienced adventurer like Allar show them the ropes on how it’s done, so eventually they’d be able to do it all on their own. [/meta]

They walk into the room warily, expecting something to jump out of or out from behind a sarcophogus at any moment.  And at the end of the room they do indeed find the leader of the Goblin tribe cowering with two of his warriors, hiding behind one sarcophogus.  They discover that the leader speaks Lyceian, and so the party interrogates him, learning from him that he hasn’t actually met with the new people living in the woods, but some of his scouts have been seeing them traveling through the woods now for a couple days.  Also a few of his scouts were killed a couple days ago by an odd black creature that ran through the treetops, climbing them as easily as a spider climbs its web.  They don’t know what the creature is, only that it’s bigger than a Goblin, but not not bigger than a human.

James notices that the Goblin has a fancy necklace on, and he demands it in exchange for the Goblin’s life.  The Goblin leader gives it up, and then the party tells him to leave and not come back for at least a day.  They also warn him never to try to attack anyone again.  Roth adds that they’ll return in a few days and will expect the chief to have found out more information about the ‘pale big folk’ who have been going through the woods.

Once the Goblin leaves, the party opens a few of the sarcophogi just a crack to make sure no ambushers are hiding in there.  Instead they see the looted bodies of long-dead and decayed humans, but Bhurisrava says to leave the bodies there, since that’s where they were originally interred.  They proceed to check all the rooms thoroughly for treasure and clues.  They find little of the first and none of the second, but Harley does discover a huge slab of stone that covers what might be another tunnel.  With all of them working together, they manage to move the stone and reveal a long, roughly cut passage descending into the ground.  Allar shrugs and says that it probably leads into the Land Below, but he can’t imagine why the Goblins would need to go down there, or even how they could move the stone slab.  A quick check reveals that, indeed, the tunnel beyond probably hasn’t been disturbed in decades, so the party closes the passage again and decides to leave before the Goblins get organized for their return.

They discuss their plans, and eventually decide that since the Book Thieves are obviously moving through the woods, their next course of action should be to talk to Oleane [Nic snerts at her name], and find out what the Druid knows.  James and Bhurisrava grumble that they don’t really want to do this, and would rather leave the Haranshire altogether and hope that no one finds them, but Harley and Roth are both willing to stay with Allar, because they trust him and because they think the safest place is with the experienced warrior.  

After some mockery is exchanged between Harley and James about who was the coward in the Goblin fight (the one who tried to run away, or the one who was too scared to even go inside until it was all over), they tell Allar to bring them to Oleane’s grove.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*Chapter Eight:
The Sun Crosses the Sky*

[meta:  Please bear with me.  This post isn’t too full of action, but it provided a lot of information for the party that’ll be vital to understanding the story ahead.  This is why I’ve been less than enthused about writing this chapter, since it’s pretty slow.]

Traveling through the Thornwood is difficult.  As Allar leads Bhurisrava, Harley, James, and Roth through the forest to find the Druid Oleane, they have to sporadically stop and help someone get unentangled from the thorny bushes and branches that fill the woods.  As they walk, Allar answers Harley’s questions about him and about the Haranshire.  

Her first question is about Allar’s black scimitar, a highly magical weapon that seems somehow familiar to her.  The metal of the blade is jet black, with deep purple wrapping on the hilt and black pearls on the tips of the crossguard, but most surprising is the bright gleam along the blade’s edge.  The cutting edge of the scimitar is a finely serrated line of diamonds.

Allar tells her that he found the scimitar in the treasure horde of a shadow Dragon he and his friends defeated.  He had lost his own weapon when he pulled the blade from where it was imbedded in the scales of the Dragon, and it with it he had managed to behead the beast and save their whole group.  

Bhurisrava, a bit dubious that a scimitar could behead a Dragon, hints casually that Allar’s making it up.  To prove his point, Allar holds the blade up vertically, and as they pass beneath several low hanging branches the blade cuts them like a hot knife through butter, without Allar having to apply anything more than weak pressure.  The half-Elf ranger states that he could cut down trees with the blade if he needed to, but Oleane probably wouldn’t approve.

At Oleane’s name, James laughs aloud, as always.

Allar continues with his story, saying how he later found out that the scimitar, named _Shaalguenyaver_, last belonged to a Tundanesti Elvish prince, Dentalles.  Allar, himself _half_-Tundanesti, doesn’t feel worthy of owning a weapon that had such a distinguished history, but over the years he has helped the Tundanesti Elves often enough that they consider him the new rightful owner of the sword, and have stopped asking to have it back.

Then, to better get to know the layout of the Haranshire, Harley asks about the area.  The Innenlesti Phuurst, forest home of the Innenlesti Elves like Bhurisrava, borders the area to the north.  To the east are the foothills of the Tunda Mountains, where Imperial builders are constructing a road that will become a trade route through the mountains.  The Thornwood and the Shreiken Mire make the southern border fairly difficult to pass, so the only real trade is from the west or (occasionally) from the Elves to the north.  The only other big landforms of note are the Great Rock Dale to the north, which has enough caves and crags to hold a few thousand Orcs and Goblins, and the Eelhold, a dam to the northwest where a friendly tribe of Goblins live and fish on eels.  Oddly, Allar doesn’t know why a dam was built there, because no one but the Goblins can stomach to eat the eels in the lake, but there must be something odd about it because a powerful water elemental lives in and stays in it all the time.  Allar and his friends helped settle the Goblins there; they’d previously been a thorn in the side of the people of the Haranshire, but they found the Eelhold a nice place to live.  

They ask then about Allar’s friends, his old adventuring companions.  They already know about his wife, Lacy, who stands over six and a half feet tall, a foot taller than her husband.  Lacy’s a priestess of Meliska, the Elvish goddess of healing and life.  She’s currently away in the Tundarasne Phuurst, the home forest of the Tundanesti Elves, trying to make sure the Elves there don’t go to war with neighboring humans.

Allar’s other friends include David Waryeye (a gnome wizard who’s currently lecturing at a wizard’s school in Tennas), Babb the Bold (a minotaur warrior who’s out tracking down rumors about his long-lost uncle), and-

Suddenly Oleane emerges from the trees ahead of them, her eyes wide like a startled deer.  Allar stops in midsentence, then tells the others not to act threatening, since Oleane is quick to anger.  

The guys in the group are too busy staring to think about acting threatening.  Though the Thornwood is hell on normal travelers, with all the plantlife snagging people, Oleane is a Druid and thus at home in the woods, not needing to worry about thorns tearing her skin.  For that reason, she wears no clothes except for a few furs to make sure certain parts of her body don’t burn in the sun.  She’s very shapely and voluptuous, just ugly because of how dirty she is.  Roth doesn’t seem to mind the dirt, and stares shamelessly.  The Druid is only wearing two pieces of bear fur—one over her shoulders and breasts, and the other around her butt—plus a small shoulder-strung bag that looks like it’s filled with food.  Even Harley does a little staring, more in shock than anything else.

Allar talks to Oleane in Innenlesti Elvish, which only James and Bhurisrava can understand.  The four of them discuss what Oleane knows about the intruders in her woods, leaving Roth and Harley to shrug and look around at the little animals that seem to follow Oleane everywhere.  After a moment, Oleane switches to muttering, nervous Lyceian, which she apparently doesn’t speak very often.  In the conversation, they learn that Oleane knows there are people in the woods, and that she occasionally sees groups of men traveling around, but she hasn’t worried enough to start following them around.  Though she doesn’t particularly care about, or perhaps doesn’t understand, the danger the Book of Darlakanand represents, she agrees for Allar’s sake to send some animals out to find out where the men are staying.

They thank Oleane, and she leaves quickly, whispering as she goes to Allar (which Bhur overhears) that Crisenthia is in her grove, and shouldn’t be disturbed.  Oleane heads off, and as the group heads to Harlaton to check on Harley, James, and Bhur’s horses, Bhurisrava asks who Crisenthia is.  Allar says he’s never met her, and just knows that she’s some forest spirit Oleane spends a lot of time with, and that Oleane is very protective of Crisenthia’s privacy and safety.

It’s nearing night by the time they cut their way through the brush and out to the other side of the Thornwood, coming out near Harlaton, where Harley, James, and Bhur were sleeping the night Death, the Illithid creature, attacked them.  They arrive and find out that the horses were disposed of, and that the innkeeper/shopkeeper/blacksmith wants to be paid for the trouble.  Allar assures the man that the creature that killed the horses was slain, and pays the man generously for not making a big deal about the strange goings on.

From Harlaton they travel north a short jaunt to Milbourne, where they get rooms for the night at the Baron of Mutton.  They find out to their relief that both Jenneleth (Tauster’s apprentice “Jenny”) and Nikal made it to Milbourne safely, and that a local healer tended to Jenneleth’s wounds.  Though frustrated that their searching has not yet been successful, Allar tells them all to get some sleep.  Bhurisrava mutters that he doesn’t need to put up with being ordered around, but Harley tries to convince him that they’re safer with Allar, and if nothing else she and James need the money to pay Harlan for the horses that were slaughtered by Death.  And Harley blames Bhurisrava for calling out Death in the first place.

Before going to bed for the night, Roth gets drunk, and in a fit of drunken lucidity says that it’s weird that Death was able to kill their horses in Harlaton, then jump halfway across the Haranshire to attack Nikal and Jenneleth.  Pondering that, they go to sleep.

The next day Jenneleth brings them to the local temple to Meliska, where a priest healed her.  Jenneleth is in her early thirties, about to get married to the town’s smithy in two weeks (on Easter), and is a fairly attractive green-eyed woman with the same light brown hair everyone in the Haranshire seems to have.  She’s a fairly skilled wizardress, but only really learned it as a lark, and as a method to avoid being ‘just’ a housewife.

At the temple they talk to the secondary priest, since the head priest, Lafayer, is at the bridge construction in the east, there to perform a blessing ritual on the bridge.  The priest they speak with doesn’t know anything about any thieves, except that a Dwarf who lives in town has been worrying about his nephew, who has apparently gone missing.  The Dwarf, named Old Grizzler, thinks that his nephew was waylaid by bandits while traveling from the mountains to the east to visit him.  Harley says to pass on her condolences, but the matter doesn’t really concern them.  Bhurisrava, however, stays in the temple and tries to convince the priest to convert to Christianity, but has no real arguments except that it’s the only good thing to do.  The Meliskan priest calmly declines.

By the way, the holy symbol for Meliska is an eclipsed sun, and in full illuminations the light from the eclipsed sun is usually illuminating an evergreen tree surrounded by darkness.

They bid goodbye to Jenneleth for now (and leave Nikal in the tavern), since Allar wants them to head back to Thurmaster.  They set off early in the morning, and a general complaint arises among Bhur, Harley, and James that in the span of four days they’ve crossed the Haranshire twice in each direction.  Allar apologizes, but says that he really needs to keep them around in case they spot any of the thieves.  Tauster was the only other person to get a good look at the thieves, and the old man has poor eyesight, so the four of them are his only way to know for certain who was responsible for the theft of the Book of Darlakanand.  Of course, since Allar is offering to pay them one hundred Lyceian gold pieces each (about the equivalent of ten thousand dollars) for a job that might just last another day or two, they decide not to complain too much.  At least for the trip to Thurmaster they again have horses.

They reach Thurmaster again by mid-day, and Allar asks them to wait for him with Tauster while he heads off to alert the local Lord Parlfray and his own guards in Allar’s own keep.  With him, Allar takes the prisoner they captured, who is now conscious but magically weakened by Tauster’s spells.  Allar says he wants to turn the prisoner over to Parlfray, and that the Lord doesn’t like foreigners much.  Though Allar encourages them to investigate with their own initiative, Allar’s departure leaves Harley, James, Bhur, and Roth just sitting around in Thurmaster.

Thankfully they don’t have to sit around in Thurmaster long before something interesting crops up.  A big party is going on in the small, cramped local beer hole/tavern.  A group of eight men have paid for a keg of ale and are celebrating their good fortune in treasure hunting.  Apparently they found a treasure map somewhere and managed to use it to find a nice cache of money in the Great Rock Dale.  While listening to their tales of battle with Orcs and Goblins, the party notices that one man smells intensely of fish, which makes them wonder since there apparently aren’t any lakes in the Great Rock Dale.  The same man mutters that they still haven’t found the big treasure they’re looking for, but the bats drove them off.  The other treasure hunters laugh drunkenly at the mention of bats, but don’t linger on it.

The treasure hunters have a great time partying, but they quickly get drunk and sleepy, and as they retire to their rooms for the night, they pay generously with a masterfully-minted gold bar, about three inches long, marked with Dwarven runes.  The coin could easily pay for most of the bar’s store of ale, but the barkeep quickly takes it before anyone gets any ideas of stealing.

Stealing, however, is on Harley’s mind.  She discusses with the others that the eight men might be the same brigands that the Dwarf in Milbourne thought could have waylaid his nephew.  Despite the rest of the group not being sure, Harley decides to sneak into the room of the drunk men while they sleep (even though it’s mid-afternoon), and then see if they actually have a treasure map.  James trusts her enough to distract the innkeeper while Harley silently slips into the room filled with a  mound of passed out treasure hunters.  A few minutes later she emerges, covered with the stench of ale and vomit, but she has found a treasure map.  

Since Allar did suggest they investigate according to their own initiative, and the map seems to be fairly detailed with a lot of places to seek treasure in and around the Great Rock Dale, James suggests that they borrow the map and go treasure-hunting themselves.  Though Harley had only planned to find out if the men were brigands (which it seems they weren’t), she reluctantly agrees when Bhurisrava points out how boring and smelly it will be just staying in the town.

Roth buys some extra ale, and then they get ready to head off.  Harley tells Tauster where they’re headed in case Allar wants to find out, and then they ride off toward the Great Rock Dale, hoping to get at least near it before sunset.  As they travel, Harley, James, and Roth take turns suffering Bhurisrava’s attempts to proselytize about the Holy Spirit, the Father, and the Son.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*Chapter Nine: This is what it means to say, “I Pull a Roth”*

(The title is an homage to a Sherman Alexie short story.)

The party reaches the Hardlow Woods near the Great Rock Dale just as the sun is setting, so they set up camp and hit the sack, James, Bhurisrava, and Roth taking the different watches while they let Harley sleep.  Their cooking fire attracts some attention, and each watchman spots some small shapes moving in the shadows of the nearby woods, but no Orcs or Goblins attack, and night passes uneventfully.  

The next morning, James wakes up before dawn, says hi to Roth who fell asleep on watch, then proceeds to wake up everyone, stating that no one needs to sleep when there’s light in the sky to work by.  Grumbling and looking as unflattering as possible, Harley crawls out of her bedroll and helps Roth cook breakfast while James and Bhur discuss the treasure map.  The map is a tattered and stained piece of vellum, with crisp handwriting marking points all across a detailed sketch of the Great Rock Dale and the Hardlow Woods.  

From the party’s vantage point, the Great Rock Dale is just a long canyon, about 200 feet across, that extends off to the horizon.  Their own map of the Haranshire they got from Harlan Smith shows that the ravine is a good ten miles long, and so they estimate how far they’ll need to travel to get to the various places on the map that the treasure hunters the day before have not yet marked as taken.  Most of the caves described on the map are labeled “Orcs” or “Goblins,” plus a number (like “Goblins 48”: they guess it’s the number of Orcs or Goblins), but one location stands out because it’s labeled “Bats 2 – lots of treasure.”  Apparently it hasn’t been hit yet.

There are two more items of note on the map.  One treasure location is in a bog somewhere in the Hardlow woods, and it is labeled “Ghost 1 – magic in the bog.”  Additionally, there is a note that says:

I know that the object my employer wants is located in the Dale, owned by an Ogre according to rumors from the Goblins, but my spells cannot detect its exact location, which worries me.  Use caution, but don’t waste too much time searching.  Just bring back whatever treasure you find, and if we have time I’ll send you out again.  Remembering, I know how much treasure is out there, so don’t try to cheat me.

								-Limoges

After pondering for a little while, they decide to go after the ‘bat’ treasure.  Though Harley is not too enthusiastic about climbing down into a canyon apparently infested by . . . they count the numbers . . . 500 Orcs and Goblins, she enjoys the group’s company, especially Roth’s stories about his trip from Kequalak, which they suspect might not be the whole truth of the matter.

*Background:*  Kequalak is a large nation to the north of the Nozama Empire (where the party is right now).  The two nations are separated by the InnenOtdarasne Phuurst, the homeland of the Innenlesti Elves (Bhurisrava is one of these).  Kequalak has a long history, once being the seat of the Caliphate of Dranko Coaltongue, ruler of the world.  After Coaltongue was deposed, the land was home to the Kequalak barbarians, a mixture of humans and Orcs.  Thereafter the Kingdom of Ragesia grew in the land, making slaves of all foreigners and many natives.  For almost a thousand years Ragesia was one of the most advanced cultures in the world, until a few hundred years ago when the enslaved Kequalak barbarians led a revolt that eventually toppled the Kingdom.  The new rulers kept all of the worst traits of the Ragesians, and abandoned the few redeeming ones.  In hindsight, the only real positive result of the rebellion was the short-term freedom of many Elves who had been slaves of the Ragesians.  Many of the enslaved Elves found a new homeland and became the Tundanesti Elves, but those who remained were again enslaved.

Roth’s background aside, he’s a fun guy to be around, so after they finish breakfast they ride through the edge of the woods along the ravine until they get near where the bat cave must be.  Then they tether the horses and descend fifty feet down the craggy side of the canyon.  Harley brings up the rear, untying the rope overhead and climbing down by hand, just to make sure no one tries to steal their rope and strand them.  

After a brief search they find the entrance to a very large cave about twenty feet wide, that slopes downward into the side of the ravine, disappearing into the blackness in the distance.  They weren’t prepared enough for the trip, and don’t have any torches.  This isn’t a problem for Harley or Bhurisrava, since their Elvensight lets them see in pitch blackness, but James (a half-Elf) has a hard time seeing in the gloom, and Roth (a human) is all but blind.  Roth solves the dilemma, however, when he pulls out his magical lighting device, a small silver rectangular prism whose top bends open to reveal a small flame.

Yes, Roth has a magical zippo lighter.

[meta:  In the last game, in the fight with the church Goblins, Roth said he was going to light a molotov cocktail and toss it at some fleeing Goblins, to which I replied by asking him how he planned to light the thing.  His player shrugged and said he’d just use his zippo, so since then Roth has had a magical zippo lighter that can produce a small flicker of flame at will.  It’s been surprisingly useful.]

Roth lights his own way with a zippo in one hand and his bastard sword in the other, and they climb in as quietly as possible.  Still, their light is probably fairly visible from a distance, and a desperate whisper comes from deep in the cavern before they are too far inside.  Harley follows the noise, moving carefully through the downward sloping cavern.  The ceiling stays the same height, but the floor dips down slowly, so by the time they’ve gotten in sixty feet the ceiling is about forty feet high.  By this point they can all hear the calls of what sounds like a wounded man.

They approach him, finding him hiding in a pile of rocks and rubble at the base of the cave’s back wall, actually a small cave-in that seems to have separated the cave into two halves.  About twenty feet up on the wall is an opening that leads to the opposite side of the cave-in.  The man looks relieved to see them, but is apparently unable to free himself.

They pull him out of the rubble, and he tries to make sure they stay quiet.  Bhurisrava heals the infected claw wounds on the man’s shoulders and arms, but cannot soothe all the man’s injuries.  Slightly before passing out from exhaustion, the man introduces himself as Jeffery Stanton, part of a treasure-hunting party that came into this cave a couple days ago.  He says they were attacked by a pair of huge bats, and that his friends fled and left him.

This crystallizes in the party’s mind that it was the right thing to do to steal the treasure map and come out here.  Bhurisrava takes off his stole and adjusts it into a makeshift pillow for the resting man, and they cautiously prepare to deal with the creatures in the caves.

Harley tries to run away, saying that there’s no need to go after some giant bats if a group of eight armed men couldn’t deal with them.  James grabs her by her collar and keeps her from heading off.  Almost ominously at that moment comes a hissing growl from the ledge overhead, and James hushes Harley, telling her that there’s apparently a lot of treasure here, so they’re not going to give it up.

James forces Harley to climb up the ledge first and find a safe route, and then she tosses down the rope to help up Bhurisrava, James, and Roth.  At the top of the cave-in the rocks have settled to make a rough, rubble-strewn tunnel about thirty feet long, at the opposite end of which Harley can see another wide cavern.  To her dismay she can also see deep gouges carved in the rocks of the floor in the tunnel that connects the two rooms of the cave, gouges apparently dug by claws as big as or bigger than any bear or great cat.  

When everyone gets to the top, James leads the way with sword and shield ready.  They’ve barely even gotten into the tunnel when the growling gets louder, and then they hear a loud sniffing, followed by the heavy beating of wings.  Before they can react, a dark winged shape nearly blots out the opposite edge of the tunnel and begins to fly toward them, gliding barely five feet over the floor, its wings spread out thirty feet to touch the sides of the cavern.  It shrieks an attack cry, high pitched like an hissing eagle, and then dashes over them, clawing James on his armor as it flies past, but not hurting him.  James curses and is about to turn to chase after the ‘bat’ when another set of flapping comes from the same direction the first one came from.  

The second giant bat begins its strafing run toward them, but Bhurisrava calls quickly for the Lord’s holy power, filling the tunnel with bright light that surprises the creature.  In mid-flap it stalls and clumsily lands on its strongly-clawed legs, trying to back away from the strange light.  In the illumination they see it’s not a bat at all, but rather some type of reptilian eagle, with two legs, two clawed wings, a toothed beak, and a whipping tail tipped with some sort of barb.  Gray scales cover its entire body, dark on top and light on the bottom, and as it rears up defensively they realize the creature must be at least fifteen feet long.  

“We’re screwed!” Bhur shouts.  “Is that a Dragon?!”

James and Roth shrug and charge it, while Harley shakes her head.  “No, it’s a wyvern.  They can’t breathe anything at us.”

James and Roth dodge the wyvern’s snapping beak as they close in, hacking at its legs and torso.  The creature looks like it’s already been wounded recently, probably from the treasure hunters, but James and Roth do a better job, hitting it repeatedly though not always hard enough to pierce its scaley armor.  Harley flings Ricochet at the wyvern, but the drake bats it away with its thick wing, and the weapon clatters to the floor.  Bhurisrava has his bow ready to fire, but he only gets off one ineffective attack before the beating of wings behind him alerts him to the return of the first wyvern.  

The huge beast falls upon him, catching his leg in its claw and his shoulder with its huge maw.  He cries out in pain and barely manages to dodge the wyvern’s barbed tail, which flings a smelly ooze as it impacts into the floor when Bhur had been a moment earlier.  Bhurisrava starts to crawl away, moving his warhammer to parry a heavy claw stomp that could have shattered his chest.  He calls for help, but James, Roth, and Harley are still trying to take down the second wyvern, which is beginning to stagger under their combined attacks.  

Hearing Bhurisrava’s shout for help, however, Roth delivers one last smash to the second wyvern’s beak as he turns and glares at the first wyvern, which has pinned the priest.  Roth’s eyes widen and his nostrils flare, and he roars ferociously at the monster.  The wyvern is standing at the ledge, right at the entrance to the cave-in tunnel, tearing at Bhur’s arms with its flapping wings and scraping claws, but Roth’s roar diverts the creature’s attention.  In fact, everyone pauses for a moment in shock as Roth charges the wyvern full on, continuing his roar as he sprints to the monster and leaps, bastard-sword-first, into its chest.  Still shouting in anger, he drives his sword into the wyvern’s torso, flying forward with all his strength, driving the wyvern backward.  The huge drake loses its balance and gurgles in pain as it falls backward off the ledge.  Roth rides with it in mid-air, and when it smashes into the cavern floor of the first room, Roth rips his sword free and begins hacking downward repeatedly into the monster’s neck.

The second wyvern cries out in rage at the death of its mate, and it kicks James to the floor, then rushes past Harley through the tunnel, leaping into the air in the first room, where it circles Roth, preparing to strike.  Harley rushes to check on Bhur, and finds that the priest is curled up in pain from a deep wound in his leg where the wyvern’s barbed tail struck him.  Bhurisrava says he’ll be okay and prays for a spell to at least slow the poison.

Roth gives a war cry as he plunges his sword into the chest of the already dead first wyvern, but still has enough wits to dodge the barbed tail of the second wyvern as it circles low overhead, lashing down with its stinger.  Harley recovers Ricochet, then runs to the ledge and hurls it at the wyvern, but the drake ignores the minor impact.  James reaches the ledge as well and begins firing arrows at the wyvern, none of which do anything more than bruise the huge beast.

Roth cleaves off the tail of the first wyvern and tries to jam it into the tail of the second wyvern, but the monster appears to be immune to its own brand of poison, so Roth huffs angrily and goes back to trying to hack at it whenever it strafes him.

Harley throws her dagger which also has minimal effect, leaving her without anymore weapons to throw.  She apparently has forgotten about the magical crossbow Roth gave her (since in 2nd edition you had to have a proficiency to use a crossbow), and so she plucks a dagger from James’s belt and waits at the ledge for the wyvern to fly near again, which it soon does.  The winged beast swoops down and knocks Roth off his feet with its claws, but then Harley runs and leaps at the wyvern, landing on its scaley back.  Scraping and sliding across its jagged scales, Harley tries to stab downward into the wyvern’s neck, but can’t reach.

Another arrow flies out from James, shot too high and almost catching Harley, so James adjusts his tactics and begins trying to shoot at the monster’s wings to tear them up.  The wyvern, busy trying to shake Harley off, flies high out of Roth’s reach, so the raging man slumps in frustration, looking around for a ranged weapon of some sort.  

The wyvern tries to scrape its back on the ceiling, but Harley rolls to the side and hangs on the monster’s thigh, dangling thirty feet in the air.  Another arrow flies into the wyvern’s wing, and Harley gets an idea.  Wincing in pain as the wyvern’s wings buffet her, she leaps and grabs onto the wing’s shoulder, then drives her blade into the joint.  The wyvern’s flaps begin to lose strength, and as it glides toward the floor Harley leaps back onto the ledge for safety.  The second wyvern crashes almost directly atop the body of the first, nearly crushing Roth, who was standing on his kill.  Roth finishes off the second wyvern with a few strong blows to its head, and then slumps to the floor, his blood cooling after the exertion.  

Harley cheers Roth, and Roth downs a drink in honor of her, and then James and Harley help get Bhurisrava down to the floor so he can rest.  As Roth offers Bhurisrava something to drink, Harley and James scour the second tunnel for the supposed treasure.  There is surprisingly little to be found, mostly just a lot of Orcish trinkets.  It appears that the wyverns usually dine on the nearby Orc tribes, or on wildlife, not on well-paid people.  In the front room of the cave, however, they do find a finely-made backpack tangled up with a marvelous platinum and steel helmet that is covered with Dwarven runes.  Inside the backpack are just some spoiled supplies and a scroll tube with its seal cracked.  

They later learn from the man they rescued, Jeffery, that his friends had found a large pouch of Dwarven gold bars in the backpack, but had only been able to escape with that when the giant bats attacked.  It had been too dark to fight effectively, so they’d fled and left him for dead.  As for the scroll, they’d opened it, but all the writing was in Dwarvish, so they left it too.  The party decides to take the helmet and scroll case to Milbourne, to talk to the Dwarf there named Old Grizzler.  They think that perhaps the wyverns ate the Dwarf’s nephew, and Harley says it’s the right thing to do.  

Roth, wanting to be thorough, guts the two wyverns and pries through their stomachs and intestines looking for any Dwarf remains.  He finds bones of a well-digested human or Orc in both, but no bones that match Dwarf size.  

They rest for a few minutes, and then the stench of wyvern innards drive them out of the cave.  Harley keeps one of the stingers as a trophy (and Roth says the poison might be useful), but otherwise they want nothing to do with big dead things.  They wearily climb back up to the top of the ravine and discover to their relief that their horses haven’t been stolen by Orcs yet.  Roth walks, giving his horse to Jeffery so the wounded man can ride, and they head back to Milbourne, feeling a mixture of pride for their victory, and disappointment that the other guys apparently got all the money so far.

Bhurisrava realizes that he needs to prepare more healing spells.  He’s never really been a warrior, but he trusts that the Lord had a hand in their arrival, since without them, Jeffery would have died from starvation.

James realizes that he already dislikes Dragons, having met Inzeldrin and now these two wyverns, neither of which were worth the trouble of dealing with them.  He wants to get paid by Allar as soon as possible, and then go back to Lyceum and get paid by Harlan.

Roth has done his good deed for the day.  He remarks that the life of a normal person isn’t enough for him, and he only really feels alive when he’s in danger.

Jeffery’s unconscious.

Harley wonders why she did what she did, leaping onto the wyvern.  She tells herself that must’ve been trying to get to the exit, and the wyvern just got in the way.  She doesn’t mind playing the part of a guard or adventurer, but the idea of actually getting into that much danger worries her.  Her previous experience had always taught her to flee danger, so she decides that the safest thing to do is to leave as soon as possible.  If Allar were nearby to protect them, she might feel safer, but the only reason she even considered staying in the Haranshire was because Allar had said it was safest with him. 

Bhurisrava seems to guess what Harley’s thinking, and says openly that he doesn’t trust Allar, and that he suggests they all keep an eye on the ranger.

When they finally do reach Milbourne, Jenneleth (Tauster’s apprentice) tells them that Allar came by looking for them earlier in the morning.  He said he’s going to need them for a job in another two days to protect a vital incoming caravan.

“Yeah, whatever,” James says, fully intending to leave as soon as they get a chance.  There’s one more thing on the map that interests him.  “Ghosts 1 – magic in the bog.”

*****

*Pull a Roth:* _intr. v., colloquial._ Lunge forcefully at an obviously physically superior foe head-on, leaping directly at its chest, often with the intent of knocking the foe off a ledge. 
_exclamation, colloquial._  A request for aid, given by gamers to the House Dice Gods, intended to alert the gods that the forthcoming roll is very important.  Only used in conjunction with the verb form of this phrase.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*Break Period One:*

If you haven't stopped reading yet, please take a break now and get something to eat or drink, do ten sit-ups, and wait at least an hour before coming back.



*Storytelling Notes:*
Welcome back.  People who also read Sagiro's Storyhour might have noticed the familiar name Dranko Coaltongue.  Originally in my world, I had just a generic 'Orc King,' but recently I decided to fit Lord Coaltongue into my world.  It's a long story, and it's not directly related to this story in any way.  Well, almost none.  Okay, more than you'd think, but you won't recognize them now.  So it's a long story.  Wanna hear it?

We paused from gaming last August when all of us went off to college (except Bhurisrava's player, who was a year behind us in High School).  Anyway, I went to Emory University in Atlanta, where I got a new group of players.  I decided to try something new, so I set the game 3000 years in the past of my current game world, figuring that it would force me to flesh out my current game.  

The party in Atlanta consisted of:

*Deorn Stormrunner*, warrior-priest of the sea god Marlin, a big guy fond of a drink and armed with a great falchion.  He stands a sturdy 6' tall, and he pledges his weapon to any cause he feels is just, trusting that Marlin will guide him.  He is the last of his family, and his family was the last of the followers of Marlin.  Christianity has recently come into conflict with the old religions, leaving Deorn with a quest no one may want to accept.

*Stanely Deadtree*, a man whose family was saved by chickens one day, whose life was changed when he saw a vision of what he claims was Zorok, the Three-Headed Chicken God of Everything.  Stanely was none-too-bright, but he had a knack for learning fighting styles, and once he saw a group of Taranesti Elves fighting with two weapons.  Thus, Stanely is a master warrior, standing about 6'4" and with the brain of chicken, but armed with a brutal longsword-shortsword combo.

*Aurana Kiirodel*, an Elvish wizardress from Ycengled Phuurst, the last forest inhabited by Elves.  Aurana is a Shahalesti, or 'Light' Elf, but she doesn't hold the same bitterness for humans or for the Taranesti, or 'Dark' Elves.  Over the past few hundred years the various human kingdoms have driven the Elves out of their old woodlands and into Ycengled, driving together both the Light and Dark Elves, two races which less than a millenium ago had all but ruled the world.  Aurana is a classic Elvish beauty, frail, with long black hair, pale skin, and amber eyes.

*Malek Valri*, a human from the town of Ventnor, just outside the borders of Ycengled Phuurst.  Malek was raised in a middle-class merchant family, and has his own store, but when he was younger he became infatuated with robbery.  He saw a robber break into their house, and instead of waking everyone up, he followed the thief back to his hide-out.  The guildmaster caught the teenage spy, but decided to train him instead of killing him.  Thus, every few nights Malek goes out and steals from the people who steal from his shop, just to keep his talents sharp.

*Pinchook Magook*, a gnomish Druid from the Jispen caravans.  Pinchook travels extensively, and is currently stopped in Ventnor, buying supplies for a few months.  She has two pet ferrets and pet wolf who protect her cute, smiling face.

*Rhuarc*, a half-human, half-Taranesti Elvish scout who works often for locals in and around Ventnor.  He's not much liked, and has a reputation as a loner with a sour disposition.  The rumor is that his father was a knight named Galad, who was seduced by a Dark Elvish sorceress.  Galad's fellow knights tried to free him from the charm, but the seductress magically forced him to fight, and Galad died in the battle.  Soon thereafter the Dark Elf summoned a demon to kill the other knights, but the fiend claimed her soul as payment.  Rhuarc grew up as a waif and later a thief, eventually becoming a tracker who prefers to have nothing to do with either humans or Elves.

It is approximately one hundred years after the birth of the Messiah, seventy years after his death.  In Ventnor, the local church was burgularized the night before, and mysteriously the only thing taken were the crosses.  Every one of nearly 300 crosses were stolen in the middle of the night, from wooden crosses on the side of pews, to candle-holders used to read by at night, to the elaborate silver cross in the pastor's room.

One of the church's priests, an Elf named Nicolai, hires local experts to help him track down the thieves and return the crosses to the church.  He hires Stanely and Deorn as muscle, Rhuarc as a tracker.  He also asked his friend Aurana, who was visiting him, to come along as a favor, just for safety's sake.  Local shopkeeper Malek Valri volunteered his help, confessing privately that he has experience in theft.  Finally, the pet ferret of a visiting nature priestess was found torn to pieces in the church, apparently by some type of vicious animal.  

*Stop reading here if you ever think I might get around to writing this out in full storyhour format.*

The party eventually finds out that the crosses were stolen by a group of Taranesti Elves, part of a cult who believes that "a darkness is about to come into the world in the form of the brilliant sun."  The Dark Elves believe they have very little time, and so they desperately use the stolen crosses, plus hundreds of other holy symbols, to form a makeshift summoning circle to summon a demon, which they intend to question about the nature of the coming darkness.

The demon gets loose and rampages across the countryside, but eventually the party slays it.  In the aftermath they learn that the demon-summoning cult of Dark Elves were actually puppets being used by a high ranking Dark Elvish council member.  The Light Elves held most of the power, and did not want to go to war with the humans to again expand their realm, so the Dark Elf wanted to have the demon create a fair amount of chaos, cast blame on his fellow Dark Elves, and then incite enough public fervor that a civil war could possibly leave him in charge.  

The party gets involved in said civil war, but manages to expose the leader before it gets too far, and without its chief instigator the conflict quickly dies off.  In backlash, the Light Elves decide to send out peace emmissaries to the nearby human empires, with the PCs accompanying them.  All the party members are given gifts in thanks for their service.  Deorn receives a tome of knowledge about Marlin, Stanely gets a pair of magical swords (a longsword that is coated with tar, and shortsword that scatters feathers as you swing it), Aurana and Pinchook are inducted into the all-women Order of the Golden Dragon (which is named for Psiana, an old Gold Dragon who defends the Elves), Malek receives Elven Chain and a Cloak of Elvenkind, and Rhuarc is given a gift that was created by his mother before she died--a strange, magical black scimitar.

On the trip with the good will caravan, they learn that a group of Orcs started scouring the countryside a few days earlier.  Eventually they find out the Orcs are looking for them, and through a series of coincidences they end up getting captured by the leader of one tribe of Orcs, a half-Orc named Dranko Coaltongue.  Dranko also captured Trilla, the baby daughter of the Dragon Psiana, and uses her as a hostage to lure out the great Gold.  He has gathered a huge congress of Orc chiefs, and plans to prove his strength by slaying a Gold Dragon that has hounded Orckind for centuries.

The reason Coaltongue wanted the party is because every creature that was exposed to the fiend the Dark Elves summoned gain strange magical powers.  He also knows that enough the baby dragon was nearby when the demon was first summoned, and it has already been heavily tainted.  If she is exposed to much more, she'll die.  Dranko trusts that Psiana knows this, and he knows that it will draw out the Dragon at the right place and time.

The party had to decide.  Aurana had the spell to summon a demon, but not one to control it.  If they refuse to summon the demon, the Orcs will kill them and hire another mage to cast the spell, but if Aurana does summon it, the young Dragon will die, and Coaltongue (who has already shown himself not to be a nice half-man) will be triumphant.  However, they have to make their decision, and it is one that eventually led to the greatest change in the balance of power in the history of the world.

What that decision was will have to wait until I have time to do it justice.  Give me another five or six months, maybe.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*Chapter Ten:  Spirits *
_Spirits of Friends _

Soon after arriving in town, they leave Jeffery, the man they rescued, in the care of the priests at the Meliskan temple.  Bhurisrava makes certain to warn the priests not to try any of those pagan rituals he’s heard about, or else the Lord will have his vengeance on them.  The sight of a scrawny, short-haired redhead Elf chastizing them makes a few of the priests laugh.  Bhurisrava leaves in a snit, muttering to himself.  Roth comments to Bhur that he doesn’t really seem to know what he’s even talking about.  Roth says he went to church a couple times when he was younger, and Bhur hasn’t been saying any of the stuff the priest said then.  Bhur shrugs, but curiosity catches the rest of the party, and Harley eventually realizes that Bhurisrava doesn’t even own a Bible.

They go talk to Old Grizzler, whose house is within spitting distance of the Churnette River.  Milbourne today is fairly bustling, people traveling to and from the farms surrounding the village, some even fording the river from Harlaton to the south.  As they discuss whether to tell Old Grizzler about the dwarf body they found, they watch a barge being paddled upriver, eventually docking at the ‘bridge.’  If you recall, the bridge that was almost built over the river only went half way.  Apparently its builder realized they didn’t really need a bridge, since the river is fordable.  The bridge only extends half-way out now, and is often used as a mooring spot by boats.

After a little hesitation from Harley wondering if they should intrude on the Dwarf, James knocks on the door to Old Grizzler’s house.  A few moments later a bark comes from inside demanding to know who the hell’s disturbing him.  Harley tries to be polite, (“There’s something we think you’d want to see.  It’s rather personal, sir, so. . . .”)  but the Dwarf inside just growls.  Frustrated, Bhurisrava says loudly, “Get out of the stupid house.  We found your nephew.  God.”

Almost immediately the door opens and an old Dwarf glares up at them, a scowl on his face.  He is definitely your stereotypical Dwarf, thickly bearded, glowering, and stocky.  Roth explains that they found some Dwarvish items that they think belonged to his nephew.  Old Grizzler lets them in grudgingly, and tells them to sit down and tell him what the hell they’re talking about.

The house looked average-size from outside, but they discover it’s actually two-stories tall, making the first floor’s ceiling rather low.  Everyone except for Harley has to bend over, so they welcome a chance to sit down, even if the Dwarf doesn’t have any furniture for anyone except himself.  The room is fairly wide, and the Dwarf doesn’t want them to sit close to him.  Once they’ve exchanged the barest formalities (“What are yer names?”  “Sit in the corners where I can see you.” “Don’t get any of yer slime on my floor, Elves.”), James produces the platinum and steel helmet from his pack, along with the scroll case with the letter in Dwarvish.

Harley explains that they were looking for treasure in the Great Rock Dale, and discovered the lair of the wyverns.  They know the wyverns must have killed someone, probably a Dwarf, and they. . . .

They notice that the Dwarf’s fingers are clenched tightly on the scroll from the scroll case.  Harley goes silent, waiting for Grizzler to reply.  After a minute, the Dwarf re-rolls the scroll and returns it to the scroll case, then tries to inconspicuously wipe his eyes.  Grizzler thanks them for bringing him the news from his family and asks them to tell him everything that happened.  He admits that he was once an adventurer himself, long ago hunting for treasure with a few of his friends, and it would please him to hear that the tradition of slaying monsters is still alive and well.

James looks at the others in confusion, obviously not in tune with how to deal with an old man’s loneliness.  Bhurisrava knows what the Dwarf wants, but nervously waits for someone else to say something.  Harley smirks slightly at her companions’ inability to deal with Grizzler, and she offers to tell him about their fight with the wyverns.  Roth speaks up and says that the rest of them will talk too if they can get a little ale to make them all more relaxed and loosen their tongues.  

Grizzler smiles warmly, then nods and tells them to all stand up.  They do so, and then the old Dwarf tells them to stay that way until he comes back with the ale.  This takes a few minutes, and they overhear him saying a low chant in Dwarvish, accompanied by the sound of filling cups with ale.  James is about to sit back down, tired of standing up at a lean, but Roth warns him that Dwarves are really picky about protocol, and guests who don’t treat their host with respect are considered intruders.  James grunts and remains standing, trying to ignore the low ceiling.

Once Old Grizzler finally returns, carrying a pair of mugs in each hand with a flask of his own at his belt, the room fills with the overpowering smell of Dwarvish spirits, so strong that Harley already feels intoxicated.  Harley and Bhurisrava take polite drinks, James drinks cautiously, and Roth downs the first mug fairly quickly, only choking once.  Old Grizzler beats them all in speed and quantity, then relaxes into his chair and tells them to sit down nearby, except for the storyteller, who has to stand.  

Standing is a feat, because Harley’s already feeling woozy from a few sips.  She begins telling the story, starting with how they heard about Old Grizzler’s nephew at the church.  By the time she gets to them stealing the treasure map from the adventurers in Thurmaster, Bhurisrava is leaning forward in a sitting position, asleep with his eyes half-open.  

As Harley spins her tale, she occasionally bumps her head and arms into the ceiling as she pantomimes the attacks against the wyverns.  Every time she does so, she staggers for a little bit to regain her balance, then giggles at how dizzy she is.  James drinks a little more, Roth a lot more, and so when Harley gets to the part about ‘pulling a Roth,’ she convinces James to stand over the unconscious form of Bhur to represent the wyvern, then tells Roth to do what he did in the cavern.  Roth does so and misses James, but James gets off balance from trying to dodge Roth, and so both of them have to sit down to collect themselves.  Grizzler laughs loudly at how weak humans and Elves are, commenting that you can’t really enjoy Dwarf spirits if you pass out before you get really drunk.

Harley finishes her story, and Old Grizzler brings them out of his greeting room to the dining room, which has an actual table.  James carries Bhurisrava and deposits him on the chair, face down and eyes glazed but still slightly open.  Grizzler pulls out some stores of stew, meat, bread, and cake, and throws an impromptu banquet, though he has a hard time getting the slightly intoxicated guests to sit in the proper positions protocols requires.

While they eat, he tells them some stories of his own adventuring career, about one time he and his friends met up with one of the last halflings in the world and they fought off a group of wizards who wanted the halfling for experimentation.  Most of the halflings in the world were killed three thousand years ago in the War of the Burning Sky, and only a few hundred survive.  Grizzler and his friends managed to defeat the wizards and took their magical treasures as loot, then gave the wizards’ tower to the halfling as a new home for him and his family.

Harley respons in kind by telling Grizzler (and Roth) about their encounter with the head and the mind-controlling bug at the magical fair.  Roth shares a story about how he bought his magical lighter from a group of Dwarves who had been treasure hunting deep underground, and how the Dwarves beat him up and robbed him when he fell asleep from too much drink.  Grizzler laughs at that and shares his own story.  This goes on for a few hours, with James just sitting quietly and throwing in a few jabbing insults, and Bhurisrava just sleeping quietly with his face on the table.

Eventually Grizzler reveals that the letter was from the deathbed of the last other surviving member of his own treasure-hunting group.  The letter was dated several weeks ago, and apparently his nephew had been bringing it with him.  Now, Grizzler says, he’s the last one left from his old group.  Harley pouts slightly and pats Grizzler on the arm, saying she misses one of her old friends, an old traveling companion of her own that she hasn’t seen for a few years.

Grizzler nods, and then they toast all of their lost old friends.  Harley, figuring that she’s told enough stories for one day, finally finishes her first mug and passes out, while James watches over them calmly, polishing his sword.  Roth also falls asleep, and Old Grizzler walks off to his bedroom.  James waits patiently, dreary and drunk, but not sleepy.  A few hours pass, and when the rest of them begin to awaken from their naps, Grizzler returns carrying a plain wooden case about two feet square and a few inches thick.  The group is alert but relaxed; one of the marvelous qualities of Dwarf spirits is that it sets on fast, and it fades away just as fast, allowing maximum intoxication with minimum hang-over.

He sets it down on the table and lets it sit closed while he tells his story.  He and his adventuring friends claimed one great treasure during their travels, a set of enchanted daggers that attune themselves to their wielder.  Whenever they’re more than a few feet away, the wielder can return them to himself with a thought.  There is a group of them, and so they attune to the group as a whole in addition to their individual wielder.  If any wielder were to die, any of the other attuned wielders could then become that daggers new wielder, until eventually only one person who survives would possess all the daggers.  They were symbols of camraderie and duty, and now he has discovered that he is indeed the last of his friends, because the last of the blades has come to him.  

He opens the case, revealing four daggers of masterful quality.  He smiles.  “They’re yours now.”

The four daggers are unique, with their own powers, which Grizzler explains to them.  He considers them family now for being willing to bring the news to a stranger, and for being even more willing to share their own lives and stories with him.

*The Daggers:*
Each dagger takes a week to attune itself to its wielder, and then will function for no one else until the wielder dies or passes it on.  An attuned dagger will teleport back to its possessor if they are separated by more than 10 feet, by command of the wielder.  Every dagger glows in its own unique way unless the wielder wills it to dim.  Each dagger holds three charges, which are refilled in various ways unique to each blade.  A charge can be expended to use the dagger’s special ability, or to give the weapon a +1 enhancement bonus for five minutes.  

A dagger with a white silk-wrapped hilt and flawless blade.  The weapon will never stain with blood.  It sheds soft light in a radius of five feet, and its attacks deal damage, but do not leave physical wounds to bleed.  Whenever the wielder is unarmed and in danger, unless he has some other weapon at quick reach, the blade appears in his hand at the cost of one charge.  It is recharged by act of giving charity in any sincere capacity.
A dagger with a wire-wrapped hilt and a pommel of turquoise.  The blade itself is etched with white feathered wings.  The blade trails a faint shimmer of light when it moves, resembling a trail of feathers.  It glows sickly yellow if the air around it is unsafe or toxic.  At the cost of a charge, the blade can cast _featherfall_ up to three times per day.  It is recharged by using it to eat some meat of a wild bird.
A dagger with a silvered blade, etched in black knot patterns, set into a hilt designed in the shape of an ebony panther.  The blade sheds no visible light, but light seems to reflect in the eyes of every creature within 30 feet, making their locations vaguely visible to the wielder.  It can cast _cat’s grace_ at 5th level at the cost of a charge.  It is recharged by wrapping it in black silk overnight.  Once a given sheet replaces three charges, it dissolves into smoke at a touch.
A dagger has a plain silver hilt, pommel, and crossguard, but with a line of blue steel along the center of both sides of the blade.  Whenever the blade touches liquid, it cools it, freezing a 5’ area in the span of a minute, or simply cooling a keg of ale in half a minute.  It doesn’t freeze beyond this radius.  At the cost of a charge for the next five minutes it can shift sizes among dagger, short sword, longsword, bastard sword, and greatsword.  It is recharged by having it touch the wielder’s body throughout his sleep for an entire night.  Upon awakening, the wielder will discover a pale blue mark where the blade was touching.  This mark does not go away on its own, nor can it be magically healed, but simply exposing the skin to sunlight for a day will “melt” the mark.  Until the mark leaves, the blade will not recharge.  It glows as a _light_ spell when the temperature is below freezing.

Amid much gushing from Harley of thanks and how much an honor it is, the group decides who will take which dagger.  Roth claims the one that changes sizes (as I knew he would), Bhurisrava is forced against his will to take the white one that has the puny power, James takes the panther dagger, and Harley takes the dagger she christens _featherfall_.

As they depart to go on with their treasure-hunting, Grizzler stops them and asks if they found his nephew’s body.  They say no, and Roth verifies that there weren’t any Dwarf bones in the wyverns’ bellies.  Grizzler is curious, wondering what happened, but trusts that the four of them will eventually figure it out.  He bids them good journey, and gives them each a flask of Dwarf spirits, telling them to come back whenever they want refills.

Roth walks five feet, downs his, then turns and asks for a refill.


_Spirits of Foes_

[meta:  From this point on, Roth’s player Jacob was occasionally unable to make it because of scheduling conflicts with his job.  So, from here on out, if Jacob wasn't there, then Roth was ‘in the tavern.’  He became a stalwart defender of that tavern, often drunk and never in any shape to go adventuring whenever the group might happen to return to town.]

Bhurisrava, James, and Harley leave Roth in the Baron of Mutton, the tavern, then head north, back to the Great Rock Dale.  They ride horseback, commenting on how it was pretty nice to be able to help out Old Grizzler.  Bhurisrava decides he wants to learn Dwarvish, while James wonders where he’s going to find black silk to recharge this dagger.  Harley is quiet, thinking about how just a few hours ago she’d been considering leaving the Haranshire because it wasn’t worth the hassle, but now she feels actually welcome.  Plus, she realizes that adventuring is actually fairly fun, with the right friends around.

They reach the woods nearby the Rock Dale about an hour before sunset, and James leads the way with the map toward “Ghosts 1 – magic in the bog.”

Travel through the Hardlow Woods is much easier than through the Thornwood, but it’s very rocky, so they have to leave their horses behind, tethered to some trees.  They walk through the woods, quietly except for Harley’s attempts to get Bhurisrava and James to share more about their lives.  Bhurisrava is apparently too embarrassed about his past, and James says his is boring, so they end up dropping the conversation soon.

About an hour later, Harley notices her dagger has begun to glow a light, sickly yellow, and indeed the air does smell.  Swamp gas and various types of rotting stenches fill the air, and as they near a clearing the ground turns muddy and soggy, sinking their feet into the muck with every step.  The sun has set, but the two Elves and half-Elf can see easily still, aside from the mist rising out of the bog ahead.

A dull moaning comes from the trees around them, and Harley cringes in panic.  From the distance comes rattling, soft but ongoing, growing louder as James presses them forward in search of treasure.  The moaning grows louder, and a second source becomes audible from another direction.  By the time they reach the actual edge of the bog’s water, the moaning fills the air deafeningly, and the rattling sends shivers up their spines.  

Harley wants to leave, but James shakes his head at the annoying noises and says that until something comes out and attacks them, he’s not going to consider leaving.  Bhurisrava nods in agreement and calls out death again, daring the ‘ghost’ to show itself.

A fluttering fills the air overhead behind them, and through the mist they make out the pale shape of a wispy figure skimming a dozen feet over the bog.  The figure flies over their shoulders and deep into the mists over the bog, disappearing into the concealing and wretchedly-smelling vapors.

They hear rustling in the trees nearby, and they all turn to look.  Just as they turn, Harley spots another flying figure out of the corner of her eye, and she pulls James to show him.  By the time James turns, the shape has disappeared.

Bhurisrava coughs and more meekly calls out death, saying it rather quietly.  Harley glares at him, but Bhur shrugs and says it’s better to just face the ghost than to wait and let it taunt them to death.

James grows impatient, and fearlessly he climbs the tree that he guesses was the source of the rustling a moment before.  As soon as he nears the boughs, there’s more rustling, and then the sound of a heavy cloth or blanket being flung.  James catches sight of a small glowing leaping out of the tree before a dark cloth lands on his face and blinds him.  Bhur and Harley spot a small gangly figure glowing pale white fly overhead into the mists as the more vaporous figures before did, moaning loudly as it shears past her.  Crying out in fright, Harley runs.  She ends up smashing into James as the warrior climbs down from the tree, and she claims that she was running to help him.

James grabs her by the collar and drags her with him toward the opposite side of the bog, saying that he’s not going to give up so easily.  Bhur tags along, unwilling to be left alone with the ghosts, and as they walk James tells them what his plan is.  He claims that the ‘ghost’ is going to be in another tree, and that he’s going to climb into the tree and flush it out.  All he wants Bhurisrava and Harley to do is climb nearby trees and wait for his signal.

The moaning intensifies as they pursue the ghost, and the rattling fills the trees, like wooden beads in a thousand hollow gourds.  Another wispy figure flies nearby them, not close enough for James to attack it, but close enough that they can make out its vague shape, resembling a glowing white curtain with hollow eyes and mouth glaring down at them.  The wispy ghost flies away into the mist, and the rattling increases as in applause.

James grumbles in frustration and orders Harley and Bhur to the two trees nearest the one he plans to climb.  He keeps looking into the air, listening for sounds of rustling, and finally there comes a rustling, along with another wispy ghost flying past them with a moan.  James is about to start for the rustling tree when Bhurisrava points to the middle of the mist, where the last ghost has apparently stopped.  It hovers above the mucky waters, too far into the mist to make out clearly, but obviously glowing brightly, waiting for them.

The rattling and moaning slowly fades away, disappearing first close to them, and then fading away from all the other sources around the large bog.  Only one moan remains, coming from the middle of the bog, and it sounds plaintive, weak and lonely.  Harley suggests that it might be in pain, and they should help it, while Bhur thinks that Death is calling _them_ out.

James laughs and rushes for the tree.  Despite his chainmail, he clambers up it quickly, carrying his sword in one hand.  From the bough of the tree comes a short gasp, and then another blanket is flung up to fall upon James.  He catches it with his sword and flings it away, then lashes out at the scrawny glowing figure cowering in the tree.  

James shouts for the others to climb the nearby trees, which Harley and Bhur do warily.  The figure in the trees, barely three feet tall and cowering with wide eyes, hisses at James and turns to leap away, then sees the others blocking off its nearest escape routes.  James continues to climb, and the figure, unable to leap into an adjacent tree, reaches out into the air with its glowing hands and begins to fly away.  James laughs at it as it flies away, and then swings down at something in the air.  There’s a twang, and then the flying, emaciated ghost gives a cry.  It falls into the edge of the bog with a splash, and then the ghost in the middle of the bog falls as well, disappearing in the slime and mist.

James climbs down from the tree and races into the muck to grab the short, fleeing figure before it can get to safety.  Bhurisrava and Harley hang back at first, then rush forward when they hear the creature gibbering and screaming in a high-pitched, snarling voice.

James plucks the ‘ghost’ out of muck that was up to its chest, then carries the slight creature closer for the others to examine.  Now that the creature can no longer move so quickly, the realize that it’s just a Goblin that painted itself with some type of glowing substance.  James tells Bhur to get the rope and tie up the Goblin, and to Bhurisrava’s surprise he finds a nice length of rope just floating atop the bog.

Then they realize how the Goblin was pulling off its ruse.  They guess then, and realize it later when they have more light, that there’s a complex system of ropes stretched between the trees on opposite sides of the bog, from which the Goblin was able to use to swing white sheets coated with glowing paint.  The Goblin itself was adept as scrambling along the lines and ropes, and they realize that it knows enough Lyceian so it can tell them that it normally just lures people into the middle of the bog with one of it’s ‘ghosts,’ and then lets the people get trapped when he drops a net on them.  

James kills the Goblin, realizing that it’s probably killed a lot of people with this trick.  It looks to be fairly old for a Goblin, and most of the ropes look very well-used.  Harley grimaces at the thought of what the Goblin has done, and also shivers at the idea of how many real spirits must have been lost because the ruse of the ghosts.  James tosses the Goblin’s dead body into the treeline, and they set camp overnight outside the mucky area.

The next morning, the mist is still thick enough to conceal most of the ropes and lines, but they manage to disable the net trap that was used to trap and drown countless victims.  It is to no surprise that they find several rotting corpses in the area of the trap, all stripped of most of their belongings.  James regrets not forcing the Goblin to tell them where it kept its treasure, and a quick search turns up no cache of treasure.  One thing they do find that is interesting, however, is a Goblin-sized shovel.  James discovers a pit in the center of the bog, where the water is five feet deep.  Apparently the Goblin had been digging a hole looking for treasure.  James ignores the leeches in the bog and strips down to almost nothing, then goes diving for treasure himself.

James spends the rest of the morning doing that; Bhurisrava and Harley mostly abstain, digging only in the shallower areas.  James does find many bones of men and horses, and they guess that this bog must have been the last resting place of many people, even before the Goblin created its ploy.  For all of James efforts he comes up with only a few rotting pouches filled with gold and one scroll case, but Harley discovers a sealed case that has survived being buried in the bog.  She opens it to find a letter dated a hundred years earlier, written to someone’s daughter.  Inside the case is a fancy black choker with a large blue sapphire attached to the front, set in silver.  Harley tucks the case away, not wanting to wear the lovely piece of jewelry until she washes off.

As for the scroll case, Bhurisrava tells them that it is magical, but to wait until they wash off for him to see what type of magic it is.  They agree that if nothing else they probably saved the lives of some innocents, so the lack of great treasure is acceptable.  

James walks the way back to their horses with his armor off, not wanting to spoil it.  Harley eyes him occasionally, shaking her head in sadness that such an attractive man has so little personality.  James ignores Harley’s looks, but Bhurisrava doesn’t it, and he quietly chides her for being lustful.  When Harley asks why that’s a big deal, Bhurisrava stammers, then claims that God forbids it.  After that Bhurisrava is quiet.

As they walk away from the bog, a low moan comes over the wind, and the hairs on Harley’s neck raise.  She shakes off the chill and listens again, but can no longer hear the moan.  Shivering at her own paranoia, she keeps her eyes to herself and follows the others without a word.


----------



## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*Chapter Eleven: Dam Goblins*

When they get to their horses, outside the forest, they find a group of four Orcs busy cutting them free from their tethers on the trees.  It being a hot afternoon and James not wanting to walk back to Milbourne, he rushes forward in his skivvies and cuts them down.  The Orcs are caught off guard, and he wins initiative, so he manages to take them down before any get to attack back.  Bhurisrava tells him not to kill the Orcs, and they leave a roll of bandages for the semi-conscious Orcs to use to keep themselves alive.  Admittedly, they just got out of the bog, so the bandages are wet and smelly (and probably quite unsanitary), but it’s not like they’re going to give clean bandages to horse thieves.  They’ve already lost three horses, and don’t feel like having to pay for any more.

When they reach Milbourne, just around dusk, Allar’s waiting for them.  He gives them enough time to wash up and get a hot meal before presenting them with fresh horses.  He’s paying them to work for him, and he needs a little help.  If they’d stayed around yesterday instead of heading off to seek treasure, their work would be easier now, so Allar doesn’t apologize for forcing them to keep traveling even longer.

Just for your count, this is day seven in the Haranshire.  Day one involved Harley, James, and Nikal getting attacked by bandits and meeting Allar and Bhurisrava.  Day two began by following Nikal to Tauster’s house in Thurmaster, and ended with Bhurisrava calling out Death.  Day three heralded the introduction of Roth and the first meeting with Inzeldrin, plus the fight with the ‘fake’ Allar and his thugs, who stole the book.  Day four included a fruitless search through the woods, a fight with some Goblins in an abandoned church, and the introduction of the druid Oleanne (cue James laughing at her name).  On day five Allar brought them back to Thurmaster and told them to stay put, but they decided instead to steal a treasure map and head to the Great Rock Dale.  On day six they fought the wyverns in the dale, then returned to Milbourne and made friends with the Dwarf Old Grizzler.  They ended day six in the Hardlow Woods, dealing with unfriendly spirits, then spent half of day seven looking for treasure.  Now, at the evening of day seven, they return to Milbourne, only to have Allar politely reminding them that there are more important issues than looking for money.  They’re trying to stop something that could potentially enslave all the peoples of the world, and now he has a lead they need to check on.

(By the way, they’re about to reach third level.  My games always seem to go so fast.)

Harley, James, and Bhurisrava agree to go along, but they find it impossible to rouse Roth from his drunken slumber, so they once again leave him in the tavern.  A little after nightfall, with everyone tired but clean, they set out to the northwest, through the Blanryde Hills.  Allar explains that if they ever have to come out this way on their own, they should follow the Churnette River (which comes down from the north then turns east toward Milbourne), but he’s in a rush so they’re cutting across the hills.  The Blanryde Hills are full of old mines, only a few of which are still even slightly profitable.  The place is too rugged and arid for farming, and not rich enough for extensive mining, so the hills mostly just play home to various nomadic families of Orcs.  That’s the problem he’s asking them to come out for.  The last time the Mind Flayers sent agents to the surface in the Haranshire, they had allies with the Orcs, and just recently Orc activity has gone up.  Allar wants their help so he can check it out and see if the Orcs in the hills have anything to do with the book thief, since his current efforts have proven useless in finding any leads.

As they canter swiftly through the rough hills, Allar asks what they’ve been doing since he last saw them.  Upon hearing that they managed to save an abandoned man’s life, slay a pair of wyverns, cheer up a lonely old Dwarf, and dispatch a murderous Goblin-ghost, all in the span of two days, Allar does apologize for being frustrated with them earlier.  Bhurisrava grumbles to himself, saying that he’s not going to let Allar out of his sight.

It takes them about two hours to reach their destination, the Eelhold, a large dam that has made what little farming there is in the area a little easier.  The waters of dam are just home to a lot of eels, which don’t taste that good, but the people living around the dam have a cultivated taste for raw or pickled eel.  To warn them ahead of time, Allar tells them the tale of the Goblins of the Eelhold.

[meta] I tried to fill in the PCs on the area as subtly as possible, so before each game session really got going I’d give them some details and tell them who told it to them.  Most of my group is more action oriented than conversation oriented, though perhaps that’s my fault for not being a good role model.  Anyway, I tried to speed up the sharing of information so we could get to the action.  Of course, the information just made the action more interesting.[/meta]

*Allar tells The Story of the Goblins of the Eelhold:*


> _“Back when me and the others first came to the Haranshire, tracking some leads about the Mind Flayers and their associates, one of the lesser problems we had to deal with was some flooding in the south, in the farms around Harlaton.  We were new here and didn’t know what was or wasn’t a big deal, so we checked that out.  The ground had just mysteriously turned soggy, slowly, over the course of a few months.  The villagers blamed curses, Inzeldrin . . . the green Dragon in the Shreiken Mire,”
> 
> Harley interrupts with a mixture of flippancy and trepidation.  “Yeah, we met her.”
> 
> ...




[meta] It is at this point that Harley’s player, Jessica, confuses the name “Shiraz” for “Shasta.”  One, a mid-level ranger.  The other, an orange soft drink.  Jessie’s explanation?  She couldn’t remember “Shiraz,” and “Shasta” always sounded like a familiar name, so she assumed it must be the ranger chick’s name.  At least this time it wasn’t malevolent, like the ‘Commie’ insults or ‘anal leakage girl.’ [/meta]

When they reach the Eelhold, the newcomers to the Haranshire finally get to see just how large a structure it is.  The lake created by the dam stretches for a few miles in each direction, and the dam itself is sturdily-built stone.  The lake fills a large basin, and the high walls around its edges are riddled with shallows caves.  This late at night they can clearly see the dozens of cooking fires on the shore around the lake.  The small dark shapes of perhaps hundreds of Goblins are silhouetted by the flames.

“That’s a lot of dam Goblins,” James notes.

* * *

They spend the night outside the dam plain, low enough that the rise around the lake conceals them from the Goblins.  The Goblins are relatively peaceful, but Allar doesn’t want to take any chances in inciting them.

By this point, Allar has already informed them on what the main task before them is.  If Shiraz shows up tonight or tomorrow morning, they will talk to the Goblins.  Shiraz normally uses the ring every few days to regain control of the elemental, and Allar also wants to find out if the Goblins know anything about the goings-on with the book thieves.  If Shiraz doesn’t show up, their second order of business is to travel north for a few miles and see if they can link up with a merchant caravan coming south from the InnenOtdarasne Phuurst.  It’s a fairly prominent, yearly caravan, which comes down each Spring for the local Easter/Springtide Celebration (for Christians/for Meliskans), and Allar suspects that they may be raided.  He wants to provide extra protection, just in case the caravan’s guards aren’t enough.

They take watches.  Bhurisrava insists on staying up and watching Allar, talking to him and trying to trap him in logic games, but nothing interesting happens during the night.

The next morning, James wakes up first and takes last watch.  The first person he gets up is Harley, then the others.  Harley, not used to a hard life, grumbles about being up so early.  She tries to cook for the group, to at least have an excuse for waking up, but doesn’t have the cooking proficiency, so no one likes her food.  

After Bhurisrava cooks breakfast, Allar (followed by Bhur) scouts the edge of the dam again.  They see no sign of Shiraz, and so they mount up and ride north, linking up with the caravan about ten miles north, almost before all the caravan members had woken up.  Harley grumbles at James about this, but he doesn’t care.

At this point they meet two other professional adventuers, both wizards, and both employed by the caravan.  The first is Arin Mir’tey, a slimy looking human with black hair and a torso too big for his legs.  The other is also human, but with darker, sun-tanned skin and long white hair.  He introduces himself as Victorious Elrad, a water mage (formerly a water technician).  Vic dresses in dark blues and greys, and has a white mustache and goatee combination that makes him look highly distinguished.

[meta] I had new players this week in the game.  I’m pretty sure that the first on, Jon Anasakis, doesn’t like D&D 3e, and so I don’t mind posting negative stuff about him.  He disturbed me at first by asking if he could play a Neutral Evil character, but since he wanted to play a wild mage (and I love wild mages), I decided to let him try it out.  I don’t really enforce alignment, but the idea of having a player character actively be evil kind of worried me.  

The other new player, Justin Rollins, is probably the most relaxed person I know.  He gets disappointed, but never angry.  He’s had a very mellowing influence on me and the game.  Thus, I shouldn’t really be surprised that he wanted to play a water elementalist.  Water takes whatever shape it needs to.  It’s calm and relaxed.  Justin is water.

Both new characters started off at 2nd level.  A 2nd level water wizard, and a 2nd level wild mage.  Two wizards (we had no before), and two humans (we had no before).  It looked promising, even though Jon was kind of annoying in his rules lawyering, demanding that I use alignment.[/meta]

The two wizards are hired guards of the caravan.  Other guards include a mixture of humans and Innenlesti Elves, all warriors.  All told there are two dozen wagons in the caravan, all separate businesses but working together in association.  The incorporated caravan, consisting of many businesses and guarded by family or hired warriors, is a tradition started centuries earlier by Gnomish gypsies.

Not that any of the PCs care.

The caravan begins moving just as Allar, Bhurisrava, Harley, and James arrive, and Allar explains their intentions to the caravan master as the others get to know the prominent wizard guards.  Vic is friendly; Arin is sarcastic.  Vic makes a few jokes and laughs about their encounter with Oleane, and about the ‘dam Goblins’; Arin is bewildered at how silly the others are being, and doesn’t laugh.  Vic uses a cantrip to get everyone some fresh water to drink to quench their thirsts; Arin does not.  Vic will obviously get along with the others.  Arin will not.

*Quick backstory of Victorious Elrad:* 


> _He was eight years old (he’s 24 now) when on a sea voyage, the ship he and his parents were on was damaged and sank in a storm.  Victorious was rescued by dolphins and taken to a nearby tropical island, where he was nursed back to health by a wild mage (who also had a fascination with water magic), a man named Hunter.  The wizard took Vic on as his apprentice, since Vic had no more family of his own.
> 
> Over the years, Vic earned a nickname from his mentor.  “Water technician.”  It was because Vic always had drinking water handy on hot days, and even managed to irrigate their home on  island, filtering sea water to make it fresh.  [meta] Justin was really fond of the movie Water Boy, with Adam Sandler, so he thought this would be a funny side-note for his character.[/meta]
> 
> ...




By the way, this was Justin’s first time ever roleplaying.

*Quick backstory of Arin Mir’tey:*
  By the way, this was Jon A.’s umpteenth time roleplaying.

The caravan moves swiftly after hearing Allar’s warning of a possible attack, traveling within spitting distance of the Churnette River, on its east bank.  Of course, true to Orcish form, less than an hour passes before, right as the caravan is nearing the Eelhold, James spots an Orcish war banner fluttering in the wind, barely visible above the hilltops.  The Orcs, foolish and braggardly, have by their own carelessness let their ambush be spotted.

Victorious thinks fast and tells the caravan to move to the other side of the river, which isn’t easy, but is far safer than waiting for the Orcs to attack.  One uncovered wagon stays on the east bank, which a group of six archers will use for cover.

Vic and Arin borrow horses, and together the whole group (Allar, Arin, Bhurisrava, Harley, James, and Vic) ride through the hills in three groups of two, coming at the Orcs from different directions.  Allar and Bhur go in one group, Arin and Harley in another; these two groups come at the Orcs from the sides.  James and Victorious ride straight at the Orcs, intending to goad the Orcs into charging the caravan prematurely, so the other two groups can attack while they’re disorganized.

James and Vic give the others a minute to get into position, then ride up to the hill behind which the Orcs are hiding, spotting a force of nearly twenty Orcs, all of them on foot except for their leader, who rides a huge lizard.  Vic starts things off quickly by firing a _magic missile_ at the raiding party’s leader, and James shouts that his mother was a pixie, and then they whirl around and ride beneath the crest of the hill before any Orcs can hurl their spears.

The war leader gives the battle cry, and the Orcs charge after the mounted human and half-Elf.  It’s a few hundred feet back to the river, and so the others wait briefly before coming in from their hiding spots.  Bhurisrava casts bless on them, and Arin rides close enough to catch a few Orcs with a _burning hands_.  Harley gets into a tug-of-war with an Orc who tries to skewer her horse, and she manages to not only disarm the Orc and take his spear, but also trample the Orc.  Allar rides into the midst of the Orcish warriors, riding ahead then dismounting and cutting down any Orcs who dare to come close to him.

James misses with his bow a few times as he rides back to the river, but one of the Orcs gets lucky and catches Vic’s horse in the flank with a spear.  Vic and the horse drop, and James wheels his mount around to defend Vic while the water mage runs to get aid from the guards still at the river.

Harley smacks a few more Orcs, but eventually her mount is injured enough that it rides off.  Harley considers riding off with it, but Bhurisrava gets pulled down from horse, so Harley leaps off her own steed and rushes to the priest’s aid.  Half the Orcish raiding party turns back to attack the ambushers, while the other half keeps charging forward for the river.  Allar sprints and tumbles his way to beside Harley and Bhurisrava, and the dual-scimitar-wielding ranger makes it a point to kill any Orc who gets a hit on either of the others.  Bhurisrava cures himself and Harley, while Harley knocks an Orc down with a spear, then catches another with Ricochet.

The only ambusher still mounted, Arin rides after Vic, preferring to stick with the guards he knows and to keep clear of the thick of battle.  James shrugs as the mage rides by, then he engages in mounted combat with the lead Orc warrior, who alternately wields a very long spear and an axe.  The Orc leader distracts him while the rest of the Orcs kill James’ horse, spilling James to the ground.  James dodges dozens of wild attacks but is severely wounded.  He is about to fall to the ground unconscious when a war cry comes from the river, and a hail of arrows fall amid the Orcs around James.  

Victorious mans the reins of the wagon, driving it forward at top speed while the six warriors lay down suppressing fire.  Arin, not particularly liking horses, stumbles off his mount and lands in the back of the wagon, becoming part of the onward-hurtling war machine.

The Orc leader spurs his warriors onward, but one stays behind to finish off James, who is still on the ground.  James, effectively unconscious, is at the Orc’s mercy as the tusked warrior raises his warhammer for the killing blow.

Victorious releases the reins and casts the only effective spell he still has, _Tenser’s floating disk_, creating the disk directly over James’ prone and helpless body.  The disk is a plane of force, and though it was probably never intended for this use, it manages to stop the Orc’s killing blow.  James musters enough strength to thrust his sword upward into the confused Orc’s belly before he himself sags to the ground.

Harley tumbles through some of the Orcs to distract them, and to recover Ricochet, which seems far more lucky than usual.  She sprints off toward the river, pulling a handful of Orcs away from the beleagured Bhurisrava and Allar, and when she spots the leader of the war party she hurls Ricochet and wounds the huge Orc in the back.  Harley then has to try to fend off the Orcs that pursued her, but she goes down to a volley of axe and hammer attacks.  Allar rushes off to her aid, leaving Bhurisrava to fight two Orcs all by himself.  Bhurisrava swears profanities at Allar for leaving him alone, not apparently realizing that Allar just saved Harley’s life.

Back on the other side of the fight, the war wagon crashes into lead Orc’s battle lizard, and the lizard falls to a combined volley of a dozen arrows to the face and neck (in 2e, even lowly 0th level warriors could fire 2 arrows per round), but the Orc leader leaps undaunted onto the wagon and cuts down the warriors one by one.  The other Orcs with the leader hurl axes and spears, and take down a few more archers, leaving only one alive. 

Arin Mir’tey realizes that the wagon has a lamp, so he smashes the lamp onto the back of the Orc leader, covering him with lamp oil.  Victor knocks over a small container of water and uses _metamorphose liquids_ to turn it to gasoline, and then Arin shouts for the guard and Vic to jump off.  As the Orc leader turns and smashes his axe into Arin’s side, the wild mage tries to cast _burning hands_.  Instead, the spell surges, and a rain of copper coins falls on Arin’s head, knocking him off balance and out of the wagon.

Vic doesn’t have any fire spells, and the other caravan guard is knocked unconscious before he can light a spark with flint and steel, but suddenly a weak shout can be heard over the din of combat.  Vic turns and sees James, still laying near-death on the ground, drawing back and then hurling a shining silver object through the air.  It lands on the ground near Vic, and both the wizards see that it flickers with flame.  Arin and Victorious scramble through the half-dozen Orcs surrounding them, and finally Vic manages to grab the flaming object off the ground and hurl it into the wagon.  Arin cuts the horse free, and it speeds away just before the Orc leader screams in agony, flames searing him and dropping him into unconsciousness.

With their leader defeated and more guards rushing across the river as reinforcements against them, the Orcs turn and flee.  Bhurisrava knocks one unconscious with his blunt arrows, and Allar kills two more, and a total of only five manage to escape.

* * *

In the aftermath, the caravan regroups and Bhurisrava bandages James and Harley enough so they won’t die, and also helps the guards who were only wounded in the battle.  Unfortunately, two of the guards died at the hands of the Orcs, and the caravan wraps them so they can be buried in a consecrated cemetery when they reach Milbourne.  

Bhurisrava has to explain what exactly the ‘magical flaming object’ is that Vic used to set the Orc leader on fire.  Arin Mir’tey considers the ‘Zippo,’ as Bhurisrava calls it, to be a waste of magic, but Victorious is impressed, and decides to keep it for now, since he can’t cast fire himself.

Allar brings James and Harley to the Goblin shaman from the tribe at the dam, and pays the shaman to use enough healing magic to return them to consciousness.  Though still groggy, the two are able to move about well enough.  Both Allar and the caravan leader thank the group for the well-planned and –executed defense against the Orcs.  

The caravan stops just briefly to see if the Goblins want to trade for anything, which gives the party enough time to meet Shiraz, who was actually hanging out with the Goblins the night before, which is why they hadn’t seen her.

Shiraz is skinny and lithe, with pale skin and blone hair, looking something like the stereotypical 1920’s female singer, with a surprisingly long neck.  She seems very at ease among the Goblins, and laughs with the party about how many dam Goblins she has to deal with.  Then they watch her talk to the dam Goblin shaman and use his ring to call forth the Eelhold’s water elemental.

The elemental rises from the waters, towering twice as tall as Shiraz in a vaguely humanoid shimmer of waves and spray.  She lifts her hand with the ring toward it and shouts at it that she is still in control, and that it will not harm anyone unless the ring-bearer commands otherwise.  The water elemental replies in a deep gurgling voice, like speech underwater, and says that it will obey.  Even though its voice sounds alien, they can all tell that the elemental hates being controlled.  With movements that seem almost spiteful, the elemental crashes back into the lake’s waters, splashing spray onto Shiraz and the nearby Goblins, plus Harley, who wandered close in curiosity.

They talk to the Goblins for a little while longer and learn nothing useful about the book thieves, though one Goblin warrior shares that a courier from another tribe to the east delivered his tribe’s monthly threats, saying that the Blue Goblins (the one at the Eelhold), were lucky because the Troll Goblins (the ones from the eastern border of the Haranshire) weren’t going to be doing anything mighty and powerful this month.

Allar explains that it’s tradition among competing Goblin tribes for couriers to be sent each month with threats, just to prove how strong each tribe is.  The thing is, most of the threats are blatant lies, so the fact that the Troll Goblins said they _wouldn’t_ be doing anything this month is suspicious.  

James groans, realizing that Allar’s going to ask them to go on another mission for him.  Surprisingly, however, Allar tells them to rest when they get back to the Haranshire, and that he’ll link up with them.  He plans to check around this area some more, traveling with Shiraz, and he’ll meet them in another day or two.  If they feel up to it, he suggests it might be a good idea to go looking for leads.

James huffs, then says he might be more inclined to be investigative if he were to receive a bonus payment.  Allar smiles, then shrugs and says he can only has on him enough to pay them for their work so far.  He gives Harley, Bhurisrava, and James each twenty gold pieces, plus twenty extra for Roth.  This cheers James up greatly, and Harley even admits it might be a good idea to ask some questions around Milbourne, but Bhurisrava still doesn’t trust Allar.  He refuses to let Allar go away, since he thinks Allar is too suspicious, and might be one of the villains himself.  Thus, after much arguing, Allar shrugs and accepts that short of knocking the priest unconscious, he’s going to have to put up with Bhur for a day or two.

The caravan sets off, leaving Allar, Bhurisrava, and Shiraz to explore the Blanryde Hills, while the rest of the group moves on to Milbourne, saying good bye to a friendly bunch of dam Goblins.  Vic raises a toast to his new friends, and while James and Harley join in, Arin simply goes off by himself and has a few swigs of ale with the guards.  Since the guards are unconscious, he drinks for them too, all by himself.

[meta]Did I mention I never really liked Jon A?[/meta]


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*Errata:*

Just one quick note. I said before that they didn't find anything interesting in that mire, but James's player pointed out they did discover one important item. While rummaging through the muck, James discovered a finely crafted longsword, which he named "Rat Bastard," in honor of the Goblin. I thought they got the sword later, but Nic told me that they found it at the bog. Looking back at my notes, he's right.
With Vic now in the party, they got a chance to identify it. It's enchanted, and though not incredibly powerful, it has some abilities which they can't determine. So James has a magical sword, plus a magical dagger, all for doing the right thing. 

So my old notes reveal that James already had a fine, historical weapon. Looking at my notes also revealed some other slight alterations to what I thought I knew. In an obscure character profile written by Roth's character, he complained about something that hasn't happened yet in the storyhour, so apparently I was wrong to say Roth never came back. So I'm happy, because Roth was a fun character, both to roleplay with and to write about.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 15, 2002)

*Chapter Twelve: The First Strand of the Spider's Web*

The party arrives in the town of Milbourne a little after noon, accompanying the merchant caravan that they had earlier in the day saved from an Orcish raiding party.  As the caravan leader stops by an outlying farm to negotiate payment so they can set up in an unused field, the new heroes saunter into town to relax.

Here's an overview of events and characters to date.  If you want to skip to the real stuff, feel free.

_Hera 'Harley' Fyana (Vaneljesti Elvish bard 1/rogue 2), formerly a member of a noble Elvish family, left her home several years ago, and has since then made a living as a performer and part-time courier.  Though usually she has to hide that she is an Elf, she is pleasantly surprised that the people of the Haranshire are very open toward Elves, due in no small part to their proximity to the Innenotdarasne Phuurst (homeland of the Innenlesti Elves), and due to the local half-Elven hero, Allarliao Ursdail.


James T. Rocket (half-Elf fighter 3, badass extraordinaire) is possessed of little backstory, and what little there is he claims would be too boring to listen to.  He's trained as a warrior, and met Harley during a simple fair guard job at the Magical Fair in Lyceum, capitol city of the Nozama Empire.  But chance he and Harley ended up saving the day, and attracted the interest of a businessman who wanted them to deliver a package to Thurmaster, a town near the north border of the Empire, in a region called the Haranshire.

Nischal Al'emelos, commonly called Nikal (Innenlesti Elvish fighter 4), accompanied Harley and James on their courier trip to the Haranshire.  He proved initially useful when the three of them were attacked by brigands, but both James and Harley recognize him as a bit of a lecher and a braggard.

Allarliao Ursdail (half-Tundanesti Elvish fighter 4/ranger 12) is a well-respected hero in the Haranshire, owing to how he and some of his old adventuring companions performed a myriad of minor good deeds like saving people's lives, and eventually gained enough money to set up a keep in the northeast of the area, which has helped keep down raids from wilderness tribes of Orcs, Goblins, and Humans.  Few in the area know that he and his fellow adventurers actually thwarted a plan, conceived by alien creatures of the Land Below, to control the mind of every creature on the world.  Allar met Harley, James, and Nikal when they delivered some brigands who attacked them to the local Haranshire authorities in the town of Milbourne.  He has since become their part-time employer.

Bhurisrava (Innenlesti Elvish Christian cleric 3) is rather quirky and enigmatic, apparently not knowing as much about his religion as he claims.  He joined with the group by stumbling upon their conversation in Milbourne's tavern, the Baron of Mutton.  When later that night it seemed that Nikal had stolen the package James and Harley were supposed to deliver, Bhurisrava helped them track him down.  It eventually turned out that Nikal had just grown weary of Bhur’s rambling, and had ridden off to Thurmaster, hoping to deliver the package and get back to Milbourne before his companions awoke the next morning.

Tauster (Human wizard 9) is an aging fellow, never an adventurer and far too frail now to ever become one.  He was the recipient of the package Harley, James, and Nikal were supposed to deliver, but in truth he was simply the middle-man, since the package was meant ultimately for Allar and his companions.  The chest they delivered contained a spellbook and research manual originally written by a Dwarvish wizard who was working with those who wanted to take over the world.

Darlakanand (Dwarf wizard 20, deceased) worked with the Illithids, telepathic creatures Allar dubbed Mind-Flayers, in an attempt to develop a powerful spell that could dominate the will of every creature in the world.  He was killed by Allar and his companions, five years ago, but the wizard's eight spellbooks were scattered among the remnants of the conspirators.  Darlakanand had many notes on manipulating minds and on how to avoid mind-control.  Allar wants to destroy all these books so no one could do again what the Illithids attempted, and in the package James and Harley delivered, he had the eighth and final book of Darlakanand.

Jenneleth (human wizard 5/rogue 1) is the young apprentice of Tauster.  She was saved from the Illithids seven years ago by Allar and his friends, and now she lives relatively peacefully in her home of the Haranshire, intending to get married in two weeks, on Easter.  After Harley, James, and Bhurisrava left Thurmaster against Allar's requests to head out of the Haranshire, Jenneleth accompanied Nikal to Milbourne.  

A pseudolithid drone is the term that best describes a creature that stalked Nikal in an attempt to claim the Book of Darlakanand from him.  The creature is a sickening hybrid of a human body with the tentacled biomass of an Illithid.  Nikal realized that the thing would kill both him and Jenneleth if it realized they didn't have the book, so he bluffed and ran, trying to lose it in the Thornwood (a large forest between Milbourne and Thurmaster; the road passes around its border).  Meanwhile, halfway across the Haranshire, Harley, James, and Bhur's horses were attacked and killed, their saddle-bags scoured through.  The three of them pursued the killer, eventually losing its trail but stumbling almost accidentally upon Nikal as he finally fell from exhaustion after being chased by the psuedolithid drone.  They managed to kill the drone, and both Bhur and Harley vowed undying disgust toward such hideous-looking creatures.

Roth VanMuren (human barbarian 3) heard the clamor of their fight with the drone, and came out of his forest cabin to find the source.  He offered shelter to them for the night, and the next morning agreed to help them get through the forest as quickly as possible so they could make their way back to Thurmaster.  Everyone realized that the drone was after the book for some reason, and they just wanted to make sure Tauster and Allar were safe.  Roth's a big, dirty man who likes ale and dogs, takes poor of his equipment, and wears only a loincloth and chainmail.

Inzeldrin (old green Dragon) makes her lair in the Shreiken Mire, to the south of Thurmaster, east of the Thornwood.  She had an agreement with the people of the Haranshire to protect them from danger if they paid monthly tribute in the form of cattle or sheep.  Apparently her payment this month was not sent, and she sought out Allar.  Instead she found Bhurisrava, James, Harley, and Roth, waiting with Tauster for Allar to show up.  Inzeldrin doesn't like them much, but her human form is sexy and dark, so Roth likes her.

The night after the drone attack, as the party waited with Tauster for Allar to return from wherever he'd gone off to, Tauster's home was attacked by a group of thieves, one of whom was magically disguised as Allar.  They stole the book of Darlakanand, nearly killed James, and escaped into the Thornwood.  The next morning, when Allar returned, they were suspicious, but eventually everyone but Bhurisrava realized that the Allar the night before had been a fake.

Thereafter they tried to track down the thieves through the Thornwood, but failed.  Allar went to contact some allies of his around the Haranshire, leaving the party in Thurmaster, but they overhead a group of men discussing a treasure hunt.  Harley stole their treasure map while the men slept in a drunken stupor, and they set off to find treasure.  Instead they found one member of the other group trapped in a wyvern lair.  They killed the wyverns, found the gear of Dwarf (but no body), then brought the rescued man back to Milbourne so he could heal.  

In Milbourne they talked to the only Dwarf who lives in the area, who goes by the name Old Grizzler.  The gear they found belonged to Grizzler’s nephew, and after a day of remembering the heroism of living and dead, Grizzler thanked the party by giving each of them a magical dagger that once belonged to him and his adventuring companions decades earlier.  Roth, hung-over, had to stay in Milbourne, but the rest of the party (Harley, James, and Bhurisrava) set out before the day was done, heading to a forest near the wyvern lair, where the stolen treasure map said they could find treasure.  And find treasure they did, after dealing with a hoaxed ghost and through much digging in the muck.

Upon returning to Milbourne the next evening, Allar found them and dragged them to help him.  A merchant caravan was to be arriving in the Haranshire in less than a day, and Allar wanted to make sure the caravan would be safe from any attacks by raiders.  They camped for the night nearby the Eelhold, a dam full of Goblins.  The next morning they left the dam Goblins and linked up with the caravan just in time to protect them from thirty attacking Orcs.

Victorious Elrad (Human wizard 3 [water elementalist]) and Arin Mir’tey (Human wizard 3 [wild necromancer]) were both guards of the caravan, and they assisted the party in fighting off the Orcs.  Arin doss not like the party very much, and considers them to not be serious enough, but Vic is a relaxed guy who fits in perfectly with Harley, James, and Bhur.

(wow, this is a long recap)

The party rested and healed after the fight at the Eelhold, seeing a malevolent water elemental that seems native to the dam.  They also met Shiraz (Human ranger 6/swanmay 6), a friend of Allar’s who occasionally borrows a magical ring from the local Goblin shaman, using it to control the water elemental so it doesn’t get too violent.

And here we are._

Allar lets the caravan go on ahead.  He just wants to check out a hunch and make certain that the Orcs weren’t working with the same people who stole the Book of Darlakanand, and so he plans to follow the tracks of the raiding party back to their source.  Bhurisrava, still paranoid over the whole ‘fake-Allar’ incident a couple days earlier, insists that he wants to go along and ‘help’ Allar.  Allar grudgingly obliges, and asks the rest of the party to keep their eyes open when they get back to Milbourne until he gets back.  He says it might be up to two days before he’s back to Milbourne.

Once they get to the Baron of Mutton, the tavern in Milbourne, Harley, James, Victorious, and Arin Mir’tey sit and have lunch.  After a very short conversation, Arin decides he’s going to head off.  He leaves the tavern, apparently to go talk to the caravan master so he can get paid and leave.  

They do not lament his departure.

James and Harley tell Vic what they’ve been up to for the past few weeks, and Vic tells them about his own travels and training.  Harley tells Vic about their conversation with Old Grizzler, and James complains that he misses the taste of Dwarven ale.  Vic smiles, puts a finger to James’s mug, and when James takes another sip, he shakes his head from momentary dizziness, then quietly forces himself not to cough at the intensity of the drink.

Having displayed his usefulness to the party, Harley and James invite him to tag along with them on future adventures.  

They mill around the tavern, Harley making an effort to ask if anyone’s seen anything, but it’s a few hours before they get any leads.  A local tanner and businessman comes in and gets a drink, complaining to the bartender.  His woe is that he traveled for a couple hours to visit Kuiper, one of the area’s respected and well-known rangers.  Kuiper, Harley learns, owns a farm on the southern edge of the Churnette River, which runs between Milbourne and Thurmaster.  Milbourne is on the north side of the river, and the southern bank is overgrown with thorny trees, so the tanner had brought a wagon of commissioned leathers and goods to drop off to Kuiper, expecting to be able to get a ride over the river on Kuiper’s personal ferry.  Since Kuiper wasn’t waiting for him like he was supposed to, the tanner had to leave his wagon alone and swim across the river to go get the ranger.

When he reached the other side, he hiked through Kuiper’s farmland to the man’s house, but when he got there no one would answer the door.  He couldn’t see anything through the windows, and there was a smell of rot in the air.  The tanner said he got a nervous feeling being there, like a lot of eyes were watching him.  He left quickly, hoping maybe Allar would be here to go check it out.

Harley, James, and Vic decide they should probably take the risk and check out what’s going on, and the tanner commends them on their bravery.  However, since they’re still a little wobbly after being beaten up in the Orc raid earlier, they’re in no shape to go now.  The town’s healer, a priest named Lafayer, is out of town, visiting the eastern edge of the Haranshire to bless a newly built bridge, so without magical healing available, they decide to rest for the remainder of the day and set out early the next morning.  James always gets up early and wakes up Harley with him, so she secretly hopes that if they go out to the farm and come back quickly, she might be able to claim weariness from traveling and garner herself an extra few hours of sleep at the inn.

While they relax, Harley gives Vic a quick tour of Milbourne, introducing him (and in many cases, herself) to local dignitaries and notables, including Old Grizzler, who isn’t too pleased with Vic’s use of magic to create Dwarven ale.  He claims its almost sacrilege, but he’ll forgive it because Victorious is an easy guy to get along with.  James comes along on the tour as well, claiming it’s good business sense to learn who he might have to work with or for in the future.  However, even with the combined efforts of Harley’s curiosity, Vic’s charm, and James’s canny entrepeneurship, the only real news they hear is that the local caravan’s arrival is meant to coincidence with the upcoming Springtide/Easter festival (a mixture of Elvish and Christian religious celebrations), and that Tauster’s apprentice, Jenneleth, will be getting married soon.  

Vic swings by the caravan as it’s setting up shop (it will only be there for the next few days), and gets paid by the caravan master.  Arin Mir’tey apparently got paid and has already left, on foot, which, again, no one cares about.  The caravan master is saddened to hear that Vic will be staying with his new friends and not going with the caravan when it moves on to the next town, but Vic makes the parting friendly by enchanting the man’s favorite flagon so any water put into it will always be pure.  It will only last for one year, but it pleases the man a great deal to have his own personal magic item.

They shop through the caravan for a while, but decide to come back later if they get more money.  Vic has his eye on a particularly interesting panther that is being kept in a too-small cell.  To help out the cat, he risks getting bitten on the hand to reach into the cage and give the panther’s water bowl the same enchantment as the caravan master’s mug.

Nothing particularly interesting happens for the rest of the day, so they round out the evening with Harley timidly putting on a performance for the Baron of Mutton.  She normally works with a partner to do a magic show, but she has to adlib by performing tricks on willing customers.  For the first time in several months, she doesn’t steal from anyone in the audience, and ponders that choice as she goes to bed.  

The next morning . . . well, toward the end of that night, when the sky is still dark, James apparently detects when it would be most appropriate to wake up Harley, managing to stir her from a nightmare where the Illithid drone’s weapon had been eating its way through her arm toward her thoat.  Disturbed, for once she’s pleased that James woke her up, and they rouse Vic too.  Vic sleeps like a cat, apparently hearing them as they try to wake him up, but not paying attention.  After a little effort, though, they get him up, then go get their horses and ride for Kuiper’s farm.  On horseback, Vic seems to fall asleep sitting up, but he tells them that he’s collecting energy for his spells.

They reach the spot of the river nearest to the farm just as the sun is beginning to rise, and can see the ferry docked about forty feet away.  Vic disrobes to his chest and swims out, then guides the boat back so they can all take their horses across.  Without his heavy cloaks, he’s actually fairly well-muscled, with darkly tanned skin.  Once they reach the opposite shore, Vic puts his shirt and cloak back on, now completely dry, skin, clothes, hair, mustache-goatee and all.

They guide their horses through Kuiper’s farm fields, following a well-worn path between patches of carrots and lettuce, and some areas of fallow grass.  In the distance they can vaguely make out the dark shape of a set of buildings.  The sun sheds light, a breeze gusts, and glittering dew fills the air, accompanied by the stench of decay.

As they approach the first building, which appears to be a normal house, Harley notices something glittering in the air between the house and a barn.  When they take a few steps to look closer, they can see nothing.  Shrugging, they go back to the main house and force the door open.  It’s a heavy door, and it looks like it has already been smashed at by somebody.  It only budges slightly even though the handle is unlocked, so James finally shrugs in frustration and smashes in the window.  He brushes away the glass and climbs inside awkwardly, having a hard time because of his chainmail.  Harley and Vic hear James groan out, “Eww,” and then after a moment the door opens from inside, creaking loudly.  They can see the decomposing body of a man lying beside a hastily built barricade of furniture.  A sword lies beside him, but is cracked down the middle, useless.

Only a moment after the door screeches open, they hear a heavy thudding, then an odd, soft noise, like the rustling of branches in the breeze.  Vic takes a step back and looks around curiously, then waves for the others come out and back him up.  

“I heard something behind the barn.”

James is about to ask for more time because he sees two stab wounds in the chest of the dead man, but Vic heads on already, expecting the others to be right after him.  He walks forward slowly, between the barn and the house, listening carefully to the rustling around the corner.  He hears something shift, and is about to cast a defensive spell when Harley shouts out, “Vic, stop!”

Victorious whirls to see what Harley is warning about, and just then stumbles one more step into the nearly invisible web stretched between the two buildings.  In the shadow of the barn, no sunlight sparkles on the dew on the long strands.  With his back turned, he can’t see the source of the noise behind him, but Harley screams as a heavy beating thunders closer.  Panicking, Vic lunged forward, slipping out of the sleeves of his cloak.  He falls to the ground just as a dark shadow flies over him, and something smashes him in the shoulders, tearing through the back of his shirt but missing his flesh.  He rolls onto his back so he can see what just attacked him, and the huge form overhead backpedals a few steps, tilting its body down so that eight giant black eyes reflect his face back to him.

Vic tries to scramble away, but the spider slams down one of its legs onto his chest, pinning him to the ground.  The creature, easily fifteen feet across, is far too heavy for Vic to budge, so he pulls out his dagger and tries to stab at the hairy limb.

Harley calls for James’s help and throws one of her daggers at the arachnid’s face.  The blade hits it bluntly, only bothering it slightly.  James, however, sprints out of the house and lunges at the creature, slashing heavily with his sword at the leg pinning Vic.  The spider, huge as it is, stands barely six feet high, so as it lunges at James, it’s forelegs seem to form a cage around him.  It lashes out with its biting mandibles, tearing through some of the links in James’s chainmail, but not seriously hurting him.  However, at the same moment it tramples over Vic, and he groans in pain, struggling to clamber free.

Harley breaks into a run, away from the fight, and James calls her a coward as he tries to jam a gauntleted fist into the spider’s many eyes.  Between the two buildings, there’s very little room, so Vic crouches warily between the ever-scrambling spider legs as he casts a spell.  From each palm he sprays out two lines of water, gushing and impacting into the spider’s side.  In pain, the spider almost inadverdently trips Vic by trying to rush away.  It smashes into James, trying to knock him over.  He lets himself fall, then raggedly gouges his longsword through the chitin on the spider’s abdomen.  Ignoring the ichor dribbling onto his face, he shoves with the end of his blade, digging into the creature deeper.  

A bizarre screech comes from the monster, seeming to seep out of its body in all directions, and then it springs away, leaping into the air.  Vic pulls James to his feet and they both turn to see the giant spider land heavily atop Kuiper’s house, denting the roof.  They hear Harley scream in surprise, and it is then that they realize that Harley had been climbing onto the roof of the house to get a better angle of attack.

James to Vic, “Can you get me on the roof?”

Vic to James, “Heh.  _I_ can’t get on the roof by myself.”

James is about to try to clamber onto the top of the building when Harley flies overhead, making a running jump to the roof of the barn.  The other roof is higher, so she grabs onto the eaves with one hand, driving her turquoise-hilted dagger into the wood with the other.  She tries to clamber upward, but then the spider follows her, a massive shadow passing overhead, crashing onto the barn’s roof thunderously.

Harley groans and pulls herself high enough to fling Ricochet one handed.  True to form, the chakram whirls harmlessly high, and in frustration Harley kicks off from the wall.  She lands gracefully, but her face shows how shaken she is.  She starts to point upward in shock at where she had just been (she had been hanging about twenty-five feet up) when James shoves her aside and falls to the ground, holding his sword upright.  A shadow falls over them, and Harley kicks away furiously as the monster lands to attack again.  James misses just barely with what would have been a crippling blow, and the spider lashes out with its bite at his face.  The poisoned fangs scrape across his cheek, and James rolls away, having to force down the pain.  

Vic shouts, “James, get clear.  Harley, get its attention.  I need to get in to cast a spell.”

Before he finishes talking, James swings his sword in an arc at a leg, cutting off the last segment.  The spider rears slightly and he sprints out from under it, while Harley ducks and weaves in closer, vaulting over the wide legs like hurdles as she makes her way toward it’s face.  The spider tries to spin to bite her, but she plants a hand on its hairy back and jumps up, tumbling across its own body as it spins.  

Meanwhile, Vic casts his spell and crawls in, grimacing as legs pound into him.  Once he’s inside the cage beneath its abdomen, though, he rolls onto his back and aims his blow.  Overhead, Harley drives the blade into the joint of a leg, while underneath Vic thrusts his hand, glowing with arcane energy, into the arachnid’s wound.  

Again the monster shrieks, and Harley leaps away in surprise, tumbling clear of its reach.  James, his face gashed nastily, hacks off one leg with a vicious swing, then pulls Vic clear.  The spider staggers away, hissing and rustling, then collapses beside the barn, going limp.  James delivers a killing blow, thrusting his sword into its face.

Harley runs closer to check on the wounds to James’s face, and asks, “Vic, what the heck did you do to it?”

Victorious smiles victoriously, wiping his hand clean with his robes, which still hang in the remnants of a web.  As he wipes his hand, the robes smolder slightly as if burning.  

“I metamorphosed its own blood into acid,” Vic says smugly.  “Melted it from the inside.”

James and Vic have a brief argument over whether spiders really have blood, while Harley tries to bandage the wound on James’s cheek.  Shaking her head, she tells them that she can’t do much for it, and that it might have been poisoned.  James shrugs, saying without concern that he does feel a little sick.  Since Bhurisrava is off being paranoid with Allar, they’ll have to find another healer.  Unfortunately, the healer at Milbourne has headed east to the bridge-blessing ceremony.  Vic says he can delay the poison a little, but that their only safe course of action is to go find the other priest.

James rests, a magically-conjured ball of ice held to his cheek to slow the blood flow.  Meanwhile, Vic and Harley search the area, finding a ball of spider eggs inside the barn.  They’re a few days from hatching, so after making sure there’s nothing valuable, Harley sets it on fire.  Vic starts digging a grave for Kuiper, but when they realize that James is having a hard time standing up straight, he stops and devotes what little magical energy he has left to slow the progress of the poison.  Deciding to risk having any clues be destroyed while they’re gone, they rig a travois to carry James’s armor, and then leave the farm, flames engulfing hundreds of unhatched monsters behind them.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 16, 2002)

*Chapter Thirteen:  Wandering Aimlessly*

In this chapter, everyone wanders aimlessly.  

I’ll keep it short, because it’s kinda bland.  Next chapter will be fun, though.  If you want a synopsis, it’s at the end of the chapter, in italics.

After dealing with the giant spider at Kuiper’s Farm, Harley and Vic help James as they travel east.  On the eastern border of the Haranshire, construction has just finished on a bridge that will cross a large chasm.  Several decades back the only trade road to the east fell into the chasm, so this bridge should bring prosperity to the region as many more people would have a reason to travel through the land.  Harley, James, and Vic head toward the bridge because the only magically-gifted healer in the Haranshire, a priest of Meliska named Lafayer, is at the bridge for the blessing ceremony.  James was poisoned by a spider bite, and they want to get him healed as soon as possible.

Conveniently, they run into Nikal just as they are about to set off down the Churnette River.  Nikal (NPC Elf fighter 4) was another employee of Harlan Smith, the businessman who hired James and Harley to deliver a chest to Tauster.  He left Milbourne, where he had been recuperating after the attack by the pseudolithid drone, in hopes of linking up with Harley and James.  James, Harley, and Vic are at the dock at the edge of Kuiper’s farm, preparing to sail down the Churnette River as close to the eastern bridge as possible.  Nikal just happens to show up on the opposite bank of the river just as the party was about to leave, so they join together.

Out of character, the only reason Nikal was there was because Chad, Bhurisrava’s player, wanted to play.  In the previous session, Chad hadn’t been able to make it, so we just said that Bhurisrava was tagging along with Allar and being paranoid.  However, by the point of this session, Bhur and Allar hadn’t gotten back, so I had to give Chad someone to play.  

Let me give you a little insight on how Chad plays Nikal.  Previously, as an NPC, Nikal was just a little overconfident, a little sexist, and very self-centered.  Now, with Chad playing him, Nikal became over-sexed, and developed a snooty French accent.  I’m not quite sure why Chad did this, but no one really liked Nikal that much.  I had nothing particularly serious planned for the near future, so I just let Chad be silly.

And so what happens with Harley, James, Nikal, and Vic?  Not much.  They go downriver on the boat from Kuiper’s dock, then pull the ship ashore a little short of Thurmaster.  James is starting to get sick (though he’s too stubborn to do more than shrug when they ask if he’s okay), so they rush overland toward the Tunda mountains to the east.  It is almost sunset when they see the foothills of the Tunda mountains ahead of them.  A camp of workers and engineers is set up on the western side of a wide, craggy chasm, and a handful of guards stand a lax watch at the edge of camp.  They call for Lafayer’s help, and James is still in enough of an entrepreneurial mood that he’s willing to negotiate with the middle-aged priest a fair price for the curing of his poison, but Lafayer agrees to do it for free since they're working with Allar.

The sinkhole itself is nearly a mile wide, too long and craggy to circumvent to the north or south, ranging from twenty to fifty feet deep.  The bridge is nearly completed, spanning in a slow arch, connecting at the far end with a road that was built over a century ago.  While it would have been possible to build a new trade road, the mountains, they learn, are claimed as the territory of various squabbling tribes of Goblins and Trolls, so it’s far easier to just fix one part of the road than build a whole new one.

Even though it’s missing a few finishing touches like a guard railing and cobblestones on half of its width, the bridge is definitely sturdy enough to walk across (though it’s still too rough for wagons).  As Lafayer performs a cleansing ritual to heal James, they chat with the priest and others in the camp, learning that the actual blessing ceremony will take place in three days, assuming no more monster attacks slow down the schedule.  Lafayer has been staying at the bridge instead of in Milbourne because every week or two another Goblin or Troll tribe from the other side of the chasm tries to cross and stop them from finishing construction, since they don’t want people passing through their lands.  Whenever they attack, Lafayer wants to be present to heal any injured workers.  He has saved many lives so far, and everyone at the camp likes the man.

Hearing about the attacks by Goblins and Trolls reminds Harley, James, and Vic of what the dam Goblins at the Eelhold had told them.  Apparently the Troll Goblins, a tribe in the area of this chasm, had sent a message claiming they weren’t going to be doing anything impressive any time soon.  Since Goblins consider lying a great artform, this cues off the party that the Troll Goblins might be planning a major attack some time soon.

Still, there’s no immediate, pressing need to go investigating, and there are a fair number of guards at the camp still, so they rest at the camp for the night.  Harley informs Lafayer of the death of Kuiper, and of a pair of caravan guards in the caravan that just arrived at Milbourne.  Lafayer promises to attend to their funerals as soon as he’s able to return to his temple.

Meanwhile, Nikal mopes that there are no women at the camp for him to impress with his ‘too sexy’ body.  Imagine someone snorting out in a fake French accent, “Ho ho ho!  Too sexy!  Too sexy!”  You’ve got Chad as Nikal.



The next morning, since nothing has happened during the night, the party sets off to the south to check on Tauster in Thurmaster.  They recall that Inzeldrin, an old Green Dragon who lives in the Shreiken Mire south of Thurmaster, had been complaining that her monthly tribute had not been delivered, and so they decide to check out the Mire.  Now that everyone is fully healed (and at a bargain price, James reminds them), they return to the barge they got from Kuiper’s farm and ride it downriver to Thurmaster.  Once they make sure Tauster is alright, they keep going down the river, into the marshland that is the Shreiken Mire.

They wander for half a day, encountering little more than mosquitos.  With a little help they got from a butcherer in Thurmaster, they learned where the offerings to Inzeldrin are usually left.  Each month they deliver a pig or calf to her, tying it to a steel stake in a relatively dry area of the marsh.  They follow the butcherer’s directions, and find the stake around noon-time, with the humidity stifling them.  To their surprise, they find a fairly sturdy rope tied to the stake.  It doesn’t look like it was cut, so apparently someone or something came by a few days earlier and untied the offering from the rope, instead of just cutting the rope, or eating the calf where it stood.  Though it seems unlikely, they admit it’s _possible_ that Inzeldrin might be very gentle with her offerings.  Still, it seems more probable that someone stole the offering.  James and Harley grumble, displeased that the situation just seems to be getting more complicated.

Since it’s been several days at least since the calf was stolen, they only take a little time looking for tracks.  When nothing makes itself apparent, they all shrug and row back upstream to Thurmaster.  Feeling rather sticky and sweaty from the marsh, they start grumbling, and decide to tell Nikal to stay in Thurmaster and look after Tauster.  Once they leave Nikal and start walking, Vic volunteers that he can clean them up.  As for Nikal, who is still sweaty and waiting in Thurmaster, Vic shrugs and says the guy’s too strange.  But Vic likes Harley and James, so he conjures a haze of mist and rain that washes them and cools them off, proving again how cool Vic is.  He even dries them with a snap of his fingers.

Cantrips are cool.

They get back to Milbourne around dusk, and find that Allar and Bhurisrava have just returned as well.  Thus, Bhurisrava gets to tell them what happened in the past two days.


*Bhurisrava’s Tale*

Bhurisrava and Allar hung out at the Eelhold with Shiraz and the dam Goblins for the better part of a day, during which time Allar tried repeatedly to get Bhurisrava off his case.  It didn’t work, though, and instead Bhur spent most of his time listening to the Goblins jibber.  Their language all sounds like one word, “Geeba,” with a lot of variations.  “Geeba geebos geebaba beegabeeb go bee,” and so on.

Bhur still has no idea how to say anything in Goblin, but it was fun listening to the little bastards gab in their freaky little language.

He also had a chance to learn about the water elemental that lives in the dam.  It’s been there for a  long time, even since before the Goblins moved in with their ring of water elemental control.  Shiraz and Allar aren’t sure why the elemental hangs around, but without the ring it’s a threat to anyone who comes near it.  

The ring itself acts both as a way to command the elemental, and as a source of water so that the elemental can follow the wearer anywhere.  Normally water elementals cannot stray far from a large body of water, but the ring is directly connected to the Elemental Plane of Water, so the elemental can go anywhere the ring-bearer guides it.  This intrigues Vic greatly, since all of Vic’s fellow elementalists use rings to connect themselves to the Elemental Plane of Water too.  Vic suggests the possibility that the ring might have belonged to another elementalist, years ago.  Bhurisrava shrugs, caring less about that than about the fact that with the ring he could have a pet water elemental.

Allar, shaking his head, points out that the ring only forces the elemental to obey the letter of the commands, not the spirit.  And anyway, Allar only accepts it as a necessary evil, since after dealing with Mind Flayers he has a great aversion to domination and control.

Vic shrugs.  “Yeah yeah.  But I mean, come on.  It would be cool to have a pet water elemental.”

Allar keeps going, not wanting to get into a long discussion about the elemental.  The evening after the Orc caravan attack, Allar and Bhurisrava rode back to the site of the battle, then followed the Orc’s tracks as far as they could, to the Great Rock Dale north of Milbourne.  They roamed the area during the evening, then set up camp without a fire near the edge of the dale.  They spent the next day scouting the area for signs of Orc activity, and toward dusk they spotted a pair of mounted humans riding in from the south.  The humans descended into the dale and met with some Orcs, so Allar and Bhur waited another evening for the humans to emerge.  They had to stay a good distance away, too far to hear anything being said.

Earlier this same morning, the humans who they saw left the Orc caves and headed east (in the same direction as the Tunda Mountains).  Allar and Bhur shadowed them for a while, and then rode up and tried to confront the men.  The two humans attacked as soon as they caught sight of Bhurisrava and Allar, and managed to unhorse Bhur and knock him unconscious.  Allar took care of the humans, managing to take one prisoner, but forced to kill the other.  By the time Bhurisrava regained consciousness, they were almost back to Milbourne.

Allar interrogated the human, learning that he was carrying a message between the Goblins in the east and the Orcs in the Great Rock Dale.  He says he was working for a wizard named Limoges, and that the wizard has a type of hide-out somewhere in the woods, but he doesn’t know how to get there on his own.  He always has met with Limoges or one of the other, higher-ranked mercenaries, at the edge of the Thornwood.

Allar turned him over to be kept prisoner in the local jail.  He doesn’t think they’re going to get anything else out of him, and Bhurisrava actually seems willing to agree.  He still doesn’t like Allar that much and won’t trust him fully, but he admits that Allar did save his life earlier.

Allar plans to go talk to Oleane the Druid again, in the Thornwood, to see if they might be able to find out where in the forest this ‘Limoges’ is.  

Harley and James recall seeing that name before.  It was on the treasure map Harley stole . . . err, um, the treasure map Harley ‘bought’ (for free) from some adventurers they saw in Thurmaster.  The map had notes of where to find treasure in the Haranshire, and then also this note.

I know that the object my employer wants is located in the Dale, owned by an Ogre according to the rumors from the Goblins, but my spells cannot detect its exact location, which worries me.  Just bring back whatever treasure you find, and if we have time I'll send you out again.  Remember, I know how much treasure is out there, so don't try to cheat me.

			-Limoges
 

That settles it.  The party is going to go to Thurmaster and see if they can find the trail of those guys who originally had the map, and Allar is going to go talk to Oleane.  They have the trail, and now it should be only a matter of time until they find its source.

_If you just skipped this chapter, the quick synopsis is that James gets healed of the poison and then they go back to Milbourne, where they link up with Bhurisrava and Allar.  Bhur and Allar had followed Orc tracks to their source, and then fought some humans who had been negotiating with the Orcs.  These humans were working for some wizard called Limoges.  Hope you enjoyed the story._


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## RangerWickett (Jan 16, 2002)

*Chapter Fourteen:  Veiling Flames, Part One*

Allar arranges for the stablemaster in Milbourne to get horses for Bhurisrava, James, Harley, and Victorious so they can ride to Thurmaster.  Thanks to information gleaned from a prisoner who was delivering a message to an Orc tribe in the Great Rock Dale, they know now that a wizard named Limoges is involved with the theft of the Book of Darlakanand, and they infer that he might have a hand in the attack on the caravan coming into Milbourne.  The prisoner doesn’t know what the message was, because it was a letter written in Hereth, the Orcish religious language, but they do realize that Limoges was the same name that they saw on a treasure map Harley stole.  

Now they’re returning to Thurmaster, where they saw the people who previously owned the treasure map.  Allar, meanwhile, lopes off to the Thornwood to ask the Druid Oleane to look for some place people could be hiding in the forest.  The prisoner says he doesn’t know how to find the building himself, but that it was on a cliff.  Allar plans to meet back in Milbourne in two days.  If either group isn’t back by then, Allar will go to Thurmaster after them, or they should come try to find him with Oleane.

Okay, quick recap of ways my players butcher NPC names.

First off, Nikal (pronounced nih-KALL) becomes Nikhail (ni-KALE) because it sounds like Mikhail Gorbachev.  Thus, Nikal is sometimes called “the commie,” because he has a communist name.

Second, there’s Tauster, an old wizard.  He becomes “Toaster,” as in the thing you make toast with.  Of course, in his youth Tauster was kind of fond of fireballs, but the party didn’t know that when they started calling him Toaster.

Next, Oleane, a druid who lives in the Thornwood, has received the loveable appellation of “anal leakage girl” because the artificial fat O’Lean was in the news at that time for causing anal leakage in those who ate O’Lean-made food.

Then we have Shiraz, a female ranger who is very fond of birds, and who keeps tabs on the dam Goblins at the Eelhold.  Because Jessie (Harley’s player) couldn’t remember Shiraz’s name, she became “Shasta,” a popular soft-drink.

And now, we have Limoges.  Oh, dear Limoges.  *sigh*  Again, somebody in the group forgot what his name was, so Nic (James’s player) offered a way for everyone to remember.  “Limoges?  Let’s call him . . . ‘lemon cheese.’”  And thus, now our party fears the day when they must face the wrath of . . . Lemon Cheese.

Well, that’s what you get when you don’t charge for DMing.  You get just any old yahoo who wants to play, instead of the real gamers who are willing to fork over some cash for the privilege.

Back to the story, though.



The next morning (this is Harley and James’s 10th day in the Haranshire, Bhur’s 11th, and Vic’s 4th, and Allar’s 3,527th), Allar is gone before sunrise, just about as James wakes Harley up, knocking heavily on the door to her inn room.  Harley grumbles but gets ready quickly enough, deciding she plans to get a full night’s sleep tomorrow, even if she has to kill James.

The general room of the Baron of Mutton is very busy this morning, filled with a lot of people who had been merchants or guards for the newly-arrived merchant caravan.  Amid the clamor, the party enjoys breakfast together, swapping a few stories and letting Harley fill Bhurisrava in on how they could have used his help against the spider.  Bhur puffs up his chest self-assuredly, apologizing that he could not be there to bless them with God’s favor.

They’re about to leave when the front door to the tavern opens and Old Grizzler, the only Dwarf who lives within miles, comes in, carrying a multi-pocketed belt over his shoulder.  Harley smiles to him and the Dwarf nods back in reply, making eye contact with Harley, James, and Bhur, but not looking at Vic, who he doesn’t know.  Then Grizzler continues slowly to a far corner of the room.  The party politely waits for the innkeeper to come by and take their plates away, and after a few moments Harley’s head perks up and she looks over where Old Grizzler is.

Roth and Old Grizzler are sitting across from each other, exchanging their individual brand of pleasantries while the Dwarf sets out an array of flasks, one for Roth, one for Grizzler.  Two for Roth, two for Grizzler, and so on.

Harley grins, thinking that Roth had gone off some place without telling them, and she drags Vic over to introduce him to the scruffy woodsman.  Bhur is going to stay behind with James, but James says he can handle the bill himself, and that Bhur should go talk to Roth.  

Roth and Old Grizzler are apparently both preparing a drinking contest, which has been a daily ritual since five days ago when they first met.  Grizzler smiles smugly.  “The man’s almost gotten his threshold up to three flasks.  I used to use that much to wash my mouth out when I had food stuck in my teeth.”

Roth says that he was listening to their conversation, but he thought it’d be rude not to wait for Grizzler in the appointed place, so he just stayed at his own table.  He shakes Vic’s hand eagerly, honored to meet a spiderslayer.  Harley formally introduces them, then asks if Roth’d be interested in coming along, since he’s their friend, and she’s a little worried they might run into trouble.  Without a hint of smugness, Roth agrees he’d probably be useful if a fight came up.  He agrees to go along, if Old Grizzler wouldn’t mind, as soon as they finish their drinking contest.

Vic inquires what kind of liquor is so tough that a big guy like Roth can only handle three flasks, and Harley and Bhur both chuckle, remembering how nice Dwarven spirits are.  Old Grizzler seems to like Vic even less when he realizes that Vic couldn’t guess the identity of the drink, so Vic tries to make up for it by asking if he could have a taste of them.

Old Grizzler chuckles.  “I thought you said you were going to be traveling today, friend wizard.  I don’t think you’d be in a condition to walk after you had a taste of Dwarf spirits.”

“Well, if it’s too strong, I could just water it down,” Vic offers.

“Oh, now you’re planning to commit sacrilege.  Dwarf spirits aren’t called spirits just because.  They house the soul of the Dwarven people.  You wouldn’t water down your friend’s soul, would you?”

Harley convinces Grizzler to agree to a wager.  If Vic can handle half a flask, he can have it.  If he can’t, Vic promises to come back and join in the drinking contest with Roth and Grizzler whenever he’s in town.  Grizzler hands Vic a flask, and Vic, confidently, downs the whole thing.

A second later, the effect sets in, feeling like a Dwarven smithy forge being bellowed in his his skull and down his throat.  

Me, the DM, to Justin, Vic’s player:  “Okay Justin, make a Consitution check.”

Justin gives me a crazy look, but I shake my head.  Vic downed Dwarven spirits in one big gulp, and apparently the spirits are having some fun in his head.  Justin rolls, and barely succeeds.  

His eyes burn and unfocus, the inside of his mouth goes dry, and he almost sags to the floor.  But then, after a moment, the feeling settles into a warm, comfortable flame that soothes his entire body, and a smile spreads across Vic’s face.

“I’ve got to figure out how to make this stuff.”



A few minutes of chatting later, James comes over and reminds them that they do have business to get to.  The drinking contest between Roth and Old Grizzler goes quickly, with Roth bowing out early after one and a half flasks because he promised to go with his friends.  Old Grizzler nods to him in thanks and tells him to keep two flasks for good luck on the trip, and then the party sets off.  Just as their saddling up to ride to Thurmaster, James tells Harley that she should know that their breakfasts will be free from now on at the Baron of Mutton.  

Harley asks why, and James tells her that he just told the innkeeper a little about how they had saved the recently arrived caravan from an Orc attack.  Since all the caravan folks have been eating at the Baron of Mutton, increasing his business greatly, the man was feeling generous.  Harley realizes that James can be much subtler than she thought at first, and grins in appreciation of his economical talents.

They ride out of town, Vic grinning dumbly as he leans low on his horse’s neck.


After riding for a couple hours, they get to Thurmaster, where apparently a small thundercloud had just come by.  It sprinkled for a few minutes, then passed on, and now there’s not a cloud in the sky.  Roth admires the nice weather, but Harley admits that even though she hasn’t been home for over a year, she does miss the sight of huge trees overhead, lush green leaves highlighted by bright blue skies.

James gets them back to business, reminding them they need to look for leads about the adventurers who had the map a couple days ago.  They go into the town’s small inn, where they learn Nikal is staying, and ask about the men who were there about five days ago.  The innkeeper just shrugs though, and isn’t very helpful, even when Harley offers a little money to jog his memory.  The guy honestly doesn’t recall much, but he knows they only stayed one night, and he hasn’t seen them since.  They ask if it’d be okay to take a look at the room they were in, and if anyone else has been in that room in the past few days.  The innkeeper says no, Nikal has been his only lodger recently, since Thurmaster is kind of out of the way for most travelers.

Harley decides to go check on Tauster, so that she can avoid Nikal in case he sees them.  She goes with Roth, who wants to know what the wizard would trade for some Dwarven spirits.

In the inn room, James, Vic, and Bhur don’t find much.  The place has been mostly tidied up, but there’s still some red dirt on the floor, and one of the beds is broken.  They ask if the innkeeper found anything, and the guy shrugs again, asking them to get off his case.  Bhur begins preaching at him, saying that a righteous man would not hinder the wants of his brother.  The innkeeper groans and actually starts arguing philosophy with Bhur, saying that the priest’s argument is weak.  

While he’s distracted, Vic sneaks around his personal room.  He’s only in there for about a minute before the innkeeper comes in after him and yells for him to get out.  He says he’ll never let him stay at his inn again, and tells them all to get out.  Vic grumbles loudly, shouting, “It’s not like I found anything in there!  No reason to get so angry!”

Meanwhile, Harley and Roth go talk to Tauster, who smiles and asks ‘Jenny’ if this is her fiancee.  Remember, Tauster’s apprentice Jenneleth is getting married in another two weeks to a man in Milbourne.  Sure, Jenny has black hair and is a human and Harley has red-brown hair and is an Elf, but . . . well, Tauster has bad eyesight.

Harley says that no, it’s not her husband, but Roth, the man who cleaned his gutters.  They chat for a while, Harley hoping to maybe glean something of use from the man’s somewhat senile ramblings, but again, not much.  The only half-interesting thing that has happened lately was that Tauster heard a couple of young kids climb on his roof and try to break into his tower.  When they got fried by the minor ward he had there, they ran off crying.  Tauster had to apologize to their mother.

Harley and Roth chat with him for a while longer, until Bhur bursts his way into the house, complaining loudly before he even comes inside about the stupid innkeeper.  As soon as the door swings open, Tauster is up on his feet, his hands reaching for spell components.  The old man stops, though, when he sees the priest come in, and he sheepishly sits back down, apologizing that old reflexes die hard.

After a little more talking they decide to go outside and try to canvas the rest of the town.  Roth tries to trade his Dwarf spirits for something, but Tauster is afraid he’ll die if he drinks that stuff.  Vic offers to trade in exchange for it, but he only has money, and Roth doesn’t want money.  After some finagling, though, they arrange a three-way deal, where Roth gives Vic the spirits, Vic lets Tauster take a look at the water mage’s spell book, and Tauster agrees to prepare a potion of some sort, as a thanks to the both of them.  It will take a couple days, though.

They check out the rest of the town, talking to almost every one of its less than one-hundred inhabitants.  Around mid-afternoon Harley slyly asks James if they should stay the night in Milbourne, reminding James that they were kicked out of the inn.  Frustrated that they have no leads (and cursing the DM for forcing them to roleplay instead of kill, grr!) they mount up to go back to Milbourne so they can get to the inn before sunset.  As they ride off, they spot a carrier pigeon flying overhead, heading toward the Thornwood.  It looks as if the pigeon came from somewhere inside the swamp, and beyond the swamp is mountains, so its unlikely it came from beyond the swamp.  

A quick discussion later they decide to try to shoot it down, but it’s too far up, and it flies over the river so they can’t chase after it.  Realizing they can’t keep track of it, they instead tell both Tauster and Nikal to be on the lookout for more carrier pigeons, and that if Inzeldrin (the green Dragon who lives in the Shreiken Mire) comes to town, tell her someone is probably hiding in her domain, and that she can find them by flying after the carrier pigeons.

Having done all they can, they ride with modest haste back to Milbourne.  They get in as the sun is setting, and since Allar isn’t back yet, Harley is finally able to get to sleep early, threatening to harm James if he wakes her up before sunrise.  She doesn’t plan to get up until mid-afternoon, unless Allar shows up.



Harley wakes up feeling well rested and refreshed.  She gets ready to go to the wash house and take a nice, cleansing bath, getting out a cotton robe that she bought in the city of Seaquen, that she hasn’t worn for a long time.  

When she takes the secondary staircase that leads out to the bath house, she realizes it’s still dark outside.  Groaning, she realizes that James has acclimated her to waking up early.  Despite her frustration, she goes on with her bath, realizing at least she’ll have privacy.  And when she finishes, dries off, and gets dressed, she goes to wakes up James, getting to him only ten minutes too late.  James calls her an ingrate for not appreciating that he was going to let her sleep.

The day develops peacefully, and the morning’s drinking competition primarily is a face off between James and Roth (James wins).  Old Grizzler admits that he has built a miniature brewery under his home, but how he manages to make so much Dwarven spirits every day is unknown.  Since Allar isn’t due back until the evening, though, they’re content to relax, Vic and Bhur thinking up magical tactics they could use together.

Little happens for the rest of the day, and everyone boredly awaits Allar’s return.  Then, around the time when it should be getting dark, someone points out that the sky to the south is brighter than it ought to be.  The party is curious, but they don’t bother to look until later, around sunset, when someone outside starts shouting.  They rush outside into the dimming light and see a red haze on the southern horizon, as if the sun were somehow rising beyond the Thornwood.  Then they realize what everyone’s really in the commotion about.  Oleane has arrived, standing on the far shore of the Churnette River.  Her body and gear are burnt, and she’s sorely wounded, having to lean on the side of her wolf companion for support.

Harley and Roth rush out to try to help her cross the river, while James clears the crowd away.  Bhurisrava waits at the shore, preparing to heal her if she’s seriously injured, but with the foresight that he might not be able to spare it if they’re about to be threatened themselves.

When they finally get her to the near shore, Oleane begins to panic.  Too weak to run away, she cowers nervously beneath the stares of so many people, more people than she has probably ever seen in one place before.  James yells for everyone to back off, and Harley’s able to calm Oleane down enough that the Druid is able to state, in jagged speech, “Allar and I were . . . attacked.  Fire monster.  Allar was hurt.  I took him to my home, but the forest is on fire.  Fire monster . . . burned everything when it died.”

Oleane’s information passes through the crowd, and someone shouts in horror, “Jenneleth and John are in the woods!”  They quickly learn that apparently Jenneleth (Tauster’s apprentice) and her fiance had gone into the forest to collect materials for Jenneleth’s potions, and that they might be in danger from the fire.  After a few moments longer of talking to Oleane, they figure out that the monster that attacked was some sort of imp or demon with wings, that attacked, then exploded when Allar managed to kill it.  Oleane managed to drag Allar back to her grove, where he lies horribly burned and near death, even after she tried to heal him.  She was too weak to carry him any farther, so she came for help.  

The fire will reach the grove by morning if it’s not stopped.


----------



## RangerWickett (Jan 16, 2002)

*Veiling Flames, Part Two*

A loud argument breaks out among the townsfolk, and Oleane cringes in fear at the sudden loud noises.  Some people want to just let the forest burn down, seeing no problem.  Others shout that Allar, Jenneleth, and John are in those woods, so they have to at least rescue them.  A few even try to make people understand that they need the forest for firewood, and for hunting.  While they shout and debate, Harley, James, Roth, Bhurisrava, and Victorious move onto the half-built bridge that crosses part of the Churnette River.  It’s the farthest they can get from the shouting crowd.

They all agree, even Bhurisrava, that they have to rescue Allar and the others.  James doesn’t care very much about the woods themselves, but Harley and Bhurisrava (both Elves) and Roth (a woodsman) make it clear that they have to try to stop the fire if possible.  If nothing else, Roth says, there are other people in the woods, with other houses.  They’re in danger.

Bhurisrava tends to Oleane, and Harley tries to keep her calm and soothed while they try to think of things to do.  Though Victorious is a water mage, he cannot control enough magic to put out more than a few small sections of the fire.  They consider trying to get help from Tauster, but by the time they got to Thurmaster and back it would already be too late.  

“What about that water elemental?” James asks.  “The one those dam Goblins had?  Could it help?”

Vic shrugs.  “I don’t know.  Maybe, but it has to stay near a body of water at all times, or it’s powerless.”

Bhurisrava, who had paid attention while he and Allar were at the dam, says, “Didn’t that bird woman, Shasta, say that the ring was linked to water somehow?”

Harley nods.  “I asked her about it.  She said it taps directly into the elemental plane of water.  So, that means if we had the ring, we’d be able to bring the elemental with us, right?”

“But then what?” Vic asks.  “If it touches that much fire, it will just burn itself up.  It was a big elemental, but not big enough.”

Bhurisrava shrugs.  “If the ring is water, can’t the bastard just draw more water out of the ring as it gets burned?  Of course, I’d have to stay close to it with the ring if I wanted to let the elemental do that.”

“You aren’t having the ring,” James states clearly.  He gestures to Harley.  “We’ll go get the ring from the dam Goblins.  You two, since you can cast your own spells, go with anal leakage girl here and try to keep Allar safe.  Roth, go with them and make sure they’re safe.  When we get the ring back, . . . Vic will have it.”

Harley nods and adds, “Be on the look out for whenever Jenny and her fiance are.  And make sure there’s someone waiting for us at the edge of the woods in a couple hours, to guide us to Oleane’s grove.  We’re no good if we get lost.”

“You mean you’re good otherwise?” Bhurisrava jokes, grinning.

They head out immediately.  As they leave, they see Old Grizzler trying to calm down a few hotheads who think the party is endangering Jenneleth’s and John’s lives.  The old Dwarf tells them to make themselves useful by riding to the farms on the edge of the forest and alerting the farmers to be careful.

Harley and James take their horses and ride northwest toward the Eelhold dam, where the Goblins are.  Bhurisrava, Vic, Roth, and Oleane cross the river again, heading south into the Thornwood.  As they let Oleane lead the way, Vic and Bhur laugh that finally they get to save Allar’s life.  Roth reminds them that this isn’t just a natural forest fire; some demon exploded to cause it.  That sobers them up.

*Harley and James, the dam Goblins and the bastard water elemental*
They gallop the seventeen miles to the Eelhold, not talking much.  It’s fully night when they arive, and the Goblins are having a large bonfire celebration, dancing and chortling.  James and Harley make themselves known to the Goblins, most of whom don’t speak Lyceian, but who understand that they want to see the chieftan.  Much shouting and insulting ensues as the Goblins complain about their party being disrupted.

When the chieftan of the tribe comes to them, Harley explains what they need, using small words.  The Goblin chieftan is, of course, incredulous.  He holds his position as tribal leader because of his control of the water elemental, and he won’t even consider letting someone else use the ring.

Harley corrects him.  “But you let Shasta . . . um, I mean Shiraz.  You let Shiraz use the ring to control the elemental.”

The Chieftan grimaces, then shrugs, demanding to know why he should bother trading.  It will be nice to get rid of the ranger Allar, who makes their lives difficult with restrictions.  If he’s going to give the two of them his ring, he demands something powerful in payment.  And he wants the ring back by tomorrow night.  And he wants to remind them that whatever they plan to pay him is payment, not a deposit.

James tells Harley he has a plan.  In the short run, it will involve giving the Goblin what he wants.  In the long run, though, it will involve coming back and beating the crap out of the dam Goblin for being so greedy.

Harley offers to pay the Chieftan with a magical crossbow that will always hit what you aim for.  Back in the forest church, where another Goblin tribe lived, Roth found a hidden cache with a magical light crossbow.  He gave Harley the crossbow, but she never learned how to use it (back in 2nd edition, crossbow was not a simple weapon).  Now it would be useful, finally.

Then the Goblin says something horrible.

“Prove it.”

Harley almost blanches, and recovers by trying to smooth talk the Goblin into buying it, but the Chieftan demands to see that it really is magical like she claims.  He grabs one of his tribesman, then gets an orange and puts it on the Goblin’s head.  

Seeing that something interesting is going on, the rest of the dam Goblin tribe stops its reveling at the bonfire and turns its attention to the tall visitors.  Harley gets nervous, wondering what the Goblin chieftan has planned.

In his harsh, high-pitched voice, the chieftan commands, “You will shoot the orange.  Walk with me.  Two hundred paces.”

“Um,” Harley gulps, “aren’t you worried that I might hit your man?”

“You say you gonna miss?  With ‘magic’ bow?”

Harley shrugs, hiding her worry easily.  “No, no.  Not . . . not at all.  I just thought you might be worried, since you don’t trust me.  You must already realize that it’s magic.”

The Chieftan laughs, and they stop two hundred (Goblin-sized) paces from the target.  About three hundred feet away, all told.  Harley smiles weakly, then tries to hand the crossbow to James, so he can shoot.  James shakes his head.

“Nuh uh.  You’ve got a better Dexterity.” (and it’s true, Harley has a 20 Dex, vs. James’s 13 Dex)

Sighing, Harley shrugs, realizing she has to try.  She recalls in the back of her mind what Bhurisrava had said back in Milbourne, commenting how she’s not any good.  A nervous twinge goes through her that she’ll miss, kill the Goblin, and cause the tribe to attack them.  She decides to aim a little high, so in case she misses, she won’t kill the poor fellow.

The Goblin chieftan shouts something, taking a few seconds, and the crowd around the Goblin with the orange parts quickly.  The chieftan say something more, and the lone Goblin with the orange winces, nods, and puts the orange on his head carefully.

James wishes Harley good luck, then takes a step back.

“Thanks a lot,” Harley mutters.  She takes aim, adjusts upward a notch just to be safe, and fires.

As she pulls the trigger, in the distance she sees the Goblin lose the balance of the orange.  It rolls forward off his head, and he catches it in his hands, level with his throat.  Harley gasps in relief, having an excuse for missing.  But then the bolt sinks into the orange, spraying the Goblin’s face with citrus.  The Goblin shrieks and falls to the ground, tossing the orange up into the air in shock.

The crowd of Goblins begins to laugh in delight, and Harley drops the crossbow, dumbfounded.  The Chieftan snatches the crossbow off the ground, clutching it quickly.  While Harley beams at her incredible luck, James steps close to the chieftan, towering over the short Goblin.

“Alright, you dam Goblin, hand over the ring.  We’ll bring it back to you by tomorrow night.”


*Bhurisrava, Victorious, and Roth encounter Nature*
Oleane and one of her wolves lead them through the brambled underbrush of the Thornwood.  Oleane travels as quickly as the others can keep up, but it still takes them over three hours to reach her grove.  During the walk, Vic and Bhur both crack jokes to pass the time, most of their comments being lowly-muttered jokes about Oleane walking around naked with a wolf.  As far as they can tell, Oleane doesn’t understand the language well enough to know what they’re talking about.  As they get deeper into the woods, however, they can hear the distant roar of the fire, and smell ash on the wind, carried from perhaps twenty miles to the south.

Bhurisrava is about to complain again that he hates walking through the bristly brush when Oleane turns a corner around a large tree, and vanishes.  Sputtering, Bhurisrava runs after her, looking to his left when he passes the tree.  As soon as he does, he sees all around him a verdant, grassy grove, self-lit from a glowing spring in its middle.  Tree boughs arc low above his head, but the grove is airy and wide despite being short.  Unfortunately, Bhur doesn’t understand how it is there, because from his current perspective, he should have been walking through the grove for the past minute or so.  Also, he can Oleane and her wolf walking toward a low flat stone, and there is some other woman sitting near the stone, but he can’t see Roth or Vic behind him.

Curiously, he takes three steps backward in the direction he came, turning back around the tree.  When he does, he loses sight of the grove.  Vic bumps into him and tells him to keep moving, and when Bhur turns to look at Vic, he can see both the water mage and Roth, but no sign of the grove.

“Weird,” he mutters, then walks back into the grove.

When Roth and Vic follow Bhur, they each have a similar doubletake when they see the grove appear illogically.  The woman sitting near the stone chuckles softly, the sound of her voice filling the grove like music.  They walk toward her and Oleane, and as they approach, they see that Allar is lying on the stone pallet, bright red burns covering his upper body.  His right arm is burned more darkly, the cloth fused into his flesh.

Bhurisrava immediately kneels next to Allar, concentrating to draw divine healing with his touch.  Allar’s gasping breath eases, and some of the more minor wounds are healed, but Allar doesn’t awaken.  He’s still in shock from near death.

Once they’re confident that Allar is safe, they turn their attention to Oleane and the other woman present.  The second woman is very slender, long-necked and smooth-skinned, dressed in a dark robe that looks almost like woven morning dew.  Her skin has a slight green cast, but her hair and eyes are both hazel.  They notice with some nervousness that she seems to have small brambles jutting from the long, sweeping strands of her hair.  

The nymph introduces herself as “the local forest spirit, but you can call me Brookthorn.”

They make their mutual introductions, then get to the business of how to find Jenneleth and her fiance John.  Oleane calls a few birds from the trees and asks them to search the area, starting near the fire to the south and moving northward.  As they talk, Roth stares eagerly at Brookthorn, but he seems so innocently impressed that she just laughs in amusement.

Brookthorn empathizes with the danger to the human couple, and tries to help by explaining the local terrain within a few miles.  There is a modest-sized stream to the west, and a small ravine southwest of that.  To the east is an area with many older trees, and denser foliage.  Somewhat to the south, between the grove and the fires, is a clearing that is open to the sky.  When Brookthorn mentions that the clearing is not far from an abandoned human hut, Bhurisrava and Roth realize it is probably the same grove where they fought the Illithid a few days earlier.

Vic asks where a wizard might want to go to collect spell components in the woods, things like mandrake roots, nightshade, poison ivy, or fallen pine.  Brookthorn replies that the most likely place is probably to the west, near the stream, and so they decide to head west.  Oleane says a wolf will find them if she gets any information.  They should follow a wolf if it approaches them.  She’ll also send a wolf to the forest’s edge to wait for James and Harley.

Bhurisrava checks on Allar one more time, guesses that the man will probably be able to walk with another hour or two of rest, then leads the way out.

They have a harder time with the brambles now that Oleane isn’t leading the way, so it takes them almost another hour to reach the stream.  Aided by a light spell from Vic, Roth is able to spot some horse hoofprints in a few spots near the bank, leading in the direction of the ravine.  They check the stream for a few more minutes, then move on toward the ravine.  As they leave the waters of the stream, they can see flames on the south horizon, glowing above the treeline.  The inferno is less than three miles away.

Roth loses the trail in the dark woods, but they keep pressing west, and eventually come upon a long, ten foot wide ravine that stretches hundreds of feet in either direction.  It looks as if the earth had just been torn open, leaving a gaping wound here.  After a moment of looking around, Bhurisrava spots movement in the bottom of the ravine.  About fifteen feet down, wedged in a narrow spot of the ravine, are Jenneleth, her fiance John, and their horse.

They call out to the couple, and Jenneleth stirs, groaning.  The horse makes a noise as well, but it sounds like a painful mixture of a winny and a whimper.  They discover that when Jenneleth and John spotted the fire in the distance, they tried to ride back to Milbourne, but in the dark their horse did not spot the ravine.  It stumbled in, tumbling sideways, managing to trap both of the riders halfway under it.  Jenneleth jokes that out of the three of them, there are probably at least five broken legs.

John waves weakly, thanking them for coming out to look for them.  He looks fairly haggard; he managed to drag himself out from under the horse, but with two broken legs he wasn’t able to climb out.  He was worried that they would be trapped there when the fire reached the ravine.

Roth climbs down into the ravine gingerly, lifting the horse enough so Jenny can drag herself free.  One of her legs is broken as well, and she twisted the ankle on the other foot in the fall.  Vic and Roth cooperate to pull the couple up to the top of the ravine.  

Bhurisrava holds off healing them, however, saying that he has a plan.  He wants to heal Jenny enough that she’s able to ride the horse and limp if necessary, and he’ll use most of his healing energy on the horse.  It will be able to get them to Milbourne faster than if he healed both Jenny and John just a little each and let them limp.  Bhurisrava, Roth, and Vic are too busy to go with them, so they need to get to safety on their own.  Also, Bhurisrava has already lost three horses while in the Haranshire, so he doesn’t want the poor creature to die if he can avoid it.

Roth finds a very sturdy branch, flings a rope over it, and uses the branch as a pulley to lift the horse out of the ravine.  Bhurisrava heals it, and then they get it to firm ground.  Bhur manages to calm the creature enough for Jenny and John to get back onto it, and then they guide the steed around the ravine to safety.  Jenny promises to try to come back if she can, but she’ll need at least 8 hours to prepare new spells.

Bhurisrava laughs, saying that in another 8 hours, the fire will probably already have reached Milbourne.

The couple rides off cautiously, not wanting to fall into any more ravines, and Roth, Bhur, and Vic head back toward Oleane’s grove.  When they’re crossing the stream, they hear the howling of a wolf to the north of them, close, and they wait to see if anything happens.  Less than five minutes later, they see several figures approaching through the woods, two mounted on horseback, and one a huge, dark shape, standing over fifteen feet tall.


*Opposing Adventurers*
Vic’s first line upon seeing Harley and James guiding the elemental is, “Gimme the ring.”

James shakes his head.  “This thing tried to kill us when we first got it.  It doesn’t like being controlled, and the moment I take off the ring, he’s going to try to break free.  I can’t make him move more than fifty feet away, but that’s probably enough.”

James turns to the elemental.  “Go forty feet upstream and stay there until you get another command.”

The elemental’s voice gurgles deeply in reply, steaming with anger, “When I have my freedom I shall kill all of you.”

“That thing’s a bastard,” Roth laughs.

Once the elemental is far enough away, James takes off the ring and hands it to Vic.  As soon as the ring leaves James’s finger, they hear crashing in the distance as the elemental rushes toward them.  Vic quickly takes the ring and puts it on, raising his hand triumphantly.  

The elemental keeps charging.

“You have both rings on your same hand!” Harley shouts, and Vic’s mouth drops open.  He put the elemental control ring on the same hand he wears his normal elementalist’s ring (he can only cast spells if he has his ring on).

Quickly, Vic yanks off the elemental control ring and puts it on the other hand, but just as he slides it on, the elemental slams a fist of water toward James.  James, still mounted, can’t dodge, but his horse takes the brunt of the hit.  The blow crumples the horse’s hips, and it falls to the ground.

“Stop!” Vic shouts, and the elemental stops moving.  It bubbles angrily, hovering over James, poised to strike.

“Get over here,” Vic commands.  “Do what I say, or it’ll be heck to pay.  Don’t make me put you back in the ring.”

James grimaces that his horse is injured, but Bhurisrava doesn’t want to risk using what little healing he has left.  Both Bhur and Harley state that they despise the elemental.  However, they have to use it, so they set off quickly on foot, following the stream southward toward the flames.  It takes them a few minutes to near the fire wall, but they are already sweating long before they reach it.  Flames sear the air, trees crackle as their insides burn, and ash and smoke fill the air.  

Vic has the elemental begin spraying water from itself onto the fire, trying to extinguish the flames little by little, and in the first minute they only manage to put out about a 15-foot by 15-foot patch.  Realizing the fruitlessness of trying to put out the entire miles-long line of fire, they angle away from the fire, into the woods in the direction of Oleane’s grove.  They know they can protect at least that much.

As they head through the woods, they spot a lot of wildlife fleeing the forest fire, which crisscross their path intermittently.  The animals give the elemental a wide berth, and Vic has to explicitly tell the elemental not to injure any animals unless he says otherwise.

They go about two miles, almost to where they want to be, when Bhurisrava feels the hair rise on the back of his neck.  He feels as though he just heard a call for help, and in curiosity he stops in his tracks and looks around.  Since Bhurisrava is at the back of the group, no one notices him lagging behind.

The rest of the group presses forward toward the clearing where they encountered the Illithid drone several days earlier, but when they reach the grove, they see a group of ten men waiting nervously, all armed and armored.

“Those are the guys from the tavern,” Harley says in surprise.  “The ones we took the treasure map from.  What the hell are they doing here?”

The men begin to advance on the party, holding their weapons ready.  From the trees behind them flaps a pair of dark crimson wings, and a small creature flies through the clearing, leaving a trail of smoke as it slices through the air.  One of the men says to his companions, “Those are the ones working with the ranger.  Time to earn our money, gentlemen.”

James and Roth ready their weapons, and Harley reaches for Ricochet.  Vic glances nervously back at the water elemental, which is deep enough in the trees that perhaps the mercenaries haven’t seen it yet.  But then Vic realizes that Bhurisrava is missing.

*	*	*

Bhurisrava follows the sound of the cries for help, wandering a few dozen feet off the path even though he knows that he shouldn’t split up with the others.  He pushes his way through the thorny brush for a half-minute, making out the cries more clearly.  He sees ahead of me what looks like it might be an overturned wagon, and despite the fact that he doesn’t think a wagon could have gotten this far into the forest, he moves forward to help.

He gets within ten feet of the shape, and sees . . . two things.  At the same time, he sees a large, fallen tree trunk, and also a large, fallen wagon, both seeming to occupy the same space at the same time.  He feels nervous suddenly, and starts to sweat, but then he realizes that it is the air that has suddenly gotten damper, as if the forest had grown more humid.  Shaking off his nervousness, he readies his warhammer and moves forward to look for the source of the cries.  He thinks he sees a crouching, huddled figure hiding under the wagon/log, and he bends down to look closer.

And pain washes over him.

He recognizes the sensation, like a wave of agony crashing across his body and pulling him into a deep darkness with its swirling undertow.  His body convulses for a moment, but then he shakes it off, knowing that he is in danger.  He rolls to the side desperately, struggling to force his muscles to pull him off the ground.  When he gets to his feet, he stands face to slimy face with another Illithid, cloaked in heavy black, an organic blade extending from its sleeve.  Unlike last time, it does not make any requests or give him a chance to negotiate.  Before Bhurisrava can ready his defenses, the robed creature glides forward through the trees and thrusts out with its blade, digging into Bhur’s arm.  

Bhurisrava gasps in pain and takes the lord’s name in vain as he tries to smash his warhammer at the Illithid.  But his muscles are feeling weak, and he has to fight with his will to bring his arms to swing the weapon.  His strikes are ineffective, while the Illithid’s repeatedly slip past his parries to strike him.  Rather than let himself be killed by a dozen small wounds, Bhurisrava runs, sprinting for the a nearby patch of high brambles and thorns.  Desperately he lunges, covering his face with his arm as he tears through the wall of sharply spiked foliage.  The pain is severe, but less than what he experienced when the Illithid telepathically attacked him a moment before.  He stumbles out the other side of the bramble bush and keeps running, glancing back long enough to see the Illithid get its heavy robe caught in the thorns.

Swearing under his breath, Bhur backtracks to find the trail, then runs at top speed after his friends, calling for help.

*	*	*

Standing about thirty feet apart, the two groups face off, waiting to make the first move.  A hundred feet to the south, a tree at the edge of the clearing crackles from the flames, and light suddenly flashes above the treeline.  In the glow of the flames, the mercenaries charge.

Harley shouts to Vic to have the elemental deal with the warriors first, then the fire, and so Vic orders the elemental to attack the men who came with the flaming imp.  The elemental crashes forward, and as it clears the treeline, some of the mercenaries hesitate nervously.  James and Roth rush in, staying close so the mercenaries can’t surround them.  James tries to take his own warrior and defeat him singly, but Roth is more pragmatic and double-teams with James to take down their opponents faster.

Harley tries hurling Ricochet at the imp, and the blade clips one of its wings before whirling away.  The imp snarls, flames bursting from its skin briefly, and it swoops downward toward her, its eyes glowing maliciously.  Vic thrusts out his hands, firing forth two bursting lines of frigid water smash.  They smash into the imp’s side, knocking it sideways so when it tries to strafe Harley it’s aim is off.  The three-foot long beast swerves to avoid a tree and flies upward over Harley and Vic’s heads.  As it flies through the trees, the leaves around it catch fire, and Vic and Harley quickly move away from the flaming trees.

As Roth and James slice their way into the mercenaries—Roth armed with a bastard sword and James armed with longsword called Ratbastard—the soldiers form a ring to surround them.  The leader of the group tells them to stay close so the wizard won’t be able to hit them without risking his allies, and his men comply, staying close, harrassing James and Roth.  Fortunately for them, the elemental wades in then, literally, splashing its body into two of the soldiers at once.  This clears a path for James and Roth, who quickly make a break to avoid being overwhelmed.  In just that brief moment, however, James has already been clubbed in the side of the face, and one of his eyes is blinded by blood running down his face.

James leads the run toward the fireline at the south side of the clearing.  He shouts for Vic to have the elemental follow them, to clear away any fires in his way.  The guards chase after them, trying to avoid the elemental.  As James and Roth rush into the treeline, the fires around them begin to flare intensely, but the heat makes most of the mercenaries wary of following them.  The leader of the mercenaries waves for his men to follow him, though, and he charges after Roth and James, heedless of the flames.  Three of his men follow him, while a few of the others shout for the imp to come fight the elemental.  The flaming imp chuckles and shrugs, then flies away from Harley and Vic to try and fend off the elemental.  It flies close to the ground, igniting even the grass as it passes.

Harley curses the thing for getting away, and she runs to recover her chakram (now her only ranged weapon since she gave the crossbow to the Goblins), while Vic trudges after the imp, hoping to aid his pet elemental.

The fires rage around James and Roth as they cross blades with the mercenaries.  The leader and one of his men goes after James, while the other two warriors take Roth.  James parries a few blows and with a kick shatters the kneecap of the one who is not the mercenary leader.  The wounded man groans and staggers sideways into a tree, searing his side and face in a branch covered with flaming leaves.  Unfortunately, James can’t block the commander’s sword, and the blade slashes across his belly, ripping the chainmail and cutting shallowly across his flesh.  James keeps his footing, confident that he can take the commander, when he notices that in fact the rest of the mercenaries were not cowards.  Rather, four of the remaining men are trying to flank him and Roth, picking a precarious path through the burning underbrush.

The heat from the flames warms Roth’s blood, and he grins eagerly as he slams his bastard sword against the parrying blades of his two opponents.  One of the soldiers sidesteps around his guard and stabs Roth in the kidney, but he ignores the injury and retaliates by shoving the man off his feet and into a flaming thornbush.  The other warrior’s attacks are all blocked by Roth’s chainmail, but reinforcements are coming.

Vic runs up to alongside the elemental and commands it to help the fight in the forest, but the imps flies in then and spits a bolt of fire into the elemental’s face.  The elemental sizzles with steam and tries to grab the imp out of the air, but the small demon is too quick for the huge elemental’s grasp.  Vic again shouts for the elemental to ignore the imp and go help James, but just as it begins to slosh forward, Bhurisrava bursts out of the woods, calling for help.

Vic turns to look at Bhur, smiling momentarily until he realizes that he had been attacked.  Before Vic can ask a question, though, Bhurisrava runs up and shouts, “Give me the ring!  I need that elemental!”

“What?” Vic balks, trying to point out the fight in which James and Roth are in trouble, but Bhur’s wild and desperate expression convinces him.  He slips off the ring and manages to give it to Bhurisrava before the elemental can retaliate at them.

Bhurisrava begins to run back into the woods, shouting for the elemental to follow.  They rush away at a sprint, the elemental demolishing a wide trail in the forest as it pursues Bhur.

Harley recovers her chakram and runs toward the fight in the flaming forest.  The soldiers are trying to move through the flames slowly, but Harley sees James and Roth in danger, leaving her no luxury of caution.  She tumbles over and under flaming logs and branches, slipping sideways between narrow trees and dodging falling fiery debris, getting herself into the perfect position to catch the soldiers off guard.  Amid the roar of the flames, they don’t hear approach, so she sprints up next to one and stabs him in the back with her dagger, then leaps upward to a non-flaming branch, swinging out reach of the mercenaries.  They turn in surprise and try to slash at her, but miss widely.

James steels himself for a fight on two fronts, but when the others do not come up from behind, he redoubles his attack on the commander.  They attack, parry, counterattack, counterparry, and drive each other back and forth through the searing heat of flames.  One of James slashes bashes through the man’s guard and slashes across his forearm, and in pain the commander drops his sword.  James slashes again at the man, but he sidesteps behind a tree that blocks James’ sword.

Nearby, Roth ignores the opponent who is still standing so he can pull the fallen man out of the flaming bush.  The man is screaming, the fires searing his entire, but Roth shoves him away to a relatively safe location so he can put himself out.  For his generosity, he’s repaid by the other soldier stabbing him in the stomach.  Roth swerves his body to dodge most of the hit, and the blade just slashes shallowly instead of piercing his belly.

James pulls his sword out of the tree and tries again to hit the commander, but before he can he feels something gouge at the back of his head.  Clenching his teeth in anger, he swings his sword blindly backward over his head, clipping the imp as it strafes past him.  He realizes that his hair is on fire, and is about to take a moment to put out the flames when he sees the commander sprint out from behind the tree and snatch up his sword for attack.  Feeling his scalp burning, James parries a blow aimed for his throat, then staggers backward, shouting for Vic.

Vic, in the middle of casting another watery spray attack, sees James in need but cannot stop his spell in mid-casting.  He shouts for James to duck, and then fires in James’s direction, two sprays of arctic water lashing outward through the trees toward the commander.  James ducks, and one spray hits him a glancing blow in the back of the head, while the other flies slightly higher, catching the mercenary leader in his chest.  The man falls turns with the impact, but is too off balance to attack James as he pushes himself off the ground.

When James gets back to his feet, he pats his head briefly.  It stings, but the fires are out.  Despite the painful impact from Vic’s attack spell, James shouts out a curt, “Thanks,” before rejoining the battle.

One of the soldiers beneath Harley shouts for the imp to get her, since she’s out of reach of their blades.  Harley cringes slightly as she sees the imp changes its course in mid-air to face her.  It begins to swoop toward her, flying through the roaring fire unhindered.  When it is still thirty feet away she hurls Ricochet at it, but the cover of the tree branches stops the attack.  That gives her an idea, though, and she clambers around the trunk of the tree, balancing nimbly to avoid the flames that engulf most of the branches.  The imp makes one strafe that misses, then turns to make another pass.  As it banks to face her, Harley grabs a thin long branch and heaves back, bending it back.  The imp snarls eagerly, claws outstretched to slash her, but right before it can reach her, Harley releases the branch, letting the limb snap lengthwise back, cracking into the imps face and hurling it away into the trees.  It falls into a heap of bushes, which immediately catch flame.

The four soldiers beneath Harley have broken off from her, and half run to aid their commander while the other half head after Roth.  One of the mercenaries trying to aid the commander falls unconscious when a burning tree limb falls from overhead and clobbers him in the face, bursting into cinders at it hits the ground.  The other soldier with him pauses to push the flaming limb off his friend, giving James another moments reprieve before he is outnumbered.

Roth, however, does not fare so well.  The opponent still in front of him distracts his attention so he doesn’t notice the two men coming in from behind.  Roth swings fiercely at the soldier, hitting him hard and almost dropping him, but then the two flanking soldiers strike, one stabbing Roth in the back with a shortsword while the other slashes him in the back of his forearm.  Roth roars in pain, dropping his weapon and slumping forward.

Harley sees Roth in pain and is about to go try to help him when she sees the imp begin to climb its way out of the flaming leaves.  She aims her dagger for a throw to finish it off, then remembers what happened to the last imp when Allar killed it.

James engages the commander and one of his other men, and just as their blades clash together he hears Harley shout, “James, run for your life!”

Incredulous for a moment, James takes a moment to thrust kick into the commander’s gut before turning and running out of the flaming woods.  In the trees overhead he hears Harley leaping desperately through the inferno of branches and leaves to get away from the imp.  Then from behind there is a brief, hideous shriek, followed by a thunderous explosion.  The blast knocks Harley out of the branches and onto the grass of the clearing, and knocks James off his feet.  The flames spread out in a huge burst that engulfs the commander and his aiding man, and the concussion also knocks over the three soldiers around Roth.

A whistling sounds in the air, and Harley’s dagger tumbles overhead, landing in the ground, knocked out of the imp’s body when it exploded.

James rolls over and slowly gets up.  Looking at Harley, he shouts, “Idiot!”

When Harley gets to her feet, she’s smiling sheepishly.

Vic, who had been out of the blast radius, runs up to help them, using a cantrip to put out the flames licking on the edges of Harley’s clothes.  He’s about to congratulate her, but Harley shakes her head, looking around for Roth.  As the smoke clears from the explosion, they see two haggard soldiers holding up Roth’s semi-conscious body, a sword lain across his throat.

*	*	*

Bhurisrava bolts through the trees, reaching the Illithid only moments after it manages to extricate its tangled robes from the thorn wall.  Bhurisrava pauses for dramatic effect, long enough that he knows the Illithid has seen him, then thrusts out his ring-bearing hand.

“Kill the Illithid!”

The water elemental crashes through the trees, smashing a watery fist at the Illithid.  It takes the blow to its face, and the force actually tears off one of its tentacles.  Squealing in pain, the Illithid steps away in confusion, then tries to move past the elemental to get at Bhurisrava.  Bhurisrava has his warhammer ready, and catches the floating mind flayer in the face.  The thing’s cheek cracks, but it raises its armblade for a downward chop.  Before it can attack, however, the elemental’s hand snaps out and grabs the Illithid’s head.  Its fingers begin to swirl and surround the Illithid’s entire face, and then it draws its arm back into its body, fully engulfing the creature in water.

Bhurisrava steps back, an impressed grin on his face.  He sees the surface of the elemental shudder, like its tensing its muscles, and inside the watery body, the Illithid’s body begins to twist in unnatural angles.  With a dulled crack, the Illithid’s head begins to twist too far sideways, breaking its neck.  But an instant later, just before the Illithid would die, the elemental takes a stunned step backward, then collapses, its body splashing to the ground in a huge, flat puddle.  Bhurisrava figures that the creature telepathically stunned it, so he advances quickly to finish the Illithid can counterattack.

The Illithid sloshes forward clumsily, its body mangled from the force of the elemental’s crush, but somehow still managing to function.  It reaches a tree stump and pulls itself halfway to its feet, then looks up to see Bhurisrava towering over it, warhammer raised in one hand.  With an apologetic shrug, the priest smashes down and crushes the Illithid’s skull.

Bhurisrava gloats for a moment before he starts to head back to help the others.  He stops briefly to see if he can tell whether the elemental is alive anymore, and he notices that the sky is growing light, light from day, not light from the fire.  He suddenly feels very tired, realizing he must have been up all night looking through the woods.

He is about to head off when he hears a branch creak nearby overhead.  He turns in surprise, just in time for something heavy and slimy to smash into his chest.  He looks down in confusion, realizing that the glob of slime is keeping his warhammer arm stuck to his chest.  He tries to pull free, but the glob begins to stretch out, little threads unraveling to spread around him.

“Elemental!  You bastard, get up and help me!”

Another bolt hits him, this time catching his hip and a nearby tree trunk.  As he looks closer in the slightly bright light of predawn, he realizes that the threads aren’t stretching out on their own, but rather dozens of small spiders are spinning the threads into a web around him.  He looks around desperately and calls for help, trying to pull himself free, but the webs stick him fast to the tree.

A dark shape moves in a branch ten feet up and a few feet away.  It creeps forward, bending the branch low, then curls forward and drops to the ground slowly, almost like a huge spider descending from its web.  Then the form rises up, and Bhur recognizes it as a woman’s form, heavily covered, a veil over her face.

“Hey lady?  Help me?”

She shakes her head, reaching up and pulling a long spear off the branch overhead.  The blade at the end is single-edged and slightly curved, and its haft is almost solid black.  Holding it lightly in one hand, she walks toward him.  He can’t make out her face, but her posture makes it clear that she plans to kill him.

Unable to move, and with his weapon pinned to his chest, Bhurisrava screams for help.

*	*	*

“Now you don’t want your friend to die,” the soldier shouts, his voice haggard and worried, “and we don’t want ours to die.  If you drop your weapons, and let us leave with our friends, we’ll let your friend here live.”

To emphasize that they’re in danger, an entire tree cracks from the flames that have eaten at it.  It snaps near its base and nearly falls on top of the unconscious mercenary commander.  Only another tree in its way stops the fall.

James looks momentarily at the fallen tree, then shrugs.  “If you kill him, we’ll kill you.”

Vic nods.  “Yeah, it’s not like we . . . y’know, like him or anything.”

“Shut up,” Harley snaps at them.  “It’s not worth risking Roth’s life.

“Let him go,” she says back to the mercenaries, “and we’ll let you go.”

The two mercenaries let go of Roth.  One rushes to try to help their leader, while the other pulls the man who had caught on fire to his feet.  Harley rushes forward, not carrying any weapons, and tries to drag Roth out of the fire.  Vic comes over warily, ready to cast a spell if the soldiers try any tricks, but they seem content to also just drag their friends safe from the reach of the fire.  

Harley shouts for Bhurisrava to come heal Roth, but Bhur is no where to be seen.  James comes up beside Vic and asks where the hell is their water elemental.  Vic replies that Bhur ran off with the elemental, but didn’t say why.  He points at the wide path torn through the trees by the elemental’s passing, and James breaks into a run toward it.  Harley tells Vic to go to, and she stays there to try and tend to Roth’s various injuries.

Harley waits helplessly, watching the soldiers shamble away to a safe area of the clearing.  As James and Vic run down the path, the flames of the forest fire lick at their heels, setting the trees along the path ablaze.

*	*	*

Hoping to stall, Bhurisrava tries to engage the woman in conversation.  The sky is growing bright, both from the fire and from the early morning sun.

“Why do you want to kill me, huh?  Was that squiddy thing there your pet?”

The woman tenses, glancing once at the mangled hump of Illithid flesh that lies next to a tree stump.  She turns back to Bhurisrava and leans close to him.  Through the veil, he sees that her eyes glow a bright red, and that her skin is a dark grey.

“You’re . . . a dark Elf, aren’t you?  Well, that would explain the veil.”

She very meticulously uses the blade of her spear to slash along Bhurisrava’s leg.  Because of the webbing, he can squirm and scream in pain, but he can’t dodge out of the way.

“Tell me where the ranger is, and I’ll let you live.”

Bhurisrava chuckles weakly, the pain making him feel cold.  “Don’t you think it’s impolite to get this close without telling me your name first.”

Bhurisrava’s gaze sweeps over the woman’s body, lingering on her hips and breasts.  He hears her snarl in anger, and then she punches him in the face.  After his head snaps to the side, he shakes off the stun and prays, “Lord, forgive me for my lust.  But I mean, she’s leaning right at me.”

“I can gouge out your eyes so you never lust again, light Elf.”

Bhur shakes his head desperately.  The dark Elf woman flashes a dark smile across her purple lips, then digs the nails of her hand into the back of Bhurisrava’s neck.  “Tell me where to find the ranger.”

An uncontrollable shudder runs up Bhur’s spine as she touches him; he’s always been sensitive around the back of his neck.  He manages to shake off the feeling, though, and asks, “Why do you care about him?  You already have the stupid book.”

“I’m feeling compassionate, and so I’ll give you one last chance to tell me.  The fire is getting very close, and this wand has enough charges that you won’t be able to get free in time.”

Bhurisrava curses, then weakly tries to kick her, but his reach is limited by the webbing.  Helplessly, he shrugs.  “My friends will stop you before you can get to him.  He . . . he’s in a hut, east of here.  It used to belong to a woodsman, and that naked wilderness girl took him there after your imp exploded.  After your ‘ex, imploded?’  Heh.”

The dark Elf woman smiles maliciously, then leans in close, pressing the blade of her polearm to his neck, staring eye to eye through her veil.  Bhur gulps, and the blade cuts across his neck as his throat bobs up and down.

Suddenly, a rustling comes from nearby as the elemental begins to regain control of itself.  The dark Elf half-turns to look, pulling away her blade just far enough.  Straining, Bhurisrava presses against the bonds of the webbing and lunges forward, biting the edge of the veil on her face.  He clamps his teeth down and yanks back, tearing the veil from her face.  She stumbles back in shock, slashing at Bhur defensively.  The cut digs into his weapon arm, but he is still too stuck even to properly wince in pain.  Instead, he spits out the veil and shouts, “Water elemental, get ‘er!”

The water elemental lifts a few feet off the ground, still not fully in control of itself, and before it can move against her, the dark Elf slashes her blade through the air in a quick dance.  Bhur can feel magic flow from her into the elemental, and suddenly Bhurisrava’s savior falls back to the ground.  The woman turns back to Bhurisrava, squinting in the bright light of the forest fire.  Her red eyes reflect the flames.

James appears at the edge of Bhur’s line of sight, and he calls for James’s help desperately.  The dark Elf stabs at Bhurisrava quickly to shut him up, then backs up defensively.  Fortunately for Bhurisrava, she only scraped his side, but he feigns death so she won’t try to use him as a hostage.

James bursts out of the woods, sword ready to swing, but the dark Elf draws her wand and fires a mass of webbing at his feet.  He manages to get one foot free, but the other is stuck to the ground, tripping him.  She moves forward to strike him while he’s down, but then Vic appears behind James.  He skids to a stop and shouts out the words to a spell, holding forth his elementalist’s ring.  The dark Elf woman very briefly feels thirsty, but her innate magic shunts the spell aside.  She lackadaisically fires another charge of the wand at Vic, pinning his upper body to a tree.

“Tell me where the ranger is!” she snarls, raising her spear to behead James.  Only one of James’s feet is caught, however, and he rolls to the side, parrying the killing blow so it strikes the ground beside him.

Meanwhile, barely hesitating, Vic digs his hands weakly into the pouch at his waist.  He doesn’t have much movement for his arms, and thus can’t cast any spells, but he knows the properties of liquids very well, and alcohol cancels the adhesiveness of webbing.  Triumphantly he pulls out the last of the Dwarven spirits Old Grizzler had given him, and he sprays himself with the fluid.  The mind-numbingly powerful alcohol (in more ways than one) quickly begins to weaken the web-like glob, and Vic struggles to free himself.  

Bhurisrava realizes that something is going on, so he squints and opens his eyes enough to see James struggling while on the ground to fight off the dark Elf, and Vic by the tree, freeing himself heroically from the web.  Dropping the act of being dead, Bhurisrava shouts, “Cast a light spell.  Her veil is off!”

With one surge of strength, Vic tears the weakened webbing, and raises his hand to display his ring.  A flare of light appears directly in front of the woman’s eyes, surprising her and putting her off guard.  Vic rushes forward and shoves her off her feet, then magically conjures a spray of alcohol over James’s foot to free him.  At the same time, the elemental begins to overcome whatever spell the dark Elf woman used on it, and it rises ominously, towering behind James and Vic.

The dark Elf woman backflips to her feet, nearly slipping out of disorientation.  The flames of the forest are fiercely bright, and in the sky overhead the stars are fading out to daylight.  She sees a huge shadow cast before her from the elemental, and desperately, she slashes at both James and Vic.  From the tip of her blade she conjures a bolt of flame that sears between them and into the elemental’s chest, and though Vic and the elemental are bunred, James twists to the side out of its path.  He hooks his left arm around the shaft of the polearm, using his body as a fulcrum to snap the weapon out of the dark Elf’s grip.  She gasps when she loses her weapon, then backs off nervously.

James tosses the weapon to the ground and raises his sword to strike, but the woman leaps away, thrusting out her wand toward the trees.  A line of web spins out and grabs a high branch, and she pulls herself upward into the trees.  James tries to leap after her, but she leaps to a yet higher branch.  He loses her in the haze of the smoke.

James curses, then helps Vic extricate Bhurisrava from the webbing.  As they rush back to where Roth and Harley are, Bhur and Vic tell each other what happened.  Bhur tells the elemental to begin putting out the fires to stop at least part of the burn, so that Oleane’s grove will be safe.  When they get to the clearing, Bhur uses the last of his healing magic to keep Roth from dying, and James tosses the dark Elf woman’s spear to Harley for safe-keeping.  James shoulders Roth and carries him back to the general location of Oleane’s grove, escorted by Vic.  Harley, Bhurisrava, and the elemental stay behind to manage the extinguishing of the fires.  The whole time they do so, Bhur comments continually about how much he’s going to love having this water elemental for a pet.  After about two hours, it begins to seriously disturb Harley.

A few hours later, a wearied, sleepless Bhurisrava and Harley find their way back to Oleane’s grove.  James is still awake, watching over Vic and Allar while they doze.  Oleane herself has apparently left to try and track the dark Elf woman, but since most of the terrain has been scorched, she’ll probably have little luck.  Brookthorn is singing softly and soothingly, and it’s all Bhurisrava can do to command the elemental to sit still and do nothing.  And so Bhurisrava, Roth, Allar, Vic, and Harley sleep soundly, while James guards stoically, and the elemental stews motionlessly.

And then in the early afternoon, true to form, James wakes Harley up before she can even get six hours of sleep.


----------



## RangerWickett (Jan 16, 2002)

Aa a quick little intermission to your regular Tides of Homeland storyhour, we present

*Goblin GEEBA (Greatest Evilist Ever Battle Alliance)*

It's set in the same world as Tides of Homeland, but 300 years in the past.  After this chapter, please take another reading break, and if you have a significant other, tell that person that you love him or her before you even consider coming back here.



*Intermission:
The Greatest Goblin Alliance Ever*

Three hundred years ago, in the famous old country of Uragia, there formed the Goblin Greatest Evilest Ever Battle Alliance (Goblin GEEBA).  But there are many heroes of that era that no one ever hears about, heroes like: 


Carl and Herman, Goblin brothers in arms, Goblin brothers.  Herman wields a pouchful of vicious daggers which he hurls at anyone who gets in his way.  His younger and slower brother Carl always carries his trusty, human-sized frying pan which serves alternately as a makeshift club, a makeshift drum, a makeshift shield, and, oh yeah, a makeshift frying pan.

Mia, priestess of Buggub, Goblin goddess of decay, and a keener wit you’ll never see in a Goblin (Mia thinks she’s smarter than her own goddess, actually).  Subtle and canny, she prefers a well-aimed poisoned dart than a whole swarm of attacking warriors.



Shiithead (pronounced “Shih-THEED”, and it should be spelled with just one "i", but the filter on these boards wouldn't let you see his name, then), proud and strong Troll warrior, though, like most of his companions, he’s a bit slow on the uptake.  When bored, he likes to pick at his own skin and watch the patterns that form as the flesh regenerates.  He’s big and ugly, with eyes that are a little buggy.  His goal in life, at least for now, is to find a big sword that he can use.

Gook Moop, flunky.  Everything is fun for Gook, and though he’s incompetent, he’s perhaps the most patriotic Goblin in the world, fiercely loyal to his goals and to his friends.

Laguna Varacay, human shadow mage and a student of Christoff Darkcross, the state mage of the nation of Uragia.  After a years-long feud with his old master, Varacay finally decided that only a thorough destruction of his master and his home would suffice.  He contacted Leriminsk, a black Dragon who had its sights set on Castle Uragia, and promised to deliver the castle to the Dragon.  Leriminsk arranged for Varacay to lead a group of Goblins in the conquest of the countryside.  Now, after weeks of sending waves of warriors to set the land into a panic, Varacay plans to personally supervise the final coup to capture Castle Uragia.  The Goblin leaders, though fairly inept, have promised to send their best warriors and spies to sneak into the castle, with a few bodyguards for defense.  But the night will not be over for Varacay until he finally can kill his old master.

Laguna’s just afraid that the Goblins don’t grasp the gravity of the situation.  Most of them just think it’d be nice to live in the human castle.


_Dramatis Personae_

Herman—1st level Goblin Fighter
Carl—1st level Goblin Rogue
Mia—5th level Goblin Druidess
Shiithead—1st level Troll Barbarian
Gook Moop—1st level Goblin Rogue
Laguna Varacay—11th level Human Wizard (shadow mage)


_Notable NPCs:_

Leriminsk—Mature Adult Black Dragon
Archibald Mortret—king of Uragia, 15th level Human Fighter
Christoff Darkcross—Laguna Varacay’s old mentor, 13th level Human Wizard

Castle Uragia, sitting on a rugged cliffside, overlooks the Bay of Umbranesti to the south.   To the north and west are heavy forests populated by Goblin tribes and various other monsters created over the centuries, but to the east is the city town of Castle Uragia, protected by high stone walls.  Laguna’s plan will lead his group of Goblins through the woods toward the castle, to the cliff on the south wall, and then through the narrow caves in the crumbling cliff’s stone.  These caves lead into the castle, where most of the guards, and the king himself, will currently be at High Mass in the Meliskan temple.

Laguna and his group set out just at sunset, with Shiithead staying close as his bodyguard.  He also talks regularly with Mia, the only intelligent person out of the group, as they plan tactics for the attack.  Mia’s bodyguards are Gook and Herman, since Carl is nowhere to be seen when it is time to leave.

They know scouts will be in the woods around the castle to prevent an attack just as the one they intend to make.  Though Herman is pretty sure they can just walk around any of the big ugly human guards, they need to get rid of the scouts first so that the Goblin army can prepare their approach without being noticed.  Shiithead smiles eagerly and goes trumbling through the woods like a gorilla, looking for humans to kill.  Gook smiles inanely that Shiithead is having so much fun, but then frowns when he realizes he’ll miss out on the fun, so he scampers after the big troll, desperately fighting to keep from dropping his light crossbow (one of the most advanced weapons in the Goblin army).  Herman runs after him, carrying the quiver of arrows Gook forgot.

For the first of many times this night, Laguna Varacay smacks himself on the forehead in embarrassment.

*	*	*	*	*

Gook scrambles up a tree, grinning wildly as Shiithead, still on the ground beneath him, waits to ambush an approaching rider.  Gook poises to attack, laying his crossbow across his knee to aim, squinting both his eyes to aim.  

The clip-clop of horse-hooves comes nearer, and Shiithead laughs deeply to himself.  The rider is a human scout from the castle—well-trimmed beard, nice armor, pretty horse, shiny small sword, keenly looking around for ambushes.  He spots Shiithead from ten feet away, then gasps in alarm as he wheels around to ride away.  Shiithead shouts, “You ain’t ruinin’ _my_ ambush,” and leaps forward, digging one hand’s worth of claws into the horse’s flank while grabbing the rider around the neck.  He drags the struggling pair with him toward Gook’s tree, and yells for Gook to attack.

Gook smiles and lifts his crossbow over his head two-handed, then jumps dramatically off the tree, shouting his battlecry, “Hoody-hoo!”  Landing on the horse’s back, Gook slams the crossbow down across the rider’s head, knocking him dizzy with a crack.  Little gibbering Gook finishes his attack by hopping down to the ground.

Shiithead sighs at Gook’s worthlessness, then crouches slightly to get leverage on the horse.  He grabs the two hinds legs of the horse, taking a few kicks to the face in the process, but then begins to spin, swinging the horse around him.

*	*	*

In the distance, Varacay and Mia hear the sound of a horse being bludgeoned to death echoing through the woods, accompanied by a man’s screams and the sounds of a tree being torn to pieces.  They rush forward, arriving just as Shiithead chucks the limp bag of horseflesh into the boughs of a low tree.  After blinking a few times, Laguna begins to smile, commenting, “My bodyguard is spectacular.”

Mia sees Gook and Herman trying to climb after the tree-bound horse so they can get some meat for Horse Jerky, and she quietly comments, “My bodyguards suck.”

More riders approach from the distance, galloping through the woods to come to the aid of their fallen companion.  Mia fires a well-aimed poisoned dart with her blowgun, which flies fifty feet through the trees and strikes one of the riders in the neck.  The man slumps off his horse and is trampled by the horses following behind him.  The humans shout their battlecries in the name of Uragia and charge into attack.

Gook screams, “Hoody hoo!” again and rushes forward with his battered and shattered crossbow, and Herman begins hurling daggers at the riders and horses.  Shiithead takes a more direct approach, pulling a fallen log off the ground and hurling it javelin-style at the face of one of the riders.  His aim is a little low, and the log instead smacks into the horse’s face.  The horse stops running, stands dazed for a second, then falls over on its side.

Laguna hangs back in the shadows, watching his warriors’ skills as they fight.  They function fairly well as a team:  the Goblins distract the warriors while the troll does all the hard work.  Mia even manages to do a good job with her darts.  The darkness remains undisturbed for the next few minutes as Laguna calmly watches the Goblins and Shiithead take on the steady flow of guards.  Eventually, eight horses and twelve humans lie dead or unconscious in a ring around the group.  Laguna comes out of hiding with a smirk on his face, watching Mia slit the throats of any human not yet quite dead.

Gook and Herman dance arm in arm in a circle, cheering Gook’s victory cry repeatedly (“Hoody-hoo!  Hoody-hoo!”) for a few minutes, until they realized Varacay is just staring at them in disgust.  Herman coughs and slinks away, while Gook holds out his hand, offering to dance.

“Time t’kill more stuff,” Shiithead says, trampling away eagerly toward the castle, and the rest of them follow close behind.  They skirt the forest, starting at the north of the castle and slowly sweeping toward the woods on the west of the castle, then finally toward the Umbranesti cliffs.  As they walk, Herman shares some strips of horse meat he managed to cut, and they eat and chatter quietly, most of their words being “geeba” (75% of the Goblin language is just the word ‘geeba’ said with different intonations).

When they get to the cliffs, Laguna cloaks himself in darkness and slids along the dark stones almost invisibly, looking for a suitable cave that will get them into the underbelly of the castle.  Meanwhile, Shiithead rushes toward the southern auxiliary wall of the castle, bringing Herman and Gook with him so they can attack.  The wall is several hundred feet long, fifteen feet tall, with three circular turrets that each have a few guards manning them.  Mia reluctantly follows, scuttling from shadow to shadow to get a good aim at the guards on the nearest tower.  She darts one, and then Gook and Herman begin climbing the stone wall toward them.

The two guards still conscious on this turret panic and draw their swords, but from below Shiithead hurls a skull-sized rock and cracks the head of one of the guards.  Gook and Herman begin attacking the remaining guard, until eventually Gook shoves the man off the side of the turret.  He falls with a scream and cracks his head against the cliffside.  Gook cringes at the noise, but doesn’t have much time to consider what he’s doing.  The next nearest tower’s guards have begun to run down the length of the wall toward Gook and Herman’s position.

Laguna, alerted by the sound of screaming, looks up from his cave searching to see their cover already being blown, so he snarls and casts a spell onto the length of wall between the two turrets.  The guard furthest ahead suddenly flares with fire, a short pillar of fire forming around him.  The two behind him scramble back toward their own tower.  Gook and Herman give a hoot and chase after them, as Mia points at the second tower and shouts at Shiithead, “Take them down, you cur!”

The guard who was caught in the fire is still standing, barely, but a slash from Herman gets a critical hit and severs the man’s foot.  He also screams, falling where he stands and groaning into unconsciousness.  Herman snatches up the flaming foot and stabs his sword into it, using it as a torch as he charges toward the second turret.

Shiithead takes Mia’s orders literally and begins digging his claws into the stone wall of the second turret.  Muttering something to himself that sounds slightly like, “Jenga Jenga Jenga,” Shiithead tears out stone after stone, tossing them backward down the cliffside.  The guards overhead rain arrowfire down at him, but to no avail.  Just as Herman and Gook are about to reach the second turret, the structure gives way from the damage Shiithead has inflicted.  With a resounding rumble, the rest of the stones crack, and the tower falls toward the cliff.  Shiithead steps back out of the way, and Laguna runs to make sure he’ll be out of the turret’s path as it begins a small landslide toward the bay below.  Laguna watches the limp bodies of two guards tumble with the shattered stonework, then turns to head for the new gap in the wall.

The guards on the third tower ready arrows and run close enough to get good shots at the group, but Herman draws back his sword and pitches the flaming foot toward them.  One critical hit later, the foot has stunned a man and set him on fire, which distracts the other two guards with him long enough for Gook, Herman, Shiithead, Mia, and Varacay to climb through the hole in the wall into cover.  As they rush through, Shiithead complains that he isn’t having any time to eat tonight.  All this regenerating is making him hungry.

The wall they have just breached surrounds a large training field, some small crops, and the royal garden.  There are very few guards here, and most of them are running toward the chaos at the south wall.  Varacay’s magic keeps the Goblins and Troll from being seen as they rush toward the garden gate that will lead into the main castle.  Varacay remembers from his time at the castle that of the possible entrances to the castle, the royal garden is actually the least-well defended, and its door is small and weak.

As they approach the garden, cloaked in magical shadows, they hear an argument between two people in the human language, which only Mia and Laguna can understand, and one of the voices of which Laguna recognizes.  The queen, apparently out for a stroll in her garden, is arguing with a guard trying to get her back inside, while the queen proudly insists on knowing what is going on before she heads back inside.

Laguna smiles darkly and drops the cloak of darkness, striding toward the argument.  He politely greets her majesty, then raises his arm and waves two fingers toward the queen.  Shiithead bursts from behind a hedge and grabs the guard trying to protect the queen.  The guard cries out in panic as Shiithead lifts the man over his head and slams him down on top of the queen.  The sound of several bones cracking fills the garden, and when Shiithead tosses away the guard, the queen lies dead, her neck twisted unnaturally.

Shiithead groans, complaining about how bad fabric tastes, when Gook sidles up and offers to take the queen’s dress, or at least part of it.  It looks like nice, soft fabric, and he has decided he’d like a turban.  Shiithead shrugs and rips off the queen’s long skirt and tosses it to Gook, then pulls off the rest of her clothes and begins to gnaw on her legs first.  As Gook begins to wrap the skirt into a turban, he finds a large metal key, which he grins at, then tries to tuck into his pocket.  Unfortunately the key is about a foot and a half long, so instead Gook tucks it into his belt like a weapon.

Meanwhile, Laguna and Mia begin to examine the door that will lead inside.  It has beautiful carved designs of a gorgeous nymph dancing with a group of brownies, but unfortunately, it’s shut, and Laguna remembers it never having been closed before.  Worse yet, he senses some form of magic guarding the door.  He casts a cantrip to figure out that the enchantment is some form of transmutation magic, but he’s not sure what.  About the time that Shiithead finishes eating the queen, they decide it’ll be best to just get inside instead of letting Shiithead get hungry again.  Varacay orders Shiithead to open the door, but the troll shakes his head, saying he heard them talk about how the door is trapped.  

Varacay scoffs at this, then in frustration tries to open the door himself.  As soon as he touches the doorknob, though, he feels a pulse go through his arm, and suddenly his body begins to shrink, stopping at about two inches tall.  Shiithead laughs loudly, and Gook and Herman go to see what the commotion is about.  Mia plucks Laguna off the floor and is about to place him comfortably in her cleavage when the shadow mage shouts for her to stop.  He refuses to go further into the castle, as the thought of his old master seeing him in this condition would be embarrassing.  He uses an enlarging spell of his own to try to counter the curse, but it only slightly opposes the shrinking effect, leaving him at about three-feet tall, slightly smaller than the Goblins.  He grimaces and orders them to open the door.

Mia shakes her head, pointing out that they need a key to get inside, because the door is probably locked anyway.  This jars Gook’s memory enough to remind him he has a key, so he hands it over.  Mia places the oversized key to the keyhole, and it shrinks slightly to fit into the keyhole properly.  When Mia turns the key, the door opens, and Varacay orders them inside, saying he’ll catch up once he manages to dispel the curse.  Their goal is to open the front gates to let the Goblin army invade.

As the rest of the group files through the door (Shiithead has to squeeze through uncomfortably), Laguna waits impatiently, hearing the distant sounds of guards investigating the south wall.  They’ll reach him far too soon, so he casts an illusion to make himself seem his normal size, then slowly follows the Goblins.  As he walks through the door, he hears a cat meow from the garden behind him, and shudders to think what would’ve happened if he had been alone and shrunk to a bite-size.

Knowing that Mia will be going toward the Goblin’s objective, Laguna eagerly makes his way in another direction, toward his old master’s study.

*	*	*

The south end of the main castle is one solid building, with wide rooms and hallways containing many vital areas.  From Laguna’s information, Mia leads them toward the cannon-powder silo, where she intends to remove the human’s ability to use cannons against their invading force.  They run into guards outside the powder silo, and a fight breaks out.  Shiithead makes quick work of the soldiers, but one manages to stab Herman in the chest before he goes down.  Suddenly, Herman’s younger brother Carl runs onto the scene, apparently having followed them from a distance.

Carl falls on his knees next to his brother’s body, and tilts his head to the sky, screaming, “Herman, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

Mia, unfazed, has Carl take his brother’s place in the mission.  Upon actually reaching the silo, she hits upon an idea, to use the cannon-powder to blow down the main doors.  Judging the time that has passed, Mia guesses they have not much longer left until the temple services let out, so they have to make a quick run across the castle courtyard toward the northern gates, instead of sneaking along the tops of the walls as they had planned.  Luckily for them, the powder silo itself has a door that opens directly onto the courtyard, through which they can see the northern wall, only about two thousand feet away.

Before they can leave, though, Carl gives his brother a burial, covering Herman in a pile of black cannon-powder.  He also makes sure to pound the human who killed Herman repeatedly with a heavy frying pan, Carl’s favored weapon.

Gook and Carl pick up large kegs of cannon-powder, and Shiithead grabs two under each arm, and then they begin to run across the main courtyard.  All around the courtyard, from windows, in front of doors, on the walls, or just roaming for walks, dozens of guards spot them, sounding the alarm.  One runs for the temple, to alert them in case they had not yet heard, and Shiithead sprints after him, hurling the heavy barrels of powder at him.  Shiithead crushes the man, but then the alarm bells begin to ring from within the temple, and the whole castle suddenly seems to buzz with noise.

Mia orders Gook and Carl to run for the north gate, and for Shiithead to provide protection for them.  She herself sprints towards the side of the temple, clambering up the stone wall to a shadowy hiding spot, from which she can snipe.  Eventually she climbs her way to the very top of the roof, hiding behind decorative stonework, waiting for the people in the temple to expose themselves.

Arrows begin to rain upon Carl and Gook, but Shiithead uses his body as a shield, catching enough arrows to turn him into a pin cushion.  He is actually beginning to sag from the injuries when a piercing shout comes from the top of a nearby building in the courtyard.  Laguna stands high, raising his hands to the night sky, and suddenly a shadow covers the stars and the moon, plunging the castle into near blackness.  Varacay snarls and calls for his old master, Christoff, to come and face him, while all around the castle shouts go out to light torches.

The temple’s doors then open, light spilling out from the holy building to flood some of the courtyard.  Though it gives the humans hopes in their defense, it also makes the soldiers who rush from the building easy targets for Mia’s sniping darts.  She takes out a handful as they try to rush to their positions, when suddenly she spies two prominent figures running out of the temple.  The first immediately leaps into the air, crackling with dark light as he flies toward Laguna, while the other, a balding warrior with a retinue of bodyguards, rushes toward the nearest door into the main castle walls.  Mia nods, recognizing the king as the focus of so much protection.  She pulls out one of her few darts that has lethal poison, and loads it into her blowgun.

Carefully taking aim, Mia spits, and the dart flies toward its target, but one of the bodyguards hears the noise of her shot over the din, and his eyes open wide with shock.  He leaps in front of the king, shouting (in a British accent), “My Lord, no!”, and the dart instead sinks into the bodyguard’s torso.  As the main gasps and dies, the king shouts something to his other men and points at the top of the temple, identifying Mia’s position.  Cursing, she ducks for cover and begins to enchant her darts with a rusting dweomer.

(all gamers at the table here pause to do our own rendition:  Mime leaping sideways, arms outstretched dramatically, shouting “My Lord, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”)

Meanwhile, through the darkness, arrows begin to fly again, now flaming to light the courtyard as the archers aim for the Goblins and the Troll.  Shiithead, seeing the sudden flames, shakes his head (“I ain’t takin’ this ****”) and breaks off from the Goblins so he won’t draw fire anymore.  Carl also panics, dropping his keg and running after Shiithead, who can protect him.  

Gook keeps running on blindly, though, grinning as he tries to dodge the arrows.  Then he feels a thud in his back, and he turns to see a flaming arrow stuck in the keg he’s carrying.  Whimpering, he briefly considers dumping the keg before it explodes, but then he shakes off his fear, steeling himself to die for his people.  Screaming victoriously, “Hoody-hoo!”, he sprints toward the north wall, not even bothering to aim for the doors, which are too heavily guarded.  Just before he’d reach the wall, the hurls his keg at the wall, then twirls to run.  The keg bounces across the wall, then explodes just as it lands against the wall.  The blast hurls Gook through the air gleefully, and cracks the inside of the castle wall.

Gook lands and turns to see the cracks in the foundation run up the side of the wall, and then the wall begins to tumble to the ground.  A length at least twenty feet of castle wall across topples downward, creating a hill of rubbles.  In the distances beyond the wall, a Goblin war cry echoes through the night, and Gook can hear the shouts of “Geeba” as the Goblin army marches on Castle Uragia.

Simultaneously, screams fill the air as a huge black shape seems to detach itself from the shadows in the sky, flapping down toward the courtyard.  Leriminsk, Varacay’s draconic ally, has arrived to claim his castle.  It lands at the south end of the courtyard, near the powder silo, blocking the king before he can reach safety.  Its roars fill the air, mixing with cries of battle and of pain.  Unhesitantly, King Mortret grabs a sword from one of his bodyguards and charges Leriminsk.

*	*	*

Laguna stands stoically at the edge of the building, holding his spell at the ready for when Christoff reaches him.  The elder mage flies amid a wave of crackling energy, approaching swiftly.  Christoff’s first spell flies forward, blasting into Laguna painlessly.  Instead, Laguna recognizes with pleasure, it is a dispelling attack, meant to remove his defenses.  Instead, it simply manages to dispel a few minor wards, plus his illusionary shield.  But most importantly it cancels the curse lain upon him from the door’s ward.  

However, it does not cancel the enlarging charm Laguna cast on himself.  With the shrink effect no longer active, Laguna instead grows to more than ten feet tall, towering over his master, who gasps.

Laguna cackles maniacally, conjuring humming claws of blackness that stretch from his fingers, and he leaps forward, off the roof.  Sorcerous black wings hold him aloft as he swoops toward Christoff, slashing with his claws.  He gashes his master’s chest, but the old man retaliates with a blast of fire that tears through the shadowy wisps of wings and sears Laguna’s face.  Before he can fall, Laguna latches his claws onto Christoff’s shoulders, pulling them both down with the extra weight.  They collapse to the ground, and all the soldiers nearby flee to give them room.

Laguna rolls to his feet, grabbing Christoff around the neck and lifting him off the ground.  The old mage struggles in the cutting grasp of the shadowy claws, trying to pry Laguna’s hands away.  Holding his old master easily in one hand, Laguna slashes across the man’s abdomen, and gouts of blood spill out.  Christoff screams in agony, and Laguna begins to rant about how he was never accorded the power or position he deserved in this kingdom, how his master always underestimated him and held him back.

Sneering, Laguna throws Christoff to the ground, and the shadow of Christoff’s own body suddenly hardens into spikes of blackness, piercing his arms and legs.  The old mage curses at Laguna, conjuring a hail of ice and sleet to whip his apprentice, tearing Laguna’s flesh and covering him in a frigid layer of ice.

Laguna falls back under the power of the hail, but then he pounces forward, planting a clawed hand on his master’s chest.  With his spare hand, he digs his claws through the open wound on Christoff’s belly, and the old mage groans, curling fetally.

Rising triumphantly, Laguna bursts into laughter, spreading his arms to the air, and from the shadows of the air materialize hundreds of shards of shadow, like a sphere of black daggers, all pointed toward Christoff.  He stares down to meet his mentor’s gaze, smiling farewell, when he notices the man muttering an incantation.  Glancing at Christoff’s hands, he sees that the man’s fetal curl had been a feint, allowing him to reach his spell components.

“No!” Laguna shouts, jabbing his hands toward Christoff to send the final attack, just as Christoff thrusts out his palms, flames spiraling up his arms into a flaring seed of fire.  The daggerblack shards lash upon Christoff like a vice of blades, but simultaneously Christoff’s fireball bursts forward, catching Laguna in the chest.  The explosion sears outward, a swirl of crimson flames and dancing shadows, consuming both mages in a roar that echoes through the castle.

*	*	*

Goblins begin to pour through the hole in the castle wall, with Gook cheering them on as he jumps up and down giddily.  Many Goblins ride wolves, and they begin to hack at the guards who man the northern wall.  Gook, however, looks to see where Carl is.

At the southern edge of the courtyard, Shiithead is trying to get in the thick of battle so people will stop firing flaming arrows at him.  In the darkness from Varacay’s spell it is nearly impossible to make out specifically where everyone is, but he is pretty sure he hears the Dragon, their ally, so he rushes toward the sound of roars, flapping wings, and scalding acid breath.  Carl rushes after him, holding his frying pan in front of him like a shield.  Gook, curious to meet up with his friends, runs after, them, but is several hundred feet behind.

Mia has hopped from rooftop to rooftop, using her touch of decay to carve handholds so she can climb easily up formerly pristine stone.  With only two allies (Carl and Shiithead) in a crowd of dozens of humans, she cares little for her aim, and so she wildly spits her darts toward anyone who looks like a soldier.  The impact of the dart is too light to damage, but their enchantment rusts armor, making it worthless.  The weakened armor makes them easy prey for Shiithead as he plows through the crowd toward the Dragon.

Leriminsk and the king are still dueling, but as Shiithead runs up he shouts, “Hey, Mis’er Dragun!  Jes’ kill du king and get yer scaly ass o’er ‘ere.”

The Dragon snarls at his impudence and turns upon him briefly, pounding Shiithead to the ground with one claw, then biting him around the waist, then spraying his belly with acid spit.  With the troll’s torso pinned firmly to the ground, the Dragon pulls sideways, ripping Shiithead in half at the waist, then spitting out the lower half of the body.  Shiithead grunts in surprise, then falls limp.  But the Dragon is distracted, and the king leaps forward, plunging his sword upward into Leriminsk’s chest.  The Dragon roars and curls its neck to bite the king, while nearby Carl falls onto his knees next to Shiithead’s torso, and tilts his head to the sky, screaming, “Shiithead, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

Gook hears this cry and sees that the dear Mr. Dragon, their supposed ally, has killed his friend Shiithead.  Shivering with anger, Gook wants nothing more now than to fight the Dragon, but he is too far away.

Then he remembers, pulling up his damaged but still functional crossbow.  He spies the open door to the powder silo, just near the dueling Dragon and king, and he has an idea.  Just then a flaming arrow digs into the ground at his feet, like a sign from the heavens, and Gook’s face splits in a grin.  Pulling the arrow out of the ground, he nocks it in the crossbow, takes aim, and fires.  The air goes horribly off-course from the damaged crossbow, but Gook’s aim sucked to begin with, so the arrow arcs cleanly through the air, through the door, and into the powder silo.

Gook ducks, pulling his turban down over his head for defense.

The explosion rocks the entire castle, shaking the cliff the building sits upon.  The entire powder silo bursts outward, sending flames and stone shrapnel hurtling through the air.  Even louder than the roar that killed Laguna and Christoff, this blast sears the king to death, and shears the Dragon’s head off with a chuck of flying rock.  The entire southern cliff begins to sag downward, falling into the sea.

By this moment, the Goblins have mostly finished off the bulk of the human defenders, and they approach the site of the explosion in a daze.  They see the severed lower and upper bits of a troll who has been torn in half, they see the charred corpses of a king and his bodyguards, and they see Carl the Goblin, standing up from where the Dragon’s body had shielded him from the blast.  The Dragon’s body is still twitching despite its lack of a head, and Carl is desperately smacking at the stump to make it stop, beating it with his huge frying pan.  Finally, it stops moving, and Carl sags weakly against it, looking around at the destruction.

Many of the Goblins blink, confused.  The human wizard had been leading them in the battle, but now he’s dead, and the Dragon was going to be their leader and keep the castle for himself, but now, Carl has killed the Dragon, chopped its head off with his frying pan, claiming the castle for the Goblin people.

Gibbering with glee, the Goblin army bursts into cheers, and a group swoops Carl off his feet and over them in triumph.  Across the crowd, the Goblins begin to proclaim, “Hail to King Carl!  The Dragonsquisher!  Geeb, geeb, GEEBA!” (said to the tune of “hip hip hooray”)

Gook pulls his turban off his head, realizing he’s not dead, and it takes him a while to figure out what’s going on, but then he hears the cheers, and rushes forward to congratulate Carl.  In his high-pitched voice, Gook gabs on about how he’s known Carl forever, how their great friends, and how he is amazed that Carl killed the Dragon, but impressed.  As the crowd carries off Carl to be crowned, Gook sighs, a little disappointed that his arrow didn’t actually set off the powder silo and blow up the castle.  Then he could’ve been king.  But at least Carl did it.

Gook begins to trot after the war crowd, looking forward to the pillaged dinner.  As he walks, he sees a few Goblins using dull knives to scrape off the acid-burned parts on Shiithead’s lower torso and upper waist (two different halves of the body).  He wonders if the two troll pieces might grow into two whole trolls, the part of the head and the part of the bottom.  Head and bottom.  Gook smiles at the thought, and even though Mia is cursing for some reason, promising to kill Carl or something, it doesn’t faze Gook.  He pulls out some of his remaining horse meat, and nibbles on it as he goes to find the feast, a smile of victory splitting his face widely.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 16, 2002)

*Chapter 15: Every Child Remembers His First Pet Fondly*

Previously, as the early morning sun rises over the burning Thornwood:

_James, Bhur, and Vic rush back to where Roth and Harley are, filling each other in on the events of the fights and fire.  Bhur tells the elemental to begin putting out the flames to stop at least part of the burn, so that Oleane’s grove will be safe.  When they get to the clearing, Bhur uses the last of his healing magic to keep Roth from dying, and James tosses the dark Elf woman’s spear to Harley for safe-keeping.  

James shoulders Roth and carries him back to the general location of Oleane’s grove, escorted by Vic.  Harley, Bhurisrava, and the elemental stay behind to manage the extinguishing of the fires.  The whole time they do so, Bhur comments continually about how much he’s going to love having this water elemental for a pet.  After about two hours, it begins to seriously disturb Harley.  Likewise, Vic has begun to brag about how of course they used water, Vic’s favored element, to save the forest.  James reminds him that the elemental is still a dangerous creature, but Vic shrugs off the concern, assuring James that his magic can control the elemental.

A few hours later, a wearied, sleepless Bhurisrava and Harley find their way back to Oleane’s grove.  James is still awake, watching over Vic and Allar while they doze.  It’s all Bhurisrava can do to command the elemental to sit still and do nothing.  And so Bhurisrava, Roth, Allar, Vic, and Harley sleep soundly, while James guards stoically, and the elemental stews motionlessly.

And then in the early afternoon, true to form, James wakes Harley up before she can even get six hours of sleep._

“Time to go,” James says quietly.  Harley notices that everyone else is still asleep, and that Oleane is still gone, probably trying to find the dark Elf woman that James, Bhur, and Vic saw.  Shaking her head, Harley begins to lie back down.

James sees her reluctance, and continues.  “You heard Bhur and Vic last night.  They want to keep the elemental.  Aside from that being against the word of our agreement with the dam Goblins, it’d also be stupid.”

Harley starts to whimper, but it turns into a yawn, and eventually she wearily nods her head.  “What are we gonna do?”

James stands up, his chainmail clinking softly, the loudest noise in the whole grove.  No one else even stirs.

“You did pretty well the last time we wanted to take something off the body of a sleeping person.  You got the map before, so get the ring now.”

Harley groans and nods, then stands up to get to work.

*	*	*

Several hours later, James wakes Harley up again before she can fall off her horse.  They are within site of the Eelhold dam, the elemental following fifty feet behind Harley, who boredly wears the ring.  They’d chatted for the first few miles, but then the lack of sleep and the monotony of the ride put Harley to sleep.  It has been on and off for the past few hours, but now Harley eagerly gets off her horse, wondering if the Goblins will let them stay overnight.

They guide their horses and the elemental into the circle of rocky beach surrounding the damwaters.  The Goblins watch them return with some trepidation, and they get the feeling that the Goblins didn’t really want the elemental to come back all that much.  A few Goblins run off toward the chieftan’s cave, and a few minutes later the chieftan comes striding toward them, followed by a retinue of Goblin warriors, one of whom carries the enchanted crossbow they had traded to the tribe for the right to borrow the elemental.  The eight Goblins, with clubs and one crossbow, try to look imposing.  Harley and James, with a finely-crafted dark Elven spear (a naginata, James informed her) and a magical longsword respectively, don’t need to try.

The Chieftan laughs and smiles as they approach, arms out wide to greet them again.  In his own high-pitched, gibbering way, he asks if they did what they wanted with the elemental.  James nods and says that it’s time to give the thing back.  The chieftan seems nervous, but Harley doesn’t give him a chance to back down (she does not want Bhur or Vic to have the elemental as a pet).  She pulls off her ring and begins to hand it to the Goblin, but immediately the water elemental lunges at them.  Swinging a watery pseudopod, it knocks Harley aside, plucks the ring from her grasp, and leaps upon the chieftan.

The whole tribe panics, some running off for weapons, others just for cover, while their chieftan is being crushed and drowned in the elemental’s body.  The chieftan’s personal retinue, close enough to see the expression of terror on their leader’s face, drop their weapons to the ground and bolt.  Harley, however, spots the ring floating in the elemental’s ‘chest,’ and so she breaks into a run toward the creature, naginata in hand.  The elemental turns toward her and tries to slam her with a tendril, but she tumbles underneath its blow and leaps forward, diving through the vertical pillar of water.  As she splashes through it’s body, she shoves at the chieftan, and both of them fall out of the elemental’s ‘back.’

Harley pushes at the chieftan to run for safety, while simultaneously looking for the ring, hoping she managed to knock it free to.  She jumps out of the way of another attack, then to her dismay sees that the ring still floats in the center of the elemental’s body.  Harley pushes her wet hair out of her eyes and readies her naginata, preparing for another lunge, when a shout from James comes from behind the elemental.  James has snatched up the crossbow that one of the guard’s dropped, and is aiming it at the elemental.

“Duck!” James shouts, taking aim as Harley leaps to the side for safety.

The twang of the crossbow string snaps through the air, and the bolt flies true into the elemental.  A clinking noise bounces across the rocky shore of the dam.  Harley and James both look to see the arrow come to a stop between two rocks, the ring jangling softly around the shaft.  

The elemental gives of a loud gurgle of dismay and begins to splash toward the ring just as Harley and James break into a run for it as well.  Harley jumps in the elemental’s way, slashing at it in wide arcs with the naginata’s blade, hoping to slow it down.  A few of the Goblins even begin hurling rocks and spears at the creature, which impede it enough for James to burst ahead and snatch the crossbow bolt out of the rocks.  The elemental has just begun to draw Harley into its body when James shoves the ring onto his finger and shouts at the elemental, “Stop.”

Enraged, the elemental seems almost about to resist the command, but then it relents, dropping Harley to the ground.  James thinks for a second, then points toward the far end of the lake.  The elemental must remain within 50 feet of either the ring, or of a large body of water, so James commands it to get into the lake.

“Go.  Farther.  Farther.  End of the dam.  Then go down.  All the way to the bottom.  Stay there and don’t do anything else until you’re told otherwise.”

James waits for the elemental to disappear into the surface of the lake, then waves the chieftan over.  He grabs the chieftan’s hand, twists it uncomfortably so their fingertips touch, and then slips the ring directly off his finger onto the Goblin’s.  For the fraction of a second that the ring isn’t on either of their hands, the elemental tries to hurl a boulder from the bottom of the lake at them, but it just splashes about ten feet out of the water, then falls back.

James suppresses a sneer as he looks down at the Goblin.  “Keep that thing under control.  Oh, and we’re taking back our crossbow.  Payment for saving your life.”

The chieftan shrugs sheepishly, then mutters something in Goblin when James turns his back.  James ignores him and walks back to Harley, who is thoroughly drenched.  He asks if she wants to stay with the Goblins tonight, to which she replies a forceful, “NO.”

James offers to carry her naginata while she tries to squeeze some of the water out of her clothes, and they both get back onto their horses.  As they ride off, Harley lightens the mood by joking about how she used to be disturbed that the Goblins smelled bad, but now she understands why they wouldn’t want to go bathing in the dam very often.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 23, 2002)

*Chapter Sixteen: The Eastern Rift*

Previously, as the early morning sun rises over the burning Thornwood: 

James, Bhur, and Vic rush back to where Roth and Harley are, filling each other in on the events of the fights and fire. Bhur tells the elemental to begin putting out the flames to stop at least part of the burn, so that Oleane’s grove will be safe. When they get to the clearing, Bhur uses the last of his healing magic to keep Roth from dying, and James tosses the dark Elf woman’s spear to Harley for safe-keeping. 

James shoulders Roth and carries him back to the general location of Oleane’s grove, escorted by Vic. Harley, Bhurisrava, and the elemental stay behind to manage the extinguishing of the fires. The whole time they do so, Bhur comments continually about how much he’s going to love having this water elemental for a pet. After about two hours, it begins to seriously disturb Harley. Likewise, Vic has begun to brag about how of course they used water, Vic’s favored element, to save the forest. James reminds him that the elemental is still a dangerous creature, but Vic shrugs off the concern, assuring James that his magic can control the elemental. 

A few hours later, a wearied, sleepless Bhurisrava and Harley find their way back to Oleane’s grove. James is still awake, watching over Vic and Allar while they doze. It’s all Bhurisrava can do to command the elemental to sit still and do nothing. And so Bhurisrava, Roth, Allar, Vic, and Harley sleep soundly, while James guards stoically, and the elemental stews motionlessly. 

And then in the early afternoon, true to form, James wakes Harley up before she can even get six hours of sleep. 

“Bhurisrava, calm down,” Vic groans, blinking at the light and cringing at the wailful cries coming from Bhur.  “What’s wrong, buddy?”

Bhurisrava holds up his hand, his eyes red and sad, but not teary.  He splays his fingers meaningfully, then whimpers out, “They t-took my ring.  My elemental is gone!”

Vic snaps his fingers in frustration, his hands clenching angrily.  “Aww, I was gonna use that elemental!”

Bhurisrava turns desperately, staring at the nymph Brookthorn, who is swaddled from head to toe to cover her burns.  “You.  Tell me!  Where did they take my- m my,” sniffling overcomes Bhur for a moment, and then he pouts at her, “my elemental?”

Shaking her head, Brookthorn shrugs, wincing as she does so.  Her once-gentle voice is now tinged with a quiet crackling, like the sound of trodding on leaves.  “Hera and James took the nereid back to its rightful owner.  They left hours ago.”

Bhur’s expression switches instantly from sympathy-inducing sadness to rage.  “Bloody Buddha!” (Bhur tends to use anachronisms like these)  “I’m gonna get my elemental back from those ungodly thieves.”

From the stone pallet he’d been resting on, Allar groans and nearly awakens.  Vic nudges Bhurisrava and points at Allar, then to Roth, who is likewise quite injured.  “These guys can’t just stay like this.  They need healing.  I mean, come on, you’re a healer, so if you heal them, they’ll want to help us get the elemental back, right?”

Bhur scowls at Vic for a moment, then rolls his eyes, sighing.  “I’ll get them on their feet, but I’m not some stupid miracle dispenser.  If they healing, they can get it themselves.”

Brookthorn coughs, ash sprinkling around her in a thin cloud.  Unhappily, she stares at Bhurisrava.  “You’re being very selfish for a priest of a god who heals.”

Bhur scoffs, then adopts a reverent expression.  “The Lord came back he was stabbed and crucified and stuff, so. . . ,” he frowns, “unless you want Al’ and Roth to end up like the Lord, you’d better tell me the nearest healer other than me.”

* * * 

Near nightfall the next day, Bhurisrava and Vic lead the way into the construction camp at the Eastern Rift, Allar and Roth following behind on crutches.  Torches and the setting sun illuminate the low wooden fence that rims the camp, and the guards look at them warily as they come into viewing distance.

“I am Bhurisrava,” Bhurisrava announces loudly, “one who spreads the word of God, and I have brought these two injured men to be healed by the pagan priest you have among you.  What’s his name again?”

“Lafayer,” Allar says with a wheeze, amazed at Bhurisrava’s behavior.  “Please, is Lafayer here?”

The guards ask some questions in curiosity and give Bhurisrava dirty looks, but eventually lead the four men inside the camp and get out raised cots for Allar and Roth to rest on.  Roth, who had been quiet through the entire trip, falls asleep.  They had hiked for eight hours the day before, stopping in Thurmaster for the evening, then set out to find the healer Lafayer at the edge of the Tunda Mountains.  While they were in Thurmaster, Tauster had given a metal flask of ale to Roth, which he had been sipping all day through the hike.  Now, after a trek totaling over forty miles, Roth apparently is ready to sleep.

As some of the guards go and find Lafayer, Allar explains what this camp is here for.  Less than a hundred feet to the east is a wide, deep rift that spans nearly a mile east to west, but dozens of miles through craglands north or south.  The sinkhole opened beneath the only clear and easy trade road between the Haranshire and the nation-state of Elsterton, to the east.  The road passed through the Southern Tunda Mountains, which is too rugged to cross easily unless on a well-tended road.  The sinkhole happened decades ago, and began a long-term decline in the area, but Allar and his companions had used the money they’d earned from their adventuring to help fund a bridge that would span the sinkhole.  

The bridge is a huge construction, with struts over fifty feet high in places, and nearly a mile long.  The only bridges to rival them are the Seven Great Spans of Seaquen, which are practically cities unto themselves.  Allar makes a note to point out that much of the cost of the construction was covered by Nozama Imperial donations (the road will help trade throughout the empire), but Allar has been providing the funding for housing the builders.

Allar hired a lot of guards because a lot of Goblins and Trolls make their home on the far side of the rift, and would not want a road full of merchants and soldiers passing through their homes, so the guards are waiting in case the tribes attack.  

There have been several attacks so far, but the builders have finally managed to finish the several thousand foot-long bridge, so all that remains is for the railing to be completed, and for Lafayer to symbolically bless the bridge.  By now, most of the builders have left, leaving only about a hundred workmen and laborers, guarded by three dozen hired soldiers.

Vic, who has only talked to Allar for a couple minutes ever before, is quite impressed with his generosity.  He has been to this bridge before (when they had to heal James’s poison spiderbite), but he wasn’t aware quite what was going on.  Now that he does, he asks if Allar’s generosity would extend far enough for him to want to hire Vic.

Allar smiles in disbelief.  “Why would you want to work for me?  You’ve only been here a few days, and already you nearly got killed by mercenaries who are out to kill me and anyone I know.”

Smiling knowingly, Vic shrugs.  “Well, I mean, those guys deserve to be tracked down, right?  If I have the choice, I don’t let people who hurt others get away with it.  And, um. . . .  I’ve heard you’re friends with that gnome wizard, um . . . David Waryeye, right?  I’d gladly risk my life for the chance to learn from the Archmage of the Haranshire.”

Allar laughs, restraining himself slightly because of his injuries.  “I like your outlook, Vic, but honestly, David’s not much of an archmage.  Actually, aside from him, the only two real mages in the Haranshire are Tauster and Jenneleth.  If you want archmages, go to the Lyceian Academy.”

Vic leans forward, shaking a hand.  “No, you don’t understand.  I went to the Lyceian Academy, four years ago, and heard that Professor Waryeye was really talented in combat magic, though maybe not so much in actually teaching his students.”

[Meta:  Justin, Vic’s player, knew next to nothing about the Lyceian Academy, except that Harley and James had helped save some wizards there, so it came as a surprise to me that apparently Vic had been there before.  Also, I hadn’t planned David to have been a professor, but I couldn’t deny Justin’s originality.]

Somewhat nervously, Allar smiles.  “I’d be a little afraid of anyone David taught combat tactics to, but when he gets back, I’ll introduce him to you.  Consider yourself hired.”

Bhurisrava groans.  “Vic, you’re gonna stay here?  I was thinking that as soon as I can make sure these guys aren’t still coming after me, I’ll be heading some place with more Christian hospitality.”

Vic shrugs, saying that he just feels like he can do something useful here.  As for hospitality, Allar chimes in that his friend David is a Christian, and has been trying to convert him ever since they first met.  Gnomish Christians are even rarer than Elves who follow the faith, so this quiets Bhur for a while as he contemplates it.

Then, to provide further proof that the Haranshire is hospitable, Lafayer arrives now.  He’s a kindly, middle-aged man with a slender build and an expression that looks as if he might once have tried to be unkind, but he just gave up and decided it was easier to be nice.  Lafayer takes a look at Allar, going into a slight trance as he examines the man’s injuries.  When Allar killed the small imp sent after him, the creature exploded, but in addition to burns, some type of lingering infernal taint has been impeding his healing.  

The priest says a few prayers to Meliska, a goddess of life and healing, and manages to purify the taint, then heal the rest of Allar and Roth’s wounds.  He admits that he is honestly amazed that Allar was able to hike the several dozen miles to the work camp with three broken ribs and several shattered fingers (from when a tree trunk fell on him), plus moderate burns on his face and chest.

Bhur takes this moment to interject that he was responsible for healing most of the burns on Allar.  Lafayer thanks him for that, but says that in the future, it would probably be safer for him just to get bed rest in Milbourne.

Laughing, Bhur shakes his head.  “No, he needs to be awake, because there are people trying to kill us.  We already had one of our own friends try to _steal_ from us; it wasn’t safe to stay where we were.”

The group makes conversation for another hour or so, Vic flipping through his spellbook and making notes on a spell of invisibility.  Allar states that the next morning he plans to head out and contact an old friend who he thinks will be able to help.  Hopefully he’ll be back in three days, but until then, he’ll need Vic and Bhur to meet up with Harley and James and keep watch over what’s going on.  To assist in this, he sends three of the guards out on horseback to go to Milbourne, Thurmaster, and Harlaton to try to find James and Harley.

Finally, after a late dinner is served during shift changeover, Lafayer wishes them well and heads to his tent.  Guards escort them to tents of their own, but Bhur and Vic have to share one, as to Allar and Roth, due to space limitations.  Before Vic and Bhur go to bed, though, they discuss combat magic, trying to come up with things they could do with their combined powers.

* * *

Bhur bolts awake and grabs the small figure trying to sneak through their tent, screaming, “I won’t let you steal my ring twice!”

Vic stumbles awake and knocks into the figure Bhur has started to grapple with, and sounds come from around camp as nearby tents wake up at the commotion.  

Pummeling the tiny, shrouded figure with his fists, Bhur growls, “Now why couldn’t I wake up when it counted?  _Sure_,” he sighs, yanking a dagger out of the person’s hand, “wake up to stop a murder attempt, but can I twitch when they pull a frikkin’ _ring_ off my finger?  Nooooo.”

Allar rushes in, tearing open the tent flap.  His black scimitar glows faintly along its diamond edge, providing enough light to make out the tiny figure on the floor.

“Bhur,” Vic says in astonishment, “you’re killing a kid.”

Bhur pulls the figure to its feet, then yanks off the covering hood.  “You must still be asleep, Vic.  This Goblin here tried to sneak in and kill us. . . .   Um, they don’t have a pet Goblin in this camp, do they?  If they do, I mean, . . . big mistake.”

The guards assembled around the tent assure him there aren’t any ‘pet Goblins,’ and then move to fortify the camp’s defenses.  Allar has Vic and Bhur hold the Goblin still as he interrogates it quickly, since he can actually speak Goblin.  Gibbering out words that all sound like “Geeba,” Allar quickly gets frustrated when all the Goblin will say is that they’re planning to attack.  To Allar, that fact was exceedingly obvious.

Allar tells them to have one of the guards tie up the Goblin, and then come with him to defend the bridge, but as Allar walks off, Bhur tries speaking to the Goblin, since the language sounds easy enough.

“Geebos meesa greeb?”

The Goblin looks at him in confusion, and replies, “Geebos goob?”

Bhur shrugs, and drags the Goblin to be tied up, wondering what the heck they just said to each other.

[meta: We made a point to write down what was said.  The exchange means, “Is the food bad?” and “What food?”]

Once the Goblin is thoroughly tied up and held under guard, Bhurisrava rushes to meet Allar, Vic, Roth, and two dozen other guards at the near end of the bridge.  The rest of the guards are waiting within the camp, along with the hundreds of builders, in case the attackers get through.  At the edge of the rift, they can see large shapes moving across the bridge toward them, but the torchlight and moonlight are too faint to make out much.

Bhur, squinting down the length of the bridge, is the first to speak.  “Allar, what do you know about trolls?”

Allar pauses for a moment, then nods.  “Yeah, there’s at least three of them.  Um . . . what’s to tell?  They’re vicious, tall, easy to trip and easy to burn, at least water trolls like these.  You never saw these things much until a few years ago.”  Allar then turns and tells the rest of the group that there are three or more trolls approaching, covering themselves with huge shields, and probably a few dozen Goblins with them.  He suggests they save their arrows unless they have a good shot, at least until the trolls drop the shields and charge.  He then dispatches four guards in either direction along the side of the rift, so they’ll be able to fire around the edge of the tower shields.  They also erect a makeshift barrier at the edge of the bridge, consisting of a few dozen barrels worth of supplies to slow the advance.

All of the guards are in place and ready before the approaching creatures even get within five hundred feet, and Allar gives the order to fire a few arrows to unnerve the Goblins and Trolls, not really expecting many to hit.  As the arrows begin to fly, the Trolls begin to jog forward, followed by sprinting Goblins struggling to stay within the defensive ring provided by the shields.  Finally, when the trolls are about fifty feet away, Allar gives the order to charge.  Allar leads the charge, with Roth by his side and the guards following close behind.  Smiling, Bhurisrava holds Vic back, suggesting a plan.

As the two groups clash together, Allar cartwheels through a narrow gap between two of the tower shields, slashing at the trolls holding them before he even lands on his feet.  Right behind him, Roth leaps onto one of the shields and sprints up it, even though it is nearly vertical.  He leaps at the top and brings down his bastard sword upon the troll whose shield he has just scaled.

Right behind them, the camp’s soldiers hold their ground and lean their shoulders into the shields of the trolls as the huge creatures try to overrun them.  In frustration, the trolls toss aside their shields (one just lifts it and cracks it over the head of a guard like a folding chair), clearing the way for full melee.  Over fifty shoddily armed Goblins follow close behind, so many that the bridge (only twenty feet wide) is too narrow for them all to fight effectively.  They scramble between the legs of the trolls, some clamber along the sides of the unfinished railing, and others simply hurl stones into the crowd of human soldiers.

Twenty feet away from the main rush of battle, Vic and Bhur struggle to pull down one of the heavy supply barrels that makes up the barricade.  One Goblin rushes at them, slashing a stone handaxe at Vic, but he dodges and kicks the Goblin off its feet.  Before the creature can get back up, Bhur slams it in the chest with his warhammer.  Then, both of the magic-users go back to work on the barrel.

Allar and Roth stay close together amid the crowd of Goblins and trolls, Roth roaring wildly as he takes down foes with slashes, bashes, punches, headbutts, and spittle, while Allar divides time between disemboweling one troll and cutting down any Goblin who strays too close.  Despite his fervor, Roth is set upon by a few too many of the scrawny Goblins, so he makes his way toward the side of the bridge so they can’t fully surround him.  Cheering, [“GEEBA!”] the Goblins give chase, hoping to shove the warrior into the ravine below.

A few human soldiers go down, but the rest fight fiercely to prevent the Goblins from killing the wounded.  The Goblins have started to swarm past the trolls and overwhelm the soldiers, when from the end of the bridge Vic shouts, “Guys, get out of the way!” and Bhur shouts, “Geebos meesa greeb?!”

The soldiers scramble to the sides when they see a heavy barrel rolling toward them, large enough to knock a man down or crush a Goblin.  The Goblins, however, pause for a moment to wonder why the heck an Elf is asking them about food in the middle of battle.  Right as the barrel reaches the nearest crowd of Goblins, Bhurisrava raises his hand high.  A beam of flaming white sunlight springs out and strikes the barrel, tearing it in half and setting its contents on fire.  The two severed halves of the barrel spin wildly, spraying the surrounding Goblins with flaming oil.  Victorious’s _metamorphose liquid_ spell has come in handy again.

Now that a huge swath of the bridge is aflame, the trolls panic, backing away from the flames desperately.  Allar ducks low and slashes the back of the kneecap as one goes by, his black scimitar severing its leg cleanly.  The troll starts to topple backward, but Allar throws his weight at it, trying to force it into the flames.  To the creature’s relief, it manages to fall sideways, away from the fire, but then it realizes that it is too close to the edge.  With a yowl of anger, the troll flips off the side of the bridge, landing with a surprisingly wet splat.

On the opposite side of the bridge from which the troll had fallen, Roth has quit roaring, and is instead looking for a way to break past the half-dozen Goblins that are trying to shove him over the edge (no railings, remember).  Finally, one of the Goblins stabs a rusted metal spear into Roth’s leg, and he resigns himself to the fact that he is going to fall.  His leg buckles as the blade digs deep, but before he falls, he drops his sword, grabs the shaft of the spear, and wrenches it sideways, swinging the Goblin on his own spearshaft.  Roth and the Goblin fall over the edge at the same time, but Roth manages to catch himself on one of the cut stones of the bridge.  He digs his fingers into the crack, then begins to shimmy sideways toward the nearest support strut, where he can see a wooden scaffolding.  He makes it with a few moments of strength to spare, and collapses in near-exhaustion onto the rickety scaffold.

“Another one coming up,” Vic shouts as both he and Bhurisrava run down the bridge, rolling a heavy barrel before them.  They let go a few feet before the first slick of flames, and the barrel rolls jarringly across the bodies of the Goblins who fell in the fire.  It continues to bounce down the length of the bridge toward the remaining attackers, who back away quickly when they see another flaming barrel approaching them.

Allar, who aside from Roth was the only person standing on the far side of the flaming oil slick, sighs in frustration when he realizes that the rest of the guards are cut off from helping him.  Shrugging, he runs alongside the second barrel as it proceeds toward the remaining trolls and Goblins.  At the last moment, he slashes at the barrel’s rim with his swords, ripping it open and spilling another pool of oil, which catches aflame from the fires clinging to the wood.  Then, undaunted by the fire, he keeps running, meeting a troll head on, flashing blades meeting against tearing claws.  The troll manages to grab Allar on the shoulder, for which he is rewarded by having his hand slashed off.  Howling, this second troll backs away, leaving one last troll and a dozen Goblins still waiting to fight.

Lafayer, who had been out of the combat so far, gathers the warriors still standing and casts a defensive spell that will shield them from the fire for a few moments.  With renewed vigor, the soldiers shout a battle cry and charge through the flames to come to Allar’s aid.

Bhur, assuming the battle will be over momentarily gives Lafayer the fantasy equivalent of a thumbs up, and then begins to look for his captured Goblin.  Vic grabs him and tells him to keep fighting, so the priest reluctantly follows Vic, as they both climb sideways along the edge of bridge (to avoid the flames).  As Bhur surmised, though, the fight is completed before they can give any further aid, though they are able to climb down and help Roth get to safety so Lafayer can heal him.

Allar makes sure to burn the bodies of the trolls, and after everyone is brought back to be healed (none of the guards died, but many nearly did), Allar takes out a group of four guards to track down the one troll who fell off the bridge.  Though the fall would have killed any normal creature, these trolls are watery, able to settle back into their natural form the way a pool of water settles if you disturb it.  Vic and Bhur volunteer to go along with Allar, and Bhur makes sure to bring along the Goblin prisoner, who he has named “Gee-Bud.”  Hopefully the Goblin will be able to show them the way to the troll lair.

Much intimidation and gibbering Goblinspeak later, they manage to follow the Goblin’s directions to the troll’s cave, which is nearby a large, stagnant pool, about four miles beyond the far side of the bridge.  Allar scouts around and finds a few Goblin sentries, but Vic says he can handle it.  He pulls out a small cup, fills it with water, and tells one of the guards to hold it, very still.  He then chants an incantation, and Vic vanishes, but a wavering form of him appears in the water, like a reflection.  Chuckling softly, he tells them to have bows ready, and that he’ll be back in a few minutes, assuming they don’t spill any of the water.  As Vic slips away, they can make out a very faint shimmer, like moonlight reflecting off rippling waters.

Invisible, Vic manages to sneak into the cave easily.  He finds the injured troll sitting on a large stone bed.  Its leg has regrown into a thin, formless pseudopod, with the full features slowly appearing as it regains its normal form.  From a safe distance, Vic flicks a handful of salt at the troll, chanting softly to cast insatiable thirst.  The troll suddenly gurgles, then looks around for something to drink, feeling as if it will die unless it can get a drink.  Roaring desperately, it bursts past the handful of Goblins that lounge around the cave.  The troll runs outside toward the pool of stagnant water, and Vic can clearly hear the twanging of multiple bowstrings as Allar and the guards pepper the creature.  Vic finishes off by shooting a powerful spray of water that knocks two of the Goblins unconscious (but disrupts his invisibility spell), and then he runs outside.

It is an easy matter for them to set the troll on fire and drive off the remaining Goblins, which leaves them free to rest briefly as they loot the meager treasure the trolls had accumulated.  Most of it is scattered around the cot of the leader troll, consisting of a few hundred coins and a thick blanket.  However, far more interesting is a small, finely made, black metal chest with an actual lock.  The chest is closed and locked, and Bhur’s Goblin pet “Gee-Bud” says they got it from some humans, but they weren’t able to ever get it open.  Apparently the leader troll lost the key.

They puzzle over this for a while, and one of the guards tries unsuccessfully to pick the lock, but finally they decide to just take it back to camp.  Vic looks around for a weapon he could keep as a trophy, but everything available is in wretched condition, so he shrugs and makes a note to shop for a nice, good axe.

When they get back to camp, there is a small celebration, but almost everyone is too sleepy to put much spirit into it, so they put up a skeleton guard crew in case some Goblins come back, and then go to bed.

* * *

The next morning, Allar sets out at sunrise, giving Bhurisrava and Victorious the following instructions.

Wait for James and Harley to get to this camp, then take the chest to Tauster to see if he can open it.  The thieves already have the Book of Darlakanand, so there has to be some reason they haven’t just taken it and left yet, and the Goblin’s information suggests that the ‘Limoges’ who is responsible for the theft also was in touch with these trolls.
If Tauster can’t get it open, just bash it open, but be ready for casualties in case it’s trapped.  He doesn’t think it is trapped, but he’d prefer not to mess with it if there’s anything fragile inside.
Go back to Oleane’s grove and check with her to see if she has anymore leads.
Make sure to be waiting for Allar’s return in three days.  He’ll show up at The Baron of Mutton, in Milbourne.
But before you do any of this, Bhur, get rid of the Goblin as a pet.  Escort it to the far end of the bridge and let it go, but warn it never to try attacking them again.  Of course it won’t listen, but it’s the proper thing to do.

As soon as Allar rides off, Bhur promises Vic loudly that he won’t be letting his new pet go.  The Goblin must be rehabilitated and trained, and taught humility.  Still, they do follow the instruction to wait for Harley and James.  

The only interesting thing that happens for the next few hours is when they learn what Tauster gave to Roth.  Apparently, after Vic gave the old wizard that flask of Dwarven spirits, he enchanted a metal flask to refill with Dwarf spirits whenever commanded to do so.  Even though he says it doesn’t taste exactly right, Roth has been taking small sips for the past day and a half, trying to build up his resistance.  Instead, he just seems wretchedly drunk.

Around noon, Harley and James ride into the camp, along with the guard Allar had dispatched to find them.  They had stopped by Oleane’s grove the night before last, and then stayed in Thurmaster last night.  Though Harley is a little frustrated that Allar left them alone to go find a ‘friend,’ she is glad to hear that he’s fully healed.  Also, when Vic shows her the metal chest the trolls had, she offers to give unlocking it a try.  About a minute later, she manages to pick the lock, claiming she learned the trick from her time as a stage magician.

The chest isn’t trapped, though there is a glass inkwell inside that would have shattered if they’d tried to bash it open.  Additionally, they a sheet of paper written in Goblin, several blank sheets, a heavy pouch of gold coins, a second pouch of smoothed stones of jet, and a map.  Judging by the crispness of the handwriting, it probably wasn’t an actual Goblin writing the letter.

After getting several second opinions, they’re fairly certain that the map is to the Great Rock Dale, where Harley, Bhur, James, and Roth had fought the wyverns.  It has a particular spot marked with the word, “Lorkimeht.”  They also ask around the camp, and finally find someone who can read Goblin, at least vaguely.  He reads the letter, as best he can:

“To Lorkimeht,

“This treasure is yours.  We pay you for the ‘broken rock.’  If you killed our last messenger in anger last time, my master forgives you, but warns you not to cross us again.  If you have another offer, write it to us, but do not stall.  You have until. . . .

“—The Blessed Order of Eternal Night, Followers of Chult” 

The guard doesn’t know how Goblin dates work, so he can’t guess what the last part of the letter means.  However, everyone has heard of the followers of Chult, the human god of death.

Apparently, someone is willing to pay a lot of money for a ‘broken rock,’ and the party guesses that that someone is Limoges.  It also seems like the trolls weren’t planning to deliver the message, since they’d kept the chest for several weeks according to Bhur’s pet Goblin.  Vic suggests they leave immediately to track down this Lorkimeht, and though they’re weary from travel, Harley and James agree.  Totally ignoring Allar’s orders, they make plans to set out and find Lorkimeht before Limoges can.


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## Fade (Jan 23, 2002)

So the bridge is thoroughly on fire and no one cared to put it out? Allar isn't going to be too happy about that.


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## RangerWickett (Jan 23, 2002)

No, it's a stone bridge, so it eventually went out on its own.  Oil only burns so long.  But there is a nice pair of charred spots.  Later gossip said that a dragon tried to destroy the bridge, but we know better.

Next week, be sure to bring something to drink.


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## Acquana (Jan 23, 2002)

Yay!  I finally get to figure out what to happened to Vic and Bhur while James and I were out.  I forgot, wasn't there some other reason I couldn't make it to that game?  You scheduled it oddly or something and just ran a makeup game for me and Nic?

  And by the way, keep up the good work.  Don't forget to write!


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## RangerWickett (Feb 1, 2002)

Sorry there was no update as there was supposed to be, but I was busy with Nat20 business.


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## RangerWickett (Feb 2, 2002)

*Chapter Seventeen:  A Shard of Night*

It is late-afternoon when the party decides to ride off and find Lorkimeht, who apparently possesses a ‘broken rock’ that Limoges wants.  As they finish rounding up five horses for themselves, two problems become apparent.  The first is that Roth is thoroughly drunk from the everflowing ale flask Tauster gave him, and so he cannot go with them.  The second problem is Bhur.  He has spent the last half hour sitting on a stool next to the stake to which the captive Goblin is tied, trying to show it that he means it no harm.  The Goblin is sulking dejectedly, trying to ignore the Elf who keeps jabbering at it.

When Harley suggests Bhur should just let the Goblin go free, since if it stays around it might escape anyway and turn on him, Bhur stands up and stares down at Harley.  While this is far from intimidating (because Bhur is half a foot taller and substantially skinnier than Harley), Harley does step back, wondering briefly why Bhur is angry.  Then she remembers.

“So,” Bhurisrava says, “you want me to get rid of _another_ pet!  Well it’s not about to happen.  I captured this Goblin, and he’s mine to keep and take care of.”

Harley sighs.  “I know it’s just a Goblin, but it _is_ intelligent, in its own way.  You can’t just keep an intelligent person as a pet, Bhur.  Just let the thing go so it can go back to its tribe.  I’m sure after having you beat it up, it won’t think of attacking anyone here again.”

“I don’t think so,” Bhur says.  “I’m going to reeducate this Goblin.  Teach it Innenlesti for one thing.  If I leave now, the guards here will either kill him or let him go, and he’ll revert to his savage ways, or die.  He deserves a _new_ life.”

Walking up, James shakes his head.  “You’re not bringing that Goblin with us.  Cut ‘im loose.”

Bhur refuses.  “You can just go on without me, then.  I’ll stay here and make sure Roth and the others are safe.”

They try a few more times, but Bhur is still petulant enough to stay, so they shrug and leave him, telling him how foolish he’s being before they ride off toward the Great Rock Dale.  Once they’re out of earshot, Harley comments that the fact that Bhur is a priest is one of the greatest proofs that the Christian God doesn’t exist.

[Meta:  Neither Roth nor Bhur’s players made it to this session, and they gave the above excuses for why their characters wouldn’t go along.  Blame them, not me.]

They follow a dirt road to Allar’s keep, where they leave word of where they’re headed, in case Allar comes back early.  The guards say that Allar was not planning to return for another two or three days, but that they’ll pass along the message if he comes back before they do.  Vic makes sure to pick up a few supplies in the form of spare water flasks for all of them, and then they ride for another two hours until it grows dark.

That night they stay at a small farmhouse about two miles from the Great Rock Dale, owned by the Jonestone family.  James pays the father of the house a fair sum for their lodgings, and Harley spends the night entertaining the children with magic tricks and talking to the mother of the house.  Harley is particularly interested in the berry preserves the family makes from the nearby Hardlow woods, and she purchases a jarful gladly.  Vic goes to sleep early, thinking it will be best if they sneak into the Great Rock Dale slightly before sunrise, when the chance of running into guards from the Orc tribe in lowest.  James agrees, and warns Harley to be ready to wake up even earlier than usual.  Just to be safe, though, Vic says he’ll prepare a spell that will let him change his appearance, in case he needs to pass as an Orc.



Packing the jar of blackberry preserves into her horse’s saddelbag, Harley forces herself to accept that a little sleep is not as important as getting in and getting out discreetly.  While James thanks Mr. Jonestone for the lodgings and purchases an oil lamp, and Vic attunes himself to the elemental water forces in the area, Harley admires her newest weapon—the long, curved-blade spear that was dropped by the Taranesti woman in the woods.  The naginata is finely made, and must have been worth a fortune to the dark Elf for its wooden shaft alone.  She finds some open space near the farmhouse and gives the weapon a few testing swings, trying to get used to wielding it.  In general, she prefers her daggers because they are faster and can be thrown, but she is starting to take a liking to the elegant, arcing slices of the naginata.

James leads the way as they ride away from the farmhouse.  In the west, the moon is low, and it is huge on the horizon before them as they ride toward the Dale.  They still have another two hours until the sun rises, but the moonlight is enough for James to read the map by.  He guides them to the appropriate location, a few miles north along the Dale’s eastern edge.  According to the map, the cave is high on the wall of the Dale, and cannot be easily reached from the lower ground in the center of the canyon.  The cave of Lorkimeht can be identified by a pair of huge stone slabs leaning across its face.

They find a likely spot, which even has a slight switchback trail for them to lead their horses down.  They decide, however, to leave two of the horses tied to a tree near the top of the rift, and only bring one down, which is all they need to carry their equipment.  As they lead the single horse down, in the distance they can make out the faint lights of campfires in a few scattered caves on the cliff walls.  They hope that no one can make them out from this far, but just to be safe they go without any helping light.  This is relatively easy for Harley and James, but Vic has to walk slowly and carefully, muttering constantly how he really wished Bhur were here to help out.  Harley agrees that even though the priest doesn’t know what he’s talking about half the time, he’s always been willing to help protect them.

They come up to the cave, whose mouth is about ten feet tall and similarly wide, and just barely below the rim of the canyon wall.  The pair of stone slabs mentioned in the map form a triangle with the ground and wall, and they notice that at this very angle, as the moon sets on the opposite horizon, only a single beam of moonlight passes through the space between the slabs.  It creates a faint, long dagger-shaped shard of light on the stone ground, about 8 feet long, that leads into the cave.  Beyond the tip of the moonlight dagger, the cave it wholly black.  Even with Elvensight, which can normally see the world as if it were glass lit by starlight, this cave is as black as pitch.

“Um, when we get in, it is alright for me to make some light,” Vic says nervously, “right?”

Harley nods weakly, drawing her blue-hilted dagger.  “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.  Do we have any idea who this Lorkimeht is?  Why would he live in a cave?”

James shrugs.  “Probably just an Orc or Troll.  Don’t get so worried.  Vic, light.”

One cantrip later, a blue halo appears around Vic’s head, illuminating the cavern.  The tunnel slopes slightly downward for twenty feet, ending in a black curtain that stretches across the width of the passageway.  Vic glances to the others.  “This looks like it’s our place.”

Harley starts to edge toward the exit nervously, but James reaches out an arm and snags the back of her shirt.  She sighs, then follows as James strides toward the curtain.  When they reach it, James pulls the curtain aside, and Vic’s light spills into the room.  They immediately notice the motion of a huge wooden rocking chair, twice the size of a normal one, creaking back and forth.  Then, to the side of it and twenty feet beyond is a vague dark shape, six feet tall.

“I have a letter for you,” James says boldly, striding into the room with his sword held ready.  Harley and Vic follow behind, though not as eagerly.  “The priests of Chult want your ‘broken rock.’”

The dark form beyond the rocking chair shifts with a slight rustling of cloth.  Vic’s meager light cantrip only vaguely reveals a huge figure, seated in a thronelike seat of stone.  Vaguely human, but twice as large, it leers at them from the gloom, light gleaming from its dark horns and inky black eyes.  In one hand it casually holds a large axe, its metal head gleaming cooly.  A cold grin spreads across the figure’s face as it lays its gaze upon them, and suddenly Vic’s light spell is snuffed out.

“You cannot have the shard.”

The gravelly voice echoes through the lightless cavern, twisting to ominous wisps of sound before it fades entirely.

“No gold, no gems or jewels are worth this treasure.  It is a shard of the deepest night itself, and all who covet it shall fall by my dark hand.”

They listen carefully, but all they can hear is the faint breathing of Lorkimeht.  Suddenly, a feeling of cold wraps around Harley like a veil, then sharpens, digging into her skin like claws.  She cries out in pain and leaps away, slashing blindly with her dagger.

“Vic, light!  Vic!”

Light flickers briefly from Vic’s hands, flaring white and cutting the room into vague focus, then suddenly blacking away and returning, strobing from light and dark.  In the unsteady flashes of light, Harley sees a nearly flat plane of shadow, resembling a skeletal paper cut-out, reaching for her with flat, black claws.  It cringes slightly at the light, then glares at her with hollow red eyes and slashes across her chest.  She feels agony as the claws dig in, and even though they leave no wound, she feels her body growing duller around her, heavier.  Desperately, she stabs at the shadow, and it seems to flinch back in pain, but the only sound she hears is the beating of her own heart.

James gestures for Vic to follow him.  “The ogre’s commanding the shadow.  We kill the ogre.  Harley, do what you’re best at.”

Harley does just that, turning and running back for the mouth of the cave.  She can feel the shadow pursuing her, bounding across darkened stones, always following at her heels.  As she struggles to pull the heavy curtain out of her way in the gloom, the shadow rakes its claws across her back.  She stumbles forward onto her knees, but manages to crawl under the curtain and kick forward into another sprint.  Behind her, the shadow does not hesitate in its hunt.

In the throne room, James charges toward Lorkimeht, who shakes his head in disapproval.  As James slashes for him, the horned giant rises from his throne and parries casually with the haft of his axe, then snaps the axe blade down onto James’s shoulder.  James ducks most of the force of the blow, but it rips through his chainmail and cuts into his flesh.  He pulls away, and Lorkimeht growls contentedly.  He glares down at James, eyes flickering in the strobing light, and James wonders if he is actually outclassed.

From the side, Vic tries to surprise him with a volley of ice shards, but the Ogre accepts the slicing hail with barely a grimace.  He simply turns to face Vic, then calmly adjusts his long robe, unconcerned with the threat they might pose.  He flexes the muscles in his chest dramatically, then clenches his hands tightly around the axe’s haft.  The black shard of stone lashed to the haft shimmers, cold wafting from it as Lorkimeht draws back for an attack.  Vic’s eyes widen in worry, and he leaps to the ground as Lorkimeht’s axe cleaves the air where he had been standing.

“Get ‘im, James!” Vic shouts as he scrambles to his feet.  

Behind the Ogre, James uses the seat of the stone throne as a step to gain higher ground to attack.  He slashes downward with his sword, at Lorkimeht’s back, and though his blade digs a jagged cut across the Ogre’s back, it is overall a minor wound.  Lorkimeht pauses to contemplate whether to pursue the spellcaster or the warrior, then mockingly shoves James bare-handed, setting the man off-balance.  James falls off the throne onto the floor, and tries to push himself to his feet to get up his defense, but Lorkimeht turns away with a laugh, and James realizes that he is being toyed with.


Outside the curtain, Harley sprints back up the daggerlength of moonlight, toward the open air outside where the horse is.  The shadow hesistates for a moment at the edge of the starlight, then leaps past Harley, scrambling between her and the horse.  Harley stops in fear, while the horse rears against its reins at the unnatural force before it.

In the moonlight, the shadow is a skeletal humanoid, it’s skull elongated, with a tail-like stinger lashing about its waist, like a scorpion.  Harley shudders at the sight, having always loathed the sting of scorpions.  Feeding off her fear, the shadow’s eyes flare scarlet, and it leaps for her.  She tumbles to the side, landing on her back clumsily from the enfeebling effect of the shadow’s earlier attacks, and for a moment, she waits in panic, unable to move.  Then she hears the horse’s screams as the shadow tears at its flesh.  Steeling herself, she leaps to her feet and forces her way past the shadow, to the horse.  The shadow’s tail lashes at her, but she twists her body to dodge.

When she reaches the horse, she slashes across the straps holding the naginata in place with her dagger, then pulls the weapon off the saddle.  In the same motion, she slashes the ties holding the horse with the naginata’s blade, freeing the horse to run.  Somehow, with the naginata in her hands, she feels more comfortable, and she holds the weapon ready to defend herself.

The horse bolts away, kicking up a cloud of dust, and in the obscurement, the shadow disappears.  Harley waits, nervous, then runs back into the tunnel, guessing that the creature is going after her friends.  She has just run inside when she realizes that she can actually see through the unnatural gloom.  Through some magic of the naginata, the magical darkness is no obstacle, and she can clearly see the shadow hiding in ambush near the curtain.  She smiles, and draws from her experience as an actor, drawing on her remaining fear to trick the creature into underestimating her.


Vic jumps back to try to dodge Lorkimeht’s cleaving swing, but too slowly, and he is cut deeply across his chest.  Gagging in pain, he falls to the ground, cringing at the sheer presence of the Ogre.  Then, a moment later, he hears the heavy thud of giant footsteps leading away, heading back toward James.  Vic forces himself to his feet, clutching the long gash on his chest, but as he watches the Ogre stalk toward James, he realizes he has no spells that will help, and no weapons worth the effort.

James drops to one knee as he blocks Lorkimeht’s downward axechop, and he manages to score a well-aimed slash across the Ogre’s thigh.  He snaps his gaze toward Vic and shouts, “Look!  We can make him bleed.”

Lorkimeht butts the head of his axe into James chest, knocking him back slightly, but James laughs.  “You call that a hit?  Vic, he just wants to scare us, since he knows,” James pauses to feint a slash, then lash out with a kick to the Ogre’s knee, “that he’s no good in a real fight.  Has to send his stupid,” he ducks a punch, then parries an axeblow, “pet to do the dirty work!”

Growling, Lorkimeht swings his axe in a huge arc, forcing James to the floor.  He then kicks at James, but James rolls with the impact, coming to his feet only slightly dissheveled.  He pushes his hair out of his eyes, then glances at Vic, hoping not to betray that his leg is fractured.

Lorkimeht steps back slightly and twirls his axe in an impressive spin, waiting for James to make a move.  As Vic watches, he nods slowly, a smile stretching across his face.  He’s been running so far, but now it’s time to take the bastard down a notch.  He begins to cast, smirking at the Ogre’s expression as it turns in surprise.  With a brief choke, Lorkimeht lowers his guard and grabs at his throat with his free hand, gasping as he feels his mouth go dry, his entire body filling with thirst.  Vic knows it is only trickery, but to the Ogre, it is life-threatening dehydration.

He snarls desperately, spotting a flask of water on James’s belt, but before he attacks, he raises his axe high, wrapping his hand around the black stone.  Vic’s light flickers again, but he focuses on keeping it active, and suddenly the strobing stops.  From the orb in Vic’s hand, light fills the room, exposing the Ogre as simply a thirsting creature.  Cursing the wizard, Lorkimeht tries to swing for James’s head, but James takes the blow on his shoulder instead.

As James falls to the ground, Lorkimeht yanks the flask of water from his belt and gulps it thirstily, then tosses it away, unquenched.  Suddenly, a laugh comes from behind him, and Lorkimeht turns to see the oddest thing in his entire life.

[Meta:  Vic’s player Justin asks, “Can _alter self_ make me look like the Kool-Aid man?”  I stare at him, dumbfounded and sickened at his cruel sense of humor, and though I don’t want my ominous Ogre to be so embarrassed, I let Justin get away with it.]

“Can’t catch me,” mocks the creature standing where Vic was a moment earlier.  Slightly larger than a man, instead of a body it has a huge glass pitcher filled with blue liquid that sloshes enticingly.  It’s arms and legs are fairly normal, though they are far too soft and comical for a real creature.  But what does it for James is the front of the pitcher, which has been iced in the caricatured features of a grinning Vic.  James, despite his wounds, bursts into laughter.

Lorkimeht rushes for the tub of drink that is Vic, but the pitcher man (shouting, “Kool!  Aid!  Kool!  Aid!” breaks away in a run, sprinting in a circuit around the edge of the cave.  Lorkimeht gives chase desperately, snarling in frustration at the combined laughter from the wizard and the injured fighter on the ground.  He would kill them both, but he knows that if he doesn’t drink _now_, he will die.


Beyond the curtain, the shadow pounces for Harley, but she is ready for it, and she bluffs it into attacking where she is not.  Tumbling to the side, she thrusts out the spear before she even regains her feet, and the blade gouges through the skeletal shadow’s ribcage.  It tilts back its body in a silent scream, then lunges for her again, its claws outstretched.  She ducks one slash, then uses the naginata to cut through the curtain, dropping half of it to the ground.  This lets the light from Vic’s spell fill the outside tunnel, and both Harley and the shadow pause.

The shadow pauses because even the dimmest light stings it.

Harley pauses because she has never seen James laugh before.

She herself breaks into laughter at the sight of Vic, but then pays for it as the shadow gouges across her arm.  She cries out in pain, then slashes at the shadow again as she backs into the throne room.  She calls for James’s help, but James is having a hard enough time even standing up, and there is not much room in the tunnel for a good swing at the shadow, so she starts to run herself, circling the room in the opposite direction as Vic.  The two of them rush toward each other, Harley aiming for the desperate Ogre, Vic for the pursuing shadow.  Then, as they paths cross, Harley leaps into the air, naginata drawn back wide.

With a full slash, she swings the blade in a wide arc, barely over Vic’s head, level with Lorkimeht’s stooped and thirsting face.  The blade smacks in loudly, and as Harley lands from her leap, Lorkimeht topples backward.

Simultaneously, Vic reverts to his original form and thrusts the hand-held cantrip of light at the shadow.  It dodges to the side, crimson eyes seemingly panicked now.  Vic laughs, “I have you now!” and lunges for the shadow, flinging himself at it bodily.  The shadow has no substance, so he falls straight through it, but as the light spell passes into the shadow’s body, the creature bursts into a thousand shards of blackness that scatter about the room like dust, quickly fading into nothing.

Vic gives a cheer, and helps Harley extract her naginata from the Ogre’s mouth.  As Lorkimeht dies, drowning face-up in his own blood, he finally gets the drink he so desperately wanted.

James, Harley, and Vic congratulate each other, and then they focus on binding each other’s wounds.  Harley collapses from exhaustion, finally feeling the effects of the shadow’s touch.  She can barely hold the naginata anymore, so she rests weakly against the cavern wall.  James and Vic do their best to bandage each other up, which in James’s case involves having to pluck bits of chainmail out of his wounds where the axe dug in.  James lights up the lantern he bought from the Jonestones, and they relax.

All in all, none of them can really lift or move anything (Vic has broken ribs, James a broken leg, and Harley is just physically sapped), so they have to spend a few hours resting in the same room as a dead Ogre.  Even though the walls are relatively well decorated with animal skins and the odd hung tapestry (“Where did he get those?” Harley wonders), the only real furniture is the rocking chair, the throne, a large wooden chest filled with dried seasoned meat, a pair of large boulders, and a bed.  The bed is well-tended and huge, but they feel uneasy enough as is, so they decide not to sleep in the bed of a person they just killed.

After a little rest, Harley does her best to investigate the room, looking for treasure they can take.  Obviously the shard is the black stone lashed to the Orc’s axe, but aside from the wall hangings, they see nothing else.  Only after much fruitless curiosity does Harley realize that the shadows on the boulders are wrong.  One boulder has shadows in the right direction, but the other has the exact same arrangement of shadows, just reversed, like a mirror.  Taking a guess, Vic uses the blade of Harley’s naginata to prod at the rock, and they discover that it’s simply an illusion.  

A little investigation later, they discover a small glass mirror in the center of the illusory boulder, which Vic guesses is probably enchanted, because when they pick it up, the boulder vanishes.  There were also four iron bear-traps spaced around the edge of the illusion, which thankfully they manage to avoid.  Finally, there is a heavy steel chest, which they could never hope to move, but the lock of which Harley manages to pick after a few minutes of trying.  They guess that the chest must just have been spoils from a raid, not Lorkimeht’s own, since all it contains are a pouch of coins, a spellbook, a wand made of burnt wood, and a pair of fancy dresses that, at first glance, are meant for a woman much more revealing and well-endowed than Harley.

Vic guesses, “He’s probably been using that shadow of his to hunt for as long as he’s had the shard.  When the sun comes up, we should get out of here and get back to Bhur.  I don’t want to carry that thing at night.”

Harley sighs, embarrassed to ask, but she finally does.  “Vic, could you also take the spear?  I can’t carry it very well.”  (Which was true.  The shadow’s touch had reduced her to a Strength of 2).

Vic nods and shrugs.  “Sure, don’t mention it.  And I’ll be taking _this_ too.”

He cuts the shard off Lorkimeht’s axe, puts the shard aside, then lifts the axe.  “My old mentor Hunter told me to always cut off their heads, to make sure they don’t come back.  You laugh, but I could tell you some stories Hunter told me that’d shut you right up.”

With a light chuckle, he brings down the axe and chops off Lorkimeht’s head.


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## Fade (Feb 2, 2002)

Very nicely described. Are you working from very detailed notes, or writing the core events up in novelike fashion?


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## RangerWickett (Feb 2, 2002)

It's slightly pathetic, actually.  Each week, I have to look through my old DM notes I wrote up before the game, then try to remember what happened.  I ask the players what they remember, and then I string together what I recall with interesting connecting tissue.  The key parts (who kills who, and how, the bad in-jokes) are all original, but I will admit to making a few things up.  I'm sure it all made sense during the game, but occasionally I find myself wondering, "WHY did they do that?  I know they did, but why?"

Like for instance, I knew they went to the bridge and fought the trolls there, but I didn't remember what exactly drove them there.  I just had to hazard a guess that it was to get healing, but who knows.  Sometimes whim probably played a big part in the party's actions.

Oh, but I kid you not.  Bhurisrava really did act that way.  It turns out there's an acceptable reason for his behavior, but I still can't help but sigh whenever I write him.  My gamers were so weird.

But we had fun in the long run.


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## RangerWickett (May 5, 2002)

So . . . what happened after this.  I think I might skip a chapter or two, speed ahead to the good stuff.

In the next chapter, Chapter Eighteen, the group returns to the eastern rift bridge to discover that, while they were gone, Bhurisrava's Goblin led the priest into a trap.  In the middle of the night, Bhurisrava, Roth, and Lafayer (the priest who had already been at the bridge) were kidnapped.  Guards heard a few shouts in the distance, but by the time they got there all they saw were a few drops of blood here and there, and one broken arrow shaft, with red fletching.

James, Harley, and Vic try to follow the trail, but it crosses over rocks.  Since the trail heads generally south, they are able to guestimate where it is heading, but when they still can't pick the trail back up, they go to Thurmaster to ask if anyone had seen anything suspicious.  No one has, but when they ask about the red fletching on the broken arrow, they eventually hear from a swamp hunter that there are a few red-feathered birds that live in the Shreiken Mire.  By this point it's nearly sunset, but they don't want to leave Bhurisrava endangered so they head out immediately, bringing lanterns to provide at least some light.

Unsurprisingly, they quickly lose all sense of where they are in the swamp.  Vic promises that he can use the water currents to guide them back to the river if they have to leave, but they have no idea where they are or where they're headed.

It is several hours after sunset, as they're trying to set up a system for plotting out the land they're traveling through, when Harley notices a pair of glows in the distance, like lanterns, bobbing up and down.  Hoping they've found someone, even if it's not the kidnappers, Harley, James, and Vic chase though the muck after the lights in the distance.


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## RangerWickett (Jun 24, 2002)

I'll get around to an update one of these days.  Like Saturday.


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