# The Unusual Heroes - Classic Tales and Stories Untold



## Xaltar (Aug 21, 2002)

With the upcoming Epic Battle, it seems about time to retell the old stories, add some flare and pictures, and also fill in the gaps that have been left open between some of the adventures.

There are actually two groups that form the current party of Unusual Heroes.  Both had their start in the Dalelands.  This begins the story of how our first set of young heroes meet in the small town of Ashabenford, and form a group that will someday be heralded throughout Faerun.

Hopefully new readers will find their way here and not feel so out of touch with the latest Story Hour, Rappan Athuk: Ravage of The Unusual Heroes!.  For others that have been keeping up with the story, this will refresh your memory of some old characters that you are going to see again soon!


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## Xaltar (Aug 21, 2002)

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Session 1 - Part 1: The Adventure Begins...
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Today was not your typical day in Ashabenford; one of the larger settlements located within Mistledale.

It all began around mid-afternoon in The Velvet Veil when a young ranger of the Dales walked in and asked the bartender about local happenings. The bartender motioned to a small and awkward looking man who was trying feverishly to adhere a "Wanted" poster to the wall near the entrance. The commotion caused the majority of the patrons to look over at the struggling man. Embarrassed by his incompetence, he turned to the overlooking crowd, and gave them rude gesture.

“You can read the sign when I’m bloody well finished!”

Holden the visiting ranger leaned back against the bar to continue his conversation with the barkeep, he noticed a very large man sitting beside him. This hardened was beyond weathered. His skin was tanned and rough like leather and he wore several furs that were layered over his heavy chainmail. Beside him stood a greatclub that balanced on it's own massive weight. Nothing about this man struck Holden as odd until the man drew forth a glass of fine wine and sipped from it with the daintiness of an elf. Seeing the surprised look on the ranger's face, the barkeep smiled and backed away while nodding his head. He apparently foresaw a tale forming that he had been privy to far too many times already.

Almost instantly a conversation brewed between the two men, and if they had taken the time to glance around the room, they would have noticed that half of the patrons had their ears cocked in their direction trying to eavesdrop onto the conversation as best they could. In a gruff and almost guttural voice the barbarian, who introduced himself as Roughner, conveyed his disgust for the fact that he was sitting in town drinking, (of all things), a glass of wine. He went on without provocation into a rant about how he has lost his rage, and in the process become almost dainty. He attempted to slam his glass against the bar, but faltered at the last moment setting it gently down next to what appeared to be a blackened skull. Holden, who had been trying to repress a smirk, suddenly changed his expression as he viewed the hideous skull.

Roughner, noticing Holden's stare, went on to describe how he had managed to demolish a troll and held him down into a pit of fire. He described how when the flesh of the troll had melted away, he pulled the skull forth from the ashes and carved out the center to fashion a helm. After his story, he placed the helm upon his head and slapped it a few times to confirm that it was in place. Those with fine hearing could hear several sounds of disgust from the other patrons.

Holden, convinced that a man who wore a hollowed troll skull should not be drinking a glass of wine with his pinky outstretched, recommended that Roughner seek a powerful cleric to rid him of this apparent curse. Roughner frowned and pointed to the empty glass and stated that he just drank the last of his wealth, and he most likely wasn't going to have such magic performed cheaply (not that the thought of being the target of such magic comforted the barbarian). 

Just then a local man looked up from his drink across the bar. With etched features and a jaw wider then the hilt of his sword, the young fighter heaved up a pouch of coins on the bar, and slid 10 gold towards the barbarian. "Consider this a gift from the VonLeers."

Holden recognized the man as a VonLeer even before the man stated his family's name. They all possessed those similar features, and the family could be found all over the Dales. What had really shocked Holden was the fact that the VonLeers were commonly known to be, "Almost as snooty as they are stingy." Perhaps this one is different he thought. After the VonLeer joined in on the conversation, they learned that his name was Hunter VonLeer.

Meanwhile in the bar, a very average looking human male approached a very unusual looking young woman who was center at one of the taverns center tables scribing into her journal. This woman's history was well known to almost anyone who passed through this town since she was often the topic of much gossip and wives tales. The result of her heritage was that of a half-drow, who was accepted in town, but not without the price of much ridicule and harassment. The man known as Drexel had his own reasoning for initiating this conversation, but Ziona had no objections to having someone to talk to. Without a friend to her name, she welcomed the interaction. Unbeknownst to both of them, another dark and secretive man lurking at a nearby table was also listening to their conversation to the best of his ability. Although this became a difficult task as a very loud and boisterous dwarf broke into song as he continued to add to empty mugs that lined his table.

At this point the feeble man had finished adhering the "Wanted" poster to the wall of the tavern and announced as if he had just crafted some magnificent piece of art, that the document was now available for viewing. Suddenly there was an overwhelming sound of numerous chairs sliding out from tables as the abundance of adventurers currently in the bar became apparent. Due to the awkwardness of the situation, a few people sat back down, while others moved swiftly towards the posting.

Of the first there were Drexel and Ziona. They quickly read that this sign was offering a bounty to the capture of those responsible for raids being conducted in the area of Galath's Roost. A small garrison had been sent to the investigate Galath's Roost, the area believed to be the raiders' base of operations, and had not returned. The bounty offered was 100 gold for each raider captured alive, and 25 gold for proof of any raider killed. 

Upon reading the poster, Drexel turned to notice that the exceptionally quiet man who was sitting near them was now peering over his shoulder reading the text as well. Drexel managed to get a good glance at this man; who was wearing a jet-black suit under his travelers’ cloak: But Drexel didn't really think much of it at the time. By the time Drexel turned back towards Ziona, the man was gone.

Intrigued as well, Holden broke off from the conversation with Roughner and Hunter to investigate the sign himself. After quickly skimming the contents of the sign, the cunning ranger returned to the bar and said, "Roughner, I think we just found how to get you that money!" 

The word "money" interested Hunter instantly, not surprising any onlooker...he was a VonLeer after all. This magical word also drew forth Drexel who was accompanied by Ziona. Within seconds a the details of an adventuring party were being discussed, with Drexel stating several times, "We split everything equally, five ways."

Just as they were agreeing that they would form their group, Drexel asked Ziona to pull down the posting. The eavesdropping, (and feigning drunk) dwarf took this as his queue and smoothly sprung from his seat, walked up to the sign and pulled it down. As Ziona began walking towards the sign, her eyes widened in disbelief as the dwarf placed the poster under his arm. Appalled, Drexel began trading some harsh words with the dwarf. The party quickly calmed as it was recommended that the dwarf just join the group rather then fighting about who should claim the poster.

All in agreement, Roughner the barbarian, Drexel the wizard, Hunter VonLeer the fighter, Holden the ranger, Ziona the half-drow cleric, and Borghain the dwarven rogue gathered their belongings left, heading straight out of town without making a single stop.

Only moments after stepping out of the tavern, the group was followed. The silent man from the bar slipped out back and placed his standard clothes in his pack, revealing a jet-black outfit of outstanding make. Quickly he "ran" up the side of the tavern to the roof to watch these adventurers from a distance.


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## Xaltar (Aug 21, 2002)

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Session 1, Part 2: He who walks in Shadows...
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The party quickly left Ashabenford and began walking the road that would lead them to Galath's Roost. 

Shortly after entering a forested area, Holden's keen eyesight identified that the group had a tail. Drexel took a quick look back and told the party the man in the bar was following them. The party acted as though they hadn't noticed anyone and continued on.

Lurking in the shadows, approximately 40 feet behind the group, a man did his best to travel unseen and unheard. He noticed that one of them was attempting to scout ahead. Not a big surprise he thought, humans in heavy armor and dwarves make for slow travel. Proceeding stealthily through the woods was not difficult when the ones he stalked moved like snails to him.

After some time, he noticed that the scout had not returned, and that the party started glancing behind them on a regular basis. Far too many glances in fact he had been spotted! Not wanting to appear suspicious, he walked onto the road and quickly approached the party. Silently, Holden emerged from the woods as well, nearly twenty feet behind the disguised man. 

Suddenly finding that he himself was the one being followed, he quickly attempted to explain why he had been shadowing the group, "It is my job to avenge the injustice conveyed upon the garrison assigned to investigate Galath's Roost. It appears that we are traveling in the same direction."

Not particularly thrilled that they were being followed, yet taken aback by what appeared to be a non-threatening encounter, the party warily invited this unknown man to join them on their journey. They’re primary concern with adding yet another member was squelched when Drexel brought up his speech about equal shares. The cowled man interrupted, "I have no cares for the bounty, only justice."

With half of the party keeping their eye on the dwarf and the other on the potentially deceptive addition to the party, they continued their march into the early evening.


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## Xaltar (Aug 21, 2002)

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Session 1 - Part 3: The Party’s First Test...
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That night the party carefully chose four watches, each with two party members. After an uneventful first watch, Drexel awoke and joined the existing watch even though it wasn't his turn. He merely stated that he couldn't sleep and no one felt the need to argue with him.

The night was dark and silent, broken only by the faint cracking of the near dwindling fire. Suddenly a large unbridled sound could be heard in the distance, yet its cause was blocked by the endless row of trees surrounding the windy road. The rest of the party quickly woke to the sound of an incoming army smashing through the forest, only to see that this army was an army of one. A large humanoid with crossed eyes and personal hygiene that would offend most orcs was barreling through young saplings and small trees.

The ogre gave the party half-a-second to prepare as he announced, "OKK SAY YOU GIMME YOU MONEY OR OKK GONNA EAT YOU!"

While Borghin and the masked, self-proclaimed warrior of justice took to the woods, Drexel decided that he would deal with this threat quickly and began casting an arcane spell. Drexel cursed the Ogre back into the woods, and in mere moments Okk turned to flee. The party, most of who had previously traveled alone, and never with a spellcaster such as Drexel were downright baffled.

As Okk began running at top speed he screamed, "YOU PEOPLE NO EAT OKK, HE NO TASTY.... WE CAN MAKE DEAL!"

Hunter stood proud waiting for the Ogre to eventually come back; he just kept thinking that the spell would break any time now. A watchful eye may have even noticed the fighter tapping his foot.

Roughner began hitting himself in the head, trying to build up the rage that has lead him forth into battle so many times before...but the rage wasn't coming.

Drexel, Holden, and Ziona moved forward drawing bows and crossbows. They began taking shots at the ogre and even scored a few hits.

Borghin was hidden off the side of the road near the adventurers’ gear, knowing that he was just too slow to attempt running after the dimwitted giant.

Unlike the others who stood their ground, or moved cautiously forward, the masked man who went by the alias Spiderfang, charged forward with great intensity. Seconds later he had caught up to the fleeing monster and began pummeling it in the back with his bare fists. The two sprinted forward into the deepest parts of the forest, traveling hundreds of feet from the campsite.

Drexel nervously informed Holden that the spell's effect should wear off at any moment, and was surprised that it had actually lasted as long as it did.
The entire party grimaced as they witnessed an amazing site off in the distance. 

Without a moments notice, the Ogre firmly planted one foot in the ground, breaking his run. Okk had suddenly found new courage and used his tree trunk like leg to pivot his whole body around to face Spiderfang. 

Seconds after Spiderfang saw the ogre's head turn, he felt the force of Okk's greatclub broadside his face. With an amazing act of brute strength, Okk continued his blow across Spiderfang's face, and readied his weapon for another swing.

From a distance,the party witnessed Spiderfang's face burst into a fountain of blood, yet he managed to remain standing. Drexel and Holden quickly devised a plan, knowing that if they didn't do something immediately, they might lose a party member without ever learning his name.

Spiderfang looked up at the ogre through determined eyes misted with sweat and blood. He could barely see, but he couldn't miss the gigantic humanoid that stood before him. As if he had been in the desperate conversation with Drexel and Holden, he knew that he had few chances left to save himself. As he narrowly dodged the next swing from the mighty ogre, he stood up straight with new determination. With a flick of his wrists, just as he had practiced on so many lonely nights, his gloves hurtled to the ground, revealing flames that burned as bright as torches surrounding his fists.

From the parties viewpoint it was hard to determine what had just happened. The area around Spiderfang and the ogre lit up, to reveal that both were still standing. Drexel began the execution of his plan and cast a spell on one of Holden's arrows. Holden then drew the arrow and shot it into the vicinity of the battle. Although Holden's arrow fell short, the darkness that suddenly surround it's vicinity should still disrupt the fight.

Spiderfang never noticed the darkness surrounding his back since his fists burned bright with magic more powerful then Drexel's spell. He forced his fists toward the ogre in a synchronized double attack. 

Yet as Spiderfang's fist flew forward, the force of Okk's greatclub through him into the air like a rag doll. As his body crumpled under the force of the magnificent club, he let out a blood-curdling cry, the kind reserved for a dying man. Spiderfang, although still alive when he fell limply to the ground, was only moments from taking his last breadth, and no one in the party had a means of reaching him in time.

The party all looked shocked when they heard the scream, and their hopes that the ogre would disengage when surround by darkness was instantly ruined. Quickly they all sprinted around the darkness in an attempt to find both the ogre and their fallen comrade. Okk once again began insisting, "I'M GONNA EAT YOU HUMANS!"

On the backside of the darkness, the party found Spiderfang badly bloodied and barely breathing. Ziona hastily checked his vital signs and informed the party that he has a lot of internal bleeding, but the majority of blood loss has already stabilized. 

Holden looked down at the young girl and noticed that there was hope in her stark lavender eyes. Ziona pulled forth a symbol from under her cloak, of a nude gray skinned elf dancing with a bastard sword. She closed her eyes and with one hand over her holy symbol, and another on the temple of their wounded friend, she called forth divine energies to bring him back to consciousness. Eilistaee, the goddess of good drow and of those that wish to live on the surface in peace, granted her the power to heal her friend.

Okk got lost after attempting to run through the darkness. He had been turned around and couldn't find people to eat anywhere. Sick of playing games with humans, Okk decided that this was a lost cause. Just as he was readying to leave, he noticed that the heroes had emerged from the far side of the darkness. Frustrated and hungry the ogre charged the party as Ziona was still healing Spiderfang.

As Okk charged, Hunter VonLeer stepped up to intercept him. As Okk and Hunter exchanged glancing blows, the party continued to pelt the ogre with bolts and arrows. Only a few moments later, Holden, the young ranger moved to join Hunter on the front line. To the amazement of the party, Holden tumbled behind the gigantic humanoid, drew his great sword as he came out of the roll, and ended his dexterous display by plunging it the square of the ogres back. Okk felt a big pinch into his back, only to notice a thick blade pierce through his chest as Holden sank the sword to the hilt. The ogre crumpled to the ground and Holden proceeded to nonchalantly retrieve the sword from Okk's carcass.

Holden was a man in his early twenties. He wore a weather-beaten outfit and a dusty cloak that marked him as a nomad to any passerby. Harnessing both the skills of a ranger and of a rogue made him a formidable foe indeed, yet the true threat came from his sharp wit. As Holden dusted himself off and regrouped with the party, he pointed to their dark and mysterious friend. He said, "I thought I recognized you, there is no mistaking those hands."

As the rest of the party marveled over the flaming fists, Holden continued with his speech, "You are Spiderfang, a vigilante of the Dales, upholding your own form of justice and have even defeated some powerful monsters."

Holden, not sure is this man was a pretender, or if the rumors were highly exaggerated, he pressed for more information to satisfy his curiosity.

The ogre had managed to knock the cowl off of Spiderfang's face. He was caked with his own blood and the healing hadn't removed all of the swelling, and although his face had been mended, his pride was still broken. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and his pride and responded, "Yes, I am THE Spiderfang, the last member of a monkish fighting order of Spiderfangs."

It was apparent to the party that this particular Spiderfang was a fledgling in comparison to those referred to in local legends. However, this made them feel more comfortable knowing that he wasn't going to overshadow the rest of the party.

The group continued watches throughout the remainder of the night, yet no other threat approached. In the morning they gathered their belongings and headed towards Galath's Roost. As they passed by the fallen ogre, Spiderfang reached in a special pouch and dropped a coin on Okk's bloodied torso. The coin was a mark of the Spiderfang order, displaying a spider on one side, and the scales of justice on the reverse.


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## Xaltar (Aug 21, 2002)

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Session 1 - Part 4: Digging in the Dirt...
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The party continued to travel without event, arriving in the vicinity of the dwarven town Glen during late afternoon. The group halted for a moment to discuss their plans for the night. 

Roughner felt that he could handle another sweet glass of wine, but wasn’t likely to find any in Glen, and therefore refused to enter town. Borghin was reluctant to enter as well; his lack of the typical industrious dwarven attitude had made him an unpopular visitor in the past. He had no intention of becoming the stereotypical dwarven miner or stonemason, and had a tendency to become very stubborn when it was thrown in his face. He was determined that he would not become a ‘nobody’ like his father, and Glen reminded him far too much of his home.

With those opinions stated, none felt the need to argue, so they setup camp off the side of the road. As they had expected, none dared to accost them throughout the night while in such proximity to town.

The following morning, the group hastily covered the remaining distance of their journey and arrived at Galath’s Roost. As the dilapidated structure came into view, they noticed that the cracked and vine covered stone building was surrounded by what was once a moat, but is now nothing more then a bramble filled ravine. 

Holden, taking charge and full advantage of his wilderness talents, lead the party forward to the Roost. As they approached the crumbling keep, it was evident that the moat could be easily crossed since a portion had been filled with dirt. This makeshift bridge led to what appeared to have once been the front gate.

As the party began to draw their weapons and investigate, they turned to notice that Holden was already moving away from the entrance. Reluctantly, they followed the skilled ranger as he continued to investigate the perimeter of the ravine before charging inside.

In the distance to the south, Holden noted that scavenger birds were circling over a small hill near the border of the surrounding forest. He informed the rest of the party and they agreed that they would check it out later.

Upon reaching the front of the keep on the far side, Holden’s sharp eye noticed some tracks on the ground. Looking closer, he found that there were some faint booted tracks that had been nearly covered by a large number of animal tracks. These tracks appeared to be somewhat canine, and while Holden told the group that it was most likely wolves, he actually feared it to be worgs.

The party soon found the reason for all of the traffic in this area. Nearing the woods on the west side of the keep were three graves. They should have been unmarked, but were clearly evident due to the fact that portions of the bodies were unearthed and the flesh had been ravaged from the bone.

Holden rolled up his sleeves and dug into the soft dirt, pulling forth the uneaten portions of the corpses. It was apparent that each body was of a human male in their mid-twenties, and not a single one bore the remnants of any clothing. Slightly disturbed, and preparing for the worst, the party drew their weapons. Holden wiped the dirt from his hands a began tracking the paw prints back to a lair that had been dug under a large hedge that had gone unkempt near the edge of the barren moat. 

As he approached, four aggressive canine creatures sprang forth. With their gnarled teeth and gray and tan spotted fur, these animals looked like a cross between a wolf and a leopard. When it was evident that these humans were not going to withdraw from their den, all four of the beasts did something that can only be described as ‘unnatural’. The party stared in awe as these dog-like monsters pulled back the flesh from their faces leaving the frightening sight of their skinless heads. 

So fearful inspiring was the sight that Borghin and Spiderfang reconsidered their need to be involved in this battle. Although finding the sight disturbing, but not completely horrific, the party quickly dispersed of the threat before they could do any serious harm.

Once Borghin and Spiderfang returned to the party they insisted that the whole incident be forgotten. With this said, everyone was ready to keep the search moving to conserve as much daylight as possible. 

The group now more suspicious of the circling vultures decided to investigate before venturing into the keep. On the way to the distant hill, Borghin’s keen sight spotted what appeared to be a sinkhole. Upon closer inspection of the dark hole, it was thought that this could drop into a dungeon or lower level of the keep. Hunter sneered at the hole in disgust, wanting nothing more then to avoid it altogether.

Hunter not particularly interested in spelunking into dark and ominous caverns, offers to hold the rope for anyone else brave enough to jump down. Borghin’s curiosity had been sparked, he readily volunteered and lowered himself down. As he reached the bottom, he noticed that the area was empty. He called up to the group, “It’s all clear down…HELP!!!”

Slightly stunned by the sudden change in Borghin’s tone, he began heaving. Borghin was all sorts of spooked as he described a large vine that attempted to latch around him, and how he narrowly made it out alive. Drexel, noticing the parties general concern about handling the situation, recommended that they finish their current task before they take any action. 

Holden needed no provocation and returned to leading the group towards the site of expected carrion. Reaching the hill that they had seen from a distance, Holden began searching for tracks, although it was now obvious that the vultures were actually circling a little ways off where the base of the hill slowly sloped into the edge of the forest.

In the process of Holden trying to identify the tracks that he was able to find, he informed the party that this appeared to be some sort of campsite. They needed no further provocation, and began searching as well. After uncovering a few concealing garbage pits, the group gathered around to examine the obscure findings.

As Ziona took her turn picking through the piles of trash, she quickly identified the food as Underdark rations. Her father once a skilled drow warrior had taught her much about her inherited culture, and although had never seen the likes of such food, recognized it immediately.

Holden looking perplexed, eyes Ziona and says, “Well drow don’t ride horses.”

Suddenly very curious, Holden followed the horse tracks across the top of the hill, and then stops in amazement as all evidence of passage ends abruptly. Shaking his head not knowing what to make of it, he rejoins the others as they move down the hill to find several more disrupted gravesites.

Once again with a sigh, Holden rolls up his sleeves and digs into the dirt. This time however, the party finds three partially eaten drow that have been stripped of all belongings. As the other members of the party turn and begin to leave, Ziona kneeled before the disfigured bodies, and said a prayer over their loss.

Convinced that they had completely searched the surrounding area, the group returned to the sinkhole containing the foul tempered foliage. Borghin began tying the rope around his stocky midsection once again. Amidst his endless complaining about the danger to his personal well being, Spiderfang took action.

Using the slippers of the Spiderfang, given to him when by the previous incarnation of the vigilante alias, he began walking down the wall inside the pit. A miraculous site to the others, Spiderfang stood straight off the side the wall, while facing the ground. He began slowly waving his enchanted fists around, using their magical fire to light the corners of the room. Several uncomfortable moments passed as everyone waited for the anticipated attack. 

Finally the wait was over, the deadly vine lurking below lashed out and attempted to rip the intruder from his perch on the rocky wall. Yet, Spiderfang’s magical slippers would not release him from the wall, and the vine began to pull harder.

In the open air above the sinkhole, hiding behind an averagely mundane appearance was a powerful and resourceful wizard. Drexel the son of half-fiend wasn’t about to be waylaid by a plant. He reached into his pack and pulled forth a vile of acid, poring it across the vine. Although the acid wasn’t strong enough to break its hold on Spiderfang, it certainly was effective.

Borghin and Roughner jumped down into the pit while Ziona summoned a Celestial Badger to gnaw through the feisty weed.
Holden brought the battle to a flashy ending when he; dove into the sinkhole, severing the vine with his greatsword, and broke into a roll as he landed unharmed.


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## Xaltar (Aug 21, 2002)

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Session 2, Part 1: Spies emerge from the darkness...
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After pruning the antagonistic plant, the party briefly peered around the cave before retreating to the surface. Hunter still standing steadfast above lowered a rope to help the others, while Spiderfang walked back up the wall.

Back on the surface, the group took a short break to discuss the mystery that was unraveling before them. Drow, mounted raiders, and unmarked graves that were all somehow related. As they rested, the group continued to discuss their next course of action.

As the party finished their short rest, they noticed how quickly the darkness had covered the vicinity of Galath’s Roost. This time of year the sun set early, and the temperature dropped quickly. Although it was cold and dark, the party decided that they would adventure for a few more hours and possibly find a better site to shelter them from the harsh wind.

As they gathered their gear, Borghin pointed out movement in some nearby trees. As the party began to focus, they spotted the threat before they were able to draw their weapons. Two elves were coming out of hiding and approaching the party, and as they drew closer to the party, suddenly it was apparent that these were drow!

Ziona taking a step forward, proud of her heritage and believing that surface dwelling drow could live in peace with the other races that inhabit the Dalelands, hailed the dark elves. The drow, reluctantly returning her hail, kept their weapons sheathed. The party greatly outnumbered these onlookers, yet none seemed eager to test the might of the other.

After a long and uncomfortable moment of silence, one of the drow began to address the party. In common he spoke, “My name is Shidul, and I’m here to inform you that the raiders that you seek are not of our kin, they are humans.”

Holden, wary of their help called back to them, “What business is it of yours then?”

Shidul, quick to rebuke, “These same raiders wiped out our camp located nearby, and we have tracked them to this vicinity.”

The party informed the dark duo of the unmarked drow graves to the south, and the two groups ended their encounter as the drow withdrew in an unspoken truce. Not sure of the true intent of the drow, or their reasoning for providing information, the party decided to keep moving.

Hunter still refusing to jump down into what looked like a naturally formed sewer, firmly grabbed his rope, and said; “I’ll lower you down and will keep watch up here.”

Once again the remainder of the party began exploring the cave. They decided to follow a swift flowing stream to the west. Holden commented that the stream would be flowing downhill. Unsure of the significance to the adventure, the party took it for a valid excuse to continue forward.

As they moved downstream, the party came to a musty area containing several compost piles covered with an abundance of mushrooms and other fungi. As they looked around, they noticed with disgust that several gigantic ants were maintaining these piles. A third pile formed of rocks and sand was formed against the south wall, reaching nearly to the ceiling, and contained several large holes.

One of the ants, larger then the others was the first to react to the party. Its mandibles began clicking with an unsettling sound, and the group knew that they had wandered into unwelcome territory.

Spiderfang, the first to react rushed forward and attempted to vault across the stream and charge one of the worker ants. Borghin noticing that the monk had miscalculated his jump, rushed to pull the flailing Spiderfang from the rushing water.

Roughner, who had been traveling on the far side of the stream to begin with, rushed the solider ant and took a heavy-handed swing. Yellow puss and guts exploded across the room as the greatclub impacted against the ant’s carapace. The goop sprayed out and managed to cover a good portion of Ziona’s traveling cloak.

While Borghin and Spiderfang defended against a rushing worker ant, Drexel and Ziona pelted the ants with crossbow fire. Meanwhile, Holden had run up to aid Roughner, and the two successfully slaughtered the last remaining ant.


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## Xaltar (Aug 21, 2002)

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Session 2, Part 2: On the verge of collapse...
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As the party cleaned themselves off from the barrage of ant guts, Holden informed the group that an ant colony must have a queen nearby. Keeping this in mind and ready for more action, the party proceeded to climb into the anthill on their hands and knees. Roughner was more then obliging when it was recommended that he remain at the entrance to keep any ants from entering.

Holden boldly led the party into the cramped passageways. Things were going smoothly, until a portion of the ground began collapsing under his weight, dropping Holden into another passage. As he lay there stunned, dirt and sand quickly poured down on him like rain.

With the sound of Holden’s muffled cry, the party taken aback comes to a halt. The sudden stop only makes matters worse as the dirt beneath Drexel’s legs gives way, dropping him partially into a lower level. The party begins to panic as they realize how unsafe this bug made passage really is. 

As Holden begins to pull himself free he notices that he bumped something solid with his boot. Before he can inform the others, Drexel calls out in excruciating pain as a pair giant-size mandibles tear deeply into his calf. Drexel now spitting blood begins yelling for help while his deep wound fills with the swiftly sinking sand.

Back in the front of the line, Holden finds himself able to draw the ant up and into the passageway after him. As the ant moves forward, it finds itself flanked by Holden’s sharp sword, and a swift back kick from Spiderfang.

With one threat taken care of, Ziona does her part by wrenching free the now unconscious Drexel. As she pulled him back into their tunnel, she managed to catch her hand on something unseen but sharp on his forehead. Yet there was no time to inspect Drexel’s disguised anatomy. With little easy the angered ant came up and into the tunnel with the party. Already covered in Drexel’s blood it rushed forward to finish off the intruder. 

Borghin quickly pivoted in the narrow tunnel and plunged his sword into the back section of the giant bug. The ant’s head jerked violently back towards Borghin as his guts gushed out of its hind section. The body of the ant shuddered slightly before the legs went limp and left it slightly twitching in a puddle of its own entrails.

Finally given a moment of safety, Ziona called upon her divine healing powers to restore Drexel to a conscious state. Grossed out, spooked, and feeling slightly claustrophobic, the entire party instantly retreated from the anthill.

As they immerged from the dirt pile, each shaking themselves off as if they were covered in spiders, Roughner couldn’t help but smirk.


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## Xaltar (Aug 22, 2002)

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Session 2, Part 3: A foul smelling apparition...
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Once out of the sand-filled deathtrap, the party regrouped and began to regain their composure. The all watched as Borghin's eyes brightened, as bad joke-tellers' eyes often do right before they dip into their plethora of bad one-liners. "Y'know... that wasn't an ant hill... that was an ant HELL. ...Hah!!" 

Deciding that they couldn’t take another joke like that, they quickly returned to following the stream. From this point the water split off into two directions, and the party followed to stronger of the currents to the southwest. About thirty feet downstream was a wide and shallow pool where the water stopped.

Peering into the water, they noticed that it was unusually green and murky. Pooling their combined knowledge, Drexel determined that the water appeared poisonous, and Borghin’s dwarven understanding of rock formations indicated the bottom didn’t appear to be either man-made or properly eroded.

Not wanting to mess with poisonous water, the part shifted its focus to searching the surrounding area. The walls were very unusually formed, with many crevices, and within each was a bottle of wine. The party mused at the clever use of a wine rack only to notice with shock as Roughner began drawing a picnic cloth from his pack, and from within his hearty sized stein hanging at his side, he drew forth a very delicately stashed wine glass.

As the rest of the party stifled their laughter and the dwarf added a few snide comments, Holden grabbed for a bottle of wine and heard a hiss as he pulled it from the shelf. Evident that there was a large snake in the makeshift wine-shelf the party began peering into the holes from a distance. It could be seen that the snake partially coiled covered at least 5 feet of the shelf.

Holden decided that he would move up to investigate the shelf closer. Minutes later, the head of the large viper sprung forth and sunk its venomous teeth into his outstretched arm. Reeling in pain he took a step back, while Borghin jumping to the rescue, drew his sword and chopped the snake’s head clean off.

Now that the snake was taken care of, Holden was starting to notice how badly the poison was affecting him. He hobbled over to a nearby corner and took a seat. Meanwhile Spiderfang and Roughner raided the wine rack. Roughner, even with his daintiness, managed to break about as many bottles as he saved.

Holden, feeling very weak, easily convinced the party to make camp here for the night. This wine shelter appeared to be safe and Spiderfang confirmed that there were many layers of untouched dust on the remaining bottles of wine.

As the group took settled down for the night around their cozy campfire, Ziona and Drexel took first watch. After Ziona had finished praying to her goddess during the rising of the moon, Drexel decided it was time tell her about his secret. He began the discussion by talking about how Ziona’s goddess Eilistraee believed that all races could live in peace. With a little twisting he got onto the subject of his own history, as a tiefling who had escaped from Thay. The discussion ended with Drexel removing his enchanted hat of disguise and revealing his true form to her. Having always been different from those around her, Ziona was very accepting and felt good knowing that Drexel had chosen to confided in her.

Very shortly after their conversation, as if waiting for them to finish, a wavering ghostlike voice resounded through the cavern asking, “Whooo Goooes There?”

Ziona quickly worked to wake the others while Drexel gave Spiderfang a light kick. Not hearing a response, the voice angered, “What do the living seek in the sepulcher of Galath the betrayed? Betrayed by small-minded men, glory seekers and snivelers!”

Drexel replied, “We are humble adventurers avenging the wrongful deaths of the keep guardians.”

“Is that so,” the voice questioned. “If you are truly heroes then know this, leave my resting place, and I will leave you unharmed. Furthermore, there is a winged-beast dwelling above that taunts my existence. If you bring me it’s head, I will reward you with one-tenth of my legendary treasure.”

The party began waking up and gathering their belongings. They were not incredibly anxious to start trouble with an ethereal entity, and Borghin was extremely apprehensive about encountering a ghost.

Yet Drexel was still a bit suspicious of the so-called ghost and listened intently to focus on the source of the voice and determined that it was coming from the pool of murky water. Amidst the commotion of the others picking up camp, he was able to call upon arcane magic to detect the presence of magic auras. While focusing in the direction of the voice, he noticed three such auras at the bottom of the pool.

“It’s a hoax,” he shouted.

Dropping everything but their weapons, the group began to ready themselves against the invisible threat. Drexel was the first to react, using his magic to pull one of the items from the pool. Spiderfang witnessed a wand fly from the water past his head and into Drexel’s grip.

Holden, still weak from his poisoning, managed to move away from the camp and hide within the shadows just before the center of the camp filled with a noxious vapor. The stench was horrible, driving everyone out of the area. Drexel, Roughner, and Ziona made it out unaffected, with Borghin the pushing as fast as his short legs would take him, gagging and spitting up the whole way to safety.

Spiderfang, also deeply affected by the choking cloud, decided that the fastest way out of the affected area was by wading through the pool of green water. In the meantime, Holden had noticed something swim up stream and past him, something resembling displaced water.

Minutes later as the fumes dispersed, Spiderfang was found still gagging on the far side to the murky pool. When he regained his composure, he stated that the pool wasn’t poisonous, but that the air sure was.

When Holden told the party that he thought he saw whatever it was swim away, Spiderfang had no qualms about going back into the water and seeing what was really down there. The party worked into the night dredging thousand of corroded coins from the pool. They also found the corpse of a long decade dwarf with a longsword and a scroll case containing arcane inscribed scrolls. Feeling even after looting the ghost of Galath’s hidden treasure, the group decided that it was best if they spent the remainder of the night above ground.

As the group returned to the sinkhole, they noticed that the rope was still hanging. Everyone glanced around and realized that they had left Hunter VonLeer on his own. Borghin made a statement that unnerved the rest of the party, “What if there is just an arm left up there still holding onto the rope.”

Cautiously Ziona stepped forward and tugged on the rope, thankfully finding it was still attached to something larger then a severed hand. Hunter jolted awake as the party called out to him. He had actually fallen asleep while standing and wasn’t exactly sure how much time had past. The party guiltily took advantage of the situation, and began to setup camp on the surface.

Although reasonably dressed for the season the party still found the night chilly, but Spiderfang had made several trips into the brisk water and was now starting to develop a nasty cough.


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## Xaltar (Aug 22, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 2, Part 4: What’s all the buzz about...
-------------------------------------------

After the long night, the party was off to slow start the next morning. Spiderfang woke to find that his outfit was stiff and very uncomfortable. Irritable and tired the party was prepared to rest another day while Drexel took the 16 hours needed to identify the two items they had pulled from the murky pool the previous evening.

Before most of them managed to pry themselves from the warmth of their bedrolls, they were approached by two elves. These two elves appeared be brothers, nearly identical in appearance, and seemingly ageless to the majority of the party. They hailed the party upon sight, but stopped a safe distance from the group.

“It is over an hour after dawn, you humans are sure making poor use of your time,” bellowed one of the elves in the group’s direction. 

After a few snobbish remarks from the elves, especially one biting comment regarding Ziona’s heritage, it was determined that both groups were roughly on the same side, and were seeking the raiders. Ironically the party thought, these elves were in a very similar predicament to the two drow they had encountered the night before. The elves were also looking for one of their missing comrades, Inialos Oakwood.

The elves shared information with the group about what details they had on the raiders, and the location of the drow graves to the south. Drexel, annoyed with the pompous attitudes of the elven rangers, quickly retorted that they had already discovered the drow remains. He then questioned the elves on their thoughts about the other unmarked graves.

Having not found any other graves, they claimed that they didn’t know what Drexel was referring too. Drexel’s setup was perfect, and he followed through with, “Well, I guess our human ranger is just more adept at tracking.”

Drexel had scored a critical blow against the Elven egos, and it showed by the stunned looks on their faces. The brothers, deciding that they didn’t appreciate being the recipients of the snide remarks, bade the party good luck in a sarcastic tone and departed. 

After the elven ranges had left, the group began setting up camp around Drexel to protect him from any possible interruptions. The party had discovered some valuable items, and they were all anxious to know what they were.

It wasn’t until early afternoon that the party had noticed anything out of the usual. Holden was the first to spot what appeared to be a gigantic bee. As the others were listening to the approaching buzzing, Holden had readied an arrow, and fired it into the body of the creature. Enraged, the bee flew directly towards Holden and plunged it’s stinger deep into his flesh. Moments after the bee’s stinger ripped off it’s abdomen, it fell to the ground dead.

The party congratulated Holden on his unconventional means of defeating the bee. Not amused by the other’s comments, Holden decided that he wouldn’t be terribly disappointed if he could manage a full day without being poisoned.

After 16 long hours of spell casting, the party once again called it a night. Luckily, yet another evening passed without rampaging ogres or haunting ghosts. In the morning, the party picked up their gear and headed back into the sinkhole to see what other mysteries they could unravel.

Hunter once again was more then willing to stand guard over the hole, and held the rope for the others as they descended back into the dark cavern. The adventurers decided to continue through the door near the area containing the naturally formed wine rack.

Upon reaching the door, Borghin stepped up to investigate for potential dangers. He reported to the party that it wasn’t trapped; in fact, it didn’t even have a locking mechanism. Agreeing that they should enter, Borghin gave the door a tug only to find that it was stuck. 

Borghin, Holden, and Roughner decided that they would make short work of this challenge and each put a hand on the door handle. After the first unsuccessful try, they decided to try it again with a little more “UMPH.” To their dismay, their added “UMPH” managed to rip the handle straight off of the door. Behind them Ziona and Drexel exchanged disbelieving glances. Nearly fifteen minutes later, the party managed to pry the door free of it’s frame using Borghin’s crowbar.

As the door opened, they were overwhelmed by the sweet smell of flowers and honey. Looking around, it was evident that the honeycomb covering the walls had also sealed the door. The party also noticed a loud hum, and they knew instantly that this is where the giant bee that they encountered near the camp had come from.

Moment’s later over ten more giant bees rushed the intruders. Proving to be little match for the strong arms of the front line and Drexel’s wand of magic missles, the party pressed forward until they found and dispatched of the queen.

After exterminating the Queen and her workers, Borghin began slicing up the pupa covering the walls of the Queen’s chamber, ensuring that there would be no more bees next season.

Holden, pulled out a couple of the wine bottles in which he, Borghin, and Roughner had personally emptied with great pleasure, and began filling then with what he thought to be a very valuable commodity; honey.


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## Ziona (Aug 22, 2002)

Rossal Loves Honey!!


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## Xaltar (Aug 24, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 3, Part 1: The look of disgust…
------------------------------------------- 
Continuing south from the Bee Hive, They noticed that the cave continued for a short ways and then sharply ended. There was however a crack in the wall that a person could wiggle through, and it was guarded by two aggressive kobolds. 

Spiderfang and Drexel were able to able to translate the sharp yipping sounds as warnings spoken by the kobolds in a form of butchered Draconian. The party soon found that their threats were hollow as each creature fell to the first barrage of crossbow fire. 

Moving up to the crack in the wall, the party let Borghin go first to check things out. He said that it was an empty hallway, so the others followed without hesitation. Rougher came through last in case he was too large and got stuck in the crevice. 

Once the party entered the hall they noticed three major features: a crumbled and caved-in staircase to the west, a bend in the passage to the east, and a silky black stone centered on the south wall. Borghin quickly approached the door, at first searching for traps, and then resorted to looking for anything that would act as either a lock or handle. 

Holden, noticing Borghin’s difficulty in discovering a mechanism to open the door, began to search the door as well. Holden hid a few of those roguish talents up his sleeve as well. 

The others were growing tired of the ineffectiveness of the search, until they heard the sound of more kobolds around the corner to the east. Using the call of battle as an excuse to interrupt the dullness of the unfruitful search, the party readied for action. 

As the group came running around the corner, they noticed that the hallway ended in a storage room that was now overtaken by a small kobold camp. These kobolds hearing the party’s preoccupation with the nearby door and had prepared for battle as well. They were also employing the aid of a very scraggly looking dire weasel. 

The battle should have been very simple, in theory. The party knew that they had the upper hand, but decided that they would show off. Drexel, who was the first to fire managed to hastily load his crossbow and sent his bolt spinning out of control into the air. 

Ziona attempting to place a shot over Holden’s shoulder, managed to lodge the bolt directly into his back. Borghin also fumbled his shot, narrowly missing Spiderfangs head. Meanwhile Rougher reaching back with his greatclub to take a hearty swing, clubbed Drexel in the head, nearly knocking him unconscious. All of the commotion also took Spiderfang by surprise, breaking his concentration and skinned his hand against the tight and jagged wall. 

Holden, the only one who didn’t folly during the combat began cutting through the kobold front line. The others managed to pull themselves together and joined Holden in the onslaught of the feeble creatures. 

During the combat, one kobold in particular had retreated back and was hiding behind some crates and barrels. After the party had torn through their final line of defense, Spiderfang ran up and called out for the hiding kobold to show himself. 

“NOOOO, YOU LEAVE LEPER ALONE,” it whined in draconic. 

Believing the comment about leprosy to be a ploy, Spiderfang proceeded to leap over the barrels and knocked the kobold into unconsciousness with one swift hit from the palm of his hand. 

After the situation was under control, Holden began searching the barrels for any possible treasure that these filthy creatures may have. He was pleasantly surprised when he found several jars of uneaten honey. 

Meanwhile, Spiderfang opened a large create near the unconscious kobold, only to find a good size half-orc curled up, and upside-down in the box. He was covered in bee stings from head to toe and was rather incoherent. Ziona stepped up to heal the tortured man. 

He was grateful for the healing, although still weakened by the effects of the poison. As Drexel had surmised, the man, who called himself Udbul, claimed that the kobolds used him to retrieve honey from the beehive, and forced him to live in a box. 

At first sorry for the man, the party continued to talk to him. Udbul was truly thankful for being saved and was willing to answer any of the questions that they party asked of him. 

He revealed information regarding his status as working for the Zhents, and how often his raiding party came to the area. At some point the conversation turned in an obscure fashion. The group asked Udbul if he had any children, and after a moment of thought he said, surely I must have several scattered across the Dalelands. 

Holden was the first to be offended by Udbul’s response, “No doubt from all of the women you have raped!” 

Udbul, astonished by the accusation, replied, “NO, NO… I usually pay!” 

Disgusted, the party told the half-orc to leave, and to leave quickly. At first reluctant to travel back through the beehive, the look in eyes of the party convinced him otherwise. 

Once Udbul had left their presence, Holden slung the limp kobold over his shoulder and the group jumped in shock as they heard an explosion from the main hallway. As they looked around, it was obvious that Borghin and Drexel had been messing with the door again while the others had interrogated the half-orc Zhent.


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## Thorntangle (Sep 3, 2002)

Still haven't recovered the rest of the story? That's a shame. I was looking forward to reading it.


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## Xaltar (Sep 4, 2002)

Looks like I have to go ahead and rewrite it.  I'll try to get a portion done tomorrow night!


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## Thorntangle (Sep 4, 2002)

Excellent!


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## Xaltar (Sep 5, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 3, Part 2: Who is the ghost haunting Galath’s Roost…
------------------------------------------- 
Just around the corner, Borghin and Drexel had gone back to investigating the mysterious glossy black door. Borghin sat back to watch as the know-it-all wizard thought he could find something that the dwarf had overlooked. 

As soon as Drexel touched the surrounding doorframe, there was a large explosion. The blast lifted him off of his feet and blew him against the hallway wall opposite the door. Borghin stared in amazement at his severely hurt friend as he himself stood there completely unharmed. 

Before Borghin could even muster his wits to call for help, the others were rounding the corner with great speed. Ziona, one of the first to investigate the loud “BOOM”, rushed over to heal the now unconscious Drexel. 

Just as the group showed up in its entirety, a ghostly elven figure partially emerged through the door. Eerily appearing in its ethereal form, an elven knight clad in gleaming plate armor and a shield bearing two golden stags. Armed with a bastard sword, he loomed over the fallen Drexel and demanded, “Who interrupts the rest of Lyklor Kelerandri?” 

“Drow in my Tower,” Lyklor asked as he eyed the group that stood before him and focused on Ziona’s presence. 

“You’re the monster,” spouted Drexel. 

“Yeah…JERK,” followed Spiderfang with roughly the same lack of tact. 

Not wanting the situation to turn into a disaster, Holden stepped in front of the group and began trying to calm the infuriated ghost. He informed Lyklor that the tower was no longer standing, and that his group, including Ziona, was now working against human and drow raiders in the area. 

After some fast-talking, Holden managed to convince the apparition that the party was working on the same side. Reluctant, but willing to help the group as long as they didn’t attempt to enter the elven burial grounds that he was guarding. The ghost, confined to the crypt was only able to offer information, but none of it was new, so the party bade Lyklor farewell and continued on to explore the remainder of Galath’s Roost. 

During Holden’s conversation with Lyklor, Drexel retreated around the corner. He had believed the apparition was able to see through the illusionary magics that hid his true identity. Spiderfang who was told to move back by the others after he had offended the ghost also joined Drexel. 

While waiting for the seemingly endless conversation that ranged from drow to the more current events in the Dalelands, these two decided they would interrogate Leper, the kobold prisoner by the same name as the disease that he claimed to carry. 

Spiderfang began nudging the unconscious creature with his foot until it woke up. As it awoke, Drexel charmed him. In moments Leper was more then willing to share his vast wealth of knowledge with his new best friend. Leper was overjoyed in fact, since he had never been treated so nicely before, in fact he had never had another friend. 

Spiderfang and Drexel tried desperately to find out if Leper was in fact diseased. He could only inform them that he had no idea. In fact, he didn’t know what leprosy was, and that he was merely told by the now slain elder member of the tribe that he had it and therefore that was his name. 

Frustrated, the two decided they would question the kobold for other useful information. They asked about where the kobold’s base of operations was. Drexel almost bit through his lip when he learned that this kobold’s idea of the huge dungeon in which he lived included only the room that they were in and the connecting hallway. Not only were they trying to deal with a kobold, but also they managed to spare the dumbest one. 

Spiderfang and Drexel decided that they were getting nowhere, but figured that it would stay out of trouble if it continued to believe that Drexel was still it’s friend. Leper would settle for nothing less than to fight along his newfound hero’s side. Therefore; when Holden’s conversation with the ghost was finished, the three of them: Spiderfang, Drexel, and Leper rejoined the others.


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## Xaltar (Sep 5, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 3, Part 3: Hooked on Roughner...
------------------------------------------- 
The party continued back through the beehive and followed the stream to the north to find the creature that had posed as Galath’s ghost on the first night. Holden had sworn that he had seen something swim off during that encounter. 

With Holden in the lead, they soon found a pool where this part of the stream ended. Although the surroundings appeared to be a natural cave, there was a set of carved stairs that appeared to lead up into the dilapidated keep above. 

As the party drew nearer to the water, a few of the members spotted something moving in the water. As if in slow motion, the air quickly filled with the toxic fumes as Spiderfang and Holden lept directly into the brisk 15 feet deep water. 

The next couple of minutes were completely chaotic for the group. People were running every which way trying to avoid the toxic fumes, but also trying to get in on the action. 

Once the party had all made it around the gas to the surface of the pool, they found that Holden and Spiderfang were having a great deal of difficulty fighting the water mephit in its natural environment. Furthermore, the mephit had successfully gated in a friend, and the two watery fiends were putting up a good deal of resistance. 

From above Drexel blasted the creatures with his wand of magic missles, but the others found that there was little they could do. That is until one of the mephits tore into Spiderfang’s chest with its claws, sending him into unconsciousness. It was apparent to the others as his body went limp, that he was going to drown before he bled to death. 

Immediately Borghin readied his grappling hook to fish for Spiderfang, yet his first attempt to fish him out failed. Desperate, Drexel demanded Roughner to jump into the water and help. Roughner had only hesitated due to the fact that he wore heavy chain, and was bound to sink to the bottom of the pool rather then being effective in combat. 

Without further prodding, he lept into the pool just as Borghin made his next cast into the water with his grappling hook. Ziona, waiting on the bank to heal Spiderfang closed her eyes as she witnessed the grappling hook catch Roughner in the face right beneath his troll-skull helmet. 

The now murky water was quickly turning a light shade of pink with all of the blood that had been spilled. None of the party members could see what was happening until Borghin’s rope went taught. As he braced himself against the weight and began pulling in the line, he found that he caught Roughner who in turned managed to grab onto Spiderfang. 

As Roughner laid the limp body of Spiderfang on the ground, Ziona rushed over to assist. His lips we cold and colorless, but with her extensive knowledge of the healing arts, she managed to resuscitate the young monk. 

Knowing that Spiderfang was going to be okay, Holden took one last breath and dove back into the dark pool to skewer his friend’s attacker as Drexel pounded it with magic missles. They had had enough of these mischievous mephits, and quickly ended the battle. 

Emerging victorious from the pool, Holden and Roughner were far less then thrilled knowing that they were going to remain soaking wet for a while. The others were the ones whom seemed most affected due to the resulting souring smell created by Roughner’s soaked hides. 

Still early in the day, the group gathered up their belongings and trudged up the stairs to investigate what other threats remain above. 

Map from Dungeon # 87


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## Xaltar (Sep 5, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
The Party at this Point:
-------------------------------------------

Ziona - Half-Drow Cleric
Drexel - Tiefling Wizard
Hunter VonLeer - Human Fighter
Spiderfang (Tansooth) - Human Monk
Holden - Human Ranger/Rogue
Borghin - Dwarven Rogue/Warrior
Roughner - NPC Human


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## Hammerhead (Sep 5, 2002)

Rogue/Warrior? Not fighter?

Great story; it's nice to read it again.


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## Thorntangle (Sep 23, 2002)

++ Bump ++


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## Xaltar (Sep 24, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 4, Part 1: Playing the part...
-------------------------------------------

As Drexel looked down at the potentially leprous kobold he said, “YEAH! You’re going home!”

“But you’re my only friend!”

“That spell wore off!” Drexel retorted, shaking his head. 

“But you’re my only friend!”

Finally Drexel got the hint across with, “Get Lost”, and Leper ran off towards the direction of Galath’s Roost, heartbroken.

Annoyed by the distraction, especially since time was quickly running out, the party discussed their next course of action. They had spent a full day planning their last battle, but never thought about how they were going to get into or through the Zhent outpost on the other side of the portal.

Roughner, who had been quiet for a while peered through the portal and turned back with a worried look on his face, “Now what?”

Ziona recommended that they just wait the ten-day and come back when they can reopen the portal. Several of the other party members thought that waiting might not be a bad idea. That was until Grack spoke up, “Uh, well, their going to be upset if the raiding party doesn’t show back up on time.”

Suddenly a plan clicked, with less then five more minutes to prepare, they quickly began to disguise themselves in the clothes of the fallen raiding party. Borghin used his swift skill with rope to create makeshift bonds that could be easily freed. He gave a set to Ziona, Hunter, and Spiderfang while he put another over his own wrists. Drexel donned the robe of the mage, and Holden wore those vestments of the fallen cleric. Roughner was told that he was their ‘new mercenary’, replacing the cowardly half-orcs.

As the others rode through the portal, Holden delayed a moment. After the others had passed, he took out his great sword and chopped the hand off of cleric’s corpse lying at the base of the portal. Thinking that this may be his only way home, he justified his own actions, and placed the severed hand in his bag. Jumping on his horse, he followed the others to their fate at the Zhent outpost.

With less then a minute to spare the party arrived at the Zhent outpost. They appeared on a rocky path that leads to the entrance of the citadel. Above it was evident that there were at least two arrow slits that could be used against them. They were going to have to bluff their way in, but nobody said anything.

“Hail,” came a booming voice that knocked the group back into the reality of the situation.

Drexel replied in a gruff voice, “Please, we have no time for your useless banter! Let us in this instant or I’ll bring down Bane’s might.”

With some audible grumbling coming from within the guard tower, they began to extend the mechanized bridge that covered the ten-foot wide chasm protecting the front gate. Drexel turned back to the others and smiled, “Just need to know how to talk to these evil people. Now we need to get in there and take them down as fast as possible”

Grack looked back towards Drexel and asked, “What exactly are we doing anyway?”

Realizing that maybe he had said more then he should have, “Yeah, well you see…we’re just going to take over the keep and become more powerful, you want to become more powerful right?”

Grack suddenly looked a little paranoid. “Uh Yeah, I want to be powerful.”

“Good, then you lead.”
As the bridge clicked into place, Grack nervously urged his horse forward across the bridge. When they all got to the other side, two guards standing behind a porculous stopped them. They quickly looked over the party, and eyed the prisoners.

“You took an awful lot of casualties for having so many prisoners,” one of the guards bluntly stated.

Drexel quick to keep their cover, “Well, we captured these then were ambushed and the half-orc cowards ran! Although we’ve got this new guy in the back though, now he is a good mercenary.”

“Ahh, don’t lie, we kicked yer arse!” Shouted Borghin.

The guard was appalled, “Gag that prisoner!”

“Yeah, please do,” added Hunter, who was also supposed to be a prisoner. 

Roughner trying to save the situation jumped down and ‘roughed’ them up a bit. Content but still reluctant, the guards agree to let the raiding party in, but eyed them all of the way down the main hall.


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## Xaltar (Sep 24, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 4, Part 2: Freeing the slaves...
-------------------------------------------

A short ways down the hall, Grack lead the party to the stables where his raiding party’s horses were kept. As they stabled the horses, Holden took a few minutes to search around for the horse named Axel that they had been sent to recover. 

Looking in each of the closed stables was tedious business. The first several had nothing more then standard livestock including animals such as sheep. As Holden opened one door towards the far end of the hall, he noticed that the stall was completely full of mud and had been converted into a pigpen. However, the obvious factor had to be the large wild pig that charged the surprised ranger.

One of the pig’s small tusks punctured into Holden’s mid-gut leaving a very serious wound. It wasn’t long before the whole party went to his aid. The wild pig was no match for Holden’s greatsword, but it had still managed to inflict several grave wounds before it met its untimely demise. Holden while shaking his head as Ziona bandaged his wounds said, “I will never touch PORK again!”

Holden and Drexel shoved the dead pig back into his stall and shut the door while Ziona and the other mock prisoners resumed their disguise. They had managed to regain their composure just in time as a guard from the front gate had arrived to investigate the noise.

As the guard demanded an explanation, Drexel poked Grack in the ribs. Grack in turn spoke, “Uh, well…Uh you see the horse reared and the dwarf feel off onto the floor. We’re bringing them down to the stockade now, so there won’t be any more disruptions.”

Satisfied, although somewhat suspicious, the guard left the party and returned to his post. The group quickly moved down the hall following Grack to the prison area so they could keep moving before their cover was entirely blown.

After they descended the stairs into the lower level of the citadel, two human guards greeted them. “We’ll take them from here,” stated one of the armored guards.

“Perhaps we should give you a hand, there are quite a few prisoners,” responded Holden as he began moving up and past the first guard.

As the guard began turning to face him, Holden drew his sword and slashed a brutal wound across the flat of the guard’s back. His partner turned to witness his fallen ally and as he turned back around to face the party, he realized that a crossbow bolt had just sunk into his forehead. 

The man fell to the ground dead from the single shot.  Borghin stood across from the man, having slipped out of his poorly tied bonds, with a big smile on his face and a crossbow in his hands.

Drexel relieved the guards of their keys and they continued to explore around. The party proceeded to explore a passageway to the north. After decesding a long and slowly sloping set of stairs, the party came to a room that was roughly shaped like a hand. As they peered into the room, they noticed that in each finger shaped alcove, there was a pedestal with a drum on it, except for the center alcove, which contained three levers.

In the center of the room was a large grate that was about 10 feet long and 15 feet wide. The foul stench of decay rose from underneath the grate, while the ceiling vaulted in the center above, and lit the room with a glowing light source. There was an unholy feeling associated with the room that sent a sudden shiver up her spine.

The party was not thrilled about searching this room, so they began climbing the stairs back towards the prison chambers. As the turned to leave, they didn’t notice that Borghin’s curiosity had gotten the better of him again. He rushed forward, attempting to jump over as much of the grate as he could. Although he landed on grate in roughly the center, the cold iron bars did not falter and drop him to the obvious pit of darkness that lied below. 

With the remainder of the party almost halfway up the stairs, he quickly searched the levers for traps, and began pulling them. He turned as did the rest of the party upon hearing a large clanging. The center section of the grate had swung down into the pit. As a hand covered in rotten flesh reached forth from the now open grate, Borghin yelled, “GUYS, HELP!” 

Turning to see the undead hand reaching for her friend,  Ziona charged down the stares and peered into the dark pit separating her from Borghin. There were three ghoulish monsters attempting to climb they’re way out.  Ziona called forth the power of Elistraee with such strong conviction that the undead monsters burst apart and disintegrated. Even the presence of Bane’s evil aura wasn’t enough to diminish her righteous might.

With Borghin safely back across the pit, the party headed up the stairs and back to the prisoners quarters. Drexel, using his magically enchanted hat to alter his appearance, made himself appear to be one of the guards that had greeted them when they first entered the lower level. He also convinced Grack to lead since this may not go smoothly.

As Grack and Drexel entered into the next room under the pretense that they were delivering prisoners, the two half-orc guards appeared to be rather skeptical. Unsure if it was because they had heard the commotion outside, or if it was Drexel’s tone of voice, the party took little time to remedy the situation by dispatching of the guards.

Searching the bodies of the guards, they found a handful of keys. They began by unlocking the furthest door. Manacled in the corner was a knight in platemail. He appeared to be unkempt, but also unharmed. He introduced himself to the group as Kurud, a Paladin of Torm. As Drexel searched through the keys to unlock the prisoner, he found that the manacle keys were not present on this ring, yet Borghin stepped forward and with a little work, freed the lock.

The next occupied cell contained both a male moon elf and a female drow. It appeared that they had enough slack for both reach the food, or each even other in the middle. However, both had retreated to one side or the other.  This was obviously some sort of sick joke setup by the now deceased jailers.

The party quickly released the elf, but left the drow. Gwenect Moondark, the still chained drow insisted that if the party frees her, she would grant them a favor. Looking to the newly freed moon elf, Inialos Oakwood for the final vote, he nodded in her favor. Holden was far from comfortable with the idea, and he insisted that he would always walk behind her…he wanted to be the one to do the backstabbing, not the other way around.

The last inhabited cell contained several beaten, abused, and malnourished humans. Among them was Walter; the young stable hand that had been kidnapped. The party began distributing food to the half staved prisoners and told them to remain in this guard area until the party found a way for them to escape. Most everyone was content, except for Kurud who insisted that he aid the party in taking over the citadel.

Drexel, realizing how much time they had taken to get this far into the citadel quickly asked Grack to go back and check the paladin’s cell for his sword. Grack was reluctant at first to the fact that they would keep Kurud’s weapon in his cell. Drexel convinced Grack that he had seen it in there, and that a real friend would check regardless.

As Grack walked into the cell to investigate, Drexel slammed the door shut and locked it. “Hey guys, this isn’t funny. Ha-ha, now let me out.” Grack went on until the Drexel’s spell wore off and the others couldn’t help but chuckle.

Drexel, Ziona, Borghin, Roughner, Hunter, Holden, Spiderfang, and their new companion Kurud moved out to explore the remainder of the Zhent citadel. As they left the inner prison and returned to the entry room of the lower level, a secret door swung open. Standing in the doorway was a heavily armored cleric wielding a morningstar.

The battle escalated as another cleric and an acolyte of Bane joined in the fray. After quickly disposing of the first cleric, Holden, Hunter and Spiderfang forced the other back and into his room while Drexel and Borghin accosted the acolyte with spells and bolts. The remaining cleric posed a significant threat to the party however. Not only was unbelievably well armored, he had an invisible ally interfering with the party.

When Ziona moved forward she called to the others, “I can’t see what your fighting…where is it?”

Rossal took this as his cue and poked his head out from under Ziona’s cloak. He used his telepathy to inform the others of the direction of they’re invisible antagonist. Once the monster had been located, Hunter sliced through the air. The halves of an imp’s corpse and a stream of blue-black blood as Hunter used his own form of ‘Dispel Magic.’

Meanwhile Spiderfang using his quarterstaff went toe-to-toe with the armored cleric while Holden flanked from behind. Hunter soon joined his friends and they quickly finished off the remaining cleric. Upon defeating the clerics of Bane the party looted their rooms and belongings and decided that with the lower level cleared, and with Ziona and Drexel low on spell-power, they should spend the night here and intercept the next changing of the guard.


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## Thorntangle (Sep 25, 2002)

Great write-up, Xaltar! Are you doing this all from memory or do you have plenty of session notes?

Please keep up the good work. You should archive this story when finished.


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## Xaltar (Sep 25, 2002)

All I can do is smile.  I'm actually compiling my old story hour from when the group first started. 

Unfortunately at that time, the boards were changing servers on nearly a weekly basis.  I lost a whole bunch of posts and will be filling in the gaps.  The next several parts from this point will be from memory, but I do remember that pretty well.

When the whole thing is finished, I do plan on archiving it so that I won't loose it again.  

Thanks for the support!


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## Thorntangle (Sep 27, 2002)

Xaltar - Did you enjoy running Galath's Roost? On paper it looks like an interesting adventure. Maybe a little too small-party-single-handedly-storming-the-fort for my taste. But did the players have fun?


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## Xaltar (Sep 28, 2002)

I really liked the module, and I think that the players had a great time.  

It is a great low level module!  There was investigation work, and some interesting npcs.  The players felt pretty good after overcoming the keep as well.  I was thinking that they would take if for their own when they had finished, but they didn't.  I would think that most partys would.


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## Thorntangle (Oct 11, 2002)

Spider Queen Bump


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